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Come to Bed, ya Eejit
One of them can't sleep, so none of you can rest.
Pairing : Mo Chara & Móglaí Bap x fem! reader (no use of Y/N) (Moglara implied)
Warnings : drug use
Word Count/read time : <1k / 3 minute read time approx
a/n : I literally never know which names to use for them? What they gotta have 2 names each for?
You wake and immediately know something's wrong. There's no sound that tips you off, no change in temperature, light or smell that brings you round, just an instinctive feeling from somewhere deep in your gut that something wasn't right.
You stretched out your hand to your left side, feeling as the mattress dipped down slightly before your finger tips brushed against Mogali's bicep, his skin hot to the touch as he snored softly. You curled your fingers around him and squeezed gently.
"Neesh," you whispered, giving him a soft shove.
"Wha?" he grunted, lifting his other arm and wrapping his hand around yours.
"Where is he?" you asked.
Heated
✦Read on a03! - Masterlist - Dean Masterlist✦ ✦summary: Dean's refusing any help to get over his sex curse, no matter how many women you find for him. If only he'd just tell you why✦ ✦warnings/tags: Dean Winchester x female!reader, no use of y/n, sex pollen, angst, pining, Dean being a dummy (it's okay we love him), big emotions (sex pollen does that), just the nastiest smut (praise kink, soft!dom Dean, finger sucking, fingering, some car sex, dirty talk, oral f!receiving, sex pollen appropriate stamina, overstimulation, body worship, dumbification, creampie), love confessions during sex, light fluff at the end✦ ✦wc: 10k✦ ✦author's note: voted for my the people! this might be the horniest thing i've written ever like i got possessed plz enjoy✦
This room is going to suffocate you.
Outside, there’s a chilling breeze that bites at your ears, and you had to turn the heater off after an hour of Dean whining about it. You’re wearing a few layers and thick, fuzzy socks that slide on the floor. When you look at your fingers, they’re developing a purplish tint under the nails, and you’d think your nose was bleeding if you could feel it at all.
But you’re burning alive. Deep in your stomach with shame, and an arousal you’re not allowed to indulge. It’s wrong, right now, to have flushed cheeks and sweat gathering under your clothing. A tingling heat that’s hidden under the collar of your shirt, and restless fingers as you work, itching to touch something.
Yourself. Just a rub between your thighs for a little pressure of relief to help you focus.
Dean. Lying on the bed, moaning lewdly and humping the sheets like you’re not even in the room.
hold still ; michael ‘robby’ robinavitch
summary: you have a sex dream about your attending that leaves you hot, flustered, late for work, and completely off your game. then things go from bad to worse when gossip spreads and the entire emergency department finds out—including dr. robby.
notes: i honestly haven't been this excited or motivated to write in forever, and i just really hope it doesn't suck. this one feels a little different, kind of like... it just flowed? my writing feels less mechanical, i think? i don't know, i feel like i've been stuck in a rut and even though this isn't perfect, it feels like i finally enjoy writing again. i put so much love into this and tried so hard to get the characters right, i just really hope you guys enjoy! please, please let me know what you think!
warnings: more sitcom than drama (just let them have a good day, i beg you), swearing, italics, reader can drive, medical descriptions, blood, medical procedure descriptions (it's not super graphic though), most definitely incorrect medical information (my friend is a doctor, i am not), implied age gap but never specified, very likely incorrect tagalog (i'm sorry in advance), reader doesn't know tagalog, implied smut but nothing explicit, reader gets injured (and stitches), and making out (on shift, lol, nothing graphic but still, mdni please).
word count: 12763
You wake all at once.
Not slowly, not gently, but with one sharp inhale like you’ve surfaced from deep water.
For a second you don’t know where you are. Your room is too warm, the air too heavy, every inch of your skin flushed and slick with sweat. Heat clings to you, your heart pounding wildly in your ears, sheets twisted tight around your legs, and for one disorienting moment you swear you can still feel him—warm hands, breath close, the dizzying pull of something forbidden and overwhelming.
The echo of his voice follows you up from sleep, low and wrecked and impossibly real.
Dr. Robby.
Your stomach flips.
“Fuck,” you mumble into your pillow, already mortified, already knowing your brain has crossed a line it absolutely shouldn’t have this time.
Because it didn’t feel like a dream. It still doesn’t. Fragments flash behind your eyelids—the way he touched you, his voice softer than you’ve ever heard it, the teasing burn of stubble where he shouldn’t have been close enough to touch.
You roll onto your back and drag both hands over your face, groaning quietly as awareness settles in piece by piece. Your pulse refuses to slow, every nerve still humming like your body missed the memo that none of it actually happened.
You stare at the ceiling.
“…You have got to be kidding me.”
18+ , smut
Imagine, you laying on your bed. Writhing against the sheets. Your hands pulling at the sheets, moving in your hair, dragging down your face as you breathe heavy. You feel like you could cry and not even the bad kind.
The reason? Ryland Grace. One of his knees on the bed, the mattress dipping from the weight it's supporting. You can feel the warmth on your thigh from his skin. One of his hands on your stomach, pressing slightly as the other worked inside you.
Three fingers in. Dragging slowly against the inside, like he was scooping your soul out. Your hips moved under the pressure of both of his hands. A press of his thumb against your clit and you are blabbering-
"oh fuck- Grace- fuck.. oh- please, please, please- no, please -", you don't even know what you are saying. It feels like your tongue is loose. Your head tilts back. You are so close to sobbing from overstimulation or the lack of stimulation? You are sure, neither of you know.
"uh huh", he nods. You can see him lick his lips through your blurred vision, "I can't understand you. You're gonna have to use your words", he looks down at you from above his glasses.
"I wanna cum-", you whined. "You wanna cum?", he sounded way too proud.
You nodded way too eagerly, "please, please- yes, I want to", you closed your eyes. Head pressing against the sheets, lips pressed together as you focused more on the feeling of his fingers inside.
His thumb formed callouses from years of holding his pen wrong and it pressing directly against your clit. Making your jaw slack and mouth hanging open from a silent gasp.
"okay, okay", he was too proud. "You're gonna cum in five, okay?", you nodded, "nuh-uh", he shook his head. "I need words, com on. Your mouth still works, I know"
"yes- yes!", you forced out. "Good- now count with me"
"five", his thumb moved everytime he pulled his fingers out just to push it back in.
"four", every push in, he would curl them in and drag them out.
"three", your eyes felt too hooded. The knot in your stomach drawing closer and closer as you felt your hips push against his hand.
"two", the pressure of his other hand increased against your stomach. Oh, fuck.
One, didn't even have to voice it. You were already arching off of the bed. Your hand finding purchase on his arm, nails digging in as the other pressed against your mouth. Your hips moved on their own to ride the orgasm out.
After a few seconds of muscle spasm and your legs closing tightly around his hand, did you calm down. Chest still moving from rapid breathing. The hand on your mouth moved to your hair, slight damp against your forehead.
You finally glanced at Ryland when the hand on your stomach moved to wipe sweat or tears, you weren't sure, from under your eye. He had the biggest smile, "hi", he whispered. Fuck him.
can you guys tell I have a thing for hand against the stomach..
my moon my man.
synopsis / years of knowing ryland as one of your adjunct lecturers led to built up tension piling into one lump as you were deployed to work alongside with dr. grace, the lump now threatening to burst.
ship/ ryland grace x f!reader
cw/ 18+, smut, exhibitionism (in the lab...), soft top ryland, whimpering, age gap but both are consenting adults, missionary, making out, declarations of feelings, crying lawl, creampie, project hail mary spoilers!
wc/ 8.2k
an/ lets imagine that ryland has taught as a lecturer before in and out while teaching middle schoolers... blueish theme bcs nerdy space men yummers, alternatively you can read in ao3 here!
“Dr Grace…?”
“Dr Ryland Grace.”
Stratt reiterates, looking at you with those piercing eyes, a gaze undoubtedly her.
“You will be working alongside him so it won’t be a one man job and your lecturers have said you are one of the best students they have, straight A’s, intriguing reports and outcomes from your experiments.”
She leans back a little on her office chair, voice lowering to a more serious degree.
“You are lucky that connections brought you this far, being involved in a top secret project issued by the government is a huge feat for a student of your age, let alone shadowing one of our brilliant scientists.”
You gulped,
“So do you understand the matter at hand?”
Your clammy hands fiddled with each other on your lap.
“Yes,”
“Good, and you know what top secret means right? Say a word about this and we will have to, unfortunately, terminate you with immediate effect or worse.”
‘Or worse’ those words rang in your head as you clearly knew what she meant by that.
You then leave her office, hands shaking just a little bit as you start to process what you are getting yourself into.
Dr Ryland Grace, you remember now, he became your substitute lecturer for a module on Molecular Biology once and your class simultaneously agreed he was a quirky yet knowledgeable guy.
The only person whose eyes used to always be gently fixated on you as you explain your beliefs and opinions. Like he meant no harm and just wanted to understand your soul.
How did this man go from teaching to working for one of the most risky projects ever launched by the government?
In fact, how did you end up here?
Your lecturer came forward to you asking for help as someone asked him to introduce as many brilliant minds as he could possibly find for the government, and your foolish self thought that this was your time to shine and land your mark on a secure job for life.
Only to end up here, paid handsomely with the propaganda fed into your mind that you are going to save the world from a possible crisis in 30 hypothetical years.
But at least there is a familiar face.
–
Walking behind Stratt with her team of guards surrounding you, she stops at a lab, unlocking the door to reveal a room painted white, filled to the brim with scientific equipment. You could immediately recognise some of the equipment as you have used them before.
But your eyes lingered longer on the only person in the lab, a man wearing a white lab coat just like you with dirty blonde hair.
“This is Dr Grace, you will be working with him and assisting in samples as he tends to more important matters.”
The man hunched back over the microscope turns around quickly from the sudden entrance, locking eyes with you as he looks confused.
A sudden feeling of sentimentalism overwhelmed you.
“W-what is this…?” Dr Grace stutters.
“You will have an assistant now, one of my friend’s brilliant students. Give her some valuable knowledge as she will be shadowing you too.” Stratt tells Dr Grace as he fixes his crooked glasses.
“...Why?”
But before Dr Grace could ask any further, Stratt and her bodyguards walked out of the lab, leaving you and Dr Grace in there alone.
It was silent for a while. You could only look down and play with your lab coat, waiting for any orders from your now superior Dr Grace.
As silent as the lab was, Dr Grace’s mind was a storm. The student he taught now serves as his assistant, the same student who always had questions for him after lectures, staying back to crack problems with him and debate philosophical topics that tie with scientific facts.
The last person he could talk to about his controversial opinions and not feel judged, including the report that sent hate mail to his doorstep and caused Stratt to hire him, you did not judge.
The most down-to-earth woman he has ever met is now standing in front of him after years of no contact.
“Hey, I taught you before.” He tried to start the conversation,
You looked up to see him sheepishly grin.
“Oh yeah… I remembered.”
“Wow, how long has it been?”
“A while… I’m graduating soon.”
His eyes widened for a little bit.
“I’m old huh,” He scoffs.
“You still look as young as I remembered,” You joked, and he breathlessly chuckled .
You chuckled nervously too and as if he could suddenly sense the awkwardness in the room, he gestures to you.
“Oh yeah you’re still standing– I-I’m sorry, here.”
He stands up to push a lab chair beside him, offering you to sit.
“So… what led you here?”
“Lecturer recommendation… I had to sign a lot of forms and stuff I think I’m signing myself up for a suicide mission.”
Dr Grace’s smile faltered a little bit, but just for a moment so subtle you could catch it.
“Well it technically is, 3 astronauts are going on a one-way mission to space as there won’t be enough Astrophage to bring them back.”
He sighs,
“All in the name of saving mother earth am I right?”
You giggle nervously again as you start feeling a sense of dread and regret overwhelm you, but you try to push it away.
“I’m sorry, Stratt did not tell me I will have an assistant or whatever she said so I was not prepared at all,” He apologises,
“Its okay,” You said,
Silence plucked the atmosphere,
“What’s Astrophage?”
His eyes lit up.
“Thought you wouldn’t have asked,” He grins and you take notice of his stubble, his lazy eyes protected by his glasses that sat so well on his face.
You shook your head as if the thoughts could disperse as you stood up to follow him to another corner of the lab.
There lay a microscope, with the sample on the metal plate showing a black blob of goo smeared across.
“Try looking.” He smiles again and you lean your dominant eye to the lens.
Laying in your vision were a bunch of black molecules, moving, as if they were alive.
“...It’s a cell.” You said out loud, unsure if it's a question or a statement.
“Yes, it is a cell.” Dr Grace replies as you look at him.
“You discovered a new species of being?”
“Well n-not me, I was just sent here to research on how Astrophage behaves so we can start preparations to use it as fuel.” He looked away momentarily and adjusted his glasses. Shifting his gaze to you again, you could see his eyes dart from your lips back to your eyes, quick as if not wanting you to notice.
“...” You stayed silent.
“So it's an alien? That's groundbreaking.” You tried to keep your cool.
“Yeah, and they breed too, like any other species.” He leans his arm against the shelf as if to look like he is chill as he could tell how shocked you are.
“Now we just need 2 million kilograms of this bad boy to send 3 astronauts to their deaths.”
You scoffed as that sense of dread and regret slowly washed away.
