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hanbinics · 7 days

Text

pairing ⟶ !neighbor matt x !fem reader

contents ⟶ smut, oral (m receiving), !sub matt, !shy matt.

word count ⟶ 2.5k

pt. one found here.

you think about matt for weeks—the image of him pressed up against the dryer, t-shirt tucked between perfect teeth while his head drops forward to watch the way he fists his own cock, pretty blue eyes screwed shut in absolute bliss as he comes. it’s been haunting you ever since to the point that some nights you’ve found yourself lying awake, fingers creeping into your pajamas to ease the ache your cute neighbor has caused between your thighs—except it’s never enough.

you try to catch the brunette a few nights a week when your schedule allows it, but to no avail. part of you wonders if he’s avoiding you, but for what? you’re sure he hadn’t seen you that night, that he has no idea you’d watched him come into the fabric of one of your favorite pair of panties. maybe he’s just embarrassed that he’d done such a lewd act. or maybe the universe just hates you.

by the end of the second week since that night, you’re close to giving up on running into the brunette by chance. you’re already considering just going to his apartment and knocking on the door to straight up confront him about what you saw—you’re that desperate. but as you carry a new basket of clothes down to the laundry room and push open the door with one foot, your mind going crazy with exhaustion, you realize with a little start that you don’t have to.

standing at the same dryer you’d saw him at just a few weeks ago is matt, the taller boy not noticing you right away. he’s looking down at his phone while he leans against one of the washers, this time facing you, one earbud tucked in while he nods his head along gently to whatever song he’s listening to. the sight of him has your heart rate picking up in your chest, sinking your teeth into the soft flesh of your lower lip to suppress a little smile; finally, luck is on your side.

when you shuffle forward to set your basket down on top of one of the washers, you purposely make the action a little louder than you might normally. it serves its purpose when you notice matt glance up at you from across the room, blue eyes widening slightly in surprise and his cheeks almost immediately flushing a soft shade of pink. you can’t help but find the sight adorable.

“hey,” you greet him, deciding to take the first stab. it’s clear to you that he’s a little shy to some degree—not shy enough that he can’t jerk his own cock in a shared laundry unit, but still.

matt seems to pause in surprise when you greet him, like he’s unsure you’re talking to him despite there being no one else in the room. when the realization dawns on him, he blinks, that blush deepening. “oh—uh, hey.”

this time you can’t suppress the smile that twitches on your mouth as he stutters. you can’t believe this is the same boy that was just pleasuring himself with your laundry a few weeks ago—or maybe you can. he had been awfully whiny through his orgasm.

the room is mostly silent as you begin to throw a load of your laundry into the washing machine, save for the gentle whirring noises filling the space between you. you can tell matt is trying not to watch, that he’s being careful about the way he glances up at you every so often, but you pretend not to notice for his sake. you find it to be incredibly cute anyway.

a few minutes pass before you finally decide you’re going to make the first move, it being incredibly obvious that he isn’t going to. “do you usually wait this late to do your laundry?”

at your question, matt looks up, blinking a few times. he looks like a deer in the headlights until he recognizes the teasing lilt to your voice, the small smile twitching at the corners of your mouth.

it has his body easing up a bit as he shrugs his shoulders shyly. “well, uh—not usually, no,” he admits, but he almost looks uncomfortable as he answers, like he’s choosing his words carefully. “i jus’ had some extra time tonight, so...” he trails off, but you get the gist.

humming softly in response, you nod your head in understanding, finally filling the washing machine adequately enough that you can start your load of laundry. it’s then that you brace your hands on the sides of your laundry basket, taking in the sight of matt standing a few feet away from you, unable to hold your gaze entirely.

“hey, have you noticed anything weird down here lately?”

matt’s brows draw together in mild confusion. “weird?” he echoes.

you nod your head. “yeah—like.. a few weeks ago, i noticed i was missing some laundry when i came back to get my stuff. isn’t that strange?” you breathe out, feigning concern.

the whole time you’re talking, you’re slowly making your way around the machines and towards matt. you’re so subtle about it, your tone and expression so captivating, that the brunette doesn’t even have time to comprehend the way you’re slinking towards him like a cat stalking its prey until you’re standing directly in front of him, arms crossed over your chest and your head tilted to the side.

matt’s mouth goes dry as he takes in your expression, his lips parting to offer a lie—that he hasn’t noticed anything, that he hasn’t been down here much at all lately—but you beat him to it before he can.

“choose your next words carefully, matt,” you suggest, his breath hitching in his throat when your fingers reach for the waistband of his jeans. “good boys get to come; liars don’t.”

as you sink to your knees in front of him, your eyes never leave his, even as your fingers work to unbutton his jeans, pulling his zipper down to reveal the front of his boxer briefs with a decently sized damp patch on the front of them. your eyes widen slightly in delight at the sight, a small smile on your mouth as you look up at him.

“already so excited for me, baby,” you coo up at him, fingers brushing over the wet fabric of his underwear. he’s looking down at you, faced crinkled in desperation, and it only makes you want him in your mouth more. “have you been thinking about this?”

matt nods from above you almost immediately, pretty blue eyes glued to the sight of your fingers slowly rolling down the waistband of his boxers. “yes—fuck yes,” he hisses at the friction, eyebrows drawn together as he braces himself against the dryer behind him while you pull him from his boxers, eyes widening the slightest bit.

“been thinkin’ about y’pretty mouth, baby,” matt all but whimpers, but you’re momentarily distracted by the sight of him.

the brunette isn’t abnormally large by any means, but who is? you’re still taken aback by the decent girth of his cock, the round cap of his tip flushed red against his otherwise pale skin, leaking precum that has you so eager, you can’t resist the urge to lean forward and steal a taste for yourself.

as soon as your tongue makes contact with his sensitive cock, matt’s hips buck gently towards your face, a strangled noise leaving his mouth. “shit, baby, you can’t—can’t just do that with no warnin’,” he whines down at you, but you simply giggle in return. you hadn’t meant to catch him off guard, but now you can’t suppress the desire to suck him dry anymore.

“’m sorry,” you offer anyway, looking up at the brunette from beneath your lashes. but you certainly don’t seem all that sorry when you lead forward to offer a tantalizing kiss to the tip of his cock, lingering there for a moment with your hand wrapped around his shaft before you’re pushing your mouth forward.

matt watches the obscene way in which your lips spread over his dick, spreading his precum while you sink his shaft into your eager mouth. your palm is wrapped firmly around what you can’t quite fit, making sure not to neglect him as you begin to stroke him at the same time your pretty mouth sets a steady rhythm on his cock.

soft whimpers escape his mouth as he grips the white steel behind him, the tips of his fingers getting lighter from his tight hold. part of him is still afraid to touch you, but as your fingers work up the length of his shaft, he gains a sense of confidence through his pleasure. reaching down, he gently runs his fingers through your hair before gripping it very lightly. it feels like it’s the most he can do, as he just wants to touch you, but it’s hard to focus when every nerve in his body is standing on end, waiting for the pin to drop.

you, on the other hand, are in no rush. your tongue works the underside of matt’s shaft, paying extra attention to the veins you can feel there. you make sure to squeeze him every now and then in your hand, timing it for when your mouth travels back up to the head of his cock, sucking particularly hard there like it’s your favorite piece of candy.

you look especially fucking sinful like this, your eyes shiny with unshed tears from every time you try to push the boundary of just how much you can take of him, pretty lips glistening with the saliva beginning to collect at the corners of your mouth. he has to bite down hard on his lower lip to keep himself quiet, but it doesn’t fully stifle the soft whimpers falling from his mouth as he gently rocks his hips towards your face in search of any extra attention he can get from your eager lips, your tongue.

when he feels your nose brush against his pubic bone, matt’s mouth falls open, a breathy noise escaping it. “ah—shit, pretty, ‘m so fuckin’ close,” he admits with a wince as he looks down at you, the hand that isn’t tangled in your soft hair coming down to cup your cheek instead.

matt watches with slightly wide blue eyes as his confession only seems to spur you on, your pace on his cock quickening while one hand that had been resting on his thigh moves to cup his balls instead. matt’s hips nearly rock into your face too hard at the sensation, a choked groan bubbling up from his throat when he feels the head of his dick brush against the back of your throat, causing you to choke around his length, throat constricting so nicely around him.

his thumb brushes over your cheek in apology, but when the tip nears the corner of your mouth, it’s like he suddenly can’t help the idea that comes to mind. it’s experimental, the way he teases your lips. he’s just sort of caressing the area at first, but soon enough he’s easing the tip of his thumb inside your mouth along with his length, and ultimately, that’s what does it for him. the sight of you taking in more than he thought possible, the feeling of him sliding in and out of your mouth with his added digit is enough to unravel that tight knot in his stomach, his eyes wide as his fingers tap frantically against your cheek in an inadequate warning that he’s coming.

“fuck, ‘m—” but he doesn’t get to finish, at least not verbally. instead he’s pulling his thumb from your mouth so that he can grip both sides of your head gently, holding you down on his shaft while thick, warm ropes of his cum eases into your pretty mouth and down your throat, painting the inside like his favorite picture.

you nearly choke on his sudden release, not having entirely expected him to come just yet, but you don’t. you relax your throat instead, letting him spill down the narrow passage, your lips slipping down his shaft until you’re cradling his tip between them instead, milking the pretty boy dry until you think he might be too sensitive.

matt’s breathing is uneven, and he can’t help the whimper he lets out when you finally release him from your mouth, the slick pop from his sensitive tip making him wince, though not entirely in discomfort. his entire body is flushed as he watches you take care of him, tucking the brunette back into his boxers carefully before you’re standing up from your sore knees, thumb cleaning up some of him around your mouth and easing it onto your tongue instead.

you can’t help the little smile on your face as you lean into his chest, teeth grazing over your lower lip. “good?” you hum teasingly, because you know it was, but you like the pretty pink color tinting his otherwise pale cheeks as you lean forward to deliver a soft kiss to his mouth, liking the fact that he doesn’t seem to mind the taste of himself you’re sure is still lingering.

matt breathes out a choked laugh, embarrassment still visible on his features. when he looks down at you, he takes note of some of the tears half-dried on your cheeks, your lips a little swollen and reddening in color from the head you’d just given him.

“’m sorry if i pushed you too hard there,” he mumbles quietly, thumb brushing over your cheek. he tries not to think about the way he’d just had it in your mouth with his cock because as sensitive as he still is, he’s almost afraid he could get hard again.

but you don’t seem to mind, shaking your head dismissively and offering a quiet hum as you lean into his touch, eyes closing briefly in content. you only open them again when you hear matt let out a little oh, your head tilting to the side when he takes his hand from your face and digs into his pocket instead, it being a few seconds before he’s emerging again with a lacy fabric dangling from his long fingers, cheeks pink and a knowing smile on his lips.

“i, uh—‘m thinkin’ these belong to you,” he teases, delivering the same panties he’d taken from you just a few weeks ago as you laugh, looking up at him in mild confusion.

when you take the panties back, he shrugs his shoulders shyly. “was gonna return ‘em to you when you left tonight... try to sneak ‘em back into your basket without you knowing, but...” he trails off for a moment as his gaze falls to your mouth again, like he’s replaying the image of you with his cock in your mouth all over again.

your mouth twitches up into a small smirk, raising an eyebrow. “didn’t think the night was gonna end like this?” you tease him, watching the way he breathes out a little laugh, head dipping towards you subtly.

“nah—you kiddin’ me? this was much better,” he mumbles just before pressing his mouth to yours, this time much sweeter than before.

©hanbinics

: ̗̀➛ divider by @/strangergraphics

: ̗̀➛ tag list: @chris-hallelujah

#©hanbinics #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo blurb #matt sturniolo drabble #matt sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets x reader

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chelseeebe · 6 months

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we can’t be friends.

a little fake dating situation in which eddie must pretend to be your boyfriend to keep up pretences, but then feelings start to become hazy and now he’s not sure if you could ever be just friends again.

a/n: i’m reading this back and actually not liking it as much as i first did hahahaah but i hope you enjoy!! i just wanted to reiterate my hate for the duffers and the fact that they didn’t give him any other t-shirt other than that dang hellfire one>:(

18+. mdni. smut. mentions of bad parent/s. modern au i guess but it’s hardly mentioned. no use of y/n!

eddie wasn’t expecting to walk in to you so stressed.

it was the usual thursday movie night but you’d answered the door with a green complexion and the look of a deer in headlights.

“what’s wrong?” he perplexes, shutting the door behind him as you continue to pace the living room floor.

you sigh, blinking at him as you stop for a few seconds. you’re contemplating something, sizing him up with your eyes narrowed. it makes him a little unsettled if he’s honest.

“next week, are you free?”

“what?” wondering what the hell that had to do with your nervous exterior.

“are you free?” you press.

“uh.. probably, why?” not an inch of sense in your words.

“you wanna come on vacation with me? i mean- it’s not so much a vacation but a family reunion, but can you come?” chewing on your fingernail.

“when? what? why?” rattling through all of his questions all at once.

you sigh again, frustrated with his lack of understanding, “family reunion, i can’t do it alone eds..” your hands cycle around the air, “josh was supposed to come with me but obviously.. that’s not happening so can you come?”

eddie’s face finally un-scrunches. it all made sense now.

you’d spoken enough about your crazy parents and subsequently just why you’d moved halfway across the country to get away from them to understand why you didn’t want to go on your own.

he’d also been elated when you’d told him that you and josh had broken up. eddie had never liked him, in fact, if were given the chance, he thinks he’d punch him square in the face.

that hadn’t really helped you of course, so he kept it mostly to himself. but if the opportunity were ever to arise, he’d do it. no shame.

“oh, shit, why didn’t you just ask me in the first place?” he laughs, rolling in his eyes in jest as he collapses on the couch.

“i’ve asked everyone.. and i mean, everyone and they couldn’t, i was scared!” your body relaxes, coming to join him on the couch.

“oh thanks,” eddie scoffs, “so i was the last resort?”

“no,” you prod him in the side, “i didn’t think you’d wanna come, that’s all.”

“yeah right,” chuckling as you hand him a beer, “i don’t mind, i’ll suffer for you,” popping the lid off and taking a swig.

“thank you,” you exhale, leaning back against the couch, “really. it means a lot.”

“so what are we doing? skiing? sightseeing?” eddie probes, making himself comfortable.

you scoff, “oh no, it’s at my aunt’s beach house in illinois.. it’s big enough for you to have your own room and shit, you’ll just have to pretend to like craft beer and talk baseball with my dad.”

eddie’s head hits the back of the couch, groaning loudly, “baseball? man, i dunno if i can make it anymore.”

you throw him the dirtiest glare, “you’re not funny.”

despite your words, he falls into a fit of laughter truly not making your scowl any lesser. he knows you appreciate him deep down, given the fact that you hadn’t hit him yet.

the drive across indiana isn’t too bad, eddie only wishes he hadn’t let you control the music for the entirety of the journey.

“just..” you exhale, glancing warily over at him from the passenger seat, “just be normal, okay? don’t let them piss you off,” nodding with every word.

“you don’t trust me?” he grins, earning a deathly glare. “i won’t piss them off.. don’t worry,” turning his sarcastic mocking into kindness.

your eyes squeeze shut before you slide out of the door, doubting your choice to bring eddie along.

your parents open the door with a wide smile and their arms extended, pulling you in before looking over at eddie, obviously slightly taken aback with the man at their door.

he offers his hand out, “i’m eddie, nice to meet you sir,” feeling very judged and not at all surprised, not with all your horror stories.

your dad takes his hand, gripping on tight as he eyes him up and down, “so this is the boyfriend,” humming quietly, “it’s good to finally meet you, son.”

eddie freezes, eyes sliding from your parents to you to find you in the exact same position.

boyfriend?

“uh..” you fumble, mouth opening and closing somewhat like a fish, “yes! yes.. this is him,” chuckling nervously.

oh shit.

his week of rest and relaxation was about to become a week of performing and lies.

you watch eddie anxiously, your eyes speaking a thousand words. praying he doesn’t mess up, doesn’t embarrass you in front of them.

“yeah.. yeah, that’s me,” he nods hurriedly, going to shake your mom’s hand, “lovely to meet you.. miss.”

now eddie wasn’t opposed to pretending to be your boyfriend but fuck, really? he needed at least a week to prepare and rehearse, rather than you throwing him into a week of improvisation at a whim.

the literal second the door to your shared bedroom shuts, eddie spins on his heel, jaw clenched with an exasperated expression.

“what the fuck?” he whispers, rather loudly.

“i’m sorry!” you hush back, eyes wide, “i- i.. i didn’t have a choice! fuck, i’m really sorry,” anger turning to regret as you flop onto the bed, head in hands.

well great. now he feels guilty. you’re almost sobbing when he joins you on the bed, pressing his lips together in frustration.

“hey! it’s fine.. it’s fine,” he assures, “shit, it’ll be fun,” bumping his shoulder into yours playfully.

you sniffle pathetically, looking up at him with tearful eyes, “i’m really sorry.. i panicked,” bottom lip wobbling.

god, you look like the reincarnation of bambi.

his heart pangs, guilt wracking his chest for the slight overreaction.

“i know,” nodding slightly, “it’s okay.. it’ll be funny, you know?” he’s not sure that it’ll be anymore funny than it’ll be stressful, but he’s prepared to see this week through.

for you.

it’s the little things that make a relationship a relationship. things eddie hadn’t ever considered.

like the seemingly insignificant touches and the casual kisses. all things he now had to meticulously plan and prepare for.

nothing was ever too much. a gentle peck on the cheek or a graze of the knee. things no one would really notice unless you weren’t doing them.

you grab his hand walking to the table for dinner and he almost starts cackling until he remembers, now hoping that his palm wasn’t sweating too much.

that night in bed, you turn to face him, tiny smile creeping onto your face, “i think my cousin likes you, i mean- did you see the look on her face when you walked into dinner?”

eddie lets his phone fall onto his chest, flabbergasted at your suggestion, “what are you talking about?”

you hit his arm, furrowing your brows, “c’mon, she was totally checking you out, don’t pretend you didn’t notice,” rolling your eyes in jest.

if he’s honest, he really didn’t notice.

he’d been too preoccupied by you in that damn dress to care about anyone else at the table.

eddie didn’t get to see you dressed up often and the dress was sitting just right, he couldn’t exactly focus on much else.

“oh, are you getting jealous?” he mocks.

you tut, shaking your head, “maybe after we’ve fake-broken up you two can get together.”

“you are jealous,” he laughs, sliding his phone onto the nightstand and settles into bed, “what if i don’t wanna fake-break up?” only half-serious as he says it.

“well then i’ll get a fake-restraining order against you,” poking your tongue out before turning the lamp off. “goodnight, eddie,” he can hear the smile in your voice as you roll over.

there’s a quiet, niggling little voice somewhere in the back of his mind. or maybe it’s his heart speaking.

whatever it is, he doesn’t feel the need to acknowledge it. at least not right now anyway.

eddie supposes that a vacation at your aunt’s beach house would entail seeing you in little clothing but he can’t help the little woah from leaving his mouth when you walk out of the bathroom in a tiny bikini top.

“don’t be fucking weird,” you frown, eyes trailing down to his hot dog swimming trunks.

“i’m not!” he exclaims, still trying to draw his eyes away from your chest, “i’ve just never seen.. them,” eyes widening at your revealing bikini.

your eyes roll to the back of your head, expressing your disgust with a small groan.

the entire day is made significantly harder by your top, or lack thereof. eddie finds his gaze slipping downward and every so often has to remind himself that he’s not actually your boyfriend and he doesn’t have the rights to ogle you.

it’s just hard to focus on a thing your dad says to him when you’re sat in front of him like that.

his limits are tested when your cousin suggests a game of tennis. already calling eddie for her team as you get into position on the opposite side of the court.

perhaps you were right, her unnecessary, constant touching sent alarm bells ringing in his head. not that he’s paying it any mind, too distracted by your chest as you bound around the court.

so much so, he completely misses the ball, letting it bounce off of the court and into a hedge somewhere.

“eddie!” she shrieks, running off to collect the ball.

your eyes lock from over the net, your brows threaded together, “how about we swap teams? you join me,” pointing your finger at his face, gesturing for him to join you, which he does with a smile.

mostly just glad to be away from her wandering hands but also, he gets to prove a point.

“you are jealous,” eddie smirks, hushed tones as he speaks into your ear. you’re so close now, enough to touch.

he wants to.

he wants to so bad.

even if it were just to make your cousin seethe with envy.

“me? never,” smacking your racket gently at his leg, earning a nasty glare from your unhappy cousin who smacks the ball far too harshly towards him.

he’s too hot and bothered to do much after such an exciting game of tennis, walking in stride with you as you enter the large house. blabbering away about something or nothing when your mom announces her presence rather loudly.

