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monzabee · 2 months

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prison for life - mv1

masterlist ||

Summary: The one where if anybody hurts you, Max is going to prison for life.

Pairing: max verstappen x pregnant!reader

Word Count: 3.9k

Warnings: fluff, pregnancy, mentions of throwing up, cursing, kinda angsty in some places, jos verstappen

Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! i’ve been in such a max mood recently that is actually shocking to me, but i just needed some fluffy anything after working on smutty pieces for weeks. i got this idea in my dream and honestly i think it turned out better than i could’ve imagined!! feedback is always appreciated, and my requests are currently open if you want to check that out, i hope you guys enjoy! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms.

If you would have to choose a word to describe Max, it would be ‘overprotective’, because that’s what he is. It’s not a bad thing, per say. He isn’t overbearing or controlling at all, but he is simply overprotective. And if you thought he was overprotective when the two of you were dating or when you first got married, you have to admit that you were not, at all, prepared for his protectiveness when you told him that you were pregnant. Apart from his initial meltdown over becoming a dad, or rather becoming like his own father, Max has been pretty chill about the whole thing – with the exception being your safety, of course. The underlying problem isn’t the fact that you’re some sort of daredevil because you’re not, the problem is the fact that Max believes that everything is out to get you.

The olives you wanted to eat for breakfast? Choking hazard.

The candles you bought for the living room (to be purely decorative, but still)? Fire hazard.

The pool lounger Victoria thought would be a cute addition to the pool? Drowning hazard.

The seatbelt in his car that is surprisingly tight? Could be all three, according to Max, given the right (or wrong) circumstances.

So, yeah, maybe he wasn’t that scared of becoming a dad, but he was surely scared of you being in danger. That’s why you agreed to stay back for the most races this year – you knew he didn’t need to worry about you or your baby’s safety on top of the stress he had to deal with during the usual racing weekend. That was until you realised how much you would miss your boyfriend after almost a month of not seeing him due to a triple header. And so, you did the thing any person with a common sense would do – flying out to see him without telling him beforehand, because what’s the fun in that?

The sheer look of shock on his face might be the funniest thing you’ve ever seen when you meet him in his driver’s room, but of course Max doesn’t share the same sentiment as you. Because all he chooses to focus is the fact that you were on a plane – a 0.23% risk out of very 7.7 million flights each year, but still. He spends at least half an hour, just checking you over and assuring himself that you and the baby are fine; at some point he decides that you need to go to the nearest hospital to get an ultrasound just to make sure the baby is okay, but you tell him to fuck off and calm his tits down in the kindest way possible. And that’s how the two of you end up on the small couch in his driver’s room, with his arms around you as you lay between his legs, his hands splayed on the swell of your stomach as he caresses the skin through the fabric of your dress. His voice is low as he tells you about his day, mostly media duties since it is only Thursday, and how he thinks putting a cat tree in the nursery is a bad idea (that was your idea initially, but you can see how having two rumbunctious cats hang out in the nursery could cause problems).

“I also thought about something else,” he mumbles, suddenly busying himself with the flower pattern of your dress instead of looking at you.

You raise your brows slightly, motioning him to continue, but let out a huff when he doesn’t do so right away. “Come on,” you whine softly, “tell me what it is Maxie.”

“I don’t want him to get into karting.” His words are soft, mumbled, and most definitely final. You know how Max can be when he puts his mind into it, and this particular topic has been a discussion in your household ever since the two of you found out that you were having a boy. “I don’t want him to go through what I went through.”

Letting out a soft exhale, you motion Max to six next to you on the couch. “He won’t,” you assure him, voice soft as you give pleading looks at him, “you’re not your father, Max.” He gives you a look that basically begs for you to not dwell on the topic, but you continue despite the look he gives you, “And what if he wants to get into karting? Are you going to tell him no?”

Max tries his best to ignore the knowing look you give him, knowing very well that he won’t be able to ever say ‘no’ to his son, who already has him wrapped around his finger. “I might do that, you never know.” He grumbles, hiding his face in your hair – though the soft giggles coming from you manages to put a soft smile on his face. “You’re supposed to agree with me, you know, we have to be a united front.”

“We’ll discuss it when the baby comes, until then, I’ll be the voice of reason.” You emphasise, poking him at his bicep to convey your point. “You feel better now?”

“Kinda,” he murmurs, leaving small kisses onto the exposed skin of your shoulder as he keeps on murmuring against your skin, “I would feel better if I knew you stayed in bed all day, relaxing.”

With that, you choke a loud laugh, and motion him to stand up as you try to do it yourself – though, of course, he has to help with the baby bump being in the way of you doing any sort of physical activity. “You’re funny, let’s go get me ice cream.”

The only response you get back is a confused look from your husband, his head tilted to the side as he eyes you warily. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“Um, excuse me?” You raise an eyebrow, “Your son,” pointing to your stomach, you emphasise your words, “is craving ice cream right now.”

Max’s eyes soften instantly, and a smile creeps across his face. He nods, taking your hand gently as he helps you up. “Well, if my son wants ice cream, then ice cream he shall have.”

You giggle as you both make your way out of the driver’s room, Max's hand never leaving yours. The paddock is bustling with activity, but for a moment, it feels like it's just the two of you, cocooned in your little world. As you approach the nearest concession stand, Max’s protective instincts kick in once again. “Is this ice cream stand safe? How long have they been here? Do they have the proper health certifications?”

You roll your eyes playfully. “Max, it’s ice cream, not a five-course meal. I’m sure it’s fine.” He sighs but nods, deciding to trust your judgment. After all, you did manage to fly all the way here without incident and somehow alerting him. You both get a generous serving of your favourite flavours, and as you sit down to enjoy your treat, you feel a sense of normalcy and contentment wash over you.

Max watches you with a tender expression, his eyes filled with a mixture of love and worry. “I know I can be overprotective,” he says softly, reaching out to brush a stray hair from your face, “but it’s only because I love you so much.”

You smile, leaning into his touch. “I know, Max. And I love you too. But sometimes, you need to trust that everything will be okay. We’ll figure things out together, just like we always do.”

He nods, his gaze shifting to your belly. “You’re right. I guess I need to talk to my mom.”

“Why?” You ask, tilting your head to the side in curiosity.

“Well, she promised me she’d look after you but you’re here, so I think we need to have a talk about not keeping secrets from each other.” He mumbles, dragging a hand down his face.

You laugh, nudging him playfully. “Oh, Maxie, who do you think helped me with my bags at the airport? Your mom is unsurprisingly a strong woman.”

He chuckles softly, shaking his head. “I should’ve known better than to think you’d stay put for a whole month.” He sighs, but there’s a smile playing on his lips. “Alright, but next time, at least let me know you’re planning something. My heart can only take so much.”

Max feels a lot better after tricking you with ice-cream into at least staying put withing the Red Bull hospitality for the day as he gets through his media duties. Max feels a lot better after tricking you with ice cream into at least staying put within the Red Bull hospitality for the day as he gets through his media duties. He periodically checks in, making sure you're comfortable and well-fed. Each time he sneaks a glance your way, you catch him with a knowing smile and a roll of your eyes, and he returns it with a wink. He knows that there is absolutely no reason for him to be checking on you as much as he does, because you’ll be fine in the cool hospitality suite with enough water to keep you hydrated for years, but he can’t help but worry about anything and everything going wrong. And his worries prove to be true when he sees the one person who he definitely doesn’t want around you.

“What are you doing here?” He asks the approaching figure, “I thought you were not going to be coming to this race but the next one.”

“Given the drop in your performance in the last few races I thought I should be here for... support.” His dad supplies, eyes finding you behind his son’s back on one of the couches in the hospitality, “And I can see the reason for why you’ve been distracted lately, what is she doing here?”

Max scoffs, crossing his arms on his chest protectively, “She’s my wife, she is more than welcome to be here.”

“She’s also a distraction, Max,” his father points out, “you’re going to lose your focus if you keep–”

Since Max is faster than his father where it matters the most, he cuts him off before he can say anything further. “Leave, I don’t want you here.”

Max’s father looks taken aback, his eyes widening momentarily before they narrow into a scowl. “Excuse me?” he says, his voice low and dangerous.

“You heard me,” Max replies firmly, his stance unwavering. “I don’t want you here if you’re going to criticize my wife and stress me out, or worse, stress her out.”

“You’re being irrational,” his father argues, taking a step closer. “I’m just trying to help you stay focused.” Seeing that his son is not going to back down anytime soon, he points a threatening finger towards him. “I’ll be back on race day, but you better be ready to put in a winning performance,” his father finishes, his voice laced with finality. He turns on his heel and walks away, leaving a tense silence in his wake.

Max sighs deeply, running a hand through his hair as he watches his father disappear into the crowd. Looking back at you over his shoulder, talking to some interns from the social media team, he can’t help but feel the dread of you having to face his father – which gives him another reason to somehow stop the two of you from running into each other during the weekend.

On Friday, Max’s luck decides to do him a favour as you tell him that you’re not feeling well enough to go to the track with him for the qualifying, and though it is true that he wants you to be with him, he also realises that this will give him one less thing to worry about. He knows how stressful it can be for you to navigate the bustling paddock and deal with the crowds, especially with the added pressure of possibly encountering his father.

“You rest up, okay?” he says, his voice full of concern. “I'll be back as soon as I can. If you need anything, just call me.”

You nod, giving him a reassuring smile. “I will, Max. Good luck today. We'll be cheering you on from here.”

Max leans down to kiss your forehead gently as he mumbles into your skin, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you reply, your voice soft and comforting, “be careful out there, okay?”

Max has one goal throughout qualifying, and to his team principal’s dismay, it is not being on pole. His one and only goal is to get the session done with as quickly as possible and get back to you as soon as he can. After the session ends, he barely waits for the car to come to a stop before jumping out and heading straight for the hospitality suite. His team notices his urgency but knows better than to question it once he tells them he’ll pay whatever fine the FIA will give him for missing his interviews.

Bursting through the door, Max finds you resting comfortably on the couch, a cup of tea in your hands. The sight of you immediately calms his racing heart. “Hey,” he says softly, walking over to sit beside you. “How are you feeling?”

You smile up at him, still in his team gear and the hat he almost never takes off, the warmth in your eyes easing his worries. “Better, now that you're here. How did it go?”

“Starting on pole,” he replies, mostly in a mumble, taking your hand in his. “But all I could think about was getting back to both of you.”

You squeeze his hand, your expression tender. “I'm proud of you, Max. You did great.”

He leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. “Thanks. Let's just relax for the rest of the day, hm? I want to hold you to make sure you’re not getting out of this bed until tomorrow.”

“You know, I would be happier about this proposal if it was until different circumstances,” you sigh, earning a laugh from him as he pulls you towards his chest, being careful not to spill your tea, of course. Why? Because it is a safety hazard, of course.

As you settle back into the bed together, Max feels a sense of relief wash over him. The stress of the day melts away in your presence, and he realizes how much he needs these quiet moments with you to forget all about the outside world and focus his energy on what actually matters instead.

The next day, feeling much better, you prepare to join Max at the track for the race. He’s still concerned but reassured by your determination to support him. As you arrive at the paddock together, Max is more attentive than ever, keeping an eye out for his father in hopes of trying to prevent the two of you running into each other. Navigating through the bustling paddock, Max keeps a protective arm around your waist, and a hand on your bump whenever the two of you stand somewhere talking to someone, guiding you through the throngs of people. His eyes constantly scan the crowd, his jaw set in a determined line. The other drivers and team members greet you warmly, and you return their smiles, feeling the anticipation that surrounds you.

“Max, relax a bit,” you whisper, squeezing his hand as you notice the tension in his posture.

He glances down at you, his expression softening slightly. “I just want to make sure everything’s okay.”

“I know,” you reply, reaching up to stroke his cheek, “but we’re here to enjoy the race and support you. Try to focus on that.”

He nods, taking a deep breath as both of you make your way to the Red Bull hospitality area. The team welcomes you with open arms, and you settle into a comfortable spot where you can watch the preparations for the race. He asks one of the interns to keep an eye on you, which he thought he was being sly whilst doing it, but you of course catch him in the corner of your eye. That’s when you realise the man walking towards him, your eyes meeting in nothing short of disdain for each other.

You stiffen slightly, your hand tightening around Max’s hand as he turns just in time to see his father approaching, his protective instincts kicking into high gear as he lets go of your hand and decides to wrap his arm around you protectively instead.

“Max,” Jos says, his tone neutral but carrying an underlying condescension. “We need to talk before your race begins, walk with me.”

Max's grip tightens around you for a moment before he reluctantly loosens his hold. “What is it, Dad?” he asks, his voice steady but tinged with irritation.

Jos's eyes flicker to you before focusing back on Max. “I wanted to discuss strategy, but I can see this isn't a good time.”

Max's jaw clenches, his protective instincts on high alert. “If it's important, we can talk here. I’m not leaving her side.”

Jos sighs, clearly frustrated. “Fine, if that's how you want it.”

Max’s arm remains firmly around you as his father steps closer. “Make it quick,” Max insists, his tone leaving no room for argument. If other people were to see your eyes moving from one Verstappen to the other, they’d probably think you are watching a tennis match, though the situation in front of you is certainly more tense than that.

Jos glances at you once more before addressing Max. “I just wanted to remind you to stay focused. Pole position is a great start, but you need to keep your head in the race.”

Max's eyes narrow, and he lets out a scoff, “I know how to do my job, no need for reminder. Anything else?”

Jos shakes his head, his expression a mix of disappointment and resignation. “Just don’t let distractions cost you the win.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Max hisses, taking a step towards his father as he gently pushes you behind himself. You have to put a hand against his chest to slow him down, though that doesn’t prove to be a sufficient prevention method. “I already told you; she is my wife, and he is not going anywhere so you better get that into that damaged brain of yours.”

“Max,” you try to plead with him, “please, not before your race.”

He gives you a look over his shoulder for a short moment before turning back towards his father. His jaw is set as he looks at the man in front of him. “I’ll only tell you this one more time. When she’s here with me, you don’t show up. If you do show up, you don’t come near her, you don’t talk to her, you don’t even look at her.” Another step taken towards his father has you tightening your hold on him, but he still manages to convey his message. “Try something like this again, and you won’t be in my life anymore let alone my son’s.”

Jos's lips press into a thin line, his eyes darting to you briefly before settling back on Max. “Fine,” he repeats, his tone colder. “Just remember what’s at stake every time you get behind the wheel.”

Max stands his ground, his eyes locked onto his father's, unwavering. “I know exactly what's at stake, and I don't need you reminding me. Now, if you’ll excuse us, we have a race to focus on.”

It’s not the first time Max has stood up to his father, not by any means. But you can tell that this time affects him in a different way. The weight of the words exchanged and the implications for their future relationship linger in the air. You can feel the tension radiating from Max as he watches his father walk away, and it takes a moment for him to relax his posture and turn back to you. “Please tell me something that will calm me down so I don’t somehow do something that would put me to jail.”

“Okay,” you singsong, quickly positioning yourself in front of him so that you can fix him with a strict look on your face. “You are not doing something that will put you into prison, period.”

“I’m going to need a very good reason because all I want to do right now is follow him to his car and punch him.” Unfortunately for you, the way his jaw is set is a telling sign that, no, Max would actually do something like this given the circumstances.

“There is no sim racing in prison.” You try to provide, giving him a weak smile.

Max's lips twitch into a small, reluctant smile at your words, the tension in his jaw easing slightly. “No sim racing in prison, huh? Do you honestly think that would keep me from doing something stupid?”

“I panicked!” You exclaim, hitting him on his chest lightly as he laughs at you silently. “How are you supposed to help me raise our son,” you point to your stomach to emphasise your point, “if you’re in prison, huh?”

Max's smile grows wider, the tension in his posture finally starting to melt away. “Okay, okay, you’ve got a point,” he says, placing his hands on your shoulders and looking into your eyes. “I need to be here for both of you. But it’s so damn hard to ignore him.”

You reach up and cup his face in your hands, your eyes soft and filled with understanding. “I know, but you’re stronger than him. And you have more important things to focus on. Like winning this race and getting me more ice cream on our way back to the hotel.”

He takes a deep breath, nodding slowly as he lets out a soft chuckle. “You’re right. I can’t let him get to me. Not today.”

“Exactly,” you say, giving him a reassuring smile, “I usually am.”

Max laughs, the sound lightening the mood even more. “Yes, you usually are,” he agrees, pulling you closer for a brief kiss. “Thank you for always knowing how to calm me down.”

“That’s what I’m here for,” you say, resting your forehead against his. “Now, go out there and show everyone what you can do. We’ll celebrate with ice cream afterward.”

“Deal,” he replies, his eyes twinkling with affection and determination. With one last squeeze, he lets you go and turns towards his team, his focus now fully on the race ahead. “But I feel like I need to let you know that I would definitely go to prison for life for you.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Don’t you have a race to win, Verstappen?”

He grins, giving you one last kiss before heading off to prepare for the race, giving you a grin over his shoulder as he starts to move away, “So, I’ll get the rest of that kiss after the race, then?”

“Yeah, Max,” you let out a breathy laugh, your eyes not leaving his for a moment, “after the race!”

#monzabee #requests open #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 smut #formula 1 #fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #max verstappen #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine #imagine #fluff #angst #smut #max verstappen fluff

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charmercharm3r · 1 year

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Dream You

Masterlist

wc: 4k

Synopsis: He cheated on you— in your dreams, then took kiss it better too literally.

warnings: smut, explicit sexual content, softdom!chan, light bondage, oral (m receiving), dacryphilia, pretty intensely fluffy they just rly love each other

☆ﾟ

4,000 followers! enjoy this lil idea as a thank you. i appreciate you!

You. Needed. Affection.

Just affection, and loads of it from one person in specific. Mostly because you were pretending to be mad at him and it made you miss him even more. Chan rarely makes you mad, he’s always good about communicating and listening, so the fact that you were mad at him and he didn’t even know why threw him off a little.

So there you were, sat on the couch wrapped in one of his hoodies eating straight out of the ice cream tub because you were too upset to do anything but count the seconds until he got home. You weren’t answering his texts, you picked up his call because you accidentally pressed the wrong button out of muscle memory and Chan could tell through the phone that today was just not a good day.

When he came home and found you sitting in the same spot that you were in when he called you– he knew this because you described it exactly as it looked, Chan almost collapsed at how cute you were. You had this ruffle in your brow and his hoodie looked like it was threatening to drown you in the black material. Gnawing on the spoon, your chest rumbled a little as Chan smiled his dimply smile and reached for the tub of ice cream to take away. “You doing okay, baby?” He chuckled trying to pop the spoon out of your mouth, wriggling it back and forth and swaying your head until you decided to let go.

“No, I’m mad at you,” there wasn’t much bite to the statement.

Chan pecked your forehead and ventured off to put the ice cream away, “oh yeah? Wanna tell me why so I can fix it?” He returned to stand behind you and lean over the back of the couch, wrapping his arms around your neck and nuzzling his cheek into the top of your head.

Upset but still wanting the physical touch, you pulled his arms tighter, “dream you cheated on me.”

He popped his head around the side of yours to come face to face with a look of genuine shock. “Did he?!” Chan hopped over the back of the couch to sit next to you.

“Yeah. I caught you in our bed and everything. Then you broke up with me and posted the bitch on your instagram the next day.” You huffed and pushed him away with no force, turning to lean on the armrest and lay your legs over his lap. Chan rested his head on your knees, looking at you with his big puppy dog eyes that never failed to make you melt.

“I thought I taught him better than that,” he gently scolded. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. Is that why you didn’t kiss me back when I left this morning?

You nodded. “And why you weren’t answering my texts?” Another nod. “And why you can’t look at me because you know how ridiculous that sounds?”

You were half way through nodding for a third time when you caught his words, “hey! It’s not ridiculous! It could be a premonition, I could be psychic and get into fortune telling with how accurate I am.”

Chan closed his eyes and let his hands wander up and down your calves, lightly dragging his lips across the bare skin of your knees as he spoke, “mhm, mhm. Or it means that it’s never gonna come true. I like to think that, instead.”

It was getting harder to be mad when the feeling of his breath fanning over your skin made goosebumps rise, he loved watching the way your body reacted to him. It was never hard for him to work you up, physically and emotionally. Chan thrived on the effect he has over you, but it’s a two way street and you live for the way he’d do anything to please you. Even if it means apologizing for something he didn’t really do. In this reality, at least.

