#sorry there's just something about guys with their shirts undone | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

madaqueue · 4 months ago

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18+, MDNI - f!reader

sukuna wasn’t a jealous man per se, but he absolutely was possessive - what’s his was his alone - especially when it comes to you. but that just made it all the more fun to taunt him, seeing how much you could get away with. sometimes, sure, maybe you get a little too touchy with random guys at bars just to get a rise out of him, to see what he’ll do to put you back in your place, remind you that you’re his.

“sukuna, what’s the big deal?” you whine as the bathroom door slams shut behind you.

finally releasing his grip on your wrist, he looks at you with nothing short of rage flowing behind his crimson eyes. “the ‘big deal’ is you practically begging that wanna-be frat boy piece of shit to fuck you right in front of me,” he spits.

rolling your eyes, you rest your back against the wooden doorframe. “he’s just a friend.”

“oh, so you get touchy with all your friends like that, hm? put your arms around ‘em, tell ‘em how nice they look in their ugly ass knock-off gucci shirts?”

crossing your arms, you feel the heat of excitement building in your chest - now, it was all too easy to fan the flames. “he was just offering to buy me a drink.”

“oh!” he practically yells, voice echoing off the faux tiles of the bar’s restroom. “well then by all means, go back out there and get your free drink! while you’re at it, why don’t you see if his daddy’s money can get you a new car, or a yacht or something - maybe he can be the one to shell out the cash for you to get your nails done every week, and your hair, and your lashes ‘n shit, because clearly i’m not providing for you enough if you feel like you have to whore yourself out for a fucking $10 vodka cran!”

uh oh. whenever he starts monologuing like this, it’s never a good sign. maybe you pushed him a bit too far this time.

shifting uncomfortably, you soften your tone. “‘kuna,” you sigh, “you’re right, i’m sorry.”

“‘sorry?’” he mocks. “you didn’t look very sorry when your hands were all up in his hair or on his chest, hm?” they should only be on me, he thinks, but manages to hold himself back. “were you ‘sorry’ when you told him he’s the funniest person here for making some lame ass joke about how ‘working class’ i look?”

“look, that’s not-“

“no, no! why don’t you go fuck the trust fund baby and see if his three-inch house-in-the-hamptons dick can satisfy you! i bet they’ve got housekeepers and personal chefs and shit, maybe they can teach you some goddamn manners about how to treat people!”

oh, this is bad. yeah, you went too far.

slowly, you raise your hands to his chest, locking eyes with him as you steady your breathing. “‘kuna, you’re right. i fucked up. i shouldn’t have said that shit, i didn’t mean it and i’m sorry.”

the flames of anger crackle under his skin as he looks at you - god, he wishes you didn’t look so beautiful under the flickering lights in this shitty bathroom, maybe then it would be easier to stay mad at you. “yeah, yeah, alright. whatever.”

but you aren’t done - he’s clearly still mad, so your work isn’t finished just yet. “how can i prove that i’m sorry?” you murmur, batting your eyelashes up at him.

the corner of his lip twitches ever so slightly into a smirk. “‘prove it,’ eh?”

you nod, plastering as innocent of a look on your face as possible, wide doe eyes and glossed lips smiling softly.

“well, i have an idea of how you could make it up to me.”

“anything,” you hum. you just want him to forgive you.

almost instantly, the cool tile floor hits your knees as the sound of a zipper being undone fills the silence. looking up, you’re suddenly face to face with his fully erect cock, a small drop of precum beading at the tip.

“well?” he smirks, “better get to apologizing.”

this smug bastard.

rolling your eyes, you figure it's easier to just accept your fate and apologize in whatever way he happens to see fit - in this case, with his cock in your mouth. parting your lips, you slowly roll your tongue over his flushed tip as he lets out a low groan that echoes through the space. after a few moments of working him into your mouth, a calloused hand reaches behind your head, guiding you further down his length.

“juuuust like that, good fuckin' girl” he mumbles, mostly to himself as he tugs you up and down his cock.

the salty taste of his pre on your tongue has heat building in your core, your thighs beginning to rub together. trailing your fingers between your legs, you nearly make it to your cunt before he roughly kicks your hand away.

“acht - no touching. you're supposed to be makin' me forgive you, remember?” your lips attempt to curl into a frown around him as he chuckles above you. “aw, don’t pout,” he coos sarcastically. “if you wanted to get fucked, you should’ve just asked me instead of acting like some fuckin’ slut out there.”

fair point.

taking in a breath through your nose, you continue working him in and out of your mouth. sukuna was big, and you always struggled to take all of him. sometimes he would be nice and let you take your time opening your throat for him.

but not today.

with one harsh thrust, he pushes himself all the way past your lips until his tip knocks at the back of your throat. a menacing giggle overpowers the sound of your gags as he pulls you off him.

“c’mon baby, not doin’ a very good job saying sorry, now are ya? i thought i taught you to be more grateful.”

with that, his hips jut up again, all the way into you. tears begin spilling over your lashes as you struggle to breathe, but each time it threatens to become too much he pulls back, letting you desperately suck in air.

drool spills down your chin as he fucks your mouth, ravenous and greedy. the lack of oxygen has you lightheaded as thick tears cascade down your cheeks.

but if this is what it takes for him to forgive you, so be it.

the hand at the back of your head tightens in your hair as he drags you up and down, his chuckles becoming more and more breathy.

“fuck baby, m’close, y’gonna take it all for me, yeah?” he asks, mostly rhetorically as you couldn’t answer with the way his cock fills your mouth. all you can let out is a weak whine in affirmation.

with one final thrust, thick ropes of cum shoot down your throat, the salty taste lingering as he pulls out. tucking himself back into his boxers and zipping his jeans, he takes in the sight of you on your knees, black trails of mascara streaming from your eyes, drool spilling down your chin. your chest rapidly rises and falls as you attempt to steady your breath.

reaching a hand down, he strokes your cheek, wiping away a trail of spit before helping you to your feet.

there’s a glimmer of mischief behind his ruby eyes as he leads you from the bathroom, purposely leaving you in this disheveled state. “c’mon baby, let’s go - wouldn’t want to keep your ‘friend’ waiting.”

#q writes #drabbles #sukuna #sukuna ryomen #ryomen sukuna #sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna ryomen x reader #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk fanfic #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #sukuna smut #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut

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familyvideostevie · 9 months ago

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it's your turn for choosing

this was born out of a prompt request from my dear, dear, @softlyspector. this is for you, becca!

getting asked out via a smudgy scribble on a coffee cup | valentine's day prompts

joel miller x reader

summary/warnings: joel stops by your coffee shack every day. it's not your fault you're a little in love with him because of it. | modern au, fluff, flirting, jesse and cat and ellie cameos, game!joel in my head. i have not been a barista so sorry to all baristas if this reads wildly off-base. | 5.6k

a/n: it's giving rom-com! happy valentine's day. a bit different from my usual fare but hopefully it makes your heart warm. love u. thank u always to @macfrog and @bageldaddy for your eyes.

___

7:32 am. It’s helpful in this line of work to know exactly when you’re fucked.

The espresso machine has been on the fritz all week and despite how much you want your current method of fixing it to work – banging a fist on the top until it stops wheezing – all signs point to today being a very bad day indeed.

You’ve only been open for two hours.

Here for three, awake for four. God, you’re tired.

Anyway – you’re fucked. And there’s nothing you can do about it.

You call the time of death on the machine and search for something you can write on.

The Zone – a stupid name, but you can’t be bothered to change the sign that came with the place – is a coffee shop that sits between towns.

Your coffee shop.

It's more shack than shop, not really a zone of anything, just an order window and a five-drink menu. It's the kind of place that appears like a mirage for tourists right before they get on the highway at an ungodly hour and serves as a quick stop for everyone else. You open earlier than any other place around to get the truckers and the farmers and close when you stop being able to keep your eyes open.

The faded brown clapboard building is no bigger than an RV. The paint is chipped and the roof is a too-bright shade of green and you serve your drinks and the occasional sweet treat when you can get a good deal off of the baker two towns over through a window. It’s not a fancy chain, it’s not a drive-thru. You’ve got a bathroom and a few rickety cafe tables and chairs and no fucking common sense since you like it.

You even love it, some days.

And the craziest part is that it works. Even on mornings like this one, when your espresso machine breaks during the lull between rushes and your part-time help calls in sick and you’ve spilled coffee all over your apron twice – it works.

You tear off the lip of a cardboard box and write in big block letters: NO ESPRESSO TODAY. Maybe Tess, the baker, knows someone who can fix it. She knows everyone.

“Fuck you, you piece of junk,” you say. You give the machine another smack for good measure.

Someone clears their throat and you whirl around, makeshift sign in hand.

You’ve been doing this long enough that a handsome customer doesn’t phase you, but the man standing at your order window makes your stomach swoop for just a second.

“Morning,” you say, summoning your smile. “Hold on a sec, let me just –”

You lean out the window and wedge the piece of cardboard against the napkin holder on the ledge.

The man’s gaze drops to read. You take the opportunity to look at him.

He’s tall and broad – if you had to guess, you’d say he works on one of the farms around here. He’s tan, dark hair threaded through with grey. His arms are crossed and you wish he wasn’t wearing a jacket so you could see his forearms. His denim shirt is undone at the top and you fixate on the chorded column of his throat, on the teasing glimpse of chest hair underneath.

The guy looks tired.

Bone-tired, the kind of exhaustion you see when you look in the mirror. It comes from hundreds of early mornings and late nights, from hours on your feet and plenty of worry. He’s got lines at the corners of his eyes and a few around his mouth and you find yourself hoping they’re from laughter.

“No espresso,” he reads, slow and unhurried. His drawl fits in with most of the folks around here, but you’re sure you haven’t seen him before. You’d remember.

“Hope that doesn't scare you off,” you say. “Still got everything else.”

“Everything else being…” He glances at the chalkboard that serves as your menu.

DRIP COFFEE. LATTE. CAPPUCCINO. TEA. HOT CHOCOLATE. All written in your blocky hand in white paint.

“Three options.”

Trial and error have taught you that simple works best. You’ll make anything people ask for, so long as you know how and have the supplies, and if they’re nice about it you won’t charge too much extra.

“Can I get you one of those three options?”

You’re not trying to rush him, but the next wave of people is bound to show up any minute.

“Black coffee will do,” he says. His mouth tugs up at the corner into a smirk that makes your face feel hot. “If you have that.”

“Thank you for taking pity on me,” you say, going for teasing and missing the mark by a mile. You just sound tired and genuine. “You just made my morning.”

He looks amused and you turn from him, unable to hide your grin. You pour a steaming cup and snap the lid on.

“Pretty shit morning if this is makin’ it,” he drawls.

You hand him the cup and your fingers brush.

“You have no idea.”

He eyes the sign again and then your stained apron. “I got some notion.” He tugs his wallet from his back pocket and pulls out a $5 bill. “Keep the change,” he says.

You want to refuse, to thank him, but a few more cars pull up and Mr. Black Coffee just raises his cup to you and heads back to his truck.

Well, shit. You hope he comes back. A tipper like that, and hot? You sure wouldn’t mind if he became a regular customer. __

You call Tess that afternoon and she does know a guy, so the espresso machine gets fixed and things go back to normal. Your part-time help returns in the morning and nothing else breaks.

Today is uncharacteristically warm for the season. The inside of The Zone is almost stifling, always at least 15 degrees warmer than outside, and you keep wiping your sweaty hands on your apron as you make espresso after espresso for the lunch crowd.

Cat, a spunky girl who likes to practice her latte art when it’s slow, takes orders at the register. You keep half of your attention on her and half on the four drinks you’re working on.

“Black coffee, please,” someone says to her. Someone whose voice you recognize.

“Can I get a name for that?” Cat asks. It’s busy enough that calling names is easier than calling orders, no matter how small your menu is.

“Joel,” he says. You let the milk steam on its own and pour the black coffee before Cat can do it.

“I’ve got it,” you tell her. “Can you finish up those drinks?”

She shrugs and you swap places. You know you’re sweaty and coffee-stained but you smile at him and hand over his coffee.

“Hot coffee on a day like this?” you tease. He – Joel – is sweaty, too. The collar of his work shirt is dark with sweat and his hair is a mess. He must be here on his lunch break. He takes the cup from you and slurps a long sip as a reply to your question.

You laugh. Joel looks pleased.

“Operatin’ a full menu, I see,” he says, pulling out another $5. “Glad you got it fixed.”

“It’s still a piece of junk,” you shrug. “Just don’t tell anyone I said that.”

He waves off your offer of change and raises his cup at you, taking a few steps backward towards his truck.

“Thank you,” he says. He eyes the tag on your chest and tacks your name on at the end. It sounds good from his mouth.

“Bye, Joel,” you say. His lips twitch but you barely have time to think about it before you have to take the next few orders.

The line dies down and you step away from the register to help Cat with some cappuccinos – your least favorite drink by far due to all the damn foam they require – and she eyes you.

“Dude,” Cat says. “What the hell was that?”

If it wasn’t already a billion degrees in here you know your face would feel hot.

“What the hell was what?”

She can’t reply for a few seconds while you grind beans for some espresso.

“I didn’t even know you knew how to flirt,” she muses, tapping a frother full of milk a few times. “That was pretty bad flirting if you ask me –”

You turn the grinder on again to drown her out.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you yell. She rolls her eyes at you until you turn off the machine.

You tamp down the grounds and slot them into the machine.

“I mean, not my type at all, for like, so many reasons,” she says, wrinkling her nose. “Way too old for me, for one. Man, for another. But I see the appeal, I guess. Seems like he likes you. And was that a five-dollar bill? Black coffee is two bucks, last time I checked –”

“Can we get back to steaming milk, please?” you snap, more embarrassed than mad. “I am not taking flirting advice from a teenager.”

“I’m twenty!” she sputters. “Wait, so you admit that you like him?”

“Milk.”

Cat is right, though, and you know it. You just don’t see any harm in having a crush on some guy who comes to your coffee shop. Running this place means you see hundreds of people every day. You know their names, you ask them about their kids and their pets and their jobs, and you smile at them even on your bad days. It’s just part of the job. The daily interactions keep you afloat, make you feel more solid in your own life. People see you, they recognize you, they know you – even if it’s just because you make them coffee.

Maybe Joel will keep coming back. Maybe he’ll become one of the regulars you know things about.

And if you have a crush on him?

No harm done. He’s nice to look at.

And he tips well.

Joel stops by again.

And again.

He comes in every morning – sometimes at lunch – and orders the same thing. You learn the rumble of his truck by ear alone, the crunch of his boots on the gravel. Sometimes people in line say hi to him and a smile works its way onto your face on instinct when his voice reaches your ear. It’s never slow enough to have a proper conversation but he smiles at you, tells you he likes the flowers, your new apron.

All of it is flirting but maybe not flirting.

Maybe he’s just being polite.

Also, he keeps overpaying.

One day, almost a month since you first saw him, he doesn’t come in the morning. When you don’t see him in line at lunch, either, you’re a little disappointed. The weather is perfect – not too hot, not too cold, the sun shining – and you want to see him in the sunlight.

The day crowd is long gone and you’re only an hour or two from closing when his truck pulls up.

“I was getting worried,” you call as he walks over. Usually, he’s got some kind of dust or paint or something on them – Joel is a contractor, you’ve learned through your brief encounters, not a farmer – but today his clothes are clean and un-ripped.

“I’m honored,” he says.

You have his cup ready by the time he reaches the window.

“I’m just surprised you can get through the day without a cup of coffee.”

He snorts and hands you his cash.

“I can’t,” he says. “Had shitty home brew this morning.”

He takes a sip of your coffee and sighs. Your heart picks up and you don’t hide your grin.

“What’s with the schedule change?” you ask.

He smirks. “Miss me?”

You scoff and cross your arms. Heat rises in your chest and you feel almost giddy.

“Just curious,” you say. “Don’t let it go to your head, but you’re my favorite customer.”

Joel laughs and scratches the back of his neck.

“Reckon that’s the tip.”

“Actually, ordering a cup of black coffee is the way to any barista’s heart.”

Joel’s eyebrows climb up his forehead.

“Ah,” he says. He takes another sip, his eyes dancing with mirth. “‘Course.”

“Nah,” you say with a teasing smile. “I’d never be so shallow.”

There’s no line behind him but you expect him to go back to his truck, anyway. But here he is. Talking to you.

You grab a rag and wipe down the counter to keep your hands busy.

“I’m, uh. Meetin’ one of my kids here,” Joel says. The sudden shyness that accompanies his admission is a surprise.

Your eyes dart to his hand but you see no ring, nor the pale shadow of one.

“Both of ‘em moved to the city recently. Ellie – she’s comin’ up for the night.”

“I’ll bet you miss them,” you offer. You’re not sure why he’d want to bring his daughter to your coffee shack, but you’re not complaining.

Joel smiles at you. It’s a sad smile but still a good one. The affection in his eyes is raw.

“Sure do,” he says. He tucks one hand in his pocket and takes another sip of his coffee. “But it’s good for them. Sarah – she’s a little older – is in school and Ellie is workin’ on her music and whatever else she’s into these days.” The pride in his voice is clear.

“Well, I’m honored you want to bring her here.” You gesture to your slightly sad sitting area and the empty lot behind him.

Joel looks ready to argue with you when a faded, older version of his truck pulls up. Music leaks from the open windows and the driver bops her head to the beat a few times before shutting it off and hoping out, thumbs flying on the screen of her phone.

“That’ll be her,” he says drily. “Hey, kiddo.”