It felt as if the dream duo had finally reunited, except now these two nerds are going to put all that philosophical debate into scientific research that could hypothetically save the world.
–
Day 3, Night
“You should go rest now”
Dr Grace’s voice bounced off the walls as the clock struck 9pm.
“I think I’m having a breakthrough—
“Thats the millionth time you said that,”
“Yes because I have a hunch that I’ve put 99% of my trust on right now,”
Dr Grace just sighs.
“Okay this is an order, rest, now.”
You took your hands off the chamber and huffed like a 10 year old having a temper tantrum. You bit your lip out of thinking what to say to that, eyes looking at him pleadingly.
He had to look at the wall behind you to stop paying attention to the way your bottom lip looks tugged below your teeth, and your eyebrows slightly crooked, eyes glossy from hours of work and exhaustion.
God he is going crazy isn’t he?
“You will be stuck in this lab for the next quarter of your life, miss,” Dr Grace exaggerates as if to coax you into having some shut eye.
“Fine, can I just lie on two chairs here or something?”
Dr Grace sighs again, louder this time.
“Sure, just go rest.”
Propping yourself on the two chairs, you formed a makeshift bed to rest on as you stretched your limbs, letting out small whines from your tense muscles finally relaxing.
Dr Grace takes over you, putting on the safety equipment as he sticks his hands into the black gloves attached to the isolation chamber, analysing the sample after an experiment you made from your hypothesis on Astrophage breeding.
Well it didn’t work and you didn’t know how to recreate the conditions Astrophage survived on in the Petrova Line. However you did discover the conditions Astrophage needed, and that was during your first few days here.
You’re just too into this project and he could feel all your hard work and dedication in making this project a successful one.
You’re just bubbling with curiosity and passion. It makes him smile unknowingly, the same smile he gets whenever his middle school students excitedly answer his questions.
Even for a project that threatens everyone involved in it to die, you still tried your best.
“Hey, I have this idea for a set up to see how they thrive in their—
Looking back as Dr Grace was rambling, he sees you sleeping peacefully on your makeshift bed, lightly snoring, noticing that you also forgot to take off your lab coat.
His heart quenches a little from the sight.
You looked cute.
But he shook that thought away, it has only been a couple of days and he suddenly feels some sort of connection to a student he developed a close bond with a while back and is 10 years younger than him? Illegal.
He just smiles softly.
Looking up at the clock it was now reaching 9:30pm.
And his eyes did feel droopy but he did not want to disturb your rest or leave you alone all by yourself.
So he took off his lab coat and made a makeshift bed for himself at the other side of the room too, with enough space to observe your sleeping habits.
The way your body shivers when the AC casts another gush of cold wind at you, your arms crossing so that your hands won’t get cold, and your body huddling up into a small cocoon to feel safe.
All of it makes you, you.
And that thought made him fall asleep gradually.
—
The days flew by since then.
Having a dorm on the ship now, you just wake up and go for work but it wasn’t so bad doing work with Dr Grace.
He wasn’t authoritative, nor does he slack, he leads you with grace (pun intended) and in a way whereby following his orders doesn’t feel forced, it just feels natural.
Even amidst a crisis, and knowing that the government is using you guys as guinea pigs to save the world, it felt as if the world spun slower whenever you’re with him.
It felt so wrong as you slowly started looking at him as less of an educational figure, but more of a comfort person and maybe now more attractive?
Maybe it's what weeks of isolation in the middle of sea does to you, but the bond you used to have with him is back, just ten times more intimate and explosive.
You are barely scraping the surface of your 20s at 21 years old and now you are attracted to a man reaching his 40s, 35 years old.
You could only roll on your bed thinking back on your findings and reminding yourself of objectives to be achieved the next working day, just to have your mind float back to Dr Ryland Grace.
The way his fingers brush against yours when passing around equipment, his woody scent flooding your senses while looking into isolation chambers to see what you are doing, or when you shadow him in his work, your eyes lingering at the way his biceps curl and his glasses slide off his nose bridge at every cute nose scrunch.
You were going crazy.
Maybe it was his nerdy charm, the way he sheepishly rubs his face after every bad joke that you still giggled at, but it's what made him, him.
—
Day 6, Morning
“What are you doing here so early?” Dr Grace walks into the lab as he brushes past your figure to put his belongings at the back.
“Math, to see how much energy we need for the Astrophage breeding process.”
You were sitting on a chair with a whiteboard marker in hand, calculating formulas, while Dr Grace put on his lab coat.
“Didn’t we agree that it won’t be an issue as Astrophage doubles its population every 8 days?”
“Yeah but they did say it's a one-way trip using 2 kilograms of Astrophage right?”
Dr Grace leans against the counter, facing you and your whiteboard a bit too closely.
“What if we can actually make it a two-way trip and have another 2 kilograms of Astrophage? Making 4?”
He looked at you with a perplexed expression, half wanting you to go further with the formula you are using and the other half wanting you to stop or it could risk you terminating.
“I actually had the same thought too after what Stratt said,”
“Right?” You looked at him with a glimmer in your eyes.
He found that so attractive.
“If we use Albert Einstein's formula of special relativity, we would need 1.5 megajoules of energy to make 1kg of Astrophage stores, so we could quite literally make more as we can already make 1kg of Astrophage in two days, imagine if we wait for the next doubling cycle and—
“You’re too passionate, you know that?”
Your head whips up to meet Dr Grace’s eyes through his spectacles, flow state interrupted but it’s okay because Dr Grace just gave you a compliment.
“Huh?”
“I used to think that I was so stupid for being in this project because I do what I do best and suddenly I’m in a project that threatens my life.”
He looks down at you with a soft smile, enjoying the sight of you looking up at him with curious eyes, the way you bite your bottom lip in anticipation of what he is saying next.
“You are a brilliant student, you know that? …I would have done the same thing as what you are doing now, questioning the norms but I don’t want you to risk your life.”
“How am I risking my life doing a math problem that could possibly save 3 astronauts.”
His eyes looked at you with a small tinge of sadness.
“Because they do not care, the government does not care.”
He said that as if he only had the dawning realisation a few days ago, and your heart drops.
He leans in closer, pulling a chair to sit beside you as you could feel his breath fan your lips lightly.
“They only cared about how fast we can breed this species just so they can carry on with the project and eventually go back to their original jobs.”
He rubs his face and chuckles nervously.
“Y-you’re just brilliant! Working for a top secret project but seriously I don’t want to lose you just because of your curiosity, though it's your curiosity that makes you special to me.”
His eyes looked more yearning now, full of admiration as they darted from your lips to your eyes.
“Dr Grace…”
“I think we can drop the formalities, right?”
The air grew thick, and the tension was too much to bear.
You started breathing deeply as if you ran a marathon but all you did was have intimate eye contact with Dr Grace as he looks like he just wants to eat you up here and now.
Unknowingly, you start slowly leaning in, and Dr Grace does too.
His hand starts creeping to ghost over your waist.
Fuck this is too much for you, what if he regrets it?
You sharply pull away as you realise the situation at hand and nervously hold the marker up again to continue on with your problem.
Dr Grace pulls away, coughs and adjusts his glasses as he awkwardly stands up to pull the chair away.
“I-I’ll… go get some coffee.”
He immediately left the lab to head to the nearest vending machine and you didn’t dare to even spare a look at him, just staring at your hand holding the whiteboard marker so tightly it might pop.
Shit, you fucked up big time.
Your eyes tear a bit from the anxiety of what could have happened just now as you unknowingly dragged the marker across the sleek whiteboard, forming forced jagged lines.
It is obvious now that you want him, and it's going to harm your reputation, and even your relationship with your superior Dr Grace.
The tears started rolling, and you don’t even know why you are sobbing.
Why did you chicken out?
—
Dr Grace comes back to seclude himself at the other side of the lab, refusing to be near you in fear that you would be uncomfortable with his presence.
That coffee run he made was so that he could go to the nearby toilet to look in the mirror and give himself a pep talk.
This is detrimental to his career.
Why would he let his own feelings surface in the workplace?
This was the stupidest thing he has ever done and that includes joining this project.
His hands clenched the sink threatening to shatter it into pieces as he pants.
How is he going to face you now? Would you guys still be friends?
The idea of losing you sends him into a panic attack so he just stops right there and then, leaving the toilet to actually grab a coffee with more espresso shots than needed to keep his sanity at bay.
Back at the lab he just did his thing while you did yours with absolutely zero conversations, which is not usual for both of you guys.
You even went to lunch without him and he could tell how much you’ve tried to avoid him. In the food bay when you got your lunch you sharply avoided him as he entered, on the way back to the lab at times, whenever he comes around, you take the longer route to avoid him, just to not have any contact with him.
And honestly? It hurts.
By the time it was the evening and it was time to clock out in two hours, Dr Grace isolated himself in the lab, barely doing any work, just staring into space.
You weren’t in the lab though.
Which worries him.
Where did you go?
Speaking about the devil, you eventually came in, and he noticed, he always notices, your eyes were redder than usual, nose blushing a cute shade of red.
You avoided his gaze to take your seat in front of the whiteboard again, putting on your lab coat and continuing off a problem you made again that this time touches on the speed of light.
Dr Grace could only look at you worryingly, eyes burning holes into your back.
He does not want to hurt you at all, never.
All he could do was analyse your body language and guess your wellbeing, he always analyses anyway.
Suddenly, you let out a light sob, dropping the whiteboard marker uncapped and then resting your head against your hands, elbows on your knees.
Light sobs became harder ones and suddenly you were full on crying.
You knew Dr Grace was behind you, yet you just didn’t care, you felt so frustrated this whole day. A mix of emotions regarding your superior and the work you have been doing, is it all worth it in the end?
You heard a light skiing sound on the floor, and before you knew it, Dr Grace had slided his chair from his side to yours, finally breaking the invisible boundary you guys have placed this whole day since that morning.
“What’s wrong?” His voice was soft, not wanting to look at you too much or else you would feel overwhelmed, but his body still faces you.
You lightly sobbed into your hands before whipping your head up to breathe and wiping your tears away with your hands.
“I…” You can’t say anything.
“Take your time, it’s okay to cry, let it all out,” His soft affirmations made you smile unknowingly and that made him smile too.
Maybe being a middle school teacher has its perks when it comes to understanding emotions and regulating one's nervous system.
You continued crying.
“This is so frustrating.” You sobbed out, breathing deeply in and out so that you won’t have a panic attack.
“Just breathe,” His words soothed you again.
You have been avoiding him this whole day and now he is comforting you while you’re having a breakdown. God you felt like an asshole.
His hand lingered behind your back, as if not knowing if you would want him to touch you or not, but seeing your current state, he gently soothed your back, making sure you don’t choke on your cries.
And that could have lulled you to sleep.
“Are you okay with this?” He asks, gesturing to his hand on your back.
“More than okay,” You sniffed, finally cooling down.
It was silent for a while, just you regulating your emotions as Dr Grace continued soothing your back gently. His hand felt so soothing, so reassuring, and suddenly your mind drifted back to the fantasies you had in your dorm about the veins in his arms but you shook your head lightly to dissipate those thoughts.
“Feeling better now?” He asks gently again,
You nodded, as you are breathing more normally now.
“I’m sorry Dr Grace.”
“Drop the formalities, its Ryland and you know it,” You chuckled,
“I’m sorry Ryland,”
That sent a shiver down his spine, he liked the way you said his name.
“Don’t apologise for your emotions dork,” You chuckled again,
“Shut up,” You whine and he chuckles.
You finally locked eyes with him for the first time since this morning, and his eyes darted across your face, your features more redder now, cheeks stained with dried up tears and lips red from biting.
You look so pretty.
Pretty even after you just had a meltdown.
Your eyes darted down to his lips too, and he noticed.
“Do you want this?” You asked,
“I do,” He said without hesitation but so nervously too,
And as you lean in slowly, his hand that was on your back slowly reaches up to cradle your jaw.
Finally, as he leaned in too, your lips caressed his lips softly. He closes his eyes, breathing shakily as if he doesn’t want to fuck this up. Your hands were fidgeting on your lap from nerves.
Slowly y'all pulled away, and even though it was just a peck, Ryland looks like he has run a marathon and your hands already felt clammy.
Sensing that both of you guys want more, his hand gently reaches to the back of your head, fingers weaving through your hair as you guys kiss again, but harder and more passionate this time.
You craned your head to the side to kiss him deeper as he whined softly, tongue feeling yours as sparks flew across his stomach and butterflies filled your tummy.
Your arms instinctively wrapped around his neck and suddenly he pulled away.
Your heart drops.
“W-wait, sorry, the blinds aren’t closed.”
Phew
He stands up to close the blinds as you follow him to his side of the lab, and he reaches out for you to straddle his lap as you guys kiss again, but this time more fervently, like there’s no time to waste.
His hands had a mind of its own, caressing your thighs through your work pants as your arms finally wrapped around his neck to play with the small hairs on his nape.
“You’re beautiful.” He mutters amidst the kiss and you giggle.
“Stop it,”
“It's true!” He gleams as his nose touches yours so intimately, before he leaves small kisses on your cheeks, leading them down to the side of your neck as you gasp.
“Dr Grace…”
That sent a spike of pleasure down to his groin.
“Hmm don’t say that,”
“Why?” You giggle breathlessly as he bit onto your neck as if to punish or award you for calling him out formally.
“You know why,” He stops kissing you to lay his forehead against yours, as if to engrain this moment into his memories permanently.
