#hit me up if you ever want to brainstorm
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Photo
The hearts 💕💕💕 (is he thinking of Gaya? Probably). I love this so much!!!! Another amazing piece of art, @twofoxes!
Yes, he absolutely commands whatever room he’s in. When I was in my cabin making a costume change, I could literally hear him shouting. The door was closed. Our cabin was on the floor between the Atrium and Crown of Corellia 😂
Not that I’m biased 😌, but if you want to try First Order the next time, you absolutely should. It was a lot of fun, ngl. And I personally found it less overwhelming than the Resistance track. It was just the right pace (I did a lot of the Scoundrel path as well and there was room for both, so yay!).
There are a lot of ways you can play FO without going into it already being a villain. You could always be recruited on ship (like me lol) or serve as a double agent (are you really working for the FO? Maybe not 😉). But yeah, my advice is to make whatever character you want for your next cruise, but think about how they might be even temporarily swayed to help out Croy rather than the Resistance.
My character had a specific reason why she helped Croy, but she also just thought he was Real Neat so it made helping him out that much easier 😂 Charisma is a thing.
Tumblr media
The one, the only… Lt. Croy <3
What a freaking scene-stealer this one. We were really not expecting to board the Halcyon and immediately fall in love with a First Order officer and all start regretting our decisions to support the Resistance. Next cruise (and there WILL be a next cruise) I’m ABSOLUTELY going to try to do the First Order questline, as… morally… as I can? We’ll see, I guess lol
24 notes · View notes
haloslips · 19 days ago
Text
i need to brainstorm my trevor to seattle fic (aka trevor's horrible awful terrible no good very bad early hockey career) w someone so bad but i have like kind of specific requests for ways for someone to help me which feels really weird to ask AND i need to trust their trevor opinion
1 note · View note
goldsbitch · 1 month ago
Text
monaco kiss .wav
Lando's mildly exhibitionist dreams came true. Due to genius sound engineering, the world can now listen to him and his girlfriend having sex, without a clue it's them.
the track mentioned and referenced (no need to listen to it to get the story, go and be free): French Kiss - The Original Underground Mix, Lil'Louis, The World (credit where credit is due)... 05:30 is the timestamp
word count: 7k
warning: smut, minors DNI, p in v, oral sex, voice notes, colapinto level amount of the word "mate"
PS: i rarely do, but I fuckin love this one
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
If there was ever a place where Lando could spend hours and hours on end, it was the blue couch at Martin Garrix's personal studio. That piece of furniture was the peak of comfy. He'd asked many times where he got it - if only Martin could remember that.
The whole studio has a cozy vibe around it. A safe space for the F1 star to escape the ever-present eyes of the public, a timeless place where he could wind down and sit passively, while his friend digged notes for hits of the future. They'd often sit for hours in silence, just winding down.
To Lando's joy, the ultimate friend chemistry he had with Martin also worked for him and his, not-so-new-anymore, girlfriend Y/N. In fact, the moment these two met, it was clear that Y/N would quickly become a frequent member of their private recording sessions.
But this time, she had to be in a different city due to work, so it was just the boys, the olden days. Back when Lando would actually dabble in DJ'ing. Those days were long gone, but...It wasn't a rare thing that Lando would help and brainstorm ideas, chord progressions or effects applied to the tracks. What the public didn't know was that he was a loud creative force behind some elements in Martin's recent tracks. Lando had almost threatened him, urging to keep this behind closed door. He wasn't gonna Leclerc this one out.
"You look beat, mate," said Martin finally after nearly two hours of staring into track nods. Lando finally looked up from his phone.
"I'm waiting for you to be done, bro," he replied simply, reffering back to their debate regarding this latest track. A pause. "You know my opinion."
Max turned around to face him, only to find a signature overplayed smirk looking back at him. "You know what, I'm a fucking renowned producer, and you have the decency to come and tell me my track is shit?"
Lando did not flinch. This as a fairly normal way they'd speak together. "Well, someone apparently has to," he shot back, challenging Martin to flip out.
"Screw you," he replied and turned back to face his three monitors. Lando waited patiently, knowing that this was his signature first reaction to criticism. He always came around eventually. Max was his friend. And he would do everything to stop him from releasing crap. "Ok," he heard the DJ say, caving in to his doubts. "I am too deep in this track anyway. Tell me what you think."
"Mate, you said you wanted to do something more experimental. You forgot to add boring," Lando deadpanned.
Martin sighed loudly and leaned back to his chair.
"Don't get me wrong, I fucking love how you go from like - what, 120bpm?-"
"135-"
"Yeah, whatever," Lando said, not happy when Martin used his i-know-music-theory-and-you-don't tone. "As I was gonna say, the come down from the fast tempo to the painfully slow one, in the middle of the track, kind of works. It's certainly nothing like I'd heard play anywhere lately. But like, there is nothing in the production that makes it stand out? Like no real build up or interesting sound."
Lando knew it was brutal from him. But he wasn't there to pat his friend on the back. Just like Martin would never fake compliment his on a bad race. To Lando, this was peak friendship.
Martin hit quick save and closed the file abruptly, startling a minor panic in his friend. Did Lando overstep?
"Come on, mate. Don't copout now."
Martin was visibly startled. "Maybe I just need to put this one down for a moment. Lando did not know what to say to that. He might be right.
"Cig break?"
//
They were standing at the small balcony connected to main entrance to the studio, cigarette smokes mixing together. Yeah, Lando did enjoy an occasional smoke break with his friend. A guilty pleasure one might say.
"So, what was the starting point of the track?" he couldn't help but ask, still not happy to see his friend aborting something he'd spend hours on.
Martin gave him an annoyed look, but did not hesitate to reply. "Remember how the conversation I had about techno tracks being awfully predictable?."
Lando eyes shot up. "Wait, that weird chick you ran into in Germany?"
Rarely would Martin blush, but today was a lucky day apparently. A mocking snort came as a reaction from his friend. "Mate, I don't remember ever seeing you so flustered because of a girl." Few weeks ago, Martin had the fortune of meeting someone who he called "the love of his life" in a random club. And that girl had the audacity to leave him on read for hours. Him, Martin Garrix. Infuriating.
"Yeah, well, fuck you. She was real cool, alternative and reminded me of why I got into music in the first place. Let's revisit how insufferable you were when you met Y/N." Lando exhaled, forever happy anytime anyone ever brought up him and Y/N meeting. If it were up to him, that would be the only thing he's talk about. Getting to know her was like the best kind of drunk one can get. Tipsy enough to make everything fun and perfect, and not too much to get lost in it.
"Fuck off, I was never as insufferable as this," he defended, deep down knowing he might have been even worse. But, he and Y/N ended up dating. Poor Martin was desperate even for a reply.
"Whatever," Martin remarked and put his cigarette out in the overflowing ashtray. This small gesture reminded Lando why he was friends with this guy, the precious safe-space he managed to create. If there was a moment to act as a friend, it was this one.
"Shut up and let's get back to the track. We just gotta let loose a bit, that's all," he said, determined to get Martin out of the rut of his own head.
//
They'd been sitting for another hour, the sun long gone from their sight, two vodka soda's mixed from personal studio bar in, dozens of old tracks analyzed.
Martin played the middle section once again. Lando's head was mindlessly nodding into the beat they'd added and it was starting to look kind of good for the track. But it was not exceptional. And if Lando was trying to help Martin get the attention of some pseudo-pretentious alternative chick, they had to step up their game.
"Can you recall any track which uses the same level of tempo slow down? We could like, I dunno, look into why it works when other people did it and maybe something will come up." Lando often drew inspiration from other artists, something Martin usually hated. But, desperate times.
The racer watched the DJ and suddenly, as it was as if the musical equivalent of the DRS just hit him, his eyes went wide and he stood up.
"Of course!" Martin exclaimed and started pacing around the room. Lando was obviously surprised and kept still, hoping for the best, really. He watched his friend, walking back and forth around the room, deep in his own thoughts and searching for something on his phone.
"Yes! That's it," he finally said happily and put a song up to their loud speakers. The excited look he gave to Lando was almost scary. "You're gonna absolutely love this one," he continued with absolute confidence.
Lando prayed for this to be good, otherwise he was going to have to start getting worried about his friend's sanity, based on the crazy eyes.
The song started with a steady, four-on-the-floor beat (or that was what Lando had assumed). It was a typical 1980's techno track, fast, repetitive with a strong bass line.
But they were almost four minutes in and nothing that would stand out in any way was coming out of this track. Lando could not help but give Martin a doubtful look, not really getting what he was excited about. But Martin was there, nodding his head to the beat, in his own world. He must have sensed Lando's so-far-unimpressed expression, so he shot him a quick smile and gestured for him to wait. Finally, something started to happen and just like in Martin's new track, the music started to slow up on the tempo, quite dramatically. It got Lando somewhat hooked. And then-
And then! He thought he was imagining things. That his mind created sounds in his own head out of boredom.
Instead of a new instrumental added a vocal component was added. The most sensual female moan started to dominate the track, as the tempo kept slowing down. Lando felt his stomach dropped and hair and the back of his neck stand. It was sensual, almost vulgar in fact. Like some sort of elegant porn track playing over the original beat. Unapologetic. And it was increasing. What started as a somewhat socially acceptable sigh, turned into a full on orgasm moan - and as the music almost stopped, the female voice was taking on the main stage, full on peak. Thank God the walls were sound proofed. Lando cock was twitching. He tried to ignore Martin, who was grinning like a school boy first time seeing a porn video. And once the voice finally reached a peak, the music started to pick up, leftover moans cutting through the beat. Only then was Lando able to look Martin in the eye and got out of the semi-trance this track got him into. Finally the tempo fully picked up and the nine minute song was over.
"Uhh..." Lando got his initial reaction out and stared into the screen. Martin was there, unable to contain his laughter.
"You look flushed, mate, you good?" he teased, obviously pleased with himself for getting Lando out of his comfort zone.
Lando was finally getting back to Earth and couldn't help but to release a girl-like giggle. "Yeah, mate...I think if you do something like that, you will break the internet almost definitely."
What Martin could not know, because they did not have that kind of a relationship, was that Lando's phone was full of noise recordings of him and Y/N having sex. She was quite a vocal person. And he was a bit of a naughty boy, asked for a permission to record a sex tape nearly dozens of times. His girlfriend was probably right in refusing to do so, given the fact that if a video got out, it would be a disaster for both of them. But, an audio? One without any names mentioned? That was something she felt comfortable. And it as this thing Lando was using to get himself off when he was traveling alone for the past few months. So yeah, Martin hit the nail on its "head" with this one.
Lando gulped, trying to get himself back in the right headspace and not thinking of all the times Y/N screamed and moaned for him while bent over a table or laying in a silky bed.
"I fuckin' love this idea, mate. I'm gonna check with the lawyer team and see if I can go and sample this or something," Martin said, his tone indicating he was happy and done for the day.
"Yeah. This would work," Lando replied, unable to tone his voice down to his usual octave.
//
It was a surreal plane trip home to Monaco. They'd wrapped at the studio and Lando was headed directly to airport. This was proving to be unfortunate, as there was no time for him to go anywhere and take care of the problem growing in his pants. He had never listened to their voice notes in public, but he could not find any sort of self-restraint not to do so that day. Shamelessly walking around the private lounge area with a ragging boner and sex noises blasting in his headphones. He prayed for no fans showing up. At one point he was debating just beating it off in the airport bathroom. A teenager he had not been for a long time now.
And like a cruel joke, a voice memo landed in his messages from Y/N precisely at the time he as about to board his flight.
A part of him hoped it was a voice note of her jerking off. Sadly, it was not.
"Hey, my love, I hope you're all good and will make the flight. I've had such a boring day and can't wait to see you," she said a tone so sweet Lando felt almost guilty for walking around with thoughts of her on all fours, begging for his cock. It brought him back to normal, which was probably for the better. "Anyway, I'll be at home, let me know when you're coming." He smiled, loving the fact they were there for each other even in the innocent sort of way. "Aaah, what a day," she ended the voice note with a moan. A fucking tired sort of sigh. Normally, it would be a very casual thing for Lando. But did it sound like something out of their sex tapes? Of course it fucking did. "Mmmm.." And with that, the voice memo ended and Lando's boner was right back on.
//
"Hi, my love."
"Hello, sweetheart."
It was something he was proud about. Teaching her to sleep naked. Sleeping in clothes is close to committing a crime when she has a body like that. Clothes were for the outdoors anyway. It was doing something to his ego to see she fully accepted that. To his luck, he found Y/N just like he wanted - bare, snuggled up in their bed under a criminal amount of duvets, but most importantly, given his current state, still somewhat awake. She was giving his the most inviting look he'd ever seen on a human.
"Are you hitting the shower?" Y/N asked, pushing the duvet closer to her neck, as if to cover herself for some reason. Lando found that more than amusing and shook his head.
They'd exchanged few pleasantries, mundane questions while we was undressing and finally crawled into the bed with her. As a natural move, she shifted, letting him to be the big spoon. He caressed her hair before stepping in. Changed his tone from casual to bedroom. Finally.
"You and me baby, just us. How it's suppose to be."
Flirting was a second language to Lando and he was not afraid to use it.
"I see you kept the bed warm for us," he said, warmed his hands by blowing his hot breath on both of them. When he was sure that his body adapted from the chilly outdoors air to their hot flat, he started tracing lines on her body and pressed his crotch to her ass, to test her reaction, and see if he got lucky and caught her in the right mood.
He wouldn't be able to see it, due to the fact he was spooning her from behind, but her eyes shot wide open as his ragging boner pressed on her and a cheeky smile crept in. She answered by moving back to him, and arching her back. Loud, horny sighs from Lando followed.
"I see you've been a good boy, am I right?" she whispered sensually.
And fucking yes, he was a good boy. She'd often reward him when he manage to obstain from jerking off when they were suppose to see each other. If he had been hard before, they would need to come up with a new name for what he was experiencing after hearing his hard work being acknowledged.
He gulped, trying to keep his some cool in his voice. "You can guess twice," he challenged and pushed his body towards her, squeezing his dick between their bodies. She giggled and turned on her back to face him. Tried to kiss him slowly, but he was having none of that. Once the door was opened, he took the lead and kissed her with all of his pent up hunger. His hands were holding her jaw in place, as if she was going to slip away - which was the exact opposite of her plans. Soon enough she kissed back with similar urgency, roaming her hands on his chest and pulling his ever-so-curly hair.
"I need you," she whispered when he reached away to take in some air.
He grinned, happy to have some sort of level of upper hand, given how down bad he actually was.
"Have you been a good girl, sweetheart?" he asked, expecting the same answer he gave her. His cheeky fingers started exploring her upper thighs.
She waited a moment. "No, I haven't," bit her lip. This took Lando as a surprise and he opened his mouth in disbelief.
"Well, would you look at that..." he said, secretly loving this side of her. Horny little angel, getting herself off. In his mind, it was like she'd been training for him. He gripped her thigh, making her gasp.
"I think you might still find some evidence on the sheets," she whispered, and it was exactly that sound that was a turning point of Lando. He flipped over to tower her and slammed his lips towards hers. He opened her legs with his hands and started exploring her core - and it was exactly as she said it. Still wet from her on fingers, as he'd imagined.
"Well then, we'll do this on my terms. You understand?" he said in a playful tone. "What are you?"
She knew what answer he was looking for. "Bad girl," she sighed as he fingered her in a way that could not be described as gentle. Soft moans started escaping her mouth and that was the main thing Lando was longing for.
"And what am I? For keeping myself full for you?" he asked, trying to keep her on the edge with his moves.
Her eyes were now shut and her arms locked around his back, same as her legs. "Good boy," she sighed.
"Exactly. So do me a favour," he said, kissing her again, "be loud for me tonight. Make my ears ring and wake up the neighbours. Otherwise I'll make sure you don't get what a good girl gets." Both of them knew there was not a single cell in Lando willing to keep his empty promise. She was going to finish multiple times and he'd work for it the whole night if he had to.
Back arched. Lando's fingers doing the God's work. "Yes," she almost choked on her breath and let out an honest and beautiful sound.
It was already getting too much for Lando, he stroked himself few times and then slid into her wet cunt, as if it was his home.
And boy, was it better than any home he'd ever know. He warm wet, almost dripping cunt welcomed him in the sweetest of ways. Lando waited few seconds for both of them to adjust before he gripped her legs and swung them over his shoulders. It was a dance they'd practiced countless times before. She knew to clench her legs and provide support for him to be able to fully start launching into her.
He gave her one more lustfilled look before he thrusted for the first time. The thing he was specifically looking forward was the way how the breath escaped her throat in almost surprised way - as if she was not expecting this to happen. Pure pleasure overruled any thoughts he was having pretty quickly. The way her walls clenched over him was a sensation very few things could compare to. It was so easy to start moving faster and harder. He lived for the sight of her, lying down beneath him, eyes closed and finally, after few more perfectly placed movements, first moans started to escape her lips. He wanted more, tonight he needed it all. Speeding up, gripping her legs tighter. And with that, he watched as her boobs were bouncing back and forth, a sight so glorious he had to put one of his hands on it. All that she was somehow trying to hide in, started to come out. Face stuck in a scream like position, hands gripping Lando's arms and the most glorious of it all - the silent moans growing into muted screams. And once he added even more speed, those turned into unhinged screaks. He didn't even notice him own mouth stuck open. Breaths were getting heavier and heavier, drops of sweet sweat were falling on her torso and slowly Lando moved his hand over to from her boobs to the crease of her neck and squeezed just a little bit, the way he knew she liked. He didn't mind that the sound she made got a little muffled - he could feel the sound coming from her throat before it left her body.
And then finally, Lando felt almost a hot liquid hit his dick and gradually bounce over to his lower stomach as he moved even quicker than before, knowing well enough that when this happened to her, the incoming orgasm was about to be glorious. He thrusted, fully focused on her expressions and loud screams.
When her release happened seconds later, he nearly came himself. By some miracle, he managed to hold it of for just few more minutes. He kept thrusting, while he felt her body collapse momentarily, complete hard shut down. More liquid came out of her and Lando wished he could fuck and lick her at the same time.
And just like that, she was back again, panting hard and finally, eyes open once again. Her fucked out face challenging him once again. She smirked and tried as much as he could to keep up his tempo. It always took her one orgasm to bounce back and become more active. Lando wished he could go on for hours, but his dick almost begged him to allow the release. He wasn't gonna deny himself pleasure tonight.
"Say my name," she said in a loud demanding tone, stern look on her face. He wanted to chuckle, always finding it amusing how she went from almost a comatose princess to a challenging boss girl in seconds. After he made her come, of course. But Lando's mind was truly getting blurry at that point. He kept saying her name as like some sort of prayer as he carried himself to the heavenly release. It was the ultimate relief, dipping in a hot water, getting charged with electricity, tasting the sweetest drink, stepping into the hottest sunshine. Whatever kind of pleasure Lando could think of, nothing would ever mount to finally releasing it into her, especially after a long, oh so long, build up.
And with that, he fell next to her. Heave panting on both sides of the bed, before either of them spoke.
"All good? Are you ok?" he asked, just like he always did after they'd slept together. The thought of her not having a good time haunted him. He was aware that it sometimes came out more anxiously than he intended to, but who has a proper working brain after a sex session.
Y/N turned at him, blissful smile on her lips. "Oh yeah, baby. Love when you come home like this."
He smirked, getting some of the blood back to his brain. "Hmm, I also love coming home."
Their fucked out minds chuckled at the stupid joke. He gathered all the remaining strenght, got up and cleaned her up.
"Oh God, I've missed you," she complained into the no quiet room, still filled with sex air.
"You have no idea, how much I did, sweetheart."
//
It had been a good few weeks before Lando found himself once again in Martin's studio. This time Y/N was able to join him on the iconic couch. They sat, her legs relaxed over his, Lando's hand stroking her shins innocently. Physical touch boy if there ever was one.
Light banter laced the evening, few sips from Martin's signature vodka sodas and general lightness of the company were bound to end up with Martin sharing his latest relationship news. The alternative girl he met in Germany? Yeah, that was over. However, the track was definitely not.
"Ok, but like, I'd never seen you this anxious about a new track before," Y/N spoke, feeling like there was something these two guys were walking around, somewhat afraid to say hat it was.
Martin and Lando shared a look. There was not a single bone in Lando's body that was afraid of Y/N reaction to this track. He way in fact dying to know what Martin has done with it in the past few weeks. Martin was not allowed by his label to send any demos, only to show them in person. Well, he was not even allowed that, but it's not like they were there with them in the room. Martin raised his brows while looking at Lando, as if to look for a permission. Lando nodded, secretly looking forward to seeing what Y/N had to say about their newest idea.
"Well, I'm actually still working on a track we tried to finish when your boyfriend was here the last time," he said reluctantly.
"Yeah mate, I'm stoked to hear what you recorded," Lando said, trying to add some entusiasm to Martin's speech.
Martin's face formed a small frown. "Well, I'm worried, mate. Listen for yourself, it might be just me hearing this track for too many times. But, I'm afraid it does not work."
This took Lando by surprise - he was full on expecting a hot, sexy banger.
Martin did not add anything and upon Y/N's plea for finally play it and with zero protests on Lando's side, he did just that.
So they listened to the almost six minute track. The instrumentals were basically in the exact same state as when Lando was there for the last time. Intrigue filled his body as the tempo slow down came - it must have been time for the moaning to start. He could not wait to see Y/N's reaction. Was there a chance she would actually be mad and consider it tacky?
He didn't let her out of his sight, no matter how much Martin tried to catch his eye. Y/N sat there, her usual focused face on, as per any other time they'd listen to a new track.
And just like that, it took Lando only few bars of the part with the moans to understand where Martin's disinterest came from. This wasn't the right vibe. There was absolutely no comparison to the original track they'd based this on. It was a weak mockery of that whole idea. Sounded cheap, almost fake and with no atmosphere whatsoever. A face of slight disgust formed on Lando's face and he temporarily forgot he was watching Y/N for her reaction. They finally exchanged a look with Martin, both knowing this was just not working. While the girl moaning into the track had a perfect pitch, something was just not right.
Only when the moans and sighs part of the track ended he noticed the look on his girlfriends face and started actually feeling embarrassed. Will she think this as his idea and that he is a pervy simpleton? That he actually likes this?
He started his defense before she'd have any time for a reaction.
"That's not good, mate," he stated the more than obvious. Martin nodded, his expression hard to decipher. "It was not meant to sound this cheap."
"Yeah, don't know what to tell you. We recorded this with like two other producers in the room, this girl is apparently a good porn actress with a perfect pitch. But it sounds just like that. Like, I wanted to create a hot track, this is just cheap and kind of sad."
Lando gulped, almost fearing Y/N's reaction.
And boy, was she staring at him. It almost caught him of guard. Definitely silenced him. If he had to describe it, it would something along the lines of shooting arrows. Lando felt very small. But then, like by some sort of miracle, the corner of her lip turned up and a cheeky smile started to form. Martin knew more than interfere in their silent conversations and turned around to leave them be. A shot of confidence went though Lando's bloodstream and he gave Y/N a questioning look. Almost wanting to challenge her to say something. She shot her eyebrows up and tried to bite her smile away. Lando played dumb and shook his head, as if he did not understand. With that, she nodded toward his phone that was lying next to his hips. Lando's eyes went wide and his heart rate went up. Is she really suggesting this?
Out of nowhere, her look still firm on Lando - who stopped blinking a long time ago - she spoke, probably more to Martin than her boyfriend.
"I love the idea, and I think it could catch on really well. But like you said. You can't fake that if it's suppose to be good. Any girl will se right through this anyway."
Was Lando about to fall in love all over again?
"So what, am I suppose to pay someone to fuck in the studio?"
The silence that followed was a heavy, awkward, hot and hilarious one. Many looks were exchanged between the three of them before, as they say, all the pennies dropped.
"Oh my God," Martin exclaimed. Neither Lando or Y/N reacted in any verbal way, however Lando did raise his eyebrows in order to stop his smile from growing. Failing at that miserably. Suddenly, he was more than aware of Y/N legs near his crotch.
Martin shook his head, as if he became prudent out of nowhere and spun on his chair few times, most likely thinking it over. Lando was about to step in to ease the tension, but Y/N was faster.
"It would be the easiest way to test if the track works, just saying," she commented and Lando tried to stay as still as possible, almost worried that if he moves to much, he might wake up.
To potentially have his girlfriends orgasm voice blasted anonymously in clubs all around the world was doing some thing to his semi-exhibicionist persona, which he had to keep buried deep down. Things he had a lot of trouble admitting to outloud.
The conversation was continuing, no matter how spaced out and horny Lando became.
"Ok, say it works. Are you ok with this staying on the track?" Martin asked Y/N only. He knew his mate well enough to figure he'd be more than fine with it.
Y/N seemed to think about it, in a serious way, for few moments. The air felt oh-so-heavy to Lando. Please, say yes. Both of you.
"As long as it stays anonymous and nobody else, not even your label ever finds out, I say we go and give it a try," she answered and turned over to her boyfriend. He knew the look she had on her face more than well. It was the same one she'd have after agreeing to press record on their personal sex voice memos. And it was doing things to him.
It looked like Martin was coming around with the idea.
"Fuck it, ok then. I guess, I'll just press the button and give you guys some space in the recording room. But like, bare in mind I only need her, not you," he hinted over to Lando, "and for the sake of our friendship, I'd really appreciate if you kept it clean in terms of dirty talk. I don't want this to be the reason I died. Also no...mess please. Ugh."
Lando downed his drink, still unable to believe this was happening, and finally spoke again. "I'm sure there is a way to make sure we get only Y/N's voice."
Images flooded their heads - for Y/N very much wanted, to perfectly contrast Martin's reaction, who was sitting on the complete opposite of the excitement spectrum.
"Ok, let's go with it before I change my mind," Martin said and began prepping the recording room.
Lando squeezed his girlfriends hand, to make sure she was really ok with it.
"I love you," he whispered, unable to hold it in.
"Me too. I'm happy you don't think of me as slutty or perverted," she replied, hint of shame for the first in a long time creeping on her face.
"I would never....We can stop whenever, if you stop feeling it, ok? Please promise you'll let me know."
There was a look on her face he couldn't put a name on. "Thank you."
Martin coughed demonstrateively. "Lando, come over. I'll tell you what to do." Lando eyebrows shot up once again. "Not like that, with the recording, you weirdo," Martin exhaled, already regretting the decision.
//
"So, the recording is on, have a good one, I guess," were Martin's last words before Y/N was about to have a series of little deaths.
And with the click of the door, they were alone. Deep dark silence. Never before has she seen Lando stare at her this much like a hunter would at his prey. His good name was on the line. Maybe not for the whole world, but he had to show his best bud he can make his girl come. And perhaps something more than that.
The room was small, light dimmed out.
"So, what do you have in mind?" she asked softy, still not quite in the same feral mood Lando was in. He crossed over the distance between them slowly to put a finger on her mouth.
"No words, remember?" he reminded himself probably more than her. His plan was never to fuck her here. She'd soon find that out.
