#I love posing big hair SO MUCH!

[this-is-ris]

moon, sun, all reminds me of your grace-

ft. @e-nishka-aosh

[nipuni]

Ten and Missy! Our Halloween costumes 🥰

[sysig]

Family ♥ (Patreon)

[rucow]

(WIP incoming! beware of very sketchy sketch!!)

i love that my poto brainrot is so severe that i gave one of my ocs a whole new design inspired by the phantom,,, except its light & sun themed instead of Dark and Emo like our favourite sewer skrunkle,,,

[gothsuguru]

@teddybeartoji @staryukis @twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat

Im afraid I cooked

[shotmrmiller]

getting shot down by ghost without even asking him out or anything because he'd heard from one scottish bird that your type of guy was exactly like him and thinking back on it now, all the qualities you'd listed for your dream man do sound like as if you were describing him. yikes.

you don't take his rejection to heart, even though it does lightly sting but before you get a chance to explain that said scottish bird is an idiot and very mistaken in his assumption, ghost is telling you that it'd never work, you'd only get hurt and that you do take to heart because what does that mean, exactly? does he think you some dewy eyed farm girl looking for love? that you can't have casual sex with someone without eventually wanting for more?

"tha' ain't wha' i said. you'd get hurt, i mean look at ya." what about you? it's not like you'd let any of what happens behind closed doors affect your performance or anything, you and kyle always keep things professional while in the field.

also, is he aware that he doesn't have to have a reason to not want to sleep with you, or anyone else for that matter?

"you're small," he states, as if fact.

small? small where? your irritation dissipates, shoulders bleeding tension as genuine worry begins to set in. his vision might actually be going bad. could it be the black paint he wears under his mask? is it even safe to use on the face let alone near the eyes? did he read the instructions?

but then you realize he's looking at your legs, or specifically, what's between them and things click, and now you're wondering how someone so bloody brilliant could be this fucking stupid.

"while i appreciate your concern, lieutenant," you pointedly snap, "that's not even- i'd be just fine." he's a big guy, for sure. massive, if being honest. his neck alone is easily bigger than both your hands and you've caught him once or twice having to duck his head to enter the debriefing room but him being so endowed that it poses a threat to you is idiotic at best.

he hums, long and low in his throat, as he peers down at you through heavy lidded eyes, and raises his right shoulder in a shrug. "as you like," and that's the one and only warning you got.

simon had given you as much foreplay as needed, had lapped at your pussy until you forgot what day of the week it was, curled and scissored his fingers until his bedsheets were sodden and it still hadn't been enough. he'd only fit about a fourth of it in before he took pity on you and fucked your thighs instead until he got close, pushing his ruddy tip back into your aching cunt because "spillin' outside is a waste," and sent you on your merry way.

you're no quitter though and after some shopping online, your saving grace (dilators) will be here in a week.

(now to find soap and rip the rest of his hair right out his scalp for wagging his tongue.)

[chuluoyi]

✎ forever

- gojo satoru x reader

the three times he asked you to marry him

genre: slightly suggestive, fluff/comfort, silly and lovesick gojo, wedding proposals, mild angst, mentions of injury and protective gojo

note: i was inspired by some fics with this kind of trope and i can totally see gojo asking you to marry him while he's dead drunk—

a part of gojo's love entries

general masterlist

"Why don't we get married?"

The first time Satoru brought this up was right after you both had exhausted yourselves in an intense, passionate lovemaking session.

His bare skin was against yours, and the intimacy of it almost made you want to go along with his suggestion, until you grasped the profound meaning behind his words.

"Satoru," you breathed out, still breathless as you came down from your high. "Are you seriously asking me that now?"

A dopey smile was on his face. "Yeah, is there a problem with it?"

You blinked. The nerve of this clown-head—

"Not even a proper proposal? Or a ring?" you scowled. "Considering your usual flair, this is a rather lackluster attempt at a proposal."

Of course, you weren't a material girl, but considering his big ego and tendency to go overboard, you just had to call him out.

"Hmm? So if there's a grand proposal and I bought you a ring, then you'll say yes?"

There was practically a twinkle in those bright eyes of his now, and you were a bit caught off guard because well, so he is for real?

You’d be lying if you said that the thought of marrying him hadn’t crossed your mind. But to be frank, Gojo Satoru didn't strike you as someone who was interested in anything as cliché as marriage and everything that comes with it.

Which brought you back to this point—you had absolutely no idea what possessed him to bring up this question.

"Hah," you let out a sardonic laugh. "Not that easy. I'll think about it."

When he let out a “Ehhh?”, and started sulking, you were quite sure, and dismissed the question as one of his passing whims.

The second time he posed the question, he was a babbling, slurring mess of alcohol and hiccups.

"Can't we—hic!—" His face was flushed, and he was pitifully wobbling on his feet. "—just get married—hic!—already?"

This time you scoffed, partly out of disdain, crossing your arms in front of you. Satoru seemed to pick up on your unfavorable reaction and attempted to convince you. "I'm being—"

"No," you sternly interrupted, supporting him as he struggled to stay on his feet. You shot an unapologetic look at the other patrons in the bar who were watching you both with disapproving frowns. "Satoru, we're going home."

"I'm—hic!—asking you to marry me!"

"I said no."

"Why?!"

You sighed. "You're dead drunk."

"What will—hic—make you say yes?"

You let out another sigh. It already took a great deal of patience to deal with his immaturity as his girlfriend, and you could only imagine how much more challenging it would be as his wife.

"I'm so heartbroken," he whined, crocodile tears pooling in his eyes as he peered at you like a kicked puppy. "I got rejected twice already... How could you reject me twice?"

You rolled your eyes at his theatrics.

"Marry me."

The third time around, he was neither bringing it up on a whim or drunk, also he wasn't quite asking—his tone was almost pleading.

And you just woke up from your comatose state after a mission gone wrong, still in your bloodied uniform, eyes barely adjusting to the bright room.

Satoru let out a grunt, clasping your fingers in his warm, reassuring grip. It was evident how deeply distressed he was from the furrowed brow and the quiver in his lips as he looked down at you, as well as the gentle way he was stroking your hair.

At this moment, you wanted to cry. The fact that he was so genuinely concerned for you filled you with warmth and emotion.

. . .

He saw it happen right before him—the crimson blood flowing out of your wound like waterfall. He had screamed at you to breathe and not let go of his hand. The moment he felt your head loll back in his arms and you lost your grip on him, he could swear his own heart had stopped too.

He had never been more grateful that you—his best friend, love of his life, the only one he had left—awoke from that horrifying ordeal. Seeing you stained red by your own blood had undoubtedly distorted his point of view, but his desire to marry you, as what he had been suggesting as of late, clearly was not just a mere passing thought.

Because he is acutely aware of how cruel this world is. This damned world has always taken everything that's important to him, and before they can snatch you away too, he will claim you as his first.

"Marry me," he repeated, his voice now sounding more hoarse, not as confident as it had been the first time.

As you gazed into his beautiful eyes, it occurred to your hazy mind that you very nearly died. That you were that close to not seeing him ever again. You had been apprehensive with how he had phrased his proposals so far, and you didn't want your marriage to be a split-second decision forced by some sort of looming omen.

And yet, falling in love with Gojo Satoru had never been the easiest, but you did anyway. He still held onto your hand, patiently awaiting your response—

—but suddenly, like a sharp whiplash effect, what shocked you was that who you saw then wasn't your boyfriend.

But rather, the man with the mantle of the strongest sorcerer alive.

You could lose him just as much as he could lose you. Sooner or later, who knows? His title is both a blessing and a curse. Up until now, it has been a blessing, but who can say when it might suddenly turn into a curse that tears him away from you?

. . .

This time, you didn't snort or doubt his intention. Instead, you smiled, embracing the profound flutter in your chest as you were being proposed.

"Okay," you whispered, voice dry. "Yes… I'll marry you, Satoru."

[chocogoldie]

Love Slip

bakugo katsuki x fem!reader

genre: fluff

contains: established relationship, a bit suggestive at one point

short continuation of Nip Slip 18+

It's been a while since the two of you started dating. Approximately three months, two days and forty-three minutes. But who's keeping count?

During your time together, you've come to learn many things about the blond ticking time bomb:

One, he's a very organized and clean guy. He has to-do lists separated into categories in his phones' notepad app, a strict schedule he follows everyday to stay in shape — not that he needs it, but getting to brag about being able to lift you up certainly strokes his ego — and an extremely neat room that stays neat no matter what. He brushes his teeth three times a day, eats healthy meals, has a proper skincare routine and smells of sweet caramel even when he's dripping with sweat coming back from the gym or from an intense training session with your classmates. ln short, his hygiene is top notch.

Two, he's a little bit of a gym freak. Not that you'd ever mind, you even find it hot most of the time, but sometimes he gets provoked by his other gym buddies, mainly Kirishima and Kaminari, to try out all sorts of exercises with you on his back. Push-ups, squats, even yoga poses, literally anything they can think of just to see if it'd work. You've fallen on your ass more than he'd like, or care, to admit. Not because he wasn't strong, no, but because you cannot concentrate on holding onto him for the life of you, always getting distracted by the way his muscles flex and how he grunts from exertion. It's a sight for sore eyes, strands of hair sticking to his forehead while his usually spiky hair dampens and falls down beautifully, framing his face. It reminds you of your first night together, so of course you wouldn't be able to pay attention to anything else. You don't mention how incredibly good he looks in his compression shirts. Yes, he bought multiple after you oggled him up and hinted at loving the way they fit muscly men.

And last but not least, he's clingier than anyone you've ever met which is a stark, and quite frankly adorable, contrast to his sharp appearance. You're working on some assignments? He's bringing you food and making himself comfortable on your bed while putting on a weird dating show on the TV, occasionally checking up on you to remind you to take breaks. You're going for a quick grocery run? He doesn't waste a second to throw on whatever clothes he can find and join you, walking around the store with the shopping cart and imagining you two as a married couple well into your marriage shopping for your little family. You're taking a bath? Scooch over, he's helping you wash your hair and back. You're feeling sad? He's bringing your favorite ice cream and listening to you vent while gently running his hands over your face, back, thighs, arms, anywhere to soothe you. He cradles your face when your sobbing gets louder, pressing his forehead against yours to help ground you into reality, to snap yourself out of your worries by murmuring “I'm here, baby,” or “I got you”. All in all, he's a big softie for you.

He often shows his affection through his actions, but sometimes when the two of you are alone and in the silence of your bedrooms, he pushes his embarrassment aside and spills his heart out. He vents about hero work, about how he doesn't think he's good enough, or rather, nice enough to be a hero, always ending up berating people to hide his true intentions and words. It's something he's always struggled with, but he's been working on it constantly with you, his friends, and in therapy. He tells you everything about what happened during his time in highschool, how the man literally died for a minute, and how much that impacted his life onwards. You listen intently and comfort him through it, crushing him into a tight embrace to remind him you're there for him as well and that you'd do anything to make him happy. He tells you that your presence is enough.

He whispers soft “I love you”'s each night before you two drift off to sleep, letting his hand rest on the small of your back underneath your shirt, needing to feel your skin against his to be able to sleep. The warmth your body provides gets rid of his reoccurring nightmares and allows him to sleep soundly throughout the night with you by his side. And he very quickly realizes he never wants to lose you. Ever.

Because he might've slipped into having a little crush on you, but he willingly chose to fall in love with you.

© chocogoldie 2024. do not translate, copy, or repost.

a/n: a little smth i came up with while waiting for the poll to finish :3 hope u enjoyed it! not proofread

[000-pawz]

drunk in love (bnd legal line) ˚ · .

bnd when they're drunk/when you're drunk , bnd x fem!reader , legal line reactions/headcanons , fluff , some suggestive sprinkles here and there , established relationship

more under the cut!

a/n: thank you for the request anonie! <3 this was so fun to write

sungho ˚ ⋆｡˚

when you are drunk

𐙚₊˚ if you call sungho while you're drunk at a friend's house, he'll be there in record time! he's not letting you go home alone or with someone else. he's going to make sure that you get home safe himself

𐙚₊˚ sungho is the best drunk sitter ever </3 he's making sure you are consistently drinking water throughout the night, getting food into your stomach the whole time (and rewarding you with kisses along the way!), and making sure you don't fall off of a roof or something

𐙚₊˚ at parties, he watches your cup the entire time, placing his hand over the top when you lean in to hug a friend, holding it for you while you go to the bathroom and everything!!! like he does not play about your safety at all

𐙚₊˚ if you start to get a little too out of hand, he knows it's time to take you home </3 and if you complain and pout about it, he'll just sigh and try to give you an incentive to cooperate like getting to steal all of his hoodies for a month (and of course, you give in!)