“Have you done this before Ry?”
He shakes his head.
“I had a girlfriend before, but it was only for a few months, nothing happened.” His eyes looked at you with desperation, trying to analyse how you feel.
“It’s okay, just wanted to know,” You smile,
“How about you?”
“Flings here and there, I never really had a man actually love my soul,”
I will love and understand your soul
He wanted to say that so badly but he didn’t want to scare you away, and you guys are in the middle of making out.
“I understand,”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,”
Both of you guys chuckled as you noticed it's going to be an hour to clocking out of work.
So you initiated the kiss again, and he groaned, relishing in the feeling of how your lips felt and tongue twisting with his. His wandering hands reach up to squeeze your waist lightly which earned him a soft moan from you, that made his pants tighten just a little bit.
The whole time spent was just you and him exploring each other’s mouths, hands wandering about touching each other’s bodies so intimately as if y’all never want this to end.
“You’re so passionate, so amazing” He keeps saying as he sometimes leaves love bites all over the column of your throat, as your hands gently tug onto his blonde hair earning you small gasps from him.
Suddenly, your love bubble had to be popped when someone knocked the door, leaving you and Ryland to stop and freeze.
Out of panic, Ryland for some reason puts you under his desk, making it seem like you’re doing work while you’re off doing something else.
The awkward position made you chuckle a bit and made Ryland rub his face from how dumb he is having placed you under his desk in between his legs.
Suddenly Carl comes in.
“Dr Grace?”
“Yes?” Ryland coughs before answering,
Carl scans the room.
“Do you know where your assistant is?”
“Why? What for?”
“Stratt needs to see her now,”
His breathing laboured a bit.
And as the conversation carries on, all you could focus on was Ry’s groin right in front of you. You felt like a pervert, but you suddenly had a crazy idea.
He’s half-hard anyway from what you can tell.
Ryland’s eyes locked with yours underneath him as he said, “I think she has gone somewhere else, maybe you guys can see her another day? like tomorrow?”
He mouths out, don’t do it to you but you were so bratty and cheeky you did not care.
However you cared about consent and you mouthed to him if he wanted to continue. He bites his lip as if trying to balance the pros and cons of the situation but eventually gives in and mouthed a yes. In which you gave a mischievous grin.
Unbuttoning his pants slowly, you unzipped his fly, making sure that the sound of it wasn’t loud, and you are now face to face with his boxers which of course, had stupid science puns all over with images of triangular beakers everywhere.
His face went red and he covered it with his two hands as if it could cool himself down.
“Stratt just wants to talk to her about something regarding her position here in the project.”
“W-what about it?” Ryland stutters as you slowly pull down the waistband of his boxers.
He breathes in sharply as cold air shoots against his cock now fully hard. Fuck this is embarrassing. If he isn’t as red as a tomato now he would be so surprised
Eyes darting down he could see your eyes hazing out as you eyed his cock like it was some trophy you won and he could cum there and then.
He was thick, girthy, average length with a small blonde bush. There was a small happy trail and light veins going down his pelvis to the base. You can tell he furnishes himself once in a while.
“Confidential, just tell me where she is,”
Suddenly your tongue darted towards his slit and his eyes blew wide open as he tried not to moan loudly or cum.
“Are you okay Dr Grace?”
“Y-yeah, headache—
Your mouth finally envelops his head, sucking gently and he could only intake sharp deep breaths as if to look like he is sick.
He tried not to roll his eyes back, hands gripping the office chair for life.
“Sorry, I shouldn’t be bothering you right now,”
“N-no no, hhh it's okay, s-she is probably getting coffee or in the toilet ah—or something.”
Your wet mouth went down slowly, sucking his cock like a vacuum and he could only just shiver in his seat, holding his hips back from thrusting up into your mouth while trying to avoid suspicion from Carl.
“Okay, sorry for bothering, continue on with your work and get some early rest Dr Grace.”
“Hhm— Y-yes no worries, goodnight Carl!!”
That last phrase was a bit louder than he intended and once Carl leaves the lab twisting the door knob shut. Ryland could only roll his eyes back finally, trying to just gasp silently, in fear that Carl is still outside.
“Y-yes oh—“
You continued sucking, hands resting on his thighs as you bobbed your head.
Ryland could only look down at you as he shivered, trying not to cum so quickly.
“You’re doing so w-well— ah fudge—"
He starts getting louder as he thinks Carl isn’t outside anymore, hand hovering over your head as if debating if he should weave his fingers through your hair locks.
He did not want to force you or hurt you.
But as you moan while sucking him off, you push his hand onto your head, and that makes his hips tremble as he pushes you down fully.
That did it, he suddenly felt that band of warmth in his abdomen snap in half so quickly he didn’t even realise, and he thrusts his hips up forcefully, making you gag as he cums hard.
He could not give you a warning as he groaned loudly, letting out guttural sounds like this orgasm was forcefully pulled out of him because of you, like he got punched in the stomach.
His eyes rolled back momentarily before shutting them tightly, trying to get his bearings back by tugging your hair hard but not pulling, whole body trembling as shocks of pleasure sprinkle across his body.
You gagged and tears rolled down your cheeks, but you just swallowed everything he could give you, nails digging crescents into his pants.
As aftershocks lingered, he tried breathing in deeply but ended up whining as he felt your tongue still slobbering all over the underside while still deep in your throat.
“F-fudge you’re amazing, ahh—“ He still wasn’t cursing after you gave him the best head he has ever received (And his first ever).
His body slowly stopped trembling and his hand tried to soothe the back of your head while shivering, trying to adjust your hair back to how it was before and making sure he didn’t hurt you.
“T-thank you thank you—“ He whimpers as he slowly breathes in and out while you slowly let go with a pop.
Looking down at you with dilated pupils, you looked up at him with such an innocent smile as you licked the droplets of his arousal that were at the corners of your mouth.
“F-fuuuhdge don’t do that,” You laughed as he tried not to curse.
“Get up your knees must hurt,” His hands quickly pulled you up by your arm pits so as to have you sit on his lap, his other hand pulling up his boxers but you stopped him.
“Do you want more?” You asked him as your hands held his face so endearingly that he rubs his face against one of your palms, wanting your touch.
“Do you want more?” He emphasised ‘you’.
You nodded, and he nodded too.
His hands held your waist again as y’all made out again, tasting his own arousal in a mix with your saliva but he did not care, in fact he found that arousing.
He whines kissing you, taking his time to feel the way your lips move against his as the night comes to an end.
–
“Y-yes just like that–” You moan out with Ryland below you, tongue flat against you and his eyes fixated on every pleasurable reaction you let out with his glasses still on.
While clocking out, you dragged Ryland to your dorm in fear of any hidden cameras in the lab (which there is), and almost as soon as the door to your dorm locks shut, he pushed you against the door gently and kissed you again with a sense of urgency.
And as the kiss deepens, each of you strip off your clothes, his eager hands feeling your breasts, gently touching them like you’re delicate, while your hands smoothed down his body, and for a science teacher and doctor, he is built like the terminator.
But you love it, love the way he had small blonde hairs all over his chest, his pecs lightly forming and his biceps curling as his hands squeezed your waist. It all made you lightheaded in a good way.
Now he is deep face first in between your thighs, eating you out and gripping your thighs to spread them apart like you are gonna slip away from his grasp.
His tongue was skilled in finding your weak points as he could analyse every sound and expression you give him. Maybe it's his years of managing emotional middle schoolers and noticing every detail in every experiment he makes, but he now knows what you like.
You love when his tongue flicks against your clit before flattening out to lap across your slit, loves when he sucks your clit hard before soothing it out again with his tongue, or when he penetrates his tongue into you as his thumb rubs your clit with such intense precision your thighs threatened to clamp his head.
He moans from your taste, tongue lapping up your arousal like he’s dying of thirst, spectacles foggy and crooked on his nose bridge. You were losing your mind, it has been how long since he started eating you? You don’t know, all you could focus on was the way his moans vibrate against your clit, the lower half of his face damp from your arousal.
“Ry you’re doing so good.” You gasp out as your hands tugged onto his hair just to stabilise yourself, making him groan even more.
Looking down through your teary eyelids, he looked so desperate, eyes half lidded as all he could care about right now was getting you off the same way you did for him. The sight of him eagerly eating you out and tasting you for the first time was so heavenly you nearly came.
What you didn’t know was Ryland grinding his bare cock against the sheets, trying to get any source of friction he can against him as he indulges in you, relishing in the tanginess of your arousal as your whines bounced off the walls of the room.
You were getting so loud, and you tried to stay silent but Ryland didn’t like that and just sucked your clit even <em>harder.</em> All you could do was writhe against the sheets, toes curling as your eyes kept rolling to the back of your skull.
“Dr Grace– please oh,”
Not the formality.
He moaned loudly against your pussy from hearing you moan out his formal name and he began sucking your clit and waving his tongue side to side, before inserting his middle finger in you.
The feeling of his finger now slowly curling into you blew your eyes wide open as you threw your head back. Your legs were shaking, trying to clamp onto his head and kicking relentlessly, but for a teacher his strength was enough to hold you still, and flick your clit over and over again with his tongue.
“F-fuuckk”
“Language,” He jokes breathlessly as his finger is finally curling into you, eyes analysing your reactions to see where he should curl it at, and once your eyes start rolling back, bingo.
“Whoop there it is,”
“S-shut up– ahh~”
He smiles as he left one final lap across your slit which made your hips shiver, before curling against that one spot eagerly, going at a quicker pace while his eyes eat up how good you look, hair sweaty against your forehead, eyes rolling back, your tits shaking and moving with every twitch of your body, and drool leaking from the corners of your mouth letting out moans and gasps of pleasure.
Resting his cheek against your inner thigh, he grinds his cock against the sheets even harder, relishing in your pleasure. Slowly he added his ring finger inside, forcing a choked moan out of you, as your body writhes.
You then started sobbing from the pleasure and how numb your legs felt being spread apart for such a long time.
“Dr G-Grace– yes yes yes– f-fudge,”
Your eyes rolled back for the millionth time and he smiles realising you’re not cursing anymore.
“Good girl,”
His fingers sped up as he started flicking his tongue against your clit and you whined loudly from his praise and stimulation, one hand now pulling the corners of your pillow for life as the other tugged onto his hair roots.
You were crying from the pleasure and how overwhelming it felt, as Ry’s thrusts against the sheets grew harder, his precum staining them.
He groans against your clit as he starts sucking even harder if possible, his fingers curling and tugging so fast like he wants you to cum, now.
“F-fudge I’m cumming, cumming so har–
Throwing your head back, your hips thrusted up and through the ringing in your ears, you can hear Ry’s moaning growing even louder while continuously sucking your clit as you start squirting.
You kept saying ’fudge’ even amidst one of the hardest orgasms you have ever felt, as you cried and sobbed in ecstasy. His fingers still curled even harder as you tightened, his face now soaking wet with your arousal.
But he didn’t care, he just wanted to taste you and as your body writhes against the sheets, he lets you clamp his head with your thighs, his glasses now a meter away from dropping off his face as his free hand reaches down to rub himself.
He felt like a pervert, but in seeing how good you must have felt as his now soggy fingers curled in you, he came in just a few tugs, legs trembling as he came all over your sheets, groaning and relishing in the feeling of your plump thighs against his cheeks.
By the time you cooled down, your body was still trembling, and Ryland took his fingers out of you as he laps your slit gently, coaxing you from your high. He pants as if he came too and you grew suspicious, but you slowly let your legs down, wincing in pain from how numb they felt.
Your hands cradled his jaw lovingly as the fog in his spectacles dissipated slowly.
His fingers curl around the plump of your thighs as he leans his cheek against your palms.
“T-thank you,”
“What are you thanking me for, you deserved that,” Ryland says with a broken voice, but as your thigh fully extended, you felt wetness at the edge of your ass.
Ryland seems to notice that you noticed the wet patch in your sheets and hid his face against your inner thigh.
“You…”
“Yeah I… haah I’m.. sorry.” He said bashedly as you laughed, making him face you again.
“Don’t apologise dummy,” You pulled his face up which led him to crawl to you and tower above you as you gave him a small peck on his lips now wet because of you.
“I see that as a compliment.” You softly said, hands still caressing his jaw.
He tries to look away shyly as his face reddens, but his eyes still look at you adoringly.
–
You guys didn’t care that the next day had a conference meeting as your bodies intertwined harmoniously moving in sync.
Carl probably gave up looking for you a long time ago as through your blurry vision you could make out the time on your analog clock.
11:00PM
5 hours since y’all clocked out, and Ryland is now stuffed deep inside you, his trembling arms hugging your waist against his hips as he grinds slowly into you.
“You feel so good, ohh great heavens,”
His forehead was against yours, glasses still on so he could see clearly every tear you let out adjusting to his size and every time your eyes rolled back.
“Dr Grace oh–”
“Still keeping the formalities huh?” He joked and pecked the tip of your nose before groaning breathlessly as he could feel his tip slowly grind against your cervix.
“You know you like it when I call you that.”
He laughs and kisses you the millionth time.
“I do, I love it very much so stop,” He sighs as he gives a shallow thrust into you, a whine leaving your lips as your legs tremble, wrapped around his torso.
Looking down, you could see where the two of you are connected, wads of cum and his saliva from just now attached between your hips and his as he thrusts in and out.