You wanted to be mad so bad that you debated on throwing him off you entirely, however his lips were just too plush looking and you craved to feel them on your own. Chan took his time to work them higher up your legs, eventually laying them and sticking his head under the hem of his hoodie you wore. He tugged you to lay flat so he could have more area to trace his pretty lips cross, the thoughts of being upset almost totally dissipating under his touch. Your leg instantly wrapped around his torso, to which he grinded lightly into the cushion. His hair tickled your bare chest as he peppers kisses across your belly, hands roaming your back to keep you near. He didn’t move as sexually as one might’ve thought from an outside perspective, it wasn’t to get into your nonexistent pants, you just got him so horny.

So horny to the point where he would’ve kept grinding against the couch if you didn’t feel like relieving him, he would’ve taken it like a champ if you denied him. You never do, though, as if you had the impulse control to ever tell him no.

Chan kept his movements slow, intentional, with the purpose of getting you to relax and see how much he loves you and how much an asshole dream-him was for cheating on dream-you. Big hands moved down to cup your ass under the fabric of your underwear, teething lightly above your belly button then soothing over the bite with his fat tongue. The wet muscle laved over the sore spots with the tip of his tongue, then flattening it, the tip, then flat again, alternating like he would if it were your pussy and were trying to get you to cum.

You wanted that, you always wanted his tongue on you. But now, you needed this more. The closeness and being able to keep him where only you can love and appreciate.

It felt so stupid to even be thinking that way, stupid that you had pulled such childish acts instead of just telling him in the first place. If you had just asked to be coddled, he would’ve given it to you without a second thought.

Chan needed this as much as you did, little to your knowledge. He could feel how off you were in the morning but really just didn’t have the time to fix it at that moment. It stung his heart hearing what dream-him did to dream-you, he couldn’t possibly imagine putting you through that, let alone move on so quickly if you ever were to actually break up.

No, he couldn’t even bear the thought of leaving you, it hurt too much.

His heart hurt for you, he could see the pain all over your face when he got home and it wasn’t even real life. Chan would rather die than ever let you go through something like that in this reality. In your dreams, well, there isn’t much he can do other than what he’s doing now.

Leaving chaste kisses anywhere along your torso he could, massaging your ass with his nimble fingers while heavily breathing in the scent of your skin. The quiet moans you were trying to suppress made him smile, able to feel your muscles tightening and loosening beneath his fingertips. He felt so warm against you, you wanted to thread your fingers through his hair and tried to from over the hoodie. Chan mumbled incoherently in protest and tugged the hem over his head again when you tried to tug it up.

“Wanna be close to you,” he murmured, going back to rubbing his cheek to your belly. You could only giggle and let him.

This was just Chan. Just purely and entirely him. Doing nothing and everything at the same time and making you melt into the palm of his hand, you’d forgotten why you were mad until he spoke again.

“Can’t believe I’d do that,” the barrier of material made it hard to hear him.

“Hm?” You hummed.

He slithered a little higher up your chest and you pulled the neckline to peak down into the dark shadows of the hoodie. You could see just one of his pretty brown eyes peering up at you sweetly, “who in their right mind would do that to you?”

Chan rested his cheek on your chest and stayed there, arms enclosing around your torso. “Dream-you did. And it really sucked.”

He whined this time, higher in pitch and wiggling to get comfortable. Your head back against the couch, you closed your eyes and let yourself calm down before you got worked up again. Chan could hear your heartbeat speed up, placing another soft kiss to the skin above it. You shivered and draped your arms over the back of his shoulders to succumb entirely to the feeling. Just as you finally relaxed, warmth engulfed your left nipple, wet and hot and being suckled into his mouth like a pacifier. “I’m trying really hard to be mad,” you admit while smiling to yourself, out of his field of vision.

“Please, don’t be,” he pleaded, “I’ll never hurt you. I’ll destroy anyone who tries.” It sounded silly coming from his mouth considering it was full of your tit, you couldn’t help a gentle laugh.

A few more moments of him playing with your breast, then switching to the other with no regard for the wet sounds that emitted from his suckling, you couldn’t take not seeing him anymore. You sat up as much as he’d let you and tucked your arms into the body of the hoodie, pulling your head through the neckline just enough so that the two of you were pressed chest to chest under the material.

It was dark and hot, you weren’t sure how he was able to stand being underneath it for so long. You couldn’t totally see him, but you knew he was looking at you– or at least, attempting to. You felt for his cheeks and held him just millimeters away, feeling his calm breathing over your chin. In almost total darkness, unable to see but could feel each other entirely, he whispered, “you’re safe with me. You’ll always be safe with me.”

You pulled him into you, savoring the fragile way he always tended to kiss you when you were particularly emotional, scared as if he’d break you. Handle with care, your heart said, and he did just that and more. Delicate. Do not touch, written outside the glass case he envisioned you in whenever something went even remotely in the opposite direction you wanted. It wasn’t that you needed the protection, by no means were you unable to handle yourself, but you invoked something in him that he couldn’t control. Fortunately for him, you let him smother you and baby you and wrap you in bubble wrap so tight you couldn’t breathe because it felt good to be seen. It felt good to be loved, and loved by him.

It was getting more and more difficult not to rut your hips against him, any part of him because he made you that insatiable. Chan could feel you trying to restrain and laughed against your lips.

“What if I want you to break me?” He glitched for a second, then went back to kissing you with a little more intensity.

“Then, I’ll just have to put you together again.” You ripped the hoodie away, leaving you naked in his hold aside from the underwear you were soaking through. “And break you, put you together again, and again, and again until you’re begging for me to stop.”

You felt the wave of butterflies flutter right between your legs and caved.

“Fuck– take me to the bedroom.”

Chan stood just to throw you over his shoulder effortlessly, entirely too excited for either of your own good. It wasn’t until now that you noticed he was still in those uncomfortably tight jeans he left in this morning, your mouth watered at the timely prospect of getting him out of them. You just couldn’t stop yourself from sending a light smack to his ass as he walked through the bedroom door, and he reciprocated with an even harder one to the bare skin of your own.

He laid you down gently just to cover your body with his own once again, not letting you strip him without your tongues laving against one another's. His shirt came off first, tossing it towards the headboard, your underwear, then his pants. Chan stopped you from reaching for his underwear so he could tease you, barely tugging the elastic down his hips and letting his erection catch in the fabric until he finally let it slap against his lower belly erotically.

Chan let them fall to the floor before kneeling tall onto the bed, “turn around,” he instructed. You followed and faced the headboard, seeing him reach around for his discarded shirt. Just barely could you feel his hot breath against your neck, “are you sure this is what you want tonight, baby?”

You hummed with desperation, “break me. Lovingly, please.”

Leaving a small peck to your cheek for reassurance, Chan grabbed your arms harshly and brought them behind your back. He used his forgotten shirt as a makeshift restraint, keeping you bound and tied up with no way of being able to touch him, you wondered what it was he had in store that required it.

Once he finished he sat opposite of you, falling on his back and watching the process of your mouth watering over seeing him in the perfect cock-sucking position. The redness of his tip, you would’ve thought it was painful if you didn’t know better. No, that’s a lie– it was painful. Painful watching you be so pretty and worked up and he was fighting the urge with everything in him not to untie you and lay you in the sheets like the pillow princess you so rarely got to be.

But it wasn’t what you wanted. What you wanted was to not think, be serviced and be of service, used to please. Tonight needed to end with you feeling weightless and not an ounce of sadness or anger left lingering to be found.

“Break you lovingly?” Chan called, tucking an arm under his head while the other stroked himself slowly. He swiped the bead of precum, beckoning you over with a single finger and forcing his thumb past your lips to taste. You hummed at the salty bitterness, the weight of him on your tongue and could feel yourself salivating. “Which do you want first, doll? Break you, or love you?”

Judging from the way you were practically drooling down his wrist, he took your lack of response as the former.

Stealing his thumb away, a thread of spit following, Chan laid back down and put both hands behind his head. “Go ahead. Be a good doll and suck.”

You folded so fast that it made him chuckle with pride knowing you were wanting him as much as he wanted you. Licking and twirling your tongue around the tip like hard candy, taking in as much of him as possible. Your own spit dripped down your chin and filled your mouth like a perfect hole.

Chan started to stutter up into you the further down you went. The more of him you took in, the harder it got not to thrust up. By the time you’d gotten to the point of lightly gagging, he was biting his lip to keep from losing all control. But then you looked up at him, eyes big and watery, tears already rolling down your cheek and you couldn’t even wipe it away. Nope, all self control completely obliterated by that single look. That fucking look, Chan physically felt his chest cave like crumbling sand between his fingers.

“I’ll fucking break you, baby. Don't worry your pretty little head, I��ll make you forget.” You couldn’t reply with his thick cock in your mouth, but could see you approve with the little nods you managed to give. “Be a good cocksleeve, yeah? Make me feel good.”

You took him as deep as you could, stilled as soon as your nose hit his pelvis and thought that was good enough since he groaned, loud and deep from within his chest. But you looked up at him again, this time just as the tears fell from your lash line. Chan tangled both hands in your hair and hooked his legs over your shoulders, cock still buried down your throat. He locked his ankles around the back of your head and pushed himself that much deeper to get you to gag harder. The sound that he emitted resembled that of a bear, hearty, unrestrained, feeling.

Oh, how he felt you. Felt the constricting of your throat around him, felt your tongue fighting to make room for you to breathe and failing, felt your tears wet the skin of his pelvis. Nothing but your safe word could have stopped him from pulling you off his cock for a split second to inhale a deep breath, then shoving you back down to abuse your throat like it was just a toy. For now, you were just a toy– his toy.

Lewd and adulterous squelching of your mouth slicking up and down his cock filled the room, overridden just by Chan’s moans of pleasure and your light humming to vibrate up his shaft. He was kind for a few moments– as kind as he could have been in this position, and eventually gave up seeing as you could still fight back. His lazy pushes and pulls of guiding your head up and down turned into him rutting up into your mouth in quick jabs, utilizing the headlock he had you in as leverage to move at what could have been neck breaking speed. His hands held you firmly in place as Chan did all the work now, focused on nothing but his own pleasure as your tears and spit mixed to puddle around his throbbing cock.

You were a gagging, crying mess and you loved every second. So much so that you spread your knees and tried to rub your puffy clit into the bunched up sheets. A few more upthrusts of his tip hitting the back of your throat, Chan let you go entirely. Without the stability of him holding you up, your weak body tilted to the side as you gasped for air, hips slightly twitching from the immense need built up.

He took a second to regain his composure while you caught your breath. Chest still heaving up and down, Chan forgot that your hands were still tied, wondering why you weren’t jumping his bones the second he let you free. Sitting up, he tilted his head at you with a sympathetic smile, “sweet doll, I haven’t even done anything to you yet. Anything left in here?” He mockingly tapped the side of your temple, to which it went unacknowledged. You just wanted him on you again, whining and trying to wriggle closer to him. “Hm, guess not. Did my job, didn’t I? Didn’t take very much effort, baby. You love me that much? Or you’re just a cockhungry doll.”

Through the soreness in your jaw, you managed to whisper, “l–love you.”

Chan chuckled, “I know you do. Love my sweet doll, too.” He leaned over to kiss your forehead, ignoring the way you puckered your lips for more. Chan manhandled you to the center of the bed, keeping you on your side with arms still restricted from touching.

There was nothing you could do but let him do what he wanted with you, but this was the lovingly part. This, although bound on your end, was where he showed you everything he couldn’t tell you. This was the putting you back together part, the safe with me part, the dream-me can go fuck himself because you deserve the best dicking down ever part.

And could you tell that’s what all of this was? Absolutely. Could you do anything about it? Not a chance. You couldn’t touch him, couldn’t form coherent sentences, couldn’t do anything but babble love you, love you, and more love you’s.

Chan pushed your hair from your sweaty forehead, memorizing your features for just a second before he lost himself again. Then straightening out your bottom leg for him to straddle while resting the top in the crook of his arm and aligning his cock at your entrance, just teasing your clit with the tip and spreading the perpetually leaking beads of cum. He would dip into your hole, hear you whimper, then pull away and do it all over again to keep you in a constant state of frustrated that he wouldn’t just fuck you already.

It was because fucking you wasn’t what he wanted, he hated calling it that. If it were anyone but you, calling sloppy sex for what it is wouldn’t have bothered him. But you weren’t just anyone, he wouldn’t dare call you anything less than what you deserved and that applied in the bedroom as well. That was, of course, aside from when you truly asked for it.

Even the sloppiest of sex with you wouldn’t be classified as just fucking. He felt every inch of you in every single one of his nerve endings, in his veins, pumping the blood through his heart straight down to the tip of his cock. Chan felt a little dumb just looking at you, like he’d lost his mind at the mere scent of your arousal, he felt like a lovesick puppy and if you’d ever decide to leave him, he’d die of a broken heart.

God, he loves you. He said it as he finally pushed into your pulsing, wet hole. He said it as he came to the hilt, he said it as he slipped the bondage off your wrists, as he grabbed your hand to hold and as he began to lazily thrust in and out, searching for the spot that would make you cry so hard you’ll pass out as soon as you cum.

And you did cry, not just from how good you felt physically but because even if he wasn’t mindlessly telling you how much he loved you, you could see it in the way he looked at you. He wasn’t looking anywhere but your face, straight into your eyes in a stare so intense it should’ve been uncomfortable. It was anything but, you shed a tear every time you blinked to see him still looking at you like he was sure you were the last thing he’d ever see.

God, you love him. You said it as your hand held his for dear life, as he pummeled the soft spot within you that made you see stars through the tears, you said it as you were curling your toes and arching your back at an unholy angle. You said it as coherently as possible as the butterflies in your belly swept you into a whirlwind of pleasure, as you milked him for everything he had, as you came back down to earth somehow laying on his chest and not at all in the same position as when the orgasm hit.

Gentle beating of his heart in his chest stirred you from the light daze you had fallen into, you don’t even remember doing it. “Hey there,” his chest rumbled. Chan kissed the top of your head, your forehead, then moved to lay your head in the pillows so he could kiss your lips.

As he tucked your hair behind your ear, you finally got to brush your fingers through his curls, so soft and pretty. His eyes closed as your nails raked across his scalp, letting his forehead fall against yours. The rumbling of his chest made you smile, “you purr like a cat,” you said through the sore scratch in your throat.

“Cats ward off evil. Real me is shooing away the nightmares for good. Let me purr.” Chan let you tug his head against his chest with a content him falling from your lips, where his purring turned into soft snores as the exhaustion finally hit him.

☆ﾟ

tags: @sensitiveandhungry @babebatter @changbinluvr @epiphanynaffit @fawnpeaks @linovely @dumplinbokkieracha @finnydraws @naturules @djeniryuu @hamburgers101 @skzhomiehopper @yesv01 @hyunjinsamdl @dazzlingligth @lvrhyuka @alexis-reads-fics @linaliskz @0002linoskitten @chillichillicrabcrab23 @zerefdragn33l @straycrescent @binnies-donuts @soldierstangirl-blog @bakedlilgoonie @levanterlily @shelbyyy44 @yeetmehome @in2heartz @astroodledream @the-sweetest-rose @goblinracha @lilbugs-things @viviennenstan @staurdvst @alex--awesome--22 @imzenning @jeyelleohe @iadorethemskz @skyvastbunny @mamabymychem @katsukis1wife @woozarts @noellllslut

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aurorawritestoescape · 4 months

Text

BAD BLOOD part 5

Pairing: step-uncle Joel Miller x f!reader x stepdad Tommy Miller

Summary: the one with a late night visit, a hot breakfast and a surprise from Joel.

Tw: 18+ mdni, smut, step-cest, big age gap (reader is 22, Joel and Tommy are in their late and mid-40s), dark!Joel, dark!reader, mfm, unprotected piv (wrap it up), cockwarming, rough!Joel, Tommy is sweet (for now), somno, f/m oral, face slapping (2), creampies, cum eating, degradation, praise kink, daddy kink, fingering, exhibitionism, masturbation, swearing. Reader has hair that can be pulled. Tommy can pick up reader. The pics are for the mood only. Reader has no specific physical descriptions.

Word count: 5,8k

A/n: I’m so excited to share this part with you all! It’s filthy and even sweet at times, until it’s not😅 Big thanks to @milla-frenchy for holding my hand, hyping me up and beta-ing this depravity😘Thank YOU ALL for your interest in this story!🥹 Hope you enjoy it as much as I did writing it. Love you all💖

Part 4 || SERIES MASTERLIST || Part 6 || MASTERLIST

*****

You feel ticklish, when a warm breath fans the inside of your thigh. In a second soft lips kiss your pussy and a hot tongue delves between your folds. Your back arches from the sudden pleasure and you open your eyes.

You’re lying naked in the middle of the table in the dining room, where your stepdad Tommy ate you out, while your step-uncle Joel watched.

You look down and see Tommy’s head between your thighs. He glances up and gives you a playful wink, before diving back into your pussy. He’s sucking on your clit and you’re softly moaning, while fruitlessly trying to gather your thoughts and remember if your mother is at home or not.

You’re drowning in pleasure but suddenly you hear a growl behind you. Scared to death you hastily tilt your head back and to your surprise find Joel sitting at the head of the table. With confusion you see that he’s eating a steak. He’s stabbing his fork and knife into the meat, loudly cutting it while watching his brother having another type of meal.

What the fuck? You try to say but can’t. Rage begins bubbling in your stomach, tinting the pleasure Tommy’s giving you. ‘Why is he just sitting there? Why is he only watching? Arrogant motherfucker!’

Joel seems to notice your anger, because the next moment he leaves the fork and knife on the plate and gets up. Planting his hands on the wooden surface of the table, he leans forward and his face hovers over yours.

Your eyes lock for a few moments before Tommy plunges his tongue inside your crying hole and you gasp. Joel smiles, then leans closer and kisses you.

He’s gentle and soft, a stark contrast to his behavior when you spent a night together. His tongue tangles with yours while Tommy licks deep into you, gathering your arousal and drinking it, humming with satisfaction against your pussy.

You’re in heaven for a few seconds until you hear your mother’s voice. Your heart drops and you wake up.

You’re in your bedroom and the moon is peaking through a crack in the drapes. You’re breathing heavily, trying to calm down, as your heart is about to jump out of your chest. Suddenly a realization hits you that not everything from the dream dissolved into the reality. You still feel the lips, caressing your pussy. After hastily throwing off the blanket, you see Tommy devouring your cunt, his hands holding your thighs open while his mouth applies light suction to your hardened clit.

“Tommy,” you half whisper-half moan and he parts from your pussy and raises his head.

“Hey, baby. I’ll be right up,” you hear him whisper, before he gets back to work.

You look around the room, calming down bit by bit, and then put your head back on the pillow. You smile to yourself, thinking that the reality is almost as enjoyable as your dream.

You’re so close to the climax, your whole body vibrates, and when your stepdad rubs your clit with the flat of his tongue a few times, you’re already wriggling on the bed while euphoria is coursing through your body. You’re breathing out Tommy’s name and he laps up your juices and when his ministrations start hurting, you slightly push him away and he climbs up your body.

Soon he’s kissing you and you whimper, tasting yourself on his lips. You can’t get enough of each other, making out, while he’s lying on top of you. He starts slowly grinding his clothed crotch against the apex of your thighs and you feel him hard and big on your naked pussy.

“You’re back,” you whisper, when he parts from you.

After her weekend away, Jess took hold of Tommy and you haven’t seen him for a whole day. You haven’t seen Joel either, which was on purpose. You avoided him as hard as you could, having spent the whole day at your friend's place. You were trying to decide what to do next.

Joel wanted you to ruin Tommy’s marriage by sending the recording of their conversation to your mother. But after that night, you started to feel pity for your stepdad, especially after he asked you to delete the audio. He promised that you’d continue fucking and that was exactly what you had ever wanted from the plan. So you avoided Joel, hoping that he’d leave for Austin soon and your stepdad and you would sneak around to fuck any chance you got.

“Hope I didn’t scare you. Couldn’t help myself. You are so hot when you’re sleeping, sweetheart.”

Tommy kisses you again and you're practically melting in his arms.

“Fuck me, daddy,” you whine and he growls.

“When you put it this way, I can’t say no,” he whispers, getting up to sit on his heels between your thighs.

He looks down at your naked pussy and swirls your clit with his thumb, making you jerk from the sensitivity. You ask him quietly,

“Where’re my shorts?”

“Took ‘em off. Was careful not to wake you”, he replies with a wink, his eyes glinting with mischief in the moonlight.

You whine, as your core burns harder because of his words.

He frees his cock and it bobs over your waiting pussy. Your legs part, inviting him in, and he doesn’t make you wait. Tommy slides his cock into your already soaked cunt with a soft ‘yeah’, digging his fingers into your thighs and you echo him with a moan.

