#bubbles is a lightweight
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i hate how tumblr makes the last image the biggest, ugh
#my art#powerpuff girls#ppg#ppg fanart#powerpuff girls fanart#artists on tumblr#ppg x rrb#ppg bubbles#powerpuff bubbles#rrb#rowdyruff boys#rrb brick#rowdyruff brick#brickubbles#bubbles x brick#brick x bubbles#brickxbubbles#bubblesxbrick#bubbles is a lightweight
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[DRABBLES LIST] Drink Me: I will write a drabble about my character taking shots with yours. // for Abel from Esther ( @cpirits )
Master Post of ALL Drabbles (thanks to mistresslokilaufeyson)
@cpirits

Abel wasn't a drinker, being a clergyman would do that. However, if it was with Esther, he would be willing to make the exception. Shots of gin and other alcoholic beverages were going around at the local pup. Abel figured something light would be appropriate for the two of them. So he ordered Vodka soda.
"Cheers!" He said happily before downing it with ease.
"Ahhh! I can see why so many enjoy the taste of alcohol." He chuckled.
#Bubbly yet bloody(Abel Nightroad)#cpirits#Abel is a lightweight when it comes to alcohol#Boy cannot hold his liquor to save his life
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Benefits of Heavy Duty Bubble Mailers

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#heavy duty bubble mailers#heavy duty poly mailers#heavy duty mailers#durable bubble mailers#protective packaging#shipping supplies#cost-effective mailers#lightweight mailers
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people headcanoning that Dr. Ratio is a lightweight is just adding to my collection of "blorbos who are lightweight/low alcohol tolerance in canon & fanon"
they're like pokemon at this point.
anyways, I agree with lightweight Ratio. Let's keep this up!! That man has bad alcohol tolerance!! Trust me!!
#ari rambles#i dont feel like tagging him.#god the amount of blorbos i love that are lightweights are sending me#also the fact that the hc is ratio is lightweight and he is a bit bubbly and silly when drunk is even beter#yes#please preach the word of this to all
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Risky Business
word count: 5.5k
contains: modern/college au, no preestablished romantic relationships (viktor and reader are besties that torment jayce /hj), frat bro/lacrosse player!jayce, honors student!viktor, art kid!reader, switch!jayce, dom!viktor, switch!reader, bottom!jayce, top!viktor, alcohol, weed, drug use, stoner!viktor & stoner!reader, oral sex (blowjob & pussy eat), anal sex, cock milking, safe sex & proper use of lube!!! (wrap it before you tap it & never do anal without lube), doggy style, too many mentions of prostate/cock/dick/pussy/cunt, praise kink, corruption kink, virgin!jayce, teasing, praise, pet names (golden boy/darling/sweetheart/baby), vaginal sex, somewhat animalistic/rough sex, we swallow not spit, cervix bruising, multiple orgasms, jayce aims to please, jayce’s cock is too powerful, lightweight!jayce (bro can't handle the weed), viktor and reader are menaces, one off mention of public sex, humiliation if you squint
summary: jayce embarks on a spiritual journey of sex, drugs, and rock n' roll with the help of his two hottest classmates at his fraternity's risky business themed party.
a/n: shoutout to this fic's beta reader @zevrra <3 they're awesome and write amazing arcane content!
Stale booze, pungent smoke from loosely rolled joints, and people making out in every room of the house are the trifecta of a typical frat house party. Yet, things have been turned up to a hundred and fifty for Greek Week’s Battle of the Greeks, each frat and sorority house on the Row competing to be the Greek Life chapter. For Piltover University’s Sigma Phi Delta, Greek Week means maintaining their incumbent title.
Jayce, the newest recruit and brother, has the most unfortunate task for the party: keeping drunken idiots from destroying every inch of the frat house. Not that he minds, of course! Despite his charming looks and demeanor, Jayce Talis despises parties. Sure, a party of twenty people or less is fine, but a party at this level of insanity? Pure nightmare fuel.
To make matters worse for poor Jayce, someone from Sigma Phi Delta (he has his suspicion of who was responsible, a certain snobby blonde named Allira Salo) had suggested Risky Business as the theme for this year’s Battle of the Greeks. Now, here’s Jayce, standing by the drinks table in nothing but grey boxers, crew socks, and the longest button down he could find. D.M.S.R. by Prince plays over the speakers, a staple from the movie and the perfect party song.
Jayce nurses a Red Solo cup of cheap liquor in his hands, but he hadn’t taken a single sip. Whenever a frat brother or chatty drunk girl would come up to him, Jayce would feign drinking and laugh like a gleeful drunkard, playing along in the hopes they would skitter away to their next victim.
“Not much of a drinker, huh?” someone shouts to him over the loud beat of the funk track. Jayce looks down–he has to look down at everyone on the campus–and sees you, a classmate from his ART 106 class, Drawing for Non-Majors. Everyone pursuing a degree at Piltover University is required to take a “Creativity and Creative Development” class as part of their core curriculum. Drawing for Non-Majors happens to be the only art Jayce believes he could net an easy ‘A’ in.
“How could you tell?” he yells back, as the music switches to The Dream is Always the Same, a somewhat psychedelic song. You tease the rim of your cup, bubbling lemon-lime soda inside, “You’re the least giddy frat boy at the party.”
Jayce eyes the way you guide your manicured finger around the cup and has to tear away his gaze to answer, “Yeah, makes sense. I got tasked with ‘drunk dumbass’ duty, so it’s better to be sober if some ass tries to pick a fight and break something.”
You give a nod and hold up your cup to Jayce, “Care for some Sprite then?”
Jayce’s eyes widen at your offer, “But you,” he blinks his surprise away, “That’s your drink.”
“Sharing is caring,” you chuckle.
Jayce grabs the cup from you and examines it; never has he taken an already consumed drink from someone else, nonetheless from a cute girl like you. It’s like an indirect kiss! Oh, Jayce Talis–the cheesy romantic–is not one to kiss and tell, but he could count on one hand how many people he has kissed. Now or never. Jayce takes a timid sip from the cup and relishes in the refreshing taste, “Oh God, I needed that.”
“Good!” you take the cup back and down the rest of it. Now, this is an indirect kiss! Jayce’s tanned cheeks warm up at the realization and he fans himself with his free hand. Seeing his overheated face, you tilt your head and ask, “Too hot? Wanna come with me to a cooler spot?”
“Oh! Uh,” the frat boy runs through the possible outcomes if he does or doesn’t follow you. What if a fight happens while he’s occupied? What if you think he’s a bummer for not joining you? What if– “You don’t have to,” you add on and shrug, “If you don’t wanna.”
“No!” he exclaims, a bit too loud. Jayce quickly masks his enthusiasm with a fake cough, “Lead the way,” he flashes you his ‘Golden Boy’ smile. Please don’t think I’m an inexperienced loser.
“Cool,” you toss your cup in the nearby trash can and grab Jayce by the wrist, barely able to wrap your whole hand around it. Through the mobs of partying sorority girls, people cheering on a frat brother’s keg stand, and folks getting way too into dancing, you lead Jayce outside to the back of the frat house. A few party attendees are lounging about in the backyard, some of which are couples making out or people exchanging joints.
“Viktor!” you call out. Sitting around some abandoned lawn chairs, a thin man with shaggy shoulder-length hair and a flannel perks up. He waves the two of you over and you each find a chair to occupy. Jayce examines the stickers on Viktor’s cane.
“Hey,” Viktor greets you both, his accent rich and thick.
“H- Hey,” Jayce attempts to be nonchalant, but fails miserably when his baritone voice cracks into soprano range. He recognizes Viktor from many of his engineering classes, but he never had the opportunity to chat one on one with him. Yet, judging by the hordes of engineering students seeking the cane user out for tutoring, Jayce doesn’t want to come off as needing such assistance–well, some assistance would be appreciated–or that he would use Viktor for it.
“Cute,” Viktor lets out a deep chuckle, honey amber eyes glowing almost eerily under the full moon’s light, “The Golden Boy’s a bit shy, huh?”
“Oh, for sure,” you snort. Jayce pouts and averts his eyes from the two of you, only to have you tilt his chin back up with the tip of your finger, “We only tease in good faith,” you coo, “I take it that you know Jayce, Vik?”
“Everyone does,” he answers. Jayce pouts again and Viktor stifles back a laugh, “Also he’s my classmate in about half of my classes,” the pretty haired–Pretty haired?! Jayce, get it together!–boy leans closer and Jayce can smell the familiar stink of weed on his flannel, “I thoroughly enjoyed seeing your Rube Goldberg machine unfold during our class with Professor Hemingdinger.”
“Haha, yeah, that machine,” the engineering student cringes. You raise your eyebrows at the exchange, “Oh no, what happened?”
“The concept was ingenious, I must say,” states Viktor, “A creative way to dispense a cup of coffee for our dear professor,” Jayce buries his face into his sleeves of his varsity jacket, as Viktor continues, “However, Jayce miscalculated the placement of the coffee pot.”
“Don’t tell me,” your cheeks puff up to hold back your laughter.
“Cue our poor professor drenched in coffee!” the cane user laughs. You break and join in, boisterous laughter ringing through Jayce’s ears. The frat boy peers up at the exchange and comments, “At- At least, it was lukewarm coffee…”
“Thank God,” you calm down from your laughing fit, “If it was any warmer, I’m afraid that you would have been sued,” Viktor nods along in agreement. Jayce runs his large, veiny hands through his clean-cut hair, “Okay, okay. Enough is enough.”
“Sorry,” you throw an arm around Jayce’s shoulders and pull him close, the scent of your strawberry perfume strong and intoxicating to the frat boy, “We can make it up to you, if you want.”
“How so?” he inquires.
You give Viktor a wink and he returns it with a thumbs up. Viktor snatches his worn out satchel from the leaf-covered ground and rummages through its content. It takes a moment or two before Viktor procures the object of desire, a baggie of green flowery clumps.
“Please tell me that’s oregano,” Jayce pleads.
“Nope,” the cane user confirms, “One hundred percent pure marijuana.”
“Don’t worry! Vik has a med card, so it’s like… totally legal,” you reassure Jayce with a pat on the cheek. Jayce bites his tongue to prevent himself from saying something utterly stupid, “Are you sure it’s okay? We won’t get in trouble?” Okay, nevermind, he does say something utterly stupid.
“As long as you’re not a narc,” replies Viktor. He sets the baggie down and pulls a few more items from his satchel: rolling paper, filter paper, and a grinder, “Watch the master at work,”
Viktor grinds up a clump of flower; once properly grounded up to his liking, he places the filter paper on one end of the rolling paper, followed by the flower. He rolls it up flawlessly and seals it, producing a perfectly made joint, before making two more joints.
“Here,” he holds out a joint to Jayce. With shaky hands, Jayce accepts the joint with visible hesitation, almost dropping in the process. You squeeze his shoulder and murmur, “Don’t worry, the first time can be scary, but we can help you.”
“How?” questions Jayce. A sparkle of mischief flickers in your eyes, “Lemme show you,” you hop off your lawn chair and approach Viktor. You plop down on his lap and throw your legs over the arm of the chair, twirling a strand of Viktor’s tousled locks, “Light me up, baby.”
Viktor pulls out a silver lighter from his jeans pocket and you place the joint between your lips, letting it dangle. Jayce watches with bated breath, as Viktor flicks the lighter open and holds the flame by your joint. Once lit, you take a drag of it and inhale some of the smoke. You pull the joint out, cheeks puffed out with smoke, and beckon Viktor to come closer. Leaning in, you press your lips against Viktor’s and exhale, allowing the thinner man to consume the rest of the smoke, as the two of you kiss.
Jayce gawks at the sight of you making out, the way you tug at Viktor’s hair and the way he grips at your sides stirs something inside the frat boy, “And that’s called shotgunning!” you finish the kiss up and inform Jayce, “Just make sure you part your lips before I shotgun you, or else we’ll waste some good smoke,” you offer him a lopsided smile, “Wanna give it a try?”
“Sure,” he nods. You move from Viktor’s lap and onto Jayce’s, the joint still lit in your hand. Jayce swallows any fear away, as you lay the joint between your lips and breathe in the smoke, the lit end lighting up with the inhalation. You pass the joint over to Viktor for him to hold and he steals a few hits, as you moved closer and closer and–
Jayce’s lips connect with yours and he parts them just enough for you to push smoke into his mouth. It travels down his throat and into his lungs, burning and irritating. Jayce breaks away from the kiss to cough, spluttering out hot smoke. You rub his back while he hacks up a lung, “Yikes, yeah, that happens a lot to beginners.”
“Have some water,” Viktor passes off his water bottle and Jayce snatches it, drinking up all the liquid like a dehydrated man crawling through the Sahara Desert. He coughs a bit more up and finally settles down, “When does this-” he cuts himself off, as a fuzzy feeling suddenly clouds his mind. Jayce closes his eyes, then opens them, and then closes them again, “Wow,” he giggles, “Feels nice…”
“Please tell me that he didn’t just get high off one hit,” begs Viktor.
“I think he got high off one hit,” you answer. You prepare yourself to disembark from Jayce’s lap, but stop yourself, “Jayce,” he looks at you with wide eyes, “Yeah?”
“Why are you hard?” you question him.
Jayce’s eyeballs nearly popped out of their sockets at your inquiry. He jerks his head down and sees his predicament, a noticeable tent in his boxers. His face turns a deep shade or crimson red, “N- No, fuck, I’m so so so sorry- I don’t know why-”
You place a finger against his lips to shush, “Don’t worry, baby. We’ll take care of you,” you whisper into his ear and stroke his cheek with your thumb, “I know for a fact that you find me and Viktor very attractive, mhm? I saw the way you looked at us while we kissed.”
“And so what if I do?” the frat boy retorts, puffing out his chest in an effort to appear manly and confident. Yet, his resolve crumbles the moment you press your chest up against his torso, the fabric of your shirts being the only barrier, “We find you very attractive, too.”
Between the haze dulling his brain and the lustful stares of two stunning individuals on him, Jayce Talis caves in and whimpers to you, “Please, take care of me.”
“Good boy,” you peck him on the lips, “Show us the way to your room.”
Like an obedient pup, Jayce rapidly nods and helps you off his lap. Viktor nearly chokes on his joint when he sees Jayce’s boner, “What the fuck, you’re huge,” and earns a slap to the back of the head from you, “Don’t announce it!” you hiss to him, “He’s ours.”
Those two or so words send shivers down Jayce’s spine. He’s ours. All Jayce ends is to be wanted; his efforts on the lacrosse team, his performance in class, everything he does is motivated by his need to be praised. He squeezes himself between you and Viktor in a line as a makeshift hiding spot for his boner and guides the two of you back inside the frat house. You three weave and dodge various obstacles, such as neglected soda cans and a sorority girl threatening to puke on you. Upstairs, a few people are scattered about the hallway, but none pay any mind to you all. You make your way to Jayce’s room and he opens the door, allowing you and Viktor to enter.
Jayce’s room is somewhat stereotypical of an athletic frat boy with messy bedsheets and posters of famous athletes on his wall. However, he has a few so-called nerdy things in his room, including a mechanical model of the Solar System and a Lego-built U.S.S Enterprise from Star Trek. You make yourself comfortable on Jayce’s bed while Viktor borrows the desk chair and Jayce sits on the floor.
“Sooooooo…” the lacrosse player twiddles his thumbs, “How do we fix this?”
“What do you mean?” Viktor scoffs, “Haven’t you gotten a blowjob or a handjob before?”
Jayce’s silence speaks volumes and you connect the dots, “Oh. My. God. Jayce fucking Talis is a virgin.”
“No! I’m- well-” the virginal accused racks his brain to deny the allegations, “It’s- Ugh, okay, it’s true,” he confirms to you and Viktor, “It’s not that I have a vow of celibacy or anything, just that I wanted to save it for someone special.”
“It’s kinda cute,” you giggle softly while Viktor jokes, “And they say chivalry is dead. Good on you for defying frat bro stereotypes.”
“Are you gonna tease me all night or is one of you gonna choke on my fucking cock already?” Jayce’s filter went offline, the effects of weed taking more of an effect.
“Don’t have to ask me twice,” answers Viktor. You blow him a ‘good luck’ kiss and get cozy for the show. Viktor rises from the chair and leads Jayce to the bed; he sits down next to you, now face level to Jayce’s pelvis, “Drop those boxers, Golden Boy.”
Jayce tugs down his boxers and haphazardly shakes them off his legs. Now free from its confinement, his cock bounces freely, on display for you and Viktor to admire. Viktor sizes up Jayce’s dick—as thick as his wrist and as long as one and a half pencils stacked—and mumble to himself, “Damn, this is a virgin killer.”
“Impressed?” Jayce strikes the Superman pose and smiles. Viktor wraps a hand around his cock and gives it a light tug, watching as Jayce’s cockiness vanishes in an instant, “Yeah. It’s pretty impressive,” Viktor lines his lips up to the top of Jayce’s dick and opens his mouth, carefully sliding him inside. A soft moan tumbles Jayce’s lips from the sensation, as Viktor’s hot and wet mouth costs his cock. Inch by inch, Viktor takes more and more of Jayce’s length until he gets all but an inch in, a small bulge pointing from under his Adam’s Apple. Testing the waters, Viktor goes agonizingly slow with the blowjob, taking his sweet time to pull back until only the tip is inside.
“Please go faster,” Jayce whines. Viktor lets out a muffled chuckle, the vibration ever so pleasant against Jayce’s shaft, and picks up the pace. He bobs his head up and down the length of Jayce’s cock, occasionally running his tongue down the prominent vein underneath and twirling it around the mushroom tip. Combined with the weed, Jayce is experiencing pure bliss, as he jerks his hips forward and shoves his dick deeper down Viktor’s throat. The smaller man gags at the sudden change, but quickly recovers, letting Jayce fuck his throat. Jayce thrusts his pelvis forward and slams his cock deep inside Viktor, gripping the receiver’s shoulders for extra support. Spit leaks from Viktor’s mouth, his hooked nose smacking into Jayce’s well-trimmed pubes, as Jayce assaults his throat with his fat cock.
“Oh, shit!” the lacrosse player grunts, “I think I’m gonna-” he doesn’t have time to warn Viktor before climaxing, shooting sticky hot cum down the other man’s throat. Once positive that Jayce had finished orgasming, Viktor unhinges himself from the taller man’s cock and coughs up some cum. He swipes it off his lips and licks it off his fingers, “Salty.”
“Did you swallow all of that?” you ask, eyes as big as saucers, “He came for- like- two whole minutes.”
“Spitters are quitters,” he jests in retort. You playfully smack his arm and turn your attention to Jayce, “How are you feeling?”
“Amazing,” he pants, face flustered, “Just one issue, though.”
“What’s up?” you furrow your eyebrows.
“I’m still hard,” the frat bro points downward, his cock still hard as a rock. Viktor looks over at you and rasps, “Tapping you in.”
“More than happy to have my turn, take five to recover,” you tell Viktor. He leaves the bed and returns to the desk chair, massaging his throat. You focus in on Jayce and pull him onto the bed, “Ready to try some pussy?” you coo.
Eager, Jayce nods in response, his mouth salivating at the thought of eating you out. You obligate his desires and strip yourself of your jeans, leaving only your cherry red undies left, “Take them off and have a look.”
Jayce follows your command without question, pulling your panties down your thighs and off your legs. You spread your legs open and Jayce bears witness to his first ever not porn-related pussy. Some wetness spills from your slit and onto the bed, you’re simply drenched. He hooks his hands around your legs and pulls you closer to his face, inhaling the smell of your divine cunt. The scent alone sends Jayce into a needy state, rutting his weeping cock against the mattress for some form of relief. Yet, he wants—no, needs—to focus on the task at hand, pleasing you.
“Give it a try, I’ll guide you,” you inform Jayce. With a timid nod, the frat bro dives right in and licks a long stripe from the bottom of your entrance to the top of your clit. You shudder and curl your toes, as Jayce experiments with a variety of methods. He sucks on your clit, first gentle then hard, altering to see which one you like more. It seems that you prefer hard, taking sharp breaths whenever he sucks like so. Above, you rip off your T-shirt and bra, freeing your breasts. You gesture for Viktor to come over and he does, finding a suitable position before latching onto one of your tits. Sweet mewls escape your lips while your boys have their way with you, Jayce now confident enough to devour your cunt like an animal and Viktor groping at your unoccupied tit while he suckles the other.