He looks down too, mesmerised by the sight of all 7 inches of him going in you. You could almost say he is fucked dumb.
“Look at that,” He sighs as his thrusts quickened, wet squelching was heard as noises of skin slapping reverberated the walls. At every thrust he precisely hits your cervix, your arms wrapping tightly around his neck as you try not to cum.
Your eyes rolled back at times, fingers tugging onto the hairs at the back of his nape as if it could stabilise you from his thrusts growing harder and harder.
“R-Ry?” You called out as his eyes were still mesmerised by him going in and out of you.
“She’s beautiful,”
Oh he is pussydrunk.
He didn’t even respond to you as his thrusts grew harder and you moaned loudly at every sharp hit at your cervix.
“F-ffudge,” You gasp as you could feel Ryland’s breath fanning your face as he pants.
“Right now, I can feel her tightening around me, and whenever I thrust deeply hitting her cervix, she tightens even more,”
Is he drawing analysis results from the way your pussy clenches around him?
“Ryland just fuck me already,”
“And if I go in deeper,
He thrusts all the way in slowly, until you could feel his tip split into your cervix, forcing a loud cry from you.
F-fudge– her cervix tightens around my tip,” Your legs tremble as your arms hold him for life.
“R-Ry you have a Doctorate in Molecular Biology why are you drawing analysis from this–
“You feel so good, you don’t understand if I don’t talk to myself like this I will go crazy,”
His eyes finally lock with yours, forehead still against yours, and you moan softly realising how dilated his pupils are. His arms that caged your head were shivering, trying not to rip apart any seam in your pillows.
“Have I told you how much I admire you for your hard work?”
Suddenly he thrusts in hard and you moan loudly, toes curling as your hands reach down to hold his face again.
“You’re so dedicated in everything you do, you don’t even judge others for their opinions,”
His thrusts grew faster and harder as you whined, trying not to curse. Eyes tearing up from the pleasure.
“Stratt doesn’t deserve you, nobody deserves your knowledge, your expertise–
“Don’t say another w-woman’s name while you’re fucking me Dr Grace,”
He smiles bashedly, glasses crooked.
“Yes ma’am.’
His thrusts maintained a steady pace as you whined, hands sometimes clawing at his back as he groaned, eyes looking at you as always to see your reactions, how much you moan from which angle his cock hits into you.
And as soon as he finds a good angle, he curves his hips just slightly before thrusting at the same pace again, hitting that spot dead on every single time, leaving you trembling and sobbing.
His eyes started tearing too, tears dropping onto his glasses, realising you are below him connected in the most intimate way possible. His hands reach up to intertwine his fingers with yours as his forehead was still plastered against yours this whole time.
“I like you so much, you don’t get it,”
“I like you hhmn even more,”
He gasps as his thrusts grow faster, your mind slowly melting from all the pleasure as you could feel your impending release. You whined loudly as your fingers intertwined with his even more, gripping his hands for life.
“F-fudge you’re so deep,”
He moans loudly feeling you tighten, getting a sensing that you’re about to cum soon.
“Is it wrong to say ‘I love you’ this early on?” He gasps out as his eyes look at you, waiting for your answer.
“No, no it isn’t”
He sobs from the pleasure now, as well as the ache of his thighs and core as he thrusts into you quicker.
Both of you guys kept whining, noses touching while exchanging breaths.
“I don’t want this to be a one-time thing,” You sobbed out,
“M-me too, me too love–”
He suddenly groaned loudly as he felt his release coming, eyes shutting tightly, his balls tightening in intervals while he kept thrusting deeply into you, and he could feel you’re about to cum too.
His hands are now tightening around yours as he deeply breathed in and out just to not cum before you.
“I love you Ryland,”
His eyes blinked open to see yours, tears rolling down from the side of your eyes as you softly moan.
“I love you even more,” He sobs as one of his hands lets go of yours to rub your clit with his thumb, thrusting faster as you whine loudly, your free hand now tugging his hair as your eyes roll back.
“C-cumming–
You threw your head back as your back arches, whining as you got impossibly tighter around him, forcing him to lean his head against your neck, whining and whimpering, biting his lip till’ it drew blood to stop himself from cumming before you end your high.
You kept moaning his informal name, sobbing and trembling under him like a leaf, and as soon as he could see that ring of cream around his cock as he pulled out because of your orgasm, <em>he lost it.</em>
He cums hard, groaning loudly as he bit the junction between your neck and shoulder to not shout. His thumb still rubs slow circles around your clit as your hips gyrate around in overstimulation, and you moan silently from the feeling of his cum filling you up deeply.
You felt so full, free hand now weaving its fingers through his hair, softly scratching his scalp so as to calm him down, which worked as he breathed deeply, leaving pecks around his bite on your shoulder.
Slowly his hips came to a stop. His kisses trailed up from your neck to your cheeks and then to your nose, making you giggle from how ticklish it felt.
The night slowly came to an end, your hand caressing his cheek as he slowly pulled out, forehead resting against yours. He flips over to have you on his chest, forgetting to take off his glasses that are still foggy as he curls his arm around your shoulder.
And just like that, sleep overtook the both of you, his hand clasping yours.
ivyinkveil do not copy, translate, or plagiarise any of my works.
I kovw your writing!! I'd love to see a smutty pt2 to good girl
good girl II - Ryland Grace
ryland grace x reader
part one - part two
warnings: smut
i love my men whimpering and needy with a little bit of worshipping on the side
word count: 6,1k
requests are open!
The ship had transitioned into its designated night cycle, plunging the corridors of the Hail Mary into a deep, moody blue. The ambient, heavy thrum of the centrifuge spin drive vibrated up through the floorboards, pulling a steady, comforting artificial gravity down on everything inside the hull.
You were in the laboratory, sitting at one of the workstations, idly reviewing some atmospheric data on your monitor. Or, at least, pretending to. In reality, you were just waiting.
You knew him well enough by now to know that Dr. Ryland Grace could not leave an anomaly unexamined. He also couldn't let a social faux pas go un-agonized over. It was only a matter of time before he tried to 'fix' it.
good girl - Ryland Grace
ryland grace x reader
in which Dr. Grace uses the wrong vocabulary, and the Hail Mary gets a lot hotter
part one - part two
word count: 2,9k
requests are open!
The vast, endless expanse of interstellar space was, frankly, a little monotonous.
When you first boarded the Hail Mary, the sheer, existential terror of the mission had been enough to keep your adrenaline spiking every hour of the day since you woke up. You were on a one-way trip to Tau Ceti, carrying the weight of the entire human race on your shoulders, surrounded by technology that was experimental at best and completely suicidal at worst. For the first few months, every creak of the hull, every fluctuation in the life support systems, and every minor error code on the monitors had felt like a harbinger of imminent death.
But the human brain is remarkably adaptable. After millions of miles, the terrifying isolation of the cosmos had slowly morphed into a strange, domestic routine. You knew the exact, comforting hum of the centrifuge spin drive. You recognized the faint, metallic scent of the air scrubbers working overtime. And, perhaps most dangerously, you had memorized the exact way Dr. Ryland Grace’s brow furrowed when he was lost in a complex mathematical equation.
one night my ass || dbf!Logan Howlett Smut
summary: It was just a one night stand, that's all. Nothing more than an easy way to let off some steam. That's what you tell yourself at least as the man who railed you into next week just walked through your families door.
warnings: SMUT, MINORS DNI, rough sex, mirror sex, creampie, dirty talk, he calls u a slut once
wc: 1.4k
a/n: hehe so this is kinda a part two to my other one as it is a direct follow up but ngl theres really no plot. It's just smut and im not gonna apologize bc sometimes i need to write filth and today was that day. Perhaps I write more angst into this but for now its just smut.
part one
This can't happen again.
You had to forget about Logan and everything that happened between you too. That's what you told yourself when you saw him sitting in the backyard sipping beers with your dad. Expel every memory or thought of that man and pretend it never happened.
You swore it.
All the Auston Matthews. Dealers choice. Pretty please! 🩵🫶🏻
Auston Matthews x fem!reader
Authors Note: Ahhh my first ever request! I hope you like this! It kind of got away from me haha! Please keep requesting more!
Summary: Auston wakes you up the best way possible
CW: 18+ MDNI, explicit smut, low-key hand kink, morning/sleepy sex, thigh fucking, no use of y/n, not beta read.
Word Count: 0.8k
Song: Chantaje - Shakira & Maluma
Thinking about how hot and bothered Auston gets during his days off during the regular season. How incredibly horny he gets because he hasn't been inside you for days while he’s been on the road playing. Waking you up with gentle kisses to the back of your neck.
Arm slung over your waist, playing with the hem of your sleep shirt. Fingertips tracing soft circles on your waist. Before you're even fully awake you feel him, hard and aching in his boxers. His hips involuntarily rutting into your ass to get any sort of friction.
Turning your head you look back at him as best as possible without moving from your position laying on your side.
“Hmm good morning to you mister” you say in a sleepily tone, “missed me?” you question.
“Fuck, you have no idea” he whispers before sloppily attacking your neck with hot kisses. Hands raking up your shirt and gripping your boob. Slowly massaging it, fingers flickering over your nipple, which leaves you gasping for more. He's so desperate like this, something you aren't used to. Usually Auston is so dominating when it comes to sex, always taking the lead, making sure you come first. It's times like these when you know he needs to be taken care of, the idea of letting him use your body for his own pleasure and release sends a zap down to your core.
“Fuck you're so hard, do you want to fuck my thighs baby?” you question.
You feel him nodding in between the column of your neck and shoulder, before he takes his hand off your tit and shimmies his boxers down just enough that his leaking cock springs out.
Spitting in his hand, he slowly strokes himself, just to get him wet enough to slide in between your thighs. It must feel amazing from how he reacts, with the whisper of a shaky fuck and his hand imeditly gripping your hip like his life depends on it. You secretly hope he leaves a bruise that lasts for days with how hard he’s holding onto you. Auston’s hands have always been one of your biggest obsessions about him, they are just so big and capable. Thinking about the way they wrap around your throat or the way his thick fingers fill you up so so good.
You moan looking down at his hand, taking your’s and placing it onto his. He slides himself gently at first, gaining a rhythm that feels good for him. Hearing him moan softly in your ear, sends tingles down your spine and you know he can probably feel your wetness leaking out of you.
“God you’re so wet for me, haven't even touched you and you're already leaking for me” he groans out. You can't even find it in yourself to be embarrassed, he just has that effect on you. Slowly you feel him rub his cock in between the folds of your pussy, brushing up against your clit ever so slightly.
You shiver at the feeling, the tip of his cock blunt and all you want is for him to keep rubbing against you.
“Do that again Aus” you choke out. Hoping he’ll get the message to rub in between your folds again.
He does, thank god. He slowly gets a rhythm to a pace where he's repeatedly rubbing against your clit and you swear you might come just from this. Just from his cock rubbing against you. The coil in your belly starts to tighten with every thrust.
“Fuck I want you to come on my cock, just like this” he grunts out, thrusting his hips faster.
You nod, thrusting your hips back into him just to get the tiniest more friction. It feels like pure ecstasy, the blunt head of his cock kissing your clit with every harsh thrust.
“Oh my god Auston, i’m gonna come, please don't stop, please keep going” you practically beg out. “Me too baby, fuck” he replies and continues at the same delicious pace. Next thing you know is white hot pleasure seeps through you and you practically see stars you think. Your pussy clenching around nothing. Auston continues to thrust against you through your orgasm and you're on the brink of oversensitivity when he comes. The feeling of warm liquid leaking down your thighs makes you moan and look at the panting man behind you.
“Fuck, maybe we should start our mornings like this everyday” auston says with a cheeky smile. And you know what, you wouldn't be opposed to that.
ruin the friendship | s. crosby
warnings: sexual implications, crude jokes, language.
summary: sid invites you to his before he leaves for Italy where he promptly ruins the friendship (in a good way)
request: yes
word count: 3.7k
a/n: we are literally a week behind we are two weeks behind! enjoy guys thank u for your patience i promise there’s more to come!! thank you for all the sweet messages and support too ily guys🫶🫶
golden globes' disaster duo - j. k.
(Joe Keery x F!Reader)
Summary: Co-presenting an award with your boyfriend Joe should be easy, but nerves and sex send your night spiraling into disaster.
Word count: 9.3k
Warnings: +18 MDNI. SMUT (unprotected p in v, riding, kinda breeding kink, sorta lovemaking), more plot than porn tbh, established relationship, basically FLUFF because joe is deeply in love with you, reader is famous af, jacob elordi being a menace to society.
Everyone was obsessed with Joe and you separately, but when you two started dating? No other couple could compare. You had been universally labeled as ‘Hollywood’s IT Couple.’
Even though the absurdly big amount of support had been a surprise, you tried to keep your privacy as much as possible. Supermarket runs were over, TikToks had to be double-checked before posting, and gossip pages were constantly trying to stir up drama. But only Joe and you knew how genuinely incredible your relationship was, and you refused to let fans or media break you apart.
So you didn’t hesitate in accepting the Golden Globes offer to present an award together. You were already nominated for Best Actress in a Television Series, and Joe would obviously be your plus one. People would probably accuse you two of milking your relationship by going to all the red carpets and events together, but after almost a year of dating, you didn’t really care about anyone’s opinion anymore.
So what if you wanted to post a picture of shirtless Joe making you breakfast right before promoting his new album? You knew people were going to run to your Instagram stories, so you might as well get some new fans for The Crux.