“Quiet, sweetheart,” he reminds you and whispers, “Fucking love your pussy. ‘s the best.” You feel flattered at the same time driving away the thought of who he’s comparing you with.

He starts pushing his cock in and out of your cunt, his moves slow and thorough. Tommy takes your ankle and puts it on his shoulder, while pressing your other thigh down, opening you up to him completely.

Even in the darkness of the room you see his cock glisten with your slick every time he pulls it out of your sopping cunt. His thumb is on your clit again and you cry out with the added pleasure, and he quickly shushes you,

“Shh, you don’t want anyone interrupting us, right, baby?”

You shake your head and when his finger returns to your throbbing bud, you whimper against the back of your hand, trying to be discreet.

For a few minutes it’s just this—him fucking you as you’re watching.

“Sweetheart,” Tommy murmurs and your gaze slides up from his cock, pounding your pussy, to his beautiful face. He’s smirking.

“Would you want Joel to be here with us?”

“No, I love being alone with you,” you whisper back, and he laughs.

“Your pussy clenched on me so hard when I said my brother's name,” Tommy says and slightly bites your ankle. “Don’t lie to me when I have my cock in you like this. She’ll always tell me the truth.”

You smile back at him.

“My pussy is a slut. But my heart—There’s only you.” You’re not sure if you’re lying or not but you know that this is what he wants to hear.

“Fuck, little minx”. Tommy breathes out and picks up the pace. You bite your lower lip, trying to keep quiet, and squeeze your eyes shut, enjoying the way his big cock massages your walls.

“Bet you’d love to suck him off right now. Or have him in your ass. You need all your holes stuffed, right, baby?”

“Yes, daddy,” all you could manage to say while he’s relentlessly railing you.

“What if we plug all your holes, sweetheart?”

“Oh, fuck, yes,” you purr, feeling your core tighten.

“We can easily find a third guy. Anyone would be willing to fuck you, baby.”

The image of three men claiming your holes intoxicates you and you whimper, “really?”

“Yeah, sure,” Tommy says through heavy panting, “I don’t have anyone in mind here but in Austin— Joel surely knows someone who can gangbang you with us.”

You moan and he grunts, trying not to be too loud, but your pussy is too good to enjoy it quietly. His sounds make you clench even more and in no time you’re coming on his stiff cock, mouth open in a silent scream, back arched.

When your climax subsides, Tommy keeps going, rolling his hips deep and hard.

“Where, honey?” He asks with a little moan.

“Inside. Want your cum. Please, daddy.”

“Good girl.”

As soon as he praises you, he erupts into your wet heat, and you feel his warm seed kiss your walls and slide out of your hole, while he’s drawing pleasure from your cunt.

Tommy stills and gently pulls his cock out. He splays his palm on your lower belly, slightly rubbing your skin and asks,

“Do you feel me here?”

“Yes, it’s warm. I’m so full,” you mumble, putting your hand over his.

He whispers ‘good’ with a little smile and lies down next to you.

Your stepdad pulls you close and kisses you. You wish he’d never stop, never leave your bed. You fall asleep, happy and satisfied, on his broad shoulder.

*****

When you wake up, Tommy’s gone and you lie in bed, remembering the night before. You still sense your stepdad's hands, sliding over your body, his mouth on your pussy, his cock buried deep inside your burning core. You throw your blanket off, feeling hot and horny. You’re naked from your waist down and your pussy is still wet. Your needy cunt makes you bring your hand to your tingling center and you lightly trace the edges of your slicked up hole. Then you push a finger inside and pull it out completely wet with Tommy’s cum.

“Oh, fuck,” you breathe out and get more of his load from your leaking entrance. Then you swirl your clit, using Tommys cum as lube, and every nerve in your body lights up. You moan louder than last night, rubbing your throbbing clit, soaking the sheets with your sweat. As soon as you imagine Tommy’s tongue on your twitching bud, you come undone, limbs shaking, pussy clenching around nothing.

When you calm down, trembling legs carry you to the shower.

***

Before going downstairs you stick your head out of the bedroom door and listen. You hear Jess’s annoying voice downstairs, so Tommy must be there too. Wearing your slutty pjs - your stepdad’s favorite, and a crop top, you head downstairs, your hair still wet from the shower. You find your lover at the kitchen table, yawning and listening to your mom with a blank stare.

“Slept badly, Tommy?” you tease him, walking up to the table and taking a seat next to him.

At first he beams, seeing you, but quickly makes his face serious in the presence of your mother.

“I slept like a log,” your mom says and you smile to yourself, thanking her for it.

You grab a toast and nibble on it, just enjoying Tommy’s presence and trying hard to tune Jess out.

Her yapping about something stupid and boring is soon interrupted by a door ring.

“It must be Cindy,” she says, getting up and leaving the room.

As soon as she’s out, your hand flies to Tommy’s thigh.

“Is she leaving?” You ask, rubbing his leg with a devilish smile.

His breath hitches and you notice that he matches your excitement, judging by the bulge in his sweatpants.

“Yeah. Be patient, baby.” He takes your hand and moves it from his thigh up on the table. He’s trying to keep his composure but his blown eyes, sliding over your body, tell you that he’s as desperate as you’re.

You turn to the door, hearing your mom’s steps, and to your disappointment, see Joel following her into the kitchen. He’s wearing a low cut shirt that exposes his sexy chest and a pair of tight jeans, accentuating his huge package. As always he looks like a slut.

An involuntary ‘fuck!’ escapes your lips and you drop your gaze, trying to appear invisible to the man you’ve been avoiding.

Apparently Joel has heard you, because he comes up to you and kisses the top of your head.

“Happy to see you too, sweet niece,” he rasps and you jerk away from his lips but gush anyway, remembering him fucking your ass just a day ago.

He pats Tommy on the shoulder and goes to pour himself a cup of coffee. Jess is visibly displeased by his visit.

“You three have a nice morning. Cindy and I are going to Madison’s. Jack is leaving her for a 20 year old bitch. Can you imagine?”

“Maybe they’re in love,” you say, raising your brows, and your mom scoffs. Tommy glances at you, his gaze is full of warmth and affection, and you answer it with a little smile.

“Good for him,” Joel booms behind you and Tommy nervously squeezes his coffee mug.

You turn back to the older man, glaring at him, scared he might say something about your relationship with Tommy. He’s leaning against the counter with a coffee mug in hand.

“You shouldn’t be surprised, Jessica,” Joel continues, “men are not meant to be monogamous. It’s nature. They will always want someone younger and hotter.”

Jess rolls her eyes at him and you can’t help but follow her suit.

“They can be if they meet the right person,” you dispute and he smirks.

“Yes, angel, until they meet the next right person.”

He laughs and you’re boring your eyes into the man. Soon your staring contest is interrupted by Jess, saying that her friend is here.

Tommy goes to see her off and as soon as Joel and you are left alone, you get up and try to sneak out of the room as soon as possible.

You’re almost at the door, when a rough hand grabs your arm, unceremoniously spins you around and pins you to the fridge.

“Not so fast, missy,” Joel growls and your stomach drops, “Ya ghostin’ me, girl?” He presses you with his hips into the hard surface of the fridge and you feel his soft cock, which is still huge, against your lower belly and fire ignites in your core. You hate him but you can’t deny the pull he has on you. His scent, his body, his dominance overwhelms you and you get wet and push your thighs together.

You try to wiggle your way out but he’s too strong and big.

“What? No, Joel. I was just busy.”

“Doin’ what? Being a cum dumpster for my little brother?”

You avert your eyes and he chuckles, nodding his head, before bringing his face closer to yours.

“I need you to get his dick out of your mind for a second and do what you promised me. Send the fuckin’ recording to Jess. Now!” He roars and fear grips your heart and at the same time makes your arousal spike. You use all your strength not to moan. You need to stop thinking with your pussy for a second, need to concentrate, so you take a deep breath and try to reason with him.

“Joel, listen. I can’t do it now. I still have to live here for a week. Do you think she’ll be ok with me after she hears the recording? She’d hate me. Even more than now. I really don’t wanna be here for that shit show.”

You make your cutest pleading face and beg, “Please. I’ll send it as soon as I leave for college. I promise, Joel.”

His piercing stare under the furrowed brows makes your stomach churn, but you try to seem calm. After a few moments of consideration, Joel’s face softens and he slightly pulls away. He’s still very close and your chest brushes his, when you shift on your feet.

“ ‘k. But as soon as you’re out of ‘ere, send it. I’m tired of waitin’.”

“Yes, Joel.” You’re batting your lashes at him, feigning obedience and hiding the excitement that you just got yourself a week of fun times with your stepdad. Feeling bolder, you lower your gaze to Joel’s lips and a memory of him kissing you flashes in your mind. You crave having his mouth on yours. And more than that.

As if reading your mind, Joel leans to your face and his lips brush your cheek.

“Missed me, baby?”

Your breath hitches and he smirks, “ ‘s what I thought. Tommy may keep your pussy full but we both know how much ya want this cock.”

He bucks his hips into you and a new surge of arousal makes you throb.

Joel’s lips kiss your cheek and then get lower as he latches on your neck, immediately sucking a hickey into your delicate skin, while his hands grab your ass and he pins you to the fridge again.

Yet now you don’t want to escape, to run from him, you welcome his mouth, marking your neck, his hands, getting under your shorts and kneading your ass. He’s groaning, as his lips travel up to your mouth and you readily open yours, welcoming his tongue inside. The kiss is heady, sloppy and hot. He tastes like black coffee, cigarettes and something so uniquely Joel, you can’t get enough of it. Of him.

Your pussy cries to be touched, so you start grinding your mound on his stiff crotch and he smiles against your lips.

“Knew ya hungry for uncle’s dick, little slut.”

You’re not wearing any panties, and when his hand slides under your shorts, he grabs a handful of your tingling pussy, making you gasp into his mouth.

“Fuck, angel, is it all for me or is it Tommy’s cum dripping out?”

You don’t have time to reply, before he pushes two fingers into your soaked hole, and you gasp from the sensation, grabbing his massive arms.

Joel starts fucking your pussy in a steady rhythm, pushing his fingers in and out and rubbing your bud with his thick thumb.

Suddenly he grabs your throat and lightly squeezes it, his hot palm sending chills down your spine.

“I asked you a question, angel.”

“Fuck you, perv,” you bite back with a smirk, as your whole body is revelling in bliss from his hands on your pussy and throat. Joel’s nostrils flare but he smiles. You both know the rules of the game you’re playing. You love when he’s rough with you as much as you love Tommy doting on his precious stepdaughter.

Your heart drops, when you hear footsteps, and you freeze, while Joel is nonchalantly keeps fucking you with his fingers. To your relief, you see Tommy walking into the room and after a surprised ‘the fuck?’ he comes up to you two.

You slightly turn your head to him, Joel’s hand on your throat still keeping you in place. Your stepdad’s expression, worried at first, gets softer when he sees your hazy eyes and parted lips and he gives you a warm smile.

“Enjoying yourself, sweetheart?” Tommy asks, while Joel is shamelessly working your cunt.

“Yeah, Daddy,” you whine and Joel chuckles.

“She’s still full of your cum, Tommy. Ya played with her tonight?”

“Yeah,” Tommy replies in a proud voice, “filled her up good. Right, sweetheart?”

You try to nod, which is difficult, as Joel is holding you by the throat.

Tommy bends down and yanks your shorts down, until they pool at your feet. He plants his elbow on the fridge next to you and tilts his head to the side, watching Joel’s glistening fingers slide in and out of your needy hole.

You feel your orgasm coming up and whine a pathetic ‘daddy.’

“Yeah, sweetheart, let it go. Wanna see your pretty face, when you come.” Your stepdad leans closer and kisses you. Joel’s hand lightly squeezes your throat and you breathe in Tommy's air. The hard bulges of your stepdad and step uncle, snugly pressed to your body, Joel’s hands, Tommy’s lips make you throb and you cry out, as your climax sets you ablaze.

“Good girl,” Joel mumbles while Tommy’s kissing you on top of your high. You’re whimpering into his mouth, your pussy squelching, still being finger fucked by Joel. Tommy parts from your lips and watches your face twist in pleasure.

When your orgasm dissipates, Joel pulls out his digits, coated in your creamy cum, and brings them to your mouth.

“Clean up your mess, angel.”

You do as you’re told, licking and slurping on his thick fingers, while his hungry eyes are watching your every move. When you’re done, he pulls them out and grabs your breast.

“Time for your second breakfast.”

He unzips his jeans and you see his cock spring out. His fat tip is glistening and you lick your lips.

Joel chuckles and goes to the table. He sits down on one of the chairs, manspreading and holding his throbbing length in his hand.

Tommy steps up to you and hugs you, his hands quickly finding their way to your bare ass and squeezing your cheeks in his big palms. You nuzzle his neck, leaning on his broad chest after the hard orgasm.

“C’mon, angel. My cock won’t suck itself,” Joel’s gruff voice breaks the silence of the room.

Tommy pulls away, takes your chin between his fingers and tilts your head up to face him.

“Do you wanna sit on my cock and blow your uncle, baby?”

These depraved words coming from your stepdad, your mother’s husband, make your head spin with lust. You’d do anything for him right now. For both of them.

“Yes, please, daddy,” you whimper and he leads you to the table. Mugs and plates are still left on its surface, making the situation hotter for some reason.

Tommy sits in the chair next to Joel and pulls his gray sweatpants down. They’re already stained with precum and when he takes his cock out, you see it weeping for you.

Joel gets your attention with a slap on your bare ass, growling, “Can’t even suck a dick without your daddy stuffing ya? Needy little slut. Fuckin’ whipped.”

“Don’t be jealous, Joel,” you purr, standing between two men half naked, your inner thighs glistening with your cum in the bright morning light.

“It’s his pussy, but you get to have my mouth and ass which is too generous on my part. You should be grateful.”

“Oh, I am, angel. Let me show you how grateful I am by fuckin’ your pretty face.”

With that he gets up and lays his heavy hand on your shoulder.

“C’mon, time to sit on your daddy’s cock,” he chuckles, and you’re enjoying how impatient he is to feel your mouth.

You get between Tommy’s legs, your back to him and after planting your hand on the table, start lowering your hips. Your stepdad guides you with his hands on your waist and soon you feel his tip nudge at your sopping hole.

With Joel’s cock bobbing in front of your face, you start sinking on Tommy’s length. Your languid moan fills the kitchen as you take him deeper and deeper. Joel’s hand on your shoulder pushes you roughly down and you sit on your stepdad’s cock with a gasp.

“Joel, be gentle,” Tommy scolds his brother and you look up at Joel with a triumphant smile.

Tommy pulls you closer to his torso while your pussy is adjusting to his thickness. He's pulsating inside you as your cunt gushes around his girthy length.

Joel doesn’t give you time to revel in the sensation. He grabs you by the hair, tight but not hurting you, and pulls your face closer to his cock.

His fat wet tip hits your lips and you look up at him with defiance, not taking it in your mouth. You want it, but the opportunity to make him boil is too delicious to miss.

“Can I slap this bitch, brother?” Joel asks Tommy, not tearing his eyes off your smug face.

“I asked you to be gentle, Joel,” Tommy scolds him but your ears perk up.

“But I want it, daddy,” you whine, your lips brushing Joel’s velvet head.

“ ‘k then.”

As soon as Tommy says it, Joel's palm harshly lands on your cheek and you grab the side of the table as your head sways to the left. Tommy’s hands grip your hips harder as he growls,

“Fuck, you do really love it, baby. Your little pussy clenching me so hard.”

“Yeah,” you whimper, rubbing your cheek, while Joel’s fist is still clenching your hair. The slap burns a little and you love it.

“Anytime, angel, we all know you deserve it. Now open your fuckin’ mouth,” Joel commands and you do it with a content gaze.

He pushes his throbbing cock between your lips, and you taste his salty precum. You suck on his head, cockwarming your stepdad.

Your hands are planted on Joel’s hips for stability and you take him deeper into your hot mouth until his tip hits your throat.

“Oh, yeah, angel. Ain’t ya happy I finally let you suck on my dick?”

You hum around his cock and both men chuckle.

“I think it’s a ‘yes’”, Tommy chuckles as his hands squeeze your thighs, then glide up over your belly and then pull your top up. He gently kneads your naked tits, as your whimpers are muffled by your step uncle’s fat cock.

You begin bobbing your head up and down, lips curled over your teeth, saliva dripping down your chin, sliding down to his balls. You try to keep your gaze focused on his face, lust and pleasure painting his features. His blown half-lidded eyes watch you blow him and then lower to enjoy the way Tommy’s playing with your pebbled nipples, twisting and tugging on them. You roll your eyes, dancing on the verge of orgasm from Tommy’s ministrations, his length throbbing deep inside you like the second heartbeat and Joel’s cock filling your mouth. You clench hard around Tommy.

“Jesus, sweetheart,” he moans behind you and gently nips at your shoulder, “you’re incredible. Wanna live in your perfect cunt.”

Joel chuckles, “your wife may object.”

No one reacts to his quip, Tommy’s too entranced by your pussy, you’re slurping and gagging on Joel’s member.

He pats your head after a contend groan. “Ahh, doing great, baby. Told ya it’s all ya good for, sucking a cock and sitting on it.”

His warm hand cups your cheek and your eyes lock. “Make her come, Tommy, my little niece deserves it.”

“She does. She’s choking my cock so well.”

“Speaking of choking,” Joel pulls you off his member and you whine.

“Hungry little slut. Don’t worry, ya gonna get your favorite lollipop back. I’m gonna fuck your mouth and ya gonna come on Tommy’s cock, got it?”

You take a deep breath, knowing fully well that Joel won’t spare you, but you nod, biting your lip, “I’ll do my best, daddy,…uncle,” you reply to both of them and the men hum approvingly.

Tommys hands brush your soaked folds, spread open by his cock, filling your core, and his thumb finds your clit, already puffy after Joel’s fingers.

You clench around your stepdad and he moans, “fuck, baby, I won’t last..”

You want to say it’s ok, but Joel already takes your head between his giant palms and pushes his cock back into your mouth. Tommy’s fingers start rubbing, swirling your little clit, while Joel begins fucking your mouth. The roll of his muscular hips is slow at first, merciful, but getting closer to an orgasm, he moves faster and rougher.

His fingers pull at your hair, as his cock plunges into your mouth, hitting your throat again and again. You try to breathe around him, gasping for air any time he lets you, but it’s hard because of how huge he is and you scratch his hips to make him pause.

He pulls you off and slightly slaps your cheek, scolding you, “no scratching, bad kitty.”

You gasp for air and then giggle, being absolutely cock drunk and drowning in the pleasure of having two fat cocks inside you. You feel like you could faint from the ecstasy.

Your core tightens when the flat of Tommy’s palm rubs your whole pussy. He’s rapidly shaking his hand left and right, making your sloppy cunt squelch as you start coming. Joel stuffs your crying out mouth with his cock again, muffling you and fucks deeper, harder into your throat.

You feel yourself like nothing but holes for their cocks, a fuck doll, made solemnly for their pleasure, and the thought makes your pussy pulsate harder.

Your limbs tremble, your whole body jerks with every wave of euphoria. Saliva is drooling down your chin as your pussy coats Tommy’s thighs with your creamy cum.

“Such a good girl for us,” Tommy praises, choking on his words, as he explodes inside you. Loud groans escape his mouth, as he’s painting your walls with his hot cum.

“Yeah, like that, good slut” Joel moans as your lips, tongue and throat are massaging his cock. He starts coming too, his load squirting inside your throat and you drink it all, without any need to swallow.

When your orgasm subsides and they stop pumping their seed into your spent body, Joel takes his cock out of your mouth and you try to catch your breath, leaning against Tommy’s hot chest.

With his cock still inside you, he’s peppering kisses over your shoulders, neck, cheeks while his gentle hands are caressing your body, thanking you for the pleasure you gave him. Joel tucks his cock inside his jeans and plops on the chair. He lights a cigarette and takes a deep drag with a satisfied hum.

Your eyes half-closed, your limbs pleasantly tingling, you’re watching him watch you. You hate how good this handsome fucker makes you feel. He’s an asshole but deep inside you have to admit he’s closer to you than Tommy. Just like you he gets what he wants, no matter the feelings of people you might hurt in the process.

Tommy brings you out of your thoughts, gently turning your head to him to kiss you. You moan into his mouth as he’s hugging you tight, while his cum drips out of your pussy.

Joel interrupts you two after a few seconds by getting up with a grunt.

Tommy and you stop making out and look up at him.

