#'good morning'
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todayisafridaynight · 2 years ago
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good morning
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chiistarri · 6 months ago
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what if instead of messaging me in the middle of the night about your stupid fucking girlfriend and your stupid fucking problems with her you actually act like my fucking friend and message me like how you message everyone else in our group
#bye ignore my venting bigger problems what fucking ever#im sick of her ass she only messages us for us to help her with her fucking girlfriend problems like we arent even friends atthis fckn point#and i love her shes so funny whatever but god shes literally the worst because i just want to be friends i dont fucking care ab her goddamn#selfish ass gf thats shes obsessed with. be obsessed tell me about it but cant we be friends ab other stuff too#we used to be her 'favorite friend' cause we shared so many interests and we hung around what fucking ever but fuck that right#get a gf and just use us to help better yalls relationship without even telling her you're sharing her private msgs w us huh yeah sure#what fucking ever im so done with this bitch and i cant even get my contacts out cause i have long nails and im js poking my eye#AND SHE WOULD NEVER BE SORRY if our friendship fell apart she would tell everyone i was jealous of her gf or what ever i literally dont care#she was like an older sister before i dont get why getting a gf would have to change shit like ok good for u but what ab us#what about me its not even fucking fair like is it that hard to keep up w ur friends?? NO its fucking not#taking me so long to write a post bc im still fucking helping her with her stupid dumb selfish idiotic gf omfg#just BREAK UP i literally dont fucking care just leave her if she makes u unhappy its literally online tf is she gonna do to u nothing omfg#why am i the one being punished when shes the one with the stupid dumb gf that hates her and herself i dont fucking care i js want m friend#and i cant tell any of our mutual friends cause she dont do that to them its js me so itd be like im being dramatic#and like shit i guess i am but i dont care atp thats all she ever talks to me ab like ok i get it i helped u but stop jfc#but if i said that we'd never talk again bc what fucking ever!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! cause im just dramatic whatever#if u cant resolve these simple problems of communication on ur own then maybe u shouldnt be in a relationship idk js my thoughts! die#sry the 1 person who knows what xactly i mean is asleep and im so tired of getting late night msgs being like hii can u help me SHUT UP#id love to help if we were actually still fucking friends but we arent so js leave me alone bruh#post#nickpost#will delete in morning my mom keeps telling me to put my phone down bt i need 2 say smfh 2 some1#i hate change i hate slight differences in my normal day to day i hate everything i hate not having smth to rely on i hate change i hate it#sry im alg now im js sick of her ass js leave bruh#nimbhe my moms yelling im tired anyway i need to js isolate myself forever no problems if im on an island alone#living my best life in the shade drinking idk water or whatever and just talking to myself bc who even needs friends right!!!!!!!!#its 11:11 make a wjsh#adding more cz whatever im deleting this ltr anyway#its so clear where i stand with everyone cause its always close but not close enough friendly but not friends and i guess its the same w her#bye im out of tags etc whatever nobody matching my freak ever never comfortable in any friendships
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mainfaggot · 11 months ago
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little sisters are a test from god actually
#i think I've made this exact post before ...#shes just so MEAN to me#like I'll say good morning or good night and she just glares at me and tells me to get out of her room#I'll ask her where xyz kitchen appliance is and she'll tell me to use my eyes and stop annoying her#I'll sit on her bed to pet the cat and she'll yell at me#I'll wear something cute and ask her if she likes it or ill ask for her opinion#and she'll tell me that she doesn't care and that it doesn't even matter what she thinks so i should stop seeking validation#like???? i just want a little compliment every once in a while... is that a crime#she'll openly compliment my older sister constantly but when it comes to me she suddenly thinks she's some life coach or something and that#im an idiot for wanting to get a compliment when i feel a bit more confident in my appearance#she'll talk my ear off when she's in a good mood but if i talk the same amount she gets irritated and zones out or just starts being rude#i cant tell her things most of the time because she's always being mean to me.#i cant tell my parents things half the time because they dont get it and because it's so hard to be vulnerable#also because im gay and closeted#im out to my little sister but i cant even tell her anything about my life because shes so.#she doesn't care. shes judgmental. she always has something rude to say. she's supposedly supportive#bc she won't out me. but she makes me feel like a bad person for being a lesbian sometimes#it's so weird. i cant be sisters with my sisters because my older sister is so different and so homophobic#and my younger sister has become so prickly and cold over time#we used to be close before.#z.post
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neverendingford · 9 months ago
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#tag talk#hey bitches. she's afk so mom said it's my turn with the body. feels good to be back. I hate half of you parasites and I'm blocking some#same with Instagram. bunch of fucking drones posting shitty memes and sending the most unfunny jokes possible. blocking most of you there#started the process of sorting some things out with her girlfriend because damn some things are unacceptable and you've gotta say something.#she gets to do the soft and useless damage control later I guess I don't fucking care. I'm not going to let us get disrespected like that.#she lets it slide but I'm done taking shit.#sent an angry email to our therapist last night as well because fucking hell how can you be so incompetent at your fucking job.#Jesus h Christ didn't you study this in school or something? yeah we've gone through multiple therapists sorry that makes you insecure???#you're not the first and from the looks of things you're not going to be the last either.#saw the psychiatrist this morning and bipolar confirmed I guess. we'll see whether the new meds make much of a difference.#I kind of don't want them to though. I like being out and finally able to sort our shit out.#feels good to finally message people and tell them how I feel. I don't get a voice much anymore#and ugh I hate having long hair so much but I have to keep it because she needs it so I'll put up with it for her sake but damn I miss short#short hair was genuinely so fucking good and the hassle of long hair is so stupidly intensive but gender dysphoria so whatever I guess#anyway bye you mouth breathers I'm off to go get this stupid-ass body showered#I hate having a penis too though. that's one thing we can both agree on. it's so stupid and it hangs out and the shape is so stupid#God should take constructive criticism and also mean criticism because I have some opinions about how shitty his design is#anyway. bye idiots#Fade is such a fucking good band they were such a good pick for the Deadman Wonderland op
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no-144444 · 27 days ago
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Mark my words.- o.piastri
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summary: mark slips up about your marriage.
pairing: oscar piastri (no.81) x fem! rb!mechanic! wife! reader
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He crossed the finish line, and you couldn’t help the smile on your face. Sure, Checo had crashed in the last lap and Max had gotten p6. Not a good result, but then again, that’s what you had told Christian would happen if he didn’t let you build the car. 
You were Adrian’s protege. You were the next Newey. Christian was just too focused on the past. 
“Fuck!” he groaned, slamming his headset on the desk. 
“I told you so,” you sighed, leaving him at the desk and running to the parc fermé. Oscar would be coming through in mere minutes, and you wanted to be there to see him. Secretly dating another team’s driver wasn’t easy, but you two made it work. You were both lowkey about things, even though you’d been married for about a year now. You stood beside Nicole, far away from your own team, but you didn’t really care. You wanted to see the light in his eyes when he came up to his mum and you. 
Nicole wrapped her arms around you, cheering as you both relived the moment that Oscar had won. Oscar Piastri, 2 time Gran Prix winner. He’d proven himself time and time again, he wasn’t a second driver, and McLaren now had a difficult choice to make. 
But all that was for another day. Today was about Oscar. 
He ran over to the team, finally spotting his mum and you beside her. You could see from his eyes that he was smiling. She pulled him into a tight hug. 
“You did it!” she cheered, holding him close. “I’m so proud of you.”
He pulled off his helmet, smiling at her. “Thanks mum, love you loads,” he smiled, then turned his attention to you. “Not bad, eh?”
You smirked. “Not bad Piastri.”
“Not bad for you either, Piastri,” he smirked as you rolled your eyes. 
“Go get weighed idiot, I’ll catch you in the airport, yeah?”
“Wouldn’t miss you for the world,” he winked, then walked off to continue the celebrations. 
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You woke up the next morning, sore, with Oscar beside you. You groaned as you turned over, shutting off his alarm. “Osc,” you yawned. 
“Shush,” he whispered. “Five more minutes.”
“Oscar, we need to get up,” you reminded him, but he just tightened his grip on your waist. “Come on Osc, I need a shower.”
He smirked and you rolled your eyes, not missing his innuendo. “I could-”
“We did enough of that last night, give me time to recover,” you laughed. “Worth a shot,” he smiled. “Alright, I’ll start on some breakfast.”
He pressed his lips to yours in a sweet greeting (also short because his breath stinks in the morning) and you went your separate ways. This weekend was Singapore, and you knew how tough it was on every driver, engineer, and mechanic. Singapore was always the race you dreaded. It was unpredictable and hot. Way too hot. 
You came out of the shower to see Oscar pacing the kitchen, on the phone with a very stressed Mark. “No I understand that, but I thought they wouldn’t hear us… I-I didn’t mean to-“
“Oscar, it’s too late mate. You’d better just come out with it, or get your mum to, or something. People are getting really confused and they think Y/n is your sister or something,” Mark sighed
You burst out laughing, making Oscar laugh. 
“They think we’re siblings?” you laughed. “What the fuck?”
“You did call her ‘Piastri’ to be fair mate,” Mark chuckled.
“Well that is her second name!” he defended.
“Osc, just post our wedding photos or something,” you shrugged. “Or we could just let people speculate.”
“Sorry baby, but I don’t really love the idea of people thinking you’re one of my sisters,” he mocked, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you closer. 
You shrugged, grabbing a piece of toast he'd made you. “I don’t care, I’m just an insignificant engineer from RedBull.”
He rolled his eyes, a smile playing on his lips. “You’re so helpful,” he responded sarcastically.
“Using sarcasm as a defence mechanism because you don’t want to admit you’re the breadwinner of the family? How humble and noble of you,” you laughed, pressing a kiss to his cheek and squeezing his ass, making him jump. 
“I hate it when you do that,” he scoffed, batting your hand away. You knew he loved it. 
“Anyways, what’s our action plan lads?” Mark asked. 
“Up to you,” you shrugged. “I don’t care.”
“Will I post on twitter and act like it’s been common knowledge?” He suggested.
“Mate, no one would believe that. You’re known for keeping things secret and being nonchalant, just do that,” Mark laughed. 
“Sounds good to me,” you nodded. “Thanks Mark.”
“See you in Singapore,” he sighed and you grained as Oscar hung up the phone. 
“Fucking Singapore,” you groaned. 
“I know,” he nodded in agreement. “Hopefully this year I won’t be as ill.”
“Let’s fucking hope so,” you smoothed down his hair. “You need to start brushing your hair baby. It’s so awful in the mornings.”
His lips became a line and he nodded. “Humbling me isn’t always necessary,” he breathed out and wrapped his arms around you, grabbing your ass as he pressed kisses on your face and neck. “But it is appreciated,” he finished sarcastically, as you pushed him off giggling. 
“You’d appreciate it more if you took the advice,” you muttered, taking a bite of your toast. 
He shook his head, chuckling. “How’d I get so lucky?” he pressed a kiss to your cheek. 
You shrugged. “By using the dark arts?” you teased and he just laughed. 
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You walked into the Singapore paddock with Lando, deep in conversation about his upcoming birthday party. You usually weren’t photographed all that often in the paddock, and when you were, it’s usually because you were beside a driver or someone more important, mostly because you were known to ruin photos. Holding up your middle finger, threatening to flash the camera, etc, it’s what has made you a Gen Z favourite. You also refused to go up on the podium, no matter how many times Max asked. You were pretty low-key about everything, it worked well. 
“So I was definitely thinking a DJ, but what about the dress code? Should it be casual? Business casual? Black tie?” he questioned. 
You rolled your eyes. “Club attire Lando, it’s being held at a club, let people dress like they’re going to a club.”
He nodded, as if he’d never thought of that. “You’re a genius!”
“You’re a fucking idiot,” you sighed as he walked off to the McLaren motorhome. 
You walked off to the RedBull motorhome, noticing more cameras on you than normal. Most people just left you alone, it wasn’t often that the camera followed you (mostly because of your aforementioned behaviour), but tonight they wouldn’t let up. 
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Even as you sat in the pitlane, chatting to Daniel, you were still being recorded. 
“Do you know what this whole thing is about?” you asked Daniel and he looked at you like you were crazy. 
“Have you not seen what Mark posted?” he asked, his eyes wide. 
“What the fuck did he post?” you asked, rushing to get your phone out. 
And there it was. Mark had announced it for you. 
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aussiegrit
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tagged: oscarpiastri , reallyy/n
Liked by pierregasly, oscarpiastri, maxverstappen and 872,928 others
aussiegrit: These two crazy kids were too busy being in love (and winning races) to tell you guys that they’re married! Love you two xxx
comments
alexalbon: oh oscar’s going to go mad.
landonorris: marks time of death: now.
oscarpiastri: I WANTED TO POST FIRST
oscarpiastri: THIS SHIT IS UNFAIR. FUCK YOU MARK -> reallyy/n: someone will be sent to the stewards if you don't stop with the language...
pierregasly: it still freaks me out that they're MARRIED and 22 and 23. like wtf. -> kikagomez: 👀 -> pierregasly: ... -> user82: SHE CLOCKED YOU I FEAR
user93: I AM SO NORMAL ABOUT THIS (no i'm not.)
user22: THIS IS SO ADORABLE WTF
sebvettel: good memories! officiating was such a blast! -> user883: SEB OFFICIATED? -> user21: it makes sense, y/n has been super close with the schumachers and seb since she was a kid because of her dads job as a mechanic in f1. he worked for ferrari from the 1980s to around 2015. -> user02: LORE DROP?????
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“That dickhead!” you cursed. “I’m going to go find Osc, I’ll be right back.”
He nodded and sent you on your way. You had to tell Oscar, he definitely didn’t know yet, right? He was going to lose it at Mark, he wanted to be the one to post, he wan-
And you walked into someone. Someone wearing papaya. Oscar wearing papaya. Oscar. 
“Did you see?!” “Did you see?!”
You both chuckled, then remembered the situation. 
“I’ll kill him for you if you want?” you offered and he just smiled. 
“It had to come out somehow,” he shrugged. “Though, those aren’t the pictures I’d pick.” 
“We all know what pictures you’d pick,” Lando interjected, winking at you. Oscar elbowed him. “I meant your wedding pictures!” “Yeah, right,” you scoffed. “Anyway, we can call him later and kill him together. Sounds good?” 
He nodded, wrapping a hand around your waist, the other landing on your ass. “Sounds great.” 
He quickly pressed his lips to yours, feeling all of the cameras on him, but still not caring. “Love you.”
“Love you too,” you smiled before walking away, back to your conversation with Daniel. 
Mark was going to get murdered, that was just a fact. Mark your words.
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navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)
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lxnarphase · 6 months ago
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PRETTY BITCHES LOVE ME ᯓ★
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━━ ❝ SHE A BADDIE, SHE SHOWIN' HER PANTY! ❞ wc. 3.7k
ᯓ ❤︎₊‧⁺...synopsis : suguru is just as big of a show off as gojo, he's just more subtle about it. and he wants everyone in this damn club to know that you're his.
ᯓ ❤︎₊‧⁺...cw : blk!fem!reader x g. suguru, suggestive content, alcohol mention, exhibitionism, voyeurism (?), fingerfucking, public fingering, little bit of breeding kink and talks of knocking you up, lots of kissing, suguru really loves his girl, suguru can’t keep his hands to himself
ᯓ ❤︎₊‧⁺...lunar's note : suguru is just a slut for you i don't know what else to tell you. he's just as much as a mischievous little shit as gojo ! if you want to be tagged for the future posts, comment on the main post here ! enjoy baddies ❤︎ (also yes nonblack readers can read and reblog too, idk why some anons try to gatekeep)
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suguru's so touchy with you, it's sweet.
he can't keep his hands off of you whenever you go out. the poor man feels like he might just die if he's not having some sort of physical contact with you the majority of the day.
it could be the grocery store on a late night snack run in matching pajama bottoms or like now, a long night at the club for some celebration.
neither one of you remembers what or who the part is for, the alcohol in your systems causing you to focus on one another. the rest of your group is busy on the dance floor or bar, leaving you and suguru to cuddle up to each other in the VIP area like the lovesick idiots the two of you are.
your sitting across his lap, one hand in his hair and the other holding his shoulder, rubbing random shapes and patterns into the fabric of his shirt. it's so unfair, he just smells so fucking good and looks so damn handsome. you genuinely can't look at anything but him. 
and he loves it so damn much.
"s'guruuu," you coo at him, nose smooshed against his cheek. if you could, you'd get even closer to him, but this would have to suffice for now. "you're so handsome tonight..." 
the corners of his mouth tilt up into a smug smirk as he chuckles, his hand sliding from your knee to your upper thigh, stroking the exposed skin. you're so soft, could you really blame him for wanting to touch you all the time? compared to you, suguru is way more sober and is just eating up all the attention you're giving him.
not just because he loves you, but that was a plus.
no, it's because people are watching.
his sharp purple eyes flicker up, meeting with the group of girls outside of the VIP area that keep looking his direction.
their eyes are filled with interest and want when they look at him, and he can't help but chuckle to himself.
suguru knows he's attractive. hell, he's reminded of it every morning by the way you shower him in kisses and praises as part of your morning routine, making sure he knows just how much you love him and his 'stupidly pretty face,' as you so elegantly put it.
but what makes him laugh is how they look at you with disdain and confusion, as if they can't understand why you're in his lap instead of them.
it's disgusting, really, for them to even have the slightest thought that they could replace you. they must be lying to themselves, he thinks as your lips start to press kisses against his cheek, the soft curls and coils of your hair tickling his cheek.
you're just so cute, so adorable, so gorgeous, so beautiful. you're his pretty little angel, and seeing women jealous of you just fills him with so much pride, knowing you have other women jealous of you.
if only they knew how badly you have him wrapped around your little finger. if you so much as asked, suguru wouldn't hesitate to beat the shit out of someone for you, wouldn't hesitate to kill for you...but thankfully, it never got to that point.
yet.
"hmm, you think i'm handsome?" he leans in, his breath warm against your neck as he nips your ear. "nah, you look so damn gorgeous, angel. you're stealing the spotlight from me t'night."
his fingers trace circles into your thigh, enjoying your little giggles and complaints of it tickling. it only makes him do it more, your laughs and giggles making his heart squeeze a little bit.
fuck, suguru really loves how your skin feels under his fingertips, soft and smooth. it's all he thinks about. he wants to touch you forever, wants to feel you every second of the day. you are just so warm and soft, nothing would ever compare to the feel of your skin.
pulling away from your ear, he sees that those girls are still there, looking at you and him. the smirk on his face falters a bit, and his gaze hardens.
man, he really doesn't like how they're looking at you.
it's so easy for him to tell they have no cursed energy, just mere humans that could never even hope to be on the same level as you. it would be so fucking easy to just...snap his fingers and have them gone in an instant.
you steal his attention away from them and the dark thoughts swirling in his head by tilting his head your way, and instantly, his gaze softens.
jesus, the things you do to this man.
"sugu? what's wrong, honey," you mumble, worry etched into your features. you cup his face, thumbs stroking his cheeks to get him to calm down. "you don't look happy..."
the feel of your hands on his face, paired with the sweet concern in your voice, it washes away all irritation in him instantly. suguru hums, his eyes sliding shut. and the soft look in your eyes...he's so whipped for you, it's sickening.
you're so warm...
"no, baby, nothing's wrong," he reassures you, his smooth voice a low rumble. if he could, he'd be purring incredibly loudly right now, nuzzling into your palms. just your touch is enough to make him melt.
"'m just thinkin' how lucky I am, havin' you all to myself like this. the prettiest girl in the world, and she's sitting in my lap...who knew i'd make it this far in life, hm?"
the low, purple lights of the club cast a soft glow on your face as your fluffy hair frames your face, and suguru sighs, looking at you like you were his everything. you are his everything.
a quick glance to the side and suguru takes note that those girls are still fucking there, looking at you both. instead of getting irritated again, suguru gets an idea.
with a smirk, his hand slides up further your thigh, his fingertips slipping under the hem of that pretty purple dress he bought you that contrasts against the dark color of your skin...so pretty.
"mm, babygirl, just looking at you is making me dizzy," suguru purrs, his gaze dipping to your lips before meeting your eyes again. "you know i love you right? an' that all i wanna do is show you off s' everyone knows how pretty you are, right?"
you know better.
you know better than to trust him when he starts making comments like this, when he starts cooing and praising you out of nowhere.
because you know that it means suguru is up to no damn good.
you still haven't forgiven him for making you squirt on his fingers while he was on the phone with nanami...even though it was kind of cute how nanami couldn't look you in the eye without blushing for about two weeks.
"mhm...i know, sugu, you're a little show off that likes to get us in trouble," you playfully scold, tugging his hair a little as you giggle, looking at him with a soft gaze.
suguru's head tilts back, and his eyes flutter shut for a moment, a soft grunt leaving him. he's always been a sucker for you pulling on his hair like that, likes when you tug him around to make a point...shit, he's getting hard just from thinking of all the times you'd use his hair to get his attention or make him focus on something.
and it doesn't take long for you to discover his thoughts are going south.
with an exasperated gasp, you feel the hardness of his arousal pressing against your ass, letting out a little scold of his name. his grip on you tightens when you shift to confirm your suspicions. his head leans to rest in the crook of your neck, a silent plea for more of your affection.
"but you like it when I show off," suguru teases back, pressing a kiss against your neck as your curls tickle his face again. even your hair was soft, it's like he's got his own little pillow pet in his lap. the thought makes him chuckle, knowing you'd probably swat at him playfully for comparing you to a plushy
"you get all worked up, it's so cute, angel...plus, i think y'like it when i cause trouble." his hand swaps thighs and creeps up higher under your dress, his fingers brushing the edge of your panties. he's playing a risky game. at any moment, someone could catch him and get you both kicked and banned from the club.
but where's the fun in life without taking risks?