'They are so PR!' was the funniest comment you received. If only they knew how devoted you were to each other.
Your manager was ecstatic about the increasing popularity of the Stranger Things season 5 finale and 'End of Beginning.' She wanted you to date someone as famous as you, and even though Joe had a hundred million fewer followers than you, he was unproblematic, well-liked by the media, and growing in popularity.
You had attended the Golden Globes for the last five years, even winning two awards for Best Actress for your main role in your famous HBO tv show, Crashing Waves. Everyone loves to win, but you were feeling a bit shy of possibly winning a third time for the same show. You didn’t want your peers to resent you or think that the show’s producers had a contract with the academy.
Joe thought you were delusional. “Nobody hates you for it, babe. That’s, like, everybody’s favorite show. We all want you to win because you fucking deserve it.”
Maybe he was right, but deep down you hoped somebody else would take the award home.
After a year of constant communication, your managers had become best friends—although Joe and you were sure they were dating—and had chosen the perfect matching outfits for the event.
Joe looked incredibly handsome with a white suit, black pants, and his new blond hair, while you represented the ‘epitome of sexiness’ (Joe’s words) with your sheer black dress.
“How is this matching?” you asked your managers. “We’re wearing opposite colors.”
“Exactly!” Jane exclaimed. “Everyone loves the ‘opposites-attract’ narrative you two have going on.”
Laura, your manager, nodded. “While he looks like an angel, you look like a hot, tempting devil.” She slapped your ass playfully, making Joe glare at her. “No one would be able to look away from you, dear.”
They weren’t wrong; the dark aesthetic of your makeup and dress made you seem as if you would slap anyone who took the award from you.
“You look beautiful,” Joe mumbled on the limousine’s backseat, kissing your hand. “Like you’re gonna spank me and tell me to shut up.”
You smirked. “I don’t have to look like a Disney villain to do that.”
Joe snorted. “You don’t look like a villain at all. More like… a hot vampire.” He scooted closer and kissed your neck. “I need you, baby.”
It was barely seven o’clock, and with the entire event and after party, you’d probably be back at the hotel around three a.m.
You gently pushed him off. “Behave. I can’t have hickeys now.”
“Why not?” he whined and playfully bit your shoulder, making sure to not leave a mark. “That’ll keep the men away.”
“Your presence will be enough for that, honey.”
Joe jokingly gasped, placing a hand on his chest. “What do you mean? Are you calling me possessive?”
Your boyfriend was the least toxic man in the world. Many would even describe him as the sweetest person in any room. But whenever a man would get too close, smile too widely, or eye you a bit too much…
You sighed. “That would be an understatement.”
The red carpet was pretty chaotic, as usual, with camera flashes blinding you, interviewers begging for your attention, and fans screaming for selfies. You used to hate that part, but doing it with Joe reduced all the stress. He kept a supportive hand on your lower back all the time and constantly whispered compliments in your ear. You two had reached enough peace and shamelessness that when fans chanted ‘kiss, kiss, kiss,’ Joe pleased them with a soft, lingering peck on your lips.
“I love you,” he whispered, but everyone read his lips and screamed like crazy.
You just blushed and chuckled as your managers took you inside.
“Oh, my children,” Jane whined with a happy smile while watching the pics she had taken of you on her phone. “If you ever break up, I’ll lock you in a cabin on a remote island until you solve things.”
Steve and you froze, looking at his manager with wide eyes, but an event assistant arrived to escort you to your seats.
Most people were already in their seats, chatting with their colleagues, so there were only two chairs available on your table. Well, of course you were awkwardly sort of late…
Everyone looked up when you arrived.
Joe and you smiled politely at your show’s director, producers, and—
“Oh my god, Jacob Elordi,” you shrieked at your celebrity crush sitting right there, a few meters from you, next to the Frankenstein cast.
They all laughed, bringing you back to reality. You blushed deeply and looked embarrassed at Jacob. “I’m just— Wow. Hey, hi.”
The handsome man’s cheeks were a light shade of pink too. He shook your hand. “Nice to finally meet such a superstar.”
HE KNEW YOU?!
Joe’s squeeze of your hip unfroze you. He knew of your fangirl crush on Jacob Elordi, but having him in person, in front of you, looking a bit flushed too… It wasn’t cute or funny anymore.
You cleared your throat and sat down nervously, looking everywhere but at Jacob. For years, you had seen him from afar in every event, too shy to ask him for a picture, and now he was next to you.
“What the hell!” you mouthed to your boyfriend, discreetly pointing at Jacob. “He’s real?”
Before Joe could reply, Jacob spoke, sending a shudder down your spine. “I’m a big fan of Crashing Waves.”
Oh, you were in a dream. Joe nudged your knee, quietly reminding you to reply.
You looked at Jacob and tried to smile. “Yeah? Y-you’ve seen it?”
Jacob scoffed. “Of course. It’s my favorite. And you? Wow. Amazing performance every damn minute.”
You grasped Joe’s hand beneath the table. It wasn’t the cold air conditioner that was making you tremble.
“Hey, Y/N,” your director called across the table. “You look like a tomato.”
All eyes turned to you before they snickered softly. You covered your face, absolutely embarrassed.
Joe forced a chuckle and soothed your back. “She gets like that with compliments.”
“And how are you gonna receive that award, then?” teased Guillermo del Toro.
Guillermo del Fucking Toro was talking to you. You quickly looked up and hurriedly said, “Mr. del Toro, oh God, pleasure to meet you. Big, big fan of Pinocchio.”
He chuckled and shook your hand. “Most people say ‘Shape of Water,’ but it’s nice hearing something different.”
“We loved Frankenstein,” Joe added, also staring at the man with awe. “I—”
Jacob cut him off. “We were talking about you, actually.”
Your jaw dropped. “M-me?”
He nodded and smiled charmingly. “I was telling Guillermo that you should audition for his next movie.”
You almost stood up from the surprise. With a stoic face, you said, “It’d be the honor of my life, Mr. del Toro.”
The table guests laughed, but Joe knew you were serious. The director waved his hand. “You can just call me Guillermo, dear. Give me your number.”
As you exchanged numbers with the widely awarded man, Joe noticed Jacob’s eyes shamelessly raking all over you, lingering on your cleavage.
Was he fucking serious right now?
Joe put an arm around your shoulders and kissed your temple, trying to discreetly remind Elordi that you were his girlfriend. “Are you still nervous about the award? Because I think I just saw Ayo Edebiri gushing about you with her friends.”
You looked around for your fellow nominee, almost breaking your neck.
But it seemed Joe was invisible to Jacob as he grabbed your hand over the table and talked before you could. “Please, just between us, tell me the end of Crashing Waves.”
Your eyes widened. Jacob Elordi was touching you. Your inner fifteen-year-old, who hated The Kissing Booth saga but watched it a million times because of your favorite actor, would be crashing out right now.
Your tv show’s main producer, Gary, shook his head. “Don’t do it, Y/N. He already tried with me.”
You giggled and… didn’t move your hand away, Joe noticed.
“My contract forbids me to. Sorry,” you said. “Not even my boyfriend knows it.”
Gary snorted. “I don’t believe that one bit.”
You blushed and looked conspiratorially at Joe. “I probably would’ve told him, but he doesn’t wanna be spoiled.”
Joe nodded and took advantage of the table’s attention. “She’s always on the verge of telling me the ending in bed, in the shower, in the car, everywhere!”
Hopefully, the discreet sexual innuendo sent a clear message.
Jacob looked at him for the first time and forced a smile. “Djo, right? ‘Endings of Beginnings’ is a great song.”
Oh, Joe wanted to jump over you and choke the tall man. Every fucking person in the world knew his song. It had been number one on spotify for over two consecutive weeks. But a discreet squeeze on his thigh brought him back to the present.
You had noticed Jacob’s jab and didn’t like it one bit. The excitement about meeting your celebrity crush was gone. Your jaw tightened and your smile turned pursed.
Next to Jacob, Mia Goth chuckled. “I told you it’s ‘End of Beginning’! I played it all the time at my trailer.” She waved excitedly at you two. “While y’all were chatting, I was looking for this.”
She passed you her phone with a wide smile. Joe and you gasped at the screenshot of her Spotify Wrapped having both of you as her top two artists.
“I definitely did not beg the Golden Globes producers to put you two at our table,” she teased with a wink. “Can we take a picture at the commercial break?”
Joe and you nodded eagerly. “Of course!”
Even after years of making music and acting, meeting fans always filled your hearts, especially if they were your Hollywood colleagues.
“She’s working on her new album,” Joe pointed at you, making Mia gasp.
You chuckled and shook your head. “Not really. I’ve written, like, fifty songs but nothing concrete.”
Mia couldn’t care less about Jacob as she scooted her chair closer and grasped your hand over the table. “Is it a love album? I mean, your depressive ones are my faves, but I’m sure you’ll do great romantic songs.”
“They are,” Joe quickly said, loud enough for a certain giant man to listen.
You chuckled and squeezed Mia’s hand. “How can I not write love songs when I have such a muse?”
It was Joe’s turn to blush as everyone—except Jacob—‘aww’ed. But he wasn’t ashamed in the slightest; he was filled with joy. For a long time, he had wished for someone to love him as hard as he did, with the silly love songs and irrational, sporadic love acts.
And he finally found you, a poet wanting to be the muse of another poet. Your love languages matched and there wasn’t a paper in your apartment without a love poem written on it.
He kissed your cheek and whispered, “I love you.”
“A picture!”
A flash blinded you two. An event photographer had approached the table and was now asking the Frankenstein cast to get together for a general picture.
Joe and you scooted your chairs back to avoid appearing on the photo, finally getting a peaceful second for yourselves.
But an assistant suddenly appeared behind you with a clipboard and a pen. “Mrs. and Mr. Y/L/N, you’re the sixth presenters. I’ll come look for you in… twenty minutes. Be ready.” Then rushed to the next table.
You paled, randomly forgetting which award you were presenting for. But Joe smirked and said, “I loved that he called me ‘Mr. Y/L/N.’ I can get used to it, to be honest.”
So focused on your work, you hadn’t even noticed the assistant’s slip. You beamed and pinched his cheek. “But I want to be Mrs. Keery so bad, honey. I love your last name.”
“Okay, then you be Mrs. Keery and I’ll be Mr. Y/L/N,” he teased, causing you to chuckle.
“That defeats the whole purpose!”
Joe gasped, startling you, as his eyes found his table’s name card. He picked it up and showed it to you. “I’m ‘Joe Keery-Y/L/N,’ and you’ll address me like that from now on.”
Your jaw dropped too. What were the Golden Globes’ assistants playing at? Yours didn’t include his last name, so it had definitely been on purpose.
“This is coming home with me.” Joe kept looking at it with awe. “Take a pic of me holding it, please.”
Your cheeks hurt from how much you were smiling at his cute reaction. In another universe, your ex-boyfriend would’ve been pissed by it. You took the photos with your phone, already wanting them as your new wallpaper.
But behind Joe, in the background of the pic… You gasped and almost dropped the phone. Joe turned around confused. “What?”
“Ariana Grande looks wonderful!” you screamed in a whisper.
The singer/actress was on a faraway table, calmly chatting with Selena Gomez. Joe raised his eyebrows. “She’s brunette. Wasn’t she blonde, like, yesterday?”
You sighed and patted his back. “Just because we rewatched Wicked For Good yesterday doesn’t mean it was filmed yesterday, baby.” He rolled his eyes, but you weren’t done. “You’re the newest blondie in town. No one will take your crown.”
He looked deadpan at you but couldn’t help smiling at your joke. “Be thankful you’re cute and I love you.”
You sent him a flying kiss and looked back at your phone. “She’s nominated for a Wicked song.”
Joe leaned closer to see the list too. “Uhh, the one I like? She’ll sing it?”
Oh, you were so in love with your chronically offline boyfriend. “No, babe. Popular is from the first movie.” You scrolled down and sighed. “Forget it. Golden will definitely win.”
He frowned and naively asked, “The Harry Styles song you like?”
You stared at him quietly for half a minute, then nodded. “Yeah, his 2019 hit is so nominated.”
Joe rolled his eyes at your teasing and leaned back on his chair. “I’ll never ask you anything again ever.”
“You’re not gonna speak to me anymore?” you smirked. “Give me this, then.”
When you reached for his name card, Joe quickly shielded it from you, keeping it close to his chest. “No, no. Don’t steal the highlight of my year.”
“It’s January 12th.”
“Enough days to know that I want to marry you this year,” he joked.
But your heart stopped. A man can’t just… joke about something like that! You cleared your throat and tried to act nonchalant. “I’m busy this year. Too many projects. Try in 2027.”
Joe’s arms encircled your hips to pull you closer. He kissed your cheek and whispered in your ear, “I’ll kidnap you, then. Fuck the movie industry.”
“It’ll fall apart without me,” you shrugged, pretending to be inspecting your nails.
“Oh, so true. They’ll lose their best actress,” he mumbled between kisses. And this time, you knew he wasn’t joking, which just flustered you more.
“Hey, loverbirds!” Gary, your show’s producer, threw a balled-up napkin your way. “Shut up. Shit’s starting.”
Blushing, you two pulled apart and pretended to pay attention to the host’s speech. Yet as the woman talked and joked, Joe’s hand suddenly found its way under your dress’s crease and started caressing up your thigh. You discreetly side-glanced at him.
