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aleskie · 18 days ago

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ANYTHING THAT CAN GO WRONG WILL GO WRONG | Nico Hischier x Reader

SUMMARY: Nico wants to marry you. He's more sure of that than anything else. Things just aren't going according to plan.

Warnings: no warnings, just fluff and a lil bit of murphy's law -> happy endingggg!! Author's Note: I'm baaaaaack~~~ Happy 2025! Here's a quick lil thing to start us off this year! Thanks for tuning in MWAH

If there was one thing Nico was sure of, it was that he wanted to marry you.

He wanted to plan a wedding with you—debating seating arrangements and floral designs, choosing party favors, and having all the little arguments couples have before they find a compromise. He wanted to go on a honeymoon, maybe to Costa Rica like he’d always dreamed, or maybe somewhere else you’d want to go. Maybe both. It didn’t really matter to him, as long as you were together. He wanted to see you walk down the aisle, knowing he’d be wiping away tears as he watched you walk closer to him, step by step, towards your shared future.

He wanted to carry you across the threshold of your new home, to go furniture shopping and hang pictures on the walls. He wanted to decorate a nursery, pick out toys, and watch you laugh as you played with your child—a little person who was so perfectly both of you.

From waking up beside you each morning to arguing and making up, to coming home to you after a long, tiring day—he wanted it all. He wanted everything with you: the good, the bad, and all the imperfect, fleeting moments in between.

He has it all planned out. He’s gotten a reservation at the restaurant you had your first date in, complete with the course you had the very first time you went. Unfortunately, they said he couldn’t just reserve a specific table but they did offer him a private area that overlooks the city, so it wasn’t too bad. He’s made sure they have your favorite wine on hand, and your favorite cocktails too just in case you were feeling it that night.

After dinner, he’d take you to the ice cream parlor where you’d kissed him on the cheek for the very first time. He’d already called to confirm they still had that one niche flavor you loved—the one he was pretty sure only you ever ordered. Then, to end the night, he’d bring you to the little bookshop café where you’d shared your first real kiss.

There, he’d tell you he loved you. He’d tell you how much your smile and your laugh meant to him, how you made him a better person because you inspired him to be the best version of himself. Because he wanted to be the best person for you. He’d list all the little things he adored about you, and then he’d say what he’d been holding in his heart for so long: he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you. He wanted to grow old together, hand in hand.

And then, he’d kneel down and ask you to marry him.

If he was lucky—and he knew in his heart he would be—you’d say yes.

So, why has nothing been going his way?

Summers in Switzerland were one of Nico’s favorite things in the world. The weather, the views, the precious time spent with his family—Nothing could beat it. The cool breeze that wasn’t too cold, the ideal weather for hiking through the nearby mountains with his siblings, the serene lake perfect for lounging and sneaking in lazy afternoon naps—it was heaven. Most importantly, he got to see one of his favorite views: you lounging around in your swimsuits. The summer music festivals also added to the magic, offering nights filled with dancing to everything from EDM beats to indie melodies, with stolen kisses tucked between songs. Everything was just…perfect.

But it was during what was supposed to be an idyllic lake day that things began to unravel.

He and Luca were on the porch, getting the grill ready for lunch. They worked and chatted side by side, oiling the grates, filling the drum with coal, and securing everything in place. From the corner of his eye, Nico spotted you and Nina lounging by the pier, chatting and sipping the margaritas you’d mixed earlier. You were all smiles, relaxed in a way that made his heart swell. He loved how effortlessly you fit in with his family. It only strengthened the resolve in him to officially make you a part of it.

He gave Luca a pat on the back before heading toward you, his steps light, his mood lighter.

“Well, we’ve talked about it, but maybe we’re both not there yet,” he heard you say as he approached, “I mean, I am. But I don’t know if he is.”

“Oh, you’re both there,” Nina replied confidently, her voice teasing and certain, “Trust me.”

“You think so?” Your voice softened, and Nico could almost picture the way your lips curved into a smile. As he got closer, curiosity stirred in his chest. What were you two chatting about? There wasn’t much you hadn’t discussed or aligned on. Communication was a cornerstone of your relationship.

Then Nina spoke again, her voice laced with the telltale looseness of someone a little too tipsy. And just like that, everything clicked.

“Oh, honey, you should’ve seen the ring!”

Nico froze, his stomach flipping. He saw the instant regret flash across Nina’s face—eyes wide as she processed saying something she shouldn’t have.

“What ring?” you asked, tilting your head in curiosity, the gears in your mind already beginning to turn.

But Nico wasn’t about to let you connect the dots. Not yet.

“Nina!” he called out, his voice cutting through the summer air as he quickened his pace, “Luca needs you with the grill!”

Nina turns back, a wave of relief flashing across her face as she downs the rest of her drink in one swift motion. "Tell him I’m coming!" she calls out, her voice a little too cheerful as she rises from her seat.

Before rushing off, she leans down to give you a quick hug, murmuring just loudly enough for Nico to hear, “I didn’t say anything.”

Nico rolls his eyes as she brushes past him, clearly trying to cover her tracks. The damage was already done, but he wasn’t about to let it spiral further.

He stalks closer, his annoyance melting away as his gaze settles on you. You’re lounging in one of his shirts, the oversized fabric falling to the middle of your thighs, the sleeves brushing your forearms. The way it drapes over you makes his heart flutter—like you belong to him in the most effortless, natural way.

“Hi, baby,” he says, his voice warm as he leans on the armrest of the thick lounge chair you’re perched on.

You look up at him, your brows slightly furrowed, your lips parting as if to speak. He knows that look—you’re trying to piece together what Nina let slip, to draw some kind of answer from him without having to ask outright.

He doesn’t give you the chance.

Reaching down, he picks up the margarita you’d been nursing and takes a slow, deliberate sip, all while keeping his eyes on yours. “Mmm,” he hums appreciatively. “This is good. You make the best drinks, you know that?”

“Honey.” Your voice is sharp with curiosity, your eyes narrowing ever so slightly. “What ring is she talking about?”

He chuckles, a soft sound meant to disarm you as much as his grin—a grin he hopes doesn’t betray his nerves. “Nina’s just had a little too much to drink. It’s nothing you need to worry about.” He shrugs, aiming for nonchalance.

Not yet, anyway.

You tilt your head, skepticism written all over your face. It’s clear you’re unconvinced, and Nico can feel a bead of sweat trickling down his back despite the cool summer breeze. He knows you well enough to sense that you’re on the verge of figuring it all out. He also knows you’re kind enough to let him off the hook, to leave the surprise intact—if only because you love seeing him squirm just a little.

A knowing smirk tugs at your lips, your eyes sparkling with amusement. “Alrighty,” you say, drawing out the word teasingly. “If you say so.”

Nico exhales a small breath of relief, his grin widening.

“Did Luca actually need help with the grill,” you ask, arching an eyebrow, “Or did you just want to steal my drink?”

He laughs, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your forehead. “Who knows?” he murmurs, handing the glass back to you.

As the two of you settle back into the quiet, the soft lapping of the lake filling the space between you, Nico can’t help but smile to himself. He’d already bought the ring—in the exact cut you wanted, with the metal band you’d once hinted was your favorite—and it was scheduled to arrive soon.

The moment Nina had so carelessly hinted at was fast approaching, and he couldn’t wait to see the look on your face when it finally happened.

It was rare for Nico to have an entire free day to spend with you, which made the moments all the more special when they came around.

The day had started perfectly. He woke up to find your arm draped across his middle, your soft breaths tickling his skin. For a moment, he stayed there, watching your peaceful frame, memorizing the way the morning light kissed your face. Eventually, he slipped out of bed, careful not to disturb you, and made his way to the kitchen to prepare breakfast.

When you woke up, you found him at the stove, flipping pancakes with practiced ease. The smell of bacon and coffee filled the air as you padded over to wrap your arms around his waist, pressing your cheek against his back. You ate together, sharing syrupy bites of pancakes and stealing sips of each other’s coffee.