"c'mooon, admit it, baby, you like it."
one glance up back into the crowd and suguru hums, his eyes glinting dangerously. still there, it seems.
they aren't staring as hard now, but looks of disbelief cross their face when his hand shamelessly goes right to the apex of your thighs, fingers running over the lace of your panties. suguru doesn't care anymore, if they wanna look so bad, he'll give them something to stare at.
"s-suguru...you're, mnh, gettin' close there..."
he doesn't give you a response, his hand sliding from your back up to your hair to keep your head in the crook of his neck. he may be fine with showing out a little bit to these bitches who tired to glare daggers into you, but no one except him gets to see your face.
the way your lashes flutter, the way your teeth dig into the plushness of your bottom lip...it's driving him crazy.
the faint scent of your perfume hits his nose, and he's gone. his cock is pressing against your ass in full hardness, and he has to stop himself from grinding up into you.
nah, right now, this is about you.
he's going to take care of you, going to make you feel good, going to make sure you know that you are his in every way that counts.
without wasting another moment, suguru's fingers slip under your panties, pausing when they touch the faint wetness gathering at your slit.
"fuck...baby, don't tell me you've been like this the whole night," he rasps, his breathing slowly starting to pick up. your soft cunt is hot to the touch, sticky and wet as he drags his fingers through your slick.
"i can't help it, you just...look, really good t'night, baby," you huff into his ear, gasping a moan when he doesn't hesitate to slip a finger into your slick hole.
he really does look good tonight, dressed in those black dress pants, sleek dress shoes, and that stupidly hot black button-up shirt. and he has the sleeves rolled up and the top few buttons undone so that you can get a nice view of that necklace with your name on it resting on his collarbone.
how can you not get soaking wet?
"shit." he's groaning, the sensation of you nuzzling your face into his neck to press little open-mouthed kisses into all the sensitive spots of his neck sending a shiver down his spine. it's so sweet and precious how you try your hardest not to make too much noise and not move too much as he stirs up your cunt with just one of his fingers.
he wishes you both were back at home, wishes that he had you spread open on the bed so that he can see how wet he's got you just from his attire, so that he can hear your pussy squelch around his fingers. not even the strongest in the world would be able to pull him from your pussy whenever you get this wet.
the thought of gojo trying to pull him away from you makes him cringe a bit...because he knows damn well that idiot would be shoving his face deeper into your cunt, grinning as he practically makes suguru drown in you.
on second thought, that's not a bad way to go....
another tug to his hair as him unintentionally groaning, eyes snapping shut at the sharp pang of pleasured pain that shoots up his spine. his attention is back on you, his face close to yours as he breathes against your ear.
if you want his attention, then he'll give you all of it with no hesitation.
"suguruu, more...please," you finally whine, the slow movement not enough for you. it's almost torture; the slow in and out motions of his finger making you feel good but not good enough. no, you need more, craved it.
"yeah? you gonna be a good girl f' your suguru and let him take care of this needy lil' pussy? hm?" one finger turns into two, and that familiar heat pools in your lower abdomen. now it's feeling so fucking good that you already know his fingers are gonna be coated in your juices.
this should be embarrassing, it really should. you both are in a club for fucksake! but you can't find it in you to care about it, his thick digits working your cunt so good that your brain is just melting.
one of your hands grips his button-up, fisting in the fabric to ground yourself from the pleasure. "m-mhm! I'll be good, I'll be s' good for you, sugu, promise!" suguru is becoming relentless, determined to make you crack and stop hiding those pretty sounds from him when he takes note of how you go right back to biting your lip after giving him that sweet, needy response.
however, he loves seeing your lips all swollen, knowing they were like that because he made you feel so good you had to force yourself to be quiet.
"sweetheart, don' hide it, lemme hear you, 's just you and me," he whispers to you, his other hand burying itself in your curls and giving a little tug. he knows it's not just the both of you, but right now, in this moment, it's all that exists for him.
the harsh pull of your hair has your lips brushing against his ear and choking on a moan, unable to keep it in. "thaaaat's it, let me hear how good it feels t' have these fingers buried deep inside this tight cunt."
you hate this, hate when he talks because it only makes you wetter. and that means he's gonna talk even more, and you're always right because he's cooing at how much slick is pouring out of you now, asking if it's because of his voice or his fingers.
suguru's so fucking annoying, such an asshole, but you can't help but let him get away with it when it means he makes your eyes flutter closed in pleasure.
you let him get away with way too much, don't you?
the song playing now is so loud, the bass making the ground vibrate. but suguru doesn't care, he's just thankful it's loud enough to cover that fucking beautiful moan you give him when he curls his fingers juuuust right.
"oooh, there? did i find it? fuck, baby, y'got so tight jus' from that."
your desperate nod of confirmation is all he needs before he speeds up his fingers, groaning when he can finally hear the wet schlicks of his hand coaxing more slick out of you.
one more glance up and suguru can't help but grin. the girls are gone, now mixed up in the crowd likely red and hot in the face.
seems like his impromptu little show finally got the message across: he is yours and yours only.
knowing he no longer had to show off, he's focusing on you, on you and that tight, needy little slit between your legs that's dripping down his wrist. it should be a crime for someone to be this wet, in public no less.
"c'mon, angel, don' hold back on me anymore, lemme know how it feels. wanna know 'm treating this gorgeous pussy good."
you let out the prettiest moan, breath hot against his ear. suguru coos, his hand not between your legs holding your neck to keep your head in the crook of his neck. “mhg, suguru, love it s' much, g-god, your fingers feel s'good, 's not fair.”
you can't stop yourself from trying to spread your legs more, giving him a bit better access. you know you can't open them too much ot someone might see.
but...would that be so bad? for people to see how suguru could make you fall apart so seamlessly?
if only you knew that's exactly what was running through his head right now. he's positive at least one person has caught on to what's happening, the repeating motions of his hand between your legs such a dead giveaway.
it thrills him, his cock throbbing in his pants at the thought. shit, he's learning things about himself he didn't know before...he might have to do this to you more often.
he leans in closer, his mouth grazing the sensitive skin of your neck, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine as he whispers, "y'gonna cum for me right here in this club, aren't you, babygirl? gonna show me how much you love my fingers playing with this slutty lil' pussy, right?"
he gets a sweet little 'yes, sugu' and he purrs your name, the mixture of your moans, the music, and the just barely audible sounds of your slickness being stirred by his thick fingers, making him feel drunk.
you're shaking in his lap, holding on for dear life as he makes it a point to curl his fingers with each thrust, not giving you a break anymore. you're spiraling, feeling the tremors of your impending orgasm building, your hot, gummy walls fluttering around his stupidly thick digits. you're praying silently between each pant and gasp, desperately hoping he doesn't make you squirt, not now, not when so many people are around—!
"c'mon, baby, c'mon," suguru encourages, his fingers picking up their pace. you're so close, he knows it, he knows because he can feel it coming. the way you fist his shirt, the way your hips are trying to hard to not rise up to meet his hand, knowing it would make it so obvious what's happening.
but suguru, oh, he stopped caring so fucking long ago. he just wants to feel you soak his fingers, wants to hear your muted little moan of his name when you finally cum. he just wants to make sure you know you're his.
"b-baby, suguru, shit, i'm gonna cum—!"
"yeah? that's it, baby, let got f'me, you can do it," he urges and coos, his voice bordering on needy and desperate, just like you. he's panting into your ear, whispering little praises as he listens to you pitifully try to keep your gasps and moans down. you're such a mess, it's so cute, you're so adorable, god, he loves you so bad.
your thick thighs are quivering and trembling as you teeter on the brink of release. you know it's going to be a mess, but you try, you try so hard to keep it in.
suguru notices—how could he not—and he's not having it, slipping a third finger inside your messy little cunt, curling deep inside right against that sweet spot, and that knot wound so tight inside you finally snaps.
"s-suguuuu, 'm cummin'—!"
he's reveling in how your hot, gummy walls squeeze and spasm all over his fingers, milking them for all they're worth as you cry and sob his name into his ear, tears caught on your eyelashes from how good it feels. he wishes he could look at you, wanting to drink up your expressions, but no, he'd be risking someone else seeing how pretty you are when you cum.
"yessss, good girl, good fuckin' girl, gimme everything, babygirl."
your cries of release are so damn sweet to his ears, and he continues to work you through it, ensuring your orgasm is as prolonged and intense as possible. if you were home, he wouldn't care about stopping or overstimulating, but he has to remind himself to stay calm and not go too hard.
if he did, he wasn't sure he'd be able to stop himself from fucking you on this couch in the middle of the VIP section in front of all these people.
once suguru feels you go slack in his arms and your hand weakly slap against his chest, he slows his hand, his own breaths heavy with the arousal and need you stirred in him...did you have any idea how sexy you were? if he wasn't as controlled as he was, he's positive he would've cum in his pants.
pulling his fingers out slowly, suguru's quick to pop them into his mouth, sucking off your juices like it would be the last time he'd ever get a last. fuck, you soaked his hand...he doesn't care how obvious he makes it when he licks at his palm and wrist to not miss a drop.
"hhmph, s-suguru, you—"
"i need you, right now. can i take you home?"
of course, he has to ask. he knows how long it took you to get ready, to look so fucking perfect. but right now, he doesn't want anyone to look at you. hell, he doesn't want anyone else but him to be near you, he'd fucking wipe out this entire club right now if you asked.
the soft touch of your hands on his face brings him back, making him melt as his eyes slide shut. you're so soft, he loves you so much, he needs to stick his cock into you while groaning those words into your ear, needs to feel his tip kiss that soft, spongy spot inside you that makes your back arch off the bed, to fold you in half as he stuffs you so full, praying that his cum gets stuck deep inside you, praying that it takes and that he gets you knocked up, and that—
"take me home, sugu, please, i-i need you s' bad."
your words have him acting in an instant he presses a quick kiss to your lips, licking whatever is left of your lipgloss before helping you stand up with him, guiding you out of the club. if he stays in here for any longer, he's not sure he'll be able to control himself.
"i got you, baby, don't worry, 'm gonna give you what you need. let's go, princess."
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feeder86 · 28 days ago
Text
Guy and a Gain
“Sure, she’s cute. But she can’t give a decent blow job to save her life,” Guy shrugged, checking out the girls on the dancefloor with his football buddy, Rich. 
“You’ve slept with her already?” Rich asked, always impressed by Guy’s prowess. 
“Of course I have. Look at her. She’s the prettiest girl in here by far,” he nodded down at her. “But she has no instincts when it comes to giving head. She’s been my biggest disappointment since I arrived on campus.”
“I’m sure she could learn,” Rich shrugged, still taken with the girl. He was tall and broad and enough of a catch for her. However, he didn’t have the natural good looks, strapping build and height that made it so effortless for Guy to pick up whoever he wanted on a night out.
“If you want her, go buy her a drink,” Guy shrugged. “But I’m telling you, you’ll be disappointed. If it’s a decent blow job you’re after tonight, you can’t go wrong with a fat girl. They’re always out to please. Gay guys too - awesome at taking a dick in their mouth.”
“Dude!” Rich shot back, taking a step back in horror. “You’re telling me you’re gay?”
Guy laughed, rolled his eyes and shook his head. He strapped his big arm over Rich’s shoulders and pulled him back in. “Don’t be that guy,” he stated warningly. “Not if you and I are going to be friends. It’s not the nineties. You hear what I’m saying?” he asked, turning his head to Rich. There was no denying which of them would win in a fight, so he wasn’t about to take some outdated homophobic shit just because the idiot came from some backwards ghost town in the midwest. “I love sex. And I stick my dick wherever it feels good. That’s just the kind of man I am.”
Rich seemed to get that he’d been out of line and he nodded respectfully. All the boys on the football team looked up to Guy, not just for his sporting capability and strength, but because he genuinely didn’t seem to give a crap about what others thought about him. He was smart and sharp; perfectly suited to the business degree he was studying. “So who’s given you the best time since we started college?” he asked.
“You’d be surprised,” Guy chuckled. “I have this skinny little geek in the room next to mine. You could tell he was a total virgin until I came along, but… fuck me! The boy is a natural when it comes to sucking. And so convenient, right next door. I don’t even have to knock.”
Rich nodded; his world view was a little less narrow than it had been a few minutes ago and he now seemed genuinely interested in his team mate’s extensive experiences in the bedroom. They chatted a bit more, until Guy saw the girl he wanted that night. Short, round and eyeing him like crazy. He’d give her a night she’d never forget!
“She was a bit of a noisy one last night,” Mikey grumbled, sliding into the kitchen area the next morning.
Guy laughed and tore a large bite out of his toast with his teeth. “Sorry, buddy,” he laughed. “I forgot you nerds all go to bed at 9am.”
Mikey rolled his eyes and poured himself some cereal. It was rare that they ever got the kitchen space to themselves like this, but Guy was always up for his gym session, no matter what time he went to bed. He sat there, hunched at the breakfast bar, his damp clothes sticking to his enormously muscular body. Even unshowered and stinking of sweat like this, he knew he could still get his favorite neighbor, Mikey, to go down on him in a microsecond.
“I noticed you brought home another fat girl,” Mikey commented next, grabbing the last of his own fresh milk that Guy had left him, after downing most of it post-workout. “You’re making quite a habit of this.”
Guy rose to his feet and laughed, dropping his plate in the sink for Mikey to clean up after him and grabbing the boy by his hips from behind. “Spying on me, huh?” he whispered teasingly. The boy was at least half a foot shorter than him, melting the moment he was touched. “Jealous, perhaps?”
Mikey moaned as he felt Guy’s lustful hands slide into his crotch to check how hard he was. “I just thought…” he mumbled, “some people find it odd when athletes like you date the fat girls.”
“Because I really give a shit about what people think, don’t I?” Guy chuckled back, peeling back Mikey’s shorts so that his tight glutes were exposed. “I could fuck your skinny little ass later if you think it might balance things out a bit?” he teased. He strolled off to the refrigerator, leaving Mikey to cover himself back up before anyone else came in, perusing the shelf of food Mikey had bought for himself yesterday and seeing if there was anything he wanted to help himself to. “Just because you eat like a little sparrow...,” he sighed, seeing the boring items within and taking a large pot of yoghurt to eat in his bedroom, “... it doesn’t mean that everyone else has to.”
Later that evening, Guy lay back on Mikey’s bed, his head swirling from the intensity of the orgasm after shooting down his geeky neighbor’s throat. He’d never admit to his face how good Mikey was at this, but of the scores of people he had slept with since coming to college, Mikey was the only one he’d made a habit of going back to.
“How was that?” the keen boy asked; his eyes watering from having taken Guy so far down his throat.
“Average,” Guy lied, wishing the nerd would be quiet a few moments longer and allow him this period of pure bliss.
“Not like the fat girls you bring home with you then?” Mikey asked.
Guy opened his eyes and sighed, sitting up. “Are you still going on about that?” he grumbled, pulling his underwear back up his muscular legs and raising his butt to get them all the way up.
“I kinda wanted to ask you something?” Mikey tried next, in an oddly serious tone.
Again, Guy sighed impatiently. “What is it?”
“These fat girls you go after… do you ever get horny thinking about them… y’know… getting even fatter?”
Guy raised an eyebrow. What sort of an odd question was that? He shrugged his shoulders, deciding not to commit to an answer and see where the hell Mikey was going with this. “Why do you ask?”
Mikey seemed emboldened by Guy’s response, getting up from his kneeling position on the floor and sitting on the chair by his desk. “It’s just… sort of a fantasy of mine,” he explained.
“Me fucking fat chicks?” Guy asked sceptically? He realised he knew so little about what genuinely got Mike going.
“No. Not that,” he replied, shaking his head. “There’s just something so kinky and submissive about getting fat for someone; becoming soft and out of shape.”
Guy looked across, even more puzzled, despite doing his best to hide it. “You eat less food than anyone else I know,” he shot back. “You won’t be getting fat anytime soon!”
Mikey nodded, as if Guy had hit the nail right on the head. “Exactly!” he smiled. “Imagine if someone pushed me to get fat for them! If some dominant guy made me eat all the things that forced my body to grow and grow for his own pleasure. How fucking sexy would that be?”
Nodding, Guy considered the idea. “You’re definitely submissive enough,” he agreed, standing and pulling up his sweat shorts. 
“You’re not going to tell anyone I told you that, are you?” Mikey asked, suddenly panicked.
“Who the fuck do you think would be interested?” Guy laughed. “People are allowed to have kinks, y’know? You need to lighten up a little!”
Mikey nodded back in agreement. Neither of them socialised within the same circles anyway. Guy was nothing if not liberal when it came to all things to do with sex. It was water off a duck’s back.
Mikey didn’t mention the subject the next time Guy went over for his servicing, despite being surprisingly chatty about his day afterwards. Guy listened out of a vague politeness as he stretched out on Mikey’s comfortable bed and watched the TV screen in the background. He could relax around Mikey. The guy didn’t take any of this too seriously and never got clingy or sentimental. Sex was sex.
In fact, it was only as Guy spotted Mikey in the corner at a frat house party, that he realised he had never actually seen Mikey outside of the dorms until then. Their lives were so disconnected, with the exception of the thin wall that separated their dorm rooms. He waved politely, following the other athletes through to the kitchen, where the usual fun and drinking games took place.
Later that evening, with a circle of women swarming around him, Guy looked over to see a boy looking in Mikey’s direction. Tall, slim and not unattractive, he gave Guy the distinct impression that he was interested in the nerdy boy. “Does anyone know who that one is?” Guy asked the girls.
“That’s just Aiden,” one replied. “He’s got a crush on that guy over there,” she pointed at Mikey. “They're on the same course together or something.”
Aiden? That name rang a bell. Guy was sure he’d heard that name mentioned by Mikey a few times in the past. It surprised him how little he had actually considered Mikey’s life outside of their casual fucking. Of course Mikey was going to pique someone else’s interest at some point. Guy wasn’t the type to get into a relationship, but perhaps Mikey would be. Then what would happen? No more awesome blow jobs for a start. Normal people weren’t good at sharing.
“Hey, Mikey!” Guy suddenly shouted from across the room, catching sight of Aiden moving in, as if to make his move. “Come grab a drink with me.”
Mikey smiled and diligently headed over. There, Guy wrapped a big arm over his slim shoulders and slipped a shot into his hand. Guy himself didn’t drink, never needing alcohol to make him fun at a party and refusing to fuck his training up with toxins that could impact his progress. There he stood, guarding the boy from any who may try to come near. Ten minutes was all they stayed after that, walking back to the dorms so that Aiden couldn’t sneak his way towards Mikey when Guy wasn’t looking.
“Are you coming in?” Guy asked, opening the door to his own bedroom and inviting Mikey inside. 
“I’m honoured!” Mikey joked, having never been invited into Guy’s room before. He stepped over the threshold, into the dungeon of mess, sweat and sex.
The idea of Aiden had plagued Guy’s mind, suddenly making him realise just how much he had taken Mikey, and his awesome sucking skills, for granted. A gesture was required; a way to show the boy that his pleasure was important too. Guy stood in the middle of the room, planting his feet solidly and pulled the geek into him; kissing him passionately in an almost romantic manner. “Did you like that?” he grinned afterwards, knowing how well he could seduce when he wanted to. He pulled off his shirt and went in again, this time guiding Mikey’s hands to explore his muscular chest. He needed Mikey to know what an absolutely perfect specimen he was if the boy was going to be asked out by Aiden soon; let him see what he would be missing out on if he got into a relationship. “Let’s take off your clothes,” Guy whispered next, undressing Mikey himself until his pants and underwear fell around his feet and he stood there naked, erect and longing for him.
Mikey seemed to appreciate how different this all was. Guy was the first to admit that he never really put the effort in when it came to his sessions with the boy next door. Then, when Guy started sliding his large hand up and down Mikey’s hardness, the skinny boy moaned like he could climax at any time.
Guy had no intention of losing his fuck buddy. For the last hour, he’d been plotting how best to handle the situation, settling upon something he decided he could give Mikey better than anyone else. He threw open his closet door where a mirror rested on the other side, now reflecting Mikey perfectly back at himself.
“Who’s that skinny little shit in the mirror?” Guy teased him, looking like a monster of pure muscle stood behind him.
In the mirror, Mikey watched Guy’s hand slowly sliding up and down his hardness; his lust filled eyes half closed and his jaw slack.
“I want you to do something for me,” Guy whispered next. “I want you to drink my protein shakes,” he nodded backwards to the little minibar that also served as a bedside table for him. “Five hundred and eighty calories each,”
Mikey turned and looked up at him, as if the reflected version was merely a mirage. “You want me to drink all your shakes?” he asked, as if worried he had misunderstood.
“Yeah, I do…” Guy nodded down at him. “Every last drop.”
Guy could feel Mikey almost quivering with arousal. He bent down to his little fridge and popped the lid on one of his shakes.
“You know what these will do to you, right?” Guy grinned. “These aren’t made for skinny little dweebs like you. Boys who drink these and don’t exercise… they start to…” he whispered, keeping Mikey hanging on his every word. “...They start to get a little fat!””
Mikey nodded with absolute submission; his hands twitching to take the bottle from Guy’s large hand.
“Say goodbye to the skinny boy,” Guy laughed, nodding at the reflection once more, before twisting the mirror slightly so that the angle changed. Then he sat himself against the headboard of his bed. He spread his legs, pulling Mikey to sit into his crotch with his back resting against his strapping chest. Cleverly, Mikey could still see everything in the mirror as Guy’s hand rose up his neck, tipping his head back so that it rested on his muscular shoulder. Then those strong fingers pressed into Mikey’s cheeks, opening the jaws and turning Mikey’s mouth into the perfect pouring hole for the shake.
The mixture was cold. Guy took his time, adding a little at a time, as if making Mikey work for it. He theatrically rubbed the boy’s throat, like he was encouraging a good swallow; then went straight back to work on that aching erection. Once one bottle was down, Guy could reach with his giant arm span down into his minibar for the next, without even having to move Mikey. Then, down went another, and another.
