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bitchimasnake-sss · 11 months

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"my girlfriend's a nerd" ft. the monster trio!

self explanatory self-indulgent drabbles to soothe my book!loving ass

ft. luffy, zoro and sanji x fem! reader set-up: you like books, he likes you that's it warnings: none lmao this is very sfw. one might call it wholesome even. m.list

luffy:

thats my baby ^^

— im not even sure if this mf can read 😭😭

— honestly 9/10 chance he can't but when has that ever stopped him from being our most supportive himbo king

— go king give us everything!!

— he doesn't get why you read books when instead you can be like sleeping or eating or looking at the sea but well, he doesn't question it

— he just thinks it's a weird hobby you have (i don't think he's aware of how freakishly illiterate he is)

— but just cause he thinks it's weird that doesn't mean he wouldn't hug you half-asleep when he hears you sobbing into the dead of the night or he wouldn't listen with keen interest when you explain the plot of your favourite book as he wraps his arms around you and hums into your hair

— will 100% offer to fight the author/ tear up the book everytime he sees you having a breakdown over a particular scene/character

"who should I kill?!" the deadpan seriousness in his voice is what terrifies you

"nobody! I'm okay–"

— after you explain to him that hurting somebody is not necessary and you're fine, he will try to coddle you with extended hugs and food (lots and lots and lots of food).

"yn you should eat something! should I get you something to eat??" you can hear the panic in this poor boys voice 😭😭

"no luffy, its okay. im fine!" you say through sniffs and snorts, eyes bloodshot from crying over ink on paper

"brb" and he gets you dinner enough for 5 people because that's how he knows to comfort you (willingly took sanjis kicks and namis punches to accomplish this mission)

— since he's a clingy little child, he will hold onto you some way or the other when you're reading

— you're reading in your room while he's fast asleep? his arm is draped across your waist lazily. you're on the other side of the deck, sunbathing and reading? his hand is stretched out from where he's sitting and on your thigh (ussop tripped thrice over his hand, rip god ussop 🙏) . you're reading during breakfast cause the book just got so good? his toe is rubbing your calf up and down periodically (he won't stop no matter how many weird looks you give him)

— conclusion: he doesn't at all get it what it is, but if it makes you happy he will spend all the berries in the world to buy you those books (plz know if you actually ask him to jokingly off an author for killing your favourite character, he will do it. please don't ask him that.)

— he's just so supportive and nice 😭😭

"my girlfriends a nerd, I love her" (ussop explained to him what a nerd was and now he's introducing you like this to everybody)

zoro:

the shades tho 😎

— I'm convinced this mf can't read either

— even he can there's like literally no evidence to prove it and the entire crew has come to the conclusion that he gets lost even with clear directions because he just can't read please 😌👌

— at the start, he actually thinks it's dead stupid to invest so much time reading books when you can do other stuff like getting stronger, sleeping, literally doing anything else (luffy backs up his opinion with full enthusiasm)

— i mean like he's seen you sob at 7 in the morning over breakfast cause your fav character died and now he's confused as to why are you spending money and buying books if they make you cry so hard (he doesn't understand the concept of angst im afraid)

— but over time he just accepts it as something you enjoy and well, if it makes you happy then who is he to question it?

— acts like he doesn't care/isn't listening when you're rambling about the plot and how thE MAIN CHARACTER IS IN LOVE WITH HIS ENEMY AND VICE VERSA SKEJFHSJKSN but is actually fully listening

— he's actually invested at one point

"but they are enemies? why does he wanna be with him?"

"you don't get it! thats the appeal!!"

"the appeal is forcing a knife on somebody's throat?" he's laughing, "as if you'd enjoy it if i threatened you with my swords"

"... i would actually enjoy that"

he is now asking nami for loan to send you to a therapist (nami has seen you nosebleed over fictional characters and is considering giving money away to zoro for free. you really do need help.)

— as I said, he's invested now (although he does question your taste every now and then) but he'd force you to either summarize the plot to him as he trains or read out loud so he can hear the story as it goes.

— so naturally you're now sitting on his back, reading out loud as he does push-ups

— this beloved himbo has now formed strong opinions about characters and will battle you with headcanons because "there's no fucking way the hero would ever go back to the villain after that! that's ridiculous! if he does I'll sell my swords off."

— will remember the stuff you told him, no matter how trivial, so if you get off an island and he spots a keychain from your fav book series he's spending whatever money he has left to buy you it

"oh excellent choice! who are you buying it for?" the shopkeeper lady questions aloud

"oh, my girlfriend." he's smiling, "my girlfriends a nerd."

— actually looks forward to you telling him all the plot details and jokes at this point (one might call him a part of the fandom now)

— when you're a crying, sobbing mess because a character died, he's genuinely comforting you (no matter how bad he is at it)

"yn it's okay, you want some sake?" he is hugging you, patting your head like you're a child

"no 😭😭" you sob harder into his chest

"well... that's the best i can offer"

he tried. it's not his fault you don't wanna drink your feelings away.

— conclusion: he started off thinking its stupid and now he's an honorary nerd. would never admit it though. stubborn asshole.

sanji:

he's actually so pretty tho ^^

— he actually liked reading books before you even joined the crew although his tbr consists of cookbooks and auto-biographies about the people he has some interest in

— he started reading so that he could impress zeff with his knowledge on cooking and other miscellaneous stuff (imagine kid!sanji reading a book till late night under a lamp cause he wants to impress his old man that's so cute 😭😭)

— respects your hobbies when he finds out you like reading

— and then he sees your book collection. whY ARE THERE LIKE 5000 BOOKS HERE?! NOW HES SCARED FOR YOUR SANITY CAUSE GIRL WTF

— he hears you recommend a book to robin/nami once and now he's running to the nearest bookstore on the next island you guys land on to buy it

— he obviously did it to impress you and win you over but goddamn that book was actually pretty nice. so, the next time he asks you for recommendations he's actually a bit sincere

— now you're both in a book club of your own (which makes luffy mad cause why are you leaving him out of conversations :/)

— like zoro, he often asks for updates on the book you're currently reading while he cooks everyone food. he loves hearing you talk about the things you like.

— when he sees you crying over books, he is making you sweet stuff to soothe you, holding you and rubbing your back supportingly, peppering kisses to make you feel better

— he's so fine 😫😫

— anyways, also def the kind of person to ask you to roleplay things in real life

"yn-saaaan" his voice is bubbly, "can i ask you something?"

"mhm?"

"the last book you read–" his face is going a little bit red, "you think we can maybe... do that irl?"

now it's your turn to go red

— but no fr, he's so so supportive of your little hobby like yes baby! read those books and have fun imagining people in your head

— 100% matches your vibe when you crush on fictional characters cause "you're right. he is actually very attractive" (a bi king we love)

— once zoro made fun of you for reading and this was his response: "you can't even read, mosshead. the next time you speak shit I'll kick your ass."

"who said I CANT READ? AND AS IF ILL LET YOU KICK MY ASS!"

"I TOTALLY WILL KICK YOUR ASS"

now they are fighting while ussop, luffy and chopper laugh in the background

— but yes he loves staying up late, reading with you before you both cuddle and fall asleep

— you once read about a specific sort of dish in a book and mentioned that it sounds delicious so now obviously he has to go make that dish. it doesn't matter if it's 1 am at night.

— when nami asks him what he's cooking, he just smiles and shrugs, "i dunno either, im just trying to make yn happy. she's such a nerd"

— conclusion: an enabler, an enthusiast. this man is ready to buy you books and then read them if it makes you happy. only the finest for his favourite lady <3

a/n: enjoy my wayward thoughts about these fine men! m.list

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sunflowersteves · 1 year

Note

Could you write about Carmen getting your name tatted on his chest ? 🫶

yes I can, babes 😌

warnings || tattoos, absolutely pure fluff, making out, mentions of anxiety, not edited

masterlist

Carmen let out a deep breath, nerves prickling his skin, as he started to open the door of your apartment. His fingers from his other hand nervously tapped against the side of his thigh, all due to the anxiety that settled into his bones.

What if you hated it? What if you found it disgusting? Would you hate him?

The endless questions and unknown reactions flooded his head. It started to make him dizzy as he padded off into the living room.

“Baby?” He called out. His voice had a edge to it that made him want to cringe.

“In here, lovebug.” Instantly, he could feel his shoulders relax. The soft, caressing sound of your voice had silenced almost all of those trepidatious thoughts. Almost.

He barely moved an inch from where he stood. He knew your voice echoed from the bedroom, but his body refused to move. As always, his flight or fight response wanted to hone in on flight.

He took another deep breath. “Carmy?” You say. It was so soft and sweet that it melted his insides. Concern was evident by his lack of appearance and response.

This is so stupid. He was so stupid.

His mouth clamped shut. It was as if his body couldn’t quite catch up to his brain—which was racing a mile per minute. His finger continued to tap the side of his thigh.

You found yourself walking out into the living room, eyebrows furrowed. “Carmy baby, what’s the matter?”

You gently caress his jaw and it takes everything inside of him not to reach out. He wants to sit lovingly on the couch with your body on top of his, all while you watch some show.

More than half of the time he’s not even paying attention. His mind is either concocting a new recipe or thinking about how good your weight feels on top of him. His thoughts are all food or you.

“I have s-something to show you.” He curses inwardly at the stuttering of his voice. He hated how nervous he was for this.

It’s just you. Miraculously and amazing you.

Your eyebrows are furrowed once more, but your soft touch never wavers. He forces himself to take a big breath, eyes avoiding your stare.

He slowly takes off his white t-shirt. His hands shake as he pulls it over his head. His gold chain thumps against his chest and your eyes lowered. Then they lower again.

You let out a gasp. It was loud and shocking as it echoed against the apartment walls. “Oh, Carmy.” You whisper.

He sucks in a breath—anxiety toppling over as he spills his feelings. “W-well, uh, I know I said I was getting that arm piece. Like-like we talked about, you know? But then I-I started thinking and all I ever really wanted was you. So-so, yeah.” His hand was furiously pushing through his curls through the entire speech.

Your eyes are just glued to his chest. He gulps, hating the complete silence. However, you were just in awe.

Right on the center of where his heart is supposed to be was your initials in black ink. Your initials. The tattoo outlined in red from the irritated skin.

“Do you like it?” He says. He thought it was going to seem confident but the waver of his vocal cords say otherwise.

You finally look up into his eyes. You could’ve sworn you could stare at it for years. You open your mouth to reply but nothing comes out. Your heart pounds against your ears—his too. Having to wait for your response was torturous.

Instead of words, your body flings itself onto his. Your mouth slides over his and molds together as one. Your hands find themselves into his hair and pull. It was as if there was some switch that went off in your head. All you wanted, needed, and cared for right now was Carmen.

He pours out a moan when his tongue pushes between your lips and collides with yours. He could taste the leftover peppermint soufflé that you had after lunch. God, you tasted like fucking heaven.

You pull away before getting ahead of yourself. Carmen needed to go back to the restaurant for the night rush, but you wanted to pounce on him right then and there—give him kisses for a life time.

He laughs, which causing a chuckle to bubble from your own chest too.

“I fucking love it, Carmy.” You huff out. You were quite breathless from the kiss.

His eyes sparkle as his hands squeeze your waist. “Yeah?”

You nod, eyes looking glossed over. You were drunk on him—on Carmy.

“Yeah, lovebug. I might have to get one for myself. A C.B. just for you.”

He finally smiles, bright and toothy. His heart beats faster than ever, but now, it’s for a different reason.

“Sounds perfect, baby. Just perfect.”

#carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x you #carmy berzatto x you #carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto fluff #the bear #the bear fx #the bear hulu #the bear fanfiction #carmen berzatto fanfiction

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sonotpattismith · 8 days

Note

Inexperienced yuji and reader working their way up to taking each others v cards 🙏🙏🙏

hold me and explore me (Yuji Itadori x Reader)

word count: 7.1k

warnings: college!au, smut, suggestive content, 18+

other request: okay so ive had this idea for so long- Yuji, Megumi, Yuta, Toge, maki, nobara and reader are all friends. truth or dare game that turns spicy (maybe a reader x yuji or reader x megumi au) and they confess their... spicy preferences and confess their feeling to eachother... ya idk if thats weird but thought id request it if youre open to it.

other request: virgin yuji x virgin reader - dating for a long time and slowly trying things out together.

a/n: I combined like 3 requests into one because they were similar, and I had a vision. Also, track and field Yuji simply had my heart I apologize 😌

You just wanted to crawl in a hole and die. It was that feeling-- you know-- the one you get when you walk into a highschool cafeteria, or the break room in a brand new job, and everyone seems to be privy to something you have no clue about? They seem to laugh at inside jokes, whisper knowingly about topics it seemed like you were just too stupid to catch onto. And, sure, you could just ask what they were talking about, but that would mean subjecting yourself to the mortifying fate of exposing yourself as a complete and utter loser. That’s what that night felt like.

When you agreed to an innocent game of truth or dare with a few of your beloved friends, something deep within you sent off warning signals that these kinds of ‘innocent’ games usually end very badly for big, dumb virgins like yourself. You’re not sure what it was that set off the red flags to begin waving in your mind. Maybe it was the bottle (or three) of shochu they brought into the usual hangout. Maybe it was the fact that half of you were already half-way tipsy when the game was suggested. More than likely though, it was the fact that your way-too-hot and way-too-oblivious boyfriend was in company tonight as well.

So, as you sat back on your hands, with everyone’s eyes expectantly on you, even your crossed legs and chunky sweater couldn’t make you feel less exposed. Oh god, you thought you might throw up right there. Should you make up an answer? Which one would make you sound like you knew what you were talking about, without making it sound like you seriously knew what you were talking about? If your prolonged silence wasn’t awkward enough, your burning cheeks surely were doing you in, but, shit-- how else were you supposed to react to that question?

What kind of weird shit are you into in bed?

Maybe you should’ve just said dare and not been such a pussy. Sure, you probably wouldn’t have been subjected to chugging an obscene amount of alcohol despite your already tipsy state, but it's not like your friends would have subjected you to anything too horrible. Whatever it would have been couldn’t have been worse than exposing yourself as an inexperienced loser in front of your boyfriend.

Speaking of the devil, you felt the unmistakably warm hand of Yuji Itadori himself slide over your fidgeting hand in comfort. He could see it all over you that you were absolutely mortified-- a deer caught in headlights. While he absolutely, so desperately wanted to hear your answer to this question, his instinct to jump in and ease the tension for you outweighed any horn-dog desire flooding his mind.

“Why do ya’ wanna know, Kugisaki? Tryna get in my girl’s sheets?”

The drunken group giggled deliriously at his challenging question. All at once, they began talking over each other, hooting and hollering over god knows what. You couldn’t even bring yourself to try to listen as your chest seemed to cave in on itself with a sigh of relief. Hesitantly, you stole a glance to your right at Yuji, who’s warm eyes were already on you. They sparkled with that boyish glint that was so characteristic of him. Placing a hand behind you, he leaned in, lips brushing against your ear in a way that made a shiver run down your spine.

“I still wanna know, by the way.”

The light tone in his voice was enough to tell you that he was just teasing you, but his noticeably more intense gaze, the way it dragged up your frame when he pulled away-- it told you a larger part of him really, really wanted to know. You chuckled nervously, hoping he wouldn’t notice. He turned back to your group of friends with an amused smirk on his face. Thankfully, everyone seemed to have forgotten about the fact that you didn’t finish your turn. You hoped the same of your boyfriend as he walked you back to your dorm room that night.

“If you even attempt to get me up in the morning to go on a run with you, I’ll kick your ass into Mars.” You warned as you rubbed your fingers into your temples that were already buzzing with the beginnings of a migraine. Yuji pouted dramatically as you flopped back onto your bed. Leaning forward, he replaced your hands with his own to give you a light massage. You groaned softly at the feeling, allowing your eyes to shut peacefully.

“Feels nice, huh?”

You hummed in agreement and leaned into his delicate touch. Too entranced in the sensation of his hands on you, you didn’t notice the way he leaned down, his face just inches from you.

“Nice enough that you’ll answer your truth from earlier?”

Your eyes flew open, and you gasped at the sudden proximity. He flashed you a wolfish grin. The coolness of your pillow sheet served as a slight solace for your burning cheeks as you turned your head away from him in embarrassment. An unconvincing scoff fell from your lips.

“That was a stupid question.” You muttered, trying to stop the pounding in your chest as he moved to make himself comfortable beside you. It was a firm indicator that he was definitely not letting up any time soon. Softly grasping your jaw between his fingers, he moved you to face him again.

“Not stupid to me.” Yuji pressed, smiling at the way you blushed under his gaze. He ran a finger down the side of your heated cheek. “I wanna know what you like… what turns you on.”

The casual manner in which he spoke about such things only served to further convince you that he had way more experience than you did. What you didn’t know though, was the way his heart was pounding wildly in his chest, and how he waited with bated breath for your answer. Despite his charming confidence and boyish charisma, the only action Yuji Itadori had ever seen was from his own right hand. He knew your relationship would be progressing soon— god, how he wanted it to, but his nerves were eating him up inside at the thought of making a fool of himself in front of you. So, when Nobara presented that question, he thought the gods had smiled upon him, and this could give him a head start to figuring you out before he was a sputtering, moaning mess beside you.

“C’mon, babe,” he spurred you on with a nervous smile. “I’m your boyfriend… you can tell me.”

“I don’t even know how to answer that question, nor am I near drunk enough to be having this conversation right now.” You were shaking your head as if it would rid you of the butterflies taunting you with the way he was drinking you in with that longing gaze of his. “Go on, you’re too drunk to be allowed access to sleepover privileges tonight.”

“Hey!” His Oscar-worthy pout made another appearance as you tugged on his arms to urge him to get up. It was proven more difficult than you anticipated, what with the pounds of pure muscle that clung to every inch of him. Despite your struggle, he stumbled to his feet along with you. The giddy boy haphazardly fought against you as you pushed him toward the door. The tips of his fingers clung against the door frame as he leaned into you from just outside the door. “Think about it— yeah?”

His light eyes held a sincerity that made you melt, his nose brushing yours as he stared down at you. You felt breathless, watching the way the muscles in his shoulders flexed as he held himself up on the door. Suddenly, one of his hands was coming up to cup your chin.

“Promise?”

You could only nod dumbly at him, causing a wide, tipsy smile to break out on his face. Swinging forward, Yuji smacked a fat, sloppy kiss on your lips before balancing himself on his feet once again and shutting your door behind him.

Despite your insistence on not being woken up the next morning, you still found yourself strolling out to the track with your bag in tow that morning. You had never really been a morning person, or a running person in general. So, when you started dating Yuji, he'd look up at you with those big, sparkly brown eyes and beg you to accompany him in the mornings. After coming to a compromise that you would just sit and watch, his metaphorical tail practically began wagging. Truthfully, the boy didn’t even care if you were running or not. He just wanted you to watch so he could show off a little. That first morning you sat in the grass, watching him intently as he zoomed past you on his fourth lap without so much as breaking a sweat— the way your mouth hung open slightly, impressed eyes following him deftly around the track— it was better than any pre-workout he’d ever lay his hands on.

It had become a morning routine of yours now to sit out in the grass as the sun was rising to watch him run. You would always bring a book or your laptop with you to make it seem as though you were busy with something. Whatever distraction it was typically ended up abandoned on your lap in favor of the way the muscles in your boyfriend’s back would ripple with every purposeful step he took, and he knew it too. So, you tried to sleep in that morning to nurse the tiny hangover that plagued you, but your body was already up and ready to be entertained at the crack of dawn.

As you leaned back onto the grass, allowing the barely risen sun to soak through your skin, you thought about what Yuji had requested of you the night prior. It’s not that you didn’t want to explore those things with him, but you couldn’t help but feel like he may look at you differently should your lack of experience come up. You’d had boyfriends in the past, not many, but two or three. They were all high school fads, boys you only ever saw in class or once a week in a bowling alley or movie theater. All that came from those flings were disappointing make out sessions and uncomfortable boob grabbing that were always abruptly halted with a rushed ‘this isn’t gonna work out’ from your frazzled lips.