After breakfast, you both moved to the sink. It turned into a dance of domestic harmony—you washed the plates while he dried them, sneaking in playful splashes of water that made you both laugh.

Later, you got ready together. In the shower, he lathered shampoo into your hair while you ran soapy circles across his back. When you stepped out, he sat you on the bathroom counter, your lips forming a dramatic pout as you begrudgingly trimmed his beard.

By mid-morning, you were tangled together on the couch, a blanket draped over you as a show played in the background. His arm rested beneath your head, your legs stretched across his lap. It was his own little slice of heaven, perfect and untouched by the outside world.

And then, you said you had errands to run.

“It’ll only be for a few minutes,” you promised, stroking his head with a teasing grin as he groaned in protest.

“Fine,” he relented, though his pout remained firmly in place. He basked in the soft kiss you planted on his lips before you grabbed your bag and turned to leave.

The door clicked shut, and the silence that followed felt too loud. He sighed dramatically, sinking deeper into the couch. Reaching for a pillow, he hugged it against his chest, letting it stand in as your replacement.

With you gone, he turned his attention back to the show, finding himself unexpectedly drawn into the plot. Still, every so often, his mind wandered to you—wondering how long the errands would take, what you might bring back, and how soon he could coax you back into his arms.

He sighs. Even a few minutes felt too long without you.

It takes an hour for you to return, your tote bag filled with simple ingredients for a late-lunch-early-dinner combo. Nico perks up from the couch as soon as he hears the door open, his pout fading into a grin. In your hands, he spots a small brown package, which you place on the kitchen island before unloading the groceries.

“I ran into the delivery guy on my way back,” you explain casually, arranging the fresh vegetables in the fridge. “This came for you.”

“Ah,” he says, pausing the show he was watching. “Must be the hoodie I ordered a few days ago. I was wondering when it would show up.” He glances over, smiling. “Wanna open it?”

“Open my new sweater?” you tease, shooting him a knowing look as you retrieve a pair of scissors from the drawer. “Don’t mind if I do.”

He chuckles, shaking his head. He knows full well that every hoodie of his eventually finds its way into your closet.

Carefully, you slice open the tape and pull apart the packaging. But instead of a soft bundle of fabric, you reveal a small box, no larger than the palm of your hand.

You pause, curiosity piqued. It doesn’t look like a hoodie, and for a moment, you think maybe it’s one of his surprises for you—a pair of earrings or a delicate necklace, perhaps. With a small smile, you lift the lid of the box.

Inside, nestled against a soft velvet lining, is a ring.

It’s not just any ring. It’s the ring. The one you’d described to him in passing all those months ago. The gemstone, the cut, the metal band—every detail is exactly what you’d envisioned, as if he’d plucked the idea straight from your heart.

Your breath catches, and your vision blurs as tears spring to your eyes. It’s not just the ring—it’s what it represents. The thought of him listening so carefully, of him tucking away every detail you’d shared, hits you like a wave. You already knew he loved you, that he listened to you, but seeing it embodied in something so meaningful overwhelms you.

“Baby?” Nico’s voice pulls you back. He’s standing behind you now, concern etched on his face. “What’s wrong?”

You turn to him, your lips trembling as you hold up the small box. His eyes flick down, and the moment he recognizes it, his heart drops.

The very box he chose so carefully. The very ring he agonized over, wanting every detail to be perfect for you. The very thing he’d been planning to surprise you with, just a few weeks from now.

For a second, neither of you speaks. The air feels charged, suspended between panic and love, between what was supposed to be and what is now.

“I…I wasn’t supposed to see this, was I?” you finally say, your voice soft, tinged with both awe and regret.

He rubs the back of his neck, letting out a breathy laugh. “No, not quite yet.”

You place the box down on the counter, turning to him fully. “But you were going to ask me?”

He looks at you, his nervous energy fading as he takes your hands in his. His thumb brushes over your knuckles, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Yeah,” he admits. “I was.”

“You want to marry me?” Your voice trembles, thick with emotion.

He nods.

The tears fall freely then, happy and unrestrained, as you throw your arms around him. His hold on you is firm and protective, his heart pounding against your cheek as you press against his chest.

“The answer is yes,” you whisper, your words muffled by his shirt but carrying all the weight of your feelings. “You know that, right? It was always going to be a yes.”

“I know.” His voice is soft as he kisses the top of your head, his lips lingering there. “But I want to do this right. I’m going to propose properly—on one knee and everything.”

You lean into his touch as he cups your cheek, his thumb wiping away a stray tear. “Is that okay?” he asks, his gaze earnest.

You smile, your heart filled with nothing else but love for the man holding you in his arms. “It’s perfect.”

Today was the day.

After months of careful planning, of waiting for just the right moment, Nico was finally going to ask you to marry him. Every detail had been meticulously thought out, adjusted, and readjusted after that fateful day you accidentally found the ring.

The memory still made him cringe. He’d quickly hidden it in a new, foolproof spot (his gym bag—a place you never ventured) and rescheduled everything. The bookstore café was unfortunately booked for an event tonight, but the ice cream parlor was still part of the plan, and the dinner reservation at the restaurant where you had your first date was secured.

He’d chosen tonight—your anniversary—for the proposal because it felt just right. The date was sentimental enough to mean something but obvious enough for you to dismiss it as “too cliché.” It was perfect. You would never see it coming.

“Nico, can you help me zip up my dress, please?” Your voice called out from the changing area of your shared bedroom, pulling him from his thoughts.

He turned to see you standing in front of the mirror, the white dress he’d picked out for you half-zipped, slipping precariously off your shoulders. You looked stunning—effortlessly radiant, like you always did—but tonight, something about seeing you in that dress made his heart skip a beat.

“Of course,” he said, his voice soft as he walked over to you.

His hands brushed lightly against your back as he grasped the zipper, pulling it up slowly. But he couldn’t resist leaning down to press a kiss to your bare shoulder. Then another, and another, his lips trailing up your neck in a way that made you laugh softly, tilting your head to the side to give him more room.

“Nico,” you chided, though your tone was anything but stern.

“What?” he said, grinning against your skin. “You’re gorgeous. Can you blame me?”

He finally finished zipping up the dress, his hands lingering on your waist as he turned you to face him. “You’re breathtaking,” he murmured, his eyes focused on yours.

You rolled your eyes playfully but couldn’t hide your smile. “You’re just saying that because you picked the dress.”

“Maybe,” he teased, leaning in to steal a quick kiss. “But you’re always breathtaking to me.”

Your cheeks flushed, and he couldn’t help but feel a surge of pride at the sight. He was going to make you blush like that every day for the rest of your lives, starting tonight.

“Whatever you say, Captain Smooth-talker,” you said, shaking your head but still smiling, “If we don’t leave soon, we’re going to miss our reservation.”

He nodded, his heart racing with anticipation. “You’re right. Let’s go.”

He took a deep breath as he grabbed his jacket. Tonight was the night. By the end of it, if you hadn’t changed your mind, you’d be his fiancée.

The two of you arrive just in time to be seated at the table Nico had carefully arranged. The private area overlooked the city, the lights from the streets below twinkling like a sea of stars. It was breathtaking, but not nearly as much as the way you looked as you gazed out at the view.

“Honey, this is beautiful” you say, your lips curving into a soft smile as you sat down.

“Not as beautiful as you,” he replied smoothly, earning an eye-roll and a bashful grin from you.

The waiter arrived promptly to take your drink orders, and soon, the meal began. The first plates brought out were appetizers—delicate and artfully arranged. But Nico knew you well enough to know that, for you, the true star of the opening act wasn’t the small plates but the breadbasket that accompanied them.

“God, this bread is amazing,” you said, your eyes lighting up as you took a bite.

Nico chuckled, watching you enjoy the fresh, crusty loaf slathered in butter. “I had a feeling you’d like that.”

“You know me so well,” you teased, reaching for another piece.

