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joeyfranchise · 1 month ago

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𝟙𝟚 𝕕𝕒𝕪𝕤 𝕠𝕗 𝕗𝕚𝕔-𝕞𝕒𝕤: 𝕕𝕒𝕪 𝕠𝕟𝕖

under the mistletoe

lsu!joe x fem!reader

summary: you and joe can’t stand each other. what happens when your stubbornness meets his head on… underneath the mistletoe.

warnings: minors dni, 18+. cocky joe is always his own warning, kissing, spitting, p in v, semi-public sex.

word count: 4.3k

note: happy first day of fic-mas! what better way to start than with lsu joe <333

“yeah, i’ll be able to make it… i think,” you say into your phones receiver, struggling to slide your uggs on and talk on the phone at the same time. “sorry margot! i’m scrambling this morning!” you tell your roommate, turning her on speaker and laying your phone on the counter.

her cheerful voice fills the kitchen as she responds. “it‘s okay babe! i just heard about this party and we have to go to it before we go home for christmas this year! can you write it on the fridge calendar?”

as you listen to margot talk, you pop a k-cup into your keurig and begin brewing it, sliding your trusty travel mug underneath to catch all of the delicious liquid that you can only hope will get you through this day.

“yep, i’ll put it on there! december 21st?” you ask her, popping the cap off the dry erase marker that your white-board calendar holds.

“yes, that’s right. we’ll just have to watch our alcohol intake that night since we both have an early flight the next morning.” she laughs.

you write the event down and close the marker, placing it back in its holder. you fix up your coffee as margot continues talking, filling you in on the campus drama she’s already seen this morning.

“so anyways girl,” she raved, the smirk on her face evident in her tone, “i saw justin and joe this morning talking to the same girl. like get a grip. they’re probably having another weird competition again.”

you scowl immediately as you hear joe’s name. the quarterback and his best friend chatting up the same girl, how cliché. “god i cannot stand them!” you reply with an eye-roll, annoyance present in your voice.

you weren’t sure why you hated joe so much. maybe it was the incessant flirting he did with you and every other girl you knew. maybe it was how his friend group always made bets on who could “bag bitches” first, or maybe it was just the overly confident attitude that seeped from his pores. every class that you took with him, you dreaded, because you knew he’d be right there on his bullshit the whole time.

over time, he grew to dislike you as well, especially when he realized his advances wouldn’t work on you. you tried your best to avoid and ignore him, but he always made it difficult for you. he’d bump you as you passed by, knocking you and your books over into the floor. he’d stick his foot out in hopes that you’d trip. he’d send unsolicited dick pics just because he knew it’d piss you off. the joke was on him when you’d reply with laughing emojis or even the shrimp emoji.

margot laughed at your anger. “joe’s honestly kinda funny.” she says, only making you scowl even more. “oh am i?” you can hear him ask her, it becomes obvious to you that he’s made his way over to your best friend. “mhmmm.” she draws out, and you gag. you can imagine her twirling her hair around her finger as she flirts back with him. puke.

“hey princess, comin’ to the party?” he asks, clear that he’d taken margot’s phone. hanging up the phone on him is your answer. how could she be talking trash about him flirting one minute, and then flirting back the next. you roll your eyes for nobody but yourself.

you grab all your things and leave your flat, locking the door behind you as you head to class, ready to get the last few days before winter break over with.

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆ ☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

the days seem to fly by, which you’re thankful for, and you pack your bag at the end of your last class before break with a smile on your face. the party is tonight, which you aren’t really excited for, but you’re going for margot and to get at least a little tipsy.

you sling your bag over your shoulder and head out of the class, your stomach growling as you think of what you should have for dinner.

you’re lost in thought as you walk, and soon you’re running straight into a hard body. as you look up to apologize you realize it’s joe, so you close your mouth as quickly as you’ve opened it.

“damn, princess.” he chuckles, grabbing your elbows to steady you. “if you wanted a hug i could just give you one.” he winks.

“no thanks.” you say, shoving him off you. “i’m too afraid i’ll catch chlamydia or something.” his friend ja’marr laughs at your words and joe throws him a scowl.

“that’s not how that works.” joe snarks, raising an eyebrow at you. “but then again, you probably wouldn’t know, you’re probably a virgin.”

you stomp down hard on his toe. “actually no, i fucked your dad.” you retort, blowing him a kiss as you walk past, and farther down the hallway.

you don’t see justin and ja’marr losing their minds at what you said, falling into each other with laughter. you also don’t see how joe stares as you walk away, a mix of anger and pride written all over his face.

when you make it home, you can barely get your keys out before margot is throwing open the door and dragging you in, headed straight for her closet. she has about ten different outfit options laid out, and even some she’s selected for you, including a beautiful strappy red dress.

“help me pickkkkk.” she whines, rifling through all the clothes she’s strewn over her bed. you pick up a navy bodycon dress with shiny silver accents and hold it up to her frame, followed by a long, dark green dress.

“i’ve always liked how these two look on you, marg. pick one of them!” you say, trying to sound as chipper as possible. she holds them both up as she turns to look in the floor length mirror, examining them and trying to make a decision.

“ughhhhh, i don’t knowwww.” she whines again, and you’ve had enough. you snatch the red dress off the bed and race out of her room, headed for your own. you lock the door behind you, and you hear margot laughing as she knocks at the door.

“bitch!” she yells, amused at your antics. you step into your bathroom, hanging the dress on the back of the door as you slip your clothes off and turn the hot shower on. you tie your hair up, not wanting it to get wet, and you step under the hot stream.

the water hits your back pleasantly, the warmth working at the knots of stress you’d been holding in your shoulder blades. you lathered your body wash onto your loofah and began scrubbing, washing away the ick of your day.

you quickly check your body, rinsing before turning the water off and stepping out of the shower to dry off with your favorite fluffy towel. you lotion up, put on some perfume, and apply a quick layer of makeup - concealer, mascara, and lipgloss - before sliding the dress on and letting down your hair. the red fabric hugged your shape in all the right places, and you posed in the mirror as you admired just how good you looked.

you plugged the curling iron in and as you waited for it to heat up you ran out into your room to slide a thong underneath your dress, followed by putting on a pair of sparkly silver heels. you began curling your hair shortly after, and then you applied some hairspray, then a few accentuating pieces of silver jewelry.

once you were satisfied with how you looked, you spritzed on some extra perfume and unplugged the curler, wrapping the cord around it and shoving it back under your bathroom cabinet. you unlocked your door and went out to the kitchen to try and find a quick snack before the party. you settled on toast, popping a piece of bread into the toaster and pushing the button down.

margot stepped out of her room and joined you in the kitchen just as you were spreading peanut butter on your bread, and she spun around so you could critique her look. she wore the navy dress with black heels, and she looked incredible.

you took a bite of toast before speaking, “it looks great babe!”

she gagged as you spoke with your mouth full. “i can’t believe you’re eating that in a dress, my dress no less!” she scowled playfully.

“i like living life on the edge.”

you finished your food and washed your hands quickly, margot was ready to get out the door. you grabbed your phone and locked up, heading to her car so she could drive to the party. you left your phone in her car as you arrived, knowing you’d be staying sober and driving back home tonight. you had originally planned on drinking, but you changed your mind. leaving your phone was against your better judgment, but you did it anyway.

margot left her phone as well but she gave you her keys, knowing you’d be dragging her ass home tonight since you had to fly out in the morning.

as you walked into the party, you laid down the game plan.

“alright, let’s try to stick together, no unnecessary hook-ups. and please don’t drink too much. i’d also like to get home in enough time to sleep a little, and finish packing a few things.” you tell her.

she rolls her eyes and calls you a procrastinator before reluctantly agreeing. you head into the party, the loud music was already bumping through the house and making the floor shake. you knew this was a “christmas” party, but you didn’t expect anything less than rap music to be blaring throughout the frat house.

you stuck by margot’s side as she waded to the kitchen, ready to indulge in a few drinks. you politely declined all that was offered to you, and you kept a close eye on your friend as she began downing shots. after a few sips of liquid courage she finally wanted to dance, so she pulled you along until you were passing through the doorway into a giant room that had been transformed into a dance floor. red lights created a sexy scene, and a disco ball was hung from the ceiling, swirling around and creating a beautiful pattern along the walls.

unfortunately, you didn’t make it past the door. as you were headed one way, joe was headed another, and his friends blocked you both so neither of you could pass.

“the fuck are y’all doing?” joe asked irritatedly, shooting pointed glares toward his friends and to you. “seriously, move and let me through.” you said, just as angered.

justin and ja’marr laughed and smirked at each other, and you noticed margot giggling too as she pointed up to the top of the door-frame. hanging there, of course, was a bit of mistletoe.

joe spoke first. he shoved at justin, “dude, fuckin’ move.” he said.

you tried pushing past ja’marr, but he wouldn’t budge. joe shot you a dirty look. “come on, let’s get it over with then.” he said, annoyance very clear in his tone.

“hell no.” you refuse, crossing your arms in front of your chest. “i’d rather stand here all night than kiss you.”

joe’s face turns to what seems to be a genuinely offended expression, and he mirrors your pose as he challenges you. “oh yeah? alright then.” he says, sticking his bottom lip out and furrowing his brow as he shakes his head. “let’s stand here all night.”

you firmly place your back against the door frame as you make eye contact with him, and he does the same. margot is standing by with his friends, and all three of them are laughing hysterically.

“literally the two most stubborn people i’ve ever seen in my life!” she giggles, leaning on ja’marr’s shoulder.

“you think we need to stand and watch ‘em?” justin asks, looking over at margot. ja’marr answers before she has the chance. “nah, if there’s one thing i know about 9, he ain’t backing down from a challenge.”

“y/n’s the same way. she’d argue with a brick wall if it meant she could prove a point. she won’t budge until he does.”

justin laughs at their answers before ushering them off to the dancefloor, leaving you and joe alone to stare at each other with utter disgust.

you huff as you look at joe, and he smirks back at you, unfazed by your little display of attitude. people pass between you and stop to kiss under the mistletoe, on the lips, cheek, or forehead. the two of you also earn many dirty looks.

standing there is honestly easy - at first. the sheer amount of dislike you have for joe is what’s holding you upright, it has to be. you continue to shoot dirty looks at him, all of which he returns, but after a while your legs start feeling weak. you slouch, eventually falling into a sitting position, and you fix your dress along your thighs so nobody can see under it. joe takes the opportunity to tease you.

“just a quick peck,” he smarms, making a kissy face at you. “that’s allll it’ll take.”

you gag, mostly jokingly, at the thought. “i don’t wan’t your lips anywhere near me, burrow.” he laughs and shakes his head, continuing to stand there with his arms crossed.

you sit there for what feels like hours - it has to be hours, people are leaving the party now… and joe is still across from you, still crouched against the doorway. people have resorted to stepping over you both to get through to the kitchen, pecking each other happily as they cross. some of joe’s friends have tried to come save him, they’ve offered to kiss you so he could come play beer pong or hangout, but you won’t let them. you made this bet with joe, and you have to see it through.

you figured joe would break whenever a girl would come offer herself up to him, but he didn’t. he declined everyone that wasn’t you, and brushed all his friends off. you pretended that didn’t affect you… but the fact that he was doing all this because of some stupid rivalry you had with him turned you on as much as it pissed you off, not that you’d ever admit that to him.

as the crowd starts to dwindle down you get nervous, you really need to get margot and head home, but there’s no way you’re breaking and kissing joe. you look over and see her kissing ja’marr in the corner and you roll your eyes. joe seems kinda proud of his friend and a tiny smirk falls upon his lips.

you scoff.

“what’s your problem?” he asks you, sticking his foot out and kicking yours. “i really need to get going. margot and i have to fly out early and she’s over there sucking face. and i’m over here…”

“not sucking face?” he laughs, tilting his head slightly. “exactly.” you agree.

“look, if it’s bothering you that bad,” he shrugs, “i’ll give you a peck to get it over with. then you and margot can leave.” for a moment you think you can see a crack in that ‘fuckboy’ exterior. you aren’t sure you want to take him up on that offer, but you know neither of your friends will let you move from this spot if you don’t.

you think about it for a brief second, and reluctantly agree to let joe kiss you. you try to talk yourself down. i mean, it could be worse. at least he isn’t ugly.

“okay… fine. but you have to tell everyone you caved.”

“whatever you say, princess.” he lilts, already leaning in toward you. “don’t call me that, i hate it.” you snap, looking him firmly in the eye.

“why?” he teases, inching closer, “it’s what you act like. even now, getting your way so you can go home instead of standing here all night. you’re a spoiled little princess.”

you reach out your hand and place it on his chest, you definitely don’t want to kiss him now. that doesn’t stop him, though. he’s already almost there until finally, his lips are touching yours as his frame towers over yours a bit. you’re both still sitting on the floor, but joe stands up quickly and yanks you up with him.

your immediate reaction to the kiss is to squirm away, but joe doesn’t let you. he wraps his arms around your smaller frame and pulls you into him, caging you against his chest. his lips start moving against yours and after a moment, you start kissing back.

all the alarms in your head are going off, but you can’t force yourself to care now. joe is a really good kisser. your hands find their way to his hair, tugging slightly. joe pulls away for a quick breath.

“went from not wanting my lips near ya to tugging on my shit real quick, huh?”

you slap his arm, earning yourself a laugh. you wait for joe to lean back in, but he never does, and for some reason you feel hurt by it. you look over and see margot still occupied with ja’marr, and then you turn your attention back to joe. he takes in your expression before laughing, you look like a kicked puppy.

“what’s wrong, princess?” he teases again, sliding his hands back around your waist. “didn’t realize you liked me so much?”

“fuck off, joe.” you retort, but you’re laughing as you say it. you stand on your tiptoes to meet his lips again, and he obliges you. you move together in sync, and this time he keeps his hold on you, pulling you even closer.

“always knew you liked me, could fuck you under this mistletoe if i wanted.” he rasps. you moan at the thought. you aren’t sure what’s come over you. you didn’t drink anything… you aren’t usually desperate… maybe it’s something to do with the fact that joe said he didn’t want this just as much as you said you didn’t, but here you are both reveling in each other’s touch. it felt like you couldn’t get close enough to each other. he pushes your back against the doorway, finally moving his hands off your hips and tangling them in your hair.

the tip of his tongue dips into your mouth slightly, and you push yours back against his, sliding it along the roof of his mouth as you slip past his lips. before you know it, joe’s dragging you down the hall and into the first vacant room he can find before he’s throwing you down onto the bed and towering over you. you push up to unzip your dress, realizing you might want this just as much as he does, but he stops you by holding out a hand.

“nah, keep it on. slide it up.”

you do as you’re told, sliding your dress over your legs, wiggling your butt and arching your back so you can get it up over ass and hips. joe drinks in the sight of you, your smooth legs and gorgeous body. you’re insecure about yourself a lot, but he’s looking over you like a man starved as he licks his lips.

he doesn’t bother closing the door as he stalks toward you, pulling a condom from his back pocket with one hand while unbuttoning his pants with the other. you slide your panties down your legs and spread them open for him with confidence.