Ellie looks up from her hands, tucks her phone in her back pocket, and grins at Joel.

She doesn’t look a thing like him, but the connection is obvious. She moves like him, her shoulders set like she’s ready for a challenge at any moment. Joel sets his coffee down at the window and meets her halfway for a hug.

You look away and busy yourself with restocking whatever you can get your hands on.

“Dude, you come here every day?” Ellie asks. “Joel, this is so far from –”

Joel talks over her.

“Drive go okay? Sarah said they’re doin’ shit on the 35 –”

Ellie huffs.

“Yeah, yeah, some traffic getting out of the city ‘cause of the fucking lane closure, but otherwise fine.”

“Good.”

You turn to face them, a genuine smile firmly in place.

“Hi,” you say. Joel picks up his coffee again, which Ellie eyes with a scowl. You introduce yourself to her. “You’re Ellie, right? I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Ellie frowns. Behind her, Joel’s mouth twitches but he says nothing. It’s a lie, obviously, but something tells you he doesn’t mind and she believes it.

“Really?” She throws him a glare and then rolls her eyes. “You gotta stop telling strangers about me, man.”

“Someone’s gotta warn ‘em,” he says.

She laughs. “Hey, fuck you!”

“Only good stuff,” you say. You like her. “Joel says you’re working on your music?”

Ellie’s eyes light up. “Oh, yeah,” she says. “I’ve got an audition next week.” She turns to Joel. “I brought my guitar ‘cause I have a fuck ton of songs to play for you.”

He puts a hand on her shoulder and she settles a little.

“I bet they’re real good.”

Ellie flushes and rolls her eyes. “Yeah, well. You have to hear them first.”

You feel a little off-balance again, like you’re on the fringes of something you shouldn’t be seeing. The love on Joel’s face is clear as day.

“Do you want some coffee?” you ask her.

Joel winces. Ellie gags.

“No offense,” she starts, eyes darting between you and Joel. “I know Joel is fifty percent coffee on a good day, but it’s not my thing.” She looks at the menu and narrows her eyes. “I had a mocha the other day and didn’t hate it. Do you make those?”

“Look at that,” Joel says. “You’re convertin’.”

“Am not,” Ellie says. “It’s got chocolate in it, dude. No shit, I like it.”

“Yeah, give me a few minutes,” you laugh. “I’ll put lots of chocolate in it.”

They sit at one of your tables and you hear their laughter in the background as you make her drink.

It’s strange to see Joel like this – to build up on the man you’ve imagined him to be in your mind. Father never occurred to you. It makes sense, though, like a missing piece of him slotted into place. But it also makes the crush feel a little more real. Now that he’s more than your favorite regular customer. Now that you know a piece of him, of who he really is.

It makes you want to know more.

You finish her drink and call Ellie’s name. They both stand and Joel digs in his wallet again.

“Don’t you dare pay me, Joel,” you say. You direct your next words at Ellie. “Really. I’m just honored you stopped by.”

She eyes Joel and he eyes her right back with the same look. She must have learned it from him.

“Yeah,�� she says. “Me too.” She grins at you with all of her teeth. “Joel loves this place. Talks about it all the time.”

She takes a sip of her mocha and her eyes go wide.

“Wait, this is fucking good. Man, I see why you drive –”

Joel clears his throat.

“We’re off,” he says. “Thank you, as always.” He sounds softer than usual as if being nice to his daughter is the best thing you could do for him.

You suppose it is.

“You’re welcome, as always.”

Ellie knocks her shoulder with Joel’s as they head back to their trucks. She must be whispering something to him because he swats her away with a groan and she cackles.

They both wave at you as they drive away.

Joel keeps coming in the mornings, and your conversations return to their fleeting cadence. Even so, it’s hard to deny that your crush on him has kicked into high gear.

You try not to let your gaze linger on his lips, on his throat. On his hands when he takes the cup from you, how your skin brushes and it makes you warm all over. You think about how he laughed, how relaxed he was around Ellie. You want to know what he’s like outside of your small daily interaction. You want to know what he eats for dinner, how he spends his weekends, what he listens to on the radio.

You want him.

Business is busy, which helps. A kid from a few towns over – Jesse, he’s called – signs on to work part-time, mostly for the second half of the day. He’s been a barista before so the training is minimal, but it still changes the flow of things. He’s a charming guy and the regulars take to him easy enough.

It’s you who is distracted.

One morning, Joel comes in as expected. Jesse is working, too, trying to clock some extra hours this week.

Joel is on the phone in line, his attention somewhere else. He’s frowning, a deep crease between his brows as he waits in line. All it would take to smooth it away is the press of your thumb.

You try not to stare and probably fail, but manage to take and make the orders ahead of him without making any mistakes, though your whole body feels alight.

He hangs up right as he gets to the window and sighs, giving you a tired smile.

“Howdy,” he says. You set his coffee down in front of him and he pulls out a ten-dollar bill instead of a five.

“Joel –” you say, but he interrupts you.

“My brother called and said he needs breakfast,” Joel grumbles. “Y’got any of Tess’s bear claws?”

Right, they work together, you remember. He’s mentioned Tommy in passing.

“I think so, just hold on a sec.”

“Take your time,” Joel says. It sounds like he means it, even though there’s a line behind him and he probably needs to get to work.

You do find a few bear claws in the box Tess gave you early this morning when you stopped by the bakery.

“You’re in luck,” you say, putting it in a paper bag. “Well, Tommy is.”

“Savin’ my ass,” he tells you when you hand it to him. “Thanks, sweetheart.”

The word sends a jolt of lightning through your whole body. He doesn’t even seem to realize he’s said it but your world shifts slightly on its axis. Sweetheart.

He turns on his heel before you can give him change for his cash, his phone ringing.

“Jesus, Tommy, I said I’d –”

You let him fade into the distance and smile at your next customer.

“How can I help you?”

A few orders later you end up next to Jesse making some lattes.

“Was that Joel Miller?” Jesse asks. “Before. The guy with the black coffee and bear claw?”

You startle. “Um. It was. How do you –”

“I didn’t know he was a customer here,” Jesse says. “Does he come in a lot?”

You unpack a few more cinnamon buns that Tess gave you this morning. “Yeah, every day.”

“Damn,” he says. “He must really like your coffee.”

“Are you trying to say it’s bad coffee, Jesse?”

He huffs a laugh. “No, boss, ‘course not.” He grinds beans for a few seconds but continues once he’s done, steady hands tamping down the results. “I just know he lives like, a half-hour away. And that there are plenty of coffee shops there, too.”

You narrow your eyes. “How do you know him, Jesse?”

“His daughter, Ellie, is a friend of mine,” he shrugs. “Went over to their house plenty of times in high school.”

“Well. He’s a contractor, right? I bet he has a job out here.”

Jesse clips the espresso into the machine and starts on some milk.

“I’m not saying he doesn’t,” he muses. “I am saying that it takes at least 30 minutes to get here from where he lives.”

It’s silly. You’re half-flattered, half-confused. Yeah, you like Joel, and yeah, you’re pretty sure you’ve been flirting every day for over a month. But you figure it’s convenient for him. Coffee and an ego boost all in one.

But if he’s going out of his way to come to The Zone? Well, maybe it’s not just for the coffee.

“Your coffee is good,” Jesse stresses, seeing the gears in your mind turning. It looks like he’s trying to hide a grin. You need to stop hiring young people who have keen eyes and big mouths.

“I think the ice needs a refill,” you say, snapping back into focus.

“He might be here for something else, too -”

“Go refill the ice.”

He throws up his hands with a smirk. “I’m going!”

7:24 am. You’re on your own again and you’re fucked.

The espresso machine is working perfectly and the early rush has ended. The weather is beyond shitty. Rain falls in sheets and the sky is so dark it feels like the sun didn’t bother to rise. It pounds on the roof and blows in the window every time you open it. The awning does nothing to shield customers as they shout their orders over the wind at you. Your fingers are going numb and your front is damp enough to set your teeth chattering.

Joel’s truck pulls up and – well. You’re fucked. And he’s why.

You’re fucked because you can’t stop thinking about him. You can’t stop thinking about what Jesse said. What Joel said. Sweetheart.

A harmless crush turned into something more intense, something heavy in your stomach. You want him earnestly, fully, with every piece of you.

And you still barely know him. But you want to.

Maybe it’s the weather, maybe it’s the fact that you’re damp and cold and frustrated with your own heart and brain. But you see his truck and you decide to do something about this stupid crush.

You write your phone number on a cup with steady hands and set it aside for Joel. You scrawl on it as neatly as you can: Want to get a drink somewhere else sometime?

It’s a bit of a coward’s way out. You should just ask him, say how you feel to his face. He’d probably like that better, anyway. But, well, this just feels safer. He could ignore it, he could throw it out, he could see it and decide to never come back.

Sweetheart.

Somehow you don’t think he’ll do any of those.

The rain lashes against the window so hard you don’t open it until you see the lonely figure approach. The morning rush has been a morning trickle, a few brave souls venturing out for something from you.

Joel, it seems, is one.

You open the window and are greeted with a spray of mist.

“Gimme a sec,” you tell him. It’s so windy he leans in close to hear you. He’s wearing a jacket that’s ill-suited for the rain, his hair plastered to his forehead. Your fingers twitch with the need to brush it back.

You quickly fill the cup you’ve set aside and pass it to him with two hands so it doesn’t blow over.

“Brave of you,” you say. He’s in the rain and you’re both getting soaked but you want to talk to him desperately. It’s a buzzing need at the front of your brain. “Thought the weather would get you, too.”

“Told you,” he all but yells over the wind with a flash of white teeth. “Shitty coffee at home.”

“Drive safe, Joel,” you tell him. He nods at you and jogs back to the truck, cup in hand. You won’t be able to see if he reads it from here, but you hope so. All you have to do is wait.

And wait.

The rain stops.

You’re still waiting, phone silent.

Sunshine peeks through the clouds with a slightly surreal post-storm glow. A few more folks have made their way to The Zone but today has been slow. The clock ticks slowly towards 3 pm and your phone does not ring.

“Don’t be stupid,” you mutter. “He’s working.”

You step out of the shack and into the slightly humid air, the gravel under your feet shifting wetly. The tables you’d set out this morning are, mercifully, still there, though they’re spattered with rain. You might as well close up now.

You’re bent over the last of the chairs, wiping them down with an old rag. You’re focused, so much so that you don’t pay much attention to the hum of an engine and the crunch of tires behind you.

A door slams but you don’t turn around.

“Sorry,” you call over your shoulder. “We just closed.”

“Shame,” he says.

You whip around and find Joel, hands in his pockets. He’s in a different shirt than this morning and his jeans don’t look soaked. You’re still damp, water stains on your pants and shirt.

“Oh,” you breathe. “Hi, Joel.”

He smirks. “Don’t think I’ve ever seen you outside of that window,” he says, before jutting his chin towards the tables. “Can I help?”

You’re very aware of your whole body all at once. He’s looking at you, drinking you in like you’re his morning cup of coffee.

“Uh, sure,” you say. You want to ask why he’s here but the words won’t come. “They go in there, in the little closet on the right.” You point to the open door to the shack.

He dips his chin low just once and then crosses the distance between you in three big strides. He grabs the chair closest to you. The t-shirt he’s wearing shows his arms and you feel what he’s just said – it’s weird to be in the same space like this. You’re outside but he feels so big.

Joel’s arms flex and you swallow, following him with another chair. He stacks his in the right place and holds a hand out for yours.

“What did you write on it?” he asks, casually.

The words don’t totally register. “What?”

He doesn’t answer. His arms are crossed, brow furrowed. Your mouth goes dry.

“On my cup. This mornin’.” He keeps his gaze on yours and for some reason, you can’t look away.

“Oh – you, you didn’t see?”

He shakes his head. “Was rainin’, remember? Got smudged before I got in my truck.”

“Right.”

You tear yourself away and leave him standing there. Maybe you should just lie.

But then you think about the way his eyes crinkle at the corners when you make him laugh, and how he asks you how you are and how he brought his daughter here and how he tips and how he drives all this way for your – for you.

Joel waits, his footsteps the only indication he’s followed you.

You turn around.

“I wrote my phone number,” you say. “And I asked you on a date.”

The corner of his mouth pulls up and you think he’s…blushing?

He rubs a hand over his beard and you hope he’s hiding a smile. Your heart is in your throat, beating so loud you worry that he can hear it. All of your bravado sinks into the damp ground at your feet. Maybe you’ve read this totally wrong. Maybe he’s just a nice guy, maybe your coffee is just really good and your employees are fucking with you. He’s here to let you down easy, to tell you he’s not even available, not interested, not –

“Alright,” Joel says. He walks towards you and tugs his phone from his back pocket. “I’ll take that number.”

Oh.

He hands it over and you type it in, heart jackhammering in your chest. But you watch his face, see the quirk of his mouth and his blush and it makes you brave.

“And the date?” you ask, giving it back. Your fingers brush and your heart keeps pounding but your nerves take a sharp turn away from doubt and towards excitement.

“Well, you gonna ask again?”

You both seem to have found your footing with whatever this is. The flirt in him is back full force, and he’s looking at you in that way of his. You want to know all of his expressions. There is so much to learn.

“Are you going to say yes?”

“S’why I came back,” he admits. “Figured you’d be closin’. Hoped you’d be free.”

“So you could read the cup?”

Joel takes the other two chairs and heads for the door again. You trail him. God, his arms are distracting.

“Most of it,” he says. “Couldn’t make out the last few numbers, though.”

“Well, once we’re done here, I’m free. If you wanted to go on a date with me.”

Joel turns and you’re in the small space at the same time, your chests almost pressed together. You must smell like sweat and stale coffee but you watch as Joel inhales, eyes on yours.

“I do,” he says.

It would be so easy to kiss him, a quick, chaste press of your lips to see what he tastes like.

His pupils dilate and you sway into him for a breath before you realize what you’re doing and step back outside.

You take a deep breath of fresh air. “Great.”

He rubs the back of his neck with one hand and you head for the tables.

“Y’know,” he says. “Ellie’s been on my ass about this.”

You laugh, high and bright. “Has she?”

“That girl ain’t capable of missin’ an opportunity to stick her nose in,” he grumbles, but it’s affectionate.

“Well, I think she’s smart,” you goad.

“Yeah,” he agrees. “Reckon she is.”

Joel’s brows furrow and he takes a few quick steps into your space, so close the tips of your shoes almost touch.

“Oh,” you breathe. “Hi.”

“Hold still,” he says. He reaches for your face slowly, slow enough that you could pull away but you don’t. He brushes something from your cheek with the pad of his thumb.

“Grounds.” His voice is a little hoarse.

“Thanks,” you breathe.

He smirks but the flush creeping up his neck tells you he’s not wholly unaffected. It makes you feel…it just makes you feel.

Joel Miller likes you.

“Well, don’t just stand there,” you say.

His eyes widen slightly and he leans in just a little but you slide out of his space with a grin.

“The sooner we finish up the sooner I can buy you a drink.”

Joel laughs, loud and full. “Oh, how generous of you.”

“You’re very lucky,” you say.

“I agree,” he drawls. He taps your chin with one knuckle.

His eyes sparkle and he smiles, looking luminous in the post-storm sunshine. You see a flash of a future – watching him drink coffee in a kitchen instead of through the window of The Zone. Your hands meeting over a shared table, fingers tangling, that smile directed at you in the morning light.

Giddiness rises in your throat and spills out of you in a delighted laugh of your own. Joel just grins.

“So,” he says. “Where’re you takin’ me?”

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

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fluff

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ang3l0fthursday · 6 months ago

Text

“Take care of me?”

sub!matt sturniolo x Fem!reader

part 2

matt is blue

reader is pink

word count: 1k

author notes: please let me know if i missed anything + i’m new to this! i welcome any feedback as long as you’re not mean about it!

i open my eyes, the sunset gleaming just right through matt’s bedroom window. i stretch my arms out, accidentally bumping my knuckles on the bed frame, right after i hear my hands hit the bed frame i here shuffling outside the door before it opens, revealing my boyfriend matt, he was wearing sweatpants, a black t shirt and his hair was tousled from filming whatever it was him and his brothers had gone and recorded.

“hi ma, did i wake you?”

“no baby you didn’t just- just coincidental timing i guess” i say while letting out a yawn.

matt turns towards his desk, throwing off his shirt. As he does so i admire the way his arms and shoulders move

god he looks so good.

“what’d you do while i was gone mama?”

matt walks towards the bed, pressing his knee down onto the mattress and making his way over to me, laying his cheek down on my stomach, his hand going to trace shapes on my hip.

“not a lot. i fell asleep about thirty minutes after you guys left”

my hands card through his soft brown hair

before speaking again. “come here baby”

matt made his way up to me, looking down slightly from the angle he layed at. my hands immediately grabbed his face, bringing his face down too me. his lips met mine.his beautifully soft lips.

matt moaned into the kiss, i felt him harden against my thigh.

i pushed him up by his shoulders.

“matty do you think- uhm. that you can just take care of me tonight ?”

he smiled, “ofcourse.”

he pecked me one last time before slowly undressing me, starting with my sweatpants, slowly moving them down my legs while looking up at me. Next he went for my shirt.

i heard his breath hitch when he saw i wasn’t wearing a bra

“god you’re so pretty”

i giggled before he removed my panties and flipped us over.

“matt?”

“i wanna try something new tonight is that okay?”

