#AND THEN A HUSH WENT THROUGH THE CROWD | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

delusional-day-dreamer · 4 months ago

Text

Last Friday Night - p.b

‣ paige bueckers x reader!

‣ nika's version of this fic

‣ wc: 1953; sorry this is so short and lowkey not that good?

‣‣ synopsis: you and paige have kept your relationship on the dl for a while now, but what happens when your inebriated selves slip up on kk’s live? pretend the ncaa's lift on cannabis for athletes happens before the start of the 23-24 season!

‣‣‣ a/n: guys i'm so sorry for the utter lack of content but I just got back from camp and i am ready to feed y'all, i got a lot of ideas cooking up and i'm really hoping i can post a lot more while i have the time. also for the multiple versions, i genuinley couldn't choose who to write this about, so i just did both!

8:42 am

To say that you and Paige were in trouble by the events of last night was a little bit of an understatement. Both of your phones were blowing up by your respective coaches, teammates, close friends, and all of your social media accounts.

As you scrolled through your tiktok, text messages, instagram tags, and just about everything else on your phone while laying next to Paige's sleeping figure in her bed, it only reaffirmed one thing in your head.

You and Paige majorly fucked up.

12:07 am; where it all went wrong

With your volleyball season and Paige's basketball season being in their respective peaks during this time of year, you had barely gotten a chance to spend time with your girlfriend alone. The two of you were either travelling for away games, at practice, in class, hanging out with your friends or teammates, or busy studying. Needless to say, you missed Paige. A lot.

Which, combined with the weed pen you were hitting periodically, loosened your inhibitions to a whole new level inside of Ted's fairly crowded bar.

It wasn't jam-packed, but there was a decent crowd of older college students for a Friday night in October, especially since Halloween was soon to be approaching in two weeks.

Normally, you and Paige weren’t big on PDA, at most you would hold hands or give small pecks around the team, considering the fact that the two of you kept your relationship very much on the down low, not so much a secret as very private. You never denied any allegations but basically never posted together on your own, unless the two of you ended up in the background of someone else’s pictures.

Social media had a lot of speculation, edits, rumors, etc, surrounding the two of you, as you had no connection to the team as a volleyball player yet still hung out with them regularly. But either way, you and Paige always just minded your own business and kept everything very hush hush. Except for tonight.

Paige was sort of sober, she had done two shots with some of the other girls while you mostly just smoked a few times, not wanting to get super high, but just enough to let the tingly sense of giggly euphoria wash over you.

Yet one thing you failed to consider when choosing weed over alcohol for tonight was the fact that it made you incredibly horny. That, combined with the fact that you and Paige hadn’t spent any time together in the last three weeks, let alone have sex, were the leading factors of tonight.

The rest of the basketball team was spread throughout the bar, some were at a table not far from the two of you, messing around on KK's live, while others were dancing, drinking, or mingling with their other friends.

Which left you and Paige alone, squished together in the corner of the bar top. You were leaning with your back against the wall, standing in between Paige's spread legs from her position facing you atop the stool. Her hands were holding onto your bare thighs, occasionally removing her left to take a small sip of her drink before dutifully returning to your legs.

"I'm just saying P, we could definitely sneak out without anyone noticing, everyone's too busy doing their own thing," you attempted to convince your stubborn girlfriend, sweetening the notion by rubbing your hands up and down her jean-clad thighs.

As D1 athletes, it was obvious that the two of you had toned and muscular bodies, but one of Paige's features you found most attractive were her muscular thighs she built from her time in the gym and on the court, especially the way they would wrap around your head while eating her out.

"We'll leave soon baby don't worry. Besides," Paige leaned into your ear, her warm breath sending shivers down your spine. "I already promised I would make up the last three weeks to you tonight yeah? What's another hour ma?"

You bit your bottom lip as Paige pulled back, thudding your head on the wall behind you as your eyes trailed over the small smirk Paige held, now using her fingers to draw small circles on your thigh.

"Fuck, you're driving me crazy like this Paige," you reached your right hand over to the bar top, desperate to take another hit of your pen to ease the influx of horny thoughts running through your mind.

Before you could bring the vape up to your mouth, Paige grabbed your waist and pulled you into her, and despite her sitting position, you still only had a good two inches over her.

"You're not gonna share baby?" Her teasing eyes gleamed up at you as she licked her lips in anticipation.

You immediately knew what she meant by that, the two of you doing it all the time whenever you're smoking or vaping together (let's be frl, they're college students, it's NORMAL).

You smirked at her suggestion, leaning into her before taking a deep inhale of the weed, allowing as much of the smoke to enter your lungs as possible before using your left hand to grab Paige's jaw, pressing your open lips against hers to shotgun the smoke into her mouth.

You didn't even wait to finish exhaling all of the smoke and taking another breath before enveloping Paige's lips into yours hungrily, eagerily gripping her waist with the hand still holding the vape.

You kissed her passionately, deepening the kiss as you slipped your tongue into her mouth, the mixture of the rum and coke she was drinking earlier and the earthy taste of weed making your head spin.

You continued to make out for a few minutes, gently pulling away while tugging her bottom lip with your teeth, gazing down at her closed eyes and blissful expression.

"You finally ready to go home P?" You teased, licking your swollen lips at her finally needy expression.

"We're getting the fuck out of here, right now," she rushed out, flagging down the bartender to pay off her tab and the second she got her credit card in hand, interlocked her fingers with yours to drag you out of the bar.

Completely unbeknownst to the two of you, KK and her live had been at the table diagonal to you the whole time, and while her body covered the two of you behind her while sitting, the only shield you had quickly disappeared when she stood up, leaning over the table to steal some of Ice's food when it had been set down, completely exposing you to her two thousand viewers, who were no doubt screen-recording.

The camera clearly caught your lips against Paige's blowing smoke into her mouth before leaning in to kiss her, and despite the two of you being on screen for less than a minute, it was enough to cause an internet commotion.

KK's eyes scanned over the comments as she sat back down, blocking your frames as she shoved a few fries in her mouth. Her eyes widened at the sudden influx of comments about you and Paige, leaning in to figure out what was going on.

"I, what? There's no way y'all," she whispered to the table of Nika, Ice, Carol, and Jana. Aubrey leaned in from KK's right side, trying to figure out what had happened.

Covering the camera slightly, KK, and everyone else, turned around to witness you and Paige's little makeout session ending and the flirty whispers exchanged.

"Unfortunately tonight's live is gonna have to end here girly pops, and if you think you saw something, no you didn't!" KK exclaimed as she quickly turned off the live, the table erupting with laughter at the situation. The whole team had placed bets on how long it would take you and Paige to fumble, and half of them had just lost a hundred dollars at your shennagains.

The walk back to Paige's apartment was brief, filled with flirty touches and short pecks to tide the two of you over until you finally entered home, Paige immediately pushing you up against the front door, moving her lips down your neck and around your collarbones with gentle grazes of her teeth and soothing licks.

"P please, stop teasing," you breathed out, grasping Paige's hair tightly from her scalp with your hand, pulling her face up to yours to gaze down at her with a pleading expression.

"Aw, my poor baby," she cooed, mocking your horny desperation for her, but thankfully Paige wasn't that cruel.

She led you over to her bedroom, slamming her bedroom door behind her as she pulled your shirt over your head, unfastening the bra clipped behind your back all while reconnecting your lips as she laid you down onto the bed.

You moaned into her mouth as her long fingers bunched your skirt up by your waist, rubbing gentle circles on your clit through your panties.

Before you even had the chance to ask for more, she slid the fabric to the side, running her fingers through your slick before inserting two of her fingers, curling them up into you as you let go of her lips to throw your head back, moaning loudly at her ministrations.

"Oh my god Paige, right there baby, fuck," your leg wrapped around her waist tightly as you clenched around her fingers, bucking your hips up to match her movements. Your hands making their way around her neck and back, pressing her body firmly up against yours.

Normally you wouldn't be so close to finishing within a few minutes, but the weed from earlier created a delirious fog that clouded your brain and with the way Paige's fingers were both pressing into your g-spot and rubbing your clit, your orgasm was quickly approaching.

"Fuck I'm so close P, please just need a little more," you whimpered into her ear, moving your lips down to nip at the sweet spot under her ear.

Her other hand responded quickly to your begs, twisting and tugging firmly at your nipple as she mindlessly muttered every dirty thought that crossed her mind, knowing how deeply her praises affected you.

"Doing so good for me ma, always such a good girl. You gonna be my good girl and come for me? Just let go for me baby."

Her words were the final thing to push you over the edge, the tight coil in your stomach snapping as you immediately arched your back into Paige, an endless string of moans and curses falling from your mouth as you let your orgasm wash over you fully.

"God Paige, I don't think I can even feel my legs right now," you giggled in her embrace as she slowly eased her fingers out of you, sucking the remnants of your orgasm off them before wrapping them around your waist, laying you over her as she laid onto her back.

"Hm, fucked you that good huh?" She smirked, using her clean(ish) hand to brush the slightly sweaty strands of hair that had fallen in front of your flushed face.

"I don't know why you're getting so cocky Bueckers, haven't even had my turn with you yet," you teased, running your fingers over her stomach, tugging at the remaining fabric on her body.

"Thought you just said you can't even feel your legs?"

"Good thing I don't need them to fuck you then yeah? Don't you think my fingers and mouth will be enough for you P," you retorted, shuffling your body down the mattress so you could finally have your way with Paige.

9:13 am

Instagram

y/n l/n posted a story

550 notes · View notes

pin-k-ink · 4 months ago

Text

precious // hoshina soshiro

tw ⇢ hoshina being an overprotective hubby, mentions of complications during childbirth, mentions of injuries, unplanned pregnancy, lactation kink, nipple play, fingering, orgasm denial, unprotected sex, breeding kink, daddy kink, dirty talk, semi public sex, squirting

wc ⇢ 6.8k

Your breath hitched in your throat as Hoshina crowded you against the bedroom door, his powerful frame bracketing you in with sinewy arms planted on either side of your head in an inescapable cage.

"Ya sure about this, baby girl?" he rasped, leaning down to ghost his lips across the thundering pulse at your throat. "Goin' back out into the field so soon after..."

He trailed off, throat bobbing with a convulsive swallow as he fought to keep the emotions off his face. You knew what he struggled not to voice - the reminder that it had been barely over a year since your last combat deployment...when you spent those endless, agonizing hours birthing his child in the medical ward.

Raising one hand, you traced the hard line of Hoshina’s jaw until he finally tilted his stare back to meet yours fully. The look of naked worry shining through those indigo depths made your chest constrict sharply. This was the man who had nearly torn the entire base apart searching for you that fateful night, convinced something catastrophic had unfolded after the readings from your suit went haywire.

Only to find you safely secured behind lockdown, laboring to bring his daughter into the world despite the field medics' best efforts to whisk you away at the first sign of complication. You still remembered the haunted awe etched across Hoshina’s chiseled features when he finally burst through, coated in sand and viscera but somehow the most beautiful sight you'd ever laid eyes on.

With Setsuko bundled in one arm, he had dropped to his knees at your bedside and gathered you both against his heaving chest in a rib-creaking embrace, lips mapping every inch of exposed skin between ragged apologies and feverish gratitude. As if you were both incredibly precious gemstones he'd nearly lost to the relentless hunger of this world's darkness before reclaiming at the last possible second.

You would never forget that moment as long as you lived - the reminder of just how easy it could all be snatched away in the blink of an eye. Which was precisely why you were so adamant about cutting the suffocating, overprotective tethers Hoshina had woven around you both in the aftermath and reclaiming your duties as a combat officer.

"Soshiro..." you murmured, palming his cheek firmly to hold his gaze as your other hand drifted down to press over the soft plane of your abdomen. "My body is healed, and Setsu is thriving. You can't keep us locked away forever out of some misguided sense of duty."

A muscle ticked in Hoshina’s jaw, the stark truth of your words resonating through that stubborn cavern of protective instincts still screaming to shield his family at any cost. You could practically see the battle raging across his features as he grappled with acknowledging your self-determination versus the compulsive need to snap you both back behind reinforced barriers until the end of days if he had his way.

"I almost lost ya," he gritted out at last, the hushed rasp of anguish bleeding through more vulnerability than Hoshina would ever dare allow any soul besides you to witness. "Sittin' there helpless while yer vital signs went haywire, wonderin' if I'd get to hold ya one last time before—"

You cut off the words with a decisive shake of your head, fingers slanting across his lips to halt the destructive path he would undoubtedly travel down given half the chance. "But you didn't lose me," you stated with steely certainty. "And I'll be damned if you or anyone else tries to treat me like a porcelain doll now that—"

"I don't think ya understand exactly what that night did to me," Hoshina interjected, a sudden ferocity burning behind his eyes as he trapped your wrist with one massive hand.

In the same motion, he hauled you flush against the rigid wall of his chest, tangling his free hand into your hair to cant your head back at an angle that bared your throat completely to his roving stare. You couldn't help the trembling full-body shudder that rippled through you as he leaned down to brush parted lips across your overheated skin.

"Do you have any idea how close ya came to bleedin' out 'fore I got there?" he rumbled against your thundering pulse in a tone made of smoke and sin. "What seein' ya like that, hearing the panic in the medics' voices about 'fadin' vitals' and possible hemor—"

His words fractured into a raw, wounded keen stifled against the juncture of your neck and shoulder. You wove your hands through his soft ink-dark locks, cradling him close as the powerful frame you adored more than life itself trembled with the force of his anguished recollections for several drawn-out beats.

When Hoshina finally regained some semblance of his renowned composure, you felt an undisguised press of wetness smear across your scorching skin. He drew back just enough to bore straight into your eyes, his own glassy and ringed with reddened fatigue no amount of bluster could fully mask.

"Ya don't get it, [Y/N]..." Hoshina growled in a wrecked rasp that seemed torn from the very depths of his psyche. "In that moment, there was nothin' - not the kaijiu threat, not the entire fuckin' war...not a damn thing that could have stopped me from slaughterin' anyone or anything to reach yer side when—"

His throat convulsed sharply as he visibly wrestled the rest of his confession into viselike submission. When he continued, it was in a lower, rawer octave that sent tingles of primal awareness skittering across your nerves.

"You and Setsuko are my entire universe, baby girl. My reason to keep endurin' this hell and clawin' my way back home to you both time after time. So you'll damn well forgive me for doing everythin' possible to keep my precious treasures safe and untarnished..."

With that, Hoshina yanked you forward again until you were once more plastered flush against that furnace of sinewy power and virile strength. This time he buried his face against the fragrant spill of your hair, drawing in heady lungfuls of your familiar scent as if drowning.

"I'm not ready to lose ya, sweetheart..." he rasped in a desperate, muffled whisper. "Even if it pisses ya off, even if ya hate me for it...I'll still do everythin' in my power to keep ya both sheltered from harm. It's the only way I can keep breathin'."

The raw agony and stark vulnerability driving those hushed words lanced straight through you. Without hesitation, you curved your arms around Hoshina’s torso in a grounding embrace and nuzzled your face against his heaving chest. Beneath your cheek you could feel the jackhammer cadence of his heart pounding, the visceral echo of just how profoundly this entire situation had shaken his foundations.

For long stretches, you simply swayed in concert while murmuring wordless reassurances and nonsense endearments into the charged stillness. The lulling rise and fall of your joined bodies gradually lulled Hoshina back from whatever haunted precipice his mind had been teetering over.

At last you felt the rigid tension slowly begin to unspool from his corded muscles, the fractures of his trademark ease and command settling back into place like tectonic faultlines. Hoshina let out a quavering sigh, warm breath stirring the fine hairs along your nape just before his lips found your crown in a lingering caress.

"I know," he rumbled at last, hoarse rasp reverberated against your sensitive whorls. "Pretty big fuckin' ask for a hardass like me to just rip those protective shackles off so easily."

You couldn't help the helpless little giggle that slipped free at his self-deprecating gruffness. Tilting your head back, you slanted your mouth across Hoshina’s in a deep, searching kiss that quickly stole both your breaths in its heated wake.

When you finally resurfaced, it was to find his indigo irises hooded to thin slivers of banked intensity - black fire flickering hungrily beneath those fanned lashes as he drank in your glazed expression and slick, swollen lips.

"Just promise me one thing, baby girl..." Hoshiro practically purred in a deliciously sinful cadence far removed from the impassioned pleas just moments ago. His tongue swept out to capture the tang of your lipgloss with delicate, purposeful relish. "Keep yer proximity protocols limited to long range fire support and recon sweeps only. I get even a whisper ya tried pulling some heroine bullshit out on the front lines..."

His grip on your jaw tightened fractionally, fingertips imprinting delicious brands of possession that made you squirm with visceral awareness. "And I'll make absolutely certain ya spend our next reunion face down and ass up over my knee. Understood?"

You could only whimper a breathless, mewling assent that seemed to stroke those banked flames behind Hoshina’s eyes into twin pillars of searing azure.

"Good girl..." he growled in blatant satisfaction before slanting his mouth over yours once more, all silken heat and scorching dominance.

Hoshina’s deep, rumbling laughter echoed through the spacious nursery as he tickled Setsuko's tummy, drinking in her tinkling peals of delight. The simple act of playing with his precious daughter was one of the few reprieves that could completely untether him from the relentless shadows of combat for however brief the respite.

"Again, Daddy! More tickles!" she squealed breathlessly between giggles, violet eyes sparking with unrestrained mirth.

Unable to resist those imploring looks - so reminiscent of her mother's own persuasive stares - Hoshina obliged with another flurry of gentle raspberries blown against Setsuko's downy soft skin. Her chubby features scrunched up in fresh mirth, tiny fists swatting at him playfully as she squirmed in his lap.

For those fleeting moments, the rest of the war-torn world beyond these secure walls faded into blessed white noise. There was only the simplicity of his baby girl's joy, her infectious laughter coaxing matching rumbles of contentment from Hoshina’s depths. A reprieve from the endless grind of violence and ugliness he willingly shouldered to safeguard these infinitely precious moments.

As Setsuko finally began winding down to breathless hiccups and intermittent giggles, Hoshina felt his attention drifting despite his best efforts. Suddenly his mind began replaying those last images of you suiting up for deployment earlier. The way your suit had molded to every lush, feminine curve like a second skin, practically searing the outlines of your form into his mind.

He remembered the intoxicating scent of your floral shampoo caressing his senses as you passed by for final munitions check. How your fingers had trailed along the chiseled ridges of his arm and shoulder in an unconscious caress, sending tendrils of scorching need licking through his veins. Most of all, Hoshina recollected the look of quiet determination blazing behind those luminous irises - the promise that you would indeed uphold his conditions out in the field this time.

With some difficulty, he managed to wrestle his thoughts back to the present as Setsuko twisted in his embrace, nosing insistently at the window. "Daddy, look! Trucks coming! Mommy's home now?"

Her words lanced straight through the heated reverie clouding Hoshina’s consciousness like a splash of ice water. Immediately, every paternal instinct snapped into laserlike vigil, gaze narrowing at the unmistakable rumble of armored transports entering the compound.

Carefully, he untangled Setsuko from his lap and rose in a single smooth motion to cross the nursery. "C'mon, kiddo, let's get ya settled with Miss Tomi again for a bit, 'kay? I'll bring Mommy up to say goodnight once she's finished her debrief."

It was only after ensuring his daughter was transferred into her caretaker's custody that Hoshina allowed his brisk strides to eat up the hallway distances towards the arrival hangar. Despite his lingering reservations and misgivings, you were still a consummate soldier and enforcer of duty. Which meant protocol dictated you would report directly to Captain Ashiro upon returning rather than seeking him out first.

As expected, the residential wing corridors were vacant, nothing but the baseline echoes of the facility's equipment and climate control systems. No sign of you just yet, likely still undergoing post-mission triage and data offloading. With a grunt, Hoshina altered course towards the Operation Room where he was certain to find you eventually.

Sure enough, as the familiar open atrium came into view, Hoshiro picked up the unmistakable form of Okonogi already stationed by the monitor. She seemed...twitchy, if the constant fidgeting and shifting of her weight was any indication. More than once, her gaze flicked nervously towards the double-wide access doors as another incoming group filtered inside, only to snap back with clear avoidance when she spotted Hoshina’s looming silhouette.

Curiosity rapidly morphing into heightened suspicion, Hoshina angled his approach to intercept the young operations leader before she could make any hasty retreats. "Okonogi-chan," he said in greeting as she started guiltily. "Everythin' okay?"

Her cheeks flushed an even darker umber shade as she swallowed hard, clearly striving to regain some composure under Hoshina’s hard stare. "V-Vice Captain Hoshina! I was just, um, waiting for the debriefing t-to...that is, I mean..."

Trailing off pathetically, Okonogi shot one more wild-eyed glance over her shoulder, as if praying another distraction might materialize to spirit her away from this interrogation. No such salvation came, however, so she slumped with a tiny sigh before pivoting to fully face him.

"The truth is...Platoon Leader [L/N]— uh, Hoshina experienced a medical incident during today's mission," she managed to rasp out without quite meeting Hoshina’s gaze squarely. "She...collapsed in the middle of the kaiju engagement before her platoon could neutralize the threat."

For one suspended beat, all the ambient systems noise and distant voices faded into hollow static around Hoshina’s consciousness. Then a roaring, lancing pressure began expanding inside his skull as the implications took root and sprouted into a torrent of nightmare visions.

