#I’m talking bout Miles
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nicoscheer · 4 months ago
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pupkashi · 9 months ago
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a/n: i just wanted to write abt yuta being scary and sexy so here is my word vomit
masterlist
thinking abt bf!yuta who looks and acts so pathetic around u but is so protective and intimidating
yuta is so helplessly in love and devoted to you, even a blind man can feel the love he has for you a mile away. yuta is the first to laugh at your jokes, the first to tell you happy birthday and congratulate you on everything. he’ll give you anything you want the minute you ask for it, no matter what it is.
yuta doesn’t get into arguments with you, he’ll apologize for whatever he did wrong and prove to you he’ll never make the same mistake again. he’ll shower you in gifts and acts of service and spend as much quality time with you as you want.
there isn’t a thing he wouldn’t do for you.
yuta okkotsu isn’t the beefiest man on the planet, nor is he the tallest. but he is the most intimidating when he wants to be. and whenever anyone is a little too friendly with you, he definitely wants to be.
it’s only been two minutes since he left to the use restroom and there there some douchebag was, trying to flirt with you. it makes his blood boil, seeing someone who isn’t him be that close to you, trying to buy you a drink as you politely decline him.
it takes only a moment for yuta to walk up to you, snaking his arm around your waist and pulling you close to him.
“who’s this, angel face?” he asks you, his voice is soft and sweet as he speaks to you, but his eyes are sharp and venomous as he stares at the other man.
“he just was talking to me about some sport, he’s nobody yuu” you smile, trying your best to contain the situation while you could.
“yeah i was just leavin, don’t wanna waste my time on something used” the man snorts, turning around before his body is jolted backwards as yuta grabs his wrist.
the man immediately cried out in pain, knees buckling as yuta’s grip only tightened. “how ‘bout you quit crying and apologize,” yuta taunts, jaw clenched as his grip grew stronger.
“baby please i don’t want a scene” you plead, squeezing his arm and forcing him to look at you. yuta always thought your eyes were so alluring. something about them brought him a sense of serenity he never thought was possible.
“okay” he mumbles, letting go of the man’s wrist, rolling his eyes as the man cradled his now broken wrist, crying out about his pain and running the opposite direction.
the two of you don’t stick around, walking out into the hot summer breeze before you stop, hands on your hips as you stare at your lover.
“yuta” your tone is more than enough to stop him dead in his tracks, slowly turning on his heel with a sheepish smile on his face.
if you didn’t know your lover, you never would’ve guessed that the man who’s a stuttering and blushing mess in front of you broke a man’s write for flirting with you.
his shoulders are slouched a bit, strands of black hair framing his face perfectly as he tried his best to defend himself.
“I’m sorry darling” he begins, already giving you the puppy eyes you fall for, “i couldn’t just stand by and let some scumbag try to talk you up without-” you cut him off by grabbing his hand and pulling him to sit with you on a nearby bench.
“pretty boy, you know I’m only yours right?” the words make yutas fave flush a deep red, nodding softly as he looks at the ground. “you don’t have to fight or threaten every person who gets too close to me, i can handle myself” you explain.
“you shouldn’t have to” yuta mumbles, looking at you with a small pout. “i wanna be the one to protect you,” he sighs, “i wanna let the world know that they shouldn’t even think about trying anything with you.”
there’s a beat of silence and yuta is about to apologize again before you’re crashing your lips onto his. it’s a shock to him, but he immediately kisses you back, smiling when you bite his bottom lip softly.
“cmon let’s go home,” you smile, laughing when yuta practically jumps up, back to his sunshine smile as he intertwines his fingers with yours.
“you wanna make some cookies and watch a movie?” he asks, swinging your held hands as you two walks together down the empty street.
“you read my mind, pretty” you grin, leaning into him as the two of you walked, loving how he instinctively put his arm over your shoulder and kissed the top of your head.
there’s not a care in the world for you. you’d never have to look over your shoulder or carry a weapon with you. as long as yuta was by your side the only thing you’d have to worry about is stopping him from killing anyone who hurt you, intentionally or not.
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alltheirdamn · 1 year ago
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DECLINED | Mechanic!Joel x f!reader
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Summary: You're on a cross-country road trip when your tires blow, and you're forced to get them fixed at a small town mechanic shop. When your card declines, you only have one other option to get your car back. Rating: 18+ Explicit Word Count: 3k Warnings: Pre-outbreak AU, mechanic!joel, sex for favors, oral sex (f + m receiving), blowjob, deepthroating, cum eating, fingering, squirting, semi-public sex, unprotected piv sex, size kink, creampie, dirty talk, pet names, joel being a disgustingly nice gentleman, porn with absolutely no plot A/N: I saw this gif float across my pinterest and had a terribly fun idea... so here it is. Enjoy a lil fun ;)
PART 2 | Masterlist | Ko-fi
“S’all fixed up now,” Joel said, walking into the waiting room.
You had been waiting a few hours to have your alignment fixed and tires replaced, and now you could finally breathe a sigh of relief. You were on your way through the small town headed east towards Tallahassee when both of your back tires blew out on the highway. You were lucky not to cause a crash and thankfully found a local mechanic shop only half a mile off the road. 
“Thank you so much,” you exhaled as you stood up and stretched your legs.
Joel rounded the counter to the register, typing up the work order to charge you out. Wallet in hand, you waited for the cost, praying it wouldn’t make a dent in your bank account. You only budgeted so much for the road trip, and this definitely wasn’t in the budget.
“Alright, ma’am, lookin’ like it’s gonna be around $500 for everything. Shaved some off just for the hassle you been through,” Joel smiled.
Shit.
“Uh, okay. Great.��
You reluctantly handed over your card, praying it would be enough. Joel swiped it on his machine followed by a loud beep that clearly meant DECLINED. You let out a shaky breath, fishing through your wallet for another card.
“Shit, try this one,” you said.
Joel nodded, his brows furrowing a bit when it also beeped in the same tone. He slid your card across the table, cocking a brow as if to ask, ‘Got another one?’
“Fuck,” you laughed nervously. “Okay, how ‘bout this one?”
Another card. Another decline. How the fuck were you going to get out of town now?
“Sorry, ma’am,” Joel sighed. “No payment means no car ‘m afraid.”
You ran your hand through your hair in frustration, trying to come up with something. Glancing up at him, you took in his broad frame covered by a simple black t-shirt that seemed to hug the planes of his chest perfectly. You hadn’t even noticed the patchy beard or kind grin that he donned so well earlier. Maybe…
“Look, I gotta get out of here tonight,” you pleaded. “Is there anything I can do to just get my car?”
Joel crossed his arms over his chest, his biceps looking much bigger in that position. With a frown turning down his lips, he shook his head.
“Afraid not, ma’am.”
“Anything? Please, I'm begging you.”
He considered you a moment, his eyes raking over your figure. You felt your cheeks warm at that look, knowing what he might be insinuating. If that’s what it took to get your car and get the fuck out of this town, then why not?
“Anything?” He repeated.
“Yeah, I guess so. I’m pretty fucking desperate right now.”
Joel came around the corner of the counter, crowding you until your neck craned up to meet his eyes. Your heart thrummed in your ears, warmth blossoming in your stomach the longer he stared at you. 
“Desperate lil’ thing, huh?” He teased.
Backing away from you, Joel walked to the shop entrance and slowly turned the lock. He looked back at you as he flipped the sign to CLOSED as if testing your judgment. You gave him a meek nod, never letting your eyes off him as he stalked toward you again. His finger ran up your forearm, catching on the sleeve of your top and tugging it lightly.
“Follow me, darlin’.”
That sentiment, followed by the twang of his accent, was enough to make your knees buckle, and you followed him like a dog in heat. Joel led you back into the heart of the shop, scraps of tools and car parts littering the makeshift garage. And right in the center of it all was your car. Leaning against the hood, he patted the metal, beckoning you over. You dropped your purse on the workbench and walked toward him on shaky legs. Joel spread his legs a bit wider as you approached, his fingers wrapping around your belt loops to pull you in close.
You were a breath apart now, just the barrier of clothes separating you. Joel’s hands snaked around your waist and firmly palmed your ass through your jeans. You let out a small yelp as his fingers dug into the supple flesh, kneading and massaging until your eyes drifted shut at the feeling.
“You pay off all your debts this way?” His voice dropped an octave, and you felt the bulge in his jeans prodding against your stomach as you leaned closer.
“Fuck off,” you scoffed. “Wasn’t planning on my car taking a shit out here and definitely wasn’t budgeting for it either.”
“Hmm,” he mused. “Ain’t got a boyfriend to give you some cash to help?”
“If I did, I wouldn’t be out here tryna fuck you for my car,” you quipped.
A grin split across his face at your defensiveness, as if he enjoyed you being a brat. You weren’t trying to be— honest to god—but you desperately needed to leave this town, preferably with your car. 
“Y’sure are a bratty little thing,” he said, tugging you closer.
“Why don’t you stop talking so much and fuck me so I can get the hell up out of this small fucking town?” You grumbled.
Joel raised one of his hands to grip your chin, steadying your gaze on his. Sliding his thumb over your lips, he coaxed your mouth open and urged you to suck on his finger. Without breaking eye contact, you swirled your tongue over the skin of his thumb before wrapping your lips around it.
“Christ, darlin’,” he exhaled. “Might just let you suck my cock and send you on your way.”
You released it with a pop, a trail of saliva dripping from your bottom lip. Reaching down, you massaged the bulge in his pants, letting out a soft gasp. He was massive—bigger than expected. He let out a small chuckle as if reading your mind, bucking his hips against your touch.
“You’d give me my car for a little blowjob?” You questioned, squeezing his cock tighter.
“S’nothing little about me, darlin’.”
“Aren’t you just full of yourself,” you rolled your eyes.
Your fingers danced over the zipper of his jeans, tugging it down as he helped pull his cock free. You peeked down to catch a glimpse of it, your eyes growing wide. His cock was girthy and thick and definitely had no shortage of length, either. Precum leaked from the tip, and you wet your lips at the idea of trying to fit it all in your mouth.
“Y’gonna suck it or what? Car ain’t gonna pay for itself.”
“You gonna give me my car after?” You tossed back.
“Maybe,” he grinned. “Those tires might cost you extra.”
“We’ll see about that,” you smirked.
Sinking to your knees, you pulled down his jeans and underwear until he adjusted himself at the tip of your lips. You wrapped your hand around the base of his cock, squeezing softly as you guided it into your mouth. Stretching your lips wider, you swirled your tongue around the tip, basking in Joel's groan as you did so.
“S’fucking perfect, darlin’. That mouth feels fucking amazing.”
 You took him deeper, moving your mouth in a rhythmic motion until you felt his hand come down to grip your hair. He held you steady as he snapped his hips back and forth, pushing his cock further down your throat. Sputtering around him, you dug your nails into his thighs as leverage while he continued fucking your throat.
“That’s it, darlin’,” he rasped. “C’mon now, take this fuckin’ cock down your throat.”
Opening your throat wider, you swallowed every thrust as tears streamed down your cheeks. Joel was relentless with his thrusts, your nose brushing against the curls at the base every time you took him deeper. You could sense he was close to the edge, so you dragged your tongue against the base of his cock with each stroke, spurring him on further. It elicited a primal growl deep within his chest, and within seconds you could feel the warmth of his cum sliding down your throat. His cock twitched inside your mouth as he came down from his high, and you hummed as you swallowed every last drop.
Using the grip on your hair to pull you off, you sat back on your heels, coughing and heaving to try and catch your breath. Joel looked down on you with heavy lidded eyes and a smug grin as if to taunt you. Cupping your cheek, he slid his thumb against your skin and brushed away the rolling tears.
“Open,” he ordered. “Show me.”
You quirked a playful smile, leaning your head back as you stuck your tongue out to prove you swallowed it all. Slapping your face softly, Joel let out a soft chuckle.
“Atta girl.”
You brushed the remainder of your tears away, wiping the makeup from your eyes, and you stood on wobbly legs. Smoothing down your shirt and jeans, you crossed your arms over your chest and cocked a brow.
“I think I earned my car back,” you insisted, your voice hoarse from how hard he fucked you.
“Hmmm, y’think so?” Joel questioned. “I think I deserve a taste of that pussy.”
You shoved at him playfully, rolling your eyes. 
“In your dreams, cowboy,” you laughed. 
With his pants still hanging down, Joel spun you until your ass was pressed against the hood of your car. Working at the button and zipper of your jeans, he shoved them down and pulled your legs free until your bare ass was pinned to the cool metal. Joel gave you a lopsided grin and shoved you further onto the hood.
“I wouldn’t be a gentleman if I didn’t return the favor, darlin’.”
“You don’t need to do that,” you said, your voice shaky.
“Oh, but I want to,” he argued. “Gotta see how sweet you taste.”
Sliding down, Joel situated himself between your thighs, tugging your calves up to rest on his broad shoulders. He gave you a teasing kiss on your inner thighs before delving in, his tongue flicking at your sensitive bud. You careened back against the hood, your back arching as his mouth suctioned around your clit. Crying out, you carded your hand through the brown curls of his hair, anchoring his face against your wet cunt as it pulsed against his mouth. Joel plunged his tongue inside you, forcing another whine from your lips.
“Fuck!” You cried. “Right there! Oh my god, yes!”
He hummed in satisfaction, bringing his fingers into the mix as he opened you up, curling them against that sweet spot inside you. Keeping his mouth on your clit he worked in tandem with his fingers until that coil inside you wound tighter and tighter. With one more curl of his fingers, your orgasm surged through your body, forcing a gush of liquid to stream out of your wet cunt. Joel sat back in awe, staring at your glistening folds as your body trembled from the release, your juices covering his beard and mustache. 
“Fuck babydoll,” he grinned. “You a squirter, too?”
You laughed awkwardly and watched as he removed his two fingers and brought them to his lips. Sucking them into his mouth, Joel groaned as he tasted the remnants of your orgasm. You knew you could squirt—it was your own dirty little secret—but something about seeing him covered in your juices made you want more. Tugging him softly with your calves on his shoulders, you urged him back to your soaked entrance, silently begging for another round. 
“Gonna cover me in your juices again, darlin’?” Joel smirked. 
“Mhmm,” you whined. 
“Drench me babydoll, let’s see it.”
Joel’s mouth was on you again, lapping up the juices leaking out of you until you were crying out for him. He didn’t let up as he sucked your aching clit between his teeth, his tongue working at the bud in earnest. He pushed his fingers back into you, your cunt pulsing violently each time he curled them. Slipping a third finger in, he stretched you wider and moaned against your clit as your body tensed with another orgasm. Another rush of liquid made it past his fingers, soaking his mouth and chin. You could feel it trickle down the seam of your cunt, drenching the hood of your car as you thrashed against it.
“Christ, Joel,” you mumbled, your head lolling to the side. 
He rose to his feet, wiping a hand over the hair covering his chin as he smiled at you. You sat up slightly, positioning yourself on your forearms as you watched him slide his jeans further down his legs. You were already in this deep; you might as well keep going. Spreading your legs a bit wider, you raised a finger to beckon him closer. 
“C’mon cowboy,” you teased. 
“Y’really need that car, huh?” He smiled, lining his cock up to your entrance. 
“I really do,” you whimpered, nodding your head vigorously. 
Joel eased himself inside you, inch by fucking inch, until he was fully seated at the base of his cock. You both groaned in unison, his cock sliding in and out of you easily from all the juice leaking from you. Crossing your ankles behind his back, you pushed him deeper, mewling at the sensation of the tip of his cock brushing against your cervix. You could feel that stinging stretch of your cunt as he picked up his thrusts, your ass sliding up the car each time. 
“Shit, babydoll,” he growled. “S’fucking tight around my cock.”
“You feel so good, Joel,” you hummed. “Please, I need it harder.”
Listening to your pleas, Joel planted his hands on either side of your face, pistoning into you with brute force. He bent down, sucking and biting the skin of your neck until you were crying out from the pain mixing with the pleasure. You rolled your hips to meet him thrust for thrust, your cunt fluttering against his cock each time. That blinding orgasm was on the horizon as your muscles tensed up for its release. Running your hands up under his shirt, you dug your nails into his back muscles, dragging them down his tanned skin. Joel groaned into your ear, his hips snapping against yours harder and faster.
“Oh fuck! Oh fuck!” You sobbed. “I–I’m gonna fucking cum, Joel!”
“Yeah, babydoll? Fuckin’ soak me with it.”
He pulled out at the last moment, a heavy stream of liquid pouring from your cunt and coating your inner thighs and Joel’s cock. Without wasting a second, he drove back into you, picking up the pace despite your body still shaking and dripping from your orgasm. You could feel your tears rolling down the sides of your face, that warmth still coursing inside you. Joel’s thrusts grew erratic and off-rhythm, and you sensed his orgasm was pushing him to the edge. 
“Y’gonna let me fill that pussy, darlin’?” His lips grazed the shell of your ear as his voice sent shivers up your spine.
“God, please,” you cried.
With one…two…three final strokes, Joel was grunting and painting your insides with thick bursts of his cum. You both lay there limp and fucked out for several moments, catching your breath and chuckling as reality settled back in. He slipped out of you and drew his pants back up his legs, his eyes roaming over your sweaty body. With one hand, he tugged up the zipper of his jeans, using the other to push the cum leaking out of you back into your wet cunt. 
“Gotta send you off with some sort of parting gift,” he laughed.
You couldn’t help but laugh, too, adjusting yourself and sliding off the hood. Joel bent down to ease your pants back over your thighs and hips, helping with your own zipper as you stood awkwardly in front of him. Joel leaned in to kiss your cheek before walking to the corkboard hanging from the wall. Retrieving your keys from one of the hooks, he offered them to you with a kind smile.
“I’m free to go?” You asked, reaching for them. 
He pulled them away, shaking his head with a teasing grin. You pouted sarcastically, opening your hand and waiting.
“One kiss, and we call it even, babydoll.”
You grabbed either side of his face, pulling him in for a hungry kiss. You coaxed his mouth open, teasing your tongue over his, tasting your arousal still lingering on his tongue. Joel deepened the kiss, tangling his free hand in your hair to anchor you closer. Pressed up against him, you found yourself thirsting for more but knew you had no obligation to stay. Sucking his bottom lip between your teeth, you pulled away reluctantly and snatched the keys from his hand. 
“Thanks for the new tires, cowboy,” you grinned. 
Joel dazzled you with another gorgeous smile, the lines around his eyes creasing as he gave you one final nod. You squeezed your way out of his embrace, making your way to the driver's side door. He followed you over, opening it like the gentleman he was, waiting till you were situated inside. Leaning in for one more kiss, he lingered a moment too long before breaking away.
“Safe travels, darlin’. If you ever need some work done, y’know where to find me.”
You dug your keys into the ignition, letting the car rumble awake. Joel shut the car door with one final smile and watched you reverse out of the mechanic shop. Giving him a small wave, you turned onto the street and back toward the highway with a soreness creeping up your thighs.
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2knightt · 11 months ago
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HII!! could you write the gang with a reader that has an rbf and seems really intimidating/unapproachable but is a sweetheart? they arent very talkative and seem very cold but their love language is acts of service/gift giving & sorta quality time?? <33
୧ ׅ𖥔 ۫ pretty as a vine, sweet as a grape. ⋄ 𓍯
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…REQUESTED: you never judge a book by it’s cover. especially when it comes to y/n!
tags/warnings: people being judgy asf/spreading rumours, gang defending reader with their soul, reader is a softie i fear, reader is kinda shy, probably stupid:3c, steve threatening a manLMFAO
ೃauthor notes⁀➷ READER IS SO ME CODED HELLO also if two-bits part sounds stupid it ‘s because i’m high rn and even if can admit it’s a little iffy
dallas winston
thought of you as someone to be threatened by at first ngl
he heard of this scary, mean mugged, tuff looking girl and went ‘mh. an enemy🐺😒’
he went up to you one day, acting all tuff and shit just for you to look him up and down and nervously wave
look, he may not be the smartest cookie but he can see someone shy a mile away. and when he seen you wave, he felt like such an ass LMFAO
did he show it? no. obviously.
this is dallas. he’s an asshole.
“little miss tough girl, huh?”
“…pardon?”
that teasing from him DID continue until you walked away because dallas is the type to never back down, even when he’s wrong
expect for the next time you met him!!!!
he was actually asking you your name, where you’re from, etc, etc!!!
turning a new leaf dare i say…
and everything after that was history! cutest scary looking couple ever!
HE THINKS IT’S SOOO FUNNY THAT PEOPLE ARE SCARED OF YOU LMFAOOO
he plays into it sm if someone brings it up bro
“y/n? like..scary y/n?”
“yeah, like scary y/n. and i’ll get ‘er on ya if you keep talkin’ ‘bout her.”
“oh!😰”
he thinks it’s so silly to see you look really pissed off when he isn’t around just to greet you and see your whole demeanour change!!
dallas thinks it’s so cute😭 it’s like one of his favourite things about you!
“😠😒”
“hey, baby.”
“oh! hi, dal!<3”
LMFAO IMAGINE SOMEONE SEEING YOU, A MEAN LOOKING GIRL, SHOPPING FOR MENS LEATHER JACKETS
yuppp spoil that dickhead!😫 he lovelovelovesss getting gifts, ESPECIALLY from u!!!
if you’re clingy, i feel like he wouldn’t mind it. he teases THE FUCK out of u tho!😊
“big tough girl wants to hold hands, eh?”