“Can I get a kiss, uncle?” You ask, smiling with a twinkle in your eye. You expect him to refuse tasting his cum on your tongue but he surprises you,

“ ‘course. C’mere,” he motions you to get up with a jerk of his chin, and with widened eyes you get up, as Tommy’s cock slides out of your hole.

Joel pulls your half-naked body to him and wraps his arms around you. Your heart flutters when he’s being so affectionate with you. You can’t help but moan when he presses his lips to yours. Soon he’s licking into your mouth, as you’re melting against his chest.

His lips shift to the side and brush your ear, “thanks for the blowie, angel. One day I’ll return the favor.”

Your spent and used up pussy aches again, imagining him on his knees between your legs.

“Can’t wait,” you whisper back and plant a kiss on his scruffy cheek.

When Joel leaves, Tommy takes you in his arms and carries you to your bedroom. He lays you down on the bed and you roll under the blanket. You fall asleep while he’s caressing your cheekbone with his thumb.

****

You wake up with a jerk. It’s still sunny outside, you must have slept for a couple of hours. Soon you realize the reason for your abrupt awakening. Jess is screeching downstairs. You hear Tommy’s voice too, he’s not as loud as her but he’s definitely trying to over shout your mother.

You’ve heard them arguing before but not as bad as now. You furrow your brows and chew on your lip, still staying in bed.

Listening to them, by habit you grab your phone and check notifications. There’re a few messages from your friends, a missed call from your grandma, and then you see it.

A set of instant messages in your family chat.

The last one from Joel Miller.

You wonder why the fuck he’s in your family group chat at all and then your heart freezes and you start feeling nauseous when you open the last message. It’s a photo.

Of Tommy sitting on the bed in the master bedroom and you straddling him. Both of you are naked. It was shot from the back so your faces are not visible but it’s clearly you two.

Your hands start shaking and you drop your phone, that almost hits your terrified face.

You’re lying for a few long moments almost motionless, while a whirlwind of emotions is swirling in your stomach and your mind is screaming, trying to decide what to do now.

There’s only one way out.

Out.

You get up, put on some clothes and hastily start packing. You take whatever you see and throw it into your suitcase. Then you pad downstairs and sneak out of the house, fortunately, not getting caught by anyone.

Soon you’re walking along the street, with the luggage behind you, running away from the place you definitely can’t call home anymore. Your heart is pounding in your ears, though a part of you feels free, free of your mother, free of the old life. Fuck her. You call your friend and ask if you can crash at her place. She says ‘yes’ and offers to pick you up at the nearest bus stop. While you’re waiting for her, you look at the family chat again.

The fear that you felt before gives way to anger. You’re so mad at Joel, your eyes well up with tears and you wanna scream and break things. Just when you thought that your step uncle believed your promises, he goes and pulls this shit?!

With trembling fingers, you find an audio recording on your phone and send it to Tommy, mumbling under your breath,

‘Thought you could fuck me over like that, asshole? Let’s see who gets fucked now.’

The message to your stepdad goes through and you press ‘play’ and in the quiet of the suburban street you hear Joel’s gruff voice, telling you the plan of getting Tommy move back to Austin, “step one, angel - we record my little brother sayin’ that he wants to fuck ya…”

*****

Thank you for reading! Please comment and reblog if you enjoyed the fic💖 it motivates me to write more filth for you wonderful people😘 and I’d love to hear your thoughts/thots/ideas. What’s gonna happen next? 👀

Part 6 || SERIES MASTERLIST || MASTERLIST

Tag list for the series: @koshkaj-blog @survivingandenduring @nana90azevedo @mermaidgirl30 @oldenoughtoknowbettersstuff @obscurexsorrows @ratoonstown @tammythr @anama-cara @pedge-page @huskyfox5 @ashleyfilm @neverwheremoonchild @stevie75 @untamedheart81 @puduvallee @theoraekenslover @eloquentdreamer @talaok

Tommy tag @huskyfox5

Main tag list: @milla-frenchy @harriedandharassed @missannwinchester @iamasaddie @nervousmumbling @bbyanarchist @stevie75 @puduvallee @auteurdelabre @mountainsandmayhem @senoratess @flamingochick55 @theoraekenslover @schnarfer @mermaidgirl30 @staywildflowahchild @yesjazzywazzylove-blog

If you'd like to be tagged in the series or in anything else let me know!💕

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bangaveragewhitewine · 5 months

Text

baby, do you want to come home with me?

Eddie Munson x Reader

Giving in to the tension feels good

Word count: 702

Contents: Making out. Pre-smut and getting handsy in a bathroom. Female reader (one use of 'her'). Title from Wet Dream, by Wet Leg.

Author’s note: This has been sitting half-finished in my docs named 'untilted eddie make out' for well over a month. It's barely read-over or edited, but here you go, Eddie girls. Come get your man!

His breath is hot against your lips, tinged with smoke and hops. That smokey scent blends with spicy aftershave and the earthy fug of green. Every molecule of you feels aflame, sparked by the slide of his tongue against yours and the gentle command he leads with. He is addictive and you need another taste.

After weeks of tension building, attraction growing stronger each time you saw each other instead of waning, you both gave in tonight. And oh are you glad you did.

Eddie smiles when your mouths meet again; another deep kiss to make you melt between him and the scuffed brick wall at your back. He holds you tighter, closer, and presses up against you to make sure you don’t trickle away into a puddle or twirl off back to the dance floor with your ‘come get me’ eyes. He wants you a little longer and fancies his chances of getting to take you home tonight.

He need not worry; the only place you're going is to find a cab, then home to your place or to his. The music is less loud here, but the base rumbles between your twisted-together bodies.

You can feel him, thick and hard and warm against you through double layers of denim - his and hers. There is buttery leather and surprisingly soft curls beneath your fingers, the sharp line of his flexed jaw and the cool hardware on his jacket. He makes you feel greedy for wanting all of it, all of him, the soft and the hard parts (but especially the hard part tonight).

He makes this little noise when you tug his hair and his jaw falls slack when your nails catch on his scalp just right. You make a note of that for later as he licks into your mouth again, making you keen for him as he pairs that slow deep slide with the firm press of his thigh between your legs that feels so good. Your hips take up a slow roll, encouraged and steadied by his hand at the top of your ass and the perfect press of your jeans right there.

You’re not sure where he begins or where you end anymore, with blurred edges and winding limbs even when you break for breath briefly. A hammering fist on the door is just about enough to halt your kisses - but only after a couple of tries on the handle and an unsuccessful first knock.

“Hello?!! Come on, man, I need to piss!”

“Hold the fuck on.”

Eddie’s voice is rough, a sharp pissed-off bark that echoes around the bar bathroom as you hide your warm face against his chest and give in to a dose of the giggles.

“Somethin’ funny?” he asks, soft just for you.

His smile is stained with your lipstick, and you do your best to swipe the worst of it away with your thumb as you float back down to earth. He does a little to fix the smear below your lip, tender from kissing and the nip of Eddie’s sharp teeth.

“I think they’re going to know…” you murmur, resisting the urge to take one more taste for yourself.

There will be no hiding it from whoever is banging on the door, whoever is queued up behind them with their full bladders and baggies of coke. It was not like either of you were subtle enough to fool your friends, even before you both disappeared together tonight. Not with your matching stained mouths, or Eddie’s tighter-now jeans. Not when you leave together tonight and arrive for breakfast together in the morning.

“Is that so bad?”

You give in to that need for one more kiss, slow and sweet unlike the last one. It says enough to answer his question.

Loud music and the sound of your own heart beating hard are not quite enough to drown out the complaints and wolf-whistles as you leave the locked bathroom together. Eddie leads again with confidence, bolstered by your lipstick on his face and your hand in his back pocket. Neither of you miss how the table of your friends raise their bottles and glasses as you pass them, a few bills exchanged for bets placed as you go find that cab and decide ‘your place or mine?’

Thank you for reading 🖤 Reblogs, likes & comments are loved and cherished

#eddie munson #bangaveragefics #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x fem reader #eddie munson x y/n #stranger things fic #eddie munson smut

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mymegumi · 9 months

Text

SHOULD BE ME, GIRL ෆ KAMO CHOSO

⠀ word count: 0.9k ⠀ warnings: DARK CONTENT!—stepbrother!choso ⠀ (stepcest), afab!reader, masturbation, unknowing ⠀ voyeurism, choso listens in on stepsis!reader having sex, ⠀ choso fantasizes abt reader, protective!choso, reader says ⠀ daddy, choso calls you babygirl in his head ⠀ note: @doobea welcome to my mind may u enjoy this as ⠀ much as u can hehe

sometimes, oftentimes, choso has to wonder if sharing a wall with his stepsister is a curse or a blessing.

a curse—he can hear you crying over your boyfriend missing your birthday, the loud music trying to drown out the sounds of your crying whenever he dumps you, or the constant arguing on the phone whenever the two of you end up back together a few days after he’d left you. the guy wasn’t good for you, and despite being not blood-related for the last half a year or so, choso felt as if he was intruding. had it been itadori or any of his other friends or family having any sort of bad relationship, he wouldn’t have had a second thought for saying that they deserved better.

with you, however, everything is and remains to be different with you.

choso feels… mildly guilty about his less than innocent feelings for you. it’s not his fault that your father had fallen for his mother and the two had gotten married, nor was it his fault that he found his stepsister to be the most alluring being on the earth. everything about you had been exactly as if he’d dreamed it himself, but he had to make do with the fact that he, by law, couldn’t have you.

the walls on the house are thin, and it’s times like these that he considers sharing a wall with you a blessing.

‘oh—! oh—!’ you moan, your voice carrying across the drywall separating yours and choso’s rooms. ‘please, i love feeling your cock in me!’

pressing the palm of his hand into his cock he groans so softly, so strained, that it feels desperate even to him. to imagine feeling what the soft, silkiness of your pussy clamp around his cock—he shudders at the mere thought of it.

choso is practically humping his own hand, desperate to feel any sort of friction on his cock as he can feel his moans leaving his mouth, but he’s trying to be good, to be quiet. grabbing the hem of his shirt, he pulls it up to his mouth and clenches down on it, pressing an ear against the drywall to get a better listen in on you and your boyfriend.

‘fuck me,’ you swear loudly, well aware of the fact that you and your partner were supposed to be alone in the house, ‘you love when i ride your dick like this, baby?’

his eyes slide closed as he worms his hand into his briefs, cock straining against the material and it’s sweet relief when his hand wraps around the base of his cock. he’s hard—he’s been listening to the two of you fucking for about twenty minutes already—and just the image of you, riding his cock with your breasts on full display before him, makes his dick grow just a little bit larger.

behind his eyelids, he imagines you with your hands sliding on your waist, your thighs gripping his hips as you bounce yourself up and down on his cock. he watches as his hands slide from your knees, to your thighs, fingers gripping your thighs and his hand uncontrollably grips his dick just a bit tighter. tightening his legs, he lets his shorts drop to the ground with his underwear. he squeezes gently when his hand reaches the tip, but lets it glide down his shaft smoothly and the sensation leaves goosebumps along his spine.

‘d-daddy!’ you whimper, ‘can i come?’

of course you can, babygirl. he thinks to himself, eyes opening as he watches sweat from his exertion trickle down his abdomen, disappearing in the line of his dark pubes. but only for me.

he hates to think it, but it doesn’t matter who you were riding—the only man who could please you, who knew you inside and out, was choso. your boyfriend would fuck you, but he knew that you’d never experience a true orgasm unless it was by his hand—by his cock.

he just wanted to protect you. your boyfriend was bad news, sleeping with other girls and probably calling you all sorts of names to his friends when you weren’t around. choso wouldn’t ever treat you like that, he’d treat you like the princess you were. choso would treat you like a goddess.

with a burning desire to protect you, to keep you safe from other men’s carnal instincts and unearthly desires, his hand begins to speed up, his grip tightening ever so slightly to, hopefully, send him over the edge. with his teeth bearing down on his shirt stuffed in his mouth, shorts pooled at his ankles and hand rubbing vigorously on his cock, choso listens to you ride your boyfriend in the other room.

he listens to you get yourself off, straining to hear every whimper and moan coming out of your mouth and imagines that it’s his cock you’re riding, that he’s the one eliciting those sounds. when he hears your soft, desperate admission that you were about to come, he feels his own heart stutter.

choso gasps, shirt dropping from his mouth as he lets his come splatter against his side of your shared wall, wishing he could’ve been coming inside of your squidgy pussy, instead. he stands still for a moment, head rested against the wall as he lets his heart rate calm down, his breathing return to normal before he begins to make himself presentable again.

this isn’t the first time he’s come to the thought or the sound of you. it is the first time you send him a knowing smile and wink in the living room a mere ten or so minutes later, which sends a zing straight to his dick.

ʚ reblogs greatly appreciated! ɞ

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whocaresstillthelouvre · 5 months

Text

Domestica - A Joel Miller Drabble

Rating: Explicit. 18+ (Minors DNI) Pairing: Pre Outbreak Joel Miller x Female Reader Word Count: 1,100 Summary: It's Joel's birthday, you're the best gift he can ask for. Warnings: No outbreak (happy birthday bb), smut, domestic fluff, Joel's POV. A/N: This absolutely planted in my brain and I couldn't do anything until I wrote it out. Masterlist

Heavy footsteps down the stairs, the jingle of his belt as he buckles it, the sound of a metal fork clanging against a glass bowl as eggs are whisked, the sizzle of bacon frying in the pan, Sarah gently humming a tune as the the orange juice pitcher glugs. Breakfast in the Miller household every morning plays all of the familiar sounds he loves to hear.

Every morning he wakes up reaching for you, but you’re an even earlier riser than him. The side of your bed empty, the plant that used to sit half dead on the bedside table now blooming and healthy, akin to how he feels about his life ever since you entered it.

——

He wraps his arms around you as you stand at the stove flipping bacon in the pan, sneaking a kiss to your neck as Sarah’s back is turned away. “Mornin’,” he breathes against your ear loving how you instantly mold to his body.

Your body fits so perfectly against his, no matter what time of day. Innocent morning hugs while Sarah’s around, lazy evening cuddles on the couch after dinner, smoldering night time hips meeting as he enters you.

“Happy birthday,” he can hear the smile in your voice as you softly thud your head against his broad chest. “You forgot to buy pancake mix, so it’s eggs and bacon for breakfast.”

“Fine by me,” he says against your head, kissing the top of it before pulling away to pour himself a cup of coffee. He refills your empty cup without asking, adding a heaping spoonful of creamer and a sprinkle of sugar, knowing exactly how you take it.

The best present he can be given today is seeing his girls at his table, you making Sarah giggle as you tease her about the actor she has a crush on. His hand on your thigh choosing to eat one handed because you’re still wearing your sleep shorts, those same shorts he peeled off your body last night before bed.

The diamond on your finger glinting in the sunlight pouring in from the windows, he moves his hands up to it to pet the hard stone, proud of himself for finding the ring of your dreams. He remembers the tears welling in your eyes as he asked you to marry him, those same eyes he looks for in a crowd, the same eyes that brighten when they see him.

“Bear, did you remember to grab the extra pack of highlighters I had in my desk?” He loves how you have your own pet name for Sarah. He loves how you’ve stepped right into being a coparent with him, leaving him feeling like he’s no longer struggling underwater slowly being drowned by his job and trying to be the best single parent he can be. He loves that Sarah loves you as much he loves you. You’re his gift that keeps on giving.

“Yep, thank you!” she winks at you, he loves how he can instantly tell the two of you are scheming together and how bad the two of you are at playing coy.

“I gotta get ready before it’s any late,” you rise from the table. “Be good today Bear,” he’ll never tire of seeing the way his daughter smiles as you kiss the top of her forehead. He swears your influence has kept her just as sweet in her teenage years as she was as a little girl.

“I’ll be up later to say goodbye after Tommy gets here,” he says as you bend over and kiss his cheek.

——

He can hear the shower on, a song quietly playing on the shower radio that you sing along to. The mirror’s fogged up, he can smell the sweet scent of your body wash wafting through the air mixing with the steam. “Baby, I’m leaving now,” he speaks over the song.

“Okay,” you open the shower door, naked and soaking wet, his hands tighten into frustrated fists because he can’t join you. “Still going to be late?”

“Afraid so,” he stands outside the tub, the walls of it his own blockade stopping him from being any later.

“Well, Sarah and I will go get a cake for you so at least you’ll have that whenever you get home,” you lean forward, your body dripping water on the floor and his boots.

“Thanks baby,” he wraps his arms around you, he doesn’t care how wet you’re getting his shirt, it’ll be a nice reminder of your body against his as it dries.

“I love you,” you look up at him and smile waiting for a kiss. “Have a good birthday day.”

“I’ll miss you,” his lips brush against yours, restraining himself to keep the kiss from turning heated.

A honk from outside rattles him out of the daydream of stripping off his clothes and joining you, pushing your naked body against the wall and fucking you against it.

“You better get going,” you lean away and step back under the water.

“Shit,” he adjusts the crotch of his jeans as you giggle at his predicament.

“Goodbye birthday boy, love you,” you shut the shower door, going right back to singing your song on the radio.

He stomps down the stairs annoyed that the last vision he’ll have of you on this birthday morning is you naked and smiling at him while water drips down your body.

——

That night after tucking Sarah in with a kiss on her forehead and a stroke of her soft cheek as she sleeps, he walks into his room to find you laid out on the bed, only the thin sheet covering your body, your eyes staring at him with a smirk on your lips. You look like a temptress, and he’s fallen under your spell.

“Happy birthday baby,” you whisper as you climb on top of him.

The gasp you let out as he enters you, shared moans muffled by each other’s lips, your slick squelching as he fucks into you, his tongue lapping up your wetness, the slurp of your lips as you suck him. Nighttime in Joel’s room plays all of the familiar sounds he thinks about during the day. The thought of seeing the way you smile whenever he sticks his cock in you gets him through the worst of days.

——

In the early morning he wakes up sweaty and panicked, panting for air terrified from his nightmare. You turn over, and grab the hand on his chest, soothing him back to sleep with your sweet voice and soft body against his reassuring him he hasn’t lost anything.

#pedro pascal #joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller/reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #joel tlou #joel x reader #joel miller smut #no outbreak #no outbreak!joel miller

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dizscreams · 1 year

Note

ETHAN WALKING IN ON YOU CHANGING FIC !!!

LETS DO IT!!! I’m not sure if you wanted this suggestive or fluff so there’s bothhh!

Accident — Ethan Landry ★

PAIRING: Ethan x fem!reader

A/N: we loveee dizzy being in her active era!!

All Ethan was trying to do was give you back the notebook you left in his dorm when you had come over to study the other day. He didn’t know you’d be half naked when he walked in. And plus he knocked! Twice! He’s never been so embarrassed, well he has, but this felt so much worse for some reason. Maybe cause he’s liked you for so long now and he’s dreamed of seeing you like that, but on other circumstances. Circumstances where it was intentional.

“Chad, I can’t face her. This is so bad, oh my god,” Ethan’s worried voice was muffled by his hands covering his face. His roommate wasn’t doing anything to help him either, he was just laughing in his face. “Dude! It’ll be fine, don’t stress it,” Chad said while slapping Ethan’s back. Ethan shot him a glare and continued to pace the living room of the apartment you shared with Sam, Tara, and Quinn. Anika was actually trying to help him, Mindy was making fun of him just like her twin was, and Tara was trying her best to help and not laugh at the same time.

There was no way he’d be able to look you in the eyes again. What did you think of him now?? Did you think he was creepy?? A perv?? Would you yell at him when you walked back in?? Tara put a hand on Ethan’s shoulder trying to calm him down, “I’m sure it’s fine, Eth-” Ethan shook his head, “Its not! It’s so embarrassing you don’t understand- I like her a lot and I was planning to ask her out soon but there’s no chance she’d ever say yes now. Oh my god, I can’t imagine what she thinks of me right now,” he rambled while he flopped on the couch.

Ethan’s hands were on his face again and he noticed how everyone went silent. He slowly lowered his hands and looked at everyone, but they were focused on something else. He slowly followed their gazes to see you standing right there. Oh no. Did you hear that? How does everything keep getting worse?Ethan’s face turned bright red and he didn’t know what to do or what to say. After a moment of silence and way too much eye contact he spoke up, “Did you hear that?” He wanted to wince at how small and weak his voice sounded.

“Hear what?” You asked with an innocent tone and a head tilt. But you definitely knew and he knew you knew. I mean you had to. He could read you like a book. There was a mischievous glint in your eyes and a ghost of a smirk on your pretty lips, the lips he wanted to kiss so bad. After another pause of silence Chad decided to put on a movie so everyone could calm down and have a chill little movie night. Ethan was extremely thankful his roommate had a good idea for once, hoping this would take his mind off of everything that just happened.