When you began college, finding a boyfriend wasn’t exactly a top priority for you, but you certainly felt a bit more confident in your ability to pick them out with your older age. So, when Yuji Itadori stumbled toward your table at the campus cafe, still in his muddied up track uniform and giggly friends pushing him forward, the corny pickup line that fell from his lips actually worked on you. Maybe it was the goofy confidence on his face that appeared as though he really was convinced that it would work. Maybe it was his two friends that stood a few feet behind him observing with mortified expressions that said I can’t believe he just said that. Whatever it was, it made your heart skip a beat when you laughed boisterously in his face and, rather than being offended like he probably should have been, he laughed nervously along with you. He scratched the back of his head awkwardly, just thinking about how he really didn’t intend that to be funny but whatever works, right?

It had been almost four months since that fated afternoon in the cafe, and the both of you couldn’t have been more happy that that dumbass line accidentally worked on you. But then again, it had been almost four months, and it had just never come up in conversation between you two. You were almost positive that Yuji was being sweet Yuji and didn’t want to rush you, but he could have sworn he was just too much of a dumbass to charm you into allowing him the privilege of sharing such intimacy with you yet.

Maybe it’d be better to just let it play out— let him take over and show you the ropes. Still, you couldn’t help the knawing anxiety in you that told you being a virgin at your grown age was definitely not attractive and would absolutely change things between you two. Groaning in frustration, you flopped back down onto the grass behind you.

“Sit up, you’ll get ants in your ears.”

Gasping in horror, you shot up with your hands pressed over your ears. Nobara snickered as she set her bag down to sit beside you. At the sight of the very woman who was to blame for this predicament you’ve been put in, you grumbled. Her glowing face scrunched up in question at your sudden attitude.

“I am never going to another one of your hangouts if I even smell a drop of alcohol in the vicinity.” You huffed, watching as Yuji circled around in front of you. Without stopping, a wide smile stretched across his cheeks upon seeing that you did come after all. Waving aggressively to you, he continued his run with a bit more of a pep in his step. He had an important audience now, after all. Smiling softly, you waved back at him.

“What a loser.” The red head feigned a gag, but there was an amusement in her eyes as she watched how eager her best friend was to impress you. Tearing her gaze from the idiot who was currently running at the speed of light in hopes his girlfriend was watching, she tilted her head at you. “And what did I do?”

“You got Yuji all horned up with that question about what I like in bed.”

“First of all, ew.” She blinked roughly as if trying to rid the image of her horny friend from her mind. “Second of all, what’s the issue? Is he seriously that bad at—”

“I’m a virgin, Kugisaki.”

She fell silent, blinking rapidly at the girl in front of her, who had grabbed at the redhead’s knees in exasperation. While you partly felt bad for putting Nobara in the awkward position of having to talk about her friend’s sex life in such a way, you couldn’t help it. Even when you were first introduced to her, you were silently thanking the gods that there was a girl you could talk to about these things, given you were a little bit of a loner yourself.

“You two haven’t…”

You shook your head desperately at her.

“And now he wants to know what I like in bed, and I don’t know. He’s gonna think I’m a loser, or I’m gonna be horribly disappointing in the sack, and he’s gonna—”

“Why don’t you just tell him all this?” Nobara suggested slowly, watching the way Itadori looked over at them with a fond smile as he passed them up once again. Now, she knew damn well Yuji Itadori was a total virgin with a capital V. She recalls him talking about finally having gotten a blowjob once, but that he was too drunk to remember it but it ‘totally still counted’. She wanted to help ease your nerves about your own inexperience, but she also felt it wasn’t her place to disclose such information to you.

“Because, he’s probably been with so many girls and knows so much more than me, and I just feel like a loser by comparison. I’m a loser, Kugisaki. A sad, virgin, loser.”

“This dude gets more pathetic the more I get to know him.” She seethed quietly with her pointer finger and thumb pressed against the bridge of her nose. “Listen, trust me, and be honest with him. Itadori seriously likes you, and if he finds out you’re holding out on him cause you’re scared he’ll think you’re a loser, he’s gonna be upset. Like sulking in the corner, growing mushrooms with his own fumes upset.”

“You think so?” You mumbled into your knee, toying with a blade of grass below you.

“Trust me, that idiot will be so excited to get you under him, he probably won’t even notice if you just rag-dolled it.”

The mental image made you laugh unabashedly, and Nobara smiled at your easing mood. She playfully elbowed your arm, leaning back on her hands as she regarded you in curiosity.

“And how has no one ever tried to get in your pants before? You got a chastity belt or something?”

Shaking your head, you looked down shyly. “I didn’t say they haven’t tried…”

“I knew it!” Nobara exclaimed as you shushed her desperately, watching from the corner of your eye as Yuji slowed his pace and began heading toward you two. “You were breaking hearts left and right before this loser came along, weren’t you?”

“Shut up!”

As you dragged yourself through your classes that day, you were mentally hyping yourself up to have that conversation with Yuji later. He typically stacked his classes in the mornings so his afternoons would be free for track meet and, of course, you. As you glanced down at the time in the corner of your laptop, your leg bounced anxiously. Would he really take it as well as Nobara made it seem?

Whenever you wanted more time to think, to stew, to just marinate in your own anxiety, time always seemed to move that much faster. Four o’clock rolled around faster than you had anticipated, and your feet seemed to falter with every step you took toward Yuji’s dorm. With a shaky breath, you unlocked the door with the small key he’d given you a few weeks ago. Upon hearing the sound of the shower still running, your tense shoulders eased up a bit. Dropping your bag down in his desk chair, you flopped back onto his bed. You had a plan, you had your words prepared, you were ready to make this as normal and not awkward as possible.

As Yuji stepped out of his small, steam filled bathroom though, only clothed in his sweat shorts that barely covered his mid thighs, wet, pink hair clinging to his forehead, your plan suddenly went to shit. He smiled excitedly upon seeing that you were already there, but his pearly whites were the last thing you were focused on right now. Jesus, they don’t make men’s shorts long anymore? His tanned, defined runner’s thighs were practically on full display for you to drink in greedily.

“Is my dick hanging out or something?”

You were snapped from your trance by his brash question, looking up to find him staring down at his lower half in question before glancing back up at you curiously. Shaking your head with flushed cheeks and a smile, you laughed at his blunt tone.

“No, just like those shorts on you is all.”

“Oh, you do?” Yuji looked back down at himself once again with a shy smile before coming to lean over your spot on the edge of his bed. Your breath hitched when his knee came up to sink into the small space between your legs as he climbed over you, grasping the side of your neck in his hand. “I’ll wear them more often then.”

Without allowing you time to respond, he pressed a chaste kiss to your lips. You sighed contentedly at the feeling of his warm body hovering over yours. Brining your hands up, you allowed your fingers to graze over the rippling muscles of his thigh, your fingernails unconsciously grazing along the skin. He hummed against you, bringing his other leg up to rest beside you, effectively caging you between him and the bed.

“Did you—mmph,” The boy could barely tear himself away from you long enough to get his question out. Your free hand came up to run through his wet hair. “Did you think about what I asked you?”

You suddenly remembered why you were here in the first place.

“About that—” But he was everywhere, his lips moving to sloppily cover your cheeks in soft kisses, grasping your waist in his free hand. It began to creep up your shirt, until you felt the tips of his fingers graze the hem of your bra. You gasped and reached out to grasp his wrist. “Yuji, I wanted to— hah— t-talk to you about something.”

“‘M listening, babe.”

Somehow, with the way he had his pink head buried in the crook of your neck, his teeth grazing and suckling the sensitive skin there, you highly doubted that. Still, he squeezed gently at your ribs in encouragement. His hand strained against your grip on his wrist as if aching to continue his exploration of your chest. You swallowed anxiously, the fingers that were woven in his drying hair tightened. Once that small moan escaped his lips, you couldn’t hold back anymore.

“Yuji, I’m a virgin.”

You felt his lips abruptly halt against you, and his hand stopped trying to fight against yours. Squeezing your eyes shut, you cringed at the crushing silence. Suddenly, you were just desperate to fill it and break the sudden tension.

“I should’ve told you earlier, but I was just kind of embarrassed, and I didn’t want you to think I was a loser or pathetic or something. I completely short-circuited when Nobara asked me about what I liked cause I just don’t—”

“Oh my god— thank god!”

Your rambling was cut short by his sudden, ecstatic proclamation. He sat up abruptly, pulling you into his lap as he moved to sit over the side of the bed. His hands came up to grip your cheeks in disbelief.

“I thought you were gonna expect me to be able to lay down some master pipe or something, oh my god— I can’t breathe.”

“Yuji!” Your bubbling laugh filled your chest, dispelling all previous anxiety quicker than you could have anticipated. For just a moment, you allowed his words to sink in in disbelief. “Are you saying—”

He cut you off with a small nod, his cheekbones flushing pink. With a timid smile, he ran his hands down your shoulders and arms to grasp your waist.

“Even if I wasn’t— I don’t care if the whole damn university has run through me— I could never think you were a loser. Not a bigger loser than me, anyway.”

As if the warmth in your chest couldn’t spread anymore, his sweet words only made that heat travel down south. Maybe it was his unwavering compassion, or maybe it was just that you could finally rest easy knowing you two were on even playing fields. Whatever it was, it had you crashing forward to meet his awaiting lips once again.

There was a newfound eagerness in your desperate kisses now. Something had shifted between you two, and it seemed as though a whole new area of one another was just unlocked. Your bodies were timid, unexplored— drawn toward the other. Though neither of you would likely admit it, it excited you both that each of you would be the first to experience one another in such a way.

“We can take it easy now, yeah?” He offered breathlessly between bruising kisses. The hands that were wrapped around his shoulders snaked down to explore the muscles that rippled underneath them. His back arched ever so slightly, mouth falling open in response to your soft caressing. “Take— ahh— our time.”

You hummed in agreement, but neither of you seemed too eager to ease up on your desperate pursuit. Yuji dipped his head down to press sloppy kisses over your collarbones. He almost ripped the neckline of your shirt in an attempt to gain more access.

“Exactly.” you whispered, already out of breath from the anticipation rising in you. Your head fell to the side to encourage his continued attack on your neck. Despite your agreement, you didn’t stop him when his hands sneaked under your top and threw it over your head.

“Oh, fuck.” Yuji groaned without an ounce of shame as he stared down at your bra-clad chest. He was eternally grateful that you had something on under there, because he was convinced he would have busted right in his shorts if he saw your bare tits with no preparation right now. Your cheeks burned under his intense gaze, and you instinctively moved to cross your arms over your chest. At once, his hands came up to cage your elbows at your sides, dipping down to press kisses to the plush pillows. A soft moan of surprise escaped you. Your boyfriend’s head perked up at the sound, and he looked at you with sparkling eyes. “You like that?”

Tongue tied, you could only nod wordlessly. Releasing his grip on one of your arms, his fingers set ablaze each inch of skin they traversed on their way up to cup your jaw affectionately.

“What else do you like, angel?”

It came out of you like word-vomit, all previous notions of apprehension and timidness lost on you under his fiery gaze. His brown eyes shone in a way that you swear you’d kill a man for should Yuji ask while batting those fluttery eyelashes at you.

“I like the way you hold me like that—” You babbled mindlessly, breasts arching into his chest. The boy thought his brain was going to fry right then and there, watching the way you were falling apart on his lap. “And I like the way your thighs look in those shorts—”

“Yeah?”

You would have kept going had it not been for his eager interruption, and you were partly grateful for it as you were positive you would have embarrassed yourself. Once again, you only nodded. He shifted under you, maneuvering you slowly to sit against his left thigh, a hand hesitantly coming up to press against your back. In an instant, you felt the taut muscles of his thighs flex beneath the thin fabric of your shorts. You gasped at the feeling, hands flying up to grasp his shoulders.

“Is- Is this okay?” Yuji questioned, uncertainty breaking through his voice that had suddenly lowered darkly with the lust that flooded him. Too flustered to even form a coherent answer, you leaned forward to kiss him once again. Moaning softly against you, the hand he had pressed against your back pulled you forward, encouraging you to grind against his tense muscle. A string of desperate whines slipped past your lips as he moved you against him.

Your boyfriend continued to push and pull at your waist until you found a rhythm of your own. Abandoning your supple skin, he reached down to palm himself through his shorts. The strain against the fabric was almost unbearable at this point, and your desperate little ruts against him were only spurring him on. Leaning back on his free hand, he watched you work yourself against him as he stroked his covered length.

You looked down at how his bicep flexed with each stroke. Reaching forward in a haze, you slipped your hand under his. A gasp choked its way up Yuji’s throat at the feeling of your comparably smaller hands clutching at him. You mimicked his movements with fervor, the heat in your core burning as you watched him throw his head back with a groan.

“Does that feel good?” You questioned hesitantly, breath picking up a bit as you felt the wet patch that began to form over the fabric of his shorts.

“Yes!” He gasped eagerly, grabbing your wrist to speed up your movements a bit. “Oh fuck.”

Your wide eyes stared at him in awe. His bare, muscled chest heaved before you. An inescapable urge had you leaning forward to bite into the firm flesh, a motion that had him jerking up into your hand. Noted.

“Babe, hold on. I’m—” he choked up when you began softly laying open mouthed kisses on the area you’d attacked with your canines. “Shit, I’m gonna cum, wait—”

He didn’t get to finish his sentence. You looked down at where your hand was languidly stroking up and down his twitching member, noticing with parted lips how his pink tip was now poking out from his waistband. It glistened as the sun shining through the window hit its dripping surface. Without much thought to it, your thumb reached up to swipe at the weeping slit.

“Fuck, oh my god—” This time, he cut himself off with his own strangled moan. His fingers pressed into your hips and wrist with a bruising pressure, as if you might disappear mid-high and leave him gasping and crying to be graced by your touch again. His chest and neck flushed red as you felt his release spill over your hands and coat his abs that flexed in tandem with his unconscious thrusts.

You suddenly wished you had left your phone in your pocket instead of your bag so you could snap a picture of the way he looked at the moment. His chest heaved as he came down from his high, and he looked back down at you in a panic, cheeks ablaze.

“Shit— I’m so sorry!” Yuji began babbling mindlessly, staring anxiously down at the mess he’d made of himself and your hand. Embarrassed wasn’t a strong enough term. “You didn’t even finish— fuck, this is—”

“Yuji, it’s okay—”

“No, I just came in my fucking shorts. I wanted to…” his words drifted, and he held your cheek with his clean hand. “I wanted to have sex with you.”

A warm smile settled over your lips. Leaning into his hand, you pressed a kiss to his palm. “We can take our time, remember?”

He huffed quietly, looking up apprehensively at you from his lashes. The boy’s blown out, brown eyes took in the sight of your flushed cheeks and disheveled hair, the way your breasts were rising and falling deeply against your chest. A mischievous smile fell over his once embarrassed face.

That’s how you found yourself on your back and on the edge of his creaking bed, legs swung over his shoulders and thighs pressed against his ears as he tried his hand— well his tongue— at a new skill. Your brows furrowed in concentration, trying to determine if it felt good or just kind of awkward. A small hum left you as you squirmed against him at the foreign sensation. Suddenly, his pink head was poking up from its spot between your legs to look up at you with those ‘Yuji-Special’ puppy dog eyes.

“I suck, don’t I?”

You quickly sat up on your elbows to meet his frantic gaze. His cheeks were burning red, chin covered in slick.

“No!” You insisted, but he wasn’t convinced, dropping his head against your stomach in agony. “Yuji, just… try again. I’ll tell you what feels good, okay?”

Rolling his shoulders back with determination, he went back in. He licked a long, hesitant stripe up your folds. As the tip of his tongue grazed your sensitive bud, you gasped quietly. Still, it was enough to have Yuji’s head perking up like a dog who just heard the rattle of his food bowl.

“Right there?” He questioned, his word mumbled with his tongue still pressed flat against you.

“Y-Yeah--”

Your instruction was cut off with another eager, rough swipe of his tongue against that golden spot he’d found. On instinct, your thighs clamped down against his head as a moan ripped through you. Against you, your boyfriend let out a moan of his own, responding to both the feeling of your warm, plush inner thighs pressing against his cheeks and the sound of your saccharine moan-- one that was solely his doing. It was a dopamine rush similar to that of which he felt on the field when you would watch him oh so encouragingly. It spread through his veins like a fire-- that burning desire for him to just impress his girl.

Like a man starved, Yuji’s tongue attacked your sensitive bundle of nerves with fervor, drool and slick dripping down his chin. You squealed at the sudden change of pace, the pressure of the foreign sensation weighing down on your chest as you writhed underneath him. It was too much- the direct, rough friction lapping so desperately against you that it was almost uncomfortable.

“Slow down!” You gasped out, your arms supporting you as you reeled away from his tongue’s attack. The muscle’s in his shoulders flexed as they wrapped around your thighs to keep you in place. He peered up at you with stars in his wonton eyes, wondering what the hell he could possibly be doing wrong now. “It’s too much, just-- like you’re kissing me, Yuji. S-Slow..” You could feel your cheeks burning at the sound of your own instructions, but the look in his eyes as the top half of his face stared determinedly up at you told you he was taking mental notes.

Humming firmly, his eyes slowly fluttered shut again, and he retracted his tongue from your core to replace it with sloppy, open-mouthed kisses. You sighed contentedly at the feeling, your hand drifting down to thread through his hair. It felt as though he finally understood, and Yuji knew he couldn’t just chase your high without pace, without care. His movements were slow and deliberate now, allowing himself to enjoy it as well instead of being so concerned with pushing you over the edge so quickly.

Your jaw fell slackly open as he slowly reintroduced his tongue into the rauchy kisses he was working against you. The curve of his smile could be felt from your fold as he sensed the trembling of your legs against him.

“Like that, Yuji--” You whined softly, grasping at the roots of his hair to pull his face closer to you. It felt like he was molding to your core, becoming one with you. A tear fell down the side of your face at the intense intimacy of it all, and you were glad he was too occupied to notice. Gently swiping his tongue up from the entrance of your weeping chasm to the hood of your clit as his lips wetly circled the area, you noted that he really was acting as though he was simply making out with a different part of you. “Oh my god!”

You couldn’t see it, too lost in your own pool of pleasure to pay it any mind, but his eyes rolled back at the sound of your breathless whines. When your hips slowly began rocking against his face, he thought he may as well have died right there on the floor of his dingy dorm room.

“Is it good?” He mumbled against you, never once stopping his ministrations on your clit. It was a dumb question-- the boy knew it was good-- what with the way your grip was practically yanking the hair out of his scalp, pushing his face further into you until he was sure he would pass out from lack of oxygen (not that he would mind going out that way). Still, Yuji was desperate to hear you say it, to tell him how good of a job he was doing at pleasuring his girlfriend.

“So good--” You gasped, feeling the tingling in your toes, reaching up your legs and into your core. Your rocking against his face was desperate now, chasing your impending high with a fervor that would have embarrassed you had you even felt remotely conscious enough to notice. Your eager boyfriend was drinking it all in though, fingers coming up to grip at your hips and aid your frenzied thrusts on his face. You were making an absolute mess of his face, but you didn’t care, and lord knows he didn’t either. “You’re so good, Yuji!”

A forlorn whine ripped from his throat at your praise, and the vibrations it sent through your bundled nerves caused the dam to snap within you. Sitting up in a desolate haze, the fingers that had graced the top of his head came down the back of it, gripping the nape of his neck to hold him against you as you cried out his name once again. The heels of your feet dug into his back as you trembled through your high. His soaked lips continued to hungrily lap you up until you were crying out in sensitivity, clamping your thighs closed to stop him.

You were heaving out breaths, hunching over as your nails began softly scraping at the nape of his neck. Yuji’s face slowly came up from its place between your thighs-- a place he noted it should have been all along. Still on his knees, he stared up at you in a drunken daze, the lower half of his face glistening with evidence of your release. His pink hair stood up and stuck out in all directions as he panted up at you.

“Did I do good?”

