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promisingyounglady · 7 months

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accident. | JP x Reader

PAIRING: Javier Peña x Wife!Reader

SYNOPSIS: we all make accidents. javier forgetting to pick you up at the train station was an accident. you forgetting to bring an umbrella was an accident. throwing a knife at your husband? you’re going to have prove that one was an accident to him.

WC: 3.6k

WARNINGS: SMUT, angst, mentions of weapons and knives, reader throws a knife at javier *just read you’ll find out*, implied age gap, established relationship, javier is a bit older than reader, domestic au, slight dom!javi, mentions of food and cooking, profanity, bratty!reader, reader is mean but javier can be meaner, floor sex, creampie, unprotected sex, spanking, handcuffs, cum eating, brief oral (f recieving), slight non-con, rough sex, praise, degradation, post-sex sweetness, not proofread.

AUTHORS NOTE: obsessed and mentally ill. so here’s slightly dom!javi with a ton of angst

A headache ensues in Javier’s mind.

He tries to combat it with the clouds of smoke rising through the air, the comfortable scent of tobacco and cigarettes filling his nose as he takes a drag from the stick perched in between his blistered fingers, this inhale, longer than the last.

Today had been shit. It really had. All day he had been cooped up in the office with stacks of paperwork almost taller than himself, tossed onto him and Murphy's desk by the higher ups, a high demand for deadlines with their patience being low.

Javier had been sitting in his office for almost seven hours straight, looking at papers with tiny writing and filing reports with pen until sensitive pink blisters formed around a hand that should’ve been driving and carrying a gun today, out in the field on a mission another team had instead been tasked with.

He’s getting old for this stuff, and he knows its true when he feels a strain in his back from shifting in his seat.

Maybe that’s why they shoved the paperwork in the old man’s hands.

Javier leans forward, grabbing his almost empty pack of cigarettes from his desk, deciding a fourth one was necessary for tonight.

“Javier,” a voice calls for him, looking up when he sees the new secretary holding the phone facing her chest. “You’ve got a call”

“From who” he says gruffly, brows furrowed. He lights the cigarette with his lighter, tossing it onto his desk and taking another puff.

“It’s your wife,” The secretary states. “she’s asking what you want for dinner.”

Javier stops in the middle of flicking the ashes, letting the cigarette sit warm in his fingers when he turns his head so he could see her correctly.

Your sweet voice calls out through the receiver, a chill running down Javier's spine when he makes out that it really is you.

“Yeah, Sherry, it’s fine if he’s busy, just let him know I called. Tell him dinner’ll be late tonight, at around 10.” you piped up sweetly, saying goodbye to your husband's secretary before hanging up the call.

She leaves after telling him what he already heard, but Javier is quick to immediately put out the burning cigarette and quickly grab his coat, making his way out the office.

“Peña, Where are you going? We only got a few more stacks left” Murphy calls out, hair in a mess from the many stressful tugs and his own cigarette nestled in between his fingers.

“my wife.” Javier replies, suddenly not liking the bitter taste in his mouth.

“It’s raining outside, you’re gonna get drenched” the blonde tells him, shaking his head as he took a drag from his own cancer stick.

Javier stops in his tracks, looking outside the window to see his partner was right. It was pouring out there, hardly able to even make out the cars in the parking lot.

Him getting wet was the least of his worries. It was you, he was thinking of.

“Fucking hell.”

You set the receiver down on the living room table. The ticking of the clock resonating in the silent house before a sigh finally escaping your lips.

Droplets of rain water cloud your vision, cheeks pink from the cold as water dripped onto your wooden floorboards.

Fists clench and unclench around the handle of the umbrella given to you by an old lady at the train station.

“A girl like yourself shouldn’t be alone in the rain, mija” she insisted, letting you take her frilly umbrella as her son would pick her up shortly.

Javier was supposed to pick you up too.

But after forty minutes of standing out in the rainy weather under a flimsy roof as you waited for his truck to pick you up, you disappointedly caught a taxi and drove home by yourself

You were returning from your visit to your sick grandmother. You were her only granddaughter who she called the week prior, telling you how she missed you and wanted you to visit.

Javier insisted you went, not wanting to hold you back and assured he would come to pick you up at the station after the weekend spent with her.

What a fucking liar, you thought to yourself.

You quickly undressed your wet clothes, the outcome of having to have walked in rain to find an available taxi this evening.

You're curious to see the look on Javier’s face when you make him beg on his knees and ask for forgiveness. Maybe you wouldn’t even kiss him tonight, thinking in silence as you prepared for dinner.

You definitely weren’t trying to think about what an excellent opportunity this was to be a brat.

—

Javier parks into his quiet drive way exactly thirty minutes before 10. That’s thirty minutes of trying to get on your good graces and pray that he wouldn’t be sleeping outside tonight.

When he opens the door to the house, his heart beats fast. Prepared to see you ready to lash out at him, he’s instead surprised with the aromas of spices and your homemade cooking wafting to his nose, unconsciously realizing that he skipped lunch today from how caught up he was with work.

Picking up your wet jacket from the floor, Javier slots his keys and sunglasses in the bowl by the entrance, hanging his own jacket as well before he makes his way quietly to the glowing kitchen.

The stovepot is on a low boil, and he sees you in a long t-shirt, one that you made sure wasn’t his. Your hair is damp, probably from a shower as you swiftly work your hands away in prepping the vegetables.

Javier mumbles quietly in a gruff voice. “You, uh, left your coat on the floor.”

Thwack.

An aggressive chop at the carrots replaces your words, each cut piercing louder like a gunshot ringing in his ears.

“Hermosa, I am so sorry.“ Javier begins sighing because he knows he fucked up real bad this time.

Thwack. You moved onto the chicken meat.

“There’s no excuse baby, I wasn’t keeping track after being cooped up in the office today.” he sighs, brows furrowing as big brown eyes stared into your back.

Thwack. Thwack.

The DEA agent flinches at the sound of the raw chicken being butchered by your swift, angry hands. You’re not facing Javier directly and yet he can already see your glaring eyes. He sighs, not wanting to fight you. He tries to lighten the mood, voice soft as he comments.

“Qué te ha hecho ese pobre pollo”

You don’t reply, let alone acknowledge your husband, continuing to brutally dice the chicken on the cutting board before turning around to wash your hands.

Javier watches you swiftly work in your kitchen, feeling sorry as he still watches you prepare dinner for the two of you after such a long train ride.

He moves forward, rolling his sleeves as he tries to help you . “Querida, I’ll help with the pot-”

The clang of the knife hitting the cutting board echoes in the kitchen, finally looking up to face your husband. Javier leans back, resting against the kitchen counter, arms crossed and gun holsters unremoved after coming home.

You try to ignore how tired he genuinely looks, reminding yourself you were just the same when standing all alone for that one hour.

“Y’know what Javier?” You begin, eyes watering and nose twitching in anger. Javier stays silent, staring at you with sincerity.

“Fuck you” you spit, pointing an accusing finger at the man. “fuck you and your fucking DEA work, Javier”

“Mi-”

“I had to wait forty minutes outside in rainy weather, trying to see if every car passing by would be yours.” you said, voice breaking towards the end. You felt uncomfortable waiting by yourself.

Javier shuts his eyes, forehead wrinkling as he tries to calm you down. He draws your name out in a firm but gentle tone.

You ignore him, replacing his words with your attitude. “You always do this!” you exclaim, voice rising.

“Leaving your wife and family second while you think it’s cool to go and chase criminals while risking your goddamn life.” You mutter, glaring at your husband.

“I didn’t want to leave you at the station all alone, honey. I’ve been sitting at my desk since afternoon drowning in paperwork the higher-ups dumped on us” he presses, eyes sincere but patience wearing thin.

You scoff, shaking your head. “So even stupid paperwork makes you forget your wife.”

Javier pinches his nose bridge, his head pounding as he tries to communicate with you.

You go back to cutting your vegetables, mumbling under your breath. “Who the fuck in Bogotá is giving you credit for slaving away all day trying to catch Escobar, hm?”

The words pierce through Javier’s heart.

Your eyes light up in fake sarcasm. “Oh, I bet it’s the fact that you’re too busy being a fucking doormat to all the younger agents at work aren’t you? What, Murphy said he can’t do his share of the work so he gave you his leftovers?” You spit.

“Hey," Javier snapped, gruffly and darkly. He looked at you, eyes narrowed and dark. "Stop it. I've told you."

Anger gets the best of you as you turn to the cutting board. Grabbing the first thing you saw.

A carrot piece shoots in his way. Javier flinches, the food hitting his chest. Your husband stands there, stunned at his wife’s childish behavior.

“Go fuck yourself, Peña” you say menacingly.

“We don’t throw food in this house, mama” he barks, hands on the hips of his belt, gun and badge tucked in his back. He would never use them on you.

A celery stick slaps Javier in the face this time, making his patience hanging on by a thread even thinner.

Maybe he could whip out the handcuffs.

“Dont you fucking call me that!” you said spitefully, throwing anything and everything you could at the man who dodged your attacks.

“Querida!” Javier raises his voice at you, a growl in his words.

You felt the cold, hard material in your hands for a split second before you’re throwing it at him, almost wondering yourself why you were getting so angry at Javier.

You didn’t want to fight this bad, but at the same time you were sick of watching him work himself to death, forgetting about you. This wasn’t the first time he did something like this.

But you already crossed that line. You both stand in silence, holding your breath as you realized what you threw.

Now it was your turn to fuck things up.

Javier’s lip snarls and his mustache is in a scary frown when he shifts his head.

Only a few inches beside his face lands a dull potato knife, wedged in the kitchen cupboards above. It wouldn’t have worked on anything since it was unsharpened and unused, but the tremendous force you had thrown it with allowed it to have been lodged in the wood.

You gasp, hands flying to cover your mouth.

You both watch Javier slowly raise his hand, pulling the knife inches beside his head with ease before tossing it into the sink. The clatter of the metal blade hitting the sink rings in the kitchen. A swarm of guilt fills your chest as you stand still in fear.

“Javi… I-I’m so sorry” you say, heart beating against your chest, cautiously awaiting a reaction from him.

Javier dusts off the carrot peels on his shoulder, watching as his jaw tenses but shoulders relax.

“Come here.” he all but says quietly. You see Javier reaching for his back pocket, taking out his gun and badge and placing it on the counter.

That wasn’t what scared you.

What scared you was then seeing Javier pull out the silver handcuffs lodged in his back pocket. Your eyes widened at the sight of him playing around with them.

“Javi, I’ll go get the-“

“Come. Here.” Javier cuts you off, staring at you with dark eyes.

You swiftly shake your head, refusing to go. “It was an accident!” You exclaimed, dashing out the kitchen as you tried to escape Javier who was hot on your heels.

“Honey.” he says in a not so endearing way, a warning edge to his voice.

Tears littered your cheeks, knowing that you pushed Javier’s limits and that he would really punish you for how bratty you had been tonight.

You gasp, running up the stairs before strong arms encaged your frame, desperately trying to escape before shrieking in surprise as Javier hoisted you over his shoulder, a loud and painful smack being brought down to your ass by his strong hands. You grimaced, helplessly being brought to the kitchen in swift strides.

”It was an accident, I’m sorry, I was just so angry!” You wailed, groaning as your back hit the carpeted floors of your living room. Your vision was hazy, the dizziness getting to you as you saw Javier leave the room into the kitchen, and come back a few moments later. This time, he was unbuttoning his shirt, his forest of chest hair and strong muscles peeking through.

Javier took a deep breath, eying the way your t-shirt had hiked all the way up so your panties were showing. Your hair spread around your head like a halo, and he noticed how you clenched your thighs together in vulnerability.

“Some accidents need to be punished, baby” he muttered darkly.

You sobbed softly, nose red as you turned your head to the side, looking away from Javi’s menacing look. He didn’t mind, he knew once he was done messing with you, you would be clawing at his chest, begging him to fuck you properly while looking into his eyes. Javier leans down at your level, crawling on your body so he was on top and you were trapped on the bottom. He rips your t-shirt off of you, leaving you in your bare state with panties flimsy enough he could rip them with his teeth. Not today though, he had other things in mind.

He coos at your weak state, dropping his head so he could press a kiss to your sensitive neck, giving a small nip that made you yelp. Two large hands come to play with your nipples, pulling each one hard in between his fingers as you moaned hysterically.

“What did I say about being fucking mean?” He says roughly. He inhales your scent, smelling a sweet sense of fear.

“Carino,” a warm voice calls out, you can feel the grin spreading on Javier’s face. You cry in a mix of pain and pleasure when he flips you on your tummy, cheek pressing against the rough carpet material as Javier slots his hard member encased in his jeans, right by the curve of your ass.

“Answer me, mama”

A clinking of metal makes you cry out in protest. No, you wanted to say, feeling Javier cuff you behind your back like you were one of his petty drug thiefs. But a slap to your ass cheek makes you gasp, eyes shutting as Javier pulls your panties off.

”Being mean gets me punished” you responded softly, a pool of desire aching in your folds as you almost tutted your ass up to show him you were ready. “I’m sorry, Javier” you sniffled quietly, hoping he would hear.

Javier laughs, cocking his head to the side as one hand groped the flesh of your bum, and the other undid his belt buckle. The sound makes your mouth water, wondering if he’ll let you suck him off too for forgiveness.

“So you do know how to be nice?” He groans, giving you no time before his hard members penetrates your entrance, head turning back and eyes rolling when you clenched around his dick so well. “Javier!” You screamed, eyes rolling back in pleasure from the strong stretch.

Your arms ached, desperate for release so you could brace yourself against the floor for every hard thrust your husband would give you.

“Listen carefully, querida” he moans into your ear, humping you as you moaned loudly. “You’re gonna be a good girl and let me fill you up, alright?” When there was no answer, he slapped your cheek again, this time echoing throughout the living room and leaving a red splotch on your ass. “Answer me.” He growled, patience growing thin from your pathetic wailing.

You grit your teeth, hating the fact that you were supposed to be mad at Javier for forgetting about you, and yet here you were receiving back shots with a stinging red ass.

”Yes, Javier” you said back, feeling his girth stretch your walls.

”Good. And once I’m done fucking my pretty wife, you’re gonna suck me off like you mean it. That sounds good mi amor?”

You nodded in return, eyes shut and panting like a slut from the feeling of Javier slowing down his thrusts, deepening every stroke.

“Yes, Javier” you repeated.

He smiled, kissing your neck sweetly, contrasting his hip movements. “Thank you, mama” he replied, cherishing your sweet moans and gasps as he went at a deeper, harder pace.

It’s delirious, the whole situation. You feel as though you’re on cloud nine with the way Javier is so possessive of you, caging you like a butterfly in his garden with the apple of desire.

You felt sinful. You felt glorious. You needed his release to fill you up so badly.

“Javi…” you muttered, tits starting to get carpet burn from being fucked against the ground.

“I know mama, you’re doing so good for me. Taking your lesson so well” he groans, sweat beading at his forehead.

You were aching and begging for orgasm, but feeling Javier rut into you so passionately made it all worth it. It dissolved any anger, any resentment from earlier because you knew how good he could take care of you.

“You’re so fucking mean sometimes, you know that?” he tells you, brows furrowed and concentrated on fucking the daylights out of you. You could feel the handprints marking your hips, wondering how many of Javier’s marks would be on you tomorrow morning.

“I know” you sigh, feeling a slap come down on your ass as you groan louder.

“You’re so fucking stubborn sometimes, you know that too?” you pant, squirming under your cuffs. Javier shudders, your walls sucking him a little too well.

“I know.” He says back gruffly.

Javier feels the knot untying in his stomach, too late to tell you verbally as you felt his warm seed leak inside, cumming first.

“Merida”

You were also close, loving how despite already coming, Javier was fucking you so that you could cum too.

”I’m gonna” you pant, forgetting to finish your words as you felt hot liquid threatening to spill from every stroke he made in your hole.

Javier whispers, pressing ticklish kisses from his mustache to your bare shoulder. “Cum on my cock, baby, you know what to do” he muttered, both of you groaning loudly as both your releases became mixed inside you.

“Oh fuck, Javi!” you scream, hair a mess and pussy aching.

You feel dizzy, used but happy, shivering as a large sludge of your cum spills out and drips down your thigh to the carpet.

Javier is quick to lap you up with his tongue, slotting his face in your ass as he filthily cleans you up.

“Can you get these off me, please?” you ask him meekly, relishing the feeling of your sensitive wrists when they touch the cool air.

Your husband presses a kiss to each one, marking your ass and shoulders with playful hickeys and bruises.

You both catch your breath for a moment, Javier turning you over so you were facing the ceiling, your sensitive tits perking up.

It’s all so sudden but before you two realize it, you’re latching onto each other immediately, hungrily sharing a kiss as your arms wrap around his neck.

“Hermosa,” he tries to begin, before being shushed by you, pulling him back in to lovingly kiss your husband.

Sure, rough sex was great, but god did you love just kissing Javier absentmindedly. You had to touch each other, kiss each other, that was how you two made up.

“Lo siento, hermosa” he sighs, wanting to get lost in your embrace. You smile, knowing that Javier is sincere. “Me too.” You reply, voices hushed as it was now later in the night, the neighbors probably aware of what had happened next door. A moment passes.

“Didn’t you say you wanted me to suck you off?” you asked innocently, gazing up at Javier as your head rested on his chest.

He grins, softly whispering a later as he played with your hair, cock soft against his thigh as your leg nudges it playfully.

He growls, nipping your ear. “Behave” he says firmly, cheeks rosy. This time you listen.

“Who picked you up today then if I didn’t come?” Javi asks, reaching over to wrap a blanket around you two near the fireplace.

You smile, knowing that you can’t always listen to Javier’s warnings. “Just some cute young taxi driver. Asked me for my number y’know” you grinned.

Javier looks down, eyes darkening as he mutters softly. “Unless you’re gonna be a brat again, you better watch yourself” he reaches for your mound, cupping you softly so you moan in pleasure, still sensitive from the previous activities. He hoists you above his stomach, feeling your nails scratch his pudge and bend down as you give him a kiss. “I’m just messing with you” you giggle, a familiar feeling coming back when his bare cock is nestled by your thighs. “He was old. A grandpapi” you said, feeling his hands roam the flesh of your ass.

You press a hand against Javier’s chest, giggling as you peck his jawline. He rolls his eyes, hands wrapping around your waist instinctively.

“I missed you.” he mutters, feeling you up.

You smile, remembering how warm it is on top of your husband before you shut your eyes softly.“Me too.”

You look up, apologizing to him. “Sorry for almost stabbing you with that knife”

You feel the vibrations and sounds of a loud chuckle, Javier holding on to you. “It was an accident” you mumble, circling shapes on his skin. He knows.

You make up for it by leaning in, pressing kisses under the shell of his ear. Whispering how you’ll let him stuff his cock in your mouth again to get even.

Fuck it, he thinks. He’d let you kill him anyday.

3K notes · View notes

monzamash · 9 months

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smile you're on camera — lando norris

when miami hits different... lando norris x you (femreader) | 1.8k rating – 18+ (sex, coarse language) masterlist

“That all looked sufficiently cringe.”

Lando’s gruff laugh echoes as he slid the balcony door open for you. You had been watching him for the past half hour filming promotional content for the Miami GP, each one cheesier than the last and you couldn’t help but admire his work ethic – even if it meant watching him make a complete fool of himself in the blistering heat.

A grumbled “you’ve got no idea” paired with a deep sigh in reply was all you were going to get and a sweet kiss pressed to the back of your head.

He helped you collect the book you’d abandoned in lieu of watching him glow in the golden hour and retreat inside from the humidity, still suffocating as the sun set off in the distance. The sweet relief of the air con as you stepped inside provided a little bit of respite while Lando shuffled around the room, closing windows and doors, trapping what cool air you did have inside your hotel room.

“I have something to show you…”

Lando sheepishly declares as you splay out on the hotel bed, grumbling through a jaw splitting yawn, “What is it?” “I stole it.” That got your attention, shooting up from where you were laying down, “But I’ll take it back tomorrow… after we’ve used it.”

Sitting in his hot little hands was a camcorder that had seen better days, scratches on its lens and all. Lando watched your shocked expression fall to one of annoyance as you sat back on your hands, eyebrow quirked and scowl present on your pretty face.

“Absolutely not.”

“Aw come on,” He drawls, holding the camera up to his eye – the other squinted behind the viewfinder, “I swapped in one of my SD cards and I know you’re into this kinky shit. Admit it…”

Lando kept the camera up, the little red light that was on all of those old school recorders flashed in the dark. Your eyes were rolling when his grabby reached out for your hip, “You’re out of your mind.”

“That’s the effect you have on me, baby.”

A soft hum slips from your lips feeling the pads of his fingers tracing down the outside of your thigh, too easily convinced by the man who consumed your every thought; every desire. You missed him when he was gone, the days spent with him slimmer as the season lulled on. So, maybe having something to reference on those cold, lonely nights was excuse enough to indulge the idea. And he was right – you are into this shit.

“Just make sure you can’t see too much,” You whisper into the air, giving the green light.

Lando’s little noise tells you everything. He's excited about this; you can tell by the way he nips and presses a couple of sloppy kisses to your cheek before scurrying off to set up the camera. He was a giggly mess thinking about how fucking lucky he was to be with someone who was up for anything. Equal parts classy and devious – just the way he likes it.

“Hop up on the bed so I can frame you,” He sweetly instructs, eyes trained on the small screen lighting his dark features, ocean eyes a moody blue.

You do as you’re told and crawl up onto the comically large bed, propped up on one elbow with hair a mess. Lando smiles when he shifts focus onto you – the sheer white dress you were wearing flaunting everything he loved about your body. All curves and supple skin, pebbled nipples peaking through – the silverware you had secretly added to them as a surprise for him peaking through under the fabric.

“You are so fucking pretty,” He almost whimpers; a warm flush washing over your sticky skin. It was hot in the room you were in and the way Lando was eyeing you from behind the camera was searing.

“Can you take the dress off for me?” his voice was a lower octave than before, eyes still watching your shadowed body moving across the messy bed.

“Not sure how to make this look sexy but…” You huff, carelessly tearing the thin material over your head and throwing it to the side, “your wish is my command.”

Lando chuckles quietly and strides over to you, no longer able to keep his hands off what was his. He hopes there’s enough space on his card for what he was about to do to you – because in reality, this was selfishly for him to indulge in when you weren’t near, to feel like you were close when you’re a million miles away. You sat on the edge of the bed, eyes following his as he reaches out and presses down your hair, frizzed up by the dress sitting on the floor beside his feet.

“So cute,” He admires, “And somehow even sexier…”

He leans down and meets your craned neck halfway in a tender, reassuring kiss, “If it gets too weird just say, baby.”

His words were just loud enough for you to hear, not for the camera – just you, “Oh, you know I will.”

He laughs into the kiss, knowing that you were in full control of this situation – he was under no illusions when it came to your dynamic. It was laced through your entire relationship, the fair balance of power – of give and take. But tonight, all he wanted was to make you feel good and so he rested between your already shaky thighs and pried them apart, basking in how seduced you are by his little ploy.

“You pretend like this shit doesn’t turn you on but look at you,” He revels, one solitary finger brushing languidly through your folds and earning an impatient growl.

Lando wasn’t in the mood for teasing – the battery life on the camera and your legs wrapping tightly around his head made sure of that. He helps you shuffle back on the bed, hands gripping your hips as he rearranges the shot – you caught a glimpse of the blurry reflection of the two of you naked on the camera lens and it sent a pang of doubt down your spine, chilling.