He was talking with Anika and was starting to relax until you called for him, “Hey Eth, you wanna help me get the popcorn started?” He froze. Why? He wasn’t sure. This was normal and you didn’t seem to be upset at him or anything. This was fine, everything would be fine. “Yeah, sure,” he mumbled as he stood up. He made his way over to you in the kitchen and you smiled at him. He did his best to smile back and watched you get the popcorn bag and put it in the microwave. He looked at what you were wearing, little pajama shorts and a T-Shirt. Then he remembered what you were wearing when he walked in on you, nothing but your underwear.

He’d be lying if he said thinking about you wasn’t making him flush pink and a little hard. “Ethan?” His head snapped to look at your eyes, not realizing he had been staring at your ass the whole time. “I asked if you would get two bowls out for me? Mindy and Anika want to share and Chad and Tara are sharing. I guess you could get three if you want to share with me.” He barely registered what you had said but got three bowls out quickly, wanting to drown out the dirty thoughts he had begun to think about.

It was then he realized he hadn’t apologized for barging in your room just under 10 minutes ago. He placed the bowls on the counter and glanced at you, but you were already looking at him. He cleared his throat, “Um I’m sorry- y’know about earlier. I didn’t mean to walk in on you, I mean obviously. It was an accident, I promise,” he said quickly. You giggled at the flustered boy and he tried his best to avoid your gaze, but he couldn’t. He looked at you and the look on your face and he smiled, the blush on his cheeks not leaving.

“It’s okay, Eth. I didn’t mind,” you told him with a slight smirk. His eyebrows raised slightly and you chuckled. You leaned in and his breath hitched, he didn’t know where this was going. Your hand snaked up his chest and all the way up to cup his face. You admired him for a second before you inched closer to him, making sure nobody else would hear you, “I was kind of sad you didn’t stay,” you said quietly. He didn’t understand. “What?” He asked matching your volume.

“Well all day I’ve been thinking about you.” Your hand was now touching his biceps. “I was hoping when you walked in you would’ve stayed and helped me out, been so needy for you all day,” you confessed while looking at him with big eyes. He thought he was gonna pass out. His cock was definitely hard now, now that he knew you thought of him like he thought of you. And you wanted him, you needed him, just like how he wanted and needed you. “Fuck,” he muttered. You were so close to him and all he wanted was to fuck you against the counter or kiss you, or touch you. Just something. But there were people around.

He couldn’t give a fuck less about a movie right now or that he heard Chad asking what the fuck was taking so long, all he cared about was you. You were intoxicating. “Can we go to my dorm?” He asked you suddenly, the tension getting too much for him. Ethan searched your eyes for any signs of disgust or discomfort, but he didn’t find anything like that. Your eyes were full of lust and want, and it was for him, all for him. “Yes please,” you grabbed his hand and left the kitchen. “We’re going, don’t wait up!” You rushed out the door with Ethan stumbling behind you, a dumb smile on his face.

LMAO it turned to me wanting it to be fluffy into smth suggestive im sorry 😔 fluffy fics comin soon I sweaaarrrr and I’m tired af so this is lazy I apologize but hope you enjoy regardless!

#not proofread #not proud of it #but we’re rockin with it #scream 6 #ethan landry #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry imagine #ethan landry thoughts #dizzy writes?! 😵‍💫

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meanbossart · 2 months

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You might’ve answered this before, if so my apologizes, but did Astarion approach Drow to ask if he could bite him during act 1, or was it a spur of the moment thing during sex when drow just decided that he wanted to be bitten during act 2? (I remember something about Astarion shot him down during the tiefling party originally, so I assume it was during act 2 they started getting intimate?)

Oh Astarion tried to bite him almost immediately after they started having sex, which was at the end of Act 1 while they were somewhere in the underdark, or the forge (I remember that because I recall having a laugh about how they supposedly had to go all the way back up to the surface to bang, since the animation just showed a normal forest LOL)

It seems that by now, they have patched the game so that if Astarion tells you about his vampirism during normal dialogue you will no longer get the bite scene to trigger, but back then that wasn't the case. He first told me he was a vampire and then tried to bite me at a later long-rest. The way I choose to interpret that, is that DU drow would have taken it a lot more amicably than the game implies through cutscene since 1) he was already aware of Astarion's condition and 2) He had already made the decision to humor Astarion's advances, which kind of encompasses this whole situation.

I got to thinking about how that scene went and ended up writing a short thing for it 🤷enjoy!

You jolt from a light sleep like you’ve fallen down from an immeasurable height, feeling the thumping of your heart in the drums of your ears first thing before the distant, wailing choirs that resonate through the Underdark drown out the beating. You can’t immediately recall your dreams, going from complete silence and blackness back to this. You hear the scraping of rocks miles away with the same clarity with which you hear the wet slap of lips closing, Astarion looms over you like a hunched gargoyle, close enough that you can make out every dry pore and blue vessel scrawling away from his under eyes with the utmost clarity - he looks specially sickly, with the icy glow of the fauna around you reflecting off his pale complexion.

“What are you doing?” And as soon as you ask, he pulls away like a house-pet on the other end of reprimand.

He falters for a moment and no longer, there’s a glimmer of fear crossing his rounding eyes - before they relax back into sultry slits. The expression is not befitting of his posture, spine curves like a creature in the prowl. “Just looking for some comfort.” He reassures you. “I had a terribly scary dream.”

You saw the flash of his canines before his jaw clamped shut. He’s lying, and he knows that you know. “Were you about to bite me?”

You are curious more than you are chiding. Your heart rate has dropped, you feel it quieting down underneath your palms as they rest over your chest - still lying flat on your bedroll, looking up at the waxy elf with your neck crooked to one side. You see no reason to stand.

There’s a hesitance before he crawls a little closer, fingers brushing through the moss as his voice drops to an alluring whisper, the control he has over his voice is absent in the rest of his presentation. “Would you like that?”

A laughable assumption to make of most, but he had seen sides of you that have made him wonder. Even if he’s mistaken, it’s worth trying to convince you that it was your idea all along.

You had toyed with the thought, but you like toying with him more. “Why would I?”

Astarion scoffs over his shoulder, coming to cozy up by your hip with a practiced posture much more dignified than his awkward lurch - the cold leather of his trousers press into your naked side, his hand hovers over you and plants itself down by your ear - head hanging uncomfortably close. He can’t see into mirrors, he doesn’t know how bad he looks. “Because you can’t get enough of me.” half assertion, half plead. “This might be the closest we get to a little salacious fun, given our circumstances.”

“Is that all?”

“Of course it isn’t. I’m also hungry.” He playfully dabs a fingertip to your chin. “But I’m hungry for you, in particular.”

“Sick of taste of pig’s blood?”

“To death.” hisses, his smile tenses into a snarl “I’ve seen you fight. You leak like you’re never going to run out.”

“If I let you, iIs that going to wipe that demented look off your face?”

He harps out a laugh, a little too loud - you hear one of your companions take in a sharp inhale before settling. Both your glances stray off to your sides before locking onto one another again, Astarion’s pupils swallowing the reds of his irises.. “Yes.”

“What a shame.”

A forced grin, more like a grimace. He’s almost too weak to keep up his own ruse. “Just say no and I’ll be off.” He’s telling you to stop wasting his time. You pull yourself up onto your elbows and he retracts away an appropriate amount, though hands remain nailed to the sides of you, imprisoning you between his arms.

He could jump your throat so easily from there, clamp down and refuse to let go until you’re splashing around red puddles like a dying fish in an oil spill. You fantasise about jamming your thumbs into his eyes and trying to pry him off by the sockets of the skull, feeling a fawn as it kicks and flails helplessly at the ribs of a cougar. How would you sound, whimpering with a crushed windpipe?

The thought arouses you, but it's different from that rising singe in your pelvis whenever burying a blade into the livers of screaming men - it’s a comforting warmth in your stomach that makes you loose, makes you malleable. He reads your silence as reluctance, not just the wanderings of a mad-man. He grows desperate.

“All I need is a little blood.”

You immediately feel him recoil.

“Please.”

A high contrast to your reveries, you realise that you don’t like him like this: begging. “Take it, then.”

He stiffens. Waiting for you to quality, recant, regret. But all you do is stare on unblinking while a chill travels up your back. His face tightens and a hand reaches up to bury itself in the limp locks of your hair, shoulders leaning forward before his face latches itself onto your neck with a crunch and a snap. You slam back down onto the floor as Astarion wraps around you like a snake.

#ask #du drow and astarion #writing

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hockeyboysimagines · 9 months

Text

Work wife

A Vince Dunn blurb for @cellythefloshie. This is not in any way related to Fuck me like I’m famous. This is just a fun blurb we talked about brought to life.

Warnings: Sex, cheating

“There’s my work wife.”

You half turned to find Vince coming down the hallway smiling at you.

Working for the Kraken was a dream come true really.

You couldn’t actually ask for a better job, or better environment to be in. It was a tight knit group full of great people who worked hard, and got along well.

And then there was Vince.

You two had clicked from the beginning. He was easy to talk to, and you liked him a lot. The more time you spent together, the more you got to know him and the more comfortable you became with him.

Maybe too comfortable.

Which is how you wound up screaming his name one night after drinks, after the flirtation between you guys had finally boiled over and spilled into his apartment. It had been extremely awkward when you saw him on Monday, but when he caught you in the parking garage and asked to talk, you’d agreed. And that’s how it all started. Secret meetups, sneaking around, and even texts from a fake phone number, your assistant “Jessica”, to keep things under wraps. It felt both wrong, and exciting, but you just couldn’t stop. While it had started as a secret hookup, it hadn’t stayed that way. There was genuine feelings there now.

The term “work wife” had started as a joke, thrown out by a coworker of yours, who obviously had no clue what was happening behind closed doors, but it stuck. There was really only one problem with it.

You were someone’s real life wife.

The idea of Vince made your husband clearly uncomfortable in the beginning, before anything was actually going on, but there wasn’t really anything you could do about it, and you didn’t really want to either. Your husband was a good guy, but being around Vince made you realize you really didn’t have a thing in common. He was 8 years older than you, and you had married young, feeling the pressure from your family to marry someone who was financially stable. You “loved” him, but you weren’t really “In love” with him, at least not anymore. Not that you were in love with Vince either, but your feelings for him had drowned out the feelings for your husband. And beyond that, you had suspicions that he was embroiled in his own case of infidelity.

You felt really bad at first, but then he started staying late, random business trips with no warning, and you’d even found a receipt for purchased jewelry that you hadn’t received just last month. He often smelled of perfume and the lipstick you’d found on the inside of one of his shirts was a color you’d never worn. You hadn’t confronted him because you just didn’t care, and truly you had no room to talk.

It was a rock and a hard place situation that you’d landed yourself in, but the thrill of it all overrode the anxiety of being found out.

Not only would you lose your job, your respect in the work place, and your marriage, but it would also put a black mark on your career moving forward and make Vince look bad, none of which you wanted.

He made his way past you and winked, but then paused at the end of the hallway, just below a camera so he couldn’t be seen, and motioned for you to check your phone. You absently pulled out your phone, turning away from him so it looked like you just happened to get a message.

Meet me in the room.

“The room” as he called it was a vacant room in the basement of the arena that was used mostly for storage, and sat in the middle of a hallway that was void of cameras. It wasn’t ideal, but sometimes there was no other choice. There was few places you could go with him that he wasn’t recognized here, so you were limited to the room, his apartment and your place only if your husband was on a business trip out of state and even then it was risky.

You took the long way, careful not to rush, giving small glances here and there to make sure that no one was following you, and slipped into the hallway that your office was located, which conveniently also led the the hallway he was waiting for you in.

You made you way down the corridor, a set of stairs and then down to the vacant room. He was leaned against the wall, eyes moving up your bare legs and you neared him.

“Hi wifey.” He said smiling cheekily as he held the door open for you, allowing you to step inside before following you in. You gave a little shudder as the room grew dark when the door closed and you felt his hands on your waist.

“You look nice today.” He said in your ear, turning you to face him. Goddamnit he was gorgeous, even more up close. In curiosity you had done a google search of him right after you’d started working there and saw that everyone else thought that too, not to your surprise, but you were lucky enough to see all his body parts up close and personal and you felt bad for the people who didn’t get to.

“You say that to me everyday.” You ran a hand up his arm as he reached forward to press his lips against your neck.

“Well then I guess it’s true.” He said softly, hand gripping your chin as he pulled his mouth off your neck and caught your lips a very hot, wet kiss.

You felt a heat start to spread in your stomach as he backed you up against a table, tongue pushing in your mouth, cutting off your air. The way he moved his tongue against yours made your heart race, fingers gripping at your blouse, which was tucked into a pencil skirt, and pulling it loose so he could unbutton it, and hoisted you up to sit on the edge of the table. His hands, slightly rough against your skin as he reached the bottom button and ran his hands up your waist, pausing at your bra and pulling away from you.

“Is this new?” He asked breathlessly gesturing at your bra.

You nodded and watched as he reached a hand forward and ran a finger across your collarbone, down your chest to your sternum, hooking a finger in the front band and running it along your ribs.

“I bought it just for you. It matches these.” You gestured down and inched your skirt up to reveal black underwear. He smiled slowly eyes staying on them for a second before they moved back up to yours and he smiled.

“Can’t wait to take them off.” He reached down hooking a thumb on either side of them and gave them a tug, pulling them down your legs, hand coming back up your legs to pull one up underneath your knee, and to spread the other one wider, leaning you back as he eased himself into you.

Your head fell back, hair spilling off your shoulders as he pulled out and pushed back in. You felt a hand on the back of your neck as Vince pulled you up to kiss him, pushing in and out finding a rhythm. You caught his lip between your teeth, and he gave your hair a small tug, goosebumps erupting across your skin. It truly never got old feeling him inside you and his hands all over you. He brought you to highs you’d never been at before and each time was better than the one before.

He angled his hips upward and hit a spot you didn’t know existed and you cried out, biting down on your lip to stop from making too much noise. A curl at the front of his hair fell across his forehead as he picked up his pace. Your lower back was screaming in pain as it hit repeatedly on the table and you felt your legs begin to tighten and heat explode in your stomach as a crippling orgasm swept from your lower half to your upper half, Vince’s lips at your neck as it shuddered through your body and your vision went spotty. You gave a shaky breath as he slowed his pushes and let his head fall forward, breath hot on your neck. After a moment he picked his head up to look at you.

“You’re amazing.”

You blushed and pushed the curl off his forehead, as he helped you down and handed you your underwear. You gingerly pulled them back up, and took several deep breaths attempting to cool yourself down.

“What are you doing tonight?” He asked reaching a hand out to intertwine his fingers with yours “Come over after work for a little bit. What time does he get home?”

“6:30. I guess I could for a little bit.”

“Great.” He smiled widely and gave you one last short and sweet kiss before he left the room, making his way back to wherever he was planning to go and you made your way to your office, now tasked with spending the next three hours at your desk having to think about him, and what you would be getting into with him later on.

You sometimes wondered if keeping this thing you had going with him was for the worst rather than the better. How bad would it hurt to rip off the bandaid when it inevitably went south, or had to end due to whatever reasons. And what would happen if he met someone else?

Would you be cast aside? Replaced? A side piece?

You couldn’t handle that. And it wouldn’t be fair, which you knew because it wasn’t fair to him that he was currently a side piece. He didn’t seem bothered, or he was a great actor because he never spoke up about it when you asked and even managed to crack a joke about it here and there for your benefit. But it still wasn’t right. And it wouldn’t be right to drag this out knowing he should have the right to go out and meet girls without having to wonder what would happen with you and him.

You got so absorbed thinking about it, you lost track of time and nearly ended up staying past your clock out time, rushing to get out of the arena and over to Vince’s. He greeted you with his usual “wifey” at the door and pulled you inside.

After your second romp of the day, your breath evened out, you checked your phone and sighed. You pursed your lips and glanced at him.

He shook his head “Don’t say it-“

“Time to go.” you said quietly, sitting upright and grabbing your bra and blouse. You heard him sigh behind you and lean back against the headboard. It was quiet for a while as you hooked the clasp, and pulled the blouse over your shoulders. You hated this part. The afterglow wasn’t even over and you had to leave, go home and play housewife to someone you barely even had conversation with day to day. You’d not been intimate with each other in over a year, since you’d started working for the Kraken, because you were both getting it somewhere else. It felt silly to continue to live a lie.

“I think you should leave your husband.” Vince said off handedly from behind you.

You paused and turned slowly “What?” You said eyes moving up to meet his as you buttoned your blouse.

“You heard me.” He said from his spot on the bed “I said I want you to leave your husband.” He was looking at you straight faced, serious and not joking. He’d made lots of “leave your husband” jokes over the last few months, but he wasn’t kidding this time.

You gaped at him “I-Why?”

“Please.” He rolled his eyes “I think it’s pretty self explanatory. I mean if you really loved him would you even be here?” He gestured around.

He wasn’t wrong. You’d been going over this in your head for months, and you’d come to the conclusion that your husband just wasn’t it.

“Even if I would….Id have to quit for this to go any further.”

Vince pursed his lips “I mean. I can’t ask you to do that, but I do know that you should leave him. And I think you know that too.” He added quietly “I mean even without me in the picture, it wouldn’t be any different.”

He was right.

Part of why you took the job with the Kraken was to fill your time and pull yourself out of being a housewife and hanging out with all his business buddies perfect wives. Working with the Kraken gave you the freedom to do your own thing and be whoever you wanted to be, rather than locked up in that condo.

You nodded “Your right. But what about my job? I can’t be with you and work here.”

“Let’s worry about that another time. I can help you with this.” He reached forward and gripped your hand “I just really want you to be happy.”

You were quiet for a minute, eyes focused on the bedsheet as you realized this could be your one chance to get out of the mess you were in. Your one opportunity to truly change the direction of your life. Maybe things never went forward with Vince, but maybe they did. Even if they didn’t, he had given you the confidence to make changes and leave a guy you didn’t even love, and for that you would always be thankful.

“Well?” He asked after a few moments of silence.

You looked up and took a deep breath “Do you promise? To help me?”

He nodded eyes lighting up “Yes. So are we really doing this?” He looked so hopeful, leaned forward, eyes bright. It was actually making your heart hurt how beautiful he was at that moment.

You nodded “I think- I think so.”

He smiled the most beautiful, breath taking smile you’d ever seen on him, which you didn’t think was possible because they were all beautiful, but this one was different.

“This is going to change your life I promise you. I’m going to change your life. For the better.”

“You already have.”

He pulled you right back down, kissing you like he never had as you became a tangle mess of limbs and clothes and you felt like things would get better for the first time in a long time.

Maybe being a work wife wasn’t so bad.

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w2sarcher · 6 months

Text

noisy neighbour part one | harry lewis

summary: in which y/n owns a coffee shop and harry is her noisy neighbour

word count : 4.3k

a/n: this is part one of my noisy neighbour series!!! this is the first full length fic (non insta au) that i've written on here so hopefully it's not half bad and you all enjoy it. any feedback much appreciated xx

requests: open for insta au's and short storys xxx

rest of my work hereeee : masterlist

✩ ✩ ✩

Y/N was having the worst week imaginable.

For just over a year, she had poured her heart and soul into her coffee shop, 'Sweetheart's Sip' (a cheesy name, she knows), that was located in the heart of Shoreditch, a few roads away from Boxpark. It had always been a dream of hers to open her own little cafe, and a few years after leaving university, she did just that. It was one of her biggest goals to spread the joy of enjoying a tasty slice of lemon cake or hearty brewed cup of breakfast tea to everyone in the area, and after searching for what felt like years, Y/N found a vacancy for a small shop in London that luckily had a flat free above it. With a few trips to Ikea and endless nights of painting and decorating, Y/N was finally able to call 'Sweetheart's Sip' her home.

Living above her shop was so convenient for her, as she opened at 7:30 most days, and when she was left closing late after a busy day of making flat whites, it was nice for her to just trod upstairs and into her peaceful solitude, not having to worry about catching a tube or bus halfway across the city.

The shop just next to her cafe had a flat above it that had been vacant for ages, long before Y/N had even opened her little place. However, recent weeks saw the arrival of many construction crews and noise, some with cameras, which she found quite odd but intriguing, signalling a new tenant for the adjacent flat was on their way.

And this is why Y/N was having a bad week.