You collapsing amidst rubble and viscera, camera feed whiting out with nothing but bursts of interference...hissing emergency channels shouting about unstable vitals and internal hemorrhaging...the empty, agonizing silence that would follow if he lost the other half of his reason for living...

By the time Hoshina regained control over his body and lungs, Okonogi had already instinctively staggered back several paces with eyes widened in trepidation. Whether it was the rictus glare he leveled in her direction or the barely sublimated snarl reverberated through his chest, she clearly realized just how deeply the news gored his core.

"What. Happened," he grated out in a tone made of jagged obsidian and gritted glass. Each syllable seemed to flay away another shred of Okonogi's composure, leaving her bobbing in visible terror under his stormy scrutiny.

"She—she didn't sustain any injuries as far as the readings from her suit indicate," the girl managed in a breathless tumble of words, eyes still averted deferentially. "Platoon Leader Hoshina's condition was stabilized en route, and she regained consciousness before the transport returned to—"

A dismissive snarl ripped free from Hoshina’s chest before he realized it, sending Okonogi physically flinching with a whimper. He didn't have the patience or wherewithal to deconstruct her clinical details - not with a million shrieking demons howling in his mind all painting the same chilling canvas.

You lying motionless and bloodied, skin waxen beneath your combat suit...those vibrant eyes dimmed to soulless pits staring back at him in vacant accusation. All because he allowed himself to indulge your foolish, self-destructive whims by easing his protection despite every primal instinct lighting up like solar flares.

Barely cognizant of his actions, Hoshina pivoted sharply and began stalking towards the medbay with ground-eating strides. He needed to see you whole and breathing with his own two eyes, hear your voice lance through the maelstrom of torment roiling through his thoughts. Nothing else would ever be enough to exorcise the demons until he could physically inhere every detail to memory once more.

"V-Vice Captain!" Okonogi called out faintly behind him, voice wavering between obligation and self-preservation. "I have to insist you wait until Captain—"

"I don't take orders from you," Hoshina snarled over his shoulder without breaking stride, every fiber of his being now a missile locked onto its solitary target.

Finding you, holding you, ensuring your wellbeing with his own senses...this was the only imperative that registered anymore. If anyone tried barring his path, they would simply become another obstacle to be neutralized without mercy or hesitation.

With the medical ward’s towering threshold now looming ahead, Hoshina braced inwardly for whatever maelstrom of emotions awaited him just beyond that point. Either he was about to eclipse into divine rapture at finding you still whole and resilient in defiance of the odds...

Or he was descending irrevocably into a personal hell from which there could be no climbing back this time.

Hoshina burst through the medical wing's reinforced hatches like a vengeful hurricane unleashed. Several staffers in white lab coats startled and backpedaled at his sudden, explosive arrival, eyes widening at the thunderous expression twisting his features.

"Where is she? My wife! Platoon Leader Hoshina. Where is she?!" he snarled without preamble, stalking further into the sterile chamber with forearms already coiled for confrontation. "If any of ya valued yer lives, you'd tell me where—"

The venomous threat fractured in the back of his throat as a familiar, melodious giggle drifted through the air - your giggle, distinct and infinitely precious. Hoshina’s chest seized with such force he nearly staggered, every previous thought and raging instinct funneling to that single point where the gentle peal had originated from.

Whipping his head around with near-violent intensity, his gaze finally locked upon your form seated atop one of the beds. You were framed in profile, backlit by the crisp fluorescents and laughing at something the attending medic hovered beside you had said. To Hoshina, you may as well have been haloed by celestial radiance itself.

Before conscious thought could fully reassert itself, his legs were already carryining him forward in a smooth, prowling gait - a wolf homing in on the mate it had scented from miles away. He reached your side just as your giggles tapered off into sporadic chuckles, mouth still curved in that radiant smile he had convinced himself mere moments ago may never grace his world again.

Then you noticed his presence at your side, eyes widening fractionally before crinkling at the corners as a fresh smile bloomed across your features. "Well hey there, big—oof!"

The attempted greeting dissolved into a breathless exhalation as Hoshina enveloped you in his arms, crushing your frame against his chest so tightly it stole all remaining oxygen. Not that he could bring himself to loosen his grip in the slightest at feeling your solid warmth, the unrelenting cadence of your heartbeat thumping against his sternum in vivid tandem with his own thundering pulses.

"Idiot..." he rasped out in a devastated keen muffled against the crown of your head, throat convulsing with stifled emotion. Emotion that thrashed and roiled within like a snarling tempest barely bound, demanding cathartic release in any way he could physically pour himself into you. "You beautiful, infuriatin', ridiculous idiot..."

He could feel the perplexed quirk of your brow against the fevered skin of his neck as you craned your head back slightly, attempting to put distance between you so he could drink in the full force of your searching stare. Hoshina didn't allow it - couldn't bear the thought of a single inch separating your bodies even for an instant after nearly being rent asunder by loss.

So instead, he gathered you even closer into the protective, unyielding circle of his embrace with a minute adjustment, until you were practically molded into the solid ridges and hard planes of his body down to the last degree. With his nose buried in your fragrant hair, Hoshina simply stood there quaking for several agonizing moments, drinking in every infinitesimal detail like a dying man gulping at a desert oasis while he could.

Until finally you stirred again and his name emerged in that soothing alto lullaby he adored, now ribboned through layers of fond exasperation and confusion. "Shiro...? Hey now, I'm alright, see? No need for my big bad soldier to fly off the handle on some poor doc who was only—"

You broke off into a muffled squeak as Hoshina abruptly yanked you even tighter, until the bones in your ribcage creaked ominously under the colossal forces binding you to him. "Shut up," he growled in a voice made of smoke, gravel, and something deeper...something fracturing along the hairline faultlines of his legendary restraint with each fresh recollection. "Just shut yer perfect mouth for one goddamn minute and let me..."

The gruff demand trailed off into stark silence as the white-knuckled intensity gripping Hoshina momentarily stole even his ability to verbalize his most primal needs. You seemed to sense the magnitude of his internal tides, though. Because rather than bristle at the brusque order, you simply relaxed your tense posture by increments and nestled closer into his sheltering bulk.

Long minutes were spent with you both swaying in minute shifts, simply existing within the shared space of respiration and mollified thunders slowing echoing against the medical pod's walls. Hoshina drowned in the familiar bouquet of your shampoo and bodily effluvium, savoring the unmistakable evidence that you were indeed whole, present, and gloriously undamaged in his embrace.

If you thought the way he had gathered you close before was intense, it was nothing compared to the scorching brand that ignited and seared straight through your core as he slanted his mouth over yours in a profound claim. Hoshina’s kiss was branded possession, smelted forges of banked heat contained behind that carefully metered exterior he always presented finally detonating in savage release.

Stars spun dizzily in your vision as his tongue swept past the seam of your lips in ferocious demand, pillaging everything in its path. Just as you were teetering towards delirium from the frenzied onslaught, feeling the familiar stirrings of arousal begin pooling between your thighs, a pointed ‘ahem’ broke the tension.

You both broke apart with audible gasps, Hoshina’s grip somehow tightening even further around your waist in a clear warning not to allow any space to linger. Together you pivoted towards the interruption to find one of the senior medics surveying you both in exasperated resignation. The woman's no-nonsense demeanor and arched brow brokered no argument as her mouth opened to deliver the verdict.

"Apologies for the, ah...delay , but I wanted to ensure we had a finalized diagnosis before debriefing Platoon Leader Hoshina's status," she intoned with a degree of deference that only applied to Hoshina’s rank rather than his outburst just moments ago.

The Vice Captain inclined his head a bare fraction, silently prompting the medic to continue now that she had his undivided focus. With another clipped sigh, she tapped her pen against data-tablet once before she held it out for the both of you.

You immediately recognized the anatomical schematic as your own physiology. And there, nestled and highlighted in diffusing aurora refractions...

You felt the breath stall in your lungs as you took in the undeniable second life signature nestled in pulsating tandem with your own heartbeat. Beside you, you sensed more than saw Hoshina go utterly motionless with the sole exception of his jugular hammering with steadily mounting intensity.

"It appears Platoon Leader Hoshina's loss of consciousness was induced by a combination of factors typical for approximately 8-12 week human gestation," the medic stated in clipped, clinical tones. "Increased hormone production, depleted plasma levels, intermittent vascular compliance...all of which manifested rather acutely while exerting continual strain."

She turned the anatomical display to reveal a progression of imaging scans highlighting your uterine area. Sure enough, cradled within the diffusing nebulae and heat-maps...an unmistakable fetal form beginning to take shape.

"Essentially, your physical ordeal seems to have triggered an extreme response which resulted in your body's rather dramatic effort to preserve the prenatal incubation environment amidst perceived duress conditions. A natural biological adaptation, if highly disruptive in this particular instance."

The explanation filtered only peripherally through the twin shock waves engulfing your reeling psyche. All you could see was the tiny, unmistakable shape huddled securely within those layers as if in silent defiance of your ignorance.

Pregnant. You were pregnant...with Hoshina’s child all over again.

Unconsciously, you felt your hand drifting towards the suddenly fraught terrain of your lower abdomen, fingers splaying over the subtle yet taut swell with quiet reverence. How had you missed something so monumentally life-altering? Beside you, Hoshina remained eerily statue-still save for the ragged hurricane of his breathing steadily intensifying until it thundered from his flared nostrils like a war drum cadence.

Then, without preamble or warning, your entire world shifted on its axis once more as he scooped you up crushingly close in a bizarre echo of his initial greeting. This time, however, there was none of the wild mania or single-minded desperation motivating his motions. Only a sort of quiet and profoundly stunned devotion rendering his powerful form inert as his broad palms mapped the slight swell of your abdomen almost reverently.

"Soshiro..." you breathed out around a throat thickened with emotion too visceral to articulate. "Are you...?"

"Hush now, pretty girl..." his words were a rolling rumble of molten gravel, smoky with naked awe. "No more talkin', not until yer husband has had his moment, yeah?"

With that gentle reverence, Hoshina tilted his brow against yours and simply...existed in rapt communion with the newly revealed secret you now cradled between your parallel stances. No protocols, no urgencies or crises beyond this singular miracle holding the whole of his universe in rapturous thrall.

Just he and you...plus the most precious addition of all.

Hoshina kept you cradled against his powerfully muscled frame even as he strode out of the medbay, one arm banded securely beneath your knees while the other splayed possessively above the brand-new swell of your abdomen. You watched the myriad expressions flicker across his chiseled features - naked awe, blazing possession, softening to tender reverence at each minuscule caress against the taut feminine swell...

"Should we go get Setsu?" you murmured at one point, already imagining the delight that would spark your daughter's face upon learning of her imminent promotion to big sisterhood. "I know she'll be thrilled to—"

"Already taken care of, baby girl," Hoshina interjected in a low, rumbling rasp without breaking stride. His indigo stare remained transfixed upon your midsection as if hypnotized. "Soon as I heard the news, my first call was ensurin' our girl would be looked after through the night."

You opened your mouth to question his meaning, only to go slack-jawed as realization sank in with molten intensity. ‘Through the night?’ Did Hoshina actually intend to...

The answering heat blazing in those indigo depths as he drank in your dawning comprehension was enough to scorch away any lingering doubts. You felt your breath hitch sharply, entire body flushing hot beneath Hoshina’s scorching stare. Suddenly you were arousingly, viscerally aware of the slight stretching heaviness confined beneath your taut bodysuit - your breasts tingling with new sensitivity, the unmistakable proof of life blossoming inside weighing you down with the most intoxicating sense of feminine appeal.

A flicker of Hoshina’s tongue swiping across his lower lip made your newly hypersensitive nerves throb in yearning. You squirmed instinctively against his embrace, thighs clenching in an unconscious attempt to alleviate the steadily mounting ache already pulsing in delirious demand between them.

Without needing to be prompted further, Hoshina sank into an easy crouch and deposited you on the nearest flat surface - a long, reinforced table usually reserved for tactical planning and readiness evaluation. The cool, sterile metal beneath your back made you gasp, suddenly arousal-ripened nipples peaking against the thin material in helpless reaction. But any feeble protests withered on your tongue as Hoshina’s calloused hands began roaming with unhurried, passionate focus every lush new curve and dimpled expanse his heated stare hungrily mapped out.

"Look how utterly sexy you've already gotten carryin' my child..." he rasped in a voice gone gravel-rough and honeyed with undisguised sin. One palm drifted up to knead and caress the generous swell of your breasts in tactile rapture. "So damn soft and absolutely made for givin' life..."

Despite the scorching frisson of need steadily mounting throughout your core, you somehow found the presence of mind to mouth a half-hearted objection. "Sh-Shiro, the door...we shouldn't—"

"Shh, shh...let me take care of my sweet girl," he husked out in that deep, resonant timbre that liquefied your bones. With his free hand splaying burning possession across your lower belly, Hoshina dipped his mouth to trail open, openmouthed kisses down the long elegant column of your throat. "Wouldn't want to waste a single second now that I've got ya all wet and riled up..."

His voice dropped into an octave of pure sin on that last word, every syllable seeming to lash synapses into feverish overdrive. You whimpered at the brand of his teeth scoring your thundering pulse, back arching instinctively into the delicious friction building between your bodies.

Not needing further encouragement, Hoshina set about divesting you of every last stitch of material separating his roving mouth and ravenous gaze from the delicious new swell of your figure. Within moments you were splayed in nude abandon, quivering with arousal and utterly hypnotized by the look of naked hunger blazing from his features.

"That's my good girl..." he purred in molten gravel against the hollow of your collarbone, free hand smoothing possessive claim down the newly defined curve of your hips and thighs. "Just lay back and let Daddy take his fill of this gorgeous little body...been far too long since I got to taste yer milk…or anythin' else for that matter."

The way his tongue slicked out to trace your areola in teasing, featherlight circles sent your brain into a tailspin. All thoughts of protest or resistance disintegrated into molten, visceral need. Especially as his mouth latched around your aching nipple and began suckling in languid, thorough draws, tongue flicking the straining peak in rhythmic pulses.

It was as if a floodgate of sensation had been unlocked by the sheer intimacy of his actions. Suddenly the pressure mounting between your thighs became unbearable, hips rocking forward instinctively to grind against Hoshina in an attempt to slake that growing, insatiable fire.

"So greedy for my mouth, aren't ya, baby girl..." he growled around a mouthful of breast, teeth grazing your swollen flesh as his free hand began kneading your neglected globe in firm, massaging motions. "Daddy's got plenty to give, no need to rush now..."

With a final lingering pull, Hoshina released your nipple with a sinful pop and leaned back just enough to admire the fresh evidence of his attentions. You felt your cheeks flood with molten heat as you watched him drink in the engorged, glistening state of your breasts, nipples puckered and aching in desperate need.

"Gorgeous..." he purred in a silken rasp of praise, free hand drifting lower to caress the sensitive hollows of your inner thigh. "Yer so fuckin' beautiful to me, mama, no wonder ya had my poor heart stopped earlier."

You were still attempting to process the heady mixture of arousal and raw emotion roiling through you when Hoshina leaned down to lap at the opposite breast. The sudden contact of his tongue circling the straining bud made your spine arch off the table in a breathless arc, fingers clawing for purchase against his muscled shoulders.

"Fuck! Shiro, please, I can't—!"

Your desperate pleas fractured into a mewling cry as he sealed his lips around your nipple and suckled hard. At the same moment, his free hand groped a handful of your other breast and squeezed, just hard enough to make your milk spurt forth in an erotic spray.

Hoshina growled around a mouthful of creamy liquid, drinking deep as if he was the one teetering on the edge of madness and not you. His eyes flicked up to lock with your own, searing irises smoldering with such unrelenting focus the air seemed to sizzle between you.

"So damn gorgeous when ya feed me like this, mama'," he rumbled in a voice made of sin and dark promises. His grip on your breast tightened fractionally, coaxing another jet of rich milk. "Gonna spend the rest of my days breedin' ya over and over so you'll never run dry for Daddy..."

With a final swipe of his tongue, Hoshina straightened and drew the back of his hand across his glistening lips, savoring the remnants. For several suspended moments he simply gazed down at your supine form, drinking in the sight with a level of intensity that made you flush with heat and shyness.

Then his palm skated possessively over the slope of your stomach, coming to rest atop the taut skin where a brand-new life had been kindled. A slow smile curved his lips as he rubbed his thumb in slow, circular caresses.

"Might even have to keep ya like this after this one's born, baby girl. Just stay nice and soft and full for Daddy..." he growled, fingers drifting to cup your swollen folds in a possessive grip. "Maybe then ya won't be so inclined to take off and play hero out there where yer not needed anymore, yeah?"

Your protests died a swift death on your tongue as Hoshina plunged one thick finger into the soaking heat of your pussy. With his free hand still resting atop your stomach, he began pumping with measured, languid strokes - his gaze locked unblinkingly upon yours the entire time.

"That's right, my perfect little housewife..." he coaxed as your hips bucked in instinctive counterpoint, pussy clamping down with greedy demand. "Let Daddy take care of ya like this forever...ya won't even miss the battlefield once I get ya good and bred again as soon as this one's out."

"Shiro...oh, gods, please..." you moaned as his fingers began curling and scissoring in deliberate, unhurried motions, dragging against that most sensitive cluster of nerves deep inside.

"That's right, darlin'," Hoshina purred, bending low to nuzzle at the underside of your breast, lips skimming across the supple flesh. "Ya just lay back and let Daddy do the hard work...keep my baby girl safe and cozy while I handle all the heavy liftin'."

Your hips bucked in frantic desperation as his mouth descended on your straining nipple once more, lips pursing to suckle in firm pulls. His free hand continued rubbing in gentle circles across your abdomen, while his fingers began pumping faster and harder between your thighs.

You could feel the pressure building behind a wall of sheer ecstasy, every muscle drawn taut and vibrating. Just as you began toppling into the abyss, Hoshina pulled his fingers free. You whined in protest, writhing for the friction he had stolen away.

"Please, Shiro, I need it..."

"Shh, easy now, mama," he murmured, shifting his body weight until he was fully settled between your thighs, arms banded on either side to brace his bulk. "Know what ya need better than yerself, remember? So just relax and let Daddy do his job, yeah?"

With a single smooth thrust, Hoshina hilted himself to the hilt inside your spasming core, eliciting a choked cry from the both of you. For several seconds, he remained motionless and shuddering, simply reveling in the sensation of being seated fully inside the slick heat he had claimed years ago.

"Holy shit, I thought it would be different," he groaned, forehead pressing against your own as his pelvis began rocking in a steady rhythm. "But yer still just as tight and hot for my cock as the first time I buried myself in ya, aren't ya, baby girl..."

You whimpered incoherently, hips rising to meet each driving stroke in delirious counterpoint. Hoshina growled in approval, increasing the tempo until the table rocked violently beneath the force of his thrusts. "Do ya remember? When ya tried playin' hard to get with me, thinkin' ya had the upper hand?"

As if in emphasis, he shifted his weight and began grinding his pelvis into yours in punishing, deliberate circles. Your cries pitched to a higher, keening note as the pressure built towards that glorious crescendo once more.

"Shoulda known…you were mine the moment I laid eyes on ya," Hoshina continued in a voice made of molten gravel. His eyes bore into yours with single-minded, searing intensity. "Shoulda fucked ya stupid right then and there...but I'll be damned if ya weren't worth the wait, baby girl'."

He punctuated his statement with a brutal snap of his hips that had you keening beneath him. Your entire world was narrowed down to the molten stretch of him inside you, the friction of his pubic bone grinding into your swollen clit, the overwhelming presence of his gaze burning you to ash with nothing but adoration.

"Love ya, mama...love ya so much I can't ever think straight whenever ya take off like that," Hoshina's voice cracked with emotion, fingers threading into your hair to angle your face up to his. "I'd do anything for ya...just don't ever make me live without ya, baby girl."

"I-I won't, I promise," you sobbed, overwhelmed with the intensity of his emotion, your own body teetering precariously on the razor's edge of release. "Please, Shiro, make me cum, need it so bad, please—"

He immediately rose to his full height, both hands gripping the generous swell of your hips and angling you at a steeper incline. Your legs instinctively hooked around his waist as his strokes became deep, savage pistoning - the new angle allowing his cock to strike all those tender spots inside you just perfectly.

"Cum for me, baby girl, wanna see ya soak my dick..." he gritted out, every corded muscle in his powerful frame flexing as he worked himself furiously in and out of your sopping core. "Let Daddy see that pretty pussy milk my cock, yeah?"

His fingers tightened into bruising crescents against your hips as the pace of his thrusts became increasingly ragged, a low groan building in the back of his throat. You felt his balls drawing up tight, his shaft swelling as the familiar pulsating throb began signaling the moment he could no longer hold back.

The moment you had him entirely, utterly, and irrevocably undone.

Your entire body went rigid, toes curling and spine arching as you crested over the edge into an inferno of blinding ecstasy. Hoshina snarled gutturally as your core spasmed, hot liquid spurting and gushing around his cock just as your tits sprayed another fountain of rich milk, splashing his chest.

"Holy—fuck! That’s the sexiest goddamn thing I've ever seen," he grunted, fingers digging into your hips to lock you into place as he drove himself to the hilt once, twice, and then held...

"Fuuuuck!" Hoshina bellowed, head thrown back in agonized rapture as his cock erupted inside you. Thick ropes of cum gushed into your still-convulsing depths, splashing the mouth of your womb with hot seed. You could feel him twitching, jerking, and pulsing as he pumped everything he had deep inside, until your pussy was thoroughly and completely drenched with his essence.