“Fuck!” you croak out a shaky moan, as the knot in your stomach snaps, releasing a wet wave onto Jayce’s mouth and face. He happily laps up your juices, consuming every ounce he possibly could. You give yourself a minute to recover, Viktor laying beside you and tracing miscellaneous shapes on your skin while Jayce rests his head on your thighs.
“Good job, boys,” you announce. You give each man a tender kiss on the lips as a reward, “You two should make out with each other.”
“Okay!” Jayce cheerily complies while Viktor merely shrugs. Viktor takes your spot on the bed and lays down fully. Jayce hovers over him, one leg on each side of Viktor’s petite waist. Only once did Jayce Talis ever kissed a boy and that had happened in middle school, but kissing boys is just like kissing girls… completely nerve-racking!
“Just kiss me already,” huffs Viktor, yanking Jayce by the collar and slamming his lips against his. Jayce lets out a surprised yelp, but adjusts. Viktor’s free hand travels around Jayce’s waist and to his back, landing on his ass. He smacks Jayce’s ass, earning a moan from the other man, and begins groping it without remorse.
“Dude,” Viktor pauses the kiss to get your attention, “You have to feel this ass, it’s like pound cake.”
“Don’t have to tell me twice!” you make your way to Jayce’s backside, grabbing his ass and feeling it up, “Damn, Jayce! You have a whole bakery here!”
“Uh, thanks?” Jayce answers, unsure if that’s a compliment or not. You give Jayce your own smack on the ass, “Nice ass, Golden Boy. Now, get back to making out with my best friend.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he exclaims before he resumes kissing Viktor. Meanwhile, you utilize this opportunity to ‘rub one out’, as you play with your clit and folds. You shove a finger inside and whimper, visualizing Jayce’s finger in its place. Another finger is soon added later and you bite your tongue to suppress any ungodly noises.
“Hey, is it cool if I fuck him first?” Viktor asks you, receiving a weak thumbs up in return because you’re too busy jerking off to properly speak, “I’ll take that as a yes. Jayce, go get a condom from my bag.”
Jayce picks up Viktor’s satchel from the side of the bed and peeks inside, scooting various items out of the way before locating a roll of condoms, “I didn’t think you were the kinda guy to have a whole roll of condoms in your bag, Viktor.”
“Blame that one over there,” Viktor points over to you, who’s too entranced in pleasure to comment, “She likes to fuck everywhere.”
Jayce blushes at the thought; if you like to fuck everywhere, did you ever fuck in the arts classroom? His cock twitches when he imagines you and Viktor fucking in that classroom. Maybe, they’ll let me join them next time, Jayce ponders.
Viktor shimmies off his pants and boxers, revealing his own equally impressive cock. It’s definitely not as long as Jayce’s, but Viktor rivals him in terms of girth. The man in question rips off a condom from the roll and opens up its packaging, rolling the condom down his shaft, “Ready?”
“Wait, why am I the bottom?” he huffs.
You and Viktor stare at Jayce in silence, only the muffled echos of the party downstairs can be heard.
“Okay, you’re right, but still,” he concedes.
“Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of you,” states Viktor, genuine care in lieu of dry humor. Jayce smiles to himself at the reassurance and positions himself above Viktor, his hole dangerously close to his dick.
“Got any lube?” asks Viktor.
“Yeah, in the top drawer of my dresser,” responds Jayce.
“Sweetheart,” the smaller man calls out to you, “Be a dear and grab the lube. No one’s raw-dogging anal tonight.”
“On it!” you approach Jayce’s dresser and open the top drawer. Among the stacks of underwear and socks, you find a bottle of lube, half of it already used, “Want me to lube you up, Jayce?”
“Sure,” he consents. You squirm some lube on your hand and Viktor pries Jayce’s cheeks open, granting you access to his hole. Jayce hisses at the coldness while you lube up his hole, taking time to finger him loose for extra measure, “All ready!”
“Thanks, sweetheart,” Viktor smiles and pecks you on the lips, “Now, enjoy the show,” he lines his cock to Jayce’s asshole and guides him downward. Viktor’s cock pierces through Jayce’s untouched hole and Jayce swears he sees stars in that moment. The feeling of a dick in his ass is definitely a new feeling, as Jayce gives himself grace to adjust to Viktor’s size. The other man strokes the sides of Jayce’s legs as a means of distraction, “Take all the time you need, darling.”
Pain soon morphs into pleasure and Jayce moans loudly, “Fuck! This is nice!” He begins to ride Viktor’s cock, his own dick bouncing up and down with each movement. His tongue rolls out of his mouth, the overwhelmed pleasure incapacitating any reasonable thought in Jayce’s head. Jayce steadies himself with the help of his headboard, continuing to hop on Viktor’s dick like a rabbit in heat. Cum drips from his cock onto Viktor’s pelvis, but he pays no mind to it, too fixated on Jayce’s blissed out expression. Viktor joins in with Jayce’s bouncing and thrusts his dick upward whenever Jayce goes downwards. He positions his cock just right to hit Jayce’s prostate, sending full body shivers through the larger man.
“There, there!” Jayce eggs Viktor on. Using Jayce’s hips for support, Viktor pistons his dick in and out of Jayce, relishing in each inclited moan and plea from the lacrosse player. To Jayce, each collision against his prostate feels like winning at the slot machines. One final thrust grants Jayce with the jackpot win, as he climaxes and coats Viktor’s torso in cum. Viktor follows afterwards and grunts, spilling his cum into the condom.
“Congratulations,” Viktor lets out a pant, rubbing circular motions with his thumbs against Jayce’s aides, “You just lost your anal virginity.”
Jayce tries to reply, but all that comes out of his mouth is incoherent babbles of pleasure subsiding. With Viktor’s assistance, he carefully slides off Viktor’s dick and promptly collapses on the bed beside him, his poor hole throbbing. Viktor removes the condom from his now flaccid cock and ties it shut; he tosses it into the small trash can and eyes you up, “I think he might be done for the night.”
“I’m not!” Jayce refutes, “See, look!” he gestures to his cock, still hard.
“Jesus Christ, did someone spike your drink with Viagra? How are you still hard?” you sputter, “This calls for drastic measures.”
“Drastic measures?” questions Viktor.
“I’m gonna milk that cock,” you proclaim.
You and Viktor swap places while Jayce regains his energy for another fuck. Engulfing Jayce in a side hug, you quietly hum to him, “What position do you wanna do? I’m a fan of missionary and doggy style.”
“Can we do doggy style?” he requests.
You snicker, “You’re not gonna be beating the golden retriever boy allegations anytime soon,” you roll over and get on your hands and knees, “I’m all yours for the taking, Golden Boy.”
Jayce rises up from the bed and gets behind you, your ass hitched up and slick leaking down your inner thighs. He gropes your ass a bit and gives it a few smacks as playback, “Nice,” he mumbles under his breath.
“Are you gonna keep admiring me or are you gonna fuck me already?” you sway your hips at Jayce, his cock twitching hard. Viktor tosses him an unused condom and Jayce rolls the rubber over the entirety of his shaft. Now properly prepared, he lines his dick up to your entrance and rubs it with the tip, making sure you’re wet enough for him to enter. You let out a low whine and Jayce takes it as a sign to slide in, doing so methodically and with as much gentleness as he could muster.
“So big…” you mewl, taking each inch of Jayce’s length like a trooper. By the time he finally bottoms out, there’s a noticeable bulge by the lower half of your stomach. Jayce caresses your stomach and finds the bulge, silently gawking at the sheer power of his size. On the other hand, you’re able to faint if Jayce Talis doesn’t fuck you yet, so you take matters into your own hands and pull back a bit on his cock before smacking your bottom against it. Jayce snaps into focus and grabs your hips, digging his nails into your supple flesh. His chest presses up against your back and he groans in your ear, “Eager, aren’t you?”
“Says the guy who just lost his virginity five minutes ago,” you fire back. Jayce responds with a sharp thrust and you replace your sass with a shameless moan. The frat bro starts thrusting in and out, making small modifications to his movements that incite the biggest reaction from you. Jayce finds it very hard not to pin you down and fuck the life out of you, he’s a gentleman like his mamá raised him to be. However, you’re more than willing to get the life fucked out of you, as you beg to Jayce, “Please! Fuck me, fuck me like an animal! I want you to destroy my cunt!”
All logic, all reason, went out the window the moment you tell Jayce to destroy your cunt. He buries your face into the bedsheets and latches a hand onto one of your tit while the other locks around your waist. You realize what a big man Jayce Talis is when he pins you, easily trapping you under his size. The sound of skin slapping against skin and filthy moans fill the bedroom, as Jayce growls to you, “You want me to destroy your cunt, huh?”
Smack!
“You want me to bruise that cervix of you, make you unable to walk for days?”
Smack! Smack!
“I wonder what kind of excuse you would have to use to justify such a prolonged absence.”
Smack! Smack! Smack!
“Sorry, Professor! I missed last class because Golden Boy Jayce Talis destroyed my tight, little cunt!”
“Jayce, please, please!” you sob against the bedsheets, tears of pleasure and arousal running down your cheeks, “Bruise my cervix! Do whatever you want, just fuck me!”
Jayce grits his teeth and picks up his pace, the bed rocking and creaking with each thrust. He looks over at an awfully quiet Viktor, only to see the stoner stroke himself off at the sight of his best friend getting fucked. That pushes Jayce to the limit and he lifts you up, holding against his body while he relentlessly fucks you. Any noise that comes out of your pretty little mouth is either pitiful cries or moans forced out by Jayce’s pistoning.
“Ready for me, pretty girl?” he rasps, as his third orgasm of the night builds up, “Want me to fill you up?”
“Yes! Yes!” you wail. In a flash, Jayce flips you over so you’re facing him and his lips clash against yours, a passionate kiss to silence his orgasmic moans while he climaxes. Near the desk, Viktor climaxes, as well, covering his mouth with his hand to suppress his moans. Your walls clench around Jayce’s shaft and you keep him inside your pussy until you milk every last drop from his beast of a cock.
Finally flaccid, Jayce pulls out of your cunt and falls exhausted by your side, completely drained. Viktor joins the two of you on the bed and snuggles up close to your left while you rub Jayce’s back on your right.
“That was so hot,” comments Viktor.
“Agree,” you tack on.
Jayce mumbles something against the bedsheets, but neither you nor Viktor can decipher what he says. You turn on your side and hug Jayce from behind, “Congratulations on losing your virginity, we’ll get you an ice cream cake to celebrate it tomorrow.”
“Yay…” he weakly cheers, “I love ice cream cake,” you chuckle quietly and kiss his back a few times, “Good job, very good job.”
“Hey, where’s my aftercare?” Viktor mockingly frowns. You pull away from Jayce and kiss him on the lips; you then pull away and pinch his cheeks, “Ouch!” he hisses, “You’re a dick.”
“And you’re my bestest friend in the whole wide world!” you tease. Viktor rolls his eyes and sets back into the bed. With a handsome boy on each side of you, you smile fondly to yourself and bask in the glory.
“We’re definitely doing this again.”
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˚𝜗𝜚 warnings... mentions of alcohol consumption, reader being touchy
… your head felt all fuzzy and lightweight as you stumbled around at the frat party, the loud bass going right through your body as you drunkenly looked for chris.
you had no idea how you had even agreed showing up to a party, but it was probably from days of complaining and pleading from your friends, telling you to get loose for a moment, and that not all weekends are made for studying.
you and chris had hung out a few times after school, eventually also attempting to study together, which chris didn’t like. at all. he couldn’t deny he thought you were the prettiest thing to ever walk the earth, but he was scared shitless you’d turn him down if he’d ever ask you out. so, he tried is best to keep his calm around you.
after running around, stumbling into people and mumbling ‘sorry’ quietly a million times, you saw chris sitting on a couch in the corner, all by himself. he immediately looked up when he saw a figure wobbly making its way towards him.
your skin was flushed due to the alcohol, a hazy smile on your face as you waved at chris, too drunk to notice him messily push a ziplock bag and some cash into his pocket, waving at him.
“hi, chris!” you chirped as he waved back, gazing up at you and your pretty form. “hey there. y’look pretty.” he said, raising a brow at you when you went a little too giggly at his words, obviously not in your right state of mind. you did a quick spin for him, before pointing at the empty space next to him on the couch.
“can i sit?” chris nodded immediately, patting the soft cushion next to him, watching as you sat down, your body rubbing up against his as you placed your purse in your lap. “are you having fun?” he threw an arm around you, sliding it down your side to push your dress back down so no one could snoop a look at the color of your underwear, before bringing it back up to your waist.
you nodded with a laugh, shuffling closer to him, an arm around his neck as you looked up at him, smiling drunkenly. “yes! me and my friends went daaancing,” you wiggled your eyebrows, and chris could basically taste the alcohol from here, even though he could already tell you were drunk from your overly-bubbly state.
“yeah? that sounds nice,” he smiled back at you, a part of him enjoying seeing you a little more relaxed and loose than usual… well, until:
“you know, you’re really nice… and you look nice too,” you whispered, bringing your lips to his ear, your hand resting on the back of his neck, before making its way through his hair. chris immediately caught onto what was going on, shifting just a little back from you, his face red as you continued caressing his hair.
“o-okay, hey-“ he said, feeling your fingers start to slide up the side of his face. despite his flustered state, his hands went to cup yours, taking them off of his, now warm, body and face. “i like your face..” chris nodded, a hum escaping his lips as he managed to get a hold of your hands, looking up at you to meet your droopy eyes and flushed face. “take me home, chris…” you breathed, leaning closer to his body.
“sure, let’s get you back home,” chris let one of his hands slip from yours, wrapping around your waist to hoist you up from the couch, until your voice sounded again. “no, chris! take me home..” he was quiet for a second, until you pulled your bottom lip between your teeth, looking up at him with a sly expression.
“all right, what the hell did you have to drink..” he mumbled to himself as he felt his face turn red, pulling you up from the couch, a tight grip on your waist, his other hand carrying your purse as he guided you outside. “um- i dunno, i can’t really remember..” you slurred your words, leaning into his body as you finally reached his car, a squeak slipping past your lips when he hoisted you into the passenger seat.
౨ৎ
after chris drove you home, getting you to change out of your dress after minutes of explaining to you that you weren’t taking it off to have sex, taking your makeup off for you, and making you chug down an aspirin or two, he sat by the edge of your bed, watching as you were practically dozed off already. as he got ready to leave, you held onto his hand before he could even stand up. “chris?” you mumbled tiredly, looking up at him with barely open eyes. “yeah?” he glanced back down at you, his thumb carefully caressing your soft skin.
“will you still be here when i wake up?” you asked as if this was all some sort of dream to you, and he didn’t exist at all. he chuckled, letting go of your hand to run his fingers through your hair. “‘course i will. i’m stayin’ right where i am,” he said as he watched you break into a wide smile, your cheeks flushing again.
“good.”
more skater!chris here!
୭˚. ᵎᵎ tags: @chrissgirlsstuff @toriinie @cupidzsq @lacysturniolorevamp @iluvmattyb @ratatioulle @riasturns @sstvrniololuvr @sweetbabydoe @its-jennarose @abbypost @chrisstopherfilmed @sturniolossss @ducksturniolo @junnniiieee07 @vschrissturn @keerahsturn @k-l-a-w-s @pearlzier @pjmpcyy @mbsbaby @christhopersturniolo @mattspolitank @asherrisrandom @missmimii @mattscoquette @witchofthehour @elizasturn
© ST7RNIOIOSS est. 2023
#🐇་༘࿐ works#chris ₊˚⊹♡#⌗⋆. skater!chris x girly!reader ⋆. 𐙚 ˚#chris sturniolo#chris sturniolo smut#chris sturniolo fanfic#christopher sturniolo#chris sturniolo fluff#chris sturniolo imagine#sturniolo triplets
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take a shot for me

You and Jayce Talis are friends — good friends, even — and it’s no surprise for the two of you to be found drinking. You’re young, free from the shackles of true responsibility, and the bar is the perfect place to go.
What does surprise you, however it came to be, is what falls into your hands when you invite him into your apartment after a night out.
tags: smut, mutual pining, AU!modern setting but it’s not explicitly stated, sub!jayce, WHO SAID THAT(!!!), loss of virginity because HELLO JAYCE ARCANE. NOT beta read. forgive me
wc: 4.5k
Golden eyes — happy sun-yellow, warm and bubbling companionably with tipsy indulgence — meet yours.
Your gaze falters for a moment as you take him in; the unsteady lean against the bar which he tries to play off as a suave stance, the slight shine on his lips from his drink.
“You’re such a lightweight,” Jayce says, small smile curling his lips — which are only slightly asymmetrical, you’ve stared at them often enough to recognize it.
The recognition you have has been built over the past months. Two academy students; oriented together in the same lectures seats apart, till the courses increased and the distance dimmed, sat side-by-side.
Your connection had grown in the class setting, though it thrived outside of it— blooming like a flower exposed to the sun. Conversations started with work, class, then shifted into something more boisterous, entertaining, to nights in the bar more than was healthy.
“Bull,” you retort, making move to stand from your chair. You’d meant to leave ages ago, when you saw how depressing the bar life had been. It was a weekday, and you and Jayce were mixed along with divorced singles and depressed fathers. Jayce’s company, however, kept you idle.
He’s kind enough to not mention your slight sway when you rise from your seat. You pull your coat on, closing it under your chin, and he does the same.
“Take me home,” you say, joke lacing your tone, and he complies. He holds his arm out for you to grasp onto, which you gratefully take as he leads the two of you into the chilly night.
“Do we have a drinking problem?” You ask, recalling your frequency at the bar. You pull yourself closer to his side, leeching the warm heat that emulated from him as easy as breathing.
The night streets are dimmed, shrouding the intricate architecture and well-loved streets from your eyes. It meant little, not when the both of you knew the way like muscle memory. Your feet carry you easily, shuffling softly against the streets.
In the dark, you can’t see his features when he turns to look at you, making his voice more clear in the position. “Maybe you do,” he says, and you know he has a smug look on his face, one eyebrow raised — the right one, with the knick in it. Part of you wishes to see it.
You scoff, playfully swatting his padded arm as you accuse him of being beside you all those drunken nights. Youthful laughter echoes through the street, quieting down as you turn once, twice onto your street.
He departs from you, keeping an eye as you reach your apartment door. You stand there silently for a moment, contemplating, then turn towards him. You know you must look odd, fondling the doorknob and standing still like you don’t know how to open your door.
“Do you want to come in?” You ask, surprising yourself with the question as you do. You aren’t sure what your intentions are; helping a friend get out of the climate, or help him take his pants off. Either would be fine.
Fortunately the weather has long turned cold, winter swirling around the corner, and the wind is the perfect explanation for the heat in your cheeks — just nipped numb and warm from the weather, nothing more.
His brows raise in surprise, like he isn’t sure either of your intent either. “Yeah, yes.”He nods quickly, taking a moment to bury his face in his coat as you turn away.
Your home is dark, quiet, with midnight-moon light painting a cool glow over the belongings within. Flicking on one light, a lamp near the couch, you move with a one-track mind.
Shucking off your coat, then hobbling over to rip your shoes off, which Jayce laughs at when you stumble, though he denies this. You ask yourself why you invited him in as you move about, though you aren’t opposed to the idea — you enjoy his company, his refreshing intelligence, the kindness he possessed to do good and share it.
You plop yourself on the couch, your lack of full sobriety existing as a slight tingle behind your eyes, giving you the kick you need. “Come hither,” you joke, motioning with your finger as you rest your head against one cushion.
Jayce has been in your home often enough to recognize where his belongings go, how you want him to kick his shoes off at the door, before moving to join you. He laughs quietly and sits down next to you, eyes swimming with subdued mirth.
It’s comfortable, sitting together and letting companionable silence come and go like the wind. Easy conversation flows between you, speaking on projects and things processed in the academy, papers to be done and stamped.
Eventually, your mind starts to wander. His voice fades into the background, a warm sound that reminds you of blankets and drinks together, although it means little in the moment.
Openly, you watch his lips. You wonder if they’re soft, if you can taste the drink on his breath and lick the remnants from his mouth. Typically you’d reel these thoughts in, slap a big shame sticker atop them, though you have little care in your happy state.
You begin to scoot closer, inch by inch. Jayce doesn’t notice till he does, eyebrows silently furrowed as he tries to deduce if you’ve moved closer, or if he’s had too much to drink.
