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godsfavdarling · 13 days ago

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waiting for the day to end

my masterlist, part 2

pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader summary: You and Spencer come back to his apartment, and your boyfriend’s drunken state brings old wounds to the surface. words: 2,3k warnings: angst, panic attack, drunk Spencer, mentions reader's ex-bf who was an alcoholic, no y/n a/n: I'm imagining later seasons Spence but I am not gonna yuck anybody's yum!

You smoothly place the keys in the lock of his apartment and quickly turn them twice to unlock the door. The dark room abruptly brightens when you flick the light switch on.

Spencer, who has been leaning against the wall near you, stumbles into the room right behind you.

The door slams shut behind him, the thud reverberating through the room.

You flinch, spinning around at the jarring sound.

“Sorry,” Spencer mumbles, a bit unsteady.

He throws himself onto the armchair with a heavy sigh, his head lolling back as he closes his eyes.

You murmur under your breath, “I’ll get you some water,” and head toward the kitchen, your heels clacking against the floor.

In the quiet, you take a few deep breaths to steady yourself before filling two glasses of water.

When you bring them back, you hand one to Spencer, urging him to drink. He gulps it down immediately, nearly draining the glass in one go.

You’ve never really seen him like this.

Spencer rarely—almost never—drinks. But tonight, it’s obvious just how far gone he is. He’s coherent enough to hold himself up, and his words still make sense, but you can tell he isn’t fully present.

He was already fading hours ago, just an hour into dinner at Rossi's when his team had convinced him to relax and celebrate Garcia’s birthday with a few drinks.

Now, he’s staring off into space, eyes glassy, a faint smile still lingering from whatever joke had last drifted through his mind. You swallow, feeling the anxiety tug at you.

You felt it early on. But you tried to ignore it.

Spencer was different.

He was responsible and careful. He liked being sober and in control. He was someone who avoided excess.

He was not a drunk.

You knew all this and tried to stay rational.

After his third drink, though, all that rationality flew out the window. With the last gulp of his third drink, you decided to excuse yourself, claiming you weren't feeling well, and spent most of the evening outside. The poker game was so intense that no one really questioned you or bothered to check on you.

You had thought, knowing Spencer’s sharp observation skills, that he would come find you shortly and ask what was wrong. He always did. He could always tell when something was off and always wanted to know. But tonight, he didn’t.

You waited, each minute stretching longer than the last, hoping he’d realize and come find you, that he’d be his usual self. But as the laughter and clinking glasses carried on from inside, you realized he was somewhere you couldn’t reach him tonight.

As you watched him now, slouched in the armchair with you far away from him sitting on the edge of the couch, your heart ached.

This wasn’t the Spencer you knew. He was lost in his thoughts, barely acknowledging your presence. You handed him your glass of water, and he took it with a mumbled "thanks", sipping it more slowly this time.

“Spencer, are you okay?” you finally asked, unable to keep the concern out of your voice.

He looked up at you, his eyes a bit clearer but still distant. “Yeah, just... tired,” he replied, his voice heavy with exhaustion.

You nodded, but the anxiety still sat inside you.

Stop!

Spencer is not him!

He is nothing like him!

You keep staring at him, fidgeting with your fingers and the hem of your black velvet dress, feeling helpless as you try to guess what he wants.

Is he going to stay here for a while? Does he need more water? Is he going to shower, or maybe just head to bed?

Finally, Spencer glances up, his gaze focusing on you as if for the first time tonight. His brows knit together as he notices the anxious look in your eyes.

"What’s wrong?" he asks, his voice soft but tinged with confusion.

You swallow, feeling a rush of emotions you’ve been holding back all evening. He’s looking at you now, really looking, like he usually does, but something about his unsteady, drunken state makes you hesitate.

He’s here, yet somehow not fully here, and you’re not sure how to answer.

You force a smile, shrugging as if it’s nothing, but your heart pounds. "Just… tired, I guess."

Spencer’s gaze doesn’t waver, and you know he sees through your answer, even in his state.

Now he sees.

He’s silent, watching you with a slight frown like he’s trying to piece together a puzzle. The quiet stretches between you, heavy and thick.

You glance away, twisting the hem of your dress tighter.

"Maybe you should get some rest," you say, your voice barely more than a whisper. You try to keep the tremor out, but it’s there. A lot of it.

He’s never seen you like this—not this vulnerable, this close to tears. You’ve not been dating that long. A lot of things are still unknown, unsaid, unshared and the toxic, drunk but highly functioning, unpredictable boyfriends have not yet come out in any conversation.

"I’ll be fine," Spencer mutters, rubbing his face with one hand as he sinks further into the chair.

His words are gentle, but they’re not the reassurance you’re aching for.

You wish he’d tell you he’d never do this again, that he understands why this is hard for you. But he doesn’t. He just looks at you, distant and hazy.

A lump forms in your throat as the silence presses down on you. You stand up, needing some distance, and force a tight smile. "I’ll let you get some sleep. I’ll go… take a walk or something."

As you turn to leave, Spencer reaches out, his fingers brushing your arm. "Hey," he murmurs, his voice soft but unsteady. "It’s like 2 AM. You’re not going anywhere alone."

You stop, frozen, a tightness forming in your chest. You want to say it’s fine, that you just need space, but the words feel like they’re stuck in your throat. Instead, he continues, unaware of how badly his presence is affecting you right now.

“Let’s take a walk together. It’ll help,” he offers, his voice tinged with concern, though still a little slurred.

You turn sharply, frustration and something darker bubbling up in your chest. “No!” you snap, louder than you intended, the word echoing in the quiet room. You instantly regret it, but the hurt is too raw, too overwhelming. You try to swallow the sudden surge of emotion, but it’s too much.

You finally realize that his hand in on your arm, and the realization hits like a cold wave. You feel an intense rush of discomfort. You don’t want him near you right now.

The feeling of his fingers on your skin, even though they’re meant to comfort, feels wrong.

You can’t breathe. You can’t handle his touch, not like this, not after everything that’s happened. You jerk away, backing up, your heart hammering.

Without a word, you turn and storm toward the bathroom. You lock the door behind you and lean against it for a second, trying to steady your breath.

The walls feel like they’re closing in, the anger and fear swirling inside you until you can hardly tell the difference between the two.

It’s not his fault, you think, taking a deep breath, trying to calm the storm inside your chest.

He’s just drunk, he’ll be sober soon, but... why does it still feel so wrong?

You press your hands to your face, feeling the tears already starting to form.

I’m not that person anymore. I’m not going to let this take me back. I can’t let it.

Your thoughts race, but you force yourself to focus, turning the shower on. The sound of the water helps.

You quickly but clumsily step out of the dress and underwear, leaving them in a heap on the tiles.

You step under the hot spray, closing your eyes, letting the warmth soothe the tension in your muscles.

Just wash it off, just wash it off, you tell yourself as if the water could cleanse more than just your skin.

You’re lost in the sensation of the water for long minutes when there’s a gentle knock on the bathroom door.

You freeze. Your heart skipping a beat.

“Hey… uh… I really need to pee,” Spencer calls out, his voice even softer than before.

You swallow, fighting the panic rising in your throat, and quickly shut off the water. You wrap a towel around your body and open the door just enough for you to slip past him. Without a word, you go into the bedroom and gracelessly put on one of the shirts you left in his drawer.

Tomorrow. Tomorrow everything will be fine, you think, climbing into bed, curling up under the covers.

You just want this day to end. You need it to end.

Then it hits you—you’re in his bed.

You stand up and then sit again on the edge.

You should go home. You should be in your own bed. You want to get up, gather your things, get dressed, and leave, but you're paralyzed. You're overwhelmed. You can’t breathe. You can’t move.

Then Spencer walks into the room, his gaze landing on you. As if he can read the turmoil in your mind, he says softly, "It's late. Stay here tonight. Take the bed. I’ll take the couch."

You don’t say anything, unable to find the words.

He pauses, watching you for a moment, before quietly pulling his pajamas from the closet and heading into the bathroom.

You just need to sleep. You’ll sleep it off, and when you wake up, things will make sense again. Maybe Spencer will apologize.

Apologize for what?

He didn’t do anything wrong.

He’ll be sober. Everything will go back to normal.

But sleep doesn’t come. The bed feels cold, and the silence in the room is suffocating. You can’t shake the thoughts in your head.

What if he doesn’t remember?

What if he won’t leave it and you’ll have to explain and he’ll be angry?

Why are you angry?

Why are you upset?

Just as you're about to give up on sleep altogether, you hear the soft creak of the door opening. Spencer slips into the room quietly, his footsteps hesitant. He walks to the bed, sitting down beside you without saying anything at first.

"Are you asleep?" he asks quietly, his voice gentle, almost too careful. You feel his gaze on you, even though you’re facing the window, your back to him.

You don’t answer at first. You don’t want to talk to him right now. You don’t want to explain why everything feels broken. You don’t want him to ask.

But you can feel him there, his presence.

Finally, he speaks again, his voice low but steady. “Please... can we talk? I don't wanna go to bed with you upset and angry.”

You don’t move, staring into the dark. You wish you could say the right thing. You wish you could fix it, but all you feel is a dull ache in your chest, and the thought that maybe nothing will ever be the same again.

Spencer’s hand reaches out, his fingers trembling slightly as he hesitates for a moment before gently moving toward you. "Hey, I—" His voice cracks, and you can hear the sorrow in it, the regret, the helplessness.

But as his arms come closer, something inside you recoils. You can’t have him near you right now. Not like this. Not when everything feels so wrong.

You flinch, turning away from him instinctively, the words coming out before you even have a chance to stop them. “Please don’t touch me.”

The words hang between you like a heavyweight.

Spencer freezes, his hand hovering in mid-air, and for a second, everything is still. You can hear his breathing — shallow, uneven — as if he’s trying to understand, trying to process what just happened.

You don’t want him to feel hurt, but you can’t help it. You feel exposed, vulnerable, like a raw nerve, and his touch, even if it's meant to comfort, feels suffocating.

“Okay,” Spencer finally says, his voice small, resigned. He pulls his hand back slowly, as though giving you space to breathe.

You don’t look at him. You can’t.

“I’m sorry,” he adds, his voice distant now, like he’s trying to find his footing again. “I just... I’m not sure what happened. I know hurt you. I don’t know how but I’m sorry.”

The silence lingers, thick and uncomfortable, wrapping itself around both of you. Spencer hesitates for a long moment, unsure of what to do or say next. You can feel his eyes on you, but you don’t lift yours.

Finally, he clears his throat softly.

“I’ll... I’ll sleep on the couch tonight,” he says, his voice gentle and careful like he’s trying not to disturb the fragile air between you.

“It’s okay. If you want to talk... or anything... just come and tell me. I’ll be here.”

You don’t say anything. You still don’t look at him. But you can hear the sincerity in his voice, the aching honesty of it.

If only his words, his willingness to be there even when you’ve pushed him away could make things better.

But you don’t answer him, because you don’t have the strength to. You don’t know what to say.

Spencer sighs quietly, almost like a final surrender, and then you hear his footsteps moving away from you.

The door opens and closes softly behind him, and you’re left alone in the silence of the room once more.

Spencer’s words echo in your mind, but they don’t bring comfort. Not yet.

#spencer reid angst #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x reader angst #tw: alcholism

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bunny584 · 10 months ago

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OBSESSED: SHOKO feat. The BOYS (PART II)

A/N: This is so…I am so…CLEARLY I was in a mood when I wrote this 😅 there is 100% going to be a third and final part. Please use the visual below to envision the…biomechanics of positioning and such, height differences and all.

C/W: ….the trio is their own content warning LOL, Mature 18+

Shoko is drowning.

She is suffocating.

And it’s your little hand that’s holding the back of her head under water.

…rather, she wishes your little hand would just grip the back of her head already and drown her face in your—

“Do you like the pink or the black dress better?”

Your eyes are wide and gorgeous. Finding Shoko’s in the floor length mirror, expecting an answer. An opinion.

But the problem is, Shoko has only one opinion.

And it’s that you’re fucking hot.

And beautiful. And pretty. And perfect.

And her jaw is so sore from how much she clenches it to keep herself from begging to eat your pussy like a woman starved.

Because she IS starved.

“Baby?”

Your girly giggle knocks Shoko back to Earth, just long enough for you to rip her breath away.

You glide over to the bed, where Shoko is seated. Thighs mashed together. As if it’ll keep her from leaking all coherent thought onto her panties.

“Y-you look pretty in…” Shoko’s voice is high and weak, before it shatters to stardust.

Seductive little grin tugs on your lips before you flick your tongue over Shoko’s bottom lip. She’s immediately cross-eyed.

Panting, with mouth parted.

Shoko’s heart is rattling in the back of her throat, how it always does before you kiss her.

Then you kiss her.

Your tongue dances with hers. Feather light pulls along the roof of her mouth. Shoko whines. She always whines when you makeout with her. Her entire body is loose and limp. The only stiff thing about her is her hot, sticky bud. Begging to be touched and rubbed while you fuck her mouth like this.

And she would touch herself while you did this to her, if she could. But she never can.

Because you’re a succubus.

You taste and suck and roll Shoko’s soul over your tongue like a glass of Sauvignon Blanc.

And right when you have her pathetic. Whimpering “oh god” and “please” into your mouth, you pull away. Planting one last chaste kiss on her lips or cheek before going about the conversation or task.

Leaving Shoko paralyzed.

“Pink it is!” You glide into Shoko’s bathroom, the boys will be over in a few.

“P-pink is perfect.” Words bubble out of Shoko’s lips a day late and dollar short.

But who cares? She can’t think right now.

Like clockwork, Shoko’s two fingers snake between her drenched panties and her leaky cunt.

She just…she just needs to take the edge off.

Because you’ve been doing this to her.

Kissing her until she’s soaking wet every day. Since that night. It’s a sick little routine you two have and it’s driving Shoko insane.

You’re always sighing into her mouth and calling her baby and holding her face in a way that makes her cunt twitch. And clench. And pulsate around nothing.

The second you leave the room or turn away. Shoko’s fingers fly to her core. Petting herself slack jawed and dumb.

Because even small touches keep her grounded.

And she’s NOT going to ruin this by trying to talk about it. And muddle your obvious chemistry with labels and feelings.

A sliver of you is enough.

Even though she is pining for the moment you fuck her mouth with something else.

“Girls?” Satoru’s voice thunders in your foyer.

For once you’re grateful for his utter lack of boundaries. He jingles keys for dramatic effect.

“Car’s here! The tequila isn’t going to drink itself.”

—

It’s going to take act of God to stop Suguru from cumming in his pants.

All night.

He has been physically restraining the steel fucking pipe between his legs all night.

And maybe he would survive if it was just the way you winded your hips on him the last 5 songs.

Maybe he would be okay if it was just the way you grazed your lips over his ear whenever you whispered something to him.

It was definitely the way you batted your eyelashes up at him. Holding eye contact while taking the kamikaze shots.

That are white and opaque, like his cum.

And being the sick, perverted shell of a human that he is. He pictured you swallowing his arousal. The same way you throated that shot.

Not to mention the “You have to hold eye contact with me, Suguru. Or seven years of bad sex.”

Sex?

You are sex.

The way you’re lapping him in the taxi home is sex.

With your dress splayed across him. Heat radiating from your precious little cunt held back only by gossamer thin lace.

Suguru can feel every tiny bump in the road. Because your pussy grinds and bounces and rubs the length of his shaft.

And he’s shameless.

Every time you lean forward to talk to Shoko, Suguru’s hand traces down your spine. His mind’s eye can only picture steadying the small of your waist while he fucks into you until you forget your name.