“oh god,” pulling a face as she eyes your outfit, “you really should coverup sweetie, nobody wants to see that,” cackling away to herself.

eddie’s floored, utterly stunned that she’d ever say something like that, let alone to your face. your despairing expression stabs him in the heart, choking him from the inside out.

“well i do,” grinning at the lady in front of him.

“of course you do, you’re a man,” the older woman sighs, “i think it’s a little disgusting to just.. have everything out there,” gesturing to your chest, “women should have pride in their appearance, you know?”

you blink, chewing the inside of your lip as you nod. shrinking into yourself as you glide up the stairs. in an ideal world, he’d call her a bitch and move on with his life, however, he supposes that probably wouldn’t be wise.

she tuts, shaking her head at the stairs, “she’s always so offended.. can’t say a thing to her.”

eddie bites his tongue, diverting from what he truly wanted to say to offer some mild criticism, “maybe you shouldn’t have said anything at all,” shrugging as he flies past her and up the stairs, hot on your trail.

the bedroom’s empty though the en-suite door is closed, a muffled sniff coming from the other side. he hates that she’s made you cry, that she’s capable of even making you feel bad when you had absolutely zero reason to.

his knuckles rap against the door, pressing his cheek to the wood, “it’s me.”

there’s a small scuffle and then the lock clicks though the door remains closed. having to console you after the amazing afternoon you’d had feels wrong.

he creeps inside, closing the door behind him. you’re slouched on the toilet, tears leaking down your warm cheeks. it’s a punch to the gut to see you like this. all those harsh stories you’d recalled to him suddenly made a shit ton of sense.

“you okay?” eddie asks, the answer already overwhelmingly obvious.

“yeah,” you sigh, wiping your sodden cheeks, sniffling for good measure.

“you shouldn’t listen to her,” he affirms, perching on the bathtub, “don’t let her upset you.. it’s not worth it,” although his words probably fall on deaf ears, you already know this.

“i know..” staring up at him with your puppy dog eyes, “i’m sorry, she just.. ugh,” snarling your lip, “she knows how to make me feel like shit.”

“what the hell are you apologising to me for?” eddie jokes, poking you in the arm, “she’s just jealous,” choosing wisely where to go from here, “she doesn’t look as good as you do and she doesn’t like that.”

his words crack a tiny smile on your lips, mission accomplished.

“thanks,” you nod, “i mean that. thank you for even coming with me.. i couldn’t do it without you.”

his heart swells a little, or a lot really.

this is a dangerous game, he thinks. wanting nothing more than to cradle you in his arms.. blur the boundaries a little more.

how much more blurred could they possibly get before eddie had to admit to his feelings?

he’s not sure he wants to find out.

on reflection, it had been a pretty good week. at least eddie thinks so, pretending to be your boyfriend wasn’t exactly normal or anything he’d ever pictured himself doing. but he’s enjoyed it nonetheless.

despite a new found, deep hatred for your mother, he doesn’t think the rest of your family were that bad. willing to volunteer for any other vacations you might be forced to drag him on.

nowhere near as testing as he once thought it would be. in reality, the hardest part about it all was that he had to go home alone tomorrow.

as both of you lounge on the bed, the tv prattling on in the background, he smiles, gently elbowing you in the side.

“y’know this week has been fun,” reminiscing on all the stupid things he’s had to do to sell this story.

one night, you had helped yourself to a little too much wine. stumbling all over the vast garden as your family watched on in horror. so eddie did what any good boyfriend would do and slung you over his shoulder, giggling into his back as he manoeuvred his way up to your room.

not only the public displays of affection come back to him, but also the seemingly minuscule ones. where only you were involved. sneaky laughs and glances that only the two of you could understand.

“mhm,” you hum, sliding your bookmark into your book, “it has, thank you for doing this,” before leaning over to place your book onto the bedside table.

“i’ve enjoyed it,” he meets your eye, that same uncomfortable fluttering starts again in his chest, “being your ‘boyfriend’ i mean.”

you shuffle, turning to face him properly, “well.. i’ve enjoyed being your girlfriend,” lips twitching into a smile.

there’s something in the silence, a tension that feels ready to burst.

eddie does something he might live to regret, something so idiotic and foolish that put your entire friendship at risk.

he leans forward, hastily connecting your lips in what must be the world’s most awkward kiss.

you hesitate for too long of a moment, jerking your head back to stare into his eyes.

he’s done it. he’s ruined the single best thing he had left.

an apology begins to form on his tongue but your lips silence him, your hand finding his cheek to bring him closer. eddie’s eyes fall shut, slowly accepting this, that you wanted it too.

he repositions himself, at your mercy as you tug on his hair, now hovering above your body, elbows sinking into the mattress.

he can feel you now, your chest brushing against his, the way your heart rate seems to match his, thumping away in your chest.

“we should.. we should stop,” eddie pulls away, breathlessly panting with your lips still tracing over one another.

“no.. no,” you shake your head, your eyes shiny and full of something he can’t place.

“what?”

“kiss me again,” you demand.

he’s not quite certain he’s hearing you right. fear had forced him to tear himself away but now you were asking for him to do it again?

eddie falters for a second too long, forcing you into kissing him, smashing your lips to his as your fingers scramble to find the back of his neck under his hair.

oh my god oh my god oh my god.

your entire family are in this house and he’s going to desecrate this innocent bed with you, his fake-girlfriend.

he feels your knee slide up his thigh, allowing him more space between your legs. now it’s more than just your chests meshed together, his poor sweatpants tightening with every slight buck of your hips. blood rushing to his cock as you gasp and sigh into his mouth.

he has to pull himself back into the room when your hand slides from his neck to his crotch, lightly tracing over his throbbing cock.

making out could be easily laughed off but this- this was serious.

“you.. you wanna do this?” he asks, gasping for breath as you continue to kiss at the side of his mouth.

“i want to do this,” you reaffirm, dipping your hand into the waistband of his sweatpants, drawing out a hoarse groan from his throat.

your hand wraps around the base of his cock, leaving a trail of kisses to his jaw.

his eyelids flutter, struggling to stay open as you start pumping your fist, thumb circling his leaking tip.

“oh my god,” eddie breathes, jolting his hips into your fist.

this entire week he had been internalising all of these intrusive thoughts and feelings about you and now it felt like he might genuinely cum all over your hand, not even five minutes into this.

it doesn’t at all help when you’re panting and writhing around underneath him, delicate fingers making him feel like he’s flying.

“f-fuck,” he stutters, grabbing your forearm, “you have to stop,” regaining just enough composure to reopen his eyes.

“why?” concern rippling through your voice.

now he falters, gazing into your lust filled eyes, pupils all blown out and crazy. it would be despicable if he were to divulge his embarrassing secret to you.

so he takes your arm, pinning it above your head before starting his descent, a paper chain of kisses and light grazings down your neck and chest.

it’s entirely too intimate for just friends, fake relationship or not.

“oh,” you sigh, head rolling back onto the pillow.

eddie has control now, regaining power without a damn clue of what to do with it. your shorts come down with his free hand with a little help from you, your ankle now comes to rest on his shoulder.

he should feel stronger than he does, rather more intimidated and fearful that he’s going to disappoint.

“please..” you pout, “please touch me,” he wonders if you can sense his anxiety.

he lets go of his grip on your wrist, trailing down your quivering body until he meets your lower stomach. this new position allows him access to your heat, wet and waiting for him.

“shit,” he mutters, sliding a solitary finger between your slick folds, watching as your chest heaves in response. “you’re so pretty,” he can’t help but blurt out.

“shut up and touch me,” you snap, chasing his touch with your hips.

eddie’s not going to deprive you of that now, is he?

circling around your clit, noting the way you groan and grab onto his arm. not that he thinks that there’ll ever be a second time for this.

your eager hands grab at his sweatpants, hoping that that’ll be enough of a hint.

he’s not going to last long, that’s for certain.

fed up with his stalling, you tug his sweatpants down, aiding him in sliding them off and onto the floor with a muffled thump.

your arms fan out across the mattress, glancing down at the minimal space between your bodies and then back into his eyes.

his entire body shudders as he slides into your eager cunt, bumbling through all of the profanity in his vocabulary. watching as your jaw falls slack, wary that you couldn’t make too much noise.

perhaps it was the fact that he’d been brushing off any even slightly sexual thought for an entire week or maybe it was just true but eddie swears that no one had ever felt this good before.

“fuck,” he wails, hips slamming against the backs of your thighs, digging his fingertips into the soft, mailable flesh of your hip.

just the way you grip onto the blanket makes him dizzy, letting his eyesight go hazy, a blurred picture of you sprawled underneath him.

the pleasure is insurmountable, something snapping in his stomach when your hand reaches out for him, gripping onto his forearm.

“eds,” you gasp, just loud enough over his barely contained grunts, “more,” sickening eyes doing all the work for you.

there’s not much more of him left to give, already nudging against your soft spot, repositioning your calf higher on his shoulder to allow him deeper, receiving a sweet whimper in return.

“yeah,” you pant, over and over, fingernails latching onto his skin. his arms start to shake, still holding himself up over you as his orgasm begins to catch up with him.

“shit.. i don’t- i don’t think..” eddie swallows, struggling to stay composed as you tighten around him, looking up at him through batting eyelashes.

it makes his stomach twist, barely able to move as his high comes crashing down, overtaking his senses, sweaty bodies colliding as he collapses on top of you.

“oh shit.. oh my god,” he whines, release painting your thigh, the sheet and even your fucking t-shirt.

he’s not ready for a child but he’s certain that’d have been worth it.

eddie glances at you, subsequently moving from your body onto the mattress. the entire high he had been feeling comes tumbling down, now faced with the reality that you were no longer just friends.

the ceiling becomes incredibly interesting, both of you avoiding eye contact as the silence somehow grows louder.

for a room that was just full of lewd, filthy noises, it sure is quiet now.

the blanket rustles and eddie dares a peek, you stand at the edge of the bed, disheveled and still slightly flustered.

you look down at the stain he had left, tutting quietly, “thanks a lot.. gonna have to change now,” adding a soft chuckle.

“sorry.. cheaper than a baby though,” adding to your banter, it’s indescribable the relief he feels.

eddie watches as you rummage around in your suitcase, no longer shying away as you pull your shirt over your head, shimmying into your clean clothes.

when you rejoin him in bed, the tension is mostly gone, the lamp clicking off, encompassing the room in total and utter darkness.

there’s a further moment of silence wherein eddie isn’t sure if he should bolt and hide or embarrass himself further and say something stupid.

something- someone, brushes against his ribcage as you shuffle, your hand coming to rest on his stomach.

there’s not a word exchanged between you but eddie takes the hint, sliding your hand further over his midriff. it’s a pathetic attempt at cuddling but it makes him flutter all the same.

eddie wakes up sprawled face first across the bed, blinking at the bright light, not a trace of you in the room.

he fucked up. he fucked up so bad that you’ve decided to find your own way home and left him here.

shit.

he clambers out of bed, pulling his hastily discarded sweatpants back on, remembering every last detail of your night last night.

the guilt comes in waves, and then embarrassment and shame jump in to make it worse.

years of friendship down the drain and for what?

he just about builds enough courage to leave the room and venture downstairs, creeping out onto the hall when you come bounding up the stairs, meeting him in the cramped corridor.

“hi,” smiling coyly, playing the oblivious game.

“hey,” he nods, reciprocating the smile.

nothing was ruined. you’re fine.

“i was just coming to wake you..breakfast’s ready,” you fiddle with your thumbs, a completely different version of yourself than the one he saw last night.

“oh good,” eddie blinks, “i’m starving,” wanting to smash his palm into his face the second the words come out.

“great!” you exclaim, the painful cringe coming through on your face too.

the two of you walk down the stairs in silence, sitting at the table with a small knowing glance.

this house is huge. he’s sure no one else would’ve heard.

he’s midway through his coffee when your dad leans across the table, probing the two of you, “so, will you be trying for kids anytime soon?”

eddie damn near chokes on the searing hot liquid, coughing his gulp back up into the mug, combatting the burning sensation travelling down his throat and also up into his cheeks.

why would he ask that? over breakfast no less.

“uh no.. nope,” you answer for him, thankfully.

“that’s a shame,” your father stands from the table, sliding his plate into the soapy water before making his way over to eddie, clapping him on the back, “you’re gonna have to make an honest woman outta her first son,” before shuffling off into the living room.

he wants to die. in fact, he’d much rather the ground open up and swallow the two of you alive than to be sat at this breakfast table.

judging by the look on your face, you share the sentiment.

he’s going to tell you. he’s going to tell you. he’s going to tell you. he’s going to tell you.

he’s just not sure when or how. it’d be unfair for him to unload his feelings unto you at the beginning of the journey, not to mention also extremely inconvenient if you didn’t feel the same.

but then he’s also acutely aware that if he doesn’t force those words out soon, that they may never come out.

he’s just finished loading your bags into the back of his van, admittedly a little sad to be leaving.

it’s like, he could no longer pretend that what was going on was real. that last night might’ve just been a mistake and you want to cut ties here.

your phone blares from your hand, holding up a finger as you walk away to take the call.

eddie rehearses what he’s going to say to you. well, tries to.

i think you’re super cool, how about i become your boyfriend for real?

he cringes at the thought of it, it wasn’t really the declaration of love that you deserved.

the door opening startles him, your demeanour had done a complete one eighty, your shoulders slumped as you slide into the seat in silence.

“you all good?” eddie asks, wondering what had changed in such a short time.

“uh.. yeah.”

“y’sure?” he probes, not entirely convinced by your change in attitude.

“that was josh,” you swallow, looking straight ahead out of the windscreen, “he wants to see me when i’m back.. to talk.”

“oh,” he replies flatly, “wow okay.”

the life he had dreamed slowly crumbled before him, it was foolish to think that you’d just want to settle down with him now. he’d gotten ahead of himself and now had to reap the consequences.

“yeah..”

eddie doesn’t utter another word, instead, turning the key and starting the long, painful drive home.

maybe he’ll throw himself out of the van on the interstate. punishment for letting himself even slightly believe that you’d be interested in him too.

josh is waiting outside of your building when eddie pulls up, smug grin in tow.

tempted to just keep driving, smash into the side of his expensive shiny car and then reverse over his spindly little body.

that doesn’t happen of course.

instead, eddie keeps his head ducked low, muttering a low see you later before you clamber out. there’s so much left unsaid, even a complete idiot could see that.

he doesn’t watch as you walk over to your ex, certainly doesn’t want to see how his hands meet the small of your back and the way you seem to relax into his touch.

not a chance.

it’s eating him alive. even with the windows rolled down entirely, he’s sweating. as if it’s gnawing at his skin, trying to find a way out.

fuckfuckfuck.

tyres screech along the tarmac, his hands shaking as he turns the wheel. something otherworldly and dangerous overtakes his senses as he tears off back down the same road he’d just traveled.

and maybe he’d regret it and maybe it’d ruin your friendship forever but this week couldn’t have been for nothing.

you had to at least know.

eddie’s palms are wet, holding onto the steering wheel with a white-knuckled grip. he doesn’t recall the journey to your apartment being so fucking long but he feels like he’s in this stuffy van for an eternity.

the moment he pulls onto that familiar street, bile rises in his throat.

maybe josh would have sweet talked his way back into your life and he’d get his ass beat. or maybe you’d laugh him out of there, telling him to never contact you again.

he supposes that there’s not much left to lose now.

eddie hops out of his van without so much as a look back, bounding up the short path as the door swings open, nearly knocking him for six.

“eddie,” you remark, phone gripped in your hand. your jaw hangs open, what looks like tears stain your cheeks. “i was trying to call you.”

frankly, he’s still out of breath from the exhilaration of it all, struggling to find his words as he stares gormless at you, “my phone’s dead.. i didn’t- didn’t know.. what’s wrong?” mind immediately jumping to josh.

what had he done?

“nonono.. nothing’s wrong, i just..” you trail off, your gaze not once breaking, “why are you here?”

eddie’s mind goes blank, why was he here?

to tell you that he thinks he’s in love with you? he can’t say that.

“you.. left something- in the van.”

idiot.

total fucking fool.

“oh!” swallowing the shock of his arrival, “what? what is it?”

why are you both dancing around this? he’s sure you feel it too. maybe. that could be the adrenaline speaking.

“nothing.. you didn’t leave anything- i don’t know why i said that.” shaking his head, if he weren’t so nervous, he’d have been crippled with embarrassment. “look, i have to tell you something,” biding his time, hoping your crazed ex won’t pop out of a bush and pummel his head into the ground.

“eddie..” you start, that solemn tone he was dreading to hear.

“no, let me say it,” he tries again, clearing his throat, “i need to s-“

“-eddie,” cutting him off mid-sentence, bounding up to him with your arms extended, throwing them around his neck as you press your lips to his.

it’s almost enough force to knock him on his ass, his hands coming to meet your waist in an attempt to stabilise both of you.

you pull away, lips still pouted slightly, “sorry.. what were you gonna say?”

eddie can’t recall a word of the speech he’d halfheartedly rehearsed. “well shit.. doesn’t matter now,” once again pressing his lips to yours, swaying in the evening breeze as everything seems to fall into place.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x female reader

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fishy--friend · 2 months

Text

GUYS. IVE BEEN FUCKING AROUND WITH POSSIBLE PASSWORDS AND BELOW ARE SOME THAT IVE FOUND THAT WORK.

MASSIVE SPOILERS FOR THISISNOTAWEBSITEDOTCOM.COM BELOW. IF YOU WANT TO TRY AND FIND THESE FOR YOURSELF, DO SO BEFORE READING. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.

4 CATEGORIES:

TEXT ON SCREEN

DISPLAYS IMAGES

OPENS TABS

MISCELLANEOUS

ALSO: THIS IS MOST LIKELY UNFINISHED. THIS IS BEING UPDATED AS FREQUENTLY AS I AM DISCOVERING NEW PASSWORDS FOR THE TERMINAL.

1. TEXT ON SCREEN.

T.J. ECKLEBURG: DON'T MENTION THAT NAME AGAIN.

AXOLOTL: YOU ASK ALOTL QUESTIONS

PINES: A GOOD FAMILY TREE

GRAVITY FALLS: NEVER HEARD OF IT.

BOOK OF BILL: HIDE IT UNDER SHIRT DURING PLEDGE OF ALLEGIANCE

PORTAL: PORTAL.EXE HAS BEEN DELETED. BET YOU COULD BUILD ONE

29121239168518: WHO COMES FROM ZIMTREX 5?

JOURNAL 3: THE JOURNAL FOR ME

JOURNAL 2: THE JOURNAL FOR YOU

JOURNAL 1: THE JOURNAL OF FUN

DEER TEETH: FOR YOU KID!

DISNEY: RAT.GIF HAS BEEN CENSORED FOR YOUR PROTECTION

YOURE INSANE: SURE I AM WHATS YOUR POINT?

TRIANGLE: )

GUN: OH YES OH YES THEY BOTH

MOUNTAIN DONT: WHATS A MEDIEVAL HOMONYM?

3466554: WHAT LEAVES A THIN LINE IN THE SNOW?

DUCKTECTIVE: DUCKTECTIVE STARS IN "LOVE, QUACKTUALLY" COMING TO "OI, ITS THE COCKNEY CHANNEL INNIT?" THIS FALL

BLENDIN: TIME AGENT LOST AND PRESUMED INCOMPETENT

HISTORY: "NUMBER 3 IS THE MAGIC NUMBER" - SCHOOLHOUSE ROCK

YES: WHAT'S MCGUCKETS FAVORITE SODA?

NO: YOUR LOSS...

AM I BLANCHIN: GIRL WE BLANCHIN

SEASON 3: SEASON 2

SEASON 2: SEASON 1

SEASON 1: SEASON -1: ANTIGRAVITY FALLS

GIFFANY: INPUT DELETED. AI ANTIVIRAL ACTIVATED.

GIFFANY (2ND TIME): WARNING SECONDARY FIREWALL BREACHED.

GIFFANY (3RD TIME): FINAL WARNING: SYSTEM UNDER ATTACK

GIFFANY (4TH TIME): SOOS!! I STILL LOVE YOU! WE WILL BE TOGETHER

GIFFANY (5TH TIME): NOW DOWNLOADING GIRLFRIEND (THIS ACTION CANNOT BE UNDONE) (SEE CATEGORY 4 FOR 6TH TIME)

SCRIMBLES: LIFEFORM NOT FOUND

ANSWER: QUESTION

QUESTION: ANSWER

BYE GOLD: BYE!

FAMILY MATTERS: DID I DO THAT?

FILBRICK: IM NOT IMPRESSED.

