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starmocha · 4 months ago

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would you still love me if i was a worm? (and other thought-provoking questions) Sylus/Reader | 2100 words | AO3 In which Sylus answers many meaningful drunken questions at 2 AM. A/N: Why have I been clowning on this man 🗿 lowkey based on this post I made before his release lol

It was rather common for Sylus to be up at 2 AM, since in his particular line of work, businesses were best done in the dead of night when most people would be asleep. It didn’t help that the N109 Zone was shrouded in eternal darkness at all times, so the entire concept of time felt rather meaningless to most citizens.

What truly was uncommon for Sylus was receiving a call from you at this time in the middle of the night when you should be slumbering away like most normal citizens. He stared at his phone screen where “Kitten” was so affectionately featured prominently onscreen along with his favorite photo of you. He swiped his thumb across the screen to answer the curious call. Nothing, however, could have prepared the leader of Onychinus with your desperate plea: “Crow Man, come pick me up, pleasssseeee!”

Sylus raised a brow as he held his cellphone tighter in his hand. “Crow Man?”

“Is this not Ca-Caw Man?”

“…are you drunk, sweetie?”

“Mr. Big Ca-Cawk, please pick me upppp!”

Sylus set his phone down on his desk and leaned back in his seat, already massaging his temple in slow circles. He had lavished you with such sweet pet names, and in your darling little head, you had just affectionately bestowed upon him the nickname…Big Ca-Cawk.

Sylus inhaled sharply.

He knew he let you get away with a lot of mischievous things, but perhaps this might be the one time he needed to put his foot down. He held his phone next to his ear again, hearing you sniffled:

“Caw-Caw, do you not like me anymore?”

Damn. You were good.

Sylus huffed softly, finding your drunken speech pattern rather endearing now. With a soft smile on his face, he spoke low, “Far from the truth, sweetie. Now, give me your address.”

You relayed to him the address of a late-night restaurant you were at in Linkon City.

“Stay safe,” Sylus responded, “I’ll be there in twenty.”

The call ended and Sylus heaved another heavy sigh before he stood up. He walked pass where Mephisto was roosting on his perch, and Sylus mumbled thoughtfully to the mechanical crow, “Maybe I should just assign you to monitor her 24/7 from now on.”

Mephisto tilted his head to the side, clearly confused by his owner’s odd words. He cooed quietly in response, watching as Sylus left.

With no speed limit in the N109 Zone, Sylus breezed through the city on his motorcycle in a matter of less than fifteen minutes. Through Linkon City, the street was mostly vacant, and he managed to avoid many of the cop hiding spots. It took him roughly another ten minutes to finally pulled up to the restaurant you said you were at.

As he parked his motorcycle, he took his helmet off, eyes instantly narrowing in anger when he noticed you were backed into a wall by a couple of sober sleazebags. Sylus started to walk up to you, his temper flaring when he heard your feeble protests:

“No…I don’t like this. Go away...”

“Aww, come on, sweetcheeks, you look like you could use a rest at a motel with us.”

“Yeah, it’d be in bad conscious of us if we leave a cute girl like you hanging around on the street like this—”

Sylus had heard enough. His hand tightened into a fist, and thick, dark tendrils wrapped around the two men’s necks, easily lifting them up and sending them hurtling down the block. When they gotten up, ready to assault their attacker, they were instantly frozen with fear from just a simple sharp glare from Sylus. He merely snapped his fingers and new tendrils shot straight down the block at the two men, the sight enough to send them running away in terror.

How fortunate for them. Sylus had other important things on his mind this particular night, or otherwise, he would have felt no qualms with ridding the world of two lowlifes.

When Sylus turned to look at you, his gaze softened considerably, a look of exasperation settled on his handsome features. He approached you slowly, his voice soft and gentle, “Sweetheart…”

His eyes widened in shock when you flung yourself against him, arms wrapped around his waist tightly. You sniffled softly, “Sy-Sy…”

Sylus regained his composure and he smiled down at your head, his hand rubbing your back soothingly. “So I am Sy-Sy now?”

He waited for you to calm down, speaking gentle, comforting words to ease your fears. When he noticed you appeared calmer, he led you to where he had parked. After handing you a helmet, he made sure your arms were wrapped tightly around his waist again before he took off, heading to your apartment.

Once he had arrived to your apartment building, he led you upstairs to your floor. He watched in amusement as you attempted to open the door, unable to get your thumb aligned correctly with the biometrics.

“Here,” he murmured, grabbing your wrist and guiding your thumb to match up with the small screen.

There was a click.

The door opened.

You stared in absolute awe. “Sy-Sy is so amazing…”

Sylus chuckled as he led you inside. “Sweetie, how much did you drink tonight?”

You shrugged. “It was Tara’s birthday…and it was our 5000th wanderer kill…and it was also pay day…and—”

Sylus immediately cut you off, laughing. “I get it,” he said, leading you to your bathroom to help you wash up, “You had a lot to celebrate today.”

He watched you smiled happily as you splashed some cooling water on your face. He helped you removed your jewelry before leading you to your bedroom. Sylus crossed his arms over his chest as he eyed you up and down in your black bodycon dress.

“Now, while I do appreciate seeing you in this dress,” he said with a teasing lecherous smirk, “I don’t think it’ll be comfortable to wear to bed, right?”

You giggled. “Nope!”

Sylus’ eyes widened, completely unprepared when you decided to shamelessly take the dress off yourself and flung it at a chair in your room. You smiled sweetly at him as you stood there in just your bra and panties.

Sylus covered his face, groaning softly. “This girl…” He took another look at you happily smiling away at him with not a single sober thought in your head. He turned away, mumbling, “Stay put.”

He sighed and walked into your closet, muttering to himself as he searched for some sleepwear for you, “You suck at drinking, sweetheart, and yet you let yourself get this drunk…”

After spending about five minutes of searching for some decent sleepwear, Sylus came back out to find you on the bed laying on your side, half-asleep. Sylus sat down on the edge of the bed next to you. He gently shook your shoulder. “Come on, sweetie, as cute as you look like that, you need to get dressed.”

You mumbled sleepily, and Sylus took it upon himself to help you get dressed in an oversized shirt and some shorts. This task felt rather foreign to him, since he was honestly more used to doing the complete opposite. As if reading his mind, you fell against him giggling again once you were fully dressed. “Are you going to take my bra off, too, Sy-Sy?”

He groaned again, his brain about to explode. “Sweetie, you are testing me.”

You giggled again and batted your eyelashes at him.

He smirked, slipping his hands under your shirt from behind and expertly unhooked your bra, tossing it to the side with your earlier abandoned dress. “It’s a good thing I am such a gentleman who doesn’t like taking advantage of intoxicated women.”

“Sy-Sy is the sweetest,” you agreed solemnly. You leaned up and clumsily kissed him, catching him off-guard for just a few seconds before he chuckled against the kiss, pecking your lips lightly. He pulled away first, amused when he saw your look of disappointment at how quickly the kiss ended.

Sylus pinched your cheek, eliciting a pained yelp that stirred you fully awake. “Next time, you are not allowed to get yourself drunk without me around,” he scolded you firmly, though his facial expression was more gentle than angry.

“But it was pay day…”

One sharp look from Sylus had you clamming up. When he turned away, you let out a soft whine, “Wait…are you leaving me?”

He turned back just in time to see a pout forming on your face. He sighed for what seemed like the umpteenth time that night, giving you a slow shake of his head. He knew he was coddling you too much tonight, but he couldn’t bear to leave you alone in such a disoriented state. “Of course not, sweetie,” he answered with a smile, “I’m just going to turn off the lights.”

Once the lights were out, Sylus made his way back over to the bed. He chuckled in amusement as you scooted to the center, giving the empty space next to you an enthusiastic pat. Sylus climbed into bed, happy when you cuddled up to him.

“Caw-Caw, I have a question…”

“So it’s Caw-Caw again?” he asked bemused, and then muttered more to himself, “I think I’d rather you call me Sy-Sy instead… What is it, sweetie?”

“Would you still love me if I was a worm?”

“Sweetie, I would feed you to Mephisto,” he answered, not missing a single beat.

“Noooo…” you whined at him with tears brimming in your eyes. You weakly pawed at his arm with little fists, pleading, “Don’t feed me to Mephie…”

“Mephie?” he laughed, astonished that now you had taken the liberty of nicknaming his mechanical crow.

“I won’t taste good,” you insisted with a sweet pout.

“Personally, I think you taste divine,” Sylus teased with the double-entendre, but in your drunken state, you didn’t catch the double meaning. You could only sniffle sadly at him. He rubbed your cheek affectionately with the back of his hand, his crimson eyes seemed so bright in the darkness.

“Sy-Sy…”

“Hmm?” Sylus propped himself up on his elbow, his chin cradled in his hand as he peered down at you snuggled up close to him again.

“Where does the light go when you close the fridge door?”

“Drunk you is just full of silly questions, huh?”

You continued, not caring that he didn’t give you an actual answer to your previous inquiry, “Why do we make round pizza, put it in a square box, just to eat it as a triangle?”

Sylus blinked, sighing, feeling at a complete loss for words. “When you are sober, I’ll make sure to look up the answer for you, sweetie.”

“Sy-Sy?”

“What now?”

“Life is soup.”

Sylus raised his brow in complete confusion, not understanding a single damn word out of your mouth now. He didn’t even know how to respond to the odd comment, so he just continued to stare at you, hoping for a follow-up.

“And I am a fork.”

Sylus pulled you into his arms, laying on his back with you on top of him. “Alright, sweetie, it’s time for bed now.”

You giggled, rubbing your face against his soft shirt, inhaling deeply the faint scent of cologne on him. You sighed happily, smelling the familiar comforting, warm and woodsy fragrance on him. “Would you…” You yawned and rubbed your drowsy eyes, “love me if I shrink down to the size of your thumb?”

“Sweetheart, I’ll just have to keep you safe in my pocket.” Sylus brushed the flyaway hair away from your face, his expression tender as he gazed at your sweet, sleepy face resting on top of his chest. Even though he knew by morning, you wouldn’t remember a single thing from this night, Sylus still couldn’t help but voiced his thoughts and feelings aloud.

“I adore you,” he said, hushed, the weight of his words hung heavy in the stillness of the bedroom, “More than you will ever know.”

You yawned again, burrowing deeper into his embrace. “I love you, too, Mr. Big Ca-Cawk.”

Sylus could do nothing but laughed resignedly, his arms wrapped securely around you, holding you close to his body, the soft warmth of you against him was calming. Sylus felt a strange mixture of both happiness and bemusement by your drunk words, knowing your intoxicated state was also your most honest side, revealing to him the depths of your feelings for him. He kissed the top of your head, letting his eyes closed to rest as well, as he murmured, “Sweet dreams, you silly girl.”

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace sylus #love and deepspace fanfiction #lnds fanfics #love and deepspace x reader #sylus x reader #x — fanfics #🥹#sylus will always be big ca-cawk in my heart of hearts #💕

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ragingbookdragon · 11 months ago

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Hanging By A Moment

Bayverse Transformers x Reader Blurbs

Word Count: 940 Warnings: None

Author's Note: I love TF so much. I miss it all lol -Thorne

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

Ironhide:

“This is…different,” she notes as she arrives into the darkened field; the veil of the moon blankets the land in an ivory haze, yet Ironhide’s sleek body is visible from even the edge. It’s remote enough that they don’t have to worry about being seen; she nears him with a curious look on her face. “Ironhide?”

His tailgate lowers and with a surprised expression that quickly gives way to a pleasant smile, she climbs onto the back, kicks her shoes off, and lays down on the makeshift bedding, resting her head on the pillow.

“Did you do this all for me?” she asks. “Aren’t you so sweet underneath all that firepower.”

“Have to treat my best girl, don’t I?” Ironhide teases back. “You’ve been working awfully hard lately. Even I know to take a break once in a while.”

She hums and curls into the blankets, almost feeling like they’re keeping warm and toasty. “No rest for the wicked, Ironhide. The Decepticons won’t wait while I rest.”

He grumbles, deep and low, and she can’t help but laugh. “Then you’ll rest, and I’ll kick ass.”

“Okay, bud,” she jokes, resting her head back on the pillow. “Take care of me while I rest.”

***

Rachet:

“When I said I wanted to spend some time alone with you, Rachet…this isn’t necessarily what I meant.”

His frame rumbles as he slows to a stop on the side of the canyon. “I can turn around, if you’d like?”

“You better not,” she warns and points a finger at the steering wheel. “You promised to take me out to the stars.”

She can hear the smile in his hum as he starts driving again. “When you mentioned you’ve always wanted to see the stars up close, I figured this would be the best I could give you.” He shifts back the roof, and her eyes widen at the expanse of bright stars above her.

“Oh my God,” she breathes, unable to help but stand up in the front seat, rising out of the rooftop. “Rachet, it’s…it’s incredible.”

He slows to a stop at the edge and stills. “It’s almost as incredible as you are. But somehow, their brightness can’t even come close to how beautiful you shine.”

Slipping back into the seat, she reaches forward and gently presses her lips to his steering wheel. “Thank you, Rachet. For doing this for me…for us.”

***

Bumblebee:

It’s almost one AM by the time they make it back into the city. Eerily enough, the roads are almost empty, and Bumblebee has a straight shot back to the facility, but he passes the particular highway that leads to it.

She notices from her sleepy haze in the passenger seat. “Bee? You missed the turn.”

He makes a noise that she recognizes as his answer of “Yes.”

“Where are we going?” she’s not worried in the slightest, knows that Bumblebee wouldn’t ever take her somewhere she could get hurt; she’s still curious though.

“Don’t worry about it,” a voiceover from a TV show filters through and she snorts tiredly.

“Alright, Bee, keep your secrets.” She shifts in his seat and reclines back, unable to help but trace the threading in the console. “You takin’ me home, Bee?”

“Take me home tonight!” he sings, and she smiles, gently shutting her eyes as the streetlights still shine across her face as they pass between shadows.

“I’m happy, Bee,” she murmurs. “You know that? I’m always happy with you.”

He’s silent for a long while and she wonders if maybe he didn’t hear her, but it doesn’t bother her as she curls up in the passenger seat and begins to drift off, only to hear quietly through the speakers, “I’m living for the only thing I know. I’m running and not quite sure where to go. And I don’t know what I’m diving into, just hanging by a moment here with you.”

***

Optimus:

“Sorry about the rain, Optimus,” she murmurs as they take shelter in the rundown warehouse. “I can’t imagine it’s going to let up…we’ll be here for a while.”

She watches as steam begins to flow from his body, fans in his processors blowing until the water is simply droplets here and there.

“That’s handy,” she jokes, and he meets her gaze with a smile.

“While rust isn’t a big a worry to myself as it is Ironhide, I’d rather not take any chances.”

She nods and takes off her jacket, wringing it out. “It’ll be dark soon. We should set up a perimeter.” The echoing of his transformation sounds in the warehouse, and she looks up. “Optimus?” His door opens and closes a few times until she gets the hint to climb in.

As she enters, the cab opens, and she slips further inside. It’s smaller than she imagined, given that outside he’s much larger but she assumes he’s somehow made some room for her. It’s a small bedding, smaller than a door, but enough that she can curl up on it, propping her arm under her head. She’s about to say it’s cold when the fans blow again and fill the cab with a warmth that feels like she wrapped herself in a blanket straight out of the drier.

And he knows it too as he asks, “Comfortable?”

“Mhm,” she murmurs and scoots back until her back is against the wall of his cab; it feels good to have him at her back, safe and secure. “I think I could lie here forever.”

“When there is peace, my spark,” he says. “We will lie forever.”

“Promise?”

“I promise,” and she knows his words ring with truth.

#transformers bayverse #bayverse transformers #bayverse transformers x reader #transformers x reader #ironhide x reader #ironhide #rachet x reader #rachet #bumblebee x reader #bumblebee #optimus x reader #optimus #optimus prime x reader #optimus prime #transformers

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joelmillers-whore · 1 year ago

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Fuck Me Like You Mean It

summary: a miserable time out at a club turns into quite the night when you run into someone you least expected to see.

word count: 4.9k

series or one-shot

warnings: SMUT, explicit 18+, MDNI, no outbreak, dbf!joel x f!reader, dark!joel, spanking, dubious consent at times, voyeurism, exhibitionism i guess, dirty talking, language, joel calling reader a cock slut, slightly creepy joel, unspecified age gap, daddy kink, brat tamer joel, hand job for a second, manhandling, dominant joel, oral (female and male receiving), semi-public sex, bathroom sex, jealousy if you squint. as always, if i missed something, please let me know.

you are responsible for the content that you consume. please read the warnings before continuing with this fic. enjoy babes.

A/N: i am so sorry firstly for teasing you all with snippets of this one-shot and then just not posting it lol, life has been a little chaotic, to say the least and i was just feeling so uninspired to finish it (literally i do this to myself). but so many of you loved the little teaser i posted and i couldn’t just not give ya’ll some delicious dbf!joel. so, here it is.

ALSO, a huge thank you and shoutout to kylee @hellishjoel for reading and beta-ing this for me, i love you and your freakouts were so valid haha. forehead kisses.

main masterlist

The pungent stench of sweat curled around your nose, setting your already overstimulated nerves into hyperdrive. Possessive hands pawed at your hips, urging you back into their body, into their growing stiffness.

Normally, you’d be all for it. The game. Going out each weekend, getting shitfaced with your best friend, entertaining men who you would otherwise have no interest in just to see them work for a moment of your attention.

But not tonight, tonight you’d had enough of it all. The handsy men, the unrhythmic and too-loud music, and just the whole played-out scene really. There wasn’t anything to get excited about anymore, each weekend blurring into the same version of the last, and the one before that.

It was boring and you couldn’t tolerate the lacklustre men around you for much longer. So, twisting out of the weak grip of the twenty-something you had been dancing with all this time, you abandoned them and your friend who reeked of desperation.

She’d hounded you all week to go out to a club, hoping to get laid, vetoing your suggestion to just get drunk and find someone at a bar. Now, you were at a seedy club downtown, getting groped from every angle by mediocre-looking men who smelled of too much Axe body spray and sweat.

The mere thought of the combination curdled your stomach, propelling you deeper into the club and all the way to the bar. You thought that alcohol might right your foul mood, your skin already pricking with annoyance at your current circumstances.

Getting to the bar, it was as packed as you had been imagining. Everyone was contending for the bartender’s attention, demanding drinks that you were sure were as watered-down as your first shot had been.

You sighed, wondering why you had let your friend talk you into coming out tonight, when it was the last thing in the world you wanted to be doing.

Lack of desire for the club had turned into plain boredom now, every ounce of your body thrumming with the longing to escape. But you’d never just up and leave your friend, no matter how much you wanted to. You’d just have to grin and bear it.

Tapping your finger along to the music, that wasn’t even good, the slow and melodic electronic music nearly putting you to sleep, you waited for your drink. Finally getting your drink from the bartender, you slurped it down, hoping the subtle sting of the alcohol would wake you up, and trigger something to make your night more enjoyable.

You began to walk back to where you had left your friend, deciding to scoop her drunk ass up and take her back with you to your place to call it a night at... you checked your phone, a pathetic ten-thirty. But you stopped in your tracks when something caught your eye, or rather someone.

Turning your head toward the seated area, which basically served as the VIP section without actually having the name, because there was nothing special about it. Old red velvet couches that had seen better days and probably had every fluid known to man seeped into the cushions, and wobbly tables that were smattered with decade-old stains.

You squinted your eyes, the stage lights blinding you as you put a hand up, shielding your eyes as you attempted to make out a vaguely familiar shape that was sitting in said area. You took a tentative step forward, thinking that your eyes were deceiving you, the wild lights making you see things. Because there was no fucking way that you were actually seeing what you were seeing, no fucking way.

Your eyes bulged out of your head at the sight. Your dad’s neighbour, Joel Miller, was sitting on one of the couches, a beer in one hand, his other hand disappearing below the cut of the table. Your eyes followed his hand, trailing down the length of him until they snagged on the back of someone's legs, kneeling below the table.

Your lips parted slightly, completely caught off guard by what you were seeing. You were watching your dad’s neighbour— or better yet, his best friend, get sucked off at a club. Feeling your face heat, you looked away, embarrassment coating your skin.

Your stomach lurched, turning with nausea and something else, your skin pricking with sweat as you glanced back up at Joel, meeting his already waiting eyes. Those chocolate brown orbs were blown, wide, and ghosting with surprise as he raked them over the expanse of you.

His face glowed in the low light of the club, the flashing lights dancing and snagging your gaze to his lustful expression. The way that his eyes were heavy-lidded, the slight sheen that coated his brow, and the way that his chest rose and fell excessively.

It was a scene that you couldn’t look away from, even though you wanted to. You wanted to get out of there and go... well, you didn’t exactly know. The longer that Joel’s eyes held yours, the more you felt yourself being drawn into his orbit, his world. Your chest began rising and falling in time with his own, and a dull throbbing began in your cunt, surprising you completely.

You didn’t think that you’d be this kind of person, someone who was turned on by watching other people having sex. But you also couldn’t deny or explain the influx of wetness that saturated your panties.

You awkwardly clenched your thighs, rubbing them together to ease some of the pressure you felt. Joel’s stare burned into you, causing your heartbeat to thrum erratically in your throat.

You felt sick and depraved and like you should be anywhere else in the world, but another part of yourself couldn’t look away, because you didn’t want to.

You wanted to see Joel fall apart right in front of you, to see him burst at the seams and devolve into a fit of pleasure right before your eyes. And like you had wished it into existence, you watched as he tipped his head back, snapping his eyes closed, his whole body convulsing as he came. You’d be lying if you said that it wasn’t a beautiful sight to behold.

Another gush of your own arousal leaked out of you, sticking the thin material of your panties flush against your cunt, rubbing against your already swollen clit. Fuck, you felt too hot and you needed to cool down, maybe splash some water on your face.

Ducking out of Joel’s line of sight, you headed past the winding staircase, down a rather dark hallway, and toward a couple of heavy-set doors that housed the bathrooms. There weren’t many people around, only a few bodies scattered throughout the hall.

Couples made out in the dark and you may or may not have seen a drug deal going down. But none of that mattered now, the only thing you needed to do was close yourself into a stall and try to get your hormones under control.

Even though the thud of the music carried all the way down the hall, you could still hear a rhythmic thump of someone stomping in your direction. You turned on your heels, anxious to see who it was. Before you could even blink, strong arms shoved you past one of the steel doors, locking it behind you, before planting you against it on the other side.

Your eyes trailed their broad and expansive chest, cresting at their salt and pepper beard and mustache, and settling on their sinful eyes. Eyes you had just been staring into moments before. It was Joel. Shock and something lustful coasted through you, sending a shiver of pleasure up your spine.

Joel’s face was inches from yours, his breathing mingling with your own, the heady scent of beer invaded your nostrils. His eyes dipped to your lips and then lazily dragged back to your eyes. His hands were resting on your hips, keeping you between the door and his body, caging you in.

“What’re you doing?”, you asked, swallowing thickly, trying to avoid his eyes.

“What’s it look like ‘m doing?”, he replied, his Southern drawl coming out as thick as honey, making your thighs snap together.

You shook your head gingerly, “Dunno...”.

His lips quirked up, a sinister smirk plastered on his face, “Turn around”. His voice was gruff and assertive, making you quiver at the tone.

You were stunned into silence, your mouth opening and closing like you were trying to catch flies, surprised by his forwardness.

“What—”, you started.

You couldn’t even catch your breath before Joel’s rough grip grabbed your arms, turning you around in his hold and pressing your front against the edge of the sink, basically bending you in half so that your ass was facing him, on full display.

“This fuckin’ dress”, he mumbled behind you, fisting the material and tugging it up, bunching it around your waist, leaving your ass bare save for your drenched thong. “Wanted to fucking rip it off of ya”.

You whined, pushing your ass toward him, your body completely under his spell, his raspy voice suddenly fulfilling every dirty fantasy you’d ever had about this man. It wasn’t as if he was unattractive by any stretch of the word, he was ruggedly attractive even.

Your mind couldn’t concentrate on your thoughts of how attractive Joel was before a stinging slap came down on your bare ass cheek. You craned your neck, as best you could, but you felt another quick sting, forcing you to remain in the position you were in.

“Fuck—”, you half-whined, half-mewled, both turned on and pissed off at the same time. “You can’t just—”.

Another slap, harder this time, causing your body to jolt and instinctively wiggle away from the pain.

“I can—”, Joel groaned, another full-palm slap on your ass, probably leaving a large, red imprint there. “And I will”.

Joel’s other hand was pressing down on your back, pushing your face further and further toward the porcelain sink that wasn’t as white as it probably had been once upon a time. It made your stomach revolt against you, the combination of cigarette ash and week-old vomit was not the most pleasant scent.

You felt Joel’s hand slip away from your ass, his fingers trailing over the back of your exposed legs, moving lower and lower. You attempted to look behind you again, his body not crowding you anymore.

When you did manage to sneak a peek, he was lowering himself onto his knees, spreading your legs farther apart by the back of your knees.

Your eyes went wide, “What- what are you doing, Mr. Miller?”.

Joel rolled his eyes, nipping at your sore ass cheek, causing you to jump. “So many goddamn questions”.

You muttered something incoherent, a protest of some sort, but Joel wouldn’t hear it, only ignoring you and continuing on his mission. He pulled your deep red thong to the side, the chilled air in the bathroom hitting your exposed clit deliciously.

“Mm, my favourite colour”, he groaned.

You shook like a leaf as you awaited what came next, feeling Joel’s harsh breath closing in on your pussy, the anticipation actually killing you. It was like a shock to your system, the feel of his warm mouth suctioning to your lips, sucking and licking like he had been deprived all this time.