His cock is raging against his thigh.

He and Satoru have been exchanging dubious glances all night.

Especially when you pulled them both to the dance floor. You were a lock-and-key fit between them.

Like you were made to take them both.

“God.”

Suguru accidentally mumbles out loud. And he’s thanking/cursing out the gods as soon as he does

Because when you turn to look back at him, your hips grind in a small circle on his cock. And the friction nearly short circuits his brain.

“You okay? Am I too heavy?” Cotton candy on your voice and Suguru needs you to melt on his tongue.

Suguru purposefully bucks his hips upward - causing you to bounce fully off his lap. And he would impale you on the landing if he could.

He could suspend you with one hand. And rail the daylight out of you while standing up.

“You’re a featherweight, princess.” It’s a miracle he’s able to keep his tone steady.

“Oh, he speaks?” Shoko teases.

“Only because the love of his—“ Both you and Suguru land friendly fire onto Satoru’s chest.

Effectively cutting him off.

Satoru settles back into his seat. Riding his eyes along every soft curve and dip in your body.

Everyone.

And he means everyone (driver included) in this car except for you is fucking struggling. Keeping it together by a string of floss.

And he didn’t need his Six Eyes to see that.

Shoko hasn’t stopped panting since the night started. Every time you lean into her ear to giggle about god knows what, she moans.

It’s soft. Below the decibels of normal human perception.

But Satoru can perceive it.

The driver has had his left hand buried in his crotch the whole time. Goddamn revolting.

But Satoru gets it.

And Suguru.

Poor, tortured Suguru.

Satoru has never seen his best friend this blue balled in his entire life.

He has seen Suguru take swords to the chest. Satoru has seen him swallow shit curses as big as the Burj Khalifa. He’s seen Suguru suffer.  

And yet, he has never suffered like this.

There’s a light sheen of sweat draped on his forehead. His jaw is so tightly clenched his molars could vaporize into thin air. His hand drunkenly runs up and down your back when you bend over and dangle your fucking prize in Suguru’s face.

In Satoru’s face.

You are a tease.

And Satoru has every intention of getting you back for this.

There will be hell to pay for how irresistible you are. It’s maddening.

You could ask for the world and Satoru would bring you the Milky Way. You pout your lips and bat your eyelashes and somehow, somehow the batteries in Satoru’s brain die.

Every. Fucking. Time.

The whole car comes to a proverbial halt. Because you lean over to Shoko once more. Your dress bunched a little too high around your hips. Plump, perky ass cheeks in near full view in Suguru’s lap.

“Baby?” A snowflake hitting the ground in that car might as well be a raging hurricane. With how silent it is.

Satoru swallows the sharpest, driest rocks known to man.

Suguru rolls his bottom lip under his teeth. He’ll draw blood in a minute.

“Y-yes?” Shoko answers your call.

Starless skies fill the car but Satoru can see Shoko’s high crimson blush from the backseat.

Baby? Holy shit, Ieiri.

“Kiss me,” Melody on your lips is strong enough to sink a Navy fleet.

What Satoru sees next will be burned into his psyche for the rest of his life.

His overgrown cock throbs against his thigh. Beating more aggressively with each passing second.

He can’t remember when he pulled his glasses off. To watch your tongue wire into Shoko’s accepting, desperate mouth. You thread both of your hands into her hair while your mouth molests hers.

All in plain view of Satoru and Suguru.

And Shoko has no idea what to do with herself. Satoru can’t blame her. She’s full of high pitched moans and pants, drunk off of your love elixir.

God. Fucking. Damn.

“Oh, oh it’s that kind of night?”

Satoru is fully aware of the slur to his words. And the flecks of blood now currently under his finger nails from digging into his palms the way he is.

And you laugh in the way wind chimes sing in the breeze. How Satoru imagines the angels in heaven strum harps. Your voice is so…disarming.

“What, you jealous pretty boy?”

You flash him a smile that Satoru is sure doubles as the cure for any and all communicable diseases. A smile that could get answers out of the CIA or KGB.

“Maybe. A little bit.” Satoru is all rasp. His hand palms his length on its own accord.

He has no control here.

Your eyes flicker down to Satoru’s mouth for a millisecond. And in a flash his lips are on yours.

He grips a handful of hair like it’s his life-force. Your kiss is sweet. And dizzying. And toxic. Nothing like this can be pure, it can’t be good. Satoru is convinced his heart will stop beating after taking a bite out the apple in your Garden of Eden.

But he could die on your lips. Right here. Right now.

“Oh Satoru…” you purr into his mouth and he shamelessly squeezes his cock.

You are unfair.

'I’m jealous too, pretty girl.” Suguru’s voice slices through the thick lusty silence.

You say nothing before you pull off of Satoru’s wanting lips and take in Suguru.

Satoru and Shoko watch you nestle deeper into Suguru’s lap.

His hands drift from your waist, to your hips, around to your ass. The way your flesh dimples when he squeezes sends electric currents through Satoru’s cock.

He watches you deepen your kiss with Suguru, who is so clearly tantalized. So clearly about to split you in half.

His fingers twitch along his zipper for a second.

Then time stops.

And so does the taxi.

You take a second to pull away from Suguru’s lips but Satoru doesn’t miss how puffy and flushed your mouth is.

Your eyes dart between the three of them. Then out the window.

“Oh! We’re home!”

FINALE

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spidehpig · 5 months ago

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my fever induced thoughts about bird is horny & ovulating x mean bastard ghost

mostly just rambling, didn’t check for coherency or grammar. i’ve been plagued by these thoughts and just had to get them out sorry.

ghost x reader

mean bastard ghost with a bird who’s been so needy and clingy all day long. he’s not really sure what’s got her panting and gagging for his cock like a whore, must be a cycle thing. either way he doesn’t mind, in fact he finds it amusing. he’s so used to just indulging himself, parting her thighs with his meaty hands and swiping his tongue along her folds as her little squeals and protests fall on deaf ears.

it’s not everyday that he’s the one to wake up to her trying to take what she needs from him. her pretty moans shaking away the last tendrils of sleep from him as the wet cotton of her panties rut against his thigh and her other hand gropes at his cock straining against his boxers. he has half a mind to push the greedy brat onto her belly and just mount her right there. but this unashamed desperation radiating from his bird is a rarity he’ll indulge in.

he feels a little sick satisfaction when her sweet moans break off into a frustrated little cries as his fist clamps around her waist, halting the desperate little grind of her hips. ignores her begging and pleading as he slips from the sheets. leaves her aching and wanting as she trails into the shower after him with a cute little pout.

keeps his face stoic as he pinches and flicks at her swollen nipples, his other hand pawing at her ass. working her up into a frenzy again, makes sure she can feel his heavy cock throb against her thigh as he cups her dripping cunt. thick fingers bullying their way between her lips under the guise of washing her clean. likes the way she shivers and bucks against him when his knuckle brushes across her clit. he quickly twists the rusty shower handle when she reaches for his cock again and huffs out a raspy laugh when she squawks at him as the shower water turns to ice. doesn’t look back as he steps out and tosses a towel at her.

maybe he shouldn’t punish his little bird’s confidence and needy demands. it’s not every day he wakes up to her wet and willing, so eager to milk his cock. but he has the time and patience today. maybe it’s boredom from such a long leave or maybe he’s just a bastard he thinks as he pulls her onto his lap later as he watches the game. fingers sneaking under the fabric of her tank top to pinch and twist at her nipples until she’s squirming in his lap searching for the friction of his hard cock. waits until she’s panting and whining again before pushing her off his lap a grunting at her to go fix dinner. gives his cock a couple of lazy tugs as she shoots him a dirty look and stumbles into the kitchen on unsteady legs.

later ducks his head under the kitchen doorframe to corner her against the counter to paw and grope at her pretty hips, feels the soft skin of her inner thighs are still slick. pulls back the second she sighs and arches back against him. he ignores the way she glares at him across the table as he shovels the dinner she made him into his mouth. and just to be a prick, finishes his game after dinner while she angrily slams the dirty dishes around in the kitchen.

waits until she’s finished until he prowls off into the bedroom and lights a cigarette as he settles against the pillows. sprawled out across the center of the bed, he finally shoves the waistband of his sweats under his balls to let his heavy cock spring free. precum already leaking onto his thigh as he barks at his bird to come take care of this.

can’t help but smirk as she hesitates in the doorway. unsure if this is just another one of his cruel tricks after he had spent all day teasing her. fists his cock and tells her to come take what she needs. almost barks out a laugh as her eyes widen and she quickly wiggles out of her panties and scrambles up onto the bed. licks his lips when he gets a glimpse of her already glistening cunt as she crawls up over his hulking body. has half a mind to stub his smoke out and sit her over his hungry mouth. instead he takes another drag as her thighs stretch wide on either side of his thick waist to hump her slick cunt along the underside of his cock.

he makes no move to touch her as she ruts and humps against his cock, the bed already creaking with her frantic movements. only pausing to grit his teeth as the tip of his cock catches on her warm hole as she rocks backwards again. lights up another smoke as she leans back onto her haunches to bury two fingers into her cunt when it becomes apparent he won’t be doing anything to help satiate her needs. pupils blown as he watches her sloppy cunt swallow her little fingers. not at all enough to prep her for his cock.

she doesn’t seem to care as she lurches forward and her nails dig into the fat of his chest as she rises up onto her knees, reaching back as she pathetically tries to line his leaking cock up with her cunt. her little grunts of frustration are music to his ears as she struggles to catch the tip on her hole again. movements faltering and sputtering a little when he blows smoke in her face. sweat glistening along her brow when she glares at him and finally manages to sink down a few inches.

his eyes roll back with how tight she is, half expects her to stop and beg him to finger her open. instead she grunts in pain and tries to bounce and wiggle her way down onto his prick. barely any leverage with the way she’s already risen so far up onto her knees just to straddle his thick waist, the cushioned mattress does nothing to ease her struggle. and fuck, watching her buck and bounce just to bully his fat cock into her greedy cunt is tearing at the remains of his control.

it’s not until her walls finally relax and she sinks down onto his cock with a yowl that he finally acknowledges her. cooing and taunting her for being such a needy slag, drooling over his cock all day long. watches the way a sob wracks through her body as her hands grip at the fat of his stomach trying to get some leverage to push herself up on his cock. barely manages to rise up a few inches before she’s letting out a frustrated sob and instead just grinds back and forth on his lap with his cock buried in her cunt, so pathetic.

she yelps when he slaps her tit and growls at her to ride him proper. sniveling after his cock all day long and she can’t even take it right? he decides he’ll let her whine and mewl and beg him to just take her as she grinds on top him. she can’t even take what she needs. maybe when she finally collapses from exhaustion will he flip her over and breed her pretty cunt. seems like he’s the only one that can give her what she needs after all.

#i hope yall understand what i mean when i say it’s hard to ride him #like yaknow how if you’re on a squishy bed it’s kinda hard cause you don’t have good leverage and can’t rise up on your knees very well?#well add the absolute BEEF of ghost onto that and it’s like jesus christ you’d probs have to just squat to bounce on it properly #anywhoooo #the fever and antibiotics demons were speaking to me #so i typed it out on my phone #cod #ghost #ghost drabble #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader

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hannieehaee · 6 months ago

Text

LOST IN STEREO

18+ / mdi

summary: after kicking you out of your own band to seek success with the band on his own, vernon finds his plans falling through, all the while you'd reached success on your own. now leading your own label, vernon finds himself having to earn your forgiveness, not realizing how badly he'd hurt you years back.

content: friends2enemies2lovers!vernon, band!au, drummer!vernon, guitarist!reader, unrequited crush (kinda), pining, vernon kicks you out of your band bc ur a girl (asshole, ik), really incorrect music industry terminology (i know nothing about music oops), afab reader, reader becomes a producer after being kicked from vernon's band, seokmin, chan, hannie and kwannie are in the band, smut, penetrative sex, dry humping, fingering, etc.

wc: 8.8k

a/n: i know the summary and content are all over the place, but i promise the story in itself is coherent</3

masterlist | kofi/patreon

"Fuck! Jesus Christ, what are you doing here?"

He winced at the sudden sight of you upon turning a corner in the huge building he was currently exploring, never having expected to bump into you there.

"I work here, Vernon. I would've expected you to do some research on the labels you're auditioning for."

"W-wait. What do you mean you work here?"

"I'm a producer here. What? Surprised?"

"N-no!" he spluttered.

Fuck, you looked good. No, scratch that. You looked beautiful beyond belief.

How long had it been? Three? Four years?

He still felt horribly about it. You know, that whole situation in which he threw you under the bus for his own benefit – only for everything to come crashing down on him immediately after. Not only did he feel like an asshole, but also like a huge idiot. Letting go of a friendship just for a failed attempt at success would go down as the dumbest thing Vernon ever engaged in.

In his defense, he was a teenager at the time. Okay, maybe he was freshly 19, but it felt like the same thing back then. He had been an idiot who dumped his best friend and crush just for a chance in the music industry. What he had thought that to be the smartest move to make for the future of your shared band ended up becoming his greatest mistake. To this day, he still thought back on it with shame.

What sucked the most was how talented he knew you were. That, and the knowledge that he had been the sole person to blame for taking this opportunity away from you – from taking your own band away from you.

He quickly came to realize that it had been a horrible mistake, but it was too late by then. Contractually speaking, you had never really existed within the group. Your friendship had also crumbled soon after, despite your reassurance that all you wanted was the best for the band, even if that meant they'd continue on without you.

At the time, you had been the band's sole music producer, and song writer, and engineer, and you were the one who had a macbook with garage band on it, and–

"Vernon!"

Fuck. Had he been in his head this whole time?

You looked annoyed. Also way more grown and mature than when he last saw you at 19 years old. Fuck, did he mention you looked insanely hot?

"Sorry, I, uh, as I was saying," he cleared his throat, "Of course I'm not surprised. You're the most talented person I've ever known."

And Vernon truly meant his words. As teenagers, your dream to become a successful guitarist had been what inspired him to dust off his drums and go on this adventure with you, employing a few of your other friends to join your wannabe pop-punk band.

You weren't just a dreamer, like Vernon. Vernon knew you weren't just all talk. If anyone could walk the walk, it was you. With your innate ability with not only the guitar, but a myriad of other instruments, Vernon always admired you for your natural talent with music. The insane confidence you carried also did not help matters. It sure did not help the irrevocable crush he'd had on you since he met you. The air of security you always carried with you was something Vernon looked up to and was insanely attracted to. Sometimes it'd make it difficult to be around you without revealing his crush, as he would constantly swoon over your mere presence.

His feelings for you not only as a childhood friend, but also as his unrequited crush, only made the whole situation worse. At first, he dumbly thought that you understood why he had to ask you to leave the band, but it was obvious to him within only a few weeks that what his decision had done irreparable damage to your friendship.

Thinking back to it, he realized how stupid it was for him to even consider joining a label that denied your entrance simply due to your gender. Attempting to create the image the label had wanted to force on them should've been the first red flag. Taking Vernon aside to talk him into kicking you out should've been more than enough for Vernon to break out and whisk you away from a label that clearly didn't deserve you.

Sadly, Vernon had been too invested in making it big at the time. He truly would've given anything to find success as a musician as soon as possible – and apparently you should've taken those words literally.

It had been about a year since you first started the band at that point. Your very low budget garage band consisted of you, Vernon, and a few of your friends. Vernon was on drums, you on guitar, Hannie was bass, Kwan main vocals, Seokmin keyboard, and Chan second guitar. It was the perfect setup, if Vernon had anything to say about it.

