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nethhiri · 24 hours

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Marooned: Chapter 38

Kid x FemReader x Killer

Warning: Another all smut no plot chappie! (feat. Heat kinda; also feat. everyone's favorite: inappropriate use of devil fruit power)

Sticky Situations

It was only curiosity. You weren't a pervert. It's not your fault sound travelled easily through the walls. You were walking past Kid's cabin when some distinct noises beckoned you to press your ear against the door. Did people do this when me and Kid were...? Maybe you should bring up the subject of sound proofing certain rooms. There was a string of groans and grunts that sounded like Kid. The other person was Killer, telling Kid to relax. Heat rose to your face listening to Kid's cursing and demands that Killer go harder. You batted your ear, as it was starting to itch. Wait. In a split second, the door opened and Kid was tugging you in by the ear with his devil fruit.

"Tsk." Kid pointed to your ear, "Might wanna take that off if ya don't want me to know yer peeping outside the door."

Your eyebrows knit together, puzzled. "Why aren't you both naked?" Kid had his shirt off. That's it. And they didn't have time to get dressed before Kid pulled you in.

Kid barked out a laugh. "Forward aren't we? If ya want us, all ya hafta do is ask."

"No that's not-. I thought you guys were..." You made sex gestures with your hands and moved your eyebrows up and down suggestively.

Even Killer laughed at that. "I was helping Kid get a knot out of his shoulder."

Somehow this was more embarrassing than walking in on actual sex. "I see." Now the noises made sense. "I'll see myself out."

"Not so fast." Kid pulled you by the ear again until you were in front of him. "I know yer avoiding me since Killer spilled the beans that I was gonna yell at ya."

"Noooo." Lie. You weren't scared obviously. You really didn't want to get sucked into some kind of 'you need to be more careful' bullshit.

"I'm not gonna yell at ya."

"You're not?" Before you knew it, you were bent over his knee. "Hang on a minute. Let's talk about this."

"We could have if ya didn't avoid me." Kid tugged at your pants until your ass was exposed. "The time fer talking is over," he said with a sinister chuckle.

You played along gladly. The last thing you wanted was a serious conversation. You couldn't stop yourself from giggling. This would be fun. Snooping had its perks.

"Fuck ya giggling about?" Kid cracked you on the ass with his metal hand, hard enough to leave a mark.

You yelped. "I love when Captain Kid is mean t'me."

Killer crouched in front of you. "Count out loud or he starts over." He tapped the chin of his mask. "How many, Kid?"

"I think 10 should do it." Kid added, "Oh and ya can't heal it either or I'm gonna do it twice as hard next time."

Smack!

"One," you still giggled.

"I don't think you're doing it hard enough." Killer mused.

Smack!

"T-two." Your grin faltered.

Smack!

"Three."

By the tenth spank, the bottom of your ass was cherry red. Kid's hand was so big its print took up most of the space. Tears pricked at your eyes and you yelped at him even resting his hand on the tender area. It was going to have a nice bruise tomorrow.

"Not so funny now, is it?"

"No, Sir." He thwapped you again and you yipped. "What was that for?!"

"Fer being a little shit."

"Eleven. You didn't count that one." Killer looked at Kid. "Looks like you gotta start over."

"Wait that one didn't count! Please don't." You gave Killer your best puppy dog eyes and turned to look at Kid to do the same. "I'll be good. I swear."

Kid tugged your pants back up and flipped you up to sit on his lap, earning a whimper from you. He grinned, "What's wrong, princess?"

"We're not fucking?" Was this not foreplay?

"This a punishment. Fucking is a reward." Killer patted your head.

You stared at them incredulously. "You're kidding right?" They both had shit-eating grins across their faces. The real punishment was winding you up and doing nothing about it. You stood up angrily. "You wanna play this game? Fine." You were going to get them to crack before you. They wanted you to beg and you weren't going to let them have the satisfaction.

You left in a huff, nearly hitting Heat with the door as you left. You almost walked past him, turning on your heel to see his red face. You cocked your head. "Heat," you started in an accusatory tone, "what did you hear?" It was a bit hypocritical to be mad at him for being a pervert. You weren't mad. But maybe he could help you. Several thoughts went through your head: you could fuck him and get relief that way, he could help you concoct a revenge plan, possibly combine those two things in some way. You didn't want to make Kid and Killer jealous, you just wanted them to crack first.

"N-nothing." He wouldn't meet your gaze.

"Are you busy?"

He straightened up, "No. Can I... help you with something?" He wasn't going to say no to a quickie.

"I need intel."

It started with you wearing the tiny black leather shorts and the deep red corset top you had bought a while back with Heat. You knew it would drive Kid wild to see the bruising on your ass peek out from the legs of the shorts. Shorts was a strong word. They were closer to panties than shorts with the way your cheeks weren't completely covered. Heat didn't mind helping you. He would win, too, watching you slink around half-naked. You could feel Kid's eyes devour you from wherever he was. Another time, you wore a leather harness adorned with metal accents under your clothes, with panties to match. You knew Kid could sense the metal with his power and feel every curve along with your body heat. It was taking everything in him not to play with the metal bits, he knew he wouldn't be able to control himself. He was about to crack. What pushed him over the edge was the night you wore a metal butt plug and had a matching metallic egg in your pussy to dinner. Heat helped acquire the items from Kid's personal collection. Kid could feel every time you clenched to keep the egg from falling out and every time you squirmed for friction. He had broken out in a sweat on his forehead.

Kid was vulnerable to the obvious things. Killer was more difficult because his expressions were hidden and you couldn't tell if it was working. In the mornings you would ask if he needed to check and make sure you didn't heal the bruises. You took one of the shirts he had let you borrow and made it into a skin tight babydoll crop top with your fruit. You wore that, sans bra, and some little jean shorts once to help him in the kitchen, "accidentally" brushing against him whenever the opportunity arose. Another time, you enjoyed a popsicle when you were sunning yourself on deck while he happened to be at the helm. You about caused him to have a heart attack when one afternoon he came to prep dinner and found you sitting on the counter in a tiny skirt, legs parted just enough that he could see you didn't have panties on. What really got to him, was at the same diner that had Kid sweating, you sat across from him and rubbed at the crotch of his jeans with your feet. Heat let you in on a few fantasies that Killer had.

What did Heat get out of it? Well, you let him know when the plan was going into action so he could watch, using your fruit to make a tiny peephole in the wall across from Kid's bed.

Once you knew you had them, you excused yourself and let yourself into Kid's cabin. The smirk never left your face as you ran into Kid's closet to get one of his old feather coats. You were going to strip in the closet but wanted to pay Heat back appropriately. You donned Kid's coat and laid on his bed. You didn't have to wait long, as the door flew open and Kid stepped in with his first mate close behind. You didn't miss the way Kid's eyes widened slightly when he caught sight of his coat.

"What the hell do ya think yer doing?"

"I don't know what you mean."

Kid grabbed your chin. "Ya know exactly what I mean, doll."

You hummed with a smirk on your face, rolling on your back so the coat fell open.

Killer made a noise of appreciation before stripping his shirt and sliding behind you with his legs caging you in.

You almost regretted wearing Kid's coat because otherwise you would have been able to lean into Killer's bare chest. Still, you let your head rest on his shoulder, arching your back to push yourself up high enough to put your lips to his neck. The rough skin of his hands running down your body gave you goosebumps. They stopped to knead at your breasts, your hips, your thighs. It was clear Killer had a penchant for the fleshier parts of your body. Small moans left your lips as you pressed them against the skin of his neck, every so often giving him a nip. He moved your legs to rest on the outside of his, spreading you wide open. A thick finger circled your entrance, making you whine.

Kid sat at the foot of the bed, sans clothing, lazily stroking himself and watching Killer play you like a fiddle, using his powers to alternate moving the egg and plug around. Fuck you looked so good wide open, pussy glistening and Killer had barely touched you. He wasn't going to give in to your teasing until he saw you laid out in his coat. There was no way he could let that image go to waste. As soon as Killer was done finger fucking you, he was going to dive in face first. Kid didn't understand how Killer held out this long without fucking you proper, but if you had taunted him as well as you taunted Kid, he was probably close to giving in.

Killer could feel his dick throb in his jeans, leaking precum. Every time he felt your cunt clench against his fingers, his cock strained against its confines. He could feel you squirm more and more against him as he worked a second and third finger in. The hand that wasn't occupied was lightly closed around your throat. He liked listening to the way your moans get raspier when he added pressure.

"Killer... please." You rolled your hips into his hand, pressing your clit harder into his thumb. "M'close."

"Go ahead. Cum on my fingers. Cum so your captain can watch."

The low voice in your ear and the breath ghosting the skin of your neck sent you crashing over the edge. "Oh f-uck, Kill-er." He held your legs open as they threatened to squeeze together. You twitched as he pulled his fingers back, opening your mouth so you could suck the juices from them. You whined when they didn't come, looking down to see Kid cleaning them off instead, leaving red stains at the base of Killer's fingers. You hadn't even felt him climb up the bed.

Kid yanked you down a little so he could wrap his arms underneath your legs. "M'gonna wear this pussy like an oxygen mask," he said, more or less talking to himself. For a moment he took the time to appreciate the pink, glistening folds before him, engorged with the increased blood flow and the base of the plug snugly nestled between your cheeks. Then he went to work, groaning as the taste of your arousal hit his tongue. He wasn't kidding. Kid buried his face in your sex, dipping his tongue as deep as it would go, greedily lapping up the juices that spilled when you came. He moved the metallic egg in time with his rhythm, driving you insane. It made his cock hurt how badly he wanted to bury in your walls.

Your head rested on Killer's chest so you had a good view. It was a good thing Kid had you locked in place with his grip because you would be writhing all over the place with how intense the actions of his tongue and the use of his powers were. Every time you jerked away, he gave you a noise of displeasure, kind of a weak growl. The only time he withdrew his tongue was to bully your clit with it, making you buck when he grazed his teeth against it. Your previous orgasm made you incredibly sensitive, and he had you on the edge again already.

Killer was throughly enjoying how much you were enjoying yourself as he played with your breasts. He could tell by the way your breaths caught in your throat and the near incessant noises you were making, that you were close again. "Kid, she's gonna cum. Poor thing can't even form the words to tell you."

You whined, but he was right. It was embarrassing how quickly you melted for them. The wave of tingling heat overcame you almost immediately after he said that. You felt a brief flood of wetness and heard sloppy sounds as Kid worked you through your orgasm. You panted hard and opened your eyes. You saw Kid put his googles back on his forehead, apparently having moved them down at some point.

Kid saw you looking, "What? I was in the splash zone."

"I can't fucking stand you." You laughed.

"Hah?! What was that?" Kid tugged you right out of his coat, flipping you onto your stomach. He teased the butt plug and egg in and out a few times, before removing the egg completely and putting the plug firmly back in its place, earning a squeak from you. "Tsk, wee mouse is overstimulated, is she?"

Killer tossed the coat aside and scooted further down the bed. He grabbed you and laid back flat, so your chests were flush. Then you felt Kid on top of you. His weight sandwiching you against Killer was making you wild. If only Killer would take his pants off, it would be perfect. Kid hiked one of your legs up, burying himself in you. You both groaned at the feeling.

"I can still feel ya twitching on my cock, dirty lass," Kid teased. "Tell Killer how good I make ya feel. Maybe he'll finally let ya have it."

You buried your face in Killer's neck, moaning, as Kid started to fuck you. "Feels so good to be f-fucked by a big c-cock." You attacked the other side of Killer's neck so that he would marks to match the ones you had left earlier, taking breaks to moan dirty things in his ear. "Don't you w-wanna stretch me out, too?" You rubbed your hand against the hardness in his jeans. "Please. Please let me." You moaned louder briefly at a particularly hard thrust from Kid. "I love w-hen Cap'n makes me cum all over his c-cock." Even your own dirty words were affecting you. "Let me c-um on your cock, K-Killer." After that, you couldn't form any more sentences. Kid's brutal thrusts had you screaming into Killer's shoulder.

You felt Killer grab your wrist and guide your hand to his length, which at some point, had been partially freed. It was still within his underwear, though it was much more manageable when it wasn't under the tough denim. Gripping him through the fabric, you jerked him off. You could feel his girth pulse under your hand. Just thinking about having it inside you made your pussy clench. You whined in protest when Kid repositioned you, tugging your hips up and back, pushing your top half down. You couldn't wrap your hand around Killer at this angle, and with the way Kid was pounding your cervix into oblivion, at the same time playing with the plug, however you could feel Killer's erection against your stomach. Under your own cries of pleasure, you could hear soft huffs from under Killer's mask as the motions of Kid fucking you caused your stomach to rub against Killer. You felt his hips move as he rubbed himself against you even more. There was something so erotic about him so desperate to get off that he was thrusting against your stomach. That in itself caused the coil in your core to tighten, but when you heard him moan and felt his cock throb against you with a sticky sensation spreading on your skin, the coil snapped.

This orgasm was the most powerful one of the three that they managed to give you. You shook as the pleasure took over your body, cunt gripping Kid so tightly that it forced him to his own climax. He pulled your hips tightly to him and ground his cock up into you harder. Your mixed fluids spilled onto your thighs. You could feel your walls flutter with aftershocks. Rolling off Killer to the space next to him, you looked down at the mess on your stomach.

"Damn, Killer," You said, looking at the mess on his own stomach to match. Kid spread your knees to look at his fine work and bent down to press his tongue into your overly sensitive clit. You jumped and he laughed at you before trailing his tongue up to lick a stripe through Killer's semen.

Kid stood up and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "Ya wouldn't get so pent up like that if ya let one of us take care of ya more often." He looked like he was in thought.

You looked up at Killer. Smug with the fact that not only did you tempt him but you did it enough that he let you touch him, too.

He seemed to know what you were thinking and sat up, running a hand over your cheek. "Soon, breadcrumb."

You were both startled when Kid banged his fist against the wall. "Heat! Ya fuckin pervert!" Kid could sense the various metals that made up his outfit, caught the same way he caught you. He touched the small peephole. Kid squinted. "What's this?" He immediately rounded on you. "Yer a sneaky one. Now I get it."

Killer cocked his head to the side, intrigued by Kid's outburst.

Kid continued, "Yer working with Heat!" He looked at Killer. "Heat was helping her behind the scenes and she made it easier for him to watch in exchange!" Kid laughed darkly. "So that's how ya got yer hands on this," Kid used his magnetism to move the butt plug, getting you to yelp again. Kid nodded, clearly thinking about what to do with this information. He looked at you. "Ya wanna wear it so bad? Ya can keep it in until I tell ya to take it out."

It turned out, Kid had Heat in the same situation as you. Realizing it when you both paused at the same moments during the day when Kid decided to fuck with you, trying to contain twitches and moans. Or at meal times when you both jumped in your seat. One particularly good moment, which Kid was quite proud of, was when he made you and Heat spar, playing with both of you while you fought. He could tell you both went off somewhere together afterwards, probably to relieve each other. He released you from the punishment after that, satisfied with the show he got.

#I meant to just start the chap with a funny little misunderstanding and then it turned into a whole thing my bad #mini #x reader #eustass kid #one piece #massacre soldier killer #marooned #kid x reader x killer #killer x reader #eustass kid x reader #all smut no plot

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anirudhpisharody · 12 days

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#alright these tags are super embarrassing but i needed to rant publicly so uh. you can read this but please don't perceive me too much #it is so fucking exhausting having nobody to share my life with #i have literally zero friends at this point bc ever since my grandpa died i've pretty much stopped trying to keep in touch with my hometown #friends and i cut off my 'friend' group that were racist assholes who treated me like a doormat back in october and haven't really made any #close friends at college since. and i just fucking hate that this is the same way i've felt for so many fucking years like you'd think it #would be bearable at this point and i'd be used to being alone and for a while i honestly was but it just hit me tonight how fucking lonely #i am and how tomorrow i have to keep on just doing the shit i have to do in life without anyone to talk to and share it with #other than my mom who's been pissing me off lately so i've been pushing her away too!#it's so tiring to have to go out and do things and have responsibilities everyday and not being able to share that with anyone idk it makes #it feel almost like i'm carrying the weight of the world on my shoulders which is SO dramatic i know #like today i wanted to talk about the stupid false alarm gas leak thing with my sort of friends in this club i'm in but i didn't get to talk #to anyone at the meeting bc everyone was just talking amongst themselves in their little groups of best friends and it just reminded me that #i don't have that and i've never fucking had that i've only ever pretended i had that #it's like all these years i've been pretending to be a person that has friends and knows how to live life normally but i never have #more than anything i just miss my friends from home bc they're the closest i've ever felt to having friends that are like family but. i #don't know how to talk to them anymore. i didn't tell any of them when my grandpa died and i think they just assumed that i've moved on so #they've probably moved on and i already know that they have their own lives and friends at their schools that are a lot more full than mine #wanna know the worst part about all of this? i just had therapy and basically told her everything's fine #and i won't meet with her again until 3 weeks from now so literally the only person i can talk to about this right now is my mom #which i am absolutely not gonna do bc she's gonna get so scared and worried for me and i can't have that rn #anyways yeah. this isn't even that big of a deal like i haven't had friends for at least the past 6 months it's not like anything's changed #i just feel extra sad about it right now. i need a distraction stat gonna go watch watch some tv goodnight #shut up hanna

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youremyonlyhope · 2 years

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4:30am and spiraling about job applications woohooooo

#adulting #still not actually applying yet. i'll start applying at the end of the month i think #since i can't start a new job until mid-ish september anyway #still taking the summer off from full time job and just working on costumes for an opera and maybe a musical too #the freedom is nice. the lack of income is not nice. just paid my credit card bill today. not having that money come right back in sucks.#but i got enough saved up to be more than fine this summer with no consistent income and just the little bit from the opera #but anyway. i think i maybe know one of the job areas i'll start applying to since i need some non-theatre stuff too #because the odds of me getting a job in theatre is very very low right now #but maybe i can use my education admin background for something else sort of adjacent #i'm gonna talk it over with my therapist tomorrow yayyy #my therapy appointment's in 6 hours. i've stayed up way too late. but my bubble tea kept me up.#i was super anxious this weekend and i literally cannot remember why so that's fun. maybe i'll remember in my session.#because i could not breathe during one of the nights this weekend and literally i don't know what caused it. i blocked it out.

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tsuncda · 1 year

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so i guess i’m back???

#olive rambles #lol i'm not back on my main blog yet - idk if i'm ready to be a Tumblrina again but i like lurking on this hellsite #might get the courage to return to my fanfic writing ways in a few months who can say #but i will be a little more active here on my sideblog so come say hi whenever if you'd like <3 #i'm very behind on reading the fanfic i've been tagged in but i think i'm gonna do some Binging over the summer #haven't had a summer off since the good old days..... 6th grade <3 #anyway i'm thinking of doing a game tomorrow maybe a cym?? or a make me choose??? idk idk #just thought i'd say hi since the queue has started again <3

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lymtw · 2 months

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Late night phone calls with Toji where he's practically buzzing at the sound of your voice. Nothing special about the conversation, but there's just something so delicious about the static on the line merging with your voice. You sound kind of tired and you're sighing just enough to drive him a little crazy.

You have a history of having to fight to get him to listen, regardless of how many times he says that he is listening. You test him by asking questions about what you just talked about and he gets a solid 90%. Most of the time...

This time he wasn't getting anything. It's been a couple days since you last went over to Toji's so he was missing you a little more than usual tonight. But, you called later at night like you usually do to tell him about your day. You'll never get over the way he answers the phone, the most spine tingling hello you've ever heard, each time better than the last, save for when you call him after he falls asleep and he answers in that raspy voice that shakes you to your core. But, as said before, he was getting nothing and you were starting to wonder if he was losing track of what you were telling him.

"Toji? Are you still listening?"

"Yeah, keep talking, princess. Tell me everything."

So you keep going because you believe him, only to be interrupted a second time by something that sounds like a shudder.

"Toji?"

He takes a second longer to answer this time.

"Mm... yeah, doll?"

"You okay? We can go to sleep if you want. I'll see you tomorrow anyway."

His hand is wrapped around his cock, pumping himself as you keep talking. You're kindly offering an out for this phone call. He must be tired. You think maybe that's why he's not talking as much.

"Don't feel pressured to keep talking. If you're tired, you're tired baby. We have all day tomorrow."

He wants to hear your voice as he keeps going, though. If you knew what was happening, would you judge him or would you egg him on?

"Don't worry about it, mama," he groans. "Just really like the sound of your voice 's all. Come on. Talk to me. What else did you do today?"

So you tell him about how you went shopping for a new dress to go out in.

"Wanna see me in it tomorrow? Or should I save it for a more formal date?"

He shudders once again, his abs quivering as he focuses on collecting the pearls of precum that endlessly form on his tip and smearing it all over his shaft. You have him thinking about the last time you wore a dress around him. It ended up being bunched up at your waist as he fucked the soul out of you in the men's bathroom of a restaurant.

"Think you should," he pauses and clears his throat, muttering an unintelligible curse away from the phone. He is seconds away from busting. "Save it for when I can take you out... we're staying in," he pants. "I'm gonna fuck you tomorrow, doll."

Your face goes so red, and you can't help but giggle to yourself despite the rush of nerves that invaded your body.

"Gonna be good for me, right? You're gonna sleep over and let me play with you?"

At this point you feel like rolling off your bed to cool yourself down on the cold floor.

"Of course, Toji. I'm all yours."

You can hear heavy breathing laced with the static on the line.

"Oh fuck... say that again, princess. Again for me."

You've caught on to this freak's game. So you do what you can to make him drip like honey.

"All yours, Toji. Yours to fuck, yours to choke, yours to gag. I'll let you have your way with me tomorrow." You grin as you hear the muffled moans on the other end. "You can put it whereeever you want and i'll take it for you. Just promise you'll fill me up, yeah?"

With that Toji cums so hard that he's rocking his hips against the mattress, his back arching in pleasure and a barrage of expletives are released. He sounds strangled, out of breath on the other end, and all you can do is laugh at the silence that takes over the line. You know he's laying there with his eyes closed, trying to come back to reality.

"You dead, baby?"

"Fuck you," he says, breathlessly, a lazy grin on his face. "I'll see you tomorrow. Better not be lying 'bout what you said earlier."

"Goodnight~"

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javiscigarette · 6 months

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Silent Night

Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: You’re home for the holidays and Joel isn't gonna let a drinking contest or a house full of people stop him.

Warnings: PWP ofc, established relationship, mentions of drinking/alcohol, having to keep quiet?, oral (f&m receiving), thigh grinding, creampie, breeding kink, come play, getting caught, I think that's all lmk if I missed anything

w/c: 6.6k

a/n: hiii everyone! I am in fact alive! I'm finally on break from school and this is just a lil something I wrote real quick bc I've been in the holiday spirit since before October even ended hehehe :) Anyway, thank u to the actual loml @undrthelights for beta reading and finding the perfect pics!! It's nice to be back! Please leave a comment letting me know if you liked it, support is what keeps writers going!! Love u all!!

my masterlist

Your hips grind a little harder against his thigh, a soft sight falling from your lips as he licks and sucks at the spot under your ear that drives you absolutely wild. “I don't think I can be quiet” you whisper, gasping softly when his tongue swipes over your pulse. "You can" he mumbles against the side of your neck, the vibrations of his voice and his warm breath against your skin sending burning hot sparks down your spine. “You can do whatever I ask, can’t you baby?”

