#maybe i can buy another bottle soon

[rexscanonwife]

Ough good morning everyone (its almost noon) I know I'm kind of in a tf2 mood lately but I CAN'T BELIEVE MY SECOND ANNIVERSARY WITH REX IS TOMORROW!!! 💖💘💖💘💖💘💖💘💖

[cathnospam]

Posttimeskip/Canon!Bakugo Katsuki NSFW Alphabet

Thanks for 100 follows :-P

(((Black girlfriend reader mentioned a few times, if you are not black or a girl you can obviously ignore it.)))

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

You were his first everything so with that you wanted to teach him just a few things like aftercare. However, Bakugo already had to down to a science. He didn’t like sleeping in sweat and cum so he’d offer you to take a shower while he puts new sheets on the bed and he joins you a little later. He noticed how thirsty you get after so he’d bring a water bottle and some juice/tea, maybe even a sweet snack if you don’t fall asleep too soon. A lot of this stuff was common sense except the cuddle part. It’s not like he didn’t want to hold you after it was just awkward for him. He just had you cross eye’d and crying on his dick now you him to be held and babied? But after some reassurance that you definitely do and you also wanted to make sure if you did good. “Of course you did dumbass you always do.” Is what he could huff out hearing such nonsense.

Post nut clarity Bakugo is softer, more touchier somehow and quiet. He’d much rather hear your yapping and he just responds with “Yeah.” “Of course” “No. dumbass” with a lot of kissing in between of course

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Yeah we all know he loves ass. He does, shamelessly so, smacking it while eating you out, smacking it when your back is faced him, patting it while you lay on his lap . But he loves your lips just as much. They’re like pillows, bouncy, and incredibly soft. It’s like a sweet flavor as well knowing you always have different types of lipgloss to wear.

I don’t think he is very particular of any part of his body, but since dating you, you love to talk about his back and arms, the way you hug him from behind or grab onto his arm walking through a crowd. More importantly how you scratch his back when he’s inside you and claw his shoulders when he keeps overstimulating you. It’s become partial motivation to his workout now.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Bakugo actually practices safe sex 90% of the time. He isn’t prepared to have any children yet and he doesn’t want any scares so he does at least buy the ULTRA thin condoms. However. The day you finally let him w/o a condom for his birthday he almost came faster than usual which actually made him upset LMAOO.

“What the—F-FFUCK!”

“Y-Y’ok—“

“I AM!…just…fuck this feel good.”

So he will cum in you or on your ass, and smack it with his dick because he seems clean but he’s such a dirty bastard at heart.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He doesn’t keep many secrets from you but the few are really only justified. The first one was that when you both were making out for the first time you grinded against his semi hard dick and he let out a soft moan in your mouth. You never pointed it out but it sounded so hot and it almost threw him off because he never made that noise before. After that, for the next few months before you both finally had sex he thought of that feeling alone to get off when masturbating. Not his finest moment but he couldn’t help it.

He likes when you pull his hair but you only did it once and he’ll be damned if he asks you to do it again. Do it again

Another one would be when you and him were just talking and not having sex yet he used to only watch porn where the people looked similar to you. So he’d sometimes type up Asian guy x black girl or some shit. He was actually using it to mentally prepare himself for when he does fuck you and it’s something he isn’t ready to ever tell you because he knows getting sex advice from porn is absolutely terrible.

Speaking of getting prepared he also asked Kiri for some advice on how to eat you out. Bakugo used to watch a lot of oral sex videos and honestly he really was most nervous about that part, he’s aware he wasn’t the best kisser at first and the last thing he wanted to do was bite you or something so he simply asked his best friend that loss his virginity before him the question: “Where is the clit?”

He swore Kiri to secrecy to never speak of that conversation again after that.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

A virgin up until he dated you. Like I said you’re his first everything so teaching him was actually something you were expected to do, however his pride always got the best of him so when you corrected him he’d always get pissy.

“My clit is here—“

“I fucking know that.”

So instead of verbally telling him what to do you you showed him with your body, moaning louder when he hits or licks the right spot, praising him when he uses the right move. He caught onto this quick and by the time it was the 2nd round he was damn near perfect

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

A lot of people say backshots but I personally think Lotus and honorable mention is missionary Hear me out: Bakugo gives vanilla. He just does he doesn’t need all the special positions and areas to fuck he just wants you, him, and a comfortable surface preferably a bed or couch. He doesn’t want to be perceived as some sex freak or anything he is very simple when it comes to sex. Mostly because he’s so shy but won’t admit it.

The Lotus Position is something that actually overwhelms him in the best way possible. Your foreheads touching, your breast pushed up against his as he assist your push to keep grinding and bouncing against him, FUCK does he love the noises you make in his ear when you’re close too, biting him as you cum. He kisses you a lot too to swallow some of your sounds. How your hands creep onto his neck moaning his name. Plus he is squeezing your ass as you both move in sync. He loves it.

Missionary is almost a ties in because he feels he has the most control. Yeah he can be soft but he still loves to be in charge. He likes the intimacy that comes with these positions so best believe it’s a go to.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Unintentionally. He has always been so funny to you, but he likes it believe he is serious during sex. Yet you can’t help but giggle when he makes a comment about blaming you for making him get so close to cumming.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He has a visible happy trail. Doesn’t grow much so he never needs to trim it, he was going to cut it off the day after you had sex with him the first time and you were able to stop him. Bakugo wanted to make his pelvic area smooth for you because he was worried his hair was itchy to you, once you explained it felt good to feel it on your pussy when he fucked you he haven’t touched it since.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Well….he can try. You can tell when he tries but bless his heart he is so damn aggressive on accident. He once tried to give you a massage but his own sweat mixed with the oil cause his hand to slip so much to the point he got mad and pop a small explosion on your lower back.

You still have the small burn mark and laugh at it from time to time. He doesn’t laugh though he regrets it a lot.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He masturbates…often. He has for years and even after graduating high school he only did it every other day or week when he was really tense or couldn’t sleep. But ever since he got with you it stopped.

Because you do it for him.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

He’d tell you he doesn’t have any. Which is half true.

He is pretty vanilla, BUT from the last few times you tried something new you noticed he enjoyed a couple things:

Overstimulation is always fun, he used to do it on accident. Now, it’s almost expected to happen after oral or penetrative sex. Something about that second orgasm really puts him in a whole ‘ other cloud 9 he can’t even explain. It’s the rarest times he’s ever selfish with you sexually.

Praise Kink 100000%. It’s so funny to see the frustrated look on his face of focusing to not cum when you’re in his ear telling him how amazing he is and how nobody else could make you feel this way. Gets him hard every time.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

He does enjoy the bed, but he has a huge couch in his dorm, he ate you out a few times during a movie and it led to you on top riding him. It felt so cozy falling asleep after that now 90% of the movie nights y’all have in his dorm leads to something not so wholesome.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

You.

Your reactions, your twitches, your moans, the way you say his name it all drives him more to keep going and practicing to get better for you. He absolutely loses his MIND the way you cry out for him too.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He will not ever do anything like humiliation or too much violence like slapping your face. He knows he can be abrasive as it is on accident and even the thought of going to far and harming you would possibly cause him to take a pause on sex no matter how much he loves it

I am 50/50 on somno. I believe he wants you alert to what he’s doing to you for his own peace of mind. But he wouldn’t be opposed to him waking up to YOU touching him.

He’s not a big fan of “daddy”, he won’t stop what he’s doing but he’d rather hear his name or “baby” or even a nickname you made out of his name.

You will not peg him. He is very sensitive about his ass.

No threesomes or anybody watching. Call him selfish, but your body is his in his mind so he’d prefer if nobody sees what you have only blessed him with.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

LOVES giving. Way more than he will admit, there has been days where he’d finish sparring with someone and to release the stress he had from Deku almost beating his ass again he came to your dorm and offered to lay between your thighs as you studied.

You didn’t get much studying done.

He’s improved on his skill too. However he’s constantly messy, it’s not just kitten licks with this man he sucks and fingers and even nibbles on you like he’ll never eat you again. It’s almost selfish.

He loves the feel of your pussy against his tongue, he doesn’t taste much. If you were to ask him what you taste like he would say nothing, really but the warm, slimy slick just does something to him. If he could he’d eat you for hours

Now that doesn’t mean he doesn’t love seeing you gag and swallow his dick absolutely not. When you both started getting more physical you actually sucked his dick quite often (since he was afraid to eat you out at the time) he would actually anticipate on it whenever you both were alone so he’d keep his sweats incredibly low to his waist on purpose

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Bakugo an intense guy so he starts off slow and his touches gradually turn more focused towards your reactions. He’s consistently looking into your eyes with every noise you make, each thrust is deep and nearly knocks the wind out of you. It’s not until he’s close he begins to chase that high, breathing into your mouth, circling your clit w his fingers, and going faster with slightly shallow thrusts.

He’s a big kisser btw so be prepared for little to no air because if he’s not kissing your low lips he’s kissing your upper lips with each thrust swallowing your cries

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Hates em.

The idea is always fun to him but when he realizes he has to stop right when he’s getting started he hates it. He wants to take his time. He probably enjoys foreplay the most which is why he can’t stand having to make it short.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Bakugo is pretty stubborn and doesn’t like too much change but if you’re willing to reassure him about what you want he may consider. It can’t be any of the no though.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Man can last a while. He can even if he’s sensitive, but he can last EVEN LONGER in between breaks. Just as long as you cock warm him. An average night of sex with him is usually 30-35 minutes, but including foreplay is actually an all day thing. Foreplay can start from the moment you wake up and he’s kissing you good morning all the way to that evening when you both are showering together and his fingers are creeping between your thighs

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Doesn’t understand toys but if you’re willing pick like a vibrator he wouldn’t mind it. You just can’t use it too much, he has read those things can fuck up your sensitivity and he’ll be DAMNED if he loses to a TOY

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Bakugo actually wasn’t that much of a teaser until you brought it out of him. When he went down on your once he kept kissing and biting your thighs for WAY too long that you began to whine his name. Once he heard that pretty little “please” slip through your tongue something just snapped. He loves to hear you beg now so occasionally he’ll edge you or tease you a bit before giving you what you want.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He’s not that loud. A few mumbles of your name and a couple groans is the most you’ll get because he wants to hear you more. When he’s close he’ll begin to say a few “cum with me” “cum for me’s” which is so hot to hear since his voice breaks when he’s cumming

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He learned sign language through out the years after finding out his hearing was becoming worse and he taught you as well. Now you both communicate in public through SL, and a few times he said the nastiest shit to you across the room during a lecture.

Bonus: He’s a big Pokémon nerd. Loves Gengar, Charizard, and Growlithe.

Bonus two: He has a secret tattoo he got when he turned 21

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Bakugo is a more length than girth guy. He’s a shower and cut. About 7.8ish inches and it curves to the left. He also had a beauty mark on the left side of his shaft and pelvic area.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Y’all have sex about 4-5 times a week. If yall miss a week spike it up to 6 because he needs to release some stress

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

You fall asleep before him so after taking care of you and cleaning you up he usually waits until you’re sleep and follows suit. Sometimes when you’re still yapping and he’s ready to go to bed he’ll gently fan your eyelids to close with his fingers. Somehow it works everytime and you slowly stop talking a dm cuddle in his chest.

[davdcorenswet]

🌪️ whirlwind.

scott miller x reader Synopsis: the bar has always been a safe haven after a long week of storm-chasing, but when tyler owens decides you’re his lucky charm for the night, you find that scott’s control has its limits. Word Count: 6.4k (pls don't look at me) Warnings: SMUT 18+ MINORS DNI!!!, mentions of near-death experiences, tornadoes (obviously), brief insinuations to cheating, tyler is a pot-stirrer, public sex, dry humping, fingering (f!receiving), degradation, nipple play (f!receiving), orgasm delay, biting?, scott miller has a whore mouth, minor choking, use of pet names (baby, sweetheart), lots of dirty talk, no use of y/n A/N: my first time posting fic & writing for scott so pls go easy on me 🥺 sometimes you just have to let a smug little asshole take over ur entire life, am i right? if you enjoyed, pls feel free to reblog or give it a like and as always, my inbox is open if you want to chat!!! 🤍

It’s been a grueling week, one tornado after another hammering Oklahoma into a state of disarray.

You’re still shaken from the last one, the anxiety of being alone in a motel with your thoughts almost unbearable. You’ve tried to avoid being alone since then, afraid that something worse is always on the horizon, and the thought of being isolated in a room while the rest of the team is out doesn’t sit well.

The bar, though, is a familiar sanctuary. A small comfort amidst the chaos. Even though you’re drained and the idea of socializing feels monumental, tradition is tradition. Javi’s sad puppy eyes and the inevitable guilt trip on the drive back to HQ tomorrow is enough to push you out of bed and into the shower.

And, as much as you don’t want to go, it feels wrong when even Scott makes an effort to go.

By the time you step into the dimly lit bar, clinking glasses and the hum of chatter soothe your worries quickly away. Whirlwind may have seen more than its fair share of fights and other throes of debauchery, but it was a frequent, favorite stop.

And it’s already packed. Between the locals and the other storm-chasers crowding the space, you can’t find Storm Par anywhere. A roar of laughter strikes from the pool tables, and you quickly pocket your phone, realizing you’ll have no luck calling or texting when it won’t even be heard over the noise.

Oh, well. You’ll find them soon enough. Making your way to the bar to greet Jack, the burly bartender who’s been running the place for years and has grown more familiar to you the more you frequent, you hear — rather than see — one of the storm-chasers you were hoping to avoid tonight.

Tyler. God damn. Owens.

You weren’t struck by his Southern charm — your days of easy flattery were past you — but he was hard to ignore. Then again, you should’ve known better by now. Tyler always seemed to be at his best when he had a crowd buzzing around him.

“I thought tonight couldn’t get any better, and then you walked in,” he drawls, finding a space alongside you as he sets his empty beer bottle down, his voice smooth. “Can I buy you a drink, darlin’?”

You consider turning him down, not sure if you’re up for his ego tonight, but you also know Tyler. He wasn't swayed easily, especially if he saw a challenge. Besides, a free drink was well, free, and as grating as he could get, you supposed one couldn't hurt. So you nod. “Sure, why not.”

Jack, who’d wordlessly gotten your drink as Tyler approached, sets a bottle of your favorite down in front of you, his brow raising to get your attention. You hesitate before taking it and catch his gaze shift slightly past you.

Before you get a chance to follow, Tyler steals your focus with a grin, the ever-present pain in your ass. You can’t fight your instincts to be polite. “So tell me. What’s a girl like you doin’ in a place like this?”

You meet his gaze, all swirling hues and open attraction. Maybe if you were that kind of girl, his smooth, clichéd lines would work on you. But you weren’t that girl. You preferred sensible. Practical. Safe. It was why you’d joined Storm Par in the first place, rather than one of the many other crews. This tornado wrangler just wasn’t for you.

Unfortunately for Tyler, he always seemed to miss that memo.

“Same as everyone else, I guess.” You laugh half-heartedly. Maybe if the conversation is light enough, you can slip away without it turning into a spectacle. “Just looking to unwind.”

If Tyler notices your lack of enthusiasm, he doesn’t show it. Instead, he makes a show of settling into his spot next to you, grin stretching wide. The beer in his hands is fresh and cold, same as yours, though unlike yourself he’s already taken a few drinks while you start to pick at the label. Javi would've poked fun by now, but your friend is nowhere near. Typical.

Tyler takes another drink, resting his arm on the bar, your eyes drifting to his tanned bicep. His grin stretches when he catches you looking, and you try not to scowl at falling for his display.

He continues with a well-used, “Well, you sure do brighten up the place.”

Thank god. Playing along, you don’t waste a second as your gaze wanders eagerly around the bar. From your new position you spot a cluster of tables on the other side of the room, Storm Par filling out the seats.

Scott sits alone at one of them, as he always did, but his posture is rigid, and even from a distance you can tell his focus is far from the game of darts Javi tries to include him in. Unsurprising. But rather than being distracted by his phone, worrying about the next job the team would have to take, his eyes are locked in on you.

The intensity makes you shiver. A few bottles sit empty next to him, and you only know they’re his by the unmistakable Guinness label adorning the side. A half-empty glass rests in his hand like he’d meant to take a sip before catching sight of Tyler.

Since joining Storm Par, the number of things you knew about Scott could be counted on your fingers. And in that time, you’d never seen him unwind. Not truly, anyway. As frustrating as it could be, you'd come to respect Scott's unwavering demeanor.

Amidst the chaos, no matter how intense it got, Scott was the stoic anchor of the team. There was a reason for his lectures and regulations. He was as dependable as the code he lived by, but most of the team often dismissed it as rigid and unnecessary. You knew it took strength and reliability to remain true to your values.

Much like you were forgoing now, your polite smile tight on your lips.

Beyond Javi, the rest of the team is scattered around Whirlwind, some dancing with reckless abandon on the makeshift dance floor while others clink shots over a job well done with the other storm-chasing crews. Scott is still firmly planted on the barstool, setting his glass down with a white-knuckled grip.

Tyler, of course, pays no attention. He leans in, casually inching closer to you, wrapping up some story of an exaggerated Wrangler exploit. Close enough to brush against you. When you glance down at the contact, Tyler notices where you’ve grown distracted, that easygoing grin slipping as he takes in your view.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Tyler says with a sigh, head shaking in disbelief. “Just admit it — I’m a hell of a lot more fun than Storm Cloud over there.”

You disagree, but keep it to yourself. Tyler and his crew were reckless, and, sure, while there was some level of risk that came with what you all did, there was a clear difference between you and them. 

It was part of what had drawn you to Scott in the first place. He was meticulous and no-nonsense, quick to call out mistakes whether you were out in the field or back in the office. But even Scott wasn't immune to a lecture or two — something he'd gone to great lengths to keep under lock and key.

And you only knew by accident.

Another sleepless night had driven you out of your room in search of coffee, leading you to a diner where you’d stumbled across him and Riggs in a heated discussion. Your Mama had taught you manners about eavesdropping, but you were frozen in place, listening to Riggs furiously drill into Scott over another fuck up (not his fault) and whether he was serious or not about the work they were doing. Before you could slip away unnoticed, not wanting to be lectured too, Scott’s eyes met yours, giving you a small, subtle shake of his head.

You’d run straight back to your room after, hoping that maybe it'd been a weird nightmare and you’d wake up to business as usual. But after another hour of tossing and turning, Scott’s familiar knock sounded at your door, and when you’d gathered the courage to meet him face to face, he’d looked just as conflicted as you felt. After what you’d heard, the way Scott took responsibility for every mistake and didn't throw anyone under the bus, keeping it between you two was the least you could do.

Something changed after that night. When a particularly nasty tornado touched ground a few weeks later and nearly swept you up in it, nobody questioned Scott’s decision to reassign you to Scarecrow. Nobody questioned why your partner had quit shortly after, either.

Scott still hadn’t asked why you’d been awake that night, just the same as you didn’t ask about Riggs.

You glance over at Scott again now, the memory fresh in your mind. His knuckles are just as white as when you’d found him in the diner, expression still shadowed, like he’s torn between intervening and letting it play out. But even with a crowd between you and the two men, the tension is thick, crackling in the air.

Tyler leans in closer, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper as glances over at Scott. “He’s got that brooding thing down to an art, doesn’t he? Don’t you ever crave a little spontaneity?”

You shift away from Tyler, the weight of Scott’s gaze growing heavy. From the corner of your eye you can just barely make out the hard set to his jaw, no longer working the cinnamon gum he obsessively kept on him. You manage a tight smile, distracted, as Javi’s voice rises briefly above the noise — your attention divided between the brewing storm on the other end of the bar and the eye of the one you were currently stuck in.

“I… I think we all have our reasons for sticking around.” You say, just as Javi finally notices you, his smile dimming as his gaze slides to Tyler.

Shit.

“Oh, I’m sure you do.” Tyler’s drawl is playful, almost teasing, and if he sees that you’re not even looking at him anymore, he doesn’t seem to care. “I’m just saying. If you ever want to get away from Clipboard over there...”

This time you do look with a flash of agitation. “If I wanted that, I’d be part of your team, Tyler. Not his.”

“Now, hold on, just hear me out for a second.” Tyler takes another pull from his drink, but when he sets it back down, he’s too close yet again. Fingers brush unwarranted against you, his touch lingering in a way that immediately makes your skin crawl. “How about we make a deal? Let me show you a good time tonight, and I promise you won’t even remember his name by the end of it.”

The suggestion hangs heavy in the air. You're only just barely aware of the way your features shift as background noise fades and you’re left with a high-pitched ringing in your ears, each emotion rolling through you longer to process than the last. By the time disgust sets in, flinching away from his wandering hands, you see past the red just enough to catch his grin widening in amusement.