𐙚₊˚ throws you over his shoulder and carries you away when it's time to go and you're too drunk to walk >< pats your butt when you tell him to put you down lol

𐙚₊˚ helps you change into one of his big t-shirts and spoons you to sleep, pressing soft kisses to the crown of your head, whispering 'i love yous' into your ear until you fall asleep <3

when he is drunk

𐙚₊˚ i see sungho as someone with a pretty high tolerance, so it may take him a few drinks to start visibly showing that he's drunk

𐙚₊˚ the first sign would be how he laughs at everything. full on belly laughs, slapping his knee, falling over and it'll simply be because someone pronounced a word wrong or something >< like that is ijbol king

𐙚₊˚ sungho is an extrovert, yes, but he becomes the extrovert's final boss when he's drunk. he pretty much carries the conversation, but he probably is a little volume deaf too, like he gets really loud and hyper (at least he's cute though)

𐙚₊˚ he doesn't really get emotional, but his emotions are more raw for sure!! he might end up in an argument with someone at some point in the night if he's left alone for too long, so please keep an eye on him!!!

𐙚₊˚ he'll probably want to kiss you a lot. like even more than usual, and that's saying something. you'll be talking with a friend and he'll come up from behind you and slip an arm around your waist before pressing a kiss to your cheek and then he disappears again >< or if you two are just drinking alone, he'll peck your lips literally while you are in the middle of a sentence :C his impulse control is nonexistent when he's drunk like partner pretty so he kiss! it's that simple!

𐙚₊˚ getting home with sungho would be a personal podcast in your ear... he's going to be talking the entire time with exaggerated gestures, recapping his entire lift story because his filter completely disappears when he's drunk!!! and getting him to sleep is even harder </3 he'll be silent for a few minutes before asking you yet another question, so you have to kiss his lips and shush him to sedate him <3

˚ ⋆｡˚ riwoo

when you are drunk

𐙚₊˚ loves when you're all over him <3 sitting in his lap as you laugh with friends, kissing him all over his face, running your fingers through his hair... it makes him so happy

𐙚₊˚ will gladly take pictures of you if you ask! pretends to be your paparazzi like "miss y/n!!! over here!!!" before snapping a picture all dramatically while you pose like you're on the front cover of vogue <3 just silly and fun

𐙚₊˚ if you're under the influence, he'll want to make sure you have the most carefree, stress-free, most enjoyable experience possible! he'll compliment you the whole night so you never forget how pretty you are, makes sure you don't go past your limit, and piggybacks you while holding your heels <3

𐙚₊˚ smiles at you so fondly when you drunkenly ramble to him <3 he gives you the most cartoonish reactions to everything you're saying, and when you realize he's not actually listening and just admiring how cute you are, he just laughs softly and kisses you, urging you to continue

𐙚₊˚ feeds you throughout the night so you don't feel too sick in the morning!! as soon as you take a break from talking, he's putting a cracker in your mouth and telling you to chew lol

𐙚₊˚ very gentle when he lets you know it's time to go home, waiting patiently for you to finish saying goodbye to all your friends (even if it's the entire room of people) <3 after you surprise him with another kiss attack as soon as you step foot inside the home, he manages to get you into bed, removing your makeup for you once you're asleep, treating you like you're a piece of glass </3 he loves you sm

when he is drunk

𐙚₊˚ riwoo brings sweetheart energy to the function like <3 he's not that talkative when he's tipsy, choosing to just observe the scene with a smile on his face. you'll probably have to pull him up out of his seat to get him to mingle lol

𐙚₊˚ as soon as he hits the dance floor though, it's sooooo over!!! his hands will be on your hips as you guys dance, laughing into your ear, hyping you up as you break it down like!!! he'll be really touchy too, holding you from behind as he whispers into your ear, grinding into you from behind just to tease ><

𐙚₊˚ he'll probably eat a lot before drinking so he doesn't get too drunk, but it honestly never works </3 thankfully, he's able to stay pretty level-headed when he's drunk, so you never have to worry too much

𐙚₊˚ when he's drunk drunk, riwoo probably slurs his words a lot, and gets really giggly, and really corny. he'll crack the worst joke you've ever heard and then laugh at it because he thought it was the funniest thing ever (and please indulge him </3 he's too cute to not fake laugh at his jokes)

𐙚₊˚ i see him as the type to turn into jell-o when he gets really drunk. like he'll be leaning on you the entire time because if you let go, he's going straight to the floor. getting him to bed would be an entire workout because he just goes limp randomly and trips on air every three seconds pls

𐙚₊˚ riwoo definitely likes to be babied when he's drunk ^___^ he'll be giggling the entire time as you help him get his shoes off and change into more comfortable clothes like "riwoo, lift your arms up!" and he's doing it with the widest smile on his face (and if you tell him about it when he's sober, he'll be soooo embarrassed </3)

jaehyun ˚ ⋆｡˚

when you are drunk

𐙚₊˚ jaehyun is probably half-concerned/half-entertained the entire time </3 he's laughing whenever you stumble over your own feet, but his hands are quick to steady you to make sure you don't hurt yourself!!!

𐙚₊˚ records you with a big smile on his face when you're dancing on tables, cheering you on the entire time. but if your skirt starts riding up, he's quick to grab you down with his hands around your waist before helping you pull your skirt down <3

𐙚₊˚ taps his cheek whenever he wants a kiss because he knows that you love to kiss him when you're drunk </3 it becomes a game between the two of you during the night, where he taps his cheek randomly and you stop whatever you're doing to kiss him lol

𐙚₊˚ indulges you in all of your drunken activities! if you want to race him down the road barefoot, he's right there with you, his shoes tossed off to the side at the ready mark. or if you want to see who can do the most cartwheels, he wraps his jacket around your waist before the competition starts and then shows off that he can do more than you!

𐙚₊˚ if you're reaching your limit, he gently takes your cup from your hands with a little "alright, that's enough for you" and if you whine, he kisses your nose and goes "how about some water instead, hm?" and you reluctantly agree because he's just so sweet

𐙚₊˚ he's so subtle with the way he cares for you, you barely even notice what's going on. you're too busy having the time of your life to realize that jaehyun has already gotten you home, washed up and changed as you talk his ear off in your drunken haze >< he responds to everything while multi-tasking, making sure you get tucked in on your side just in case before you drift off <3

when he is drunk

𐙚₊˚ jaehyun clingy drunk agenda! he'll always want to have his hands on you in some way, whether it be hugging you from behind, holding your hand, or resting his head on your shoulder!

𐙚₊˚ probably needs to be bodyguarded when he first starts drinking. please do not dare him to do anything because he will do it. and he will prove that he can do it better than anyone has ever seen.

𐙚₊˚ although his energy is usually always at 100%, i think he mellows out a bit when he's really drunk. at first, when he's simply tipsy, he's the life of the party! cracking jokes with everyone, sparking up a conversation with anyone in his vicinity, even he's dancing on tables lol but once he gets really drunk, he gets a little quieter and sticks to your side!! (that's when you know it's time to take him home)

𐙚₊˚ jaehyun can get pretty emotional when he's drunk too. he could probably cry just from thinking about how much he loves you!! you won't even notice that he started to cry until he's sniffling, dabbing at his eyes :< and if you ask him what's wrong, he'll just be like "you're the best thing that's ever happened to me." and you're just like ???<3???<3??? because it'll come out of nowhere lol

𐙚₊˚ if you aren't with him at a party or something, he'll probably text you the entire time. just like paragraphs of how much he misses you, and how he loves you so so so so much, and he'll even send you cute drunk selfies so you know he is safe and having a good time!

𐙚₊˚ jaehyun can get very very needy when he's drunk! you could be chilling at home when he comes back from a friend's house and he'll be all over you, nuzzling his nose into your neck, kissing your shoulder, subtly trying to rub against your leg because he forgets to use his words :<

˚ ⋆｡˚ taesan

when you are drunk

𐙚₊˚ #1 instigator. he thinks that you are so funny when you're drunk >< how you'll do and say literally anything without a second thought and he encourages it even. it's cute to him

𐙚₊˚ like if you get into a rap battle with a random busker on the street, he's throwing imaginary money and tossing in random adlibs like he's a soundcloud rapper girlfriend lol

𐙚₊˚ always has an arm over your shoulder, holding you close to his side because you look so good and he doesn't want anyone to think you are single and try to hit on you! keeps you close to him at all times

𐙚₊˚ nothing really fazes him and he's good at keeping calm. like if you start to throw up, he'll simply hold your hair out of your face and rub your back softly before cleaning you up with a tiny smile. or if you suddenly burst out into tears, he's cooing at you, wiping your cheeks with his thumb, placing kissing on your nose <3

𐙚₊˚ but if you're blackout drunk, way past your limit, he gets really serious >< he'll sit you on the kitchen counter and make sure you drink a bunch of water, his eyes on you like a hawk. he'll rub your knee comfortingly to keep you present, praising you every few seconds for doing so well for him

𐙚₊˚ he'll tease you so much once you're sober, recounting all of the crazy things you did while you were drunk >< and when you start to get embarrassed, he wraps you up in his arms and reassures you that you are still cute to him no matter what <3

when he is drunk

𐙚₊˚ yapper. like. he's going to be talking soooo much!!! just about anything and everything, stumbling and slurring over his words as he recounts how he saw a squirrel earlier that day or something. shares wayyyy too many tmis too

𐙚₊˚ he definitely loosens up more when he's drunk. his composure and attention span goes straight out the window. he's usually pretty composed when he's sober for the most part, but as soon as he gets a few drinks in his system, something in him flips like a switch

𐙚₊˚ please do not let him pick up the karaoke mic oh my... he's going to attempt to have a rap battle with you or try to belt out the highest notes possible. he'll put on an entire show for your whole friend group!!! he might even join in on drinking games and stuff

𐙚₊˚ wanders off easily, so please can an eye on him!! he'll get distracted by every single thing, his feet carrying him away without a second thought >< you might even lose him for an hour, and then find him sitting in the kitchen eating a bag of chips with someone's hat on and a mustache drawn on his face

𐙚₊˚ taesan can get pretty pouty when he's drunk too. especiallyyyy if you're not giving him as much attention as he wants! you could be laughing with some friends and taesan will be sitting next to you with his arms crossed and the biggest kitty pout on his face ever because? why aren't you laughing with him!!!! (pls give him lots of kisses to make up for it!!!)

𐙚₊˚ he definitely has a habit of denying that he's drunk. he'll try to dismiss your help to get him home, or refuse to drink water, and claim that he can do everything by himself. he'll literally be tripping over his own feet as you try to help him into his bed and he'll be like "nooo i'm not drunk! i swear!" and then as soon as he hits the pillow, he's out like a light

leehan ˚ ⋆｡˚

when you are drunk

𐙚₊˚ follows you around like a guard dog the entire night! he knows that you like to run off and do reckless stuff when you get drunk, so he's keeping his eye on you

𐙚₊˚ makes all of your drinks himself and never lets you drink out of the punch bowl <3 you like to joke that he's your personal bartender and he takes the title with pride

𐙚₊˚ if you get really drunk and start getting emotional, he's quick to comfort you, even if you won't remember anything he said in the morning. he's cupping your cheeks, kissing your lips and telling you how much he loves you!!! he thinks it's so adorable when you start crying because of how much you love him, and he reminds you that he isn't going anywhere, ever <3

𐙚₊˚ super gentle with you when helping you wind down for the night!!! he'll remove your make up and help you brush your teeth with a quiet "say ahhh", smiling softly because you are just so cute and he's so in love

𐙚₊˚ lets you space out and stare at his fish tank while he makes you food to eat before you go to sleep so you can get something in your stomach! goes to the other side of the tank and makes a funny face through the glass just to see you giggle

𐙚₊˚ already has hangover medicine ready on your side table with water and snacks if you wake up and need something!!! please thank him a bunch in the morning for how well he took care of you <33

when he is drunk

𐙚₊˚ second highest tolerance i think! he definitely gets drunk quicker than sungho, but it still takes him a bit!!! mostly because no one can tell if he's actually drunk or not with the way he's able to keep his composure

𐙚₊˚ i don't see him as the type to chug a bunch of drinks immediately, probably only nursing one drink for a long time. he knows his limits, and tries to stick to them because he hates being hungover the next day!!! he has to feel good so he can take care of you instead <3

𐙚₊˚ he gets sooo flirty, it's unreal. he'll literally try to talk you up even though you guys are already together!! he'll comment on how good you look, his hand rubbing your thigh, leaning in to whisper into your ear and kiss your neck ><

𐙚₊˚ he gets really soft toward the end of the night, his head resting on your shoulder as he spaces out </3 he'll probably play with your fingers while you converse with your friends, laughing quietly every now and then, but his mind is on an entirely different planet. it's okay though because he knows you'll look after him!!!