That mental image was seared into the back of your mind as you tried to go one about the rest of your week. Each time that image flashed in your mind of your big, muscly boyfriend on his knees for you, eyes just pleading to be praised, your thighs would press together almost on instinct. It was that much more difficult to concentrate on any of your classes. You couldn’t confirm if you two’s impromptu intimacy was the reason for the sudden change in Yuji’s behavior, but you had a feeling. While he’d always been a bit clingy, he was now all over you; wrapping an arm around your shoulders to pull you into his side each time you two met up with friends or on campus, dragging your chair closer to his by the foot wherever you went, stopping to plant a kiss on you each time he passed you on his runs. It was evident to everyone around you that something had changed between you two— what with the sudden clinginess and blushing looks from across the room.

As much as the both of you wanted, you didn’t have much of a chance to get eachother alone again though. Yuji’s track team had their annual relay race just around the corner, so he was caught up in practice and meets most of his free time. Still, it was the first big race that you would be attending of his, so you were excited despite the fact that it was taking up most of his time. It was a bit cool outside that morning, so you were bundled up in one of your boyfriend’s university sweatshirts as you made your way out to the crowded field. You could barely hear over the combined chatter of both your university and the competing school’s crowd. Looking around, slightly overwhelmed with the amount of hustle and bustle surrounding you, you nearly jumped out of your skin when hands bared down on your shoulders.

“Where were you! Yuta and Maki have been looking for you.” You relaxed upon hearing the familiar voice of your boyfriend over the crowd. Sighing in relief, you turned around to grasp onto his bicep as if the crowd might scoop you away. He was already beaming down at you, his sweat band pushing his hair away from his forehead. The tip of his nose and the tops of his cheekbones tinted pink with the cold air that nipped at his skin.

“Take me to them! I am so lost.” You pleaded as you dramatically batted your lashes up at him. An easy smile spread across his lips as he wrapped an arm around your neck to guide you through the crowd. “And shouldn’t you be getting ready with the team right now?”

“Had to make sure my girl had a good view first.” Yuji winked down at you upon seeing the bashful tint that spread on your cheeks. He turned you to face him as the two of you came up upon the stands, pointing up to where your friends were standing and waving you over. “Wait!”

You whipped your head back upon hearing him calling out to you from below.

“I don’t get a good luck kiss? No pep talk?”

“I didn’t wanna hold you up.” You laughed, leaning down to press a chaste kiss to his lips from his spot on the ground. He grasped onto your chin to deepen it for a moment before reluctantly letting you go. Slightly breathless, you continued, “Right, pep talk. What do you want if you place, hm? Human Earthworm marathon? Revolving sushi?”

“Just you.”

His sincere words and intense gaze made you falter, remembering the way he looked between your thighs just days ago. Fingers tightening around his shoulders, your eyes ran down his face wantonly.

“Just me, huh?”

“Mmhm,” Yuji hummed, brown eyes soaking in the sight of you in his sweater, standing in the bleachers to cheer him on. “Nothing’ll motivate me more.”

“Better get to steppin’ then, Itadori.”

Yuji was sprinting like a bat out of hell. As he gained on Megumi, you could see him holler at him with his palm outstretched for the baton. His fingers curled around the wooden rod, and he was off. You could swear you saw his teammate’s raven hair fly back from the dust being kicked up by the boy already light years ahead of him.

“Jesus, what crawled up his ass?” Maki remarked in astonishment. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say his feet weren’t even touching the ground. He moved so fluidly, so swiftly, as though he was simply floating across the track. The other runners, you noted, had stern expressions of determination on their faces as they paced themselves through their legs. Your boyfriend though, as you watched him drift across the field, was lit up with pure thrill. It had an ecstatic smile spreading across your own cheeks. Standing up from your seat, you cupped your hands around your mouth to cheer him on. You almost wished you could feel some sort of push and pull, some kind of apprehension about whether or not he would make it, but the truth was, Itadori had already left all the other anchors in the dust. So, really, it was more of a formality when he hopped across the finish line, and the coach ripped the tag off his uniform to declare his team’s time.

Both Yuta and Maki flew up from their seats to clap, but their cheers were drowned out by those of the hollering crowd surrounding you. Your friends’ arms came around you in glee, but your gaze was still focused on Yuji, who’s team was now having their own celebratory rituals. Over the heads and shoulders of his bustling team, his gaze still found yours in the crowd. He raised the wooden baton to point it toward you, and with a wolfish grin, sent a wink your way as if to say this one was for you.

Lord help you when that boy got his hands on you.

masterlist

#jjk fanfic #jjk fic #jjk x reader #jjk #yuji itadori x reader #yuji itadori #yuji imagine #itadori x reader #jjk itadori #itadori x you #itadori fluff #yuji itadori x you #yuji itadori x y/n

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lavendertales · 2 years

Note

I don’t even know but for the love of god PLEASE more age gap/ dads best friend trope with Joel Miller 🥵

I got not one, not two, but THREE requests with age gap reader x Joel Miller, so here we go, this one's for you babes 😌

Not enough || Joel Miller x f!reader**

summary: Joel is not happy when your recklessness nearly puts your lives in danger.

word count: 1.8k

WARNINGS: age gap (Joel is in his 40s, reader is like late 20s), unprotected doggy, cum play, choking, enemies to fwb.

AGELESS/EMPTY BLOGS & MINORS WILL BE BLOCKED!

gif: @azertyrobaz

Oh, he’s pissed. He’s pissed, alright. You can tell in the way he’s pacing around the room, hands on his hips, brows furrowed in sheer anger. Your negligence has been more than an inconvenience today; it could’ve risked a lot of people’s lives, including your own and Joel’s.

And Joel is not a man you wanna fuck around with.

Well. Not technically.

You just so happen to be in the same shift for the night watch, that’s all. And he just so happens to be Tommy’s brother, so you know from a solid source that he’s got a temper. Inexplicably enough, you find yourself gravitating around him quite often, and not just because duty calls. He’s got an attitude too, which makes him annoying more than anything. He makes your blood boil, makes you want to scream at the top of your lungs.

And yet, your eyes search for him in a crowd, eager to spot that bitter face you’ve grown to detest.

Usually, your disagreements are easily solved: he grunts, you mumble, both of you cuss out loud, maybe yell a little, and call it a truce. In many ways, he doesn’t think of you as equal, you believe; why should he? He’s a skilled hunter, gunsman, and you’re just some gal in her twenties, doing your duty towards Tommy and the people in Jackson.

But today, you’ve really done it. You know it; you just refuse to give Joel the satisfaction of knowing he was right.

He told you to wait for the group to return, then you can go check for clickers. You told him for hours on end that you’ve heard about clickers in the area, and yet Joel refused to believe you. “Till I see it with my own eyes, there ain’t nothing out there,” he said. “No reason to worry everyone”. But the group took too long, and you’ve grown more and more impatient, so you sneaked out the perimeter and went to check for yourself. Surely enough, your instinct and sources have been correct, and there you were, face to face with at least a dozen clickers. Just you and your shotgun against them all.

“Are you really this stupid?”

His question makes your forehead crease with anger as well.

“Well?” he pushes. “Are you?”

“I am far more capable than what you give me credit for.”

Joel snarls, the sound mocking in and of itself, and, weirdly enough or not, you relish into it. There’s something primal behind it, something that suggests care, and that has your undivided attention.

“You could’ve been killed,” he says. “Those fuckers could’ve come in here, have their way with us. All because of you.”

“What the fuck do you want me to say, Joel?! You wanna hear me beg for your forgiveness? Want me to beg, on my knees?”

He gulps. You see it, it’s undeniable. It’s not quite the reaction you had in mind, so it takes you aback for a moment.

Joel inches closer towards you, his face reading the same anger as before, eyes darkened by some emotion you couldn’t name at this very moment.

“Do you?” you boldly repeat.

“You’re on mighty thin ice here,” he warns, voice husky and intense. “Don’t push me.”

“Or what?”

Joel stares at you, half incredulously and half impressed. He’s always been impressed by your candor and your boldness, your uncanny ability to just face danger without a second thought and come to the others’ defense.

But today, less so. The thought of you getting infected, getting hurt in any way… he’d hate you forever if that were the case. He’d hate himself for it, too.

“You don’t know what you’re asking for here,” Joel seems to warn.

But you cock an eyebrow, causing him to gulp again and question his every moral, and every portion of his sanity.

“Give me some credit here, Joel,” you say in a ridiculously sultry voice. “I think I know what I’m looking for. If only you’d stop treating me like some kind of—“

Your words are cut abruptly by the harsh press of his mouth against yours in a surprisingly hot and needy kiss. On the one hand, you’re thankful he acted before he might’ve asked you to beg for it, like you cheekily said. You’re somewhat embarrassed that such a thing was insinuated, let alone acting upon it. The two of you do not get along, after all. He might actually hate you, simple as that.

But this right here, his calloused hands slipping underneath your shirt to feel your skin and his mouth clamping on yours, this is anything but easy. The amber light breaking through the window as the sun is setting allows you a final clear glimpse of what is happening, and your body shivers at the sight: Joel is hastily undressing you first, as if he’s in some sort of race to see you naked before you see him. You realize that yes, you do want to see him, all of him, just the way that he is, and feel him in this inappropriate moment.

It’s obvious it’s been a long time for both of you; all of the sloppy and rushed movements, getting right to it, suggest a desperation that can hardly be verbalized. Your hands drop to the hem of his shirt, tearing off some of the buttons that keep what’s underneath concealed. You take but a rushed moment to admire the scars covering his chest and belly, as well as the chest hair that you��d love nothing more but nuzzle in. nothing but a stolen moment, though. You wouldn’t want to ruin this moment with anything.

Your hands drop to his jeans, removing his belt and watching him shimmy his way out of them. Your eyes widen in surprise when you brush against him, feeling him rock hard in his boxers.

“Turn around,” he commands, and you obey.

You find yourself bent over the couch in his living room, a strong hand keeping you in place. Anticipation is killing you, the perverted thoughts soaking your mind and pussy alike. it’s ridiculous, really; how the fuck are you soaked when all you’ve done so far is argue with him? Him, Joel Miller, of all people. It feels wrong and forbidden in some way, but at the same time, it feels exactly right. Like this is what you’ve been missing all this time. Him, his arms, his eyes and mouth devouring you alike, and his cock slipping inside you.

Which is precisely what he does.

You can’t possibly control or prevent the wanton cry that comes out of your mouth when you feel his cock sliding inside of you. He pushes with ease, and in any other case it would’ve been alarming to acknowledge how soaked you are, but now, it feels oddly understandable.

“Fuck, you’re soaked,” you hear him grunt. “Have you been wanting me to fuck you like this for too long, sweetheart?”

Motherf—

Again you moan when he pushes so far deep inside you, you think you’re gonna black out.

“Answer me,” he grunts.

“Screw you, Miller,” you smile.

He chuckles, because of course he does. “Isn’t it the other way around now?”

He grabs a handful of your ass, squeezing it as hard as he can, and he drags his cock all the way out just to push back inside, burying himself in you to the hilt. Then, he just starts slamming his hips into yours, deeming that he’d given you enough time to adjust and all that. After all, this is rushed, needy, and far too agonizing to prolong. It doesn’t mean anything. Why should it?

Fuck, you wanna see him right now. You wanna see the crease on his forehead that betrays his intense concentration, the way a few locks of hair fall down and the way he’s working up a sweat just by staring at your ass brushing up against his cock with each additional thrust. All you can do is moan brokenly as your body is being used as leverage for him to propel himself into, but hell, you could not possibly complain.

Neither of you says much except the occasional cuss word or grunt. Those are the only sounds filling the dead air. It’s hard to focus on actually doing what you’re doing and saying something. Maybe you don’t need to; adding words to this already complicated situation would only make it more meaningful when it’s just about blowing off some steam.

Although you cannot ignore the waves of pleasure that rip through you when Joel’s hand curls around you from the very same position he’s fucking you. A cry leaves your throat, currently held by one of his calloused hands, and Joel smiles in some delirious ecstasy.

“That’s right,” he teases, almost breathless. “This is all you needed—isn’t it?”

If you couldn’t speak before, you certainly can’t now. Joel doesn’t tell you how good it feels to feel you this way. He doesn’t tell you how feral it makes him to have your body at his will, to fuck you this hard and fast from behind like you’re running out of time.

Maybe you are, maybe you aren’t. All he knows is that the buildup in his belly is gonna erupt soon, but he needs to feel you first.

“C’mon, sweetheart,” he says, leaning over and squeezing your throat just a little more. “Make it a good one for me, hm? How ‘bout that?”

It’s like he presses an automatic switch as he says that; within the next few seconds, you clamp down all around him, your body seizing up and soaking his cock with your juices as you reach the throes of ecstasy.

“J-Joel—“you finally manage to get out.

He fucks you through your climax, only to pull out as abruptly as he entered you, stroking himself to completion right on your ass. Breathless, he can only stare at the hot, messy canvas he’d painted on your body. The image triggers something inside of him, something deep and primal, urging him for more.

But he can’t. He shouldn’t. There are about a dozen reasons why he shouldn’t, and yet, he just did.

A final smack over your ass lets you know that the exchange of bodily fluids and pleasure has come to an end. When your eyes lock, he doesn’t say a word to you, and neither do you. Instead, he grabs a towel to clean you gently with, a stark contrast between the feral man from mere moments ago and the current one.

“Don’t make me care about you,” he warns.

“Wasn’t planning on it,” you say, highly doubting that sentence.

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us fic #the last of us smut #tlou fanfiction #tlou fic #tlou smut #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal smut

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phasecornnuts · 6 months

Note

I would love to power bottom Valentino from hazbin hotel ples 😏 also I LOVE angst so maybe a bit of that 😌 head cannons or a fic doesn’t matter I love words

Hello again whores! This is over 16k words…. I think I may have a problem, but I cooked so whatever

Tbh I may open writing commissions bc I love y’all but if I’m writing biblical epics I lowkey would appreciate being paid (college is expensive) 😭

CW: For general angst and Drug use

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You hated working nights, but working for Val always meant you worked nights. If someone were to ask you to write a list of everything you disliked about the club, you’d swear the exterminators would be here by the time you were done with it. But alas, it was what it was and there was nothing you could do to change it. That fucking contract made sure of that.

There were a few things that could make your shift bearable though. You liked Angel, even though he didn’t really come by anymore because of that stupid hotel, you liked the free drinks, even though Val made sure they were watered down after you vomited on a customer, and you liked the pills Val would give you, even though they made you feel loopy when you preformed. Those were the shit. Grade A. Top tier. Happiness in a tablet the size of your fingernail.

In your dressing room you watched the clock, five minutes. God, you were already sweating in the shitty outfit Val made you wear for tonight. A frilly maid outfit with black lingerie underneath, the man wanted a strip-tease and he was gonna have it one way or another. With Angel gone, you were the only other person he thought was worth headlining. That felt good to hear, even if you were only second choice. Maybe Angel being gone was a good thing, not for him but for you, maybe Val would see that you’re better than him, that you tried more. Maybe then you could be the star, and not just the understudy. Maybe, maybe, maybe; The word’s rhythm wavered in your head.

Hoping for Val to want you was fruitless though, you knew. Angel was the golden goose- or spider, you supposed - and it would take an act of god for someone to eclipse him. You took your eyes off the clock, knowing getting lost in your thoughts would just lead to a spiral of self-loathing. You closed your eyes and released a heavy sigh. On your table, beside your makeup and phone stood a fluorescent orange bottle. Unscrewing the cap you let loose three in your palm before capping the bottle. You ran the pad of your thumb over the tiny white buttons, smooth and chalky, before placing them in a row on your tongue, all washed down with watery gin. A twisted communion.

You lean back in your chair, wondering when the pills are gonna kick in. About two minutes pass before you hear the door to your dressing room open and a tired waitress with smudgy blue eyeliner and a crooked wig tilts her head towards the hallway to tell you it’s time for you to get on stage. Walking past her, you can smell a heavy peach scented perfume she used to try to cover the smell of sweat. Your heels clacked on the tile floor as you walked up to the entrance of the stage. You scratched your back from the itchy fabric of the costume, then adjusted the tops of your stockings. The song that’s currently playing ends and the performer before you walks to the back, they’re huffing and tired. They stretch and pop their back before looking at you, mouthing “Good luck.” The DJ of the club took a beat before announcing you to the crowd. Rolling your shoulders, you walked on stage feeling the hot spotlights shine on you.

That’s when it hits.

All of the tension you held in your body lifted, and your mind began to swim as you felt the Oxy kick in. Fuck, they really were the best. They made you feel warm and floaty, made the world seem bearable. You swung your hips seductively as you sauntered to the pole, ready to begin your act. Looking around, all the faces of the crowd blended together. It felt like the world was painted in watercolor, all of its harsh edges gone, replaced with washes that drifted out into nothing.

A chemical confidence kicked in then. Those languid movements of yours had everyone entranced, grinding your sex to the pole as you teased eager watchers with a peek up your skirt. Over the music you could hear their hoots and wolf-whistles, then frenzy when you began to shimmy off your top, exposing that black bra you had on under. You throw it out into the crowd, grateful not to have that polyester piece of shit on you anymore. The way they all clamor to catch it made you bite your bottom lip with a smirk. They were all so pathetic.

You spun on the ball of your foot, but the weightlessness of your opioid addled body worked against you, making you fall. Luckily you caught yourself on your hands, pretending it was some sultry move like a lady in a porno. The crawling was good though, you pretended to fuck the stage before you got to the center. You leaned back on your hands, stretching out a heeled foot that they all begged to touch. One almost did, before you snatched it away.

Slipping off that ugly skirt and kicking it off into the drunken crowd felt so good. They were transfixed, enthralled, however you wanted to put it. Your high made everything better, blanketing your body in comfort- That was always the peak. Savoring those small moments that made them scream. Looping and spinning and sliding and going upside down, stretching your legs out spread-eagle. When you felt the room start to spiral you stopped with your back to it for support. With a fake sexiness you slid your hand down your stomach, into those thin painties before taking it out.

God, it felt good to be desired even if it was like this. Sure, Val didn’t want you, but they did. All those sinners and hell-born who clamored to touch you and have you touch them. How they fought over an ugly, scratchy top because you wore it.

Turning your head you saw a wide-eyed patron ignoring a half-drank glass. You smirk and crawl towards them, and their eyes turn to the size of saucers. Reaching the edge of the stage you lean over, hanging over their small table. You opened your mouth wide enough to kiss- But you didn’t. You let your tongue hang out of your mouth, letting a fat drop of spit land in their drink. That was all they could have of you; You smile and go back to the stage to continue your act.

You don’t know how long he’d been standing there when you saw him. Valentino. He nips at his cigarette while he looks at you, not knowing what he’s thinking. Your moves become bigger, looser, hoping to impress him. A glob of phlegm sits at the back of your mouth and you swallow, feeling the tenseness grow inside your body. I can be good too, see! I’m as good as Angel! Even better! Please…please don’t fire me.

He walks closer to the stage as you keep grinding on the pole. Your eyes meet for a second before you look away, unsure. When he reaches the edge of the stage is when you slam yourself to the floor- the crowd hollered. Val adjusts his glasses and takes a long, long drag from his cigarette. Your body cranes towards him, head lowered in reverence while you studied his face. Val was always so hard to read, that’s the thing you hated most about him - well, at least one of them- was he displeased, impressed, disinterested? Fuck if you knew.

With one hand he pinched your face, between his pointer and thumb. He pressed his mouth to yours, filling it with all of that warm smoke. The roof of your mouth hurt so much, but the rest of your body trembled. He’d never been this open, kissing you, watching you dance, it felt so, so good to have his attention. Val pulled away, pink cloud leaving your parted lips.

Valentino leaned in, “Meet me in the back.”

“I still have five minutes left…”

“I’m your boss.” There was a vague sternness to his words, what were five minutes compared to his regard?

You breathed heavily. “Gimme a second.”

Quickly as you could you got off stage. Your head was spinning and you couldn’t tell why- was it the Oxy? The drink? The dancing? The cigarette? All of them combined. The backstage was full of cold air, making goosebumps prickle over your legs. You crossed your forearms and leaned them on the wall. Eyes closed, you counted backwards from 100; 100, 99, 98, 97- Val with his cigarette showed up in your mind, how he pulled your mouth to his, how you shivered, how you liked it. You tried again, but he kept lingering. Another restart, going a bit longer this time, but you gave up somewhere around 56.