You’re not quite sure what your plan is, what your means are. Distracted by the premise of your feelings, Jayce could ask you if you were an idiot, and in your otherworldly state you’d probably say yeah, sure, without processing the question.
One inch, then another, and you’re sat beside him. You can feel his legs shift beside you, always having to move, to fidget. He’s long been quiet, watching you with open curiosity and, perhaps wariness, as you gaze upon him.
Your head comes to rest upon his shoulders, and you know the angle looks good on you — coy smile pulling at your lips, long lashes fluttering around your open, speaking eyes — and he stares at you in surprise.
Slipping slowly, your hand trails up his bicep — you’re unsure what your plan is, but it feels good to exist here, here in the moment, and maybe your past self was wrong for withholding you — and settles on the curve of his chest.
There’s a clear shift in the means of his visit by now, and he’s caught on. He’s watching, waiting expectantly, seeing if this is a prank or something more, something real and curling around his heart.
Yellow eyes turned sunset-sky dark, overshadowed by the slight of his dilated pupils, watch you. There’s a question lingering in his open eyes, one of uncertainty and for the knowledge of more.
“Jayce,” you sigh, unable to articulate your want and your certainty through nothing more than a whisper. Your hands are at his chest — not quite pawing at the softness like you’d like — fingers drawing impatient lines.
A breath, two, then you will yourself to move in. You feel air pass between you, still shifting into electric sparks as your lips near one another. You can envision the curve of his lips as your lids shut, how it’ll feel licking into his mouth. Just before they do, Jayce stops you.
“I’m…” his voice is low, face pinched in a grimace. “I’ve never, I’m…”
Never… what? And oh, surprise hits you like a truck when the realization settles. Jayce Talis, a virgin? Your thoughts must show on your face because he starts to scoot away from you, shutting himself out.
Quickly, you grab his bicep. “That’s okay.” You squeeze reassuringly, hoping and praying you haven’t scared him off. Jayce was, above all else and the lust in your brain, once of your closest friends. “Seriously. And I’m fine going as fast or… or as slow as you want.”
He looks at you disbelievingly, though a hesitant smile plays on his face. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” you confirm. Shamefully, part of you revels in this. Heat licks at your groin at the thought of being the only one to see him so, to have his hands on your skin and voice in your ear.
He’s not saying no to you, he’s warning you, between the lines saying he wants you to be the first. You should take this revelation slow, have a first date and build up the promise of the good he could have. Your mouth moves before you can decide. “Let me… show you a good time?”
He nods, both of you lost for words as the gap diminishes. The ache inside you — thumping heavily in your chest and urging your hands to move, feel — burns brighter, gasoline of his lips exciting it so.
The moment your lips connect, you can’t help but sigh. The sparks you felt are burning, urging you to slip closer, to shut your eyes snd let the waves wash over you.
Jayce is enthusiastic, lips clumsily pressing against yours in a rhythm that’s hard to follow. You don’t find fault in that, not when you know you’re shaking with just as much need as he is. In the interval, where your breaths are one and your skin is hot, his need slips and he begins to follow your lead.
You push him against the couch, eyes still shut and unwilling to depart from him more than necessary. He gasps into your mouth when you settle in his lap, fists clenched painfully at his sides as he’s uncertain of what to do, how to do it.
Unrelenting, you push further into him. He loves this, it seems, as he arches in response, curling himself into the warmth and smell of you. Your hands slip beneath his shirt, memorizing the dips and curves of his body on the chance you’ll never experience this again. Ever the multitasker, your hands begin to fumble the buttons on his shirt, painstakingly slipping them free till his torso is bare to you.
Your lips separate from his, dragging a slick trail of kisses of want across his cheek, jaw, the thin skin by his ear. Oh, you know you’re doing something right when his head falls to your shoulder, pitched sigh of his gracing your ear as you suck the skin.
Flushed, the mark left behind blooms. There’s a tenseness in his shoulders as you draw back to review your work, and for a breath you worry that you’ve done something wrong. It dawns on you when you see the shift of his hips, the slight press into the seat below, that he’s resisting the urge to grind.
Heat blooms in your core when you realize he’s trying to be good, to follow your unspoken instructions to follow your lead. You take incentive and grind your clothed cunt against his tented trousers, the grind wonderfully heavy as the seam of your pants press against your clit.
His hips rut upwards sharply, surprised moan warm against your collarbones. Open-mouthed breaths pass between you, swirling in the air and suffocating in your ears, as the two of you curve together. His upwards grinds are inconsistent and fueled by his natural instinct to move, but lack of experience simmers alongside it.
You whisper Jayce’s name with a soft hand on his chest, which he takes as sign to stop. He doesn’t seem to process that his hips are still shifting an inch, like he’ll explode if he ceases his movements, but he watches you painfully expectantly.
The room is dim as you hadn’t bothered to flick on the light, though an adjacent lamp beams behind your head, haloing a soft glow around your head that blocks the light from kissing along his frame. For a moment you wish you withheld till you got to your bedroom or at least flicked on more light.
That worry passes by quickly when you take in what you can see — the soft parting of his reddened lips, the pleased furrow of his brows — he’s looking at you like you’re the lit candle in a shrouded room, like you’re the illuminated masterpiece of art in a room of lackluster beauties.
You can feel his clothed cock against your core, impatiently pressing close enough as though he could break out of his pants and yours. Grasping the back of the couch, you lean forward. You lift your hips by a few inches, punctuating your lifted dance with a hearty grind.
Curling and warming; you’d been tipsy when you entered your apartment, drink pulsing in your blood and inebriating your veins. Arousal and want for more pulsed instead, shaking your hands and holding your breath, and you weren’t sure you could live with the unresolved tension.
“How do you want me?” You ask breathlessly, though you aren’t sure he could answer. He’s been panting against your skin, wet lips dragging along the unmarred canvas. His grip on you, once shy and courteous, now hold you with such strength that he could fuck up into you however.
A whine. “My hands? Mouth? …” there’s a question that hangs in the silence. Do you want to fuck me? It asks. You swallow thickly imagining it, of him bending you over the couch or you in his lap, whispering in his ear as he whimpered in yours. He must be imagining the same because he presses into your heat, jumpy for you.
“You— well, hah,” Jayce babbles, sentence accentuated by his soft moan. You can hear the click of his throat as he swallows, voice almost hoarse as he speaks, “anywhere, anything. Just you, please.”
Your breath stutters for a moment, unsure how to respond appropriately. You lean forward and press your lips to his — sharing your unspoken want through unrelenting kisses, your shared pining in your teeth as you nip at his lip.
After a breath and slick kisses, you part from him and he lifts himself trying to chase your lips. He looks almost pained to be separated from you, the heat of your body. You shimmy down his frame, nudging his legs apart to kneel between them.
“You’re going to— you want to—?” He asks, shocked at the motion you’ve set. You give him a look, one of disbelief and certainty. He nods, understanding, more than excited to let the waves pass over him.
Your hands settle first at his knees, then slowly dance up the covered skin, fingers twirling and leaving a trail of promises as they near where he must be aching. Every drag upwards seems to hurt him with the way his muscles dramatically tense, brow pinching inch and inch further.
With you gripping his thighs for support, you lean in. You press your mouth against his groin, cheek petting the fabric as you kiss where his cock rests. He jumps like he’s been burned, then curls in towards you like he isn’t sure if he wants to run away or into the feeling.
You take a breath to look up at Jayce, though you don’t separate yourself from him. You imagine that the sensation is dimmed through all the fabric, but his mouth hangs open like you’re already sucking him off. His arm sits on the backrest, curling to press the back of his hand against his open lips.
It must be an erotic sight, you realize. Your frame, small when compared to his in this scenario, pressed against his long, long legs, like you’re trapped there. His eyes — golden sun, marigold circle around his blown pupils — won’t leave yours as you blink hazily up at him, nuzzling against his cock like you’re worshipping it, him.
Pressing your cheek against his thigh, you lift your free hand up. Your fingers dance along the seam of his pants, curling excitedly along where the button rests. One of the two layers that separates you from the heat of him, you’re glad to be rid of it.
You look up to him, silent question gracing him as your nimble digits circle the button. This is his first time — you don’t want to push him, overwhelm him, but you want him — and you can see he’s nervous in the stiffness of his frame.
“We don’t have to do anything.” You softly remind him, fingers smoothing away an invisible wrinkle in his pants. Your hands are antsy.
“No, no— Gods, please—“ he closes his eyes, legs spreading further in an invitation, “I want you.” I want you if you want me, he means.
Jayce’s hands slip to his pants before you can, pushing the button through the eyelet and hold your breath in your chest till it hurts, and you aid him the rest of the way. He moans unashamedly as the heaviest restriction on his cock is freed, leaving him nearly skin clad.
His boxers are still on, too shy and riddled with nerves to expose himself just yet. He’s watching you carefully, waiting to see your reaction as if you’d ever react negatively. You halt his worries by returning to your spot, lashes tickling your cheeks as you mouth along the clear shape of him.
“Fuuuuuuck,” Jayce whines as you suck on the covered tip of his cock. He can’t sit still while your tongue laves the precum-dampened spot on his boxers, wetting the fabric till it plastered to his cock within. His thighs are shaking next to your dipped head, like he’s fighting the urge to clamp them against your skull.
You’ve hardly done anything and he’s already falling apart. You peek up at him to the best of your ability, unwilling to pull away your mouth; his head is tipped back, only leaving his heaving chest for you to see, in and out.
Such open and honest responses have you sighing against him, focusing on the feel of him against you and the heavy pulsing in your cunt. You feel like you’re about to explode, like a bubbling kettle bursting with steam at the edges. Your lid is about to pop.
The pressure has long gone past aching, so you decide to relieve yourself with your free hand. You pop open the button on your pants with a quiet jingle, fingers slipping between your folds. You huff, warm breath wrapping around Jayce’s cock and it jumps against your skin.
There’s a sharp intake of air above you, and you open your eyes to find Jayce watching you. Your gaze meets just as the meat of your palm grinds against your clit, mouth dropping open as pleasure shoots up your spine.
You whimper his name, face shifting momentarily away as you forget what you were occupied with, and he chokes on air. His hand comes down quickly to grasp himself, breathing through the motions, like he was about to cum. “You… oh,” he whispers, starstruck. He’s getting off on this, seeing you lose yourself with his name in your mouth.
He can’t help himself, it seems, as he takes himself fully in hand and his boxers start to fall away. There’s a soft shlick sound that fills the air, wet head of his cock sliding his hands smoothly. His open-mouthed panting shows how overwhelmed he is, how one squeeze too many could have his cum painting his knuckles.
You wonder what he’s thinking about, if he’s imagining fucking you or painting your face. Watching him, you ache. You have to have him now, you decide as his thick hands squeeze himself indulgently.
You bat away his hand and he easily complies, nails poking under the band of his shifting boxers as you look up to him with the unspoken question. He nods enthusiastically, no longer shy and embarrassed, and lifts his hips to assist you.
He pops completely free from his boxers and exhales thankfully. You, on the same level, are incredibly thankful to be here. The tip of his cock shines with precum, twitching something fierce when you reach forward and use your still-slick hand to pull the foreskin down and expose him to the cool air.
Your hand slips, inching down the length of his shaft till your thumb rests on the sensitive circle of skin just by his sack, thumb circling softly. Jayce squirms under the pressure, though unwilling to voice his needs without your say-so or inquiry — always looking to please.
Lips trailing, you kiss up his exposed thigh, biting back a pleased smile when the muscle twitches beneath your touch. Trailing further and further up… you pass by his cock, much to his dismay.
The soft fuzz of his abdomen tickles your face where you press against him, stomach twitching beside you. As you lean more into the couch, his cock presses against your chest. He squirms, as if burdened by the uncomfortable pressure.
“Please,” Jayce says, never having been burdened by his open emotions and desires. You love that about him. He begins to murmur nearly inaudibly, “please, please, please…”
You draw back, looking inquisitively at him. You know you’re playing mean, though you can’t bring yourself to feel guilt. “Please what?”
“I want…” he swallows, thinking about how he should respond. “I want your mouth on me. Please.”
“My mouth was just on you.” You remind him, head tilted to the side.
“My— my cock.” He relents. His ears must be burning with a shocked flush, but you aren’t paying enough attention to actually check. “I want you to suck me off,” he rubs his eyes with the back of his hand, “I feel like I’m about to explode.”
Laughing softly, you move to fulfill his request. The air in your living room has shifted multiple times throughout the evening — once electric and stifling, now shifting into something slower, more memorable.
Your mouth falls open and you lick up the side of his cock, lips plump around his shaft. You can tell he’s shaking from the anticipation, and you wonder how long he’ll last.
You breathe in once and then wrap your lips around the head of his cock, sucking softly as to not overwhelm him.
“Yes— oh, yes,” Jayce is loud with it, his gratitude and pleasure. He’s trying not to move too much underneath you, to let you work as you please, but he can’t resist his back from arching dramatically. You pray the neighbors don’t hear his cries. “Hah, oh…”
Bobbing slightly, you let yourself be lost to the sensation. You urge yourself to take him in further, to press your tongue against his sensitive underside as the head glides smoothly into your waiting mouth. With each slip down, you catch a whiff of him — woodsy like charcoal, mixed in with the natural scent of him that embodies him so well.
You know he’s not going to last longer when his cock twitches in your mouth, gasps of his filling your ears and traveling straight to your clit.
“Oh, you—“ he’s mewling now, unable to resist the slight curve of his hips into your mouth. His hand comes to curl in your hair, not demanding, but rather grounding himself as the world slips away. “Fuck, yes— yesyesyesyes—“
You pull your mouth up as spurts of him start to coat your tongue. He’s fighting to keep his lids open, to watch as you open yourself so readily for him. Lips parting, your tongue cradles the underside of his cock as his cum paints your tastebuds — salty, enticing you for more — and his jumping tip.
He sits still for a moment, recalibrating his sensors as you let the sense wash over you. With one final suck and kiss, which Jayce gasps and jolts with as the sensitivity burns him, you pull off him.
“That was…” Jayce wheezes, dopey smile pulling at his uneven lips. You laugh in agreement, taking in his wrecked form as you do, the sheen on his bare skin. “Holy shit. Get up here,” he leans over and pulls you up onto his lap with a strength you forgot he possessed.
He breathes against you for a moment, arching into your touch as your hands glide across his skin. If he could, you imagine he’d be purring. He pulls back from you to meet your eyes, a powerful glint in his own; the same one he possesses when he has an excellent, exciting plan.
“Can I… return the favor?” His fingers curl at your open waistband, still unbuttoned from your earlier pursuits. At the mention, your arousal floods back overwhelmingly fast, knocking your knees weak. You nod quickly, afraid words would fail you.
Your pants are gone in an instant — albeit with an awkward dance as neither of you want to separate, chests heaving and dragging together in the tight spot you’ve dug — leaving you bare at the waist down. Wet, damp, you press against his open thigh and the slight pressure has your back curling.
“Show me how,” Jayce says, unashamed and eager with a boyish giddiness.
“Take your hand… here like— uhn,” you hold his wrist in your hand, curling his longest fingers forward before his palm kisses your oversensitive clit. His chest puffs out a smidge at your moan, though you make no move to comment on this.
His fingers are stiff in your cunt as they separate your folds, curling in that ‘come hither’ motion you directed to earlier. You’re going to love teaching him, you realize, as he soaks up every lesson you grace him with, responding back as a student more enthusiastic than you.
Overwhelming gratitude falls over you in heavy bursts, trickling down your spine like a thick rainfall. Grinding softly, you lean forward and swallow his fingers in your heat.
You’re not sure if he’s trying to be subtle or doing it subconsciously, though you don’t have the energy to ponder; his cock, not hard, rubs against your leg as your whines and huffs kiss his ears.
“Gods, you’re better than I imagined.” He says against your temple as you lean forward for support, fingers curling in a mind-numbing race that leaves you unable to respond. You moan loudly at the image this paints; him, fucking his fist or his pillow, stifling his whines as he imagines you bent over, mouth open and saying his name. Jayce, Jayce.
You find yourself hurrying, grinding your clit as hard as possible till it hurts. You’ve been on the edge for ages, and now you find yourself overwhelmed by the sense of all around you. Each push of his fingers into you follows the grind of his hips, and you hope he’s imagining taking you, how the warmth of you would envelop his cock.
One proper twist has your legs buckling, clenching as deep as possible around his fingers as your hips stutter. You’re huffing in his ear and he whimpers in yours, dragging his oversensitive cock against the curve of your thigh, and oh, Jayce—
Your head falls against his shoulder. You feel as though you’ve been beaten, dragged, and wrung out— but in a good way, akin to the soreness that follows a massage.
Kissing up his neck when you find yourself, you peck at the spot you left before. He sighs happily, readjusting you in his arms.
“So,” he says, and you can feel his voice vibrate against your lips. You imagine his neck words are partnered with an excited grin, masking the uncertainty he showcased earlier, “how’d I do?”
my inbox is open! feel free to leave comments/ requests, or maybe suggestions for a part two…?
#jayce talis#jayce talis x reader#jayce talis x you#jayce arcane#jayce talis arcane#arcane#arcane fanfic#arcane fanfiction#arcane fandom#jayce talis smut#arcane jayce
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drunk confessions
word count // 2.056k
pairing // jake “hangman” seresin x f!bradshaw!reader
summary // You’ve had enough of hiding your relationship with Jake, so you drink yourself a little courage and just screw it
warnings // established relationship. (slightly)drunk!reader, mentions of alcohol, lightweight reader, nicknames for reader (bubbles, sweetheart, etc.), Bradley is in big brother mode, the mission I mentioned isn’t from the film, the pilots still live in their own apartments (all near the base) for this fic, soft!hangman (that man alone is a warning but him being soft???), affectionate Jake and a ton of fluff
a/n // This is the new version of "drunk confessions" from '22! I just changed the wording a little, but nothing of the plot has changed. I loved writing this two years ago and if anyone wants more Hangman, don't worry I have more to come because same haha Thanks to @saradika-graphics for the beautiful dividers ❀
(as always, please tell me if I missed a warning)
Masterlist
You and Jake started dating almost a year ago when Bradley and him were together at Top Gun.
Rooster and Hangman had never been the best of friends, everyone knew that, so it was never the right moment to tell him about the two of you. The risk of Bradley being angry or perhaps even disappointed was too big. At least that’s what you thought.
Jake understood why you didn’t want anyone to know. And although he’d love to just scream it out into the world, that he was dating the younger Bradshaw, that he was without a doubt the luckiest man on fucking earth, he respected your decision.
Jake knew that you’d do the same for him without a question.
You wanted to tell Bradley eventually, just right now wasn’t the right time. But the real question is, when was it really?
Jake had a hard time keeping away from you whenever you were at the Hard Deck with the team. You mostly spent your time at the bar with Penny, to keep her company and to catch up with the latest news - often involving your godfather.
She and Maverick were so obvious sometimes it made you chuckle, but you really hoped he wouldn’t let her down this time. But Amelia and you would ensure that.
From your seat at the bar, you also had a perfect sight at the pool table. A lame excuse to stare at a certain blonde pilot all night.
Jake would always be the first to voluntarily get a new round of beers for the group, and no one complained about it. They were all so caught up in what they were doing, that no one noticed how he eyed you all night, ready to be by your side in seconds if anyone were to bother you.
-
“Hey Penny, sweetheart. Another round please!” he gave her a wink and shot her one of his handsome grins. Penny nodded with a smile in return and turned around to get seven cold beers for the young pilots.
“You look smokin’ hot, baby.” he whispered to you as his bright eyes met yours. They had this glow in them every time he looked at you.
“You don’t look too bad yourself, Seresin.” you teased him with a wink.
“I can do way more than look good. Whatever you want, Bradshaw.” he grinned while his hand secretly found yours on the bartop, his broad frame shielding it from preying eyes.
You chuckled lightly, “Oh really?”
“Oh yeah, babe. You better wait for me when everyone’s gone. I need to take ya home with me.” he flirted shamelessly in his southern accent you loved so much. Jake knew you’d do exactly that anyway, since you basically lived at his apartment at this point, but where would be the fun?
-
Not even Phoenix knew about the two of you, so you could say both Hangman and yourself did a rather good job.
This time was different though.
They were all going to meet up at the Hard Deck tonight, for another night of pool, darts and what not. The next mission was in less than a week, and you just wanted to spend as much time with Jake as possible. Just like he wanted to with you.