“I hope we don’t look disgusting when we watch this back.” It was an honest thought – one you hope doesn’t kill the mood.

“You look so unbelievably hot,” Lando hums, kissing the top of your shoulder before pressing his hand to your lower back, “Lay on your front and I’ll fuck you like this…”

You raise a sceptical eyebrow, “From the back? This is getting real porny now.” But of course you do it, positioning yourself on your stomach, backside up with a playful smirk that had the man behind you grinning like an idiot.

“Might as well put on a bit of a show just in case this does get out somehow,” Lando teases, earning a swift round arm to the ribs. He grimaces in pain but you knew behind those flirtatious blue eyes, he loves it.

“Well you better fuck me good, huh? Wouldn’t want people thinking you’re a dud shag…” Now it was your turn to taunt and Lando’s reaction was the exact one you were praying for.

A hasty smack to your ass that had been brushing against his clothed cock for better part of a minute; it wasn’t a hard but it certainly wasn’t timid, either and the moan that slipped from your lips had him itching to rearrange your insides. He smoothed over the reddening mark and pressed a sweet kiss to your spine before pushing down the waistband of his sweatpants, freeing himself between your thighs.

“Don’t hold back those sweet sounds, pretty girl. I wanna hear you, okay? I want everyone to hear you…”

“Same goes for you, handsome.”

Your eyes flutter shut as you surrender to the delicious stretch he gives you. Weakly pushing back but making no head way in adjusting. A whimper falls from your mouth before the squeal when Lando lunges forward, pushing deeper with a sadistic grin lining his bitten lips. He was sweating already – tanned skin glimmering against the darkening sunset while every muscle on his stomach contracted, delving further into your depths.

“That’s it, Lan,” You sputter out, blowing stray hairs out of your face so you can get a good look at your boyfriend, “Move it just like that – yes…”

And he did, rotating your hips tantalisingly slow to begin but gradually building up his long, delectable strokes – the sounds of skin slapping and shallow breathing heightening all of the senses. In the midst of his relentlessness, you manage to slip your hand between your thighs, toying with the sensitive bud begging for your attention. Lando’s strained hum of approval when he felt your back arching sent a rush of blood to your fingertips.

“Tell me how good it feels when you play with yourself?” He asks, hunched over and kissing the nape of your neck when you opened your eyes, giggling at the wispy curls tickling your skin, “Is that how you do it when I’m not around?”

“God, yes… But wish you were always here, baby.”

“Do ya imagine me fucking you like this, huh? Begging for that pussy to come around my cock?” He probes, receiving a moan in response – your brain short-circuiting from the orgasm quickly approaching, easing you over the edge.

You buried your head at first, shying away from the little red light flashing in your rolling eyes until Lando gently encouraged you to ‘show him your pretty face when you come undone’. It was all whispers and moans and absolute bliss when you resurfaced, pupils blown out from both sides as Lando reached over you and flipped the small preview screen around.

“Look at yourself,” He grunts into your neck, losing control of every single fibre of his being as he pumped into you.

“Fill me up, Lan. Make a mess…”

“If you say shit like that to me, you're gonna make me– fucking… fuck,” He sputters out, chanting your name, and before you can even blink, you feel that familiar twitch inside you.

The one that almost always triggers another high, extremely close to losing yourself to the white hot pleasure all over again.

Lando collapses into your slick back, his warm release pooling as he catches his breath and holds you tightly. You look up at the camera – the red light still flashing as you muster up every ounce of energy remaining and pick it up off the tripod. You hold it stupidly close to his flushed cheeks that are pressed into your skin, eyes closed.

“Any last words before I turn this off?” You ask, Lando slowly lifts his chin up and rests it next to your face. You smile at how equally fucked out and sleepy you both appear, blissfully satisfied by your work. His voice is gravelly when he tries to speak, clearing his throat before trying again.

“Um, yeah so make sure you like the video and subscribe if you haven’t already…”

“Stop!” You shout and smack him in the shoulder – Lando groans with faux pain into your neck as you turn the camera off and wriggle out of his strong grasp.

“You are unbelievable!” You jest, swatting his tickling fingertips away.

“What? I could’ve said stay tuned for part two…”

a/n – happy new years everyone x

#lando norris #lando norris imagine #lando norris x reader #lando norris smut #f1 imagine #f1 smut #f1 x reader #monzamashmasterlist #smile you're on camera fic

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niya-writesshit · 6 days

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cowboy!artdonaldson x fem!reader

based on this request :

Anonymous asked:

art donaldson cowboy au where he works as a ranch hand for your dad.... and then he fucks u in ur daddy's grand farm mansion when he isn't home. hello im hard! ~ 🌸

TW: use of y/n (1), smut MDNI - oral (f receiving), swearing, not proofread

word count: 2264 (THIS IS SO LONG WHAT THE FUCK)

¡! ❞ a/n: uh im bricked anon! also basically dodge mason and panic reference! and this is kinda shit im sowwy. REPOST BC LAST TIME IT FLOPPED AND IDK WHY.

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there was something about your pretty little accent that got art's damn mind spinning. clear, sort of clipped and lilting, the typa accent one could only get from living in the big old city of new york. you were his boss's daughter, which made it all the more sinful when he imagined that accent in... other (less proper) situations he shouldn't've been. unlike the other ranch-hands, he kept a polite distance. he didn't leer or ogle at you as you walked by — his momma taught him better than that — but he sure as hell wanted to as you bent down to pick up something from the front seat of your convertible. tiny little white skirt rising higher and higher and higher and higher and art was hooked. oh how he would love to ruin you, daddy's dear little girl visiting carp for the summer. oh how he would love to grab you by those meaty thighs, defile you 'till you were crying his name. oh how he would love.

he trudges through the mud up to the ranch house, all done for the day and ready to wash up in the worker's quarters in the back. his legs feel like lead after hours of wrangling the cattle and fixing fences in the blistering sun. the thin flannel he wore today clung to his skin, soaked through with sweat. before he even gets to look in mirror, he knows his face is all ruddy-like and burnt, even though his hat supposed to be protecting the damn sunburn that made his cheeks string.

he splashed cold water on his face. he grabbed an old rag to wipe his face, just about ready to head to the showers, when he heard it—that damn voice, right behind him.

he turned, and there you were. standing in the doorway, looking a little out of place in your crisp, white summer dress. your eyes scanned the tiny room like you weren’t sure if you should be there or not, and art figured you probably didn’t have much reason to be back here.

you gave a sheepish smile. "hi… i, uh, think i got a little lost. do you know where the main house is?"

he’d dreamed 'bout this moment before, though maybe not quite like this. you, standing there all pretty, looking gorgeous in your spotless attire, while he was still dripping in sweat and grime. the polite distance he’d vowed to keep suddenly felt a lot tougher to maintain now that you were looking at him, lips slightly parted as you waited for an answer.

he rubbed a hand over the back of his neck, trying to focus on your face. "main house is back that way," he drawled, pointing out the direction you missed. his voice came out rougher than he meant it to. "reckon you took a wrong turn."

you smiled wider, stepping a bit closer. damn near makes him swallow his own tongue. "thanks," you reply, your tone light, conversational. "still trying to figure out my way around."

art nodded, eyes flicking up to meet yours, though his heart was beating faster than it should’ve been. he shifted on his feet, gaze shifting from your eyes down to your lips down to your chest down to your thighs down to — back to your eyes.

"i can walk you back if you want," he offered, tipping his hat back slightly, trying to stay cool about it, but hell, you already had him wrapped around your finger and didn’t even know it.

you gave him a slow nod, tongue flitting out to lick at your lips. "i'd appreciate that, thank you."

as the two of you made your way back to the main house, art tried his best not to tip over sideways at the sheer thought of you being this close to him. he feels like a pathetic little dog, all worked up over you just walking in line with him, brushing your arm against his every once in awhile. he's so focused on keeping his cheeks from flushing that he doesn't hear you the first time.

"hello?"

art blinked, shaking himself out of his daze. "huh? oh, sorry, darlin' —didn’t catch that."

you tilted your head slightly, a playful smile on your lips as you repeated your question. "what's your name? i'm y/n."

"art," he cursed himself for his curt response, but you didn't seem to notice, bright smile still holding as you nodded.

"nice to meet you, art." your gaze held his with a sort of lingering intensity that unfortunately made art's pants tighten even further than before. "so, what do else do you do here in carp when you're not showing lost city people around?"

art shrugs, hands stuffed in his pockets. "dunno. i work, i guess."

you roll your eyes slightly and nudge at him with your elbow. "okay. what about for fun?"

art shifted awkwardly, feeling your elbow nudge him gently, sending a spark down his spine. he cleared his throat, "fun?" he repeated, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye. "ain’t much time for that out here, if I’m bein’ honest. mostly work, and maybe a beer with the boys now and then."

you let out a soft laugh, the sound teasing him in all the right ways. "that’s all? no girls? no beautiful maiden waiting around for you to finish all this hard work?"

art swallowed hard. he glanced down at his boots for a second, trying to collect himself, then back at you. "no, ma’am. no one special like that," he muttered. "guess I ain’t much for courtin’ these days."

your lips curved into a lazy smirk. "hmm. that’s a shame. a guy like you? figured the girls would be lined up." your eyes glint with a darkness that art knew all too well. it was the same hungry look he felt in his own gaze, pupils dilated and eyes half-lidded with desire.

art rubbed the back of his neck, trying not to flush under the heat of your stare. he bit at the inside of his cheek, his self-restraint fraying as he fought the urge to just jump at you right then and there.

as you neared the main house, art's mind shifted to your father. the last thing he wanted was for the boss to catch wind of any unprofessional behavior. with a deep breath, art managed a strained smile, trying to redirect the rising heat in his chest. "well, here we are. better get you inside before your dad starts wonderin' where you’ve been."

you glanced at him with a smirk, seemingly unfazed as you adjusted your skirt. "funny thing, art," you said, your voice low and sultry, "i think daddy's still out of town. he won't be back 'till tomorrow." you took a step closer, hands reaching out to dust off art's collar.

he swallows hard at the feeling of your finger brushing against his neck. "we got the place to ourselves then, huh?" art drawls, voice rough and husky with barely contained desire.

"looks like it." your arms wrapped around his neck, finger curling around a stray blond locked as you watched art's face contort. deciding, deciding, decided. his hands found your hips, and with a light tap to your thigh, you jumped into his arms, kissing him hard.

your lips were warm and soft, and they parted slightly as art slipped his tongue inside, his one hand scrabbling for the front door handle. it clicked open and he stumbled inside, heading straight for the living room. your fingertips brush softly against his back as he sits down on a couch, letting you straddle him at the hips. he's still sweaty, but you seem to like it, burrowing your head in his neck as he nips at yours, breathing in the sharp, musky smell of him.

the both of you pant heavily as you scrambled to take of his shirt, and then him your dress. art presses slobbery kisses down your chest and torso, salivating at the sight of your little blue panties, pressed down against his crotched. little sighs and moans left your lips as he trailed his fingers along with his mouth, to the very top of your underwear, kissing along the seam. before you can object, he's shifted you over and laid down. "hop on, darlin'," he mumbles, referring to his mouth as you pull off your panties with a crooked finger. hesitantly, you crawl up his chest. apparently not quick enough for art, he hooks an arm around your waist and places you on his face himself, moaning at the pure scent of you.

he starts by kissing the inside of your right thigh, then suckling the inside of your left. he revels in your scent for a few more seconds before burying his face inside you, lapping you up with long, thick licks against your folds. you squeal when you first feel his (clearly) expert tongue against you, flexing and swirling as he find your sweet spots immediately. it hasn't even been 5 seconds when he stops with a pop! - peeking out from under your thighs with a wild expression on his face. his hat is tipped over under him, the rim sticking out from behind his unruly blond locks. "you're hoverin'. " he was right, you were, too scared to put your full weight on this poor man you had met not half an hour ago. "sit on my face, baby, please," he practically whimpers.

and how could you say no? eyes wide, face slick with your juices, looking so goddamn angelic — you couldn't. and even though you were scared to crush him, craving the feeling of his tongue inside you again, you sit — nice and proper this time.

he starts up again with a kind of feverish intensity you could only expect from a starved man. you moan and whimper on his face, scratching against his scalp as you looked for something to grip onto. art groans in pleasure against your folds when you tug at his hair, his grip that of iron as he holds you down by the hips hard enough to bruise. his other hand is groping at your tits, pinching and swirling at the nipples as he watches you shake on his tongue.

his own dick is being completely ignored, even though it's brick-hard and leaking enough pre-cum you can see it through his pants. the only pleasure he needs is your sweet little whines and needy moans as he laps up your juices like your pussy is the holy grail. before you even know it, he's driven you through orgasm after orgasm, happily sucking away at your cunt as you squirm and scream on top of him. "ohmygod, art. oh my fucking god!" your yells are loud enough that your little boyfriends from new york could probably hear you.

and after he's been there for so long your head's rolling, and your clit is swollen and overstimulated, he's finally done, pulling back to rest his face on your thighs. his cheeks leave your own slick against your legs, nose shiny at the tip but with a big old stupid grin on his face. you're panting, pussy throbbing and puffy as you rake your fingers though his hair, looking down at him with your mouth agape. "holy shit, art."

his grin grows even wider as he watches you, fingers rubbing lazy circles on your hips as you struggle to compose yourself. "am i good?" he asks, already certain of the answer, but eager to boost his ego even more.

you nod, eyes dazed and glossy as you ran your hands over his cheeks. "so good, art. holy fucking hell." you could already hear him boasting to all the other ranch hands in his stupidly attractive little southern accent — i made that city girl cum 5 times on my tongue!

he nods slowly in response, pretty eyes looking up at you all proud. "that's what i like to hear, darlin'."

the next thing he heard made his heart sink all the way from where it was, up in the clouds all dazed, to his stomach. the front door click open, and the booming voice of your father, "baby, i'm home!"

you'd heard it before him, and you jumped off of his chest and pulled your dress back on before poor art even had time to register what was happening. you sat straight up next to him, looking perfect — albeit a little red, as your terrifyingly massive father stomped into the room. his expression changed from exhaustion to pure anger as he took in art, sprawled half-way up on the couch, shirt off and hair a mess. "what the hell do you think you're doing?" he roared from across the room.

"get out of my damn house!" your father bellowed. art scrambled off of the couch, grabbing his hat from under his head. clumsy and hurried as he fumbled with his shirt. you were too stunned to move, thighs still throbbing, as he sprinted out of the back door before your father could make it to him. the barrel of a man slammed the door behind him, making you wince.

as art scurried down the backyard and past the worker's quarters, shirt still off and hat placed haphazardly on his head, the first thoughts in his head was — 'i am so fucking sacked.'the next ones placed a lazy smile on his face. 'goddamn, that was worth it.'

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¡! ❞ © niya-writesshit 2024

¡! ❞ a/n: i believe this is the longest thing i've written on this blog everyone applaud!

#¡! ❞ niya's writing #¡! ❞ niya replies !#challengers smut #challengers 2024 #art donaldson x reader #art donaldson #art x reader #art donaldson smut #munch #patrick zweig #dodge mason #cowboy smut

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ashhh-14 · 1 year

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Tropes? Tropes but make it good

Characters- Diluc, Kaeya, Bennett, Albedo, Razor, Venti, Zhongli, Xiao, Baizhu, Xingqui, Chongyun, Tartaglia, Heizou, Ayato, Gorou, Thoma, Itto, Scaramouce, Alhaitham, Kaveh, Cyno, Tighnari, Neuvillette, Lyney, Wriothesley, Freminet,

Warning- suggestive in chongyun's (dw he's aged up here bubs)

Note- All characters are aged, a dot '.' Meaning scene change , font meaning past memory.

A/n- hope you enjoy!

Baizhu

Doctor patient dynamic

Gentle hands rubbing your back constantly as your coughing fit seemed endless once again. "I-I don't think I'll be able to watch the next lantern right with you like I promised doctor Baizhu." You smiled through the pain, the said man sighing, "Stop doubting my abilities as a Doctor (Y/n). You'll get better." Running his hand through your hair as you layed down, exhaustion making your eyes droop close. "I'll make sure of it, my Little Violet."

Kaveh

Childhood friends to lovers

"Look what I made!" He looked up as you placed something on his head, one hand coming up to touch it, " A flower crown?" "Mhm. Just for you!" He blushed.

"I got you something Kaveh~" He turned to you from where he was writing his thesis, "(Y/n) how many times do I have to say you don't have to buy me art supplies. Um let me buy you lunch as repayment." He looked into your eyes with a gentle gaze as you hopped on the desk beside his papers, placing a box. "Too bad. I already made some for the both of us." "(Y/-" his words got cut short as you gently placed your finger on his lips, "shush Kaveh."

Al haitham

Academic rivals to lovers

"Ugh not again." You muttered under your breath as you looked at the list of top scorers. "Try harder. Maybe you'll be able to get a little better if you work on your gold fish attention span." A voice came as someone passed by, knowing very well who this person was as you sighed in irritation.

Soft clicks of shoes were the only echos in the house of daena as Al haitham made his way towards a bookshelf, his eyes falling onto a figure. He placed his book on the table gently, rounding the table, he placed the pen down from your hand as he placed his cloak on your shoulders, covering you to keep you warm as he pushed the hair away from your face. "Stop pushing yourself so hard."

Wanderer

Grumpy x Sunshine

"Oh c'mon would it kill you to come with me?" You pleaded as your partner kept ignoring your request, "There's no point in me going with you-" "I think you should go with them. It'll broaden your spectrum and give you a new way of looking at things." A gentle voice came as your eyes sparkled at the person. "See?! Even Lesser Lord Kusunali agrees with me!" "NOT YOU TOO " He yelled, grumbling. You pout, crossing your arms over your chest as you stood up, "I'll be leaving Lord Kusunali, since he doesn't want to go, I'll go and ask Cyno. I heard there's a new card back released there too, he'll be happy to come with me." Nahida blinked up at you as you started walking, observing how your frown turned into a sly smirk as soon as a hand gripped your wrist. "Not happening. I'm coming with you."

Cyno

Co workers to lovers

"Hmm how long do you think this water will last us here Cyno?" You eyed the big bag of water in your hand as you kept walking on the flaming sand in the middle of the desert, "It should last us till tonight. Don't worry, there's a village nearby, we can restock our supplies and get some well desserved rest." You looked at Cyno, unamused "Get it? It's because we're in a dese-" For the first time he cut himself from his explanation, you sighing as if the heavens saved you as he told you to stay put, going to converse with a group of eremites that were closeby. You took a seat in the shade of a giant rock. 'Wait, why is he coming back with a-' "Get on it. Your feet aren't used to the hot sand of the desert, they're already red from the external temperature, it'd be bad if they get blisters. I borrowed us this Sumpter Beast, we'll return this on our way back." Your face started getting warmer, whether it was because of the temperature of desert or your general Mahamatra, you didn't know.

Tighnari

Student teacher dynamic

"Ow!" A book came in contact with your head as you sat on the chair listening to your master's unending lecture. "So the next time I see you head into a withering zone all on your own, I'll be cutting down your sweets that you love so much." Your eyes widened at that, not your sweets! "What did my sweets ever do to you! Plus, I had it covered in the whithering zone!" Smack "Ouch! Stop hitting me-!" Your breath got caught in your throat as Tighnari placed his book under your chin, tilting it upwards as he brought his face close to yours, looking into your eyes, "Next time you won't be doing something so reckless. Okay my Lotus?"

Heizou

Undercover agent(you) to lovers

[ (C/n) -> cover name]

"I'm so sorry I wasn't looking where I was going!" You apologised to the young looking male. "Oh it's totally fine. Don't worry about it" He smiled, asking what your name was. "(C/n)" You replied, your smile widening when he asked if you'd like to go get a cup of coffee with him.

"Can you actually be serious for once Heizou?" You rolled your eyes as you kept walking through Chinju forest, sighing at your companion's carefree nature. He chuckled, " You want me to be serious huh?" You nodded," yes! It'd be- wa-!" Your sentence was cut off as your back hit a tree bark, your eyes leveling with none other than Heizou's himself. You shifted as he gazed at you in silence, noticing how he got much closer as each moment passed. His lips barely apart from your ear, he whispered, "Is this serious enough for you?.....(Y/n)."

Xiao

Eternal acquaintances to lovers

"You guys just loveee drawing on his face while he's sleeping don't you" you chuckled, feeling the cool breeze as other 4 yakshas drew little shapes on the face of the one sleeping. "Oh you know his expression is priceless whenever he finds out what we did!" Bosacius laughed.

"Do you ever know when to take a break?!" You were used to scolding him, and he was used to hearing it. A little too used to it. "Don't you smile when I'm here telling you to take care of yourself!"

Your eyes opened slowly, sounds of fireworks and a hand stroking your hair waking you up. You rubbed the haze out of your eyes, "Did they already start?" You pushed yourself up from what you thought to be ground, but lifting your head up you realised it was, "I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to-" He shushed you, gazing down at you gently as his thumb stroked your cheek. Your face grew warm as you sat up to avoid his stare, only to be turned around, feeling his head on your shoulder, his breath on your neck sending shivers down your spine. "S-Shouldn't you watch the fireworks as well?" You stuttered out, not able to focus on the display yourself. He just sighed, tightening his grip around you.

Zhongli

Newly shifted neighbours to lovers

He was in the middle of pouring himself some freshly brewed tea when a knock landed on his door. Your head tilted upwards to look at the tall male. You didn't know what you expected your neighbour to look like but you certainly didn't think of this. He looked... ethereal. "Umm I just shifted here and please take this." You handed him a paper bag. He looked at it and then at you, smiling, "Grace me with your company over some tea?"

"You really don't have to stay up this late for me." You said apologetically to the man sitting beside you, helping you with your thesis you had to write last minute. "It's totally okay. So as I was saying, this part of Liyue------" this went on for hours until he saw you rubbing your eyes. He chuckled," Is Liyue's history that boring?" "Wha- no of course not! It's interesting. I've never thought Liyue had so much to it." You smiled. A large hand came up to cup your cheek, making you look at him, and suddenly you realised how close you two were sitting for all this time. "Sleep's evident in your eyes" he noted as your eyes became hazy with sleep, "I'll take you to bed. My little dove."

Albedo

Klee's babysitter to lovers

"Klee no bombing the fishes again!!" You said to the little girl, so done with her shenanigans for this week. The little girl pouted, looking down until an idea popped into her head, "Lets go see Albedo then!" She smiled.

The little ball of sunshine was sleeping peacefully in the corner of Albedo's lab wrapped in two blankets while you laid beside her, trying to fall asleep as well because you had nothing to do and there was nothing Albedo needed help with, but the cold was making it too difficult. Were you actually jealous of a little girl's pyro vision? Absolutely not. You don't know when you fell asleep, or rather, passed out.

'Oh. They're both sleeping peacefully.' He walked up to the two of you, quickly noting how your face looked a little pale. His fingertips touched your skin 'Cold' he thought.

The little girl was the first one awake," Albedo! I had this dre-" she cut herself short when she noticed her brother sleeping too...while holding you close to his chest. "Maybe Klee should sleep some more~!"

Razor

Pack members to lovers

The chase of two little pups continued in wolvendom until they reached Andreas, where they started their chase back to their destination, their minds on the piece of juicy meat the winner will get.