“I try,” he said with a chuckle, though the statement carried more weight than you realized. Tonight was all about how well he knew you—what you loved, what made you happy, and what kind of future you dreamed of.

The entrees arrived next, perfectly timed to follow the appetizers. Nico tried to focus on his meal, but his mind was racing. The ring in his jacket pocket felt heavier than it had any right to, as if it was reminding him of the significance of what he was about to do.

He stole glances at you throughout the meal, his heart swelling every time you laughed at something he said or leaned closer to share a bite of your dish. You were the person he was going to spend the rest of his life with, and tonight, he was going to make it official.

As the plates were cleared and the waiter offered dessert options, Nico mentally rehearsed what he was going to say. He cycled through his bullet points, recalling the memories he wanted to highlight—the milestones, the quiet moments, the inside jokes only the two of you understood. Every detail of your relationship had led to this moment, and he wanted to do it justice.

While you shared a slice of cake, he alternated between admiring the way your eyes lit up with every bite and fine-tuning his speech in his head. The sound of your laughter when you joked about how you could live on this dessert alone was enough to settle his nerves for a fleeting moment.

“Here,” he said, offering you the last bite of cake with a smile.

You took it gladly, humming in delight as you savored the sweetness. Nico couldn’t help but grin. This was what he loved most—seeing you happy, knowing he was part of the reason why.

He shifted slightly in his seat, reaching for his jacket draped over the back of his chair. This was it. The moment he had been planning for months. Everything was about to fall perfectly into place.

His fingers slid into the inner pocket, brushing against the fabric as he searched for the small velvet box.

Except it wasn’t there.

His heart stopped.

He stilled, trying not to let his expression betray the rising panic inside him. Discreetly, he checked the pocket again, this time more frantically.

Nothing.

His breath hitched as he patted down every pocket—inner, outer, even the ones he knew he wouldn’t have used. It wasn’t there.

Panic tightened in his chest.

You tilted your head, noticing his sudden fidgeting. “You okay?”

“Uh—yeah,” he said quickly, forcing a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Just…thought I forgot something, but it’s nothing important.”

It was a lie. A big one. Because what he’d forgotten was the most important thing of all.

The ring.

His mind raced, retracing his steps from earlier in the day. And then it hit him like a freight train. It wasn’t here. It was still at home, tucked away in the hidden compartment of his gym bag where he’d stashed it months ago for safekeeping.

Fuck.

He glanced at you, trying to keep his composure. You were oblivious to the turmoil raging inside him, busy taking a sip of your drink and remarking on how beautiful the view looked under the night sky and how the restaurant has always been one of your favorites.

He was supposed to be getting down on one knee right now, asking you the question that had been on his mind for what felt like forever. Instead, he was sitting here empty-handed, grappling with the colossal oversight that threatened to derail everything he had planned.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Resigned, he sighs quietly.

At least you’d still get your ice cream afterwards.

For the rest of the night, Nico’s heart raced as he scrambled to act normal, though he knew he was failing miserably.

“You’re acting weird,” you said from the passenger seat, concern etched on your face as you took another bite of your ice cream. “What’s wrong, hun?”

“I’m fine,” he mumbled, gripping the steering wheel tighter than necessary. “Just…a little tired, I guess.”

Understatement of the year.

You hummed in response, a little unconvinced, but quickly launched into a happy recount of the night—the food, the breathtaking view, how much the evening reminded you of your first date. Nico nodded along, forcing a smile and interjecting when he could, though his mind was racing. He was relieved to have deflected your attention, but the frustration simmering inside him was relentless.

How could he have forgotten the one thing that mattered most? The question plagued him, cycling in his mind like a broken record. He needed to clear his head, or else the night would spiral even further.

Without warning, Nico pulled over to the side of an empty road, the car coming to a gentle stop next to an open field bathed in moonlight.

“Nico?” you asked, confused as he unbuckled his seatbelt and got out of the car. You watched him for a moment, his silhouette illuminated by the glow of the streetlights and the faint flicker of fireflies in the distance. Concern gripped you, and you quickly followed, calling after him as he walked into the field.

“Nico, what’s wrong? Please, just talk to me,” you pleaded, your voice soft but insistent as you reached him.

He turned to face you, his expression shadowed by a mix of guilt and vulnerability. For a moment, he didn’t say anything, just looked at you—really looked at you. The way the light caught in your eyes, the slight furrow of your brows, the way the wind tugged at your hair. Even like this, worried and uncertain, you were breathtaking.

A pang of guilt hit him like a punch to the chest.

Taking a deep breath, Nico reached for your hand, lacing his fingers with yours. “I wanted tonight to be special,” he said, his voice low and almost apologetic.

You tilted your head, confusion softening your features. “What do you mean? It’s our anniversary—it is special.”

“Not like that,” he said, shaking his head. He stepped closer, his hesitation palpable. “I…I forgot something tonight.”

Your frown deepened. “Did we leave something at the restaurant? We can always go ba—”

“No,” he interrupted, his voice a little firmer this time. “It’s not about the restaurant. I forgot something important, and I couldn’t…I couldn’t do what I wanted to do.”

“Nico?” you asked again, your voice laced with curiosity and a flicker of nervousness.

He closed the distance between you, pulling you closer until you could hear the rapid thrum of his heart. His hands trembled slightly as they held yours, the weight of the moment pressing down on him.

“I’ve been planning this for months,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “I wanted everything to be perfect—the dinner, the timing, all of it—even the ice cream. But I messed up. I forgot the ring.”

You blinked, the words sinking in. “The ring?”

His gaze softened as he looked deeply into your eyes, brushing a loose strand of hair from your face. His hand lingered, his fingers cupping your cheek gently. “Yeah,” he said, his voice steady despite the rapid pounding of his heart. “The ring I was supposed to pull out tonight. The ring I picked out because I knew it was exactly what you’d want. The ring I got because I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

Your breath hitched, tears welling in your eyes as his words settled over you like a warm embrace. Your lips trembled as you watched him drop to one knee, his hands enveloping yours with a tenderness that made your heart ache.

“I don’t have the box with the ring. And I’ve completely forgotten everything I’d planned to say.” He let out a soft, self-deprecating chuckle, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “But know this—I love you. Even now, especially now, when all I have is me and my love for you.”

He pressed a kiss to your hands, his touch reverent, as though grounding himself in the moment. Then, his voice dropped to a whisper, earnest and raw. “This isn’t the perfect proposal I had in mind, but I have to ask…”

He looked up at you, his eyes glimmering with sincerity and hope. “Will you marry me?”

For a heartbeat, the world seemed to still. The gentle rustle of the grass, the soft hum of crickets, the distant glow of fireflies—it all faded, leaving just the two of you.

Then, like a dam breaking, laughter bubbled out of you—a breathless, joyful sound that lit up the quiet night. Without hesitation, you dropped to your knees, pulling him into a kiss so fervent it knocked the two of you backward onto the soft grass. He landed with a gentle oof, his arms instinctively wrapping around you as you hovered over him, your tears mingling with your smile.

“Yes,” you whispered, your lips brushing against his as you spoke. “A million times yes.”

Relief and pure, unfiltered happiness coursed through him, his grin widening as he pulled you close, holding you as if he never wanted to let go. “I’ll make this up to you,” he promised, his voice muffled against your shoulder, though there was a lightness in his tone now. “The perfect ring, the perfect proposal—I’ll do it right.”

You pulled back slightly, shaking your head with a radiant smile. “You already did.”

He smiles and pulls you into another kiss. The fireflies danced around you, the world continuing on, but for you both, time felt suspended—an endless moment of love and joy and a future that had just begun.