You can hear them downstairs, muffled sounds of Joel and several other of your family members talking and laughing while they sip on the fancy whiskey that your dad was saving for the occasion. You opted out of it, quickly taking up the offer of the first hour or two of alone time you’ve had since you arrived at your parents house two days ago instead. You figured Joel could use the time too, talking with your dad and uncles and cousins about whatever men talk about when they’re doing whiskey tasting in the mancave of a basement.

You managed to avoid getting roped into watching a shitty Hallmark Christmas movie with the rest of your family or helping them prep for the big dinner tomorrow. After successfully sneaking away to your old childhood bedroom that’s now redecorated as a simple guest room, you're left with nothing to do besides relax. First up was a long shower with the water so hot you nearly scalded your skin, and now you’re cozied up in bed, nose buried deep in the middle of your book while the rest of the house buzzed with muted background noise.

Time passes without you noticing, too engrossed in your book to keep track, but eventually the bedroom door creaks open, pulling you back to reality. You’re about to tell off whoever is at the door for interrupting you, but you immediately soften when Joel slips inside, quietly closing the door behind him.

He looks so sweet, wrapped up in a thick dark brown sweater, his curls flopping over his forehead, a light dusting of pink on his cheeks and the bridge of his nose with a lopsided smile. His eyes are soft, warm, and a bit glassy as he looks at you like you’re the best thing he ever did see.

"Think your dad is trying to kill me" he says, his words slurring just a bit as he crosses the room over to the bed.

You giggle, watching him plop down on the bed on his back, his head rolling over to look at you, "Are you surprised? He does this to you every year."

It's true, every holiday at your parents house, your dad insists on the whiskey "tasting", which is really just him pouring heavy handed shots and glasses and seeing who's going to be the last one to tap out. Usually it's just him and his brothers in the end, hashing out some decades old sibling rivalry in the form of a drinking contest. And ever since the first time you brought Joel home for the holiday five years ago, your father has insisted on dragging him down there and challenging him too.

The first year was the worst with Joel not heeding any of your warnings about how much liquor your dad would actually push on him. Joel was so sick by the end of the night that he made best friends with the toilet and passed out on the couch, then spent most of the next morning with a massive hangover, apologizing profusely to your dad about it who just laughed and said that he can try again next year.

Thankfully, Joel knows his limits now and has made peace with the fact that he'll never beat your dad at his own game. It doesn't mean that the challenge doesn't still stand.

"No" he mumbles, a dopey smile spreading across his face, "Guess I jus' never expect him to pour shots big enough to knock out a horse"

"How many did you have this time?" You ask, bookmarking your place in the book before setting it aside, sitting up a little straighter and adjusting the pillows behind your back.

"Jus' three."

"Oh, so you are just a lightweight then?"

"I'm not a fuckin' lightweight" he grumbles with a dramatic pout.

You laugh as you turn to lay on your side, propping yourself up on your elbow. Your hand instinctively falls to his hair, a small content sigh falling from his lips as your fingertips skate across his hairline and glide through his soft curls. scooting closer to him and reaching down to run your fingers through his hair, "Okay, baby" you hum, smiling when his eyes fall shut as your nails gently scratch his scalp, "If you say so."

Joel melts under your touch, like a cat basking in the sun, a lazy little grin on his face and a dreamy, far off look in his eyes. His face is still flushed, the tips of his ears and the tops of his cheeks a rosy shade of pink, his lips slightly parted, a few more stray curls falling across his forehead. He looks absolutely gorgeous, and the soft, tender look in his eyes when he finally looks back up at you melts you from the inside out.

You cup the side of his face in your hand and ;ean in to press a lingering kiss to his forehead. "You're so cute when you're drunk" you murmur, moving kissing his cheek.

"M'not drunk"

You pull back to look him in the eye, smiling, "Sure you're not"

"I'm not" he whines, "M'just a lil' tipsy."

"Alright" you hum, pressing a quick kiss to his pouty lips.

Joel follows your mouth with the softest whine when you start to pull back, his large hand cupping the back of your head, holding you still while he kisses you, needy, but still so sweet. The taste of whiskey is heavy on his tongue as it slides against yours, a soft, satisfied noise rumbling in his chest when you part your lips further, kissing him deeper.

When he finally lets you break the kiss, you're left just a little breathless and dazed, a giddy feeling swirling low in your belly. His pupils are blown when he looks up at you, his lips spit slick and plump, a lopsided smile on his face. He turns a little more on his side facing you, his fingers fiddling with the hem of your t-shirt until his hand slips easily underneath like it was meant to be there. The warmth of his palm smoothing up and down the curve of your spine is soothing, his fingers gently tracing over your ribs and the dip of your waist, the slight scratch of his calluses over your skin sending a shiver down your spine.

His eyes are half-lidded as he stares at your lips, licking his own. Realistically, you knew exactly what was going to happen as soon as he entered the bedroom. You know how he gets when he's like this, soft, sweet, and incredibly needy. With all the amount of times he tugged you into a bar bathroom after he's had a few, or when Tommy drops him off after a night out and he's already halfway to undressing you before the front door even shuts. You know he's trouble like this, but you can never deny him when he's looking at you like that, like you're the only thing he needs, the only thing he's ever needed.

He leans in to kiss you again, slow and sweet, his fingers splaying on your lower back and keeping you close. His mouth moves languidly against yours, the tip of his tongue tracing your bottle lip and his teeth sinking in the slightest bit to nip and tug, pulling a desperate little sound out from the back of your throat.

He sighs at the small sound and starts to lean into you more, using his weight to roll you over until you're flat on your back with him hovering above you, his forearms on either side of your head with his knees bracketing your hips. The kisses grow hungrier, wetter, more insistent, his mouth moving against yours like he's trying to breathe the very air from your lungs.

He shifts a bit and you moan softly into his mouth when his thigh slots between yours, the firm muscle of his thigh pushing right up against the apex of your thighs, the perfect amount of pressure to make heat spark and smolder in your belly. He does it again, rocking his thigh up against you just a little harder, swallowing the needy whimper that you let out, the heat and friction making you ache.

You can’t help but grind against his thigh, the seam of your sweatpants pressing against the damp spot that’s already forming on your panties and digging into your clit just right. You’re chasing the growing pleasure, the firmness of his thigh and the intoxicating taste of whiskey on his soft lips mixed with the faint trace of his peppermint toothpaste. You’d give anything to have him, for him to take you, but the sounds of laughter and chatter coming from downstairs is a rude reminder of reality.

"Joel" you warn with absolutely no heat in your voice, his lips grazing the sensitive spot under your ear, "We can't.”

He ignores you for a beat, crashing his lips back on yours and kissing you until he needs to come up for air.

"We can" he says, his voice gravelly and thick with want, the deep rumble vibrating in his chest. "We're bein' real quiet"

His lips trail across the line of your jaw and up your cheek before landing on your mouth again. The slow, lazy drag of his tongue against yours makes you throb, another soft when escaping you and the muscles in your legs and stomach tightening as you make no effort to stop moving against his thigh.

“Everyone will hear us” you try feebly, knowing it’s futile.

Joel smirks against your lips, the bastard. “Nah. I’ll be quiet.”

You know he's a damn liar and a bad one at that. In what world could you be quiet with his hands and mouth on you, with his thick cock buried deep inside you, stretching you out and filling you up so good that your toes curl? And in what world could he be quiet, not running his mouth about how good you feel, how pretty you look stuffed full of him, how well you take him. You know exactly how it'll go, if the numerous failed previous attempts are anything to go by.

But then his lips are on the side of your neck, and you're forgetting why it matters. You let your eyes fall shut as his lips press gentle, wet kisses up and down the column of your throat, the stubble on his cheeks and chin scratching and tickling in the best way. You're quickly forgetting why this was a bad idea to begin with.

"You can" he mumbles against the side of your neck, the vibrations of his voice and his warm breath against your skin sending burning hot sparks down your spine. “You can do whatever I ask, can’t you baby?”

“I don’t- oh…”

The rest of your sentence dies on the tip of your tongue as he pushes his thigh against you, grinding it up against your core in a way that has your head spinning and toes curling, the pleasure sharp and delicious as it melts into your veins.

“That’s right” he murmurs, pressing a chaste kiss to the corner of your mouth. “You’ll do whatever I say, huh?”

There’s a pause and when you open your eyes, his are dark, his pupils blown wide, the deep brown nearly swallowed whole. His hair is tousled and curlier than ever, a few loose strands hanging in his face. His lips are slightly parted, swollen, red, and sick and shiny from your kisses. He’s an absolute sight and you can’t help but nod, eager to do whatever he wants, whatever he asks, because god it’s always worth it.

His eyes crinkle a bit at the corners and the lopsided smirk on his face widens. He’s the fucking devil.

Just the thought of him taking you with the rest of the house full of your extended family is making your veins buzz, excitement bubbling low in your belly. But you're well aware of just how thin the walls are and how nosy some members of your family are and you can't fathom how awkward it would be to come down for breakfast the next morning after the whole house heard you getting absolutely railed.

"It’ll be okay" he assures, reading your thoughts, his hands slipping under your shirt again. The fabric bunches up over his wrists as he slides his palms up your torso to cup your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your nipples. "M’not gonna let anyone else hear you. Just me."

Fuck.

His simple words are enough to convince you, not that you needed much convincing in the first place. He had you wrapped around his finger and him around yours, and there was no way you were going to say no to what you know will come next. A jolt of electricity shoots down your spine and settles hot and heavy in the pit of your stomach. Your resolve breaks, your legs falling open further, letting him get even closer, and Joel lets out a soft, happy noise against your mouth.

"Atta girl" he hums, his voice rough and deep, "So good for me, aren't ya baby?"

"Always" you manage to reply, the word more of a sigh as you arch your back, his thumb teasing your nipple until it's pebbled and hard.

He gives into you easily, tugging your shirt up and over your head. His mouth lands on your chest as soon as it’s exposed, immediately licking and kissing across your collarbones and the swell of your breast. He noses along the valley between them, the coarse hair of his beard tickling your skin and making you giggle. You can feel him grinning against your skin before he nips and sucks at the supple flesh until a red mark rises to the surface.

You squirm beneath him, his leg still nestled perfectly between yours and pressing against you every time he shifts. The pressure is building in your gut, your clit aching and throbbing. The feeling is almost too much with his hot wet mouth now wrapped around your nipple, his tongue swirling around the stiff peak making it harder and harder for you to keep quiet.

“Joel,” you hiss, the word half warning and half plea.

“Hush, baby” he mumbles against your skin. His fingers replace his mouth, pinching and teasing your swollen, spit-slick nipple as he kisses across your chest to lavish your other nipple with the same attention.

“Gotta be quiet, remember?” he says when he pulls back, releasing your nipple with a wet pop. “Unless you want everyone hearin’ ya”

You open your mouth to say something in protest, to tell him that he’s making things a lot harder right now, but then he starts moving, sliding down the bed and the words die in your throat. The look he gives you as he settles on his stomach between your thighs is sinful, his eyes dark and mischievous, his lips pulled up into a smirk.

He hooks his fingers in the waistband of your sweats, slowly pulling them along with your panties down your legs, leaving you completely bare. Your stomach swoops at the sight of his eyes trained to your center and your thighs twitch, wanting to snap shut and hide. But his hands on both of your thighs keep you spread open for him. You swallow thickly, your breath catching in your throat, the anticipation building in the pit of your belly as your slick starts to drip down the cleft of your ass.

Joel’s mouth falls open slightly, a shaky breath escaping him. “Fuck, baby” he sighs, tongue darting out to lick his cherry red lips, his eyes glazing over. A small, content smile tugs at the corners of your mouth, a swell of pride blossoming in your chest. He looks wrecked, like a starving man eyeing his first meal, and the way he's looking at you so intently, like you're the best thing he's ever seen, the thing that's kept him alive all these years, is making your heart pound almost painfully in your chest.

“Fucking gorgeous,” he praises, his hand running along the inside of your thigh. “And all mine.”

Like he can’t wait another second, he’s leaning in and licking a long, wet stripe up your center, dragging his tongue through your folds from your leaking hole to your swollen, needy clit. The feeling of his tongue on you pulls a soft, broken sound from you. You clap your hand over your mouth as your head spins, a rush of pleasure washing over you making the muscles in your thighs and stomach twitch and flex.

He does it again and again, and every time his tongue flicks over the swollen bud, you let out a soft whine that sounds far too loud in the otherwise quiet room.

He groans against you, his mouth already wet and messy as he laps at your pussy like he's starving for it, like he would die without tasting you. His eyes are locked on yours, the look in them so dark and primal that it makes your walls clench, more slick freely leaking out of you and onto his tongue. He laps it up happily, his fingers digging into your hips, holding you steady as his mouth works your clit.

He lets out a quiet, breathy moan when you slide your hand through his hair once again, your fingers tangling in and pulling on the soft brown strands. His eyes flutter shut, a shuddery exhale falling from his parted lips, and the feeling of his warm breath fanning over your wet, sensitive center has you stifling another high pitched whimper.

You roll your hips up against his face, desperate for more, and he gets the hint, the flat of his tongue swiping up through your folds a few more times before he dips it into your entrance, pushing in and out while his nose nudges at your clit. You're writhing beneath him, tugging at his hair, trying so hard to be quiet but failing miserably, soft, desperate little noises pouring out of your mouth. You know he's loving it too, making no effort to keep your noises at bay, not giving a single fuck about who might hear.

He moans against your cunt, the vibrations making you jolt, your hips rolling up to meet him. You're panting, the hand that isn't buried in his hair gripping the sheets tight enough that your knuckles turn white, and your back arches when his tongue fucks in and out of you faster, rougher.

"Joel, fuck" you gasp, "I- I'm-

He growls, the sound muffled by your pussy, the vibrations and the feeling of his stubble dragging along your inner thighs making your toes curl, the familiar coil in your belly tightening, your thighs trembling.

He doubles down, bringing a hand between your legs to replace his tongue with two thick fingers sinking into you and curling up against that spot inside you that has you seeing stars, his tongue circling your clit while his fingers pump in and out of you, his mouth and hand working in tandem to pull you apart.

"Fuck, I'm close" you whimper, his fingers crooking against that spot inside of you, sending white hot fire coursing through your veins as your slick leaks down his fingers and into his palm like hot honey.

He hums, sucking your clit between his lips, and your legs clamp around his head, your hand tightening in his hair as your orgasm crashes over you, your back arching off the mattress, a muffled, broken moan spilling out from behind your hand. He fucks you through it, his tongue flattening out against your clit while the tips of his fingers rub against that sweet spot inside of you, sending more sparks of pleasure tingling up and down your spine.

When it's too much, when the sensitivity makes tears prick in the corners of your eyes, you make a feeble attempt to push him away. He pulls back, sitting up on his knees, his chin and cheeks wet with your slick, his pupils blown so wide that the brown is almost completely swallowed up by black. He stares at you, his gaze so heavy and intense that it makes another shiver run down your spine.

"You're not being very quiet" he smirks as he moves off the bed to stand up.

You roll your eyes, still coming down from the aftershocks, your thighs quivering, "Yeah, no shit" you mutter, propping yourself up on your elbows.

He chuckles as he pulls off his sweater and the t-shirt underneath it before he starts unbuckling his belt and working on his jeans. You sit up, shuffling closer to the edge of the bed, reaching out and batting his hands away, taking over and quickly unfastening the button and pulling the zipper down.

He doesn't protest, letting you push his jeans and boxers down his legs until he kicks them all the way off. Your mouth waters at the sight of his thick, hard cock hanging heavy between his legs, flushed a deep red with slippery precum beading at the tip. You reach out, wrapping your hand around the base and taking a moment or two to revel in the familiar weight and warmth of him in your hand.

He shudders, a low moan rumbling in his chest, his eyes slipping shut as his hand moves to cup the back of your head. He watches you intently as you take your time, lazily stroking him, rubbing the pad of your thumb over the leaking tip and tracing the throbbing veins that run along the sides. His breathing grows heavy, his jaw clenching and his stomach muscles twitching as he tries so hard not to buck his hips up into the loose circle of your fist.

"C'mon, sweetheart" he pleads, the words leaving his mouth as a low, breathless groan, "Get me all nice and wet for you."

He doesn't have to ask twice. You lean forward and you dart your tongue out to lap up the bead of precum, humming at the salty, bitter taste of it, swirling the flat of your tongue over the head of his cock, your hand pumping the rest of his shaft. His breath catches in his throat, a stuttered curse falling from his lips when you dip your tongue into the slit, teasing more precum out.

He groans, his grip on the back of your head tightening, urging you to take him into the warm, wet heat of your mouth. You sink down, flattening your tongue and taking him all the way until he hits the back of your throat, the tip of his cock brushing against the roof of your mouth. You breathe through your nose, hollowing your cheeks, swallowing around him, and the deep, guttural groan that he lets out has you squirming, slick leaking out of your cunt and onto the sheets below.

"There ya go" he pants, his head lolling back, "Oh, baby, that's it. S'fuckin' perfect."

You pull off, a string of spit and precum connecting his cock to your bottom lip, and you look up at him through your lashes.

"Need to be quiet" you remind him, "Or else I'll stop"

He lets out a shaky breath and nods, swallowing hard, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. He's not used to keeping quiet, not used to not telling you how good you feel, not used to not begging you to let him cum in that low, raspy tone that never fails to make you weak.

"I'll be good," he whispers, breathless and needy. "Promise."

Your stomach swoops at his words, arousal burning bright in your belly. Unable to stay away for much longer, you lean forward, pressing a soft kiss to the head of his cock. His hips jerk, another drop of precum leaking out. You lick it up, swirling your tongue around the sensitive, swollen tip before sinking down again. You take him into the wet heat of your mouth, hollowing your cheeks and swallowing around him, bobbing your head slowly and steadily.

He bites his lip hard enough to draw blood trying with all his might to keep his noises in as you drool all over his cock. He can't take his eyes off you, watching the way he disappears into the slick heat of your mouth. You look so pretty with your lips wrapped around him, spit dripping down his cock and leaking out the corners of your mouth while your eyes water as you take him as far as you can.

You take him deeper, and you swallow, your throat convulsing around him, and the way his whole body shudders makes you smile, proud of the effect you have on him. He's so big and thick, and you both know you can't fit him all the way down your throat, but seeing you try your best is enough to make his thighs start to shake.

His cock hits the back of your throat again and again, the tip dipping into the soft, warm, tight space, and Joel's breathing is getting heavier and faster, his jaw clenched and his eyebrows knitted together.

"Shit" he grits out under his breath, "That's it, sweetheart. That's fuckin' it."

The praise goes straight between your legs, a fresh wave of slick leaking out of you and it's too tempting to resist, so you slip your hand between your thighs and rub circles around your clit, moaning softly around his cock.

He hisses, his eyes snapping down, watching your hand disappear between your legs.

"Are you touchin' yourself?" he asks, the words coming out rough and choked, his eyebrows raised.

You nod, sliding a finger into yourself, and you pull off his cock, panting, a thin strand of spit connecting the head to your bottom lip.

"Can't help it" you whine pathetically, your voice already raspy from how far his cock had been down your throat.

Joel groans, his dick twitching, and he's had enough. He takes a step back, and you let go, a little confused and worried that you've done something wrong. But he just takes hold of your arms and yanks you off the bed, his strong hands easily manhandling you, and then he's pushing you, turning you around and bending you over the side of the mattress.

"Oh" you breathe out, bracing yourself on your forearms, arching your back, sticking your ass up in the air.

You don't have to wait long for him to move. His hand is smoothing over your ass, the other one guiding his cock towards your sopping cunt. He teases the tip between your folds, spreading your slick and dragging his head over your swollen clit a few times before lining himself up and sinking in.

You bite down on the inside of your cheek to keep quiet, letting out a stuttering breath, the familiar, delicious burn of his thick cock stretching you out making your eyes roll back into your head. You've made peace with the face that you'll never be used to his size. It'll always be too much, the feeling of him pushing into, forcing your walls to make room for him will always make you clench and shiver.

He's got his hands on your hips, holding you steady as he bottoms out, his hips flush with the curve of your ass with the tip of his cock pressed against your cervix. He holds himself there for a moment, both of you adjusting to the feeling, and you're trying so hard not to moan, to keep your noises muffled by the mattress, and you know Joel's struggling too, his jaw clenched tight and his brow furrowed.

"Good girl" he whispers, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your hips, "Taking my cock so well, aren't ya?"

You nod, whimpering, your fingers twisting in the sheets.

He pulls back and thrusts back in, setting a steady, slow rhythm, the wet slide of his cock making the most obscene sounds. And it's driving you crazy, the need to let out loud, your chest burning with the effort of keeping your noises in. He keeps his pace slow, not wanting to make more noise with his hips snapping against your ass. It’s nearly tortuous though, the drag of his cock in and out of you so slow that you can feel every ridge as he takes his sweet time. You can only handle it for a few moments before the tingling hints of pain from the stretch subside and the burning need for him to fuck you senseless takes over.

"Joel" you whine, "Faster, please."

He leans over you, his front pressed against your back, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. "You're not gonna stay quiet if I do," he says, his voice deep and gravelly, "Just take what I give you, sweetheart."

You're so worked up, the slow pace makes you even more desperate for him, and you can't help it, you need more, and you reach a hand back and grab his hip, urging him to speed up.

"I-I'll try" you promise, "Please, just- Just fuck me, Joel, please"

He hesitates, but the way you're squirming beneath him is so tempting, and the way his cock is throbbing and dripping inside of you is telling him that he needs more too.

Before you can say anything else, he's pulling back, the thick, heavy weight of him sliding out of you. You whimper at sudden empty feeling but you don't have time to complain before he's flipping you over onto your back and scooting you up the bed before climbing on top of you. You can’t help but notice how big he is, the muscles flexing smoothly in his strong arms that box you in as he hovers above you, nearly encompassing your entire body underneath his. His mouth is on yours before you can even blink, his tongue slipping past your lips and kissing you like his life depends on it.

He settles between your legs, his hips nestled in the cradle of your thighs, his cock dragging along your clit again warm and heavy, and you gasp, the sound swallowed by his mouth. You're squirming again, desperate to feel him stretch you out more and he takes mercy on you, reaching between your bodies and grabbing the base of his cock, guiding the thick head towards your entrance.

"Gotta be quiet, baby" he warns, his eyes boring into yours as he looks down at you. "Those pretty noises are just for me, yeah? Can't have anyone hearin' 'em."

You nod frantically and the next second he's pushing in, the fat head of his cock forcing its way into you and bottoming out in one smooth motion. You let out a gasp that's definitely too loud but Joel is quick to remedy it, his hand coming up to cover your mouth, his fingers splaying across your cheek.

"Shh" he shushes you, his hips rolling, the slow, lazy drag of his cock against your walls making you clench around him. Your eyes roll back, your back arching as his hand stops all the whiny little sounds you can't help but make. He continues to fuck you slow and deep, his cock sliding in and out of your soaking wet cunt, the filthy sounds of skin slapping against skin echoing softly in the room.