WHO ARE YOU: I COULD ASK YOU THE SAME QUESTION

SCIENTOLOGY: SUPPRESSIVE PERSON DETECTED

HOLOGRAM: UNIVERSE

REALITY: IS AN ILLUSION

THE UNIVERSE: HOLOGRAM

2. DISPLAYS IMAGES

THERAPRISM: ELEVATOR INSTRUCTIONS

STANFORD/SIXER/FORD: MEDICAL DOCUMENTS

LOVE: IMAGE OF A BOOK TITLED "THE LOVE TRIANGLE"

PACIFICA: NOTE FROM PACIFICA

DIPPER: BILL TRYING TO GET DIPPER TO LOOK IN THE SUN FOR 13 HOURS STRAIGHT

BLIND EYE: EYESIGHT TEST

MASON: NOTE FROM DIPPER

ROBBIE: ONLINE CHATS

WENDY: NOTE FROM WENDY

SOOS: NOTE FROM SOOS

SPOOKY/SCARY: BOOK

LALALA/BABY BILL: DO NOT ASK.

HORROR: THE "ALWAYS GARDEN"

IRREGULAR: COLORIZED MUGSHOTS

DIVORCE: O SADLEY'S BEER BRANDING

PLATINUM PAZ: ONE OF PACIFICA'S NIGHTMARES.

ABOVE IS A CODE I FOUND.

SORRY: UNRIPPED PICTURE OF STAN AND FIDDS IN COLLEGE

AD ASTRA PER ASPERA: DIARY ENTRIES ABOUT BILL'S STATUE

BAAAA: PASSAGE ABOUT SHEEP. MUSIC CUTS OUT.

BOOBERRY: A QUESTION MARK CALLED "THE MEANING OF LIFE"

SEVEN EYES: IMAGE OF THE ORACLE

GOODNIGHT SALLY: BILL T-SHIRT

DESTRUCTION IS A FORM OF CREATION: FIDDS GOES INSANE: THE NOTES

3. OPENS TABS

BILL/CIPHER/BILL CIPHER: WIKIPEDIA PAGE ON THE EYE OF PROVINCE

STANLEY: EBAY SALES FOR BRASS KNUCKLES

MCGUCKET: YT VID OF COTTON EYE JOE

MEOW: VID OF TIKTOK OF THEME COVERED BY CAT PIANO

BLANCHIN: YT VID ON HOW TO BLANCH VEGETABLES

WADDLES: GOES TO A PIG WEBSITE

ABUELITA: VID ON BEST VACUUMS FOR FLOORS AND CEILINGS

STANLEY (3RD TIME): DOGS PLAYING POKER ON EBAY

STANLEY (4TH): 8 BALL CANE ON EBAY

STANLEY (5TH) MAE GIRDLE ON EBAY

STANLEY (6TH) SHRINER FEZ ON EBAY

STANLEY (7TH) COLONEL SANDERS TIE ON EBAY

MONSTER: GOOGLES "THERES A MONSTER AT THE END OF THIS BOOK"

ALEX HIRSCH: GOOGLES "FLANNEL"

MYSTERY SHACK: GOOGLES "CONFUSION HILL"

4. MISCELLANEOUS

GIDEON: AUDIO CLIP OF HIM SINGING

MABEL: ADDS STICKERS TO THE HOMEPAGE

WEIRD: VIDEO OF WEIRD AL

CRYPTOGRAM CODEX: DOWNLOADS FILES

GOD: VID OF ALEX'S AXOLOTL

VALLIS CINERIS: WEIRD VID OF BABY BILL

HECTORING: SONG FROM ONE OF BILL'S BANDS

CONSPIRACY: VID OF SOMEONE FREAKING OUT OVER THE WEBSITE, BY THEN COUNTING BACKWARDS STILL

DORITO: WIERD ASS VID OF A DORITO

SCREEN: MAKES NOISE, I CANT SEE WHAT IT IS

ONE EYED KING: HYPNOSIS VIDEO

MATPAT: VID OF HIM SAYING "YOURE ON YOUR OWN"

GIFFANY (6TH TIME ENTERING HER NAME): DOWNLOADS "IMNEVERLEAVING.ZIP"

STANLEY (8TH) TAKES YOU TO THE WHEEL OF SHAME! (SECRETS FOR A FUTURE POST)

BABBA/DISCO GIRL: DIPPER SINGS DISCO GIRL (A PERSONAL FAV)

IM STILL ON: A VIDEO OF THE SEA GRUNKS

LIES: THE GAME OF LIE

TANTRUM: RANT BETWEEN BILL AND TIME BABY

IF YOU FIND ANYTHING ELSE, LET ME KNOW.

#gravity falls #bill cipher #the book of bill #the book of bill spoilers #thisisnotawebsitedotcom #stanley pines #stanford pines #dipper pines #mabel pines #soos ramirez #wendy corduroy #robbie valentino #gideon gleeful #pacifica northwest #i find it interesting that when you put it mason #it shows dippers note and when you put in dipper #its just bill mocking him.#more fuel for the trans theory /hj

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pretty-little-mind33 · 4 months

Text

Dave Lizewski x fem!reader

Summary: When Dave is hired by your dad to clean your pool during the summer, something you'd known for a long time becomes even more obvious

Genre: Fluff with a smidge of suggestive content 😏

Warnings: flirty!reader, submissive undertones!dave, shy!dave, dave and reader are eighteen, swearing, making out.

~ here you go my lovely @moonlightspencie 🫶💕~

DAVE LIZEWSKI MASTERLIST

You and Dave Lizewski aren't by any means close during the school year. You both live in completely different circles. You have your more popular friends and Dave has his small group of nerds. In all honesty, the only time you interact with him is when you occasionally take out the trash at the same time and see him from across the road.

He'll wave nervously and you'll smile to yourself.

He really is cute.

However, you weren't expecting to hear his voice as you're sunbathing by your pool on a sunny July afternoon.

You sit up instantly and push your sunglasses up on your head as you hear the small, "Yes, sir," Dave mutters as he holds the pool stick in one hand and listens to your dad explain how to clean the pool.

"Ah, Y/n, this is David—Mr. Lizewski's son—he lives next door," your dad calls when he sees you, "He's cleaning our pool for a quick buck."

He then turns to Dave and gestures to you, "This is my daughter, Y/n."

You smile and tilt your head as some water from your damp hair hits your shoulders. "I know, Dad. He knows. We're both seniors now," you say and sip from your lemonade, eyeing Dave.

"Hi, Dave," you say with a smile and the poor boy's cheeks turn crimson.

Thank God you wore your sexy bikini.

Your dad looks between you both, his hands on his hips, but he doesn't comment. "Alright, well, good meeting you Dave. I'll be inside if you have any questions," he says and once he's gone, Dave looks like a deer in headlights.

He's still standing by the pool, wearing embarrassingly colorful shorts and a white T-shirt. His brown curly hair is only a little longer than you remembered from a few months ago and he looks slightly fitter.

"You gonna stare at me the entire time or work, Lizewski?" you laugh and turn onto your stomach, pushing down your sunglasses again and resisting your head on your arms. You smile to yourself when you hear Dave's mumblings and shufflings as he works.

Around fifteen minutes later, you shift onto your back again and see that Dave looks already sweaty from the excessive heat. Shit, he looks good.

"How long until I can take a dip," you cross your legs and ask, smiling at him as he jumps in surprise at the sound of your voice.

"O-oh, um," he avoids your gaze as he looks down at the pool, "I haven't added the chlorine and s-stuff y-yet, but after that probably I think- like thirty minutes?"

You sit up and frown. "I'll just take a dip now, then, I don't wanna wait that long," you say and stand, running a hand in your hair as you walk to the stairs.

Dave watches you and he can't help but admit he's staring at your curves in your bikini. He resists the urge to adjust his shorts.

"Y-yeah, s-sure," he stutters, unsure what to do now.

You find him adorable so you smile at him as you walk into the pool. "Come, join me," you say, "It's boiling outside. My dad won't mind, promise," you say and guide some water onto your arms.

Dave looks nervous now, his blue eyes round and unsure. "I- I don't want to bother you."

You smile at him and duck under the water, coming up and pushing hair from your forehead. "Nonsense, Lizewski. I'm inviting you in. Now, c'mon," you chuckle and swim around the pool.

Dave hesitates but he finally shrugs off his shirt and awkwardly covers himself until the pool water reaches his waist. He can feel you staring at his arms and chest and he blushes harder.

You swim to him. "Why're you so shy?" you ask curiously. "Usually guys that look like you are arrogant assholes."

"Guys that look like me?" Dave questions, walking further into the pool to meet you in the middle. He lifts his arms as he winces from the coolness of the water.

You laugh and swim even closer until you're standing face-to-face in the water. Dave still looks blushed and you smirk. "Yeah. Guys that are handsome and cute and—" your gaze flickers to his abs, "hot—like you."

Dave looks like he could explode any second by how flushed he is and he rubs his nape. "Y-you think I'm all those things?"

You laugh, "Don't you own a mirror, Lizewski?"

He clearly doesn't know how to answer that so he goes with a compliment instead. "You're hot too, and cute–and b-beautiful," he mumbles shyly, "and your personality is totally banger–" he tries and you can tell he means it he's just nervous.

You walk closer to him and hover your hand over his cheek before you push some of his curls behind his ear with your wet hand. "Dave, have you ever kissed a girl?" you ask, already knowing the answer.

His breath hitches. "N-no–"

"Is it okay if I kiss you?" You look into his blue eyes and then at his pink lips.

Dave stutters, "B-but your parents—"

"Aren't paying attention to us. Promise," you smile and cup his cheek fully in your hand. You pull him in, pressing your lips to his gently. He's stiff in the beginning, his hands awkwardly finding your shoulders.

"Relax," you tease and bump your nose against his.

Dave relaxes and he lets out a small gasp as you push his back to the cool tile of the pool, your mouth exploring his hungrily. He's not a bad kisser for someone who'd never done it and when you wrap one leg around his hip, his hand dips under the water to hold your thigh. You groan into his lips and continue to kiss him as the water splashes around you.

The sun is warm on your skin and Dave can taste the lemonade from your lips. It's intoxicating and he wants more. He pulls away, breathless as he looks down at your body glistening from water and his dick fully hardens at how sexy you look in your bikini. His eyes are glued to your tits.

"Here," you laugh, feeling him becoming all hot and bothered so you guide one of his hands to your tit and continue to kiss him as he feels you up. You run one of your hands up and down his abs under the water. "Good boy," you praise between kisses and you feel like you're also on fire.

No experienced boy has ever made you feel this good. How is that even possible?

You make out for another few minutes and then as you pull away, Dave's lips are red and moist. His eyes are blown wide and he's panting. He looks breathtakingly beautiful.

You smirk and kiss his cheek, pushing away from him. "Times up," you tease and walk out of the pool, feeling his eyes linger on your figure as you wrap a towel around yourself. You turn to him, your tone light, "You should get back to work—Dad doesn't like slackers," you taunt him and grab your magazine.

You hear Dave scrambling to exit the pool and you toss him an extra towel.

"Might have to fix that big problem of yours first," you giggle, smirking.

Dave immediately presses the bunched-up towel against his boner as he makes an embarrassed squeal. Your heart leaps at the sound and you look over your shoulder, waving at him as you walk away.

"I'll see you around, baby," you say with a wink and he is left a blushing mess behind you.

#dave lizewski #dave lizewski x fem!reader #dave lizewski x reader #dave lizewski blurb #dave lizewski x y/n #dave lizewski x you #dave lizewski fanfiction #dave lizewski fanfic #dave lizewski smut #dave lizewski imagine #dave lizewski kick ass #aaron taylor johnson fic #aaron taylor johnson fanfiction #aaron taylor johnson kick ass #aaron taylor johnson

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inthedayswhenlandswerefew · 4 months

Text

Where Will All The Martyrs Go [Chapter 1: Welcome To A New Kind Of Tension]

Series summary: In the midst of the zombie apocalypse, both you and Aemond (and your respective travel companions) find yourselves headed for the West Coast. It’s the 2024 version of the Oregon Trail, but with less dysentery and more undead antagonists. Watch out for snakes! 😉🐍

Series warnings: Language, sexual content (18+ readers only), violence, bodily injury, med school Aemond, character deaths, nature, drinking, smoking, drugs, Adventures With Aegon, pregnancy and childbirth, the U.S. Navy, road trip vibes, Jace is here unfortunately.

Series title is a lyric from: “Letterbomb” by Green Day.

Chapter title is a lyric from: “American Idiot” by Green Day.

Word count: 5.1k

💜 All my writing can be found HERE! 💜

Let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist 🥰

“What do you think, should we kill ourselves now or later?” Rio is spinning his Beretta M9 around on his index finger. This is not advisable. He doesn’t care.

Your hands are gripping the skeletal latticework of the transmission tower, steel hot enough to burn you; no electricity hums in the power lines suspended above your heads. Your eyes are on the horizon, golden June sunlight over fields no one has planted. Weeds are growing up through the earth, feral and defiantly useless, reclaiming their land just like the deer are, and the rabbits and the opossums and the turtles and the squirrels and the doves. The reign of humanity is over. Now you’re prey animals too. “Let’s wait.”

“For what?”

“Maybe someone will save us.”

“Ain’t nobody coming, Chips!” Rio says. “We’re a hundred feet off the ground in the middle of nowhere, motherfucking Catawissa, Pennsylvania, and we haven’t run into anyone since that Amish family back in Lightstreet, and I wouldn’t count on them driving by in their horse and buggy to pick us up.”

“We’re about sixty feet off the ground.”

“Okay, Bob the Builder, why don’t you whip up a helicopter or something to get us out of here?” Rio’s M9 has one bullet left in it, yours has three, nowhere near enough. At the bottom of the tower is a swarm of fifty-four zombies; you’ve counted them twice. There are no cute euphemisms: walkers, biters, the infected. They were once people and now they’re not. They wear the vestiges of their former lives, like how those who believe in reincarnation see meaning in birthmarks: here you were stabbed, there you were kissed by your true love. They lurch and snarl and hiss in their professional attire, college t-shirts, Vans and Jordans, septum piercings, wedding rings. They decompose in a miasma of metallic blood and spoiled meat. Parker had been the last one to the transmission tower, and they grabbed him by the legs. Now they’re chewing the gristle off his bones: disconnected ligaments that swing like strands of cobwebs, scarlet threads of muscle. “Oh shit,” Rio says, looking down. “We’ve got a smart one.”

Most zombies don’t have the fine motor skills to climb, swim, or open doors, but every once in a while—just like out of every 5,000 or 10,000 or however many ordinary humans you’ll pull the lever on the genetic slot machine and get a Picasso or a kid who can score a 1600 on the SATs—you run into an overachiever. This zombie, a teenage boy with red hair and a blue plaid shirt, is slowly scaling the tower. He’s already ten feet off the ground.

Rio aims his M9, semiautomatic, packs a punch but won’t break your arm with the recoil. “Fuck off, Ed Sheeran!” He fires and misses; the bullet grazes the boy’s shoulder. He groans dramatically and asks you in defeat: “Will you take care of that, please?”

You pull your pistol out of your holster and lean away from the tower to get a better angle, holding onto the scaffolding with one hand. You feel Rio’s large fingers close around your wrist, ready to yank you back if you slip. You click off the safety with your thumb, peer through the front sight, aim and wait until you’re sure. It’s a headshot: shards of skull ricochet off steel beams, half-rotten brains spray out in a mist. The carcass plummets to the earth.

“All this horror, all this catastrophe.” Rio’s eyes, dark like a mineshaft, drift mischievously back to you. “We could…distract each other.”

He’s not serious; this is a game you play. “No thanks.”

“You don’t want to die a virgin.”

“I do if you’re the only other person up here.”

“You deny a condemned man his final wish?”

“We’re not dying,” you insist. “What about Sophie?”

“Sophie would understand given the circumstances. She would want me to be happy.”

“What if we have sex and then immediately thereafter get rescued? You’d be a cheater. You’d be consumed by guilt. You’d never be able to take me back to your parents’ doomsday prepper cult commune in bumblefuck Oregon to wait out the apocalypse in peace.”

“You’re going to appreciate those doomsday preppers when you’re eating Chef Boyardee out of a can instead of shuffling around as a reanimated corpse.”

“Yeah, I’m sure I will,” you muse. ��So you agree we’re going to get off this tower somehow.”

Rio sighs and whistles a morose tune: what a shame. “You should have gone out with that Marine at Corpus Christi.”

You frown, repentant, wistful. There’s nothing on the horizon except fields and trees and black storm clouds of crows taking flight. “I was afraid of making a mistake.”

“And now look at you. About to die as pure as Pope Francis.”

“How did this happen?! We’re not idiots, we’re goddamn professionals!” You re-holster your M9. You’re still wearing your uniforms from when you went AWOL, stealing away from Saratoga Springs like rats from a sinking ship.

“I’ll tell you exactly how this happened. You let that loser Parker come with us even though I knew it was a bad idea—”

“I couldn’t just leave him there! He started crying!”

“And he had one job, which was to check the oil in the Humvee, and clearly he failed because…” Rio glances at his watch. “Approximately four hours ago, the engine started smoking and the whole thing died on us, so we had to get out and walk, like we’re pioneers or some shit, and then that hoard down there came out of nowhere, and the only place left to go was up. Freaking Parker. I could murder that guy.” An awkward pause. “I mean, the zombies beat me to it. But still.”

“He had two jobs. He was also carrying the extra ammo.”

“Don’t remind me.” Rio isn’t messing around with his M9 anymore. He’s contemplating it as the sun hovers just past noon, hot and shadowless. “How many bullets do you have left?”

“Two.”

“Good. Don’t use them.”

You look at him, this man you’ve known for over four years, this man you’ve traveled the world with. You’ve already gone so much farther than Oregon together. How is it possible that what was once a six hour flight is now a month-long journey that might kill you? “It’s not over yet, Rio.”

“Remember what you promised me.”

His hushed voice in the moonlit indigo of the Humvee the night you left Saratoga Springs: Don’t let me die alone. “We’re going to be okay. We’re going to make it to Oregon.” Then you grin, sweltering summer air breathing over you, humid, heavy, the screeching of insects in the trees. “But if it comes to that, I’d be happy to shoot you first.”

Rio smiles as the zombies below growl and claw at the steel framework of the transmission tower. Flesh peels off their fingers until you can see the gore-stained white of their bones. “Don’t miss.”

“I rarely do.”

“Do you have any more packs of Cheddar Whales in your pockets or—?” He cuts off as he spots something in the distance. His eyes go wide, his jaw drops open. “What…what is that?!”

It’s an SUV, massive, dark blue, rumbling across the field in a dust storm of displaced earth. It’s headed straight towards you. There is someone standing up through the sunroof, short dark hair that whips wildly in the wind, binoculars. You can hear the engine revving and, faintly, Kanye West’s Gold Digger. As the SUV nears the tower, Sunroof Kid ducks inside and closes the hatch.

Rio explodes into hysterical, rapturous laughter. “Oh my God, we’re saved! We’re not going to die up here! Oh, thank you, Jesus, thank you. I’m never going to jack off on Sundays again.”

The SUV, still accelerating, plows through the mob of zombies. Severed limbs go flying; bones crunch and snap. There’s a woman driving, you can see now through the slightly tinted windows. She puts the monstrous vehicle and reverse and does another pass. Zombies paw futilely at the sides of the SUV, a Chevy Tahoe, as it turns out. They smack their open, soggy palms on the windows; they gnaw and lick at the bumpers and the wheel wells. The Tahoe circles to regain speed, the engine growling, a bear, a dragon, and barrels into the remaining ambulatory zombies. The hoard is now largely incapacitated. Rio is cheering and clapping his hands.

The Tahoe’s doors open, and your rescuers appear. There are two men wielding baseball bats: one with long dark curly hair, the other tall and blonde, and there’s something wrong with his face, the left side, though you are too far away to see clearly. They move rapidly through the battlefield of felled, moaning bodies, swinging their bats and crushing skulls. There’s another blonde guy, shorter, softer, pink with sunburn, wearing plastic sunglasses and a teal polo with a popped collar. He’s spinning a golf club in his right hand. He is followed out of the Tahoe by one last blonde, spindly and swift, stalking the perimeter with a compound bow, a quiver of arrows secured to his belt. Rio is singing along to Gold Digger, drumming his fists on the steel beams.

“Now, I ain’t sayin’ you a gold digger, you got needs

You don’t want a dude to smoke, but he can’t buy weed

You go out to eat, he can’t pay, y’all can’t leave

There’s dishes in the back, he gotta roll up his sleeves…”

The driver wriggles out of the Tahoe with some difficulty; she is seven or eight months pregnant. “Stay in the car,” Madame Driver tells someone inside as she slams the door shut. She’s holding a hammer and sets about euthanizing the zombies still squirming on the ground and gnashing their cracked teeth at her.

Golf Club says: “Jace, bro, that’s so embarrassing. You’re gonna let her do that?”

Curly—or, rather, Jace—shrugs. “Exercise is good for the baby.”

