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strang3lov3 · 2 months

Text

Play Stupid Games

Summary - Who woulda thought you could make Joel come by playing with his nipples? NOT ME!! (3.6k words)

Tags - implied age gap as Joel calls reader kiddo, Joel Miller Nipple Worship, almost sub!joel, for like 8 seconds max, sub to softdom!joel, unprotected Piv, nipple orgasm, premature ejaculation, come eating, thigh riding, fingering, Joel talks you through it. A/N - this ended up being something between a drabble and a fic. I don’t know what this is. God spoke to me and I listened.

Thank you thank you thank you @noxturnalpascal for cleaning this mess up, thank you @beefrobeefcal @tightjeansjavi and @joelsgreys for the encouragement I needed to finish this!

Joel’s sheets are scratchy yet soft, his walls are illuminated by the flickering light of his burning candles. Joel’s naked under his blankets, your naked body tangled up with his. Your head rests on his chest and you draw lazy patterns with your fingers on his soft, pillowy tummy as Joel reads Stephen King’s The Shining to you, turning the pages when he asks you to. This is your evening routine with him, and you’ll never tire of it. Sex first, then a shared shower, where Joel washes your hair and you wash his. He dries you off, then you go back to bed to snuggle and read a book together. You giggle at the way he always wears his glasses too far down his nose, and he lightly drags his nails along your scalp. His clean and masculine scent takes over your senses and that low, gravelly tone of his voice as he reads aloud to you usually puts you to sleep in no more than twenty minutes.

“Turn the page for me, hon,” Joel asks.

You’re not so tired tonight. You’re watching Joel’s chest rise and fall, lost in your own world and not really paying attention to his reading. Instead, you’re watching his skin erupt in goosebumps as you trace his chest, toying with his sparse chest hair, lightly teasing his nipples, they’re a dark sort of mauve-brown color. Joel’s breath hitches as they pebble beneath your touch.

He bounces his book lightly on the crown of your head. “You with me?”

“Mhm,” you hum, “Of course.”

“Mm,” Joel mumbles, not convinced. And he’s right to not believe you. You’re grinding against his thigh subtly, but not subtle enough for Joel to not notice. He smirks as you reach between his thighs, first cupping his balls and then playing with his cock, feeling him begin to thicken in your palm. “Ohh,” Joel grins, “That’s why you’re not listening.”

“I’m listening,” you reply, stroking his cock. It’s always such a satisfying feeling, running your thumb along the thickness of his head, feeling him twitch and grow harder.

“Are ya? What’s happening right now?”

“Wendy…”

“Wrong,” he interrupts, “Try again.”

“Jack–”

“Danny,” Joel corrects, “What’s Danny doin’?” You don’t know the answer to that question, of course you don’t. Because you’re too distracted by what’s happening in your hand. “Exactly,” Joel says. He sets his book down on his stomach, the pages split to mark his place. He reaches under the covers and wraps his hand around your wrist, halting your movements. “You wore me out tonight, kiddo. I don’t have it in me to go again.”

It’s true, you did wear Joel out. It had been a few days since you’d last had him, and you were missing him dearly. Joel was gone all day, and you’d watched all three Indiana Jones movies, which didn’t help your case in the least. Fuck it, you might even be ovulating. You’re not exactly keeping track. Whoops.

You practically tackled him when he walked through the door. Dinner was made and the table set, but it remained untouched as you let Joel know just how much you missed him. Scrambling to unbuckle his belt, you walked him backwards until the backs of his legs hit the couch and he sat down. You wasted no time shimmying off your pants and pulling his own halfway down his thighs. He guided you to straddle his lap, his already rock-hard cock held loosely between his fingers.

Usually he’ll tease you a bit, make you beg and ache and cry for it as he drags his tip through your folds, toy with your clit for a moment before notching himself at your entrance. Today, upon realizing the severity of your need for him, he pulled your hips down on his cock, burying himself in you entirely. He let you adjust to him, feel the stretch and the ache of him inside you. No fingers to warm you up, no tongue, he simply gave all of himself to you.

Once adjusted, he began to roll his hips, grunting in your ear as you moaned sweetly in his own. That patch of hair at the base of his cock rubbing against your clit, how his thick cock hit all of your sweetest spots with each of his deep, sloppy, and quick thrusts. He was relentless, just how you needed him. As he fucked you, he slid his hands up the softness of your tummy and your rib cage, then cupped your breasts, flicking and twisting your nipples with his fingertips.

Per your wishes, Joel had brought you to the edge and pushed you over it multiple times by the time it was all said and done. You came on his cock once and begged him to let you come once more, and then one more time after that before he finally let himself go. By the time you’d finished, the sun had gone down and dinner had gottencold. It could’ve been hours, and Joel was spent. He could hardly keep his eyes open in the shower, swaying back and forth as he flirted with the idea of falling asleep under the warm water running down his shoulders.

“I’ll do all the work, Joel,” you offer as you squeeze his cock. “I just need you for a second.”

“Charming. You lied to me twice just now,” Joel smirks, turning his head to look down at where your head rests on his shoulder. “Didn’t you?”

“No, of course not.”

“Oh, sure. You just need me for a second, huh? Can I time it?” You bite your cheek to hide your sheepish smile. You see his point, but you weren’t lying, just slightly misrepresenting the truth. “Yeah, and you know what else is a load of bullshit? I’ll do all the work, Joel,” he mocks, putting on his best girl voice and batting his eyelashes.

You’re definitely not lying about that, though. “It’s true,” you argue, “I’ll–”

“Yeah, right. You ain’t done a lick of hard work in your life. You got me in the palm of your hand and you don’t gotta lift a damn finger to get what you want. Do you?”

You’re not answering that. Instead, holding up your pinkie finger, you swear to Joel, “I promise, I’ll do it all.”

Joel eyes you suspiciously before holding up his pinkie finger as well. You link fingers, kiss your thumb as he kisses his own, then smush them together. “S’a deal now, my darlin’.”

Joel first takes off his glasses, then dog-ears the page of his book to mark his place in the story before he sets both down on his nightstand. He raises his hands in the air as if he’s surrendering to you. You pull down the blankets and straddle him, your already wet pussy grinding against his now fully-hardened cock. You smile mischievously, biting your bottom lip as you pin his wrists to the bed on either side of his head. “Goddamn,” he drawls, “Am I nothin’ but a piece of meat to ya?”

“Mhm,” you reply, kissing his cheek and then his lips.

Joel smiles against your lips, “Alright, sweet girl. Show me what you got,” he mumbles. You pull back and Joel waits patiently, his wrists still pinned under your palm as you decide what you’re gonna do to him. You start first by grinding yourself against his member, garnering an amused smile from him as his tip catches against your clit and you moan. “Very nice,” he praises, “Gimme some more.”

Still grinding on his cock, you kiss his lips again, then down his jaw, down his neck, biting and sucking as you do so. “No marks,” he warns, squeezing your ass.

“I know, Joel,” you whisper, continuing your trail of kisses down his chest, down his tummy and back up again. You line yourself up with his cock and sink down on him, experimentally licking a nipple at the same time. Joel shivers. You do it again, this time gently teasing his other nipple with your fingers.

“What are you doin’, kiddo,” Joel murmurs quietly.

“Nothing, Joel.”

“I think you’re lyin’ again. Think you’re causin’ trouble.”

“I’m taking care of you.”

“I don’t, fuck, I don’t know–” you hum against him, sending vibrations through his skin. You’re grinding on him as you do so, rubbing your clit against that patch of hair at the base of his cock, taking in all of him - the feeling of him inside you, how you’re pulsing around him. His smell, his warm and thick body underneath yours. He’s breathing heavily, little whimpers escaping his mouth as he squeezes your ass and your sides, his fingertips digging into your skin so hard it hurts. He seems almost desperate.

“Don’t know what, Joel?”

“I don’t - fuck, ohh god, please, please–” Holy fuck, he’s begging, and you didn’t even know he could do that. You’re not sure what he’s begging for - more, less, go, stop. “Why’re you teasin’ me like this, sweetheart, why’re–”

“I’m not doing anything, Joel,” you smile against his skin. You’re trying it all out now, with one of his nipples you’re using your fingers to twist and tease him, feeling him jolt and tremble with your touch. With your mouth, you’re using your tongue - tracing the outline of his areola, swirling your tongue in a spiral to reach his sensitive bud. And then you switch, using your tongue on the nipple previously occupied by your teasing fingertips.

“Bullshit. You’re—fuuuuuck,” Joel lets out a long groan, his cock twitching inside of you as he squirms underneath you. “I can feel you smirkin’.You’re testin’ my patience. You need, I need, Christ–you’re startin’ something you’re not gonna like finishing.”

He’s warning you that this might be a mistake, but this only fuels your fire. It’s always you who’s squirming and crying and whimpering, begging for god knows what as Joel grins above you, torturing your clit and promising you that it’ll all be okay, that you’re not gonna break.

You’ve got him reduced to a mess, he’s moaning and whimpering, breathing heavily with his eyes squeezed shut, his brows knit together. You can feel in his touch that he’s conflicted, squeezing you tighter yet itching to push you away. His skin is tingling, his balls tightening as you clench around him, still grinding yourself ever so slightly on his pelvis. You’re making a sloppy mess of his chest with your mouth, all spit covered as you circle his nipples with the tip of your tongue, rolling the bud gently and carefully between your teeth. It’s torturously pleasurable when you begin to suck and nip at his nipples and Joel thinks he’s gonna–

“Fuck, Christ, oh my god, oh my god, mmm-ohhhh.”

He’s spilling into you, surprising both you and himself. He comes loudly and desperately, all needy whimpers and cries as he pulses inside you, painting your insides with his warm, sticky spend. Grabbing you and holding you tight, his grip easing as his breaths begin to even and he eventually goes still. You rest on his chest, feeling him leak out of you. When you finally sit up to admire your work, Joel’s got his eyes closed, his cheeks are rosy. A few tears running down his face and when you wipe them away, he opens his eyes.

“You look proud of yourself,” he tells you. His tone is pointed yet quiet, like he’s bashful. “Learned a new trick, huh.”

“I did,” you smile. He’s gone soft inside of you and you get up off of him, but Joel pulls you back down. “Nuh-uh. Where do you think you’re going?”

“Just to the–”

“Sit back down. I ain’t finished with you,” Here it comes. You anticipated Joel getting revenge in some way or another, but you’re not sure how he plans to. Maybe he’ll lay you on your back, lick you until you cry the way you did to him. He might bring you to the edge over and over and over again, yet never push you past it. Or he’ll make you come until your legs twitch and shake uncontrollably, and you’re a sweaty, sobbing mess of overstimulation. He’s done it all before and you know he’s not opposed to doing it again. “You’re gonna hold up your end of the bargain. Do some hard work for once in your life.”

You begin to protest, “I already did.”

“That don’t count. You cheated and found a loophole. You wanted me, so you’re gonna have me,” You’re not sure what he means or what he wants from you. You thought you did already have him. “Get on your knees, kiddo,” Joel says, slapping his bare thigh. When you pause, Joel nudges you and guides you to straddle his thigh. “Like this,” he says.

“What am I supposed to do?”

“I’m sure you’ll figure that out,” Joel drawls, “I gave you a hint already.”

He’s placed you on his thigh. He says you wanted him, so you’re gonna have him. But you’ve made him come already, so that means–

“I can’t do that.”

“You started this, you’re comin’ one way or another,” he says. “You’re not getting up until you do it. You’d best get to it.”

His tone is serious, but you’re sure this has to be some sort of game. He watches you, how you furrow your brows in confusion. Joel sits up and adjusts a few pillows behind himself, spreads his legs further apart and holds your ass cheeks in his big, strong hands. “Rock your hips f’me.”

Slowly, you rock your hips on his thigh. You can’t feel much except for the mess you’re making on his leg, your arousal and his spend. It’s all awkward - the clunky and graceless rolling of your hips, the quietness in the room as Joel watches you intently. You shift your thighs, holding on to one of Joel’s hips and one of his shoulders as you rock your hips, trying to feel anything at all. You do - just for a second, maybe. “Keep goin’,” he tells you while drawing lazy patterns on your thigh, but you’re not sure that you can keep going. The expectant look on Joel’s face has you feeling uncomfortable. Not the bad kind of we need to stop this now uncomfortable, but just sort of puzzled. Joel could have tortured you with his teasing and he probably would have gotten a better result. He seems to know this, so he begins to guide your hips again. You’re not sure how he does it, but he finds the perfect angle and he knows this when you moan for him, squeezing his shoulders tight. “Like that,” he instructs.

You do your best to mimic the action, but it’s just not happening. He must’ve been flexing his thigh, or the way he moved your hips is a way that you can’t replicate without help for some reason. Frustrated, you slump down onto his chest. “I can’t do it.”

“You’re gonna have to,” Joel coos.

You shake your head, “No, no. I want–just fuck me. I want you inside me, I can’t come without you inside me.”

“Yeah, I know you want me inside ya. Can’t do nothin’ about that on account of what you did to me, now can I?”

You whine and groan in irritation. “Then I need you to do the w–” you press your lips in a thin line. Oops.

“Work,” Joel adds for you, finishing your sentence. “S’that what I’m hearin’? You need me to do the work?” You nod your head, it’s worth a shot. Maybe. “Not gonna happen, hon. We shook on it.” You pout, whining and groaning again. Joel strokes the skin of your back, “Oh, I know, I know,” he coos, feigning sympathy. “Let this be a lesson to ya then, kiddo. You play stupid games, you win stupid prizes.”

“Joel,” you protest.

“Joel,” he mocks. “Come on, get up. Get to work.” Joel pushes you back, forcing you to sit back up on his thigh. Generously, he helps you find that movement once more. Where your hips tilt at just the right angle and you can feel the pressure of his thick thigh against your clit. “Right there,” you gasp, holding his hand on your hip. “Nuh-uh,” Joel shakes his head and pulls his arms back, crossing them on his tummy.

It’s okay. You’re gonna figure this out. You brace yourself on Joel’s shoulders as you search for that sweet spot on your own. Within a couple of minutes, you think you find it. You’re alternating between feeling good, better, worse, then to worse, good, and better. At moments it’s great, and then it just…disappears. And at this point, you’re exhausted. It’s been god knows how long since you even found yourself on Joel’s lap in the first place. You groan, resigning yourself to defeat. You’re about to get off of Joel’s thigh when he grabs your bicep. “Aw, come on kiddo. You givin’ up that easy?”

“Yeah,” you tell him, your tone saying all that you’re feeling. Dejection, frustration, disappointment.

Joel shakes his head, “M’not lettin’ ya.”

“Joel–”

“Deep breath in and out for me,” he instructs, and you roll your eyes. He repeats himself, “Deep breath. In. And. Out. Do it now.” And so, not wanting to make this any worse for yourself and just wanting to get it over and done with, you close your eyes. You breathe in deeply, letting your tummy expand with his instruction, then exhale your breath fully. “You need to settle down,” he says as you continue your breaths. “S’it. Nice an’ slow.”

“I’m sorry,” you mumble, “It’s just hard.”

“Know it’s hard. What’d we talk about though, hm? Hard work, right?” you nod your head, “Yeah,” Joel says, “I know. You’re gonna work for it, sweet girl. I’ve been spoilin’ ya.” A few more deep breaths, and Joel speaks again, “M’not gonna do it for you, but I’ll walk you through it if you’d like.”

“Yes,” you beg, your eyes flying open. “Please. Help me.”

“Least you’ve still got your manners,” Joel smiles. He reaches for your knees then, spreading them wide. “Tilt your hips forward, sweetheart, and rock ‘em on me,” he tells you. “What feels good? Back and forth, left and right?”

“Back and forth.”

“Then do it.”

And so you do it, just like you’ve been doing this whole goddamn time. Joel watches in your face that you’re not quite there yet, but he encourages you anyway. “That’s it, you’re gettin’ it. Tilt down a bit.”

You’re rocking your hips on his thigh, grinding against him, and with his advice it finally, finally feels good. “Fuck,” you moan.

“Again,” he instructs, “Keep goin’.”

You grind on him, this time with more intent. Faster and harder, having found that sweet feeling that’s beginning to build in the pit of your stomach, you savor it.

“Good girl,” Joel praises. And then as if to reward you for your hard work, Joel reaches between your thighs and finds your clit with his middle and ring fingers, giving you something extra to enjoy. He’s circling your clit as you move your hips, and when that feeling in your stomach begins to build, you ride him more intensely, chasing after that high you so desperately need, that you’ve worked so hard for.

“Need it–need you, Joel, don’t stop, don’t–”

“I’m not goin’ anywhere. Take your time, kiddo, I’m right here.”

“You’re here,” you nod, your brows furrowed together and you’re almost unable to speak, too focused on the prospect of release.

Your velvety folds soaked in Joel’s come and your own arousal. “I’m– fuck, Joel, I’m close,” you moan.

“I know you are, keep goin’,” Joel coos, “You’re right there, just let it happen. Gimme a good one, sweetheart,” You feel your orgasm building to a new edge when you hear him say, “Come for me.”

All it takes is that one command, laced with Joel’s encouragement, and you’re sent tumbling over the edge. Your long-awaited orgasm begins at your core and travels through you, washing over you with pulsing waves of pleasure. “Joel,” you moan breathless and needy, writhing on top of him. You feel it everywhere, in your spine and down your thighs. Your clit twitching, your walls pulsing around nothing as you ride him.

“That’s it, kiddo, there it is. Good girl,” Joel coos. “Did so good.”

With a soft moan, you fall limp next to Joel, steadying your breath.

A moment passes. “Finish the job,” he whispers.

“What are you talking about?”

“You made your mess on me, so you’re gonna clean it up. Part of the deal, sweetheart,” Joel gestures to your combined arousal on his thigh, then swipes his middle two fingers through the mess and pushes it between your lips, “You know what to do. Lick it up,” he instructs.

It’s not lost on him, the hypocrisy of having you clean up a mess that he had you make. But like he asked, you do it. You’ll do it every time he asks. He holds your hair back as you lick the mess from his thigh, savoring that slightly salty, masculine flavor he knows you love. “Such a good girl. You ready to go to sleep?”

“No,” you yawn, and Joel puts on his glasses again, opens the book back up and reads you the story. You’re sleeping on his chest in minutes.

If you enjoyed, please please please reblog, leave me a comment, or send me an ask. Your words go a long way and keep me motivated to write 🩷

Forgot to add cat pics!!! I add these at the end of my fics now

#strang3lov3 #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller #joel miller x you #pedro pascal #the last of us #the last of us hbo #pedro pascal joel miller #pedro pascal the last of us #joel miller x reader smut

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loveyouprongs · 4 months

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are you awake?

prompt: "are you awake yet?" "no." "oh, okay sorry." remus lupin x reader

upcoming content: fluff! pls lmk if u think i missed anything. 1.8k words

authors note: despite any photos used in the header, it’s important that people of all races can identify with my work so please let me know if any of the descriptive language i use is exclusionary, i’m trying my best!

masterlist

you had no idea what time it was, your phone abandoned on the night stand atop remus' book. he had come over in a huff, one hand holding his cellphone, keys, and book all at once, the other holding a warm cup of hot chocolate he had picked up along the way.

"rem, is that you?" you called, fumbling with wrapping a towel around your just washed hair while keeping the other towel tucked under your arms. you weren't expecting to see him today at all, he had, in his own words, a fucking shitload of reading to catch up on and planned on spending the entire weekend holed up in his room.

you understood, having just finished your own finals, so you planned on spending the evening watching movies and finally removing the old nail polish that decorated your toes and repainting them. an easy, uneventful night.

“yeah, it’s me dove,” remus said, bending down to untie his laces, “sorry for just barging in on you like thi- did you just take a shower?”

he snapped his head up and drank you in, your body still damp from the hot water and the ends of the towel wrapped around your chest fell apart against your thigh revealing more of your smooth skin. your face was free of makeup or the tendrils of hair that constantly fell between your eyes that remus always brushed away.

“y’don’t have to do that every time, remus,” you said on your fourth date when his fingertips danced against your forehead once more that evening.

“you have to be able to see, darling, i don’t mind,” he replied as if this was something he was doing as a favor to you and not because he was so desperate to touch you in any way.

you looked beautiful, he thought.

“thank you, baby,” you let out, giggling at the sigh of your boyfriend still bent half over himself, looking up at you as if you would disappear if he wasn’t.

“did i say that out loud?”

“you did.”

“well, it’s true,” he had since walked over to you, setting his phone, keys, book and cup on the table and grasped at your shoulders, stamping a kiss to your forehead. in this moment, he felt all his tension wash away and reveled in the feeling of your warm skin under his and the vanilla scent of your shampoo wafting around him. he didn’t even remember why he was in such an annoyed mood earlier until you asked him how come he came over.

“ugh, i have to move out!” he exclaimed. this is something remus said maybe four times a week, seven if it was really bad. when james left his dishes piled up in the sink for too long, “i have to move out!” remus would say while ranting to you over breakfast the next day. when they went on a trip for a few days and sirius forgot to pack any underwear so he took it upon himself to borrow remus’, you woke up to a text from your boyfriend that simply read “i have to move out.” sent at 2:18 a.m. then “good morning” at 2:19 a.m. and “you better not be awake right now, dovey” at 2:20 a.m.

“what happened this time?”

“was trying to study ‘til those idiots had the bright idea of rolling bottles down the stairs, i mean who even thinks of that?”

you had to bite your lip to keep in your laughter. you had seen that trend all down your social media so you knew exactly where they got the idea from. but your sweet remus who had no profiles whatsoever, -unless you count the facebook page he made when james told him he had to have one at least-

“what do you mean it doesn’t count? you can share photos and talk to people.”