You can't take your eyes off him, watching his eyes squeeze shut, the muscles in his arms and shoulders flexing as he fucks you, his brows knitted together and his teeth sunk into his bottom lip. He looks beautiful like this, sweat glistening on his skin, his jaw tight, and his eyes shut tight, his mouth hanging open with his breaths coming out in soft, barely audible pants.

"Mmm" he hums, his hips picking up speed, his cock pushing impossibly deeper. "You feel so fuckin' good, baby. Fuck."

You reflexively clench around him and a shudder runs through his whole body.

"Gettin' real tight" he pants, "Tryna milk the cum right outta me, huh? Tryna make me fill up that pretty pussy?"

You whimper into his palm, your pussy fluttering, a fresh wave of slick coating his cock, and he groans, his hips picking up speed.

"S'what you want?" he asks in a hushed tone, his hand still pressed firmly over your mouth. "You want me to fill you up? Make a mess of that pretty pussy? Breed you until you're fuckin' stuffed, baby girl?"

Your back arches off the bed, the coil in your belly so tight that you think you might pass out. He's rambling, his thrusts losing rhythm, his breathing getting ragged and choppy, his chest heaving and his thighs shaking.

"That's it" he coaxes when you tighten around him even more, "Can feel it, can feel how close you are. Go on, baby, cum on my cock. Wanna feel that tight, wet cunt cum all over my cock, please, baby."

His hips snap forward, his cock pushing deep into you, the tip rubbing against the spongy spot deep inside you that makes the coil in your belly finally snap. Your eyes roll back, a muffled, broken moan falling from your lips as your entire body convulses, your orgasm washing over you and making your toes curl as your walls flutter around his cock buried to the hilt inside of you.

Joel lets out a deep, low groan, his hips stuttering as he fucks you through your orgasm. His hand slips away from your mouth so he can grip your hips with both hands, his fingers digging into the soft flesh, holding you in place so he can chase after his own release. His chest is tight as he holds in his grunts and groans, but it’s barely any use with the lewd noises that fill the room as your pussy gushes around him, your slick leaking past the tight seal of your walls around him and dripping down to his balls.

"Oh, shit, baby. Christ,” he chokes out, his stomach muscles clenching as his hips slam into yours, his cock pushing impossibly deeper and harder. “Keep makin’ a mess, keep lettin’ me feel it. That’s it. Fuckin’ hell.”

You can feel his cock starting to throb inside of you and you know he’s close. And you can’t stop the words from leaving your mouth, the need to let him know just how good he’s making you feel is destroying any bit of common sense.

“Want you to fill me up,” you whine. “Please, Joel, wanna feel it.”

That’s all it takes. His jaw clenches, his nose scrunching as his eyes squeeze shut. His cock twitches and pulses as he buries himself as deep as he can get before spilling into, filling you with thick, hot ropes of his cum. His hips jerking and stuttering d you clench around him, squeezing and milking him for everything he has while he buries his face in the crook of your neck, muffling his broken, ragged moans against your skin.

"So good,” he whimpers. “Fuckin’ perfect.”

The praise goes straight between your legs and you wrap your arm around his shoulders, trying to pull him closer. He lifts his head, his palm resting on your cheek as he lifts his head and presses his lips against yours, kissing you languidly. His hips rock back and forth lazily, pushing his cum in as deep as he can get it. You melt into the bed underneath him, the only things keeping you tethered to the earth being your fingers combing through his hair and your legs tightening around his waist.

When he finally pulls away, he rests his forehead against yours, and you're both left panting, trying to catch your breath. You listen to the muffled sounds of people downstairs, the movie playing and their drunken voices filtering in through the door, and Joel must be thinking the same thing because he chuckles.

"Well" he says, his thumb rubbing back and forth over your cheekbone, "I don't think anyone heard us."

"You better hope they didn't" you retort, a grin on your face. Joel rolls his eyes. "That's a weird way to say thank you" he teases. You start to laugh, but the sound dies in your throat, morphing to a whimper instead when he starts pulling out his softening cock.

"Joel" you whine, but he doesn't stop. "Joel, please. It's-"

He's not listening, he's too focused on the way his cock looks when he pulls out. The tip slips out of you, and the rest follows, and his eyes widen as he watches a string of thick, sticky cum stretch from the tip of his cock to your cunt. It breaks, falling to your thigh, and he licks his lips. He can't tear his eyes away, watching the way your cunt flutters, and his cum starts to drip out, running down your slit, the obscene sight making Joel's spent cock twitch.

"Shit" he mutters under his breath, "Ain't that a pretty picture."

He reaches down, dragging a finger through the mess of cum and slick and gathering it on his finger before pushing it back into your cunt. You clench around the digit before he sighs and pulls it back out.

"Gonna be leaking all day tomorrow" he murmurs, almost to himself.

You whimper, the thought of having him dripping out of you all day like that has renewed arousal already seeping into your veins.

“It’s okay” he assures you, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. “I’ll take care ya. Clean you up and put my cock back in right where it belongs, how’s that sound, hm?”

You sigh, nodding, a wave of fatigue washing over you. “Sounds perfect,” you agree.

You watch as he climbs off of you and starts to move, but a sudden, sharp sound of knuckles knocking on the other side of the bedroom door makes you both freeze.

“You two are fucking disgusting!” the voice of your cousin calls out, accompanied by the sound of a couple other people giggling and laughing. “Put some goddamn clothes on and get down here!”

You and Joel exchange glances, his eyes wide and apologetic, his cheeks burning bright red as you give him a look that says I told you so.

“Alright, alright, we’re coming” he yells back.

“We’re coming! Oh, yeah we’re coming!” another voice teases, the sound of everyone bursting out laughing quickly follows.

“We’re never doing that again” Joel mutters and you can’t help but chuckle.

“Yeah right. Keep telling yourself that”

Thank you for reading!!! Plsss let me know if you enjoyed hehehe

#joel miller smut #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #joel miller one shot #joel miller fic #the last of us #tlou fic #joel miller #pedro pascal characters

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bluewxrld07 · 3 months

Text

Kiss Cam (Luke Hughes)

Luke Hughes x female!reader

Warning(s): slight makeup sesh, angst, major fluff, touching without consent, alludes to smut

Summary:In which Luke lets his anger get the best of him.

“Mom I love you, but I have to finish getting ready for the game. We can talk more about it tomorrow.” Y/n sighs, applying mascara to her lashes.

Her phone was on the bathroom counter with mom on speaker phone, mom currently blabbing about something that happened at work that she needed to rant over. “Oh, that’s right there’s a game tonight! Tell Luke and Jack goodluck for me, and I’ll let you go then. Love you!” Her mom’s sweet voice rings in.

Y/n responds back before ending the call, her music coming back on while she used her setting spray to set the rest of her face.

Luke walks into the bathroom behind her a few moments later, setting his sweatshirt on the counter next to her puffer vest for her to wear. He stops and looks her up and down with a slight smirk on his lips.

She wasn’t fully finished getting dressed, only wearing her flare leather pants and a bralette to prevent getting makeup on his clothes. Not that he would’ve minded that anyway, but he wasn’t going to complain about her current outfit.

“What?” She chuckles putting her makeup away when catching his stare in the mirror. His eyes find hers as he walks up behind her with a hum, placing his hands around the front of her waist slowly trailing back and down to grab her ass.

She squeaks at his hands, letting a laugh leave her mouth while his own kisses her collarbone a few times. “I like these pants.”

“Oh you do, do you?” an amused grin on her face. He hums with a nod. “Very much yes. You need to buy more.”

Her eyes roll at his comment before she turns around in his grasp, his hands still going down to her ass when she faces him. Luke looks down at her, taking in the beauty of his girlfriend. She looks down at his lip before lifting herself up a little to place what was supposed to be a chaste kiss.

Luke thought otherwise, humming out a no on her lips to prevent her from breaking away. She giggles at his comment, letting her hands trail up his chest and to the back of his neck and into his curls.

Their lips moving in sync, his tongue finding hers as his hands roam her body. His touches and kisses making her whimper and moan into his mouth.

His hands began to trail from her ass, up to her hips, then to her waist, until they were gripping her breasts. Luke letting his thumb graze over her nipples through the thin fabric.

She breathes out a moan, her head falling back as he plays with them and his lips moving down to her jaw. “Lu,” she pants.

“Hm?”

“We are gonna be late.” She lets out another whimper when he bites down on her sweet spot just in the crevice of the crook of her neck. Y/n musters up the strength to grab his head from her neck, making him look up at her.

His lips now swollen, eyes looking a little glazed over as he gives her a lovesick grin. She places one last soft kiss on his mouth before turning back around to grab his sweatshirt off the counter, putting it over her head.

"Why don't you just wear my jersey again?" he asks as he steps away to watch her in the mirror.

"Because I need to switch it up every so often," she says in a 'duh' tone. "Either way people will know I'm yours if that's your problem with it." she chuckles, watching him roll his eyes.

"Okay yes, but still. You can see my name on it in bigger letters than you can on my sweatshirt."

"The sweatshirt I'm wearing is a player only sweatshirt. Therefore nobody else but players own it, so I think that's pretty self-explanatory." she assures him as she sees his pout begin to form.

Once she puts the vest over her shoulders, she turns around to wrap her arms around his neck. He grabs her waist immediately, looking down at her with a knowing look. "You may be beautiful, but you're sometimes not the brightest." he jokes, earning a slap to the chest as she walks away after his comment. She slips on her heeled boots in the entryway while he slides on his dress shoes.

"Forensic Scientist means dumb to you? I don't think so baby." she shoots back, the boy just shaking his head with a playful scoff.

"Whatever you say, honey. Let's go," he sighs before tapping her bum as she opens the front door.

Once they arrived to the arena, Y/n says her 'hello's to the other players, and Jack of course, then gives Luke his good luck kiss before making her way to the lower bowl to find her seat.

She sets her food and drink down when she finds it, seeing she's in the second row from the glass and gets comfy as she waited for the game to start. Y/n watched as more and more fans began to pile in, some starting to take up spots around the ice to watch warmups.

The warmups probably had to be her favorite part. Getting to see the boys rev up for the game as well as interacting with fans, the younger kids especially. She sometimes would find herself overhearing conversations of parents with their little ones talking about how they will try hard to get puck from a player for them.

So some days she took matters into her own hands, signaled Luke, Jack or one of the other players she knew well to bring her a couple pucks to hand out to the little kiddos. The smiles and reactions on their faces always made her smile too, which is why she loved stepping in to help sometimes.

Before she knew it, the boys were out on the ice doing their routine, kids and other fans buzzing with excitement as they watched the players skate around the ice.

She smiles widely when she sees Luke spot her, the boy giving her a little wink as he stood at the blue line with Dawson. Her little moment with Luke was soon cut short when someone took their seat next to her and settled in, his stare never leaving her side profile.

Y/n slowly turned to look at the Devils fan, the boy looking around the same age as her. He had darker hair that poked out of his backwards hat, bright hazel eyes, chiseled jaw with a little stubble. He supported a Devils Jersey with an 86 on the back of it. He nods at her before speaking.

"Hey," he starts off. She smiles warmly. "Hello." she says before turning back to watching warmups.

Luke was busy doing his routine to notice the boy sitting next to his girlfriend, y/n adjusting herself due to feeling uncomfortable by his stare.

"I'm Micah." he introduces, y/n turning her head back to him with a smaller smile this time. "Nice to meet you Micah." she says in a soft voice, hoping that it sounded both nice and uninterested.

Micah leans towards her a little, making her smile falter a bit and look back at the boys on the ice for a minute. "And you are..?" he trails off, making her insides churn at his desperation.

"Um, I'm y/n," she says in a shorter tone. He nods with a toothy smile.

"Beautiful name for an absolutely gorgeous girl." he says, making her internally roll her eyes. She just nods at him and offers another warm smile. "Thank you."

She watches as he looks her up and down slowly, slowly biting his lip as his eyes find hers. "So what's a girl like you doing sitting here all by herself?" he asks.

"Oh, I'm not alone I'm-"

"It's okay, you don't have to lie and say your friends are coming. I'll take care of you," he winks at her, and places a hand on her thigh with a squeeze. He was making her stomach knot. "Please take your hand off my leg," she says firmly. She feels herself relax when his hand leaves her thigh, her chest feeling tight as he sat closer to her.

Instead of pushing the conversation she purses her lips and looks back at the boys on the ice, hoping to find her boyfriend and her muscles relax when she sees he's already staring at her.

Now many fans that paid attention to the Hughes brothers knew she and Luke were dating. It wasn't like they made it obvious, but they also weren't hiding it either.

His eyes going back between her and the guy next to her with a darker stare than she's used to. He can tell she's uncomfortable when his eyes find hers a second later, and skates closer towards where she's sitting.

Y/n watches as he skates past and gives her a small nod as if asking if she was okay, and nods back at him with a small smile on her lips.

Luke nods back one more time at her before turning back to finish his drills, his head turning back to stare at the guy sitting next to her one last time.

Y/n was happy the guy known as Micah let her be after that, hoping that he noticed she was uninterested and very much taken.

The lights dimmed as the boys left the ice, y/n sitting back in her chair and going onto her phone. Her phone soon buzzed as she began scrolling through Twitter, seeing it was a text from Luke.

from Lu <3

Do you want me to bring you one of my jerseys?

to Lu <3

I'll be okay. I can stand my ground, I promise

from Lu <3

Baby I really think you should take one of my jerseys

to Lu <3

Lu I will look like every other fan who has one here still. It wouldn't matter if I was wearing it or not.

read 6:36pm

Y/n rolled her eyes at his actions and no response, knowing he was frustrated by the situation at hand. She wouldn't be able to convince him any other way, him being the stubborn boy he was.

It wasn't that he didn't trust her, he just liked having people know she was his and his only. She would never stop that either, but she just wanted him to understand she can handle situations on her own most times.

Before she knew it, the game had started and that's also when Micah's voice started. He kept trying to talk to her more, explaining the game to her as if she had no idea what was going on. She wanted to move so badly, but knew that that wasn't going to happen.

Y/n just tried her best to act as uninterested as possible to his conversation, the boy obviously not getting the point as time went on.

It also appeared that Luke was getting more and more irritated by Micah's advances.

Y/n often caught him skating by their area and looking directly at the pair sitting next to one another, his expression each time darker and more pissed off than the last.

The one that caught her attention was when Luke looked directly at her, shook his head, rolled his eyes and made a swatting motion at her. It deeply annoyed her that he was getting mad at her when she was making it very clear she wanted nothing to do with the man next to her.

"That call right there is known as icing," Micah begins, leaning towards her and pushing a piece of her hair back. Y/n biting her lip and running a hand through her hair as he keeps his hand on her cheek. "It happens when-"

"Okay look. Micah, is it? Can you please stop explaining the game to me as if I don't get what's going on? I used to play myself, and have a boyfriend who plays it as well. So please just -- stop talking, and stop touching me." Y/n snaps, her facial expressions towards the boy looking like she was ready to bang her head against the wall.

Micah looked stunned for a few seconds, before he smirks and rolls his eyes with a scoff. "If you had a boyfriend, where is he at then?"

Of course that was the only thing he paid attention to. She scoffs at him and looks back to the game.

There was an intermission in between whistles, the ice crew coming to shovel off the ice. Y/n looks up and watches as a kiss cam comes on, happy couples one after the other doing funny or cute kisses.

She looks down at her phone while it goes, not really wanting to be at the game anymore with her boyfriend annoyed at her, and her being annoyed with the guy next to her.

That was until Micah was elbowing her a moment later, the girl looking at him with a scowl evident on her face and he smirks smugly while pointing to the screen. She looks up, and immediately wants to sink into a hole.

Micah and her were on the kiss cam screen.

Micah looks back at her and shrugs. "it's for the views," he says, and she shook her head.

Y/n looks up at the Jumbotron, doing a 'cut' signal with her hand while saying that Micah is not her boyfriend. She began to hold up her sweatshirt, pointing to the number 43 on the arm saying 'boyfriend'.

But before she could finish saying 'boyfriend' Micah tries grabbing her face in a bruising and harsh grasp to pull her in for a kiss. Y/n immediately pushes him away and smacks him hard across the face.

Before she can cuss him out, she hears a loud bang against the glass followed by yells and many fans gasping in shock. Y/n turns to the ice and sees Luke yelling at Micah with Jack and Nico holding him back as if Luke was about ready to break the glass to get to her.

"Get your fucking hands off my girl!" he screams at him. "You grab her like that again and I'll fuck you up, you got that! Get the fuck off of her!! Don't you dare touch her!" Luke continues to yell and cuss as the boys pull him back to the bench.

Luke looks at Y/n and points at her after. "That's why I fucking told you to wear my jersey dammit!" he yells to her, making her stomach drop to her ass out of embarrassment.

Her mouth drops at his reaction, seeing him yell to her once again. "Never fucking listens to me!"

Micah sitting there both in awe and shock by both getting cussed at by Luke Hughes and being smacked by the girl next to him.

Y/n is pushing her way past Micah who is still sitting there dumbfounded, some fans making comments to him saying how shitty it was for him to do what he did.

Y/n kept her head down as she climbed up the stairs, tears in her eyes. One of the security guards she knew very well immediately made her way up to her and pulled her into her arms as they walked.

"Let's get you out of the public eye, hm? Get you down into the tunnel?" she suggest, Y/n nods quietly as she wipes a tear.

When she makes her way to the tunnel she hears the buzzer, signaling the end of the second period. She tells the security guard to grab Jack for her as he walks back to the locker room, the older woman nodding before making her way down the hall.

As she waits for Jack, she manages to take in what just happened.

Micah tried forcing himself on her. Luke cussed him out and almost broke the glass to go after him. Luke yelled at her.

Luke embarrassed her.

Y/n didn't even realize she had tears falling until she saw them fall onto her boots.

"Y/n?" she hears, her head shooting up to see Jack making his way to her with concern on his face. He had his helmet off, stick still in his hand as he approached her.

"Hey," he said as he got to her, pulling her in for a hug first. She hugged him back tightly, sniffling into his shoulder. "You okay?"

She just shook her head as they pulled away. "I've never heard him talk to me like that. Ever. I'm so humiliated." she admits, shaking her head as she wipes her tears.

Jack looks at her with guilt and frustration. "I'm sorry I had no idea he would react like that," he says. "We knew he was bothered by the guy next to you because he wouldn't stop talking about it. But he kept assuring and saying he trusted you to take care of it. Of yourself. He kept saying he knew you could handle it. Next thing we knew he was jumping over the boards and skating towards where you sat. And then you can guess what happened next." he explains, making her nod.

"I just didn't think he would ever talk to me like that." she says in a whisper. "I didn't even know that that guy would grab my face like that." she stutters, letting out a choked sob.

"I should've just listened to Luke and wore his jersey." Y/n says, watching as Jack shook his head. "No don't say what you know would make my brother feel better. He's a piece of shit and a dickbag for saying and reacting how he did. You couldn't have known." Jack assures her, pulling her in for another hug, holding her for longer.

She sniffles and stays silent, Jack pulling away from her as he hears Dawson calling out to him signaling they're going back out in a few.

"I don't want to talk to him for a bit. But I can't go back out there. I don't even think I can show my face out there at all." Y/n explains, Jack nods in understanding.

"I'll make sure he steers clear of you for right now. I'll also be the last one out of the locker room, so I will let one of the trainers know to come grab you to get my keys. You can drive it back to the apartment." he says, making her shake her head and cross her arms.

"Jack are you sure? I can't take your car."

"Y/n/n yes you can. We live in the same complex. Worst case I can always catch a ride with one of the other boys if Luke is still being an ass, so I will be able to get home either way." Jack assures her, the girl contemplating for a minute, then nodding in agreement to his statement.

He kisses her forehead before heading back to the locker rooms, Y/n pulling herself together as she waits silently for one of the trainers. She sees and hears the guys cheering as they head out for the last period, music blaring in the stadium.

She spots one of the trainers walking towards her with a sweet smile, motioning for her to follow behind them to the locker room.

When they get to the entryway, the trainer stops and points to Jack's locker stall. "He said it should be in his suit jacket pocket on the left side." the trainer tells her, y/n nodding as she feels his keys.

As she was about to walk out of the locker room the trainer stops her once more. "Luke also told me to tell you that you can take his key. Since he knows you don't normally bring yours when you drive with him to games." they explain, Y/n feeling her heart clench at his name.

She slowly nods and walks over to her boyfriend's stall and grabbing his apartment key before following the trainer out and towards the garage.

She smiles softly at the trainer before thanking them, then unlocks Jack's car and gets inside.

On the drive home the car is silent, nothing being heard but the rain on the windshield. The radio off due to her not wanting to hear a single thing as she drove home.

The embarrassment she felt from the night was starting to creep up on her, making her just want to crawl up into a ball and live there for the rest of her life.

The facial expression she saw on his face was something she only ever saw when it came to him getting pissed off at another player in the ice, or when he was arguing with Jack. Never did she see it directed towards her. It made her insides burn, her chest feeling tight.

Most of all Y/n felt violated. She had never been grabbed or touched like that, and it scared her that a man would've been desperate enough in a situation to make a move like that guy did.

She let out a sigh as she parked Jack's car in his parking spot in the parking garage, locking it as she made her way up to her and Luke's shared apartment. She kept her arms crossed over her chest, keeping her head low as she made her way through the hallways.

When she saw her familiar doormat outside her apartment, Y/n felt her exhaustion hit. As she unlocked the door, she could hear the patters of the raindrops hitting the windows. The apartment only being illuminated by her golden sunset light in the living room, window cracked open to hear the thunder outside.

She shut the door, and took off her shoes. The tired girl's feet padded down the hall to their shared bedroom, going and taking a seat on their bed as she took a deep breath.

Her phone was buzzing, causing her to turn it over and see what it was.

Luke Hughes loses it over guy in the crowd!

Breaking: New Jersey Devils player, Luke Hughes, almost breaks glass to fight man in stands after putting hands on Hughes' girlfriend!

Devils player Luke Hughes screams at fan in stands after putting hands on Hughes' girlfriend. Soon starts screaming at girlfriend shortly after, causing absolute mayhem in the stands!

After seeing each title and tweet get worse and worse, she immediately puts her phone on Do Not Disturb and puts it face down on the nightstand.

Y/n began taking off her outfit, grabbing pjs and a towel before heading into the bathroom.

Y/n turned on the shower, loving how the warmth felt on her skin and closed her eyes as she stepped in.

Usually she had always taken a post game shower with Luke when they'd gotten home, but she couldn't even fathom to want to be in the same room as him after his outburst.

Sure she understood the one towards Micah, but she still thought she didn't deserve to get the backend of it too.

Y/n also knew that he probably felt like shit after how he acted, and was probably getting an absolute earful from the entire team, the coaches included.

She let the water soak up her scalp, taking a few deep breaths as she stood there. She didn't even know where her head was at. She was still so shocked of the events tonight, but also craved to have Luke holding her. Telling her she would be okay, and that he never meant any of it.

Y/n jumps and gasps when she feel hands slither around her waist, but relaxing when a familiar head of curls is seen in her side view as he hid his face in her neck for a few moments.

The girl fought with herself, wondering if she should just let it happen or push him away, not knowing which would be the better option.