And you realize, with terrifying clarity, that he’s been toying with you the whole night, just to start something with your team. You try not to tremble, swallowing your rage, and remind yourself that you'll be kicked out if dump your drink on him.

A stool scrapes loudly from the other side of the room. Whatever semblance of peace snaps.

“Uh oh.” Tyler notices Scott’s approach, and has the audacity to flash you a smile. “Looks like we’ve got company. He sure knows how to kill a mood, doesn’t he?”

You don't have a chance to respond, Scott stopping beside you, barely restrained anger coming off him in waves. You instinctively step closer to him, your drink forgotten and unwanted on the bar. His eyes flash with anger as he regards Tyler, that muscle working overtime in his jaw — and you know he's seen everything, from Tyler whispering into your ear to the look of repulse that you'd tried to hide.

“We need to talk.” Scott’s gaze shifts to you. You recognize the silent message he sends, the urgency in his voice as he fights to control his composure for your sake. “Now.”

“Ouch, Scotty. Not even a hello? And here I thought manners came with that fancy degree.” Tyler whistles low, appraising Scott like he’s not seconds away from getting his nose broken. “I was just getting acquainted with your friend over here. Giving her the whole Wrangler pitch. You know how it goes.” His smirk growing, he takes your silence as a cue to continue. “Come to think of it, wasn’t that how Gabby left? Told me she was over all the huffin' and puffin', especially after—”

“Enough.” Scott's interjection is loud and clear, your heart stuttering at the icy tone. When he slides an arm around your waist, the weight unfamiliar, you can’t tell if it’s to keep you from lunging at Tyler, or himself. You glance between Tyler's satisfied grin and the glare Scott sends him, confused. Who was Gabby? “Shut the fuck up for once, Owens. Seriously. Do us all a fucking favor.”

You still swim with questions as Scott pulls you close, no longer waiting for Tyler’s approval or response — not that he needed it in the first place. Lights cast long shadows as he navigates you between tables, the ringing in your ears lessening the further away from Tyler you get. Scott ushers you out the nearest exit, his palm warm against the small of your back.

The back door slams shut with a final click as you spill out into the alley together. It’s as dimly lit as the inside is, a singular dying bulb flickering just a few steps away. The sounds of the bar are muffled here now that your hearing has returned to normal, leaving only the distant hum of traffic and your ragged breathing.

The chilled air immediately hits you as Scott pulls away, and you watch, lost, as he paces angrily while you try to sort your thoughts out.

“What the hell was that? I thought you said you weren’t coming tonight.” Scott’s voice is sharp, cutting through the night like a knife. He turns to face you with an intensity that makes your pulse quicken, his scowl reflecting the look he gets when he's about to unleash on someone. “You said you needed space, time to clear your head… So why are you here? With him?”

“I know. Plans change,” you reply, caught off-guard, hoping to sound casual even as you hook your finger nervously under the strap of your dress. You’ve never seen Scott this worked up before, and it’s unsettling.

“Plans change?” Scott scoffs, his voice rising with every word. “That’s your excuse? You say one thing, and then do the complete opposite? What was your plan, then? To drink with Tyler and maybe let him drive you home? Was that the idea?”

You’re taken aback by the sharpness of his words. “It was just a drink, Scott. I needed to get out and clear my head.”

“Just a drink?” Scott’s eyes narrow, and he takes a step closer, his frustration barely contained. “Do you really think I’m that naive? Tyler doesn’t just do ‘just a drink.’ He’s always looking for something more. And you—” He cuts himself off, shaking his head as if trying to clear his thoughts. “He makes a mess of everything he touches. You know what he’s like. Hell, you’re smart enough to see through his bullshit. So why are you letting him get close to you?”

“Scott, it’s not like that,” you protest, your voice wavering slightly under his scrutiny. “I needed to get out. It had nothing to do with him.”

“And you couldn’t find another way to clear your head? Without him? Without the guy who’s known for causing chaos?” His voice is thick with emotion, the carefully controlled mask he usually wears slipping away to reveal the raw frustration and fear beneath. “You think I don’t see what’s happening here? I’ve been through this before, and I’m not going to stand by and watch you make the same mistakes.”

“What are you implying?” You ask, confused and angry.

“I’m saying I think you’re using Tyler as a distraction,” Scott says, his voice sharp, “A way to escape from everything you’ve been dealing with.”

Frustration prickles at his words, and even though you try not to, it’s hard to keep the edge from your voice. “Escape? That’s not— I’m not running away from anything.”

“We’ve had a rough week. I know it’s been hard on you,” Scott says, his tone softening slightly, though he still looks on edge. His jaw ticks again, and your gaze immediately darts to the pack of gum you know he keeps in his right back pocket. “But if you’re letting someone like Tyler pull you away from what really matters, it’ll only make things worse. I’ve seen too many people get hurt by him.”

Your anger flares at his scolding, hating that you found yourself in one storm, only to be led willingly into the next. “And what, Scott? You think you know me so well that you can just decide what’s best for me?”

“No, I’m just—” Scott shakes his head, taking a step toward you, then rethinking it. “I’m trying to keep you safe.”

“Safe?” You try to suppress a laugh, but it comes out bitter. “Safe doesn’t really exist in our line of work, and you know that.”

Scott’s eyes flash with a mix of frustration and something else you can’t quite place. He takes a deep breath, struggling to steady himself. “You think I don’t know that? When things go wrong, I need to know that I can count on the people around me to handle their shit.”

You raise an eyebrow, uncertain where this is going. “And what exactly does that have to do with Tyler or me?”

“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” he asks, his tone almost pleading. “When you’re involved, everything gets complicated. I can’t think straight when you’re involved. I can’t focus. Hell, I can’t even sleep at night.”

Scott runs a hand through his hair, his fingers gripping tightly as if trying to ground himself. “That tornado— When the equipment malfunctioned because Dale failed to follow the calibration protocols I specifically fucking outlined— I was frozen, just paralyzed with fear. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t move. I knew we couldn’t make it to you in time.”

You still, remembering how quickly Scott had cornered Dale when you got back. You’d thought it was because of the readings and the instructions he’d ignored that had nearly cost you both your lives.

Scott’s breath hitches as he continues. “It would’ve been my fault. My responsibility. My orders. I was convinced I’d lost you. And I thought if I could just keep you safe, try to control the chaos, that it might make things better. But seeing you with Tyler tonight... It’s like I’m back in that moment, feeling helpless, and I—” He cuts himself off with a shake of his head. “Look, I’m not going through that again. I can’t.”

His voice cracks, and you see the depth of his internal struggle. “I’m just… trying to protect you,” he admits quietly, “but I don’t know if you even see it that way.”

His words weigh heavy, the shock of it ripping right through you. Scott Miller didn't go out of his way to be kind.

You're pulled back through the last few months: the coffee, just the way you liked it, that Scott always had waiting for you after a chase; his lack of scorn when you fell asleep on him in the van the next morning, when exhaustion wins and his silence becomes safety; the lingering, unasked question on his lips every time you were tasked to go out onto the field again and you agreed, over and over, despite the very real fear of the very thing you chased.

For a moment, everything else fades away — Tyler, the bar, the noise.

“Scott.” Your voice breaks through the quiet in a whisper, drawing close to him. Your hands glide gently along the black fabric of his shirt, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath your palms. “I’m here,” you say, your voice steady but soft. “I’m with you.”

For a moment, that vulnerability continues to swim in his eyes. And then he steps closer, his fingers wrapping around your wrists. You think, for a split second of panic, that he means to push you away and close himself off the way he usually does; instead, his thumbs rub tenderly at your palms, the action so gentle and unlike him that it makes your breath stall.

Instinctively your gaze meets his, forgetting (as you often did) just how big he actually was. Tall, broad, and deliciously toned; when you thought of Scott, you thought of him behind a desk, not running laps around his neighborhood and clocking in hours at the gym. Your uniforms did an amazing job of hiding his physique, but it’s impossible to ignore now. His black undershirt clings to him like a second skin and reveals the hard, taut muscles of his body, further evidence of the control he wielded so effortlessly.

His eyes search yours, the intoxicating scent of his cologne enveloping you. You’ve never seen him so open before, and as his hands smooth down your arms to the curve of your waist, there’s a sense of urgency in his touch that he doesn’t vocalize.

Fear. Longing. Desire. His jaw sets again as his gaze drops to your mouth, and you think, for one terrifying moment, that he won’t do it. Would he regain his composure, push you away, then act like nothing had happened the next morning? His brows furrow, as if reading your thoughts. Maybe you’d be reassigned just to avoid the awkwardness of it all. Scott could send you packing with just a phone call.

Your heart pounds, frozen in place, each second lasting an eternity. His fingers flex on your waist, the electrifying touch causing your lips to part and your lashes to flutter. The sight makes his throat bob.

“God damn it,” he groans, his voice guttural.

It’s the only warning you get before his mouth descends onto yours. Though his lips are smooth, there’s nothing gentle about the way Scott kisses you. His mouth moves hungrily against yours, devouring and demanding and all-consuming, like you’re the very air he needs to breathe. You sigh, aching for more, that dull fire inside you growing hotter at the groan that escapes him. As he fists a hand in your hair, he wraps a strong arm around your middle to pull you closer, deepening the kiss.

“Scott…” Bunching his shirt in your hands, you’re helpless when he nips at your bottom lip, pulling desperate, needy sounds from you. As he trails hot open-mouthed kisses along your jaw, finding every spot with ease, his fingers wrap gently around your throat, your pulse racing against his thumb.

“God, I’ve wanted you like this for months,” Scott murmurs against your skin, his voice a low growl that makes your thighs clench. A soft moan escapes as you tilt your head to give him better access, his noise of approval rumbling deep in his throat. “I’ve dreamt of this.”

He presses you into the wall behind you as he ravages your neck, all teeth and tongue and the kind of marks that you’ll have to find excuses for in the morning. A shiver sends you arching up into him, fingers slipping into his hair as he palms your breast, lowering his mouth to suck a greedy mark there. You whine at the friction you’re missing, hips circling the air, desperately hooking your fingers into his belt loops to drag him closer.

“Shhh,” Scott pauses to hitch your leg up, slotting his knee between your thighs. Dark blue eyes drink in the sight of you as he squeezes your ass, a cocky smile spreading on his pink and swollen lips. “I know, sweetheart. That’s what you want, isn’t it?” You mewl when his knee brushes against your heat, enough to have you rolling helplessly against him but not enough to satisfy your desires. “So pretty, so desperate.”

“Yes,” You grip him harder for some semblance of a tether, that condescending, degrading voice only adding fuel to the fire. Did he know what you fantasized about late at night? The shower running to muffle your moans while you touched yourself to his deep voice, lecturing you over a simple mistake? Open desire swirls in your eyes, pleading now, every want laid bare for him. “Please, I want it.”

Scott’s low noise of approval sounds in his throat, pressing closer to give you what you need. You’d be half-ashamed at the way you eagerly grind against him if his own arousal wasn’t hard against your hip, straining, large and throbbing with every roll of your hips. The material of your panties do nothing to stop the delicious ache of his worn jeans against your clit, too many pieces of fabric between you, trying to quiet pretty sounds as you bite your lip.

“Look at you,” Scott growls, your dress inching higher as he seizes your hips, helping you find a rhythm. Hooking the lace of your panties under his fingers, he tugs the material up tight enough together to elicit a hiss, a dimple playing at the corner of his mouth as he smirks, “Is this all for me, baby?”

Barely managing a nod, you meet his eyes through thick lashes and whimper at the expression on his face. That intense gaze drinks in every inch of you like you’re a piece of art and the last thing he wants to remember, his usually stormy eyes hazy with desire.

“God damn... You just can’t get enough, can you, baby? When you touch yourself at night, do you think about me? Rubbing that needy little pussy on your pillow ‘cause you just can’t help it?” You press harder into him in response, his answering laugh dark against your ear. “But it’s never enough, is it? You always crave more, something thicker, something stronger.”

You whine against the loss of contact as he drops his knee, the sting of your panties snapping against your skin quickly forgotten when he trails his digits along the swell of your mouth. You open up greedily, the salty taste of his skin on your tongue intoxicating as you wrap your lips around him. 

“I bet you look so pretty,” he continues, his voice ragged, “Spread out like a top dollar whore with your cunt in the air, gagging on your fingers and wishing it were me. Wondering how many you need to suck on to fill you up just right. How many do you think, baby? Two? More?”

Scott pulls his fingers out with a pop, nuzzling against you as you try to remember to breathe. “Would you even be able to use that brain of yours, baby? Or would you be so fucking desperate to fill your hole that you’d use however many fit?”

He hikes up your dress while he pushes his hand in your panties, fingers slipping through your soaked folds. Fuck. He slowly circles your clit, stealing the breath from your lungs as you arch up into him. “Oh, I know, sweetheart. It doesn’t feel like this, does it?”

Not even close. Worst of all, you weren’t even sure if Scott knew just how true it was. Other men may have excited you, but nothing compared to this — not you, not the others you took to your bed, not even the fantasy Scott you envisioned. You buck helplessly against him, eager for more, whimpering out some sort of half-reply as you grip his wrist in a pathetic effort to keep him there.

Scott just grins. “What’s wrong, baby? Am I going too slow for you?” When he softens his touch, your nails dig into his skin, leaving little crescent moon marks. Lips desperately search for his, your eyes half-lidded and hazy. “I knew you’d be greedy,” he hums, gripping you roughly by the chin, his thumb swiping over your parted lips. “Letting me play with your pussy like this, where anyone could walk out and see how much of a slut you’re being.”

You bite back a moan as you remember where you are, glancing frantically at the door like it might open any second. Your pulse skyrockets when he resumes teasing, circling your clit then dipping down to press at your entrance. Fingers close around the fabric of his shirt, meaning to push him away and only pulling him closer with another desperate whine. “Scott, please…”

“Fuck.” There’s a dark look that flashes across his face, voice rough and ragged, and you watch, with nothing to shield his gaze, as his control snaps.

Sliding his hand over your mouth, it’s the only warning you get before he sinks a thick digit into your weeping cunt. The growl that escapes him when you automatically clench around it only makes you wetter, paralyzed with lust as he works you into pliancy. You pant, chest heaving, as he finds a steady rhythm that makes your eyes roll to the back of your head, every moan muffled against the palm of his hand as you arch into his touch.

You cry out when he adds a second finger, rocking your hips desperately as he angles his hand just right to rub against your clit. “Harder— Please, more—” The words are strangled, spilling out of you mindlessly now, unable to think beyond the way Scott stretches you out. You grab a fistful of his hair as he groans against your neck, dragging teeth and tongue along your skin, freeing your breasts from your dress before covering your mouth again.

“So god damned sexy,” he growls, quick to lap at your hardened nipples, the flat of his tongue spilling another pretty sound from your throat. He curls his digits deeper inside you, the wet schlick of your heat loud in your ears as he sets a brutal pace, switching his attention to your other neglected nipple.

Breath hot against your skin, Scott relishes how you become putty in his hands, holding onto him for support as he strokes that burning fire in you.

“Perfect fucking tits. Perfect fucking pussy. Jesus, sweetheart,” he nips at your skin, soothing the bite with his tongue. “Is this what you like? Being used like my own personal fucktoy? What would the others think if they saw you right now, fucking yourself stupid on me like a bitch in heat?”

He slips his fingers out long enough for you to beg, his smile dark against your skin while you whimper in desperation — and then he’s pushing back into you, stretching your hole with every rough thrust of his fingers. “Hear that, sweetheart? Even your body knows it’s meant to be mine.”

Scott kisses you hungrily as he drops his free hand to your breast, pinching your nipple hard enough to make you scream. His fingers slick harder into you, his cock thick and grinding into your hip while you try to breathe against his storm, your own control slipping as you fist his dark curls in your hands, looking for leverage.

“That’s it,” he growls, teeth sinking into your bottom lip. “This is my fucking pussy, isn’t it, baby? You wanna cum for me? Let the whole bar know you’re my toy to play with?”

“Please, please, please—” You can’t think beyond the brutal pace he’s set, not even sure that your voice sounds human as you babble, eyes big and watering. “Wanna cum for you, please, I need it—”

“You need it?” You gasp as the pain on your nipple subsides only for him to pinch the other, something dark and destructive swirling heavy in his blue eyes. You shiver at the expression, the carnal desire written so clearly over his face, every word out of his mouth deep, commanding, leaving no room for debate. “I’ll tell you when you get to cum. This is mine.” Pressing the heel of his palm hard against your clit, he watches with glee as you clamp down on your bottom lip to keep from screaming, obeying his command even as your body fights.

Your knees nearly buckle at the growl in his voice. Every thrust of his fingers brings you closer to the edge, the heat overwhelming. How many nights had you spent with your fingers in your cunt, picturing scenario after scenario of him taking you in the van, in the bathroom, on his desk after hours? 

“Say it,” Scott insists. “Tell me you’re mine.”

You meet his gaze, the intensity of it nearly sending you over the edge. “I’m yours,” you say, caught between a moan and something stronger, your words choking off.

“Again.” His expression tightens, picking up speed. “Louder.”

“I’m yours!” Your body trembles with the effort to stay upright, writhing against him. The words feel like a vow, your grip on Scott tight as you sob them into him. “My pussy is yours, my body is yours— Just a pathetic, dirty, worthless hole for you to fuck— Fuck, Scott, please—”

Scott growls in response, fisting his hand in your hair as finds the spongey spot inside of you. His digits work you hard, the veins in his arms on display as you bite back a scream, waiting, begging, needing. “Cum,” he grunts, the sound of his fingers driving into you loud and damning, “That’s it, sweetheart. Cum for me.”

You fall over the edge hard and fast, crying out as all the tension from the night finally snaps. It feels like an eternity as he continues fucking you through it, every filthy promise spelled out clearly with his lips at your ear.

By the time you come crashing back down, you’re shaking and empty, blinking back stars as Scott steps back. “Oh my god,” you gasp, fighting to catch your breath, mind still a mess as you try to piece together everything that happened. “That was…”

You watch, mesmerized, as Scott sucks his fingers into his mouth, a groan of approval sounding deep in his throat. And when he squeezes at his bulge straining against his zipper, your core clenches tight at the thought of his weight on top of yours, fucking you into submission again and again until he gets his fill.

“Just the beginning,” Scott promises, stepping toward you to tilt your chin up, his free hand coming down to tighten around your soaked panties and pull. They rip easily in his strong grasp, his grin triumphant as he stuffs them into his back pocket. “You won’t be needing these anymore.”

“Why?” Your body tenses with anticipation, noting the defined dimple in his cheek, the kind of grin he only wore when he was about to be incredibly, infuriatingly smug.

“Because,” he hums, full of condescension, “I didn’t hear a thank you.”

Before you can fix your mistake, Scott silences you with a kiss, his mouth patronizingly gentle as a wicked laugh sounds in the back of his throat. “Don’t worry,” he says, dropping another chaste kiss to your mouth, your nose, the space between your creased brows. “It won’t happen again. I’ll teach you, sweetheart.”

Goosebumps rise on your flesh as Scott adjusts your dress to cover your exposed body, the act so gentle and unbecoming that you freeze enough to let him. The moment only lasts a minute, your eyes meeting as he squeezes the curve of your ass when he’s done, all that vulnerability you had seen locked away again, like he’s guarding himself as reality comes back to life.

A muscle feathers in his jaw as his gaze shifts from you to the back door you’d spilled from. You’ve known Scott long enough by now to know he won’t be the one to say what’s hanging in the air. It would be easier, safer, to walk back in like nothing had happened and return to the motel alone, hitching a ride with anyone other than Scott the next morning.

But if you turn away now, you’ll never see that side of him again: the side that stayed up with you when he could be sleeping, the kind that comforted you without words, the kind that lit your world on fire with every bruising mark he’d left on you. The chance of knowing the man behind the mask.

You don’t miss the way his muscles tense under your touch as you reach for him or the flash of relief that flickers through him. “You think I’m teachable?” You ask, turning big eyes up at him, begging him to see the way you lay yourself bare for him — hoping, praying, that he doesn’t turn you down even still.

“I’m not an easy teacher.” He says, low, still guarded. Still giving you one last out.

You shake your head, a laugh tumbling out. His throat bobs at the sound. “I don’t want easy.” The truth of that hangs heavy in the air, zipping between the two of you as recognition passes through his eyes. “Now are you driving, or am I?”

A faint smile tugs at the corner of his mouth before he presses his tongue into his cheek and takes a step back. “My van, my rules,” he says, his voice softer now but still firm, and you hear the familiar rumble of the Storm Par van coming to life. His keys jingle in his hand as he adds, “You should know that by now.”