The entire composition of the band had been yet another thing that formed all thanks to you. As much as Vernon insisted on saying it had been a shared effort, he now knew better. He needed to give credit where it was due. If it wasn't for you, Vernon never even would've met the guys he now considered his best friends, as you had been the one to take charge of recruiting more members into the group.

Despite that, you allowed Vernon to have the role of co-leader in the band with you. The way you had rationalized it was that you didn't believe in a monarchy; you much more wanted to have a democracy, so you believed that being co-leaders beat a singular leader by far.

This also demonstrated the intense trust you had on Vernon. Except Vernon's greedy mentality at the time did not respect this vision.

Surprisingly, even to his younger self, it didn't take much convincing for the recruiting manager of the label to convince Vernon into kicking you out. Just one signature from him, and all the male members of the group would be secure under a semi-established label that would guarantee them the exposure he'd been wanting, oh so badly, for the past year of being in the band. All he thought of was his future success, completely ignoring that his best friend would be left behind in the process. Simultaneously, he ignored the protests of his members, believing this to be for the greater good for the band.

In your usual supportive fashion, you were a trooper through it all. Your initial reaction was one of confusion and hurt, but it was quickly wiped away under the facade of being happy for your friends. If you couldn't find success with them, you were glad they'd be able to make it big without you.

Vernon made the mistake of believing these words, not realizing that he had just broken all your trust, and along with it your heart.

Then came the other end of the stick.

To no one's surprise, the record deal fell through. Kicking you out before agreeing to sign the group should've made alarms go off in Vernon's head on its own, but everything that came after was somehow worse.

The label had attempted to poke at every single detail about the band, trying to form them into something they could never see themselves becoming. Their looks changed, their sound changed, and fuck, Vernon just could not stop thinking about you throughout it all.

Before it all completely fell apart, they had been able to perform a few shows. Though they were nothing too big, they were far more than the small pubs in which you guys had performed before sighing the contract. Vernon was completely unable to enjoy any of this, though. The blank space on stage kept his mind uneasy. He constantly wondered about you and reminisced about your beginnings together.

This arrangement only lasted a few months. That was when everything truly went to hell. With lack of cooperation both from him and the rest of the guys, it wasn't too hard to get the label to drop them.

It just wasn't a match. Vernon would be the first to admit that greed got the best of him. Taking the very first signing offer that they got had been too naive of him, leading the band to be labeless and without a lead guitar and female vocal. And also leaving Vernon without a best friend.

A few years were spent attempting to break out once more, only achieving certain virality online through the first year of trying. It wasn't until recent times that Vernon and his band really blew up through some original work of Vernon's they had posted online. That's what actually led to Vernon's current position – touring one of the best labels for people in his genre after having established a solid fanbase online as an independent band.

Since Vernon had lost contact with you soon after kicking you out of the band, he eventually gave up on finding you (though memories of you would still haunt him). Not having kept up with your individual career, he never knew you actually made it out and into the big leagues on your own. You being a renown producer under an artistic name made sense to him, though. It explained why he had not heard of your name during all that time, and it also made sense with your past experience making music when you were in the band. Hell, you were the one who taught Vernon everything he knew about producing.

Despite being incredibly glad that his mistake hadn't made you lose your love for music, Vernon still felt disheartened at seeing you. In another life, the two of you would've made it here together, hand by hand and as the best friends you'd always been (hopefully even more by now). But now you were here, successful but at completely different rates, and with you feeling clear disdain towards Vernon's mere existence.

You simply scoffed at his compliment, rolling your eyes.

"I don't need your praise, Vernon."

Well, it seemed like he couldn't really win regardless. It also didn't help that he felt like a total loser standing in front of you, now aware that you had made a name for yourself.

He had heard your artistic name before, but since you apparently stuck to being a producer rather than be on stage, he never put a face to the name.

"I, uh, are you one of the producers we're auditioning for?"

"Yeah. Good luck with that, Vernon," you seemed far too pleased with yourself. There was venom in your eyes Vernon had never seen before in all those years he knew you.

"Listen, I-"

"Whatever you're going to say about our past, you can save it. Nothing you can say can make up for what happened. I won't get in your way during your meeting with the label. Only because I still love the rest of the guys," you softened a bit, before getting that serious look in your eye again, "But I also won't do you any favors."

Gulping, he responded, "Yeah, I, uh, okay. I understand."

Without any further comments, you bumped into his shoulder as you walked away, leaving a breathless Vernon behind.

He was well aware that you hated him, and with good reason too. Yet he couldn't help the rapid beating of his heart throughout every second of your interaction. With the passing of years, he had thought he was fully over his crush, but it all just came crashing down on him all at once upon your first meeting.

Now he really needed to get into this label. Not only for his career, but to somehow get you back.

"Dude! Did you see Y/N? She stopped by the studio earlier to say hi. Man, I told you you shouldn't have gone off on your own. I can't believe you missed her."

As much as Vernon wished Seokmin had been right about Vernon missing you altogether, he did wish your first encounter with him had been around other witnesses. Maybe that way your words to him would've had a little less venom in them.

"Nope. Bumped into her in the hallway while I was looking around."

"Shit ...", said Chan, "How was it?"

"Brutal. She hates my ass."

"Completely understandable, you know, considering," chimed in Seungkwan, sitting on the couch of the conference room's waiting room.

After a short tour of the building the label was homed in, the group was directed to wait in the waiting room as the execs arranged the paperwork necessary to sign them – should they come to an agreement. Vernon had made the dumb mistake of asking if he could explore the place a bit on his own, never having imagined he'd bump into you on the way. At least now he knew you'd be one of the higher ups waiting for him on the other side of that door.

"Dude, stop. I've been feeling like a dick ever since it happened", Vernon groaned into his hands, suddenly snapping up to look to his members, "Did you guys know she was working here? Did you know she was the Hissfit?"

"We didn't really keep contact," Seokmin shook his head.

"Yeah. I knew of Hissfit, but I never would've guessed it was her. Damn, that's kinda hot of her," said Jeonghan.

Jeonghan's comment peeved off Vernon a bit, but he had bigger things to worry about at the moment.

"Do you think she hates all of us, or is it just me-"

They all varied in their response, but the consensus was that Vernon was the only member you still saw with venom in your eyes.

"Yeah, man. It's just you," confirmed Chan, "I thought she'd hate me for taking over lead guitar after she left, but she was pretty nice to me just now."

Vernon was about to air out his endless concerns and frustrations at the stupid acts of his 19-year-old self, but had to close his mouth back up when the door to the conference room suddenly opened, revealing you and two other men close to your age.

"Come on in, guys," said one with shaggy hair and a strong build, gesturing at the boys to come in.

All five of them took a seat on one side of the gigantic table that took up most of the space in the room while you and the two men took a seat on the opposite side.

You looked so put together and professional, looking over the papers sitting in front of you while Vernon stared and stared, hoping you'd look his way.

"Okay, first of all, I wanna welcome you guys. I know one of our producers, Soonyoung, already gave you guys a quick tour of the place, but I wanted to give you a formal welcome," began the taller guy of the two, "My name is Seungcheol, but you probably know me as S.Coups."

"I'm Jihoon, but you must know me as Woozi," said the shaggy-haired man.

Then it was your turn.

"I'm Y/N. Also known as Hissfit."

Vernon winced when all his members woo'd at you, dapping you up with all confidence in the world despite not having kept in contact with you for the past few years. He wanted to join in, but you seemed too genuinely appreciative of it for him to want to dampen your mood by reminding you of his existence.

"We are the owners and cofounders of Universe Factory Records," added Jihoon.

"We're well aware you guys know our friend Y/N here," Seungcheol patted your back, rubbing it afterwards in a soothing manner, – completely unnecessary in Vernon's eyes, but okay – "but for business' sake, we will put a pin on that at the moment."

"We don't want any good or bad blood getting in the way of business, so we thought it'd be best to not discuss those matters here today," continued Jihoon, "All we care about is giving a passionate group such as your own and opportunity to join us. I can speak for all three of us when I say that you truly fit the core message of our label, and we'd love to sign you."

You nodded along to it all, even holding Vernon's eyes in yours for a few seconds before looking away.

"We'd love that, Woozi-Nim," intercepted Seokmin, bowing his head a bit at Jihoon.

"We just have a few contractual points to get to and then we can get to business, okay?", Seungcheol clapped his hands decisively.

A few moments later, your HR guys, Jun and Minghao came in to oversee the contract with the eight of you, making sure both parties understood everything written on the fine print. This took about thirty minutes, but ended very amicably.

"Is there a leader to the group who'd like to speak for any modifications you'd like to make to the contract?", asked Seungcheol just moments before the papers were about to be signed by everyone present.

"No, we're more of a democracy," said Vernon, not realizing the irony of his words fast enough.

You scoffed loudly at that, giving Vernon a sarcastic smile.

"Are you sure about that? Any other member who can confirm this fact?", you turned to the rest of the members in mock curiosity.

"Y/N, I-"

"Sorry, it's my bad. I shouldn't have asked," Seungcheol chuckled awkwardly, gesturing to the papers once more, "You can all sign whenever you're ready."

With some hesitation, Vernon signed.

He knew it was the right decision. That this way he would not only get to live his dream with his best friends while being housed under such a successful label, but that he'd also get another chance with you.

It'd just take a lot of work.

One of Vernon's favorite parts about the contract with Universe Factory was the luxury dorms that came along with it.

Being housed in a penthouse with all his friends seemed like one of the most unachievable dreams, yet here he was.

And the best part was that you owned a penthouse of your own right upstairs.

As far as he understood, this was a business owned building, housing any artists who wished to live at close proximity to the label's main headquarters. Vernon's group chose to agree to this form of housing without a second doubt, having always had the dream of living in the capital of the music industry – Los Angeles.

It had been about a month since the signing, and Vernon had caught sights of you far more times than he would've thought thus far. Unfortunately, none of them had gone well for him.

You seemed to be more than happy rekindling your friendship with the rest of the members, but always refused to spend any time with Vernon one-on-one. If at any moment you were left alone with Vernon, you'd scoff and walk out, even if Vernon attempted to call you out on it.

And Vernon's crush only got worse with the time he spent with you (albeit it always was while other people were around). Seeing you so relaxed in your loungewear when you'd spontaneously stop by the dorms to see Jeonghan or Chan (or literally anyone but him) as you laughed and joked around with them was messing with Vernon's head.

You were just so pretty and perfect and put together.

There came a point where Vernon was quite loud about his crush, constantly whining to his members about how much you still hated him. You were the only person to be unaware of it. Hell, even Jihoon and Seungcheol knew, always giving Vernon looks when he'd stare at you a little too long.

Except you never looked his way.

The only times you ever looked at Vernon were to curse him out or blatantly distance yourself from him whenever you got fed up of his presence.

Even now, as you huddled into a corner of the couch when the rest of the guys conveniently (re: at Vernon's request) left the two of you alone halfway through the movie you'd all been watching.

Attempting to be as casual as possible (he wasn't), Vernon slid from sitting on the arm of the couch to try and scoot closer to you, eyes glued to the TV in fear of you leaving if he dared look your way.

"Vernon-"

"Wait! Don't leave! Just stay sitting. I- I won't bother you, okay?," he was quick to apologize, sensing that you'd either scold him or tell him to fuck off.

You nodded, expressionless as you turned your bead back to the TV again, seemingly not too bothered by him.

It was rare for you to not use his exasperation as a reason to tell him off, so Vernon went against his own words and spoke again.

"Will we ever talk again?"

"What?"

He sighed, turning to you, "Will things ever go back to normal? I- Is there any chance you'll ever forgive me?"

"I don't wanna talk about this with you," you went to get up, only to be stopped by Vernon as he got up also, lightly grabbing your arm.

"Please. You have no idea how much I've regretted it since then. At least let me apologize," he pleaded with you.

"It doesn't matter if you regret it, Vernon. You still did it."

Wincing, he tried to come up with an answer that might satisfy you, but the truth was that there was no way for him to reason his actions at that time.

"I'll never not regret it. I .. I wish you were still out there with us, not just producing behind the scenes."

"Vernon-"

"Do you ... do you still play?"

"What?", you appeared annoyed at his interest.

"Do you still play? At any shows? For fun? You were always the best guitarist I'd known. Chan's nothing compared to you," he joked.

You looked down in what seemed to be shyness, "Chan's pretty good. He's gotten so much better since I last saw him."

"It wasn't the same- It's not the same. You were supposed to be there. I love Channie, but the dynamic completely changed when you left- when you-"

"When you kicked me out," you corrected.

He took a few steps towards you, both hands encompassing your arms in order to get you to look at him.

"I kicked you out, and it was the worst mistake I'd ever made. I lost my bandmate and I lost my best friend. I miss you every day. Every time I perform and I look to the front and you're not there, I remember what an idiot I was. You made this. You made the band, you got all the members. Fuck, you taught Channie everything you knew and all I did to repay you was throw you away," his eyes never left yours as he spoke, despite how guilty he felt at seeing the sudden sadness in yours, "Please tell me you at least still play. Please tell me I didn't take that away from you."

"I ... After you kicked me out, I couldn't trust anyone else. If my own best friend was willing to get rid of me like that ... If all my friends stood by and did nothing, then I couldn't trust that someone else wouldn't do it again."

"Y/n, I-"

You stepped away from his hold, creating some distance.

"I didn't want to play anymore, so I started selling my music. That's how I met Jihoon And Seungcheol. They were already on the process of founding Universe Factory. They saw something in me and took me in. We were equals," you explained, "So, no. I haven't played since then, Vernon. I'm a producer now."

It made Vernon miserable to know that the girl he once knew had changed. He understood why, specially having been part of the cause, but he felt even more regretful at knowing that he had damaged your ability to trust so badly. Ever since he knew you, you loved nothing more than to play for people. From talent shows to small shows at local pubs with only twenty people in the audience, you'd always happily sign up if it meant a chance to play for anyone willing to listen. Now you didn't have that in you anymore. All because Vernon had broken your trust.

Vernon chose not to bother you anymore after that. You seemed happy with your new life. Vernon seemed to be the only source of negativity in your life, so he chose to step aside and let you live your life. He would no longer try and see if there was any space for him there anymore. If that's what made you happy, then so be it.

It had taken a while, but after four months of being signed into Universe Factory, Vernon's band had finally released their new album.

The rollout consisted of 12 original songs, with a deluxe version including three extra songs coming a few months later. It hadn't been fully fleshed out yet, but the album itself had been a success by all means.

Throughout the process, Vernon had unfortunately not made much progress with you. Things seemed to be a bit more peaceful now that he had decided to leave you alone, but you never once tried to seek him out, so he assumed that this was the end of it. You were happy to ignore him and keep him out of your life, and as much as Vernon wad pained by it, he felt too remorseful by his previous actions to try and bother you anymore.

Vernon was happy to spend time with you whenever studio sessions came up. As one of the main producers of the company, you had been thoroughly involved in the album, which meant that you spent a grand majority of your time in the studio with Vernon and the rest of the band. Though you would rarely engage with him directly, you didn't outwardly ignore him. You remained professional and respectful towards him. He wasn't sure if that was better or worse.

After the grueling process of finishing up the album and releasing it, there was a small lull in the group's timeline. The album did amazingly well, specially with all the promo your label did for them. A tour had even been announced for later in the year, but for now things were quiet. The fruits of their labor were paying off and now everyone got a bit of time to rest before preparations for tour began.