That was until he propped his chin on her shoulder, sniffling a couple times. She stood there tense, staying quiet for a few moments.

"I don't even know where to start," he says, his voice rough. He squeezes her waist, her hands still staying crossed at her chest.

"Well I do know where to start. I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry, Y/n. I have no excuses for the way I spoke to you. You were trying to get him off you, and were clearly uninterested in general. Guy couldn't take a fucking hint," he chuckles bitterly. "In the end, I should not have yelled or screamed at you. You didn't deserve any of that. I can't imagine how embarrassed you felt after that. That's all completely my fault, I couldn't control myself after seeing how uncomfy he kept making you." he sniffles and pauses to press a kiss on her temple.

"I really can't believe I lost it on you. I have no regrets for losing it on that guy, but losing my shit on you I have every regret in the world. I would absolutely go back in time and prevent myself from doing that to you. Without a second thought." he finishes. "I'm so sorry, Y/n. I am a dick, and I truly don't expect you to forgive me easily. I embarrassed you, and made it so hard for you to walk back into that arena without wanting to curl up in a ball. If you don't come to some my games for a bit, I get it. I don't blame you."

It's quiet for a few moments after that, Y/n taking that as Luke's speech being finished. She sighs and lets her body relax fully into his own, letting her hands trail down to where his hands are on her waist and wrap hers around his wrists softly.

She caresses the top of his hands with her thumbs. "You're a fucking asshole you know that?" she whispers, shaking her head as she looks down at their hands.

He nods against her shoulder. "More than an asshole honestly." he chuckles, making her muster up the smallest grin.

"You embarrassed me. You humiliated me in front of the entire arena, Luke," she starts. "I wouldn't have been as mad if it were just towards that guy. Yeah I still would've been annoyed, but it was when you started going after me. As if I had been letting it happen." she explains, Luke letting her speak.

"I tried everything in my power to make it known I was uninterested. I tried everything to make it known I didn't want him talking to me. I tried Lu," she says, her voice sounding defeated the last few words.

Luke just nods, saying he knows repeatedly. "Especially when he kept putting his hands on me, I kept telling him to stop and I kept saying no." Y/n says, her voice weak as her lips began to quiver. Luke pulls her in tighter, his heart aching and his anger rising at the guy. He had no right to touch her, and especially when she kept telling him to not touch her.

Luke couldn't imagine what was going through her head during then. It made him feel even worse after hearing how defeated she. sounded.

"Then when he grabbed my face, I felt so violated. Like I couldn't even win even when I kept saying no," she sniffled. "Then when you yelled at me like that, it made me feel like you didn't even care that I was trying my hardest to not let him touch me. When it was so clear I didn't want him to."

Luke raised his head from her shoulder, placing his hands on her hips to turn her so she was facing him. "Look at me." he says softly to her, seeing as she shook her head and kept it staring down at her hands.

He watched as she began to nervously pick ta her fingertips, something she did from anxiety, which made his hands leave her sides and lace his fingers between him own to prevent her from doing so.

"Y/n, baby, look at me." he says, his voice softer than the first time. Y/n mustered the strength to look into his eyes for the first time that evening, seeing his were incredibly bloodshot and swollen.

"Oh Lu," she sighs as she sees his face. He shook his head. "Don't worry about me." he says. "I want you to know that no matter what, I will always care for you. Even when it's so much it seems annoying, I will still be there by your side protecting and caring about you. I care more about you than I do myself." he assures her, making her lips quiver.

"You need to care about yourself too, Luke. Don't beat yourself up when you can't help me with a situation. You have to trust that I can handle it most times on my own." she explains, Luke nodding in agreement with her.

"I get that you were mad and that you were wanting to do anything you could to get to me in that moment, but taking it out on me when you know I'm trying is not the way to go."

Luke puts his head down, nodding once more. "I know. And I'm never going to stop apologizing to you. I wish I could take it back. I wish I could take it all back. I'm so sorry, Y/n/n."

She puts her hands on his cheeks. "I know. But you can't take it back, no matter how much to wish you could. Just learn from it, and move forward. Yeah this was a major bump we will work on fixing, but that is the thing. It's not just going to be you, it's gonna be us." she assures him, watching his eyes find hers again.

"You won't be going through this alone. Yeah I'm hurt. Yeah I'm embarrassed. But that's not gonna stop me from loving you and helping you. We will work on it together, okay?" Y/n caresses his cheeks, watching as he nods.

"I love you. So much. So so much, Y/n. I'm so sorry."

Y/n gives him a smile and nods, leaning her forehead against his own. "I love you too, baby. I know."

He presses his lips on her own cautiously, Y/n feeling his actions. In which she lets her hands find the back of his head and pull him closer to her to make their kiss more passionate.

He hums as their lips move in sync, letting her lead it as he wraps his arms around her figure.

Luke breaks the kiss after a few moments. "Let me start making it up to you right now, yeah?" he pants, and she nods.

"I'm all yours."

That's all Luke needs to hear before he begins his apology to her. Showing her how sorry he is in many different ways.

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papercorgiworld · 1 month

Text

Whipped for their tutor II: A Reward

Mattheo, Theo and Enzo

Tutoring the Slytherin boys isn’t easy, so you use the fact that they’re absolutely whipped as a way to motivate them.

Find part one here, but you don’t have to read it. There’s not that much plot.

Warning: suggestive and a little bit of smut

This took longer than necessary just because it took me a week to come up with something for Enzo. Also, little announcement, I'm gonna mix requests instead of work chronological because I'm struggling with inspiration and I wanna write things I can instead of stay stuck on the things I can't, because I'm short on time atm, but I should get to all of them eventually. Happy readings! Have a lovely weekend!

“Mate, quidditch practice, remember?” Blaise’s face appears by the door as he looks at his friend.

Mattheo

He looks up from his book and nods at Blaise. “Right, I gotta go.” Mattheo says, turning to face you as he slams his book shut.

“Your work isn’t finished yet.” You state and meet his eyes, a small smile tugging on your lips as you play to win this situation. Mattheo looks at Blaise and back to you, he smiles at your silly comment, quidditch was way more important than studying. “I can’t miss quidditch training.” Mattheo argues.

You pout and your teasing eyes lock with his. Blaise notices Mattheo’s face going red, but what Blaise doesn’t know is that it’s because your hand is resting on Mattheo’s crotch. Softly your hand moves and you feel his member twitch. Such a sensitive boy. “On second thought,” Mattheo’s voice comes out almost squeaky and he forces a cough to regain compose “I’m not allowed to play the game if I don’t pass tomorrow’s test so I better study.”

Blaise knows better than to ask questions and simply nods before leaving. “Such a good student.” The words drip off your lips as Mattheo’s eyes land on your lips. “If you put in a few more hours of studying then you’ll nail tomorrow’s test. And Matty, if you get an A I’ll give you a little reward.” Your words are a seductive whisper and you know you’re doing it right when you feel Mattheo get harder. Your hand moves over the bulge in his pants and like the good student Mattheo is, his eyes fall from you to the pages of his summary.

You notice his blush and his hard swallow. He was trying his best to focus, but struggling with hardness in his pants and your hand. Seeing him like this, you couldn’t deny it, it turned you on a little as well. He was so fun to play with. “Maybe it’s best I let you study alone for today.” You whisper close to his ear and his puppy eyes meet yours. He doesn’t want you to leave. “I feel you’re … a little distracted.” You say lips almost brush his ear as your hand strokes him member one last time before moving away. “Good luck.” You say and you kiss his cheek, staining his face with your lipstick. Maybe she didn’t notice… Mattheo stares down at his crotch. Who am I kidding! Why am I so sensitive to her? Salazar, she drives me crazy!

***

Mattheo was really excited when the professor returned his test a few days later. When he spotted you talking to your friend in the hallway that same day he wanted to offer you his test but worried he would look like a fool he decided against it, cursing himself for being so needy for you. He needed your praise, he thought about it almost every night, but his ego kept him from begging for it.

So he eagerly waited for the next tutoring session and his eagerness was obvious to you since he was early. You walk into the classroom and are surprised to find Mattheo seated with his books out on the table. When he sees you walk in he gets up and smiles at you and you can’t help but smile at how whipped he is. “I got an A.” He blurs out before you even get the chance to sit down. You lick your lips and Mattheo feels his face heat up. Salazar, I sound desperate. I can’t even think with her around. You take a step closer to him and you lean suggestively close. Mattheo tries to meet your lips but you teasingly avoid the kiss. You chuckle softly, making him flustered, moving to whisper in his ear. “What did you think your reward would be?”

Mattheo swallows and his eyes lock with yours. “You.” He breathes, not hiding his desire for you. While waiting for you in this classroom filled with sexual tension Mattheo’s mind and body had gone wild with anticipation for what his reward could be. Every possible fantasy of the past weeks had shot through his mind as he had waited for you, for his reward. “You think that you can have me because you had one good test?” You raise an eyebrow. “An A+.” He specifies and he immediately feels embarrassed by how pathetic he must sound, trying to impress you with his grades. However, he manages to snap out of his embarrassment and regains some of his composure. With a slight teasing tone to his voice he speaks up. “You said I would get a reward.” He does his best to sound confident and you’re almost impressed by how good he sells it.

Your hand moves over his chest and lower, pressing your chest against his. “Well, as a reward you don’t have to pretend like you’re not rock hard, you can take care of yourself.” He’s baffled. His mouth opens to say something but nothing comes out. “Sit.” You command and he does so without thinking. You sit down as well and slowly unbuckle his belt, knowing that you’ll find his cock hard once again. “Now, there, treat yourself.” You say almost mocking him. His eyes stay focused on yours as his hand slowly and hesitantly moves towards his member. Your eyes meet his and you feel yourself drawn to his pretty eyes. You lean in and Mattheo’s eyes fall to your lips as his hand slowly strokes his dick. He was so turned on by you, but he barely dared to make a move, afraid that you would reject him if he didn’t play it right.

Almost brushing his lips you halt and let your eyes fall down to his hand jerking his rather large size. You let your hand rest on his thigh, making him bite his lip. “You’re quite impressive.” You whisper and Mattheo grips his cock a little hard. You loved how needy he was for your praise, for you, but he hated how much control you had over him.

Theodore

You sit opposite of Theo and don’t see Blaise, but still roll your eyes. How dare he interrupt your tutoring session. Obviously your tutoring was more important than quidditch. Theo gathers his papers and you tilt your head, when he looks up at Blaise to say something you quickly move your leg. Theodore’s eyes widen as your elegant heels move between his thighs. Your tongue slowly wets your lips as the slytherin’s eyes meet yours. You notice how his chest heaves and you have to keep yourself from smirking, but you play it professional and look at him through your lashes. Blaise coughs as he waits for a response from his friend. “I can’t.” Theodore finally answers, but there’s a hint of reluctance in his voice. He hated giving into you, but he just could not help himself. He needed to stay and see if he had a chance with you.

Blaise nods and disappears, making you smile proudly at Theodore. You don’t say anything and remove your high heels from between Theo’s legs, making him relax a bit. When he doesn’t return his attention to his pages but rather continues to stare at you, you get up from your seat and walk over to him. Your hands rest on his shoulder, massaging them gently before letting your hands slip down under his loosened shirt to his chest. “You really need to pass that transfiguration test so you better focus.” Your taunting whisper makes Theo lick his lip as his mind wanders to all the things he would rather do than focus.

When you still don’t get the right response you lean down so your lips brush his ear. “Be a good student. I like good students. If you work through all chapters by tonight you might earn yourself a reward.” You let a hand rest just above his belt as your other hand grabs his chin, making him face you. “Can you do that for me?” You're toying with him and he knows it, but he wants to be your toy so badly. The last bit of protest within Theo disappears and he nods. You let go of his pretty face and he returns to his summary.

“If you’ve finished your summary, come find me so I can check it for you.” You say and quickly grab your stuff. “You’re leaving?” Theodore blurs and he gets flustered by how desperate he sounded. You chuckle. “Yes, I do things outside of tutoring, but you can come and find me in my dorm when your summary is done.” You turn on your heels and he watches your beautiful figure disappear, but as soon as you’re out of sight he starts working on his summary, eager to have it finished and see you again.

***

A knock on the door has you turn your head. Before you can say anything the door slowly opens to reveal Theodore and you smile when he shows you a small bundle of papers. “My summary.” He states still not entering your room, but rather leaning against the doorframe waiting for permission to enter. Theodore knew better than to go into a girl’s room without her invitation. He learned that from Pansy, the hard way. You're amused by his good behaviour and get up from your seat to take his summary. You flip through the pages and Theo watches you with anticipation. Your hair fell perfectly, your eyes were engaged with his sloppy handwriting and ever so gently you bit your plush bottom lip. He was about to adore the rest of your body, but you speak up and meet his eyes. “This is actually really thorough. I’m impressed.” A smug smile forms on Theodore lips, but as smug as he tries to act he’s blushing as well, touched by your compliment on his work.

“If you put your mind to it, Theodore, you can get much better grades.” You continue and Theo chuckles. “I’m just rarely motivated, but you changed that.” You're surprised by his confidence, but you can’t deny that you like it. “Someone’s after his reward.” You quip and Theodore feels himself heat up. It was obvious there was no need to deny it, he wanted you and you both knew it. “You promised.” Theo says as he leans his head back a little in an attempt to look nonchalant about the whole situation.

You lay the papers down on your desk and side eye him before nodding as a silent invitation to enter, which he quickly does. He closes the door by pressing his back against his, eyes never leaving your body. His hungry eyes make you chuckle. “Just out of curiosity, what do you think you’re going to get for doing something as basic as writing a summary?” You elegantly walk over to him and seductively trace a finger over his chest. “I want a chance to dig my face between your legs.” Theo’s determined voice in combination with that phrase has your eyes widen. There’s a moment of silent tension as you stare deep into his eyes. “Don’t disappoint.” You tell him as you move your hand to his shoulder to guide him down to his knees.

Enzo

Your eyes slowly move from Blaise to Enzo who smiles bright at his friend, but shakes his head no. “Can’t, mate, I really gotta finish this or I won’t play at all.” Your eyes get all shiny when the slytherin’s eyes fall back to the books in front of him. When Blaise is far enough not to hear anything going on you scoot a little closer to Enzo. “I must say, I’m impressed at how dedicated you are to our tutoring sessions.” Enzo looks up to see your sweet smile focussed on him and he has to keep himself from drooling as his mouth parts a little. You purse your lips to keep yourself from laughing at how lost he is, staring at you. Eventually a soft laugh does escape your lips. “You know, if you keep studying like this you might get a reward.” Now Enzo’s jaw drops a little more and you can’t resist putting a finger under his chin to close his mouth.

You hadn’t said anything about what this reward would be, but he sure as hell wasn’t thinking about cookies, then again neither were you. “If you work hard like the good boy you are, I’ll treat you to something sweet.” Lorenzo was unsure if it was your honey voice or the way you softly bit your lip, but his pants suddenly felt a little tighter and his heart was racing at an unhealthy pace.

***

For weeks Enzo Berkshire had been the perfect student. Always on time for his tutoring lessons, working from start to finish, engaged with his work and his grades showed it. Yet the praise from the teachers or even the girls in his class, it all left him cold because he was only after one thing and that was the sweet reward you had promised him. Striptease, lapdance, blowjob, sex… just a piece of lingerie would be fine. Next lesson, probably… However, you had kept him waiting. Since there was never an exact agreement on when he would receive his reward, Enzo was left to guess and hope every week that this would be it. You on the other hand benefited from waiting for two reasons: Lorenzo was incredibly motivated and Lorenzo was insanely cute when he tried hinting at his reward, not really daring to ask for it.

You were surprised by how long he had played along, but he really couldn’t keep it to himself any longer. He was exploding of desire for you and the thought of getting anything from you as reward drove him mad. So he had to ask. Though the question didn’t come as a surprise, the timing was.

You were explaining the importance of distance when using certain conjurations, when Enzo suddenly spook up. “I work hard. I’m a good student. I deserve my reward. I deserve you.” Your eyes move from the page you were pointing at to see a blushing Enzo stare at you. You sit a little straighter and Enzo swallows, terrified that his impatience had caused him to screw up with the prettiest witch to ever walk the earth. “What do you mean with that last bit, ‘I deserve you’?” A nervous chuckle leaves Lorenzo’s lips and he even starts fidgeting with his fingers, making you raise an eyebrow. He went from demanding daddy to whipped mamma’s boy real fast. “What I meant to say was… uhm… I deserve whatever you give me. I just forgot a few words there.” You smile at his nonsensical answer and react with a serious tone. “Exactly.”

With a flick of your wrist the door slams shut and Enzo’s eyes stick to the classroom door as he realises he’s now completely alone in a room with you. While his face heats up, his blood rushes down. “You were cute trying to be all demanding.” You say as you move from your seat, Enzo watching you carefully. “I didn’t mean to come off too strong. I was just really excited for this-.” The teasing smile tugging on your lips when he said the word ‘exciting’ has Enzo falling silent. With another flick of your wrist Enzo’s chair turns towards you and he stares at you like a deer caught in headlights. “No doubt you’re excited.” You whisper, referring to the bulge in his pants. He feels like he’s about to lose consciousness when you slowly go down on your knees in front of him. He doesn’t move and he almost forgets to breathe as your perfect hands unbuckle his belt.

Him moving up to help you lower his pants was instinct, because you had turned his mind to mush, his eyes drowning in yours. As soon as you start jerking his dick his moans fill the room, making you wonder what sounds he’ll make once you have him in your mouth.

Whimpers, is what filled the room when your tongue teased his tip, and cries when you finally move to take his member deep. You had him begging in a matter of seconds and you loved the control as much as you were starting to love Enzo.

#slytherin #slytherin boys #theodore nott #theodore nott imagine #theodore nott x reader #enzo berkshire #enzo berkshire imagine #enzo berkshire x reader #mattheo riddle imagine #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle #papercorgiworldwritings

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heeliopheelia · 1 year

Text

𝐄𝐍𝐇𝐘𝐏𝐄𝐍 𝐀𝐑𝐆𝐔𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐑 𝐒/𝐎

part 2

genre: angst, established relationship

word count: 2.9k

warnings: curse words (and some of the boys are really cruel to yn :()

masterlist

LEE HEESEUNG

"Please, can we talk about this tomorrow?" Heeseung groans as he slumps down on the couch, rubbing his face with his hands. He really doesn't want to get mad at you at such late hour but he can't help it when you keep talking his ear off from the moment that he's walked into your shared apartment. "I'm dead tired, just let it go for now, okay?"

"I'm not sleeping with you today," you scoff, not even daring a look at him so that he doesn't notice the tears of frustration that have started brimming in your eyes.

You've just found out from one of Heeseung's friends that he's been out with his ex for almost the entire day. Without telling you a word about it. Normally, you weren't the jealous type as you trust your boyfriend with your whole heart. But after hearing that he's been having the time of his life with the girl that once has broken his heart, while you were at home waiting for him to come back, your thoughts drifted onto a completely different track.

"Why? Fuck, so what if I saw her today?' He exclaims, slapping his thighs with a breathless laugh. "Nothing happened! She just wanted to talk, YN! Talk. Stop trying to turn it into something that it's not."

"Then why didn't you even bother telling me that you were meeting her?" You ask, involuntarily letting yourself get emotional and raising your voice as well. "Who even does shit like that?"

"I just didn't think it would matter so much to you, that's all. I thought you trusted me a little more!"

"So you're saying that if I were to hang out with my ex and didn't tell you anything about it, you'd be fine with it?" You snort when he nods his head. "Alright, yeah. Watch out cause I almost believed you."

"God, you're just like her! Why would I ever think of cheating on you with her when the two of you are exactly alike?" Heeseung ignores the hurt look on your face and keeps on talking nonsense, fueled up by anger. "Both have trust issues. Both are ridiculously jealous. Both are way too clingy for anybody to bear. Fucking twins!"

You laugh in disbelief as you stand up from the couch. "Why are we even in this relationship if I'm so fucking unlovable to you?"

"Good question," he quietly murmurs.

You don't bother to wait for his apology or pleads for you to stay as you know he's way too deep in his anger to even start acknowledging your feelings now. You don't even have the strength to slam the door, so you just quietly let them shut behind you as you walk out on the dark street.

PARK JAY

You cross your arms over your chest, watching as your boyfriend finishes getting dressed for work. He said he would take the day off today but he obviously forgot to do so and now is leaving you hanging onto another empty promise.

"You're twisting my words! I just said you promised you would stay with me today, that's all."

"Well and I said I forgot! End of story," Jay grumbles at you, dismissing you with a wave of his hand. "Whatever, I don't have time for this right now."

"You never do!" You raise your voice involuntarily and turn your face away as you feel the tears gathering in your eyes. How could he forget? "Not even once have I ever been prioritized while being in this relationship with you! And it's not like you even have anything important to do today!"

"We're not having this conversation again," he laughs breathlessly, threading his fingers through his hair. "My boss called me and said he needs my help. Of course my job is gonna come first in a situation like that, YN! After all this time, I thought you'd be more understanding by now."

"Yeah, it's just there are days where I want to be put first for a change. It's not like I ask you for that every week!"

You can't help but let the tears drop down your cheeks, failing to hide your emotions for any longer. You're right, though. Jay knows it too. You never complained about his work or asked him to take the day off, unless the date was important to you. It's just too bad he was too much in his own head to think about it for a little longer.

"I can always take the day off next week!" Jay says with a roll of his eyes. "And, god, why do you always have to cry?"

"Because it's my fucking birthday, you asshole," you breathe out in a broken voice before standing up from the bed.

Jay's eyes almost double in their size as he lets your words repeat in his mind. Birthday. It's your birthday. He tries to grab your wrist as you walk past him but you jerk it away from him.

"YN, I-"

"I don't wanna talk to you right now."

You rush out of the bedroom. Slamming the bathroom door behind you, you slide to the ground and bury your head in your hands, finally letting out the sob that's been weighting on your throat throughout the entire morning.

SIM JAKE

As you walk out of the restaurant angrily, you dial Jake's number. It's the fourth time you've been stood up by him like that, sitting completely embarrassed and alone at the table reserved for two. Jake was supposed to meet you here forty minutes ago and while at first you waited patiently for him, knowing his schedule is rather tight, after half and hour of having your calls not answered, you started losing your cool.

"Hi, baby. What's up?" You hear his cheerful voice from the other side of the phone.

"Nothing much besides the fact that I've been stood up by my boyfriend once again this week," you reply in a rather passive aggressive manner as you open the door of your car. "How was your day, babe?"

Jake keeps silent for a second or two before a groan leaves his throat. "Fuck, it completely slipped out my mind. I'm sorry."

"Yeah, you should be," you nearly growl, starting your car. You curse quietly when the engine stutters and chokes but doesn't want to start by the first two times. "I waited forty minutes for you, jackass."

"Shit, are you still there? Just wait a little more and I'll be there soon, I promise."

You scoff loudly. "You've got some nerve, I'll give you that, Jake."

You can hear him sigh heavily and you can just picture how he's pinching the bridge of his nose at the moment. "Can you stop that? I already apologized. I'm sorry that I have to work."

"Oh, you're very welcome." You grit your teeth, keeping your phone pressed between your ear and shoulder as you drive out of the parking lot. "Would it really kill you to remember about me even once?"