“Don’t…” you muttered as his thumb reached the edge of your underwear.
But he didn’t move his hand away and you didn’t want him to stop, so you clapped and smiled while presenters announced winners and they gave their speeches.
By the third award, you discreetly leaned closer to Joe and muttered with a hand covering your mouth “What the hell are you—?”
His fingers grazed your clothed clit, making you flinch. You covered it with a cough while he just smiled calmly at the stage, paying all the attention in the world.
Casually, you placed an arm on his chair and ghosted your nails across his back. It seemed like a normal, loving action, but Joe knew better. His smile wavered as he tried to push your hand away without being too obvious.
“Dont play…,” he mouthed.
You smiled innocently and looked back at the stage. He wanted to play dirty? Well so could you.
But the challenging vibe left you when he pressed your clit hard. An inevitable gasp escaped your lips, catching your table’s attention.
You forced a smile and lied, “Sorry. I just love that movie.”
Hamnet’s trailer was playing on the screens… It hadn’t even hit theaters in America. But they believed you and returned their direction to the show.
Joe quickly whispered in your ear. “You’re so wet already.”
You pushed him off instinctively, then faked a smile and squeezed his shoulder, just in case a camera was on you.
Joe smirked and tried to move your panties to the side. Alright, enough. You scooted closer to the table, grabbed his wrist, and mumbled, “I’ll murder you if—”
“Excuse me.”
You both gasped at the sudden squeaky voice, jumping away from each other as if electrified.
Standing awkwardly behind you, the assistant raised her hands and whispered, “Sorry! Didn’t mean to scare you, guys. I need to take you backstage.”
Joe discreetly wiped his fingers on the chair and nodded. You forced a smile and stood up, hoping there wasn’t a wet spot in your dress.
“What is wrong with you?!” you whispered to Joe as the woman guided the way.
He put an arm around your waist and shrugged. “I… honestly don’t know. You look so hot and fucking Elordi was hitting on you—”
“He wasn’t.”
But not even you could deny it. You smirked as your cheeks turned pink. “He so was, right?”
Joe rolled his eyes but smiled at your cuteness. “Who wouldn’t? You’re the most beautiful woman in the room.”
The second the backstage doors closed behind you, your hands found the nape of his neck as you pulled him down to a kiss. He grabbed your hips to press you closer and opened his mouth to deepen it.
“Hey, hey. Don’t mess up the makeup,” your manager appeared to ruin the moment.
Behind her, various assistants and crew were rushing around, making sure the show was running perfectly. Laura pulled out a small mirror and your lipstick. “Re-apply. Joe, don’t forget your glasses. Follow the woman; you have to be on stage in three minutes.”
Joe stared with hunger as you applied the expensive lipstick. Pretending not to notice him, you sent a kiss to the mirror and pouted. He distracted himself by focusing on the assistant leading them.
“Remember: you can drift from the teleprompter words, but not completely, okay?” she said.
You nodded and gave her your lipstick and mirror. “Can you please give this to that woman, the one that looks constipated?”
A few feet behind you, Laura mouthed, “I can hear you!”
The assistant left you two on the entrance spot behind the curtain and next to the stage. From there, you could see the Heated Rivalry actors chatting excitedly with Michael B. Jordan.
“There are only, like, six songs nominated. We could’ve listened to them,” Joe sighed.
You shrugged. “I did.”
“What?!” he gasped. “When?”
“This morning while you were showering.”
Joe feigned sadness as he shook his head. “You should’ve waited for me. Now I can’t judge the Oscar dudes that never watch all the nominated movies.”
You rolled your eyes. “Joe, we won’t choose the winning song. It’s completely different.”
Your boyfriend put an arm around your waist to pull you close and whispered, “I was joking. Laugh or I’m breaking up with you.”
You pressed your lips in a line, refusing to give in… but he started tickling you. “Stop! Joe—”
“Shh!” The assistant was back, looking a bit angrier, and gave Joe an envelope. “We’re coming back from commercials in thirty seconds. The camera is already on you. Good luck!”
You both stayed quiet until she had walked out of listening range, then looked at each other nervously.
“I’m shaking,” Joe confessed, showing you his trembling hands.
You whined, “Joe, you’re supposed to calm me!”
He put on his glasses and sighed. “We got this…”
“I love your sluttly little glasses,” you whispered in a shaky voice.
“Thanks,” he mumbled with his eyes glued to the camera. “We should’ve taken a shot before this.”
“We’re fine…” You grabbed his free hand. “Let’s enter like this instead of the elbow-holding thingy. We look like the Hunger Games tributes when they—”
“Coming to the stage,” a thundering voice came from the speakers. “you know him from Stranger Things and she’s the two-time Golden Globe winner… it’s Joe Keery and Y/N Y/L/N.”
That was your cue, of course. Joe and you walked hand in hand to the stage and towards the microphone. Everyone applauded as the chorus from End of Beginning played on the speakers. You could already imagine millions of fans shrieking excitedly at their screens.
As you mentally reminded yourself to not trip over your feet, your eyes found the teleprompter. Joe and you had already practiced two days ago in that same spot, something along “Music is an art that—”
…That wasn’t on the teleprompter. What? Joe and you stopped right behind the microphone, his eyes on you since your line was the first. Hadn’t he realized the changes?!
Oh, shit. The words were moving fast. You smiled and started, “Uhm… Showtunes, k-pop, blues, pop, rock, americana, this year’s nominees for Best Original Song are truly all over the place.”
Even though you sounded out of breath and rushed, Joe talked smoothly, “Seriously. If you show up at a party and they play all six of our nominees in a row, you'd be psyched because they are all incredible…”
You discreetly side-eyed him. Joe hadn’t even listened to them. Well, maybe he vaguely remembered the Wicked ones… although you had heard a light snore coming from him during The Girl in the Bubble.
“But you'd also have a few questions,” Joe’s line was the cue to yours.
You quickly looked back at the teleprompter just as your line went away. “Eh… Yeah, a million,” you improvised. “Like, damn, who wrote that masterpiece?”
Joe blinked, his plastered smile wavering. Your improv wasn’t really a match with the original “What are you on?” line.
He forced a chuckle and quickly saved it. “Yeah, or what are you on?”
“How much—” you started, then realized it was his line.
“...are you on?” Joe continued, trying to make it look like it had been on purpose. Oh, the cute couple are completing each other's lines!
“And can I please have some?” you finally read correctly.
Joe smiled proudly at you and said the last line, “All great questions. Now here is one more: Who is taking home the Golden Globe tonight?”
The camera’s red light disappeared as the show started displaying the nominees section. Your smiles disappeared instantly.
You grasped your boyfriend’s arm and whispered, “They changed that or am I schizophrenic?!”
“Both.” Joe tried to sound reassuring. “I mean, yeah I think they did. And it was going so fast. It wasn’t your fault, baby.”
“I never said it was…”
A three-second countdown appeared in the teleprompter. Joe squeezed your hand warningly and both of your charming, fake smiles came back.
“And the Golden Globe goes to…” you exclaimed.
Joe tried to open the envelope, but his fingers had turned sweaty from the nervousness, and it fell to the floor. You gasped dramatically at the worst case scenario happening.
Just as you leaned down to help, Joe stood up, crashing the back of his head into your collarbone.
“Ouch!”
“Sorry!”
You took a step back and collided with the microphone. “Ah!” you screamed as you quickly reached for it.
Joe winced, but managed to help you keep the mic stand straight. “Shit. I mean, oh—” He covered his mouth when one of the only curse word he was told not to say slipped out.
You leaned into the mic and yelled, “And the Oscar goes to…!”
“Golden Globe,” Joe corrected before squinting his eyes to read the envelope, “Uhm… Golden, The Hunters—”
“Kpop Demon Hunters,” you tried to correct, but the loud music and applause overshadowed your voices.
Joe gently grabbed your elbow and dragged you to the side of the stage. An assistant hesitantly looked at Joe before deciding to give you the award.
“They’re never calling us for this again,” Joe whined, rubbing the nape of his neck stressfully.
Before you could reply, the winner climbed up the stairs. You smiled widely and gave her the Golden Globe.
“Congrats!” you both exclaimed.
The woman briefly thanked you before walking to the microphone. On cue, you two rushed to the backstage.
“That was a mess. I’m not entering twitter for a week,” you whined.
Joe soothed your back. “Okay, people laughed… maybe with us and not at us?”
“Hey! Stop!”
You jumped at the desperate whisper behind you. The same assistant that had led you to the stage was running towards you.
“You have to present a second award! The best score!”
“Ohh!” Joe and you gasped as realization dawned in your faces.
You almost slapped your forehead at the collective loss of memory happening between both of you. Maybe spending too much time together was making your brain cells mix into just a big, stupid one.
“Here you go.” The woman gave Joe the result envelope.
He grimaced and shoved it into your hands. “Not doing that again.”
You stared at it as if it were a boiled potato. “But why me?!”
“Hurry up!” the woman yelled in a whisper. “Get on stage now!”
The previous winner was ending her speech in tears while you two tried to discreetly stand behind her. Applause aroused as the singer stepped away with her award, your sign to present the second nomination.
“Congratulations to Golden, Kpop Demon Hunters,” you said with a smile.
“Alright, everybody, now the award for Best Original Score Motion Picture,” Joe followed. “And the nominees are…”
You both released a breath of relief as the show switched to list the different movies and musicians.
“That wasn’t so bad,” Joe whispered.
Biting your lip, you carefully tried to open the envelope. You suddenly froze and said, “Oh my God… What if I say it wrong?”
Joe frowned, taking a quick look at the screen to make sure they weren’t on air. “What? How?”
“I don’t know! Look at the La La Land/Moonlight scandal and—”
The red dot reappeared on the camera. You two smiled again and Joe said, “And the Golden Globe goes to…”
You finally opened the envelope and forgot all professionalism as you gasped excitedly, “Ludwig Goransson from Sinners! Yeah!”
Joe applauded along with the crowd. He did remember that movie… “We went to that premiere, right?”
“Yeah, the one where my sister threw up after three margaritas.”
You received the award from an assistant and waited eagerly to give it to the artist.
The winner shook Joe’s hand before accepting the award and giving you a kiss on the cheek.
“Congrats! I love the Oppenheimer score,” you hurriedly told him.
“Oh, thanks!” He chuckled and walked to the mic.
Joe found your hand and intertwined your fingers. He squeezed it before whispering in your ear. “I think we did pretty good.”
But your manager didn’t think the same.
As the show finally went to a commercial break, Laura met you backstage with an exasperated face.
“They cut the Best Score one from the main broadcast,” she said.
You gasped. “What?! But we ate on that one!”
“Well, they only played the horrible one,” Laura grunted. “How could you forget to read the fucking teleprompter, Y/N? It’s there for a reason!”
While your manager and you bickered about the recent mess, all sound from the room vanished for Joe as he stared at you lovingly. He couldn’t get over how perfect that dress fitted you. It hugged you in all the right ways… especially your ass.
His pants were getting tighter. He mentally thanked his manager for choosing black pants that could make his hard-on barely noticeable.
Joe’s arms engulfed your waist as he pressed behind you. To anyone, it looked as if he was giving you a casual romantic hug, but you understood the message. Or, well, felt it.
You stopped fighting with Laura at the familiar feeling of your boyfriend’s big hard cock. Your cheeks turned red and you quickly looked around to see if anyone had noticed.
Laura sighed deeply as she typed on her phone. “Whatever. People think you’re funny and cute. That’s all I need. See you later.”
“Bye!” Joe exclaimed in a teasing tone only for you.
You patted his arms and muttered, “Didn’t realize the Sinners score could be so arousing for you?”
He pressed closer and whispered. “No one will notice if we disappear.”
“Uhm, literally everyone will,” you fought back as you tried to push him off. “Babe, it’s too risky. There’s always eyes on us.”
On you, Joe wanted to say. No one cares that much about him, maybe the Stranger Things fans, but he doubted most of the awarded, famous artists in that room respected his show.
You on the other hand? Joe was aware of how heads turned whenever you passed, how most artists were nervous of talking to you and wouldn’t even try most of the time.
If they only knew how approachable and down-to-earth you were. If they could see you fangirling over romance books at one in the morning in nothing but an oversize shirt of his and a skincare mask.
Although… in all honesty, Joe was glad he was the only one with the privilege to know you like the back of his hand. To know the real you, not Y/N Y/L/N the most famous young actress and singer of this century.
Joe held you tighter and kissed your cheek. “Baby… please. Look at what you’re doing to me.”
You almost moaned when he rubbed his hardness against your ass.
“But we’ll only have, like, five minutes to do anything.”
Joe’s whisper in your ear sent shivers down your spine. “You know I can make you come in less time, honey.”
Fuck… Lust was clouding your mind. Maybe no one would notice the empty spots on your table.
“Fine. Go to the second floor men’s bathroom and wait for me until the next commercial break.”
He pulled away before tenderly kissing your lips. “You’re the best.”
“I know,” you mumbled and watched him rush to the closest elevator. “Damn…” you said to yourself, entertained by his eagerness.
Joe was so pathetic for you.
— — —
It had been ten minutes with no news of you. Joe was walking around the small space anxiously with his jeans and boxers bunched down to his knees, his hand teasing his cock with short strokes.
“Where the fuck are you?” he muttered to the quiet air.