Through the backstage hallway you walked to the back, The Velvet Rooms. Those fancy, gilded places hidden away that only those Val liked - or who could afford it- could enter. Valentino hid himself away in the biggest one, a room within the wall closed off with heavy dark blue curtains. The Velvet Rooms were where Overlords and certain Goetia came to be spat on, spanked, and other “peculiar wants” that Val catered to.

Opening the curtains you were struck with the heavy scent of his smoke. You closed them shut, the room illuminated by a faint pink light. Val sat on the couch, legs spread wide and arms slung over the top, his heavy coat thrown to some unknown corner. Seeing him reminded you of how little clothes you had on. Val’s second set of arms beckoned you over, you obeyed. He rested them on your waist, idly feeling the texture of your garter belt.

“Good of you to come carino,” He kissed your stomach, tittering at the way you quivered. “You did so good I had to meet with you privately.”

“How could I deny you Valcito?” You responded in a honeyed tone that made him chuckle.

“Valcito?” He smirked.

“Aren’t you?” You tilt his head up to see your smiling face, dressed with sultry bedroom eyes, “My little Valcito who liked my dancing.”

Val showed off that gold tooth of his; He kissed your stomach again, leaving a little red mark.

You dropped your hands to his arms, sliding up to his biceps. You bit your lip, so hard and toned. For so long you were curious about Val’s body, his sex, his libido. You wondered what he did to Angel to make him so sore and his voice so hoarse. It was embarrassing how many nights you spent thinking about what he tasted like- though now there was no point, you knew now, cigarettes and citrus vodka.

The tips of his fingers traced along your hips, fingering the thin strap of your panties. Your voice grew weak as he nipped again and again at the soft flesh of your stomach. Mind in a daze, words slipped out of your mouth.

“You know, I’m surprised you called me back here…” A kitten-lick across your navel that made you squirm.

“Why’s that Carino? Don’t think you’re pretty enough?” His voice teased.

“I thought you didn’t like women”

“Why would you think that?” He looped his finger around the hip strap again

“Angel.” He snickered.

“Oh Carino, don’t worry. Angel is just the soup D’Jour,” His finger dipped forward along your hip bone, “Men, women; Women, men; all of those sweet things in-between, how could you pick just one?”

“How poignant.” You said with a bit of a flat affect. His waxing-poetic seemed so unimpressive to you. Though, you felt a stab of guilt for thinking so.

“You, Sugar, I just can’t deny,” Val moved his hands up along your torso, stopping just underneath your breasts, “Good tits, nice stomach, pretty face,” his attention went back to your panties, “You coulda been on the cover of Hustler. Hhhnn, maybe I’ll make you the centerfold this month…”

You leaned over him, pressing your face to his. Fuck, his tongue felt so good in your mouth, making your stomach start to knot and squirm. He took your bottom lip between his teeth, making you whine before you pulled away. Placing tiny nips on his neck, you felt the heat in your stomach grow hotter and hotter and turn to slick. You wanted to touch him, feel him, consume him, and be consumed.

Val pulled away for a second, but it felt like forever. He reached into a shallow pocket and produced a button of something. It was a tiny tablet, waxy and fat, and pinched between his two fingers. You wondered what it was, it didn’t look like Oxy. You hoped it was something stronger, desiring the out of body experience you’d been losing since you started to grow tolerant of the opiate.

“You ever play a game of rolling roulette Sugar?” Val asked, you shook your head no.

“You trade the X tongue to tongue, and whoever’s it dissolves on is the lucky winner.” Oh so it was Ecstasy, now that’s good shit.

Val pulled you onto his lap, cupping a breast, “C’mon Baby, let’s go on a trip together…”

That’s all it took.

The tiny pill teetered between both of your tongues as you kissed, growing smaller and smaller and smaller. Val’s spit was thick and sweet and wonderful, something about it making your body go alight with electricity. The X melted so easy, like blue cotton candy; You could feel the serotonin swell in your brain like a party balloon.

When the first roll happened you moaned into Val’s mouth. All of your nerves were standing on edge, shivering with anticipation. He removed your bra, placing a nipple in his mouth as you felt his cock grow harder. It felt so much better than your other highs. The Oxy only ever calmed things, washed them out. The X was so different, so so much better. Everything seemed to shimmer, like the whole world was wrapped in cellophane. How could you think the absence of feeling was so wonderful when this existed?

Your mind was in a twinkly daze when you started to undress him. He kissed and licked at your neck while you felt your way through unbuttoning his top. Fuck, his skin was so smooth and warm; He pressed you closer, teeth bit into your collar bone before dragging his tongue over the marks he left.

You kissed your way down Val’s body. At his chest you lingered, leaving tiny red marks on the trail to his V-line. Valentino’s head lolled back on the couch as you unzipped his cock with all of its dark hair. You put it in your hand, running your thumb over the leaking tip. He swore under his breath as you pumped him slowly, up and down up and down.

The warmth of your tongue dragged along his thick shaft. Your stomach gets a sharp squirm to it, same as your cunt. It’s hard to tell because of the drugs or how sexy Val looks with his legs wide open and his cock needy for your touch. Looking up at him, you’ve never wanted anything more in your life.

His breath hitched when you took him in your mouth. Your tongue twists and swirls around his cock, savoring the feeling of him hitting the back of your throat, making you gag. To try to calm that darling pain between your legs you rubbed your thighs together, but that didn’t help. All it served to do was make your cunt needier. You push his member deeper and deeper into your mouth; You moan into his sex, making him squeeze the palmful of hair he had in his hand tighter.

“You’re so good, Carino.” He says, breathless. You start to suck him faster, blowing and kissing and licking. Val kept sprinkling compliments throughout. It felt so good to be praised by him; All of those sweet things he’d save for everyone else, but never you. You’re so good, you’re so sexy, you take me so well, you’re so pretty, you make me so hard.

“‘M close.” He grabs your hair again, pulling your face in. Feeling devious, you pulled away, savoring the flustered look on his face. Val is huffing, fucked out, and dazed out of his goddamn mind on X.

“You can stand to wait a little longer Valcito~” You nip at the inside of one of his thighs, making his voice hitch into a falsetto. You dragged the tips of your fingers up to his sensitive stomach, mouth leaving a hard bite outline near his ribs. Tracing him was so wonderful, feeling all of those hard edges give into softness. Nursing on his neck, your thumb and forefinger followed his neck muscle and collarbone, dipping into their crevices.

“Valcito~” Your breath was hot against his neck. He mumbled something under his breath and tried to slip his hand into your panties. You caught his wrist and pushed it away, biting hard on his collarbone. You can wait.

Again your mouth found its way south, the want in your cunt becoming more and more painful. You took him in your mouth again, your saliva getting thick and syrupy. Val seized the opportunity and shoved your head down on his cock, chasing the release you denied him. Your teeth grazed his member before pulling away again. Val whined, his eyes pleading. A dark smile grew on your face before you took him again.

He let out a sharp breath and pressed his hands onto your scalp. You went faster, letting the flat of your tongue trace the vein on the underside of his cock. It was fun playing with him like this, having a little control with him for once. Val’s hands tensed in your hair when he warned you he was going to cum.

When he came he wailed, filling your mouth with his salty taste. Looking up at him, you opened your mouth. Val’s thumb traced your bottom lip, admiring his work.

“You look so good like this, Carino.” He huffed.

Pushing yourself from your knees you kissed Val, his seed still in your mouth. That’s all that took to make him go feral. He pulled you to his lap and laid you down, wrapping your legs around him. Without taking his mouth off yours he took his top off, ramming into your needy sex.

Fuck, Val was bigger than you thought he was. His pace was hard and fast, making you scratch your nails into his back. Your kiss tasted like everything good in the world- cum and grapefruit and cigarettes and cotton candy and euphoria. Both of you swallowed, pulling your faces away to catch your breaths. God, you were so wet, Val’s cock slipped in and out of you so easily and it felt so goddamn good. Better than any finger or cock or toy and it made you squeeze him tighter.

You pressed your forehead to his neck, mumbling nonsense. “I’m yours, I’m yours, I’m yours, I’m yours, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me.” Val spat on his fingers and slipped his hands between the two of you. You didn’t know what he was going to do until you felt his wet fingers graze your clit. He got rougher with it once he found it, making you squeal and cum on him.

That didn’t stop Val though, and god did it feel good. He kept fucking you through your release, making you cum another two times. Your legs felt like jelly, body weak and weightless. The X was releasing its last wave of chemical joy as he fucked you, pleasure rippling inside of you. He came inside you, making you sob into his neck. Val pressed you closer to him, whispering in your ear as you felt your release drip out of your cunt.

“You’re so good baby, so good and pretty.” Pleasepleasepleaseplease, say the magic words.

“I love you, you’re my perfect girl, my pretty baby.” You came again.

His thrusts got sloppier and you could tell he was gonna cum again. “Please, please, please, let me be your favorite, I’ll be good, I’ll be good, I’ll be good.” You whimpered.

The anticipation of an orgasm built up, shivering and needy. Val grazed your face and kissed you, “Oh you’re my favorite, baby. My little sullen girl~” He held you closer, savoring the way you squirmed when you came together.

When he was done he stayed inside you. Val pressed his head on the couch beneath you. You traced the scratches you left on his back, feeling your high from the X begin to ebb. Your breath felt so heavy and your mind so fuzzy. That all didn’t matter though, Val wanted you now. He’d been inside you, kissed you, felt you, squeezed you, and couldn’t get enough. He wanted you. So what if it was only for the moment, so what if this meant you could disappoint him, so what if you’re only a place-holder until someone better comes. You’re the favorite.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel fanfiction #fanfiction requests #valentino #hazbin hotel valentino #valentino x reader #valentino x you #hazbin hotel imagine #the vees

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toournextadventure · 2 years

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Not sure if you're accepting requests but... I was thinking about Wednesday x gn!reader who asks her to the Rave'N dance then she's surprised cause reader matches her outfit and doesn't wear the correct theme of the dance. For the first time Wednesday is genuinely astonished and likes reader even more when they're covered in blood (red paint lol) 🤭

You know the vibe, our girl has a VERY specific taste in partners 😌

we match

Dances were pointless. School dances were even more pointless; they were truly nothing more than an excuse to put a bunch of teenagers into one room and put the social hierarchy on full display. Wednesday could admire the sadomasochism of it all, but that did not mean she wanted to attend. She was not her mother, she was not her father, and she did not care about the Rave’N.

She only agreed to go with you because she felt sorry for you, that was all.

“You look stunning!” Enid practically screamed in the most shrill voice Wednesday had ever heard.

“I look ridiculous,” Wednesday commented, although she would silently admit she did like the dress.

“It’s not the theme, but it suits you,” Enid continued more seriously with a small nod. “When is your date getting here?”

“Not a date,” Wednesday said, “but they should be here soon.”

As if she had summoned you herself, there was a knock on the door. Enid was on the verge of running to the door when Wednesday gave her a glare that had her shaking in her obnoxiously loud white boots. Wednesday herself walked to the door and opened it, fully prepared to ask if you were ready to torture her with this stupid dance and-

-and your outfit was black. You matched her dress.

“You look stunning,” you said with a small smile. It was nauseating. She wanted you to do it again.

“That’s what I said,” Enid chimed in; she ignored the look Wednesday sent her this time. “And you both match!”

“Well yeah, she’s my date,” you said with a shrug. Wednesday glared at your word usage. “But speaking of matching…” you pulled your hands from behind your back and held up two black rose corsages. “Now we can pull up in style.”

“Oh my god, that’s so cute!” Enid cheered.

But Wednesday wasn’t listening to her. No, she was focused on your hands, and the way your fingers brushed against her skin as you slid the corsage over her wrist. The way you just yanked yours over your own wrist without the same tenderness. Or your tongue poking out just past your lips as you readjusted your outfit, smiling once it was the way you wanted it.

“You ready to go?” You asked, holding your arm out for Wednesday to take.

She didn’t say anything, just slipped her arm through yours and let you lead the way. You walked tall with your head held high; unusual for you. Yet as soon as you were with her you were a new person. Heads turned as you both stepped into the dance, but you just looked down at Wednesday.

“Everyone is staring,” you said just loud enough for her to hear. “How about we give them something to talk about?”

You held your hand out for her to take, and Wednesday hesitated for only a moment before taking it; it was warm and soft. The way you moved was like a spectral ghost, feet barely touching the floor, movements so smooth it was mesmerising. But what Wednesday was still so focused on was your outfit.

What had possessed you to wear black? It wasn’t your typical colour palette; you wore it, but not religiously. Yet today, the day of all days, you wore all black. You knew the theme of the Rave’N this year was white, and you loved white. Had you truly done all of this for her?

If so, it was foolish. No one should abandon their interests or desires for someone else. That led to weakness, and weakness could be exploited. By doing this in front of everyone, you were admitting that she was your weakness. Someone was going to use it against you, or worse, try to use it against her to get something. Not only were you admitting your own fallacy, you were setting her up for exploitation.

And yet, Wednesday had to admire you. She wanted to admire you. You had accepted your feelings, had accepted the possible looks and words thrown at you, and you had done it anyway. For some unknown reason, you had gone out of your way to wear something black, something that matched her dress perfectly, and you were doing it with a smile on your face.

No. No, she didn’t like you. At least not aloud.

You ended the dance with a dip, holding her suspended in air with a smile on your lips. She still liked it. But your smile morphed into a slight frown, your face displaying confusion. What were you looking at? Wednesday was about to open her mouth to ask when she noticed a new red spot on your nose. Then on your cheek, where it dripped down.

Those few drops were the opening of a floodgate, and the sprinklers went off. You pulled her back up to her feet, holding her close and doing your best to shield her from the bloody rain. She didn’t mind, and you didn’t seem too concerned, but you tried. And they say chivalry is dead, Wednesday thought as your face became coated in the thick red liquid.

It really brought out the colour of your eyes and looked fabulous in contrast to your outfit.

“You look stunning,” Wednesday said aloud, mirroring what you had told her earlier.

You lowered your head to look at her and slowly, almost sadistically, your smile grew. The blood accentuated your smile.

Wednesday loved it.

#requests #wednesday addams x reader #wednesday x reader #wednesday addams

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bbyhellfire · 5 months

Text

our phantom of forever

➠ summary: eddie is resurrected by vecna, only to realize you don't exist in the upside down.

➠ pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader (she/her pronouns)

➠ word count: 1.3k words

➠ warnings: angst city, death, resurrection, allusions to suicidal thoughts (eddie wishing for death), swearing, reader moved to hawkins with her parents, vecna being vecna.

➠ a/n: pushing the 'eddie is alive' agenda 😌 i have a couple ideas about eddie making a deal with vecna that i'm debating turning into a series or just standalone one shots, so let me know what you think! and let's continue to live in delulu

It was stupid, running away from Vecna in the Upside Down. It wasn't like he controlled it or anything. But Eddie Munson isn't exactly known for his smart decisions.

He makes a mad dash from the Creel House the first chance he gets. He's alive, resurrected by the very monster responsible for his death. Eddie should be relieved that he can feel his heart beating as he runs through the decrepit streets of Hawkins. The never ending fog blurs his vision, not that it matters. Upside Down or not, he knows where he is going. No alternate dimension can change that.

All Eddie wants is you. He wants to curl his wrecked body around yours and cry into your neck as you tell him everything will be okay. He knows it won't happen, Vecna won't be so quick to let his new plaything go. But the hope is still there, and it's enough to take him across town towards the direction of your home.

If he can't physically be with you, then at least he can be surrounded by you. A piss poor replacement, but he'll take what he can get.

The ash-like spores make his lungs burn with every jagged breath. His body, still weak from his death, begs for him to stop, but he is already here. The navy blue paint is chipped and vines have broken through the front windows, but it's still your home. The world around him blurs into a watercolor of black and blue as he rushes through your front door and up the stairs to your bedroom.

Maybe you'll be waiting for him. You'll greet him with open arms and a teary smile and –

Nothing.

You're not there. In fact, none of your belongings are there. Not your bed, not your desk, your posters, your clothes. The room is empty.

What the hell?

He moves towards your bathroom. The counter should be covered in your toiletries. The doodles he'd given to you should be taped up along the mirror.

An owl with "You're owl I need" written on the bottom.

A mug with "I love you a latte" etched in the front.

Another of a cat holding a sign that says, "I've got felines for you."

The bathroom is as empty as your room. The only things waiting for him are those fucking vines, slithering out of the bathroom sink like a bouquet of snakes.

No, no, no.

Vecna controls this universe, right? So it's not completely unreasonable that he could make you disappear. Right? That has to be it. This is just Vecna. It's all Vecna.

"Do you really think so little of me? After I saved your life? Think, boy."

Eddie's head shoots up to the mirror, expecting to see the monster standing behind him like this is some sort of horror movie, but he's alone. Of course Vecna has an omnipresent voice that echoes throughout. Of course he fucking does.

He's never gonna beat the God complex allegations, Eddie thinks as the vines in the sink start to move. A little nudge of encouragement so to speak.

He bolts out of your room and down the hallway to your parent's bedroom.

Empty.

He tries the linen closet.

Nothing.

He practically tumbles down to the first level. Your living room, dining room, kitchen, even the garage. Everything is devoid of you and anything connected to you.

Dread is settles in the pit of his stomach. He is running out of places to check. All he thinks to do is scream. And he does. He wails and wails until his vocal cords hemorrhage. The dull taste of blood in the back of his throat makes him add obscenities to his screams. Maybe it'd be enough to echo through the other side. Hell, he'd take your parents materializing to scold him. He'd take anything as long as it means you're there. But nothing ever comes. It's just him and his pain.

It's like you never existed.

Only when he's back in your bedroom, standing in the exact spot where your bed should be, does he remember Nancy's diary. Ice cold realization turns his organs into stone.

He tries not whimper, "She isn't here, is she?"

"No, she's not, but you already knew that." With every word, the fog thickens into a violent red until the monster responsible for all of this appears in front of him. Eddie shakes his head in furious denial as the date in Nancy's diary taunts him.

November 6, 1983.

It's like you don't exist in the Upside Down because of you don't exist. Your family wouldn't move to Hawkins until the following month. It wouldn't be until the start of the spring semester when you and Eddie would properly meet, paired up for a science project. By February, he'd build up the courage to ask you on a date. His adoration for you would bloom with the spring flowers. He would be head over heels in love with you by the fall.

But with the Upside Down frozen at a point in time where he didn't even know your name, you won't be here. There will be no record of you, no liferaft to cling to as his humanity is thrown into freefall.

"No, it's not fair! This isn't fucking fair!"

"The human existence is anything but fair. Your life was an excellent example of that."

Eddie knows that very well, but he doesn't need this walking smear stain reminding him like he's a toddler. He remembers every taunt, shove, and outrage that formed his life. They were his to experience, not anyone else's. They were his life no matter how unfair it may have been. Vecna didn't get to use them against him.

Now, he is angry. He lunges toward the monster, but vines shoot out to wrap around his waist before he can reach Vecna. They throw him back violently, wrapping around his middle and neck to keep him flush against the wall. The tendril around his waist tightens until he stops moving, his arms pinned to his side. Another vine slithers around his neck, squeezing until he has no choice but to look up at the monster of the Upside Down.

"So ungrateful even after I gifted you the chance of another life. Do you understand I can take that away from you? And then how would you see her again?"

Eddie grimaces, scrunching his nose and glaring with all the resentment building inside. He knows where this is going, the manipulation so obvious it's insulting.

The weight of his situation presses down on him harder than the vines bundling his body. He finally cries. Fat, angry tears run down his dirty cheeks as he glares at Vecna. Eddie hopes he looks as pathetic as he feels. Maybe Vecna will be disgusted and realize he made a mistake resurrecting him. He is not a killer, not a hero, not a villain. He is just Eddie.

He wishes for a reinstatement of his death sentence. He'd rather his body be picked apart by demobats than a life shackled by shame and defeat.