“it’s facebook! only mums use it. i’m making you a BeReal.”

“you’re making me be real?”

“oh, nevermind.”

had no idea and believed this was just another stupid activity his roommates shared brain cell came up with.

“i don’t know, remmy, people are weird,”

“right? anyway, i sat through listening to ‘clunk, clunk, clunk, smash! again, again, again!’ for about fifteen minutes before i had to get out of there so i thought to come here.”

a warmth started growing within your chest and spreading throughout your entire body. he thought to come here, to your place. your lanky, fluffy haired, nerdy boyfriend who you loved so so much thought to come to you. the smile that had spread across your face was so wide you knew remus knew exactly how you were feeling.

“don’t go all moony eyed on me now, sweetness,” he began, “i’m here because i still have a lot of work to do.”

“of course”

“with no distractions, at least for the next few hours,” he was looking down at you with a familiar look in his eye and you couldn’t even bother to feign cluelessness. the image of remus bent over a book, concentrated look on his face and glasses slowly slipping down his nose was irresistible to you and when you two studied together, it caused a lot of assignments to go untouched.

“alright, i’ll leave you be. but i expect some form of compensation for my good behavior.”

“hence the hot chocolate, for you dove,” he handed you the tall paper cup he had brought in with him and you smiled as it was still warm enough to drink.

“oh wow, my boyfriend and a hot chocolate? it’s like my birthday!” you laughed as remus rolled his eyes and started setting himself up at your kitchen table.

“you can’t say that whenever i get you something, you need to have higher expectations for your birthday silly girl, or i really will just get you a drink and that’ll be it.” he said and the last thing he heard was you laughing down the hallway.

hours had passed and your hair was dry, toe nails now a light peachy color, and one and a half movies had been watched. you mainly kept to your room, only coming out to get a drink and set some biscuits out for remus who hadn’t even looked up. you were sure a bomb could off in the building across the street and he wouldn’t notice. he was so concentrated that all you wanted to do was press your fingers to his temples and relieve his pretty face of the wrinkles, surely his eyes were sore as well, but you knew better than to bother him.

it wasn’t until it was dark out that remus had finally slumped against your bedroom door and trudged like a zombie to your bed, face planting right into your lap. his calves were hanging over the edge so you grabbed his face and shuffled yourselves closer to the headboard. remus was laughing, the feel of his lips tickling your stomach, and with that information he only began to blow raspberries on your belly button.

“remus stop i’m serious!” you let out and lifted his head up, your hands pushing his cheeks up causing his lips to reach up into a smile. he looked so soft, and happy, but obviously tired.

“‘m finished with all m’reading, dove,” his speech was slurred, surely from exhaustion.

“i’m very proud of you baby, you’re so hard working.”

he wrapped the comforter around both of you, and flipped onto his side, pressing his back to your front. he must have been really out of it because he never let you be the big spoon.

“but don’t you like being held?”

“i like holding you. besides it just makes more sense that way, i’m much taller.”

“there’s no sense to cuddling!”

“there’s sense to everything!”

“i am hard working! and they don’t care, all they care about is smashing things and making lots of noise. i have to move out.” he grumbled.

you ran your fingers through his hair, letting him mumble on, knowing he’ll soon fall asleep.

“well, you’re always welcome here, my love.”

he sighed and pressed a kiss to your wrist, “i know,” he spoke softly, the two words so full of content he could hardly stand it. he thought every day how lucky he was to have you in his life. a love full of soft kisses and hot chocolates and intertwining under moonlight. “i love you so much.”

“i love you too, now get some sleep.”

the night had come and gone, remus sleeping away in your arms and the sun was shining through your curtains. you slowly lifted your arm off him and felt around for your phone, careful not to disturb him. the screen flashed 10:15 a.m., meaning remus had been sleeping for close to twelve hours now.

it made sense due to how tired he was yesterday, but you had done nothing but relax, so your body was ready to get up and start the day. you answered a few messages telling marlene you’d had to get back to her about if you and remus could make it to brunch in a few hours and sending a rolling eyes emoji to james who sent you a number of videos of bottles rolling down the stairs.

remus shifted, unconsciously flexing his back, and you froze. it wasn’t until he began cracking his knuckles individually that you knew he was awake, you still asked though.

“are you awake yet.”

“no.”

“oh, okay, sorry.”

“mmm.”

two minutes passed, “are you awake now.”

“are my eyes open?”

“no, but you are speaking to me, and this isn’t what you usually say when you sleep talk.”

“i don’t sleep talk!” he let out, craning his neck to look at you perplexedly.

“got you to open your eyes, didn’t i?” you said with a wry smile. his look of confusion morphed into annoyance that you both knew was fake and he fully turned so you were both facing each other now.

“i haven’t slept that good in a long time,” he said lowly, his voice still rough from sleep.

“finals are over now, rem, you can sleep for as long as you want.”

he smiled and tangled your fingers together, opening his mouth to say something back when his stomach rumbled loudly.

“that wasn’t very sexy, was it?”

you giggled and shook your head, finally throwing the covers off yourself.

“nope, but that’s okay, marlene wants us to meet her for brunch in thirty minutes, so we better get a move on, sleepy head.”

remus groaned and reached for his designated dresser from the bed and pulled out whatever shirt and bottoms were on the top of the piles. the two of you got ready in comfortable silence and while you were sitting on the floor, pulling up the zipper on your boots, remus realized that he really could see himself moving in here. always doing his course work at your kitchen table, picking up a hot drink for you at the coffee shop two streets away, not because it was on his way to you, but because it was on his way home.

“ready, baby?” you asked, now standing at full height, holding your hand out to him.

i’m ready to wake up here every morning. “ready,” he said, wrapping his hand around yours.

#remus lupin #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin fic #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x fem!reader #mauraders #mauraders fandom #remus lupin fanfiction #maurauders era #marauders fanfiction #remus lupin fancast #remus lupin blurb #remus lupin drabble #remus fluff #remus imagine #remus x reader #remus x fem!reader

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yeosgoa · 2 months

Text

10:11 • ғᴇ̀ᴄᴏɴᴅᴇʀ (NSFW)

♡ assistant!Hongjoong x witch!afab!reader

♡ academia, witch, smut

♡ WC • 3845

♡ Warnings!! (tags) • Sex potion, witchcraft, swearing, kissing, praise, spit/drool, dacryphilia, unprotected sex, edging, overstimulation, handjob, titjob, blowjob, manhandling, fingering, creampie, breeding, lactation, multiple positions, anal, knotting, semi-public sex, mutation, vampirism, reader wears long nails, reader has fangs, reader is implied to be shorter than Hongjoong. (pls lmk if I missed anything.)

♡ A/N: this isn't proofread, will do sometime in the future. féconder means fertilizer/pollinate in French if I'm not mistaken. Any French speakers feel free to correct me.

♡ ᴛᴀɢʟɪsᴛ

ೋ❀❀ೋ═══ ❀ ═══ೋ❀❀ೋೋ❀❀ೋ═══ ❀

The rain pattered on the window rather heavily. You and your assistant, Hongjoong were in your school’s greenhouse, while you finished up on your latest potions and he read to you.

“It is the eve of St. George’s Day. Do you not know that tonight, when the clock strikes midnight, all the evil things in the world will have full sway? Do you know where you are going, and what you are going to?” Hongjoong recited, pacing slowly back and forth behind you. The novel ‘Dracula’ is in his right hand while his left hand rests behind his back. His glasses perched right on his sharp pointed nose as he tilted his head to the side continuing. “She was in such evident distress that I tried to comfort her, but without effect. Finally, she went down on her knees and implored me not to go; at least to wait a day or two before starting. It was all very ridiculous but I did not feel comfortable. However, there was business to be done, and I could allow nothing to interfere with it. I th-”

“Yes come here, business,” You interrupted right then, beckoning him over. Hongjoong placed a ribbon in between the pages before closing the ages-old novel. He walked over to you until you were side by side, and he looked down at you.

“Yes, darling?” He raised a brow a bit, watching as you poured a yellowish iridescent liquid into a rather small goblet. “What's this?”

You handed him the goblet, looking up into his eyes, “it’s supposed to suppress arousal.” You inform, turning back to the pot where you grabbed a bottle to store the rest in.

“It’s supposed to make me not horny?” He clarifies, looking intently at the potion. You nod in response, “Exactly.”

“How long is it supposed to take effect?” Hongjoong takes a smell of it, it smells of Gingko Biloba, Red Ginseng, and Yohimbe. There’s also a dollop of a poppy scent in there too. “I’m not sure, we'll just have to see.” You reply, watching the rain pour outside.

Hongjoong takes a swig, swallowing the potion that felt rather thick in his throat. The taste itself was bitter but sweet. He could get past it.

“It tastes like…like-” “Anti-horniness?” You turn your head a bit to notice a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Very much.” He answers, smacking his teeth. “What purpose was this for by the way?”

You paused, thinking about it. Truth be told you actually weren’t sure why, but you could list reasons as to why. “Hmm…” You trailed off. “Maybe for uh… people who struggle to keep it in their pants? I don’t know. People who struggle with sex addiction?” Hongjoong nodded slowly, “I guess that could make sense.”

There was a comfortable silence passing for a few minutes before Hongjoong felt his slacks tightening. Was this supposed to happen? He believed not, the potion is an arousal suppressant. He opted to keep it to himself, figuring it would go away quickly and that this was just a part of the process.

However, more minutes passed, and Hongjoong’s breath grew heavy as his slacks suddenly felt twice as small. He let go of his novel and looked down at the floor. “...Y/n?”

“Yeah?” You kept your eyes on your own spell book, skimming through pages without actually reading them. Your back was faced towards him, bent over the counter. His eyes fell on your ass which your long, tight godet skirt shaped perfectly. His breath hitched, his skin growing hot.

“I… I don’t think this is a suppressant, Y/n.” He states. His cock is visibly hard, fighting against his slacks.

“What do you mean, Joong? I-” You turn around to see the view. His cheeks flushed red, visibly sweaty under the layers he wore. His hands gripped the counter, and he gulped. “R-Read that spell again.” He stutters.

You grab the spellbook, turning back to the page where you followed the steps to create the suppressant. Looking at the header you creased your brows. “Joong, it says aféconder, that’s a suppressant.” You say, feeling bubbling in your stomach. Hongjoong felt his stomach tighten himself, he shook his head. “No… it can’t. Let me see the book.”

He leaned over and grabbed the book, skimming over the page with a deep sigh. “... oh Y/n…” he closes his eyes, placing the book back down. “Y/n, this is féconder. The ‘a’ was a stain.” Hongjoong pinches the bridge of his nose, turning away from you.

You felt your mind slap you right across the face, and you rested your head in your hands, propped on your elbows. Your hands ran across your face, and through your hair, as you let out a soft but low groan. “Sorry, Joong,” you whisper, and you feel his hand rake up your back. “There has to be a way to reverse it, right?” he mutters, his voice huskier than usual.

“There’s no spells in this book that could reverse it, I believe.” You reply, flipping through the spellbook. “But… but we could try something else…?” You suggest, turning your head to look at him.

“Like…?” He trailed off, brows creased. You turn to fully face him, and hesitantly you reach for his trousers. “We could do this the natural way…” you whisper, not wanting to make it awkward.

Despite Hongjoong’s obvious distress, he looks at you with an unsure look. “We’re in public, Y/n,” he says, looking around the greenhouse.

“But no one’s around, right?” You also look around, the rain had gotten heavier, and the doors to the greenhouse were closed. It was just you, Hongjoong, and the plants, along with the dim lights inside.

Hongjoong gulped, feeling the knot in his stomach twist more before he nearly whined. “Please help me…”

You didn’t waste time, he looked miserable. Your hands fumbled with the button and zipper of his trousers, then unclipped his suspenders. Your long, black French almond nails raked against his stomach, making him tense up. Hongjoong looked down at you as you cupped his painfully hard bulge, his eyes then fluttering shut as you rubbed him with your palm to at least soothe him.

He let out a sensitive whimper. His hand then grabbed your jaw, pulling you up as he swooned down for a kiss, encasing your lips in his. At that moment your hand squeezed at the wet bulge in his underwear, feeling the beads of precum against your palm.

With your finger hooked onto the waistband of his black underwear, and with one swift motion, you tugged it down to his midthighs. Pulling away from the kiss you cupped your hand under his lips, making him spit all his excess drool into it before taking his leaking, wet cock into said hand.

Hongjoong whimpered again softly. Hair was already sticking to his sweaty forehead due to how strong the aphrodisiac was. He felt like he could cum untouched, but at the same time, it felt as if everything was holding itself in. The tip was drooling and deep red as if irritated, and as you started to pump his cock into your hand you could feel the veins on his shaft pulsating. You looked up at him, his pretty pink spit-covered lips slightly agape. He breathed like he was making noises, but only small broken whines and deep breaths left him. Certain strokes elicited no noises at all, his chest tightening and making him freeze, breath caught in his throat.

Your eyes visibly dilated at the sight. He’s so pretty it hurts. You’ve taken note of your long-time friend, who was also your assistant’s beauty before, but you opted to keep the relationship platonic. This… is platonic, right? Having his pretty cock in your hand as he silently begs you to take care of the problem you caused him with your stupid mistake. Your honest but dumb mistake. A part of you was lowkey grateful about your unconsciousness though, because then you wouldn’t be here so close to him, seeing the drool dribble down his chin and eyebrows creasing in pain and pleasure. You could feel heat pool at your core, slick dripping onto your panties.

“You alright, pretty?” You cooed softly, your free hand cupping his shoulder, your thumb rubbing against the fabric of his dress shirt. He let out a subtle nod, whining like a bitch in heat. The noise made your clit throb, your hole clenching around nothing. “You’re so pretty, Joongie..”

You picked up the pace, running your thumbpad over his slit every time your hand got to his cockhead. You made sure to let your long nails brush against his full, purple-hued balls, and occasionally you would swoop down to massage them for a few seconds before coming back up and pumping his shaft again. Hongjoong sucked in a breath, biting the inside of his cheek. Your hand that was once on his shoulder went to the back of his neck, pulling him in for another kiss.

Hongjoong slid his tongue into your mouth immediately. You could taste the bitterness from the potion when your tongue slid on his, forcing it into his mouth and running over the roof. Both moaned into each other’s mouths, and you grabbed his jaw, pulling back to spit in his mouth. Hongjoong swallowed it without hesitation, his hands trembling as his grip on the counter tightened.

Your grip on his cock tightened. Your fingers felt every vein pulsate under your touch, and the shaft twitched. Your thighs shut against each other, and the hot slick gushed out your hole onto your panties, making a wet spot. You could feel a weighed pool, the aphrodisiac now in your system since you kissed Hongjoong.

Eventually, you let off and unbuttoned your black Lolita-styled dress. Crossing your arms your fingers pinched at the shoulders of your sleeves, pulling them down until your breasts were exposed. Leaving a gentle kiss on his jaw you grazed your fangs down his neck, undoing his button-up and taking it off him. Hongjoong’s skin was covered in sweat, red and hot to the touch. His nipples erect under the caress of your hands, the buds feeling hard enough to hurt without any stimulation.

Lifting your skirt you kneeled before him, making him lean against the counter for a better angle. You pulled off the rest of the top of your dress, bunching it to your waist as you unclipped your bra as well. Hongjoong’s eyes fluttered open, and he looked down at you.

“W-What are you doing now?” he stuttered, watching you drool onto your tits. You look up at him and his lost expression, shaking your head. “Helping you, Joongie,” you mutter, rubbing your saliva over the valley of your mounds. Your hands running over your nipples make you moan, your cheeks heating to a pink flush. Hongjoong stutters out incoherent babbles, and his words are caught in his throat when your tits encase his cock between them, your mouth sealing around the cockhead. Hongjoong’s lips formed an ‘o’ shape, drool falling and directly hitting your tits.

You start to move, tongue swirling and gliding up and down his slit and tip, the salty, pearly beads of precum leaking into your tastebuds. Your hands hold firmly onto the sides of your boobs, guiding them up and down his shaft as your mouth goes to work on the head. Hongjoong’s shaky hands move from the counter, one raking up to move his wet hair and the other firmly seated on your head.

“Y/n,” He moans out prettily, petting your hair. Your eyes flutter shut, focused on making him feel good while also trying to relieve him of the rather painful aphrodisiac. You moan softly around his cock, the vibrations of your hum making his balls tighten. Hongjoong whines out a pathetic “mm’ sorry-” before grabbing your head with both hands and shoving his cock down your throat. Your tits drop out of your hands and you choke a bit, taking a deep breath through your nose as he thrusts rather soppily, creaking out little ‘sorry’s and ‘please’s back to back. His voice cracked a couple of times, whimpering out your name. You grab onto his thighs, nails digging into the sides of them.

Your chokes and gags on his cock echo throughout the greenhouse. The rather humid heat inside makes you yourself sweat as your hair sticks to your forehead and cheeks. You swallow around his cock, his head rubbing against the wet, plush oropharynx.

“G- I- gonna- gonna cum Y/n. m’ so close m’ gonna c-cum,” he whines, his thighs tensing up. He unintentionally pulls on your hair, making you whine out as tears sting your eyes. Your teeth nearly bite down on his cock, the slight graze making him stutter his hips.

‘F-Fuck do it again-” he whimpers. You suck and graze your teeth again over the veins of his cock, and without warning he spills into your mouth. You pull off, choking. His hands move to his cock, jerking desperately as his cum paints your face and hair. You squirm on your heels, your heels digging into your ass. You open your eyes and watch the last of his cum leak out, and you felt your nipples swell at the sight. Like before Hongjoong now grabbed your jaw, spitting whatever aphrodisiac he had left into your mouth. You swallowed, it was fair game.

Getting up onto your now aching feet you let your dress pool at them, leaving you in your lace white panties. Both of you breathed heavily, your head against his chest as your arms ran down his biceps. His hands cupped your ass, pulling down your panties as he pressed his knee against your cunt.

You whimpered, his knee rubbed against your clit before he lifted you up, sitting you down on the metal counter. The heat made you wince, sucking your teeth.

Hongjoong gave you no time to adjust, he hooked his arms under your knees and dragged you to the edge, opening your legs up for him. “H-have t’ fuck you,” he muttered, his cock still rock hard despite cumming seconds ago.

Your eyes met, irises fully taken up with dilated pupils as if you two were cats. You whimpered, and he spit on his hand, gathering your juices as he slid his hand up and down your slit. He entered a ringed finger into you, the cold silver eliciting a hiss from you. Pulling out he entered a second finger, both his ring and middle fingers curling up inside you. His fingers weren’t all that long but it felt so good. He managed to find spots inside your spongey walls that you hadn’t touched without having to go deep inside you, he was skillful in this as much as he was skillful with his large grand piano that he composed his music with.

Hongjoong’s cock rubbed against the metal counter, the hot metal sending shivers down his spine as he felt his cock swell.

When you had enough, you pulled off his fingers, grabbing his waist and pulling him to you. Hongjoong got the memo, slapping his wet cock onto your clit a few times before slowly inserting himself into your hole, making both of you let out loud gasps and whines. Hongjoong was average, about five and a half inches, but you could swear that when he went inside you you felt him grow to at least seven, or eight. His newfound girth stretched you out deliciously, and his manicured, painted nails raked against your thighs. Tears pricked at both your and Hongjoong’s eyes. He sniffled, his nose turning a shade of pink.

“Fuck,” You whispered, laying against the counter. Your eyes fluttered shut, letting a couple of stray tears fall. Your gummy walls fluttered around him a few times before he started to move. His hands went to your swollen tits, fondling and massaging them. His palms were sweaty and covered in cum, fingers pinching and pulling at your nipples turning the hard buds to an irritated shade of red.

With every languid thrust, he hit deep inside you, balls touching the rim of your puckered asshole. The squelching noise of him moving inside you along with the soft claps of his balls against your ass made you feel lightheaded. Your assistant sniffled again above you, hand moving down to your waist as he started picking up the pace of his thrusts.

Your hands moved to your fluid-covered face, covering your teary eyes as his cockhead hit into your cervix snuggly. You sniffled, opening your eyes to look up at the man above you, rutting into your pussy like a pup in heat.

“You feel so good,” He sniffles, swallowing down whatever pathetic sound he may produce next. His head is thrown back, then falls forward as a babbling whine leaves his lips. “Wan m-make you feel g-good Y/n.”

He sucks on the two fingers he used inside you before and rubs them on the rim of your ass before gently pushing inside. You gasp, moaning out loudly as he starts to move them rather languidly compared to his thrusts. The feeling of his cock hitting the right spots inside you quickly and his fingers in your ass going slow made you micro-orgasm, clenching around him as the genuine knot started to build in your tummy. “J-Joong-” You whimpered, before fluttering around his cock as you came, legs tensed up and wrapped around his waist. “Fuck it feels so good,” you sniffle again.

Pulling his cock and fingers out you quickly sat up, shoving Hongjoong to a nearby discarded chair. You stumble off the counter, holding his shoulders as you open his legs, and hike a leg over his lap. Grabbing his face you stamp your lips against his once more, sinking down onto his cock. Despite just being connected the stretch makes both of you moan into each other's mouths, Hongjoong letting out a guttural, broken cry.

You started to hump your clit against his pelvis, but that soon turned into bouncing heavily on his cock. The sound of wet slapping skin resonated loudly throughout the greenhouse, along with a now sobbing Hongjoong along with you. The rain attempting to drown out your sounds was almost futile, your head spinning and ears ringing. You didn’t want to stop, and neither did he. He pulled away from the kiss and grabbed your hips, guiding you up and down his shaft at his own pace.