When the last shuddering spasm finally left him, Hoshina slumped forward with a groan, catching himself before he collapsed fully on top of your sated frame. Your legs remained tangled around his waist, both of you too blissfully spent to move for several long minutes.

After what felt like an eternity, you felt Hoshina stir above you, a satisfied hum reverberating deep in his chest. Cracking open one eye, you found his mouth curled in a lopsided grin of smug masculine satisfaction, gaze glimmering with pure adoration.

"I didn’t know you could do that," he rasped, eyes dipping to watch the way the last few rivulets of milk trailed in pearlescent streams down your breasts. "If I’d known all it took was some good, rough fuckin' to get ya squirtin' like that, I woulda done it sooner—"

"Shut up," you groaned, cheeks flooding with molten heat. Your hands flew up to cover your face as if they could hide your embarrassment, only to be stopped by the iron bar of Hoshina's forearm.

"Uh uh, no hidin' now, darlin'," he drawled with an easy smirk, leaning forward until his forehead brushed against yours. "Besides, no use being bashful now. I’ve seen all those filthy, gorgeous bits you were tryin' to hide..."

He punctuated his statement with an easy roll of his hips, causing a fresh wave of his seed to trickle from your swollen core and down the curve of your ass. You shuddered in delight, still feeling the aftershocks tingling through your limbs.

"And ya can bet yer pretty little ass I'm gonna see plenty more before the night is through, mama..."

#kaiju 8 x reader smut #kaiju 8 smut #kaijuu no. 8 x reader #kaiju 8 x reader #kaijuu no. 8 #hoshina soshiro x reader smut #hoshina smut #hoshina x reader smut #soshiro hoshina x reader #hoshina soshiro smut #hoshina soshiro x reader #hoshina soshiro #soshiro hoshina #hoshina x reader #soshiro x reader smut #soshiro smut #soshiro x reader

511 notes · View notes

fanaticsnail · 5 months ago

Note

law for kissing booth please 👉👈

(or shachi if he's already got a ton of requests, or if your heart feels this would be a better read, dealer's choice!<3)

The Kissing Booth - Law for Bby-Deerling

Word Count: 1,400+ (They are meant to be drabble length, I got carried away)

Notes: This was the first request for Law in the kissing booth, and I seriously hope I have done your boy some justice. It was meant to be a little drabble, but I wanted to capture a little bit of longing in there for him. Come get a kiss from your main man, Deerling!

Sitting patiently on your wooden stool, you heard several strings of barked laughter off ahead. Lulling your head to the side, you furrow your brows in an attempt to pick up on the hushed conversation between them. Loud cackles, soft chuckles and jokes both crude in nature, and quite hilarious prompted you to giggle along with them.

“It’s two per ride for the ferris wheel,” a more feminine voice chirped out enthusiastically, “What do you say, Bepo? Want to join me for a loop?” A joyful yell of glee sounded more akin to an emphatic roar joined the chorus, along with two other voices arguing alongside.

“Oi, no fair, Ikkaku!” a nasally voice called out, followed by a deeper baritone thereafter of, “Yeah, that means one of us will have to sit out!” More arguing insured, a soft, kind voice interrupting and saying: “I’m happy to miss out, Ikkaku. I’m likely a bit too big to ride, anyway.”

You tried to drown out the arguing, softly tapping your knees and focussing on the different sounds, smells and the soft feeling of warm wind falling against your skin from the ocean shore. The blindfold was a strange comfort to you, the warmth of the silky material feeling at home over your eyes and almost welcome the longer you wore it.

“No, Bepo. You go on ahead. I’ll sit out this round,” another gruff voice spoke lower, and far more even-toned informed them. No further arguments occurred, the sound of laughter and gratitude flew away from your vacinity.

Softly angling your face away from the booth, you drew your hands up to begin toying with the edged hem of the eye shield against your face, adjusting it so the material lay flush with your skin as to remain more comfortable beneath the shroud. You shook your head, adjusting your hair before sitting upright and waiting for your next guest to approach the booth.

As if on queue, a soft rustle of paper pressed itself into the jar beside you as the guest presented their Berry offering to your humble booth. You smiled inquisitively, turning towards where you suspected the guest was to be.

“This seat taken?” The deep voice from earlier asked you politely, “I just need to sit down for a bit, and all the other seats around seem to be otherwise occupied.” You nod with an empathetic smile, gesturing to the general vicinity to where the wooden stool was placed in front of you.

“It's all yours. I noticed a bit of a lull in the crowd, you’re welcome to stay as long as you like,” you shrugged, relaxing into your chair and enjoying the laughter from the various rides and booths surrounding.

Music began to play on the grand stage, soft finger plucking of a familiar melody painted the air with its mastery. A vocalist, bassist and drummer joined in on the chorus, singing their hearts out to create melodies and harmonies within the grounds. Both of you sitting in front of one another seemed to both have a similar idea, humming along to the tune and both smiling at one another when you caught the other singing.

“You been here long?” the guest asked you after the song concluded, prompting you to think about the duration of your volunteering position in the booth.

“You know, I’m not entirely sure,” you laugh through your nose as your smile turns shy, “As soon as the blindfold went on, it’s like everything became too long and too little all at once.” You offer him a slight shrug, turning away and listening to the drums begin to click in the next tune.

“I hear that. That’s how most of my time ends up nowadays, sans blindfold of course,” he offered you the same dry laugh through his nose, causing your attention to fall back to him. “My crew, they just know how to test me sometimes. Doesn’t mean I love them any less.” You nod attentively to his confession, reaching forward and gesturing for him to take your hand.

“Aren’t friends marvelous?” you giggle at him, squeezing his hand once he placed his within your grip, “That’s how I came into volunteering for this mess: friendship. The things we do for the people we love.” He returned your gesture, almost apprehensive in the way he squeezed your hand in turn.

“Speaking of, they're likely to return back in a moment,” he uttered in a voice just above a whisper, “So, do you mind if I…?” You lulled your head to the side and smiled at him curiously.

“If you…?” you asked in return, gasping in a shocked breath as you felt cool fingertips brush your hair away from your face, prompting you to gasp out a soft, "Oh!" You felt his lips hovering over yours, his breath meeting with your skin and the temperature of his face elevating your own to flush your cheeks with.

“I thought,” his lips whispered and caressed your skin with a gentleness you didn't anticipate, “Since I'm already here, you know?” His lips tingled against yours, the tangible heat falling from them the closer he inched forward. He hesitated, holding his face an eyelash’s width away from your lips, “If that's okay with you, I mean.”

Nodding gently, you lean forward and close the final distance between you, and claim his lips beneath yours in a soft kiss. Wasting no time, your guest cards his fingers over your scalp and draws your face closer to his to deepen the embrace you're sharing together.

He releases your hand and raises it to join his other hand in cradling your face while arching into you. You feel his toned chest pressed against your own, knees slotting together like pieces of a puzzle in perfect synchrony. Angling his chin, he softly parts his lips and deepens the embrace, humming against your mouth and claiming more of you into him.

Your hands find purchase on his thighs before raking up his legs to rest on his hips, slowly mapping his skin and committing each ridge and divot to memory. You feel your chin meet with the subtle scruff of facial hair, the coarse strands scraping against your face and tickling your skin beneath it.

Tilting your face, you both begin to mouth at each other and turn and tilt your heads to match each other's intensite energy. Passion begins to simmer in your chest each moment that passes between you. His hands move to grasp the scruff of your neck, holding you stationary as he allows himself the luxury of taking complete control and dominating the kiss.

His tongue darts from between his lips, caressing and tingling against your skin before you welcome him into the kiss by grinding your own against his. Just as you begin to deepen the motion, you're both brought out of your trance by whistles and hollars echoing around your booth.

“Wooh, get ‘em, Cap’n!” the nasally voice cackled from earlier, the baritone counterpart joining in with, “Use your tongue! More tongue!” Several whistles reverberated around you, prompting your guest to freeze against your lips.

Smiling, you press a final kiss against him to seal the embrace with a finality before fully pulling away from him.

“Sorry ‘bout them,” he grunted sheepishly, his close proximity causing you to feel the flush radiating from his features against your hands and face. “My crew… they're a lot.”

“Ah, the earlier sentiment returns,” you chuckle warmly, “Aren't friends marvelous.” He joins your chuckle, softly releasing you from his embrace and caressing your cheek beneath his palm.

“Thank you for your company,” he uttered softly, “I appreciate your conversation, and-... and the other thing. It's been a while since I've-... You know?” You fill in the blanks mentally and offer him a soft, polite nod in affirmation.

“Thank you for offering me company at my booth,” you smile up at him, releasing your hands from their position on his hips. He lingers on the stool for a moment longer before getting up with an exasperated sigh.

“Alright, let's go,” he gruffly ordered, the troop behind him grunting out a soft, “Aye, sir,” in response. You wave to him, not truly aware if he was paying attention to you or not, but offering him an extension of your politeness regardless.

Law was paying attention, trying to catch his breath and extinguish his growing fluster tinting his cheeks. He was truly moved by your kindness, your conversation, and the way you so easily matched his energy with each motion. He was hoping to catch you at the end of the festival, but hoping to not seem overeager to earn more teasing from his subordinates.

Only time will tell if you were open to seeing him again, but he truly hoped you would.

#one piece #x reader #ask snail #snail answers #trafalgar law #trafalgar d water law #law x reader #traffy x reader #trafalgar law x reader #op law #kissing booth event #follower milestone #one piece x reader #one piece fluff #kissing

438 notes · View notes

hairyjocktf · 8 months ago

Text

Filling the Roster

Aidan was just starting his second year at university. The summer home with family had been exhausting and he was pumped to be back on campus with everyone and to get back to his routine. Ever since going off to college he’d been trying to work on himself, including going to the gym for the first time in his life. He’d gotten into a good routine his freshman year but hadn’t managed to gain much muscle yet, to his dismay. He was hoping to change that this year. The first day of classes had been a snoozefest, just reading syllabi and some uncomfortable ice breakers, so he was ready to get out of the classroom and into the gym again.

He walked into the campus gym and glanced around to see what was open. He noticed what looked like the wrestling team in the back, hogging all the squat racks and making their presence known with obnoxious grunting. Making a mental note to avoid that area today, Aidan went over to the treadmill to warm up. He’d always been on the nerdier side growing up, and while he did have a year of exercise under his belt now, he still didn’t fit in with that kind of crowd. Aidan put in his earbuds and got to it, the next hour flying by as he did a mild total body workout to ease himself back in.

Satisfied with himself for the day, he grabbed his water bottle and headed to the locker room. Normally he hated changing here and would just walk home first, but he had a club meeting that evening and he didn’t have time to go all the way back. He walked in and was immediately assaulted by the stench, the room absolutely stunk of BO and sweat. Yeah it was a locker room but this was a bit much, he thought as he breathed through his mouth. The wrestling guys had evidently finished their workouts too, as the room was noisy from all their chatter and yelling. They’d left their gear scattered all over the benches and floor, leaving hardly any room for anyone else. Aidan rolled his eyes and squeezed his way through the chaos to an empty corner. Despite working out for an hour he hadn’t sweat much, he never did, so he skipped the shower. Midway through changing he realized the room had gone silent. He turned around to check if the wrestlers had all left but instead was greeted with a sight that made him freeze.

The entire team had gathered behind him and now stared at him. The biggest guy, who Aidan recognized as their captain, Beau, broke the silence.

“Hey pipsqueak,” he said with a shockingly deep voice for a college student, “We found out today we’re down a man this season. We gotta solve that ASAP, y’know?”

Aidan was confused and intimidated. “Uh… Sorry to hear that man,” he said with a crack in his voice. He took a step back only to hit the wall of lockers behind him.

“Yea it’s a real shame ain’t it,” the wrestler took a step towards Aidan. “It’s a good thing I’m a great recruiter,” he laughed to himself. There was an almost sinister grin plastered on his face.

Aidan felt cornered, realizing that he was standing there in just his boxers. “What do you want with me dude?” He asked frantically as the wrestlers slowly closed in on him. The putrid stench in the room was only getting worse as the jocks came nearer.

“Like I said, we need a replacement wrestler,” Beau replied, pulling a yellowed jockstrap out of his bag that was on the bench. “I think you’ll enjoy getting to know the team.”

Aidan’s heart was pounding through his chest, he didn’t know what they wanted with him but he knew he needed to get out NOW. His fight or flight (mostly flight) instincts were kicking in. He looked past the wall of jocks to the door of the locker room, about 20 feet away. Before he had a chance to act, two of the wrestlers pounced. They grabbed Aidan’s arms and held him in place as Beau walked up to him.

“What the fuck, let me go!” Aidan cried in distress, struggling against his captors. They were bigger and evidently much stronger than him, not letting him budge at all.

“Hush now, I think you have some real potential here, I’m just going to let that all out,” Beau told Aidan before grabbing his boxers and ripping them off. Aidan’s flaccid cock was on full display, as were the paltry few hairs he called his bush.

“Well, I’ve seen worse,” Beau chuckled to himself. He took the dirty jockstrap in his hand and pulled it up Aidan’s legs letting it snap into place around his small member.

“Let me go!” Aidan yelled, continuing to try and break free from the jock’s hold.

“Just give it a moment,” Beau said, kneeling down to look closer at Aidan’s groin. Aidan’s struggling lessened as he noticed a strange sensation coming from his crotch that was seemingly getting more intense every second. It felt… good almost. No, it did feel good, it was almost like he was jerking off without even touching himself. He felt his dick start to harden as the sensation of pleasure grew.

Beau laughed, “There you go man! I knew you’d come around.” Those words barely registered in Aidan’s ears as he stared at his dick, watching it grow erect and push against the jockstrap as his body was flooded with pleasure hormones. It felt incredible, like his dick was growing harder than ever before. It in fact was, growing steadily past his previous five inches, reaching seven, eight, as it really started to tent the jockstrap. A tingling feeling arose within Aidan’s crotch at the same time as Beau leaned in to take a closer look.

“Aww yea, look at those pubes start to come in. Fuck that’s hot.” He watched as dark hairs sprouted out of Aidan’s mostly bare crotch, like thick weeds shooting out of his skin. Aidan groaned as the sensation of hair growing added to his already euphoric state. Hairs continued popping up across his groin, filling in denser and denser as they spread out. “Looks like our man’s goin’ through puberty right in front of us,” Beau said as he rubbed his hand through the sprouting bush. Aidan’s body shivered in pleasure, Beau’s touch seemingly encouraging more hairs to push out of him. The pubic hairs grew longer and curled together, climbing up the shaft of his now massive cock. Beau grinned as he noticed Aidan’s balls swelling, growing to the size of eggs, then tangerines as they stretched his sack and hung lower. That was just the beginning, as the same thick dark pubes wormed their way out giving him a thick coating. At this point the jockstrap was barely covering anything. Aidan’s now nine inch cock stood completely erect, tenting the fabric and letting his new bush explode outward. Those thick pubes were starting to produce their own musk, not too dissimilar from the general stench of the locker room. The hairs spread out even farther, beginning to climb up above his waistband and onto his stomach, as well as spreading to his inner thighs with a thick rug. Aidan hung in the jocks’ arms nearly limp, his cock dribbling precum like a faucet.

“Well I think this has served its purpose,” Beau said to himself as he pulled the jockstrap off Aidan, letting his thick cock snap up against his stomach. The flow of precum soaked the area around his navel, and where the precum had wetted his skin, more thick hairs began to crop up. Beau went back to his bag and exchanged the dripping jockstrap for a wrestling singlet. It was damp from sweat and being stuffed in Beau’s dank gym bag, and stank to high heaven. With the help of the other wrestlers, Beau got the tight singlet onto Aidan’s lanky body. It didn’t really fit, but there was an enormous bulge from Aidan’s recent developments. He pulled the shoulder straps and let them snap down onto Aidan’s bony clavicle. That immediately pulled Aidan out of his subdued hormone-fueled slumber.

“Oh, god, oh, oh what the fuck,” he said, processing the past few minutes. Part of his brain was still in adrenaline mode, telling him he needed to BOLT, while another part was content with this situation, elated even. The longer he breathed in the musky air of the locker room the louder that voice became, and the more he wanted Beau’s hands back on him. He looked up away from his own body and made eye contact with Beau, a grin crossing his stubbled face.

“You already look good in that singlet man, it won’t take much now,” Beau told him. Aidan’s mind was running at light speed but his mouth was not on the same wavelength.

“What are you-, why are-, how the-,” Aidan was trying to get his thoughts out when the pulsing, pleasurable sensation began to return. His words trailed off as he looked down at his own flat chest, watching with wide eyes as two muscular pecs began to push out. He felt his whole body begin to tighten as muscle started popping out all over. Pronounced bone disappeared under layers of thick muscle that began to fill out his form, and the singlet. What had previously been impressively slack for a spandex suit was now taught against his body, expanding as he did. His pecs grew sore as they continued to grow, blocking Aidan’s view of his lower half as they packed on size. On the new horizon of his chest he noticed something, tiny hairs were poking out of his mountainous pecs. They started small and slow but quickly began shooting up all across the vast expanse of his chest. The hairs itched as they grew in, Aidan wasn’t bothered, he was in awe at the forest that was engulfing his new muscles. He ran his hands through the growing hairs, pulling gently on the hairs as they continued their advance across his chest, working up towards his neck and down across his stomach. As the hairs matured they grew darker and curlier, tangling into a thick rug across his pecs. Beau watched Aidan become enraptured by his own jockification. He noticed a growing wet spot in his groin where the precum continued to leak out constantly.

Beau stepped back up to Aidan and planted his hand on his chest, feeling the growing fields of hair. That alone was enough to get a soft moan out of Aidan, putting a devilish grin on Beau’s face. He pinned Aidan’s growing frame against the locker before raising one of his arms up. What he found was underwhelming; a handful of light wispy hairs scattered across the armpit. That would have to change. He stuck his hand into his own sweaty, hairy pit and rubbed it around, coating his fingers in thick jock sweat and musk. He sniffed them just to make sure it was potent enough, and his body was never slacking in the sweat department. Taking his moistened hand he went back to Aidan’s nearly hairless pit and massaged the sweat in. Within moments he felt little prickles of stubble against his fingers. Beau saw dark pinpricks appearing across Aidan’s pit, spots that quickly erupted into thick, wiry hairs. The original wispy hairs grew dark and curly as the sweat did its work, and soon Aidan had a respectable amount of hair under his arm. But that wasn’t enough for Beau, he dug out some more musky sweat from his own pits to finish the job. Soon enough Aidan’s pit hairs completely coated the area, even reaching out to connect with the pelt on his chest. Beau’s fingers were combing through the thick hairs, gently tugging on them and pulling out more growth. Aidan moaned again; the feeling of Beau’s hands stroking his growing pit hairs was euphoric. He was slipping more and more from his old self as his body grew to love this new reality, the jock voice in his own head growing louder.

Beau was satisfied with the pit situation after he was able to smell Aidan’s newly produced stench from a distance. He stepped back and watched as Aidan’s body continued to adjust to the singlet. In the same way his pecs had ballooned, his arms began exploding with size. His delts, triceps, biceps, and forearms grew intensely sore as they put on years worth of bulk in moments. Aidan was finally starting to look like a wrestler who could hold his own on the mat. The definition on his new muscles was quickly hidden as hair began to sprout across his boulder shoulders and down his arms. What started as a few hairs popping up across his shoulders grew into a flood of dark hair that surged down his arms, and the singlet left it all visible for the crowd. The hairs continued growing denser, curling around each other as the hair began to resemble fur on his bulky arms; he would look like a total beast of a man in action. Aidan’s hands got the same treatment, his palms grew bulkier as his hands stretched out in size. He could hear the popping sounds of his growth but was too flush with hormones to care, barely registering the thick hairs growing on the backs of his hands. Beau could already tell Aidan was going to become one of their best wrestlers, with his immense size and build. All he needed was to let the inner jock blooming inside of him take control.

After the growth in Aidan’s arms slowed down, his legs picked up the slack. His quads beefed up, thighs nearly shredding the singlet with their girth. Beau watched as Aidan’s bulge twitched and leaked as his legs grew longer and thicker than they’d ever been. His feet began to stretch and grow, expanding to a size 15 before becoming covered by hairs. Those hairs raced up his calves and onto his thighs, leaving him with a thick fur coating for his tree trunks. Aidan had grown to the point where he could take most of the jocks on the team, almost rivaling Beau’s height and mass. Beau knew he’d made a good call with Aidan, he’d been so similar before he joined the team. He couldn’t help but rub his hands over Aidan’s furry legs, feeling the coarse hairs run through his fingers. He could feel Aidan’s heart rate increase. He almost felt envious of him, experiencing immense growth like this was a once in a lifetime event, and he knew Aidan was almost complete.

Aidan groaned as his body fully filled out the singlet, stretching it to its limit with his massive muscles. The fur that had coated his body felt incredible rubbing against the fabric, keeping his cock at full mast, pressed against the singlet so everyone knew. Beau looked him up and down; Aidan had the body of a tank, a heavyweight champion, but a severe case of babyface. Beau had an idea, he went back to his grab and grabbed his mouthguard. It was grimy and had a couple hairs stuck to it, but it’d do the trick. He grabbed Aidan’s pudgy face and opened his mouth, shoving the guard in. Aidan sputtered as he gagged on old spit and wiry hairs.