"YN, you're not being fair right now," he says and you know he's pushing himself to his limits to not raise his voice at you. "Look, one of us has to actually make some money. I can't keep my head wrapped around everything."

"Oh, yeah? So you're at work right now?"

He stutters slightly. Got him. "Well, no I-"

"Jake, are you coming, man?"

Hearing Heeseung's voice shouting on the other line makes your fingers clench on the wheel tightly. You breathe in sharply and let out a short laugh. "Good to know what your priorities are, Jake."

"No, wait, I'm-"

You interrupt him again before ending the call, "Don't bother."

PARK SUNGHOON

You breathe out in relief when you hear the familiar sound of Sunghoon's car pulling up on the driveway. He hasn't been answering any of your calls since the afternoon and you really started getting worried. You've been arguing with each other throughout the couple past weeks and you took notice of how distanced he's become towards you. You've attempted to fix that but it's a really hard task to do with your boyfriend being as stubborn as he is.

"Oh my god, I was so worried about you," you say the second when Sunghoon walks into your house. "Where have you been?"

He only nods his head at you in acknowledgement and toes his shoes off wordlessly. You frown slightly at his sudden muteness and put the sizzling pan aside.

"I made you dinner, figured you'd be hungry," you start again and only get disappointed when he dismisses you curtly.

"I'm not."

Pressing your lips together, you nod your head slightly before following him to the living room and taking a seat next to him, not close enough to irk him any further though. The two of you sit in silence, mindlessly watching the random channel that Sunghoon played. He has his arms folded on his chest and you wonder what went so wrong that he suddenly turned so cold towards you.

So you try again, speaking with a soft voice. "Why didn't you answer my calls today?"

You feel your whole body tensing when he lets out a groan. "Cause I didn't want you distracting me."

"Okay, what the hell is up with you, Hoon? Why the attitude?" You ask, turning away from the TV screen to look at your boyfriend's frowned up face.

You don't miss the roll of his eyes as he clicks his tongue. "For fuck's sake, if I knew you'd be this needy today, I would've stayed out longer."

You try not to show how much his words hurt you but the look on your face tells him a completely different story. You clear your throat and decide on voicing the thought that's made itself way too comfortable in your mind during the past few weeks. "Sometimes I just feel like you don't love me anymore."

"Well, maybe I would've loved you a little more if you stopped being so clingy. Seriously, fifteen calls, YN! Who the hell does that?"

Silence. His hurtful words linger in the air heavily and you both say nothing. You avoid his eyes, lips slightly trembling from the heartbreak. Sunghoon still says nothing as you stand up from the couch and leave the room in a rush.

KIM SUNOO

"Do you even hear yourself? Why would she be lying?" Sunoo shouts at you as he crosses his arms defensively.

You're gripping the edge of your sleeve tightly, trying to prevent yourself from raising your voice as well. Even though you're keeping cool, his words and accusations stab your heart with dozens of needles. Having your boyfriend believing his friend rather than you has got to be one of the worst feelings in the world.

"And why would I be lying?" You ask, glaring him down. "Why would I, your girlfriend, lie about my whereabouts? For fun?"

He scoffs at you,. "Well, you didn't tell me you were hanging out with Sunghoon, did you?"

"No, because I wasn't hanging out with him, we just stumbled upon each other on my way back," you explain calmly as you clench your sleeve even tighter from frustration. "We literally talked for five minutes."

"That's not what what I've heard."

You roll your eyes at his stubbornness. "Yeah, cause what else would a person that's been in love with you for two years tell you?" You can't really help the sarcastic tone that's sneaked itself into your speech and you can see it only irks Sunoo more as he nearly scowls at you.

But all that you've said is the truth. Since the beginning of your relationship, you've noticed his best friend's spiteful looks thrown your way along with the heart-eyes directed at Sunoo. You've kept quiet for all this time, not saying a word even when he ditched you for her or made plans without your knowing. But this, this is just too much for you.

"You don't know what you're talking about," he has the audacity to laugh at you.

"No, Sunoo, it hurts me, you know?" You finally let all of your feelings that have been crumpled inside you for all these years. "Do you ever even try to acknowledge my feelings when you hang out with her?"

"Don't turn this on me right now. And I'm not allowed to have female friends now? What kind of a girlfriend even are you?"

You get up from his bed and scoff at him. "And what kind of a boyfriend accuses his girlfriend of cheating while he sneaks out without her knowledge to meet up with his best friend?"

With that, you turn on your heel and leave his apartment, slamming the door behind you.

YANG JUNGWON

"That's not what friends do, YN! Are you even listening to me?"

"I am but you're being ridiculous!" You bite back at your boyfriend, walking back from a lunch with your best friend.

Throughout the entire meal she's been throwing jabs and snarly remarks at you, and although you've already grown used to her attitude, Jungwon just couldn't let that slide. He thinks it's illogical that someone you've been calling your friend for such a long time, would act so mean and nearly insulting towards you.

"I don't understand how can you let her speak to you that way," he breathes out in disbelief. "I wanted to spit in her face after an hour of talking to her, why do you let her do this to you all the time?"

"Because she's my best friend, Won!" You try to stay your ground as you dig into your purse, looking for your keys. "That's just how she is. I've learnt not to take any offence in that. You shouldn't either."

"I just care about you, so forgive me for not liking it when someone insults my girlfriend!"

You sigh, feeling tired from the night and the ongoing argument. "I know you do but I don't see it that way. She's just rough around the edges, that's all."

"Of course you don't see it. All you need is constant validation. You just can't live with the thought of somebody not liking you. You'd let a stranger walk all over you only if it meant you had gotten his approval. That's not fucking healthy, YN!"

"How can you even say that to me? Why would you-," you stop yourself from engaging in this conversation and slump your shoulders with resignation. "I don't wanna do this anymore."

Jungwon sends you a confused look. "What do you mean?"

"I just want to be alone right now," you say and Jungwon can clearly hear the exhaustion in your tone. "I'll see you tomorrow. Thanks for walking me back."

NISHIMURA RIKI

The moment that you hear the door slamming, you sigh as you realize it's one of these days again. For the past week or so, Niki has been coming home frustrated beyond words but not even once has he said what was bothering him. Sure, you've tried to intervene and ask him what's was it all about but he always dismissed you quickly. It hurts you to think that maybe he doesn't trust you enough to confide in you like that.

"Hi," you greet him as you stand up from the couch. You walk over to your boyfriend and wrap your arms around his neck in an attempt of hugging him but only get disappointed when you feel his body tense up. You pull away and look at him pointedly. "Another bad day?"

Niki hums and moves away from you, going into the direction of the kitchen. You follow him, feeling worried for him as you know he has the tendencies of bottling up his emotions inside.

"Wait! Don't ignore me again," you scolded him slightly, forcing yourself to stay calm and speak with the soft tone. You grab him by his forearm. "Niki?"

"Let go of me," he breathes out, voice heavy and your heart screams at the thought of him deciding to struggle with all of it by himself again.

You do as he asks and free his arm instantly. "Okay. Just talk to me, please?"

"There's nothing to talk about, Yn!" He snaps at you and runs his hand through his hair. "Stop pressing me!"

"No, you always keep acting like everything's fine when it's clearly not! I don't want you to keep it all to yourself. I want you to feel like you can talk to me about stuff like that," you explain, trying to keep him on your side. "I want to help you!"

"I don't need your help, though!" He scowls, sending you a sharp look. "If I knew you'd be sticking your nose into my business the second I walked through the door, I wouldn't even bother coming back."

"Hey, that's so cruel and uncalled for, Niki," you gasp slightly, feeling his words pulling at your heart again. "You're my boyfriend, of course I care about you! I hate seeing you like that but you just won't let me understand what's going on with you!"

"Are you my psychiatrist or my girlfriend? Jesus, I'm not in the mood for that right now," he sighs heavily and walks past you straight for the door.

"No, wait!" You call after him but you're too late and he's already slamming the door behind his back.

permanent taglist: @bambisgirl @arizejkt19

#i dont think id forgive all of them so easily in the real life lmao #hoon especially yeah i kinda went off with that one im sorry #enhypen #enhypen imagines #enhypen x reader #enhypen reactions #enhypen reaction #enhypen angst

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queers-gambit · 5 months

Text

Love What You've Done with the Place

song by Rascal Flatts

prompt: he's never been a man built for relationships, until you come into his life. now, the house feels like a home.

pairing: Tangerine x female!reader

fandom masterlist: Bullet Train

word count: 1.8k+

warnings: more brain rot rambles, probably cursing, NOT edited, very docile, fluff, romance, hardened men being simps.

It started with clothes. Just a few, here and there; left behind, forgotten, purposefully stuffed in his dresser for when you stayed the nights. He didn't mind, in fact, Tangerine encouraged you to bring whatever you felt comfortable with leaving since he hated how early you'd leave in the mornings to get ready for work. He found his mornings were peaceful when you were around; neither rushed, both content, starting your days on high notes with each other.

So, he made the decision and found an old sitting-vanity for you. He put it in his bedroom simply because he was fascinated with the hair and make-up process; thinking it was incredible that women had such skill. When he came home about 3 months ago, he noticed your vanity when he first got home from a particularly difficult mission. Your chair was draped in an old university tee shirt, and he smiled.

It was like watching your comfort grow and it warmed something deep in Tangerine's heart. Your make-up wasn't always in a neat array, sometimes just left from a quick touch-up; making the house feel more like a home.

Tangerine also bought a strainer for the shower's drain to catch your hair. He didn't get angry like previous boyfriends did when he found strands of your hair left behind - not on purpose or by some gross standard, but it was natural that hair shed in a shower and not every single strand could be picked up. So, to make life easier, he just quietly bought the hair trap, placed it, removed whatever empty bottles from the shower, and went about his day. But then he started to notice your hair left other places.

His counters, his sink, the floor, your vanity, his bed sheets and pillows.

Tangerine had his issues with possessiveness in the past, but this wasn't remotely similar. No, Tangerine found himself smiling when he would find your hair in his clothes; thinking it was funny, almost like a mark or badge of honor to designate him as yours. It was a brief thought, but Tangerine actually felt giddy by the idea of people just knowing he was off the market 'cause his lady's hair was clung to his suit jackets.

He liked it. He really did. He'd not admit it aloud, but he liked it.

Tangerine wasn't the most humble man in the world, but he certainly liked to flash what was his. Golden jewelry, expensive, tailored suits, shining Italian leather shoes. And now, you, the woman who invaded his heart and head - and now his home. He adored showing you off, feeling affirmed and invigorated by the longing glances men threw your way, and while he expected jealousy from other women, they seemed more impressed by your beauty and grace as well.

He remembers one night, after a several weeks long mission, he just wanted to hold you. His throat was a little choked up when he called you, knowing you were at home after reading an earlier text. So, you rushed over in the middle of the night and he'd yet to let you go home - three days later.

"You've gonna have to let me out of bed sometime," you smiled playfully. "I have work tomorrow - and no, I'm not calling out again."

"C'mon, love, don't leave me alone," he whispered, looking like a beaten down puppy. The mission was much harder than he'd let on, but Lemon usually always filled you in. He thought it was important for you to know certain details that Tangerine was sure to omit, knowing those were the details that haunted him.

"I'll be back after my shift," you promised, nuzzling his nose with your own. "I also need new panties and clean clothes."

He sighed, "Some in there," he pointed to his closet now.

"What?" You giggled.

"You've left enough behind, got a bit of a collection goin', yeah?" He smiled softly, wrapping you back up in his arms. With a sigh, he relented, "I'll let yah go to work, love, just... Need this a bit longer."

You obliged, but the next day, you were gone before he woke up. With a frown, Tangerine dropped back onto the bed - but inhaled deeply when his nose buried into your pillow. He hummed in pleasure, feeling himself brim with contentment, bringing the fluffy item to his chest and nuzzling it; your perfume left behind to soothe him.

Was Tangerine clingy? Oh, for sure! He didn't think so, but you knew better. The contract killer liked you close, liked his hands on you; even if it was just a hand on your waist or a nose near your neck. He missed you when gone, but he usually held himself back from texting you all day - wanting you to be able to focus on your job.

But that day? He was inept, just wanting you; wondering if he paid you the same salary, if you'd consider just staying home. So, he texted you several times.

This obviously threw you off a little, knowing him better than himself most days. But he just missed you, so, you sent a selfie - promising you missed him too and would be home right after work.

He saved the photo and tried not to dwell on how you said you'd "be home" and not "come to his place". He had to take a few moments to calm down, feeling his heart zing with unfamiliarity - but not being afraid of it like he had been when you first started dating. He could recognize he was happy, that he was excited to see you everyday, and that the idea of coming home to you was far too appealing to ignore any longer.

It seemed neither of you needed to actually have an official conversation about living together. Lemon didn't mind, in fact, he was the one who insisted you have your own key; adoring you and whatever affect you had on his emotionally constipated brother. So, some mornings, Tangerine wasn't surprised to find a slightly damp towel left hanging in the bathroom, nor by the make-up on his counter - you using that mirror because of the fluorescent lighting. He never put it back, he didn't move it - he liked seeing it. It meant you were still here, and the idea of it being gone made his stomach knot with anxiety. He also wasn't surprised when he went to use the shampoo you insisted would help his curls flourish (you were right), only to find it damn-near empty. His shower gel, too.

When you came home that evening, you had Target bags in hand; replacing whatever was empty, making Tangerine grin to himself by how in-sync he felt with you. He'd never had a connection such as this, only ever feeling close enough to Lemon, but you changed everything for them both.

How Tangerine ended up with someone courteous was truly beyond either of them. Someone kind, caring, adventurous, sweeter than pie - someone definitely out of Tangerine's league, something he never let himself forget. He adored you to your core - thinking someone such as you should never have gotten tangled up in someone like him, but he knew, if the time ever came, he'd never be able to let you go. In fact, most days, he had to convince himself not to just pick you up and carry you around while he did chores or ran errands.

The very idea of losing you sent his heart into his stomach; hallowing his chest in a harrowing fashion that made it hard to breathe. Just a week or two ago, Lemon found Tangerine in the kitchen, hand to his chest as if he couldn't catch his breath, heaving for air; his worry spiking, but quickly realizing what was wrong.

"Bruv, you've gotta breathe - calm down," he tried to coax. "You're having a panic attack, you've gotta just focus on breathing."

"Fuck off with that!"

"Seriously, man," Lemon insisted, catching Tangerine in a vulnerable state enough that he actually listened without much of a fight. When Tan seemed a little more under control of his own emotions, Lemon asked, "What the hell happened?"

Tangerine shook his head, "Nothing t'worry 'bout - "

"Bullshit," Lemon snapped. "I've never seen yah like that, mate, the fuck happened?"

It was embarrassing, but Tangerine managed to answer, "Just... Just started thinking that if she ever left me, I'd fucking crumble, mate."

This made Lemon frown, "She's not gonna leave you, man. You know that. The girl's madly in love with you, yeah? Like madly in love - like to a degree it makes her stupid in the head, all right? Obviously, you too," he chuckled, shaking his head as he affectionately ran a hand over the back of Tan's head. "You're workin' yourself up, 's all right. You don't have to think about that - ever - 'cause she's it for you, mate. Yeah? Hear me? She ain't goin' nowhere, not without you."

Tangerine needed the assurance. Being alone after having a taste of your love felt impossible to Tan now, something he was never bothered by before. Seriously, why give a fuck about a relationship when he had his brother? Someone who loved him unconditionally and wouldn't leave? And then he met you and understood why people gave fucks about relationships.

It was as if every room you ever entered was brightened up simply by your smile. Your laugh wasn't always the most ladylike, but it was genuine and true and always made Tangerine smile to himself. During any public outing, Tan was always close - we've established this - but he liked to play a small game. One of your love languages was physical touch, so, you liked kissing him if even just for a single second. He was aware of your lipstick, feeling the tacky substance stain his cheek, but he wouldn't wipe it off. His game was to see how long it'd take before someone would point it out; his reputation didn't always warrant others to feel secure enough to speak up. Some nights, Lemon would motion to his cheek, and other nights, you'd return home, remove your make-up, and swipe make-up remover over his cheek to clear the color away.

However, it wasn't often you ventured in public due to Tangerine's innate introverted nature. You went if The Agency made it mandatory or if you were feeling stir crazy, but majority nights, Lemon would find you both lounged on the couch in various positions.

Sometimes, you'd be watching a movie together or binging a show. Other times, you were reading a book while Tangerine poured over paperwork. And once or twice, Lemon's come home to find you belly laughing and playfully scolding Tangerine as he tried to paint your toe nails. It was a homey sight to Lemon: seeing his brother so in love and at ease, hearing your laughter, the entire flat filled with warm smells of burning candles and homemade meals.

It wasn't evident at first, but with you laying in Tangerine's arms, clothes left on the floor, bellies full of whatever meal you had prepared that evening, favorite show playing on the bedroom TV, he realized that he loved what you had done with the place.

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Bullet Train masterlist

#tangerine #tangerine bullet train #bullet train tangerine #tangerine imagine #tangerine oneshot #tangerine x you #tangerine x reader #tangerine x fem!reader #tangerine x f!reader #tangerine x female!reader #bullet train #bullet train movie #bullet train 2022 #tangerine atj #atj tangerine #atj #atj character

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luveline · 2 years

Text

𝐣𝐮𝐧𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲 | 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

part one | part two | part three | part four

summary you’re a single mom living three trailers down. eddie thinks you’re the prettiest girl he’s ever seen. queue the movies, nachos, cherry cough syrup, and a couple of moments of clarity. [10k]

warnings teen mom!reader, fem!reader, r is junie’s birth mother, fluff, hurt/comfort, eddie being a total girl dad (<3), mutual pining, yearning etc, tw for not having much money, general mom struggles :(, slowburn friends to lovers, idiots in love!!! tw sick fic

𓆩❤︎𓆪

Eddie has the most peculiar curl tucked up by his neck. Where most are frizzy and loose, this one falls in a perfect shiny ringlet below his ear. He shifts and it's out of view, a curtain of dark hair falling forward and hiding his face as he puts your car in park.

"Remind me why you had to drive?" you ask, ducking down to look at the glaring white lights of the movie theatre across the street.

"You were gonna fall asleep behind the wheel."

For once, Eddie might not be exaggerating. He grins at your lack of rebuttal and throws an arm behind your shoulders, twisting in the driver's seat to set his sights on Junie.

"Are you ready?" he asks her.

She wiggles. It's an ecstatic movement. Her clothes are prim and sweet if you do say so yourself, a long sleeved shirt under a pair of the world's cutest dungarees. They crinkle as she moves, pressed to perfection.

You and Eddie open opposite doors in tandem and step out into the brisk, early night. The sidewalk shines with rain, a black slickness stretching in every direction. You shiver and pull your thin jacket tighter to your torso as you turn back to the car, intending to retrieve Junie and rush into the theatre before you can freeze on the spot.

Eddie's already swung open the door and rescued your daughter from the confines of her car seat, neatening up the hem of one of her socks with her face pushed over his shoulder.

She giggles about something and Eddie says, "Sorry, June. 'M tickling you, am I?" so fondly you have to avert your eyes.

He locks the car and hands over your keys with a smile. You smile back, heart flipping like a spinning coin. Head over tails, over and over.

The big, ring-heavy hand he holds to Junie's back reaches for you suddenly enough that you flinch.

"I'm sorry," he apologises, suppressing a laugh, "your necklace is twisted."

He moves in a second time and you raise your chin, chest aflame as his fingers glance off of your bare skin. He slips the chain over his index and pulls, encouraging the links around until the clasp is hidden again.

"Thank you." You huff an awkward, sheepish laugh.

"You owe me," he says, mock-severe.

Your laugh is much more genuine as you follow him across the road.

You're squinting as you approach The Hawk movie theatre. The title cards are hard to look at, aggressively white with black capital letters that read, 'The Great Mouse Detective 7'.

There's a small line of families waiting by the front. You realise it like a shock, that the three of you must look like a family too.

Eddie carries Junie with the surety of a dad that's carried his child a hundred times before; he strokes the back of her head with the affection of one, soothing the mess of flyaways she'd acquired by squirming in her car seat. Junie responds with familiarity, hands tucked into his hair and tugging. She's trying to be nice but his hair won't allow it, all his long curls tangled at the ends from a day at work.

Still, he says, "Thanks, baby. Make sure you get the back, okay?"

"Okay," she echoes.

You look down at your wringing hands. There's ink smudged up the side of your writing hand. You scratch at it half-heartedly, blinking against your fatigue.

You're exhausted tonight and it's only Wednesday. You can't imagine how you'll fare tomorrow considering how little sleep you're expecting tonight — there are a thousand things to do when you get home. Laundry to wash and press, cleaning to do, dinner to make.

You'd been writing cheques for due bills when Eddie had come knocking, well-dressed, stupid-handsome, and announced that tonight you would be accompanying him to the movies. He'd actually said 'accompanying'.

Despite a full agenda, you'd said yes. You're not very good at saying no. At least, not to him.

It takes you a moment to realise you're at the front of the line. You pay for the tickets before Eddie can try it, and with his hands full he can't really stop you. He whines about it all the way to the concession stand.

"You can buy the snacks," you say. His face lights up, and you amend, "If you're reasonable."

"I'm always reasonable…ly over the top," he says, chided by your hard stare.

"Yes, you are."

He follows you down the two steps to the concession and cuts in front of you. "How did you do that? What face was that? I felt my soul leave my body."

"That's my disapproving mom look. I'm disapproving."

"Ah." He pats Junie's side sympathetically.

She pulls her head from over his shoulder and smiles at you. Her arms vy for your hold. You steal her from Eddie and kiss her all over her tiny face, uplifted by how much she loves you, how happy she is to be in your arms.

"What snacks do you want? Do you eat popcorn with butter? Without?" Eddie asks, his newly emptied arms already posed thoughtfully, a hand under his chin as he thinks over his options.

The theatre has a huge array of jellies, an even bigger array of candy bars. There are more brands of soda than there are glasses in your kitchen cabinet.

You're daunted.

"Whatever you want," you say.

Eddie groans and tips his head back. "Don't play with me like this. Butter or no butter? It's an easy question."

"I don't know. Without?"

"You are so weird," he says happily.

You pout and pull Junie closer.

Standing at the side while he gathers concessions, too many things, you watch in awe as Eddie stacks it all against his chest with the sure confidence of someone who's done it before.

He grins at you from between two huge cups. "Are we ready?"

If you could, you'd leave him here in the foyer with his jumbo deluxe popcorn. As it stands, you like him too much to leave him behind. You juggle Junie and your bag to push open the doors for him outside of screen two.

"Thanks, babe," he says outside of screen two. You bite your lip, surprised by his easy tone.

You climb up the stairs and into your seats. You're high enough for Junie to sit in her own chair between you and Eddie and see the screen comfortably but she adamantly refuses, stretching out in your lap like an alley cat hungry for affection.

Eddie moves into the ragtag velvet seat beside you, a million things in his lap and at your feet. He's pretty enough under the theatre lights to dull the panging ache at the back of your head. "If she won't sit here, I will. I got you a lemonade, is that cool?"

If it weren't you'd hardly tell him.