"I'm not unreasonable, Eddie," Vecna takes heavy steps towards him. "You can see her again, if it's what you really want. It won't be easy, but it will be worth it. I just need you to do something for me."

The tears keep falling, his vision blurring from the splotches in the shape of you. He thinks of you, the way you smell, the comforting feeling of your hand in his, the sweet nothings you'd whisper when you thought he was asleep. He remembers the nights you'd spend wrapped in his sheets, eyes glassy from all the weed you'd smoke, as you talk about the future.

That is all he will ever have of you – memories. Memories that will fade until only the pain of what could have been remains.

What else is he supposed to do?

"What is it?"

divider by @/silkholland

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x fem reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson #stranger things fanfic #eddie munson angst #bbyhellfire

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scekrex · 6 months

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Hurt/comfort anyone? 😌

We all know Adam's "big and tough" act, how he gloats before anyone that he's the absolute best since he's the og dick and he's the reason the rest of the mankind was created, but what about Adam just being Adam like anytime else, especially the scene in court and Sera just talking his ear off about him acting irresponsibly and just revealing the exterminations to everyone in the worst way possible, just giving him a good ol' talk, but not in a nice way, nope. She crushes his ego in a way before leaving him alone in the room, saying she has stuff to attend and he's just standing there, all deflated and his mask glitching from how many conflicted feelings fly over his face, he's resignated, he's even sad a bit, but also angry. At Sera, at Heaven, God even, but mostly at himself since he knows he fucked up another thing in his life that he was trusted with.

He goes back home to unsuspecting of anything reader and just passes by him, not saying a word, even tho reader tried to greet him and hug him, but was unable to since Adam just brushed past him quickly. There was a heavy air surrounding reader's husband and he grew concerned, so he went to check up on him, seeing Adam just curled up on the bed, wrapped up in his own wings, shielding himself away from the world, not a sound coming out of him, but reader knew something shitty happened and just gets behind him, hugging him tightly and gently petting his wings, not saying a word to let Adam calm down and speak when he's comfortable enough to do so. Adam just smashing himself into reader and asking quietly if he was actually so bad at everything that he didn't deserve anything good in his life, if that was why everyone he cared about before left him and even now no body cares in the slightest bit about his existence. Basically just Adam having an existential crisis and reader being his anchor, trying to tell and show him how it actually is and not what his mind is telling him.

This sad, wet cat bitch needs validation and love like no one before 😞🤘

Muah ❤️

Adam might be an insecure piece of shit underneath all that narcissistic bullshit act of his but he's my insecure piece of shit and I love him.

If I'm so wonderful then why am I so misunderstood

pairing: Adam x male!reader

warnings: language, hurt (with comfort)

note: not beta read bc fuck you I don't have beta readers

“Adam,” the older seraphim raised her voice against the first man loudly, it echoed through her office with much more power than the first man had expected it to, he flinched a little at her tone, his wings dropping to their lowest. “Sera, I-” Adam wanted to explain, wanted to turn it into the stupid joke it had been, but the older seraphim had enough of it. She had enough of Adam, she had enough of his behavior and she was about to let him know. “You’re behavior is no longer accepted by us,” she started what would turn into a monologue, Adam made himself appear a little smaller at her words. “You walk on heaven's holy ground, eat the food our Father provides and whenever someone does not show you respect, your first argument is that you're the first human,” all of the things Sera had listed were true, well they had been the most obvious ones but that didn't make them less true. “And yet you behave like one of them sinners,” that however caught Adam's attention. He was what? How dare she insult him like that, he was very much not acting like a sinner. Or was he?

“You walk heaven's streets with curses on your lips, you dirtied your own purity by sleeping with so many women and men, you behave like a total child and don't know when to stop and where to draw the line and I personally am under the impression that we let your behavior slide for way too long,” she stared Adam in the eyes, giving the first man the most serious look he had ever gotten from the seraphim. The brunette lowered his head in defeat, Sera had often given him shit for being too loud, too much of this, too much of that, she had told him he wasn't behaving like the pure first human should - but it wasn't Adam's fault, not really, because how was he supposed to behave ‘normal’ when God had given him two wives just to take them from him again when he was alive? How was he supposed to fit in and act like everyone else when all that would bring him would be pain?

“Maybe divine judgment failed you. Maybe you should have ended up in hell amongst the other sinners. Father certainly wouldn't have liked it, not after Lucifer's fall, but it would have been the correct decision.” And that made Adam crumble into pieces - at least mentally. Because deep down inside he knew she was right, that no angel other than him dared to stain the name of the Father above, no other angel dared to behave as reckless and merciless as he and his exorcists did. And yes, no other angel than him had slept with so many women and men - a thing he used to be proud of. Before he had met you, before you had become his lover, before he had committed himself to you and only you. Before you, he had been different.

She smoothened out her hair, straightened her back and looked down at Adam, “I have to attend an important meeting. You shall leave and overthink your actions, Adam.” And with that she left him there, leaving him as she had shattered not only his ego but the last piece of confidence he had held inside of him. It took the brunette a while to realize that Sera was not coming back to comfort him, to tell him that she had been too harsh, why should she? She was right after all, Adam was a horrible person, he knew that, had known it ever since.

When the door to your shared apartment opened and Adam walked through it, you were quick to get up and greet him with a warm hug, expecting your boyfriend to be just as excited to see you as you were to see him. But he wasn't, in fact he didn't even look at you as he crossed the living room in order to get to the bedroom, no ‘sup babes’, no ‘Fuck I've missed ya stupid ass' no fucking nothing. The tips of his feathers were dragging on the floor as he walked, a sign that something wasn't right - Adam always made sure that not a single inch of his beloved wings was touching the dirty ground, even in your apartment. The brunette clearly wasn't in the mood to talk, yet you went after him to let him know that he wasn't alone, that you were there no matter what was wrong.

You opened the bedroom door quietly and what you saw shattered your heart. Adam was laying on the bed, his body looked like a ball made out of feathers, he had curled in on himself, his wings shielded him from all of reality, from whatever was hurting him right now. Yet you saw how his body shook, the first man was crying.

Wordlessly you closed the door behind you, trying to do so as quietly as possible. Then you walked over to the bed and cuddled up behind him, one of your hand gently found its way into his hair, petting it just the way you knew he liked it whenever he was feeling upset about something, the other hand of yours smoothened out the feathers covering his wings, gently rubbed the little gap between where the wings grew out of his back - you were very aware how sensitive that area of the angelic body was given that you yourself had experienced it before.

For you it was ridiculously hard to keep quiet, you wanted to talk to him, wanted to ask what was upsetting him so much, why he was crying, what there was for you to do to make it better, but you didn't. You remained quiet, Adam had made it clear that he preferred not talking about it at the moment - or maybe he simply found himself unable to do so, you weren't quite sure which was the case but either way you respected it.

A small smile appeared on your face as the brunette leaned into your touch, he tilted his head backwards, sad, puffy and reddened eyes watched you as you continued to pet his hair without a single comment, if Adam wanted to talk, you would listen. If Adam wanted to stay quiet and enjoy your presence in silence you were fine with that as well. For you it simply was important that the first man knew he wasn't alone. You were there to provide comfort and a safe space he desperately seemed to need.

“Am I as fucking terrible as people tell me I am?” there it was again, his unnecessary cursing, fuck Sera had been right. He rolled himself over, buried his face in your neck and pressed his body against your own. Your body warmth calmed his nerves, made his mind quiet down for even just the tiniest moment, but it did cause it to quiet down. “Is that why I only have Lute and you left? Because I'm fucking terrible? Because I don't deserve damn good things to happen to me?” his voice was really just a whisper yet you understood every word perfectly fine, even if it was mumbled against your skin. Your hands remained on the gap between his wings and in his hair, giving Adam the stability he craved. He needed someone to cling onto, he was too unstable to hold himself together so you did that for him. “No,” your voice was soft and warm, yet serious, it caused Adam to blink in confusion. “I don't deserve you,” was the next thing he said, and that was where you drew the line, you gently tilted his head upwards, then placed a soft, loving kiss onto his lips, “Bullshit Adam, you're wonderful and I love you.” “But I’m not. I curse a-fucking-lot, I can't keep shit together, for fucks sake I can't even do the simple things like telling you I fucking love you every day.” And yes, that was true, but that didn't cause you to love him any less, if anything it was things you loved about him especially. “I don't care about all of that, I still love you.” “Will you leave me too? Like Eve? Like Lilith? Once you finally fucking find someone better?” You shook your head lightly, placed another kiss onto his forehead, your lips kept resting against his skin as you spoke, “No, dummy. To me there's no one better than you are. You're the best for me and you'll always be.” Adam didn't answer you.

He clung onto you even tighter, wrapped his wings around you and held you close. He didn't believe you, simply couldn't, not after what Sera had said. But at the same time the first man trusted you with his existence, so why would you lie to him? His inner conflict was silenced as you pulled him into another gentle kiss. You couldn't help but hum a soothing melody, “You’ve already changed so much, so many things you've done,” you felt as Adam's eyes fell shut and as his body relaxed underneath your touch. “So many songs you've sung, and in the end, they will still hold their grudge,” you felt him nuzzle against your skin, felt how his breath evened out. “There’s something I've been dying to say, more than anything,” you smiled as you sang the last part, feeling Adam's fingers digging in your skin as he tried to pull you even closer - not that it was nearly enough though. “More than anything, need you to know I love you more than anything.” The first man pressed a sloppy, lazy kiss against your jaw before he fell asleep, from his lips fell a quiet, “More than anything.”

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel adam #adam x male reader #male reader #adam x y/n #adam x reader #adam x you

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alaina-starling · 1 year

Text

☁️Cuddles and Kisses☁️

[Lee Minho x Fem!Reader]

summary: reader is on her period, so Minho does the only sensible thing: give her kisses and cuddles (and orders her favorite food but that’s a surprise)

genre: fluff

warning: weird writing, idk i wrote this at 1am. tooth-aching sweet Minho, y/n speaking in another language(?), mentions of cursing god(s) lmao

note: okay so I know he doesn’t understand tagalog, but that diff breed filo skz stan in me kicks in and I have to make you speak tagalog😌💚 (it’s not really a warning but just an additional tag idk why it’s in warning lmao)

Masterlist

“Babe? Can you get me a soda from the fridge, please.” Minho’s shouts are muffled by the thick wooden door of his office but Y/n understood it nonetheless.

She takes small steps, her abdomen aching. She opens the refrigerator door, softly humming a song that pops in her mind. She vaguely remembers a gas station, two annoyed younger siblings in the car, and a steaming engine.

She chuckles, her warm hands touch the cold soda and she shivers. She takes a mental note not to leave her blanket anywhere on days when 40 millimeters of blood is gushing out of her vagina because of her uterus shedding some stupid lining that was prepared for a dumb fetus.

Y/n grumbles when she nears his door, wiping her numbing hand on her shirt then reaching for the door handle when it bursts open and she crashes with an excited Minho.

“Baby- oof!” He squeals, left hand finding her waist while the other grabs the falling soda can that’s about to crash to the floor.

She thanks the gods who gave Minho good reflexes, but curses the one who made him have a habit of not paying attention when opening doors.

“Oh dear, are you okay, hun?” He stabilizes her, his right hand tucking a stray hair that fell to her face. He cups her cheek and she melts to her boyfriend’s touch, leaning in.

He’s soft and passionate with the kiss, despite her neediness. Y/n lets out a whimper, the feeling of a sword stabbing and jabbing right on her abdomen and through her lower back engulfs her senses.

These cramps are messing her up, and yet again she takes a mental note not to miss her monthly chamomile tea before the ‘red’ curse enters (more like violently exits) her body.

“Hah, just peachy.” She huffs out before kissing him again, now biting gently at his lower lip.

“Nngh.” A soft noise slips out of his lips before he can stop it and Y/n stops kissing him, instead staring at him with disbelief etched on her face.

She stifles a laugh, preventing a gush that threatens to stain her pants. “Min?”

He smiles, laughing. This is her first time hearing him being vocal from a kiss, after all that’s always been her job. “Oh come on. You were biting me!” He defends and the look he has is enough to send her to the ground cackling.

“You’re too cute.” She manages to choke out as he pulls her up to carry her, settling her down on the couch. “Mmh, are you spending time with me instead of doing work because of my period situation?”

He nods, rushing to his office, she hears him shuffling around. Probably looking for his phone she thinks, turning her attention to the tv and realizing she doesn’t know where the remote is. “Min.” She calls for him, not wanting to move from her spot on the couch. “Lee Minho, where did you put the tv remote?” She finally shouts, head lifting to go look at what he’s doing in the other room.

He suddenly pops up behind the couch giving her a mini heart attack.

“Oh yeah.” He chuckles apologetically, “I left it in my room, here.” Minho holds her hand in his, giving her the remote.

Y/n smiles, patting the space next to her. Her boyfriend mirrors her, his lips tugging upwards. He lets his bunny slippers fall off his feet as he snuggles beside her, his back on the couch, his chest pressed against her own.

“Good?” He asks, running a hand through her ruffled hair.

“Mmh, as long as you’re here.”

10 minutes later she sees the doorknob of her front door turn, panic digs its claws on her throat and lungs, until she sees Hyunjin by the door. “Uh… Minho hyung, here are the things you asked for.”

[honestly switch to second person pov, im struggling af]

He sheepishly grins, demeanor shy from intruding your cuddle time. “I hope you feel better, Y/n noona.”

After Minho thanks him, Hyunjin bows a few more times before exiting your apartment and locking it with his, seemingly, own set of keys.

“Did you give Hyunjin your keys? Is that why you’re always locked out of your own home?” You tease and he playfully pouts.

“Oh, come on. You know you love helping a damsel in distress.” He jokes, cupping your face and leaving butterfly kisses all over.

You shy away, shifting your attention to the plastic of food Hyunjin brought. “Let’s eat,” you say, eager to taste Hyunjin’s cooking after not having his dishes for a long time.

Your boyfriend nods, standing up to get the plastic, two plates, two pairs of silverware and mugs. “Want the imported tea or the, uh,” he pauses, reading the small writing on the tea bag but not finding the name of the actual tea.

“Chamomile babe, thank you.” You answer, pulling the blanket by your feet over you. “Lamig naman, kakaiyak.” You sigh, complaining about the cold and half expecting him to turn the temperature a bit higher.

“What’s that, baby girl?” He hums from the kitchen, “You know I don’t understand the language, sorry.” He apologizes genuinely, feeling a bit guilty you’re learning korean but he isn’t making an effort to learn your language.

“It’s alright, Min. I’m sorry I didn’t notice, I said I’m cold.” You reply in a nonchalant tone, you don’t care at all, it’s not like he’ll be going to the country, and besides you only learned korean because you were going to the country.

When he finishes fixing you a cup of tea, he brings it to the table in the living room. Setting up everything else for your comfort, and not letting you do anything.

“Alright let’s watch that movie you keep talking about!” He starts excitedly, caressing your cheek before turning to the food and tv.

You relax the rest of the day, receiving absolute princess treatment from Minho. At the end of the day you’ve been pampered with kisses and lulled to sleep with cuddles.

Minho truly is a treasure.

Find all my works under #skzwife-02

#lee minho #leeknow #period #sweet minho #filipina reader #minho loving reader so much he abandons work for her #fluff #skz #fanfic #im on my period will someone please do this for me #straykids #stray kids in your backyard sacrificing a rabbit (leeknow) to make your period go away #cramps #comfort #soft lee minho #skz minho #skzwife-02

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drabbles-mc · 2 years

Text

Better Than Him

Angel Reyes x F!Reader

Summary: When your boyfriend bails last-minute on yet another date night, you call the first person you can think of to commiserate with.

Warnings: 18+, smut, cheating, language, alcohol

Word Count: 6.7k (oops)

A/N: Don't ask me how I ended up writing almost 7k of debauchery and filth for Angel. I don't know. I drank some wine and this happened. I feel like it should go without saying, but I'll still say it: don't cheat on your partners, y'all. It's only okay and sexy for fictional people to do. 😂😌

Angel Reyes Taglist: @buckybarneshairpullingkink @lilacyennefer @bport76 @rosieposie0624 @queenbeered @littlekittymeow @thesandbeneathmytoes @meadowofsinfulthoughts @garbinge @kelpies-shed @beardburnsupersoldiers @louisianalady @gemini0410 @frattsparty @chibsytelford @yourwonkywriter @amorestevens @enjoy-the-destruction @withmyteeth @winchestershiresauce @nessamc @narcolini @mijagif @choochoo284 @fanfic-n-tabulous @artemiseamoon @justazzi (If you want to be added to any of my taglists, please let me know!)

You were laying on your couch in the living room, slouched down so far that you knew it was going to give you neck issues if you stayed in that position for too much longer. Your chin was tucked against your chest by default. The television was playing in the background, the same sitcom on that you’d watched front to back more times than you could count. You weren’t even really listening to it, though. It was just white noise.

Your phone was propped up against your chest, the picture of you and your boyfriend on your home screen doing nothing but mocking you at this point. You exhaled a deep, exasperated sigh as your finger hovered over the Messages app at the bottom of your screen. It was a stupid idea, but you still opened the app. Nothing good was gonna come of it, but you still scrolled down to your text message conversation with Angel.

The last exchange between the two of you had been him inviting you to the clubhouse, and you politely blowing him off because you were going to have date night with your boyfriend. But now your boyfriend was out doing god knows what and you were lying on your couch, all dressed up with no place to go. Your heels mocked you from the floor, same with the hem of your skirt sliding farther up your leg as you crossed and uncrossed them. All the effort and for what?

Despite knowing better, you hit the call button at the top of the screen. You hit speaker on the first ring, not wanting to even put the effort forth at this point to lift and hold the phone to your ear. Sad, sure. Borderline pathetic, maybe. But you weren’t given the time to spiral into your thoughts about it too much.

“You change your mind about the party?” Not even a greeting. Just loud background conversations and Angel getting straight to the point.

“No,” you replied in the loudest mumble you could manage.

“Wait, where are you? Why…why are you calling me?”

“Because I’m bored.”

The noise on the other end of the line decreased drastically, and you could only imagine that it was because Angel stepped outside to finish the phone call. “Thought tonight was date night or whatever?”

“It was.” You hated how bummed you sounded about it.

“Oh, fuck.” He sighed and you could picture the look on his face. “He, god, he fuckin’ bail? Again?”

You groaned. “The again was not needed, Angel.”

“Neither is all his bullshit.” He paused for a beat. “C’mon, dulce, I’ve been tellin’ you for a minute that you don’t need this dude.”

“I don’t wanna hear it,” you argued, but there was no real anger in your voice. Even saying you were annoyed with him was an overreach. You knew he was right.

“What do you wanna hear then, hm?” His voice was right back to its usual slick, flirtatious tone.

You rolled your eyes and tried to ignore how much you enjoyed listening to him talk to you like that. You dragged your hand down your face, knowing that this was your last chance to be smart and get out of the conversation unscathed. But you were sick of being the smart one.

“You wanna come over?”

He laughed. “You want me to leave a party to go come and watch you mope about your shitty boyfriend?”

It got you to smile. “Yea.”

He let out another laugh and you couldn’t help but to picture the way that he was probably shaking his head, looking up at the sky knowing that he was going to say yes but he didn’t want to give you an easy time about it. He never wanted to give you an easy time about anything.

He sucked his teeth. “Fine. Be there in twenty.”

“This is why they call you Angel.”

He chuckled. “Shut up.” He paused. “I’ll see you soon.”

It wasn’t quite enough to pull you up from the inhuman angle you were laying at on the couch, but you did feel a little better knowing that you weren’t going to be spending the whole night by yourself anymore. “See you soon.”

You hadn’t moved a single inch by the time that you heard his motorcycle pulling up outside your apartment. The only thing that had changed was that now your phone was discarded on your coffee table instead of resting against your chest. You turned your head to look at the door but you made no move to get up and greet him.

The door was only halfway open, Angel wasn’t even inside the door yet and you called over, “That took longer than twenty minutes!”