“fuck,” he gasps, watching as you dip your fingers down between your folds to gather some of your wetness and then you rub them in tight circles on your clit. you gasp as you touch yourself, your eyes following joe as he finally pulls his pants down far enough, fisting his hand along his admittedly large length. you always teased him about it in pictures, but it was big. he knew it, you knew it, half of the state of louisiana knew it. and to your dismay, it was prettier in person.

joe finally makes it to the edge of the bed, still watching you as you work yourself. you figured you’d be cringing at the lack of foreplay, or how his pants aren’t even all the way off, but you can’t bring yourself to care as he continues stroking himself before ripping open the condom and sliding it on. he gets on the edge of the bed by his knees and comes toward you a little, a hand extending out to run a finger through your heat and gather some of the wetness pooling there. he smears it all over his cock, and even though the condom is there, it still drives you crazy to see. “joe, come on before i back out.” you tell him, and you almost don’t recognize your fucked out voice.

the heat of the moment is so enticing to you both. his clothes are still on, pants down his legs halfway, and your dress is hiked up while you dig your high heeled shoes into someone else’s mattress. he finally leans forward and slides into you. you take a sharp breath, feeling more full than you ever have as he pushes in to the hilt.

joe barely gives you any time to adjust before he’s thrusting into you roughly. his lips find yours again and you gasp into his mouth. he pulls away slightly, allowing a drop of spit to fall from his lips into your mouth, which you take happily. you’re both moving sloppily against each other, but as joe brings his hand to your clit to flick his fingertips against it gently, you can’t bring yourself to even care. you’ve had sex with plenty of people and you’ve had orgasms before, but you’ve never experienced the euphoria joe is making you feel.

the warmth starts at the top of your head and it spreads throughout your extremities, into your fingertips and toes. you arch into him, your lips still moving together, and joe’s hips are still pounding into yours, shaking the bed against the wall. you cringe as you hear margot’s keys jingling in your bra. it doesn’t seem to bother joe.

with a few quick slips of his fingers over your clit, you’re cumming against him without warning, and harder than you ever have in your life. the tight squeeze around his cock as you cum is the catalyst for his own orgasm as he spills into the condom.

he pulls out of you with haste, ready to tie off the condom and discard it as fast as possible, hating how slimy it feels. just as soon as he’s moved you dart off the bed, grabbing your panties and slipping them up your legs before attempting to make a run for it.

joe pulls his pants and boxers up, tucking himself in and then runs after you, making it to the door before you. “pretty good, wasn’t it?” he jokes, and you roll your eyes at him before pushing past and walking back down the hall, headed for margot. he chases after you.

“okay, didn’t last as long as i normally would, but i mean, we could do it again, i could prove it. that was… you were…”

you press a finger to his lips as you pass through the very same doorway that got you into this predicament. your eyes study joe’s face as he nervously worries his bottom lip between his teeth. you’ve never seen him like this before, he’s shaken up, and you like that you’re the cause of it. you’d hate to admit it, but you would like to do this again. you point up at the mistletoe and joe takes the hint, pulling you in for another short yet sweet kiss.

“text me.” is all you say before walking over to margot, grabbing her by the arm, and dragging her out the door and to the car. you pull her keys from your bra and unlock it, opening the passenger door and shoving her in before going to the drivers side and starting the ignition.

margot slurs her words as she speaks to you. “wha’ happened? did’ya kiss ‘im?”

“i’ll tell you later, marg.” you say, eager to get home as quickly as possible. you park as quickly as you’ve pulled into the space and you help margot out, grabbing both your phones before you go inside, taking margot right to her room. she insists she’s okay enough to take off her makeup and undress, and she promises she’ll drink water before she falls asleep. you head to your room, shocked to see the clock on your phone reading 1:00am already.

you set yourself an alarm for six, and you undress quickly before sliding on some pajamas and settling in bed.

when you wake the next morning it’s to margot beating on your door. “wake the hell up, we missed our flight!”

you scramble out of bed, unplugging your phone and running out into the hall. margot stands next to her door, laughing at you as you panic.

“don’t just stand there, marg!” you shout, your voice laced with panic. “we’ve gotta get dressed, load our bags, call the airport—“

she cuts you off with a loud laugh. “relax, y/n.” she says between giggles. “we aren’t late. i just wanted to get back at you. how dare you sleep with the quarterback and not tell your best friend?” she shoves your shoulder.

you look down at your phone, realizing it’s only 6:10am. “bitch.” you laugh, running back into your room. you lock the door behind you again, and margot continues her laughter. “i need all the juicy details! literally every last second of it, you have to tell me everything!”

you weren’t sure how she even knew, even though you’re sure ja’marr probably texted her.

you roll your eyes at her even though she can’t see it as you head to your bathroom, ready to take a quick shower. you check your phone one last time before hopping in the water, noticing a text notification from joe, who you’ve affectionately saved as “fuckface.”

you don’t open it just yet, but you crack a smile knowing he’s messaged you already. what have you gotten yourself into?

all photos and dividers used are not mine. all credit to owners.

taglist: @slimshiesty @starsinthesky5 @kykysinlovewithafairytale @burrowdarling @joeyb1989 @loveyatopluto @toterry @unhingedfangirl @superheroprincess22 @burreauxsworld @definitelynotdomanique @samanthamark5 @superstarshitblog @fa1ry03 @wickedfun9 @xbriexx @venic-bxtch @burrowdarling @angels555 @idbe-theman @yelenasbraid @ladyluvduv @joeburrowshaircurl @joeybisbootiful @livinobx @blairsworld22 @jarring-behavior @joeyburrrow

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airybcby · 17 days ago

Note

hii I wanted to send a request for the more than a married couple event😋 I wanted to request rin and the emojis 🫐 and 🧁

Hi!!

A Rin Itoshi Blueberry Cupcake

જ⁀♡⊹｡° but my luck couldn't get any worse

♡ a/n — for my more than a married couple event

♡ content — rin itoshi x gn! reader, gn! reader, rin still plays soccer, people view rin as 'cold' and 'cruel', one bed trope, kinda forced proximity(?), made it where rin doesn't mean to be cold he just doesn't know how to interact with others, set in high school (third year/senior year), mention of god one or twice, rin is a DIVA (he doesn't wanna sleep on the couch)

♡ synopsis — you could live with rin itoshi as long as the two of you just stayed out of each others space. that was the easy part...until his bed decided to break.

The marriage simulation announcement hit the school like a tidal wave. Some students were giddy with anticipation, while others, like you, wanted to melt into the floor. Living with someone and pretending to be married for an entire month? The idea alone made your stomach churn.

But nothing prepared you for what happened next.

Your name. Rin Itoshi’s name. Side by side on the pairing list.

The moment you saw it, the air seemed to shift. Whispers darted through the room like wildfire, and everyone’s eyes locked on you. You looked over at Rin, who was leaning against the wall, arms crossed. His expression was as unreadable as ever, but his piercing teal eyes glanced briefly in your direction before looking away again.

"Good luck," someone muttered, half-pitying, half-jealous.

With the reputation Rin Itoshi held, you thought you may need more than luck to survive the next month.

The silence in the simulation apartment was deafening when you and Rin first arrived. Like the other couples, you were handed a list of tasks and expectations, ranging from grocery shopping to date nights to budgeting your "shared" finances. Unlike most of the other pairs, however, Rin made no effort to hide his disinterest.

He surveyed the apartment with a sharp gaze before retreating to his room with barely a word. You were left standing in the living room, clutching the folder of instructions and wondering how you’d survive the next month.

It didn’t help that Rin had a reputation. Brooding, blunt, and fiercely competitive—those were the words most people used to describe him. But as the days went on, you realized there was more to him than that.

Rin wasn’t completely unbearable. In fact, he was startlingly efficient when it came to the tasks. Cooking, cleaning, and even budgeting—he handled it all with precision, as if he were strategizing for a soccer match. But the atmosphere between you remained tense, like walking on eggshells.

Until the incident with the bed.

It happened a week into the simulation. You were reading through the task list when Rin walked out of his room, an unusually irritated look on his face.

“There’s a problem,” he said flatly.

“What kind of problem?” you asked warily, putting the list down.

He gestured toward the open door of his room. “The bed frame broke.”

You blinked. “Wait—what?”

“The bed frame,” he repeated, his tone clipped. “It’s broken. Maintenance won’t fix it until next week.”

“Oh.” You hesitated. “I guess you’ll have to… sleep on the couch?”

Rin’s eyes narrowed slightly, a flash of annoyance crossing his face. “The couch is too small.”

“Well, then what—” You stopped mid-sentence as the realization hit you. “No. Absolutely not.”

“It’s just a bed,” he said, crossing his arms. “I don’t care.”

“Yeah, but—” You faltered, heat rushing to your cheeks. Sharing a bed with Rin Itoshi? That sounded like the setup to a bad rom-com, not something you’d willingly agree to. But his expression left little room for argument.

“Fine,” you mumbled, avoiding his gaze. “But stay on your side.”

That night, you lay stiffly on one side of the bed, clutching the blanket like a lifeline. Rin was equally silent beside you, his back turned as if to create as much distance as possible. The bed wasn’t small, but it felt like it, the awareness of his presence making every breath feel amplified.

“This is ridiculous,” you muttered under your breath.

“What is?” Rin’s voice cut through the darkness.

“This. All of this,” you said, gesturing vaguely even though he couldn’t see. “The simulation, the tasks, the… shared bed situation.”

He didn’t respond right away. When he finally spoke, his voice was softer than you expected. “It’s not like I asked for this either.”

“I know,” you sighed. “But it’s just so… awkward.”

Rin shifted slightly, and you felt the mattress dip beneath his weight. “Then stop overthinking it.”

You turned your head to look at him, surprised by his candidness. His profile was outlined faintly by the moonlight streaming through the window, and for a moment, you saw a different side of him—less guarded, more human.

“Easier said than done,” you murmured, rolling onto your back.

Rin didn’t reply, but his presence felt a little less suffocating after that.

Oh and, also, the matienence people never came to fix his bedframe. You were sure this was some sort of malicious prank on you. As if god himself had been watching you like this was a comedy only he found funny.

One morning, about halfway through the week, you woke to the warmth of something solid and steady pressed against you. For a moment, you didn’t move, still caught in that hazy place between sleep and wakefulness. It wasn’t until you shifted slightly that you realized Rin’s arm was draped over your waist, his chest rising and falling against your back.

Your eyes flew open. How had this even happened?

Slowly, you turned your head to glance back at him, your heart racing. Rin was still asleep, his expression unusually peaceful. The usual tension in his features was gone, replaced by something softer, something you couldn’t quite describe.

You thought about moving, but the warmth of his arm, the weight of his presence—it wasn’t… uncomfortable. And judging by how relaxed he seemed, he didn’t seem to mind either.

So you stayed. Just for a little while longer.

When Rin finally stirred, his eyes fluttering open, you braced yourself for the inevitable awkwardness. But to your surprise, he didn’t pull away immediately. His gaze met yours, and for a moment, neither of you said anything. The silence was thick, but not unbearable.

Then, he spoke. “...How did this happen?”

“I don’t know,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

Rin’s gaze lingered on you for a moment longer before he finally moved, his arm sliding away as he sat up. “It’s… whatever,” he muttered, his tone strangely subdued. “Don’t overthink it.”

You sat up too, your heart still pounding. “I wasn’t—”

“Good.” He got out of bed and walked toward the bathroom, his movements uncharacteristically hesitant. Just before disappearing inside, he paused. “...Sorry, by the way.”

You blinked. “For what?”

“For that,” he said, gesturing vaguely toward the bed. And then he was gone.

You stared after him, your thoughts swirling. Maybe it was nothing. Or maybe it was something.

The following days brought small but surprising changes. Rin, while still stoic, seemed to make more of an effort to engage with you. It wasn’t much—an extra question here, a quiet comment there—but it was enough to shift the dynamic between you.

And then there were the moments when the “fake couple” act forced you closer than you were comfortable admitting. Holding hands in public, sitting closer during classes, and—most unnerving of all—the lingering touches that came with the territory.

“It’s for the grade,” Rin said one afternoon, his hand resting lightly on your lower back as you walked into a mock “family dinner” event.

“Sure,” you replied, trying to ignore the way your heart sped up at his touch.

The bed situation, meanwhile, remained an unspoken tension between you. Every night, you’d lie on opposite sides, trying your best to ignore the proximity. But as the days went on, the awkwardness began to fade.

One night, after an exhausting day of tasks, you both collapsed onto the bed without much ceremony. You didn’t even realize how close you’d ended up until you felt Rin’s arm brush against yours.

“Sorry,” you mumbled, moving to create space.

“Don’t,” he said quietly. “It’s fine.”

You glanced at him, surprised. His eyes were closed, his breathing steady, but there was something oddly comforting about his presence. Against your better judgment, you allowed yourself to relax.

By the final week of the simulation, the line between “fake” and “real” had become increasingly blurred. Rin wasn’t just tolerable—he was… comforting. Reliable. And, though you hated to admit it, you found yourself looking forward to his company.

The realization hit you like a freight train one evening as you sat together on the couch, going over the final budget task. He looked up from the spreadsheet, his teal eyes meeting yours, and you felt your heart skip a beat.

“You’re staring,” he said bluntly.

You blinked, heat rushing to your face. “No, I’m not.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced, but didn’t press the issue. Instead, he returned to the spreadsheet, leaving you to grapple with your own feelings.

The final task—a formal dinner—was both a relief and a heartbreak. As you stood side by side, dressed to the nines and presenting your “marriage” portfolio to the grading panel, you couldn’t help but feel a pang of sadness. The simulation was almost over.

When it ended, the apartment felt strangely empty. You packed your things in silence, the weight of unspoken words hanging between you.

“Hey,” Rin said suddenly, breaking the quiet.

You turned to face him, your heart pounding. “Yeah?”

He hesitated, his usual confidence faltering. “I don’t want this to be over.”

You stared at him, unsure if you’d heard him correctly. “What?”

“This,” he said, his voice firmer now. “I don’t want it to go back to the way it was.”

A lump formed in your throat as his words sank in. “Rin…”

Before you could say anything else, he stepped closer, his teal eyes locking onto yours. “You don’t have to say anything now. Just… think about it.”

As if you needed time to think about being with the Rin Itoshi.

ugh i love rin so much

i hope you liked it!

likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!