“…yea😞.”
“awh, look at ya. come ‘ere.”
johnny cade
you might think he’d be scared and intimidated, right? but NO! he’s literally bff’s with ponyboy, he knows damn well what rbf is!
you two are sooo cute together
little kicked, scared puppy with his feral doberman!!!
tells people to stfu whenever they try and spread rumours that you’re scary, mean, and rude.
“you’re dating y/n? don’t you know she-“
“i don’t care, shut up. ‘s not like you know her😒.”
sometimes refuses your gifts.
johnny’s not used to them :( but all u gotta do is say please and flutter your lashes and u got em!!!!
“i can’t take it.”
“please?😞”
“…okay😣.”
and he DOES NOT regret it! he might fight you at first, but he cherishes those gifts with his life<3!
loveloveloveLOVESSS having u around constantly!! since your love language is quality time, you two are always hanging out together.
and, with your scary looks, you often keep the socs away from him!
hip-hip, hooray‼️‼️
the gang was like…worried for johnny at first.
THEY DIDN’T KNOW U WERE COOL THO😭😭💔💔💔
they were all like, “??seriously, johnny?? you pick the meanest girl?? ever???” and johnny was QUICK to defend. “y’all ain’t even meet her, and you’re already sayin’ she’s bad for me?”
when they did though, they were like ‘ohhhh….she really isn’t rude…..oh….’
HE’S SO PROUD TO DATE U THO LMFAOOO
and to know the real you?? treats it like an HONOUR
ponyboy curtis
was intimidated by you.
forgot he was also like you and accidentally glares at people who walk past him LMFAOOOO
You two are like two peas in a pod istg!!
“you look mean from far away,”
“???so do you, pony??”
“…no??”
“WHAT DO YOU MEAN, ‘NO’?”
mean looking couple who are truly just a bunch of nerds deep down to their soul<3
the gang was a little protective of ponyboy until they realized ur just like him LMFAO
They get having an rbf<3
pony loves spending time with you!
gift him a book and he’ll love you forever!!! (maybe even read it to you when you two are finally alone to help you fall asleep🤍)
he’s such a cutie…..
stays close to you in public because he thinks you’re scarier looking than anyone he’s ever met😊😊.
“cm’ere,”
“why?🤨”
“BECAUSE🙄!”
SCARY DOG Y/N IS REAL.
glares at anyone who goes around telling people that you’re mean and rude.
if looks could kill, they’d be dead already!!!
ponyboy does not fuck around with u i fear.
Sodapop Curtis
LMFAOOO GREEK GOD OF A MAN WITH HIS PISSED OFF GF WHO IS NERVOUSLY HOLDING HIS HAND !!!
he was NOT afraid of you!! in fact, he thought the rumours of you being an asshole were all fake
“you talkin’ about y/n?”
“yes, bro! they’re so rude-“
“how do you know?”
“well, i don’t-“
“so, shut up?😒”
cuz like??? did they not bother to understand you???
soda literally made it his mission to prove that you weren’t a dick!!😭😭
and GODDAMN HE WAS SO RIGHT
you’re such a sweetheart to soda! he lovesss telling people about how cute you are around him since it’s his own way to squash the rumours.
“my y/n is so sweet, you wouldn’t get it.”
“isn’t she the same girl who beat the soc to a pulp?”
“she can barely kill a fly.”
you don’t need to do much to scare off the girls that flirt with him at the DX, just a nice little glare every now and then and they’re already gone!
(soda doesn’t have to know that you play into the rumours sometimes. it’s our little secret.)
steve randle
HATES EVERYONE WHO TALKS ABOUT YOU
he’s petty AS FUCK LMFAOOO
they can’t handle the randle😜💯
“ew, y/n-“
“MAN, GET THE FUCK OUTTA MY FACE WITH THAT WHAT DO YOUUU KNOW ABOUT Y/N🗣️‼️”
that was an over exaggeration but you get the point.
gets very defensive when people try and ‘warn’ him about you lmfao
gift him a tool box and he’ll use it until it’s literally falling apart at the bolts<3
no seriously. it could be holding on by one screw and he’ll still use it. he doesn’t gaf. steve will use anything u give him.
he accepts ur rbf cause he thinks it’s SO FUNNY?? like he’ll see you far away with your friends looking all angry before one of them says a really funny joke and just watches your expression change so quickly
one of his fav things ever<3!
two-bit mathews
he makes so much jokes about it LMFAOOO
“jesus, y/n! you sure yer glare ain’t the thing that killed the dinosaurs?”
“swear i see the devil in yours eyes sometimes. it looks soooo good on you, though🤭🤭”
HE THINKS ITS SO ATTRACTIVE
and he lovesss your sweetheart side sm it’s like he gets best of both worlds
RAHH GIFT TWO-BIT MICKEY PLUSHIE OR ELSE
He’d totally have it on his bed 24/7. his sister has tried to steal it before to scare him btw.
skmetimes just to spend time together with him—you just go walking around town with him while he has an arm around your shoulder the whole time<3
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love-lilacs · 8 months ago
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as simple as that | tyler owens x reader (18+)
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“That alright?” Tyler asks, voice husky and breathy in your ear. It sends a shiver down your spine as heat pools in your core.
You nod quickly, not trusting your voice not to waver and betray you.
warnings: 18+ explicit content, minors DNI. porn w minimal plot, not beta read. smut. unprotected pnv (wrap it before you tap it pls). oral, m+f receiving. spanking. dirty talk. no use of y/n. slumby in a truck on the side of the road yk.
word count: 3.7k
It’s the middle of the night. The middle of the fucking night, and you’re tucked into the passenger seat of Tyler’s beat up red truck as you make your way through the middle of nowhere, Oklahoma. There aren’t any streetlights here, and the last car you saw was nearly an hour ago. 
“Tyler, the storm will still be forming tomorrow morning. Please, lets just pull over and get some sleep.” 
He shakes his head stubbornly, “It’s better if we make it tonight.” 
You huff, crossing your arms. “We won’t perform any better if you’re half-asleep while we’re chasing.”
“Darlin’ when have you ever known me to half-ass anything?”
You grit your teeth, unwilling to concede. “There’s a first time for everything.” 
Another half-hour passes in silence with only the tinny music crooning from the radio to fill the air. 
It annoys you, how perfect the great Tyler Owens is. He was the big man on campus back in college, 4.0 at graduation, party guy, and never turning down a challenge. 
And your personal nemesis, because while you were studying late into the night, he was blacked out at a bar and still managing perfect scores. He would always tease you in class, gently tugging your ponytail or stealing your pretzels during group projects. 
“I’m just saying-” 
You’re interrupted by a loud thunk from underneath the hood. You lean forward, peering through the windshield as if you could miraculously see through the metal to see what went wrong. 
“It’s probably nothing.” Tyler says calmly, anticipating your quip, “we’re only an hour and a half to the hotel. Don’t worry ‘bout it. I’ll get it checked in the morning.” Even as he speaks, Tyler grips the steering wheel a little tighter, an action you don’t miss in the dark cab. 
Something rattles, as if in response to his assuredness. 
“Oh yeah, it sure sounds like nothing.” You snark, turning to face him.
“Just relax, would ya?” Tyler snaps. “I know my truck.”
Silence fills the air as the truck begins to loose speed, the hood steaming as the two of you come to a slow, rumbling stop. On the side of the road, in Bumfuck, Oklahoma. 
Tyler must be reading your mind as he whips open his door and points a finger at you. “Don’t go anywhere.” He slams his door shut before you have a second to respond, circling the front to open up the hood. 
“Couldn’t if I wanted to!” You call sarcastically at his slammed door. Huffing out a sigh as you wait, petulant and childish as you sulk. 
But you aren’t good at waiting, and you aren’t half awful with mechanical things, so you jump out and join Tyler at the front of his truck. You stare down at the mess of metal and the steaming engine. 
“I can’t get it going again tonight.” He begrudgingly admits. “We’re going to have to wait until tomorrow morning for Triple A or someone on the team to get us.” 
“You’re fucking kidding.” You groan, wrapping your arms around yourself.
“It’s not half bad out here.” He muses, looking around. “We have our sleeping bags and blankets. We can just stretch out in the truck bed and sleep there.”
“Seriously, Tyler? That’s your best idea? Motel Owens?”
“Do you have a better one?” He fires back, putting his hands on his hips. “If so, I’d love to hear it. The next town isn’t for another fifteen miles, the team is blacked out at the motel, and even if they weren’t, there’s no service to call. Even if we walk, we aren’t getting there until daylight anyways.”
“If you had just listened at the last town-”
“Fuck! Okay! I get it! I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t know the truck would break down.” Tyler yells, stepping closer to you. 
“It’s not my fault your truck is old and shitty!” You yell back. 
“No, but you could be less of a dick about all of this. I’m not trying to piss you off, but you because you hate me you’re apparently determined to make me feel like shit!”
You open your mouth and close it. Your faces are inches apart, only illuminated by his headlights. You feel his breath coming quickly, in cool puffs from whatever mints he kept popping, and for a split second your eyes dart down to his lips. You don’t say anything and neither does he, chests heaving as if waiting for the other to say something. 
“Can we just suck it up for tonight?” He says lowly. 
You swallow thickly and nod.
“Good.” He steps backwards, slamming the hood and going to grab the bedding to make up his truck bed, leaving you standing alone and questioning the sudden desire you’ve had to kiss Tyler Owens. 
When he’s done creating a makeshift bed, you clamber into the truck next to him. Neither you or him have changed into sleep clothes, him in those stupidly tight jeans and flannel, you in linen shorts and a tiny t-shirt. Not the most comfortable sleep clothes, but you both seem determined not to complain to the other.
Tyler gave you the right side, knowing you like to be on that side of the bed in whatever hotel you crash in. He gave you the only sleeping bag you have, leaving him covered only by a thin fleece blanket. It’s springtime in Oklahoma, and while its been warm for the last few days, the incoming storm brings a cold front that leaves you wishing you had a sweatshirt and that you couldn’t feel him curling tightly into himself to try and keep himself warm.  
You tuck your hand under your chin, musing to yourself about Tyler’s chivalry. He wasn’t bragging, and knew without asking. You know each other more well than either of you would ever like to admit. 
So you don’t hate Tyler. Maybe you like how determined he is to contribute to every project equally. Maybe you love how much he strives to make everyone feel included, and how he volunteers in towns that storms have hit badly, searching through rubble for precious lost items and offering free food to the locals. Maybe you steal his food right back, secretly hoping he doesn’t eat the blue and red sour gummy worms because he knows you like those best, buying the spicy pretzels because he off-handedly mentioned that he really liked them the first time you brought them. You don’t hate Tyler Owens at all, in fact you might like him more than you can possibly handle. 
You’re both facing away from each other, staring at the walls of the truck bed. You roll over to face him, greeted with his plaid covered back, the blanket comically small and barely covering his waist to feet. 
“Tyler?” You ask tentatively.
He grunts out a “Hm,” in response. 
“I don’t hate you.” You say meekly.
There’s a pregnant pause, filled with the sound of crickets from the nearby field. Tyler rolls over. “Sure have a funny way of showing it, darlin’.”
“Well, I-I don’t. I’m sorry if I made you think so.”
“It’s okay.” 
Crickets again, and you can’t help but notice him shiver again as a rough breeze lifts the ends of his hair from his forehead. Abruptly, you sit up, yanking down the edge of your t-shirt where it had ridden up and unzipping the sleeping bag. 
“What are you doing?” Tyler asks groggily. 
“You’re clearly cold. We’re both adults. We can share the sleeping bag like a blanket for tonight.”
Tyler’s green eyes are wide in the moonlight, looking up at you uncertainly.
“Really, darlin’, it’s okay. I don’t want you to-”
“Tyler, we’re sharing a blanket. It’s not like I’m asking you to cuddle or something.”
“You don’t want to?” Tyler teases, propping himself up onto his elbow, that relaxed, crooked grin making an appearance on his face. 
You laugh and it comes easily as your cheeks go pink, imagining your body pressed against Tyler’s, him holding you close. “Are you asking?”
Tyler shrugs, laying down again with the sleeping bag covering him and an open space for you next to him. “Just to stay warm, right?”
You swallow hard, nodding slightly. You can’t deny that you want to cuddle him.
“Right.” You echo, laying down next to him. 
Your back is pressed to his front as he tucks the sleeping bag and blanket into your side to trap any heat from escaping. Tyler carefully tucks a thigh between your knees, wrapping his arm around your middle to secure your bodies together. 
“That alright?” Tyler asks, voice husky and breathy in your ear. It sends a shiver down your spine as heat pools in your core.
You nod quickly, not trusting your voice not to waver and betray you. Tyler’s chest is firm and comforting at your back, his arm securing you to him as if he’s afraid you’ll slip through his fingers like sand. His breath comes in soft, even puffs against your neck. However close you were to sleep before, its all gone now. 
Tyler has consumed your senses. His touch, his scent, his voice, and you’re becoming very aware of his hardening cock against your ass. 
Fuck it, you decide, testing the waters and grinding ever so slightly back against him.
The soft groan he lefts out surprises you both and you freeze. Tyler grinds forward into your plush ass, pulling you ever tighter as he whispers.
“Now darlin’, I know that wasn’t an accident.”
You respond by grinding back again, whimpering as you feel him against you. He’s so close to where you want him and yet so far. 
“Please?” Is all you can manage, squeezing your eyes shut in anticipation. Wether for in preparation for rejection or mortification, you aren’t sure. Tyler flips you over to face him, green eyes searching your own for any sort of hesitation or regret. 
“Kiss me.” You beg fervently, running a thumb over his lower lip. “Please, Tyler.”
You don't have to tell him twice as he surges into you. It’s hard and rough, yet romantic in a way that only he could manage to pull off. Those mints are still on his breath and you find yourself addicted to the taste as it mingles with the scent of whatever cologne he’s wearing. Tyler’s tongue prods gently into your mouth, exploring with gentle fervor. 
You’ve never understood just how romantic kissing with tongue could be until this moment. 
Tyler bites your lower lip, taking advantage of your shocked moan to haul you on top of him, cradling your cheek gently as he presses your body to his. He’s warm and smells intoxicating, like sandalwood and sage. You can feel him pressing into your thigh. 
Tyler’s fingers trail up your shirt, tracing the underwire of your bra. You sit up, pulling your shirt over your head as he stares at you with what must be awe. His lips are kiss-bitten and swollen but his eyes are wide as he takes in the view of you topless and perched on his thighs. 
He surges up to meet you, kissing you again and letting his hands rove over the newly revealed skin. Your body shudders with anticipation as he reaches behind him to yank off his own shirt. Toned, tan skin meets your hungry gaze and your eyes catch on a newly revealed scar at the base of his neck. You must know what it feels like under your tongue, so you attach your lips to it, biting softly.
Tyler lets out a guttural groan, filling his large hands with your ass through your jean shorts. 
You grind down onto him, moaning as the rough fabric of his jeans catch on your shorts just right. You must be soaked through your panties. Still, you rock forwards on his groin, him guiding your movements. Need is pooling in your lower abdomen- it must be pathetic how close you are just from grinding on him. Your motion becomes quicker, chasing a high you never knew could come so quickly.
“Does that feel good?” Tyler prompts, slapping your ass.
“Yes!” You cry out, raking your nails down his pecs to his abs. Ignoring the throbbing in your cunt from your abandoned orgasm, you slide down his body to mouth at him over his jeans. Eyes darting up to meet his, he gasps as you pull the zipper down. 
“Shit, baby. You gotta let me have a chance to-”
You don’t give him a chance to finish, instead trailing your hand to the waistband of his jeans. The soft hair of his happy trail meets your fingers as you dip your fingers inside and grab his thick cock. 
He groans like he’s been punched, when you first reach your fingers around him. Tyler changes his grip to fist his hands in your hair as you pull his jeans and boxers down, taking him out. 
No wonder he walks around like he does. He’s long and thick, with a thick vein trailing down the side. His tip is swollen and leaking cum, a rosy pink color you’d love to have a lipstick shade in, making you question why you’re waiting so long to have him in your mouth. 
When you first wrap your lips around him, Tyler sighs, the sound music to your ears as you take him more and more. What you can’t fit in your mouth, you pump gently with your fist. His breaths are coming in short jagged bursts.
“Fuck.” He cries out as you start bobbing your head. “I can’t believe I’ve been letting you run your mouth all this time when I could’ve been using it for- shit, this.” 
You love having the weight of him on your tongue, love the taste of him as you bring him closer to the edge. 
Abruptly, he pulls you off of him, eyes wild and crazed as he pulls you up to his mouth again. “I don’t want this to be over too fast, baby. I’ve gotta get my mouth on that pretty cunt.”
You let out a moan without thinking and he smirks.
“You like the idea of that, huh baby?”
You nod and he smiles, laying you down on your back. Where you were quick and eager, he was slow, taking his time as though you were something to be worshiped. Tyler took his time making his way down your chest, sucking your nipple into one mouth while he flicked the other with his fingers. You moaned softly as he lifted up his head, blowing cool air onto the hard bud. 
When he finally makes his way down to your core, you squirm. He presses a kiss over the top of your underwear before sliding them down your legs. Tyler spreads your legs, using his shoulders to hold you open as he drags a thick finger through your sopping folds, pausing to suck the finger into his mouth. 
“So goddamn’ wet, tell me how bad you need it, baby.” Tyler breathes, settling in. He rubs slow, tight circles on your clit, light enough to leaving you keening into his touch. He watches you intently as he waits for your reaction.
“So bad,” You whisper, “so, so bad.”
“What do you want?” Tyler teases, nudging your hole with his fingers. But he hold back, not quite giving you what you want without you asking.
“Your fingers. Your mouth, please Tyler.”
Tyler smirks, pushing his fingers into you and you gasp at the sweet intrusion. “Please, Tyler.” He mimics you, “I could get used to hearing that. Lucky for you, I’m desperate to taste your sweet pussy.”
He doesn’t give you a second to think, much less respond as he leans forward and licks a long stripe through you, thrusting and curling his fingers as he down so. You clench around him as he manages to find the right spot, barely curling his fingers before doing do. 
You gasp, pressing a hand over your mouth to stifle the sound.
“Don’t do that. I wanna hear you, darlin’.” He pulls your arm down, hand away from your mouth and lacing his unoccupied fingers through yours. His forearm bands across your waist, holding you in place as he sets his unwavering pace, rubbing your clit gently through it all. 
When he finally wraps his lips around your aching clit, you nearly scream, feeling him smirk into your wetness as the sound reaches his ears. “Atta girl. So sweet, baby. Come for me, I know you wanna.”
You can’t control yourself as you chase your high, grinding into his face. He moans as you do so, encouraging you as you chase your high. The sight of Tyler between your legs is nearly unholy, him deriving as much pleasure from it as you are. The thought turns you on even more as you feel back, all shame lost as you squeeze your eyes shut and stars bloom behind the shut lids. 
“Atta girl. Come for me baby, you’re so beautiful. This pussy is so sweet, so sweet for me. You gonna come for me? Let me feel this pussy come for me.”
Your high washes over you in a wave, warmth surrounding you as he works you gently through it. It finally starts to calm as Tyler presses a kiss you your clit, causing you to jolt up.
“‘S sensitive.” You whisper as he comes up to you, kissing you sweetly. His chin is wet, dripping with you and you can taste yourself on his tongue. The thought makes you want him more. 
“You did so good for me, baby.”  
You peel your eyes open as Tyler nudges his nose against yours. The action is sweet, but your mind isn’t on sweet. His cock is still resting against your thigh, throbbing, hard, and you’re desperate to be stuffed with it.
“Tyler?”
“Yeah?”
“If you don’t fuck me in the next minute, I’m going to kill you.” 
Tyler laughs, then groans, “Fuck, I don’t have a condom.”
“Don’t care.” You mumble, kissing him, “I’m clean and on birth control.”
Tyler groans, pressing his cock to your dripping pussy. “Thank fuck. Me too.” 
He pushes in slowly, and you grip his shoulders, lips ghosting over his in a silent moan when he bottoms out. Tyler stays still to let you adjust, an oddly romantic gesture. Then again, your last boyfriend didn’t give you a chance to adjust to the feeling and he wasn’t anywhere near Tyler’s size. Tyler must know that too, based on the gentle praise he’s whispering into your ear.
“Gotta move, baby.” Tyler says after a moment, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. 
You nod, digging your nails into his back and gripping the short blonde strands at the base of his neck, looking down at where your bodies join. You watch as Tyler pulls his hips from yours, relishing as the drag of his cock against your velvet walls. Tyler trusts back in sharply and you cry out as he sets a bruising pace. The way he moves is intoxicating, playing your body like a violin as he works you towards your high with just his cock. 
“You take it so fucking good, darlin’.” Jake sighs into your ear. You can only cry out in response as he hits that spot inside you again and again. 
Tyler trails his fingers down your body, never ceasing his movements as his fingers reach your swollen clit. He rubs tight circles on the nub, determined not to reach his high before you can get yours. 
“Tell me who makes you feel this good.” 
“You, Tyler!” You maon breathlessly, tugging at his hair again, “So good. You’re so fucking good.”
Tyler groans shamelessly into your ear. 