𐙚₊˚ gets pretty defiant when he's had one too many drinks lol >< like if you tell him it's time to go home, he'll plant his feet into the ground so you physically cannot drag him away with a teasing look on his face. he might even just take a seat on the floor and look up at you with big puppy dogs eyes because he doesn't want to go yet!

𐙚₊˚ he sobers up pretty quickly and is usually fine by the time you guys get home!!! he'd probably want to shower together before cuddling up to you like a big teddy bear, usually asleep within a minutes, surrounded by your warmth <3

reblogs are greatly appreciated! thank u...<3

masterlist

[mermaidgirl30]

✨Her Bodyguard, His Shining Star Part 1: Kiss Me at Coachella✨

Bodyguard! Joel Miller x singer fem! reader

Series Masterlist

A/N: I do not know what came over me, but this was heavily inspired after watching Sabrina Carpenter’s “Espresso” Coachella performance. This one shot took over my whole Saturday and Sunday! Thank you to @mountainsandmayhem for helping me with a title and the mood board and for being my beta! 🩷 This is both in Joel and reader’s POV. Comments and reblogs make my day. Enjoy, lovelies!

Summary: You’re performing at Coachella, throwing winks and flirting with your eyes as Joel Miller watches you from the side of the stage. He’s your bodyguard, and he should know better, but he wants you just as much as you want him.

Word Count: 8.1k

Rating: 18+ Only MDNI

Tags: Fluff, flirting, pining, oral (female receiving), dirty talk, cute pet names, unprotected p in v, switching POVs, reader is a singer, Joel is a bodyguard, reader has long hair, large age gap (reader is 25, Joel is 44)

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

The warm sun glows against your glittering skin, the music pumping like sugary coffee running through your veins. The crowd chants along with you, singing every lyric you do while they hold their phones and snap videos while you twirl around to the rhythm of the upbeat song. You flash them big smiles, pose for the camera, sway your hips while your dancers match your cute little moves. You’re exhausted, almost done with your set at Coachella, but the flaming energy of the crowd keeps you going. 

   You spin around, pop your hip out and wave flirtatiously to Joel at the end of the stairs on the side stage. He shakes his head, chuckling to himself while he tries to act professional. That’s what bodyguards do, right? Stay professional? And he did, he really did, but you liked to tease him just a bit sometimes, get him all riled up if you could. 

   You see the smug smirk he tries to hide behind that patchy, greying scruff, watch the way those gorgeous honey flecked eyes scan your body. He can try to be coy all he wants, but you’ll call him on his bluff. The man is attracted to you, just like you are to him. But you can’t help it, he’s drop dead gorgeous. The way his grey threaded dark curls catch the sun rays, his ripped muscles cling to the flannels and tight t-shirts he wears on a daily basis, his corded veins spiral down his tanned arms, the way he towers over you every time he stands next to you, his deep Southern drawl that sends you into heat every time he graces you with that thick honey-like voice, and the way he’s so protective over you. But you also can’t forget that he's twice your age, which makes him even hotter. 

   You shouldn’t want it, want him, but you do. God, you do. At night when you’re in between your silky sheets with your fingers rubbing between your legs, you’re thinking of him. Those big, meaty hands, that rough tongue, his deep, gravelly voice that must sound so sweet filled with dirty words. You can’t help yourself, you want Joel Miller, your bodyguard. 

   He watches you strut the lit up stage, the sparkles on your pink dress catching the flecks of his wandering eyes. He thinks you look so gorgeous twirling around in that short tease of a dress. Every time you bend over or spin around, he can see those skimpy short shorts that barely cover the globes of your ass. You like the attention though, love to tease the crowd just like you’re teasing him now. 

   He sees the discrete winks you throw his way on the stage, the way you lick those plump, glossy lips that seem to call directly to him. You’re trying to get a reaction out of him. He knows you too well. You may be flirting with the starving crowd who begs for more, but you’re also flirting with him. And he can’t help but get drawn into those beautiful eyes of yours that glisten in the sunlight, can’t help the way his cock is straining against the zipper of his denim jeans right now, precum spilling over the tip thinking about thrusting between those pretty legs of yours. He wants you so fucking badly, and you have no idea.

   You twirl your curls flirtatiously around your finger, flipping your hair behind your shoulders while he watches from the corner of the stage, pretending like that’s his hand wrapped around your flowing locks. Another wink his way and he’s mush against the edge of the stage. Maybe you are trying to get a reaction out of him, you just love to tease him, but he loves it just the same. You’re nothing but a little troublemaker.

   He thinks about you all the time on those lonely nights on long tours, when he’s under his pristine sheets that graze against his hardening cock. He whispers your name under his breath when he’s stroking himself, pretending his hand is yours gliding over him, spreading precum with your soft hands, your pretty mouth. And when he cums he thinks of your glittering eyes, imagines you encouraging him on while he spills hot ropes of cum all over his soft tummy. 

   He may feel a little guilty after doing that, those dirty thoughts that swirl in his head night after night, but there’s no way in hell he feels bad about doing it. He’d have you every day if it was up to him. Oh, yes. He’d ravage your body till you had nothing left to give but your own breath that blows gently against his hungry lips. Damned if he does, and damned if he doesn’t. Either way he’s completely fucked. 

   The end of your routine is drawing close, the last number halfway over while the sun kisses your tanned skin. He knows you’re tired, can see it in the sweat that glistens like diamonds down your dainty arms. He’d go and scoop you up in his arms, let you wrap your own around his neck while he carried you to safety, away from prying vultures in the crowd, but he knows paparazzi would snap those pictures in a heartbeat and cause a scene in the tabloids. The pop princess and bodyguard have a scandalous affair at Coachella together. He scoffs at the thought. Fucking idiots starving for a shiny penny to add to their useless names. 

   The moment you sing your last line, you wave to the crowd and blow kisses to the rowdy audience. “Thank you, Coachella! See you next year!” They chant your name, begging for one more song, but your time is up. So you exit the stage all smiles with glitter falling to the ground, keeping your glow until you get to the edge of the stage. 

   Joel’s right there waiting for you, a water bottle and small towel in hand, just like he always does. He looks so good in his tight black t-shirt, sleeves pulling at his bulging biceps while his dark jeans hug his meaty thighs tightly. He always looks so good that you feel dizzy when he takes your hand and helps you down the stairs and off the buzzing stage. 

   Your breath catches in your throat when he closes his thick, calloused fingers over yours, his honey eyes bright and alert when he hands you the water bottle and dabs your sweaty forehead with the soft towel. You could melt into a puddle right here and now the way he’s looking at you all protective and warm-like. 

   “You really gave them a show today, darlin’,” he drawls as his dark flecks of warmth serenade you with attention.

   “Yeah, you think so?” 

   “Mhm,” he hums, staying attentive to you while he watches you take a sip of water. 

   “Did I give you a show, too?” you ask all flirtatiously, batting your long eyelashes up at him as you slide your tongue slowly over your glossy lips, licking off a droplet of water. 

   His cheeks grow red, eyebrows fusing together as he shakes his head and runs a large hand slowly through those messy curls you so want to run your own fingers through. “C’mon, trouble. Let’s jus’ get you back to the trailer.” He grabs your elbow and drags you through the winding backstage area, dodging cords and other performers that stand in your way.

   You follow next to him, quick to stay on his trail while fans scream from the right behind barricades when they see you. Joel pushes you to the left, lingering his large hands on you just a few seconds too long while he works to keep you safe. You know it’s his job, but it turns you on at the sight of him watching out for you, keeping a hand firmly on your arm, making sure no one else touches you but him. 

   Maybe it’s a lovesick fantasy, a fever dream that you and Joel could be more than this. More than just a bodyguard who’s just doing his job to watch out for you. You feel it, that sexual chemistry when you’re near each other, even in a large crowd that won’t stop screaming your name, demanding pictures and autographs while he pushes them away from your reach. You feel it in his heated stare, the brush of his calloused fingertips on your tanned skin, the devilish smirk he gives you when you tease him or say something you shouldn’t. You know he feels it, too. He has to. He’s just as delusional and lovesick as you. You see it in the glow of those amber eyes. He knows.

   “So, you have a free night tonight, huh?” you ask as you keep your fingers curled around the soft fabric of his t-shirt. 

   “Sure, if you call keepin’ you out of trouble free time,” he chuckles, his brown eyes gazing back toward you, just enough to paint streaks of dark pink over your already blush caked cheeks. 

   “Me, trouble? Never,” you tease while you flash him a bright smile. 

   “Oh, you’re trouble alright. But you’re not the one I’m worried about. These Coachella fans can get pretty intense. I’d jus’ feel better if I was watchin’ out for you is all.”

   “You don’t want a night off though?”

   He looks back toward you and knits his eyebrows together, concern lathered all in those brown doe eyes of his. It makes you weak in the knees. “I’m alright. Besides, you’re not bad company to have.” He nudges you with his elbow and winks your way, completely knocking the breath from you. 

   Did Joel Miller just say you were good company? A quiet, reserved guy like him likes your company? The one that would rather grab a drink at the bar alone and sit in silence with a good book while no one bothers him? Guess you did have an affect on him afterall. 

   “Not bad company?” you giggle as you push against his shoulder. 

   “Not bad at all, darlin’. You’re jus’ the kind I need,” he says with a hidden smirk under that salt-and-pepper scruff you want to drag your fingers through. Yeah, you’re just what he needs.

   Suddenly, a screaming fan comes from your left, some psycho that escaped through the wrought iron fence who stomps your way. He charges over to you, calling your name as his spindly fingers close over your arm, his other hand clawing at your pink sparkly dress. “Let me take a picture, please! I love you, I drove hours just to see you sing. Please!”

   Joel rips the guy's hands off your body, pinning his hands behind his back against a caged off area while you fight to catch your breath. Your heart thunders in your chest watching Joel being so protective, possessive over you while the fan begs for mercy against Joel’s tight grip. 

   “Keep your fuckin’ filthy hands off of her! She’s not a toy you can just grab and demand things from. She didn’t give you permission, didn’t ask for you to claw at her dress. So I suggest you walk back out to the general admission area and stay the fuck away from her. Understood?!” His voice sounds like crackling thunder, that deep rugged breath towering over the cowering fan as he makes red marks over the fan’s useless wrists. Joel was just doing his job, one he was damn good at. But he made it look so sexy. 

   You stare in amazement, blinking through your thick lashes while you watch Joel shove the crazed fan through the fence, warning him to keep his distance or else he’ll wish he never stepped foot into the music festival. You gawk at him, watching the way his muscles flex underneath his t-shirt, watching the scowl across his mouth darken his menacing eyes. He’s a dominant wolf protecting his pack, and his pack is you. 

   You watch his flared nostrils and harsh eyes soften when he turns and looks at you, one of his large hands coming to clasp around your wrist while he assesses your wide-eyed features. “You okay?”

   You nod your head slowly, keeping your gaze on him as he makes sure you’re alright. “Really, I’m fine, Joel. Thank you.”

   Before he can manage a reply back to you, blinding cameras start flashing before your eyes, paparazzi swarming you as they just assessed the scene. They throw questions at you, screaming your name while you try to drown out their echoing voices. 