“Joong!” you cry out, holding the top rail with tears streaming down your flushed cheeks. His hands were firm on your hips, fingers tight enough you were sure it would cause bruising tomorrow. Your ass collided with his thighs harshly, causing red marks to appear on your plush and flushed ass cheeks.

Lifting you and slightly hurling you over his shoulder, Hongjoong held your thighs, keeping your legs apart as he began pistoning up into you. You moaned at the sensation of being filled, physically feeling your womb protrude out from your stomach.

Sitting you back down on him you started to bounce again, rather sloppily this time. Your lips formed in a pout as you whined, hums being produced every time his cockhead met your cum filled cervix.

“D-Don’ wan’ stop,” you murmured, lips pressed against Hongjoong’s sweaty forehead in a sloppy forehead kiss. His black dilated eyes were glued onto you, tears also running down his cheeks.

You began grinding in circles, smothering his cock inside you. You both moaned out sweetly, fangs digging into your bottom lip drawing blood. Hongjoong reached upward, grasping your bottom lip with his teeth as he suckled on the blood. His tongue ran over your bottom lip before pulling away, looking up into your eyes. You started to bounce again, feeling your second orgasm impending.

“all over y-your cock, Joongie,” you babble, your swollen lips blabbering nonsense as you clamp down onto him, the heavy bounces building up again.

“Cum, please cum,” you whine, holding your orgasm back. “W-wan it all inside me.”

Hongjoong started thrusting up again, syncing up in time with your bounces. It didn’t take much, as he started to spill inside your cunt once more, taking one of your breasts into his mouth. He suckled, and as you let go, milk flowed freely from your erect nipples. Hongjoong moaned at the sweet taste, lapping it all up.

You shivered at the sensation, and Hongjoong pulled away with a pop as he flipped you over, bending you over the counter. With a smack to your ass, he entered your pussy from behind, grabbing a hold of your hair. “C-can’t stop-” he sobbed, pounding into you with no sign of slowing down any time soon. “Gonna keep cumming inside your fucking pussy.”

“Please,” you whined, shutting your eyes. Your leaking tits raked against the metal counter, painting it a transparent white with your milk. Hongjoong’s hands sneaked from behind you, reaching around to grab your tits. Squeezing them, he pulled you up against his chest, his pelvis meeting the sore, red skin of your ass. Nonstop was he cumming again and again back to back. Your womb visibly protruded, sticking out like a sore thumb. He wrapped one arm around your tits, the other snaking down and feeling at your tummy, feeling the way his cock slid up and down inside you.

You came again for a third time without warning, legs shaking. Your eyes rolled back to the inside of your head, and a fourth came on when he didn’t stop.

“O-oh- oh fuck!” Hongjoong cried, stilling inside you. You fell forward, grasping the counter. You felt his cock literally knot inside you. It grew in size and locked in you like a key. Cum filled you to the brim, you felt like you could vomit from how full you were. Hongjoong was shaking behind you, and he fell forward as well, arms caging you.

He whimpered softly, sniffling. Heavy pants and sniffles were shared between you as the last of his cum was milked from him. He finally started to soften, and slowly pulled out of you as your minds went back to being levelheaded. His cock departed with a soft, wet pop, and loads of cum pumped out of you in what felt like gallons onto the floor below.

“Gosh…” He breathed out, taking a deep sigh. Your legs trembled, and you, exhausted, kept yourself laying forward on the counter.

“S-So full,” You murmured, the last of his cum spilling out before your womb felt relieved again. Your skin cooled down, the aphrodisiac starting to wear off on the both of you.

Hongjoong gently scooped you up and sat you down into his lap, as you both regained clarity. He nuzzled his nose into your hair, closing his eyes.

“Thank you,” He murmured softly.

“I'll be careful next time,” you murmur back, taking deep breaths.

“Yeah, make sure it's afèconder, not fèconder.”

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steddieas-shegoes · 1 year

Text

A little thing based on this post because it wouldn’t leave my brain:

“I just don’t understand why you won’t try to read it.”

Steve had heard Dustin say this exact sentence hundreds of times at this point.

“I mean, do you know how to read?”

Mike was an asshole. Steve loved him because he was part of the group and he’d been through the same things, but he was such a dick.

“Yes, I know how to read. I just don’t.”

Dustin rolled his eyes.

“If you don’t wanna read nerd shit just say so.”

Steve threw his arms up in frustration.

Steve was a nerd at heart. As a child, he would beg the nanny to take him to the library and the science museum that had real dinosaur fossils. There was something about the peace of exiting his reality and finding a new one among fantasy and history that was indescribable, even to this day.

But as he grew into his looks, he grew out of that phase. At least around others.

And with no nanny around to take him places, he settled for just being the popular guy who hung out with his friends after practice and threw parties at his forever empty house on Saturdays.

But secretly, he still found himself enjoying books late into the night. Never school books, or his grades would’ve been good enough for college, but always incredible novels that took him to other worlds with the most impressively brave people.

And then he lived a nightmare. A few times over. With concussions at every turn.

Now, anytime he tried to read, his head started pounding, his vision got blurry, and ears would start ringing. He stopped trying altogether after Starcourt, but he’d never really let go his love of books.

He occasionally let Robin read to him, but she would get distracted by a plot or character and go on a tangent, leaving Steve confused about what the actual story was. He hated being confused.

“Stevie, you got a minute?”

Eddie had been watching from his spot at the end of the table, where he’d been cleaning up the mess of D&D. He usually made the kids do it, but he’d let them off the hook tonight when they beat the monster and escaped his trap.

Steve and Eddie were friends, definitely. Maybe not close ones, but friends.

Steve had a little crush, definitely. Or a big one. Maybe.

So when Eddie shows him attention, he somewhat shamefully receives it like he’s dying of thirst in a desert.

Robin is the only one who’s noticed so far, but if he keeps acting like a dog being called by his master anytime Eddie talks to him, someone else will comment on it.

“Yeah, what’s up?” Steve asked as he made his way to Eddie.

The kids took this time to talk amongst themselves about the game and what they think will happen next week, and Steve couldn’t have been more grateful.

“You don’t have to tell me, but.” Eddie was tapping his fingers nervously against his leg. “Do you not know how to read?”

“Uh. No I do. I mean I graduated high school. I know it’s hard to believe.”

“Not judging if you can’t, man. I mean, I took three senior years. I’m the last person who can judge.”

“Yeah, but you’re smart. You just didn’t like school,” Steve replied with a pat to his shoulder.

Eddie glanced down at the contact, eyebrow raising and then falling back to normal quickly.

“Just seems like you’d have read something by now to get them off your ass.”

And that’s a really good point. Maybe he should’ve just suffered through a migraine so they’d leave him alone about it.

But migraines left him out for days sometimes, and he couldn’t exactly afford that right now.

“I guess it’s just not worth the migraine.”

He hadn’t meant to actually say it. He didn’t want Eddie to feel bad or for him to try to make him feel better about it or ask questions or talk about the concussion thing.

Actually, did he even know about the concussion thing? Things?

“You get migraines when you try to read?” Then realization hit Eddie hard. “Steve. Do you like reading?”

Something about the way Eddie was looking at him, like he was sad for him but not pitying him, made Steve want to cry.

“I used to, yeah.”

“Everyone out! Your parents are gonna have to come get you! No questions, no explanations, go!” Eddie yelled to the room.

Everyone stared blankly at him before they started protesting, Dustin loudest of all.

“Steve’s my ride!”

“Not anymore. Hitch a ride with Lucas.”

“But Lucas’ mom always squeezes my cheeks and tells me she hopes I never lose my baby fat.”

“She speaks for all of us. Get the hell out of here!”

Steve was actually impressed. Maybe a little turned on? God, he was a disaster.

As everyone cleared out of the room, Eddie patted the seat next to him. When Steve sat down, Eddie scooted his chair so close to him, his knees were touching Steve’s.

“Alright, so you’re gonna tell me about what books you like and what books you want to read and we’re gonna get started.”

Steve blinked at him. “Huh?”

“You have a list I’m sure.”

“Yeah, but…”

“Okay, then we better get started.”

“I mean, I’ve tried. I appreciate it, but even focusing on one page makes my eyes burn and my head hurt.”

“Got that. I’m not asking you to read.”

Sometimes Steve was worried the concussions had actually knocked some screws loose. He wasn’t getting it.

“I’m gonna read to you, Stevie.”

“You don’t have to do that. I’m sure a lot of them will be movies and I can just watch them.”

“It’s not the same. You know it’s not.”

He was right. Steve didn’t have much patience for movies. And sometimes even those gave him migraines if there were a lot of bright lights and explosions.

“Yeah. But still. You don’t have to do that. You might not even like the books.”

“Ah, this isn’t a completely free service, my liege.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “I don’t have extra money to pay you, dude.”

“Not money. I get to pick a book to read to you when we finish the first book you pick.”

“Is it The Hobbit?”

“It is,” Eddie looked so smug.

“Well, that was my first choice,” Steve stared back, equally as smug.

“So, your house is empty.”

“Yep.”

“And I’m assuming you own this book.”

“I do.”

“And it’s getting late.”

Steve looked out the window at the pitch black skies.

“It’s late.”

“So I could stay and read you to sleep.”

“Won’t I miss some of the book?”

“I’ll stop when you’re asleep.”

Steve’s heart was practically begging him to say yes. Eddie reading to him in his bed? Possibly falling asleep together? Maybe even waking up together? It couldn’t be a better proposition. Well. It could.

“Will you stay even if I fall asleep?”

Eddie smirked. “If that’s what you want, sweetheart.”

It wasn’t the first time he’d called Steve that, but it was the first time it felt like he meant it in a non-teasing way.

“Okay.”

So they both changed into some of Steve’s comfy clothes, got into his bed, and Eddie started reading The Hobbit.

Just as he was during D&D and real life, Eddie was animated, providing different voices for different characters and often giving long pauses to let Steve soak in what the words meant.

Steve didn’t even have to ask him to do that. He just did.

Steve fell asleep somewhere between halfway and the end of chapter two, but Eddie stayed.

And they woke up the next day with Steve’s head resting on Eddie’s chest, Eddie’s arms wrapped around him to keep him as close as possible.

They finished the The Hobbit in a week, and because Eddie was now committed to making sure Steve was well-read, they started moving through his list rapidly, falling for each other in new ways every time Eddie turned a page.

Part 2 (Angst) / Part 2 (Fluffy) / Part 2 (Explicit)

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #tumblr drabbles #ao3fic #headcanon #secret nerd Steve Harrington

5K notes · View notes

nanaslutt · 8 months

Text

thinkin about the one bed troupe with coworker!nanami

contains: fem reader, manhandling, degradation, choking, size kink, mean nanamin, the knee thing :p, dom/sub undertones implied, use of ‘slut’ and ‘whore’, gentleman nanamin at the begining<3

MDNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔

finishing up with a mission that took a little longer than expected and having to book a room last minute at some run down motel with nanami, the only room available only housing one bed :(

after a long back and forth conversation with lots of protests from nanami insisting he would sleep on the floor, you both end up taking the bed,

both of you laying on your sides facing the wall, your back to nanami, his chest towards your back

he tried his best to maintain a respectful distance away from you, proving futile as his large body alone took up more than half the twin bed

“goodnight’s” have been said, getting all settled in under the covers after nanami flicks off the light on the bedside table

feeling the heat from his body radiate against your back, realizing just how close you were in proximity, silence filling the room, save for his deep breaths that reached your ears, making goosebumps run down your arms

rubbing your thighs together as subtly as possible, gaining the courage to push your ass back into his crotch, sayin, “sorry nanamin, ‘s just so cold..” and he believes you because you’re his sweet little coworker, why would you lie to him?

he feels absolutely awful when his dick twitches at your cute little voice, cock now tenting in his pants

squeezing his eyes shut he tried to think about anything other than your hips wiggling back into him every couple seconds

he knows he shouldn’t feel like this, you’re just trying to get comfortable! the mattress is stiff and it really is cold in here! he’s praying you don’t feel how hard he is, cock now standing under his clothes at full attention

little does he know his filthy coworker knows exactly what she’s doing

biting your lip, growing wetter as you get exactly the right reactions you wanted out of him, trying not to moan as you feel how fucking big he is between your cheeks

he places a big hand on your hip and grips hard, when your subtle grinding gets a little too obvious, “are you doing this to me on purpose?” his deep voice whispers into your ear, sending shivers down your spine, suppressing a whine

“thought you were cold but you’re just a little slut, huh?” he harshly rolls you onto your back, pinning your smaller frame underneath his much larger one, sliding a knee between your legs he pushes right up against where you needed him most,

“had me feeling so guilty for getting this fucking hard,” he emphasizes by reaching a big palm between you and rubbing himself over his slacks, “i was trying to be respectful.” he continues, releasing the strong grip on his cock and roughly grabbing your neck,

you gasp, using both your hands to grab his thick wrist, feeling lightheaded from the strength he was showing off

“but you don’t wanna be treated with respect, isn’t that right?” he seethed, leaning his face down inches from yours, emphasizing his point by squeezing your neck, your jaw dropping open, whimpering at his rough treatment,

“you think i’m an idiot? huh?,” he pushes his knee into your core and you snap your legs shut around his rippling thigh, “think i’m some dumb whore like you? huh?”

and what happens next has you sealing your own fate,

you fucking smirk, and he swears he’s never felt the need to put someone in their place as bad as he needs to put you in yours now, “oh you think this is funny?” he growls releasing your neck opting to grip your jaw and make you look directly at him, veins bulging on his hands, “let’s see if youre still laughing after i fuck the brat out of you.”

#nanami pls be mean to me #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk nanami #jujutsu kaisen nanami #jjk smut #jujutsu nanami #nanami kento #nanami smut #nanaslutt #jjk kento #kento nanami #kento x reader #kento x y/n #kento smut #kento x you #nanamin

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unstable-samural · 1 month

Text

A NEW LOVE AND A NEW PAST - smut

JOY X MALE READER

word count: 5.3K

tags: friends to lovers, first healthy relationship, angst

[A/N: This is the first version, I will eventually correct the errors:)

★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★

Y/N ended the day as usual. The inside of the house was slowly being swallowed by black, and when he finally realized it, he was enveloped in complete darkness. Y/N went out feeling the walls in search of the switch. The lights came on, but he still felt everything was enveloped in darkness for some reason. He had already submitted the report that he spent the week working on for the company; now he was free, although he wanted to continue working on something. The house was clean, the dishes were washed, and the clothes were put away in the closet... Shit, there was nothing else to do that night. He had to be “entertained” Everyone needed that, after all. But he wouldn’t have the focus to read a book or watch a movie. Maybe playing a video game would be the best alternative. He decided that would be it, so he took a shower and prepared his dinner (Cup Noodles, if that can be called dinner).

At around 7:00 pm, his doorbell rang. He did not expect visitors that night. Y/N paused his game and got up from the sofa to open the door.

It was a real surprise to see who it was. Standing there, slightly crestfallen and apparently not knowing what she was doing.

He had never seen her like that.

“Joy?!” Y/N asked, alarmed.

“Y/N... Can I come in?”

“Sure!”

He opened the way for her to pass. Joy was dressed in her ballet uniform; that’s what she taught at a dance studio nearby.

“Are you well?” He asked.

“Yes. I mean, not exactly…”

“What are you doing here?”

“Am I disturbing you?”

“No way! That’s not what I meant. It’s just that I’m worried about you showing up unannounced.”

“Sorry.” He noticed how tired she looked. “We had a fight, Y/N. We had a serious disagreement today. And I think it’s over.

It took him a while to process what she said.

“Fight?”

Finally, he remembered who she was talking about.

“Yes. And at the end of it all, I said it was over between us. I broke up with you know who.”

“Come, sit on the sofa” he asked, and she sat down next to him. “Why did you break up with him?”

“Things haven’t been good for a while, but i was trying to hold on, cause I thought it was just a bad phase in our relationship, but then other problems came and I couldn’t handle it all alone. You could say I’ve reached my limit.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“It all happened very quickly. I’m still in my ballet uniform.” She smiled. It was a sad smile.

“But why, out of all your friends, did you choose to come to me?” Y/N asked, feeling afraid that perhaps she would misinterpret his question.

“When I was leaving his apartment, your image suddenly came to mind. So I felt like seeing you. How long is it? About four months?”

“Pretty much that. Look, to tell you the truth, I thought I’d never see you again. You or anyone from our old friends.”

“That fight really messed everything up between us, didn’t it?”

“Yes...”

“And to this day I don’t understand how things got to that point.”

“I was drunk as hell and said what I shouldn’t have to him. That simple. Some people even die because they do this kind of shit, you know?” Y/N tried to look funny with this, but it didn’t work.

“Was everything you said true?”

“No. Not really. I was just angry.”

“He thought it was true. Still thinking.”

“What difference does it make? Nothing I say will make him believe me. If they hadn’t held him back, the guy would have punched me.”

“A beating,” she corrected him. “At home, he said he would kick your ass.”

“Ah, even better.”

“You asked what difference the truth makes. Well, It’s ME who wants to understand you, Y/N. This is important to me."

“Why? This is past. You seem to be getting off-topic here. We have to talk about your breakup.”

“The two things are connected, you idiot!” Joy exclaimed, and then Y/N saw her blush. “Sorry! I exalted myself.”

Y/N didn’t imagine that being called an idiot could be cute. With a defeated smile, he said:

“The truth was, I was mad at him for getting what I wanted. The anger grew the more time we spent together. The anger came with the frustration I felt in my life, then it became envy, and the envy poisoned me and led me to say those things.”

“I thought it was just because of the alcohol.” She said, confused.

“Actually, I wasn’t drunk enough to say that shit by accident. I knew perfectly well what I was saying. The alcohol was just an excuse. At that moment I didn't realize that I was embarrassing you too. I'm fucking sorry.”

He lowered his head. Y/N would rather face death than look her in the eye.

“But what were you jealous of in him? If you lived with him like I did, you would know that there is nothing there to covet.”

“He had the only thing I cared about for himself. And that made me extremely frustrated. My idea was to slowly move away from him and cut off contact over time, but I knew he would never allow things to end that way. That’s why I acted like an idiot to kill our friendship once and for all. I... I hated myself for how I felt. That shit was making me sick, Joy. I felt like a snake among you...”

She placed her gentle hand on his shoulder, and she looked so pious in that moment that it only made Y/N feel worse.

“What did he have and you didn’t? Say please.”

“You, Joy. He had you.” The words came out of his mouth so bitterly that the expression of disgust on his face was visible.

“me?” She questioned. “Was it me you were jealous of?”

“Yes. I couldn’t bear to see you two together. It hurt like hell to see you in his arms when I was the one who should have been hugging you... See? I don’t even know what I’m talking about anymore. I’m sorry. Again..."

“Do you want to know why your fight with him was also connected to the end of our relationship? Because I was away from you. And when I broached this subject with him, he became extremely angry. I tried to reconcile the two of you, but he didn’t accept it. As the months passed, I felt increasingly lonely in this relationship. Everything was so cold at home, and sometimes what warmed me were the memories of the times we two spent together.” She smiled. “Like that day when I tried to teach you some ballet steps and you almost couldn’t walk for a week.”

“Hey, that shit was serious, okay? Too risky moves for beginners!”

She couldn’t contain her laughter. It was good to see her happy like that; it made him feel a little better.

“I was having trouble understanding. Or I simply made it difficult to understand the simple thing: I like you too, Y/N.”

“Even when you were with him?”

“Our relationship started off very well, but it didn’t take long for him to start feeling like he owned me, judging what I wore, what I ate, my friends, and even my weight. As if my mother judging me wasn’t enough...”

“Damn it! I had no idea you were going through this. I can’t believe he treated you so stupidly!”

“You don’t need to be jealous of him, Y/N. Why he will never compare to you, I now realize. You noticed the little details about me, like when I painted my nails, did my hair or changed my lipstick. Now i think I was very blind in not realizing before that you liked me!”

“Saying it like that makes it seem like I really made everything very obvious” he said, placing both hands on his face to hide it, embarrassed.

“Don’t run away now, little boy!” Joy took his hands away from his face. “If you want, we can allow ourselves to try.”

“What about him? Is it really over?”

“Tomorrow morning, I’m going to his house to pick up my things. I never want to see him again.” Joy placed her soft hand on Y/N’s face; he could feel the softness and warmth that her skin emanated.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked, strangely polite.

“Please!”

They brought their faces closer and their lips touched, almost embarrassed, but soon they found their own rhythm and things intensified; their tongues were already dancing together. Y/N had his hand on Joy’s leg, his fingers between the fabric of the shorts and the ballet tights. She seemed so surrendered at that moment, and all he wanted was to have her in his arms, holding her tighter and tighter, as if she would regret what she had done and run away from there. A silly delirium, because Joy had her arms around his neck, and she herself was the one pressing Y/N’s face against hers. In love.

“It was good?” She asked.

“I don’t even dare to describe it. Tell me you’re going to sleep here.”

“It would be amazing. But don’t expect anything other than falling asleep together; honestly, I’m still not feeling very well.”

“No problem. I just want to have you here with me.”

“Thank you, Y/N. You don’t know, but i was forced to have sex with him whenever he felt like it, no matter how tired or unwell I said I was. But I guess I shouldn’t be talking about that now, right? I’m ruining things.”

Y/N realized that there was a deep emotional wound in Joy, which perhaps took time to heal and this also tore him apart, as he always saw her smiling, laughing, supporting her friends and even making some silly pranks. Above all, caring about everyone around her, except herself, apparently.