"She's being extremely well-behaved," Eddie notes, an inkling of pride in his tone.

You could sucker punch him. Why does he do this to you?

"I know," you say with a shy smile, "it's suspicious, isn't it?"

"I don't know. If I were in your lap I might be well-behaved too." He raises his eyebrows, an over-exaggerated show of flirtatiousness.

You reach over the arm to take a handful of popcorn. Eyes on Junie, you offer her your stolen goods and say, "I've got two thighs."

"Don't tempt me."

Junie all but snatches the popcorn and tilts her head back. A kernel falls from her hand and disappears between the seats. You make a mental note to pick it up afterward, ears full of her chomping.

You'd worried she might be a little loud for the movies but there's a bunch of kids and none seem keen on keeping quiet, a cacophony of childish complaints to hide your conversation.

"Are babies supposed to eat popcorn?"

You freeze up. "Oh- I don't know," you say, turning Junie toward you so you can watch her swallow.

"I thought I read that somewhere, but-"

"No, I think you're right. Um…" Junie looks at you with obvious confusion. "Was that yummy?" you ask. You hide your concern with a strained bubbly attentiveness.

"I guess she's old enough."

Eddie's being very casual – it is casual. He's just thinking out loud. You know he's not criticising you. He never has, though sometimes you think he should.

It must show on your face anyhow that you're having a 'I'm a bad mom' crisis. A mean stroke of insecurity.

"Sweetheart," Eddie says suddenly, brows pinched, "it's alright. It was just a thought. And she had no problem eating it, I'm sure she's gonna be aces. Better than aces."

Junie climbs out of your lap and into his. He sets the popcorn on the floor to take her, and when her hands reach for his drink he holds the straw to her mouth. All the while his eyes move between her and you.

"Okay," you say, because you're being silly.

Junie is fine. Eddie was only saying something that's very well true. Babies aren't supposed to have popcorn, but June's not a baby, really. She knows how to chew properly. It's unlikely she'll choke.

Eddie has to keep his focus on her to avoid getting soaked – she barely knows how to use a straw and keeps trying to turn the cup upside down.

"Not like that, trouble. Right way up. You got it."

You pick at the loose stitching at the end of your shirt and have to change the subject before the embarrassment of it all swallows you. Such a small thing.

"Can I try one of these?" you ask, grabbing the first bag of candy you can find. They're a bag of Super Sour Suckers.

He looks at you over Junie's head, startled and hiding it poorly. Then, a smile so bright it increases the embarrassment you're feeling tenfold.

"You have to! Robin said they're even worse than the normal ones, I don't wanna go through that alone," he says urgently.

Robin is one of his friends. You're not jealous that he has friends (though you are, because you want your own, but not jealous that he has friends that aren't you). He's mentioned her in passing before. When you'd asked as bravely as you dared if they were anything more than friends he'd laughed maniacally.

"We're definitely just friends," he'd said.

You fight to stay smiling and pull open the bag of candies. Ironically, the jellies inside are shaped like pacifiers. Covered in sugar packed densely and looking almost wet with what you suspect to be citric acid, you shake the packet wearily and search for a candy that won't ruin your tongue.

Eddie holds out his hand. You drop a green one into his palm. Your fingertips ride up the curve of his thumb.

He's unflinching as he eats it. After a few seconds his eyes screw up and he clutches June tight to his chest, raising an unhelpful hand to his jaw.

"Holy sugar," he says, wincing.

You bite into a pink pacifier unfortunately layered in sugar and wait nervously for the sourness to kick in. Sure enough, it comes quick and torturous. It's a knife cutting through fog.

It's hard to feel tired when there's something this sour in your mouth.

"You can't spit it out!" Eddie says.

You stop with your hand halfway to your mouth. "What?" you ask incredulously, trying not to dribble.

"You gotta eat it! Chew and swallow!"

You chew miserably. He laughs at your expression – a warm and hyper sound, practically giggling. Junie joins in as she always does. His joy can't be overstated.

The lights go down while you're still fighting for your life. Your eyes water and you have to smother the taste with a quick drink and a gasping breath.

"You're sick. I can't believe you let me eat that," you whisper.

"You saw me eat mine! You knew what you were getting into… Think June wants one?"

Your outrage has him laughing again. It's a magnetic sound. Every time he does it you want to touch him, his arm one pole and your hand another.

Junie gets comfortable on his right leg, head tipped expectantly against his chest and eyes drawn to the screen as the trailers begin. You don't bother with jealousy; in ten minutes she'll be climbing over the arm to sit with you again, or want to sit in her own seat. She may even try to walk around. Toddlers are indecisive and easily distracted.

Even if she weren't. Even if she sat there in his lap for the next hour and a half and didn't look your way, you're not sure you could harbour any envy against him. His hand spreads over the front of her torso with fingers splayed against her ribs, stroking thoughtlessly through the fabric of her thick clothes.

He tips his head toward your chair. "There's nachos."

"I saw."

"Wanna eat some before they get cold?"

"Subtle."

He snorts. "Yep. That's what they call me. Eddie Subtle Munson."

You reach over the dark floor for the tray of nachos and balance them carefully on the armrest between your two seats. Eddie digs in without fuss, you fret over which ones have jalapeños on them, and Junie gets mad that nobody's sharing with her. She puts her hands straight in a mound of orange cheese. Her face is a picture when she brings it to her mouth. She's discovered molten gold.

"Junie," Eddie says lightly, carding hair away from her ear so she can hear him properly. "Don't get cheese on your pretty clothes. It took your mom a week to get the rocky road out of your strawberry jammies, you know?"

He doesn't care that she's mauled the food. He's worried she might stain her dungarees. Your heart goes crazy, another sudden surge of clarity.

Junie climbs back into your own lap as the movie begins. You whisper to her about proper theatre etiquette in your mommy voice and she doesn't do too bad a job at listening. She finds the appearance of the Great Mouse Detective himself quite funny, and laughs at his grave features and expressions every now and then. It's a golden sound.

Try as you might, you can't keep your eyes open. Junie's having such a good time and Eddie whispers funny commentary beside you, but eventually your eyelids creep shut and Eddie squeezes your arm, skin braceleted by his thick, warm fingers.

"C'mere," Eddie prompts, hands vying for your daughter where she's perched in your lap.

"Why?" Junie asks.

He's surprised at her inquisition. "You don't want a hug?"

She nods voraciously. Eddie lifts her off of your lap before she can use you as a climbing frame and into his own.

"I think mommy's sleeping," he tells her.

Junie looks at you curiously. You've got a wet wipe in your limp hand, which he takes and discards, and your head's fallen to one side. You'll have an awesome crick in your neck when you wake up.

Junie gives him a hug. He loves her hugs. They're so small and sweet, she's genuinely an extremely loving little girl. Her smile when she hugs people is beautiful as yours is, though her affection is less hesitant.

Everything's going well until she catches a look at the huge, scary bad guy Professor Ratigan somewhere in the middle.

Eddie's crunching through a greedy mouthful of popcorn and almost chokes as she turns around and hides in his chest. He brings a hand up to her back protectively though he doesn't know what happened, eyes moving between her and the screen at lightning speed.

"Aw, June," he murmurs sympathetically. He really is a scary looking guy.

"Eddie," she says, dangerously close to tears.

"Sweetheart, it's okay! He's only on TV."

She says something that might be, "Don't want." It's not quite there but Eddie thinks she's doing a great job lately with her talking, patting her back in a silent well done as he attempts to reassure her. "Basil's gonna outsmart him, Junie. The Great Mouse Detective is gonna save the day, scout's honour."

"No," she whines softly.

He covers her unhappy face with his hand.

"It's okay," he murmurs, melted and bemused. "It's okay, junebug. I swear."

Despite his best efforts, she starts to cry. Eddie freezes up because she doesn't cry often, not with him. When she does you're always there to find a solution. He supposes the novelty of being a new person has long worn off, and that he's going to have to make more of an effort than just tickling her or petting her hair to make it better.

Her volume increases. He shushes her, clumsy and awkward but earnest, trying the best that he can to make it up. He offers candies and drinks, he rummages through your baby bag for Mr. Bear. She takes it all but none of it lasts.

Someone in the chair behind him coughs pointedly.

Eddie turns to wake you up. He gets one good look at your face and can't follow through.

You're sleeping deeply, at the movie theatre of all places. How tired are you, and why hadn't you said? He'd known to some extent — it's why he'd offered to drive — but with the movie blaring and all the kids and noise and now Junie's crying, he realises you must be exhausted to sleep through it. Why hadn't he noticed? He kicks himself.

He lifts her up with his head angled down, giving your shoulder a swift squeeze and then bumping down the steps with Junie until he's out into the lights of the hallway. The door swings closed.

It's oddly quiet and extremely bright. Junie stops crying to blink, and starts to cry again once she's adjusted.

Eddie does not know what to do. It's a kick to his ego that he quickly accepts, though he does murmur a rueful, "Babe, I thought you liked me."

Lost on deaf ears, his comment hangs in the air.

He pats her back some more, wracking his brain for how you take care of her when she gets like this. Mostly, you're patient. You hum and you wait. Eddie tries to emulate you and your kind heart, walking her up and down the hall as he taps the bottom of her spine.

"It's okay," he repeats. The more he says it the easier it feels. It is okay. He has to find a way to help June understand that, is all.

She grizzles. It's a long process. A couple of times he wonders if he's in over his head, if it's even his place, if he should wake you up and admit defeat.

But Eddie Munson is trying to prove something.

He works Mr. Bear out of Junie's iron grip and pinches his back taut so that his face and arms wiggle when he wants them to.

"Baby June," he begins, in as gruff a voice as he can manage. He tries to channel his uncle's sternness, and his fondness. "Won't you quit crying? You're getting tears on the neck of your t-shirt and all over your cheeks."

Junie quietens. She still cries, but the severity of the situation noticeably shifts.

Eddie keeps on. "I got just the thing," he says, pushing Mr. Bear forward and making smacking sounds as he kisses both of her cheeks. "Gotta kiss these tears right off a'you."

She laughs as Mr. Bear kisses her face dry and laughs some more when Eddie kisses the top of her head.

Eddie loves Junie.

He knows it for a fact.

She's very easy to love. She's beautiful as you are, she's loving, she's sweet. Her laugh is adorable and her smile is more. When she cries, Eddie finds he's never annoyed. Grated by the repetitive sound, maybe, but he can't find it in himself to be mad with her ever. He wants to help her work through it. To get you both through it. Eddie wants to be good at this.

He has Mr. Bear kiss Junie all over her face.

"See?" Mr. Bear asks. "Isn't that better? No more tears, little girl, or we'll never see the end of the movie!"

As Eddie says it, he wonders if taking her back into the theatre is a good idea.

"Hey, junebug?" he says, all drama set aside.

Junie lifts her flushed face.

He smiles gratefully. "Do you wanna go back inside? Go check on mommy?" Leaving you by yourself doesn't exactly sit right with him.

Ah, there's the face he was expecting. Puzzlement, surprise. Junie frowns at him and looks over his shoulder, her own, searching the empty hallway for you and finding only reflective floor lights and patterned carpet.

Eddie starts back into the screen room before she can cry over your being missing, chatting quietly but in a way that commands her attention. He's effective in the art of distraction if nothing else.

The mouse detective and his friends have defeated Professor Ratigan, though Eddie shields Junie's head from the screen in case he's thinking about making a comeback, finding his way back to you in the dark. He picks over other people's snacks and then the abundance of your own, finding you still sound asleep. The sight doesn't spell good tidings.

"Here she is," Eddie tells Junie, "here's mom. You wanna give her a kiss?"

He sits down in his seat and squishes a bag of gummy worms under his boot. Junie immediately bends over the armrest and grabs at your front. You'd worried to him once that she had separation anxiety, and Eddie didn't know anything about it to agree or not. This display makes him think she might. She's clinging to you, desperately wanting your attention.

Eddie winces as she grabs your face. She's obviously not trying to be cruel, hand stroking over your cheek as you'd stroke hers.

"Mom," she whispers, the action itself enough to get Eddie laughing. Her version of whispering is almost like a character in a pantomime.

He doesn't laugh for very long. You're not easy to wake up. Junie squishes your cheek and tries again. "Mommy," she says.

You groan in your sleep and your eyes scrunch together. "What?" you murmur finally, voice scratchy.

"You're missing the movie," Eddie says, patting your thigh.

Your arms come to life before you do. You wrap them around Junie's short torso and encourage her up your chest until you can nose at the top of her head. You rub slow lines, a steady back and forth. Eddie would bet money you don't have a clue in the world where you are.

"S'loud," you complain. Your voice is weak with sleep.

Junie looks at Eddie weirdly. He suspects it's her way of asking him to help out without asking.

He tenses his hand where it rests at your thigh. "Do you wanna go home?"

You don't answer. You go limp under his touch and Junie's weight, nose and lips set in a frown but otherwise near languid.

Eddie's small (and alarmingly ever-present) worry for you multiplies by a hundred.

He grabs up a bag of chips and entices your daughter back onto his thigh. She digs through half the bag as the movie draws to a finish, distracted if not happy, her face and fingers swiftly flaked in corn dust. The lights are thrown up and the noise is immense, a hundred pairs of shoes over tipped popcorn, babies and young kids unsettled, their parents eager to head home and watch their own movies no doubt.

Eddie can't say he'd really watched the film besides precursory glances, his focus on you and your fidgety offspring. He'd been excited to tell you about his Junie success, but now he just wants to get you home.

He says your name as clearly as he can, his hand finding its way to your thigh for the third time. He rubs down toward your knee and gives your leg a shake.

Junie climbs off of his own. Now the lights are on she can see the grand assortment of snacks laid out before her, and she seems eager to try them all.

You eventually, thankfully rouse, you drag a palm over your eyes and cross your legs, squishing his hand in the process. He steals it back.

"Babe, you gotta get up. The attendants are looking at us funny. I think they think I've run you ragged, and while the dad tag doesn't bother me, 'cruel husband' doesn't suit me."

"What?" you ask.

He shrugs. "Junie pissed her pants."

Your eyes open, lashes parting clumsily. You move like the air around you has turned to glue and moan in a quiet display of agony as your neck clicks. "She leaked through?"

"Nah, I'm messing with you. Movie's done. Getting some weird stares."

You're quiet, but you shrug on your jacket and Eddie packs what he can of the leftover candy into your bag. He swings it over his shoulder.

"You wanna come up?" he asks Junie.

She raises both arms.

You stand on shaky legs. Eddie stations Junie on one hip with one arm wrapped around her and holds out the other. You let him fold you up into his side.

"You okay?" he asks.

Your face drops into his shoulder. "I'm so tired."

"You're alright to walk out to the car?"

His worry is like a rubber band. You snap to attention, disengage from his hold. It's a foreign and really uncomfortable feeling to see you out of sorts.

Eddie walks behind you with a hand nearly but not touching your back. If you topple, he's not sure how he's gonna save you. Determined anyways, he guards you down the hollow stairs and through the hallway, one step behind you.

It's a cool, crisp night outside.

The smell of rain sticks around. You lift your chin. It's much colder now that night's fallen. The breeze kisses your damp skin. When did you start sweating?

He presses his hand to your shoulders and guides you across the road.

Junie starts her lovely babbling in his ear. "Mouse 'tective," she says at one point. You don't react, affirming his theory: you're more than tired. You're sick.

"Mouse detective," he agrees, arm around your shoulder to assuage his own worries as he gives Junie the best of his attention. "You liked that one, huh?" Besides the evil Professor. "Better than the Muppets in New York? Junebug, you little traitor. How easily your favour changes."

"Are you surprised? She took to you like," — you yawn wide enough that Eddie feels it under his arm, a full body thing — "a duck to water."

He beams, relieved to hear your voice. "Yeah, well, I'm special."

"That's true."

Eddie walks you around to the passenger side and opens your door.

"Flirting! Awesome. You're not too sick to forget how much of a catch I am. Watch your head."

"I gotta do Junie's straps," you say.

"I think I can do it by now."

He's only sort of bluffing. It takes him much longer than it would've taken you. He celebrates his win by pinching her cheek lightly and then whacking his head hard on the roof of your car.

"Fuck," he mutters as he jogs around the hood, scrubbing at the back of his head.

You're staring at him as he opens the door.

He puts the baby bag in your lap and shoves the key in the ignition, trying not to buckle under the weight of your gaze. He cracks quicker than he should, hand paused in its action.

"What?"

"You tryna give yourself a concussion?"

"Kiss it better?"

You kiss the tip of your finger and touch it to his head. It's an instant healing potion.

Getting you both home is easy enough, it's the trying to leave that's hard. You collapse heavily into the couch, Junie drapes herself over your lap and begs for her clothes to be taken off. Your second wind has worn away to nothing, leaving you plainly exhausted.

Eddie can't go home, not until he knows you're alright.

He slinks into your bedroom and tries not to look around too much. It feels like an invasion of privacy despite having made it in here a couple of times, always with his hip to the door as you search for something. He fails spectacularly and straight away, always hungry to know more about you. These days especially.

Your bed looks like you shook out the duvet but never tucked the corners. Your pillow's on the floor, your thin throw blanket is screwed up in a ball. There's a bunch of Junie's stuffies against the headboard. He grins at their straight backs.

He makes for your wardrobe, a cheap bit of cherry wood with one sagging door. As much as he wants to outfit Junie in her goodwill band t-shirt, he pulls a soft pair of cotton pyjamas out from a neatly folded stack, thumbing the blue fabric fondly. There's a noticeable disparity between her clothes and yours. One work skirt and one work shirt hang from two lonely hangers, accompanied only by your infamous 'best jeans'. He frowns at a small stain at the knee and scratches it fruitlessly. Not her best jeans, he thinks in horror, picturing your unhappy face. He can see it so clearly, the pinching of your brows.

Junie squeals happily from the living room. Eddie remembers himself and follows the sound, finding you both on the ground. You're kneeling, blowing raspberries into Junie's naked stomach where she lays on her changing mat, a discarded diaper and her dirty clothes to the side.

There's a big break between raspberries where your eyes drift shut sluggishly. Junie whines for another.

Eddie sits next to you. Stupidly close, his crossed leg kisses your thigh. He could wrap you up in a hug easily right here, and he wants to. Your tired face has his stomach aching with guilt.

"Sweetheart," he says to you firmly, "get back on the couch. You look like you're gonna fall asleep right here."

You don't argue, leaving Eddie the impossible duty of dressing your baby. Junie hates the shirt more than he can describe, loathes the fabric as it covers her face. He has to pick her up to get her into her pants, another fury. She forgives him easily once he's done, lingering by his side with Mr. Bear in hand. She pinches his back and imitates Eddie's low growl, laughing at herself as she does. She finds it very funny. Eddie can't help giggling with her.

"Eddie?" you ask.

He turns. You look miserable.

"What?" he asks softly, startled by your intense expression.

"Thank you."

"Oh, baby," he says, loud and brash as he twists where he is to grab both of your knees. He practically throws himself at you, at your feet, ducking his cheek to your leg. "You really are sick as a dog."

You look visibly embarrassed.

"Listen," he says, insistent, "If we start saying thank you to each other, we won't stop. We'll be a loop of thank yous."

"I think I have more to say than you do," you murmur.

He shakes his head, exasperated at your inability to see him for what he is even now. It's funny. Eddie thinks you've a better view of him than anybody else, that you see him more generously than anyone has ever seen him, and you still haven't noticed he's a boy in love.

You must feel his grin as he kisses your knee, his thumb stroking over the ridge of the cap.

"If I started to say thanks for all the things you've given me I wouldn't stop. I'd talk myself hoarse," Eddie argues.

You laugh at his dungeon master dramatics, but reaffirm, "I haven't given you anything."

"You don't know what you've given me," he says into your leg.

Eddie lifts his head, weary of his chin digging into your leg.

Now isn't the best time to declare devotion, or drop kisses into you when you can't offer any in return. Not that he's expecting you to. Not that he wouldn't receive them gratefully.

"I should go home."

You reach for him. Your hand moves slowly like you've a weight around your wrist, but your fingertips curve over his cheek; you move from the corner of his lip, under his eye, and then finish your circle at the skin beneath his ear.

"Can you hug me?" you ask.

"Yeah," Eddie says. He doesn't waste any time.

He gets up, slides a knee between your knees and rests his full weight on the couch between them as his arms curve around you and his hands feel for the dip of your lower back. He clutches without any hesitation.

"Can I? Did you mean it like that? My arms work fine."

You curl your arms around him and groan. "You're gonna crush me."

"Really?" He pulls you closer. "How 'bout now?"

"Ow," you whine.

He laughs and pushes his face toward your ear. "Liar," he whispers. "No way that hurts."

"Why's everybody always on top of me?"

"That's your issue?" He pulls back. "You want to sit in my lap?"

"No!"

"Aw, my poor girl. You totally wanna sit in my lap. Alright, get in it."

He sits down beside you and waits, one arm still behind your back. He gives you an encouraging tug.

"I'm not sitting in your lap."

"I didn't think you would, just- Just c'mere," he prompts, pulling your face into his chest.

Your arms slide around his waist. He can feel the scratchy skin on your left index finger, a scar of a recent kitchen accident, against his hip where his shirt has ridden.

"You're really handsy. Has anyone told you that before?" Eddie asks, trying to cover the entirety of your back with his arms alone.

You push your face as far as it'll go into his chest. Eddie keeps you there, and soon a little body has found its way onto the couch next to you both, demanding to be included. Eddie quickly drags her in.

Long minutes of quiet hugs.

"Wish we could stay like this forever," you murmur.

"Well, I'm not going anywhere. If you were worried."

He massages over the slope of your shoulder, a tight looking muscle. You sigh inaudibly, a hot patch over his heart.

"I wasn't," you say.

Eddie thinks you might finally be on the same page.

You get really, really sick.

"On my days off!" you croak, the injustice too much to handle.

Eddie laughs from the end of your bed, a bandana tied around his face like a doctor from one of his awful horror movies, though the bandana is far from a clinical white. "That's exactly why you're still sick. Your body sensed the weekend."

Hadn't it? You'd been achy and awful on Friday and Benny had sent you home at lunch, citing a need to keep his patrons from infection. Which sucked, because you'd really wanted to stick around for the very beginning of the Friday night rush and get some payday tips. People are generous when they're high on the buzz of a forthcoming weekend, especially to over obsequious waitresses.

It had sucked worse when Junie came out of daycare in the best mood ever and demanded kisses. You'd had a headache the size of a tennis ball behind your eyes and didn't want to pass anything over, and the crushed look on her face had made you cry in the car on the way home.

Eddie dropped in particularly early that night with soup. "I had a feeling," he'd said.

And now here he is again the day after.

"At least one of us is enjoying this," you say.

"You think I'm enjoying this?" Eddie asks.

You give his precautionary outfit a once over. "Yes."

"This is just something I had lying around."

"Shut up! Shut up, no it wasn't!" You're voice cracks, giggly and giddy even with the spikes of pain to your tender head.

"It was. We did a campaign, I was a plague doctor-"

"That is in terrible taste."

"It was perfectly appropriate, thank you very much. You're determined to vilify me. Need to slow down with the cold medicine, I think."

You shriek as he tries to take the bottle. "No! No, please, my throat hurts."