Meanwhile, in the grand salon, the winner finished his speech and the show took a commercial break. A five-minute countdown started on the screens.
You cursed internally as you ran out of the room before anyone could try speaking to you.
On all the past breaks, people had bombarded you, asking about your future projects, about your relationship, about Crashing Waves… These events were for networking, but you were sort of done with the small talk and forced chuckles.
You lowkey needed dick.
Fine, you were craving Joe, but you had tried being more discreet and patient.
Waiters and assistants were running all around the venue, taking drinks, aiding people, and making sure the show was going perfectly. They were too distracted to notice you slipping behind the bar to the elevator… except for the two young bartenders who frowned at your obvious attempt at discretion.
They wouldn’t say anything, so you paid them no mind and pressed the button marking ‘2.’ The doors closed and displayed your reflection. You sighed nervously and brushed your hair with your fingers. Why were you even doing that? It was going to get messy after your ‘activities’ with Joe.
The hallways on the second floor were quietly empty, as you had expected. Why would people go anywhere but the bar during the breaks? You took off your heels and ran to the men’s bathroom.
Your heart was thumping from the adrenaline, your pussy getting wet from the danger of it all. The last stall’s door was just closing. You smirked and put the heels on; you cleared your throat and made sure your steps sounded as you approached it.
“So naughty, so desperate, so pathetic,” you filled the silence. “You just can’t keep it in your pants, huh? Maybe a blowjob would make you behave.”
You pushed the door hard, but your smile vanished in an instant, replaced by a horrified gasp.
Kevin Hart had his hands frozen on his unbuckled belt. He looked scared until he recognized you. He raised his hands and smirked. “I appreciate the offer, but I’m happily married, dear.”
You took a step back and looked away, even if he was dressed. Your face was burning as you stumbled over your words. “Oh my— I’m so, so sorry. My boyfriend… Shit, I… This is—”
“Hey, it’s fine. I supposed you were looking for somebody else,” Kevin chuckled. “I’m glad you met me instead, to be honest. I’m a big fan of your work!”
The clock was ticking as you wondered where your boyfriend could’ve gone. You had been very clear: the second-floor men’s bathroom. How could he get confused at that? Had the horniness messed with his head?
You finally turned your eyes back to Kevin Hart and smiled nervously. “Thanks. I loved…” You couldn’t really remember any of his work. “...when you slapped Will Smith.”
He snickered and sat down on the toilet. “I know probably everyone tells you this, but, man… Crashing Waves is the best tv show in history. I have, like, ten thousand Tiktok edits on my gallery. Oh, and my family loves it. We sit together to watch every season and— Wait…” He pulled out his phone. “Can you make a short video for my daughter? She loves your music.”
Thoughts of Joe disappeared the moment he mentioned his daughter. You gasped excitedly. “Of course! What’s her name?”
After you recorded various videos saying hi to Kevin Hart’s kids (then to his siblings, cousins, and nephews), you promised him tickets to your next tour and refused his insistent offer of giving you his brother’s phone number. You could’ve just walked out, but your people-pleasing self didn’t want to seem rude.
The speakers had announced the ending of the break in thirty seconds, but you couldn’t go back without finding Joe. Kevin Hart gave you a grateful hug and finally let you escape.
The women’s bathroom was empty, so you ran downstairs and threw open the first-floor men’s bathroom. “Joe?” You were never repeating the mistake of opening stalls without asking. “Are you here?”
A hand came up from a stall. “Here!”
The second he saw your heels outside his door, Joe opened it and pulled you into a fierce kiss. “What took you so long?”
You fell back into the closed door and tried to kiss him back while talking. “I went to the bathrooms upstairs but you weren’t there.”
He frowned, pulling back. “You said second floor.”
“Yeah, and this is the first one.”
“No, it’s the second. The elevator didn’t work, so I climbed a set of stairs and…” He stopped as realization dawned on him. “And that floor was the Lobby, so this is the first, and the second is—”
“Upstairs,” you muttered. “I walked in on Kevin Hart almost taking a shit.”
But instead of laughing, Joe shut you up with another kiss. “Don’t talk about other men while I’m trying to fuck you,” he joked.
“Yeah ‘cause I was definetly gonna blow Kevin Hart.” You rolled your eyes.
Joe’s kisses dropped to your neck as his hands wandered to your butt. “I don’t know. You like slaps and kinky shit like that.”
You pushed him to the closed toilet and straddled him. “Alright, the commercial break is over, but we should make this quick anyway.”
Joe’s arms wrapped around your waist to pull you flush against him. You started to grind your hips, making him moan. “Fuck…”
He had his jeans and underwear hanging on his knees, his hard cock leaking against his tummy.
You licked your lips and stood up. After bunching up your dress, you tried to kneel, but Joe stopped you. “No, wait. I don’t want that. I need to be inside you, baby,” he pleaded.
“But I’m not prepared enough.” You pulled down your thong to show your semi-wet pussy.
If he didn’t eat you out before penetrating you, his cock would hurt you terribly. It was difficult getting used to such size.
“It’s okay.” Joe casually pulled out a condom and a small bottle of lube from his pants’ pocket.
Your jaw dropped. “Have you been carrying that all night?”
He shrugged, smirking. “After I saw you trying on that dress, I knew I wouldn’t control myself all night, sweetheart.”
You blinked, frowning, then snorted. “Joe, that could’ve fallen out of your pocket mid-presentation!”
Joe opened the condom and carefully put it on. He uncapped the bottle and poured lube on his fingers. “And? Is not as if people don’t know couples have sex.”
You caressed his blond hair. “Baby, the Golden Globes is a PG-13 show. You would’ve traumatized more than just our family.”
Joe froze and grimaced. “Can we go back to sexy talk? It’s odd thinking of our families while I’m touching my dick.”
You opened your mouth but just chuckled. “I’m sorry! Uhm…” You spat on your clit and rubbed it. “Wait, did you just say ‘sexy talk’? What are you? Fifteen?”
Joe shut you up by inserting three lubed fingers inside you. Normally, he could get you wet in seconds, but for the sake of time, lube will have to do.
You moaned as he moved them quickly, preparing you. “Fuck, Joe… Just like that.”
But he took them off, wiped them on his thigh and pulled you back to straddling his lap. Obediently and on instinct, you tried to get comfortable enough to ride him. Joe leaned back, his hands dropping to caress your thighs as he looked up at you with darkened eyes.
“You look so hot, baby,” he whispered. “Gonna ride me good?”
You grabbed his protected cock and aligned it on your prepared entrance. “Gonna give you what you want so you can shut up.”
His hips flexed slightly as his tip grazed you. “I’ll never shut up about you. You’re too beautiful. My pretty girl.”
You held onto his shoulders while sinking down on him. Joe threw his head back with a choked groan, the grasp on your hips tightening like a vise, like he needed to remind himself you were really on top of him.
“Oh, God!” you whined at the size. You were barely sitting on half of it.
Joe kissed your collarbone and soothed your hips. “It’s okay, baby. Take your time.”
“We don’t have time,” you muttered. Closing your eyes, you sank down completely. “Fuck!”
His breath turned uneven, his voice already wrecked. “Baby, I’m not lasting long. F-feels so good. Y-you feel… P-please move.”
You braced yourself and started riding him fast, ignoring the pain and focusing on your boyfriend’s pleasure. His hands slid up to your lower back, squeezing your ass hard.
“You’re so perfect. Making me insane just by just existing… I’ve needed you since we got into that limousine,” he murmured into your neck, his teeth scraping over the perfumed skin at your neck. “So good for me. Only me.”
You moaned and threw your hair back to give him more access. “Only yours, Joe. I’m yours.”
His nails were marking your skin as he helped you ride him. Joe knew he was on the verge of finishing, but he wanted you to do it first. And he knew exactly how.
Joe spanked you hard before gripping your chin and angling your face back to him. “Damn right you’re mine. This pussy was made for me.” He pressed a messy, possessive kiss to your lips, biting the lower one. “I’m not letting you go. Not even if goddamn Elordi tries to charm you again.”
You smirked and rolled your hips harder. “I knew you would get jealous about that. He was just being friendly.”
He gripped your hair and pulled you closer. “Don’t play. He was flirting with you.”
You had no patience to tease him, so you shoved down your dress straps. “I don’t care about him. He’s nothing compared to you, Joe.” You arched your back and pushed his head down to your breasts. “The only one that I want inside me, the only one that can touch me.”
Joe’s eyes turned darker before he started to press open-mouthed kisses across your chest.
“No marks,” you reminded him.
He groaned and captured one of your nipples in his mouth. His hand gripped your waist as he moved you up and down his length, his hips flexing up to meet yours.
“So pretty. So soft… Fucking obsessed with you,” he murmured against your skin.
His thumb brushed over the other nipple, delightfully watching your reactions. You gasped and moaned as your legs burned from the effort of riding him in such a small space.
You were getting close, but it wasn’t enough. Rubbing yourself wouldn’t be as pleasurable.
“Baby…” you whined. “Take off the condom.”
Joe’s entire body went still. He released your nipple and looked up at you hesitantly. “Honey—” His voice was rough, and he was trying to not show too much eagerness. “Are you sure? You aren’t on the pill.”
You were too horny to think straight. “Whatever. I’ll take a Plan B tomorrow. There’s a pharmacy in front of the hotel.”
Joe knew he had to think rationally, but it was too difficult with you half-naked on top of him, begging him for something he had dreamed of since the moment he met you.
You noticed his hesitation, so you pressed yourself closer and kissed his jaw. “I need to feel you completely, Joe. Need you to fill me up—”
You hadn’t even finished talking when Joe was already standing up with you in his arms. Who was he trying to lie to? He would always give you anything you wanted. Anything.
He pressed you against the door and pulled out. His shaky hands took off the condom, throwing it to the floor, and sank back into you.
“Holy shit,” he whimpered, his fingers digging painfully into your thighs. “Fuck— Feels great.”
Your pussy clenched at feeling him raw for the first time, welcoming him. There was no going back after this. Now, you finally belonged to each other. Your legs wrapped against him as he accelerated his thrusts.
“Fuck, Joe! Yes, yes!” you moaned loudly and shamelessly.
The door rattled behind you with each rough snap of his hips against yours. “I love you. Love you so fucking much. Moan my name again.”
You threw your head back as he buried his face against your neck. “Joe! L-love you too. Don’t s-stop, baby.”
The overwhelming feeling of your bare pussy around him was attacking all of his body. In that moment, Joe knew he never wanted to be inside anyone else ever again.
“I’ve loved you ever since I met you,” he confessed. “Ever since I saw you singing at that Christmas party, I knew I was ruined.”
He looked at you, pressing his forehead against yours as he kept fucking you.
“I’m so fucking ruined. You’re it for me, Y/N. You’re my everything,” he murmured before kissing you firmly. “My all, my world… I’m never letting you go. No point in living if I’m not loved by you.”
You were sort of taken aback by his sudden romantic words; he was usually more of a dirty talker during sex, leaving the cute poetry for his songs. But it seemed that romance was getting you closer to the edge as you clenched around him.
“Yeah? You’re obsessed with me?” you joked with a breathy moan.
“So much,” he said without hesitation. “Can’t believe every day I wake up with the prettiest, smartest, most talented woman by my side.”
You chuckled and kissed him softly. “Rub my clit, honey.”
He obeyed instantly, holding your body with an arm and finding your weakest point with his right hand. “I mean it, babe. I’m devoted to you. You have me wrapped around your finger.”
“And my pussy,” you teased before biting your lip hard.
You were on the verge… just a tiny bit more.
“Let me come inside you,” Joe whimpered in a shaky voice. His pupils were blown in lust, looking feral and drunk. His thumb was rubbing your clit with all his might. “Please… I can feel you close. Need to fill you up, baby. Need to make you mine…”
With just a brief nod from you, Joe gripped your hips hard and let himself come undone deep inside you. Feeling his cum painting your insides made you follow him over the edge. Your body trembled as a broken moan escaped your lips.
He kept you close as both tried to recover your breaths. You could feel each other's rapid heartbeats filling the quiet bathroom. Joe pressed gentle kisses on your neck and jaw.
“Don’t take the pill tomorrow,” he murmured.
You froze.
Joe slowly kissed around your face as he kept going. “I meant everything I said. I’m yours, and I wanna be yours forever. Don’t take it and let’s start a family. Together. Ours.”
When he pulled back and noticed your shocked face, he knew he had fucked up. Joe gulped and pulled out. He quickly pulled out his coat’s handkerchief and pressed it on your leaking pussy to avoid a mess on the floor.
“I, uhm… I meant that if you want to take the pill or not, it’s your choice, and I’ll be okay with whichever,” he whispered, trying to calm you or get a different reaction from you. “But it’s your choice, okay? Didn’t mean to sound like I was pressuring you or—”
“No, no. It didn’t feel like that at all,” you quickly reassured him.
“It’s just… I don’t know. I wouldn’t mind cancelling the tour to have a baby with you,” he confessed but quickly regretted it. “I’m sorry. I must be overwhelming you. I just —”
“And here are the nominees for Best Actress in a Television series,” was heard on the hallway’s speakers.
The show had continued, of course, but you hadn’t paid mind to it until now.
Joe and you paled, going still for a second, before quickly rearranging your clothes.
“Please not me, please not me,” you whispered nervously.
Joe helped you tidy your messy post-sex hair as you ran out of the bathroom. You hadn’t even taken a look at your reflection, but you were sure there was no lipstick on your lips and that your mascara had probably gotten mushy around your eyes.