“You’re not ruining anything! And you don’t need to thank me for something that should be the least of my part.”

He hugged Joy, she leaned her head on his shoulder, and they remained that way for a while, until he asked:

“How about you take a shower and change your clothes? You must be tired. Did you eat anything after you left the studio?”

“I haven’t eaten anything yet. I’m starving.”

“Go take a shower. I’ll get you something to wear and then we can order something to eat.”

“Thanks.” For a moment, it looked like Joy was going to say something else, instead she just kissed him on the cheek and went into the bathroom.

After showering, Joy wore the clothes that Y/N had lent her, which were basically cotton shorts and a Muse t-shirt. Then suddenly, she appeared in the room saying:

“What’s up, bro? What’s for dinner tonight, dude? I’m so hungry!”

“Hey, did you happen to see that pretty girl who went to the bathroom?”

“I didn't see any girls. But what do you say we make a little mess before this girl shows up, huh? You know what I mean, bro?”

"Okay, I'm starting to get intimidated."

She jumped onto the couch, laughing.

“These clothes are very comfortable; thank you.”

“I'm glad you liked it. Hey how about we eat chop-suey?”

“You are wise as a king.”

He ordered the food.

Sitting on the sofa, Y/N asked:

“What do you think people will think of this?”

“Do you mean: 'we' together?”

“Exactly.”

Joy lay down on the sofa and rested her head on Y/N’s lap.

“Seulgi will like it, I believe. She was the only person I told what was really happening in my relationship. She was the one who encouraged me to break up.”

“Seulgi was a tremendous angel! I miss her too. You didn’t deserve to go through all this shit. But I’m glad it’s over. I mean, I hope so.”

“I need to let go of some insecurities. He told me cruel things, which were backed up by my own mother. You know my mother was also a ballerina, and they can be quite inhumane sometimes.”

“Let’s take care of one wound at a time. Together.”

She smiled and slowly closed her eyes. There were dark circles under Joy’s eyes, so he knew she was indeed tired.

“It wasn’t in my plans to say I love you today” she confessed. “But I think I love you, Y/N.”

“I have always loved you, Joy. And from now on, I will take care of you with kindness and love, the way you deserve. I hope to prove this to you over time.”

“You don’t need to prove anything to me” she whispered. “I already know this because whenever I’m by your side, I feel peace.”

Hearing this made him find a little courage to also be sincere about some shit.

“After the shit that happened in the bar, I created my own prison and stayed in it for four months. Terribly lonely. Work was my escape valve. After a while, I started to think it was better to stay in the dark, since the lights distorted everything around me. It was nothing more than shine; It always gave me a headache."

“I’m sorry you had to face this seclusion. But I finally came, we won't feel alone anymore.”

He stroked her hair slowly. Time was no longer his enemy.

“And one day we can say ‘fuck you’ to the past.” Y/N stated, he seemed determined.

“I can hardly wait for that day....." She broke into a smile when she thought about it. "Wow! It means I'm your Joy now, right?

Her eyes were still closed when a tear fell.

“Yes, you are my Joy now. I think you always have been, since the day we met, since the first smile you gave me.”

Another tear, this one Y/N captured softly with his thumb.

Three months had passed. It was the rainy season in the city, and the days were shrouded in bone-chilling cold. That night, torrential rain had been pouring down without respite since the end of the afternoon. Everyone completed what they had to complete as soon as possible to return to their respective homes.

Bad luck to those who had to be on the street.

Joy was with the last child, waiting for her parents at the ballet studio. The rain was delaying all traffic, so it was not uncommon for some girls to stay until a little later, waiting for their parents. For the teacher, it was no bother at all. Finally, a black car that looked very expensive stopped in front of the studio and honked loudly. The little girl said goodbye to Joy and ran through the rain to the vehicle. Joy was now free to go home. She put a coat over her ballet outfit and walked around the studio, turning off all the lights. The establishment wasn’t hers; she worked with two other teachers, and there was an old retired dancer who was the owner behind everything. The fact that she was still there was for the simple reason that Joy was the only person among the studio’s employees who lived in that neighborhood, so it was no problem to stay a little later with the children whose parents were late picking them up and finally close the studio. After turning off all the lights, she took her umbrella and locked the main door.

There was a guy leaning against a light pole next to the dance studio wearing a dark raincoat with a hood. It was a pretty ridiculous piece of clothing, to be honest. Joy found that person strange for a moment and approached, slightly suspicious. After getting close enough to see his face, she said:

“Y/N!” And Joy smiled, excited. “I thought you couldn’t come today!”

“I finished the report early. I decided to come and get you. A pretty girl like you shouldn’t walk the streets alone...”

She laughed. Joy really thought that sleazy accent that Y/N used when she wanted to say corny things was funny.

“Pretty? I look like a bird that fell out of its nest! Can you believe I was able to sweat a lot even in this cold?”

“Big Deal! Can you believe I was drinking hot coffee in my room, completely protected from the cold, while I finished writing some shit sitting in an extremely comfortable chair?”

“Jesus Christ! What would society be without men and their hard work?” she joked.

“Isn’t it? You couldn’t last a day in my shoes.”

““I don’t even want to think about it!” She grabbed his right bicep. “Luckily I have my strong and fearless provider.”

“Oh, Really? Well, i hope you introduce me to him someday. Anyway, I was thinking about taking you for a walk before we go home, are you up for it?”

“In this rain?”

“Since when are you made of sugar?”

“Where do you want to go?”

“First let’s drink some coffee. Then I’ll take you to a certain place so we can do something.”

“I thought you already drank while working hard on the computer.”

“I can make that sacrifice again.”

“And you still wonder why you have insomnia...”

The devil knew how much Joy needed a coffee too, so the two walked together down the deserted sidewalk.

At the coffee shop, Y/N ordered an espresso and a cupcake, he loved the combination of a bitter drink with something sweet. Joy ordered a cappuccino and a croissant.

“We've been living together for three months now.” He commented sitting at the table.

“I don’t know if we can call this ‘living together’.”

“You spend several days in a row at my house, so my house is a little like yours too.”

“If you think so” And she continued to eat the croissant.

“What if we make it official soon?”

“Are you talking about me living with you?”

“Exactly! It’s a good house. Spacious. We can receive our friends without any worries. It’s close to your work... I see no reason why it wouldn’t happen”

“Where is my toothbrush now?”

Y/N found the question strange but replied:

“At home. In my bathroom. Next to my toothbrush.”

She looked at him with her eyes shining, and Y/N could see that she was happy.

“So that’s it.” Joy tried to suppress her smile by drinking some of her coffee.

“Serious?!” Y/N asked so loudly that the people sitting at the tables around them looked at them.

“Sure! And speak more quietly, please.”

“Sorry” He laughed. “I’m fucking happy, that’s all.”

“I’m happy too.”

“I could scream right now for everyone here to hear.”

“Oh my gosh... don’t even think about it!

“Do you doubt it?! Are you doubting my love for you?!”

He started to get up.

“No, no! I don't doubt it! I know you love me, but I will die of embarrassment if you scream!” She tried to explain, desperate.

Y/N returned to his chair and laughed until tears came out of his eyes.

Walking and walking in the rain once again. Y/N stopped with Joy in front of the shopping mall that rose like a titan, casting dazzling lights across the square. They entered and noticed that most of the stores were already closed. Joy said:

“I think you came a little late to buy your underwear. By the way, you could do it without me.”

“Look, this weekend I’m going to sign you up for a stand-up comedy show for beginners so you can tell your jokes on stage, what do you think? No, what I want to show you is there on the third floor.”

“I just hope it’s not a wedding thing.”

“Do people still get married?”

They got into the elevator and went to the third floor. Looking at the mirror that was there, Y/N noticed how ridiculous he looked in that raincoat. Joy made fun of him by saying he looked like a trash bag.

“I’m really going to sign you up for a stand-up comedy show” he reaffirmed. “Just know that this raincoat is all the rage in Japan!”

“And what are the chances that the salesman told the truth?”

Y/N was silent.

The third floor was almost empty. He took Joy to the toys and games area, which was partially closed, but the lights were still on. She looked surprised. Not in a positive way.

“Arcade? We could have played video games at home.” She said.

“Mr. Miyagi used to say that the eyes are only capable of seeing a third of the truth. You have to look with your heart, too. Joy, you should learn a thing or two from him.”

“I never saw the movie but I know he never said that.”

“Take off your coat and come with me.” He asked, and then ran to the arcade.

“Hey, wait a minute!” She followed him, unbuttoning her coat.

Y/N stopped at the end of a narrow corridor between pinball tables and shooting games. Joy still hadn’t understood what the hell he was doing until she guided her eyes to where he was pointing, and there it was: an old, faded photo booth. That’s what he's wanted all along. Analog photos. Well, that was cute; she couldn’t deny it.

“Would you agree to take some photos with me?" He asked kneeling.

Joy extended her hand to him.

"It will be a pleasure."

Y/N smiled at her. He never got tired of admiring how beautiful she looked in a ballet uniform. They entered the machine together. Joy sat on his lap and put an arm around her neck.

“Money in banknotes?!” He questioned in awe. “The last time I got into some shit like that, it was coins.”

“The machine may be analog, but the company that built it certainly keeps up with inflation.”

“Anyway, let’s go!”

Y/N put his money in the booth and pressed the button, waiting for the first photo to be taken. Then came the flash, which caught him off guard. “You blinked!” she said. “The photo will be funny.” More flashes, and also more poses. They put on a tough face for the camera, then they smiled with their cheeks touching, then they made the ugliest faces they could, and finally they kissed.

The booth complied with the deal and spat out the roll of photos. They analyzed it together and, with the exception of the first image (the one where Y/N had blinked his eyes), all the photographs were great.

“I really liked this surprise. It will be a good memory. I think simple days also need to be remembered.” Joy commented in the elevator.

“I was afraid it would look silly. But I’ve wanted to take photos like these with you for a long time. We can make a mini-album or something. I don’t know, in my mind, it’s kind of special.”

“Mr. Miyagi used to say that when something is special in your mind, it is because it is also very special in your heart. You should learn a thing or two from him…”

“Oh, come on...”

Joy couldn't contain her laughter. Seeing her like that warmed his heart.

“Look, seriously now: i think the photos and the other things we’ll do will make the past a little better when we look back in the future.”

“A new past.” His voice sounded ethereal.

Yeah, a new past! But our hearts must stay in the present. Ever.”

Joy gave him a hug. He hugged her back, and they stayed like that as the elevator descended to the first floor. He wished simple days were always like this.

At home, a hot shower was more than enough to banish the cold they felt while on the streets. He was lying in bed looking at those photos again. They were really good, he concluded, and the record seemed to positively signal an important moment in their lives, after all, the photos were taken on the day she agreed to live with him permanently. And this might even seem strange since the formal dating request had not yet been made. But, well, fuck conventions. They were a couple, and the dating proposal would be made soon.

When she was ready.

Y/N was so far away in his thoughts that he didn’t notice when Joy had come out of the bathroom, standing in front of him, wearing a beautiful pink slinky nightie that adjusted to the curves of her body.

“Joy...?”

“I bought it a while ago, when I was still dating, you know who, but I never had the courage to use it. Not after he talked about me being fat.”

“You’re not fat. And even if he was, fuck them all with their shitty opinions.”

“You made me feel comfortable wearing that slinky nightie again.”

“I did nothing. You realized how beautiful you are on your own.”

Joy approached slowly. So beautiful, so sensual, like paradise. She sat on the edge of the bed and said:

“Thank you for caring about me, baby. I've been smiling to the point that I've created expression marks on my face since I started staying here with you."

“You’d be surprised how easy it is. And these marks... look good on you."

Y/N noticed that her cheeks were softly flushed.

“I feel ready now.”

“Are you sure?"

“I have never been as sure as I am now. You are my man. I'm your-”

“Joy” he completed.

She crawled onto the bed like a feline.

They find themselves in a fiery embrace, their bodies melting into an ember of insatiable desire. Each touch was a discovery, an exploration of carnal pleasure imbued with true feeling. Precious like a diamond. Y/N’s lips traced a path of fire down Joy’s neck, leaving a trail of heat that burned on her delicate skin. As he lowered the strap of Joy’s slinky nightie, his fingers trembled with excitement, eager to touch the soft, inviting skin that was revealed just to him. It was the longing for love combusting.

Laying Joy on the bed, Y/N immersed his head in the delight of her tits, exploring each curve with fervent devotion. His lips found Joy’s nipples, eliciting moans of pleasure that echoed through the room, while his hands explored every inch of her body with palpable urgency.

Tracing a trail of kisses across Joy’s body, Y/N got closer and closer to his goal; he had a wild desire to taste her. Each kiss was like a promise of pleasure, an anticipation of what was to come. Joy writhed beneath his skillful touches, her moans filling the night air as she gave herself over completely to the heat of the moment.

And then, finally, Y/N put his head between Joy’s legs. With a decisive look, he plunged his tongue into the source of her desire, savoring every drop of forbidden nectar that she was barely dripping with. It was a scene of ecstasy and abandonment to reason, a total surrender to the desire that consumed them. Joy gripped the sheets, her moans of pleasure mixing with the sound of the night rain as she lost herself in the waves of pleasure that took her to the edge. The senses were heightened, an eternal moment, the words sounded alive when she announced that she was going to cum. Y/N got goosebumps. He never imagined that words could make him so excited. Then her delicious honey dripped into his mouth.

“I want to feel you inside me.” She murmured after recovering from her first true orgasm.

Y/N took off his boxer shorts in an instant. She saw how hard his dick was as he opened the rubber package.

That would be the two’s first time together. Hungry with desire, he didn’t hesitate as he pushed his latejante cock into Joy’s hot, wet vagina, both of them writhing with pleasure on the messy bed, fucking in missionary position. Each thrust was a frenzied thrust, their bodies slamming together in a wild rhythm. Their eyes met in a mix of lust and love, while their mouths locked in voracious kisses, moans escaping their lips as they gave in to passion.

Joy, feeling taken by her impulses of domination, mounted him, guiding his hard cock inside her with an agile movement of her hips. Her boobs swayed freely with the rhythm of her riding, inviting Y/N to grab and caress them with his warm hands. Each movement of her hips is a thrust, an explosion of pleasure, their sweaty bodies moving in perfect harmony as she leans in to kiss him without ever stopping the flow of her hips.

Y/N grabs Joy by the waist and puts her on all fours, exposing her temptingly pert ass in front of him. Without hesitation, he thrusts into her hard, their bodies slamming together in a wild frenzy. Each thrust is deep and relentless. Moans of pleasure echo throughout the room, mixing with the sound of skin hitting skin.

“oh fuck, i’m gonna cum!” he said between moans.

Joy got out of bed and got on her knees before he even asked. She was thirsty for it. She took off the rubber and wrapped Y/N’s throbbing cock in her fleshy lips with an insatiable hunger, determined to explore every inch of that source of pleasure that rose hard just for her. Joy’s eyes sparkled with devotion as she immersed herself in the task, making extremely erotic eye contact. Her tongue, skillful and thirsty, traced circles around the pulsing red glans of his cock, exploring every groove and vein with an almost scientific meticulousness. She savored every drop of precum that came out as her skilled hands gently caressed and squeezed his balls. With rehearsed dexterity, she slid her lips to the base, swallowing him with a voracity that made Y/N moan loudly. With each upward movement, Joy sucked with insatiable ferocity, sending waves of pleasure through his body. Every inch of his cock was explored and devoured, as if she were determined to extract every last drop of pleasure he could offer. And when finally Y/N could no longer contain the impending explosion, Joy intensified her efforts, sucking with an insatiable intensity until he could no longer hold back, flooding her mouth with warm milky cum, which Joy swallowed without wasting a single drop.

FOLLOWING DAY

It had already become part of her routine to wake up alone in bed. Fortunately, the noises from the kitchen were welcoming to her ears. Joy got out of bed wrapped in the comforter. The morning was rainy (what a surprise).

There he was, by the stove, finishing what looked like scrambled eggs.

“Good morning” she said, sitting down at the table.

“Good morning, baby. Are you hungry?”

“Oh dear, I could eat an elephant!”

“I prepared toast, scrambled eggs, coffee and there’s cheese and ham if you want a sandwich.”

“You are so divine!”

“Thanks. By the way, could you get the milk for me?”

“Obvious.”

Joy got up and went to the fridge. When she opened the door and took the bottle of milk, she noticed that there was a small square box at the bottom of the fridge.

“What is that?” she asked.

“I don’t know. Why don’t you open it and find out?”

“Oh, Y/N! It’s not what I’m thinking, is it…?”

She couldn’t control the shaking of her hands. When he lifted the lid of the box, two rings sparkled.

“Will you agree to date me? My strategy was to persuade you with the help of drowsiness. It worked?”

“Shit, it worked great!” She started to laugh nervously. Then came the crying.

Y/N helped Joy. He took one of the rings and put it on her right ring finger; she did the same with it.

“These are our dating rings.” He told. "I know putting this in the fridge isn't the best of surprises, but you don't have a very creative guy on your side."

“It was unusual, but cute. I bet I'm the only one who opened the fridge to get some milk and ended up getting a dating ring. When I saw this ring box, God... for a second, I thought they were wedding rings!”

“I love you, but I also know how to take it easy.” He joked.

“I loved it. Thank you, Y/N.”

The morning remained cold, wet and impetuous, but, believe it or not, towards the end of the afternoon, a blessing occurred. The sun rose for a few moments and shone benevolently, and a couple who were now breathing in unity were able to contemplate it, and despite being in different places when this happened, their minds came together in a single thought: what a joy it was to be alive.

END

[A/N: I know for some people reading this the "dating ring" thing might seem weird. But in my culture it's something relatively common, and I only knew it was a cultural thing when I finished writing the smut. I decided to keep this detail because, idk, i think it's kinda a cute thing, although some people find it bizarre and associate with being possessive cause they have a severe perception about rings in relationships.

But this is nothing more than a simple silver plated ring that symbolizes a serious relationship. Common among young couples.

Well that's it. Keep your mind open and thanks for reading 🔥

I was a little inspired by this song:

youtube

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eraenaa · 3 months

Text

Still Casual?

Part two of Casual

Rafe Cameron x Reader

Synopsis: You promised yourself that you’re never going to settle for casual ever again— promised yourself you would never be another casualty of Rafe Cameron.

Warnings: ¿Groveling?, Mentions of Substance Use, P in V Sex, Oral Sex (F & M receiving {69}), Very Slight use of Force, Not Proofread

Word Count: 4,681

It was forthcoming; the warning signs were clear and loud, and red flags were waving, but you ignored them and proceeded without caution. Now, you must reap the consequence of living for the hope of it all. You returned home quickly after seeing such a scene at Rafe’s party. It was pathetic, but you kept looking at your phone in hopes that he would leave a message or even call you, wondering why you didn’t come. But why would he? He was preoccupied and entertained by a new ever-lovely jewel— what need would he have of you? You couldn’t even let yourself cry— you couldn’t even mourn because what is there to mourn? You could not grieve something that was casual. It would be foolish of you to do so.

Now, you lay in your room trying to convince yourself that it was not as deep as you had believed it to be. That it should not affect you this greatly. Convincing yourself to be numb as your heart beats betrayal. You have betrayed yourself because you desired more— regretted your actions because you had settled for casual.

You hesitated to call your friends and tell them what had happened, fearing they say, “I told you so” and “I warned you,” but they were gracious enough to keep those thoughts to themselves, suggesting you should visit them in the city and keep your mind off Rafe, which was difficult to do whilst on the island. It was a spontaneous decision, but with one message to your parents telling them that you’ll be going to New York and that you’ll need to borrow their jet and them replying with a thumbs up, you were quick to go wheels up and fly away from the outer banks.

“So, is it over now? Did you break it off with him?” Your friends asked as you gathered for brunch in the city. You frowned at their question, “What’s there to break off? We weren’t anything,” You mumbled. “Exactly, you weren’t anything! Why, then, are you so wounded?” Your friend, who was notorious for being frank and a tad insensitive, asked. You stayed quiet, not wanting to word out that you had optimism that your dalliance with Rafe would turn into something more. “You know what you should do?” Your friend asked, and you waited for them to finish their thought. “Give him a taste of his own medicine— the last time I was there, weren’t there two guys fighting for your attention? Use them and flaunt to Rafe this casualness he’s insisting on,” They suggested, and you scrunched up your nose in disagreement.

“I’m not gonna do that! I… I’m not gonna use some innocent guy as a tool in the hopes of making Rafe jealous! That’s just mean and petty; besides, it might not even work.” You reasoned. “I just don’t want casual anymore. I want an actual relationship.” You sighed and locked eyes with your two closest friends. “You know what you have to do, don’t you?’ They asked, and you dejectedly nodded your head. “It’s just… if I end our arrangement, it means it’ll be the end of all that great sex,” you solemnly said, making your friends laugh at your admittance. “Oh, come on, it can’t be that great,” your friend scoffed in doubt, but you shook your head. “It is…I— the other night, he made me come seven times…seven! I could barely walk the next day,” you whispered, feeling heat rise to your cheeks as you recalled that memory.

“Really? Seven times?” Your friend asked, intrigued, and you nodded your head, seeing the slight bewilderment in their eyes. “No! That’s beside the point! You deserve someone better— like those guys in those movies and books you love! Not this… frat bro who uses women as his cock warmer!” You sighed and nodded your head in agreement. “I knew you moving to North Carolina was a mistake,” Your friend sighed, “You’re too good for that place— it’s practically Florida!” Your friends said it with disgust, and you laughed at their snobbiness. You spent a week in the city, your friends trying hard to preoccupy your mind and show that you deserved better than Rafe. That you should never settle again— that tens or even hundreds of guys would treat you better than he would. Taking you to bars and parties from Brooklyn to the Upper East Side just to find a guy that would take your mind off of Rafe, none did the job.