#nico hischier x reader #nico hischier imagine #nico hischier fic #nico hischier #nh13 #nhl fanfiction #nhl imagine #nhl fic #nhl #nhl x reader #new jersey devils #✩ allie's writing ✩

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moremaybank · 7 months ago

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shy but pervy bsf!jj who gets caught using your bikini top to get off...

warnings male masturbation, getting caught in the (solo) act, soft dom!reader, sub!jj, jj cums on r's tits, mommy kink but it's only mentioned at the very end

jj's slumped against the old and nearly-falling-apart mattress in his designated room of the chateau. sweat clung to his skin the more he worked at himself. muscles stiff and rigid, wisps of blonde hair hanging over his eyes as he peered down at his angry, pulsing cock.

wrapped in both his fist and the red framework of your bikini top, he gritted his teeth to prevent his curses from stringing out.

was it risky? getting himself off with your flimsy excuse for a bathing suit while you were right outside? sure.

but it was all your fault in the first place.

you'd spent the day in that same top, frolicking around on the beach while your tits bulged out of the thin material. it pushed them together in a way that jj could only describe as godlike. and if your cleavage wasn't already calling out to him, your nipples undoubtedly were. you stepped out of the water, and the cool breeze hit your wet body. goosebumps spiked across your skin, and your buds pebbled right before him.

he had to hide the drool that was pooling out the corner of his mouth.

but things turned even more sour when you hugged him. they swelled when they pressed against his chest, and thanks to the aforementioned thin fabric, he could practically feel all of you.

then, when the day turned to night, and you'd changed out of your swimsuit and into something more comfortable (his shirt, of course, because you weren't making him suffer enough), jj decided it was within his rights to use your top to his benefit.

his eyes flicked back and forth. from one hand that clutched his phone tightly, the screen lit up with a zoomed in photo you two had taken earlier that day, over to the other he had curled around his cock. he fucked his fist, as well as the striking red fabric, whispering out your name and a few other dirty sayings that only made him harder.

he travels so far into his own world, one that he'd crafted himself with visions and thoughts of you, that he doesn't seem to hear you call for him when you saunter into the chateau. he misses your steps, your knocks on the wooden door, and if it weren't for the creaks of the hinges, he would've missed your gasp.

his head snaps toward you, hand immediately stilling. "fuck. i-i can explain—"

your next words stun him.

"shh." you walk over to him, taking a seat on the bed next to him. your hands raise, framing his flushed cheeks. "if you wanted to cum on my tits, you could've just asked. you know i'd give you anything."

you pull him in, pressing a searing wet kiss to his lips. "you want that?"

it takes him a second, but he gets there, nodding frantically as the words trip past his lips. "y-yeah."

so you play your part of the dutiful best friend, doing anything to make him happy. your fingers grasp the bottom of his worn cotton tee, and you pull it over your head. jj's prayers are answered when your bare tits come into view.

you can see that he's hypnotized, and you have to bring him back to reality yourself. "start stroking, j. let me see how you fuck yourself while you think of me."

the leading star of every last one of his wet dreams is seated before him, topless and asking to watch him while he gets himself off. off on her. he can't tell if he's alive or if he's died and this is his very own slice of heaven.

"anythin' you want, babygirl. anythin'."

eyes locked on your breasts, his hand starts to move. he's throbbing wildly against his palm, just from staring at you, and at the plumpness of your chest. he loses it when your hands travel up the length of your torso, cupping your tits and toying with them in a way that makes jj's tip start to pool and leak. his speed accelerates, and you feel your panties dampen as grunts curses spill from his lips.

"yeah, there you go, pretty boy," you praise, beginning to jiggle them the way they would if he was fucking you. "bet you wish you were the ones makin' them shake, right?"

he lets out a pitiful whimper, hips now thrusting to meet his movements. you hear your name in a whine, watching his eyes screw shut. you're quick to remind him whose rules you're both playing by. you're so sweet about it, almost purring at him while one hand abandons your chest, allowing you to grasp his chin between your fingers. "uh-uh, open those eyes. if you wanna cum, you gotta watch me. can you do that for me, j?"

he obliges. of course, he does. you're his favourite girl. he couldn't say no to you even if he had a gun to his head or a knife to his throat. his eyes flutter open, and he's biting on his lip so hard that it's bound to bleed. your thumb pulls it free.

"don't do that. need to hear you thank me when you cum, right?"

he nods, no longer able to form words when one of your hands cups his balls and starts to massage them. your other pinches your nipple, and you moan for him.

"you wanna paint my tits, handsome?"

"yeah. yeah."

"okay," you say, getting on your hands and knees before him. you bring your chest right up to his cock, giving him what he wants. "cum all over 'em, j. give it to me, baby."

"mommy, f-fuck," he gasps, body going into shock as his cum shoots out in spurts across your skin. "thank you. thank you, thank you, thank you."

concepts ; concepts (ii)

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omkookie · 6 days ago

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"I didn't strip for you to see, but I won't stop you if you want to."

"Damn, I'm hot even naked like this. You, come and take off my swimsuit."

"If you drown, I'll bring you to Heaven. Keke."

"I'm wondering if I should kidnap you and bring you to Heaven"

"And as a Christmas gift, I could just grab you and kidnap you back with me"

"Hey, smile. You were right, I wanted to see you smile."

"I missed you."

"You, I like you."

Bonus!

Raphael: "Do something until I want to send you back."

Raphael said, cupping your cheeks as if he were playing with a toy, then gradually lowering his hands to trace the nape of your neck, your shoulders, and the soft parts of your forearms playfully.

Info:

These are all taken from the Christmas, Beach, and Evolution stories, + some of his chats. This post will be updated if raphy says he wants to kidnap mc again

Raphy artwork was made by the WHB artist Nori!

#whb #what in hell is bad #whb raphael #random 🍪s #what in hell is bad raphael

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redroomreflections · 9 months ago

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II HANDS II HEAVEN 5

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: Natasha Romanoff and Reader reluctantly team up for a couples retreat mission. Despite initial resistance, they find themselves drawn together by unexpected circumstances and shared experiences.

W/c: 3.2k.

Masterlist | General Masterlist

“Red or Blue?” You asked Natasha as you sifted through one of your many suitcases. Clothes were strewn about on the floor around you as you debated what to wear. It wasn’t exactly a tough choice but first impressions mattered. Even if the first impressions you were banking on weren’t the other hotel guests.

“What?” She glanced up from her phone, confusion evident in her furrowed brow. “Why are you asking me?”

She was busy debriefing Steve and the team on a few minor details. Small things she picked up about the resort from your time in the lobby. So far, as expected, everything seemed normal.

You glanced over, noticing her distraction, and rolled your eyes. "Just trying to involve you in the decision-making process. You know, team effort. Don’t you have girlfriends that you discuss outfit choices with?”

"Not really my style," She replied dryly, before resuming her conversation with Steve and the team, seamlessly slipping back into her professional demeanor.

“I can see,” You muttered as you slipped into the bathroom. You took your time changing into the black suit, tying it as best you could behind your neck before you snapped the straps of the bottoms on your waistline. You walk back over to your suitcase, squatting to find your favorite lotion-sunscreen combo that always has your skin looking lovely and sparkly. “I guess it’s not okay to ask you if I should wear my hair up or down?” You tilted your head, a playful smirk dancing on your lips as you applied generous amounts of lotion to your legs. With one knee bent, you glanced over to Natasha, waiting for her response.

Natasha raised an eyebrow, her lips twitching with amusement as she glanced up from her phone. "I suppose you can ask," she replied. "But don't expect any expert advice from me."

You shook your head. What a shame. "Fair enough," you conceded, finishing up with the lotion before returning to your suitcase. "Looks like it's just me and my questionable fashion sense then."

It’s then Natasha truly looked at you. This bikini was wow. In every sense of the word. It was very little, borderline inappropriate, but also somehow still tasteful. Natasha's gaze lingered on you for a moment longer than necessary as she took in the sight, a subtle appreciation glinting in her eyes.

"Um, Natasha?" You prompted, noticing her prolonged scrutiny.

Natasha blinked, snapping out of her reverie. "Oh, uh, sorry," she replied, clearing her throat. "Wear your hair down. It suits the look."