With ease and confidence only those who kissed each other countless of times, he locked his lips with hers. His hand in the back of her hair, pulling, not gently. Her tongue rolled over his and she bit his upper lip, to return the favor perhaps. Her head bent back and he follow the train to her collarbone with pecks. With ease, he started walking her over to the chair here the recording artist would usually sit. Today, she'd be the main act and he her muse. She was regretting not wearing a skirt that day. He saw no issue when he pulled her jeans down. He was already hard and just had to squeeze himself for few times, a mindless action. No doubt in his mind that before the night calls quits that day, he'd see his own release. She noticed his moves and tried to get in on the action, only to somewhat wake him up from his own selfishness as he stopped her hands reaching his crotch. Another head shake - hopefully, this time she'd get the hint.
Her eyes were filled with hot wanderlust and with that, she gave up on trying to take the lead. He smiled and got rid of her panties as well.
Two strong hands popped her up on the round chair with no back rest. One last kiss on the lips before he knelt down. Stomach tingled with anticipation. Lando was taking his time, slowly kissing his way up her legs. The ever so blue, green and whatever colored eyes glowing with lust. He stopped at the spot where thighs and knees bend, his tongue finally out, as if for a practice run. Only recently he found out about her secret soft spot. He watched her face relax and give in, first pleasure arriving. He was the moon and her body a shore, waiting for the waves.
Long heavy breath. Lando wanted, needed more. He progressed further and further, until the only place left to go were her folds and wet core. But before that, he didn't for get to leave few bite marks on her upper thighs. Quick catch of breath and her hands buried in his curls. Watching him as if the gods had sent him to ruin her.
And they might have. Normally, he's utter few cheeky lines before dipping his tongue deep into her, but the looks were all he could use this time.
Relaxed and come for me, baby. Drip all over this chair and make them know I can make you scream.
His tongue could as well be completely dry and it would not matter. They way how he was all over her got her wet anyway. His moves were never the same, yet they always worked like magic. He twisted, pulled in and out and all over. Slight bite at her less sensitive folds. Clit suck. And then he called upon his fingers to assist. She was barely sitting on the chair, legs fully rested on his shoulders, priorities loud and clear. As were her moans she didn't notice at first. She had to support herself with her arm, squeezing the weak leather top of the chair. Her other hand was busy with pushing Lando's face towards her. First tide started to arrive. Lando drew his head back to catch some breath - and she let him, because his fingers became the main act. He made sure to hold the tempo, knowing that would work like volume increase button. Was there a more beautiful sight than watching a woman you love hit the highs of life? Lando very much doubted. Judging by the way her face clenched, she must have forgotten the why and where. Her throat served like a gateway to pleasure sounds. And she screamed, more and even more once he sucked her clit again.
They call it little deaths because it might just be the only accurate description of what washed over her. If wasn't often he'd go down on and not fuck her shortly afterwards. Since that was out of the picture, she focused fully on his moves, knowing this was the peak.
He felt her relax after a particularly loud scream. Coming down to Earth once again. She opened her eyes and he smirked. He knew, by the way she tried to steady his breath and the slight movement of her supporting hand that she considered it "job done". She nodded and head and he shook his once again. Her puzzling look quickly replaced by a lip bite as his mouth traveled back to her core.
One more round, one could say Lando's ego was becoming the main hero of this story. The thought of somebody having to go and listen to another round of him destroying his girl with pleasure was an intoxicating one.
//
Martin's track was an instant hit and minor shock to the public. Never before has he released something so explicit. Y/N's screams were out for the whole world to listen and it did a wonder to their sex life. It was something else to fuck and blast your own love soundtrack on.
There were two main versions release, one less explicit, for the DJ's to play around the radio during the day and for club goers to party to during the night.
Lando stopped counting how many times it happened that in the middle of the day he'd hear this song around the paddock radio. Whenever he did, he would send Y/N a photo with a cheeky wink, and she'd do the same when she had the luck of listening to her own voice in public like that. A nice, somewhat innocent tradition for them only to understand.
//
Keep you friends close and rivals closer. That's how Lando ended up at one of the many celebrations of Max Verstappen's title celebrations. Little did he mind, secretly loving the fact the pressure was off him for a moment. Expensive alcohol flowing freely also helped.
He found himself sitting in a VIP booth across from Max, by some stroke of luck, alone. And of course, that was the first time he slipped up. Somehow he managed to avoid a situation when someone who knew him well was around when Martin's monaco kiss came up.
"the recording is on, have a good one, I guess"
Martin decided to keep his own line in the intro, only later admitting he'd re-recorded it out of his own insecurity. Which Lando found very amusing, given the fact him and Y/N only needed one take to get it right perfectly.
His stomach dropped a bit when he heard the now iconic opening line. Shifted a bit to regain some composure. Sipping a drink might help to hide his slight panic and lack of any real light did not allow his blushed cheeks to go noticed.
Across from him, Max was nodding his feet to the beat of the track. The conversation grew stale a moment while, so Max's complimentary comment on Lando's friend's track must have been intended as an innocent ice-breaker.
"what do you have in mind"
Another line kept in from the recording. Y/N's real voice hidden under many layers of autotune to keep her identity anonymous. As per her wish and Lando's secret regret.
The tempo started to slow down. Anyone would remember the track by heart if they'd listened to it the same amount of times as Lando had. Words were lost on him and he did not find a response to Max's comment. Very unusual from Lando. He sipped his now empty drink, hoping more liquid had magically appeared. Max noticed something was off. And then the key jump, straight out the book Diet Pepsi took inspiration from. Followed by the peak moan, or maybe a scream, from his girl for everyone to hear. It was not supposed to be this arousing. Max tilted his head and after another few beats, his intense stare aimed at his rival/friends went wide.
Lando tried to stop his smirk. He really did.
Max's mouth went open and he stopped his breath before uttering a simply lovely, slightly astonished: "No way."
Lando averted his gaze to the crowd below in order to avoid Max, who chuckled and took a big gulp of his not-empty glass.
If the lights went on, everybody would be able to see a bright red Lando. He was never going to break his promise about keeping this a secret, so he did not comment. But he grinned at Max's nod of approval.
He excused himself as went to the bar. Searching for his girl.
Light brush on her waist made her turn, wonder in her eyes easing when she saw it was him. They were both in the same horny headspace.
He leaned in and whispered, as much as one can whisper in a club, the last few beats of their track playing. "You sound so hot, baby. I'm so down bad for you."
Tipsy, she shot him a wide smile and mouthed a silent "i love you".
2K notes · View notes
secretlocket · 28 days ago
Text
Tumblr media
chris’s brothers catch him and sunshine!reader making out.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
“they’re eventually gonna come back, y’know,” you giggle, resting your arms around chris’s shoulders as you shift on his lap. chris tilts his head back against the seat, his ceruleans glinting with amusement. “yeah, eventually. key word being eventually,” he replies, his hands lightly tracing patterns on your hips.
you glance out the window, eyes wandering over to the front door of the triplets’ apartment building, bouncing slightly on his lap in excitement. “honestly, i’m not even mad they’re taking forever. this just gives me more time to plan. i’ve got three secret santa gifts to shop for today—this is, like, my super bowl.”
chris’s fingers drum lazily against your waist as you shift on his lap, your attention drifting to the apartment building in front of you. for some reason, nick and matt are taking forever to come downstairs, but you can’t even bring yourself to care. the extra time feels like a gift in itself—more room to brainstorm, more time to plan.
your thoughts keep circling back to the three secret santa exchanges you got yourself looped up into for this year, each one more exciting than the last. first, there’s the one with the triplets and their friends. you somehow managed to draw chris’s name, and the irony has you practically buzzing with excitement.
you’ve been dying to shop for him, though you’ve also spent way too much time second-guessing your ideas. something funny? something heartfelt? maybe a mix of both? you want to find the perfect gift—something that’ll light up his face in that way only chris can. the thought of seeing his reaction is half the fun. honestly, you really just want to make him happy.
then there’s your friends’ exchange. that one’s a little easier, filled with inside jokes and personal traditions. you’ve already got a solid idea for that one—something cute and maybe a tad bit chaotic, just like your group.
and finally, your coworkers. that one’s tricky, mostly because you don’t know everyone as well as you’d like, but you’re determined to make it work. you’ve been piecing together ideas for days, scrolling through endless gift guides and pinterest boards, searching for something thoughtful without being over the top. you’re really glad you didn’t draw your managers name because that lady hits a nerve you didn’t even know existed—but that’s a story for another time.
chris’s hands pause on your hips, breaking you out of your thoughts. he tilts his head back to look at you, his blue eyes glinting with quiet amusement. “doesn’t look like they’ll be coming out any time soon, so…”
the brunette’s words trail off, but the playful glint in his eyes is enough to make your heart skip a beat. he leans in, closing the distance between you with a soft breath that sends a shiver down your spine. his lips find yours in a slow, teasing kiss, gentle at first, like he’s savoring the moment. his hands, still resting on your hips, tighten ever so slightly, pulling you closer, his touch warm against the fabric of your jeans.
to say that you aren’t the slightest bit nervous, well that’d be straight up bluff. you’ve been dating chris for a good seven months now and you guys haven’t done anything more than kiss—the thought of doing more makes sweat pool in the middle of your palms, though you’re not entirely sure if in front of his apartment in your jeep is the ideal place to bang.
the kiss deepens almost effortlessly. you can feel the change in the air as he presses his soft lips a little firmer against yours. his hand slides down your side, fingers trailing over your waist, before sliding lower, his palm coming to rest against the curve of your ass. the movement is slow, deliberate, as if he’s trying to gauge your response.
then, his kiss turns hungry, more urgent, as he tilts you back slightly, encouraging you to lean into him as he reaches down the side of the passenger seat to recline the seat back a little more. you can feel the heat between you grow, the way his lips move against yours with more intensity, like he can’t get enough. his hand on your hip moves to your back, pressing you flush against him as if he can’t bear the space between you. the kiss is messy now, breathless and frantic.
you find yourself responding, one hand slipping up to his neck, fingers threading through his hair as you tug him closer. his grip on your ass tightens, pulling you even further into him, and you can feel the heat of his body through the thin layers of your clothes. the sensation leaves you dizzy, a quiet, satisfied moan escaping your lips as you press closer to him, lost in the moment. any thoughts of his brothers, shopping for gifts, and the mall are long gone, somewhere discarded in the lost and found box in the back of your minds.
KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK!
well, spoken too soon.
you freeze, and chris freezes too, his hand still resting on your waist, his gaze flickering toward the window. you follow his line of sight and immediately recognize the faces of nick and matt standing outside the car—nick, who looks totally unfazed and matt, who’s head is down but judging by the way his body is shaking, you can tell he’s cracking up.
clearing your throat, you climb off chris’s body and make your way over to the driver’s side. quickly clicking on the buttons on the side panel, unlocking the car doors with shaky fingers. as soon as the doors click open, nick begins to talk, stepping forward with matt following closely behind.
“move to the back, kissy face freak, i called shotgun while your ass was still in bed,” the oldest triplets shoos away the youngest one as he watches him climb into the back. “we weren’t even gone that long and you two are in here sucking each other lips off.”
nick begins to discuss their secret santa shopping plan as you start the car, the wheels gliding smoothing across the road as the vehicle moves. you nod along as he speaks, but your mind is still buzzing from the rush you had earlier. and you’re more than a hundred percent sure matt still has that stupid grin on his face too.
the eldest triplet connects his phone to your jeep’s bluetooth, mumbling something about how he wants to play his music after being tortured from chris and matt’s playlists when the three stepped out to grab a few groceries—you’re not entirely too sure what he says after that when you catch a glimpse of chris’s gaze in your rear view mirror, the two of you exchanging embarrassed smiles before your attention goes back on the road.
Tumblr media
messages from brie 🗯️ : once again, i am way too sure that this is over 100 words. this was really cute and fun to write 🙂‍↕️ i hope you all enjoyyyyy, i need to kiss this man asap or i’ll —
✷ tags : @sugrhigh @et6rnalsun @metanouias @eternaldecisions @sirenedeslily @freshloveee @lov3bug @cosmicanakin @chrissturnsfav @graciebrams
2K notes · View notes
notjustjavierpena · 10 months ago
Text
Swelter
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator
A/N: This happened because the SAG Awards made me horny. I have no other explanation for my behavior, no other defence. Maybe that I was listening to ur dad by VIAL. Obviously also a huge thanks to @strang3lov3 for being the cutest love bug I know, and for putting up with my brainstorming sessions.
Summary: You have a crush on Sarah’s father. It is summer, it is hot, and you just want a cold drink.
Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader/you (no y/n)
Tags: +18 smut, best friend’s dad, significant age gap (reader is 19-22, Joel is in his mid-40s), SEXUAL TENSION, bee stings, groping, voyeur to some degree, f masturbation, dirty talk, an endless amount of pet names, sexy play with a soda can, praise kink, car sex, daddy kink, fingering, unprotected piv sex, joel’s cock is huge in this, creampie, premature ejaculation, pussy eating, come eating, squirting
Word count: 6.8k
Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54233479
Swelter
A warm Texas breeze blows through the open window of Sarah’s childhood room, making the see-through pink curtains move elegantly from side to side. It hits your back right underneath your halter neck as you lay on Sarah’s bed, caressing your bare skin and making you think of him. You wonder if his hands would have the same effect on you because you find yourself shivering but not from feeling cold. He is somewhere here, and his daughter doesn’t even know that her best friend obsesses about that fact.
Sarah hasn’t changed her room since she was a teenager. She told you this the first time she brought you here, which is almost a year ago today. You were here last summer too, thrilled to be invited to spend a few weeks of your summer with a friend from college and you and her have been inseparable ever since, even if you are so different from each other.
You have your face in a woman’s magazine, propped up on your elbows so you can suck on a popsicle stick whilst turning the pages. There’s a page with the recipe for ‘The Best Fudgy Chocolate Cake Ever!’ next to a page on how to lose weight, and it makes you snort.
“What?” Sarah turns on her chair, pausing the video on her computer.
“What kinda woman are you? You can choose one, but only one. Don’t get greedy now!” You make a scratchy voice but then pop your ice pop in your mouth to hold up the magazine for her to see.
“Seriously? We can’t win,” she groans dramatically, “Chocolate cake always. I just want to be happy, and that looks like a serotonin boost.”
Suddenly, the door opens without any warning. It’s him. Mr. Miller. You quickly remove the popsicle from your mouth, not about to show him how your lips are stretched around the sugary snack. The open door causes a draft to blow the smell of his cologne your way, and it is intoxicating beyond your imagination because you relish in it in secret.
“Dad,” Sarah says with exasperation, “I thought being an adult earned you the privilege of more privacy.”
“It’s gettin’ colder outside now,” he states and ignores her comment, hand resting on the doorknob, “The Adlers need Mercy to be walked, and the pavement’s coolin’ down.”
“I walked him when I was fourteen,” she furrows her brow and you suppress a snicker, “I’m twenty.”
“Just ‘cause you’re grown, don’t mean you can’t do right by ‘em,” he states matter-of-factly.
“Hi, Mr. Miller,” you say from your spot on the bed as Sarah fumes quietly, absentmindedly reaching to pull the short skirt of your dress down. He can probably see the start of your ass from how it has been riding up as you lay down on the sheets.
“Hiya darlin’,” he replies and you swear you can hear a restrained sound in his voice. He turns to Sarah again, “Get your butt off that chair.”
“Fine,” she follows through on her orders but still wants to argue, probably embarrassed at being ordered around by her father in front of her friend. She gestures to you, “And what about my guest?”
“She’s grown too, which means she can probably entertain herself the half hour you’ll be gone,” he dares wink at you, and blood courses through your veins.
“I’ll just get that assignment done while you’re out,” you reassure and try not to seem like your core is shaking.
“See?” Joel looks triumphant.
“You’d make a hell of a lawyer,” she deadpans at her father and walks past him.
When he closes the door and leaves you alone in the bedroom, you can feel your popsicle having melted, its syrupy water running down your fingers. You switch hands and suck the sticky fingers into your mouth. The action makes Mr. Miller’s image flash in your mind and you press your thighs together before getting up and finding your laptop.
You find that it’s near impossible to concentrate on proofreading your assignment in the tiny bedroom after just five minutes of being alone. It’s not that you can’t concentrate in the Summer heat but no matter what you do, your mind keeps circling back to Joel’s voice as he called you darling. It heats you more than the sun ever could, and with every tap on your keyboard, your mouth gets more and more dry.
Eventually, you push yourself to stand from your seat at the desk and make a decision to go fetch something to drink, and it is definitely not with the intention of accidentally bumping into Sarah’s father. Not even when you do not find Joel in the kitchen and decide to bypass it altogether to continue into the garage in hopes of being successful in your search for a drink (obviously).
This infatuation started last year. It took you about ten seconds - from walking into the kitchen and shaking Joel’s hand - to realize that Sarah was cursed with having him as a father. Firstly, he was outrageously handsome; always wearing washed-out t-shirts that clung to his shoulders, always smiling with teeth, sporting salt-and-pepper curls, and sometimes even shocking you by entering the kitchen with working gloves on. However, when he opened his mouth and spoke, a southern drawl dripped from his lips and made your whole body tense up. He was charming, respectful, and laughed at the right moments. Most importantly, he laughed at every damn attempt that you made at being funny, and while it was probably an attempt to be nice and make you feel at home, it spurred you on terribly to win him over at every opportunity.
Despite all that, those opportunities weren’t many. He was also cool enough to know that his daughter didn’t want him hanging around all the time, and so he spent many days either in the garden to mow the lawn in competition with the rest of the fathers down the street, in the garage to fix up some old truck, or with his brother, Tommy, and Tommy’s wife who always had some DIY-project going on.
Thus, the summer became one of tanning sessions in the garden, movies in Sarah’s room, stolen glances at Joel Miller whenever he came inside to quench his thirst after hard labor, and secret longing whenever he had kept away for too long.
One particular day last year, Sarah had failed to mention that her father would be home most of the last days you were in their house, and because he was always out, you were getting more and more comfortable with walking around in your towels post-showers or leaving the door unlocked when changing.
The particular event had happened in the morning when the house had been silent except for the kitchen where Sarah was preparing breakfast, using a large box of pancake mix and the whole fruit section of the local grocery store for topping. You had just showered, standing with your head in your suitcase to search for the last few pieces of clothing you had that were clean when there was a rap on the door and a pull of the handle not even a second later.
“Sarah, I need—“
You whipped around at the sound of a new voice entering the room. Your heart nearly burst out of your chest, feeling as though it was fighting its way out between your ribs as embarrassment began to flood your system. Even so, you stood too frozen to reach for something to cover yourself up.
Joel was in the doorway and dead silent, looking as if struck by lightning. Like earlier today, his hand had been resting on the doorknob and in the painfully short moment that the both of you were processing the situation, you saw that his grip tightened enough to whiten his knuckles.
And then it happened, the thing that had soaked you in forbidden desire and delicious excitement; his gaze had flickered down your body and taken you in for the briefest of seconds. His gaze had traveled from the hard peaks of your nipples to the shape of your hips and the softness of your young cunt.
“Fuck,” you heard him utter as he remembered himself and his self-awareness made you finally grab the top you were going to be wearing that day to cover up your quivering body. He slammed the door shut and spoke through it, “Christ, ’m so sorry, sweetheart.”
“It’s okay, Mr. Miller,” you promised but he was already gone. You immediately locked the door afterward to come so hard with two fingers on your clit that you had to hold onto the chair by the desk.
God, you want him to look at you like that again, want to tell him it is all for him. Now, as wrong as you know it is, you find yourself searching for an excuse to get him to ogle you and the chances are higher if he actually spends time with you.
“Hi, Mr. Miller,” you announce yourself as you enter the garage through the door in the kitchen. Joel has his head inside the hood of his truck, leaning over to inspect something that you wouldn’t understand anything about anyway. He grips the front side of the engine room to push himself to stand, closes the top of the hood of his truck, and turns around to face you.
“Hey kiddo,” he returns with a smile, “How many times do I gotta say to ya that it’s just Joel?”
“Alright, Mr. Miller,” you tease, “—I mean, Just Joel.”
You hear him laugh softly but you don’t dare look at him, afraid that you’ll spontaneously combust. He goes to the utility sink to wash his hands, saying nothing more and making you feel insane for coming apart in the silence.
“I’m just getting something to drink,” you explain when it becomes too much, “Sarah’s room is boiling hot.”
“That’s fine, take what you’d like,” he replies, and there’s a kind teasing in his voice. “But don’t touch the orange sodas. Those are mine.”
The concrete floor of the garage is cold on your bare feet as you pad across the floor where an old bottom-freezer refrigerator stands in the corner, humming in the otherwise quiet room. It has seen better days, and it seems like Sarah has tried to cheer up its weathered appearance by covering it in stickers and ugly magnets.
“Now I have to get one of those,” you giggle and pull the door open, scanning the contents and noticing that the sodas are on the bottom shelf. You hesitate for just a second, and then you choose to bend over instead of crouching down. Behind you, Joel Miller is completely silent.
In the beginning, it hadn’t been your intention to let the crush fester in your brain and turn it into something more but last week, during dinner out on the terrace, you had accidentally sat down on a bee and gotten stung on the back of your thigh. The cry you had let out had nearly made Joel tip over the table to get to you, his chair falling backward as he got up from his seat.
“Fuck! Ow ow ow!” You cried and hobbled around on the grass. The pain was unbearable but the shock only seemed to make it worse.
“Sarah, please get some ice and some antihistamines. There should be a bottle on my nightstand,” Joel ordered quickly and she rushed inside. He walked toward you, grabbing at your shoulders to ground you but his touch only heightened all other sensations. He dug his thumbs into you and your head swam, “Sweetheart, ‘tis just a bee, shh, calm down. I need to remove the stinger. Lemme see ya.”
“It really fucking hurts, Mr. Miller,” you said with a whine as he guided you to one of the loungers that Sarah and you had dragged out from the shed earlier that week.
“I know,” he finally let go of you so you could think just a bit more clearly, “Lemme take a look. Lie down on your front.”
You followed orders with the realization of how much you trusted his judgment, that he would treat you right, moving carefully because the flex of your thigh muscle was making the pain worse. The wooden lounger burned slightly against the front of your thighs, and you pressed your cheek into its slats while screwing your eyes shut.
The wood creaked behind you as he knelt on it with one knee and suddenly, his broad hand was perched on the top of your thigh in an attempt to keep your skin taut. You sucked in a breath but he only mistook it for more pain.
“It’s alright, sweetheart. I can see it,” his breath was slightly quicker but you didn’t want to jump to conclusions, “He really got ya right on your inner thigh. Hold on.”
Your eyes shot open when his thumb ran towards the innermost part of the back of your thigh, a sort of panicked arousal spiking from your chest and thighs. He paused for a second then murmured something, a swear word that you tried to take as frustration. There was a beat but then he cleared his throat, “Can you bend your leg a little? I wanna make sure that I get it on the first try.”
“How?” You asked stupidly. The image of how he would be looming over your backside made your heartbeat go down between your legs, “My dress’ll ride up.”
“Just bend the knee a little, pull it towards your chest,” he explained and cleared his throat once more, “On my life, I won’t look.”
So you did as he told you, and sure enough, your dress betrayed you by crawling slowly up to sit around your hip instead of the middle part of your thigh. You looked back at him when he started picking at the stinger with his nails, and you hoped that he would not notice your gawking at his concentrated expression.
A flash of the day he had barged in on you naked flashed in your mind because his eyes were so focused on not staring at you that you nearly whimpered when you saw his eyes flicker to the spot of dampness between your legs for no more than a second.
You had worn white cotton panties that day so they would not be seen through your dress. They were straining against your pussy in this position and all he had to do was reach out, and he’d find your clit poking against the fabric from how excited you were feeling.
He had had the perfect outline of your cunt, and it’s the same now as you bend over to get to the very bottom of the fridge, reaching for a cold drink that just happens to be his favorite. You know that he can see everything, and the worst is that you know he already has. Twice. The mere thought is so dirty that your heart starts pounding in your chest and sends heat through your already hot body, so you hurry to stretch to your full height again.
With a cocky grin that is mostly put on to hide your anxious excitement about what you have just done, you turn to face Joel and walk to stand in front of him and his car. His cologne fills your nostrils again, and the scent seems once again to have a direct line to your cunt because you have never felt more empty. In front of you, Joel’s jaw is clenched but other than that, he seems a lot more calm and composed than you.
That is until you jump onto the hood of the car and scoot back, letting your bare feet dangle out over the edge. You crack open the soda in your hand and take a sip that is a little longer than intended. The satisfying burn of the fizz grounds you in the warm climate, but it is even more heavenly as you tuck the skirt of your dress between your thighs so you can place the cold can there.
Joel shakes his head with a sigh but you know he is playing a game as much as you because he cannot help but crack a smile back at you, “You’re trouble, I knew it the second Sarah brought ya into my house.”
“Oh, whatever will I do?” You ask dramatically and lean back against the windshield.
“Go morally bankrupt?” He raises a brow. If only he knew what is going through your mind. You catch him looking at you in the fashion that you have craved when you sigh deeply and cause your chest to push out.
“Only that?” You take another sip and some of the contents spill down your chin in a thick, sticky trail due to the angle you’re sitting in. You reach up to wipe it away with your index finger and then dare to suck your finger clean with the intention of mimicking the way that you had licked it clean earlier when it had been coated in melted popsicle.
“Give it here,” he says. You lock eyes with him. However, your eyes widen slightly when he nods at the can and takes it from between your thighs. There’s electricity shooting through your nerves the second his fingers touch the fabric of your dress but they intensify to a dizzying degree when he takes a sip of the soda too.
Like a reflex, the sight of him drinking from the can that’s been nestled between your thighs makes your legs fall out to the sides. You’re worse than an obedient dog in your horniness, reacting the same way to the way he moves as it would to the sound of a bell ringing.
Your dress rides up slowly along your thighs, revealing your sweaty skin that feels sticky by now and Joel clears his throat after briefly looking down. He shifts his weight from one foot to the other, and when you realize the effect it has on the poor man, you grab the hem and pull upwards, “It’s so hot outside today. Don’t think I’ll ever get used to the heat here in Texas.”
“C’mon, sweetheart,” he says and his face has got a pinker tint, pulse visible on the side of his neck. With his free hand, he grabs one of your knees and starts nudging your legs together again. He yanks your skirt down, “I know I’m always teasin’ ya but you can’t be doing this.”
“Jesus Christ, Joel,” you say with exasperation and move your legs out again, “It’s just very hot… and it’s not like you haven’t had a peek.”
“Hey now,” he leans forward to place the can of soda on the roof of the truck, “That ain’t a fair accusation.”
“I’m not accusing you of anything,” you reply, chewing on your bottom lip, “But you’re not denying it.”
“Don’t tryna make me look like the pervert here,” he scolds, taking a step towards you and causing your stomach to do somersaults, “I noticed the way you went real quiet when my hands were on you.”
“What do you mean?” You furrow your brows in confusion, “Your hands were never on m–”
“Did that bee sting really hurt that much?” He clarifies. Oh, you think whilst he smirks with triumph. Something has switched in the air surrounding you, the atmosphere has become more daring, “Yeah, I saw her; your pussy wet f’me.”
It’s true. If you think about it too much, you can still feel your heartbeat in the places where he touched you, and the pulse is rapid and overwhelming. You can’t imagine what it'll be like if he touches you underneath your dress, even if it’s simply on the outside of your panties. The thought has your underwear starting to dampen, the fabric starting to stick to you, and make you painfully aware of the wetness between your legs.