You bite your lip, suppressing a smile, and follow him out of the alleyway.

You did know. And as you settle into the passenger seat, the scent of the van enveloping you — a mix of old leather and Scott’s cologne — anticipation crackles in the air. The night stretches ahead, full of unspoken possibilities.

You couldn’t wait to test how far those rules went... and just how much you both were willing to bend them.

[kenobers]

magic hands | Jason Todd x Sionis!Reader

but first free palestine !! Your regularly scheduled hook-up session with Jason Todd is rudely interrupted by the arrival of your period. As tragedy strikes, you have to ask Jason to buy you pads, perhaps throwing a curveball in your still emerging relationship. this installment comes before this one; you don't know jason is red hood in this one (not that it really matters to this particular story) tw: periods, mentions of drugging, reader having issues with acts of service, afab readera/n: i'm writing additions to this story completely out of order because i can. don't worry - you're gonna be the one comforting jason soon, just stay tuned. and if you're following me for the obi-wan content, i promise you'll also be fed soon. the sionis!reader concept was inspired by this ask on gilverrwrites' blog! In hindsight, it might've been kinda weird of me, but i couldn't get the concept out of my head. thank you to gilverr and anon! please check out their blog!

Yo

You cringe a little at your choice of words, wishing you'd thought harder before sending the text. Well actually, you cringe at the entire situation. You despise having to ask for help, but you're a little desperate.

Would you-

Too entitled.

Would you mind-

Passive aggressive.

Will-

Your phone buzzes before you can finish typing.

yo.

That was fast.

You take a deep breath. Jason was coming over anyway and it wasn't like you were in any position to have sex like you were planning to. And this constitutes as a bit of an emergency, considering you're currently sitting on a wad of toilet paper.

Can you pick me up some pads?

You hit send and drop your phone on your bed. This is so embarrassing for no reason. Jason's a good guy, he isn't going to judge you for being on your period of all things. He's not going to hold it against you if you can't have sex either.

It was just that you weren't sure your relationship was...like that. Acts of service and all that. A month ago, you wouldn't have even considered asking him to do this. But you'd been a lot more personal with one another lately. Making dinner, staying the night, being physically affectionate while your clothes were still on.

Your phone vibrates and you frantically feel for the purple case in the grey and white sheets. You'll deal with that giddy feeling later.

i don't know, can i?

Fucker, you think, glaring at your screen. You start furiously forming a response about how you aren't in the fucking mood for this when your phone buzzes again.

yeah, of course i can. need anything else? painkillers? chocolate?

You eye the empty bottle on your nightstand. Your stomach cramps painfully.

I'm out of ibuprofen

Then you consider for a moment. With a sigh, you bite back your pride. Well, if he's offering.

...and maybe some ice cream.

you got it babe.

Babe. Heat rushes to your cheeks as the corners of your mouth twitch upwards.

Ten minutes later his name flashes on your screen again, along with a photo of a wall of pads.

which kind

Damn, he was kind of good at this. A flare of jealousy burns through you at the thought of Jason doing this for some other girl. Another feeling you'll deal with later. You circled your preferred brand and send it back.

check. headed your way shawty.

After another ten minutes, the rumbling of a motorcycle echoes through your street. Nine minutes and 45 seconds later, the sound of your living room window sliding open lures you from your bed.

You fight back a goofy grin at the sight of Jason's large-than-life frame slipping through the window, two plastic bags balanced in one gloved hand. Leaning against your kitchen island, you allow yourself a second to admire the curve of his ass in those joggers.

"Hey," you greet, shivering as a gust of wind followed the man. He gives you a toothy grin, sliding the window shut. With a dramatic flourish of his arm, he presents the drugstore bag to you.

"Your essentials, m'lady."

"Oh, my hero," you giggle, taking the bag gratefully. You eye the second bag suspiciously, although the telltale red thank you print and the smell of fried rice give the contents away. "Chinese?"

"Chinese," he confirms. "And before you say anything, I was already picking it up when you texted."

You purse your lips. He was starting to know you too well. You would've said something, would've lied about how you weren't hungry. The idea that he'd already thought to do something nice for you before he even knew about your situation makes your stomach twist.

Jason takes a step closer, trapping you between him and the island. He reaches behind you to set the food on the counter, green eyes trained on your face. It's hard not to shrink below his quizzical gaze. Goosebumps cover your bicep as the leather of his jacket rubs against your bare arm.

Bastard.

"That okay, pretty girl?"

Fuck, he's handsome. He knows it too, know to flick his dark hair just so. Knows how to look at you so that any "oh, you shouldn't have" argument you can conjure up falters before it can reach your tongue. It certainly doesn't help that he's flexing the arm reaching behind you just so.

"Perfect, even," you purr, uncrossing your arms to play with his jacket zipper. "How much do I owe you?"

"Don't worry about it." You try not to roll your eyes at him, reminding yourself that you were opting to be nicer to him tonight. He is your hero after all. His hands fall to your hips, his thumbs running along the bone. "How you feeling?"

You shrug, suppressing another shiver as his pinkie pokes below the length of your shorts.

"Shitty. Like everything hurts," you answer honestly. Your lip twitches and you abandon his jacket zipper in favor of the strings of his sweatshirt.

"'m sorry we can't, y'know, do what we planned." The apology floods abruptly from your lips. "I would offer to do it anyways, but I just, I-I can't with these cramps." Your hips twinge with pain to emphasize your point. "But, I mean, I can blow you if you really want-"

"Hey."

Two fingers tilt your chin up, tough leather juxtaposing soft skin. You hadn't even realized you'd stopped looking at his face. He's smiling at you.

"Don't worry about it," he says for the second time. "Lemme make you feel better. It'll piss Roman off just as much."

You both look pointedly at the bookshelf you're fairly certain your father had hidden some sort of recording device.

"Besides," he continues with a wolfish smirk. "I've become accustomed to a certain level of performance from you and I'm not sure if I'd receive that if you're not at your peak."

"Fine, only because you insisted," you sigh. "And I'm gonna do you a favor and ignore that last part." You turn away from him, fishing the package of pads and the ibuprofen out of the drugstore bag. "I'm gonna go...yeah."

You wave the package in the air as you head for the bathroom. With your back turned, you don't catch Jason saluting you.

When you return, you notice one of the books on the shelf has been inconspicuously placed over a Wonder Woman knick knack. Part of you is relieved to know your father can't spy on you tonight. Another part of you feels a pang of anxiety knowing that means tonight is just for the two of you to enjoy each other's company. As people. Not fuckbuddies.

This is still casual. Professional, you tell yourself. It's not like he's my boyfriend.

You turn to the kitchen, where Jason is pulling plates out of a cupboard, and ignoring the smaller voice that wouldn't mind him being your boyfriend.

He hands the plates to you, letting you dish the both of you up.

Jason sidles up behind you, pressing his chest to your back. You lean into him, letting him support your weight.

"Chinese was a good call," you say. He hums in response, dipping his hands under your shirt to rub your sides. You yelp in alarm as something wet hits your skin.

"Dude! What the fuck!"

Jason backs up, holding two cream covered hands in the air. He looks apologetic enough, but still smirks at the way you glowered at him over your shoulder. It's an awful cute look when it isn't coming from behind an ugly ass skull mask.

"It's just CBD."

You spin around, pointing your spoon straight at his heart.

"CBD- what, are you trying to get me high?"

It's all Jason can do not to double over laughing. He'd take a picture if he wasn't certain you would find a way to lodge that spoon in a major artery.

His laughter has you fidgeting nervously, trying to maintain your hard stare.

"Don't laugh at me."

To his credit, he stops almost immediately. He straightens his posture and gestures to a small round container on the counter.

"It's just a lotion. Helps with joint pain, I use it all the time. I thought it might help with cramps."

You blink. That was...incredibly thoughtful of him.

"Oh."

You turn back to the food, continuing your task sheepishly. All you ever do in front of this man is embarrass yourself. And orgasm.

He creeps back to his spot cautiously. You glance over your shoulder, briefly meeting his eyes.

"You can...continue," you tell him, your tone much softer now. He presses a kiss to the exposed junction of your neck and slides his hands back under your shirt.

It does feel nice to have him massage the cool lotion into your aching body. His fingers seem to know exactly where to go, undoing the built up tension and leaving a light buzz in its place.

"I'm sorry I snapped like that," you whisper. "I overheard some of my dad's idiots talking about some kind of lube that's infused with LSD or something. Apparently it's becoming a popular method for people to get what they want so...little on edge."

After a moment, Jason speaks again, "I wouldn't drug you like that, you know."

"What, topically?" You scoff, dividing the orange chicken equally.

"Without your consent."

You pause. You suppose you hadn't given much thought to how much Jason respected you in that regard. To be fair, you'd never really been around men that respected you at all.

"Well, that's good to know." It's not the most sensitive response, but you're sudden determined to move on from the conversation before you start oversharing. "Let's eat, big guy."

After dinner, Jason applies the lotion again. This time, you're sat on the couch between his legs as he drives the stuff into a knot on your hip. The TV drones with some black comedy series the two of you have been watching at the recommendation of one of his brothers.

"Do you get a lot of joint pain?" You ask suddenly, looking back at him. He doesn't tear his eyes away from the screen.

"Huh?"

"You said you use it a lot on your joints. Do you get a lot of joint pain?" Now he looks at you, one slit eyebrow raised. For a moment you watch him try to remember when he told you that. Then he smirks, a silly view from upside down.

"I do whenever you get through with me," he says, his chest vibrating under you. You give him a look. "Sometimes after the gym, yeah."

You're not quite sure you believe him, but you let it slide, turning back to the TV in time to see your least favorite character earn a smack to the face.

"It was nice of you to bring it."

"'s helping?"

"Mmh," You sigh as he works a particularly tough spot. Your relief is short lived however as the small of your back cramps up. A small gasp escapes you and you squirm and swear in Jason's arms.

He pauses his work on your hips.

"Where's it hurt?"

"Back," you whimper, turning over so he can get to it. He obliges immediately, rubbing the butt of his palm into the sore spot. You groan into his chest, melting beneath his magic hands. "The fuck did I ever manage this shit before you."

He snorts, "very bravely, I'm sure."

You smile at his answer. Clever boy. You reward him with a kiss, pleased when he returns it in kind. His hand doesn't stop its work on your back as his soft lips move gently with your own.

"You sure you don't want a blowjob?" you murmur against his mouth.

Jason nods, giving you another chaste kiss before pulling away. "You're in pain, sweetheart. Let yourself rest."

He moves his lips to your ear, lowering his voice.

"Now, how about that ice cream, hm?"

Absolute professional.

[roosterforme]

This blurb is based on an anonymous request for a birthday treat for @phoenix-rising-starbird-one Happy birthday, Vonny!

Designated Driver (Bob Floyd x Reader)

contains fluff, mentions of drinking, and Bob shooting his shot

The best thing about the Hard Deck was that Bob could walk there from his place. It gave him a few minutes to himself on the way there and on the way home to clear his head. He loved his friends, he really did, but they could be a handful when they had too much to drink. They liked to get a little rowdy, while he rarely drank alcohol at all. At least they never assumed he would drive them home, and they usually just called for an Uber instead while he walked back along the peaceful streets alone.

But the Hard Deck was closed for an extended refurbishment, and everyone insisted on trying a new bar on the other side of Coronado on Friday night. Bob knew what that meant. One look at his new SUV with the extra row of seats, and they would all be bugging him to drive them home. In fact, it started while he was still at work on Friday afternoon.

"Hey, Baby on Board," Jake called when Bob tried to sneak out of the locker room unnoticed. "You mind giving me a ride to and from the bar tonight?"

"Oh!" Javy chimed in. "Me too."

"I'm like two streets away from Javy," Bradley interjected. "Mind getting me on the way?"

Bob sighed but ultimately shook his head. "No, I don't mind. I'll pick you all up."

Three hours later, he was pulling away from the curb in front of Mickey's apartment with all of his friends in tow. Nat was in the front seat navigating for him while Reuben selected which song he wanted for the ten minute drive, and Bob was already looking forward to dropping them all back off and going home later.

The bar left a lot to be desired, especially compared to the Hard Deck, and he immediately felt out of place. He was about to go sit outside when Nat rubbed his arm and said, "Why don't you go grab that empty bar stool? Next to the cute girl?"

He turned to look where his friend was pointing, and a second later, his mouth was hanging open. "She's beautiful," he whispered, and soon his friend was guiding him in your direction where you were perched on a bar stool, reading a book.

"She looks exactly like your type," Nat mused. "She's drinking a bottle of Coke and reading a novel at a bar."

Bob was busy taking in every inch of your pretty face, and the closer he got, the faster his heart pounded. Without another word, Nat shoved him so he bumped into the empty stool next to yours, and you looked up in surprise.

"Sorry," he muttered as his friend vanished. "I didn't mean to startle you."

He was sure his face was bright red, flushed with embarrassment as you saved your spot with your bookmark and smiled at him. "It's okay."

Bob cleared his throat. "Would you mind if I sit here?"

Your smile grew as you shook your head. "Not at all. Maybe if my friends see me talking to you, they'll get off my back about being antisocial. It's not my fault I prefer books over playing darts."

As he slid into the seat next to yours, he said, "Books are way better than darts. I read that one last month."

"Really?" you asked with excitement as he pointed to the spine. "I love this author."

"Me too," he replied, still in awe over you. Then he decided he really had nothing to lose. "If I would have known the most beautiful woman at the bar was bringing a book with her tonight, I'd have brought one, too."

You made a cute little noise ducked your head away from him, and he hoped he hadn't embarrassed you too much. A few seconds later, you looked up at him with a grin and said, "Well, since you didn't, maybe we can just talk instead?"

"I would love that," Bob promised. "Will you let me buy you another drink?"

"Okay, but just a Coke. I'm the designated driver tonight, and I'm not much of a drinker anyway."

Bob laughed as he waved down the bartender and said, "Two Cokes for the designated drivers, please."

"You, too?" you asked him, your smile bright again.

When he nodded in response, he held out his right hand. "I'm Bob, by the way."

Your fingers glided along his, and you told him your name as you shook his hand. "It's nice to meet you, Bob. I must admit, the last thing I anticipated was meeting a man with good taste in books tonight."

He laughed softly as the bartender dropped off two cold bottles of Coke. "I would have never guessed that the coolest woman here would let me buy her a drink."

You looked very pleased with yourself, and a beat later, you held your hand out again. "Why don't you just go ahead and give me your phone so I can save my number for you?" Bob scrambled to pull it out of his pocket as you added, "Maybe next time we can ditch our friends and the bar and talk about books somewhere quieter?"

"Absolutely," he said with a smile as you saved the number he already couldn't wait to text later.

----------------

Happy birthday, Vonny! I hope you enjoyed the actual story of how my parents met lol

[erwinsvow]

i feel like bitchy reader is definitely bossy and demanding and a total princess but in private she’s sweet (still has that bad princess attitude😭) with rafe. like he gets her to a level where she softens.

omg! you get them! ♡

sprawled on rafe's bed with your open magazines and a bottle of pink nail polish—despite how many times rafe had told you to not bring that shit onto his bed—you've made yourself comfortable.

balancing your phone to your ear, you fan your nails with your other hand. one of your friends is on the other line, he can tell you're fed up with whoever it is, even more than usual, by the way you talk to her.

rafe walks in and watches the scene in front of him while you observe your nails and flip another page, dog-earing something that's caught your eye, something he's gonna be buying you soon if you don't buy it yourself first.

"who is it?" he mouthes when you finally look up.

"your stupid sister," you say back at a normal volume, not even blocking the speaker or muting yourself.

"hey! i heard that-" his sister's voice comes through the speaker.

"yeah, i meant you to," you reply, blowing on your nails.

"y'know she's downstairs, right?" rafe asks, though you don't answer, just roll your eyes while you ignore him and continue your conversation.

"anyways, stop chasing people. especially people lower than you. it's embarrassing, sarah."

"stop calling john b 'lower people'!"

"tell him to stop behaving like lower people then. it's not that hard. or maybe you should up your standards."

though he's a little confused by what you're saying, rafe goes back to focusing on the reason he came in here, opening up his laptop. you and sarah keep yapping back and forth, until you finally hang up.

you look up at rafe expectantly the second you hang up the call, but he's too focused on the screen to see you. you set aside the magazines, tightening up the nail polish bottle and setting it on rafe's nightstand carefully—you didn't need another fiasco like the time you spilled it everywhere.

but just like your boyfriend, you were too stubborn to listen to anyone but yourself.

"okay! i'm ready now," you say, sitting up against his headboard.

"ready for what?" rafe asks, still not looking up. you want to chuck the nail polish at him to get his attention, but you foresee it ending badly, settling on tossing one of the magazines instead. it lands with a thud by rafe's feet. "huh?" just confused, not angry, he picks it up and sets it down on his desk before looking at you.

"i'm ready to hang out now." for all your stubbornness, even the irritating way you fight with him and somehow always have a better comeback ready than he does, when he looks at you, it's hard to hold back a smile.

"what about twenty minutes ago when i was ready to hang out, huh?" you roll your eyes.

"oh, shut up, liar. you came to get your laptop."

"you don't know that."

"if you came to hang out, you would have come here and hung up the call." you say it matter-of-factly, looking up at him with an irritatingly pretty smile, the one reserved for when you're reading him for filth.

"shut up." he closes the laptop and makes his way to you anyways, but when you curl into his chest and get quiet for a moment, he has a hard time remembering what the two of you were even talking about to begin with.

and though you would never admit it, you don't either.

[angelsfat3]

ꮩ, 狂信者。⸻[𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘢 𝘧𝘢𝘯...]

Summary: Your face is unique, your voice and your way of behaving is so special, maybe that's why he fell in love. But you're just his fan.

C/w: Ni-ki thought you were a girl (short reader), small mention of anxiety, everything happens very quickly. ㅤ－ㅤTw: Few curses, anxiety attack.

Genre: fluff, kinda suggestive, romance, two points of view.

A/N: Apart from the fact that I struggled to put Japanese and Korean words into romaji, I decided to write this story with Stuck in the Middle as background song, and somehow I feel that the whole writing feels like read a kdrama(This is so embarrassing and trashy (⁠╥⁠﹏⁠╥⁠))

your point of view.

The plane had finally landed at Incheon International Airport, marking the end of a long and tiring journey from Japan. You, with your backpack hanging from one shoulder and your heart beating with a mix of excitement and nervousness—because after months of insisting to your mother, she granted your wish to meet your favorite group—You decided that walking to your hotel would be a good way to familiarize yourself with the new surroundings and also to take advantage of taking photographs.

With the afternoon sun bathing the unknown streets, you began your journey trusting in the route marked by your phone, and your incipient knowledge of Korean.

As you progressed, the roads became narrower and the signs more confusing. The feeling of being lost began to slowly invade you, but your determination combined with stubbornness wanted to make you find the building through the image that was on Google...

As you turned a corner, you realized that you were just walking in circles, as the convenience stores and small restaurants were the same as those "three streets back."

The afternoon turned into twilight, and the warm lights of the lanterns began to come on, casting shadows that danced across the cobblestones.

The fear that you had been avoiding so much was present when a group of people passed by you and they only laughed. Your bad thoughts appeared with them, making you believe that maybe they were laughing at you.

Feeling more and more disoriented and exhausted, you decided to take a break and go into one of those stores just to buy a bottle of water and an onigiri. Five minutes passed just in you doing calculations to give the correct bill to the cashier.

As you left the premises you decided to start eating a little, trying to calm your mind and regain your composure. You checked the address on your phone again, but everything seemed just as confusing, the building was supposed to be a block away.

While you were looking for where to throw the plastic from the onigiri, from afar you could see a boy with a cap and a mask leaving a restaurant just a couple of meters from you, you thought it was destiny who gave you the opportunity to go to him and ask him. What can you lose? The dignity.

"E-excuse me!... You could- uh..." Your embarrassing attempt to ask him for help seemed to have scared him a little, because when he turned to look at you, he just made an "x" with his arms and gently shook his head.

Seconds later another boy came out of the restaurant, apparently he was with the person you had scared, so now you had two, quite tall men, glaring at you.

"Uh... Hotel?" Nerves took over you again, causing you to show them the image of the building you are looking for, pointing out the name of the place. When you didn't get a response you only felt a slight desire to cry, you felt that the last opportunity to have a comfortable place to sleep and to be able to see the people you admired.

Your hands began to shake and your heart accelerated after a few seconds because of how the boys looked around, not really knowing what to say to you.

"Uzai..." You turned off your phone as soon as you could and gave a small bow. "I'm sorry...I'm sorry for making you lose-...How do you say Jikan in Korean?" You whispered the last sentence. "Ah!, I'm sorry to waste your time..."