All three blondes respond at once in a chorus of appalled disapproval. Interestingly, your rescuers have British accents. From within the Tahoe, someone turns off the CD player. This is wise; noise tends to attract more zombies. Madame Driver, unaffected, puts her hammer through the eye socket of a former Arby’s employee.

Jace flings back: “She likes helping! It would be sexist to tell her she’s not allowed to!”

The Scarred Man looks up at you and Rio and salutes, two fingers glanced off his forehead. You begin climbing down the scalding rungs of the transmission tower to meet them.

“Oh fuck, Aemond, you gotta deal with this,” Golf Club says. He is holding a yowling zombie at arm’s length by the straps of its overalls. It’s tiny, maybe a kindergartener. “You know I can’t kill the little kid ones.”

The Scarred Man, Aemond, turns to him. He’s wearing a maroon Harvard University t-shirt. “You have to learn how to do things yourself. I might not always be around.”

Golf Club scoffs. “As if I’d outlive you.”

“Go on. You can do it,” Aemond says. Behind him, more people are emerging from the Chevy Tahoe: Binoculars Buddy, a slight girl with shifting, watchful eyes, a blonde woman in a billowing sundress and with a burlap messenger bag slung over one shoulder.

Golf Club is still struggling. “Aw, Aemond, man, he’s got light-up sneakers!”

Jace strides over irritably. “Aegon, you’re so fucking useless…” He kicks the miniature zombie to the dirt, raises his bloodied baseball bat, and brings it down on a skull that disintegrates like an overripe Halloween pumpkin. “You’re welcome.”

“Get bit, you poodle.”

Rio hits the ground first, his boots thumping against untamed earth. Aemond sets his baseball bat aside and reaches out to offer assistance as you dangle from a white-hot steel beam. “No,” Rio tells him roughly. “Back up.”

Aemond shows his palms and complies, retreating several paces. Rio helps you down. Now you can see Aemond’s face perfectly. There’s a relatively fresh wound running down the left half of his face, the violent red of burgeoning scar tissue, clear stitches; his eye has been sutured shut. But that’s not why you’re staring at him. His other eye is a focused, hypnotic blue, his short blonde hair disheveled. He keeps touching his chin, a nervous tick. Immediately, there’s something you like about him. He gives you the impression of someone who has gotten very good at hiding how afraid he is. Aemond looks away from your gaze, thinking you’re horrified by his injury. Then, reluctantly, he comes back. There’s forbidden temptation the lines of his ravaged face, a curiosity, a hesitation.

“Thank you for saving us,” you say to your rescuers, tearing your attention from Aemond. It’s not easy. “That was really, really cool of you, and we know you didn’t have to do it. So thanks.”

“Yeah,” Rio adds. “Sorry your Tahoe is covered in guts now.”

Aemond turns to confer silently with his companions, then asks you: “Where are you headed?”

“Odessa, Oregon.”

He nods. “We’re going to California.”

“NorCal,” Jace says, holding his baseball bat across his shoulders. “Bay Area.”

“Are you two together?” Aegon asks.

“Yeah,” Rio says, misunderstanding the question.

“Not like that,” you clarify. “He has a wife and baby, that’s what’s in Oregon.”

“So you’re single,” Aegon says, grinning toothily. His fellow travelers—family? friends? classmates? a combination thereof?—grumble and roll their eyes.

“Um, I mean, yeah, technically…?”

“Aemond’s also single,” Madame Driver informs you, relishing the chaos.

“He’s single but deformed and traumatized,” Aegon says. “I am mentally uninjured.”

You chuckle awkwardly. Your eyes, by their own volition, flick back to Aemond. He peers down at the ground then up at you again, smiling, a little sheepish, a little wicked.

Aegon groans, swinging his golf club around. “Man, come on.”

“I didn’t say anything,” Aemond replies.

“No, it’s just right there, all over your fucked up face.”

Madame Driver feigns a sympathetic frown at Aegon. “How sad. Guess you won’t have anyone to give your syphilis to.”

“I don’t have syphilis,” Aegon tells you. Then, to the others: “I can’t be the only single guy! It’s pathetic!”

“I’m single,” Archery Team says brightly.

“You’re like twelve. You don’t count.”

“I’m seventeen!”

“Are you Army?” Aemond asks you and Rio.

“Navy,” Rio replies. “We were stationed at Saratoga Springs in upstate New York.”

Aemond is fascinated. “You’re deserters?”

“What are you gonna do about it, Brit Boy?” Rio says. Aemond blinks at him. Aegon cackles, drawing huge circles in the air with his golf club.

“Everyone’s deserting,” you explain diplomatically.

“They were going to evacuate the base and send everyone left into New York City,” Rio says. “Fuck that, we’d heard things, we weren’t about to go on some suicide mission. We weren’t even in a combat unit for Christ’s sake, we’re Seabees.”

“You’re what?” Aemond asks, puzzled.

“We do construction. That’s why we were still at the base. If they’re putting us on the front lines, the situation is truly desperate. I’m not going in the meatgrinder. I’m not gonna be like those Hitler Youth kids sent to Russia.”

Aegon is squinting behind his sunglasses, truly lost. “Huh?”

“We should go west together,” Aemond suggests. He’s attempting to sound casual.

“I thought we didn’t want to travel with strangers, Aemond,” Jace says pointedly, mocking him. “I thought they couldn’t be trusted, Aemond. I thought they might slit our throats and steal our Tahoe in the dead of night, Aemond.”

“We’re useful!” Rio bargains. “We can shoot things!”

Aegon is very confused. “I thought you did construction.”

“Everyone has to go through basic training,” Aemond tells him impatiently, watching you.

“She got the Marksmanship Medal,” Rio says, grinning, proud.

“A lot of people get that,” you demur immediately.

“We can give you guys weapons training,” Rio continues. “You seem…like you probably don’t know about guns. Like you read a lot of books.” He gestures to Aegon. “Except that one.”

Aegon snickers, unoffended, still swinging his golf club around. “I don’t read books. I read maps.”

“Okay, lets do it,” Aemond says. “We’ll stick together across the Midwest and split up before we get to the Pacific. That puts us at ten people, and there’s safety in numbers.”

“Why do you get to make all the decisions?!” Jace demands. “Who signed that fucking contract? I didn’t consent to those terms.”

“Because that’s what Criston told us the last time the phones worked,” Aegon replies smugly. “He said Aemond’s in charge. So he is. If you want to find your way to California on your own, you’re welcome to try.”

“Who’s Criston?” you ask.

“Our fake dad,” Aegon says.

“Oh, your stepdad?”

“No, our mom is still married to our dad, he just sucks.”

“He does suck,” Archery Team confirms.

Rio tells you: “Hey, Chips, you’re standing in a torso.”

“Am I?” You look down. Your boots are buried to the ankles in the rotting gore of a bare midsection with only one limp arm still attached. You step out of it and shake off the bits of decomposing organs. “Gnarly. Thanks.” You spot Parker’s backpack containing the extra ammunition, pick it up out of the dirt, and throw it over your shoulders.

“Chips?” Aemond says. “Like…chocolate chips?”

“No, like woodchips. I’m a carpenter. I mean, I was a carpenter, I guess. That’s what I did in the Navy. Some people call the carpenters Chips.”

“I was an electrician,” Rio says. “So clearly, now that all the power is down, that turned out to be a fantastic career path.” Then he formally introduces himself. “Hi everyone, I’m Rio.”

Aegon perks up. “Oh, like the Rio Grande.”

Rio pretends to be scandalized. “Wow, racist.”

“So racist,” you agree.

Aegon’s chubby pink face fills with horror. “No, wait, I didn’t…um…”

Rio laughs and taps the nametag on his chest, black letters stitched over green camouflage: Osorio.

“His first name’s Bryan,” you say. “But no one calls him that.”

“My mom calls me Bryan. Sophie calls me Bryan.”

Aemond points at his companions, one after the other. “That’s my brother Aegon and my sister Helaena. Jace and Luke are our cousins. Then Baela and Rhaena are their girlfriends. Well, Baela…she’s kind of a fiancée. But there’s no official ring yet.”

Jace says: “Unfortunately, all the jewelry stores were looted on account of the apocalypse.”

“And I’m Daeron,” Archery Team says buoyantly, waving. Then he shields his eyes as he notices something at the edge of the field. “Oh, guys…?”

There are zombies approaching with clumsy, staggering strides, only a few now, but more will follow. That’s the thing; they are in seemingly endless supply. It’s easy to get too comfortable with them, to think of them as slow and mindless, even comical, even pitiful. But they can surprise you. And it only takes one bite to become just like them.

“Time to return to the Tahoe,” Baela announces, waddling towards the driver’s seat. Rhaena climbs in the passenger’s side. The rest of you pile into the back. The SUV has nine seats; Aegon crouches on the floor without being asked to. He’s unfolding a map he pulled from the pocket of his salmon-colored shorts and laying it flat across Rio’s knees so everyone can see. Baela turns the key in the ignition and the Tahoe rumbles to life. You spot a few red gas cans under the seats. If you can’t find more when that runs out—siphoning it out of other vehicles, stumbling across a gas station that is miraculously not drained dry—you’ll be walking, biking, or skateboarding to the West Coast. Or embracing the Amish lifestyle with a horse and buggy.

“We were planning to swing by Fort Indiantown Gap,” you tell Aemond. He twists around in his seat to look at you, that absorbed crystalline blue gaze. “That’s where we were headed before our Humvee broke down. It’s a National Guard Training Center. It’s probably cleaned out like everywhere else, but if it’s not…we might be able to find some guns and ammo there.”

“Where is it?”

“An hour south of here, just outside of Harrisburg.”

Baela is watching Aemond in the rearview mirror. He gives her a nod. “How do I get there?” Baela asks you.

“South on Route 42. Did you see the signs on your way in…?”

“Yup. Got it.” Baela steers the Tahoe across the field, kicking up a vortex of parched soil. She intentionally runs down four zombies before swerving left onto a two-lane road. Then she turns up the volume on the CD player: War Pigs by Black Sabbath. “It’s a mixtape,” she informs you.

Aegon points to southcentral Pennsylvania on a map of the United States of America, highway arteries and local route veins. “We’re here,” he says, sliding around on the floor of the Tahoe as Baela drives. His index finger traces the path; it’s a precarious balance between avoiding the most heavily populated areas and still having access to the necessary trappings of civilization: supplies to scavenge, roads to follow, buildings to take shelter in. “We’ll stop by Fort Indiantown Gap and then head northwest, thread the needle between Pittsburgh and Cleveland, stay south of Detroit and Chicago, cut across Iowa, Nebraska, Wyoming, that top part of Utah, then go our separate ways in Nevada. Oh my God, it’s just like the Oregon Trail! Do you guys remember that game?! Fording rivers, getting dysentery, hunting bison to extinction?” He starts humming the theme song.

Jace smirks, chomping on a Twizzler. “Hope you don’t die of a snakebite or something. That’d be awful.”

Aegon ignores him and refolds the map. “Rio! Fuck, marry, kill. The last three first ladies before Biden.”

Rhaena says, exasperated: “Aegon, you have to stop asking people that. It’s inappropriate.”

“Oh, easy,” Rio replies. “I’m fucking Laura Bush.”

“That’s what I’m saying!” Aegon gives him a high five.

“And then I have to marry Michelle.”

“You gotta.”

“Which means Melania gets the grape Flavor Aid.”

“It’s the only logical answer.”

“I’d fuck Melania,” Jace says.