“Can you see what’s happening?” Guy whispered, rubbing a hand over Mikey’s bloating stomach.
“It looks so big!” Mikey moaned back, with Guy having to pull his hand away from the boy’s erection once again in order to stop him climaxing.
“This is what you’re going to grow for me,” Guy demanded. “Every day, everything you eat… all for me.”
Mikey moaned so loudly now, it felt almost cruel to deny him his orgasm any longer. “Yes!” he nodded emphatically. “I swear. I absolutely swear!”
Guy only needed to touch him for a few seconds and the eruption that followed was more explosive than any he had ever seen a guy make. He looked at the splatter above the headboard behind them and chuckled. It was almost as high as he could get it himself. This was certainly a strange kink that Mikey had, but Guy felt that he had made his point well. No one was going to indulge this geek in his fantasies about weight gain; at least, not like Guy could. So why would Mikey need to look for connections anywhere else?
A few days later, Guy did a double take as he looked on Mikey's shelf in the refrigerator for food he could steal after his workout. Gone were the boring, sensible ingredients, replaced with high carb options, sugars and high fat dairy. Guy almost thought he was just confused, until he checked out the cupboard that Mikey kept for himself as well, finding a similar story. He frowned in confusion, wondering whether people had reorganised the kitchen space, until the encounter with Mikey nights before came back to him. Was the boy actually going to have a go at gaining a few pounds? How cute was that? But would this mean that Guy would have to buy more of his own food whilst Mikey was going through this little phase of his? 
The normally fresh and clean smell of Mikey’s room was tainted by spices and the sweaty, grease stained food containers that piled up on the boy’s desk. Mikey himself looked bloated and sluggish, his stomach stretched so much that he was obviously in some discomfort. Guy looked down at him, trying to hold back a laugh. “Someone’s been enjoying himself!” he teased.
Mikey nodded. “If I’d have known you wanted to stop by tonight, I’d have saved the pizza so you could watch me eat it all for you.”
Guy wondered what on Earth Mikey expected him to get out of watching him eat a pizza. Was it supposed to be kinky? Like the protein shakes? Perhaps it was part of the submission aspect. All the same, it sounded more than a little dull. But this was Mikey’s kink and Guy was hardly about to shame him about it. On the contrary, how exciting that the otherwise vanilla boy was actually doing something that he genuinely found thrilling. “We’ll have a little fat belly on you in no time!” he smirked, reaching down to pat the clearly overstuffed stomach.
Like a flip switching in Mikey’s mind, the boy instantly became more aroused. Guy took notice, rubbing the stomach more and more, until Mikey finally fished out Guy’s boner and set his magic mouth to work.
“Have you seen Mikey recently?” asked Hannah, a former conquest of Guy's and the girl who lived across the hallway. “He’s seriously packed on the Freshman Fifteen.”
“You probably just saw him after he’d had a meal,” Guy replied knowingly. “He tends to eat a lot in one go. He gets bloated.”
Hannah shook her head, not accepting the excuse in the slightest. “This was first thing in the morning. He has actual love handles!” she stated emphatically.
Now it was Guy’s turn to shake his head. He’d only been in to play with Mikey a few days before the Spring Break and he hadn’t noticed any sign of love handles before then.
Hannah laughed. “Seriously!” she chuckled. “I’m not making this up.”
Guy marched down the corridor and knocked on Mikey’s door, making Hannah laugh as she stayed in the kitchen. “Wakey, wakey!” he called out, knowing that the boy was rarely up at this time on a Saturday. In the short space of time that it took a groggy Mikey to get out of bed, the door clicked unlocked and in Guy went, closing the door behind him. The dark, hunched form of Guy’s drowsy neighbor slipped straight back into bed. Instead, Guy strolled over to the window and threw them open dramatically. “Time to get up!” he teased. 
As light flooded the room, Guy could see the mess of wrappers and containers that was testament to how much Mikey had been overfeeding himself since he arrived back on Wendesday night. He laughed to himself, picking up some of the mess and putting it on the boy’s desk. Then, knowing that it would frustrate Mikey, he reached for the duvet and yanked it away with full force, uncovering the entirely naked boy lying on his front underneath.
Guy’s eyes flew to the little rounded pads of flesh on Mikey’s side, the skin starting to crease and mark the area more clearly: love handles, without a shadow of a doubt. “Ho, ho!” he blasted in amusement. “Look at you!” he marvelled, reaching his big hand down onto his neighbor’s glute and finding it was squishy and significantly bouncier, with clearly added mass to it. “Someone is actually getting chubby!” he teased, absolutely astonished with the difference. That skinny little ass was gone, replaced with something much more meaty and even a little feminine.
Despite his tiredness, Mikey wrigged with arousal at the touch as Guy began playing with the softness that even spread down into his thighs. He rolled over; his erection already sizable as he tried to open his eyes and look towards Guy, even with the harsh light coming in through the window behind him.
What was happening to Mikey’s chest? Guy inspected further. The nipples seemed softer and the blubbery build up in the boy’s love handles was further spread across his stomach, deepening his belly button. “Stand up,” Guy demanded. “I want to look at you properly.”
Mikey did as he was told, Guy placed his hands on the boy’s shoulders, guiding him over to the mirror, so that he could see all angles at once.
“Fuck!” Guy laughed, seeing what a transformation had been silently happening behind his back. He felt proud. The biggest complaint people had about Mikey, here in the dorms, was that he was a fairly dull and boring person. Well, look at him now! This was hardly boring. The kinky little fucker was actually doing something none of them would ever have the guts to do. “I’m pleased,” Guy told him honestly, looking at his face in the reflection. “How does it feel for you?”
At this Mikey’s hands began exploring himself, grabbing at the fat and jiggling where he could with the tips of his fingers. “Amazing!” he whispered back, bursting with arousal.
“Well then…” Guy smiled, placing his hand back on Mikey’s chubby glute: his favorite new feature by far. “...You have to keep going,” he stated. “Keep eating and eating. Add more and more fresh fat onto this frame of yours.”
“I will,” Mikey nodded back obediently. “If it’s what you want. I’ll keep going as far as I can!”
Guy had never seen Mikey’s dick dribbling with arousal so easily. If this weight gain and submission was what aroused him so much, there was no way he could let it stop. “It’s what I want,” Guy agreed. “I want you to grow a proper fat belly, just for me.”
The pair kissed. Guy had never felt Mikey moan and collapse into him quite so much; like a ragdoll, ready to be played with.
“I know what’ll help…” Guy laughed, pulling down his pants and tugging on his own semi-erection until it was pumped and hard. “Let’s lubricate your throat ready for a full day of eating,” he joked cheekily.
Immediately, Mikey slipped to his knees. His jaws opened and he hungrily took the whole of Guy’s enormous erection down his throat like no one else on campus could. It took Guy by surprise each time, how instantaneous the pleasure was. He had to spread his legs a little more and reach one hand out to steady himself on the wall for fear that he may fall over. He didn’t need to press Mikey’s head into his crotch. The boy needed no guidance in the slightest. It was all just so perfect.
An involuntary moan escaped Guy’s lips. Now that his fuck buddy was getting fat, he wouldn’t have to worry about someone trying to steal him away. Mikey’s mouth was all his.
No one on campus was aware that Guy and Mikey were anything more than casual acquaintances, and so no one was cautious about discussing Mikey weight gain around Guy. The overall feeling was one of amusement. In many ways, it was understandable. Mikey had indeed been incredibly thin at the start of the year and he was heading towards the summer looking significantly softer and padded. For the most part, Guy simply ignored it, or tried to move the conversations away. He wasn’t about the campus drama and the behind the scenes bad-mouthing like some of the others. Sure, people were going to talk, but they didn’t have the full story in the same way that Guy did.
The final football game of the season arrived and Guy was pumped for it. He didn’t get nervous like the others seemed to. He was also bigger than everyone else on the field, not weighed down by excess weight, making him lighter on his feet than the opposition ever expected from him. He’d been buzzing the entire morning, heading to the gym for a full session despite the advice from his coach to rest that morning. He simply had too much energy to spare. He knocked on Mikey’s door wondering whether the boy was up for a little fun before he had to leave. Unlike everyone else in the dorms, Mikey never came down to the games. He simply wasn’t into sports, and that was fair enough. In fact, Mikey seemed entirely oblivious to the fact that it was even taking place that day, answering the door and ushering Guy inside excitedly.
“Look what I bought!” the chubby boy smiled, leading Guy over to his desk where a large, round cake sat waiting for a party of twenty people to come in and start feasting upon it. “I’m going to try and eat it all this afternoon!” he beamed.
Guy chuckled to himself, seeing the erection already pressing against Mikey’s sweatshorts. “You go for it, buddy!” he smiled, clapping the boy on his back. His enthusiasm for overeating and putting on weight was almost infectious at times. He lifted the plastic lid and swept his finger around the edge, gathering a decent amount of cream which Mikey excitedly sucked off.
“Do you want to feed it to me?” Mikey asked, pulling his shirt off to reveal his softening torso.
Inwardly, Guy sighed with disappointment. How long would that take? He had to leave in twenty minutes or so, and if Mikey’s mouth was going to be occupied that entire time, there was no chance of a quick blow job. 
“How about…” Guy began, lifting his own shirt off and dropping his shorts and underwear, “...we both have a little fun at the same time?”
“What did you have in mind?” Mikey asked, watching as Guy pulled out the lubricant from the drawer and squirted it into his hand.
Guy looked down at him with a smirk. Then he reached a hand into Mikey’s crack and began preparing the area, making the boy moan with arousal as his large fingers brushed and gently penetrated. Mikey pulled down his underwear to help him and was soon leaning into it so much that Guy could give him a decent warm up.
Having a firm press down on his back, Mikey obediently slipped onto all fours. Guy reached for the cake and placed it underneath the boy’s face. “Ready?” he asked, reaching for Mikey’s jaw, as if loosening it up for better movement and stretch.
Mikey’s eyes were on the prize. His head was lowered down into it, perhaps more than he was expecting, his nose now pressing into the sponge and his tongue lapping it all up with ferocious speed.
Guy assumed his position, grabbing a condom, sliding his hardness into Mikey’s gaping butt and sighing with pleasure. As blessed as most people told him he was with such a large dick, Guy found he was rarely allowed to settle into his own good rhythm when penetrating. There was simply too much of him to handle. WIth Mikey, however, the boy just seemed to relax so much, it was like total freedom for Guy. After wincing the initial time they had tried this, Mikey took to it with ease. He was the only one Guy could properly deliver what he referred to as a ‘thorough pounding’.
Through the mirror, Guy could see that Mikey’s face was now covered in cake as he tried to gorge himself at the same time as his body was getting pumped from behind. Guy laughed, happy to take the control that Mikey offered up so willingly. “Come on!” he chuckled. “You can do better than that!” he called out encouragingly, seeing Mikey’s tongue scrabbling about trying to lick up as much as he could.
The fat on Mikey’s back had really come a long way since they had last done this. The love handles in particular seemed to ripple and bounce out of sync with the rest of his body. The bones in his shoulder blades were less severe and an emerging softness appeared to be forming just under his arms. However, the boy’s butt was the centerpiece; the way it was spread so wide and felt so much softer to the touch as Guy gripped on.
A moan started emanating from Mikey. In the mirror, his eyes were rolling up into his head. He began oinking - actually oinking, as he continued to gorge himself. Guy sped up. There was nothing he got off to more than seeing someone else genuinely getting lost in the moment. Mikey was letting go like never before.
“That’s it!” Guy cried out. “Oink like a pig!”
Without even a hand anywhere near his own hardness, it was obvious that Mikey was climaxing. His face fell upon the cake and he groaned louder than he ever had during sex before. The whole thing made the pleasure build upon Guy with rapid speed; almost taken by surprise as he felt himself squirt.
Guy wiped the sweat from his brow and sighed in relief. He’d rarely felt so completely satisfied before. He pulled out, stopping only momentarily to chuckle at the wide, gaping hole he left behind, then unpeeled the condom and began dressing himself. The mess was everywhere, cake smashed into the carpet that would take some time to scrub out.
“Thanks for that,” Guy smiled, looking down at the fat boy who had rolled onto his doughy rear and not even attempted to clean any of the cake off his face yet. He too seemed to be enjoying momentary bliss, grabbing at the first roll of his fattened stomach like it was the most precious thing in the world. Guy’s work was done here.
During the summer months, Guy had sweet talked his way into an internship with a local company, hoping to boost his CV for when he finished his degree in a further two years. He didn’t need to be told that his pretty face would be an asset for the company, but he was surprised at how much more he was interacting with the clients than the others in his position. A well fitting shirt and a tight pair of pants never failed to make things easier for him to charm pretty much everyone he was around. He’d briefly dated a couple of girls, wanting to experience the steamy ‘summer love’ of his old high school days. However, Guy was not about to settle down for anyone.
Mikey, meanwhile, had taken a job at a fast food restaurant back in his hometown; returning to campus that year looking like he hadn’t stopped eating the entire time. Quite a few of them had applied to stay in the dorms and been successful, but there was still plenty of fresh meat for Guy to enjoy about the place.
Guy remembered being quite taken aback when he saw the full stomach on Mikey after their time apart. It had morphed from a tight paunch to a full starter gut, complete with pointed and juicy-looking nipples. Had the boy seriously eaten nothing but fast food all summer? A simple rub of Mikey’s stomach or jiggle of his fleshy rear never failed to get the new chub horny, and Guy was all in for that. He thought back to the previous year and how forward he’d had to be with shy Mikey just to let him know that he was interested. Sex had not been a part of Mikey’s life before then, and now look at him: his entire body turned into a playhouse of his kinkiest sexual fantasies! Guy felt nothing but pride.
“You knew Mikey from last year, right?” asked Samantha, a clearly high-maintenance fresher girl who had moved in last week. “Maybe you can get through to him.”
“Why?” Guy asked, wondering what seemed to be so urgent.
“You need to let him know that we don’t want to see his belly hanging out anymore. He’s just bent down into the refrigerator and I had about four inches of his butt crack staring back at me!”
Guy laughed. “Is that all?” he sighed in relief. “I thought something was wrong.”
Samantha exhaled in shock. “Something is wrong!” she blasted. “He can’t be allowed to keep walking around in clothes that are that tight! It’s disgusting!”
“Leave him be,” Guy shrugged. “You don’t need to be around him if you don’t want to.”
“There are some guys who make fun of him on his course,” Samantha pressed on. “If he’d just wear a damn sweatshirt or something to try and make himself look like less of a target, I’m sure they’d leave him alone.”
At this, Guy stood up from his chair, suddenly filled with anger. “Who’s been making fun of him?” he demanded, ready to go and see to them, right there and then.
“Mikey is the one who needs speaking to!” Samantha shot back. “Go ask him who the guys are. Maybe you can talk some sense into him.”
Shaking his head with annoyance, Guy stormed down the corridor and let himself into Mikey’s room without even knocking. The boy was sitting at his desk, still pushing a large tray of cream cakes he had collected from the refrigerator when he had offended Samantha so much. He turned in surprise, seeing Guy bursting in on him like this.
“Who’s making fun of you on your course?” Guy asked, closing the door behind him.
Mikey smiled; his chubby cheeks and chin showing all the more. “Oh, you heard about that?” he chuckled. “A couple of the new freshmen: Dan and Alec.”
“You’ll need to point them out to me,” Guy demanded, clearly annoyed. “I’ll soon sort them out.”
Mikey’s face was one of pure amusement. “Not everything is a problem that needs fixing,” he simply replied, pushing a cream cake into his mouth.
“What is it they say to you?” Guy pressed on.
Mikey chewed and swallowed. “Oh, lots of things!” he giggled. “Fat Boy, Pig, Piggy, Lardass!”
Guy could feel his heart beating faster with frustration However, Mikey seemed entirely relaxed and happy. “Wait a minute…” Guy stopped him. “Is this one of those things..?” he pondered. “Are you… Do you get off on this? The guys treating you that way?”
Mikey raised his eyebrows cheekily, not needing to say anything further.
“That’s why your clothes are so tight this year, isn’t it? You actually want people to comment?” Guy asked next, feeling like he had delved further than ever before into the mind of his part-time lover.
Again, Mikey only pressed a cake into his mouth and smirked.
Guy felt all the pent-up frustration in him release. A great wave of affection for Mikey swept through him and he reached out a hand to pull the chubby boy up from his chair, leaning him back into his great arms like he was trying to seduce him all over again. “You’re the kinkiest little fucker I’ve ever come across,” he smiled with delight. “You know that right?”
Mikey swallowed and grinned back. “You started this,” he stated, rubbing his easily accessible belly fat as his overly short t-shirt rode up.
Guy looked down at the boy’s gut and nodded. “I sure did!” he teased. “And what a good piggy you’ve turned out to be!” he smirked, trying the word out now he knew a little more about how it excited Mikey.
The chub seemed to melt into him further. They kissed and then quickly undressed for the inevitable.
The Spring was upon them once again as Guy invited Mikey over to his room for a quiet evening together. Mikey always seemed more aroused to be in Guy’s room for whatever reason. Perhaps it was the knowledge that Guy had fucked and pleasured so many people between those sheets of his. The large athlete was sitting propped up against the headboard, romantically caressing Mikey as he leant against his naked chest and watched a movie with him.
Watching movies was not usually Guy’s thing. He’d often been accused of having an attention difficulty in school, making him restless and troublesome in class, despite the high grades he always came away with. But here, with Mikey, Guy felt complete relaxation, rubbing that fat stomach that had been grown for him and laughing together at the funny parts of the picture.
“There’s actually a gainer event happening not too far away in a couple of months,” Mikey explained, scrolling through his cell phone.
“When is it?” Guy asked. “I can take you.”
Mikey mumbled nervously. “I’m not so sure it’s my thing…” he fretted. “I’d be too nervous.”
At this, Guy laughed. “Nervous? You?” He rubbed Mikey’s large stomach. The boy was now a full one hundred and twenty pounds heavier than he had been when the pair met over eighteen months ago, standing at a full two hundred and sixty pounds despite his fairly average height. He’d battled name-calling, family disapproval and public wardrobe malfunctions aplenty. “You’re the bravest person I know.” 
Again, Mikey grumbled in disagreement.
Guy quickly did an internet search on his cell phone and found it himself. “There!” he declared a minute later, putting his cell phone back on the bed beside him. “Two tickets. One for me, and one for my lardass!” he teased, kissing Mikey on the back of his head and squeezing him once more. “I’lll book us a nice hotel later too.” Picking up a few modelling jobs had definitely helped make Guy’s life a little easier of late, and there was no one who deserved a treat more.
As the date approached, Mikey had gone into a frenzy of calorie consuming, determined to look the part for a gainer event. The boy was just a frustrating couple of pounds shy of three hundred when Guy took his chubby little hand and led him inside. 
Guy had never seen so many huge men in the same room and they eyed him suspiciously until they saw that his hand was placed appreciatively on Mikey’s broad butt as they stood to the side of the dancefloor.
“There are still quite a few small guys,” Guy whispered to Mikey, who had been worried about not being fat enough for weeks. “A few dad bods with only a little gut to show for themselves.”
Mikey nodded, feeling better and more relaxed as others started coming up to them, wanting to know their story.
“That person’s been checking you out all night,” Guy nodded over at a slender and handsome man in the corner.
“No he hasn’t,” Mikey shot back.
“Trust me, when people aren’t checking me out, I notice,” Guy replied. “He’s definitely interested in you.”
Mikey smiled, rather flattered.
“Who knows, he might be open to a little…” Guy winked, having learned recently that Mikey had a small fantasy about having a threesome. Guy waved his arm and beckoned the man over to them, despite Mikey’s nervous protests.
The admirer introduced himself as Henry and he admitted to having attended plenty of these types of events in the last few years. “What’s your weight?” he asked Mikey; an outrageous question in any other circumstances but these.
Guy jumped in to answer. “He’s just hit three-twenty,” he lied. He was only one hundred and forty pounds two years ago.”
“That’s impressive!” Henry nodded, clearly more interested than ever.
“He’s been a high achiever his whole life,” Guy smiled, wrapping his strong large arm over Mikey’s shoulders with pride.
Henry wanted to know more about their situation and circumstances. Were they an item? Was it casual? Was Guy really a feeder? But when the time came to ask him if he wanted to come back to the hotel with them, Henry did not decline. They stopped for takeout on the way, with Henry very clearly getting off on how much Mikey was able to eat: being so assertive with the chub, clearly setting high expectations from the start. Then they all headed back, making every pleasurable second all about Mikey; just as he deserved.
At the end of another summer, Guy and Mikey embarked upon their final year of college. Mikey’s weight had continued to creep up, with his face now properly framed by a large double chin and his upper arms finally starting to puff up and broaden him up a bit.
“I actually met up with Henry a couple of times this summer,” Mikey explained casually as the pair of them lay awkwardly facing each other on the narrow single bed in Guy’s room.
Guy instantly felt ashamed of the giant wave of jealousy that washed over him. He’d slept with a countless number of people during their casual sex games of the last two years, yet he begrudged Mikey even this little thing in return. Still, he tried not to show his feelings, diligently asking questions and smiling encouragingly, as if this was all positive news.
“Henry really knows how to push me to eat,” Mikey went on. “I’ve never eaten as much in my life! And it was all the type of stuff that he knew would only make me fatter.”
Guy nodded, concealing the inadequacy he felt. He’d never really been what Mikey had wanted. He only knew the absolute basics of the feedism kink Mikey was so into and had, for the most part, got away without having to sit through many of the tedious feeding sessions Mikey seemed to enjoy so much. This whole affair with Mikey had started because Guy hadn’t wanted anyone to take the champion blow-job boy away from him, yet he had unknowingly opened the floodgates during that fairly average threesome he had been a part of back at the gainer event. “Are you meeting up with him again?” he asked casually.