Your hips pressed back into him, involuntarily chasing the sensation, the friction, the high. The brash feel of Joel’s beard tickled you, circling your entrance like a shark would its dinner. He licked along your folds, fucking his girthy tongue into your hole as he spread your cheeks further apart, stretching you painfully with the size of it.

You were a moaning mess, hands strangling the edge of the sink, as you held on for dear life. Searing pleasure gripped your lower stomach, throttling your insides as Joel picked up his pace, helping you to your orgasm.

It came over you suddenly and violently, making you shake as you clenched your eyes shut, rocking back into him as light burst behind your eyes, making your body sweat and tingle with the aftershocks.

You felt Joel move to stand, palming the flesh of your ass cheeks with both his hands as you took this opportunity to catch your breath. Your chest heaved as you lay virtually flat against the sink, your breasts squishing down painfully.

Lightheaded and completely fucked out, you hadn’t even been aware that Joel’s hands were on you again, manhandling you so that you were turned around, facing him. He roughly gripped the hem of your dress, yanking the material down, your breasts popping out of their constraints.

“D’you like what you saw earlier?”, Joel asked, his voice dropping an octave, causing goosebumps to erupt all over your skin. “Hmm? Was that sweet lil’ pussy weeping for me while I was getting blown?”.

Your mind was clouded, a fog settling over each neuron, slowing down your capacity to think and speak, let alone to respond to him. You nodded your head, moaning in his ear, rubbing your jaw along his own, scraping your skin over his patchy beard.

“Fuck”, he groaned, rutting his hardened bulge into your thigh, creating succulent friction for himself while you leaned back, taking it. “I almost blew my load when I saw that you were watching me, gettin’ off on seeing that”.

You dropped your head to his shoulder, your mind still stuck in that post-orgasm haze.

Joel gripped your chin in his fingers, tipping your head up so that your eyes were locked with his, “Eyes on me, darlin’. I ain’t finished with you yet”.

You nodded again, your breathing coming out rushed as you gulped down heaps of air, filling your lungs, eyes locked on Joel’s. Your lids were heavy, vision clouded as Joel leaned forward, lips grazing yours.

His teeth came down on your bottom lip, suddenly, making you yelp. The pressure was light, not as hard as you were expecting, not as hard as a part of you wanted. Joel groaned, his hands roaming all over you. Your hips, your stomach, your ass.

Your hands raked up and down Joel’s chest, steadying yourself with the feeling of the coarse material underneath your palms. Your gaze flicked down to his buttoned-up shirt, to the three buttons that were undone, the dense hair on his chest, stippled with grey and white.

He hummed, his chest rumbling below your fingers as you dipped them under his shirt, weaving through the loose curls, exploring the feel of him. His chest was solid, firm, strong, dependable. A strange wave of calm washed over you, igniting your confidence.

“No...”, you breathed, your chest heaving, pulling one raspy breath after another from your lungs, “I’m not finished with you yet”.

Joel’s eyes widened, his mouth parted, his tongue peeking out to swipe over his already glistening lips. A smirk tugged at the edge, his index finger slipping past your bottom lip. You opened wider, allowing his digit to slip into your mouth, the heedy taste of sweat and something sweeter settled on your tongue, your taste buds exploding with the tang of him.

“Is that so?”, Joel cooed, his voice dripping, oozing with unbridled desire.

He pushed his digit deeper into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat roughly. The intrusion was sudden, making your eyes snap shut as you tried your best to keep it together, to not give Joel the reaction he was looking for. But you gagged, all the same, drool pooling and dribbling out of the corner of your mouth.

You heard Joel click his teeth, a disappointed tsk coming from deep in his chest as he tried again, this time gripping your chin with his other hand, making sure you opened wide for him.

“Come on, you can do better than that...”, he mused, his middle finger accompanying his index, sliding them deeper and deeper down your throat, until you couldn’t do anything but take it, the will to fight against the shock to your system fading quickly. “Show Daddy how much you want to suck his cock”.

Your pussy began to thrum rapidly, your slick running down your inner thighs, making them sticky, making you even more of a mess than you already felt. You moaned around Joel’s fingers, sucking and bobbing your head along them as best as you could.

His hand dropped from your chin to rub at your peaked and sensitive nipples, playing with them, distracting you from what you were doing. It was maddening, the sensation, the tweaking, the way he chuckled under his breath when you stuttered around him, groaning every time you took him deeper.

He pinched your right nipple harder, twisting it, “Keep going, baby”.

That was all the reminder that you needed. You shifted your focus back, inhaling through your nose deeply, taking his fingers down more, more, more. Tears bubbled along your waterline, making your vision of Joel blurry, and unfocused.

Suddenly, he pulled his fingers out of your mouth, a thin line of your saliva still attaching you to him. Your attention was focused on the strand until it broke, your gaze sliding up Joel’s face, past his greying and patchy beard, his full, plump lips, and settling on his burning eyes.

“Are you ready for Daddy’s cock now? Hm?”, he asked, in an almost mocking tone.

You nodded, still a little dazed, still a little flustered. He grabbed your chin forcefully, his grip tight as he angled your head up, your eyes downcast as you kept them locked with his.

“Tell me you want it, darlin’”, Joel’s face was inches from yours, his lips so close that you could push up on your toes and kiss him, feel them against you, but you didn’t, not yet. “Tell me you need it”.

“I-I need it...”, you said, low. Joel’s brow raised, urging you to continue, “Daddy...”, you whined, your hips grinding into his thigh absentmindedly.

Joel nodded, his pupils blown out, gleaming with lust and dark intent. You watched as his hands dragged across his stomach, sliding down farther and farther, resting above his belt.

“Can I...”, you trailed off, preoccupied by his massive bulge, the way that it twitched in his jeans, practically punching a hole through them.

Joel smirked, “Yeah, go ahead, baby”. His breathing was stunted, coming out in shallow pants as he anticipated you finally touching him.

You reached out, hands dangling loosely on his hips, thumb rubbing along his zipper. You heard Joel’s breathing hitch above you, and you smirked. So, he was just as affected as you were... interesting.

Holding in a breath, you tentatively searched his eyes a last time, he nodded slightly, his eyes never leaving you. You sank to your knees, Joel’s hand darting out to grab your arm, stabilizing you as you lowered yourself fully.

You looked up at him through your full lashes, trapping him with your stare as you undid his jeans, slowly, with purpose. Your heart hammered in your chest, your mouth already filled with saliva as you awaited what you anticipated to be a huge cock.

You couldn’t believe that you were on your knees, wrestling with Joel’s belt as he stood over you, towering over you, when just the other day he was helping your Dad change the oil in your car.

Your Dad hadn’t been any the wiser to the way you had been ogling his neighbour and best friend the entire time. How you traced every bead of sweat that presented on his brow, how you watched intensely as his back muscles contracted under his plain black t-shirt every time he bent over the hood of the car, making you bite your lip as you imagined all the ways he could bend you over that hood and rail you into oblivion.

You had focused on his dirty fingers, how meticulous and deft they were as they tinkled with the fine parts inside of your car, how filthy they were, covered in inky black smears. You felt like you were in heat, completely turned on by normal, everyday things, something as simple as a man— who again, was old enough to be your Dad, helping your actual father tune up your car.

Pulling Joel’s zipper down, his black briefs hugged the shape of his cock, the fleecy material moulding his straining member beautifully. Your mouth watered at the sight, the size of him, the way that he smelled, even before you pulled him out of his underwear.

You couldn’t help yourself, you needed to taste him then, immediately. Your core fluttered as you inched forward, hands wrapping around his thick, sturdy thighs, your nose burying deep into his hardened flesh, inhaling his intoxicating scent. And it was intoxicating.

Your head was already swimming, your lips rubbing up and down his shaft, tongue licking his clothed cock. His musky soap took over your senses, the way his heavy scent settled over you, drawing you in deep, your tongue basically lapping at him now. Greedily, hungrily, shamelessly.

Joel’s hands dropped down to your hair, tangling in it. His hold was painful, bordering on brutal. You couldn’t handle it anymore, being so close and yet not close enough.

Your hands fumbled with the waistband of his underwear, dragging his pulsating cock out of them, feeling the weight of him in your hand. How warm and supple he was, how heavy and manly it was.

Wrapping your hand over him, feeling flesh on flesh, skin on skin, warmth flooded your core, arousal seeping from you again. Joel sharply inhaled a breath through his teeth, wincing when you took hold of him.

You looked up at him through lashed eyes, “What’s wrong?”.

Joel shook his head, “Cold”.

You snickered, rubbing your thumb over his slit, making his fists in your hair tighten significantly. In the low light, you could see a glob of something shimmering on his shaft, calling out to you. You took a closer look, realizing that it was lip gloss. Her lip gloss.

Your gut simmered and boiled as you inspected it, collecting it on your finger and wiping it off on his jeans, practically snarling as you did.

“She meant nothing, baby”, Joel said, his voice devolving into a groan when you slowly started stroking him.

You hummed, not completely satisfied with his answer but deciding to let it go for now. He wasn’t yours and you had no say over what or who he did. You tugged harder, angrier, even though you knew it was irrational to get upset over this.

“I can do it better”, you said, catching yourself off guard with your own words. Joel angled your head up, making you look at him.

“Show me then”, he mumbled, his eyes glazing over with desire as he watched you intently.

You sank down lower, face now level with his cock, fingers brushing against the wiry, short hair at the base. You inhaled deeply, inhaled the scent of him— sharp, masculine, heedy.

He was all man and he was all yours for the moment; his lips parted slightly, his eyes hooded as he looked down at you, his tongue darting out to run along his parched lips, watching you like a hawk, cementing to memory the image of you on your knees for him, his best friend’s little girl hungry for his cock, ready to gag on it and swallow down every bit of his seed until she was choking on it.

Joel’s cock pulsed under your touch, twitching with anticipation. Your lips quirked up at the edge, satisfied with his reaction to you, even though you hadn’t even started yet.

You leaned in, planting a sweet kiss on his tip, Joel’s hand flying to your hair, steadying himself as your tongue popped out, running along the underside of his shaft, the feeling so fucking delicious that he would have burst if he hadn’t tugged you away from his cock faster than you could suck him into your mouth.

“Stop... fucking teasing me...”, Joel breathed out, through clenched teeth, the pain in his voice making you giggle.

“Okay”, you conceded, rolling your eyes like the fucking brat that you were.

Joel loosed his grip on your hair significantly, and you pushed on, suckling at his tip, your tongue gliding over the head over and over again, effectively driving him insane— if his noises were any indication of that.

You took a deep breath through your nose and took more of him, hallowing out your cheeks, covering your teeth with your lips. Spit painted his cock, the smell mixing with the overwhelming scent that was already present in the bathroom.

You bobbed up and down on Joel’s cock, spurred on by the moans and broken grunts that were coming from him, your name and only your name spilling from his lips.

“God, you love this cock”, Joel mumbled, loud enough for you to hear, your pussy beginning to throb again. “Don’t ya?”.

You attempted to nod, opening your throat more for him to slide his length farther down.

“My little cock slut, huh?”, Joel grunted, his other hand joining the one that was already tangled in your hair, grabbing your head and shoving himself deeper down your throat.

You lost your rhythm, sputtering around him when you felt his tip hit the back of your throat. You closed your eyes, trying to breathe, but Joel wasn’t having any of it. He yanked hard, tipping your head up, your eyes glazed with tears.

“What did I say? Eyes on me”, he growled, taking over— taking charge of the situation. You gripped his thighs, holding on for dear life, as he used your mouth to get off, not caring in the slightest that you were running out of air.

Joel’s hips snapped violently as he pushed himself down your throat, groaning at the feel of it hugging his cock, squeezing it like he was fucking your pussy, fluttering every time you swallowed around him.

He grunted loudly, his tempo becoming stuttered, “What would your Daddy say? Hm? What would he say if saw you right now, your mouth stuffed full of my cock, makeup running down your cheeks?”.

You moaned around him, eliciting a pained groan from Joel, “Fuck, yeah, ‘s it... you’re doing so well for me”.

Tears were streaming down your cheeks, your eyes stinging as you blinked them away, swallowing around Joel’s cock periodically, trying to get him to cum.

He was close, you could feel it in the way that he was tensing up, his pace unsteady and rushed, head thrown back as he let the feeling wash over him. It was a sight to behold, your arousal leaking from you as you watched him.

A loud bang came from the other side of the bathroom door, some muffled shouting. Joel’s head snapped up at the intrusion, his thrusts becoming angrier each time he pulled out of you, only to shove back in harder.

The banging came again but this time Joel didn’t take his eyes off of you, didn’t want to miss how you reacted when he came down your throat.

“Want you to swallow it, darlin’. Don’t want you wasting a single drop”.

You hummed again, a hand reaching for his balls, massaging them in time with his thrusts. A loud grunt was all the warning that you got before Joel spilled his load down your throat, his seed hot as it pooled in your mouth, the taste salty and overwhelming to your senses.

You swallowed as much of him as you could, delighting in how he shuddered above you as he milked himself into your waiting and open mouth. He stepped back from you, tucking himself back into his jeans, running a hand through his sweat-slick curls.

A drop of his cum ran down your chin and you didn’t waste a second before you thumbed it, sticking the finger into your mouth and sucking it clean, a lewd pop emitting in the echoing bathroom when you were finished.

With a hand on the porcelain sink, you got to your feet, adjusting your dress and fixing your hair and makeup in the dirty mirror. You shrugged, not caring how you really looked, the club was dark enough that no one would be the wiser to what had just occurred. You hoped.

You turned to Joel who still had that look in his eye as he stared at you.

“What?”, you asked.

He shook his head, “Nothin’”. Another bang on the door, Joel’s head turned to the noise, his features darkening, “I’m going to knock their fuckin’ head off if they knock one more time”.

You walked to the door, patting Joel’s chest as you passed him, pulling it open. You stopped before you were all the way through, looking back at Joel.

You cleared your throat, your voice coming out raspier than usual, “See you around, Mr. Miller”.

You could have sworn that you saw a touch of a smile ghost his face, but you couldn’t be sure. You left the way you came, traversing the dark hallway and meeting up with your friend who was more than a little drunk.

You joined the group of them, dancing and grinding for hours. Maybe your night out wasn’t as bad as you had originally thought. You unconsciously scanned the dance floor— the club for the brooding neighbour you had a quickie with in the bathroom, but he was nowhere to be found.

You shrugged, only mildly disappointed that you were dancing with horny boys rather than the man who had made you see stars over and over again. But you smiled to yourself because you’d see him again, that was a guarantee, and maybe, just maybe he would need to help your Dad fix your car.

taglist: @morallyinept @reddedmiller @hellishjoel @jenispunk @cavillscurls @kiwisbell @joelslegalwhre

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hoshinasblade · 5 months ago

Text

second best |3| hoshina soshiro

PART 1 | PART 2 | BONUS: PART 3

pairing: hoshina soshiro x f!reader genre: slight angst, comfort, childhood friends to lovers, a bit of that miscommunication trope snippet: hoshina soshiro always ranks second at everything in his life. god forbid he falls behind in the bid for your heart too. word count: 2k trigger warnings: a bit suggestive at the end author's note: i promised a part three so here it is, hope you guys like it! likes, replies, and reblogs are welcome but im begging you not to copy or steal my works. feel free to sign up for my taglist (which i swear im gonna use on the next fic lol), and i appreciate when people send me asks so let me know your thoughts (or send me hoshina pics, that'd be great too). my masterlist is here! also i gotta let you know that i might put the next fic on hold because i am so tempted to start a short nsfw collection instead - just one-shots so it won't be a lot of commitments. who knows cause i might write angst and nsfw at the same time 😉

soshiro's hands were trembling. you noticed because it has not happened in a while - you cannot even recall the last time you've seen the man nervous, much less shaking. you were going to himeji that morning; hoshina had snatched your backpack from you - "when i said i would make it up to ya, i mean in every way i can," he said, sounding gentle and sincere that your only choice was to let him carry your belongings and blush as he also intertwined his fingers with yours while walking.

there is this story you have been hearing for a while - the red string theory, it is called. according to it, people who are destined to be together will always find each other despite everything and anything. when you were a kid, instead of thinking it romantic, you rather thought it is frightening - fate is a difficult enemy to go against: if it is meant to be, then it will be eventually. when you grew up, you held that belief as a prayer - it means that whoever is the one chosen for you may get lost on their way to you, but they will always - always - arrive.

you glanced at hoshina soshiro and you knew you were right to believe.

it was roughly a four-hour journey from tachikawa to himeji by train, and during the entire ride, even when he fell asleep for a short while, your boyfriend did not let go of your hand. you complained about your palms being sweaty as a joke, and he only loosened his hold. you understood - he is making it up to you, but he is also making up for all the wasted time.

"we're almost there," you told him when he startled from his nap. his bangs were slightly messy, and he bumped his head to your shoulders. "comfy," he hummed. you giggled.

you are still trying to navigate through dating a high-ranking officer of an anti-kaiju defense force unit. relationships aren't strictly forbidden but still frowned upon, which was a little bit of an issue between you and soshiro when you had a proper and long-overdue conversation about what you guys were. confessing is one thing, but when being friends is all you've known your whole life, you know adjustments are supposed to be made here and there.

which brings you and him back to your hometown.

he didn't exactly disagree with you, but you are aware he had his reservations about the idea of visiting himeji. "oh i'm pretty sure soichiro-kun would be surprised," you said when you were still planning the trip. "yes, we should kiss in front of him and give him a heart attack," soshiro suggested, and you weren't hundred-percent sure he was just joking. maybe you didn't want him to be.

when the streets started to look familiar, soshiro noted the sudden bounce in your pace. you and he have walked in the same alley years ago - he would wait for you after class and would even make up some ridiculous excuse so you could go home together. "i used to pretend to be tired way back just so i could convince you to slow down. i wanted to spend so much time with you," you reminisced.

"i should have known ya were head-over-heels for me," he teased.

"they miss ya, soshiro-kun. ya don't have anything to worry about." the change in topic wiped the smirk off his face. he was suddenly serious, sad even. there was a part of you that regretted saying the words, but he had to hear it - you only wanted to reassure him after all.

"just that i haven't been here for a long while", he said, squeezing your hand. "i don't know if they think this place is still my home."

"ya need to have faith in the people you care about, soshiro-kun. ya need to trust that they care about ya too," you solemnly advised. "i know that doesn't make any sense sometimes, but that's how i do it."

"have i told ya i love you so much?" he responded, to which you smiled.

"only a thousand times," you joked once more.

the hoshina estate is a spacious one - you have to pass through an automated black gate that directs you to the main house, the cobblestone path lined with cherry blossom trees, their delicate petals swirling when the wind blows gently; the grandeur of the home soshiro grew up in is undeniable with its traditional japanese architecture. a man with striking features and an aura of authority was waiting at the entrance, waiting for his son.

“father,” soshiro greeted the man, bowing deeply.

“an embarrassment that your friend will be the one to bring you home when you could have done it a long time ago,” soshiro’s father scolded him. his stare at soshiro was that of disappointment, which quickly disappeared when he looked at you. “ah, my dear, come on in, hurry, come on in,” he turned and said to you, inviting you in. the hoshina patriarch had always been fond of you - soshiro’s parents had wanted a daughter and they found one in you.

soshiro rolled his eyes. “my father’s favorite child is my girlfriend, great,” he muttered.

the maids made you a great dinner, cooking soshiro’s favorite food per his father’s request. conversation was light, and it was apparent that the old hoshina wanted to catch up so badly on how his son was doing, inquiring in consecutive questions about soshiro’s rank in the unit, his experiences so far, and his long-term plans in staying with the force. soshiro’s replies are detailed, but you know he intentionally did not mention all the instances where he almost died fighting.

soshiro’s father regaled you both with stories of soshiro’s childhood antics - “do ya remember, my dear, when soshiro tripped and fell on his face after training with soichiro? we were so worried, but he only fell asleep,” he recited the memory as if it was just yesterday., his kansai accent thick on his words. the tension that had lingered in the air had dissipated as you finished your meal.

“i had the guest room prepared for ya so ya can rest for tonight,” soshiro’s father had said when his son cut him off.

“no, we can sleep together,” soshiro declared, and thinking it might have sounded improper, he spoke again. “beside each other, i mean. in my room. because we’re tired. from travelling all day," he attempted to clarify but failed.

“ah, may i look forward to a grandchild soon from ya two?” color drained from your face as you slowly closed your eyes. you fought off a laugh but failed.

“ya may, but we aren’t doing that here of all places,” soshiro argued just as his father had turned his back on the both of you, amused with himself. at least now you know where soshiro got his sense of humor.

the hot shower felt great against your tensed muscles, and if you weren’t that exhausted, you would have opted for a bath instead. soshiro wanted to speak to his father alone, so when he ushered you inside his childhood bedroom, he’d let you know that he would be gone while you were cleaning yourself up. you were relieved; you haven’t seen your own father since you were a teenager, and it would be a shame to see it happening to the person you care about the most, not if you can do something about it. and this is not to say that you wanted to fix soshiro’s life - you pointed this out to him once - but he’s had a terrible habit of holding back and assuming the worst, so you had decided that if you could help him out, you would push him to the right direction.

“didn’t ya pack clothes?” his eyes were on you immediately after he came in, finding you on the bed with your phone, wearing his shirt.

“i did, but yours look better,” you replied, holding your arms out and showing him how oversized it is on you - the sleeves are passed your elbows, the hem reaching the middle of your thighs.

“they look better on ya, i agree.” he sat on the mattress for a few moments before lying down, his legs dangling off the edge of the bed. “ya all good?”

“i am,” you said to him. “especially because i scanned yer photos when ye're still little while ya were gone,” you informed him then showing him a folder you created in your device - baby hoshina soshiro folder, you named it - full of duplicates you made of the framed pictures of your boyfriend all over the house. there’s one where he didn’t have any hair at all; there’s one where he was close to crying but appeared to be keeping the tears in; there’s one where he was missing a tooth but smiling like there’s no tomorrow. soshiro moved to take your phone away, but you were quicker than him.

“this is payback, for all the times ya weren’t talking to me.” you were alluding to the three long months when you were still an applicant to the defense force and soshiro acted like you were a stranger. he had apologized for it already, but it is nice to make fun of him sometimes so you brought it up. “that hurt my feelings, ya know.” you laid down beside him, invading his personal space, your shoulders touching his.

“i was stupid”, he said. “and it’s not like i could have come up to ya and said, hey i’m sorry for leaving ya in himeji, by the way i’m crazy for ya.”

“and all those times i thought ya had something with commander ashiro, oh god!” you exclaimed for effect. “by the way, the other recruits thought the same.”

“it’s not like that between her and me.” his gaze on you was brief. “it’s not like that with anyone else.”

“it better not be, because i’m leaking all yer baby photos to the first division if ya mess up,” you threatened him despite not needing to.

“i promise, i won’t.” he grabbed your hand from your side and linked it with his, cradling it to his chest before bringing it to his lips. “i’m not that stupid.”

soshiro’s childhood room was what you would expect from a teenage boy: a king-sized bed, a bookshelf of manga, a cabinet showcasing knives and blades. you never had the opportunity to enter his room even when you were kids, you realized. you looked up to the ceiling and you saw green dots that formed shapes - makeshift constellations, you recognized the patterns - little plastic stickers that you glue to surfaces. “are those supposed to be stars?”

soshiro sighed, his arm on top of his face. “yeah, uh - remember when uh - i think that was in junior high, and ye're so into astronomy? i thought it’d be a good idea to know the names of the stars to impress ya, so i started trying to memorize them.”

you shifted to face him, speechless. maybe if you had known this, if you had known the other things you are certain now that soshiro had done and was willing to do for you, you wouldn’t have wasted years questioning your place in his life and deciphering his feelings. a wave of warmth washed over you as you reached out and lifted his arm off his face, meeting his eyes.

soshiro’s lips felt as soft as it looks like, you thought as you kissed him. you pushed yourself into him, and he pulled you tighter until it seemed there was not enough air for you to breathe - until your chests were pressed together it was as if your hearts were beating as one. something sparked inside you; the sensation of being so close to soshiro about to consume you from within. his hand crawled to your hips and remained there. you drew back a bit after that, and when you saw the panicked look on his face, you kissed him again.

“i love you,” you told him in between pants.

the night went on, and by the end of it, hoshina soshiro discovered that his favorite sound is you moaning his name.

#YEYYY #hoshina soshiro #soshiro hoshina #hoshina soshiro x reader #soshiro hoshina x reader #hoshina x reader #hoshina soshiro fic #kaiju no. 8 #kn8 x reader #hoshina #I YEARN FOR BOYFRIEND HOSHINA!!!!

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1920sladydectective · 6 days ago

Note

Mhhhhh, maybe

-Ambessa x Babett's "Worker"

-A captuered War Prize 😌

But also

-A Servant of Hers

Please dont feel forced to write anything, Just saw your request and wanted to give Suggestions.🙊💕

Hello darling! Thank you for the ideas, whilst I may visit them all I have done a captured war prize for now. It was supposed to be short and sexy but then it became..this? She plays the slow game and conquers the reader in other ways.

I hope you like it, thank you for the support <3

I haven't proof read it much because I am literally exhausted lol

MDNI 18+

Warnings - Manipulation, Mind Games, Captive, Degradation, Pet names, Reader doing accidental voyeurism, Oral, hair pulling.

Her Prized Possession - 3.8K NSFW

They’d come through like a tornado, ripping apart your entire life and feasting on the rubble. People had fled, terrified of the swift and unforgiving invasion. Those who remained were rounded up and tossed into carts. The ground shook, frightened by the fury of Noxus and at the heart of it all was her. Ambessa Medarda was renowned for her cruelty, her efficiency and most of all her greed.

You were the perfect example of that.