“Aw, the hell bro what was that,” he complained weakly. Beau smiled, he was already speaking more like a jock, and that voice was getting deeper. He watched as an Adam's apple pushed out of Aidan’s neck, cementing his new rugged voice. Aidan’s face started to darken a shade as the shadow of thick stubble spread across his jaw. It quickly pushed out, brown hairs coating his face. They grew longer and thicker, with more popping up between old ones, giving him an incredibly dense short beard. Aidan moaned as the hairs spread across his jaw and up his sideburns to his hair, which gained some lighter highlights and shortened into a more athletic style. His upper lip erupted with the same thick hairs, giving him a full short beard. His jaw squared up and his eyebrows grew bushier, before his ears grew and stuck out from his head more. He finally looked fully like a champion wrestler. Aidan stroked his hands through the dense growth, finally pushing him over the edge. His breaths quickened and grew louder as he climaxed, grunting as cum erupted out of his thick cock. It pushed through the fabric of the singlet, pouring down the front of it. The euphoric trance he’d been in began to fade, but the old Aidan was gone. He was Aidan the wrestler, a jock ready to conquer his path on the mat. Instinctually he flexed, showing off his beefy arms and hairy pits. The scent emanating from his pits matched the rest of the locker room now, and he took a big whiff of it out of habit, that manly odor really turned him on. Beau laughed and grabbed Aidan’s hand, pulling him upright. His cum was still dripping down his singlet onto the floor, adding to the pungent scent of the locker room.

“Welcome to the team bro,” Beau said, looking forward to their best season yet.

#male tf #hairy tf #jock tf #hair growth #hairy #hairy chest #hairy pits #beard #my writing

712 notes · View notes

leth-writes · 3 months ago

Text

yandere silco x reader who betrayed him

“Shit, get out!” You screeched, shoving the enforcer forward and away from you as you spotted Sevika’s harsh snarl from across the crowded, dimly lit bar. He booked it, running for the backdoor. You were so fucked. You tried to follow him, but were stopped by Sevika’s strong grasp on your forearm.

“What the fuck are you doing?” She growled, spitting mad, in your face.

“N-nothing! I was just telling him to leave me alone,” you stammered, feeling the blood drain from your face and the adrenaline pour down your spine. It felt like your head was going to explode from the pressure of your thoughts racing, trying to create an excuse.

“Bullshit,” she huffed, dragging you through the back exit after the enforcer. When the two of you entered the alleyway, the enforcer was nowhere to be seen, not even a hint of him to be found. “Shit,” she cursed, spitting. She whipped you around and slammed you to the brick wall, hand holding you up solely by your throat.

“You better tell the truth, you little rat, Silco isn’t here to save you…” She punched the wall by your head and you startled even further, letting out a little whimper of fear. “Please, please Sevika! I promise, I swear on my soul, I wasn’t doing anything!” You cried, fingers clutching and scrabbling at her thick, coiled forearm.

She huffed once again, face turned to look out the entrance of the alley in contemplation. “Ple-” you began, but her free hand shifted to cover your mouth, hand reaching from your nose down your chin. Fuck, you couldn’t breathe! You didn’t want to die in this dingy little alley, never having escaped your captivity. You scrabbled against the brick walls, fingernails breaking under the force, then scratched at her forearm, leaving long, deep grooves that soon welled up with blood.

You tried to gasp, to get even a breath of air through the tight grip of her fingers, but it was futile. Slowly, ever so slowly, your world began to darken, the ringing in your ears drowning out Sevika’s harsh panting. Then, everything went dark.

It was cold, so cold you couldn’t feel your fingers. That was the first thing you noticed as you bolted awake. You were in the chair in Silco’s back room, strapped down with thick leather ropes and wearing an undershirt and your thin, cloth pants. How did you get here?

“I imagine I’ve been keeping your chain a little too long, little one,” You jumped at Silco’s voice, head craning to see him without any luck. He was standing behind you. The room was dingy and dark, a complete lack of visibility for your groggy, grimy eyes. You blinked fiercely, trying to clear them.

It was then you noticed the thick leather strap clamping your mouth closed, tongue brushing against the rough, grime-coated material. It was then the memory hit you, as your head throbbed; Sevika had caught you, and she had knocked you out. Fuck, were you going to die in this chair, was he going to inject you with shimmer, contort and change your body beyond your control until you were unrecognizable?

You whimpered once again, arms straining against the thick straps as you tried to break even a single hand free. You failed. “Hush now, there’s no use in struggling. I won’t be making the same mistake again,” Silco said, the soft hint of a threat in his voice. He sauntered closer, hand trailing along your shoulder as he crossed in front of you. Silco leaned in until his lips barely brushed the material of the leather gag. “It’s not your fault, poor thing, I forgot you needed extra… guidance. A stupid little thing, aren’t you, unable to learn not to bite your owner even as he feeds you,” he continued, hand reaching up to grasp at your chin gently.

“Well, no use fretting now, it’s too late. We’ll have to start over, right from the beginning.”

Your muffled pleas went unheeded as Silco reached for the thin metal shock collar on his desk.

#Silco x reader #Yandere silco x reader #Arcane x reader #yandere arcane #lethwrites

295 notes · View notes

skelly-words · 7 months ago

Note

Hey! If cool I was wondering if you could write tentacle smut. I’m not too sure on the plot but wanted reader to be very much in some sort of public setting with loads of people just watching as she gets railed by a tentacle. The kinks I wanted to ask if they could be in there is Voyourism (public sex), public nudity, squirting and/ watersports and overstimulation.

If not that is totally okay! I just wanted to ask :) and am exited to see what you come up with if your comfortable with writing this

okay cool so....

Not proofread, tags in the ask + spit a lil bit, ass eating, idk futa shenanigans, ahhhh milk (i kinda scared myself w/ this at the end)

My brain immediately went to big networking conventions that businesses have where the important people from the different corporate branches come together to drink, schmooze, and brag about sales numbers to each other.

Your boss asks you to come with her to help with the demonstration. The travel expenses and hotel costs are all covered, so you agree to spend the weekend on Wall Street with her.

I hate this, but there's the slightest bit of lore, so i ECOURAGE you to read the other parts first -> masterlist

MINORS DNI, stay away 18+ only

The presentation room of the hotel caters to corporate mixers like this. Circular dinner tables decorated with charcuterie fill out the hall. Your knee bounces nervously as people begin to file in. Saturday had been boring, spent bumming around the all-inclusive spa while your boss attended other company presentations not too dissimilar from this one.

"Relax." Your boss whispers. She sits in the squeaky folding chair beside you. Her hand lands comfortably on your thigh, stilling your knee with her warm touch. "All you have to do is bend over the podium."

You nod and try to emulate her flippant attitude. The bounce returns to your knee anyway because nerves are impossible to hide. The minutes slip by as people settle into their seats. The dimming lights act as a cue to hush the small talk and side conversations.

“Ready?” She gives your thigh a heady squeeze.

“Yea, ‘m ready,” you mumble.

Her gait is steady and comfortable up to the front of the room, and you trail behind in the shelter of her shadow. You smiled unsteadily at the sea of unfamiliar faces. Your boss tapped her knuckles on the podium, clearing her throat to get the rooms attention.

“Thank you all for coming,” she begins. “My branch is testing a few new methods of increasing productivity today. It’s all based on the same principle, ‘a happy mind is profitable one.’

“Of course, we’ll begin with the demonstration, just to prove how much it’ll help you focus on the rest of the presentation.”

An interested hum sweeps through the crowd as she leads you around the front of the podium. You aren’t wearing panties, only a skirt, which immediately becomes apparent as she lifts your waist up to the podium. The sturdy wooden surface slopes slightly up toward the room, propped up for dozens of eyes ogle your bare skin.

The position makes blood rush to your head, almost dizzy from the heavy heartbeat in your ears. Your skin feels hot and sensitive. The skirt tickles, sliding down the gentle slope of your back. You wonder if they can see how wet you are, cunt aching from all the attention.

The speech sounds so far away, like all your senses are dulling to make way for the electricity running beneath your skin. From the corner of your eye, you see a couple workers wheel three tanks up to the front of the podium.

The terrariums are large and damp, too fogged up from humidity to see anything through the glass. They're pushed into a neat line, starting at your side and progressing to the front of the stage in single file. The tank closest to you is the smallest. It's the only one you can properly look into because the creatures have suctioned themselves to the wet panes. Their round bodies flatten into mounds on the glass, little mouths busily opening and closing. You watch them, mindlessly observing them inch in little circles, around and round, maybe spirals if you spent enough time staring. You shiver, imagining the pattern it could suck into your skin. From your position now, you wonder if you look anything like that mouth on the glass to that polite crowd of people.

You feel a warm hand skim over your ass, inviting your neatly pleated skirt to drape over your back completely. The gauzy brown fabric went well with your blouse, and you remember packing it for this conference a week in advance. It feels silly now, to think what you're wearing matters when it's really the demonstration that's important.

The first tank slides open with a squeak, and your boss pulls a writhing blue tentacle out with a cloud of steam following it. You can barely see what's happening in your peripheral vision and only when you turn your head to the side. She wastes no time at all, taking the companies limited resources into account, the conference room was only reserved for an hour. Her other hand traces up and down your back, nails first, to scratch gently through the layers of fabric.

"You're doing great, hun." She whispers the reassurance into your ear, low and husky so only you can hear it. In one motion, she presses the end of the tentacle into your butt. It's bigger than what you had at home, which is what you prepped for. Her hand flattens to soothing circles when the pain comes through in your groans. You quiet to a whimper as the thing flails, twisting to orient itself inside you. It still hurt, but you were adjusting quickly to the pressure in your ass as it slithers down to find your pussy.

Now, no matter how you turn, you can't see what's going on. The suckers drag against you, that much is easy to discern from the sense of touch. The rest of your senses besides that have gone totally useless, so you watch the hypnotic pattern that the specimens in the last tank trace in the condensation.

The blue tentacle pushes into you. It's fat, thick and showy so the people in the back can see. Your eyes might be crossing from the way it slowly stretches you out. A shiny blue slime drips from every pore, sucker, and gland on the thing, making you squish obscenely from every movement. In. Out. In. Out. And your boss is still talking, you can even see the slides she flicks through when your eyes roll back, but it all sounds like white noise as the monstrous size shoves into your cunt, slipping out to momentarily attach an oozing sucker to your clit. Then it squirms right back into your hole, so slick that it runs down the inside of your thighs.

It's hopeless to imagine paying attention to anything else.

"But that's when we ran into the issue of hygiene. Clearly, this doesn't fit corporate dress-code."

That cuts through your thoughts, followed by light chuckles. The second tank slides open with a thunk, and you don't have to crane as much to see the pink tentacle calmy wrap around her arm.

"Oh, f-fuck," you finally make a sound audible over the disgusting squelch of that blue monster. She's trying to press the thick bulb at the end of the pink one into you, leaning real close, almost cheek to cheek as she forces it further past your rim. A glob of spit falls from her lips, you groan as she smears it around with her tongue.

"Just relax for me." And you're not even sure she's talking to you in that raspy tone. The hand on your back has inched lower to keep you pinned in place, and it's making you sore from how the podium’s edge digs into your hips.

Your sounds fall freely now, turning to whines as she licks you to ease the stretch. The hand on your back lightens up as the fat plug slides into place alongside the blue one. An affectionate smack lands on your ass, rubbing her warm palm over the spot as she watches the pink tentacle unfurl and flatten.

You can't see it, only whine as the weight shifts and adjusts inside you. The blue tentacle stops moving as if to behave and play nice with a friend. The gummy feelers attach as the pink tentacle latches on. It cups your swollen pussy, cleaning up the appearance quite nicely to the audience's disappointment. But your moans grow louder, echoing to let you know the sound made it to the back of the room. The little fingerlings lining the pink tentacles interior are so active. They pinch at your clit, making it slip between the soft jelly limbs while the others started playing with the rest of you.

"...And when properly stimulated, this specimen can be prompted to release its reproductive material on command." That faint comment reminds you of the eggs.

Your gasp is mixed between startled and concerned when her hand begins to brush the tentacle wrapped around your crotch. Being stuffed with the twitching blue tentacle makes you wonder where all the slimy eggs will go.

At her light brushes, the tendrils start to pull you apart. They slip inside you, just barely, enough to make your legs start to shake. You can feel them start to pour in as her thumb pushes down, squeezing out the soft spawn like horrific toothpaste as she slides the digit up from the base.

The blue tentacle comes back to life now, helping push the pink jelly into your poor pussy. You can feel the tiny limbs scoop and blue suckers fuck the eggs up against your sore cervix. And still, nobody can see. Your boss stands over you. Her hand trails between your thighs, tapping in the drying slick that's become tacky. She tugs at the tip of the tentacle, pinching firmly at the pink appendage and peeling it back.

Not all the eggs made it inside, rolling down your thighs as the mess is exposed. She's slow with her reveal, trailing her fingers through the juices to try the combination. You've gotten quieter, trying to keep your whimpers silent now that it's easier to hear. She starts to pull at the plug, and you have to bite your lip to keep it down. It doesn't wanna come out of your ass, still pulsing from so recently releasing eggs. Still, she tugs, making you squirm and clench your cunt. You've been on the edge for so long, and feeling the stretch to your rim makes your thighs squeeze together. They can barely shut to rub around your throbbing clit.

"I might as well introduce the last one then." She gives up on freeing the pink tentacle with a frustrated sigh and finally steps behind the podium to reach the tank in your eyeline. "They fit perfectly under your bra, so we'll both be demonstrating."

Your eyes follow her hand, from the lid, to inside the tank, to the buttons on her shirt. You strain to look up at her because she's standing so close, watching with jealousy as that thing sucks on her nipple. Her breasts look bigger too, spilling from her bra when she tries to squish them back into her shirt. A glance back down makes you blush. A bulge starts to bubble from her pencil skirt. It wouldn't be very noticeable if it wasn't a few inches from your nose.

"My turn?" You look up at her from between watery lashes, bending to smiling crescents when she nods. She lifts your chest just enough from the podium to let the green lump latch onto you. It doesn't seem to mind being squashed against the wood when she lowers you back down. They feel good, sucking at your breasts in a perfectly alternating rhythm. You start to feel weird, hotter as your tits get sore. The mouths pinch a little, not enough to hurt, barely more than a warning bite. You groan, the throbbing in your ruined pussy is getting worse. It makes you imagine what your boss is feeling. The pre dripping into her underwear. You probably could take her cock too if she asked you. She's still giving a presentation, talking through a slide as the buttons on her dress shirt strain. Her hand slips back to your butt, where it was yanking the bigger plug out of you.

She braces the opposite hand on your asscheek, rocking the pink tentacle back and forth to coax it out. You can barely hold sound back, dissolving into pitchy breaths when the fat blue fucker decides to start up again. It starts slow, but that pace doesn't last. After packing you with eggs, it's eager to let its cum out. Every loud thrust makes the eggs probe deeper. You can feel it in your tummy, pressed flat to the uncomfortably hard podium.

Your sensitive nipples pulse in time with the relentless suckers. You can't even care to be surprised as they spurt milk, moaning instead from the toy twisting in your ass.

The pink tentacle finally slips out of you, put back in its tank where it belongs. But you're sore, hole left gaping for the blue one to fill in as it swells. It gets bigger in your pussy too, larger with each beat. Even as she talks, her fingers can't stop playing with you, either pinching at your skin or dragging a digit through your slit. Her microphone is ther only thing keeping her intelligible over your cries, strung out from the pleasure.

Her fingers swirl around your clit, so sensitive. The touch isn't any more than light nibbles on your chest, but it makes you gasp and jump against her hand. You start to cum when she twists harder. The moans inside you spill out in one cry as you squirt. The pinch to your clit makes you spurt all over the front of her clothes.

She gasps in disgust and yanks you off the podium. The flooring is carpet, soft enough for your sore ass when you slump against the sturdy wood.

Your boss brushes off the interruption like nothing, simply indicating the conclusion of the demonstration as the slides flick to a new segment. She steps carefully between your legs when walking back to her place behind the podium.

The front of your blouse is halfway unbuttoned, however much was needed to get those creatures on, and now you notice how swollen they made your tits. You whine as the blue thing keeps moving between your thighs. There's more leverage at this angle and you don't know if you should moan or cry. In a few stunted thrusts, cum starts to fill you up, thick ropes of it that still somehow leak out from between all the eggs and the fat tentacle.

The pretty blue sheen coats your inner-thighs and the conference room floor. Something’s still wrong though. The ache between your legs isn't gone, not completely no matter how much your sore body begs to stop. It's the milk, or the hormones that come with it asking for just a little more. The demonstration portion is over. You're done, everyone's supposed to be focused on the woman speaking.

You slip a hand to your clit, circling the bud with shaking fingers. Just one more, and you'll be fine. Your boss doesn't even notice the room's eyes drifting lower. The blue tentacle indulges you, lazily moving in your cunny along with a few pumps of its warm seed. You can look at the lump it makes in your stomach from this angle.

This time, the orgasm builds fast and you have to muffle soft pants against your hand as you cum. Your poor pussy hurts, but you still need another and the tight circles on your clit don't let up.

There can't be that much more time before the hour is up and she has to get these things off you. Yet, your wrist is getting sore and weak dribbles of piss leak out of you at each peak. You notice people in the crowd hiding their arousal, and that somehow makes your crazy mind even hornier. Your abused clitty gives a heartbeat to your thumb each time someone palms their crotch or crosses their legs, still trying to be politely discreet.

The lights brighten as the presentation ends and a few odd bursts of scattered applause break out at a few tables. You still don't have the decency to leave your needy cunt alone, finally closing your legs around the blue tendril still curled up inside you as the people leave the room to pick a brochure up.

I had another anon ask abt going to find a new tentacle with the coworker from pt.2, but I kinda decided they were aliens (pink and blue both would normally use a host for mating and the suckers kinda do the same thing but for food, ig they're all just parasites sorry if that's gross), so i added a new variety into this one for you <3

A/N- how'd she do that? i would've gone ngh~ *squish* IMMEDIATLY, sry can you tell idk anything about an office job? oh well, stfu and enjoy the smut then (this is way over the top 😭) Also why did i give myself the displeasure of two (2) unnamed characters, give me names for Ms. boss or i'll start adding y/n (a threat)

#skel replies sometimes #skel writes tentacles #tentacle smut #tentacular #nsft tentacles #tentacles #monster fucker #terato #teratophillia

826 notes · View notes

pretty-sparkle-bomb · 6 months ago

Text

You are now reading Part 2 of my series!

Part 1 Part 3

The rumble of engines vibrated through your core, a familiar rhythm sending a wave of excitement. Two weeks since the cops and the car chase, and the adrenaline was back, thick in the grimy air of the deserted industrial park. A new place was chosen since the police were heavily patrolling your previous gathering ground.

Tonight's race was going to be electric, a head-to-head between Bakugo and Midoriya.

You knew the greenette had a crush on you. The way he stammered whenever you spoke to him, the lingering glances you caught him stealing – it wasn't hard to miss. A sly smile played on your lips. Maybe you could use that to your advantage tonight.

Standing at the starting line, you felt like a perfect match for Bakugo's car – a vibrant orange that soaked up the lights from street lamps and cars, mirrored perfectly by the conspicuous shade of his new car.

He had mentioned it to you over a call the two of you shared at two in the morning... it was a Pagani Zonda R, you think, remembering the blonde's smirk as he held the phone over his head, sitting on the trunk of the car, claiming it was supposed to be a surprise for you.

You decided to give him a little surprise of your own. A daring combination of shorts and a matching orange bandeau top, something that surely caught his attention. The outfit left little to the imagination and Bakugo's thoughts were running wild.

Bakugo, with a glint in his carmine eyes, sat behind the wheel, a dangerous smile playing on his lips. Lined up next to him was Midoriya, his signature curly green hair whipping in the wind as he fidgeted with the rearview mirror of what you presumed to be a Lamborghini.

As the crowd settled, a hush falling over them in anticipation, you notice Bakugo climbed out of his car. A slow smirk spread across your face. What in the world was he up to?

He swaggered towards you, confidence radiating from him like heat waves. Your breath hitched as he reached out, his rough fingers brushing yours, interlocking your hands before he pulled you close. Before you could even think, his lips were on yours – a rough, possessive kiss that left you breathless. With your free hand in his hair and his free hand on your lower back. This was sure to make it up on social media.

It was a blatant message, scrawled across your lips in a language only Bakugo could speak: you were his.

The crowd cheered and hollered and the small whine that you let out was a symphony to Bakugo's ears, a music that drowned everything else out. He pulled away, resting his forehead on yours.

You swore you saw Midoriya turn green (well, greener). He was frozen in his car, his normally bright eyes clouded with a mix of shock and…jealousy? The thought sent a playful flutter through your stomach. Maybe this race would be more interesting than you thought.

Actually, screw that. This race is going to be more interesting than you would ever imagine.

Pulling away, Bakugo left you reeling, a cocky grin plastered on his face. Then, he climbed back into his car with a wink that had your stomach doing backflips.

Composing yourself, you grabbed the microphone and addressed the buzzing crowd. "Alright racers, listen up! Tonight's race is a special one. The winner takes home the usual prize money, sure. However, we have some special guests! Everyone, please give it up for Endeavour and All Might!"

The two mentioned males reeled in, two of the most fanciest cars you have ever seen, no doubt custom made. One a striking yellow with hints of red and blue and another a crimson read, with fire designs lining the bottom and flaring up, both vehicles heavily tinted.

To say the crowd went bonkers was an understatement. People were screaming, throwing popcorn in the air, jumping wildly and flailing their arms all over the place.