He takes the bottle. It is a hurtful defeat. You curl your fingers around nothing and sulk, slouching down into a sanctuary of pillows and blankets to hide from him. Extra pillows provided by Eddie. With fresh covers, duh. They smell like him anyway. You turn your nose into it indulgently.

"You've had too much to safely be responsible for any further consumption."

"Further consumption," you echo, eyes closing in defeat as he leaves.

"You okay, June?" you hear him ask, voice occluded partially by the sound of the TV.

"Okay, Eddie?" she asks.

You grin to yourself.

"I'm great. This looks very fun. I'm gonna make mom a cold pack for her head and then you can help me make dinner, okay? Does that sound fun? Tell me, June."

The 'Tell me, June,' isn't a command so much as a gentle reminder that she can answer the question if she wants to.

"Fun," she says.

"Hey, great. Oh, thank you. Thank you."

They better not be cuddling without me, you think bitterly, grin swiftly replaced by a self-pitying frown.

You cough into your hand, roil in your own misery for a second and then grab the big glass of water Eddie had insisted on from the night stand. You tip it down yourself in your hurry.

"Missed your mouth," Eddie says, appearing at exactly the wrong moment.

"Don't baby me."

He pads into the room with a cold pack wrapped in a hand towel. "For your head."

"This is silly. I don't need to be in bed."

"Obviously you do. You're sick, did you notice? Stupid question," he adds regretfully, gesturing for you to lie back. He sets the pack to your forehead. "You wouldn't notice a hole in your stomach. You'd be dripping entrails in the freezer aisle wondering if Junie wants corn on the cob or mashed potato with dinner tonight."

"What does she want for dinner tonight?"

"Boo! Exactly my point."

"I'm gonna go ask her-"

Eddie puts an unapologetic hand in the middle of your chest and pushes down. "You will do no such thing." He lowers his face to yours. "I'm willing to get physical. So behave."

You flush with heat because you're sick and not because he says it a certain way, dropping back down into your fluffed pillows without another word.

Eddie's hand climbs up to your collar, your neck. His fingers slide one after another behind it. It's a blessed cold. You can't find a comfortable temperature today, moving between chills and hot flashes at the drop of a hat.

Or a bandana. Eddie unties the dark fabric from his neck and leaves it where it lands, staring at you without saying anything.

His thumb presses into your sore throat carefully, the barest hint of pressure, and his lips part. He doesn't say anything for a while. It looks like he wants to.

"Do me a favour?" he asks finally.

"Of course." Anything to feel useful right now.

"Take it easy." He again lowers his head, talking to you with a private smile. "The sooner you chill out, the sooner you'll beat this thing."

"Don't say that. Like I have something serious."

"The sooner you'll beat this moderate-"

"Mild-"

"-affliction." He strokes quarter-circles into your neck.

"I don't need to lie down. There's things I have to do."

"On a Saturday?"

"Yes. There's things I need to do everyday." You clear your throat. It's useless, the lump remains and your voice stays scratchy. "I have- I always have laundry. So that first. Gotta wash it and put it out and bring it in and press it. I gotta make sure Junie has lunch for daycare this week 'n if she doesn't I have to go get it, I gotta," — you cover his hand with your own thoughtlessly — "make sure her rash is getting better. And I promised we'd do a tea party tomorrow, I have to make sandwiches!"

"We both know she doesn't remember the tea party."

"I promised."

"And if I… If I tried to get all those things done, would you stay in bed?"

"You can't."

"But if I tried it? I can do laundry. I'm good at it. Get oil stains out of Wayne's coveralls every Sunday."

You slump into a lump of sadness and achy arms. "Don't do my laundry. Don't do any of that stuff. I'll punch you if you do."

Eddie bursts into laughter. "You'll punch me? You horrible woman."

"I will," you promise, fingers curling around his arm to hold him in place.

"Why don't I believe you?"

"I don't know. 'Cos you're a know-it-all who dislikes me."

"I far from dislike you." He grins at you, all dimpled and pretty. "I don't believe you'd hit me because I know you, idiot."

"Name-calling."

"Uh-huh. Are you sleeping or am I helping you out onto the couch?"

While you're happy for the compromise, you have one problem. "I don't think I can move."

Eddie lets his face fall amicably to your collar. "No, I bet you can't. More reason for me to get you on the couch. I think you've genuinely had too much cough syrup," he worries, warm breath fanning over your skin.

You bring your spare hand to his head. He has so many curls.

He lifts his head and you're close enough to kiss. There's no other reason anyone has ever been this close.

"I can see your beauty mark," you say, hushed. You don't wanna breathe on him too much.

"Freckle."

"Your freckle." You lift and drop his curls, fingers toying through the softness towards his roots, the frizz at the ends.

"You- You smell like fucking cherry syrup."

You abandon his hair to clap a hand over your mouth. "I'm sorry."

He covers his own mouth. "It's okay," he says, similarly muffled. "I like the sweet stuff."

What the fuck does that mean? Your stomach doesn't flip — it leaps right up into your throat. "You're an idiot," you breathe, caught off guard.

"What was that?" he asks, taking away his hand. "Didn't catch it."

"I said, 'You're an-"

"Amazing friend and confidante?"

You try to talk and he says, "A real stand-up guy?"

You try again and he says, "A total rockstar? Baby, if you really think all this you should've said."

You flop completely onto your back, away from his hands, his jokes and his lovely brown eyes where they bore into your own. Eddie hums and rubs brashly over the top of your arm until the skin glows with heat.

"Please stay in bed," Eddie says as he stands.

Medicine or his touch, you're feeling pretty tired. You pull up your blankets and sink like a stone, head disappearing into a mess of pillows and throws.

It's much later when you wake. You move into the land of the living abrupt as whiplash.

Eddie seems very sorry. "Sweetheart, June's past due for a new diaper, and I-"

"Oh, right," you say, sounding much more alert than you feel. You're a girl made of sandpaper.

"I would've, I mean. If it wouldn't make you uncomfortable, I would've tried. But I've never changed a diaper in my life."

You scratch your flaky eyes, disorientated and head like a boiling saucepan with the lid glued on.

"That's okay," you say. Your voice refuses to cooperate with you, gruff and too quiet. "It wouldn't bother me, but it's also not your job, so… Um." You yawn wide and cover your entire face.

You spend a minute rubbing your eyes.

"Fuck, what time's it?" you ask, squinting at him and bringing your hands to either side of your face.

"Like, seven. Ish."

"Eddie…"

"I know. I thought you could use the rest. I knew you could. And it's not urgent, you know? Come around, first. Everything's stellar."

You peel back the sheets. You're a clammy, too-hot mess with weak legs.

Eddie sees you wobble and rushes to wrap an arm around your waist. Completely unnecessarily, heart-achingly kind. You wince at the dampness of your shirt under his touch.

Junie sits on the couch in her jammies with a yellow-green soup stain down the front. She's propped up like a princess, a pillow behind her head between the armrest and her blanket covering her legs, cheek pressed to the cushions. Eyes trained on the TV and her bottle propped in a slackening grip, your baby is peaceful, near luxurious.

Only a little wiggle might suggest she's uncomfortable.

You part from Eddie's side and sit down beside her, the seat warm. She doesn't even look up.

"What, no hi for mom?" you ask tenderly, hand falling to the top of her head. She's lovely.

She gasps, little lungs fit to burst. It's pure excitement, her bottle dislodged and the blanket pushed away immediately. She doesn't bother getting to her feet, throwing herself into your lap and assuming you'll do the rest. Of course you will. You pull her up and kiss the top of her head, though you quickly hold her at arm's length.

"Sorry, mommy's still sick," you tell her, sympathetic at her crushed expression.

"Mis'd," she says.

"Yeah? You missed me?" you ask hopefully.

Her lips part in comprehension. "Missed you," she confirms.

You throw your gaze over your shoulder to Eddie. He stands by Junie's changing station with a smug smile. "What?"

"You're not very convincing."

"I'm not trying to convince you, thanks," he says, holding up two hands in surrender.

"She didn't learn that herself," you argue.

"She might've. You tell her enough."

You go back to your girl, pleased at her own smug smile. "I missed you, too, I missed you so much. Missed you millions. Sorry I've been sleeping all day, you've been such a good girl. She has, hasn't she?"

Eddie sorts through a nearly empty bag of diapers and brandishes one with fish printed on the back. "Oh, yeah. Junebug's been amazing. She came in with me to see you earlier, took your temperature." You frown. "From a distance. Kind of. I held her above you. It was… acrobatic."

You close your eyes at his absurdity, your laugh prompting another spike of pain.

Junie forces herself closer and gets both arms around your neck.

You sag into the contact, defeated. "Aw, June," you mumble ruefully. "M'trying to make sure you don't get sick too. Wasting my time."

"Mommy," she says into your neck.

"That's me."

You know she has something she wants to say. You can't wait for the days where she can. Exciting, to think that one day she'll be able to share all of her thoughts.

Right now, she's probably thinking, Woah, mom, you smell weird. And you look weirder.

You feel her back with your hand and cringe. Definitely time to get her changed.

Afterward, you sit with your back to the open front door on one of the porch steps. Physical exertion of any kind seems to be inadvisable; you're sweating up a storm. Junie sits beside you at her own insistence, her hand clasped in your hand and her head on your arm. You look down at her thighs next to your own and marvel at their small size. The evening breeze is a blessing.

Eddie stands in front of you with his backpack slung over his shoulder and a checklist.

"Tea party sandwiches are badly made and saran wrapped in the fridge. Junie doesn't have lunch for Monday but I can go tomorrow if you want me to. Her clothes are folded in the hamper. Uh, some stuff got left out, you might need to press them. Not tonight though, please."

"Thank you."

He talks around a smile. "Soup's on the stove. I'll come back later, if-"

"You don't have to."

"I want to. I wouldn't actually leave, but-"

"Eddie-" You cough into your shoulder. He waits for you to finish. "You- You didn't have to take care of me."

"What does that mean? Of course I did."

He hikes his backpack higher up his shoulder and pads back up the steps, not all of them but enough for him to lean down and stare at Junie.

"Thanks for the best day ever," he says seriously, looking out of the corner of his eye at you. "Almost. See you later?"

Junie nods voraciously and reaches up with her empty hand. Eddie takes it and kisses her temple. He does the same to you, lips brushing soft as downy-feather over your skin.

"I'll come back around ten? Is that cool?"

"Don't knock too loudly," you mumble, very aware of his proximity.

He backs up and bows like an idiot, hand moving in circles.

You and Junie wave him off.

"To work?" Junie asks.

Your eyebrows jump as you pull your gaze from his retreating figure. "Huh?"

"To work?"

You play with her fingers. "No, he's not going to work. He's going to take care of someone else, now."

Wayne, Eddie said, in a fondly exasperated tone that explained everything you needed to know. His uncle's self-preservation must come in similar disinterest to himself as yours does to you.

"We'll see him tomorrow," you say. It's not even a lie, you will both see him tomorrow.

But apparently he's coming back tonight.

True to his word, Eddie Munson knocks your door carefully at nearing ten o'clock.

Wayne's dismissal chases his heels. He'd spent an hour worrying about you at the dinner table with his uncle, fingers curling anxiously in his hair.

Wayne had been talking about some gab the boys in the shop had heard about killer mice or killer lice or something when he'd suddenly cleared his throat and snapped Eddie to attention.

"You're a good kid. Notice how I said good, and not smart," Wayne had said.

"Gee, thanks. You always did know how to make a guy feel loved, Wayne."

"You don't wanna be here."

Eddie had frowned. "Obviously I do."

"Kid, what I mean is, you gotta," — he'd nodded his head hard to one side and raised his eyebrows — "you know."

"Haven't brushed up on my mysterious gestures lately. Translate that one for me?"

Wayne had flicked up his newspaper and sighed. "Don't be dumb."

"You keep saying that."

"You keep being dumb, boy."

"I don't know what you want me to do."

"Think you better go look after your girl, don't you?" Wayne had asked finally, clearing his throat.

So here he is to look after you. A tad early, worried you'll be sleeping on the couch with a misbehaving baby in your lap or passed out in the bathroom after an impromptu cleaning.

Thankfully, you open the door in different clothes than he'd left you in, the neckline dark with run-off and face damp under your eyes and by your ears. You dab at your tacky skin with your index knuckle.

"You look better," he says. He wishes he could take it back instantly, though you don't take any offence.

"Hot shower," you explain.

You step back to let him in. Eddie closes the door behind him without turning, eyes glued to your fresh face. He's depressed by the lingering fatigue he finds lining your darling features.

"You okay?" you ask him, perturbed by his silence.

Eddie's better than okay.

He steps close. You look like you might step back, make room for him he doesn't want, so he reaches out for your face and holds it in one hand, the other landing in tandem on your arm.

Your cheek lists into his hand as he wipes away what's left of the dampness on your face. He's not sure you know you're doing it.

"Did you take any more medicine?" he asks quietly, rubbing under your eye carefully with the tip of his thumb.

"No, I- I think you fixed me, Munson. Me and Junie had your soup, and after a shower I felt way better. It was really nice. She slept easy."

He presses the back of his hand to your forehead. "You don't feel too hot."

"Like I said. Fixed me. My hero."

He looks over your shoulder at your life — at his life, or at least where a majority of it seems to take place. All his favourite parts these days happen right there on your couch, or at that table, or knee to knee with a baby that isn't his but- but-

"You said that to me the first time we met," Eddie recalls, shaking his head. It's like there's water in his ears. A few strands of hair drift into his eyes.

You catch his elbows in both hands. "It feels like a really long time ago now."

Months. Only months. "I feel like I've known you for years."

He strokes over your face, chin to cheek, the tip of his thumb pressed to the corner of your mouth.

"That's how I feel, too," you whisper. Utter. Hushed, your words ring loud anyway. "You're my best friend."

Eddie doesn't take it for a door closing because it isn't. It's a door kicked wide open. Split on its hinges. You and Eddie stand on equal ground, and, for once, the same page.

"You know I don't mind taking care of you?" he asks, hand passing over your ear to hide behind it. He wants to see all of your face.

Predictably, you drop your eyes to his neck, pupils wobbling as you search for somewhere to plant yourself. "I know. I'm not sure I deserve it."

"Why wouldn't you deserve it? Everyone deserves taking care of."

"Even murderers?"

"Maybe not murderers-"

"The evil guys from your game? Necromancers?"

"They're not all evil." His left palm skirts up the curve of your neck, encouraging your face back to his. "Don't change the subject."

You press your lips together, caught.

"I actually…" — he gathers as much bravery as he has — "want to take care of you."

"You do."

He holds your face in both hands. "You know you- You know you started it, right? You know it's- that without your-" He cringes internally at his stammering, but he has to get this part right. "You have gold where your heart should be."

"Y/N The Golden Hearted. Doesn't have the best ring to it," you muse, hands clinging to the crooks of his elbows like twin pooled teardrops waiting to fall.

Eddie stares at you, floored.

"What about you?"

"What about me?" he asks.

"What's your name?" you demand, grinning.

"Eddie the Subtle. Munson the Mad."

You huff a laugh. "That's a cop-out."

"Maybe."

"How about…" The air feels thick as jelly. Light from under the bedroom door stops short of your legs, your toes almost touching. His rubber soles, your socks. "Eddie the Indomitable?"

He crinkles his nose. "I'd almost think you were trying to flirt with me, that's how bad that is."

Your blinks are slow. Your eyes soften.

"What if I was?" you ask.

A stock-still silence pervades, filled only by the hum of the refrigerator and the droning of the bathroom light, left on. He could tell you the contents of this room by its sounds alone.

His hand moves of its own accord, up and down the slope of your neck. "I'd say you needed a better pick up line."

"Like what?" you ask, chest rising too fast.

Eddie takes a step and feels his jacket zipper cut into the cotton of your shirt. It's your matching band t-shirt.

Eddie drags his gaze slowly to your widened eyes, your lashes as they move almost imperceptibly upward. Taking him in as he inches closer.

"You're so fucking pretty," he says.

He leans in. He closes the gap. Eddie Munson takes the leap.

Your hand comes quickly to his upper arm and you turn your face just enough to force his lips, his kiss landing a centimetre shy of your nose.

He struggles to keep his eyes closed. His heart thrums like a blown amp.

"You can't kiss me," you say. Eddie struggles to discern your tone.

His nose presses to yours. Not desperately, but almost. "I can't?" he asks, throat thick with emotion, a stickying, cloying taffy.

"I'll make you sick."

He turns your face with his palm, lips hovering above yours, a hair's width. Close enough to feel their heat.

"Can I trust you'll nurse me back to health, in the event that that happens?" Would you take care of me? His hands tremble where they're touching you. He's too scared to open his eyes.

You don't answer.

You cover his hands and the seconds stretch endlessly, a thousand moments of terror and pining and want suddenly flattened into one as you kiss him.

He exhales against you. His relief is a palpable, viscous thing as he pulls you in and his nose digs into yours. Lips soft as he'd imagined, as he'd known they'd be, you kiss back tentatively. Sweetly.

You're kissing him like he's something that needs a careful touch.

Eddie screws his eyes shut tight enough to see stars, firecrackers, a shattering bouquet of colours as you move beneath him. He can't believe he's kissing you. He can't believe there was a time where he wasn't.

He yields, leaning back just enough to see your face. You keep your eyes shut, your eyelashes kissing the delicate skin beneath. They move like blades of grass in the breeze as Eddie tries to catch his breath, regaining some of his composure. It's hard while he's here, this close.

You make a small sound, a breath like a barb. The shaky demarcation of tears.

"Okay?" he asks, more movement than sound. His lips skip over your own.

You have to feel it.

A laugh bubbles up through your parted lips like a hiccup. "I'm definitely gonna make you sick," you mumble regretfully.

"Make me sick, sweetheart," he says, begs. Whatever.

Whatever word you want to use. He doesn't care if he pays for it afterwards, he wants to be close to you now, unapologetically close. And kissing you — kissing you like this, your reciprocation, it's everything because it means you feel the same as he does.

Or a fraction the same. He's reassured either way. If you felt a fraction of what he felt, that's enough.

It's a lot. To be touching you, finally. He grabs at the nape of your neck and kisses, kisses, kisses. He goes slowly, not quite sweetly. He's never been as sweet as you have, never as soft or patient.

It doesn't feel like it matters.

You pull his hands from your face, press his and your own, all four hands to the collar of your shirt.

"It wasn't just a, uh, pick up line, was it?" you ask breathlessly.

"Wh- No." Eddie massages the back of your hands. "No, you're the fucking prettiest girl ever. I think you're aces. Killer. Everything."

"Everything," you say, an almost indecipherable glassiness to your eyes.

"Everything," he says. He spreads his hand over your heart.

You don't throw yourself at him, but you move alarmingly quickly. Arms over his shoulders, hands crossed and buried in his hair. Your laugh is magic, a bright and exuberant sound loud in his ear and then the skin underneath. He's barely got an arm around the small of your back when you start to kiss him, repetitive, chaste pecks over his pulse. It capers under your lips.

"I don't know what kind of girl you think I am-" He begins deadpan and breaks abruptly, your second wave of laughter impossible to ignore.

Your arms tighten at his laughing, palm cupping the back of his head.

"You're my best friend, too," he says. "But you knew that."

"Maybe," you murmur, your smile wide against his skin. You're uncharacteristically mischievous.

He lets his back bend under your weight until your heels lift and you're scrabbling to stay on your own two feet and is rewarded by your shrieking laughter.

Oh, god, he thinks, ecstatic.

"Wait," you say, bargaining for freedom as he squeezes you hard enough to make you laugh again, and again, "wait, wait! Wait, let go. I have something to tell you."

Eddie sets you down. He's reluctant to let you go, almost desperate to hug you now that he knows he can, but his curiosity gets the better of him. What could you have to tell him now that isn't confessional? It's like being promised something good.

You stand sure and sweet in front of him.

"It's…" You look shyly at his lips.

"What?"

"I…"

He shakes his head gently from side to side. "What? Tell me."

"Nothing," you say, beaming. Act dropped, you take his face into both hands and kiss him soundly.

Eddie's barely got his hands on you before you're pulling back.

"Just wanted to do that," you say.

𓆩❤︎𓆪

thank you for reading! | my masterlist | this fic is multi-chapter

if you enjoyed (i I really hope you did), please reblog! i promise it makes a difference ♡

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x reader fluff #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader #stranger things 4 #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x afab reader #mom!reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson oneshot #stranger things fanfiction #fem!reader #Single mom!reader #reader insert

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spideyhexx · 5 months

Note

sub!snowjanus x dom!reader where she finds them doing it together without permission and punishes them. maybe bratty!coryo idkk. ALSO I LOVE YOUR WRITING -(🍒 anon (IF ITS NOT TAKEN YET))

THAT IS ALL YOURS AND THANK YOU SM THIS IS GREAT

also ty to @goosita and @floralcyanide for talking through this concept with me and making me write this tonight instead of tomorrow <3 I popped off with this.

mdni

Coryo was well aware you told him and Sej to not fool around or even touch themselves this next week. You were busy and you wanted to have some excitement to look forward to at the end of a long and stressful week and this was the way you thought you'd get it; having a night or even a day of pleasure with your two lovers who have been built up all week. It sounded like a dream.

But Coryo is an evil little shit. You knew this. Sej knew it. Coryo knew it. But he's never attempted something as risky as this.

With only half the week gone by, he's losing his mind. He's gotten so used to your and Sej's touches that now he's spiraling without it. He doesn't even think to jack off, knowing it wouldn't feel the same.

Coryo has a different plan.

One night, he gets Sej to invite him over while you're still working. Sej is no fool. He can see it in Coryo's eyes. The way he lingers his hand on Sej's arm or how he kept bumping his knee against Sej's own as they sat in bed, talking.

While Sej usually had a lot more self-control, he has to admit to himself the week has been torturous for him too. Ever since Coryo joined your relationship, the need to satiate his desires has only heightened.

So it's no surprise that when Coryo leans in to kiss Sej, his hand moving from the boy's arm to his thigh, Sej gives in. Coryo is surprised at how quickly Sej leans into the touch, his kisses more urgent than he's ever felt them before. "She's gonna be so mad," Sej mumbles as Coryo's fingers make quick work of undoing Sej's pants.

"She's not here right now," Coryo says, in almost an irritated tone. His brow is furrowed and he smiles against Sej's lips when he wraps his hand around Sej's length, stroking it in slow, painful movements until Sej breaks, pushing Coryo down onto his back in bed.

"We have to be fast," Sej mutters, only pulling Coryo's own trousers down enough to get his cock out as he lays over the boy, pressing himself flush against him and grinding their dicks against one another.

Coryo's smirk etches deep into his face at the feeling, letting himself moan out, "fuck, finally," and Sej laughs, burying his head into Coryo's neck as he rocks his hips against Coryo.

This feeling, his blood rushing only to his dick as he gets harder, the ache burning deep within him as he feels Sej's sweaty body trembling above him, both of them so desperate after only a couple days without a release. The way Coryo was rolling his hips up against Sej to make the boy moan into his neck and the light little kisses that Sej would leave on his skin. This feeling makes it all worth it.

Even when the door opens and you're standing, your jaw about to drop at the sight.