Jake hated to keep his hands by himself when you were just a few feet away, playing darts with Fanboy or Bob. You never hid from them, after all, Rooster was your older brother. If you weren’t talking to Penny, you spent your nights with them, laughing, drinking and chatting.
Not tonight… tonight would be different.
You met Penny at the bar in the late afternoon, to help her get everything ready before the first guests would come in. Amelia was staying at a friend’s house, so you gladly took over her part.
When everything was ready for the Hard Deck to open, you sat down at your regula seat at the bar.
Penny looked at you from the side while she turned on the lights underneath the bar. “Can I get you anything?” She asked, a hint of worry in her voice.
“Can I get a beer?”
“Sure, sweetie.” Penny smiled gently. She put the bottle down in front of you, and you took a large sip.
“So,“ Penny started, putting her hands on the bar, arms on each side of your beer. “What’s on your mind, sweetheart? You’ve been out of it today.“ You looked up at her, and she had this look on her face that gave you so much comfort. You knew you could tell her everything and she’d keep it safe.
„I… I’ve been thinking about…„ Yeah, what exactly was it that you thought about ever since opening your eyes today?
You didn’t even know. Not really.
You thought about telling Bradley about your relationship with his rival, screwing everything. But you’ve also thought about keeping it to yourself just a little longer. The upcoming mission was creeping into your mind at every thought; What if they didn’t make it? You didn’t want to think about that more than just a second. Not about your brother nor Jake.
He would come back, and he’ll be fine. This wasn’t his first mission.
“I don’t even know Penny, I’m so confused.” you sighed and let your head fall into your crossed arms.
“You’ll figure it out, sweetheart. I know you will.” she said, caressing your hair. You lifted your head to look into her eyes, her kind smile calming your racing thoughts a little.
Not enough, though.
That night, you kind of ignored your limits of how much alcohol you could handle in one night. You got pretty much drunk. Not to a point where you could throw up or blackout, Penny was in charge of the bar after all, but the kind you’d be rewarded with a nice headache the next day and your mind to be pretty foggy.
Drinking wasn’t one of your strengths. That’s why Jake liked to jokingly call you a lightweight, and he couldn’t be more accurate with it.
You’ve been sitting at the bar for a good part of the night now. The team had already greeted you when they came in, asking you to come with them, but you declined, telling them you’d maybe join them later.
“Penny.” you tried to get her attention, a sudden certainty in your voice, “Please excuse me. I have to go and get some kisses now.“
“That’s his boyfriend duty,” you said with a confident nod. “You know, happy wife, happy life.”
Penny had no idea how no one of the team could see the glances Hangman gave you. How he couldn’t tear his gaze away from you even if he tried. If anything happened, he’d be there in a heartbeat. And those poor guys who tried to flirt with you were quickly intimidated by his death stare.
Penny just laughed. She had kept a close eye on you since your third drink of the night, the last two she gave you were non-alcoholic, but you didn’t have to know that.
She ignored your choice of words at the saying, not changing ‚wife‘ to ‚girlfriend‘ with a chuckle and motioned you to go. “Go and tell Jake then.” You looked at her with wide eyes, “How did y‘know I’m talking about Jake?”
Penny tilted her head with a smile, “Sweetheart, I notice things.” she winked, “Now go and get your man.”
The next thing you knew, you were trying to your boyfriend at the pool table.
“Hey, Jake!”
His head snapped in your direction at the use of his first name. You were the only one calling him that. And the first name basis got everyone else’s attention as well.
“Yeah?” he tried to not be too obvious. But his concern about how you were feeling was rising with every second.
You didn‘t stop at the pool table, but walked up to him. Until you stood right in front of him. You looked up into his bright eyes, filled with curiosity.
“I need kisses.” you told him with a pout, wrapping your arms around his neck. He was so thrown off by what you were saying, that he almost forgot the others around him.
Jake unwrapped your arms from his neck and placed his hand on your lower back. “I think you need some water and sleep, bubbles.” he couldn‘t suppress the small grin that grew on his lips.
„Kisses?! What the fuck is-„ Rooster started but was quickly interrupted by you, “Oh for god’s sake shut up Bradley.” you hushed your brother in honest annoyance, turning to him.
“I love you, but I’m sick and tired of hiding something from you that’s important to me, just because I’m scared of what you’ll think or do.”
Hangman’s gaze was a mix between shock and pride. That you just straight out told your brother and all of your friends standing around you, about the two of you. Not keeping it a secret anymore. He knew it took a toll on you, and he’d told you multiple times to just tell Bradley for your own sake.
“Oh my god” you heard Phoenix breath out a laugh, while the others couldn‘t find words, still shocked, while some of them were exchanging amused looks.
Bradley didn’t. He looked back and forth between you and Jake, not able to process it all quite yet.
„Sorry man, listen I-„
“Just give me a second, okay?” Rooster cut Hangman off, stomping to the bar.
“Let him be,“ you said while curling yourself into his side, hugging his arm close to your body, “He’ll be fine by tomorrow, the old drama queen.” Sober-you would probably be scared Bradley would be angry or disappointed.
Good thing you weren‘t sober right now.
“Babe, how much did you have to drink?” Jake whispered, as he bent down a little until his lips reached your ear.
“Ohh, not that much.” you assured him as you tried to sound sober, looking up at his face, only inches away from yours.
He looked back to the bar, finding Penny’s gaze. She mouthed something like “water” easing Hangman’s concern about your drunken state.
“Let’s get you to bed, huh, sugar?” he softly smiled at you. A real smile, one he had reserved for only you.
You instantly shook your head in disagreement, “I swear, I’m not-„ you yawned, “that tired.”
“‘Course you aren't” he mockingly smiled down at you.
“C‘mon, on my back.” he ordered, putting his hands behind his back, ready to hold your legs for support. He bent down, and you tried your best to hop on his back. You wouldn’t win anyway, and sooner or later - you preferred later - he’d carry you out the bar.
You rested your head on Jake’s shoulder and wrapped your hands around his body. Your eyes already closing as the exhaustion betrayed you.
“Wow, Hangman, nice one.” Coyote teased him, the others joining in with laughter. Who would’ve thought Hangman had a soft spot.
“Shut it, Coyote.” Jake said with a look that would make anyone run for the hills.
“See you tomorrow, lover boy!” Phoenix joked.
You giggled on Jake’s shoulder, “That’s a good one!” you lazily turned your head in her direction and smirked, Phoenix and the others laughing back at you.
“You’re supposed to be on my side.” Jake complained, giving your ass a little smack.
“Hey.” you giggled, but did nothing in response. Your head ached a little, and you hadn‘t had the strength nor willpower to do so. Just relived to be carried, you let your head sink back on Jake’s shoulder.
“I love you.” you whispered to Jake as he carefully sat you down on the passenger seat of his car. He stopped in his tracks, his eyes finding yours. Jake bent down to place a soft kiss on your lips and he smiled.
The slight smell of alcohol was surrounding you, but Jake couldn’t care less. „I love you, and I’ll never let you go, that’s for sure. You’re all mine, baby.“ he whispered back between small kisses, giving you goosebumps. His scent surrounded you as you wrapped your hands around his neck to bring him even closer. “Good.” you grinned and pulled him into another, longer kiss.
Masterlist

#em's masterlist#jake hangman seresin#hangman x reader#top gun hangman#jake seresin#glen powell#glen powell x reader#jake seresin x you#jake seresin fic#top gun maverick#top gun maverick fic#fanfiction#x reader#female reader#x you
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can u do reader coming home drunk after a nightout and paige takes care of her?🥺 (smut or fluff is fine)
𝄞₊ ⊹˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ taking care of you,,
paige bueckers x fem!reader
paige is sitting in your shared apartment’s living room when she hears you fumbling with the keys outside. she immediately sets down her textbook, opening the door before you can even find the right key. she’s been expecting your arrival after you texted her a jumble of words, piecing together ‘home’ and ‘soon.’
you went out with a few of your friends from class to a local club, trying to unwind after a stressful few weeks. of course she wanted you to have fun but sometimes if other people were drinking, you tended to do the same. unfortunately for you, you were a lightweight.
“baby!” your eyes gleam at her, wide and glossy. you’re a bit of a bubbly drunk tonight, finding everything funny and somewhat joyful. you smiled at your girlfriend and jumped into her, craving her touch after being away for a few hours.
“hey ma, how was your night? had fun?” she catches you, holding the back of your thighs when you wrap your legs around her. your smile immediately turns to a dramatic frown, bottom lip pouted out. she has to resist the urge to kiss you, settling for the feeling of your body heat on hers.
“this guy was flirting with me paigey,”
“oh yeah?”
“yeah, told ‘em i have a pretty girlfriend already.”
now she’s smiling at you like a dope, pride swelling in her heart at your little story. you’re smiling with pride too, as if you just got told you did a good job. you’re paige’s favorite person in the world, no doubt. so hearing you brag about her is something that makes her feel all warm and fuzzy inside.
“how much did you drink?” she’s closing the door now, not missing the smell of alcohol when your soft breath hits her face. you shrug your shoulders because you genuinely have no clue. just from your answer, or lack of one, she knows it was a lot more than you can probably handle for one night.
you drop your legs from around your girlfriend and she lets you, letting go of the grip she has on your thighs. you wobble for a second while you adjust to standing on your own again. paige watches you carefully, slightly concerned at how out of it you seem. she finds herself getting a little angry at your friends for letting you drink so much, but she lets it go because she knows it was all in good fun.
“oh.. wow. that’s not-“ your hands are on your stomach and paige knows what’s about to happen. she’s ushering you to the bathroom, lifting the toilet lid, and pulling any loose hair out of your face. she lets you get it all out, patting your back and telling you it’s ok, the same way she always does. if you weren’t battered drunk it would probably make you blush.
“are you okay?”
you silently nod, already feeling a bit more sober. paige sends you a soft smile, kissing your forehead and pulling away again to turn on the shower. she grabs your pj’s from your room and when she comes back you’re half asleep against the wall.
“baby, gotta get you cleaned up okay?”
now you’re both in the shower together while paige lathers the shampoo and conditioner into your hair. you pleaded with her to get in with you, still not feeling the best. she said yes, tied her hair up in a bun, took off her clothes, and now she’s in here. with you.
she helps you rinse your hair out (she does it without any of your help) and just takes a moment to admire you. it seems you had the same idea though, staring up at paige with doe eyes. she notices you’re not exactly smiling, a light frown taking your features.
“what’s wrong?”
“miss you p,”
“i’m right here”
“yeah but.. you’re in minnesota.”
paige is genuinely shocked at your statement, laughing out loud and throwing her head back at what you said. she was in minnesota for a few days last month and you couldn’t free your schedule enough to go with her, which is what she thinks you’re referring to. of course in your drunk mind you think she’s making fun of you, which only makes you feel worse. you step out of the shower, the cold apartment air making your nipples peak and your body shiver.
paige follows in suit, having to hold her breathe at the sight of you. she jogs to your room, putting her own pajamas on and quickly returning to you.
“baby i’m sorry. don’t be upset please, i wasn’t laughing at you.”
you’re clothed too, standing in between paige and the bathroom counter as she rubs lotion on your back from underneath your shirt. her hands are large and warm, smoothing over your skin with a delicacy that you appreciate. you don’t exactly realize it all the time, but paige does a phenomenal job at taking care of you. especially on nights like this.
“yes you were.”
“ok… i was. but! but- it’s because i was just a little shocked, is all.”
you turn to face her, eyes scanning over her face until you determine how you feel. you try to remember what you even said, but nothing’s popping up so you decide to just forget it.
“feeling better?”
“for a kiss.” paige kisses you, gentle and soft. her hands situated on your hips pull you closer until you’re chest to chest. all of the sudden you’re pulling away with a frantic energy, like you just remembered something of the upmost importance.
“skincare!” you (in true clumsy fashion) try hopping up on the counter. once you fail a few times and then some, paige decides to just lift you herself. she digs through your drawer, not knowing where to start.
you don’t even seem to be in the same universe, eyes closed and legs swaying ever-so little. she decides to just pick a few things, mixing them all together in her hands before smoothing it over your face. it isn’t really her thing, you’re always the one doing it for her and yourself. once she’s satisfied, she taps your legs and kisses your nose. your eyes flutter, giving her a lazy smile.
“ready for bed?”
“mhm”
“brush your teeth first” you groan and she smiles as she walks away, pulling the covers back and throwing extra pillows to the floor. by the time she’s cut all the nights off in the apartment and returned, you’re rinsing your mouth out with water. she notices you’re ever more clumsy than usual, knocking over a few things on the counter and almost tripping over your own feet before she catches you.
“c’mere baby,” paige motions you closer, picking you up and carrying you to your shared bedroom. she lays on her back with you on top of her still, never letting go.
her face nuzzles into your damp, freshly washed hair. your face buries itself into her neck, the slow thump of her pulse helping ground you to reality. you couldn’t ever remember a time being this drunk, but to be fair you couldn’t remember much of anything right now. just that you love paige, and paige loves you.
“hey wait, take this advil and drink some water before you pass out please.” you whine, obviously too comfortable to lift your head.
“no. don’t wanna.”
“for a kiss?”
“…..fine.”
ㅤᵕ̈⋆。°✩`✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹✩°。✮☾☼
just finished reading like 5 diff kate martin stories on wattpad guys
also this isn’t spell checked pls forgive me
#paige buckets#paige bueckers#uconn wbb#paige bueckers smut#paige bueckers x reader#uconn huskies#uconn women’s basketball
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Eddie does this... thing. Steve isn't sure if there's a name for it. Or if it's just a thing. Robin always jokes that Eddie's autism is showing. And he just snorts at her and shakes his head, but he keeps doing it, his cheeks tinted pink.
He counts things.
They aren't always things everyone can see. About half the time Eddie is just counting in his head. But he mumbles the numbers outloud, barely audible. But Steve hears it. Steve can't hear much, most of the time, but he somehow always manages to hear Eddie counting. Or at least notices his lips moving, numbers rolling off them genlty.
It calms him down. Steve noticed that fast. Eddie would count his breathing during panic attacks and then when he helped Steve or Robin through their panic attacks, and somewhere along the line, Steve just started, counting along with him.
Not outloud. And Eddie hadn't noticed him nodding along to the counting, not yet at least. But it never failed. Eddie would start counting and Steve's brain would follow along happily.
They're sitting on Eddie's couch. It's the middle of summer. The air outside is hot and sticky. The air in the trailer isn't much better. But Steve had brought over his personal air conditioner that had been sitting in the garage not being used for years. Eddie had protested but Steve refused to take it back.
The living room was cooler than it had been the last few days. The sun had just gone down. Eddie's thigh was pressed against his, like it normally was these days, heat or not. Eddie would sit himself next to Steve, their sides smooshed together. Steve hadn't moved away, not once, despite the heat.
Eddie was wearing a cut off shirt, Steve was in jean shorts and a lightweight yellow t-shirt. Some movie Steve had never seen was on the tv, but all Steve could focus on was the way Eddie was pressed against him. The warmth of his skin seeping into his ribs.
And then Eddie starts counting.
Steve smiles to himself. Following along. Glancing at Eddie carefully when his counting pauses, like he was searching for the next thing he was counting. Steve had never been brave enough to ask about it. Was just happy Eddie felt safe enough around him to let him hear it at all.
And then Eddie's fingers hit Steve's arm and he can't breathe. Eddie's finger tips walk up his arm, pressing genlty at certain points as they go. Steve's heart flutters when Eddie's fingers press up under his shirt, curl in the material and shove it up as Eddie mumbles,
"Can I just-" between numbers. He smiles when he gets Steve's sleeve up over his shoulder, his fingers poking at Steve's skin as he counts. And it clicks.
He's counting Steve's freckles.
His fingers dancing over his skin as he counts, whispering numbers as he turns on his couch cushion, his knee pressing hard into Steve's thigh. Steve doesn't care. Steve doesn't feel it.
All Steve can feel is Eddie's breath ghosting over his warm skin as he counts. His chilly fingertips, and warm breath, causing goosebumps to spead, making Steve shiver.
He swallows, hard, as Eddie's fingers poke the moles on his neck. Steve smiles when Eddie whispers to himself.
"Lil vampire bite." He says, moving one finger across them genlty. Steve clenches his fists, presses them into his thighs, tries to stay still. To let Eddie stay in this world he's in. Because he's lost right now. Steve knows he is. He's a touchy feely guy, but this, this is different.
He's lost in his counting. Lost in Steve. It's fucking intoxicating. Steve could live in this bubble forever, all of Eddie's attention on him like he's the most interesting thing he's ever seen.
Steve reminds himself to breathe at the wrong moment. Eddie's fingers move over his cheek, he's almost reached thirty, and Steve honestly didn't know he had that many freckles and moles. But he learns new things about himself from Eddie everyday. He sucks in air as Eddie's fingers press into his cheek and Eddie startles.
His hand jerks back, his eyes flutter and then lock onto Steve's. Because he'd been watching Eddie. Watching Eddie look at him. And Eddie swallows hard, his fist clenching in the air before he pulls it to his chest. Holds it there with his other hand, his cheeks now a deep pink, Steve can see it crawling up to his ears.
"Shit. Sorry. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have. Fuck." He breathes, looks into his lap. And Steve smiles. Can't help it. He reaches out, his fingers curling around Eddie's wrist.
Eddie's eyes snap to him, wide, and nervous, as he watches Steve move his hand back to his face. He presses Eddie's palm to his cheek, nuzzles into the touch.
"You can keep going. You were at... twenty seven, I think." Steve whispers, not wanting to break the quiet bubble they've settled into. Eddie blinks at him. Steve feels his fingers twitch against his face.
"Twenty....seven?" Eddie says it like a question. Unsure. Confused.
"You were counting again." Steve says, leans further into Eddie's hand. He hears Eddie's breath shutter.
"I was touching you." Eddie says, his brows furrowing, like he's still confused.
"I know. I liked it." Steve assures, nodding his head, letting Eddie feel it against his hand.
"Yeah?" He breathes.
"Yeah. Of course." Steve turns a little then, facing him more.
"I like when you count too." Steve admits. Finally. Eddie's nose scrunches, he snorts, and Steve lets him have his hand back. He lets his fall to Steve's shoulder, his fingers almost instantly tangling in the hair at the back of Steve's neck. They find their way there most nights Steve is here, his hand on the back of the couch always finding Steve somehow.
"No you don't. No one does. It annoys people. It's weird." Eddie shakes his head, but he's smiling, and blushing, and Steve wants to kiss his bright red cheeks, wants to feel their warmth against his lips.
"It's addicting." Steve counters. Eddie's eyes widen.
"Is it?" He sounds shocked. Steve nods.
"Yeah. I do it all the time now. Even when you aren't doing it. Or aren't even around. I just... count things. You were right. It's calming." Steve says, his hands finding Eddie's, moving his fingers across Eddie's rings.
"You said it was addicting." Eddie mumbled.
"What?"
"You said it was addicting. The counting." Eddie says, finally looking up from his lap. His eyes soft when they find Steve's.
"Oh. Guess I did yeah. Is that... is that bad?" Steve asks, turning one of Eddie's rings around his finger. Eddie shakes his head, once, the red tint crawling down his neck now. The hand Steve's not fiddling with finds its way to the back of Eddie's neck, he rubs the skin there and blinks a few times before looking into his lap again.
"No. Just... no one's ever called anything about me addicting before. Annoying? Yes. Addicting? Not so much. But you did. And you said it like-" Eddie's teeth dig into his bottom lip.
"Like what?" Steve nudges his knee into Eddie, fighting not to smile.
"Like it was a good thing. I guess?" Eddie shrugs. Steve reaches up then, lets go of Eddie's hand and cups his cheek instead, lifting his head so Eddie can see him.
"It is a good thing. The best thing. I could listen to you count all day." Steve smiles then, mirroring Eddie as he laughs a little.
"Oh yeah? You might regret that. I've actually been trying to hold back on it. I know I do it a lot." Eddie shakes his head, frowns a little. Steve moves, presses closer, shakes his head.
"Don't. Don't hold back. Count whatever you want. Whenever you want." He breathes between them.
"Okay." Eddie says, hesitant, he sounds nervous. Steve pulls back a bit, brows furrowed, and then Eddie darts forward, presses his lips to Steve's cheek.