Despite being done with work for a few weeks before getting to rehearsals for tour, Vernon still liked to come around the company and play around with the studios the label had available for their artists. He liked to mess around and try to experiment with new stuff to develop his skills. During the album-making period, he had observed you intently, learning from you without your knowledge.

Today was one of the many times in which Vernon had decided to come around the studios, in search of the one his group used throughout the process of making their album.

That was when he noticed the half-closed door, with the soft strumming of a guitar coming from the inside. He was about to turn around and leave, assuming that someone else had taken up that studio for a bit, but then he heard a melodious voice accompanying the guitar in perfect harmony. It was you.

Even during the recording process, Vernon was yet to hear you sing or play any music. The demos were usually recorded by Jihoon, even when you had vast participation in them. The most he had heard your voice during that time had been when you'd direct the members on how to enunciate a line or two – and even then, Vernon felt enamored. Now here Vernon was, peeking from the small opening of the door as he witnessed you sing what seemed to be an original song.

Your back was facing him as you sat on the floor, simply facing the wall in front of you. Your voice was low, as was your strumming. It was likely you didn't want anyone to hear you. Almost as if you were hiding your skill, not wanting anyone to be aware of it.

Vernon couldn't help but think that this was the consequence of his actions. Did you think you weren't made to perform anymore? Not even in private? Had his betrayal caused this in you? The thought made him sick, knowing how much you loved music.

His thoughts were promptly interrupted by a sudden halt in your playing, hearing your voice speak up.

"I know you're there, Vernon," you said without even needing to turn around to face him.

"I- How did you-"

You began to get up, putting your guitar away, "I heard the door squeak a bit, and you're the only person who would be interested enough in hearing me play to stay and watch."

He knew you hadn't meant it in a self-deprecating way, but the thought of you believing that there wasn't a crowd of people who'd die to hear you perform felt like a punch in the gut.

"You still sound amazing. You got even better, somehow."

"Vernon, stop. You don't have to-"

"Please. Let me at least compliment you. I mean it. You're amazing. It's a huge disservice to the world that you're not out there performing your own music," he chuckled humorlessly by the end, attempting to appeal to you somehow.

Surprisingly to him, you chuckled back in a similar manner, choosing to recline against one of the tables in the room rather than leave now that Vernon was speaking to you – something you'd usually do if you were ever in a room alone with him.

"I've never been much of a soloist. You know that."

Taking a leap, Vernon chose to lean against the table too, taking a seat close to you.

"I'm sure people would be lining up for a chance to work with you, c'mon."

"Not, you, though. Right?"

He groaned, throwing his head back in frustration, "Listen ..."

"I'm kidding, Vernon, relax."

That surprised him. Maybe the time had allowed you to feel comfortable enough to tease Vernon about it. Fuck. You were speaking to him. That in itself was more progress than he'd had in years.

Usually, he would've responded with a joke back, but he decided to drive his point home instead.

"I'd kill for you to even consider playing with me again."

Your mood visibly shifted at that, squirming a bit and looking down at his words.

"Yeah, I'm sure."

This time your sarcasm didn't deter him. He had an opening. You were talking to him, after months of only doing polite small talk with him whenever you were forced to. Maybe it was time he was a bit stern too.

Standing up, he stood directly in front of you, towering over you a bit more than usual since you were leaning against the table.

"Listen. I know I hurt you. I know I did the worst thing I could've done to the person I loved most, okay? I think about it every day. I thought about it every single day after you cut me out of your life – which you had every right to do," he winced at the thought, "Seeing you again, knowing you made it big and that you're still making music made me so glad. So glad that even though I wasn't ever going to be part of your journey anymore, you still had music by your side. I ... I wish I had done things differently. I wish I hadn't acted so stupidly and been so easy to convince to leave you behind just for a taste of success. I deserve every bit of your hate for it, but- fuck ... but I will always keep doing everything I can to see if maybe one day you might forgive me."

"Vernon, I-"

"Wait, I'm not done," he interrupted you with a finger in the air, "I tried looking for you, you know? After you disappeared, I tried to get you back somehow. When we got dropped from the label just a few months later, I tried to find you, but you were nowhere. I wanted you back from the moment I made that stupid decision. I'd do anything for you to be up there with us on that tour, for your name to be on that album cover. Somehow we ended up making music together again, just with all this baggage in between."

"Vernon."

"What? I- Honestly I don't know what you could say to all my word vomit. I already know you hate me. Nothing I do will ever change it," he looked down with a sad look on his face.

"I don't ... I don't hate you."

His head snapped up to look at you.

"You- What?"

"I don't hate you," you repeated, "I don't think I ever did. I never left music completely, I just ... I felt so disposable. I didn't want to work with anyone who wasn't you, and you saw me as a replaceable asset. I didn't even feel like your friend at that point. I mean, it was so easy for Chan to go from second guitar to lead and just completely erase my existence from the band ... Erase it from your life."

"N-no. You have it all wrong," he got closer to you, grabbing onto your shoulders to make you look at him, "Nothing was ever the same. That's why it all failed. I couldn't function without you."

"Hah," your eyes wandered away from his in an avoidant manner, "I would've killed to hear that from you back then."

You took a breath, appearing to ponder whether or not to say your next statement, ultimately deciding on the former.

"I used to like you so much back then. Did you know?," you laughed at yourself, "It was, uh, one of the reasons why I left. I felt like I got rejected in every way. As a friend, as a bandmate, as ... as the girl who liked you."

Fuck.

It had been worse for you than Vernon ever imagined.

The same way he felt dejected at your disappearance, having been practically in love with you at the time, you must've felt that pain a hundred times over. The guy you liked threw you away so easily, of course you were going to assume Vernon would never return your feelings under those circumstances.

But you had it all wrong. Oh, so horribly wrong.

If you had ever given Vernon any indication of you liking him, he would've dropped everything for you. He knew that he should've done so regardless, specially considering you were best friends, but he was extremely immature and dumb at the time. His mind did not reason what effect his actions would have. At the time, your claims about being okay with leaving the band as long as it was for the best of its future were completely taken at face value by Vernon. Never would he have guessed that you had just said that to appease to him just because you liked him.

His prolonged silence allowed you to speak up once again.

"I really did want to try and root for you after you signed that contract, but seeing the guy I was so head over heels for throw me aside so easily settled on my mind after a few days. I realized there was no point either way. We would never be bandmates again, and you would never like me back."

"I didn't- I ... I had no idea. Fuck," he breathed a heavy breath, furrowing his eyebrows, "I was so in love with you. I'm ... I'm so incredibly in love with you."

He knew he fucked up in saying it, specially going by the shocked expression on your face. Your eyes were wide and your mouth agape.

"I'm sorry. Fuck, I'm so sorry. I know this isn't what you want to hear. I- I shouldn't have said anything, but I can't help myself anymore. I've loved you for years. I've been miserable thinking about how badly you hate me when you haven't left my mind for a single day. I love you. I'm sorry, I just ... I love you."

"Vernon ..."

He threw his hands up in frustration, "Don't. Fuck, I already know what you're going to say, just ... just don't-"

"Vernon, shut up!", you grabbed onto his head, making him lower himself down to you a bit and look into your eyes.

Vernon wasn't quite sure what your original plan was, but he saw you open and close your mouth a few times to speak, ultimately giving up to do something that would break Vernon's mind for the upcoming future.

Your lips against his own was something he thought of an embarrassing amount of times during his teens (and even now during his 20's), but it was always something he was certain would never happen. He had never actually planned for what he would do if you ever actually granted his wish. And so he remained limp against you for a few moments too long, making you pull away at the lack of reciprocation.

This was something he just couldn't have. In no world could he ever allow you to ever feel like he didn't want you. Never again. Before you could fully pull away, his arms wrapped around your waist, bringing you to your tip toes so that he could kiss you properly. When your feet flattened on the ground, his lips chased after yours, leaning down to keep himself connected to you.

The kiss was soft and delicate. There were some breathy sighs that were making Vernon's head feel fuzzy, but the kiss was innocent otherwise.

Or at least that was how it started.

Vernon wasn't sure who licked their way into the other's mouth first, but that bit of information didn't matter too much. What mattered was that gorgeous moan you let out when his tongue suckled on yours. What mattered was the way you let your body become limp against his touch, letting him back you up against the table and sit you on it. What mattered were your hands pulling at his hair in sheer desperation for more.

You weren't the only culprit, though. Vernon was equally, if not more, desperate for you. His mind and his body were in a battle, with one wanting to pull away and discuss what your current feelings for him where, and the other fighting the urge to flip you around and bend you over the table.

Thankfully, you made the decision for him.

Your hands snuck under his shirt, delicate fingers gracing the skin of his stomach before allowing your hands to freely feel up his abs and chest. Shuddering, he became lightheaded at the simple contact, having been in such constant want for your touch all these years that even the simplest of contact had him losing his sanity. Unlike you, his hands were not as daring as yours in fear of scaring you away somehow. They remained rubbing your clothed waist and hips, far too shy to do what they really yearned to.

Images flashed in his head of every nasty thing he wanted to do to you. Every single night in which you'd somehow invade his mind with a fog of lust came running back, a myriad of ideas making it all the harder to hold back. He wanted you to have control. As hard as it was to just sit there and will his already prominent boner into staying still, Vernon could not act on any desire. You had to be the one to initiate it.

And thank fucking god you did.

Within some short moments, your hands threw off Vernon's shirt, pulling him closer to you as you became even more shameless in how you felt him up. Seeing his hands remain stagnant on your waist, you disconnected his lips, staring into his own with a blissed out look on your face.

Fuck.

You were already fucked up. Your eyes had nothing but lust in them. They had a hard time not making their way to his lips, which were still dangerously close to your own. He couldn't blame you. Despite being out of breath from kissing all this time, his own lips were already aching to encompass your own again.

Before he could kiss you again with a petulant whine, your hands guided his own to your clothed breasts, pressing them up against his palms with a delicious little whine that made Vernon press his cock against the table under you.

"Touch me? Feel me up? Fuck ... want your hands all over me," you breathed between sensual licks at his open mouth.

Fuck.

Oh, fuck.

How was he supposed to do this?

You sounded so pretty for him ... so horny and needy and just so fucking desperate for him.

You were the prettiest fucking thing he had ever seen – and you were begging for Vernon to feel you up? You were already begging and he hadn't even had the chance to actually touch you yet? Vernon had no idea how he was going to survive you, but he'd just have to will his body into doing so.

He didn't need any further instruction, his hands immediately following the task of rubbing and squeezing at every inch of skin. Every clothed curve was victim to his grabby hands, touching you and pressing you up against him like he'd die if he didn't. Your breathy little moans at his touch only made him feel like even more of a depraved animal.

You kissed and kissed and kissed. It was the nastiest mess of tongues and saliva, but Vernon couldn't help but feel extremely turned on by it. You were so ... so fucking desperate for him. Shameless in your actions, you licked and sucked at his tongue, holding his jaw in place so you could do as you pleased with his tongue. And when he couldn't match your pace due to how foggy his mind was? You stopped him, breathing against his lips that you'd show him how you liked to be kissed just before licking sensually into his mouth yet again.

Having been far too into the kiss, Vernon didn't even notice when you started undoing his belt, hands teasing his cock occasionally by gracing it through his pants and immediately coming back up when his hips tried to chase your touch.

"Baby ... Need you so bad," you moaned at him after a while.

'Baby'? He was 'baby' now?

Vernon couldn't even take a minute to process the lustful voice in which you had called him baby before his poor, weak, lust-ridden brain got distracted by you pulling your own shirt off.

It was almost comical the way in which Vernon froze at the sight. The two gorgeous mounds staring at him, pretty bralette encompassing them as you grabbed his hands and put them on your tits, begging him to touch you there. And Vernon wasn't an idiot. He touched you to his heart's contentment, groaning against your mouth every time you'd arch your back and press your chest up against his hands even more.

You were an entirely different version from the one he'd always known. You were so needy and soft and sensitive, completely unlike the stubborn and cold side of you you had shown him these past months. But Vernon wasn't about to complain when he had you so pliant for him, so whiny as you pleaded for him to touch you more.

His hands tugged and pinched at your nipples, lips swallowing every single cry of pleasure you let out. Your own hands scratched at his chest, with harsher marks being left behind every time he pinched at your tits relatively hard.

Growing easily frustrated, you separated his hands from your breasts, throwing off your bra before beginning to grind against him, encouraging him to push up his hips against your own.

Vernon was already painfully hard at just the privilege of feeling you up, so he was somewhat scared that he might end up cumming in his pants if you kept this up for so long. All it took was one single bump of your cunt against his cock for him to throw that concern aside and grind into your awaiting cunt as the two of you continued to kiss.

Breathless, he pulled away, finally getting to have a view of your nude breasts. That's when he lost control of himself.

He groaned and moaned and made every inhumane noise you could think of as he made love to your tits with his tongue. Never had he ever put so much dedication into anything as he did into making out with your tits. And fuck was it worth it. Your hips sped up against his own, hands burying in his hair as you pressed his head against your tit and cried his name in the prettiest of sighs.

There was no way in hell Vernon was going to last. He needed a saving grace.

Mustering all his willpower, Vernon disconnected himself from you completely, grabbing your hand and walking you over to the couch in the studio. On his way there, he kicked off his already loose pants and threw off his shoes. His original plan was to lay you down on it, crawl over you as he kissed every inch of your body and then worship his way into fucking you missionary, – so he could see and kiss you all throughout, just in the way he always imagined – but you stopped him in his tracks.

Pushing him onto the couch, you sat him down before shuffling your sweats off and straddling him, putting your hands on his shoulders.

"I wanna ride you. Can I?", you asked, getting straight to the point.

"You- you wanna .."

"I've been thinking about this since high school. And ... you kinda owe me, you know, after kicking me out of my own band," you joked.

"If letting you ride me is payback, then I take it back. I regret nothing," this granted him a frown and a slap on his chest, but he took it as a champ, enjoying the familiar banter he once shared with you.

Placing his large hands on your hips, he somehow got you even closer to him, "Ride me? Hmm, baby?", he kissed up your neck, taking advantage of the clear desire he knew you felt for him.

"I, ah ... Nonnie ... Please. Want your cock, it's so big," you sighed, neck tilting so he could have more space to kiss.

"Gotta prep you first, baby."

You shook your head, huffing, "'m already so wet, Nonnie. Wanna feel?"

With no warning, you snuck your hand under the tiny little excuse for panties you were wearing, gathering some tasty nectar for him to taste. He let out a gruttal groan at your taste, feeling lightheaded at the thought of someday having the privilege to eat your cunt until you begged and sobbed for him to stop.

But that would come some other day. Now, he needed to sit you down on his cock before he lost his mind. If you thought you were wet enough, and you were desperate enough to beg for him repeatedly, then who was he to deny you?

Helping you awkwardly remove your panties while he shoved his boxers down as much as he could while sitting, he helped you lift yourself up a bit to line him up, throwing his head back when you instead chose to drag his tip up and down your cunt.

"Baby ... If you don't sit on me, I'm going to fucking cum before I even get to feel you, and I don't wanna embarrass myself like that. So, please let me have it," he begged for a change, eyes squeezed shut as he attempted to make his body hold back as much as possible.

Taking pity on him (or likely just equally as horny), you finally sat down on him, showing very small signs of struggle at his size.

"F-fuck ... Nonnie, it's so big, it's so- Oh ... fuck."

"Nonnie! Feels so good ... Oh, it's so good, Nonnie."

"Baby, need more ... Need you to fuck me. Please? Cock's so fucking good."