“Atta girl. I know you want it. Come for me, baby. Let go.”
Stars bloom from behind your eyes as your whole body goes hot, coming with his names on your lips. You feel like Jell-O as he pulls your orgasm from your body. Yet, he slows down as your clench around him, coming down from your high. 
When you open your eyes, Tyler is gazing sweetly down at you, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “All good, darlin’?” 
You don’t say anything, rolling your hips in response. You take advantage of his shocked expression and agape mouth to slip off of him and flip him over. Before he can open his mouth to speak, you’ve mounted him and are riding him within an inch of your own life. 
Tyler’s emerald eyes are wide as he gazes up at you, running his hands from your hips to your breasts, squeezing tightly as he gasps sharply. He thrusts up to meet you with every rock of your hips. Tyler is looking at you like you hung the moon and stars, pure wonder in his eyes. It only spurs you on; you like being under his gaze. 
“Gon- gonna- fuck, baby.” Tyler moans, “so fucking good for me.”
You rake your nails down his chest as he thrusts quickly and messily. You don’t stop as you feel him spill inside you. Slowly, you still your movements and slip off of him. He turns to look at you as you flop next to him. Tyler doesn’t say anything as he pulls you into his side, brushing a thumb up and down your spine. 
“Never would have taken Tyler Owens for a cuddler.” You mumble, kissing gently at his pec. You feel his laugh rumble though his chest. You tangle your legs with his, snuggling closer to him. 
“Is this just a tonight thing?” His voice permeates the silence.
You sigh, looking up at him. For once, he looks unsure and timid, afraid of your answer. 
“If you want it to be.” Is what you reply, feeling nerves settle in the pit of your stomach at his question. 
“Honestly? I don’t. Been chasing you for years, baby.”
“So ask me out.” You sit up, legs still tangled with his and blanket pooling around your waist, “and I’ll say yes.”
Tyler swallows hard, eyes catching on your exposed chest and pebbled nipples. “As simple as that?”
“As simple as that.” You smile reassuringly, placing a hand on his cheek. Tyler turns his head slightly, pressing a chaste kiss to the palm of your had. Instead of saying anything else, he pulls you back down into a searing kiss, holding you close as the sound of the Oklahoma night lulls you both to sleep.
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blueheron15 · 1 month ago
Note
Can you do one where the reader has a daddy kink…. (I know I’m sorry) but it’s kook!reader and JJ being all cute and then things start getting spicy? I’m not exactly picky and I know I’m not being very descriptive I’m sorry and if you don’t want to do this I’d completely understand! Have a good day!
proper gentleman
pairing: jj x fem!kook!reader
summary: while talking about your daddy issues with jj, you… get turned on?
warning: daddy kink, cursing, smut
a/n: totally fine with this, i hope you like the direction i took w this anon!!
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your mom had won the lawsuit against your piece of shit dad, which is why you were able to live on the kook side of the obx.
but you still returned home every day to a messy house and a drunk mother, passed out on the couch.
until you met jj maybank one night at the boneyard.
shitty and alcoholic parents was one thing you could relate to each other about. although it took him a while to learn to entrust you with his heart, he fell for your beauty and humor right away. he didn’t even care that you were technically a kook.
that wasn’t even the most shocking part of it all. somehow, you had turned to rugged, fuckboy into a lover boy who was completely smitten with you.
so much so, that he refused to let his girl walk to the chateau from the kook academy. with you, he truly wanted to be a proper gentleman. he ditched school a few minutes early to meet you in the parking lot, leaning against his bike, toothpick in his mouth.
“hey.” you mumbled distractedly, approaching him. you were in the blue academy uniform- buttoned up blazer, short plaid skirt, white knee high socks with your mary janes. you let your hair flow free, flipping it back against the slight wind before busying yourself on your phone.
“sup” he jutted his chin out in greeting. as you stood in front of him, he reached out to place a coarse, ringed hand on your hips. the other hand gently grabbed the wrist that was holding your phone, removing it from your line of sight. you leaned into him slightly, dropping your forehead onto his chest as you let out a frustrated groan.
“what’sa matter, baby?” he questioned, pressing a kiss to your temple.
“my dad.” you pouted, tilting your head up. “he’s posting photos of his vacation with his new wife and kids, and my mom is already drunk and going ape shit over it.”
he hummed in acknowledgment. “ah.”
“n’ she’s all like ‘he’s doing it on purpose to make me jealous’ so she told me she won’t be home tonight so she could go out with a man to get back at him and i-“
“hey, hey, hey,” he cooed, raising a hand to cradle your cheek. “i can see your pretty mind goin a million miles a second.”
“because it’s annoying!” you whined. “and of course, throughout all of this, they’re not thinking about how it effects me.” you sighed. “it’s like they don’t even notice me.”
jj shrugged, letting out a breath of understanding. “yea. they’re prolly not thinking bout u. but hey,” he lowered his face so y’all were at eye level, looking lovingly at you. “don’t let that fuck with you, aight? because i, for one, am always thinkin bout my beautiful, special girl. mkay?”
your heart nearly exploded in your chest and your body filled with warmth and your face broke into a cheeky grin. “okay.” you smiled. your lips finally met for a kiss, and of course, his hands wandered a lil down south.
he pecked your mouth, and peppered kisses all across your face while his hands cropped your ass atop of the skirt he found you so sexy in.
he leant in, breath smelling of weed a salt water, whispering “it’s alright, baby. i’ll be your daddy.”
he meant it as a joke, but wasn’t opposed to the way he felt your knees slightly buckle, and your breath hitch. he smirked.
“let’s go, y/n.” he said, backing up suddenly to pat the seat of his bike. “i just realized that i got some important business to attend to.”
-`✮´--`✮´--`✮´--`✮´--`✮´--`✮´--`✮´--`✮´--`✮´--`✮´-
that’s how you found yourself against the wall of your bedroom in your empty house. bouncing up and down on jj’s cock.
your preppy uniform skirt still on, the fabric rubbing deliciously against your clit.
“such a good girl f’me, huh?” jj grunted, meeting your movements by thrusting up into you roughly.
tears dried onto your cheeks as you let out moans. well, more like screams. “y-yes!”
“yes what?”
“yes daddy!”
“mhmm” jj groaned in approval, supporting your weight by digging his nails into the beautiful, jiggling flesh of your ass. “daddy’s taking such good care of you, hm?”
“yes!” you nodded frantically. “s-so good!” you whined, harshly grabbing him by the neck to bring his mouth to your tits.
“this whatcha want, my good girl?”
“p-please daddy.”
he abruptly brought an elbow to pin you against the wall, stopping your movements. you let out a hiccup of protest, but not making a sound instead and giving him sad eyes, knowing you had succumbed completely to his mercy.
he knew it too, by the devilish look on his face. “then my princess is gonna get whatever she wants.” he whispered in earnest.
he brought his tongue to swivel and suck your nipples, and for once, you knew that your daddy was finally going to love on you.
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rapturously · 1 year ago
Text
WHAT COULD’VE BEEN.
( michael schmidt x fem!reader. )
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༄ ⠀𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 | michael schmidt x [fem!]reader.
༄ ⠀𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 8.8K.
༄ ⠀𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐭 | one-shot, not requested. potentially multiple parts.
༄ ⠀𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | mentions of past trauma, depression, friends to lovers, confession of feelings, mutual pining, explicit sexual content/smut, virgin!mike, loss of virginity, mike is definitely more submissive here, vaginal sex, riding, making out, dry humping, hair pulling, light dirty talk, cunnilingus, fingering, handjob, unprotected sex (pls wrap it), cum play, mike moans a lot I don’t make the rules !!
༄ ⠀𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 | you guys should’ve seen this coming from a mile away … anyway !! I hope you guys enjoy, I loved the movie & I love Mike even more! If this fic gets good reception, I would like to make a second part or more Mike fics! Please let me know what you think! Thanks so much for your love & support, you guys are just fantastic! ❤️
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❝ “What could’ve been, Mike?” You whispered, absentmindedly rocking closer until your chest nearly bumped into his shoulder.
A saccharine affection glistened within his warm stare, enough to burn a hole right through you as he squeezed your hand. “Us.” ❞
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Sparky’s Diner stands proud alongside the highway, a now-dilapidated fixture of a small town. Your parents used to take you here as a child, and at one point, it was your grandmother’s favorite place to eat. Now, it almost seemed forlorn, with the occasional gaggle of patrons or stragglers, but nothing more. You were seated in one of the creaking booths, slumped forward.
Cars whistle past a smudged window pane, slivers of daylight trickling through as they catch against the ceramic surface of your coffee mug. Your leg bounces — it mirrors that of the man sitting across from you. Silence fills the void between the both of you, a tenuous moment that seems to last an eternity until you hear a brief clearing of a throat.
“How’ve you been?”
You hadn’t seen much of Michael Schmidt since the incident at the mall — it was almost as if he’d become the resident recluse, and part of you couldn’t fault him for that. You were working at Auntie Anne’s Pretzels, now doomed as a paper-pusher at the career center. You’d run into Mike that way days prior.
It was a loaded question — you were unsure of how to proceed. Part of you wanted to inquire about his own wellbeing. Exhaustion glistened on his features as if they were a permanent fixture, from the bags underneath his eyes to the far-off look in his bloodshot gaze.
He kept his hands stuffed into his pockets, his stare momentarily trailing between you and the lukewarm mug of coffee sitting in front of him. Mike recalled the days of working at the mall with you — it almost seemed a little easier back then, when he wasn’t completely weighed-down by nightmares and job instability.
Mike still held this nagging sense of guilt for letting your friendship crumble after the mall. You’d tried to reach out on numerous occasions, even after his arrest for assault and battery — no one else had done the same. It was scorched earth wherever he stood, and there wasn’t a single soul willing to get close.
“I’m doing well enough,” Your answer finally emerged after a near-endless bout of silence. The warmth had drained from your mug, but it gave you something to hold onto. “How’s Abby?” Mike’s younger sister was his entire world — you often commended him for his undying commitment to her.
Gone were the days of you sneaking her free cinnamon-sugar pretzels and delivering the leftovers to Mike once your shifts were through. You missed it — it almost felt like some distant dream, when in reality, it was only a year and a handful of months ago.
Any mention of Abby often struck a chord within Mike, as if an amalgamation of memories had come back to haunt him. His countenance was a reflection of that — still anchored down by the ghosts of the past. His dreams were becoming more vivid — worse, even. A sinking feeling consumed him then, jaw tightening as he fought against the onslaught of emotion.
A grimace flickered across his visage, enough for you to become concerned. Your heart began to beat a little faster — had something happened to her? “Mike?” You prompted, voice dropping an octave, softening up as you tilted forward. The last thing you wanted was to bring up painful memories.
You knew about his brother, Garrett.
“She’s fine,” Mike exhaled, pocketed hands perched atop his lap. He hadn’t intended to sound harsh, gaze apologetic as he looked back at you. “I’m sorry. My Aunt, ah … She’s trying to get sole custody of Abby. It’s been an uphill battle.” He confessed, tone downtrodden.
“Mike,” You murmured, brows knitting together as you abandoned your mug, hands twisting themselves together. The pain etched into his face was unmistakable — and he was holding himself together through it all. “That’s awful. Have you talked to the courts?”
A humorless huff of laughter escaped him, followed by a more indifferent expression. “No,” He leaned back within his seat, hands withdrawing themselves from his pockets, splayed out across his lap, instead. “I’m definitely not fit to be raising a kid, I know that much.” Mike sighed, eyes fluttering in the opposite direction.
Protest formed upon the tip of your tongue, prompting you into action. “That’s not true. She’s been glued to your hip, even when we worked at the mall. I think if a Judge saw how much the two of you mean to one another, they wouldn’t take her away.” You murmured.
This was the you that he’d sorely missed — one full of tenderness and a gentle optimism. Mike wanted to believe you, but given the overwhelming circumstances and his Aunt’s persistence, it felt like a losing situation. At least, for now, he had time to work this new job and gain some rapport in the process.
“I hope so,” Mike folded his hands together, resting them atop the stained, plastic tabletop. He wanted to change the subject — for now, anyway. “Thanks for still sticking with me, even after all this time.” He murmured, a pang of guilt gnawing away at his insides. You were a good person — the best that he knew.
He felt like he’d squandered away your friendship to slip into this veil of reclusiveness, instead of still holding onto you, that little ray of sunshine. Mike wanted to make amends with you, and he wanted to start down that path before he’d inevitably ruin it again.
An empathetic smile crept onto your features, followed by a soft exhale. “I wish that we hung out a little more,” You mused, tucking a fist underneath your chin. “But I understand that you’re busy. Did that job work out with Mr. Raglan?” You inquired, eyes sparkling with intrigue.
Mike’s breath hitched within his throat, a very subtle noise — he missed you terribly. Jeremiah used to tease and torment him about the colossal crush he had on you, but those times were buried within the past. His sentiments hadn’t changed, but he didn’t think he brought anything to the table, admittedly.
The job.
A security gig of an obliterated restaurant franchise where the animatronics were operated by the spirits of dead children — that job? Even after the revelation delivered to him by his own sister days prior, he still felt drawn to that place, as if he needed to be there. Abby had fun whenever he took her there — it was comforting to see her laugh and smile again.
“Yeah, the security gig.” A lump formed within his throat. He wanted to tell you all about the haunting at Freddy Fazbear’s, but it almost seemed too unbelievable. He didn’t expect you to believe him anymore after he’d grown distant from you. “It’s going. The pay is horrible, but it’s the only place that’ll take me.”
Mr. Raglan was often attempting to lure people into this security position at Freddy Fazbear’s — it must’ve been a profession with an abnormally-high turnover rate. You recalled one instance of him trying to barter with some older man to take the job.
Your memory of Freddy Fazbear’s Pizzeria was wonderfully vibrant — some of your favorite memories were spent at that restaurant as a child. Friend’s birthday parties, end-of-school summer celebrations, and your own birthday on a handful of occasions. Though, even with brighter times, there was always a splash of darkness.
One of your childhood friends had gone missing — everyone knew about the tale of the disappearing children. Your parents forbid you from going back to that establishment after law enforcement swarmed the place, with detectives scouring it from top to bottom. With a place as family-friendly as Freddy’s being involved at the center of child disappearances, it shut down.
“Freddy’s?” You asked, shifting within your seat. Mike’s countenance held a little spark of uncertainty intermingled with fear — enough for you to mention something about the restaurant’s gruesome history. “It’s supposedly haunted. You haven’t encountered any paranormal activity at night, have you?” You teased, head canting to one side.
Mike couldn’t help but smile — a sardonic, somewhat bemused expression that happened to evoke your curiosity once more. “Something like that.” It was difficult to discern if he was joking or not, truth be told. “Working the night shift, you think you see things — the mind playing tricks or something.” He was afraid of telling you the whole truth right away.
That explained his haggard, sunken look — the disheveled tresses and forlorn stare. He must’ve been exhausted from working nights. You never had the experience of a third shift, but you didn’t envy him. “You look tired,” You chimed, and then, a proposal came to fruition. “Would you want help with watching Abby?”
Max stopped answering her phone, as if she’d become wholly disinterested in babysitting altogether. He couldn’t really blame her — he hadn’t paid up and Abby could be just as reclusive as he was. “No, no. You don’t have to do that. Between you and me, I’ve been taking her to work with me. She likes it there.”
A gentle smile fluttered across your features. The animatronics were adorable — you imagined that Abby liked them quite a bit. “Sure, Mike. If you need help, don’t hesitate to ask. I have some downtime with my job, I don’t know if you can say the same.”
Mike’s heart skipped a beat, chocolate hues captivated by your softened visage. Your smile was mesmerizing — that was still a constant about you, it hadn’t changed whatsoever. Those inklings of affection were spiraling into tidal waves, as if he were back at the mall again, fawning over you from afar as you handed out pretzels.
“Thanks, I really appreciate it.” He chewed at the inside of his cheek, debating on whether or not he should invite you to come with him to the next shift he worked. It wasn’t a good idea — the animatronics were hostile toward adults, he realized. Maybe Abby could remedy that. “So, are you …” He trailed off.
Were you seeing anybody?
Did you enjoy your job?
Did you want to come over to his place for pizza?
Were you still planning on going to university?
Akin to a deer in the headlights, Mike’s fingers curled into the rough fabric of his jeans as he pondered on what exactly to ask you. He wanted to fully catch up, away from the public spotlight of a run-down, dingy diner — not that his house was any better, but he could clean up.
“Are you going to university?” It was a cowardly option — he could’ve chosen the emboldened route, but it felt too soon, inquiring about details of your personal life. You didn’t owe him anything. You’d talked about going to the University of Utah countless times.
Part of you wanted to inquire about the intricacies of his own life — about his Aunt, about Abby, and perhaps delving a little deeper. You really liked Mike, especially when working at the mall together, and after all this time, nothing had changed. A soft burst of laughter escaped you, followed by a wrinkling of your nose.
“No,” You sighed, tapping your fingers against the ceramic mug sitting on your left. “I don’t know if I can go and realistically afford it. I don’t want to run myself into the ground just for school, you know? I’m trying to save up as much as I can.” Your dreams were still present — just seemingly out-of-reach.
Mike could see the flicker of frustration settle into your features, and he felt for you. He’d thought about trying for engineering at one point in time, but with his parents passing away and the weight of responsibility falling upon his shoulders, it all fell through. “I understand,” He scratched at the top of his hand. “You’ve always been too smart for me.” He mused.
“That’s not true,” You protested, playfully rolling your eyes as you nudged at his shin with your foot. “You’re just as intelligent, if not more. Do you remember when you helped me fix the salt dispenser?” A sense of giddiness rippled through you when Mike smiled — nearly tangible, oozing with warmth.
“I remember,” An inkling of humor crept into his tone, accompanied by a fluctuating smile. “I don’t think you knew what the word ‘twist’ meant.” He prodded, dark eyes twinkling with mirth as the two of you engaged in banter about work — back then, at least.
A scoff left you, but your smile remained ever-present, dimples forming at either corner of your mouth. “In my defense, it was needlessly complex. You can agree with me.” You laughed, glancing outside once more. The day was still young, trees swaying with the breeze as patrons came in and out of the diner.
“Sure,” Mike chuckled, pearlescent teeth flashing in the brief hint of a grin before it began to wane. It was a disappointment, really — you would’ve liked to see more of that. “I do miss the free pretzels.” He mused, voice having lowered to a more amiable tone. Part of him yearned for the days back at the mall — it all seemed a little easier, back then. His Aunt wasn’t trying to take his sister away, and the money was better.
The Mike that you knew back during your time in the mall was laced with a wisecrack humor, as smart as a whip, and often full of conversation. You could tell that he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders — it was his eternal burden, it seemed. Selflessness and compassion were ingrained into him, a second nature or instinct, and you admired him all the more for it.
“I missed you, Mike.” You confessed, gaze seemingly forlorn as the two of you lamented about the not-too-distant past.
It was as if you’d stolen the air right from his lungs, ripped it away with your bare hand. Goosebumps formed along the column of his spine, prompting him to shift within the cracking leather of the booth. You’d rendered him speechless, enough to where he felt the need to try and recuperate, lips parting as if to speak — words turned to ash upon his tongue.
Mike missed you more than words could properly describe — he couldn’t convey whatever it was he wanted to say. He’d kick himself knowing that he let this go, let you go, when it could’ve been his all along. A bevy of emotions stirred within his chest, prompting him to dig the heel of his palms into his legs.
Maybe that lifeline, that support — it was something that he sorely needed. That was his justification, his excuse to say he needed you in a roundabout way. Finally, he allowed himself to relax, jaw clenching and unclenching within the same breath.
“Yeah,” Mike nodded, gaining the courage to look you in the eyes this time. “I missed you, too.” His confession hung heavy, like a weight dragging the both of you back into this unspoken sentiment. Whatever courage was instilled in him, he decided to go the extra mile. “You should come over sometime.”
Exhilaration happened to be a mere understatement for whatever it was you felt in that moment — it was borderline ecstasy. You were wholly prepared to launch yourself at the opportunity to spend time with him again, but you composed yourself, keeping any giddiness at bay as you nodded.
“I’d like that — I’d like that a lot, Mike. It’d be nice to see Abby again, too.” You smiled, excitement dancing across your features, barely restrained as you cleared your throat. “I don’t want it to conflict with your work schedule or anything.” You blurted, hoping that he’d be able to keep up with sleep, too.
He couldn’t recall the last time he’d invited someone over, but this was you — Mike had already squandered your friendship once before, and he wasn’t about to repeat the past again. It weighed on his conscience enough. “It won’t. Promise.” He reassured you, unable to keep from smiling this time. “Tomorrow night?”
Heat crawled across your features, sinking into your very bones as you cleared your throat. “Tomorrow night works perfectly.” You checked your watch out of habit, nearly cursing yourself when you realized what time it was. You had fifteen minutes to spare before you were officially late for work. “Shit. I’m going to be late for work.”
“I understand. Walk you to your car?” Mike offered, gesturing toward the weed-laden parking lot as you scrambled to toss a crumpled twenty-dollar bill onto the countertop.
“Of course.” Each night after work, he’d walk you to your beat-down, shitty Acura, making sure that you were safe and sound in the dark parking lot. It was comforting to know that his habit hadn’t changed in the slightest.