"You speak Japanese?" Suddenly, a deep voice interrupted your thoughts. “Do you need help with something?” You looked up slightly, meeting the eyes of the boy who had just come out. He apparently noticed your concern, so he would quickly try to strike up a quick conversation.

"Yeah.. I'm a little lost," you admitted, feeling a bit of relief at finally finding someone willing to help. "I'm looking for this hotel," you said, showing the address on your phone.

He simply nodded, understanding your situation. "Oh, I know that place, it used to be above the center of Seoul, but they changed it to the Gangnam area. It's not too far from here. Do you want us to accompany you?” He asked adjusting his cap.

“I like the idea! But... Will your friend agree?” You responded, tilting your head a little, noticing the brunette in the back with his gaze focused on his phone.

“He'll be fine, come on, I'll take you—we'll take you to the hotel, before it gets too late,” he responded with a smile from under the fabric.

You thanked him for his kindness and together they began to walk, eventually the other boy followed behind them. The conversation flowed easily, and you discovered that he was also a fan of the same group. The coincidence made you feel more comfortable and less alone along the way.

From the way you both laughed or made very clumsy jokes, people around you could deduce that you were lifelong friends, when the reality is that you had been talking for 15 minutes since he offered to take you. During some moments there were also small friction between your hand and his or even when you caught him staring at you, either in the eyes or at your lips.

As you two walked, you realized that you had missed a small alley that connected directly to the main street where your hotel was located.

"Well... I think this is the end, pretty girl" he commented, pausing in his walk, making you see the large building.

Finally, you arrived at the hotel just as the sky turned completely dark. When you said goodbye to your new friend, a feeling of sadness flooded your body for a few seconds, it was a shame that the only person who helped you did not have a phone number and continue to know each other, however you thanked him deeply for his help.

He wished you a good stay and reminded you to enjoy every moment of your trip.

As you were about to enter through the revolving door, turning around just to look at him and say, "I'm a boy," you let out a laugh as you saw his eyes widen.

"Oh yeah? Oh.. well, never mind. It was nice meeting you, pretty boy." He finished saying goodbye to you with his hand moving from side to side. You quickly went into the hotel with your face all red from the nickname he had given you.

Entering your room, you dropped your backpack and collapsed on the bed, feeling a mix of relief and satisfaction. Despite the setback, you had managed to get there and, in the process, you had made a new friend. With a smile on your face, you prepared to rest, knowing that tomorrow you would be face to face with your idols.

￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣

“So.. Was she really cute or were you just doing this out of kindness?” a male voice asked.

“Cute.. he was cute.” The taller boy responded, with his head down as he continued walking towards a company, next to his friend.

"He?! Holy shit, Ni-ki... You're in serious trouble if anyone else finds out.” Heeseung commented.

“I know, but I doubt they will ever know, for my bad or good luck, I only spoke with him for a couple of minutes,” He paused while he removed his mask and cap once inside the facility. "His voice... his eyes, everything about him was so cute, did you see how small he looked next to me... ssibal" he whisper.

“Yes, I know how he looked like, I was also going with you two, in case you forgot,” Heeseung said with a slight expression of annoyance, this because of the dramatic way in which Ni-ki gently pressed his forehead with his hand. “It's not the end of the world either, you know? Maybe you will meet him by chance another day and—”

“Or perhaps I will never see him again and I will die without even knowing his name,” Ni-ki commented.

￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣

The sun was just beginning to rise when, still with the excitement of the previous day throbbing in your chest, you woke up to the insistent sound of the alarm. Today was the day you would finally get to see the boys you've admired for a while face to face, and the excitement was mixed with a touch of nervousness.

A new day began normally, although given the fact that it was your first time in another country and alone, you felt like you were in a dream movie or drama. Clouds adorned the sky, which was as blue as the sea. When you jumped up just to open the window, your entire room lit up.

After a quick breakfast and a mental review of what you planned to tell them, you left for the event venue. The city was alive at that time of the morning, but you only had one thing on your mind: fansing.

And, although you didn't want to admit it, you also thought about the boy you had met the day before, the one who had turned you red and tomato for the simple fact of calling you "pretty boy."

You kept thinking about the way in which on the short journey from that place to your hotel, he always tried to make you smile or talk about your tastes. His deep voice, his height, the way he tried to make you feel safe and although it was difficult to see his face, his eyes were so pretty. A dark brown adorned on the outside by her long, drooping eyelashes... It was so cute.

You left the hotel completely ready, a small bag where you carried small gifts for each member, as well as the most recent album so they could sign it.

Upon arriving at the venue, the energy in the atmosphere was palpable. The lights, the preparations, the murmur of the people... Everything contributed to a crescendo of anticipation. You tried to stay focused as you waved at a few girls before you.

Ni-ki's pov.

The day had started early for him, as usual. The alarms sounded in sync with the first ray of sunlight, calling all members of the group to prepare for the day's event. With automatic movements, he headed to the bathroom, washing his face and brushing his teeth as he tried to clear away the drowsiness.

He carefully chose his outfit, casual but in the iconic colors of his comeback, adding the finishing touch with a pair of accessories he knew fans would love.

Although fansings turned out to be somewhat exhausting, there was something about this particular one that filled him with an inexplicable excitement. Maybe it was the fact that they had spent weeks in the studio, or maybe it was the simple pleasure of seeing their fans again.

As he got ready, his thoughts returned to the boy he had met the day before. The pretty boy, as he had called him in a moment of spontaneity, continued to haunt his mind. He remembered how his eyes sparkled when he talked about his passions, the way they became more slanted when he laughed at some bad joke, how his smile seemed to light up the surroundings, and how his initial nervousness dissipated as they talked.

Upon arriving at the event venue, feelings of nervousness and excitement were mixed. The routine of getting ready, arranging some things with the staff, and going over the day's agenda was carried out with precision, but his thoughts kept wandering to that unexpected meeting. He wondered if he would see him again one day, if fate would allow them to cross paths again.

With each passing minute, the anticipation grew. The team gave them the final instructions while preparations progressed around them. The lights were shining brightly, the stage was set, and the fans' enthusiastic screams echoed in their ears, creating an electrifying atmosphere. It was all part of the magic of the moment.

When Ni-ki finally took the stage, he focused on doing his best, trying to connect with every fan who had come to see him, shaking hands, praising fans' perfumes or accessories, etc.

And then, as he waited for the next fan, in the crowd, as he watched some girls, waving at them, his eyes met a familiar look.

He couldn't believe it: the pretty boy was there, approaching him, with a small bag in hand and a nervous but radiant smile. In that instant, all the noise, lights, and hubbub seemed to fade away, leaving only the memory of those brown eyes and the surprise of an unexpected connection in the midst of chaos.

Ni-ki felt his heart speed up, and a warm feeling of happiness enveloped him, unable to hide a smile from ear to ear.

The boy approached timidly, not really knowing how to start the conversation. Ni-ki, still shocked by the sight, was the first to speak.

"Hello!" Ni-ki said with a smile, trying to hide his own surprise. "Is this your first time here?"

The boy smiled back, although clearly nervous. “Um... Actually, yes,” the boy responded, almost whispering. “I…brought this for you” He extended the bag towards him, making the taller boy take a look inside.

Ni-ki carefully took the bag and looked inside better, finding a small letter and some candys. He looked up and saw that the boy was watching him carefully, waiting for his reaction.

“This is... Thank you very much, this is very nice,” he responded, letting out a soft laugh, feeling a pleasant warmth in his chest. "What's your name?" He asked.

The shorter boy blushed, his gaze dropping to the ground for a moment before meeting Ni-ki's eyes again. “My name is [...]” he responded as he watched his Idol take his hand out of the corner of his eye, causing his heart to beat rapidly.

Ni-ki felt a mixture of shame and tenderness. He didn't want to pressure him, knowing that his Korean wasn't the best, so he decided to move forward gently.

“Oh! Are you japanese? You would have told me before…” exclaimed the tallest one, regulating his voice so that only the one in front of him could hear him. "I'm glad you have come. You are having fun?"

The boy nodded, clearly relieved by the change of topic and language. "Yes, a lot. It's my first time at a fansing, and it's... amazing. I can't believe I'm here, talking to you, holding your hand...”

“Well, believe me, I'm very glad you came,” Ni-ki commented, feeling a special connection in that moment. However, unfortunately time couldn't stop just so the two of you could continue talking, so you continued at the same pace as always, one minute and goodbye. “I hope you enjoy the rest of the event. And thanks again for the gift. It means a lot to me."

You were both silent for a moment, just smiling, staring at each other. The rest of the minute they spent talking about basic things: tastes, music, clothes and sometimes about the album.

Finally, the boy said bye with a soft "goodbye", and Ni-ki watched him approach the next member, his heart still pounding.

When the event was over and Ni-ki had a moment to reflect, he realized that that brief encounter had left a deep mark on him. The unexpected connection, the mix of shame and love, all contributed to an experience he would cherish for a long time.

"So... that boy turned out to be our fan" Heeseung said, approaching the minor, gently squeezing his shoulder in a way to comfort him.

“No, he's just my fan.” He smiled, caressing the letter you had previously given him.

￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣

메모 ! 📌ㅤ⸻ㅤ Let's avoid the fact that I put Ronaldo in the Lore and let's avoid that I also made everything very cliché. 😴

ㅤㅤ아이디어 !ㅤ⸻ㅤI'm very short of ideas lately, so feel free to ㅤㅤㅤ leave me any requests! <⁠(⁠￣⁠︶⁠￣⁠)⁠>

ㅤㅤ All credits to @angelsfat3 / @foschiamara

￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣

[himbofan4444]

“Another day…” I say to myself as I walk through the parking garage. The is air still damp from the rainstorm yesterday. I look around. The garage is oddly vacant. Perhaps I’d come in when the buildings closed again. Determined to finish the day and get home quickly, I trudge past the puddles and cigarette butts. “God it’s freezing,” I say to myself, shivering.

I look around again. I’m used to a long walk to the stairs but today’s feels… really long. I can’t see my car but that’s all thanks to the thick fog that has been settled in town for a few days. I can’t see the stairwell either. The only thing I can see is the fog surrounding me. I sigh and continue my trek forwards, unsure if I’m even moving forwards anymore.

After a few more minutes of walking, I stumble upon an odd sight. In front of me is a shopping booth, something I’ve never seen the liking of before here. A faint concoction of aromas reach my nose: a strange mix of perfume, wood, leather, and some other implacable scents. At the booth stands a broad man. On the table, there are a variety of brightly colored liquids contained in erlenmeyer flasks. The man waves me over, a toothy grin across his dark, bearded face.

“Well hello there fine fellow! How can I help ya?” the man asks. His voice is gravelly and deep, the kind of voice that makes you weak in the knees.

“Oh, I’m not interested in buying anything, sir. I’m just trying to find the stairs,” I respond.

The man lets out a hearty laugh, “Please, call me Rohan! And I insist. I’ll even give you a hefty discount.”

I eye the flasks, taking in the colorful liquids. Each is bubbling and emanates an odd warmth, much preferable over the freezing air of the rest of the parking garage. “So, what are they?” I ask.

“Oh, just some herbal remedies. They’re very common in holistic medicine,” Rohan says, lifting up to of the flasks. “Would you like one, sir?”

“Oh I’m not sure if I should. I’ve tried these things before and they haven’t… agreed with me,” I say, letting out a small chuckle.

“Don’t you worry about that, sir. These are all natural. I insist, try one. Here,” Rohan picks up a pink one and holds it out for me. I reluctantly grab it and give him a half-smile. “That’ll be $5, sir,” Rohan says as he holds out his large palm. I search through my wallet and find a crumpled up $5 bill and hand it to him. He smiles and says with a certain satisfaction, “Have a lovely day, sir!”

I walk off with the flask in hand, still unsure of where the stairs are. I check my phone for the time. Shit! I’m late! I briskly walk through the parking garage but to no avail. I’m still lost. At least until I see my car. Damnit! I just walked in a big circle! Exhausted and angry, I get in my car and sit down. The car is almost as cold as outside, a small remnant of the heating still present. I start the car, deciding to head home.

Before I can put my foot on the gas pedal, my gaze drifts down to the flask in the passenger’s seat. “I should probably drink that…” I say to myself. I reach down and grab it, bringing the beverage to my lips. It smells like perfume. I lift the flask, the contents of which pouring into my mouth and down my throat. It’s almost unbearably sweet. So much so that it’s almost bitter. There’s also a strange salty aftertaste. I cough and drink from my water bottle, the flavor lingering in my mouth.

I drive home in silence, allowing myself to be bitter about today’s events as of now. As I drive home, I notice an odd, unfamiliar tingling in my butt. I itch it but it doesn’t help. “Maybe I just worked legs a little too hard yesterday,” I say with a shrug. Soon, my whole body feels tingly, almost numb. My work clothes begin to feel a bit tight on my body, specifically my pants. I’m sure I grabbed the larger size I have but maybe I didn’t. This morning was quite hectic after all. I shrug off the odd occurrence and continue my drive home.

On the way home, I pass a Starbucks and turn into the parking lot. I usually don’t buy such frivolous things, but I’d already bought that horrible drink so why not? As I walk inside, I notice a strange quality to my walking. Usually I have a quite confident strut but that has been replaced by something almost like a waddle. Odd.

Once inside, I’m finally warm. The warmth of the store is so refreshing. Before ordering, I sit at a table by the window. Sitting here feels weird. I’m not used to this amount of cushioning on these chairs but maybe I misjudged them. I take off my winter coat, setting it on the high top table in front of me. I catch a glimpse of my arms in my tight dress shirt sleeves. Jesus! I’ve always been in shape but I’ve NEVER been this big. I flex a small bit, blushing at my public flexing session. Damn, the gym’s been doing me good recently.

A short blonde barista walks over to me. She’s very cute but my still bitter attitude puts a damper on my lustful looks. She pulls out a notepad and a pencil, “Would you like anything sir?”

“Oh no-“ I clear my throat. My voice sounds less deep than normal for some reason. “I mean, sure. Could I have a vanilla latte?” Why did I order that? I always order black coffee, never that girl shit. The barista smiles and nods, writing my order down, “Got it. Is that all?”

“Yes ma’am,” I respond. Handing her the money for the beverage.

She walks off, immediately going to make my drink. I rub my throat. Why do I still sound so weird? She comes back over, my drink in hand. “Here you go sir,” she says, “Oh and by the way, I love your hair. Blonde is so your color. You look fabulous.” She walks away to serve other customers.

What? Blonde? I’m not blonde. I’ve always had brown hair. And… fabulous? Who does she think I am? One of those queers? Does my hair really look blonde to her? I pull out my phone and look at myself in the selfie camera. Jesus! My hair IS blonde! And it looks… curly. What the hell happened?! And my face… It looks off. Something is uncanny about it. I look like myself but also not… Like my lips look bigger and so do my eyes. My eyebrows look a bit neater than they should and my stubble is shorter than normal.

I get down from the stool, ready to leave and deal with this weird stuff at home. As I walk out, I feel a strange jiggling in my rear. I crane my neck around my shoulder to see what was going on with my butt. Holy shit! My ass is huge! I run out to my car, my big fat ass jiggling like crazy as I run. I quickly drive home.

Once inside, I strip off my damp clothes to assess the damage. My muscles do look bigger than normal, especially my pecs. They look like fucking tits. Jesus, they’re huge. My ass is enormous, any movement causing it to jiggle wildly. And that tingling in my ass still hasn’t gone away. I look like a poster fag. Like the dictionary definition of a faggot. Fuck…

I go up to my room and find a cardboard box on my bed. After opening it, I see a huge pink dildo and a pink jockstrap, both the same color as the drink. The dildo is easily a foot long. I shiver in disgust looking at the items. An odd feeling comes from my ass. My ass is tingling worse than before, specifically directly in my asshole. God I just wanna shove that dildo up my ass… No! I can’t be thinking like a fag! Looking like one is bad enough!

I shove the grotesque items back into the box and chuck the box across the room. I look at myself in the mirror, hesitantly touching my pouty lips. They feel almost numb, as if they aren’t real. Come to think of it… I feel my pecs and my ass, both having the same numb tingling. Oh my god…

My body stiffens up, my back arched, showing off my large muscle tits and fake fuckable ass. Goddamn why am I thinking like that? Against my will, my buff arms reach up and turn my baseball cap, which had gone from a cream color to a black and pink one, backwards. It’s like a switch got flipped. My brain goes from active and agile to slow and dull. MY thoughts become more lustful and… gay.

Damn, I wish Rohan fucked me earlier. He like totally has a huge dick. I pout, crossing my arms across my inflated chest. My heads turns, facing the discarded box. My body prances over to the box and extracts the faggy… I mean sexy things. I pull the pink jockstrap over my big round ass, doing a few hops to see my bubble butt bounce in the elastic material. I snatch up the massive dildo and lay in my bed, my thick beefy legs spread out. My body instinctively shoves the dildo as far up my ass as it can.

My hole feels oddly loose despite the lack of penetration it’s received. My brain pushes those thoughts into the garbage, conjuring up new memories of me being fucked by hoards of men, each hung like a horse and concerningly aggressive. I let out shrill, feminine moans with each thrust of the toy. Each thrust causes my room and house to become more pink and slutty looking. My wardrobe emptying of my work clothes and instead having pink slutty outfits. My bed begins vibrating, my old bed replaced with a vibrating one.

I cum out of my shrunken cock, my small load leaving me gasping for air. I’ve never felt this much pleasure in my whole life! I sit on my knees in front of the full length mirror in my room and take a picture for my Daddies.

This is me now, a stupid, horny, bouncy slut for any man who’ll take me in for the night.

[ncis-yp]

may i request sugar daddy!gibbs? <3

Money, Money, Money (Sugar Daddy! Gibbs x Reader)

Late night, black coffee, handsome man, all alone. Third time this week, 5th week in a row you’ve seen him. You flirted often fishing for bigger tips, trying to pay bills you couldn’t even afford to have. You lived on your own. 18 years old, last 2 months of high school, and barely a plan and money to plan life with.

“See you’re here again!” You say happily topping him off.

“Hey! Rough week” he sighed, eyeing you gently.

“You work at… don’t tell me” you say trying to remember. “NCIS!” You exclaim.

“Good memory” he smiles. “How are you (y/n)?” He asks.

“Ah I’m alright. Just trying to get off work as soon as possible, you know” you shrug. “Later it gets the scarier it is outside.”

“Well, what time do you get off?” Gibbs asks.

“12” you sigh, looking towards the clock. Only 9:45. “Got about 2 hours left”

“Yeah, remember the goal kid.” Gibbs smiled. “Say, what college do you plan on attending? I remember you saying you were a senior and it’s almost the end of the year.”

“Oh, college.” You say quietly. “I can’t afford it, so I won’t be going. Maybe in the future” his phone began ringing. He clicked it silent before turning to you,

“Ah I see… well (y/n) have a good night. I’ve gotta get back to work” he stands.

“See ya around, Jet” you saluted him.

“Jet…” he said thoughtfully. “I like that!!”

Time skip~

The clock hit 12 and your shift was over. You walked out to see a familiar face leaning against a car. You smiled as he approached you.

“Hey Jet! What’re you still doin out?”

“Driving you home” he shakes his keys. “Scary out here” you can see a smirk.

“Coming from a guy who’s packing” you roll your eyes as you approach the car. You were gonna let yourself get a ride with a man who had a gun… a lot safer than walking an hour without a gun. That was how you justified getting into that car.

“Oh shut up” he opened the door and you got in.

When you arrived at your shitty apartment that you could barely afford you saw Gibbs eyes search the perimeter.

“I’ll walk you in… I don’t like the looks of that guy on the corner” he motions with his head.

“It’s really alright. Thank you for the ride!” You say opening your door. Jethro reached across and shut it before you could step out. Silently he got out and walked around the car. Opening it.

“Let’s go” he grinned sweetly. You caved and bring him up. His eyes fell on your small apartment. Clean, organized, your life could fit in a box. He made notes of things to buy you.

“Well since you’re up here” you say as you take off your coat. “Coffee? Tea? Might actually have a bottle of soda in the fridge…” you trail as you thought about it.

“Coffee’s great, yeah” he accepts. The two of you stayed up talking late into the night before he left. Your insecurity of what you could afford present in the back of your mind.

A few days later~

You woke up to a knock on your front door. You opened it to see a delivery guy at your door.

“Delivery for a…” he looked at his clipboard. “(Y/n)(l/n)”

“Yeah, yeah that’s me” you say. “What is this?” The man shrugged.