You didn't catch her response at first, too engrossed in adjusting the straps of your bikini top. "What was that?" you asked, looking up to meet her gaze.

Natasha repeated herself, her tone more decisive this time. "I said, wear it down. It looks good."

You grinned in response, nodding in agreement before turning your attention back to your reflection in the mirror. Natasha's subtle compliment brought warmth to your cheeks and a little more pep in your step.

“Are you wearing that?” You gestured to her as you made eye contact in the mirror across from the bed. It's an interesting choice on the resort’s part. Natasha’s outfit was homely but not in an insulting kind of way. A comfy set since the both of you had spent hours in the car. With this blonde hair, she resembled the everyday girl next door.

“Of course not,” Natasha shook her head. She grabbed her bikini from the luggage she’d unpacked already at this point. “Don’t turn around.” She warned you.

You turned your gaze toward the mirror, only to witness a blur of motion behind you. Clothes flew through the air as Natasha swiftly shed her sweatpants and t-shirt and stepped into her one-piece swimsuit with practiced efficiency.

The speed and fluidity of her movements left you momentarily speechless, your mouth suddenly feeling dry as you watched in awe. You attempted to distract yourself with the jewelry in front of you. Diamond hoop earrings and a small heart-shaped necklace.

Natasha looked up from fastening her sandals. "Are you ready?"

You raised an eyebrow in mock indignation. "You just got dressed and you’re already rushing me?"

Natasha chuckled, her smirk widening as she shook her head. "I like to stay ahead of schedule," she replied, her tone teasing.

You rolled your eyes with a grin. "Alright, alright," you conceded, reaching for your sandals. "I'm ready when you are."

“You’re wearing jewelry to the pool?” She questioned, pushing the Fendi sunglasses over her hair.

Natasha's question caught you off guard as you adjusted your jewelry, a puzzled expression on your face.

You glanced down at your accessories, contemplating her observation for a moment before shrugging nonchalantly. "Why not?" you replied, your fingers deftly arranging the delicate pieces. "A little extra never hurt anyone."

Natasha raised an eyebrow. “ If you say so," she conceded."Just don't come crying to me if you lose something in the water."

“Don’t worry I’ll find some hot pool boy to find it for me,” You shrugged.

Natasha arched an eyebrow, a smirk playing on her lips as she shot back with equal snarkiness, "Just make sure he's qualified for the job."

***********

The pool area stirred with activity, a lively mix of people young and old enjoying the serene surroundings. The crystal-clear water sparkled under the sun's gentle rays, creating a picturesque scene that called to you.

Finding a few empty seats nearby, you and Natasha made your way over, the soft chatter of voices and the occasional splash of water filling the air. There was some reggae mix on the stereo as the bartender called out names for drinks. Dropping your bags and book onto the nearest chair, you settled down with a contented sigh, sinking into the welcoming embrace of the cushioned seat.

“Joan, sweetie,” You said with a mischievous grin, turning to Natasha. “I left my towel back in the room. Won’t you be a dear and grab me one?”

Natasha narrowed her eyes at your request, having just settled into her seat. She tilted her head slightly, a hint of annoyance in her gaze as she considered your cheeky demeanor. With a low growl, Natasha stood and walked over to the shelf where the spare towels were. She grabbed a few, walking back over to you with a frown.

“Here,” She gently passed a towel to you. “Anything else?”

“Hmm,” You thought long and hard. “I’d love a strawberry-lemon mojito.”

Natasha's eyes narrowed further at your response."Keep dreaming," she wanted to say, but for the sake of appearances, she sighed and walked over to the bartender.

You watched her walk away, your eyes lingering on certain assets longer than necessary. You could admit that Natasha had an amazing physique. Something you had always admired from a distance.

A subtle flush crept up your cheeks as you realized the direction of your thoughts. Despite your professionalism, you couldn't deny the admiration you held for Natasha's physical prowess. It was a quality you had always respected, even if you had never openly acknowledged it before.

She’d probably kill you if you did it anyway.

Turning your attention back to the pool, you made a conscious effort to focus on the task at hand, pushing aside any lingering distractions. Beside you, you noticed an older woman with graying hair casting a curious glance in your direction. Her eyes flashed with interest as she leaned closer, a warm smile gracing her lips.

“Newlyweds?” she ventured, her voice tinged with a hint of curiosity.

"Yeah, how'd you know?" you replied, feigning innocence as you awaited her response.

The older lady chuckled softly, her eyes sparkling with amusement at your response. "Oh, it's just something about the way you two carry yourselves," she explained with a knowing smile. "There's a certain glow of happiness and togetherness that newlyweds often have. It's unmistakable."

“Wow, you got all that in the five minutes you saw us together?” You questioned. “Are you a psychic or something?”

"Only in a past life," She laughed lightly. "I'm Leslie. And this is my husband Frank. “She referred to the sleeping man with a slight sunburn next to her. You are?" she introduced herself, extending her hand in a gesture of greeting.

"Alexis," you replied with a warm smile, accepting her handshake. "Nice to meet you, Leslie. My lovely wife over there is Joan."

"Oh, I love this newer generation of out and proud love," Leslie smiled wistfully. "It’s so beautiful to see. Such a beautiful couple too. Is this your first time at the resort?"

"Thank you, Leslie," you replied sincerely, touched by her kindness. "Yes, it's our first time here. We heard wonderful things about the resort and couldn't resist experiencing it for ourselves."

“And how do you like it?” Her eyes sparkled with interest.

"It's been quite lovely so far," You added. “It’s been a while since we’ve taken a proper vacation together. I’m so excited for the week we’re here.”

Leslie's excitement was contagious as she spoke about the upcoming events at the resort. "You’re going to be blown away by all of the events this week," she grinned. "There’s a special bonfire tomorrow night that’s simply fabulous. It’s intimate and cozy. Allows you to make friends on vacation."

Your interest was piqued at the mention of the bonfire, as it hadn’t been mentioned in any of the research you’d done. Maybe it was a new development."That sounds wonderful," you replied with genuine enthusiasm, masking any hint of suspicion behind your smile. "We'll definitely have to check it out."

“You absolutely should,” Leslie began to stand. “It would be wonderful for a lovely couple like you to grace us with your presence.” Leslie’s aching bones limited her mobility as she shuffled around the chairs. “I’m going to the bathroom. If Frank wakes up, which I doubt he will, be a dear and tell him I’ll be back.”

“Will do, Leslie,” You nodded, offering a warm smile. She seemed nice enough. You returned your gaze to Natasha to see that she was engaged in a conversation of her own. Seems that people naturally gravitated to both of you.

*******************

For the first time in days, Natasha found a moment of peace at the bar. She settled onto one of the stools, swaying gently to the rhythm of the music as she signaled to the bartender. As he approached Natasha did a quick once over of his body. Something someone of his attractiveness would be used to. His dark, mahogany skin glowed with a natural warmth, complemented by a smile that seemed to light up the entire bar.

His hair, a messy of glossy curls, framed his face in a wild and untamed mane, adding to his charm.

He was dressed in a crisp white shirt and black pants that appeared to be the uniform for all of the staff.

"Hello," Natasha greeted him with a warm smile, her tone playful yet composed. "I'll take a strawberry and lemon mojito, and hmm," she paused, pressing a finger to her chin in contemplation. She was completely in character at the moment. "Surprise me. Something fruity."

"Coming right up," he replied with a nod, before stepping over to his work area.

Natasha watched him for a few moments longer before her eyes trailed over the pool area, she couldn't help but notice the diverse display of people and their lively parties. Briefly, her gaze flickered in your direction, a silent acknowledgment of your presence. You managed to look so relaxed already. Though she could see the subtle ways your eyes would flick over the pool area whenever you laughed or spoke to the older woman sitting beside you.

“Hey, Henry, that couple’s here again.” A short woman with bone-straight brunette hair and botox lips informed him as she stepped behind the counter. She did quick work of washing her hands and gathering abandoned dishes on the bar. Natasha squinted to see her name tag. Blanca. A fitting name.