"Want it in my mouth, Nonnie. It's so thick n so fucking big. Looks so, fuck, so delicious. Wanna choke on it so bad ..."

These were only some of the filthy expletives you cried out as you bounced on his cock like a depraved girl. You desire for him alone was enough to make Vernon want to give up and dedicate his body to your pleasure, knowing that your gorgeous body would always give him the same, if not more, pleasure in return.

It got so bad for him that at some point, he simply couldn't hold back anymore, his feet settling firmly on the ground before tightening his grip on your hips and beginning to bounce you up and down his cock while his hips canted up with inmensurable speed.

"Cunt's so tight, baby. Never letting you go again. 's all for me, right? Get to have you every day now," he mumbled against your chest, lips chasing your tits every now and then.

"Y-yes, Nonnie. All for you! Missed you so much, Nonnie. Thought of you every day," you hiccuped, back arching to give him better access to your tits, "I was so heartbroken over you ... Never letting you go now. You're mine. Right, Nonnie?"

He nodded and cried at your words, heartbroken just at the thought of your own heartbreak. He had to remind himself that none of that mattered anymore. Now he finally had you. The dam had finally broken and allowed the two of you to end your prolonged animosity and give you a chance to finally be his. Just how he had been yours all these years.

Your love making (if you could even call it that considering the animalistic nature of it) could only last so long before Vernon finally burst, which meant he had to take matters into his own hands and make sure you found your end with him. Reaching between you, his hand searched for your clit, finding it in only a few seconds. Disconnecting his head from your chest, he went back to kissing your neck, reaching your ear so he could talk you through your orgasm.

"Need you to cum for me, okay, baby? Love you so much ... Need to cum together, pretty, yeah?",

"L-love you! So much, Nonnie ... Never stopped."

Those were the last words you managed to let out before your orgasm took over you, whining the prettiest cries Vernon had ever heard. The tightening of your cunt finally allowed Vernon to let go, joining you in your high as neither of your hips halted their movements.

Holding you all throughout, Vernon had never felt as close to anyone else as he did to you in this moment. If you needed to hate him in order to protect yourself from his betrayal, then Vernon fully accepted it. No part of him blamed you for keeping him at an arm's length at all times. Specially if this was the final outcome. Now that he finally had you, he didn't care what journey he had to live through to get here. All he cared about was the gorgeous girl of his dreams crying in his arms as pleasure overtook her.

Your orgasms had been so incredibly intense that you needed some moments to catch your breaths before speaking up. That, and all the emotions that must've been going through your minds.

Holding each other despite the silence, you stayed like that for a few minutes, simply nuzzling against each other as a demonstration of love for one another. Vernon's mind still couldn't believe the reciprocation of your feelings. His heart was still beating far too loud under your touch, but he felt at ease.

"I really do love you," he spoke against your neck, "And I'll never stop regretting what I did to you."

You created a small distance between you to look at him, caressing his cheek in your hand as you spoke.

"I'll never be okay with what you did, but I love you. You were young, and you made a mistake. I can't stand hating you anymore."

He smiled, turning his head to kiss the palm you had against his cheek.

"You can hate me, as long as you love me too," he said. He knew it made no sense, but he also knew you understood.

"I love you," you said again with a smile.

"I love you."

to read short 2.3k word continuation you can go join my monthly tier on kofi or patreon!

content: smut, afab reader, comfort sex, face riding, penetrative sex, etc.

wc: 714 (teaser); 2379 (full drabble)

sneak peak:

"Isn't it unprofessional for you to ask an ex member to join the band again just cause you're sleeping together?", asked Chan as he tuned his guitar absentmindedly.

"For the last time, that's not why I'm asking her. I've wanted her back for years, you guys know this. I'm just rectifying a mistake."

You giggled from your seat on the couch, enjoying that the guys still gave Vernon a hard time for what he had done all those years back.

The news of your relationship had come as a surprise only to a few people. Most of your friends had seen it coming from miles. The sexual tension was just too high, or at least that's what Jeonghan had said when you first broke the news, Seungkwan nodding in agreement.

After that day in the studio, you and Vernon entered an annoyingly disgusting honeymoon phase. Unfortunately for everyone else, this phase seemed to be endless. Two months in, and you were still attached to the hip, unable to keep your hands or eyes away from each other.

Your newfound revelation of love for Vernon also brought back up old dynamics between the two of you. With his encouragement, you began occasionally playing with the guys, sometimes joining in as second guitar on stage, standing at the back, right next to Vernon and his drums. Your relationship was a point of conversation for fans, but you still kept it private among the people in the company.

Currently, Vernon had made the executive decision that he wanted you to officially be featured in a remixed version of one of their most successful songs from their debut album. The plan had already been there, but Vernon's suggestion of having you on the track rather than anyone else had surprised some people at the company, especially when they found out you agreed.

Vernon had been incredibly busy all week, leaving this as the first time he'd been able to see all of you together to briefly discuss the future plans for the track. His plan was to make a quick stop and then finally rest in your arms back at your apartment.

"Anyways, you should never forget that she was lead guitar before you ever were. We could always just send you to the back again," interrupted Seungkwan, giving Chan an unserious yet pointed look.

Chan raised his hands in defense, "Hey! I'm not the one who kicked her out!"

Groaning, Vernon walked over to you and buried his face in your neck, tired features clear in his face as he wrapped his arms around your waist, "Make them stop. Please."

Giggling again, you opted for a better option, taking the clearly tired boy by the hand and leaving the studio, bidding your goodbyes to the guys.

You had only stopped by to say hi to your friends while on your way to your apartment, knowing Vernon was tired from a long day of recording for various other activities he had recently embarked in as a new face in the industry. They were already aware you'd be recording a song with them, but simply enjoyed giving Vernon a hard time. Maybe even more than you did.

On the ride home, Vernon had fallen asleep, absentmindedly cuddling against you on the back of the car. Vernon had naturally taken on the role of the main face of the group, which also came with endless work and promotions he sometimes had to do solo, just like today. You were more fortunate in that area, making most of your money off royalties and not needing to make public appearances at any point.

When you finally arrived home, you continued dragging Vernon along with you, who would only groan occasionally at the thought of even stepping foot into the elevator. Making it all the way to your suite had taken a while due to the size of the building, but when you made it, Vernon immediately threw off his shirt and stripped down to his boxers, letting himself fall face first into the bed, groaning at the mattress cushioning his fall.

You stared for a few moments, thinking of what you could do to help your tired boyfriend relax after a tiresome week of work. Then the idea suddenly came to you.

...

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ejundo · 11 months ago

Text

stoner | plug 𝙚𝙧𝙚𝙣 𝙟𝙖𝙚𝙜𝙚𝙧 𝙭 nerdy | stressed bottom 𝙢 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧 ✰. : @ejundo wc : 3.4k words.

★warnings:

drug use . feminization . seduction . against a wall . literally everywhere but a bed ? . . . opposites attract . begging . deepthroating? charac receiving | i still hate warning | stuff till this day. dub con maybe? yer jus stoned asf and fucking eren. cheating sorta . caught . use of you/your — amab anatomy

you weren't one to smoke weed as much. . . Every once in awhile you had smoked and used the container that was left on the corner of your desk, but it wasn't as consistent as you had only smoked pot whenever you were desperate enough.. it had helped with your stress— and you not using your container of wax.. meant you had a lot.

that wasn't until now. . . looking at the empty container. a groan left your lips as you quickly texted your friend— who also. didn't have any wax. she had instead given you the information to her plug located in the same dormitory as you, and with a sigh you picked yourself up and headed to the exit of your dorm.

you fist curled up into a ball as you knocked gently onto the door, waiting for an answer.

and a man with brown hair tied up into a manbun stared menacingly down at you. Blinking and jumping in surprise at the sudden action, even if it was suspected.. ー you were told to be a jumpy person.

'what?' his deep voice grumbling. with a blink you opened and closed your mouth like a fish. . . he was extremely menacing even without trying. taking a deep breath in you managed to at least mutter some words.

". . . ehm. . . do you have any wax ? or just ー any weed in general. . i have the money. " the sentence was barely coherent, barely over a whisper. it was a surprise that eren even managed to hear you.

eren's gaze shifted back to you, his eyebrows raising in mild surprise. He leaned against the doorframe, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "well, well, well, isn't that a surprise." He raised his eyebrows, his voice low. "someone as little as you, smoking weed. nothing i woulda expected" his eyes traveled up and down your figure, observing the way you looked.

"You're lucky I've got some left," he said, his voice filled with a teasing undertone. "tell me, why do you need it? tryna relax, or is there something else that's got you all wound up hm??" He raised an eyebrow, boredom in his eyes. "this isn't the first time i've ever smoked weed. . or justー smoked pot in general . . !" with a soft and gentle voice you seemed to get your point across.

staring at you with a look of amusement eren eyed you curious. 'whatever you say lil bro.' eren shrugged before opening his door wide enough for you to slip into. slipping under his raised arm , you observed the new area. it had reeked of weed and drugs and . . it was. . clear that he was previously trying to hotbox the area.

compared to your clean, and more. . . organized dorm. tapestries and dark curtains covered the window from allowing any natural light to enter the adobe. the only light were the led lights that emitted a red color. . . some having a white color to give a more clear vision other then just. . red.

'you have a nice place. eren.' looking down at you, he nodded. clearly not one to talk. letting out a sigh, you stood awkwardly as you awaited for eren to grab what you needed, preparing the money in hand. 'its 25 for 5 grams.' he rolled the small container in his hands. . his. nice , veiny large hands. maybe . . just one paper cut?ー okay that's enough. snapping out of your thoughts. you looked up at him and panickedm he stared at you with a cold and blank expression. 'sorry. . here.' you mumbled, handing him the dollars in exchange for the container.

bowing your head, as a thanks a random voice was heard from your right. averting your gaze over to the voice, it was a lady . . with long jet black hair. ー and in just a tank top and undergarments. quickly turning your gaze away you pursed your lips together in a thin line. as it was pretty random.. for some chick to show up half naked.

'eren. . mmm who is that?' eren also seemed to turn his gaze over. 'him? he's another customer doll.' doll.. it came out of his mouth so smooth. you couldn't help it but cough awkwardly. 'ahm. . . is it okay if i have your socials? incase. . i need more?' saying in a quiet voice, he turned his attention back over to you.

'hhh. yeah, lemme jus' grab my phone real quick.' with a low tone, he reached over to a nearby counter and pulled out what you assumed was his phone. the phone screen light emitting onto his face, showing his features more. . better. it seemed as if time had slowed down . . his gaze fixated on the screen as he opened up a random app.

reading the username as he showed it to you, you nodded your head and input the name into the search bar. quickly pressing the follow button. 'thank you! ♡' you said in a cheerful voice. despite it not being intentional. 'ay , nerdy boy. . c'mere ' as you were about to take you leave, the feminine voice called out. '. .hmm? uh- yes?' you tilted your head, her gaze observing you tiredly, she then raised an eyebrow with a smile as if she had remembered who you were ' yer that nerdy boy that armin and mikasa hang out with yah?' with a nod in your head. she slammed her fist into her open one, "hah! i knew it, no wonder you looked so familiar. . nice ta meet you bro, im eren's girlfriend."

so. . you were gawking over a taken man? shame shame shame ! ! who would know though ? . exactly. you made an o shape with your mouth ' i see . . it's nice to meet you! ehm, mikasa was actually the one who had recommended me to eren,,'

well , at least you two got along correct ? uh. erens girlfriend and you. eren, on the other hand just stood there. watching between you two as you guys acted as if he wasn't there. 'can you get out?' he said at random. blinking rapidly you realized you were overstaying your welcome. . with a shocked expression you bowed multiple of times 'sorry ー ! ! ' quickly rushing out of the apartment in a hurry..

it didn't take long for eren's girlfriend to quickly grow fond of you, she immediately took a liking to you. . and you assumed it was just so you could help her with her finals . . it was no surprise that by the end of your finals week. that the container that her dear ol' boyfriend gave you. . was empty. even despite it being new!

it was the amount of stress she had put on you . whether it would be - begging you to help her cheat on the exams. but you denied every time, and helped her tutor. that wasn't enough for her though as she would literally try flirting with you. it seemed as if she didn't get that you were not straight . .

'y/n ! ! ~ ehhmm . . professor wasn't clear on the instructions for this project . . can you perhaps tell me? what it was? . . or better yet gimme tha answers hmm?' she stuck out her chest to show off more skin then needed. . with a look of sheer disgust you masked it with a smile.

mentally groaning as you practically forced yourself to not bash this textbook into her face. 'only if you manage to let eren give me a 50 percent discount. i helped you for . . the past 3 weeks.' she grinned from ear to ear as you said that. practically launching herself at you.

you seriously tried to contain yourself from jumping out the window right then and there. . .

'here let me lend you my computer- and you can do the assignment m'kay?' she caressed your neck, and with a raising hand you slapped her hand away.

'i don't like how you caress me, and. . . shove your tits in my face while you have a boyfriend.' a hint of disgust laced behind your voice, a blank expression displayed in an attempt to at least give her a hint. and she ignored it. how surprising. . not

'look darling, he wouldn't know. . i mean- you aren't bad looking. and your voice. is so attractive. . i just want to kiss - y-' you quickly moved out of her grasp by standing up. her face almost landing on the seat before she quickly caught herself.

she whined before supporting herself on her arms. 'hmph ! ! i'll make you fall in love with me one day . . ' she grumbled with a . . disgusting frown. her eyebrows furrowed while she crossed her arms.

doing as you said, your fingers typed lightly against the keyboard of her macbook. eyes glued to the screen, while you wore glasses to protect your eyes from the horrifying blue light. she really owed you big time.. a sigh emitted from your lips. fingers grazing across the mouse pad as you click send to the designated professor.

looking as if you had crawled out of a grave, a still surprisingly gentle knock made its way onto eren's door once more. waiting for a good . . five minutes the tall man had came into your view looking down upon you as you held the silver macbook in your hands. ' your girlfriend . . needs her macbook back.' he raised an eyebrow, ' shes not my girlfriend anymore.'

' . . . what.' you furrowed your eyebrows and groaned angrily. barging into the room uninvited, 'she told me she would give me a discount if i did her entire work. . and i did so. and now i am here sad and lonely with a macbook, and no more wax!' eren only looked down at you. his usual blank stoic face reading you as you ranted on and on.

'hell! she even made me suffer by shoving her tits in my FACE!? not literally . . but YOU KNOW ! ' raising an eyebrow. he clicked his tongue purposely avoiding the her trying to kiss and rub all up on you . . just to avoid any. pressure on the other.

your eyebags seemed more evident and noticeable as you ranted. but eren didn't seem to mind . . you just seemed more. attractive that way. the nerdy persona dropped as you complained, and especially the way your cute face scrunched up . . he just wondered how would it look like if he just fucked that look off your face. shaking his head he let out a sigh. his hand plopped right onto your head, making you let out a small grunt.