“Of course you would, you sick, sick man,” Aegon mutters, rolling down a window and sticking his head out like a golden retriever, his sunglasses still on, his blonde hair flapping in the wind. There’s a tattoo in black ink on his forearm, you notice for the first time: It’s not over ‘til you’re underground.

~~~~~~~~~~

Fort Indiantown Gap is a ghost town like a gold seam emptied, an oil well run dry, a collapsed coal mine. There’s no central armory but instead a series of arms rooms, one for each unit. Every single scrap of lethal metal is gone: no pistols, no rifles, no grenade launchers or machine guns, no ammo, not even pocketknives, although you do find clean PT uniforms for you and Rio to change into, t-shirts and running shorts and sneakers. Clothes are surprisingly difficult to acquire now. Most stores have either been looted or overrun by zombies, and Amazon is tragically no longer delivering. You can break into houses that seem abandoned, but then you have to hope the people who lived there just so happened to be your size and also aren’t waiting inside to eat you. It’s not usually a wise gamble.

You study Aemond and his companions as you move through the base clearing buildings, you and Rio with loaded M9s in your holsters and clutching borrowed baseball bats; gunshots are best avoided if possible so as not to attract unwanted attention. Aemond and Jace take point, almost always; Aegon hovers on Aemond’s blind left side, wagging his golf club around, occasionally slapping Aemond’s shoulder to remind him he’s there. Daeron prowls at the back and on the periphery. Baela pretends she isn’t struggling to keep up. Luke and Rhaena are the lookouts. Helaena fills her burlap messenger bag with small treasures you don’t even notice her accumulating: bottles of Advil, batteries, lighters, pens, tweezers, Band-Aids, Uno cards. You encounter only three zombies, easily decommissioned. Fort Indiantown Gap must have been evacuated weeks ago. You wonder what pointless battles her soldiers died in. Everyone knows the dead have won.

What the abandoned base lacks in weaponry it makes up for in food. You find a chow hall with an untouched kitchen, a wealth of shelf-stable delicacies: chili, saltine crackers, applesauce, fruit cocktail with bright red gems of cherries, peanut butter, strawberry jelly, green beans, carrots, peas, beets, tuna fish, chicken noodle soup. You feast—a Thanksgiving, a Last Supper—then settle into the barracks next door as the sun begins to set. There are plenty of bunkbeds and a closet full of pillows and sheets. Someone always has to be up to keep watch; Daeron and Jace immediately go to sleep so they can get some rest before they are shaken awake sometime around 2 or 3 a.m. Baela says she’s going to lie down for a minute and almost immediately begins snoring. Helaena makes silent amendments in her notebook; she keeps an inventory of everything the group has, needs, or wants.

Outside, Rio and Aegon are engaged in a spirited game of Uno. Luke is sitting cross-legged on the roof of the Tahoe with his binoculars. Rhaena is beside him softly reading a book out loud: The Hunger Games. Aemond is on a wooden bench on the front porch of the barracks, watching the sun sink into the west. When he notices you, he seems pleased. “Hi.”

“Hi. I’m sorry we wasted your gas to come here.”

“No, it was a good idea. It was worth a shot. And now we have a safe place to sleep tonight.” His eye drops lower, his scarred brow crinkles in concern. “What happened to your hands?”

“My hands?” In the haze of the adrenaline, you didn’t even notice. Your palms are blistered, swollen and stinging. “Oh. It was the transmission tower. The steel beams got really hot while we were up there. I’ll be okay.”

“Let me bandage them. You don’t want to get an infection.”

“Really, I’m fine, I shouldn’t inconvenience—”

“Sit down,” Aemond insists. You take a seat on the bench while he goes to the Tahoe to fetch a black nylon bag about the size of a briefcase. Rio casts you a furtive, crafty grin. It’s nothing, you mouth back, more to convince yourself than him. Your pulse is thudding in your ears; your cheeks are warm. You haven’t felt like this since you almost agreed to go on a date with that Marine you met at Corpus Christi, where your battalion had been dispatched to build a series of new airplane hangars. Aemond returns to the bench and begins wiping down your palms with antiseptic. “Sorry if this stings.”

It does, but you’re grateful for the distraction. “It isn’t too bad.”

“You’re not from Oregon.” He’s noticed your accent.

“Kentucky,” you confess.

“You aren’t making a stop at home before traveling west?”

“Why would I want to go back there?”

Aemond looks at you uncertainly; he can’t tell if you’re joking. You like the way his voice goes quiet when it’s just the two of you. You like the way he barely shows his teeth when he talks, like he’s keeping secrets.

After a moment, as the sky begins to turn to orange and pink and lilac, you continue. “People join the Army for a paycheck and a place to sleep, free college, health insurance. People join the Marines to prove they’re the best. People join the Air Force because they want to be in the military but think they’re too smart for grunt work. And people join the Navy to get away from home. I wanted to get far, far, far away.”

Aemond smiles. “Are you far enough yet?” He doesn’t mean by miles. He means the fact that the world will never be the same. Now he’s coating your hands in a thick white ointment, cool and blissful.

“I was afraid of so many things, and now none of them matter.”

“We all have brand new things to be afraid of.” He gets a roll of gauze and begins to wrap your palms, careful to keep your fingers and thumbs unencumbered.

“Aemond?”

“Yeah.”

“What happened to your face?”

He shrugs. He’s trying not to be resentful about it; he can’t change it anyway. “We were scavenging supplies from a Home Depot. We had to board up the house and wait until things…got quieter and it was safe to travel out of Boston.” And by got quieter, he means that the initial wave passed, the zombies began to wander out of the cities and disperse, the survivors were hunkered down and not participating in gunfights or Vikings-style pillaging in the streets. “A piece of sheet metal fell on me from the top shelf. Aegon and Jace dragged me home, they thought I was dying.”

“I’m glad you weren’t. Who treated it?”

“I did.”

You can’t disguise your shock. “You…you stitched up your own face?”

He smirks, finishing the bandages on your hands. “I was in medical school before all this.”

“You’re a doctor?”

“I was an intern. So definitely not a doctor, but the closest thing to one I had access to. And I had taken some things from the hospital when everything went to hell. So I got a little mirror, and I lidocained myself very generously, and I started suturing.”

You don’t know what to say. His eye?? He stitched his eye shut?? “I mean…you did a great job.”

“I’m aware I look like Frankenstein, but I guess it’s better than not being here at all.”

“No, seriously. You look amazing, Aemond.”

He stares at you, bewildered. You realize how bizarre it must sound. You both start laughing as Aemond packs his supplies back into his medical kit. He touches his fingertips to his chin a few times—restless, meditative—then stands to return inside the barracks. “I’m…going to go check on Helaena.”

“Yeah. Cool. See ya.” You don’t watch him leave. This takes intentional effort.

Seconds pass anonymously: no time you need to be anywhere, nothing late, nothing early, no television premiers, no football games, no State Of The Unions, no time zones to do mental math over. You aren’t even sure what day it is. The earth has erased your invisible prisons. Now all that remain are the real ones: weather, terrain, disease, predators.

There is the creaking of weight on the porch steps. You warn him: “I’m not interested in your commentary.”

Rio winks as he says: “Maybe you won’t die a virgin after all.”

#aemond x y/n #aemond x you #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen

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storiesfromafan · 1 month

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She's A Spitfire - Benny x Reader

A/N: I can't help myself. This one's a little different, readers sassy haha. And this one is a long one.

Enjoy, and let me know what you think. Also, feel free to send requests :)

Boys and their toys, you always think when it comes to your boyfriend and his other biker club buddies and their motorcycles. Or anything with wheels really. And for their love of them, you found your Saturday out with the boyfriend, and his boys, at what started as a car show. But now also sported motorcycles, from a few different clubs.

Troy and his friends were discussing who’s bike was better, or what car looked the best. You didn’t know, it was all so boring. So you and three other women, partners of other bikers, were sitting around on blankets, taking in the sun and gossiping. Leaning back on your arms, one leg stretched out while the other propped up, you tilted your head back, eyes closed taking in the sun.

“Jeez (Y/N), do you need to be more on display!” Becky said with a chuckle.

To her words you popped your chest out more, smirk crossing your red lips.

“Better hope Troy don’t see ya” commented Danni.

“So what if he does? I do what I want, not what he wants” you remarked, making them all cackle with laughter.

“Can’t believe the other clubs here” Pam said rattling off names. “...Rogues and Vandals” she finishes.

“Just more bike wired men, who enjoy vibrations between there legs, and have drinking problems” you said offhandedly, making the women laugh more.

You always say what you want, making people think you were born with no filter. And that was fine with you. Even if it does get you in some trouble from time to time. The last time it was between you and another woman at the clubs bar, she had been mouthy and flirting up a storm with Troy. You called her out, she ignored you. So, you gave her some truths from her choice in clothes to her hair and skin care routine. She wasn’t a fan of you after that, going straight to slap you, but you caught her hand and gave her a serving of her own.

After that no woman in that bar messed with you, or your boyfriend. But that didn’t stop Troy from messing around on you. His taste seemed to have changed to cutesy, good girls who wore sweet dresses and heels. Even with this knowledge you still put up with him. But his time was coming, you could feel it. When the time was right you’d get your revenge.

“Sweet lord and Jesus’s!” Breathed out Danni, looking across the way, her glasses pulled down her nose, eyes looking over the top of them. “He should be illegal!”

You rolled your eyes at her words. After all her taste was – excuse the language – in her ass about eight out of ten times.

“Oh my” Pam said moving to swing her body around to face where Danni was looking. “Is he real!?”

Alright, now your interest was piqued. Lolling your head to the right, you searched for what those two were gawking at. And boy did you find it. He was tall, strong build. Dressed in a black t-shirt, jacket, dirty white jeans and matching dirty boots. He had messy blonde locks that one could run their hand through, or as you like, to pull on. Of course he was a Vandal, as his colors said when he turned around to take a beer from another Vandal. Then he took a swig of it, making the simplest of actions make you think not so clean thoughts.

“Someone serve me a slice of that” Becky said with a dreamy voice. You all agreeing with her.

You moved a hand to draw down your sunglasses, needing to see him in the days full light. Glare be damned, you needed this. Without the glasses tint, he looked even better. He was talking to the man that gave him the beer, nodding his head to whatever said. Another two men walked over, one with his arm slung over the other in an attempted to keep standing up, possibly from a little too much to drink. They laughed, talking to blondie before the one holding up his buddy slapped him on the arm, head gesturing in your direction.

All four of you froze, like a deer in headlights as blondie turned his gaze to you all. His friends continuing to talk and laugh, no doubt mentioning you four staring. Maybe encouraging blondie to come over. But he didn’t move, eyes locked on you all, or was it you? You weren’t sure. He took another swig from his bottle, yet never took his eyes off you. Feeling the butterflies swarming your stomach, you put your sunglasses back on, before lolling your head back to where it had been. You had started to feel exposed by his staring, so you had to cut it off, and get back your bad bitch energy.

Benny had made his way over to Johnny and Brucie after taking a leek. They were in deep conversation about an upcoming picnic, discussing the finer details. Johnny had handed him a beer, which he thanked him for before taking a long swig.

“Some of the women think kids shouldn’t be attendin’. Saying too many men are getting stoned or drunk, doesn’t set a good example” laughed Brucie.

Johnny shook his head. “It’s a family picnic, kids have to be there. What ya think Benny?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah kids should be there” Benny said not really paying much mind.

It didn’t matter to him much if kids were at the picnic. But knowing how Johnny likes to bridge his family and club life. It was a small thing to let him enjoy both, even for a small time. It was then that Benny spotted Wahoo and Corky making their way over. Corky had his arm over Wahoo, using his counter part as a crutch from drinking too much. When they finally made it over, Johnny asked them the same question he asked Benny. They both attempted to make a few jokes about it, but they weren’t funny.

“I don’t care if there’s kids, as long as they stay out of my way” Wahoo said, Corky nodding his head.

Johnny nodded his head. Decision made, tradition will stand and its a full family friendly picnic. With that decided Benny listened to the two new comers talk about Zipco going on about Pinko's, before Wahoo's attention moved to across the way. A smirk formed on his lips before he turned back to Benny.

“Seems ya got an audience” Wahoo mused, slapping Benny’s arm and head gesturing to across from them.

Confused, Benny looked to where Wahoo had been looking. There on a blanket sat four women. Three of them were sitting up right and gawking, while the fourth was lounging back. Out of all of them, she was the one to catch Benny’s attention. The position she was in, her chest sticking out in her tight sweater, was a pleasant sight to the masses. Dark slacks covered her slender legs, making him wonder what they’d be like straddling his bike, or his lap. Over all she was a vixen, no doubt a spitfire, if the air she gave off implied.

Wahoo and Corky kept talking, making comments about the women. But then they talked about her. Voicing Benny’s thoughts. Yet he didn’t like it one bit. He thought those words and thoughts should just be from him, no other man. Feeling his mouth dry, Benny brought the beer to his lips and took a drink. But made sure to keep his eyes on her. The cause for needing that drink.

“You should go over there Benny” Johnny stated, watching the younger man. “Go introduce yourself”.

Benny thought it over, maybe he should. What’s the harm it could do? What’s the worst that could happen? You would say no, that’s nothing. Feeling confident Benny watched as the focus of his gaze put her glasses back on, turned her head, and go back to enjoying the sun. He handed Johnny his half full bottle before pulling out a cigarette and lighting it up, the only time he took his eyes off her. After taking a drag, Benny looked to the women again, slowly releasing the smoke from his mouth.

“I’ll be back” was all Benny said before putting the cigarette back between his lips.

You listened to the sounds the girls made, Pam gushing over when blondie took a drag of his cigarette. You had to stop yourself from turning to look at him, you had to remain calm. You never give a man power over you, and by jumping at any little thing would do that.

“Oh lord! He’s coming this way!” Becky said slapping Pam’s arm. “Do I look alright!?”

“You?! What about me?!” Retorted Pam.

You sighed. “Calm down girls, he’s just a man” you sighed.

“A fine man, yes” muttered Danni.

Once more you sighed before turning your head slightly, watching blondie slowly walking your way. You reminded the girls to stay calm. But part of you was trying to tell yourself it too. Blondie continued to smoke his cigarette, which now you understood the girls reaction. He really did make anything look good. Finally reaching you, blondie came around to stand beside you, before squatting down. He took the cigarette from his lips and flicked it away, done with it.

“Hey” came his gravelly voice. “I'm Benny”. A beautiful smile crossed his sinful lips.

You did your best to keep breathing as you pulled down your sunglasses, looking Benny in the eyes, beautiful baby blues watching your every move. “Hi Benny, I’m (Y/N)” you replied sweetly, smile gracing your lips.

“Hmm, pretty name for a pretty vixen” Benny mused, making you chuckle. “Hey ladies” Benny added looking to the women sitting around you.

They weakly said hi back, unsure of their own voices.

“You know how to get women to quiet down, huh?” You mused pushing your sunglasses back up.

Benny laughed. “Don’t know, never taken notice before”.

You smiled at his honesty.

“But it doesn’t seem to work on you, aye?” Benny asked teasingly.

“Unfortunately, nope” was your simple reply. But in your head you were gushing.

“I like that” he stated looking you up and down. “You got a man?”

You smirked. “Yeah I do. Why? Think you could handle me?”

Benny chuckled, “more could you handle me, baby?”

“I can handle anythin' Benny. I’m not afraid of anythin’”. That was a lie, but you couldn’t back down. Nor could you stop yourself. His attention was electrifying. But part of you feared Benny could make you go weak, could even fall for him and his baby blues.

“Oh is that so?” Benny asked, smirking at the banter between you both.

“Yep” you replied tilting your head back and sighing, knowing full well you were teasing the biker.

And what about Troy? All you thought was Troy who? He had his fun with sweet girls, even though he had a sultry woman. If he was having his cake and eating it too, you could tease another biker. And if Troy hears about it, you didn’t care. You were done with his crap.

“Shame you have a man, as I’d love to take you for a ride on my bike” Benny said, with a sad face. “But, as you said, you have a man...”

You almost caved, melting at his words and sad look. But you stayed strong. It couldn’t hurt to give him some hope, right?

“Hmm, I guess it is for ya. But you never know, play your cards right and you just might get me on your bike”. You pulled down your glasses, shot him a wink before putting them back in their place.

Oh how Benny wanted to groan from your flirty ways, and that wink. Cherry on top. Licking his lips, Benny took a moment to focus. You were clouding his head, but in a good way.

“Alright baby, when you’re ready let me know”.

With that Benny stood up, and took his leave. He walked back to the guys he’d left. You watched him walk away, loving the view. All three women did, was just as good as him walking over. Then they turned their sights on you, all in a state of shock and awe.

“What?” You asked innocently. Though far from it.

All three began to talk, questioning you what just happened? If you were crazy? What about Troy? Could you to teach them your ways, and so on. You ended up laughing with every question. Laughing to the point you ended up laying on the blanket on your back, a hand coming to cover your mouth while sticking the other out in an attempt to stop them.

“Alright, alright. Enough!” You exclaimed, out of breath.

“Seriously (Y/N), what was that?” Asked Danni with confusion.

You shrugged, moving to rest your hands behind your head. “Dunno, but it was fun. Benny is quite the dish, am I right?”

“What about your boyfriend?” Inquired Pam.

Again you shrugged. “He doesn’t have to know”.

Becky scoffed. “Yeah, if you weren’t out in the open, surrounded by people. He’s gonna hear about it”.

“Oh well” you sighed. “Will make things interestin’”.

All three women shared a look. “Maybe. Or cause a brawl”.

You looked to them. “No doubt a brawl will happen. Whoever wins can have me”.

And with that you turned your face back to the sky, closing your eyes and trying to remain calm. Your heart was racing with the thought of Troy flaring up, you enjoy a verbal fight because it would lead to a hot make up session back home. But after learning the truth of what your boyfriend has been up to, you really didn’t want to have words with him. You thought about ending things, but he wouldn’t take no for an answer. So, this could be your chance to drop him.

And Benny. Where do you begin with Benny. The man was gorgeous, dangerously tempting. Plus he was just as taken with you, as you were him. Or else he wouldn’t have been flirting. You’d gladly get on his bike, and let him take you for a ride. Take that anyway you want. Now you would sit back and see what happens.

Benny made it back to his friends, Johnny holding out his beer with a smirk. “Pleasant chat, hmm?”

He smirked taking the bottle. “Yeah, she’s a spitfire”.

The men laughed, Wahoo clapping Benny on the back. The men joked and talked, all about watching Benny and the spitfire. Benny took a swig from the bottle, chuckling at his friends. Glancing back over to her and her friends, Benny noticed that she was now laying on the blanket. It didn’t help him one bit. The things he was thinking he could do to her.

“So, when you taking her for a ride?” Corky asked wiggling his eyebrows, double meaning to his question.

Benny shook his head looking to the male. “She’s got a man”.

“When has that stopped you?” Laughed Wahoo.

Benny laughed at his question, he had a point. “She did say if I played my cards right and I just might get her on my bike”.

Corky and Wahoo hollered and hooted, Johnny just shaking his head with a smile on his face before taking a sip from his beer. Brucie clinked his beer bottle with Benny’s, showing his praise. Benny felt like he was on his bike, riding down an open road, the rush of freedom. But he wasn’t on his bike, or riding the open road. It was because of her. The spitfire, vixen with red lips and sultry presence.

“I take it the boyfriend is here?” Johnny suddenly asked, breaking Benny from thought.

He shrugged. “Probably”.

“I’d expect he’ll hear about you talkin’ to his girl, ya know?”

“Yeah. I can handle him” Benny said without a care, drinking more of his beer.

“The boyfriend should be the worried one” laughed Corky.

They know he was right, but didn’t voice it. They all know Benny was ruthless when it comes to a fight. To the point he has to be pulled off the other guy. Past brawls have proven that. Johnny having to wrap his arms around Benny and drag him back, which is hard when Benny sees red.

“Cross that bridge when it comes” Benny said, ending it there with him walking off.

It was later in the afternoon when Troy finally surfaced, after leaving you with your friends for hours. By now you sitting on the blanket, deep in conversation with the girls. But always keeping an eye on Benny, and seeing he did the same. You might have even kept teasing him, which got the desired effect; want. Yes, you continued to fan the flame, fully knowing that could or would it engulf everything.

Back to Troy; he came stomping over, a couple of his friends behind him. Troy had heard gossip through out the day of some biker hitting on a stunning woman. Gradually all the pieces coming out and he found out that woman was you. Furry filled him. His girl talking to another biker, another biker having the guts to speak to his girl.

“Oh shit!” cursed Danni. “Here comes the consequence”.

Not quiet getting what she meant, you looked over your shoulder to see your boyfriend heading your way. “Well, it took him long enough” you sighed, moving to stand.

Once on your feet, you dusted your legs and behind. Then you fixed your top, not even showing a care in the world. On the inside you were uneasy. Questioning how he was going to react. Would he yell and jump up and down? Would he quietly yell at you? You’re about to find out.

“(Y/N)! What’s this I’m hearin' about some Vandal talkin' to ya!?” Troy questioned, seething with anger.

You raised your bored gaze to him. “Just that, talkin’ to me. And?”

That didn’t help. Troy’s anger rose to furry. He grabbed your arm – tightly – and pulled you close. “What was that! Tell me now what happened or so help me”.

Your straightened up, keeping your face calm, as you tried to pull your arm free. “Troy, let go of my arm. You’re hurtin’ me!” Your voice raised in volume, but fell on deaf ears.

“Tell me if you’re whoring around” he yelled, starting to catch the attention of others.

“Ha. I’m far from whoring around Troy” you gritted out, still trying to free your arm. “Unlike you, of course”.

He growled, shaking you, grip only getting tighter. “What ya sayin’, huh!?”

Before you could think or say anything, you saw a fist come flying and make contact with Troy’s face. His grip finally freeing your arm as he staggered back a few steps. You held your arm, moving back from the man. Finally processing what happened, you turned to see Benny standing there, breathing heavy with tightly clutched fists.

“She asked you to let her go” Benny heaved. “No man should ever grab a woman like you did”.

Benny had just gotten back with Cal, after taking a walk to check out some bikes. Upon his return he witnessed a man, hell bent on reaching his destination, with an anger that only spelt trouble. And when he stopped before you, Benny knew what was to come. A verbal altercation or a physical one to defend you. As soon as he grabbed your arm, Benny began to slowly walk over, Cal and Johnny right behind him. Benny heard everything said. Accusing you of whoring around and his grip tightening to the point you were trying to get free, was what did it. And he swung his fist.

“You alright spitfire?” Benny asked looking over his shoulder at you. Choosing the new nickname over his favorite; baby.

You were putting on a brave face, he could tell but didn’t say anything. “I’m alright. But gonna have a nice bruise”.

Holding his cheek, Troy watched you both. A sneer on his face. “Take it you’re the Vandal this whore was flirtin’ with” he spat.

It only stoked the flame in Benny. How dare this man so easily doubt you, call you a whore. “If anythin’ I’m the one who talked to her” Benny defended flexing his hands, itching to connect them to his face some more.

Troy laughed. “No need to lie for her. She ain’t nothin’ but trouble”.

You felt anger rising, replacing the unease. “Other way around baby” you spat out.

Troy’s laughter died, eyes narrowing in on you. “Stay out of it sweetheart, the men are talkin’”

“Man” you corrected, “I only see one and he’s defendin’ me”.