Some things never really change, like you and Razor having a game of chase. The difference is, however, he's chasing you this time and you two's size differences now that you've all grown up. You landed on the ground with a soft thud, your back hitting the soft grass as you saw Razor on top of you, his skin glistening in sweat as he gave you a cheery smile, "I won again (n/n)!" You playfully rolled your eyes, "Yeah yeah I get you're faster than m- eep-! Razor-!" You giggled, trying to move away as he started licking your face and neck. His hands tightened around your wrists," No running far anymore" He whined.

Chongyun

Strangers to lovers

"But I asked for that popsicle first!"

"And I saw it first!"

"I'm their regular customer!"

"Not like I have them once a year!"

You bit off a little chunk of Chongun's icy popsicle," Hey what did I say about no having my popsicle!" You laughed, getting closer to him all of a sudden," Well if you don't want to share this popsicle, I can always make do with the other one you have~" thump

Yes he fainted.

Diluc

[Childhood known] Bartender-owner relationship to lovers

"If you'd like, you can work at my tavern. I can use the help and you can use the money." A kind offer he made to his childhood neighbour when you came back from sumeru and needed a job, not wanting to stay away from your homeland.

A soft cry left your lips when a broken glass shard pricked your hand, you continued picking up the glass pieces the customer accidentally broke, ignoring the bleeding hand 'I'd have to mop the floor anyway.' A strong yet gentle grip pulled you up and towards the sink to wash and dress your wound, "Why'd you ignore it?" You bit your lip, not knowing how to answer. "Be careful next time." He sighed.

The number of people were relatively less today, maybe because of the windbloom festival, giving you an opportunity to relax and unwind with a drink yourself. The door opened as you turned your head to see who it was. "Ah master Diluc! Let me go get you some grape juice-" You were about to stand up when two arms caged you against the counter, leaning towards you," Stop calling me that. It's Diluc for you. Just Diluc."

Ajax

Contract marriage

'To stay with party A's family and take care of party A's siblings, treat A like a husband in front of A's family. The contract shall last for three years.'

Signed, (Y/n)

It's been 2 years since you signed that contract, staying with Childe's family wasn't bad, they all treated you very nicely and that a corner of your heart knew that your family was now out of bankruptcy because of this, you were content....for the most part anyway.

"Look who's home~!" A very excited Childe emerged through the main door, his servants taking away the bags he was carrying as he picked up Teucer. "I brought you Mr. Cyclopes figurine Teucer!" You smiled to yourself as you watched each of his sibling hug their older brother, used to watching the scene from afar at this point. What you didn't expect was him making his way up to you, his height towering over yours as you looked up at him confused, your face flushing as he pulled you closer to him by your waist, kissing your forehead, "How have you been my love?"

"G-Good." You stuttered out. All his siblings left the living room to give you two some privacy, happy to see the sight. He brushed the strands away from your face, looking into your eyes," Sorry about that. But I missed you. I don't know why, maybe because I look forward to seeing you now." Your eyes widened, "And... I want to take you with me the next time I leave. If you'll join me."

'Because It's not just a contract to me anymore (Y/n).' He thought.

Xingqui

Library crushes to lovers

Your eyes peeked over the book to look at the blue haired male, quickly hiding behind it again as his eyes fell on you. "Oh god please tell me he didn't see me." You muttered to yourself.

"The realm of humans was known as the Zhongzhou, while the gods reside in Shenxiao. At the end of-------" he kept explaining the plot of his favourite book, not like you weren't listening, but half your focus was on looking at him.

"Umm (Y/n). There's this new book shop that opened in north Liyue. Will you join me tomorrow?" Both your faces were warm when he said the words as you nodded shyly.

Itto

Oni dynamic

"Haha I won again! Take that (Y/n)!" The little oni jumped up as he came out victorious again. "Alright alright no need to rub it in the face Mr. Onikabuto."

"Do you really have to leave (Y/n)?" You nodded as tears pricked your eyes, hearing the sad tone from your oni friend who you've always heard cheery no matter the situation.

"As my great partner (Y/n) came back after years of staying in Natlan, they'll be joining the one and oni Arataki gang! Isn't that great!?" The said oni swung an arm around your shoulder as you ducked, "Your arm's heavy Itto!" "Of course it is I'm an Oni you know! You don't expect me to weigh like a twing do you?" He wiggled his eyebrows. "But boss should we trust them? I mean-" "Well of course! I know (Y/n) for agesss do you think I'll take just anyone into the great Arataki gang huh!?" He pointed smugly to himself as you sighed. Yup, he'll never change, and you won't have him any other way.

Kamisato ayato

Arrange marriage

Your eyes faced the floor of komore teahouse during the whole conversation of your father and the head of Kamisato Clan, accompanied with his sister and their most trusted servant. You saw the two Clan heads shaking hands from the corner of your eyes, knowing everything is sealed. You never even saw what your to-be husband looked like.

"Wouldn't you look at me even now (Y/n)?" Gentle voice of your soon to-be husband spoke as he held both your hands in his significantly bigger ones as the priest made preparations to start the wedding rituals. You swallowed nervously as you slowly looked up, your eyes falling on the mesmerizing lilac ones.

An arm wrapped around your waist from behind while the other one took away the hairbrush in your hand, placing it on the dresser as kisses were placed on your neck," My gorgeous wife." You closed your eyes, leaning your head back against his shoulder," Says the man who gave that word a meaning."

Bennett

Adventurer-medic to lovers

"Yup, bad luck again." You sighed as you bandaged his knee again. "I'm sorry (Y/n), for troubling you so much. I try to be careful but..." he rubbed the back of his head. "I know Benny, not your fault, just your luck." He nodded, giving you a thumbs up and a cheery smile as you finished bandaging his wound. "Butttt" you intergected when he was about to say something, "Nothing some tasty Chicken-Mushroom Skewers can't solve!" His eyes started sparkling the moment you said those words, making you giggle. "Yay let's go!"

Kazuha

Crew mates to lovers

"Wait up please!" You yelled to the ship that was about to leave the docks of Inazuma. You ran as fast as you could against the wooden planks 'Bad day to be wearing a Kimono damn it.' Apparently your voice wasn't loud enough for the Captain of The Crux to hear and your heart already started grimacing the loss of boarding the ship just a foot away as it started leaving. A sudden gust of wind lifted you up as your eyes closed shut in terror, the next time you opened them, you were on the ship, with nothing but a maple leaf in your hand.

You were leaning against the railing of the ship, looking at the vast ocean in fasination until a strong gust of wind passed, swaying your footing, almost tumbling you over but a hand to your wrist pulled you back just in time before it could happen. Your breath was caught in the throat due to the event, and because of the stranger with platinum hair and ruby eyes that saved your life. He was.... breathtaking. "Careful, the wind can be flickering unexpectedly once in a while. It's a vast ocean after all." He smiled.

Venti

Troublemaker and muse

You raised an eyebrow as your beer fell off the table, a person climbing on it instead. You looked up to see who it was, silently grimacing over your spilled beer. "Are you gonna pay for my beer or not" you said looking up at him while he ran his fingers along the lyre, "I'll pay you back with my wonderful performance~!" You sighed in irritation.

Your form busted through the tavern's door in the middle of the night, scanning over your surroundings before your eyes landed on the mop of green you were looking for. You swiftly made your way over, carrying the windy bard over your shoulder like a potato sack as you slid a pouch of mora in master Diluc's direction with an apologetic smile. "Put me downnnn I wanna kiss you!!" He whined on your shoulder as your face matched Master Diluc's hair.

Thoma

Ayaka's best friend

"Here let me help you with that." He took the heavy looking bags from your hand just as you entered the Kamisato estate. "Ah thank you Thoma." You smiled at him.

"I'm also inviting (Y/n)." Ayaka spoke to her brother over supper and Thoma couldn't help but chime in," If they're coming, It'd be great if I can make their favourite dish." Ayaka and Ayato gave each other knowing looks as Thoma looked between them, confused, "Did I say something wrong?"

"I'm sure (Y/n) could use some help for this event. I hand this task to you Thoma." Said Ayaka as she gently pushed him into a room and slid the door closed so he couldn't escape. "Thoma it's you-!" You squeaked, surprised by the sudden entrance. "Y-Yes Lady (Y/n). Lady Ayaka said I should help you if you were to face any difficulties. So do you need any assistance?" He scratched the back of his head. Your eyes fell onto the kimono belt in your head and then at him, your cheeks warming, "N-No it's fine." He wordlessly came towards you, taking the fabric from your hand, silently waiting for you to turn around as permission. You did, your breath getting caught in your throat as you felt his hands do their work, his hot breath hitting the back of your neck. A few moments passed, your head becoming lightheaded with each second until he did the final knot, whispering in your ear, "It's done, my princess."

Gorou

Subordinates to lovers

"Bear with it" you said as you poured the disinfectant over your commander's bleeding gash. He suppressed a hiss as you blowed on the wound in hopes to make it feel less burning. "Can you be more careful Gorou? There was no reason for you to come in front of me to stop that arrow!" You glared at him. "Your mother entrusted you to me (Y/n)" he tried reasoning. "As if Lady Kokomi didn't tell me to bring you back safe and sound!" He just chuckled at that.

You were laying down on the make shift infirmary's bed when a very happy Gorou emerged through the door, out of breath as if he ran all this way (yes he did) "(Y/n)! We did it! The war's over!" He ran over to you and hugged you tightly, you noticing how his tail was swaying back and forth. You chuckled. "I'm so happy (Y/n)! I can finally ask your mother for your hand in marri-" Your eyes widened.

"Oh god i shouldn't have said it like that- (Y/n)? (Y/n)?! Oh god don't faint-!"

Mhm, franatic Gorou is pretty cutee~

Kaeya

Fake dating

"Oh~, who is this pretty person beside you Kaeya?" Lisa ask, intrigued. "My partner." Kaeya smiled.

That was five months ago.

You two sawyed from side to side to the silent beat of the music as you looked at him, "So when is your 'target' arriving Kaeya? It's been 4 hours." "Oh don't worry. He'll be here soon enough. My brother can be a little late. He is returning to Mondstadt after months after all." He replied, looking into your eyes just as the venue's door opened to reveal the said man. In the blink of an eye, Kaeya's face was buried in the crook of your neck, " The hell are you doing?!" You whisper yelled at the man, not knowing what he was up to now. If you knew something about Kaeya, it was his unpredictable mind. "Just making sure my brother believes this of course. He has very keen eyes for lies you see. I want to prove to him that I can infact find an adequate partner for myself." "You sure it's not because of that 5 dozen wine bottles he put at stake." "That's just an added bonus!" He smirked as he rose up to his full height, taking your chin in between his finger and thumb, bringing your face closer to his, " Plus, Who knows? I might actually persue it to make it real."

Neuvillette

Second chance [mates][immortal reader- non specified species]

"I'll wait for you" said the man you loved so dearly with a solemn look in his eyes. "Don't" was all you said before you departed to the underworld, having not done anything wrong yet having no choice.

A hundred years passed since your own lover sealed your verdict, your heart wrenching with pain each time you think of it. 'He had his reasons. It's for the sake of fontaine.' Your heart longed for the hydro dragon, but you've made your heart think that 'He must have wanted this.'

The day finally came when you reached the surface again, and what you didn't expect was to see him waiting at the entrance. "Neuvillette...." You whispered, your eyes trying to drink back the tears they started producing on their own. The said man walked towards you in slow strides, his mind detached from his surroundings except you. Strong arms engulfed you in a delicate embrace, cradling you against his chest as if you were made of porcelain. And as much as your mind told you to pull away, your hands only gripped him tighter, crying against him. A few moments passed when you looked up at him, " Where's your partner?" Your heart broke as you asked that question, but you needed to know. "Right in front of me." He whispered. It was hard for you to believe him, you expected him to move on. "Did you forget.." he started, his lips placing a delicate kiss on the corner of your lips," That dragons mate for life?"

Wriothesley

Classic Husband x Wife

As soon as you stepped foot into your husband's office, the door being shut behind you, you heard fumbling noise. You made your way up the rounded stairs, crossing your arms over your chest as you made your way over to him, "Don't tell me you're drinking tea again Wriothesley." You narrowed your eyes at him. "No of course not. Why would I drink more when you set a boundary of 7 per day" he chuckled. "Oh?" You raised an eyebrow, leaning against his desk as you wiped the corner of his lips," What's this then?" You showed him the sugar powder on your fingertip. He chuckled nervously, "You see-"

Gentle kisses across your face is what woke you up, your hand tightening against the fabric....wait. You looked up and around you, realising you're in Wriothesley's office and in his lap, clutching onto his shirt. He softly kissed your forehead," Morning sunshine. Ready to go to the surface today?"

Lyney

Opposites attract

"Well someone looks a little out of it on a fine day like this." Your footsteps came to a halt as a guy stopped in front of you. His hand came up and passed by the side of your hair," Let me make it a little better" he chuckled as he pulled a rose 'out of your hair.' It was pretty, you thought taking it from him and giving him a small smile,"Thank you."

You pulled him along with you by his ear gently while he tried keeping up with your pace," I was just entertaining them!" He reasoned as you continued walking," You were clearly still there when they told you they didn't wanna see your tricks." "But it looked like they could use some help!" He whined. "Not everyone deserves you lifting up their spirits Lyney." You sighed. "Well, I can always lift your spirits up. If you know what I mean." Bonk

Freminet

Fated divers

Your hands splashed the water around you as oxygen depleted at a fast rate from your body, you tried tugging on the vines tightly wrapped around your foot in hopes to break them but they won't let up. You extended your arms up in an attempt to swim back to the surface but it was becoming harder by the second. It wasn't long before black dots started covering your vision and you started sinking further down.

Your eyes open with a start, the endless water still surrounding you but there was a stranger, with his lips on yours.

"Hey there Freminet~!"

"Oh hi (Y/n)" he gave you a small smile, looking up from where he was tinkering with clockwork. "I got you Seabird Sojourn!" You smiled as you sat beside him, looking closely at the details of his doing. You took his hand into yours, making his freckled cheeks blush a pink hue," Let's eat first before it gets cold."

Written by Yours truly

Masterlist

2K notes · View notes

theostrophywife · 1 year

Text

heat wave.

pairing: azriel x reader x cassian.

request: Hi I don’t know if your requests are open but if so would u write something with reader x cassian x Azriel maybe smutty little bit ( I feel like cass would have a size kink and Az a corruption one anyway🤷🏻‍♀️😂)

author's note: size kink cassian 🤝 corruption kink azriel. i swear i haven't forgotten about the bat boys, i'm just deep in the slytherin boys brain rot rn.

Summer swept through the city of starlight with a sweltering heat wave. The blistering sun left you feeling hot, damp, and sticky as sweat dripped down your back. The only relief to be found was in the sugary sweet cone of strawberry ice cream that Azriel had brought back for you from his trip to the market square. The shadowsinger kissed your temple before sauntering into the training pit to come face-to-face with Cassian.

The Illyrian warlord raised an amused brow. "So that's why you were late." Cassian mused, sending you a conspiratorial wink from your place underneath the shade. "You spoil her, Az."

"You're just jealous he didn't buy you a cone too, Cassie."

Cassian grinned. "You're the only sweet treat worth indulging in, and I'll have my taste of you soon enough, pretty girl." The suggestive words made your body buzz with excitement. "Right after I kick Azriel's ass for making me wait."

The shadowsinger chuckled before disappearing in a dark blur. He reemerged seconds later with twin blades in his hands and a mischievous grin. "Show me what you've got, Cassie."

You leaned back in your lounge chair, enjoying the cool relief of the sweet treat. It would've been cooler inside the house, but nothing, not even the thick muggy air could stop you from watching the two males spar.

By nature, Azriel and Cassian were competitive males.

The Illyrian warriors were opposite sides of the same coin—Cassian with his boldness and passion and heat; Azriel with his mystery and brooding and seduction. You always thought of them as fire and ice. The best of both worlds.

While the competition between them was fierce — whether in fighting or drinking or fucking, you found that Azriel and Cassian worked best in tandem.

More specifically, when they worked you in tandem.

At first, you were skeptical about the dynamic, but the more the three of you explored, the more comfortable you became with one another. It didn’t hurt that you had Cassian and Azriel completely wrapped around your finger. They would do anything for their sweet, innocent little priestess. Though the thoughts running through your mind as you watched them train were far from virtuous. If anything, they were downright sinful.

Underneath the sweltering summer sun, Cassian and Azriel moved swiftly, shedding their leathers to reveal planes of smooth, hard muscles that flexed with each movement as they darted across the red sand. Mirroring the treat in your hand, you were reduced to a sticky pool of desire as you shamelessly ogled your two favorite males.

Azriel glanced at you, a knowing smile gracing his handsome face. “Better lick it up fast, angel. You wouldn’t want to make a mess.”

Strawberry ice cream dripped all over your fingers and while you did your best to lap up the melted liquid, the heat was working against you. Besides, you were too distracted by their glistening bodies, golden brown and sweat slicked and all too tempting. You licked your lips, indulging in the lingering sweetness of strawberries and cream and wishing it was the taste of a set of deliciously sinful abs instead.

“I think she’d rather lick something else up, Az.”

You flushed, suddenly feeling hot all over despite your refuge in the shade. Cassian was a shameless flirt, but it was all in good fun. Teasing was his favorite part of this little game of yours, but in the end he always gave in. At your core, the two of you were absolute hedonists. Both too impatient to deny each other gratification.

Azriel, on the other hand, wasn’t as self indulgent. The shadowsinger could hold out for hours. Make both you and Cassian really beg for it. This time, you decided to get ahead of the game.

You shot a sly glance at Cassian while the shadowsinger had his back turned, urging him to play along. The Illyrian warlord grinned like a devil and discretely nodded before pivoting so that Azriel was facing you.

With a saccharine smile, you licked long, deliberate stripes along the cone while holding the shadowsinger’s heated gaze. “I was wondering,” you pondered as you wrapped your lips around the scoop rather suggestively. “If it feels as good for males as it does for females.”

Azriel cocked his head, intrigued. shadows twisted through his dark wings. “If what feels as good, angel?”

“Pleasuring someone with your mouth.” The shadowsinger stilled. Behind him, Cassian’s mouth dropped open. “I’ve never done it before, but I’d like to try. Maybe you could teach me, Az.”

Azriel’s jaw clenched as he inhaled deeply. Hook, line, and sinker. “Then you and Cas could both confirm my theory.”

Moments later, you found yourself crammed into the shower between Cassian and Azriel. The Illyrian warlord spread out on the built in marble bench, water dripping down his shoulders as his unbound hair formed a dark curtain around his face. He looked like the god of war, all lean muscle and rugged beauty.

Warm, honey eyes tracked your movements as you discarded your dress and stepped underneath the steady stream of water. The shadowsinger's gaze hungrily raked over your naked body as he tucked his wings in close.

"Get on your knees for me, angel."

You followed azriel’s instructions and knelt in front of Cassian. When you looked up, you found nothing but dark pools of lust staring back at you. Cassian suppressed a shiver at the sight of you on your knees, watching and waiting. Hanging onto every word.

Azriel brushed his thumb over your bottom lip. “Open your mouth, baby. Go slow at first. Treat it like the ice cream. Lick from the shaft to the tip.”

You did as you were told and gave tentative little licks along the underside of his cock. Cassian was warm velvet in your mouth. “That’s it, angel. You’re doing so well.”

Cassian moaned in agreement while the shadowsinger gathered your hair into a ponytail. “Now, hold your breath and take him as far as you can.”

You obliged, slightly gagging as Cassian settled in the back of your throat. Azriel knelt behind you, pressing encouraging kisses behind your ear. Sharp teeth grazed the column of your throat and you moaned, which elicited a hum of pleasure from the male above you. Peering through your lashes, you waited for Azriel’s instructions. he smirked, knowing he was in full control.

“Bob your head up and down. Make it messy, my love.” Cassian groaned as you picked up the pace, his dark lashes kissing the tops of his cheekbones while the back of his head rested against the marble tile. He gripped the edges of the bench so tightly that his knuckles were turning white.

Azriel chuckled darkly. He caressed your cheek, stroking over where Cassian was slotted in your mouth. “Our perfect little whore. So good at following instructions when you want to, yeah?”

You groaned as Azriel pushed your head down. Cassian hit the back of your throat, making you gag on his cock. His head fell back, mouth opening to release a filthy moan.

“That’s my good girl. Do you see what you’re doing to poor little Cassie? You’re unraveling him, angel. I bet he’s close to coming. Aren’t you, Cas?”

Cassian shuddered, his wings flexing behind him in confirmation. “Gods, don’t stop. Your mouth is perfect. Feels too fucking good.”

"Use both hands, love." Azriel instructed as he helped you get a firm grip on cassian. Water trickled through his perfectly sculpted abs, clenching as his release came closer and closer.

"Fuck, Y/N," Cassian growled. His hazel eyes burned as he watched you take all of him. Rough, calloused fingers caressed the hollow of your throat. He could feel you gag around him as he fucked your pretty mouth. You were so tiny and delicate, but absolutely fucking filthy too. Cassian was obsessed. "You're so pretty when you suck my cock."

You hummed in response, making the winged male buck against you. He gripped the back of your head and thrusted in and out as you moaned your approval. "Oh gods, Y/N. I'm so fucking close."

The shadowsinger grazed your earlobe with his teeth. "Swallow, baby. Every single drop. Do you understand?"

You nodded as Cassian shot hot ribbons into your mouth. The Illyrian warrior shuddered as you milked him dry, savoring the salt and musk of him hitting the back of your throat. He pulled you under the running water, droplets catching in your lashes as Cassian pressed you against the cold tile.

A mischevious grin curled against his lips as he caged you in. You startled at the way he completely enveloped you, the cover of his wings blocking out the light as his lips met yours. Cassian loved towering over you like this, his large hands roaming your body as he gripped your hips and lifted you up with ease.

You groaned as he wrapped your legs around his waist, his gruff movements making you feel as light as a rag doll as he kissed you fervently. He tasted like cinnamon and whiskey, an intoxicating combination that you chased with your tongue as you pulled at his hair. Cassian returned the favor by biting down on your bottom lip, chuckling darkly as your stiffened peaks pressed against the hard planes of his chest.

"Feisty little doll, aren't you?" He growled against your ear. Cassian hiked you up, letting you feel the effect of the kiss poking against your inner thigh. "I could take you right here and then without even breaking a sweat, sweetheart. You're such a tiny little thing, but you take cock so well, don't you?"

You responded with a whimper. Cassian bit into your neck, hard enough to leave a mark. "Cas, please."

The desperation in your voice was enough to make Cassian's cock twitch against your leg. You knew that with the right combination of pleading eyes and trembling lips, Cassian would be putty in your hands. You rolled your hips against him and he moaned against your neck. When his gaze met yours, his pupils were nothing but dark depths of desire.

"I need you, Cassian."

"Cauldron fucking boil me," he muttered. "Have me then, pretty girl."

You smirked, satisfied with your little victory until Azriel hovered behind Cassian's wings.

"Now who's spoiling her, Cas?" He nudged his brother aside and pulled you back down. Cassian smiled sheepishly, knowing full well that he would've fully given into you if the shadowsinger hadn't stepped in.

Azriel's smile was a cruel slant. "You're a devious little minx," he said. "You may be the perfect picture of innocence, but you're nothing but a filthy little slut, aren't you? It's too bad that I know all your tricks, angel. Seeing as how I’m the one who taught them to you."

You grinned. "It just means you're a great teacher, Az." The shadowsinger raised a brow as you snaked your arms around his neck. "You should be proud."

Azriel chuckled darkly before peeling you off of him. A dark curl clung to his cheek, covering the mischievous glint in his golden eyes. "I'll be proud after I make you squirt in my mouth two or three times." He nodded back to the marble bench. "Now be a good girl and lie down. You’re about to reap the consequences of your actions. I don't take kindly to being teased, my love."