“okay” i smile at him

“tell me to stop and i will okay?” he pecked my lips before laying down

i gave him a confused expression, then he started moving me up to hover above his face.

oh.

he looked up at me to look for anything sign of a no

i simply smiled, as did he when he saw my response to his worries

his hands wrapped around my thighs, bringing me just above his mouth, i felt his hot breath against my core

holy fuck.

his toungue managed its way to my clit. swirling in shapes i couldn’t identify

“fuck- matt oh my god”

he hummed in response, the vibrations traveling straight through me.

i moaned, moving to rest forward on the bed frame

i tried so hard to conceal my moans so neither chris or nick would hear but it was so hard with the way matts toungue traveled through my folds.

all of the sudden i was hit with a new sensation, matt’s toungue slipped inside of me at the same time his fingers fumbled with my clit.

“fuck! matt- oh my god! fuck that feels so good- d-don’t stop!”

he hummed again, his vacant hand moved behind me

i slightly peeked back to see he was massaging the tent in his pants

“fuck matty you can’t even focus on just me can you?”

he removed himself slightly, his fingers still making circles on my clit, to say “i’m sorry mama i can’t help it sometimes. you’re just so beautiful”

as he reattached himself i felt everything grow tighter. his toungue moved faster inside and on my clit. everything started to feel like it was coming together inside of me. the knot in my lower tummy slowly coming undone

“holy shit matt- i’m gonna- fuck!”

before i could finish my sentence my orgasm crashed over me like a tsunami.

my hips started rocking back and forth, riding myself through my high.

as i felt my orgasm slowing down, i also felt matt start to slow down

“one more baby, one more can you do that for me?”

“of course mama” he beamed that beautiful smile of his up at me before licking a stripe through my folds,my jaw going slack and my eyebrows knitting together

“holy shit matt!”

the though of nick or chris’s hearing me had completely slipped my mind at the moment. it only felt like me and matt existed.

i already felt my second orgasm approaching when all of the sudden matt grunted before flipped us over, my ass landing on the pile of pillows i had earlier napped on and my back pressing against the bed frame

“holy shit!” my left hand carding through his soft hair, gripping only slightly. i don’t wanna hurt my boy of course.

my right hand made its way behind me to grip the bed frame.

i noticed matt’s hips starting to thrust down onto the mattress, faster and faster

at the sight of that the cord in my stomach suddenly snapped, my hips thrusting back and forth to once again. matt helped my ride out my orgasm flicking my clit with his tongue

he pulled his mouth off of me to let out a loud moan, his hips moving up and down on the bed, he gripped at my hips, i pulled him up to rest his head on my chest.

“fuck- fuck fuck ! oh my god!! can i cum mama please?” he looked up at me through his lashes.

how could i ever say no to that?

“ofcourse my sweet boy.”

his face was pressing into my chest, his jaw going slack and his hips stuttered as he wimpered my name.

“fuck! please oh my god!” he panted before slipping his arms under me and he held me tight while working himself through his orgasm

i expected him to stop but he kept going.

“baby don’t overstimulate yourself”

“mmm- fuck!” he thrusted one last time and stopped. he panted against my breasts

“fuck i better go get cleaned up.” he spoke after calming down

“on second thought matty how about i take care of you too.”

#sub matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #sturniolo triplets

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augustinewrites · 2 years ago

Note

what are reader’s thoughts about gojo’s black shirt look (similar to what we see in jjk 221) aka what does she think of that bod (＾▽＾)

afternoons were busy, in your experience. the school was awake and alive with energy, bodies moving to and fro as they worked through the day's tasks.

at this time, just after lunch, people typically stopped by your office. whether it was megumi stopping by for a reprieve from his larger than life friends, shoko coming to drag you out for a late lunch, or gojo coming to sprawl himself out on your couch.

so when the sun is high in the sky and no one has come to bother you, you're a little concerned.

when you inquire principal yaga about this, he says he'd last seen nanami headed towards the training grounds. naturally, that's the first place you go. surely he can help you round up your students and their other teacher.

when you arrive at the training grounds, you're surprised to see the first and second year students gathered there, including shoko, watching something just out of your periphery.

"what are you guys doing?" you ask, catching shoko's attention.

she simply gestures to the main area. "sight-seeing."

"sight-seeing?" you frown. "this is the training grounds."

"i know."

you follow her line of sight, curious to see what's gotten everyone's attention.

oh.

the summer breeze combined with the afternoon sun seems to have prompted nanami and gojo to shed a few layers of clothing as they sparred. nanami's abandoned his blazer, the sleeves of his blue dress shirt rolled up to his elbows, and the topmost buttons undone.

gojo's thrown his jacket aside, leaving him in a nicely fitted black t-shirt.

wordlessly, you lower yourself to sit next to shoko.

with his loose-fitting uniform, it was easy to forget how brawny your fiancé was. now you could see everything. broad shoulders tapering down to a trim waist and long legs.

he's handling himself in hand-to-hand combat against nanami with ease, footwork practiced and posture immaculate. his body is tight, muscular, rigid. the tension of his toned biceps just right as he swings at the blond. he smirks when it connects and the sorcerer is knocked backward a few steps. it's horribly attractive.

"hey," shoko interrupts your daydreaming when she nudges you. "did you need something?"

you're too busy tracking a drop of sweat rolling down the side of gojo's throat to recall. "i don't remember."

you can't really focus when he's panting like that, chest heaving and tongue darting out to glide across his bottom lip. he grunts with the effort of deflecting a hit, his muscles flexing as he maneuvers his torso to avoid a follow up. when his shirt rides up, you absolutely don't think about where that white trail of hair below his navel leads, heat pooling in your gut as--

"why aren't you both working?"

you both jump as if you'd been caught doing something illegal as principal yaga steps in front of you, arms crossed.

"sorry, sir," you apologize, bowing your head as your face heats up.

_____

gojo is equal parts confused and aroused when he steps into your office and you immediately lock the door behind him. this may or may not have been the beginning of a fantasy of his.

“noticed you oogling me earlier,” he smirks. then he pauses, thinking. “or is it ogling? am i saying it right?”

“satoru?”

“yeah babe?”

“shut up.”

he's half convinced this is a fantasy when you grab the front of his shirt and pull him close, hungrily pressing your lips to his.

he goes to lift them hem of his shirt up, but you stop him, muttering,

keep it on.

well, he thinks as you trail kisses down the column of his throat.

if you say so.

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jjk x reader #gojo fluff #jjk fluff #keeping up with the fushigojos: extended cut!

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hotxcheeto · 1 year ago

Note

im begging for a fic with ellie about tribbing i don't even care about the plot at this point i just an ellie fic with scissoring

━ 𝐁𝐀𝐃 𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐀, 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 ?

𝙥𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜(𝙨) - Ellie Williams x Fem!Reader

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 - Cursing, ex gf!ellie, angst here and there, SMUT, tribbing, kissing/make out session, lowkey toxic behavior, mentions and situations with alcohol, both ellie and reader are tipsy, party environment in the first 1/2, top!ellie, bottom!reader

𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙤𝙛𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 ? - Yeah/Nope

𝙖𝙪𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙧'𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚 - ehhehehehehe i love olivia rodrigo so i had to bruh REQUESTS ARE OPEN NOW!

REBLOG MY WORK! I WORK HARD & IT'S APPRECIATED!!

Music bumped in the room on the other side of the wall that supported the upper cabinet that held your head. The smell of sweat, alcohol and cigarettes filled up the small kitchen to the brim while a few people laughed and chugged the concoction in the punch bowl that sat on the corner countertop.

Other than the patrons drinking themselves into a very horrible morning that was soon to come, there was a couple making out against the fridge. Bothering anyone that wanted to drink something other than what the party host called, 'the ultimate punch to the gut' that the college boys were frothing over.

You decided on something else that you'd scavenged from the liquor cabinet that had been broken into earlier in the night. The liquid a pink color, bubbling from the continued sloshing in your red solo cup that was lazily hanging from your hand.

Your head felt dizzy at all the uproar in the room, the only thing keeping your two feet flat on the ground was the girl in front of you. Chasing your gaze with her head that way with each direction you looked, her eyes weren't far behind to follow.

"I told you I'm done, Ellie. I'm sick of your shit." You slurred slightly, having swayed your hips on far too many people and had too many drinks to care about how you currently sounded.

Or looked for that matter, lipstick smudged across your lips and even had made its way off your mouth. Eye makeup mirroring the appearance of the lower half of your face and all the while your dress was halfway up your thighs from her prying and your continuous attempts to stop yourself from making a decision you'd regret.

"You're a fakeass bitch, y'know that?" You pointed at her, the manicure that she had in fact paid for practically mocking her as she grabbed your hand and pushed it down, holding it in her own.

"Don't be like that, babe." You rolled your eyes at just the sound of her voice, suddenly hearing it and comparing it to the biggest annoyance in the world. "You were like that first, or did you already discard the lap warmer you were entertaining when I walked in?"

Right, the bottle blonde with the bad roots.

"Y/n..." She dragged out your name with that excruciating tone that made you feel like you'd done something bad. "Answer me Ellie."

She opened and closed her mouth for a second, not meeting your eyes before shrugging her shoulders. The black fabric of her long sleeve button up going with, pissing you off even more as the realization set in that she'd worn your favorite of her nice shirts and even undone the top few buttons you always undid for her.

"She's one of Abby's friends, fuck Y/n, I don't even know her name I promise." You scoffed, leaning your head back on the cupboard, looking over at the drunk guys challenging each other to drink a full cup of the punch once again.

"You piss me off." You rubbed your eyes, not caring of the slight burn that your lashes caused on your irises. "I know. C'mon, I said sorry." She said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"You sent me fifty-eight text messages, I don't remember there being a 'sorry' in there though." "Babe-" Ellie stopped when she realized you were in fact not paying any attention to her now, looking out the kitchen window, but it was too dark to actually see anything past the glass.

"C'mon... let's just go home, I'll give you the best apology fucking ever." The alcohol really boosted her confidence as she said this, Ellie moving to kiss up your neck as you thought, her thumb coming to wipe the smeared lipstick away.

"I promise, babe." You wanted to fall against her and give in, just how you wanted when you seen her earlier eye-fucking you from across the room. Fucking hell you were such a gullible mess.

"Ellie..." "Can't tell me you don't miss my fingers..." "Shh!"

You tried covering her mouth but it was no use as she just laughed, looking down at your pretty eyes while you tried to shut her up.

"I don't, mine work just fine, actually." Such fakeness followed those syllables, even you cringed slightly on the inside as you spoke them.

"Huh, so you're lying to me now too?"

"No..." Yes.

"You're a bad liar." She then whispered, impossible to hear her if you had not been so close to her mouth. "You're a dickhead." You then replied, giving her a smile while pulling back.

That was nothing to her, leaning forward despite your unwillingness just earlier, but something about the way you met her lips wondered if you changed your mind.

She tasted like the shitty alcohol mix those dudes were chugging along with soaked in Chapstick and the two combined creating a rush of memories that came trickling back. Those pictures soon invading your mind all the same, fingers wrapping around her belt loops before you got a chance to stop them.

And in the haze of the smoky kitchen you broke your promise to each of your friends promising you wouldn't go back. Tugging her closer and allowing her to rest her hands beneath your ass, holding the backs of your thighs to get impossibly closer.

She was your everything and nothing, the mess stuck between your floorboards that you could never fully get rid of. Ellie knew she wasn't going anywhere, she couldn't and wouldn't be replaced and it was comforting, smirking as she began pushing herself against you and hitting your hips against the counter.

"M'not-" A kiss. "-gonna fuck you-" Another kiss. "-here." You finished, her tongue invading your mouth as soon as the final breath passed your lips. "Why not?" "Seriously?" Ellie rested her forehead against your own, huffing like a child until you tapped her phone that was in her back pocket.

"You can start your apology by buying the ride home, 'kay?"

God, the things she did to see you as you were now, laid back on the bed with your dress pulled up and your head resting against her pillows. Thighs spread all for her while you stared up and watched her unbuckle her belt and unzip her jeans. Wanting nothing more than to have her between your thighs

You just looked so gorgeous in the lamplight, the yellow glow kissing your skin and she moved to kiss it as well. Wanting just as much as the inanimate object had gotten in the past few moments.

"M'gonna be so mad at myself in the morning." You grumbled playfully, Ellie watching you grin at your own prediction, returning the smile while throwing her shirt away and exposing her torso for you to run your eyes over. "But I don't even care." You concluded.

Your nail ran along the light bulge her muscles created on her arms, eyes fluttering shut while her lips made their home on your neck. Jaw becoming her favorite place to hover, smirking against your flesh when you giggled that it had tickled. Looking at the way her boxers met her lower back, little dimples just barely shadowed.

"Ellie?" She pulled back to look at you, cradling your face in her hands.

"Yeah?"

"Unzip me, I wanna feel you."

She didn't have to be told twice, helping you from your dress before tossing it to find the next morning. Your undergarments going with, swept away like they were stolen by the ocean. Your body running against hers as if you were the waves and she were the rocks, though less jagged then you'd like to admit out loud.

Her curves were softer than you remembered despite feeling them just days ago, along with her freckled skin.

"I want you." She whispered, mouth brushing against the shell of your ear.

Your friends were so gonna put you in time out.

Her boxers fell down her legs and yours wrapped around her hips, waiting for the agonizing thumping of your arousal to be put at ease. The discomfort growing while her fingers ran along your nipple, warm breath fanning your face as you both watched her hand run along your boob.

It was like the air paused along with your movements, sucking in a gasp as she played with your breast. Hand trickling down between your legs just to barely tease you.

"You wanna feel me?" You nodded at her question, moving your head up and down again and again while she lined herself up with you. Fingers lightly, just barely, brushing against your little, yet swollen, clit.

"Need to hear you say it again, Y/n."

"I wanna feel you, Ellie."

And before you knew it she was humping herself against you, not even attempting to muffle your sounds which you'd given up caring about. Grabbing at her back and holding her as close to you as possible while her clit bumped and rubbed against your own.

It felt like fireworks, despite having done this just over a million times. Burying your face in her neck while she fucked into you over and over, promising her love silently while whispering things that would make a catholic mother weep.

"Missed you so much..." You turned your head, meeting her eyes as your lips did the same. "Me or this?" You asked, a choked whimper following when she became rougher at the sound of your falsely innocent question. Her hand trapping your leg on the bed as she spread you apart.

"Both, but mainly you." She played off, her other hand softly wrapping around your neck. "I would hope." You giggled, mouth dropping agape as her pace picked up. The whole bed rocking back and forth while simultaneous creaks that were sure to piss off her neighbors for the next however long she spent on top of you.

"Oh fuck, El... fuck please..." You squeezed and clawed at her, sure to leave red marks on her pale skin for her to be teased about when she went to the gym. Cunts grinding back and forth creating a heavenly feeling you just couldn't describe, choking out noise after noise.

"El... m'gonna- fuck I- fuck..." She kissed along the column of your throat, squeezing just the slightest. "I know." From your hole to your bundle of nerves, in your slightly inebriated state it felt like too much.

Sounds you weren't aware you could make falling from your mouth, and you were sure you heard her lightly grunt. Hips stuttering as you'd begun to jerk against her pussy, letting out a yelp while you trickled into your orgasm.

A mix of both you and her dripping down your ass, but it didn't stop you from trying to meet her thrusts. Crying a bit when she slammed you back down, kissing you and then down your chest.

"Leah's gonna be so pissed at me." You huffed, staring up at the ceiling as she peeled herself off of you and fell to the side. Giving you the option of moving to lay with her or finding your way the hell out of here.

"Who cares? Come ride me." She said, sitting up against her pillows that laid against her headboard. "Seriously?' You tilted your head up to glance at her, giving her your best unimpressed expression.

"What? Can't take it back anyway."

This was a bad idea, right?

"Will you eat me out after?" You asked, tilting your head and then rolling over to make your way up to her. "If you do a good job." She said, setting her hands on your hips.

Fuck it, it's fine.

a/n: YES I KNOW THAT SHE'S MY EX BUT CAN'T TWO PEOPLE RECONNECT I ONLY SEE HER AS A FRIEND! BIGGEST LIE I EVER SAID.

REQUESTS OPEN

#ellie williams smut #ellie the last of us #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams #tlou2 #ellie williams headcanons #ellie williams tlou #ellie smut #tlou smut #nevy writes

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kaleidohscopic · 6 months ago

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SWEET — BBH

PAIRING: baekhyun x female reader SUMMARY: it's one thing to run into the guy you maybe, used to have a little bit of a thing for at your mutual friends' birthday party. it's another thing to find out he maybe, used to have a little bit of a thing for you too. GENRE: friends (ish) to lovers! au, romance, a hint of smut, some pining if you squint WARNINGS: swearing, alcohol consumption, jenkai (humour me), wayyyy too much sexual tension, it gets a little hot and heavy towards the end but nothing super explicit (bc idk how to write that stuff sorry!), general mature content and themes WORD COUNT: 4.4k NOTE: super self-indulgent w barely any plot or characterisation (basically four thousand something words of foreplay lol), i saw that video of baek at one of the lonsdaleite stops unbuttoning his shirt and it drove me a little loopy ngl...

The last time you had seen Byun Baekhyun was two years ago.

Graduation. Gowns. Bouquets. There was probably a photo of the two of you, along with the rest of your cohort, sitting around somewhere in the depths of your camera roll, fresh-faced and eager to take on the exciting new world outside of 3000-word essays and 9 am tutorials. Four years taking variations of the same courses and bitching about the same tutors meant you were far from strangers, but sadly, the friendship had dwindled once you’d left the classrooms for good — something you had been just a little gutted about. These days, his appearances in your life were rare, save for the times he’d come up in conversation with the friends you both shared back in the day, or his sporadic likes on your instagram posts.