   You stick like glue to Joel’s side, latching your arms around his strong torso while you hide your face in his t-shirt beneath his shoulder. Joel wraps a protective arm around your back and guides you to safety. 

   “Get back! She ain’t answerin’ questions right now, she jus’ got off the stage. Leave her alone!” His deep voice hounds them, barking strict orders for them to stay back. 

   You’re so thankful for Joel right now, your knight in shining armor steering you to safety. The blinding lights start to slowly fade away, the reaching hands and firm demands slipping away once you enter the safe vicinity of your tour trailer. 

   Joel unfolds you from his safe grasp, turns you around and places one hand gently under your chin as if to say it’s okay, baby girl. They’re gone. He scans your frightened eyes, but you melt into a relaxed state when he looks at you with those concerned honey eyes that swallow you whole. 

   “You sure you’re alright?” he asks with eyebrows furrowed together in a panicked state. 

   “I am now. Thanks for saving me. You’re my hero,” you smile as he lets out a sigh of relief and shakes his head. 

   “Jus’ doin’ my job, sweetheart. Can’t help it that everyone wants a piece of you. Gotta protect the shining star,” he winks, nearly sending you over the edge of the steps to your trailer. 

   “Well, you’re pretty great at your job, Miller. Best bodyguard ever,” you flirt as you poke him playfully in the chest. 

   “Alright, little pop star. Why don’t you go relax for a bit? I’ll be out here, be sure to fight off any more paparazzi parasites,” he smiles while he watches you twist the handle and enter your safe haven. 

   “Joel?” you call before you close the door. 

   “Hmm?” he asks as he twists around and faces you with gentle brown eyes. 

   “Go easy on them.”

   He just rolls his eyes and shakes his tousled curls off his sweaty forehead. “Sure thing, darlin’. Alright now, go on. Get in there,” he instructs as he nods to your room. 

   You huff out and slump your shoulders, pretending like it’s the biggest chore in the world. He ticks his jaw and raises an eyebrow at you that tells you he’s not messing around, so you fully oblige his request. “Alright, alright. I’m going,” you sigh. 

   “Attagirl,” he chuckles. 

   Your cheeks burn red as he leaves you with the hottest word before you close the door with a jolt. Attagirl. The word rushes through you, straight to your core where you feel a bit of slick build against your sticky lace. How can a man get you turned on with just one word? Well, it’s Joel Miller, and the man can make you wet with the wink of those pretty brown eyes, but Attagirl was next level. It was borderline porn to your ears. 

   When you hear the click of the door close you take a second to breathe, leaning up against the sealed door while you flick the lights on and try to calm your racing nerves. You assess your pristine room, taking in the white walls hung with pink fairy lights. The glow from your vanity mirror lights up the little corner where your sparkly makeup sits neatly together. The pink velvet sectional sits up against the middle of the wall where a picture of Marilyn Monroe hangs right above that. Soft pink colors cover the room, and you feel suddenly at ease in the protection of your trailer. 

   You meander toward the vanity mirror, assessing your perfect makeup that still stays intact on your glowing face. The sparkling pink eyeshadow mixes in with the sharp wings of black eyeliner that frames your soft eyes. Shimmery pink lip gloss coats your plump lips, and the blush stands out against your tanned skin. Your spiral curls flow gently over your shoulders, and your sparkly dress hugs all your curves in the right places. 

   You suddenly want to be free of your costume, wanting to throw on a pair of cutoff jean shorts and an oversized t-shirt. When you turn your back to the mirror and try to unzip your dress, it gets stuck just a couple inches from the top. 

   “Oh, come on. Work with me.” You fight the zipper again, tugging with all your might until you grit your teeth together and curse under your breath. This is not what you need right now. You want out of this dress, out of these high heels, out of these smothering tights. 

   You stomp your heel into the plush carpet, folding your arms across your cleavage as you decipher just what to do. Lacy, your assistant, is tied up in important meetings for the rest of the afternoon. She’s nowhere near your little trailer. Your makeup artist is busy helping other performers, so you have no other options. Joel is the only one…

   You gulp, take a long look at your flushed cheeks just thinking of having Joel Miller unzip your dress. It’s harmless, really, but not if he’s doing it. That would only lead to one thing. Giving into pure desire, temptation, need. 

   “Fuck it,” you whisper to yourself, “if a show is what he wants, then a show is what he’ll get.”

   You tiptoe to the door, hovering your hand over the handle as you take a deep breath and breathe in and out slowly. It’s just a zipper, only a zipper. He could always say no, leave you stranded while you’re stuck in your dress the entire evening. He wouldn’t do that though, leave you helpless while you fight to rip the tight dress off your body. He just wouldn’t allow that. No way. 

   You take one more deep breath and open the door slowly, slipping your head out as you see Joel standing at the bottom of your trailer steps. You clear your throat and watch him turn his head quickly in your direction, leaving his guard wide open as he assesses your distressed face. “Umm, Joel. Can you do me a favor?”

   His eyebrows knit together while his eyes glaze over your body. “What is it, darlin’?” His doe eyes lean into yours, and you can barely muster up any words while he looks at you like that, all caring and deep. 

   “Well, my zipper got stuck in the back, and I can’t get it down. Do you think you can help?” you ask shyly, your eyes looking up nervously through your long lashes. 

   “Uhh, where’s Lacy? I can go grab her, let her help ya out.”

   “No!” You reach out an arm and grab his wrist tightly, watching his brown eyes widen at your sudden contact on his tanned skin. 

   “No?” he asks confused, his breath picking up underneath his dark t-shirt. 

   “I mean, she’s in meetings for the rest of the afternoon. She’s nowhere near the trailer. And I’m awfully uncomfortable in this tight dress. Do you think you can just come in really quick and help?”

   He gulps down a breath, his heartbeat picking up incredibly fast while he looks into your gorgeous eyes. How can he say no to that? He can’t, so he won’t. He rakes a hand slowly through his greying scruff and nods your way. 

   “‘Course I’ll help, sweetheart. C’mon then.” He places a hand gently on your lower back and leads you into the glowing lights of the trailer, letting the door close with a bang as he guides you to the middle of the room. 

   “Turn around for me, sweetheart,” he asks nicely as you oblige and turn your back toward him. 

   He looks at your undone zipper, sees where it’s stuck in the pink fabric of the dress. Of course he’d be the only one around to help you, of all things a fucking stuck zipper on you. He has no resistance when it comes to you, he just can’t say no to that pretty face of yours. 

   “Zipper’s jus’ caught in the fabric. Should just take a little tugging,” he says with gritted teeth, pulling on the zipper while he holds the silky fabric tight with his other hand. 

   After a few seconds of fighting the dress, he gets it free of the catching fabric. He slowly unzips the back of your sparkling dress, going ever so slowly as if not to make a single sound. The only sounds he hears are your quick breaths, the beating of his own racing heart, and the noise of tugging you free of the suffocating, tight dress. 

   He watches it stop at the end of your curvy hips, catching the way your skin seems to shimmer as your flawless skin comes into his line of vision. He sees the way the dress falls open in the back, your skin begging to be touched, to be stroked as it beckons him closer and closer until he’s hovering above your hot skin. 

   He knows he shouldn’t linger, shouldn’t hover over the glow of your exposed skin, but it’s almost sinful not to touch you when the glitter of your undertones calls directly to him. He gives in, stealing just a touch as he rubs his fingers slowly down your spine. 

   You squirm beneath his touch, tingling sensations running wildly down your skin with each touch he takes from you. You ravish in it, holding your breath while he takes his time dipping across the curve of your back. 

   He leans into you, ghosting his lips across your neckline while he breathes you in deep. He smells the vanilla scent of your perfume, lilac breezing through your soft curls, and can even smell the cherry flavor of your glittery lip gloss. You must taste so good, he can already feel your soft lips against his while he takes his other hand and moves your curls over the left side of your shoulder. 

   You turn your head back gradually, exposing the veins in your slender neck while it gives him access to dip his lips against the curve of your neck. “Joel,” you whisper out, your insides shaking as the hand on your back sinks down to the curve of your hip. 

   He can’t respond, too lost in your delicious scent while his hand dances against the silk of your tempting skin. He’s a bad man, putting himself in this vulnerable position where he’s alone with you, with your zipper completely down and your dress barely holding itself against your perfect body. 

   He should go back outside, stay away from your midnight eyes, your luscious locks, your sweet smelling perfume, but he can’t. He just can’t. He’d rather die than to leave you alone now, untouched, not taken care of. He’s your bodyguard, he’s paid to take care of you. So he will, in every way that he can. He’ll have his way with you. If your zipper can be fixed then who's to say that ache between your legs can’t, too? 

   He spins you around, your chest pressed flush against his while he slowly backs you up against the wall, caging you in with his strong arms while he breathes in your sweet vanilla scent that drives him wild. He sees the cleavage practically spilling from the top of your undone dress, wants to fucking rip it to shreds until there’s nothing left but your glowing skin under the tips of his pressing fingers. 

   He takes a hand and pushes back a strand of curls behind your ear, lingering his thick fingers along your jawline while you breathe in the woodsy mahogany smell, his expensive cologne that you could lather yourself in just to smell like him. He’s so close that he could lean down and press his lips to yours, so close that you could twist your fingers through those lush curls that you so desperately want to meld your fingers to. 

   You’ve never been this close to him before, to where you can see just how pretty and clear his brown flecked eyes are. You’re driving yourself into dangerous territory, but you don’t care. No one’s here to stop you from making any mistakes, and Joel is not a mistake.

   He hovers over you, dragging his lips against your jawline and stopping at the shell of your ear, lingering there while his meaty hands dig into the curve of your hips. “We shouldn’t… I shouldn’t,” he says with gritted teeth, painfully dragging out the words while he tickles the shell of your ear with his plush lips. 

   “Why not?” you whine pathetically as you place a hand under his shirt, making him jump while you graze over the happy trail that leads underneath his jeans. It makes a deep groan slip from his throat. 

   “I’m twice your age. You jus’ turned twenty-five, I’m pushing forty-five. I’m your bodyguard. I should be more respectful, shouldn’t give in to a pretty thing like you,” he murmurs as he feels his cock hardening beneath the denim of his jeans. 

   “I don’t care that you’re older or that you’re my bodyguard,” you mumble as your fingers tug the leather belt free from his jeans. 

   He groans, licking the edge of your ear while he fights to find an ounce of control in his desperate body. He finds none. “We shouldn’t, darlin’. It’d be irresponsible on my part. What if the paparazzi found out? They’d turn the headlines into a hell of a mess. Hell, your publicist would kill me,” he says defeatedly while his hands stay glued to your hips. 

   “I don’t care what my publicist says, I don’t care about the paparazzi. I know what I want, Joel. I know you want it, too. Just as much as I do.”

   He groans against you, doing his best to resist you, but he can’t. He’s a weak man for you, and he’ll give in with the snap of your fingers. He’s got no fight left in him, he’s all yours. “Are you sure, sweetheart? You want this? Want me?”

   You grip tighter to his jeans, dragging his hips flush against yours as you feel the swell of his cock through the denim. He’s so fucking big, and you haven’t even seen him yet. “Yes, Joel. Please. Want you, only you,” you stifle out a moan as his lips trail against your neck, gently nipping and sucking against your sensitive areas while his hands ghost over the curve of your breasts. 

   “God, I can’t say no to you, gorgeous. You don’t even know what you do to me every time I see you up on that stage, singin’ with that angelic voice of yours, dancin’ around all flirtatiously while you make me so fuckin’ hard beneath my jeans.”

   You groan at his filthy words, letting him spread your legs while one of his parts your legs wider. One hand trailing up your inner thigh while his other slowly pulls against the top of your pink dress. “You don’t know how badly I’ve wanted to do this for so long, how much I’ve wanted to press my face between those thick thighs of yours,” he groans as he trails his lips against the cleavage of your dress. 

   “Probably just as long as I’ve wanted you to,” you pant out as he tugs at the hem of your dress. 

   “Yeah, s’that right?” he teases, dragging his teeth lower down your breasts. 

   “Mhm. Joel, fuck. Taste me, touch me, fuck me,” you beg as you wrap your arms around his neck. 