' was joking dude, and with that information - it seems like she might not be my girlfriend anymore' oh were you truly angry, not because of eren breaking up with her. you were always angry, every time.

with a groan, your eyes drooped, 'can i just have my gram. . i'll pay you.' eren looked you up and down. 'how about i roll you up a joint ah .. you ever tried that before? it helps a lot more then. . wax.' you didn't care at this point. dragging yourself to the nearest couch and plopping down on it.

eren had locked the door and shut the curtains, that were open and disappeared into what you assumed was his room. the led lights shining a bright vibrant red that covered the entire room. even the led lights that would have at least gave some natural white lighting was turned red. small footsteps heard as eren came back from the room. a roll evident and seen in his hand. ' sets the mood.'

you raised an eyebrow in confusion before he pointed to the l.e.d's a small oooh coming from you along with a nod. blinking slowly, you opened you mouth. and suddenly the joint was placed between your lips. ' . . smoke it like you usually would. nothing different.'

and doing as said, your body grew lighter after you exhaled the smoke into the sky. coughing heavily you held your chest, growing teary eyed before rubbing them away. ' shit ! . . ' a heavy low laugh coming from the taller man.

he made his way next to you sitting down next to you. ' wanna watch some tv?' he asked, and arm resting on the hedge of the cough behind you. ' uh yeah sure? do you have . . netflix? im tryna finish this one show. he would occasionally pass you the joint.

that helped you . . forget about her. and forget about every single thing that pissed you off. after that . . . you felt more relaxed . . and time flew by just . like . that .

it was hot

scorching

flaming !

blistering even ! !

and you weren't even outside . . it was probably the man who was sitting way to close to you his body heat emitting onto you. his gaze on your smaller form, when did he even get that close? . whatever . . with the roll in his hand. bringing it to ur lips. 'cmon. . take one more hit . '

did he mean to make it sound that? hot . . or seductive. you didn't know . . all u knew is that it made you tingle. wrapping your lips gently around the wrap, you gently sucked in inhaling the smoke. he pulled it away and he was. . . much more closer. exhaling it into his face, he didn't even seem bothered. a look of lust in his eyes as he eyed you like a piece of meat.

'y'know. . i didn't think a boy like you would make me feel a certain way. but here i am. . a desire to kiss you silly. ' you smiled before quickly pecking his surprisingly soft lips. 'jus' like that. . . ? ' a grin on his face. ' no, like this. ' and quickly he pulled your lips in for an enchanting kiss.

pulling away with half lidded eyes, you stared up at eren. . . maybe it was the led lights that made him look more attractive, or perhaps it was the desire and need for him. small strands stuck to his forehead while his hand slithered behind you, captivating you. enchanting you.

'ever gave head before doll?' eren whispered in your ear, his warm breath brushing against your ear. shaking your head. you sat up and looked at him. ' mm-mm. . ' he leaned back spreading his legs and letting his arms resting on top of the couch. ' first time for everything hm?' the bulge in his sweats seemed more noticeable. and the closer you looked it was extremely noticeable that he wasn't wearing any underwear.

with hesitated movements, your hand traced the bulge slowly rubbing on it. he was big and that was an understatement. he let out a low groan a chuckle following behind it. ' don't be scared . . . c'mon doll. ' he grinned, his large hand cupping your hands, slowly moving your hand with his slipping past the band of his sweats . . his hand wrapped around yours as you held his cock. the warm feeling new to your cold hands .

a small hum emitting from him as you stroked him, ‘fuck . .’ seeming to get the hang of it, his hand slowly slipped out of his own pants. his head thrown back as he enjoyed the pleasure. letting go you decided it was time to try something new . for you at least! his head slowly snapped back to you, a smirk displayed on his face as you got onto your knees. it had hurt staying there for a while but the blanket pulled along covered the hardwood floors.

discarding his pants you were now face to face with the leaking member that dripped pre cum. his hand travelled to your head rubbing it slowly ‘take your time doll.’ he mumbled with a low and seductive voice.

with a soft sigh, your tongue grazing along the head of his cock. lips closing in in them as you struggled to suck on it, the taste — salty yet savory. you savored the flavor, as it leaked onto your tongue.

with a pop your lips left the tip and your tongue slowly trailed down the member a saliva trail following behind. erens hand lifted your head in prder for the two of you to make eye contact. your lips stopped at a prominent vein, sucking on it as eren eyed your expression. a low chuckle coming from the other. ‘mmm. .’ a grin on his face while his hand caressed your scalp.

you and eren were now stripped of clothing. your face rested against the pillows of the couch, moans and whines leaving your lips as erens tongue lapped at your hole, everything was a blur your mind fuzzy and blank as you left his long tongue insert you. curling your toes your grip on the couch intensified.

his grasp on your ass kneaded your ass as he pulled away, observing the clean and wet hole. a grin on his face. 'think you're ready f'me doll . . .' he sat up, reaching downwards as he positioned himself between your open legs. gently pushing down he slowly inserted his cock inside. 'please . . be gentle! . . f-first time. .' you mumbled out, your head sideways against the pillow while your teary eyes stared at the brown haired man. he patted your cheek gently for reassurance. ' im not that cruel baby . ' he whispered, as he fully settled inside of you.

he waited until you were more used to his size. when you felt less tense is when he started moving at a slow pace. his hand tracing over your hot skin, in contrast to his cold hand. holding your waist as one hand traveled down slowly gripping one of your ass cheeks kneading it and spreading it as he watched him slipping in and out of you.

his member stretching you out, your whines , moans , and whines were music to his ears. ‘fnhhg!. . ist’mucherrhe!’ incoherent words slipping from you as he slowly started going at a faster pace. ‘ i know doll . be good f’me and take it well yeah? ‘ his hand snaking around your waist as he leaned foward, one hand gripping your leaking cock and the other toying and flicking your hardened nipple. slipping out of you, he slammed right back into you a moan ripping out of you repeating the process as your mind went blank.

moving at a animalistic pace, all that was heard was the consistent sound of skin slapping together and your bated and loud whimpers and moans. eren groans and moans barely audible due to yours . .

what surprised you most is at how many rounds the two of you had done. he would pin you against the wall while his cock slammed into you, your back arched and your ass stuck out. cum splattered on the wall and leaking out your ass as he fucked you over the coffee table, your legs held up to your head while he fucked into you. cum splattered in your stomach and a splash on the coffee table. his seed seeping out of you while he fucked you shamelessly on the ground. your cock rubbing on the ground while drool spilled out of your mouth and your tears stained your own cheeks.

your cum leaking onto the glistening floor, as his leaked out of your hole onto the ground. that was when the two of you reached your limit. heavy breathing could be heard from the two of you as he held you in his arms. your hole holding onto— nothing as it leaked heavily onto the ground.

eren wrapped his arms around you, but stopped as he heard the front door slam open. ‘eren baby!— waht the!…’ the familiar and aggravating voice burst through the doors. her figure still as she looked at the sight of the two of you naked, eren holding you in his arms. ‘. . . im breaking up with you?’ he said bluntly. her bag dropping to the ground as she blinked rapidly.

woops?

finally . . finished . . im dead ! ! save me ! 𖦹 ´ ᯅ ` 𖦹

but i kinda got lazy at the end . . wahwah the smut part kept confusing me and i was trying to make eren fuck yew guys silly and then — kabloom no!!!! my brain farted and decided to be lazy and rush it . . grr . .

#. ♡ ejundo writes !#x male reader #m reader #eren jaeger #eren yaeger #eren jaeger x male reader #eren x male reader #eren x m reader #mreader #malereader #male reader #xmreader #xmalereader #aot x male reader #stoner eren x male reader #nerdy male reader

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solxamber · 2 months ago

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Hii!! I hope you have a wonderful day/afternoon/evening/night (⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠)/ take your time in making this request lolll (this is romantic btw)

Pomefiore with a reader who's shut in/wallflower painter, like yeah— they can talk to people but they're too shy to actually approach someone (no one probably remembers their existence /j).. so they resort to this:

If they like someone, they'd paint them as a form of expression! If they paint someone endlessly, then that probably means they really like that specific person. And then suddenly, out of the blue— they just randomly have a big fat crush on this one person, like they were so blown away by how handsome he was, so they just started to paint them.. and then they got caught! (They're probably quaking because their crush might think it's weird for some random stranger to paint you!)

Hope you can understand my vision ☹️☹️

Pomefiore x Artist!Admirer!Reader

i see your vision and it's beautiful 🫡 i hope you like this <3

Vil Schoenheit:

You’ve always admired Vil from a distance, both intimidated and captivated by his beauty. Approaching him? Absolutely out of the question. You weren’t the type to strike up a conversation with someone so effortlessly elegant, so you resorted to your old fallback: painting.

You were finishing the delicate details of Vil’s eyes—those eyes, the ones that seemed to look straight through you even from the canvas—when you heard a voice that sent a shiver down your spine.

“You flatter me.”

Your brush froze mid-stroke. That voice was unmistakable, but there was no way… You slowly turned your head and nearly fell off your stool.

There, standing in your studio with an amused smile on his perfect face, was Vil himself.

“I… I…” Words failed you, your heart thudding wildly in your chest. You could feel your face heating up as his eyes scanned the room, taking in the multiple portraits of him. His lips curved into a smirk.

“I didn’t realize I had such a devoted admirer,” he remarked, his tone teasing but with a hint of something more—something warmer.

You scrambled to explain, feeling as though you’d been caught doing something terribly wrong. “It’s not—I wasn’t—” You swallowed hard, trying to find the right words. “I just… I really admire you, and painting is how I express that. I didn’t mean for it to be weird.”

Vil chuckled softly, stepping closer to inspect one of your paintings. “It’s not weird,” he said quietly, his voice carrying a gentler tone than you had expected. His eyes flicked over the details of the painting, and he smiled softly. “It’s quite beautiful, actually. You’ve captured me well.”

Your heart skipped a beat. Was Vil Schoenheit complimenting your work? You suddenly felt breathless, overwhelmed by the proximity of him and the unexpected praise.

“You think so?” you asked, barely above a whisper.

Vil’s eyes met yours, and he nodded. “Yes. But,” he added with a knowing smile, “beauty isn’t just about perfection. Don’t be afraid to explore the imperfections. They make things more… real.”

You blinked, completely mesmerized by the intensity in his gaze. For a moment, it felt like the two of you were the only people in the world. Vil reached out, brushing a stray lock of hair away from your face, and your breath hitched.

“Keep painting,” he said softly, his voice warm and encouraging. “You have a gift.”

You nodded, unable to form any coherent response. As Vil turned to leave, you couldn’t help but feel that maybe, just maybe, he saw more in you than you had ever realized. And that thought left you feeling both terrified and exhilarated.

Rook Hunt:

You had always thought Rook was like a walking masterpiece. Everything about him—the way he carried himself, the way he smiled, the way he moved—was simply captivating. Naturally, he became your muse.

You never thought you’d be caught, though. You had carefully set up your little studio in a secluded corner where no one usually ventured. But somehow, Rook had found you.

You were in the middle of adding the finishing touches to yet another portrait of him when you felt a presence behind you. Before you could react, you heard a soft laugh.

“Ah, mon cher, what a delightful surprise.”

You jumped, your brush clattering to the floor as you whipped around to see Rook standing there, his eyes gleaming with amusement. Your heart sank. How long had he been standing there? Had he seen all the paintings?

Your face flushed as you tried to find an excuse. “I-It’s not what it looks like!” you blurted out, but even you didn’t believe that.

Rook smiled at you, his eyes twinkling with mischief as he approached one of your canvases. “Oh, but it is,” he said, his voice low and teasing. “And I must say, I’m quite flattered.”

Your breath caught in your throat as he stood in front of one of your larger portraits of him, his fingers lightly tracing the edge of the frame. He turned to look at you, his expression softening. “You see me,” he murmured, his voice almost reverent.

You blinked, unsure how to respond. “I… I mean, I paint what I see,” you stammered, feeling utterly exposed.

Rook chuckled softly and took another step closer, his hand reaching out to gently lift your chin so that you were forced to meet his gaze. His touch was light, almost hesitant, but there was a tenderness in his eyes that made your heart race.

“And what you see,” he whispered, “is beautiful.”

Your breath hitched. He was close now—so close that you could feel the warmth radiating from him. His eyes locked onto yours, and for a moment, everything else seemed to fade away. The only thing that mattered was the connection between you and Rook, as if he had stepped out of the canvas and into your heart.

“I…” you started, but your voice faltered. What could you even say? That you had been painting him because you were hopelessly enamored with him? That every brushstroke was an attempt to understand the feelings you didn’t quite know how to express?

Rook smiled softly, his hand still resting under your chin. “You need not say anything,” he murmured. “I already understand.”

Before you could react, Rook pressed a light kiss to your forehead, his lips warm and soft against your skin. Your heart practically exploded in your chest, and when he pulled back, you were left staring at him in a daze.

“I look forward to seeing what else you create,” Rook said with a wink, before turning on his heel and exiting your studio, leaving you standing there, utterly flustered and hopelessly in love.

Epel Felmier:

You didn’t mean to develop feelings for Epel. Honestly, it just… happened. One minute, you were admiring how strong and determined he was, and the next, you couldn’t stop thinking about him. So naturally, you started painting him.

You had thought you were safe, tucked away in your quiet little studio, but apparently, Epel had other plans.

You were lost in your work, painting Epel in one of his rare moments of quiet—capturing the way his lilac eyes softened when he wasn’t putting on his usual tough act—when you heard his voice.

“Hey, is that me?”

Your heart nearly stopped. You spun around so fast you almost knocked over your easel. Epel was standing in the doorway, his arms crossed, his eyes narrowed at the canvas.

“W-what are you doing here?!” you stammered, trying to shield the painting from his view, but it was far too late.

Epel frowned, stepping closer to get a better look at your work. “Huh. You’ve been paintin’ me?”

You were utterly mortified. “I-I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to—I just…” You trailed off, completely at a loss for words.

To your surprise, Epel didn’t look angry. Instead, his frown softened into something more thoughtful. “You really think I’m worth paintin’?” he asked, his voice quieter than usual.

You blinked at him. “Of course I do,” you said softly. “You’re… you’re really handsome, Epel. And I wanted to capture that.”

Epel’s face turned pink, and he quickly looked away, rubbing the back of his neck. “Well, I ain’t never had anyone say that to me before,” he mumbled. “I guess I’m flattered.”

You felt your heart swell at his words, and you smiled shyly. “I’m glad.”

There was a moment of silence as Epel glanced at the painting again. “Y’know,” he said, his voice a little gruffer now, “you really did a good job. I actually look strong in this one.”

You couldn’t help but laugh softly. “That’s because you are strong, Epel.”

Epel’s blush deepened, and he muttered something under his breath. Then, in a rare moment of vulnerability, he looked up at you and smiled—a small, genuine smile that made your heart skip a beat.

“Thanks,” he said quietly. “Maybe you could show me how to paint sometime.”

You nodded, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. “I’d like that.”

Masterlist

#twst x reader #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst #vil x reader #vil schoenheit x reader #vil #vil schoenheit #rook x reader #rook hunt x reader #rook hunt #rook #epel x reader #epel felmier x reader #epel #epel felmier #pomefiore #pomefiore x reader

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revasserium · 3 months ago

Text

teach me, teach me

suo hayato; 2,587 words; nsfw, senpai-kink, college!suo, aged up characters, fem! reader, senpai/kouhai dynamic, piv sex, oral (fem receiving), fingering, mentions of birth control, simp!suo, internal cumshot, allusions to suo w/ a praise!kink, no "y/n", lapslock

summary: in which ur only a few months older than suo but he won’t stop calling you “senpai”

a/n: u cannot convince me that suo wouldn't lose his mind if u called him a "good boy".

“bet i could teach you a thing or two about girls.”

famous last words — so you think, later, pinned beneath suo, breathless, your fingers curling into your own palms, back arching as he slowly works two fingers in and out of you, his grin loping to one side.