#★ · airybcbyy #airy posts #rin itoshi x reader #rin itoshi #blue lock #bllk #bllk x reader #rin bllk #rin itoshi bluelock #blue lock x reader #rin x reader

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eph3merall · 3 months ago

Note

I JUST FOUND YOU BUT PLEASE PLEASE ANOTHER STALKER!MATT FIC (for ideas maybe while she’s on facetime with him hes.. yaknow and his camera is on which is more riskier, or another idea is she posted a photo on instagram or something thats a little more on the 18+ side and he… yaknow)

i got u 🙂↕️ piggybacked off an idea kinda ????? been meanin to visit stalker!matt i miss him :( this is sooooo late as well im so so so sorry !!! not proofread i cant STAND rereading things i write

18+ content, suggestive, stalker!matt . dont read if this isnt your cup of tea :)

—

matt has a habit of knowing where you are and who you're with at all times. well, most times. sometimes he messed up, a mistake on his part. sure, your sweet, little self is his best friend, and it is wrong for him to do the things he does and think the things he conjures up in his head. but it's so hard not to want to blow your back out or tug at your hair with his dick in your mouth when you just look so pretty on your new instagram photo dump.

matt knows where these photos are taken—you and your little group of friends having gone on a trip by yourselves and driving around cute places. the beach, a flower field, museums, art galleries, you name it. multiple photos of you and various girlfriends posing or sipping drinks, until matt sees some selfies of you guys at a bar.

'what the fuck?' are the words that spew from his mouth when theres suddenly a video playing of you guys downing shots and giggling. the music is loud and the crowd in the video is boisterous and looks most likely high and or drunk. the video is a fairly short one, but he doesn't miss the way a guy is snaking his hands around your waist as you turn and grin at him so prettily.

matt's thumb swipes immediately, not wanting to stare at that sight anymore. he doesn't realize the way his fingers grip his phone a little tighter, blinking at the last image in your new little photo dump.

the dress clinging to your figure was anything but modest, paired with the way you looked with your friend. the shot was a little blurry, the cameraman was probably drunk or something. your friend stood to your right, leaning towards the camera with her upper body. a shocked expression lay on her face, one hand covering her mouth while the other splayed on top of her thigh. her eyes diverted away from the camera.

you, on the other hand, have your ass almost directly facing the camera. wide googly eyes stare at the matt through his screen over your shoulder, your shoulders hunched and hair a pretty mess. the hem of the dress you wore rode up and gave him just a little peek of your ass, and god—his dick strained uncomfortably in his jeans. the way you looked so innocent yet so enticing, knowing nothing is by far innocent in the photo.

the caption of the dump was titled 'with my girls <33', and upon opening the comments there were immediately your friends' usernames hyping you up. specifically the last photo. matt scoffed under his breath at how you responded with your little emojis and what-not. the lingering thought of the guy who briefly showed up in the dump was still in his head, to which he stashed in the back of his brain. because matt will find out who that was.

but first, he can't miss the way his dick twitches ever so slightly in the confines of his jeans and belt.

soon enough, he has his belt strewn haphazardly on the floor of his room and his pants pool at his ankles. tongue prodding his cheek, chest heaving with a heavy exhale as his hand thumbs at his tip. a hiss leaves his mouth and he's spreading the pre that's leaking from his slit down the length of his dick.

his free hand fumbles for his phone that sits on the edge of his desk, swiping to that god forsaken photo that gives him a peek of your ass. a grumbled whine rips from his throat and his hand wraps around his length—starting to pump slowly as his eyes scan over each and every single feature of your body and face in the picture.

matt's fingers grip his phone tighter and your name is falling from his lips in whiny breaths and huffs, the occasional curse getting muttered under his breath. the pace of his fist increases and soon enough he's getting himself off to not only the photo of you—but the scenarios he keeps caged up in his head.

your face stuffed in a pillow with your ass up, his palm splaying across the cheek as his dick rams into you. drool bubbling at the corners of your mouth as he holds your head down on his cock, nose pressing into his pelvis as he feels your gag reflex kick in. your body laid all perfectly on his bed, thighs spread and squirming. his tongue poking at your entrance and his hands gripping the flesh of your hips and thighs, holding down harshly to make sure you don't thrash around so much.

matt doesn't realize he's busting until his balls tighten and your name is chanted over and over again in a whiny breath, like a prayer. his fist slows and his chest heaves up and down with each heavy gasp of air, eyes gazing at the photo on his phone and lingering for a little while.

—

goodnight i havent had motivation to do anything recently how are u all i love you guys !!!! if u sent in a req i will get to that just itll be very very slow .....

©eph3merall 2024

#ᶻz eph3merall #ೀ stalker!matt #ᶻz asks #ᶻz anons #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #stalker!matt #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo blurb #matt sturniolo smut #the sturniolo triplets #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo smut #pls im so tired

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tkomptgoedluv · 2 months ago

Text

icantbelieveiletyougetaway.

pt.1 | pt.2 here | pt.3 here

joost klein x f! reader

tags: dead dove do not eat, f! reader, non-famous! reader, reader really needs to see a therapist, established friendship, they’re so in love with each other it hurts but can’t admit it, joost just wants to be her everything, angst, hurt, comfort, all characters are dutch and speak in dutch but dialogue is written in english for obvious reasons.

word count: 4,156.

warnings: very brief allusion to drugging, heavy and frequent references to SA, violence, vague mentions of non-specific mental illness, rpf.

notes: in my head this takes place in 2021-2022 when joost had that really short, almost buzzcut like hair? like the wachtmuziek era. also, very sorry this is late!! it’s still only been half-proofread and i’m not even sure i like how i wrote the ending but here she is anyway. i love her and i hope you do too 💋.

── ⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆ ──

with shaking hands, you fumbled around the bathroom floor to find your phone. your chest was heaving, the cries that you struggled to keep quiet were getting all caught up in your throat as you fought meekly through the nausea. you wiped at your face again, desperate to clear your vision and leaving behind a mixture of tears, snot, and smeared mascara on the back of your hand.

the room itself was dark, barely lit up by a singular dim, yellow light, though despite the shadows you could still see how everything was spinning. you couldn’t remember how many drinks you’d had — it hadn’t felt like a lot, you weren’t a lightweight by any means but you didn’t know how else to explain the state you were in. you couldn’t stand up even if you wanted to, your legs strangely numb to the touch and the pounding in your head made staying on the floor all the more appealing anyway.

face down on the grimey, tiled floor you found your phone laying just underneath the sink. you ignored the low battery warning as you swiped through your contacts, squinting through your tears at the screen as if it would actually help you see any better. you were only looking out for one name; the third out of the four that were listed under the letter ‘J’, and the only name to have an emoji next to it.

over the sound of the heavy, techno bass that seemed to shake the walls and the buzz of a hundred different people all talking amongst each other, you heard the line start to dial. it didn’t make sense to call him out of everyone else that could possibly help you; he was infamously known for never picking up the phone. it was ironic for someone so notoriously attached to their screens, his face typically glued to either his phone or his ipad.

but still, you hadn’t so much as thought twice about it as you clicked on his contact and then the call button. With your head tilted back against the wall and your knees curled up tightly against your chest, you prayed to any god listening that by some miracle, he wouldn’t be busy.

“hallo?”

you let out a whimper at the mere sound of his voice, a small, pathetic noise that quickly turned into a cry that you didn’t bother to stifle. he called out your name for a second time, though now in a tone that was much softer than the one before it.

“i’m sorry, i know it’s late.” you paused to take a breath, your voice having cracked like glass as you spoke. “but i need your help. i don’t…joost, i don’t know what to do.”

“it’s okay, just take a big breath for me.” for just a moment you heard shuffling around on the other end of the line. with each of his footsteps the background noise grew quieter until it disappeared completely, following the sound of a door being shut. “where are you?”

“i’m at…i’m at this house but i uh, i really don’t wanna be here anymore. do you think you could…can you just come get me, please? i’m sorry.”

over the sound of a drum and bass beat that played so obnoxiously loud, you struggled to catch all the whispers from joost’s side of the phone call. there was another voice there, that much you could hear, and you struggled to place it despite how familiar it sounded. you tried to concentrate on the faint muttering, straining your ears to hear it over the song that blared just below you.

but then you jumped when the banging started. a sudden flurry of fists pounding against the wood and making the bathroom door rattle within its hinges. from the deep laughs that followed, chances were it was just a group of guys trying to be funny, probably thinking it was one of their friends getting lucky on the other side. and yet still, you found yourself gasping for breath as you choked back fresh tears, all the blood that ran through your veins turning cold.

“schatje? did you hear me?”

you could only hum back in response.

“i said i need you to send me your location, okay? and then i’ll come get you, i promise.”

it was the moment you figured out how to do so that your phone finally gave up on you. after hitting send, the little map displaying your whereabouts popping up in yours and joost’s text chain, your screen began to freeze. in a moment of panic you managed to choke out that you were locked away in a bathroom before it all went black, leaving you to stare at the taunting dead battery symbol.

you weren’t oblivious to the irony of it all. in a house crammed full of people, perhaps even a few too many than it was built to hold, you felt alone. just a few minutes ago that was all you wanted, to be by yourself, but now it left you with a ringing in your ears. the absence of joost’s voice was enough to throw you inside what felt like a black hole, where time seemed to slow the longer you waited for him.

you found a brief comfort in watching the time pass on the old, analog clock that hung high on the wall opposite you; you figured it was a better thing to focus on besides the sharp ache between your legs. it helped keep you distracted from the way everything just hurt now, whatever it was that was in your system already starting to wear off. without it numbing you to the pain of it all, you could feel the headache brewing behind your eyes and the sting of your split lip.

with each minute that dragged by, the slow, high-pitched tick of the clock echoing inside your ears, your mind began to slip further and further away. every time that you closed your eyes you could see it happening all over again; you could feel his hands back on you, ripping at your clothes and bruising your skin.

all the tears that you had only just managed to blink away came rushing back, continuing to decorate your face with more long, dark streaks of black. surely, this was going to be the thing to finally break you. there would never be any redemption or recovery for you — he’d get to live the rest of his life without burden whilst this was bound to be the death of you.

the more you unravelled, the more erratic your cries grew with hiccups racking your body and a deep burning in your eyes. for once you found yourself grateful for the music’s mind-numbing volume, though somehow it still wasn’t enough to mask the sound of a soft tapping against the bathroom door. like a coward you froze, failing to answer back before you heard your own name being yelled out to you, followed by a harsher knock.

“hey it’s me, it’s joost. can you open the door please?”

as you steadily climbed to your feet, using the edge of the sink to help push you up, your knees began to shake. they threatened to buckle out from under you with every step that you took, each limp towards the door sending a short stabbing pain up to your abdomen. the sensation made you wince, your jaw clenched and a grip on the door handle so strong that it turned your knuckles white.

it was almost sardonic how despite being in a house so loud, everything went quiet as soon as that door swung open. the music never stopped nor did anyone dare to change its volume, but all joost could hear was his own heartbeat thumping in his ears as his eyes met yours. all he could do was swallow, pushing down the bile that was quickly rising up his throat.

even in the low, warm light of the bathroom, he could see the streaked mascara that painted your face and the bloodied lip that was still trickling down your chin. your favourite shirt, the one that he himself had bought you, was torn and just about hanging off your shoulders. it exposed a trail of black and blue spots that started along your shoulder and went all the way down your arms, a couple even dotted down your legs.

joost uttered your name, his voice barely audible over the music downstairs. the corners of your frown twitched, your bottom lip quivering as you shook your head, already answering the question he hadn’t even asked yet. from where you stood he could see you shaking, your knees weak and barely holding you up right. he didn’t hesitate to pull you into him, an arm locking around your waist as his hand found the back of your head, keeping you hidden in his chest.

“jesus christ, what happened to you?”

you couldn’t speak, couldn’t find the right words to even try and explain what it was you had gone through. you could only weep into the fabric of joost’s jacket, so exhausted and overwhelmed that you didn’t have the strength to hold yourself together in front of him. but it was more than enough of an answer for joost who just held you tighter the harder you cried, fighting back tears of his own.

pulling away as gently as he could, joost still kept you in his grasp. his hands cupped either side of your jaw, calloused thumbs wiping away stray-fallen tears as his eyes danced over your face. with a gaze so intense, you could see his eyes growing sadder the longer he looked you over in the dull light of the bathroom.

“i left stunts outside — he’s still in the car. we could…we should go to the hospital.”

“no!” your own dramatic change in tone caught even you off guard. you couldn’t help it, you were panicking now, pulling joost back by his sleeve as he tried to guide you out of the bathroom. the action made you wobble and almost trip over your own feet, flinching at the sudden cramp you felt deep in your stomach. joost’s grip on you hardened, not nearly enough to hurt but enough to keep you from falling back and hitting your head on the sink. “not tonight. please, i just wanna go home. i’ll be fine.”

“you can barely fucking stand, schatje. you need help.”

“then i promise i’ll go in the morning! but right now i just really need you to take me home, okay? i’m begging you.”

perhaps if joost had a little bit more of a backbone and wasn’t so hopelessly head over fucking heels for you, he would’ve had the courage to say no. he would have been able to look you in the eye and still say that he was going to get you to a doctor, whether you wanted to go or not. but no matter how much he wanted to, how much he hated what you were asking of him, he couldn’t. feeling you trembling in his hands and hearing the fear that shook your voice meant there was longer a single thing that joost wouldn’t do for you.

you were his best friend just as much as he was yours, regardless of all the very non-platonic things the two of you had done together over the years. as far as you were concerned it was just something that you’d do sometimes, only ever as friends. there were never any conversations about it the next morning, never any acknowledgment for what it was you had done the night before; it was almost like it never happened until it would undoubtedly happen again. you always liked it like that though — as long as it meant that you never had to think about how you really felt.

joost, on the other hand, was painfully aware of what he felt about your situation, about you. it was never just sex for him, not even once, and he wanted to talk about it. and he tried to, a couple of times, spending the first few mornings after trying to coax you back into bed just so he could hold you skin-to-skin for a little while longer. but you never wanted to stay and you never wanted to talk about it, either, so joost stopped. he let it become another pain he had to live with and spent each day telling himself that he was okay with that.

it was with only a slight hesitation that he nodded before standing back up straight, slipping his big black jacket off his arms and draping the material gently over your shoulders.

you let joost take on most of your weight as you leaned into his side, letting him guide you back through the house as you focused on just trying to make it down the stairs without tripping. to say that the place was packed was an understatement. people were crammed into every room like sardines, dancing and grinding against each other with stiff, swinging jaws. you hadn’t even heard what it was that had been said over the music, its volume still just as loud and disorienting as it had been when you first arrived.

but joost had heard every word, somehow, despite the sound of his own song polluting the room. it made him freeze on the spot, pulling you to a stop right along with him as he slowly turned to face the group of guys that were standing just in front of the front door. you felt your throat start to close at the sight of him amongst them, standing front and centre with a sick grin plastered across his face, his eyes darting between you and joost.

“what did you just say?”

it might have been the gruff, nauseating voice that you recognised, or maybe it was those ring-heavy hands of his that you could still feel pressed into your skin. you didn’t know, and it didn’t matter, because you knew it was him.

“i said good luck with that one, dude. she doesn’t go down easy; kept trying to fight me the whole time.” his stare then fell from joost onto you, his tongue gliding over his bottom lip as he looked you up and down. “but we still had our fun though, didn’t we schat?”

the crack of joost’s knuckles colliding with his jaw was something you heard before you saw it; the thud of him hitting the ground following soon after. a chorus of screams and cheers rang painfully in your ears as you watched a small circle quickly form around you. anyone that could still see straight had either ran from the fight or pushed forward to get a better view of it, their phones held high and already recording.