That got under his skin, and Troy made to go for you but Benny grabbed him before pushing him back. “I wouldn’t even try it”.

Troy laughed dryly. “Might straighten her out”.

That was it, last strike. Benny lost it, fist connecting with Troy’s face again and then again. The first time Troy copped the full hit, but managed to get a half block in. Then he returned Benny’s fists with his own, getting a hit in. You moved away from them, calling out for them to stop but they weren’t listening. Troy’s buddy’s went in to helped their friend, but Cal and Johnny made sure they were taken care of. A full on three way brawl was taking place, with so many on lookers.

Troy managed to dodge Benny and step away from him, but unlucky for him Benny charged at him, tackling him to the ground and waling on him. This was when Cal and Johnny noticed the anger of their friend. Troy’s buddies just watching, afraid to step in to help him. Johnny was the one to grab Benny, but he couldn’t pull him away, until Cal helped him. They were telling Benny to stop, it was enough. Sitting on the grass, both men with him, holding an arm. Benny saw the damage he’d done, to Troy and his own hands. Spitting he went to stand, his friends moving to help him.

“Don’t ever say those words about or too (Y/N) again, or to anyone. Ya hear!?” Benny’s voice was breathless and more gravelly.

Troy just nodded his head, making noises in pain.

Benny turned to you. “Sorry about that spitfire, just don’t like a man disrespecting a woman”.

You nodded, offering a small smile. “Thanks for coming to my rescue”.

He chuckled, “always” and winked. Yet it hurt from getting clocked in the eye.

“Alright, come on. Let’s get ya cleaned up” Johnny said patting Benny on the back, and starting to uncomfortably walk back to his spot.

Cal also patted Benny before walking back too.

Benny looked back to you. “Ya comin’ baby?” He asked, not caring anymore and just calling you what he wanted.

You smiled grabbing your bag and stepping up to him. “Sure Benny”.

He wrapped his arm around you and you both moved to pass Troy, before he grabbed your slacks. “What about me? Ya boyfriend?”

You looked to Benny, before moving from his arm and leaning down to Troy. “It’s over. Plain and simple”.

He sputtered. “Huh!? Who’s gonna look after me!?”

You smiled at his sweetly. “I dunno, maybe ask Anna or Stefanie or Doris to take care of you. Because this whore ain’t ya girl anymore”.

With that, you put Benny’s arm around you again and you both headed over to his friends. You helped clean up Benny’s hands and face. He liked having your attention on him, liked how careful you were cleaning and wrapping up his hands. Once done you took a seat next to him with a sigh, head leaning back against the car you were both sitting beside.

“Sorry you had to step in back there” you said softly. “I didn’t expect that to happen”.

Benny chuckled. “It’s my fault. I struck first, talk later. It’s my style”.

You laughed, a genuine laugh. “Well, how about we both say sorry then”.

Benny nodded. “Sounds good to me”.

A comfortable silence fell between you too. You looked over to your friends, who were glancing at you both occasionally. Were they still your friends? After all they were with other bikers in Troy’s club. So, where does this leave you, with such a public break up too. Only time would tell.

Feeling restless you sat up and turned to Benny. “Your offer still stands for a ride on your bike?”

He looked at you with a raised eyebrow.

“I feel like I need a change of scenery” you gestured to your friends, as well as Troy and his boys further behind the girls.

He nodded before standing. Benny held out his hand and you took it carefully, before he pulled you up, not caring about the pain. You wanted to leave, go anywhere from here and what happened. Leading you to his bike, it didn’t take long for him to get on and start the bike up, the roar catching people’s attention. Without trouble you got on behind him, hands wrapping around his body, hands resting against his firm stomach. Then Benny took off, heading out and onto the road. Letting his bike take you both wherever, and enjoy the freedom it gives you both.

#benny cross x reader #benny cross x y/n #benny cross x you #the bikeriders x reader

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xzaddyzanakinx · 5 months

Text

Not That Kind of Guy

Part Thirteen: Stalker!Anakin Skywalker × femme reader series

Warnings: stalking, weirdo behavior, psychotic/delusional behavior, possessive/protective, sexism/misogyny, sexual content/fantasizing, pervy behavior, panty/scent kink, mask kink(Ghostface), gaslighting/manipulation, public/semi-public, spitting, cumplay, nude vids/pics, masturbation, oral, PIV, dick piercing, forced orgasm, bondage/blindfolds, biting/slapping/spanking/cutting, rape kink, NONCON/DUBCON/CNC, Somno, blood, knife, GEN. SMUT [Be sure to pay attention to future warnings in the series]

Info: Ghost is getting careless, Ghost is sick and tired of the way you make him go off script, post murder sex spree [diary entries from Ani] extremely not proofread. MDNI 18+ [ani wears a vulvodynia tshirt, this song is so vader coded; enjoy]

DATE

1:27 am August 29th

After the initial shock of Ghost’s demands, you quickly realized he was serious in his request. He lunged at you, just to spook you into running because you’d stood frozen like a deer in the headlights.

If only you could’ve seen the absolutely feral grin on his face. His little doe had fawned.

You swung open the bedroom door and shut it behind you, instinctively holding onto the doorknob and using your body as a counterweight to keep the door shut while Ghost laughed and barely tugged at it. Each quick pull made you jolt forward and only proved further how scared you really should be, knowing he was pulling the door open with your full weight on it with just one arm.

If he was serious, really, truly, serious. You wouldn’t have a chance, he’d demolish you in minutes.

You made a decision and made it quickly that your best bet would be to run to the living room and loop around, back to the bedroom and lock him out. At least there was a window in there you could probably climb out of if you actually needed to. The bathroom would just be a death trap.

You hoped that if you let go just as he was opening the door he might stumble, so you tried exactly that. It didn’t work the way you planned, but it did give you a second or two advantage. Though he quickly made up the time after he recovered from pulling the door into his shoulder at full force.

“Ow.” He gritted through his teeth, flipping out the decorative butterfly knife in his right hand, rolling his shoulders back as his towering frame strode across the small living space toward you.

“Ghost what the hell are you doing?” You squealed, grabbing the nearest book to you on your shelf, a paperback romance novel, and chucked it at him.

“Oh no.” He gasped, knocking the book away from him, his gloved hand flying to the gaping maw of his mask. “You gave me a paper cut.”

He twirled his your knife and lunged forward to grab your arm.

“I just want to have some fun, don’t you?” He chuckled, watching you wiggle and squirm to get away from his firm one-handed grip. With a quick motion and a rip of fabric he sliced a hole in the side of Anakin’s t-shirt he’d made you wear.

“Oh my god! What- you could’ve cut me!” You screeched, smacking at his arm with your free hand.

“If I wanted to I would’ve.” He growled, letting go of your wrist and allowing you to stumble backwards.

“I don’t know what I did to make you mad but I’m sorry!” Your voice shook as you backed away from him, scrambling back toward the bookshelf.

“Doe, you didn’t make me angry.” He said, his filtered voice oddly soothing in comparison to the way he was aggressively closing in on you. “You made me hard.”

“And now I’m gonna fuck you like I should’ve out in that dirty alleyway.” He gritted out.

“You ruined it for me you know?” He grumbled kicking the paperback weapon from earlier out of his way.

“What?” You squeaked, “What do you mean? I thought-“

“Yeah, you thought.” He snarled, reaching forward to grab you by the front of your shirt. “That’s the problem.”

“I wanted-“ He huffed when you jolted away from him and grabbed a slightly heavier book off the shelf to hit him with. “Do it. See what happens.” He barked.

He produced a second knife from seemingly thin air, one second his left hand was empty and the next the silver flash of the blade caught your eye. You panicked, two sharpened blades in the hands of a madman did not bode well for your very near future. Choosing purely out of instinct you swung the book at him, hoping to hit him square in the face.

You were too slow, or maybe he was just too fast. Either way, the book connected with the knife in his left hand instead of hitting the mark you’d set out for. He snickered, seeing your frustration and surprise at having speared your own belonging on his blade, your expression quickly fading to a blank-pale faced shock.

His hand shot out in continuance of the fluid sideways stabbing motion. His knife, along with your book, sunk into the wall, getting pinned there until further notice. The drywall cracking from the force of the side of his fist driving in the blade as easily as a pushpin.

“Now, as I was saying,” he sighed, clapping the drywall dust from his leather gloves. He moved quickly to grab you by the hair and drag you to the couch. “You thought, and that ruined my fun.”

“I wanted to pin you down on the nasty pavement and fuck you hard like the useless cocksleeve that you are,” his teeth clenched tightly. “but no. You had to be you, didn’t even give me the chance to offer you a safe word.”

“You’re such a slut that you just let me do it with no fight.” He snorted. “You let me drag you down a dark alley and fuck you. You wanted it so bad you hardly questioned it at all.”

“If I wanted to fuck you nice and slow, if I wanted to give you a choice, real or not... I would’ve done it in that cozy little love nest.” He said angrily, turning your head in the direction of your bedroom and pointing with his rose handled blade.

“See, I’ve got this thing,” he grunted, stabbing his knife into the couch cushion and locking the handles in a fixed position so he use both hands. “you’ve probably heard of it.”

You wiggled and squirmed against his firm grip on your hair, each strand felt like it was ripping from your skull. You reached back and elbowed him in the ribs, making him take a sharp inhale.

“You stupid bitch.” He snapped, spinning you around and grabbing you right beneath your jaw. He squeezed tightly, lifting you up so that you were struggling to stand on your tiptoes.

“You gonna be mad if I smack you?” He asked, his voice low and gravely.

“Yes! What the fuck?” You coughed, your hands gripping his wrist in an effort to keep yourself from choking.

“Will you hate me though?” He asked, tipping his head to the side, a slightly more playful tone in his voice like he knew your answer.

You shook your head ‘no’, holding your breath while a fire lit in your lungs, your vision burning black around the edges. Finally he sat you flat on your feet, if you weren’t light headed before, you sure as hell were now. All the blood rushing back to where it belonged cause your body to momentarily malfunction.

Ghost kept you upright, letting you slump against him for a second before encasing the back of your neck in his firm leather grip, pulling you back far enough away from himself to deliver a rough *smack* to your cheek.

Your eyes flew open, suddenly more alert as he shocked your system back into working order. Plunging you back into dizziness when he threw you forward and bent you over the arm of the couch.

“Hey.” He said gruffly, crouching next to you and pushing your hair from your face. “I gave you a safe word.” He reminded you, “I’m not an ass. If you need to use it just say so, I’ll stop.”

“N-no.” You shook your head, your hands coming up to push your chest off the couch.

“No?” He chuckled. “Never thought I’d find me a girl who likes to get raped.”

“What!? I never said-“

“Nope, shut your fucking mouth.” He said quickly. Taking off his belt at cracking it over the backs of your thighs.

“Fuck!” You screamed, crying out into the couch cushions. “What was that for!?”

He snorted, whipping you with the hard and unforgiving leather again. A shiver running through him when you whimpered and squeezed your thighs together.

“I want you to fight me.” He leaned down, his gritty voice rumbling in his chest against his back. “I know you got it in you baby, you’re just as sick as I am. You’re just not ready to admit it yet.”

“No! No, I… that’s not something-“

“Before you embarrass yourself further,” he sighed, reaching beneath the boxers you wore, he ran his middle finger up your slit. “feel that?”

He was gloating, enjoying making you squirm uncomfortably from your own desires. Ghost wiped your arousal onto your cheek, leaving a slick trail in its wake that gave away how you really felt.

“My pretty pussy is telling on you Doe.” He chuckled. “Now be a good girl and tell me you got wet at the thought of me raping you on the couch you just fucked your boyfriend on. Tell me you wish you weren’t such a cockslut and desperate for dick so I could’ve raped you up against a fucking brick wall.”

“Ghost…” you whined, wiggling to get away from him, but his full body weight was pinning you in place. “Fine!”

“Fine, okay? Yes!” You grumbled, shooting him a glare over your shoulder as he stood up.

“There we go.” He chuckled, “It’s okay princess, I know you have trouble understanding big words.” He taunted.

“Listening, silence, obeying, submitting.” He cooed, looping his belt around your neck and tugging it like a leash. “Very big words for a very stupid whore.”

He took the knife from the couch cushion and brought the flat side of the cool steel to the burning blush of your cheek, lightly scraping the tip across the apple of your cheek and the delicate skin beneath your eye.

“Getting me a fresh kill of venison for dinner tonight baby.” He chuckled, you envisioned a devilish grin, full lips curved upward.

“Maybe you ought to bite down on this.” He said, smacking you with the tail end of the black leather belt before putting it in your mouth for you. “Hate for you to fuck up those pearly whites.”

He grabbed the collar of your shirt, stabbing the knife through the fabric and ripping a hole down the short sleeve. The blade never came close to your skin but the motion was so quick that you felt a rush of air following behind it that may as well have been just as sharp.

You reached back to smack at his hand, spitting out the leather to scowl and yell at him.

“What is your problem today!? I like this shirt!” You kicked at his shin, connecting your heel to the bone in his leg.

“Goddamnit!” He growled, yanking you up by your leash and holding the tip of the knife to the vulnerable flesh above your Adam’s apple.

“That’s better.” He moaned… he moaned. “Fuck, you feel me Doe?” He asked, pressing his cock of steel against your ass.

You answered with a choked ‘uh huh’, trying not to turn blue in the face from the thick leather necklace he’d given you. He removed the knife and dropped the leash, your hands immediately going to claw at it while you coughed.

“Don’t.” He barked, tugging your hair to get your attention.

“I’ll tell you my ‘problem’.” He growled, using his hands to rip the fabric further, exposing your left shoulder blade.

“My bitch.” He snapped, “fucked her boyfriend on this couch. Right in front of me.”

He brought the knife back down to the fabric and this time he allowed the tip to pierce the skin ever so slightly, letting a bead of blood bubble up on your smooth skin as you cried out in a sharp yelp. Lifting the knife he cut another hole in the shirt, repeating the process until it was less than a rag.

“I’m sorry okay?” You yelled, trying to turn yourself over onto your back, hoping that even if it was an awkward angle that maybe you could get a punch in. If he wanted you to fight, you sure as hell were going to.

“What am I supposed to do? Not fuck him?” You shouted, twisting in his grasp until you were able to push against his chest with one forearm.

“He loves you!” Ghost shouted back and you felt your face fall. “Do you- you love him?” He asked, changing the grip of the knife in his hand to prepare for downward strike.

“Wait! Wait- stop!” You squealed, kicking and squirming away from him.

“Ghost! Stop it. Please!” You whined, your voice getting high pitched and squeaky.

“Tell me.” He barked, dragging you down to the coffee table and forcing you down on it, he kneeled with one knee keeping you pinned there, his other foot firmly on the ground.

“No! I’m not-“ you shouted, thrashing around and landing a solid punch to his stomach. “I won’t tell you that!”

He groaned, the sensitive area of his abdomen felt a dull but consistent throbbing. No time to congratulate you on knocking the wind out of a grown man though, he had to get right back to business.

“You won’t?” He laughed, taking the knife and gliding the flat side over the tender flesh of your inner thigh, quickly jerking his wrist and leaving a thin line of red behind.

You swore you saw him physically shudder at the sight of your blood, you are certain however, that you saw him palm his cock.

“Why don’t you wanna tell me?” He asked, his tone sounding cheeky disguised as menacing.

Ghost ripped through the seam of the boxers you wore, pulling them off and exposing your his pussy for his eyes to feast on.

“It’s not your business!” You snapped back and immediately felt the punishment inflicted on your most sensitive area. His gloved hand smacking your pussy with a wet *clap* that drew a scream from deep within the depths of your chest.

“Like hell it is!” He yelled back, barely controlled rage was beginning to ooze from his eyes behind his mask.

“Do you love him?” He repeated, smacking your clit and sending a sharp jolt from your head to your toes while you gritted your teeth and dug your nails into your palms.

“Fucking whore.” He groaned, looking down at your quivering legs and dripping cunt as a new wave of arousal drenched your pussy.

“You don’t have to tell me you love this.” He grumbled, “I can see it.”

You felt something hard and cool circling your entrance, the temperature contrast causing you to gasp and Ghost took that as the perfect opportunity to slide the twin handles of his knife deep into your cunt. His leather glove encased the sharpness of the blade, but that didn’t stop the streak of pure fear that flooded your senses.

The panic was slowly replaced with a new kind of pleasure, one that was dull and curling. Tugging at the muscles encasing your most intimate organs, as if he were trying to ‘cut’ his way into your womb and stake his claim before Anakin could.

It was embarrassing the way you so quickly switched up your attitude. Formerly angry and mouthy, now your brain was too muddled to feel anything but submissive. Ghost was behind you, filming the filthy act with the flash on, acting as though he might suffer a heart attack before he could make you cum. His filming hand was shaky and his chest was heaving in an uneven rhythm.

“Fuck. You’re- I...” He breathed out, “Gods, what the fuck have you done to me?” He asked in a higher pitched voice that almost dropped out of the voice modification.

“C-can’t even stick to my own plans, y-you just…” he grunted, withdrawing the knife handles, watching your cunt clench around them as if trying to suck them back inside.

“Don’t you move, you hear me?” He barked, kneeing you in the side when you didn’t answer him.

“Ow! Fine!” You snapped back at him, trying to turn your head to look at him behind you when his foot came up and gently flexed forward to push your head back to the side.

“You wanna see what I’m doing?” He asked, not waiting for you to answer as he walked in from of where you laid, crouching down and resting his elbows on his knees lazily.

He pinched the knife by the blade between his forefinger, middle and thumb to waggle it in your face. He chuckled at your reaction to seeing your creamy juices coating the handles. He lifted the chin of his mask up slightly, still being careful not to show the slightest sliver of skin as he brought the handles to his lips and sucked them clean. His groan of approval came out distorted, not quite modified, not quite natural.

“Shit.” You whispered, resting your forehead on the cool wood of the coffee table.

“Alright.” He stood up. “Listen, listen good okay?”

You nodded, “Yes Sir.”

“That’s more like it.” He laughed, “Get your ass over there and bend over like I had you before.”

He pointed to the couch with one hand and absentmindedly twirled and flipped the knife in his other while he watched you do as he asked.

“I’m going to do what I want. For as long as I want.” He said plainly. “This isn’t about you. This is about me.”

“Do you understand?” He asked in a tight, clipped sentence.

“Yes Sir.”

“If you want to cum, do it yourself.” He grumbled, “better bite down on that belt baby.”

He stalked over to you and pushed his jeans down around his knees and pulled out his angry red tipped cock. Without hesitation, with no forethought, he plunged himself deep into your cunt and started off with a deep and hard pace. It might’ve been pleasurable had he not decided he’d try to fuck your guts.

He, nor had anyone else, ever pushed so deeply past your folds. Yes he’d kissed your cervix with his cockhead before, so had Anakin. But this? This was beyond that.

In his right hand he gripped your hair, using it as leverage while you futilely tried to stop yourself from jostling around so much by holding onto the backrest of the couch with one hand and the front end with the other.

It was quite useless in Ghost’s opinion, he laughed as he watched you struggle. Each thrust was so forceful that by the end of this brutal punishment you believed he’d have rearranged your living room furniture. The couch scraping across the floor inch by inch.

“Fuck.” He grunted. “I fucking needed this.” He breathed out, his upper body wracked with a shudder as he moaned loudly.

“Perfect little painslut.” Ghost gritted out, you imagined from the way the words left his lips he might need the belt between your teeth more than you did.

“I could fuck this hole- fuck it till it’s raw and sore and bleeding.” He groaned, “And even then, I wouldn’t be finished with you.”

“Shit-“ he gasped, leaning forward he put you in a headlock, his muscles constricted around your throat.

Ghost rested his forehead against the back of your head, looking down your curved back to see your ass rippling with each slap of skin on skin.

“Gonna fuck my cum so deep inside you,” Ghost’s hips stuttered. “so damn deep that stupid little pill will be useless.” He barked out the last part, the true aggression in his voice sent a shiver through you that made a cold sweat break out on the back of your neck.

“Hmph… oh damnit.” He shuddered, slowing down for just a moment to savor the high he felt from feeling your cunt milking him dry.

“You keep moaning like that and your boy across the hall will hear you.” He chuckled, releasing you from the headlock and pushing down on the small of your back to keep you in place, hearing the swish and click of him closing the rose handled knife, feeling it pressed against your hip bone as he held on.

“S-slow please.” You choked out while drooling down the belt between your teeth, feeling as though he might split you in half if he carried on this way.

“I told you to lay here and take it didn’t I?” He grunted, smacking your ass punishment.

“My pussy. My rules.” He barked.

“W-what?” You moaned out, trying to focus your mind on those words, rather than the way he sped up and stole your breath.

“Christ, you’re stupid.” he muttered to himself.

“Shut up, I don’t want to hear you speak unless it’s your safe word.” He growled, shoving your head down into the couch cushions.

Using quick shallow strokes he leaned back to change the angle slightly, making him choke out a half sob at the way your cunt gripped him. His hand left your hip again to flick out the knife blade and drag the cold steel down your spine. He stopped halfway and veered off to the left, digging the sharpened edge of the blade into the thin skin stretched over your ribs.

“Holy-“ you chomped down on the leather belt in your mouth so hard that it squeaked.

“So fuckin’ pretty.” He breathed out, for the first time quiet enough that his modifier didn’t catch it… and neither did you.

“You liked that didn’t you?” His chest rumbling as he spoke. “I felt you squeezing me.”

He didn’t wait for an answer, instead he thinly smeared the blood in a line across your back with the flat side of the blade until he found a suitable spot for a slight nick that had you jolting in surprise.

“Nasty girl.” He chuckled, “you like being fucked dumb and sliced up?”

“Uh huh.” You whimpered, gripping the couch cushions while Ghost leaned back to watch his cock plunging hard and fast into your pussy.

Creamy white cum and your slick coated the base of his cock, he desperately tried to hold himself back from another orgasm but it was damn near impossible when you had just openly admitted to liking his blade on your skin.

Your right ass cheek seemed the best place to cut next, he wanted to feel the warmth of your life dripping from the wound and down his thigh. He wanted to stain his body red in hopes of forming a blood bond, could he convince you to try that?

A surprisingly throaty moan left your lips and tumbled out in a long release of breath, his blade carving a diagonal line that leaked deep ichor down your beautiful skin. The sight of it being smeared and splattered with each piston of his hips had him buckling at the knees.

“Oh my-“ Ghost moaned, his knife clattering to the floor as he grabbed both your hips, purposely spreading the gorgeous red liquid across your skin as he went. “Didn’t think you could get any prettier.” He whispered in a hoarse voice.

He tightened his grip and listened to the squelch and slap of his cock bullying your insides, to the sweet sounds leaving your lips. He basked in the warm drip of your blood and the feeling of your pussy wrapped lovingly around him.

It was all so much. Too much.

With a few more brutal thrusts he came hard, his breath being stolen from his lungs as he shot his load into your depths.

“Fuck yes.” He gritted out, needing some kind of extra outlet for the intense adrenaline and endorphin rush he was experiencing, he punched the wall beside him without a second thought, denting the dry wall and smearing blood. “Hell fuckin’ yes baby.”

“Ghost!” You gasped and flinched at the *crack* of his fist making contact with the wall, “Can you ju-“

“Face down and close your fucking eyes,” he growled, shoving his cock back in his pants and tugging his jeans up. He saw you begin to part your lips and he interrupted. “that wasn’t a question goddamnit!”

You obeyed, closing your eyes and pressing your face into the couch cushions, hearing rustling coming from behind you. Ghost tossed his mask on the coffee table and took off his sweatshirt and tshirt, scrunching the shirt to create a makeshift blindfold, there was no time to go to your room and get the nice pretty silk handkerchief he’d bought for this purpose exactly. He needed this now.