You had been pulled from your apothecary’s hut, cotton dress filthy from your attempts to hide. They raided you of your life’s work, people throwing you into a pile of frightened villagers. The air shifted, the soldiers straightening as certain steps commanded their attention. Without looking up you knew it was her, and fury burned bright. This self obsessed, pompous woman had destroyed your life and for what? She lingered a step away, sword raised lazily as if taunting farm yarn animals. You only had a few seconds, and even if it was fruitless you had to try.

As others cowered, obeying her cruel words, you slipped your fingers around the knife in your sock and shot forward. Somehow it made contact, slicing a gash into her leg, trailing down her leg.

“Monster,” You snarled.

You were risen into the air by your hair, a pained yelp leaning you as you stared into the eyes of a hungry beast. Golden eyes gazed at you, surprised and amused. You were going to die now, and she was laughing in your face.

“She’ll do,” She said easily, throwing your body at the ground behind her, before wandering off with no sign of injury. Confusion had eaten you until two lean Noxian soldiers had appeared, spears in hand.

Their touch was uncomfortably gentle, ushering you like a scared dog from the village into an imposing, structured tent. Fear licked at your bones, a fate worse than death settling on you like a thick cloak. Maids with pretty eyes and practised fingers removed your dress and replaced it with a soft red silk slip. Oh. You were a prize, an object like the towering pile of goods in their camp, to be used and discarded.

It didn’t take long for them to chain you to a small post next to a large, velvet armchair. There you sat, resting on your knees on cold marble. You felt ornamental, your humanity dripped away as you merged with the surroundings. You could only be thankful that it was warm in the tent, for the winter winds howled outside as afternoon beckoned.

When she entered you refused to look up, muscles tensing.

“Sulking, are we Dear?” It was honeyed, as fabric dropped to the floor, “I wouldn’t, it was a good hit, if you’d gone up slightly it might have even done something,”

Your cheeks coloured with frustration. You hated her, hated how small she made you feel, how effortlessly she had crushed you. Worst of all you hated the beauty she wielded. Like a serpent, blinding you with glittering scales as she wound around you, squeezing you till you burst.

“Don’t tell me you’re ignoring me now,” She pouted, summoning your eyes instinctively, “There she is, brave warrior,”

You frowned, “I suppose it’s not enough that I’m here, you have to mock my only agency,”

Ambessa moved forward leisurely, in only black underwear and a robe, settling into her armchair, “I never mock a bold manoeuvre, little one, no matter how fruitless,”

She tugged you forward slightly, your head forced to rest on her thigh as she poured a cup of tea. You grunted, staring at the rug between her legs as she intertwined her fingers in your hair. Her touch was kind and repetitive, caressing your locks as she picked up a book and began to read aloud. Adrenaline was drowning you but your anticipation garnered nothing. She stayed like this for hours, muttering to you. The fire and her touch forced you into acknowledging your exhaustion. Occasionally she would offer water, fingers wielding a crystal glass for you. It took five tries for you to accept, your throat aching from dehydration. You were rewarded with a scratch under your chin as her voice continued to wash over you. In another life this would have filled you with contentment and it grated at you.

Moments later you were being moved again, picked up as though a feather to rest on her silky thighs. The hand she reattached to your head pushed you into the crook of her shoulder, her smell potent and warm. Iron and sweat clashed with spices and sea air, leaving your flagging mind woozy. You couldn’t escape and you had no way of harming her, so sitting in her lap became your only option.

You hadn’t noticed your fluttering eyelids and heavy breath until your stomach growled, cramping at its emptiness. Her voice stopped immediately as the book slammed shut. Those eyes, now kind, surveyed you. With a melodic ring, a bell to her side beckoned two maids.

“What do you wish to eat?” Ambessa asked, tucking a strand behind your ear, “I shall share whatever you have,”

“Pork stew,” You muttered, desire for food and comfort outweighing your doubts. If she’d wanted you dead, you’d be a corpse.

“A local delicacy, I’m told,” Her words are in your ear, lips practically against them.

The food arrived faster than you’d thought possible, steaming and hearty in little gold bowls. Your stomach interjected again, eyes wide and desperate. To your immense surprise, she undid your shackles and allowed you to feed yourself. Though you were still anchored to her lap by a strong arm, this newfound freedom caused a rush of joy. The stew was exceptional, though more decadent than you ever would have had it. The chef must have had a heavy hand with the spices, no cares as to their cost, the heat flooding you. Ambessa seemed comforted too, her portion over double yours as you watched in subtle amazement at her appetite. It could have fed a family of four from your village with ease.

Whatever plans she had for you, it seemed she would not be enacting them tonight. Your silk slip was a nightgown and nothing more, as she moved with you through the tent into an adjoining room with a large, fur covered bed.

“Now then,” Her hand held your chin, “Shackles for bed tonight, wouldn’t want you wandering off until you’ve proved your loyalty,”

Loyalty? That’s what she wanted?

The metal felt warmer than before, less weighted as she clasped it shut and bundled you up. Her form slid in next to you, though she mercifully did not insist you touch her. You did not speak, unable to give her the satisfaction after having to tolerate so much, though she wished you a tender goodnight.

Your sleep was fitful, filled with slashing blades and burning embers. You awoke alone, furs wrapped tight. A slip of parchment was to your left in a sharp hand.

I shall be away all day,

There are clothes and some books on my armchair for you.

Mira will see to anything you need,

A.M.

True to her word, a slight serving girl entered the moment you moved to the main space, trays of food and drink with her. She helped you dress, braided your hair and even undid the shackles.

“Lady Medarda said this is a show of trust,” Her words were clear, as if dictating from a note, “If you attempt anything, guards will be on you before you can lift a scrap of the tent’s fabric,”

“Lovely,” You grumbled to yourself, “Her trust gives me the ability to lift a glass unaided,”

“If you behave she will bring your medical journals and allow you to sleep without restraint,” She said, a smile on her face. Of course she had predicted you’d complain.

The book she had read to you yesterday was in the pile and after breakfast you found yourself wanting to learn its conclusion. Warm in the wool trousers and jumper Ambessa had provided you, you sat in the chair and finished it. If Mira had any opinions about you sitting in her Mistress’s chair she did not voice them, and the small rebellion quieted some of the caged panic that rattled in your chest. Her slowness to act just gave you time to think of an escape plan and then you could get away elsewhere

The sun set quickly, your time wasted with dozing and books as you memorised each corner of the room. Though this was technically a tent, it was secured enough to act as a house, with the only way out being forward which wasn’t a way out at all. Lady Medarda ensured that.

When Ambessa returned dinner had long since passed, and you had begrudgingly put yourself to bed. The curtain parted and her fatigued face came into view.

“There you are,” She sighed, “I thought you would have dug a tunnel out of here by now,”

“Cutlery’s too dull, no doubt a coincidence,” You found yourself quipping, observing the way her mouth creased into a grin.

“No need for a sharp knife when your meat is tender,” She purred, moving to the other side of the bed and removing her outer clothes, “Did you have a restful day?”

She seemed genuinely interested, and not for the first time you wondered where the wolf had gone. Shifting your tactics in the hopes of softening her, you gave a muffled answer. Mollified, she curled up as she had the night before and fell asleep almost immediately.

You were gloriously shackleless and yet if you fled now she would probably crush your throat before both feet hit the floor. It was expected this first night, and probably the second, a test of your resolve and patience. The only way to go would be when she genuinely trusted your obedience.

Ten days and a camp change later you were beginning to lose patience. She was vigilant, but considerate and it left you now windows of opportunity. You weren’t a hardened warrior as she had joked that first day, you were an apothecary with nothing to do but lounge around and be read to by a infamous warlord. You were beginning to feel mad, a life of leisure so roughly thrust upon you. The conditions only improved with the move and her tent now had its own bathroom, a humongous glistening tub calling to you. Ambessa had begun to ask you for opinions on her expansion plans, seemingly wanting to preserve the charm of your land whilst overpowering it with Noxian glamour. WIth your input she kept the old churches and allowed your people to tend to their lands if they swore allegiance to Noxus.

In a gilded cage, miles away from your home, you weighed the advantages of staying entangled against the bliss of freedom. The guards were becoming more lax, allowing you to wander through parts of the camp and make friends with Mira and the other maids. She had not harmed you, save pulling your hair that first day and you were well provided for. She’d even managed to tug more substantial conversations from you, even when they lacked a business element. You’d told her of your journey to becoming an apothecary, and she had explained the first time wore armour, clattering to the floor mid fight.

At night, as rain slammed down and the wind chilled your toes, you would gaze longingly at the doorway and then find yourself tugged into warm, firm arms. Much like reading time, you were held and pressed into her, scent dizzying. She smiled, you had noticed, when she cradled you in her sleep. Each time it would wipe the door from your mind as you succumbed to a more contented sleep. Most confusing of all, she was showing no signs of tiring of you as a ‘toy soldier’ as she had affectionately dubbed you. Nobody seemed to understand why you lingered in her space rather than being given your own, perhaps not even her.

On the thirtieth day things shifted. After dinner, a heavy dress floating around your feet, you slipped back into the tent and were met with breathy, loud moans. Not Medarda’s, though she was clearly the cause. Hidden by the thick curtains, a high female voice begged and cried the warlord’s name, the creaking of your bed audible.

Your bed.

Her bed, you corrected grimly, embarrassment sticky in your throat. The noise ceased almost immediately after you had entered, and your feet froze to the ground. A nameless, unknown girl slipped from the bedroom, meeting your gaze with a pleasure struck face. A vapid giggle left her as she slipped past you.

Ambessa appeared moments later, robe loose around her, with an easy expression. It darkened imperceptibly in your presence, though you felt the subtle chill.

“I didn’t realise you were back, Warrior,” She muttered, voice heavy, “That wasn’t planned, I-I shall notify you if I intend to use our space like that,”

Our.

Wait, did she think you’d be jealous?

“How the mighty have fallen,” You scoffed, unable to meet her gaze, “Shouldn’t I be fearing consequences from you, as the captive,”

“You’re not the one with a new leg scar,”

Touche. She seemed to hold you on a pedestal for that act alone and you had yet to decipher why.

It was made clear by the flurry of people that the bedroom was stripped and remade. It calmed you, the faceless woman erased from the space though you and Ambessa lingered. You didn’t care what she did with her love life but you decided you didn’t need to know about it.

Unfortunately, it was hard to avoid. Trysts, people trying to charm their way into your her bed as you ate at the communal table and several conquests leaving that you had to face the next day. It made your stomach ache, fingers dancing with nervous energy every time she lay next to you, her scent changing every so slightly if she had had company. Almost another month passed with you on tenterhooks, stuck between the safety of your leisure with her and the stain of sin on your sanctuary.

The worst of all had to be tonight though. You had awoken alone for the first time, colder than ever, when you heard it. Ambessa’s blissful sigh. She was actively being pleasured in her armchair whilst you fucking slept. Through a crack in the curtain you could see tan legs kneeling just as you had that first night, between her thighs with their head on her skin. The notable difference was how they devoured her, pulling dark moans and filthy words from her gravelly voice. It was hard to ignore, her scent drenching you in the bed you shared as she used another’s body. You tried to stifle the noise, covering your ears and burrowing into the bed. This made the scent issue exponentially worse, especially when the mattress dipped and her still sex slicked body curled against your form. Her lips kissed your forehead, the burn of her skin scalding you.

Her pleasure haunts your dreams, lurking shadows and echoing noise. Close, but just out of reach. For the first time you wake before her, skin muggy and unsettled as you dressed in a robe and wandered into the morning dew. The grass was beginning to have that telltale icy crunch, cracking under your velvet slippers as you slipped out of the camp unnoticed. Your thoughts sit like damp coffee grounds, thick and grainy as you fight the memories of the night before, choking what they make you feel. It was not jealousy, it was anger to be sure.

There was no direction to your wandering. The treeline called to you with its snowy arms reaching high, animals dancing through the dense white landscape. Not too far in the distance there stood a frozen lake and a childish part of you yearned to skate across it, your body moving you unbidden. It was larger up close, iridescent swirls of nature showing the loose water below. It reminded you of how you felt about your life now, about Ambessa.

Fear and nostalgia sat steadfast as your ice, hardening your resolve and keeping your wit sharp, but beneath was the flow of her. In two short months she had managed to nurture your underfed body and mind, relishing in your rebellion and cherishing your input. The warlord existed so clearly to you, but you could not reconcile her with the reader who brewed you floral tea. One stirred anxiety and the other calm. Picking up shards of ice and flinging them across the lake, you attempted to untangle the Noxian web within you. Sparkles of sunlight grew higher as you stewed, beginning to blind you as you stepped closer to the edge, ice grunting under you.

“I’m not sure you’re dressed for whatever this is,” Ambessa’s voice rang out, her body leaning against a tree.

You had sensed her, though her movements were muffled, form tightening.

“Something troubling you?”

“Just fancied a walk,”

“In a robe and slippers?” She snorted, “Some walk indeed,”

“Did you need something?”

“You, Dear,” She muttered, at your back in an instant, “I woke up alone,”

Your heart panged oddly, her presence fueling the rushing currents under the ice, as you lent into her warmth. “Here I am,”

Her cloak engulfed you, dragging you under as her dulcet tones rasped in your ear, “Let’s get you home, Little one,”

Home.

It occurred to you then as you stumbled back with her that perhaps you hadn’t been a prisoner in a while. Here you stood, free and yet wishing only to return to the warmth she had made for you.

A bath was drawn and you crawled into it obediently. Her eyes were shut, though she cleaned your hair and muttered to you about her day to come. It was peace. It was bliss. It was your worst nightmare. Cold receded and you allowed yourself to slip into a warm lull.

She left soon after, leaving behind new pyjamas and a sweetbread. You stayed in bed, as confused and dazed as those first weeks.

That night you were awoken by the same wanton sounds in the living room and your nostrils flared, fingers crushing the softness of your sheets. Your emotions flopped again. You hated her. She was vile and infuriating and brutal and somehow constantly having fucking sex.

When Ambessa slid into bed this time, sweet smells of pleasure wafting from her, you let out a growl.

“DId I wake you?” She muttered, a smile etched on her lips.

“You don’t touch me like that,” It slipped out, fury and turmoil.

“Pardon?” Her eyes had darkened, observing you curled and tense.

“W-We do everything else, you treat me as an equal and give me freedom, but you use our space for cheap pleasures whilst I sleep,”

“I was unaware it was a pro-”

“You don’t touch me like that,” It was a whine now, “Why?”

“You’ve never asked, little warrior,” Her voice was sin, soaking you and tugging you close, “I didn’t realise you were unhappy with me,”

“Please,” You croaked, gripping her forearm weakly, “I-”

Her lips were on yours, firm and rough, her tongue slipping into your mouth. Pretty girl, she thought, delicate and hers. You melted like butter, nuzzling close and stroking her grey curls. She was perfect, and you finally had all of her. Her fingers danced along your silk nightgown, cupping a breast with a firm hand. Leaning forward, she nipped at your neck as skilled hands massaged neglected flesh. You were keening instantly, eyes glossy and lips parted.

Minutes drained away against her ministrations as your thighs rubbed together, the burn beginning to hurt as she teased your pebbled nipples in her mouth. Your nightgown was wet from her saliva, and the friction of the fabric with her tongue had you rutting against her thigh. Bruises were forming on your neck, your upper body ruined before she’d even undressed you.

“Please,” It seemed the only word you could remember, puffy mouth slurring it at every opportunity.

“Again,” She teased, finally ripping your clothes from you, “Louder,”

You pleaded and gasped, each word heightening your arousal, your desperation, as her fingers stroked your folds. She was kind, allowing you the pleasure you yearned for, slicked thumb rubbing circles on your clit as she stretched you slowly.

Ambessa felt a swell of triumph. It had taken her endless hours of uncharacteristic kindness and stern patience, allowing you to cycle through defiance, anger and acceptance as often as you needed until you finally succumbed. You were drenched and mewling against her, sex drunk eyes stuck to her. It had been fulfilling, breaking you in, just as she had suspected when she caught eyes with a crazed, dirt covered woman with the audacity to wield a blade to her.

Tugging orgasm after orgasm from you, cunt quivering and tensing as you drooled mindlessly, she relished in her victory. Her power was etched into you now.

“Silly girl,” She cooed, voice a knife edge, “I knew I could make you mine,”

Her words cut through the tingling fog. You realised, with a dizzying stab, that you had always been her war prize, she just hadn’t conquered you till now. Each tender touch and measured interaction was to break you into her willing little toy and here you were, fucking yourself shamelessly on her thick digits. You would have been more hurt, a flare of resistance kicking in, if it weren’t for the unabashed love and satisfaction in her eyes. Well then, you guess you’d both been played. The mighty warlord may have broken you, reshaping your desires, but she had fallen in love in the process and you would relish that till your dying breath.

“Wouldn’t it have been easier to just use me months ago,” You quipped, starting a slow and methodical worship of her scarred body.

“You wouldn’t have wanted it, warrior,” She muttered, amused by your acceptance, “I am many things, but I only fuck those who ask,”

“I want it,” You sucked her nipple, humping her leg as her eyes slammed shut.

“I know, doll,” Her hands pulled your hair, making you yelp happily, “You soaked my hand like a good girl to prove it,”

For a moment, as you curled between her legs and began to eat like a woman starved, you wondered if this was the right choice.

Ambessa let out a noise, confusing to your ears. It was nothing like the others you had heard in her time with others, it was delirious and light, happy pants slipping out as you sucked and fucked her with your tongue. She came quickly, face blank as she suffocated you with her cunt. Her touch, despite it all, was tender. She was yours and you were hers.

There was nothing more right than that.

#ambessa x reader #ambessa medarda #ambessa smut #arcane ambessa #reader insert

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naughtyneganjdm · 5 months ago

Text

For I Have Sinned

Summary: Since Negan was brought to Alexandria, you have been attracted to him. One day you find Negan dressed up like Father Gabriel and instantly find yourself turned on by the attire. After fantasizing about him all night, you decide to admit your feelings to Negan in a confession.

Characters: Negan, Aaron, Father Gabriel & the reader (OC, second person)

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/57469084

Warnings: 18+, Swearing, Smut, Daddy Kink, Unprotected P in V, Oral, No Use of Y/N, breeding kink, dirty talk, priest! Negan, Public Play in a Church, Rough, etc.

Notes: This is more so Negan as a priest in training lol, but I just ran with it. It's just another filthy one shot from me. I hope you like it!

The unbearable heat was starting to break you down. It had been one of the hottest summers that you could think of in years. After the world fell to shit you thought there would be a lot of downtime, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. Living in Alexandria meant you were working all the time. Non-stop. More than you would have ever done before when the world was normal. But it exhausted you. Being a sweaty mess and sore at the end of the day only to know you had to do it all over again tomorrow didn’t appeal to you. It was exhausting.

“Pick up the pace,” Aaron’s voice called out to you when you took a minute outside the gates of Alexandria to catch your breath. Shooting a glare at Aaron instead of fighting with him, you just pushed forward and headed back into town. Aaron slowed down to keep up with you and you kind of were just ready to be done at this point. You liked Aaron and he was a good friend of yours, but you were just exhausted. “Do you need a day off tomorrow? You look whipped.”

“I am,” you confessed feeling Aaron stopping, reaching out to grab your arm to get a look at you. “I don’t mean to whine Aaron, but I’m completely drained. It’s been non-stop with little to no rehabilitation for my body. I’m willing to do some smaller work around here, but out there I’m really putting my everything into things.”

“I’ll get you a week or so working inside the walls,” Aaron promised starting to talk to you about some things, but in the distance something else caught your eye. It kept you from hearing whatever Aaron was saying to you when your eyes followed the movements of what looked like Negan working on the church at the center of town. What shocked you the most was seeing that he wasn’t dressed like what you were used to seeing him in. He was wearing all black with the white collar of a priest. Almost like he was wearing Gabriel’s clothes. It had been a while since you had seen Negan but seeing that shocked you. You must have been gazing away too long because suddenly you had Aaron’s fingertips snapping in your face to get your attention back. “I lost you there.”

“You did. I won’t lie,” you pointed toward the church where Negan was hammering something in. Once Aaron saw what you were focused on, he rolled his eyes and huffed out loud. “I’m floored to see Negan wearing what he’s wearing. Is this a joke of some kind? Is it Halloween or…something?”

“No, this is Gabriel’s way of trying to fix him and prove that he’s changed,” Aaron scoffed, folding his arms out in front of his chest. The disgust over Aaron’s face told you everything about how he felt about the situation. “Gabriel is putting him through the trials of becoming a priest.”

You couldn’t help but laugh hearing that one. Negan? Of all people being a priest? Yeah, that was a crazy thought. Only if hell froze over. After all the time you spent with Negan when you would be the one that brought him his meals and talked with him, him being a priest was almost joke worthy for you.

"I still can’t believe the two of you are friends. You have very questionable taste in people,” Aaron grumbled under his breath and it made you smirk.

“You know, you’re my friend,” you reminded him, tilting your head to the side to get a good look at Aaron, arching your eyebrow in a mischievous way. It made Aaron roll his eyes and he dropped his arms down at his sides. “I like Negan. I think he’s a different man and I got to know him when I went down there with him.”

“You were down there with him because no one else could stand him,” Aaron noticed the way you were staring at Negan again. You were gawking at Negan who dropped the hammer down at his side and reached up to wipe sweat away from his forehead. When he slicked his hair back you felt your pulse leap in your chest and a moment later Aaron was hitting your shoulder. “You are smitten with him. What the fuck is your problem?”

“Language, that’s a priest you are talking about,” you teased Aaron, still keeping your attention on Negan never realizing before that you had some kind of kink for a priest, but with Negan wearing that you were starting to believe that you did. “Negan is a very attractive man. I’m not blind.”

“But you’re crazy,” Aaron commented and you tipped your head from side to side before shrugging. “For the love of God…”

“Now that you say that…” you stepped forward toward the church feeling Aaron reaching out for you. “I guess I could go show God some love.”

“Oh come on,” Aaron called out to you when you pulled away from him. Waving him off without looking back at him, you approached the church and leaned in.

“Working hard?” you whispered causing Negan to jump and he looked back at you. When he noticed it was you, a smirk tugged at his lips and he turned on his heel.

“Don’t you know to never scare someone holding a fucking hammer?” Negan waved the hammer about before moving forward to wrap an arm around you to pull you close to hug you. Having his short beard rubbing up against the side of your face made your eyes slam shut. God, this was what being close to him would always do to you. “Where have you been stranger?”

“Working my ass off,” you informed him with a sigh. It started to make you panic with him hugging you wondering just how much you may have smelled back with you working hard outside all day long.

“Oh?” Negan’s eyebrow arched up, his dimples sinking in when he pulled back to look you over. Urging you to turn on your heel, you weren’t sure what he was going with when he looked down at your bottom. “Nope, it’s still there.”

“Negan,” you laughed when you felt him smack your ass in a playful manner. Turning to face him, you watched the wolfish smile expand over his handsome features. “That’s not very God like. With you being a priest now and everything.”

“I…oh,” Negan looked down at what he was wearing. His face flushed over and he grumbled to himself. Lifting his head, his dimples sank in and he shrugged his shoulders. “I’m brand new at this whole thing. It’s going to take some getting used to.”

“I know it’s been a while since we’ve talked, but why did you do this? You look…ridiculous,” you couldn’t help but giggle seeing the way that his eyes avoided you. “I mean, not ridiculous. You’re very attractive and I like the whole look going on here for you, but you as a priest?”

“Yeah, I know,” Negan frowned, shrugging his shoulders while he tried to figure out what to say to you. “Because of everything I’ve done, Gabey boy thought it would be good for me to get in touch with God. So I guess I’m a priest in training. It really just means that I work on the church, clean things up, pass things out…”

“Did you even read the bible?” you wondered drawing his nose to wrinkle and he laughed.

“I did during my time locked up,” Negan answered with a sigh, shoving his hands into the pockets of his dark pants after he set the hammer down. “I had a lot of free time and Gabriel thought it would be good for me. There were some ridiculous fucking things in it, but I read it. I don’t agree with all of it, but if this helps people give me a chance and become a better person—I’m willing to try.”

“You don’t need to become a priest in order for you to become a better person,” you suggested to him hating to hear him say something like that. “I think you were already a better person, you just let these people get in your head.”

“I just want somewhere I feel like I belong,” Negan confessed with a saddened expression, lifting one of his hands to wave it about. “No one has really given me a chance here. You have, but I don’t get to see you much. Judith and Gabriel are the only two that have really put some effort into things with me. Gabriel was always preaching to me and he thought this was the only way for me to purify my soul.”

“So what do I call you now?” you reached out to playfully shove into the center of his chest causing a scoff to fall from his throat. “Father Negan?”

“Haha. Laugh it up,” Negan pulled his right hand out of his pocket and waved it about. “I think I look good you know. Black is my color and while I’m sweating my ass off in this, I can feel my soul purifying as we speak.”

“Oh, I see,” you smirked folding your arms out in front of your chest while gazing him over. “You know, it would be a lot hotter if you tore the arms off of that shirt. It’d be like you stepped right out of my dreams. A stripper priest. I’m getting wet just thinking about it.”

“Fucking hell…” Negan breathed out, his thick eyebrows bouncing up when he inhaled sharply. “You shouldn’t be talking like that. I can’t…I can’t be thinking the way you’re making me think right now with the way you are saying things. We talked about this in the past. The two of us…”

“The two of us kissed and I would have been okay with going the whole way, but you stopped me. Every time,” you reminded him of your past and he sighed, shifting on his feet. Rocking back and forth on them, he shrugged his shoulders and sighed dramatically. “I was never quite your type, huh?”

“That’s not true,” Negan immediately denied, shaking his head and letting out an irritated breath. “I was never good enough for you. That was the problem. This? This feels almost like a punishment doing this whole priest thing. It’s what I deserve. Someone caring about me and wanting to be with me? I don’t really deserve that. You know that just as much as I do.”