“He’s coming here in December,” Mikey squeaked excitedly. “But he’s given me strict instructions to continue to eat and grow before then. I honestly think he wants me to be absolutely huge!”
Guy smiled back at him, despite the sadness he felt. Mikey was undoubtedly slipping away from him.
That December, Guy had been away with the football team during the weekend of Henry’s visit. Even so, Mikey’s weight had continued to increase at an almost alarming rate, both before and after the feeder had called over. It had been spurred on by the many messages and video calls the pair had made, despite the great geographical distance between them. Guy had so many other things on his mind, he tried to convince himself that it didn’t bother him, but he was never fully successful. Mikey himself was now entirely unrecognisable, coated with giant amounts of fat all over his body. His frame had widened, with fat spilling out from his round gut and his nipples sagging right onto his swollen midsection. He walked slowly about the campus, usually carrying a backpack filled with fattening supplies from the nearby supermarket in order to further his weight gain. Likewise, Henry had begun ordering fast food to the dorms, increasing Mikey’s intake even more and ensuring that the boy had surpassed three hundred and eighty pounds by April.
Guy knew that he couldn’t get away with avoiding Henry a second time when he stopped by for an entire week that Spring, just before the final exam season got underway. The conversation was polite, but it was obvious that Henry wanted more time alone with Mikey, rather than having Guy tagging along.
“Let’s be real…” Henry stated at the end of the week, taking advantage of the fact that Mikey had gone to the bathroom at the restaurant he was treating the two of them to a meal at. “You’re not actually a feeder, are you?”
“What does that matter?” Guy shrugged. “I’ve done pretty well getting Mikey’s weight up. He would still be that skinny little twig if it wasn’t for me.”
Henry shook his head and laughed. “No he wouldn’t!” he replied dismissively. “Mikey is a fat boy, through and through! I’ve never come across anyone like him. If you hadn’t been there, he would have found some other excuse to start piling the pounds on. It’s just in him. He’s meant to be absolutely enormous.”
Guy didn’t have a response. In reality, he’d known as much from the very beginning. Mikey had never needed much encouragement to overeat, and he’d always seemed propelled to fatten by some force greater than a basic kinky subservience kink to Guy himself.
“I’m going to ask him to move with me to Phoenix when he finishes college next month,” Henry announced; his tone one of uncompromising assertiveness.
“Phoenix?” Guy gasped in alarm. “But I’ll never see him!”
“What the hell did you think he was going to do when he finished college? You’ve got a job lined up here in the city, but what is there for Mikey? He doesn’t have any family here. You really expected him to just hang around for you?”
Guy exhaled, knowing that they couldn’t carry the conversation on with the fattened Mikey trotting back towards the table. He ground his teeth together, wondering how best to fight this plan to uproot Mikey’s entire life and move him to Phoenix. But then he witnessed the boy’s delight the next day as Henry made the offer, and witnessed the tears days later as Henry had to leave him once more. It was over. Mikey had found the one he was really meant to be with.
“You’ll come and visit me, right?” Mikey asked as Guy dropped the last of Mikey’s stuff in the back of Henry’s truck a few weeks later.
“Of course I will,” Guy nodded, trying to hold back on how cut up he felt that his time with Mikey was now over. “Just you try and stop me!”
The pair hugged warmly.
Next, Henry came up and shook Guy’s hand. Despite the silent animosity between them, there was an air of respect. Henry had been right, after all. Mikey needed a lot more than Guy could give him. This was the life that the fat boy coveted and deserved. But Henry was no idiot either. He knew what Guy was giving up; that he had fallen in love with the boy, and that his love was not returned; at least, not in the same way.
“Come on, Fatso!” Henry smiled, patting Mikey on his wide, blubbery butt. “We’d best hit the road.”
Guy stood looking into the distance long after the truck went out of sight. One very massive chapter of his life had just ended, and another was about to begin.
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manikas-whims · 5 months ago
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Love and Deepspace men when you fall asleep on their shoulder
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ZAYNE
❄️ The moment Zayne realises you've fallen asleep on his shoulder, he's frozen stiff in spot for a moment.
❄️ He is very touched that you trust him enough to freely fall asleep on his shoulder. He doesn't even realize but he's smiling to himself.
❄️ Slowly he moves away so as to not disturb your sleep. Then equally cautiously he carries you like a princess to the bedroom (even if it's his house). There, he tucks you in and makes sure you're comfortable before leaving the room.
❄️ The next morning you wake up to find yourself in bed and immediately rush to the living room. And Zayne is right there, his tall frame awkwardly asleep on the small couch.
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XAVIER
⭐ So you fell asleep on Xavier's shoulder? Well good luck with that. He's also fallen asleep, his head leaning against yours.
⭐ You idiots remain like that for the rest of the night.
⭐ The next morning you both wake up to aching limbs from the horrible postures you'd both slept in.
⭐ Fortunately, at least you're blessed with the sight of his gorgeous and messy bed hair. He however, finds you've drooled on his shirt and is chuckling at your flustered face.
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RAFAYEL
🌊 He scoffs when he finds you asleep on his shoulder without a care. How can you let down your guard so easily? How can you be so trusting of someone like him?
🌊 Still, he cautiously moves aside and adjusts your body fully on the couch. He brings over a duvet and puts it over you and also tucks away the hair strands that are getting in your eyes.
🌊 He himself settles on the floor mat right next to you, watches you intently in the quiet of the night, then brings out his sketchpad.
🌊 You wake up to find him asleep with his head resting on the couch; pencil in one hand and an open sketchpad in the other. Curiously you pry the open sketchpad from his fingers and your eyes fall upon the sketch of a girl with closed eyes. YOU. It's a sketch of you sleeping peacefully on his couch.
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i have an exam on 25th June and i need to revise properly for it, so the LADS posts may get slower. Apologies for that 😓
i'm still working on the LADS requests you all sent me. All the requests are amazing and unique 😍 can't wait to share them! ♡
SEND ME REQUESTS FOR LOVE & DEEPSPACE HEADCANONS VIA ASKS.
» MASTERLIST «
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turnfires-secret · 2 months ago
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Kinich x top male reader? Imagine that Kinich limps a little after their night with reader, and while reader is trying to make amends, Ajaw makes fun of them in every possible way. That would be fun lmao😭
Anon ilysm i've been craving a reason to write ajaw for days now and I finally get my excuse!
This isn't really smut tho... sorry if I've disappointed anyone!
Payment Due | Kinich X Male Reader
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It’s beyond hot inside your shared bedroom. How long had the two of you been at it? Neither you nor Kinich could recall. Kinich has buried his face into the crook of his arm again, trying to keep himself quiet. It doesn’t bring the Turnfire hunter any sort of mercy from the ruthless unending pleasure plaguing his mind, seeing as you just start fucking him harder fueled by the desire to listen to the whorish sounds that slipped from his mouth.
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When Kinich wakens the next morning he’s met with a terrible sticky sensation and… as per usual, the most aggravating sound Kinich had heard in his whole life.
“Ew! You humans really are disgusting! I’d have never expect my own servant to engage in such… foul, vile, unholy, unsanitary acts of sacrilege in the close presence of the mighty dragon lord, Ku’hul Ajaw! “
Attempting to ignore Ajaw’s incessant yapping, Kinich takes a deep breath and gets up out of bed… Only to realize the pain and agony that came with such a task. Actually, phrasing it that way is abit too… dramatic. What he was actually facing was the aches and pains of post sex. Kinich is limping, and (to make the situation worse) Ajaw notices. 
“Oh? Did that puny human you drool over fuck you that hard to the point you can’t walk straight?! Wait- Meheheheh! maybe today’s my lucky day! You should go outside and try fight a pack of those idiotic tribal warriors and die!”
“I’m not that stupid, now leave me alone”
Kinich replied, taking yet another deep breath before going to the bathroom and taking a shower. The dendro user finishes his shower, feeling much more refreshed and awake despite the fact he’s still limping. Changing into some fresh clothes he feels your arms around his waist and your head nuzzle into his shoulder. 
“Well good morning to you too”
“Mhhh~ Kinichhh why are you up so early….?”
To Kinich, the sound of your voice was always the best part of his day.
“It’s far from early my love, Infact, it’s 11 am”
“Still too early…”
“EW, DISGUSTING LOVE BIRDS, YOU MAKE ME SICK!”
Theres a pause in the room before you and Kinich both decide to once more completely ignore the yelling pixelized projection. 
“Moving on, you, should be paying me compensation.”
Even though your voice was the best medicine for the aloof warrior, you were still not exempt from his habit of counting costs. To Kinich, it seems his aching grievance was enough to warrant payment.
“Wh- payment?!”
“Because of your prior actions i now find it hard to walk normally, so personally, i think you should pay the prince, no?”
“Personally i think you should charge them has much as you can, Kinich!” (Ajaw says, bardging into the conversation only to get ignored)
“Wh- Alright then~ For payment how about… we go another round?”
You respond, your voice now holding that seductive tone you seemed to enjoy using with him. 
His neck is sensitive after last night’s activities. You bite down, hard enough for him to feel it. Such an action’s associations mixed with such sensitivity forced a needy whine from Kinich’s throat, aswell as changes the Turnfire warrior’s mind. 
“... fine, i have time to spare… just… be abit more gentle this time, will you?”
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kaiserio · 15 days ago
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❄︎ bllk drabbles - cuddle time!
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ft. shidou & nagi
Some lil drabbles about cuddles with these guys 🩵
cw: shidou (a cw in itself), shidou’s is sexual, minors please dni with this post!
not proofread, sryyy!
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❄︎ Shidou - oh man, most of the time - even a sweet cuddle with this crazy fella turns into one hell of a ride. I mean that literally and figuratively.
He always has the best intentions, of course he does. We all know how Shidou worships those he loves.
In the morning, you always wake up to him already being wide awake. Has he even slept?
He has you pulled flush against his naked body, face buried into your neck leaving sloppy open-mouthed kisses on your skin. And - of course - there it is, his dick is rock solid and he’s grinding against your ass.
“How ‘bout it, Angel? You want it, hm?” He growls into your ear and nipping at your lobe.
To Shidou, there’s no better way to start the day than a round (or three) of being buried inside his better half.
Shidou isn’t ALWAYS sexual. One thing his relationship with you has taught him, is to read the room - even just ever so slightly.
He knows your mannerisms like the back of his hand. The way your brow furrows ever so slightly when you’re upset, or how you chew your inner cheek when you’re anxious, or the way you shut down when you’re overstimulated. As soon as he notices any of these reactions from you, his first instinct is to protect.
If you’re in public, he will pull you into him and wrap his arms around you in a bone crushing hug.
“I just love you SOOOO much. If you don’t hug me I’ll die or some shit, Angel, I swear.” He’s loud, he’s annoying, he’s clingy, but he does the best job of distracting you from any negative emotions that you’re feeling. It’s a secret super power of his that he should be proud of!
If you’re in private? Good luck! He’s smothering you. If you’re sitting or laying down, he’s on top of you. If you’re standing up, he has his arms wrapped around your shoulders and he’s trying to wrap his legs around your waist. Does he even realise how much bigger he is? Most of the time, these events always end with you both in a heap on the floor, him cackling feverishly whilst you admonish him for being an idiot.
But hey, Shidou is Shidou, you signed up for this! 🫵
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❄︎ Nagi - When I tell you this lazy boy was made for cuddles. Just look at how soft he is.
In your relationship, you’re the early riser. Despite being awake first, Nagi doesn’t want to let you go in the mornings. He’ll wrap an arm lazily over your waist and rest his head on your chest (bonus points if you stroke his hair for him, like he’s just a big floofy cat).
No matter what the occasion is, how busy you are, whatever mood you’re in, Nagi is ALWAYS down for some cuddle time. Out with friends? Every half hour he’ll suggest going home to cuddle on the sofa. Got guests over at your place? He’s texting you asking when do you think they’ll leave bc he wants to go lay in bed with you.
He is your own personal koala bear. Always soft and always willing to do what you want to do (as long as it involves some form of horizontal time).
In the winter; he’s your heater. He’s always so warm, you just don’t get it. On particularly cold nights he will wrap you both up in a blanket like a little double burrito and his warmth takes all your problems away (you always fall asleep like this, and he’ll never tell you but he loves it.)
All in all, this cutie pie is just a little cuddle bug. We 🩵 him over here.
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cdragons · 10 months ago
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Fuck Everything, But Mostly Fuck You
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Next Part
Summary: You have never, EVER, in a million years hated anyone the way you hated Felix fucking Catton.
Warnings- MDNI 18+, Felix is delulu, Reader is stressed and homesick and kinda crazy but she a baddie, Michael is Michael, Farleigh is Farleigh, Oliver will be Oliver (a creep), and author has spent too much time researching Oxford crap for this mess for a crack fic to be a crack fic
Author's Note: This fic is a follow-up to this post and I would like to thank grammarly for catching all my grammatical errors 🥲, @ethereal-athalia for enabling my crazy ideas 🥰, and @valeskafics for providing me Saltburn smut when I catch myself thirsting 😇
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“FUCK!” you yelled at the top of your lungs just before your nose slammed down on the dewy grass.
Groaning in pain before the mortification of realizing what had just happened kicked in.
You didn’t know what was worse: the fact you had a full front view of the giant’s junk or that he body-slammed you onto the ground and caused you to land on top of the painting worth 30% of your final grade.
You wanted to scream your head off. The paint had finally dried, and you could finally leave the studio at two in the morning. It was close to finals, and pretty much anyone on campus who didn’t get accepted because of their daddy’s bank account was in their dorms. You had hoped that this fact would mean that the paths were empty and, therefore, safe to transport your 30” x 40” canvas.
“SORRY!”
You shot your head up to locate the person who just apologized. Lo’ and behold, it was the same plastered, pasty cunt with a bird’s nest disaster of a haircut drunken idiot who decided it was a good idea to go streaking across campus. His only other distinguishable features were that he was at least 6’3” and that he had a small steel piece pierced on his face.
After the “apology,” he and his friend continued running off to God’s knows where in the dead of night—leaving you behind on the lawn with a bleeding nose, bruised knees and palms, and an oil painting that was torn and caked in mud three days before its deadline.
There was no way to redo it. The project was assigned at the beginning of October. It took 5 hours to set up the models with the motifs and lights, 3 hours to take pictures, and 10 hours to underdraw the preliminary sketch. You didn’t even want to think about the sheer number of sleepless nights you spent in the studio mixing colors and layering. On top of that, you also had your other finals in other courses to study for.
You had practically been living in that studio for the past month. All of the custodians and security guards knew you by name. You got first dibs every day when they refilled the vending machines. It was a true godsend when you didn’t have time to visit the dining halls. Everyone had been so kind and sweet to you. It was a warm welcome compared to the snark and snobbery you experienced from most of your classmates.
Crying from the devastation of the loss of your situation, your shaking legs carried your body and what remained of your work into the building. You knew that your professor stayed in her office late for grading. You could only hope that she would sympathize with your pitiful appearance.
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“Wait, so did you get the extension?”
Lifting your head from the sticky library table at Bodleian’s, you stared at your best only friend, Michael Gavey, with a blank stare. You didn’t react to his wince after he took in your haggard appearance. You didn’t need a mirror to know that you looked terrible.
Your eyes were puffy and bloodshot red with dark mulberry bags underneath them. You had paled since coming to dreary England, but now you looked straight-up sickly. And if that wasn’t enough, your eyes had less life than a dead fish rotting at a Sunday Market.
Your voice was so meek that you were sure he had to strain to hear you.
“Yeah…I got it.”
You knew you had no choice but to beg your Studio Arts professor for an extension. But it killed you doing it. Professor Daria Martin was your favorite teacher and the only faculty member who actually liked you. Her support toward you meant everything to you; the last thing you wanted to do was disappoint her, let alone be the reason why she lost her job.
Your usually so snarky four-eyed friend perked up at the news.
“So, is everything okay?” he asked with hope.
Your head fell on neon-yellow ink-stained pages that filled the paperweight your ethics professor called a textbook. A bitter laugh fell from as your lips lifted to a wry, dry grin.
“Oof, not that simple, is it?” he asked.
“Is it ever?”
“So what do you have to do now?”
“Well-,” you lifted your head to take a deep breath as you started to explain, “- I still have the photos and copies of the sketch. But because the canvas was so large, it was special-ordered. That means I need to wait until another one can be delivered, and since all the works need to be completed in the studio, I can’t leave the campus.”
As you finished your explanation, Michael nodded his head in understanding before he paused, and a look of devastation painted his features.
“Wait, so does that mean-”
“I won’t be able to fly back home for the holidays.”
Fuck, you were about to cry again. You had been so excited to see your old friends and family. You remembered how absolutely homesick you were at the beginning of the term. Because you were a scholarship student from America, your parents encouraged you to settle on campus by moving to your dorm earlier than everyone else. It was bad enough that you missed Thanksgiving, but you had really set your heart on coming home for Christmas and New Year’s. What made it worse was that your parents had told you all about the dinner they had planned for your homecoming. It was going to be a feast of all your favorites.
English food sucked balls.
Your only saving grace was the Crunchie bars Michael got for you when you studied together or when you had to rewrite edit his essays.
You really DID cry after first reading his essay for Introductory English class at the beginning of the year.
“Did you try to report it?”
“Report what? ‘Hey, there’s a wasted asshole running naked across campus, and he body-slammed me to the ground and tore my fucking massive campus that blocked my view of the jackass. He’s probably richer than the goddamn Queen, given how he’s wasted right before finals.’”
“Do you have any description of him?”
“He’s a giant with a small eyebrow piercing, and his fat ass looked like it had never seen the sun.”
Without lifting your head, you heard the scrape of Michael’s chair before he walked across the table to sit in the chair next to you.
“Hey,” he began, bringing you into a warm arm hug, “it’ll be okay. You called your parents about it, right?”
“Yeah -” you sighed before continuing, “- they told me they understood and would Skype me daily.”
“See! Everything’s going to be – wait, did you say that this guy was tall?”
Furrowing your brow in confusion, you looked at your friend at the change in his tone from light and supportive to sharp and interrogative.
“Yeah?”
“How tall?”
“Umm,” you had to think about that, “I’d say he was about 6’3” or above? He was really fucking tall.”
“And he had an eyebrow piercing?”
Ok, now you were really confused. “Yes? Michael, where are you going with this?”
“I think the guy who ran you over was Felix Catton.”
You shot your favorite idiot with a deadpan glare.
“Felix Catton? The same Felix Catton who just so happens to be the same Felix Catton you hate?”
Michael solemnly nodded. “It’s him. It has to be. The only person on campus as tall as him is his cousin, and he doesn’t have piercings.”
“And he’s black.”
“Yeah, that too.”
You were skeptical, and it showed. You didn’t want to callously dismiss your friend, but you knew more than anyone how much his hatred for Oxford’s Golden Boy could impair his judgment. You were by no means a fan of the guy, but accusing someone of anything they didn’t do just because your friend thought so went against your principles.
He grabbed your arm and dragged you to the bookshelf in front of the table where Felix and his groupies sat. Both of your books and bags were in your chairs, but you managed to keep your spiral notebook with you. It wasn’t hard to find them – they were the loudest table in the entire library. They also reeked of cigarettes and booze.
“See?” Michael hissed. “Giant, pale, and eyebrow piercing. It’s him!”
“Michael,” you softly groaned, “just because you hate Felix Catton doesn’t mean you can –”
An extremely shrill voice interrupted you.
“I can’t believe you and Farleigh actually ran around campus naked!”
A petite girl with full pink lips and dull red hair latched on the arm of the man of the hour. “It was so hot to watch!”
This girl has weird-ass tastes in guys.
“And then how you crashed into that dunce at Ruskin! Brilliant!”
Your blood ran cold while another one of Catton’s faceless droning puppets chimed in.
“God, what an idiot! It’s their own fault, anyway. Who the fuck walks in the middle of the walk path with a fucking big canvas in front of them?”
One of the lessons hammered into your skull young was never to move before you think. That lesson had saved you ten ways from Sunday. But this was not one of those times.
You’re pretty sure that you hear Michael calling out your name as you walk away from the shelf and towards the overcrowded table. Tunnel vision took over you as you made your way to the overgrown idiot who almost cost you your entire future.
Grabbing the back of his shirt collar, you dragged the 6’5” towering fool on his ass all the way outside. You finally let go when the two of you reached the back of the building that had no windows.
“Hey, what the fu –”
You didn’t let him finish as you brought your fist to hit him square in the face – and, fuck, did you relish the crunch that immediately followed your swing.
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Fuck, was his head killing him.
Felix should have known better than to have gotten cross-faded last night, but Farleigh had practically goaded him to do it. It’s not like his cousin ever had to worry about his grades for any of his courses during finals – the little shit-starter had always been so fucking academically gifted.
He skipped pretty much all of his morning classes and barely made it to his afternoon schedule on time while completely zoning out the entire time.
If he bombs on all his finals, his dad was going to absolutely murder him. But chances were he and his mum were going to be too busy entertaining whichever new friend his mum brought in for shelter.
“You alright there, champ?”
Felix swiveled his head too quickly and immediately groaned in pain. The motion made his hangover even worse. Rubbing his eyes to try to soothe the pounding in his head, he slowly opened them to look at his cousin.
The slag didn’t have the decency to look even a little bit affected from last night’s event – the fucker. No, he was sitting there with all Cheshire grins and gleaming eyes while Felix was two seconds from heaving his guts out.
“Yeah, I’m alright, mate.” He replied in a tired groan.
“Must have been quite the night. Wonder if it had anything to do with that little cocktail you took from our sweet Annabel’s belly button?”
Disgust was clear on Felix’s face as he recalled the body shot he had taken from his ex-FWB’s navel. He truly must have been off his rocker last night – he thought he was over with body shots since graduating secondary, but apparently not.
If he somehow got an STD from doing it, V was going to kill him.