Don't get her wrong; she was excited to meet her new neighbour. She had even made bets in her head that it would be some trendy hipster (it was Shoreditch after all) or hopefully a quiet office-goer who wouldn't make too much noise. But Y/N had lost her own bet; she was completely off with her guesses.

Instead, as the days passed and her neighbour moved in, all she could hear was loud house music and a male voice shouting for a good 6 hours out of the day—this was no trendy hipster or quiet office-goer.

The noise was so bad that the whole cute atmosphere of 'Sweetheart's Sip' felt completely disrupted, the loud music drowning out the conversations of her customers sipping away at their coffees.

So, a week passed before Y/N let the noise get the best of her. She'd taken numerous trips to Boots for paracetamol to try and numb her headache, but it wasn't enough; she needed to confront the noisy neighbour head-on. But Y/N hated confrontation; the thought of having to single out someone and tell them that they needed to essentially 'Shut up' was making her headaches even worse, especially when this person was someone she'd never met and now a person that could be living next to her for years to come.

She knew she had to do it, though. As much as it pained her to do so, the noise was so bad. Disrupting her in her own flat was one thing, but the fact that customers were reluctant to enter in fear that they'd hear thumping music that was enough to shake the teapots hung up on the wall was Y/N's breaking point.

She flipped the sign on the front door of the cafe from 'open' to 'close' as no one was in the cafe, a rarity for Y/N but no surprise with the past week's events. Taking three deep breaths, she rehearsed a little speech in her head, unsure of who would be waiting on the other side of the door. ''You can do this, Y/N,'' she thought in her head. Rehearsing a little speech was something Y/N always did whenever she had to talk to new people. Or if she knew she was going to a new restaurant, she'd have to rehearse her food order in her head about a hundred times before telling the waiter. It made her feel less anxious, and anxious was exactly how she felt right now.

Ringing the buzzer of the blue door, she heard a man's voice shout, ''One-second boys, think my Deliveroo driver's here.''

The sudden thought of turning back and going back next door was so tempting at that moment, but she knew if she turned around, there'd be no resolution to the issues, and one terrible week would soon turn into a terrible month.

A waft of aftershave hit her in the face as the door opened, and she was met face-to-face with the noisy culprit she'd been so apprehensive to introduce herself to. A rugged man, blonde-haired with scruffy facial hair and blue eyes, similar in age to her, stood in front of her. Expecting a food delivery driver, his eyes narrowed at the sight of her. She stood awkwardly outside his front door with her green apron on that she'd forgotten to take off before closing up.

She could still hear the heavy bass of house music pounding from upstairs, this time much louder.

Clearing his throat, the man spoke. ''Can I help you?'' His voice was deep and quite posh, but still nice, she thought.

''S-sorry. I mean yes,'' she paused, jumbling up her words, the rehearsed speech gone out the window. ''-I'm from next door, the cafe?''

''Oh right.'' he laughed, leaning against the door frame. ''Yeah, Sweetheart's shit or something like that?'' What a rubbish attempt at a joke, or maybe just plain rudeness, she thought.

''Sweetheart's sip, not shit,'' she stated, to which he smiled back.

''Oh right, well... What can I do for you?'' he asked, looking down at his phone to see if his Deliveroo app had updated an estimated time of arrival for his chicken burger, not half interested in what she had to say.

''Well, as I said, I'm from next door, and I've had a few complaints from customers about loud music and shouting coming from your flat, and I was just wondering if there was any chance you'd keep it down a bit?'' she asked. '’I hate asking, but it's sort of taking a toll on my shop.''

''What? The sweetheart's got nowhere to shit anymore?'' he tried, but was met with a stern look from the small girl standing on his doorstep. ''Right, not funny. Sorry, I'll try to keep the noise down.''

''Thank you.'' she smiled.

''Anything else?'' he said, eyebrows raised.

''No, that's all; I've got to get back,'' Y/N replied, pointing towards her cafe.

Turning on her heels, a sigh of relief left her lips as she retreated back to the shop. That wasn't too hard, she realised. The problem of loud music and shouting was finally resolved. She could get back to her sweet little cafe, and her regulars would finally have their quiet place back to chinwag again.

But as she was nearing the door, she heard the man clear his throat, shouting over the noise of traffic that passed them both. '''Before you go, any chance you know the person that lives above your cafe? You know the one that's next door to me upstairs?''

She turned back to face him, seeing his head sticking out the door, slippers clad on his feet so he would not step barefoot on the dirty London pavements.

''I do, yeah,'' she replied. She didn't necessarily want to let the man know that it was, in fact, her that lived next door to him. She couldn't be bothered to make small talk, as she needed to get back to work. And if her initial introduction was anything to go off of, she didn't think this man would be someone who'd want to make small talk with her anyway.

''Any chance if you see them, you'd tell them to keep their own music down? Kept me up the whole of Saturday and Sunday night listening to ABBA.'' he said, pinching in between his eyes as if to emphasise that he had a headache all weekend from it.

''Really?'' she said.

''Yes. Honestly, if you think my music is bad, you should have heard the screechy singing I had to put up with all weekend. Like nails on a chalkboard,'' he laughed.

Y/N was embarrassed. Not only had it taken all her courage, paired with a few rehearsal speeches, to come and confront her noisy neighbour, she had now been told that her music and singing were in fact much worse and the reason for his headaches. She wanted to hide away in her flat; she was mortified.

Turning back towards her door in attempts to get as far away as possible from the reason for her embarrassment, she muffled a quick ''I'll let them know.'' before retreating quickly into the front door of her cafe.

✩ ✩ ✩

A few days had passed since her awkward encounter, and luckily for Y/N, she hadn't seen the sight of her noisy neighbour since then.

She descended the stairs from her flat and unlocked the front door of her cafe, bracing herself for what she knew would be a busy day. Fridays were always Y/N's busiest, whether that was people popping in during their work break, tourists stopping by to try something 'authentically British' or just her regulars back to try the 'cake of the month', Fridays just always seemed to draw in more people than any other day.

The brief encounter she had with her neighbour had lingered in her mind the whole week. While the music and shouting had quietened down, every so often, Y/N would hear the start of a house tune or a loud shout that only made her wince and think that maybe her embarrassing confrontation was all for nothing.

Today, however, silence greeted Y/N as she walked into the cafe, ready to start the coffee machine and display her various sweet treats on the counter. She had never felt more grateful.

Throughout the day, customers came and went, their conversations having a soothing melody compared to the previous week's discord. Y/N felt like she could finally relax and enjoy the solace of their company, grateful for the return of the peaceful cafe that she had worked so hard to create.

As evening came around, Y/N was getting ready to close up her shop and retreat upstairs to her apartment, eager to unwind. She loved her Friday routine—she'd go upstairs, stick on a pair of cosy Primark pyjamas, light a scented candle, indulge in a simple dinner (usually the Gigi Hadid Vodka Pasta off Tiktok), and curl up on her sofa, flicking through the television and ultimately landing on an episode of Real Housewives.

Her back was turned as she began to clean the coffee machine. Looking at the clock, she could see it was 5 minutes to 5 p.m., and at this point, she doubted anyone would come in at this time, so she kept herself busy, cleaning away so she could rush upstairs.

4 minutes to close, and she heard the door chime. Her tranquilly was short-lived. Before turning around, she heard a man's voice: ''You're not closed yet, are you?''—that unmistakable man's voice that had been ringing in her ears and around her mind since the whole door confrontation moment. Y/N's heart dropped. Had he finally realised she was the'screechy 'neighbour playing ABBA at last?

''Oh hi.'' she smiled, throwing the cloth she was using to clean the coffee machine under the counter. ''What can I do for you?''

''Hello'' he paused. ''I'm in the mood for a sweet treat after a long day. You got anything like that?''

''Hmm,'' she hummed, her eyes scanning the very little treats she had left after her own busy day. ''I've got two slices of lemon cake or some chocolate cupcakes if you fancy?'' God, she hated this. Trying to act polite and unbothered, when in reality all she could think about was the fact that he'd probably heard her every move for the past two weeks.

''Oooh.'' He looked carefully at the baked goods, noting that there were many options. ''You know what? I'll have one of each. It's been a long day today.''

Y/N knew what he was doing. Nearly every customer did it. They'd drop subtly into conversation about how their day was going badly or what sort of plans they had later, in hopes that Y/N would entertain them for a brief second. She didn't mind usually; it was nice to hear about a stranger's life for a brief second, something to take her mind off the fact she was actually working.

But right now, she hated the fact that she probably had to entertain his huffs about having a long day. She'd look rude if she didn't—being a business owner and all—even if he had already heard her belt out the lyrics to 'Dancing Queen' not so long ago.

''Coming right up,'' she said, grabbing two boxes with branded stickers that said 'Sweetheart's Sip' on them—she'd gotten them off Etsy. ''Long day, you said? How so?''

He had taken off his backpack, leaning onto the counter. Oh, he was getting comfortable, she thought. Great.

''Just a long day of shoots. Feel like I've been around the whole of London ten times over.'' he sighed.

''Shoots?'' She looked up at him as she cut a slice of lemon cake.

''Yeah, like video shoots.'' He paused, his cheeks flushing a bit red. ''Like Youtube. I do Youtube.''

Y/N had never met a YouTuber. Sure, she'd seen a few videos over the years, her comfort watch being a classic Zoella vlog, but that was the extent of it. She much rather indulge in reality TV—'a true brain rotter', her mum would always say.

''Oh wow. That's very cool,'' she said genuinely, placing two boxes in front of the man.

He smiled and said, "That's nice of you to say. I usually get the classic 'Does that even pay well?' sort of response. ''

''Well, does it?'' she let out a small laugh, ''Only joking.''

Y/N felt proud of herself at that moment. The small talk wasn't as awful as she thought it'd be. The idea of her singing and him having an agonising headache all weekend had gone out of her head.

''Pays well enough for me to treat myself to a slice of lemon cake and a chocolate cupcake, if that's what you're asking.'' he laughed back. ''How much do I owe you?''

Usually, Y/N would have lapped up any chance to make some more cash, but considering she was serving the same neighbour she had been supposedly keeping up with all weekend with her own renditions of 'The Winner Takes It All', she thought she'd be nice.

''It's on the house.''

''You sure?'' he said, holding the two boxes in one hand and his backpack in the other.

''Of course.'' she smiled. ''Long day and all.''

''Well, thank you, then,'' he smiled. ''I'll see you around then; have a nice weekend.”

''You too,bye,'' she watched as he walked towards the door. She turned her back, picking up the cloth she had once thrown in haste, and began to clean again.

''Oh, actually,'' The voice began, and she realised he hadn't left yet. ''Did you manage to talk to my neighbour yet? Just the racket hasn't stopped since.''

She could have died on the spot. He was so dramatic. Since their little incident, she had toned it down on the ABBA tunes, stoically sticking to singing in the shower and the occasional hum of a tune as she cooked dinner—nothing outrageous.

''No, I haven't seen them yet.'' she lied.

''Right, okay. Well, I'll be off then,'' he settled. ''Also, before I go, I just want to say sorry for being short with you the other day; you just caught me at a bad time.''

She smiled. So maybe he wasn't as rude as he came across the first time they met.

''No worries, all forgotten'' she said. Lie, as if she'd ever forget that moment.

He gave her an odd thumbs up, and she watched him as he walked out of the shop, turning left momentarily and then stopping at his front door to unlock it.

'The racket hasn't stopped' She thought of his words. What a load of rubbish. If anyone had the right to complain about noise, it was her with his deafening screams that she now assumed had something to do with the whole 'Youtuber thing' and not to forget his god-awful drum and bass.

Even though he had apologised for their first meeting, Y/N sort of wished she hadn't given him those free treats now.

✩ ✩ ✩

The weekend passed with Y/N enjoying her days off, and luckily her days off were silent; there was no loud noise from next door. Y/N had seen no more of the 'noisy Youtuber' she was now referring to him as. She had wished she had gotten his name so she could have done some stalking or at least come up with a reason for all the shouting. She thought he must have been one of those crazy gaming channels.

Monday came around quickly after the weekend, a quiet day for Y/N. She'd get a few people on their work journey in for an Americano or the occasional little old lady to come in for a morning cup of tea, but that was about it. It was a slow day. But Y/N didn't mind; it meant she could do all the tasks that she had left from the week before—a little bit of admin, ordering new coffee beans, replacing any damaged cups—all that sort of thing.

She ran the cafe solely by herself, and while sometimes it felt like she was in over her head, it was also very peaceful. She was her own boss and also had no one to boss around, which she loved because she was very bad at telling people what to do - a bit shy in that aspect.

She had just finished serving an old lady a slice of carrot cake when she heard the door chime. In waltzed her noisy neighbour. For fuck sakes, not again.

He walked in, the sunlight from outside dancing upon his tousled blonde locks, casting what almost looked like a golden halo around his head. His cheeks were flushed and his face was shiny; he must have been coming from the gym.

Clad in a blue and white hoodie adorned with bold red lettering, he exuded effortless athleticism. Y/N thought if she hadn't been so hindered by his presence, she might actually fancy him. The way the fabric hugged his toned body, accentuating the contours of his chiselled frame, There was no denying that he was an attractive man.

As he moved closer to the counter, Y/N let out an exhale—a breath she didn't even realise she had been holding.

''Hello again.'' he smiled, placing a medium-sized box on the counter. She hadn't even realised he was holding anything when he entered the shop; too busy staring at his face.

''Hi.'' She smiled back at him, surprised she'd managed to even get any words out. ''What can I get for you?''

''Oh, nothing today,'' he paused. '',though the food the other day was amazing, honestly, no complaints. ''

''I'm glad.'' she grinned. She knew her baked goods were delicious, but hearing it from other people was always lovely.

''It's just that I got a parcel delivered to mine, but I think it's actually meant for my neighbour. I rang their doorbell, but they didn't answer.'' His eyes narrowed, looking at the name on the front of the parcel.

''Oh, right.'' she said. Shit, shit, shit. That's all that was going around in her mind. It's her bloody parcel, and he's got it.

''Yeah, I was just wondering if you had a way to get a hold of them. Says the name on the front is Y/N.''

She was screwed. Absolutely screwed. He knew her name. Well, he knew the name of his neighbour, but he didn't know that that same name belonged to her. All it took now was for one of her regulars to come through the doors shouting 'Afternoon, Y/N' and her cover was blown. She was truly fucked, she thought.

Y/N wasn't even sure herself at this point why she was so desperate for him to not know that it was her living next door to him. Maybe it was the fact that he had heard her sing every 80's song known to man in one weekend, but it can't have been because she'd heard him sing equally worse over the last few weeks. Sure, she had even heard his numerous shouts that still startled her; God knows what he was up to in there. But still, despite all that, she felt embarrassed at the thought of telling him now that she was the girl next door. It had gone too far now.

''I haven't heard anything from them in a while. Maybe they're on holiday,'' she lied further.

''No, I don't think so,'' his face screwed in a look of concentration as he tried to come up with something plausable as to what his'mystery neighbour' was up to. '' I heard them singing again last night. They're definitely about.''

''Oh, that's strange, then.'' The lie just kept going; she couldn't stop. She was in too deep.

''I'll have to try again later, I suppose.'' She wasn't going to answer if he came ringing her doorbell later. She couldn't even remember what she had ordered at this rate, but all she knew was that whatever was in that box was not worth the humiliation that she'd feel if her lie was exposed.

''I guess so.'' she paused. ''You sure I can't get you anything while you're here?''

He pondered for a second, his eyes scanning the menu hung up on the wall. Various coffees, teas, matcha, and cakes ''Actually, I'll take a chamomile tea if that's alright.''

''Coming right up,'' she smiled.

She moved behind the counter, grabbing a stainless steel jug to fill up with hot water. She could feel his eyes on her as she took a blue disposable cup, placing it in front of him. A little wooden spoon was placed on the side too.

Once the hot water had filled the jug, she took out a chamomile tea bag, placing it in the cup and pushing the tray towards him.

''There you go. That's two pounds when you're ready.'' she said, tapping two pounds and holding the card reader towards him.

He tapped his card and lifted the cup that held his chamomile tea on it with one hand, the box in the other.

''Thank you.'' he said. ''Hopefully, I'll see you later when you can get hold of my neighbour.''

''I'll keep you updated.'' She smiled back, the most unconvincing smile she'd probably ever made.

As he left, Y/N felt herself sink into the counter, her head hanging down. What was she going to do?

✩ ✩ ✩

The weeks passed in a blur for Y/N, each day blending into the next as she worked tirelessly to keep her cafe running smoothly. But no matter how hard she tried to push the thought to the back of her mind, the truth of her situation lingered in the back of her mind, a constant reminder of the lie she was living.

It wasn't until one fateful day, when her noisy neighbour walked through the door of her cafe, that she realised she could no longer keep up the facade.

''Morning.'' he grinned, stepping through the door, his eyes lighting up as he caught sight of Y/N behind the counter.

''Hi.'' she replied, trying to ignore the nervous fluttering in her chest. ''What can I get for you?''

''Actually,'' he smiled. ''I was wondering if you'd managed to get hold of my neighbour yet?''

Y/N felt her heart sink at his words, a wave of guilt washing over her. She knew that she couldn't keep lying to him and that she had to come clean about who she really was.

''Actually,'' she said, her voice trembling slightly. ''I am your neighbour .''

He stared at her in disbelief, his eyes wide with shock. ''You're joking, right?'' he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

''No, I'm serious.'' she replied, her voice barely audible over the sound of her pounding heart. ''I'm the one who's been causing all the noise.''

Her neighbour's shock quickly turned to amusement as he burst into laughter, the sound echoing through the empty cafe. ''You're having me on.'' he said, shaking his head in disbelief. ''All this time, I thought it was some crazy person living up there.''

''I'm sorry.'' Y/N said, her cheeks burning with embarrassment. ''But you're one to talk; don't think there's a day that's gone by where I haven't heard you shouting.''

He laughed, holding his hands up in defeat. ''That is fair; I'm sorry as well.''

She smiled, and a sense of relief washed over her. He wasn't angry that she'd dragged her silly lie out for the past few weeks. And if anything, it was amusing to her too—the pair were both as loud as each other, complaining about the other's noise - a pair of idiots.

'''Honestly, I should have guessed it was you sooner.'' her neighbour said, still chuckling to himself. ''With your little cafe here, I never see you leave.''

''Home and work all rolled into one.'' she smiled.

A silence came over the two, and Y/N couldn't tell if it was awkward or not. But the truth was finally out. There was no dancing around her little lies anymore. All the awkwardness was gone.

He broke the silence. ''Well, now that we've got that sorted, where do we go from here?''

''I mean, a proper introduction on my part is probably needed,'' she laughed. ''I'm Y/N, but you knew that already, sort of?''

A smile tugged on the corners of his face. ''Good to put a face to the name.'' he paused. ''I'm Harry.''

Finally a name, Y/N thought.

Harry. Harry, her noisy neighbour.

a/n: thanks for reading!!! part two out soon!!! split up my writing into parts so it's not too long to read. hope u all enjoyed. bit of a slow burn but more to come!!! xxx

#w2s #wroetoshaw #w2s x reader #harry wroetoshaw #harry lewis #harry w2s #sidemen #w2s fic #w2s imagine #wroetoshaw imagine #wroetoshaw oneshot #hollytoshaw #chris md #arthurtv #sidemen x reader

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that-sarcastic-writer · 1 year

Text

Bad Dreams

Re4R!Leon S. Kennedy X F!Reader

Summary: Leon has really bad nightmares after Spain, so you try to comfort him. This is just pwp

Warnings: explicit sexual content, minors dni, unprotected sex (wrap it before u tap it), p in v, brief fingering, riding, praise kink, slight somnophilia (she was already awake but hella sleepy), creampie, soft!dom leon, Leon has a mouth on him, the s in leon s kennedy stands for slut, leon has unresolved PTSD, language, established relationship, no use of y/n

WC: 2.3k

A/n: yall mfs are probably like but lia can u pls stop with the Leon shit. And my answer is no. I'm gonna write about that man until I get burn out of him. And since DI is coming out in July yall better get used to him. So yeah in the meantime while I finish my actual plot smut leon fics, here's this pwp to keep yall entertained, enjoy :)

Leon Kennedy Masterlist

Ao3 link (but like pls still rb and shit on here thank u)

Gif cred to this tumblr

Reblogs and comments are highly appreciated!

Cold, a cold, gut wrenching chill ran through his entire body. He could feel it. He could feel himself start to lose control of his mind, of his body. He was frozen, stuck in his place. Only her screams drowned the voices. Her screams, they were deafening. Heart-wrenching. He needed to save her. He had to. But he couldn't. He couldn't save her. He couldn't fucking save anyone. Don't fight it. Just give in. Let it take over. Stop fighting. There's nothing to fight for. The screams. The fucking screams..