“Negan,” Gabriel’s voice called out breaking up the conversation between the two of you with Negan looking over his shoulder. Wiggling his fingers at Negan, Gabriel urged him back toward the church and Negan sighed. “Come along. I need to teach you some things.”

“Sure thing boss,” Negan was sarcastic in his response, giving you one final smirk before walking off. When Negan got to the door of the church, he stopped and let out a long sigh. It seemed like he wanted to say something to you, but he couldn’t. Instead of looking back at you, his head slumped forward and he spoked quietly. “Goodbye.”

After that discussion, you stood there for a moment and pondered the things that Negan said. This really didn’t feel like something that Negan wanted. It was more so something he was punishing himself with. You could have gone after him, but you didn’t. You were tired. You needed a shower and you needed to rest. But all night long you thought about Negan. How wildly attracted you were to him and as fucked up as it was, you were extremely turned on by the whole black get up with the white collar he was wearing.

The more you thought about Negan that night, the more enchanted with the idea of Negan you became. And when you woke up in the morning you had a plan to get Negan’s attention. You were given a day off before you had to start helping out around Alexandria, so you were going to take advantage of it.

You made sure to dress in something that brought attention to some of your best assets. Something you knew that the old version of Negan would have liked. And you headed off to the church. You knew that it would have been best for you to stay home and rest. Hell, they were giving you some time off. You should have taken them up on their offer, but all you had on your mind was Negan.

Once you were inside the church, you were surprised with it being empty. Empty except for Negan at the front of it sweeping something up. With how hard they had been working to fix up the church, you assumed that there would be more than just Negan in there.

Clearing your throat managed to get Negan to lift his head up. When his eyes fell upon you, his eyebrows bounced up in surprise. Setting the broom at the back corner of the church, Negan moved across the way to step before you. A weak smile tugged at his lips and his eyes fell to the dip in your shirt that showed off your breasts. Well that was a success.

“Uhm,” Negan spoke uneasily, forcing himself to look away from your breasts. “What are you doing here?”

“You know, after our conversation, I got to thinking last night,” you looked around the church and saw that Negan’s head tipped, his eyes hooked on you when you nodded toward the confessional in the back corner. “It’s been a long time since I did a confession and I was thinking maybe I should do one.”

“Oh, I don’t really do that,” Negan looked over his shoulder, his body shifting uncomfortably like he was looking for someone else. “I’m really just like a priest in training so to speak or some shit. I don’t know. You might want to grab Gabriel and do that if you really want to talk to someone.”

“Well, I’m not really all that religious so we can train together,” you suggested pointing back toward the booth that was there and Negan cleared his throat. “What do you think? You want to give it a try? I can confess my sins to you and you can help…”

“Absolve you of your sins?” Negan finished for you having your smile grow larger over your face and you nodded. Looking around, Negan seemed nervous before he shrugged his shoulders and stepped forward. “I guess we can do that. Gabriel is around here somewhere and he doesn’t have a service for a while. So…why the fuck not.”

“Are you supposed to be talking like that?” you teased him, moving in beside him when his hand pressed in over your lower back to lead you toward the confessional.

“I’m pretty sure someone said swearing makes you closer to God,” Negan spoke up, his head tipping from side to side. “Or some shit like that.”

“That sounds fake,” you noted, stepping before the confessional with Negan. He let out a long, expressive exhale before looking to you. “You should go first. Since you’re the priest and everything.”

“Right,” Negan frowned, moving forward, opening the door to the confessional that was there and when he closed the door you smiled.

Moving into the other side, you heard movement through the screen that was between the two of you showing that Negan was trying to get comfortable. Once you sat down, a warmth surrounded you and you realized that it wasn’t all that comfortable in here.

“Do I just talk through this screen or…?” you were confused how this thing was supposed to go since it had been so long since you even stepped into a church considering the circumstances.

“I don’t fucking know,” Negan pushed at something on the other end before the screen opened and revealed him sitting at the other end. “Maybe this is wrong. Maybe the screen is supposed to stay closed or…”

“Let’s just…do this,” you calmed him, throwing your hands up in the air noticing that he was looking down toward the ground as if trying to give you some privacy to talk about whatever it was you wanted to confess to him. “Bless me, father, for I have sinned…”

Negan was quiet, but it made him smirk and his dimples became more prominent when you started. He was amused. Which was better than him actually taking this seriously, “It’s been a really long fucking time since I’ve done one of these things…”

“I don’t think that’s what you’re supposed to say,” Negan offered and you gave him a glare. Throwing his hands up in the air, Negan shrugged his shoulders and shook his head. “Go ahead my child.”

“God don’t say that,” you snickered hearing him laugh in return before you got even more comfortable where you were sitting. “You see father, I haven’t been a very good girl. For the longest time now I’ve had feelings for this guy that I met. He was a prisoner…” a bit of color flushed into Negan’s face when his dark eyes slowly lifted to meet your stare. “And yesterday I saw him in his priest get up for the first time and I was so very turned on by it. After talking to him, I went home and all I could think about was him. I could barely sleep.”

“What are you doing…” Negan breathed out, his long eyelashes fluttering when you hushed him and shook your head.

“You see father, I kept thinking about his hands. He has the nicest hands and they are so big. At first I thought about him undressing me with those hands. I thought about how long it would take him to caress all over my body. And then I started to touch myself…”

You made sure that Negan was looking at you when you dragged your fingers down over your shoulder, over the center of your breasts before dragging your hand across one of them. It had Negan shifting uncomfortable, licking at his lips.

“The way I wanted him to touch me,” you whispered squeezing and palming at your flesh leaving his lips to part. Nothing came out, but you could tell that you had him hooked. “I thought about his hand traveling lower between my thighs…”

The movement of your hand followed your words with you dragging your palm down over the lengths of your abdomen between your thighs. Pressing your legs further apart, you palmed in over your body purring out causing his breathing to grow louder.

“And then all I could think about was him using his fingers to pleasure me,” you panted, biting down on your bottom lip while your caress continued over your body. “But then I got to thinking about his cock. And how hard it would be straining against his pants. How badly I wanted to take him out of his pants and into my mouth.”

A grunt fell from Negan’s throat and you couldn’t help, but smile seeing the way he looked like he was sweating on the other side of the confessional, “I want nothing more than to have his throbbing cock in my mouth. I want it so bad. And the very idea of it just makes my pussy wet father. Once I get his cock nice and wet, I want him to fill my tight little cunt with his cock and fuck me senseless. I want him to fill my pussy with his cum until it is seeping down my thighs…”

“This is wrong,” Negan went to get up, but you shifted quick, stretching your arm out to curl your fingers around the back of Negan’s neck. Pulling him to you brought his lips to yours. Over and over again you tried to kiss him into temptation. And at first it seemed like he was fighting it, until the flick of your tongue drew his lips to part. Accepting the warm brush of your tongue over his, Negan growled against your flesh and it had your heart hammering away in your chest. “Fuck it…”

Pushing further at the window that kept the two of you separate, Negan managed to grab a hold of you to pull you into his side of the booth with him. You both laughed at the way you struggled to fully get in before Negan fell back into the corner of his side. Once you were firmly on your feet in the cramped space with Negan, your hands palmed up and over Negan’s body hearing him breathing loudly.

“How hard is your cock right now?” you whispered, lowering your palm over the front of his pants to give his body a firm squeeze. It had his hips bouncing forward into your grasp with a proud smile tugging at your lips. “You’re meant to be a daddy figure Negan, not a priest. No matter how fuck hot you look in this.”

Negan was breathing loudly, his hands squeezing at your hips while his lips hovered just over yours, “Your cock is just begging for a release after this long, isn’t it?”

Teasing him, you brought your lips close enough to drag them over his and swiftly worked to open the belt in Negan’s pants. Unhooking it, you undid the button and his zipper, pressing your body up against his with his breathing growing louder. His thick eyebrows furrowed when you started nibbling at his bottom lip. Dipping your hand beneath the material of Negan’s pants had him moaning out when your fingers curled around the warmth of his flesh.

“You’re meant to be a bad boy Negan,” you slurred, working his erection from the confines of the pants that he was wearing. Unhurriedly you started to caress over the length of his manhood, taking your time to watch his reactions while you touched him. “Your cock is too big to waste. You’re meant to breed Negan. Not preach.”

“Breed?” Negan muttered, the vein at the side of his neck bulging when his eyelids grew heavy. “But the people here…”

“The people have no idea what you are capable of and you shouldn’t give a shit what they think,” you urged him, the motions of your hand over his body growing stronger and it had him biting down on his bottom lip. Bringing you two closer together, Negan lowered his hand and it pressed between your thighs touching you in the ways you had wanted for so long. “Good boy.”

Pumping your hand over Negan’s cock, you got a nice throaty moan out of him with his forehead pressing up against yours.

“You have a choice Negan,” you licked your lips hearing him moan faintly under his breath. “Do you want to continue to sweep the floors and be these people’s minion or do you want to put that fat cock of yours inside of me? Because more than anything, I want to fuck you so bad it hurts. My pussy is throbbing just thinking about it…”

“Fuck me,” Negan hissed out, his hands desperately pulling apart your pants so he could make enough room to push his hand beneath the material. It had you stepping up on your toes when he palmed in over the warmth of your flesh. It had his eyelids growing heavier, his breathing louder when his fingertips traced over the length of your sex.

Reaching for Negan’s wrist, you pulled it from your pants and lifted his hands to his lips. Urging him to take his finger between his lips had him groaning out when the taste of you lingered over his tongue. Humming out, Negan dropped his hand and you lowered down to your knees. Instead of the worried glances he had before, a wolfish smile tugged at his lips when you press a wet kiss at the tip of his cock. Dragging your tongue out, you teased at the slit before taking him between your parted lips.

“Fuck,” Negan hummed out, his head dropping back. Both of his hands pressed against the walls of the booth and you took your time to lower your head over the length of him before pulling back. Grasping firmly to the base of his cock, you gradually allowed your movements to grow harder and faster. Wincing out, Negan dropped his hands down with one hooking into your hair and the other caressing at the back of your neck. Starting to thrust his hips up toward your mouth had you gagging with the way his cock hit the back of your throat but you were doing your best to pleasure him while he fucked your mouth. “That’s enough.”

A wet popping sound filled the small booth with Negan pulling you up. Swiftly pushing at the material of your pants, Negan pressed you firmly against the wall of the confessional and reached for his girthy length. Teasing the swollen tip between your slick folds had you purring out.

“Come on daddy, take what you want,” you urged and it had Negan chuckling faintly before working one of your pant legs away from your body. Pressing you against the wall, Negan persuaded your leg around his waist before eagerly sinking into the warmth of your body. The moan he made was loud, there was no hiding it at this point. Holding tightly to Negan, the first thrust of his manhood inside of you was hard and you didn’t want to fall over. Then the next thrust followed suit. “Don’t hold back. Just fuck my pussy as hard as you can. With how long it’s been, I want you to be balls deep inside of me by the time you come and fill me with all that you’ve been holding in.”

“As you wish,” Negan’s nose nuzzled in against yours, his thrusts starting off hard and fast. It had your flesh smacking together while you desperately tried to hold onto him. Your lips met his and you tried to kiss away your cries of pleasure. He was doing exactly as you asked of him. Fucking you hard, fast and it felt so fucking good. The extra added sensation of knowing that this was in a church in a confessional just turned you on all the more. Crying out, you tipped your head back feeling Negan’s hand loosely wrapping around your throat. Once the pressure started to be applied you hummed out in pleasure enjoying the pain that came with it. “God you feel so fucking good.”

Gasping out, you felt Negan tugging at the material of your shirt at the neck. Pulling it down, Negan managed to drop his head low enough to take your breast between his lips. Kissing, sucking and nibbling at the flesh until he had your nipple into a tight peak. Tugging at his hair, you brought his mouth back to yours and dragged your tongue out over his lips.

“I’ve wanted you to fuck me since the first day I met you,” you informed him with a purr, wincing out when Negan’s hips bounced firmly up toward you having him fill you completely with his cock. An amused expression flooded Negan’s face when you shook your head. “You don’t need to be a priest to be close to God Negan…”

Dropping your hands, you tugged at Negan’s black shirt using the strength that you had to rip it open. It had the buttons hitting the ground and an amused rumble fell from Negan’s throat, “All you have to do is be inside of this pussy and it’s yours. It’s all yours…”

“I like the sound of that,” Negan growled as you pushed into the center of his chest to get him to fall back onto the bench. Crawling in over his lap, your nails bit at his chest and he growled out. His hands palmed in over your ass when you took advantage to lower yourself over his throbbing length. “You make a good sell…”

“Don’t get me wrong, you make a hot priest,” you sucked faintly at Negan’s bottom lip, wincing when you allowed him to fill you again. Smacking at his shoulder, you weren’t used to the sensation of this since it had been so long, but you enjoyed the small amounts of pain that came with it. “But I want you to be mine.”

“You want to be mine,” Negan corrected you, his right hand reaching up to grab a hold of your jaw while you bounced your hips over his. Eagerly, his hips matched your movements and you let out a surprised sound at the sound the booth was making with the two of you inside of it. Hovering his lips over yours, Negan smiled and a moan fell from his throat. “I accept.”

“Good boy,” you complimented him, brushing your fingers through his hair to mess it. Adjusting your position, you found a way to move that made both of you louder in the way you expressed your pleasure. Each plunge of his cock into your depths had the two of you crying out in unison. “Come on Father Negan…”

Reaching back, your fingers caressed over his testicles having him hum out at the sensation with his thighs flexing beneath you, “You know you want to come inside of me.”

“So fucking much,” Negan growled, his hazel eyes hooked on yours dropping his hand down between the two of you. Circling the rough pad of his thumb over your clit, Negan was working on your sensitive bundle of nerves having you pant out with every movement you made. Your hips bounced up toward his thumb when you would allow his cock to pull out of your body before you swiftly dropped them back again. “You take that cock so good honey.”

There was a fire building in your belly and you rolled your hips faster over his, desperate to reach a moment of bliss that had been building up for you. With a cry, you threw your head back and Negan hungrily kissed over the side of your neck. Your orgasm hit you hard, but it didn’t give you the time to relax when Negan pressed you slightly back so that you were pressed against the wall opposite of him. Reaching down for your wrists, Negan hooked his fingers firmly around them and started bouncing his hips up toward you over and over again. His testicles smacked up against you with every hard pounding thrust and you couldn’t hide your moans.

“Almost there,” Negan informed you, his jaw tensing and the lines in his forehead growing. By how hard he was holding onto your wrists and with his jaw clenching you could see that his orgasm was quickly approaching.

“Make that pussy yours Negan,” you urged with his thrusts growing even stronger. You knew that you would be feeling this later, but you didn’t care. You wanted this so bad and you were thankful that you were able to make it happen.

Pulling you forward, Negan had you falling in against his chest with your head resting against his shoulder. Squeezing his hands firmly over your ass, Negan continued his thrusts until his groan filled the air and one final thrust upward had you bouncing upward feeling the throbbing of his cock inside of you. Moaning into the side of your neck, Negan stroked his fingers over your hair and you reached back to feel his balls straining while he filled you with line after line of his cum. You both were soaked with sweat. It was like a sauna in this thing, but neither of you seemed to care.

“Is everything okay in here?” the light from the church flooded into the confessional with you gasping out and pulling yourself in closer to Negan after the door was opened. Negan’s hips were still partially bouncing up toward yours with his orgasm and you whined out. The voice you knew too well and you knew that it was Gabriel that had just found the two of you right at the end of your sex act together. “What the hell Negan?”

“Goddamn it,” Negan grunted one final time, biting at your chin when you felt your thighs twitching over Negan. “Gabey boy, you are incredibly bad at timing.”

Negan’s breathing was loud, but you could tell by the sound of his voice that he was amused that Gabe was still there. Stealing a quick look you could tell that Gabriel was shocked and locked into position. Burying your face again had Negan laughing and he wrapped you up in his arms.

“Can we fucking have a minute with God here?” Negan requested and Gabriel shakily reached for the door to close it. It had Negan laughing against the side of your neck and you felt like everything was spinning. “Well that was…”

“Unexpected,” you finished hearing Negan snickering against the side of your neck. Lowering your head, you looked down between the two of you to see Negan’s cock still filling you. Keeping your eyes locked on it, you slowly lifted your hips enjoying the way his cock looked as it slowly left your body. When you reached the tip, it pulled from you with a wet sound and smacked up against his lower abdomen. Whimpering out, you watched some of his cum dripping from your body onto his thighs and you licked your lips.

“Did that feel good?” Negan lowered his hand to rub at your sensitive flesh. It had you whining out and he smiled when two of his fingers pressed inside of you to thrust them into your already highly stimulated body.

“So good,” you replied, meeting his lips in a drawn-out kiss that had him humming against your flesh. “I feel like you’re capable of more though.”

“Is that a challenge?” Negan smirked, looking down at his cock twitching and he growled out.

“That’s me begging you to do your worst,” you alerted him and he smirked. Tipping his head to the side, Negan shook his head and then passionately kissed you. Giving you a minute to gain back your strength, the both of you got dressed to the best of your ability before Negan reached for your hand. Once you moved out of the confessional with Negan, you could see that Gabriel was sitting at one of the benches giving you both a disapproving look.

“Sorry Gabey boy,” Negan reached for the white collar that was in his shirt, tugging it out and tossing it to Gabriel who fumbled with it. “There are some things I won’t give up, even for God. We’re going to my cell so I can actually fuck this beautiful lady right.”

Dropping his hand down, Negan squeezed over himself and you felt a rush of heat flooding into your face, “My crystal balls are telling me that we are going to be so fucking naughty that it’s something your eyes wouldn’t want to see again. These babies are aching after years of not being used, so they are ready to flood this hot little pussy with ready and willing swimmers.”

“God,” you choked out at the expression that Gabriel gave after Negan blurted all of that out.

“Also, there is cum all over that confessional. You might want to clean that up before you even think of using it,” Negan pointed back toward the area that you were in together when he started to lead you toward the door to church.

“Negan!” Gabriel called out to him and you could tell that Gabriel was not happy with how this was ending up.

“Sorry father. I’m on a mission from God here and I’ve got to do this right,” Negan hooked his arm around you, throwing you up over his shoulder and firmly smacking his hand over your bottom. “This whole father thing…it’s just not gonna work for me. I’m sure you understand.”

----

Tags: @slutlanna976 @fuckthis-and-fuckthat @jennydehavilland @pixelb4rbie @ibelongtonegan

@smallsadjellyfish @labyrinthofheartagrams @msjamesmarch @thebeautysurrounds @hotfornegan

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#Negan #Negan fanfiction #Jeffrey Dean Morgan #The Walking Dead #twd fanfiction #Negan x you #negan x reader #negan imagine #Negan Smith #Negan smut #The Walking Dead fanfiction

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barbieaemond · 6 months ago

Text

Religion (sneak peek)

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x wife!reader

Warnings: mild angst, misogyny, pregnancy, childbirth, oral sex, p in v, fingering, orgasm denial, overstimulation, brief lactation kink, breeding kink, manipulation (to get some), some good ol' tying up, slandering of the Gods lol

Author's note: this is the third and final part following And I dream of a grave and A curse for a curse but can be read as a standalone. It will be posted tomorrow!

She looks around briefly; the room is warm, the fire in the hearth is lit, as the candles scattered all around. This is all quite familiar. “These are my old chambers…” she says with a little frown, turning to him.

“Quite the observer, wife.” He drawls, and takes a few steps. His stride is different now. Slow, contemplating, just as his gaze raking over her, as if he in the first place doesn’t know why he brought her here and he’s assessing what to do. A war map unfolding, and he knows where all the faults lie.

“I thought we could spend some time together” he starts, walking past her to go sit near the fire “Alone.” he adds once he leisurely sits down, crossing his long legs and resting his hands on the armrests. “What better place than a vacant room? No one will come looking for us here.”

She tries as hard as she can to stop the little smirk at the corner of her lips; she walks closer, stopping right in front of him, staring down. “They might hear.”

“Hmm. And that is much of a trouble for you, isn’t it?” he asks with the most fake genuine tone, taking a cup from the nearby table, and then “You sucked my cock on a terrace and begged me to fuck you in the Small Council…I thought I told you to quit your act.”

She smiles openly now, watching the wine pouring in the cup, his eye fixed on the liquid as his eyebrow shots up. “Besides, I know exactly what to do to muffle your noises.”

“You should be proud of my noises.”

“I am.” He says, taking a sip of wine, his eye piercing through her above the cup’s brim. “But for once, Aegon is right. I’m not one for sharing.”

His arm moves to put the wine aside but she takes it, only to feel his hand pulling the cup away from her. “You cannot drink.”

“Fine.” She concedes, leaning on him. “I’ll have it my way.”

She holds his face and with her left hand she glides her fingers on the left side, delicately but with purpose, pushing the eyepatch off. And then she kisses him, eagerly, licking his lips and then breaching inside to taste the wine on his tongue, on the roof of his mouth.

She sighs deeply when he locks his tongue with hers, and feels his lips curling.

“Did you hear it?” He says breaking the kiss, breathing into her mouth. “That one is my favorite.”

“Your favorite what?” She asks mindlessly, chasing his lips but to no use, because he tilts his head back, his cursed smirk lingering.

“Noise. It’s a little thing…” he tells her, locking one hand around her neck “in the back of your throat, close to a sigh but not quite…” his fingers trail against her throat, chasing her swallowing “It tells me you’re dying to.”

“To do what?”

“Fall on your knees for me. Be a supplicant.”

She grabs the back of his neck, driving his head close and looks down at his arched mouth “You cannot live without God, can you?” She looks up, her mouth open to breathe “Seven of them seem to have cursed me. I had to find my own.”

His eye widens at that. He looks straight into her eyes, so devoted, so raw. She’s right. The Gods would curse her some more if they saw she looked at him the way she should look at the Gods.

“Then do it.”

“What?”

“Flatteries don’t work on me, sweetling. You should know that.” With his hand on her neck, he slightly pushes her away, putting some distance between them. “You will have to show me.”

“What would you have me do?”

His hands let go of her completely, resting on the armchair. The gemstone glints in blue and yet, it’s nowhere near the bright cursed thing in his eye. “Get on your knees for me. Now.”

She should be ashamed of the pull in her bones, the muscles willing to move on their own accord and fall to the ground. But why, why does it have to be sin? Why can it not be religion?

FULL FIC HERE

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serverusslaype · 1 year ago

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The Yule Ball, pt. 2

Severus Snape x professor!reader one-shot

omg hey yall. sorry i posted this so late, i fell asleep during the day after work because i'm a doughnut. lol, so, here is part two! :) hopefully you enjoy it as much as i did writing it! <3

hope you guys are all well!! make sure you're sleeping enough!

Masterpost

There was a moment of silence before you chose to speak, avoiding Snape's gaze. "Thank you." You sighed softly, your body relaxing as Snape walked with you, his hand still glued to the small of your back. "I didn't really expect you to help me." You added timidly, braving a glimpse at his pale face. His brows knitted together, but you weren't sure whether it was out of confusion or anger.

"Why wouldn't I help you?" Snape questioned rather coldly, making you stand up straighter. He kept his eyes glued straight ahead, but you were busy staring at him.

"Well... you don't seem too fond of me. I just thought...-"

"Thought that I'd let that slimy imbecile have his despicable way with you?" Snape glared at you, his eyes twinkling with irritation. You sucked in a sharp breath, shrinking under his intense stare. "Whether I am 'fond' of someone or not, I will not let such a thing happen, regardless." He huffed, clearly angry. You could feel it through the way he pulled you closer to him - whether it was absent-mindedly or consciously, you weren't sure, but you also weren't complaining. You'd fantasised about this moment for years.

The two of you continued walking until you reached the same spot that you had seen McGonagall, Dumbledore and Snape stood earlier. "Thank you, anyway." You muttered as a lacklustre sigh fell from your lips. "I was afraid that I was going to be stuck with him." Snape's head snapped towards you.

"If I wasn't there, I'm sure someone else would have helped you." Snape said in a softer tone, attempting to settle your mind. You still seemed a little anxious despite having been saved from Karkaroff.

"Maybe," you nodded, shrugging, "but I'm glad it was you." You muttered the last part, earning a head tilt from the professor stood beside you.

"Glad it was me?" He repeated, evidently surprised by your words. Snape's heart skipped a beat, and he suddenly felt a little warm.

"Erm," Your eyes widened and your cheeks burned as you suddenly realised what you had said. "Well, yeah, I doubt anyone else could have scared off Karkaroff like that." You laughed awkwardly, brushing your hair in front of your face to hide your blushing cheeks.

"I'm sure Professor Flitwick would have done a fine job of scaring Karkaroff." Snape muttered amusedly, making you smile.

"Flitwick can be scary." You hummed, holding back a laugh as you avoided Snape's curious eyes. "He's a duelling champion after all."

"Duelling champion or not, I highly doubt Filius could intimidate a man such as Igor." Snape said rather seriously. You frowned to yourself. "Igor doesn't take lightly to such things."

"And you know this how?" You asked, looking up at the Potions Master inquisitively. What he said was rather strange, and it piqued your interest.

"That does not concern you." Snape said flatly, and you groaned in response. A small, amused smile tickled his lips at the noise.

"Of course it doesn't." You sighed. Snape glanced down at you, quirking a brow.

"What a nosy little thing you are." He teased, his smile turning into a wicked smirk. You rolled your eyes at Snape, your cheeks burning up again at his words. Was he flirting with you?

"That I am." You replied, narrowing your eyes at him. Turning your attention back to the dancing students, the music suddenly slowed into a gentle, almost-romantic song. You watched as couples flooded the dancefloor, your heart aching at the sight - you couldn't remember the last time you'd danced with someone like that.

Snape let the silence ensue for a minute or so before he spoke, rolling his shoulders. He glanced down at you, noticing your yearning eyes. "Would you... like to dance?" He asked quietly, inducing a surprised look to cross your features.