“Did ya touch yourself after?” His eyes have darkened slightly. His pupils are dilating with desire for your answer, and you nod hesitantly, overwhelmed by the need to tell him everything.
“During my shower that you told me to take,” you confess and hear him make a sound low in his throat at the mental image, “I couldn’t stop myself— I wanted you so badly. The thought of you inside me...”
This is a crossroad, you realize, you’ve said your deepest secret of depravity. On one hand, you can bolt out the door or you can make a move to show him what you really came down here for. The latter is risky but Joel is so goddamn decent that you know that if he doesn’t want this - which you doubt is the case at this point - he’ll gently reject you and never mention it again if it means that his daughter will continue having a best friend.
However, as your mind races with scenarios of what could or could not happen in this moment, Joel pulls you back into reality as his hand, cold from gripping the can, rests on your knee again but this time, it doesn’t try to make you decent like before. Instead, it slides up under your skirt in such a slow motion that you find yourself holding your breath.
“Is this what’ll quiet down that mind of yours?” He asks in a low voice, eyes flickering from your face to down between your legs and back again, “If I take a peek more to get it outta our system?”
“What are you doing?” You ask as if you do not know. It’s your turn to be scandalized by bluntness, and you find yourself gripping his arm but not hard enough to signal that you do not want him to continue. You hope that he realizes that this is not you rejecting his advances.
“I ain’t doing nothin’ that you haven’t already silently begged me to do. Perhaps sometimes - and God help me, I will probably regret it - you just needa follow your instincts when a pretty girl like you has been sendin’ me heart eyes all week,” he almost sounds annoyed with you, and to stop yourself from being scolded, your hand loosens its grip on him until you remove it altogether. He smiles, “Good girl.”
“You shouldn’t—“ you feel a rush of blood to your head, adrenaline kicking in as your thoughts circle around the repercussions that this can bring. In all honesty, you had only walked in here to have Joel’s eyes on you but now, you are getting more than you bargained for and it is making you so turned on that your mind is clear and foggy at the same time. Boldly, you sit up on the car’s hood so you can reach for the buckle of Joel’s belt, “We shouldn’t be doing this.”
“You’re damn right we shouldn’t be doin’ this,” he agrees immediately but doesn’t stop. His warm and rough palms skim further up your thighs until they settle by your hips, his thumbs teasing the elastic band of your panties. He starts to drag them down, the fabric nearly snapping in two when you barely register that you have to lift your ass to help him.
His fingers unintentionally caress your calves as he slides the underwear down to eventually pull them off your ankles and feet. The sensation makes your body wake up even more, a gush of wetness smearing your inner thighs and you know that you have to pull your dress up soon if you don’t want it stained.
In front of you, Joel reads your mind. He shoves the hem of your dress up as far as he can without a word with desperation in his trembling hands, and you move to let him bunch it up around your waist so he has a full view of what waits - and for long has waited - for him.
When your cunt is revealed to him, he groans like he is in pain at the sight of the slick shining on your soft youthful skin. You can see how hard he is in his jeans, cock straining against the zipper at the front of them.
He looks like he wants to touch but hesitates. The first sign of his inner conflict. You remember that he did say just a peek as if there’s an unspoken agreement that he is not to cross the line of touching what he shouldn’t want to have. It would definitely be a nuclear decision if he chooses to do it anyway. It makes you want it even more, and another gush spills from your glistening slit when you clench from excitement.
Joel swears under his breath, something that sounds like fuck it and it sets it in stone; he is going to ruin you for eternity right here on his car. He steps closer until your spread knees bump into his sides, and without saying anything you move to yank his jeans and briefs down, settling them around his hips with a soft gasp as you take in the sight of his fully hard cock. He is huge. So huge that your mouth starts salivating like you’ve already been fucked stupid and your walls try to clamp down on nothing. It’ll hurt. You want it to if it means that you won’t doubt if it ever happened tomorrow.
“Tell me you want this too,” he seeks your reassurance.
“So fucking badly, Mr. Miller— Joel,” you say without any hint of second-guessing in your voice. You scoot further forward on the car and lean back so he has better access, trying your best to be elegant in your messy state, “Please, want you in me.”
“Jeez, honey,” his breath shakes, “Already so eager. I haven’t even felt if she’s ready f’me.”
With one hand gripping your left thigh, he uses two fingers on his right hand to slide through your wet folds and you don’t think you have ever been this turned on for anyone; when he flips his palm upwards and shoves two fingers inside of you, you feel more arousal drip from your cunt and pool in his hand. The longing you have felt since you saw him for the first time finds somewhere to empty all its desire and desperation into, and you whine like you’re in a state of agony.
“Shhh…” he soothes and curls his digits inside of you until you think you might start crying, squelching cunt trying to pull him further into you as he fingers you lazily. Your gaze drops to how his cock twitches whilst standing in the air, “You’re grippin’ me so good, doll, can’t wait to fuck this pussy. Don’t cry like that. Be patient.”
“Please, I’m so—“ your palms are flat on the hood of the car, your mouth hangs open in ecstasy and you stare down at where his ring- and middle finger disappears repeatedly into you, “It’s yours, please.”
“I know it’s mine, don’t gotta say it, I know,” he coos at each of your whimpers, gets you worked up until you are just on the brink of coming, and then he moves quickly. He pulls his fingers out of you, smears his cock with what you’ve soaked his whole palm with, and leans over your gasping frame to nudge at your quivering hole.
When he finally enters you, the both of you gasp in unison. He struggles with it for a moment, rubbing the skin just below your belly button to make you relax because he is so much bigger than you had first anticipated, and such a tight fit that you think he might split you in two.
“Goddamn, you are tight,” he says through gritted teeth, “Feels fuckin’ amazin’.”
“Ah,” you feel like letting yourself turn into a drooling mess already, pulsating around him from the way your body struggles to take him, “Joel, I can’t.”
“Yes, you can, honey,” he encourages, showing no signs of pulling out of you to free you from the burn of his girth. He growls low in his throat as you struggle with it, and you know it’s because your walls are clenching around him as you involuntarily move, “Stay still, let her get used to it.”
“It hurts,” you whine, sliding slightly on the metal underneath your ass. He presses his hips forward even further and causes you to whimper but in doing so, he holds you firmly in place by using his strong frame.
“I know but ya just gotta relax,” he goes on. He places one hand flat on the hood of the car and then places the other right on your hip, thumb going inwards to find your clit. It pulses under his finger, trying to find out whether to find the pain delicious or not.
When his thumb starts going in circles on you, your thigh muscles start to twitch and flex from burning desire instead of uncomfortable pain. He presses down a little to stroke your sensitive nub with even more determination and smiles at his success when a moan slips from your mouth, “That’s it, honey. Just enjoy this until you’re creamin’ on me, and then I can fuck her real good.”
Your walls start to flutter a few seconds after the first new round of pleasurable sounds leave you, and the more his finger moves on you, the easier it gets to take him because the pain turns into nothing more than a dull ache in the background of ecstasy. He has you breathing faster and faster, and in return, he starts moving his thumb up and down to make his touches more direct.
God, your clit is hardening underneath his torment. He stares at what he is doing, an occasional grunt leaving him from how you involuntarily squeeze his length, and you know that he can sense it, suddenly smirking to himself as you near your climax. He admires the sight of you, eyes glued to the way the hood of your clit has drawn back, “Babydoll, look at that. Such a pretty pussy, clit peekin’ out and all. Does she wanna come on my cock?”
“Please, yes, oh please,” you nod repeatedly, mouth hanging open in an o-shape and breaths coming out in small puffs. Your climax is within reach, and Joel looks concentrated as he more than willingly hands it over to you whilst buried deep inside of you. The concentration on his face is probably from keeping himself from spilling inside of you too soon, but God, he looks gorgeous as he determinedly strokes your cunt.
“Yes, yes, yesyesyes— oh God, I’m… fuck, I’m coming!” You shake with pleasure as he causes your pussy to spasm, your hands barely able to find out what to do and making you grab at both the metal underneath you with one hand and his wrist with the other. Your eyes are squeezed shut but you do not doubt that he is staring at you in awe as you come so hard that reality fades.
“Good girl,” he rasps, voice unsteady and hand hitting the hood of the car as the feeling becomes overwhelming, “Oh sweetheart, you’re choking my dick so g—“
He swears quietly and then loudly, and suddenly, his cool demeanor crumbles because he is spilling his load inside of you with a pathetic and strained grunt. His hips stutter slightly and warmth spreads slowly inside of you, mixing with your own arousal.
You look down to where the two of you are connected, feeling fucked out despite not even having had the chance to feel him move inside of you. His come has started to spill from you already, dripping obscenely from your cunt.
“Fuck,” you hear Joel say above you. He slips out of you and leaves you gaping and mewling for a second, starting to take a step back. You catch him with your legs before he is too far away, and he reluctantly steps close to you again. He looks embarrassed but gives you a smile to hide it, “Felt too good, honey. This pussy’s makin’ me all sweet on you.”
“I’m that irresistible?” You grin in your post-orgasmic haze, not really giving a crap about the lack of a proper fuck from how much dopamine is coursing through your veins.
Joel takes hold of your thighs as they are wrapped around your body and lifts them off of himself, “You’re makin’ an old bastard like me weak in the knees, so maybe. Hah! Comin’ too soon like a goddamn teenager.”
“I liked it,” you admit without hesitation, still basking in the sweet afterglow, “Made me feel sexy and powerful.”
He scoffs but can’t fight the smile on his face, “Now now, don’t get cocky on me. Crawl back a little, spread ya legs f’me.”
You giggle and do as you are told, presenting yourself to him on the hood of his car. You plant your bare feet on the metal, lay back against the windshield, and smile.
“Now look at that,” he tuts as he admires his work; white ropes of come dripping down from your slit and onto the surface beneath you. He lays both hands flat on the car and leans forward, and before you know it, his mouth is covering your whole cunt and he eats from you like he’s paid to do it.
“Jesus,” you groan, throwing your head back and grabbing onto the roof of the car with one hand whilst the other finds Joel’s hair. You tug and he moans against you, sending vibrations through your whole lower body and beginning the first stirrings of another high. You don’t think that you can take it, squirming just like you had done moments earlier.
Joel makes a sound of disapproval. He scoops his arms under your thighs until he can lay his hands on top of them, holding you tightly against his mouth and causing you to cry towards the ceiling when he makes your second orgasm approach so quickly that nothing in your brain makes sense except what he is doing between your legs.
The hand on the roof of his car goes to his head too. You slide your fingers on both hands through his hair until they lay at the back of his neck, and then you yank once more at the curls there. His tongue works at your clit, swiping back and forth over it until you think that you might see God.
However, it doesn’t stay there. Instead, it is replaced by his nose so that he can eat his own spill straight from you by dipping his tongue hungrily inside of you.
“Joel— holy fuck, you’re incredible,” you close your eyes to concentrate on your pleasure. Who knew that the man could fuck with his tongue? He is warm and wet inside of you, slurping pornographically until you are clean of any remains of his come.
You are just about to finish a second time when he halts whatever he is doing. He pulls back only a few inches so you can still feel his uneven breaths against your cunt.
“No! Please,” your eyes fly open, you cry desperately, and throw your head forward dramatically. You want to thrash but he still has your legs locked in his arms, so you decide to pull out the big guns and hope for the best, “Please, Daddy! Pleasepleaseplea—“
“What the fuck did you just say t’me?” He looks up at you but you are too busy screwing your eyes shut in agony whilst whining for more. He growls and releases one of your legs, “I was already gonna make you a happy young lady but now, I’m gonna make you come so hard your little brain goes dumb. See how it feels. Impatient girl.”
His hand goes between your legs. He turns his palm upwards and then shoves two thick fingers inside of your pussy like earlier, curling them slightly and then pumping them so quickly that blood starts speeding through your system a second after and your heart rate goes so fast that you know that you are just about to come.
“Joel, oh my— fuck!” You whimper.
“Wrong word,” he replies.
You correct yourself immediately because there’s no way he is stopping again to chastise you once more, “Daddy, oh I— mhmm, I’m gonna come for you. Don’t stop, please, please Daddy, pleasepleaseplea—!”
He responds just how you had liked: He closes his mouth around your swollen clit and sucks hard, finally severing all connection to your brain and you come so hard that you actually squeal. Joel groans against you, feeling you squeeze the digits he has buried deep inside you. He draws back his fingers, pressing upwards the whole way.
Clear liquid squirts from you the second he pulls them out. The gushes that follow are so intense that the leg he isn’t holding anymore shakes so violently that the metal rattles under you, the car staining with your come. He repeats the move again and again, over and over, and watches the steady trickle down the hood and onto the concrete floor that turns a dark gray.
Euphoria courses through your being as you come in a way that you have never felt before. Your limbs tingle as warmth spreads out from beneath your belly button, your cunt pulses with eager pleasure, and you sob through the waves that crash over you without giving you time to recover from the last. The whole room feels brighter and its colors more vibrant.
“Shh, baby, let it happen, feels so good, don’t it? That’s it,” Joel coos at you the whole way through, guides you through it when you barely know how to use your words. He has straightened to his full height again but you don’t know when, and he has slowed his fingers down to tease out a few aftershocks. You whimper feebly at each one, and when Joel seems satisfied with what he has drawn out of you, he covers your whole mound with his palm to soothe the feeling of overstimulation that settles.
“Soundproof,” he mutters, once again reading your mind when you come to your senses again and start thinking about your noise levels with furrowed brows and eyes flitting from him to the garage door. Your heartbeat has started to slow again, and the relief of knowing no one has been able to hear you makes you slump against the windshield and breathe deeply.
The remnants of your orgasm have made you smile, your body slipping into a deep state of satisfaction when the anxieties have been dispelled. Joel moves his hand up your lower body until it settles between your breasts, still covered by your dress. He caresses your heaving chest, looking at you boyishly for the first time, “You good? Didn’t cause any brain damage, did I?”
“You think this truck has ever seen action like that before?” You joke breathlessly.
“Probably ain’t the first time I disappointed a gorgeous lady in its presence,” he says with an apologetic smile, “Sorry ‘bout that.”
“Disappointed? You’re insane,” you stretch your arms above your head to get some of the last bits of euphoria out of your body, trying to ignore the way he has just called you a gorgeous lady. He probably means nothing by it. As your stretch peaks, you moan gently, “I came two times. Hard. I’m not complaining.”
“Just saying that I woulda liked to do it… properly, I guess,” he talks as he stuffs himself back into his underwear and pants, most likely trying to feel the least uncomfortable about mentioning his overexcitement. Automatically, he steps back when you jump off the car to adjust your dress.
“This doesn’t have to be a one-time thing,” you try to act casual as you say it but there’s no way you are accepting the best sex of your life to be a thing you will never have again, reducing it to a movie merely playing behind your eyelids as a cruel reminder of what is unattainable.
“And when would we have time for that?” He asks, zipping up his jeans. He wipes his hands on them, “We can’t, honey.”
“We just did,” you mumble, picking up your underwear from the floor. You turn the panties in your hands, just about to bend down to put them on before deciding against it. Boldly, you stand in front of him and stuff your sticky underwear into his front pocket; closest to his crotch. There are extra pairs in your bag in Sarah’s room. He can have these.
He looks down briefly and then finds your eyes. His jaw clenches as he weighs his words, “When?”
“Aren’t you driving me to the airport on Sunday?” You smile and kiss his cheek, and then you leave him, your soda in hand and a mess on the floor.
.
.
If you would like to follow my writing then go follow @notjustjavierpena-fics and turn on notifications 💖❤️
5K notes · View notes
michaela-o · 6 months ago
Text
Random things i think Cybertronians would find adorable about humans ~♡
1. Humans getting spooked by random loud noises because humans are naturally very jumpy about loud noises
Imagine:
you're sitting over at Swerve's bar, just chatting, having your drink on the counter Swerve let you sit on, because your makeshift little table and chair are work in progress. Suddenly some bot decides to honk their horn near you which makes you yelp and jump (like cats when they get scared of cucumber) which makes you almost spilling the drink as you were about to take a sip.
The whole bar stops and laughs at you. You just look at the bot who did it with the most unimpressed look ever (ㅍ_ㅍ)
2. Watching you stretch yourself because Cybertroniams aren't as flexible as humans
3. Sleeping
this may sound a bit creepy but from what i saw Cybertroniams sleep very eerily still and almost never move when they're in recharge because they're very vulnerable when doing so. So i think when they have their first sleepover with a human and they happen to fall asleep sooner and they start to either sleep walk or sleep talk (which fun fact, i do a lot ( -᷄ ᎑ -᷅ ) ) the bots would look in utter confusion like- "ya all don't stay still?? How???" I think Cybertronians would also find cute how groggy humans are when they wake up and them needing proper time to load into the world around them. Oh god and wait till they hear about the weird ass dreams humans can have or humans trying to explain déjà vu to a bot💀
(makes me think of Sunder being frustrated bc he wouldn't be able to get into a human's brain😝)
4. Physical Clumsiness
The occasional clumsiness and lack of precision in human movements. I think a lot of bots would find this very amusing to occasionaly watch since Cybertronias are typically more coordinated and precise in their actions. Like imagine bot walking with a human who let's say just woke up earlier to a meeting and are slowly walking around occasionaly hitting themeselves or their arm with a corner of a wall because their sleepy processor didn't calculate the trajectory good enough. I think they would find this rather adorable (๑´>᎑<)
5. Emotional Reactions
Yes i think humans are way more sensitive than Cybertronians are. Human's exaggerated emotional reactions to minor events, like getting overly excited about a sports game or being deeply upset by a small mishap, could be seen as amusingly disproportionate. Like imagine you drop your favourite mug on the floor and it breaks as much as your heart in that moment. You walk around the ship super sad, like a kicked puppy, and the bots can almost feel the sadness dripping off of you so they ask: "Hey uh- you okay?"
And then you proceed to explain that you broke your favourite mug and that you'll never find a mug similar to your favourite one. The bot stares like ಠ_ಠ. Oh so that's the reason? Okay so apparently humans don't pack bond with only random things that are alive but even with things that aren't.
6. The uncanny valley effect
I think bots would find rather fascinating how human brain responds to this phenomenon. Like- the human brain can feel that something is off and can't be fooled. Imagine holoforms in Cybertronians. Like yeah they can look very appealing but only up to a certain point which when that point is reached it tickles that one part of the human brain which tells us "na-a-ah something ain't right"
At one point they wanted to wtiness this in real life so some bots (Percy, Brainstorm) made a set up of holoforms and real looking hologram of humans and waited for you to figure out which unsettles you the most. They were surprised that you were 100% accurate in this and that you were able to tell which one are holoforms and which aren't.
7. Expressions of Wonder
the awe and wonder in the human eyes when we are encountering something new or beautiful, such as a breathtaking landscape or a technological marvel. I think Cybertronians would find this pretty adorable, very innocent and reflective of our curious nature.
8. Human Fragility
I think the most popular one. The general physical fragility of humans, along with our tendency to bandage minor injuries or get flustered over small pains, might be viewed as cutely vulnerable for many Cybertronians.
Feel free to add anything you'd like !!😄🫶🏻🫶🏻
1K notes · View notes
junkissed · 3 months ago
Text
nightwalker
Tumblr media
member — vampire!minghao x f reader genre — smut, a little thriller/horror/supernatural word count — 6.6k synopsis — the closing shift at the university library isn't the most exciting job in the world, but your hot colleague makes it a whole lot better. another added bonus: he's a vampire. content warnings — mentions of blood, blood drinking (from reader), biting, not really compliant with vampire lore (i made some stuff up for the sake of making it spookier so just go with it), minghao is kinda creepy but he's a nice vampire i promise smut warnings — descriptions of female anatomy, fingering, making out, aphrodisiac vampire venom (?), plenty of consent!! notes — inspired by the song "nightwalker" by ten! the biggest thanks ever to mars @onlymingyus for helping me brainstorm this one, from start to finish (plus @cheolism and @wonustars for fleshing out the concept with me!). i worked so so hard to get this out in time for halloween, and this is my first vampire fic so it was a challenge to get it to a place i was happy with. i hope yall enjoy, and please lmk in a reblog/comment/ask if it's something you liked or want to see more of !! :D
Tumblr media
there are many places that are exciting at night. bars, clubs, restaurants, theaters. especially on a saturday night, the town is full of life.
the university library where you work is not one of those places.
the study rooms have long since closed; computers have been shut off and the last few students have trudged home with bags under their eyes and bags full of half-finished papers. you don't usually work this late, but you're covering the graveyard shift for jun, who has a date with his girlfriend tonight. he definitely owes you one for this, but you get overtime pay for it so does it really matter in the end?
the closing shift isn't difficult. there's a few carts of returned books that need to be shelved, but that's really all there is to it. the only downside is that there's only one person working at night, so you're alone. but then again, some people might see that as an upside. as for you, it's got both pros and cons. it's not a shift you'd go out of your way to ask for, but you don't mind it once in a while. it's usually pretty peaceful after dark, and you can put on your headphones and play your music as loud as you want.
you pick up a stack of books for the history shelf, turning one over and flipping through it mindlessly. the cover is intricately detailed with flourishing silver engraving, and you pause a second longer to stare at it before you flip it around to check the number on its side.
you start to climb up the ladder and run your finger across the spines on the shelf, stopping where there's an empty space between the books. the job isn't hard, but it is boring. counting, shelving, counting again, alphabetizing. 
there's a sharp crack against the library window and you startle, whipping your head around to check behind you. but there's nothing there. it wasn't supposed to storm today… but it's probably just the wind. or maybe a sudden thunderstorm. or, it could be the guys from theta chi again. yeah, that sounds more like it. always the college kids getting up to trouble. it is a saturday night, after all, and this close to halloween there's bound to be at least a couple people throwing ragers tonight.
whatever it is, it's probably nothing to worry about. you've already locked up the rest of the building, so it’s just you alone in here now.
you turn back to the shelf, shoving the book into place before you reach for the next. best to get this over with as quickly as possible so you can go home. 
there's another booming sound, and now you're sure it's thunder because the whole room almost seems to rumble. you startle again at the noise, but this time your foot slips off the ladder and you lose your balance. you only have a split second to brace yourself as you start to fall, but you don't hit the ground.
suddenly there's a hand on your lower back, another on your arm, and you land on somebody's chest instead. you let out a scream, your loud shriek echoing through the silence of the library, and whoever caught you sets you back down on the floor.
you look up to see who it is, and you come face to face with the most gorgeous man you've ever seen. his long blond hair falls in waves at his shoulders, and his pale skin almost seems to sparkle under the overhead lights.
“you alright?” he asks calmly, breaking your trance.
you blink quickly and smooth down your shirt, trying to collect yourself. you just screamed at the top of your lungs in this poor man's face, and he's still being as polite as ever. “yeah, i'm fine, thanks to you. i'm lucky you were there.” you clear you throat and offer him a weary smile as you tell him your name. “i'm so sorry about that, by the way. and, you are…?”
“minghao,” he finishes for you. he doesn't say anything more. his tone is gentle and friendly, but there's still a sizzle of tension in the air around him that feels out of place.
you're trying to wrack your brain for information, but nothing's coming up. “you look familiar. do you work on campus? or— you're a student here?” you add the last part quickly, afraid to assume wrong. he looks young enough to be a student, but he sure doesn't seem like one. a grad student, maybe? or a phd candidate?
he nods. “department of health sciences.” he suddenly pauses, tilting his head to chuckle as if he's just thought of the funniest thing. “i'm sorry, i should've introduced myself better. you probably meet a lot of people, in a place like this.” he holds out his hand for you to shake. “dr. xu. maybe that name is a bit more recognizable. i teach classes in the fall.”
that feels a little more reassuring. and if he only teaches during the fall semester, that explains why you didn't recognize him more quickly.
you reach out to take his hand, and a shiver runs instantly through you when you feel his freezing palm against yours. the heater is running inside the building, but he just came in so maybe it's colder outside than you realize. but still, his grip feels unnaturally cold, as if he's radiating ice from the inside out.
“sorry, i'm just a little surprised. i thought i was in here alone. i swear i locked those doors…” you trail off, subconsciously glancing at the entrance. didn't you lock them? you hum quietly, trying to clear your mind. it's late, so clearly you aren't focused as much as you thought you were. “anyway. what can i help you with?”
minghao chuckles, almost sounding shy. “oh, i'm just here to return a book.” he pulls out a small, leather bound book from the pocket of his coat and hands it to you. his fingers graze against your wrist, and you have to force yourself not to wince at how cold his touch is. “working late, you know how it is.”
you scoff softly, nodding. “i sure do.” why do you suddenly feel like your tongue is in knots? “i'll check this in for you. is there anything…”
“no, that's all.” his words are short, but his tone still has that pleasant lilt to it that puts you at ease. “you've been quite helpful, i appreciate it. i'll get out of your way now.” he bows his head politely, giving you another smile. “be careful with those stairs.”
you turn around to set his book on the table behind you, letting out a chuckle as you start to reply. “i wi—”
but when you turn back around to tell him goodbye, he's already disappeared and you're standing by yourself. the library is deadly silent, not even the sound of footsteps or a door creaking. you turn again to look around for any signs of life, but the large room is completely empty.
you exhale, rubbing a hand across your forehead. the only evidence that minghao was ever there is the book still sitting on the table, looking up at you innocently, as if mocking your confusion.
whatever. all you have to do is just finish putting everything away so you can go home. it's not much longer.
Tumblr media
by the time you collect your things and close up the library (you're sure that you did this time, double and triple checking every lock), it's well after midnight.
at this time of night the buses aren't running anymore, so you're stuck walking home. yet another reason to yell at jun later, but you probably won't. you just hope for his sake that his date had better been worth it.
you're not afraid of the dark. it's a fairly safe town, and aside from the college kids stealing each other's bikes and throwing rocks at people's windows, there's not a whole lot of crime that happens here. but still, you don't want to be the first to change that.
you stick close to the inside edge of the sidewalk, your gaze flitting around you as you hold your bag tighter to your chest. your encounter at the library has already put you on edge, making the usually peaceful night sounds feel spookier. the chirp of crickets and the distant howling of dogs (or maybe wolves?) only makes you more nervous as you pick up your pace. you're already almost halfway home. everything is fine.
a whispering sound in the dark makes you freeze, and you catch a shadow slip past the light of a street lamp on the ground. the sound seems to bounce around, unintelligible soft breaths floating around your ears. it's hard to tell if it's only in your head or not.
“hello?” you call out loudly, trying to sound brave. you pull out your phone and turn on the flashlight, shining it around, but there's nothing there. probably just an animal, you tell yourself, but you know you're lying to yourself. no animal you've ever known sounds like that. the disjointed murmurs in your ears makes your skin prickle. maybe it's… fuck, you don't even know what it might be anymore. but you're getting closer now. everything is fine.
you start walking again and the whispering sound returns, and it makes the hair on the back of your neck stand up. the street is dark and empty, not a single car in sight, not a single light turned on inside the houses you walk past. it's too quiet, eerie.
you see another shadow moving. the whispering finally fades into a clear voice, calling out your name, and it sounds uncomfortably familiar. you whip around to check behind you, but the sight of minghao makes you relax. 
you exhale slowly, almost wanting to laugh with how overwhelmed with relief you are. you're not alone. there's someone here, and it's someone you know. everything is fine.