   “Fuck you, hmm? That what you want?” he teases while he slowly pulls your dress free, hearing it drop to the floor when all you’re left in is your shorts and tights. 

   “Yes, please. Want you, need you to touch me. Do it, Joel. Please,” you whine, twisting your fingers around the curls around the base of his neck.

   He chuckles out, sucking in a breath as he fully obliges your request. “Alright, pretty pop star. If that’s what you want, how can I say no to you?”

   He leaves you with no warning, cupping one breast in his large palm while he sucks on your other one, running his tongue in circles until your nipples are pebbled and swollen beneath his tongue, his mouth, his hands. He does the same to the other one, languidly sliding his tongue over the pebbled bud while he massages your breasts with his calloused fingers. 

   He bathes in your moans, making certain to get you all worked up where he knows you’re already soaking beneath your panties. That’s where he wants you wet, begging for him to touch you. 

   “Joel,” you whine, feeling his fingers fall free from your pebbled breasts. 

   “I know, baby. I know. Don’t worry, gonna take care of my girl.”

   Before you can speak, he cups your face and sinks his plush lips against the gloss of yours, melding his mouth to yours while he tastes the cherry flavor of your lip gloss. You part your lips for him, inviting him in as you feel him lick feverishly into your mouth. Your tongues dance together in unison, allowing him to tangle his with yours while he revels in your pretty moans against his hungry mouth. He’s starving for you, absolutely famished while he takes and takes from you, letting his tongue explore the entirety of your open mouth. If you taste this good, just think how absolutely divine you must be between your legs.

   His hands roam down to your shorts, slipping his fingers inside the waistband and tugging them free of your skin. You step out of your high heels, kick the pink shorts aside and allow his mouth to break free of yours. You pant tirelessly, watching him kneel between your legs as he starts to run his fingers up and down your thighs. 

   He looks up at you, his eyes becoming dark pits that consume him whole. He’s feral for you, and he won’t stop till he has every last drop from you. “You have another pair of these?” he asks, nodding to your tights. 

   “I’ve got a million pairs,” you say out of breath. 

   He smirks up at you before he tears into the flesh of your tights, ripping them to shreds while one of his large hands meets the lace of your panties. “What about these, hmm? Gonna miss these?”

   You shake your head, unable to get a word out as you swallow a whine in the back of your throat. “No?” he asks all deep and gravelly while his thumb traces against the edge of your lace, sliding down to put some pressure between your drenched lips. 

   You throw your head back and whine, begging him to continue on. “No, Joel. Just take them off, please. Need you,” you breathe out desperately. 

   “That’s all you had to say, sweetheart.” He takes no time, ripping into the seam of your panties as you watch him split them in half, throwing them in a pile on the floor while his eyes blow wide when he takes in the bare sight of you. 

   He groans to himself, dragging a finger through your wet arousal, parting you in the middle as he hears the sloshing sounds come from his thumb spreading the wetness all across your dripping core. He inhales you, reveling in the pretty noises you make while he takes his time exploring you, gathering the slick on his calloused fingers as he burns the sight of your messy pussy in the back of his brain. 

   “Shit, baby. Already so fuckin’ wet for me. This what I do to you, hmm? You always this wet around me?”

   “Mhm,” you moan, feeling his fingers pull you apart as more slick pools between your thighs. 

   “All this for me, goddamn. Ain’t I jus’ the luckiest man alive.” He licks a thick stripe up your core, dragging his tongue to lap up the slick that spills from your insides, making you pant out with need as he makes you come undone. “Don’t worry, baby. Gonna take real good care of this pretty pink pussy. Just sit back, relax, and let me do all the work.”

   He doesn’t even give you a chance to breathe, he just dives right in. He takes the flat of his tongue and strokes your folds, working you up and down while he soaks in the sweet taste of you. He hooks one of your pliant legs over his shoulder while you fight to not break already. 

   He drags his nose through the curls above your mound, sucking your swollen clit into his mouth while he breathes in the sensational musk of your pussy, drinking down your sticky arousal that makes his taste buds come to life. He’s never tasted a pussy this sweet before in his life, never quite experienced the high of such an intoxicating body before. He’s wanted you for so long now, and he never even imagined it’d be this good before. 

   “Joel,” you moan above him, wrapping your delicate fingers through his messy curls, driving out a deep groan from him by the way you cling to him. He loves the feel of you in his hair, pulling and tugging while you bite your lower lip and moan his name over and over again. It’s like an addictive drug he’s prescribed to, and he needs more, wants more of you. 

   He slips two digits into your drenched hole, filling you so full while his thick fingers curl and hit that spongy area that makes you see bright lights flash before your eyes. He revels in your moans, eliciting more with every touch and curl of his fingers, with every feverish lick to your messy center. 

   “Yeah? You like that, baby? Feel good?” Joel purrs while he watches you fall apart beneath his fingers. 

   “So good, Joel. Want you to - ahhh,” you whine as he pulls your aching bundle of nerves back into his warm mouth, releasing it with a pop as more slick covers his knuckles. 

   “Mmm, s’that right, sweetheart? Gonna cum for me? C’mon baby girl, go on and soak me,” he purrs. 

   You feel the white hot sensation taking over, feel his long fingers curl up to hit that spot again and again while he pulls your aching clit back into his mouth. And it feels so fucking good that you just can’t hold on any longer. “Joel, I’m gonna… fuck, I’m coming,” you whine as you release your pent up energy, soaking his knuckles while he works you nice and slow, licking at your core as the slick builds on his tongue, drinking you down till he soothes that aching need in his throat. 

   You come down slowly, feeling your body go through the tingling sensations that make you feel so alive. You’ve never had it this good before, not before Joel. He’s going to be the end of your demise. 

   You look down at him between your legs, fingers still curled inside your core while he slowly drags them out of you with a groan from your lips. He pops the digits into his mouth, sucking the sweet release while he moans your name. He looks fucking wrecked, his hair all tousled and messy, wide eyes blown out to black pits that want to devour you whole. The way he’s looking at you makes you think he’s not done with you, and he’s not. Oh no, he’s just getting started. 

   “Such a good girl for me,” he purrs, sliding his calloused fingers up to your hips while he unhooks your leg from his shoulder. “I’m not done with you yet, baby. Now, c’mere.”

   He throws you over his shoulder, a surprised gasp coming from your lips as he takes you over to the velvet couch. He drops you on your hands and knees, not giving you a moment to breathe while he situates himself behind you and spreads your legs wide. 

   He takes a few seconds to admire your glistening core, sitting back on his heels as he rakes a hand slowly over his greying scruff, taking in the absolute beauty that sits before him. He’s never seen a sight like this that he goes head over heels for, sliding his tongue between his teeth as he whispers how fucking perfect you are.

   He groans your name, dragging his thumb up and down your sticky folds while one hand spreads your cheeks wide. He says your name repeatedly, taking in the sight of you in front of him. He thinks you’re so fucking pretty, all messy and dripping just for him. He wants to just slip your scent, your taste into his own cologne, mix the two together until he can only smell you on his body. 

   He licks at your core, spreading you wide while he devours you whole. He pulls at your glistening clit, languidly circling the swollen bud that calls sinfully to him. He wants to give you all the orgasms, drink you down till you have nothing left to give, curl his fingers inside your heated core, work you over till the only thing you can say is his name through your pretty moans. 

   He thrives in the musk of you, the taste of your cherry lips, the sweet saltiness of your warm cum. If he could give it a name, he’d call you his special jasmine flower, known to be the sweetest, most fragrant flower in the world. That’s what you are to him. The rarest flower that ever came into his reach, his life. 

   He licks against your slick folds, working his fingers in and out of your delicious cunt, slurping on your sensitive mound while he drowns it in his own drool, lusting after you until you writhe beneath him and give him another mind blowing orgasm. 

   “Joel, I’m coming, I’m coming,” you cry, spilling yourself all over his digits and inside his heated mouth. He can’t reply, too busy drinking you down as he groans good girl through the taste of you on his large tongue. 

   He swallows all the slick between your thighs, holding you up together while your legs shake uncontrollably. You may have fallen apart on his tongue twice, but he still wants more. He’s greedy like that when something belongs to him. You’re his as far as he’s concerned now, and he always takes care of what’s his. 

   “Joel, wanna… wanna…” you stutter tirelessly, out of breath from the insane orgasm he pulled from your body. 

   “What do ya need, sweetheart? Use your words,” he coaxes, placing a hand gently at the small of your back as he strokes small circles into the heat of your skin.

   “Your cock. Let me suck your cock, make you feel good, too,” you whine out, grinding your teeth together as he gently blows on your aching core. 

   “Not this time, baby. Later. Gotta take care of you first. This time I wanna have my way with you, want your cum dripping down my tongue, making my cock all messy from your sweet release. Wanna bottle you up and make you my own personal brand of whiskey,” he growls as he pulls his t-shirt over his head and frantically slides his jeans and boxers over his feet, disposing the sweaty material on the ground. 

   He hisses as he spreads the precum over his shaft, pumping himself a couple times before he grabs your hips and scoots you back, stifling a moan from your mouth as he plunges his massive cock into your throbbing pussy. 

   “Oh, shit. Joel,” you whine, filling the room with your sweet incantations while he fills you so full of him. 

   “Yeah? You like that, dirty girl? Takin’ this cock so good, squeezin’ me so fuckin’ tight,” he growls, pulling your hair back as your head snaps up, his mouth meeting yours as he licks feverishly inside, swallowing your moans while he continues his frantic thrusts into your weeping pussy. 

   He pulls out from you, throwing you on your back while he hooks your legs over his shoulders, rutting back inside you as his cock gets covered in your sticky slick. You throw your arms around his neck while he finds your mouth again, licking inside, moaning your name on the tip of his tongue as he speeds up his thrusts inside you. 

   The sounds are obscene, the wet smacking noises of his hard cock drilling inside your drenched pussy reverberating off the glow of the pristine walls. He releases his mouth from yours, leaning back to take in the gorgeous view that’s you. You’re splayed all over the couch, your perky breasts bouncing up and down with every thrust of his cock, your eyes all glossed over and fucked out while he takes you nice and slow. He thinks you’re a vision, a full on masterpiece that deserves to be displayed in an art gallery, your mouth making that pretty O shape while you chant his name angelically. 

   “Know you’re close, baby. Squeezin’ me so tight, feels so good,” he moans through the grit of his teeth. 

   “Joel, I’m gonna… gonna… fuck,” you whine as you feel that all too familiar white hot sensation rush through your entire body. 

   “Oh yeah, baby. That’s it. Such a good fuckin’ girl. Go on now, soak this cock,” he coaxes. 

   He watches you fall apart beneath him, beautiful, glossy eyes rolling back as you drag your manicured nails down his back, giving him the prettiest moans as you clench around him and release your cum all down his quivering cock. 

   “Good girl,” he praises, talking you through your intense orgasm as he quickens the strokes inside you, reaching heights you never could without him, kissing your cervix with the tip of his cock. It feels so fucking good, and you just gave him the best three orgasms of your life. You’re exhausted, but you need him to finish. You need him inside you. 

   Sweat drips off his forehead, ending in his tousled curls as he bares his teeth, barely able to hold on any longer. “Baby, I’m about to cum. I can’t hold on much longer. Where do you want me, sweetheart? Where do you want me to spill?”

   “Inside Joel, paint me white inside. Cum inside my pussy, please,” you beg. 

   He moans as he calls your name, giving you a couple more thrusts before he paints the insides of your thighs white with hot ropes of cum, throwing his head back as he revels in the ecstasy of filling you up with his seed, claiming you as his own. 

   He pulls out and twists you around, collapsing on his back against the velvet couch while you fall into his chest, his meaty hands holding you tight around the waist while you both come down from your intense orgasmic high. The room smells like sex and sweat, hints of vanilla and cherry flavored lips lingering around the room. It smells like heaven, Joel’s heaven. 

   Through the sounds of rushed breaths and tired bodies, he reaches up and hooks a strand of loose hair behind your ear, lingering his calloused fingers against your jawline while he assesses the beautiful starlights in your eyes. He thinks you’re the most gorgeous girl he’s ever laid eyes on, and now you’re all his. 