“A car? If you didn’t order it, not my problem. I can’t take it back.” He said as you signed the paper. He handed you the keys. “Beautiful car by the way” he walked away. You closed the door behind you, walking downstairs. Outside you eagerly clicked the key, looking around for the car, your eyes finally settling on the black dodge challenger sitting in a parking spot a few meters down.

“Oh my god” you say nearly in tears. You ran back upstairs and hurriedly got dressed for work, hoping to see Jethro there. And sure enough when you pulled up in your new car, there was Jethro, leaning on his car again.

���You fucking bastard” you run and hug him, you cry happily into his shoulder. He laughed as you did so.

“Wait wait, I get you a car and you call me Bastard!!!” He exclaimed. “I got something else for you…” he digs his hand into his pocket, another key coming out on his finger.

“Jethro…” you say looking at it as a bright green address tag danced in your eyes.

“Coffee first. Key later” you nodded as you lead him inside.

Time skip~

You ended your shift early to go with Jethro. You blindly tailed him into a nicer apartment complex in a better part of Quatico. Your heart began to flutter as you parked.

You walked into a nice apartment on the 3rd floor. Beautiful black granite kitchen tops, newly installed appliances.

“So…” he says. “What furniture were you thinking you wanted for your new apartment?” He says handing you magazines.

“Holy shit.” You whisper. “This is mine?” He nodded. “This place is mine?” You gasp.

“All paid off. So is the car. And so is your degree.”

“Degree?” You ask. “No you didn’t”

“Yes. I did” he smiled.

“Shut up” you tear up as he passes you a folder. The big words ‘WELCOME TO VIRGINIA TECH’ inscribed. “How did you-“

“Pulled some strings… I think your 1560 SAT score and perfect GPA helped a lot…” he said.

“Oh my god” you cry out jumping into his arms. “I will pay it all back” you say.

“Nope. No need. Just keep being a good girl and I will give you the world” he says.

“Thank you so much!!”

“Of course! You deserve it” he winked. “Now pick out some furniture. It’s your reward for getting into Virginia Tech” you kisses your cheek.

[lukesandromeda]

gimme ur fav luke headcanons 😏

DATING l. castellan

pairing: luke castellan x fem!reader

a/n: hi soleil it spooks me what u will do with this information but i also got so carried away with this for some reason and i did in fact not proofread it

• he’s a thief. so obviously as soon as you point out something in the store, uttering a quick “that’s pretty,” he’s nodding and pushing you along to go to another section of the store, mumbling something like, “sure is.” so as soon as you’re not looking he’s breaking the tag off the item and sliding it into his back pocket because he knows that if you were to see him, you’d scold him for his habit.

and when he hands it over to you later without an explanation, you’re asking, “how did you buy this?” and when he looks away nervously, you’re quick to lecture him about why what he did was wrong—but he doesn’t care; he gets to see the smile and appreciation from you.

• hearing constant “i’m so sorry” when he comes late to hang out with you. he’s the head counselor and has so many responsibilities to the point that even begging mr. d to let him go and hang out with his girlfriend will never work.

so when he finally does have the time to hang out, he’s exhausted—beads of sweat from sparring evident on his forehead as he takes the backpack he had slung over his shoulder and tosses it to the ground.

and he’s trying to give you as much attention as he can as he shares stories from his day with you, but his adhd’s getting to him and his eyes are so, so heavy and—you finally ask him if he just wants to go to sleep, and he’s jumping out of bed and changing into comfortable sleeping clothes.

soon he’s back in bed with you, comfortable and grateful enough that the few time he gets with you is not as stressful as what he had to deal with before.

• omfg sparring is the worsttttt with him. he makes you schedule two whole hours, yapping about something like, “i’ll just tell any other kids who wanna practice to wait until tomorrow,” and you’re telling him how it’s not fair for you to take that practice away from someone else, and he’s rolling his eyes and leaving your cabin after pressing a sloppy kiss to your forehead and mumbling, “see you tomorrow.” when you do see him tomorrow, he’s already working on his footwork and smirks as you arrive. the next couple hours are brutal. there are no breaks. at that point, why did you even bring a water bottle?

because every time he has you pinned down and you’re grunting, your throat dry as you look over to your water, he tilts your head back to him with his sword and gives you a look that tells you to focus.

and every time he gets his touch on you, he’s ordering, “again.” he wins. “again.” he wins again. “again.” so many times that you repeat the same moves, and every time, his sword is lightly pressed against your chest and you’re muttering in surrender.

after the fifteenth time of hearing the word again, you drop your sword to the ground and shove him, knocking his sword out of his hands. you break down into tears of frustration, and he’s quick to explain to you that he’s not trying to make you angry—just teach you how to protect yourself.

• usually he’s the one to hold you in his arms and let you speak your mind; he’s usually your rock. but some nights, when maybe a new camper has gotten claimed, or maybe someone got a birthday gift from their godly parent, he’s laying in the crook of your neck as he suppresses his tears against the soft skin there.

he’s talking for hours, babbling about gods know what. you find yourself wondering: how did he go from talking about nick, his newest cabin mate, getting claimed as a child of apollo, to talking about what he would name a dragon? you didn’t mind, because at least now he’s not crying about his father and the stupid quest he’d sent him on.

eventually, after a long day of a fake smile and the stressful teaching of a six hour sparring class, he falls asleep, his last words of “i love you” resting on his lips.

• he’d been happy the entire night—the blue team, his team, had won capture the flag again. he’d had so much fun at the celebration afterwards, (or at least it seemed,) but now it’s time to get ready for bed. it’s 1:30 am, and you’re washing off your makeup in the bathroom mirror when luke comes in, reaching for another rag.

he stands next to you in the mirror, watching your reflection for a moment before his eyes flick over to himself. his jaw clenches, his eyes trailing up and down the left side of his face before he swallows and wets the rag.

he begins to wipe the dirt and grime off his face, slowing down when the cloth traces the scar on his cheek. he drops the rag in the sink and sniffles, walking out of the bathroom and into the bed. once you’re finished, you join him in your room and climb into the bed. you lay down, and he rolls over and rests his face in the crook of his neck.

you wonder why it feels weird for a moment, and then you realize he has his head tilted oddly so that the left side of his face is hiding in the crook of his neck. odd, you think, considering he’d been complaining about neck pain the day before. you lift his head up, hand tracing on his left cheek and he freezes, body tensing.

“luke?” you ask, your eyes searching for a reason to his odd behavior. you look at where your fingers are tracing; on the scar. you understand, and for a moment, you see his eyes fill up with tears.

you swallow and lean forward, pressing a kiss to his scar before resting your forehead against his. he closes his eyes with a pained expression. moments pass, and then he moves to rest his head in the crook of your neck again, but this time he doesn’t hide his scar.

[g0ldenzinnie]

Princess Treatment x NCT 127

Featuring: Nct 127 Hyung line Genre: Fluff, suggestive, sweet boys and a little of them being dom. Word count: 2.7k Note: Sorry for the delay but here they are, soon I'll publish the maknae line and then the Johhny fic. Hope you like it <3.

Taeil x cooking for you. 

Even though he has the money to buy you a whole restaurant, he cooks for you every time he can. And I don’t mean cooking fried eggs and rice for dinner. I mean plates worth three Michelin stars. He would make you try new and extravagant things. However, every single one of them is cooked magnificent under his hands. 

“Try this” He spoke, offering you a spoon with sautéed vegetables. You were sitting on the counter with your legs crossed. Watching your boyfriend getting inspiration. You bend over and eat his creation, being delighted with the result. 

“Taeil, it’s so good.” You said smiling. He was looking at you determined. “Really? He asked looking at every detail of your expression to see if you were telling the truth. “Because I think it’s salty.” He says, trying another spoon, leaning his head and nodding. “Yeah, it’s salty.” 

“Baby, it’s fine. Now can I help you please? I feel useless here.” You said getting down from the kitchen counter and facing the other vegetables he had on a kitchen board. But you couldn’t even touch them, since Taeil wrapped you in his arms and took you away from his working area. You tried to resist, but he made his grip stronger. Smiling at how cute you looked, trying to get away from his arms. 

“You won’t move a finger my love. You are my princess after all.” He then leaves you on the door of the kitchen and places a kiss on your forehead.

 “Now, please relax on the couch, watch your series and your dinner will be there in no time.” He said smiling brightly to you. You sigh and roll your eyes. “Fine. But next time, dinner’s on me.” You reclaim while you direct to the couch. But both of you knew Taeil would still cook for you anyway. 

You were watching half of the episode of your series when Taeil arrives with two plates. He then comes with a fancy bottle of wine and two glasses. Maybe the dinner looked fancy, but you would still sit on the couch with the coffee table as your dining room. 

That is the thing you loved about being with Taeil. He felt like home, a comfy and warm home. But still he would never make you feel ordinary. 

You talk about everything, Taeil listening carefully as always, asking you questions about your day or the gossip of your workplace. His focus is completely into your words. As if it were some kind of sonnet. When you finished talking and eating, you tried to get up to clean up the dishes, but he stopped you, pushing you to the couch. 

“Baby, at least let me clean the pl-” You were interrupted by a kiss on your lips. He smoothly takes the plate from your hands and leaves it on the coffee table. Guiding his hands now to your tights, going up slowly to your waist. “They can’t wait.” He said close to your lips with a playful smile. You chuckle before kissing him back. 

Johnny x Princess Passenger. 

Johnny's favorite dates were when you just got into the car and drove. It didn’t have to be somewhere in particular. He just needed you in the passenger seat, some music and the road. So, everything you asked for in the car was yours. You wanted to drive through? Right away. You wanted to put on the music? Ok for him. You wanted just to sleep? Bend the seat, he’ll be quiet. 

For him, you could be doing anything and still love your company in the car. But he had one condition. As you know your boyfriend very well, he is very clingy. He needs to touch you to feel easy. And that includes even when you are in the same car. It can be touching your hand, or your thigh, or something else. Even though you love that about him, you would still tease him some days. 

And today was definitely one of those days.

It was 10:00 PM, when Johnny called you. It was a surprise since you thought he would be working till late at night. “Hello?” You responded confused on the phone. “Let 's ride.” Your boyfriend responded with his usual excited voice. You can already imagine that playful smile on his face at the other side of the line. 

“I thought you were working late.” You said while putting your shoes on. “Well, I am…” He said on the speaker. You try not to laugh, because you know your boyfriend. “And?...” You responded, making him continue. “Well, I escaped.” He confessed. You laugh. “Johnny, one day you will get fired.” You said getting up from your bed. You heard the laugh of Johnny through your phone.

 “Just get your ass in my car. We’re going to get ice cream.” The thoughts in your head disappeared when you heard the magical word. “Yay! Ice cream!” So now you were in his car eating your favorite ice cream, hearing pitch perfect. Your life couldn’t get any better. “Give me some.” Johnny asked while driving. You handed him a spoon, and naturally like a professional he ate it with his eyes on the road. You found that so hot about him. 

By instinct, he then leaned his head towards your hand. Looking for your caring,  As I mentioned before, you were feeling a little playful. So instead of letting him feel your hand as you usually did, you removed your hand. 

Him, completely confused, tries to catch your hand again. But you put it out of his reach, again. “Hey, what’s gotten into you?” he asks, looking at you weird. “Nothing” you say while holding your laughter. He nods and tries another move, this time reaching your tight. His grip was firm and secure. You bite your lip, knowing that he is just trying to provoke you. You loved when he grabbed your tight like that. 

But still you removed his hand. You let out a little giggle when your boyfriend again tried to touch you. Letting him know that you were just messing with him. So he decided to pay you back. This time he used a little more force into his grip. Leaving your skin with red marks. You hold a moan biting your inner cheek. Johnny smirking at your reaction. 

“If you take out your hand one more time, I’m gonna have to pull over and punish you princess.” 

Taeyong x Giving you flowers 

It was believed that victorians gave the yellow tulips the meaning of “there's sunshine in your smile.”

This man would remind himself that every time he encountered you, he would have to give you flowers. And not just any kind of flower. Every time he gave you one, this would be different than the last one. 

And every single one of them had a specific meaning. He would probably investigate what kind of flower is and the meaning of his color. And do you think these flowers come alone? No, no. There is always a little note with a rhyme he created just for you. 

You were at your work cafe when you suddenly felt two taps on your shoulder and turned to find no one. You shrink your eyebrows, thinking you definitely feel someone calling you. To your surprise, you turned around and found a beautiful bouquet on your face. The man holding them was hiding behind them. But of course you knew who it was. 

“Tae, I thought you were on practice.” You say holding the bouquet and finding Taeyong behind with a smile. “I was, but that doesn't stop me from seeing my princess.” You smile sweetly hearing those words and looking at the flowers. 

They were beautiful yellow tulips. Taeyong, seeing your smile, grins for himself and says “That’s the smile.” You look at him confused, not understanding what he said. “What?” He shakes his head and just gets closer to you, placing a short and sweet kiss on your lips. 

“Nothing baby, c’mon I only have 10 minutes.” He quickly takes your hand and runs to one of the tables in the coffee shop. 

During those 10 minutes you talk about nonsense. Taboo topics like the gossip in your workplace and in his. Some drama that happened with the members, ending in another hilarious fight between Haechan and Doyoung. 

You laugh when Taeyong tells you this, imagining the dynamic duo screaming like they usually do. But you didn’t notice the moment you started laughing, Taeyongs chest filled with the air, gasping at how beautiful you looked right now. 

It’s just when you laughed, you took his breath away. It was like a hundred start lights were blinding him every time your smile appeared. And he was delighted by it. Without him noticing, he raised his hand to take yours. 

His gaze softened, focusing on you and you only. You stop giggling and look at him confused. “What?” He shakes his head, smiling now. “Nothing just… I love you so much.” You smile and intertwine your fingers with his. “I love you too.” He responds smiling and leaning closer to kiss your lips, but he was interrupted by your boss. 

“Y/n, stop smooching and get your ass back to work.” She says from the board. Your boyfriend giggles and looks at you mischievous. “Someone is calling you.” You sigh and nod. 

You get up from the chair, grabbing the flowers. “Thank you.” He smiles and caresses your cheek. “Of course princess.” He kissed you and left waving his hand like a little kid. You waved him back and went back to work.

 Afterwards, when you were alone and more calm, you checked the card that was attached to the flowers. When you read the message you blush and feel a warmness in your chest. 

"Her smile shines like rays of sunlight on a gloomy day, just like an angel, with every smile, she shines away the rain clouds, making my heart sway.”

Yuta x dress you. 

This might be understood as he chooses all of your clothes, but no. He literally dresses you. He must put on your clothes all the time. Zip your dress, put on your hoodie, lock your necklace, anything. 

But his favorite thing in the whole world is to tie your heels. He has something with your legs, So whenever he finds an opportunity, he touches them. And you knew it, so you used it every time for your own pleasure. 

One night, you were preparing yourselves for a gala party of the company. Yuta was tying the aces of his shoes on the bed, wearing a black suit that fit him in a way that should be illegal. The first two buttons of his black blouse were open, making his chest clear to the open. You bite your lip, watching your sexy boyfriend being totally naive of his reaction to you. 

So, since this morning you have been feeling a little… playful, you decided to tease him a little. You walked smoothly to him, Yuta still unaware of your presence. Just when you were in front of him, he raised his gaze. 

“What’s wrong darling?” He asked softly. You smiled in return, looking down at him. Slowly you raised your leg, leaving it discovered because of your black long leg cutout dress, until your heel was between his legs, pressed against the mattress. 

You gave him an innocent look, that both of you know it was fake. Still, he smiled wide looking at you up and down. He loved this act of yours. You smile in response and ask softly. “Would you help me baby?”

He analyzes your leg, going down slowly, finishing in your unwrapped heel. He chuckles, shaking his head. “You’re trying to provoke me, princess?” He says before straightening to have a better posture. You just shrink your shoulders. “I don’t know what you are talking about.” He giggles at your act of innocence.

His hand went to your leg slowly. Caressing your calf with his thumb, sending you chills to your core. He then reached out for your heel. Tying it like a professional, since he has done this so many times. 

After finishing, he gets close to your ankle leaving a soft kiss on your skin. You chuckle at the sensation, making your boyfriend have his known playful smile. He tapped your leg twice. “The other one, please”. 

You obey him by changing the leg. He makes the same process. His thumbs moved gently, like your skin was made of glass. You close your eyes, feeling relaxed and aroused by his movements. As you always did. 

But you suddenly feel a little puncture on your leg. You let out a little scream and open your eyes, to find Yuta giggling. He had just bitten you. You gasp looking at him outraged. “Meany” You say smiling. “Teaser” He responds by getting up quickly, wrapping you in his arms and starting to kiss your neck. 

You giggle and try to stop him. "Baby the gala." He separates and smiles playful. "Don't think you're getting away with this. The night has just started princess."

Doyoung x pays for everything

This man doesn’t even let you take out your wallet. You find amazing the ability Doyoung has to pay that fast. Whenever you try to pay, he already has his card in his hand, saying that “he got it.” It happens in restaurants, fairs, malls, even in gift shops. You can’t escape Doyoung’s money.  

Even when he was not present. 

You were facing yourself in front of the hairdresser mirror. With your new haircut, that you would still be trying to settle with. You wanted a change for this year, so you thought that your hair would be the perfect victim. 

“So what do you think?” Your aunt asks, owner of the hairdresser. You always got your hair with her. She had an undisputed talent. 

“It 's amazing. Thank you auntie.” You respond, getting up from the chair. “So how much do I owe you?” You turn around, facing her. When you do, you find a nervous face. Shrinking eyes and a tense smile. 

“Yeah well, about that…” You look at her confused, but in just two seconds you got your answer. “No he didn’t” You say angry. Your aunt gives you an expression of defeat. “I told him it wasn’t necessary, but he insisted. And he gave me, well, a good tip.” 

Of course he did, you thought. You thanked your aunt once again and went directly to your shared apartment you had with your boyfriend downtown. Knowing he would be there, to finally face him. 

After a 10 minute walk, you finally reach your apartment, finding Doyoung on the couch. He gave you a wide smile, analyzing your look and instantly loving it. “Someone is looking gorgeous.” He says flirty getting up to embrace you with a hug. 

“Thanks to you.” You say in a not so motivated way. He separates from you, looking confused. “What do you mean?” 

“You paid my aunt for my haircut.” He didn’t change his confused look. “So?” He asks you. You sigh and separate to go to the kitchen. “I wanted, for once, to pay for something by myself.” You turn quickly. “It’s not that I’m not thankful.” Doyoung shrinks his eyebrows. “Good, because you don’t seem like it.” You close your eyes in desperation. 

“That is not what I wanted to express.” You pause for a moment, and sight. “I just… I just feel like I’m taking advantage of you.” You feel your chest heavy, finally confessing that you felt guilty everytime he wasted his money with you. 

But for him, it wasn't a waste. He got close to you, slowly to not scare you. You long for an exhausted or tired face on your boyfriend. But you only find a sweet and dearing face. Doyoung takes your face gently, caressing your cheeks with your thumbs. 

“My princess, you can use me in any way you want.” He got close and gave you a peek on the lips. “It will never bother me.” You giggle and shake your head. “That doesn’t make me feel better.” You respond, wrapping your arms around your neck. He chuckles and gives another kiss on the lips. This one is deeper and stronger. He separates, giving you little kisses on the cheek and starts to talk in your ear.

“Maybe you’ll feel better when we go out and eat in a nice restaurant. So everyone can see that new haircut of yours.” You smirk, taking your boyfriend's face, for him to see you. “At least let me pay for dessert.” 

He then smirks and leans his forehead against yours. “You are the only dessert I need.” 

[alwaysmicado]

Don't ruin the sofa

6.5k | 18+ MDNI | fwb!Joel Miller x f!reader | pt. 3

Warnings: no outbreak au, implied age gap, mild hurt/comfort, mention of blood, phone sex, talk of anal play, one (1) face slap, rough sex, pain kink, unprotected piv, creampie, breeding kink, degradation/praise, fluffy aftercare, pet names, dom!Joel Summary: After a phone call brings up repressed emotions, you decide to buy a new sofa. Joel assembles it for you, then fucks you on it.  A/N: You're trying to reach reader? Sorry, she's moved on. (+ is fucking the hottest guy around). Read the previous parts here: pt. 1 | pt. 2 | masterlist | AO3 (each part can be read alone). Thank you all for your love on this series. Your kind words mean the world to me. 🤍

“How is this my fucking life,” you whisper to yourself and let your phone fall onto the wooden coffee table with a thud. You get up with a groan and drag yourself to the fridge where you know an opened bottle of white wine is waiting for you, then pour yourself a healthy amount, eye the glass, pour some more and shuffle back to the sofa. 