“are you following me, or something?” you scoff jokingly, but there's a little bit of truth to your words. two coincidences in one night feels like too many, but you're still glad to see him.
minghao laughs warmly, and somehow it makes the street seem smaller. “no, i live over here. i left the lab pretty late, just had some projects to finish up before tomorrow. sorry for startling you.” he pauses, looking you up and down. “i'm assuming you live down this way, too… would you like me to walk you home? it’s not very safe being out here alone at night, especially this time of year.”
his last words seem strange to you. what’s so different about this time of year? but a sharp gust of wind whips your coat around, so you don’t really have time to dwell on it for long. 
you pull your sleeves down to cover your hands, crossing your arms tightly over your chest to keep warm. it’s not usually this chilly, but maybe it’s just because you’re not usually out this late. the whistling of the wind through the trees makes you shiver, and you get the strange feeling that something’s watching you, something just out of reach. and suddenly, minghao’s offer seems like the best thing that could’ve happened to you tonight.
“please,” you tell him with a nod. “that would be great. thank you.”
he flashes another smile, and his teeth glint in the low light of the street lamp as he moves closer to you. “it’s my pleasure.”
now that minghao’s beside you, you’re able to zone out a little as you walk back to your house. the anxious, sort of uncomfortable feeling gnawing at the back of your thoughts is still there, but you push it down. it’s just the late hour. it’s just the wind. it’s just your mind playing tricks on you, and there’s really nothing to be worried about. 
you only realize that you’ve arrived once you notice minghao stop beside you. your mind is still elsewhere, so it doesn’t occur to you until later to wonder how he knew which house to stop at. the wind has completely died down, and the silence that follows is eerie, like the calm before a storm. except there is no storm. there’s only you, and minghao, and the dead of night.
you climb the steps to your front porch and pull your mail out from the metal box on the wall, tucking it under your arm as you fumble with your keys. your hand shakes from the cold as you move to unlock the door. “do you wanna stay for drinks or something?” you say, stepping inside and looking back at him.
you swear you see something flash across his eyes, but you're probably imagining things again; it's probably from the porch light flickering again. you really need to get that lightbulb changed soon. you've been putting it off for weeks, but as long as it still keeps your front door lit, then it's a project for another day.
he gives you a closed-mouth smile, nodding. “that'd be nice.” but despite his agreement he stays rooted in his spot outside, unmoving.
you hesitate in confusion. “well… come on in,” you say after a beat, gesturing inside the house with your arm. 
he finally moves, stepping tentatively through the doorway. once he's inside you flip the latch behind him, waiting for the familiar click as you hear the deadbolt slide into place. suddenly there's a tension in the room that you hadn't noticed before, and you can feel minghao's eyes following your every move.
“do you have extra locks for your door?”
he speaks up suddenly, and you jump a little in surprise. you're not usually on edge like this, but maybe it's just the season. they do say that strange things happen around halloween, after all. and on top of that, it's a full moon tonight, too.
when you don't reply right away, minghao pauses and leans against the kitchen counter, his tone casual as if he’s discussing the weather. “i just came across an article the other day about how easy it is for people to break those locks. you can never be too prepared, especially living alone…” he trails off, shrugging his shoulders.
you nod. you’d never mentioned living alone. but then again, that much is probably already obvious. no other cars parked in front of your house, no extra pairs of shoes in your front doorway, no lights on when you got home. “yeah.” you shift in place, trying to figure out how to bring the mood up.
“am i scaring you?” he asks, crossing his arms. his voice is gentle, but there's a hint of a smirk on his face that makes butterflies rise in your stomach.
“no.” you bite your lip. “should i be scared?”
“guess you’ll have to find out.”
you clear your throat and turn towards the counter, feeling your cheeks burn with heat. obviously he's just messing with you, and you have no reason to be this nervous. “i… i should probably just put my mail away, then i'll find us something to drink. you’re probably tired, i’ll just—”
in your haste to look busy, your hand slips and the stack of papers scatter across the floor. the edge of one of the thicker envelopes catches on your index finger, slicing through the skin, and immediately a pinprick of blood starts to seep from the cut. you jump backwards in surprise and let out a yelp, inhaling sharply as you bring your finger to your mouth out of instinct. 
when you realize what you've done, you pull your finger out of your mouth, squeezing your other hand around the wound to try and stop the bleeding. “sorry! oh my god, this is so embarrassing, i—”
but you stop when you look up and see minghao frozen in place, staring at your hand. his eyes have suddenly grown dark, a deep pitch black so that you can’t see his pupils, and his gaze is still fixed on the small smeared pool of crimson red on your fingertip. you’re about to ask him something, although you’re not sure what you mean to ask, but he speaks before you can get another word out.
“can i see?” 
his voice is like a lullaby, filling your ears like soft music, and before you can even think about what you’re doing you find yourself lifting your hand and holding it out towards him.
his eyelashes flutter as he takes your hand gingerly, his nostrils flared as he watches the blood still running down your finger. he finally breaks his concentration away from the cut, lifting his gaze to stare at you. the look in his eyes is so intense, and you swear you see his eye twitch but it could’ve just been a blink. he doesn’t break eye contact as he lifts your hand to his mouth, sliding his lips around your finger. you think you feel his teeth graze against your skin, but you probably imagined that. 
“band-aid?”
it’s not until he speaks a second later that you realize he’s taken your finger out of his mouth, and you look down at the cut. your hand feels cold and clammy, and you’re so dizzy that you have to lean against the counter so you don’t fall over. you blink and try to shake yourself out of your daze, but your body feels so heavy all of a sudden, too slow to move. even the soft kitchen light seems unnaturally bright to your eyes, and you feel lightheaded, as if all the blood in your body has rushed to the cut on your finger. “huh?”
minghao’s voice comes through clearer now, no longer the sweet melodic tone you’d heard earlier. now the sound is sharp, easily slicing through the warm fog in your mind. “do you have a band-aid?” he repeats.
you exhale, finally coming back to your senses, though your hand is still shaking in minghao’s grip. “y-yeah. the… drawer…” you manage to lift your other hand to point across the kitchen. you swallow thickly, trying to ground yourself and calm down. for some reason you feel positive he can hear your heart pounding in your throat. “there’s a box. by the silverware.”
he moves away, but you vaguely register that he still hasn’t let go of your hand. his hand is freezing, his touch ice cold against your skin, and you feel yourself shiver. the overwhelming urge to sleep overtakes you, and you let your eyes fall closed for a moment while you wait for him.
when you open your eyes again, you’re not in the kitchen anymore. you swear your eyes were only closed for a split second, no longer than a single blink, but now you’re sitting on your couch with your finger tightly wrapped in a bandage.
minghao stands in front of you, watching you closely.  “are you okay?” he asks. his voice is clear again, as casual as can be, and you almost thing you've dreamed this whole situation up. it's a better explanation, at least, than acknowledging you embarrassing yourself in front of your hot colleague.
your head feels so heavy, and you lean against the back of the couch to relieve the ache in your neck. there's a chill in your body that wasn't there before, a tingling feeling that almost borders on pleasurable, but you force it away. 
you forgot he'd even asked you a question until he lets out a sigh, running his fingers through his long hair to flip it out of his face. “i told you it's not safe to be around here at night alone.”
you frown in confusion, your head still feeling woozy. “it's only a papercut, minghao. and i'm fine, i'm not alone. there's a perfectly good doctor standing in my house right now.”
he clicks his teeth at your response, though you can't figure out what you'd said wrong. “you're a naive little thing, aren't you?” he exhales, tsking almost disapprovingly.
despite his tone, his words almost make you laugh, because suddenly everything makes sense. the shy meeting at the library, the encounter in the street, him offering to walk you home… this whole time, it's all been connected, and it took something as small as a papercut to figure it out. “are you hitting on me?”
he lets out a noise of surprise and starts to open his mouth, but you continue before he can say anything. “you could've just asked for my number, you know. i'm not taking classes at the university, so i don't think there's any rules against it.”
“trust me, i would really enjoy that; but no, that's not the reason i'm here.” he manages to get a word in, but you're not deterred. you can see it in the way he stands in front of you, eyeing you like the most delicious treat he's ever seen. you can't believe you didn't realize it sooner.
you hum, crossing your arms as you stare up at him from the couch. “but you do want to sleep with me.”
“i— maybe,” minghao huffs, but you swear you see a little bit of pink in his pale cheeks. he shifts on his feet, a timid expression on his face that seems unbefitting for a man who literally just stuck your bloodied finger in his mouth. “but—”
“aw, don't be shy.” you smile. “i won't bite. promise.”
that gets a laugh out of him. “but i might.”
“ooh, freaky.” you raise your eyebrows. you didn't strike him as the type to be into that, but maybe it's a doctor thing. and besides, who are you to judge? “are you, like, a vampire or something?”
you expect him to laugh again, but he seems unphased by your accusation, simply nodding like you'd just asked him his favorite food instead of whether or not he's a mythical undead creature. “yeah. does that frighten you?”
you shake your head, but you stop quickly when the motion makes you a little dizzy, though you can't comprehend why. “nah, i've seen worse. i had an ex-boyfriend that wanted to be my dog and let me walk him around my house on a leash, but…” you stop, realizing you're probably giving out too many details that minghao probably doesn't care about. “anyway, you already sucked on my finger, so it can't get any weirder than that. are you gonna bite my neck? because that's kinda hot.”
minghao's eyes widen, surprised by your offer, as if he's not the one who just claimed to be a vampire. he narrows his eyes and stays silent for a moment, listening for an inaudible sound. he must decide that you're being genuine, because he quickly relaxes, his lips turning up into a smile. “i… could. only if you want me to. if you'd let me.”
“i do want you to.”
he groans like that's the best idea he's ever heard in his life, and it makes you giggle. it's been too long since you've had somebody in your house who's this enthusiastic about roleplaying. maybe this is the change up you've needed in your life. it's perfectly fitting for the halloween season, too.
“are you sure?” he asks, and you suddenly realize his voice has dropped a few octaves lower. damn, he really is into this.
you pull yourself to your feet, still feeling a little lightheaded, but you're thinking clearly. you're sure of it. if you get in trouble with the university for fucking somebody who's technically your coworker, then so be it. 
“yeah. go on, bite me.”
in one swift motion minghao swoops in, pulling you closer and pressing his lips against yours. his hand wraps around your neck to keep you in place and he inhales sharply, his nails digging into your skin as he tightens his grip. any reservations you still had about him are gone the second you feel his teeth drag against your lips, his tongue slipping into your mouth easily.
you whimper into his mouth as he kisses you, but a second later he pulls away and releases his hand from around your neck, leaving you gasping for breath. he moves again, casually settling himself down on the couch in the spot where you'd just been, and you watch his movements with wide eyes.
he seems refreshed just from the kiss, his eyes sparkling with a new kind of light. he pats his thigh, spreading his legs out wider as he gets comfortable. before he even says a word you feel drawn to him, immediately moving towards him as if being beckoned by an invisible force.
“come on, darling, sit. you want me to bite you?” he finally speaks up. he flashes a grin at you as you plant yourself on his lap, your knees on either side of his hips. you're expecting his body to be warm, but like when you shook his hand in the library, all you feel is cold. a shiver runs through you at the feeling, and you briefly consider getting up to turn the heater on first, but you're already melting into minghao's lap and it feels way too good to leave now when you're just getting started.
“such a pretty thing.” he brushes your hair off your neck and back behind your ear, sending another shiver down your spine at his freezing touch and his deep voice. “will you give me a little taste?” 
his tone makes you pause. you thought he'd have let up on the joke by now, but he seems completely serious to see this through. either he just really likes to roleplay, or…
thunder cracks outside, and you startle on his lap. but he just chuckles, his hand snaking around your waist to hold you tighter against him. “don't be afraid, now. the fear makes you taste so sour, and you're much too beautiful for that, my darling.” he lets out a hum, and your gaze is drawn to his eyes like a magnet. “you're safe with me. just relax and let yourself enjoy it. i promise you'll like it.”
he pauses to wait for your nod, and once you do he moves in closer, his long eyelashes fluttering as he flicks his gaze up to look at your eyes one more time. he goes completely still, inhaling like he's searching for something. but after a moment he seems satisfied with this position, and he settles his ice cold lips against the warmth of your neck.
“ready?” he murmurs against your skin, and his breath makes your skin erupt with goosebumps. it's strangely reminiscent of a chilly gust of wind, the same cold wind blowing outside your house tonight.
you nod again, suddenly feeling shy. his name is on the tip of your tongue, but it instantly dies in your throat before any sound leaves your lips, and you feel his teeth sink into your neck. you choke out a gasp, whimpering at the split second of pain that blooms under your skin but bleeds into pleasure almost as quickly as it begins.
you let out a shaky exhale, struggling to catch your breath. every muscle in your body feels paralyzed. you squeeze your hand on minghao's shoulder, your nails digging into his back as hard as you can.
your lips are parted so beautifully in euphoria, minghao thinks, and yet you don't even realize it. of course you wouldn't. you don't understand how perfect you are, how perfect you are for him. he doesn't let up, plunging his teeth deeper into your neck as he revels at the flood of arousal in your veins that melts onto his tongue like candy.
you try to suppress a moan but it falls from your lips before you can think hard enough to stop it, your hips rolling against his lap. you've never felt a rush like this before in your life. you're addicted to it. every sensation is heightened, every nerve alight with ice cold fire.
you let out a whine and then moan again, grinding your hips down on him desperately. you can vaguely register the hard, thick bulge of his length between your legs but it's the last thing on your mind right now, so focused on chasing the high that's building inside you. you can taste colors and sounds and smells, almost overwhelmed with how sensitive everything is, yet it's the best feeling you've ever had.
he pulls back from you slowly and you whimper as you feel his fangs retract from your neck, leaving you with an even colder sensation that prickles on your skin. his tongue laps at the fresh wound, but your brain can't determine whether the dripping wetness on your skin is blood or saliva. 
“more,” you gasp out once you find your voice again, still panting in exhilaration. your head is full of pressure and you feel dizzy again, even more than earlier. you have to fight to keep your head upright instead of letting it fall against his chest, the weight almost unbearable, but nothing compared to how good your body feels right now.
“no more.” minghao shakes his head firmly. his mouth is stained with blood, the dark crimson red that's blotted over his plush lips making them seem even paler in contrast. he reaches one hand up to hold the back of your neck, and instantly you feel relief from the aching heaviness of your head. “that's enough for tonight. can't let you lose any more blood, sweetheart. but thank you for the snack.”
you exhale quietly as you try to breathe naturally again, but your hips never stop moving. minghao can hear the vibrations from your heart pounding as you grind down against his lap, and it only stirs him up further. it's been a long time since he's been this excited about something other than feeding. he almost can't remember the last time he'd felt the desire to be intimate, and that only makes you seem all the more exciting. it's not what he'd been expecting when he'd offered to follow you home tonight, but this outcome is much, much better.
you're quieter than he'd thought you would be. but then again, everyone reacts differently to him. some in horror, some in shock, some in fear, some in lust. you... well, it's clear you're enjoying it. but you're too quiet. he wants to hear your beautiful screams, the desperate way your breath catches in your throat as your lungs fill with air. he wants to hear the rush of blood in your veins, tinged sweet with your arousal like sticky melted sugar. more than anything he wants to drink you up, but he can't. even if he could, he won't. a beautiful thing like you, you're the kind of meal that someone like him waits centuries for, like a perfectly aged wine savored slowly over years instead of gulped down in one sitting. he's already had a taste of you, and he's perfectly content to wait centuries more for another bite. luckily, he's a very patient man.
but you don't have the benefit of centuries of patience like he does, and he can tell. this isn't enough for you. he can smell it, he can practically taste it in the air that you're not going to get off like this, at least not without taking more from you. and he's determined not to let his appetite get the best of him, not when you're so satisfying in so many other ways. 
“you know you can do better than that, angel,” he murmurs. the nickname burns his tongue, a sharp stinging pain as it leaves his icy lips, but he doesn't care. anything he has to go through to have any part of you, even the wrath of heaven itself, is well worth it to him. all you need is a little encouragement, and he's happy to provide.
you let out a whine, your eyes meeting his dark ones as you tentatively rest your hands on his shoulders once more. he feels firm beneath your grasp, although you don't know why you were expecting him not to be. the tingling feeling in your body is starting to wear off, and he doesn't feel real. there's a fog around everything right now, hazy like walking through a dream. or maybe a nightmare. it's too hard to tell right now. maybe you'll wake up in a few hours and look back on this and laugh. maybe you fell asleep at the library and never even made it home. the only thing you know for sure is that you're never covering another night shift for jun ever again after this. or, maybe you will. actually, maybe you'll offer to cover his shifts every night, if it gives you another chance to see minghao again.
“you're thinking too hard, darling,” minghao interrupts, though you haven't spoken out loud. “i can't do anything you won't like. can't hurt you, at least not tonight. but you're too sweet to waste, anyway. i wouldn't dare spoil you.” he hums, tilting his head downward to look at you through his lashes, his eyes boring into you so intensely that you feel it in the deepest parts of your soul. 
“then, what are you going to do?” you manage breathlessly, meeting his gaze. you're so eager for more, and you're not even trying to hide it anymore. you don't think you could hide it no matter how hard you tried.
minghao hums, brushing your hair back again with his slender fingers. “mm, how about you show me where your bedroom is first, darling? then i'll tell you.”
but before you can answer he stands up and scoops you up into his arms. it seems like only a second passes before he reaches your room, depositing you on your bed with a cold gust of air.
you can't see him in the darkness, and you almost start to call out for him nervously. you've grown used to the familiar coldness of his body, and the room feels emptier without his touch. but as soon as the thought crosses your mind, the candles on your windowsill suddenly flicker to life, crackling with a small burst of flame.
“better?” minghao murmurs, appearing beside you at the edge of the bed. his figure seems to melt into the darkness, barely visible at the edges of your vision, but you know he's there.
“would be even better if you'd touch me already,” you reply, and that earns you a smirk from him.
“forgive me for giving you a chance to change your mind.” minghao huffs and rolls his eyes a little. eager may have been an understatement. 
you whine impatiently and reach out for him, but he cuts you off before you can protest. his voice grows serious, the same sharp tone he used earlier that registers so clearly in your mind. “you're allowed to say no. i'm not using any tricks on you to make you obey me. if you want to stop, then i will.”
something about his voice feels genuine, and you know he's telling the truth. “okay,” you hum softly, trying to match his serious tone. “but i'm saying yes.”
he exhales almost in exasperation, but he's smiling as he leans down over the bed to capture your lips again. his mouth is cold, but this time you're expecting it and it doesn't catch you so off guard.
you're getting used to the feeling of kissing minghao. he tastes better than anyone you've ever kissed, and it's quite easy once your brain manages to get past the initial mental barrier of holy shit you're kissing a vampire and he's really good at it.
one of his hands finds its way down your pants, and instinctively you bite down on his lip in surprise at the sudden icy sensation rubbing between your folds. but that only makes him groan and press his fingers harder against you, moving up to trace circles around your clit.
you whimper into his mouth, your hips simultaneously bucking towards him and away from him as he sinks a finger inside. the cold feeling is such a new sensation, and you clench down automatically around him.
but despite the coldness of his touch, your cheeks are burning hot, and it's getting harder and harder to catch your breath. you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him down closer to you, the front of his body pressed against yours, and he slides in another finger.
he almost can't believe you're real. this close to you he can hear your heartbeat thumping and he knows you're alive, the saccharine-sweet scent of your blood coursing through your veins serving only as a reminder of his own mortality. you're everything he's not: warm and alive and full of emotion, but that only makes him want you more.
the wind has picked up again, drowning out the sounds of your moans as the trees outside thud their branches against the side of the house. it only takes another moment for you to reach your peak, falling apart around him with a choked whimper. he slips his fingers halfway out before thrusting them back in, repeating the motion as he presses the heel of his palm against your clit for more stimulation.
his nostrils flare as your scent gets even more powerful, and he has to concentrate all his energy on keeping himself in check. he's never been more tempted to drink from someone in all his life. he can still taste your blood on his tongue from earlier, his mouth beginning to water at the memory, and in the back of his mind he wonders if you can taste it, too. if you were that good before, then he can only imagine how you'd taste now, with the added syrup of your arousal. you're like an ambrosia he can never have, the sweetest nectar he's ever had the pleasure of sampling. 
his resolve is crumbling, but he promised he wouldn't drink any more. it would hurt you, and it would pain him even more than it would you. if he says anything then you'd only plead for him to do more, lost in the aphrodisiac of his venom and unable to tell your own limits, so he keeps his thoughts to himself and just kisses you harder, swallowing your moans instead of your blood. maybe if he's lucky he'll get another chance to have you another day, once you've had time to rest and recover. if you're willing, he could keep this up for a while. you could be his. forever. 
your thoughts are fuzzy when he pulls away from you, keeping his fingers buried inside for a moment longer before slipping out. the candles’ flames dance wildly, casting long shadows across your walls as minghao seems to shimmer in the air beside you.
“wait,” you call out for him weakly, still catching your breath as you come down. “please.”
minghao hums, his figure solidifying on the bed above you. he slides his fingers into his mouth, slowly licking your wetness off of them with a groan before he moves to unbutton his shirt.
“oh, i'm not going anywhere.”
Tumblr media
i hope you enjoyed this!! if you did, please consider reblogging or leaving a comment or an ask :) it shows me this is something people want to see more of, and knowing people like this makes me want to write more of it! i'm pretty new to writing non-human characters so feedback would be super appreciated, i hope you liked it <3 thanks for reading!!
if you want to be notified when i post a new fic, you can join my taglist here!
taglist — located in the replies
637 notes · View notes
lanadelreyscokewhor3 · 9 months ago
Text
DOWN BAD- P.B PARKER
Pairing- Jock! Peter x Nerd! Reader (enemies to… lovers?)
Word Count: 4.3k
Summary: Peter Parker constantly nags you, and you hate his guts (naturally). So what better way to mellow the hate by being paired together for a class project? And why, if you hate his guts, do you want to touch him so bad?
Warnings: Making out, suggestive sexual content, dry humping, teasing, swearing etc…
Notes: It’s been a while, I apologize if my writing is a bit rusty! I hope you enjoy nonetheless, I had a fun time writing, and I really did miss it (Taylor Swifts new album really inspired me too!) I am using my phone to post for the first time, I hope to go back and format/ edit if need be when I can use my laptop again. Thank you for all the support :)
Tumblr media
“Don’t look at me like that.” You huffed, eyes sharp as daggers as your cool gaze slid over to your target and struck its mark.
Peter Parker. Bullseye.
You could feel his lingering attention solely focused on you, a coy smirk upon his lips as he tapped his pencil against the wooden desk, its dull echo like nails on a chalkboard. A taunting metronome in the back of your mark as he leaned over to tower over you in his seat.
It was too close to yours for your liking.
“Like what pipsqueak?” he murmured, drowning out the professor's droning voice as he dragged on. You wished you could hit him with the textbook in your bag. Both of them, honestly.
“Like you’re thrilled for this. Don’t act like you like me.”
“Well I do like you.” He smiled, beaming ear to ear.
For him, it was the best day of his life. Getting randomly paired with “whoever you’re sitting next to, I don’t care.” (the professor's words, not yours), was a thrill for him, he got to pick on the quiet, shy girl more than usual.
Which would be a shock, considering the sheer amount he did already, always finding his way next to you to tease you, especially with and to his stupid jockey friends. This project was worth thirty percent of your grade. You couldn’t afford this.
“Well I don’t like you. So fuck off.” You heard a low whistle from behind you, a chuck alongside it from his friends. “Kitty has claws?” Peter whistled, eyebrow raising in mock surprise as you shifted your legs to the other side of the chair, angling away from him.
“Oh you’re in for it now Parker” Bucky laughed as you covered your ears in an attempt to drown them out. You felt like you were in middle school again, the way they mocked you. And what made it worse was that it got to you. Not that the jokes and remarks meant anything much, but it was just the sheer annoyance of it all.
You had thrived to be a straight A student your entire life, and in this class… you could feel them slipping. Taking a deep breath, you clenched your pen harder in your hand, pressing so hard the page snagged as you wrote.
You could still feel his eyes on you, flickering over from under his glasses ,his muscles flexing subtly under his blue t-shirt. You pretended not to look, and to not focus on the fact he was extremely attractive. You spent the rest of the hour doing just that, scolding yourself for any indecent thought you had ever had about him, ever. By the time the professor had snapped his laptop shut, the projector turning dark as students started to talk amongst themselves as they packed up, you had half a page of notes, max.
“I’ll be in touch.” he leaned down and whispered, hand lingering by your chair as he slipped by. “Fuck you.”
He just threw his head back and laughed, his friend group joining him as he looked back. And winked. You groaned. This was going to be three weeks of hell.
—————————————————————————
It was a Thursday when you got a text from him. An unknown number flashed on your screen as you lay face down on your bed, contemplating life and if this class was seriously worth it or not.
The buzz of the phone had your head snapping up, confused until it suddenly dawned on you.
Unknown: Think we should start brainstorming for this thing pipsqueak?
Well fuck, you thought, wanting to throw your phone across the room. This class wasn’t that important, right? (It was).
Taking a deep breath, you sat up as your thumbs started to fly across the screen.
You: Who is this?
Unknown: I’m hurt, pips. Truly.
You: I think you have the wrong number.
You smirked. Okay, who were you kidding… this was kind of fun. Kind of.
Peter: It’s Peter, you jerk. Are you really going to make me spell it out for you?
You: Peter who? Doesn’t ring a bell.
Good. Knock him down a few pegs. You giggled to yourself, quickly stopping once you realised why exactly you were kicking your feet like a school girl, for who exactly. You layed back down, head muddled with meaningless thoughts that jumbled as you waited for his response. Grabbing a stuffie, you hugged it close to your chest, feeling it rise and fall as you caught your breath, grounding yourself. Why on earth did this mean so much to you? Why did his texts, something so easily ignorable- suddenly a waiting game?
Peter: Ha ha, very funny pips.
You: How did you even get my number anyways?
Peter: Long story, I had to go on a bit of a hunt. A friend, of a friend of a friend, you get the point. I can be very persuasive ;)
Nope. You thought. Don’t give into this.
You: I’m sure.
Peter: You wanna come over on the weekend or meet at Braxston’s to start… brainstorming?
You: I don’t want to do anything of the sort, but if that gets this over with as soon as possible- then sure. Only one of us has a brain to storm anyways.
Peter: You’ll regret that pips.
You clicked off your phone, a ghost of a smirk on your face. His threat surprisingly didn’t seem like a real threat, but actual light hearted teasing, not the kind he often did.
Fuck. You were supposed to be hating him. You did hate him. It was only three weeks with him. You weren’t sure if you meant that with relief or disappointment.
————————————————————————————
It was disappointment.
You sighed, closing your eyes as you rubbed your creased temple. It was nearly midnight , and your books were still scattered across the desk you occupied, the library a ghost town considering it was a Friday night. Braxston library tended to be on the empiter side, which is why you preferred it. It was the oldest library on campus, smelling of old pages and cedarwood.
Sometimes, when you needed a break you would get up and run your fingers across the leather spines, or climb the ladder for a change of view of the stained glass windows. But tonight, you lacked the motivation to even bother standing. It had been a long night, filled with cramming and stress. Pen and highlighter stained your hands as you shook them out, cramped and aching. For the last hour you had solely focused on the final you and Peter had to pull out your ass, coming up with backup plans with the worry he would abandon you completely.