   You look at him just the same, memorizing the flecks of dark honey that make up his bright eyes, dragging your fingertips through his salt-and-pepper scruff, letting your other hand glide through his messy tousled curls. He may be your bodyguard who works for you, but now he’s so much more than that. He’s yours, and you’ll never let him go now. 

   “Still think this was a bad idea?” you ask with a raised brow, challenging him to say anything but yes. 

   “Too late for asking me that, sweetheart. I changed my mind. You’re jus’ what I needed,” he smiles, the flecks of his eyes shimmering amber as your own eyes sparkle with bliss. 

   “Glad you came around,” you giggle as he drags his fingers up and down your jawline softly. 

   “All ‘cause of a fuckin’ broken zipper. You know I can’t stop now, sweetheart? One taste of you and now I’m hooked. Afraid I can’t let you go now.”

   You lean into his chest, giving him your best dreamy smile as you trace the ends of a tousled greying curl. “Then don’t. Be mine, Joel.”

   “I’m all yours, sweetheart. All yours,” he whispers before he cups your face and brings your head down, meeting the plush of his lips as he kisses you nice and slow. 

   You melt into him, parting your lips so he can slot his way in, tangling his tongue with yours as you taste yourself in his mouth. You stay like that for minutes, getting lost in his soft touch, his musk, his dreamy eyes. You never want to leave this trailer, never want to be parted from Joel. The only question is, how will you ever be able to keep your hands off him in public? 

   You lean your head into the crevice of his neck, nestling up to his soft scruff that smells like him. You sigh and tangle your fingers with his while he holds you close to his side. “Guess we won’t see any more performances tonight?” 

   “I don’t know, baby,” he chuckles underneath you. “Think we need a shower and some food. Maybe take you for round two afterwards. But it’s up to you. We can either stay here or go watch more of the sets tonight. Whatever you want.”

   You think it over, but ultimately decide on his first offer. “Mmm, I think I’ll go with the first pick. Rather be here with you, in your arms, where it feels right.”

   He sighs, lingering a soft kiss on your cheek as he pushes back a falling curl. “Okay, beautiful. That’s what we’ll do then. You want pepperoni pizza? That’s your favorite, right?”

   “Mhm,” you nod. “Sounds perfect.”

   He chuckles, the chocolate flecks glistening in his pretty eyes. He looks so dreamy, almost unreal that he's underneath you, his skin glowing from the sight of you. “I’ve wanted you for so long, sweetheart. Can’t believe this is actually happening.”

   “I feel the same, Joel. Thought you might’ve caught on sooner with all the flirting I’ve been doing, especially up on stage. I might love getting a crowd pumped up, but there’s nothing more I love than making you blush at the side of the stage.”

   He tips his head back and laughs, his voice all deep and gravelly as he flicks his eyes back to you. “Oh, I caught on, darlin’. Figured you were tryin’ to get a reaction out of me, and you did. Now look at us,” he teases, cupping your chin with the palm of his large hand, causing tingles to run down your spine. 

   “Yeah, just look at us. A pop star and a bodyguard getting off on each other. Thought it’d only happen in my dreams,” you sigh, propping yourself up with your elbow on his sweat covered broad chest. 

   “Well, baby, it’s real. It happened. Reckon you’re mine now, yeah?”

   Your eyes perk up, a huge smile glistening across your shiny lips as you nod your head. “I’m all yours, Joel. As long as you’ll have me.”

   “Baby, I ain’t ever gonna let you go now. You’re all mine, and I’m gonna spend my days protectin’ and lovin’ this pretty pop star. That’s what you are, baby. You’re my shining star.”

   “And you’re my knight in shining bodyguard,” you giggle. 

   “Mhm, sure am, doll. And I don’t plan on ever lettin’ you go.”

   You fold back into his chest, pressing your lips hungrily against his. Eventually he carries you to the shower, helps wash off all the sweat and slick from earlier, until he takes you to your bed and makes love to you all over again. And it continues throughout the whole night, until both of you are passed out in each other's arms. 

   This is where you belong, in the arms of your fierce protector, your handsome bodyguard that you’re head over heels for. Your favorite brown eyed keeper. 

Tags: @laramc-02 @amyispxnk @sawymredfox @burntheedges @vivian-pascal

@littlevenicebitch69 @keylimebeag @msjarvis @akah565 @milla-frenchy

@aurorawritestoescape @alltheirdamn

[hawkinsbnbg]

Eddie who did all kinds of odd jobs for extra cash and ended up acting as a mascot for a football team.

He had to admit while he wasn't the biggest sports fan out there, the chaos and overflowing energy of the games made the blood run hot in his veins. The enthusiasm, the booming cheering and the loud music almost compensated for the stuffy red bird costume he had to squeeze into every couple of days.

The only saving grace was that Eddie always ran cold, so unlike some of his poor co-workers, he didn't sweat buckets during his shift, and he got to revel in the fun while being his dramatic and goofy self. He danced around people, teased them, joked with them, and posed for their photos.

One of many things that he enjoyed was the kiss cam. As much as Eddie tried to pretend otherwise, he was a romantic at heart, and seeing so many people having fun and being in love really made his day.

Sure there were awkward moments as well where family members were mistaken as couples, but it was just another thing to laugh at, just another tale to recall when they gathered around the table and had dinner together some days or some years later.

Perhaps, that was why when the big screen showed a pretty boy—and damn, Eddie could spend forever to wax lyrical about those pouty lips and doe eyes and perfect hair and handsome jawline. And Eddie wished he could trace those cute little moles with his tongue, to draw constellations on that golden skin and find the answers of the universe—who got ignored and then brushed off by his boyfriend despite his attempts to tell the guy they were on kiss cam, Eddie felt so offended on his pretty boy's behalf.

Without hesitation, Eddie stalked over to their row, took the popcorn from Pretty Boy and upended the whole box over the boyfriend's head just as the guy finally looked up from his stupid phone, relishing the cheers the other spectators gave him.

He then booed at the fuming bastard who looked two seconds away from blowing a casket, pulled Pretty Boy into his chest, and nearly bumped his fist into the air when Pretty Boy giggled and hooked their arms together.

He didn't think, really, he just signaled for Bob he had to go for a while and took Pretty Boy back to the staff room where he peeled off the mascot costume and finally revealed himself to Pretty Boy.

Eddie slightly regretted his impulsive decision because he wasn't looking his best right now; his hair was put up in a tight bun, his face was flushed and sticky with sweat. He only had on a black Metallica cut-off, a pair of sweat shorts for easy movements, his rings, and nothing else.

In contrast, Pretty Boy looked like a model walking right out of a magazine with his baby blue striped polo, washout jeans, RayBan perched on coifed chestnut hair, and worn sneakers.

"I'm Eddie," he introduced, panting a little because of the heat and the pace his heart was slamming against his ribcage. "I hope I'm not bothering you, pretty boy."

Smiling coyly, Pretty Boy leaned in his space and holy shit, Eddie had to swallow the pool of spit gather in his mouth when he detected the floral and fruity notes from Pretty Boy's cologne and body wash. This close, he could see how those hazel eyes dilated, how those plush lips parted just slightly, tempting him to take a taste.

"Hi Eddie," Pretty Boy said, glancing up at him through those pretty eyelashes. "I'm Steve. But you can always call me Stevie, sweetheart, baby, or pretty boy."

Eddie couldn't help but laugh at the cheekiness. God, they just met ten minutes ago but this boy was proving to be the death of him.

"Pretty baby, then," Eddie lifted his hand to brush Steve's cheekbone with the back of it, smiling fondly at the blush that crept up on the soft skin. He met Steve's gaze and raised a brow. "What do you think?"

"I think," Steve licked his lips, red and kissable. "I think you should kiss me."

That Eddie could do. He would happily listen to the sweet little noises Steve made for as long as Steve had him.

He told Steve as much and they ended up going back to his apartment where he showed Steve what it felt like to be his boy. His baby.

Some years later, Eddie made sure to kiss the daylight out of his boyfriend when they were caught by the kiss cam. He wanted to brag as loud as he could that he was the man who had bagged Steve Harrington.

And when someone booed at him for showing off, he flipped them a bird through the camera, making Steve giggle against him. He wouldn't have it any other way.

[wttcsms]

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖࣪ do it softly now, baby !!

ᝰ.ᐟ if there's one thing every celebrity needs to master, it's the art of the soft launch. building up the anticipation by teasing your fans, leaving little easter eggs that only the two of you could possibly pick up on, playing coy whenever questioned about your relationship status... looks like you and him could write the how-to guide on this art form. alternatively: a headcanon post on how the two of you soft launch your relationship. ( sfw + fem!reader )

featuring sae itoshi, shuto sendou, shouei barou, rensuke kunigami, yoichi isagi author's notes haikyuu version here!

౨ৎ SAE ITOSHI. you are: a 2x gold medalist for olympic figure skating. just like how sae is the jewel of japanese soccer, you're the star of japanese figure skating. no one quite understands the pressure of having to carry an entire sport, to represent an entire country, on your back — except for sae. you're known to be a very serious athlete; you rarely cheat on your diet, you keep up with a strict training regimen even during the off-season, and you've never been in a relationship ever. you're stunning, but a little bit scary. something about you just feels so out of reach — like, no normal human being could ever match your caliber. you posted: a mirror selfie. for once in your life, you actually look fairly casual; no elaborate skating costume or athleisure in sight. instead, you're sporting a re al jersey. normally, this wouldn't be enough to spark too much speculation. the team's world famous, after all. what really gets people talking is the fact that sae itoshi, who infamously doesn't run his own social media, can be seen liking all your instagram posts. (little do your followers know [but the extra nosy ones will be able to find out], he's the one behind the camera for some of your posts 🤭)

you can't hold back your laugh as you stare at the notification that just popped up on your screen. itoshisae just reacted 😍 to your story! itoshisae: Nice jersey you: thanks, my boyfriend got it for me xx itoshisae: Do your little fans know that? you: they will soon 🤭 "what's got you smiling so hard, love?" your hairstylist is respectful enough to not look over your shoulder to take a peek at your screen, but you still hold your phone close to your chest, catching the dopey grin on your face reflected on the vanity mirror. "something silly." you tell her, feeling the gentle vibration of your phone signaling that you've got another notification. out of curiosity, you look down, and your smile only grows wider. namesofficialfanpage just tagged you in a post! namesofficialfanpage [name] just posted this on her story!! do we know anyone on re al who isn't in a confirmed relationship yet?

౨ৎ SHUTO SENDOU. you are: japan's favorite actress, even though you've quickly moved on from starring in j-dramas to gracing the big screen in america. you're hollywood's current favorite leading lady, and you're known for being the romcom starlet. when interviewed on why you haven't been in any public relationships yet, you've stated, "i guess i'm so used to all these perfectly written male leads that real life romance is harder to enjoy. when i meet a man who sweeps me off my feet, i promise, you will all know about it." you posted: a photo dump from your trip back home to japan; the pictures start off fairly innocuous. there's you posing with petals from cherry blossom trees flowing by you, you wearing a traditional dress and visiting a shrine, scenic photos... but the last photo is you being carried bridal style by a mysterious pink-haired man. your head is thrown back in laughter, and he's looking down, strands of his hair falling in his face so your followers can't clearly see him. your caption is telling — he sweeps me off my feet 🤍

"shuto!" your laughter is uncontrollable, and you squeal as he picks you up, sneakily giving the thumbs up for the old grandmother you two ran into to take the photo. "put me down!" "no way. i'm never letting you go." he's staring down at you, his smile infectious, and you can't help but think you are in so much trouble. somehow, shuto sendou has given you a romance that's even better than the movies.

౨ৎ SHOUEI BAROU. you are: barou's sisters' babysitter. you're literally the girl next door, and growing up, barou actually walked you to and from school. from the minute he joined blue lock, you've always been cheering for him wholeheartedly. watching him perform at the u-20 game was a bit of a reality check for you; barou is going outgrow you and this whole neighborhood. you never realized your crush on him was returned until he comes back from that game, cheeks flushed, forcing himself to "man up" and look you in the eyes as he tells you he'd like to see you again, once he's allowed a free day from the blue lock facility. ever since his confession, you two have been together ever since, even during his pro days. he posted: a picture of when he returned home during the off-season of the pro league. barou's not known to be a cute and cuddly type of person, either on or off the field. this post humanizes him greatly in the eyes of everyone. it's a picture of his sisters playing with your hair and makeup. your eyes are shut so his youngest sister can messily apply eyeshadow to your eyelids, and she's blocking more than half your face from the frame. his caption has everyone wondering who you are, though. My favorite girls. — that's what he said.