Leon—!

Leon's eyes shot open, and he sat up just as fast. Panting, chest glistening with sweat and his hair drenched. He blinked a couple of times as if he was trying to figure out if he was still dreaming. It wasn't dark or gloomy, his bedroom wasn't cold. He realized he was in fact in his bedroom, in his apartment, and he was still alive. He took a couple of long but shaky deep breaths as he ran a hand through his hair, moving in out of his face. He looked to his right side— shit.

"Leon..?" You were still half asleep, eyes squinted as you reached out to gently grab his arm, now sitting up as well.

"Sorry. Go back to sleep babe."

"Hey," You said, now a bit more alert as you rubbed your face with one hand, "was it another nightmare?"

A month. It had been a month since he came back from Spain. And almost every fucking night he was waking himself up halfway through the night, and by extension you. He felt bad. But you didn't blame him for it, he couldn't help it. Not that you could actually convince him of it though.

"Yeah." He shook his head dismissively, eyes not meeting yours. "I'm fine."

"Do you think you can go back to sleep?" You asked softly, seeing on the clock next to his side that it was only 3:00 AM.

"Don't think so." He muttered, still not looking at you. His hands were shaking a bit, and his breathing was still uneven, like he was counting his breaths in his head at an unsteady pace. "It's fine. I'm fine."

"Leon…"

"I'm fine." He emphasized, a bit more harshly, hoping you could turn the other way and go back to sleep, to leave him to deal with his own issues. But he could never convince you of that either.

You frowned softly and without saying a single word you scooted closer to him until your chest was pressed to his arm. You left a kiss on his shoulder, and with your hand you turned his face in your direction.

"Baby, it's okay." You soothed softly, bringing your lips to his jaw. As you left kisses up his freshly shaved jaw you could feel the lock in his muscles loosen. "I'm right here. You're safe with me. You're okay."

He breathed unevenly through his nose, eyes shuttering as he turned his head fully, lips crashing against yours. Your soft gasp quickly turned into a satisfied hum. You parted your lips for him as his mouth captured yours, a large hand coming to rest at the back of your neck to bring you closer to him. You were still far too sleepy to match his intensity, but you allowed him to do as he desired. A soft grunt fell from his lips as he squeezed the back of your neck, tongue slipping into your mouth as his other hand irked up your exposed thigh— his old academy t-shirt doing very little to cover your lower half from his prying hand. But you didn't stop him, if anything you parted your thighs with ease. He groaned at this and without hesitation, he threw you over his lap, pulling you to sit on top of him.

"Mmm, you wanna ride me baby?" His tone was low, still slightly raspy from sleep, but he was anything but, he was wide awake, blue eyes big and full of need, desperate, desperate for your comfort and love. You were nodding in an instant. "Yeah? You think you can do that pretty girl?"

"Uh huh." You mumbled as you looked at him through half lidded eyes, not being able to help rubbing yourself against his clothed cock.

He exhaled unevenly through his nose, fingers squeezing your bare thighs as he lifted your hips enough to pull down your panties. He was settling you back on his crotch in an instant and you whined as soon as your clit brushed against the soft material of his boxer briefs. Leon hissed softly, bringing two fingers up to your lips. He raised his eyebrows at you, eyes commanding you without having to say the words. You happily parted your lips and he pushed the two fingers into your mouth. He hummed, watching you intently, lip pulled under his teeth as you coated his fingers with your saliva.

"Mmm yes, good." He hummed as he pulled his fingers from your mouth and instantly pressed his soaked fingers against your clit. He watched with pride as your lips fell open as he spread the wetness over the sensitive bud before he circled them around your entrance. "Fuck, did I tell you how much I missed this pussy? Wanna fuck this pussy so bad baby."

"Oh Leon— yes— please… Mhmm—!" His fingers slipped into your wet core with ease. The way he could so easily manipulate your body into submission, into needing him, it was beyond comprehension. But you didn't need to understand it. You just wanted him to use you for comfort, you wanted to make him forget. "Please Leon. Please let me ride you now."

His response was closer to a guttural groan than to any words, but he happily complied. His fingers left you as he attempted to tug down his boxer briefs, you lazily lifted your hips enough for him to pull out his cock. A heavy sigh left his lips as his cock slapped against his stomach. He reached to grab a hold of your hips, but you placed your hands on his chest and gently made him lie on his back. He looked at you with big eyes, a bit surprised by your eagerness, but fuck he'd be damned if he complained. A soft smirk tugged at his lips as he watched you clumsily and a bit messily position yourself above him, coating his cock in your slick.

"Ah— Shit, c'mon baby. C'mon." He spoke through exhales, trying his best not to force you down on his cock himself. But you were sleepy, so tired but still wanting to please him, you could take your time. And you did a minute or so later, he watched with parted lips as you slowly sank down on his cock until only a little bit was left, but he knew you couldn't fit all of him. "Ohhh yes. Yes good girl. Fuck."

"Oh— mhmm! Fuck Leon." You whimpered, nails digging into his chest as you rocked your hips, eyes already closed as you adjusted to the feeling of him before you were lifting yourself up enough to slam down on his cock, again, and again.

"Oh my sweet girl, you're doing so well," the praise came through a breathy moan, his eyes only half lidded as he watched you bounce on his cock, one hand gripping your hip and his other arm was behind his head. "Mhmm yeah, fuck yourself on my cock baby— ah— yeah, just like that."

You were trying, god you were fucking trying. Fucking yourself on Leon like your life depended on it, your moans almost as pathetic as your attempts at keeping up with the pace you both wanted and needed. Poor thing, you were holding for dear life, body over Leon's, clutching the arm under his head as your hips moved. And Leon? He didn't even look like he was breaking a sweat.

"Ugh— mhm fuck… Leon.." You were whining desperately into Leon's neck, every muscle in your body aching with heat. He could hear the shift in your voice, you weren't just whining, no, you were asking him. "Leon."

"What do you need, baby?" He moved your face from his neck, eyebrows furrowed with concern as he could feel your pace start to slow. "Why'd you stop?"

"'M sorry.. I wanna.." Oh, he got it. You wanted him to do it. A small smirk pulled at his lips. "Can you…"

"Oh pretty girl. Are you tired? I'm sorry baby, I'm sorry I woke you. But don't worry, I'm still gonna fuck you to sleep." He wrapped an arm around your torso, holding you firmly as he sat up. He moved to sit on his knees, your legs tightly wrapped around his waist. He snapped his hips, your body bouncing in his grip. Your face fell into his neck again, crying out when his cock brushed against that sensitive spot inside your walls. "Yeah, right there?"

Again, again, and again. He held you around his hips, making sure you felt each rock of his hips, and every time his cock hit your most sensitive spot.

"Yes! Fuck Leon— oh God— yes, don't stop please!"

You didn't even have to tell him. He'd be damned if he stopped before he could feel the squeeze of your tight walls, before he could hear the lewd sound of his cock slapping against your wet cunt. Never. He'd die first. He held you tight, one arm still firm over your back, pressing your chest against his, while the other hand was deep in your hair, pulling just as hard as you were pulling his.

"Mhmm I wouldn't dream of it, baby. Not gonna stop until you're screaming my name, shaking when you come— ah— can already feel it." He moaned every word, his own need for release slipping. Only you could make him lose control like this, only you could be both his instability and his comfort. It made you want to give in, all of yourself, to him. "Look at you, holding me so tight, taking me so fucking well. God. You're so goddamn perfect— agh—"

"Mmmm please… please Leon, I wanna come." You were whining the words into his neck, nails digging into his back as you held on for dear life, his punishing thrusts not once letting up, only getting you closer to falling apart.

"I'm gonna make you come, don't worry." He breathed out a laugh, lips pressed to your hair as he sneaked a hand between your bodies, slick fingers pressing down on your swollen clit. It didn't take much more for you to fall into a shuddering fit of sobs, nails digging into his shoulder blades and toes curling as your wetness seeped around his cock. "Mhmm yes, fuck yes. Good girl."

He used his other arm to pull your body up as it slouched against his chest. He only chuckled breathlessly as your body gave out on top of him as soon as you orgasm washed over you. He held you firmly as he drilled into you, now chasing his own release. His eyes were screwed shut, blonde hair sticking to his forehead as he pressed his face into your chest, rasped whimpers falling from his lips.

"Ahh— Fuck, your pussy— God— can't get enough of it. I don't ever want to leave this room. You're the only good thing in this fucked up world. The prettiest— mhm fuck." He knew he all he was saying is nonsense, and he knew you weren't fully listening, still half asleep and utterly fucked out, but you were still conscious enough to whimper his name. Like weak praises, weak and pathetic, but fuck, it was the prettiest sound he'll ever hear. "Shit. Fuck. Gonna come baby— ah yes— say my name just like that. Mhmm fuuuck."

Leon held you down on his cock, hips slightly twitching in aftershock as he spilled himself inside you with a guttural moan of your name that almost made you want to come again right then and there. It was silent for a long while as you simply held each other. His face on your chest and yours on top of his mess of bed/sex hair, and he was hugging close, damn near bear hugging you. You didn't want to move him. You knew if there was something he needed in this world was to feel safe. And you would burn the whole world just to give him that.

"Thank you." You finally heard his voice, it was mumble, almost muffled by your (his) t-shirt. You irked up an eyebrow, eyes hooded as you opened them to look at him.

"For what?" You mumbled quietly, sleep and tiredness slowly taking over you again. He lifted his head, there was this tiny smile on his face. He moved you both around until he was laying on his back again and you were laying on his chest, only then he answered.

"For making me feel… safe." He paused for a few seconds before saying the word, and you could hear the lightheartedness in his voice. Like he no longer felt that tug on his chest, or that pull in his head. For now at least. "I'm never going to forget the things that I've seen and done, I might have nightmares for the rest of my fucking life, but… when I'm with you I feel like.. Like I can breathe so.. Thank you."

You rested your hands on his chest as you leaned up enough to press a kiss to his lips. It was slow, gentle and loving. He had only started to learn about those things when he met you.

"I love you Leon." You sighed happily, nuzzling your face into his neck. He hummed softly, inhaling the scent of your hair, the fresh lavender and vanilla comforting him in the best way possible. He pressed a kiss to your hair and closed his eyes.

"I love you. And I don't think you'll ever understand just how much you mean to me."

He had nightmares every night, every night since Raccoon City. But on some nights with you, he would sleep through the night happily.

#leon s kennedy smut #leon s kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x fem!reader #leon s kennedy x you #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x fem reader #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you

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jeonginsleftcheek · 5 days

Text

The sun to me

Chapter III. Sun ray.

pairing: hwang hyunjin x afab!reader

word count: 3.4k

chapter summary: discovering a hidden place helps discover hidden feelings and the camera captures a fleeting moment of happiness.

warnings: description of a nightmare with drowning

~ Masterlist for the series

~ next part

🌻 Sunflower - happiness and positivity.

There's no air that can reach his lungs, Hyunjin realizes this as the feeling of water filling up his insides consumes his entire being.

He's grasping for a figurative straw, his arms are lifting up to reach towards the surface, where he can see the light reflecting off of it, the sliver of hope he craves to hold on to.

Bubbles leave his lips as he screams silently in panic, unable to swim up, like some kind of deep sea leviathan has gripped his ankles and it's pulling him further down.

Down where he'll disappear forever, his body becoming food for the fishes, his existence forgotten like he was never even alive.

Like his dreams, thoughts and wishes didn't matter. Like whatever painting he ever created was scraped away, washed away, faded away into oblivion.

There's warmness and comfort replacing the harsh iciness of the sea when he stops fighting against it, letting it take him into it's depths where he'll be safe from all the harm that the big bad world has brought him.

Hyunjin's eyes open abruptly and the warmness he felt in his nightmare comes in the shape of salty tears sliding down his cheeks. He coughs, sitting up quickly, feeling like the air from his lungs has actually been taken away.

He reaches for the glass of water on the nightstand and drinks the refreshing liquid with big gulps.

He shivers, eyes fluttering before he reaches up to wipe his tears away.

Hyunjin can't even remember the last time he cried, or the last time he had a nightmare like this.

Shaking it off, he checks the clock and as he slowly comes to his senses, the hope he wanted so desperately to cling onto in his dream, lingers in his chest again.

It's almost time to meet up with you.

With newfound excitement, Hyunjin slowly but surely forgets about the feeling of the cold sea enveloping him as he gets ready for the day.

His camera is a must as he grabs it last, before skipping two steps at a time as he makes his way downstairs.

"Good morning, Hyunjin."- Isaac almost scares him as he appears beside him in the hall, a newspaper in his hand.

"Oh, good morning Isaac."- Hyunjin smiles, after the mini heart attack he experienced.

"What's the plan for today?"- Isaac asks and doesn't miss the way Hyunjin's smile widens.

"I- uhm- managed to find a tour guide for the island."- he stutters out, redness spreading on his cheeks.

"Oh really? And who might that be? I know everyone here and I just wanna make sure you're safe."- Isaac half-jokes, he has every good intention in mind.

"Y/n."- Hyunjin answers and Isaac looks a little surprised.

"So, am I safe?"- Hyunjin asks as Isaac gets quiet suddenly.

"Yes, yes, very safe. I'm just a little surprised that she offered."- Isaac says, waving the newspaper around.

"How so?"- Hyunjin tilts his head curiously.

"She's kind of a... homebody. Or gardenbody, if you will."- Isaac snickers at his own joke. "Mostly keeps to herself and her flowers. But she's a good girl, really."- he finishes, with his signature warm smile.

"I thought so too."- Hyunjin nods.

"Well, have fun. I hope you'll indulge me later with a little visit to my studio."

The lump in Hyunjin's throat is back.

"I'll try."- and he really will.

With all he has in him, he will try to look deep within himself to find the strength and inspiration he lost somewhere along the way.

When your alarm wakes you up that morning, you don't feel annoyed or groggy, you feel excited.

The sun coming through the window lays on your body like a warm blanket, threatening to make you fall asleep again but your galloping heartbeat doesn't let you fall into the safety of your dreams again.

You get up with a kind of giddiness in your body, a skip in your step as you decide to wear your favorite yellow dress, the color of the sunflowers, the one kept in the back of your closet, existing only for special occasions.

The thought of spending time with and getting to know Hyunjin, makes for a pretty special occasion in your mind.

You're already planning a little route, imagining taking him to all your favorite places, the ones you saw so many times now being looked at from a new pair of eyes, the eyes of an artist with a paintbrush and a camera.

You wait for him in front of your flower shop, clutching at your little backpack, nervousness washing over you.

Hyunjin arrives on time, the sunlight making him shine brighter than any pretty jewel you've ever laid your eyes upon.

When he sees you, his face breaks into a smile as he runs his hand through his hair, a habit you already picked up on.

He's wearing sunglasses and his usual jewelry, his camera resting on his chest and a backpack on his shoulders.

"Morning!"- you greet when he's close enough.

"Morning!"- he returns the greeting equally excitedly as he cascades up to you.

"Did you sleep well?"- you ask and Hyunjin shivers a little, his lips parting as he blinks.

"Let's say I did."- he nods, pursing his lips.

"It takes some time to get used to all the smell of the varnished wood in Isaac's house."- you chuckle, starting to walk.

"Oh, you've been there?"- Hyunjin asks as he hurries up to follow you.

"Of course! Everyone's been at Isaac's."- you chuckle again. "We're like a little community here. He invites half the island to dinner sometimes. Well, when it's his son's or wife's anniversary mostly. He doesn't want to be alone then. I bring him flowers and my mom's famous cake."- you say as you approach the little restaurant you visit almost every day.

"Oh yeah, he told me about his son. Not about his wife though."- Hyunjin looks thoughtful.

"He'll tell you, I'm sure."- you say as you stop walking. "I thought we could eat breakfast first if you haven't had it yet."

"Oh yeah, actually I'm starving."- Hyunjin nods quickly, almost forgetting about the previous conversation.

You walk in and are greeted by Catherine immediately as she stands behind the bar and wipes away clean coffee cups, putting them back in their designated places.

Luna is sitting at one of the tables, coloring and lost in her own little world.

Catherine greets you, then stops when she looks at Hyunjin.

"Oh, hello there...?"- she looks at your new friend expectantly.

"Hyunjin. Nice to meet you."- he picks upon everyone wanting to meet the newcomer at their island.

"Catherine. That's my daughter Luna. And my husband, Bennet."- she points at him just as he walks out of the kitchen, carrying a plate of pancakes for his daughter.

"Oh, good morning, good people!"- Bennet smiles and you chuckle.

"Hyunjin just arrived on the island and I'm planning to show him around. But we can't really do that on an empty stomach."- you say and Catherine chuckles.

"Oh no, we can't have the two of you hungry. Why don't you two sit down and I'll bring a menu so your friend can look at it?"- Catherine says.

You take your usual spot, next to the window and she brings the menu for Hyunjin.

"You eat lunch here, right?"- Hyunjin asks as he scans the menu.

"How did you know?"- you ask, looking up from setting your backpack down on the floor.

"It's kind of the only restaurant in the vicinity."- Hyunjin chuckles and you feel your face warm up in embarassment.

"Right."- you giggle.

"Here's your lemonade."- Catherine appears.

"Ooh, can I order one too?"- Hyunjin asks.

"Of course, I'll get right on that."- Catherine says before she disappears again.

"So, what do you recommend?"- Hyunjin asks.

"Well, an omelette is always good. So are pancakes. Maybe some fruit?"- you say and he chuckles.

"How about all of it?"

"That sounds good."

After you order a little bit of everything, Luna appears next to your table.

She giggles at Hyunjin shyly, half-hiding behind your arm.

Hyunjin greets her and you bend down to her level.

"Don't be shy."- you chuckle and then sign something as Hyunjin observes the two of you and realizes that the little girl is deaf.

"Oh, okay."- you laugh, your face red, you sign something else and Luna giggles again before running away back to her table.

"She can't hear at all?"- Hyunjin asks quietly.

"No, she was born like that. But she's a happy little girl."- you smile.

"What did you sign to her last?"- he asks curiously.

"I told her she looks pretty."- you say and Hyunjin nods. "She also said that you look like a prince, and that I look like a princess."

Hyunjin sputters, almost choking on his lemonade, his hand on his chest.

"Well, not sure about the first one but I agree with the latter."

Your heart threatens to betray you in that very moment.

With tummies full and cheeks rosy, Hyunjin and you walk quietly together, the sound of gravel crunching under your feet seemingly loud in the comfortable silence.

"Have you been living on the island your whole life?"- he asks, breaking the silence suddenly.

"Pretty much, yeah. I've only moved for college shortly but I never finished."- you say.

"What did you study?"

"Journalism."

"Really?"- he chuckles. "If you graduated maybe you'd be the one interviewing me and maybe we'd meet then, in the showbiz world."

"Okay, mr. Big Shot."- you laugh and he laughs embarassingly at himself.

"Why didn't you finish? Lost motivation or?"

"My mother fell sick. Had to move back and take care of her."- you say and Hyunjin again feels like he's just here digging into people's wounds.

"Oh, I'm sorry."

"No, it's fine. It was a long time ago now. I'm glad I moved back here. I like this quiet little life. I think the big city would eat me up, honestly."- you confess, leading Hyunjin to the pretty forest behind the beach where you sat looking at the sunset the night before.

"The big city really does eat you up. You get stuck in a rut and washed away with all the other trash."

"Speaking from personal experience?"- you quirk up an eyebrow as you finally get under the shade of the big trees.

Hyunjin lifts his camera up, snapping a few pictures before he turns towards you and you lift your hand up just in time for him to snap a picture of you trying to hide your face.

"Yeah, I guess so."- he answers, the look in his eyes doleful.

"Is that why you came here?"- your finger is now pressing into Hyunjin's own wound.

"Kind of."- he says quietly. "The lifestyle I live right now is not something I'm proud of and definitely not what I wanted."

"Sometimes you have to do the things you hate to get to what you love."- you say as the two of you make your way to the neatly hidden cove you always loved to come to with your little notebooks and pencils.

Sometimes you would go there just to sit and think. Sometimes it was the only place that you could cry in peace at, your tears blending into the vastness of the salty sea, soothing and alluring.

Nobody asking you what's wrong and what they can do to make it better, because nothing can make it better, nothing except letting it all out, away from all the prying eyes and hands.

"I'm pretty sure I mostly do things I hate. Don't even know what I love about it anymore."- Hyunjin finds himself surprised with the fact that he can so easily tell you what's been weighing heavy on his mind for what feels like an eternity.