Topics, ideas, theories- god you didn’t even know anymore. Your body lacked caffeine, your iced coffee long gone. You grew tired of this mindless work, sliding off your headphones to admire the near empty room around you.
Suddenly, you wished it was completely empty.
Peter looked just as shocked to see you, eyes widening in surprise, backpack slung over his shoulder, hair ruffled and eyebags prominent as if he had fallen asleep and been startled awake.
“Pips? I thought we weren’t supposed to meet until tomorrow?” He made his way over to you, inviting himself to lean over you, on your desk. You stared up at him with a look of amusement.
“We don’t have to meet at all. It’s very bold you assume I’m here to see you, of all people.” you snorted. His eyebrow raised. “So who are you here to meet?”
“Two papers and exam prep. You?”
“More or less the same” he smirked, and you felt butterflies start to churn in your stomach. “Sounds like great fun. I’m sure they’re lovely.” you said, snarky comment slipping out before you could stop it, turning in your seat as you often did around him so he wouldn’t see the fluster and nerves in your demeanour whenever you were near him.
He leaned down, breath warm against the column of your neck. You couldn't breathe. You could not fucking breathe with him this close to you. The rich scent of his cologne made you dizzy, it intoxicated you as you stared at your laptop screen, as if it possessed the knowledge of the entire universe.
“You know, you can’t avoid me forever. You’re gonna have to confront me at some point, pip.”
“I don’t know what you're talking about” you snarled softly, staring at the coy, cockly little smirk you wanted to wipe off his face as he stood. “Sure you don’t.” He nodded his head towards your screen, with a wink.
“Good song.” he smiled, before he was off. You continued to stare at him as he walked out the door, not looking back once. Not a care in the world as he slipped on his own headphones, and around the corner.
Eyes moved down to stare at the pause button of your song, lyrics burning into your ears at the thought of him listening to it- and enjoying it.
Down bad, waking up in blood, staring at the sky, come back over and pick me up- fuck it if I can’t have us, I might just not get up, I might stay down bad.
You were so incredibly fucked.
———————————————————
You took a deep breath. Then another.
You let the crisp, cool night air wash over your burning skin, the faint smell of weed tickling your senses, probably from a house down the street. It was a pretty busy neighbourhood, full of students you recognized from afar on campus. You didn’t associate with the more ‘popular’ kids, if that could even be considered a thing past high school.
You tried to shake off the uneasiness that stuck with you, cracking your knuckles as you tried to prepare yourself to not only see Peter, but to interact with him- in his house. Most likely for hours. You knew you probably looked like a complete idiot out on the sidewalk, just near his house but you had to muster some form of courage.
All you could see was a faint light from what looked like the living room, and a light upstairs- you presumed his room. No sign of life other than that.
You thought of his words, how twisted they sounded. You can’t avoid me forever. You’re gonna have to confront me at some point, pip.
Fuck it.
You slipped from your hiding spot (from Peter, you were placed behind a large tree in his front yard, but god knows what people driving by thought), and mentally prepared yourself for his roommates to answer the door, making fun of you before he put the cherry on top. Practically leaping up the porch stairs, you raced to the door, knocking quickly.
You wanted this over and done with. Your palms were clammy and your stomach churned viciously as you heard footsteps near the door. It took everything in you to stay rooted to the ground and to not flee, and when Peter appeared, you feared the opposite.
How the hell you were supposed to move with him in that slutty little fit, a pair of grey sweatpants slung low on his waist, his v-line and happy trail on full display… his toned abs and arms in a little white muscle shirt… gods you didn’t know. You were sure your tongue fully hung out of your mouth like some cartoon character as you took him in.
“Took you long enough” he said with a snort, adjusting his glasses, sliding them further up his nose. You didn’t even know he had glasses. Did he wear contacts? Had he worn them and you just didn’t notice? No, surely that wasn’t the case, you noticed everything he did. It was like he sucked all of the air out of the atmosphere whenever he walked in a room. It was suffocating, in a way. Of course you had to look at him, and you were sure you weren't the only one.
“I was admiring the greenery.”
“I saw that. I wasn’t sure the maple needed to be examined that long.” he smirked, and your felt your fists instinctively clench.
He had saw you- so you were fucked and now the only logical thing to do was to run into a brick wall. Perfect, got it.
“I enjoy living in the moment, and I don’t take nature for granted.’ you huffed, attempting to compose yourself as he stepped aside, motioning for you to enter. “I’m sure. Don’t worry it was cute.” he smiled, running a hand through his tosseled hair.
You slid off your shoes, setting them next to his worn in converse you always saw him wear. You noticed the other pairs were missing, not even a missing lace to be found.
“Where are your roommates?” you asked as entered, surveying the open space. It was surprisingly tidy for a boys place, and you couldn’t help but smirk at the thought of Peter rushing around attempting to clean up before you came (though you doubted he would ever do that). Still, it was nice to think about.
Little traces of “boy” still lingered, silly little signs scattered across the walls, flags and such, empty, crushed beer and poking out from the recycling bins. “I kicked them out, because I figured you would want to contentrate.” he said.
Yeah like I’m going to be able to conetrate with you looking that fucking fine. Ha.
“That’s considerate. I’m surprised you even know what that is, Parker. I’m impressed.”
He snorted, throwing a little look back your way as he lead you up the stairs, presumably to his room. “I’m surprised you know how to walk up stairs. You have Bambi legs.” he teased, mocking your clumsiness. You cursed him internally. Maybe out loud too, judging by his laugh.
You tried to stifle down the butterflies. You were not about to flirt with him. You were not about to let your developing feelings expand. You hated him. He was mean and he was an asshole.
You were simply here to get this project done. That’s it.
“You’re an asshole.”
“I know.” was all he said, turning down a hall to an open door, light glowing faintly- beckoning to you. You appreciated his refusal to use the overhead light- not that you’d tell him that. He’d probably look at you like you were insane.
“I see you clean for girls you bring over.” you noted, observing his (surprisingly) decently clean room.
“Bold of you to assume I cleaned. Maybe I’m always this tidy.” he smirked, arms flexing over and behind his head as he sat down in his office chair, man-spreading as he stretched.
You tried so hard not to stare. And failed miserably.
“I would’ve thought you cleaned up for ladies you bring to bed.”
His eyebrows arched. “Should I have prepared then?”
Something like churning fire burned in your belly, slithering lower and lower.
“Don’t start with me.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it pip.” he smiled coyly, knowing he had gotten you flustered. “May I?” you nodded to his bed, trying to ignore your feelings as you sat down. Fanning your skirt out, you tucked your legs in before opening your bag, attempting to cover your thighs with your bag as much as you could- his cool gaze staring lasers into your bare skin.
“So… if we have to base this on a creature in the wild…”
“Jumping straight to the point aren’t we?” he asked and you frowned in confusion.
“What did you want me to do foreplay or something beforehand?” you asked, your word choice more than intentional. You swore a little pink tinted his cheeks as he swiveled around.
“Right to it then. Okay, I was thinking spiders. Specifically their venom and social behaviours.”
You blinked. Jesus okay he had thought about this. This was not what you were expected.
“Elaborate Parker.”
He smiled. “ From what I’ve seen, not a lot is known about the venom entirely. From a predator-prey aspect.. I’ve mainly seen stuff on specific components evolving to target specific sites on cell membrains of prey tissue, we could work with that to start. Maybe expand on the social aspect and evolution.”
You were stunned. This was… more than you could’ve hoped for. Suddenly you felt bad for all the doubt aimed towards him over the few days leading up to this meeting.
“Hmm. I like it.”
“Did you have any ideas you had brewing in that genius brain of yours?” he asked, making you blush internally.
“I had some stuff just in case, but it was just random jots I’m not too proud of.”
He scoffed. “You came prepared with backup stuff?!”
You just shrugged. “Do you blame me?”
“Kinda.” he laughed. “Start thinking of me more highly pips. I even have access to a brown widow, we could do some experiments.”
You winced at the thought of actually studying a spider up close, but it was part of the job. Whatever could get this done the fastest, and you had to applaud him for providing some of your own evidence you could actually showcase.
He caught your wince, and you could feel the teasing start to start. It was like bait for him, he loved it. “The spider may bite, but I won’t. That is, unless you want me too.” he winked, and you fought the urge not to chuck your laptop at his handsome face.
“You’re gross Parker.”
“Oh I’m sure you think I am. Doesn’t make a difference to me.”
You were going to strangle him. “Let’s just focus and get this project done as soon as we can, yeah? Please.”
You riffled through your bag, grabbing different coloured pens and your notebook, skimming through your random thoughts and jots.
“Whatever you say pip.”
“Start researching Parker.” And that was that.
—————————————————————
A few hours had passed, and so far you were quite impressed with how much the two of you had gotten done. For the most part, the two of you had stayed on opposite sides of the room. If he wanted to make a move, he wasn’t physically doing it, and his roommates still hadn’t come home yet.
Though as the hours passed, he had made his way closer to you- ever so slightly. From his desk he nudged over closer and closer, his laptop landing in his lap as he worked.
“What source are you working from right now?” you asked, not bothering to cast your gaze up as you continued to type, fingers flying over the keyboard as you bit your lip in concentration. You failed to notice his eyes darting between your lips and your breasts that poked out slightly as you slouched over, licking his lips hungrily.
“Some research paper. Here.”
You let out a little oomph in surprise as he plopped down beside you, sprawled across his bed as he enveloped you in his makeshift fortress. He stared at you with such longing you felt faint, having to stop your work to pull yourself together.
Fuck.
He nodded towards it, and you realized you had been staring at him longer than you intended, forgetting about the paper completely. “Oh, yeah okay let me look.” you murmured, taking the laptop from his hand to slide it across your lap, the fan whirling softly, the warmth of it adding more coals to the fire you felt already.
He was still staring.
Please look away before I want to kiss you. Or do more then kiss you. I’m supposed to be hating you, stop please.
You tried your best to read and concentrate, but it was next to no use. All you could focus on was him, his fingers drumming on the comforter near your thigh (what man has a comforter anyways?!), and his gaze on you, that was heavy with something. Want, perhaps? Lust? Or you were delusional. Very possible.
“It’s um, it’s good. I like it, I think there’s lots of good… stuff here.”
“Good stuff huh?” he asked sarcastically, a smirk plastered across his face.
He knew. The fucker knew you were down bad.
“Yeah. You know what I mean.” you grumbled, staring back down at your screen.
“I do know what you mean. Do you know what I mean?” he asked, hand inching closer and closer to your thigh- teasing you. You took a deep breath, grounding yourself.
You could push your hatred aside for just a few minutes. It was okay, just this once. Right?
You bit your lip, and fuck if that didn’t turn him on even more. Nodding to him, as if he could speak to you telepathically.
Yes, this is okay. Please touch me. Just a little, even is fine.
“Maybe you should explain a little more, Parker.”
His fingers skimmed the edge of your skirt, warm to the touch as they stroked your skin softly, just a whisper of him lingering. Goosebumps lingered in their wake, and you pushed your laptop off to the side, not caring where it landed on the bed. Just not next to him.
“How much more?”
His voice was low. Deep. Needing. You wanted more.
Another stroke of his fingers on your thigh, closer to where you wanted him the most made you shiver, toes curling. His gaze never left yours, never faultered. Instead of its usual lightness, his teasing and bullying- his eyes were dark with lust. Nothing but his full attention was on you, and you couldn’t help but shudder as he leaned in closer.
Another hand landed on your thigh. “Yeah?” he asked, voice rough as you nodded quickly. “Mhmmm..- oh!” you let out a little gasp as he swiftly grabbed you, swinging you over to straddle his lap, tossing you as if you weighed nothing.
You hated that you found it hot.
He smirked, leaning forward- so close you could feel his thudding heart with a small hand gesture sliding across his chest, could feel his breath catching. Just a small little gap between his lips and yours.
“You’re going to regret this.” you murdered, fingers curling into his shirt, twisting the soft fabric.
“I won’t. Will you?”
“I might.”
His smile grew.
“ I still hate you, you know.”
“I know. And you look so damn hot when you do.” He pulled you closer, fingers digging into your skin, needing you closer and closer despite the two of you practically forming one being.
A clash of teeth and tongue happened, rough and harsh- full of hate and need. A hatred for your need for him. Why did you need him? Of all people?
Because he was so fucking fine.
A hand slipped under your skirt to cup your ass, squeezing it slightly. You ran a hand through his hair, tugging on it as your hips moved on their own account- causing a groan to slip from his lips.
You’d do anything to hear it again.
“This is so wrong.” was all you could moan as his lips worked their way down your neck, tracing your jaw before nipping at your earlobe.
“I don’t do right, pips. You know this.”
“Mhm. But you hate me.”
He laughed against your skin, and you rocked your hips again, a little slap to your asscheek making you jolt.
“Whatever makes you sleep better at night, pips. Whatever you want to think.” he sighed, massaging the skin as you toyed with the hair at the nape of his neck, pulling him in for another kiss.
You needed his lips on yours. You didn’t want to even try to decipher what his words meant, your head was foggy with want. You were slipping into a puddle of bliss, finally letting the restraint you held on a tight leash go- freeing the want and pure desire.
Yes, you wanted him. Yes, you hated him. And yes, he teased you. It hurt- but this didn’t. This was a soothe to his constant jabs, a salve to the wounds he caused.
“You feel so good. I want you so bad.” you confessed, causing him to moan again.
Yes. Yes, please.
“You’re killing me.”
“Good. It’s payback for the way you treat me.” you smirked, kissing him again. Hard, fast, rough. Mean.
Until he just… stopped.
Pulled away slightly, making you raise an eyebrow with confusion. His cheeks tinted slightly pink, hair messy and eyes wide with excitement, eager to keep going. To go further. So why did he just- stop?
“Parker?”
He smiled coyly.
“Don’t we have work we need to be doing?” he asked sarcastically- and you felt your stomach drop. He was teasing you. He was doing this just to get under your skin, to leave you high and dry and needing. Knowing damn well nothing could possibly get done now but him.
“You- you just want to get back to work? After that?”
“I want to do the dirtiest things imaginable to you, pips. I want to do so many things. But if we keep going and get nothing done, you’ll regret it and hate me. If we get work done, you’ll hate me too. I rather you hate me but feel secure with this, at least.” he murmured, brushing your cheek with his thumb.
It was tender, and you couldn’t help but lean into his touch. “So you just, want to work? Did I do something wrong?” you asked.
“Gods no. But it’s too easy if I just give it to you like that. You know me, pips- I tease. Maybe if you’re good and get more work done we can have some harmless, regretless fun.” he winked, sliding his hands down to your hips, picking you up again to toss you gently on his pillows, kissing your hand with a wink as he stood to go back to his desk.
Oh you were fucked. So, so fucked.
“I heard that.” he laughed, and you buried your head in your hands. This was going to be a long three weeks indeed.
2K notes · View notes
yowumi · 3 months ago
Text
underground boxer katsuki bakugou x nurse f! reader [ modern au ] TW. angst & smut
Underground boxer Katsuki Bakugou x Nurse F! Reader
Tumblr media
Summary. Underground boxer Katsuki Bakugou who grew up watching his father fight in the ring, seeing the way men get knocked down just from the strikes of his fathers fist made his heart pump, he wanted to feel that adrenaline rush. Since then his father has passed and he fought his way into the life of a boxer. He wasn’t raised to be cared for or enjoy relying on other people, so why is it that he can’t wait for you to patch him up?
.
.
.
Warnings. Fighting, Violence, Slight gore (nothing too serious), Angst (not as much as i thought there would be) Crying, Smut, Masterbation, Obsession, Bakugou has lowkey never felt the touch of a woman, etc. (Not too much smut really)
DISCLAIMER: Characters belong to Kohei Horikoshi.
A/N. this won the vote, i hope you guys enjoy (I love angsty shit) there’s implied smut and masterbation althought it isn’t very heavy. Ive been recovering from the hurricane that has been passing so I kinda brainstormed this and quick wrote in in 3 days, I hope you guys enjoy and stay safe with all the crazy weather happening <3
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
One hit to the left, another to the right, 3 hits to the left and STRIKE. A man down.
Katsuki can feel the man get back up in hesitation, seeing his legs threatening to fall yet katsuki was untouched having the man on defense the whole round. What a sad component and this is supposed to be one of the best?
What a joke.
Taking katsuki lost in pride for granted, the man strikes him with a punch straight to the jaw, katsuki laughs already drunk of the adrenaline of such an unexpected move from someone as pathetic as him.
“atta girl, you’ve finally put your big girl pants on, i see” he teased the man, only making his rage stronger.
the guy comes charging at him in full rage, giving katsuki the advantage and knocking the man straight out leaving the man to hit the floor in a thump.
“yeah katsuki, you get his ass!” Kirishima cheers on from the bleachers knowing he’s up next.
Kirishima throws him his towel, “you make it hard for me to top that” and Katsuki gives a small glance of acknowledgment.
Katsuki wasn’t very talkative or perhaps he was talkative, but not very friendly. Although, Kirishima was someone he respected, he had known him since middle school so he’s friendly in his own way.
As Katsuki chugs down his water, some spilling on his chin, As stain begins to walk around the court, coming closer to Katsuki. Stain was known for his intense boxing skills, leaving some of them with eternal injuries that were fatal for many.
But Katsuki couldn’t give one shit. He had never met nor cared enough to listen to who he was, he hated the way he walked in like he owned the place, with that smug grin of his. God, he just wanted to punch that stupid look off his face.
“Who the hell is that runt” Katsuki orders answers from Kirishima, feeling the adrenaline rush comeback to him.
Kirishima gives off a small laugh, He wondered how Katsuki really didn’t know who he was, the guy was basically famous in the underground world.
“That’s Stain, he’s one of the best” Kirishima starts standing up knowing Katsuki’s temper might get the best of him, “He’s one of the guys you might not want to mess with in here, heard he’s killed a few.” He warned.
Stain notices the angry blonde haired man staring at him with hatred, in fact, Stain noticed from the second he walked in. He’s heard a lot about this new upcoming boxer ‘bakugou’, Katsuki being known for his punches being referred to as a ‘bomb’ or ‘explosion’, knocking his opponent’s out in one blow.
“Yeah, well it seems that bitch has a staring problem, he’s been staring at me like he wants my ass ever since he’s walked in.”
Katsuki begins to make his way over to Stain with nails in his fists as he hears Kirishima chase after him, “Hey katsuki wait- hold on now, you aren’t thinking man!”
“I’m just gonna put it out straight, I don’t like you or the way you walk around like you own everyone, so quit staring at me, will you!” Katsuki yells out at him with his usual annoyed aggression.
“Ah Bakugou, it’s nice to finally meet you, I’ve heard plenty, nice to finally meet you” Stain says giving a nonchalant and unreadable expression on him.
“I don’t care, i’ll care enough to know who you are if you can beat me in the ring.”
Stain thinks about his offer, “Hm, I guess we should settle this in the ring then Mr. Bakugou” He says giving one of his smirks that ticks Katsuki off.
“Yeah whatever, when I win, you’ll have to take your old ass away from here, maybe take yourself to a nursing home while you’re at it, grandma!” Katsuki yells at the man.
“And if I win?” Stain raises a brow. Kirishima sends a worried expression towards Bakugou, In which he ignores.
“You can take my spot in the ring for good or my ass, I don’t care, it’s not like I’ll lose anyways,” Katsuki says over confidently.
“If I win, you Katsuki Bakugou, will have to retire early.”
“Bet that.”
“I’ll see you in 7 months.” And like that it was settled.
They shake on it and go their separate ways.
Kirishima and Katsuki walk out into the dark alley in their usual comfortable silence before Kirishima finally breaks it,
“I don’t have a good feelings about this Katsuki, the guys dangerous and you both are putting your lives on the line” He expresses his concern.
“Every time we step into that ring we put our life on the line, this is no different, he is nothing special, quit worrying about it already.” Katsuki brushes him off.
Kirishima stares away as if he’s biting his tongue trying not to say what’s on his mind, Katsuki notices.
“If it’s bothering you that much, just come out and say it already, jeez” Katsuki says annoyed putting his hands in his pockets and stops walking.
“Well…maybe it isn’t a bad idea for you to retire early, you’re an amazing fighter, i’m not saying this because i think you aren’t good but because you have potential to get out of this place, you aren’t too deep in yet, you can still have a way out and live a good life, I don’t want you dying in here.” Kirishima feels relived finally getting that off his chest.
“Fighting is all I know, there’s nothing else for me, that’s just stupid, why the hell would i quit for a simple life like that when i could be rocking people’s shit and ego’s to the ground and you have a baby on the way with your girl, if anything you should be taking your own advice.”
Kirishima goes quiet, he knows he isn’t the person to be speaking about that subject when he knows Katsuki is right. They both needed help. Though they would never admit that.
With that they say their goodbyes to each other waving each other off as they go their separate ways.
Katsuki walks his way home on his usual route before he sees the same white van pass by him 3 times now, which stands out in the darkness of the night. He stares it down annoyed by it already before the van stops.
Katsuki takes his hands out of his pockets getting ready to take on whoever the hell is in that van.
Before he could react a guy comes up from behind him pressing a knife slashing against his rib leaving a huge scar of blood across his stomach. “Fuck! Come here, I’ll fucking kill you bitch!”
The man who stabbed him was covered in all black, jumping his way into the van before it drives off in a rush, Katsuki holds his wound with little complaints: to be fair, it isn’t the first time he’s been stabbed.
He walks his way home holding a hand against his stomach, figuring he will fix it up once he gets home with some alcohol and gauze.
Before he could reach his block he starts to feel his vision blur and the world starts spinning, before he hits the ground harshly, bleeding out onto the floor.
and just like that, he’s out.
“Oh my! Don’t worry sir, I’ll call an ambulance right now! They are on their way!” Katsuki heard an elderly woman’s voice say in a panic as he blacked out, barely remaining conscious.
He woke up in the hospital.
He hates hospitals, he hated the sounds of the beeping, he hated the pathetic ass nightgowns, he hated the nurses that think they can fix everything, he hated being taken care of.
It was pathetic, he thought.
He gets up to walk out the room, taking out the shit the doctors have injected in him with no reaction. Before he reaches the door handle a young women opens the door.
You smile at him, “Oh it seems you’re awake Mr. Bakugou, how are you feeling?”, sending him a comforting arm around his waist, directing him back towards his bed with a light expression.
Katsuki doesn’t move your hand, he just sits back down. What drugs did they give him, holy shit.
“Don’t worry, the slash in your rib wasn’t too deep and was an easy stitch, you will only be left with a scar. It seems you were already bleeding and bruised all over your body before you were cut, can you explain what happened last night for me sir?” you look up at him from your stool.
You looked like an angel, he thought maybe he died.
What the hell, why is he thinking these things?
“Got stabbed that’s all, can i get out of here now” He says looking away, deciding your eyes on him we’re making him not think properly.
How long has it been since a woman was nice to him? or looked at him like that? Had a woman ever shown concern for him before?
You let out a soft laugh at his desperation to get out, “Don’t worry, it shouldn’t be long sir, I would just like to hold you here a bit longer to ask you some questions and make sure you heal properly!”
“Okay” He lets out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding, your laugh was mesmerizing. He didn’t know what was wrong with him.
As the days go by, you helped him change his bandages, watched over him, helped him get up, even though the feeling of your touch on his bare chest made him see stars.
In this time he also learned about you, how they were the same age, how you became a doctor because of your mother who was sick and noticed how your coffee was always cold.
On the fourth and final day you were changing his bandages once again, “Mr. Bakugou” You say grabbing his attention.
“You can call me Katsuki, don’t like being called that.” he stated out, he wasn’t in his annoyed state as often when he was with you.
“Okay, Katsuki…May I ask what you do for a living, I know you said you didn’t want to talk about it but you’re bruised and cut everywhere and some look old and others look recent, all look different from one another, I’m concerned.” you say while running your fingers around the bruises and cuts examining them with your eyes.
“Why?” He asks
“Why what?” You ask, confused.
“Why are you concerned?” He was genuinely confused, Why were you so careful and concerned about him? Why did you take care of him like this?
“Because I’m your nurse, Katsuki, it’s my job” you say not thinking of anything of it, you were his nurse. Of course you noticed how beautiful he was, and how you found it cute when he looked down like a kid in trouble when he would slightly raise his tone at you, and maybe you did like his company a bit but you were his nurse, right? you had only know him for a few days, it’s just part of the job, right?
Katsuki looks away.
How could be so stupid.
It was your job, there was no reason behind any of it or feelings, you’re a nurse, he is your patient. Why did he feel so disappointed in your answer? Why was he expecting more from you, what was wrong with him.
You notice the change in expression as you finish wrapping him up,
“Did i say something wrong or accidentally hurt you? I’m sorry, I shouldn’t go prying like that, your business is your business Mr. Bakugou.”
“You are fine, think i’m ready to be let out though.” He says not maintaining eye contact as he puts his shirt on getting ready to leave.
“Oh, I understand. You are already signed for release but I will walk you out!” you offer with a smile hoping to cheer him up.
“I’m good, I’ve got it.” He says while walking out.
And just like that, you were gone.
But you weren’t, not from his mind. For the 3 weeks he would think about you constantly, craving the way you held his waist and body like a fragile piece of glass, missing your sweet laugh and comforting smile, the thought of you lingered inside his mind and soul, leaving him distracted constantly. Which was new for Katsuki.
He got in the ring, yet his mind felt so far away from it. Your face in his head, playing back the few days you spent together, as your patient. He needed to take a few shots before the round, just to get his mind off you.
He didn’t want that to be the last time he felt your warmth and hospitality. He wanted more, he wanted to be embraced in it.
Just like that he sent a striking punch to his opponent, another easy day, although he had some blood on his hands.
He never went to the hospital, he hates hospitals.
He can take care of himself, and it was a small bleeding and the usual fracture and pain of getting hurt out there.
So why did he drive his way to the hospital and specifically request that only you could check to see if his hand was broken?
When he saw your face he immediately felt the warmth in his chests, like a hole had been filled in it. Like it wasn’t empty anymore.
The way your hands felt examining his hands, tracing your fingers all over his big veiny hands.
In which you noticed, you had never noticed his hands before, how much bigger they were than yours or how much taller he was than you that you suddenly started to realize.
Or the way he looked at you like you were an angel sent down just for him.
Suddenly you felt suffocated and trapped by his stare, feelings nervous, why did you feel nervous with a patient?
“Come with me, Mr. Bakugou, I’ll get you examined right away” You say looking into his eyes
He nods and follows you to a room where he sits down and watches you as you examine his hands, not taking his eyes off you, feeling like the world has paused now that he’s with you again.
Like nothing else matters.
Is this what Kirishima was talking about?
Is this the simple life, simple needs, he needed you, but he loved that he needed you? He wanted more, more, more.
Maybe it was the alcohol talking, right?
“did you get bangs?” he asked now noticing the change of appearance, it looked good on her.
You blushed, surprised that he would notice something like that. “I did, im surprised you noticed.” Why did you feel so jittery all of a sudden?
“I like them.” He compliments you.
“Thank you, Mr. Bakugou.” You respond slightly losing composure as your face turns a light red at his compliments.
“Makes you look more mature, it’s sexy” He says without thinking, it was like he couldn’t control his thoughts today.