Once outside, Mike stuck close to your side, hands slipping back into the pockets of his faded jacket as he walked with you to your car. Trash billowed through the parking lot like a tumbleweed, narrowly missing the front of your Acura. “She’s still running?” He teased, patting the top of your decaying vehicle.
“Hey, don’t be mean to the car. It’s still chugging along. That’s more than you can say about your Accord.” You snickered, tossing your bag inside of the passenger door before turning toward Mike. Awkwardness welled inside of you — it wasn’t like you hadn’t hugged him before, but something nagged away at you this time.
Mike let out a huff of laughter, head canting to one side. “Touché.” He mused, visage softening as he looked you over. You were pretty — too pretty for him, but he decided to skip over the brief bout of self-depreciation. “I’ll see you tomorrow?” His voice trailed off in something of an inquiry.
“Absolutely. I’m excited,” You beamed, and without thinking this time, shuffled closer to give him a hug. Much to your delight, he reciprocated, arms wrapping tightly around you, bringing you in against his chest. You could’ve stayed that way for an eternity — but now, you had ten minutes to spare before work. “Thank you, Mike. For everything.”
He was completely and utterly undeserving of you, but Mike counted his lucky stars that you still wanted to stick around. Instead, he accepted your gratitude, wanting to hold you just a little longer — if only. He reluctantly relinquished his grasp on you, gaze oozing with a saccharine warmth. “Yeah,” He nodded. “Drive safe.”
You smiled, exuberant and chipper before you squeezed his hand. “See you tomorrow.” You mused, hopping into the driver’s seat of your rattling, sputtering Acura as you sluggishly pulled out of the parking lot and out onto the road.
Mike lingered in the lot, glancing toward the fading pavement, and then toward the sky — he had so much cleaning up to do tomorrow.
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“Help me clean up around here, and I’ll buy you new crayons.”
It was the only viable bribing he could do to get Abby to help him with picking up around the house. Given his chaotic work schedule and the newfound circumstances with the haunted animatronics, there was little time to keep the house tidy.
He’d gone to work that night after you’d departed from the parking lot, slept a little bit while Abby entertained herself with her friends, and went home when the sun came up. He was tense after the first few times he’d taken Abby to the Pizzeria — the animatronics were still dangerous, but nothing bad had happened.
Yet, anyway.
“Who’s coming over?” Abby asked, collecting remnants of trash and crayon pieces from around the living room, depositing it all into the trash can. “Why do we have to clean up if it’s Aunt Jane?” She mumbled, somewhat dejected as Mike scrubbed the dishes.
“It’s not Aunt Jane,” He cleared his throat, visage swarming with heat as it turned a light shade of pink. “You remember Y/N, right? From the mall — she worked at the pretzel place. She gave you the sugar pretzels.” Mike hoped that his sister would remember you, but there were no guarantees. It’d been awhile.
Abby gasped, realization glittering across her features as she grinned — toothy and mischievous. “You like her,” She prompted, standing by her brother as he tediously made his way through the stack sitting by the sink. “Is she coming over for a date?”
“No, it’s not a date, Abby.” Mike groaned, flicking a wad of soapy bubbles at her. She squealed, smacking at his arm before he gestured toward the closet. “Need you to run the vacuum around, okay?” He sighed, wondering if he’d end up regretting this.
“Okay.” Abby sighed, begrudgingly making her way to the storage closet, haphazardly untangling the cord to the vacuum before plugging it in. “Can we get pizza?” She asked, standing beside the couch, vacuum sitting next to her. “Please, Mike?”
“We’ll get pizza, Abs.” He hesitated, swiveling upon his heel as she sat atop the arm of the couch, watching him finish up the dishes instead of vacuuming. “Does the floor clean itself?” Mike teased with a grin, prompting his sister to hop off of her perch, starting up the vacuum as she began to run it around the living room.
By the time Abby finished vacuuming and he’d gotten the kitchen into a near-spotless state, he focused on tidying up his bedroom and getting the laundry together. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d gone through the entire house like this on a whirlwind just to make it tidy for you — and he’d do it all again if he needed to.
As he tucked the corner of his blanket underneath the pillow, he heard a knock at the door. Mike assumed that it was the pizza guy — or so he hoped. He wanted everything to be perfect, considering that you hadn’t really hung out together since the mall.
“Mike! Pizza!” Abby called out, sitting at the dining room table with a handful of crayons and sheets of paper. She was drawing another picture for her friends — it was all of them in a field of flowers, accompanied by a bright sun and plenty of birds.
It gave him an opportunity to check over the house as he made his way to the front door, ensuring that everything looked spotless. Admittedly, it was the best the house had looked in several months — a twinge of pride rippled through him as he opened up the door.
After Mike handed him a very weathered twenty, the man reluctantly handed the pizza boxes over before hopping off of the front steps.
The timing was perfect — ten minutes later, and the guttural lurching of your Acura could be heard pulling into the driveway outside. Mike placed the pizza onto the table, tossing a handful of paper plates beside it. Abby leaned over, peering toward the door as he lingered close by.
You were nervous — you couldn’t explain it.
Part of you felt wonderfully ridiculous, having worn something that you considered cute to his house, applied a splash of makeup here and there. As you sluggishly made your way to his front door, you smoothed your hands over your blouse, hands knitting together. You waited a beat, and knocked on the door.
Mike was there instantaneously, as if he’d somehow teleported to that very spot. The door flung open, and you were greeted by his beaming countenance. It was the happiest you’d seen him in some time, which was something of a relief. He looked attractive — the emerald sweater suited him perfectly.
“Hi,” You greeted, offering him a brief wave as you stepped inside, only to be swarmed by Abby in the process. “Abby!” You giggled, stooping down to return the girl’s hug. “You’ve gotten taller, haven’t you? You’re going to beat your brother in no time.” You teased, lips twitching into a grin.
“Did you bring any pretzels?” Abby asked, staring at you with those large, doe-like eyes. A pang of guilt struck at your stomach — you hadn’t worked at Auntie Anne’s for several months now.
“No,” You sighed, shaking your head back and forth. “I don’t make pretzels anymore. I put away lots of paperwork now.” It sounded less appealing when you said it outloud. “I did bring something else for you, though.” You unzipped your bag, revealing a very fuzzy, stuffed rabbit.
Abby gasped, taking ahold of your gift as she squeezed it against her chest. “He’s so cute!” She giggled, showing off the bunny to Mike, who couldn’t help but smile. You’d always been very good to Abby, able to forge a bond with her that he envied on occasion. “Thank you!”
Laughter bubbled forth from your lips, mirth sparkling upon your features. “Of course! I hope he keeps you warm at night.” You mused, glancing towards the pizza boxes organized in a neat row on the dining room table. “You got Greek’s? You’re spoiling me.”
As Abby hopped toward the table to dig into the cheese pizza, Mike gestured at the kitchen. You followed him over, removing your jacket as you hung it on one of the pegs along the wall. “Want something to drink?” He asked, noticing the bemused expression you wore. “I don’t have anything stronger than Dr. Pepper.”
Your nose wrinkled in amusement as you leaned against the countertop, glancing over your shoulder at Abby. The rabbit sat soundly at her side, crayons and paper scattered on the empty side of the table. “I’ll just drink Dr. Pepper.” You chimed, having a gander at your surroundings. You’d been to his place several times before, but it was abnormally spotless.
“Sure,” Mike mused, handing you a can of soda before clearing his throat. “Abby wants to watch Labyrinth, if that’s okay with you.” He’d watched the movie a hundred times before — it was one of her favorites. Unfortunately, he’d memorized most of Bowie’s quotes throughout the film.
“Absolutely,” You chuckled, popping open the drink with a soft hiss. “I wouldn’t say no to that, anyway. It’s a certified classic.” With a bright smile, you and Mike returned to the table, joining Abby as you ate pizza together. The atmosphere was beyond comforting to you — you wondered why you were so anxious to begin with.
It felt like home.
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“You don’t like it, do you?”
It didn’t take a rocket scientist to tell that Mike was completely and utterly bored with Labyrinth. The two of you sat a comfortable distance away on the couch, Abby laying on the floor, dozing in and out of slumber. You kept your voice hushed, knees tucked toward your chest as a playful smile tugged at the corners of your mouth.
“Do you know how many times I’ve seen this movie?” Mike whispered, rolling off of the couch as he stooped down to pick up Abby, making sure to grab her rabbit, too. “I’m gonna put her to bed.” He murmured, and you decided to follow, making sure to retrieve her crayons and half-drawn doodles.
As Mike slowly crept into Abby’s room, he tucked his sister into bed, making sure that she had her stuffed animal, blankets neat around her. You stacked the crayons and drawings back onto her desk, standing at the fringes of the doorway.
Crickets chirped outside as dusk settled like a cool blanket, stars spattered across the night sky. It was peaceful, especially as you watched Mike press a kiss against the top of Abby’s head.
Once he closed the door behind him, the two of you returned to the living room. You were more than happy to help him clean up the pizza remnants and any dishes, folding up the boxes to put into the trash until you were both back on the couch again.
“I’ve had a lot of fun tonight, Mike. Thank you for inviting me over — and for buying me dinner, too.” You mused, the two of you a little closer than before. Labyrinth provided a simple background lull, the volume barely above silent. “Do you want me to pay you back?”
“I’m glad we got to do this again,” Mike felt butterflies erupt within the pit of his stomach. The sudden realization of being alone with you was tantalizing, at best. Gooseflesh spread across the back of his neck, one hand poised atop the arm of the sofa. “Don’t worry about dinner. It’s on me.”
“Okay,” A soft huff of laughter left you as you tilted your head back against the plush material, one hand within your lap as the other dangled uselessly at your side. “Could I ask you something?”
Mike nodded, swallowing the growing lump within this throat. A nervous excitement flared up inside of him, as if a match had been struck. A slick perspiration broke out on his palms — he wanted to tell you everything. About the animatronics, about Garrett, about how he felt about you — and yet, he was afraid. “Anything.”
You briefly chewed at the inside of your cheek, adjusting your position to look at him fully. “Did I do something wrong to cause you to pull away from me?” You asked, voice dropping into a soft lull. It was a question that had been on your mind since this whole rekindling.
“Absolutely not,” Mike blurted, and immediately shook his head. “It’s just — after what happened at the mall, I was afraid of what you’d think of me.” He confessed, dark hues echoing with shame. “Legal issues piled up, I was out of a job. It’s been a lot.”
What do you think of him?
Mike Schmidt was the center of your world for the longest time — and now that he was back, it was as if the Moon had come back into orbit, bright and full again. He was perfectly imperfect in your eyes, and you wouldn’t change anything at all. “Mike,” You mumbled, reaching for his hand as your fingers closed around his own. “I don’t think any less of you. I never have.”
Your skin was smooth, velveteen as he adjusted his grip, fingers twining together as you sat on the couch, closer than ever before. The distance between the both of you was steadily declining, and he didn’t mind. “I felt like I ruined things between us before,” He murmured. “I shouldn’t have pushed you away.”
Your heart thrummed within your chest, beating erratically beneath your breast. A subtle gasp hitched within your throat, producing only a sliver of sound. “You didn’t ruin anything. You’ve been through so much, Mike. I can’t blame you for needing space.”
“I felt like I lost what could have been.” He confessed, voice growing abnormally thick. Mike stared at you with those round, dark eyes of his — they were impossibly beautiful, like an inescapable maze. You wondered what he meant by that — what could have been.
Whatever he meant, you hoped that it meant one thing — something unspoken, the sentiment that lingered between the two of you. It was as if a flame had been stoked, roaring to life again as it steadily consumed the both of you.
“What could’ve been, Mike?” You whispered, absentmindedly rocking closer until your chest nearly bumped into his shoulder.
A saccharine affection glistened within his warm stare, enough to burn a hole right through you as he squeezed your hand. “Us.” He exhaled, jaw clenching and unclenching, a nervous habit of his.
Your lips were melded to his before either of you had a chance to properly absorb the weight of the moment. He was a gentle kisser — so sweet and oozing with compassion that you wanted to drown in it. His week-old stubble scratched against your visage, a sign that this was all very real.
Experience wasn’t a foreign concept for you, but Mike was — he was so tender, as if any movement might break you into pieces. Even his kisses were sluggish, as if he were really taking his time. You couldn’t complain about that whatsoever. You rocked forward, untangling your hands as your digits twisted into his sweater.
“Hey,” Mike breathed, doe-eyed and dazed as he withdrew, mere inches apart from you. “Are you okay with this?” He asked, ensuring that you were comfortable before going any further. He hadn’t had sex — maybe everything before, but nothing further.
“Yeah,” You nodded, keeping your voice low as you felt his arm wrap around you. “Are you? I don’t want you to push anything if you aren’t comfortable.” You murmured, and he shook his head, pressing another soft kiss against your mouth.
His fingers swept across your cheek, caressing along your jaw as he cradled your face within his palm. “I’m fine,” Mike reassured you, but his heartbeat said otherwise. Exhilaration and excitement were mere understatements. Everything else had paled in comparison to you in that moment. “You’re really beautiful.”
A soft wisp of air tore past your parted lips, gaze becoming half-lidded as you repositioned your hands, one slipping against the nape of his neck. The other remained stationary atop his chest, and you leaned in again for another passionate kiss.
Mike was warm — he was everything you’d ever wanted.
Distance became slim, next to nothing as you crawled into his lap, slotted atop one of his thighs as you continued to kiss him. It turned sultry, charged with a more intimate element as one hand settled against your hip, digits toying with the hem of your blouse. His scent was that of cologne and fresh linens, perhaps a hint of something sweet.
He switched the television off, holding you close, chest to chest as you broke away from the kiss. The way he looked at you was mesmerizing to behold — Mike stared at you as if you were some diamond in the rough. You pressed your lips against his cheek, reveling in the way he keened into your embrace.
Your mouth peppered a string of kisses along his jaw, tugging some of his sweater down as you made your way along his neck. A soft, simpering groan escaped him when your mouth met his neck, enough for you to shiver with delight. His hands began to skim underneath your shirt, feeling along your curves.
“S’nice.” Mike mumbled, able to feel the tangible imprint of your smile against his jugular. Admittedly, he hadn’t been kissed like that — he nearly asked for you to do it again, tugging you closer as your mouth crept back up, lips seamlessly melding against his.
He was sweet — you thoroughly enjoyed the way he touched you, with a gallant certainty. There wasn’t a singular domineering bone in his body, and you were all the more grateful for it. You nearly flew out of his lap when you heard a noise from the kitchen.
“Bedroom?” You whispered, watching as Mike nodded, moving up from the couch as he reached for your hand this time. It was a very short skip to his room, which happened to be impeccably clean, just like the rest of the house. It was dark and nondescript, but before you could analyze it all, you felt his hands fly back to your blouse.
You lifted your arms, feeling the weight of the fabric leave your body. Goosebumps followed like a tidal wave, scrawled across your flesh as Mike kissed you again. It never lacked passion — it wasn’t rough nor desiring dominance, just complete and utter sweetness.
Mike was hesitant to confess to being a virgin — it didn’t necessarily matter, but it came back to the whole notion of what you would think. He wasn’t clueless in the slightest, but you deserved to know. Maybe you’d be disappointed.
As you sank down onto the edge of the mattress, he followed suit, clamoring with you until the both of you ended up tangled together atop the pillows. Every kiss was heartachingly sweet, fused together with a blistering tenderness. Your heat tilted, deepening your entanglement as your hands clutched at his sweater.
“I’ve never done this before,” He murmured, prompting you to pause, feeling the weight of his body partially draped on top of you. “Does that bother you?” Mike asked, earthen hues scanning your expression for any sign of hesitancy.
“No, it doesn’t bother me.” In fact, you found it to be endearing — it made everything sweeter. “I’ve done this before. Does that bother you?” It wasn’t something that you wore as a badge of honor. He was a shitty guy anyway, but what happened, happened.
Mike gently shook his head, feeling your fingers slip underneath the hem of his sweater. “Not in the slightest.” He replied, voice barely above a whisper. His hands stilled for a moment, stomach sloshing with excitement and a newfound sense of giddiness. “Can I touch you?”
His asking for consent was sweet — perhaps it was the doe-eyed, affectionate look he had or the soft tone of his voice, or both. Nonetheless, you found yourself enticed, feeling his hands dance around the waistband of your jeans. You were the emboldened one, wriggling out of the snug garment without warning.
“Yes,” You uttered, giving his sweater another urgent tug, wanting to feel more of him. Mike obliged, kneeling between your legs as he removed the emerald-colored garment, letting it join the pile amassing at the foot of his bed. “You’re so pretty.” You sighed, and he blushed.
The compliment did wonders for him, and he became visibly smitten by your words. He was all lean muscle, nothing bulky or grotesque, broad shoulders layered in a light smattering of freckles. “Thanks.” It got him to smile again, dutifully returning to you as he swallowed the growing lump within his throat.
Before you had time to conjure up a playful remark, his mouth was against yours, body closer than before as his hands felt across your form. Your arms draped themselves around his neck, fingers roaming through his dark tresses as you gave them a light tug. It elicited a soft noise from the back of his throat.
He kissed you until your lips were swollen, chasing after that sensation. Even kissing you made him aroused, cock pulsating with a dull throbbing as his thigh nudged against your clothed core. It became increasingly hot and less tactful, kisses devolving into a mess of need — teeth, tongue, and want.
It was his turn to layer the column of your throat in a myriad of kisses, stubble tickling the silky flesh of your neck. Your knees squeezed at his hips, feeling one of his hands knead into your clothed chest, gently groping at your breast. A low moan escaped you, and you only wanted more.
“Keep going.” You encouraged, voice breathy and wrought with a sultry tension. You reached back, hastily fiddling with the clasp of your brassiere, flinging the garment aside. Mike’s visage was permanently tinted with a shade of rose, lips parting as he resumed his touching.
Instead, his hand skimmed lower, and he searched your countenance for any signal of disdain as it dipped beneath the waistline of your panties. Mike’s breath hitched within his throat when he touched you, fingers finding your cunt, already slick with arousal. “More?” He asked, seeking a little bit of guidance.
“Yes,” You groaned, hips canting forward into his embrace, desperate for friction. He provided it to you with a swiftness, hunched over you as two digits slipped past your folds, stroking along your slit. “Mike!” Another simpering whine left you, one hand clutching onto his shoulder.
He was so sweet, like sticky, oozing honey as he pressed a string of kisses along the side of your face, pressing himself closer as his fingers found their rhythm. They slid against your aching core, one circling around your clit, causing you to lurch forward.
Mike appeared surprised when you reached for his belt, hastily unclasping it with one hand. Another pang of excitement struck him as you delved beneath his jeans with a neediness that he so desperately craved. He was starved for contact, ministrations slowing when your hand slipped into his boxers.
His cock twitched, bleeding heat into your palm as you felt around, experimenting at first. There was a dazed, needy look in his eyes, chocolate hues glazed-over by a sheen of want. Desperation was a mere understatement — he was starving, needing the contact like he needed air. You provided, amiable as ever.
“You — You don’t have to,” Mike mumbled, attempting to mask the complete and utter bliss he was feeling in that moment. As your soft palm wrapped around his cock, he let out a guttural whine, forehead pressed into yours. “Jesus.” He groaned, trying to keep his volume at a reasonable octave.
“Don’t stop,” You huffed, feeling him sink lower onto you, heat radiating from your entangled bodies. “Mike, please.” Another moan left you when he resumed in full swing, barely able to focus on pleasuring you and his own state of enjoyment.
As his thumb pressed into your clit, his other digits sought to gently prod at your cunt, beginning to work themselves inside of you. It was perfectly in-tandem with the slow strokes of your palm around his erection, pumping at his length with a scorching level of desire. He was panting in your ear, hips snapping forward into your hand.
It was heat and desire and passion that blossomed between the both of you, like a thick, inescapable haze. His flesh felt dewy beneath your fingertips, which found residence against the nape of his neck, grabbing a fistful of his disheveled tresses.
He was borderline rutting into your thigh, lurching forward into your fist, cock throbbing with a dull ache as you continued to stroke him off. Mike wanted to be loud, but there was a risk involved in that. A needy, sonorous moan left him, ghosting above the shell of your ear as his fingers gently pistoned in and out of your tight cunt.
“You’re perfect,” He breathed, mumbling an incoherent string of sweet nothings into your shoulder. Perspiration crept along the column of your spine, knees occasionally squeezing at Mike’s hips as the two of you touched one another as if it were your last time. “Perfect.” Mike mumbled again.
You tugged on his hair, dragging him closer for another sloppy, obliging kiss, to which he happily reciprocated. You could hear another whimper leave him as your lips clashed, causing you to shudder in delight. He was thrusting himself into your palm, tendrils of precum slick against your fingers.
“Want me to stop?” You mumbled, and he nodded against your shoulder. Mike knew that if you kept it up, he wouldn’t last — and it seemed completely and utterly pathetic if he did so this early on. Your grasp began to slack, hand slipping out of his boxers.
A twinge of disappointment ripped through you when his hand ceased, but it dissipated just as soon as it appeared. Mike’s hands curled into the waistband of your panties, gingerly easing them down along the length of your legs, body slipping lower as he did so. His gaze silently begged for your consent, and you weren’t about to refuse him.