Without missing a beat he pelted a bag of Sour Patch Kids at you, the candy landing just below where your chin was tucked. “Wasn’t gonna try and bring ice cream on the bike. Settled for the next best thing.” He kicked off his boots once he shut and locked your door. “You’re welcome, by the way.”

“Ice cream doesn’t sound terrible,” you said with a chuckle. You lifted one foot and gestured towards your kitchen. “There’s some in the freezer if you want it.”

Angel rolled his eyes as he walked over, standing alongside the couch right next to you. You looked up at him, his presence more towering than usual as your laid down while he stood. He watched as you tore the corner off the package of your candy.

“You’re not even moping right,” he joked as he reached and pushed on your one knee so it knocked into the other. Neither of you made a comment about the face that it made the hem of your skirt slip up a little higher, but you noticed the way his eyes lingered a beat longer. “Supposed to be curled up in sweatpants and shit after a breakup, aren’t you?”

You tilted your head up to look at him more directly, your chin finally lifting off its resting place on your chest. “Breakup?”

“Yea. You,” he paused , brows coming together, “you broke up with him, right?” Your silence spoke volumes and he couldn’t do anything besides huff and roll his eyes at you. “Come on, you’re fuckin’ kidding me, right?”

“What?” You only sounded defensive because you knew that he was probably about to be right with whatever he was going to say.

“How many times does this guy have to blow you off and treat you like shit before you finally kick him to the curb?”

“Don’t be dramatic,” you said with a shake of your head, not able to look him in the eyes as you ate one of the candies and set the package on the table next to your phone.

“Don’t be stupid,” he retorted.

“Angel!”

“What!” He held his hands out like he was begging you to get up and try something. “How else would you describe it? You’ve,” he scoffed, “you’ve called me stupid for way less.”

“Yea, but I never mean it.”

“Because I’m never being this stupid,” he shot back with a smirk.

Despite your frustration, you found yourself biting back a smile as you rolled your eyes at him. You knew he was right. You should’ve left your boyfriend a long time ago. Consistency with something that wasn’t great felt safer than not having any consistency at all, though.

“Since when are you giving out relationship advice?”

He shrugged with a laugh. “I’m not. I’m givin’ out breakup advice. Dump his ass.”

It got both of you to laugh. For a brief moment, it almost looked like Angel was about to say something else. Instead, though, he turned and headed for your kitchen to grab himself a beer, shedding his kutte along the way. You said sure when he asked if you wanted one too. Even with the television on, you could hear the clattering of the bottlecaps on the countertop. When you heard the slight scraping of the bottles being picked up, clinking against the rings on Angel’s fingers, you finally pushed yourself into a more upright position. You were still somewhat slouched back against the arm of the sofa, but you were at least at a more appropriate angle so you wouldn’t get a permanent kink in your neck.

“Here.” Angel faked like he was going to toss the open bottle to you. You knew that he wouldn’t, but you still flinched to reach and grab it just in case. You hated the laugh that it got out of him, but really you loved it. With one hand free, he tapped your knee lightly. “Quit hogging the couch.”

“It’s my couch, you know,” you said as you pulled your legs in a little closer to you, granting him the space to sit.

“Yea, and you invited me over. So now you gotta share.” He plopped down unceremoniously, immediately putting his feet up on your coffee table.

You were both tuned into the show playing on the television for a couple minutes before you asked, “How was the party?”

He looked over at you, eyebrows raised. “Could’ve shown up and found out for yourself.”

“I didn’t wanna see people,” you said before taking a sip of your beer.

“Oh? And what am I, then?’ he asked with a laugh.

“You’re Angel,” you replied with no hesitation.

He rolled his eyes but there was no denying the grin that was creeping across his face. “Shut up. Don’t gotta sweet-talk me. I’m already here.”

You both chuckled before falling back into comfortable silence. Part of you felt like you should be saying something more. After all, you did ask him to bail on the clubhouse party to come and hang out with you. But it was so comfortable with him like this. Something about knowing that he would turn his back on something like that just so he could show up and do nothing with you helped soothe your bruised ego. Your boyfriend couldn’t manage to show up for date night, but Angel could bail on an entire room full of his MC brothers and girls who would give just about anything to take him home just so he could show up and watch cheesy sitcoms with you. It stung but at the same time it felt good. You knew that that was all you really needed to know about how you should be handling your relationship, but you didn’t want to think about that. That problem would still be there tomorrow. You’d deal with it then.

In between episodes, you leaned over so you could set your beer bottle on the coffee table. As you settled back into the couch, you stretched your legs out again. You draped them across Angel’s lap, not commenting on the action as you did so. Your eyes were trained on the television, but in your peripheral you could see the way that Angel was looking at you. His eyes slowly raked up the exposed skin of your legs, along the rest of your body until he was looking at your face. He watched you for a minute, and you thought that maybe he was going to make a joke, or push your legs off him. But he didn’t.

He leaned so that he had one elbow propped against the arm of the couch, still holding his nearly-empty bottle of beer in that hand. Without looking back over at you, he brought his other hand to rest against your shin. The metal of his rings felt cool against your skin, and you flinched slightly, but you didn’t pull away or say anything to him. He felt the twitch, and rather than pulling away, he wrapped is fingers a little tighter. It wasn’t a tight grip, but it was enough to keep you from pulling away as the warmth from your skin made the metal of his rings more tolerable.

“What were you supposed to be doing tonight, anyway?” Angel asked you out of nowhere.

“Hm?” You pried your eyes away from the television screen to look at him.

“For date night. What were you guys gonna do?”

If someone else had been asking, you would assume that they were just going to rub salt in the wound. And maybe you would’ve thought the same of Angel too, because he could get like that sometimes, but there was something about the pensive look on his face that let you know that that wasn’t the case.

You shrugged as you rested your hands on your stomach. “Nothing crazy. Just dinner and then going somewhere for dancing and drinks.” You paused. “Why?”

He shrugged. “No reason.”

You rolled your eyes with a smile. Nudging his leg lightly with your foot, you said, “Nosey.”

He laughed but didn’t argue because he knew that you were right. “Can he even dance?”

“Can you?” you shot back with a curious look.

“Pfft,” he laughed, “like I’m ever gonna give you that kind of ammunition.”

You let out a hum of amusement before the conversation died off again. The controlled chaos of the TV show playing in the background was the only noise in the entirety of your apartment. It wasn’t out of the ordinary for Angel to be over at your place, for it to just be the two of you. So you wondered why this time you felt like it was the first time the two of you had ever existed in a space alone together. His hand that was steadily creeping up your leg was probably a large part of the root cause, but you couldn’t afford to think about it too much. Give it too much of your mental real estate and you were going to combust.

He didn’t say anything as his fingers began to work in methodical little circles against the muscle of your leg. Never in a million years would you have guessed that Angel was the kind of guy who would voluntarily give a girl a massage, let alone be good at it, but you instantly felt more relaxed as your legs untensed against him. You made a conscious effort to ignore the other feelings bubbling in your chest as he slowly but surely worked his fingers higher up your leg. He wasn’t looking at you, so you weren’t going to look at him. Maybe if it stayed like that, you would be able to keep yourself under control.

His fingers worked through a knot at the top of your calf, and the soft moan that slipped out past your lips was completely involuntary. You immediately froze, not turning to look at him, not saying anything about the sound you’d just made. You were waiting for Angel to say something, make some slick comment, a sexual joke of some kind, but he didn’t. His fingers didn’t stop moving, though, creeping up over your knee and onto your thigh.

You didn’t know how many seconds had passed before you finally decided that it was as safe to look at him as it was ever going to be. You slowly turned your head, your eyes searching for his. You thought that he was already going to be looking at you, waiting to say something. But when you were finally looking at him head-on, his eyes didn’t meet yours. Instead, his gaze was locked onto your legs, eyes slowly raking up the exposed skin, zeroing in like he was trying to see past the fabric of your skirt. It should’ve made you uneasy, should’ve made you want to tell him to get the fuck out of your apartment, but it didn’t.

Taking a slow, deep breath, you forced your body to relax again. The tension started to ebb away, allowing you to melt back into the couch cushions and against Angel. And, if your legs parted a little farther in the process, where was the harm in that.

Even with the television playing in the background, you heard the sharp inhale that he took, his eyes still completely zeroed in on your legs. You found yourself gnawing lightly at your bottom lip, just watching him, studying his reactions to it all. You knew that you definitely shouldn’t have been getting so much enjoyment out of it, but it was too late now.

“You good, Angel?” you asked as you watched his tongue dart across his bottom lip.

He cleared his throat as he nodded, finally dragging his eyes away from your legs so that he was looking at your face. “I’m good.” He paused. “You good?”

You nodded, a satisfied smile creeping across your face before you could stop it. “I’m good.”

There was a long pause, each of you waiting for the other to say something, do something. It felt like a game of chicken but you weren��t quite sure what you were waiting for more, for him to push it farther or for him to pull away completely. Usually you could read him without much of an issue, but this time you really didn’t know what his next move was going to be, if there was going to be one at all.

Then he lifted your legs just slightly. You froze, hating the fact that you were worried that he was going to stand up and leave. You would have no right to ask him to stay, to do any of the things that were currently running through your head. You had a boyfriend for that, supposedly. But he wasn’t here. Angel was.

He didn’t get up to leave, though. Instead, he slid down a little closer to you on the couch before draping your legs over his again. You were smiling before you even knew what you were doing. His hands rested easily on your knees, fingers pressing against you lightly for a moment before sliding up onto your thighs. He applied the same pressure he had before, still not saying anything more as he kept traveling slowly further and further towards the raised hem of your skirt.

When he finally reached it, your breath got caught in your throat as you waited to see what he was going to do next. He toyed with the hem of it, sliding the smooth, black fabric between his fingers. You were expecting him to slide his hands completely underneath it, for him to push it the rest of the way up your thighs. You were still holding your breath in anticipation, studying even the slightest shifts in his expression.

So imagine your disappointment when he tugged it down, letting it rest back in its rightful place covering up the majority of your thighs. You felt a little sick to your stomach over the fact that you were disappointed by that at all, but it was too late to take the feeling back now. He didn’t take his hands off of you at least, eyes still traveling up and down your body like he was trying to put together the pieces of a puzzle.

“Angel?”

His eyes snapped up to yours. “Yea?”

“Can you keep doing that?” you asked, your tone innocent enough. “Feels good.”

He swallowed hard, seeming shaken for the first time all night. But he nodded, a wordless agreement as he let his fingers press firmly, purposefully against the skin and muscles of your thighs. Your eyes drifted shut, soaking up the sensation, letting yourself get lost in the thoughts that you most definitely shouldn’t have been having. The disappointment of your canceled date night was the furthest thing from your mind now.

You didn’t even flinch when he pushed your skirt back up. Whatever shred of decency he’d been trying to have was tossed out the window the second you asked him to keep touching you like that. He didn’t know why he was tempting fate the way he was but he was too invested now to back down.

You felt him shifting on the couch, but your brain was too deep in other thoughts to really think about what it meant. You vaguely registered the fact that he was closer to you now, able to feel the denim of his jeans against the backs of your thighs. Your eyes were still closed, unable to see the way that he was looking at you like a starved animal who had managed to find itself a good meal. His teeth were digging into his bottom lip as he tried to exercise a little self-restraint. There was so much that he wanted to say to you, do to you, but with every passing second it all felt like it was turning more and more into a sick joke.

He inhaled slowly through his nose, gearing himself up for whatever your reaction was going to be to what he did next. You’d either let him, or he was going to get caught across the cheek with a mean right hand. At this point, he was willing to take the risk because his heart was pounding inside his chest and he couldn’t walk away without knowing.

His hands slipped underneath your skirt, ghosting over the tops of your thighs. You gasped when you felt the tips of his fingers brushing against the lace of your panties, right at the juncture where your legs met your hips. That’s what got you to finally open your eyes. You lifted your head off the arm of the couch, your mouth slightly open as you looked at Angel. You could see the deep rise and fall of his chest, and he could see the way yours was doing the same.

“I can stop,” his voice had a tone that you’d never heard before and it sent a wave of shivers over your body. When you didn’t say anything in response, didn’t make any type of move to encourage or discourage him, he said, “You want me to?”

You shook your head, your voice coming out small in a way you hadn’t intended it to. “No. Don’t…don’t stop.”

With what seemed like an effortless motion, he shifted so that he was kneeling, facing you slotted between your legs. Spreading his hands over your thighs, he pulled you down so your back laid flat against the couch cushions. He pushed your skirt up, exposing your thighs and panties in the same movement. He heard the shuddered breath you let out as his hands continued to run up and down your thighs, studying you as he tried to figure out what his next move was going to be.

“What’re we doin’ here, mi dulce?” he asked, his voice low.

Your heart was about to burst out of your chest, legs already on the brink of shaking when he hadn’t even really touched you yet. “Whatever you want.”

He licked his bottom lip. “You mean that?”

You managed a nod even though your brain was completely muddled with the possibilities of what Angel wanted to do to you. “I do.”

“This,” he said slowly as his hands crept back towards your hips, “is a bad idea.”

“I know,” you admitted. “I don’t care.”

He huffed out a quiet laugh, not needing anymore encouragement from you as he looped his fingers into the waistband of your underwear and started to pull them down your legs. You lifted your feet off the couch cushion, anything to make it easier for him to get them off of you faster. You were expecting him to toss them aside, but instead he tucked them into the back pocket of his jeans. Later, tomorrow, next week, whenever he thought back on whatever this was about to turn into and he was sure it was a dream, he’d have proof that it wasn’t.

Then his hands quickly ran up your shins and thighs again. This time he moved the rest of his body so that he was hovering over you, your legs loosely draping themselves around him as he set one hand on the arm of the sofa, bracing himself above you. His pupils were blown out like you’d never seen them before as his other hand gripped tighter onto your thigh.

“You’re fuckin’ beautiful,” he rasped out.

It was the closest you ever got to having an orgasm just from the sound of someone’s voice. You whispered a soft, embarrassingly needy, “Fuck,” as you kept your eyes locked on his.

His hand crept from your thigh until it landed in between your legs. You gasped, biting back a whine as he trailed his fingers along your folds with a featherlight touch. Enough for you to feel him there, but not enough to get what you really wanted.

A smirk painted over his features as he applied just a little more pressure. “If you’re this wet already,” he leaned down so that his lips were right next to your ear, “I don’t know if you can really handle me, querida. I haven’t even started yet.”

The moan that came out of you wasn’t planned, but you couldn’t stop it. Your eyes fluttered for a second as his words washed over you but finally you were able to focus on him again. “Let me try.”

The smile on his face was sinful as he leaned down, attaching his lips to yours. Your hands immediately interlocked against the back of his neck, not allowing him the opportunity to pull away now that you had him. You’d thought about what it would be like to kiss Angel more than you cared to admit. It wasn’t something you were exactly proud of, but given the situation you’d put yourself in now, thoughts were the least of your worries.

He tasted like the beer he’d taken from your fridge, like the cigarette he’d probably smoked at the clubhouse before leaving to come and see you. His tongue moving against yours felt like heaven. His teeth nipped at your bottom lip as your fingers slid up and into the short hair above the nape of his neck.

While he was pulling the air from your lungs with the way he was kissing you, his fingers slid up and down your folds, slicking themselves with your wetness and teasing you for just another moment longer before he slowly slid them into you. The moan you let out was something out of Angel’s wildest, wettest dreams. He swallowed the sound eagerly as you kept your lips pressed to his.

You pulled your lips off his only so that you could say his name. It came out like a pant as you pulled him closer to you, moaning quietly into the crook of his neck. His fingers continued to work you over, rendering you an absolute mess as you clawed at his back through the fabric of his shirt.

“How’s that feel?” he murmured against your ear.

You forced your brain to work well enough to string together the words, “So fucking good.”

“How good?” He kissed right below your ear. “Better than him?”

“Angel,” your voice was somewhere between a plea and a warning.

You felt the slight vibration, the hum of his quiet laughter. “You can tell me.”

You gasped as he sped up his rhythm. “Fuck, Angel.”

“C’mon, dulce,” he coaxed, “tell me.” When you didn’t say anything, he stilled his movements, smirking at the whine you let out. “If I’m not doin’ a better job, I can just stop.”

“Don’t stop,” you begged. “You feel s—” your words faltered as he started to move again, “so fucking good.”

He kissed you hard on the lips, his mouth moving hungrily against yours in a vain attempt to distract you from the fact that he was slipping his fingers out of you. You whined against his mouth and the quick laugh he let out would’ve felt insulting if it wasn’t immediately followed by the sound of him unbuckling his jeans.

He pulled away from you, planting his feet back onto the floor just long enough to drop his jeans and boxers to the floor. You were sitting part of the way up, propping yourself on your forearms as you watched him. He was stepping out of the denim that was now in a pile at his feet when he saw you. He chuckled, shaking his head at you as he crawled back on top of you.

“Like what you see?” he asked as he pulled your legs back around his waist.

You hummed in agreement as you slid your hands up his side, your fingers easily finding their way under the ribbed fabric of his tank top. “I’d like it better if I could feel it.”

He let out a breathless laugh as he dropped his face into the crook of your neck. “You’re somethin’ else.”

“You love it,” you mumbled as you tightened your legs around him, desperate to pull him closer and into you.

“Yea,” he moaned as he finally gave in sliding into you, “I really fucking do.”

Whatever you were hoping to say, to taunt him with, instantly fell by the wayside once he was inside of you. There wasn’t a single word or coherent thought in your brain as you wound yourself as tightly around him as you could. Your legs squeezed him tighter, your arms reaching across his back so your nails could dig into him, leaving irrefutable evidence for him to look at the next day.

If you thought that the feeling of him kissing you made your head spin, this was about to send you into the next dimension. You always thought it was so cheesy when people said that it felt like someone was made just for them, but as Angel fought to thrust slowly, to make sure this lasted as long as it could, you couldn’t help but to feel like he really might’ve actually been made for you.

Your eyes were closed, just soaking up the feeling of him on top of you, inside of you, his lips and tongue trailing over your neck. If it had been possible, you would’ve dissolved right into him because of how good it all felt. The moans and whimpers he pulled out of you were ungodly, and they only served to spur him on even more.

Then you felt his teeth graze against the soft, sensitive skin of your neck. He didn’t bite down hard, so you let it go without comment, not wanting to interrupt the moment of bliss you were having if you could help it. He thrust into you harder, the moan you let out making your throat vibrate against his lips. He bit down a little harder, almost starting to suck a dark mark into the side of your neck when you pulled one hand from his back so you could plant it on his chest and push him away. Your body tried to fight you on it, but somehow you managed to win against yourself, putting just enough distance between you so that you could pull his lips back to yours.

“Angel,” you kissed him, “don’t.”

“Don’t what?” he pulled his lips away from yours and latched them back onto your neck. It felt like heaven but you knew it was going to be more trouble than it was worth if you didn’t stop him.

“Don’t, don’t leave any,” you stuttered for a moment when he changed his pace—it was almost a successful distraction, “No marks.”

You felt him chuckle against the column of your throat, the ticklish sensation of his beard against your skin. “Why not?” He kissed you. “Don’t want him knowing that someone else out there is giving you what he can’t?”

Trying to get him to show any self-control felt criminal, and also futile. “Yea, something like that.”

“No fun,” he murmured against you.

You had to laugh at that. “Really?” You carded your fingers through his hair as he pushed his hips to meet yours. “’Cause it feels like you’re having plenty of fun.”

Cupping his jaw, you pulled him back up to you and pulled his bottom lip between your teeth. Before your eyes fluttered closed, you saw the way that he relaxed, melting against you as his hands slid down to grip onto your hips. He held you steady as you continued to kiss him, and you could feel yourself teetering on the edge. He must’ve felt it, too, because he quickly caught your wrists in his hands, pinning them back against the arm of the couch.

The second he pulled his lips off of yours, your phone started to vibrate against the top of the coffee table. You both stilled, Angel leaning to look over and see who was calling. He chuckled as he looked back down at you. “I can answer it, if you want.”

“Don’t,” you sounded so breathless, “Don’t you dare.”

“You don’t want him hearin’ this?” he asked as he moved his hips, pulling another moan out of you.