"What?" You blinked, snapping your head to look at him.

"Are you familiar with the concept? Dancing?" Snape frowned at you, half of his mouth quirking upwards into a smirk.

"Yes, I am- I'm just... shocked at what you asked."

"You don't think I dance?" Snape cocked a brow, and you stared at him in disbelief. "How ignorant of you, Professor L/N."

"You don't seem like the type-"

"Would you like to dance or not?" Snape huffed, growing tired of your comments. You held back a giggle and nodded, a bashful smile painting your lips as he took your hand and lead you to the floor, whispers and gasps erupting around the two of you.

"People are staring." You whispered, gazing up at Snape as his other hand settled on your waist, the other keeping a secure hold of yours. It felt as if someone had just stolen all of your breath from you as he pulled you a little closer to him; a tiny smirk appearing on his lips as he watched your cheeks become flushed again.

"Let them." Snape replied, his smooth and velvet-like voice sending tingles through your body. You had to cough to compose yourself - there was no way you were letting your little crush slip out right now. As the music resumed, you began to sway, your heart going ten to the dozen as you felt his fingers tighten around your waist. You weren't exactly sure how much more you could take without collapsing onto the floor into a hot mess.

Whilst the two of you swayed to the slow music, you were quietly admiring Snape's pale face, and his pretty features, most specifically his large, aquiline nose - that was one thing that you grew to adore. Not that small noses were bad, but there was something... intriguing about larger noses.

"Something on my face, Professor L/N?" Snape muttered, his eyes twinkling mischievously under the bright lights. Your breath hitched at his sudden question and you looked away, a little embarrassed that you let yourself get caught.

No, but it's missing something, you thought to yourself, swallowing thickly as you shifted your eyes back to his, blinking slowly.

"No," You said quietly, chewing on the inside of your bottom lip nervously. Behind Snape, you caught sight of Karkaroff, who looked positively fuming. "Karkaroff doesn't look too happy." You commented, poking your head past Snape to glimpse at the Bulgarian Headmaster. Karkaroff's eyes were almost burning with jealousy and his vulgar features were twisted into a rather foul-looking scowl as he stared at you and Snape from across the floor.

"Of course he doesn't," Snape drawled, twirling you around, "I saved his next victim." He sneered, his voice soaked with venom. You were a little shocked to say the least, you hadn't seen Snape be so worked up by a singular person before. As you twirled around, you stumbled slightly and Snape quickly caught you with his large hand, placing it upon your waist. Your eyes immediately flicked up to his and you smiled sheepishly, watching as he quirked a brow. "I thought you'd be a little more graceful than this." Snape hummed teasingly.

"I suppose I dance with two left feet." You replied, rolling your eyes at him.

"Oh, I can see that." Snape said sarcastically and chuckled quietly to himself, though you felt the vibration of it through his chest, and you couldn't help but smile. That was the first time you'd heard him genuinely chuckle.

"Wow, I didn't know you could chuckle." You teased him, unable to stop your smile from growing into a grin. Snape rolled his eyes at you and twirled you around again, purposefully to trip you up. You gasped as he did so, your hand landing on his strong chest to steady yourself as you fell into him, and an amused smirk crossed his features as he watched you stumble once more.

"Whoops." Snape hummed playfully, and you scrunched your nose up at him.

"Thanks for that." You sighed, fighting back a smile.

"My pleasure." He said languidly in that deep voice, a shiver sliding down your spine as you stared up at him, your eyes dropping to his smirking lips for a brief moment.

"So," you cleared your throat, forcing your eyes away from his mouth, "how do you know Igor?" You asked, glancing between his shining black eyes.

"I believe I said that didn't concern you." Snape replied, narrowing his eyes at you.

"I was just curious." You mumbled.

"And curiosity killed the cat." Snape said, almost like a warning. If he told you, he'd have to tell you that he used to be a Death Eater, and he'd definitely rather not do that now. Especially when he had you so close to him. Snape also didn't want to watch your eyes fill with fear and hate.

"Alright, I won't pry." You sighed softly, feeling yourself grow a little hot under his intense gaze. "Mind if I get some air?" You asked, and Snape nodded silently, releasing you from his grasp. You poked your head beside him again to spot Karkaroff who looked ready to pounce on you. Shivering uncomfortably, you looked back to Snape. "Will you come with me?"

"Afraid of the dark?" He teased, though he noticed your anxious face, and realised it wasn't the dark that you were afraid of.

"No, just slimy Bulgarian Headmasters." You laughed dryly, though Snape could tell that beneath the joke, you were terrified of being caught alone with Karkaroff. He nodded in response, and placed a hand on the small of your back, leading you out of the Great Hall through a small door and into the corridors. The loud music and raucous laughter began to fade as the two of you walked in the direction of the courtyards.

The cool, almost chilly night air was a drastic change from the muggy one inside the Great Hall, and you definitely felt safer with Snape accompanying you. You were currently sat on a broken stone wall, with Snape stood just behind you, his hands tucked behind his back and underneath the shadows of his black cloak.

"Are you feeling any better?" He asked, his smooth voice penetrating the silence that had fallen upon the two of you.

"A little, yeah," You hummed. "It was getting a little hot in there." You chuckled quietly, turning your body slightly to glance up at him.

"Yes," Snape agreed and shifted his gaze from the nightsky to your twinkling eyes. "I'm surprised you didn't faint underneath that beautiful dress." He said casually, his eyes flicking to the silky material that clung to your curves. Did Snape really just compliment you?

Your eyes widened for a moment, fluttering in shock, "You think my dress is beautiful?" You asked softly, a little smile picking at the corners of your lips.

"Well- yes, I suppose so." Snape stumbled over his words slightly as he averted his eyes from your form and back to the twinkling nightsky.

"Thank you," Your smile widened at his words, and a light blush painted your supple cheeks. "I would offer you a compliment on your outfit, but you always wear the same thing." You teased him, grinning.

"Ha, ha," Snape quirked a brow at you. "Don't tempt me in retrieving Karkaroff." He said sarcastically, and you poked your tongue out at him.

"You wouldn't dare."

"Oh, I would." Snape tilted his head at you, a cheeky smirk playing on his lips.

You laughed softly, "As if. I'm the best company you've had all evening." You said, folding your arms against your chest.

"A goblet of wine would be better company than you." Snape teased, and you rolled your eyes at him. He was lying, of course, but there was nothing better than seeing you smile.

"Oh yeah, so why you were smiling earlier when you were dancing with me?" You copied him and cocked a brow tauntingly.

"Your lack of skill was amusing." Snape shrugged, still staring up at the sky.

"Teach me, then." You said, and his head immediately snapped to you, his eyes widening slightly.

"Teach you?"

"Yes, teach me." You repeated and stood up from the stone wall, slowly walking to him, placing your hands on your hips. "If you're so good, surely you can lend me a hand?" You teased, smiling.

Snape sighed softly, staring at you for a moment, evidently pondering your offer. After a moment or two, he retrieved his hands from behind his back and shuffled towards you, taking a hold of one of your hands and placing his other upon your waist. You settled your opposite hand atop of his shoulder, and you and Snape began to sway together once more, though this time it felt a little more intimate since it was just the two of you and the sparkling nightsky for company. You felt breathless as he tugged you a little closer, his eyes boring into yours as you were mere inches apart.

"Now," Snape muttered, and you felt his hot breath against your reddening face. "When you spin, don't look at the ground." You only nodded in response, not trusting your voice right now.

Snape let go of your waist, but kept hold of your hand and raised it slightly to spin you slowly. As you spun round, you kept your eyes on his, a bashful smile gracing your lips as you managed to keep a steady foot. A grin broke out on your face.

"Now, a little faster." Snape said quietly and spun you around again, though with a quicker pace. You gasped as you tripped, a shiver travelling down your spine as you felt a pair of hands catch your waist; your own hands landing on Snape's chest. Quickly looking up, you swiftly slid your hands from his chest and to his forearms, blushing furiously.

"Sorry," you winced slightly, "I'm not very good at this." You laughed, and surprisingly, a genuine smile broke out on Snape's face.

"No," he said, chuckling, "you're utterly terrible." Your face grew an even deeper shade of red as you glanced away from him, embarrassed once again. Snape felt as if he could melt right then and there, you looked so adorable.

"I suppose it's a good thing I wasn't employed as the Professor of Dancing." You joked awkwardly, smiling up at Snape as he gazed down at you, his eyes softening a tad. You bit the inside of your lip.

"I don't think you'd last a day here if you were." Snape said with a cheeky smile.

"Clearly." You huffed quietly, your fluttering eyes flicking between his deep, distracting black ones. A strand of hair fell in front of your face, and Snape reached a hand up to gently brush it out of your face, the tips of his fingers grazing against your pink cheeks. Your breath hitched at the intimate touch, and almost instinctively, you felt yourself leaning in towards him as he let his hand settle against your cheek; thumb absentmindedly brushing the apple of it.

Snape was entranced by you - the way your luscious hair framed your beautiful face perfectly, the way your eyes twinkled like the stars he was staring at, and the way your adorable cheeks turned a different shade of red each time he looked at you. It was hypnotising, and he felt himself becoming trapped under your spell.

Without thinking, Snape leaned forwards and pressed his lips against yours in a soft kiss, his hand tightening around your waist as he felt you relax underneath his touch. It was as if time had stopped as he kissed you, it felt like only the two of you existed in that very moment - everything else became nothing; obsolete. The only thing that pulled him out of the trance was the sweet noise that slipped from your lips as you kissed him back, your hands flying up to curl around his neck; fingers tickling the nape of it.

As the two of you reluctantly pulled away from each other, you giggled and nudged your nose against his. "I wasn't expecting that." You whispered, unable to contain your grin.

"Nor was I." Snape said breathlessly, smiling as he let his arm wrap greedily around your waist to pull you as close as possible to him. This was definitely not the way Snape thought the way his night was going to go, but Merlin, he was not complaining. It was the perfect ending to a beautiful night.

let me know what you thought if you have a chance! :)

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itsjustrosee · 7 months ago

Note

hiii love, not sure if you’re taking requests for Minho (maze runner) but if you are, could you write one where shy fem reader gets caught in a situation where her shirt accidentally rips up in front of everyone in the glade (you can choose the interesting situation of how that occurs lol) and she is bare, then feels vulnerable cause the gladers start whistling and stuff but Minho immediately takes his shirt off and covers her to protect her.

She feels safe with him and he is protective of her even though they haven’t talk much as she hardly sees him cause he’s a runner- mutual pining ig 🥰. And maybe it could end in some spice hehehe

stop it this is literally such a cute prompt I squealed when I read this. And spice is my specialty so I'm glad you asked me to include that😜. I hope I've done your idea justice!! And yes I am always taking requests and looking for new things to write so honestly ask away!!

PROTECTIVE (Minho x fem!reader (one-shot))

Context: Pre Thomas, look for summary above ^

Warnings: Cursing and spice

Word count: 2.8k (sorry this one was a bit short)

! I proof read but there might still be spelling mistakes !

Being the only girl in the glade was definitely a struggle at times. Obviously Alby had set up rules and regulations for all of the other gladers to follow to try and make you feel as comfortable and welcomed in the glade as possible, but there was only so much he could do. Though no one had tried anything physical with you, you always found a way to overhear hushed conversations regarding you and your body.

However, during your time in the glade you were able to become close with Chuck, Newt, and a few other boys. You could always find yourself laughing and hanging out with them the way they did with everyone else. They never treated you differently just because you were a girl, which is what you had grown to greatly appreciate.

You had been in the glade for a little while. In fact, today had been the 4th month since your arrival, and you knew this because a new greenie ascended from the box this morning.

His reaction getting out of the box was to be expected. He gave the normal theatrics, looking like he was about to have a panic attack, asking question after question, and then actually having a panic attack. But unfortunately he was harder to calm down then most. And being keeper of the medjacks, and baring the title of, 'the caring one' around the glade, it was up to you to calm him down. You didn't mind it though, he was a really sweet kid and he didn't even look to be much older then Chuck.

"I feel bad for the poor greenie." Newt sighed before continuing. "I mean, I feel bad for everyone who has to come down here and deal with the whole 'trapped in a maze' bit, but he's just really young." Newt explained while he plucked a blade of grass from the ground and held it in his hand. You and Newt always tended to come and hang out by the garden whenever neither of you were out working. And because you were finally able to get the new guy to calm down, he was taking a nap on one of the beds in the medhut, and since the medhut had been particularly slow otherwise, you and Newt were able to talk a bit before dinner and the bonfire.

"Yeah, I get what you're saying." You say with an exhale. "It's still difficult to come to terms with this whole thing, even after being here for a few months." Newt gave you a silent nod after you said that and neither of you said anything afterwards.

Newt was always good company. Neither of you had to talk and fill the air with conversation because being silent around each other was almost comforting in a way.

The silence between the both of you had been broken though, when you both saw Minho and the rest of the runners run out of the maze and begin jogging towards you both, probably heading to the maze room. The maze doors began to close, incasing you in glade for yet another night.

As Minho passed you and Newt, he greeted both of you with a wave and continued to jog past you.

Though you have been in the glade for a bit, you and Minho had never really spoken to each other before. Your schedules definitely didn't allow for you guys to talk to each other, considering he was always in the maze and you were always in the medhut. However, there was something about him that totally drew you in, you just didn't know what it was.

"Someone has a crush, huh?" Newt said with a smirk as he turned his head to look at yours. Immediately you turned your attention back to Newt.

Shit you were totally staring at Minho just then.

"A crush? Your talking like a child right now Newt." You say with a bit of an attitude.

"Well it's not like you're denying it." Newt says with a chuckle as he begins to stand up from his sitting position on the ground.

"Oh slim it." You say while rolling your eyes and taking Newts hand as he helped you up so you can both start heading to dinner.

Both you and Newt woke up the greenie and took him to dinner, and the evening continued like any other. Everyone was welcoming of him and it was good to see him laughing and actually talking to people.

Eventually, Gally and a couple others began to set up for the bonfire, so you took the quick opportunity to freshen up in your hut. It was honestly really nice of Alby to force Gally and the other builders to make you one just so you felt like you had enough privacy.

You changed into a pair of shorts and changed out of your tank top. You put on one of your favorite/ only shirts, which was the perfect balance of baggy yet tight on you. It was going to get colder throughout the night so you wanted to have a bit more clothing on, and you also couldn't stand the idea of being in your tank top for another second. Definitely not after sweating your ass off in it the entire day.

You joined up with everyone else and soon the festivities began. Everyone, including yourself, was drinking Gally's very shity brew and of course the greenie almost puked after one sip. Needless to say, the drink was a bit of an acquired taste, but he would get used to it. Gally was playing that stupid wrestling game with the rest of the gladers and everything was going as per usual.

You had found yourself a seat on a bench next to Newt, and you allowed your back to rest on the bench, letting out a sigh as you began to relax. You sat closer to everyone else than where you would normally sit, because you were still trying to keep your eye on the greenie. Minho, Chuck, and a group of about 10 others were sat down with you on surrounding benches. Voices and jokes filled the air and your stomach began to hurt from laughing so much.

It was times like these that mattered most when you were in the glade. It reminded you that though you were all trapped here, at least you were making the best of it. Without this type of structure, you'd bet that even Alby would've gone mad by now.

"Hey I'm going to get another drink, do you mind coming with?" Newt asked me, already up out of his seat and in front of me.

"Yeah sure, I could use another glass anyways." You explained while taking his hand.

All of this would've been fine if your shirt hadn't snagged on a loose nail from the bench.

As newt pulled you up from your seat neither of you had realized what had happened until way too late, the damage was already done by that point. Your shirt wasn't made out of the best material, so the entire thing had completely ripped off of you.

So there you were. Stood in front of an enormous group of boys wearing nothing but your bra, which only provided the bare minimum amount of coverage.

Apparently the rip from your shirt was loud enough to earn the attention of everyone, even Gally's group who was stood further away from you. It took you, along with everyone else, a moment to fully comprehend the situation. And in that moment you would've been more then happy if a griever showed up and swallowed you whole. Nothing compared to the amount of embarrassment you were feeling in that moment. Especially not when you began to hear whistles and laughs from some of the boys.

By this point you had both of your hands covering your chest, and your mind was completely blank. What the hell were you even supposed to do in a situation like this? It would take you ages to live this down, and of course something like this had to happen right when you thought everyone was getting over the fact you were a girl.

Newt stood there staring at you along with everyone else in the group of people who were sitting with you. You could see a couple guys in front of you let out laugh a laugh, which only caused your eyes to well up with tears.

You had never cried in the glade. Not once. You couldn't let yourself.

You didn't cry when you arrived from the box, or even when you were ostracized for being the only girl. But still you couldn't help but feel so utterly humiliated.

Even though it had felt like you stood there on display for hours, it had only been at least five seconds since your shirt had ripped off. Before anyone else could turn their heads to look at you, Minho got up suddenly.

He took his shirt off quickly while walking over to you, and you took your arms away from your chest, allowing him to pull his shirt onto you so you were no longer stood half naked in front of anyone. You were shocked by his gesture. Out of all the people in the glade, you had never thought he would be the one to protect you like this, but you were thanking god he did.

As he stood towering over you for a couple more seconds you couldn't help but take in what he looked like shirtless. And jeez, lets just say all this running he does pays off. He looked like he had been carved out of stone by the gods. His abs looked chiseled on, and you were going absolutely feral for it. In the most respectful way possible though of course.

Half of the glade looked just as shocked as you, and the rest looked disappointed. You heard groans and curses from Gally's group, as if they were annoyed with Minho.

"Oh come on Minho, you really had to ruin it for everyone, huh?" Gally said, and it was obvious that he was already through multiple glasses of his moonshine. His snarky comment was warranted by a couple of snickers and laughs from the other boys sitting with him. Minho turned around to face him and at this point they were stood with a bit of distance between each other, but still not much. And it was safe to say that Minho looked like he was about to maul Gally.

"What did you just say?" Minho questioned, his voice dark and menacing as he began taking steps towards Gally.

"Oh what, you going to defend your girlfriend?" Gally contested while slurring and hiccupping between words, getting in Minho's face as he said it.

"She doesn't have to be my girlfriend for me to treat her like a normal shucking person, Gally." Minho said while firmly standing his ground.

It was quiet for a moment before any other response was made. You and the rest of the glade were just staring at them, and honestly you were thankful that the attention was finally off of you.

If it wasn't for Alby pulling the two boys apart, the night would've ended with someone bloody and bruised, and someone, or both of them, ending up in the pit.

Alby pushed Gally away and grabbed onto Minho's shoulder as he led Minho back over to me. "Minho take (Y/N) back to her hut and get her situated. I'll deal with Gally." Alby says, clearly annoyed with what the night had turned into.

You and Minho both silently began walking back to your hut. You wanted to thank him, you needed to thank him, but you just didn't know how you were going to. As he opened the door to your hut and both of you stepped in, he closed the door and you just stood looking at him. You were still flustered from him being, you know, without a shirt, but you had to compose yourself.

"Thank you Minho. For um- you know, giving me your shirt and stuff." You say while looking at the ground, your cheeks red from embarrassment as you painfully recall the whole situation.

"It was no problem really." Minho said as you looked back up at him.

"Yeah it's just- I don't know what I would've done without you-" And although it sounded cliché, you meant it. Your voice began to break after trying to continue, your words getting caught in your throat. Before you could compose yourself enough to say anything else, Minho brought you into his arms gently, and hugged you. His warm embrace made you feel safe and secure, and immediately your worries washed away as you hugged him harder. You buried your head into his chest and wrapped your arms around his waist and he wrapped his around yours.

You could've stayed like that for hours, but you forced your head away from his chest and looked up at him, staring deep into his eyes and he did the same. There was a thick tension in the air as you felt the temperature in your hut increase.

Minho tucked a piece of your hair back behind your ear, "I'll always be here to protect you." Minho says while giving you a genuine smile, your stomach doing somersaults as you completely folded under his gaze. As your eyes followed his for a moment longer, you noticed them glance at your lips and before you could even process it, he kissed you.

You stood there shocked and bewildered, this night had been an absolute rollercoaster of fucking emotions and you were not prepared for it once so ever.

After not reciprocating the kiss Minho pulled away, "I'm sorry I didn't mean to- I don't want it to seem like I'm taking advantage of you or something- I-" But before he could finish his sentence you kissed him back, your lips merging into his completely, as if you were two magnets that were completely drawn together naturally.

The kiss was passionate yet gentle, and you practically melted into him. You let his tongue explore the inside of your mouth and your lips worked against his in unison. For all you knew, Minho was the first boy you had ever kissed, and you were totally fine with that. You didn't even need to kiss any other boy to know that Minho did it best.

You took one of your hands and kept it on his back, caressing his muscles on his upper back. While your other hand found it's way to his nape and you began to take his hair between your fingers, tugging at them more whenever he kissed you harder.

He kept one of his hands by your waist and the other at your back, trying to bring you as close to him as he possibly could. He held you as if you were the only thing worth holding onto, and he was never willing to let you go.

You could feel the heat radiating off of Minho as he pinned you against one of the walls in your hut next to the door. You were left completely breathless once Minho pulled away, biting at your bottom lip as he then continued to kiss you down your jaw. You could feel him begin to suck at the sensitive part part of skin between your neck and collar bone, causing a small whimper to escape your mouth.

Minho continued to kiss down your collar bone and as low as your shirt's neck line would let him. You could feel his kisses become more sloppy and desperate. It was as if he couldn't wait to get his hands on more of you, and you couldn't wait to give yourself in to him.

You pushed him off and quickly took off your shirt, tossing it to the ground as Minho stared at you. He put his arms around you again and smirked as he began to kiss you, more hungrily this time.

"I'll never let anyone else in the glade see you like this again. I promise." He said between kisses. The sincerity in his voice was prominent.

You could tell that all of what Minho had said was true. If any other boy tried to touch you, or even look at you in the wrong way, he would be there to protect you.

In that moment you had realized that no one would be able to make you feel the way Minho made you feel. He satisfied all of your desires and he fulfilled you in ways you didn't even know were possible. You were everything he wanted, and he was everything you wanted. But more importantly, he made you feel safe, like as long as you were in his arms he would never let anything bad happen to you.

Then suddenly, there was a nock on the door. Then it swung open abruptly.

"Hey um (Y/N), I really wanted to apologize for earlier-" But before Gally could say anything else, he turned his head and saw you and Minho, half naked and pressed against each other.

"Oh shuck- I didn't mean to- I'll leave now." And with that, he was out of the door as quickly as he entered it.

ok guys heres another!! I really hoped that yall liked it. I had quite the fun time writing this and I think it turned out pretty well!

btw I'm going to start working on pt.2 to stranded, and I should have it finished relatively soon, but I've never written smut before so that's going to be quite interesting. But seriously thank you to everyone who wrote nice things under that post you have no idea how much it means to me ❤️❤️

#the maze runner #tmr #minho tmr x reader #minho the maze runner #minho tmr #x reader #tmr fandom #tmr fanfic #minho fic

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you-call-it-a-dude · 4 months ago

Text

Just Can't Hack It Pt.2

Pt.1

Request: so this is part two to a story. The original request was reader dealing with substance use. I had a few folks wanting another part and I was feeling inspired to add a second part so I did!

Pairings: Leighton Murray x female reader

Warnings: TW!!! I would say this one is more triggering than the first. Mentions of opioid use, accidental overdose, use of narcan/naloxone, difficult discussions around the topic of addiction, needles. This is a super heavy story. Read with caution, take a step back if it's not for you. I have many other stories you can check out if you want something more light hearted. Nobody dies, but it's a pretty realistic scenario about addiction/loving someone with addiction. Could be triggering in many ways, so please be aware.

Authors Note: here I go again adding more chapters to stories I've been saying imma leave as one shots lol. This story is super depressing, I'm so sorry. If you're into that tho, welcome lol. I apologize for my lack of posting. Ive had a lot of life changes happen recently and my mental health hasn't been the greatest (maybe writing this depressing ass chapter will help). I do want to clarify, I am not a drug user. Just a social worker that reads, does research lol. Thank you all for your patience, thank you so everyone that's read my other work while waiting for me to post again. I love you all. I love you for reading, for sharing opinions and engaging in discussions with me and I love you for existing. I hope you like this next chapter

**if you have any questions regarding Narcan/Naloxone, fentanyl test strips, or anything like that, feel free to reach out**

----

You woke up with a loud gasp, some random girl rubbing circles on your sternum. You rushed to sit forward, accidentally shoving her back.

The air was flowing back into your lungs and you felt like you couldn't get it in there quick enough. Your teeth were chattering and you were in that same fucking basement DJ died in.

You grab her wrist with shaky hands and she talked to you calmly, asking you if you were okay and all you could do was shake your head no. Your chest was heaving and it felt like you were inhaling razor blades or something.

What the fuck?

"Sit up slow." She tells you, helping you sit up and you notice her hands are also shaking. "You should probably go to the emergency room." She tells you and you're confused because you don't know why.

"Did something happen?" You ask, your throat dry. You cough to clear it and when you reach forward to grab a cup of whatever off the table, you see an oddly shaped object discarded on the table. You pick it up, your hands still shaking and you run your thumb over the pink 'Narcan' written on the label "Fuck." You whisper to yourself. "Fuck, did...?" You turn your attention to her and she kind of just shrugs.

"I'm not sure honestly. Maybe? But I didn't think it could hurt. You didn't look great, like at all."

You continue to stare down at the small nasal spray, your hands still shaking like never before. You blinked hard a few times, trying to wrap your head around everything.

"I'm so sorry." You apologized to this stranger for most likely traumatizing the fuck out of her.

"Do you have someone to call? You probably need to go to the emergency room." She ignored your apology and something about that made you feel like shit.

"Emergency room? What? That stuff worked. I'm fine." You say, tossing the bottle back onto the table.