As soon as you plop back down, your phone lights up and vibrates for the third time since you came home from work. The loud and resonant buzz, amplified and carried by the hard surface of the table, is aggravating to say the least. You take a big sip of your wine and let out an exasperated sigh when the caller won’t let up. That’s it, you’ve had enough. In a split second you swipe up to take the call and put the phone to your ear. 

You don’t say anything. He’s the one who’s been texting and calling you every night for the past week, so you’re certainly not going to say something first. Instead, you wait and swirl your wine.

“Finally,” you hear him breathe with relief. “I thought you’d never pick up.” 

Then why do you keep calling, you stupid idiot. You roll your eyes in annoyance and put your naked feet on the coffee table. The wine is successfully taking the edge off, but you're still this close to telling him off for good. Perhaps you should; he deserves it. 

“I’ve been thinking about you a lot, babe,” he purrs into your ear, his sickeningly sweet voice sending a shiver down your spine. “About you, about us; about everything, really. About what could’ve been if things didn’t end like they di-”

“What do you want, Simon?” You interrupt him, your patience for his theatrics already wearing thin. 

“Oh, babe,” he breathes, “It’s so good to hear your vo-”

“What do you want?” You ask again, emphasizing every word.

“I want to apologize,” he answers with a deep sigh, then clears his throat. “I- I’m sorry about what happened and how we ended things, I really am.”

You snort and pluck a stray piece of lint from your tank top. Is he for real right now?

“Cool story, Simon,” you deadpan as you get up to go grab the wine bottle from the fridge. “That it?” 

“I was hoping we could talk about things, maybe meet up? I’d love to see you.” 

You slam the fridge door shut and take the bottle back to the sofa. “There’s nothing to talk about,” you mutter and pour yourself another glass. 

“Of course there is,” Simon protests, the agitated tone of his voice betraying the calm and collected facade he tried to put up. “I really think we should talk about what happened. I can’t just forget about it, you know.” Oh yeah, this is the real Simon. Always trying to manipulate the people around him. Sucks for him that you’ve figured it out. 

“Sounds like a you problem,” you mumble and bring the cold rim of the glass back to your lips. 

“Oh, come on now. Why are you acting like this?” He groans, his annoyance palpable. When he realizes you’re not going to answer him and that he maybe should be more diplomatic, he relents. “I just think we should talk about it, that’s all.”

“You wanna talk about it, huh?” You laugh dryly. “About how you were fucking Laura while I was bleeding. Or how you were fucking her when I was in surgery. Or how you were fucking her when I desperately tried to reach you. You wanna talk about all of that.” 

“Hey, that’s not fair,” Simon counters. “We weren’t together at that point and-,” he trails off and sighs deeply. “I was scared, okay?”

You sigh and pinch the bridge of your nose. “We’ve had this exact conversation three years ago, Simon. There’s nothing left to say. I’m over it.”

“How can you say that?” he asks incredulously.

“You never once called me after I moved out to ask how I was. Not once,” you sigh, this conversation slowly tugging at the stitches of wounds you thought were long closed.

“You told me you didn’t wanna hear from me,” Simon huffs. “And I was- fuck. I’m just sorry, okay? I know i fucked up.”

You both don’t say anything for a few seconds, his breathing in your ear the only thing you can hear. 

“Can we meet, babe? Please? I think it would be good for both of us.” 

You chug the remaining wine and take a deep breath.

“Leave me the fuck alone, Simon. I got nothing to say to you.” 

And with that you hang up and throw your phone across the sofa. You take a deep breath, put your feet on the ground and your palms on your thighs. You close your eyes and say out loud, “calm, safe, breathe.” You repeat the mantra before adding, “It’s over, I’m here, I’m safe. Nothing can hurt me, nothing can hurt me.” 

When you open your eyes again and observe the familiar surroundings of your apartment, a soothing feeling of  comfort washes over you. There’s the purple vase you bought at a flea market in the first week after moving in, there are your beloved succulents that look as healthy as ever, there’s the painting you got from your talented colleague for your last birthday. And there’s the polaroid Tommy took of you and Joel at the party where he introduced you two.

You quickly wipe away your tears and turn on your TV. Another glass of wine, your favorite show and you’ll be able to sleep in no time, you tell yourself. You get up to get a new bottle from the fridge and decide to take the leftover banana bread you made with you as well. It’s time for all the comfort you can get. 

With your hands full, you shuffle back to the sofa and, due to the dim light and the fact that you just downed an almost full bottle of wine on an empty stomach, you completely miss the fact that you’re directly walking into one of the coffee table legs. You stub your toes hard, trip and fall to the floor. You can only watch in slow motion as the plate flies through the air and shatters on your hardwood floor, the banana bread just rolling away sadly. The wine glass is even more spectacular, as its contents spill all over your sofa and the glass explodes into a thousand shards. 

“Fuck my life,” you groan and get on your knees to pick up the big pieces with your hands before sweeping up the smaller ones with a dustpan and brush later. 

“Shit,” you hiss and clutch your wrist. 

Of course you cut yourself on one of the shards, blood immediately trickling down onto the carpet. The cut on your palm is not deep, but it stings. And the blood is already seeping into the fabric - great. You let out an exasperated sigh and get up. 

You can’t be bothered to take care of all this right now, so you slap a too small bandaid over the cut, brush your teeth, take your melatonin with a glass of water and go to bed. 

— 

What sociopath calls this early? And on your day off no less. You groan at the sharp and grating sound emitted by your phone on the nightstand, but pick up when you see who it is. 

“Yeah?” Your voice is little more than a hoarse whisper, laced with a sleepy rasp. 

“Aww, did I wake the princess?” Joel asks in mock concern. You can hear the smirk on his stupid handsome face through the phone. 

“No, no,” you murmur and rub your bleary eyes. “I’ve already run ten miles, deep-cleaned my whole apartment and rescued a cat from a tree. What have you done, hm?” 

“Touché. Very impressive, darlin’,” he chuckles, your wit never failing to amuse him. “And no, I haven’t rescued any cats so far today. I’m just at work. Besides,” he continues before his voice takes on a sultry tone, “the only pussy I’m interested in is yours anyway.”

You involuntarily suck in a breath and feel yourself clench around nothing. You’re still half asleep and have no clue what planet you’re on, but Joel’s still managed to get you all hot and bothered within ten seconds of your conversation; and with a shitty pun at that.

You might have a mild problem. 

“Hmm, you like that, don’t you?” He groans softly as the rhythmic fapping sound reaches your ear.

“Are you jerking off right now?” You ask, less shocked and definitely more turned on than you should be. 

“Yeah,” he purrs. “You wanna help me, baby?” 

“Hang on,” you say, trying to process the situation. “You’re at work and you just what, decided to call me at - you look at the time on your display - 7:13 in the morning, so I could get you off?”

“Pretty much, yeah,” Joel murmurs into your ear.  

You can’t help but chuckle at his audacity and complete lack of shame. You love it. 

“Alright,” you coo, “but first you gotta tell me what’s got you all riled up.” You put him on speaker and slide your hand between your legs. 

“My secretary’s wearing a tight dress today,” he murmurs, then spits into his hand to wet his shaft.  

“Oh yeah?” You whisper, “She turn you down and now poor you has to make do with me?” You run your fingers through your folds and bite your lip as you spread the slick from your core to your clit. 

“You know me better than that, darlin’,” Joel says softly. “I was scrolling through the photos I took of the construction site yesterday and then the pic you sent me caught my eye. Couldn’t concentrate on anything else afterwards.” 

A triumphant smile spreads across your face as you think of Joel losing his composure because of you. It is a hot photo to be fair. After your phone call with Simon on Sunday night, you ordered a new sofa, carpet and some fun items of the adult variety to feel better. While trying out one of them, you felt compelled to let Joel have a piece of your fun and sent him a pic of you with your best assets on display. 

“You like that one, huh,” you tease, your fingers slowly circling your sensitive bundle of nerves. “I was thinking about you when I took it, you know.”

“Fuck yeah,” Joel murmurs, his breathing heavy. “Look fucking gorgeous with your ass stuffed and your tits out.” 

“Mmm, it’s a new ribbed dildo I got. Felt amazing in my tight little hole,” you purr and hear Joel groan softly at the image. “I used a vibrator on my clit while I fucked my ass, but my pussy felt far too empty. It was dripping so much I had to change the sheets after.”

“That’s my dirty girl. You want two cocks to stuff your greedy holes, baby?” He moans, clearly aroused by the idea of seeing you fall apart while being filled to the brim. You dip your fingers into your wet cunt and use your slick to rub your clit harder.

“Yes, Sir,” you breathe, causing Joel’s painfully hard cock to twitch, “want you to tie me to the bed so my pussy’s wide open for you. I want you to choose a toy that’s too big and push it inside my dripping hole to stretch it until it’s a ruined mess. When you’re satisfied and take the toy out of my ruined hole, I’d beg you to finally fuck my cunt with your cock, but you’d fuck my ass instead and just leave my used pussy clench around nothing.”

You moan breathlessly as you can feel the muscles in your abdomen tighten and pleasure building rapidly. Hearing Joel lose his mind on the other end of the line is setting all of your nerves on fire and you desperately wish he was here to fuck you like you deserve. 

“Fuck, you’re such a perfect little whore,” Joel groans, fisting his cock faster. “I’d film the whole thing, so I could show you how pathetic you look begging for my cock and dripping with my cum. I’d fill you up over and over again until you’re a crying mess begging me to stop.” His moans are getting louder and you can’t help but wonder how thick the walls of his office must be.  

You can’t wait for him to get his hands on you and do with you as he pleases. “I’ll take whatever you decide to give me, Sir.”

“Gonna take my cum in all your holes, angel?”

“Yes, Sir. Please, I need it so bad. I just wanna be your cum slut for you to fill up.” 

When Joel just groans at that, you know you’ve hit on something. “That’s what I am, right? Your cum slut to fill up?” You’re incredibly close to coming already, but you want to wait for Joel. 

“That’s what you are, angel. And you’re just perfect like that. Three holes for me to use. Always so,” he pants breathlessly as he’s tip-toeing on the edge of his release, “always so fucking good for me. Gonna- gonna ruin you, baby. Gonna make you come on my cock until you cry.”

“Can I please come, Sir? I- I don’t think I can wait anymore,” you whine desperately, Joel’s filthy mouth putting you over the edge. 

“Oh yeah, baby,” he pants breathlessly as he increases the pace of his strokes. You can hear the obscene sound of him fucking his fist. “You gonna come with me?”

You moan his name as you reach your peak, your whole body trembling and finding its release. Joel is right behind you, erupting into his hand and onto his belly with a strangled groan. Your orgasm is so intense that you can ride it out for a few ecstatic seconds filled with your breathless moans. When you come down from your climax, you only hear your blood rushing in your ears and the pulsating sound of your heart.  

You try to catch your breath for a few seconds and open your eyes before asking, “Joel, you alive?”

When the only thing you hear is heavy breathing, you giggle. You know exactly how he looks right now, all disheveled with his wet cock out and a big satisfied smile on his lips. You wish so badly you could lick up every last drop of his cum. 

“Mmm, you’re such a good girl,” Joel murmurs after some time, still coming down from his high and opening a drawer to retrieve some tissues. “I’ll clear my schedule, so we can do this every morning, alright?” 

You chuckle and turn on your side, “You’d get bored with me pretty quickly if we did this every day.” 

“That’s the dumbest thing I’ve heard today,” Joel scoffs and wipes his softening cock with the tissues. “And I had to explain to Tommy that he can’t influence the gender of his future baby by fucking his wife a certain way. So, yeah.” 

You laugh at the image of Tommy vividly explaining how he and Maria have sex and Joel just standing there, dumbfounded, asking himself if he might have damaged his little brother’s brain when they were wrestling as kids.

“Alright, babe,” Joel says softly, “since my cock’s not hogging all of my blood anymore, I should try and get some work done.” 

“Good idea,” you chuckle. “Say hi to Tommy from me, okay?”

“Will do, darlin’. And you let me know when you got time to show me that new toy of yours in person, alright?” 

Your eyes lock on the big IKEA packages in your living room and you bite your lip. 

“You wanna come over later?”

---

You’re actually excited for your new sofa. You’ve had the old one removed by a company yesterday and already spread out the new carpet. It’s gray with white shapes on it. And it’s fluffy, so you’ve spent quite some time walking on it with bare feet.

You assembled your old sofa yourself when you moved in three years ago. It was dark blue and you loved it. But you also spilled a lot of stuff on there over time, bodily fluids included. So it’s nice to get a new, clean one. 

Especially when it’s the reason why Joel Miller is currently kneeling on your floor, his broad back and arms stretching the fabric of his white T-shirt, his perfect butt accentuated by his jeans, wrestling with the IKEA manual he insists is “misleading” and “must’ve been written by some idiot who’s never built anything in his goddamn life”.

Needless to say, you’re loving the free entertainment. 

He shoots you an annoyed look and lets out an exasperated sigh when you point out for the third time that he’s reading the instructions wrong. You can’t not tease him, he makes it too easy. 

“As much as I appreciate your very generous help, darlin’, I really wish you’d get the fuck outta here before I strangle you. Lovingly.” 

You giggle and scratch the back of his head softly. “It’s not like you to get so frustrated, baby,” you purr into his ear as you lean down, giving him a perfect view of your naked tits under your oversized shirt. “You sure you don’t need my help? I wouldn’t want you to strain your poor knees and back too much, you know.” 

You wish you could take pictures with your retinas because the glare Joel is giving you right now is priceless.

“You think that’s funny, huh?” He scoffs and tilts his head as his dark eyes bore into you. Uh-oh, now you did it. “If you’re not out of this room in ten seconds, I’m gonna tie you to your bed and edge you with a vibrator on full volume until you’re crying from pain. And believe me when I tell you that I will not let you come.” 

A smug smile tugs at the corners of his plush lips as he observes how your pupils have dilated and how you're pressing your thighs together at his threat. He raises an eyebrow when you don’t move and tuts, “Poor baby, already cockdumb even though I haven’t even touched her yet, hm?” You frown at him, but he just laughs at you. “Time’s ticking you little brat, better get out while you still can.” You bite the inside of your cheek and sigh dramatically before heading for your bedroom. 

When you hear Joel chuckle behind you, you hesitate for a second, but he’s already read your mind. “Don’t even think about it,” he growls. “And close the door.”

You do just that, jump on your bed and watch Netflix on your laptop. It only takes Joel another 40 minutes to finish assembling the sofa, so you’re pleasantly surprised when he calls your name so soon. 

You close your laptop and quickly smell your armpits. You’ve showered in the morning, but it’s still incredibly hot even with the AC blasting. When you’ve assessed that you smell good, you open the door to the living room. 

“How do you like it?” Joel asks as he’s standing next to the cream-colored piece of furniture. He’s already put away all of the packaging material and made sure the cushions are clean. It looks absolutely stunning and nicely complements all the other furniture in the room.

You trace the back of the sofa with your hand, appreciating the soft material and come to a halt when you’re flush with Joel’s body. You look up into his eyes and coo, “Thank you so much, Joel. I love it.” He smiles back at you and studies your face for a second before grabbing you by the nape of your neck and your ass cheek. 

“You listen to me very carefully now ‘cause I’m not gonna repeat myself,” he growls, intensifying the grip on your neck. “You do as you’re told. You answer me. You don’t come unless I tell you to and I’m not gonna stop unless you say your safeword. Understood?”

You’re so stunned that you can only nod, your words completely failing you. 

You gasp in surprise as Joel’s palm cracks against your left cheek, leaving a stinging imprint. You instinctively move your left hand to soothe the pain, but Joel is faster than you and catches your wrist. “Tell me your safeword, baby,” he purrs and caresses your sensitive cheek. 

You stammer the specific word you both know to be your safeword before he tangles his hand in your hair and captures your lips in a hungry kiss. Your heart rate picks up immediately as you part your lips slightly, allowing his tongue to slip in. The sensation of Joel’s soft lips and his broad body pressing against yours has you rub against the bulge in his jeans. 

He grabs your thigh and lifts it up, so he can grind against your aching core directly. You moan into his mouth, your hands wrapped around his neck, pulling him into you as you move your hips in sync with his thrusts. You’re so sensitive since your orgasm this morning that you could come like this if he let you.

“Such a needy little thing, aren’t you,” he pants as he breaks the kiss and studies your face. Your pupils are blown, your chest is heaving and your mind is spinning. You want him so badly it hurts. “Take off your clothes and bend over the armrest, baby,” Joel orders and you obey immediately. You let your shirt and pj pants fall down to your feet, causing Joel to suck in a sharp breath when he sees that you’re not wearing any panties. 

He looks at you hungrily as you bend over the sofa, your arms resting on the cushion and your ass in the air with your legs spread. 

“You’re the prettiest little whore I’ve ever seen, you know that?” He asks as he’s tracing your back with his fingertips. When you don’t answer him, he smacks your ass hard. You yelp in surprise at the impact and instinctively close your legs. Joel presses his clothed bulge against your wet pussy and kicks your feet apart with his. He caresses the red cheek with one hand and tangles the other in your hair to yank your head back. “Answer me or I’ll spank you until you can’t anymore,” he growls into your ear, the dangerous tone of his voice sending a shiver down your spine. 

“I’m the prettiest little whore you’ve ever seen,” you blurt out, then moan at the feeling of Joel running his fingers through your folds. “Mmm, you’re such a good girl,” he praises. “Always so wet for me.”

You hear him unbutton and unzip his jeans, hear his belt buckle hit the floor and his heavy breathing behind you as he coats his hard cock in your slick and gives it a few pumps. “I need you to be strong now, angel,” he says softly as he rubs your clit with his index and middle finger. You’re so desperate for him to touch you that his words don’t register. 

A needy moan escapes your lips as he’s finally relieving some of the tension that’s been building in your core all day long. You push your hips back as far as you can to chase the friction, but Joel withdraws his fingers all too quickly. You whine desperately at the loss and immediately feel tears well up in your eyes. You hear the dull thud of his T-shirt hitting the floor.

“Shh, be good for me, baby,” Joel purrs before you feel his hands grabbing your hips and the head of his cock nudging your entrance. Your eyes widen in realization as your brain has now processed what he’s planning on doing.   

Before you can protest though, he’s already ramming his cock inside you in one smooth thrust, splitting you open with a force you’ve never felt before. 

“Fuuuck, that’s it, baby,” Joel groans loudly, stumbling forward because of the shiver that’s running down his spine, causing him to go even deeper. 

The sudden impact of his cock spreading you open without any preparation besides your wetness has knocked the air out of your lungs. Only when he moves and nudges your cervix does your body finally allow you to cry out in pain.  

“Shh, it’s okay baby, it’s okay, I’m here,” Joel purrs as he gives you no time to adjust to his size or the pain at all, but starts to set a slow rhythm, thrusting his cock in and out of your tight pussy. You sob into the cushion and try to rub your clit on the armrest, but Joel pulls you back on his cock hard when he notices. 

“Nuh-uh, baby,” he tuts as he picks up the pace and uses his grip on your sides to bounce you on his cock. “What do you think you’re doing, huh?” 

He slaps the same spot on your ass as before when you don’t answer him. Your chest heaves as you choke on your sobs, unable to get an answer out. “I know it hurts, baby. I’m so sorry about that,” he coos as he continually rocks into you at an unrelenting pace. “But I really need you to answer me, angel.”

“I-I want to c-come, Sir,” you sob pathetically, tears streaming from your eyes. 

“I get that, baby, I really do. But I don’t think you understand what this is,” Joel groans. “You really think I’m gonna let you come, you brat?”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you whine as Joel’s cock expertly massages your G-spot with every powerful thrust of his hips. The mix of pain and pleasure has your body and mind on fire. There are no thoughts in your brain, no ex-boyfriends, no past, no blood, no sadness - just Joel and you, melting into one. 

When he feels you tighten your muscles around him, hears your breathing get ragged and the pitch of your moans get higher, he pulls out of you. You scream and sob into the cushion as your legs shake uncontrollably. You were so close. 

“Fuck, I love the sounds you make,” Joel breathes, then starts stroking your back and ass gently before watching his cock disappear into your body once again. “I don’t care how good it feels,” he pants. “You'd better not come until I tell you to.” 

When you feel your orgasm approach quickly again, your body so utterly desperate for release, you resort to begging. There is no pride left, only carnal desire. 

“Please Joel, please, let me come, please,” you whimper weakly between sobs. “You can come wherever you w-want, my ass, my pussy, my m-mouth, all over me - just please let me come. I can’t take it anymore.” 

“That’s a good girl, begging so pretty,” Joel coos and slowly pulls out of you. He holds you steady as he feels you tremble. “Lie down, darlin,” he says softly and guides you on your back.