"Don't you love painting?"

"I used to. Not sure anymore."- Hyunjin shivers at the realization that it was the first time he's uttered that out loud except when he was screaming at his manager.

"I'm sure you can teach yourself to love it again. Maybe with a little help too. For example, what is your favorite thing to paint? Or was, rather."- you ask, curiously tilting your head at him as you near the narrow entrance to the cove.

"Flowers."- Hyunjin says as you come to a stop in front of the entrance and he lifts his camera up to take photos.

"I happen to know quite a lot about flowers."- you tease and Hyunjin chuckles, putting the camera down.

"Oh really now? Maybe I could use your knowledge as my inspiration if you'll let me."- he smiles and your heart flutters.

"Sure, you can come to my flower shop or garden any time."- you smile back and it's like some kind of relief keeps washing over Hyunjin whenever you smile at him like that.

"I'd love that."- he says and you lead him through the little cave out to the beach.

"This'll be a pretty picture."- Hyunjin mutters just as you turn around towards him, the beach coming into view behind you in the opening of the cave.

Click.

The camera clicks, capturing the moment in the frame forever.

You chuckle as you walk out to the cove and Hyunjin follows.

"Wow!"- he gasps. "So beautiful. How is this place still not discovered?"

"Eh, during the summer months people flood this place like moths to a flame. But during the rest of the year, it's mostly empty."

Hyunjin snaps a few pictures again.

"Maybe I should take some pics of you too."- you say.

"Be my guest."- Hyunjin doesn't hesitate to hand you his precious camera.

It doesn't do justice to Hyunjin's beauty, his face bathed in the sunlight, his eyes closed as he turns towards the sea, his lips upturned in a small blissful smile, his dimples showing.

He really looks like the lead of a romance movie, the ones you watched way too many times, knowing deep inside that you'd never be that girl who gets the main guy.

Always the girl on the sidelines, where you got used to being to the point it became hard for you to even imagine falling in love or imagine going out of your comfort zone and giving away your vunerability into someone's open palms like it was just a thing to toss around as everyone takes a turn picking at it, leaving with pieces of you.

Pieces you will never get back, leaving you with your soul bare.

You don't want that, you don't think you even know how to give that anymore.

Everything you give, goes to your flowers.

All your love, your hopes and your tears grow in the shape of stems sprouting out of the earth, blossoming into different colored petals drenched with intoxicating scents.

"Took enough?"- Hyunjin breaks you out of your thoughts and you chuckle a little.

"I think so."- you hand him back the camera before the two of you take a stroll on the beach.

Hyunjin feels like the lead in a romance movie, but there's a wall in front of him, one that is too high to climb up on, too sturdy to break and too deeply rooted into the earth that you can't even dig a hole in it.

The setting is there, the girl is there, only his heart is not. It's scared, hiding away like a wounded animal after a scuffle.

If it was a few years before Hyunjin would surely already let himself fall into you, assured that you'll welcome him with your arms wide open but that's not who he is anymore.

Whatever kind of fairytale he blindly believed in before was just that; a fairytale, not a reality he could touch with his fingertips, hold in his arms, taste on his lips.

But, he is willing to deceive himself even for a fleeting moment of happiness like this.

The walk is short and you end up sitting on the rocks and taking more photos of the picturesque beach, the conversation between you now more light, avoiding the heavy themes and instead commenting on something laugh worthy, something to alleviate the heavy atmosphere threatening to absorb you.

You take Hyunjin back through the forest, walking him all the way into Isaac's street, promising that you will show him another favorite 'secret' place on the island in the next few days.

The sun is almost setting as the two of you turn around and start making your way to your homes.

Hyunjin finally feels something.

It may be small and flickering, like a light at the end of a ceaseless dark tunnel but he can see it in the distance, welcoming him with it's warmth.

Your evening routine has never felt more special. Even though it's the same night after night, it's like there's glitter sprinkled on everything you touch, making it glow beautifully like it was something completely new.

And while you hum along to your music and cook dinner like some movie character waiting for their lover to arrive home, Hyunjin is sitting in his room.

Isaac wasn't home when he'd arrived so he just made his way upstairs, the wooden stairs creaking under his weight, each one singing a different specific song.

Hyunjin ended up sitting on his bed after a shower and a snack, his camera in his hands as he looked at the pictures both of you took that day.

There was something familiar in the sun rays bursting between trees, in the crease of his brow, in the wave of the sea, in your bright smile. It was as if all of the nature's beauty blended together and into the two of you, whispering quietly to him, coaxing him into a net of safety.

Hyunjin caught himself smiling wide at the thought of you.

A knock on the door burst his little bubble, and he cleared his throat before yelling a 'come in!'.

"Evening, Hyunjin. I was just wondering if you'd like to eat dinner with me."- it was Isaac with his warm smile.

"Of course. I'll be down in five."- he says and Isaac nods curtly before leaving Hyunjin's room.

He sets the camera aside, accidentally casting his eyes on the paintbrushes sticking out of his suitcase he hasn't even completely unpacked yet.

Something twists in his stomach and he turns away from the little devils, deciding to make his way downstairs.

Isaac looks up from preparing the table and Hyunjin joins in, helping him.

"So, how was your outing?"- Isaac asks with a small smile.

"Refreshing, honestly."- Hyunjin returns the smile. "I don't remember the last time I was this relaxed ever since I stepped foot on the island."

"Well, that is so good to hear! I'm glad this little island brings you a peace of mind like it did for me."- Isaac says as the two of them sit down.

"I used to live in the big city. Stop me if I'm wrong here but you probably feel exasperated and worn out from the lifestyle of a successful artist."- Isaac starts and Hyunjin stops him.

"How'd you know I'm successful?"- he asks with his brows lifted up in surprise, making the older man chuckle.

"It's easy to guess so. With one look at your attire, anyone can see you're well off."- Isaac concludes.

"Right."- Hyunjin nods, his cheeks becoming rosy in embarassment. "So, you used to be a successful artist too?"

"Hey, don't say used to!"- Isaac laughs and Hyunjin chuckles, apologizing before Isaac hits him with a 'just kidding'.

"But yes, I used to live the lifestyle you do now. And even with my wife beside me, I continued living the same... let's say festive lifestyle and I neglected her and my son. Ah, it's a long story for another day."- Isaac stops himself.

"Well, I'd like to hear it one day."

"The point I want to make is, don't make the same mistakes I did. If you see a good opportunity, grab it while you can."

Hyunjin can't help but think he's talking about you.

He barely manages to fall asleep that night, even after walking around and eating good food, his mind is restless.

He dreams of blank canvases and sun rays that night. He dreams of your smile and the warmth he feels doesn't come in the shape of tears this time, it comes in the shape of a good feeling blooming inside his chest.

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riordanness · 11 months

Text

wildest dreams - [p.jackson]

pairing: percy jackson x reader

wordcount: 1.3K

warnings: none

requested: yes!! (anonymous)

“In your wildest dreams, Jackson,” I scoff, staring down the boy fiercely. My sword in hand, my battle armour on, I was easy to beat this stupid son of Poseidon once and for all.

He grins at me, his smile slightly lopsided. “Okay, Red,” he teases. “Bring it on.”

I roll my eyes at the nickname. He’s been calling me it ever since he came to camp, two years ago. Ever since he found out I was the daughter of Ares, and I lived in a big ugly red cabin with a terrible paint job. I mean, I hate the cabin’s decor as much as the Aphrodite kids, but that doesn’t mean Percy Jackson gets to insult me.

I yell, and charge at him, our swords meeting in midair with a clang. I whirl, aiming for his unprotected side, but he blocks me, sidesteps, jabs at my stomach.

I stumble back, slashing at him, as anger flashes through me. I want to beat him. I have to beat him. This has been going on long enough, and I need to get my revenge.

Two years ago, Percy Jackson came to Camp Half-Blood. On his first proper day here, he tried to drown Clarisse, my older sister, and two of our other siblings. He made a fool out of Ares cabin. Then, later that summer on his stupid lightning bolt quest, he fought our father, the god of war himself, and somehow, he won. He ruined Ares’ reputation completely.

Ever since, I’ve wanted to turn Percy into a Poseidon pancake.

“Come on, y/n!” Adam, my favourite brother, cheers from the side of the arena. “Beat Jackon’s ass!”

“I’m trying!” I shout back, as Percy manages to catch the hilt of my sword in his. He’s stronger than me, and taller. He pushes down, fighting against my strength. Then, as he’s pushing his sword down, he suddenly twists, and I’m forced to let go. My weapon clatters to the ground.

There’s silence from the bleachers. Every camper there, who came to watch us duel, has no idea what to say.

I have a lump in my throat, and I don’t know how it got there. A sudden, overwhelming feeling of defeat grips me, and I send a tearful glare in Percy’s direction.

“I hate you.”

I shove past him, hoping my final words sting him as much as my loss to him stings me.

“You should let this go, you know?”

I glance up in surprise. Leah and I are on stable cleaning duty today, which is an absolutely awful job, in case you were wondering.

“Let what go?” I ask.

She waves her hand aimlessly in the air. “This whole… Percy Jackson thing.”

I raise my eyebrows, disbelieving. “You want me too, what? Forgive him?” I make a sound in my throat that’s almost a gag, almost a growl. “Hell no.”

“Come on!” Leah pleads. She’s the daughter of Athena, with pretty dark skin, dark braids, and warm dark brown eyes. She’s shorter than me, but way smarter and prettier. We arrived at camp almost the same time, three years ago. I’m still not sure why she likes being my friend, but I love Leah.

“Look,” she sighs, leaning against her broom. “I hate Poseidon as much as the next girl, and Jackson isn’t exactly my favourite person.” She grimaces, probably remembering the time Percy messed up and made her team lose at Capture the Flag. I’d won that day, so maybe I should thank Percy for his service.

“But,” Leah continues, “he’s not really a bad person. Like, yeah he’s a total dumbass and annoying and way too cute for his own good–”

“What?” I half groan, half laugh. “No he’s not.” I try to believe it myself.

Leah ignores me. “He’s not worth making your enemy.”

I sigh. “I guess you have a point…” Even saying that feels wrong. I want to hate Percy; I want to get my revenge and prove for once and for all that Ares isn’t lame, that we can be great.

But, Leah is right. There are bigger things to worry about now. There are rumours; Kronos is rising. Luke Castellan is making an army. Camp Half-Blood will be going into war.

I realise my grip on my pitchfork is so tight that my knuckles have turned white. I let go of the pitchfork, watching it fall into the straw on the stable floor and almost disappear.

“Go.” Leah gives me a little shove. “I saw him doing paperwork sorting for Chiron on the porch a little while ago.”

I give her a quick nod, brace myself, break into a sprint, running towards the Big House.

I spot Percy long before I reach the Big House porch. As I near, my footsteps slow to a walk, and I have to force myself to take a deep breath, striving for calm. My temper isn’t easy to control.

“Hey,” I call, taking the front steps two at a time.

Percy half-glances up, looks back down at his pile of letters and documents, then double takes at me. “Y/n?”

I try for a smile, waving at him with my fingers. “What’s kicking?”

“Uh–paperwork,” he replies, looking at me in slight confusion, probably wondering what I’m doing here. “For Chiron?” he adds quickly, then scrunches his nose in a way that almost makes me want to agree with Leah about Percy being cute. Almost.

I nod. “Sounds like torture to me.”

Percy grins wide. “Tell me about it.” He waves the stack of papers in the air as he gets to his feet. He’s only standing half a metre away from me now, closer than we’ve ever been without trying to beat each other up. “I never remember how much I hate being dyslexic until I try doing this.”

I bite the inside of my cheek, suddenly having no idea what to say. Percy seems to notice the awkward pause, and frowns uncertainly at me. “Why are you here, y/n? I doubt it was for just a chat.”

I let out my breath slowly. “Uh—yeah. I came to make out—I mean up! Make up.”

Percy tries to hide his smirk, and fails. I feel my jaw ache from clenching it. All my old hatred for this boy bubbles almost out of control, but I fight it, like I fight everything, and this time I win.

“Okay…” Percy muses. “Y/n, the daughter of Ares, god of war, wants peace.” He stresses the last word. “Not to mention I humiliated both her older sister and her father, when I was twelve.”

I grit my teeth and glare at him. “Do you want me to pulverise you, Jackson? Because I will.”

“Oh really?” Percy has an eyebrow raised. “But I thought you came to make up? Or was it out?”

“Why did I let her convince me to do this,” I mutter, already ready to just make a run for it. But no. Leah was right, albeit pretty frustrating and exasperating and extremely embarrassing. I did need to end this somewhat ridiculous rivalry with Percy. And I guess it was now or never, right?

“I’m sorry,” I blurt out before I can change my mind. “I’ve been stupid and selfish and I’m sorry.” I hold my hand out to him. “Friends?”

Percy stares at me, then my outstretched hand for a count of three. At first, I was almost certain he was going to leave me hanging. That would be so like him! But then, he grins, that adorable, dumbass smile I’ve known for so long now.

“I don’t want to be friends, Red,” he says, his words solemn and his tone teasing. “I’m in love with you.”

#percy jackson #pjo #fanfiction #fanfic #pjo fanfic #percy jackson x reader

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itscherrylipsforme · 7 months

Text

A love story yet to be written: Jason Todd x Vigilante!bookworm!fem!reader

Summary: The mysterious Red Hood has been your loyal teammate since you became another one of Gotham's vigilantes. Many literature puns and "subtle" flirty comments later, he has decided that it's time to meet you when you two are not covered by the city's darkness and your secret identities

Warnings: Just dozens of references to my fave classic lit authors and novels

Requested: yes

Words: About 1570

Author rambles: God, this has been on my drafts for so long. Glad I was finally able to publish it. Thanks to the anon who sent the request, hope you like it 🫶🏼

Masterlist Characters I write for

Likes and reblogs are appreciated ღ

I do not authorize any of my works to be copied, translated or plagiarized ✗

Gotham’s skies were pitch black when you submerged, like every twilight, in its streets and roofs. Masked face, combat boots, dark sweater and jeans paired with a black leather jacket and a bulletproof vest under all of it. Pointed daggers on your belt, a pair of guns attached to your back harness just in case. Being a vigilante was not an easy side job, but you needed to do it.

Some people simply can’t watch their whole world fall apart and stare blankly. And you would certainly not stay back when your beloved city was drowning in corruption and crime. Growing up you had always been aware that they were others protecting you. Batman, Robin, and the other peculiar crime fighters that had joined them with the pass of time. But being honest, Gotham was a criminals dump, and all the help they could get counted.

So, you decided to do you your bit. Trained hard, learned how to hide in the shadows and started to feel that what you did matter to your people. Recognition was not long in coming, although fame was not what you were after anyway. One night a camera caught you beating up one bastard who was trying to assault a young girl, next day you were on the news. Dusk they called you and you were not annoyed by the nickname, it suited you in a certain way.

You soon became another no-faced admired warrior to your neighbours. Not bad for the girl who used to be bookworm theatre kid back in High School. Becoming one of Gotham’s saviours was not one of your dreams job as a child, but life has surprising turns waiting for us. What was even more unexpected is that you ended up meeting one of the other vigilantes and that he had become an interesting fellow during the otherwise solitaire superhero’s nights.

“Nice to see you here in the dead vast and middle of the night, darling” He greeted you, after hearing your feet landing in the same rooftop he was in. Didn’t matter if he was backwards, you had started to think he had developed a sixth sense to notice your presence. You could almost bet he was smiling bellow his metallic helmet.

“Good night, Hodd” You answered coming by his side. “Shakespeare, wasn’t it?”

“Smart girl. Hamlet, more precisely” You agreeded “You arrived later than you use to”

“Missed me, geekie boy?” A little chuckle broke the silence of Gotham.

“Of course I did! I would not wish any companion in the world but you” He crossed his arms in front of his chest, his gaze locked in the city’s sky. “And admit it, you are as much a nerd as I am”

“The Tempest? Have you been rereading Uncle Willy’s plays again?” The question ended up sounding like a half-joke half-teasing “And you are right, bookworm and proud. We wouldn’t get along so easily if I weren’t. I declare after all that there is no enjoyment like reading”

A slow nod was the only answer you received. You were certain that a smile was decorating his face at the moment. But not in a million of years you could have imagined that his usual smirk was now followed by a pinkish tone in his cheeks. How long he had been like this around you? He couldn’t recall exactly. This flirting slightly hided between book quotes and glances had been part of your friendship for quite sometime now.

The only problem? He couldn’t bear with being just a friend anymore. When it had all started? He didn’t know. Maybe the night he met you. And when the two of you started patrolling together like every other night, he couldn’t help coming back to those sweet memories still fresh on his mind.

“Another superhero wannabe” that’s what he thought when he first saw you moving from celling to celling without the grace and rhythm that only years of practice can give you. And he was not wrong, you were an amateur, one who still need to practice, but you definitely were determinate enough for that. Jason was not aware of this, therefore he decided to have some fun.

“What are you doing here?” He asked jumping to your side with a voice tone much deeper than his usual one.

“Patrolling” You managed to say in a whisper, rising your head to look at him directly. Shivers run through your spine, not knowing what to do. But you would not allow him to notice your fear.

“Scared of me darling?” He leaned a little so he could be nearer to your face.

“Not even a little, I know who you are” You answered and somehow the most daring and wittiest part of your mind chose to add the next sentence “And also there is a stubbornness about me that never can bear to be frightened at the will of others.”

“My courage always rises at every attempt to intimidate me.” He finishes almost instinctively.

He stared at your for some instants, not believed the words that had just come out of your lips. Another vigilante? Who quoted Austen? The night was turning up to be quite interesting.

“You are a sharp girl, with a good book taste” He resolved. “Red Hodd, at your service” He offered you his hand and his presentation, although it was no needed.

And that’s how all started, now a few months later you two keep protecting Gotham from whoever and whatever treats it. This night had been tranquil, a seldom occurrence, and Jason hadn’t talked to much, his mind was focused on a matter which had been troubling him for weeks. When the first rays of light threaten to appear, it’s time to farewell. Not without cracking some bad puns first of course.

“But soft! What light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and Dusk is the sun.” He smirked once again.

“First, that’s contradictory. Second, you seriously have to get over your Shakespeare era”.

“Does that mean I don’t get a proper goodbye?” Even with his voice modulator you could hear the teasing edge on the question.”

“Of course, you do” You tried to come up with something silly, yet sweet. “Good night, sweet prince, and flights and angels sing thee to thy rest!”

With that you made a small joking bow and left the rooftop to go back home. It had been enough; Jason had made out his mind. He was going to look for you. He needed to see the unmasked face who had been able to be the first one to win his heart. Luckily, one of his many siblings is a professional hacker.

A bookstore, somehow, he was not surprised at all when Tim found your worked there. In his jean’s pocket there was a small piece of paper with dozens of cheesy books lines that made him think of you. "You are part of my existence, part of myself. You have been in every line I have ever read." "We would be together and have our books and at night be warm in bed together with the windows open and the stars bright." “You should be kissed and often, and by someone who knows how” … And those were only the first ones. There were not enough words in the books from your bookstore to describe how nervous he was and how much he wanted to tell you he loved you. But he could at least try.

Your elbows were resting on the counter, another novel laying in front of you. When the doorbell rang announcing another client, you immediately smiled and looked at Jason. You left your seat to meat him by the door, the book long forgotten.

“Took you long enough to find me, geekie boy” You gritted him.

All his speech and quotes banished in the air with just a single sentence of yours. He finally came to himself.

“Wait, were you waiting for me?”

“Of course, I did” You chuckle, God he loved that sound “For almost two months, after all your bad pick-up lines I thought you would be ready to come and met me in person”.

“But… How have you recognized me?” Confusion was still seen on his face.

“Easy. Looked for the libraries and bookstores that had your favourite tittle. Cheeked the names of all the men who borrowed or bought them. Looked for their photos on the internet and compared them with the physical description I had from your” You shrug your shoulders as that work was nothing to you “I am a vigilante after all”.

“I have a brother who would love to meet you, you know?”

“Maybe later, but I guess you came here because you had something to tell me”.

He took a deep breath. Just a few hours, that was all he needed to win you over this time. "In vain have I struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed.” He said softly, but determinate “You must allow me to tell you how ardently I love and admire you.”

Just after he finished your lips were meeting his in a soft and sweet kiss, like the ones written in romance novels.

“You have bewitched me, body and soul” You whispered to his ear.

“Actually, that’s from the movie, not the book”.

You had to kiss him again, this time with more passion, to shut him up.

#jason todd x y/n #jason todd x reader

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