“bet that made you feel like a man, huh? forcing yourself on a girl half your size. you piece of fucking shit, i should fucking kill you!”

in all the years you’d known him, you had never seen joost like that before; his voice low and angry as his shouts drowned out the music. he hadn’t waited for him to get back up before throwing another punch, the sharp crunch of his noise breaking making you wince and your eyes water.

you went to step forward, your hands already reaching out to grab joost’s arm when one of his friends pounced. a shriek was ripped out from you when a fist struck joost right across the cheek, knocking him into you hard enough to almost send you both tumbling to the floor. any chance for you to try and intervene again vanished when you were pushed back before you could get close enough, joost quickly shoving you behind him as he swung for the other guy.

a strong pair of arms wrapped your middle and pulled you further back as you cried for them all to stop, keeping you locked against their chest no matter how hard you thrashed. distance was put between you and the fight when you were picked up and half-dragged out the door, joost’s blond hair disappearing from sight amongst the growing crowd around him.

the bitter air of the early morning stole your breath, your chest tight and aching as the cold consumed you. small flakes of snow drifted down from the paleing sky, dusting each rooftop and the old, cracked pavements in a thin layer of white. still, there were a handful of people gathered on the house’s front stairs, clad in various leather and latex, that only stood and watched as you were hauled away from the party.

“get the fuck off me! we’ve gotta go back, we can’t just leave him! stuntje, please!”

your feet only met the floor again once you were next to stunt’s car, safely across the street. even from there, you could hear the childish chanting of ‘fight! fight! fight!’ and the occasional glass break from inside.

“martijn -”

“- stay here; i’m gonna go get him.”

you weren’t allowed to argue, so you just did what you were told. for four minutes you sat waiting in the back of the car with the heaters on full blast and still shivering as you nestled yourself deeper into joost’s jacket. after another minute you saw them heading back your way, their pace fast as they slipped past the last few people that loitered on the steps. in the glow of the streetlights you could just about make out the soft shade of purple that was joost’s eye, and the deep scowl that contorted stuntje’s face.

neither of them spoke as they joined you in the car but for joost, you never really gave him the chance to. his seatbelt hadn’t even clicked into place yet before you were turning away from him, desperate to pretend that he wasn’t there burning holes into the side of your head. if joost knew that you could see him staring from the corner of your eye, he didn’t care. if anything, he probably would’ve hoped that it might have made you look back at him, because then that at least would’ve been something.

but seeing joost storm out of that house with a violet eye and raw knuckles, having just risked everything for you without a second thought, it scared you more than you wanted to admit. he was only supposed to come find you, and bring you back home. you never wanted a fight, never wanted joost to wind up with a black eye over you. so no, you couldn’t look at him — couldn’t even talk to him, either.

except your silent treatment didn't last very long, did it? it couldn’t, because joost wasn’t going to let you get away with it this time. for as long as he had known you, you always had this habit of internalising what you felt and shutting down. it never mattered what it was you were going through, you just wouldn’t talk about it.

this time though, he wasn’t going to let you disappear in on yourself again, and he wasn’t going to let you shut him out, either.

as soon as the car came to a stop, joost was up and already outside your car door. with a sweet smile, gentle hands were pulling you up and slowly helping you onto your feet before you had the chance to protest. there was a part of you that wanted to, now too proud to admit that you still needed his help. already, he had done more than enough, even too much, for you.

still, you didn’t dare to fight it — or him, rather. besides a small goodbye to stuntje, no words were spoken as he slipped an arm under your knees and pulled you up to his chest. it was like that, that he carried you up the three flights of stairs of your building, glancing down at you every so often with soft, worried eyes. it was miraculous how he managed to open your front door with you still in his arms, his very own key to your home dangling from the clip on his jeans.

it wasn’t long before the soft leather of your sofa was dipping underneath your weight, its cushion beneath you feeling cold against the bruised flesh of your thigh. joost left you for only a second, just to switch on a couple of the lamps you had dotted around and to dig out your old first aid kit from the bathroom.

you still weren’t really looking at him, not even as he perched on the edge of your coffee table and carefully took your jaw in his hold. the brush of the alcohol wipes along the small cuts that marked your face stung and made you wince, your nose scrunching up at the pain. a string of quiet apologies followed as joost concentrated on cleaning you up, wiping away each and every smear of blood and smudged makeup.

the longer that you sat there whilst joost devoted all of his time and energy to you, the more teary-eyed you felt yourself becoming again. it felt almost…foreign to feel so loved after everything, like you were still somehow worth saving. there was no way that you could possibly deserve it — nothing you could’ve done to deserve having someone adore you so unconditionally without earning it.

and yet here he was, your joost, doing anything and everything to try and help, and you couldn’t even fucking look at him.

the only thing you could do was cry. the way you clutched your mouth did little to muffle the sounds of your distress and it drew back his attention after he turned away only to throw out all of the dirty, used wipes. it was the guilt that was doing this to you, the guilt of knowing that you were the reason why joost now had a black eye. that joost had risked his whole career by starting that fight, and you had been the one to punish him for it.

a warm hand squeezed your knee as another tucked fallen strands of hair behind your ear. it took a few tries of quietly calling out your name to finally get you to meet his eyes, but eventually you got there. nothing could have prepared you for just how sick he looked, the bags under his eyes seeming considerably darker than before and a deep frown tugging at the corners of his lips.

“i’m sorry i did this. i never should’ve gone with him, i know i shouldn’t have because i know that i know better but i still went and i should’ve done something more, i could’ve hit him harder or yelled, and i’m sorry i called you because your eye, that was me, that was my fault and i’m sorry, i’m sorry, i -”

with your face pressed flat against his chest, his sudden embrace almost swallowing you whole, you couldn’t find the rest of your slurred, blubbering words. somehow, at some point, joost manoeuvred you both onto the sofa and with his arms around you, kept you curled up against his side. a few fingers moved up the back of your neck to scratch your scalp as others held onto your hip.

it was the only thing he could think to do to shut you up, to calm you down enough to take big, slow breaths, in and out.

he didn’t have it in him to let you finish that sentence.

delicate reassurances were mumbled into your hair, quiet ‘you’re okay’’s and faint ‘it wasn’t your fault’’s becoming mantras that helped soothe the pain in your chest. you wanted to believe him and knew that you didn’t. you knew that as the deep baritone of his whispers slowly lulled you to sleep, you’d wake up with that pain still very much there.

but joost wasn’t going to stop trying anytime soon, noor was he going anywhere. it was one of the few things you’d actually let him do for you, making himself a home on your sofa whenever you would have one of your episodes. he’d sleep there, eat there, work there. sometimes joost would spend entire weeks of his life in your living room just so that he could know for sure you were still alive and breathing.

he was the only thing offering you the slightest bit of comfort. you could feel his fingers running through your hair as you curled up even further into his side, his voice still low in your ear. it was becoming a struggle just to keep your eyes open, but you knew that he wouldn’t mind.

you could fall asleep just to wake up with that same ache in your heart still there, but joost would still be there too. for now, that was all you needed.

#joost klein #joost klein x reader #joost klein x f!reader #luvvergirlwrites

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sammylkcho · 2 months ago

Note

I beg of possessive sprout/GN! reader :3

- 🐺🔥💅

My first anon with emojis, welcome! It took me a while to write this, especially because it was something I was really excited to work on

I'm so sorry for the delay, I hope you like it!

Warnings/Notes: GN!Reader, possessive Sprout, jealous, just a little bit attitude of yandere, maybe..

For as long as you could remember, Sprout was always attached to you like gum, though it was odd—he was a strawberry, not gum.

More than once, your handler (the same one who managed Shelly) had to separate you both when it was time for your strict bed schedules in your respective rooms. Of course, just after midnight, Sprout would show up in your room with his pillow.

You didn’t mind these little things Sprout did at all—sometimes he even brought Cosmo, and it turned into a sleepover for the three of you! It was fun, and the best feeling in the world was taking a breather from everything around you. Especially for Sprout, who spent all day looking after the little ones at the Gardenview Center, not to mention the “special” days of the week with cooking demonstrations alongside Cosmo.

Sometimes, you felt a bit powerless, unable to share or lighten his exhaustion at the end of the day. You’d tell him he could take a break, even offering to keep a few kids with you (even if you weren’t the most popular toon) so he could get a quick rest, but he always turned it down, saying he was fine.

“I’m one of the mains; I can handle this. Besides, you should rest too! I could make you some cookies with Cosmo.”

You loved and hated that concern of his at the same time; sometimes it was overwhelming because, no matter how much you begged or asked him to take a break, the conversation always veered toward your well-being or baking you something you’d like.

Outside of those topics or the times you’d end up pouting in a corner, feeling helpless, everything was perfect. Being with the other toons was amazing; each had their own special charm that always managed to make you laugh. And of course, always with Sprout by your side (weird)—even he enjoyed being with everyone else.

But as they say, it was all too perfect to be true.

Boxten had been the first to be corrupted by the ichor.

Poor Poppy couldn’t believe her best friend had been turned into something like that. None of you believed it until Poppy tried to get close to him and was met with scratches and bruises marked across her skin.

They managed to pull her to safety just in time, bringing her to the elevator, and Tisha took care of her wounds, as there was no toon around who knew how to treat injuries.

"That… that wasn’t Boxten, was it?” you murmured, barely audible, resting your back against the elevator wall as you placed your right hand on the cold floor.

The sudden grasp of someone’s hand startled you for a moment. Turning, you realized it was your favorite strawberry.

Giving you one of his usual (this time, genuinely warm) smiles, he sat beside you, interlacing both your hands.

“You’re alright, aren’t you?” he asked, tilting his head to one side as he looked you up and down, searching for the slightest scratch.

“Yes.. I’m fine… it’s just, ugh.” With your left hand, you rubbed your face, struggling to find the right words for the whirlwind of emotions and thoughts inside you.

None of the toons had seen anything so violent, perhaps aside from the occasional squabble between kids or adults at Gardenview, but nothing like this.

“That thing wasn’t Boxten! It hurt Poppy; it didn’t seem to show her any compassion!” Your voice trembled with every word, and you could even feel your teeth chattering when you stopped talking.

“We saw him just fine this morning… he was fine…”

You began to sob, small tears escaping your eyes as you tried to calm yourself.

Gently, Sprout pulled you close, wrapping you in his arms and pressing you to his chest, with your face right where his scarf lay, not minding if it got wet from your tears.

“Shh… what matters is that we’re okay now, right?” he murmured.

“But Boxten and Poppy—”

“We’re okay.”

This time, it wasn’t a question; it was a confirmation, and you swallowed all your doubts and fears, nodding without another word.

He gave you one of those warm smiles he saved just for you. It was like freshly baked cookies—warm and sweet.

“We’re okay.” You repeated in a low but audible tone, curling up in his arms, trying to keep all the intrusive thoughts at bay.

When all the toons gathered in the lobby, they seemed like angry animals surrounding a single prey they all wanted to hunt down—Dandy.

The poor main seemed so relieved to see you when you arrived, as if a huge weight had been lifted off his shoulders.

“Oh,” he shouted, calling your name from where he was cornered, “give me a hand here! Some of them think there are monsters on certain floors, which is crazy because—”

“You’re trying to involve Y/N in your lie, Dandy?” Sprout interrupted, his voice so low that it startled some of the toons nearby.

“All I’m saying is that some of you are imagining things that aren’t true” Dandy replied, glancing between you and Sprout.

“And Y/N would understand better the lie you’re all plotting to spread. Right?”

Sprout’s grip on your hand tightened as Dandy spoke to you again, greatly angering him.

Why did he have to drag you into this lie he was planning?

“Boxten… that thing wasn’t Boxten. Boxten would never attack or hurt anyone, especially not Poppy.” You managed to say, shaking your head repeatedly as if trying to erase the image of Boxten attacking Poppy.

You could hear the voices of several toons rising as they confronted Dandy about the corrupted versions of various toons they had encountered or been attacked by.

In the midst of this chaos, Sprout’s voice brought you back to the present.

“Let’s go. We could find Cosmo and do something, just the three of us.” His voice was monotonous, but you didn’t pay it much mind, letting him lead the way.

Days went by, each shorter than the last, or one quicker than the next.

Several toons decided to form groups of eight to explore different floors and extract the ichor from some machines; the reasons for it faded from your mind under the stress and anxiety of possibly losing another toon.

What mattered was that you had Sprout, as unusual as he sometimes was.

You were in the elevator with Sprout, Goob, Glisten, Tisha, and Vee. This time, it was only the six of you since Toddles had been hurt by a twisted, and Rodger wanted to look after her.

As usual, you had your hand interlocked with Sprout’s, a gentle comfort.

The usual music from Dandy’s radio reached your ears, and you realized you hadn’t noticed when he arrived.

You turned slightly to look back at him, and when he caught your gaze, he immediately smiled and waved at you.

Not wanting to ignore him, you let go of Sprout’s hand for a moment and waved back.

Not five seconds passed before you noticed how quickly Sprout turned to look between you and Dandy. Dandy’s smile twisted into something that seemed to taunt Sprout without a word.

You looked at Sprout, noticing the leaves casting shadows on his face, making it difficult to discern his expression.

Before you could say anything, Dandy bid only you farewell before lowering his shop lever and disappearing, as he always did when the elevator reached its destination.

“You can wait outside while Goob distracts everyone, okay?” He took both your hands this time.

His sudden shift in demeanor puzzled you, but you simply nodded, stepping out as the elevator doors opened.

Sprout’s smile vanished once you were out of sight, replaced by a dark scowl.

“You shouldn’t lower yourself to Dandy’s level. He only does that to make you jealous,” Vee commented, her sudden presence by his side not surprising him at all.

“He thinks he’s the center of the universe with Y/N’s attention” he retorted, frowning at the thought of the bothersome flower.

“And you keep playing his "little, stupid and silly game".”

“I’m going to Y/N; I don’t trust Goob enough to keep all the twisteds distracted.” He changed the subject, moving in your direction.

“Let they breathe a little; even I’d feel suffocated if you were on me 24/7,” Vee commented, her tone serious.

Sprout halted, giving her a dark yet blank stare.

“Who are you to debate that?”

Without waiting for a response, he left the elevator, heading toward where you were. He’d left you alone on that floor long enough and still didn’t trust Goob’s distraction abilities.

Meanwhile, Vee grew frustrated with her friend’s childish, ridiculous behavior. He never seemed to leave you alone, even keeping you in the kitchen just for “company” or to show off his culinary skills.

Sometimes, she thought Sprout was even pushing his own limits, but she still trusted he couldn’t be so possessive.

Well.

She hoped you would set some boundaries too.