"One." He says when he's settled back on his cushion. His cheeks even more red than before. Steve snorts, opens his mouth to say something but Eddie moves again. His lips hit next to Steve's eyebrow.
"Two."
He presses his lips close to Steve's ear.
"Three." Steve laughs. Eddie kissed his neck twice.
"Four. Five." He breathes, as Steve catches him, doesn't let him settle back down this time. Keeps him close. One hand on the back of Eddie's neck, one hand trailing his fingertips over Eddie's nose, and his cheeks.
"You've got them too ya know? Not like mine. But ... little ones. All over." Steve breathes, his fingers moving slowly over Eddie face until they linger on his lips. Just for a moment, before he cupped Eddie's cheek.
"You wanna count 'em?" Eddie asks, he sounds breathless, and Steve had barely touched him. They were both on their knees now. Their chests nearly pressed together.
"Maybe later. Got something better in mind right now." Steve breathes, eyes dropping to Eddie's mouth. He watches Eddie gulp and smiles.
"Oh yeah? L-like what?" Eddie stammers. His hands grabbing at Steve's waist to keep himself steady.
"Probably better if I just show you." Steve sighs, presses his forehead to Eddie's.
"Okay. Yeah. I'm- I'm definitely a learn by example kinda guy. So that's- that works for me." Eddie rambles, his mouth moving a mile a minute. Steve moves his nose along Eddie's and nods.
"Yeah. Okay. Sounds good. I can do that." Steve agrees, not sure what he's really agreeing too, he just knows he wants to kiss this boy. His friend. Eddie. He wants to kiss Eddie so bad. Has for awhile now. He feels Eddie's hands, one of them moving to his shoulder where his sleeve is still pulled up, Eddie's palm is warm on his arm.
Eddie huffs a nervous laugh and that's all it takes.
Steve kisses him. Gently. Eddie's lips fumble against his for a moment. His inexperience making Steve's stomach flutter. His hands grab at Eddie, pull him closer. Eddie whines against his lips and Steve pulls back, doesn't want to overwhelm him too much.
Eddie drops his head to Steve's shoulder with a breathy laugh. Steve pets at his hair, curls his fingers into it like he's wanted to for ages and pulls genlty, so he can look at Eddie's face.
"You okay?" He asks. Eddie nods, smiles.
"Six." He says, his cheeks dimpling. Steve smiles back, shakes his head. Presses a kiss to the tip of Eddie's nose.
"Seven." Eddie says, no hesitation. Steve swears he honest to god giggles, but would never admit it to anyone.
Eddie's eyes tint with a mix of mischief and seriousness that's all his own as his fingers curl around the hem of Steve shirt.
"Okay seriously though take this off, I wasn't done counting." His voice is completely serious. And Steve, feeling brave, decides to match it, and tugs his shirt up over his head, careful not to hit Eddie in the face. Eddie barks a manic sounding laugh as Steve falls back, pulling Eddie down too, so that he's stradling him.
"Go on then. Count away." Steve shoves his hands under his head, smiles up at Eddie as he looks wide eyed down at Steve. He's bright red, but then his eyes focus, and his hands move to gently touch the skin covering Steve's ribs. His finger tips press down, tickling a bit, as he whispers,
"Twenty eight." His eyes jump to Steve's face, he gives him an encouraging nod, and that's all Eddie needs apparently. Because he starts counting in earnest, his hands moving over Steve's freckles quickly. Numbers falling past his lips, his counting calming Steve the way almost nothing else does.
He gets to fifty and stops. Leans down and presses a kiss to Steve's shoulder.
"Eight." He whispers, and then keeps going. He kisses and counts his way across Steve's skin until he's laying on top of Steve, his hand in his hair. Pressing gentle kisses into Steve's neck as he smiles into Eddie's shoulder, the little voice in his head counting along, in sync with Eddie in a way he'd never expected to be, feeling content as Eddie's numbers become more garbled. Until they fade completely as Eddie drifts off, his breath heavy on Steve's neck.
Steve smiles, moves them a bit so they're settled on the couch a bit better. Eddie doesn't wake. Steve watches him sleep. Soothes his fingers over the crease in Eddie's eyebrows until it smooths out and he melts further into the couch. He smiles at him, closes his eyes as Eddie's arm squeezes around him, pulling him closer. Steve sighs, sinks deeper into the couch as he feels sleep dragging him under. But not before he mumbles, sleepy and soft,
"One." Making sure he marks this. The first time they fall asleep tangled together, the smile on his lips fading as he drifts off to sleep, dreaming of all the never ending numbers in their future.
#steddie#Fates Endless Inkwell#fei#steve x eddie#steve harrington x eddie munson#autistic eddie munson#inexperienced eddie munson#steddie blurb#my writing#mine#my fic#steddie fic
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Frenglish differences in Miraculous - Episode 2
The Bubbler/Le Bulleur
This one's not really a difference, more of a double meaning that gets lost in translation: in French, the verb “buller” also means "to laze" and is a subtle reference to Nino's cool and laid back attitude (which is demonstrated more literally by him blowing bubbles during the episode).
Adrien, talking about his father
En: I'm pretty sure he was a downer back then too.
Fr: Je suis sûr qu'il a toujours été vieux jeu, même jeune.
I'm sure he's always been old fashioned (lit. "old game"), even when he was young.
I can't believed they missed out on Adrien making a hilarious joke!! And it actually would’ve been even funnier in English since “old fashioned” can be a reference to Gabriel’s job.
Chloé to Marinette
En: Out of the way.
Fr: Dégage, boulet.
Go away, boulet.
Here, “boulet” ("ball" as in "ball and chain" or cannonball) is a word used as an insult to qualify a person who is annoying or drags/weighs you down, like the ball attached to a prisoner's chain. Chloé uses that word very often when talking about Marinette in French.
Chloé
En: Happy birthday Adrien.
Fr: Bon anniversaire Adrichou chéri.
Happy birthday dearest Adrikins.
The nickname Chloé uses for Adrien in the French dub is over the top while she only says his name in English.
Chloé about the delivery men
En: Those slackers.
Fr: Les petites natures.
Lightweights. (lit. "Little natures.")
In French the emphasis is put on the workers being weak, when they're lazy in the English dub (it's just a linguistic difference here).
Alya, to Marinette
En: Don't be a pushover, literally.
Fr: Te laisse pas faire tu vaux mieux qu'elle.
Don't let yourself be pushed around, you're (worth) better than her.
Alya sounds more supportive in French.
Marinette talking to the house camera when leaving her gift at Adrien's house
En: [...] ... did I already say that?
Fr: [...] cadeauuu!!! pour Adrien.
giiiift!!!! for Adrien.
Just Marinette being awkward in slightly different ways (I didn't put the whole quote since the rest of it is pretty similar in both dubs).
Alya, to Marinette
En: Girl, girl, girl
Fr: Marinette, Marinette
I'm not translating that one for obvious reasons, but I noticed that whenever Alya calls Marinette "girl" in the English dub (not just now but also later in the episode), she actually says her name in French. It's not a big deal but I just thought it was interesting.
Nino leaving Adrien's house after being kicked out by Gabriel
Fr: Ouais c'est ça au revoir.
Yeah, right, goodbye.
The sentence was deleted in the English dub.
Adrien to Nino, about his father
En: It's just best to stay out of his way.
Fr: Vaut mieux faire ce qu'il dit, c'est plus simple.
It's best to do what he says, it's simpler.
I didn't really pay attention to this one back when I was taking notes of the differences but it hits different after the sentibeing reveal 🥲.
Hawkmoth
En: It won't be long before Ladybug and Cat Noir show up to meet their doom.
Fr: Ladybug et Chat Noir ne tarderont pas à se montrer pour leur dernière danse.
It won't be long before Ladybug and Chat Noir show up for their last dance.
One of Gabriel's many puns, since it refers to the party that the Bubbler is throwing thanks to his new powers.
The Bubbler after Ladybug changes the music that was playing
En: Dude, who just hijacked my mix?
Fr: C'est quoi ce truc ? Qui a osé remixer mon mix ?
What's that? Who dared remixing my mix?
I think "remix my mix" is very funny.
Ladybug, replying to him
En: Yours truly.
Fr: DJ Ladybug.
She <33.
At one point, ladybug calls the Bubbler "DJ bubulle", which is a way of making fun of him since “bubulle” is a cute word for bubble (bulle in French).
Hawkmoth
En: You can't run forever, Ladybug.
Fr: Tu ne tenvoleras pas éternellement, Ladybug.
You won't fly forever, Ladybug.
A little pun that got lost in translation.
Adrien to Nino about his awesome new scarf
En: Yeah. Can you believe my dad got this for me? It's so awesome. He's given me the same lame pen for three years in a row.
Fr: Ouais, j'arrive pas à croire que mon père aie fait ça pour moi, tu te rends compte ? D'habitude il oublie tout le temps le jour de mon anniversaire.
Yeah, I can't believe my father/dad did this for me. Do you realise? He usually always forgets my birthday.
I can't tell which one is sadder :')). Also, "mon père" can be translated as either father or dad so I left both since I think it would be more likely for him to say "father", but the official translation chose to have him say "dad".
#ml dubs#frenglish differences in miraculous#ml the bubbler#ml le bulleur#miraculous ladybug#ml s1#i think it was Misty who pointed out the double meaning of ''bulleur'' which i hadn't thought about a while ago so thanks for that! :))
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we shouldn’t
2.9k | fwb!Joel Miller x f!reader | one-shot
Warnings: 18+, no outbreak AU, alcohol, smut (but nothing too graphic), smooching, reader being a menace, fluff & the tiniest bit of angst Summary: Joel holds your hand after a night out. It makes you feel things you don’t want to feel. A/N: This little one-shot was very emotional for me to write, and I hope it’ll make you feel something, too. Can be read alone or as a prequel to part 1 within the fwb!Joel AU. Enjoy and let me know what you think! I love talking to you about these two! 🖤 series masterlist
“If I don’t catch you before the light, I’ll do that little dance you like so much.”
“Naked?” you ask with wide eyes.
He chuckles at your enthusiasm. “Yeah, na–”
Before he can finish his sentence, you’re running—clumsily, but fueled by an eagerness that outshines the haze of your drunkenness.
“–ked.”
– – –
The neon lights of the city blur into a kaleidoscope as Joel and you stroll down the crowded streets, the remnants of laughter and clinking glasses still echoing in your ears from the bar you just left. It’s a beautiful night—alive with a buzz, a mix of the city’s energy and the warmth that comes from a few too many drinks.
You’re giggling uncontrollably at something Joel said, your hands clasped over your belly as your sides hurt from laughing. You don’t even remember what he said that was so funny, but that doesn’t matter.
You’re having fun—as always when you’re with him.
Joel glances over at you with a lopsided grin, his eyes slightly glazed but still sparkling with mischief.
“You’re such a lightweight, darlin’,” he says, his words laced with genuine amusement. He chuckles as you continue to giggle, shaking his head in mock disappointment. “No more Long Island Iced Teas for you.”
You playfully roll your eyes, trying to catch your breath, and delicately wiping away the happy tears spilling over.
“Oh, come on,” you quip, turning to him with an infectious grin. “Could a lightweight do this?”
Determined to prove him wrong, you theatrically hold out your arms and set one foot gracefully in front of the other, your pretend sobriety test turning into a whimsical dance along an invisible line on the floor.
“See?” you say excitedly—and perhaps a tad too loudly—before your own enthusiasm sends you stumbling over your own feet. Lucky for you, Joel’s reflexes kick in, and he effortlessly catches you before you can faceplant and hurt yourself.
“Easy there, baby,” he teases with a grin, his strong arms steadying you before pulling you into a tight embrace. “You’re just having too much fun tonight, huh?”
“S’not fair,” you slur against his chest, giggles bubbling up from deep inside you. “The world is spinning.”
Joel looks at you, amusement twinkling in his eyes. “That’s not–” he begins but stops himself, chuckling. “Well, actually, yes, you’re right. The world is spinning, baby.” He presses a soft kiss against your temple. “I got you though.”
Giggles subside into a contented sigh as you rest against Joel’s broad chest, the fleeting touch of his fingers brushing against your back.
“Thank you,” you murmur, taking in his warmth and his scent. “Mmm, you smell nice. How do you always smell so nice?”
Lifting your head, you gaze into his eyes with honest bewilderment and curiosity, your brow furrowed, as if this is the most perplexing mystery that needs unraveling.
“Reminds me of when we met. My clothes smelled like you when I got home that night.”
Joel’s eyes crinkle at the corners as he looks at you with a genuine sense of adoration, his heart warmed by the sincerity and carefree spirit that your drunken honesty radiates.
He’s obviously not going to tell you that he’s made sure to only ever use the aftershave you complimented him on the first night you spent together, but he’s secretly delighting in the fact that you still like it.
“Well, aren’t you sweet, darlin’,” he coos, an amused smile gracing his lips. “You were such a brat not even twenty minutes ago and now look at you. Tame as a little kitten.”
“No idea what you’re talking about.” You bite your lip and put your hands on his chest, your pupils so dilated your eyes are black.
You can still feel his fingers inside you.
Joel runs his hands up and down your back, a sensation that makes your knees weak. He bores his eyes into you and raises an eyebrow.
“I’m talking about you acting like a whore in that bar just so I’d make you come on my fingers.” His hands wander down to your ass, groping you, pulling you closer against his body. “You knew I’d fuck you when we got to your place, but you just couldn’t wait, huh?”
“Hmm, you love it,” you chuckle, pressing a soft kiss on his warm lips. “Don’t act like you’re not a total perv yourself. ‘Cause, you know, you are, and that’s why you just fingered me in a crowded bar. And that’s why you almost came in your pants. And that’s also why we get along so well.”
Joel grins at you, savoring the lingering sensation of your lips on his. “Touché, you little smartass.”
Your eyes drop to his mustache, perched proudly on his top lip. He’s shaved off the rest of his facial hair, and tonight’s the first time you’ve seen him like this. It suits him.
“You see something you like, baby?”
“I love your mustache. It’ so fucking hot,” you murmur, mesmerized, gently touching the little hairs above Joel’s lip with your fingertips. “Makes you look like an ‘80s pornstar.”
“You’re into that?” he chuckles, noting the particular fixation your inebriated brain has chosen this time—last time, it was the curve of his nose. You’re adorable.
“Fuck yeah. The only thing missing are assless chaps and a tight mesh shirt.” You wrap your arms around him and look into his beautiful brown eyes.
“Mmm, you never cease to surprise me, darlin’,” he murmurs against the shell of your ear before nibbling on your earlobe. “I didn’t realize you were such a fan of my ass.”
You giggle and squeeze his cheeks to make a point, pulling away a bit to lock your lidded eyes on his. “Oh, you have no idea. I’ll tie you to your bed next time and show you if you want. Fair warning, though, I won’t be gentle.”
Joel’s eyes widen, his erection straining against the harsh fabric of his jeans.
“Careful, darlin’,” he growls into your ear, “if you can’t behave yourself, I’ll have to put you in your place. And I promise you, I won’t be gentle either.”
You can’t suppress the little moan that escapes your lips as Joel’s words go straight to your pussy. His scent, his deep voice, his broad body against yours, his dark eyes—it all has you melting in his arms, craving his touch. Badly.
“Can we go, please?” you plead, your tone carrying the unmistakable hint of neediness Joel loves to hear so much.
“You’re insatiable, you know that?” he murmurs, his hands finding your waist, pulling you against his groin with a possessive grip.
You playfully roll your eyes and let out a dramatic sigh. “Yeah, yeah, and I’m a bad, bad girl that needs to be punished—yada yada yada. Can we go now? Please?”
You pull away from his embrace with a cheeky smile and start tugging on his arm, urging him to move. Joel snorts at your impatience, thoroughly entertained by the frustrated little noises you make when he doesn’t budge.
One eyebrow raised and hands on your hips, you glare at him defiantly. You’re swaying a little now that he’s not holding you anymore.
“I’ll fucking run home and get myself off if you don’t get your ass in gear right now.”
“You still haven’t grasped the concept of asking nicely, huh? And after all this time I’ve tried to teach you,” he chuckles, shaking his head in mock disappointment. “You’re lucky I’m in a good mood and can’t wait to fill up that pretty little pussy of yours.”
He tilts your chin up with his thumb and index finger to search your eyes. To his satisfaction, he finds pure hunger in them. Your brain has completely shut off any and all functions except for imagining Joel taking you roughly in your bed. Or on your sofa. Or on the floor.
“Tell you what, you brat. You get a ten-second head start, and if I catch you before you reach that traffic light over there, you’re not allowed to touch me once you’re naked.”
“And if you don’t catch me?”
Joel needs to hold back his laugh at the ridiculous idea that you’d be faster than him.
“If I don’t catch you before the light, I’ll do that little dance you like so much.”
“Naked?” you ask with wide eyes.
He chuckles at your enthusiasm. “Yeah, na–”
Before he can finish his sentence, you’re running—clumsily, but fueled by a determination that outshines the haze of your drunkenness.
“–ked.”
The night air that envelops you is alive with laughter and the distant hum of the city as you stumble towards the traffic light, your unsteady steps dictated by the alcohol coursing through your veins. Your brain can’t decide between giggling and breathing, so you’re left with a side stitch and gasping for air after a few short seconds.
At least you had enough foresight to choose comfort over sexiness when you put on your sneakers tonight instead of your heels.
Joel’s eyes track you, captivated by the rhythmic sway of your legs beneath the hem of the short dress you’re wearing. Oh, how he can’t wait to feel your naked skin pressed against his. You’re always so soft, so warm, so receptive to his touch…
He snaps out of it, realizing the very real potential for a clumsy misstep, and joins the chase. His steps are more purposeful, not wanting you to trip and hurt yourself, especially not on his watch.
A few meters shy of the traffic light, he catches up, arms wrapping around you from behind. You squeal in surprise, a mixture of laughter and exhilaration bubbling up from deep inside you. Joel joins in, his laughter harmonizing with yours, as he triumphantly murmurs, “Got you” in your ear.
He sets you down gently and pulls you close as your heart is still racing, and presses his lips on yours in a deep, lingering kiss.
“Not fair,” you mumble against his lips with a pout. “And I don’t wanna live in a world where you don’t dance for me.”
Joel sighs deeply, succumbing to the irresistible charm of your big puppy eyes.
“How about this, baby. You’re good and do what I say without talking back, and I’ll dance for you until you’re dizzy. Hm?”
“Okay, sounds fair,” you murmur, wanting nothing more than to get home quickly and rip his clothes off. Riling him up in the bar and coming all over his fingers was nice, but you’ve had far from enough.
“Good girl.”
As the traffic light shifts to green, Joel’s hand instinctively finds yours, not wanting to let you stumble across the street without him holding you. You don’t think too much about it, assuming he’ll let go once you’re on the other side.
Surprisingly, though, his grip persists, and he intertwines his fingers with yours.
It’s a gesture so simple, yet it simultaneously sobers you up and sends a ripple through the carefully constructed walls you’ve built around your emotions. Confusion colors your eyes as you steal a glance at him, and he meets your eyes with a warmth that makes your heart skip a beat.
You don’t like it.
This isn’t the casual arm around the shoulder or the hand on your hip. This feels like…more. Like something you’d only do in a relationship. Joel’s touch is warm and electric, and an unsettling realization dawns—the casual arrangement you’ve shared with him suddenly seems more complicated.
Oh, no. No, no, no.
“What are you doing?” you ask, feigning nonchalance, although your heart is doing somersaults.
“What do you mean?” Joel smirks, giving your hand a playful squeeze. “Just trying to keep you from stumbling into the bushes, baby. I’m a gentleman, you know.”
You scoff and roll your eyes, but the butterflies in your stomach tell a different story. The truth is, you’ve been here before—caught in the crossroads of friendship and something more. It’s a delicate balance, and one you don’t want to upset.
Joel’s the best thing that has happened to you in a long time, and you don’t want to lose what you have. But you also care for him enough that you’d let him go if your arrangement didn’t make him happy anymore.
As you finally reach your apartment building, a nervous flutter sets your heart pounding in your chest. You clear your throat and subtly allow your fingers to slip away from Joel’s, feigning the need for both hands as you rummage through your purse in search of your key.
You follow Joel inside, deliberately averting your gaze, your eyes fixed on the glowing buttons as you summon the elevator. As you step inside the confined space, a wave of memories floods your mind, recalling the last time you’ve given in to your desires when the brief elevator ride felt too long to resist.