He kneels between your legs and puts one of them over his shoulders. He lines himself up with your entrance and pushes in. “Look at me, baby,” Joel breathes. “Look at me when you come.” You moan softly as he brings you to the edge of your release in the matter of a few thrusts. “That’s it, angel,” Joel encourages you, his face hovering above yours. “Don’t hold back, I got you,” he nods. You arch your back as you reach your peak, a choked groan escaping your lips as wave after wave of ecstasy washes over you. 

“Fuck, you’re so perfect, baby. Wanna come all over you,” Joel groans, your walls contracting around him as he’s slamming his hips against your core with abandon.

“Don’t ruin the sofa,” you mumble between breathless moans. Joel chuckles into your ear and nibbles on your earlobe. “I guess I’ll just have to fill you up then,” he rasps, picking up the pace and sinking his teeth into the delicate skin of your neck.

He comes with a low, rough grunt as he spills himself deep inside you. His hips stutter and his whole body suddenly goes limp as he comes down from his high on top of you. You draw shapes onto his back with your fingertips and he hums into the crook of your neck. When he tries to pull out after a few seconds, you grab his ass to stop him. 

“No, no, no,” you protest weakly, “it’ll drip on the sofa.” 

“Alright, baby, no worries. Just hold on to me, can you do that?” Joel asks gently. “Hm,” you answer and wrap your hands around his neck. He maneuvers you from your back into a sitting position with you on top, then moves to stand with you wrapped around him. He carries you to the bathroom like this, making sure his cock stays inside you the whole way. 

He lets you down right in front of the toilet and you immediately sit down, so his cum doesn’t drip on the floor. “Join me, when you’re done, okay?” Joel murmurs as he kisses your forehead before stepping into the shower. You pee and wait a bit for more of his cum to trickle out of you, then step into the shower as well. 

You squeeze past Joel to stand under the water, wet your whole body and hair and squirt some of the peach scented body wash onto your loofah to scrub your body. “Let me do your back,” Joel says softly, then massages you from your neck down to your feet with the sponge as you apply your shampoo.

When you’re both done, you dry off with two of your fluffiest towels and go to put on your clothes. You get yourself a new pair of pajama pants and another oversized shirt and Joel puts the clothes he came in back on. 

“What do you want from Domino’s?” You shout from the bedroom. Time for pizza and Netflix.

---

“What the fuck,” you hiss as you see the new notification on your phone. “I fucking told you to leave me alone, what is so fucking hard to understand? Asshole.” You lean over the counter and stare at Simon’s messages. Wanna give you space, babe. But I can’t live without you. You put the leftover pizza in your fridge and slam the door.

“You alright, darlin’?” Joel asks as he’s suddenly standing behind you in the kitchen.

“Yeah, sorry, all good,” you murmur, turning around to face him and putting on the most convincing smile you’re capable of right now. You’re not fooling Joel for a second and you know it. When he gives you a sympathetic look, you can’t muster the strength to pull up the corners of your lips anymore. Instead, you look at the fuzzy slippers on your feet and sigh deeply. “It’s my ex,” you say quietly. “He started calling and texting me a week ago after no contact for three years and it’s really stressing me out.” 

Your eyes find Joel’s and you immediately feel sorry for bringing it up. “Fuck, I-I’m sorry,” you stammer and shake your head. “It’s not your problem. Forget what I said.” He closes the distance between you two and wraps his strong arms around you in a warm embrace. You put your arms around him and stroke his back. You can feel his heartbeat. 

“Why don’t I make us some coffee and we sit back down on your new, not-ruined sofa, hm?” He murmurs into your hair with a smile.

“Joel, I don’t-”

“We don’t need to talk about it if you don’t want to. We can just sit, drink coffee and not talk as much as you want.” His warm hands softly rubbing your back make you feel so safe. 

“Okay, thank you,” you mumble into his shoulder before letting go of him. You open a drawer and pull out a bag of cookies. “I got these for you if you want them.” You hold up the bag and Joel takes it with a furrowed brow and a curious smile. 

“How in the world did you know?”

“You honestly don’t remember?” You giggle. “You ranted about how much you love these for an hour when we got high a few weeks ago. They don’t sell them anywhere nearby so I ordered them in a specialty store online.”

Joel shakes his head and looks at you with his big puppy eyes. “You’re the best, darlin’. Thank you.” He kisses your forehead gently, then tells you to make yourself comfortable on the sofa.

You sit down and look around. Being here feels different. Your apartment looks the same as it did a few hours ago. Sure, the sofa and carpet are new, but there’s something else. You realize that it doesn’t bother you to have someone else in your home, in your safe space. It’s actually kind of nice to know someone’s here. 

“There you go,” Joel says as he hands you your cup. He sits down beside you and puts a bowl filled with cookies on the coffee table. 

You pull your feet up onto the cushion and say, “Thank you.” Joel puts his arm over the backrest and caresses the nape of your neck with his fingers. 

“You remember what I told you when you asked me to stay over on our first night together?” You ask quietly.

“I do,” Joel says softly. “You said you couldn’t and when I asked what you meant by that you said you didn’t wanna get attached.” 

“Sounds kinda mean now that I’m thinking about it,” you murmur. “You know it has nothing to do with you, right?”

“I know, darlin’,” Joel reassures you. “And I’ve told you from the beginning that I’m not gonna pressure you into anything you’re not ready for. We got a good thing going and as long as you’re happy, I’m happy.”

“I haven’t always been this way, you know,” you sigh and play with the hem of your shirt. “And I fucking hate that it was one guy that ruined everything,” you say dryly and stare into your black coffee. “It wasn’t a good relationship to begin with and we both made some bad decisions. I know that. So when I packed up a handful of my things and walked out of our apartment forever, I didn’t think I’d ever hear from him again. Until now.” You take a sip of your coffee and continue, “He apologized for the shit he did and asked me to meet him.”

“How do you feel about that? Him apologizing?” Joel asks, his calm tone of voice soothing your nerves. 

You sigh deeply and let your head fall back onto the sofa. “I feel like it’s a goddamn joke,” you scoff and throw your arm over your eyes. “I don’t believe a single word he says and he didn’t even really apologize, you know? He still doesn’t understand what he did. Or maybe he does and just doesn’t care.”

You lift your arm and turn your head to look at Joel. “I dunno which is worse.”

“It sucks that he’s not giving you the apology you deserve after hurting you. I’m sorry, darlin’.”

“I just don’t understand why it bothers me so much, you know? I haven’t seen him in three years, I’m over it, so why does it still hurt so fucking bad?”

“Did you love him?” Joel asks and tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

You look into his big, sincere eyes and nod. “Yeah,” you murmur. “At least I thought I did.” 

“Well, there’s your answer, sweetheart.” 

You hide your face behind your hands. “I’m such a fucking idiot,” you groan, embarrassed of your pathetic feelings and the way you’re behaving in front of Joel. Being this emotionally vulnerable is causing you physical pain. 

“Hey, stop that nonsense,” he objects immediately, scooting closer to you and pulling you against his chest. “You have a big heart, you have feelings. You’re allowed to feel hurt and you’re allowed to feel sad.” He kisses the crown of your head and murmurs, “You don’t have to be strong all the time.”

“Have you ever cut someone out of your life completely?” You mumble into his chest. 

“I have.”

“Do you ever think about them?”

“Sure I do,” Joel nods. “Not often, but yeah. It’s normal. Especially if they meant a lot to you.” 

“Hmm, I guess.”

You look up and give him a genuine smile before sighing and reaching for the remote. “Enough heavy stuff for today,” you say. “Let’s watch something. I can feed you cookies and scratch your back…”

---

“You wanna know what I like about you?”

“My old man fetish.”

He looks at you incredulously for a second, then starts tickling the soles of your feet in retaliation. “You’re such an ass,” he laughs as you try to wriggle away. You squeal and try to kick him off, but he’s got both of your ankles in a firm grasp. “You’re lucky you’re cute,” he murmurs, then pulls you closer. “C’mere.” 

You sit up and straddle him, your hands resting on his broad shoulders. Joel puts his arms around you, his hands splayed on your back, instantly grounding you and providing a sense of security. 

He looks into your eyes and murmurs, “What I was going to say is that I like your honesty; with yourself and others. It’s a quality you should never give up on, even if it’s hard.”

“I’ll try.”

“Good girl,” he murmurs, then looks at his watch. “I should go, darlin’. It’s been a long day.” 

You nod and let him get up to put on his shoes. 

“Joel?” 

He turns around and looks at you with raised eyebrows.

You want to tell him that he doesn’t need to go, that he can stay this time, but the words just won’t leave your lips. Instead you say, “Thank you for today, seriously.” You walk up to him and press a soft kiss to his lips. “You really helped me and made me feel so much better.” 

Joel doesn’t answer immediately as he tilts his head and studies your face. “I’m glad I could cheer you up, darlin’,” he coos and caresses your left cheek. “Call me if you need anything, okay?”

“Will do, Joel. Thank you.” 

---

You open Simon’s messages and type in your reply before blocking him. 

Simon: But I can’t live without you You: Then die

---

Thank you for reading! 🤍 part 2 || part 4 || series masterlist

[sillylittlegirlthoughts]

Hiii maybe wroetoshaw festival fic? Can either be social media or irl🫶🫶

festival | wroetoshaw

thank you anon for this request!! this is if you, harry and friends went to a festival together. i might also write a fic where you meet harry at a festival if you’d be interested !!

w2s x reader

open for requests.





Harry smiled at you as he watched you primp yourself up on the train. Purely afraid of being rushed out into the festival once you arrived. You hated being rushed.

He admired you, watching as your eyes light up and your smile grew wider as you and chip discussed the anticipation you both had for the following days. On the train was you, Harry, Chip and Freezy. Many others were going. The remainder of the sidemen, Callux, Talia, Freya and Willne. To name a few. Your friend group were extremely lucky with their opportunities but they found it was always for work that they were meeting up. Yes, this weekend many people were bringing along their vlogging cameras but they weren’t there because they had to be everyone wanted to be there.

“I’m looking forward to a couple of pints,” Harry added to the conversation. Chip laughed, “Aren’t we all my friend.” As he held up his water bottle waiting for Harry to return the toast.

liked by taliamar, w2s and 32,679 others

y/n y/l/n: weekend loading…..

theburntchip, cal sitting beside y/n sobbing

calfreezy, i thought i was loved

y/ny/l/n, who told you that?

w2s, chip looks like he’s already had a weekend

theburntchip, bugger off

y/ny/l/n, he did just have to sit beside you for three hours

taliamar, so so so excited to see you!!!!!

y/ny/l/n, i miss you!!

callux, please hurry some of us need a drink

The four of us arrived at our hotel, eager to get out and explore the festival grounds. You loved hotels, something Harry knew. You were too busy looking for the reception to notice Harry had changed which hand was lugging his suitcase as he intertwined your fingers with the other. You finally broke out of your trance. “Hi Harry.” You smiled and he sheepishly smiled back.

Once you all arrived in your room, messages from the groupchat came flooding through. Everybody begging the four of you to hurry. “Tell Simon we’ll be there in a minute,” you groaned, unable to find your shoes. “I just need to find these shoes.” You rummaged through your suitcase that might have been a little too full. “These ones?” Harry queried holding up your shoes as you pulled them from his hands. “Yes! Oh my god.” Harry smiled as you kissed him on the cheek, scurrying to put your shoes on.

You and Harry made it to the lobby just after Chip and Freezy. A group, probably to others distaste, were gathered in the middle. All riddled with a buzz of excitement. It radiated as you smiled as soon as you seen the herd of them. “Y/n!” You heard one of them shout, only if you knew which one. Harry’s name was called soon after as he came into their view. “So good to see you.” Callux said as he embraced you. “Great to see you too.” You smiled at him before being welcomed by another’s embrace and then it carried on. Eventually, everyone arrived on the field for the festival. The good thing was, music was playing from every end on every stage. Everybody ran for a drink. “Would you like a beer?” Harry asked, pointing to the bar some were already off too. “Please, if you don’t mind.”

“Of course.” He replied, giving your forehead a kiss before moving on.

As the sun went down, the atmosphere grew and drunk levels were significantly increased. You and Harry were dancing with one another, his hand sometimes resting on your waist but other than that it was reckless dancing. Unfortunately, as you danced your night away you knocked over a man’s beer behind you. “Oh my god! I’m so sorry—Let me, let me buy you another.” You scrambled as you picked up his cup, looking at him with apologetic eyes. “What the fuck! What the fuck!” He yelled, Harry turned around. “Hey mate, back off!” He shouted, the guy just laughing in his face. His girlfriend rapidly apologised logging her boyfriend through the crowd. “I’m so sorry. He’s so drunk. Sorry.”

Harry wrapped his arm around your shoulder as they walked away into the crowd. “Hey. You okay?” He yelled over the bustle of the crowd. “I’m fine, Harry. It’s just people when they’re drunk.” You said, it didn’t bother you but something about his anger felt so genuine even through the slurred speech and drunken eyes. Suddenly the crowd raved as the main artist came on stage. Harry nudged your arm with excitement. “For this first song, grab your significant other or maybe someone you care about.” Harry had never leaned into you faster his arms grasping your waist as he turned to face you. The song flowed as did your bodies. “I love you.” Harry spoke as he pulled you closer. “I love you more.” He pulled you in for a kiss and the night never felt younger.

y/ny/l/n posted!

liked by w2s, calfreezy and 23,216 others

y/n y/l/n: if i told you we only drank a little would you believe us?

w2s, i look out of it in everything im in

stephentries, you were

y/ny/l/n, you necked two pints in like 40 seconds

stephentries, i love my boyfriend 🥰

y/ny/l/n, you can have him

w2s, oi

willne, my shoulders are suffering

calfreezy, my heads suffering boy

taliamar, before my cowboy boots got destroyed thanks to simon

y/ny/l/n, men! i will get you new cowboy boots

[sleepyangelkami]

hi babe <3 can you write a fic where ellie takes care of drunk reader that’s all cute and fluffy?

DRUNK ON LOVE e.williams

☆ WORD COUNT - 3.4K

ELLIE WILLIAMS X FEM!READER

☆ SUMMARY - someone has just a little too much to drink on a night out under the lookout of dina woodward leaving ellie to take care of a sloppy, romantic but very drunk you.

☆ WARNINGS - not set in tlou universe, drinking, intoxication, parties, throwing up, feeling sick, crying, insecurity, dealer!ellie, mentions of drugs, sexual reference sorta, petnames, slight tiny tiny tiny mention of abuse and pedophelia (not really), use of y/n, intended lower case, nothing i write is ever proofread 🩷

you didn't drink, not really. usually at parties you were sitting at ellie's hip or atop her lap, drinking sips out of the drink she had. whether it was a bottle of bear or a couple of cans. you didn't really care, not having much love for the tangy taste anyway. more often than not, you didn't leave her sight, barely drinking a couple sips.

tonight, not so much. ellie had left you in the guidance of her good friend dina woodward, your best friend. she saw your happy smiles to see her and thought nothing of it. tonight, she had deals to do, people to sell weed to. she knew you didn't mind when she did it in front of you but she didn't like to, she thought your pretty eyes didn't need to see her doing such things.

the party had been going great. ellie knew how the college raves could be, she'd sell a little more expensive than usual because she knew the innocent college students had no idea how much it normally cost. she knew it was a little unfair but she still ended up with extra cash in her pockets.

she'd made a third more than usual that night, a smirk falling on her lips as she thought of you and the much appreciated clothes she'd be surely buying you soon enough, maybe even some of that cute lingerie she liked.

tonight, you'd been dressed in a short white dress, sort of tight but loose around the bottom of the long sleeves, sort of flowy. your hair was in two half up pigtails with ribbon strewn across it.

she'd barely been able to keep her hands to herself before you guys left.

while counting the bills in her hand, she couldn't help but grin to herself. even when you weren't around, she couldn't help but think of you. it was as if you plagued her mind. no, plagued didn't seem like the right word because that would insinuate that she didn't want to think of you.

the sound of a familliar laugh pulled her from her thoughts as she whizzed around, eyes finding jesse's. "oh, hey jesse." she spoke, pocketing the cash in her back pocket. she had made money tonight, that was for sure.

"hey, ellie." glancing up and ready to tell her what his chuckles had been all about. "dude, you should let her get drunk more often, she's so fucking funny." this caused ellie's brows to furrow. let who get drunk? she wasn't in charge of dina nor did she want to be. "your girl with vodka―" he cut himself off with another laugh, wiping his face. "unstoppable, dude."

ellie's face must then do something horrid. the colour drained from her face instantly, her cheeks turning a hollow white. "what?" she questioned, worry filling her. "y/n's drunk?!"

ellie had never seen you drunk, never thought of it either. you didn't seem like the type to get drunk, especially at some little party like this. you didn't smoke nor drink and if you did it was usually for some big event, not that you'd ever touch the weed ellie sold. always mumbling things about how the weed 'smelled gross' or the whiskey she was leaving you take sips of 'tasted disgusting' you'd once compared drinking to completely burning the inside of your throat. you drinking simply isn't something she thought she'd see, let alone have to stop. she never worried about your alcohol intake seeing as you'd never been one too eager to drink more.

before she knew it, her feet were rushing down one of the narrow hallways. her converse hit the white carpet and a couple faces glanced her way, wondering why she'd been in such a rush.

everyone on campus knew ellie williams, the infamous dealer who gave the best weed for the best price. they were no stranger to her face or her body but now, as alcohol, weed and who knows what else consumed them, they could barely recognise her.

her fingers clamped down on one of the doorhandles. jesse had informed the girl that you'd been staying in one of the bedrooms, dina had brought you here knowing that the owner of the house and a couple of her friends were all playing some drinking games.

ellie cursed herself, she should have known better than to leave you under the guidance of dina woodward.

when the door opened, she expected silence, sort of surprise to see her bursting through the door. that, though was exactly not what she was met with.

the music was still very much loud inside the room, discarded cans on the ground and bottles in the air being chugged from. girls and guys were in the room, some sitting on the couch, most on the floor, some standing and drunkenly dancing. but ellie's eyes didn't care for the half naked girls or the hazy looking guys. her eyes needed to find yours.

and surely enough, there you were.

you didn't have a drink in your hand but judging by the position you were in now, laying flat on your back on the bed with your dress sort of hiked up, mumbles falling from your lips and fingers playing with the strands of your hair. you looked confused, eyes red and pupils large, you looked completely out of it. your hair was sprawled all across the bed, up in the air as you tugged on it, swirling it between your two fingers. two girls, anna and kate, ellie believed were their names, couldn't stop laughing at whatever you were confusedly mumbling. it was clear that both the girls were very much intoxicated too.

dina was the first to notice that she'd entered the room. "ellie, have you come to join us?" a smirk dancing on her lips as she swayed lightly. there was a bottle of beer pressed close to her wet lips.

"dina." ellie groaned, her eyebrows pinching together. dina looked sort of buzzing but not drunk, not nearly as much as you were, at least. "how much did you give her." perhaps you were just a lightweight or perhaps you drank more than you thought you could handle. whatever the case, you looked more drunk than anyone else in that room.

"uh, i don't know?" glancing back to your figure. "relax, ellie. it's a part, you're supposed to drink." ellie knew this, she knew there was no harm in having a little fun. but she also knew how you could get. it may be fun in the beginning but sooner or later you'd feel all floaty and icky. "she drank some before and after the games, let's see... we played truth or drink, she drank some in that. we played never have i ever, spin the bottle, oh and they have this really cool pool table so we played beer pong―"

"wait, wait." ellie cut dina off. dina looked up, thinking she was going to ask more about the pool table. "spin the bottle? as in she was kissing people too?" for a second, ellie's heart chipped, slowly tearing in half.

"no, no, no." dina was quick to put that heart back together again. "you see, the bottle kept landing on her and she kept going on about 'els' or something, flat out refused to kiss anyone." her lips were moving and her head shaking, dina's hand finding home on ellie's shoulder. "so she had to drink, you know, i think that's the most she drank in, actually―"

"els!" you were already jumping up from the bed, spotting your pretty, also concerned, girlfriend standing near the doorway. dina moved out of the way, letting you engulf your girlfriend. soon after, dina's name had been called and she was a laughing mess, stumbling over to one of the girls. "missed you."