Except now, of course, as you watched him climb up the stairs to the rooftop bar, gift bag in one hand and suit jacket in the other.

“Happy birthday!” he beamed, enveloping your best friend in a hug. The fabric of his shirt strained against the movement of his arms, and you caught a whiff of his delicious woody cologne as he approached.

You had known there’d be a possibility he’d show up today. This year, Jennie had made the enlightened decision to throw a joint celebration with her boyfriend, and obviously that entailed inviting all of his friends — which honestly, wasn’t even that many extra heads since Jongin only ever spoke to the same eight people. You’d seen Baekhyun’s name on the guest list that you had helped her put together, and seen it again listed under the ‘going’ tab of the event, but having the real deal in front of you was another experience entirely.

Crisp white button down with the sleeves rolled up, fitted slacks, and just a glimpse of his toned chest peeking out from where the top few of his shirt buttons were undone.

He looked fucking good.

Even better than he did two years ago.

Jennie squeezed him back with just as much fervour. “So glad you could make it! Jongin’s been stuck to my side all night with no one to talk to, he’s going to be so happy you’re here.”

He pulled back with a chuckle, and it was then that he finally laid eyes on you, seated next to the birthday girl, holding matching martinis, and doing your best not to look like you had been shamelessly checking him out for the entire 45 seconds since he had arrived. His eyes widened slightly with recognition as your name left his mouth.

“You haven’t forgotten each other, right?” Jennie laughed. The descent of his eyes down the length of you was quick, but not careless, and heat flared in your body all the same. When his gaze returned back to your face, the beginnings of an appreciative smile were shaping the curve of his mouth.

“Not yet, I hope,” he answered her, but his eyes were still on you. “Nice seeing you again. You look good.”

“So do you, Baekhyun,” you replied, because it was the truth. His smile only grew.

Jennie tipped back the rest of her martini and bade the both of you a hasty farewell, saying something about fixing up the photo zone as she hurried towards the other end of the rooftop. A few of the girls, too excited about the open bar, had knocked the cushions onto the ground, and were doing a poor job of rearranging them back on the wooden swing.

He slid into her now-vacant seat, elbows resting on the bar counter, giving you an excellent view of the shape of his forearms and the veins that adorned it.

“You’re not going to have that?” he asked, nodding at the sad little olive that sat all alone at the bottom of your empty glass.

“Not a fan of the saltiness,” you answered, and offered it to him. You watched as he plucked the garnish stick out of your fingers and put the olive in his mouth with no hesitation, eyes lingering a little too long on the movement of his throat as he swallowed it. “I like sweet things better.”

“Yeah, I remember,” he chuckled. “You used to only ever drink vodka cranberries.”

Suddenly, you were twenty-one again, peering through the cafe window and getting a little too giddy at the thought of meeting up outside of the stuffy tutorial classroom to work on the project you had both been assigned to. You’d be lying through your teeth if you said that a crush on Baekhyun was something you never entertained throughout your four years of university together. And maybe it had been reciprocated, for the briefest of times, just after that joint presentation on data structures, where the thought of stepping over from friendly more-than-acquaintances into something more had crossed your mind enough times for you to lose count. There had been something there, or at the very least a hint of something, in the nights spent crammed into a tiny library booth meant only for one person, poring over stale and tedious papers on algorithm organisations in each other’s company.

But nothing had happened. He hadn’t made a move, and neither had you, laden with the fear of rejection that was so indicative of youth. And maybe that had been a huge misplay on your part, because a few weeks after wrapping up the project that had brought you together, he was at your faculty’s monthly pub crawl, introducing you to his new girlfriend, who had actually asked him out just the day before.

Safe to say that had been the end of that. You were not the type to homewreck.

“How long has it been? I feel like I haven’t seen you since — god, it must have been graduation?”

“Something like that,” you replied through a smile. “I still have the photos on my phone.”

“So do I,” he said, flashing you a boyish grin. Then, as if doubting the accuracy of his own words, he promptly pulled out his phone and began scrolling towards the top, brows furrowed with determination. It was a few seconds later that he found what he was looking for, turning the screen towards you with a triumphant noise.

The picture had been taken outside the ceremony hall, set against the familiar sea of graduation gowns, but that was the only familiar thing about it. In the foreground stood just you and Baekhyun, not stiffly posing for the camera as you had been in all of the group shots that existed on your phone, but turned towards each other, faces bursting with elated smiles. Neither of you looked to be aware that there was even a camera on you. The you in the photo had your mouth half open in the tell-tale way it always did when you were about to laugh at the ridiculously corny jokes he loved to crack. His eyes were crinkled at the corners, partially from the glare of the sun overhead — the weather had been phenomenal for the usual gloominess of May — and partially in delight at your reaction, having cracked said joke.

“I’ve never seen this one before. Did you forget to Airdrop this to me on the day?” you asked, a joking accusation colouring your voice.

“My mum only sent it to me a whole month later. I didn’t even know she had taken these,” he said, zooming in to better see the expressions on your upturned faces. “We look so happy here,” he added, voice tinged with a hint of nostalgia.

“And young,” you agreed, but not without a sigh. The you of two years ago had yet to know the pains of having seven different bills to pay every month, and watching the money trickle out of your bank account like water from a leaking tap.

He gave you a gentle, teasing nudge with his elbow. “We’re not that old now. We could definitely still pass as twenty somethings.”

“That’s probably because we are still actually twenty somethings,” you countered with a laugh.

There was an unprecedented ease with which you fell into conversation with Baekhyun. Despite the considerable gap of silence between now and the last time you had seen him, there was nothing in his demeanour or your own that indicated just how much time had passed. It was rather comforting to see a face from your university days, and even better that that face was still as gorgeous as ever.

You watched as he flicked through a few more photos from the day, mostly of him and his friends from university — one of whom was the other main event of tonight — until he landed on a picture of him with his girlfriend. You recognised the photo, seeing as you had been the one who offered to take it. He had an arm around her waist while she carried a huge bouquet with a teddy bear sitting atop the arrangement.

“Didn’t I help you order that thing?” you asked, pointing to the flowers in her hand. He hummed in agreement, but didn’t say much else, scrolling through to the next photos with his parents, which had also been taken by you. They stood on either side of him, beaming with pride, and then there were a few after that with his girlfriend as well, the four of them all standing together and looking picture-perfect.

Perhaps the you of today would have chosen differently, found the balls to ask him out first — because what was the use in sitting and waiting around for the guy to make the first move? — and maybe you’d be the one in the photo instead, smiling up at the camera, an integral part of the family portrait. Maybe he’d be running his fingers across the inner curve of your wrist, instead of along the rim of the gin and tonic he had just ordered.

“She couldn’t make it today? Or was she not invited?” you asked, having not seen anyone walk in behind him. Although you hadn’t been paying much attention to anything else since he arrived, and if she had been here, you doubted she’d be all too pleased with how close your heads were, even if he was just showing you through his camera roll. With that in mind, you drew back slightly, just enough to catch the expression on his face twisted with an odd sort of surprise.

After a second or so, it melted into an easy-going grin.

“We broke up a while ago. A month or two after graduation, actually.”

Oh.

You and your big mouth.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know — I shouldn’t have —”

“Don’t be, it’s fine,” he reassured, waving off your clumsy apologies. “Things just didn’t work out and we weren’t right for each other. It was a pretty amicable break, all things considered. But now, I get to sleep however I want in my own bed, so I really can’t complain,” he added, fishing another laugh out of you.

“Nothing beats starfishing in your sleep after a long day,” you hummed in agreement. Wednesday nights in your bedroom after a full day of client meetings could attest to that.

Baekhyun took a slow sip, pulling the drink into his mouth with a contemplative carefulness, and weighed up his words before he spoke again.

“What about you? Still with Jinyoung?” he asked, tone light and regarding you with curious eyes. Without meaning to, you let out a groan, and his left eyebrow quirked with interest.

“Don’t even go there,” you half-grimaced, reminded of the fling you had towards the end of fourth year with the business major. He was pretty, and had been nice enough, but by the fifth time he blew off spending time with you so that he could track the world stock indexes, it had become pretty clear that the two of you were on different paths in life. The sex was okay, but it had not been enough to warrant any more than a few late night rendezvous. For all you knew, he was probably now a very successful investment banker with 90 hour work weeks and making a shit-load of money you could only dream about having.

You sighed, drumming your fingers against the counter. “Let’s just say, he was more interested in looking at his dividend yields than he was in me.”

Baekhyun’s gaze flickered over the rest of you again, taking in the ridges of your collarbone and the soft curve of your waist, the touch of his eyes hovering above your skin like a tangible thing. You tried your best to look unaffected, forcing yourself to remain still under the weight of his stare despite the way it was melting you down to your bones.

“He definitely did not have his priorities in order,” he said, once his eyes ended their journey and returned back to your face. “You’re much nicer to look at.”

His words settled beneath your skin, pulling a sweet warmth to your cheeks that slowly radiated through the rest of your body. You watched as his mouth curved around the rim of his glass again, and followed the path of the drink down the length of his throat.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were flirting with me.”

He rewarded you with a sly smile.

“Then maybe you don’t know any better.”

Christ. Those were definitely bedroom eyes.

Your lips parted again, though you had little idea as to the words which were preparing to come out of them. Forming coherent and decent thoughts proved to be a great struggle when he looked like he was undressing you with his eyes. His tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip, and you swore you could have crumpled right then and there if it hadn’t been for the bar stool underneath you.

“Baekhyun, you’re finally here,” said a giggly Jongin, suddenly appearing between the two of you with Jennie in tow.

The tension from seconds earlier dissipated as quickly as it had formed.

Someone (the birthday boy) had evidently made good use of the open bar to shed the self-imposed shell that came with introversion before the arrival of his friend. “I’m so, so happy to see you. We need to do some shots right now,” he said, now all serious, leaning over to peer at the drinks menu that he himself had signed off on.

Baekhyun was the first to break eye contact, turning to flash Jongin a fond smile. “Sounds like the best idea you’ve ever had,” he said, before downing the rest of his gin and tonic.

The birthday girl requested tequila shots, and the bartender was quick to supply, lining up four glasses and filling them with the clear alcohol that was a recurring character in all your worst hangover episodes. You passed them around, but not before turning back around to the bar for one more thing.

“And a vodka cranberry, please,” you added, catching the amused smile Baekhyun threw your way.

“For old time’s sake.”

It was approaching the early hours of the morning when the remainder of the party retired to the hotel suite Jennie had booked for the night. One of her chill, moody, late-night R&B playlists had been queued up and was playing softly on the speaker system in the living room — she had a playlist for every conceivable mood and situation — and you could just make out the melody of a Daniel Caesar song, quiet and soothing against the nighttime.

“Okay, you win,” Baekhyun conceded with amusement, sitting up to grab the soju bottle from your outstretched hand. “I’ve never had someone throw up on me, at least not on the first date.” He settled back against the pillows, bringing the bottle to his lips to take a small, slow sip.

“Thanks, but it’s a victory I’d rather not have. There’s no pride in knowing I’m the only person I know to have a guy spew all over my shoes within ten minutes of meeting me,” you said, leaning back and letting your hands sink into the plush comforter.

Some thirty or so minutes ago, you had found yourself in one of the smaller rooms of the suite, sitting across from Baekhyun with nothing but a few inches of egyptian cotton separating you. All night, you had felt his presence, whether it was the light brush of his warm fingers across the bare skin of your shoulder to grab your attention, or the weight of his stare from across the rooftop bar while you posed for pictures with Jennie and the rest of the girls. He had infiltrated your senses, occupying his own little space in the corner of your consciousness. Right now, having the whole of him so unobstructed before you, being the sole focus of his attention within the four walls of this small room — it was obvious that the alcohol wasn’t the only thing bringing a heady warmth to your face.

He levelled you with a careful look, and instead of handing the bottle back to you as he had done for the last thirty minutes, he set it onto the nightstand beside the bed with a soft clink. You raised a quizzical eyebrow at him.

“I think you should probably slow down,” he said, catching the curious tilt of your head. “Wouldn’t want you to do something you regret.”

You let a coy smile turn the corners of your mouth upward, shifting your weight off your hands and leaning towards him ever so slightly. “Trust me, I know my limits,” you said, and moved to grab the bottle.

The hand you placed on the top of his thigh to steady yourself as you reached over him was deliberate, and you failed to hide the deepening of your smile when you felt the muscles flex beneath your fingers. You also didn’t miss the dip of his eyes below the neckline of your dress as you hovered over him, only pulling back once the cool glass of the bottleneck was firmly in your grasp. The glimmer in his eyes, previously light and boyish, had darkened imperceptibly.

You were playing a dangerous game, and you both knew it.

Beyond the door, Jennie’s playlist had changed to something a little more sultry, Kehlani’s honeyed voice now floating among the sounds of the city from below. His gaze remained on you as you raised the bottle to your lips, tilting it back and letting the tartness of the grape soju fill your mouth.

The song wasn’t the only thing that had changed. There was a palpable shift in the room, a simmering heat gradually seeping into the atmosphere, brought on by your brazen touch. Still, he kept a safe distance, giving you the reins and the freedom to dispel the tension you had created.

Which you had absolutely no intention to.

You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth, relishing in the way his eyes immediately left yours to track the movement. “You know,” you began, turning the bottle over in your hands, “I used to have a bit of a thing for you.”

His eyebrows raised with interest, but there was also a hint of surprise layered beneath.

“Third year, that data algorithms project. I thought a lot about asking you out, actually,” you continued, watching as his face slowly took on a smile at your words. A soft laugh escaped those pretty lips, as if he was enjoying some private joke that you weren’t in on. Without meaning to, you leaned in, drawn to the sound, wanting to understand the amusement behind it.

“You wanna know something?” he asked, to which you weren’t sure if you had actually nodded, or if you had only imagined that you did, too preoccupied by the inviting curve of his mouth.

He was all too willing to comply with the unspoken request behind your curious eyes, moving forward at a languid pace, until his lips hovered just over the shell of your ear, not quite touching, but close enough that you could feel the fluttering pull of air with each of his inhales and exhales. You could smell him too, his cologne now infused with the scent of his skin over the course of the evening, smooth and sweet, and much too dizzying.

His cheek brushed yours for a fraction of a second before you registered the conspiratorial whisper in your ear.

“So did I.”

You hadn’t even realised your own eyes had closed until they were fluttering open with his departure from your space. He pulled back, eyes gleaming with a furtive satisfaction like he had just let you in on some big, juicy, forbidden secret. It took a while for your chest to start pulling oxygen back into your lungs again. How he could render you so breathless when he had barely even touched you — you would’ve been embarrassed if not for the foggy warmth circling your head and radiating throughout the rest of your body, leaving you oblivious to everything but the sheer force of how much you wanted him.

He reached for the bottle, now almost empty, and you fought the flinch when you felt his fingers close around your hand. This time, you didn’t complain when he removed it from your grasp and set it back on the nightstand. The warmth of his hand did not leave yours, flipping it over to trail his fingers lightly across your knuckles.

“These are pretty,” he murmured, thumbing at the rings decorating your fingers. You could only manage a noncommittal hum in response. His touch had stolen your voice right out of your chest, along with all the rationality usually contained inside your mind, leaving you with nothing but the feeling of your own blood thrumming in your veins, hot and fast beneath your skin.

All night, you had danced around each other, stealing furtive glances and exchanging flirty smiles, carefully toeing around the edge of politeness and propriety. And maybe Baekhyun was just too polite, too respectful, letting you take the wheel and steer tonight in whichever direction you wanted, despite the want that was so clearly etched on his face.

Surely, your face was a mirror of his own. Surely, he could tell.

“Penny for your thoughts?” he asked, looking up at you with heavy-lidded eyes, unfurling your fingers to lace his own through them. The press of his warm skin against yours had you light-headed and almost delirious, but you forced your gaze to stay steady on him while you tried to find your voice again.

“I’m thinking,” you began, low and breathy, “about how you’ve been eye-fucking me this whole night.”

His sharp inhale was unmistakable above the quiet of the room. A meteor could have landed right outside the building and you wouldn’t even have noticed, held captive by his dangerous touch and the hunger flaring in his eyes.

“And,” you continued, “how I’ve been waiting for you to do something about it ever since you shut that door.”

The second after the words left your mouth seemed to stretch across an eternity. You watched as he registered them, transfixed by how his whole body seemed to cloud over with desire, pushing out any remaining trace of restraint.

One moment you were sitting on the bed, revelling in the delicious tension you had created, and the next he had pulled you flush against him. His mouth was on yours, hot and needy, the self-control he had been so meticulously keeping to for the entire night disappearing the instant he felt your lips move against his own. You were no better, hands leaving his to fist desperately at the fabric of his shirt. An airy moan left your throat when his tongue brushed against yours, letting you taste the sweetness you had been imagining ever since you laid eyes on him on the rooftop. He swallowed the sound, the plump flesh of his bottom lip tightening into a pleased smile at your reaction.

Baekhyun pulled away first, lips leaving yours to trail across your cheek and down the side of your neck, where you felt the light graze of his teeth over the skin, and then the wetness of his tongue following the same path. His hands had snaked around you, fingers digging into the curve of your waist, keeping you in place while he nipped at you, drawing stilted gasps out of your parted mouth. When he pulled the flesh into the warmth of his mouth and sucked it to a nice, dark bruise, the heat coiling in the pit of your stomach flared, violent and hungry.