You shook your head in protest but you couldn’t force anymore words out. Relief coursed through you when Angel dropped his head back down, kissing you hard on the lips before moving back to your next. You knew what he was going to do now that you weren’t going to be able to stop him. At this point you didn’t even care. The moan that came out of you when he sunk his teeth into your neck again let him know that you had no real intention of making him stop. You called out his name as you came undone around him, your legs tightening for a moment before going lax, only staying looped around his waist because of how close he had himself pinned to you.

He ran his tongue over the spot on your neck where his teeth had just been, like he was trying to soothe over the sting. It was the furthest thing from your mind, though, as you slowly started to come down from your high. You felt dizzy from it all as his forehead dropped against your shoulder. All of your limbs felt like they were made of jelly as you laid there, stars behind your eyes as Angel eagerly thrust into you. His grip around your wrists tightened, almost bruising as his movements got more intense.

The reality of everything that was happening burst to the forefront of your mind, and it should’ve made you feel badly, but it didn’t. Instead, it sent a second wave of bliss over your body as you wriggled your hands out of his grasp, immediately pulling his lips to yours. He didn’t fight you on it, pushing his tongue into your mouth, moaning as he came inside of you.

He collapsed on top of you, and you could feel the racing beat of his heart as his chest laid pinned to yours. He buried his face in the crook of your neck as he tried to catch his breath. His hands wandered slowly back down to your legs, running over them, pulling warmth from them as they stayed wound around his hips. You let out a hum of contentment as he placed a few lazy kisses to your neck and what he could reach of your shoulder. If you could’ve, you would’ve laid like that all night.

After a few minutes, when both of you got your breathing and heartrates back under control, Angel slowly, carefully pulled out of you. You fought the impulse to whine, not wanting all of it to be over. But you knew that you had no right to be complaining about something being over when it shouldn’t have happened in the first place.

He placed a lazy string of kisses down your neck and over your clothed chest before getting himself to sit upright. He reached for his boxers on the floor, lifting his hips up off the couch just long enough to pull them on.

You pushed yourself up just enough to lean back against the arm of the couch. You crossed one leg over the other, pushing your skirt down a little bit like it made any fucking difference at this point.

“Hey,” you lifted your chin a little, waiting for him to look at you, “you good?”

He huffed out a laugh as he shook his head, reaching up to run his fingers through his hair. “I’m great.”

Your brain was still a little too muddled to be able to tell if he was being sarcastic or not. He couldn’t make it easy. “What’re you thinking right now?” You paused. “Are you mad?”

He chuckled, a smile starting to curl the ends of his lips as he replayed everything that had just happened. “Fuck no.” He looked over at you, studying your face for a moment before asking, “How messy is this gonna get?”

“What?”

He motioned back and forth between the two of you. “This. Was this a one-time thing? You gonna finally break up with this dude? What’s the deal?”

And just like that, you came crashing down from your high. You dropped your head back against the armrest, staring up at the ceiling as you thought about your answer to his question. “I don’t know.” You dragged your hands down your face. “I know how awful that is.”

“Look,” he reached over, resting one hand on your knee, drumming his fingers, “I don’t give a shit about this guy, or hurting his feelings.” He saw the way you laughed at that. “I don’t. He wants to fuck things up with you? I’ll let him.” He paused, a shit-eating smirk taking over his face as he said, “And I’ll keep fuckin’ you while he’s doing it.”

“Angel!” you chastised him with a laugh.

“I’m serious.” He leaned down, grabbing his jeans so he could start to pull those on too. “I don’t give a fuck about him. But I’ve been tellin’ you, you’re wasting your time.”

“So, what, you think I should just leave him and be with you?”

Angel shook his head. “I didn’t say that. I mean, you should,” he laughed, “but I didn’t say that. Him being a waste of your time has nothing to do with me.”

“Really?” You laughed. “This feels like it has a lot to do with you.”

“Yea, ‘cause I was inside you like, two fuckin’ minutes ago,” he said with a laugh. He stood up, pulling his jeans up and buckling his belt back into place. “You gotta make that choice. I’ll be here, no matter what you end up doing, but,” he raked his fingers back through his hair, “this is your mess to figure out.”

“Why’d you come over, then?”

He shrugged. “I like you. You knew that, though.”

Your voice was quieter than you thought it was going to be as you said, “I know.”

He was about to go grab his boots when he saw the look on your face. “Want me to stay?”

You thought about it for a long moment before finally shaking your head. “I’ll be good. You know, when my legs start working again.”

Angel laughed and shook his head as went to grab his kutte and put his boots back on. You watched him, unable to wipe the smile off your face, or shake the jittery feeling still coursing through your body. You knew that you should feel guilty, and maybe you would in the morning. Or maybe you wouldn’t. It was all a mistake but it certainly didn’t feel like one yet.

He walked back over, standing beside the sofa like he had when he first got to your house. “You sure you’re gonna be good if I go?”

You looked up at him and nodded. “I’ll be fine. Thanks for the company.”

He smirked. “If that’s what you wanna call it.”

You rolled your eyes but you could feel your face getting warm. “Goodnight, Angel.”

He laughed, leaning down and kissing you on the forehead. “Night.” He walked back to the door. He was halfway through it when he turned and looked back over his shoulder at you, a smile on his face as he said, “Don’t forget to cover up that hickey.”

You laughed, shaking your head at him as he pulled the door shut behind him. Once again it was just the noise of the television filling your apartment. Reaching up, you lightly pressed your fingers against where Angel’s mark was, already thinking of the best way to cover it up.

#mayans mc #mayansmc #mayans fx #mayans mc imagine #angel reyes #angel reyes x you #angel reyes x reader #angel reyes imagine #angel reyes fanfic #my writing #fanfiction #drabblesmc

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cellard0ors · 3 months

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Okay so there’s been a few instances with 80’s Travis jerking it thinking of Laura (and hopefully many more 😌) but what about Laura thinking about HIM? And that pairing with her knowledge of him in the present / future and how she feels after the deed

Okay, so - a MILLION years later, I finally wrote this. Mainly to do a fun, smutty little dirty wherein Laura has some thoughts. It's not as deep as this prompt COULD have been, but hopefully it's enjoyable regardless!

Also, thanks to the skinny guy I saw at the gym who gave major 80s Travis vibes (glasses, brown hair, clearly dorky). Sir, you might have been a slim dude, but you handled that big ass dumbbell like it was no big thing!

This is all Travis Hackett's fault.

It was his fault in 2021 and it's his fault now in 1986. Granted, what he's at fault for currently is drastically different from what he did in Laura's regular timeline, but that's besides the point.

The man is a menace - in one form or another.

In his fifties, he was a menace who kept her prisoner for two months. In his twenties…

Laura growls and rolls over yet again. It's after midnight and she can't sleep. Not one wink. She's been struggling for hours. Not to mention a vicious thunderstorm is doing its very best to be as big, if not bigger, a nuisance than Travis.

Occasional flashes of bright white lightning and booms of thunder haven't done much to aid Laura in her quest to sleep. It's also staggeringly humid, even with the rain.

One would hope the storm would break the heat - not add to it. If anything, it's just made things feel…sticky. Or maybe that’s Travis. And her memory. And her stupid fucking libido.

Ever since she shared that ill-fated kiss with him here in the Lodge's music room, she’s found her long dormant sex drive ramping to life. Damn thing has been dead for over a year, yet here she is now - struggling with it.

She rolls over again, punchs at her pillow, scowls into it. Her memory replays the moment - not of their kiss, but of what she saw him doing today. It's so stupid. It shouldn't have affected her then and it shouldn't affect her now.

But it does.

Laura had been looking for him - looking just to tell him some information Zachariah wanted her to pass along about the change to the night's camp group activity.

Initially it had been for everyone to meet for a bonfire and ghost stories, but with the predicted weather forecast, it was changing to game night inside the Lodge.

Simple, easy enough news to pass along.

But when she found him…

Laura rubs her eyes and feels like a complete idiot. She remembers when her friends were all mooning over that Chris/Captain America guy when he did that stupid log chopping scene in that super hero movie - she hadn't gotten the thrill of it.

It was just some muscular guy doing a film scene. Hell, the one log he ripped in half was a fucking prop - not an actual log! What was the big deal? Why had they all been so stupidly horny over it?

God help her…now she knows.

Because Travis, completely unaware she was walking towards him, had been splitting hunks of wood. With an ax. Shirtless. Laura had stopped several feet short of him when she realized what she was witnessing.

Vaguely Laura recalled David mentioning Travis was no wimp - that he'd seen him cut a large amount of firewood - that he was strong. For several reasons, Laura had disregarded this piece of information.

At that moment, she regretted it.

Because Travis was working through each piece of wood like it was nothing. His movements were smooth and controlled. He raised the ax and dropped it down with a force that was…compelling.

Mainly because his arms were flexing with each chop and the wood he struck always parted neatly in two. He'd put a log on the chopping block, raise the ax, split it, and then repeat.

A clear sheen of sweat coated his bare flesh and while his lithe form didn't scream strength or muscle he…was. Strong. Muscled. Masculine. Travis just radiated all of it and Laura's throat went dry, heart pounding in her ears.

…and an unmistakable throb pitched between her legs and in her womb and she truly hated herself and him…

More so when he suddenly seemed to sense her. Travis looked up from his work, wiped at the sweat on his brow with the back of one arm and then turned to another nearby chopping block to grab his glasses.

Travis put them on and he was panting and shirtless and wearing 80s jeans and looking annoyingly attractive - more so when he beamed at her and gave a little wave, “Hey!”

Laura loudly and quickly blurted out what she needed to tell him before turning on her heels and stalking off. Thankfully he didn't follow. But now, here in her bedroom in the Lodge, it's as if he did.

Certainly the memory followed her around all day and another flash and boom makes her roll onto her back and pound both of her fists on the mattress in frustration. If only she could forget! If only she could sleep! If only…

Suddenly Laura goes lax, a rather naughty fact coming to her.

She’s alone in the Lodge. Yes, Zachariah’s bedroom is here as well, but she's hardly ever seen him use it. She has the sneaking suspicion the man sleeps elsewhere - after all, he’s hardly ever in the camp leader’s office.

And if she’s alone, well, there’s always one method of relaxation that helps her go to sleep. Shifting about, she removes her sleep shorts, her underwear. Laura toes them off to one side and she's pretty sure they fall off the small bed.

Sighing lazily, she closes her eyes and lets her hands stroke along the sides of her face, fingertips dancing over her lips. They roam down her neck, slightly ticklish, yet stimulating before both palms pass over her breasts.

Laura lightly squeezes them and tries to imagine it's someone else doing it. She tries to keep her lover faceless - she doesn't want to think of Max, that's long over, and she absolutely refuses to think of…

No.

She won't even think of his name, lest he be conjured up against her will.

Laura's hands soar down to the hem of her white camp T-shirt and she draws it up, exposing her breasts to the air. While it's still stifling inside the Lodge, the air on her bare chest can't help but make her nipples pucker and she goes for them, tweaking them just the way she likes.

She moans and arches her head back at the exquisite sensation, fingers working to roll and tease her tits until they're hard as diamonds. As her open palms press against them, Laura pictures a mouth on them instead, the feel of a wet tongue bathing them and whimpers.

It's exactly what she wants, but not what she has. Still, her imagination is good enough to make the fantasy feel damn near real. She can even see her lover’s dark, puppy dog eyes looking up at her searchingly, asking her without words if she likes this.

“Yessss…” She hisses and she wishes she could comb her fingers through his thick dark hair, clutch at it as she encourages him to take more of her breast into his mouth, to have him suck at it with abandon until she feels that undeniable pull.

But then his mouth disappears and his large palms move down to her thighs. They ease them apart, thick fingers dancing enticingly over the sensitive skin between her legs before moving up, lightly stroking a few fingers along her pussy’s slippery plump folds.

“Oh! You? You're…you're so wet...” His imaginary voice rings in her ears, choked with both excitement and awe. Laura tosses her head about again, feels strands of her long hair sticking to her skin as she moans.

“Travis!” Laura hears herself say his name and then he's clearly there, glasses and all. Out of her mind with lust, she doesn't question it or fight it anymore (her fighting it had been rather lackluster to begin with), and it especially becomes moot as the tender nub of her clit is carefully twisted.

A sharp cry leaves her, hips rising from the mattress and into the feeling. Her whole body shakes from head to toe, a tight coil forming in her center, her breathing choppy as those fingers fall to her entrance.

One enters her with only a little hesitation and she bites her lip, chews it as he husks, “You're so pretty…”

Who says something like that? Who says something so innocent, yet so hot and the finger moves slickly in and out of her honeyed channel. Pleasure washes over as he works methodically, smoothly - he splits her open just as easily as he did the wood and she can't help but choke out an odd chuckle at the idea of his wood.

Fuck - what would it be like? Would it be long and thick? Her and Max had had a field day suggesting he was limp and small or just dickless in general, but in this moment she pictures him as being an impressive size.

Big and solid and perfect for her to ride, for him to thrust deep into her without mercy and sometimes she likes it that way - rough and enthusiastic. Max had always been worried about hurting her, even as she joked that he should just rail her brains out.

…could Travis do that?

He seems so timid now - so gentle and sweet, but his older self…

And suddenly a second finger plunges deep into her, joining the first and both start to relentlessly hammer in and out of her with savage force and her Travis changes - becomes older and without glasses and with a confident sneer that borders on a smile as he works her over.

“You're hungry for this, aren't you, girl? You want me to make you scream.”

Laura doesn't know if she's shaking her head or nodding it, but she doesn't let him stop. If anything she rides his hand for all its worth, her inner walls squeezing at the intrusion and the pressure build at the base of her spine, in her pulsating loins and oh god, oh god, oh god!

She's completely unaware she's chanting the words aloud until they turn over to wordless, ear splitting cries and Travis looks down at her with a rabid intensity as he snarls, “That's it, cmon. C’mon, sweetheart - cum for me.”

One light flick of his thumb against her clit and she nearly jack-knifes off the bed, wailing his name repeatedly as she breaks apart. Her whole body spasms with ecstasy, her orgasm washing over her in a joyous rush.

Slowly her fingers stop their rapid movements, slowly they withdraw from her body. She gets unsteadily to her feet and goes to the bathroom, washing her hands.

Laura doesn't look at her reflection. She just cleans her hands and then stumbles back to the bed, her legs uneasy, the blood in her veins still singing.

She pulls the sheet over her nudity and Travis is there again, young again, and lying right next to her. She feels his hand brush over her hair, her shoulder and his words are tender, “I hope that helps you sleep, Laura.”

All she can manage is a hum, sleep so close to taking her that she doesn't even analyze why Travis is back - why he pleasured her with both his younger and older self - why she responded to both.

Instead Laura finally falls into the sleep that proved so elusive to her before, a happy smile on her face.

#hackearney #travis x laura #my writing #the quarry

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padfootdaredmetoo · 1 year

Note

hello I'm so happy that your requests are open because I followed you a long time ago mainly for peaky fics and now I see you write for tangerine as well and I am fixated with tangerine as well so!!! perfect combo. anyway, I would like to request a very angsty fic where tangerine breaks up with reader. like they love each other but can't be with each other type of thing or they have communication issues idk.. I just love angst and you can decide if it has an happy ending or not and the other details 😌 I'm aware mine isn't a very detailed request so of course if you don't feel like it feel free not to do it!! thanks 💝💝💝

Hey Anon,

I am awful at sad endings. Not the best with angst either but I hope this is what you are looking for. I feel like I may have made it too fluffy because I'm having a rough time. Anyway, thank you for waiting a million years!

Warnings: Fighting, rough childhood, angst, fluff, lots of banter, Ready is having a hard time, mentions of abusive ex-boyfriend abusing power and being evil.

____________________________________________________

Watching her sleep he tried to stop himself from slipping away. His walls were starting to come up after the mission they had on the weekend. Having Lemon to worry about was enough of a headache, but now it was public knowledge in his world that you were his.

Better to break things off while it could still be considered a rumor. Who believed anything Ladybug had to say anyway? Stupid git.

You let out a heavy breath as if somehow you were in agreement with his silent conversation. The normally colorful room was dark and he knew it would be his last night in your floral sheets and ridiculously comfortable bed. He just had to let you know that it was his last night.

He considered ghosting you, but naturally, you were too loyal for that. You’d assume the worst and try to save him, risking your job and potentially your life. He groaned lightly as you shifted your warm body against him.

Stupid fucking job. Where were you 15 years ago when this mess started? If he knew this was in the cards he would have held out, and avoided the industry all together. Maybe he would have gone to uni… maybe gone the government route like you did.

This was also the worst possible time to do it. You’d been having issues with your sister, the pressure from your job was crushing you, and to top it all off it was not the best time of the month.

You woke up eventually, long eyelashes fluttering and he soaked up the look of adoration on your face before he broke everything between you and him.

“Sleep well?” You murmured pressing a kiss to his chest.

___________________________________________________________

Reader POV

Tan’s gaze was distant, he’d been strange since he got home. Lemon didn’t come over for takeout after the job was finished, breaking their tradition. There was something heavy on his shoulders and you wanted to take it from him more than anything.

“Tan-” Your voice fell away before you could ask. The look on his face and awkward posture answered your question. Everyone would stay and as soon as you got sad or ran out of things to do for them they left. God forbid you had a disagreement with them, memories of your mother screaming at you to get out flashed in your mind.

“Look, a rumor about us kicked up-” he looked defeated with the slightest bit of frustration etched into his features.

“I understand it’s fine.” You gritted your teeth. All the feelings of safety you normally felt laying next to him turned into acidic disgust. This wasn't something you thought you could do right now. Too much was going on and losing him was enough to make you break down. You just wanted him to leave, you didn't care about whatever story he was going to spin you. It wasn't his fault you ran in opposing circles, and that this relationship was dangerous. It wasn't his fault but anger and grief consumed you.

“Look, I care about you - But I’m worried-” his voice was earnest and it made you angrier that he was trying to baby you.

“About your reputation I get it. I understand. Get out.” You pointed to the door hoping he would get changed and fuck off. You were barely holding yourself together. He told you from the start what type of guy he was. This was your fault and you should be handling it better. Given the jobs you both did this wasn't supposed to be anything more than a fling.

He just got further than anyone else had. That’s what was making this so difficult.

“Oi! Got us some breakfast,” Lemon called from your kitchen and Tan cringed.

“Just get your things and take him with you.” You turned over onto your side.

“This isn't what I want.” He said taking you off guard.

“I’m not what anyone wants. This was a mistake, I get it. Okay, I understand, just leave.” Your voice was straining and you got up and ran to the bathroom, unfortunately for you he caught the door before it could shut.

You turned around and he moved into your space.

“This isn't something you can just throw away.” He was angry now, something so much easier to deal with.

“I wasn’t throwing anyone away! You are throwing me away.” You started shouting.

“I don't want to throw you away. It’s just not safe right now.” He grabbed your shoulders.

“Right now? As in you found someone better for now!”

“That’s bull shit. I can't have you getting killed because of me.”

“You’re bullshit. You said you’d keep me safe. You said you wanted this. To give it a proper go. Now you miss being single and fucking every chick that looks at you because you - ” Your chest was heaving. How many times had you been through this?

“Shut up!” He snapped, cutting you off.

“You shut up. You stupid man.”

“You having a domestic? Food’s getting cold.”

“Fuck off Lemon.” You both said in unison. His eyes glared at you and you stared him down.

“Just leave me. Okay. it’s fine. I’m not - and that’s fine.” You said finally in defeat.

____________________________________________

Tangerine’s POV

All the things he knew about you flew through his mind. He probably should have thought about the guys who’d hurt you. How your mother had thrown you out. What your dad was like.

All of those hurts were so evident in your eyes it killed him.

But what was worse? What you would do to yourself or what would happen if someone were to use you against him?

“What you are going to feel is much better than what will happen if people confirm we are together. I don’t know how it got out. But I can't let you get hurt.”

The tears started to spill and your body sagged enough to finally pull you into his arms. He held you tightly hating the fact that it might be the last time. Scratch that it would be the last time.

Her chest was heaving and her body shaking. He was so angry at the situation, so mad that some other mother fucker would get to move in. Have every part of her.