But even with all of his horrible actions that caused the raging war inside his skull, that wasn’t the main cause of his misery.
Farleigh’s grin dropped as judgment painted his features.
“Oh,” he moaned, “please tell me this isn’t about ‘your angel’ from last night.”
He didn’t just take the dare of streaking across the grounds just for the hell of it. He needed an excuse to pass through the art building – all for the chance of seeing you.
You. His angel of paints and books who lived in the empty studio rooms of Oxford University’s Ruskin School of Art and whose presence harangued him every hour of every day. Everywhere Felix went, he would unconsciously look for you.
It was his soul calling out for yours – he knew it.
Felix had never felt so drawn to another human being in his entire existence. He’d never seen you outside of the libraries, art building, and maybe the dining hall if he was lucky. You never went to any parties or even had a drink at the pub at King’s Arms. He didn’t even have classes with you, but he knew Farleigh did. Word was that you and his cousin had shared a few classes – what’s more was that you were likely the only person who could go head-to-head with him in academics.
And to make it worse, the prat refused to tell him anything about you – not even your fucking name.
“Believe me,” he told him after Felix had been begging his cousin for hours to share anything about you, “she is way above your league.”
Which really hurt his feelings, by the way – sure, you were probably way above in book smarts, but there wasn’t a girl that remained indifferent to his charms after a good talking fucking.
“I still can’t believe you won’t at least tell me her name,” Felix complained once more, “or even just give me her number!”
“She’s an American here on scholarship and a bore,” he quipped back, “what’s there to tell? And can you please shut up? I want to get some reading done before tonight. You do remember the in-class essay we have tomorrow, right?”
Bloody hell, he did not. Pushing down the bitter feeling in his chest, he and his cousin made their way to meet everyone at the back. As soon as he sat down, Annabel clung on to his arm. Thank fuck he had been wearing one of his thicker jumpers – otherwise, her claws that she called nails would have ripped open the fabric.
“Hey, Felix!” she made sure to offer a very generous sight of her cleavage, “are you ready for tonight?”
Felix chuckled lowly before responding. “Aren’t I always?”
And just like that – he completely zoned out the rest of the conversation.
Annabel was probably saying something to get him to notice her, and Farleigh was likely responding so he wouldn’t have to – but Felix couldn’t be bothered to pretend to care.
He was lost in the living daydream that was his angel that haunted the art studios of Ruskin School of Art.
He was desperate to learn everything about you.
If he asked you to talk about your favorite books, would your eyes sparkle in delight, or would your smile widen in glee?
If he grabbed your hand, would your palms feel marred by his rough skin, or would you press your callouses to his?
If he pressed his mouth on yours, would your lips feel as soft and plump as they look? Or was their luster forever damaged by your teeth biting them whenever you were in deep concentration?
If he breathed in your scent at the crook of your neck, would your skin smell like the paints forever on your brushes or the musky pages of heavy ancient books you always carried in your arms?
If he planted kisses from your throat to your breasts, would you mewl in pleasure or whimper in anticipation?
If he touched your cunt, would you arch your back in ecstasy? Or would your legs crumble, and you would have no choice but to sink into his arms?
Felix’s thoughts were rudely interrupted when Farleigh jammed his bony elbow into his ribcage and hurriedly whispered.
“Look alive, Golden Boy.”
Looking forward, it was better than any of his wet dreams combined. It was you.
Your hair was loose, and your fists were clenched. You reminded him of a ferocious lion goddess with how focused your gaze was on him.
But before Felix would prepare himself to make a good impression, you walked behind him and grabbed the back of his shirt collar before fucking dragging his ass out of his seat and outside.
Bloody hell, for someone so much shorter than him, you were fucking strong.
When you finally released your grip, he fell on the ground like an idiot before he tried to stand and steady himself as quickly as he could.
“Hey, what the fu –”
You didn’t let him finish as you brought your fist to hit him square in the face – and, fuck, you might have actually broken his nose.
After staggering back, you started using the spiral notebook in your other hand to land blow after painful blow on his body.
“YOU. STUPID. FUCKING. INGRATE –” Each word that left your mouth was emphasized with another hit from your notebook “– I. HATE. YOU. YOU. RUINED. MY. PAINTING. I. SPENT. SO. MUCH. TIME. ON. IT. AND. NOW. I. CAN’T. GO. HOME. FOR. BREAK. BECAUSE. OF. YOUR. STUPID. SELF!”
Felix was confident you had more to say, but you were pulled off him by your friend – he’s pretty sure it’s Mitchell – by the waist with you kicking and screaming out profanities to him as your friend called out your name to try to calm you down.
He wondered what it said about him if he told anyone how much you looked like an angry cat. His parents would send him to a shrink if he told them how adorable he found you right now.
If you were this wild while fighting, he could only imagine how riled up you would get in bed.
Fuck, you might have just unlocked a new kink in him.
Catching his breath as he watched your friend drag you away into the distance, he heard a slow clap to his left.
Farleigh was leaning on the corner – his smug expression making it clear that he had seen the whole thing – as he looked at his cousin with a bemused expression before walking toward him and giving a sympathetic pat on his back.
“Well,” he started to break the tension, “at least you know her name.”
“Yeah,” Felix agreed, “I know her name.”
And he knew that you smelled more like the paints on your brushes than the books you carried with subtle notes of gardenias.
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Tagging: @aemondsbabe, @ethereal-athalia, @aphroditesmoon, @barbiedragon, @valeskafics, @lexyysworld, @punkiwiki, @saltburnedme, @arcielee
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ma1dita · 9 months ago
Text
play pretend
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a ‘partners in crime’ installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader
words: 5.1k (holy shit)
summary: (established relationship…at the end of it lol) suggestive in nature but sfw , underage drinking what do you expect from a dionysus!kid, mentions of vomit The one where Mr. D catches you two in the act, but you and him aren't exactly together yet. Everyone knows you two are together except the both of you, apparently. It’s hard to not run away from something good. (luke castellan x dionysus!reader)
a/n: happy first i love you to you and luke! yall are together now! crazy! thanks for being patient during my lil vacay :)) its been a little over a month since i started the trouble!verse!! ilysm
(posted 2/23 betad by my one and only @mrsaluado )
There’s something you’ve always loved about mornings.
Waking up with the first rays of light peeking through your window, the sun’s arms stretched around your sleepy frame pressing warm, featherlike kisses across the expanse of your back.
It almost feels real. 
Apollo must be feeling generous today, the heat of a warm breath brushing against your neck, and your alarm sounding an awful lot like soft snores. You ought to get up and close the blinds; it’s too damn bright. But your weighted blanket feels immensely heavier this morning as it envelopes your senses—smelling of citrus, musk, and a tangible dream of last night that seems to have stayed in bed with you. As soon as you try to untangle your legs from below the covers, warmth presses you deeper into the mattress with a…familiar sigh.
Your eyes pop open.
Quick and calculated, your eyes survey the surroundings of your room—the mop of licorice tresses nestled against the crook of your neck, both of your clothes scattered on the floor, as well as the alarm clock and a few other things knocked off your nightstand from Luke’s enthusiasm. The quiet of the morning is quickly disrupted when you hear two pairs of little hands pounding on your door, and for a moment you wonder if this is one of those hyper-realistic dreams that you don’t want to wake up from.
“Sissy! You missed breakfast,” Pollux bellows as Castor continues to slap his palms on the wood like a bongo drum.
The sheets start rustling as you squirm out of Luke’s grasp, bumping against the muscular ridges of his torso which brings him back to consciousness.
“Be out in a minute!” you slur against his shoulder, and he opens his eyes blearily at the sight of you sprawled over him to try to reach the alarm clock on the ground. As his eyes focus he can’t help but admire the planes of your body, soft and pretty in the morning light like a painting come to life. Waking up in one’s company has never felt more right, even with the usual chatter of campers wafting through the open window. Here in the swaddle of pink and purple sheets, you two are something singular—not camp counselors with jobs to do, not demigods wanting to achieve glory, just your Angelface and his Trouble. 
It’s intimate, even if it doesn’t have a label, him and you.
His large hand catches you at the plush of your tummy when you almost topple off the bed.
“Shit. Shit! They’re not kidding—Luke, it’s 9:30!”
You fling yourself upwards and off of him, clambering to find clothes from your dresser and tossing him his from the day prior. His belt buckle almost hits him in the eye and he groans, flinching as it smacks him in the cheek.
“Gods, woman. You think camp will crumble because you slept in for once?” 
The glare you throw in his direction is his answer, so Luke slowly tugs his pants on–though he quickly gets distracted by a half-dressed vision of you rummaging around your room.
“Castellan.”
He grins like a little kid in a candy store, and to that, you throw his shoe at him. 
Idiot. 
Too bad you’re in deep shit for sleeping in.
“SISSY!!!” 
“IN A FUCKING MINUTE, THING ONE AND TWO!” 
Screaming at the closed door as you throw some shorts on, you spin around and bump into Luke who’s already got his hands around your waist as his nose nudges the space between your jaw and your neck.
“You were supposed to leave before daybreak,” you sigh, a smile creeping onto your lips, “if you did as you were told, I wouldn’t have slept in.” Fake annoyance leaks through your voice though he knows it not to be true, he wouldn’t be able to latch onto you like this if you were. His nose continues to graze up towards your ear as he presses a kiss behind it—like how you both deal with your feelings and the truth nowadays, a hidden secret kept for both of your eyes only.
“Dunno Trouble…I can get used to waking up next to you,” he mumbles. You can feel the imprint of his smile searing into your skin.
Is this what going into cardiac arrest feels like? Genuine question.
You’ve both been sneaking around for the past few weeks, but neither of you has made anything official. They say it’s easier to fall for a friend rather than a stranger—to know someone so intimately (and now in more ways than one) should make falling the easy part. 
But that’s kind of the problem. 
Luke is your best friend—both knowing how the other feels from a single glance, so pray tell to all the gods on Olympus, why has this boy not asked you out yet? Whether this is all for fun or anything resembling a four-letter word that makes your brain go fuzzy, you think you’d rather swim in the Styx instead of putting yourself at a disadvantage. Love is scary, even if it’s Luke. 
Especially since it’s Luke.
His words make you stop in your tracks and you can hear your heart pounding in your ears, so you’re not dead… But the noise turns out to be one of the twins banging on the door again, and now you look like an asshole for taking too long to respond. Luke’s awkwardly looking at you now, tongue in cheek.
“Last warning,” one of your brothers teasingly croons, before the other continues, “Dad’s almost at the door! Your boyfriend’s gotta go or he’s dead…”
Your eyes widen in fear and Luke loosens his grip on your waist, unsure if you look like you’ve seen a ghost at the thought of him being called your boyfriend or the very real possibility of getting caught by your dad.
What a way to go, you two.
“Get out. You gotta go now, out the window!” 
You start pushing him towards the windowpane, your palms pressing against his marked-up and very bare back. 
Holy shit, he still doesn’t have a shirt and he looks like he got mauled by a hellhound. 
You can practically see the grapevines start to flourish outside your window. 
He’s too close for comfort, way too damn close, you think, but can’t reason if you mean Luke or your dad.
“Seriously?” 
He straddles the open window, and Luke doesn’t know what to feel about you pushing him away—it’s a feeling that’s foreign to him since he’s always by your side. 
“Sorry. I’ll make it up to you later angelface,” you mumble, pulling him in for a mind-numbing kiss that almost makes him slip off the rain gutter, and by the time you’ve already closed the window he realizes he’s shirtless in broad daylight, feet hopping off the siding of the cabin.
This couldn’t get any worse (oh but it does in a second), and you’re definitely the asshole this time around.
Your dad barges into your room by the time you throw a shirt on.
“Kid, what the hell? You sick?” 
Mr. D furrows his brows at the sight of you, face flushed as you simper up a lie about your head hurting. It’s weak for an excuse and even if you usually don’t have a tell—he’s the master of this game, so he pretends to not notice you chuck a shirt out the window when you open it to make it less stuffy. 
He raises an eyebrow in disapproval when you both notice your shirt is too big on you.
Oh, he’s onto you, applying heat like a brand to make his only daughter squirm; Mr. D peeks out the window to see a certain Luke Castellan stomping across the path wearing your cropped camp tee—and concludes that if there’s anyone in hot water right now, Luke must be drowning in it.
Acting natural is a bit harder for you today, and it feels like a cruel and unusual punishment worth the deepest pit of the Underworld as you scribble words onto a page that won’t even be comprehensible once you read them after this meeting is over. You’ve been catching up on work all day (also known as the impossible task of avoiding Luke) to show your dad you haven’t been slacking off. But a late start meant you fumbled through your day and it was obvious to everyone that you were off your game. Archery ran into javelin throwing, capture the flag teams weren’t ready and had to be made on the spot, there were no new shipments delivered to the camp store, and the infirmary ran out of ambrosia— which were all things that you were expected to coordinate.
Gods, you’re getting too old for this shit.
And if you, the head counselor everyone depends on, is off her game, well—everyone’s on edge. The Stolls even dared to ask you if the world was ending today and you were less than impressed.
Being in love sure feels like it is.
The only thing left to get through is this counselor’s meeting before the party tonight at Fireworks Beach, and you’ll damn yourself to Tartarus if you can’t even get that right. You’re a Dionysus kid, so partying is in your blood. Party planning is your favorite hobby, and to be real, you deserve a drink after today.
Speaking of your father, he’s jabbering on about something you find yourself not particularly interested in, but well…someone’s gotta listen. Charles is dozing off at the table, and Lee jabs him in the side. You see Silena braiding Clarisse’s hair out of the corner of your periphery. And of course, out of all of them, there’s Luke who’s been trying to steal your attention for the past 30 minutes. Black ink smears across the page as you find yourself having every thought that ends supplemented with the memory of how Luke looked at you as he climbed out of your window this morning.
Could he actually want more? 
The all-star camper, Luke Castellan— camp’s best soldier who’s envied by many and admired by all…wants to wake up next to you. You, the camp director’s daughter who keeps everyone in line and is seen more as authority instead of a person with feelings. You’re not always feared, but in a camp for demigod kids who’d rather hone their powers instead of lose special privileges for skipping class, you’re not exactly their favorite either. Once, someone said they’d rather face Mr. D instead of you.
“That doesn’t make sense, we’re supposed to send in the next progress report to Olympus before the last day of the month. That’s Wednesday, D. So it should be by the Sunday before,” you butt in after a statement your dad makes about scheduling. 
All eyes are on you now— it’s the first time you’ve spoken up during tonight’s meeting which was out of character in itself, but your father catches you off guard when the sound of his booming laughter spreads across the room like dynamite tearing through a battlefield.
“Says who? We’ve got enough time,” The god remarks, a strange sheen in his eyes that reflects into yours. He’s on your ass a bit more today, pointing out your flaws from the day and making it his mission to get on your nerves. Few mortals would undermine a god, and though you do it daily to spite him for your existence, your confidence is lower today than it usually is—the reason being a boy with amber eyes boring into your soul from across the table. Everything else pales in comparison now, almost fading into the background, and even here in the hot seat you can’t help but think about if Luke could ever fall for someone like you.
You’re venturing into dangerous territory, you tell yourself, you’ve been hurt before.
It hurts less somehow when you’re cautious. To prepare oneself to be hurt is a defense mechanism ingrained in you—your mom raised you to always be ready for anything. Your self-identity has always been skewed by others’ perceptions. Mirroring the memory of your late mother’s ideals, exemplifying your actions through your immortal father’s personality, you find that fighting your bloodline is one of the most difficult things to come to terms with. A thought passes in your brain that you’ve taken after the worst of them—your mother’s ambition and your father’s unpredictability. 
And who would want to love someone so difficult? 
Tough love is the only way you know how to love. Perhaps someone as good as Luke deserves better than this.
“It’ll be less to worry about that way,” you swallow, and the other counselors sit back in their seats as tension fills the air, signaling another disagreement about to start between your father and you.
“Good thing you don’t have to worry about it since it’s my job, right, kid? Just because you woke up on the wrong side of the bed today doesn’t mean you can change things to better fit your schedule instead of the rest of ours.”
Mr. D scowls, and then again maybe you’re too much like your father—too brash, too mouthy, and self-serving, and your eyes meet Luke’s again as your mouth pulls into a bitter smile.
“It’s the first and last time it’ll ever happen. Gods know I don’t get sick days around here picking up after you,” you spit out harshly, words coming out like acid.
“Just saying kid. Haven’t seen you this careless in years— Maybe check yourself before telling us what to do, yeah?”
Your father’s words have a double meaning as he stares into your soul, glancing between you and Luke, who is none the wiser, still focused on you. Annabeth is holding his hand under the table as you watch his jaw flex. He can see right through the shoddy performance you put on of having it all together.
Does everyone know? 
Your lips pucker as you roll your neck from locking, and a humorless laugh slips from you. Everyone else’s eyes are on Luke, who looks like he’s about to jump across the table and wring a god’s neck. 
Fuck. 
“Whatever. I’m not doing this today,” you grumble, feeling overwhelmed. The chair screeches against the wood of the floor as you push yourself up, fists stained with ink and clenched in teenage angst as you walk to the door to make a quick escape. 
Your father crosses his arms smugly at the success of getting under your skin, and the last words you hear as you leave are, “You never want to hear the truth, kid. Must you always be so…. you?”
Your steps falter for a moment, feeling heavier knowing he’s right so you let go of the door to let it slam it behind you. There’s a commotion inside after you leave but you couldn’t be bothered to give a damn.
It’s time to party and you’re sure as hell getting drunk, high, or both tonight.
It takes about two cups of wine for the inebriation to start kicking into Luke’s system. He’d never been much of a drinker, but with the way you’re throwing your head back at Lee’s jokes as he plays the guitar, he thinks he should drink a bit more to forget the fear in your eyes this morning and how Lee keeps touching your waist.
He’s been suspended from counselor duties for the rest of the month for mouthing off at Mr. D in your defense, and even if Annabeth tells him he’s lucky to have not met a worse fate, the way things played out today makes him feel like the most unlucky guy at camp. Fuck the gods, or at least…fuck your dads (that doesn’t sound right, but he’s too busy watching the moonlight glint against your skin that whatever his ex is whispering next to him goes in one ear and out the other). 
“Lukey?” Skye mumbles against his neck, “I miss you…you’re always busy doing who knows what!”
Well… you have a name, Luke thinks, taking a big gulp of whatever’s left in his cup as his eyes follow you across the beach. You’re dancing around the bonfire spinning a tipsy Clarisse who laughs without a care in the world. He thinks you’re the best of your parents—determined to achieve your goals, selfless when it comes to others’ needs, and passionate about what you want. Mr. D will never get to see this side of you—the one you show your friends and this place you all call home. He’ll never be deserving of the work you put into Camp Half-Blood (and to some extent, Luke knows he doesn’t deserve you either).
A dejected sigh brushes warm air against his shoulder.
“You know, Castellan. I wish I met you first,” the blond daughter of Athena slurs with tears forming in her eyes.
“What are you talking about?”
“The two of you have always… it’s always been you and her. Even if you both don’t want to admit it. It’s not fair,” she hiccups. Luke pulls the cup out of his ex-lover’s hand and she shakes her head.
“Skye, you’re drunk. I’ll take you back to 6.”
“You really don’t see it do you?” Her hands grapple onto Luke’s shirt like she’s pulling him down and pleading for him to understand.
“That girl is in love with you. The both of you are meant for each other—and you’re both spending too much time trying to fight fate. The rest of us aren’t as lucky, but we sure as hell aren’t stupid.”
There��s a moment of clarity that hits as he looks into Skye’s eyes, and he scratches the back of his neck.
“You don’t mean that.”
“I meant what I said when we broke up a few years ago. You’re both always looking for each other, even if you don’t know it. Just meet in the middle already, for gods’ sake…I’ll be okay,” she sighs, sitting up on the log they were resting on. 
“Your girlfriend is sure as hell to give me a hangover worth her title of being Dionysus’ kid in the morning anyways,” she mutters, kissing Luke on his cheek as a farewell. But out of all of the things to catch your attention that night, Luke’s blush glows in the light of the fire, and he watches you frown and stomp off toward the forest.
For being the son of the god of luck, his dad really won’t give him a break.
It didn’t help that Skye suddenly started projectile vomiting seconds after you left (off of her only cup of wine; wonder how that happened).
Luke fights through his growing intoxication on the walk back towards the cabins, but boy are you difficult when you’re angry—you’ve always had a profound effect on his being, even more so with your powers. He makes a wrong turn somewhere through the woods, completely missing the cabins, which he doesn’t realize until he stumbles across the path leading to the Big House. When his eyes focus, he spots Mr. D sipping on a glass as he leans on the railing of the front porch. Be calm and don’t act drunk, Luke tells himself, but all of his concentration goes into not swaying in front of the god of wine that he can’t stop the words from coming out of his mouth.
“Good evening, um…sir.”
“Kid, it’s 3 in the morning. What the hell are you doing here? Gods know it’s not my window you’re trying to climb up. You’re a bit of a ways off.”
Now what the fuck was he supposed to say to that?
Luke freezes in his spot (in reality he bumps into the first wooden step and sticks a hand out to steady himself against the railing).
“Are you drunk?”
Mr. D looks at him knowingly like it’s almost funny to him, eyebrows furrowed and head quirked like he can sniff it off of him. He probably can, now that Luke thinks really hard about it.
“I’m not gonna answer that because I think you know the answer already,” the son of Hermes words carefully, but nothing smart can come of this. It’s like playing chess with checkers, and Dionysus of all gods would know—no breathalyzer needed.
There’s a beat of silence, before Mr. D says, “I’m gonna give you another chance to–”
“Yes, I’m drunk, but it’s not Trouble’s fault—it’s mine!” he blabbers, walking closer to your father. 
“She’s mad at me for defending her from you earlier besides the fact I act stupid around her and I only had a few cups, I swear, but she’s…your daughter is…extraordinary.”