#dandy's world x reader #sprout x reader #sprout dandys world #dandys world x reader

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swxxtsxcchxrine · 2 years ago

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I feel like i need more emphasis on Miguel's level of nasty because he is just messy. point blank period. imagine he's got you on all fours, your face is stuffed into the sheets of your shared bed, he has your arse in the air all the while his face is stuffed right in your pussy. he's sucking and slurping on your cunt from the back because he knows you like it. maybe too much. one hand is laying comfortably on your bum cheek while the other holds your hands in place on the small of your back to diminish any attempts you have to run away. not that you would anyways. his face moves up and down your slick slit, his tongue prodding at your tight hole. he groans in satisfaction as you push your hips into his face and cry out a silly version of his name. his hand squeezes your cheek in affirmation "that's it, bonita," he praises. his words go straight to your sticky cunny as he slurps loud enough for the neighbours and their mothers to hear. he lifted his head momentarily just to spit on your puckered hole: watching as the fat glob slides down the globe of your arse, not before catching it with a finger and sliding it in. he feels you tight hole squeeze as he stares in awe. he lowers his head back onto your throbbing clit and starts suckling on it, drinking up your sweet juices in tandem. he shakes his head from side to side receiving a high pitched sob from you in return. he brings down his heavy hand to slap your soft bum, hard. he rubs the sore spot as his finger continues to work on your ass. he's moaning and groaning, whining and whimpering into your cunt that he loves too much. "Miguel...you have to stop, i need a break PLEASE!" you plead no avail. infact, he pushes another finger into your tight hole. you silently plead he's not hoping to stuff his hefty cock into your puckered hole. it's already too overwhelming for you. he's still playing with your hot pussy while still at it with your rim. he removes his fingers from your asshole and watches it clench and unclench uncontrollably as your orgasm hits like a truck. he lewdly spreads your cheeks apart, mouth agape, watching your tight holes squeeze around empty air, waiting so patiently to be filled by his pretty, long, thick, heavy, pleasurable, delicious, tasty, mouth watering, eye rolling, name yelling, soul snatching, creaming and screaming, sobbing and rolling around the floor, toe curling, earth shattering, squirting fountains, mood lifting, dopamine giving, life changing, powerful thrust, pretty, dark brown tipped - remember nips match tips - veiny all over, a proper 8-9 inches, he's definitely a grower, he grows while he's inside of you so its the most delicious stretch everr, undeniably good, leg shaking, heart wrenching, name forgetting, drooling, mind dumbing, mind breaking, back arching COCK.

i'll glad be on my knees for THIS man. 🥴like im not even joking brooo ill do jumping jacks on the d just for him he can dump ALL the cum he wants in ME, i'll gladly be the mother of his children. i swear, ill be the perfect little wife for him. he wakes up in the morning to freshly made breakfast and coffee. his clothes are washed, dried and ironed to perfection. his shoes are clean and polished, his shower is already running at the perfect temp. he comes home from work? i'll great him with a fat kiss and a home cooked meal. the recliner is out the tv is on his favourite show, when he's getting ready for bed, its ready made, his clothes for tommorrow are out and im waiting for him in bed. i need him so bad he doesn't understand i'm so upset why isn't he real. like...who am i ever going to find thats gonna compare? will i ever find someone that compares, omg imagine if i don't...☠️☠️☠️☠️ see lemme not God forbid🙏🏾

🫨 (ignore that i just wanted to use the emoji ibr)

#smut #across the spiderverse #into the spider verse #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel x black reader #miguel x black reader smut #spidervere smut #spiderman smut

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iangeeluv · 6 months ago

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Yuji Itadori Boyfriend Headcanons ♡

warnings: none (all fluff)

a/n: This is my take on what Yuji Itadori would be like as a boyfriend! ✧.*masterlist✧.*

bf!Itadori who loves making secret handshakes with you

bf!Itadori who always proposes to you whenever he has a Ring Pop

bf!Itadori who has a whole album of just 0.5 photos of you

bf!Itadori who admires you from a far when your not looking

bf!Itadori who won't let you carry any bags, he'll always hold them for you

bf!Itadori who holds the door for you and says "ladies first"

bf!Itadori who makes your ass his personal pillow

bf!Itadori who always texts you using an insane amount of emojis

bf!Itadori who wipes crumbs off your face and be very focused on it

bf!Itadori who always hugs you from behind and whispers compliments into your ear

bf!Itadori who purposely loses so you win the game (though you don’t know that)

bf!Itadori who puts his hand in your back pockets while you walk (as long as you have a back pocket)

bf!Itadori who never allows you to pay at restaurants, saying it’s the “manly” thing to do

bf!Itadori who lays on your chest or thighs so you can play with his hair

bf!Itadori whose love language is physical touch

bf!Itadori who laughs so hard he’d be rolling on the floor kicking his feet

bf!Itadori who takes down any evidence of Jennifer Lawrence in his room and stops talking about her once you two start dating.

"Jennifer Lawrence? Who's he?"

bf!Itadori who forces you to watch his favorite movies with him and watch your every move to see if you like it or not

bf!Itadori who is always sending you constant funny videos he sees online, and gets grumpy when you don't respond to them

bf!Itadori who is always trying to show off to you

bf!Itadori who is extra caring during that time of the month (he is there at your every call)

bf!Itadori who sends you "good morning" and "good night" texts every day

bf!Itadori who remembers even the smallest details about you

bf!Itadori who is deathly afraid of eyelash curlers and is always nervous when watching you use them

bf!Itadori who isn't afraid to kiss or hug you in front of his friends

bf!Itadori who LOVES to have matching pajamas with you

bf!Itadori who repeatedly kisses you and pouts when he wants attention

bf!Itadori who is the best hype man, he is always making your confidence skyrocket in whatever you wear

bf!Itadori who always has to be touching you. either holding hands or touching legs together

bf!Itadori who has a note in his notes app that has a list of all the things you like

bf!Itadori who always says “bless you” when you sneeze as a reflex

bf!Itadori who swears that he's going to marry you

a/n: thanks for reading! As always comments, reposts, and likes are greatly appreciated <3

#iangeeluv #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #anime and manga #jjk anime #jjk fluff #headcanon #yuji itadori #yuji x reader #yuji itadori headcanon #jjk itadori #itadori yuuji headcanons

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arboretics · 16 days ago

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opposite sides - carcar (developing relationship perhaps) christmas ficlet, 0.5k

Of course, Oscar thought, a little derisive, when Carlos sent him the picture. Like, it was sweet and all, the Sainzes all lined up and smiling their perfect, earnest smiles, but of course Carlos’s family is the kind where you wear a suit to Christmas.

When the Christmas Eve pictures roll into Oscar’s WhatsApp thread, it’s already Christmas morning in Australia, and Oscar was sat in the ugliest sweater his sisters had ever bestowed upon him, sweating. It was dead heat now in Melbourne, no white Christmas in sight, and a little bit of Oscar longed for London—he was out of sync with his own home now, maybe upsettingly, maybe just realistically.

His neck was itching. Staring into Carlos’s pixelated face, a little goofy in the angle, the wild spray of his hair, Oscar scratched at himself deftly. Distantly. There was noise in the kitchen, boisterous and happy, and Oscar found himself thousands of miles away, imagining himself in a suit, stumbling through feliz navidads. It was a silly fantasy, unwieldy, not very imaginative, and raw in Oscar’s mind. Too soon to be thinking of such alternatives, the relationship too undefined.

Oscar hearted the picture, sent a partial selfie of the sweater, the bottom of his chin, DACHSHUND THROUGH THE SNOW sprawled across his chest. Carlos would like that, would send laugh-crying emojis, a picture of one of the many dogs clattering around in the Sainz mansion. Oscar, if he tried, could hear their little claws skittering along the hard floors, disappearing across the thick rugs. He had only seen Carlos’s home in images, obviously, but. As with everything related to Carlos, Oscar had spent plenty of time imagining. That old undercurrent of spite thrived in those daydreams—cold feet, Pomeranians with no personality—until it spun to Carlos himself. His grey vest, suit jacket long shed. Piñon, tall and wiry, sitting patiently by his side, the two of them escaping for long walks across the countryside.

That was where Oscar liked to imagine himself, following Carlos down his familiar paths, frosted fields, too cold to sweat even when Carlos insisted on a jog. “Got to stay ready for the season,” he would say, wiggling his brows. Carlos could probably lay off training for the whole break and it wouldn’t make a difference in the Williams, Oscar figured, but still. There was pride in his strength, his grace, his blunt hands and big eyes. Carlos had won Oscar’s home race with a bandage around his stomach, just weeks out from surgery, after all—what a slap. That scar taunted Oscar sometimes, a white gash through Carlos’s impeccable tan. Remember what you’ve both lost?

The sunlight lasted long in Melbourne, started early. Breakfast was in the works, to which Oscar had contributed a fruit salad, and now he watched the morning stretch out over the backyard, through the big bay windows of this house he’d never lived in. The sweater was starting to scratch at his wrists too, and somewhere across the world, Carlos was going to bed while thinking of Oscar.

#carloscar #carcar #carcar fic #a little something for the season etc #arboreticsfic #arboreticsf1

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taurder · 2 years ago

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Dom male reader x will graham with breeding and exhibitionism kink. 😻😻

Also can i be "🐗" anon??

top!dom!reader x bottom!will graham (hannibal nbc)

contains: breeding kink, exhibitionism kink, lots of swearing, anal (character receiving), implied fbi teacher reader and will.

note: my first request ever, thank you! and i hope i write something you'll enjoy. feel free to ask for more, cause now you're my first anon and I'm a fan of the emoji you picked.

he had been asked to help in another outgoing case, you could tell by the amout of his classes that you had to fill in for. another good indicator of this was his mood. he'll become snappier if approached, grumpy when a conversation with another colleague would become too casual for his liking. but mostly he'd get horny. down bad looking for you in between breaks and shoving you in any room available to climb you like a tree and get you inside him horny.

maybe it was his way of letting go of all this feelings and thoughts inside his head when he was at a murder scene. when your dick was deep inside of him you could tell his mind was empty, his presence entirely here, enjoying every physical pleasure that you could provide him with.

"could you maybe get in any time today?" always desperate, like he was in a rush. you ignored his mean tone, enjoying instead of the view that came from undoing every button of his shirt. his jeans were already out of the way on the floor, poor needy thing had pushed you into one small classroom designed for fewer agents, already biting and provoking, demanding for your touch as you closed the door.

the lock didn't worked on this one, and you voiced this concern knowing well how much he liked the idea of being caught. it was obvious from other encounters and his choice of places that a part of him was thrilled every time you mentioned the sound of someone coming near the door, of another class in the next auditorium and today was no different. even as you touched and gripped at his now exposed torso his eyes wandered to the door, pupils blown and you could picture the view you two made.

clothing in the floor, teacher and special agent will graham up in the desk with you between his legs. you jerked his cock a couple times, making him whimper and frown. "just fuck me already" another demand that you intended to ignore as well but then he reached with a hand to his ass, moaning with eyes closed as he pulled a small butt plug from his hole. the sound was wet and lewd and you unconsciously pressed your thumb there, confirming what the sound made you think. "i– i already prepared everything. shit, i'm so wet you could probably shove it just like that. c'mon"

he had filled himself with as much lube as he could, putting the plug to keep himself from dripping in the corridors, at the places he probably visited to investigate the newest serial killer pattern. all while being stuffed and ready to be fucked. you guess even if he's a demanding piece of shit you have to give credit to his pretty face and initiative, and so you push your whole thumb without a warning first.

"FUCK. no, no, want you– mghh.. your cock" he really craved it, he was almost at the point you loved the most, when he starts sounding really needy. you fuck him with your finger a little more, adoring his squirming frame and already sweaty face. "your cock, your cock" he won't say please, he has already told you this before, so the whiney almost crying like tone you get from him is close enough and you pull your thumb out, watching him already hooking his feet at your back while you guide your dick right in.

And just like he said it's really not much resistance, but enough so to make him wail and moan, louder than he should given the place you're both in, but he's too far gone. as he adjusts to the fullness he goes down to properly lay in the desk, one hand taking his own member, the other grabbing an edge to keep his body from jumping away from you when you start thrusting. "fucking finally. yeah, yeah, like that, yesyes mgghh" a sudden rush of air from the top small windows is enough to make the door move slightly, sounding as if someone was gently pushing it.

will's body jerks at this, and you can clearly see how he squeezes his dick to keep himself from coming, but the movement makes his walls hug tigh your into your length, inviting you to improve your rhythm. you hold his hips, hearing the desk legs squeak against the floor from the movement that proceeds. you thrust into graham hard and fast, seeing his sweat accumulate in his forehead and even the skin in his torso glistening. his mouth is open, murmuring swears as his eyes cross out up his empty head.

this is why he needs you, to reach this state. and as your climax feels near you're reminded of the second thing he needs you for. you hit his prostate, and it's the signal he takes as to guess you're near. "inssss-ide" he whispers, slurring, as he always does at this point. he repeats the word, fearing you could ever forget what he needs to properly cum with you. even as his mind is gone his words come back suddenly, needy. "say it, 'mm-close, so close. keep it in, inside"

you're near too, and as you abuse his prostate with erratic thrusts the words he wants to hear pour out. "you want my cum inside, yes? want to get knocked out, don't you?" he keens, brows together and his right hand working again in his dick. "you think i'm reaching your womb now? i'll fill it up so much you'll be carrying more than one baby" more moans, his body tensing up and toes curling. "here it goes" is your only warning before you give a last deep shove, and even if you're enjoying to finally let go you can tell he's more thrilled.

his body seizes and he throws his head up as your hot seed fills up his insides. even if your thrusting has stopped he's tightening his ass, his dick left forgotten in his abdomen as white ropes paint his sweaty skin. "that's it, milk my cock. don't let any drop go to waste". he shudders, clearly not expecting to hear your voice again but he complies, riding his climax while getting filled. when it's too much for either of you, you pull out slowly, using your fingers to stop your seed from escaping his used hole. he hands you the butt plug and once again he's stuffed.

he doesn't say thank you, he has told you that in the past too, but he does bite into your shoulder when you help him sit down in the desk, his breathing still agitated. you don't see eye to eye as you both fix your clothing or clean the space, but there's a mutual understanding that this will keep happening, and you can't wait for the next session.