“Which one?” Henry, the bartender Natasha had spoken to moments earlier, briefly glanced over to her.

“The one with the dog,” Blanca sighed. “Don’t know why Jorge keeps allowing them to bring it. He’s anxious and it’s too hot out here for him anyway.”

Henry furrowed his brow in concern, glancing briefly in the direction of the couple with the dog approaching. "That doesn't sound good," he remarked."Have they caused any trouble?"

Blanca shook her head, her lips pursed in disapproval. "Not yet, but it's only a matter of time. You know how Jorge is, always bending the rules for certain guests."

Natasha's mind raced with possibilities as she listened to their conversation. The mention of Jorge and his leniency towards certain guests hinted at a potential breach in security or protocol.

“Here you are ma’am,” Henry passed Natasha both drinks before she stood to walk back to her seat.

As she passed the couple, the dog in question moved over to sniff Natasha in greeting.

“Oh, hello there,” Natasha smiled warmly, reaching out a hand to give the dog a gentle pat on the head. This certainly wasn’t a service dog based on his relaxed demeanor.

“Oh, Ozzy is so friendly, I’m so sorry,” The woman with platinum blonde hair and several tattoos attached to the leash apologized to Natasha, a hint of concern in her voice.

Natasha waved off the apology with a gracious smile. "No need to apologize, he's quite adorable," she reassured the woman, her tone friendly and welcoming.

As Natasha continued interacting with the dog, she noted the couple's appearance and demeanor. Something about them didn't quite fit the typical resort guest profile of this caliber, and Natasha's instincts told her there might be more to their presence than meets the eye. They both seemed so uptight and frazzled.

Natasha gave them another smile and walked back over to you.

“Took you long enough my drink is probably watered-down liquor,” You pouted. “Eh, this is wow.” You coughed. It wasn’t nasty. It was strong and certainly had more alcohol than fruit somehow.

Natasha arched an eyebrow at your remark.

"Well, perhaps next time you can come behind the bar and make it yourself," she quipped, her tone laced with playful sarcasm. "Then you can ensure it meets your exacting standards."

“My existing standards led me to you,” You said through your teeth.

Natasha's lips curved into a smirk as she settled into the seat beside you, her gaze locking with yours in a silent exchange of understanding.

"Well, lucky me," she retorted. "I'll make sure to keep living up to those standards then."

"Does it ever end?" You fake whispered, turning your head towards Leslie, attempting to convey your thoughts discreetly.

Leslie caught your gaze and smiled kindly, her eyes reflecting understanding. At least she had the decency to pretend she wasn’t listening. "Oh, dear," she replied with a chuckle. "Sometimes it feels like it never does, but there's always a light at the end of the tunnel."

"J, this is Leslie," You introduced Natasha smoothly, seamlessly slipping into your cover story. "She’s my new best friend."

"It's lovely to meet you, Leslie," Natasha added with a friendly smile, her tone warm and genuine.

“Well, aren't you two just the sweetest pair," she remarked, her voice tinged with affection. "I'm delighted to make your acquaintance, Joan. I was telling your wife here about the bonfire tomorrow. It’s something special. You have to see it."

You nodded in agreement, your smile genuine as you responded. "We wouldn't miss it for the world, Leslie. Thank you for the recommendation. It sounds like a wonderful way to spend the evening."

As the conversation dwindled, eventually Leslie drifted over to the poolside and began to make conversation with a few older women. Natasha began to go through the bag she’d brought to the pool and found a small bottle of sunscreen.

"Here, rub this on me," She instructed you, handing you a bottle of sunscreen.

"Why?" you asked, a hint of confusion in your voice as you eyed her pale skin. "Didn’t you already put some on before?"

Natasha gave you a pointed look, her expression conveying a mixture of exasperation and amusement. "Don’t question the logic, just do it," she replied firmly, holding out her arm expectantly.

As you began applying sunscreen to Natasha's exposed skin, you couldn't help but feel a sense of resignation wash over you. Silently, you wondered why you had taken on this job in the first place. It wasn't that you were truly angry; in fact, you were the complete opposite.

This part of the mission had never been difficult before. Playing the part of a fake doting wife had practically become second nature to you. But being here with Natasha felt different. There was something about her presence that stirred emotions within you, emotions you hadn't expected to surface during the mission.

Natasha turned her back to you, dropping the straps of her swimsuit lower on her arms so you could reach her shoulders. The intimacy of the moment caught you off guard, and for a brief moment, you found yourself lost in the sensation of her warm skin beneath your fingertips.

As you rubbed the warm cream into Natasha's skin, the muscles of her back flexed slightly beneath your touch. You couldn't help but notice the way her body responded to your ministrations, and a rush of thoughts flooded your mind. They weren't entirely pure thoughts, and you couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt at the direction your mind was wandering.

But then, a small comfort washed over you - at least Natasha couldn't read minds. You silently thanked whatever higher power existed for that small mercy, grateful that your innermost thoughts remained your own.

"I think we could hang out by the pool for a few hours and then call it a night," Natasha suggested, her voice breaking the comfortable silence between you. "Maybe go over some things."

"Sounds like a plan," you replied, masking any hint of hesitation with a casual tone. "A bit of relaxation by the pool is exactly what I’m here for.”

“Only that?” Natasha looked over her shoulder to you. “And the beautiful women,” You muttered under your breath.

Natasha's expression shifted slightly, a flicker of annoyance crossing her features as she turned to face you fully. "Really?" she questioned, her voice carrying a note of exasperation.

You chuckled, recognizing her annoyance but unable to resist pushing her buttons just a little. "Hey, just stating the obvious," You replied with a shrug.

Natasha rolled her eyes. "Well, try to keep your eyes open okay?" she retorted, a touch of teasing in her tone despite her annoyance. “Don’t sleep with anyone behind my back.”

“I wouldn’t dare,” You pressed a hand to your chest, faking scandilization. “How dare you insinuate I would ever cheat on my beautiful, intelligent, and hot wife.”

“That drink was stronger than you’re letting on,” Natasha smirked knowingly.

“Maybe,” You shrugged. “I guess we’ll never know.” You sighed as you lounged in the chair, your head pointed towards the sun. Natasha turned in her chair to watch you for a few seconds longer before she laid back in her chair.

So far, there was nothing out of the ordinary about this place. It seemed like a typical resort, with sun-drenched pool areas, lush tropical foliage, and guests lounging lazily in the warm afternoon sun.

Everything appeared to be just as it should be, with no signs of the covert operations or clandestine activities that you had been tasked with uncovering.

Despite the lack of immediate danger or suspicious behavior, you remained vigilant, knowing that appearances could be deceiving.

next part

#natasha romanoff #natasha x reader #black reader #black widow x female reader #black widow x reader #natasha romanov #natasha x you

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honeyedmiller · 1 year ago

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Hiraeth | Joel Miller

pairing: dbf!joel x f!reader

rating: 18+, minors do not interact

warnings: no outbreak, usage of marijuana, smoking, both reader and Joel get high, age gap (twenty-ish years), very much legal + consensual relations, smut (f oral receiving, fingering), pet names, no use of y/n.

word count: 1k

synopsis: the most invigorating and intoxicating drug you’ve had in your life is completely forbidden… and then there’s weed.

divider by @saradika-graphics

hiraeth (noun): the feeling of being homesick for a home one is not able to return to; homesickness pertaining to a home that never was.

You took another hit, the joint slotted between your fingers crackling in urgency. You hummed as your lungs burned so good, desperate for the warm summer night air that engulfed your body. You closed your eyes as you let the high roll through your body, sighing in content.

Your legs were tossed over Joel’s lap—the same Joel you shouldn’t be anywhere near because he was supposed to be off limits. Your shorts were unbuttoned and your bright colored swimsuit bottoms peeked through, teasing Joel with a reminder of what you looked like in his pool just hours prior.

Joel threw neighborhood barbecues all the time, and with your dad being his best friend, you were always invited.