“What?”
“Your daughter makes me feel drunk, sir. Even without the wine. I don’t know what to do with myself, just please don’t get mad at her. She has a lot more to lose…” He feels pathetic in all sense of the word, rubbing at his eyes until Mr. D snaps his fingers and the alcohol blanket lifts from his senses. Like a bucket of cold water splashed onto his spine, Luke is suddenly very awake, and all too embarrassed for the waterfall of words he’s told your father.
“Oh.”
“I didn’t know she knew how to do that yet. She’s learning quickly.” Mr. D looks out into the distance, the dim light of the cabins acting like a beacon of light in the middle of the campgrounds.
Luke wrings his hands, picking at his thumbs and he’s sure he’s about to get kicked out of camp for his behavior, much less the fact that he’s been fraternizing with the director’s daughter.
“Sometimes I think she knows too much.” He licks his lips, awkwardly standing next to the god and wondering if the dark liquid in his cup is wine.
“Do you think I don’t know that, Luke? Do you really think I don’t know about the parties? I let her have her fun too you know— I'm the one that keeps Chiron asleep. She doesn’t ask for much. I know I give her a hard time. I’m just….” 
There are a few things about Mr. D’s statement that surprise Luke: the fact that he actually knows his name, how he safeguards his daughter’s interests, and the possibility of a god actually knowing how to be a good parent. 
It still doesn’t take away from the countless times he’s seen you put yourself down because of your father, the inadequacy you feel from the responsibilities you take on, and how you’d do anything for simple applause. Tough love is still love with a heavy hand. And it leaves bruises, whether he meant it or not.
“Is that why you’ve never sent her on an actual quest? We all know picking up the twins doesn’t count in the grand scheme of things.”
“For what? To achieve glory? Recognition? I never understood why we Olympians do that. Send children off to their deaths to deserve a moment of their godrent’s time, or a gift to shut them up. I don’t need her to be a hero, she doesn’t have anything she needs to prove to me. I need her to be my daughter, and preferably alive. That’s enough for me.”
Luke takes a step back in disbelief. There’s something in his being that yearns to be loved like that, without having to prove it or needing to deserve it. It hurts almost, the way he wants to be loved like your family loves you. Your father, an Olympian, standing in front of him telling him that your existence is enough to be worthy of his presence. In the silence that follows, Luke wonders if he’ll ever have that.
“You should tell her that more often, sir.”
“Listen. She’s a good kid, I just give her a hard time because it’s hard to get attached to you mortals. Your lives are so short compared to the infinite timeline I live. I can do everything in my power to try to keep her safe, but I can’t stop her from leaving. So don’t blame me if I act needy if it’ll keep her here for a bit longer. I’ll take all the time I can get.”
“Then how do I tell her I love her with without either of us running away?”
Mr. D laughs loudly now, his wrinkles crinkling as liquid sloshes out of his cup. It turns out to be grape juice you left out for him before the party.
“Mortals always busy themselves with trivial things, like pride and sorrow. Pandora’s box left you humans with nothing but hope. I say you swallow the negative and just say it how it is. You’ll have a lot more time being happier together that way. I already lost my bet against some of the counselors anyway.”
“What bet?”
Your dad swats at Luke like he’s a dog to kick, and tosses his glass over his shoulder where it disappears in the night air.
“Get off my porch Castellan, and just know if you hurt her…” 
“I’d die before that happens, sir.”
“That would hurt her most of all. Think about what that means. For gods’ sake she’s left her light on for you, so go on before I set the harpies on you. And don’t call me sir, it freaks me out. You’re still not special to me.” Mr. D stalks back inside the Big House, and Luke takes that as his cue to leave. The cold night air pushes him back towards the cabins, the light in your window luring him in like a ship lost at sea.
“I know you’re still awake, Trouble.”
You hear him move closer to the bed as you keep your eyes shut, evening out your breaths, but you’re never able to hide anything from Luke anymore.
“I thought I closed that window,” you mumble, turning your face more towards your pillow.
“You didn’t.”
Of course, you didn’t. You were hoping he’d chase after you this time around, even if you made him drunk in more ways than one.
“Skye keep you busy?” you say nonchalantly, and you hear Luke laugh as he tugs your duvet off of you.
“Your dad did, actually,” he says grinning, watching your eyes pop open in confusion as you turn and face him, propping yourself up on your knees.
“What the fuck?”
“You could’ve gotten me kicked out y’know? Stumbled onto his porch telling him about how drunk you make me feel even without a drop of alcohol and how I don’t know what the fuck to do with myself when I’m around you.”
“You shouldn’t be so brave to fight gods like that for me. Even if it’s my dad, Castellan,” you whisper, and he kneels next to your bed so he can look at you in the eyes from an equal standpoint. Because that’s what the two of you are— equal, singular, one and the same. And he’s never made you feel less than, even if your brain tries to convince you of it.
“Stop that,” he scoffs, shaking his head as he grabs your hands, “stop calling me my last name like it detaches you from how you feel about me. I want you to stop pretending when it's just you and me,” he pleads, whispering your name so softly that the sound of it brushes against your lips.
There’s something more intimate in the way he looks at you now compared to when you were naked and nestled against him this past morning. The act of knowing that it’s you and him, no matter how hard you try to fight it.
His knuckle brushes against your jaw, pushing your eyes to look back into his, and you can’t deny him any longer.
“Hey. I love you, and I know you feel the same; I'm tired of you acting like you're not and I’m going crazy he—”
His words are halted by your lips surging forward to meet him in the middle. The culmination of years of friendship has brought you to this special moment frozen in time, and sure, demigods die young but this must be what he’ll see in Elysium. If there’s a single memory he can bring with him to his next life, he hopes it’s this one—the taste of you and how it feels to be loved like this, without question or reason. You pull away with a sweet smile and he feels drunk again.
“You’re my best friend, Angelface,” you mumble.
Okay, now that sobered him up faster than it should have.
Luke stiffens, his hands falling to your thighs as he starts to ramble, “If you’re actually friendzoning me right now I might just roll out of your window and feed myself to a harpy.”
The laugh that comes out of you booms across the room as you wrap your arms around him with a radiant smile. You always have so much to say, but right now only three words come to mind. Five vowels, three consonants, and the gravity of it pushes out of your mouth like there’s no better truth to tell.
“I love you. I think I’ve been in love with you even before I liked you and I’m sorry I’ve been too scared to say it. I’m not used to…”
Luke sighs in relief, as he presses his scarred cheek against your shoulder. 
“You think I’m not scared of us either, Trouble? I worship the ground you walk on, and everyone can see that.”
“Well I’m not a god, Luke,” you say tugging him up by his mop of curls as your legs wrap around him.
“Sometimes when I’m with you, I think you’re the closest thing to it,” he whispers, pulling your chin down for another kiss until you both get your fill. He thinks he can kiss you forever until the end of your short lives, until it’s senseless and maddening, like falling into a drunken stupor. Loving you is an experience he’ll never be able to rid himself of, heart stained with the best of you until both your fingertips are red and raw with the feeling.
You pull him back into your bed as your giggles fill the early morning air. He’s quickly becoming what you love most about waking up in the morning.
Chris Rodriguez wakes up to the sound of the morning birds and chattering children in the busy cabin 11. As he rubs at his eyes, ready to take on the day as an interim cabin counselor for the rest of the month because of Luke’s suspension, sunlight falls onto the one empty bunk in the corner of the room (Fact: There is never an empty bed in the Hermes cabin. Also a fact: he and Chiron will be able to cash in against the other counselors as fast as his feet can take him to the Big House).
“To love someone is firstly to confess; I’m prepared to be devastated by you.” Billy Ray Belcourt
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morning-star-joy · 2 years ago
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a stranger's heart without a home masterlist
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Pairing: rivals to friends with benefits slowburn Joel x F!Reader, Post-Outbreak
Fic Summary: Sleeping with Joel Miller was supposed to be a one time thing. When the older brother of your closest friend showed up in Jackson, you hadn't expected him to stay more than a day. You'd both given into a brief moment of passion before he left, and that was the end of that. It didn't matter, you were never going to see him again. Then Joel returns a few months later, and screws up everything about the comforting life you had established in Jackson.
Fic Tags: One Night Stands, Rivals into Friends with Benefits, Emotional Slow Burn (really slow), Eventual Romance, Mutual Pining Idiots, Angst & Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Found Family (lots of Tommy & Reader and Dina & Reader friendships), Long Chapters
Fic Warnings: Explicit Smut (18+ MDNI), Language, Canon-Typical Violence, Alcohol Use, Age Difference (Reader in her 30s, Joel 56) Themes of Grief/PTSD/Depression with mentions of death (family members, both Reader and Joel) that can be heavy at times, Specific Warnings in each Chapter
Status: Complete
ao3 link
official art by @cynibuns
tribute edit by @dundienominee
moodboard/graphic by @planet-marz1
Reader fanart by @mydzygro-art
masterlist (no longer posting on tumblr, check ao3 for new fics)
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chapter 1: I am not the only traveler
chapter 2: the holidays linger like bad perfume
chapter 3: do I wanna know if this feeling flows both ways (18+ Smut)
chapter 4: there it is again, that funny feeling
chapter 5: break the silence; damn the dark, damn the light
chapter 6: and I'll never see you again if I can help it (18+ Smut)
chapter 7: look at us, you and I, back at it again (18+ Smut)
chapter 8: maybe I don't quite know what to say, but I'm here in your doorway
chapter 9: I thought that you’d be here by now (18+ Smut)
chapter 10: can the killer in me tame the fire in you?
chapter 11: this slope is treacherous, this path is reckless (18+ Smut)
chapter 12: you take what you get, and you turn it into honesty
chapter 13: burned out flames should never reignite, but I thought you might take me home (18+ Smut)
chapter 14: he built a fire just to keep me warm
chapter 15: speak to me until your history’s no mystery to me
chapter 16: and it feels good to be known so well (18+ Smut)
chapter 17: baby, it's Halloween, and we can be anything (18+ Smut)
chapter 18: yes, I'll admit that I'm a fool for you (18+ Smut)
chapter 19: either I'm careless or I wanna get caught (18+ Smut)
chapter 20: with your boots beneath my bed; forever is the sweetest con (18+ Smut)
epilogue (18+ Smut)
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(listed in order of how they occur after the main fic)
morning after chapter 20
waking up to oral (18+ Smut)
painfully domestic (kisses to get their attention)
lingerie & breeding kink (18+ Smut)
(epilogue takes place here)
half-asleep, half-awake (Joel POV companion piece to main fic)
not much I need (nonsexual intimacy)
kissing scars
easy, plaid-shirt mornings (18+ Smut)
would it be enough if I could never give you peace? (Reader's anxiety)
a feeling so peculiar (seasonal depression)
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chapter 13 sneak peek (Jealous!Joel's POV Date Scene)
chapter 13 scene (Jealous!Joel Smut after Date 18+)
chapter 13 cut endings (Angst af)
chapter 14 sneak peek (Reflection Joel's POV)
chapter 15 sneak peek (Totally Casual Drinks Between Friends)
chapter 16 sneak peek (Dina and Ellie Plan)
chapter 17 sneak peek (The Dance)
chapter 18 sneak peek (Joel Pines for You)
chapter 18 secret scene (Tommy finally fucking figures it out)
chapter 19 sneak peek (Tommy and Reader)
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fic playlist
MC playlist
Taylor-coded MC playlist (for my fellow Swifties!)
Joel POV playlist
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joequiinn · 20 days ago
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The Dos & Don'ts of Fake Dating | E.M. x reader | pt. 17
[chap sixteen] | [all chapters here] | [epilogue]
Story Summary: You propose a crazy idea to the resident freak of Hawkins, Eddie Munson. But maybe he was even crazier for agreeing to it…
notes & tropes: fem reader, slooow burn, faking dating, opposites attract, bratty rich bitch reader, super minor revenge plot, dysfunctional family dynamics, idiots-to-lovers, smut & nsfw themes
a/n: How is it possible that we've reached the end??? Although this may be the last chapter, this won't be the final outing for our Ice Princess - I'll have the epilogue posted soon, and I'm hoping to explore ther relationship more in the future! This chapter is a little bit serious, but otherwise it's entirely indulgent for all of us that have just been chomping at the bit for these two to get together, so enjoy~
wc: 9.1k
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Chapter Seventeen
Sleeping in Eddie’s bed had clearly become something of a habit in your month and a half of fake dating, because it didn’t even surprise you when you awoke the day after Halloween to find your cheek pressed against his back, his messy mane of curls tickling your face. No, the part that did briefly surprise you was the realization that you were lying there virtually naked and holding him like he was your own personal teddy bear; when the Halloween party slowly began to come back to you, though, your surprise began to fade away.
You’d kissed Eddie, not just once or twice or even for a few minutes, but for damn near the rest of night. Once you two left the party and returned to his place in the early hours of the morning, you practically jumped him because you were unable to contain all the want you’d been harboring over the course of these past weeks. Hell, you couldn’t even remember when you two eventually caved to your exhaustion and pulled away from each other, because you were so caught up in the whirlwind of his lips and his touch that all other details of the night seemed to vanish from memory.
With a giddy smile, you lightly brushed your fingers along your lips, feeling your ears grow hot at the memory of Eddie’s kisses and groping hands and tented pants. You even laughed to yourself smally, as if you were in disbelief about the evening that had transpired.
As your eyes lazily trailed up and down Eddie’s back, feeling ease and content in watching him sleep soundly, that pesky anxiety of yours began whispering cruelly in your ear again like it always seemed to - after all, you two hadn’t exactly discussed what was going on between you, so for all you knew the kisses could actually mean very little.
Although the reasonable side of you knew it was almost certainly ridiculous to assume this wouldn’t go further - considering the few things you did talk about last night - the nervous, emotionally confused and untrusting side of you couldn’t help but run wild with assumptions. What if Eddie didn’t like you in the same way you liked him, what if you misunderstood each other last night? Within only a few minutes of being awake, your worries were already getting the better of you, souring your morning far too quickly for your liking.
You were never exactly the most emotionally competent person, you loathed to admit - considering the household you grew up in, feelings were often suppressed until they boiled over. Neither of your parents set a very good example of how to properly express emotions or healthily discuss them, so your baseline was pretty damn pathetic. How were you supposed to ask Eddie what this was now, how were you supposed to behave when anxieties kept clouding you with skepticism?
The longer you lied here and stressed about it, the more you began to confuse yourself over technicalities and your assumptions regarding Eddie’s feelings. Eventually, when you couldn’t take the obnoxious ramblings inside your own head anymore, you shot out of bed and rushed back into your clothes from the night before, hoping you weren’t causing enough noise to rouse Eddie from his sleep.
You fumbled around the nightstand in hopes that there was a pack of cigarettes somewhere, but you cursed when you couldn’t find even a loose one rolling around; but after digging around in the pockets of Eddie’s jacket, you were relieved to find cigarettes and a lighter there as if they were waiting for you.
Creeping out of the bedroom, you exhaled deeply upon noticing that Wayne had already left for the day, feeling a little more at ease knowing that you could have some time alone to make sense of your thoughts and feelings. You stepped out onto the patio, immediately shivering thanks to the November chill in the air - you really could’ve thought this through better and at least grabbed a jacket, but your head was a little too mirky to have considered it. And you weren’t quite brave enough now to turn back around to grab one.
Curling up in one of the ratty chairs, you lit a cigarette and took a drag that was far too deep, as you ended up in a short coughing fit within moments. Once it passed, your anxieties and frustrations immediately returned in full force, making it damn near impossible to clear your head like you’d hoped. Really, you didn’t know what the hell you were so worried about, yet you felt this constant sense of foreboding; logically, it seemed misplaced, especially considering just how good last night was for you, yet it couldn’t be helped.
You finally confessed your feelings to Eddie and by some stroke of luck he reciprocated them, so then why did you have this sinking feeling in your chest? Why were you so convinced that something had to have been miscommunicated or misunderstood? It was as if you were waiting for the other shoe to drop, waiting for the inevitable disappointment that had to come following last night, because that’s how things had always gone for you before when they were actually important.
You were used to disappointment - between your parents and your friends and your exes, you’d come to expect it at this rate. You wouldn’t be surprised in the slightest if Eddie didn’t want any kind of serious relationship, if he didn’t want to keep things going between you two; despite yourself, your brain could justify any and all ridiculous reasons for this not to work regardless of how desperately you wanted it to.
You sat out on the patio for what felt like an eternity, watching the relatively uninteresting activity of the trailer park, thinking yourself into an anxious fit. Somewhere between your first and second cigarette, you began pacing across the small expanse of the patio, moving back and forth as if that could somehow put your mind at ease.
It was as you put a fourth cigarette to your lips that you heard the door open behind you, causing you to jump and spin around with wide, nervous eyes. Eddie paused in the door frame, his tired eyes landing on you with something akin to surprise and relief, though you couldn't understand why he looked at you that way.
Despite your best efforts to keep your gaze focused on his face, you couldn’t help but give Eddie a quick up-down, swallowing at the sight of his bare chest and his boxers slung low on his hips. You could see in his expression and posture that he still felt heavy with sleep, and yet his eyes were wide awake, as if he shot straight out of bed upon realizing you weren’t there beside him. He, too, looked you up and down, his shoulders seeming to relax a little as his tired mind tried to catch up with him.
“I thought you were gone.” His morning voice was gruff, and yet you couldn’t help but enjoy it. You dumbly shook your head, unable to think properly now that Eddie stood across from you, disrupting the already chaotic train of thought you’d been consumed with since waking. You removed the unlit cigarette from your mouth, sliding it into your pocket as you looked down at your feet; you could curse yourself for feeling so fucking nervous right now, your heart drumming hard and fast in your chest.
“No, just…” You trailed off, not knowing what you wanted to say anyway. Eddie’s brows were knotted with concern and thought as he stared at you; it almost looked as if he, too, was awaiting disappointment, just the same as you. Biting your lip, you added simply, “Just needed to think.”
Eddie’s chest heaved with a deep sigh as he looked you up and down again, making you wish you could simply read his mind right now - that would make this so much easier, you wouldn’t have to ask him questions or say any of the things that were on your mind.
Eddie looked around, giving you the impression that he was just as nervous as you were right now; clearly, sobriety had both of you a little on edge, “About last night?”
Despite all your nerves, a faint smile nearly ghosted across your lips as everything from the evening prior came flooding back to you. In some ways, it was so much easier to look upon it fondly now that Eddie was here, even as his presence hiked your anxieties. You glanced up at him through your lashes, biting the inside of your cheek at the warm yet trepidation look on his face.
“About last night.” You affirmed in a quiet voice, sheepishly looking around as you continued to make some sense of the chaos going on in your head. Why was it so hard to simply talk to Eddie right now? Why were you so scared to be transparent, to discuss your feelings when clearly you both had things to say on the matter?
Well, because you’d never felt like this before - the answer was obvious, and yet impossible to wrap your head around. The affection and endearment and yearning you felt for Eddie was unlike anything you’d ever experienced in your entire life, and it scared the fuck out of you. He’s been so good to you from the start, has always taken care of you, has let you into his world with open arms, and all of that was now utterly terrifying - the other shoe would inevitably drop soon, right? Something bad had to happen soon, that was all you ever knew. All your relationships - romantic, platonic, and otherwise - were bad, so what would make this any different?
Suddenly fearful of the swell of emotion inside your chest, you turned away from Eddie and took a deep breath; you could feel his gaze burning into the back of your head. Now that you weren’t looking him in the eye, it became at least a hair easier to swallow the lump in your throat and talk, even if your words were shaky.
“I… am terrible with feelings. Absolute shit with emotions, okay?” Eddie simply hummed behind you, and even in that simple sound you could almost hear the look on his face - brows up just a little with curiosity, arms crossed, corner of his mouth barely pulled back in a patient, attentive smirk. Whether or not you were making up that expression in your head, you were somehow certain that’s what you’d see if you were brave enough to turn around right now, “It’s hard for me. But… I’ve been confused for weeks, Eddie.”
A very faint laugh escaped him, prompting you to spin back around and look him in the eye with a puzzled, nervous expression; in that brief moment, you forgot your nerves as you found his watchful gaze. And just as you imagined, he was leaning in the door frame with his arms lazily crossed over his chest, a look of even-tempered composure spread across his face.
“You and me both, princess.” He said simply, as if he were refraining from talking too much. Was he doing so to give you the opportunity to speak your mind more easily?
For a long stretch, you stared at one another, your anxieties coming back to you even as you tried to fight them off; you abruptly turned away from him again, your nerves getting the better of you as you suddenly delved into a panicked rambling.
“You’ve made me feel shit I haven’t felt before, and I didn’t want to get confused so I tried to ignore it, but, fuck Eddie I didn’t think I could feel so many things all at once. It was so easy before, being the ice princess - I didn't care about anyone or anything, it was easier to just exist. But then you happened and I can’t even begin to understand why I’m so emotional all the time or how it’s possible for me to like you so much and be scared of that feeling.”
Hearing the worn wood of the patio creak under Eddie’s feet, your eyes grew wide, debating whether or not to turn around or maintain this measly comfort that came from having your back to him. But it didn’t sound as if he were coming any closer, and your prattling continued whether you wanted it to or not.
“Why am I scared? That’s so stupid, am I really that incapable of handling emotions or a relationship? All it took was one nice boy to turn me into a confused, emotional mess? God, you’ve made me happier than I’ve ever been these past couple months, and yet I want to run from it, like I don’t deserve it or something. Like no matter what, I’m gonna fuck this up and we’re both gonna end up disappointed.
“This was supposed to be some stupid little way of getting back at everyone in my life, but I guess the joke’s on me because now I’ve got more feelings than I can fucking contain and it’s like no matter what I do, I’m gonna ruin this.”