"Yeah, but it wears off in like thirty minutes, more or less." She points out.

"Wears off?!" You ask in shock and she nods at you, looking at you like you were stupid.

"And I'm not using my other one on you so I suggest you go." She said with a slight attitude, no longer giving off that friendly vibe she had before. "And maybe get your own for next time, yeah?"

"Fine, Jesus." You say, no longer feeling as indebted to her the more bitchy she got toward you.

You take a few moments to gather yourself, still feeling not the greatest. The girl next to you that potentially saved your life was now injecting something between her toes and if that wasn't enough motivation to get the fuck up and go, you don't know what is.

You grab your things and thank her again. Unsurprisingly, she doesn't say anything back.

Your legs feel weak and shaky. Getting up the stairs and out of the house took way more effort than it should've. You hated this fucking place and you felt disgusting for even coming back.

Your intention was to take an Uber to the emergency room on campus, but when you checked your bank account you were almost certain a ride request wouldn't even go through.

You physically just felt too weak to stand so you sat on the curb, knowing you were going to have to call Leighton and just fucking hated yourself for it.

You pulled out the pills you had taken from your pocket and investigated them. You got them from Liza instead of your normal dealer. She told you they would be exactly the same pills you were used to buying from Angel, just less expensive. Your lack of funds sold you on them immediately. Except now that you actually took the time to study them, you realize they looked nothing like the other ones.

You had no idea what you took.

What you do know is you took two of them at once. It was less than what you normally would've taken. You can't even remember why you decided to only take two instead of your usual four, but clearly sober you was looking out.

Well...semi-sober you.

You called Leighton and it took three tries for her to answer. She was mad at you again because you bailed on her the other night on dinner plans that you made.

"Hello?" She finally answered. You could hear laughter in the background so you knew she was out with friends or out doing something and it made you feel even worse to ask her for help.

"Hi, Leight." You say softly, pushing your fingertips into your eyes trying to build up the courage to ask her. "Can you help me, please?"

"Help you?" She sounds concerned and you hear a door close behind her, all of the noise fading away. "What's going on?"

"I need-I need, fuck!" You try, the words feeling almost impossible to get out. "I need to go to the emergency room, I think." You finally get out, blinking hard to keep your brain working.

"Emergency room? What's going on? Where are you?"

"Please, Leighton. I'm at the blue house on the edge of campus. You know the one." You rub your palm against your forehead. "Can you please just come get me."

"Yeah. I know the one." Of course she did. Everyone knows the blue fucking house. It's literally nicknamed the druggie house on campus. There's only one reason people went there. Her voice sounded monotone and she was definitely connecting some dots. "I'm coming, I'm not far away." She hangs up on you before you can even tell her goodbye and you just feel her disappointment radiating through the phone.

It was less than ten minutes when you saw a familiar car pull up.

Leighton stepped out of the passenger side and as soon as the door closed, the window was rolling down to reveal Whitney in the drivers seat.

"Are you kidding me, Leighton." You complained as she rushed over to help you.

"Shut up." Whitney said from the driver's side, rolling her eyes at you.

"Fuck you!" You spat at her, letting Leighton help pull you to your feet.

"No, fuck you! What the hell is wrong with you?" You stayed silent because you didn't have an answer to her question. "That's what I fucking thought. Now get in the car."

Leighton sat in the back with you, letting you lay your head on her lap. She hasn't said a single word to you since she picked you up and you don't know if it was the drugs or the anxiety caused by her silence that was making your heart race the way it was.

Your body was sore and your head ached. You turned so you could bury your face in her sweater, inhaling the smell of her. She massaged your scalp, pulling you closer to her body.

Whitney dropped you both off at the front door and said to call her when you needed to be picked up. She sounded a lot nicer now, but she was also talking to Leighton.

You weren't feeling great at all and you definitely had the fear that whatever dosage that girl gave you was wearing off and you were going to die in the waiting room of this fucking hospital.

Leighton helped bring you to the front desk. You declined her offer of a wheelchair because something about that just felt degrading. Having to have her push you because of something you did to yourself?

Falling to the ground and crawling would be less embarrassing.

The woman at the desk greeted you and asked what was going on and you hesitated. Because even though Leighton probably figured shit out by now, you never said it out loud.

Saying it out loud would finally be admitting that you had a problem, which is why you've avoided it for so long.

"I-um-I-" both Leighton and the lady at the desk with the patience of a saint watch you fiddle nervously with the pen attached to a chain. "I am not feeling too great. I was given narcan maybe thirty minutes ago." You were blinking rapidly trying to get through your sentence, the fluorescent lighting and the pounding headache was making your brain short circuit.

The lady at the desk sat up quickly, asking you for your ID and insurance card, asking someone behind her to call for a nurse. You pulled your wallet from your pocket and Leighton had to help you pull the cards out because your hands were shaking and you just couldn't do it.

A male nurse appeared out of nowhere with a rolling blood pressure cuff and asked you to follow him to the triage area.

"What about my stuff?" You ask, letting this man escort you to a little area.

"I've got it, baby." Leighton said calmly, a few steps behind you, shoving your ID back into your wallet that she was still holding.

You sat down in a chair with your feet planted firmly on the floor like instructed and you felt like this firm wooden chair was consuming you.

He slipped the blood pressure cuff on your arm, the stethoscope planted firmly in the center of your arm. His eyes never left you while he asked you some questions.

"Do you know how many doses of the narcan you received?"

"Just one." You say and he nods.

"What did you take?" He asks, making eye contact with you and waiting for your response.

You swallowed and looked up at Leighton, who was waiting at you expectantly to answer.

"I don't know. It wasn't from my usual person. My friend that got it for me said it would be the same and it wasn't. I took less than what I normally would." You admit and it sounds embarrassing to even say something like that. You just hope he doesn't ask you-

"How much do you normally take? How much did you take of these?"

"Um, four to five 10mg Percocet. I only took two of these."

"Okay." He nods and the machine starts to beep. He removes the cuff from your arm and motions to someone behind you. "We are going to take you back now, okay? Your blood pressure is too low." He said while he and Leighton help you stand up and you were mortified to find them leading you to a wheelchair.

"Yeah, okay." You nod and when you sit you look back between Leighton and the nurse with a panicked expression. "Can she come back with me?"

"Of course." He takes hold of the wheelchair and takes you to a double door, pressing the button and leading you and Leighton through a maze of curtained rooms before bringing you to an open bed.

As soon as your butt hit that bed, two nurses were rushing in one was hooking you up to different machines and pulling down your shirt to stick electrodes on your chest to monitor your heart.

Before you could even process anything, your bed was being lowered and you were laying flat on your back and the second nurse was giving you a second dose of narcan up your nostrils while the first nurse finally explained to you and Leighton what the fuck was going on.

She said that narcan is usually done in two or more doses and that it often wears off before the effects of the pills do. That because you only received one dose, you were already showing the signs of the first dose wearing off and going into another potential overdose.

You didn't even have time to panic or freak out. They had the narcan up your nose and had you sitting back up like it never even happened. Leighton nodding with wide eyes from the chair next to you and trying to absorb what the nurse was saying.

You gripped the bridge of your nose and squinted your eyes while the nurse finished speaking, already starting to feel better.

"We are going to keep you here for a couple of hours just for monitoring." She rolls a little tray over to your bed that has a needle, test tubes, and a tourniquet. All the makings for getting your blood drawn. "We are required to do a toxicology screening on you, especially since you do not know what you took." She slips on a new pair of gloves. "These results will not be shared with the university." She reassured when she saw your face drop. "Arm out."

She cleaned your arm with an alcohol pad and tied the elastic tourniquet around your arm, pressing on your veins to find a vein. She inserts the needle in your arm and you watch the multiple vials fill up. She removes the tourniquet, has you hold a cotton ball where the needle went in and slaps a bandaid over it. She cleans up the area and says she'll be back shortly and walks out without saying another word.

Leighton had been silent the entire time. She was holding your things and sitting on the chair next to your bed watching the monitor with all off your vitals. Her eyes looked glassed over and you didn't know what to say or how to even begin to say it.

"Thanks for coming with me." You say pitifully and her eyes dart from the monitor to look over at you.

"I feel so stupid." She says, shaking her head. "Everything is like, making sense now, you know? The missed dates, the weird behavior, the angry outbursts." She nods her head, almost like she was agreeing with her own thoughts.

"I'm so sorry."

"And then you take shit that you don't even know what it is and- and you fucking overdose? What if you fucking died, Y/N?" She sounds so angry, but you can see she's on the verge of tears. You reach for her, touching her arm and she yanks herself away from you. "Don't fucking touch me."

"Then fucking go if you don't want to stay." You say, staring up at the ceiling, blinking back tears.

"Stop."

"I should've just let myself die on the curb of that stupid fucking house." You slammed your head against the pillow, the machines beeping like crazy for a brief moment.

"Can you just shut the fuck up with that self deprecating shit?" She spits, crossing her arms and legs.

She's very closed off and distant now. It almost felt like you could feel her distancing herself from you in real time. There's an awkward silence between the two of you and you reach for her.

"Leighton..."

"Mmmh mmmh." She shakes her head no, keeping her attention focused on her phone

"Baby." You try again and when her fingers pause over the phone screen you know you're getting somewhere. "Please, baby."

She rolls her eyes and sighs, giving you her attention.

"What."

"I'm really sorry." You say sincerely, playing with the edge of the flimsy hospital blanket.

"For...?" There was no hint of emotion to her voice. But in scenarios like this, Leighton was always good at shutting down and putting her walls up.

"For how I've been treating you. For a lot of things."

"If that's all you're going to say, that's a really shitty fucking apology."

"No! Of course that's not all. I-fuck. Okay. Just give me a second to collect my thoughts."

"Well, maybe if you weren't high on god knows what you'd be able to give me a less pathetic apology."

Maybe it was your high wearing off, maybe it was just the drugs in general, but man for the briefest moment you wanted to cuss her out.

You clench your jaw and exhale through your nose in an attempt to remain calm.

"If you let me fucking finish talking maybe you'll be more than the pathetic apology." You say through gritted teeth and she just raises her eyebrows at you expectantly. "I fucked up, okay? I know that. I didn't mean for it to get this bad." You admit and she tilts her head, her gaze visibly softening.

"What do you mean?" She scoots the hospital chair closer to your bed.

"I got the meds originally when I messed up my knee. It freaked me out about if I would get to play again or not. When I got back into it, it was great, but I fucking sucked and there was this insane amount of pressure to be as good as I was before my injury. There still is that pressure. My knee just felt tight all the time. Like it was about to snap at any moment. I did the physical therapy, the ice baths, I did everything. Well, everything but admit that maybe it's just straight up fucked." You look down and begin to pick at on your fingertips. Leighton reaches forward to stop you and instead you press your thumb against one of her manicured nails, enjoying the feeling of the pinpricking pressure against your fingertip.

"Keep going, baby." She encourages softly and you could feel yourself relax.

"I refilled my final prescription for my meds right before I started playing again. I would ration the bottle and take them after games and stuff. Then I took them during a game and realized I could play pretty damn good and my leg felt fantastic. Well, until afterwards when it felt worse than ever. Turns out if you take meds to prevent pain, it's really difficult to gauge when you're pushing yourself too far. So I would take some meds before the game, during the game, then again after the games..." Leighton opens her mouth to speak, but you continue with your thought. "...And then one or two more before bed."

"Jesus Christ, Y/N." She says, sounding both shocked and horrified. "I don't even...how long-how many? I don't know! I'm trying not to ask my question without sounding like a dick." She admits and looks to you for some guidance.

You don't know her exact question, but you can guess where she was going with it.

"It was supposed to be refill that lasted three months and finished it in like a month. Maybe a month in a half if I want to be generous. They were a low-ish doses, so I would take more."

"How many were you supposed to take a day? How many did you take?" She asked her questions in a quick succession.

"I was supposed to take one, max two, a day." She nodded and raised her eyebrows expectantly. "I was taking like four to six."

"I-what?! You know what," she takes a deep breath to calm herself down. "Let me approach this in a non-judgmental way. I just, I really want to know what happened to escalate the situation and bring us where we are now." She squeezes your hand reassuringly.

"So my prescription runs out and I find a connect when I go to one of the parties at the blue house. I got pills from him for a while, but you would not believe how expensive opioids are." You tried to joke, only when you looked up to see Leighton was not laughing, not even cracking a smile, you quickly cleared your throat and got serious. "After DJ died in the house, I starting using more and it was just getting more expe-"

"Wait what? The guy that overdosed in the house, you were his friend?"

"I, well, yes. But I was also...there. I called the ambulance when I found him." You could feel everything else coming out like word vomit. "I introduced him to Liza, who introduced him to drugs." You clenched your jaw, trying to swallow down the breakdown you've been keeping at bay for over a month now. "I killed him, Leighton. It's my fault he's dead." You look up at her tearfully and when Leighton frowns and calls you 'baby', you fucking lose it.

She stands up and pulls your face from your hands. The machines attached to you are beeping rapidly for who knows what fucking reason and it was pissing you off.

"Get these off of me." You say mid sob, attempting to pull the electrodes of your chest, yanking at the wires and your shirt blindly. "Get these fucking off!"

Leighton was fighting your arms at this point, doing her best to keep your arms still. Your brain could comprehend that you were smacking her unintentionally, hitting her arms, her hands, and her chest. You felt like your body was stuck between fight and flight right now. You felt out of control in every aspect, mentally and physically. You wanted to stop, you wanted to calm down, you just literally could not.

Within seconds two nurses came in and Leighton held your arms until one of the nurses took her place. Her absence felt more upsetting and agitating, so you attempted to reach for her. Your throat felt raw from crying and now you were screaming for Leighton, begging her to help you.

You gripped a nurses arm tightly, your face smushed against her scrubs while you watched Leighton's horrified expression as the two nurses turned you on your side. One of them pulled your pants down on one side and inject a tranquilizer into your ass cheek.

You gasped and squeezed the nurses arm, mortified about what happened and that it happened in front of Leighton. You were also both shocked and impressed at how quickly your heart rate was going down.

You also felt absolutely terrible for the tears and snot you were getting on this poor nurse's scrubs. Going back and forth between pitifully apologizing to her and to Leighton while the meds kicked in.

You could feel your arms getting heavy and the nurses began to lay you on your back again. The one you were gripping for dear life was covering you with a blanket and you can over hear the one that injected your ass trying to talk Leighton through what she just witnessed.

Something about it being normal behavior when coming off a lot of drugs so suddenly. You don't fucking know.

What you do know is Leighton looked pale and traumatized and that it was absolutely your fucking fault.

You reached for her. Desperately trying to tell her that you loved her. That you're in love with her and that you were so fucking sorry.

She looked at you confused, holding your hand and telling you she couldn't understand what you were saying. You could feel yourself getting riled up mentally, but your body felt stuck. Like gum to the bottom of a fucking shoe you were stuck and locked into this bed.

The nurses left and she pulled her chair close to your bed again, her hand never letting go of yours while she did. She sat in front of you, calling you baby, pushing hair from your face, and telling you that it was okay and to just close your eyes for a little bit.

You moaned and whined, tears sliding down your cheeks. They matched the ones streaming down Leighton's and you wanted you kiss them away. Instead she wiped your tears and begged you not to cry, her lips pressed against the side of your head.

You closed your eyes, Leighton's lips against your temple while she whispered calming things in your ear.

---

You woke up confused. You had a hospital gown on over your shirt and pants, and you were also pretty sure you were in a different room.

"Water?" You croak, your mouth dryer than nothing you have ever experienced before.

"Here." Came a voice next to you that was most definitely not Leighton.

You turn your head to the side to see Whitney holding a styrofoam cup with a straw and you push yourself to sit up straight, blinking and wiping away the dried up tears and sleep gunk from your eyes.

You hesitate at first, but you take the cup from her. You drink the cool ice water down like your life depended on it.

"Thank you." You tell her when you finished drinking, breathing heavily like a toddler after they downed some juice. You look around the room for any signs of Leighton, finding none. You try not to panic, but the machine measuring your hate rate gives you away.

"She'll be back. I sent her home a bit ago to change into different clothes and get something to eat." Whitney informs you, setting the water on the little table. She stands up and goes to the sink, wetting a small stack of those thin paper towels with warm water and wiping your face and mouth. You could feel your dried spit and snot come off with ease. You closed your eyes while she wiped your face, too tired to feel embarrassed. "Better?" She asks you, patting your face with a dry paper towel when she was done.

You nod your head yes, settling further into the bed.

"How long was I out?" You stare at the analog clock on the wall, but it doesn't help much since you didn't even know the time you came in or were knocked out at.

"Maybe seven hours? It's been a while. They said it could range from like six to twelve hours." You nod, staring at your covered feet. You can feel yourself checking out mentally, but Whitney talking again brings you back to earth. "Leighton filled me in, I hope that's okay."

"Mhmm, yeah." You shrugged and nodded, trying to hide your shame over the fact that another person knows this about you now.

"Why didn't you say anything to anyone?" She was soft with her approach, but there was a thin layer of assertiveness underneath.

"Well, Whitney, the thing about having a drug problem is you don't really fucking realize you have a drug problem until you end up in a hospital and get a needle shoved into your ass cheek. Or, maybe it's when a girl that injects meth between her toes gets pissy for using her Narcan on you. Gee, I just can't decide." You say sarcastically and Whitney's face hardens slightly.

"Okay, I get it." She says defensively, sitting back in the chair to lean away from you. You sigh and attempt to run a hand through your hair, but it's all matted and sweaty.

"Sorry, I'm sorry." You say quietly. "I thought I had a handle on it, okay? I didn't think it was a problem." You admit, nodding your head as you thought to yourself. "Clearly." You vaguely gesture to yourself laid up in a hospital bed and Whitney nods.

"Everything is starting to make sense though. Your behaviors, your angry outbursts, the way you treated Leighton."

You wince at that last one. You treated her horribly the last like eight months and you knew that.

It was such a weird feeling. To love someone so deeply and be unable to stop yourself from absolutely wrecking them and treating them like shit.

"Yeah, I've been told already things are adding up. Glad I could provide some clarity." You give her a tight lipped smile and a weak thumbs up.

"You're awake!"

You look up to see Leighton coming into the room, a little visitor badge pinned to her hoodie. You nod, looking up at her with a smile. Your eyes start to water, something about seeing her just hitting you with the overwhelming urge to cry because you were so fucking happy she came back.

You open your arms for her and she sets her purse down to rush to your side and give you a hug. You wrap your arms around her and hold her tightly, pressing your lips wherever you could.

A knock at the door caused her to pull away. She took the extra seat on the other side of your bed as the doctor came in and greeted you, washing his hands.

He did an overall exam on you. Checked your mouth, your eyes, listening to your heart and lungs. He pulled his stool up to your bed and rested a folder of paperwork by your feet.

"So, we got your blood results back. It's routine to drug test in these situations. The school will not be informed of the results." He reassured you like the nurse did previously. "Now," he opens the packet of papers to a specific page where numbers are highlighted. "You have a decent amount in your system. I'm sure that's something you're aware of." You nod and he continues. "We do not think you overdosed on the pills themselves. Not to say that means you should go out and keep slamming them back."

The three of you made a face at him, unsure if his comment was meant to lighten the mood or if he was just a dick.

"So what's the problem then?" Whitney speaks up and he clears his throat.

"Well, you have a dangerous amount of fentanyl in your system. Whatever you took was most likely laced. Had you taken the four pills you said you normally took, you would probably be dead. Here are some packets about fentanyl as well as some inpatient and outpatient treatments for opioid addiction, and some information about methadone." He sets about five pamphlets in the open space between your legs and stands up, pushing his chair back in. "The nurse is going to come in with your discharge paperwork. Schedule an appointment with your PCP. Have a good day ladies." He sanitizes his hands and leaves the room, leaving the three of you looking confused and dumbfounded.

"That was it?" Leighton asks after he leaves, clearly frustrated. She reaches forward and grabs the pamphlets off your legs and thumbs through them furiously. "You almost fucking die apparently and that's it? You go the fuck home? What the fuck."

"Leighton, please stop." You say calmly, but she was pacing the room now while she read.

"This methadone seems good. I can call my dad and get you into a good rehab. Inpatient or out." She says while reading through the pamphlets and you start feeling overwhelmed.

Of course you wanted to be better and to stop taking the pills.

But the thought of actually doing it scared the shit out of you.

"Can I please just go home first and figure this out later?" You ask, scratching your eyebrow.

"Yes," Whitney says and looks up and Leighton sternly. "Yes, you can." She says, answering for Leighton.

"I have one request." Leighton says, shoving the pamphlets into her purse before sitting at the edge of your bed. "Please stay with us for a bit. A few days, a week. However long. Just please do it, okay?"

You nodded your head. You knew you scared her, no, fucking traumatized her. She was looking at you right now like she wanted to cry. Like if you told her no she would probably burst into tears.

You couldn't tell her no. You couldn't do this to her again. You definitely couldn't do anything to risk losing her.

"Yes, I'll stay with you. Can I stop at my room at get some clothes?"

"Absolutely. Can I go in with you when you do?"

You hesitated. You thought about the state of your side of the room. You definitely weren't as clean as you used to be. You most definitely had been slacking on doing your laundry and the thought of her going in there and seeing your gross, crusty underwear made you want to flip.

You still agreed though and she kissed your cheek. She went to kiss your lips and you turned your head.

"My mouth feels disgusting. More kissing later?"

"Deal." She nods, sneaking a quick peck onto your lips anyway.

There was a knock on the door and a nurse stepped in holding some paperwork.

"Alrighty, Y/N. Let's get you outta here, hun."

---

You rushed into your dorm, quickly picking up dirty clothes from the floor and tossing them in your hamper, picking up trash and shoving it aside.

"Sorry, I'm sorry." You apologize profusely for the state of your room.

"No, don't. It's okay." Leighton says, taking in the space.

She hadn't been allowed into your room for a while. Usually when she would come over it would be spotless and smell like air fresher. It was a complete 180 from what she was used to.

You could almost see her absorbing in the gravity of your addiction. As if almost OD'ing on laced pills, blowing off her dates, and having frequent mood swings weren't enough. She was getting a first hand view of how little you had been taking care of yourself because of it.

Something about that felt more shameful than anything. You felt vulnerable and exposed. You had been caught putting on a show and now all the curtains were being pulled back to expose the complex layers of your addiction. Exposing problems that you didn't even realize were becoming problems until someone you love is watching you scramble to clean it up.

"I just need to get some clean clothes." You say, opening your drawers and finding them to be pretty bare. "Fuck." You whisper to yourself.

"Why don't you bring some dirty clothes with you and we can do laundry at my dorm. Okay, baby?"

"Um, y-yeah." You blink hard, slamming your drawer shut. You open another and are thankful to find a handful of clean underwear. You pull them out and shove them into the bag Leighton had set on your bed. "Can you get me some shirts from my closet? I'll gather my dirty clothes."

"Of course." She turns around to look through your closet.

You grabbed a garbage bag and began picking clothes off the floor, plucking clothes from your hamper and other various surfaces around the room, shoving them into the trash bag. When a bunch of change falls out of one of your pockets you sigh, going back into the bag and digging through the pockets of any pants and shorts you shoved in there to make sure those were empty before you continued.

You picked up a pair of sweatpants, digging your hand into the pocket and freezing when you felt something sharp-ish poke your fingertips.

It was almost like you could hear angels singing when you pull the item from your pocket. A small baggie with three little blue pills in it. Three pills that you most definitely recognized and knew they would be safe. You traced your thumb over them, licking your lips.

"Do you want this sweater, babe?" Leighton asks from the closet behind you and you briefly turn around to face her.

"Yes, that's perfect, baby." You tell her. You weren't even looking at the sweater.

You had look at her face. Feeling guilty about everything that went down. Feeling guilty about all the time and energy she was probably going to put in to taking care of you.

You knew the best thing to do right now would be to hand the pills over. It would be the responsible thing.

You wanted to be responsible.

You grip the small baggie in your hand tightly and scratch under your nose with the back of your hand, thinking of the way you were going to hand the baggie over.

You open your palm again to stare at the pills, your hand shaking. You look around the room one more time, turning to smile at Leighton while she had a few shirts and sweaters draped over her arm for you.

You wanted to be responsible, just maybe not today.

You clear your throat, shoving the pills into the deepest corner of your front pocket.

#leighton murray x reader #leighton murray x you #my fic

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ipegchangbin · 2 years ago

Text

— smudgeproof

sub!model!felix x dom!makeup artist!reader

There’s a new lipstick that claims to be make-out-proof. You, with your makeup expertise, naturally decide to test it on your model boyfriend, Felix: except he’s the one that gets to wear it.

🏷 gender neutral afab reader (they/them pronouns, no specifics), smut, fluff, some humor, established relationship, porn with barely any plot.

🏷 petnames “mommy” and “baby girl,” unprotected sex, feminization kink, slight oral and hand fixation, marking, butt plug (felix using), thigh riding, fingering (felix receiving), overstimulation, male squirting, lots of teasing, voyeurism mention, no specifics about y/n’s physique.

w/c: 8.8k

a/n: happy (hopefully not late) valentine’s day! to celebrate, i finally present to you the long overdue felix-gets-fucked fic! based on my thought piece, this concept has been on my mind ever since. i kept rewriting this fic but i drew the header art so fast LMAO icb i finished it!! otherwise, enjoy!

18+ only. minors do not interact.

On slow days, you would often find yourself bored in the makeup store. Your boyfriend, Lee Felix, would probably be just as bored, sitting in the chair of his set. Your notifications were as empty as the barren shop.

After two aimless scrolls down your Instagram feed, you realized that you hadn’t posted anything recently and hadn’t texted Felix that day.

The afternoon sun brought in waves of humid air throughout the city, setting everyone back from a trip around the shops. You peered over at the conversation with your boyfriend as you thought about ways to kill time.