“senpai… does that feel good? you have to tell me — teach me what feels good for you, hm?”

a broken whine works its way out the back of your throat as light fizzles at the edges of your vision. vaguely, you can feel your own hips kicking up as he twists his fingers, thumb circling your clit. if you were any more coherent, you might’ve wondered where he picked this up — the thought of suo casually watching porn for nothing more than pure academic interest doesn’t entirely escape the wild machinations of your mind.

“t-there —! ngh… please —”

“ah… right there? is that it, senpai?” there’s a bright, unassuming smile on his face, but you catch the dark glint that flashes behind his damnably long lashes. there’s a quickness to his breath that wasn’t there five minutes ago and god — has it only been five minutes?

“fuck — yes —” you keen, head tossing back into the pillows, the coil in your belly twisting fit to burst. your toes curl, your breath hitches, champagne sparklers flash behind your eyes.

and then —

“mm… senpai… you’re so wet…”

you peer up at him through damp lashes, your body still fizzling with the almost of your now rapidly fading orgasm.

“h-hayato —”

“hm? what is it? have i been doing something wrong?” his voice is level, innocent, even. you bite down on your bottom lip and swallow back the whine threatening to spill from your mouth.

“no, you’re —” your breath hitches as you feel him trail sticky fingers along the insides of your thighs before grinning and pillowing his cheek on your bent knee.

“i’m…?”

“y-you’re doing —” you swallow, watching as he slowly lowers himself down till he’s resting between your legs; you shiver at the heat of his breath on your pulsing clit, “good —”

“yeah? but… good isn’t good enough for me, senpai…” you catch a glimpse of the devious glint in his eyes a second before he dips down and licks a long strip along your cunt; you clench around nothing and moan.

it had started three weeks ago, when suo had overhead kotoha talking about your birthday. and maybe it was the fact that he’d never paused to think about it too hard, but he’d always just assumed that you were his age.

“— want for your birthday this year? it’s soon, right?”

“yeah — but i don’t wanna do anything big this year…” you’d pushed your half-finished omurice around your plate as suo, sitting three seats down from you, pauses and looks up.

“hmmm but it’s not every day that a girl turns 21! i heard in america — it’s a huge deal!”

suo had blinked, cocking his head, his mind spinning into overdrive as he does the math. outside, a light dusting of snow had fallen over the entire city, and beside him, sakura was complaining about getting stuck with “snow patrol”.

even as college students, the work of boufuurin never really ends.

when you get up to leave, suo smiles, “let us know if you need any help with your birthday!”

you turn, frowning slightly, “uhm — sure! i don’t know if i’ll need much help but…”

suo had felt something in his chest kick at the color rising in your cheeks; he’d wondered how pretty you might look blushing properly.

“well, it’s only natural for us kouhai to want to help out, right senpai?”

and he’d gotten his wish — your cheeks flaring the most gorgeous shade of pink as you bite down on your bottom lip. the thing in his chest thuds again, more insistently this time, and he tries not to pay too much attention to another kind of pressure, building just behind his navel as he smiles and watches you leave with hooded eyes.

now, with his mouth latched to your sopping cunt, suo can’t help but groan at the way your thighs quiver on either side of his face. he reaches up to lace his fingers between yours, soothing a thumb over your knuckles in what would be an innocent gesture, before he pulls your hand towards his hair.

“you don’t have to be so gentle with me, senpai — i can take it.”

he grins, licking his lips clean of your sticky juices, feeling a familiar tension coil inside his own belly as he watches you squirm, panting, your skirt hiked up, your panties still hanging around your one ankle, the creamy expanse of your thighs now dotted with tiny blossoming bruises, the evidence of his hungry mouth and diligent fingers.

“hayato…” you say his name like a prayer, and a part of him wonders if he’ll ever be the same after this. or, if it keeps on going like this, if you keep on staring up at him with those dark, watery eyes of yours, calling his name like it’s the only name you might ever want to say again — if you might just ruin him for every other girl out there.

“hm? what is it, senpai?” he tries, fruitlessly, to maintain his calm, to keep his composure. though he knows he’s fighting a losing war; he nearly breaks as he shifts and feels his straining cock skim along your leg.

you lick your lips, and just like that, he knows you have him; your hand hasn’t left his hair, but when you trail it down to cup his cheek, suo feels his mind going blissfully blank.

“ngh — stop teasing —” your voice is broken, in a way that has suo questioning his own sanity.

he lets out a shaky breath, “teasing? i’m just trying to treat you well, senpai —”

“i — i want you.”

“me? i’m right here…” he bends down over you, but he doesn’t expect you to arch up into him, to pull him down for a kiss that can only be called bruising, for your legs to wrap around his waist and pull him down hard enough for his clothed cock to rut against your slick pussy in a way that has him reeling.

“f-fuck —” he lets the word slip just as you reach down far enough to push at his belt.

“i w-want you — here —” you make your intentions plenty clear as you dig a finger passed the waistline of his loose-fitting pants.

suo pauses, his chest heaving, his single eye wide a bit unfocused. he licks his lips and swallows hard.

“are you — do you have something for —” he gestures vaguely towards where the two of you are so damnably close to being connected and you have the gall to sigh and roll your eyes.

“hayato,” you say, your voice firmer and steadier than he’d heard all afternoon, “there��s a thing called birth control.”

suo blinks, and then, he breaks into a soft fit of laughter, “ah… of course. should’ve known senpai would be so well prepared.”

“mm — actually, it’s a free service. the university covers it for anyone who wants to —”

suo groans as he dips down to bury his face in your neck, skimming his teeth along your collarbones.

“senpai… now who’s the one teasing?”

you let out a breathy laugh, “d-didn’t know you’d be so turned on b-by student health services —”

suo takes a deep breath, reveling in the milky smell of your skin, “no… i just love it when you try to stall.”

“s-stall?”

“mhm,” he pulls back, his smile at once devilish and indulgent.

“’m not stalling…”

“sure you are — you were so close —” he lets his voice sink into a deeper, smokier tone, his intonation caressing a lewder implication, so much so that you feel your pussy clench again, a flood of warmth slicking along your folds, “to telling me where exactly you wanted me.”

he ruts down against you and both of you groan out at the friction.

“w-why ask a q-question… you already know the a-answer to?” you say, arching up against him, fingers now threading through his hair, tugging on it just hard enough to make him hiss.

“because senpai — i wanna hear you say it.”

he trails his lips along your neck, sucking a dark, angry hickey into the junction of your shoulder even as you whine.

“fuck — hayato — want you inside me —”

“mm… that wasn’t so hard, now was it?”

he pulls back just far enough to mouth at your lips, groaning as he feels your hands fumbling at his belt; he reaches down to help you, shucking his pants and boxers in one and kicking them off his legs a second before your palm meets his throbbing cock.

“mphf — f*-fuck* —” he swears again as you shimmy yourself down, stroking his cock till its head is pushing at your entrance, “s-senpai —”

“hm?”

you run your thumb along his slit and he jerks forward, making a sound just between a groan and a whimper.

“a-ah…” he drops his head into your shoulder, if only to look down at where your hand is still wrapped around him, your thighs spread so tantalizingly wide, your body resting on the tangle of his sheets in this tiny college dorm.

“ha-hayato…” your free hand curls into his hair, pulling him down till his nose grazes yours; there’s a moment’s pause as you look up into his singular eye and he looks down into yours. like this, he can count each and every one of your individual eyelashes.

“are you gonna fuck me or not?” you ask, your voice nothing more than a puff of breath along his lips.

suo hisses, his vision flickering as his mind goes white with heat. he leans down to capture your lips with his, his hand coming up to curl around your wrists as he fucks down into you, groaning as he feels your cunt stretching out around him inch by inch by inch.

“s-senpai… so tight — “

“m-mngh — h-hayato —!”

he loses himself in the feeling of you, in your tightness, in the way he can feel you fluttering around him even as you scrabble at his back with loose, desperate fingers.

he groans, pulling back slightly just to fuck himself back into your heat. and like this, he can see the threads of your mind slowly coming undone until you’re keening, thrashing beneath him, begging and so, so close to incoherence.

“ha - hah — hayato — m-more — your cock —”

“s-senpai — you gotta tell me — what — you — want — remember?” he punctuates his words with harsh thrusts, reaching down to hoist your legs over his shoulders, pressing you in half as he fucks down into you.

the schlick of his cock ramming into you, the wet slap of skin on skin, the high-pitched squeak you make every time he feels his cock bottoming out inside you, nudging against the one particular spot that has you jerking away from him —

“w-want you t-to cum —” you’re a babbling mess beneath him now, your eyes squeezing shut, your body soft and pliant as he manipulates you into a better position.

“a-ah — senpai — you’re not b-being fair —” suo pants, digging his fingers into your thighs as he folds you nearly in half, your knees almost kissing your shoulders as you keen, eyes rolling back into your head at the slight shift in angle as he continues to pound into you.

the walls of the tiny dorm room reverberate with the sound of your desperate cries, and suo spares a moment to wonder if he might get reported for this.

“wanna — wanna feel you c-cum —” your voice lilts up as he lets out another wanton groan, leaning down to mouth at your exposed tits, bouncing with the force of his thrusts. he grunts as he tugs your shirts open wider, popping off one of your buttons in the process.

“senpai — senpai — t-tell me — am — do i feel good?” he doesn’t mean to sound so desperate, but he hears the imploring edge to his voice as you keen, nodding fervently, tugging at his hair, your expression fucked out, your eyes so dazed.

“so g-good — hayato — please, wanna feel you cum — wanna be full —”

and that’s all it takes for the coil in his stomach to twist and burst. he ruts forward, clamping down on his lips as he feel his orgasm ram into him with the force and speed of a runaway train. a second later, he feels you clench down around him, your walls fluttering as you hit your own climax, and vaguely, he finds himself thankful that at least he’d made you cum too.

he fights not to collapse on top of you, rolling to one side, his arm looping around your waist to pull you into him.

he takes a deep breath, and then another, trying to gather himself. you roll onto him, squeaking as you feel his softening cock threaten to slip out of you, but a second later, you’re perched over his hips, your thighs straddling his sides.

“mm… still not satisfied, senpai?” he asks, a bit breathless, his chest heaving, his bangs sticking to his forehead as he stares lovingly up at the shape of you, your hands steadying yourself on his shoulders.

“i am…” you say, grinning lazily down at him as you slowly lay down, pressing your cheek to his chest, “just… like the feeling of you inside me.”

suo bites back a thick moan as he feels his dick kick, even after all that, the way you say those words so casually has him reaching up to tug at your hair.

“you… really weren’t kidding when you said you’d teach me a thing or two, hm?”

you giggle, pillowing your chin on his chest as you stare up at him.

“dunno what you mean.”

he scoffs, brushing a few strands of hair from your forehead, “it’s not nice to tease…”

you lick your lips; suo gasps as he feels you squeeze down around him, his sensitive cock hardening again despite himself.

“like i said,” you trace an idle finger up the length of his neck before pushing yourself back up to swirl your hips around his now rapidly hardening cock, “i don’t know what you mean — i think you’re gonna have to be a bit more specific.”

suo lets a whine snake out from inside his throat, dropping his head back into the sweat-soaked sheets, his palms coming to rest on the round of your hips.

“sen-senpai… go easy on me… please?”

“not a chance,” you say, “now be a good boy and take it.”

suo moans, long and loud and unabashed. your voice rings out in his head like a curse or an incantation and he feels his body go rigid at your words — good boy.

and it’s all he can do to keep from cumming on the spot.

---

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ninguitar · 15 days ago

Text

SUGAR TALKING, 𓈒𓈒 ningning as ur gf with a twist.

pairing. ning yizhuo x f!r genre. fluff wc. 900+ notes. ningning ver of this fic as per request !! ( MASTERLIST. )

now playing ⋆ sweet by cigarettes after sex

AMIDST YOUR LONG SCHEDULE FOR THE DAY was a box shaded in blue highlighter on your calendar, marking "TIME TO CALL NINGNING."

to balance your guys' relationship and one-another's respective responsibilities and duties, the two of you arranged specific times each week to call each other—to ensure that you two wouldn't miss each other too much while she was away.

and as much as ningning would tell you they were sufficient enough, both of you knew she was evidently lying. the chinese girl couldn't help but miss you, barely able to think of anything coherent without you popping up in her head.

plopping onto your bed, you're met with a black screen, the call between the two of you successfully connecting. confusion litters your face, as you stare at your reflection, waiting for ningning.

while it was still the afternoon for you, it was midnight for the chinese girl, and as much as you didn't wanna call so late for the girl—who had promotions and concerts early in the morning—she insisted, wanting to make it comfortable and easier for you.

"hello?" her voice barely audible, with the screen still pitch black.

"ning, i can't see you," you whisper against your phone, your voice hushed and quiet, afraid that the chinese girl could get caught.

ningning moves her phone closer to her face, the light from your end on the call illuminating her features. any time the chinese girl felt bored, tired, or upset, she always found refuge in you; you were her safety net, and vice-versa.

your eyes trace her features, barely able to fully see them, but nonetheless, you couldn't help but admire the girl's sheer beauty. heat curls at your cheeks at the way despite her features barely on-screen, she was still ultimately gorgeous.

"why's it dark? i thought you were rooming alone this time," you ask, confusion washing over your features.

"aeri's already asleep," the chinese girl whispers, cautious as she does so.

usually, the members were all in different rooms, so you raise an eyebrow at the way it suddenly changed.

"shit, sorry—we can always call tomorrow," you blurt out, not wanting to bother ningning, as your finger hovers over the hang-up button.

"no- no, it's fine, baby," she interjects, her voice gentle and soft, making a small pout form on your face. your knees buckle a bit at the way her voice is reassuring, almost alluring, even. if she said anything in that same gentle tone, you were sure you would be compliant with whatever she said.

"i missed you anyway," she murmurs against her phone, her voice barely above a whisper. with her cheeks obviously flushed, you couldn't help but poke tease at her.

"'m just so amazing, aren't i, huh? makin' the ning yizhuo fold so easily," you tease, your quiet tone matching her volume, despite the chinese girl already wearing airpods anyway.

even through the phone, you could feel the way ningning scoffs, already picturing her face distorting in audaciousness. your eyes scrutinize her features—from the top of her head to her neck—noticing her tousled dark hair, to the eye-bags painting her face.

and by then, you couldn't help but find her to be a divinity, regardless of her disheveled appearance.

to ningning, it was merely a dystopian idea to her that, it felt like she couldn't breathe or think properly without being near your presence.

"yeah, maybe you are," the girl plays along to your jokes, making you turn your head away for a brief moment to hide your flushed cheeks.

adorned with a wide smile, you chuckle, a lovesick look in your eyes. "i must be in heaven then, aren't i? what have i done to deserve a girl like you?"

ningning shakes her head, a toothy grin playing on her face, as she drawls, "well, you're gorgeous—that's for one." you can feel the girl's grin, especially with the way her voice was tender.

"are you trying to flirt with me, ning yizhuo?" you ask, exaggerating your shock, raising an eyebrow in suspicion.

"so what if i am?" she coaxes, a shit-eating smirk adorning her face. propping her phone up against the bed's headboard, ningning yawns, carding a hand through her hair.

you scoff, incredulous, "you looked just so fuckin' good for whiplash," you drawl out, sighing.

before she could tease you again, the chinese girl is interrupted by a yawn from herself. rubbing her eyes, a sigh drifts from her lips, making you remember the late hour for ningning.

"shit, i should be lettin' you get to sleep now, shouldn't i?" you mumble, earning you a frantic ningning shaking her head, as you pout at your girlfriend's persistence to not sleep. you roll your eyes, noticing the way the girl is struggling to even keep her eyes open.