#taur's answered #male reader #top reader x character #sub will graham #will graham #will graham x reader #gn reader #hugh dancy #nbc hannibal #will graham x gn reader #top male reader #top reader #🐗 anon

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syoddeye · 8 days ago

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hmmm therapeutic and fluffy waxplay with johnny.

you text johnny a single emoji: 🕯️. the shorthand carries the weight of your day, the tightness in your chest, and the fact you are one song away from losing it in the car. he doesn't reply. he doesn't need to. he knows the drill.

he moves through your apartment with a quiet, buzzing urgency, the same precision he'd use to sweep a floor in the field.

he queues your favorite playlist first. nudges the coffee table against the wall. lays out a blanket and pillow on the floor. he fetches your basket and peels off his shirt, already humming with anticipation as he stretches on the floor.

when you get home, it takes everything to step through the door. you keep your eyes down, unwilling to look at him yet. the stress of your day is eating you alive, and the last thing you want is to do is cry.

johnny understands this, though it's the worst, most difficult part for him—to let you pass untouched, retreating into the bedroom to change into comfortable clothes and take a moment for yourself.

while you prepare, he lies back on the blanket. he always chooses the side—tonight, he's on his back. he wants to watch you, assess, and work out everything going on in that head of yours. he stares at the ceiling, waiting, steadying himself.

when you reemerge, you drop to your knees beside him and light the tealight. you cover it with the holder, lay the spoon in its cradle to warm, and choose wax colors with care. he holds up five fingers: that's your limit for the evening. it's generous, but he can take the heat. literally.

months ago, this would've been unthinkable to him—shaving a patch of chest hair, lying there, and letting wax drip over his skin. but he always said he'd try anything once. and now, here he is, because this is your ritual, something built on trust and quiet experimentation.

the pain sharpens him and it makes him alive in a way that's safe. controlled. he's learned to crave it, but mostly, he's grown to crave the change in you. the way your focus softens as the wax falls, the careful way you press the stamps without letting them sear. never repeating the same one twice, just in case.

when you finish, he's grinning up at you despite the sweat matting his hair and the stinging bites on his chest. there's something wolfish in the way his grin matches the peace on your face—the drop in your shoulders, the relaxation of your jaw.

you gently pry the stamps free, balancing them on your thumb one by one to show him: coins of glittery, gradient wax embossed with tiny shapes. flowers, animals, moons, and suns.

by the time you're done, he's pitching a tent in his sweats, and he knows you'll both get to that, but for now, he lets you stroke your fingers over his pinkened skin. you're home. you're lighter. that's all that matters.

#unedited lunch time bit #liberties taken #soap x reader

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carolmunson · 1 year ago

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out on the moonlit floor. (older!modern!eddie)

part six of who knows how many orange colored sky set list

you and eddie walk down to the piers at brooklyn bridge after you both meet up for dinner a couple nights after your embarrassing drunk sleep over. you both spur on conversations about each other over icecream -- and when you get home, you both share more than you expected. inspiration from this series comes to you in part by: @loveshotzz 'all i really want is you' series. wanting to fuck that old man. and readers like you.

tw: discussions of minor character death, drinking some alcohol, smut, p in v, oral (f receiving), some vague talk about BDSM, couples first time, reader cries after sex

songspiration: kiss me | six pence none the richer

Now that the humidity broke it was almost a little chilly over by Brooklyn Bridge Park tonight. The water from the Hudson slapping against the posts of the first pier, each little wave winking when it caught the light of the moon. Manhattan sparkled across the river, glittering in both of your eyes while you walked toward the fireboat station turned ice cream parlor. Kids run around with sticky hands and mouths, shrieking and giggling with each other while parents look onward. Other couples walk hand in hand down towards the other piers -- some still under construction.

The air is warm but in a comforting way -- a reminder that fall is on the precipice, peeking itself out in hints so that you want something pumpkin flavored in early August. Eddie's hand is warm and clammy in yours, the silver bands on his fingers warmed by your touch.

"I never come down here," he says, looking around, "Why don't I ever come down here?"

You shrug, "I dunno -- are you a big water guy?"

He scrunches his nose and shakes his head, "Not really -- Steve'll drag me to the beach a lot when he visits and I'm fine with the beach but -- I'm not like, a beach guy. Or a river guy, or whatever. Lakes, sure. Ponds, why not?"

"I love being near the water," you say, leading him into the boathouse. You get in line behind at least ten people, all savoring their dog days of summer with an ice cream cone. It's warm in there, all the fans do is blow around the smell of sugar and cream, waffle cones off the press. He lets go of your hand to lay it gently on your shoulder to guide you through, heated skin to heated skin.

"I can love being near the water," he offers.

"Yeah?" you turn your head to look at him, his cheeks flushing. You look so pretty like this, he thinks. A little warm, a little slick on your skin. In your pretty summer dress that he hadn't seen yet. The soft quirk of your brows when you ask.

"Yeah," he nods, "For you? Of course."

You roll your eyes, taking a few steps forward as the line moves, "What looks good to you?" You pass a sticky menu you to him that he squints to read, apples up his lifting up to hide his eyes. You pull his glasses from the worn collar of his shirt, clearing your throat while you tap them against his knuckle.

"I can read it, baby," he mutters, distracted by the descriptions in light ink on white paper hidden behind a foggy sheet of plastic.

"You're gonna give yourself a headache," you chide. He rolls his eyes this time, taking his glasses and tucking them back on his collar. He passes the menu back to you.

"I already know what I want."

"Sure you do."

You walk out together, him with his Sweet Cream & Cookies cone and you with you Salted Crack'd Caramel in a cup. He's had two bites of yours and already regrets his decision.

"Well if you could read the menu then you probably would've got something more exciting," you tease, pulling your cup away when he reaches again.

"I mean this is good but it's boring," he pouts, "I'm not a boring ice cream kind of person."

"Is Steve?" you ask, his head tilts at the question, turning to you.

"Steve?" he repeats, "Why're you asking about Steve?"

"That's who Big Guy is in your phone, right -- with the little muscle emoji next to it? Your buddy Steve?" you smirk at him, his tongue pressing against the back of his teeth.

"Yeah, that's my guy," he nods, "You know how I said he always drags me to the beach when he visits?"

"I do," you nod, a spoonful of ice cream resting on your tongue before you swallow leaving a coating of mocha, sea salt, and caramel behind.

"He's visiting soon," Eddie smiles down at your lips closed around the plastic spoon, "I'm really excited for him to meet you."

"Do you think I'll like him?"

"I think...Steve's a boring ice cream person," he laughs, "Always gets like -- butter pecan or something. You think I'm an old man? Wait until you meet this guy."

You both laugh with each other like mean girls on the playground.

"Is he um -- is he doing okay? I know you mentioned a few weeks ago that he lost his wife," you're shy while you approach the subject, you could tell it weighed heavy on Eddie to talk about it.

"I think..." Eddie starts, taking a lick of his ice cream while he considers it, "I think he's doing okay for being almost half a year out. I um, I stayed with him for the first three months -- moved him into the house they bought --"

"She passed before they moved," he explains when your brows knit in confusion.

"Oh," you nod along, face relaxing so he can continue.

"Moved him in -- I think he cried for six days straight. We didn't even sleep, just laid on his couch and watched Fever Pitch like, eighty five times in a row," he looks out at the water while he recalls it and then smiles, "Which is so weird considering he's a Cubs fan."

"That's so niche," you giggle before softening, "You're a good friend."

"He'd do it for me," Eddie shrugs, "He's already done like so mu--"

Before he can finish, two runners speed by, knocking him in the shoulder. You both watch his cone fall in slow motion towards the blacktop of the walk way.

"Sorry," the guy calls out while he continues on, barely looking back over his shoulder while he goes. The neon yellow of his running sneakers become little flecks as he gets deeper towards the tree covered walkway on the other side.

"Hey, fuck off and DIE, asshole!" you call after him, a grit in your voice that Eddie hadn't expected to hear. He can't help but laugh at your anger at his expense.

"Hey, hey," he starts, newly free hands resting on your shoulders, "Easy killer."

"There was plenty of space for him to run," you seethe, "He's a fuckin' asshole."

"It's okay," he promises, face relaxed, "It's okay."

"It's not okay," you sigh. You hold your half full cup and spoon out to him, "Have mine."

"But then you won't have one," he says, "I'm not taking yours."

"You already know you like the flavor," you insist, "I'll grab myself another one, I need a water anyway."

Eddie looks at the ice cream and then you, one dimple creasing when a side smile pulls at his lips, "Okay."

When you come back with your new ice cream he's settled down on a bench directly across from the Freedom Tower. You can see all the lights across the water from the Seaport, water taxis and mini dinner cruises coming in an out of dock in the haze of a midsummer night.

"Before Sandy, this used to be a weird sad looking mall," you say, sitting next to him, "And there used to be a really good restauarant called Red -- I loved it cause they never carded me."

"You go to college here?" he asks, you nod.

"I liked the mall cause there was a Bath and Body Works and a Christmas in New York store. I'd go in there every time I was homesick -- just felt cozy for some reason," you shrug.

"But the new stuff there is cool too," you say, taking a bite of your ice cream, "It's definitely like -- for rich people."

"Definitely for rich people," he agrees, his spoon sneaking over to your full cup, his empty one next to him. He steals a bite, letting the flavor savor on his tongue.

"Come on, why do you keep getting amazing flavors?" he sighs. You hold the cup tighter to yourself, a smile working on your lips.

"This one is just for me," you chide, "If you want more go get more."

"Nah, I just wanna taste it one more time," he says smoothly, quietly, leaning in. His hand finds your cheek, ducking in for a long slow kiss, "There we go."

Speechless, you just shake your head and take another bite when he breaks away.

"No, no, I think I need another one -- gotta get the full flavor profile," he smirks, loving the sounds of your giggle when he leans in again for another kiss. He gives you three loud smooches on the lips, enough to make a few people roll their eyes but neither of you notice. Too wrapped up in each other to really care.

Eddie's apartment is as it always is -- it smells like him, the walls are covered in knick-knacks and framed posters. Maximalism at it's finest -- organized chaos -- but somehow streamlined. You leave your sandals in the hallway, barefeet hugging the cold hardwood from the AC.

"You know what I could go for right now?" you ask. He looks up with his brows raised, putting his wallet and keys in a bowl by the door. He'd forget them otherwise.

"A mezcal marg," you say, "I'd fuck up a marg so hard right now."

"Well lucky for you," he starts, walking over to the bar cart behind the dining room table, he lifts up a bottle of Del Maguey Vida, "I have mezcal."

"Yay," you let out quietly, not too far off from our quiet cheer when you were wasted in his kitchen last week. You can tell he used to bar tend by the way he mixes drinks, how he slaps the mixer and shakes it, how he eyeballs the liquor. It's not long after you've situated on the couch that he comes over to you with your drink.

"Here cutie," he says, carefully passing it to you from behind the couch and walking around it with his own. The first sip confirms he's made these a million times, wonderfully smokey and salty, refreshing and fruity.

"Oh no," you laugh, "It's really good."

"I'll make you as many as you want," he takes a sip and settles down next to you, arm outstretched behind you, "Thank you."

"Why're you so good at everything?"

"Me?" he quirks his brow, "Nah, I'm just -- I have a lot of experience with like, mundane shit."

"No, no, you're like -- you're good at a lot of stuff," you nod, "Give yourself some credit."

You feel bold even though you've only had two sips of the margarita, but it gives you some courage nonetheless, "What else are you good at?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well --" the cat catches your tongue for a moment, suddenly unsure if you want to bring it up. But then again, he's already seen you at your almost most pathetic.

"I saw those handcuffs in your room the first time I was here," you start, "You good at tying girls up?"

He blushes hard, laughing off the embarrassment, "S'cuse me?"

"I'm serious," you laugh, "Are you good at tying girls up? Is that the kind of stuff you're into?"

"I -- wow -- um," he bumble through words trying to find an answer, looking down at his drink and then looking at you and back down again.

"I -- yeah," he shakes his head, surprised at his own confession, "Yeah, I'm -- I'm into that kind of stuff. Not like, not all the time -- but for some partners, sure, yeah." "So you are a little freak then," you tease.

"Maybe," he shrugs, "By the look on your face though it looks like you might be really interested in that."

You shrug back coolly, another sip of your marg giving you a moment to consider, "I can be."

"Yeah?" He leans back on the couch, legs spread open while he looks you over. He keeps his eyes on you, sipping slowly on his drink while he does. You start to get shy under his gaze, exactly what he was waiting for, "You think you could handle it, sweetheart?"

As expected, you roll your eyes, "Ew."

He puts his drink on a coaster on the coffee table, coming back up to give you a kiss, "You don't think it's ew."

"I know," you nod, letting his lips trail down your jaw to your neck and back up again. Unafraid, you crawl back onto his lap like you did the first night you were there. His hands wander more freely, sliding up and around your thighs, listening to your sounds and how you like to be touched. When you roll your hips he doesn't stop you this time, he lets you do it, savoring the relief he gets every time the pressure meets his hardening cock in his slacks.

"I'm not," Kiss, "Gonna do that," Kiss, "Tonight, though."

"Oh," you smirk, holdhing his face in your hands while you look down at him, "Are we gonna do it tonight?"

He blushes again, chastising himself for assuming what you wanted, "No, no, only if you want to. And I want it to be nice and like -- I want it to --"

You lean in for one more slow kiss to shut him up, he groans into it, "I want to."

Eddie gulps, looking up at you with a nod, "I'll um...I'll meet you upstairs."

He watches you get up and head towards the small spiral staircase, his mind buzzing a mile a minute. He collects the glasses and puts them in the fridge for later, cleaning up a bit while his hands nearly shake with nerves and excitement. Just as he's about to make it up the stairs he sees his phone start to buzz on the coffee table. Steve.

And normally he never does this, but for the first time in months he clicks 'Ignore' before heading up the stairs behind you.

You undress after him, trying not to gape at his body, trying to ignore the way it drives you insane. His tattoos dance with each move of his waist and arms, each flex of his thighs. He takes his time making his way over to the bed, sliding the throw to the floor when he sits on the edge of it to watch you.

Your dress comes off slow -- he beckons you forward to stand between his thighs. Neither of you speak while he cups your breasts in his hands, squeezing softly. You let out a quiet sigh when his lower lip drags against the top curve, pressing into a kiss. Moving to the next to take a nipple into his mouth, wet tongue sliding over it while his thumb teases the other.

Your hand reactively reaches for his head, pleasure starting as a line up your neck and down to your pelvis -- a whimper coming out of you involuntarily. He gives a final flick of his tongue before pulling your underwear down to your knees, letting them fall to your ankles. He looks up with a smile and a kiss to your lips, "Lay down for me."

He doesn't have to ask you twice, kicking kicking your panties off and sliding onto his bed. You lay back against the soft comforter and look up at him while he kneels over you, eyes gleaming while they take you in.

“Peach you’re…you gotta be fucking kidding me,” he lets out with an airy laugh.

You look up at him while he lets his eyes roam over you again, suddenly self conscious. You cover some of your chest with your forearm, tucking in on yourself.

“No, no baby,” he coaxes softly, “Show me, show me you.”

You reluctantly release, it had been a while since you were fully naked in front of someone. You grimace when your arms fall back flat on the comforter, hands daintily laying just above your head. He bites his lower lip, the pink in his cheeks flushing to a soft red. His hands reach up to the sides of your rib cage, eyes on you for silent permission.

“Jesus,” he says under his breath. His hands slide down carefully, cascading into the dip of your waist and up over your belly. One finger tip traces a stretch mark just above your pelvis that you wished he hadn’t noticed — that you forgot you had. His hands continue their journey over your hips to the tops of your thighs — your body warm and welcoming to his touch.

“You are gorgeous,” he whispers — partly to himself, partly to you.

You lean up on your forearms and look down at yourself briefly, “Yeah? You think so?”

“I uh – fuck –” he shakes his head in disbelief before leaning forward to kiss you, “I really think so.”