“Is this okay?” Mike murmured, shuddering in delight when your head bobbed up and down several times over in an enthusiastic nod. He hadn’t done this before, but thankfully, it wasn’t difficult — and he was a quick learner. He pressed a trail of benevolent kisses along your thigh, stubble tickling your flesh in the process.
Your throat became thick, feeling his broad shoulders push past your legs, keeping them parted. “Mike,” A sigh of passion left you, hand clamoring to grasp at his tresses yet again. One hand kneaded into the pliant flesh of your thigh, the other splayed atop your hip bone until your fingers found his.
Nervousness swelled within him as he inched closer, feeling some nagging pang of hesitation. He was terrified of disappointing you, but he remembered what you’d said earlier — you’d never think less of him. “Tell me if it’s too much.” A soft utterance emerged from him before he dipped inward, breath hot as it fanned across your thighs.
Not in the slightest.
His tongue raked hot embers across your cunt, stoking the flame that burned bright within the pit of your stomach. Mike’s head became foggy with lust, swimming with desire as he kept a more exploratory pace. Your honeyed scent wafted around him, dragging him in again as he laps at your slit.
You were in disbelief — he hadn’t done this before? It almost prompted you to ask, but his mouth happened to rip those thoughts right out of your skull. A soft barrage of licks lashing against your cunt had you squirming, hips rolling forward into his mouth. A low moan left the both of you, fingers perusing through his mop of dark curls.
A myriad of whimpers left your parted lips, causing Mike to shift against the mattress, hips grinding forward to relieve some of the friction. His cock strained against his boxers, finding pleasure just in giving it all to you.
A thin layer of dewy perspiration broke out along your flesh, provided by the continuous wave of heat drifting between the both of you. Your thighs quivered as warmth pooled between your thighs, and Mike was there to kiss it all better, tongue trailing over your cunt again and again, stubble prickling at your soft flesh.
He wanted to be inside of you so bad — there was an ache present, one that only you could cure. Mike wanted to savor you, drunk upon your very being as a soft groan left him. Your digits continued to tug on his tresses, causing him to keen forward, lips pursing around your clit.
“S—Shit, Mike!” You mewled, attempting to keep your volume at a hushed octave. It was proving to be increasingly difficult, writhing against him as he hunched inward, nearly forgetting to breathe.
Mike inhaled, kissing the inside of your thigh as he dutifully lapped at your slit again. He alternated between your wet cunt and clit, suckling on the sensitive clutch of nerves. His jaw clenched, hips jolting into the mattress again as he haplessly tried to relieve some of the mounting tension.
Your chest heaved with a myriad of throaty, high-pitched whimpers as he sucked on your clit, stars rippling past your vision. No one had ever gone down on you with such reverence and passion before, but now that you’d gotten a taste, you wanted more.
Jesus — his resolve crumbled with every sound you made, each cant of your hips as you rocked into his mouth. Mike let out a whimper — he almost hoped that you didn’t hear how pathetic it sounded, continuing to lap at your core until you were seeing white.
That coil began to unfurl, blistering heat coursing through you, a white-hot rush of sheer ecstasy that caused you to moan and cry out. Mike continued to sweetly embrace your cunt, lips lightly kissing at your clit. Your body rattled like a leaf, tremors of your orgasm shooting through you.
“I need you,” Mike huffed, his voice strung-out with lust, hoarse and throaty as his fingers clamped into the pliant flesh of your hips. “Please.” You were on the cusp of cumming, hopelessly aroused by his sweet pleas as you lifted his head away, enough for him to look at you.
Those sweet, doe-like eyes of his were dilated with desire, his expression one of sheer desperation, breathing having sped up. You sat up on your elbows, enthralled by the way he hovered between your legs like a ravenous man. “You can have me,” You murmured. “Always.”
Mike sprung into action, hastily tearing his jeans off as he crawled up the length of your body, pressing a string of appreciative kisses against your velveteen skin. “You’ll stop me, right?” He inquired, nearly rendered speechless when you hitched a leg around his waist, fingers grasping at his shoulders.
“Yeah,” You nodded, feeling his fingertips ghost along your hairline, idly pushing disheveled strands aside before he stooped in for a kiss. You had no intention of stopping him whatsoever, reciprocating his affections before you plucked at the waistband of his boxers. “Just go at your own pace, okay?”
He was filled with longing, bursting at the seams as he freed his cock from its confines. He feared that he wouldn’t last long at all if he went this extra mile, but there was no turning back. Mike didn’t want to turn back, either. A moan rippled through him as he dragged the head of his length through your folds.
It reminded you of a feral animal — his countenance glistened with an ardent sensuality, pupils blown-out with lust as he slowly pushed himself inside of you. Admittedly, you loved that Mike was so needy — and he wasn’t ashamed of it, either. He lacked a single ounce of dominance, even if he was on top of you.
“You feel so good,” You moaned, forehead pressed against his own as he began to move, hips awkwardly snapping forward. It was a rocky, unstable rhythm, but you didn’t mind it in the slightest. “Mike,” A wanton sigh left you as your hands found his tresses once more.
Mike’s mouth brushed against yours, thrusting himself inside of you as he gained a rather sluggish pace. His cock throbbed uncomfortably, yearning for a release as he rocked forward again. Another low-pitched whine left him when you tugged on his hair. “I—It’s perfect.” He panted, flesh searing and damp.
His head dropped toward your collarbone, face buried within the crook between your neck and shoulder. A shudder rolled down the length of his spine as you coaxed him close, hips occasionally grinding into his pelvis, creating a friction that he wanted to chase after.
A string of incoherent babbles escaped him, enigmatic and so very breathy, hot skin melding against your own body. His pace became borderline erratic, as if he didn’t know what fit — he just wanted to be inside of you. It felt euphoric, feeling your cunt tighten around his cock as he rutted into you.
Ecstasy blistered through him like a tidal wave, and he almost felt dizzy, fucking into you at a constantly-shifting pace. He alternated from sluggish to swift, unsure of what felt right, but you were mewling into his ear. You showered him with sweetly-spoken praises, mouth seeking his lips for another messy kiss.
Mike’s hips continued to snap forward, cock aching as he neared his release. Your hand snaked between the both of you, thumb circling your clit as he bucked forward again, releasing another groan. “M’close.” Mike huffed, giving you ample forewarning as he kept up the pace.
“Please cum for me,” It was needlessly filthy, the command that tore past your mouth, but it certainly evoked a strong reaction from him. He stammered, letting out a whine as he fucked into you with a lazy passion. “Cum in me, Mike.” You moaned.
He didn’t know if he heard you right, but he rutted into you again and again, cock pulsing with warmth as he came. Mike pulled out halfway through, painting your thigh in hot ropes of his cum, flesh blazing with embarrassment.
Even in the blissful aftermath, he couldn’t help but apologize for the mess. “Sorry,” He was blushing, chest heaving with excitement as he regained his composure, slowly but surely. The rush and exhilarating thrill was still present as he rolled off of the bed, scrambling to retrieve a washcloth from his bathroom. “Here.”
His apology was endearing — sickly-sweet, too. You cleaned yourself off, making sure that the cloth ended up in the dirty laundry. You were sitting up just enough for him to press in behind you, feeling his lips pepper themselves along your spine.
You twisted around, curling into his arms as you draped yourself on top of him, swollen lips coaxing him in for an achingly tender kiss. It was pure bliss — it lacked the crazed desire from earlier, lust dissipating into affection instead. “Are you sure you’ve never done that before?” You mumbled against his mouth.
“Positive,” Mike assured, hiking the sheets up over the both of you, watching as you wormed your way into one of his t-shirts. “You’re really beautiful.” He murmured, digits stroking at your hair, caressing around your temples as you perched your chin atop his chest.
“So are you.” Your smile became saccharine, entranced by your brown-eyed paramour. “Your eyes are pretty,” You uttered, hands splaying themselves out against his chest as he held you close. “So warm.”
Crimson saturated his features as he accepted your doting compliments without question. He wasn’t used to it, but he could adjust. Your lips were swift this time, melding together in a seamless kiss as he took his time, committing every detail of you to memory. “Stay with me?” He murmured, palm lightly caressing at the back of your head.
“Of course.” You settled, limbs tangled together beneath the sheets as you made yourself comfortable within his arms. It was something that you weren’t bound to forget about anytime soon, dozing off to the sound of his steady breathing.
It was the best he’d slept in ages.
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laaailuh · 2 years ago
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-TROPHY WIFE🏀
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-pairing: basketball player!e42 miles x fem!black!reader
-genre: fluff
-summary: What it’s like to date Visions Academy’s most prominent basketball player.
a/n: After I wrote my fic “He's got a whole fan club” this came into mind. Like cmon, earth 42 miles would totally be a hooper. Also, this is my first time doing headcannons, kinda scared.
a/n 2: For the people who have requested, I haven’t forgotten about you.
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MILES MORALES who asks you to braid his hair for him, the day before a game.
MILES MORALES who sneaks you into the locker room just to get some extra time with you.
"I'm going to get in trouble." "Ma chill, the boys aren't even here." "But-" "No buts, I wanna spend some time with my girl before I whoop some niggas asses on the court."
MILES MORALES who gets upset if he sees other guys/players approach you at his game.
“What did he say to you baby?” “He just wanted his water bottle that was beside me.” “Nah, he was tryin’ start something with you.”
MILES MORALES who will go all out and play more aggressively if he knows you'll be there.
MILES MORALES who lets you know if he's at practice so you don't think he's ignoring your texts and calls.
MILES MORALES who makes a shot and says “this one’s for my girl” which most of the time goes in. However, if he misses, his whole team will clown/tease him for it.
“How you gon’ airball in front of y/n man? Straight embarrassing.” “Nigga shut up, I had that on lock.” “Clearly you didn't.”
MILES MORALES who wears a bracelet with your initials on it when he plays, claims it gives him good luck.
MILES MORALES who barely uses his social media but when he does, it's only to post you and his basketball highlights.
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MILES MORALES who will reassure you that he is fully and utterly committed to you if you start to feel jealous or annoyed at the amount of female attention he was getting.
“No te preocupes por ellos princesa (don't worry about them princess), you know I only want you.”
Being MILES MORALES girlfriend wasn't easy, a lot of the girls envied or despised you, wishing it was them in your place.
MILES MORALES is never afraid of showing affection towards you in front of a large crowd. This involves kissing, hugging, exchanging small glances and pointing at you when he makes a shot. 
MILES MORALES who likes receiving massages to help him unwind and relax after an intense game. Nonetheless, it usually ends in a makeout session due to him not being able to resist you. 
“I thought you wanted a massage.” “I did but it aint' enough.” “So what is?” “Kissing you mami.”
MILES MORALES can be a sore loser if he doesn't win a game. If his team gets defeated, he will most likely go see you straight after because you're the only person that can properly comfort him.
MILES MORALES who likes to take you to the basketball court late at night. Instead of a traditional dinner or movie date, you often find yourselves shooting hoops or playing one-on-one games together. 
MILES MORALES who likes to talk/think about the future with you.
“When I make it pro, you don't gotta worry bout a thing anymore.” “What do you mean?” “I’m gonna take care of you baby. Anything you want, it's yours.”
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dae-chwiita · 3 months ago
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Blood Stained Words
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Pairing : Jongho x reader
Summary : Jongho hasn’t talked to you in month since you got a boyfriend, but when he see’s him getting touchy with you while you’re uncomfortable, he stops thinking and it quickly escalate, ending up on the sidewalk with you having to hold bloody tissues to his face.
Warning : insults, some arguing and fighting, really really long oops but other than that PURE FLUFF
A/N : so, this is my first long fic this might be really bad I’m so sorry y'all🙏 also my first Jongho fic?!! I’m scared this will flop because my boy seems so unpopular, i see barely any solo fic of him so i hope the three Jongho x reader enjoyer will come trough on this one😔 I’ve been spending way too much time on this so, not really proofread, sorry ‘bout that, they will be some mistake guys! hope you’ll enjoy this even if I’m scared this is BAD we’ll see ig
The club was a blur of neon lights and throbbing music, but Jongho’s mind was miles away. It wasn’t the chaos around him that consumed him—it was you. He watched as you laughed with Wooyoung and Yunho, the sound of your voice floating above the bass of the music, causing his chest to ache. There was a sadness in his heart, a quiet longing that grew stronger each time you smiled, each time you touched Mingi’s arm, each time he saw the way your attention shifted away from him.
It had been months since he had allowed his feelings for you to surface. Months of pretending, of watching from the sidelines as you moved on from him, from your friendship, as you fell for someone else and not him. And now, standing in this crowded club, he realized that pretending was no longer enough. He couldn’t stand the sight of this Beom guy pulling you closer, brushing his hand against your waist with that cocky, possessive grin. It was too much. He tried his best to focus on the conversation he was having with Wooyoung and Yunho, but his eyes didn’t seem obedient this evening.
When Beom’s hand slid down your back, the moment of contact lasting a little too long, Jongho’s blood boiled. He could see how uncomfortable you were, how you were clearly trying to shift away from him, but you didn’t have the strength to push him away. He saw your fingers twitch, your body tense as you subtly tried to remove his touch, but Beom wasn’t giving in. Jongho’s instincts flared. He couldn’t just stand here and watch this. Not when he knew how you felt—he could see it in your eyes. He didn’t know why you were avoiding your boyfriend touch -probably an argument, like you always seemed to have- by he knew that it made him lose his sanity when he saw you like that.
“Jongho?” Wooyoung’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts. He glanced over, only to see Wooyoung’s concerned expression. He followed his friend’s gaze to where you were with Beom.
“Oh no.“ Wooyoung sighed.
“Did they argue again or something?“ Yunho asked after also turning his head.
“Well…“ His voice grew serious as his eyes flickered between Jongho and you. “They kinda, broke up a few days ago and he seems drunk so…“
Jongho froze, confusion clouding his thoughts. What? Beom and you had broken up?
“Yeah, don’t get too close.“ Wooyoung whispered to Jungho firmly. “She’s still sorting everything out.“ His voice was quiet, cautious, but his eyes were filled with a mix of understanding and concern.
Jongho’s chest tightened at the news. His stomach churned with a mixture of relief and guilt. You and Beom were done, and yet here he was, stuck in his own silence, unable to make his move. The thought of you, the person he cared about more than anything, being in this position—uncomfortable, vulnerable—made him sick. He couldn’t just sit and watch you get harassed.
Without another word, he pushed past his two friends, Wooyoung calling out to him to come back while Yunho smushed him quickly. Walking toward you, his fist clenched, determined to do something about it. His heart raced in his chest as he moved through the crowd. The sight of Beom’s hand still on your waist, holding you like he had a right to, made something inside Jongho snap.
“Hey, Beom.” Jongho called out, his voice sharp and steady.
He turned, eyes narrowing at the sound of Jongho’s voice. His lips curled into a smirk when he saw who it was. “What’s up, little guy?” he asked, his tone nonchalant, but there was a slight edge to it.
“You need to let go of her.“ Jongho said, his voice quiet but firm. He stepped closer, his fists trembling at his sides. “You’re making her uncomfortable.”
Beom’s eyes flickered over to you, his expression suddenly cold. His hand dropped from your waist, but his body language didn’t change.
“What’s your problem?” he sneered, his posture challenging. “What, you think you can tell me what to do with her?”
“You don’t get to touch her like that." Jongho’s gaze hardened, his pulse quickening. "Not anymore.”
The tension between them was palpable. The music from the club blared around them, but it was as though the noise faded away. Jongho’s focus was solely on Beom, on the anger building in his chest. But Beom wasn’t backing down, he rarely did. He’s taller than Jongho and looks way more intimitading. He took a step forward, his eyes blazing.
“You think you can just waltz in here and act like you own her?” Beom spat, stepping even closer. “She’s not yours. She’s mine.”
“Beom, don’t-“ You finally said, coming out of of your shock to Jongho appearance.
Before you could finish or Jongho could respond, Beom shoved him hard in the chest, and he stumbled back, barely managing to catch himself on a nearby table full of bottles. His heart raced, but he didn’t let Beom see the effect it had on him. Some people turned their heads to the sound of the table scratching on the ground, making you look around nervously.
“You’ve always been in the way!” Beom growled, and Jongho felt his stomach twist in anger. “Always hovering around her like you’re her fucking hero. You’re the reason we broke up, you know that?!”
The words hit Jongho like a punch to the gut. His mind raced, trying to process what Beom was saying. It’s my fault? The pain in his chest deepened, and before he could gather his thoughts, Beom threw a punch that landed squarely on his nose, making you gasp in horror.
The impact was sharp. Pain exploded in Jongho’s face, and for a split second, the world spun around him. Blood poured from his nose, his vision blurring as he staggered backward.
“Jongho!” You shouted, your voice panicked, but Beom was already approaching him again. “Fuck off you dick! Before security come drag your ass out of here!“
He looked at you, surprised by your sudden anger. He scoffed, leaving Jongho standing there in shock, his nose bleeding. He stumbled, disoriented, but it was you grabbed his arm, steadying him. You quickly helped him to go outside, pushing harshly through people laughing and hollering at both of you, your hands supporting him as the adrenaline surged through his veins.
“Are you okay?” you asked, your voice laced with worry.
Your hands were gentle but firm, trying to stop the blood from continuing to flow. The way you touched him, so careful, so tender, only made his heart race faster. Jongho didn’t respond. He was too overwhelmed by the combination of pain and the realization that you were here, close to him, your trembling hands covered with blood holding his nose. For the first time in months, you were touching him again.
You hurried him outside of the club to the pavement, away from the noise and chaos, and helped him sit down on the side walk. The cold air hit his face, and his breath came in ragged gasps as he tried to compose himself. But he couldn’t stop thinking about how close you were, how your fingers had brushed his skin, how your hands had steadied him. He barely registered what you were saying as you frantically wiped his face with tissues you got from your bag, trying to stop the bleeding.
All he could do was stare at you.
His mind was a blur of emotions, of everything he had kept hidden for so long. His heart hammered in his chest as you scolded him, your voice trembling with concern.
“Jongho, what the hell were you thinking?!” you ramble, your voice thick with worry as you dab at his nose. “You shouldn’t have come talk to to him at all!”
He didn’t respond. He couldn’t. All he could do was focus on the feeling of your hands touching him. The warmth of your fingers as they carefully dabbed at his nose, the way your hands gently cupped his face as you tilted his head up to meet your eyes. His breath hitched, his heart pounding faster, and all he could do was stare at you, too afraid to speak. You continued to scold him softly, your words a blur in his ears as his eyes traced every inch of your face. The way your hair cascaded around your shoulders, the way your eyes flickered between the bloodied tissues and his face with such tenderness. He hadn’t realized how badly he’d missed this—the softness of your touch, the care in your eyes, the closeness of your presence.
I’ve missed this, Jongho thought, his pulse racing. I’ve missed you so much.
His chest tightened with every passing second, and he felt like his heart was going to burst from how much he wanted you. He didn’t know what to say, didn’t know how to explain how he felt. All he could do was watch you, trying to hold onto every moment. Your fingers brushed the back of his head, gently moving through his hair, and he swore his heart stopped. His breath hitched in his throat, and his eyes fluttered shut as he leaned into your touch, desperate for more. He couldn’t believe this was happening. After all the months of pretending, of keeping his distance, of silently suffering as you pulled away from him… You’re here. You’re touching him again.
“Jongho…” you murmured softly, your voice barely above a whisper. “Why did you do that? Why did you let Beom get to you like that?”
Jongho didn’t have the words. He couldn’t explain it. He just knew that in this moment, with your hand still gently cradling his face, he couldn’t help but feel like everything had finally come into focus.
“I didn’t want to lose you.” he confessed, his voice shaky. His heart was hammering so loudly in his chest that he wasn’t sure you could even hear him. “You seemed so uncomfortable, I didn’t even recognize you with how much your face was distorted from disgust ad anger.“
You paused, your gaze softening as you looked at him, your fingers still gently caressing the back of his neck, a quick smile appearing before you downed again. You leaned closer, your forehead almost touching his as you spoke.
“I don’t want to lose you either.” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “So stop being stupid like that.
The words hung in the air between you, heavy and meaningful, and for a long moment, neither of you spoke. All that existed was the soft sound of your breath and the feeling of your hands on his skin, grounding him in the moment. Jongho’s heart raced faster and faster, every second making him feel more desperate for you. His entire body was screaming for your touch, for your affection, for the closeness that he had missed for so long.
“I love you.” he whispered, his voice breaking, filled with emotion.
Your eyes widened, and for a moment, there was nothing but silence. But then, slowly, you smiled, your lips softening, and you kissed his forehead gently.
Jongho’s heart was racing. His confession, the words that had been trapped inside him for so long, had escaped his mouth before he could stop them. The moment the words "I love you" left his lips, he froze, wide-eyed, realizing what he had just said. His heart skipped a beat, and a heat bloomed across his chest. He cursed himself silently under his breath. His face flushed crimson as he quickly turned his head away, his heart pounding faster than ever. He reached up and wiped the blood from his nose with the back of his hand, but he was too flustered to even make sense of the situation. He hadn’t meant to say that aloud. He hadn’t even thought about how it might affect you. He didn’t want to make things more awkward than they already were. He just… he just wanted you to know how he felt.