You went back to the Outer Banks feeling a bit better, your friends finally convincing you to remove any casual attachments because, knowing you, you would stay for more and be subjected to being one of Rafe’s playthings as long as he’d hold you in his arms. You were about to message him, asking him to meet you by the beach to halt your affairs with him and end your casual relationship. But before you could even type out the message, the doorbell rang, and you heard the hushed voice of the housemaid talking with Rafe. You furrowed your brows but stayed in your spot, not wanting to check if it was actually Rafe because if he saw you now, you would have no choice but to halt and cut ties.

“Where were you? I’ve been calling you since last week, and you’ve been ignoring my calls and messages.” Your back was against him as he found you in the dining room. Your knees felt weak as you heard the deep baritone of his voice and the distinct smell of his cologne. You gathered the courage to face him, “I was in New York,” You reasoned and tried hard not to show hesitancy on your face. “Is that why you missed my party? I was waiting for you, and I even got that expensive ass wine you like because you don’t drink beer,” Rafe asked, walking towards you; his voice held confusion and, dare you say, sadness or hurt because you ceased contact with him for almost two weeks.

You backed away towards the table and shook your head, willing yourself to stay strong and not grow soft by his charms or be attracted by his look; it was impossibly hard to do so. “No… I… went to your party,” You said, watching as Rafe’s brows shit in surprise, him inching towards you. “And, uhm… whilst I was there, I realized something.” You added and backed yourself toward the dining room table, nowhere to go as Rafe stood inches from you. “What?” He asked, trying to capture your gaze, but you were staring at the floor. You took a deep breath before the words left your lips, uncertain and fearing how he would react. Surely, he won’t react badly, right? You were just casual; he won’t be throwing a fit because you decided to end your dalliance. It won’t affect him; it won’t anger or sadden him. And the thought of him being unaffected wounded you.

“I…I realized I don’t want this. I don’t want casual.” You explained. There was a beat of silence, and you finally lifted your gaze to see the confusion in Rafe’s blue eyes. “What… I don’t understand. I— you wanted this,” He said, and you watched the concussion in his eyes hide slight anger. “I thought I did. I thought I could do casual, but Rafe…” You sighed and stepped aside to put distance between the two of you. “Rafe, I’m a relationship type of girl; I like— I need commitment.” You explained. Rafe scoffed and shook his head, following you in the direction where you had walked off. “What is this? Some type of ultimatum? Now what? You’re trapping me in a relationship?” He spat, and you frowned at his words.

“No, I’m doing the opposite! Rafe, I want commitment; I want an actual relationship, and I am completely aware that that is the last thing you want, which is why I don’t think we should see each other anymore,” You reasoned, growing frightened as the rage in his eyes was peeking through. “So what? You’re breaking up with me?” He gritted out, walking towards you, but you shook your head and walked further from him. “No, to break up with you meant we were in a relationship. You made it perfectly clear to me and to everyone that we weren’t,” The anger went quiet on his face, confusion covering it once more. “Nothing but a pastime— purely physical,” You sighed, reciting the words he thought you did not hear him say. You hear his heavy sigh, and an excuse was ready to be uttered from his lips. “I don’t wanna be your hobby anymore,”

You walked off and heard him follow you towards the front door. “Baby, no— I,” You shook your head and felt proud of yourself as his little endearment did not waver your judgment. Continuing to open the door and motioned for him to leave. “I’ll see you around, Rafe,” You tried to smile and gently pushed him out of your home, out of your life.

Two days passed since your last encounter with Rafe, and you finally decided to leave the solace of your home and venture to… anywhere. You knew you could not go about the country club for a round of tennis, knowing Rafe often frequents there for a round of golf. And you could not as well accept the invitation of Weezy and Sarah to hang out in their home. So you headed to the beach, to a cafe that had an incomparable view of the ocean.

You were sitting by the window, your gaze shifting between the book you had brought and the crash of waves. Your quiet and focus were disrupted by the sound of a chair scraping and a presence appearing beside you. “That’s a good book,” You turned to your right in confusion, only to be met with blue eyes and a charming smirk on a familiar face. “You haven’t read, let alone heard of this book, Rafe,” you sighed, scooting further from him to keep your distance.

Rafe clenched his jaw as he felt you inch further from him. Gathering your things to leave. “How long are you gonna keep up with this, huh? Come on, you may not want casual, but you cannot lie and say you don’t want me as well,” Rafe followed you out as you hurriedly walked away from him. You sighed and shook your head, mumbling “Wanted,” as a correction for Rafe’s statement. “What?” He asked and took hold of your hand as you started to walk off once more. “Wanted. It’s in the past; I no longer want casual, and I no longer want you. Just leave this be, Rafe.” You tried to act civil, and respectful. Trying to maintain civility and not burn a bridge that, in all honesty, you would very much like to keep.

You feel his hold on your hand tighten slightly and see the rage in his eye, trying hard to be suppressed. “You have tens of girls waiting to be your next casualty, Rafe. Let’s leave this be… it has run its course. I don’t want meaningless hookups, and it’s clear that that is all you could give me.” Rafe’s jaw clenched as the truth slipped from your lips. “Bye, Rafe,” You said once more and started to walk away from him. “What do I have to do for us to go back to the way it was?” He called after a while; you wanted to groan as he followed you once more. “Come on, baby. I’ll give you a ride home, and we can talk about it… please,” You were starting to grow frustrated as his hands placed themselves on your waist again; it was shameful that it quickly brought back the need in you.

“No, I’ll walk. And Rafe…you can’t have to do anything for us to go back to the way that it was— I don’t want to go back to the way that it was. I have explained it to you thrice now. I don’t want casual!” You were practically screaming, and you hated that you lost composure. You wanted to go about this whole situation maturely, but Rafe was a test of your patience. “God, you’re so hot when you’re angry.” Was all he said, a teasing twinkle in his eyes and a smirk returned to his lips. You scoffed and rolled your eyes, turning away from him as you were now desperate to leave. But Rafe never relinquished his hold of you, only pulling you close and smashed your lips. You kept your jaw clenched as he eagerly tried to solicit a reaction from you— kissed you fervently as he was desperate that you would reciprocate his kiss. You hear him groan and let out a frustrated sigh as he parted for air. “Enough, Rafe. It’s done; we’re through with this.” You sternly said and wiped your lips of him.

A week has passed since Rafe kissed you. And you would admit, you were feeling withdrawals. You were missing him. Missing the way he held you close in sleep, with him burying his face in the crook of your neck or in your hair, and the way his arms would wrap around you so tightly yet so comfortingly. You missed how he would kiss your lips first thing in the morning and last thing in the night. You missed how he would bring pints you ice cream after taking Weezy to the ice cream parlor. You missed how he made you feel wanted— how he made you feel like you were the only one to bring him such blinding pleasure when you laid. You missed how you thought that you were made for him and how he was made for you. You missed Rafe. But not wholly enough to settle to be one of his girls once more.

You were having a rare family dinner, and your parents finally came back from their trip and decided to stay home for at least a week and it went by quickly, with this being their last night and them flying off first thing tomorrow morning. You tried not to appear sullen— to actually enjoy their company, but it was difficult as Rafe was the constant thought in your head. You were seated in the dining room, your parents discussing their next trips and asked about your recent venture to New York, when the doorbell rang. You oddly felt your heart spike as you heard shuffling when your maid went to see who the visitor was. You licked your lips as you heard the far-off sound of Rafe calling for you, your maid entering the dining room and whispering that he came here for you. You excused yourself from your parents and hastily went to the front door, horrid to see the state Rafe was in.

His eyes were bloodshot, and his form more rigid. There was a thing sheen of sweat on his forehead, and he smelt of booze, and your eyes did not miss the smidge of white powder on the side of his nose. He was fucking high.

“Hi, baby… you look so pretty,” He slurred as he stumbled closer to you. You were mortified that he could be seen by your parents, especially in such a state. “Oh, you’re wearing one… one of those going out dresses,” he mumbled again, his hand going to your waist and feeling the fabric of your dress. “Are you on a fucking date? What? You fucking replaced me already, huh? Is that it?” He was no longer mumbling; his mellow state turned to rage, and you looked back down the hall, fearing your parents heard. “Rafe, shh… my parents are here; they cannot see you like this.” You tried to push him out, but he resisted, now more determined to step foot further into your house. “Like what? Are you ashamed of me? Is that why you ended it?” You stared up at him with him with a deep frown. You hear your parents call for you, and you feel your stomach twist in fear.

You weighed your options; you could not let your parents see Rafe, but you could not push him out of your home and leave him in such a state. So you had no choice but to guide him towards your room once more. “Hm… I knew you couldn’t resist me. I missed you so much; I missed the way you would scr—“ You shushed him and made him sit on your bed, “I’ll be back— I still have dinner with my parents.” You said and hoped your mother and father would not grow suspicious of your absence.

Your emotions were mixed as Rafe wrapped his strong arms around your waist as you stood before him. He nuzzled his face on your torso and hummed in satisfaction. “I missed you, baby… tell me you missed me too,” He mumbled against your frame. You tried to push him away, but he would only whine and hold you tighter. You had the faintest clue on how to handle him in a drunken and high state— he never was neither of those things whilst you two had your arrangements. “Rafe, please, my parents are getting suspicious. I’ll come back in a while.” You looked down at Rafe, who looked up to you with such vulnerability in his eyes that you had never seen. “I promise I’ll be back,” you sighed and kissed his cheek as a reassurance. Rafe finally relinquished his hold, and you ran back to the dining room and prayed your parents wouldn’t ask too many questions.

Dinner somehow lasted for hours. Your parents were insistent on doing some bonding after many months away, playing board games, and even watching one of your favorite childhood movies. It was nice, you admit, to spend more time with your parents, but the thought of Rafe trying to sober up in your room and that he might be caught caused you to shrink in fear and panic.

It was nearing midnight when you finally returned to your room, and you saw Rafe newly showered and waiting for you by the foot of your bed. “Do you want water?” You asked as you saw that he had sobered up. “No, I’m fine,” He said, but he could not meet your eyes. There was a moment of tense and awkward silence between the two of you. “You should… you should probably go,” You sighed and moved to the other side of your room to remove the earrings you adorned.

Rafe did not utter a word, and you bit your lip as you turned to him. “Why?” He asked after a quiet moment. “Why did you end it?” He asked, and you felt exhaustion wash over you. “Rafe, I told you, I realized I don’t want casual, and that is all you are capable of. I’m not going to force myself and my wish for commitment upon you.” Rafe shook his head, “No. You were perfectly fine with our arrangement— what the fuck changed?” You licked your lips and thought twice if you should share with him your moment of realization. “I went to your party.” You stated and took your seat next to him. You saw from the side of your eye that Rafe had a frown on his face as he tried to take hold of your hand. “I went to your party and saw you making out with another girl… and there I realized that I can’t be casual. I can’t be the chill girl who settles for sharing someone they really like.”

“You really like me?” Rafe asked, ignoring all your other statements. You couldn’t help but laugh as a boyish grin spread across his lips. “Liked, is the key word here,” You say with a small smile, but the grin on his lips faltered.

“I don’t want casual.” Rafe suddenly announced and humorlessly laughed with a shake of your head. “You’re just saying that because you want us to fuck again,” There was a sting in your heart as you said the words. “No,” He denied, and you shook your head, standing up to put distance between the two of you. “Can you fucking stop walking away from me!” He gritted out and pulled you to sit beside him once more. “I never saw this as casual, okay?” You scoffed at his lie. “It’s true!” He defended, “Rafe, I heard you with your friends— you told me on three occasions what we are. I saw you making out with a girl! You saw me as nothing but casual!”

“I don’t think you know what casual really is,” Rafe sighed and cupped your cheek; you tried to shift his hold, but you grew weak as you missed the way his large, calloused palm cupped your cheek. “If we were just casual, I wouldn’t have spent every moment of my free time with you. I wouldn’t be staying with you after we had sex and hold you ‘till we fall asleep. If we were casual, I wouldn’t attempt to cook you breakfast or go with you to those bookstores for hours just to hold the things you wanted to buy… I wouldn’t have told you about my issues with my dad, let alone let you meet my family! Baby, it was never casual.” You chewed on your lips as you felt your heart flutter, but your mind was battling with it. “You were kissing another girl— you bragged to your friends that I was nothing but a pastime.”

“Those were mistakes. Topper was giving me a hard time— kept teasing me of how whipped I was with you and… I just wasn’t ready to admit it,” You bit your tongue as you felt the want to let a small smile slip your lips. “And at the party?” You instead asked, reminding yourself of the reason why you had the epiphany that you and Rafe could not work out. “It was a bigger mistake,” Rafe sighed, and you feel his thumb caressing your cheek, straying to touch your lips. “But it only made me realize more clearly that all I want to kiss and hold— the only one I want is you,” You leaned in closer to his touch. Ignoring the fact that your friends would be dismayed by your actions because you faltered by his words and his touch. “Do you believe me?” He asked as his face was inching closer to yours. You could not utter a word, but instead, you just moved to kiss his lips that you had desperately missed.

“Rafe,” You mewled as his lips moved to your neck and his hand gripped your bosom. “You missed me, haven’t you, baby? Admit it, pretty girl,” Rafe hummed and nipped your skin but quickly soothed it with his tongue. You feel his ringed hand grips your thigh, his hand trailing up higher and higher. “Say it, pretty baby, tell me how much you’ve missed me,” Rafe practically growled. “Oh god, I missed you— so much,” You finally uttered and moved to straddle and push him down on the bed. You heard Rafe chuckle as it was your turn to pepper kisses on his neck. You feel his strong hands grip the flesh of your ass, and he guides you to grind upon him. “Let me prove to you that you’re the only one I want— will ever want, for that matter.” You gasped as Rafe barbarically ripped off your dress. “Rafe, that was couture,” You distractedly said as the fine dress was torn. “Baby, I don’t fucking care, I’ll buy you a new one.” He said and caught your lips as his hands fondled your exposed breasts, and your fingers tugged at the hem of his shirt.

Your hands trailed the skin of his exposed chest, feeling the contours of his impressive physique, and your hands hesitated and hovered over his trousers. You looked Rafe into his blue eyes, “All yours, baby, I’m all fucking yours,” He growled and harshly kissed your lips as your hand slipped into his trousers and grasped his length that was already hard and throbbing. Rafe had no patience and slipped off his pants himself, smirking as you marveled at his length and your mouth practically salivated at the sight of him.

“Tell me what you want, baby. Use your words,” Rafe whispered and nipped the lobe of your ear, making you whimper. “You… I want you,” You sighed as his fingers played with the sensitive buds of your breast. “Hm… what else?” Rafe urged, wanting to hear you foul and lewd— wanting you to utter your desires. “I… want… I want to suck you off and then fuck me after,” You whispered, staring into once clear blue eyes that now turned dark with lust and want. You gasped as Rafe altered your position. Him lying on your bed with your cunt hovering over his face. His hands guide you to lower yourself for your sex to meet his lips and your lips to meet his length.

You could not hold in the moan as his hands forced you to shift all of your weight atop him, and his hand gripped your hair whilst your tongue traced the length of his pulsating member. “Rafe… oh fuck,” You cried as his tongue darted in and out of you, and you finally gathered the courage to take him into your mouth. You had difficulty before; you had quite a sensitive gag reflex, and Rafe’s massive length tested that. “Such a good girl taking me in the pretty mouth… so fucking good, baby.” Rafe praised against your cunt and granted as your cunt grounded itself on his face in search of further friction. Rafe felt the back of your throat squeeze him, and he feared he might spill himself in your mouth; that could not be. He needed to feel you around him before he could let himself feel such pleasurable release.

You tried to catch your breath as Rafe repositioned you once more, you straddling him again. You buried your head in the crook of his neck as you sank down on his length. You hear Rafe wince in pleasure and pain as you sink into his cock and as you bit down on his shoulder blade. “So fucking tight… all fucking mine,” Rafe gritted as he was finally fully sheathed into you. “Rafe,” You called as you felt tears threatening to spill at the sensation of him being buried deep inside. “This is what you wanted, huh? You wanted to be fucked by me— only me,” You mindlessly nod your head as you feel him brush over a spot that muddle your mind and made your senses only feel pleasure. Rafe buried his face between your heaving chest and inhaled the scent of you deeply. Your hands scratched his back, making tingles reach the bottom of his spine, spurring him closer to climax.

And though Rafe was desperate for release— he was addicted to the feel of your clinging and clenching around him, to the sweet moans that spewed out of your plump lips, and the tears of pleasure that cascaded down your cheeks. He wanted to savor you in such a state for a few moments more, even if it meant he denied himself the pleasure he had been seeking for the past two weeks. “Rafe… I’m— fuck, Ra…” You could not even finish or properly word out your sentence as pleasure consumed you. “Fucking hell,” Rafe gritted and tilted his head back as he felt your release trigger his own.

You breathed heavily as you waited for him to spill himself inside you. Trying to compose your mind and control your breathing. You took his face between your hands, looking deeply into his eyes. “Still casual?” You breathlessly asked. Rafe shook his head and gripped your waist tightly. “Never casual.”

Thank you guys for the support on "Casual" <3

@zulema222 @toriiss @chalottesstuff @maybankslover @pet1t3 @proactivetypaperson @sublimepenguinpeach-blog @not-neverland06 @jhbfv @cumquack @silkylovey @julczimozart @honeybunniesoobin @2faced-angel @exhaustedbutelated @ma-yangg @arinadixin @justagirlinherownworld @bambieyesruind @harryedwardstyles27 @nunya696969698 @angelsforesther @justheretoreadthestories @avocados-fics @imawhoreforrenandriddle

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fluentmoviequoter · 3 months

Text

We've Got a Problem

Requested Here!

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!fiancée!reader

Summary: When you get arrested on Tim's day off, you have to call someone to get you out of jail. Tim doesn't answer when you call, but when he finds out what happened, he makes it a bigger problem.

Warnings: grumpy!Tim, fluff, mentions of homicide and drug trafficking; reader doesn't commit any crimes, so misunderstanding?

Word Count: 1.1k+ words

Picture from Pinterest

You can't decide what's funnier: that you are in police custody, that the arresting officers refused to believe that you are Tim Bradford's significant other, or that Tim isn't answering his phone.

When you switch tactics to call Wesley Evers instead of Tim, you decide that the last option is the funniest part of this ordeal.

"Hey," Wesley answers.

"This isn't a personal call," you begin with a chuckle. "Would you believe me if I said I'm currently being detained at LAPD Mid-Wilshire division on suspicion of a triple homicide and drug possession?"

"I really hope for Tim's sake you're joking."

"I'm not. I need a lawyer, Wesley. But I also need to ask you to find Tim to get me out. No one here will believe that he's my fiancé and he's not answering my calls."

"Can't imagine why they're so sure he's single. I'll get him down there and ask for the evidence. We'll get this thrown out, don't worry."

"I'll stop worrying when I'm out of here. Thank you, Wesley."

“Don’t hang up, I’m patching Tim in.”

“What do you want, Wesley?” Tim asks when the line connects.

“I want to know why you answer for him but not for me,” you interject.

Tim says your name before asking, “Where are you?”

“Jail,” you and Wesley answer together.

“What? Which station?”

“That’s your question?” Wesley replies. "Not what she did?"

“Your station,” you answer. “And I’d like to go home.”

“I’m on my way. Wesley, talk to me.”

“They’ve got her on suspicion of homicide and drug trafficking. Angela sent me part of the case file and it seems like you fit the physical description of the suspect, but that’s it. I have no doubt we can get this thrown out by the end of the day.”

“Tim, I’m sorry,” you offer. “I know it’s your day off.”

“At least it’s a good story,” he grumbles.

“Tim, I may have told a few cops that I’m your fiancée. They didn’t believe me, but I- I’m sorry for telling them.”

“Fantastic. I’m hanging up, I’ll be inside in a minute.”

“How mad is he really?” Wesley asks.

“I don’t think I want to know. Maybe I should’ve just asked you to come.”

“Good luck.”

✯✯✯✯✯

Tim yells your name when he walks into the holding area. He looks at you as you stand, walking to the cell door as another officer unlocks it.

“I’m really sorry,” you whisper as you step out.

“Later,” Tim answers, gesturing for you to follow him.

You walk behind Tim and the officer, waiting by Tim’s side as he completes paperwork.

“And what’s your relationship?” the officer behind the desk asks.

“I’m her fiancé,” Tim answers.

The officer raises his eyebrows but nods as he slides a paper to Tim. Tim carries the paper in one hand, raising his other arm to direct you into a nearby office.

“Sergeant Grey, a word?” Tim asks.

“Sure. Who’s your friend?”

You say your name, shaking Sergeant Grey’s hand.

“My fiancée. Celina and Nolan just booked her on suspicion for Lopez’s case.”

Sergeant Grey presses his lips together but fails to hide his smile as he begins laughing, leaning backward while he wipes an amused tear from his eye.

“Let me guess, you told them that you’re with Bradford and they didn’t believe you.”

“Uh, exactly,” you answer, surprised at how quickly he determined what happened.

“I’ll talk to Nolan,” Grey promises.

“I can do it,” Tim responds.

“No, Bradford, I’ll handle it. It won’t happen again.”

“It better not, or I’ll intervene.”

“I’m sorry,” Grey tells you. “The charges won’t be filed, so you’re not going to be impacted other than the inconvenience this afternoon. I apologize on behalf of the entire department.”

“It’s not a problem,” you answer softly.