The shadowsinger briefly glanced at Cassian. "You too, Cas. Hold her hips down. I don't want her squirming away before she's learned her lesson."

Cassian winked before settling onto the marble bench. Azriel instructed you to lie back against his brother's chest before kneeling between your legs. You swallowed thickly as the shadowsinger spread your thighs apart.

Azriel smirked as he secured your ankles around his neck. "You're dripping, angel." His seductive laugh skittered up your spine. "You like being a tease, don't you? Do you enjoy bringing Cassian and I to our knees?"

"Only because I love the view," you said with a smile. "But not as much as I love the both of you."

Cassian chuckled and wrapped you up in his arms. "We love you too, sweetheart, but Az is going to make you pay like he promised. Can't save you from him now, baby doll."

The shadowsinger kissed the inside of your knee and smiled. His warm breath fanned against your overheated core as he licked a teasing strip along your folds. You instantly arched into him, your body begging for more. Azriel signaled to Cassian, who shook his head and held your hips down.

"Don't let her up, Cassian." Azriel said. "Not until she begs."

Cassian only nodded and kept you firmly pressed against him as Azriel went to work. His tongue explored every inch of you, licking and sucking as though you were the strawberry cone from earlier. You nearly cried when he teased two fingers in, his mouth working in tandem to push you over the edge. The sensations were overwhelming and the combination of his mouth and fingers was enough to make you want to weep.

As always, Azriel set a punishing pace. It was like he was gauging how far he could push you until you completely lost your grip on reality. Your first orgasm felt like an explosion. Stars flooded your vision as though you were witnessing the demise of a dying star. A supernova.

The second time Azriel made you cum, you thought you were going to pass out from the intensity of the pleasure. When the third rolled around, you couldn't even remember your name.

"Az please," you cried. "I can't take any more."

Azriel glanced up at you, a damp curl clinging to his cheek as his mouth glistened with your arousal. He looked like a lion after devouring a fresh kill. Dark, lethal, and utterly dangerous. And you fucking loved him for it.

"You've got one more in you, darling. Doesn't she, Cas?"

Cassian smirked, his rough hands biting into your hips. "Maybe she needs a little motivation."

"Oh?" The smirk on Azriel's lips spelled nothing but trouble. He licked his lips, gathering the juices with his tongue. "Come and taste her on me, then. That should inspire her to ride another one out."

You swallowed thickly as Cassian kissed Azriel hungrily. The shadowsinger's scarred fingers snaked through Cassian's hair possessively, claiming him with his tongue and his touch. You groaned, whining until Azriel shot you a glare. He wasn't going to let you join in on the fun.

Cassian pulled away, looking dazed and disoriented. "You taste like heaven, doll." He kissed your cheek and chuckled as you tried to turn and catch his lips instead. "Be good and give Azriel one more, sweetheart. Then you can get all the kisses you want."

You pouted, but did as you were told. Azriel disappeared between your thighs again. Despite how overstimulated you felt, release found you in record time. Before you knew it, you were writhing against Azriel's mouth and coming for the fourth time.

It felt like both heaven and hell. Heaven because the pleasure was unlike any other. Hell because receiving that many orgasms back to back had you utterly spent even though you would've begged for more if you had the energy to speak.

"What did you learn today, angel?"

"Don't interrupt training." Azriel nodded in satisfaction. "And—"

The shadowsinger raised a brow. "There's an and?"

"And you eat pussy like a god," you stated matter-of-factly.

That earned you an amused smile. "Hear that, Cas? I think I might get a plaque made to put in my office."

Cassian only rolled his eyes. "She's only saying that because I haven't worked my magic yet." He brushed through your hair and kissed your temple. "I'll prove myself soon enough, but for now, you should get some rest pretty girl."

You nodded in agreement. "Cuddles?"

"Cuddles," Cassian confirmed.

After you cleaned up and dried off, you settled into bed. Sometimes the three of you slept in Cassian's room. Other times at Azriel's. But since your bed was the biggest, the three of you tended to prefer sleeping in your room most nights.

Your eyes felt heavy as Azriel snuggled behind you, smiling gently as Cassian tucked you underneath the blankets. You threw your leg over his, giggling as he complained about your cold feet.

"Shut up, you love it."

With the moonlight glistening against Cassian and Azriel's shirtless torsos as they snuggled up on either side, you couldn't help but feel like the luckiest female in the realm. The shadowsinger leaned over to kiss both of you good night.

“The next time you two conspire against me like that, I won’t be as nice. Do you understand?”

You and Cassian nodded, but the moment that Azriel looked away, you smirked at each other.

There would definitely be a next time.

You two never learned.

#i missed my bat boys #azriel smut #cassian smut #azriel fic #cassian fic #azriel x reader #cassian x reader #cassian x you #azriel x you

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tinycoffeeroom · 2 months

Text

lover boy | daniel ricciardo

face claim: none ♡

request: here !

pairing: daniel ricciardo x f!reader

requested: congrats on 1k!!!! can i order a macchiato with daniel where theyre like a little bit secret and they super joky with each other? maybe they decide to go official and kiss in front of fans?? 100 shots of fluff too please! thank u!!!

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

Private not secret. That’s how you could describe your relationship with Daniel to some extent. He would gush about his “loving girlfriend” in interviews and on social media but he’d never revealed who the girl who stole his heart was.

It worked for the both of you. He got to keep you all to himself, and you got to live some sense of normality outside of being flown all over the country to support him on race days.

The two of you were huddled in hospitality, enjoying the kiss of cold air the building provided against the blistering Bahrain heat. Clad in a VCARB shirt and linen trousers, any fan currently floating around the paddock would simply think you were an employee, and given how Daniel liked to make everyone around him laugh, seeing the two of you giggling in the corner wouldn’t raise too many questions.

Nudging you with his shoulder, he throws his head back in a loud laugh as you crack another terrible dad joke, your eyes unable to pull away from the length of his throat, the way his Adam's apple bobbed deeply with every guffaw.

“Why do I keep you around?” He speaks through ebbing chuckles, a hand hidden on the small of your back under the shirt.

Shrugging, you swipe your hair back playfully. “Because I’m smart, funny and have a great rack.”

You track Daniel’s eyes as they draw down to the V of your shirt. Since he had a few inches on you, he had an unobstructed view to what he crudely describes as his favourite stress relievers.

Glancing back up to meet your eyes, he grins at the way you jokingly raise an eyebrow at him. “You sure do, it’s a shame I haven’t seen them properly in so long.”

Rolling your eyes, you tap a finger under his chin, lifting his head from where it had dipped to glance down your shirt again. “You saw them this morning, drama queen.”

He presses a hand to his forehead, head rolling back as if he were a damsel in distress. “It’s been 84 years…”

Using your hand still in the air, you smack his hand off his forehead softly, scoffing lightheartedly. Hand darting out to capture yours, he pulls it down to where it’s hidden between the two of you, thumb stroking absentmindedly across the back of your hand.

“Give me a peek?”

Squeezing his hand, you glance left to right as if considering it. Fighting the smirk on your face as his eyes light up at the possibility. “Dan, I’m not getting my boobs out in the middle of hospitality. If you can wait until the hotel tonight however…”

Trailing off, you raise your other hand to rest gently against his chest, fingers tapping along to the thump of his heart underneath.

He groans, body twisting from side to side slightly like a child about to throw a tantrum. “Babe, it’s hot as balls out there. I’m gonna be so tired tonight.”

Patting his chest, you grin cheekily up at him. “So I’ll be doing all the work, like most race weekends.”

Gasping dramatically, he rests a hand over yours, pout on full display. “You wound me.”

Before you get a chance to rebut, one of the media managers pops her head around the corner, spotting the two of you. “Daniel, we have to be at the pre-race press conference in 20 minutes. Chop chop!”

She throws a friendly smile your way, head nodding once as a greeting. Waving back at her, your attention is dragged back to your boyfriend as he huffs softly, giving the woman a thumbs up as he drops his hand back to the small of your back to guide you to the entrance.

Before he steps outside, he turns to face you, lips puckered. Raising a hand, you pat his lips once, huffing as he tries to nip at one of your fingers. “Nuh-uh, big ol’ windows right there lover boy, anyone could see.”

He shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly, eyes wide and softly following the lines of your face. “Let them, I’m tired of hiding you.”

“Don’t use those cow eyes on me, that’s evil.” Sighing, you can’t stop your lips from matching his wide smile, the two of you locked in a silent conversation through eye contact.

It’s been a long 3 years, sneaking around, going outside for dates separately and hiding in the back corners of restaurants. Wearing whichever teams shirt he’s racing under to use as an excuse to be there. You think about how it could be, the way it would feel to hold his hand in the paddock and give him a good luck kiss before he goes off to race.

He sees right through you, able to read you like an open book. “So?”

Reaching behind you, you pull his hand from your back, linking your fingers together. “I’m tired of hiding too.” Heart racing at the way his smile turns fond, you pull yourself closer to him. “Need to let everyone know I bagged a hot Aussie.”

A voice calls from beside you. “Didn’t know you were dating Oscar?”

Looking across, a smirking Lando meets your eyes as he leans against the doorway, the door propped open behind him.

“Oh, ha ha. Very funny, short arse.” Daniel uses your linked hands to drag you next to him, hand leaving yours to smoothly slide along your back and rest on your hip. “What brings you to our humble abode?”

“I’m on the pre-race conference with you, thought we could walk down together.”

You coo at the pair, hands clasping in front of you. “Landan reunited, how cute!”

You can almost feel how hard Lando rolls his eyes, mimicking your words back to you in a high pitched tone. Swatting at his shoulder, he holds his hand up in surrender, backing out of the doorway.

“Daniel, 10 minutes! We’re gonna have to speedwalk!” The media manager breezes past the pair of you, clapping Daniel on the back as she passes.

You grab his collar, pulling him in to drop 3 kisses against his lips. Feeling his other hand come to rest on your hip, you smile against his lips. Pulling away minutely, you let your eyes roam over the way his have crinkled at the sides, bright grin on display for all to see. “Go, you’ve got business to do. I’m gonna go get a piece of that cheesecake we were eyeing in catering.”

His hands squeeze your hips gently before he pulls away fully, stepping through the open door to join Lando and the media manager.

Watching him leave, you laugh as he shoves Lando playfully, the two of them bickering as they walk down the paddock.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

The media manager is too engrossed in her phone to care what Daniel and Lando are talking about, the two of them discussing the upcoming race quietly.

“Oh yeah, look at you, all official and shit. Only took you 3 bloody years! Did nearly throw up at the three kisses thing though, a nod to your race number?”

Daniel hums, beaming as he thinks back to when you’d first started the official unofficial pre-race ritual.

[FLASHBACK]

It had been a hard 2021, filled with highs and lows in his papaya car. Just after missing out on points in Zandvoort, you had come to find him in his drivers room before Monza.

A long spiel of a pep talk later and a short pre-race nap later, he’d been about to leave, race suit hanging from his hips. Slipping your hands under his fireproofs, you leaned up, talking through kisses.

“You.” Kiss. “Got”. Kiss. “This.” Kiss.

On the final kiss, he’d grabbed your face, thumbs skimming across your cheeks, suspending you in that moment until the need to breathe outweighed his need to kiss you. Pulling away, he dropped a final kiss to the bridge of your nose, the smile you always loved to see plastered across his face.

“I love you.” At that point, you’d only been together a few months but it felt like the perfect moment. Watching as you grinned back at him, flushed cheeks hot under his hands, he was sure he’d gotten it right.

[FLASHBACK]

He shoves Lando jokingly as he points out the way he was flushed from his cheeks all the way down his neck. “Partially, and it’s also a way of saying I love you.”

Lando fake gags, narrowing his eyes at the lovesick expression on Daniel’s face. “I miss when you were single.”

Raising an eyebrow as he turns to face the younger man, his eyes flicker up briefly to make sure they were in the right spot for the conference. “Because I was lonely like you?”

Lando scoffs, opening the door for the media manager to step through, eyes still glued to her phone. “Rude. But yeah.”

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a/n: the first of the 1k celebrations and we're kicking it off with danny ric!! reqs for this event are open til july 18th so request while you can (or even after, my inbox is always open <3)

#daniel ricciardo x you #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo imagine #daniel ricciardo fanfic #tinycoffeeroom 1k celebration #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 fanfic

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queenofthekings · 3 months

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𝓢𝓽𝓲𝓵𝓵 𝓐𝓵𝓲𝓿𝓮

Summary: Your story of survival in New York, and the promise you made to Eric.

Author’s note: If I get anything wrong about New York, pls don't yell at me I'm just a Brit who's never been and is relying on the movie and my friends for help lmao. Special think you to @littlexdeaths for helping me with this, without you I probably wouldn't have gotten this finished. And if any of you see a reference to The Enemy, no you don't.

CW: 18+, fluff, descriptions of injuries, horror, spoilers for a quiet place day one.

Word count: 1.5k

Tagging: @espressomunson.

Any hate will not be tolerated, constructive criticism is welcomed.

You’d first met Eric in class, his accent being the first thing you noticed about him. Like him, you’d travelled far to attend law school in New York and both of you would talk frequently after classes about life back home and how different New York was compared to it.

The more you got to know each other, the more romance blossomed between you. He would always wait for you before class and go in with you, sitting beside you just so he could brush his fingers against your hand or whisper something funny into your ear to distract you.

You were expecting him to ask you out on a date, but then the world fell apart.

When it started, you were with a couple of your classmates, just laughing and joking around and then it stopped.

You barely had time to react before something akin to a bomb exploding just down the street caused everyone to start screaming and running all around you. Your lungs and eyes were burning from the smoke, and you could barely see but all you knew was that you needed to run. You had no idea where your friends were, but you hoped they were just hiding somewhere, and you’d see them soon as you darted into a bookstore.

With shaking hands, you got out your phone and dialled Eric’s number, silently praying he’d pick up only it went straight to voicemail. “Eric, it’s me. If you get this, stay where you are; I will come for you, okay? I will come find you. I’m so fucking scared right now, but I hope you’re still out there and you’re safe.”

You wanted to tell him you loved him, but you were too scared to, what if he didn’t feel the same way? God, feelings were hard when the world was ending.

You ended the call and looked around you, trying to find anything of value, picking up a map and a small nightlight you could use as a torch. You weren’t entirely sure where you could go but staying where you were clearly wasn’t an option. Shoving your things into your backpack, you hesitantly walked back out onto the now quiet street, trying your best not to walk on any broken glass or rubble.

Tears began running down your cheeks as you walked, but you didn’t bother wiping them away. You had to come to terms with the idea that you were the only one left; your friends were gone and so was Eric, even if that thought killed you.

As you walked, you wished you could listen to your music to drown out the silence with the occasional bursts of screaming but you knew it was too dangerous, you had to be alert at all times.

As night started to fall, it began pouring with rain and even through your hooded jacket, you were soaked through. You ran towards some shelter as fast as you could, you ended up finding an abandoned church and slipped inside the door as quietly as you could.

Being careful to avoid the puddle from the hole in the roof and the massive hole in the floor, you made your way to one of the pews and finally rested.

Sleep didn’t come easy for you that night, but you managed to get maybe a couple of hours, better than nothing, you supposed.

In the morning, you looked over your map to find the best route to South Street. It wasn’t going to be easy, but you knew it had to be done, even with the number of blisters you’d gotten on your feet from walking so much the day before.

Sliding off your shoes, you assessed the damage and wondered if you should trek out to find a pharmacy to get some band aids but just as you were about to put your shoes back on, you heard a commotion from the hole in the floor, with two people climbing out of it.

You froze as you slowly made your way over towards them, your heart pounding in your ears as you saw Eric. You couldn’t quite believe your eyes as you got down onto your knees next to Eric’s head, a shaky hand on his shoulder.

His eyes opened and instantly locked with yours, slowly getting up to embrace you, even if he was soaking wet. You tried your best not to cry but after everything you’d both been through, you couldn’t hold your emotions back and neither could he; you both held each other and cried quietly.

Eric refused to let you go, and you refused to let him go – even for a second. You slept together wrapped up in each other’s arms that night, finally getting some decent sleep at last.

In the morning, you could tell Sam wasn’t doing well and both you and Eric offered to go get her medication, Eric refusing to let you go. Reluctantly, you allowed him to go but not without giving him a kiss on his cheek, a silent promise that you’d see each other again.

You stayed with Sam, initially playing tic-tac-toe together but eventually getting to talk about each other’s lives before everything went down. Went to school together, had a massive crush on him you wrote on the notebook, causing both of you to laugh silently.

“He talked about you a couple times,” Sam whispered. “Always wanted to find you, now it makes sense why.”

You weren’t entirely sure what that meant, but in your heart you hoped it meant that he felt the same way about you. You kicked yourself for letting him go with just a kiss on the cheek and not a proper love confession, just more reasons to make sure he came back safely with Frodo in tow.

The four of you stayed in the church until the next morning, deciding to venture out to find Patsy’s. You and Eric never let go of each other’s hands, not for a single second.

But when you were out in the open, you’d knocked over an abandoned suitcase, the sound echoing throughout the silent streets. All four of you froze for a moment, before you knew you had to lead the monsters away to give Eric and Sam a chance.

Pressing a kiss to Eric’s lips, you pushed him away and sprinted away in another direction, screaming as much as you could to draw them towards you. It didn’t even fully occur to you that you could die in the process, but as long as Sam, Frodo and Eric made it out, that’s all you cared about.

That was the last time Eric saw you, saving his life. And all he could think about in that moment was how much time he’d wasted not telling you how he felt. And now, you were gone.

By the time Eric got onto the final boat with Frodo, he finally allowed himself to cry, to mourn over the loss of both you and Sam. At least he still had Frodo to comfort him, he closed his eyes and just stopped to listen to the purring cat in his arms until it jumped out of them. His eyes opened instantly, feeling himself on the verge of a panic attack as he looked around for that black and white cat.

Until he saw him at someone’s feet, his eyes filled with tears, clouding his vision but he could tell the person was walking towards him. Wiping away his tears, he got a good look at the person. He blinked several times, not quite believing his eyes.

It was you.

Battered and bruised, a long cut down the left side of your face, but still you.

You smiled once Eric noticed you, the cut across your face contorting a little so it almost looked like a half grimace. You took a seat next to him, handing back Frodo. “Hi,” you said, your voice a little croaky after not being used in what seemed like forever.

“Hey,” he said back, his voice just as croaky. “I thought I’d lost you, too.”

You shook your head, petting Frodo. “I was almost a goner,” you pointed to your face. “But I got saved at the last second, I don’t even remember by who. I thought I’d died, but my face hurt too much. Couldn’t even see out of my left eye at first, but I knew I had to get to here.”

“You still look beautiful,” he moved a stray hair away from your face, not even flinching like most people did at seeing your cut.

You pulled a face, letting out a small hiss in pain as you forgot the cut for a moment before you rested your head on his shoulder. “So what happens now?”

Eric sighed, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “I don’t know, but one thing I know for sure; I’m not letting you out of my sight.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head once again. “Don’t you worry, I’m not going anywhere. I’ve got all I want right here; I have you and we have Frodo.”

“Good. Even then, I’ll follow you wherever you wanna go,” he whispered, capturing your lips with his in a gentle kiss.

#spilled ink #a quiet place day one #joseph quinn #joseph quinn x reader #eric x reader #joseph quinn fanfic #joseph quinn fanfiction

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belokhvostikova · 1 year

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𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐘𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐤: 𝐂𝐥𝐮𝐛 𝐏𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐬

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 | An apology is definitely at hand, and Eddie cements it when he drunkenly appears at your house despite your clear disdain.

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | Swearing, yelling, crying, descriptions of depression, self-deprecating thoughts, alcohol consumption, driving while intoxicated, mentions of neglectful parents, mentions of childhood abuse, mentions of domestic abuse, brief allusions to eating disorders, and brief mentions of predatory behavior.

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞 | So sorry for the confusion, I was simply updating the color scheme of this chapter when an error was found in my tag list, which I had to edit. I had to remove the tag list, but everyone who was already in the list or asked to be will still continue to be tagged as new chapters are released.

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 | One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six.

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐈𝐈𝐈. 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐘𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐤: 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐩𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭

You stayed in your bedroom. Not studying. Not reading. Not eating. Barely even moving. The concavity of teals and pastels with trinkets and knick-knacks that constituted the room you found solace in for the last twelve years of your life had swallowed you whole. The bookcase. The vanity. The dying plants begging for life in a personified reflection to your state. Your knees. Your fingers. Your sullen face in the smudged mirror. You listened to the sounds around you. The cars. The birds. The buzzing bees of the blistering spring. So lively, not you. Your father, the whirring indication of the coffee machine that kept him alive, the clearing of his throat, and the crinkle of his newspaper, as if he didn’t proclaim the nastiest words of failure and disappointment against the child he fathered neglectfully. But you had everything—food, a roof, money—who were you to complain, right? Your bladder is full, it hurts, yet you don’t dare to move. You suck in a breath, forgetting to do so innately. Everything has become manual. Your breathing, your thinking, your will.

You’re eighteen, a senior in high school, and you want to go to college. Which one? The farthest one. You’re merely a girl, a teenage girl, a teenage girl deemed a slut because you were nice to a boy. Nothing more, nothing less. Until the next day, where you would be deduced to a whore, because that was the inevitable step for a teenage girl who was nice to a boy. And that’s all you think of. All you repeat. Because you don’t want to remember more. You just want to wait. For what? You don’t know. So you think, you sit, and you wait. Just waiting until there’s nothing more to wait for.

Maybe when you learn to let go, you’ll finally be free.

Perhaps it was the jocular facet of Wayne Munson’s personality that humored the struggling reality of his life, or maybe it was as superficial as he liked to quip an occasional joke here or there, either way, the same teasing line declaring his rambunctious nephew to be the cause of his exceeding aging—the one that always got a good chuckle out of his buddies while sharing a beer or a shy giggle from the tired waitress who worked the overnight shift just to serve him his coffee in the early hours of the morning—was vastly proving to be a coping mechanism, because Wayne Munson swore he could feel a new wrinkle brandishing his forehead as his nephew was on the verge of getting suspended… and failing… and arrested.

Eddie Munson truly did age the poor man into oblivion.

“…Twenty-two tardies, fourteen absences, thirteen detentions…”

Wayne briefly freed the indented grays of his head from one of his many beloved trucker hats before securing it back on. His calloused fingers splayed against his stressed eyebrows at an attempt to alleviate the impending pain with a heavy sigh. It was midday. He should be resting for his coming shift at the plant. But here he was, having a parent meeting with the principal for his twenty-year-old boy.

“…Persistent insubordination, frequent public outbursts, and repeated offense of inappropriate comments made against staff…”

That one made Eddie giggle. Oh, Mrs. O’Donell.

“Okay, okay,” Wayne politely interjected with a tight-lipped smile, “I think I get the picture here.”

Principal Higgins scoffed incredulously, as he dropped the particularly heavy file of Eddie’s extensive high school record. “Respectfully, I don’t think you do, sir.” Eddie rolled his eyes, as he apathetically slumped in the chair. “Your nephew has been tormenting the sanctity of my establishment for six years, six years, sir, and he’s in for a seventh after assaulting a fellow student on school grounds!”

“Oh, please, Carver deserved it-”

“Ed.” Wayne gritted with sternness.