"Calm down everybody. I know this is a big moment, having Japan's two greatest racers here is an unexpected surprise, isn't it?" You inquired through the mic, laughing softly.

Bakugo's face went red. Your laugh was... what was the word shitty hair said again? Cute? No, fuck that.

Your laugh was like music to his eardrums. He never wanted it to end. And the way you scrunched your nose told him that you were genuinely laughing and not forcing it.

"Alright you two, whoever wins this race will have the opportunity to be recognized by the duo of the racing world. Now, racers... Start your engines!" you raised a flagged fist in the air as the low rumbling of Bakugo's engine started up, followed closely by the wild sound of Midoriya's.

"Okay, you guys. Ready?" you grinned, reaching into your back pocket. They revved their engines, hyping up the crowd.

"Set?" you whipped out your phone and turned on the camera, turning your back to the two cars, which Bakugo loved. Your whole ass was in his sight and he committed the picture to memory. You turned on the flash as your face formed a little pout, and you clicked the shutter, capturing the two expensive cars in the background along with a whole assemblage of people.

"Go, go, go!" you screamed while turning around and swishing the flag to the ground. The sound of tyres screeching against the muddy racetrack filled the night, and both Bakugo and Midoriya shot off the line like rockets. This time, though, the race felt different.

If there was one rule about the racing world, it was probably to never let feelings get into the way. Emotions, especially uncontrolled ones, can cause serious harm on the tracks.

And that's exactly what happened.

Bakugo drove with a controlled fury, taking every turn with calculated aggression, showcasing his raw talent. Midoriya, fueled by a mix of determination and a silent vow to prove himself, pushed his car to its limits, weaving through traffic with surprising agility. One of the parts of the race was of course, a tunnel.

"Kacchan, get the fuck off of my car!" he screeched, as Bakugo closed in on him, causing his left side to graze against the tunnel wall. Midoriya knew he could've hurt innocent people if he sped up or slowed down too fast, so he had to bear the ear-piercing sound of his new paint job filing against the rough concrete.

"Damn nerd. You think you're better than me, huh? Tryin' to get her attention, you know she prefers me." Bakugo's grin never seemed to go away, swerving his car outward and just when Midoriya was about to get out of the small corner, Bakugo collied with his car again.

Midoriya's eyes glowed in the darkness. Bakugo had pushed him to his limits and sent him over the edge. Midoriya activated his nitro, pulling the custom-built lever in his car and sped off. Bakugo took this as a challenge and did the same, pulling out behind him.

The nitro kicked in, a boost of raw power gliding through Midoriya's Lamborghini. He felt the car surge forward, pulling away from Bakugo's Pagani for a short moment. But it wasn't enough. He needed to get even, to prove himself not just to the legendary people in the crowd, but to you.

He slammed his foot on the brake, taking a sharp turn into a tight corner. This was a risky maneuver, known only to a few seasoned racers who frequented this track. It was a shortcut, a notoriously dangerous shortcut. He gritted his teeth, steering with white-knuckled accuracy, pushing the car to its absolute limit.

"Think you can outrun me, Deku?" Bakugo's voice crackled over the race's communication system, laced with a sickening amusement. "You're just a useless nobody trying to impress a girl with a fancy car."

Midoriya ignored the taunt, focusing on the road ahead. His green eyes narrowed in concentration as he navigated the narrow passage, the concrete walls a blur on either side. Bakugo wasn't wrong. The car was a gift from his mother, a way to prove himself worthy, not just to you, but to everyone who doubted him. And a part of him hoped, a foolish part, that maybe, just maybe, winning this race, getting noticed by the heroes, would get your attention.

Suddenly, a flash of orange emerged from the tunnel and bright headlights blinded Midoriya's sight momentarily, causing him to slow down.

Bakugo, with a daredevil's audacity, had followed him through the treacherous shortcut. The space was barely wide enough for one car, let alone two.

"Where the hell d'ya think you're going, Deku?" Bakugo roared, his voice distorted by all of the wind rushing past them.

Midoriya slammed on the brakes again, the tires screeching in protest as he tried to create space. But Bakugo, fueled by his own competitive fire, nudged his car closer, forcing Midoriya towards the wall.

"Don't play dirty, Kacchan!" Midoriya screamed back, his voice tight with anger. "This is about proving myself!"

Bakugo laughed, a harsh, grating sound. "Proving yourself? You're a fuckin' joke, Deku. Always have been, always will be. Y/n knows who the real winner is, and it ain't you."

The taunt, the obvious and continuous disregard for his feelings, snapped something inside Midoriya. A force of raw power, possessed by anger and a desperate need to prove everyone, especially Bakugo wrong, coursed through him.

Ignoring the warning lights flashing on his dashboard, Midoriya slammed the gas pedal to the floor. The car, overloaded with power, lurched forward, a blur of green against the night.

Bakugo, caught off guard by the sudden burst of speed, swerved to avoid collision with an upcoming wall. He clipped the side of a stray tire left behind by another racer, sending his own car spinning out of control.

"Fuck, Bakugo! Get yourself in control!" you screamed as you watched the swerving car from the live on your phone. Midoriya's car was long gone and when you looked up, there it was, lunging at an impossible speed towards the finish line.

Hesitantly, you waved the flag, signalling others that Midoriya Izuku, had indeed won the race.

Bakugo's car pulled up shortly after and you, Kirishima, Kaminari, Sero, Mina and Jirou rushed towards the smoking piece of metal.

"Bakubro! You good?" Kirishima called out, ripping the smashed door open with pure strength and hauled the unconscious blonde out.

You dropped to your knees. '"No, no, no, no... Bakugo..." you placed his head on your lap, running your fingers through his hair as the rest of the group worked on cleaning up whatever nasty wound he had.

Your fingers brushed against his forehead and face, rubbing off whatever soot was on it. A groan pulled you out from your worries. "Bakugo!" you gasped in relief. "You're alive!"

The blonde opened his eyes, adjusting it to the lighting and was met with an orange blur above him.

"Course I am, shortcakes, why wouldn't I be?" he asked and he slowly rose, leaning on your body for support while everyone told him to take it easy.

You looked up at the huge crowd that was formed around Midoriya. Of course that asshole doesn't care. You continued rubbing soothing shapes into Bakugo's rough palm as tears welled up in your eyes.

"Don't do that again, Kugo. You scared me." you muttered to him, surprising him with the nickname. He chuckled, his body causing yours to vibrate.

Suddenly, Midoriya walked up to you, having brushed off the crowd who now watched from a distance.

"Y/n, listen-" he began but was cut short by your annoyed voice. "Stop. Don't say anything, Deku." you seethed, as the people around you began to whisper among themselves.

"Look at what you did to him! Look at what you did... to me." you looked up at him with clumps of tears in your eyes, rolling down your face and smearing your mascara, and a pang went through his heart. "You almost killed him." you continued, shaking your head.

"Y/n, I didn-" he tried again but flinched when you screamed, "Shut up!"

Shame burned in his gut, hotter than the engine of his car. He hadn't meant to cause this, hadn't meant to frighten you. He just wanted you to be impressed. You weren't.

With all of this commotion, people around you were silent. You grumbled, asking Kirishima for help with Bakugo, who was promising to take you out when he could function properly. The redhead happily complied, sending a glare to Miforiya as he lifted Bakugo onto his back and walked away. Mina tossed you one of Bakugo's hoodies and pulled your hand away when you hauled the cinnamon smelling article over your head. It landed at your thigh but it was so comfortable, giving you warmth against the coldness of the night.

Midoriya stood there, alone as the people around him continued to pester him even more.

He might have won the race, but Bakugo had won your heart and there was nothing he could do about it.

A few hours later, when he went back to his apartment and settled in bed, hoping to wake up the next day and say that it was all a bad dream, his phone blew up like crazy, messages and tags from every social media app.

He typed in his password groggily and clicked on Instagram, where some of his fans had tagged him under a couple pictures. His eyes widened when he clicked on the first one.

"Like, can I ride with you? @.Katsuki.Bakugo"

It was the picture that you had taken just before the race, your shiny lips forming into a pout as you raised the phone high enough to capture the entire background.

Swiping to the other picture, it was you, sitting next to Bakugo on a hospital bed. The carmine-eyed male sending the camera two middle fingers as you held up a peace sign. His stomach was naseous. How could you like someone like him? I mean out of all people?

"Or, let me ride on you👀 @.Katsuki.Bakugo"

Disdainfully, he swiped on the last picture, and it was one of you and Bakugo's hands intertwined. He read the last caption with anger and jealousy.

"My number one. @.Katsuki.Bakugo"

Taglist!

@effy-2000, @zmbiedoll, @lovra974, @burntlvr, @anjodedesgostoeerrossgosto

395 notes · View notes

wh0reforcoriolanussnow · 11 months ago

Note

Could u do a tennis girl!reader x tom and she’s rlly good and playing at Wimbledon where tom comes and watches like the supportive boyfriend he is. Reader gets injured or something and the medics come on court and tend to her and the camera focuses on tom who is very worried. Maybe tom even gets to go on court and holds readers hand to comfort her and this makes fans go crazy. Love ur writing btw 🫶

When in Wimbledon || Tom Blyth x gf!reader

A/n: I LOVE WATCHING TENNIS!!! I actually went to Wimbledon this year and watched Emma Raducanu play so I made her the fc for this!!

Warnings: reader gets injured, idk what else

Wc: 808

Tom Blyth masterlist

divider by @pommecita

You feel a pair of strong hands wrap around your waist as a smile makes it to your lips, his familiar scent hitting your nose as you turn around. “I’m so happy you’re here,” You whisper in his neck, your hands wrapped snugly around him as he rubs your back.

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world, darling,” He grins, kissing your head before you go back to stretching with your coach. Tom watches as you stretch your limbs, preparing yourself for the match that was going to begin in 30 minutes.

You kiss your boyfriend goodbye, parting ways with him as it was your time to step out into court—Tom making his way to your player box where he would be seated beside your coach.

You step onto the pristine grass court at Wimbledon, the crowd buzzing with anticipation as you, a skilled tennis player, prepare for a crucial match. The familiar scent of freshly cut grass and the echo of applause surround you.

Tom’s eyes were fixated on you the whole time, his applaud more louder and enthusiastic than everyone else’s. The match unfolds, and you dominate the court with your powerful serves and agile movements. The spectators erupt into cheers with every successful point you score.

Tom can’t help but smile, his eyes filled with pride as he watches you play. The atmosphere is electric, and you can feel the energy of the crowd propelling you forward.

As the match progresses, you’re in top form, moving gracefully and hitting the ball with precision. Tom’s enthusiastic cheers blend with the crowd’s roars. And in a split second—in a misstep—your ankle gives out on you, tripping over and landing on your wrist, the anguish shooting through your body, a light scream leaving your lips.

The crowd falls into a hushed silence as you crumple to the ground, clutching your injuries, your breathing deep and harboured. The medics rush onto the court, their urgency reflected in the worried expressions of the spectators.

Tom’s face tightens with concern as he leans forward in his seat, his eyes never leaving you. “Fuck,” Joseph, your coach whispers to himself, his hands rubbing his forehead. The camera captures the worry etched on Tom’s face, and the entire audience holds its breath, collectively hoping for your well-being.

The medics examine you, carefully tending to your injured wrist and ankle as they move you to your seat. The pain was unbearable, and you fight back tears, knowing that this might mark the end of your season.

Tom watches with a pained expression, unable to hide his concern. Your coach stands from his seat, your seat was close enough to the players box that you could hear Joseph’s words of encouragement, but it’s Tom who steals the spotlight with his genuine worry and love for you.

Your entire body was shaking as one hand covers your face, tears brimming your eyes. You wanted Tom. You needed him by your side. You knew he would calm you down straight away. “Tom. I want my boyfriend here,” You hold one of the medics arm as he looks at you before nodding, talking into his radio.

In a heartwarming moment, the officials allow Tom to come onto the court. He rushes to your side, his face a mix of anxiety and determination. A sigh of relief escapes your lips as he gently takes your hand, “It’s okay, I’m here sweetheart, you’re going to be okay,” he offers words of comfort that only you can hear. His touch and soothing words calm your racing heart as you struggle to come to terms with the potential impact on your season.

The crowd watches in awe as Tom’s support becomes a beacon of reassurance amid the uncertainty. His caring gesture elicits a collective “aww” from the fans, who can’t help but admire the bond you share. Social media lights up with admiration for Tom’s devotion to you.

As the medics continue their evaluation, the reality sinks in—this might be a significant setback. Your eyes meet Tom’s, and he offers a gentle smile, silently promising to be there through thick and thin. The disappointment is palpable, but the gratitude for Tom’s unwavering support tempers the pain.

The medics advise you to withdraw from the match and seek further medical attention. Tom helps you stand, supporting your weight as you limp off the court. The crowd, initially filled with the thrill of competition, now applauds the display of resilience and love.

You give them a weak smile and wave as Tom remains by your side. When you step into your locker room, Tom assists you with a supportive arm around your shoulders. The pain is intense, but his presence provides a comforting distraction.

Your coach walks in as he engulfs you in a hug. “You’ll be okay, y/n. It’s a setback for sure, but you’ll be okay,” he comfortingly says to you as he hands you a water bottle to which your gratefully take.

You were taken to hospital, Tom still by your side as he held your hand. “You’ll be off for a few months, Y/n,” The doctor gives you a sympathetic smile as you nod your head, tears already blurring your sight.

The second the doctor left leaving you and Tom alone. You broke down in tears. He gave you a hug, whispering reassuring things in your ear. As you sobbed. Your season had been going so incredibly well until now. But you were grateful that Tom had been by your side during the entirety of it.

Y/n_Y/l/n

Liked by tomblyth, wimbledon, rachelzegler, josephmccarty and 8,307,253 others

before wimbledon vs. after wimbledon 🥲 it pains me the I have to miss out on the other half of this tennis season and I tried to downplay the issue so I thank all my fans who continued to support me during this difficult time. I’d like to thank all my close friends and family for being by my side during all of this. I love each and every single one of you 💗

view all comments

tomblyth: you’re so strong ml ❤️

↘️ y/n_y/l/n: I love you.

josephmmcarty: you’ll come back stronger than ever 💪

user92: I was there watching the match live and when I saw tom jumping the gate and rush to her, my heart melted 😭

user10: hope you heal quickly y/n!!!

user56: her and tom are literally so wholesome 🥹 when he was holding her hand when she was in pain, i swear i died of of how wholesome the moment was

user01: such a shame, she was doing so well this season!!! Get better y/n :)

809 notes · View notes

hiitsm · 7 months ago

Text

Sharing the Weight of Fears

Part 1.

You and Alexia navigate a tender moment when you reveal a worrying change in your health.

Angst, Fluff & Comfort.

You absentmindedly traced the seams of your Barcelona Femení jersey as you sat in the doctor's waiting room, heart pounding with a mixture of anxiety and embarrassment. It had been weeks since you first noticed the subtle change in your left breast-a small lump that seemed to grow more prominent with each passing day. At first, you brushed it off as nothing, convincing yourself that it was just a minor fluctuation, nothing to worry about. But as time went on, so did the nagging worry at the back of your mind.

You glanced around the room, trying to distract yourself from the apprehension gnawing at your insides. The sterile scent of antiseptic and the soft murmur of hushed conversations did little to ease your nerves. You couldn't shake the feeling of unease, the fear of the unknown looming over you like a dark cloud.

After a thorough examination, the doctor offered a gentle smile and a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "It's always best to be cautious," she said, her voice soothing and calm. I need you to keep an eye on things, check for any changes every day. And if anything seems off, don't hesitate to come back."

You nodded, trying to swallow past the lump you managed to choke out, grateful for the doctor's patience and understanding.

As you stepped out of the doctor's office, the midday sun greeted you with its warm embrace, but the unease in your chest refused to dissipate. You pulled out your phone and sent a quick text to Alexia, wishing her luck in the upcoming match. It was a small gesture, but it felt like the least you could do to show your support, even if you couldn't shake the lingering worry from your mind.

Making your way to Camp Nou, you tried to focus on the excitement of the match ahead, pushing aside the nagging doubts that threatened to cloud your thoughts. The vibrant energy of the stadium buzzed around you as fans filled the stands, their cheers and chants echoing in the air.

Spotting Eli and Alba among the crowd, you made your way over to them, plastering on a smile to hide the lingering unease. Eli's keen eyes immediately noticed something amiss, and she furrowed her brow in concern. "Are you feeling alright, dear?" she asked, her voice filled with maternal worry.

You shook your head, dismissing her concern with a wave of your hand. "I'm fine, just a bit tired," you replied, forcing a smile to your lips. "Didn't have time to put on makeup today, that's alI"

Eli's gaze softened with understanding, though hint of concern lingered in her eyes. "Well, make sure you take care of yourself, okay?" she said, her tone gentle yet firm. "We don't need you passing out on us before the match even starts."

You chuckled weakly, grateful for her concern but wishing desperately to erase the worry lines from her face. "Don't worry, I'll be fine," you reassured her, though the words felt hollow on your tongue. Deep down, the unease still gnawed at you, a silent reminder of the uncertainty that lurked beneath the surface.

The match was a blur of cheers and adrenaline-fueled excitement as you cheered on Barcelona Femení from the stands. The tension mounted with each passing minute until, finally, the moment arrived-Alexia's goal, a burst of triumph that echoed through the stadium as the team secured their victory. You joined in the chorus of cheers and applause, heart swelling with pride for your girlfriend's achievement. After the match, as Alexia made her way over to where you and her family were waiting, Eli's keen eyes immediately honed in on you once again. "Alexia, mija, keep an eye on Y/N,' she said, her tone laced with concern. "They look a bit pale."

You felt a flush of embarrassment creep up your cheeks at Eli's words, grateful for the dim lighting of the stadium to conceal your reaction. Alexia's brow furrowed in concern as she turned her attention to you, her eyes searching yours for any sign of distress.

As you all made your way out of the stadium and towards the car, Alexia's concern for you was palpable. Her worry only intensified as she glanced over at you, her brow furrowed with genuine concern. "Are you feeling alright, mi amor?" she asked softly, her voice filled with a mix of worry and tend erness. "Maybe you should rest when we get home. I don't want you to get sick."

You reached out to gently squeeze her hand, offering her a reassuring smile despite the lingering unease in your chest. "I'm feeling fine, Ale," you assured her, your voice calm and steady. "Just a bit tired from all the excitement, that's all. And promise, take it easy once we get home."

As you arrived home, Alexia's protective instincts kicked into high gear. She ushered you gently inside, her arms wrapped around you in a comforting embrace. "Let's get you settled on the couch," she suggested, her voice soft and soothing. "You can relax while I make us something to eat."

You nodded gratefully, allowing her to guide you to the cozy haven of the living room. Nestled against the cushions, you watched as Alexia moved about the kitchen with practiced ease, the rhythmic clatter of pots and pans a comforting melody in the background.

As you settled into the cozy haven of the living room, a sense of unease settled over you like a heavy fog. Despite your best efforts to push aside your worries, a nagging feeling gnawed at the edges of your mind. Your breasts felt oddly itchy, a discomfort that seemed to intensify with each passing moment.

You tried to dismiss it as nothing more than your imagination running wild, but the memory of your visit to the doctor earlier that morning lingered in the recesses of your mind, casting a shadow of doubt over your thoughts.

Alexia noticed your unease, her keen eyes picking up on the subtle shift in your demeanor. With a gentle touch, she brushed a stray lock of hair from your forehead, her voice soft with concern. "Qué pasa, mi amor?" she asked, her brow furrowing with worry. "Is something bothering you?"

You hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to articulate the swirling chaos of emotions churning within you. But as you met her gaze, the warmth of her love and understanding enveloped you like a comforting embrace. "It's nothing, Ale," you reassured her, forcing a smile despite the turmoil roiling within. "Just a bit tired, that's all."

She studied you for a moment longer, her gaze filled with a mixture of worry and understanding. With a nod, she leaned in to press a gentle kiss to your forehead, her touch a silent promise of unwavering support.

Later, as you sat together on the couch, the remnants of dinner forgotten as you basked in the warmth of each other's company, Alexia's playful demeanor shifted as she sat behind you. Her hands teased their way up your torso, fingers dancing over the fabric of your Barcelona jersey. "Me encanta verte con mi camiseta del Barcelona, pero también me encanta ver y sentir tus pechos,' she murmured in your ear, her words sending a shiver down your spine.

You couldn't help but smile at her words, the warmth of her affection washing over you like a gentle wave. Hearing her speak in Spanish always had a way of soothing your soul, reminding you of the depth of your connection. Lost in the comfort of her voice, you momentarily forgot about the worry gnawing at your mind. Before you knew it, Alexia's hands had moved to lift your shirt, her touch tender and gentle as she brushed against something unexpected.

She paused, her brow furrowing in confusion as she examined the red patches marring the surface of your left breast. "¿Qué es esto?" she asked softly, her voice tinged with concern as she traced the outline of the irritated skin.

Your heart sank as you met her gaze, the weight of your worries crashing down around you. How could you explain the inexplicable to her, when you barely understood it yourself? But as you looked into her eyes, the love and trust shining in their depths, you knew that you had to confide in her, no matter how difficult it may be.

As Alexia's concerned gaze bore into yours, you took a deep breath, steeling yourself for the difficult conversation ahead. "It's... it's something I noticed a while ago," you began, your voice trembling slightly despite your efforts to remain composed. "I went to the doctor about it, but.. but didn't want to worry you."