Joel knelt in front of you, skillfully drawing an orgasm out of you with his tongue while your fingers were tangled in his dark curls. Once he had his fill, he proceeded to throw you over his shoulder and fuck you in front of your living room mirror. You’ll never forget how he forced you to look at yourself with his hand wrapped around your neck.
You’re abruptly pulled back to the present as you feel Joel’s hand finding yours once again, trying to reassure you that he’s here if you need him. You look at him with a conflicted expression, torn between appreciating his caring gesture and the fear of disappointing him.
As you shuffle to your apartment door, Joel finally breaks the silence, his voice low and soothing, “Are you alright, darlin’? Do you feel sick?” His eyes search your face, concern evident in his furrowed brow.
“Nah, just a bit tipsy,” you reply automatically, your tone light as you lean against the wall.
However, when he starts tracing gentle circles on the back of your hand with his thumb, you’re unable to suppress the growing unease any longer. Tightness settles in your chest, accompanied by a fluttering sensation that dances beneath your ribcage.
“It’s just…I, uh,” you murmur, “I didn’t expect you to hold my hand is all.”
“Oh.” Joel’s gaze softens, and he releases your hand, the connection severed. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, darlin’. I should’ve asked if you were okay with it, I’m sorry.”
You shake your head vehemently. “No, no, it’s not that I didn’t like it. It’s just...it felt–” you cut yourself off and sigh deeply, turning around to open your apartment door. “I just don’t think it’s a good idea.”
Joel nods, a thoughtful expression on his face. “I understand, darlin’. Thank you for telling me.”
“I’m sorry,” you switch on the light in your living room and throw your purse onto your sofa. “I know it’s weird, but I really…we–we shouldn’t and I…I can’t–”
“Darlin’, hey,” he steps inside and closes the door behind him. “There’s no need for you to apologize, or explain for that matter.”
You turn around and take him in for a moment. His warm eyes, his soft smile, the cute little movements his hand makes when he’s nervous—he’s just so…sweet. You’re not used to a guy being so considerate of your boundaries, and it’s incredibly hard for you to believe that he actually means it and won’t use them against you once he’s tired of you.
You know it’ll happen at some point, but you’re okay with that. This isn’t meant to last.
“Do you, uh, still wanna stay for a nightcap?” you ask him with a hopeful smile.
“Of course I do, darlin’,” he says, tilting his head and looking at you curiously.
You open your arms, silently inviting him to draw you into a comforting embrace. You’re relieved when his response is immediate and eager.
“We’re on the same page, right?” he asks, a genuine smile on his lips as his dark eyes search yours. “We have fun, and I like spending time with you, but I want you to feel comfortable, too. If this,” he gestures between the two of you, “ever becomes more than you’re comfortable with, we talk about it. No pressure, no expectations. Just us, enjoying each other’s company.”
He pulls back slightly to gauge your reaction, his hand still gently resting on your waist.
“Sounds perfect, Joel,” you coo in response, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Now, would you please shut up and kiss me already.”
“Alright, alright, you brat,” Joel chuckles and cups your cheek with his warm hand, before leaning in and sealing the agreement with a lingering kiss to your lips.
“Mmm, I’m so happy I met you, darlin’,” he whispers. “You’re something else, you know?”
You look into his eyes, and there’s a sincerity in them that catches you off guard. You know you shouldn’t have sex with him right now, you know you should tell him to leave.
And yet, as soon as you feel his lips on yours again, more fervently this time, his hands exploring the contours of your back, drawing you close, the rational part of your mind fades away.
“Tell me what you want, baby,” he breathes out before switching to kissing down your neck, the sensation of his soft lips on your sensitive skin making you whimper.
“I want you, Joel. I want you.”
– – –
Thanks for reading, guys!! 🤍
part 1 || series masterlist || main masterlist
tagging: @buckyispunk @koshkaj-blog @paleidiot @pattwtf @runningmom94 @tuquoquebrute @witchofthedeepwoods let me know if you want to be added!
#fwb!joel miller x f!reader#fwb!joel miller#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#joel miller#joel miller au#series: you wanted this#joel miller fanfic#joel miller tlou#joel miller angst#joel miller fluff#joel miller fanfiction#tlou fanfiction#joel miller fic#the last of us fic#joel miller smut#joel the last of us#tlou fic#joel miller x f!reader#pedro pascal characters
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wake up call - kwon soonyoung
warnings: alcohol, let me know if I missed anything
pairings: soonyoung x reader
genre: slight angst, mostly fluff, drunken confessions
wc: 2k
drunken confession masterlist
main masterlist! // soonyoung’s m.list
as the clock strikes 3am, the sound of laughter and music has finally faded from the living room. your small group of your friends have all passed out, some on the floor, others hanging off the couch, leaving just you and soonyoung sitting on the floor right beside the couch in the dim glow of the fairy lights strung around the room. the reminiscent scent of pizza lingers in the air, mixing with the coziness of the room, making everything feel warm and safe.
tonight had started like any other get-together: pizza, drinks, and endless jokes from the boys. soonyoung had been in a rather good mood, his laughter brightening the atmosphere as he cracked jokes and danced around but somewhere between the games, laughter and late-night snacks, soonyoung had hit the bottle harder than usual. now, he sits beside you, a little swaying, with a half-empty cup in his hand, his eyes glossy, a clear sign that this lightweight boy is now…drunk or at the very least, tipsy.
you glance over at him, the way his fingers absentmindedly trace the rim of his cup. you’ve known him long enough to sense when he’s holding something back, and tonight, he feels more vulnerable than usual.
“hey,” you say softly, nudging him gently. “you good, buddy?”
he looks up at you, his boyish smile spreading across his face. “y-yeah! just… enjoying the moment, you know?” he slurs, his words slightly jumbled but filled with an undeniable cheerfulness.
“enjoying the moment? or enjoying the drinks?” you tease lightly, trying to bring back his usual playful spirit that had died down earlier.
“both!” he exclaims, raising his cup like it’s a trophy.
you laugh, feeling warmth flood your chest. it’s nice to see him like this, carefree and happy, but there’s still a part of you that worries. “maybe you should slow down a bit. I don’t want you to regret anything tomorrow when you wake up with a pounding headache.” you say gently.
he shakes his head dismissively. “regret? pshhh, no way! tonight is all about having fun and… and feeling our feelings!” he exclaims, his voice rising slightly as he gestures dramatically.
“feelings?” you echo, raising an eyebrow. “what kind of feelings are we talking about here?”
he leans in closer, his breath smelling faintly of soju, and whispers conspiratorially, “i’ve got some deep feelings.” he admits jokingly as he wiggles his eyebrows, though you could sense the truth in his joke.
you chuckle, feeling the energy shift slightly. “oh really? what kind of deep feelings?”
he pauses for a moment; not expecting you to question him further, his eyes searching yours. “you know… feelings…. like how amazing you are. how funny and beautiful and smart and pretty you are!” his words tumble out, slightly slurred but sincere. “you make me so happy.”
your heart races at his unexpected compliments, but you can’t help but tease him a bit. “is that the soju talking? or do you really mean that?”
he leans back dramatically, clutching his chest as if wounded. “how dare you question my feelings! they’re real! they’re deep!” he shouts, laughter bubbling in your chest.
“okay, okay, I believe you!” you say, giggling. “but really, soonyoung, you should tone it down a notch.”
“no!” he insists, his eyes brightening with mischief. “i want to say more! like… like how i’ve been in love with you for so long!”
the laughter that once bubbled its way up from your chest, now dies in your throat, replaced by a heavy silence as his words sink in. you blink at him, trying to process what he just said. “what?”
“yeah! you heard me!” he says, his voice louder now, filled with both excitement and a hint of panic. “i’ve loved you, y/n! like, since forever! but i was too scared to say it!”
your heart pounds in your chest, the atmosphere thick with the weight of his confession. “soonyoung, are you drunk right now?” you already knew he was, but you asked anyway.
“maybe a little,” he admits with a sheepish grin. “but that doesn’t change anything! i’m tired of hiding it! you’re my best friend, and it’s killing me!”
you swallow hard, your mind racing. you’ve always had feelings for him, too, but hearing him say it out loud especially in this reckless, drunken state leaves you momentarily speechless. “i… i didn’t know you felt that way. why didn’t you tell me?”
“because it’s complicated!” he snaps suddenly, frustration bubbling over. “you have no idea how hard it is to watch you date other people and act like you're fine when you’re not! it’s exhausting!”
“what do you mean, ‘act like im fine’?” you retort, hurt flashing through you. “i’ve been waiting for you to say something! it’s not like i wanted to go out with anyone else! i thought you didn’t care!”
“of course i care!” he shouts, the tension in the room escalating as he stands up, swaying slightly. “but you make it impossible! you’re always so caught up in your own world that you don’t even see how much i’ve been hurting!”
“you think this is easy for me?” you fire back, your heart racing. “i’ve been scared to say anything because i thought you’d never feel the same! i didn’t want to ruin what we had!”
“well, maybe you should have just taken a chance!” he yells, frustration etched on his face. “because now it feels like everything is falling apart, and i can’t keep pretending anymore!”
his words hit hard, and you feel tears prick your eyes. “you’re right! it is falling apart because we never talked about it! we’ve been dancing around each other for too long!”
he looks at you, the fire in his eyes wavering for a moment, replaced by something softer. “i don’t want to lose you, y/n. that’s the truth. i just- i don’t know how to make this work.”
“then let’s figure it out,” you plead, desperate for him to understand. “we can do that, right?”
“and what if we try and it doesn’t work? what if it ruins everything?” he asks, his voice wavering as he runs a hand through his hair.
“i’d rather risk that than keep feeling like this.” you say, your heart aching as you watch him.
he falls silent, his expression a mix of anger and anguish. you can see the conflict raging within him, but he shakes his head, as if trying to clear his thoughts. “i can’t believe this is happening right now,” he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper.
the silence stretches between you, heavy and suffocating. finally, after what feels like an eternity, he takes a deep breath and leans forward, resting his forehead against yours. “i don’t know how to do this,” he admits, his voice trembling.
“we’ll figure it out together,” you whisper, your heart aching with the weight of the moment. “we’ve always been a team, right?”
“right,” he replies, but there’s a sadness in his voice that lingers.
then, in a moment of reckless abandon fueled by the alcohol coursing through him, he suddenly pulls back and looks deep into your eyes. “i can’t hold back anymore. i’m in love with you, y/n. drunk or sober, that’s the truth.”
your breath catches in your throat, “you… you-?”
“yeah,” he says, answering your unspoken question. his gaze steady despite the tears in his eyes. “i’ve loved you for so long, but i was scared of ruining our friendship. i thought if i said something, it would push you away.”
you swallow hard, the rush of emotion overwhelming you. “i’ve felt the same way, soonyoung. i just didn’t know how to tell you. i was afraid it would change everything.”
he closes his eyes, as if trying to block out the truth of your words. “i don’t want to lose you,” he whispers again, his voice breaking.
“you won’t lose me,” you promise, tears slipping down your cheeks as you reach out to touch his arm. “i’m not going anywhere.”
he looks torn, his expression a mixture of longing and fear. “i just wish we didn’t have to have this stupid argument.”
“neither do i,” you say, your voice softening. “but maybe this is what we needed. a wake-up call.”
“a wake-up call,” he echoes, his voice shaky. “i just don’t want to ruin everything we’ve built together.”
“you won’t ruin it,” you insist, your heart racing as you draw closer. “we can make it stronger if we both want it.”
“i want it,” he admits, his eyes shining with vulnerability. “i’ve always wanted it.”
“then let’s just…try,” you urge, your heart pounding as you lean in closer. “let’s be brave for once.”
he nods slowly, his breath hitching as he searches your eyes. “can i- can i kiss you?”
you nod, your heart pounding in your chest as he leans in closer. the world outside fades away as he brushes his lips against yours, tentative at first, then deepening as you both lose yourselves in the moment. it feels electric, a rush of warmth flooding through you as you kiss him back, your feelings pouring out into that single moment.
when you finally pull apart, both of you breathless, he searches your eyes as if trying to gauge your reaction. “are you okay?” he asks, his voice shaky.
“yeah, as long as you are.” you say with a small smile.
his face softens as he takes your hand in his. the warmth of his touch sends a thrill through you. “i was so afraid of losing you that I didn’t know how to tell you. but now… i just want to hold on.”
“then let’s promise each other that we’ll be honest, no matter what.”
he nods, determination etched on his face. “i promise.”
just as the tension starts to ease, you hear the door creak open, and jihoon stumbles in. “hey, i thought everyone passed out…. but i heard voices. is everything okay? what’s going on in here?” he asks, his brow furrowing in confusion as he takes in the scene of 2 longing (ex) best friends.
you and soonyoung exchange a quick glance, both of you aware of the moment you’re sharing. “uh, just talking,” you say, your heart racing as you realize how exposed you feel now.
jihoon raises an eyebrow, clearly not convinced. “talking? or finally talking talking?”
you feel soonyoung squeeze your hand reassuringly. “finally talking talking,” he admits, his voice steady despite the embarrassment coloring his cheeks.
jihoon’s eyes widen in surprise. “oh. finally. well in that case…. he grins, clearly pleased but also awkward. “i didn’t mean to interrupt. i’ll just... uh, let you two have your moment.”
“wait, jihoon,” you call, stopping him before he leaves. “you can stay. we’re just…figuring things out.”
soonyoung nods, his face flushed but determined. “yeah, we’re still best friends. just… with more feelings now.”
jihoon chuckles, clearly amused. “this is going to be a lot to unpack. just so you know, I’ve always thought you two were meant to be.”
“really?” you ask, surprised.
“yeah! everyone could see it but you two blind fools,” he says, shaking his head. “but it’s good you finally talked it out.”
you share a look with soonyoung, feeling the weight of your earlier argument dissipate as you laugh together. It’s comforting to know your friends support you both.
“just keep me updated. I want all the juicy details. also, I hope you know, you’re both going to be the main subject of conversation for a while.” jihoon informs with a smirk before he heads back into the kitchen.
once he’s gone, soonyoung speaks up again, “I can’t believe we waited so long, but better late than never,” he shrugs, pulling you in for a hug. “let’s make sure we don’t take too long next time.” you joked back.
#seventeen#seventeen fluff#seventeen imagine#svt fluff#svt#svt x reader#svt angst#seventeen x reader#hoshi x reader#soonyoung x reader#hoshi fluff#hoshi angst#soonyoung fluff#soonyoung angst
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Drunk on Love With Dreamcatcher

(Male Reader x Dreamcatcher, 5.2k Words) Tags: Group sex, Multiple sex partners, Everyone gets some, Everyone is also sloppy drunk, Dear lord these girls can drink, Don't worry though, they would fuck you even if they were sober, Also rampant lesbianism, Oh yeah, the girls are getting it on too, Multiple positions, Not enough hydration, Remember kids, drinking is bad!
The lovely ladies of Dreamcatcher chatter and giggle as they sit around you, teasing and gossiping as they guzzle their potent drinks. Flanked by a gregarious Jiu and Siyeon, you tentatively sip at your own wine, as the seven idols mostly ignore you as they grow ever more sleazy and boisterous as the night goes on. The girls cuddle and tickle one another, jostling against you as they spasm and laugh at each other's rough horseplay; even the introverts of the bunch start to join in the fun as well! All the while your own glass slowly empties, whilst Dreamcatcher's are drained repeatedly, burning through bottles of beer, wine, soju, and even harder options. You stare forlornly at your crotch, hoping the girls you love so much will not notice the undying bulge in your pants. Then suddenly Yoohyeon's tits are out, as she yanks her shirt up to reveal her perky breasts and wiggles them enticingly at the other girls who howl and cheer in encouragement. The protrusion in your pants only grows more painfully large, how did a poor Insomnia like you end up in this delicious hell?
You had been overjoyed after winning the contest at the meet and greet, one lucky Dreamcatcher fan would get to celebrate the girl's seventh anniversary as a group with them, and that fortuitous fan had been you. So after a tortuous week that seemed to drag on for eternity, you had been allowed entry into the hallowed Dreamcatcher Company building. Led up the stairs to their living room, the girls had arrayed themselves around a U-shaped couch there and greeted you cheerfully. Bubbly Yoohyeon, troublesome Handong, mischievous Sua, bratty Gahyeon, aloof Dami, sultry Siyeon, and kindly Jiu; all of them beaming and waving for you to join them. The table before the Dreamies is covered with alcohol, glasses, and snacks, there is barely enough room to contain the sprawling cityscape of glass. You greet each girl in turn, bowing and shaking their hand before you squeeze in on the edge between Jiu and SIyeon, who smile reassuringly at you. A staff member takes several photos of you with them, as the girls pose in silly or sexy ways for the countless fans who were unable to join them for this event while you sit there with rigid awkwardness. Then the staff bow themselves out of the room, but leave a camera to live stream the festivities. Which go about as you might expect, Dreamcatcher modestly drinking as they joke and chat with their fans on the live stream, politely including you in the conversation when needed but mostly leaving to your own devices as a prop for their fans to project onto. After about an hour of stressful boredom, the girls wave goodbye to the camera and turn off the stream; it's time for the real celebration to begin.
Away from the judgmental eyes of the public, Dreamcatcher is able to let loose in a manner that seems altogether familiar to them. The girls throw back their drinks as if it were water, with Sua and Gahyeon especially keen on drowning themselves in alcohol. Now their banter is far more ribald and lewd, with so many innuendos and inside jokes you are unable to understand half of what they are talking about. Jiu nicely tries to keep you engaged, but as the bedlam continues she soon ends up mostly neglecting you once more; Siyeon didn't even bother chatting with you much aside from some humorous flirting. But as the night wears on, the girls grow ever more lascivious in their touch and games, with the lightweights of the group becoming flushed and indecent in their mannerisms. Handong, sprawled against Sua, dares Yoohyeon to flash her tits; and that was how you found yourself goggling at Yoohyeon's boobs as she shakes them about to the jeers and laughter of her friends. Your boner straining the fabric of your pants.
Sua lurches upright and latches onto Yoohyeon's breasts, groping them lewdly before sliding her hands down her toned abs to Yooh's perky ass; who moans outrageously at the other idol's attentions. The other girls titter and cheer at the pair's antics, and soon Handong, who was forced backward from Sua's rushing body, takes her own revenge and mauls Sua's vulnerable ass in turn. The triplet then collapse back onto the couch in a flurry of squeals, accidentally bumping into Gahyeon who squawks loudly in protest as her beer sloshes out onto her lap. She slaps at the squirming mass of idol flesh in protest, before standing up in indignation as she notices the size of the stain on her pants. Huffing in annoyance, she strips off her pants and underwear and tosses them aside before plopping back down again and refilling her glass. Your jaw drops at this casual stripping, Gahyeon's smooth pussy had been an arms length away from your face, and the rest of Dreamcatcher had hardly even blinked. Dami though seemed to have noticed, as her hand starts to stroke against the maknae's exposed thigh, causing her to roll her eyes and playfully drive her off with loud kisses. Meanwhile the chaotic three seemed to have devolved into an extremely sloppy make-out session, as clothes were tossed aside with careless abandon. Soon the other girls were pulling their outfits off as well, and before your brain can fully process the fact you are surrounded by seven fully naked idols; leaving you the only one covered.
Eventually the cuddle puddle at the other end of the couch dissolves, and Dreamcatcher return to their drinking and joking, though now with a blatantly sexual tone overlaying their conversations. You continue to nurse your single glass, still unable to believe that your favorite idols were completely nude, bodies on fully display for you to feast your eyes upon. Gradually however, you started to notice that someone else was watching the girls as avidly as you, and was reacting in about the same way. Dami was surreptitiously playing with herself, her face becoming ever more flushed as she grows quiet and withdrawn; focused upon her own pleasure. Not that her masturbation session goes unnoticed, evidently this was a common occurrence at Dreamcatcher parties because Siyeon and Gahyeon start to kiss and suck on her neck. They fondle Dami's breasts and stroke her quivering thighs, naughtily whispering encouragement to her as she approaches her climax. Dami groans huskily as she spasms, her pussy emitting a wet sloshing noise as she fingers her drooling hole. The other Dreamies cheer at the sight, lewdly touching themselves to spur her on to yet another orgasm which leaves Dami shuddering with delight. Gahyeon turns away from the spasming pervert and is soon locked in an intense kiss with Handong, who wastes no time in working the maknae's breasts like udders. Meanwhile Siyeon had returned to her original position next to you, though she was now far closer than before, as was Jiu. The pair's hands covertly find their ways onto your thighs, staring at the other girls as they roam your legs. Jiu suddenly beams and looks at you as her fingers curl around your cock, her gentle eyebrows raised in mock surprise.