“Do I look like I just got fucked?” you asked him as you ran down the last set of stairs to the main lobby.
Joe took a long glance at you and pressed his lips in a line. He lied, “No. Just…” He rubbed your under-eye nervously. “Uhm…”
“And the Golden Globe goes to…”
Joe and you grabbed each other’s hands instinctively as you stood outside the doors. He had rooted for you all season… but now he was sort of wishing for Ayo Edebiri to win.
“Y/N Y/L/N!”
“Fuck!” you both yelled.
Joe brushed your hair one last time before pushing you to the door. “Go, go!”
“I’m on it!” you groaned and hesitantly entered the theater.
There were three cameramen frantically looking for you near your table. You held the bottom of your dress up and rushed across the tables with shaky ‘excuse me’s.
“She is here!”
“Over there!”
You waved and smiled awkwardly as a camera found you and the crowd could finally applaud. People were standing up—oh wow—and patting your back as you passed by them.
“Congrats!”
“You were great!”
“So deserved!”
You thanked back and shook as many hands as you could until you reached the stage’s stairs. Why were they made of crystal? Ugh. You carefully climbed them, but at the last one, you stumbled.
Gasps filled the room. An event’s assistant ran to your side before you could fall, but you were already covering your face from the embarrassment. Well, maybe you could blame your messy state on the almost-fall.
Jason Bateman gave you the award. “Congrats! You alright?”
You forced a smile and nodded. “Yeah, thanks!”
People sat down as you finally reached the microphone. Out of habit, you brushed your hair out of your face and behind your shoulders. “Oh God… I’m never going to the bathroom mid-show again!”
Laughter ran across the place while you were internally panicking because the speech you prepared was in your purse. Time to improvise.
“Thank you, Golden Globes. I know this was a hard decision since all my fellow nominees were great. And I mean that, I watched all their shows. And uhm… Yeah. Uhm… My Crashing Waves family, thank you for the support, for trusting me with this wonderful character through every season, since I was only twenty-one and inexperienced and… a nervous mess, just like I am right now!”
On your table, your show’s producer laughed along with the crowd. Right behind him, Joe was discreetly reaching his seat.
And everything made sense again.
You smiled warmly and held the award closer to your chest. “I also wanna thank my partner of almost two years, Joe.” You sighed and looked directly at him. “This was a hard season with all the messed-up things that my character went through, and I know I wouldn’t have survived without you. You who always had pancakes and scrambled eggs ready every morning I had to go to set. You who missed many music events to be with me on set. You who helped me escape my mental monsters every night in your arms.”
Joe was looking up at you with adoration as he mouthed an ‘I love you.’
You giggled, your eyes getting tearful. “I love you more.” There were so many things you wanted to pour out of your heart, but maybe they were for your boyfriend’s ears only.
“Uhm, so yeah,” you turned back to the crowd. “Thanks to everyone I didn’t mention but knows I appreciate them. Bye!”
This time, an assistant was already ready to escort you down the stairs. You held his arm and whispered, “Sorry that I got you doing this too. I bet you have a lot to do already.”
He shook his head and smiled widely. “Having you touching my arm is the highlight of my life!”
“Oh!” you chuckled and patted his arm. “Want a selfie?”
After taking a picture with a few more assistants, you went back to your table. Gary, your show’s producer, hugged you tightly. “Oh, my darling Y/N. I’m so proud of you.”
You thanked everyone at the table and, finally, walked to your boyfriend. He was waiting for you with a smile and a rose. You frowned. “Where did you get this?”
Joe placed an arm around your waist, pulled you close, and kissed your head. “Stole it from a vase on the bar. The waiter said it was fine if it was for you… then she asked me if we were secretly married and I said yes just for fun.”
Your frown deepened, but you laughed and kissed him on the lips. “You’re an idiot.”
“Your idiot,” he corrected, murmuring against your lips. He gave you the rose and stroked your cheek with his thumb. “Congrats on the award, honey. I kinda cried with your speech.”
“I had so much more prepared!” you whined and looked for the crumbled up paper on your purse. “I was gonna thank my family, your mom, my high school art teacher, every girl around the world who dreams to be an actress, and our dog.”
Joe blinked as a smile slowly formed on his face. “Every girl who dreams to be an actress?”
“Yeah! I wanted to tell them to follow their dreams and not let men step on them,” you sighed sadly. “I’ll just put it in my Instagram post caption.”
Joe opened his mouth to speak, but he forgot everything when he noticed a very visible red mark below your jaw, at the left side of your neck. It hadn’t been noticeable while you were on stage due to the various spotlights… but on camera.
You frowned at his sudden silence. “What—?”
He covered the hickey with your hair and shook his head. “Nothing. Just… don’t move your hair from there… and we should probably skip the after-party.”
You paled as you slowly understood. Instinctively, you dove your hand in your purse for your phone. Joe stopped you. “Don’t… it’s been buzzing a lot and I’m not sure if it’s because of the award.”
Joe and you sat down as people scrambled around the place to enjoy the break. “I don’t have the patience,” you admitted and unlocked your phone.
There were over a thousand mentions on Twitter, more than five hundred messages from your friends, and a single one from your manager.
Laura: I’M STERILIZING JOE TOMORROW.
Joe sighed. “Don’t enter Twitter—” You ignored him. “Babe…”
He had deleted the app years before dating you, but screenshots sent from friends informed him how much people talked about you two.
Your jaw dropped at the first tweet that popped up. It had gotten over two hundred thousand likes in less than five minutes.
There were four attachments: one of you two on the red carpet, with Joe staring hungrily at you as you posed; another one of him grabbing your ass behind the stage while you applied your lipstick; then you two walking out of the men’s bathroom, looking incredibly messy and obvious with your dress’ straps hanging off your shoulders; and the last one… you on the stage with a red circle drawn around your neck, signalling the hickey.
On top, the tweet read: STEVE HARRINGTON LIVING MY DREAM AGHHH @ joe_keery CAN YOU FIGHT?
---
a/n: jacob elordi is my husband and joe keery is my baby daddy i love them and need them to fight over me aghh anyway i wanna write a pt.2 where she is deciding between taking the pill or not... we'll see!
SWEET HORNY WIFE ( bruce wayne! )
Summary | Only Bruce Wayne knows both sides of his charming wife, and he loves both.
Pairing | Bruce Wayne x Wife!reader
wc | not smut just hints that something happened
P.S. I'm SO SAD because Max lost the championship, devastated
hot wife mlist
Generally, everyone thought that the millionaire playboy and most desired man in the city was, logically, the horniest man in the world. Everyone assumed that he was undoubtedly the horniest in the marriage: Bruce Wayne, the man who could have anyone he wanted, the one who could make knees tremble with just a smile, the one who radiated an intensity that seemed impossible to extinguish.
But reality couldn't have been more different; if there was one person who kept order in the bed, it was his wife.
Cause yes, he could be intense, he could be passionate, all in the privacy of his bedroom. But you, his damned wife, Mrs. Wayne, was in a different league.
Behind that angelic face you had, there was a kind of succubus, something he would never have expected from your nor imagined at the moment he first met ypu at the gala.
best!friend steve who loves when you get all squirmy around him <3
it’s late—too late—and both you and steve wrecked in that soft, boneless way that only comes after too many hours of nothing and everything at once.
you’re sprawled across him like you’ve been poured there.
his back’s against the arm of the couch, legs spread lazy-wide, grey sweats riding low on his hips. you’re straddling one of his thighs but twisted so your chest presses flush to his, arms looped around his neck, face buried deep in the warm crook where his shoulder meets throat. his heartbeat thumps steady under your cheek. you can smell the last of his cologne mixed with that sleepy boy smell—fabric softener, faint sweat, the tiniest hint of the pizza grease still clinging to his fingers.
you’re so tired your bones feel like syrup.
steve’s hands are under your oversized hoodie, not even doing anything—just resting warm and heavy on the small of your back, thumbs occasionally dragging slow, absent circles over your spine like he’s petting a cat that’s already purring itself to sleep.
you shift.
just a little.
enough that your hips settle more fully against him.
and oh.
there it is.
not even hard—just soft, thick, the natural heavy outline of him pressed right up against the thin cotton of your sleep shorts. the kind of print you can feel every ridge and curve of even through layers, because the sweats are so worn-in they’re basically nothing. it’s not sexual on his end. he’s half-asleep, breathing slow and even against your hair, probably thinking about nothing more than how nice it feels to have you close.
but your body doesn’t care about context.
heat blooms low in your belly, sudden and stupid and embarrassingly strong. your thighs flex on instinct. you try to stay still—really, you do—but your hips roll forward in this tiny, helpless little grind before you can stop it.
a small, pitiful sound slips out of you. barely a whine. more like a breath that got caught and turned needy.
steve hums. low. sleepy. “mm?”
you hide deeper in his neck. “nothing,” you mumble, but your voice cracks and betrays you.
another tiny roll. barely anything. just enough to feel him shift under you, to feel the soft weight of his cock nudge back against your clothed pussy like it’s saying hi.
your breath hitches.
“liar,” he murmurs, lips brushing your hairline. there’s a sleepy smile in his voice. “what’s got you squirmin’, huh?”
you’re burning. face so hot you’re sure he can feel it against his throat. “shut up.”
“nope.” one of his hands slides lower, cups the back of your thigh—not guiding, just holding. “you’re being all whiny and grindy on me. kinda rude when a guy’s trying to nap.”
“i’m not—i’m not grinding,” you lie, even as your hips do it again. slower this time. more deliberate. the friction drags a shaky little whimper out of your throat before you can swallow it.
steve exhales hard through his nose. his grip tightens just a fraction. “yeah you are. feel that?” he rocks up—just once, lazy, barely there—and you feel every inch of him press firmer against you. still soft. still not trying. but god it’s so much.
your fingers curl into the hair at the nape of his neck. “stevie…”
“what, baby?” voice all soft and teasing and fond. “you want me to pretend i don’t notice my best friend’s getting wet just from sitting on my lap?”
you make a mortified noise into his skin. “don’t say it like that.”
“like what? it’s true?” he chuckles—quiet, raspy. his thumb strokes over the back of your thigh again. “you’re soaked through your shorts. i can feel it.”
you clench around nothing and grind down harder this time—shameless now. another tiny, wet-sounding whine escapes.
“yeah,” he breathes, almost to himself. “thereee she is.”
you’re trembling. it’s pathetic. it’s perfect. “this is so gross,” you whisper, even as you nose along the column of his throat, lips brushing skin.
“mhm. super gross.” his hand slides up under your hoodie again, palm flat against your bare back. “best friends don’t get off on each other’s laps, right?”
“right,” you echo, but you’re already rocking in these slow, needy little circles, chasing the dull ache that’s building way too fast.
he lets you. just lets you use him.
his head tips back against the couch. eyes half-lidded. watching you through his lashes like you’re the prettiest, most pathetic thing he’s ever seen.
“keep going,” he murmurs. “make a mess on me. s’what you want, isn’t it?”
you nod against his neck. tiny. desperate.
“yeah,” he sighs, all fond and wrecked. “knew it.”
your hips stutter. breath coming in soft, broken pants against his pulse. it’s not even about getting off—not really. it’s about how safe it feels. how disgusting and sweet it is to be this close, this needy, this shameless with the one person who’s never once made you feel wrong for it.
steve’s hand comes up. cups the back of your head. keeps you tucked against him.
“i’ve got you,” he whispers. “let it feel good, okay? i’m not going anywhere.”
you make another small, wrecked sound.
and then you just… keep moving.
best friends.
the best kind.
PUNCHING BAG
jud duplenticy x wife!reader
AO3 LINK HERE
a/n: missed you guys. the knives out franchise has been my favorite since its release in 2019, so i figured it was fitting that it gave me inspiration for the first time in weeks 6 years later in 2025. not my best work, but it's work. i hope y'all enjoy :)
warnings: CONTAINS SPOILERS FOR WAKE UP DEAD MAN. SMUT 18+, religious imagery, angst with fluff and smut, slight emotional grapples with catholicism, i am not catholic so inaccuracies are very much possible, this is not proofread because i just don't want to
— 5+1
───── .𖥔 ݁ ˖ a.buttle
summary: five times alfie pretended he didn't care, and one time he finally did content: nothing much, couple not couple "breaking up" (they just don't talk for a bit) and getting back together, reader being petty, ab being petty, unlabelled relationship, reader is also in the yt scene a/n: lmk what you think. just wrote first part and its 1.5 k, meaning we are probably going to be spending 6-8k words together😀. (it was 6.2k words in the end). (first ab fic, and first fic with my new theme) finished this at 1:08am on Christmas Day, merry Christmas to all those who celebrate
Clark in rut
kinktober, day 23
synopsis: whenever you're ovulating, Clark's body goes into baby-making mode
cw: established relationship, porn and no plot, reader is overstimulated, Clark has super stamina, unprotected p in v, breeding kink, sloppy rounds, multiple creampies <3
wc: 841
It happens every time you’re ovulating. His body picks up on it, on the scent of you, and suddenly all he can ever think about is pumping you full of his cum until you give him a baby.
And so, he fucks you often, always hard and deep. He never lasts long during these ruts of his, and somehow, his body finds ways to produce more cum than he normally does. So it ends up just being sloppy seconds, and thirds, and fourths—and so on—all night.