You knew it was wrong to be fucking your dad’s best friend, someone twenty—give or take—years your senior.

But how could something so wrong feel so right?

Joel tapped your leg and you peeked an eye open. He was looking down at you with bemusement written over his features, holding two fingers out for you to pass the nearly finished joint to him. You happily obliged, handing it off to him before settling back down into the depths of the comfy outdoor couch on Joel’s backyard patio.

Joel’s thumb was rubbing over your shin slowly, gently tracing circles into the freshly shaved flesh. Your eyes opened again and Joel was staring at you this time, eyes hooded and dark with desire.

“We’re lucky your father doesn’t hover.” Joel murmurs into the night, sighing as his free hand trails higher up your legs.

“I know. Then we wouldn’t be able to do all the things we’d want if he did hover.” You huff a laugh, and Joel quirks a brow at you before offering the last of the joint. You shook your head slightly, and he took one last hit before he stubbed out the dud.

“Things, hm?” He asks, hand dipping into the waistline of your shorts. His fingers skate over your covered cunt, and goosebumps easily rise onto your skin.

Your brain is foggy and you feel like you’re floating, and Joel’s touch feels like heaven.

“Will you let me eat your pretty pussy, baby?” Joel’s voice is husky, a lazy smirk pulled onto his velvet lips.

“Please.”

Your senses are elevated, so every single touch he gives you is one that has you reeling.

“Such a good girl, usin’ her manners n’ all.”

You bite your lip and look at him, eyes no doubt half-lidded. If you weren’t high, it probably would’ve been a sultry look.

Joel’s quick to take off your shorts, prompting you to sit upright so he can kneel down in front of you. His kisses up your thighs are all lips and tongue, making you breathe harder as he gets closer to your aching core. He kisses you once over the fabric of your bikini bottoms, and you softly whine his name.

“Patience, sweetheart. I’ll take good care of ya.”

Joel slips the material off of your legs, only to be met with your glistening core.

He’s looking at you like a man starved, irises black and laced with determination and desire.

He brings a hand up and runs two fingers through your slick folds, groaning at how easy the glide is. He brings his fingers up to his mouth, sucking on them both to taste you.

“So fuckin’ sweet. Like nectar from a peach, baby.” He moans, not wanting to waste any more time. He moves forward and, with a flat tongue, licks a long stripe from your aching hole to your puffy clit.

You gasp and your fingers are tangling in his curls, eyebrows threading together at how intensified it feels.

And he doesn’t relent. He’s working at you with his tongue, slow and lascivious. Every fiber of your being tingles with a euphoric pleasure as he laps up your seemingly never ending arousal.

“Holy fuck,” You cry, gripping his hair tighter. He moans into you with a chuckle before he brings his tongue down to fuck into you at an increased pace. Your back arches off of the couch as you roll your hips, legs starting to shake.

“Close already, baby?” Joel tsks, and you groan in response.

Joel knew you and your body like the back of his hand, so he could easily make you come undone within minutes.

Sometimes it wasn’t fair, because if it were up to you, you’d have him down there forever. You don’t think he’d really mind it either.

Joel moves his tongue out of you and up up up toward your aching clit, licking tight circles around it before sucking the sensitive nerves into his mouth. He inserts the two fingers that were previously teasing you minutes prior into your needy cunt, expertly pumping at a synchronized pace with his mouth.

“Jesus fuck Joel, ‘m gonna come.” Your voice is whiny and desperate and so fucking breathy that you barely even recognize it. It was only him that could make you feel like this. Nobody else, just Joel.

Joel Joel Joel.

You felt the crescendo of your orgasm building quickly, and Joel pulled his mouth away for a split second as his fingers curled themselves in your tight heat to hit that spot that make you see the whole galaxy behind your eyes.

“Can feel it, sweet girl. C’mon baby. Give it t’me. Wanna drink you up.”

And you were a fucking goner. Your eyes rolled back as that tight coil snapped, rushing through your body so intensely it nearly made you dizzy. You gushed onto his fingers and in his mouth, and he drank up every last thing you offered him.

You were desperate to catch your breath, body unsubstantial as you melted into the couch. You winced as Joel slowly pulled out his fingers, groaning at the loss of fullness.

You open your tired eyes to look at him, and he gives you a soft smile before kissing you. You taste yourself on him, but he also tastes like mint and whiskey and Joel.

He made you feel so invigorated. You couldn’t get enough of him. He felt safe. He felt like home.

Maybe in another life—one where he wasn’t your dad’s best friend and where he wasn’t twenty something years older than you—

You could be selfish for once and have it all.

tags: @party-hearses ; @ilovepedro ; @punkshort ; @tinygarbage ; @amanitacowboy ; @nostalxgic ; @pascalpvnk ; @cool-iguana

#joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #dbf! joel smut #dbf!joel miller #dbf!joel #joel miller x female reader #dbf!joel miller x f!reader #dbf!joel miller x you #joel miller one shot #joel miller imagine #joel miller au #joel miller fanfic

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blckbrrybasket · 4 months ago

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18. “I was made for loving you”

Steve Harrington x Gn!Reader

꒰Praise Kink + Body Worship꒱ - 641

• took this in a different way i’m so sorry, fluff so much fluff, mentions of scars and Steve’s demobat scars, dating

kinktober m.list

Summer was the time for ice cream, freedom, and of course, swimming at the pool. Luckily for you, your boyfriend was a certified lifeguard with his own pool meaning you no longer had to take a dip in the public pool that was surely filled with bodily fluids you didn’t want to touch.

Steve was always happy to lend you his pool. Getting to see you in tiny little swimsuits, or nothing at all? Heaven on Earth. He’d take anything he could get when being able to see you. If you showed up in skiing clothes to take a dip in his pool he’d still go crazy because you were in his pool.

Night swimming with you was his favorite. There was a larger chance you’d go without a bathing suit, letting him see you. Currently, you were sitting on the edge of his pool, bare legs dangling into the water. The ripples created by the sweeping motion moved to lap at Steve’s chest.

Steve’s hair was soaked, pushed back to stop the droplets on his hair from getting into his eyes. He didn’t want his view of you to be skewed by the water. He was shameless in the way his eyes were trained on your nude body. “Enjoying the view, pretty boy?” Caught.

He grinned and extended his arms, cutting them through the water so he could swim up in front of you. “Oh yeah. Is that even a question?” Steve stopped just between your spread legs and looked up at you with something akin to reverence shining in his eyes.

“You can’t expect me not to stare.” You rolled your eyes, foot gently smacking his shoulder, his hand shooting out to grab it. “I never said you couldn’t.” Steve held onto your foot, turning it to the side to kiss the inside of your ankle. “Good.”

“Cause you’re far too pretty to look away from.” Front two teeth sinking into your bottom lip, you stifle a smile as Steve presses another kiss to your calf. If he could spend the rest of his life between your legs he would. Steve never wanted to waste another moment on something other than you. “My sweet boy,” you praised, hand petting his wet hair.

Steve groaned, nipping at your leg, lips soothing the spot soon after. You knew what praise did to his pretty little head; mucking it up and making it too fuzzy to think straight. Continuing, you kindly scratched his scalp. “Sweet, pretty boy. I love you so much, babe.” He sighed, kissing the inside of your thigh.

“I love you,” he repeated back. “Love you, love your body.” Steve peppered kisses over your thigh, over any blemish, scar, or beauty mark he could find across your skin. He wanted to prove to you how much he loved you, all of you. It wasn’t some pettier high school version of love anymore. It was real and true and one he hoped lasted for his life.

“How romantic, you love my body,” you joked. “I love it because it keeps you here, alive.” Steve’s words struck a chord far deeper than he expected. The scars on both of you could attest to how hard your bodies have fought to keep you alive. He wouldn’t stop loving yours for saving you until long after he was dead.