“Mr. Munson, I specifically warned you of the potential consequences of another detention or suspension, and you went ahead and disobeyed my word! Now, charges are being threatened! This is monstrous! Vile, even! Blasphemous-”

“I told you, that jockstrap deserved it!” Eddie sat up to defend his stance, blatantly ignoring his uncle's plea to calm down. “Why aren’t you getting him in trouble, huh?! He’s the one that started all this shit! Going around and spreading lies about Y/N!”

And maybe this is when Eddie should have shut up, because the way Principal Higgins eyes bulged at the revelation honestly kinda freaked Eddie out a bit.

“Ms. Y/L/N?!” Higgins spit odiously. “This is about Ms. Y/L/N?!”

Wayne blinked between both men. “Who’s Y/N Y/L/N?”

The poor man’s presence had long been disregarded. Once again, this had been extrapolated into a battle between Higgins and Munson, a long six year war that seemed to have no ending. And you, well, you fell victim in the crossfire, left unaided, to die, vulnerable to the vultures of Hawkins High that got to pick you apart free of consequences. Because that was human nature for a small town that capitalized the American Dream with infiltrations of conservatism and conformity for the need to prioritize normalcy. And Eddie Munson was not normal, therefore you were not normal. Because you took his fucking picture.

“In my years of administration, I have never, and I mean never, have had this much havoc from two students!” It became quite astounding how much a single vein could protrude from a reddening forehead of a forty-seven-year-old man.

“This isn’t her fault!” Eddie burdened to emphasize. “Why are you always blaming her?! You used to love parading her achievements around as if they were yours, and now that she’s friends with me,” you weren’t friends with him, “you suddenly got your little feelings hurt?! You’re unbelievable!” Eddie sneered with a heavy breath and condescending laugh.

Now, Higgins had been far too familiar with Eddie’s bite, but the abrupt revelation had the man searching for words that would excuse his exaggerating behavior. “I-I, uh, well, I… t-this- this isn’t about Ms. Y/L/N, this is about you, Mr. Munson, and what you did!”

Wayne had reached his wits end, “Alright, alr-”

“What? Rightfully put Carver in his place? Yeah, I did-”

“Alright.” Wayne’s jaw was heavy with tension as a stern scrape of his teeth was gritted to end the commotion. “Look, I truly do not have the time to be doin’ this, so we’re gonna run this quickly.” He sighed with a hand massaging his stubble. “I’ll have Ed apologize.”

Eddie made his annoyance evident with a loud groan and scoff, as he waved his uncle off.

“But,” Wayne interjected, knowing his nephew would spew out more words that would worsen his consequence, “you said it yourself, sir, that Ed’s been “disrupting” your school for a couple years now, so I don’t think another repeated year would do anyone any good. Right?”

“I- I… well, I, uh, I suppose so…” Higgins mumbled.

“Perfect.” Wayne perched out of his chair with a groan from his aching back. “I think a… sincere, heartfelt apology will teach my boy a valuable lesson here.” He patted Eddie on the shoulder before yanking on his denim vest to pull him from his seat. “So, no detention, no suspension, that way Ed will get to graduate, he’ll be out of your hair, and all’s good in life.”

“I, well, I think we’re being a little too lenient-”

Wayne shoved his working hand in front of Higgins. “I appreciate your understanding, and I’m glad we were able to come to a consensus.” Dumbfoundedly, Higgins shook the man’s hand trying to process everything. “Now, I’ll get in touch with the other boy’s parents, hopefully talk them out of charges, and Ed and I will have a long talk as to why we shouldn’t hit people. Right, Ed?”

“U-um, uh, yeah- yes, sir, I’m so sorry.” Eddie nodded, faux guilt casting his face, as he pressed his lips in and threw his round eyes of disappointment to the ground.

“Well, then” Wayne sighed, “I better get going, sleep’s not gonna catch itself.”

“Mr. Munson, uh, sir-”

“Again, thank you for understanding.” Wayne shoved Eddie past the office door, before sending a polite wave to Higgins, left speechless and open-mouthed, yet no protest could be formulated, as the Munson men were out quick with a slam to the door.

Upon reaching the empty halls of the school, Wayne wondered how ethical it would be to lean against the cold, metal lockers and light a cigarette, because he had no willpower to wait until he was outside. Wayne Munson loved Eddie, he truly did. It may not have been affectionately shown for the majority of his guardianship, but it was there; through every cracked joke, every greasy late-night dinner shared, and every moment when he would miss work, because Eddie always waited last minute to finish the algebra homework that he knew he struggled with, and Wayne was there to help.

But parenthood, itself, was a troubling journey, and when abruptly placed onto a man who had no desire to ever have kids of his own, it became devastatingly unfathomable. It became worse when the kid in question knew nothing but abuse, no hugs no kisses, simply fists and swears to condition his mind with the wrongful notions as to how to express his emotions. It was grueling.

Wayne cleared his throat. “Ed.”

“I know, I know,” Eddie was quick to explain, “but I swear, it really wasn’t my fault.” His eyes pleaded to avoid the wave of disappointment he knew he brought to everyone in Hawkins.

“Boy, if this Carver kid and that girl, Y/N, are giving you trouble-”

“No, no, she’s not!” Eddie swallowed the lump in his throat, and huffed. “I-I mean, he is, yeah, but it’s nothing I’m not used to, so it doesn’t matter. But her, she, uh, she didn’t- I, fuck, look this is all stupid! He’s stupid, she’s stupid- I, no, she’s not stupid-”

“Eddie.” Wayne was seeing the younger boy Eddie had once been. Struggling with emotions, struggling with words, unable to process and formulate because he was scared.

“She fucking hates me, alright!” Eddie heaved. “All of this is stupid, and it doesn’t matter, because she fucking hates me! And I can’t even blame her, because I’m an awful fucking person!”

“You’re not awful-”

“I am!’ Eddie sighed to catch his breath. “C’mon, Wayne, you know I am. I nearly fucking failed for the third time in a row, because I have no self-control and apparently no fucking emotional intelligence, and now I may end up getting arrested in the middle of the fucking school day. And she fucking hates me, Wayne, she hates me!”

The quietness of the hall became deafening after Eddie’s tangent. He knew his uncle didn’t understand half of what he just uttered, but it sure as hell felt good getting it off his chest. And by now, a cigarette was looking real good to the older gentleman.

“I- shit, I’m sorry, just forget all of that.” Eddie groaned, a tense hand running through his tangled hair.

“No, no,” Wayne shook his head, “say what you need to say. It’ll do you some good.”

Eddie suspired. “Look, Jason was saying some really gross shit about Y/N that wasn’t true, and the only reason why they said all that shit was because she added me- uh, Hellfire to the yearbook.” Wayne raised an eyebrow. “I know, don’t give me that look, like I said, this is all fucking stupid. Anyways, I felt bad, he was literally causing a scene in the middle of lunch, and well, I punched him-”

“Well, see, you’re not an awful person.” Wayne pointed.

“You didn’t let me finish.” Eddie, now highlighted with genuine guilt, casted down to the floor. “When she first took our picture, I kinda yelled at her, because I thought she was just being some two-faced cheerleader, which she wasn’t, but, uh, after the whole cafeteria scene, well, she told me to just leave her alone, and um, I got defensive and called her… a sl- look, I just really fucked up, alright.”

Wayne puffed out a big breath of air. “Okay.” He really didn’t remember high school being this cursory, granted it was over thirty years ago for him. “Uh, well, did you at least apologize to her?” He truly didn’t know how else to approach this problem.

“Well, no, she got suspended yesterday because of the whole yearbook thing. Highly doubt I’ll get a chance.”

“Well, make a chance.” Wayne waved off simply.

“What?”

“You care that much about what she thinks of you, make the chance happen. Don’t just sit around, do something. And if you really don’t care, then just let it go and focus on graduating and not getting in trouble.” Wayne pulled out his pack of Camels. “Either way, I need sleep and you need to get to class.”

“It’s lunch time.”

“Then eat.” Wayne sighed, as he began walking away. “Just stay out of trouble, because there’s only so many free car repairs I’m willing to offer in order to keep your ass out of jail, boy.”

“Yeah, yeah, sorry.”

“I can’t believe this! I totally don’t look like this!” Dustin shrieked. “This is a terrible angle! And I specifically told the guy to get my good side!”

Mike laughed with a mouth full of greasy pizza. “You look like the orcs from our campaign.”

“Who looks like the orcs from our campaign?” Eddie announced his arrival, as he took a seat at the head of the table.

“Dustin!” Gareth guffawed.

“But, hey, if you really wanna feel better, take a look at Stanley Godwin who literally sneezed in the middle of his picture.” Jeff stole the yearbook from Dustin’s grabby hands. “Poor kid and his sinuses.”

But before Jeff could thumb through to find the sneezing sophomore, Eddie had forcefully yanked the brand new book from his friend. “Where the hell did you get this?!”

“I bought it.” Dustin answered. “The Yearbook Committee is already selling them. But, if you want my advice, don’t bother asking Nancy for a family discount.”

“You’re not family.” Mike sneered with a playful shove.

And in true Dustin Henderson fashion, the boy audibly gasped. “Have the last ten years meant nothing to you?”

“Is our picture still in here?” Eddie interrupted.

“Yup!” Gareth smirked. “Front and center.”

Eddie flipped through the extracurriculars, filtering through the numerous clubs before his eyes bestowed upon their photo. There they were. All of them. Their faces and names representing the Hellfire title.

“Hey, how’d the meeting with Higgins go?” Jeff snapped Eddie’s attention. “Your uncle dish one out to ya?”

“Uh, no, actually.” Eddie signed. “Got let off the hook.”

“Wait, Higgins isn’t suspending you?” Mike questioned, and Eddie merely shook his head in confirmation.

“Wow, you’d think punching his precious star athlete would get you expelled.” Dustin laughed. “I mean, even Y/N got suspended for something less. Wish she was here, so I could thank her for the photo.”

Your name had sparked something within Eddie. He quickly turned the pages to reach the senior class of 1986, and flipped until he found your face. Your fucking beautiful face. So pretty and proper, dressed in your best clothing, pearls shining around your neck, eyes glinting with perfection. You were perfect. Perfect. Down to the last minute detail. Your teeth, your lips, your skin.

Make a chance.

Eddie tore the page with much fervor in mind.

“Hey, what the hell?!” Dustin whined. “That cost me forty-five bucks!”

“Sorry, kid.” Eddie muttered, as he stood from his chair, stuffing the torn page into the leather pocket of his worn jacket.

“Where are you going?” Jeff catechized. “We’re in the middle of lunch.”

“To find Chrissy Cunningham.”

Chrissy Cunningham was a lot harder to find than Eddie had expected. She had been in the same lunch period with him for the entirety of the semester, but the one instance he actually needed to speak to her, she wasn’t sitting with the gaggle of cheerleaders and jocks that claimed the best seats in the lunchroom. The girls’ bathroom had been his best option, now he obviously didn’t enter, but after he begrudgingly called out her name through the doorway, he felt like a creep and left rather quickly. The gym was his backup, but after peering through the small windows of the double doors, all he saw was Coach Monaghan loudly instructing scrawny freshmen through enervating suicide drills for the sake of physical education. And the health room was no luck, as the guidance counselor was enforcing teaching the importance of abstinence to a group of girls—only girls—for the sake of sexual education. More like purity culture. Eddie was running out of luck. His watch indicated the mere five minutes he had left before he’d be obligated to endure Mrs. O’Donell. But, by the grace of whatever god may or may not be out there, Eddie caught sight of the strawberry blonde sitting alone upon the writhing wood of an old picnic table just outside of the cafeteria. He walked all around, just for her to be a couple yards from where he originally was. Sometimes Eddie could only scoff at himself.

Appearing to be caught up in her own world, Eddie’s heavy footsteps went unnoticed, until he materialized into her peripheral, a startled shriek making him surrender with hands up in the air.

“Woah, hey, sorry.” He raucously chuckled, looking around to make sure no one could fabricate some false story of harassment against a cheerleader. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

But his words brought no ease to her- clearly, it was just yesterday she was cleaning up her boyfriend’s lip, because of Eddie. “I, uh, I- well, if it’s alright with you, I, um, liked to talk- well, ask you for something.” He softly assured, as she eyed him timidly.

“Um, a-about what?” Her voice could barely be picked up by the breeze of the afternoon.

Eddie took it as an invitation to sit down across from her with a tight-lipped smile. It was awkward. He took notice of her uneaten lunch, merely picked apart but not savored—well, as savored as school lunch could be. “So, uh, what brings you out here?” Perhaps an attempt at conversation with someone he never even spoke to was too bad of an idea, but he simply chose the politeness path, as he ask was pretty hefty. “Finally got tired of Jessica’s big mouth?” He laughed.

Chrissy didn’t. Jessica had made a comment, one that sounded too much like her mother’s own words.

So when Chrissy sadly shrugged, he dropped the small talk and diverted the conversation.

“Okay, look, I’m just gonna be up front.” Eddie sighed. “I need you to give me Y/N’s phone number and address.”

Her thinly groomed eyebrows creased her forehead in confusion. “Um, what?”

“Look, it’s a simple ask, alright, I just need her phone number and address.”

“No, I hear you, Eddie, I just- well, I just don’t know if she would want me to-”

“No, and I understand that, I just really need to talk to her.” Eddie pleaded. “And obviously I can’t do that at school.” Chrissy stayed quiet with contemplation. “C’mon, you guys are friends- or were friends, right? I really just want to make it up to her after all the bullshit she’s been through. Us being partially at fault because of it, y’know.”

Chrissy’s guilty round eyes met his. “I just don’t want her to hate me more.” she whispered.

Eddie’s mouth fell slightly agape, not knowing how to comfort. See, lying and saying all was good and merry between you and Chrissy in order to get what he wanted would have been his first solution—the asshole way of thinking. But being that Eddie being an asshole was the start of all your misery in the first place, he fought the urge to choose the easy way out and rubbed his face with agony.

“Yeah, no, I, uh, get it.” He huffed. “And if it’s any consolation, she fucking hates me, too. Probably more than she hates you.” He smiled. And luckily, a sadden smile curled her lips, which was a start. “And I mean, rightfully so, we were jackasses to her.” He laughed.

“I should have stuck up for her.” Chrissy sighed. “She always has for me. I mean, she’s been my best friend for four years. But Jason, he just gets so far into this idea of what people will say and think, and he doesn’t want me or him hurting from others' judgment.”

“So you judged her instead?” He couldn’t really be one to speak on the morals of virtue, as he judged, too.

“I know, it’s so stupid.” She dropped her head into her palms with shame. “And I’m not trying to excuse it, I just want her to know I’m so sorry, but I haven’t had the courage to tell her.” She groaned. “Plus, her dad is really strict and really hard on her to be so successful, that I doubt he’ll want me over after she got suspended.”

Chrissy drowned with dejection. Four years of the purest bond between young girls had been cemented into a cascade of hateful rumors and a lack of clear discernment that severed their loving connection that persevered them through the pinnacle of teenage years. As naive fourteen-year-olds, you both had stolen the locked up booze from your father’s office, and cheered one another on as you took a sip, to ensure you both appeared to know what you were doing when you arrived to Bradly Leminski’s party. Turns out, you both had accidentally drank too much in the comfort of your bedroom and missed out. You’d even watched giddily, as Jason Carver asked Chrissy out, after you ran him through the basis of what she loves, because he was determined to get her on a date. But through the woes of boys and high school parties, you’d both been there for one another through the deepest of tribulations, like when Chrissy called you bawling, because her mother’s words manipulated the way she saw herself in the beautiful dress she’d been so excited to wear for the winter formal. Or when she held you tightly after saving you from the harsh grasp of a senior, Jimmy Saunters, who forcefully shoved multiple shots of tequila down your throat, and attempted to drag you into his friend’s bedroom when you were merely a baby freshman.

Her comfort had saved you, just as yours did to her.

“Well, I mean, you can’t just not try.” Eddie reasoned. “Look, I fucking hate that she hates me, and I want to at least try to apologize to her, too, which is why I at least need her number and address, please. I’m sure she’d love to hear from you, too, whenever you get the chance.”

The school bell that Eddie had been all too familiar with screeched for the coming of class, and he jumped in hurry. “C’mon, Chrissy, please, you gotta help me out here.” The desperation became palpable. Chrissy turned and watched numerous students flood into the halls through the glass doors of the building. Caving in quickly, she rummaged through her backpack for a pink pen she’d nearly worn through after the excessive notes from her third period. But she simply grabbed Eddie’s jacket sleeve, and utilized the back of his veiny hand as a canvas for her information.

He’d ache his neck with a contorted twist of his head to watch the fading ink print what he wanted. A seven digit number lined the back of his hands, a small smile consuming his face, but then Chrissy started capping her pen away. “W-wait, uh, her address, too.”

“Um…”

“Please, I swear, if she asks, I won’t say it was you.” Eddie rushed.

Chrissy sighed, before quickly scribbling the number and street name of your home. Eddie cursed under his breath. “Christ, Pinecrest Acres? I got hired to mow some dude’s lawn in that neighborhood one summer, and some prick called the cops on me for trespassing.” He scoffed, and poor Chrissy didn’t know how to respond at the irrelevance of his news besides with an awkward chuckle. “But, anyways, thank you. I’ll, uh, leave you to it.” Eddie saluted, as he headed towards the door.

But then he abruptly turned. “Wait! Uh, tell your boyfriend I’m sorry for the, uh, whole, y’know…” And Eddie laughed, as he mimicked the shocking punch that loosened Jason Carver’s front teeth.

The entire reason why he hadn’t showed up to school that day.

“Um, don’t you want to tell him yourself?” Chrissy sweetly proffered. “I’m sure it’ll mean more.”

Eddie could roll his eyes. It was Jason Carver. Nothing Eddie did could mean shit to him.

He winced with a hiss. “Yeah, see, I totally would,” no, he wouldn’t, “but since he’s not here, and you’re the next best thing, I trust that you’ll pass on the message for me.” He smiled so sickly, Chrissy couldn’t see the drenching lies of his words.

“Oh, okay.” She agreed.

“Oh!” Eddie perked. “If Higgin’s asks, I totally did apologize to Carver, okay?” Well, maybe there was still a little asshole left in Eddie, but at least he wasn’t actively hurting anyone. Yet.

“Uh, o-okay.” She hesitantly smiled.

“Thanks, Chrissy.” He lifted his balled fist to bump with hers. It was telling of the fact that Eddie Munson had little interactions with girls his own age- or any girls for that matter. But she hesitantly bumped him back, nonetheless. “Y’know, you’re a really cool person, you should get better friends.” He affirmed, before waving a goodbye.

“Th-thanks.” She meekly watched him enter the school building.

While uncomfortable at first, the overall start of the budding friendship between Chrissy Cunningham and Eddie Munson was one to look forward to. While they evidently had nothing in common, it was quite comical actually, they could find reassurance in one another that improvements needed to be made within themselves in order to speak to the one person they both genuinely cared for. You. They at least had that in common. And luckily for Eddie, in six hours, Chrissy Cunningham would confide to Jason Carver to drop any potential charges, and he would listen, because he loved her.

“Fuck.” Eddie mumbled under his breath. He shook the nerves from his hands, and rolled his neck in preparation. “C’mon, you can do this.”

“So, uh,” Wayne snapped Eddie’s attention. His uncle was staring at him circumspectly, as he shrugged on his jacket, “you preparin’ for a marathon, or somethin’?”

“What?” Eddie blinked through his messy bangs. “No, I’m about to make a phone call.”

“Right.” Wayne cleared his throat, studying the newfound nervousness of his nephew’s demeanor, which he hadn’t seen in- well, ever. “Ima head out to work, see ya tomorrow morning.” It was clear Eddie was waiting for his uncle to leave, as Wayne caught sight of how quickly Eddie grabbed the handle of the phone as Wayne, himself, grabbed the doorknob. “Is this about that Y/N girl?”

Eddie’s shoulder’s dropped. “Shouldn’t you be heading off to work by now?”

“Alright, alright,” Wayne mumbled, “just askin’. Be sure to eat dinner.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“I mean it, Ed. Eat.”

Eddie, in fact, did not eat.

In order to not succumb to the nauseating feeling that was churning in the pit of his tummy, he came to the concurrence that a cold beer would extenuate the ferment that made his heart skip a beat every ten seconds. Now, in typical sense, Eddie had consumed enough beer in his lifetime, that a single one shouldn’t have affected him to the extent at which this one did. But see, Eddie didn’t listen to the wise words of Wayne Munson, and his gurgling, empty stomach rocked him to the edge of tipsiness far quicker than he was used to.

And before he knew it, his cold fingertips were jamming the buttons to the sequence of Chrissy’s faded pink handwriting, and soon it began ringing- shit, the phone was ringing! Eddie began panicking in place, wavering between hanging up and bringing the phone back to his ear. He hadn’t even planned out what he would say to you. Well, he technically did, it was all that he could think about for the entire day, but each idea seemed unworthy to the standards you deserved, so he’d move on to the next thought, but then suddenly every thought was determined unfit by Eddie. Should he apologize? Fuck, of course, he should apologize, but for what first? Calling you a miserable bitch? An attention-seeking slut? Making a scene in the cafeteria? Yelling in your face? Making you cry? Jesus Christ, thinking it out loud, why on Earth would you ever accept his apology?! He should just hang up before it’s too late-

“Hello?”

Eddie Munson’s knees buckled.

He carelessly gripped the edge of his wooden table, and slowly steadied himself into the chair below. He should speak, but no words were coming out. His knuckle flew into his mouth, where his teeth brandished the tender skin with harsh indents. It was painful, but he couldn’t stop.

You spoke so featherly soft, too delicate for his usual orotund tone. The one he’d use to berate you. “Um, hello?”

“H-Hi…” He pierced out, immediately cringing at the sudden loudness he uncontrollably spoke in. “It’s, uh- well, it’s me, um… Eddie.”

It was dead quiet for what felt like an eternity.

No word, no squeak, no air. You were obviously holding your breath, and the mere thought was tearing at Eddie’s heart. “Please.” It came out so weak. “Please, Eddie, I don’t wanna start anything.”

His stomach dropped, and his hands shook with how scared you sounded. You were scared of him. In the couple of instances he interacted with you, he scared you. Because to you, he brought harm. It may not have been physical, but it was detrimental, nonetheless. And you were scared. He was becoming the sole person he did not want to become, because he knew what it was like to be scared.

“No, no, sweetheart,” he let out a shaky sigh, “I’m not gonna do anything. I promise.” He wanted to profusely vomit. It was the same words his dad had uttered to his bruised mom in order to sweet talk her out of leaving.

“I told you to leave me alone, Eddie.” You choked quietly. It was dinner. Your father was downstairs enjoying his takeout. Not yours. He stopped caring to ask the minute you refused to leave your bedroom. “I don’t even care how you got my number, but I need you to not call-”

“No, I know, sweetheart, but I really just need to talk to you.” His knuckles were casting white upon the tight grip he clutched the phone, as his lips brushed the bottom speaker in whispers. His other hand began insistently picking at the old wood of the kitchen table. Wayne would have a word with him about that. “I- what I did, I really need to tell that I’m sorry, because I truly am sor-”

“Eddie,” You gently interrupted, no energy to scream at him like your mind was begging you to do, “I don’t want your apology.” You sniffled. “If it really meant that much to you, you would have never done it to begin with, because I- I would have never done this to you. I would have never done this to you.”