"how do i look?" you bat your eyelashes (which are coated with nearly three thick, messily applied layers of clumpy mascara, applied by his youngest sister). your hair looks a mess, courtesy of his other sister. the tennis bracelet he got you for your anniversary stands out against the beaded friendship bracelets you've made with his sisters. even with unblended foundation and lipgloss from a children's toy set, barou still thinks he's the luckiest man alive right now. "beautiful." he leans down to plant a kiss on your lips, effectively coating his own lips in the tacky, glittery gloss. his sisters shriek when they see the display of affection, but they're giggling, too. they love you just as much as he loves you. "you're always beautiful."

౨ৎ RENSUKE KUNIGAMI. you are: a lifestyle influencer. everybody loves your attitude, they're obsessed with your routine, and they want to live your life. you're recognizable by your signature stack of bracelets that you rarely take off, probably because the stack roughly costs about the same as a nice house. who said those tiktok grwm's wouldn't pay off? he posted: a gym challenge video. kunigami's not too active on social media, but his management team wants him to start posting the occasional tiktok in order to generate more hype and interest in him. this challenge is him curling dumbbells, but he starts at the weight where you stopped. as hot as it is to watch a shirtless kunigami curl 110lbs per arm, the girlies online can't help but recognize that bracelet stack on the wrist of the faceless "gym buddy" kunigami is featuring in his video.

"c'mon, baby, i know you can do more than that." kunigami's massive arms are crossed against his chest, and that damn smirk of his would make you shoot a glare his way; if only every muscle in your body wasn't already preoccupied with not collapsing. your arms are shaking, and you shake your head, letting the dumbbells clang to the gym floor. "this is torture. you do this for fun?" you point to the rack of dumbbells. "gotta keep up with the strength training, baby. and after i'm done with this, we can do some cardio together." the look he sends your way lets you know that the cardio he has in mind is one that you won't want to quit.

౨ৎ YOICHI ISAGI. you are: a popular idol, but in this country and this day and age, it's hard for some hardcore fans to understand that you would want your own life. frightened of how your fanbase will react, you beg isagi to let you keep your relationship a secret, at least until you're able to mentally prepare for the backlash. you've seen other girls in your group get ripped to shreds over dating rumors, and the last thing you want is to have your relationship with isagi being scrutinized by people who want to see you two break up. his friend accidentally posted: a video of you two. bachira genuinely means no harm! the video is quick, and you and isagi cuddled up together on the couch is barely seen for a millisecond until bachira flips the camera to his own face, with the caption "Thirdwheeling again 😔" your insane fans are quick to screenshot the one, singular frame you're barely visible in, but surprisingly enough, a majority of them are supportive of you being in a relationship.

"bachira, are you sure you're okay with me joining boys' night?" you're tucking your cold feet underneath isagi's body, and he's a good sport about it, so he doesn't complain. he actually pulls you closer to him, wanting no space to be between you two. he does correct you, though. "this was not a boys' night. bachira is lying. he invited himself over." bachira sticks his tongue out. "i can't hang out with my favorite people?" "you can hang out with us any time." you tell him, pleased that your boyfriend's friend actually likes you. no, he genuinely does like you. he's been streaming your latest single on repeat for the past two weeks since it released, to the point where his teammates are complaining about having to listen to it on the pregame playlist.

[sysig]

Sizing chart of cute: One Size Fits All (Patreon)

[confusionmeisss]

“𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫” 𝐠𝐟 - 𝐦. 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐨

🫧 matt sturniolo x fem!reader

🫧 in which you play dress to impress with matt during one of his solo streams

🫧 fluff

🫧 1.4k words.

🫧 hi lovelies!! thank u so much for reading! i was playing dress to impress and i was like just thinking like when i say im a gamer this is what i mean. i play the silly fun games. so i wanted to write matt with a girl like that as well. i hope u enjoy!!!! much love!! <3 masterlist

You sat on the bed, back against the headboard and one headphone in your ear watching Matt play Fortnite. It could honestly get a little boring, but Matt was cute to look at when he got upset, so you persevered.

“Oh, yeah she’s right over here,” you hear Matt say with a chuckle. You look up from your hand where you were peeling a piece of nail polish off your finger to see him leaning over looking at you.

“Hi,” He says with a grin.

“Hello. Weren’t you just playing Fortnite?”

“Mhm. But they asked about you,” he says, pointing his thumb to where the Twitch chat is on his screen.

“Ah,” you let out, getting up from the bed, you make your way over to Matt and sit yourself down on his lap.

“Hey y’all,” you say with a wave. “How is everyone? I hope you’re behaving yourselves.”

You feel Matt place his chin on your shoulder as you're reading through chat.

“‘Where did you get that shirt?’ Well, thank you for asking mattsbabygirl33, I found it in the depths of Nick's closet. Swear that kid has too many clothes,” you answer with a small laugh.

“‘Thoughts on cuddling?’ I love cuddles! Matt and I alternate between big and little spoon throughout the week!”

“Don’t tell,” Matt grumbles, burying his face into your neck. You reach a hand up to run it through his hair.

“Sorry love,” you laugh.

“I think as penance you have to finally give in and play a game on stream.”

“Can I at least pick the game?”

“‘Course,” Matt says, placing a kiss on your cheek.

You grin and lean forward, placing your hands on the mouse and keyboard.

“Don’t look, I want it to be a surprise!”

“Ok,” you hear Matt chuckle as you click around, before you start typing, then more clicking.

“Alright! You can look now!”

“What,” Matt asks slowly, “are we playing exactly?” He’s eying the block model on screen with confusion, and it makes you giggle.

“Dress To Impress! It’s a game on Roblox! I play it all the time when it’s real slow at work.”

“Okay. How do we play?”

“So, well right now we’re in intermission, but once that’s over we’ll be given a theme, and then we’ll have to dress up to the theme, and then we’ll model and vote, and see who ranks in the end. Then we do it over again.”

“Okay, sounds easy enough.”

You smile as you look at the screen noticing intermission is gonna be over in six seconds.

You eagerly lean forward, placing your hand on the keyboard. Grinning once you see the theme pop up.

𝐁𝐀𝐑𝐁𝐈𝐄

You got this in the bag. You practically grew up on Barbie.

You look over at Matt. “Ready?”

“Totally.”

You start moving your model around, making your way over to skirts to start off your look, going for the classic Barbie Life in the Dreamhouse. Once you’ve chosen your skirt and changed the color to fuchsia, you start looking for a top, then move on to shoes, before moving on to accessories.

“You have two minutes left!” Matt informs you.

“Oh trust me that’s plenty of time,” You respond, making your way towards the salon section to do hair and makeup.

“Which blonde looks better?” You ask Matt, switching between the two colors.

“Second one.”

You nod. “I was thinkin the same.”

You click the spacebar and watch your model hop out of the chair before you make your way over to the skin tone changer.

As soon as your model hops out, the screen goes black and states that voting is about to start.

The first model starts walking down the car walk and stops to pose and for you to vote.

“What the hell?” Matt says. “They’re not even on theme!”

“Yeah, that happens a lot,” You say with a sigh, keeping the vote on one star.

You and Matt vote and commentate on the next few outfits before it’s your turn.

“Oh, it’s us!” You clap happily. “Ok we have to pose,” you add after, moving the mouse toward the poses.

“I wanna pick,” Matt says, reaching over, making you move your hand.

“You gotta be quick with it.”

“Got it,” he says. You watch as he clicks through the poses, his tongue peeking out a little in concentration.

“Oh, our turns up!”

“We were the last to go, so now we see the top three winners.”

You both watch the screen change to announce the top three, the both of you hoping to be up on the podium somewhere.

“What the fuck!?” Matt exclaims, throwing his hands up, his brows furrowing. “None of them were even on theme!”

“As it happens,” you sigh, scrolling to see where you ended up ranking. Sixth place out of eight.

“I wanna play again,” Matt decides. “But I wanna dress the model this time.”

“Alright,” you agree easily. “We'll just have to wait in intermission before we’re given a new theme.”

You feel Matt nod as he rests his head back on your shoulder as you start to undress your model.

“‘This is why I can’t play this game, it’s just filled with nine year olds who don’t understand the theme’ Yeah, I feel you,” you respond to the chat. “That’s why I only really play when it’s slow at work, cause then I can’t publicly get too pissed.”

You’re reading through the chat, seeing if there’s anything else you wanna respond to when Matt taps your thigh.

“Eight seconds,” he mutters.

“Well, you’re dressing to impress this round, so get your hands ready mister.”

His hands snake around you to land on the keyboard and mouse and as soon as they land the next theme appears on screen.

𝐘𝟐𝐊

“Oh this should be so easy!” You gasp. “All you have to do is channel your inner Paris Hilton, Britney Spears, even Tarayummy!”

“You’ve got this,” you say, placing an encouraging kiss on Matt’s cheek.

“Mhm,” he hums, concentrating on getting his model over to the shirts he seen you pass earlier.

As Matt moves around to dress his model, you start reading through the chat again.

“‘Matt’s concentration and commitment to such a silly game is honestly so cute wtf’ Yes yes, I would have to agree, cvntynickk,” you laugh.

“‘Y/N, we need you here more often so he plays more than just fortnite!’ Ah, that’s kind of you chappellswift, but I don’t wanna be intruding too much,” you respond with a shy smile.

“Never intruding,” Matt mutters.

You smile at that, but it won’t stop the feeling.

“‘How to have a relationship like Y/N & Matt, no borax no glue plsss’ Just find someone who treats you right and respects you and the rest should really fall into place,” you say with a smile.

“Done!” Matt says.

You look over at the game and let out a gasp.

“Matt you did really good!” You look over at him to grin at him brightly.

“Thanks,” he says with a shy smile and slightly reddening cheeks.

The screen changes and voting commences. You and Matt go through the same process as last time. You watch Matt carefully choose each rating like this is America's Next Top Model and not a silly Roblox game.

Once it’s time for the winners to be announced, you feel Matt sit up just that bit straighter, and you struggle to reign in your smile at how serious he’s taking this.

The top three are revealed and,

“What the fuck!” Matt yelps out. “This is bullshit! None of what they’re wearing is y2k at all!”

He reaches over to see where he ranked and you watch as he stops and sees he got fifth place.

“Fuck this,” Matt huffs, leaning back in his chair. “I’m done with this game.”

“Alright then drama queen,” you laugh, exiting out.

“Thank you for having me, but I’m gonna go and get a treat now because I need my daily dose of sugar. Hopefully Chris didn’t eat all the donuts,” you mutter, placing a kiss on Matt’s head as you get up; Matt trying to get you to stay but not too hard knowing how you get without your sugar dose.

You wave bye to chat as well. “Maybe you guys will see me next time.”

“I’m so in love with her,” Matt says quietly to chat, but you hear it as you close his bedroom door; it makes a giddy smile appear on your face.

[endlessthxxghts]

Do You Like It Here?

Joel Miller x afab!Reader || W/C: 2k

Summary: Joel contemplates shaving his beard. You are absolutely against that idea, and he makes you explain why.

Content/Warnings: Pics above are for aesthetic purposes only. Neutral descriptions of an AFAB reader (“your top”, “your shorts”, “your breast”, etc.). No use of “y/n”. Joel can carry you but there are no other descriptions of reader. Implied age gap if you squint. Joel being big and burly. SMUT 18+ MDNI. Joel being a menace. Hints of body worship. Dirty talk. Reader liking facial hair for dirty reasons🤷🏻. Joel on his knees for you…. ✨Bathroom counter✨ Cunnilingus. Tongue fucking. Face grinding. Hair pulling (m receiving). Joel’s fucking nose deserves a warning😵‍💫 Allusions to further sexual activity. As always, let me know if I’ve missed anything!

A/N: Can we tell how much I think about Joel eating pussy?💚 My sweet sweet Roman Empire. Enjoy. :-)

MASTERLIST || NOTIF BLOG -> @endlessnotifs

“Should I shave it off?” 