You gulped silently, looking down at him in the same way he watched you. “I love you,” you said again, unable to think of any other words to express your deep adoration. Steve smiled, leaning forward to press a kiss to your sex. “I love you,” he murmured against your heated skin. “Let me take care of your body.”

He would take care of you like you’ve taken care of him and take care of your body the way it’s taken care of you.

tags: @babybatlover, @starrgurl46, @wowzers-07, @nenukkjhj, @morgan0lw21, @kinokomoonshine, @slut4ddn, @adventures-of-impala

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington oneshot #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington stranger things #stranger things steve harrington #steve harrington reader insert #steve harrington #kinktober 2024 #kinktober

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hannibals-favourite-meal · 6 months ago

Note

Congratulations on the milestone love✨🎉

For my request, 'walking in on the other' with Steve Rogers? Or with any marvel character, whatever you see fit!

Thank you 💙

.⋆｡Midnight Swim｡⋆.

Steve Rogers x plus size reader

Being on the run doesn’t exactly get you a comfortable life, but finally, there’s a chance for you to relax, if only you could find your swimsuit… or not

Warnings: skinny dipping, nudity (obvi), brief mentions of the events of Civil War, implied smut WC: 1.4k

6k Follower Celebration Bingo

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

You ached, putting it lightly. Months of running from virtually every government on the planet didn’t exactly give you the luxury of relaxing or unwinding after a long day. The rooms you stayed in never had baths to soak in or even a comfy mattress to sink into so when Steve announced that the motel you were going to had not only a jacuzzi but also king sized beds, you thought you had died and gone to heaven.

“I hope you don’t mind sleeping on the floor, gorgeous, cause I will be spread eagle on that bed.” Sam wrapped an arm around your shoulder as you climbed the cement steps up to the second floor.

“Don’t worry about me birdie, that hot tub is calling my name.” You moaned, giving the man a light shove.

“We leave at sunup, don’t get too comfortable.” Steve’s voice broke the little bubble of happiness around the two of you. You looked back at the man, his brow was furrowed, the muscles in his jaw clenching. It wasn’t hard to see that he was different now; gone was the hopeful and starry eyed golden boy, instead you were left with a man who was only trying to survive in the face of complete betrayal of everything he held dear. Throw in a beard and a whole new uniform, Captain America was no more.

“C’mon Steve, we can afford a couple days of rest. We’re all exhausted.” Natasha laid a hand on his arm. “Besides, I think we all need to have a proper shower and do laundry.” You smiled gratefully at her as Steve sighed.

“Alright, just don’t draw too much attention to yourselves. Nat, how about you room with Sam?”

“It’s my turn to get Y/L/N.” Sam stopped in front of the door to his room, shooting a puzzled look at you. Nat matched his expression but still stepped forward to take your spot next to the man.

“We both know you’re gonna fall asleep immediately, just like Nat, and if Y/N is going down to the pool, someone needs to stay up to make sure she’s ok.” Steve shoved the key in the door, not bothering to even look in your direction. You met Sam’s gaze but he could only shrug at you as Nat wiggled her eyebrows.

Of course the woman knew about your crush on the ex-Captain, given that it was the one reason you had yet to room with him despite the rotating roommates you agreed to when you went on the run. Your stomach rolled as you tried to come up with any excuse to not walk in that room and have to face the reality of sharing a bed with the man who’s responsible for the mass ruining of your panties.

The light in the room clicked on just as the door next to yours snapped shut. “Fuck me.” You hiked your duffle bag higher on your shoulder, took a deep breath and stepped inside.

Steve had already dropped his bag on the side of the bed closest to the door and shed the heavy jacket that shielded his toned physique from the world. He barely glanced at you as you entered but you knew his guard was still up, you doubted it had ever come down since what happened at the airport.

“You don’t have to wait up for me. No one else is staying here, the front desk guy said so himself.” You unzipped your bag.

“It’s my job to look after you.” He retorted. You huffed and started pulling out your clothes in search of the singular bikini you had managed to obtain in your ‘travels’.

“Really? What’s your 401k look like?” Even without seeing it, you knew he was rolling his eyes at you. “Dammit.” You hissed as your fingers brushed the bottom of the bag, no trace of the thin material in sight.

Steve turned from the desk where he had laid out a map of the area and raised an eyebrow at you. “I lost my swimsuit,” Your shoulders dropped in disappointment, “No hot tub for me I guess.”

You shoved the empty bag and pile of clothes onto the floor before flopping down onto the bed. “This sucks.”

The desk chair creaked. “Just go in your underwear.”

Your head turned against the sheets, the thick cotton of the duvet brushing against your cheek. Steve was leaned forward, elbows planted firmly on his knees. Dark blue eyes stared right through you and suddenly, you couldn’t remember why you were upset. “Um, yeah I guess. But I don’t have any extra bras at the moment though.” You gestured to your discarded clothes.

Steve’s lip quirked up briefly before settling back into his now usual stern expression. “I’ll wash your stuff for you in the morning.”

“Since when do you offer to do other people’s laundry?” Your hands slid up to rest beneath your head.

“I’ve been pushing all of you too hard. Maybe I want to start making it up to you.” He leaned back in the chair, the sheer mass of his seeming to grow as he rolled his broad shoulders. Unable to help yourself, you let your eyes trace the sharp muscles of his arms. It had been a long time since he was this relaxed in front of you.

“So maybe there is a bit of America’s Golden Boy still left in there.” He rolled his eyes and turned back to the desk.

“Go, before I change my mind.” You slinked off the bed with a smile.

“Don’t wait up.” You cooed as the motel door shut behind you.

——————

The silence was a welcome friend. No cars or sirens, just the soft bubbling of the jets and your own happy groans as your body finally unwound. Steam billowed up from the water, disappearing into the night sky, brushing against the stars. The heat bled into your bones and it was all you could do to not melt.

You felt like you could wash away everything from this past year.

You sank deeper into the water, the gentle ripples now brushed your neck, making you hum in satisfaction.

“Y/N, I was thinking that maybe I could grab some takeout from that 24 hour restaurant we passed a little while back, you hungry?” You lazily looked back over your shoulder just as Steve slipped past the high fence that enclosed the space. You watched as his gaze travelled from your body over to the pile of clothes on the deck, your panties and bra prominently displayed on top.

“Sure, I could eat.” You shrugged, swallowing down a smile at his now blank expression. Steve was frozen in place as the realisation dawned on him.

“Doll.” A shiver ran through you, that was definitely very new. A sudden confidence filled your veins as you watched his Adam's apple bob.

“Steven.” You turned around so that you were now kneeling on the bench, the water now barely covering your breasts. Blue eyes slowly trailed down from your face, following the droplets of water that clung to your skin. “Actually, now that I’m thinking about it, I don’t think I’m craving take out.”

The water lapped at your stomach as you sat up. Steve’s eyes immediately darted to your face as a deep blush crawled up his neck. “Doll, what is your underwear doing on the deck?”

“I think that’s quite obvious Cap.” The muscles in his jaw rolled as his expression grew darker. Heat curled in your stomach. “I didn’t want to get them wet. Well, more wet than they already were.”

“It’s dangerous to be out here alone like this.” He took a tentative step towards you, the lock on the gate clicking shut.

“Well then, it’s a good thing I have you here to protect me.” You sank back into the water, moving backwards until you could sit on the other side, giving yourself the perfect view of the super soldier. His jacket dropped first, then the ratty baseball cap that covered his darker hair. You bit your lip as his t-shirt followed.

There was a spattering of light hair across his chest, getting thicker and darker along his torso, until it disappeared beneath his pants. His hands interrupted your view but you wouldn’t complain, not when they were undoing his belt. You fought a moan as the button popped open and his fly was slowly drawn down.

“You gonna join me Cap? The water is just perfect.” The dark material of his jeans slid down and you wondered if Commando was a better fitting title for the man.

Steve smirked as he stepped into the tub. “I have to look out for you don’t I?” His hands grabbed at your wide hips and tugged you against his body effortlessly. “It is my job.”

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