Coryo sees you first, patting Sej's shoulder gently and he turns, going red in the face when he locks eyes with you. Coryo still has a smirk on his face and that is all you can focus on.

Without a word, you put your bag down, your coat following, and then your shoes. You take your time, knowing both of them have sat up and Sej is the first one to speak, "I'm sorry, doll, w-we were so worked up and I...we missed being able to-"

"I know baby," you coo at Sej, moving near him and cupping his face in your hands, giving his forehead a light kiss, mumbling against it, "but you still broke my rules." You feel him try to nod in your hold and his eyes shine big at you. "I'm s-sorry," he says in a hushed whisper and your eyes dart to Coryo who's sat back against the pillows.

"Sej, baby, can you go get the ties from my closet?" His eyes trail up and down your face before nodding and you let go of him, beckoning Coryo to come closer. He obeys, to your surprise and you give him a soft smile.

It almost makes him lose his demeanor because he knows by now you're not thinking of anything soft. "I take it you started this?"

He nods, not afraid to admit this to you, "What was I supposed to do? We wanted to fuck around, so we did. Your rule was pointless."

You raise a brow, a little surprised by his confidence, something you so rarely see from him in bed. "Honey, if you want to be that way-"

"What way?" His head is held high as if he's challenging you, wanting to see exactly how far you'd go.

Your smile drops a little and you lean closer to him, kissing the corner of his lips, "If you want to be a brat, I'll treat you like one. You haven't learned this yet, but I don't take these things lightly, honey." You kiss the corner of his lips again before backing away and nodding over to your desk chair.

"Go sit down there." Coryo takes a moment to listen, his eyes a little wide at your words and you can practically see the gears turning in his head, his shoulders slumping into submission, but he holds his head high again, getting up from the bed.

"Oh, and take all your clothes off?" You smile sweetly at him, it almost sickens him.

You help Sej undress after he brings the ties out for you and you lean to whisper in his ear, "Can you tie Coryo's hands tight behind his back for me? Behind the chair,." Sej follows your instructions and while Coryo scoffs, he lets him do it.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" You ignore him, sitting on the edge of your bed and undressing yourself.

Full-heartedly, Coryo thinks you're gonna be down on your knees for him any minute now. Almost every time he's in your desk chair, you're sitting between his legs on the floor with his cock down your throat, so his mind naturally wanders to that being your course of action.

Sej on the other hand has been at the mercy of your punishments before and he has a faint idea of what you plan to do to the blonde boy now tied to your chair.

"Sej, come here," you say, your voice soft and it's throwing Coryo for a loop. "You know he broke your rules too?"

"I know, honey, but I also know that you're the reason he gave in. So just sit there and look pretty, okay?" You give him another one of your sweet smiles and Coryo takes a deep breath, already starting to squirm against his restraints. You tug Sej onto the bed with you, pushing his head down before he can kiss your lips.

"No, baby. You gotta earn that back." Sej nods obediently, trailing kisses down your chest to your tummy. You lay back where Coryo once was, Sej parting your legs and looking up at you, "will this let me earn it back?"

"Mmm, yes. Good boy." He lets out a shuddered breath and kisses your inner thigh. Once. Then twice, nipping at the skin and urging your thighs to spread more. Sej repeats the same kisses to your other thigh, biting a little more against the skin and you tangle your fingers into his curls, pushing his head closer to your core.

"Enough of that," you grunt, Sej's hands rubbing from your knees up to your thighs and gripping them tightly as he presses his nose to your clit, as if he's savoring, taking in your scent. You let him hold your thighs apart, the feeling of his warm hands against your skin was too alluring, too perfect.

You told yourself you wouldn't even spare a glance at Coryo, but you do. His gaze is laser-focused on the two of you and you smirk as you see his hardened cock resting up against his tummy, his teeth seemingly biting into the skin of his inner cheek.

"Do you..." you trail off in a moan as Sej's tongue plunges into you, licking into you like you're his last meal. "Do you have something to say, Coryo?"

"I-I want to touch you," he says and you chuckle, tilting your head back with a groan as Sej presses his nose to your clit harder, your hips bucking up to grind into his face. "I don't care what you want, honey," you breathe out through little gasps, Sej's tongue fucking into you with a skill that he's only improved on every single time.

You hear Coryo hold back a whine, your cute little nickname for him sounding so filthy on your tongue as his own head tips backward in frustration. He tries to see if he can get out of the ties, but he can't. No tug or pull or twist even lets up the tightness a little bit.

"Sej, baby, you're doing so good for me, f-fuck." Sej moans against you and as his eyes meet yours, you feel yourself come undone on his tongue, his hands holding your hips down so he can lap up all of your release without you squirming too much.

When Sej moves his mouth away from you, you're tugging him up and kissing him. Your legs instinctively wrap around his waist, pulling his body flush against yours, cock resting, aching against you.

Coryo audibly groans, his hips squirming at the sight and he wants to lash out at you so bad. He feels it on the tip of his tongue, something mean, something so angry that he isn't even sure what you or Sej would do, but he can't say it. All he can do is watch, mouth parted as you guide Sej's dick into you, coaxing the man on top of you to bury his head into your neck, just like Coryo had done earlier.

"That's it, baby," you purr into Sej's ear as his hips slowly begin to roll into yours, the thickness of his cock inside of you starting to turn your brain into pure mush, but you regain your focus, massaging the back of his head as he groans into your neck.

"You're doing so well for me, so perfect, you just needed my cunt didn't you?" Sej whines, nodding and you feel his teeth sink into your shoulder.

"P-please," Coryo gasps out. You hear him, but don't reply, kissing the spot beneath Sej's ear and pushing his hips into you deeper with your legs.

Sej is losing his goddamn mind just as much as Coryo is, despite him being the one that gets to feel you, warm, wet, and snug against him. He wants to move faster, but his hips move easily, languidly as if he's trying to get to know every part of you all over again. He also knows you're loving leaving Coryo ignored. He can tell by the way your lips quirk against him when Coryo lets out yet another whine.

His whines feel purposeful like he's trying to make them sound as sad and needy as he can, but there is a shift that tells Sej they're becoming real. Sej longs to see how Coryo looks all tied up right now, but he forgets about that when you bite on his ear, "I know you wanna fuck me harder, baby. You earned it."

He lets out a shaky breath, keeping his head down, too afraid if he looked at your face, he'd bust on the spot. He ruts into you with more force, starting to set a frantic pace that he doesn't let up.

His pent-up desires unfold completely as he fucks into you, your legs holding him so tight, so deep.

"B-baby, please," Coryo begs a little louder, his own hips bucking up into absolutely nothing. He rarely called you that, so you spare him a look.

His cock, drippy and the tip so red makes you want to give in, but you can't. He has to learn. "Coryo, h-honey, please what?" It's hard to talk to him as Sej pounds into you, but you make do, making sure to tug at Sej's curls when he starts hitting the right spot.

"I n-need to cum so bad, please," he whimpers, his hips still moving on their own accord. That's when you see the shine of a few tears on his cheek. "Are you crying?"

He whimpers again and nods his head, closing his eyes. You laugh. A full-on laugh and Sej smiles into your neck. "Oh, my poor, honey. You can't cum."

Coryo starts to plead with you, "N-No no...I need to cum, baby, please...I need it so bad, you don't understand..."

But you shush him, "Be quiet, Sej's gonna make me cum."

You feel Sej groan, as his pace begins to falter and you feel his arms push under you, holding you so close to his body as he spills himself inside of you. You squeeze around him as your own release washes over you, your moans higher than before and you pull on his hair. Sej keeps thrusting into you as you both ride out your orgasms he leaves wet open-mouthed kisses from your shoulder, up your neck to your cheek.

He gives you a lazy smile when your eyes meet and you return it, ruffling his hair. You're lost in a daze with your lover until you hear a choked-out sob from the other end of the room.

Sej pulls away from you, his cock slipping out of you and you're met with the sight of Coryo.

His chest is heaving, his forehead sweaty and his cheeks wet as his eyes glow bluer from the tears still pricking at them.

His tummy is coated in his release, some of it still dripping down his cock and onto his balls. His dick is hardening again as soon as you make eye contact with him, crawling to the edge of the bed and standing up and Sej's release starts to drip down your thigh.

Coryo sniffs, looking up at you as you stand in front of him, "please," he whispers, his lip quivering. You run your hand through his sweaty curls and he moans at the touch alone. "I told you that you couldn't cum, honey."

"I-I know, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I couldn't stop it, I tried so h-hard. Please, believe me, I tried so hard," he rushes out his words, as a tear falls from his eye.

You look down at the cum pooling on his tummy and your chair, then look back into his eyes, "you look so pathetic, honey."

Coryo's jaw clenches and he holds in whatever noise he is about to make. "Actually, you don't look pathetic, you are pathetic." His cock throbs against him at your words and Sej chuckles from his spot on the bed.

Coryo sends him a glare and you quickly kneel onto the chair, your knees on either side of his thighs and you hold yourself above his lap.

"Don't look at my baby that way, he took his punishment." This time Coryo does let himself scoff and roll his eyes, "What punishment? Not being able to k-kiss you? How is this fair?"

His tone comes off harsh but the way he sniffles after it and the way another tear falls from his eyes has you smirking. "You needed to learn, honey. And I'm not done with you." His eyes close at that, his brow creasing, trying to think of what else you could possibly do to him.

You ghost your fingers on his cock before holding it and Coryo's hips buck up. You let him, his tip, leaking already, just shy of prodding at your entrance. "If you want to fuck me, you gotta do it yourself," you taunt, biting on your bottom lip as you lower down just a little so he can easily fuck up into you.

He stares wide-eyed and sees Sej shaking his head in amusement. You cock your head to the side, "well? Are you gonna do it, honey? It's what you wanted, right?"

Coryo whimpers, still sniffly, and nods, pushing his hips up, his cock sliding into you with ease. He's so loud, letting out strained whines and sobs, his cock so fucking sensitive and needing to release again.

He applauds your own self-control as you stay still for him, moaning when he's able fuck up deep into you. But Coryo didn't take into consideration how tiring this would be. With his hands still tied, his leg and hip muscles began to strain, already exhausted from his first orgasm. "My pretty boy, maybe if you hadn't finished before, I'd help you," you coo at him, your hands so close to touching him, but you keep them on the chair.

You don't give in at all and Coryo lets out a frustrated groan, his bottom lip between his teeth as he desperately tries to thrust his dick up into you but he can't find a decent rhythm.

"y-you're so fucking mean," he sobs, and you almost take pity on the way he's starting to cry more.

You ignore his words though, watching him with admiration as he tries to fuck you. Even though the stimulation is weak, you do eventually feel his cock twitch, and his tummy tightens, but before he can even release you lift your hips up.

"f-fuck! B-baby?" His cries were tempting still, but you were determined. You kiss his cheek, the salty taste of his tears on your lips, then move your mouth to his ear.

"If I find out you've made yourself cum over the next four days, I will do this again, maybe even meaner. I won't even let you be in the same room as me and Sej when he fucks me better than you probably can. And you and your pathetic cock can be alone and untouched for even longer. Do you understand me, honey?" You tangle your fingers in his hair and turn his head to look at you.

His eyes are glazed over, lips parted and he nods, "y-yes." You could almost feel Sej's proud look at how well you've taken control.

"good boy," you whisper and give him a gentle kiss on the lips, realizing just how much you missed kissing Coryo.

let's chat about coryo, sej, or both, here :)

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kleftiko · 7 months

Text

❦ ON MY DESK BY MIDNIGHT

“your professor was a strict asshole and you were failing the class. the only thing to do was go to him for extra help, unfortunately, he’s not a patient man.”

cw: teacher/student relationship, age gap, spanking, unprotected sex, sir kink, hate fucking (?)

KINKTOBER MASTERLIST

If looks could kill, your laptop would be six feet under.

You glared at the 29% on your screen as if it would change under intimidation. If it were any other class, the right thing would be to drop, but you needed this credit for your major, and you weren't gonna let your asshole professor stand in the way of your degree. So you closed the tab and opened your email.

Hi, Professor Geto,

I just received my mark on the last test, and I did not do as well as I hoped. Is there any extra material you recommend that I study in order to get a better grade next time? Or are there any tutoring opportunities I could use?

Thank you,

Y/N

Within a couple minutes, you received a response.

Sure.

Office hours tomorrow.

Sent from my iPhone

Besides the fact that he didn't answer your questions, the complete lack of tact from this man plus the shitty grade he gave you just pissed you off, and you ended up slamming your poor laptop closed with petty rage.

God, you hated him. He was always so haughty, acting as if everything around him was boring. You've caught his dark eyes glancing over at you with a condescending smirk more times than you could count. The thought of seeking tutoring opportunities from someone like him only made your blood boil even more.

You hated his stupidly long hair and how it always framed his face and looked so soft. You hated how, when it was warm, he wore short sleeves that showed off his tattoos that you couldn't take your eyes off of. You hated how his deep, velvety voice made you shift in your seat as you imagined him whispering things in your ear.

You hated him.

And you hated thinking about him right now, so with a huff, you turned over and went to sleep.

The next day, you went to his office. Looking through the open door at him, you were reminded of your thoughts last night. He had his hair tied up, those stubborn bangs falling out effortlessly like always, and his buttoned shirt was rolled up around his forearms, a glimpse of inked skin peeking through. Professor Geto was shuffling through some papers when he looked up from his desk and met your eyes.

"You coming in?" He drawled, and you blushed slightly from being caught.

You shuffled inside and closed the door behind you before your fingers started playing with the hem of your skirt. Professor Geto stood up and placed your test on the desk.

"So you don't like your mark." He said and you shook your head. "What do you plan to do about that?"

You frowned. "I emailed you yesterday about tutoring."

"It seems like you don't listen to what I say during lectures; why would you listen now?"

"I do listen to you! Maybe you just suck at teaching."

"Maybe you're a shit student." He retaliated, and all thoughts of his attractiveness went out the window.

You started seething. "I'm there for every lecture!"

"Then maybe if you didn't eye-fuck the boys in class and actually paid attention, you'd have passed."

Your eyebrows shot up to the sky as you seethed, "Excuse me?"

But he just blinked at you.

"Why does it matter if I'm eye-fucking someone?" You blurted.

"It gets a little distracting in class when my students keep talking about who you blew on the weekend instead of working." His sharp gaze cut you down, and you felt bare. But you didn't back out of the challenge.

"Oh, so you're just upset 'cause you're a 35-year-old virgin who can't get any." You surmised, and he smirked.

"Yea? And why are your panties soaked every class?" He took a step forward and towered over you, leaning down slightly and lowering his voice. "Next time you spread your legs under the desk, I like the lacey white ones you wear."

The heat in your face felt like a wildfire, but you refused to let him see your vulnerability. "Who says it's you that gets me wet?" You retorted, standing your ground.

But with one more step toward you, your knees nearly buckled. Almost chest-to-chest with the man, he trailed his fingers up your arm, leaving goosebumps along your skin, before dipping under your skirt. You shuddered at his cool hands, frozen in place as he curled two fingers along your pussy. It took all your strength not to moan at the simple touch.

Retracting his grip, he lifted up his hand in front of the two of you and admired the slick covering his fingers. As he spread them, your stringy juice connected each digit, proof of the lewd thoughts you have for your professor. But then he brings them to your mouth, and you don't know why, but you habitually open your lips and suck your fluid from his fingertips, not breaking eye contact with the man.

"You expect me to believe that wasn't meant for me?" He spoke in a dangerously low voice that caused you to whimper softly around his fingers.

Geto smiled—a sight you had never seen before but could tell was downright sadistic. His eyes gleamed with a mix of satisfaction and power as he watched your submissive reaction. It was clear that he enjoyed having this control over you, relishing in the knowledge that he could make you succumb to his desires without question.

Then he turned away from you, taking back his fingers and casually wiping them on his pressed shirt as he looked down at the graded test. You were confused.

"So, you're not happy with the mark." He repeated. You could sense a hint of amusement in his voice, as if he found your disappointment entertaining. It was evident that he took pleasure in exerting his dominance over you. As he continued to speak, his condescending tone only further emphasized his sadistic nature. "Why don't we go through it?"

After a couple of dumbfounded blinks, wondering if what just transpired actually took place, you nodded and stepped towards the desk.

Your professor moved away for a second before appearing behind you and holding out a pencil. Not knowing what was going on, you took the utensil from his grasp, feeling the rough skin of his fingers—the same ones that were just in your mouth. You looked down at the test.

"First question..." You trailed off as his large hand came to rest on your ass. You froze for a second at the touch, but then he pulled away and landed a harsh smack against you.

You yelped and looked up at him with wide eyes.

The condescending gaze was back. "Did I tell you to stop?"

Your heart raced as confusion and arousal washed over you. The shock of his actions made it difficult to comprehend what was happening, but the slight stinging sensation on your ass had you bowing your head back to the paper.

"No," you said.

"No, what?"

"No, Sir." You corrected, and he hummed softly, his hand coming back to massage under your skirt.

You continued reading the question, trying not to falter at the reminder of his touch. But when you began your answer, his hand drew back and landed another harsh spank.

You gripped the desk in front of you.

"Wrong." Was all he said.

You whimpered but tried again.

Another slap.

"Sir..." You whined.

"Keep going."

You wiggled under his touch, your legs pushing together for a fraction of friction where you really needed it. Taking your time, you slowly worked through the answer, voice trembling at each graze of his rough fingers toying with the edge of your panties. When you finished, his hand dipped under the fabric and rubbed your clit, causing you to buckle under him.

His other arm came around to hold you up, pressing your body back into his sturdy chest as he chuckled darkly.

"Good girl," he mumbled. "Next."

"Sir, please..." You didn't know what you were asking for, but the lewd sound of his fingers against your soaked lips and the pleasure that came from them had your mind fuzzy.

"Are you already fucked dumb?" He asked rhetorically. "Haven't even taken out my dick yet."

At that, you whined and pushed yourself back against him, feeling his hard cock through his dress pants. He let out a hiss at the sensation, letting go of you in favour of undoing his buckle. As your arms fell on the desk in front of you to hold up your body, you couldn't help but anticipate the impending release of pleasure that awaited you. The air in the room grew thick with desire as he finally freed himself from his pants, and you could feel your own arousal burning with each passing second.

Geto didn't warn you when he entered. The sudden intrusion of his hard length inside you took your breath away, sending waves of ecstasy coursing through your body. The intensity of the moment overwhelmed you, heightening the pleasure and leaving you craving more.

He wasn't gentle with you, treating you like a vessel for his own pleasure, but your wanton moans told him you liked it just as much as him.

"Do the little boys in the class fuck you like this?" He grunted, and you shook your head defiantly.

You bit your lip, trying to regain some confidence as you said, "T-they do it better."

"Oh?" He hummed and pulled out.

Your professor slipped out of you, grabbed your hips, and flipped you over. He pushed you back onto the desk, laid you down atop all the messy paperwork—including your forgotten test—and pushed your legs into your chest before you thrust inside again.

You let out a moan at the newfound spot he could reach, and Geto slapped a hand over your mouth.

"You want everyone to know this 35-year-old virgin is fucking you?" He mocked your inability to speak.

Every glide and thrust of his hips against yours sent shockwaves of pleasure throughout your entire being. The rhythm between you two was intoxicating—a perfect dance of lust and appetite. With each movement, you found yourself surrendering completely to the overwhelming pleasure, losing yourself in the euphoria of the moment.

"God, how are you so fucking tight?" He groaned, his voice filled with a mix of desire and disbelief. The intensity of the sensations overwhelmed you, making it hard to form coherent words. You could only moan in response, your body responding to his every touch and movement. Then he brought his thumb roughly against your clit, sending a jolt of electricity through your body. The pleasure intensified, causing your breath to hitch and your heart to race even faster. Every nerve ending in your body felt alive, consumed by the sting of ecstasy that seemed to have no end in sight.

"You like being used like this?" He asked. "Seems to be the only thing you're good at."

As the words left his lips, a mix of desire and humiliation washed over you. The intensity of the moment heightened, and your mind raced with conflicting emotions, torn between the raw pleasure coursing through your veins and the sting of his degrading words. It was a twisted dance of dominance and submission, leaving you yearning for more while questioning your own desires.

But as your orgasm washed over you, your mind was filled with nothing but pleasure, and your professor's cock was still buried deep inside you, pulsating with each wave of pleasure that rippled through your body. The illicit nature of the encounter only fueled your desire further as you surrendered completely to the intoxicating sensations for just a moment. As you lay there, spent and breathless, a newfound sense of liberation washed over you, leaving you craving more of the man in front of you.

He pulled out of you.

Your eyes widened with confusion and disappointment as you watched him retreat, leaving you feeling empty and unsatisfied. The sudden absence of his presence left a void within you, aching for his touch once again. So when he sat in his chair and motioned you back to him with a single curl of his finger, you willed your aching legs to carry you into his lap.

As you settled atop him, his arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer. The intensity of his gaze and the heat radiating from his body reignited the desire that had momentarily been extinguished. You lined yourself up with his cock and slowly ground yourself onto it.

His hands stilled against you when you tried to bounce, however, and kept you trapped against him as he looked down at you.

"You do this to all your professors?" He asked, and you shook your head violently.

"Only you, sir." Your once-confident voice was now soft and laced with lust, and you let out a soft moan as you felt his dick twitch within you at the mention of his name. "You like when I call you 'Sir'?

His glare darkened, hips thrusting up harshly to elicit a yelp from you.

"You like when I make you cum on my cock?" He retaliated, and you bit your tongue. "Make me cum, and I'll give you a passing grade."

At the proposition, a mix of excitement and hesitation washed over you. The power dynamic between you and your professor was intoxicating, but the thought of trading sexual favours for academic success was never something you thought you'd do. However, the allure of achieving a passing grade in his class was hard to resist, and the thought of making this man you despise come undone was too good to pass up.

You leaned in, nipped his ear, and, in your most sultry voice, said, "Anything you want, sir.”

As those words left your lips, a rush of adrenaline coursed through your veins. The line between right and wrong blurred in that moment, and when you lifted your hips, only to fall straight down on his aching cock, you felt nothing but pride.

The intensity of the moment consumed you as you revelled in the power you took back. As the pleasure intensified, a sense of satisfaction washed over you, fueling your desire to get what you want. You bounced on top of him, riding the wave of control and dominance. Every movement was deliberate, and every moan he uttered was a testament to your newfound liberation. With each thrust, you could feel the balance of power shifting in your favour, solidifying your position as the one in charge. The exhilaration of getting what you desired fueled your confidence, leaving you hungry for more.

When his grip on your sides tightened and his eyes screwed shut in pleasure, you revelled in the satisfaction of knowing that you had brought him to this point. As Geto reached the peak of ecstasy, a sense of fulfillment washed over you, knowing you had finally made this man crumble.

You jumped off his lap, making his cum squirt into the air, only to fall and soil his pants. The pathetic stature of the man in front of you, coming down from his high, made you grin, eyes flashing to his glaring ones.

Wordlessly, you grabbed your crumpled test and pushed it in front of him, smirking down at the soiled man.

#kleftiko’s kinktober #jjk x reader #jjk smut #geto x reader #geto smut #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru smut #suguru geto x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #suguru geto smut #getou suguru x reader

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