Your hands, gentle as always, slowly dropped from his face. The tissues you had been holding, now stained with blood, fell onto the pavement as he moved away, wanting to escape the moment, escape your eyes. How desperate for you he is to blur out the L word only because your touching and talking to him after not doing it for only a few months…
"Jongho." you called out softly, concern and affection still laced in your voice. "You're still bleeding, come here."
But Jongho, in his embarrassment, couldn't bear to meet your gaze. He buried his face in his knees, hiding from you as his heart hammered in his chest. The blood continued to drip, but the only thing that mattered to him in that moment was the way you had looked at him. It was too much. He wants to disappear in the old concrete and be walked on for the rest of his life.
You sighed, clearly exasperated by his antics, but there was still a tenderness in your tone. "Jongho, you're putting blood all over your jeans."
He didn't respond. The weight of his confession and his growing panic made his mind race. What if you didn’t feel the same? What if this ruined everything between us? You were clearly ignoring what he just said. trying to ignore the subject while he was acting like a stupid teenager who just got touched by. Girl for the first time in his life. He couldn’t even bear to look up. He wanted to disappear, to erase what he had just said…Why weren’t you talking anymore? Did you leave? Or couldn’t he hear your voice anymore because of how loudly his heart was hitting in his chest? He wanted to look up, but his head was glued to his knees. The silence between you both was unbearable. It felt like time was standing still, the tension thick in the air.
The silence dragged on for what felt like an eternity, until Jongho couldn’t take it anymore. He slowly, hesitantly, lifted his head, blinking rapidly as his eyes found yours. He nearly jumped in shock when he saw you squatting in front of him, your face now right in front of his. Your eyes were focused entirely on him, intense but not unkind, and it made him freeze once again. Jongho tried to look away, his cheeks still burning as bright as the smeared blood on his face, but your hand reached out and gently grasped his chin. With a firmness that made his heart race even faster, you tilted his head back, forcing him to meet your gaze.
“Do you know why Beom said that?” you asked softly, your voice still calm but with an underlying seriousness. “Do you know why he said it was your fault that we broke up?”
Jongho's breath hitched, and he felt his heart skip a beat. He opened his mouth to respond, but his voice caught in his throat. He swallowed hard, unable to form the words. He only managed to shake his head in answer, telling you that he didn’t. You didn’t seem to be upset by his silence, instead you continued to look at him with understanding, your fingers gently tracing the line of his jaw. The way you looked at him made him feel vulnerable, like every emotion he had been hiding for so long was suddenly on display for you to see.
“You don’t know…” you said, your voice soft. “It’s because when we stopped talking, you and me… when we stopped seeing each other as much, all I did was talk about you. I talked about you all the time. About how much I missed you, about the things I wanted to say to you.”
Jongho’s heart tightened in his chest. He didn’t know what to say. He had never imagined that you would talk about him like that. His mind was swirling, trying to grasp everything you were telling him, but he couldn’t make sense of it all. He wanted to interrupt you, to tell you that he had missed you too, but your words held him captive.
“There were times when Beom got so frustrated.” you continued, your eyes darkening slightly with the memory. “He’d accuse me of being obsessed with you, of wanting to date you, and it started arguments. But I didn’t know how to stop. All I could think about was you.”
You paused for a moment, and the silence between you both deepened. Jongho’s breath caught in his throat. He could feel the weight of your confession, the rawness of the emotions you were revealing, your way of saying I love you. And even though he was still processing everything, a part of him couldn’t help but feel relieved. He wasn’t alone in his feelings. He wasn’t the only one who had been holding on to something for so long. he wasn’t the only one to be so desperate. You leaned in a little closer, your gaze steady, unwavering.
“It got to the point where I realized Beom was right.” you said, your voice a little quieter now, almost as if you were confessing something deeply personal. “I hadn’t let you go. I hadn’t stopped thinking about you, Jongho. And that’s why we broke up.”
Jongho’s eyes widened at your words, and his heart slammed against his chest for the hundredth time but sometime, with a new force. His throat was dry, and for a moment, his brain stoped working. The realization hit him like a tidal wave—You had broken up with Beom because of him- no, for him. He wasn’t sure what he had expected, but it certainly wasn’t this. Everything he had been holding back, everything he had been too scared to admit, suddenly felt too real. The ache in his heart that had been gnawing at him for so long now made sense. You had been feeling the same way. He distanced himself for you for months because o how much he needed you, how he felt too much for you, only for it to be reciprocated. How stupid and happy he feels.
“Jongho, I don’t want to pretend anymore.“ You reached out, your fingers gently brushing against his cheek as you spoke again, your voice soft but steady, bringing him back to reality. “I don’t want to hide how I feel. I don’t want to hide from you.”
He swallowed hard, his hands shaking as he lifted them to his sides. His mind raced, and the sudden realization of what was happening made everything feel surreal. You were confessing too. You were telling him what he had been dying to hear for so long, but still, he couldn’t believe it.
“I’m sorry…” he whispered, his voice low and full of emotion. “I’m so sorry for not saying anything sooner.”
You shook your head, a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips as you finally hear his voice again.
“You don’t need to apologize. We both took too long for what was right in front of us.”
For a brief moment, everything seemed to quiet down. Jongho could barely breathe, his heart pounding in his chest as he watched you, still holding his face so gently. All the doubts, the fears, the confusion—it all melted away. Finally, the truth was out there. You and Jongho, both desperate for each other, both aching for something real, something that had been buried too long. And as he looked into your eyes, he could feel the distance between you closing. It was like something in him finally clicked, and all the tension, all the pain he had carried, finally started to release.
“I love you.” Jongho whispered again, his voice trembling. “I’ve always loved you.“
Jongho’s breath hitched again, this time much more pronounced, as he struggled to form his next words. His hands were trembling, barely able to stay steady by his sides. The weight of everything he had kept inside for so long was finally pushing its way to the surface. He felt like his chest was going to collapse under the pressure of the emotions, of the longing, the desperation, the love that had been simmering beneath the surface for what felt like an eternity. He reached up, almost as if instinctually, and gripped your wrist where it rested against his cheek. His fingers were warm, shaky, desperate. His eyes were brimming with so many unsaid things, looking into yours like he was searching for some kind of reassurance. But you didn’t need to say anything. He could see it in your eyes, feel it in the way you were holding him, the way you were there, really there with him, after everything that had happened.
“I… I don’t even know where to start.“ Jongho whispered hoarsely, his voice thick with emotion. He swallowed hard, his throat dry, as if the words had been stuck in his chest for too long, refusing to come out. He whipped his nose with the back of sleeve quickly, feeling the blood drying.
“I’ve spent the past year trying to ignore this feeling… trying to hide it from you, from myself. I thought maybe it would go away, but it never did. I kept hoping, praying… that one day I’d be able to tell you everything. That I could find the courage. But the more I tried to push it down, the worse it got. And the more I saw you with Beom, the more I hated myself. I hated the way I couldn't tell you what I felt. Hated how you were slipping away from me, even though I knew it was my fault.”
His voice wavered as he spoke, and the words poured out in a broken stream, as if they had been waiting to escape for so long. His hands tightened on your wrist, his grip almost painful, but you didn’t pull away. You didn’t even flinch. You just let him say it all, let him feel everything he needed to feel.
“I’ve never stopped thinking about you. Not for a single moment. Not even when we were so far apart, when I thought you didn’t even notice me anymore.” he continued, his eyes wet with unshed tears, the rawness in his voice cutting through the quiet air between you both. “You’ve always been there in my heart, in my mind… and I didn’t know how to deal with it. I tried to act like it wasn’t affecting me, like it didn’t matter, but it does, it matters more than anything. You matter more than anything, and I can’t keep pretending like I’m okay when I’m not. When I’m broken inside because you’re not here with me. Because I was too fucking scared to admit that I need you. That I want you in a way I can't even explain."
He took a shaky breath, trying to calm himself, but it only made the ache in his chest more unbearable. The tears that had been threatening to fall were now pooling in his eyes, his heart aching with every word.
“Do you have any idea how much it hurt?” he whispered, his voice barely audible, but filled with so much longing, so much raw, unfiltered emotion. “Every time you laughed, every time you smiled… every time I heard your voice and I couldn’t be the one to make you smile like that. Every time I saw you with him, and I couldn’t hold you like he could, couldn’t tell you how much I wanted you to be happy… but I couldn’t even give you that. I couldn’t even give you the one thing that you needed from me because… just because I was too afraid. Afraid that if I told you how I felt, I’d lose you.”
His breath hitched again, a broken sound escaping his lips. “And when you started talking to me less and less as you started talking to Beom more, I thought I was losing you for good. I thought you were slipping away, and I couldn’t do anything to stop it. I just stood there, watching it happen. I just… watched you go. And I knew, deep down, it was my fault. Because I couldn’t tell you that I needed you. That I loved you. That I’ve always loved you, way longer than he did.“
The words hung heavy between you both, but Jongho wasn’t finished. He couldn’t stop. He couldn’t hold it in any longer. His body trembled with the force of his emotions, and his eyes, glassy and filled with a deep ache, locked onto yours with a desperate intensity.
“I love you." he repeated again, as if he couldn’t stop himself from saying it with how much he felt it, but this time it was more than just words. It was a confession of everything he had been too afraid to say.
"I’ve loved you for so long, and I didn’t know how to show it. But I can’t hide it anymore. I can’t pretend anymore, because it’s killing me. I don’t want to lose you. I don’t want to watch you walk away from me again. I just need you to know… that I love you, even when I didn’t have the courage to say it.”
He paused for a moment, his hands still gripping yours like a lifeline, his gaze never leaving yours. He was trembling now, his voice thick with emotion, but there was a sense of relief in his words, like he had finally let go of the weight that had been suffocating him.
"I don't know what to do without you." he continued, his voice barely above a whisper, raw and full of yearning. "I thought I could move on, I thought I could just forget you, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t ever forget you. You’re all I think about. Every damn day. I want you in my life, more than anything. I don’t care if it’s messy, I don’t care if it’s hard—I just want you, with me, in my life."
His eyes were pleading now, desperate for you to understand, to see how much he meant every single word. His entire body was tense, like a coiled spring, ready to unravel if you didn’t say something. His heart was in his throat, beating erratically, and every time you blinked, it felt like his world was crashing down.
“I know I’ve made mistakes," he said softly, his voice trembling with vulnerability. "But if you’ll let me… if you’ll just give me a chance… I swear I’ll never let you go again. I don’t care how long it takes… I’ll wait for you, I’ll fight for you, I’ll do whatever it takes to make you see that I can love you the way you deserve.”
Jongho’s voice cracked with the final words, his emotions finally spilling over. Tears welled up in his eyes, but he didn’t try to hide them. He let them fall freely, because they were the only honest thing left in him. He had been so afraid, so terrified to show his feelings, but now, in front of you, with all his walls broken down, he had nothing left to hide.
“Jongho…” you began, your eyes welling up with tears, but before you could say anything more, his grip on your wrist faltered. His eyes darted downward, and suddenly his face was crumpling into an almost comical grimace.
“Oh, no.” he groaned, leaning back slightly. “I think my nose is starting again.”
“What? Seriously?” you exclaimed, glancing down to see a fresh trickle of red beginning to drip. “Jongho, for the love of—hold still!”
“I thought it was done!” he whined, his voice nasally as he tilted his head back again.
“Yeah, well, that’s what happens when you decide to give a Shakespearean love monologue in the middle of an injury!” you shot back, grabbing more tissues from your bag.
He laughed despite himself, the sound muffled as you pressed the tissues to his nose. “This is not how I pictured this going.”
“You don’t say.” you teased, rolling your eyes. “Next time, maybe confess your feelings after you’ve stopped bleeding everywhere.”
“Noted.” he sighed, his heart calming, his eyes crinkling at the corners despite the absurdity of it all. “Still… was it really that bad?”
You paused for a moment, your expression softening as you met his gaze. “No.” you said quietly, a small smile tugging at your lips. “It was perfect. Bloody nose and all.”
And for the first time that night, you saw the tension in his shoulders ease, replaced by something softer—something hopeful.
“You really mean all that?” You asked, looking sheepishly at him.
He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he nodded. “Every word.“ he said, his voice thick with emotion. “I know I should’ve said it sooner. But I need you to know—”
“Stop.” you interrupted gently, your thumb brushing against his cheek where the tear tracks glistened. “Just… stop beating yourself up. You’re here now. That’s what matters.”
“You’re not mad…?” Jongho asked softly, his wide, wet eyes searching yours.
“Oh, I’m mad!” you said, though there was no real heat in your tone. “I’m mad you let him hit you. I’m mad you didn’t duck.”
He let out a weak chuckle, but his smile faltered as he studied your face. “I just didn’t want him to hurt you. I’d take a hundred punches if it meant keeping you safe.”
Your breath hitched, and for a moment, you couldn’t look away. “Jongho.” you said quietly, your voice trembling as you let your hand fall from his face, the bloody tissue being discarded to the side with the rest. “I don’t need you to take punches for me. I just need you. I need you here, safe, with me.”
His lips parted in surprise, but you pressed on, your heart pounding in your chest. “I love you, Jongho, and seeing you like this—hurt because of me—only made me realize how much.”
For a moment, he just stared at you, his eyes shimmering with tears, before a smile broke across his face. “You…“
“Yes.” you said softly, a small, teary laugh escaping. “I love you. Even with the bloody nose and all.”
He laughed, the sound filled with disbelief and relief. “Good. Because I love you too.”
“Yeah, yeah, I got that with how many times you’ve said it.” you snort, pressing the tissue back to his nose with a stupid grin on your face. “Now hold still before you bleed all over me again.”
“I think I’ll bleed again when Wooyoung punches me for disappearing like that.“
You stop moving, fear shinning in your eyes. “Oh fuck.“
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nicoscheer · 5 days ago
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We’ve been blessed with an entire HOUR of interview
I’ll be honest I’ve frankly got no clue according to which criteria I’ve picked the moments, just somes I felt were nice, funny or interesting
3:44 his uncle, his dads brother had a pub called RAT AND PARROT (everything you’ve come to expect)
10:32 “I was wanking into oatmilk” you was doing what into what now ?! 🥛🫣
None of them being able to let the other finish their sentence is fucking hilarious 😂
19:56 “1994 I was 8 … or 10”; my mans you were born in 86 please tell me how you could have possibly been 10 years old fucking early onset dementia
20:20 “I’m a kinky fuck”
21:47 “I’m into therapy and psychology and how you deal with situations”
38:45 “he’ll be me bro till I die” (bout Alex)
49:45 “there was always a picture of Al Pacino on the friDge” (his voice just jumped three fuckin octaves there for a sec)
50:44 just the sound and face he made 🥹🥹
54:38 “whatever I’m feeling I’m doing”
55:01 IMMEDIATELY going for Penne al’arrabiata and then cottage pie as comfort food
55:17 just look at that endearing face
56:07 bit of this or that (Liverpool vs London)
58:02 YESS to him kissing both of them on the cheek
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Little goat headbutt
That darling 🥹🫠🫶🏽
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starryhyuck · 5 months ago
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vanilla & honey. (m) — PATREON EXCLUSIVE
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pairing: alpha!mark x afab!omega!reader
words: 3.3k+
summary: what are you supposed to do when mark lee asks you to help him through his rut?
genre: smut
warnings: a/b/o dynamics, biting, knotting, breeding kink, talks of mating/marking, pussy eating, creampie
this fic is exclusive to the $5 tier on my patreon, which you can access here! below is a tumblr preview
Mr. and Mrs. Lee tidy up the guest room for you to stay over the weekend despite you being the only non-Lee family member invited overnight. You entertain Seojeong’s ramblings about the random alpha again before heading to bed, snuggling under the comforter and dreaming about Mrs. Lee’s pancakes that will inevitably welcome you in the morning.
You’re startled, however, by Seojeong frantically shaking you awake in the middle of the night. You slowly open your eyes, making out your best friend’s fuzzy figure hovering above you. The collar of her shirt is pulled up to her nose and your first instinct is to locate the source of the smell, but the only odor passing through the air is warm vanilla and honey.
“Mark started his rut unexpectedly,” Seojeong explains. “We’re all evacuating to my uncle’s house down the street. Do you want me to help you pack a bag?”
“His rut?” You murmur, rubbing your eyes to fight the sleep off. “Why would he come this weekend if he was going to be in that state?”
An alpha’s rut is often characterized by bouts of anger, the overwhelming need to claim their territory, and of course, the constant urge to stick their knot into any omega they come across. Any respectful alpha should know how uncomfortable their behavior could be for any person in a six mile radius, which is why it’s necessary for them to shelter in place until their rut subsides. You’re astonished that Mark wouldn’t bother to take that courtesy considering he’s the most polite alpha you know.
“I don’t think he was planning for it to happen this weekend,” Seojeong says with a knowing look in her gaze. You don’t push her on the subject, but she stares at you warily. “Do you not smell that?”
You tilt your head up and sniff, but the supposed foul scent Mark must be emitting doesn’t filter through.
“Smell what? It smells so good I want to fall right back to sleep.”
She blinks at you before asking, “Have you ever helped an alpha through their rut before?” Her voice shifts into the timid one she uses when she’s embarrassed.
“What?” You hiss, appalled by her question. Seojeong’s never been so direct with you before. “Why would you ask me that?”
Seojeong’s mother strolls into the room, a mask covering the lower half of her face to also shield herself from the presumed stench.
“Are you girls ready to go?” She asks, a duffel bag slung over her shoulder.
Seojeong looks back at her. “She said she doesn’t smell anything, mom.”
“Oh… Oh. I see. Maybe you should stay behind then, if it doesn’t bother you. Seojeong’s uncle’s house is much smaller than ours, so you would definitely be more comfortable here, honey,” she says while throwing Seojeong a suspicious glance. Seojeong stares back at her with raised eyebrows.
“A-Are you sure?” You question, befuddled by their abrupt change in behavior.
“Yes, of course. You can make sure Mark eats his meals as well. I’m worried about him, and it makes me feel better knowing that you’re here to take care of him.”
You watch Seojeong’s family pile out of the house one-by-one, each omega giving you a sly smile and each alpha smirking as they pass you by. You remain confused by their knowing looks, feeling like you’re on the opposite end of a wicked inside joke.
want to read the rest? access the $5 tier on my patreon here!
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ronearoundblindly · 1 year ago
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Hideout (4.2)
touch-starved!Nomad Steve Rogers x motel employee!Reader
Horny Teen, part two (see previous or series)
Summary: A late-summer heat wave hits you and Steve hard.
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Warnings for smut (kinda unprotected sex, momentarily--guess that's dubcon to be safe--fingering, lots of foreplay things and dirty talk but Steve can't actually talk dirty, so...hot talk? IDK, gang, I 'bout died writing this. Prepare thy loins, babes). MINORS DNI. There is plenty for you to read on my Light Masterlist, but this series is not for you! WC 3.1k
A/N: This part contains a cannibalized version of the original idea for this series, but since we've developed differently to this point, it is very different.
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He calls ahead. For the first time in a year of visiting, he calls ahead and knows you aren’t working the night he’ll be here.
You work in the garden as long as you can stand before hopping in a cool shower. You aren’t even wrapped in a towel when the trill of your room phone—extension 14, as Steve now knows it—blares through multiple closed doors.
He’s checked-in, and in Room Two, but no pressure, if you want, if you don’t have plans, he’s here. It is the most adorable and awkwardest conversation of all time. It also never gets old to hear him scramble for the simplest of sentiments.
Translation: I’m excited to see you.
Your heart soars then immediately stalls in the stifling weather.
“I’ll be down in a few minutes,” you chuckle.
Of course, he opens his arms for a bear hug the instant the door labeled ‘2’ swings wide. Steve has fewer troubles with platonic affection when alone, that’s for sure, but who could blame him? You’re elated he’s here under any circumstances.
Record-setting heat this late in the summer has left all the AC units taxed to the brink, running constantly, and even with the in-room thermostat set stupidly low, a tank top and shorts is too much.
This means another first: both of you, in bed, naked.
Nothing’s happened, mind, because the swelter of the day zapped energy out of every creature for miles and miles around. The ice machine can’t keep up with eight rooms and your family needing relief from the blaze. From the bright stripe of red across Steve’s cheeks and his earthy musk, he was outside plenty. He’s wiped, too.
You wonder absently when the last time he wore cologne was and what it smelled like. Perhaps he never used it. Perhaps he misses small luxuries more than he ever realized.
Steve looks on the brink of heat-stroke, so you inched yourself onto one side of the bed to start, thinking skin-to-skin contact might be unwelcome. You barely got your palms on the sheets before he pulled you to him. You did not fight it.
It’s meant to be a profound comfort—your weight atop him—and it is.
Your cheek settles on his chest, eyes watching through the sheer curtains as dusk takes over the sky, a happy man stretched like a cat beneath you, smiling, heart beat slowing in your ear. So strong, so steady, so secure.
He’s safe. He’s comfortable. That’s all that matters.
You peer up from your perch. The thin worry lines on his forehead have relaxed. He seems younger. Freedom looks good on Steve Rogers, just as good as it looks on Captain America, maybe better.
You fall asleep straddling his hips, one knee hitched so the crook of your ankle drapes his thigh, slowly pushed up and down by his deep breaths.
You’re drifting, rocked gently by powerful waves in the nothingness of your blank mind, free like him, blooming in the warmth of a bright sun embracing you.
The glow continues until Steve gently shakes you awake.