“It is a problem,” Tim says before exiting the office. “Nolan!”

“Tim,” you call, rushing out after him. “What’re you doing? They didn’t even believe me about you.”

“Not the biggest problem. Nolan!”

“Uh, yes?” Nolan asks, glancing over Tim’s shoulder at you.

“You arrested my fiancée on a completely baseless allegation. Because she looks a bit like a suspect in a huge case. That is not good police work, that’s being lazy and making connections where there are none.”

“I-“

“Unless you’re about to apologize, stop talking. Care to explain why you heard my name and didn’t do anything?”

“She claimed to be your fiancée. What was I supposed to do, just believe who I thought was a suspect in numerous felony cases?”

“Doesn’t sound like an apology.”

“What are you so mad about? I did my job.”

“You did what you think your job is. As a TO, it is on you to make sure Celina is prepared to do her job without you. Bringing people in because they fit what is possibly the most generic physical description ever is not being a good officer.”

“This doesn’t sound like letting me handle it,” Grey says, stepping out of his office.

Tim clenches his jaw before pointing at Nolan. “For the record, she is my fiancée and I will not forget this.”

“You have a fiancée?” Nyla asks as she stops in the middle of the bullpen. “Wait, are you the one who got brought in for Angela’s felonies? The one who called Wesley?”

“Yeah,” you answer, supplying your name as you introduce yourself.

“Oh, this story needs to be told.”

“Don’t,” Tim warns.

Nyla pulls her phone from her pocket, smiling as she types. “Too late.”

“So much for my day off,” Tim grumbles.

“I got arrested today, and you had a long day?” you ask.

“We’re leaving.”

Tim leads you to his truck, sighing as he sits back in the driver’s seat.

“Tim-“

“Don’t apologize again. I’m not mad at you, for anything. Just… this is so stupid,” Tim concludes, smiling as he laughs.

“You’re telling me. Although Nolan and Juarez got a good laugh out of the idea of you having a fiancée.”

“I don’t think that’s funny,” Tim responds. “I think I just got very lucky.”

You smile, leaning across the console to kiss Tim.

“Excuse me, you’re parked in a tow-away zone. Tim?” an officer asks through the open window. She gasps before asking, “Is this your fiancèe?”

“Bye, Chen.”

Tim pulls out before she can say anything else, and you laugh at his dramatic sigh.

“Can you stay out of trouble for the rest of my day off?” he asks.

“I may need some incentive.”

“Then spend it with me. Not calling Wesley Evers from a jail cell.”

“Deal.”

You take Tim’s hand and smile. He brushes his thumb over your knuckles, keeping you close as he drives to his house.

"Wait, we should take a picture," Tim says after parking in his driveway.

"For what?"

"To commemorate your first arrest."

You roll your eyes but smile anyway. Tim takes the picture, and when he looks down to see how it turned out, you cup his face in your hands and kiss him. While he's thoroughly distracted, you try to grab his phone, but he moves it before pulling you closer. Maybe getting arrested and letting Tim's coworkers know he's engaged wasn't all bad.

#tim bradford x reader #tim bradford imagine #tim bradford fluff #tim bradford #tim bradford the rookie #the rookie #requests #fem!reader #hanna writes✯

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starkidmunson · 5 months

Text

glitter & crimson

It’s both exciting and terrifying to be in Chicago when they arrive Thursday afternoon. This is, unfortunately, very often as close to hometown shows as the band gets to these days. They have the night off, before the show tomorrow, when the band will find out if Steve and his friends actually show up to the gig or not. Despite not having a show, the band doesn’t get the whole day off; Paige had booked a few radio interviews before the gig to drum up attention.

He should have seen it coming when the radio host brought up the TikTok exchange. “So, be honest, have you guys coordinated with Harrington and his friends to get him to your show tomorrow?”

“Not really. Our manager sent info and Steve gave it a thumbs up, but that’s really been it? But we’ve been busy with shows almost every night, and he’s had a lot of travel games the last few days, so we’ll have to wait and see if he’s able to make it out.” Jeff takes over the answer with ease, probably having predicted the attention.

“Did you really not recognize him, Eddie?” The host goads and Eddie lets himself chuckle.

“It may sound kind of ridiculous, but the genuine answer is yeah. I haven’t seen him in, like, 6 years. And, believe it or not, we didn’t exactly run in the same crowds. We knew of one another, I think, but there were hundreds of kids in our school.” Eddie always defaults to the truth in interviews; it’s the simplest route and leaves less room for people to poke holes in the narrative if he’s just honest.

“Will you guys be going to the Blackhawks game on Saturday?”

“We’ll just have to wait and see, man,” Gareth laughs, and just as quickly as the segment started, it’s over with their own latest hit playing them out of the studio.

A Thursday night off in the city wasn’t the most exciting thing in the world, but the band collectively made a trip to the bar closest to their hotel for wings and a few drinks. One of the guys must have posted something on social media about being out because as Eddie’s walking into his hotel, he happens to check his TikTok to find a message waiting for him.

harrington94 should I take it personally that you guys went out in my town and didn’t ask for recs or anything?

eddiecc I honestly figured you’d be too busy and didn’t want to bother you.

harrington94 never too busy to show a friend around town. But I do appreciate having a down day, so thanks.

Eddie wasn’t entirely sure how to answer as he processed Steve’s message. Friends? Is that what they were? Could they even really consider one another that? He ultimately decided not to think too much of it, in favor of keeping the conversation going. Maybe the more they talked, the less awkward the next two nights would be.

eddiecc I totally get it if you want to skip the show in favor of another down day.

harrington94 no backing out on me now, Munson. I’ve finally got the cool card with the Party. We’ll be there, no doubt.

Eddie feels a little smile creep over his face and his ears feel a little warm, but before he can answer that, text bubbles pop up again. He waits to see what else Steve is going to say before he does something embarrassing.

harrington94 now feels like a safe time to confess that I haven’t really listened to much of your music, though, so don’t think I’m rude if I’m not headbanging along with the boys.

That was more like the interaction Eddie had expected from their TikTok exchange. He never expected Steve to know their music and was shocked he even knew their band name when his response had been posted on TikTok.

eddiecc I honestly cannot exactly say I’m surprised to hear this. You never exactly struck me as a headbanger, anyway.

harrington94 i feel like that’s some kind of thinly veiled insult that I’m missing, but you’re not wrong.

The text bubbles appear again, and Eddie waits for him to finish the thought rather than respond.

harrington94 why don’t you text me instead? It feels easier than paying attention to this app I don’t really know how to use.

Eddie was quick to copy the number Steve sent and shoot off a text, weirdly enjoying the exchange the two were having and not ready to call it a night just yet.

__________

A particularly ridiculous meme from Eddie had Steve snorting from his spot lounging across the sofa. The next thing he knew, a pillow was flying at his face. He was able to react quickly enough to block it with his arm, dropping the phone to his chest, before glaring at Robin. She was watching him from the recliner across the living room.

“What the fuck?” He asks, tossing the pillow back in her general direction, more gently than she’d tossed it his way.

“You’re grinning at your phone like you’re setting up a hot date. Please don’t tell me you’re talking to Heidi again.” Robin pleads dramatically, twisting her body in the chair to face him.

“I’m not grinning at my phone, shut up.” He grumbles, ignoring how hot his neck feels as he blushes. Instead, he picks his phone back up to finish the thought he’d been typing before he’d been interrupted. “I’m just texting with Eddie, that’s all.”

Robin’s eyes widened immediately, and she sprung from the recliner toward the sofa. “Give me your phone!” She demands, grunting as she fell face first into the sofa, missing Steve by an inch. He manuveres away from her without looking up from his phone, making his way down the hall to his room. “Steve, come on!”

“It’s not a big deal! We’re just talking! It’s fine!” He insists, tucking the phone into his back pocket as he turns into his bedroom.

But maybe it was a big deal? Steve couldn’t tell; this was the part he was never really good at. He had a tendency to miss signs everyone else thought were obvious, and he didn’t want to risk making things weird with Eddie if Robin thought he was missing something that wasn’t actually there. The texts with Eddie had shifted from Steve confessing his knowledge of Corroded Coffin was strictly limited to whatever the Party played in the car when he drove them places, to Eddie confessing he knew next to nothing about hockey. It seemed to level the playing field between the two of them, and at least made Steve feel more at ease about the time they’d be spending together between the concert and the game.

When Steve had asked how the tour was going so far, Eddie had shared a link to an instagram, where fans were finding something to meme from each night of the shows. To which Jeff and Gareth were making memes in response, picking on one another in a way that felt like with some of his teammates. The message that had prompted the most reaction from Steve was the last thing Eddie had sent before Robin threw the pillow; a meme of Eddie looking confused, which Jeff had edited “So he’s not Joe Jonas?” over his head.

In his room, Steve leans over to pick up his charger, but he feels his phone lift free from his pocket. “Hey!” He calls after Robin, who’s sprinting down the hallway, laughing like the menace she is.

“I just want to see what you’re talking about!” Robin says, unlocking his phone. He’s just about to catch up to her, as she slides on her socks into her bedroom, closing the door behind her, right in his face.

“You’re being a child, Robs, c’mon. Give me my phone back.” He sighs, resting his forehead against the door. He jiggles the handle, but as he’d guessed, she’d locked it behind her.

“Do you like him?” She asks through the door, and he sighs again.

“I don’t know,” He answers, honestly and exhaustedly. “I don’t even know him, you know? We weren’t friends, it’s not like I could tell you anything about him other than Tommy used to buy weed from him and he would stand on tables and yell in the cafeteria.”

There’s a long silence before Robin opens the door, meeting Steve with a little smile. She shoves the phone back into his chest and pats his hand when he takes it from her. “I think this could be good for you. That this could be good for you.”

“I’m trying not to read too hard into it.” Steve mumbles, reaching up to run his fingers through his hair nervously. He glances back down at the screen, to see what while Robin had taken the phone, Eddie had sent another text.

Eddie: How were your games? Are you doing anything special for your day off?

It makes something twist in his chest, that Eddie even cares, and he doesn’t quite know why. It must show on his face, some part of how he’s feeling, because Robin just smiles and nods. Maybe she knows how he feels, part of their weird unspoken telepathy, because she walks further into her room and pats the edge of her bed as she goes.

“Are you going to let me paint your nails for the concert?” She asks. Everything inside of Steve appreciates how she always knows when to give him space to try and figure his shit out on his own.