You wonder if you heard him right, his face showed no expression so you figured you misheard. “What happened to your hand today?” You ask taking advantage of how talkative he is today compared to the last time you talked.
“It’s nothing you need to worry your pretty little head about” He looks down at you, his heart felt heavy, he wanted to kiss you so bad.
He wanted you to take care of him in all the places he needed you.
He wanted you to touch him more, he needed it.
Before thinking he leaned down to press his lips against yours in the dark room.
And you let him. For a few seconds, you wanted to enjoy it, entranced in the moment.
You let his tongue enter your mouth and hold your cheek, letting him enter your mouth before coming back to reality, you were at work. Anyone could walk in.
And then you taste it.
The alcohol on his breath wasn’t something you could ignore.
No.
This was wrong on so many levels, he is your patient. you shouldn’t take advantage on him.
you push him off.
After you allow yourself to catch your breathe and see bakugou wait for you to say something, did he do something wrong?
“I think you should be assigned a new nurse.” you say. “I’ll have nurse jenna come and check you out, I don’t feel this is an appointment thing to do as your nurse.”
“Wait- what? I don’t want a new nurse, I requested you.” He said in slight sadness in his eyes, he had came here for you.
“I am sorry, Mr. Bakugou.” You say walking out.
He had no interest being in this hospital any longer if you weren’t taking care of him, he walked out back to his home.
His home that he lived alone in.
He sat in his bed still a bit tipsy, he fucked everything up didn’t he? He scared you off just because he couldn’t keep his thoughts to himself.
And yet he can’t feel sorry he did it.
He would do it again.
He would do anything to feel your lips against his again, he took the bottle of liquor near his bed and pressed it to his lips.
He wanted to taste you again.
And just like that Katsuki slid a hand down his chest, the same way you would, trying to mimic the way you did.
He let himself do that, not rushing, doing it slowly just how you would. He closes his eyes, imagining it was you.
Before he slides his hand down to his lower stomach, going even slower, hesitating.
This was so wrong.
But it felt so fucking good.
He pressed his palm over his sweatpants, rubbing the bulge in his pants to ease it some.
Before he slowly slid his hands in his pants, the same hands you touched.
He stroked himself over his boxers. feeling the precum already start to leak from him.
He felt so overstimulated.
He just needed you.
Just let him have tonight to think of you this way, it will be the last time, he promises.
1 Month Later.
Match after Match.
It was all he could do to get his mind away from you, before it was you taking his mind away from the matches.
One punch after another, he couldn’t stop fighting, He needed to keep fighting.
He found himself becoming even more aggressive, even shutting out Kirishima completely, as Kirishima became more concerned coming closer by the day to retiring.
He also found himself drinking more.
He never really was a drinker, he just wanted to numb the thoughts of you.
“Get me my usual” he demands the bartender as he slides some cash across the table.
“Alright sir, i’m just gonna need some Identification to confirm your over the age of 21.”
“You guys don’t usually ask for that, You’ve known me long enough to know i’m of age, now just get me it, i’m not in the mood” He says growing irritated.
“I’m sorry sir, but our new policy requires us to check everytime.”
“Well I don’t have my ID on me so can’t you just take a rain check or something.” Katsuki says growing even more annoyed by the second.
“I’m afraid I cannot sell you any alcohol until I see some ID, i’m going to need you to leave” The bartender slides him back his cash.
This ticks Katsuki off and he loses it. He randomly punches a guy who was walking in the bar as he starts to head out.
The guy turns towards him in anger, much bigger than katsuki
“What are you looking at big guy, you want a kiss or something, fuck off” He says now yelling.
The guys says to take this outside and little did Katsuki know that the man had a gun on him.
BOW!
one shot barely grazing his skin near the left side of his stomach and the pressure of the bullet sends Katsuki stepping back before the man comes at him with full force, bruising him.
Next thing he knows he’s in a corner of an alley beaten up half to death before he sees a familiar face.
He sees you.
He must have died.
How are you here?
“Katsuki! Is that you? What happened, It’s okay, I’ll take of you now just stay conscious for me please! your badly injured!” You say as you try to keep your composure but tears end up spilling out anyways. You try and pick up his body weight as he slouches against you as you take him to your apartment.
You lay him down on your couch carefully, thankfully he was only grazed so it wasn’t anything too major but he was still beaten up pretty badly.
You take care of him, you both don’t look nor say anything to each other. Before Katsuki stops your movements, placing a soft hand on your wrists.
“I’m so sorry.” he says looking you now in the eye with something you’ve never seen before. Not that angry or annoyed look, he seemed hurt, genuine, desperate.
It wasn’t his fault. It wasn’t like you weren’t thinking of him too, it isn’t like you disliked the shared kiss between the two of you. It wasn’t like you weren’t waiting on him, as well.
maybe you needed him just as much as he needed you.
You were so lost in your thoughts you didn’t even realize Bakugou was now crying against your chest softly and quietly, holding onto your waist.
You held him.
Before you could think anymore, you pressed soft kisses against his forehead and ran your hands through his hair.
He looked up with you with teary eyes, “I get so angry constantly, I don’t even mean it, I never think before i do anything, please tell me if i’m doing this wrong. Don’t act accordingly, I don’t want to be your patient.”
“You aren’t my patient, Katsuki. I want you.” you say trying to reassure him as you cup his face, and he gives you a boyish expression as if he’s relieved by your answer.
“Please let me take care of you.” You look down at him desperately wanting to tend to his wounds, his hand is twitching.
Little does she knows it’s because he is nervous, not injured.
he nods and lets you.
You trace your fingers around his hands, this time more carefully, you kiss his fingers after wrapping his hands as he watches, never taking his eyes off you.
You’re kissing the same hands he used to jerk off to you.
He finds himself growing aroused at the thought, you were on top of him, he tried his best to contain his dick and not be such a guy.
Before you could think twice, you looked hard at his fingers before taking two in your mouth, kissing his finger tips as you stare at him.
You knew what it was doing to him.
You felt Katsuki grow under you, he felt big. You could feel him twitch as you took 2 fingers into your mouth, softly sucking.
You slowly begin to grind against the bulge under you as he grabs your hips holding you against him as he struggles not to let his eyes fall to the back of his head.
You begin to crouch over to him getting ready to take his pants off before he stops you.
“No” He says bluntly.
“Wha-“ you didn’t finish your sentence before he flipped you over with no effort, hovering over you now.
“I want to be the one to take care of you now.” He says looking down at your body like it was the most beautiful thing in the world.
He placed a soft peck kiss on your lips, “You’re beautiful, Y/n.” He says softly moaning against the skin of your neck before softly kissing the skin.
You blush under him and look away, he turns your face towards him. “Please don’t look away from me, want to look at your face while i take care of you, angel”
You nod in obedience and open your arms away from your chest to give him room to work his way down.
He kisses the softness of your collar bones, he thinks he’s never been this gentle in his life, it felt so easy being gentle with you, like he didn’t have to hold up his rude boy attitude with you.
He looked up for you to search for any discomfort, making sure you were perfectly comfortable as he did this. He took a hand to your chest and laid a soft firm grab, unbuttoning your shirt.
He leaves your bra on as he places his mouth over the soft plush skin of your breasts, playing with your nipples giving it a gentle twists loving the way your arch against him and let out a small whine when he touches you.
He loved that he was calling you pleasure, not harm.
“Katsuki, I need you.” The way you moaned out his name had him struggling to keep himself calm.
He wanted to hear more of it, just like that.
“i know, baby” He says while taking all your clothes off before removing his own as well.
That night he took care of you, in every way you needed. He wanted to return the favor you gave to him so many times. He would do it over and over again, He felt like a dog, loyal to you in every way.
The day of the Fight.
5 months later.
Stain enters the ring confidently as fans cheered loudly ranting on, some even making bets on who would die in the ring tonight.
Katsuki walks out onto the ring, blocking out all noises around him, his mind only on his fiancé (you) at home thinking he was asleep.
God, she would kill me if she found out, he thought to himself.
He hasn’t been in this ring since the day you’ve made love, he decided to completely devote himself to be a better man for you.
He just couldn’t miss this fight, and honestly if he did he probably would’ve been killed for it or worst they would’ve hurt you considering the fact that Stain was most likely the one who sent that man to stab him that day.
“You ready to get your ass beat, kid” Stain said spitting on the ground they walked on.
“Give me all you’ve got, old man”
And like that the match started, blow after blow, both stain and Katsuki going at each others throats, not backing down on anything, fighting for dominance in the ring.
Before Katsuki takes the high ground now finding a weak spot, landing a sharp punch sending a shock to Stain, earning a cocky chuckle from him
“Not bad, kid”
Katsuki takes this chance to come at full power, not giving Stain time to get up or reclaim his place, he knocks him down to the ground.
RIGHT.
LEFT.
He cockily laughs feeling himself getting cocky and drunk over the adrenaline of this before his mind runs back to you, a home to go back to.
He has a home to go back to.
He wants to come home to you, safe and sound, he doesn’t want you to cry or see him hurt, He wanted to be the one to take care of you.
Stain took Katsukis distraction to his advantage before pinning him to the ground harshly, making Katsuki groan. That’s gonna leave a bruise on his back.
Stain gets up and hangs on the ring.
No more.
He hears your voice, your sweet gentle voice.
Enough.
Katsuki could have easily gotten up. He easily could have dodged Stain. He easily could have beat him, claiming the title of number one.
BANG.
Stain jumped on top of Katsuki’s body landing a finishing fist on Katsuki’s chest before it hits the ground next to him, almost grazing him.
He missed.
He missed?
Why didn’t he hit him?
“What the hell” Katsuki yells out in confusion.
“I’m not gonna kill ya, kid. Your friend over there saved your ass, You both got something to go home to, don’t die here.”
Kirishima.
That little bastard saved his ass.
And just like that the match was over, Katsuki let Stain win.
This would be Katsuki’s last match.
Stain was right.
He had something to go home to, a beautiful woman who cared about him and that he was crazy about. He had a life ahead of him.
No title is worth more than that.
You were his home.
.
.
.
A/N. Apologies for the rushed and corny ending lowkey 😭 I have my mind set on a gojo fic at the moment that i am trying to work up the courage to write so i’ve been preoccupied, reblogs and notes are appreciated !! This isn’t proof read so srry if there’s any mistakes
503 notes · View notes
byfulcrums · 20 days ago
Text
mtmte is the best comic ever and i can prove it to you
There is, of course, the canon mpreg
Grimlock, known Decepticon killer, gets adopted into a group known as The Worst Decepticons Alive, has a baby with them
The bloodthirsty, mentally ill guy that lowkey caused Megatron to go all evil adopts a bunch of red scraplets
Ratchet steals his ex-coworker's hands and keeps them for himself
On the hands: Before that, he would hit his with a hammer because they didn't work properly. Right before a surgery
Man experiences police brutality, decides to take over the universe
Rodimus' nonsensical doodles turn out to be a map leading to heaven
Rodimus also gets crucified
The therapist of the ship, also known as the most forgettable guy ever, is actually God with a capital G
God befriends a guy doing everything in his power to prove the existence of the afterlife
God befriends an atheist
God almost gets sacrificed
Remember the Worst Decepticons Alive? Their dumbest member (who genuinely believes squirrels live in minds) created the cure for lobotomies
There's a random man's corpse sticking out of the engine and also a kinda-vampire
To turn vampires back into regular people you have to hit them real hard in the head
The leader of the DJD runs his group of bloodthirsty killers and torturers like an office workplace
They get scolded by the tiny medic they could squish and are terribly afraid of her
You get to know how the war actually started! It was because of a curly straw
Character goes back in time to stop the war because he's gay and ends up accidentally causing it
Multiple transfem characters!! All of the girls are trans!!!! And most of the boys are gay!!!!
They made STARSCREAM the ruler of the world
There's an entire chapter dedicated to that one time they were chased by a planet
Local Girl's Best Friend Dies, Responds To That By Putting His Brain In Her Eye Socket
They steal a guy's corpse, increase his size with an experimental thingy an amoral scientist created, and use his alt mode as a spaceship when theirs gets stolen
There's an Autobot spy that communicates to them by shooting a crew member
Even the serious panels have meme potential (see: Overlord and Rodimus)
Whirl's general existence makes the world a worst place, which makes the comic even better
"What gives? I'm normal again! Well, relatively speaking."
[Singing] "No one cares! No one cares what you have to say~"
Whirl making a depressed Rodimus so angry that he goes to get by by lighting (I actually can't remember if this is how it went lmao, it might've been the other way around)
When he told everyone about the time he "killed" someone in their sleep and shoved their wand up their ass
Brainstorm creates a button that allows the characters to break the fourth wall. Swerve presses it and becomes a narrator
One of the most painful slow burns EVER. Jesus
Their first actual interaction consisted of Cyclonus dropping Tailgate because he was annoying
Then: "I knew you'd find me"
Violent warlord that has destroyed multiple planets and planned to conquer the universe gets legally mandated into becoming the ship's captain, much to Roddy's despair
At some point, Megatron starts to sound just like Rodimus when talking to Magnus and it makes him want to kill himself
OP gives Roddy and Meg the shared title of "co-captain" so Rodimus wouldn't get upset
Oh, here's a thing: Tumblr is canon in TF IDW
The Scavengers (Worst Decepticons) go to the real world as TF toys and it's never mentioned ever again
Warriors who have endured six million years of war, powerful and feared, freak out when the light goes out
Space Jesus 2 demands an audience with God, gets hit by lightning and disappears
Character survives a terminal illness by dying
Ultra Magnus gets drunk. He's a giggler. He also starts crying
And more!!!!
188 notes · View notes
honeyedmiller · 9 months ago
Text
A Burning Desire part three
firefighter!joel x f!reader
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
series masterlist
rating: 18+, minors dni.
warnings: joel miller au, firefighter!joel, reader feels anxious for a bit, feelings, fluff, the miller brothers line dancing (that deserves its own warning bc whew... anyway), the cowboy hat rule!!!, slight smut (joel and reader get touchy and rub up on each other, making out, fingering), no use of y/n.
word count: 5.6k
synopsis: joel invites you over for a barbecue, and you end up unexpectedly meeting sarah while also rekindling with someone from your past. it isn’t until you talk about joel aloud to someone who isn’t your sister that you realize how deeply you feel for him.
a/n: thank u to @endlessthxxghts for letting me brainstorm about this chapter, and giving me the cowboy hat rule idea... ;)
Tumblr media
You were nervous. 
Nervous as hell. 
The slightly anxious part of you wanted so desperately to back out of today’s plans, but you promised Joel you’d be at his place. 
He was throwing a barbecue at his house and had invited you, and originally, Sarah wasn’t supposed to be there. Her friend got sick, so she ended up staying home. 
You hadn’t known Joel for more than a month at this point, and the prospect of meeting his daughter and being introduced as the “woman he’s been dating but not quite his girlfriend” terrified you. 
The last thing you wanted was for Sarah to dislike you, because you couldn’t bear the thought of the one person in Joel’s life who’s opinion mattered most to him not being very fond of you. 
Joel said she’d been okay with him dating and only wanted to see him happy, but wasn’t it too soon? The last thing you wanted was to wedge yourself between the father-daughter duo. 
Then again, your feelings for Joel had hit you full-force, and you were in it with him—for him. You’d cried to your sister over the phone about being scared of feeling things too fast, but she reassured you: if you know, you know. 
Nobody has ever made you feel the way Joel makes you feel. Your thoughts may’ve been repetitive with what you felt, but that’s how you knew you were so sure about him. He was a breath of fresh air in a place full of smoke (no pun intended). 
You were just worried what Sarah would think. Some might think it’s ridiculous to let a fourteen-year-old’s opinion matter so much in this circumstance, but that girl was Joel’s whole world. Her opinion of you mattered and could quite literally make or break your relationship with Joel. 
You’d be devastated if it didn’t work out. 
You nervously tapped on the steering wheel as you stopped at the last stop sign before turning onto Joel’s street. 
The quaint neighborhood just outside of the city was chalk-full of cookie cutter homes, looking like it belonged in a friendly neighborhood magazine. 
Several cars were parked in front of his house, but he’d texted you to park in his driveway beside his truck. It was sweet that he saved that spot for you. Another truck was parked in the driveway as well, and you assumed by default that it was Tommy’s. 
You grabbed the tray of cookies out of the passenger seat after you’d gotten out and smoothed your sundress to straighten it out. Joel said everyone at the firehouse loved your cookies, especially him and Tommy, so you made them as a surprise to bring for a dessert option today. 
Nerves coursed through your veins as you made your way up the front steps of his porch, ringing the doorbell. The chime went off in the house with a muffled “I’ll get it!” coming from the other side of the door. 
A few seconds later, the door opened and you were met with a smiling Tommy. 
“Hey there sweetheart, c’mon in.” He stepped aside and you thanked him as you entered the house. It was your first time over, so you took a second to take in your surroundings. 
Many family photos clung neatly to the walls, the leather couches in the living room adorned with quilted blankets, an array of DVD’s scattered around the entertainment center, a well-worn but gorgeous coffee table that sat atop the huge area rug, and the mantle above the fireplace full of trinkets from past trips and a few of Sarah’s soccer trophies. 
You smiled as you took in the scene before you, really admiring how cozy the home looked. It looked lived in and well loved, and it was all very much Joel. Simple, yet homey and functional. 
“Ooh, are those the same cookies you made for us back at the firehouse?” Tommy motions to the tray in your hand, bringing you back to present time. 
“They are. Thought I’d surprise you and Joel with these again.” You laugh as Tommy’s eyes light up, leading you to the kitchen. 
“Don’t blame me if these are all gone by the end of the night. You should give your recipe to Sarah. She loves to bake.” He groans as he takes a cookie from the tray, biting into it. 
You have to stifle a laugh at his genuine reaction. You knew your cookies were decent, but not as good as the Miller brothers made them out to be. 
“Speaking of, where’s your counterpart?” You teasingly ask, too shy to go into the backyard and introduce yourself to the array of people chatting and having a good time. 
You didn’t do too well in new settings, so it would take you a little while to warm up. 
“Ah, he’s cookin’ on the grill.” Tommy jerks his head toward the sliding glass door that leads out the backyard, and you follow in his footsteps as you walk up to the main man of the gathering. 
“Oh Jooooeeellll,” Tommy calls out with you in tow, “Found your girlfriend for ya.” He teases, and your heart skips a beat at that. You’re just dating the man. It wasn’t anything official yet, and somehow it just seemed so fitting. 
Joel didn’t correct Tommy either, which you took note of as his gaze averted to yours. A smile immediately spread onto his lips and he pulled you into a hug, kissing your forehead. You took a second to study the contrast of his tan skin against the white linen shirt he was wearing with the first few buttons undone, and the Raybans that sat comfortably on his face. You held in a groan, because fuck he looked so good, once again. Does this man ever look bad? 
“Hey baby.” 
Your face heats at the public display of affection, but it dawned on you that he was never trying to hide you or keep you a mystery like you were doing to him. 
Well, your sister knew about him of course, but everyone else in your family didn’t have the faintest idea. They were too overbearing sometimes, and you wanted to be official with Joel before you even said a word to anyone about him. 
“Hi handsome. I brought some cookies but left them inside. Thought I could surprise you again with them.” You grin at him, and he smiles as he pulls you into his side. 
“I’m gonna let you two lovebirds have a moment to yourselves. Gonna go find my lady and introduce you to her.” Tommy pretends to tip an invisible cowboy hat and sends a wink your way. You huff a laugh and shake your head at his wit. 
“He always that charismatic?” You question, and Joel laughs. 
“It’s even worse when he’s drunk.” He rolls his eyes, and you bury your smile in his bicep. You wrap your arm around his back as you watch him work the grill, flipping hamburgers and chicken that are seasoned to perfection. 
“‘M glad you could make it today, darlin’. Was startin’ to miss ya real bad. Those twenty four hour shifts kick my ass, I tell ya.” He sighs and gives your body a light, playful shake. 
“Of course, Joel. I missed you too.” You gave his shoulder a kiss before Tommy called your name to avert your attention to him. Your eyes flit to the woman he has his arm wrapped around, and your eyes widen in shock. 
“This is my girl–”
“Maria?” You interrupt Tommy, and her smile spreads wide. 
“Oh my god! Hey you! How long has it been?” She’s laughing as you two embrace each other while the Miller brothers give each other a confused glance. 
“Four years I think? How are you?” You grin, separating from her, holding onto her forearms. 
“Wow I can’t believe it’s been that long. I’m great! Just dealing with this guy over here,” She juts her chin over to Tommy, and his eyes flicker between you two. 
“Sooo you two know each other?” He asks, and you both laugh in unison. 
“We used to work together at the same company. Our cubicles were across from each other.” Maria explains, and you nod along. 
“Well I’ll be damned. Small world!” Tommy grins, patting Joel on the back harshly. Joel glares at his brother and rolls his eyes, turning back to the grill to take the food off and place it into the foil pans next to him. 
“Dad, is the food done yet? You hear a voice call, and you stiffen up immediately. Maria notices your change in demeanor and gives your arm a squeeze of reassurance, which you exchange for a weak smile. 
A curly-haired girl with bright green eyes comes into view. He turns to look at her and nods, motioning to the foil pans. 
“Lemme fix you up a plate. But first, I want you to meet someone.” He says, and he holds his hand out to you. Maria releases your arm so you can step forward and grab Joel’s hand, and Sarah’s bright green eyes meet your gaze. 
“This is the woman I’ve been datin’. Darlin’, this is my daughter Sarah.” 
You extend your hand to her with a sincere smile, hoping she didn’t pick up on your nerves. 
“Ah, so you’re the woman my dad can’t stop talking about!” She laughs, flashing you her gorgeous smile. 
“Oh really?” You quirk an eyebrow up and look at Joel, nudging him playfully. 
He raises his hands in defense, “Guilty as charged.” You huff a laugh at Joel and shift your gaze back to Sarah. 
“It’s nice to meet you. I’ve heard so much about you as well.” 
“Do you mind if I steal her for a second, dad?” Sarah asks, and you can’t help but feel extremely anxious. You genuinely don’t think a fourteen year old has ever made you so frazzled with nerves like this before. 
You follow her to the lounge chairs by the pool, taking a seat across the one she sat in. 
She slaps her thighs with her hands, a small smile evading her lips. 
“So,” She starts, seemingly collecting her thoughts. “This isn’t some ‘what are your intentions with my dad’ intervention, I promise. But, like, I really hope you’re serious about him.” She looks at you with apprehension in her eyes, and you’re a bit taken aback by her words. 
You could’ve guessed this was coming. Judging from what Joel has told you about their relationship, it was only fitting that she’d be so protective of him.
“I’ve seen him get hurt before. Not just by what my mother did, but with other women, too. I honestly think you’re the first woman who didn’t skip out on him after finding out he has a kid.” 
“That would never make me run. Your bond with your father is something that’s so strong, and I would never want to come between that. I can promise you that your dad has a better chance at breaking my heart than I do breaking his.” 
“He won’t. He’s a good man and he deserves someone kindhearted like you. I can tell you are. I’m glad you two found each other. I haven’t seen him this happy and relaxed in… a long time.” Sarah laughs, and you can’t help but smile at her admission.
“I pinky promise I’ll treat him great. He’s a real special guy, and I like him a lot.” You hold your pinky out to her, and with a beaming smile, she hooks her pinky with yours and gives it a little shake. 
“I know. It’s just nice to finally see him getting his feelings reciprocated back to him. Most women only romanticize the uniform he wears and not the person he actually is.” 
“Well, I gotta say, they all definitely missed out on an amazing man.” And part of you was thankful for that, which is something you didn’t want to admit aloud. 
Because if it weren’t for those women in his past that didn’t work out with him, you would’ve never had a chance with him. You glance over at Joel, and he was chatting with some other guests. You couldn’t help admire him and his calm, happy demeanor. 
As if he senses you looking, he turns his head in your direction to meet your gaze and winks. You offer him a soft smile before turning back to Sarah. 
“They are, but something tells me you’re here to stay. Not saying that to like, I don’t know, scare you off or anything, but you and him really do make a nice couple.” 
“Actually,” You huff a laugh and glance over at him once more, “He hasn’t asked me to be official or anything yet. I am here for the long haul, though, and I want you to know that I respect you and your relationship with your dad. I wouldn’t ever want to overstep any boundaries.” 
Sarah groans and huffs, rolling her eyes as she looks over at Joel. “This man, I swear. Want me to yell at him for you?” The mischievous glint in her eye tells you she would actually do so. 
You shake your head with a laugh, and she puts her hand on your shoulder as she leans forward. 
“Also, you don’t need to worry about overstepping. It’s… nice having someone else around. I appreciate you saying you respect our relationship, though. Dad was always apprehensive about bringing women over because my opinion means so much to him. You’ve got my approval in the bag, though.” 
“I appreciate that, Sarah. I’m sorry if meeting me was too soon or awkward for you. I wasn’t expecting to exchange pleasantries today.” She grins and waves her hand between your bodies at your words. 
“Nonsense. I’ve been pretty excited to meet you, seeing as you have my dad crushing like a teenage boy again. I just want him to be happy, and I know he is with you.” She throws her arm over your shoulders, and you immediately reciprocate the hug. 
Admitting to Sarah that you were in this for the long haul even shocked you. It’s not that you didn’t want to be, but your love life in the past hasn’t exactly been to your liking. Joel is different, though, and seeing that he has people in his corner who love and care about him tells you that they’d go to great lengths to protect him. 
It was crystal clear that both of you wanted whatever was going on between you two. You were apprehensive to put your all into it. 
You’ve been known to pull back when things got serious. It was a defense mechanism to protect your heart and peace. 
You knew you were falling, but the million dollar question still remained: would Joel catch you? 
You were pulled out of your thoughts when Sarah separated herself from you. 
“I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.” She says, and she coaxes you to follow her back to the grill where Joel and Tommy stood. 
“Everythin’ good?” Joel asks, slinging his arm around your shoulder. You nod and offer him a smile. 
You were about to go after you plated your food, but Joel shook his head and gently pulled you back to him. 
“Uh uh, where you goin’?” He has a goofy grin on his lips as he pulls you in, giving you a kiss. You can’t help but laugh against his lips and gently push him away. 
“There’s people here, Joel!” You playfully tsk, and he squints his eyes. 
“What, I can’t kiss my girl?” 
My girl. The phrase made butterflies swirl in your stomach and heat to rise to your face. 
“Never said that, but technically, I’m not your girl yet.” You quirk an eyebrow at him. 
Tommy laughs and nudges Joel, “Damn brother, you haven’t asked her to be official yet? Hell’s wrong with ya? Hop to it!” 
“Coming from someone who didn’t settle down until like a year ago. Shut up you little shit.” Joel huffs, crossing his arms over his chest. 
“Was watin’ for the right one! Then this beauty changed my life in the best way possible and put me in my place,” Tommy pulls Maria into his side, kissing her cheek. She rolls her eyes and nudges him playfully, walking back into the house before Tommy points at you. “‘N this missy right here is gonna do the exact same for ya. Don’t be ‘fraid to put him in his place, sweetheart, he needs it.” Tommy howls with laughter as Joel glares at him.
“So fuckin’ dramatic.” Joel mumbles under his breath.
“So what, you don’t want me to put you in your place?” You’re enjoying seeing him squirm a little as your hand traces circles over the white linen that clings to his back. 