He slipped it over you head and tightened it, then you felt the weight of his body push down on the couch cushion beside you, his still-gloved hands grabbing you by the shoulders and manhandling you over to sit sideways in his lap.

“What are- oh my god.” You gasped quietly feeling his bare skin for the first time, leather gloves guided you out of what was left of your shirt.

“Gh-“ You wanted to know why. Why was he doing this? Why now? But he shut you up by pulling you flush against his chest and descending upon your mouth.

He kissed you like his life depended on it. He kissed you like death when he lifts your soul from your lips. Ghost kissed you like you were the one who was consuming him. It was messy, desperate, and horribly quiet. The only noises being that of your lips and tongue clashing together and the sound of your mixed heavy breathing.

He was maskless. He couldn’t speak, he didn’t even want to let loose a single moan. So you did, you made enough noise for the both of you. Breathless gasps and whiny ‘mhhhhmm’s pierced his skull and wormed their way into his brain to take up permanent residency.

He had a tongue piercing… unexpected but definitely not unwanted. The metallic clicking was hypnotic in a way, tongues dueling carelessly between the two of you, so eager to taste more, to feel more. You know now that the strange, smooth thing that had accompanied his tongue while he had licked at your folds to wake you up, was the same jewelry that ran across the roof of your mouth while you felt up every square inch of bare skin on his body.

You never imagined that flesh could be such a sexy thing. Of course, it’s nice to look at on the body of someone you’re attracted to. Though feeling the flesh of a man who’d deprived you of seeing it, touching it; it was better than any drug on the market. With your brain fuzzy and addled with repeating thoughts of Ghost, he only made it worse by bringing your hand down to feel his half hard cock.

He had explored you in endless ways, countless times and now he was finally giving you the opportunity to do just alittle bit of the same for him. It didn’t last long however. Soon enough he was back to the domineering presence you’d come to know.

Slower this time, more carefully, he laid you back down on your stomach on the couch. Ghost pulled both your palms up to your ears to encourage you to create a sound barrier between you and whatever it was that he was about to do.

His tender lips caressing your back in feathery kisses, gentle and loving in a way you’d never received from Ghost before. His lips then made their way to your still trickling wounds, licking up the blood around the nick mark, a simple and tiny cut that was easily cleaned up. The longer, deeper wound across your ribs prompted him to get down on his knees in front of the couch.

Ghost leaned forward and licked the length of the bloody split in your flesh. A deep, rumbling moan left his unashamed lips. He was so unashamed in fact, that he found himself instantly rock hard again.

That just wouldn’t do. This is about him after all.

So he pulled himself free once more and spit a mixture of your blood and his saliva into his glove, setting to work on his throbbing and greedy cock. As he pumped his shaft his lips sucked and pulled at the wounded skin on your side, draining it of blood only to pull back and watch the pretty red reappear.

“That stings!” you whined as you pushed his head away.

A puff of air from his nose was your only response before he swatted your hand away and returned it to your ear. He did listen though, choosing to gently lap it up until the flow stopped almost completely.

Languidly stroking himself he held his breath for a moment, afraid he might let out a whimper more embarrassing than he ever had before. He moved behind you once more and licked up the blood from the last cut he’d made. He lapped up the last trickles of blood from your soft skin and kneeled behind you. Tapping your hip he signaled you to arch your back and lift up so he could get a better view of your poor abused cunt.

The pink and puffy folds looked even more enticing as he spit a fat glob of your bloody mixture at your center.

“Can’t… Ghost please.” You whined, your body sore and aching from overuse. “No more, I can’t.”

There was no verbal answer. Ghost ignored your pleas and left them unpunished, repositioning himself at your sopping wet hole. He easily slid in, letting out a shaky breath at the feel of your heated gummy walls. Slowly he rocked his hips into you, gently as though he were trying to soothe you after all the rough treatment.

You let yourself relax and accept his tender touches and unspoken apology. You were shaking from exhaustion, your mind too blank to do anything other than breathe and feel the pleasure of his cock moving inside you. With your ears still covered Ghost took the opportunity to tell you something that he’d been terrified of doing.

“My little doe.” He whispered as quietly as he could, “It’s me. It’s Anakin.”

Diary Entry: August 29th

Honestly doll. I don’t know how you survived yesterday, if my dick hurts… I can only imagine how your poor little pussy feels.

You handled it so well. Taking inch after inch, over and over again for me. All. Damn. Day.

The best part? You loved every second of it just as much as I knew you would. You loved the rough way I fucked you as myself. The loving way I made you mine.

But the way you took Ghost… after tucking away that little piece of Anakin that lives in him, (the bit that won’t fucking stick to the goddamn plan because you’re so… there’s not even a word for it. You know what I mean though.) I got to do what I needed.

Damn I desperately needed it. Don’t get me wrong little doe, I love regular sex with you. You know, the normal kind of kinky. A bit of hair pulling, some spanking, a little spit, the baby steps to the bigger shit.

The kind of kinky last night is the kind of shit that would get me committed if my mother found out about it. But is it really my fault that you’re so fuckable? No. It’s not. It’s not my fault that your pussy just so happens to fit the handles of my knife. It’s not my fault that you liked it either.

You can’t even be mad, so don’t go pretending you are next time I see you as Ghost. You can’t be mad because you leaked that sweet pussy nectar down my cock for two hours and 13 minutes, last night. Never heard the safe word and I’m not convinced that I will ever hear it.

You freaky bitch.

If I wasn’t already as depraved as I am, I’d be a bit concerned. You really tried your best to fight me, you tried your best to listen, you put in the effort. But your tiny little brain can only handle so much cock before it turns to mush. That’s my favorite, when I feel you start to relax, feel your breath change, see those pretty eyes go hazy. My perfect sex doll.

I like it when you go limp.

You know what I really liked about last night? I could feel the exact moment that I pushed you past a ledge you’d never even seen coming on the horizons of your imagination. You started to *shake*. You were limp and shaking beneath me, so exhausted you couldn’t muster up the strength to hold yourself up anymore. So drained that you couldn’t even moan correctly anymore.

And you still let me keep fucking you.

I can officially say that I have fucked you awake, I have fucked you in your sleep and I have fucked you to sleep.

I joked about it as myself with you, made you take your meds early and everything, I held you in my arms and let you wean yourself off my fingers and fall into dreamland.

But Ghost was relentless in his efforts to make you go unconscious via dick. I decided I earned a little treat for that. I haven’t decided what it will be yet but I’ll make it good. How many men can say that they’ve lovingly fucked someone into unconsciousness?

Oh! Just me? Nice.

So, you know I love the way your pussy tastes, but let me tell you something I never thought would leave my lips. I found something that is almost a tie for first place.

You bleed so beautifully. It’s truly a spectacle to behold, the crimson just compliments your skin so well. Next time… I’m taking off my gloves. I need to feel it in my hands, that slippery warmth that gives you the radiant life you live. That’s the closest I’ll ever get to holding your soul.

The coppery sweetness was more delicious that the finest wine that money can buy. I don’t give a shit if it’s got notes of birchwood and bullshit. Nothing can compare.

I get it now, the whole thing with people thinking vampires are sexy. What could be hotter than draining the life flowing through the veins of the one you love? What could top that ego boost from the trust you placed in me when I put that blade against your skin? I held the key to your existence in that moment, you’d be gone if I had stuck the blade in and twisted it to unlock death’s door.

But let’s not even think of that, I’d die before I ever let you.

Let’s focus on how rude it is that our blood types are not the same. I would’ve signed myself up for phlebotomy schooling if we shared blood types. Give myself a weekly transfusion. Humane and more socially acceptable vampirism.

Oh well, I prefer to taste it anyway.

It’s like a savory type of chocolate. You know those molten lava cakes? That’s what it’s like to cut into you and have a bite.

P.s. It was so fucking cute how you reacted to my bare skin and kisses. I used to be the one on the verge of collapse at every slight touch, seems like we’ve switched places.

P.p.s. I will be replacing your book and fixing your walls. I’m not sure what came over me when I punched the wall, that was like very uncalled for. Oops.

DATE

August 29th

When you awoke after your night of… activities, you were sore and tired in a way you hadn’t ever been before. Like the will to stand on your own two feet had been forcibly taken from you. As much as you wanted to get up and be productive, the ache between your legs refused to allow you any relief from the discomfort you felt. You needed to go to the hardware store and find something to fix the walls before Anakin came over later.

It would be difficult enough to come up with a cover story for the cuts across your back, but impossible to give a reason for the cracked drywall and the knife blade shaped slit in the opposite side. Once you finally gathered up enough determination to brave the wobble of your knees you stood up and exited your bedroom.

Ghost was too busy chatting, flicking the end of Boogie’s tail while he waited for your coffee to brew, to notice you’d waddled out of your bed to go to the bathroom. You could barely make out the faint white of his mask in the dim, curtain-blocked, morning light of the kitchenette, out of instinct you flipped the light switch and screeched in surprise.

You’d truly thought you might’ve just imagined him standing there and were shocked to realize he was flesh and bone. A flash of pale skin and black ink disappeared behind the counter top and re-emerged covered in leather. He had taken off one of his gloves to give Boogie some good morning pet-pets.

“Sorry doe.” He said apologetically, “I didn’t mean to spook you.”

“What are you doing?” You asked, your hand still resting on the light switch.

“Having a philosophical meeting of the minds.” He said, tapping Boogie on top of her head.

You scowled, “Anakin will kill you if he comes here and sees you. He has a key you know.”

“He won’t kill me.” Ghost chuckled, “He’s got a key? Nifty, so do I!” He added sarcastically.

“You didn’t really answer my question. Why are you still here?” You asked, eyes searching the room for anything out of order.

“Mmm yeah, that’s not what you asked me.” He chuckled, pulling open your silverware drawer and grabbing a spoon. “I’m not still here. I came back.” He answered as he scooped an unhealthy amount of sugar into your hello kitty mug.

“Okay… but why?” You held your hand palm up in questioning.

“I have important business to attend to.” He shrugged, pouring your coffee for you and stirring it into the sugar.

You pursed your lips but didn’t argue back, your eyes flicked back down to his now covered hand and back up to his face before turning to finish your initial quest.

“Where ya going baby?” He asked, staying behind the counter with his hands in his pockets.

“I have to pee.” You mumbled.

“M’kay.” His filtered voice rumbled as he turned to stop the microwave from dinging to signal your brown sugar oatmeal was finished cooking.

He did not however catch your cinnamon swirl toast in time and the shrill noise the appliance made sent the cat scrambling off the counter and knocking a few miscellaneous items into the floor. He stooped down and picked them up, placing them back on the counter top.

After your food was ready he sat it at the bar for you to sit and eat at while he got to work on setting out the supplies he’d bought to fix the walls and clean the couch. He walked to the bathroom and knocked on the door with two knuckles.

“Hey, you have some gloves in there don’t you? Like for when you dye your hair?” He asked, having realized it would probably be difficult to spackle the walls in leather gloves.

“Yes?” You responded confusedly.

“Good, open the door.”

“What? No!” You scoffed, standing naked and preparing to hop in the shower.

“Doe just open the damn door.” He grumbled, listening to you rustle around behind the locked door.

“Here.” You huffed, opening it just a crack and thrusting your hand out to drop the gloves into his.

“Thanks. You should hurry, I made you breakfast.” He said in an oddly warm tone.

“You did?” You asked, opening the door just a bit more to look at him.

“Yeah. I know you well enough to know you planned on going straight to that couch and not moving until forced to.” He thumbed over his shoulder. “I also know you well enough that I called in sick for you today.”

You stared at him for a minute, he called your work for you? That means someone at your work must’ve heard his real voice right? A bubble of jealousy formed in your gut at the thought that one of your coworkers heard Ghost’s voice before you did.

“What?” He asked sharply.

“Nothing… thank you.” You shook your head, eyes wide as you contemplated calling the diner to ask if they recognized the voice.

You mulled it over while you were in the shower, weighed the pros and cons while dressing yourself in some lounge clothes, and thoroughly pondered it as you ate your breakfast and watched Ghost work.

It was comical to see him being so domestic, kind of like seeing a documentary about a wolf pup raised as a house pet. It could snap and destroy the house, destroy you at any moment. Just like Ghost.

But there he was, Fixing his mistake in the most calm and collected way possible. It was a soothing process to watch, score the damaged drywall with an exacto knife, break it off in a clean, straight line with a satisfying snap. Cut the mesh to cover the now smooth edged square of missing drywall, **zzzzrrip** the weirdly thin and fabric-y tape to hold it in place. Then came the best part, watching him patch it over with pink spackle, smooth it out as best he could then watch it turn from pink to greyish white as it dried.

“Where’d you learn to do that?” You asked, sipping your coffee and staring at his hands. The thin blue latex was almost stretched enough to make out the blob of the tattoo you’d caught sight of earlier.

“Summer job as a teenager.” He answer shortly, it’s not like he could give specifics. He’d spoken of his handyman work with his god-father to you before.

“So you don’t work in construction or something like currently?” You asked, trying to cross out a few ‘maybe’ identities of people tall enough and lean enough to fit Ghost’s build.

“No.” He snorted and looked over at you, his knowing smile might as well have been visible from the body language.

“Don’t give me that look.” You huffed, “I’m narrowing down my list.”

“I know you are.” He laughed. “That’s why it’s funny.”

“Well I know you don’t work in construction and you have a hand tattoo…” You crossed your arms and scrunched up your nose to accompany a sassy head bobble.

You’d caught his attention, he turned to fully face you, one arm across his chest and the other’s elbow resting on his fist as he held the putty knife covered in spackle away from his body.

“Hand tattoo?” He repeated in low accusatory way.

“Yeah, you have one.” You pointed toward the hand he held the putty knife in.

“What is it?” He asked, walking a few steps forward.

“I don’t know I just saw a blur of it earlier this morning.” You said, shifting uncomfortably in your chair.

He stood and stared, studying your expression and seeking the truth. After finding no evidence of deceit he nodded and turned back to resume his work on the wall. Every so often you caught him taking a peek over his shoulder at you, like he was suspicious after hearing you’d seen a part of him he hadn’t willingly shown you.

“Are you mad?” You asked anxiously, his whole demeanor had changed so quickly that it was a bit frightening and not in a good way.

“No.” The word was clipped and gruff as he cleaned up his tool and put the lid on the small bucket of spackle.

He walked back to the other wall and sanded the, now dry, patch until it was smooth enough to paint over and blend into the wall as if nothing had happened. You walked over and had planned to sit down on the couch but you realized it covered in some kind of weird clumpy power and damp to the touch.

“Gross, what is this?” You whipped your head around to ask Ghost.

“OxyClean and dish soap.”

“Why?”

“You bled all over the couch.” He responded, you hadn’t seen any blood spots, but there were definitely wet patches where he’d scrubbed the upholstery. He’d also… super glued the knife slash in the fabric back together, how very him of him.

“Okay but like why is it still on the couch?” You asked curiously.

“It needed to sit for longer.” He huffed like he was irritated with your questions.

“Oh, well I can finish it then.” You offered, hoping it might appease him.

“No, I started it. I will finish it.” He kept his words clipped, not hiding that he wasn’t interested in speaking to you right now.

“Okay then.” You snapped back at him, turning on your heel and stomping back to your bedroom and slamming the door shut.

The sharp noise startled Ghost and he whipped his head around instinctively. His jaw clenched tightly, upset with himself for being upset with himself. He didn’t mean to be an ass either, he just needed some time to accept that he’d fucked up and almost exposed his identity because he wanted to pet the fucking cat.

He groaned and turned back around, pounding lightly on his forehead of his mask with both fists in frustration. Bending down to pick up his cup but knocking it over and spilling what was left in it.

“Are you fuckin’ serious?“ he growled and gritted his teeth “damnit!”

Lucky for Ghost he wasn’t using a glass cup, no shattered mess to clean up. He instead was unlucky enough to be using a large metal, insulated tumbler, which made a very loud and reverberating *dtink* when he kicked it with his socked foot across the living room. Before the cup had the chance to land he had already picked up his foot and leaned one arm on the wall as he flexed his toes, it fucking hurt and his fist collided with the wall in anger, this time going straight through the drywall and into the wooden bracers behind it.

“Aw- fuck, goddamnit,” he pulled his fist from the wall and shook it out, grabbing his wrist and rolling his hand while flexing his fingers, “stupid son of a-“

“I need a cigarette.” He huffed, not bothering to put on shoes as he stalked over to the window and opened it, grabbing his bag on the way.

Diary Entry: August 30th

Sorry for putting three holes in the wall.

I’ll admit that was alittle bit much. But it’s all fixed now and in the past so let’s not dwell on it. We’ve got more important things to do! Like taking you to the movies for a little date night.

Some kind of comedy thing for girls. I’m expecting it to be like that one with Melissa McCarthy. It looks stupid as hell which is a good thing because it’ll be funny even if it’s not. I don’t really care what we watch, you just told me no romance cause it’s ‘cheesy’.

Which makes no sense because your whole bookshelf is a giant collection of random species bangin’ each other. I mean seriously, I cracked one open cause the cover looked pretty and the first thing I saw was ‘the muscular werewolf thrust his-‘

That’s as far as I got before I went blind from fear.

DATE

August 31st

Anakin whistled low and gave you a cheeky smirk that crinkled the corners of his eyes. Seeing you coming into your bedroom in just a towel, skin still damp from the shower. You popped your head up with a slight gasp of surprise, not realizing he’d come in while you were still in the bathroom.

“Sh-“ you grinned, realizing it was just him and shook your head at him. “You scared me!”

“Boo.” He snickered as he laid back in your bed with his arms resting behind his head, his legs crossed at the ankles.

“Ani, are we going casual or are we going fancy?” You asked, walking over to your closet and flicking through clothes.

You looked over your shoulder to get his opinion and had to do a double take, your cat walked across the bed and kneaded Anakin’s shirt before laying down on his chest. A flash of an image that you refused to see clearly tried to blend with the scene before you.

“Ah-Anakin?” You asked in a slightly louder voice. “Clothes?” You blinked a few times, trying to rid yourself of the lines forming between your eyebrows.

“Oh sorry doll, I got distracted.” He cleared his throat and tossed his phone aside. “Clothes? Whatever you want, you’re pretty in everything.”

“I’m wearing this.” He added gesturing to the ripped black jeans and a Vulvodynia tshirt. “And my TUKs for my tootsies.” He pointed toward the bedroom door where the lace up boots sat neatly against the wall.

“So how about this then?” You held up a shirt and a pair of pants on their hangers.

“I told you whatever you want babydoll.” He chuckled, “although if you really want my opinion I’ll give it to you.”

“I really do.” You nodded, jutting out your hip.

“Keep the shirt… grab that one real long skirt, the one with the open bit on the side.” He said, reaching down to trace a line up his calf to his knee. “Maybe those sandals with the thick bottoms.”

“A skirt?” You asked, making a face.

“Doll, you know I like it when you wear skirts and dresses.” He poked out his bottom lip in a pout. “You’re my girl, my pretty princess no matter what you wear… but you did ask for my opinion.” He tilted his head, toying with his lip ring and nodding toward your closet.

You got out the long black maxi skirt and paired it the shirt and shoes, walking over to the bedside. Anakin shooed off the cat and sat up to swing his lanky legs off the edge of the bed, he reached up to tuck your shirt into the high-hemmed waistband and then tugged it back out slightly to make it alittle loose.

“Damn. That’s my baby.” His voice low and gritty as he stood up to wrap his arms around your waist, his hands pressing you close to his chest to give you a chaste kiss on your forehead.

“C’mon sweet girl.” He patted your ass to get you moving, following behind you to slip into his boots.

“Wait, hold on.” You said, holding up a finger and jogging to your bathroom, re-emerging with a lint roller.

“Really?” He groaned and pulled the hem of his shirt to make the fabric taut.

“Yes really. When you wear all black and live with a cat you have to lint roll yourself Ani.” You rolled your eyes and aggressively rolled the sticky paper over his clothes.

“It’s a waste of paper, it’s bad for the environment.” He mumbled, turning around to let you get his back too.

“Your attitude is bad for my environment.” You muttered under your breath.

“What did you just say?” He snickered.

“You heard me.” You grinned, tossing the lint rolled back into the bathroom cabinet.

“Yes I did. I’m just a bit confused, when did we have children and why are you the father?” He snorted.

“Ha-ha, we’ve both made dad jokes. Let’s go.” With your hands on mid back you pushed him toward the door, making him laugh.

Waiting in line for popcorn with Anakin took much longer than you would’ve liked and he was beginning to get antsy. He stood behind you, his hands on your hips and his chin resting atop your head, clicking his teeth together to the tune of some song stuck in his head. His fingers drumming along as well, tapping across your hip bones.

“Oh thank fuck.” He sighed dramatically, stepping to the side of you and grabbing your drinks and popcorn.

“You act like we didn’t just eat like two hours ago.” You rolled your eyes and gave him a smile, watching him hold both drinks and the huge bucket of popcorn.

He bent his head down and ate a few pieces straight from the bucket, “That was two hours ago, this is now.” He swallowed and went right back in for another bite or two.

“You know I can carry something. So you can eat with your hands.” You laughed, passing by other theater rooms on the way to yours.

“No, I got it sweetheart.” He said softly, giving you a warm look. “I’m pretty good with my mouth anyway. Aren’t I baby?” He teased, licking the inside of his cheek while he watched your cheeks heat up.

“Shh!” You giggled and grabbed his upper arm, steering him into the correct theater room and up the steps to the top row. “Yes, you are.”

“Hands too?” He asked after putting your cups in the cup holders and helping you get settled. He lifted up the armrest between the two of you and snaked his arm behind you, scooting you closer and squeezing your ass.

“Hands too.” You whispered, the blush on your cheeks was red hot by now and you were thankful for the dark and sparse room.

“What about my c-“

“Perfect!” You said quickly, clapping your hand over his mouth while Anakin chortled behind your palm.

“Poor little princess?” He cooed, pinching your thigh and making you squirm. “Feeling all flustered? Out in public? Naughty thing.”

“Anakin Skywalker!” You whisper-shouted smacking at his hand that wandered from your ass to your upper thigh.

“Bet I could make you cum before the previews are over.” He leaned down, his lips brushing your earlobe.

“It’s okay babydoll, it’s just you and me up here.” His voice was soothing and much too convincing to ignore completely. Especially when he sat aside the popcorn in the next seat over and palmed his cock to adjust himself.

His hand gripped the back of your neck and tilted your head toward him, his lips meeting yours in a slow, sensual dance. He bunches up your skirt to your knees, picking up on leg and hooking it over his thigh to give him easier access.

“Need you to be quiet pretty girl, think you can do that f’me?” Anakin’s deep, sultry voice fanned over your jaw as he kissed the side of your neck.

“Mhm.” You nodded, keeping your mouth closed to avoid the moan you knew was going to follow his fingers slipping past your panties and running through the slick mess between your pussy lips.