“Obviously.” He laughs softly, following her into the bedroom to sit on her bed and watch her move around collecting things to paint his nails.

~~~

The following day, Steve spends more time than he would like to admit picking out an outfit to wear to the concert. He can hear the Party starting to get antsy in the living room, even though they’d still be plenty early if they left right now, so he decides to just roll with the white shirt and fitted khakis he’d dressed himself in several hours ago before he started overthinking his choices. He finished the outfit off with a black zip-up fleece and black and white Nikes.

A final check of his hair had him walking out of his room and into the living room, where chaos erupted.

“It’s about time!” Dustin exclaims, practically bouncing up and down with excitement on the sofa.

“It took you that long to come out looking like that?” Mike asks, but Max just snorts and shoves his shoulder.

“Let’s just go.” Steve rolls his eyes, glancing over at Robin who jingles car keys she’s already holding, before leading the way out of the apartment.

In the car, he shoots Eddie a quick text to let him know they’re on the way. Eddie’s quick to reply, giving the message a thumbs-up reaction. Unbelievably, the Party somehow manages to get even louder than usual once they were inside, and it doesn’t take long for a security guard to find them. They’re led through the back tunnels of Wintrust Arena, and Steve gets a little nostalgic for playing hockey in college. He’s snapped out of it when a girl passes out their pass lanyards and gives each of the Party a voucher for free drinks and snacks.

“This is too much, really,” Steve protests as she hands him the voucher, but Paige insists with a kind smile.

“We get this kind of stuff from every venue and rarely get to use it to its full extent. The guys want to do this for you and your friends, just enjoy it.”

The Party loads up on treats at the nearest food station, while Steve and Robin grab beers with Paige. As she collects her drink, Paige hands Steve a palm-sized bag of earplugs. He frowns at them, which makes her laugh.

“Eddie said this isn't really your usual kind of scene, and these shows can get loud,” she taps her own ears to show she has similar earplugs in. “Should also help prevent headaches or anything else that might keep you off the ice tomorrow.”

“Please, he’s too stubborn to stay off the ice. The amount of migraines he’s played through is outrageous,” Dustin bounds back into the conversation, earning a chuckle from Robin. Steve throws his arm around the younger boy’s shoulders, pulling him just a little too close and too tight. Dustin exaggerates choking noises, flailing around and making a scene, but Steve refuses to let up.

_____

There’s more anxiety than usual thrumming through Eddie as he and Jeff make their way through the arena, to where Paige had said she’d take Steve and his friends for snacks. As they walk up on the group, however, Steve quickly pulls a younger boy with a head full of curls into a headlock. He lets the scene continue for a moment before he nudges Jeff.

“At what point fo you think we should intervene?” He asks with a smile, making Jeff chuckle. Steve, however, freezes, then shoves Dustin away. He turns to give Eddie a sheepish smile, and Eddie can’t help but raise an eyebrow.

Steve lets out a huff of a laugh, running his fingers through his hair, shrugging and tipping his head in the boy’s direction. “This is Dustin. He’s like my little brother. I’m allowed to pick on him when he’s being a shithead.” Dustin nudges his elbow into Steve’s gut, who’s quick to smack his arm in response. Before Eddie can stop himself, he’s twisting a curl around his finger and biting back a grin. He does, however, make a conscious effort to not chew on his hair. He knows he’d never hear the end of it, fawning over Steve Harrington after a whole 10 seconds.

Eddie offers a hand out to Dustin, hoping Jeff and Paige would let his little tells fly under the radar. Just this once, they seem to, as he greets the Party. “Hey man, I’m Eddie. Nice to meet you.”

“I know who you are, holy shit, man.” Dustin eventually fumbles through, shaking Eddie’s hand and grinning up at him.

Steve rattles off the introductions for each kid, like a proud mom, and Eddie greets each of them politely, but his eyes keep falling back on Steve. He catches his little smiles and the way he nudges different members of the Party, squeezes their shoulders, ruffles their hair. It’s gentle and sweet and it sends a warm feeling through Eddie’s chest. His smile softens as he watches their interactions. All too soon, Freak leans into the area they’ve gathered in and whistles.

“Shit, guys, we gotta go.” Jeff sighs, and Eddie pats his shoulder before he turns back to the group with a grin.

“Just hang with Paige and try not to get into too much trouble, we’ll get drinks after?” Eddie asks, looking at Steve, who smiles back and gives a little nod.

As Eddie runs to catch up with Jeff and Freak, he wonders exactly what he’s gotten himself into here.

____

It’s more fun than Steve expects, the concert. The excitement of watching the show from the suite quickly bores the Party, as they realize it’s the same as watching hockey games from a guest box. They eat their snacks and drink some through the openers, but during the break before Corroded Coffin, Lucas and Dustin drag Steve around to the side stage. Robin promises to stay with the others, and reminds Steve to wear the earplugs.

He’s grateful Paige had slipped them to him as they get beside the stage and he realizes just how loud the crowd is when the lights go down. From where they’re standing sidestage, he can see Eddie, Jeff, Gareth and Freak in a little huddle. They bounce around with their arms around each others backs, before yelling something Steve can’t quite make out. They’re handed their instruments by the crew. As they’re taking the stage, Eddie walks up in their direction and pokes his tongue out at them, before ripping into a guitar riff to make his entrance.

Despite himself, Steve finds his head bobbing along to the drum beat, and even sings along to the songs he recognizes. It’s hard to take his eyes off Eddie through the whole production. He’s a little ball of energy, bounding around from one end of the stage to the other, bantering with the other guys in the band and drawing the fans into his chaos during talking breaks. During a drum solo, Eddie climbs onto the front of the kit and holds his guitar up in the air over his head. Steve watches, mesmerized, as Eddie holds his gaze for a moment that feels like an eternity but is probably only a few seconds. Eddie winks at Steve, then, before he leaps back into yet another riff. It shouldn’t have had so much of an impact, but Steve finds it kind of takes his breath away.

It’s over before long, and Paige is quick to guide Steve and the boys back to the club box. He smiles as they walk behind Dustin and Lucas, gushing over how great the show was. Back in the box, Steve and Paige agree to meet across the street at Fatpour. He charms his way into using the upstairs as a private room with a signature to the manager and flashes a smile and wave to the few people downstairs who seem to have recognized him.

The band makes a loud entrance as the Party works their way through appetizers, and Eddie is quick to find his way to Steve. “You seemed to have enjoyed yourself, was it more fun than you expected?” He asks around a grin.

“I never said I wasn’t going to have a good time,” Steve defended through a smile, making Eddie laugh and Steve thinks that might be the best sound he’d heard all night, despite having just seen the concert. Eddie glances around then, locking eyes with a bartender to get their attention.

“What’s your poison?” Eddie asks in the most cliche way, wiggling his eyebrows a little, but Steve shakes his head.

“Strictly on water tonight. Gotta get up early tomorrow.” He says, and Eddie softens and nods. Once their drinks are in front of them, he holds his glass up to Steve in a mock toast.

“To making it the fuck out of Hawkins?”

“Cheers to that.” Steve laughs, clanking their glasses together and taking a sip.

“Any reason you stayed in the Midwest?” Eddie asks, before he can stop himself. “Sorry, you don’t have to… you don’t owe me an explanation.”

“Nah, it’s… a few reasons. Couldn’t go too far without them, and most of ‘em followed me here, anyway. And then the chips fell and I ended up on the Blackhawks and there’s kind of no other team I’d rather play for.” Steve explains, leaning a little closer to Eddie with a smile. “Speaking of; are you ready for the game?”

Eddie can’t help but grin back at Steve and laugh a little. “You know, I honestly have no idea what I’m getting in to here. All I remember from watching games on TV is that it’s violent.”

“Not always.” Steve defends quickly, before showing a slight mercy. “It’s cold in there, because of the ice. You’ll want to wear layers.”

“Layers. Noted.” Eddie stores the information away for tomorrow, suddenly concerned he hadn’t even thought about an outfit for the game before the conversation.

As they talk, Robin appears with a basket of cheese curds but pulls it away as Eddie reaches to take one.

“What’s your favorite movie?” She asks, and Steve laughs and shakes his head at her.

“Is this a quiz? I’m not good at tests, I flunked out of senior year.” Eddie whines before he stops to think about it. “Uh, well. The answer you’d probably expect from me is Almost Famous, but it’s actually a close second to Dead Poets Society.”

She narrows her eyes at him but slides the basket in his direction. “I can’t tell if you picked either of those because you thought it was the answer I wanted, or because they’re actually your favorite, so I have to give you curds.”

“They’re actually my favorites!” Eddie laughs around a mouthful of cheese curds.

“Dead Poets is one of Robin’s favorites, too.” Steve offers, and Robin nods.

“Steve will tell you his favorite movie is Risky Business, because he thinks Tom Cruise is hot, but it’s actually Go Figure. You know, the Disney movie about the ice skater who joins her school’s hockey—” Robin is grinning until Steve clasps a hand over her mouth.

“Robin is incredibly annoying when she wants to be,” He grumbles, and Eddie can’t help but laugh at their antics.

“Well, now you’ve got my attention. If Go Figure isn’t your favorite movie, what is?” Eddie asks.

Steve thinks for a moment. “I think Back to the Future feels like a safe answer.” He shrugs, and Eddie glances at Robin to gauge her reaction. She seems to approve, as she gives Steve a soft smile, pats his back, then stands from their table.

“I’ll leave you two alone, I suppose.” She says, leaning close to both of them. “Behave, got it? No funny business before the game.”

Steve flushes and flounders a little, his mouth opening and closing a few times before he just huffs and takes a sip from his water. While Eddie feels his whole face get hot in a blush, he can’t help but laugh a little.

“Is there funny business we could have gotten up to?” He dares to ask, and it’s worth it just to watch the way Steve blushes and bites at his lip.

“Maybe. But I guess you’ve got to wait until after tomorrow’s game to find out.”

________________________________________________________

Wow! Thank you all so much for the overwhelming support you’ve shown this little idea I had! I might just keep this going as a series, with updates on Mondays (Tuesdays at the latest). This is also double the word count of part 1, oops, lol.

I'm going to try to tag everyone in the replies because I hit the character limit! Tumblr wouldn't take them all, so sorry to everyone I missed, I still love you and appreciate the support!

#steddie #steddie hockey au #steddie rockstar au #rockstar!eddie munson #hockey player!steve harrington #eddie munson #steve harrington #robin buckley #dustin henderson #corroded coffin #stranger things #starkidmunson writes #glitter & crimson

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lewdmommie · 1 year

Text

No Expectations

Summary: y/n now has to navigate new complex feelings with König she didn’t have before.

Jealouskönigxreader💗

🎀Warning🎀:18+NSFW, Rough sex, raw sex, oral sex, language, angst, size kink, praise/degradation etc

Word count: 4.k

(Comment, reblog and follow)

This is part 2 of One night stand

Part 3

“No.” Ghost doesn’t even bother looking up from whatever document he’s scribbling on.

“Please, I’ll do any other cruel and unusual punishment you have lined up for me.” You plead.

“You don’t get to argue the terms of your probation. König is who you’re training with, no questions asked.” He says through clenched teeth.

“Why can’t I just work with someone else. There’s plenty of people on base.” You reach over snagging a mint from the decorative bowl at the corner of his desk. His eyes follow your movements. It wasn’t like you to not get along with someone, everyone on base either loved you or felt indifferent. Of course there was a handful that weren’t the nicest because of your popularity but König wouldn’t fall into that category. “Why do you want to switch partners? Did something happen between you two?” His question makes your eyes widen remembering how König was balls deep inside you just a few nights ago. Luckily ghost's eyes are locked on the paperwork in front of him. You stand turning your back to him, hiding the hot flush that creeps onto your cheeks.

“It’s nothing like that.” You say with false confidence. The small crack in your voice catches his attention. What was this feeling at the pit of his stomach, a feeling that made his jaw tense and heart pound. He finally looks away from the paper, capturing your gaze with an intensity that makes goosebumps prickle at your skin. He rises to his feet, palms planted firmly on the surface of the desk. “Fine. I won’t pry…I don’t have any other expendable men.” He rasps.

“What about you? It’s just three hours and it’s after work hours. We both know you don’t have a life serg.” You chuckle. If you had X-ray vision you would see the irritated expression under the mask.

“I am your superior. That means I have actual work to do unlike you sorry excuses for soldiers.” He flips through the piles of paperwork.

“That isn’t very nice sergeant, you’ve got to be more pleasant in the workplace.” You tease walking around the office space, touching things as you go.

There is a tall bookcase in the corner that catches your eye. Thick spined books with elegant writing line the shelves. Along with a small cactus and tank figurines, a picture frame stands out. A beautiful brunette woman holding a baby wrapped in a tiny blue blanket , smiles at the camera in a dated looking room. A shadow cast behind you, turning around, you're faced with a huge vest covered chest. He takes the frame lifting it over your head to sit on the top shelf. He smells of gunpowder and a Smokey musk, your back bumps the case as he steps closer. Naturally your eyes close not sure what exactly you were waiting on to happen. His arm retracts holding a black leather covered book with silver embroidery.

“Who was that woman?” You exhale as he steps away walking back to his desk.

“No one.” He flips through the pages, nodding to himself as if he’d found what he was looking for.

“Who was that baby? I didn’t know you had a kid, that must mean you’re married…who would marry you serg you’re so serious all the time.” You plop your butt onto the desk. He shakes his head fighting the urge to add another week to your probation for sitting on his desk. His gaze sharpens.

“The child is not mine.” He says.

“Oh a scandal, who’s child is it? I can’t believe your wife would do that to you sergeant, need a hug?” You open your arms beckoning him forward.

“I am not married. Don’t you have toilets to clean. Get out.” He pushes your hip off his desk.

“We haven’t even come to an agreement yet!” You exclaim, feet hitting the ground.

“Fine. I will train with you just for today if it’ll get you out of my office.” He offers.

“The rest of the week.” You barter.

“Two days.” He responds.

“Four.” You fold your arms.

“Three. Final offer rookie.” He shakes his head.

“Fine, three days is better than one.”

“You’ll be the one to inform König you’re switching partners.” The computer keyboard clicks as he enters something into the database. At this point he had to be getting off to your embarrassment, if looks could kill he’d be a goner. Ghost didn’t tolerate taking the easy way out, if two people had issues on base they would be addressed and resolved quickly. He always said there wouldn’t be war within our army.

“I-fine i'll tell him.” You sigh knowing he wouldn’t budge.

“Good,now leave, I’m busy.” He waves you off without glancing up.

Three days. That should be enough time for things to cool down between you and König, you think, grabbing a lunch tray. The line moves steadily as the staff ladles today's lunch onto each plate.

You smile at the older lady behind the table, holding out your tray.

“y/n, I’ve got your lunch packed up right here for you.” She bends down grabbing a brown paper bag with your name scribbled on it. She nods apologetically, placing the bag on your plate, peanut butter and jelly again…yum.

“Y/n! Over here!” A cute brown skinned woman with luscious dreadlocks waves you over. Maya. You and Maya enlisted at the same time, basically going through the whole process together. Without her, you don’t know how long you would have lasted here. when you two found out you’d be stationed at the same base it felt like fate intended for you to stay with each other, She’s the entire reason you planned to reenlist. Unfortunately your closeness meant she could see right through you, so you had to find a way to keep her off your trail.

“Hey May thanks for holding my seat.” You sit across from her.

“No problem you’d do the same for me.” She jokes biting into her apple. You unroll the wrinkled paper bag that looked like it could have something illegal inside of it. You pull out a poorly wrapped peanut butter and jelly sandwich along with a juice box and an orange. Your nose scrunches at the thought of tasting sticky peanut butter and sickly sweet grape jelly again. You look longingly at Maya’s lunch, your stomach growls in envy.

“Peanut butter and jelly again I can’t believe ghost, do you want to trade lunches?” She pushes her tray towards you. You shake your head unwrapping the plastic and taking a bite of your sandwich.

“I like the pain.” You say in a playful tone.

“You’re such a freak.” She laughs rolling her eyes.

The mess hall echoed with chatter from various conversations, every table for lack of a better word, had their own cliques. It wasn’t like some cheesy highschool movie but everyone had their own friend groups they’d break off with during lunch. Guys like Ghost and König didn’t dine in the mess hall so when you see König leaned up against the wall watching you, it completely catches you off guard.

“What’s his deal?” Maya asks not even trying to hide the fact that she was staring back.

“We had a disagreement.” You sip your juice box averting your gaze from him.

“No way, you’ve been telling me how you two were getting along so well. Did something happen? I’ll kick his ass right now.” She says in a serious tone. König stood at 6ft 6inches tall with the body of a tank but Maya was statuesque at 5’11 inches tall with an extremely toned physique. He was strong but so is Maya, she trains with the men for fun. After long days of them making sexist jokes, She loved beating the shit out of them. She can squat 250+ pounds easily so you definitely don’t take her threat lightly.

“It wasn’t like that Maya, this one might be on me. I’ve been avoiding the issue instead of talking it out with him…” you trail biting the sandwich.

“Well then it sounds like you know what to do.” She touches your hand, nodding in his direction.

“Yeah…you’re right. I am a part of the special military forces. I’m not afraid of a conversation.” You shoot up ready to deliver the news of your new partnership with ghost.

Your legs wobble as you walk to the trash, throwing away your tray. You can feel his eyes follow your every move as you snake through the cafeteria full of people. He’s leaning against the wall with one leg, arms folded, peering down at you. His body language was reserved, there was an invisible wall stacked between you two.

“König I-“ you start.

“-We will not be speaking during work hours rookie.” He says coldly.

“König please I-“ he interrupts you again.

“Colonel König.”

“Colonel König. I need to talk to you about something.” You whisper.

“You’ll have to schedule an appointment during my office hours.” His voice is flat.

“You know what, fine, fuck this.” You storm off, fed up with his distance. His hand twitches fighting the urge to reach out and pull you back. Instead he watches as you slip further away from him. Truth is…he was scared. Scared that you’d reject him and that you’d felt everything that happened was just a mistake. He found himself pulling back before you could deliver the final blow. Your departure in the middle of the night showed him what he needed to know about your feelings for him. It was just a one night stand, nothing more…Right? If that was the case why was his chest tight at the idea that he’d just hurt you.

“You’re slow!” Ghost barks as your body hits the mat. You cough, holding your side. He stares down at you with impatient eyes, waiting for you to reset.

“Again.” He orders as you stand rubbing your ribs.

If he was holding back, you’d hate to feel his full power, he could toss you around like it was nothing. With your feet planted firmly on the ground, you step one foot back allowing more range for your dominant hand. Your fists are raised, just as König taught you, protecting your jaw. Ghost swings left punching the barrier of your forearms, it hurts, but your guard doesn’t break. You duck his right hook taking the advantage and hitting him with a quick body shot to the gut. He stumbles crashing into one of the wooden pillars in the training room. You advance keeping your guard up, to his surprise you rush him jabbing the hard material of his mask. One of your weak points was the inability to strike someone when they’re down. If he didn’t have military grade training, the mask would have shattered from the force of your blows. Before that can happen he attacks low, swiping your knees from under you. Your back crashes onto the mat, knocking the wind out of you. You wheeze from the impact trying to catch your breath. Ghost towers over you with both wrists locked in his iron grip. You can hear him breathing heavily, his chest pressing against your with every exhale. Your legs wrap around him in an attempt to get the upper hand, he doesn’t budge as you try to flip his body. He chuckles at your struggle lifting your arms above your head to show off his strength. “Give up.” He pants as you wiggle beneath him.

“That isn’t what you taught me now is it?” Your hips buck against his waist. A tiny whimper escapes his lips, his hand lets your wrist loose to replace it on your leg. His cock strains in the tight confines of his cargos, if not for the thick material, you’d have felt him poking your inner thigh. Utilizing your center gravity, you rock your body using his weight to roll completely over, landing on top of him. Your legs straddle his thighs. without thinking, his big hands grab your waist balancing you.

“Who was that woman in the picture?” He struggles under you, your knees tense, locking him in place. Now he quite literally couldn’t run from the question.

“No one.” He doesn’t budge.

“She must be important if you won’t talk about her.” You implore.

“Since when are we worried about each other's personal lives?” He relaxes, no longer fighting back.

“Whenever I bring it up, you get this pained look in your eye…like something changed you. Like a piece of you is still hurting.” Your voice softens. His heart thumps at your words, he can no longer look you in the eyes. He wanted to fight the urge to let you in, to have you truly know him. No one knew him and that’s the way he likes it . If no one gets attached, then no one would be put in danger because of him. He didn’t trust himself to protect the ones he cared for after what happened.

“She was my mother.” He says finally.

“Was? What happened to her?” You lean down to hear him better, your face inches from his.

“I couldn’t protect her.” his voice was barely a whisper. You both jump as the training room door creaks open.

“Sorry I’m late y/n-“ König freezes with a tense jaw and clenched fist. After the heated moment earlier he planned to apologize for his behavior at practice today. He had decided to conquer his fears and give you guys a real shot. He wanted to confess his true feelings today when you two had some alone time but things just changed. You scramble off of ghost’s lap standing to your feet clumsily. König takes a step back as you approach him.

“This is what I was trying to tell you earlier…me and ghost will be training together for the next three days…” you ramble.

“Right. Then I’ll just leave you two to do your ‘training’.” He backs into the doorway turning on his heels. He wanted to go back there and beat Sergeant Ghost’s face in, break every finger he laid on you. He wanted to throw you over his shoulder, take you back home and pound every ounce of anger he had into you. He wanted everyone to know you were his…but you weren’t and he had to accept that. He couldn’t stop you from exploring other options but he wouldn’t sit back and watch either. Ghost sits up watching the whole thing play out, he could see the anger seething off of König. He got the exact same feelings right before a mission, that sense of imminent danger. This was more than some silly fight between the two of you, he realized that now. He realized what you meant to König and now what you meant to him. His heart drops as he watches you run after König, he thinks about calling after you but chokes back the words.

“König please wait!” You yell running behind him. You grunt as he stops suddenly, making you slam into his back.

“What is there to talk about y/n? You don’t owe me anything.” He mutters.

“I know this sounds like bullshit but that wasn’t what it looked like.”

“You’re right it does sound like bullshit.” He says.

“I just needed a break from this…from us. Just for a few days.” You explain.

“You’ve made it painfully clear there is no us.” He snaps. His head shakes as if he wanted to say more but instead he walks away leaving you alone in the hall.

“How was your day” Maya asks, slipping on her purple bonnet.

“Horrible. May, do you think I’m a good person?” You ask, climbing in her bunk. She welcomes you with open arms, stroking your head gently. You nessel into her embrace, finding comfort in her touch. Maya always knew the right things to say, you could count on her to make you feel better after hard days.

“Of course I think you’re a good person y/n. What makes you ask something like that?” She strokes your hair, looking down at you with concerned eyes.

“I just needed to hear it.” she pulls you close, kissing your forehead.

“You know you can talk to me about anything.” She states seriously.

“I know.” You sigh.

“Well you’re one of the best people I’ve ever met.” She assures.

“Thank you may I love you.” You kiss her cheek before throwing your legs over the bunk and walking to your bed.

“I love you too weirdo, goodnight.” She rolls over pulling the cover up to her neck.

“Wider.” Ghost orders, slipping two fingers in your open mouth. You suck desperately, wiggling your ass in anticipation. A large warm hand pushes your thighs apart exposing your dripping slit, your back arches as they flick your beating bud. Who? You turn your body and behind you is a half lidded König looking back. His green eyes stare into your soul as he slides a thick finger inside you, pulling it out achingly slow before pumping it back inside again. Your gaze is snatched away by ghost and met with a stiff twitching cock. Clear pre-cum oozes from his flustered tip, using his thumb he gently opens your mouth, sliding his head over the plush of your lower lip. He hisses as you take him in fully, hollowing your cheeks to take him even deeper. You gasp as König stretches you with another finger, stroking the deepest parts of you. Wet squelching fills the space as your pussy drools with arousal. Saliva dribbles down your chin as your head bobs, swallowing as much of him as your body allowed. His head falls back as his tip is met with the back of your warm velvet throat. You gag, making your throat quiver around him, his hips rock sporadically , fingers tangled in your hair. “S’fucking good baby…that’s it you’re making me feel so good-“ Ghost whimpers, head lolling back.

“Ahhh uhn…” You groan, mouth full, as König runs the flat of his tongue up your split, licking away your slippery nectar. His tongue pets your stiff clit, sucking and licking every inch of your inner sex. His five O’clock shadow rubs against your sensitive lips as he pushes deeper, snaking his tongue inside your tight hole. Your jaw goes slack as he tastes you from the inside fucking you with his wriggling tongue.

“Focus on me.” Ghost growls tilting your face to meet his fuck drunk eyes. His hips move aggressively, pounding the back of your throat without mercy. He pulls out admiring the long glistening trail of spit connecting the two of you before thrusting back in.

“Are you ready to take me Prinzessin?(princess)” König calls, planting soft kisses down your back. You nod your head attempting to say yes but all he hears are small moans and gags. He lines himself between your plush thighs, his tip pushes past the barrier of soft skin. You can feel his dick pulsing so close to your needy cunt you begin to whine, you shake your ass hoping to inch him closer. “I’ll fuck you when I’m ready.” He grunts, stroking your inner thighs with his cock. Your womanhood is soaking wet at the idea that these two monsters were using your body to get off too. “Your thighs feel just as good as that pretty pussy between your legs” he moans fucking your thighs. Ghost pulls back, slapping the curved underside of his dick on your swollen blushed lips.

“Are you tired baby, do you want me to cum?” He teases rubbing his head over your smooth skin.

“She doesn’t deserve to cum yet sergeant.” König slams into you with one long stroke. Ghost follows suit, ramming the back of your throat and trapping your screams inside. König grips your waist holding you still as he absolutely rails you, your pussy flutters with each stroke. His curved dick kisses your sweet spot with every thrust, your walls clench around him when he pulls back. Your entrance squeezes his tip, trying to suck him deeper. With short frustrating thrusts, he fucks you using just the tip of his cock.

“You’re so greedy, you already have a cock in your mouth…and you’re telling me you want more?” He flicks his hips rutting deep inside you. His fingers dig into your hips so hard you knew it’d leave a bruise. They rock your body between them using every piece of you to make themselves cum. You hear an audible ‘pop’ as König uses his spit to lubricate his finger before teasing the only hole that wasn’t full. Slapping sounds fill the air as he pounds into you, massaging your tight little hole. Ghost starts moving faster, making tears fall down your cheeks from overstimulation.

“That slutty mouth is begging for my cum isn’t it?” He chokes, his dick spasming in your mouth.

He makes an inhuman noise as he slams into you one final time before shooting thick salty cum down your throat. König’s nails dig into your hips as he fucks you so hard, your stomach aches. He reached around grabbing your throat as his pace picks up…he was close.

“Can’t take anymore p-please König I’m so close” you cry, eyes rolling back.

“I love the way you beg.” He impales you one last time going as deep as your pussy allowed him. His cock trembles inside you as hot cum shoots from his pulsing tip. You fall to the bed in exhaustion, shaking like a leaf.

You wake up to the nagging sound of your alarm. Oh no you think pulling the covers up to your chest.

The sheets were soaking wet, if you didn’t remember last night's dream you’d have sworn you had an accident. Honestly you’d prefer if the infamous toilet dream was the culprit but that wasn’t the case here. This was a good old fashioned wet dream. You’ve had your fair share of wet dreams but König and Ghost…you had to be out of your mind. your brain probably used yesterday's events to generate some random dream sequence, it couldn’t mean anything. You stand, quickly stripping the sheets and making your way to the showers to wash off last night’s dream-like fun.