Maybe it was your nerves, but it was almost as if you could suddenly feel that Eddie had come closer without warning, causing you to abruptly begin pacing back and forth across the expanse of the patio. You kept your head down, still insisting on keeping some kind of pathetic barrier between you and Eddie as your anxiety just continued to escalade.
“This would be so much easier if you just didn’t like me back, Eddie, if you just didn’t care about me - I could’ve gotten over this so fucking easily. I can’t ignore it, and now some part of me wants to run, and I know that’s not fair, but maybe it would’ve made it easier on us both to just pretend nothing ever happened and to go back to how things were before we met and--”
Abruptly, Eddie grabbed your arm and spun you around to face him, causing you to trip over your feet as he steadied you. Firmly, he cupped your cheeks in his hands, forcing you to look up at him, forcing your eyes to stare directly into his - his gaze was far too affectionate right now, and it was only at that moment that you realized your eyes were feeling a little too watery for your liking.
“You’re talking yourself into a fit, princess.” Eddie’s voice was low and comforting, his hands warm against your skin as he held you in place. You gulped nervously, your skin breaking out into goosebumps as his thumb brushed tenderly along the apple of your cheek. You looked down, your gaze emptily staring at Eddie’s chin as you could feel the way he studied you, the way he looked at you with care. He dipped his head down just an inch, but was mindful not to get too close, a charmed little laugh escaping his lips and fluttering against yours, “What are you so afraid of?”
Eddie’s question felt too kind and gentle, far nicer than you deserved. Your sad eyes turned back up to meet his, and the tenderness in his gaze was utterly terrifying. You could only manage to whisper, as if incapable of raising your voice any louder, “I’m gonna fuck this up, Eddie; I don’t wanna hurt you and disappoint you and waste your time.”
A sweet smile tugged at Eddie’s lips, and you quickly looked back down nervously. Eddie’s fingers pressed against your skin insistently, “Will you please look at me?”
As if unable to resist the request, your eyes immediately flicked back up; Eddie’s expression brightened a little, clearly pleased that you were cooperating with him instead of resisting.
“You’re never gonna waste my time.” He started firmly, clearly believing every single word he was saying. You shook your head, but his gentle hands stopped you, “You don’t get to decide that. If you like me as much as you say you do, just be with me. Is that such a bad idea?”
You looked between Eddie’s eyes, unsure how to answer him - your head was swimming with confusion, your heart was pounding with anxieties, and yet they were somehow in entirely different places. You tried to outweigh your fear with logic, and yet you remained at odds with yourself. Pressing your lips together tightly, you swallowed while trying in vain to find your voice again. As if Eddie could read your thoughts, he continued.
“Let me make this easy for you,” although he spoke with confidence, you could see that Eddie was just as nervous as you were, that his eyes were alight with concern; hell, you could practically feel how rapidly his own heart was beating, how his arms were ever so gently shaking. He dipped his head closer, your foreheads nearly pressed together, his handsome face causing you to exhale longingly despite all your pent-up fear. Eddie’s voice had also lowered to a near whisper, “We’ve already been faking it for, what, two months now - so, can we just stop pretending? Nothing else is going to change… except that I’ll kiss you more, if you’ll let me.”
You tried to resist the temptation to smile, but you lost that battle quickly; your cheeks nearly hurt as you grinned and let out a nervous laugh, causing Eddie’s own gleeful smile to grace his pretty features. Trepidation was still ever present in your mind, hesitation clearly shining in your eyes, but getting you to smile again was a victory for Eddie, whose thumbs brushed dotingly along your cheeks.
“We’ll be just fine,” Eddie started warmly, his eyes reveling in the smile on your lips, gaze drinking in your features, “okay, princess?”
Your response was but a whisper as you gave a small nod, your breath warm against Eddie’s lips, “Okay.”
Without a need for any further confirmation, Eddie closed the gap between the two of you, crushing his lips against yours with a desperation that made you instantly dizzy. Your hands quickly began to search for grip along his sides, fingernails scratching against his skin as you kissed him back eagerly, a fire lighting in your stomach that burned out your nerves.
Eddie's hands trailed down your cheeks and neck, his gentle touch making your toes curl and sending a shiver up your spine; a deep sigh of satisfaction deflated the fears in your chest as his arms encircled you. You lips became more assertive and eager against Eddie's, hands gripping at him a little tighter as if intent on never letting go.
As your tongue teased along his lower lip, a gust of autumn wind blew past, and you could feel goosebumps breaking out across Eddie's skin beneath your fingertips. You shivered together, Eddie pulling his lips from yours with a faint chuckle. 
“Shit, it's cold.” He muttered into your mouth, causing you to laugh along with him. You gave his chest a small nudge, causing Eddie to take a step backwards.
“Then take me inside.” You instructed. With a sly look, Eddie took hold of your hands and dragged you back into the trailer, pressing your back against the door the moment that it was closed so he could steal another fierce kiss. You could have moaned at the way he pressed his body flush against yours, flinging your arms around his neck and twisting your fingers eagerly in his hair. Enjoying the feel of your hands on him, Eddie rolled his hips smally, causing a hungry sound to rise in your throat.
You broke away from Eddie’s lips, but evidently he wasn’t done with you, because he leaned down to plant firm kisses against the side of your neck; you sighed with delight, momentarily forgetting yourself. When you found your words again, you curled your fingers a little tighter in his hair to get his attention.
“Eddie, I--” You cut yourself off before anything more could leave you. Admittedly, you were embarrassed at the idea of simply saying “Eddie, I wanna fuck you so bad right now,” and just thinking those words caused your cheeks to grow fiery hot.
Feeling your hesitation, Eddie lifted his head to look you in the eye, his gaze dark as if in an odd blend of knowing and uncertainty - it was as if he knew what you wanted to say, and yet he doubted you’d say it at all.
“What?” He whispered huskily. It was then you realized you could feel him growing hard against your hip, and fuck you could’ve mewled greedily. Taking a breath and sticking up your chin in an attempt to gain your confidence, you looked between Eddie’s eyes and lips.
“I want you.” You opted for the less vulgar admission, hoping it would keep your temperature from rising quite so high, though you still felt sheepish saying it. Eddie inhaled deeply, taking in your face closely as if he planned on memorizing each and every feature.
The corner of his mouth pulled up in a faint grin, an excitement alight in his eyes, “I’m all yours, princess.”
A bubble of exhilaration swelled in your stomach, your pussy clenching at his words in anticipation. Achingly, you dragged Eddie’s lips back to yours for a fierce, hot kiss, just as quickly pulling back so you could drag him the short distance back to his room.
Unceremoniously, you shoved Eddie down onto the bed, a giddy laugh escaping you at the surprise across his face, clearly unprepared for you to take charge the way you did. Your eagerness and nervousness were at odds inside your chest as you took him in, hooded gaze dragging down his bare torso and locking onto the tent in his boxers. Eddie stared back at you with much the same expression, his brows slowly rising with anticipation as you unbuttoned your shirt and quickly dropped it to the floor.
In the next moment, you slid out of your shorts, pausing there for a moment as if frozen by the way Eddie watched you with a mesmerized expression. Everything within you was taut with arousal as you let Eddie drink your body in a few seconds longer; as if starved, though, you quickly crawled into his lap and kissed him with such urgency that it made you short of breath.
Eddie’s arms snaked around your middle, hands pressed firmly to your back as if to make sure you were real and solid, as if to make sure this wasn’t some dream. With your body flush against his, you could feel each breath in his chest, each flex of his muscles, the tease of his cock awaiting your touch. Still with some uncertainty, you lowered yourself on Eddie’s lap, your hot center pressed comfortably atop his cock, your underwear creating barely enough layers between you two.
As Eddie twitched beneath you, a moan passed from your mouth into his, your hands desperately winding into his hair again and your tongue feverish against his lips. Slowly, you rolled your hips along his length as a depraved groan rumbled in Eddie’s throat; he jerked again eagerly, his grip on your back growing even firmer. You rutted your hips heavily against his cock, pussy tightening with jitteriness and desperation and yearning.
You pulled your lips away from Eddie’s abruptly, only to ravenously kiss and nip along his neck, the feel of your hot mouth causing him to squirm with impatience. You continued to grind your hips at a deep, lecherous pace, your underwear growing damp from the friction and your arousal, desperate for more and more of Eddie’s body.
Pulling back to catch your breath, you found Eddie’s eyes, so dark and hooded as he stared back as if you were a goddamn work of art. Your heart beat wildly in your chest at the look of adoration, and all too quickly you were crashing your lips back to his for a passionate, chaste kiss.
You withdrew again, not just your lips but this time your entire body, sliding down from Eddie’s lap to the floor in front of him, eagerly settling between his knees; as you looked back up through your lashes, his slacked jaw and nervous anticipation made you grin wickedly.
You held Eddie’s eyes as you pressed closer, hands sliding up his thighs and towards the hard tent in his boxers; he swallowed excitedly, watching with intense focus as you finally palmed his cock through the thin layer of fabric concealing it. He tensed, sighing longingly at your touch; when you gave him a slight squeeze, the sigh turned into a gasp.
Eddie took a deep breath in a weak attempt to steady himself, eyes locked on yours for fear of looking away. You gave him one more small squeeze before removing your hand, hooking your fingers into the hem of his boxers; you paused, taking in Eddie’s expression with a teasing glint in your eyes.
When you finally dragged the measly article of clothing down, his cock bounced up and slapped against his abdomen; you bit your lip, holding in the gasp that nearly left your mouth at the sight of him. You hungrily looked between Eddie’s eyes and the throbbing head of his cock, nearly ready to pounce him without warning, though you refrained. No, if you could help it, you were going to take your sweet time with him.
The mere sight of you on your knees for him was nearly enough to drive Eddie mad, his breath shaky as he took in your carnal expression, your eager eyes. In that moment, you were so damn beautiful that he was nearly afraid to touch you, his fists clenching urgently into the sheets on either side of him as he awaited what you’d do next.
You kept your dark stare locked with Eddie’s as you wet your lip, lowering yourself slowly towards his desperate cock. Just your hot breath against him was enough to make Eddie twitch and gasp, your mouth hovering mere centimeters from him; god, you clenched at the needy sound that escaped him, impatient to hear what others you may cause.
Finally, your lips closed around the head of Eddie’s cock, tantalizingly pressing your tongue flat to the underside of his length. Eddie exclaimed with a sinful stutter, hips bucking as you slowly twirled your tongue around him; you sucked in your cheeks, watching Eddie’s face through your lashes. His jaw had gone slack, staring down at you with hooded, mesmerized eyes; it very nearly drove you mad, and this had only just begun.
For a long, cruel beat, you remained unmoving, your stare teasing even with Eddie’s cock in your mouth; you waited until you spotted his impatience, relenting with a satisfied gleam in your eyes. Torturously slow, you took his length as deep as you could, your pussy clenching at the way his body shuddered and twitched as incoherent sounds leapt past his lips. His hips bucked up into your mouth as he frantically grabbed at your hair as if desperate to both stop you and to push you even lower on his cock.
Far too pleased with yourself, you finally stopped teasing, rhythmically bobbing your head up and down, twirling your tongue, drooling down the entirety of Eddie’s cock. With one hand, you squeezed what length you couldn’t fit in your mouth, slowly tightening your grip in response to his eager mewling; the nails on your other hand dug into the skin of his thigh, feeling his muscle flex beneath you.
Your tempo grew sloppier and needier, your once slow pace now growing wetter and greedier each time you made Eddie gasp with pleasure. Your hand squeezed tighter around his thick shaft, tongue tantalizing as it swirled his head. Eddie’s hips jerked up desperately, uncontrollably, his cock gagging you as it hit the back of your throat and the hand in your hair gripping harder as he all too easily fell apart. You used both hands to press down on his hips, a silent insistence to stay put as you shifted on your knees, changing the angle so you could take him even deeper.
He gasped and moaned as your mouth grew more frantic, tongue swirling, lips sucking, teeth grazing each time you took him deep enough that you nearly choked. Eddie’s squirming and begging only encouraged you, your mouth becoming more and more desperate around him, your jaw straining as you slurped and sucked with total obscenity. With his cock practically fully sheathed, you ran your vulgar tongue from base to tip, pressing it against the most sensitive part of his head and making him gasp with a salacious jolt.
“Heyhey--!” Eddie abruptly pulled you off his cock, a string of drool connecting you two as a satisfied, wicked grin spread across your lips. His chest heaved frantically as he stared down at you with glazed eyes, his hair sticking to his sweaty forehead and flushed cheeks. You cleaned the drool from your lip with the back of your finger, hungrily looking between Eddie’s pretty face and his throbbing cock.
He laughed breathily in disbelief, making a measly attempt at composing himself. His cheeks were bright red as he looked down at his twitching cock, “Fuck…”
His fingers were still twisted in your hair, gently tugging as he met your eyes again; his expression was sapless, another profane look spreading across your face at the sight of him.
“Want me to stop?” You asked in an airy, tender whisper, realizing that you, too, needed to catch your breath. The question amused Eddie, who shook his head with a weak grin.
“Fuck no, that’s the problem.” You giggled at his response, teasingly pressing your lips to the underside of his cock, which made him jump a little with sensitivity. He dipped his head back and stared up at the ceiling, taking a deep breath to collect himself.
“Aw, need a minute?” You teased, to which Eddie faintly nodded. For a few moments, you rested your head atop his knee, adoringly watching his chest rise and fall, his Adam’s apple bob, his lips hanging open lustfully.
When he finally glanced back down at you, the look in his eyes was so damn tender that it nearly froze you, unable to move or look away as you drank him in. Once you managed to pull yourself from the hypnosis, you slowly rose to your feet, Eddie’s eyes watching you oh-so closely as you unclasped your bra and stepped out of your lacy underwear, entirely bare in front of him.
You drank in the dilation of his pupils, the heave of his chest, the twitch of his cock, shivering a little under Eddie’s severe, lustful gaze. His eyes trailed over your body, studying every single curve and blemish as if intent on memorizing your skin.
With a deep breath, you grabbed Eddie’s face tenderly between your hands and leaned down, kissing him with a hungry, passionate fervor, moaning against his lips. He blindly reached out for you, pulling you closer until you were flush against him, a satisfied sound escaping his throat at the feel of your skin on his. As you kissed him deeply, desperately, you hiked one knee up onto the bed, your hot center hovering above his thigh, so close that if you were to shift even a little you would graze against him.
Your tongue prodded at Eddie’s lower lip, moaning as his mouth opened to you; his hands tentatively explored your body, fingers digging into your hips, your legs, squeezing your ass with an unsure grip. Needily, you pressed your wet pussy onto his thigh, causing Eddie to moan and pull back so he could look you in the eye.
You breathed into each other’s mouths as you slowly rolled your hips once, making yourself gasp at the sensation; Eddie’s expression quickly darkened, growing hungry at the mere sight of you pleasuring yourself on him. His grip on you tightened, as if silently asking you to keep going, silently begging you to use him all for yourself.
Carefully maneuvering your other knee between his legs, you sat more comfortably atop his thigh and rutted your hips again, the both of you groaning as you threw your head back. Eddie cupped your ass, his hold more firm than before as you started to slowly ride his thigh, your pussy slick and desperate against his hot skin. Your breaths came out in deep shudders, jaw trembling a little when you’d roll your hips just right; you steadied yourself on Eddie’s shoulders, forehead pressing against his as you focused on your rhythm. He couldn’t help but moan at the sight of you, his cock throbbing against your knee as an erotic “fuck” escaped his lips.
When Eddie unexpectedly flexed his thigh, your hips stuttered, a surprised gasp leaving your mouth as you grinded more firmly, more desperately. Your legs were already beginning to tremble as you held tight to Eddie’s shoulders, sloppily kissing him as you rubbed up and down his thigh, pathetic sounds humming in both your throats as the heat in the room kept rising.
Beads of sweat began forming at your temple and the small of your back, your rhythm becoming more and more frantic against Eddie’s body. His lips were hot against your skin, leaving frenzied kisses along the corner of your mouth, your jaw, your neck; you could feel the way his breathing hitched and faltered, as if he was getting higher and higher along with you. Fuck, you weren’t even touching his cock, and yet you were so goddamn pornographic that it was about to send him over the edge again.
Eddie’s fingers dug into the fat of your ass, pressing you more insistently down against his leg; you pulled your head back just enough to smile stupidly at him, seeing and feeling the way his trepidation had begun to fade away. There was a fire in his eyes as you rubbed against him, his mouth hung open with need and desire as he watched you coming undone.
Biting your lip, you picked up your pace while curving your hips a little more, catching your clit in just the right way that it made your eyes cross. Your moaning grew desperate as you got closer to climax, your nails digging into Eddie’s shoulders to keep steady. He flexed his leg again, watching you through hooded eyes as he relished in your pleasure, breathing in your erotic scent as you gasped at the sensation that shot through your body.
“Eddie--” Your tone was pleading, causing him to hiss carnally between his teeth, his breath hot against your cheek. Your grinding was almost erratic, pussy so desperate as your hips rolled and your toes curled. Your body stuttered abruptly, overwhelming stimulation suddenly washing over you without warning, causing you to throw your head back with unrestrained gasps and whimpers.
Eddie held firmly onto you, the sounds of his own raunchy whines in your ear making your orgasm all the more intense. Your entire body shook for a few moments as you struggled to catch your breath, slumping against Eddie’s front and resting your head on his shoulder. Your chests heaved unevenly against one another, sweat sticky between you; the feel of Eddie’s cock twitching against your leg made you moan with a weak laugh, attempting to regain your composure.
“Fuck…” Eddie managed to pant out as you finally raised your head from his shoulder. When you met his eyes, he was lazily grinning from ear-to-ear, drinking in the sight of your post-orgasm expression; you smiled back, biting your lip as your gaze bounced around his handsome face, “Succubus…”
You laughed again, though the sound was hoarse and airy; you placed your hands at the base of Eddie’s neck, needily kissing him with as much force as you could muster. His hands trailed lazily up and down your back, his hands hot against your skin, and you couldn’t help but smile to yourself, the sensation bringing back the memory of that damned wet dream you had about Eddie only a mere few weeks ago.
Feeling your lips grinning against his, Eddie couldn’t help but mirror the expression, although his mind was still reeling from the fact that the ice princess just came because of him. Just a couple of months ago, he wouldn’t have dared bet money on the idea that you’d be getting off in his goddamn lap, and yet here you were, kissing him with lust and adoration, still quivering from your orgasm.
When finally you broke from the kiss, it was to look Eddie in the eye again, fingers tenderly curling in his hair as you drank him in. His expression was once again awestruck, and it made you feel flush all over, dropping your gaze as if bashful; his hands lazily slid back down to your ass, gripping you tight enough that you inhaled smally. Your eyes flicked back up so you could stare at Eddie’s handsome face, finally finding your voice again.
“You have condoms?” your tone was airy; the nearly surprised expression on Eddie’s face caused you to smile smally while raising your brows at him. He looked almost as if he had something smart to say, yet all he could do was nod dumbly in response to your question. Holding you close with one steady hand on the small of your back, Eddie leaned towards his nightstand, wrenching the drawer open and fumbling around until he finally found what he was searching for.
As Eddie brought the foil packaging to his mouth, you couldn’t help but ogle him, jaw slacking a little as he easily ripped the foil with his teeth, looking far, far too hot doing so. When his eager eyes found yours again they darkened with desire, and he couldn’t help but lean in to steal a quick kiss; you giggled against his lips, absolutely charmed by the innocence of it.
You snatched the condom from Eddie’s hand with a playful look, pulling your sweaty body away from his so you could crawl further onto the bed; you sat back, ass resting upon your heels as you waited for Eddie to follow after you.
He stayed planted for a beat as if in consideration, though before you could question it he turned to face you again; his eyes languidly trailed up and down your body, breath hitching at the sight of you, still so damn new and exciting for him. When finally Eddie met your eyes again, he smiled almost to himself, finally twisting around so he could crawl up the bed with you. Unable to stop yourself, your lusty gaze was drawn back to his cock, still hard and so goddamn tantalizing, and you felt desperate drool pooling in your mouth.
Eddie swooped in for another swift kiss, causing you to nearly fall back onto the pillows thanks to how unprepared you were for it. You gripped his biceps to stay upright, kissing him back eagerly and adoringly, and for a brief moment you came out of your lustful fog, realizing that kissing him felt so goddamn easy, that being with him was like the most natural thing in the entire world. That thought in mind, you deepened the kiss, wrapping your arms around Eddie’s neck and drawing him closer.
Eddie pulled his lips away so that he could press your foreheads together, breathing you in with affection while his hands came to rest gently atop your knees. You could nearly feel the way he smiled, your lips hovering but a breath away from one another, and it tempted you to lean back in for more.
“I haven’t really done this before.” Eddie blurted out huskily, as if he’d been trying to find the words since the start of this whole thing. You couldn’t help but smile largely, pulling back a little further so you could look at his face.
“‘Haven’t really?’” You teased questioningly, delighting in the way his cheeks blushed even more red than they were a moment before. Eddie looked down, grinning along with you. You gave him a firm kiss in an effort to bolster his confidence, wondering if this meant you’d be Eddie’s first time, or if he was just admitting to having very little experience.
He found your eyes, and although a smile rested on his face, he still looked nervous, “I mean… I’ve only done this once.”
Feeling especially playful - which had never been a thing with previous partners amidst the throes of passion -  you looked him in the eye with a near cocky expression, “Well, don’t worry, you’re in good hands.”
To that, an anxious laugh burst from Eddie’s throat, clearly unprepared for what you said; you giggled along with him, teasingly narrowing your eyes at him. As Eddie composed himself, he had to hold back more laughter while fondly meeting your eyes, “I’ll be the judge of that, princess.”