His eyes clenched shut to mitigate the profound stinging of his eyes from the welling of tears his heart was urging to spill for you. He knew the probability of you accepting his apology was low, but his mother always seemed to accept his father’s after he sweet talked his way out of a domestic abuse charge. This is what was supposed to happen, right? You should be loving his words and running to forgive him, right? It was what he saw. It was what he experienced. It was what he was conditioned to believe. But you weren’t his mother. And he’d desperately do anything to not be his father. Yet everyday, the image in the mirror was sneering back that sickening smile that destroyed Eddie’s childhood. So you weren’t going to run in his arms. You were going to stand your ground, just like he wished his mother had done to his father.

“Please, sweetheart.” A gritted through his tense jaw, as a tear stained his reddening cheek. “Please.”

“I don’t want anything to do with you, Eddie.” There was no admonish to your words, in fact, you were so demure, holding back tears of your own, because he knew the ugly truth that you were well aware of the fact that if you screamed, he’d scream. And you’d, once again, be scared. “Just let me be, please. I don’t want you near me.”

The buzzing of the cutting line shot his bullet in his heart.

Your voice was gone, and yet, the phone stayed glued to his ear in hopes that he was just imagining it all. You didn’t hang up. You were still on the line. You would take back your words. You would accept his apology. But your euphonious voice never appeared again, and Eddie aggressively slammed the phone back on the hook with a grunt of frustration. The heel of his palms stabbed into his weeping eyes, as his shoulders assertively shook with every choke of his tightening breath. Rejection, heartache, vexation, and patheticism rampaged his mind from any calamity, and before he knew it, the characteristics he so badly hated about himself were being proffered up to the surface of his being.

In truth, this was the scary aspect of Eddie Munson that resembled the harm he was verbally and physically ingrained with as a tragic child who knew of no hope. All rationale was gone, and wrongful devotion rooted in his deepest fear of being neglected with disregard had overtook his judgment. Standing with all fury, his finger’s strained through the excessive flexing of joints before his balled fist broke through the drywall of his trailer. His knuckles split with blood, but it felt deserving to him. Who was Eddie Munson without the infliction of pain? Absolutely nobody, he affirmed in his mind. He was meant to suffer.

Chest heaving, beads of sweat pebbled his forehead, and the fridge door broke open. His truculent, battered hand grappled onto the torn yokes of the remaining three beers, hauling them, as his other hand reached for the keys to his van.

Eddie Munson was about to cause more harm.

“Please, jus hol’ on f’me…” His drenched lips slurred with beer, as his hand crushed the empty can he haphazardly threw into the passenger seat, where his growing collection stacked.

In the grand scheme of things, Eddie knew he was attesting to the predisposition of his role in this town, but he couldn’t help it. A lowlife, criminal, an irascible danger to society. Would you actually accept him? No, you wouldn’t. And he wouldn’t blame you. But he couldn’t stand the pre-conceived notion he’d confirmed about himself to you, and he was in desperation to speak to you. Unfortunately, Eddie had panicked, and this was happening in the ugliest, most horrifying and sinister state he’d ever been in. And you would see it all.

As lucky as one can be under the influence while driving, the cracked roads had fortunately been desolate, as nuclear families gathered around their pristine tables to lavish in the draining emotional labor of home cooked meals by their underappreciated wives. He rejected all red lights and street signs, stampeding through neighborhoods, drifting past turns, and steadily accelerating until he’d approached the spotlighted sign of Pinecrest Acres. The affluence—actually the beer and sharp curves—made his stomach turn in disgust. The aristocrats of Hawkins housed together, where they frolicked with no worries in the prolific assortment of two-stories, pool houses, parterres, and vintage cars, all while the struggling families of Forest Hills had to huddle with worn blankets to survive the blistering winters of Indiana. Ronald Reagan’s conservatism sure had an ascendancy on this place. He came to an abrupt stop after his headlights reflected the engraved 630 of your mailbox. “6… 3… 0 Pinecrest fucking Acres.” He mumbled.

His tire ran over the curb of your street before he pulled the keys from the ignition. For a second, he stopped. His breathing was becoming suffocating, as his chest fervently raised with each depth of an inhale. His hand found the door handle faster than his mind could process, and soon he was stumbling on inebriated legs to the front lawn of your house. Honestly, if your dad had found him, he would have shot him, but the man had driven himself into bed after downing the entirety of his rum.

Eddie’s eyes scaled the height of the house. “Fuck me.” Maybe he shouldn’t have chugged four beers. He cleared his throat. His joints echoed in a rhythmic sequence of pops, as he pressed and twisted his fingers to loosen up. A guttural groan escaped as his neck was next, snapping it left to right to ease out any crooks. His breaths stammered in unprecedented waverness, as his ears ached through the thudding sounds of his beating heart that seemed to be amplified in his mind. Jaw ticking. Hands shaking. Mouth dried. Body sweating. What the hell were you going to do when he’d shown up without your consent? In fact, you explicitly said to leave you alone. “Shit, shit, shit.” Eddie wanted to cry. Should he knock? No, your dad would call the cops. Would you call the cops? He sure as hell would if a drunk man harassed his yard.

But then, his stomach sank to his ass.

The one room that had been illuminated by the glowing overhead light had accentuated your silhouette. You. It was fucking you. In your room. Where you stayed, where you studied, where you slept, where you’d been crying and chose stoicism to numb the pain of everything around. But everything had happened quickly, and soon, you were gone with a sharp close of your curtains.

Eddie’s legs began working without thought, and he’d swiftly aligned himself with the window to your room, tramping the trimmed garden of crumpled rose bushes beneath his dirty sneakers. Your house had been complemented by the standing trellis that had been wrapped by vines of delicate nature. If there was any sign of either moving forward or leaving, the intricate trimming of your house perfectly starting where your trellis ended meaning Eddie had leeway to make it to your window, meaning Eddie’s intoxicated mind saw it was a passage to see you. “Jus do it f’her, do it f’her…” Regrettably, the rational part of his brain had fallen under the influence, which was screaming at him to just leave you alone.

As stealthy as a drunk man could, Eddie prayed the trellis could hold his weight, as he began scaling the flimsy wood against your wall. All he could think about was you. Every step was for you. Every splinter was for you. Every stumble was for you. Yet his clouded judgment could not process the fact that you didn’t want any of this. But the bottom of his shoe was already scuffing the white trimming of your house, and he was hoisting himself to stand upon the hipped edge roof. Crouched and begging his intoxication didn’t drop him from the second story, he quietly approached the dormer of your window.

His fingertips gently caressed the glass with great scrutiny. It was now just dawning on him as to what he’s just done. The danger he’s put himself and others in. The disrespect he’s inflicted upon you. The hurt. The knock was soft, barely comprehensible. You had ignored it, there was always noise. You tightly cuddled a bundle of your duvet, sinking yourself into the wallow of your bed in hopes of willing yourself to a serious need of sleep. But the noise continued. More apparent. More concerning.

You jolted at the clearest indication of a set of knocks cascading against your window.

Your heart began racing beyond compare, as the noise followed just outside. It was night, no one should be coming to your house, let alone your window at 9:27 p.m. And the one man you should have had full reliance on was currently passed out in his locked bedroom, where you knew awakening him would lead to a revile of the burden you’d become in his life. He said it when you were nine, and he’d freely say it again if you gave him a headache from his usual hangover.

But suddenly, the trembling of your body succumbed when you heard it.

“H-hello…”

Blindsided by the simple greeting, you stumbled out of bed with stupefaction that he would actually show up. Eddie. You ran to your window, swinging the curtains open to reveal him. Round, reddened eyes oozing with plead, as his hand pressed against your window. His heart sank at the look of disgust that his face garnered from you. He hated it. He hates your disheveled hair, your bagging pajamas, your wobbling lip. He hates you. He hates how perfect you were. Why the fuck were you so fucking perfect?

You made out the shaky “please” that left his mouth.

Opening the window swiftly, the cold breeze of the night engulfed you, as he helped you lift. “What are you doing here?!” You were quick to spit with spite.

“I-I,” upon seeing you, his eyes had an instant reaction to start welling for the shit he was putting you through, because he knew what he was wreaking was pure havoc in the normalcy of your life, “I just really needed to t-talk to you.” He managed to choke out.

His hot breath hit you like a truck, proffering memories of what a humid house party smelt like. “Are you drunk right now?!” He could only shamefully nod with closed eyes. “And you drove here?!” Another disgrace to his character. “Are you insane?!”

“M’so sorry… M’so fucking sorry, please, I-I jus- I jus-”

“You could have hurt somebody, Eddie!” Though whispered, it carried all the beratement of your anger. “You could have killed yourself!”

“I know!” He wailed with guilt. “I jus- I feel like m’losing my mind, because I need to fucking fix what I did. What I did to you! M’so sorry.” Your hands caught your head in anguish. You hated him, every being in your body wanted to shout at him, and yet, your heart was tormenting at the state he was in. And you fucking hated that you couldn’t hate him how you wanted- how you deserved. “M’sorry, I-I can leave and I swear I won-”

“You’re not fucking leaving like this, Eddie, you’re gonna get hurt.” You began tearing in frustration.

“Nonono, p-please don’t cry-”

He tried to reach out to you, but you slapped his comforting hands away, forcing him to lose his balance, before you had to steady him yourself. “You’re just saying that because you know you’re the cause.” You mumbled far too low for his drunk brain to process, while you held a tight grip around his wrist.

At an attempt to pull him in, his heavy, limp body contorted trying to bypass your window alcove, brandishing it with the streaks of his dirty shoes, and it took all your strength to stumble him onto your bed with a huff. Having him sit in place, you kneeled in front of him to get a good look at his face through the peering moonlight. He looked beyond exhausted, a testament to the agony of contrition he’s been eaten by for what he’s done to you. His eyes wholly swollen with irritation and tears that stained his flushed cheeks, as everything around him felt like it was burning hot. You couldn’t yell at him. At this state, ambushing him with an onslaught of curses and shouts would only project him into a disposition of vindication in order to protect himself. And that side of Eddie Munson was scary.

“Eddie,” you sighed, as his hanging head managed to meet your round eyes and quivering lips. “You cannot do this again. Do you hear me? You’re scaring me.” He vehemently shook his head, as his hands were quick to cover his face with shame to shield from the embarrassment he was consumed by. You pulled his arms away. “No, Eddie, I need you to say it; that you won’t do this to me again.”

“I-I… I won’t do this to you a-again- m’sorry. I won’t touch you, I promise, M’not my dad.” He sobbed.

You sighed in defeat. “What- why would you even do this in the first place? What are you talking about?” You pleaded to understand, as tears constricted your eyes.

There’s so much he wanted to say, but he didn’t know where to start. “I fucking need to fix what I did to you. I didn’t mean it, any of the shit I said to you. Being around is just so nice that I get afraid. I don’t want to lose you… a-as a friend, because- because nice things don’t happen to me, and I don’t know what I would do if I lost-” His breath had caught up to him, making him retch on nothing but tears and snot.

“Breathe, okay, Eddie, just breathe.” You quietly instructed, as he endeavored to follow suit. Your hands softly took hold of his, trying to ameliorate the violent shakes of his stiffening body, fingers delicately locking to find solace within his. And he held back so tightly.

“Nobody- nobody’s ever cared like you have.” He whimpered.

“So why treat me like this?” You mewled, sinking your teeth to discontinue the incoming sobs that stung your throat.

“Because I don’t fucking deserve you-” You were quick to immediately shush him, as your father was merely a couple doors down. “Sorry, but I can’t fucking like you, Y/N.” He murmured through a quivering lip. His mind was spewing his feelings, the one he so badly wanted to ignore, but alas, his intoxicated state was regrettably telling all. “I can’t, it hurts too much. Knowing- knowing you don’t belong with me, I-I can’t fucking hold you, hug you, I c-can’t.”

“Eddie, you could have just talked to me.” You softly cried.

“No.” He looked so terrified. “I can’t fucking hear you ignore me. I-I know you don’t like me-”

“You don’t know that-”

“Fucking look at me, Y/N.” He bawled. “Look at what I’m doing to you. You don’t fucking deserve this. M’not a good person. I hurt you. I fucking hurt you.”

“I just wished you would have given me a chance, and talked to me, Eddie.” You squeezed his hands.

“No, I don’t want to burden you.” He cried with heavy breaths. “There’s things I wanna say to you- do with you, but I should just be letting you live free from me. No one cares about what I have to say, and you know it.” He begged for you to get it. “All that bullshit about communication doesn’t mean anything when it comes to me. No one wants to hear me. No one wants me.”

Your heart shattered at the revelation because it was beyond the definitions of truth. From childhood, Eddie Munson knew he was nothing if not a punching bag to his father, a therapist to his mother, an obligation to his uncle, and a burden to everyone. It became unwarrantedly embedded into a six-year-old boy and vandalized into his twenty-year-old self. He recognized it. Everyone affirmed it.

You raked your hands from his hold, choosing to sit next to him on your bed, where your arms inundated him into a hug he had not received in years. The last close touch given to Eddie Munson left him weeping with a broken nose. He immediately fell into your embrace, shoving his head in the comfort of your neck, where his cries only amplified with the desperation of being touched lovingly. Your own tears had dampened his unruly head of hair, as you caved into him. His heavy arms constricted you tightly.

At this moment, you were not scared of Eddie Munson. You’d seen his reasoning and you understood. Not excused, but understood. A lot of people had simply scared him first.

“I hear you, Eddie. I want to keep hearing you.”

“Eddie?” You whispered into his curls.

It’d been an hour of nonstop wails of distress, years of pent up emotions, and the realization that his being could be accepted. Even if it was just for tonight. His eyes had endured a rollercoaster of feelings, and they soon gave up on holding him awake. You didn’t move. He didn’t move. A tight hug that was necessary for both of you after heavy stoicism from neglect in your own unique ways.

You caressed his head. “Eddie?”

He was out. You let out a shaky breath of relief. Carefully maneuvering his body, you gently laid his head onto your pillow, prying his strong arms from your waist where they refused to let go, bunching the fabric of your sweater. But you managed to escape his needy hold. Huffing lightly, you carried his legs onto your bed, deciding to let his shoes dirty your clean blankets. His arms had subconsciously gotten comfortable, splaying out against your mattress, where he fell into deep relaxation in comparison to the lumpy bed he’d succumb to back home. You took sight of the fading ink across his hand, your information decorating his alabaster skin with the all too familiar pink of Chrissy Cunningham’s pen. You wondered how the hell that conversation had gone down. You tenderly eased his arms from the malaise of his jacket, bringing the denim and leather infused with cheap cologne and cigarettes up to your nose. It was Eddie. Soothing the beloved jacket against the back of your desk chair, a small paper had dropped from the nearly torn pocket. Reaching out, you picked up the torn page from Dustin Henderson’s yearbook.

Though, no other student could be seen. It was ripped haphazardly to only focus on your picture.

You.

Eddie Munson had now seen you, as you had now seen him.

Softly placing the photo back, you rummaged through your closet to retrieve another set of duvets and blankets, where you preciously placed them onto the floor of your bedroom. Your bed had now been stolen, but you weren’t complaining—that much, at least. You’d quietly taken another pillow from your bed, placing it onto your newfound cushion of the floor. There was a reason why you shoved this particular blanket into the closet, it made your skin itch uncomfortably, but you’d withstand the terrible material of the woven covers if it meant that Eddie could get the peace he needed.

Because if Eddie was okay, you’d be okay.

Because similarly to Eddie, who were you if not catering to the needs of others in order to keep sanity in your life. You just wanted stability. True stability.

Cuddling into your blankets, you heard the snores of the past out man next to you. You sighed. In the mere three days of knowing Eddie Munson, you accepted the emotional labor that came with his damaged self. But that was okay. Because Eddie Munson seemed ready to do the same for you. Accept you.

But how willing were you to tolerate the impulsivity of Eddie Munson who knew nothing of stability?

𝐓𝐚𝐠 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭 | Again, there was an error in my tag list, which led me to removing it. Luckily, it’s been a couple days, so I believe most who wished to be tagged already read this chapter. My tag list will continue, I just simply had to remove it for this chapter in particular. I’m terribly sorry for any confusion.

#stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson angst #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson fluff #mean!eddie munson #the yearbook: club pictures

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oneforthemunny · 7 months

Text

round and round |boxer!eddie munson x reader|

prompt: a snide, joking comment has you and eddie trying something new in the ring to spice things up. a ring girl, announcing each round you and eddie do. horrible fucking descript lol, but based off of this ask from the lovely @belokhvostikova

word count: 6k+

contains: boxer!eddie. mean-ish!eddie?? rough sex, but everything is consensual. idk if it counts as roleplay but i'll tag it just in case. mean, nasty sex lol. fem fingering, grinding, pinvsex, creampie. kinda aftercare? they're mean but it works ok? just filthy fun idk. smut. 18+ minors dni.

“Look at you.” Eddie grinned, arms hanging over the side of the ropes. “Do a spin for me, baby. Let me see the whole thing.”

You rolled your eyes, pivoting in the tiniest twirl to show off your little outfit; a skimpy skirt that flounced with every step, a too tight top with a plunging neckline. It was a stark contrast to what you normally wore to Eddie’s practices, that is when you actually showed up to his practices. Typically opting for a track suit, maybe jeans if you were feeling especially generous, but this was a different practice today.

What had started as a joke, a snide sneer of a comment, maybe stemming from jealousy at the way the ring girl looked at Eddie when she strutted away, batting her eyes and giving him a dazzling smile. You weren’t entirely upset at the jab his opponent gave him after that, he’d deserved it.

“Maybe I should dress like her, hm?” You had sneered that night, grip tightening around his bicep when you passed the same girl after the match.

“Yeah,” Eddie snorted, shaking his head. “For who?”

“I dunno.” You shrugged, lips pursing, eyes narrowing. “I guess for you. Maybe you’ll actually pay attention to me if I did.”

Eddie scoffed at you, rolling his eyes so hard the throbbing in his left temple started up again. “Sure.” He pushed the door open to the back of the arena, letting you walk before him. “I don’t pay attention to them, baby. I’m in the middle of a fight.”

You hummed sarcastically. “I’m sure you don’t.”

“Maybe if you wore it, I would.” Eddie’s lips curled in a smug smirk that made you want to smack it right off his face. “Definitely would pay attention then.”

You didn’t realize how serious he was about it until later, in your own home. Bloodied knuckles brushing over your chin, your cheek, swallowing you with kisses, fingers slipping under your nightgown. “Think you really should dress up.” Eddie muttered, steaming kisses trailing down your jaw, nipping at your chin. “Let me take you for a coupla rounds. See if you can take me.”

Now, you wondered if it was still what he wanted, walking to the small practice ring, blistering under Eddie’s hungry gaze. “You like it?” You smoothed your hand over your tiny skirt. “Short enough?”

“I don’t know, c’mere, let me get a closer look.” Eddie grinned, pulling the ropes up so you could duck under them.

You hiked your leg up, turning away from him when you stepped under so he got a full view of your tiny thong underneath. Eddie smirked, swatting at your ass, smug at how you squealed.

“You look…” Eddie leaned back against the ropes, arms crossing over his chest. His eyes rolled over your frame, taking in every inch of your body, leaving you burning with excited heat under his gaze. “Amazing, baby.”

“Yeah?” You hummed, pulling your neckline lower, biting back a grin at Eddie’s laugh. “Look like the real thing?”

“Better.” Eddie nodded. “You ready to go all six rounds?”

“Six?” You gawked. “You didn’t say six.”

“You said you wanted me to take it easy on you.” Eddie shrugged.

“Taking it easy is six?” You lifted a brow. “Can you even last six rounds?”

Eddie’s tongue rolled over his teeth, biting back a smirk. He wouldn’t snap back, wouldn’t huff and bitch at you when you tried to get him riled up. Oh no, he’d do what he did best, and take it out in the ring.

“I think you and I both know I can.” Eddie countered cooly, pushing off the ropes.

You hated the way your knees shook under his gaze, throbbing between your thighs. Eddie picked up the sign behind him. He had found it tucked in a storage closet, the letters fading from age, the perfect prop.

“Make sure you hold it up high, alright.” Eddie grinned, patting your hip when he passed you.

You looked over your shoulder, eyes batting sweetly towards him, nestled in the corner or the ring. “You ready?”

“Oh, yeah.” Eddie nodded. “Ready when you are, baby. Show me your walk.”

You swallowed the spit pooling in your mouth, shoulders rolling back before you lifted the sign, strutting to the edge and back with a dazzling smile, just like you’d seen the girls do a thousand times before.

Eddie’s wolf whistle cut through the empty gym, clapping slowly at your finished hip pop, dramatic, a little silly. “How was that?” You asked, passing him the sign.

“Best I’ve ever seen.” Eddie smirked, tossing the sign out of the way. “Now,” He lined himself up, toe to toe. “You gotta ring the bell.”

“The bell?” You snorted, looking around. “What bell?”

“Gotta ring the bell.” Eddie looked at you, down the slope of his nose. A darkness in those brown eyes you adored that had your heart skipping with fear, maybe excitement.

“What? Like, ding, ding?” You scoffed, your eye roll cut short when Eddie grabbed you, two hands on your waist, spinning you and pulling you flush into his chest.

You gasped, shocked, stumbling into his hold. “Wait!” Eddie ignored your cry, arm wrapping over yours in a tight grip, pinning you there. His free hand pressed to your lower stomach, right over the top of the skirt.

You squirmed, feet digging into the ground, body wriggling in Eddie’s grasp. “Told you to stay on your toes.” Eddie hummed.

“I wasn’t ready.” You snapped, arms wiggling by your sides where Eddie had them trapped. “You’re such a cheater.”

“Oh? Am I?” Eddie growled, breath hot on your neck. You snarled, wrenching away. “I never told you this was gonna be a fair fight.” His free hand slid down the front of your tiny skirt, stopping just on your mound, pressing gently so you whimpered. “But something tells me you’re not gonna mind.”

Your scoff was cut off by his hand slipping between your legs, pointer and middle finger pressed to the soft cotton of your panties. You melted into his broad chest, chin tucked to look down the valley of your squished tits.

The whine you gave when Eddie circled over your clothed clit was music to his ears, electrifying him with a bout of energy. Teeth grazing over the shell of your ear, nibbling just barely, enough to have you squealing, squirming against him though he could feel you soaking his fingers through your panties.

“C’mon, you’re just gonna give in that easy?” Eddie mocked. “I mean, I knew it’d be easy. Knew you’d be tapping out before long, but I thought you might try a little harder than this.” Fighting words. He knew it, lips pulled tight in a grin.

Your body burned, hot with fury, with the pleasure he was giving you. Every atom in your body told you to stay, to let him pleasure you, give into ecstasy, but your pride wouldn’t let you. Heels digging into the floor, you pushed against Eddie, away from his hand that fought to keep you down.

“Ooh, you’re gettin’ mad, hm? That made you mad?” Eddie snickered, grip tightening around you. “Already ready to tap out?”

“Shut up.” You gritted, swallowing back a whine, body stuttering when his fingers swirled around your clit again.

“I can already taste victory.” Eddie smirked smugly, fingers pressing into your slick, soaking the cotton of your tiny panties.”How about you?” His breath hot on the shell of your ear. “You want a taste?”

Eddie lifted his fingers, sticky and soaked in your arousal, an evident string connecting in the middle of the two fingers. You blistered in heat, turning away from his fingers.

“C’mon, open up for me. Have a little taste.” Eddie cooed, nearly taunting, free hand sneaking up your torso to grab your jaw, hold you in place.

You whimpered behind a closed mouth, jaw hinged shut, his fingers digging into your cheeks holding you steady. “Open up f’me. Taste yourself. Tell me how good you taste, baby.”