You get dressed and book it to the janitors closet to get a head start on your chores…something you never did. You couldn’t face either of them now, you decide to just bury yourself in your work. How could you talk This out? What would you say “hey I had a dream you two completely dominated me so we can’t chat right now?”. You’d rather die than ever admit something like that. Maybe this was a sign it was time to really think about your feelings. You need to truly understand how your heart works so nobody else would get hurt. You wondered where König was and what he was doing. Was he thinking about you the way you were thinking of him? You move the mop absentmindedly along the tile floor. You felt so safe with König, his laugh could light up a room, he was beautiful inside and out. But something about Ghost intrigued you and left you wanting more. You had to come up with a fair way to get to know both of them without anyone getting hurt.

“Maya, what if I wanted to date two people at once?” You lean over the lunch table so no one else would hear you. She’s quiet for a second, waiting for you to laugh but she sees how serious you are.

“What the hell are you talking about y/n?” She plops an orange slice in her mouth.

“Just hypothetically, how would you go about that?” You raise an eyebrow.

“Well…communication. Both parties would have to have a mutual understanding. Consent is key.” She explains.

“So just show your interest in the idea and inform them of the terms?”

“Right, but the real question is why would you want to do something like that?” She tilts her head.

“First of all it’s hypothetical, and second why should someone have to choose between two people they barely know. Shouldn’t they get the chance to atleast get to know each person.” You take a disgusting bite of your sandwich.

“Well…the person can try being friends with them first. That way there are no expectations.”

“What if they are stubborn and expect an answer right away?” You ask doe eyed. Maya pats your head supportively.

“Then they aren’t the ones for you.” You nod, shooting from your chair.

“God you’re so smart. I gotta go! See you later!” You yell back running out of the mess hall leaving your half eaten lunch.

You burst through ghosts office door without knocking as usual and as usual he gives you an annoyed look. To your surprise König sits at the opposite side of the desk, your guess is he’s being briefed on the next mission. His legs are wide as he leans back in his chair staring back at you silently.

“Great, you're both here.” You start.

“What do you want Rookie?” Ghost asks.

“We need to talk…” König stands, not wanting to hear whatever conversation you had to have with ghost.

“All of us.” he turns back to face you.

To be continued?…

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joannechocolat · 1 year

Text

On Power, and on Powering Through, and Why They’re Really Not the Same

I don’t pay much attention to personal attacks in reviews. It comes as the flipside of success; an attempt by the critic to puncture what they see as too much success. But I still remember one review, just after the film of Chocolat, when two of my novels happened to be in the Top 5 at the same time, in which a (male) newspaper critic referred to me dismissively as a premenopausal woman writer. I was a little taken aback. Clearly, it was meant to disparage, but I was only 35, ten years away from the perimenopause. What exactly did he mean? It wasn’t a comment about the book (which I doubt he had even read). The obvious misogyny aside, it seemed to express resentment, not of my books, but of me, myself, my right to take up space in his world. That word – premenopausal – was at the same time a comment on my age, my looks, my value, and a strong suggestion that someone like me shouldn’t be this successful, shouldn’t be writing bestsellers, shouldn’t be so – visible.

I don’t recall the name of the man, or the paper for which he was writing. He was far from being the only journalist who felt I didn’t deserve success. I shrugged off the unpleasant comment, but he’d meant it to hurt, and it did. I still wonder why he – and his editor - thought that was appropriate. I also wonder why, 20 years on, women are still dealing with this kind of thing. It’s still not enough for a woman to be successful in her chosen field. Whatever her achievements, you can be pretty sure that at some point, some man in his 50s or 60s – maybe an Oxbridge graduate, author of an unpublished novel or two - will offer his opinion on her desirability, either in the national Press, or most likely nowadays, by means of social media. The subtext is clear: women who don’t conform to societal values of what a woman should be are asking for this kind of treatment; especially those who dare to achieve more than their detractors.

10 years after that nasty review, I finally began the journey into perimenopause. No-one told me it was happening. No-one in the media was talking about it at the time. Even my doctor never thought to mention that my symptoms – the insomnia, headaches, mood swings, anxiety, depression, sleep paralysis, hair loss, brown patches on my skin – might have a single origin. I began to feel I was losing my mind: as if I were starting to disappear. I started to doubt my own senses. I blamed it all on the stress from my job. My mother had powered through menopause – or so she led me to believe – and made no secret of her contempt for modern women who complained, or treated the symptoms as anything more than a minor inconvenience.

And so I did the same. I powered through; and when at last I began to experience the classic symptoms of menopause - irregular bleeding, hot flushes, exhaustion, night sweats so bad that I would awake in sheets that were wringing wet – it did not occur to me to seek help. After over a year of this, I finally went to my doctor, who took a few tests, cheerfully announced I was menopausal, and when I inquired after HRT, advised me to power through – that phrase again - and let Mother Nature take her course. The internet was slightly more helpful. I took up running, lost weight, cut down on alcohol, downed supplements and sleeping pills and vitamin D, and felt a little better. Then, breast cancer came to call, and by the time my treatment was done, the symptoms had more or less disappeared, or at least had been superseded by the symptoms of chemo. I congratulated myself at having powered through cancer as well as surviving menopause.

But two years later, I feel old. I look that way, too. I’ve aged ten years. Some of that’s the cancer, of course. I was quite open about my treatment when I was powering through it – partly in order to pre-empt any questions about my hair loss or any of the all-too visible effects of three courses of chemo. Not that it stopped the comments, though. Even at my lowest ebb, a sector of social media made it clear that my only concern should be to look young and feminine to anonymous men on Twitter.

Right now, I don’t feel either. My hair has gone grey and very thin. My skin, too, seems thinner; both physically and mentally. At a recent publishing event, several acquaintances failed to recognize me; others just looked through me as if I had become invisible. Invisibility would be a relief; I find myself dressing for camouflage. I tend to wear baggy black outfits. I got my OBE last week. Photographs in the Press show me talking to Prince William. I’m wearing a boxy black trouser suit, flat shoes and a red fedora. I think I look nice. Not glamorous, but comfortable; quirky; unpretentious.

On a thread of largely supportive messages, one Twitter user pops up to say: Jesus, who’d accept an honour looking like that middle-aged disaster? @Joannechocolat thought she’d make an impact? She needs a stylist. If you look in the dictionary for the definition of “dowdy”, it features this photo.

It’s not the same man who belittled me over 20 years ago. But the sentiment hasn’t changed. Regardless of your achievements, as a woman, you’ll always be judged on your age and fuckability. I ought to be used to this by now. But somehow, that comment got to me. Going through menopause isn’t just a series of physical symptoms. It’s how other people make you feel; old, unattractive, and strangely ashamed.

I think of the Glass Delusion, a mental disorder common between the 14th and 17th centuries, characterized by the belief that the sufferer was made of glass. King Charles VI of France famously suffered from this delusion, and so did Princess Alexandra Amélie, daughter of Ludwig 1st of Bavaria. The condition affected mostly high-profile individuals; writers, royals, intellectuals. The physician to Philip II of Spain writes of an unnamed royal who believed he was a glass vase, which made him terribly fragile, and able to disappear at will. It seems to have been a reaction to feelings of social anxiety, fear of change and the unknown, a feeling both of vulnerability and invisibility.

I can relate. Since the menopause, I’ve felt increasingly broken. I don’t believe I’m a glass vase, and yet I know what it feels like to want to be wrapped in a protective duvet all day. I’ve started buying cushions. I feel both transparent, and under the lens, as if the light might consume me. On social media, I’ve learnt to block the people who make mean comments. To make myself invisible. To hide myself in plain sight. I power through, but sometimes I think: why do women power through? And who told them that powering through meant suffering in silence?

Fortunately, some things have changed since I went through the menopause. Over the past few years, we’ve seen more people talking about their experiences. Menopause is likely to affect half the population. We should be talking about it. If men experienced half these symptoms, you bet they’d be discussing it. Because power isn’t silence. You’d think that, as writer, I would have worked that out sooner. Words are power. Sharing is strength. Communication breaks down barriers. And sometimes, power means speaking up for those less able to speak for themselves.

I look at myself in the mirror. I see my mother’s mouth; my father’s eyes. I see the woman I used to be; the woman I will one day become. I see the woman my husband loves, a woman he still finds attractive. A woman with a grown-up child who makes her proud every single day. A menopausal woman. A cancer survivor. A woman who writes books that make other people sit up and think. A woman who doesn’t need the approval of some man she’s never met to be happy. She can be happy now. I can. And finally, I understand. Powering through isn’t about learning to be invisible. It isn’t about acceptance, or shame, or letting Nature take its course, or lying about feeling broken. It’s looking beyond your reflection. It’s seeing yourself, not through the lens of other people’s expectations, but as yourself. The sum of everything you’ve been; of everyone who loves you. Of claiming your right to be more than glass, or your reflection in it. The right to be valued. The right to shine, regardless of age or reproductive status. Men seldom question their own right to these things. But women have to fight for them. That’s why it’s so exhausting.

This morning, instead of putting on my usual baggy black sweatshirt, I chose a bright yellow pullover. I looked at myself in the mirror. It’s not a great colour on me now, but it feels like dressing in sunshine. My husband came into the bathroom. You look –

My husband rarely gives compliments. I can’t remember the last time he commented on how I was dressed. I wondered what he was going to say. Dowdy, perhaps? Inappropriate? Like a menopausal woman in dire need of a stylist?

At last, he said: When you smile like that, you look like a friendly assassin.

A friendly assassin. I’ll take that.

Shining like the sun. That’s me.

#menopause #cancer

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httpsclarye · 8 months

Text

#NOTHING SERIOUS+!

You had no idea why you were so concerned about whether or not your relationship with Zoro was serious. You both were certainly merely supporting each other, especially in the midst of the ocean, where people crave tenderness. Until he shows how seriously he considers you.

Pairing: Roronoa Zoro x Reader

Word count: 2.5k

Warnings/tags: 18+ content, reader is a overthinker, sanji as best friend, swearing, (kinda) idiots in love, there’s some talking about relationships, eventual smut, like in the end, don’t expect too much, oral sex (f receiving), face-fucking, face-sitting.

Ao3: Nothing Serious

English is not my first language, sorry for any mistakes :) Enjoy!

“You'll see him tonight.”

You inhaled the cigarette smoke till your lungs burned. It wasn't the first, second, or third time Sanji had brought up the matter; you were tired. Leaning against the rail of the ship, smoke encircled the two of you.

“I have no idea what you're talking about.” You took another inhalation before giving the blonde's cigarette back. “Anyway, it's nothing serious, whatever you're thinking, I assure you.”

He snorted, and you could see he wasn't buying what you were saying. After years of working together at Baratie, Sanji was able to read you like a book. “Oh, please, darling, I believe that at this point only Luffy is unaware of what is happening between you two.”

“Again, it's nothing serious. He's only a friend.”

“No, darling, I'm your friend; Nami is your friend; he's…” He dropped the rest of his cigarette in the sea and began to head to the kitchen to prepare dinner, yet not before lingering at the door to give you a sidelong glance. “Zoro is a very complicated person, I'm just saying. I think he has something going on in his moss head. If you happen to want to keep doing this, be careful.”

You continue to wander the deck of the ship while mulling over the conversation until the sun eventually sets and darkness falls. It was nothing serious. Zoro was really easy to be around; there were no challenges when you were around him. He was additionally very hot. Nothing that had been going on between you two had anything to do with the fact that whenever you felt that your pirate life was getting to be too much, you would always flee to his embrace in the dead of night. Especially in the midst of the ocean, people crave tenderness. Zoro was simply there to help you. Nothing serious.

However, once the two of you have had enough sex, he embraces you and plays with your hair until you nod off. Or how he always tries his hardest to make sure you enjoy yourself as much as he does, despite his issues with feeling vulnerable when you're topping. Or how he took a mattress so sex wouldn't be uncomfortable on the hard ground or leaning against a wall.

"Fucking Sanji, what does he have to do with what I do?" You murmured to yourself as you walked into the dimly lit kitchen, which was already packed with the crew dining at the table and savoring the food the blonde had prepared.

Dinner went quickly, and you just engaged in the conversations surrounding the upcoming supply gathering. Zoro's gaze tracked your movements, and you couldn't help but blush when you caught his attention in you. It was foolish, and even he looked puzzled by your behavior.

“If you'll excuse me, I need to wash the dishes to avoid a buildup.” You swiftly rose out of your chair as you began to pick up the dirty plates from the table. “Sanji, come with me.”

You were furiously scrubbing the plates when Sanji caught up with you at the sink and lit a cigarette “What's going on?”

You didn't know exactly what was going on. Outside of the nocturnal meetings, your relationship with Zoro was always easygoing; neither of you ever brought up your activities nor anything odd that might have addressed it. “It’s nothing serious, right? We're pirates, after all, so it makes sense that we would sleep with each other. He may have another female on a random island.”

If not for the fact that he had no random girls lying around, he had casually revealed to you that you were the only person he had slept with in the past few months. Why had he told you this?

“I don’t know what exactly you want me to say, love.”

“This is all your fault; I would have been perfectly normal if you hadn't started off with the idea of being serious or not.”

Sanji gave you a bored face, as he didn't seem stunned by anything. He snorted as he peered over your shoulder at the crew's still-occupied table. “Talk to him.”

You mumbled something indecipherable, hoping to put an end to the conversation. You didn't want to tell Zoro your thoughts because it might make everything too genuine, too real. Also, you couldn't help thinking that he may taunt you and assure you that what you two are doing is simply a casual fuck.

Even if you begged the gods for time to move more slowly, or even if you stood by in the kitchen a little longer to help the blonde clean the counters, you knew that eventually you would have to face Zoro.

As you walked down the stairs to the storage room, you limited yourself to positive thoughts; perhaps he won't notice your odd behavior; maybe he won't even give you a chance to speak before he picks you up by the hips, tosses you onto the mattress, and then takes you in such a way that you'll have to stifle your moans.

“Hey.” He was undoubtedly waiting for you for some time, as he was sitting on the mattress without his shirt on. You wondered how much time you spent helping Sanji in the kitchen. “C’mon here.”

Without looking him in the eyes, you untied your bra, dropped your shirt while approaching him, and just kneeled low enough to straddle his thighs. “Guess someone had been waiting for me."

“You look... so... pretty.” You moaned as one of Zoro's hands reached and pinched one of your nipples. “So perfect, only for me.”

He begins kissing and pinching the skin on your neck and jaw while stroking your breasts, yet your attention doesn't turn to the sensations in your body. For the thousandth time since your previous talk, you ponder whether he viewed you as special, whether or not he did what he does with you with others, if he engaged them in conversation about their insecurities, if he also talked about his childhood, if he also...

“What are you thinking?”

You emerged from your thoughts and let out a sigh as you regretted having come to see him with those thoughts in your head. You should have gone directly to your room and trusted that he would get the message. In short, you shouldn't have shown up.

“Could you just fuck me, please? I'm not in the best mood, Zoro.”

“No, I won’t fuck you when you’re barely here.” He threw out a sigh of annoyance at the situation at hand. ”Just tell me what's going on; you've been acting oddly since dinner.”

“Are we serious?”

The green-haired one grew silent and turned to face the wall behind you. As the room fell quiet, you tensed in his lap and started getting ready to get up and leave when he grabbed your hips roughly.

“I told you that I wasn't seeing anyone.” You could see a hint of color on Zoro's cheeks, as he was reluctant to look into your eyes. “I thought that meant quite the deal.”

“Oh. Oh. Are you for real? I didn’t realize this meant that.”

The realization made you feel embarrassed. It was so simple, yet you had been thinking about this particular comment of his for days. Of course, the careless manner in which he talked affected your understanding, but it was so fucking obvious.

“Y/N, I like you. But I don’t do this bullshit of boyfriend and girlfriend,it’s too... childish.” When he turned to face you, the inside of your chest started getting warm. “So, I really enjoy you. If you want to go tell Nami or the waiter that we are more than crewmates, sure, no problem, whatever.”

There was nothing you could say to express your delight other than a soft kiss, so you gave him that. You knew it wasn't a declaration of love; it's very likely that you weren't at that point in the relationship, but it was something.

“Just don't expect me to brag, kiss you on the deck or do anything cliche. You know that I am not like that.”

“Yeah, I know that.” Your lips curled into a faint smile. “I kind of like the private thing we have right here.’’

“Well, then, can we continue what we were doing? I mean, no offense, but it's difficult to pay attention with your boobs that close.”

You had barely finished nodding when his lips crashed into yours. He began nipping and sucking your lower lip between his teeth before sliding his tongue inside your mouth. His hands went right to your breast, and you whimpered when he lightly pinched your left nipple.

“Oh, Y/N…” Zoro mumbled, his pupils expanded, and his eyes grew dimmer. “I want you to sit on my face.”

“W-what? Why?”

Several times throughout your six or seven months with Zoro, he found himself between your legs. Receiving orals has never been an issue for you; in fact, he might actually like giving you orals due to how you wriggle under him.

But no, not in the way that he was requesting. The green-haired man was always reluctant when you were keen on riding his dick or being in any other position where he was at the bottom and “vulnerable”. Even though he never said it verbally, you could tell by the way he always tensed.

“What do you mean why, I want to eat you puss-“

“No, I know that.” You cut him off; it seemed odd that he wanted to do the position right then; you didn't want him to perform the deed out of a moral duty or anything similar. “Just, you know, you don't enjoy it when I'm topping.”

“Y/N… It's not that I don't enjoy it'” He cocked his head to the side while offering you kisses and hickeys in your neck. “Normally, I don't feel at ease. You, though, are the exception, and I want to make you feel good.”

You stopped straddling him to get off the mattress and take off the rest of your clothes. You felt his eyes watch you until you heard a noise that was obviously his body lying down completely on the mattress. Nervousness rose in your body as you returned to your starting position on his lap.

“It's alright, babe, come on up.” You were taken aback by Zoro's unexpected pet name—he never used that kind of thing—as his hands got to your waist.

He helped you climb up his body to his head, where you found yourself sitting on top of the green-haired face. But fuck, you dismissed all your anxieties the moment you felt his hot breath travel down your center.

“So wet for me.” You feel a rush of pleasure as you hear his breathy voice. “C’mon let me taste you”

He pushes you down by placing his hands on the inner sides of your thighs. Your folds are immediately warmed by Zoro's exploratory mouth heat. You whimpered as he ran his tongue over the length of your pussy, up and down, just to get a fickle at your clit and amplify your screams.

Zoro toys with the bundle of nerves with his teeth as he slides his tongue into you slowly. He knows exactly how to get you immediately over the edge. At first, the sensation is odd, yet gradually it causes your eyes to roll back in ecstasy. He is skilled at fucking you in every way possible.

“Y/N, I-” He stopped moving his head and breathed heavily into your core, “Ride me.”

The waves of pleasure pulsing through you nearly caused you to ask him to repeat what he had just said. If it weren't for Zoro's hands reaching to your ass and guiding you to move against his face, the lack of expertise probably would paralyzed you.

So you did ride him. You initially felt a little ashamed of the newly acquired control you had until you reached the ideal angle where his tongue pierced you and their teeth scraped your clit as you rocked back and forth.

“Oh, fuck Zoro, fuck..”

The green-haired man's hands were groping you blindly, squeezing your thigh and ass so thougly that it would probably have marks in the morning. You were drawn closer to his face as a result of his claws piercing right through the flesh.

You flung back your head as pleasure overtook you. Grabbing Zoro's hair with both hands and moving his face to find more friction, already too out of it to care what he felt.

You feel a rush of vibrations go through you as he moans into your core, and you just know that you’re close. Your walls clenched around Zoro's tongue as you rocked faster against his face.

“I-I’m so close”

You cum with a muffled scream of the green-haired man's name, and he continues fucking you through your orgasm, your body already getting tired from the overstimulation.

You're not sure how you got out of the position, but when you open your eyes, you're lying next to him, still gasping for air. You feel something shifting towards you, and when you look, Zoro is looking directly at your state.

“Are you alright?”

“No, I should be the one asking you that. Fuck, that was good”

He licks his juicy lips with his eyes half-open, completely pussy drunk. You suppose you should have an odd expression because he laughs, and you think you could hear that sound for the rest of your life.

You look away and end up coming into line of sight with his crotch, completely marked by his hard cock, which must be hurting at the time. You bring your hands to the waistband of his pants, but he stops you.

“No. Today was for you, only for you.” His tone is solemn, and you lack the strength to disagree or try to persuade him.

So you lie there next to each other, your body aching from the circumstances, but your mind is completely clear. You did not want to leave; you wanted to remain there forever, but you know it's past midnight and you both need to go to your rooms.

He gets up first. He's awkward and trying to hide his erection, despite the fact that you are already aware of it. “I need to go; you know, this mattress is not that comfortable…”

“Yeah, me too. I’m going in one minute.”

He comes to a halt just before the door, peering into your eyes one last time. “You should ride my dick next time.”

You can't stop your chuckle, and he grins as he leaves and closes the door.

You don't know how long you stayed on that mattress staring at the ceiling, remembering the whole night over and over again. You just know that when you finally got back to your room and finally let the tiredness get to you, it didn't take long for Nami to wake you up for the day.

Your body was sore; there were purple marks on your neck, thighs, and butt but everything was fine. When you arrived in the kitchen to have breakfast, he was there, like every day, but this time there was a tiny bit of difference in the way he said good morning to you.

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nina-ya · 8 months

Text

Patching up Luffys Wounds

Zoro Law Sanji Shanks Ace Luffy Sabo Doflamingo Pairing: Luffy x GN!Reader CW: Burn mentions. WC: 1098 You are peacefully seated on the deck of the Sunny, engrossed in a book, with Robin keeping you quiet company while she reads her own book. The weather is blissful, and the ocean stretches out as far as the eye could see. It is one of those serene days at sea where nothing threatens your tranquility. As you start to doze off, the gentle sway of the ship lulling you to sleep, your peaceful slumber is abruptly shattered by a deafening WHAM! The noise catapulted you back into the realm of consciousness, disoriented and perplexed. Your drowsy eyes darted around, seeking the source of the disturbance, you hear Sanji’s furious voice coming from the kitchen. Infuriated shouts, accompanied by a flurry of french obscenities, fills the air. Your curiosity leads you to the chaotic scene unfolding in the kitchen. As you step into the kitchen, a truly astonishing sight greets you. Food was scattered across every inch of the kitchen, floor to ceiling. Sanji was in a state of outrage, his culinary masterpiece reduced to an utter mess. His yelling is directed at no other than Luffy. You quickly connect the dots and realize that Luffy is the culprit behind the ruckus. The idiot tried to use his abilities to grab some food from the other side of the kitchen and had made a severe miscalculation. As a result, his hands are now decorated with painful burns.

You can’t help but stifle a laugh at the spectacle in front of you. It was clear that you need to intervene to prevent further chaos. Without hesitation you push your way through to Luffy. Luffy was booth whining in pain and complaining about hunger, and you practically have to drag him to the infirmary. The journey to the infirmary is not an easy one, but you manage to get him into the infirmary and coax him to sit still for a moment.

“Luffy, what exactly happened in there?” you aak, genuine curiosity in your voice.

HIs embarrassment is evident as he replies, “I just really wanted to taste what Sanji was cooking, and he wouldn’t let me! So, I took matters into my own hands and well… yeah…” With a sigh, you inspect his injured hands, the pain evident as he whimpers out in pain. “Ah, Luffy, you really are something else, aren’t you?” you say, shaking your head with a smile. “It’s like you’re a magnet for trouble, always diving headfirst into things without a second thought.” “Of course I think! Just like I did now! Sanji said no, so i thought, ‘Hey, I’ll just do it myself!’” He flashes you a grin. An amused smile graces your lips as you carefully apply some cream to soothe his burns. “Well, for now, you can think about sitting still and letting me wrap up your hands. That way, you can go back and try again, but maybe don’t miss this time, alright?” Luffy bursts into laughter. “I won’t miss next time, and you know what? I’ll get enough to share with you too!” You blink in mild disbelief at the unexpected offer. “Did you somehow hit your head too? I know you did not just offer me some of your food.”

With a shake of his head, Luffy playfully emphasized, “Nope, everything is all fine with the noggin,” he moves to knock himself in the head with emphasis, but you intervene, preventing him from causing more harm to himself.

“I’ll believe you once Chopper checks you out,” you respond with a teasing grin.

You turn your focus to bandaging his hands, and you gently take one of them in your own. As you wrap up his hand, you can’t help but notice the battle-worn scars that adorned his hands, like mementos of his countless adventures. “Why are you just staring at my hand?” Luffy asks suddenly, his grin from earlier still in place.

You finish up the first hand and start to wrap the other when you respond. “I was just looking…” you pause your bandaging to point out a particular mark on his hand. “Hey, do you remember how you got this scar?”

Luffys’ gaze follows your finger, and a wide, nostalgic grin spreads across his face. “Yeah! We were sparring and you were showing me this cool trick with a sword and you managed to land a hit right there. I say we should spar again.” His stomach rumbles, and he laughs. “After I get some food of course!”

You smile at the memory that the scar brings as you continue to wrap up Luffys’ hand. Out of the blue, his voice breaks the silence as his attention shifts to your hands. “Your hands are small,” his voice is soft and pensive. His gaze is locked on your hands and he seems to be captivated by it, a look of curiosity in his eyes. You finish wrapping his hand, and he extends his hand to touch yours. “See? Small…” he murmurs, his fingers slowly interlocking with yours, an infectious laugh escapes his lips as his eyes meet yours.

A smile graces your lips as well. “Yeah, they’re pretty small I guess.” A brief silence falls between the two of you as your intertwined hands feel each other's warmth. You decide to break the quiet moment with a cough and comment, “So, uh, it looks like you’re good to-”

Before you can complete your sentence, Luffy springs up from his seat and starts sprinting toward the kitchen, your hand held securely in his grip. He shows no intention of letting go soon. You can’t even get another word in before he declares, “Perfect! I’m gonna go get my food, and you’re coming with me, and I’ll be sure to get enough to share with you!”

Share? This is the second time he has mentioned sharing; does he mean it? His unrelenting grip around your hand only adds to your questions. Why is he not letting go? Why does he insist on holding my hand like this?

In the midst of being dragged to the kitchen, hand in hand with Luffy, you can’t help but feel a warmth spreading through you. These simple actions speak more than any words can say. You can’t deny your growing affection for the Captain through his story of unspoken feelings. As you venture towards the kitchen, you start to realize that this is just one page of the storyline you and Luffy share. Perhaps this is the beginning of a whole new chapter, and you are absolutely elated to see where this leads to.

#one piece #monkey d. luffy #one piece x reader #one piece fluff #monkey d luffy #luffy x reader #monkey d. luffy x reader

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