You were going to lose your mind.

“You know, you could just try again,” you managed to get out between heaving breaths. “Ask me out.”

“Would you say yes?” he asked, and you felt his lips shape the words against your skin. They dragged back up the column of your throat, capturing your mouth again with another heated kiss that had your head spinning. He shifted, and your knees came to rest on either side of his leg, the firm muscles of his thigh pressing against the part of you that ached for his touch. In the haze of this moment, you didn’t know much, but you knew you would’ve said yes to absolutely anything to come out of that sweet, tempting mouth.

Still, you played along, letting a devious smile pull the corners of your mouth upwards. “That depends on how tonight goes.”

He drew back slightly, fixing you with a wicked look that held promises he was nothing short of determined to fulfil. You could see yourself reflected in the darkness of his blown-out pupils, flushed and already wrecked just from the attention of his mouth. Anticipation and thrill jolted through you like lightning, zipping through every cell in your body as your mind drifted to what he might have in store behind those enticing eyes.

You weren’t left wondering for long. His hands left your waist and moved to your calf, pushing up the silken fabric of your dress as they slowly crept upwards, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. The brush of his fingers against your inner thigh drew another shuddering breath out of you.

His next words were not unlike an oath.

“Then I’d better make tonight fucking spectacular.”

#baekhyun #exo baekhyun #byun baekhyun #baekhyun x reader #baekhyun smut #exo x reader #baekhyun fanfic #exo smut #baekhyun au #baekhyun fluff #kaleidohscopic works

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am3ricanpsycho420 · 2 months ago

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Cas/reader

Comfort, cuteness and Cas getting the love he deserves

The past couple of weeks have been rough to say the least. Being a Winchester was always like this but this week was particularly hard. This was your first day where you could just relax and sleep all day and eat all the food you wanted. You, Sam and Dean all spent the day lounging around and you loved it, but as much as it was nice there was something missing. That something or rather someone was Castiel. You couldn’t imagine how he felt right now. You knew he felt responsible for the fall and he wasn’t going to take that lightly. For the first time in days you finally sat down, staring at the floor praying to cas for a visit.

“cas I don’t know if you can hear me but please if you can come see me. I know you are hurt and I want to help, I want to be there for you, please just come and see me” you said sighing heavily at the end of your prayer.

Surprisingly you heard that familiar swoosh of wings. Looking up you saw Cas with a bloody lip, scrapes on his face and his hair a mess. Still in his typical trench coat and tie, you smiled softly at him. Without even saying anything you stood up and hugged him.

“I’m so sorry Cas” you mumbled into his neck, your hand going up to his hair to stroke through it. Taking a steph back so you could see his face you put your hands on both sides of his face. “before you can say anything I can’t imagine how you feel and I want to be here for you, please don’t turn me away” you plead with him before he can start.

“I love you y/n”

“I love you too Cas”

Grabbing his hand you lead him over to your bed. Turning him around and helping him take his coat and tie off. “can I take this off” you pointed to his shirt, He nodded, pulling your hand up to the top button. As the buttons came undone you kissed lightly down his chest. Showing him the love he deserves, as you pushed his shirt off his shoulders he seemed uncomfortable.

“Cas what’s wrong? I want to help you”

“My wings are in a lot of pain right now, I dont pull them out a lot and haven’t shown them to many people, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable” he confessed while avoiding eye contact.

“I’m so sorry Cas, if you’re open to it you can show me, I love you and everything about you. If I can help with this I want to”

“Okay just close your eyes while I get them out” doing as he says you adjust away from him and close your eyes.

“Okay you can look now” turning back around you opened your eyes and smiled brightly “Cas, oh my god, they are beautiful” you told him softly. His wings are a beautiful black, and smooth feathers. You had never seen anyone look so beautiful before.

situating yourself so that you are behind him you start massaging his shoulders. Putting your hands on his shoulders, rubbing your thumbs on his upper back. You move your hands to the top of his wings just lightly brushing them, as you do that he tips his head back and groans.

“that feels really good y/n” he said while his breathing got steadily heavier.

“Good, you deserve everything good in the world Cas” you lean forward to kiss his neck lightly while simultaneously moving your hands to rake your hands through his soft wings.

“You are going to get through this, I promise, I will always be here for you my angel” you say before you kiss him softly.

——————

Hiii, I hope you guys like this and I hope I did it justice. Please let me know what you think and any edits/suggestions you have. @marunene thank you for the suggestion<333

#supernatural #castiel my beloved #castiel fluff #castiel fanfiction #castiel fic #castiel supernatural #castiel x reader #castiel smut #supernatural fanfiction #castiel #jimmy novak #misha collins #misha fucking collins #he’s so babygirl #hes so silly #he’s so cute

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20doozers · 5 months ago

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★Expirimenting★

TW: nipple play, a bit of teasing, mostly porn without plot, experimenting, vanilla Georg, sub!bottom Georg, slight edging, hands free orgasm

A/N: I posted this an hour ago and I just noticed I spelled experimenting wrong I’m so sorry😭 I might be dyslexic

Georg huffed as you pushed him onto the bed, his shirt off and his belt being undone by your speedy hands as you caught his lips in a soft kiss, your tongue gently swiping at his lips in a way of asking for entrance. Georg quickly granted the wish with a low grunt as you began to palm him through his jeans, your tongue probing and exploring the inside of his mouth as he laid there beneath you. You and Georg had made a bet and now Georg was suffering his consequences.

It was a late night and nobody was home, bill and Tom were shopping, and Gustav was with his girlfriend. Which meant you and Georg had the house all to yourselves for a few hours. Just enough time for-

“Please..” Georg pleaded, whimpering as he broke the kiss and stared up at you with lust glazed eyes, wanting you to just touch him already. Your hands quickly unzipped his jeans, getting up for just a moment to help him take his jeans off, leaving him in just his boxers. Poor Georg didn’t think it was fair that you got to stay fully clothed and he was the one almost naked, a small pout of protest forming on his lips as you crawled back on top of him as straddled his hips, his back leaned against the headboard and pillows.

“So needy already?” You cooed teasingly, grinding your hips lightly to press against the bulge in his boxers which drew a sweet moan from his pink, pouty lips. He loved when you were dominant, it make him feel all warm and fuzzy inside, not to mention it was a nice change, even if he was a bit vanilla in the bedroom. Yet what Georg didn’t expect was you to stop grinding, earning a quiet whine of protest from him as he opened his eyes to look up at you. Yet the moment he did they fluttered shut with a gasp, the unexpected sensation of your thumb gently brushing over one of his nipples making him shiver.

It felt strange to Georg, your thumb gently rubbing his left nipple as he laid there. He wasn’t sure about how he felt about it, not used to something so.. unusual? He’d never had his nipples played with before, but it felt nice. Your thumb gently brushed back and forth over his left nipple, your other hand pinching at the other small rosy bud of his right nipple. Georg’s moans and soft mewls were unlike any other, sweet and full of eroticism due to how good it felt. His eyes were glossy with lust and arousal, lips parted as pants and soft noises of pleasure fell from them, struggling to keep his eyes open. The poor boy was usually so dominant and stoic but he looked oh so sweet beneath you..

“That feels good, doesn’t it?” You cooed almost teasingly, smirking as he gave a quick nod.

“S-so gut..” He managed to groan out, his eyes fluttering shut as his hips weakly bucked up against yours. Your hands closely ceased movement on his nipples, leaning down to capture one between your lips and lightly tugging at it, earning an almost pornographic moan as his eyes squeezed even tighter shut.

You knew Georg was usually a pretty stoic guy, not ever expressing much besides grunts and groans, but his moans sounded so sweet and full of pleasure. You were almost entranced, basically torturing his nipples as you licked, sucked, tugged, etc. yet you were pulled out of your thoughts by Georg’s whiny voice.

“Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck-“ he chanted, the word ‘fuck’ falling from his lips like some sort of mantra. His head was thrown back and he was basically writhing underneath you as he moaned and mewled.

“Schieß oh- oh sheiße-“ his voice only got higher pitched, as his moans got more and more frequent and the pleasure swirling low in his belly got stronger and stronger.

“Y-y/n.. I think- I think I’m gonna-“ he let out one last loud sound, a mix between a moan and a grunt before he slowly fell quiet, blissfully laying there as quiet whimpers and soft mewls fell from his lips. You sighed and gently pulled away from the swollen bud, marveling at the pink and sensitive looking flesh before looking up at Georg’s blissed out face.

“Already came? I haven’t even gotten your boxers off baby..” you cooed softly, gently trailing kisses from his pecks up his neck and jaw before ending with a sweet kiss on his lips. There was a wet spot in his boxers over the crotch but you didn’t mind, as long as he felt good you didn’t care.

YAYY! I actually kinda like this one, not my fav but I’m pushing a deadline😣 I’m sorry it’s short but the Georg boys need fics too. I haven’t had much motivation to actually finish fish because they usually end up scrapped. Also thank you guys for 200 followers!! I can’t believe I’ve gotten this far in my writing. Love you guys💕

Tags: @itsmealaiah @cosmicck @tomssexdoll @billskeis @madzandmore @cherry-rawr @goreishgorinthgoreofshits @itsangelll

Let me know if you’d like to be on my taglist!

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glitterjay · 1 year ago

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jay hard thought: dating jay and having sex for the first time after constantly teasing him for months. you guys decided to take it slow but recently you’ve been trying to hint that you’re ready by wearing barely anything to bed, squirming around in his lap during movie night with all ur friends, and bending over 24/7 on purpose. you’re convinced he’s gonna be sweet and soft. but you’ve pushed his buttons and caused him to snap so he fucks you rough and calls you a slut who needs to stop being so bratty. he cream pies you multiple times and then the next morning he eats your pussy for hours as a sorry 🤭

yall are something and i want some of that something too

warnings: 18+ content, MDI! jay x afab!reader, unprotected sex, cream pie lmk if i miss something

author’s note: wow. i have been so busy with uni and work that it feels like i completely forgot how to write. im sorry in advance if this is shitty

it had become a constant thing and ー to jay’s dismay ー a habit of yours to constantly tease him. a new fresh relationship had started for the both of you, and despite the very noticeable sexual tension in the air, you both agreed to take it slow and steady. was this part of a plan? absolutely. who were you to deny that seeing jay contain himself didnt turn you on? the way he bit his lip, or how he would excuse himself sometimes while you hung out with friends became an addiction for you. and here you were once again, only wearing one of his white t shirts to bed and just that. nothing else. the rest of the boys were spread around the house, in the guest room and living room, and you knew that if you only wore one of jay’s shirt, he would go nuts. and he did.

“what the hell is wrong with you!? just wearing one of my shirts with a house full of boys? are you crazy!?”

you were disappointed that he didnt do much other than scolding you, but oh were you so wrong. accepting your failure, you closed your eyes and gave your back to him. you kept the shirt, but the only condition was that you could not walk out of the room in just that. closing your eyes and getting ready to doze of, you felt a tingling sensation on your thighs. ignoring it, you kept trying to go to your dreamland, but the sensation started making its way up your legs. you opened one eye to see your boyfriend’s hands making circles on your skin. it was not new for jay to give you sweet caresses before sleeping, but they felt different this time.

in one sudden movement, a gasp left your mouth as his cold hand found your core. you tried to push him away, eyes now wide open, but it was impossible. his other hand held your body against the bed, and he was strong enough to not budge an inch. “you should’ve thought about the consequences of not wearing anything to bed.” his voice was way raspier than usual, and you could sense a different feeling from his eyes. it made you excited, but you also knew that jay was a softie inside.

your train of thoughts had stopped when something slammed into you. you screamed at the pain, quickly putting your hand over your mouth. he was balls deep in you, not moving, just standing there staring down at you. once again, he had thrusted into you harshly, still no preparation at all. the stinging made your eyes water, but it soon started melting with the pleasure of every thrust. you had never seen this side of your boyfriends but god were you loving it.

soon enough you started watching stars around the room. jay kept a fast, harsh, and steady pace, already making you come undone various times. but him? he had enough self control to hold his own release for a long time. just as you were about to reach your fourth high, you felt something warm inside of you. it felt like a whole hose had been turned on and warm water came out of it rapidly. the feeling was enough for you to release your own orgasm, making the juices mix and drip out of your pussy.

“this is what slutty and petty girls get when they tease their boyfriends”

#🥀 : ask #kpop #hard hours #enhypen smut #enhypen #kpop smut #enhypen hard hours #engene #enhypen jay #jay smut #enhypen jay smut #enhypen jay hard hours #hard thoughts

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r4vn · 4 months ago

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—LATE BLOSSOM (cont.)

farleıgh x reader 【2/3】

w.c: 4,251

part ¹: here.

disclaimers: sensual tension, dilf!farleigh, secretary!reader, mentions of drugs, farleigh has a kid, fluff??, filler episode, company AU!, hot and bothered, no smut (patience young padawan), cutesy,

—synopsis: youre babysitting your boss's kid for the day in his mansion of a home. as interesting as mr.start was, couldnt help but wonder more about him and his son. maybe something blooms between the two of you by the end of the evening.

a/n: i enjoyed writing this one sm! you guys know i enjoy my intricate details of describing things. i rlly like to paint the picture. i will eagle-eye proofread again later..lol all love! enjoy! as always, sorry for typos!

– part ³: coming soon.

「divider by @/ cafekitsune 」

you walked up to the grand entrance of farleigh's estate. you were nervous, but also severely curious. before you could even knock, the big mahogany door opened to reveal a farleigh start in a half-done suit. his shirt was half buttoned and his tie was undone. he looked even more attractive in tousled clothing and you had to stop your mind from wandering anywhere else but the present. farleigh smiled welcomingly towards you and stepped to the side for you to step in.

"good afternoon, [y/n]." he greeted tenderly. you walked in with a smile, chuckling. you could feel your face gain color at the sight of him.

"good afternoon, sir." you replied. farleigh scoffed playfully, waving a hand in the air.

"farleigh is just fine [y/n], we aren't at work." you didn't know how to respond, only nodding bashfully. you made a mental note to try your best to remember to call him by his first name outside of work. your eyes finally ripped away from your boss who was leading you through the main open room, the sight of the home's interior nearly taking your breath away. the marbled, checkered tiles complimented the rest of the renaissance aged home, decorated with velvet tufted chairs and couches. throughout the hallways you walked with your boss, some had beautifully trimmed pieces of wall tables edged with baroque, golden-plated trims, along with nearly all the furniture in the rooms.

"i take it you're a bit starstruck, [y/n]." the brunette chuckled softly as you could only stare in awe at everything. you nodded, following closely as he continued to give you the tour. as he showed you rooms such as the common area, guest rooms, the kitchen, the library and even his room. you made sure to take a mental snapshot of his room. you didn't know why, but it was a gorgeous room with elegant pieces of furniture.

"not to be stereotypical sir, but how does one like you, inherit such a company?" you inquired, almost immediately regret asking after hearing your words aloud.

"as in how does an american like me take over a british estate?" farleigh corrected you. it made you mentally cringe. you felt like a slight bigot for such a question. farleigh smiled at you again, buttoning his shirt as he walked.

"don't worry, i'm not offended, heh." you didn't know how he knew the topic made you tense, maybe your poker face wasn't as good as you think. "i am related to the family. my mother is the sister of sir james catton, and so i am nephew to lady elspeth and cousin to sir felix. after mr. and mrs. catton passed, venetia did not want it and felix left to pursue his own dreams in life, i was the closest to the family. therefore, it was passed down to me.”

you 'ohh'ed' and nodded understandably. you didn't know he was so close with the catton's. of course you could have done research, but it is always more interesting to hear from the source itself.

"if your mum is related to sir james, does that mean your dad is from the states?" you asked, half knowing the answer. farleigh turns and nods to you, tieing his black tie swiftly as he walked.

"yes, my father is american and my mother is british. the life of a mutt." farleigh grinned playfully. you playfully rolled your eyes at the cheeky brunette, loving that he always has a refreshing sense of humor.

"we are headed to the tv room, where my son is. are you nervous to meet him?" mr.start asked, glancing at you.

a shot of anxiety filled your chest like a small heart attack. you were very curious to meet the son of your boss, but what if he didnt like you? anything could happen, and you didn't want to jeopardize your job in any way.

"i must say i am a bit nervous, sir." you laughed sheepishly, farleigh stopped treading only a couple steps from a cracked open door. you could hear faint sounds from the room, sounding like a tv. farleigh placed his hands on your shoulders, the action not helping your fast heart rate in any way.

"i promise, you will do great. he's a good kid so don't worry." farleigh flashed another reassuring smile before heading into the room. "benji? i'd like you to meet someone bud." you followed farleigh into the room, seeing a nearly much smaller miniature version of your boss. the kid was a near spitting image of his father and had turned to you from the tv, giving you a big toothy smile.

"hello miss! i’m benjamin." he greeted. you nearly gushed at the sight of him. he had his father's skin tone and tight curls, along with prominent features such as his nose and eye shape. though his eyes were a shade of a lighter, honey brown.

"well hello benjamin. i am [y/n]. i'm going to be your babysitter today." you greeted, smiling sweetly. farleigh smiled at your interaction with his son. he checked the time, wincing audibly before kneeling in front of benjamin.

"now benji, i do have to leave. but i will be back tonight to put you to bed. please be good for the maids and for miss [y/n], alright bud?" the miniature brunette nodded vigorously, giggling as farleigh kissed his forehead. farleigh stood and turned to you, clasping his hands together.