The room is pitch black, the lights of the parking lot too muted to pass through the gossamer layer over the window.
“You’re…you were squirming a lot. Thought you might be having a nightmare,” his rough timber booms close to your ear.
“No, I—“ you wipe at your face “—I don’t think I was dreaming.”
Steve’s not so relaxed under you now. His abs quake slightly, and those slow breaths have become stunted, shallow with control.
“Did you?” you ask, looking towards his face, useless in the dark but your drowsy brain hasn’t caught up yet.
There’s a shuffling noise above you.
“Is that a ‘yes?’ Did you have a nightmare? You alright?”
The shuffling repeats, accompanied by a strangled “yes,” and you lift your arm to brace on his chest. It unhooks your leg from his, and the hard length of his erection moves from its perch at your ass, nudging the joint of your hip and thigh from below.
“Not—not a nightmare,” he whispers. “Just ignore it.”
Steve’s voice is husky, his grip on the back of your knee tight and unyielding, keeping you from trapping him between your legs.
Your impulse is to soothe him, to tell him he is fine and it is okay to be turned on, generally, when naked and pressed to someone you find attractive—hell, you definitely are—but if he wants you to ignore it, if he’d rather not, if it’s too soon or too hot (metaphorically, physically) or just too much right now, then you respect that. None of this has ever been about making him feel like how he chooses to receive affection is wrong.
Without moving any limbs, your fingers retract and relax, a gentle, nailless scratch to his broad pec beneath your hand, and his cock twitches, tapping your leg.
“Sorry,” Steve huffs.
“Do you want me to get off of you?” You suppress the urge to make a minor edit in that statement because it’s very close to what you want to do.
The shuffling noise sounds different.
“No,” he says softly.
You slide your hand up his chest to his neck and around the back of his head, petting the corner of his bearded jaw just below his ear, careful to use as few muscles as possible.
His cock taps you again anyway. “Sorry,” he mumbles.
You ignore it, as asked, and continue scratching lightly at his scalp.
“Hey,” you start in the darkness, “is this comfortable?”
You run your fingertips over his features while he nods, following his jaw up and down. 
Unable to see, this paints the most vivid picture of Steve’s reactions. You feel the vibration of a hum through his cheek, the draw and release of his brow as you skate over his forehead. You hear his short chuckle when you brush ever-so-gently across his long lashes and boop his nose. Finally, you trace his open-mouth smile with the edge of your thumb, his ragged exhale rushing over your palm.
Tap.
“Sorry.”
“Comfy though?”
His voice is deeper than you’ve ever heard it. “Yeah.”
The drag of your fingers past the edge of bristly stubble and down his throat makes him shiver.
Twitch.
“Sorry.”
You flutter across his collarbone, wondering if that means he’s ticklish on more than just his sides.
“Comfy?”
He hums. You feel it rattle your cheek as much as you actually hear it in your ears.
You continue. His corded muscles giving only slightly to the pressure of your touch. His arm, his chest, down to the hand he keeps on your leg.
Several more breathy apologies sound above you. Steve’s other arm is draped over your waist, and with every pulse of need that betrays him, his grip tightens just a little. His fingers now dig into your soft flesh absently.
It’s hard to hide how desperate he’s made you, but the issue is mutual based on how his abs won’t stop tensing, searching for attention where he denies it. 
You flatten your hand to his chest and make to move.
“May I?”
Steve’s swallow is louder than the ‘okay’ he returns.
You are careful not to push him in any weird angles as you raise up to your knees and straddle him, pinning his erection beneath you, not directly between your folds but nestled at the apex of your legs, just so he won’t have to worry about every involuntary poke. 
With such fresh contact, he clenches his ass hard in response, lifting your whole weight completely before he settles again. The surge of heat to your core has you biting your lip to muffle a moan.
“Comfy?” you rasp at the same moment Steve offers a strangled “sorry.”
The low, constant whine of the air conditioner fills the hollow space around your cocoon of anticipation.
“New plan,” you laugh, relaxing your fingers to splay across his warm skin, “both of us stop doing that, huh? You have nothing to be sorry for, and I’ll trust you to tell me if you aren’t comfortable.”
“So…” Steve shuffles on the sheets, but whatever he moves doesn’t affect your position. “Can I touch you?”
You bite your lip harder before answering, your voice dropping to a sweet reassurance. “Yes. Of course you can, Stevie.”
You keep your pets of his chest and arms light, trying not to tickle him. He’s always so hesitant; you’re worried the tiniest misstep will send him back into his head—not in a good way.
The silence now feels purposeful, dense with possibility, and then rough fingertips land like a foreign explorer who’s braved months at sea solely to experience this moment.
A calculated inhale and exhale rock your pelvis, a wave of nerves foaming in your gut.
He starts innocently enough, mapping your thighs, muttering something about how soft they are, but you don’t dare lean to hear him better. No sudden movements. None. Even though your skin lights up as explosive as those 4th of July fireworks you missed.
Since there’s nothing to see in the room, you feel everything.
He keeps to the periphery of you at first, abandoning your legs to brush the same arms touching him, running fingers together, separating them just as quickly, caressing your palms gently, and dragging his short nails up your wrists without pressure.
You stiffen in pleasure, fighting not to shrink away from the purest intimacy you’ve ever experienced.
His long arms reach the curve of your shoulders, flit across your collarbone, and you’re doing your damndest to keep it together, leaning your head back in lieu of talking.
Don’t scare him.
It can’t last; you’re only human.
Steve’s hands slowly descend over your breasts, middle fingers catching your peaking nipples, and a lewd and aching cry tumbles from your bitten lips.
The force of it surprises you, but more surprising still is him, unfazed, encouraged to linger.
In that low timber, he growls.
“You like that… Knew you would.”
Your body throbs, pulsing with need and emptiness.
That means he thinks of you. He’s imagined this. He’s wanted this.
Stunning electricity shoots through your body as he pinches and twists, squeezes and kneads. Nothing too harsh, but he’s highly motivated when you purr and gasp atop him.
What else does he think about doing? How long has he fantasized? Is this as good as his imagination?
Yours aren’t the only noises now. He sounds tortured with little pleas and whimpers escaping before each guttural moan.
Arousal pools at your folds, and without realizing you started to move, the shy momentum of your hips has nudged his length to lay flush with your dripping center. His tip glides over your clit.
Again and again.
Again and again.
A hot pressure builds in you, faster than ever, kerosene dumped on your wet-dreams and burned to life, a spell manifest in the night.
Steve shakes beneath the palms you brace flat on his chest, the heels digging into his diaphragm.
He moves to grip your thighs hard.
Fire spreads beneath your skin as you two pant and gasp, his whole cock slick and slotted so close to where you truly long for him.
“Wait,” Steve groans, but you can’t understand.
No one could imagine how good this feels, how much you need this, how—
He sits up to stop you, accidentally notching himself at your entrance, your residual motion sliding the thick head of him past the that first, tight ring.
Steve’s lusty moan is barely eclipsed by your own, and you’re too close to halt sheathing him within you, arms instinctively wrapping his shoulders. Desire winds the coil in your belly too taut, the thought of losing this climax unbearable.
“N-uhhh god—“
He’s too sensitive though. He flips you both so your back crashes to the soft sheets and digs his grip into your side, his other hand thumping to anchor on the headboard. Steve sucks air through his teeth like he’s afraid the faintest smell of sex will set him off.
“Don—don’t move,” he orders in thick command.
It makes things worse.
You’re so close, vaulting off the ground and suspended by legs clamped around his waist, dangling on the precipice of ecstasy. You whine and clench, totally unable to control yourself, your nails digging into his back.
Steve cries out, choked at the hilt by your desperation and lost to his own finish.
His hand races from your side to your ass. He pulls out of you only to slot himself there and thrust his cock between your cheeks, cum shooting on the sheets below.
Mindlessly, you ride the cut of his abs, his course pubic hair adding almost enough friction to keep ascending toward your own end, but the void left behind is too consuming. The fire sputters and dims.
Steve buries his face in your neck, breath cooling the sweat lining your skin as he curls away from you, overwhelmed.
“Swear I was gonna wait,” he confesses to the tender spot behind your ear. “I swear.”
“Please,” you croak, tears prickling your eyes in lament for your ruined orgasm.
“Was gonna be better. Swear I’ll do better for you.”
You grope and claw at those thick arms which hold all but his face far away. “Please,” you beg pathetically, “fucking touch me, please.”
A drawn out grunt vibrates the column of your throat.
“Y’shouldn’t have ta beg...”
He shifts to his forearm, caging you in as you plead over and over. He kneels to hover, and your thighs weakly squeeze at his own to emphasize what you need.
“Sounds so pretty when you do…”
Something between a screech and a snarl erupts from your chest.
Steve shushes you, smoothing a big hand across your damp cheek, and quietly, he commands you, “show me what to do.”
Your quivering hold guides him by the wrist down your body. Words to instruct him won’t form in your sex-steeped brain. As luck would have it, he doesn’t need specifics.
“Next time I’ll taste you.” One finger teases your folds in search of his entrance. “Next time you’ll have to beg me to stop.” Two fingers drive forward, displacing a gush of your shared juices. “So wet,” he groans, agonized to silence when you jerk his hand to thrust faster.
“More.” 
He sets a loving and delicate pace, the heel of his palm working your clit. 
Too delicate.
“More,” you gasp.
He obliges, muttering how good he’ll be to you from now on. You’ll always be first. He promises.
The fire takes over again.
“More, Stevie. Please.”
You grind down on him to prove your point, and he marvels that this isn’t too rough for you.
Each strangled breath ties your moans together in a crescendo worthy of Carnegie Hall.
“God,” he rumbles by your ear again, “I know that sound. You’re close, aren’t you?”
Steve’s pumping fingers bully your body farther and farther up the bed, using only a taste of his real strength.
Your chant of ‘yes’ catches in your taxed lungs. He doesn’t need an answer though.
The super-stretched band snaps, a plateau of peace and weightlessness tipped at the vertex until—crash—nerves are razed all along you like a carpet-bombed battlefield.
“Uhnn, is that what you’re gonna feel like around me?” He sighs at the thought and stills his hand just to commit the ripple to memory. “How’m I s’pose to last?”
You slap a hand over his mouth, trying and failing to hold in your yelp of relief.
That mouth…that fucking mouth of his is a weapon all its own.
Tiny explosions wreak havoc on you, body and soul, as his fingers greedily coax you to keep coming—just a little more—just for him—one last rush—give him everything.
His lips open in your palm, but you grip his face harder.
You can’t. You can’t listen right now. You can’t hear one more dangerously sexy, completely innocent thing fall from his beautiful mouth.
Steve lets his hand go lax but doesn’t take it away from your clenched and spasming thighs.
He tries to speak again then gives up, waiting.
Finally, before you can collapse boneless to the bed, he hooks his arm behind your leg so you don’t land on the cold, cum-stained sheets.
He shakes off your forgotten grip of his jaw.
“Tops?” he whispers, patience personified in the long pause before you hum acknowledgment. “Can I kiss you?”
That fucking mouth…
There’s barely enough breath in you to make a sound, but the instant the ‘ye—’ forms in the back of your throat, Steve’s lips are on yours.
It's your first real kiss, of all the ways, after all this time, following all that.
You’d laugh if you weren’t smiling, suffocating in the gentle press that becomes deep and adoring. He kisses you thoroughly after each frantic gasp for air, savoring you, even in the reckless passion of the moment.
Steve rolls to lay you atop him again, more intimately than before. He keeps his face close, sharing breath even in the heat and stench of sex in the room, your wetness now smeared from his navel to his knee.
Turns out, he is a very good kisser, focusing on the act of physical connection. Not only do your lips touch, but he likes to nudge you into whatever minutely different position with his nose. He likes to nuzzle his beard on your sensitive skin until you giggle and squirm. He relishes you like you relish him. 
He whispers things too soft to make out at first. It takes him a while to find his voice, to push past his insecurities, to find his confidence, but eventually, you hear it.
He mumbles how he should have been better, more prepared.
You weave all your fingers through his hair, propped on his chest by your elbows, smiling so he’ll be able to tell in your tone.
“Take the win, Cap.” 
You freeze.
You’ve never called him that, and Steve stays silent for an excruciating beat.
“Sorry,” you offer in the dark, air conditioner churning out sobering drafts of reality.
Steve runs his knuckles gently in patterns across your bare back. There’s a short huff and an amused snort, you mind scrambling to plan some explanation as to why you’d haul the drama of out there into his safe space.
He guides you to settle against him again, tucking you into his strong hold with his chin resting on your forehead.
After what feels like an eternity, he simply asks, “comfy?”
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A/N: In case you were wondering...
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[Next part: Desperate Man, part one]
[Main Masterlist; Ko-Fi]
@supraveng @1950schick @patzammit @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @yiiiikesmish @ashesofblackroses @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @brandycranby @buckysprettybaby @ellethespaceunicorn @rogersbarber @bucky-fricking-barnes-reads @fallinallinmendes @mrsevans90 @lemonadygirl
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tvgals · 2 years ago
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ੈ✩‧₊˚ THE GIRL WITH THE J’S .
— a new girl at school piques miles interest when she shows up everyday with a new pair of j’s.
— e42! miles morales x black! fem! reader
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miles watched you as you walked across the room to the teachers desk, a fresh pair of cement 3’s on your feet. you had your lace front in a claw clip style, your diamond earrings on display for everyone to see. you gave the teacher a note with whatever was written on it and walked past miles to get to your seat — your vanilla scent following you. “damn.” miles whispered. there was something about you. it was only your third week at visions and you were already friends with almost everyone. not just because of your looks and fashion sense, but also because of your personality and humor. you sat three chairs behind miles, it bums him out that he can’t admire you all the time but he does what he can to get by. miles rips out a page from his notebook and writes on it.
‘ where you be getting them shoes from? - miles ‘
miles turned around and told the girl behind it to pass it down to you, she repeats until it finally gets to you. you scrunch your face up when you see the paper fall onto your desk and open it up. you bit back a smile and wrote back, adding a smiley face on the end.
‘ retail, the goat, and snkrs when they drop :) ‘
you pass it forward and it makes it to miles, not without your teacher noticing and telling miles to hand it over. “miles, just give it to me.” she groans, her hand out in impatience. “no. it ain’t bothering you none.” miles shrugs, shoving the paper in his pocket. “fine, no paper? detention for the next two days.” the teacher said, miles face stone cold. when class was over, you waited for miles outside the classroom, flicking him on the back of his head. “why didn’t you just give her the paper?” you ask, walking next to miles while he rubbed the back of his head. “i can’t share our secrets!” miles defended himself, a half smirk on his face. “bro, she wears vans.” you say back, miles giggling at your comment. “see you at lunch?” you ask, walking into ela. “you know it.” miles replied, walking to his next class. while miles was walking down the hall, one of his friends came up next to him and starts talking nonsense — until he starts babbling about you.
“yooo! you know y/n, right?” he asks, his hands holding onto the straps of his backpack. “yeah, what about her?” miles asks, cocking a brow. “i’m thinkin’ ‘bout asking her to the movies or some shi’. just tryna get to her.” he shrugs. miles feels a bubbly feeling in his stomach. he doesn’t know what it is or why he’s feeling like this. i mean, you weren’t his girlfriend, so anyone could ask you out if they wanted to.
“uhh. i mean, do whatever you want.” miles says, his nonchalant tone a stark contrast as to how he was really feeling. “you won’t be mad? i mean, i know you like her ‘nd allat shi’.” he airily laughed, walking into spanish class with miles. “yeah, yeah. ion really care like that.” another lie. miles did care. with his whole heart, actually. “good.”
-
the second day miles really started to talk to you was the day you showed up with a pair of thunders on your feet. it was the second or third day after they’d come out and even miles hadn’t got them yet. before you were able to walk past him, he stopped you. “where you get them from?” miles ask, pointing to your shoes. “i got them the day they came out. just lucky i guess.” you shrugged with a smile on your face. miles couldn’t help but smile back with a weak nod and an “okay.” you walk to your seat and left miles a swooning mess.
-
after spanish was over, the two of you walk to lunch together peacefully. that was until miles’ friend had came up to you trying to spit game at you. “yo, y/n?” he says, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. “hm?” you hum in response — clearly uninterested. “how bout i take you out sometime? we can go to the movies and..y’know.” he said, bringing his hand down to your waist. “uhh..i actually can’t. me and miles have plans for the next few weeks.” you lied, moving his arm back to his side.
“awl. what you and miles doin’?” he asked, curiousity laced in his tone. “we got projects and stuff. and next week he’s actually taking me to the movies.” you said, holding miles hand for extra effect.
“real shit.” miles grins, internally laughing at how everything was working in his favor. “awe. aight. i gotchu later though.” he said, walking away in shame. you turn to miles with a cheeky grin on your face, miles returns the same look. “you’re a good liar.” miles said, letting go of your hand and wrapping his own arm around your shoulders.
“i know.”
TAGLIST ;— @looking4chanel @draculara-vonvamp @therealcees-blog @laylasbunbunny@lovelytayy @d7n3 @deadgirlkisses @darkknightpeanutbagel @thecoloredpages @xricly @chinaza444 @princesslilisworld @baboon-milk333 @marcelineormars @mxspiderman2099 @23victoria @ravereina @stevenknightmarc @laaailuh @madz-rulez @planetspiderzz @chinieh @asensitivecookie @tourbug @anikaluv @mainvamp
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luvjunie · 2 years ago
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i need a miles 42 x plus size reader any plot can work 😭
— headcanons. miles with a plus size reader
a/n: i really really hope i did these justice anon im so sorry if i didn’t! for my plus size lovies 🫶🏽
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• He is in loveee with your body. Infatuated with every curve, every roll, every stretch mark. Everything that comes with you. He literally compliments you until you get tired of it, and you know it’s genuine just off how he looks at you.
• Encourages you to wear the clothes that you’ve been too scared to go out in. The ones that have been sitting in your closet for ages because you claim “they’re not for your body type”.
• He thinks that’s absolute bullshit and got mad when you told him that. Not at you, but at the fact that you genuinely believed something like that were true. He never lets you talk badly about yourself.
“Fuck you mean they’re not for your body type?” “That’s bullshit, ma. don’t let me hear that again. You look good in everything.”
• For the first few months of your relationship you refused to sit on his lap. He didn’t press you about it because he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, but eventually he caught on to what you were doing. And now he doesn’t ask you anymore, he just grabs your arm and pulls you into it.
“Stop it, baby. Don’t get up, I want you here.”
• Has bought a few oversized hoodies specifically so when you go through his closet you can find one that doesn’t just “fit” but is baggy on you, too. He didn’t understand why that was important at first, because you fit his other hoodies just fine, but when he asked, you got a little flustered and told him it was just a girl thing, and that it was stupid so he shouldn’t worry about it. He thought the opposite, though, because if something mattered to you it mattered to him. He went out and bought some the next day.
• Loves to go shopping with you so you have a second opinion in the dressing room. Often times you’re quick to shut down a potential purchase, because for some reason you just don’t see what he does when you look in the mirror.
“Baby, do you like this or does it look weird on me?” “Mhmm, definitely get that one.”
“What about these?” “Lord have mercy I’m bout to—“. “Miles!” “My bad. That was gon’ be a yes, by the way.”
• Will get up and make your plate for you at a family party just in case you’re anxious about doing it yourself or worried about potential looks you might (you won’t) get.
“What you want mama, chicken or pork?” “….” “If you don’t choose I’ll give you both.” “Umm, chicken, please.” “You want rice?” “No, I’m alright.” “Alright, so yes to rice then. You want some pasta, too?” “Miles, I think I have enough on my plate. I don’t wanna take too much…” “Nah, mami. My family not like that. You gotta try everything or they’re gonna try and feed you themselves.”
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redstarwriting · 2 years ago
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the clash | x. brand new
hobie brown x goth!reader
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word count: 2k
genre: enemies to lovers
warnings:  language, insults, mentions of everything that happened in the story, almost fainting, soft hobie, big fluff energy, essentially just a fun lil chapter above everything else to wash away the angst
a/n: AND IT'S OVER!! i'm actually crying a bit this was so fun to write. it will not be the end! you can all bet your asses i'll be working on a sequel for this duo. thank you to everyone who supported the story and my writing. you made the return back to this blog unforgettable and i am so grateful for all of you 🖤 please enjoy the last chapter of 'the clash'
previous chapter: ix. last caress
now reading: x. brand new
end.
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After about 3 more days, you were feeling much better. Hobie was too, as he didn’t need to keep giving blood. In fact, the two of you were basically back to your normal selves. And much to Hobie’s relief, changing your molecular biology did not take away your spider powers. So now he had a partner in crime. Or partner in crime fighting?
Nah, partner in crime sounds better.
“Ready to go, love?” Hobie asks, pouring some food into Shadow’s bowl before closing the bag and webbing it to the ceiling. Shadow runs and starts chomping and Hobie grins, giving him a few pets. “Ready, babe,” you say, coming into to the room. Hobie stands and looks at you, letting out a long whistle. “You look stunnin’,” he says, looking you up and down. You twirl around, showing off how your spider suit looks in the style of his world. Your mask wask lost, so you had to make a new one, but that was no problem. You and Hobie fixed it up, and you gave in to Hobie’s pleas to make it resemble his a bit. Only a bit. You’re still Spider-Goth after all.