Her grip tightened on your hand, a silent gesture of encouragement and support. "What did the doctor say?" she asked softly, her voice filled with concern. You swallowed hard, the lump in your throat making it difficult to find the words. "She.. she said it's probably nothing" you admitted, the weight of your worries lifting slightly as you spoke the words aloud for the first time. "But... but she wants me to keep an eye on it, just in case."

Alexia's brow furrowed with worry as she listened to your explanation, her fingers tracing soothing circles on the back of your hand. "Why didn't you tell me, mi amor?" she asked softly, her voice tinged with hurt. You looked down, feeling the weight of guilt settle in the pit of your stomach. "I didn't want to worry you," you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper. "And I thought... I thought maybe it was nothing, you know? But now..."

Alexia's heart ached as she watched the turmoil playing out across your face, her own emotions mirroring yours. "It's okay to feel that way, mi amor," she said softly, her voice filled with tenderness. "But next time, I want to know. I want to be there for you, to share the weight of your fears and insecurities. You don't have to face them alone."

With a gentle squeeze of your hand, she rose from the couch, her movements fluid and purposeful as she disappeared into the bathroom. Moments later, she returned with a small jar of soothing cream, the faint scent of lavender filling the air as she applied it to the irritated patches on your skin. "There,'' she said softly, her touch gentle and comforting as she smoothed the cream over your skin. "That should help with the itchiness."

You felt a rush of gratitude swell within you at her tender care, the weight of your worries easing slightly under the warmth of her touch. "Thank you, my Ale'' you whispered, your voice choked with emotion.

She smiled, her eyes shining with love and reassurance as she leaned in to press a soft kiss to your forehead. I will help you with your daily checkups," she murmured, her voice filled with determination. "And maybe we can see the doctor again soon, just to be safe."

Her protective instincts kicked into high gear, her unwavering devotion filling you with a sense of warmth and security. Unable to contain the swell of emotion within you, you reached out to pull her close, your lips meeting hers in a passionate embrace. I love you, Alexia," you whispered against her lips, the words a silent promise of love and devotion. And in that moment, surrounded by the warmth of her embrace, you knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you would face them together, hand in hand.

My thoughts during and after writing this piece:

Sometimes, a health scare can catch us off guard, leaving us feeling vulnerable and, surprisingly, embarrassed. It's moments like these where the support of someone close can truly shine through. Whether it's a partner, a family member, or a friend, having someone there to share the burden can make all the difference. They remind us that we're not alone, no matter how daunting the situation may seem.

#alexia putellas x reader #woso #woso community #woso fanfics #alexia putellas fanfic #woso imagine #woso x reader #woso one shot

407 notes · View notes

yandere-romanticaa · 3 days ago

Text

I really enjoy the idea of a man like Ayato going into a tea house for some fine entertainment. The entire event is primarily disguised as a business dinner, but the Yashiro Commissioner knows better. He has been rubbing shoulders with this type crowd ever since he was a tiny lad. Besides, the eagerness which his dignitaries display is far too obvious to hide. They cover their grins behind their long sleeves, eyes gleaming with excitement and thrill at the thought of tonight's prospects.

Truthfully, Ayato was just as much of a savage beast as the men around him.

The key difference was that he was better in concealing his more perverse nature.

With a serene smile Ayato enjoyed the show, his eyes never leaving your figure, not even once. It was obvious that you were new amongst the girls, their saccharine grins far too picture perfect to be natural. You swished and swayed your body to the soft drums, making extra sure to highlight the best parts of your body as the table filled with customers in front of you cheered each of you all on, happily tossing shiny Mora in the air.

It was so hard to focus under Ayato's gaze. You knew who he was, everyone knew who he was. After the dance the ladies from the establishment cornered you, asking you questions on what the nature of your relationship was with the handsome commissioner. They advised you to stay docile and sweet in his presence, that you should never make a fuss and by doing so, not only will you never go hungry ever again, all sorts of doors could open up as well.

As expected, Ayato had ended up summoning you for a private show.

It was a very hush hush affair, with him being the only person in the room. He greeted you with tea, cakes and all sorts of tiny gifts which he had prepared before hand. By the end of the evening, you were no better than honey in his hands, hanging onto his every single word and whim, catering to his every desire he could come up with, no matter how small or silly it may be.

Ayato found himself enjoying how free you were, how open you were with your heart and desires. It was refreshing, like sweet spring air after a dark storm and he soaked it up like a sponge. The entire nature of this relationship was also beyond thrilling as it allowed him to unwind after a long and hard day of work.

However, he knew better than anyone that most things in life don't last forever. He could continue to play coy only for so long and since Ayato was not in the mood for games, he decided the best course of action to take was to just buy you out. He had the money and you would surely enjoy the comfort he would provide for you.

It was an ideal situation, truly.

He sat you down and shared his plans, eager to see a happy grin on your face as you chant Thank you, Master Ayato! over and over, as you tripped on your feet in a rush to embrace him.

Ayato typically likes surprises. They keep things fun and interesting, but the one you told him was anything but.

With confidence, you told him that you had no desire to stop working in this place, shamelessly admitting that you enjoyed making the various clientele satisfied with your services, regardless of how dirty it could be. The freedom, the pleasure, it was too much to give up.

His lips formed into a wicked little grin as his felt his heart beat through his chest. In a way, he admired your attitude. It was dazzling just how bold you had become and how you were so unafraid of him.

After that night, you figured that you would never see the man ever again.

Days went on, customers came and went and there was no sign of your dazzling commissioner. That did not stop the whispers and rumors from spreading like wildfire, particularly from the more devious or jealous women which you worked with. Venom would coat their words as they would eagerly remind you of just how you had cost them one of, if not the best customer in the entire nation.

It was difficult to tell whether or not they were celebrating this fact of it they were legitimately upset with you. However, this storm would soon come to pass, or so you had hoped. You always found it a little odd how Master Ayato had just left you to your own devices, how he hadn't bothered to pull any strings or just flat out threaten you for disobeying him. Most men in his position could afford such a luxury because the fallout would be next to none.

It would cost him nothing to just toss you onto the cold, dark street like a wet dog. He would not even need to break a single sweat to make you fall apart.

But your pride was too strong. It burned deep in your belly, the desire to spread your wings and do as you wished. Mora was the key to solve all of your problems and in due time, more than enough was going to be saved for any possible endeavor of yours. On several different occasions you had confessed to Master Ayato that you had wished to buy better make up, prettier clothes and a better house than you had already owned. Not to mention your unyielding wish to explore the world, to see step foot into each nation and see their glory with your own two eyes. You wished to sip on fine Mondstatd wine, to see the bright lanterns in Liyue, to watch the night sky in Snezhnaya.

And he had listened patiently to you, soaking in each word. He would pat you across the head or pinch your cheek and mutter how one day he was sure that all of that would come true.

People always did say that a person ought to be careful for what they wished for. Why?

Because they might just get their wishes granted.

On a chilly autumn morning, shouts rang loudly from outside of your establishment. Confusion was written on everyone's faces as they stared at the main entrance, trying to figure out who was causing the commotion.

Suddenly, the door was kicked down with such brute force that you could not even gasp, the wood simply breaking away from the hinges. Soldiers in armour filled the room, weapons in hand as they shouted about some arrests being made.

It was hard to focus with the commotion around you.

The soldiers were brutes, kicking away and smashing everything in sight. Fine paintings and scrolls were all over the floor like trash, the dashing kimonos and dresses snatched from their stations by feebleminded men, none of which cared for your safety and security.

Cries filled the air the head of the establishment was dragged by two soldiers, their arms wrapped tightly around the woman as she begged and pleaded for mercy, forgiveness and everything in-between. The pristine makeup she had so tirelessly worked on was but a fleeting memory, leaving only large traces of inky black mascara falling down her pale cheeks and messy blood red lipstick strewn across her tiny lips.

It felt like a nightmare come to life.

Like a vicious snake, a handsome man in white garbs had slithered inside the room, his steps so quiet that not even the wind could sense him coming. He clapped a few times, the pristine glove on his hands shining underneath the morning sun as the Yashiro Commissioner stared down each person in the room, his sea blue eyes laced with mock pity.

His voice filled the air to a suffocating degree, so much so that it made you choke on your own breath. There he was, Kamisato Ayato in the flesh, standing proud and strong, like an untouchable arrow seeking its target. He was so charming, so convincing that if you hadn't known better, you too would have bought into his lies.

How could someone so handsome be so adept at spewing such filth? Even as he accused your boss of various crimes, his voice was nothing less than kind and concerned.

He felt less like a man and more like a god. A twisted blend of mercy and cruelty who had been brought down from the heavens to cast judgment on mere mortals such as yourself.

In a flash, his eyes locked in on yours and it was all too clear on what he was aiming for. His gaze was deceitfully sweet but underneath that handsome gaze was an ever growing desire to seek, trap and possibly even maim.

Ayato always thought of himself as at least somewhat of a civil man but not even he was immune to the most basic of human desires. Each man who walked the earth was a beast, it just took some longer to wake up and realize that truth.

Kamisato Ayato had bared his fangs and shot you a grin, not even shying away from his true motives. He never lied when he said that he thought that your dreams were going to come true one day.

He merely left out the part that he was going to be the one who would get you there.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere imagines #yandere x you #yanderecore #yandere aesthetic #yancore #genshin impact #kamisato ayato #kamisato ayato x reader #yandere ayato #yandere kamisato ayato #genshin ayato #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin x reader #genshin x reader #genshin x you

263 notes · View notes

delusional-day-dreamer · 4 months ago

Text

Last Friday Night - n.m

‣ nika muhl x reader!

‣ paige version of this fic

‣ wc: 1953; sorry this is so short and lowkey not that good?

‣‣ synopsis: you and nika have kept your relationship on the dl for a while now, but what happens when your inebriated selves slip up on kk’s live? pretend the ncaa's lift on cannabis for athletes happens before the start of the 23-24 season! (so sorry for the inactivity but I just got back from camp and am ready to feed y'all)

‣‣‣ a/n: so i actually thought of this fic idea when i tried a weed pen for the first time (it's legal in ca) and i passed out with half my clothes on, no fan, forgot to brush my teeth and take my makeup off, and accidentally left a small heater on in my room that ran for four hours and turned my room into a furnace before my mom came in and turned it off and woke me up to yell at me 😊!

8:42 am

To say that you and Nika were in trouble by the events of last night was a little bit of an understatement. Both of your phones were blowing up by your respective coaches, teammates, close friends, and all of your social media accounts.

As you scrolled through your tiktok, text messages, instagram tags, and just about everything else on your phone while laying next to Nika's sleeping figure in her bed, it only reaffirmed one thing in your head.

You and Nika majorly fucked up.

12:07 am; where it all went wrong

With your volleyball season and Nika's basketball season being in their respective peaks during this time of year, you had barely gotten a chance to spend time with your girlfriend alone. The two of you were either travelling for away games, at practice, in class, hanging out with your friends or teammates, or busy studying. Needless to say, you missed Nika. A lot.

Which, combined with the weed pen you were hitting periodically, loosened your inhibitions to a whole new level inside of Ted's fairly crowded bar.

It wasn't jam-packed, but there was a decent crowd of older college students for a Friday night in October, especially since Halloween was soon to be approaching in two weeks.

Normally, you and Nika weren’t big on PDA, at most you would hold hands or give small pecks around the team, considering the fact that the two of you kept your relationship very much on the down low, not so much a secret as very private. You never denied any allegations but basically never posted together on your own, unless the two of you ended up in the background of someone else’s pictures.

Social media had a lot of speculation, edits, rumors, etc, surrounding the two of you, as you had no connection to the team as a volleyball player yet still hung out with them regularly. But either way, you and Nika always just minded your own business and kept everything very hush hush. Except for tonight.

Nika was sort of sober, she had done two shots with some of the other girls while you mostly just smoked a few times, not wanting to get super high, but just enough to let the tingly sense of giggly euphoria wash over you.

Yet one thing you failed to consider when choosing weed over alcohol for tonight was the fact that it made you incredibly horny. That, combined with the fact that you and Nika hadn’t spent any time together in the last three weeks, let alone have sex, were the leading factors of tonight.

Which left you and Nika alone, squished together in the corner of the bar top. You were leaning with your back against the wall, standing in between Nika's spread legs from her position facing you atop the stool. Her hands were holding onto your bare thighs, occasionally removing her left to take a small sip of her drink before dutifully returning to your legs.

"I'm just saying Niks, we could definitely sneak out without anyone noticing, everyone's too busy doing their own thing," you attempted to convince your stubborn girlfriend, sweetening the notion by rubbing your hands up and down her jean-clad thighs.

As D1 athletes, it was obvious that the two of you had toned and muscular bodies, but one of Nika's features you found most attractive were her muscular thighs she built from her time in the gym and on the court, especially the way they would wrap around your head while eating her out.

"We'll leave soon bebo don't worry. Besides," Nika leaned into your ear, her warm breath sending shivers down your spine. "I already promised I would make up the last three weeks to you tonight yeah? What's another hour ljubavi?"

You bit your bottom lip as Nika pulled back, thudding your head on the wall behind you as your eyes trailed over the small smirk Nika held, now using her fingers to draw small circles on your thigh.

"Fuck, you're driving me crazy like this Nika," you reached your right hand over to the bar top, desperate to take another hit of your pen to ease the influx of horny thoughts running through your mind.

Before you could bring the vape up to your mouth, Nika grabbed your waist and pulled you into her, and despite her sitting position, you still only had a good two inches over her.

"You're not gonna share bebo?" Her teasing eyes gleamed up at you as she licked her lips in anticipation.

You immediately knew what she meant by that, the two of you doing it all the time whenever you're smoking or vaping together (y'all have seen the watermelon pic of her and let's be frl, they're college students, it's NORMAL).

You smirked at her suggestion, leaning into her before taking a deep inhale of the weed, allowing as much of the smoke to enter your lungs as possible before using your left hand to grab Nika's jaw, pressing your open lips against hers to shotgun the smoke into her mouth.

You didn't even wait to finish exhaling all of the smoke and taking another breath before enveloping Nika's lips into yours hungrily, eagerily gripping her waist with the hand still holding the vape.

You kissed her passionately, deepening the kiss as you slipped your tongue into her mouth, the mixture of the rum and coke she was drinking earlier and the earthy taste of weed making your head spin.

You continued to make out for a few minutes, gently pulling away while tugging her bottom lip with your teeth, gazing down at her closed eyes and blissful expression.

"You finally ready to go home Niks?" You teased, licking your swollen lips at her finally needy expression.

The camera clearly caught your lips against Nika's blowing smoke into her mouth before leaning in to kiss her, and despite the two of you being on screen for less than a minute, it was enough to cause an internet commotion.

KK's eyes scanned over the comments as she sat back down, blocking your frames as she shoved a few fries in her mouth. Her eyes widened at the sudden influx of comments about you and Nika, leaning in to figure out what was going on.

"I, what? There's no way y'all," she whispered to the table of Paige, Ice, Carol, and Jana. Paige leaned in from KK's right side, trying to figure out what had happened.

Covering the camera slightly, KK, and everyone else, turned around to witness you and Nika's little makeout session ending and the flirty whispers exchanged.

"Unfortunately tonight's live is gonna have to end here girly pops, and if you think you saw something, no you didn't!" KK exclaimed as she quickly turned off the live, the table erupting with laughter at the situation. The whole team had placed bets on how long it would take you and Nika to fumble, and half of them had just lost a hundred dollars at your shennagains.

The walk back to Nika's apartment was brief, filled with flirty touches and short pecks to tide the two of you over until you finally entered home, Nika immediately pushing you up against the front door, moving her lips down your neck and around your collarbones with gentle grazes of her teeth and soothing licks.

"Niks please, stop teasing," you breathed out, grasping Nika's hair tightly from her scalp with your hand, pulling her face up to yours to gaze down at her with a pleading expression.

"Aw, my poor bebo," she cooed, mocking your horny desperation for her, but thankfully Nika wasn't that cruel.

You moaned into her mouth as her long fingers bunched your skirt up by your waist, rubbing gentle circles on your clit through your panties.

"Oh my god Nika, right there baby, fuck," your leg wrapped around her waist tightly as you clenched around her fingers, bucking your hips up to match her movements. Your hands making their way around her neck and back, pressing her body firmly up against yours.

Normally you wouldn't be so close to finishing within a few minutes, but the weed from earlier created a delirious fog that clouded your brain and with the way Nika's fingers were both pressing into your g-spot and rubbing your clit, your orgasm was quickly approaching.

"Fuck I'm so close Niks, please just need a little more," you whimpered into her ear, moving your lips down to nip at the sweet spot under her ear.

"Doing so good for me bebo, always such a good girl. You gonna be my good girl and come for me? Just let go for me ljubavi."

Her words were the final thing to push you over the edge, the tight coil in your stomach snapping as you immediately arched your back into Nika, an endless string of moans and curses falling from your mouth as you let your orgasm wash over you fully.

"God Nika, I don't think I can even feel my legs right now," you giggled in her embrace as she slowly eased her fingers out of you, sucking the remnants of your orgasm off them before wrapping them around your waist, laying you over her as she laid onto her back.

"Hm, fucked you that good huh?" She smirked, using her clean(ish) hand to brush the slightly sweaty strands of hair that had fallen in front of your flushed face.

"I don't know why you're getting so cocky Mühl, haven't even had my turn with you yet," you teased, running your fingers over her stomach, tugging at the remaining fabric on her body.

"Thought you just said you can't even feel your legs bebo?"

"Good thing I don't need them to fuck you then yeah? Don't you think my fingers and mouth will be enough for you Niks," you retorted, shuffling your body down the mattress so you could finally have your way with Nika.

9:13 am

Instagram

y/n l/n posted a story

338 notes · View notes

idyllicwillowtree · 9 months ago

Text

God Eddie, You're So In Love With Me. (part 2)

Genre: Eddie Munson x Henderson!reader, fem!reader, angst/fluff, hurt/eventual comfort, friends to lovers

Summary: Being in Hellfire, you’ve been exposed to your fair share of bullying. One day, Jason takes it a step too far.

Word count: 1.8k

Warnings: bullying, anaphylaxis, poisoning, no physical descriptions of Y/N so you don’t have to look like Dustin, reader uses she/her, reader has a peanut allergy, swearing, angy Eddie, hospital

Author’s note: Thank you so much for the positive comments on part 1! I was feeling insecure about this fic so that was very nice y'all are so sweet <3

Enjoy!

Main Masterlist

Part 1

Eddie looked to you, hoping to see you looking up at him and smiling that way you do whenever he uses his renaissance voice. Instead he met your panicked eyes.

“Hey Henderson,” Jason called from across the cafeteria. “What happens now? Should we call an ambulance?” Andy shoved at his shoulder playfully and chortled alongside Jason.

Panic gripped you as you connected the dots.

“Yeah,” you wheezed, “call an ambulance.”

All the Hellfire members whipped their heads toward you, witnessing an angry rash spreading across your skin and your breathing becoming audible as you tried to suck in as much oxygen as possible.

Eddie’s heart clenched painfully as he looked down at you, remembering the severity of your allergy after Dustin explained it to him one time. Still, Eddie was taken aback by the speed at which your symptoms were progressing.

You reached a hand out to Eddie as the choked coughs took over. He ignored your hand in favor of catching your body before it hit the ground. With trembling limbs he carefully lowered you to the grimy tile of the cafeteria floor.

“Fuck,” Eddie cursed, “Dustin! What do we do?!”

Dustin had froze. Panic set in as he watched his older sister struggle more and more to take in a full breath. A small crowd began to gather and the excited chatter of the cafeteria simmered into hushed whispers and gasps. Everyone was watching, and not in the way Eddie was used to.

“Henderson!” Eddie snapped.

At that, Dustin went to work. “Mike, go call 911! Lucus, see if the nurse has an epipen. GO!” The sheep dispersed. Dustin picked up your bag with trembling hands and began digging through your books and school supplies, searching for the epinephrine injector he swears you kept in there.

Eddie turned his attention back to you, trusting that Dustin had the rest handled. At the look of panic in your blotchy and swollen face he almost froze too. A chilling dread spread through his veins as you began clawing at your throat, doing everything you could to open your airways.

“Hey, hey, hey, look at me princess. You’re gonna be alright, gonna be just fine, you hear me? D-Dustin will getchu your meds and you’ll be good to go,” Eddie rambled, trying to convince himself just as much. He gently cradled your warm face and stroked your hair to try and soothe you.

With every second passing you became closer and closer to death. Eddie looked up in desperation. His red-headed neighbor (Max, he thinks her name is) snatched the backpack out of a distraught Dustin’s hands and turned it upside down, emptying its contents. Robin was there too and put a comforting arm around your brother while Max took over the search for the injector. Eddie was vaguely aware of a teacher trying to pry him off of you but he’d risk getting expelled for shoving a teacher if it meant staying by your side.

“Got it!” Max exclaimed, holding the orange and clear tube triumphantly. She slid to her knees on your otherside, not hesitating to jam the needle into your leg and holding it there.

Eddie flinched at the force it took to inject you. You took your first full breath, allowing him to take one as well. Your eyes were drooping slightly as the medicine was introduced into your system.

“Hey, there she is,” Eddie said gently.

Your tired eyes met his and he could’ve sworn the corners of your lips twitched upwards.

The paramedics arrived and Eddie hesitantly let you go so they could treat you. It was a blur of navy blue and red as they hooked you up to numerous tubes and slid an oxygen mask over your head.