His lips come in for a long peck, settling himself over your calves, forearms and biceps flexing while he leans on his hands to steady himself on the mattress. He breaks away to kiss your neck – gentle, only a few before placing one soft kiss to your chest – working his way downward. He kisses the pad of fat on the peak of your ribcage, down to your stomach, right over the stretch mark that you wish you’d forget about now. He kisses the other side of your belly, mouth and breath warm while he does, eyes blown like he’s mapping you out.

You revel in the quiet, watching him savor you, adjusting to sit on his knees between your legs. He bends down like he’s praying, lips blessing the top of one of your thighs. He bends one of your legs up and out, kissing the inside of your knee.

“Please,” you whisper down at him. He kisses the inside of your knee again, feeling your weight shift in the bed while you open your legs further. He looks down between your thighs, brows tilting in awe at the sight of you bared for him.

“Push up on the bed a little, honey,” he instructs, so quietly you wouldn’t have heard him if he wasn’t so close. If the rest of the apartment wasn’t so still. You slide up on the comforter while he adjusts the pillows behind you, “That’s good? You comfortable?”

You nod breathlessly, his smile making you melt the more you see it in the light of his lamp in the corner. He kisses you again, hand reaching up behind your neck to pull you to him while you let his tongue into your mouth. It slides against yours with needy precision, wanting to get as close to you as possible while he does. When you part he lets out a shaky breath, nuzzling your nose.

“You okay?” you press your forehead to his.

“Yeah I’m just – I think I’m nervous,” he laughs, “You’re makin’ me nervous.”

“Why’re you nervous?” you ask, pulling back to look at him.

“I dunno. I guess I just,” he leans back, “I’m never normally thinking my way through it. At least I haven’t for a while.”

“What does that mean?”

“Like I was just taking people home to fuck, then they’d leave,” he shrugs, “I’m like…I’m taking my time and I wanna make sure it’s like – the best sexual experience you’ll ever have.”

“Sexual experience,” you repeat back in a tease, he puffs out a breath with a roll of his pretty brown eyes.

“I’m trying to be meaningful here,” he asserts, “M’trying to like – make love to you.”

You giggle again at ‘make love’ but cover your mouth, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry – I’m not making fun of you. That’s very sweet, Ed.”

He tinges an embarrassed pink and settles back on his knees, hands running through his hair.

“Baby,” you soothe, coming up to smooth your hands over his shoulders, “I’m sorry. I promise I’m not trying to make you feel silly or embarrassed. I’m nervous, too.”

“Baby…” he repeats back, a boyish grin pulling up on his lips, “I’m not a baby.”

“Yeah you are,” you nod, kissing his cheek, “You’re such a baby.”

“Thought I was an old man,” he says, that blushy grin still plastered on his face.

“You can be both.” You lay back against the pillows, watching him take a settling breath before coming back down to meet you for another taste of warm kisses. He lets himself press a loving kiss to your cheek before dipping down to leave intentional kisses down your sternum, following his map from your rib cage to your belly, the top of your thigh, the inside of your knee. Neither of you speak when he kisses the inside of your thigh, letting him part you right before his tongue starts to flick dutifully over your clit.

Your quiet gasp makes his eyes flutter closed, feeling you settle down into the pillows while his lips open over you, nose resting on the pudge of your mound. His tongue works steadily, working you while your legs bend and creep upwards, thighs to your chest. One hand reaches up to squeeze the inside of one, spreading you apart a little further for him. You feel the warmth of the back of his head as he leans to the side against your thigh, tongue dragging up over and over before moving right back to center.

“More,” you sigh out, starting to whimper, hips reacting to each flutter of his tongue. He start to suckle, eyes flicking up at the sound of your voice. He nods while he works, one hand coming up to slide a finger in either ease – he’s not surprised.

“Oh!” you squeak out, the little quake in your thighs makes him huff a laugh.

“Does this feel good?” he asks against your skin. He kisses your other thigh why he waist for an answer. You nod down at him, breaths picking up while his finger dips slowly in and out.

“S’really good,” you slur out, the tingle in your belly rising to an electric buzz.

“D’you like getting eaten out?” he asks, starting again. His middle finger pushes in with his index this time with mild resistance.

“Hmmm-yes,” you breathe out at the slight stretch, feeling him hook into you once his fingers push the hilt. You push up on your forearms and then your hands, the pleasure making you dizzy while you look down at him.

“Don’t stop,” you whisper. He obliges, head down and determined, sucking and teasing, the soft flick of his tongue getting you closer and closer. His fingers pulse, pushing in and in and in, the pads of his fingers pressing on your core that makes heat run through you. You aren’t sure if you’re numb with pleasure or you’re flooding over his finger, the buzz is becoming overwhelming. Your heart hammers, his fingers working in a controlled steady rhythm – too grown to know that when a girl’s about to cum you don’t speed up, you stay the course.

“ShhhitI’mgonnacum – ohmigodI’mgonnacum.”

His lips break away from your clit as you start to come undone, a smirk prevalent on his face when he leans in to kiss you through it. You moan so loud into his mouth it’s almost a cry – a prayer to God that you make it out with all your senses.

He feels the gush of your release over his first and middle finger, leaking plentifully into his comforter. He smiles when he breaks away from you — soft kisses on your cheeks while you shiver.

You flop flat on your back with a deep breath, shutting your eyes while you push air out of O shaped lips.

“You okay?” his low gravelly voice settling in your chest. You nod, a little hazy, shifting over a wet spot under your limp thighs. “Ugh.”

“It’s okay,” he assures, knowing that you can feel what you left behind. He squeezes your calf with a soft chuckle, “Just a lil’ mess, baby. D’y’need a minute?”

You nod, another deep breath, peeking through your heavy lids to watch him stretch over you while he clicks on another light. The sconces above his bed glow golden and soft above the both of you, glinting against his silver jewelry like a fire. Eddie’s form shifts the mattress when he lays next to you, rough palm smoothing over the top of your stomach to the opposite dip in your waist.

“That was uh…”

“Yeah…”

You lay there with each other, eventually finding the strength to move onto your side to face him. He’s confident now that you came, more sure of himself – he knows he can make you do it again.

“Don’t give me that look,” you chide.

He giggles darkly, face splitting smile pulling his cheeks up, “M’not giving you a look.”

“You are giving me a look.”

“M’just…you know – It’s always good to know you still got it,” he shrugs, falling onto his back. He tucks his hands behind his head, elbows splayed out on either side, biceps flexing, “And I still got it.”

“Yeah, yeah, you still got it old man,” you laugh, tucking yourself under his arm so that your head lays on his chest. You look down the expanse of him, fingertip tracing one of his tattoos that flows down to his lower stomach. His cock twitches, kicking up at the gentle touch so close to his pelvis. You let out a soft hum when one of his arms comes down to wrap around you, kiss pressed to the top of your head. You tilt up, noses brushing while your fingers still trace, searching lower until the scratch of stubble from week old manscaping finds you.

You kiss him first, moving out from under his arm, propping yourself up on your elbow while you guide him. He grunts out a low groan when your hand finally wraps around his cock, offering him steady strokes, giving him a type of relief he’s deeply needed this past month and some change. It’s not long before his fingers wrap around your wrist to put you back on the mattress, hard and leaking, desperate to be inside you. Your eyes linger on it while he leans over to grab a condom from his bedside table drawer, he smirks while he rolls it on.

“Ready?” he asks, cocky, tossing the foil packaging off the bed. You nod hurriedly, grinning while he props your hips up under a couple of his pillows.

Another kiss and he’s parting your legs again, fingers sinking into the fat of the back of one of your thighs while he guides himself down the slick slit of your core. He goes slow, tip teasing your clit before sliding down to your entrance. He’s concentrating, but he still flicks his eyes up at you beneath his feathered bangs before starting to push.

“Yeah?” he asks.

“Yeah.”

He eases in, you feel the stretch immediately, legs springing up tight towards your chest. One, two, three short even thrusts before you’re slick enough to accommodate him. He pushes in slowly, both of you sighing in pleasure when he splits you open to the hilt, your legs parting further. His other hand meets your lonely thigh, gripping tight while he starts at a steady rhythm, head lolling back for a moment then coming back to center.

“Baby…” he starts, a growl of a grunt coming from his chest, “You – oh, honey – you feel so good, so — oh fuck...”

You can only respond with choked ‘uhn! uhn! uhn!’s at every thrust, the head of his cock plunging deep at this angle, nearly brushing your cervix. His kiss is welcomed when he lets go of your legs to lean forward over you, propping himself up on one forearm, hand on your cheek.

“That’s good? This feels good?” he pants into your mouth.

“Mhm,” you whine, “You’re so deep.”

“I know,” he coos, “M’really deep. You like that?”

“Yeah,” you squeak when his thrusts become intentionally strong and slow.

“Feelin’ me?” he asks, tip of his nose running along your cheek, forehead against your temple. You nod, groaning while he continues, holding his hips in place after every plunge into your core. His cologne and scent of his hair products blend together in a dark spice that makes your mouth water, eyes fluttering closed when you hear his breaths become gravelly – each one its own growl. You can barely think, your mind’s not able to keep up with the pleasure of where his cock keeps hitting, how full you feel, where his free hand wanders, how he kisses your neck. In the haze you realize that he likes this, he likes being in control.

Your body bounces against his hips when his thrusts start to pick up in speed, not fast like a jackhammer, but fast enough that the buzz in your belly becomes a vibrant hum. He gives you a final sloppy kiss on the neck and then the lips before leaning back up for more leverage, gripping your waist just above the flare of your hips.

“Look at me,” he huffs out, more of a command than a suggestion. Your heart rate quickens at the sound, bark and bite while his fingertips squeeze you. Your eyes snap to his like magnets, like when you first kissed after your date in the park.

“God,” he groans, “S-so – fuck – pretty.”

His next thrust hits a spot that makes you see white, a whimper choking out of your throat. You grab his wrist, whining, “Ohmygod there, right there.”

“There?” he teases softly, slowing down to slowly drag his cock in and out. He hits it again at an achingly low speed this time, but the pleasure is just as delicious.

“Yes, yes right there – please,” you don’t even know what you’re saying please for, what you’re asking. You just need to feel this, you need him to get you there. He quickens his pace, the slick and sloppy sounds of skin hitting skin and ragged breaths disrupting the quiet of the room. Tears pool in your eyes in pleasure while you cry out, back arching into each snap of his hips.

“More, more, more,” like a chanting prayer flows out of you, spurring him on. His heart thumps in his chest while he looks down at you, your face contorted, the way your breasts bounce. He resists the urge to reach down and clamp over your neck when you bare it to him, pushing yourself against the pillows. He busies himself by gripping your thighs again in a bruising hold, holding steady at a pace that clearly feels great for you but feels amazing for him. Eddie bites his lip, the sight and sound of you sending him reeling. He’s getting close, hips starting to stutter while your walls loosen a bit to accommodate him further, you’re already soaking his pelvis – you’re gonna cum, he can feel it.

You can feel all your sounds in your throat, kneels pulling together as the vibrant hum in your lower belly becomes a vibration. He doesn’t stop, grunting and huffing like a bull with each thrust while he tries to hold back. He pulls your knees apart to make space for him, chest to chest while he pumps in a little bit faster. Eddie’s mouth takes yours hungrily, greedily while he lets out an aching moan.

“Fuck – fuck - shit,” he growls, eyes clamped closed while your noses rest against each other. He keeps going, fucking you through his orgasm despite his shaking arms. At this position he can adjust to go a little deeper, and when he does you gush. He keeps going, feeling the pulses of your walls over his cock, a confident grin puffing out tired breaths.

You grip his biceps when he does one final hit that sends you over the edge, thighs and hips shaking when he does. You feel it in your whole body, goosebumps rising like you can’t handle it, back nearly aching in an arch that settles back down. Your moan turns into a cry – a real cry. You shudder while your body comes down, tears pouring down your cheeks and you can’t quite get yourself to settle down.

“Oh, honey no, did I hurt you? Are you okay?” Eddie swallows, voice back to soothing comfort while he eases up, “What’samatter? Did you not like it?”

You wipe your eyes but the tears still come, you shake your head no. Embarrassed from blubbering you try to cover your face but he smooths your hands away, “What’s wrong, Peach? Please talk to me. Was that too much? Was I too rough?”

“N-no,” you laugh a little, “Sorry, this is r-ridiculous. I’m – m’okay.”

“You don’t look okay,” he says. He settles on his calves, easing you up to sitting – with some coaxing he gets you straddled in his lap. The exhaustion from your orgasm distracts you from the stickiness between your thighs, the uncomfortable wetness leftover between your legs. You feel sleepy and soggy.

“Did I do something?” he asks again, hands cupping your cheeks while his thumbs swipe away oncoming tears.

“N-no it was ju-just really intense,” you swallow and cough, another sob racking through you, “J-just came really hard.”

He nods, looking at you intensely, “Do you just want me to hold you?”

You nod back and without a second though he pulls you tight into him, bringing you both back down sideways on the mattress. He lets you let it out, running the backs of his fingers along your back until you start to calm down, sobs shuddering down into sharp breaths, to normal ones, to slow.

“A little better?” he asks, quiet and sweet. You nod with your eyes closed, cheek squished against the comforter. Eddie smiles, easing the condom off his now softened shaft and tossing it in the bin under his night stand. He soothes you for a while, sitting on the side of you and running his palms over your back and thighs, over your calves, selfishly over the swell of your ass. He puts pressure on your lower back, between your shoulder blades, the top of your neck.

“This is really nice,” you croak out, feeling the warmth of his hands cascade gently over you.

“Sometimes it’s nice to just get worshiped, huh?”

You nod again, breaths steady, “Yeah.”

“Yeah,” he confirms, “You deserve it, don’t you?”

“I do,” you smile.

“That’s my girl,” he coos. My girl, my girl, my girl.

It echoes through the both of you, the declaration – the claim, but neither of you say anything.In fact at this point, it looks like you might’ve fallen asleep.

Eddie takes the throw that had been pushed to the floor and covers you up for now, he’ll wake you later for pajamas and water and a snack. For now he figures you should just rest, you look so cute like this – all worn out ‘cause of him. He quietly slips on a pair of socks and gray sweats and pads his way downstairs to make you something, swiping up his phone to see two missed messages from Steve on his screen.

Big Guy💪👔 37m ago Did you just bitch button me?

Big Guy💪👔 37m ago What the fuck?

Big Guy💪👔 36m ago Photo notification.

Eddie rolls his eyes, opening his phone to his texts. His eye roll stops when the picture of Bandit curled up on his bed by the sliding door pops up. Eddie said the bed was way too big for him, but Steve insisted he’d grow into it.

Eddiesorry dude, i was busy. u around?

Big Guy💪👔 0m ago Taking Bandit on a night walk. You okay? You have a show tonight?

EddieNah. 🍆🍆🍆🍆🍆

Big Guy💪👔 0m ago Hell yeah dude 😎 Congrats!

Eddiethanks man.just putting something together for her for when she wakes up.

Big Guy💪👔 0m ago fucked her to sleep lol

Eddie gotta change my middle name to nyquil 😎

Big Guy💪👔 0m ago so it was good huh?