You choke on your own spit, eyebrows hitting the ceiling. “What?”

“My beard. All this scruff. Should I shave it?” Joel asks you, his thumb and forefinger rubbing against his jaw, his eyes surfing his jawline in the mirror much too critically for your liking. 

“Do you want to?” You reply back, curious to understand what is going on in that chaotic mind of his. 

“No? Yeah? I mean,” he breathes. “I dunno. A lotta white is startin’ to come through, ‘n I feel like it makes me look… raggedy.” 

You frown. “Baby,” you say softly. 

You woke up before Joel, last night’s activities knocking him out cold right after you two cleaned each other up. Unfortunately for you, no matter how hard you fell into your slumber, your body always woke you no later than 7am. It was a blessing and a curse. You decided a shower was in order. 

As soon as you finished and got dressed, your burly, grumpy and sleepy baby of a man stumbled into the bathroom. Wanting his presence always, you hopped up on the bathroom counter, your legs hanging off the edge, and stayed with him as he continued his morning routine. It was after he brushed his teeth and washed his face that he posed his question to you. 

You place your hand on his jaw and pull him closer so he’s standing in between your legs. The light press of your fingertips never leave his face. “You don’t look raggedy,” you scold. “You look… well, you look fuckin’ sexy, for one. I love this look on you,” you admit, a little sheepish. Your eyes scan his facial hair once more before you glance at his eyes, then to his lips. Your finger traces his bottom lip. “So fuckin’ sexy,” you mutter, emphasizing your claim.

You don’t have to look into his eyes to know his demeanor shifted. You can feel the way his gaze darkened. He pulls himself closer to you, his knees knocking the cabinets. His hand starts on your knee, dragging it up your thigh and up your side until it settles on your jaw, his fingers grasping your chin to make you meet his eye. “Oh, is that so, darlin’?”

You gulp, your head softly nodding at his words; unable to speak as your eyes gloss over. “What else d’ya love about it, darlin’?” He pushes, his fingers tightening on your chin—words, he’s telling you. 

You can feel every part of your body heat up. “It…it…” you stutter. His eyebrow flicks up with a faintness only you’d catch. You clear your throat in hopes it makes you speak up. “You- you’re already so big ‘n broad, ‘n this… the scruff… it just adds to- to you,” you tell him shakily, your brain starting to flood with just how much you love his facial hair. “P-plus, it- oh my god,” you whine, unable to stop the spew of shit that’s about to fly out of your mouth. “It feels so good when it rubs against my thighs ‘n my-” you gasp. You don’t remember when it got there, but his other hand is gripping your thigh, his strength tightening at the last words that fell from your lips.

Slow, tantalizingly slow, he leans in. He places a lengthy kiss to your lips; your eagerness gets the best of you as you try and deepen it, but he’s already breaking away—moving down. His lips grace your jaw, your neck—more open-mouthed and needy these ones are, and he pauses. “Ya like how it feels here?” He says against your neck. Then he’s moving lower. 

He peppers kisses along your shoulder and the exposed parts of your chest your top shows. He licks and sucks at a particular sweet spot atop your breast. A breathy little moan escapes you, your arms falling limp to your sides—and out of his way. He pauses his kiss to breathe you in. Lavender. Vanilla. The shower you just finished still clinging deliciously to your skin. “Ya like it here, too, don’tcha?” He places one more kiss on the mark he just gave you, not giving you a moment to respond. 

Then. He’s falling to his knees. Today was supposed to be a lazy day for you two, so you settled on solely a pair of sleep shorts. Nothing more. His hands settle themselves underneath your thighs, scooting you as close to the edge as possible without making you off balance. He’s so tall that on his knees, his nose is belly button level with you. 

He pushes your thighs open. Starting at your knee, he places a swift kiss there. The higher he goes, the wetter and slower they become. A drop of sweat beads down your neck. His hands make their way to your sides, fingers dancing along the waistband. He meets your eyes for a silent confirmation. Planting your hands behind you for stability, you lift your hips for him, a whimpered please leaves your mouth. 

He pulls your shorts off slowly—the wetness staining the center of your shorts peels off of you, the cold air interacting with your slick sends a shiver down your spine. Joel lets your shorts fall to the floor beside him, his eyes darting to your glistening sex. “Fuckin’ wet,” he growls. “All worked up from my white beard? My old age?”

“‘S not what I meant,” you sputter, the kiss he places to your mound throwing you off-kilter. His hands grab onto your waist and he’s angling your hips forward, giving himself a full view of you. He does it again—kisses your sex—but this time, he puts his whole face into you as he uses his tongue to aid him, his scruff tickling all around, on your thighs, your clit. Your hips buck into his face at the sensation, a louder moan reverberating against the bathroom walls. 

“Oh,” Joel smirks. “Right there, huh. Ya like the way it feels right there? Right there on that sweet, perfect fuckin’ cunt, huh? Drives you mad? Wild?” He teases. 

You lament at his words, conflicted between which you want more—hearing his mouth or feeling his mouth? You're pulled from your internal battle when you feel yourself become impossibly wetter: a glob of warm spit lands right where you need him most. Fuck, fuck, fuck, yeah okay, you want to feel him. 

One hand behind you leaves from its place and reaches for his curls in an attempt to pull him into you. “Joel, baby, please,” you cry. 

His head doesn’t budge no matter how strong you are. “Nuh uh,” he tuts. “Tell me what I wanna hear,” he tells you. “Tell me what I wanna hear first, and then I’ll give it t’ya exactly, baby. Just be the good girl I know y’are f’me.”

“F-fuck. Fuck. Please, Joel, please-” you say impatiently. “I love the way it feels when I grind my fuckin’ pussy all over your face, baby, I love how it feels when it starts to burn against my thigh, the way it nudges and scrapes every part of me- it makes me feel like I’m on fuckin’ fire, baby, please,” you rasp.

“Atta girl, darlin’,” he coos, licking his lips before his hands pull you flush against his face, his tongue flying straight to your seam, licking a messy path that sends your slick and his spit everywhere. Instantly your head flies back, your hand curls into the roots of his hair once more as you moan and squirm against his grasp. 

Joel loves spending his time down there, but regardless of the fact, you’ll never get used to how fucking good he makes you feel. Joel is ruthless when it comes to eating you out—always making you see stars even in the light of day. 

“F-fuck, j-just like that, baby,” you pant, your one arm keeping you up threatening to lose balance at the greedy touch of his skillful tongue. He drags his muscle from your entrance and up to your clit, running circles and figure eights on it for a moment before he latches onto you—his lips completely wrapped as he suckles and continues to flick where you’re most sensitive. His dominant hand leaves your hip and he drags his fingers to your opening, his middle finger sliding in with ease—the sensation sending you to the edge of something white, hot, and all-consuming. 

“I’m- I’m gonna cum, Joel, shit, I’m gonna cum-” you squeak, your entire body feeling flushed at his actions. 

He pulls his finger out of you, his hand finding its rightful place perched against your hip as he pulls you impossibly closer once again, your ass nearly hanging off the bathroom counter, his grip the only thing keeping you up. Your arm loses its strength and you fall limp, your head thumping against the bathroom mirror, completely at the disposal of your man as he ravishes your sobbing pussy.

He lifts off your clit momentarily. “Give it t’me, sweet girl,” he tells you in a frenzy. His mouth is on you again, his tongue going straight to your hole—his tongue pushes inside of you as much as he can, his face pulled tightly against you. He begins moving, advancing his tongue in and out as you mindlessly begin grinding against face. With every upward push of your hip, his nose nudges at your clit and the pure ecstasy that washes through you is evident in the way you’re practically mewling above him, your obscene moans and gasps enough to make Joel’s hips thrust into nothing on their own accord in an attempt to seek some kind of relief. 

More arousal pours from you, and Joel is quick to drink it up. You can feel the way his tongue flexes as he gulps, and fuck, that is what sends you reeling. You yank onto his hair tighter, driving your hips into his face at a ravenous pace—practically fucking his face—and then it hits you. Eyes rolling to the back of your head as your back arches in this awkward angle, your orgasm hits you hard. It’s without warning, heart-pounding, toe-curling, addicting, and everything Joel. 

Your lips are babbling nothing coherent, the occasional drop of his name escaping your mouth as he continues to fuck you through your high. He’s moving much slower now, much more precise—as if he’s doing this solely for his benefit now, not yours. Which, you don’t mind. Even as you start to slip into overstimulating territory, you don’t want him to stop. 

You’d lay at his mercy for him to use you in any way he pleases if it meant you got to experience what it means to be loved by a man like Joel. With him, it’s all or none—none of that half in, half out bullshit. No, when Joel loves, he loves hard, and it’s evident in everything he does for you. Especially when it comes to your pleasure. 

A particular lick to your clit causes you to yelp out in a pleasurable pain, so Joel finally rises again, kissing your spent cunt one last time before he pulls you up, rubbing up and down your spine to ease the uncomfortable position you were in. 

“You okay?” Joel asks, slight concern and slight amusement on his features as he looks at your face. Pure bliss and contentment fills your features; he can still see the fog clearing from your head. 

“Yeah,” you mutter softly, a lazy grin plastered on your cheeks as you look up at his shiny face. Weakly, you bring your arms up and wrap them around his neck, pulling him in to kiss you. He takes the hint, and he bends down, letting your lips meet in a soft yet enthusiastic embrace. You love the way you taste, especially when it comes from his mouth. 

Pulling away breathless, both your and Joel’s eyes are aflame again. 

“Don’t shave, baby.”

“I won’t, darlin’.” 

You kiss him once more before he wraps your legs around his waist and carries you back to bed. 

You were wrong. It’s going to be a busy day after all.

A/N: Thank you so much for reading, and I hope it made your private parts tingle you enjoyed💚 If you’d like to be notified for upcoming fics, follow my notif blog!

@pedrostories

[lostintransist]

Let's talk about a reader who really hates gets frustrated with the guys when they try and take care of them. And I do say try.

Gender neutral reader.

John: "Dovie I said I would take care of fixing the stair when I got back," John shouts into the open front door. He stared at the new wooden step, the bright color at odds with the worn in dirt on the other three.

You appear at the door, face posed in a question. John points to the stair.

"I said I would handle it."

"Yeah?" You lift a brow, "And then you were on a job the next day with no timeline of return. I took care of it."

Slightly hurt he looks up at you. Caring for you is one of his greatest joys.

"Don't look at me like that John," you start down the steps pulling his face close, thumbs brushing his cheeks above his beard. "I nearly broke my ankle the day after you left when I was heading to work and forgot it was broken. I fixed it. I've told you if something isn't handled I will take care of it."

Sighing John tugs you closer, resting his face where it landed.

"I love taking care of you." His muffled words still reach your ears.

"And you do," carding your fingers through his hair and smiling down at him you continue, "I take care of everything you leave behind."

Simon: It shouldn't have turned into an argument. You knew he had gotten a call that someone he served with came home in a box and you snapped at him anyway. You took it as a testament to the solidness of your relationship that Simon allowed his anger to be seen by you.

"Dammit why won't you let me get your door?" He slammed his in frustration.

Annoyed already from a text fight with your sister you snap at him without looking up from the phone.

"Be faster than Simon. I refuse to sit and wait for you to do something like open my car door. I am not a lady in the 1800's first off and secondly I don't like being in the car so the sooner I can get out the better."

He is toe to toe with you when you look up. Exactly like you expected. His job taught him his size was an advantage, but not when the weapons are words.

"It's one thing! Why is it so hard to let me do this for you?" His hands are searching for where to land. He does that when he's nervous. Fingers twitching for a gun to hold or a tac vest to curl around. Finding nothing he shoves his hands in his pockets. He needs to moisturize, you could hear his skin scraping against the edge of his pockets.

"I capitulate to every other request Si!" Your hand flings to the side as if trying to cast away your frustrations.

"Ooo capitulate. Pulling out the big words are we?"

The mocking tone is too much.

"Fuck off Lieutenant Riley I would like my boyfriend back when he has a second to pull his head out of his ass," you snarl as you step around him and head into the local grocery store.

This was longer than I meant for... Should I do more of the COD guys?

HC Masterlist | Masterlist