You became slightly more alert at the sight of strangers surrounding you as the stretcher clicked into place, raising you a couple feet off the ground. You moved your head tiredly trying to catch sight of anyone you knew. Anyone to comfort you.

“Dustin, go with her,” Eddie told the curly haired boy. He looked up at him with wet eyes that clenched at Eddie’s heart. “She needs you, go on.”

Eddie watched the determination emerge on the freshman’s face as he walked through the paramedics declaring that he was your brother, allowing him to be by your side.

Swallowing thickly past the dryness in his mouth, Eddie watched you get rolled out on the stretcher.

He turned numbly to see that Lucas and Mike had returned and started digging through your lunch, in an attempt to find out what it was that could’ve caused your reaction. As the two predictably began to bicker, Eddie grabbed the cup of applesauce and slowly brought the spoon out. To his horror, he scooped out a few small round nuts mixed with the smooth texture of the applesauce.

His darkened eyes snapped up, immediately finding Jason. He at least had the decency to look scared, his skin white as a sheet. True terror shining through as he came to realize the severity of what he did. He shook his head slightly, pleading with Eddie. For what, he wasn’t sure. But he could give a shit.

The grip on the applesauce tightened, causing it to tremble, before he launched it in Jason's general direction. A fire of rage lit up Eddie's entire being, consuming any reason or restraint within him.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?! You could’ve killed her!!” Eddie roared, the words ripping from his throat like a thunderclap. Every fiber in his being screamed for justice, determined to ensure that no harm would ever come to you again.

“I-I-I didn’t think…I didn’t mean to-” Jason blubbered.

“Not good enough!” Eddie snapped. He charged forward, driven by the need to avenge your pain. Just when he was closing the distance between them a thick arm wrapped around his upper body. “LET ME GO!”

Eddie struggled against the firm grip that held him back from doing to Jason what he should've done a long time ago. If Eddie was strong enough, he could've saved you, stopped all of this bullying in its tracks before Jason had ever even looked in your direction. His strength never came from muscles or brute force, but from his anger—the primal need to protect those he loved. He was so consumed by his rage that a red haze blurred his vision. Or were those his tears?

“Eddie, man, don’t do this,” Doug said, doing his best to calm his friend.

“Please,” Eddie pleaded, losing some of his fight. ��Just let me go.”

“Dude, if you get into a fight you won’t be able to see Y/N in the hospital,” the bassist whispered in Eddie’s ear. He looked over and saw Principle Coleman closing in on them, there wasn’t much time left. “We can handle it, just go while you can.”

A wave of overwhelming frustration washed over Eddie as the struggle against Doug’s hold diminished. Tears welled up in his eyes as his chest released his rage and tightened back up with helplessness and despair.

He didn’t let it consume him though, taking off in the opposite direction of the principle, his sheep following close behind.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When the van ripped into the hospital parking lot, Eddie finally took notice of how many stowaways he had. Lucas, Mike, Max, Robin, and even Nancy all burst through the double doors at the back of his skunky smelling van and made their way to the emergency room entrance.

Eddie was the first one through the doors, eyes scanning the waiting area for his curly haired friend. What he wasn’t expecting to see was the one and only King Steve sitting with the boy.

Steve noticed them first, taking the lead on letting them know what’s going on. He explained that you’d be fine but the doctors are running some tests and getting you hooked up to the necessary machines. It’ll be a little longer before Eddie gets to see you with his own eyes.

Eddie turned on his heel and walked through the doors he just came through as Steve explained that your mom was called but was on a trip with her girlfriends and won’t be able to make it back until tomorrow.

The disinfected smell of the hospital only offered to heighten Eddie’s desire for a cigarette. He finds solace in the only coping mechanism he has under his belt, even if he knew it was bad for him in the long run. The stress of the day weighed heavily on him as he leaned on the brick wall of the hospital outside. The familiar routine of lighting up offered a good distraction, the only way to momentarily ease his anxiety.

That was until your brother found him. He silently stood next to him, not feeling the need to fill the silence with anything but the gentle breeze and the birds chirping in the distance. But it made Eddie feel uneasy.

“I’d offer you a smoke, but I don’t want to corrupt you more than I already have,” Eddie said with a sad laugh.

Ignoring Eddie’s comment, Dustin asked, “you remember that one time when Hellfire came over to my house for a session? When the theater kids needed the drama room at school?”

Eddie nodded his head slowly, releasing the smoke from his lungs as he did so.

“I was still in middle school so I had only heard about you from Y/N. She had this weird way of speaking about you. It was in a way I had never heard her speak about anyone before.”

Eddie’s heart punched against his ribs painfully, his insecurities taking over.

“She was nice enough to let me watch your campaign so I could get ideas for the campaign I was doing with Mike and Lucas, and our other friend Will. I think she regretted it because of the Reese's Pieces incident.”

Eddie couldn’t help but start chuckling embarrassingly at the memory. “God, that was so stupid,” he smacked his forehead in an attempt to stop his mind from reliving one of the most embarrassing moments of his life.

The Hellfire members flooded into your home, bringing chips, candy, and drinks to share. Your first time hosting the club was going great, until Dustin noticed the bag of Reese’s Pieces in Eddie’s hand.

“My sister is too nice to say anything but-” Dustin started.

“Stop, Dustin-”

“-we can’t have those in the house.”

Eddie’s eyebrows pinched beneath his bangs, “what? Why not?”

“She’s allergic to peanuts.”

Before you could roll your eyes at your little brother and reassure him it was fine, Eddie turned and chucked the bag out your kitchen’s open window leaving you standing there in shock and Eddie horrified by his own impulse.

“I think that’s when she fell in love with you.”

Eddie’s head whipped over to Dustin. The kid had the audacity to look smug after completely shattering his world view. His mind spun with the revelation.

Love, a word so potent, was now intertwined with his thoughts of your relationship. Eddie knew he liked you, a lot, but his brain never brought him to love. He replayed moments from your friendship in his head, searching for the signs, trying to decipher if Dustin was telling the truth. If the sentiment was truly real. A mix of surprise and uncertainty overwhelmed him, but there was also something warm and hopeful there. It was both exhilarating and terrifying.

He needed to see you and hear it from you directly. A million thoughts and memories raced through his mind, but one thing was clear–he needed to be with you, to tell you how he felt.

part 3

tags: @beeblisss @fishwithtitz @leah-loves-lilies

486 notes · View notes

onddau · 3 months ago

Text

"You're really going to put up that picture of all things?" Draco drawled.

Hermione turned to him, her eyes sparkling. "We look incredible! Plus, that day was a pivotal moment in our relationship, you know."

Draco's expression softened. "Ah yes, the infamous Ministry Christmas party. How could anyone forget your bushy hair getting caught in my expensive cufflinks?"

"Oh, hush!" Hermione playfully swatted his arm. "If I recall correctly, you were the one who couldn't keep your eyes off me all evening."

"Can you blame me? You were a vision in that dress. Although, I must say, the photographer's timing was impeccable," Draco chuckled, gesturing to the photo.

FLASHBACK

The Ministry of Magic's atrium was decked out in festive glory, twinkling fairy lights competing with the golden gleam of tinsel. The annual Christmas party was in full swing, with wizards and witches from every department mingling, drinks in hand.

Amidst the revelry, a photographer weaved through the crowd, capturing candid moments. His eyes lit up as he spotted a striking couple: a platinum-blond man lounging in an armchair, with a brunette perched elegantly on the armrest.

As he approached, he caught snippets of their conversation.

"Oh, and there's one more thing we have to do before we go back to my loft," Hermione was saying, her fingers playing with the collar of Draco's robes.

Draco groaned dramatically. "Another thing? Granger, I just want you alone. I'd even wager for that Kneazle abomination of yours to join us."

"Mr. Malfoy, Ms. Granger! May I please get a photo of you two?" the photographer called out.

They turned, startled. Hermione's hand flew up, almost covering her mouth in surprise, while Draco's expression morphed into his trademark scowl. The flash went off.

Recovering, Hermione continued, "We have to stop by Molly's. She has our gifts and is expecting us to pick them up before the end of Christmas."

"The Weasleys?" Draco looked appalled. "Oh, you've got to be kidding. There is no way in seven hells I'm going to the carrot-top crew's headquarters."

Hermione's eyes narrowed. "Funny that you think you have a say. We are going, and that's that," she said sternly.

"Oh no, Granger. You may be the only person who frightens me enough to bend to your will, but I will not stand for the Weasleyssss," he drawled out, annoyance dripping from every syllable.

Hermione leaned in close, her lips brushing his ear. "Once we've finished unwrapping the presents, we can go back to my loft and you can unwrap me," she whispered in a sing-song voice.

Draco's jaw snapped shut, his eyes widening. "Want to head out now?"

Hermione's laughter rang out, drawing curious glances from nearby partygoers.

#procreate #draco #draco fanart #draco malfoy #draco malfoy art #hp fanart #draco lucius malfoy #harry potter #hermione #hermione fanart

203 notes · View notes

hauntedhowlett-writes · 1 year ago

Text

title: my tears ricochet | part i

pairing: husband's best friend!joel miller x female reader

rating: chapter - t; full work - explicit (18+ MDNI)

word count: 7k

summary: after moving from new york to texas with your fiance, you expect to jump right into wedding planning with his help. when he claims to be too busy, he suggests asking his best friend, joel miller, to help you instead.

you weren't supposed to fall in love with him.

author's note: this story is a three part fic inspired by the song "my tears ricochet" by taylor swift. this first part is reader's POV, part two will be joel's POV, and the third part will be dual POV. if you enjoy, please consider reblogging or commenting!

chapter tags: modern au, infidelity, emotional abuse, the fiance is shitty, no use of y/n, single POV (reader), wedding dress shopping and other wedding planning activities, angst, arguing, alcohol consumption/mention, kissing, no smut. please let me know if i've missed any!

major work tags: modern au, infidelity, explicit sexual content, character death

You stare out at the manicured yard, watching as guests move about the grounds and waiters in black uniforms carry trays of food and drinks through the crowd. Your boyfriend -- wait, no, fiancé -- Alex laughs boisterously with your father, a hand on his back in easy familiarity. You know you should be down there with him given that this is your engagement party, but you were starting to feel overwhelmed by the constant smiling and greeting strangers and showing off your shiny new engagement ring that you needed a break.

The door opens and a man you don't recognize steps into the room, pale blue dress shirt stretched tight across his broad chest and a pair of wrinkled dress pants. He runs a hand through his messy dark curls.

"Sorry, I didn't think anyone would be in here," he says. As he looks you over, his brown eyes go wide with surprise. "Shit, you're the bride!"

You smile at him. "That's me," you reply. You hold a hand out towards him as you give him your name, his rough palm sliding against yours as he grips it firmly.

"I'm Joel Miller," he tells you. You know the name well, being that he's your fiancé's best friend. "Didn't mean to make our first time meetin' so awkward."

"No, no, it's not your fault. I've just been feeling a little overwhelmed with all the," you wave your hand towards the window, "festivities. It's great to finally meet you."

"I don't blame ya. They can get pretty stuffy down there. Congrats, by the way."

"Thank you." He lets go of your hand. "So, why are you hiding?"

He laughs, deep and full bellied. "Alex's mom doesn't like me much. I'm sure she was hopin' that we would stop bein' friends when he went to school on the other side of the country, but I’m like a stubborn tick."

"How could she not like you, Alex told me that the two of you have been best friends since kindergarten!"

"There may have been a few mishaps in high school," he says. "You ever tried eggin' your principal's house?"

"Can't say that I have," you reply.

"Well, it doesn't end well if you get caught." He looks out the window with a smile on his face. "We got arrested. Alex's dad had to bail us out. Probably had to throw some hush money around so that it wouldn't show up on his record when he applied to school."

"He's never told me that!" You say, laughing hard enough around the words that your stomach hurts.

The door opens and this time, Alex himself steps into the room. His serious expression morphs into a smile when he sees you and Joel.

"There you are," he says, crossing the room to kiss your cheek. He greets Joel with a hug, patting his back roughly. "What are you two doing in here?"

"I just needed a minute alone," you tell him.

"And I crashed her minute alone. Told her about the time we got arrested in high school," Joel adds. Alex's jaw tenses, his smile tight as his eyes flick to you, like he's worried about your reaction. "She laughed. It's all good."

"Right. Well, I came to find you because its time for the toast and dinner," Alex says. "Let's get back down to our guests."

A hand at the small of your back urges you towards the door before you can reply.

"Alex, are you listening to me?" You ask. Your fiancé looks up from his phone.

"I'm sorry, baby, I was finishing an e-mail," he says. He sets his phone down on the table, dark screen facing up, and gives you his full attention. "What were you saying?"

"I wanted to schedule the cake tasting. Do you have any free time this week?"

He grimaces. "I don't think I do, sweetheart. Your dad's got my schedule pretty packed."

"I can just ask him to--"

"No," he says sternly. "You know I have to make a good impression with the rest of the firm."

"But--"

"Babe, no. I can't do this week. Why don't you ask my mom? Or Joel?"

While your future mother-in-law is kind enough, you don't have much patience for the way she tries to take control of your wedding planning. Joel, however, might be a good idea. He knows Alex well enough to be a stand in for a decision like cake and icing flavors.

"Could you give me Joel's number?"

Alex smiles, seemingly pleased that he's off the hook as he takes his phone in hand and sends you his best friend's phone number.

You meet Joel at the bakery that week. To your surprise he's there before you, dressed in worn jeans and a t-shirt and he smiles brightly at you as you approach.

"Hey," he says. "Ready to eat some cake?"

"I think this will be my favorite part of planning this whole wedding," you reply. He laughs as he pulls the door open for you to step inside, following in behind you.

"Welcome to Buttercup Bakery! Can I help y'all with anything?" A young woman with a name tag reading BEVERLY asks from behind the counter, pink and white apron tied around her waist.

"I have a cake tasting appointment," you reply, giving her your name for the reservation.

"Excellent! If you want to go ahead and take a seat anywhere you'd like, I'll bring out the tasting options and we'll get you squared away in no time!"

She disappears through swinging doors as you and Joel take a seat at a pink acrylic table with matching chairs. He looks around the shop with interest.

"What made you pick this place?" He asks.

"Had the best reviews," you say with a shrug. His brow furrows.

"Alex didn't suggest it? He helpin' you at all with this weddin'?"

He says it with a laugh, but the question makes you dig your fingernails into your palm. "He's just really busy with work. I've been doing a lot of the planning."

“What about your uh, what are they called? Bridesmaids?”

“They’re all back in New York. It’s just me.”

“I thought your parents were here, too? Isn’t Alex workin’ with your dad now?”

“It’s just my dad, he’s back in New York. His partner opened a firm in Austin and Alex is working with that office. He’s hoping to make partner soon, too.”

Joel nods, eyes scanning your face but you keep your expression as neutral as possible. The swinging doors open and Beverly returns with a marble tray, bites of cake artfully arranged on the surface. She sets it on the table between you and Joel.

“Okay! These are our six most popular flavor combinations for you to start with and if there’s something more custom you have in mind, we can totally make that happen,” she says. “Starting at the top, we have classic vanilla with vanilla buttercream, chocolate cake with chocolate ganache and chocolate buttercream, our signature champagne cake with strawberry buttercream, lemon cake with lavender buttercream, caramel cake with caramel mocha buttercream, and white chocolate cake with raspberry jam and white chocolate raspberry buttercream.”

Joel grins at you. “This might be the best thing anyone has ever asked me to help with.”

“I’ll leave you guys to it,” Beverly says with a wink, walking back to the counter.

“I don’t know which to start with,” you say, eyes scanning the selections.

“That chocolate one is callin’ my name,” Joel replies, spearing one of the chocolate cake bites with a fork and taking a bite. He hums appreciatively. “Oh yeah, that one is a winner.”

You choose the vanilla to start, taking a bite of the moist cake with buttercream that tastes strongly of vanilla bean with a hint of cinnamon. The simplicity makes it good, but overall the flavor doesn't stand out to you. Joel continues to take bites seemingly at random while you opt to go around the tray in the order that Beverly introduced the flavors.

"Any of them stickin' out to you?" Joel asks when you've reached the half-way point.

"They're all delicious," you reply. "I think Alex would probably like the vanilla best, though."

"I didn't ask what Alex would like, I asked if there were any that you liked." He spears the remaining piece of white chocolate raspberry with his fork and holds it up to you. "Here, try this one next."

You eye the fork dubiously. "I don't think--"

Joel slips the bite of cake into your mouth despite your interrupted disagreement, smiling at you triumphantly. You chew the bite begrudgingly.

"I think that one and the chocolate one are my favorite," Joel says as you swallow.

Beverly returns at that moment, a notepad in hand as she pulls up a third chair to the tiny bistro table.

“So? What are your thoughts?”

“I think I’m going to get the vanilla,” you tell her. Joel’s jaw ticks, almost like he’s upset you’ve chosen the flavor that you said Alex would like. “But, could I get alternating tiers of the white chocolate raspberry, too?”

Joel’s lips quirk up in a small smile and you try to ignore the way it makes your stomach flip.

Joel: Have you picked flowers yet?

Not yet.

Joel: I know a place. You busy today?

You stare the at the message in surprise. You weren’t expecting to hear from Joel again, but his name on your screen has you fighting back a smile.

I’m not busy. When did you want to go?

Joel: They open at noon. Here’s the address.

“Baby, have you seen my blue tie?” Alex calls from upstairs. You drop your phone to the counter like you’ve been caught doing something wrong.

“Which one?” You reply, pressing a hand to your chest.

“The plaid one!”

“Should be in your tie drawer!”

“It’s not here!”

You pinch your nose, making your way to the stairs to join him in your shared bedroom. He’s standing in front of his tie drawer, hands on his hips as he stares at the contents. You peek over his shoulder and reach into the back, pulling out the neatly folded blue and green patterned tie.

He takes it from your hand. “That one should be towards the front. Can you remember that next time you put away dry cleaning?”

“Sure.” You bite your lip to hold back the sigh that threatens to spill. “You want me to tie it for you?”

“No, thanks, I need it to be perfect. Big meeting,” he says, his lips tilted in a smile that feels condescending. He leans into you, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “Love you.”

“Love you, too,” you murmur, watching his back as he enters the bathroom and shuts the door behind him.

Joel is waiting outside of a dark green storefront when you arrive at the address he’d sent you. He smiles when he sees you, a true one that makes the corners of his eyes crinkle slightly, and it gives you this strange feeling of emptiness because you can’t remember the last time Alex smiled at you like that.

When you’re close enough, he pulls you into a hug that envelops you in strong arms and the scent of woods at nightfall with a hint of citrus. Your eyes flutter shut as you hug him back and breathe him in.

He releases you and immediately you feel a chill in losing his warmth despite the oppressive Texas heat. You look at the shop as he steps back, taking in the gorgeous floral arrangements in the window and cursive script painted on the glass that says PETAL TO THE METAL.

Joel opens the door to the shop, a brass bell ringing to announce your entrance. A man at the counter in the center of the store looks up and grins at you both.

“Joel! Nice to see you,” the man says. You watch as they shake hands with familiarity, the man behind the counter smiling kindly. “You must be the bride. I’m Frank.”

You give Joel a look of surprise before introducing yourself and shaking Frank’s hand. “It’s nice to meet you. Do you two know each other?”

“Joel’s an old friend of ours.”

“Ours?”

A back door bangs open, someone emerging with their arms so full of potted plants you can’t see their face. A deep voice let’s out a series of curses.

“This is my partner, Bill,” Frank says. “He’s not much of a people person. Great with plants, though.”

“A little help would be nice,” Bill grunts. Frank rolls his eyes but leaves the counter to take a couple pots from Bill’s hands, revealing a man with long brown hair and a grizzled expression hidden amongst a thick beard. Frank leans in and kisses his cheek.

“You need only ask,” Frank says. Bill’s cheeks turn pink beneath his thick facial hair. Despite the annoyed expression on his face, his eyes are soft as he watches Frank. “Let me grab you the event portfolio and we can talk about your wedding. Have a look around.”

As Frank leaves and Bill busies himself arranging the new plants, you and Joel wander the shop and take in aisles and shelves of different flowers with little gold name cards in their pots or on their buckets.

“So,” Joel says, “How are you liking Austin?”

“It’s…hot,” you reply. “Really, really hot.”

“That’s the south for ya, sweetheart.”

Your face grows hot at the endearment and how it seemed to just roll off his tongue. “Have you lived in Austin your whole life?”

“Texas born n’ bred,” he says proudly, puffing his chest out.

“You never wanted to live anywhere else?”

“I’ve always thought Wyoming sounded nice. A farm that I built, some sheep, no neighbors for miles,” he says wistfully. “Maybe someday.”

“Building a farm, huh? You good with your hands, Joel?”

He blinks at you. “Y-yeah. I mean, I’m a contractor. I gotta be.”

“That’s impressive,” you tell him, biting your lip to hold back your laughter at his flustered response.

Frank approaches, lifting a heavy book in his hands. “You ready to pick some flowers?”

Joel holds the door open for you as the two of you leave the flower shop an hour later. He waves goodbye to Bill and Frank with a promise to visit them for dinner soon before following you down the sidewalk.

“You wanna get lunch?” Joel offers. “My treat.”

You pull your phone from your pocket to check your messages and finding none from Alex, you think to yourself, why not?

“Sure,” you agree.