“Nah, it ain’t that. You can put me in my place anytime, baby.” He winks, and you immediately pick up on the innuendo behind his voice. 
“You’re fighting with fire, Mr. Miller.” You murmur to him, and his hand moves down to your ass to give it a subtle, playful squeeze. 
“‘S my job, baby.” 
“Don’t think this is one you can put out.” You wink at him before walking away to join Maria in the house.
“Okay, you have to tell me everything,” Maria situates herself on the couch with a glass of wine. You sit down next to her and tuck your legs under yourself, smoothing your dress out before leaning your head on your fist. “How in the world did you and Joel become a thing? What happened to that one guy that you used to tell me about?” 
You laugh at her enthusiasm toward your love life, inhaling a deep breath before diving into the story about your shitty ex and all the stupid trust issues he gave you. He really did a number on you, which is why you were so content with being single and thriving. You told Maria that you kept your guard up to protect yourself and your heart, because the last thing you wanted was to give your all to someone once again, only to be burned. Maria put her hand on your knee as a reassuring smile spread across her lips. 
“Honey, I can promise you that that man standing out there has it bad for you. Doesn’t matter how long you’ve been seeing each other. I can see it in the way he looks at you,” Your gaze trails out to the backyard as Joel sips on a beer, talking with Tommy and a few others who you presume are the neighbors before Maria’s voice pulls your attention back to her, “Joel is a good man, and despite the way you both have been hurt in the past, you still both found each other and gave this,” She waves her hands to gesture between you and him, “A chance. Lord knows that man could use a good woman like you in his life.” 
You felt the sting behind your eyes immediately. Maria’s words were nothing short of assuring, and she smiles as you wipe your tears with a small laugh. 
“Baby, just because you finally got the flame on your candle to burn bright again, doesn’t mean he’s going to dim yours. His is finally strong on its own, too. I know that you’re so independent and you’ve been used to it for some time now, but let his flame make yours even stronger. You can be stronger together.” 
And you knew she was right. The clarity blindsided you, but you got your answer: Joel would one hundred percent, undoubtedly catch you. 
-
A few hours later, the sun had started to set and the neighbors went back to their respective homes, leaving you, Maria, Tommy, Joel and Sarah left. You and Maria insisted you help clean up even though Joel and Tommy both told you it wasn’t necessary. You both waved them off and got everything put away and washed in less than an hour. 
Maria refilled her glass of wine as you poured yourself one and both went to settle back onto the couch, Joel and Tommy in tow. Sarah came running down the stairs and up to Joel, a pleading look strewn across her features. 
“Kelly invited me over to a night swim and slumber party. Can I go? Please?” She had a hopeful look as she clasped her hands together to shake them, silently begging Joel to say yes. 
“I thought she was sick?” He asked, running his hands over the stubble on his chin. 
“No dad, Sasha is the one that’s sick.” 
You tried to stifle a laugh at her ‘duh’ tone, so you just bit your lip and stared at him. He sighed and looked at you, his demeanor changing in the slightest. 
“Sure, but please check in with me every few hours or so. Do I need to drop you off?” He asks, resting his beer bottle on his thigh. 
“Thank you!” She throws her arms around him, and he grunts as he returns the hug. “No, Kelly’s mom offered to pick me up. She can drop me back off tomorrow, too.” She says, and before Joel can get another word in, she rushes back upstairs. 
Joel sighs as he leans back into the couch, pinching the bridge of his nose. 
“Teenagers.” He grumbles, taking a swig of his beer. You pat his thigh and lean into him, giving him a smile. 
“Well now that it’s just goin’ to be adults, why don’t we get the real party started,” Tommy wiggles his brows, and all three of you look at him in confusion. “‘S a joke, people. Sheesh. How ‘bout some music, though.” He connects his phone to the speaker sitting on one of the shelves, playing a mix of late 90’s and country music. 
Joel finds himself leaning into you as one of his hands slips below the hem of your dress, drawing circles into the skin of your thigh. His touch sends a shiver down your spine and he looks at you with a quirked brow, clearly pleased with your reaction to his touch. 
You got turned on so easily now. It wasn’t fair. Just one look alone from the older Miller brother could have your panties around your ankles in milliseconds, and you truly weren’t above begging him to touch you. 
The smug smirk on his face told you he knew it, too, but you both agreed to take things slow. You couldn’t even remember why you agreed to such a thing, because the tension between you two had been through the roof since your date at the fair. You truly didn’t know how much self restraint you had. 
Maria’s laugh had ripped through your thoughts, earning your undivided attention. 
“No way. I don’t believe you.” She says, laughing at Tommy. 
“‘S true! Joel and I are a couple ‘a Austin’s finest line dancers.” Tommy shrugs, looking over at Joel. 
“Those days are long over, brother.” Joel groans, leaning his head back onto the couch. 
“Bullshit. Betcha still know how to dance to Brooks & Dunn.” 
“Even if I did—”
“C’mon cowboy, show us what you got.” You tease, and Joel shakes his head. 
“Mm mm. Won’t do it unless you ladies do it with us.” He negotiates, and your eyes flit to Maria who smiles upside down and shrugs her shoulders.
“Wouldn’t hurt to learn.” She says, and you nod in agreement. 
“It’s settled then.” Tommy slaps his thighs, standing up and offering his hand to Maria. Tommy tosses Joel his Stetson off of the coat rack which Joel catches with ease, putting it onto his head as he grins at you, offering his hand to help you stand up. 
“Hey dad! Kelly’s mom is here– oh god, are you and Uncle Tommy line dancing again?” She groans, and Joel holds his hands up in defense. 
“Uncle Tommy coaxed me into it and these lovely ladies here wanna learn. Not my fault.” 
Sarah rolls her eyes and looks between you and Maria. “Good luck with these two knuckleheads. It was nice to meet you!” She says as she heads for the door. 
“You too!” You call back. 
“Text me when you get there, please.” Joel calls out to her, and she says ‘kay!’ before the front door shuts behind her. Tommy plays the familiar tune of Boot Scootin’ Boogie, and Joel stands next to him before they start to dance in sync. They both hold on to the front of the waistbands of their pants where their belts would presumably be as their footwork syncs up perfectly. 
You and Maria watch in awe as they move together effortlessly, mentally noting the moves they’re repeating. Maria nudges you and you look at her with a shit-eating grin on your face. 
“Girl, are you seeing this? Got damn near ten degrees hotter in here just watching my man dance.” 
“Tell me about it. If Joel and I weren’t taking it slow, I’d probably jump his bones right now.” 
“More power to you. I couldn’t do that even if I tried my damndest.” 
“Trust me, it’s hard. Especially when he looks like… that.” You stare at Joel as he lets the familiar movements flow through his bones, dancing on beat to the upbeat song. He looks at you and shoots you a wink, making you bite your lip to hide your smile. 
“C’mon ladies.” Tommy waves you both over, and you both join in with them. It takes a couple of tries to sync up with Joel, but you’re eventually moving with him. He takes your hand and spins you, pulling you into him as he presses you flush against his chest. 
You smirk at him and pluck his Stetson off of his head, putting it onto yours. Joel moves his hand to the small of your back, causing you to practically grind into him while you dance. You bite your lip and bat your lashes as you can feel the tension in Joel’s body that desperately needs relief. He shakes his head with a chuckle, leaning in as his lips brush your ear. 
“Ever heard of the cowboy hat rule, baby?” His voice is raspy and low. He noses at your jawline before leaving a kiss below your ear, pulling his face back into your view. 
You shake your head no, and as the song ends, he gives Tommy a look before intertwining your hand with his to lead you upstairs. 
“Joel—” You start, but as soon as you step into his bedroom, he closes the door and locks it. He cages you in between both of his strong arms, hands resting on either side of your head as he pops his knee out. It’s dangerously close to your aching cunt, and if you moved forward just a bit, you could easily grind yourself onto him. 
The thought was tempting but your mind went blank, the close proximity between you both making your head spin. 
“The cowboy hat rule,” He starts, leaning down to kiss your neck, “Is when a lady takes a man’s cowboy hat off of his head n’ puts it on herself. Means that the lady wants to be with the man and essentially wants to do more with him.” 
“M-more?” Your breath catches in your throat as his hot tongue glides over the warmth of your neck. You’re beginning to pant harder, hands twitching at your sides, aching to touch him. 
“Mhm.” He slots his thigh between your legs, and you can’t help the soft moan that bubbles in your throat at the delicious friction. 
“Had a whole romantic thing planned in my head on how to ask you to be my girl, but fuck baby, I can’t wait no more. I know it ain’t been long, but I really want you to be mine. ‘N I sure would love to be your man.” 
Your brain starts to function a little better, so you bring your hands up to cup his face. You can’t help the grin that spreads on your lips, Joel mirroring you. 
“Don’t need fancy. Just need you, baby. I’d love to be yours, Joel.” 
And he steals a searing kiss from you, arms wrapping around you as he moves you both backwards toward his bed. He takes his hat off of your head before setting it on his dresser, sitting down on his bed as you follow suit and straddle him. His hands hold onto your thighs, teasing you as they move underneath the hemline of your dress. 
His lips separate from yours and he buries his face into your neck, kissing and licking your soft flesh as he grabs a handful of your ass. You can’t help but grind yourself into him like last time, the carnal desire for him shredding through you as your self-restraint dwindles down to nearly nothing. 
“I-I know we said slow, but baby, can I touch you?” He asks, and you fervently nod your head. Your thoughts were so jumbled that you couldn’t be bothered to form a coherent response. Your senses were all-consumed by this man under you—your boyfriend. You smile at the thought before your jaw goes slack when his hand moves your underwear to the side, fingers sliding through your slick folds. 
You bite your lip to stifle the whine that shoots through your chest, heart leaping into your throat. You knew it wouldn’t take much for you to come undone if Joel kept teasing you the way he did. 
“Shit, baby, you’re so fuckin’ wet. This all for me, pretty girl?” He asks, his Southern drawl as thick as honey, darkened eyes meeting yours. 
“Yes.” You cry, rutting your hips against his fingers.
“Can I?” He asks, prodding the tip of his fingers at your entrance. You nod once again, gripping onto his shoulders as you begin to leave kisses across his neck and collarbone. He slides a finger down to the knuckle in you effortlessly, and you can’t help but nip at his neck as the sensation courses through your body. 
His one finger alone could reach places yours never could, and it made you dizzy. He slipped another finger into you, the stretch stinging in the slightest as you rocked onto his hand. 
“So fuckin’ tight, baby. There you go.” Joel guides you as he begins to move his own fingers, curling them in your warmth. He was hitting that spot that you could barely ever reach, making your eyes roll to the back of your skull as your head fell back, panting his name repeatedly as you felt the coil already tightening in your core. 
“So fuckin’ pretty, hm? My girl is so gorgeous like this, gettin’ herself off on my fingers. Look like a fuckin’ angel, darlin’. Such a good girl.” Joel praises you, and your head snaps up as your eyes meet his. He has a devilish smirk on his lips as you thread your fingers through his curls, smashing your lips to his. He groans into the kiss and picks up the pace of his fingers, your arousal now dripping down to his wrist. He felt your pussy clench around his digits, and he was coaxing you to come undone. 
“That’s it baby. Can feel ya, I know you wanna cum. Give it t’me.” He says, and he swallows your moans in a kiss as the band snaps in your core, body convulsing as you ride out your orgasm. 
You’re breathless as you slump against him, kissing his neck repeatedly as you try and catch your breath. 
He slowly slides his fingers out of you and you moan at the loss of fullness, gaze meeting his once again. He slips his fingers coated in your arousal into his mouth, eyes fluttering shut as he tastes you. He leans in to kiss you, and you can easily taste yourself on his tongue. 
“So fuckin’ sweet. Can I taste all of ya?” He asks, and you don’t even think twice before you nod. He flips you around onto the bed, kneeling onto the floor as he hooks both of his fingers into the waistband of your panties. You’re about to lift your hips so he can slide them off of you when a sharp knock on his door sounds. 
He groans and sits on his haunches, forehead falling onto your thigh. You giggle and sit up, running your hands through his curls. 
“What, Tommy?” Joel calls out, and Tommy laughs on the other side of the door. 
“Jus’ lettin’ ya know Maria ‘n I are gonna stay in the guest bedroom. The hell are you doin’ in there?” 
Joel gets up with a grunt and stalks toward his bedroom door, unlocking it before swinging it open.
“None of your goddamn business. That’s what.” Joel rolls his eyes, and Tommy raises his hands in defense. 
“Shit, my bad!” He looks past Joel and winks at you, and your face heats up immediately. 
“You have five seconds to get out of my face before I beat your ass. Fuckin’ cockblock.” Joel grumbles, glaring at his brother. 
“Fair. Carry on. Wrap it before you tap it!” He turns on his heel and trudges down the stairs, and Joel turns back around to look at you, face beet red. 
“Ignore him.” He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. 
“Noted,” You pat the spot next to you and he rejoins you on the bed. “Now where were we?”
Tumblr media
tags: @ilovepedro ; @nostalxgic ; @endlessthxxghts ; @punkshort ; @pamasaur ; @clawdee ; @pascalpvnk ; @bensonispunk ; @merz-8 ; @darkblue-tennesseee ; @buckyispunk ; @untamedheart81 ; @picketniffler ; @fluffygoffpanda ; @paleidiot ; @typewriter83 ; @lizzie-cakes ; @sawymredfox ; @keylimebeag ; @nandan11 ; @pedropascalsbbg ; @pimosworld ; @yxtkiwiyxt ; @anoverwhelmingdin
Tumblr media
divider by @saradika-graphics
684 notes · View notes
starryjiung · 3 months ago
Text
of pleasure and pain
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
day 16 of piwontober
shower sex / fingering with yoon keeho
NSFW - 18+ MDNI
wc: 1.6k
tags: superhero au, villain!keeho, hero!reader, scars, blood, wounds, weapons, mentions of murder/killing people, fingering, shower sex, pet names, praise, degradation, reader uses she/her pronouns and has a clitoris and vagina, keeho refers to reader as girl
a/n: omg my smut debut look at me go! here is my little thanks to section, because I have to mention @enbyjjunie who has been helping motivate me, brainstorm with me, and beta read!! of course a huge thank you to @sxfterhearts and @kisseobie for managing this whole event, and bringing all of us together. and to all the other amazing writers who are part of the project, I am so excited to be publishing my fic alongside yours ♡
Blood stained the white shower tiles, mixing with the soap bubbles to create intricate shapes as it swirled down the drain. The water rinsed everything off, every bit of blood, sweat, and grime that could be found on your bodies. If anything stuck in the corners, it wasn’t your problem, since this was Keeho’s bathroom. His white tiles, his cleaning headache. Not that you paid it much mind in the moment, with your back up against the cool glass of his shower doors, Keeho’s hands and mouth all over you.
“Fuck, careful where you place your hands,” he mumbled in your ear, shrugging your hand off his shoulder. You glanced over to see a fairly new bruise blossoming right where you had grabbed him, and couldn’t help the smirk that overtook your features.
“Got you good today, didn’t I?” you asked, the amusement short lived as you immediately felt a sharp stabbing pain on your hip in retaliation.
Keeho had pressed down on a fresh slashing wound from your fight earlier, making you yelp and instantly grab onto his arms for support, as your legs wobbled under you. Even though you had ended the night on a high, Keeho having to retreat from the city beaten and bruised, it was not like you had made it out completely unscathed. Keeho was an expert at wielding his signature twin poignard daggers, the many cuts on your body being evidence of this.
“I like it better when you shut up.”
“Someone’s a sore loser,” you mumbled, slowly trailing off as he leaned back into your space, caging you in between his arms against the now steamy glass door. He looked down at you with sharp eyes, and you noticed another bruise forming on his left cheekbone, no doubt the result of you hitting him with the blunt end of your glaive.
You and Keeho were the perfect match, two sides of the same coin in every way possible. The first time you had gone head to head, both of you had been left in awe of the other’s abilities. Not that any of you would ever admit it. Keeho’s teleportation powers and your super speed balanced each other out so well, one was never more than half a step ahead of the other. This resulted in fights purely being decided on combat skills and luck, as you wounded each other at a speed too high for the onlookers to perceive.
You turned your head slightly, pressing your lips firmly to his pretty bruise, making sure he both felt the warmth of the kiss, and was reminded of the earlier impact with your weapon. Your kisses softened as you trailed down the side of his face, your hands leaving his toned upper arms to explore the expanse of his naked upper body.
“I could have killed you today, you really should be nicer to me,” you said in between open mouthed kisses at his jawline.
“Oh yes, imagine those headlines. “Darling hero of Metro City commits murder on open street!” You can never kill me sweetheart, there would be an outrage,” he replied, eyes closed as you worked down his neck. “And your heart is too soft to do it.”
You decided to ignore his statement, not wanting to agree with him, and instead grabbed his hips to push up against. As soon as your front came in contact with his hard cock, Keeho let out a low groan, one you could feel vibrating in his throat as you had your face buried right in the crook of his neck. Not a second later, Keeho’s arms were back around you, holding you close in order to maintain the friction between your bodies.
As you were grinding against each other, you felt a shiver down your spine, the water on your body slowly drying and giving way to the cold air coming in from below. Before you even had time to adjust, Keeho was already pulling you back under the hot stream coming from the showerhead.
Standing even closer together now, in order for both of you to enjoy the warm water, Keeho rested his forehead against your temple, his face only a breath away as his hands travelled down the sides of your body. His hair was dripping down onto his collarbones, where you saw a paper-thin scar, long healed, but no doubt your doing. Most of the scars littering your body were left by him as well, reminders of every fight, every battle, every night spent together afterwards.
“How come you have never killed me?” you thought out loud.
You felt Keeho’s hands stop, just for half a second, before continuing to glide over your skin, his right pointer finger tracing a newly healed gash along your outer thigh, the skin raised and still pink. His doing.
“I mean, you’ve had the chance several times,” you continued, not satisfied with his silence.
For a few seconds, the sound of water hitting skin and tile was the only thing you could hear in the bathroom. Then you felt Keeho smile against your cheek.
“Yeah well, keeping you alive is way more fun, means I get to do this.”
His hand quickly moved from your leg to in between your bodies, his finger finding your clit and beginning to rub small circles without a moment’s hesitation. You immediately grabbed onto his shoulders for stability, all thoughts of the forming bruise there gone for now. A choked moan got stuck in your throat, which made Keeho giggle.
“Look at you, already struggling to stand and I have barely touched you,” he said, lips right next to your ear as his hand kept moving at the pace he knew you liked. “Wonder what the good people of Metro City would think of their precious hero, if they knew she was whimpering like a slut in my shower.”
“Oh fuck you,” you managed to gasp out, throwing your head back to rest against the wet tile behind you. This got a proper laugh out of Keeho, who now had a much better view of your upper body, taking full advantage of your new position.
“Later, maybe. For now I want you to beg for my fingers, can you do that, angel?” he asked.
You did not want to give him the satisfaction of begging, but the way he was rubbing circles on your clit also felt too good to object. Just then, his fingertips went further down, teasing at your entrance and making you inhale sharply.
You were dripping wet, more than one could expect you to be after such a short amount of time with Keeho’s hands on you. But just as he was to blame for most of the scars on your body, Keeho had also become responsible for the vast majority of your orgasms. He knew exactly what to do to have you moaning and begging for him, and in that moment you felt every ounce of pride and composure leave your body. You knew the pleasure he would reward you with was worth so much more.
“Please-” you started your sentence, cutting yourself off with a high pitched whine as Keeho’s fingers moved back up to your clit.
“Sorry could you repeat that sweetheart? I can’t hear you over all that pathetic whimpering,” he said, tilting his head slightly with an amused smile, as he watched you lose yourself to the feeling of his hands on you.
“Please! Please please I want you fingers inside me so bad Keeho, fuck, please,” you cried out, the grip you had on his shoulders becoming so tight, it would surely leave marks for the day after. None of you paid it any mind, however, used to much more permanent reminders of each other.
“That’s my good girl.”
Keeho slipped a single finger inside your wetness, quickly realising that you were turned on enough for him to add a second one immediately. The feeling of him inside of you, slowly stretching your walls, was enough to have you moaning uncontrollably. When he started curling his fingers up towards himself, you could feel how close you were already.
“You’re taking my fingers so well, being so obedient for me. Everyone else sees you fight, but only I know how good you are at giving in to me,” he said, eyes focused on where his fingers were pumping in and out of you.
You could do little more than nod, your breaths coming out as a mix of whines and sharp exhales. Both of you knew you were not going to last much longer.
“I want to feel you cum around my fingers, angel. Cum for me.”
He had barely finished the sentence, before you cried out, your orgasm hitting you as soon as he gave permission. Keeho could feel you clenching around him, coming undone as he continued to curl his fingers inside you. He had seen your face in complete ecstacy like this more times than he could count, and yet he craved it like a drug. The knowledge that he could have this effect on you too, the cuts on your body telling a story so different from the pleasure painting your features in that moment.
As you came down from the high, Keeho slowly removed his fingers again, letting the water rinse away your wetness, just as it had cleaned you off your blood.
Pulling yourself closer to him again, you leaned your face on his shoulder as your breathing returned to normal. Small crescent shaped indentations were left in the reddening bruise, and you found yourself leaving small pecks on each one, as Keeho brought his arms around you under the water.
How were you ever supposed to kill each other, when being alive together felt so good.
235 notes · View notes
yet-another-heathen · 3 months ago
Note
I saw ur really informative post on conditioning and said with whumpers uts about using pain again and again
Any advice about caretakers deconditioning?
[ Referring to this post. ]
The first and most important thing is that the caretaker cannot decondition the whumpee. It's not possible. That progress is entirely internal, and requires a massive amount of introspection, self-motivation, and practice from the whumpee themself. No one else can do it for them.
But what the caretaker can do is be there for them while the whumpee fights toward their own recovery. They can be the stability that whumpee needs in order to work through these massive problems on their own.
Deconditioning is awful. It involves repeated failure, over and over and over, working toward lessening the response. And it is incredibly frustrating, painful, heartbreaking, and at times it feels completely hopeless.
Progress is so non-linear that they can spend months improving and then backslide nearly back to the beginning if they get caught off guard. At times it'll feel like they're stuck at the same point and can't get any further. Like a future where they will be free of it may simply not exist.
At many points, your whumpee is going to feel heartbroken. They're going to spiral into, "Why can't I do this? Why can't I make it stop?" and, "I thought I was past this." and, "Will I ever be able to undo what whumper made me?"
A good caretaker can be there to comfort them when things go wrong. They can hold them while they cry. They can listen to them when they go into a sobbing, breathless rant about how much this hurts. They can make sure that whumpee knows they have someone who doesn't think of them as broken or lesser because of what they've gone through.
Depending on if whumpee feels it would help, they might help them brainstorm a reward system. If there's a situation where they're around other people and the caretaker spots the trigger coming, they can try to redirect conversation away from it before it hits. Preferably without anyone realizing they're doing it for whumpee's sake. When whumpee has just been triggered and wants nothing more than to be alone, the caretaker can make sure their boundaries are respected. To make sure they have somewhere safe to go.
Even more importantly, they can also help by highlighting the moments of whumpee's progress. Pointing out their successes, no matter how small. Pointing out how far they've come. Reminding them that the ups and downs are supposed to happen. That trauma recovery is a rollercoaster, not a straight line.
As a whumpee in that state, it's very easy to feel like they're making no progress. That even when they succeed, the tiny bits of success are hollow, because 'they shouldn't be like this in the first place'. Have your caretaker help them see their own victories. Help them actually see the healing as it grows.
A realistically conditioned whumpee does not need someone to fix them. They need someone to be there for them while they save themselves.
---
This was such a good ask, thank you for sending it my way!
183 notes · View notes
celebtf · 6 months ago
Text
Controling Noah Beck
Tumblr media
Bryce Hall couldn't stand it anymore. Every time he scrolled through TikTok, Noah Beck’s perfect face, charming smile, and millions of adoring fans haunted him. Bryce was no slouch in the popularity department, but Noah’s meteoric rise seemed to eclipse his every move. Fueled by jealousy and frustration, Bryce concocted a wild revenge plan that would change both their lives forever. Late one night, Bryce found himself in a corner of the internet filled with dark, obscure spells. One spell, in particular, caught his eye—an incantation for swapping bodies. "This is it," Bryce muttered to himself, "This will make Noah understand what it’s like to be me."
The next day, Bryce invited Noah over to his place under the pretense of brainstorming new TikTok ideas together. Noah, always friendly and unsuspecting, agreed. As they sat in Bryce's room, Bryce pretended to be engrossed in his phone. "Hey, Noah, check this out," he said, handing Noah his phone.Noah glanced at the screen, confused. "What am I looking at?"Bryce didn't answer. Instead, he whispered the incantation under his breath. Suddenly, a blinding light enveloped them both.
Bryce woke up first after the blinding light had hit their eyes, Bryce now saw Noah’s hands where his own used to be. His plan had worked. He was now in Noah Beck’s body. Bryce now started to flex his new body, dragged his new big hands over the new six pack, feeling the hard muscles. His new hands traveled up his neck and felt his new Jaw and felt the light stubble. He cracked a smile from his new face.
Tumblr media
Noah had woken up, trapped in now Bryce’s body, looking around, didn't regognize his hands, started to touch and feel his face, felt the fresh cleaned shaved face and a softer jaw.
Tumblr media
"Bryce, what did you do?" he demanded, his voice shaking.Bryce, reveling in his new identity, smirked. "I just leveled the playing field. Now, you get to see what it’s like to be me for a while."
The new Noah took out a piece of paper from his pants and started chanting, he saw his old body freeze and the eyes on the new Bryce closed, he went up to Bryce and whispered in his ears
" You will forever forget ever being Noah, you have always been Bryce Hall, and everytime I snap my finger you will be under my control, now when I snap my fingers you will make up and your old life will be forgotten"
* Snaps *
" Oh hey Noah, did I forgot we were hanging out today ? " the new Bryce asked, the new Noah cracked a smile again " Noo I was just picking up somethings i left here before my meeting with IPHIS ( Noah’s clothing brand ) "
* Snaps *
The new Noah went over to Bryce " I want you to put on the white Jockstrap, it's hidden under the pillow on the bed. When I get back, you and me will have some fun "
The new Bryce still under the new Noah's control went up staires, and the new Noah, well, he could feel a tent forming in his new pants, he grabbed his bulge and laughed, went out to his car and drove away to his meeting, dreaming of what would happend later.
Tumblr media
337 notes · View notes
cinnbar-bun · 6 months ago
Note
the jotaro munchies have HIT…. can i please request a pt.4 jotaro and some good domestic family fluff w smolyne…. i am so…. soft for her……
A/n: Okay so I'm going to cheat and combine like... the 4-5 requests I got of 4taro and Smolyne into one!!!
Tumblr media
Domestic Family Fun Time (ft. Smolyne)
Summary: After recognizing he needs to be at home more, Jotaro is tasked with joining in on some of the activities you and Jolyne often partake in together!
Today's activities... slaying an evil monster and doing makeup.
Rating: SFW- pure fluff and comedy!
Word Count: ~1.4k
Notes: Reader is GN! but they do know/use makeup. Never specified if Jolyne is your biological/step daughter, and no mentions of Jolyne's mom- so feel free to imagine whatever you want! I imagine Jolyne as about ~5-6 here.