"thank you so much for doing this [y/n], you have no idea how much this means to me. i will see you two tonight, alright?" you nodded at him, waving him off as he exited the room.

°°°

within the first two hours, you and benjamin sat in the tv room simply chatting about whatever a 6 year old boy likes to chat about. from dinosaurs, to race cars, to kid shows and even academics, benjamin was quite the intelligent kid. you weren't as nervous as before, and enjoyed the little runt's company. he was very well reserved for a child his age and was not as overstimulating as you thought he would be. one quirk you noticed was that he knew a lot about dinosaurs, and it was the most adorable thing in the world.

"did you know the name triceratops is greek for three-horned face miss [y/n]?" benji asked, playing with his dinosaur figurines on the low wooden table.

"no i did not. isn't that kind of crazy? imagine having three huge horns on your face." you grinned and poked both of benji's cheeks before poking his nose last. the boy giggled at the pokes, retracting from your hands from most likely being ticklish.

"they also weight like, 13 tons! thats like how much a building weighs or something!" the small brunette exclaimed while holding his arms out wide to demonstrate the 'size of a building.' you couldn't help but giggle at his actions, finding it too cute. he had more of a british accent than farleigh did, most likely from school.

getting a bit bored from the tv, benjamin asked the maid in the room for his coloring books. he had asked you if you wanted to color with him, of course not denying the request. he had 3 different books; a dinosaur one, a racecar one, and an overall educational one. benji colored in the dinosaur book while you colored a page in the racecar one.

"miss [y/n], are you my new mommy?" the boy quieres. you nearly choked on the crisps you were snacking on, having to clear your throat for a handful of seconds before answering.

"uhm– no sweetheart," your face had gathered warmth quickly, glancing at the maid who clearly held back a smile. "i actually work with your father. i am a secretary, someone who helps him with things like lunch and scheduling meetings."

"ohhhhh ..like a maid?" benji continues. you pause for a moment and think about his words. he wasn't technically wrong. it sometimes felt like that but you never minded it. it was quite literally your job.

"i guess you could say that, only i don’t clean and cook. i hope you behave for the butlers and maids here, benji." benji nods with another big grin while giggling.

"yes i do! i promise! but i was just wondering. i haven't seen my mom in ...i dunno, whats 3 years? a thousand days?" your heart dropped at the sudden turn in topic, forcing a small smile as you watched him continue to color.

"something like that," you responded more gently. "do you remember her?" benjamin hummed. he was thinking of an answer but clearly was more focused on the t-rex on the piece of paper he was coloring. he shrugs and picks up a green colored crayon. "brown hair, brown eyeballs, uhh thats all i sort of know hehe.." you nod, feeling a sudden wave of melancholy gently wash over you as your mind wanders to your own family.

"i get that, i can't remember my dad much." you shrugged. you picked up a green crayon and began making it the accent color of your red racecar, making sure to stay in the lines.

"i love my dad!" benji suddenly exclaimed, causing you to smile again. you gently rubbed his head full of curls. they reminded you of his fathers. you always wanted to touch farleigh's curls.

"mommy left after a big loud argument with daddy. they were using words i can't say until i graduate college, that's what daddy said at least," you paused your coloring, looking at the boy who still seemed bothered at speaking about such a topic while drawing on some dinosaurs.

"they were yelling about things like daddy's job and how mommy was always sad all the time and uh...doing lines on tables?" your breath hitched, trying not to look shocked in front of the housekeeper. you did sneak a glance to her, who averted her gaze.

"i also draw lines on tables but only with my fingers hehe. then one day mommy kissed my head and left with a suitcase. she told me to grow up big and strong aaaand look at me! big and strong!!" benji smiled, holding up his arms. your smile was slowly turned into a sad one. you couldn't help it. hearing such an innocent kid talk about a topic only you can fully comprehend sets an achy feeling in your chest. you decided it was time to change the atmosphere.

"hey, i'm feeling some homemade pizza. what about i go start in the kitchen while you finish up here with your drawing okay?" benjamin's eyes lit up like a starry night in the sky as the mention of pizza.

"okay!! i want to cut out this after im done and miss margaret will walk me into the kitchen!" you give a thumbs up to the boy and a silent agreeing smile to margaret before exiting the room. you admit you did slightly wander the halls for a minute or two and took the longer way to the kitchen just to adore the home itself. you loved the old yet elegant feeling of the entire place. you felt like sort of royalty, wondering how it would be like to even live in a place like this.

eventually you made it to the kitchen and noticed how it looked untouched. you turn to the butler who was dusting off a painting on the wall, hoping to not seem like a bother.

"sir? are there ingredients to make a homemade pizza in this kitchen?" you asked in a more polite tone than usual. the man stops what he is doing to turn to you. he wore an almost neutral expression but even then, you felt your presence was merely enough to annoy him.

"there are two kitchens, madam. this is the front kitchen, where they keep beverages, sweets and snacks in the cabinets and refrigerator. the back kitchen is where the chef and cooks keep most of the ingredients when they cook for sir farleigh and sir benjamin." you nodded, thanking him for the information given before leaving him alone quickly. you wandered to the back of the kitchen where many cooks were prepping food, probably for the following days. you spoke to the chef and told him how you wanted to simply make homemade pizza using the front kitchen stove, and he happily helped you. he brought out the ingredients and placed them on the granite island in the front kitchen. the finest kneaded dough, marinara sauce, 3 varieties of cheeses and several fresh pizza toppings.

while finishing up, you heard a noise from the hallway. it was a brief noise, but what it had sounded like alarmed you. you briskly shuffled into the hallway to see margaret coming to you with benjamin, who has tears running down his face. you immediately ran to his aid, kneeling down toward the boy's height.

"margaret what happened?" you gasped out. there was blood on his small hands along with margaret’s who was holding a wet gray cloth to his hand to stop the bleeding.

"i-im sorry madam. i had looked away for just a moment while he was cutting his drawing out and he nicked himself. there is first aid in the library." the women spoke frantically. you immediately picked up benji and rushed to the library. when the three of you arrived, margaret immediately grabbed the first aid from the shelf. you sat benji down in one of the chairs, speaking to him reassuringly to calm the scared boy down.

"i-it hurts [y/n]." he cried. you continued to press the wet rag to his wound and cupped his small face.

"i know sweetheart. it's okay, you're going to be alright. c'mere." you hushed and cooed the boy reassuringly, holding him in your lap as you rocked him. you silently told margaret to hold off for a moment, just to get him to calm down. you knew hand cuts tend to bleed for a bit before the wound would clot itself and so to distract benjamin, you hummed a small lullaby to soothe him. as you held the rag securely to his hand, your other hand held his head to your chest as you hummed quietly into his ears. within a matter of minutes his cries slowed to small sniffles and hiccups.

the tension in the room lifted and you finally let margaret treat his wound while he sat in your lap. when you finally removed the rag, the cut was as expected a small nick on his thumb. benji sat calmly as margaret gingerly cleaned his cut with a q-tip, placed a then layer or ointment over it and wrapped a blue bandaid around his finger.

"you did so good benji. i think you deserve a treat." you praised. benji looked up at you with his glassy hazel eyes, finally showing a cheeky grin.

"like pizza?" he questioned. you laughed at the unexpected guess but simply nodded. your eyes glanced over at margaret who mouthed a small 'thank you.' your chest warmed and you accepted it, finally taking benjamin to the kitchen to make pizza.

°°°

"[y/n]? benji? im home!" farleigh yelled through out the home whilst walking through the door.

"daddy!!" benji yelled, running towards his father across the main common room. farleigh immediately smile and picked up his son, kissing his head.

"hey buddy, were you good for miss [y/n]?" benjamin nodded excitedly, giggling as his father tickled him. you arrived seconds later after benjamin and beamed at the sight of your boss.

"hello sir. i hope the event was nice." you started. farleigh sighed deeply, painting on a smile. past the smile you could see he needed a lending ear.

"it was surely eventful. let's get this little kiddo to bed first." you agreed and followed farleigh to benjamin's room. the tall brunette helped his miniature copy into his pajamas and laid him down in bed. you sat farther to the end of the bed to let them have their moment.

"daddy i had a really good day. i watched tv, drew dinosaurs, talked about dinosaurs, and i made pizza!" benji exclaimed.

"oh you made pizza?" farleigh questioned, a hint of genuine surprise lacing his tone as he briefly turned to you. benji confirmed again and suddenly showed his blue bandaid, making your heart drop.

"yes. i also hurt myself while trying to cut out my drawing. but miss [y/n] helped me calm down as miss margaret placed the bandaid on it hehe." farleigh held up his sons hand, gently kissing the wounded finger with a smaller smile as he glanced over at you.

"i was wondering what happened when i walked in. but i am glad youre okay, bub. get some sleep, okay?" just as farleigh was about to tuck him in, benjamin protested and sat up quickly. suddenly he crawled over to the end of his bed where you were and gave you a big hug. as you were slightly taken aback, you wrapped your arms around the child, blushing as he kissed your cheek before he climbed right back into bed. farleigh kissed him goodnight before the two of you left his room quietly.

the air seemed to thicken as you walked just seconds short behind farleigh. he walked back into the kitchen, where he had seen the wrapped leftover pizza on the island. you had made sure to clean up as you cooked, so there was minimal mess in the end. you didn't have time to put leftovers up since farleigh was pulling up to the estate at the time. farleigh opened the aluminum foil and took a slice of pizza, humming in approval at the taste.

"so," he started. "what happened?" you swallowed thickly. you couldn't read him. anyone knows if a parent came home to their child wounded they would be livid.

"i went to set up the ingredients for making the pizzas while margaret watched him for a handful of minutes and– and i heard the noise of a cry of some sort and i had seen margaret with a cloth to his hand.." you pause your words, watching as farleigh's fingers undid his tie silently. he rolled up his sleeves before opening the fridge to grab a chilled bottle of red wine. the bottle read 'la ruine. pinot noir.'

"we took him to the library where first aid was and as i calmed him, margaret treated his cut. im really sorry sir it was an honest mistake and i shouldnt of left him alone when he was usin–" you cut yourself short when farleigh suddenly walked up to you and placed his hands on both your shoulders.

"[y/n], sweetheart, its okay. he is a big boy, things happen. i'm not mad at you and its clear it was just an accident. benjamim was clearly fine also, yeah?" you stare up at your boss, nodding slowly at his words.

did he just call me sweetheart?

"y-yes ...sir." you stuttered out. your body temperature increased at his voice calling you a pet name and his touch. you didn't know how to react. farleigh felt your tense arms relax under his touch and he smiled. he opened a higher cabinet, grabbing two crystal glasses and placed them on the island.

"have a glass of wine with me. i think it will ease both of our nerves." the brunette suggested, pouring you both half a glass. you thanked him and sipped the red, the taste immediately making you smile. you looked at farleigh, who had already down his glass with a slight groan at the end. work must of stressed him out today, because he filled his glass halfway again and downed it quickly once more. this time in 2 gulps instead of one.

"heavy day, sir?" you hummed, chuckling sheepishly. farleigh sighed in response, nodding as he poured his third glass. instead of downing it, he kept it on the granite island and placed the bottle to the side.

"i apologize for downing those glasses in front of you like that, wasn't very gentlemen-like of me. but yes today was simply, very overstimulating." farleigh groaned, rubbing his temples at the mere thought of the business event. he went into the pantry and grabbed a half opened bar of chocolate, breaking off a piece to eat. he sipped his glass after with a hum of content.

"may i ask just a summary of your day?" you continued. you took a larger sip of your glass to catch up with farleigh, who was already 2 drinks in.

"it was a beautiful venue and all. some men had their secretaries doing their bidding which made me wish i had you there. not to do everything for me, like you normally do, but to have company. thank you again for babysitting benjamin for me." farleigh tipped his glass to you before drinking from it again.

"it was merely just a lot of conversing about business, laughing at– excuse me but –shitty jokes and poorly made horderves. the live music was beautiful though." you chuckled at hearing farleigh swear. you had never heard him use such language besides the less stronger phrases like 'damn' or 'pain in the ass.' it was nice to see him loosen up.

"i would have loved to have joined you. but i must say, benjamin and i did have fun making pizza and coloring together. i think i can say i definitely had more fun than you, sir." you stated with a cheeky tone. you giggled as farleigh attempted to protest but clearly couldn't, agreeing with you.

"i would choose my son over rich old white men any day. here, try this. dark chocolate is good with red wine." farleigh handed you a small piece of dark chocolate broken off the bar, coaxing you to eat it. you rose a brow but did not question the man, popping the candy in your mouth. the chocolate almost immediately melted against your tongue and you followed the candy with a swing of red, not holding back your pleased expression from the taste. the fruity and spiced flavoring of the wine complimented the savory and slightly sweet piece of chocolate. you made a mental note to try it at home.

"good yeah?" mr.start teased, chuckling as he knew you were doing to enjoy it. you nodded at his words, pointing to the bottle for a refill.

"may i?" you queried. farleigh waved a hand, signaling for you to grab the bottle and you poured yourself another glass. farleigh felt his body becoming warmer, his first 2 glasses finally catching up to him. he casually leaned against the island while you were up against the counter directly across from him. there was maybe a space of about a yard between the two of you as you sipped your glasses, speaking of miscellaneous topics now. but there was no denying the tension in the room. you weren't going to acknowledge it and farleigh seemingly didn't mind it.

"yes i think tony's cafe has better coffee than the cafe on 63rd. it's also less busy and their mocha is much more, well, chocolate-y." farleigh hummed, scratching his scruffy jaw as he finished off his 3rd and final glass.

"tony's black coffee also isn't as bitter. it has that hint of floral notes, like hawaiian coffee. and– oh, hold on.." farleigh paused his words and leaned off the counter to enter your space. your breath hitched as he loomed over you, his hand raising towards your face. the pad of his thumb gently swiped over your cheek a couple of times and farleighs eyes never left your face.

"you had a little bit of flour on your face.." he murmured, making you laugh under your breath.

"probably from the pizza dough." you replied, the volume of your voice automatically decreasing at the close proximity. farleigh, who seemed to be in a daze, was finishing wiping the flour off but didnt move. his fingers simply stayed gently on your face. you didn't know how tipsy you were till you had subconsciously leaned into farleigh's hand, allowing him to cup the side of your face. though when you opened your eyes to see farleigh gazing at you with such eyes, you had realized the alcohol had gotten to you both, and it was time to leave. you swiftly cleared your throat which brought farleigh out of his daze, the man taking a step back for you to breathe.

"ah– ahem ..its getting late farleigh. i should get going–" you started.

"i can take you home." he suggested quickly. you laughed awkwardly, shaking your head at his request.

"sir, you are 3 drinks in. i don't think that's best." you mentioned. farleigh mentally slapped himself for the suggestion. he would never put your life in danger like that. he didn't push any further and simply nodded.

"i will tell margaret to let the chauffeur know. you have a nice evening, [y/n]. i'll see you tomorrow, and thank you again." farleigh flashed one last smile at you, grabbing the bottle and the chocolate to put them up.

"have a goodnight, sir." and with that, you turned your heel and made your way to the front door, not daring to sneak one last look. because you already felt his eyes watching you leave.

pls stay tuned. the next one will be spicy ;)

#farleigh start x reader #farleigh catton #farleigh start smut #farleigh x reader #farleigh saltburn #farleigh start #farleigh x you #saltburn smut #saltburn fanfiction #saltburn x reader #saltburn movie #archie madekwe #raven writes #dilf!farleigh #jann mardenborough fanfiction #kai voyagers

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soggyriceee · 1 year ago

Text

red handed | yandere!konig

THIS WAS A REQUEST BUT IT GOT FUCKING DELETED IM SO SORRY TO WHOEVER REQUESTED IT I MADE THIS EXTRA SMUTTY JUST FOR YOU I HOPE YOU FIND THIS

summary: Konig is crazy possessive and jealous. You become too close to a guy and he doesn't like that, so he takes matters into his own hands

warning: female!reader, blood, murder, unprotected p in v, mommy kink, breeding kink, knives, not proof read yet

Konig kept you in the house always. he never trusted anyone to not try and get at you. ever. you were gorgeous, his ideal woman. and he was not going to let you get away, not that easy. anytime you wanted to leave he'd always begin to cry. "why do you want to leave me libeling." he'd cry, gripping onto your waist, pulling you back onto the couch. he'd cry and cry and cry until you told him you were joking, even though you weren't. he'd wipe his eyes and look up at you. "I dont like that joke mommy, you know that." he'd say, going back to hugging you.

you never questioned why he acted the way he did. he as always like this, and something about it attracted you to him. the way he'd call you mommy, but tell you that you couldnt leave. boss you around. "mommy go make me food, im hungry." he'd say, letting releasing your boob from his mouth. yea, that was another thing he aways did. anytime you both were cuddling, he'd pull your boob out from your shirt, placing it in his mouth and lay on your chest. it was cute.

whenever you both would have sex, he'd boss you around to. "get on your knees mommy, gonna fuck that throat." and he always did. he'd always whimper how good you treat him, how your only his. your contact with family was limited as well. he didnt have any family to talk to, he only had you. and he only wanted you to have him. of course your family had tried to help you get out that relationship, but you couldnt leave Konig. no matter how controlling or crazy he was, you loved him. and he loved you. but, he loved you a bit too much.