It was embarrassing, Eddie knew that. Of course he knew that. It was exactly why he teased you like this, because he knew how wet it got you. How badly you tried to fight it even when your body betrayed you, even when the evidence was right in front of you.

A jerking twist of your body nearly had you getting away. Nearly.

Eddie’s arms wrapped tighter around your torso, hugging you back into his chest. “Oh, c’mon. You know you gotta be faster than that, baby.” He shook his head at you.

“Are you seriously going to do this the whole time?” You huffed, nails digging back into his hips.

Eddie didn’t hiss, didn’t snap at you, bend you over his knee with your hands pinned behind your back to spank you. Instead, he moaned. A breathy groan behind closed lips that shook all the way down his body, vibrated onto your skin, left you aching to your core.

That fucker.

“Ugh, seriously, Ed. Just let me go.” You scoffed, wiggling against him, ass purposefully brushing against his crotch. “This isn’t even fun.”

“Fun for me.” Eddie growled, hips rolling into the fat of your ass. “You’re not having fun?”

“No.” You snapped. “No, I’m not.”

Eddie tutted, tongue clicking sympathetically. “Aw, that’s no good, now is it? Can’t have that.” He cooed in that same mocking tone that had you wishing your arms were free so you could smack him.

His hand moved back down the front of your skirt, sliding under the hem, back to your panties, circling over the same damp spot. Your knees buckled, brain bursting with numbing pleasure. “I’ll make sure it’s fun for you again.”

Two fingers circling over your clothed clit expertly is how he won that round. You stuttered, squirming, grinding down into his touch until your body shook with pleasure. Your slick still covering Eddie’s fingers, he let you go, stumbling towards the ropes on shaky legs.

Your chest heaving, you looked back at him with a glassy eyed glare. Eddie held your gaze, firm and commanding, taking his two slick soaked fingers in his mouth with a sigh. You ached at the sight.

“Missed out.” Eddie hummed, spit clicking around his fingers when he pulled them from his mouth. “Taste damn good, baby.”

Your lips twisted, gripping the ropes to steady yourself. Eddie shrugged, heavy steps back to his own corner, leaning over to get the next sign. “Go ahead.” He tossed it to you with a flick of his wrist, letting it scutter to the ground of the ring, sliding to your feet. “Next round.”

“Seriously?” You huffed, lifting a brow.

“I won that round.” Eddie rolled his eyes.

“No, I have to- You want me to seriously do the sign every time?” You looked down at the large sign, mocking letters of Round Two. You were regretting agreeing to six.

“Are you tapping out already?” Eddie lifted a brow, inked arms crossed over his defined chest. “That’s all it took?”

“No.” You hissed, fiercely, reaching to snatch the sign, hoping Eddie didn’t see the way your thighs trembled when you did. “Just think it’s stupid you want me to do this.”

“This was your idea, baby.” Eddie scoffed, giving you a pointed glare.

“Yeah, and you were really excited about it, Munson. Don’t act like you weren’t.” You countered with the same bite in your tone.

“Of course I was, but it wasn’t my idea.” Eddie shrugged, tongue rolling over his cheek in that same cocky manner that had you steaming with fury. “If it was my idea, I’d have you topless.”

“Oh?” You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “That right?”

“Yeah.” Eddie smirked, eyes sliding hungrily down your frame. “Still could be. Go ahead and take that bra off f’me, baby.”

“No.” You sneered, nose scrunching at the request. “You’re being gross.”

“Yeah? ‘S alright. I’ll get it off.” Eddie grinned, dark and dimpled. You swallowed down a shudder. “On your mark, baby.”

You rolled your eyes, putting the sign in your hands and lifting it half heartedly. “Oh, no, no, no. Nuh-uh.” Eddie’s tone was sharp, head shaking from the other side of the ring. “You’re gonna do this right, or we’re not gonna do it at all.”

The threat in his tone had your spine tingling, straightening at his words. “Now, lift that sign up and do your little walk, or we’ll stop right here.” His arms crossed at you. “That what you want?”

You huffed, nails digging into the sign before lifting it up high, putting on a fake, overly exaggerated smile and striding towards the middle of the ring.

Eddie smirked. “Atta girl. Good choice.” He eyed your skirt as you turned back to your corner, petulantly throwing the sign down.

“Alright, you know what you’re ‘sposed to do now, baby. C’mon, let’s get going.” Eddie jogged, bouncing on his toes, shaking out his arms, really putting on a show for you.

You fought back a snort of a laugh, crossing your arms instead, still clinging to the ropes. “Ok, I’m ready.” You muttered.

Eddie’s brows lifted in shock. “No, c’mon, why’re you being like this? Sore fuckin’ loser already? You still have a fighting chance, for now.”

“You’re being mean, Ed.” You huffed. “This is supposed to be fun.”

“Mean?” Eddie snorted. “You got to cum. I’m the one stuck with blue balls, baby. I should be the one bitching and moaning.”

“You’re such a dick. Can you just play nice, for once?” You rolled your eyes, head shaking in annoyance at him.

“You want me to play nice? Fine, I’ll play nice.” Eddie rolled his eyes right back at you, annoyed with your antics. “Ring the bell, baby. I’ll go easier on you this time.”

You glared at him, holding him under your gaze for a moment before relenting. “Fine. Ding. Round started.”

Eddie took a step away from the ropes, but didn’t move, hands over his chest, he waited for you. For you to take careful steps towards him, at a safe distance. Eddie didn’t move, he wouldn’t. He’d play fairer this time, let you have the first move.

You finally took your chance, stepping toe to toe with him. Your gaze on his, the both of you looking unmovingly at the other, Eddie’s arms still crossed. You hummed in satisfaction, sinking to your knees with a tiny grin, fingers toying with the strings of his shorts.

Eddie sighed slowly through his nose. He almost felt guilty. You looked so sweet, so smug, lashes batting towards him, fingers hooking to pull his boxers down slowly. Eddie almost gave in, let you have your way.

Almost.

“Hey!” You screeched, a hand knotting through your hair, pulling you back when you started to lean forward. “What the fuck, Ed?” You spat, glaring up at him, hands on his wrist.

“Go ahead.” Eddie smirked, a steel hand holding you in place by your hair. “Go on, baby.”

You leaned forward barely, your scalp screaming from Eddie’s firm hold. Every tug and pull with your movements had you frustrated.

“Are you- Are you serious?” You growled, nails digging into his wrist, trying to pry his hand from your scalp. Eddie’s smirk made you even more furious. “You said you’d be nice.”

“I am.” Eddie answered coolly.

“You are not.” You sneered around a frustrated huff. “You’re being mean.”

“Oh, this isn’t mean.” Eddie shook his head, unmoving elsewhere with his grip. “You want me to show you mean?”

You frowned. “No.” You clicked in annoyance. “I’m trying to suck your dick.” You said bluntly, hoping for even a slight reaction.

Eddie only laughed, soft, lips tugging in a smile. “So go ahead.” Eddie nodded down to you. “Go on, baby.”

“I can’t.” You spat, still fighting against his hand. “You know I can’t.”

“You can’t?” Eddie tilted his head to the side. “C’mon. ‘S right there.” He pushed his growing erection towards you, so close you could almost taste it.

“You’re such an asshole.” You growled, sinking back on your knees. “Try to suck your dick and you hold me back? What is wrong with you?”

“Aw, I’m sorry, baby.” Eddie tsked, sinking down to his knees in a crouch in front of you, his hand releasing its grip just barely. “I’m so mean, aren’t I?” That same mocking tone found its way back into Eddie’s words. You tried to hide the way it infuriated you.

“Not giving you what you want. What a-”

You didn’t let him finish his taunt. The second his grip loosened, you took your chance, tearing from his grasp, lunging forward to topple him over, pinning him on the mat.

Eddie’s head hit the hard floor of the ring with a grunt, your nails digging into his bare shoulders, straddling his stomach. The fluorescent lights illuminated around you, a silver lining around your hair and features.

“You are an asshole.” Your eyes narrowed, finishing his sentence from before. “A mean, mean asshole.”

“That right?” Eddie smirked, swallowing thickly. He could feel your heat on his abdomen, the damp spot of your panties teasing him- driving him fucking wild.

“Mmhm.” You nodded, grinning triumphantly. “And I’m not rewarding you for that.”

“Oh?” Eddie laughed, brows raising amusingly. “You’re not?”

You shook your head. “No, because you haven’t been very nice.” You tilted your head to the side. “I don’t think you deserve for me to suck your dick.”

Eddie’s lips rolled, fighting back a smirk. You were so confident, so cocky, it was adorable. Adorable that you really thought you had him pinned. You should know better, know not to leave his hands free, but he’d let you continue your smugness if only for his own pleasure.

You scooted back, shimmying down until your core was over Eddie’s throbbing bulge, grinding down over it.

“Oh, shit,” Eddie groaned, head tipping back onto the floor of the ring when you started to grind slowly, painfully slow. Hips rocking in a circle, expertly rubbing him just the right way with every roll of your hips.

You leaned your weight into your hands, pressing down on Eddie’s shoulders, palms digging into the etchings of skin- a dagger with a heart under your left, a flaming skull in the right. Under the inked skin, you could see Eddie’s own pale flesh tinging with a pink flush.

“That’s it.” The sigh whistled through Eddie’s teeth like a hiss. He clenched his hands, fought to keep them from reaching up, sinking into your hips.

“You like that?” You grin wickedly down at Eddie, hovering over him, hips rocking slowly. Enough that you know he’s enjoying it, you can feel every excited twitch from him under your hold.

“Mmm.” Eddie nearly whimpers. “Fuck, you know I do. Feel good, baby.”

“See? This is how you play nice.” You grin, leaning forward, catching his bottom lip between your teeth lightly, pulling back so you could see the inked letters- your initials on the inside in a gothic font. He’d gotten it on a rare drunken night in Los Angeles. You told him not to, told him it was stupid, but held his hand sweetly while the tattoo artist carved it into his skin.

“Shit, baby, you-you gotta stop.” Eddie’s teeth clenched, vein on his neck bulging at the sensation. You continued your pace, nails digging into his skin. “Babe, seriously, I’m gonna fuckin’ bust if you keep this up.”

“Oh?” You quipped, brow raising dramatically. “Is this a forfeit?”

Eddie rolled his eyes, scoff catching in his throat when you pressed your core further into his length, hips swiveling in a circle. Eddie swallowed a groan, jaw flexing under you. “Not a forfeit.” He shook his head. “But you…you- oh fuck me- you win this round.”

“What’s that?” You tilted your head to his, mockingly. He fought the urge to flip you over, pin your hands behind your back and make a mess of you. Teach you a lesson.

“You win.” Eddie growled, eyes dark and daring at you. “This round.” He added when your hips finally slowed.

Your arousals mixing through the fabric left you and Eddie sporting matching wet spots on your panties and on his shorts. Eddie tracked you, chest heaving in a slow, deep pace through hooded eyes.

A smug pep returned to your step, hips swaying back to your corner, bending over dramatically so Eddie could get a full view of your ass when you grabbed the third sign. His cock throbbed at the sight, swallowing down the urge to take you right there, over the ropes.

Instead he stood, palming himself for a moment to release some of the ache in his cock, walking back to his own corner of the ring. You watched him, lips rolling in a triumphant smile.

“We’re tied, Munson.” Your nails tapped on the sign.

“For now.” Eddie nodded back coolly, leaning back onto his corner, arms draping over the side of the ropes. “Go ahead.”

You lifted the sign high, eyes on him in a narrowed glare- challenging. Strutting into the middle, you spun on your heel, making sure to snap your hips with every step. You knew Eddie was watching you, eyes glued to your ass, your legs, mouth salivating at the sight. He wouldn’t last long, wouldn’t be able to resist, he was still just a man, afterall.

“Are you ready?” Eddie asked, arms crossed over his chest, flexing. You fought an eye roll.

“Are you?” You countered, brow lifted at him.

Eddie snorted lightly, a puff of air falling from his nose. “I’m ready.” He nodded. “Ring that bell, baby.”

“Ding.” You deadpanned, taking a small, creeping step from the ropes.

Eddie took a wide step towards you, a chess match, every step you’d take he’d challenge. You were growing frustrated, shoulders rising and falling sharply, swallowing back huffs, hands raised slightly in front of you to keep him away, keep yourself at a distance.

Adorable, Eddie thought.

He didn’t look, didn’t give himself away or even give you a warning. Before you could even comprehend what was happening, Eddie had your wrists in his hands, pulling them behind your back.

“Oh, come on!” You huffed, fighting in his grasp, Eddie walking you towards the ropes. His sneaker propped on the bottom rope, grabbing your hands in his right, pushing the middle rope up while he dropped to his free knee.

“No, no, Eddie.” You dug your heels into the ground, pushing back when he tried to haul you over his knee. “Eddie, don’t you fucking dare. I’m serious.”

“Don’t what?” Eddie hummed, tugging you forward, your abdomen pressed over his thigh.

“Eddie.” You hissed, cheeks burning with fury. “We are not playing like this tonight.”

“What do you mean, babe?” You could practically hear Eddie’s smug smirk, content and happy that he was embarrassing you. “What do you think I’m gonna do?” His free hand brushed over the seat of your skirt, squeezing the fat of your right cheek.

You huffed, wiggling and fighting to get out of his grip, his hand on the small of your back kept you in place. “Eddie, this is so not fucking funny. You better not.” You growled. “I did not say you could.”

“Oh,” Eddie sighed dramatically. “Oh, you think I’m going to spank you?” Your body burned at the word, rushing with shamed excitement the same way you always did, thighs pressing together.

“‘M not gonna spank you, baby, don’t worry.” Eddie smirked, patting the seat of your skirt lightly. “But I don’t know why you get so embarrassed to say it, baby. You certainly enjoy it when I spank you.”

“Fuck you, Eddie.” You sneered, wrists jerking in his firm grasp.

“Mm, not yet, baby. Have some patience, we'll get there.” Eddie muttered, fingers tracing the edge of your panties, fingers slipping inside.

You tried to fight the shudder that tore through your nervous system, clouded your veins with pleasure when Eddie’s calloused fingertips slipped through your folds, circling, teasing your sopping hole.

“You couldn’t do this without holding me like this?” You rolled your eyes, swallowing back a whine. “Seriously, Eddie, this is so uncomfort- oh shi-it.” A strangled gasp tore from your chest when Eddie pushed a finger in, curling expertly, a slow pump inside of you.

“Uncomfortable?” Eddie lifted a brow, shaking his head slowly. “Just relax and it won’t be. C’mon, you’re not gonna win this round anyways. Just let me take care of you.”

You’d blame it on your brain, still hazy from your earlier orgasm, that had to be the reason you didn’t fight him. The reason you didn’t snap at him, try to kick him, why you just submitted under his touch. Let him make you feel good, until you were squirming in his hold, toes curling at your fast approaching orgasm until it consumed you. Left you whining, body spasming with aftershocks of pleasure.

“Hmm, who’s the winner of this round?” Eddie asked, pulling his fingers from your sopping cunt, wiping your arousal on your ass, painting the soft skin with your sticky release.

You didn’t answer, unsure if you could even if you wanted to. “Ooh, don’t be like that, baby.” Eddie pulled you up slowly, letting you settle onto his thigh, holding you to his chest.

You rubbed your wrist, glaring at him though it was softened by the dazed, glowy look in your eyes. Eddie’s hand rubbed over your hip, lips pressing to your temple sweetly, much softer now.

“You alright?” Eddie muttered, pushing the hair out of his view so he could see your face fully.

“Yeah.” You hummed, rubbing your wrist gently, staring ahead.

“You sure?” Eddie pressed, pulling back to look at you fully.

Your head lolled to the side, a pout and scowl all at once- your signature look, Eddie always teased you about that. “My arms hurt.” Your brows furrow at him. “I can’t stand it when you do that. Your hands are so sweaty, Rubbed my wrists raw.” Your nose crinkles in disgust, just enough to have Eddie grinning.

“Could’ve tapped out.” Eddie hums, nose nuzzling against the soft skin of your cheek. “Still can. Call it quits. Make me the winner.”

You sighed, leaning back into his coaxing touch. “Where’s the fun in that?” You muttered, eyes fluttering open, met with Eddie’s wolfish grin. That was exactly why he loved you, head over heels even if he was reluctant to admit it.

“Fine.” Eddie’s tongue ran over his teeth. “But I won that round.”

“Sure.” You rolled your eyes, pushing off his thigh, wobbling slightly at the burn in your calves, thighs. “Two to one.”

Eddie stood with a silent groan, stretching his leg. “Go get your sign.” He nodded towards the corner.

You scoffed lightly. “You’re really committed to this?”

“Yeah. I don’t half ass things, sweetheart, you should know that.” Eddie strode back to his corner. “Round four.”

“I know.” You click, the fight returning back to your tone, dripping with annoyance. It made Eddie’s hands buzz, jittery with excitement.

It was the same routine, holding the sign up with burning limbs, still recovering from being held into place. A strut that was more like a step now, a little shaky, though you tried to mask it. Eddie still tracked you, arms crossed, head tilted high and cocky, though his eyes were clouded with a darkness that made your senses jolt alive.

“Ok,” You flung the sign to the side, shoulders rolling back. “I’m ready.”

“That the bell?”

“That’s the bell.” You nodded, pushing off the ropes slowly.

Eddie met you at the middle of the ring, the two of you circling around the other, prowling, waiting for the other to make the first move. You reached out for Eddie, hoping to pounce on him like before. He expected it this time, catching you by your waist. A hand cradled behind your head, pulling you down onto the ring with a huff, hand protecting the collide of the mat with your head.

“Ow,” You hissed through gritted teeth at the sudden jostling.

“That didn’t hurt.” Eddie rolled his eyes dramatically. He knew it didn’t, he knew what you sounded like when you were hurt- he knew all your sounds, all your looks, including the one you were giving him. A glassy eyed glare, tired and ready to submit, ready to get what you wanted.

“You’re being so rough today.” You rolled your eyes. “This is supposed to be fun.”

“You’re not having fun?” Eddie huffed, straddling your hips, fingers teasing the edge of your panties, skirt flipped over your midsection. “C’mon, you know you’re having fun.” Eddie grinned.

“Can we call it? Can you just fuck me?” You blinked at him, unamused. That same demanding look, brows pinched, furrowed in a defiant, demanding frown that had Eddie’s cock twitching behind the nylon material of his shorts.

“Oh? What’s this? Thought I would be the one who couldn’t last?” Eddie snickered, mean and teasing, accompanied with a dimple grin that resembled more of a sneer. Your lips twitched in a snarl. His fingers curled, pulling around the tiny band of your panties.

“You’re just being annoying now.” You roll your eyes, hips lifting so he could tug your panties off. “Just fuck me now. I know you want to.” Your hips raised again, bare crotch rubbing against his clothed one.

“Hm, so I’m the winner? You sure? We still have, what? Three more rounds? Anyone’s game, baby.” Eddie balled your panties in his hand, fist closing around on the skimpy material.

“Eddie, just stop.” You hated how whiney your tone was. “Just fuck me already.”

“Nuh-uh-uh, sweetheart.” Eddie shook his head. “Gotta announce my victory. C’mon.” He patted your thigh sweetly.

“Eddie,” You groaned, the heel of your palms pressing to your eyes in frustration. He loved doing this to you, just fucking with you. Getting your head spinning, thoughts so bleary and distorted until you were seething with exasperation and desperation.

“I’ll do it after, ok? You can have your little victory lap after. Just-Just please.” It hardly sounded nice, sweet and begging like Eddie would normally have you ask. On your knees, usually, lip jutted, broken into submission for him, forced to use a sweet tone that was foreign to the both of you to persuade him to give in to you.

“How do I know you’re not tricking me, hm? Fighting dirty so you get the win?” Eddie looked down the slope of his nose at you, eyes dark and borning, pinning you to the mat. You knew by the way his chest was boasting, puffing out in smug satisfaction, that he was enjoying this. Enjoying having you like this.

“Do you really think that’s what I’m doing?” Your tone clipped, filled with venomous annoyance. “Quit being stupid and fuck me, or I’ll find someone who will.”

Eddie’s smug demeanor dropped, eyes narrowed down at you. His jaw rolled, teeth sucking in irritation. A sore spot, you knew it. You knew how possessive Eddie was of you. You’d experienced it first hand at a pre-match press conference when Boudouani made a snide comment to Eddie, taunting him about you. Your dress you were wearing, black and short, something about how he wanted to take it off. You didn’t hear the whole thing, Eddie had lunged over the podium at him, it took his entire team to hold him back. Take it out in the ring, and so he had, delivering a solid punch to the other’s jaw, a perfect knock-out in the fifth round.

“Oh, it’s like that? You’re gonna be like that?” Eddie snarled through a still tight jaw.

You stayed quiet, a little unsure as you tracked him. He’d pushed you, frazzled you past the point of decency.

Eddie shoved his shorts down, cock springing free, dangling in front of you nearly tauntingly. You would’ve sucked him off, crawled to him and took him down your throat sweetly as some sort of apology. Eddie grabbed your ankles before you could, tugging them up as he sank to his knees, your legs over his shoulders, back sliding in a stuttered friction from the mat towards him.

“You want someone else?” Eddie sneered, one hand on your thigh, the other pumping his length but his eyes stayed on yours, locked into your gaze fiercely. “That what you want?” You bit back a moan, the head of his cock sliding over your folds, teasing you.

“Hmm?” Eddie’s fingertips dug into your thigh, hard enough to have you whining. “If you want someone else, you go get ‘em, baby.”

“I don’t.” Your voice was strangled, toes curling. You were close, so fucking close to getting what you wanted. “You just… You were getting on my nerves-”

“-Oh? And you threw a little bitch fit because I was teasing you?” Eddie snorted furiously, the tip of his cock lining with your entrance. “You fucking know better.”

You squirmed under his gaze, his tone soaked with chastisement that made you feel petulant and small. Your lips parted, a huffy retort on the tip of your tongue cut short by Eddie’s expert timing, cock pushing into you, filling you with a slow roll of his hips.

“You think this shit’s funny?” Eddie’s free hand went to your other thigh, holding you steady to him, hips rocking slowly at first. He wanted to feel you, needed to, even if he was being hard with you. “How'd you like it if I said that? If I talked about fucking one of those ring girls.”

“I’d think you were serious.” You sneered, swallowing back a moan, clenching to still your hips, so Eddie could feel you squeezing around him. “Already have me dressing up as one. Maybe you do-”

“-Shut up.” Eddie grunted, pulling back, hips snapping to the fat of your thighs and ass with a sharp jab. “Just shut up, alright? I’m done hearing your fucking mouth. Ruinin’ shit.”

“You’re getting a-awfully defensive.” You swallow back a whimper at his punishing pace. Punctuated and punishing, leaving you breathless and dizzy at the same time.

“You’re awfully pissing me off.” Eddie gritted through clenched teeth, never breaking rhythm. You were so close already, too sensitive from before. “Don’t ruin this, alright? You’re getting what you fuckin’ want.”

And you were. You finally were. Hands by your head, body lifted to Eddie could fuck into you at a brutal pace. Still, it made you drool, every punch of his cock to your cervix. Nails digging into your closed palms, toes curling, calves flexing against Eddie’s shoulder when his hand dropped down to circle your clit, pushing you right over that edge of pleasure.

He had you flipped before your vision had even cleared. The fluorescents collidescoped with the beams and Eddie’s curls, until you found your cheek pressed to the floor of the mat. Normally you’d screech, push off the floor and bitch Eddie out for pressing you into the filthy mat. It didn’t even register in your foggy mind this time, letting him pin your hands behind your back, continuing his fastened pace.