"no- no, c'mon. 5 more minutes—tops," ningning whines desperately, "i'm more than awake; i'm so lively." though, her body betrays her words, as a yawn erupts from her breath at the end of her sentence.

you run your hand through your hair, as a series of giggles escape your breath. tilting your head in disproval, you scoff, "you have performances tomorrow, baby, c'mon—just listen to me."

she huffs, trying to compromise with you, "fine, but stay on call till i fall asleep. i promise i'll sleep."

you nod begrudgingly, before the two of you hold your pinkies toward your guys' screen, making a promise that she'd fall asleep while you stayed on call. the chinese girl falls asleep rather hastily, proving you right.

"sweet dreams, ning."

it's so sweet, knowing you love me

though we don't need to say it to each other, sweet

#fics 　.#kpop imagines #kpop x reader #aespa x reader #aespa imagines #aespa ningning #aespa ningning x reader #ningning #ning yizhuo #ningning x reader #ning yizhuo x reader

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familyvideostevie · 1 year ago

Text

steel drum weight of me

joel miller x fem!reader, 18+ mdni

summary: joel comes back from his wall shift with hands in need of some serious tlc. but why stop there? | 3.2k

warnings: fem!reader, fluff turned to smut, a tender blowjob, p in v sex, unprotected sex, riding, creampie

a/n: this could be in the same universe as come care about me and watching you with wonder but who knows. what matters is it's a post-part i jackson au and all is well. this is my first fic in a while and i hammered it out today so hopefully it's coherent. <3 series masterlist here.

Jackson looks its best in the winter.

You've always thought so with its endless skies gone white, blending in with the grey clouds carrying the constant threat of snow. The peaks you never tire of, such ethereal beauty in a world otherwise gone to shit, looming over town with a steadfastness that you can fool yourself into thinking means protection, means safety. In reality, they're just something nice to look at when you have a free moment.

It's also fucking cold.

But you can deal with that. You've spent more winters in the last twenty years than you'd like to remember mostly outside, freezing your ass off, fingers so numb you could barely pull the trigger. But when it counted, you did.

Winter now means a town full of children laughing and having snowball fights. It means big pots of stew and your pick of hats, scarves, and a good pair of boots. It means a warm house to go back to every night, a bed to crawl into, and a man you love to hold you.

Things could be worse.

You're home first today. Joel and Ellie are on the wall and have been since mid-morning. The light is already going, the sun dipping behind the Tetons, sky that winter mix of purple and pink that makes the breath catch in your throat no matter how many times you see it. There's a flu going around and taking people out for a few days at most but it means fewer bodies free for the wall and for patrol. You're pulling a double tomorrow and you're already looking forward to the hot bath you'll take after.

Today, though, you change from your work clothes to something softer, a sweater that travels between your drawer and Joel's, thick socks Dina gave you for your birthday last year. It's hard to heat houses like yours the way you used to but it works well enough to fight the chill so long as you layer. That's the name of the game these days: adapting.

You set the kettle to boil and forgo thinking about dinner for a few hours. Joel won't drink tea with you but if Ellie stops by she'll have some. Maybe you can convince her to watch the movie you pulled from the library this week. You love him, but Joel just doesn't appreciate comedies.

The front door creaks, the bell you have hanging from the doorknob jingling.

"S'me," Joel calls into the house. "You home?"

"Making tea." The kettle isn't steaming yet so you lean against the counter and wait.

The sounds of his return are familiar even though you can't see him. He locks the door with a click, shrugs his jacket off with a sigh. He sits down on the bench you put in the entryway so he can take his boots off. The thunk of one and then the other. He'll tuck them next to yours under the coat rack. When the weather is bad you try to come in the back door so not as to track snow through the house but you don't want his back to get any worse so a bench in front makes sense.

The kettle screams. You pull it off quick and pour the water into your mug -- a chipped green one with a dinosaur holding a cookie that you find endlessly amusing -- and leave it to steep. The floor creaks under your socked feet as you make your way into the hall. Joel still sits on the bench digging into the meat of one palm with his thumb like he's working the feeling back into them.

He looks up and his jaw softens a little. His cheeks are rosy from the cold and his hair a mess from the wind. "Evenin," he says.

"How was the wall?"

"Fine." He stops messing with his hands and rolls his shoulders back with a grunt. "Ellie swears she saw a moose on her last patrol. Said to tell you. I think she's fuckin' with me. How was your shift?"

"Fine," you echo. "Is she coming for dinner?"

He shakes his head. "Game night at Jesse's."

You cross the remaining distance between you and he parts his legs automatically so you can stand between his knees. You run a hand through his hair, pushing the greying fringe back from his eyes. He looks up at you and finally smiles, just a little. You drag your hand down the side of his face and enjoy the feel of his beard on your skin.

"Maybe she did see a moose." He rolls his eyes and brings a hand up to cover yours. You lean down to kiss him but something catches your eye and you pull back, tugging your hand from beneath his to circle his wrist.

"Jesus, Joel." He makes a surprised sound.

"Hey now, what --"

You pull his other hand from his knee and hold them both close to your face, turning them over in the light of the entryway. "You didn't wear gloves, did you?"

He just shrugs. That means someone else on the wall -- probably Ellie -- forgot theirs and he handed his own over.

The skin of his knuckles is dry and cracked, the rest of his palm dry and cold to the touch. You've seen them bloody, broken and bruised, and compared to that, this is tame. Welcome, almost. But you know he won't do a damn thing about it, let himself bleed rather than take a second to make things better.

And you've never minded this part. Taking care of him, making him slow down and rest for even just a little bit. You both know you'd get your hands dirty or worse for him and he for you, but this is the part he has trouble with. So you take the reigns.

It's part of how you fit together -- part of how you look after each other.

"We've got something for this." Joel looks unamused. You press a light kiss to one of his knuckles and his nostrils flare. "Go sit on the couch," you say.

"I'm fine --"

"Joel, they'll bleed if you don't let me --"

"I said I'm --"

"Hey," you say. He hears the finality of your tone and lets you have it, sighing your name in one long breath.

"Alright," he says. "Move, then."

You press a quick kiss to his lips and release his hands to step back. He stands with his usual grunt and you have to stop yourself from leaning into the width of him, from wrapping your arms around him and slotting your nose in his neck and never letting go.

"It's that salve Dina brought over last week," you tell him. "The new one for the winter. Smells nice. Good for this kind of stuff."

Joel makes his way to the couch and you fetch the tin from the kitchen.

"What's it made of?"

"Uh -- oil? And some flowers, I think? Wax, maybe."

He's settled into the cushions when you return, smirking. "It's okay to say you don't fuckin' know."

You sit next to him and unscrew the top, folding your legs so you're facing him. "Well then, I don't fuckin' know." You're sure to imitate his drawl.

"Cute."

"Gimme those hands, big guy."

The salve smells faintly of lavender and it's cold on your fingertips. Joel extends his right hand and you work it into his skin slowly, extra careful around where it's cracked and split. You feel his eyes on you but you let him look.

"Feels good, huh?" He hums. "If you'd wear your gloves then --"

"What was I gonna do, let her freeze?" So it was Ellie, then. You flick your gaze up and find his brow furrowed. If you have a free hand you'd smooth the crease with your thumb.

"No," you say. "Guess it's a damn good thing you have me here, then."

He chuckles, a throaty, rusty sound. "Guess so."

You finish the first hand and motion for his second. He gives it to you and you dig your thumbs into the meat of his palm. Joel lets you touch him whenever you like, for the most part. Pressing into his side when you walk down the street in town, trailing your lips down his neck until he whines just a little in your bedroom. You've worked knots out of his shoulders and cleaned blood from surface wounds. You can never get enough of him, of his warmth, the expanse of his tanned skin all yours for the taking.

And, boy, he touches you back.

So you take your time. You rub the salve between his fingers, over the ridges of knuckles split so many times you don't even know about. His hands are rough even when they're not dry and cracking, callused from years of hard work. From years of violence and playing guitar, shooting a gun and holding the people he loves. Dotted with scars and nicks, hands that have touched every part of you.

Joel's slightly slimy finger taps your chin. "You okay?" You've been stroking the same bit of his hand for who knows how long.

"Yeah," you say and mean it. You rub your own hands together to soak in some of the salve before putting the lid back on the tin and standing. "Need to let it soak in."

"Feels soaked in already," he grumbles.

"Stay there." He purses his lips. "I mean it, Joel."

"Bossy today," he says. "There's wood that needs choppin'." You ignore him since he's just being annoying. The salve goes back in the kitchen and his voice trails after you. "And I told Tommy I'd --"

You turn on the tap. "You gotta let that soak in," you say again from the sink.

"What? Can't hear over the water."

You turn off the tap and dry your hands. Joel is still on the couch when you return. "Sorry," you say. You run your hand through his hair again and settle back down next to him. "I said be patient."

"Don't think that's what you said."

"It's what I meant."

And he looks at you in that way that always makes your face feel hot. Like he's seeing right to the bone of you, like he's laying you bare on the floor in his mind. Like he never wants to stop looking at you, next to him on the couch, leg pressed to yours. Like he loves you.

"Alright," he says.

You get an idea, the flames licking at your belly and your hands itching to touch him again, to touch him differently than before. That idea has you grabbing a pillow and tossing it to the floor, has you getting up and drawing the curtains before you sink to your knees before him.

Joel only looks mildly surprised, eyebrows raised, mouth tugging up at the corner. "Now, I ain't gonna complain but --"

"Then don't," you say. You tug his shirt from his waistband and start working on his belt. "Gotta pass the time somehow. And I don't know what we're doing for dinner yet, so maybe I'm just stalling."

"Hell of a way to stall." He reaches for you to touch your face, maybe, or help you with his belt, when you click your tongue. "We can just go to the community hall--"

"Don't touch," you remind him. "You have to let it--"

"Soak, Jesus, yeah, yeah." Joel tips his head back along the sofa and takes one deep breath. If he really wanted to he could ignore you and you'd let him get away with it, but if there's one thing you and Joel have solidified, it's trust. He trusts you to take care of him, to handle him with hands that love him.

So you do. He lifts his hips just a little so you can tug his jeans down, zipper undone and button popped. You pull out his cock, already half-hard at the promise of what's to come. You spit into your palm and stroke him once root to tip and he hisses. More blood flows and he stiffens in your hand.

"You just gonna look at it?"

You give him a squeeze for being a shit. He laughs but it sounds punched out, on the edge. Frankly it's an effort not to take him in your mouth right away. You've always loved this -- the exchange of power, the trust. You're the one on your knees but you're calling the shots. And he's mouthwatering. The way his cock curves a little, the vein that runs along the underside. The mushroom head a little pinker than the rest, the wiry hair at his base. The hefty weight of his balls in your hand, on your tongue. You know how to make it good for him and it's good for you, too.

Joel opens his mouth to no doubt say something else annoying so you finally drag your tongue along the vein, swirling a little at the top before taking just the tip of him in your mouth. His precome is salty. You work your hand along the rest of him as you start to suck in earnest, hollowing your cheeks and taking a little more each time.

"Look so pretty, baby," Joel says. His voice is gravely, broken in his throat. You manage to take almost all of him and you swallow, just once. Your reward is your name spilling from his mouth in a groan.

It's messy. Spit beads at the corner of your mouth and drips a little as you work him, breathing through your nose when you take him all the way. So good, takin' all of me, keep goin'.

Joel has clearly forgotten your directive as he winds one hand in your hair and pulls just a little, just enough to make you moan around him. You don't scold him for it, instead keeping your eyes on his face. His head is tipped back just a little, lips parted at he gazes down at you. His other arm is stretched along the length of the couch, his fingers digging into the fabric as you bob on his cock.

You know he's close. You can feel how he's trying hard to keep his hips down, trying not to fuck your throat cause usually he asks first. So it's only a little surprising when he pulls you off him, eyes a little glazed and some color high on his cheeks.

He wipes spit from the corner of your mouth with the pad of his thumb. "Why don't you c'mere?" he says. "Let me fill you up."

"Joel." This was supposed to be about making him feel good. You know even if he comes in your mouth he'll ask you let him touch you, so frankly you don't mind if he fucks you or not.

He smirks, presses his fingers into the side of your neck a little. You swallow so he can feel it. "We both know you can take it," he drawls, eyes dark. "Always gets you goin', my cock in your mouth."

You can feel the heat between your legs, the arousal pooling in your gut. He's right but he's also an asshole. "You're annoying," you tell him.

"So is that a no?"

You drag the flat of your tongue up his shaft one last time as punishment before standing, using his knees as leverage to get off your own. He shucks off his jeans the rest of the way as you drag down your pants, letting them pool with your underwear at your feet before stepping out. Joel holds out a hand for you to balance on and you take it, putting your other on his shoulder.

"Feels softer already," you mutter. Joel snickers and you straddle him. He uses one hand to drag his fingers through your cunt and you fail to swallow a gasp.

"Well, look at that," he says. "I was right." He pushes two fingers into you and they go easily, your hips jerking as he pumps them in and out once, twice, and then you're empty again.

"Smug bastard," you manage. He brings his hand to his mouth and takes a long lick before surging forward to kiss you. You can taste yourself on his tongue and it makes you even wetter.

Joel licks into your mouth and you kiss him back sloppily, desperately, in the way you know he likes. You're so busy with that hands on his face, his beard scratching your skin deliciously, that you don't notice what else he's doing. His hand presses into the bare skin of your back under your shirt and you lift up a little on instinct and then --

The head of his cock nudges at your entrance and his hand presses again and you meet the movement of his hips with your own and he fills you with just one stroke.

You moan in unison, Joel's arm wrapping around your back as you curl yours around his neck, mouths not so much pressed together as hovering as you pant, as you adjust. Even with how wet you are Joel is a stretch, a welcome one, but a stretch regardless. You shift your hips, roll them back and forth a little.

"Go on, then," you tell him. "Fuck me."

He laughs.

His lips leave yours and trail down your chin, sucking spots onto your neck and on that spot that makes you keen as he does what you ask. He goes slow at first, letting you meet him thrust for thrust. One hand snakes up your shirt, thumbs at your nipple when he finds no bra in the way. You wing your fingers in his hair and tug, tug until he picks up the pace, until all you can hear is the smack of his flesh against yours.

"Joel -- Joel -- right there --"

"M'not gonna -- I -- fuck --"

"Said you were gonna fill me up, didn't you?" you pant, managing to find a bit of cheek in the haze of your fucking. "C'mon, Miller. Don't keep a lady wait--"

His hips pick up the pace, his hands pressing into you hard enough to bruise. You give up trying to tease him and hang on for dear life, managing to snake a hand between your legs to rub at your clit as he pounds into you. The only thing you can say is his name over and over as you feel the hook pull taught, feel the head of his cock brush against and then pound that spot that makes your vision blur.

Joel comes just before you do, his thrusts stuttering and his name on your lips. You feel it, the heat inside you and it's enough to send you over the edge, your cunt squeezing him as he empties inside you.

You press your forehead to his and catch your breath. He palms your neck, your jaw, slides his thumb lazily under your eye and kisses the corner of your mouth.

"Hell of a salve," he manages.

You slot your lips over his. "Wear your damn gloves." Joel laughs and it shifts him inside you. Even softening it makes you both hiss a little. "Just gimme a second."

His hand drags up and down your back, pressing into your spine. "Take your time," he says. "M'clearly not goin' anywhere."

"You never stop, do you?"

Joel kisses you again. "'fraid not."

You laugh into his neck. "Good."

thank you for reading <3 reblog, send feedback, general masterlist here!

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller fanfiction

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