"mommy im going to go to the store now. do you need anything?" he'd ask, placing the pink glittery collar on your neck, tying the rope of it to the coffee table. you had grown accustom to this now. you actually enjoyed it. especially since he did it to make sure you would never escape while he was gone. "mm some ice cream?" you asked, looking up at him. he smiled and nodded, leaning down to kiss you. "anything for you mommy. ill be back." he grabbed the keys before turning back to you. "you better still be there when I come back." he said before leaving the house.

and you did. for a bit. it was a sunny day outside, windy. it was the perfect weather. you hadn't seen outside in so long. he always had the patio door locked. "you can escape if I leave it open." he told you. but you wouldn't escape. you were happy where you were right now. but that didnt mean you dont miss the outside. you looked at the TV, watching the girl run around outside, her boyfriend following her. they both looked so happy. why couldnt that be you and Konig?

you knew Konig would be gone for a while. you both lived about 15 miles from a store. plus traffic. you had a good hour and a half before he'd come home. so, with all the strength you had, you began to untie the knot. he never made them too tight. he didnt wanna kill you. he just wanted to keep you still.

you had gotten the knot undone and watched the knot fall to the floor. you swallowed before standing slowly, looking to the front door. you hadn't been outside in so long. and Konig always made it seem like it was the worst out there. "people will murder you mommy. they walk around with knives, guns." he'd tell you every time you look at the door. one time, he actually got angry at you for talking about going outside and tied you to the table, keeping you there for two days. of course he fed you, gave you water. "I dont want to do this but you cant leave me mommy. ever."

so justifiably, you were a bit hesitant. but you made your way to the door, putting on his big shoes, since you no longer had a pair of your own. you gripped the knob tightly, turning it slowly. when you opened the door, the wind blew so softly in your face. it was nice. the sun was out, birds were chirping. there wasn't too many cars outside. you had completely forgotten what it looked like outside your neighborhood. you took a step down, closing the door behind you.

"hey! haven't seen you in a while!" a deep voice called out. you jumped and tried around, meeting eyes with your neighbor, Jackson. "oh hi.. uh.." "Jackson." he laughed, putting the hose down. he jogged over to you, looking at you with a questioning look. "uh whats with the.. collar." he asked, meeting your worried gaze all over. your hand ran over the collar, remembering what Konig said before he left. "u-uh i.. uhm.." you were quickly growing panicked and Jackson caught on almost immediately.

"sit down. I can take it off of you." he said gently, grabbing your hand slowly, trying his hardest not to scare you. you sat on the concrete steps, watching his every move. "d-do you have a gun?" you asked, remembering all the stories Konig had told you. Jackson laughed, looking up at you. but when he realized you were serious, he cleared his throat. "no why..why would I have a gun on me?" he asked. he leaned in close, his hands reaching the back of your neck to undo the collar. his lips were super close, but he never placed them onto yours.

"there." he smiled, moving away. you felt your neck relax, the collar in his hands. " I dont know what Konig has going on in there. he never talks to anyone. ever. I do get worried because you know, nobody can even see inside the house." he said, looking to the door. "does he just keep you in there?" he asked after a moment of silence. you didnt answer. ".. you know. my sister, she was in a relationship like yours. abusive boyfriend. I can get her to talk to you she's actually in th-" "he doesn't abuse me. he treats me really well. he just.. gets scared that ill leave." you said, looking up and down the street. you had no clue what his car looked like, but you looked regardless.

"is that why you have a collar on?" he asked, leaning forward to meet your gaze. you remained silent. "I like things like that." you finally said, maintaining eye contact. he sighed and pursed his lips before standing. " come to my house. I can give you some food. water. whatever you need." he said, reaching his hand out. you looked at it for a moment before looking down. " I have a cat. two." he said, catching your attention. "cats?"

he nodded, a smile forming on his lips. "two cats. it can be for a bit. before he comes home." he said. you were hesitant, looking back into the street. what would happen if Konig came back and saw you weren't in your usual spot? or even in the house? what would happen if he saw you in another mans house? "hey. it'll be for 15 minuets. max. then you can go back. I just wanna make sure you got food and water." he said, kneeling down in front of you. why did he think you were getting abused? you said you weren't. "I already ate today but.. can I play with your cats?" you asked, taking his hand that still hung out. he smiled and nodded, pulling you up. "of course. their names are snowy and rain. one is super white and the other is grey." he said, helping you to his home.

every time Konig left you did this. and you have yet to be caught. it was nice, having a whole new friend. he was super kind, a completely different person than Konig. but you still felt bad for lying to Konig. you weren't cheating, you knew that. but it was nice to make a friend and talk to someone outside those four walls. "I found the ice cream you like by the way, ill bring it to you whenever you come back next." he smiled, walking you back to your house. " oh you didnt have to." you said, stepping onto the first step.

you turned to him, smiling up at him. " yea but.. I guess I just care too much about the small things you say." he said, a soft smile on his face. you looked down, feeling awkward at how close he was. " I uhm.. I wanna take you away from him. you deserve to see the outside, your not some pet." he said, grabbing your chin to lift your head softly. his eyes wandered to your lips, swallowing. " you deserve better." he mumbled, leaning in slow.

you backed away, looking down to your feet. "Jackson im happy here.. I like being in there like that." you said softly. he sighed, lifting your chin again. " why cant you see hes abusing you? ive seen what abuse is before please just-" before he could finish his sentence his body was yanked back, an angry, no. not angry. a furious Konig standing in front of you now. you immediately began to feel dizzy, like you were about to puke. he looked into your eyes, his eye twitching. Jackson groaned below you both, rubbing his throat where his collar was pulled.

"K-Konig I j-just w-" he stepped over Jackson, gripping your wrist and turning you around. he opened the door from behind you, shoving you inside. he closed the door behind him, watching you walk backwards. "mommy who was that? why did you leave? I told you not to leave." he said, walking towards you, long and powerful strides. " h-hes a friend I promise. I just w-wanted to go outside it g-got hot in here." you said, tripping over pure air, falling to the floor. you hit your head on the ground, gripping it. he stood, watching you below him. " am I not good enough? he could have killed you mommy. people have guns. and knives." he said, voice flat. "he doesn't have a gun Konig.. he told me." you replied, wiping your eyes from the impact.

he grabbed your arm, yanking you up. he dragged you into the bedroom, shoving you to the bed. you looked up at him and saw tears in his eyes. "mommy am I not good enough for you? do you not trust me?" he cried, wiping his eyes. you didn't know what to do. you were scared, but hurt. you didn't want to hurt him. you just wanted new friends. "konig I just-" he took the photo of you both on the night stand, throwing it across the room. you jumped, looking down. " mommy you-you broke your promise. you promised you'd stay." he cried, walking over to you.

he pushed you on the bed, laying on top of you. he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you in tight. "i..i'm sorry." you said, still confused on what to do. he sniffled into your shirt. "promise..promise you won't talk to him. every again." he said, looking up at you. of course you didn't want to stop. you had made a friend. a nice person. but Konig was much more important, you couldn't lose him. so you nodded, softly saying 'okay'. he smiled and nodded, laying back on your head. "ill even make sure of it.." he whispered, quietly enough for you to not hear.

you hadn't realized it, but you had fallen asleep shortly after Konig telling you to never leave again. you also woke up to an empty bed. rubbing your eyes, you turned to the alarm clock on his side of the bed. it read 9:20 PM. "how long was I out.." you mumbled. shuffling off the bed, you began to look for your boyfriend, calling misname out softly. you didnt know if he was still mad, or if he was somewhere taking some drastic measure to make you stay in this house with him like boarding up the windows or something.

you yawned, walking down the hall. "konig.." you called out again, peeking your head into the bathroom before making you way into the living room. no lights were on and that terrified you. Konig was not one to leave you alone without telling you. you switched the living room light on, eyes landing right onto Konig's phone. you grabbed it, opening it. he had given you his password for his phone in case you wanted to play games while he made you dinner. he trusted you not to do anything stupid.

just as you were about to explore the rest of your home, you heard a scream from outside. a male scream. you jumped at first, but then turned to the patio door. it was dark outside, the only light coming from the cheap, old street lights. you swallowed and walked over to the patio, pulling the curtains back a bit more to see what was going on. the first thing you saw, was your Jackson's front door wide open, the light from inside his house illuminating the front half of his home. then, your eyes scanned the distance from his house to yours, landing on a figure only 2 feet from where your patio was.

the screaming was no more, it came and went very quickly. but you couldnt stop your hands from shaking as you watched this tall figure's arms move up and slam back down. you didnt have the best hearing, but you were sure you heard some sort of squelching every time this figures arms went down. you felt like you were going to be sick. even more so, you were scarred this man was going to come for you next. Konig wasn't here to protect you. you'd die in this house alone, cut up into small enough pieces to eat.

you felt like a deer in headlights, watching your neighbor be stabbed to death. and it lasted quite a while. the more you watched, the more scared you got. but then, you heard the figures voice. " that'll keep you away." he said, or you ended up making out. the phone in your hand dropped when you realized that figure wasn't some random murderer. it was Konig.

he stood from his kneeled position, wiping his hands on his shirt. he walked over the now limp body on the floor, grabbing a shovel from beside him. you watched as Konig began to shovel into the dirt, obviously making a grave for this poor man. well, was it a poor man? you tried to feel sad. and you think a part of you did. I mean, you just watched someone get fucking murdered. but at the same time, you sorta liked how Konig was so protective and crazy over you.

of course killing someone may be extreme in any case of jealousy, but seeing how far he would go just to keep you with him made your thighs clench together. seeing how he truly believed with his whole heart that you were only his, nobody else can touch you or even be close to you. you know you should feel scared of him at this time, but you didnt. you felt honored, and honestly safe. you had a man who would do anything to make you feel safe, protected. and he wasn't going to ever let you go. you felt genuinely loved and wanted. but maybe that was the months and months of Konig's personality and his own craziness getting to you.

and so, you watched as he dragged Jackson into the hole, quickly covering him back up with dirt. you were a bit scared Konig would be caught, but that was a situation for later. right now, more than anything, you wanted to show him just how much hes made you needy for him.

he patted the area down, trying to make it look less suspicious before making his way back to the patio. his eyes landed on yours once he came up to the door, the shovel in his hand dropping. you slowly slid the door open, looking up at him. it was silent. he didnt say anything, but the tears were not shy of coming out his eyes. " mommy im so.. sorry. did you see-" " everything. I did." you said, looking at his bloody neck and face. his hands were no different, if anything they were worse. his clothes were stained red as well.

he dropped to the floor, burying his head in his hands. sobs escaped from him, loud sobs. " konig come inside please, you'll wake the neighborhood." you said, dragging him by his arms into the house. it obviously took a bit, given his large size, but he eventually was inside, back pressed against the patio door. you sighed and sat in front of him, taking his bloody, shaky hands from his face. " konig please..please look at me." you said, wrapping your hands around two of his large fingers. he sniffled and looked up at you, the blood from his face dripping down.

"i..God.. I liked what you did." you mumbled, looking to his chest. he sniffled once more, looking at you. " what?" he asked, his voice still shaky from being caught. you sighed and scooted forwards onto his lap, looking in his eyes. his watery, doe eyes. he was so beautiful, even when he was covered in blood. " I like how protective you are. how jealous you get. I love it, actually. I love all of it." you said, cupping his face. your thumb slipped the mis of tears and blood away, giving him a soft smile. "really? oh mommy thats such good news." he smiled, pulling you into a hug. you giggled and hugged him back, biting your bottom lip.

of course your main goal was to calm him down, but your second goal was to get him to fuck you. you couldn't stop the throbbing feeling from between your thighs. as he told you how much he loved you into your chest, not even thinking about fucking you, you began to grind yourself slowly, subtly on his thighs. and at first he simply thought you were re adjusting yourself. but when tiny little moans began to come from you, and your hips moved just a bit faster, he quickly caught onto what you were doing. he smiled into your chest, biting the shirt you had on.

" mommy.." he cooed, hand finding your ass. he gripped it, dragging your hips faster. " are you horny right now?" he asked, looking up at you from your shirt. you were embarrassed. I mean he just killed a man and here you were trying to get off. but you couldnt stop the 'yes' that came out of you. he smiled and leaned back onto the patio door, the blood on him only adding to the sensation you felt.

his thigh began to gently bounce below you, his eyes going from innocent to dark in a matter of seconds. he watched as your hips moved faster on his thigh, watching your body lean forward. your mouth fell ajar, the prettiest of whimpers coming from you as you moved yourself perfectly on his thigh, giving your clit the right amount of attention. " mommy likes seeing her baby boy kill for her isn't that right?" he whispered, his free hand working up your shirt. you felt the cold blood on his hands as he gripped your breast, his fingers quick to roll your nipple in between his fingers.

you nodded, looking down to see his thigh bounce faster, but not too fast. just enough to get you to the edge. " well your baby boy would kill for you any time mommy." he said, guiding your hips faster to match the pace of his thigh. he leaned in, his other hand still working on your nipple. " id kill a hundred men for you, just to keep you in this house. keep you here for me mommy. only me." your head fell into his neck, covering your forehead in blood. the knot in your stomach was slowly coming loose and he knew it just by the sounds of those pretty little whined you let slip from out of you.

"come on mommy let it go.. cum for me. cum for your good boy." he begged, a whine coming from him. the tent in his pants only made it harder for you to hold back your orgasm and before you knew it, your body tensed up, sinful sounds escaping your lips. he moaned at the wet spot that formed on his thigh, bleeding (hehe) through his thin sweatpants. you clothed onto him, feeling your whole body shake as you came down, his thigh slowing down to help yo pride out your high. when you pulled away, he groaned at the blood that was dripping down your face.

" ride me mommy, come on." he said, his hands moving quickly to the waistband of his pants, pulling them down. you fell off his lap, but quickly went back to your place. the night shorts you had on, he slid to the side, exposing your wet, dripping cunt. he whined at the sight, bitting his bottom him. " well come on mommy its your dick. ride it." he said, looking up at you. you wasted little time in positioning yourself over his tip, sliding down. you wanted to go slow, get yourself used to the feeling again, but Konig had other plans.

his hands gripped your hips and shoved you down, his head thrown back against the glass, a pained whimper leaving your lips. he raised your hips, looking down at the small amount of blood on his dick. your blood. he moaned at the sight before slamming you back down. your hands gripped his shoulders, your eyes squeezing shut. he gave you no time to adjust to him, but that was also something that turned you on. "come on mommy ride it. show me how much of a good boy I was for killing him." he whined, slapping your face gently to open your eyes.

your hips began to move up and down, slowly at first. you gasped as his size continued to stretch your cunt out, slowly picking up the pace afterwards. his hands gripped onto your hips harder, a whimper leaving his lips every time you went back down on him. his eyes were squeezed shut, his mouth left open slightly. you looked at him and as badly as you wanted to kiss him, you didnt want the blood in your mouth. " oh mommy your..doing so fucking good~ please tell me im a good boy" he whined, looking down at you as you bounced up and down, up and down.

" y-yours such a good..good boy baby. such a good boy" you cooed, adjusting yourself so you now were in a squatting position, feet pressed flat to the ground. he moaned as your praised him, the switch in position making his hips buck up. your own head fell back as you felt him reach your cervix, but your hips never stopping. " your my mommy.. all fucking mine." he growled, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you into his chest. his hips thrusted up into you, fast and deep. his balls slapped right at the bottom of your arse, adding to the already sloppy sounds of his dick moving in and out your cunt.

your hands pressed onto the patio door, your mouth left wide open. both of you let out moans and whimpers with each thrust of his hips, not only the feeling of love but the feeling of possessiveness floating in the air. " fuck your so tight mommy, love fucking your cunt. only I can right? only y-your baby..boy can?" he asked, gripping your tighter. you nodded quickly, trying your hardest to get words out but they never came. he slid out and pushed you off him, making your body fall back. he dragged you back to him by your ankles, hovering over your body. he gripped his base and slammed it right back into where it belonged, hips jutting into yours all over.

his hands gripped your calves, pulling your legs over his shoulders. your back arched off the cold floor, hands gripping the coffee table right behind you. " all m-mine.. " he whimpered, his head dropping into your chest, your body folding forward more. " im yours b-baby.. forever." you moaned, eyes rolling to the back of your head. he picked his head up, looking down at you. he loved seeing you react to him fucking you, loved seeing the way your wet lips were parted, the blood on your face dripping down to your neck. " gonna make you fucking pregnant mommy. gonna be mine- fuck - forever. you understand?" he moaned, his hand finding your throat and gripping it.

you nodded, choking out a 'yes'. his looked down, watching your cunt form bubbled of your slick around his dick, the squelching sounds growing louder as his pace picked up. " fuck mommy~ this pussy is s-so good" he whined, his eyes crossing as he felt his orgasm reaching him. your hands gripped onto the table harder, mouth falling ajar. his thrusts began to jerk your own body forward, legs still around his shoulders. the knot that you felt moments ago was back, and it was coming fast.