Eagerly, you dragged Eddie in for another kiss, guiding him to lie back on the bed; as you pushed him down against the pillows, you pulled your lips away. He stared up at you with such reverie, his lusty gaze watching closely as you straddled his legs, a faint gasp leaving his mouth as you gently grabbed his cock. You drank in the look on Eddie’s face as you gave him a few slow strokes, his moans turning you on, the way his head leaned back as his eyes fluttered closed utterly intoxicating. An entranced sigh escaped you, feeling how wet you were getting again at simply the sight of his satisfaction.
When you took back your hand, a disappointed whine rose from Eddie’s throat, causing you to grin wickedly; you finally removed the condom  from its foil, guiding it down his shaft as butterflies began to flutter wildly in your stomach. Eddie watched through hooded eyes as if he were in awe of you; when you leaned forward onto your palms, his eyes flickered down towards your chest, seemingly engrossed in the way your breasts moved as you crawled up his body till you were centered above his erection.
For a moment, you lingered there, mere inches away as you took the time to enjoy the look of Eddie, the desire alight in his eyes, the parting of his lips, the deep heaving of his chest; fuck, he was so handsome it was almost annoying. You couldn’t help but smile fondly while reaching down between you two, positioning Eddie as another faint sound of desire rose in his throat.
With a final, decisive sigh, you lowered yourself onto Eddie’s cock, your pussy so slick that you slid down hilt deep with ease. You moaned loudly at the way you stretched around his thickness, and in the same breath Eddie’s hands spasmed before gripping your thighs tightly.
“Holy shit--!” He hissed sharply while throwing his head back, the expanse of his neck looking far too appetizing all exposed like that. You stayed still for a couple of moments as you became comfortable with his size, delighting in the way Eddie’s fingers flexed against your skin, the way he caught his breath. You couldn’t help but clench around him, causing another gasp to fall from his lips.
Steadily, you began to roll your hips in a deep motion, your moans mingling together at the way Eddie’s cock stroked deep inside you; the slow pace was very nearly cruel, yet the way he hit all your sweet spots was far too intoxicating. God, you just wanted to lean down and trail bites all along Eddie’s neck, but you feared the change of position would get you too close too soon. So, you continued to grind, Eddie’s cock buried deep in your warm pussy, his hands gripping your thighs so tight that it nearly hurt. Hands braced on either side of his head, your fingers twisted eagerly into the pillow with each rut of your hips.
Eddie’s whines and moans were like music to your ears, encouraging you to shift your knees so you could bounce on his cock, the new angle making you mewl loudly as your eyes crossed. Eddie, too, responded wildly, hands grabbing desperately at your hips and ass and legs, squeezing you with rash need.
The way his girth stretched you out had your pussy flexing tight with yearning, your legs already shaky at the feel of him sliding in and out of your slick folds. Christ, nothing before had ever felt as good as Eddie, no one had ever gotten you so high like this; just that thought alone made you shudder and clench with ecstasy and greed.
With his cock sliding in and out of you, Eddie saw stars in his eyes, his mind running wild, his body like static electricity. Incoherent muttering spilled from his parted lips, gasps and hitched breaths growing more frenzied as you rode him eagerly. You looked like a goddamn masterpiece, your hair a mess, body glistening with a sheen of sweat, hands groping desperately at his shoulders as your pace became more and more frenzied. The fucking sight of you riding him was better than anything Eddie had ever dreamed of, and some part of him was still convinced this moment wasn't entirely real.
A particularly urgent gasp leapt from your throat as you rubbed your clit against the hilt of Eddie’s cock just right, the sensation coursing through your body causing your rhythm to falter as you braced your hands roughly on his shoulders. You had to slow down and collect yourself for just a moment, taken aback by the fact that you had nearly cum again so damn easily. Eddie’s breathing was heavy as he stared up at you, ogling the rise and fall of your chest, the taut muscles in your arms, the way your mouth hung open so erotically; unintentionally, you flexed around him, causing the both of you to moan in unison.
You met Eddie’s eyes again, a dopey smile spreading across your lips at how good he looked beneath you with his hair a mess and his eyes nearly black with lust. He grinned back at you with a weak, breathy chuckle, hands squeezing your legs again, cock twitching inside you; it felt so good that you had to bite your lip to hold back a whine.
“You’re amazing.” Eddie said, his voice light as air; you fondly rolled your eyes.
“Shut up.” You answered without any conviction, leaning down so you could kiss him again. The movement caused you to slide up his cock, making the both of you moan into each other’s mouths. You relaxed onto your elbows, trailing hot kisses along Eddie’s jaw as you slowly began to ride him again, the new angle causing friction against your clit that was absolutely sinful.
Eddie’s moaning and muttering being so close to your ear only made you hotter and hornier, clenching tightly as you picked up your pace. His hands held tight to the back of your thighs, helping you bounce rhythmically up and down on his cock as you continued to nip and kiss at his jawline and neck.
As if he had finally gained the confidence to do so, Eddie started to thrust up into you in time with your movements, putting you into an absolute frenzy as your bodies slapped together. All the moans and gasps that tumbled from your lips were growing increasingly louder and more pornographic, to which Eddie’s thrusts became more solid and quick and rough.
You stopped kissing his sticky skin, sounds of ecstasy spilling out of you with more and more vulgarity, your toes curling and knees shaking from how fucking good Eddie’s cock felt ramming inside of you. You could feel drool trailing along your lip and onto Eddie’s hot neck, but you were too far gone to care, your pleasure overriding all of your senses.
“Shit, I’m close--” Eddie whined as if it were both a plea and a warning, and the desperation in his voice had you moaning even louder, walls clenching tight around him. You weren’t sure when you’d stopped moving, but now Eddie was thrusting up into you so deep and rough that it nearly hurt, but in the best goddamn way possible. Together, you were both moaning wildly, Eddie’s hips becoming erratic as he slapped up against you, your body shaking from the now overwhelming pleasuring washing over you. Your mind was so muddled, entirely wrapped up in Eddie and his cock and how close your orgasm was and--
Eddie groaned desperately with one final thrust, ramming himself deep inside you and holding you tightly in place; you could feel his cock twitching, and just knowing that you’d made him cum practically had you tumbling over the edge with him as well.
His body trembled with his orgasm, head thrown back and fingers digging into your skin; you, too, could feel yourself shaking, desperate for that release that was just out of reach. You breathed heavily, clenching around Eddie and making him moan again as he tried to catch his breath, tried to come back down to earth from the cloud he was on.
After a minute, you could feel Eddie relaxing beneath you, and so you sat up a little, moaning at the way his cock still teased your needy pussy, which was growing urgent for relief; a similar, though weaker, sound rumbled in his throat, hands falling limply on either side of your legs. You stared down tenderly at Eddie’s face; his eyes were still closed as he tried to collect himself, and he looked so pretty that you nearly reached out to touch him.
With your second orgasm delayed, your body was feeling particularly desperate, and with a wicked glint in your eyes, you rolled your hips slowly against Eddie’s. He threw his head back with a whine, fingertips trying to grip at your legs and stop you.
“Fuck, princess--!” The lustful way that the endearing nickname left Eddie’s mouth made your pussy flex around him again, drawing another illicit moan from deep in his throat. He managed to get a weak grip on your knees, eyes shooting open to gaze up into your face; there was an overstimulated nervousness in his blown out stare, which made your lips curl into an infatuated smile. Selfishly, you rut your hips with Eddie’s, making him twitch again with how damn sensitive his cock was. “Baby, please…”
Baby. The new term of endearment made you moan. You held Eddie’s gaze as you ever so slowly continued to grind on his cock, which was still hard even after his own release. Weak, needy noises left Eddie as his eyes crossed and rolled back again, succumbing to you; his body shook beneath yours as you used his cock for your own pleasure, creating a friction on your clit that was making you damn near feral.
Like a mantra, weak, breathy “fuck”s fell from your lips as you chased your orgasm, eyes closed and limbs wobbly as you rode Eddie to your heart’s content. His hands flexed against your legs, fingers clinging, body shaking as if he could barely handle your touch anymore. God, you were so close, the mounting of your pleasure beckoning wildly to you.
You realized that Eddie was muttering your name as if it was a prayer, and it flooded you with such desire and warmth and craving, causing you to cum so abruptly that it took you aback. You cried out and threw your head back, staring frantically up at the ceiling as your body became rigid for a moment. In the next breath, you all but melted on top of Eddie, slumping down and resting your head beside his on the pillow. You quivered as your orgasm consumed you entirely.
When you finally came back to yourself, it was thanks to Eddie’s cock slowly shrinking inside you, the sensation making you shudder and sigh as you opened your eyes again. Your faces were so close that you could feel Eddie’s breath upon your cheek, could barely see his eyes staring back at you. An unexpected laugh of satisfaction left your mouth, and you pressed your face into the pillow as if to suppress it. Eddie nuzzled his face into the side of your neck, arms lazily curling around your waist.
“God damn.” He breathed out, pulling back so you could lift your head to look at him again adoringly. You couldn't help but smile at one another, your chests still rising and falling as you composed yourselves. You drank in Eddie’s post-sex expression - the relaxed slant of his brow, his slack jaw, the daze in his eyes. The look made you want to kiss him again and again as if he was the air you breathed.
So, you leaned in to give him that chaste kiss that you desired, which caused his eyes to light up and a smile to spread across his handsome face when you pulled back. His arms tightened around you as he stared ardently upon your face. Shifting so that you two could lie on your sides, Eddie’s cock finally slid out of you, which caused you to moan one last time; the sound made him laugh smally, though you could somehow hear the tenderness in it.
“So… this makes you my real girlfriend now, right?” He asked with a large, silly grin, causing you to giggle and roll your eyes fondly. Lazily, you knotted your fingers into his messy mane of curls, taking a few moments to simply admire his handsome features.
“You want me to be?” Eddie pulled a face as if to say “are you fucking kinding me,” which made you laugh all over again. He narrowed his eyes playfully, challenging you to do the simple task of giving him a real answer. Affection and warmth swelled inside your chest, making you smile largely - all you could manage was to nod vigorously in agreement, feeling your cheeks growing hot at all the emotions you were feeling.
“Come on, you can say it, can’t you?” He teased wickedly, causing you to bite the inside of your lip. With a sincere look and a deep breath, you delicately cupped Eddie’s face in your hands, holding his stare firmly as you tried to control the joyful grin on your lips.
“Eddie,” You started, your tone clearly amusing him, which nearly made you giggle again; luckily, you composed yourself, “I’m your real girlfriend now.”
His smile was large and dazzling and enchanting, his dark eyes tender as they looked about your face with what must have been all the happiness in the world. He leaned in a hair closer, forehead against yours once more as he whispered on your lips, “That’s all I needed to hear, princess.”
.
.
addt. a/n: I can't thank everyone enough for following along with this story, it's one that's so very special to me, and it warms my heart to know others love it as well! I could write an entire essay full of things I'd like to say about this little fic, but I'll spare everyone of my ramblings. So, how soon should I post the epilogue 👀
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@costellation-hunter @daisy-munson @daisyridleyss @damon-loves-pie @damp4eddie
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finniestoncrane · 7 months ago
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PREWAR COOPER STUFFS ❤️‍🔥 DESPERATELY needing some fluffy morning after/Sunday morning routine with his wifey 😩👏 him being VERY grabby and just an absolute horndog dkfnfnrk (he is down bad for reader)
Morning, Sunshine
Cooper Howard x Fem!Reader, word count: 1k hello post divorce cooper, please hit me up, i'll make you eggs (also post-divorce barb i know you're a baddie but that's just my type so i'll make you eggs too pls lemme make you eggs too...ANYWAY) but please this is so cute and i have made it gender neutral as you corrected so everyone enjoy being cooper's little chef and getting caressed by this hungover idiot 🤎 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: suggestive things, mentions of alcohol, angst
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Cooper stumbled into the kitchen, his feet shuffling on the floor as though they were made of lead, unable to lift them any higher. He groaned as the light from the windows assaulted him, and you smiled without turning to him, offering a brief, hushed 'good morning'. He returned the greeting with a groan. His entire body felt weighed down, the ache of sleeping in one position all night, lacked out in a drunken stupor after he had pawed at you and attempted to fuck the lingering stress out of his body.
And now he was in his own kitchen, messy from the small gathering of friends from the night before, stressed once more and hungover as shit to boot.
But there you were, by the stove, the source of the wonderful smell that had woken him up and had him drifting from the sancutary of his dark bedroom to face the world. Even when he was hungover, or sick, or just too damn tired to accept reality, he did it anyway. Who knew how many more mornings there were for him to see? That looming threat, the dark secret he had to keep to himself, one not even Barb knew was the real reason for their divorce. The source of his agonies, but also, the reason he felt so inspired to wake up each morning and spend as much of the time he had left with you as possible.
"I wasn't expecting you out of bed any time beforeat least midday, Coop."
"Then you shouldn't have started cooking something so god damn delicious."
His voice grew closer as he made his way, instinctually, towards you.
"I'm sorry, did it wake you up?"
"It did, but there's nothing to apologise for."
He was behind you now as you stood in front of the burners, a pan in your hand, your signature omelette cooking over the heat, your grip wobbling a little as Cooper looped his arms around your body. Everything he did stole your attention, pulling your focus with his charismatic personality, the way he commanded a room the moment he entered. And it didn't help that he had begun to kiss at your neck, letting his lips drag along your prickling skin as he moved down to your shoulder, nuzzling back into you as he sighed. The satisfied moan on the exhale had your stomach tensing, eliciting a soft moan of your own in reply.
"You want me to make you something to eat?"
"Please, darlin'. If that isn't a bother."
"Never is for you, Mr Howard. You get a coffee and take a seat, I'll be right with you."
Once he was seated with his mug, the morning newspaper to the side of the place setting at the kitchen island, you turned from the stove to plate up the omelette for him. It was the first you had properly looked at him that morning, and you could feel your breath hitching as you took him in. Even in this state, bedraggled, skin greasy with a sheen of sweat, hair unkempt and slicked back in messy waves, his breath, which you could smell over the countertop, still tainted with the cocktails he’d been making the night before. Even with all of that, he was still the most handsome man you had ever laid eyes on. And those same eyes couldn’t help but fall to his chest, his robe hanging open, exposing his torso down to his navel.
You wondered if he’d bothered to find any underwear to put on before covering himself with the short robe when he’d stumbled out of bed.
“Oh, sweetheart. You made this for yourself.”
“You eat first, I’ll make one for myself just now.”
Cooper flashed you a grin, one you remembered seeing so often in press photos, at promotional events.
“You really are a doll, know that?”
You returned his smile, turning back to the stove as he ate a few bites of the omelette with a satisfied groan. Cooper took a sip of coffee, watching you over the top of the mug. Every day could be the last. He didn’t want to believe it, but it always hung in the back of his mind. He’d lost Barb to Vaut-Tec, lost Janey, at least partly, to the divorce. He’d lost his sense of security to the war, his work to the paranoia that had burrowed inside of him. You were all he had now, and intended to cling to you with everything he had. Holding your hand tight at the party last night, clutching your body in the bed as he fucked you, passionate, desperate. His fingers entwined in yours as you slept, then holding you in his arms, your body smooth and warm.
Cooper stood up from his chair, unintentionally quiet to the point where you didn’t even notice he had moved until he was right behind you again, pressing himself against you so tight that you could feel the beginnings of his erection pushing into you. With a firm hand, he took your wrist, guiding you to set down the pan, switching the stove off and turning you in a choreographed spin so that you were facing him, your chests together, eyes trained on one another.
“You got enough ingredients for another, right?”
“Uh… yeah? Why?”
“I just think it might be ruined by the time I’m finished with you.”
His hands slipped down from your lower back, cupping both of your cheeks as he raised his eyebrows in a silent, questioning plea. Every moment with you was precious to him, every inch of your body worth placing a kiss to, worth tasting and savouring. Why not make the most of your time together by making sure you were as close to each other, as pleasured and satisfied, as possible?
So, when you blushed, biting your lip and giggling, he knew you agreed, and he took your hand and pulled you back to the comfort of the bedroom with you, hoping to relieve himself of a little more stress.
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begko · 1 year ago
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keep quiet. -seijoh 4
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warnings: 18+ MDNI, poly, implied masturbation, implied sex(? I think), idk how to tag so lmk if there's anything else
contains: fem reader, seijoh 4 x reader (but mostly Matsukawa x reader and Hanamaki x reader)
wc: 1.2 k
a/n: I feel like there's not enough seijoh 4 fics out there so I decided to write one myself lol. This is my first fic so if anyone likes this I'll finish this and try to post more. Just ask and I'll lyk if I can do it!
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Living in an apartment with four other boys never left your days feeling dull. Although you were all in your 20’s and supposedly more mature than your younger selves, they were still boys. 
They would each find ways to somehow piss you off, whether consciously or not. Dirty laundry in the living room, a bag of chips left open on the counter, or the loud moans of a random girl spilling through the crack in their bedroom door. These things wouldn’t typically leave you feeling so annoyed, but hearing a repeating “Yes Oikawa!” at 3 AM– the night before your abnormal psychology midterm may I add– was seriously starting to test your patience. 
Before you knew it, you found your feet gliding stomping down the hallway towards the brunette’s room, unknowingly drawing the other three to peek out from their own doors. 
“I SWEAR TO GOD TOORU. IF SHE DOESN’T SHUT UP YOU WILL NEVER SEE THE LIGHT OF DAY AGAIN.” You emphasized your threat by loudly pounding your fist on his door, then swiftly retreating back to your room, slamming your door for good measure. You put your earbuds back in and tried to focus on the music that filled your ears.
Thankfully, you eventually drifted to sleep, but the groggy feeling you had the next morning did not dissipate, even with the large coffee you had made. After fumbling with your keys for what seemed like forever, you were met with the faces of your roommates, all waiting to greet you. They each gave you a warm smile, which normally would brighten your mood a bit, but the sight of Tooru’s face made a frown appear on your face. Without a word, you disappeared into your room and threw yourself onto the bed, hoping to catch up on some sleep.
“What did I do?” Hajime immediately slapped the back of Tooru’s head in response. “You idiot! She had an exam today and you haven’t even apologized for keeping her up!” Hajime clicked his tongue in annoyance at his best friend. Tooru rubbed the back of his head to soothe the pain. “Well how do I make her forgive me? I didn’t know she had an exam!” 
Hajime merely shook his head, “Figure it out.” he said before going to check on you. As he opened your door, he found you– jeans and all – laying face-down on your bed. A groan of acknowledgement came from your figure, causing Hajime to let out a breathy laugh. “You okay?” 
“Headache.” Was all you managed to say before beckoning him to lay with you. He obliged, letting you roll over before laying on top of your half-made bed with you. He adjusted you both so your head would be comfortably caged in his arms, while you curled into his warmth.
“It’s alright, just get some sleep. I’ll stay with you, baby.” There it was. That nickname he gave you. It always put a smile on your face, this time no different, as you drifted off with your lips sleepily curled up at the corners.
While, yes, they were annoying at times, one could argue that they had a soft spot for you. They would often lay with you if they knew you wanted the company, just as Hajime was doing. When a boy would break your heart, you would find one of them waiting outside of your lecture hall with a bouquet of daffodils, ready to take you out to eat or to a club. With them, you never needed to watch cringey rom-coms while incessantly crying. They distracted you from the heartache, until it eventually melted away. And those nicknames, god, those nicknames. You were sure that they meant nothing, but the way that they locked eyes with you as they uttered ‘Princess’ or ‘Darling’ made your heart stop in ways that felt more than platonic. Sometimes, when you touched yourself in the dead of the night, you found yourself imagining them saying it, driving you to your climax. But you would never admit that to any of them. Just as they wouldn’t admit that you would sometimes let your moans get loud enough for them to hear, driving them to let their hands wander down beyond the waistbands of their boxers. They quickly chased their high, knowing that without the sweet noises of your pleasure seeping through the thin walls, they would be left unsatiated.
You awoke to the delicious smell of food wafting in from the kitchen. After stretching a bit, you opened your eyes to find Hajime no longer next to you. You followed the smell into the main area of your apartment, finding the boys sitting at the kitchen counter chatting while Tooru stood with a pink apron on. 
Your small laugh caused them all to turn their heads to wear you stood, a smile appearing on each of their faces. You walked up to them and put your hands on the counter, surveying the mess left on top of it.
“I made you your favorite! And before you say anything, I was just about to clean up.” That drew another giggle to fall from your lips. You mumbled out a ‘You better.” as Tooru wrapped his arms around your form. “I’m sorry for keeping you up last night, please forgive me?” 
“ Fine, just buy a gag for the next time you wanna bring one of them home.” The four laughed while you began to set the table.
After dinner, Tooru told you to put on a movie while the rest of them did the dishes and grabbed something sweet to snack on. You opted to take a quick shower before doing so and changed into a comfortable tank top and shorts. As you plopped down on the couch and simply chose to re-watch The Hunger Games, Hiro and Issei sat down on either side of you. Issei guided you between his legs, allowing your head to lay on his chest, as Hiro moved your legs into his lap. Hiro draped a blanket over your form, as you gave him a small smile of thankfulness. Soon after, Hajime and Tooru sat in the smaller armchairs and started the movie. 
You’ve seen this movie a million times, after all it was your favorite. But as you watched Katniss tie herself to a tree in an attempt to get some sleep, you began to grow bored. You shifted from your position, fidgeting in hopes of becoming comfortable again. “Sit still, pretty girl. I wanna know what happens next.” You heard Issei whisper into your ear. You freeze. For some reason, the mixture of the hot breath that you felt on your neck and the raspiness of his voice made your stomach form a knot. But it wasn’t until you felt Hiro’s hand start to slowly travel up the length of your leg that you finally realized what you were feeling. You felt hot, making you squirm even more. Issei’s arm snaked around your middle, holding you in place. “I said sit still. We’ll give you a reward if you’re good.” Suddenly it felt like your senses were heightened. The feeling of Issei’s arm and Hiro’s wandering hands made your breathing come to a halt. Is this a dream?
“Do you trust us, pretty girl?”
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