He walks over to you and wraps his arms around you. “The spiked choker is a nice touch, who convinced you to put that on? And the studs on your mask? Whoever helped you add them seems like a smart bloke,” he smirks. “You know he’s more of a smartass, but I guess I don’t hate it. The spider charm on the choker is a nice touch,” you say, taking the mask off and winking at him. “You not hatin’ somethin’? Now that is bloody mental.”
“Look who’s talking,” you say and he grins, giving your lips a quick peck before pulling away from you. “Haven’t the foggiest what you’re talkin’ bout, love.” He types on his watch and pulls up Earth-2099, the portal appearing in front of the two of you.
“I’m still so surprised Gwen, Miles, and Pav didn’t try to come to see us this whole time,” you say, and Hobie shrugs. “So am I, but I reckon they understood you were close to dyin’. And I may have threatened them that I’d kill ‘em if they came and woke you up at any point. Guess they took me seriously,” he says, and you playfully smack his arm. “Of course they took you seriously! You literally killed yourself for me, and that was before we even–”
“Fancied each other yeah, yeah, I know,” he cuts you off, grinning at you. “Ready?” he asks again, making sure you’re up to seeing everyone. You nod, and he wraps his arm around your shoulders. “Off we go, then,” he says as the two of you walk through the portal, ending up in Miguel’s hub. “Lemme know if you feel sick or anythin’, yeah? We’ll go right back home,” he says, and you nod. “Thanks, babe,” you say, and he places a quick peck on the top of your head. The two of you walk out and multiple spider-people greet you and welcome you back. “I feel offended none of them have complimented you on your new look,” he says, and you laugh. “Relax, Hobie, I’m sure Miles will be so jealous.”
“And that’s all that matters,” he says, and you shake your head. “You know it would be so faster if we webbed to the common room,” you suggest, and he shakes his head. “Absolutely fuckin’ not. Have you lost the plot? You’re doin’ better, yeah, but you ain’t close to healed. We’re takin’ things nice and slow,” he says, and you roll your eyes. “Getting used to the way you talk is gonna take a minute,” you say, shaking your head and he rolls his eyes. “I called you mental just now. Crazy, insane, unhinged–”
“Got it, you fuckin’ tosser,” you imitate his accent, and he removes his arm from your shoulder, giving you an offended look. “Do you know what to just said to me?”
“Nope, but the plan worked, bye!” you say, waving and webbing away. “HEY! BLOODY HELL!” you hear him scream, webbing after you. Even though you haven’t been in action for about a week, you’re still way faster than him. You laugh as he tries to catch up, but you slip out of his grasp every time. A lot of spiders see this happening and are relieved and happy to see the two of you back and wreaking havoc amongst each other. You beat him to the common room, landing and waiting for him. He lands right next to you a few second after you. “Are you bloody mad?!” he says, clearly exasperated, “I told you not to do that yet! What if you sparked out?!”
“Well, whatever that means, I didn’t.”
“Bloody fainted! What if you did?!”
“Relax, I’m not going to– oh, shit,” you suddenly feel very dizzy, and he wraps his arms around you to keep you from falling. “See. This is the shit I was tryin’ to avoid, but no. You had to go and be a bloody daftie,” he mumbles, and you giggle. “Your reaction was worth it.”
“Oh, I bet it was, ya fuckin’ muppet,” he rolls his eyes, and you grin at him. “Do you feel well enough to stand?”
“Probably but I like it better when you’re like this,” you say, and he gives you an unamused look. “Right, then,” he says, picking you up and tossing you over his shoulder. You loudly protest. “Nuh uh, don’t give me that now, love,” he turns his attention towards the room, and to his chagrin sees Pavitr recording it on his phone. He rolls his eyes and plops you down on the couch. “Don’t move.”
“I do what I want.”
“Not today, you don’t.”
“Glad to see the two of you haven’t changed at all. Nice new suit, by the way, (Y/n),” Miles says, and Hobie sits next to you, placing his arm on the back of the couch behind you as you chirp out a thank you to Miles. “Why would we?” Hobie says, and Miles stares at him, dumbfounded. “Oh, I don’t know, maybe because you went feral just to protect their ass and they nearly died because of it and then you nearly died trying to save them after they nearly died and then we nearly died trying to help you so that they didn’t nearly die,” Miles says, and Gwen looks at him, nodding. “Nice description.”
“Thanks,” Miles says, smiling at her. Hobie shrugs, looking at you. “All in a day’s work of bein’ Spider-Man,” he says, and you snort. “You’re impossible, Hobie,” you say, leaning against his shoulder. His arm slides from the couch to having it lazily rest around your shoulders. “Good,” he says with a small smile. “Pav, stop taking pictures,” Gwen says, and he shakes his head. “How can I not?! I have been calling this since the first minute they interacted, you all called me crazy, I’m not crazy! I knew it!”
“Congrats, you want a prize?” Hobie says, and Pav smiles. “Yes, actually, I do. I’m aware you’re probably being sarcastic, but I believe I deserve some sort of recognition for recognizing what you two really were,” he says, and you laugh. “You’re the most emotionally intelligent of us all, Pav,” you say, and he nods. “You’re right. I so am,” he says, and Gwen smiles at the two of you. “I’m happy for you two.”
“Thanks, Gwen,” you say, and Hobie softly grins at you. “Woah! Look who’s back!” Peter B. Parker’s voice rings out as he lands next to you all. Mayday reaches you for you, and Peter hands her over. She gives you a little hug, and you smile. “And Hobie with his arm around you, nice. Nice. Nothing brings you and your partner together like a near-death experience. Trust me, I would know,” he says, and Hobie raises an eyebrow at him. “Didn’t that almost ruin your–”
“Welp, this was a nice talk,” he says, webbing Mayday back to him, and putting her in her carrier. “Catch you later, kids,” he says, webbing away with a short squeal from Mayday. “He is so fuckin’ odd,” Hobie mumbles, and you laugh. “It’s cute how much he loves MJ, though. The definition of til death do us part,” you say, and Hobie glances at you. “Yeah… but not as cute as us,” he whispers in your ear, causing you to look at him with a smile. “Nah, what did you just say to them?” Miles says, and Hobie shrugs. “Wouldn’t you like to know,” he says, and Miles rolls his eyes. “Nah, man, that’s not fair. Share with the class,” Miles says, and Pavitr sighs loudly, shaking his head. “Please Miles. It’s simply the way a boyfriend speaks to his partner.”
“Woah, now, who said I was their boyfriend?” Hobie asks, and they all look at him like he’s just grown a second head. “WHAT?! ARE YOU SERIOUSLY TELLING ME YOU TWO ARE NOT DATING AFTER EVERYTHING THAT HAS JUST HAPPENED?!” Pav shrieks at the same time as Miles yelling, “OH, I DON’T KNOW MAN, MAYBE THE FACT THAT Y’ALL LIVE TOGETHER AND ARE ALL UP ON EACH OTHER RIGHT NOW?”
“Chill,” Hobie says, putting the palm of his hand out and you snort. “We hate labels, guys.”
“It’s more of a ‘they’re mine’ and ‘I’m theirs’ typa thing,” Hobie says. “You can totally call it a relationship, or whatever you want to call it, though. We just aren’t putting a label on it,” you say, and Hobie nods. “You two are so cool,” Gwen says, and Hobie smirks. “We know.”
“So, I can still say you two are partners and that will be okay?” Pav asks, and Hobie shrugs. “Whatever, mate. We know what we are, so have your fun.”
“This isn’t like one of those situationships, right? Because those are totally unhealthy and not cool,” Miles says, not so subtly glancing at Gwen, and Hobie shakes his head. “Nah. Like I said, we know what we are.”
“Yeah, it’s like you said Miles. He wouldn’t just go feral to protect my ass and then when I nearly die because of it he nearly dies trying to save me after I nearly die and then have our friends nearly die trying to help him so that I didn’t die just for a situationship,” you say, putting a heavy layer of disgust on the term. Miles looks around at everyone before nodding. “Yeah. Yeah, that makes perfect sense.”
“Hobie, (Y/n), can I see you two for a minute?” Miguel appears, pulling the two of you away from your friends. You glance at each other but get off the couch and walk over to him regardless. “How are the both of you feeling?”
“Fine,” Hobie says, and you nod. “Yeah, totally ready to jump back in whenever.”
“Uh, no. No, you’re not able to do that yet,” Hobie says, and you groan. Hobie turns his attention to Miguel. “They’re not ready for that. They almost lost consciousness after webbin’ over here,” Hobie says, and Miguel chuckles slightly. “Well, Dr. Brown, let me know when (Y/n) is ready to get back into the swing of things–”
“Bloody awful pun there, mate. And don’t call me that.”
“–and– hey, that was a great pun, okay?” Miguel diverts his attention, pointing at Hobie with a frown. Hobie just shakes his head, and mouths ‘No, it wasn’t’ at you, causing you to laugh. “Just let me know when they’re better. We’ll continue our training,” Miguel says, and Hobie suddenly gets protective. “What for?”
“Nothing in particular. Mainly to just get their head back into the game. Make it so Spider-Punk and Spider-Goth are unstoppable forces of nature in New London. Happy to see you up and about, (Y/n). And Hobie,” Miguel says, looking at him, “Good job. It’s good to know I can rely on you.” Miguel webs away, and Hobie groans as you laugh. “You just got praise from the boss!”
“Piss off!”
“I got you promoted!”
“Come off it!”
“Never!”
“I hate you,” he says, but the smile on his lips betrays his words. You laugh. “I hate you, more.” He smiles, leaning in and kissing you, not caring who’s watching.
“PAV! STOP TAKING PICTURES!”
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fabled-fiction · 2 years ago
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Absence Makes the Heart Grow Fonder (Hobie Brown x Spider!Reader)
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Summary: When Hobie hasn’t seen you in a while, he starts to come to the realization that he might be missing you for the wrong reasons. So when you come back, all those feelings reasons come bubbling up to the surface.
Word Count: 2.5k
Warnings: MINOR SPIDERVERSE SPOILERS
A/N: This kinda took a mind of its own, but I LOVED writing every second of it. Hope you enjoy it!! ☺️
Request by @its-me-ig-101: I was wondering if I could request for you to write a fluff Hobie Brown x GN reader, where the reader visits Hobie in his universe, or reverse? (Kind of like what Gwen does)
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It had been 127 days since he last saw you,
14 since you last spoke.
It wasn’t like he was counting or anything. Nah…no he was completely able to be his own person. I mean, he had a whole Earth to protect as Spiderman.
But if he was being honest with himself, he didn’t think four months apart would take such a toll on him.
You both were just always together. It didn’t cross his mind that there could be more than two to  three days of you being away…from him especially. Gwen always joked about how quickly you both became so close so quickly. How Hobie was usually a steel trap and you were the key.
And he couldn’t even visit you! You were away on Spider business! Miguel had you consistently going after anomalies. It didn’t help that you had an insanely good success rate. Hell! Hobie couldn’t remember the last time you didn’t catch one of the anomalies!
“I’m sure they’ll be back soon! This is the ultimate test before the big question! Will their relationship prevail over this unexpected test?!”
Pavitr placed his hand on his chest, spinning around before collapsing onto Hobie's bed, where he was currently lounging. His fingers fiddled with his watch, flicking through all the channels. Maybe if he clicked on the right one, he would end up on the Earth where you were. Miguel had stopped telling him what Earth you were visiting, knowing he would just tag along. But Hobie could come up with something on the fly, he didn’t give a damn at this point if Miguel was pissed at him for interrupting your mission.
He would like to see him try and keep you from him any longer at this point.
“Hello, Earth to Hobie. Hey!”
Catching the plush that Gwen had thrown at him, he huffed and sat up. Pav smiled when he caught a glimpse at Hobie’s watch, and the roulette wheel of universes were still going. 
“ Dude, they’re fine! (Y/N) is like…an invincible spider.”
“You know why he’s being more quiet than usual! He’s realizing he’s in looove. Our Hobie is head over he-” A well shot pillow from Hobie landed Pavitr on the floor.
“Am I not allowed to miss a friend? I remember ‘ow upset you were whenever you’d talk ‘bout Miles.” He scoffed, crossing his arms. He smirked when he saw how red Gwen’s face got.
“Ooooh we’re starting to enter the grumpy Hobie stage!” Pav shot up into a sitting position, this time dodging the second pillow that he had thrown.
Scoffing, he waved his hand at them as he pulled his phone out of his pant pocket. Unlocking it, he scrolled through his photo album and sighed.
They always teased him like this when he was down in the dumps. It had just been more recent as of late, seeing as you were rising in the ranks. Meaning you were gone more and more.
That also meant your friendship was tested more and more. He had noticed the change, he wasn’t completely blind to his emotions. He had noticed that as of late whenever you were gone he got a bit more snippy, and a bit more cynical-well more cynical than usual. Some had even told him that his color seemed more drained the longer and longer you were away.
This time had just been the longest. But it was also the most eye opening.
It's odd how you don’t notice how consistent someone is in your life until they’re gone.
He was mindlessly scrolling with a thousand yard stare off into the distance, when his phone suddenly anchored him back to reality.
Specifically your text tone.
Flicking to his messages, he felt his heart rate pick up.
(Y/N): heey! im finally back!! i missed you (cry emoji) (heart emoji)
Before his head could reminisce on the heart emoji and brew up any meaning behind it, he heard Pav gasp. Quickly looking up from his phone, he saw Pav squeal in excitement and Gwen chuckle as she shook her head.
“Look at him G! Do you see how much brighter he is? Ugh! Our boy has it bad.”
Sliding off his bed, he grabbed his bag and mask. Both Gwen and Pavitr could see that there was some pep in his step as he slung the bag over his shoulder. Fastening his web shooters on, he slid his mask into his pocket before entering your Earth into his watch.
“Oh oh! Where you heading Hobie? Thought we were having some serious bro time!”
Flicking them off, Hobie felt the portal open below him. Glancing through, he could see the flickering lights of your Earth.
“Piss off.”
Jumping through the portal, Hobie braced himself as he felt a quick rush before landing on your bed. The flickering and crackling of the portal remained only for a second before it snapped shut, dropping everything in the room along with its departure.
You stood in the opposite corner of the room, barely even unpacked. Your bag sat at the foot of your desk, unzipped with some of your clothes spilling out. You must’ve just texted him, because you were still in your spider suit…with one of his jumpers on.
Turning around, a smile spread across your face in an instant. Whatever you were doing was soon abandoned as you ran towards him. He was quick to stand, enveloping you in his frame. Feeling your aura mix with his, as he buried his nose into your hair felt nice. It awoke whatever nerves that had gone into hibernation after your departure, activating his senses once more.
Because he became highly aware of how right when you entered his arm, the hairs on yours stood under your suit. Your heart rate calmed but also picked up. Hell, he could even feel the blood rush to your cheeks as you buried your head into his chest.
“You really did miss me aye?” He teased, pulling you back by your shoulders to get a good look at his face.
“Mmm, only like…thiiiiiiis much.” Holding up two fingers, he watched as you held them close together and very very slowly pulled them apart. 
“Oh wow, and here I was in absolute agony.” He hummed, sitting on the edge of your windowsill.
“Oh really?” You laugh, leaning over him. He looked up at you, nodding as he placed his hands in his pocket.
“Absolutely, almost died.”
Watching you laugh was something he knew he needed. It wasn’t too hard, at least for him. Your back and forth quips and teases were something that usually ended in you laughing or him chuckling. Inside jokes and knowing stares were usually exchanged to test the waters whenever others were around. It happened so often people usually felt excluded whenever you were both in each other's presence.
It was something he didn’t know he could miss. 
“Wanna go for a swing?”
Watching the way your eyes lit up, he knew he had his answer.
Slipping his mask on, he was quick to open your window. He knew you were right behind him as he swung into action.
This was a dance you both did whenever you visited his world, swinging between buildings and each other. Finding ways to play off the others webbing and moves.
He loved watching you swing and flip. Hearing you laugh as you gave him a heart attack with how close you’d like to fall before yanking yourself back up into the air.
He felt a rush of similar emotions in the two weeks of you going dark. Whenever it was just him alone in his room, his mind would wander. He knew that if anything had happened he would have been the first told, both a blessing and a curse. But it still didn’t stop him from…worrying.
When did his worry for you become such a crutch?
Reaching to your normal hang out, what was atop your Statue of Liberty (which was still bronze here on your earth), both of you sat atop her torch. With shoulders touching, he watched as you leaned back and looked at your city.
“So, how many anomalies did you catch on this little spree of yours?” 
With a big sigh you ripped your mask off and stuffed it into your-no, his jacket pocket. Bringing a knee to your chest you placed your cheek on it as you looked at him.
“Twelve. Probably the most in a row.”
Tisking, he leaned back on his hands now as he also took his mask off.
“Wow, remember which ones?”
“Most of them were Vultures. They were the only ones that could reach the portals that opened in their respective worlds. I might as Miguel if I can take a break though.”
That piqued his interest. But he didn’t show a reaction, in fact he just hummed and watched as you put your forehead to rest on your knees.
“I appreciate how much Miguel…trusts me to keep the multiverse intact, I really do. I went through hell with his stupid tests in order to get into the Spider Society and its…its lead me to meet some of my favorite people but recently I've been more Spider than Person…”
Hobie sat up now, putting his elbows on his knees and smirking. He knew what you needed to hear in this moment. He knew you like the back of his hand, in the year that you two have gotten to know each other it is safe to say he almost knows you better than he knows himself. The same could probably be said about you knowing him.
“Favorite people aye? Where do I fall on that list?”
Watching you lift your head to give him a quick glance, a small smile graced your lips before you lifted your head fully to clear your throat.
“Atleast top…let's say ten? There's a lot of competition BB.” You chuckle
“Oh yea? That jumper you’re wearing says otherwise.”
Your eyes grew almost as wide as the lenses on your mask as you looked down. Your hands gripped the edge of the jacket for a moment before shoving into the pockets.
“Oh I uh…yea I dunno what to say…”
The gears were turning in your head, he could tell. Something was brewing.
“..y’know I didn’t even realize I had packed this until I was subconsciously putting it on the first night. I'm being dead serious when I tell you I only ever took it off whenever I was about to go into battle…I didn’t wanna ruin it.”
He smiled to himself listening to your words. Something similar to what was brewing in your head was brewing in his chest.
These past few months, more specifically the past two weeks where you couldn’t contact him, there was a confession building. Words that were just waiting in the dark until he was at his most vulnerable to come into the light were bubbling up in his throat. The only thing keeping them from spilling right at this very moment was the seal of his lips.
It was nice, having you back. But all these realizations that he was having just in these last few days, especially now in these moments he was sharing with you, told him all he needed to know.
Especially with those words that you had just said to him, he knew his realization was not far from out of the blue.
“ Y’know those two weeks were you went dark were ‘ell. Pav and Gwendy were up my arse the entire time. It irked me how well they read me those two weeks..”
Watching you grow still and turn towards him, and sighed before turning towards you as well.
“I'm sorry about that Hobbie…my communicator died and Miguel told me I wasn’t allowed a new one until I finished my assignment. Which made everything so much harder to do since I had to wait for texts from Lyla and code instead of her just being able to talk me through it.”
“I knew it ‘ad to be somethin outta your control…and I also had a keepsake that ‘elped me keep my cool.”
Pulling back his cuffs, an array of bracelets both woven and made were on both of his wrists. They were all yours, but ones you hadn’t seen in a while and ones you were sure you had left on your desk before you had left.
What he couldn’t show you was the shirt he had of yours that was also on his pillow. He had it for the same reason he was sure you had his jacket for the entire trip…
Though it was starting to lose your scent.
There was a comfortable silence, at least he hoped there was. He could barely tell based off the thumping of his heart…
When he finally made eye contact with you, he saw a dopey smile on your face. It made him smile too. No matter how long you two were apart, no matter how raw the two of you got it never changed anything.
Well, he hoped nothing would change after what he was about to do.
Hobie wasn’t scared of a lot, practically nothing. But you scared the ever loving shit out of him. Both with all the stunts that you pulled and just the way you made him feel. He used to be this hardass corruptor but now? He wasn’t sure what he was without you.
“Hey Hobie..”
“Yea?”
“You should totally kiss me right now.”
“Yup.”
His hand fit perfectly on the crook of your neck, and so did his lips with yours.
Whatever you were feeling spilled into him, and he with you. A full year's worth of pent up emotion exploded into the kiss as he seemingly took your breath away. In recent months he could only imagine how your lips would feel against his, but it was nothing compared to what he was experiencing right now. Yours and his molded together in a flurry of silken passion, fitting together perfectly just like he knew they would.
Your hands found their place resting on his cheeks, just as his found theirs. With one resting on your neck and the other finding its way onto your side to pull you close. So close that he could feel the drum of your heart match his when your chests collided.
He wanted to curse whatever being made it so that the human body needed oxygen. When you pulled away his lips followed yours in chase, and it wasn’t until you held his face in place so that your bruised lips could take in a breath. Your finger ran over his bottom lip, playing with his lip ring as he panted in time with you.
“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do that…how..how being away from you for so long made me realize that's all I’ve ever wanted to do.”
“I ‘ave an idea.”
His hand that rested on the edge of your neck came around to hold your throat, with his fingers resting on your pulse.
It was going a mile a minute just like his.
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