Then a hand turns your head and your lips are forced against Siyeon's as she lets out a sultry growl, leaving Jiu to haul your pants down and unveiling your erection. Her gentle fingers are soon wrapped around your manhood as she slowly strokes it, kissing your neck as she awaits her turn. You moan as Siyeon expertly devours you, her tongue roaming your mouth and hungrily pressing against your own; the combined stimulation enough to make your cock leak. Siyeon breaks things off with an intense stare before turning your head back to Jiu who greets you with a much more gentle kiss. Siyeon's hand joins Jiu's, and they stroke you together, taking turns to ravish your mouth until your head is spinning with desire. At one point they both get up to smother your face with their modest breasts, squishing and rubbing them against you, they laugh when you start to lick and kiss their flesh; patting your head affectionately. Eventually Siyeon breaks things off, and descends upon your upraised cock, taking it in her warm mouth. Your hips buck as she skillfully sucks you off, her tongue dancing along your shaft while she easily takes your length down her throat. Jiu leans back to enjoy the show, slowly rubbing at her pussy and allowing you to take stock of the rest of the girls. Gahyeon and Sua are doing shots together, while the lightweights Handong and Yoohyeon and blearily fingering one another as Dami takes her turn sucking on their perky tits. Gahyeon burps loudly as she spots you watching, before fixing you with a desirous stare and squeezing her breasts together pointedly. Sua notices her drinking partner's distraction, and joins in the fun, bending over seductively and spreading her cheeks so you can see her glistening folds.
Your balls are only beginning to pulsate from the overstimulating sight before, but Siyeon pulls off immediately, grandly declaring that your first load should go in their leader's pussy. The rest of Dreamcatcher howl their agreement, as Jiu scoots over and sits on your lap, your member bending up against her soggy slit. She grinds on you a little bit, before sitting up and smoothly mounting you, slowly sliding your manhood inside of the warm confines of her pussy. The Dreamies clap and shout encouragement, though your view is mostly blocked by Jiu's toned back so you are spared the more titillating visual support the girls were offering. Then Jiu lets out a soft gasp, and soon the room is filled with gales of laughter as the girls immediately recognize what had taken place, you were already cumming inside of her! You groan in embarrassment as your overexcited cock erupts into the idol's exquisitely tight hole, your sack pulsating as it desperately seeks to impregnate the goddess atop you. Jiu gently rides out your orgasm, allowing your seed to drain into her completely before unmounting and swiftly giving you a reassuring kiss. She pats your cheek, smiling kindly before moving away and is replaced by a giggling Sua and Yoohyeon. The pair have their arms wrapped around one another's' waists as they sashay up to you, smirking down at your shrinking member. Behind this captivating sight, Siyeon has a beer bottle shoved up her cunt, and is sloppily feeding a pouting Gayheon from it; while Handong is getting her ass eaten by an extremely drunk Dami.
You don't have time to watch the unfolding scene however, as Sua and Yooh lean down to peck your cheeks, before turning around and giving your eyes a health helping of their own. They bend over together, their pussies scandalously in full view, with Yoohyeon's butt noticeably perkier than her companion's, but Sua's cunt was far wetter. The pair sit on your lap, squishing your softening cock between their asses, sensuously grinding their dripping pussies along your thighs as they raise their arms gracefully. Then they start to dance, at first working together, their butts sliding against each other as much as your own body, seductively stroking one another as they move. Sua goes first, her tinier cheeks edging aside Yooh's and giving her enough space to give you a proper lap dance, her hips flying up and down in front of you and tantalizingly brushing her sex against your now hardening dick. She does the splits, forcing her pussy out even more until her slit is wrapping around your bulging erection, bouncing minutely to rub your cock with her sloppy pussy lips. Yoohyeon cheers in delight at the sight, slapping her friend's butt to spur her on as she rubs her back. Sua howls in protest at this sudden reversal, usually she was the one squeezing butts, and snaps her legs together before toppling to the side, leaving you clear for Yoohyeon to take her turn. Unlike Sua's excessive acrobatics, Yooh simply grinds on your dick, using her perky cheeks to stimulate your cock as she rubs up and down your length. Sua soon rejoins the fray however, chugging a glass of champagne before messily kissing Yooh, and pinching her erect nipples. The two moan as their embrace grows more passionate and the Yooh stops bothering to move and focuses solely upon Sua.
They only stop when you grasp Yoohyeon's hips and start to move her yourself, desperate for more sensation. The pair break off and giggle with feigned shock at your boldness, they were pleased to see you taking a more active role! So Yooh bends over the table wiggling her but enticingly before the much smaller Sua nimbly places herself on top of the other idol, their asses now stacked atop each other. Standing up, the pair look back at you as you rub your cock against their slits, relishing in the soft wetness of their lower lips. Sua has had enough teasing however, and loudly urges you to mount them already; but who to fuck first. Closing your eyes, you blindly thrust forward, meeting some resistance before plunging upwards and causing Sua to groan in triumph. Yoohyeon pouts as you plow Sua, slamming yourself into her painfully tight pussy and making it drool down your balls. With unimaginable effort you manage to pull out of Sua, who sighs in disappointment as you try out Yoohyeon's hole this time. Her bubble butt felt far more enjoyable slapping against your crotch than Sua's toned cheeks, even if Yooh's pussy was looser than the other idol's. You pump inside Yooh's pussy for a time, before Sua's blandishments convince you to return to her narrow hole. So you take your time, swapping between the two whenever you feel close to finishing, prolonging the situation for as long as possible before you have to cum. Gahyeon and Handong join you in the meantime, pressing their bodies against your sides as they give you lewd advice on how best to fuck the girls bent before you. Their breasts squish against your sweaty flesh, Gahyeon's prodigious bust in particular distracting you greatly as you pound Sua and Yooh's cunts. The stimulation was all too much now, and you groan unabashedly as your seed spews first into Sua's hole, before you pull out and slam your spurting cock into Yoohyeon's, creampieing both of their sopping pussies.
The pair croon in exaggerated amazement as they feel your warmth fill them, smugly wriggling their butts when you pull out as if mocking you for unloading so much semen inside of them. Then Handong is on her knees, sucking your cock clean as her fingers grope your sore balls; while Gahyeon pulls you down into a deep kiss. Sua and Yoohyeon scurry away, as Handong's head bobs in front of your crotch, and Gahyeon guides your hands to her impressive chest. She leans back to allow you enjoy yourself thoroughly, reaching over to grab a bottle of whiskey, as she teasingly purses her puffy lips. Gahyeon hops up onto the couch, shoving her weighty breasts into your face and uncorking the bottle. Licking her lips, she urges you to drink up as with lasciviously sloth she pours the alcohol down her tits, making you lap it up as the amber beads roll down her skin. The sensual moment is broken when Handong morosely protests from below, tugging on your flaccid cock in annoyance, get it up again already. Piqued, Gahyeon in turn starts yelling down at the other idol, who seems far from sober and more than happy to get into a screaming contest with the loudest idol of the Dreamcatcher. Luckily for the sake of your hearing, reinforcements arrive to soothe the squabbling pair, as Jiu and Sua drag the pair away, leaving you bleary from the sudden intake of alcohol as well as the absence of comforting heat. You blink away your confusion and notice Dami sprawled nearby, watching you with the quiet fixation of those truly drunk. She gestures vaguely towards the center table, now reduced to an unsightly mess, waggling her hand to guide you towards whatever object she seemed so interested in. You maneuver around Siyeon and Yoohyeon, the latter's lips locked tight around the former's cunt, greedily gorging upon her hole like a starving beast as Siyeon groans and holds her close. Eventually you find what Dami seemed to want, a small purple bottle with the Twice symbol curiously stamped upon it.
Dami sluggishly smiles as you had her the bottle, uncorking it with some difficulty before chugging a measure of it. She pauses, before her pupils suddenly dilate and she breathes heavily for a few seconds before calming once more. Her eyes have changed however, now they gleamed with feral sharpness as she lithely sits up and yanks you down onto the cushions with her. Dami lets out a chuckle at your surprise, her off hand snapping out and grasping your softened member, while she dangles the purple bottle proactively. Noting your confusion, she sighs huskily and explains somewhat unsteadily that it was aphrodisiac, and if you wanted some well... Dami was in the mood for some fun. You readily agree to her terms, one gorgeous goddess was better than none, considering the current state of you manhood. Dami grabs a glass and carefully measures out a small portion for you, before guiding it to your lips for you. You drink the oddly sweet liquid, and cock your head at the idol, wasn't this supposed to do something? She rolls her eyes at your impatience, and resumes fondling your genitals with aplomb until you feel a sudden burning spreading from your stomach to your crotch. You groan as your cock grinds upwards until you are staggeringly erect, your brains succumbing to the sweltering sensation wracking your body. Dami's lips part with anticipation as you fill her hand with throbbing meat, she leans back and spreads her legs for you; well?
In a flash you are ravishing Dami, your cock buried fully within her pussy before you could conjure the thought to do so. You rut like an animal, snorting and grunting as you pump between her lithe thighs, forcing her legs back until you are mating pressing her with abandon. Dami for her part responds in kind, the aphrodisiac mixing dangerously with the alcohol. leaving her lethargic yet still possessing some of the sadism she reserves for male fans. Her nail rake your back, she gnaws at your neck, she hoarsely hisses foul imprecations in your ears as you fuck her; all of which drives you further into a mating frenzy. You can dimly register baying laughter and raucous encouragement coming from nearby, but you are unable to focus upon it as your brain melts until it is solely fixated on breeding Dami. So it is to little surprise that you do, howling as your seed pours into her sopping wet cunt, your balls aching as they spend themselves inside of Dami. Who moans as you inseminate her, shuddering as she climaxes from the sheer pleasure of getting bred by a filthy man like you. The fog roiling your mind seems to drain away with your semen, leaving you cognizant, yet still undeniably aroused. When you gather your wits enough to glance down to see how Dami is faring, you find that she is already fast asleep, snoring even as her pussy burps your load out onto the couch.
You turn to find yourself presented with the surprising sight of an upraised ass, it's owners head buried in a trash can and blubbering in torment. Yoohyeon and Siyeon lounge nearby, both of them now thoroughly flushed from both their sex, as well as the alcohol, taking turns languidly slapping the unknown butt. They nod encouragingly as you step closer, blithely urging you to mount the idol, even as you hesitate. Then Handong's head pops out of the trashcan, and she groggily demands you fuck her asshole, slurring as she happily welcomes you inside of her. Siyeon and Yooh chortle at this, obviously used to Handong's eccentricities, and you are further fortified as Jiu joins the pair and endorses the plan; just stick it in her butt already! So you do, pressing your slick cock against the surprisingly unresisting anus, sliding into the stuffy heat of Handong's asshole. Her moans reverberate out of the can as you start to thrust, moving slowly so as to not hurt her more sensitive hole. The trio watching you copulate with their fellow member, pass commentary on your technique as they pour out yet another round of drinks, liberally drinking as they masturbate to the sight of you fucking Handong's butt. Then a familiar softness squishes against your chest, and the reek of whiskey tickles your nose, as Gahyeon presses herself against your back; and whispers slyly to be rougher with her roommate. Unconsciously, your pace increases, causing Handong to grow even louder, her slit now slick enough to wet your balls when they slap against it. She whimpers, less from the pain of having her ass violated and more from the colossal headache she is currently enduring. Finally though, Handong lets out a weak shiver, before going limp as she passes out, her asshole losing any semblance of tightness as her consciousness fades.
The awake members of Dreamcatcher cheer as they drag Handong's head out of the trashcan and lay her on her side, letting her sleep off the alcohol coursing through her veins. Not that your erection had gone unnoticed however, Siyeon and Yoohyeon had staggered back to you and were already fondling it playfully. This time Yoohyeon is the one to take you in her mouth, sucking you enthusiastically as Siyeon toys with your nipples and makes you grope her perky breasts. Gahyeon pouts jealously from next to Jiu and Sua, but her elders are soon soothing her by suckling upon her swaying breasts and fingering her skillfully. Siyeon forces your head back to look at her as she kisses you as lustfully as before, except this time she means to seal the deal. She pushes you back onto the couch, causing Yoohyeon to let out a gasp of inebriated confusion as your cock suddenly flies out of her mouth. Siyeon bites her plump lip as she clambers atop you, rubbing your tip against the soaking folds of her pussy as she prepares to mount you. With a drawn out groan she shoves your now bulbous manhood into her greedy cunt, relishing every inch that slides inside of her. Yoohyeon meanwhile staggers over and starts to grope and kiss Siyeon, playing with her clit as her fellow idol awkwardly attempts to ride you while bearing Yooh's weight. So she settles for a more primal grinding, which was less satisfying than a rough pounding, but still hit her sensitive spots quite nicely. The constant rocking seems to be getting to Yooh however, as her stomach sloshes its contents around precariously until she finally unlatches herself from Siyeon and collapses backwards with a nauseated groan. Which frees up Siyeon for the final stretch as she unleashes her pent up lust upon your cock, twerking and bouncing wildly as she approaches climax. She moans sweetly as her pussy convulses, her folds clenching tight around your manhood and causing it to join her in orgasming, unloading your turgid sperm into the idol. She blows kisses at you as your seed leaks slowly out of her cunt, slowly rocking her hips in the afterglow of sex before gingerly unimpaling herself. Siyeon curls up next to the now resting Yoohyeon, cheerfully uncaring of the mess her sloppy pussy was making on the couch, and promptly joins her cuddle buddy in sleep.
Which leaves the Mom and Dad of Dreamcatcher, as well as their most tumultuous Daughter. Jiu and Sua though appear content to simply lay back and finger one another however, passionately embracing as their perky breasts press together. Gahyeon on the other hand... Gahyeon had been glaring lustfully at you the entire night, and now she could finally slake herself upon you. Gahyeon drains the tankard of beer with a single gulp before sauntering towards you, her face flushed from more than just the massive amount of alcohol she had consumed. Her nipples were fully engorged, her skin slick with sweat and fluids, her pert lips pouting provocatively, her hips swaying seductively as she approaches, her lower lips swollen with desire. Gahyeon doesn't even need to say anything, growling with desire as she forcefully kisses you before getting on her knees before your still undiminished erection. She nuzzles against your hardon, still sticky with Siyeon's cunt juices, as she licks your ventral shaft from root to tip, cleaning it with her tongue. You hump needily against her face, your cock desperate for a hole, causing Gahyeon to smirk knowingly; so she takes you in her mouth. What starts as a sultry blowjob swiftly descends into a furious face-fucking as you treat her throat like it was her pussy, relentlessly fucking it until your balls feel fit to explode. Gahyeon's eyes tear up as she gags and chokes, even an idol as experienced as her unable to breath with the ferocious pace you were setting. Then you suddenly pull out, stroking furiously as she instinctively opens her mouth and unrolls her pink tongue for you to aim at. You groan as thick reams of cum slop out onto Gahyeon's face, your tip pressing against her tongue as the thicker loads leak down into her waiting mouth. She swallows it all of course, before presenting you with her empty maw as proof that she had not wasted a single drop, even as her face remains painted with your seed.
Your head snaps up as Sua cheers your performance, gaily waving a bottle of wine as her fingers churn up her asshole. Jiu now fast asleep next to her. Gahyeon preens at her senior's praise, chugging a bottle of vodka as she leans back and presents you with her chest, with what she had been teasing you with all night long. Her massive breasts wobble precariously as you hesitantly reach over to touch them, shyly at first, but soon you are lustily groping those fatty spheres. Gahyeon gives you a perversely demure look as you maul her tits, her own hands busy at work between her squatting thighs. When you bring your throbbing erection closer however, she smugly takes over for you, squishing her breasts together to form a fleshy cavern for you to fill; spit dribbling down to lubricate her already slick skin. Moaning, you mount Gahyeon's cleavage, your cock swallowed up almost completely by her boobs as you pump between them; your bright red cock head peeking out during your deepest thrusts. She nods frantically, urging you to plow her fat fucking tits as hard as you can, to defile them with your thick cum, to use her body for your own pleasure. With such salacious words in your ears, your balls quickly rise to the occasion, and soon sloppy globs of cum are fountaining up over her rosy breasts, filling her cleavage with sticky fluid as you empty yourself between her boobs. Panting, Gahyeon falls back onto her knees and cleans you off, her cheeks hollowing as she slurps your cock back to its original length.
Gahyeon leaps to her feet, and hops back onto the table, scattering empty bottles as she opens her legs for you in wordless need. You rub your tip through her sopping folds, her slit beyond soaking as it gushes onto your cockhead. She whines in annoyance at your teasing, her legs snapping around your waist and pulling you against her, desperate for your manhood. You both groan as you finally push into her warmth, her pussy gluttonously devouring every inch of your rigid cock. Her legs quiver as she orgasms from this initial thrust, so pent up with arousal that she is unable to contain herself once you are finally within her. So you plow Gahyeon's dripping cunt, violently rocking the table as your sweaty bodies slap together, with the idol exhorting you go fuck her harder and faster. Her arms curl around your neck, your foreheads pressing together as you lock eyes, unable to look away from one another. Gahyeon lets out another deep moan, as once more her pussy spasms around your dick, holding you tight as yet more of her juices leak out onto the table. Trembling, you slowly pull out of her pussy, releasing a gush fluids from the idol's gaping hole, your cock now as messy as it had been before she cleaned it. You haul her off of the table, as Gahyeon gives you a bemused look before you turn her around and bend her over it instead, you want to go deeper. She gasps loudly as you mount her from behind, the staccato clap of her ass hitting your crotch reverberating around the room as you pound away. She claws and grasps at the table as you go into a frenzy, your lust as fired as it had been with Dami, plowing her so hard her voice becomes shrill and piercing. You spank Gahyeon's already ripe-colored cheeks until they burn bright red, clenching tight around her nubile waist to hold her steady as you violate the depths of her hole. Your strokes gradually begin to slow, becoming harder and deeper, causing Gahyeon to harshly shriek for your seed; the idol's brain gone blurry in her need for sexual gratification. Her folds grip your cock like a vice, making every movement painfully enjoyable, forcing you to stay deep inside of her as your sore balls pulsate once more. Gahyeon howls as your semen sputters into her fertile cunt, her own cries easily drowning out your own as she screeches in triumphal pleasure as her pussy is at last doused with cum.
You stagger backwards, followed by Gahyeon who unsteadily wobbles to the couch and collapses next to Siyeon, exhausted from both the sex as well as the alcohol. And you are much inclined to join her, but loud applause comes from the other side of the couch, as Sua cackles with delight from the show you had put on. Though it seems as if the idol herself had been engaged in a performance of her own, judging by the wine bottle currently buried halfway up her ass. You trudge around the table to crumple down next to Sua, who greets you cheerfully enough, though she does seem a touch disappointed as she fondles your now flaccid cock. She congratulates you for cumming inside all of Dreamcatcher, even if you needed a little chemical help to do so. She pulls your head onto her modest breasts, soothingly rubbing it as she woos you to sleep; just rest for now you can get cleaned up in the morning... After all, you will need you strength for tomorrow when Dreamcatcher release the video of you fucking them all senseless.
Oh did they forget to tell you that? Well don't worry, Insomnia is a relatively tame fandom, unless you just porked all of their favorite idols of course...
Sweet dreams!
#smut#kpop smut#dreamcatcher smut#gahyeon smut#jiu smut#Yoohyeon smut#handong smut#SIyeon smut#Sua smut#dami smut
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Trivia Night



It's trivia night with the X-Men and you and Logan always win.
professor logan howlett x professor fem!reader - married couple, cute, fluff, teasing, no y/n used, no reader description, your an english professor, logan is a history professor - imagine days of future past logan with the white streaks in his hair
read on ao3 or find more parts for the series: here
divider credit: @enchanthings
"I’m so excited for trivia night!" You practically bounced as you slipped your arm through Logan’s, a bright grin on your face. The two of you were walking toward the rec room where the rest of the X-Men had already gathered. The low hum of conversation and laughter spilled into the hallway as you approached.
Scott groaned dramatically from across the room when he saw you both coming. "Of course you’re excited," he said, shaking his head with exaggerated exasperation. "Your team always wins."