" keep going Konig p-please.. im gonna c-cum!" you whimpered, looking down at where his dick slammed into yours. your own juices were running down your arse, coating the inside of your thighs. " im n-not gonna stop mommy I promise.. please cum" he moaned, his head dropping back into your chest, the hand the was on your throat quickly began to pull your boob out from under your shirt, his lips finding the nipple. his tongue ran circles over the nipple, bitting it and occasionally pulling at it.

the only words that came from your lips at this moment was 'Konig'. the only words coming from him were 'mommy'. you began to pulse around his dick, his thrusts becoming sloppy too. " hold it mommy.. gonna c-cum together so fucking hold it." he whined, going right back to sucking on your nipple. you clenched around him trying to hold back your orgasm. but the way he was ramming into your g spot, hitting your cervix so painfully well. it was hard. and it didnt help that his cute little whimpers were going more frequent.

however, he raised his head, looking down at you with hooded eyes and wet lips. " cum mommy, please cum all over me." he begged, his thrusts becoming sloppy. you nodded quickly, releasing the grip from your cunt. he looked down as he watched your cum spurt out of you, covering his lower half and chest with it. that was enough to set him over the edge. " oh fuck- mommy~" he whined, giving you two final, hard thrusts before his cum shot deep into you. his hands found your hips, gripping onto them as his body shook. tears dropped from his eyes, small gasps to accompany them.

his body fell onto yours, still shaking from the powerful orgasm youth experienced. it was silent for a bit, the sound of heavy breathing filling the air, you felt his cum begin to seep out you and so did he. he raised himself slowly, looking back down to thrust his hips into yours. gently tho, he too was completely fucked out. " gotta keep.. my cum in you mommy." he breathed out, lazily thrusting his hips back int you.

when he pulled out he reached over to you, pulling you just enough so he could lift you into his arms. he kissed your cheek, and then slipped your boob into his mouth for a moment. releasing it with a pop, he looked up at you. " lets shower. then, we look for new places to live." he smiled. you giggled and nodded, resting your head into his bloody chest, replaying in your head what just happened.

to whoever requested this I HOPE YOU LIKE IT! I have no idea what the hell happened to your request I just opened Tumblr and the original post I was going to post was gone so I hope you find this <3

#cod #call of duty fan fiction #call of duty x reader #cod x reader #konig #konig smut #konig fanfiction #konig x reader

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urdreamgirls-dreamgirl · 1 year ago

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and i wouldn’t marry me either, pt. 1

have u guys seen that movie plus one on hulu with jack quaid and maya erskine? ok well here’s this thing. also, tw for steve puking.

Steve is drunk. Like, really, embarrassingly drunk.

And that would be fine, really, if he wasn’t at someone’s actual, real-life wedding.

Somewhere between the ceremony and the cocktail hour, the father-of-the-bride speech that had made him cry and the cutting of the cake, he’d started thinking about Nancy Wheeler and thinking about Nancy Wheeler had led to him practically funding the open bar with the spare change he’d been sure to bring in his pockets for tips.

And the thing about it is, Steve normally loves weddings. He loves the flowers and the vows and watching the bride walk down the aisle. He loves the DJ announcing the new couple, loves throwing confetti outside the church, loves the look on the groom’s face when he sees his almost-wife in her dress for the first time. But—

“Harrington!” Tommy Hagan yells from across the room, gesturing for Steve to make his way over. Steve racks his brain for an explanation as to why Tommy H would be at this wedding; he doesn’t remember Gareth and Tommy being particularly close back in their college days. Steve stumbles his way over to Tommy’s table, keeping a secure hand around his gin & tonic, trying his best not to spill.

“Stevie!” Tommy’s fiancée, Carol, practically crows as she leans over Tommy’s lap. “Where’s Nancy?”

“Yeah, man, kinda thought you’d be the first one marching down the aisle,” Tommy laughs and Carol swats him on the arm.

Steve downs his practically full drink before slamming the heavy glass back down on the table.

“We broke up actually,” Steve grimaces. “Last week.”

Carol gives him an exaggerated pout while Tommy cringes. “Aw, baby, I’m so sorry,” Carol slurs. Steve has to hold himself back from rolling his eyes.

“Yeah, well.” Steve runs a hand through his hair. “We wanted different things.”

They offer him a few more words of sympathy before Steve finally flees, making excuses about finding the bathroom. He’s too drunk for this.

He leaves the table in search of another drink.

~*~

Eddie’s just outside the reception hall, out on the venue’s terrace, sparkling with fairy lights. He’s got a stack of index cards in his hands, trying to make out his own scrawled handwriting, when someone stumbles directly into his back. He feels something wet through the fabric of his dress shirt.

“Fuck, shit, sorry, fuck,” someone says, their hands patting at the wetness.

Eddie finally turns to see a disheveled Steve Harrington, a half-empty glass clutched in his fist. His hair’s a mess, his tie’s undone, and he’s clearly drunk. Eddie had seen him stumbling around the dance floor earlier.

“Dude, you good?” Eddie asks, genuinely concerned. He can’t remember the last time he’d seen Harrington drunk. It had to be way back in college, when he’d only known Steve as that annoying frat dude that Gareth and Dustin always brought around. He’d spent a full year trying to figure out what those two saw in him and doing everything in his power to avoid group hang outs.

They’d gotten closer over the years, once they’d graduated and become, like, real, fully-formed human beings. Harrington was actually a pretty chill dude, funny and sweet and able to give as good as he got whenever Eddie was in a particularly teasing mood. Eddie’s ego wasn’t so big that he couldn’t admit he’d been wrong about Harrington, at least in the privacy of his own head.

“Yeah, man, all good,” Steve slurs, barely coherent. He raises his empty hand limply in an attempt at a thumbs up.

“Man, you don’t look so good.” Steve’s eyes are practically vacant and Eddie is feeling genuinely concerned. And he’s proven right when Steve stumbles over to one of the concrete planters lining the terrace and pukes his guts out. It’s loud and disgusting and Eddie can feel the grimace on his own face. But Steve is his friend, so he reaches his hand out to rub Steve’s back, even as he keeps his distance.

“Hey, Eddie,” he hears Jeff call from the French doors that lead into the reception hall.

“Yeah?” Eddie spares a quick glance over his shoulder before returning his attention to where Steve is groaning into the dirt of some exotic-looking tree.

“‘Bout ready to cut the cake,” Jeff tells him. “Need you in a few.”

Right. Eddie’s best man speech. The reason he was out here in the first place. He’s not nervous or anything. He’s a natural showman and entertainer, loves being in front of a crowd. And he loves Gareth and Chrissy. He has plenty of good things to say about them, plenty of embarrassing stories from when he and Gareth were kids, and plenty of sweet ones from when they’d finally met Chrissy in college. Nah, Eddie’s pretty much got this in the bag. He’s just not used to the idea of his friends being actually, real-life married. They’re only 27; Chrissy’s practically a child bride for god’s sake!

Eddie glances down at Steve, whose face is red and sweaty. Eddie’s not blind or stupid; he knows Steve’s an attractive dude. He’s a little too preppy and heterosexual (even though Eddie knows on a theoretical level that Steve does sometimes sleep with other guys) for Eddie’s tastes, but the man is hot. Except for right now. He actually looks pretty bad, possibly the worst Eddie’s ever seen him. And that’s really saying something, considering Steve had actually had his stomach pumped during Greek Week their senior year. At least Steve seems to have cleared the contents of his stomach, at this point.

“Hey, man, you good?” Eddie asks him, his hand still rubbing slow circles on Steve’s back.

Steve groans before looking up at him. “Eddie?” Steve squint. “You’re pretty. Like Nancy.” And Steve sounds so sad when he says it that even Eddie’s heart gives a little squeeze.

“Uh, thank you,” Eddie glances toward the open doors again. The cake is being wheeled out into the middle of the dance floor. “Listen, I don’t wanna leave you out here, but I gotta go give a speech. Can you, uh, stand up for me?”

“Yeah, man, totally,” Steve slurs out, barely comprehensible. He drags the back of his hand over his lips and chin, which should be kind of disgusting, but Eddie just feels sorry for him. Steve makes it one step before he’s slouching into Eddie’s shoulder, all his weight falling into Eddie’s chest. Eddie grunts and fits his hands around Steve’s waist.

“Fuck, dude, how much do you weigh?” Eddie’s voice comes out a little breathless.

“175, baby. Pure muscle,” Steve slurs back.

“Yeah, I believe it,” Eddie mutters, fingertips digging hard into the firmness of Steve’s lower back. “Okay, come on, let’s get you a chair.”

It takes some maneuvering but Eddie finally gets Steve inside and seats him at the closest table. It’s empty, since most people had been dancing and are currently crowded around the cake. Chrissy’s sister, the maid of honor, is holding a microphone, finishing her speech.

“We love you, Chrissy,” she’s saying, looking at the bride with tears in her eyes. “We know that Gareth will do everything in his power to make you happy. To Gareth and Chrissy!” She raises her glass of champagne, smiling, and everyone around her does the same, echoing her toast. “Okay, now where’s the best man?” She says, scanning the crowd.

Eddie smiles and makes his way over, taking the microphone from her.

“When I met Gareth, we were five years old. We’ve been through a lot together, from Gareth’s bug eating phase, to his wetting the bed phase, to that phase he had where he used to Naruto run to class in middle school, to his Hitchcock phase where he tried to talk in that transatlantic accent for literal months, to his bleach blonde phase, to his—”

“Alright, alright, we get it,” Gareth cuts in, rolling his eyes with an easy smile. The crowd laughs.

“Okay, okay. All I’m saying is I’ve seen a lot of versions of my best friend. But the best Gareth by far is the one he is with Chrissy. I remember when Gareth first met her, in their art history seminar. He came back to the dorm after that first week and told me he’d met an angel. ‘I’m in love, dude,’ he told me. ‘I’m marrying this girl.’ I, of course, was skeptical, especially when he pointed her out later that month in the dining hall. ‘Sorry, man, but no way. She’s way outta your league,’ I told him. But to my surprise, Chrissy Cunningham came marching up to us right then and there and asked Gareth if he’d started studying for their midterm. Gareth stumbled through that whole interaction making an absolute fool of himself. I’m pretty sure he put his elbow in my mashed potatoes,” Gareth and Chrissy laugh, “but that didn’t stop Chrissy from asking him to study that weekend. And the rest is, as they say, history.” Eddie raises his own glass of champagne in the direction of the happy couple. “When Gareth told me he was marrying Chrissy, all I could say was ‘it’s about fucking time.’ Chrissy is the smartest, sweetest woman I’ve ever had the pleasure to meet and she somehow makes my best friend an even better dude. So thank you, Chrissy, and congratulations to you both.” Everyone raises their glasses. Over the sounds of the room toasting, Eddie can hear Steve at his table in the back corner drunkenly cheering.

“Woo-hoo!” Steve claps. “Yeah!” Thankfully, no else really seems to notice and Eddie watches over Chrissy’s shoulder as Steve tries to stand from his seat but falls back into it on his ass, looking dazed.

“Thanks, Eddie,” Chrissy whispers as they pull away from their hug. “I love you.”

“Love you, too, babe,” Eddie tells her, squeezing her hands in his. He glances back over at Steve. “I’m gonna take Harrington up to my room, let him sleep some of the alcohol off.”

Chrissy’s eyes widen. “Oh, good idea. I was a little worried about him when I saw him stumbling around the dance floor before.” Eddie gives her hands one final squeeze before wandering off to collect Steve.

~*~

Getting Steve into the elevator is a struggle. He doesn’t want to leave, keeps saying he didn’t even get to eat a piece of cake yet. He only lets Eddie shove him through the metal doors when Eddie promises to bring him a piece when he comes back up later.

They make it to Eddie’s room without further incident and once they’re safely inside, Steve starts ripping off his suit without a care in the world. His hands and arms are flying everywhere. He almost takes Eddie out with an elbow to the temple.

“Dude, calm down,” Eddie tells him, hands on Steve’s arms. “Let me help you.” He unbuttons what’s left of Steve’s shirt and hangs it over the closet doorknob before reaching for Steve’s waistband and undoing his fly. His suit pants fall around his ankles. “Okay, step out.”

Steve braces his hands on Eddie’s shoulders and lifts one leg and then the other, until he’s standing there in only his briefs and his dress socks.

“Thought about this a lot in college,” Steve mutters, still slurring his words.

And that—huh? What? Thought about what a lot? Eddie undressing him?

Eddie does his best not to react. Steve’s drunk. He doesn’t know what he’s saying.

Eddie brings his own hands up to curl around Steve’s wrists and pull his hands away from his shoulders. He bends down and picks up Steve’s pants, folding them and placing them on the dresser. He folds back the bed’s comforter.

“Okay, big boy, in ya go.” He gestures toward the bed, encouraging Steve to lay down. Steve suddenly looks exhausted as he slides under the covers.

His eyes are half-closed before his head even hits the pillow.

Before Eddie shuts off the light and leaves to head back downstairs, he hears Steve call out softly, “sorry if I ruined it.” He shifts sleepily on the bed. “I always ruin it.”

Eddie feels like he’s swallowed glass as he slowly shuts the door behind him.

~*~

Steve wakes up to sunshine streaming in through the curtains of an unfamiliar bedroom. His head is killing him and his mouth feels like he’s swallowed 87 cotton balls. He groans, rolling away from the window, only to be met with the image of Eddie Munson’s shirtless, sleeping form.

Fuck. How drunk had he been last night? He vaguely remembers puking outside somewhere and Eddie rubbing his back, but he definitely doesn’t remember leaving the wedding. He doesn’t remember leaving the wedding with Eddie.

Steve spares a quick glance under the covers and is relieved to see that he’s still wearing his underwear and Eddie’s got on a pair of pajama pants. Surely he wouldn’t have sex and then put his underwear back on; that seems like something only a serial killer would do.

It’s not like he hasn’t thought about it. There was that one year, just after they’d graduated, that Steve had thought maybe there was something between them, something a little more than friendship.

But then he’d met Nancy Wheeler at his new job and she’d asked him out and he’d started imagining their lives together and thoughts of anyone else had just floated away.

So, yeah, Steve’s thought about it. Eddie’s gorgeous and funny and smart. It’s not like Steve would regret it. He could certainly do a lot worse.

But if he’s gonna sleep with one of his closest friends, he’d like to actually remember it.

In between Steve’s spiraling thoughts, Eddie must have woken up, because when Steve spares another glance toward his face, Eddie’s staring right back at him, making him jump slightly.

“Fuck, dude, make a noise,” Steve breathes out before running a hand through his sleep-tousled hair. “We didn’t—uh, nothing like… happened or whatever, right? We didn’t, like… you know… did we?”

Eddie stares at him for a long moment before putting Steve out of his misery. “No offense, Stevie, but I’m not really into guys that can barely string together a coherent thought.”

“Oh, thank god,” Steve sighs with relief, body sagging against the mattress. He sees Eddie’s mouth twitch. “Not that I… you know, you’re hot or whatever, but like…”

“Dude, relax,” Eddie laughs, moving to sit on the edge of the mattress. “You were black out drunk. I just brought you up here so you didn’t hurt yourself.”

Steve winces. “I didn’t, like, embarrass myself, did I? Or, like, ruin the wedding?”

Eddie looks at him with something like pity and Steve has to swallow nervously.

“No, Steve, you were fine. I just found you throwing up outside and though you’d had enough.”

Steve stares down at his hands. “Thanks, man,” he says softly.

“No worries, you’d do the same for me.” He sounds so totally sure that Steve would. “Weddings are tough. Can you believe I have, like, four more to go to, just this summer? I’ll probably black out at at least one of them. Anyway, I’m gonna take a shower and then you should probably also shower. You stink.” Eddie stands from the bed and claps his hands together. “And then we’re taking full advantage of the free hotel breakfast bar.”

~*~

After they’ve showered and Eddie’s gone back to the breakfast buffet for seconds and thirds, he offers to drive Steve home and Steve gratefully accepts. He’s really not in the mood for an Uber or, even worse, the subway.

Steve keeps thinking about what Eddie had said back in the hotel room. That he had four more weddings to go to this summer alone. Steve has five of his own and the thought of going through all that alone makes his stomach clench and his throat tighten. He knows he’s going to see Nancy at at least one of them and that thought alone has Steve desperate.

“Hey, you know how you said you have four more weddings to go to this summer?” Steve asks from the passengers seat. Eddie hums an affirmative response. “I have five.”

“No shit, that sucks, man. I actually fuckin’ hate weddings, to tell you the truth.” Eddie doesn’t take his eyes off the road.

“I used to love them, actually. But, I don’t know. They’ve kind of lost their charm,” Steve doesn’t mean to sound super mega fucking depressed about it, but he knows he does.

“Fuck, dude. Sorry,” Eddie glances at him, a worried look in his eye.

“But, uh, I was thinking,” Steve powers on. “Maybe we should, like, help each other out?”

Eddie’s brow furrows in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“Like, you know.” Steve gestures vaguely with his hand. “Make it less unbearable. Like, we could go together or something.”

“You want to be each other’s plus ones?” Eddie asks incredulously.

“Yeah, man, think about it. You’d always have someone to chill with, even if the party’s fucking lame. We could make fun of the bridesmaids’ dresses together and shit. It wouldn’t be as god fucking awful if we were together.”

They’re stopped at a red light and Eddie has turned to stare directly at him.

“You do realize that would mean we’d be going to ten weddings, like, collectively, right? Why would I want to go to more weddings then I actually have to?”

“Well, nine, since Chrissy and Gareth’s is over,” Steve tells him, matter-of-factly. “Come on, Eddie, this summer is fucking torture for me. You know Nancy, like, crushed me or whatever. It would really help me out, to have you there. Just think about it.”

And, Steve thinks, that’s kind of what does it. Eddie has a savior complex about a mile wide and Steve has never been above using that to his advantage.

Eddie sighs and shifts his gaze back to the road as the light turns green.

“Fine, Harrington,” he finally says. “But you are paying for all my suit rentals and buying all the gifts.”

Steve smiles. “Deal.”

#steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie fanfic #steddie fanfiction #steddie ficlet #steddie fic recs #steddie au #steddie modern au #steddie rom com au

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