It wasn’t uncommon to go for a while without contacting each other. It had been years since you two became official, after all, and comfortable silence had become a given that you both simply indulged in. That didn’t take your mind off of the boredom, though, and your fingers itched to do something. They found Felix’s contact on your phone, bedazzled with an embarrassing nickname and profile picture.

It stung to think that if you weren’t looking at his endearing profile, you would instead settle for some sort of creeping guilt of not posting anything on your social media page after a while. Either way, you shot him a message.

you: lix, wya? you: im bored as hell

Considering Felix’s work as a professional model, he would probably reply in less than ten minutes. You thought to turn your phone off and play with the freshly-cleaned makeup brushes on the makeup store’s vanity counter while waiting.

But this is Lee Felix, the sunshine of your days, and you didn’t have to wait any longer than two seconds.

lixie: Am at the shoot I told u about lixie: Bored too tbh LOL

Even if he typed in a silly way, you couldn’t help but love him.

He’d always been your go-to person to unwind and be yourself around. Starting as best friends gave you both a jumpstart to be comfortable around the other. People would say it worked a little too well especially since you two had become the most seriously unserious couple in the creative industry.

That fact made him understand you more than anyone else: you were both creatives. Your heart belonged to the artistic liberties of makeup and beauty, while his heart belonged to the ethereal realm of modeling and fashion. Your two hearts found each other, which was almost perfect for the adjacent businesses. He collaborated with you on makeup challenges. You came to his sets as his “preferred makeup artist.” He understood you whenever you ranted about stupid trends and declining engagement in your channels.

With that, could tell him about your uneventful day and equally uneventful social media pages, but you refrained from complaining more than dropping a passing mention.

you: idrk what to do there are no customers you: and i havent posted anything new you: but its not like theres much to do lixie: Well you’re the genius one here! lixie: Got art block or something?

The prompt response caught you off guard. Almost as if you have forgotten, this was Felix, and he always sensed whenever something was wrong.

As if he had some sort of radar or emotion detector, he always just knew how you were. Maybe it had to do with the fact that he had always been in the proximity of your face, observing your concentration as you put eyeliner on him before shooting. Maybe that connection stuck with him after years of being together, and it had remained strong to the point that he could feel it from miles away, staring emptily into the face of some other random MUA.

Alas, you found yourself overthinking again. You would rather overthink about your relationship than your semi-abandoned creative efforts, though.

you: well i guess you can call it that. im just conscious since i havent really posted you: idk what to do next. ive done everything lixie: How about, “Boyfriend does my makeup drunk edition”? :D you: boring ! lixie: “Makeup tut but bf does my voiceover”? :D you: just because it got views doesnt mean its worth doing a fifth time >:(( lixie: I’m kidding LOL

The scowl on your face reflected on the mirror sitting in front of you. You knew that if only Felix saw it right now, he would have lost his mind trying to turn it upside down.

You were right though. You two did everything.

My boyfriend does my makeup? Done, and he did an okay job at it. “The boy beat” makeup tutorial featuring Felix? Damn right he did. Boyfriend does my voiceover? It was so good that you guys did it four times and everyone fell in love with the deep timbre of his voice contrasted with his surprising amount of knowledge. Even if it was easy to collaborate with him, it was hard to create something new and unique. On the contrary, your audience fell in love with you two. It’s nice to watch a model and a stylist practice their art together.

Lost for ideas, you decided just to tease him instead.

lixie: So? No ideas in that pretty head? you: i got one thing in mind lixie: And what might that be? you: having you here you: in my arms you: to kiss up and call pretty :>

It was a thing that you usually did since you loved how he always reacted so pricelessly. He didn’t disappoint with his response, the notifications popping up not even half a minute after your last message.

lixie: HNDNSABNNDJS lixie: Don’t tease me unprompted!! lixie: ;__;

You’re so grateful that he’s always up to play with you.

You thought deeply — too deeply for a situation like this — and scanned the store shelves and storage room for ideas.

You wondered what he would be up to right now.

Felix was stunned.

Done-up in the most expensive face and hairstyle he’s rocked to date, adorned with an unbuttoned suit jacket that one could only dream to wear, he was supposed to look like the stunner. His pecs were only barely hidden and the midsection of his upper body was almost entirely exposed.

Instead, he was the speechless one. He wasn’t shocked by the cold air seeping through his revealing outfit, but his hair raised at your messages.

Your teasing usually should not affect him this much, but today, it was something different. The whole day, all he could think about was you. His mind went to your first meeting. Earlier, he got deja vu as one of the stylists applied lipstick on him. It felt familiar, the feeling of a senior stylist’s hand resting on his face as a brush glided along the perimeter of his mouth. All it lacked was the stunning view of your face in particular. It reminded him of the first time you ever laid eyes on him, and it was to check on his eyeshadow. You stared at each other for too long, exchanged numbers after the shoot, and the rest was history.

He was pissed, to say the least, that you weren’t the assigned stylist for the shoot this time. Nothing could ever compare to the focused look you gave him as you fixed the corners of his mouth with the smooth swipe of your pinky finger.

He craved that touch again.

“Yo,” a dragged-out sigh whisked through the air. “You’ll catch a fly in your mouth if you keep that jaw open.”

Felix looked up from his phone to find Hyunjin, his best friend and one of the junior photographers on set, eyeing his reflection in the mirror. He had his bleached blond hair half-up, tied messily to complete his so-called “intern look.” Most of the senior directors and photographers on set confused him for a model.

“Am I interrupting some kinda internal monologue sesh?” Hyunjin smiled, leaning behind Felix’s chair, raising a brow at him through the reflection.

“No, I just—”

“He’s thinking about Y/N again.” Jeongin, their other best friend, popped from behind the vanity, carrying Hyunjin’s abandoned camera.

The two were interns at the studio. Both were very bored art students looking for a job to pass the time by. Jeongin was there to work as a personal assistant and was mistaken for a stylist considering his fashion sense. His behavior around set proved otherwise, though, since he spent the entire day prodding at everyone’s business.

Felix was no exception as a victim.

“Imagine flirting online,” Hyunjin chuckled while reaching for the camera. Jeongin handed it out to him, only to swing his arm back, teasing the older.

Jeongin dismissed the frown on Hyunjin’s face and fiddled with the camera. “Yeah, cut your significant other some slack, they must be busy at the store or something,” he added.

“Nah, they aren’t.”

Hyunjin snagged the camera back. “Editing a Youtube video?”

“That’s exactly why they messaged me. They asked for ideas for a new video.” Felix sat back and redirected his eyes back to the conversation on his phone. The other two slowly turned their heads to each other.

“Wow! Did you hear that, Innie? They messaged him!” Hyunjin yelped.

“Lix didn’t message first? Unheard of!” Jeongin gasped.

“Cut it out, overdramatic cunts.” The accent made the last word roll off Felix’s tongue in a heavy and aggressive accent. “I want to help them this once. Shoo. Leave me be.”

“Oh, why are you getting all worked up, man?” The younger placed his hands on Felix’s shoulders and wiggled them.

Actually — why was he getting all worked up? Everything seemed off: he wasn’t the type to get annoyed easily like that.

He would have defended himself, but he thought it over. Not only had he been unusually sentimental while getting ready, but even as the day started, he was already rolling off to a rough start. He barely got out of bed, reaching out to you from the side and asking for longer morning cuddles specifically from you. He had been so clingy all day that the silence and afternoon heat killed him from looking forward to anything else but you.

A discussion brewed between the menaces as Felix thought about it. “Innie, you know, he couldn’t even hit the poses right. The director felt bad because our bro didn’t seem into it.”

Felix’s cheeks flushed upon hearing that. “No way, Hyune,” the other replied.

Oh god, Felix thought.

He swatted embarrassing thoughts away from his head to not get teased any further by his own friends. His thoughts — and something else — were hindering him from doing anything physically. The poor boy couldn’t even shift in his seat from embarrassment. It’s not that he didn’t want to physically fidget, he just couldn’t. His entire body froze, but he also just could not move by any means. It would be uncomfortable for him, and it wasn’t just because the clothes restricted him.

Something underneath his clothes would shift too and pierce his body with shockwaves. Before that could, though, his phone vibrated before he did.

you: babe! you: had a breakthrough so big i said eureka out loud in the store [you sent a photo]

Felix immediately opened the notifications and observed the sent messages. He opened the photo even before it loaded. When it did, he nearly melted in his seat.

You supposedly sent him a picture of a product that you found. By the looks of it, you probably thought of doing a product review of it, but that wasn’t the first impression he got from the picture. The first thing he saw was your face, winking with a toothy grin, your beautiful hand holding the product up next to your cheek.

God, you were all sorts of stunning to him.

lixie: OMHJYGOD YOUre so pretty you: dont look at me, silly! you: look at this lipstick. its so funny

For a moment, he didn’t listen. His eyes were still fixated on everything from your expression, to your features, to the nails that you just got done holding up the product. As if he had gone stupid, he had to blink and shake his head before formulating a reply that made sense.

lixie: LMFAOOOO THE NAME you: its not the name baby lixie: WHAT SHADE COLOR IS THAT LMAOOO you: the shade looks fine, look at the label! lixie: What’s it say you: the label claims its make-out proof lixie: ??!!! LOL

Of course, he didn’t make any sort of sense whatsoever. His two friends watched him frantically type away, barely being able to process anything from the mere sight of you.

“Bro’s deluded,” Jeongin whispered.

“Bro’s fucking horny,” Hyunjin commented, squinting at his friend.

you: you sound so funny baby you: anyway i was thinking i should review it you: but can you join me? i wanna try something

It felt like something broke inside of him. A shot of excitement ran through his system, hitting down until his core — oh shit that hurt.

He tried to twist his lower half again, fidgeting in his seat, but it grew harder for him to do so. With tears in his eyes, he jolted up, attempting to focus on the conversation.

lixie: Sure, what do you want me to do? lixie: Won’t you just do an application and wear test thing? you: mmm i guess u can say that you: but im making it a lil different lixie: How so?

The intrigue bit his tongue and Felix attempted to swallow it. The staff around him were wrapping up the shoot, pushing equipment back in their places, and some started to leave as soon as the director announced the last “cut.” He, however, was glued to the vanity chair, shaking in anticipation.

you: im gonna put it on you baby <3

Felix’s eyes widened.

It didn’t matter how many times you placed makeup on him, nor did it matter how many times he joined you in your antics. There were too many things going on in his head that toyed with his thought process and everything that came with it. He didn’t exactly know why, but a knot formed in his stomach. He grew nervous and just knew that you were up to something sinister.

lixie: But how are we gonna do the wear test? I already got my face done and half the day has passed, I’m even done w my part of the shoot you: you dont get it ??? lixie: I don’t get it!! you: ill put it on you when you get here. and were not just testing how long it wears regularly, were testing what the label says you: ill be there in 10mins love you baby

He sat back, looked up from his phone, and his gaze zeroed in on his reflection, attempting to focus on the thought. How would you conduct a different kind of wear test? In terms of makeup, a wear test would simply be to spend a full day with the product on and to see if it still holds its place at the end of it. It had already been well past afternoon by that time and it wasn’t like there were many other things to do that could budge the lipstick aside from dinner. He always trusted your genius, but he knew that there was more to this.

Felix blinked, once, twice, and then stared.

Were you…going to test if it was really make-out proof?

The world around him seemed to dim — it did, since the studio lights were turning off and the senior stylists urged Jeongin to wake the model up from his short-circuiting brain to change out of the clothes.

That is if Felix could still respond before the horniness consumed him.

lixie: Wait lixie: Don’t tell me lixie: DON’T TELL ME lixie: You’ll test it by putting it on me lixie: AND THEN MAKE OUT WITH ME?????? [Read 2:50 PM] lixie: Y/N!!! Answer me!!! [Delivered, unread 2:51 PM]

The cogs in his head accelerated before banging to a full stop, clinks and clanks ringing through his ears at his very slow realization.

“Congrats, smartypants, you figured it out.” Hyunjin scoffed from behind him.

“Dude—wait, hey! Have you been watching me the whole time?!”

“You should be more secretive,” Jeongin giggled. “Get those privacy screen protectors or something. Now we know what poor Y/N has to deal with every day.”

“And stop getting your thoughts tangled in horny next time you text,” Hyunjin elbowed the poor model boy, fiddling with his camera as if nothing happened. “Don’t worry. Your secrets and online PDA are safe with us.”

Felix’s face was washed without color. His jaw hung open both at his friends’ antics and your devilish plans.

“I’m looking forward to that review,” Jeongin added before walking away, teasingly pushing Felix’s shoulder on the way out. “Not that I’ll use it or anything.”

The two friends left the set side-eyeing and giggling at Felix.

—

It wasn’t long before you pulled up to the studio to pick your boyfriend up.

“Hi, darling.” Felix’s greeting and nervous smile lit up the quiet air and darkness of your car. He got in the passenger seat and immediately leaned in to kiss your cheek.

He was trembling.

You had to laugh. “Hey, babe. What’s got you shaken up?”

“Long day.”

“That’s it?” You raised an eyebrow.

“Long because of you,” he said, scrunching his nose. “Kept teasing me.”

“Aw, don’t sulk, silly.” You cooed at him, “Save the pout for later, baby. We’re going home.”

Maybe it was the combination of inhaling your expensive signature scent and hearing the sound of your voice again that made him tingle all over. Maybe it had to do with the curling corners of your mouth that gave Felix all the information he needed in the world. Maybe it was the fact that you held the back of his seat as the car reversed, and the action looked undeniably sexy.

Felix lifted a leg to cross over the other, but it only ever made him look more uncomfortable throughout the entire car ride home. Though concerned, you didn’t point it out, and instead continued to drive.

His chest was heaving and he internally scolded himself for acting like a bitch in heat.

The both of you arrived home sooner than expected.

The tunes that you played earlier in the car ride home stuck in Felix’s head. He wondered if the song choice of a sultry voice singing about “wants and needs” was deliberate. It was your playlist, and if you intended to include subliminal messaging, then it worked like a charm on him.

He had been worked out to the point he couldn’t face you. The moment he laid eyes on you again in your apartment’s living room, he shied away almost immediately.

You caught his averting gaze, though, and disallowed him from living it down. “Is there something on my face, baby?”

Baby. He could spend a lifetime just listening to you calling him that name. The way it sounded so natural coming from you made him melt.

He also could not stop staring at your lips. You always wore a certain gloss no matter the occasion. Even if it was your signature, Felix couldn’t help but stare, and it didn’t make his situation any better. In fact, it got worse, and it felt like the straining in his pants could explode.

“Mm, ‘s nothing, Y/N.”

“You sure?” You prodded. “Your friends kept waving at me and they looked back at you earlier.”

“Ah, please don’t mind them.” He scoffed. “They were being cheeky cunts.”

“That’s a funny way to put it.”

“Anyway, how are we gonna do th-the…uh, the thing…?” Felix stammered, playing with his fingers instead of looking you in the eye.

“Oh, glad you mentioned it!” You hurriedly grabbed the three tiny boxes in your bag. “I got a bit excited over it. Look at this!”

There was nothing too remarkable about the boxes. They looked like basic products, but the huge bolded font on the product labels caught his eye. “It’s more of a stain or something. The label says it can survive five consecutive make-out sessions before a singular budge.”

“It’s…interesting, yeah.” Felix blinked. You chuckled, nodding at his reasonable reaction. “So…y-you’ll put that on me.”

“Yep.”

“And then we kiss.”

“Make-out,” you corrected. Your voice was clear and slightly stern, but the smile that formed on your face sent him in shivers.

The familiarity in your features contrasted with whatever stunts you were going to pull on him sent his head into a haze.

“Anything wrong with it?”

“No,” he shook his head.

“Lix, baby, just be clear with me.” You inched closer to him, bringing your hands to his plump freckle-spotted cheeks. “You don’t mind that I’ll record this and post it?”

“Of course, I don’t mind. I just…” Felix sighed.

“…Just curious, what are you planning to show in the video?”

“I’m gonna show the application, I’ll start by putting it on you.”

The heat rushed to Felix’s face as numerous thoughts clouded his mind as he visualized everything in his mind.

“We’re gonna kiss for a brief moment in the video, probably make out and do…whatever,” you winked shyly. “It’s only gonna be brief. Gotta keep it within community guidelines.”

One of your hands made its way down to his hip. You pulled him closer. His Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat from gulping back an otherwise embarrassing sound.

You had to wonder if he was hiding anything causing him discomfort there.

“You’re sure you’re okay?”

Felix bit his lip. “A hundred percent sure.”

“If you don’t want—”

“I want…it,” he whispered under his breath. “I want you.”

He flashed a weak smile. He was incredibly excited, but he was losing composure and he didn’t exactly know why.

He was about to melt in your hands but you held him up and adjusted your set-up for the video with an equally beautiful smile.

—

Three, two, one, action.

The camera rolled and you felt the familiar rush of adrenaline surge through you. Impressively, you thought you would have lost your spark at content creation, but posing in front of the ring light felt refreshing.

“It’s been a long time coming y’all,” you waved, “but I’m back! And guess who I’m with!”

Felix stared at the camera for a moment, his eyes flicking back to you for a split second. It was his cue to wave as well.

“Ah, hi, everyone!”

“Still handsome and meek as always,” you teased. “He still has a bit of makeup on since he came from a shoot.”

Your hand ran down the side of his neck. You felt the goosebumps rise from his skin.

“Anyway, today I’ll be starting a series of videos covering weird products and their weird claims. We’re starting strong with this funky new liquid lipstick from…B.Me Cosmetics.”

Taking the tube out of its package, you examined it and showed it to the phone camera. You swatched a shade on the back of your hand. Differing from a bullet lip, it had a liquid formula that boasted a unique, pseudo-gloss satin finish.

“It claims to be smudge-proof, make-out-proof, everything-proof. Can last five rounds of kissin’ and smoochin’ I assume.” You said many things that Felix didn’t even dare to process.

Felix simply watched your hands delicately hold the product. His gaze was fixated on your nails, fingers, and everything about you that wasn’t the lipstick.

“But oh no no, I’m not testing it on myself. Well, kinda, but Lixie over here is gonna be my test subject.” You swung an arm over Felix, dragging him down to the height of the phone, showing everyone his nervous yet precious face. He eyed up at you with what seemed to be hearts in his pupils.

“Let’s first see how this goes on, hmm?”

You walked a bit away to grab two chairs: one was velvety and comfortable, while the other was taller and had regular cushions. The first was the same chair your clients usually sat on, and the second was your working chair. You urged him to sit down, patting the seat as a signal.

The moment he sat down, Felix started trembling. His knees looked like they were about to give in and his thighs took a moment to settle onto the velvet.

“Everything alright?” You whispered.

He wordlessly nodded back at you. Unknown to you, though, he bit back a noise. He didn’t mind the sharp pulsing pain when he finally got the courage to look up fully, of course with the guidance of your thumb and index finger propping up his chin.

It felt like handling a little kitten in your hands.

“Which shade, which shade…” You took the other bottles out of the bold box packaging and waved them out in front of Felix’s lips. It either would have been a rosy nude color, a deep red, or a bright cherry pinkish-red.

You tapped the tube of the last color against your boyfriend’s bottom lip, watching his cheeks pout slightly at the action. You quietly settled on the cherry color, to Felix’s apparent delight.

“Would you look at that?” You cupped his face with one hand, holding the lipstick on your free one. You faced him towards the camera, relishing in the sight of his cheeks puffing up in your palm. “Call me biased or whatever, but his lips are some of the prettiest I’d ever seen.”

Before he could indulge in the praise though, you urged him to open his mouth. He didn’t prepare for any of this and not your next course of action.

You slotted the bottle in between Felix’s teeth and kept it in place even after unscrewing the applicator off. He bit slightly and carefully to keep the bottle in place without damaging it. If he were a nervous wreck then, he became overly anxious now. You, however, in full focus, took the applicator of the liquid lipstick and slid it along his top lip. The cold sensation of the new foreign product on his mouth made him squirm slightly, though you held him firmly in place with your hand.

“So fitting that his lips are shaped like a heart. He’s so kissable.” You smooched the air while cleaning up the perimeter of his lips, teasing him.

Wished I kissed you right now, huh? Felix could hear that in your voice and he let it echo in his pretty little head. Alas, he couldn’t retaliate nor speak back at all. He couldn’t even dip his head in embarrassment. Your eyes were trained on the brush you flicked, almost dismissive of your own flirting and it mismatched the smirk that adorned your mouth after teasing.

It was the exact kind of look he’s seen many times before. The exact look he fell in love with when you first met.

It’s the look he would get off to almost every night.

You finished off applying the lipstick and it was impressively smooth. You took the bottle from his teeth and sighed. The color made his mouth look irresistibly edible. It would take you three marathons and a trip to the moon to admit that you were starting to feel just as affected as Felix by the sight of his pouty mouth.

“Rub those pretty lips for me, baby.”

Only you could say those words to him the way that you do. Felix felt multiple urges rummaging through his system at once. He could almost cry from wanting to say something, to call out your name, to moan it, to whine and whimper, and melt in your arms as if nobody were watching.

The eyes of the world were on him, though, and all he could do was comply. He rubbed his lips together and pouted them out with a smack.

“Good job, baby.” You rubbed his chin with your thumb. He felt fire surging within his heart.

He knew that you knew what you were doing. It was only you, after all, who knew how to push his buttons in the right places. Unlike Hyunjin nor Jeongin, it took you no effort and no risks to leave him a mentally jumbled mess; not agitated, but certainly needy.

You were still sticking to a mental script, though. “How does it feel? Chalky? Rough? Sticky…?”

“I-It’s smooth. Feels thin.” He felt his tongue almost twist in his mouth from trying to speak when he was physically weakening over you.

“Seems like a good formula,” you giggled.

He watched as you turned your back on him, explaining bits of beauty jargon that he couldn’t even begin to comprehend. His vision seemed to blur as a need to satisfy the growing discomfort in his pants overwhelmed him. It all snapped away for a second when you switched the angle of your phone and pulled him up by his arms, leading him in front of the couch.

All of a sudden, you rubbed a circle around the base of his wrist. You looked up at him with eyes that demanded something from him. It was dark yet inviting as if he had just eyed down a wolf threatening to eat him whole.

The gesture was your signal that you wanted to fuck him then and there.

Felix finally didn’t have to keep to himself.

“Time to test how good it wears,” you smirked at him.

Felix’s eyes were focused on yours. He didn’t move an inch as your fingers crawled from his jaw to his cheek. You glanced at your phone, propped up on the countertop, to check if it was recording. When you looked back, your eyes met Felix’s red lips.

You were so glad that you picked that shade. The makeup line released a ton of colors and your mind folded into itself when you realized how many there were. It was almost overwhelming to choose a shade for your boyfriend: you wanted to see him with a pinky nude on his lips, but you also thought the dark berry shade looked pretty.

As a trained makeup artist, you had a knack for figuring out which hues elevated which skin tones. Of all people, you knew Felix’s skin would match the slightly muted, pinkish cherry satin stain.

You should know this. You’ve seen his skin flush many times before, that would be more than enough to be familiar with the hues of his delicious skin.

You were the reason why he would constantly blush, after all. His skin would burn under your slightest touch, but it would flare up until his freckles darkened each time you held him down on your hips and called him pretty. His cheeks would turn as red as the tip of his cock every time you squeezed it lightly.

Before you could think of any more, you tapped your boyfriend’s cheek. His face burned into a shade not far from the color of his lipstick.

“Are you sure you want to record this with me?” You asked, eyes scanning his face for second thoughts.

Felix almost forgot that you needed a clip of the both of you briefly kissing. He nodded after a second, confusion snapping into realization as you smiled at him. He seemed to be lost in thought, too: maybe he was nervous, maybe he was thinking of the same things you thought about. Either way, he simply answered with a smirk and the faintest giggle.

“Yeah. I’m game.”

You were on a mission to prove that this lip product could not budge after an intense make-out session. Now, you — and maybe Felix — wanted to see if it could survive intense sex, too.

All it took were two inches forward: you grabbed his hands dangling in front of you and closed in. Your noses touched each other, the skin bumping softly before your lips slotted against his in the smoothest kiss possible. To his surprise, you started gently. He expected you to crash against his mouth. He expected you to rummage through the product sitting on his mouth right away, to test its strength as a long-lasting piece of makeup, but you didn’t.

Maybe he wanted you to be rough. He wanted it.

You could tell by the whimper he choked up behind the kiss. That, and his hands roamed around your arms and sides, pulling you closer.

“Getting a little excited now, are we?” You purred, pulling your face away from his. He hesitated to break the kiss, inching his lips closer to yours even as you talked.

“Sorry, s-sorry. Got a little carried away.”

You wondered what got him to be so clingy and affectionate. You’re well aware of him being loving and tender, but it’s another thing to have him smitten while you’re doing nothing special.

Little did you know that to him, everything involving you is special. Even the texts you sent earlier and the ones you sent before. He couldn’t stop thinking about them; who wouldn’t, especially when you were being such a tease?

He finally pulled his head back. “Smooth,” he whispered.

You thought to tease him. “The lipstick?”

“No,” Felix chuckled, “I meant you.”

Your hands traveled from up to his toned arms until one of them met the nape of his neck — his sensitive spot. You often called him a little kitten for enjoying being petted on that spot a little too much.

“So, did it rub off yet?” Your boyfriend managed to squeak, still affected by your antics.

His face was impossibly close to yours and you could feel the heat in his cheeks growing the more that he smiled at you. You stepped back to observe his face: apart from the blush on his cheeks, the lipstick was seemingly left unscathed. By the look on his face, he observed your lips, and there were no signs of product transferring.

He also just wanted to kiss it again.

You raised an eyebrow at the camera and shrugged. “I guess it survived round one.”

“That was round one?” Felix mirrored the look you gave your phone. “I thought we call that first base.”