"There’s a reason for that," Logan chimed in, his deep voice carrying just the right hint of smugness. He shot you a glance, one eyebrow quirked in that playful, knowing way that made your heart skip. "It helps when you’ve got a smart, beautiful wife on your team."
Before Logan could respond, Jean leaned back in her chair, smirking as she tossed a casual arm over the back of Scott’s. "Hey, Scott has me, " she said, lifting her chin with mock pride. "We’re not exactly a lightweight team either. But honestly, I’m starting to think you two cheat."
"Yeah, if anyone’s cheating, it’s the mind reader," you shot back with a laugh, giving Jean a playful wink.
Jean clutched her chest in mock horror. "I would never! " she gasped, trying and failing to keep a straight face. "Besides, if I was really using my powers, I wouldn’t have let Scott blow the last history question."
Scott groaned again, this time for real, shooting Jean an affectionate side-eye. "Don’t remind me," he muttered, clearly still sore about it. "I’m never gonna live that down."
You laughed as you and Logan made your way to the trivia table. The room was cozy, low lights casting a warm glow over the group as drinks and snacks were passed around. Ororo sat perched on a stool, looking effortlessly regal even in casual clothes, while Hank stood by the whiteboard, marker in hand, ready to play quizmaster. The makeshift scoreboard was already drawn up—four teams, all battling for bragging rights.
Logan leaned over, his voice low and playful in your ear. "You ready to dominate?"
You smirked, nudging him with your shoulder. "You know it. I’ve been practicing my useless facts all week."
He chuckled, that low rumble of his that always made you feel warm. "Good. 'Cause I’ve got history covered, but if they throw in anything about literature, I’m leaving it to you."
"Glad we’re clear on that," you replied, giving him a playful side-eye. "But if we get a question about military strategy or weapons, you better be ready to jump in."
"Please," Logan scoffed, a crooked grin on his face. "You think I’m gonna let you handle the history of warfare? I’ve lived through most of it."
"You’ll have to fight me for it," you teased, tilting your head at him, the friendly competition bubbling just beneath the surface.
By now, everyone had settled into their teams. You and Logan, of course, were on one side of the table. Across from you sat Scott and Jean, who were already exchanging looks as if planning their strategy telepathically. Ororo had teamed up with Kurt and Bobby, both of whom were clearly just here for the snacks and chaos. Hank stood at the front of the room, clearing his throat dramatically to get everyone’s attention.
"Alright, folks," Hank began with a theatrical flair, adjusting his glasses as if preparing to host Jeopardy. "Tonight’s categories are History, Literature, Science, Pop Culture, and... a new mystery category."
You could feel Logan’s eyes on you, a silent challenge passing between you. History and literature. It was like this game had been made for you two.
"Oh great, the power couple’s gonna sweep again," Bobby groaned, tossing a chip into his mouth. "Can we even compete with this? They’re, like, unbeatable when they team up."
Kurt laughed, his blue tail flicking lazily behind him as he added, "It’s true. You combine Logan’s brain full of historical facts and your literature knowledge, and the rest of us don’t stand a chance."
Ororo smiled serenely from her side of the table, offering a conspiratorial glance. "Maybe if we pool our weather-related questions, we’ll stand a chance," she teased.
"Yeah, but we got Jean," Scott chimed in, crossing his arms over his chest. "She’s a secret weapon. And," he added with a grin, "I’ve brushed up on my Civil War facts. This time I’m ready."
Jean snorted softly, clearly skeptical. "We’ll see about that."
The game kicked off with a round of science questions, much to Hank’s delight. You and Logan exchanged glances but let Hank’s team take the lead in that category, knowing full well it wasn’t your strongest suit.
But when the history questions rolled around, that familiar spark of competition ignited between you and Logan.
"Which military commander famously led the charge at the Battle of Austerlitz?" Hank asked, glancing over his glasses.
Your hand shot up at the same time as Logan’s.
You turned to him, narrowing your eyes with mock challenge. "Oh no, you don’t. I’ve got this."
Logan raised an eyebrow, leaning back in his chair with that lazy grin of his. "You think I’m just gonna let you take this one, darlin’? Not a chance."
Your heart fluttered, but you didn’t miss a beat. " Napoleon Bonaparte, " you declared, the answer rolling off your tongue with confidence.
"Correct!" Hank called, marking your team’s score on the board.
Logan chuckled under his breath, shaking his head as he leaned closer to you. "Fine. You get this round," he murmured, his voice low enough that only you could hear. "But I’m coming for you when they hit us with the next war question."
You tilted your head toward him, smiling as you whispered back, "Bring it on, tough guy."
As the rounds went on, you and Logan seamlessly dominated your respective categories—he nailed every history and warfare question, while you aced the literature and pop culture ones. But whenever a question overlapped, it was a playful tug-of-war, the two of you good-naturedly vying for the right to answer.
Finally, after a particularly tricky literature question about obscure 19th-century authors, Scott threw his hands up in the air. "Okay, I’m convinced. You two are unstoppable when you combine forces. It’s, like, unfair."
"Yeah, it’s like watching a trivia version of ‘Beauty and the Beast,’" Bobby added with a grin, making everyone laugh.
Logan shot him a look, but there was humor behind it. "Watch it, kid."
You laughed, leaning into Logan a little, feeling the warmth of his presence beside you. "We’re just in sync, that’s all," you said with a playful wink. "Besides, we balance each other out."
Jean gave you both a wry smile. "Yeah, ‘cause who could beat the two of you? You’re like a trivia dream team."
Logan looked down at you, his eyes softening just a little as he smirked. "Guess we do make a good team."
You smiled back, feeling that familiar warmth in your chest, the kind that only came when the two of you were in moments like this—together, teasing, but always connected. "Guess so," you murmured, nudging him playfully. "Just don’t get used to me letting you win every time."
He chuckled, wrapping an arm around your shoulders as the game moved on, his voice low and amused. "Wouldn’t dream of it."
#fluff#logan howlett#wolverine#logan howlett x you#x men wolverine#x men logan#james logan howlett#logan x reader#hugh jackman#logan wolverine#james howlett#professor logan#reader insert#one shot#established relationship#x men days of future past#x men#x men movies
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"nostalgia and night patrols" | daichi, hq
𓂃𓂃𓂃𓊝 ࿐𓂃𓂃𓂃
content: after years apart, a chance encounter with your childhood crush, daichi, leads to a night that opens up a box of unspoken feelings for you; welcome home, y/n.
warnings: fluff, high school classmates to ??, timeskip!daichi, f!reader, y/n is clingy+touchy while drunk, drinking, light cursing
character(s): daichi
word count: 2878
a/n: rewrote this 3-4 times...but timeskip!daichi mmmmm. (not proofread!)
art cred: @/W4W7o (on twt)
𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟
the moon gleams down onto miyagi as you and your friends celebrate your success in opening up your own business. it was only a matter of time before you built something from the ground up, fulfilling a promise you made to yourself to visit your hometown once your shop opened. its been five years since you’ve last been home. you were determined to come back and make your friends and family proud.
keep pushing forward, even when it gets tough.
it pulls at your heartstrings every time; what was he up to these days?
𓇢𓆸 later that night
the bell chimes once more as customers pour into the chaotic restaurant; dishes piling up on each table as work ends for every adult.
“i think that's enough for tonight, y/n!” your friend exclaims in concern while rubbing circles on your back.
what started with light drinking and bubbly laughter ends with your face down on the cold, metal table. your friends worryingly nudge you, fearing the last round might make you hurl.
your raven-haired friend nervously laughs, and you only make groaning noises as a sign of life. “okay! are you ready to take this lightweight home?” she claps her hands together, directing the conversation to the girl with curls framing her face, whose eyebrows furrow in worry for you.
the three of you soon exit the busy restaurant, and you wave your hand in the air, hoping your words reach the owner. “thank you for your service!” your friends stifle a chuckle as they cage you in and hold you up.
“i hope she wakes up and gives us a hundred bucks each for this tomorrow,” the raven-haired girl jokes as she struggles to hold up her end. a sigh heaves on the other side as the curly-haired girl tries to blow her curls out of her face.
as you stumble down the quiet, moonlit street, your intoxicated state makes you a challenging companion. you occasionally mumble incoherent words, your legs wobbling and causing your friends to adjust their grip frequently. you are a comical sight, half-laughing, half-struggling, as you make your way through the sleepy town.
“maybe we should have just gotten a cab,” the curly-haired friend mutters, her breath visible in the chilly night air.
“no way, we’re almost there,” the raven-haired girl replies, though the strain in her voice suggests otherwise.
just as you turn the corner, you almost bump into a tall figure. the streetlight illuminates his familiar features—daichi sawamura. his eyes widen in surprise, then soften in recognition.
“daichi!” the curly-haired friend exclaims, relief washing over her. “perfect timing. can you help us get y/n home? she’s, well, had a bit too much.”
“oh yeah, suprise! y/n’s home.” the other one chimed in, her free hand doing jazz hands.
at the sound of the oh-so-familiar name, you lift your head just enough to peek through your eyelashes.
he looks so grown up now. the light blue uniform clings to his form, the short sleeves seemingly inadequate for the freezing night. yet, he stands unbothered by the cold, a picture of unwavering composure. his broad shoulders fill out the fabric with ease, and the muscles of his arms bulge slightly, pressing against the tight sleeves. in the dim light, his presence is commanding, a blend of strength and tranquility, as if the cold air dares not touch him.
you audibly gasp, a hiccup or two crawling out of your throat.
“desk-mate!” you slur, your words slightly muddled as you throw yourself at him, intoxication evident in the lack of coordination in your movements.
daichi's muscles tense momentarily at the unexpected weight crashing into him, but he quickly steadies himself. his fingerless, black-gloved hand finding its place on your head with a gentle pat. an awkward laugh bubbles from his lips as he glances at your amused friends, one of whom is already lifting her phone to capture the hilarious scene, while the other attempts to push the phone back down.
“hey, easy there,” he chuckles softly. his tone, slightly raspy and warm, makes you straighten up slightly as he tries to guide you to compose balance.
“it’s nice to see you too, y/n,” he adds with a warm smile, his hand continuing to smooth your hair out in a playful yet reassuring manner. his gaze flickered briefly to your friends who are now fully engaged in their mock make-out session; hands crossed and on their backs rubbing all over the place as if it were someone else's.
you don’t say a word as if you could even make out any of the conversation—your heart drumming is to blame.
despite his attempts to help you stand up straight, you droop your head back down. your giggles mixing with the chilly night air as you lean heavily against him.
with practiced ease, daichi catches your stumbling frame once more, positioning himself for you to climb onto his back.
“all right, y/n, can you hop on? i can hold your heels if you want,” he offers gently, mindful not to speak too loudly given your state.
you respond with a playful salute, your movements exaggeratedly dramatic. “aye aye, captain!” you chirp, swiftly kicking off your black wedges before wrapping your arms snugly around his neck.
as daichi hoists the giggling, slightly wobbly you onto his back, he gestures for your two friends to walk in front of him, ensuring they remain within his line of sight. you four navigate through the dimly lit streets.
a few minutes into your impromptu piggyback ride, you, in a moment of drunken clarity, peek over daichi's shoulder and lazily poke his cheek.
“are you the real daichi? like, really?” your words slur slightly, carrying a curious lilt. “i thought i was hallucinating when i first saw you, mr. officer,” you ramble on, your train of thought not allowing daichi a chance to reassure you.
“oh my god, did i just randomly hug you? what if you aren't the real daichi?” your expression shifts to one of concern, teetering on the edge of tears. “it’s okay, you can arrest me, mr. officer. i've been inappropriate with law enforcement,” you add with a serious expression, offering your wrists for imaginary cuffs in shame.
this has daichi turning his head in the opposite direction to stop the laughter bubbling up his throat; a small grin curls upward. you squint at him a bit harder to see and can’t find the answer as to why it’s so funny.
your curious mind once again spoke out loud, “huh? what's so funny, mister? does this mean i’m not going to the slammer?” you reach out, placing your hand over the officer's heart, and sigh in relief as if it were your own.
his footsteps falter for a moment as he clears his throat, “y/n, you don’t have to worry. it’s me, daichi,” finally finding an opening to reassure you.
a few deafening seconds pass by as the cogs in your brain turn. “…oh,” a few more seconds pass, “oh! daichi!” your palm departs from his chest, and snakes upward to squish his cheeks.
the touch of your cold hands once again startles the officer, but they soon warm with the use of body heat.
you ramble on, your palms gently turning his head to face yours. “well, why didn’t you say that in the first place?! ah, it feels good to know i won’t get arrested after all.”
his smile widens, amusement dancing in his eyes. "you know i wouldn't arrest you, even if you tried to talk me into it." he replies, his voice teasing.
he had always been the sensible one in the class, the steady presence that balanced your more pessimistic tendencies. despite your different aspirations—his to excel in nationals and yours to make something of your own—you both found a middle ground through your shared ambition. you admired his dedication and often found yourself inspired by his drive, feelings that blossomed into a secret crush. even though your paths diverged, you continued to support him quietly. however, emails changed and no phone numbers were exchanged making it inevitable to lose touch; yet, the memory of him remained, a constant whisper in the back of your mind.
𓇢𓆸 five years ago
it was a sunny spring day, and the cherry blossoms were in full bloom; their petals gracefully drifting past the glass-paned windows.
our last day together.
you wanted to say it, to let those three words spill out and maybe change everything—but something inside you held your tongue. perhaps, it was the fear of being rejected.
‘you’re leaving for tokyo after graduation. why confess now? and have him wait for you for who knows how long? what if he doesn’t even like you back?’
the more you thought about all the possibilities, the more you convinced yourself against it.
a calloused hand rested on your shoulder, snapping you out of your thoughts. “y/n,” he said, drawing your attention to his familiar short, coal-black hair. “are you worried about something?”
his eyes innocently searched yours.
‘about you, actually.’
“…yeah. i think i might get homesick, you know?” you played along—it was too late anyway. you didn’t want to ruin this happy moment right now; not when it’s the last day before everyone moves on to the next chapter of their lives.
“keep pushing forward, even when it gets tough.” his eyes were filled with concern.
you knew he wanted to say more, but was cut short by the class photographer passing by, wanting a picture of the two of you.
“daichi! y/n! let me get some pictures!” the enthusiastic classmate aligned the camera with you both as you smiled for the picture—daichi’s arm snaked toward your waist, his touch light and almost hesitant.
“say cheese!” the camera clicked twice with flashing lights.
it was a memory you wanted to hold onto forever, even if your heart ached with the words you couldn’t bring yourself to say.
𓇢𓆸 present day
some things never change.
ten minutes pass as daichi ensures the other two ladies make it back to their house safe and sound. both give him a good luck pat and wiggle eyebrows—he only rolls his eyes in response, a tiny chuckle escaping his lips as he watches them disappear into their house.
turning back to you, he notices your eyes drooping. his black boots clack softly on the cement as he continues the trip. “come on, let’s get you home,” he says softly.
the night is quiet, save for the distant sounds of crickets and the occasional car passing by. daichi can feel your breath against his neck, a steady reminder of your presence.
“daichi, you’ve always been there for me,” you mumble, your words barely audible breaking the silence.
just like in old times; he would always stick up for you and be the voice of reason whenever you got too much in your head.
his eyes flicker to the side to check up on you. “i’ll always be here for you, y/n,” he replies, his voice filled with sincerity.
“officer daichi to the rescue,” you tease, your voice filled with playful cheerfulness.
as you approach your front door, daichi pauses, his brows furrowing with apprehension. before he can speak, the door swings open, revealing your parents standing there, worry etched on their faces.
“oh, thank goodness,” your mother sighs in relief—a hand held to her heart as if she had gotten a big scare, “come in, both of you.”
your father steps aside, allowing daichi to guide you inside. “thank you for bringing her home safely, daichi,” he says, patting him on the shoulder.
inside, the familiar warmth of your home wraps around you. daichi gently guides you through the hallway to your bedroom, his touch steady and reassuring. your parents follow, watching with concern as he helps you sit on the edge of your bed, his hands lingering on your shoulders for a moment longer than necessary.
“thank you, daichi,” you mumble, your words slurred with exhaustion. “once again, saving my ass.”
he smiles, patting your head. “get some rest, y/n.”
as he turns to leave, you reach out, your hand catching him. “daichi, wait…”
he stops, looking back at you, his eyes filled with concern. “what is it?”
“daichi, i...” you begin, your voice barely more than a whisper. the words are on the tip of your tongue, but the exhaustion and alcohol make it hard to form them. “i...”
before you can finish, sleep overtakes you, your head falling back onto the pillow. daichi watches you for a moment, a mix of emotions playing across his face. he carefully tucks you in, making sure you’re comfortable.
your mother steps closer, her voice soft. “she’s lucky to have a friend like you, daichi.”
he nervously scratched the back of his neck, the weight of the moment dawning on him as he realized this was the first time meeting your parents. "of course," he managed, a hint of awkwardness tinging his chuckle as it slipped out.
“ah, i’m going to run to the store mrs. l/n. just to get her some remedies for tomorrow morning.” she simply nods with a heartwarming smile.
𓇢𓆸 the following morning
soft morning sunlight filters through the cream-colored curtain, casting a warm glow in the room.
you groan slightly and squint to see daylight once again. your hand lifts, reaching your forehead to pinch the pounding in your head. blinking slowly, you try to piece together the events of the previous night.
as you push yourself up, a wave of dizziness hits, and you groan again, cursing your choice to drink so much.
your eyes catch sight of a bottle of water and a few painkillers on the bedside table, alongside a neatly folded note. curiosity piqued, you reach for the note, recognizing daichi's familiar handwriting.
good morning, y/n. i hope your hangover isn’t too bad. i left some medicine for you. take it easy and rest up. if you need anything, don’t hesitate to call me. - daichi (xxx-xxx-xxxx)
you read the note twice, a mix of gratitude and embarrassment flooding your senses. memories of the previous night begin to surface—your friends struggling to take you home, running into daichi, him carrying you to your bed.
you cringe inwardly, recalling drunken ramblings and how you almost confessed your feelings.
“dear god…” you whisper to yourself, the reality of your behavior sinking in. “what did i do?”
you flop back onto the pillow, groaning loudly.
“why did it have to be daichi? after all these years, and i act like that?” you cover your face with your hands, feeling the heat of embarrassment rise to your cheeks.
images of daichi’s concerned face, his gentle reassurances, and his steady hands guiding you through your house flood your mind. you remember leaning into him, nuzzling his neck, and calling him "officer daichi" with a teasing cheerfulness.
“why did i do that?!” you mutter, your hand repeatedly hitting your pillow as if that could erase the memories.
your heart races as you recall the moment you almost confessed, your drunken state allowing you to voice the feelings you’ve kept buried for so long; thanking the universe sleep had taken over you beforehand.
“what does he think of me now?” you wonder aloud, anxiety creeping in. “i acted like such an idiot.”
you take a deep breath, trying to calm your racing thoughts. unscrewing the bottle of water, you down the painkillers, hoping they’ll at least take care of the headache. as you do, you glance at the note again, daichi’s words providing a small comfort.
“always helping everyone still,” you whisper to yourself.
you couldn't help but glance over again at the digits scribbled at the end of the note; your heart fluttered once more like a teenager giggling over a crush.
𓇢𓆸 last night
with the small box of headache medicine in hand, he approached the counter, fumbling for his wallet. as he pulled it out, something fell from one of the inner pockets—a small, slightly worn photo. daichi paused, staring at the picture that had slipped out.
the photo was from high school, a candid shot taken by one of their classmates. in it, you were smiling brightly, your eyes crinkling at the corners with genuine happiness. daichi was right beside you, but his gaze wasn’t on the camera; it was on you. his expression was soft, a quiet admiration in his eyes that he had never voiced out loud.
a soft smile tugged at daichi’s lips as he remembered the moment. he could almost hear the laughter of that day, and feel the warmth of your presence beside him. tucking the photo back into his wallet, he felt a pang of nostalgia mixed with something more—a longing that had never quite gone away.
‘you’re finally home’
a surge of emotion washing over him. it was as if he had been waiting all these years, silently holding onto the hope that one day, you'd return.
the weight of unspoken words and hidden glances pressed heavily on his heart.
he was set on making sure you saw him more than just a lingering memory of the past.
𓇼𓆉𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆉𓇼
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