“One more round.” Eddie gritted, swallowing back a moan, the muted slap of his balls hitting your cunt, hips to the fat of your ass. “One more round and I win.”

“You already won.” You muttered, drool pooling out of the corner of your mouth, body quivering with sensitivities.

“What’s that?” Eddie’s abs clenched, a ghosting of a moan with his exhale. “C’mon, you were so loud earlier.”

“You-” You whimpered, a shiver spilling down your spine. “You already won, Ed. You’re the winner.”

Eddie swallowed, hips stuttering as his own orgasm washed over him. Your hushed, sweet tone, the words falling from your lips- music to his fucking ears.

Eddie released your wrists, placing them beside you, kissing up your spine softly. You were sure your wrists would be bruised, raw at the very least, from before and now. Eddie’s own hands rubbed your back softly, still buried deep inside of you. Softer now, all of him, all of you too.

The pull out was slow, Eddie using his shorts to wipe off his release that fell onto the mat. You managed to stand on shaky legs, clinging to his arm as he helped you.

“I’m not taking a shower here. I didn’t bring shoes for that shower.” You muttered, still spacey but that edge hinting in your tone, Eddie grinned at it.

“Hey, hold on.” Eddie grabbed your arm lightly, pulling you back to him.

“What?” You huffed, feeling his release leak down your leg. You were desperate to go to the bathroom, change into your clothes, clean yourself up a little. “Ed, you gotta give me a break, alright? We can do whatever back home if you still want to, but I’m-”

“-No,” Eddie shook his head, holding your hand in his so sweetly it made your knees weak, gooey with warmth.

“You still gotta announce the winner. Not over ‘til you announce the winner.” Eddie grinned at you. For a second, you thought he might be kidding.

The look in his eye, that competitive edge that always lingered still sparked behind those muddy puddle eyes, told you he was serious.

A roll of your eyes was the only protest he got, half-hearted even at that. Your hand in his, you lifted his arm victoriously. “There. You’re the winner.” You let your hand fall with his. “Now, can I go change please, or do you need a formal victory an- oh.”

Eddie pulled you flush to him, lips on yours, a firm kiss that matched his grip on your hips. Passionate, hard, full of finality in his affection, the way he always kissed you after a victory match. Usually bloodied and sweatier, a busted lip that you had to maneuver, or spilt knuckles. Still, you’d always let him, scurrying to the ropes after his declared victory. You learned quickly after the first few matches if you didn’t go to him, he’d fight the crowd to come to you.

It was always how Eddie wanted to end his matches, celebrate his victories- with you. For all the brooding toughness, dirty cruelty and teasing, you knew he loved you. He knew you loved him, despite all your own flaws.

On the ride back, sharing a cigarette in the Jaguar, ash falling on the dark leathered seats, Eddie looked over at you, breaking the snug silence that settled between the two of you.

“Just for the record,” Eddie blew the smoke out the crack in the window, tapping the ash in the small compartment of the car, before passing the Marlboro to you. “I don’t like those fucking ring girls.”

You looked over at him, thumb circling the soft paper of the cigarette. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Eddie nodded, eyes cutting towards you briefly. “I don’t even look at them. I’m not… I got better shit to do.”

“Oh, yeah?” You snorted lightly, lips wrapping around the dwindling cigarette stick, pulling a slow drag.

“Yeah, gotta focus on winning.” Eddie scoffed like it was obvious. There was a pause, you letting the smoke fall past your lips into your own window crack. “Plus, y’know, got you at home. Not settling for them when I got the best.”

Your lips curled in a grin, fingertips tickling his knuckles when you passed him back the cigarette. “For the record,” You leaned onto the console, smug at how he stiffened, trying to play it off. “I’m not looking for anyone else either. Just said that to make you mad.”

“Of course, you did.” Eddie grumbled, rolling his eyes.You grinned, teeth sliding over your bottom lip. “I mean, you know I’m just messing with you.” You tuck a curl behind his ear, nail scratching gently over the shell of his ear. Eddie’s jaw clenched, fighting back a shudder. “Seriously. Why would I go look for some bum when I have the champ?”

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syoddeye · 1 month

Text

consequence / hyacinth

price x f!reader | 1.9k words series directory tags: exes, angst, references to depression. a/n: an ex boyfriend. a story. a kiss. ☕

a surprise trap door. an errant self-driving car. a jet engine falling from the sky. anything to get you out of this.

hyperbolic? maybe. necessary? absolutely. forty-five minutes, and you haven’t gotten a word in edgewise. ben drones on about his studio and his upcoming exhibition. you brought this on yourself by doing the polite thing and asking him how are you?—lesson learned.

it hurts. it blisters to hear how happy and successful he is and how he’s moved on from the breakup. as if he didn’t leave you hanging with a dinner you couldn’t afford after admitting that he cheated. he hasn’t asked about your wrist, your old flat, or your art career.

eventually, he stands. sets you free.

“i should go, long trip home,” he says, eyes glued to an incoming text. “it was lovely to catch up. thanks for holding onto this junk for me.” he hoists the box off the seat beside him and tucks it under an arm.

you let him kiss your cheek. “yeah. of course.”

he doesn’t look back. you wish you could do the same.

you order another cider and resolve to not remain looking like the miserable slump you are.

~~~~

>> are you in town?

>> if you are, i could use a drinking buddy

john’s hair is still damp when he spots her at a two-top in the garden, nursing a cider. he waves, then ducks inside for his own drink. his head buzzes with whatever this invite means.

he checked with the florist twice to ensure the flowers arrived intact at her place. made the woman on the phone read back his apologetic note and bit his tongue when she reminded him it wasn’t her ‘place to say whether it sounded good enough or not’. he never heard if she liked them.

there’s a stiffness to her smile but relief in her voice. “you came.”

“‘course.”

“how’re you?”

in six words or less, he knows something’s off. he eases onto the seat, trying to exude a sense of humor and not telegraph his one hundred questions. “undercaffeinated, but i’m more interested in how you’re doing.”

“i noticed you hadn’t stopped in.”

“didn’t think you wanted me to.”

“about that. it was rude of me to kick you out without warning.”

guilt isn’t what he wants. he adjusts course to shoulder the blame. “i crossed a line.”

she isn’t having it. “please, it was rude. i know you weren’t trying to…”

“cross a line? overstep?”

her mouth wavers undecided between a frown and a smile. “you didn’t know. i could’ve explained. spare you £45.”

you. little.

“so you did get them. the note, too?” she nods. “then why the radio silence? hyacinths a bad choice?”

“no, they’re perfect. i just. i sort of froze. i had a rough couple of days.”

the hangdog expression she hides with the glass makes his chest hurt. “i’ve been told i’m a decent listener.”

“it’s a long story.”

“i got time.” he offers quietly. “just got back. caught me in the shower, actually.”

her eyes narrow, curious. “did you dress and come straight here?”

“well, it’s generally frowned upon to walk around naked.”

he beams at her laugh, her shaking shoulders. for a moment, her whole face lights up. it relaxes her posture as it peters off, leaving her looking less like a cornered mouse than when he initially sat down.

“so.” john pushes carefully. “the paintings.”

her smile lapses into something unreadable, a pause to find the right place to begin. her fingers trace the table’s grate.

when she finally speaks, she refocuses. meets his eye. good. he doesn’t want to twist her arm to get the story. the tale starts innocently enough.

the woman is hannah, her best friend and a ceramicist. they met on the first day of her mfa and were paired for the terms project shortly thereafter. they quickly became inseparable, until his girl met ben.

“i can’t talk about hannah without talking about ben. to talk about ben, you need context.”

john leans in. his thick eyebrows lift in a silent go on.

“they say it happens when you’re not looking, right?” you nervously laugh, smiling at the table sheepishly, unable to meet his eye. “well, i met ben at a networking event. last place i thought i’d find a date, rubbing elbows with alumni. but he introduced himself, said he liked my portfolio book. told me about his work and all these shows he’d done. he took me to lunch the next day.”

you wince at the memory, crystal clear and acutely embarrassing. how starry-eyed you’d been. your throat dries, sandpaper scraping down your esophagus at the thought of ben scribbling his number on your wrist. you clear your throat.

“then he asked me to dinner. during lunch.”

if john’s disgusted or disappointed, he doesn’t show it. his self-control is infuriating yet reliable. steady where you’re shaky.

why can’t i be like that?

you push on.

“without diving into minutiae, i eventually had to introduce hannah and ben. they hounded me, because if i wasn’t with one, i was with the other.”

“jealous of each other.”

“i think so. i agonized. they’re big personalities, i thought they’d clash.” you replay their first meeting in your head. you have a thousand times. “and they did.”

‘differing artistic opinions’ and ‘absurd expectations’ are the root causes of the squabbling she describes. her words, not his.

(he thinks of less charitable ways to characterize interpersonal conflict.)

barrages of text messages competing for her attention. underhanded attempts to get her to cancel plans with the other. emergencies that turned out to be trivial. guilt trips. one particularly ugly screaming match at a mutual friend’s birthday.

(if it were him, he thinks, they’d’ve lost privileges long ago.)

“it took weeks for them to come around to the idea of each other.”

“what was the catalyst?

“me again.”

john hums. he watches her rest against the back of her seat, her arms crossing and tightening over her chest. compressing herself as much as she can. embarrassment rolls off her in waves. he doesn’t say a word, afraid he’ll cut what courage she’s mustered off at the knees.

she has her own idea.

“can we—are you finished?”

his glass is two-thirds empty, and he polishes off the rest. a fist squeezes his heart when her lip twitches at his abruptness. she makes it difficult to be collected with his interest.

“where to?”

“where else.”

it’s a challenge, defending oneself from an insistent, bullying cat. cece shows no mercy.

“she likes beards.”

“does she see many beards?”

“just a theory.” she leans against the cushions, watching him and the cat, a glass of water held in both hands. “yours is the only one she’s tried.”

in the end, after negotiations, cece loafs between them. her purr a white noise.

“where were we?” her tone suggests she knows precisely where.

“the truce and you.”

her eyes find a spot past his head to rest. he’s tempted to tilt his head into her line of sight, assuming that nudging her on home turf’s a safer bet than in public. but the hesitant, almost imperceptible exhale that leaves her keeps him still.

“alright. so. me.” her chest expands with another sigh. “i was already struggling two terms into school. really struggling. when i applied, i had this clear vision, but then classes started, i met my peers, and suddenly it felt like everything i thought i knew just disappeared. nothing looked right, nothing felt right. i pulled constant all-nighters. sat through brutal critiques. i’m lucky i had thick skin from my job, otherwise, i might have dropped out to join a convent or the circus.”

immediately, his mind conjures the image of a tattooed nun, swiftly followed by a tattooed strongwoman. his lip quirks. he hastily buries what those do for him. later.

their gazes meet briefly to share a smile.

she licks her lips after a drink and sets the glass aside.

“they realized their bickering wasn’t helping, so they put their heads together. kind of forced us to become the three musketeers. they helped me where they could, and things smoothed out between them in the process. he found her ceramics shows to exhibit. let her move her wheel into our joint space. we were in close quarters, and i needed it. i needed them.”

a couch width is suddenly too far a distance with how she crumples. something difficult passes over her face, and she excuses it with a shrug.

“despite their joint efforts, i barely scraped by that first year. i was burnt out, miserable, and i spent two weeks holed up alone, trying to not go off the rails.”

oh, sweetheart.

“where were they?”

“hannah was visiting family stateside, and ben was traveling for work.”

not that his schedule allows flexibility, not that he’s behaved the perfect partner in the past—but john knows instantly that he would not have left her. he’d’ve been there. the more he hears about ben, the more he wants to meet him. come to a violent understanding. impart a lesson or two on loyalty.

“when ben returned, he told me he decided to move here to ‘reconnect with the country’. something about ‘capturing and celebrating the bucolic’. he wanted long-distance, but i, uh, i said i’d rather quit and move with him. we fought and he called in reinforcements. at hannah and ben’s…encouragement, i finished out the term. and it nearly killed me. as you know, i withdrew.”

john often reads between the lines. a vital skill, interpreting indirect and unintended communication. what’s unsaid. shame pulls her inward again, a moment where she seems smaller. swallowed by the enormity of whatever she doesn’t say. can’t say.

“i know they were disappointed. they didn’t need to say anything. hannah felt abandoned, and ben burdened by my tagging along. i got this awful feeling the morning we left and i ignored it. i was convinced leaving school behind and taking a break from art would fix me.”

cece stretches, stands, and allows herself to be scooped up.

she holds the cat under its front legs, bringing their faces closer together. “but it’s like that saying or whatever. ‘wherever you go, there you are’. i got here. settled in. and i was still a loser.”

it’s instinct.

“you’re not–”

she bulldozes.

“i started working at the café. ben booked murals. he painted the big one a few streets over.”

he’s familiar. “the one with–?”

“yep.” she releases cece. “he tried to get me to paint. he begged me. but i couldn’t do it. things took a turn last summer when ben won a huge job in the city, which snowballed into an invitation to exhibit. hannah got busy with the final stretch of the program, and couldn’t visit much.”

“so you were alone again.”

“yeah.” her voice thins, then breaks. “alone again.” she digs the heels of her palms into her eyes before a single tear drops off her lashes.

john’s beside her before doubt seeds itself in his mind. one arm gathers her to his side, his chin lifting then settling atop her head when she tucks closer. his other arm winds around her, and the slight tremors of her distress ripple through him. she’s quiet, not quite sobbing, but sucking in deep breaths. he rubs her back in a slow circle, murmuring nothings.

“what do you need?” he asks as she gradually stills.

she sniffs.

“sleep.”

without thinking, he kisses the crown of her head. “okay.”

john only catches a glimpse as she hands him a quilt. but he sees them. blue hyacinths, pinned and drying above her bed.

“sorry. this is all i got. you set?”

he smiles at her sweet, tear swollen eyes.

“yeah. i’ve got all i need.”

#price x reader #price x f! reader #john price x f!reader #john price x reader #loser barista

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thegnomelord · 10 months

Note

here for the prompt game! (Seriously such a neat idea)

I’m thinking 26 with Ghost and Soap and an inexperienced male reader (could be trans if you want) who’s got an eager golden retriever vibe about him even if he doesn’t know as much as the other two. Also maybe some fluff on the side about reader maybe biting off more than they can chew and getting overwhelmed and Ghost and Soap could comfort him? Thanks!

Sure thing anon! sorry it took so long, couldn't figure out what to write; I decided to do an eldritch reader since I haven't written it in a while and I think it works with this prompt :D. Play the game HERE

Prompt: Pulling them closer by the back of the neck

CW: NSFW, Sub Top Male Eldritch Reader, Dom Bottom Ghost, Sub Bottom Soap, oral, anal, nonhuman genitalia, tentacles, first times.

You don't know how this happened; Ghost and Soap(primarily Soap) had taken upon themselves to introduce you to alcohol, and despite the knowledge you couldn't get drunk or even consume it like they could, you still drank down what was given to you just to see amusement dancing in their eyes as they tried to match you.

Then Johnny had leaned in and by the time your eternal mind had finished buffering you were stuck between two warm bodies, Soap's hands greedily pushing beneath your shirt, his mouth like a blistering star against your own, tongue prying your lips open to push cold liquor into your mouth and running over your teeth as a way to remind you to swallow.

And for the first time in over a millennia you are. . .uncertain.

You'd watched these little creatures for so long you had been certain you could match them, arrogant creature that you are, for what is an ant to a god?

But the moment you felt their touch, before even time had been able to register it, you froze. You felt naked; you feel naked, stripped bare of cloth and human flesh, their warmth stabbing through inky abyss to your core, to all that you are and will be.

Johnny pulls back with a wicked grin and you're left breathing like a newborn, your skin bulging in unnatural ways as you shift beneath, unsure of what to do, what to think, your mind desperate to feel more yet weary of it.

You forget how observant they are despite how short their lives are, "You olright?" Simon asks, his broad chest flush with your back, both of them warm like collapsing stars compared to your corpse like temperature.

"Yeah lad," Johnny leans a bit back, "Yer lookin' a wee bit tense." His palms lay flush along your ribs and he can almost feel you writhing beneath— it takes every bit of your consciousness not to reach out, not to tear through the flimsy layer of stolen skin to feel him, not to wrap them in your body and never let go.

"I. . ." You push out a breath, the air near your mouth crackling with static. "I don't know." Your eyes focus on Johnny only to widen when you notice how his mohawk has puffed up like a blow-dried cat. "Ah-I'm sorry."

Johnny looks at you incredulously, not aware by his appearance, "Sorry for whot?" His brows furrowed, "Hey, wee dinnea have to do this if yer havin' second thoughts."

You feel Simon shift to your side, still close but not suffocatingly so, his rough fingers on the nape of your neck, blunt nails scratching your skin. "Talk to us."

"I. . .I didn't think it would be this hard." You admit, gnawing on your bottom lip; some things are native to both gods and mortals, anxiety included.

"That's what she said." Johnny suddenly pipes up. "I- ow!" You assume it's some type of poorly timed joke by the way Ghost swats him over the head, turning a deaf ear to Johnny's whining about it hurting.

"What's the matter lovie?" Ghost pulls your attention like a lighthouse in a vast ocean of darkness, "Did'yea think fockin' would be easy from being a peeping Tom?" You'd gotten a talking to plenty of times about having watched them fuck when they'd thought you were a cat.

You lower your head, unable to meet his eyes; funny how a fly can make you feel so small. "Yeah."

Johnny quirks a grin, "Need some guidance then?" You're confused until Johnny's hands move, blissfully warm fingers tickling along your ribs before lightly tugging on your nipple, and though logically you shouldn't feel much in your skin suit, it still has you rippling beneath your skin, a sharp breath leaving your lungs. "Need us tae show yae how ta snog?"

"Snog?" You ask, barely able to make your tone sound confused, or even human for that matter.

"Roll in the hay," Ghost joins him, much slower, paw like hand tracing down the curve of your spine, "mate," His hand dips down to your thigh, sliding up to your hip and not even you are oblivious enough to not see the implication. "have sex," Simon leans in to your ear, breath fanning your flesh. "Fuck."

A nonhuman sound escapes your throat, leaving their bones shaking, but you hardly notice as the promise of having them, of touching them like none of your kin have before, makes your head nod automatically.

"Use your words godling," Simon orders, and the second a 'yes' comes from your mouth Johnny's descending on you like a wolf, your teeth clacking together, tongue pushing past your lips to explore your mouth all over again, blunt nails scratching down your sides.

You kiss him back despite how uncoordinated you are, trying to retake the breath he's stealing from you, and the moment Johnny pulls back, panting, Simon is there. A firm hand on the back of your neck pulls you to meet Ghost's lips, rough and demanding, already so familiar that deaf and blind you'd be able to tell them apart.

You melt between them, between their lips and their touches, not even noticing how drops of liquid abyss pushes past your pores; fingers turning into claws to help disrobe them, eyes spreading across your body to see both of their reactions as you touch and feel, teeth elongating and filling all the corners of your mouth better mark them, tongue elongating and darkening to push as deep into Soap's tight heat as you can, each twist and turn of your monstrous tongue making Soap whine and pant and moan like a receptive mate, viscous saliva staining his shaking thighs and marking him as yours.

Your mind only returns when you feel Ghost's rough hand on your cock, what should be a normal human mating organ turned ridged and bumpy, squirming like an eel in his hand, your viscous precum leaving his skin tingling. "Fuck, I-" You jump, tongue still lodged deep in Johnny's ass, your voice ringing all around and gently shaking the ground.

"Easy there," Ghost shushes you like a frightened stallion, not even a bit unnerved by your current condition. The booze you'd all drank helps to make their minds more receptive to your existence, the horrific sight of bits of you pushing out of your human skin only tickling their skulls.

"Think he's stretched enough," Ghost strokes you a few more times, before a firm hand on your nape makes you pull your head back, slowly dragging your foot long tongue out despite how desperately Johnny's walls clench down on you— it has you salivating to have your mouth on him again.

"Ghost." You manage out, every bit of you shuddering from the look he gives you, by the way he tugs you closer by your cock until your tip's tickling Johnny's well lubed entrance.

"Fuck, look how desperate you've made him." Ghost's words make your eyes, all your eyes, focus on Johnny; pleasure makes your chest burn hot with how fucked out he looks, panting like he's in heat, drool running down his chin, eyes bleary and unfocused, whole body boneless and splayed out for you.

"Shite," Soap pants, barely able to catch your gaze, spreading his legs even wider for you, his hand roughly pawing at his own cock. "C'mon- fock- just please, let me- need you-"

"Go on godling," Ghost growls, trusting you to follow his orders so he takes his place by Johnny's head, his dick hard and red right in front of Johnny's lips. "Take 'im."

You don't dare refuse, pushing your hips forward, your writhing cock seeking out his hole, easily slipping inside. Immediately pleasure bangs on your skull, on your mind, like a hammer, distant stars cracking from how you groan, sinking inch after inch into him. Your shaft squirms inside, squirming, stretching, feeling every inch of his walls and when you slam inside that tight heat fully Johnny screams.

You stop all at once, the temperature in the room dropping, your nonexistent heart shredding itself at the thought of having hurt them— only to feel Johnny bucking his hips into yours, his arousal sticking to your tongue like honey.

"Aye, he's a slag," Simon laughs, guiding his tip to Soap's mouth and having him immediately latch on, plump lips wrapping tightly around Simon's large shaft and bobbing his head. "Yea can go rougher, he likes the pain."

Wearily, you snap your hips, your strength far surpassing theirs, almost doubling over at how he clenches around you like a vice and moans in such a sacrosanct way. Even with Ghost's cock half-way down his throat, Johnny tries to beg you to move, pretty tears in his eyes awakening something deep and hungry inside you.

Your flesh suit moves on it's own and you're unable to do anything else but follow and feel, burning every sound you tear from Johnny's occupied mouth into your eternal memory, each praise that falls from Ghost's lips as you hammer into the hot willing body beneath you making you edge closer and closer towards release, your claws leaving red bleeding lines where you grip his shaking legs to keep him stable.

You don't even notice when you lean down, the 'crack' of bone Johnny's only warming before the newly formed maw at your torso envelops his leaking cock. The taste of his precum, like sweetened communal wine, floods your senses, your tongue hanging out of your mind as you brainlessly hump into him, barely able to catalogue each little twitch of his legs when you pound him in just the right spot.

You cum incredibly fast, centuries later you'll be embarrassed at how poorly you lasted, but right now all your attention, all your focus, all you are, boils down to them— their scents, their low groans, their moans, the blissful heat of Johnny's walls clenching down on you as you slam your hips into his and cum, flooding his receptive body with your seed.

Johnny cums as quickly as you, shooting his cum into your awaiting mouth and into the darkness between stars where your true body resides, small little gurgles coming from him as he swallows down Simon's own release.

You collapse on top of him, your mind empty for the first time since your birth, carnal pleasure having reduced you to nothing but an animal. There are so many eyes all over your body yet not one of them can look at Ghost without his silhouette doubling in your vision, your body so sensitive that even a brush of his hand across your sweaty skin has you moaning softly.

"That's a good god," Ghost snorts, ruffling your sweaty hair. Then his fingers slide down, carefully avoiding poking the numerous eyes as he grips your chin, making you look at him. "D'yea think you can go again? This one is far from done." He hums, noting how Johnny's hip continues to twitch into yours despite how fucked out he is.

You don't know how much you have in you, but you're about to find out. . .

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