"missed you too." ellie was quick to respond, not ignoring the way your body practically melted into her own. "had a little too much fun, did you, baby?" her fingers moving towards your chin, turning it upwards so she could look at you.

you were a smiling mess, small giggles emitting your mouth with a wide simper on your face. "dina said i could." as if you had to ask anyone permission anyway. though, if you did, you were sure that the only permission you would seek would be ellie's. you sort of just assumed ellie had told dina this.

ellie gave you a pointed look. "dina's a little shit." glancing to her friend that was now dancing. she'd leaned your chin up to look at your eyes, taking in the way your pupils looked so enlarged, your eyes a misty red. "c'mon, let's go home, angel."

at that, a pout formed on your lip. "don' wanna go home." ellie breathed in quickly, knowing this would be harder than she thought. "'m having fun, els." though you really weren't. the entire night, you'd been in desperate need for her comfort, but this was where the alcohol was. and it was safe to say that you were rather enjoying this buzz.

ellie sighed, eyes narrowing in on you, not a glare, a soft look that looked almost exasperated. "how about this, we go home and i get you some ice cream then we watch the swan princess in bed, hm? how's that sound?" the swan princess was just about your favourite movie ever. and you really did want some ice cream. ellie could see the way your face was contemplating your choices. "if we stay, you're not allowed to drink anymore anyway." not with her around, that was for sure.

your brows pinched together, pout jutting out. "you're so mean."

"so mean." ellie mumbled, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. "let's go home, yeah?"

"lemme say goodbye to dina." you mumbled, already trying to get out of her hold.

but ellie was quicker, she held a tight grip on your arm, already leading you out of the room that stunk of alcohol. "you'll see her tomorrow." she spoke, doing the very same when you said you wanted to say goodbye to jesse. ellie was no stranger to leaving parties, it went the same way every time. at first, it'd be a little goodbye to one of your close friends then they were begging and pleading for you to stay, roping you back in when you didn't want to be there. in some situations, that irish goodbye was just simply a better choice, this was one of the many situations.

by the time ellie had made it to the front porch, your arm was no longer in her hand but you were simply interlinking your fingers with hers. ditzy as ever, she watched as you turned your head up at the pretty stars, completely entranced.

you were beautiful, from your strongest features down to your biggest of insecurities. the way you looked up at the sky, tight lipped and breathing slightly heavier through your nose, she couldn't help but smile. everything about you was captivating, she was completely and utterly entranced by your every feature.

but of course, all beauty is strange.

she watched as you let her hand go, falling abruptly and slumping against the grass of the front garden. with slightly wide eyes, she crouched down to meet you. "hey, hey, what's goin' on?"

though the air had hit you much harder than you'd been anticipating, making your head feel all the foggier. "don' wanna walk." eyes blinking heavily, avoiding ellie's at all cost. with furrowed brows, you stared at one of the young guys that had been getting sick in a bush, you cringed, turning away.

ellie sighed slightly, realising there had been nothing really 'wrong' and it was merely you drunkly babbling. "jus' gotta make it to the car, honey."

but you were already whining, your hands twisting in your hair. "but that's... so far." glancing to ellie's truck that sat... not even ten feet in front of you. ellie always parked up real close to the house. giving in, ellie slipped her arms underneath your legs. "what are you doing?"

"pickin' you up, baby." and she did just that. she picked you up off the dewey grass that could have been wet with... anything really. her hands under your legs, other against your back as she carried you towards the car.

she maneuvered you into the car carefully before leaning over you, clicking the belt in place. you almost giggled at this her treating you like a baby. she pressed another kiss to your cheek before closing the door. you watched with loopy eyes as she walked around the truck, opening up the drivers side door. "you know, i could have drove us home?" you slurred, eyes not even looking the right way.

ellie huffed out a scoff. "you're so drunk." she'd seen you slightly tipsy before but this? this was truly unheard of. "there's no way i'd let you behind a wheel."

"'m not drunk." you argued, she scoffed again, glancing down at you. "on love, maybe." giggling in a weird tone. this was before you let your head drop, slamming it against the dashboard on accident. a loud slam could be heard and with wide eyes, ellie looked down at you again. "ow." you mumbled, not moving from your position.

"jesus christ." ellie breathed. "idiot." she also added. "you okay, sugar?"

"peachy." you yawned against the dashboard, picking your head up. you couldn't help it, it felt so heavy on your shoulders. you reached your hands up, grasping the mirror of the passenger seat, shoving it down to look at your now awfully discoloured forehead. "'s gonna bruise so bad." you could already tell. you huffed out a giggle, glancing to your concerned girlfriend who, with both hands on the steering wheel, was trying to keep her eyes on the road. "they're gonna think you hit me."

she gave you an awful look, brows pinched together and mouth open. "why would you even say something like that?" you just shrugged, sitting yourself back on the seat. perhaps you were too drunk to feel your own body right now but one thing was for sure, by morning, you'd definitely be feeling that pain on your forehead. "such a child." she rolled her eyes.

"hey!" you instantly defended as the car rolled into the driveway. thankfully, you didn't live too far from the party. "if i'm a child 'n you're dating me then you're a pedophile, wanna add that to the list? abuser, pedo―"

"how about we just get you inside, huh?" she quickly tried to change the subject.

"never fail to surprise me, william." not even saying her last name right. you almost snorted. "edward william, can i call you that?"

"you most certainly can not." before exiting her side of the truck. soon enough, she was back at your door, helping you out. you didn't need her assistance as much this time, walking with your own two legs though she still kept her hands around your waist, holding you upright. the first groan and hands to your stomach, ellie had you sitting on your knees by the toilet. she was not taking any chances tonight. "how you feeling, pretty girl?"

not entirely realising she'd been on about your stomach, you looked up, your eyes strained on your ring that danced on your fingers, pretty, silver and dainty. ellie'd gotten it for you. "floaty." is all you responded with.

her fingers were flat against your back, rubbing up and down gently. "think you'll get sick?" because as soon as you'd both walked in the door, you were complaining about your stomach. no more ice cream for you.

you turned your head up at her, confused, still very drunk expression on your face. "anna got sick?" your friend that had been laughing at you earlier.

ellie rolled her eyes. "nobody got sick, baby." realising you were still much to out of it to be answering her questions. "you wait by the toilet and i'm gonna get you some jammies, 'kay?"

"okay, els." grinning up at your gorgeous girlfriend before laying your head down on the toilet seat. she made sure you didn't see her cringe as you'd think it was directed at you and not the fact that your face was on your guys' toilet. sober you would have never even thought of doing such a thing. but ellie could tell you were too out of it to even think.

when she returned, she had in her hands a light pink jammie bottoms, darker pink hearts littered around it. the material was sort of sheer seeing as it'd been one of those hotter nights. she also held a white vest, knowing you'd be too hot to wear any shirt over it. how ellie ended up crouched in front of you and taking off your makeup? she didn't know. yet somehow, that was what she was doing. "so pretty." she mumbled as the cloth took the last stroke against your face. what had been hard was taking off all that mascara. but ellie had seen you in many different ways, lights, places and sides. you were truly and utterly breathtaking.

you hadn't brought it up again until you were sat in the bed, bin on your lap as ellie stat up right next to you, hand once again comforting your back as you felt a wave of nausea. "you really think i'm pretty?" waiting for the nausea to pass.

ellie's eyes softened in on you. you knew she thought you were pretty, she couldn't deny the way her lips curled up at the 'fishing' you'd been unintentionally doing. "so pretty." she mumbled against your skin, pressing a kiss to your cheek. "everything about you."

"bump 'n all?" you joked.

"bump and all." she mumbled back, a grin on her lips.

you couldn't help the way you leaned into her chest covered by her sleep shirt. "you're the prettiest." but as soon as the words left your mouth, she took notice of how your face changed, looking sort of green.

"in the bin, baby, in the bin." turning your head and already holding your hair up into a makeshift ponytail. she tried not to cringe as you found yourself getting sick into the bin, merely frowning as she rubbed up and down your back with her free hand, you holding the bin upright. perhaps it was best that you got sick, at least now the nausea may stop. "i know, darling, i know." hearing your pitiful whines and whimpers. you hated nothing more than getting sick. "doin' so well."

suddenly you were back in the bathroom, standing against the door despite her many protests for you to stay in bed. you watched as she cleaned the bin or 'basin' out in the sink. "'m sorry, els." with tears burning at the edges of your eyes.

"what? no, no, no." already discarding the bin as her hands came up to your face. "don't cry, you've nothing to be sorry for."

but you had everything to be sorry for. "ruined your night." you whimpered out, hugging the girl close. "'n now you have to clean everything 'n 'm not even helping."

"'cause you need rest, mlove." she hated the way she couldn't see your pretty face peeking out, heart aching at the fact that your eyes were stained with tears. "you didn't ruin my night at all, you know i love taking care of you." and it was so true. ellie adored taking care of you, watching the way you'd go soft and completely turn to putty. she liked knowing that she was there to piece you back together when you couldn't.

"b-but―" ignoring the way the fat tears rolled down your cheeks.

"no buts." she moved your head to look at her, hair matting down at the sides. "i love you so much and i love taking care of you but right now you need to be in bed, resting up and drinking some water," she'd left a glass on the nightstand. "so that you don't feel icky in the morning." because as much as she loved taking care of you, she still hated to think you felt bad.

you merely sniffled. "love you too." mumbling as you glanced down at your sock covered feet, suddenly feeling shy.

ellie couldn't help but smile at you. "you better." leaning down to press a kiss against your forehead.

"please don't touch my forehead."

"right, dashboard, sorry."

"tryna hurt me―"

"i was not―"

"abuser―"

"can you shut up?"

main masterlist/ellie's masterlist

[steddieas-shegoes]

Baby formula was expensive, and Eddie knew the fact that half of the container being spilled on the counter would probably cause Steve to have a heart attack.

It was an accident, obviously. He didn’t just decide to dump half of the powdered gold that fed their newborn daughter on the kitchen counter.

And Steve wouldn’t be mad about it. He didn’t get mad about accidents.

But he would definitely spiral about how that was two days’ worth of bottles for Ella and how they had a budget.

Eddie told him many times they were fine. He had more than enough money in savings from the band’s success, and he knew Steve had his own trust fund that he’d guilted his parents into letting him keep as a way to apologize for never being around in his childhood.

Money wasn’t really an issue for them.

But Steve was still careful with it, and Eddie loved that about him.

Other than their house, they’d never made major purchases, and stuck to necessities only with occasional extra spending for birthdays and Christmas for their loved ones.

But after they adopted Ella, Steve turned into a penny pincher. He stocked up on everything from diapers to formula to baby soap any time there was a sale, and refused to buy the “fancy” brand that had the same ingredients and vitamins as the generic store brand.

Eddie loved him.

But he was very worried about Steve finding out about this.

Maybe if he just cleaned it up and then pretended Ella had had a few extra bottles?

No, then he’d panic that her food intake was abnormal and he’d call the pediatrician and Eddie would have to backtrack and then Steve would be mad.

He pulled the trash can in front of the counter, swiping his hand across quickly to get most of it into the trash.

As he moved the trash can back to its usual spot, Steve came around the corner with Ella in his arms, cooing at her.

God, he was born to do this. Eddie was gonna do everything he could to give him the six nuggets he wanted so he could watch him in his element for as long as possible.

“Say hi to Daddy, Ella,” Steve said before looking up at Eddie, who was wiping down the counter furiously.

Not fast enough if Steve’s face was any indication.

“What are you doing?”

Dammit.

“Just cleaning.”

“You’re wiping the counter.”

“Yes.”

“You never do that.”

“I just finished the dishes so I thought I should.”

“You do the dishes all the time and never do that.”

He was so suspicious. Rightfully so.

Eddie knew he was found out, or if he wasn’t quite yet, he would be as soon as Steve saw the trash.

He sighed, letting his head fall down and his chin hit his chest.

“Eds, what is it?”

Steve was walking behind the counter, concern on his face. Concern for Eddie. Concern he didn’t deserve.

“I spilled something, it’s not a big deal.”

“Okay. But you’re being weird about it so it makes me think it is a big deal.”

And then he saw it. He must have, because Eddie watched him freeze in his tracks and stare down at where the trash is.

“Stevie, it’s not a big deal. I’ll go get another can to make up for it.”

“What happened?”

“I was measuring out her nighttime bottle and knocked the can over.”

“That’s a lot of formula.”

“I know.”

And then Steve started laughing.

It startled Ella in his arms and she let out a whimper like she was about to start crying.

Steve handed her to Eddie so he could lean over, hands on his knees, and laugh louder.

“Ella, your dad’s lost it.”

“Sorry,” Steve said as he tried to gasp for air between hysterical laughter. “Just- you were so serious. Why didn’t you just say that?”

Eddie knew he wasn’t seriously asking that.

“Sweetheart, you’re kind of insane about this stuff. In a good way! I love you because you’re a little crazy! But like, that was a lot of formula and it’s wasteful and costs a lot to replace.”

Steve’s face went serious.

“Baby, you don’t think I’d be mad about an accidental spill, do you?”

Oh no, he was hurt.

Eddie hurt his feelings.

“No! No. It’s not that. It’s just you’re so serious about the budget and this would mess it up.”

“It’s just a little. And it’s not like we actually have to live so tight.”

That was suspicious. What the hell did that mean?

Steve wasn’t changing his mind on the budget, was he?

He must’ve done something.

“Oh my god. What did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything.”

“Oh yes you did. Your face is bright red and you look like you committed a felony. I would know what that looks like since we’ve committed at least two together.”

Steve somehow blushed harder.

“It wasn’t a felony.”

“Aha! But it was something!”

The tables turned awful quickly. Eddie didn’t know how, but he’d take it. Anything to get the focus off of him.

Ella was gurgling in his arms, eyes flitting between the two of them like she was watching a tennis match.

“Well, you know how we talked about getting an RV, right? Since we had Ella now and might try to adopt again? Since it’s one of the things I want more than anything?”

“You bought an RV.”

Eddie was smirking at Steve, who probably expected him to be upset, but Eddie was thrilled.

Not only would they be able to travel the way Steve wanted to, Steve had thrown their budget right out the fucking window.

“I put a down payment on an RV. I told them I had to talk to you first.”

“This is gold.”

“We did technically talk about it already.”

“We did.” Eddie bounced Ella in his arms and looked down at her. “Wanna go on a road trip, angel?”

“So you’re not mad?”

“Sweetheart, I’ve been waiting for you to spend my money for years. This is the third best day of my life.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

Eddie walked up to him and kissed the corner of his mouth, then his nose, and finally his lips.

“I love you and your crazy budget.”

“I love you and your ignorance of how money works.”

“That’s why I have you, sweetheart.”

Steve rolled his eyes but nodded.

“We can pick up the RV tomorrow if you want.”

“Did you plan our first trip yet?”

“No.”

Eddie raised a brow at him.

“Yes.”

Eddie jumped up once, making Ella giggle.

“Where are we going?”

“I figured you’d wanna take Wayne to the Smoky Mountains.”

Of course he did. Of course he thought about what Eddie would want and what would make Wayne happy and what he could do to make it happen.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.”

“Then I guess we better make a stop at Wayne’s house tomorrow with the RV.”

[lxclerc]

𝐠𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐨𝐮𝐬 | 𝐜𝐥𝟏𝟔

summary: when a world famous singer's reputation takes a hit, she never expects to meet a man determined to stay with her through it all. pairing: charles leclerc x reader warning: none, fluff note: part 1 of the reputation series. let me know if you want to be part of the tag list!

masterlist

you should take it as a compliment that i got drunk and made fun of the way you talk

your head is absolutely pounding and you’re sure that someone must be attempting to crack your skull open, but the arms wrapped around your waist reminds you exactly why you’ve spent most of the night downing shots after shots. ‘

you needed the alcohol to distract you from walking over to the other side of the room where he stood – bright green eyes and a brighter laugh that caught your attention the moment you walked in. or maybe you needed the alcohol to give you the courage to walk over to him. 

people surrounded him and you’d seen a few ask to take a picture with him, requests you yourself have been getting the entire night but had to politely decline with an offer to buy them a drink instead. this man is gracious though, definitely not as patient as you – he smiles for every picture, chats with anyone that talks to him. 

he must be someone, you thought. someone important, someone that matters. and someone that you’re not likely to forget anytime soon and so you down a shot.  

“charles leclerc,” your friend says, having watched you watch him all night. “formula 1 driver.” 

you feel a little bit caught but you’re drunk enough not to care as you turn to him again. he’s magnetic, a type of beautiful that had people turning. he definitely had you turning.

“let’s go over to them,” your friend says, already looping her arm with yours and pulling to the group before you could respond. you see some of their eyes widening as you approach, you see him turning to you, green eyes filled with recognition as he realized who you were. you almost wish you’d brought a bottle over with you.

“y/n,” one of his friends say, pulling your attention away from the driver. you’re almost thankful, being so close to him now feels a little overwhelming. “i’m a big fan.”

you feel him watching you and so you grin. you try to ignore the small voice in your head grimacing. it’s a wonder you still have fans nowadays. after the massive fall your reputation had taken, you’re a little bit surprised your friends had managed to drag you out of your apartment. 

“thank you,” you say, hoping you aren’t slurring. 

you’re not exactly sure how it happened but somehow, the rest of your friends ended up on their table too, the two groups merging together seamlessly as the music grew louder and the alcohol keeps flowing. you’ve talked to nearly all of them, laughing and sharing stories and joking around as though you’ve been best friends for decades.

all except him, of course. he remains in your line of vision and you feel his stare on you the entire night but you refuse to look. it’s a horrible idea, your reputation’s never been worse, you remind yourself. getting tangled up with another man to add to your long list of scandals might just have your media team resign on the spot. 

of course that was up until he shattered whatever self control you had left as his hand wandered to your waist. it wasn’t anything with purpose, barely even a touch just something to get your attention but goddamn this man needed to think about the consequence of touching you in dark rooms.

“are you avoiding me?” he jokes and before you knew it, you’re face to face and you can smell the whiskey on ice mixing with his cologne. 

and he’s gorgeous – just too goddamn beautiful that it almost makes you mad. 

“your accent is funny,” you say and then you cringe. 

his eyebrows scrunch together. he definitely hadn’t expected those to be your first words to him.

“Vous préférez que je parle français ?” he says, the words rolling off his tongue like honey. Would you prefer that I speak French?

god truly has favorites because of course he speaks french. he can’t possibly be just beautiful. 

charles chuckles. “i speak italian too.”

oh. you hadn’t realized you said it out loud. “i didn’t mean to say that out loud.”

and then he laughed and you knew damn well he’s going to ruin all of your plans. 

you're so gorgeous i can't say anything to your face

and so here you were, head pounding and dealing with the world’s worst hangover but having whatever ridiculously expensive cologne charles leclerc uses clinging to your skin. 

you aren’t sure if you’re relieved or disappointed to find yourself still wearing the sparkly dress you were wearing last night. and though charles’ shirt had disappeared to god knows where, the dark cargo pants he wore is still present. 

dimly, you remember your drunken slurring, arms wrapped around his neck. he was only a little less drunk than you were, but he’d mixed up french and italian with english sometime after you’d lightly pulled at the hair on the back of his head as you both attempted to dance to the beat. 

and as the sun began rising and both your friends had decidedly chose to call their own cabs, charles hadn’t even needed to ask you if you wanted to go to his hotel with him. he’d simply grabbed your hand and gently led you to his car. he doesn’t let go of your hand as he drives and not as you enter the elevator. even now as he sleeps and you’re cocooned within his arms, his hand is tightly entwined with yours. 

it feels a bit odd; waking up so intimately wound with someone knowing nothing sexual needed to happen first. it feels odd to be held knowing he expects nothing in return. pure intimacy booths excites you and frightens you.

“ne veut pas encore partir,” you hear him mutter as he shifts, burying his head deeper against your neck. his arms around you tightens as he pulls you flushed against his chest.   

you don’t know what to do with yourself, you can only be thankful that you aren’t facing him because god knows you’d end up stuttering and flushing being subjected to those green eyes. the man was far too gorgeous, it almost makes you mad.  you only hope he can't hear the way your heart is beating so furiously against your chest. 

“i have no idea what you just said,” you say.

“i said,” he mutters with a sigh. “i don’t want to go yet.” 

disappointment hits you like a hot brick. “do you have to?” 

he pulls his hand from under you, looking at his red richard mille watch. “i have to be on track before eleven.” 

right. you forgot he drove for a living. you heaved a sigh as you pulled yourself away from his hold, ignoring the way he groaned and the sudden chill as the air condition hit your bare arms. you pick up your phone, finally breaking the safe bubble you’ve both created. you can’t help but release another sigh at the messages sent by your publicist; all consisting of different articles showing pictures of you leaving the club, hand being pulled by charles with his head ducked. thankfully, his face is pretty hidden apart from a blurry side view with him turning towards you. 

you don’t want to drag charles into your bullshit more than you already have. 

charles finally stands, putting on his discarded shirt. “breakfast before i go maybe?” 

you couldn’t help but smile, putting your phone into your pocket as you return to your safe bubble. “yeah, i’d really like that.” 

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