Eddie i’ll tell you all the horny details tomorrow but honestly dude? i might end up loving this one.

He wakes you up later leaving gentle kisses on your forehead, set of his comfy clothes in his hand for you, “Made you a little snack downstairs, you hungry?”

You stretch, nodding, feeling a dull ache in your hips and inner thighs. You frown when he eases the throw off of you, forcing you to stand up and get dressed. Eddie’s scent is prevalent on his clothes, enveloping you again when he does the same with his arms.

“You sure you’re okay?” he asks again.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” you assure, looking up at him, “Now, don’t get a big head about this or anything – but that was easily some of the best sex I’ve had in my life.”

He lets go of you, shrugging with a smile and tilt of his head, “What can I say? I –”

“I said don’t get a big head,” you warn, stifling a giggle, “Don’t you go around bragging about it either.”

“Okay, okay, I won’t, I promise,” he holds his hands up, leading the way down the stairs.

“Not even Steve.” You follow him down, body taking over to lead you to the snacks he laid out on the counter of the island.

“Not even Steve,” he repeats, picking up his phone again.

Eddie she just told me that this was the best sex she’s ever had in her life lol i’m the fucking man

Big Guy💪👔 0m ago you da man 😎

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#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson fluff #older!eddie #older!eddie munson

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forfucksakesniall · 1 year ago

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Hi bestie, when you have the time could you make something for lewis, like just domestic vibes and/or he being a complete simp

Domestic Vibes and being a Complete Simp

Pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader

Trigger Warning/Content Advisory: Too much fluff

He doesn't show it much, but Lewis is a huge cuddler. When it's a lazy morning, he would bury his face in the crook of your neck and wrap his arms around you. It's a force of habit by now.

Lewis doesn't mind being the "little spoon," wrapping his arms around you as you both cuddle. His reason is because he can hear your heartbeat, but you know why he lays on your chest. You can feel the way he nuzzles his face and leaves small kisses.

He would turn the TV on and watch your favorite shows together while your koala of a boyfriend cuddles under a cozy blanket.

He talks about cooking pasta in an interview, but in reality, he is a menace in the kitchen.

But you enjoy spending time "trying" to cook something decent with him in the kitchen.

"No, Lewis. You need to add the water after." He does his old man laugh. "Oh well, we can just do it again. I guess."

When working out on his balcony in Monaco, he would encourage you to join him, making him your personal trainer. "Just one more, baby," he whispers in your ear. "I can't anymore, Lew." you try to catch your breath. "But you've only done one squat, baby."

When he did have work, he would wake up early and give you a kiss on the head before getting ready. Before he leaves the house, he would give you a kiss goodbye while you were still asleep and leave a message on your phone to see when you get up.

Lewis:

Good morning, baby.

Didn't want to wake you up.

You deserve some rest after last night ;)

I'll see you later.

I love you so much!

I love you too!!

If you ever did wake up before he left, he'd make breakfast for you and make sure to use all the time he has with you.

"You'll be late!" you tell him while he has you caged under him. "I still have some time, baby. Just let me take care of you. Don't want you feeling neglected."

When he comes late, you would wait for him in bed watching a movie or reading a book.

"Hey, baby. Why are you still awake?" he asks you. "I wanted to wait for you. You've been gone all day."

Both of you would end up in long, late-night conversations about life and dreams, making sure you always feel listened to and supported.

There may be times when you feel under the weather or when your hormones are acting up. He would stay with you longer and even call in sick if needed.

"You shouldn't have done that... This will pass. I'll be fine later anyway," you say as you cradle his face while lying in bed.

"I don't want to leave knowing that you're not feeling okay. I would be thinking about you even if I leave. Might as well stay here and take care of you," he says, leaning in close to give you a sweet kiss.

Lewis is known for being fashion-forward. While he shops for himself, he would go to the women's section to check out anything that you might like.

He would come home with dozens of bags from different brands."Looks like someone had Christmas early," you tease him. "Oh baby, this isn't even close to Christmas for you," he tells you while setting all the bags down on the floor. "I need you to be a good girl and try some things for me," he winks while getting more bags from the car.

He is seen on all your social media posts. He can't resist leaving flirty comments and adorable emojis, making sure everyone knows he's head over heels for you.

Lewis is known to be very private with his life, definitely with you. So, whenever you guys were in public, he would always take you to a place where there's a private area to be with you. Being this protective also had its perks. He knows that after they serve your food, no one would come over to check on you two again unless you both are done with your meals. He would be really handsy under the table. Light touches on your arm, the way he looks into your eyes then lips and at the same time leans in closer to you. At this point, the only thing stopping him was the table between you.

But when you're with him or your friends, he doesn't shy away from PDA. He would hug you from behind, holding your waist, have you sit on his lap, kiss your cheek from time to time, and whisper sweet nothings.

Lewis loves taking pictures with you or of you, creating a personalized gallery of your love story.

#lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton fanfic #lewis hamilton fanfics #lewis hamilton fanfiction #lewis hamilton fic #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton x you #lewis hamilton blurb #sir lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton imagines #lewis hamilton one shot #lewis hamilton oneshot #f1 fandom #f1 x reader #f1 imagine

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zeltqz · 1 year ago

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could you please make ran haitani with a heavy breeding kink where he uses plugs to keep his cum deep inside you …. then pulls it out to watch his cum oozes out of you, askig you to lick the plug clean as he cleans you up with his tongue

“Are you ready to go?”

Ran hears your voice ask from the bedroom and he chuckles around his cigarette. “Are you ready to go? You’re still up there.”

“Almost!” You run your finger down the thigh slit on your dress and bite your lip excitedly. Ran was going to love this. You’re wearing the dress you noticed him eyeing in the store last month when he took you shopping, and bought it in secret just for this event tonight.

Downstairs, Ran stubs out his cigarette and goes back inside, pulling his vape out instead. He sits heavily on the couch, stretching his long limbs out and pulls his phone out to text Rin he might be a little late. He purposefully ignores the annoyed emoji Rin sends back almost immediately and chuckles to himself. Ran’s never on time anywhere regardless if you were taking extra long to get ready, so this shouldn’t be that surprising.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, you walk down the stairs, heels click-clacking against his marble floor.

He pulls out his car keys, spinning them around his index finger. “Finally, baby, you’re ready. I cancelled the cab since you took long, so we should probably get goi—” His voice trails off when he turns to look at you, eyebrows rising slowly as he looks you up and down. “What are you wearing?”

“A dress?” You don't even bother hiding the mischievous smirk on your face. “What? Don’t like it? I can go change if you want—” You barely manage to turn around, head back up the stairs, before he’s standing up from the couch, crossing the distance between you.

He grabs your arm that was about to hold onto the staircase and pulls you back into his chest. He feels so big behind you, his chest pressing into your back, and he smells so good you can’t help the bashful smile on your face. Even after dating for three years, you still can’t confidently look this man in the eye sometimes, still making you feel like a shy highschool girl with a crush.

“Who bought this for you?” His voice is beside your ear, lips brushing the shell of your ear as he dips his head down to your shoulder.

“I bought it myself…I saw you eyeing it in the store and wanted to surprise you.”

His hands snake around your waist, and one goes further down, trailing the thigh slit with the tips of his fingers, making you squirm under his touch.

“W-we should get going. We’re going to be late.” You manage to escape his bear trap and head over to the front to grab your coat.

“Oh we’re not going anywhere tonight.” Ran moves to sit on the couch, legs spread in a manspread that sends arousal straight between your legs.

“What? Why? I was excited to see everyone tonight.”

“Gotta do something about this baby.” He points to his lap. You follow the finger downwards to see an absolute tent in his pants, his boner sticking straight up.

“...Ran…” Your reluctance is only for show, and you’re aware he knows that as he smirks.

“What did you expect? C’mere.” You roll your eyes as you walk over towards the couch, sitting beside him. He looks unimpressed at you before you giggle and shift onto his lap. You swallow harshly as he drags his eyes up and down your body in front of him, hands squeezing at your waist as he readjusts your body on top of him.

“You knew what you were doin’ wearing this tonight, didn’t you?” Ran asks against your ear, running his hands up and down your hips and thighs.

“I—oh fuck Ran—” You none too gently tugged on his hair as he lays a litany of sloppy kisses along your neck that had your back arching for more. His mouth latches onto a particularly sensitive spot right under your jaw that had you moaning, tilting your head upwards for more access.

“I asked you a question baby.” His voice rumbles against your neck. He moves downwards, kissing down your neck, the exposed plane of your chest and collarbone. His other hand slides up the thigh slit, tugging at your panties and he tugs on them as he sucks and licks along the skin above your breast.

“You wanted to go outside like this, give every fucker in that place a heart attack at the sight of you, didn’t you, hm baby?”

“Mm-mm,” you breathe out, shaking your head. “Just for you.”

“Better be. How much did this dress cost?”

Reluctantly, you pull away from his touch and raise an eyebrow at him. “...why?”

“Just wanna know how expensive it is.”

“Once again, why?”

“So I don’t feel bad for ripping it off your body,” he says, grinning charmingly at you.

“Even if it was cheap I don’t want you ripping my clothes!”

He looks down at the expensive black watch on his wrist. “Well we’re on a time crunch right now so either I rip it off you or fuck you in it. Pick one.”

You bite your lip as you think. “The second option.”

“Great.” He pushes you off him and stands up, unzipping his pants. “Turn around on your stomach, and put your ass up.”

“This is so degrading,” you huff under your breath but obey, pushing all the cushions off the couch and get into position. He doesn’t pull his pants down, only removes his cock from his brief and kneels behind you.

He licks his finger and your back arches as he slowly dips it inside. You hid your soft moan in your arm as you tried to stay as still as possible, your pussy drenching at this point when he added a second finger.

“Fuck.” He put his spare hand on your asscheek, spreading it to get a better view of his fingers plunging in and out of your pussy. He curls them and smirks when your back arches even more, pushing back desperately against his fingers, wishing it was his cock. “Baby wants more, hm?”

“ Yes .”

He snorts and removes his finger, sucking them into his mouth before aligning his cock up to your pussy. He didn’t bother letting you adjust before he snapped his hips against yours, his cock feeling like it pierced through you. You scream into the couch, nails digging into the arm of the couch as he snaps his hips ruthlessly back and forth, barely giving you time to breathe. The pace was punishing and unforgiving so much that you could barely hold yourself up anymore, your arms giving out and you collapse onto your elbows.

The new angle has more screams tearing straight through your throat, hands scrabbling to reach behind you and grip onto his hands on your hips. He dug his fingers into the soft flesh of your hips and stopped his relentless pace, stilling with his cock tickling somewhere deep inside you.

“What is it?” he asks, pushing your hand away from his.

“T—too fast,” you whimper into the couch, repositioning yourself, arms holding yourself upright.

He pulls out and flips you onto your back, pushing the loose fabric of your dress out of the way so he can get a better look at you beneath him. You loop your arms around his shoulders and press your mouth against his as he realigned himself, his cock sliding easily thanks to how wet you were.

Your mouth drops open at the full stretch of this angle, pleasure gushing through your entire body as he slid all the way in, hips pressed against yours. Ran fucks into you slowly for a bit, giving you the space to catch your breath after the previous position, for your walls to start squeezing around his cock again, and then he thrusts balls deep inside you without warning, chuckling when your hand instantly flew to your mouth.

“Wanna hear you princess,” he murmurs by your ear, gripping onto the arm of the couch behind you.

“I—I’m so close Ran, p—please don’t stop—”

“Wasn’t planning to.” He grunts heavily on top of you, spurring you on and spreading your legs even wider to feel his cock deeper, feel his hips slamming against yours, pushing you deeper into the leather couch. “Gonna fill this pussy up. You’d like that? Want to go to this party with my cum plugging this tight pussy? Huh?”

You nod rapidly, moans spilling hastily from your mouth coupled up with whispered chants of his name and “i’m so close, don’t stop baby please, keep going.”

Your nails dug into his shoulders through his suit, eyes squeezing shut as you came on his cock, letting out a silent scream. His hips stutter and he hides his face into your neck and he lets out a low groan of your name before his thrusts come to a stop, his cum seeping inside you, filling you up.

The two of you lay there for a minute, breathing in sync with one another before he sits upright. He’s hesitant to pull his cock out, missing the warmth of your tight heat but does it anyway, and it doesn’t disappoint. The sight of his white cum seeping from your tight hole makes him groan again and stick a finger inside you to keep it plugged.

“Ran,” you call out and he hums in affirmation, looking downwards at his finger slowly scooping more of his cum back inside you. “Were you serious about sending me to the party plugged up?”

“If you’re down for it I would.” He looks up at you. “You wanna?”

You nod and he smirks, pressing one more kiss to your lips before slipping off the couch and fixing himself back into his pants. He tells you he’ll be right back and goes upstairs. He returns back with a plug from a box of your sex toys and kneels in front of you. It’s cold as it presses into your pussy and you let out a soft weak moan as he plugs you up.

“If that’s still in you after the party I’ll give you a treat when we get back, alright baby?”

“O-okay.”

He helps you refix your dress, thankfully it didn’t rip, and there were a few wet stains from your juices but it blended right in with the black fabric. Ran got his suit a little wet so he went and changed and drove you both to the event. To no-one’s surprise, nobody even questioned why Ran was almost forty five minutes late. A few hours into the party, you were exhausted, social battery completely dried up and you went back to over to Ran’s table, squeezing past his friends to sit on his lap. He pauses his conversation with his friends and leans up to hear you whisper that you’re tired. He stands up and takes your hand, telling his friends he has to go take you home, and ignoring the complaints that he’s gotten too soft. He drove you back home and helped you out of your heels as you collapsed on the bed still in your dress, your eyes threatening to fall asleep.

“Ah-ah,” Ran tuts, shaking his head. “You don’t want your surprise?”

“What surprise?”

He kneels in front of you and spreads your legs, watching your eyes widen as you remember you’ve been plugged up. He removes it and groans lowly at the sight of his cum seeping out, colouring your pussy lips white.

“Open your mouth baby.” He holds the plug to your lips and you open your mouth wide, sucking on the plug as he lowers himself between your legs.

His tongue snakes out and licks into your pussy, tasting himself and your juices on his tongue. It doesn’t even bother him, too drunk off the taste and scent of your pussy and he hooks his arms around your thighs, pulling you closer. Your moans are muffled around the plug as his tongue circles around your clit, sucking until your back arches and hip stutters, lifting off the bed. He holds you down well enough, and the overwhelming sensation of his tongue flicking your clit has you pulling the plug from your mouth to grab at his hair, tugging and holding it as leverage until your vision blacks out and you’re cumming on his face.

He doesn’t stop licking, his tongue now pressing into your pussy until your body can’t take it anymore. Your legs kick uselessly in the air and your hand tries pushing him off whilst pulling him closer, wanting to feel his nose brushing against your clit. He presses one long last final kiss to your pussy lips before pulling away.

#—tr </3 #ran x reader #haitani ran x reader #ran haitani x reader #tokyorev x reader #tokrev x reader #tokrev #ran smut #haitani ran smut

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