Your head whipped back to him. He simply smirked back, feigning an angel’s smile.

You’ve dated him for a long while, and while he had always been silly, he had never been this way in front of the camera. You wondered if the shoot he did — or the staff he was with — earlier had anything to do with a sudden ego boost.

“Now you’re bold, baby.”

The nickname caused Felix’s smirking eyes into wide ones, the excitement writing itself everywhere on his face.

“Just wanna do more with you,” he teased back. “Do more rounds, test how much removes.”

He puckered his lips and pouted. It was a juicy invitation that you couldn’t turn down. Instead, you took it with a kiss — a deep kiss, one that made you inhale and caught him off guard.

It was still gentle and velvety. It felt like you both tasted clouds and nothing was in between. The hand on the nape of his neck ran up to his hair and back down almost instinctively, making Felix shake. Unable to focus on both the sensation of a passionate kiss, an overwhelming urge to breathe and process the suddenness, and the general feeling of being petted, his hands swung to your chest and squeezed.

“Ah! Felix!” You whispered loudly against his mouth, almost moaning at the sensation.

“Sorry! Force of habit,” he said.

“Gotta keep it PG, baby, I’m posting this.” He nodded assuringly at your words but his hands were crucially still on your chest, threatening to squeeze again.

After realizing this, he immediately attempted to pull his hands back, an apology dripping on the tip of his tongue. Instead, you surprisingly threw your hands on his wrists, caging his hands in place.

If that didn’t surprise him enough, you leaned in close to his face and kissed him once more. It was fiery this time; he felt your tongue darting at him while your teeth nipped slightly at his bottom lip before you pulled away. He gasped louder than he should have.

You giggled at his shock and nuzzled your face on his neck. “Sorry. Reflex.”

“But mommy—” Felix froze, realizing what he had just said. He didn’t mean to say that.

All the cockiness he displayed earlier fizzled out into thin air. You could feel the heartbeat in his neck thumping against your lips. From his eyes fluttered shut to wide open ones, you could see the embarrassment wash over him.

Sure, you two were doing something intimate, kissing and groping in front of the camera. He knew and trusted you enough to edit it out, but the idea that footage would have existed of him calling you that nickname…scared him. The camera watched him, the microphone picked up his low voice, and on the off-chance that this moment makes the cut, thousands of people would have seen it.

He’d gotten used to the idea that millions of people could pass by his face and body, but it’s different when he’s exposing a bit of himself that he only reserved for you — his “mommy.”

“Y/N… Shit, I’m so sorry, I-I didn’t—”

“Oh baby, it’s okay.” You gave a reassuring look and a warm smile, shifting your position to hide his face away from the phone camera.

The pet name was his suggestion. The idea that you could hold this title as his dominant partner was something he never thought of telling you at first, but the moment he mentioned it, you indulged immediately. It was something so dear, so sweet, and soft, definitely making you less of an ominous presence to him in bed and more like a warm home he can return to. You loved it even if he didn’t expect you to.

Even while he’s embarrassed and fully vulnerable, he felt so safe, entrusted to the only one in his life that could take the title without judgment.

“Call me that as much as you want. I won’t show it,” you whispered. Felix nodded but you didn’t miss the tears threatening to form in his eyes.

“Mommy…” He inevitably gave up and dipped his head in the crook of your neck. You petted the back of his head again and kissed the side of his head, calming him with hushes and soft hums.

Before he could melt at your warm embrace, you took a few steps back. Felix whined and hoped to hug you for longer, only to watch you press the button on your phone to stop the recording. You shut the phone off, looked back at him, and smiled with your eyes.

He always valued your respect for his boundaries and the fact that you always made his comfort your top priority.

“We’re not done,” you inched closer, “the lipstick’s still on there.”

Because if you two were going to fuck comfortably, you two were still going to fuck.

Taking his arms and pulling them towards you, you prompted him to wrap himself around you as your lips crashed against his. You held him by his waist — it was remarkably small, toned, and muscled but definitely made for your hands to take it.

With force, you hugged his waist and carried him slightly, pushing you both on the couch. You sat on it while he was essentially hovering over your figure, his hips just above your lap.

“Mommy—g-god,” Felix gasped, muffled by another nudge of your mouth.

As if your brain switched off, your hands started going on their own. One was trained on his hip and the other snaked up his side and cupped his face, making him tremble at the sudden yet soft movements.

You were focused on the kiss but you just knew he looked gorgeous.

Of all the clients you put makeup on, your boyfriend always turned out the prettiest. Maybe it’s because his eyes seemed to shine with certain shadows on them. Maybe it’s the way his freckles peek through the base products. In this case, maybe it was the plumpness of his lips that you loved, covered in a flattering shade of red. Maybe that’s what was doing it for you.

“You’re so cute, baby,” you said, pausing the kiss.

Felix pouted. The pigment on his lips accentuated the curves of his mouth. “Not as cute as mommy.”

“Hm, thank you. But you’re my cute baby.”

Sometimes, you wonder how you got this to be so vulnerable, so whipped for you. It didn’t take him that long to warm up to you with this side of him, a side he so dearly hid from the rest of the world. It’s like this doll was made for you.

“Mommy,” Felix dragged out a whimper as he called you by the title. “Making me needy.”

“Don’t get impatient baby boy,” you whispered, a kiss on his temple following your sweet words.

While rolling your hips onto his, you thought about it what you said. You thought back to the last night he fell into this extremely submissive role. He’d always been the one under you and you’ve always been the one in control, but during that one night — similar to this one — he shyly asked you to call him a certain pet name. You loved it, probably more than he did, and you figured he might want to hear you say it again.

“Or are you my baby girl for tonight?”

“Mommy!” Felix scolded. If his cheeks were already flushed, his entire face heated up with a warmth that you simply indulged in. His ears and the corners of his eyes lit up with a blush tone that complimented and accentuated the cherry color that lined his shy smile.

He enjoyed the pet name too much, and he seemed to be threatened with memories of the same night the moment you said it.

“What? Don’t want to be my baby girl? It’s okay if you—”

“I’m mommy’s girl! Yeah, I’m their baby girl!”

Almost all traces of bass in Felix’s voice left the moment he squealed his response to you.

His eyebrows were slanting upwards like a needy puppy, his eyes sparkled as beads of tears sat on his eyelashes, and he wiggled his hips onto yours with a neediness you’ve seen many times before. He briefly whimpered again in a high pitch.

Being called that for the first time was as special to him as it was to you. It still landed him punches to the gut every time you said it. You would wonder why he loved it even if he was incredibly comfortable in his masculinity.

Maybe it made sense like that, considering he was wearing makeup while sitting on your lap.

You kissed him again and praised him until he gave into the burning sensations he felt from your overwhelmingly smooth graces around his body. With fast swipes, you pulled his plain shirt over his head, only to clothe him again with nothing but the warm embrace of your arms.

He moaned, writhed, and whined, adjusting his position on your lap until his legs were slotted against one of your thighs. Once he found his balance, he rutted against your leg, letting out a sound that he couldn’t resist.

“Didn’t even undress you yet, I still have pants on, and you’re already riding me?” You smiled widely at him. Felix huffed, unable to think, inhaling so that he wouldn’t drool on your shirt.

Or your chest, now that you abandoned your top in a flash, leaving it even harder for him to contain himself.

You took his lips into yours again, this time licking and biting his sweet mouth, allowing his tongue to slide against yours. It was messy and sloppy, just the way he needed it. You wondered if he had been craving this for so long and just couldn’t tell you.

Nevertheless, the next step was to take the bottoms off of your lower half and his own, but he paused your hands from reaching onto his crotch.

“W-Want mommy’s off first,” he sighed. It sounded more like a question now that his voice was so high and his tone was so soft. He was far from the boy whose mouth went foul over his own best friends at work.

His head was far gone, you figured.

Felix helped you pull your pants down, careful not to disrupt the current position that you were both in, only slightly lifting yourself off the couch. He sighed once he saw you, bare and beautiful, rid of anything that kept him from being horny the entire day.

He wanted you so bad.

“Baby girl, tell me,” it was your turn to pause his hands from reaching you.

“Is something bothering you?”

“No…not really a-a bother…” He pursed his lips.

He figured to rip the bandaid off and just show you the source of his discomfort—or, as it seems, the source of his pleasure.

“Baby girl, you…”

He revealed a pastel pink lacy fabric covering his private area. He was wearing panties.

“I…I got them from a PR package…from th-that one underwear company…” Felix justified, stuttering from both extreme embarrassment and arousal.

“It was supposed to be yours b-but I…liked it so much…a-and I wanted to…”

You couldn’t help but notice the drool threatening to fall from his tongue, glossing his lips. Distracted, you didn’t kiss him. You licked his mouth and bit his bottom lip again. The blood under his skin rushed to color his lips, emphasizing the pink-colored stain.

As you bit his lip, your fingers found the band of his panties, toying with the pink lace before slipping under it. The flesh — rather, his cock — was hard and pulsing. Felix moaned. His chest heaved from being unable to process everything at once.

“Baby girl’s clit is so hard for me already.” You pecked his cheek and let him whine. “You’ve been needy since earlier?”

“Y-Yeah, but, ‘m…not finished.” He mumbled under his breath. “Got more…to show you.”

He pulled his panties fully down, allowing his cock to bounce up. You couldn’t help but notice something at the base, but your suspicions were confirmed when he led one of your hands to touch his ass.

“You wore a butt plug the whole day?”

Felix’s face flushed into a shade similar, if not deeper than the cherry red he wore on his lips. At your words, he felt like crumpling into himself.

“It’s just for you. Thought y-you’d like it.”

All you could do in response was kiss him deeply and thrust your thigh up, hitting the plug deeper into his ass.

He moaned deliciously into the kiss and almost cried at the contact. It fucked with him — literally — the entire day and you made it all the better. Only that he had so little time to adjust before you gave him a dark look again.

“Mommy, what are you—”

He was shut up by you licking his mouth and your fingers filling up his hole.

“Your cunt’s so fucking wet, baby girl.” Your words left your system through gritted teeth, filtering your animalistic desire to ruin him even more than ever. “This pussy is mine and only mine.”

You bit his lip once more, sucking on the plump flesh before abandoning it. “Bet your toys can’t satisfy you as I do.”

“They d-don’t, mommy!” Felix was on the verge of tears, choking back sobs as your teeth found his jaw, peppering it with love bites lining his natural contour.

You started pumping your fingers up and down his ass, hitting his prostate with your fingertips over and over. “Can only take me inside your cunt.”

“Ah, god—fuck, mommy!” The delirious sounds escaping him as he scrambled to hold onto your body kept you going.

As if he noticed, he started grinding into the air next to your entrance. You took this as his usual sign that he wanted to please you too. Felix valued mutual pleasure and craved it as much as he craved the sloppy crashing of mouths on a couch.

“Take me like a good girl.” Your voice softened as you cooed. “Can you do it? Ride mommy’s fingers while fucking into me?”

He could only nod frantically, allowing the drool in his mouth to drop onto his cock.

The lipstick probably looked so messy by now.

You held his cock, lengthy and hard, and squeezed it in your free hand. “This is mommy’s to play with.”

Shoving it into your entrance, you curled your fingers deep onto Felix’s prostate, eliciting loud moans from either of you. Felix could scream from the sudden warmth enveloping his cock.

“Rub your clit against me,” you demanded, urging him to thrust his cock immediately. He complied only to start whining and crying out from the stimulation.

You leaned your head to the side and exposed your neck. With a subtle nod of your head, you invited him to bite your neck before his next thrust. Lightning bolts entered you when his teeth sunk into your skin for some semblance of comfort.

In turn, you kissed and sucked a spot on Felix’s shoulder. The biting sensation made him squirm away from you, but his noises only amplified when you latched onto a more sensitive spot above his freckled collarbone. It didn’t help that your fingers were practically exiting and entering his hole completely, filling and emptying him at a speed he almost couldn’t take.

The stimulation from all ends of his body caught up to him, release rumbling from his core up to his cock. He begged and pleaded and called your name multiple times as you did too. Felix readied for release but shocked himself when it came suddenly, almost without warning.

He started gushing just outside your entrance, the relief surging through his hips in waves: it had never happened to him before, but the slight amusement on his fucked-out face sent you over the edge too.

You came at the same time, your wetness coating the sides of your thighs and the cushions of the couch, the pool of both your juices mixing right under you.

It had to take you both several minutes to an hour of downtime before you both got up to clean. During that time, Felix held you close, trapping you in a warm cuddle.

“Y/N, I love you,” he whispered, his deep voice returning, calming you from your high.

You pressed one more kiss on his lips. “I love you too, Felix.”

Aftercare had to be a non-negotiable after the scene you guys painted all over the living room.

You made sure to offer Felix the softest bubble bath, massaging and soothing every inch of his skin, scrubbing away at the residue of the new lipstick.

You both found out, just before the bath, that it barely survived at all. It still stained his lips a shade of red, and the stains of love bites that he left on you stuck for a long while, but the actual product budged possibly within the third round of kisses. It barely held on when you started biting him.

The bedroom was full of giggles and the shuffling of your bodies cuddling close to calm yourselves down. Felix shared how he couldn’t believe his horniness that day, and you teased that he was being a hormonal girl.

He whined at that, kissed you good night, and fell asleep while huddled close to your chest. You calmly played with your phone, quickly editing the footage and clipping out the moment that he slipped into submission.

That was for your eyes only.

You posted the video and muted the notifications, kissed his forehead good night, and fell asleep.

—

“Baby, baby girl…” Your voice, although hoarse and deep from the blissful sleep, woke your boyfriend up. The clock on your bedside table flashed 9:00 AM in bright red, but the light from your phone shone brighter. “Look at this!”

“Holy…Y/N, oh my god!” Every trace of sleepiness left Felix as he jumped out of bed. “The video blew up?!”

You sat up next to him, chuckling in disbelief. “Let’s see what people are saying.”

“Why does the suggested search bar have…”

Men marked up. Men with hickeys. Men whining. It was clear that the video affected your audience in more ways than one.

“Silly,” you giggled, sinking into your boyfriend’s embrace. “Wonder how this thing got through community guidelines.”

Felix pointed at a comment. “Help. Someone’s asking about washing the stains off.”

The both of you cuddled closer. As the sunlight shone through your curtains and hit your figures, it highlighted Felix’s honey skin and the cherry stains that failed to wash off in the shower.

You turned your head to his and smirked. “Should we film an update video? What about a part 2?”

taglist: @toastyseungmo @hobihearteu @biddes-enthusiast @snow-pegasus @subby-kpop @myrandomthoughtsandhobbies @eggielix @hanniecheesecake @chrisbahng @laylasbunbunny @ppiri-bahng @he-they-heathen @chriscentric @svintsandghosts @sstarryoong

+ @imrllytootiredforthis @imsolovelylovely @beefis @sorikkung @lix-ables figured to tag since yall showed interest!

special thanks to @meivida, my ride or die, the big brain that inspired me to write this in the first place! they also took time out of their day to proofread it ^_^

thank you for reading ! consider reblogging and leaving feedback if you loved my work 💗 artwork and writing © ipegchangbin. no reposts and translations.

#skz smut #sub!skz #sub!felix #sub!yongbok #dom!reader #stray kids smut #felix smut #yongbok smut #💬 z is writimg

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joelmillers-whore · 1 year ago

Text

Hard Light | Chapter 1

summary: when a new english professor begins teaching your class for the duration of your semester, you can’t help but develop an innocent crush on him. he’s as off-limits as he can be, but that doesn’t deter you in the slightest. after a drunk night, you accidentally email him something that wasn’t intended to ever be seen by anyone. but that doesn’t matter. it triggers a misunderstanding that manifests into an affair with your professor who is twenty years your senior. nothing good could come of this, right?

pairings: professor!joel x college student!reader

word count: 2.2K

series or one-shot

warnings: 18+ explicit, minors DNI, no mention of Y/N, alternate universe, professor/student relationship, eventual smut, self-esteem issues, workaholic, joel x female!reader, infatuation bordering on obsession (stay delulu friends), some sexual thoughts, masturbation (f), joel being a huge tease lol, (will add more tags as i write)

AN: i am so excited by the response that my joel one-shot got a few days ago and i’ve been itching to get something else out to you all. big, giant forehead kisses for those who want one, i love you all. so, anyway, a mini-series about professor joel is coming at you fast. i’ve written the first few chapters, so expect those in the near future. i’m thinking once a week? this fic is going to be something else and i’m so excited to share it with ya’ll. enjoy, and let me know what you think. find my ao3 here for more content and other fandoms.

You were running late for your shift at the coffee shop on campus, rummaging around your dresser, trying to find the low-cut black top you always wore when you had a shift. You weren’t usually one to feed into the peer pressure of those around you, but push came to shove when you found it nearly impossible to keep yourself afloat as a twenty-something student without the added extra tips from your part-time job.

So what if you had to show a little bit of cleavage? Right? There was no harm. Student loans were a bitch and on top of rent and food costs, you had to get a job at the coffee shop and balance a full course load just to make ends meet.

A thought popped into your head and you rushed to your laptop, throwing it open as you checked the time; 5:45 AM. If you busted out your lightning-fast typing skills, you would have enough time to catch the next bus and make it to campus with five minutes to spare. If only your crappy second-hand computer would work.

The thing honestly sounded like a chopper engine, getting ready for lift-off. You were surprised you’d gotten this far with it. Not that you weren’t appreciative, your older brother had passed it down and it had relieved a huge weight— and expense off of your shoulders.

You tabbed into your school portal, typing in your credentials and selecting your English course. You sighed heavily, as you skimmed over the assignment for this week, something to do with a sonnet that you couldn’t care less about. You loved school but ever since becoming an English major, the spark that you once had for literature sort of just evaporated.

You couldn’t tell if it was because of how busy you were with everything else that you just couldn’t find the time to enjoy it, or the thought that really scared you, you had fallen out of love with it.

It had been two years of go, go, go and you were, for lack of a better word, burnt out. You’d tried dropping courses last semester, thinking that you just needed a little bit of ease when it came to your course load, but when that didn’t solve the problem and only made things worse for you, you spent the last two semesters trying to catch up and get yourself to a place where you could finally breathe.

But it wasn’t easy. You were only now caught up to where you had been, the illusion that you were someone who could afford to take time off and slow down was a distant memory.

In bold letters, the words Paid Internship jumped off of the screen. You smiled as you leaned in closer to the screen, making sure you read through everything correctly. This was the break above the surface that you needed, the reprieve that you had been chasing. A paid internship was exactly how you’d be able to make more money and maybe have a little breathing room before you worked yourself into an early grave.

You clicked the mail icon at the top and clicked into a new email, deciding that the worst-case scenario was that you wouldn’t get the internship. All you were doing was inquiring about the application process. Best-case scenario; you’d get it and make some extra pocket money.

You saw the time, cursing under your breath as you slammed the laptop closed, grabbed your phone out of the charger and ran out of the door. You couldn’t be late, not again. You texted your co-worker Jeremy to open the shop without you and explained to him that you were running a few minutes late, as you barely made it to the bus. You climbed on board, scanned your student pass and found a seat near the back. Your chest was burning from the rush of trying to make it on time, but you could breathe easy now.

You checked your messages mindlessly, scrolling through a bunch of unread ones that you didn’t have the heart to answer.

Before you knew it, the familiar monuments and buildings of UT Austin came into view, and the subtle change of scenery from downtown to a more densely packed area made your heart skip a beat. It was the same each time you were back on campus. Which, these days, was often. Sliding out of the seat, you made your way to the front, thanking the driver as the bus came to a complete stop.

The coffee shop was only a short walk from the bus stop but even still you quickened your pace. You didn't want to leave Jeremy alone for long, you already felt bad enough about letting him open by himself. You stifled a yawn as you pushed open the door to the small cafe, leaning your body into the door, slightly cringing at the shrill sound of the bell.

"There you are", a male voice called, making your head snap up. You wiggled your nose, the familiar timbre of your ex-boyfriend's voice ringing in your ears. "It's about time you got your ass down here".

You snickered, shrugging your heavy bag off of your shoulder, and dropping it behind the counter, turning around and greeting him with an unamused smirk.

Jeremy and you had gone out for a few months last year, it was your first and, as of right now, the only short-term relationship that you'd had in college.

Dating your co-worker, even in a relatively small place like the coffee shop on campus, almost always spelled trouble, but Jeremy was not the type to hold something like a failed relationship over your head. He understood that school was a priority for you and making a living for yourself came first, even above something like a relationship. It might not be the healthiest way to live, but it was how it always was.

Jeremy and you had developed a fast friendship, one that went beyond the romantic relationship that you'd had last year. You parted amicably and now, you had someone you could confide in, someone you could trust.

"Why don't you say that to my face?", you teased, raising a brow at him over the milk frother you were setting up.

Jeremy threw his rag down and stalked over to you. "You're snippy this morning", he chided.

You banged into his shoulder playfully, "Doesn't help that I have to see your ugly mug first thing in the morning".

You snorted out a laugh and Jeremy looked at you, feigning defensiveness, "Ouch", he paused, returning back to his post near the coffee machine, "Remind me how we ever went out?".

You scrunched your nose and threw your rag at Jeremy, hitting him square in the face with it, "That was rude".

He shrugged his shoulder, "You started it".

You both devolved into a fit of giggles and fell into a comfortable silence, setting up and getting the coffee shop ready for the day. You had a half-day shift to look forward to and then you had class until the late afternoon. The days were long and the nights were longer.

You usually found yourself nose-deep in your textbooks, more often than not, or some classic novel that was required for class, not moving from the couch until your eyes were red and you were seeing double.

Only then did you retire to sleep, crashing hard until you had to wake up and do it all again the next day.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

The coffee shop had been bustling with people since six in the morning, and at one in the afternoon, it hadn't let up, only now you had to go to class. Waving Jeremy goodbye, you sidestepped Tara, the fourth-year who was covering the rest of the afternoon and closing shift.

You'd crossed the far side of campus, passing by the science building and one of the massive libraries that had acted like a second home to you back when you’d been studying for exams when you were a freshman. You could thank your obnoxious roommates for that one.

Entering the lecture hall, bodies pressed into you as you weaved through the growing crowd, trying to find a spot in the middle where you could see and hear your English professor. But also blend in with the masses. As if the universe had other plans in mind, and everyone suddenly showed up to the Tuesday lecture all at the same time, you found yourself picking a seat near the front, an exasperated groan leaving you.

You hated sitting at the front, not because you didn't want to get called on to answer something or because you didn't know the answers, but because you did. You wanted to get through your four years as quickly and unscathed as possible and if people knew, mainly professors, that you knew more about the subject matter than you needed to, you'd surely get called on more often, making you stick out in ways you didn't want.

It was a terrible curse, going through life with the self-esteem that you did. But it was how you were raised. Blend in. Don't be too loud. Be quiet and only observe. Nerves rapped at your insides when you thought about getting called on when class started. Your heart rate ticked up and you found that your hands were beginning to get clammy, your throat constricting with each breath.

You rubbed your hands up and down your thighs, grounding yourself with the sensation of the material.

With a jump, you sat up straighter in your seat, being jostled from your thoughts by a loud slam. You snapped your head toward the entrance, eying the person who had startled everyone. It was a man carrying a briefcase.

Your lips tilted up at the edges, amusement tickling you when you thought of anyone using a briefcase nowadays. But here this man was, head down as he made his way to the front of the room, toward the desk.

You couldn't help keeping your eyes trained on him. On how his slacks tightened around his butt, moulding to the shape and curve of it. You bit your bottom lip out of reflex, your eyes dragging down the length of the mystery man who had crashed your lecture. Maybe he was a TA? Your brows furrowed when you thought about how your professor was nowhere in sight.

The man with the briefcase placed his case on the desk, turning to face the audience of students who blinked back at him, who now settled down enough to hear him speak. Air caught in your throat when his eyes flicked momentarily to you, and lingered on you for half a second longer than you'd expected. He had massive, warm brown eyes, and soft wrinkles that danced at the edges of his eyes when he smiled, making him seem more boyish than he appeared.

He looked older than a TA would but then again, who were you to judge someone's position in life? You thought that his age did nothing to undermine just how attractive he was, if anything it added to it.

The man, who may or may not have been moonlighting as your English TA cleared his throat, nodding his head, "My name is Joel, well, Professor Miller to most, but 've always been a little bit more informal than my peers".

He began to circle the wooden desk nervously, his large hand finding the edge of it and stroking it far more sensually than necessary. You flexed your fingers, gripping the arm of your seat to stabilize yourself. "So, you can call me Joel from here on out... since we'll be seeing more of each other from now on".

Murmurs began to break out around the lecture hall, and confused and hushed whispers followed.

Professor Miller— Joel, mumbled something incoherent, and you were unable to hear it from where you sat. He cleared his throat again, "Professor McCarthy has taken a leave of absence, so I'll be filling in for him for the remainder of the semester".

You crossed your legs, feeling heat rise and a furious blush break out across your face, and shuffled in your seat, a loud creak emitted from it and you stilled, praying that the loud sound had only been heard by you and no one else. But when you lifted your gaze, Joel's eyes were already locked on you, blown and brimming with cautious inquiry. A touch of a smirk graced his lips.

"And I look forward to getting to know each and every one of you, personally". His eyes were still on you, not ready to release you from their hold.

His tongue darted out to wet his lips and you couldn't help but stare. You had every reason to look away from him, he was your professor and given the clear age difference, he was someone who was off limits. But when he didn't look away from you either, trapping you with his gaze, your face heated up, suddenly aware that he was purposely staring at you.

You swallowed thickly, heart hammering as Joel's eyes finally drifted away from you and back to the faces of your classmates. He continued on with addressing the class, and you noticed that he avoided your eyes for the rest of the lecture.

Only one thought rang through your mind as you tried and failed to focus back on the lecture. This was going to be one long semester.

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