Taglist (if you'd like to be added, please fill out the form in the pinned or message me!): @gingernut1314 @adeadcreator @child-ofdust @starr-l1ghtt
Jotaro does his best to rectify some of his absence in the house since Jolyne was a newborn. He’s more present now and tries to support you and his daughter. 
Still, he’s the same stoic man, so don’t expect him to be so different now that he’s at home. He’ll be taking these duties very seriously, keeping an eye on the house, never taking a break, always work and- 
Oh who is he kidding? Even if he tries to look tough, Star Platinum is pretty much always exposing him. Star Platinum can’t help but reveal how happy and excited Jotaro gets at home with you two. 
Jotaro isn’t too used to dealing with Jolyne as she gets older, in the sense that she is becoming more active and starting to formulate her own thoughts. Still, he tries his best to work with his hyperactive daughter. 
Jolyne loves playing games and being physical. One of her favorite things to do with you is pretend to have to save you from a big monster while she is a super cool ‘fairy mermaid knight’. Normally, you two would play this by yourselves, but since Jotaro has been focused on being at home, he gets to witness these games. 
At first he stood off to the side and watched as Jolyne jumped off the couch and hit a large pillow covered with a blanket that served as one of the ‘minions’. He noticed how active you were in playing along and expressing with Jolyne, which he took note of for future reference. 
The next few times you played pretend, Jolyne beggggedddd Jotaro to please please please pretty please with a cherry on top play mermaid fairy knight with her. 
He wasn’t sure what his role was supposed to be, so he awkwardly asked, making her brainstorm. 
“Um… hm… well…” 
That is, until you had the brilliant idea to play the ‘evil villain’ and ‘kidnap’ Jotaro (put him inside the foldable pink castle playset). Jolyne was so excited to play along, and you began monologuing like a cheesy villain. 
“Now, young princess, I’ve kidnapped your father and placed him in this indestructible fortress where he can never leave! Mwahaha! Look at how terrified he is!” 
Jotaro just stands there, unsure of what to do, before you nudge his arm and gesture with your face for him to act along. He nods and then in the most bland tone ever- 
“Ah… I am… so scared. Please Jolyne. Save me.” 
You and Jolyne had to look away and stifle your laughter from that awful performance, but quickly got back into character. 
Jotaro uses Star Platinum to help Jolyne jump higher or make her feel like she is gliding for a bit. 
You hammed up the evil act while Jotaro would make the most monotone ‘screams’ as you ‘tortured’ him (tickling him or kissing him all over his face). Jolyne would yell back or gag playfully and then smack you with her fake weapon. 
Of course, you had to give a riveting performance and fake die dramatically before laying on the ground with a silly face, making Jolyne squeal happily and run up to Jotaro. 
“Thank you, Jolyne, for saving me. I’m in your debt.” 
Jolyne gets smug and talks about how of course she was going to save him, she’s his dad, and she’s gonna be a cool hero just like him!
Cue you nearly breaking character to sob and Jotaro mumbling a ‘good grief’ while tilting his hat down to hide the fact he also wants to break down at how cute Jolyne is. 
He makes sure to make her favorite dinner after- pizza rolls.
Another thing she manages to whisk you into doing is makeup. Jolyne loves to try it on and even put it on you. Sure, you end up looking like a brightly colored clown at the end, but it’s quite fun. 
Jolyne loves how colorful and sparkly she looks by the end of it when you finish her makeup. 
One day, though, while Jotaro is watching a documentary on dolphins, Jolyne comes up to him with her makeup kit and asks (read: says) to do his makeup. Jotaro is unsure at the suggestion- he’s never even worn makeup before- and seeing you walk behind her with lime green and purple eyeshadow and red lipstick makes him nearly second guess if he should do it. 
But one look at Jolyne’s face (which is done up in very pretty blue makeup thanks to you) and he sighs and accepts his fate, promptly closing his eyes and pausing the documentary. 
You join in with Jolyne and help her apply the makeup, properly showing where everything should go. 
“Ah, see, we have to apply the foundation here like this-” “Damn, dad, you’re pale!” “Jolyne-!” 
Jotaro knows this is going to be a mess but he’s finding it admittedly hilarious how serious you and Jolyne are taking this. Star Platinum is smiling widely at the both of you and eagerly pointing at different products as you two apply them.
“Hm, which color should we choose, Jolyne?” “Ah… I think dad should get green! No, wait, black!” “Black, huh? A bold choice, dear.” 
Everything goes pretty smoothly until he comes upon perhaps the worst torture known to man. 
Doing his eyelashes and eyeliner. Before you can even apply the eyelash curler to him, he opens his eyes and gasps. Hell no. That is NOT going anywhere near him. 
“Jotaro! It’s safe, I promise!” “The fact you need to clarify that it’s ‘safe’ tells me it isn’t.” “Stop being a baby and just close your eyes.” 
He relents after a bit of arguing, only to feel his heart stop when you bring the eyeliner out. 
“You are not putting a pencil in my eyes.” “It’s not in your eyes, it’s around-” “No.” 
Jotaro swears this is supposed to actually be a torture device. There’s no way that people around the world willingly put this stuff on. He cannot keep looking up without blinking a million times as you try to put the eyeliner on. 
“Stay still!” “Don’t put a pencil in my eyes then!” 
Jotaro honestly would rather fight Dio again than bother putting on eyeliner again. 
Finally, you finish and he releases the breath he held in… until you bring out mascara. 
Kill him. Please. This man is so damn twitchy with it and ends up getting the mascara around his eyelids. 
“You messed it up, dad!” “Sorry, Jolyne. Good grief, the things you two make me do.” 
After all that pain, Jolyne volunteers to do his lips. She grabs one of her lip balms and once Jotaro tastes it, he grimaces and gags. 
“What is that?!” “Coca-Cola! The Fanta one tastes the best, but you can’t have it because it’s my favorite.” 
Finally, it’s time for him to see the results of you and Jolyne’s silly game. 
“Wow… green lipstick… I didn’t even know they made that…” “Right? So what do you think, dad?” 
“I think I look like a zombie…” 
You laugh and press a kiss to Jotaro’s cheek. “A very handsome zombie.” 
He sighs and shakes his head before grabbing the two of you to pull you into a hug. 
“Thank you. Now how do I take this off of me?” 
Jolyne screams that he can’t because he looks so cute and she needs to commemorate it. She runs to her room and gets the old digital camera he got her then demanding the two of you pose in your ‘beautiful’ makeup. 
“Come on! Say cheese!” 
The three of you have a small photoshoot with it, which you ended up having printed at the store later. The photo with you smiling and hugging Jotaro while he has a tiny smile is proudly displayed in the house. In her teens, years later, Jolyne gets embarrassed by it and often hides it when her friends are over, asking you throw it out or something. She still secretly loves the memories of it so she wouldn’t actually want you to do that. 
Jotaro still has some ways to go when it comes to playing and taking care of Jolyne, but he’s slowly getting there. He’s happy he chose to make more of an effort and that you gave him another chance to prove himself. He can’t imagine another life than the one he has now. 
And… he can’t imagine feeling safer and more content than he is now, especially seeing you and Jolyne laughing over the photos you all just took.
238 notes · View notes
zeroeightzeroone · 9 months ago
Note
Hiyaa,
I have a request?
Producer!Bang chan x reader
Established relationship
Angst/comfort
Bang chan is in a bad mood so when he's at the studio he shouts at a co-worker he's close to/ 3racha member.
The co-worker/3racha member leaves and bumps into reader (who was already on the way to the studio? Because they haven't spent time together in a while?) and like hints at chan's bad mood.
Reader enters studio and chan starts to get mad but like reader is like "can I sit on your lap?" and he's like ❔ and she's like "you can continue working, can I sit on your lap?" and he's like "... Yeah?". Then it's fluff fluff fluff because fluff is the best 💯💯🚫🧢. Like a lot of fluff.
Oh also can you work in the reader saying something along the lines of "I get your frustrated but can you please not speak to me like that?" 🥺
And like chan gets more at peace/ relaxed/ less frustrated and apologies to coworker/ member and yeah and they all live happily ever after
creative differences - bang chan
genre: hurt/comfort, fluff/soft (eventually)
pairings: idol/producer!bang chan x fem!reader
warnings: chan is snappy, use of profanity
notes: thank you so much for your request <3 i hope i did it justice. this may also be the longest fic i've posted on this account with a little over 4.3k words
wc ~4.3 | moodboard
。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ 。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ 。 。・:*:・゚★,。・:
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
since their debut, the company had already set expectations that the boys would have at least two comebacks a year–one in the first half of the year and another in the latter half. if they wanted to have more than two, they could, but two was the absolute least. the first comeback of this year for the boys went off without a hitch, resulting in topping multiple charts and receiving a handful of music show wins. however, the process for this second comeback of the year was already off to a rocky start, and the road ahead only looks winding and increasingly difficult.
the boys of 3racha have been in the studio every day for the past couple of weeks brainstorming and trying to put things together for the upcoming release. but they all seem to be hitting walls, or the ideas clash due to the amount of stress and pressures looming over their heads. so many people are counting on them–the members, producers, choreographers, and the jyp entertainment team, stay. and as the days in the studio pass, with the boys not agreeing on songs, arrangements, mixing, and more, the weight on their shoulders increases as well.
bang chan, the leader of stray kids and 3racha, felt the pressures even more so than changbin and han did.
currently, the three boys find themselves in chan's room inside the jyp entertainment building; chan is seated on the rolling chair in front of the multiple screens and mixing boards, while changbin and han are seated on either end of the couch. the three of them with their phones, laptops and notebooks opened up as they continue to brainstorm and discuss. but much like weeks prior, the progress isn't progressing, the progress is lacking or non-existent.
letting a deep sigh slip past his lips, han's eyebrows furrow in frustration as he scratches over old bullet points and writes new ones in his notebook, looking for ideas that could work. changbin is scrolling through his notes app and audio recording app, intermittently bringing the speakers at the bottom of his phone closer to his ear to hear the audio better as it's turned down to not disturb the other two, changbin tapping his fingers on his knee as he listens with his lip pursed in a tight line. chan is doing a mix of what the two are doing; writing and scratching out old and new ideas in his notebook, scrolling through his notes and audio recording apps to find something that they could work with, as well as filing through the production hardware on the system to find any drafts that could also be used to at the least, spark some inspiration.
at one point, chan feels like he's going to tug his hair out by the roots as he runs his fingers through his locks haphazardly. he's reaching the end of his patience; they've been working for weeks, and they can't even find a starting place for the comeback–he feels as if all the old material he finds in the apps aren't good enough, that they won't exceed the expectations or hype of the last comeback, that it won't even reach those expectations. it's frustrating chan to no end as he feels like he's reaching a dead end.
with a sigh, chan turns in his chair to discuss with han and changbin who are on the couch. when changbin notices this, he glances at han from the corner of his eye, surveys the atmosphere, and runs a frustrated hand through his hair.
"we need to figure something out," chan splutters out, his mind quite frantic, "we have to have some ideas–at least something?"
he looks between changbin and han on the couch, their faces look just as discontented and their minds are frantic but blank at the same time–mirroring chan's own face and mind. chan shuts his eyes in an attempt to calm down his bubbling emotions as he leans back into his chair.
"we could look through the demos again?" han throws a suggestion onto the table.
"which ones?" changbin questions.
han shrugs while at the same time he says, "all of them?"
"why would we look through demos we already vetoed?" chan scoffs, "that would be a complete waste of time."
"it's just a suggestion," han restates, this time his tone laced with hints of irritation, "maybe one of those vetoed demos could actually work; we just need to rework it."
"this isn't the first time we've gone through the demos in the past couple of weeks," chan reminds, "if one of those demos could actually work, we would've found it on the first or second round of looking."
"what demos are you thinking of specifically?" changbin asks han, who shrugs.
"i don't know, but what harm is there to look again?"
chan groans in agitation, not understanding why han is so adamant about looking through the demos again: "this would probably be the fourth time–why waste our time with a fifth? we want to make progress, looking for a fifth time is a complete waste of time."
the older boy's tone is sharp, prompting an eye roll from the youngest in the room, his arms going up in protest: " hey. it was just a suggestion–at least something to get the ball rolling." he reiterates chan's words from the beginning of the conversation.
"how is doing something that hasn't worked the past four times for a fifth going to work? if it didn't work a majority, if not, all the past times–it's not going to work," the tension in the room continues to build.
"wouldn't it be better to start from scratch instead of looking through ideas that we already decided weren't working?" changbin chimes in.
at this, han starts to feel like the two older boys are ganging up against him, and he defends himself quickly, "once again, it was just a suggestion. i don't see either of you suggesting anything."
changbin scoffs, "did I not just suggest starting from scratch instead of looking through rejected ideas?"
han turns his head to face changbin on the other end of the couch, "haven't we also been trying to start from scratch these past couple of weeks? that also hasn't been working–if it did, we wouldn't be having this conversation!"
"how are we supposed to start from scratch if we have no ideas?" chan asks in a matter-of-fact tone.
"if we look through the old demos, put some together or play around, then maybe we can find ideas," han speaks slowly as if he's trying to enunciate his point to drill it into the other two's heads, "it's better than sitting at our notebooks and laptops and writing down, absolutely nothing."
han's method of slowing down and enunciating seems to have gone through changbin's head as he begins to see han's point. if they can't conjure something up from nothing, they might as well try to conjure something up from their old demos or many recordings of melodies that have come to mind in the past. putting things together could trigger some inspiration.
"no, i think han has a point here," changbin states, "if we have no foundation or starting point, we can't build anything on top of it. at least with the old demos, we can continue to build off of what we have."
a deep breath expels from chan's lips as he listens to both han and changbin bounce words of agreement off each other for this working with old demos plan.
"again," chan says slowly, "if it didn't work the past four times, why would it work now? the odds are not in your favour."
"but there's still a chance it could work," han argues, "if there's a chance, why not take it?"
chan tongues at his cheek, "because we have a deadline. we can't keep grasping at straws that are obviously not working."
"starting from scratch and coming up with absolutely nothing is also not going to help us meet the deadline."
"so you want to create an album of demos we've rejected? you want to release a subpar album?" chan taunts.
"that's not what i'm saying," han shakes his head.
"that's what i'm hearing!"
"look, hyung," changbin steps in, "just listen to us for a second."
"i'm listening," chan snaps, "and i disagree. we have a standard to reach, one to exceed. i'll be damned if we release something below that."
"why the hell would we release something below standard?" changbin scoffs, running his hands through his hair and over his face in exasperation. letting his hands linger on his face as he leans forward, elbows on his knees.
the youngest in the room snaps at chan, "the fuck? is this you saying you lack faith in our producing skills? that we can't rework old demos to produce something that not only hits that standard but exceeds it?"
the sharp change in han's tone and volume alerts changbin, who realizes this conversation–well now it's an argument–is getting out of hand. chan and han are practically at each others throats and they're both too headstrong but stubborn at the same time, neither of them will back down. obviously, avoiding conversation wasn't going to get them anywhere, but at this point, where emotions are high, and egos are even higher, no meaningful or productive conversation regarding the album will be shared. changbin realizes he needs to jump into action to diffuse the situation before it becomes a screaming match between the two heated bandmates.
"i'm saying we have a standard, we have expectations to uphold," chan speaks slowly, his voice deeper as he's practically sneering at han, "one that the company has for us, stay, everyone."
han snarls back, eyes throwing daggers in chan's direction, "i know that. i know that damn fucking well. i'm out here trying to innovate some sort of progress toward this album, progress that we have been severely lacking for the past couple of weeks. other than rejecting our ideas, what the hell have you been doing?" he raises his chin at the older boy in a provoking manner.
"han–" changbin starts but is quickly cut off by chan.
"what the hell have i been doing?" chan spits out the question, han nods, "i've been making sure all our releases since debut continue to surpass these standards–this upcoming album is no different. don't come into my studio questioning what the fuck i've been doing."
"hyung–" changbin tries again to no avail.
"maybe you should leave," chan hisses, and changbin's eyes widen, darting between the two other boys in the studio with fires in their eyes, "and come back when you have suggestions that aren't going to waste my fucking time."
"look, guys. hannie, channie hyung–" changbin is cut off again when han rises to his feet, jaw clenched as he stares down chan in front of him, eyes narrowed.
"fine. i'll leave," he declares, "this is a waste of my time. i'll come back when you've got your head out of your fucking ass and you're open to listening to anyone other than yourself."
chan spins back around in his chair, eyes rolling back in anger as he clenches his fists on the table. behind him, han is quickly packing up his laptop and notebook as changbin gulps, wracking his brain to think of who to attend to right now. when han stomps to the studio door, swinging it open and stomping out into the hall of the company building. changbin is quick to follow after him, leaving everything but his phone, keys and wallet in his pocket the whole time as he follows after han, shutting the door behind them, leaving chan to his own thoughts alone. he chooses to follow the younger boy to try to calm him down and ensure he's safe wherever he plans to run off to.
meanwhile, you're a couple moments away from the elevator reaching the same floor the three boys are on. your hands clasped in front of you as you keep an eye on the digital sign that changes with each floor, rocking back and forth on your heels to pass the time. you haven't seen your boyfriend in quite a while due to your conflicting schedules, work and life getting in the way of a relationship, but you were grateful for those moments in between the chaos where it was just steady love and happiness. you learned to cherish those small moments instead of grovelling over how much time you can't spend with your boyfriend–obviously you get sad once in a while when you're away from him but choose not to dwell on it. thankfully, tonight is one of those nights where you can spend your time in the comfort of your boyfriend's presence. but he has no idea that you were even planning on coming to the company building, he has no idea of this little surprise you've organized.
when the elevator dings, stopping at your floor, you exit quickly but you make your way down the hallway slowly. your head moving from left to right as you read the numbers on each door, ensuring you landed on the correct floor and were going in the right direction. when you hear footsteps and your eyes dart to changbin and han walking down the hall in your direction, a wave of relief washes over you until you catch a glimpse of the concern on changbin's face and the anger on han's. they notice you walking towards them belatedly, almost running into you, but you catch their attention before any collision.
"hey guys," you greet softly, concern written on your features at the sight of the two boys. eyes looking between changbin whose eyes are drooped with worry and han, who you can feel the anger radiating off of, "what's going on?"
they both exchange small greetings with you. given han's current state, his greetings are shorter and more reserved. his mouth shut and jaw clenched again once he's greeted you.
"creative differences," changbin says to which han scoffs, rolling his eyes, "ok well, that's how it started, but long story short, we got into an argument, and hannie walked out."
"we?"
changbin nods, "yeah, hannie, chan hyung and i."
your lips purse in a tight line when the second name rolls off changbin's tongue: "if you don't mind, could you explain what happened?"
not wanting to get into too much detail as changbin doesn't want further rile up the already upset han, he gives you a quick run down of the main points of the argument between the 3racha boys–mainly chan and han. you keep your mouth shut the whole time and nod, listening intently to changbin explain while han stands with his arms crossed over his chest, a prominent pout on his lips and his eyebrows knit together.
"you're on your way to see, channie hyung?" changbin asks for clarification and you nod, "okay, obviously after what i told you, he's in a really bad mood right now so proceed with caution. angry chan is scary chan."
you thank changbin for letting you know what happened from their perspective, bidding short goodbyes to both the boys as han and changbin decide to make their way back to the dorms. han needs some time to unwind and collect his thoughts after the spat with chan. you continue to walk down the hall, turning a corner and finding the room number that felix sent you earlier–103.
you knock on the door softly but hear nothing from the inside; you knock once again and hear nothing. you sigh and decide to turn the knob, letting yourself in.
chan heard the knocks; the first one sparked his annoyance, and the second continued to heighten it. the sound of the door being opened caused him to bark at whoever decided to come in when, through his silence, he clearly didn't grant the permission to.
"what the hell?" he mutters to himself before he barks out, turning in his chair, "complete silence after knocking is not an invitation to come in, fuckin–"
when chan fully turns in his chair to face the direction of the door, the words get caught in his throat at the sight of you. he assumed it might have been changbin, han or a staff member, but seeing you standing there took him by complete shock. you shut the door behind you and give chan a small wave that he reciprocates hesitantly, still trying to let it sink in that you're actually in the room with him and that he isn't hallucinating due to how long it's been since the last time he's seen his girlfriend in person. you move to sit on the couch that was once occupied by the two other 3racha members; now, one side is occupied by changbin's laptop and notebook while you sit on the opposite end. chan turns his chair, following your every move.
when you sit down, take the pillow and place it on your lap, you smile up at chan again, "hi."
"hey baby," chan speaks slowly, "what are you doing here?"
you hum before answering, "well, we haven't been able to see each other in a while cos of our schedules but some time opened up for me today, so i wanted to pay you a surprise visit."
chan feels his heart warm at the gesture, but he's still quite irritated and agitated from the argument with han and changbin. the lack of progress for the upcoming album, along with the plethora of expectations looming over his head and his patience begins to dwindle again.
"that's nice, but i don't really have time for this right now," chan's tone is stern, his voice deep in warning, "i've got so much shit to do for this upcoming album, and nothing is fucking–"
"can I sit on your lap?" you ask, cutting chan off and causing him to furrow his eyebrows together in a mix of confusion and irritation–irritated that you had cut him off but confused about whether he had heard you right.
"what?" he deadpans, blinking at you.
"can I sit on your lap?" you repeat, and now he knows he definitely didn't hear things.
"did you not hear what i said?" chan holds back from snarling at you in frustration. "nothing is done for the album, and i don't have time to take a break."
you nod, hearing his words but adding, "you can continue working. i just want to sit on your lap while you do."
chan opens his mouth to refuse, but his eyes lock with yours–your shiny, beautiful eyes with a perfect array of colours decorating the irises, gazing up at him with a splash of hope in the depths of love in your eyes. that's when his mouth snaps shut again, probably looking like a fish when it opens again, but this time he says:
"yeah? sure."
the bright smile that stretches on your face feels like a reward to chan. you make your way over, placing yourself on his lap while facing him; thankfully, chan's chair is big enough for you to practically straddle him in a comfortable position. you wrap your arms around his shoulders and nuzzle yourself into his neck.
"you can go back to work now," you say, your voice muffled from the pressure of your lips against his skin.
chan can't help the lopsided smile that makes its way to his lips. he also can't help the way his whole body seems to relax with your touch; the longer he feels the warmth radiating off your body onto his, the more he feels the tension in his muscles deteriorating slowly. the feeling of your body pressed against his, his arms outstretched to continue typing or writing in his notebook, feels comforting.
moments pass when chan's room is quiet, and the occasional noise of chan typing on the keyboard, picking up or placing his pencil down to scratch down who knows what in his notebook. at the same time, you're still perched on his lap, your arms comfortably draped around him, and your face nuzzled in the crook of his neck and shoulder.
chan isn't sure if the arguing with han and changbin or if the feeling of you in his arms sparked some ideas to come out of him and onto paper, but he would like to say both. despite the heated atmosphere and half-hearted words thrown around, he doesn't want to feel like that argument was completely unnecessary and a waste of time; instead, he wants to see it as a bump in the road that shows him how he can continue to improve as a friend, producer, bandmate and a person as a whole.
meanwhile, you're thinking about how comfortable you feel in the position your in right now, and how you could probably fall asleep at this moment. sure, maybe your back will hurt when you wake up, but right now, you feel your whole body relax in your boyfriend's arms. a couple moments later, your eyes are half open and you felt yourself falling asleep, but you jump a little in shock when you feel both of chan's hands sprawled on your back. his hands rub your back gently and comfortingly before he circles his arms around your body and pulls you closer. a deep sigh escaping his lips as he holds you, his eyes falling shut for a few seconds. chan turns his head, kissing the side of your head on your hair.
"thank you," he whispers, placing another gentle kiss as his hands rub circles on your back again.
you respond in a small, quiet and slightly sleepy voice, "for what?"
chan shrugs, "for this. being here."
you nod, pausing for a moment before you say, "i ran into changbin and han in the hall."
you feel your boyfriend tense up in your arms. you begin to reciprocate his comforting action as you trace circles on his back with the pads of your thumbs, his muscles relaxing under your gentle caresses. you continue to speak in a soft, timid manner that only chan can hear since your lips are so close to his ear.
"i know you're under a lot of stress and pressure preparing for the album," you begin, "i get that you're frustrated, but can you please not speak to me like that?"
the man feels his heart drop listening to your words. his mind rewinds back to when he heard the door opening, and how his first instinct was to bark and scold whoever came into the studio uninvited. chan remembers how you blinked and gave him a small smile, trying to hide your surprise, but it was evident in how your eyes widened the slightest bit for a split second before returning to normal.
you and chan sit in silence; he's dwelling on your words while you're still tracing circles into his back with your thumbs. chan wants to say that he didn't know you were the one coming into the studio, to use that as a defence, but he knows how weak that is–that regardless of who came into the room, he shouldn't have let his frustrations blow over, flipping out and greeting them by raising his voice. sure, his emotions were high, which is a factor in how he acted earlier, but he can't use that as an excuse to get away with snapping at people who have nothing to do with what he's emotional about.
you feel chan nod, and he says softly, "i'm sorry." you go to say that it's okay, but chan interrupts, "it's not, though. even if i didn't mean to speak to you that way, i still need to figure out how to regulate and control my emotions."
"you're human," you say, "when emotions are high, it's hard to find a way to keep them under control all the time. but the fact that you recognize your mistake–that's a lot more than many people can say."
chan pulls you even closer against him, if it's even possible, "i'll try my best though. i'll speak to you at a normal volume, respectfully and saying sweet things. that's what my girl deserves."
your cheeks heat up at the way chan calls you 'his girl'.
"thank you," chan repeats.
this time, you pull away, sitting up straight to look at chan's face, your eyes meeting his soft ones. his hands rub up and down your sides slowly, a slight smile on his lips. you cock your head in confusion, "for what?"
"you always know the right thing to say," chan moves one of his hands up to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear, keeping his hand on your cheek gently and the pad of his thumb swiping over the skin, "i love you."
you're blushing even harder now, "i love you too."
chan uses the hand on your cheek to guide your face so your lips meet his halfway for a sweet kiss. after quite a while, a smile breaks out on your face at the feeling of his soft pink and plump lips against yours. your hands move to hold either side of his neck, and the two of you spend the next couple of moments sharing tender kisses and giggles in between.
in the midst of all of the kisses, you and chan are gazing down at each other when he brushes your hair away again. this time, he opens his mouth to speak with flushed cheeks, "i'm starting to think han and his suggestions were right; it'll be better to build on something we already have and improve on it than to force ourselves to start from scratch and continue to hit a dead end."
you brush chan's hair out of his forehead, and he continues.
"my head was too far up my ass to consider his suggestion," chan purses his lips together, and his eyes flash with regret as he recalls the words thrown around between him and the younger producer earlier. chan lets himself linger in his head again before voicing his concerns, "do you think they'll forgive me?"
you nod.
"really? you're not just saying that?"
you nod again, and this time, you explain, "as long as you can identify and acknowledge where you went wrong and what you did wrong, and sincerely and genuinely apologize–which i know you feel sincerely and genuinely apologetic for–i believe they'll forgive you."
chan's eyelids flutter quickly as he thinks, nodding as he fully processes your words. still, a wave of nervousness washes over him at the possibility that han and changbin won't forgive him.
"they're your brothers," you snap him out of his thoughts, "brothers fight, but at the end of the day, they still love each other."
main masterlist
210 notes · View notes