Would he keep her safe? He hated the feeling growing in him.

“Look it’s really important that you know there isn't anything wrong with you.” This only made her cry more. Eventually he and Lemon left.

“She looked half dead already Tan.” Lemon said as he drove them far away from her flat.

“Can’t let her end up in this.”

“Maybe we could leave? Take her with us.”

These were not the words he was expecting. His duty above everything was to his brother. He was willing to leave you, to keep you safe, and to do right by his brother.

“You would want that?” Tangerine said, his voice getting cold again.

“Would want that a hell of a lot more than dealing with your fucking moping. Plus she was doing better with us around. That’s a pretty rare find.”

He thought about where he found you, how the whole stupid thing started. Called in to have your stalker ex-boyfriend - who was also your boss- killed. Did it free of charge, and couldn't leave you alone after that. Even Lemon preferred your flat.

Stupid woman. If you weren't so high up in government intelligence - maybe he could see a way. But that job also made you just as crooked as he and Lemon were.

“You ready for retirement?” He asked softly.

“Yeah, I think you deserve your Bond lady. I’m tired of running into Ladybug on every fu-ck-ing job.”

“This will be the last go.” Lemon gave him a nod. The job took about three months.

Three months and yet no Ladybug. Every job they’d had since the Train he’d shown up at some point. Lemon was obsessed with predicting on when he would pop up and fuck them over, but the mission was completed bug-free. This seemed to irritate Lemon even more.

“Nah Tan I’m telling you that bloody fucker is going to show up.” Lemon was pacing across their room. He fought the urge to blow up at him. Why does it matter if he shows up now, mans been killed, money transfered, story is over. Seeing that Lemon wouldn't let it go he tried to think of a solution.

“Just search it in the requests and see if he’s booked” He finally suggested pouring himself a large drink.

“Oh ho that’s an idea.” Lemon started to ramble as he hacked into their company directory. All Tangerine could think of was you. They had more than enough money to retire, but would you come back? Did you want to give up your job? Would you even be able to look at him long enough to let him explain? This might be the hardest job he’d had yet.

Lemon interrupted his thoughts by saying your name. He hummed in agreement, still not paying attention to whatever Lemon was saying.

“Tan there’s a hit, Ladybug took the job.”

“That’s what we do eh?” Can't blame a man for working.” He took another long sip of whiskey.

“On her - TAN THE HIT WAS PLACED ON HER” Lemon’s voice had an authentic tone of panic and the glass shot out of his hand colliding violently with the wall.

No words needed to be said as they grabbed their shit and ran to the door.

____________________________________________

Reader POV

You were beyond tired. Between stalking Tan and Lemon and the amount of work that was landing on your desk you started to wonder if it was time for a break. In 10 years of service never once did you take a vacation. Not when your boss/boyfriend started abusing you, not when your family left. You just kept on pushing through. But with no loud distractions, there was a thick emptiness growing all around you.

When you thought about feeling relaxed you thought about him. They were always around bickering and fighting, while at the same time looking after you.

You were tired. You were broken. You thought about calling your sister, but she’d gone back to her ex again, meaning that you were no longer speaking. You slammed your fist against the cool stone countertop in your kitchen. You tried to push everything out of your mind but it felt like the world was sending you one giant glaring message. The world really didn't need you.

Trying to keep your mind away from dangerous thoughts you changed into something comfy and turned on a comfort crime drama. Pouring a mug of tea you heard a knock at the door. You grabbed the gun you kept in the top drawer of the island and moved toward the entryway.

Looking through the peephole you hated how badly you wanted to see Tan and Lemon. Sadly it was a man with blonde hair. After a quick moment you recognized him as the guy Lemon always shouted about.

What if he was here to deliver a message?

You clicked the safety off the gun and opened the door.

“Hel-OH” The man put his hands up and gave a charming smile. “I just erm- moved in down the hall and -” The man stumbled through his story with a flirty air despite having a gun pressed to his forehead. His eyes rested on your chest and you fought the urge to spit on him.

“Necklace - it’s nice. Special friend give it to you?” He referenced Tan’s gold chain you still refused to take off.

“Something like that. Ladybug?” You said despite already knowing that was his name.

“Well shit - You with the two psycho fruits then?” You smiled slightly at the nickname. “Thought you looked familiar.”

“Perhaps.”

“No point in formalities then. I got a job to steal some files from your computer.” He smiled brightly. “No guns - see” he opened his jacket and proved to you that he was unarmed. You stepped aside to let him in.

“What files and for who? Tea?” You gestured to the kettle.

______________________________________________________________

Tangerines POV

“The hit was placed days ago. DAYS” He pinched the bridge of his nose. Why did he think breaking up with you was a smart idea. How many comic books had he read telling him that was a stupid idea?

“Why do you keep letting me make stupid fucking choices eh?” He shouted at Lemon who was driving like a madman going well over the limit.

“Tried telling you not to get involved. She slept with her boss and then had him killed.”

“She liked him well enough - Look, her dad really messed her up, can’t blame her for missing the red flags. The important thing is when she found out he was trafficking those girls she dealt with it.”

He rambled worse than Lemon when he got nervous. Memories of the first night you had met ran through his mind making the pain in his chest triple. His hands were shaking and his head felt like it was splitting in half.

How could he let this happen? Lemon slowed down, but before he could park Tan had already jumped out of the car leaving the door open.

He tried the button on the elevator but it refused to light up so he ran up the stairs, taking them two at a time. A bell rang out once at the top and Lemon walked out of the elevator.

“Why’d you waste time on the stairs?” He asked as they hurried down the hallway towards your apartment. Once he caught sight of your door he lunged and kicked it clean off its hinges. He heard you scream out and it was like the world had finally stopped spinning. Screaming meant breathing and breathing meant living.

He ran into your living room to find you standing there with your gun up, and Ladybug sipping a mug of tea giving a friendly wave.

“Tan - What the fuck-” You started but he didn’t care this had to end now. He grabbed the mug of tea from the man's hand and threw it at him, starting the brawl.

__________________________

Readers POV

“Are you going to break them up!” You asked as the two men struggled against each other.

“Nah” Lemon came to stand close to you. “He’s had an ass-kicking waiting for him for ages.”

You watched as Tan spilled his blood all over your plush carpet.

“Ladybug started the rumor that you and Tan were a thing. Probably harmless, just trying to get under our skin. But you should have seen him when we found out he accepted a job on you.”

“Well, he didn’t know the job was on me till he got here.”

“Look, he was pulling his hair out all day, even cried on the plane. Just let him have his moment eh?”

After a moment it became evident to you that if someone didn't stop him your second favorite mug wouldn't be the only casualty.

“Tan - Tan” You called his name and grabbed hold of the arm he was using to batter Ladybug’s face with. “TAN - stop.” You struggled against his strength but he looked up at you. Something in your face was enough to get him to stop.

“He was gonna fucking kill you.” He said in an exasperated tone, chest heaving. “Fuck off and let me handle it.”

“He wasn't here to kill me. Just wanted some files. He didn’t know I live here.” His eyes narrowed on you as if he had superpowers and could tell if you were lying. “Promise, he wasn't going to hurt me.”

“Thank you.” Ladybug coughed.

“Shut up.” Tan barked. “Don't look at her either.”

“Lemon, can you deal with him?” You asked firmly as you pulled Tangerine into the bathroom.

“What the fuck was that?” You shut the bathroom door and turned the cold water on, placing his hands under it. You started shouting at him as you washed his hands.

“You fucking left you have no right to break down my fucking door you mother fucker” You continued on as you grabbed a washcloth from the cupboard and started washing the blood from his face. Then you put some ointment on his knuckles before wrapping them.

“It’s embarrassing you run off to some stupid island for three fucking months.”

“You kept tabs on us?” Tan finally spoke.

“Shut up!” You pulled the wrap tight and knotted it. “The point is you don’t love me and I don't want you here.”

You finally looked into his eyes and wanted more than anything to understand what you had to say to get him to figure it out. Talking was never something you guys were good at, especially when the topic was painful.

He looked at you very carefully for a moment and you knew his temper was raging, you were expecting a proper fight this time.

“Oi we are going to run to the hardware store. Grab a new door and that. Fancy some takeout?” Lemon shouted from down the hall.

“You know I have a real craving for some pad thai” Ladybug called out.

“That’s a good call.” Lemon agreed. You could feel the heat radiating off of him but couldn't help but push him a little bit farther.

“Pad Thai, extra spicy, no peanuts.” You called out before his lips crashed into yours. He picked you up and slammed you against the bathroom door. His hands were all over you and you thought about stopping him, but this was so much easier than talking.

_______________________________________________

After making a proper mess in your bathroom he carried your bed. He pulled the covers over you and kissed the top of your head. He held you tightly till the sound of laughter floated into your apartment.

“Stay.” He ordered before leaving. You were so tired you didn't care enough to argue.

You curled up and could just barely hear what they were saying.

“Can you guys handle this?” Tan asked keeping his voice low.

“Yeah, foods on the counter,” Lemon responded. “She alright?”

“She’s tough, just needs to rest, that's all.” He said a few other things that you couldn't hear. “You both can fight over the guest room.”

“Piss off,” Lemon grumbled.

Tan came back with food and after getting your chopsticks he settled his arm around you.

“We should probably talk about everything.” You said in between bites.

“We have officially retired. Quit your job and come with us.” He whispered his mustache tickling your ear.

You should really deal with everything. Talk about your initial reaction to him trying to break up with you. Figure out where the relationship was going. Understand each other's goals. But talking wasn't ever your thing.

“Sure.” You said around a mouth full of noodles.

_________________________________________________________

#Tangerine #bullet train #bullet train 2022 #tangerine x reader #Tangerine fic #tangerine request #Bullet train request #bullet train imagine #Tangerine imagine #Tangerine One shot

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flowercrowngods · 8 months

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Saw the overwhelming majority voting for “who did this to you part 4”, so how about a snippet from the high yearning fic? ☺️

thank you my love 🥰🤍 i’m holding you endlessly 🫶

Turns out, ignoring Steve is both easier and harder than Eddie expected. The thing is, he’s good at diving into any conversation with just about anyone, making it larger than it needs to be until everyone in the room will give him funny looks but still roll with it, because Eddie Munson is just Like That, right?

But Steve doesn’t give him funny looks. Oh, they’re far from fun. There’s something in there that reminds Eddie of a kicked puppy in those fleeting moments that he lets his eyes meet Steve’s, never letting them linger, never letting them take him in and hold him and bask in the sunlight that is stored in those… Those beautiful, beautiful eyes. And that pretty, pretty face.

A face that shouldn’t look so sad.

He wants to ask what’s wrong, ask him if it’s a bad pain day, ask him if he didn’t sleep last night either, or if something happened. But how is he supposed to ask, to let any words come out of his mouth, when Steve just won’t look away. When he’s looking at Eddie like that again, when the little something that has shifted between them suddenly becomes massive enough to steal all the air away from his lungs and make his arms tingle in a way that he knows will only get better if he gets to wrap them around Steve.

He can’t. So he doesn’t. He doesn’t ask. But he doesn’t look away either, and he knows he’s already lost. He knows he broke this promise he made to himself.

But it’s fine, maybe, if the slight twitch in the corners of Steve’s lips is anything to go by. Like he, too, wants to say something but can’t. Like he knows Eddie is the same. Like his heart is racing, too, and he tried not to look but they’re so stupid and looked anyway and now they can’t—

“Guys?” Robin interrupts their little moment, the bubble bursting with a loud snap of her fingers that makes Eddie physically flinch.

He looks at her, spooked to shit and gasping because he does not do well with sudden loud noises or the impromptu bursting of bubbles — not after everything that happened.

“Shit, sorry, oh my God!” Robin’s there immediately, reaching for his hand, Nancy laying hers on his shoulder, Jonathan making himself known with a gentle little, “You’re fine, man.”

Eddie catches his breath and breathes away the panic, thinking that maybe getting high today wasn’t such a bad idea after all. He hands Robin the baggie and stuffs his hands into his pockets, making himself a little smaller by muscle memory alone.

Steve’s hand comes to rest between his shoulder blades — reassuring and warm. Like a flower, Eddie rises to follow it. He catches Steve’s smile out of the corner of his eyes and wants to rest his face against it. Wants to feel it against his skin.

God, he’s so hopeless.

Good thing that Robin’s got the blunt under control, because Eddie does not trust his hands right now.

want me to write more? make me 😌

#high yearning makeout fic #titling this thing will be so fun lmao anyway eddie is down bad and they’re both yearning and traumatised #make me write ask game #steddie #steddie fic #this has too much buildup again but i need yall to know how gone they are for each other

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fandomfluffandfuck · 5 months

Note

I've always had a thought of Pornstar au with Stucky but I never have enough time to write one, mainly bcs the words won't come out and i fucking hate myself sooooooo

I'll just punch my idea here for you bcs so suddenly, I can't stop thinking of Pornstar!Seb HAHAHAHA but I'll stick with my original idea of STUCKY instead of Evanstan although I do love those two idiots AHJSSJJE

Right uhm, anyways, this prompt started off with well, porn, obviously bcs I'm a budding artist who wants to practice nsfw stuff (ehem😌😌) and the first place I went to for pose references were Porn sites

I was hit with sudden inspiration out of nowhere when I got reminded that Steve was a fucking artist SJIDHEIJEUR my mind is then consumed by the idea of one Steve Rogers, scrolling through a porn site looking for pose references when he stumbles into a single account

It's nothing special to be honest but what catches his eye is the full sleeve tattoo on the stars left arm. Curious, Steve checks the account out and discovers Winter_Soldier who's got quite the following. Steve is immediately enthralled at the sight of the man and his silky brown hair, the only thing visible about his face being his bright steel blue eyes. Winter is thicc, chest big enough you could fuck a dick between it and a pair of thighs Steve's sure enough could crush a water melonn NGHHHH don't even get Steve started with his dick, a pretty thing thats anything but little

Bucky might like to bottom but he could fuck if he wants, those sessions where he'd bring another pornstar over for a joint video and he'd practically fuck them to the mattress. Steve salivates at the thought of getting bedded by Bucky, brain just gone at the idea of having Bucky spread on his bed for him to take or of Bucky between his legs, ready to fuck him stupid

He's so adventurous too, his videos containing multiple angles of him fucking his thick ass onto an equally thick dildo, voice slightly muffled from behind the mask but still loud enough that Steve could pick up his mewling ramblings. Winter has a seductive voice that melts to a whine whenever he's got something in him and What's supposed to be Steve looking for pose references and practicing his anatomy's ends up with him furiously jerking off to this gorgeous man

Steve has never seen someone so enticing before, the way Winters body would curve and bend, slick hole making way for the thick dildos he liked to shove in. He fucks and liked to talk, his god given voice rumbly as he spoke to his audiences, taking requests or just simply dirty talking GOOD LORD AJDHWJRHRJJEEJ Steve can't take his eyes off the monitor and his hand off his dick, eyes always coming back to the intricate robot like design of Winters left arm

Somehow, Steve manages to finish his practice but not before he nearly bled himself dry with how much he jerked off. His sketch book suddenly filled with a brown haired masked pornstar. Some hour later, he stumbles out of his room and into the shared kitchen of the dorm he's renting. He nearly trips when he finds his roommate James cooking some dinner

He's been rooming with James for nearly a year now but they're not really close (yet). In Steve's opinion, he's too pretty for his own good and Steve can never talk straight or properly whenever James is the one he's conversing with. James is very sweet though (he told Steve he could call him Bucky bcs that's what his friends call him), voice soft and always drowning in the oversized hoodie he favours. He's not small by any means, with a wider set of shoulder than Steve but he's definitely shorter by a couple of inches.

Steve's always ogling at Bucky whenever he could and he always thinks that his hair is pretty but a detail catches Steve's eyes with how he tied his hair in a messy bun as he cooked. It looked similar with... Steve freezes on the spot, staring at Bucky like an idiot. There's no way right?? It must be just a coincidence!!

Instinctively, Steve's gaze falls onto Bucky's left arm, covered with the long sleeves of his hoodie. Steve has never seen Bucky with his clothing off or just a simple sleeveless outfit and Winter did have a few tattoos, the most prominent one was the full sleeve on his left arm... Steve shakes himself. His roommate can't be the pornstar he's suddenly addicted to, that's just rude to assume

When Bucky calls him to share the dinner, steel blue eyes curved in a somewhat familiar smile, Steve's throat dries and he doesn't know if he hates or loves the possibility of his absurd idea

In the end though, it's not him who makes the official discovery. Instead, it's Bucky who makes the reveal when he finds one of Steve's sketchbook laying around, filled with sketches and practice of a familiar brown haired star in different positions and angles

Steve's all bashful at being caught with his 18+ content and Bucky practically drills his new obsession out of him with a glint in his eyes. When Steve confesses the fact that he's been having fantasies about Winter and woke up every morning with a boner, religiously coming to check Winters account for updates or live sessions, Bucky practically grins like the cat who got the cream, the shy facade giving away to Steve's dirtiest dream

"So you like my voice huh?" Bucky murmurs where he's coiled like a snake on the couch, his eyes going lidded as his voice dropped a few octaves. Steve is frozen at the other end of the couch, surprise and something else shimmering in his guts

"Tell me, Steve.. Do you keep coming back to my account because I provide you with good practice material or is it because I turn you on?" Bucky practically purred, uncoiling and starting to crawl his way to Steve. Considering that their couch isn't that big and neither of them are small, Steve suddenly has his dreams on his lap

"I just needed practice," he weakly says and Bucky's lips curve into a smirk that would follow Steve to his dreams, face finally full with his bright eyes. Ever so slowly, Bucky leans until he's got his lips straight to Steve's ear, squirming on his laps and arms around his neck

"I could give you a live modelling session," he whispers, breath hot against Steve's flushed skin. He shivers and Bucky's next words makes his hand come up to Bucky's waist to squeeze tightly.

"And if you want a live demonstration with yourself included.. well, I can give you that too."

AHAHAHAH I don't know what to do with this prompt but plssss it's been haunting me (HAH), anyways, tis just a tease but they basically fuck (obviously 🙄🙄) and we can have the dynamic of Bucky happily expanding Steves sexual experiences and Steve happily allowing Bucky to expand his sexual experiences SKWJJEJEJE

-🫠🫠

related to this

I feel that, words are hard, but don't downplay what you have because what you have FUCKS!!

Also, I love that. Sometimes you gotta go to the source for references 👀 I get it. That is SUCH a great idea, though! I fuck with that so hard! Artist!Steve looking for inspiration and stumbling onto pornstar Bucky... 😮‍💨😮‍💨

And pornstar Bucky, who's thick with INK?

Kill me. Oh, wait, you already have!

Jesusss.

He's a switch, too? I'm salivating. The mask?? The whimpering? I'm being murdered! 😫 WOOF he does sound so damn enticing. Fuck.

THE PLOT THICKENS!

Roommates??

I do not have words. Brain scrambled. Useless. I am fucking obsessed with the idea of Steve going from avid consumer of Bucky's pornography to being a part of it. Living his fantasy. Actually.

Yes!! I would love to see this written because imagine all the shit they could get into! All the kinks they could explore (especially exhibitionism, getting off to being watched). All the toys that I'm sure Bucky has. Expanding on how it comes out, too, would be so good. Draw it out. Build it up. Does Steve catch him shooting porn when he's supposed to be out? Is it not confirmed like that? When does Steve see him without long-sleeves on for the first time? Is it in private? Is it in public, and he has to act normal? Does Bucky make Steve stutter through it and ask himself if he does porn, by chance, or does Bucky easily handle it, grinning and nonchalantly confirming it? Plus, building up to Steve's first time on camera would be killer. His nerves and excitement and then his embarrassment when he gets on camera and he's so revved up that he cums so fast.

God.

You could go so many ways!

Either way, written or not, this AU is going to live rent-free in my head because 🤌🏻yes🤌🏻

Imagine all the "roommate walked in on me" fantasy porn they could shoot 😮‍💨😮‍💨

#asks #🫠🫠 anon #anon provided writing #bucky barnes #steve rogers #stucky

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