That's how you find yourself sitting on a bench in the park with Joel Miller, your husband's best friend, talking to him about everything and nothing as you eat street tacos from a food truck nearby. He makes you laugh so hard you choke on birria, the sauce dripping down your chin. He reaches out, wiping the mess with a brown napkin while he smiles so bright it puts the sun to shame.

Later that night, while you're in bed, you can't help but think today was the best day you've had in a long time.

And you're not sure what that means.

You begin texting Joel regularly. You ask him for his opinion on things that Alex can’t be bothered with — the suit colors for the groomsmen (navy blue), the invitation stationary (the linen finish), and favors (miniature bottles of hot sauce - Joel assures you this will be a hit with the Texas crowd). In between those conversations, he sends you pictures from his construction sites or asks you how your day has been and whether you had gotten the chance to check out that show he recommended.

When you tell Alex about the wedding decisions you've made, leaving out the extent of Joel's help, he hums and nods at the appropriate intervals, feigning attentiveness while his thumb moves rapidly across his phone screen. It should bother you, you think, that your future husband is so uninvolved with planning his own wedding, but then your own phone lights up with Joel’s name and a goofy photo he sent from a construction site, his hard hat askew on his head and his eyes crossed, and your annoyance with Alex fades into background noise.

There’s one last item on your checklist that you’re more nervous to ask Joel for help with than the others — dress shopping. You could probably fly back to New York and be with your friends for the momentous occasion but you’re certain that Alex wouldn’t appreciate your absence for something he considers so frivolous.

Not that you say anything when he’s gone for his golfing trips.

You’re staring at Joel’s contact screen, working up the nerve to call him and ask him if he’d be willing to come dress shopping with you, when it lights up with an incoming call, his name at the top of the screen like just your thoughts summoned him. You answer on the third ring.

“Hey, I was just about to call you,” you tell him.

“So that’s why my ears were itchin’,” he laughs. “You need somethin’?”

You take a steadying breath. “I just have one more thing I need help with and then you won’t have to deal with me.”

“I don’t mind helpin’ you, sweetheart.” You stomach flutters at the nickname and he clears his throat to fill the loaded silence that follows his words. “Now, tell me what you need.”

“Could you come dress shopping with me?”

“That all? Just tell me where and when,” he says. You breathe a sigh of relief, giving him the details of the appointment you made at a local boutique. He promises to meet you there this weekend before hanging up.

The word sweetheart in Joel’s deep voice echoes through your mind for the rest of the day.

Joel looks hilariously out of place on the pristine white couch located in the middle of the dress boutique, a dainty glass of champagne held in his large hand. You sit beside him, your legs touching as you watch the sales associate flit around the store, pulling hangers of dresses from the racks.

“That’s a lot of dresses,” Joel comments, taking a sip of champagne.

“You not up for the challenge?” You tease. He laughs, the corners of his eyes crinkling with his wide smile.

“Trust me, I’m up for the challenge. We’re goin’ to find you the best damn weddin’ dress Texas has ever seen,” he promises.

“Alright, I’ve got some gorgeous choices here for you,” the associate announces, holding up a handful of ivory hangers draped in all types of fabric from satin to chiffon. “You wanna follow me and we’ll get started?”

You follow her to the fitting room and she sets the hangers on a rack, fanning out the dresses so that you can get a better look. There’s five of them in a variety of styles, including an impressive ball gown boasting layers of tulle that trails to the floor.

“I’ll try that one first,” you tell her, pointing to ball gown.

“What’s your fiancé’s name?” She asks as you undress, taking the gown from the hanger and arranging it on the floor for you to step into it.

“Alex,” you reply. She drags the bodice up and instructs you to hold it to your chest while she laces up the corset back.

“I think it’s sweet that you’ve brought him with you.”

“Oh, no. That’s Joel, he’s my husband’s best friend.”

“Really?” She asks, the strings tightening around your waist. “The way you two look at each other, I would have bet money he was the one marrying you." You're about to ask what she means when she finishes tying off the bodice and says, "Wow, this dress is stunning on you."

Her comment retreats to the back of your mind as you look at yourself in the mirror. The strapless white gown hugs your chest and waist, flaring out into a layered skirt with lace appliques. There's beading on the sweetheart neckline that trails down the bodice in intricate patterns that catch the light of the fitting room. The dress is stunning.

Marnie leads you back out to the showroom, helping you step up onto a raised platform in front of a trifold mirror that shows you your reflection from multiple angles. You twist and turn, taking in all the details of it before finally facing Joel.

"Damn," Joel says. "That sure is one hell of a dress."

"It's...a lot." You twist your hips from side to side, the heavy skirt swishing across the floor. "I feel like a cupcake and I don't know if I'll be able to dance in it."

"You wanna test it out?"

He's standing before you can respond, reaching a hand into yours to guide you down from the pedestal. When you're on the floor, he wraps an arm around your low back, pulling you close while swaying side to side.

The world around you goes a little blurry and the only thing in perfect clarity is Joel. The feel of his hand in yours, the weight of his arm at the small of your back, the clean smell of soap and citrus, everything is just....Joel.

"How's it feel?" He asks, voice low. You tilt your head back to look up at his face.

"Huh?"

"The dress...dancin'...how's it feel?"

The question drags you back to reality, where you're currently dancing around a bridal salon with a man who isn't your fiance. You pull away from him, returning to the pedestal as the bridal associate joins the two of you again.

"Uh...I don't think this is the dress for me. Can we try the next one?"

You try on two other dresses in quick succession, neither of them leaving a lasting impression. It's the fourth dress that really gives you pause as you look at yourself in the fitting room mirror.

"Honey," the associate says, adjusting the off-the-shoulder sleeves of the dress, "This dress was made for you."

The scooped neckline highlights the lines and curves of your neck and shoulders, the corset bodice hugging your curves in satin folds. The skirt fans out from the waist, similar to the silhouette of the ball gown without all the additional weight and fabric and a thigh high slit allows for some extra movement.

She leads you back out into the showroom and helps you once more onto the pedestal. You grin at your reflection as she fixes the skirt into place.

"Well?" You ask, catching Joel's eye in the mirror. His mouth is set in a serious line, brows pinched together and his arms crossed over his chest. You own smile falters. "You don't like it? What's with the look?"

He shakes his head, his serious expression morphing into a smile that doesn't reach his eyes. "You look..." His voice trails off and he clears his throat. "Alex is a lucky son of a bitch."

You laugh, lifting the skirt so that you can step off the pedestal. Joel's eyes drop, his gaze fixing on the skirt as you walk towards him.

"You think so?" You ask quietly, stepping in close.

"Yeah, sweetheart," he murmurs. A single finger runs down your arm, goosebumps erupting over your skin in its wake. "I know so."

With the wedding plans finalized, your attention returns to your work as a web design consultant. Your client portfolio starts to build once more, keeping you busy in the months leading up to your big day. Alex remains focused on his work at the firm, working long days and longer nights that have him arriving home well after you've gone to bed, the two of you just ships passing in the dark. You would feel lonely, you think, if not for Joel.

The two of you still message each other frequently, though you don't see him again until a month before the wedding, when Alex invites him over for dinner one Saturday night.

The doorbell rings just as you put the chicken in the oven and you wipe your hands before going to answer it, your heart racing. Joel's sweet smile greets you when you open the door and seeing him across the threshold has the tension in your shoulders easing the slightest bit.

He steps across the threshold, strong arms wrapping around your waist in a tight hug. Footsteps on the stairs have him releasing you far sooner than you would have liked.

"Joel, my man! Glad you could make it," Alex says as he reaches the first floor. "Honey, is the table set?"

"No, not yet," you reply.

"You need any help?" Joel asks. You open your mouth to respond, but Alex jumps in to say, "No, she's got this. Let me give you the tour."

You watch as Alex leads Joel upstairs, commanding his friend's attention. You swallow down the anger that rises in your throat at your fiancé's dismissal and return to the kitchen, gathering the place settings and arranging the table to his liking.

"It's a nice place," Joel says as the two men enter the living room, which opens to the kitchen and dining areas.

"All that work finally paying off," Alex comments. You roll your eyes, fighting the urge to mention that you were the one who fronted the down payment for Alex's choice of home in Texas. The oven beeps and you pull out the chicken parmesan that had been baking.

"Smells good," Joel comments. You look up, catching his eye. A wordless understanding passes between you, a quiet appreciation that makes your blood run hot.

You plate the food while your fiancé uncorks a bottle of wine and pours it into the wine glasses at each place setting. Alex settles in at head of the table and Joel takes the seat to the left, leaving you with the seat to Alex's right, across from Joel.

The three of you make small talk between bites of dinner and sips of wine. Alex asks Joel about the contracting work he's been doing, Joel asks him about his work at the new office and how he's settling in, being back in his home state. It's halfway through dinner that Joel looks to you and asks, "Are you excited for the wedding next month?"

"Of course," you reply, fingers tangling in the cloth napkin resting across your lap. "Planning it was a labor of love."

"Right, thanks for helping her with the cake, man," Alex chimes in.

Joel chuckles. "Helped with a lot more than just the cake."

"What do you mean?" Alex asks, glancing between the two of you.

"Well, I helped get the flowers, the cake, pickin' out the stationary. Dress shoppin'," Joel clarifies. Your stomach drops as Alex's jaw grows tense, his brow pinched as he nods and pastes on a forced smile.

"Wow, I didn't realize you'd been so involved," Alex says. He removes the napkin from his lap, setting it on the table. "Would you excuse us for a second?"

Alex stands, looking down at you expectantly. You smile at him and Joel in turn, but the expression feels hollow and you taste bile in the back of your throat. As soon as you're on your feet, Alex has a strong hand wrapped around your wrist, urging you along behind him as he makes his way towards the stairs.

Once he's reached your shared bedroom, he turns to you, eyes filled with rage. “What the fuck is that about?”

“What do you mean?” You ask. He laughs, the sound devoid of any humor.

“He helped you pick out your dress?” Alex paces the length of the bedroom like a caged animal and for the first time in your relationship with him, a frisson of fear courses through your veins. “You can’t possibly be that fucking stupid?”

“Excuse me?” You snap. “You told me to ask him for his help!”

“With the cake!” Alex shouts. “Not the entire goddamn wedding! Do you have any idea how that makes me feel?”

“You weren’t exactly offering much help, Alex!”

His eyes narrow. “I thought you would be perfectly capable of planning shit on your own, but I guess that was giving you too much credit.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You ask. “Why are you being such a fucking asshole right now?”

“Because you’re my fiancé, not Joel’s!” He steps in close, towering above you as he hisses, “Did you fuck him?”

“No!” You shout.

His eyes search yours and whatever he finds seems to extinguish his anger, his coiled muscles loosening. He grips your shoulders, pressing his forehead to yours.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs. “Why don’t you head back downstairs and I’ll stay up here for a minute to cool off, okay?”

The sudden switch leaves your head spinning but you manage to nod. Alex kisses your forehead and you take that as your cue to leave, escaping the confines of your room. In the hall, you grip the banister of the loft that overlooks the living room and take the first real breath in what feels like ages, your eyes squeezed shut as you try to calm your racing heart.

You return to the kitchen and Joel’s head snaps up when you enter. He rises from his seat at the table, rushing to your side.

“Are you okay?” He asks, low voice filled with concern, his brows pinched with worry. “What the fuck was that?”

“Just a misunderstanding,” you murmur, pushing past him.

“That’s bullshit,” he hisses. “Is he always like that?”

“Like what?” You sigh.

“An asshole. Yellin’ and threatenin’ you.” His fists are clenched at his sides. “He ever hit you?”

“What? No, of course not.” You take a deep breath, beating back the wave of tears pressing at the corners of your eyes. “He’s just got a lot going on with the move and work and the wedding.”

Joel is quiet, watching you with keen brown eyes that you, for once, wish weren’t focused on you. He steps close, voice low as he says, “Be honest with me, sweetheart.”

“I’m fine, Joel,” you tell him. The lie claws at your throat and sends your stomach into a tailspin. “I promise.”

Footsteps echo on the stairs and you step away from Joel, busying yourself with loading the dishwasher, clearing the counters, anything to keep your hands occupied and stop their shaking. Alex enters the kitchen with a sharp smile.

“Hey, man, sorry about that,” he says, clapping Joel on the shoulder. “I think we’re ready to call it a night. Ain’t that right, honey?”

You force yourself to keep your eyes on Alex as you smile and say, “Yeah, baby.”

“Let me walk you out, Joel,” Alex says. “Honey, say bye.”

“Goodbye, Joel.”

Joel: Hey

Joel: You having a good week?

Joel: Been a while. You doing okay?

Joel: You’ve been quiet

Joel: I need to know you’re okay.

Joel: Just let me know

Joel: Please

“Just two more days until you’re my wife,” Alex says, pressing a kiss to your lips. He smiles at you and you mirror the expression as best you can.

“I can't wait,” you reply.

"I gotta get going," Alex says. He presses a kiss to your cheek as he passes where you're sitting at the bar. "Love you."

"Love you," you repeat, out of reflex more than affection.

The front door slams shut and quiet settles over the house. All you want to do is crawl back into bed and pull the covers over your head in the hopes that it protects you from the way time continues to creep forward despite your uncertainties. Maybe, if you lay there long enough, time will move on without your involvement.

Your thoughts are interrupted by a heavy knock at the door. You’re not sure who it could be — your dad is scheduled to fly into town in the late afternoon and your friends arrive early tomorrow morning and you’re fairly certain you don’t have any deliveries scheduled. Sliding from the bar stool, you leave the kitchen to answer the door.

Joel stands on the other side of the threshold, haloed by the morning sun. For a brief moment, you wonder if you’re dreaming.

“What are you doing here?” You finally ask.

“Can I come in?” He replies, running a hand through his already messy hair. “I need to talk to you.”

You step aside and allow him to enter the hallway, shutting the door behind him. You avoid his gaze as you return to the living room with him following behind you. The silence that settles between the two of you makes you want to crawl out of your skin.

"Why haven't you been talkin' to me?" Joel asks. He takes a step closer, brown eyes searching yours for an answer you try to keep hidden.

"I've been busy," you say.

"Cut the bullshit," he snaps, surprising you. "Is it because of what happened at dinner?"

"No," you reply. Joel must sense the brief hesitation, hear the weakness in your voice. His eyes go soft, full of pity, and you can't fucking stand it. "Don't look at me like that."

"Look, I've known Alex a long time, and all those years weren't exactly peachy," he says cryptically. "I love him like a brother but even family ain't without faults.” He steps in close, his hands cradling your face in a delicate grip. “Tell me this is what you want," he demands. "Tell me that you're happy with Alex. Tell me that there's nothin' here between us."

The words are there, right on the tip of your tongue, but nothing can bring them to life. Your heart beats a frantic rhythm against your ribcage, the rush of blood in your ears the only thing you can hear. He leans closer, eyes dropping to your lips and you know what's about to happen next but you can't bear the thought of stopping him as he closes the scant distance between your mouths.

For the briefest moment, you allow yourself the chance to just feel. No thoughts, no panic, no worry. Just Joel's warm lips moving against yours, the trace of his palm from you cheek to behind your head, pulling you closer even though you're already tightly pressed to him. It's slow and deep, like he's trying to convince you down to your marrow that this is where you're supposed to be.

But it's not.

You push him away and he doesn't fight you, but the look he gives you damn near shatters your resolve. His eyes are dark, jaw tense, hands flexing at his sides like he's fighting the urge to reach out and pull you back, damn the consequences. Your eyes and throat burn with the effort of holding back the tears that threaten to spill.

"You need to leave," you whisper. "You can't do this, we can't do this. I'm getting married in two days, Joel!"

He runs a hand through his hair, pulling on the strands in frustration. "You think I don't know that? You think I don't lay awake at night thinkin' what a fuckin' asshole I am for fallin' in love with my best friend's fiancé?!" He shouts.

"This isn't love, Joel--"

"Don't," he snaps. "Don't you lie to me. I know it, you know it, hell, the fuckin' lady at the dress shop knew it!" He takes a deep breath. "I'm showin' you my whole hand here and you won't even lay down a goddamn card!"

"There is no card!" You shout.

"You kissed me back!" He counters.

You stare at each other for a long moment, like two scared, wounded animals. Eventually, one of you has to back down, retreat, lick their wounds until they've healed in a messy pattern of scar tissue that will serve as a painful reminder of what could have been.

Joel sighs, another pass of his hand through his hair as he says, "You know what? Fine." He turns to leave, the line of his shoulder lower, his head low.

A glutton for punishment, you call out, "Joel?"

"Yeah?" He asks, weary. Bone tired. You feel it, too.

"Will you still be there tomorrow?" You ask, unsure of which answer would be worse.

Another sigh. "Yeah. I'll be there."

The door slams shut behind him.

Your rehearsal dinner is torture.

This should be one of the happiest events of your life but all your energy is being directed at avoiding Joel like the plague. He moves through the crowd comfortably, having known many people in attendance for most of his life, and you feel like an unmoored boat, hoping a wave doesn't crash over you.

Alex sits beside you, drinking from a glass of whiskey as he talks to one of his uncles that has been praising him for landing the opportunity to work with such a prestigious law firm right after college. A dizzying rotation of people approach you through the night - friends who chatter excitedly about the big day tomorrow, aunts who ask when you think you'll have children, uncles who tell you that they're proud of you for landing such a successful, promising young man. It's those last comments that have you hiding a frown in your champagne glass.

It drags on forever, this constant stream of polite conversation and forced smiles. When you finally return to the hotel that you're staying at for the night, you start to feel like you can breathe again. You have a suite separate from Alex's for getting ready early in the morning and he walks you to your room, hand on your low back, a smile on his face.

"I'll see you in the morning," he says, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. "My almost wife."

The sentiment has bile rising in your throat and as he turns to leave you're blurting the words, "I can't do this."

"Sweetheart, you're just nervous," he says, voice surprisingly calm. He squeezes your shoulders. "You just need to sleep it off and everything will be fine in the morning."

"No," you tell him, shaking your head. "No, it won't be fine."

His smile drops, like a mask has just been removed. "Where is this coming from? Everything was fine at the rehearsal."

"Everything was not fine at the rehearsal!"

Alex takes the room key from your hands, unlocked the door and ushering you inside. He flicks on the light to the sitting area and takes a seat on the couch.

"What's going on with you?" He asks, exasperation dripping from his words. "What do you mean the rehearsal wasn't fine? Did you not like the food or something?"

You stare at him incredulously. "The problem wasn't the food, Alex! The problem is us!"

"There's no problem with us," he says. "Unless there's something you want to tell me?"

"What do you mean?" You ask.

He stands, coming close. "Is this about Joel?"

"No!" You snap, perhaps too quickly. "This isn't about Joel."

"Then what is it? Because as far as I know, we're a perfectly happy couple."

"Perfectly happy? Alex, you didn't even help me plan this wedding. Not a single minute of it."

"Not this again," he groans. "Sweetheart, let it go. I'm sorry, okay? Is that what you need to hear?"

Your jaw aches with how hard your teeth grind together as he dismisses you so easily. A deep breath in through your nose and out through your mouth steadies you enough to say, "I'm not marrying you."

"Baby, please," Alex says. For the first time, he sounds panicked. "Don't make any rash decisions, alright? Whatever this is, we can work through it. If I lose you, I lose everything."

Maybe he's right. Maybe the stress of the last few months has just caught up to you.

"Okay," you whisper. He breathes a sigh of relief and presses another kiss to your temple.

"I love you," he says. "Everything will be okay after tomorrow. You'll see."

You don't say anything back, and he doesn't wait around for a response. He leaves your suite, the click of the door shutting loud in the late night silence. You stand there for who knows how long, wondering if he's right. Would everything be alright after tomorrow? Could you sweep those lingering feelings for Joel to the side in favor of the life you'd been building for the last few years?

You know what the safe choice is, but is it the right choice?

It's the morning of your wedding day and you've been poked and prodded with makeup brushes and your hair has been perfectly styled for the occasion. Flashbulbs have been going off on the cameras that are documenting your special day, capturing moments like your bridesmaids helping you into your dress and your dad's first look, a handkerchief clutched in his hand as he smiled at you.

For the first time in hours, you're alone in your suite. The makeup artist and hair stylists have packed up and taken their leave and your friends are downstairs, waiting for the limousine. You told them you would be just a minute longer.

A soft knock at your door has you realizing that you may have taken too long and you shout an apology as you rush to answer it. But it's not one of your friends on the other side like you had expected.

It's Joel.

Your mouth goes dry at the sight of him. His hair is styled, curls smoothed and slicked back into submission. His white shirt is a stark contrast to his navy blue tuxedo, matching bow tie tight around his neck. His boutonnière is slightly crooked where it sits pinned to his jacket lapel. He looks you up and down with a small smile.

"You look beautiful," he says. He reaches for your hand, fingers tangling with yours. Never quite folding together, but never quite letting go, either.

"Thank you," you whisper.

"Are you ready?" He asks. You wonder if he knows, if Alex told him or if he can just see it on your face.

"Yes."

It's a lie, one you've been repeating since your alarm went off this morning after a night of tossing and turning. His smile falters, but doesn't drop.

"Good, that's....good," he says. His hand leaves yours, and you feel like you've had an entire unspoken conversation that's left you both defeated. "Lets go get you married."

Joel Miller masterlist

All masterlists

divider graphic by @saradika-graphics.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller x female reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel tlou #no use of y/n #joel x reader #joel the last of us #joel miller fanfic #joel miller tlou #pedro pascal character fanfic #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character fic

807 notes · View notes