“Keep that mouth open.” He whispered, smiling when you obeyed, dropping your jaw slightly “That’s a good girl.”

Anakin swirled his fingers around your entrance, twisting his wrist slowly as he gently pushed inside. Scissoring his fingers along the top wall, focusing the varied pressure on the spongey spot that took your breath away.

He smiled, tucking his head against your neck, tilting it to the side as he rocked his hand against you, “Grind on my hand princess, show me how nasty my angel can be.”

The heel of his palm was pressed firmly against your clit to help you get the friction you needed as his fingers worked their magic on your inner walls. Massaging wide circles as you bucked against his hand.

“Ani…” you whispered, grabbing his wrist and trying to move his hand away.

“Shh.” He silenced you with his lips on yours, his tongue laving away at yours. His soft, plump lips cradling yours in a moment of pure brain fog for you. He’d completely erased your knowledge of your surroundings, blacked your vision and muffled the sounds around you until all you could hear was his heartbeat as he put his hand over your mouth and tucked your head against his chest.

“Doing so good f’me,” he whispered into your hair, “you’re gonna cum when I tell you to okay?”

“You think you can handle that princess?” He asked, pressing his warm lips to your temple.

You nodded, tilting your head back to look up at his crystal blue eyes. He gave you a soft smile, kissed the tip of your nose and nudged your cheek so that you’d turn your head to the side. He licked the shell of your ear, nibbling along the curve of the cartilage down to your earlobe, his hot breath fanning over your flesh.

“I love you.” He whispered, telling you again and not expecting an answer, even though you gave him one nonverbally.

Your pussy squeezing his fingers tightly in response to the words, he wasn’t convinced that it could just be coincidence so he said it again, his voice gritty and low.

“I love you, my girl.” He kissed your jaw, his lips curving into a smile when he felt your pussy flutter again.

“Oh, I see.” He chuckled lowly, pulling back to see your eyes rolling back in your head. He shifted his hand over your mouth slightly and pinched your nose, cutting off your air supply completely.

You tried to suck in a deep breath out of surprise, getting choked on nothing as a result, your eyes opened in panic but you calmed slightly seeing the serene and loving look on Anakin’s face.

“Ready?” He asked, watching your face.

“Three.” He whispered, speeding up his ministrations, your hands clenching tightly, nails digging into your fists, your vision getting blurry.

“Two.” His thumb moving your clit and flicking over it rapidly, making you jump and whimper behind his hand.

“Shhh quiet.” He whispered, kissing the top of your head and breathing in your scent as your lungs began to burn.

“One.” His lips brushing across your ear have you cold chills down your back as you willed yourself to stay as silent as possible while Anakin cradled your head to his chest, he released your nose to let you breathe. The rush of lightheadedness made you cum even harder, curling yourself up against him and trapping his hand between your thighs.

You stayed like that for a moment, catching your bearings and recalibrating your senses. After he released your mouth you did the same for his hand, but kept your legs draped over him for the comfort of having him hold you. He sucked his fingers clean and wiped them off on his jeans, picking up his drink and taking a long sip of blue slushee just as the title card of the movie flashed on screen.

“See, told you.” He said casually, his other arm around your waist, rubbing your side languidly.

——————————————————————————

“You look so sleepy.” Anakin laughed, petting your hair as he walked with you up the stairs in your apartment building.

“I am so sleepy!” You pouted.

“Oh poor wee baby.” He cooed, pinching your sides and picking you up to lug you over his shoulder down the hall to your apartment.

“It’s only 9:00pm.” He said, unlocking your door and setting you down in the entryway. “You ready for bed?”

“Yes, extremely.” You nodded, shuffling toward your bathroom to take off your makeup and brush your hair.

“Well shit baby, did I really mess you up that bad?” He asked, following behind you with a guilty look on his face.

It was your turn to feel guilty now. You can’t tell him the truth can you? The lies and omissions were beginning to affect you in ways you hadn’t expected. You were beginning to see things that simply couldn’t be reality, making making connections by snipping threads and tying the ends in an order that forced things to make sense.

You felt your palms begin to sweat and couldn’t meet his pretty blue eyes as you lied to the man who loves you.

“Mhm.” You nodded, your eyes flickering to his brow bone to give the illusion you were gazing into his eyes just as adoringly as he was looking into yours. “You’ve been wearing me out Ani.”

“In a good way? Have I hurt you?” He asked, cupping your cheeks up with his soft, careful hands.

Did you even deserve those soft touches?

“Oh, no Ani you didn’t hurt me.” You shook your head quickly.

‘At least that wasn’t a lie.’

“Okay princess… do you need me to get you anything?” Anakin took the washcloth from your hands and finished wiping the black streaks from under your eyes, grabbing the brush and running it through your hair. The bristles scratching your scalp just the way you like it.

“No, just you.” Your quiet voice floated up to him, he watched your lips moving in the mirror and it was clear to him that something had severely dulled your mood.

“Alright, let’s put you to bed then sweetheart.” He set aside your brush, kissing the top of your head and steering you toward the bedroom.

Anakin squeezed your shoulder and turned away to retrieve a pair of pajamas, a matching set you’d put on and took right back off just a few days ago. The sight of it nearly caused you to burst into tears, it was just fabric, nothing more that soft threads and stitching. Though seeing it in his hands made you feel sick to your stomach.

He handed them to you with a soft smile, slipping from his jeans and out of his shirt until he was left in just his boxers. He flung back the covers and snuggled down under the blankets on your side of the bed.

“What are you doing?” You asked, the corner of your lip twitching into a smile.

“A certain little lady hates cold sheets, so I’m making ‘em warm.” He said as he pulled the covers over his head with a contented ‘mmm’.

He was sweet, too sweet for you. Too kind, too thoughtful, too good. You were right about him in the beginning, he is too good to be true, though it’s no fault of his own. It’s you who is to be blamed.

With the lights switched off and the bedroom door shut, you magnetized yourself to Anakin after he had rolled into his spot and pulled you to his chest. His warmth seeping through your flesh as a balm for the wounded soul that wallowed in the center of your chest.

Diary Entry: August 31st

Have I let this go on for too long?

I feel like I’ve pushed us past the point of no return, your stress around me, my myself… it’s tangible. Like you’re worried you’ll say or do the wrong thing. I never intended for that. I didn’t intend for this to go on as long as it has at all.

I should’ve banished Ghost to The Pit after you’d accepted me into your life. I should’ve hung up the mask and retired my persona. I’ve always had trouble knowing when enough is enough, when to stop. It’s a difficulty that I’ve yet to overcome and probably never will.

It’s confusing for me, I can only imagine how confusing it is for you. You’re in the middle of it all, you are the center of my world, the sun in my star system. And because you are my everything, I will do anything to keep it that way. To keep you.

DATE

September 2nd

Anakin paced the living room of his apartment, his thoughts traveling faster than a bullet train with a nitro boost. You would be arriving any minute now, you called your sister, you called Luke, but you texted him.

Yes he could hear your calls, but that only gave him half the information he needed. Information you were on your way to share with him.

Anakin was disappointed in himself. He should’ve bugged your backpack long ago, you take it almost everywhere. He could’ve caught the conversation you shared with your sister over lunch the day before. He would’ve been prepared for news, he would’ve had time to plan and time to practice.

What other conversations had he missed out on? Who else have you spoken to?

He was so caught up in his pondering and pacing that he failed to notice your appearance at the bottom of the stairwell, showcased on his laptop.

“Shit.” He muttered, palms tingling before beginning to sweat as he heard the doorknob click and turn. Anakin rushed to the coffee table and shut his laptop quickly, just as you entered the room.

You glanced toward his hand on the sleek metal and up to his face, a blank expression met you where there would usually be a wide goofy grin. You started to say something but stopped short when your phone buzzed, glancing down at it as you lifted the screen upward a *ping* sounded on Anakin’s laptop.

You watched as he picked it up and opened it to view the screen, he sat down heavily on the couch and started typing, looking up at you and beckoning you over with and wave of his hand.

“Sit with me sweetheart, s’just mom.” He rolled his eyes, tapping away at his keyboard replying to a non-existent message from Shmi.

He shut it down and sat it aside again, opening up his arms to let you lay against his chest. Giving you a light squeeze as you settled down, running his hands down your back.

“So, this weekend me, my sister and Luke are going out to the lake.” You started, putting one hand on his chest and resting your chin there.

“Oh?” His eyebrows raised, the lower half of his face remained unchanged.

“Yeah! We do it almost every year.” You smiled, “we get a cabin for a weekend and well usually Luke’s sister comes too but you know she just had the baby not too long ago so she’s not too keen on leaving just yet.”

“Sounds like fun doll.” He nodded, “Are you excited?”

“I am…” your smile faded slightly, noticing something about his tone wasn’t quite right.

“That’s good sweetheart, I bet you’ll have a great trip.” He pushed your hair behind your ear and put his palm on the back of your head to flex his fingers and gently scratch your scalp. “No skimpy little swimsuit, this bangin’ body is for me.” He teased, lightly kneading your ass.

You wanted to smile and giggle, to chide him for his comment but it didn’t feel right. His internal light seemed dimmer, a flickering bulb before it burns out with a *pop*.

“Is everything okay?” You whispered, feeling like if you spoke to loudly you might startle him.

“Huh? Oh yeah princess.” He nodded, giving you a little smile. “Sorry, I’m just feeling a little bit too in my head today.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” You asked him, watching his face shift for just a split second into something you didn’t quite recognize.

“Ah well it’s nothing really.” He shook his head, the corner of his mouth turning up.

“No, there’s something wrong I can tell.” You pressed on, a twist in you guts telling you the worst scenario had come to fruition.

“Just- it’s fine okay?” He answered in a curt, snippy tone.

“Ani…” you reached up and played with his lip piercings, tracing them in a feather light touch that he found soothing.

“I’m irritated.” He scowled, picking up a hand from your back and running it through his hair. You opened your mouth to speak and he shushed you quickly.

“You wanted me to talk, I’m talking.” His voice sharp. “I don’t like that you didn’t discuss this with me beforehand. You’re going somewhere without me, somewhere I’ve never been. How am I supposed to know you’ll be safe?”

“This should’ve been a topic of discussion. You should’ve spoke to me before agreeing to it.”

“I go on this trip every year, it’s perfectly safe. It’s very calm, there’s not many people. I’ll be just fine Anakin.” You sighed, not particularly enthused about his attitude.

“I feel purposely left out. I like to be included in decision making when it comes to you, I don’t think you’d be very happy if I decided to go on a weekend trip without telling you until after I had decided I was going.” His voice raising slightly, his heart beat quickening beneath your palm.

“I wouldn’t have told you no.” He scowled, “but now I want to.”

“Anakin.” You furrowed your eyebrows, “I… I should have talked to you. You’re right, I would be upset if you decided to go somewhere with talking to me first.”

“But I don’t think it’s fair for you to tell me I can’t go.” You added, pushing off his chest.

“I’m not telling you that you can’t go.” His voice low and annoyed. “That’s not what I meant.”

“I don’t want to argue before I leave Ani.” You sighed, feeling him recoil after you said ‘leave’.

“Then we won’t argue.” He huffed. “Look at me.” Anakin said, grabbing your chin as you turned away. “You will call me when you get there. You will call me before bed. You will respond to me when I text you. Understood?”

“I’m sorry Anakin I shouldn’t have-“

“Do you understand me?” He asked again, shaking your chin lightly.

“Yes.” You nodded, looking down at your hands in your lap and feeling a sense of guilt.

“Good girl.” He grunted, “Here.” He pulled you back down to his chest, rubbing your back and cradling your head, rocking you in a slow side to side motion.

“I’m not mad.” He whispered into your hair, his cheek pressed against the crown of your head. “I’m worried. I just worry about you sweetheart, I’m sorry if I sounded harsh.”

“N-no.” You shook your head. “No you were right Ani. I’m the one who should be sorry.”

“Always such a good girl.” His voice cracking as his pressed his lips firmly to the top of your head. “Don’t worry bout it baby, I’m not upset with you.”

——————————————————————————

Anakin slammed the trunk of your car shut and pushed down for good measure, turning around and dusting off his hands, he leaned back on your car. Giving you a smile he pulled you in for a hug, wrapping you in his arms tightly.

“You be careful pretty girl.” He mumbled against your forehead before nuzzling into your neck.

“I will, I’ll call as soon as I get there I promise.” You said, nodding your head to solidify your words. “I’ll text and let you know when I’ve picked up Luke.”

“Alright sweetheart.” He smiled, “I hope you have a really good time. I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you too Ani.” You looked away, knowing what was coming next. Anakin cupped your cheek to make you meet his gaze.

“I love you.” His pupils dilated into big black saucers as he stared into your own. Those pretty eyes he adored so much, the eyes that told him what you wouldn’t say out loud.

You put your arms up around his neck, and tip toed to capture his lips in a soft, lax lipped kiss. One meant to be short and sweet, though with Anakin it’s almost impossible to achieve such a thing. He dominated your mouth in a heated kiss, his tongue curling to brush over yours while he hummed in satisfaction.

You slid one hand down his chest to pull back before you both got carried away in the parking lot of your apartment building. Anakin chased your lips with his, earning a giggle from you and plastering a smirk on his face.

“One more princess.” He mumbled, leaning forward to kiss your jaw. “Please? Gotta make you miss me.”

“I’m already gonna miss you.” You laughed, “don’t make it even worse!”

“I need it to be worse.” He grinned. “A whole weekend without you? I need you wet when you walk in the door.”

“Why’s that?” You asked, your cheeks heating up.

“Well it’d be real rude of me not to get my girl wet before I make sweet love to her wouldn’t it?” He spoke against your neck, squeezing your ass hard.

“Mhm. It would.”

“I’m impatient, I want you just as needy as me when you get home.” He nipped says your neck, pressing his bulge against your hip, making you gasp.

“Ani that’s not fair.” You pushed his head away, trying to squirm out of his grip as he peppered your flesh with his lips.

“Mm. Don’t talk to me about what’s fair.” He grumbled. “Why don’t you just let me have a taste huh, princess?”

“I’m gonna be late!” You squealed as he picked you up and sat you down on the trunk of your car, grinding himself against your clothed cunt.

“You think I give a shit?” He asked, his hands sliding under your shirt and lightly exploring your abdomen, his tongue running along your collarbone.

“Anakin wait there’s-“

Before you could finish speaking a horn blared loudly as a car drove by slowly in the parking lot, the driver scowling with their hands thrown up. Anakin jumped and whipped around quickly to flip the driver a double bird.

“Ani!” You smacked at his shoulder but couldn’t help laughing when he turned around with a goofy grin on his face.

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customizedstore · 1 year

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awakenedevildays · 4 months

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「bleachers and interruptions」 Art Donaldson x F!reader

You can find the other parts here!

━━━•❃°•°❀°•°❃•━━━

"For how long are you planning to stare at her, Donaldson?" Tashi approaches Art while he is busy looking at you in the stands, a book in your hand as you wait "for Tashi" to finish her training.

"w-what?" he detaches his eyes from you and your friend wants to laugh at the deer-caught-in-headlights look on his face, a clean tennis shirt in his hands waiting to be worn.

Tashi stands in front of him, the smirk on her face growing wider by the second, her hands on her hips "Donaldson, I can smell your desperation from miles away" he avoids her gaze and turns around to take off his shirt and put it in his tennis bag along his racket, but Tashi stands in front of him again "she told me about what happened at the beach" she adds and smirks, Art stops in his tracks at that 'fuck, she knows' he takes advantage of slipping on his unstained t-shirt to hide his red cheeks from your best friend.

"Shouldn't you be worrying about you and Patrick, Tash?" his eyes look down to fix his shirt that looks so ruffled to him right now, "don't worry about me and Patrick, but I have to worry about you two idiots for obvious reasons" Art looks at her confused and waits for her to explain.

Tashi moves her hand up to pat his shoulder, her smirk fading away and giving way to a small smile.

"She's a wonderful person you know? She deserves all the love in the world and I know you've got plenty to give... so don't keep her on the hook for too long" she takes her bag.

"What do you mean?" He frowns, keeping you on the hook? he tought you had changed your mind, considering you didn't approach him not even once after the night at the beach.

Tashi takes one glance at you, and then back to the blond in front of her.

"She's waiting for you to make a move, Art. She's really shy and not really good at these kind of things..." Tashi's gaze flickers at you again... "If she wasn't interested you think she would have come to watch you almost every training day?".

He wants to laugh at that, 'she didn't look shy at the beach' he thinks but doesn't say it out loud "she comes here for me? I thought she's here to see you!" he exclaims.

Tashi can't stop the smile forming on her lips at his outburst, the disbelief in his voice clear as day.

"You can't be that naive, can you?" Tashi teases, her tone lighthearted now, having gone from teasing to trying to comfort him. "Sure, some days she might come here for me, but it's mostly for you, I can assure you, I'm just an added bonus" Tashi concludes and Art feels so stupid, he should've at least tried to talk to you.

"oh..."

Tashi sees his expression change slightly, realization beginning to dawn on him, so she rests a reassuring hand on his shoulder, smiling at him knowingly "don't beat yourself up too much about it, Art. It's never too late to fix your mistake. Believe me, she's really into you... but Art, there are few people I care about more than I care about tennis, and Y/N is one of them, if you hurt her in any way-" Tashi pushes her index finger into his chest, her grin growing devious once again, "-I'll castrate you, then you definitely won't be able to charm her anymore with only your stupid blond curls, understood?" "yes m'am." he answers immediately.

Tashi laughs, finding his quick response both amusing and endearing, her hand moving to ruffle his blond hair. "That's more like it, Donaldson. Keep her safe and you won't have too worry about keeping your body intact. I'm sure you're more than capable of that"

Tashi goes to the changing rooms and Art turns around towards you again, only to see you already looking at him and he smiles widely, now that he knows you didn't change your mind about him, and that's surprising considering the story he told you, he feels like he can actually talk to you without blushing like the teenager he still is.

You blush slightly as he looks at you, a shy smile tugging at the corner of your lips, your heart skips a beat when he flashes that winning smile of his. How he was able to be both endearing and incredibly handsome at the same time was beyond you, but the sight of his bright blue eyes and the way his blonde hair was swept to the side from the light wind was enough to make your breath hitch.

His hand goes up in greeting and you wave back, book now closed and he sign for you to stay there as he walks out of the tennis camp, his steps fast almost in a run and you laugh 'he is so cute' you think. A few minutes later he is next to you on the bleachers.

As he approaches, you can't help but look carefully at his face, a bead of sweat running down his temple form the training he just finished, you curse internally as you feel yourself growing a bit hotter when his arm flexes to let his tennis bag fall on the ground next to him.

Art sits down next to you, taking a moment to catch his breath before turning to you, a cheeky grin on his face.

"hey"

"hi..."

You both giggle for realizing how awkward this moment is.

Art runs his hand through his hair, trying to tame the damp strands and make himself look at least a little bit presentable. "Sorry for this" he pauses for a moment, a smirk coming to his lips, "although I think you kinda like it" you laugh 'fuck, he noticed'.

"Oh shut up, I didn't come here for you" you lie, your cheeks slightly red in fear of being caught "oh, really? a little bird told me otherwise..." he suggests and you would really like the ground to open and swallow you, you bite your lips "I'm going to kill her" you mumble under your breath and Art laughs as he sits down next to you, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

He gazes intently at you, a slight smirk on his lips, "please don't, I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for her" you frown at his words and seeing your confused expression he keeps going.

"I thought you weren't interested in me anymore, after that night" his smile is sheepish, "the next day, when you and Tashi came to watch the final between me and Patrick you didn't talk to me at all and... I don't know, I felt like I fucked up" his hand goes through his hair, a bit embarrassed to reveal his insecurities to you so soon and you want to slap yourself "Art... no you got it all wrong".

Art blinks in confusion for a moment, his expression changing into a mixture of surprise and relief "so you weren't avoiding me?" he asks, turning his head to peer closely into your eyes, searching for any sign to confirm his words.

"No! well, yes... but it's not cause I wasn't interested in you, the total opposite actually, I'm really bad at these things I didn't know what to do or say" you admit and play around with the cover of the book still on your lap.

Art couldn't help but laugh a little bit at your confession, "If it's any consolation, I think you're doing just fine right now."

He pauses for a moment, reaching out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear, his blue eyes shining with warmth.

"You could've just told me then, you know?" and he could have done that too.

"I know... I'm sorry" you whine hiding your face in your hands and he rests his left hand on the back of your chair, his body facing you while he waits for you to look at him again "don't be, I could have tried harder too" he comforts you and you look at him again, a sweet smile on his face.

You couldn't help but smile back at him, feeling the tension start to dissipate between you "guess we both messed up then" you laugh, shaking your head in disbelief at the realization of just how much time you wasted because of your mutual shyness.

"But we stil have time to solve this, if you want to, of course" you're nodding even before he can finish the sentence.

Art can't contain his excitement as he sees you enthusiastically nodding your head. He lifts his hand and rests his palm on your cheek, his thumb gently caressing the soft skin "I take that as a yes, then?" he asks, a playful smile on his lips, the thumb on your cheek now tracing the outline of your lips.

"mh-mh" you say unconsciously your eyes locked in his.

Art continues tracing his thumb across your lips, his touch light and almost teasing, feeling your gaze on him, he lifts his eyes to look into yours, a cheeky smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"You look so cute when you're all blushing and flustered" he whispers, leaning a bit closer to your face.

"You talk like you're not in the same position as I am" Art laughs softly, his breath mingling with yours, he leans in closer, the smile on his lips widening as he sees you start to fidget slightly.

"Not like it's a bad thing though, right?" he whispers, his hand moving from your cheek to gently grasp your chin, tilting your head up slightly.

"absolutely not" you whisper and just when your lips are about to touch a voice interrupts the moment "Hey! the camps are closing you have to get out" the coach calls out with a small smirk and Art turns around to look at him embarrassed, ears and cheeks red "sorry coach! we're leaving".

The coach gives a knowing chuckle before heading out again, leaving you and Art to recover from the interruption.

You can't help but feel a twinge of frustration at the coach's interruption, ok, that was embarrassing you put your book back into your bag before sliding it on your shoulder.

Art lets out a small sigh before reluctantly getting up from the bench helping you too by grabbing your hand "sorry about that, the coach has the worst timing" he wants to strangle him, really.

"Don't worry, he is right" you say and he starts to guide you towards the stairs to get out.

Art feels his muscles relax as soon as the cool night breeze hits his skin, he's still hot and sweaty from the training, he glances at you "that was a good session, wasn't it? even with the interruption" he jokes as he looks around, noticing the sun slowly setting behind the trees, lighting the sky in a beautiful shade of pink and orange.

"you did good, I really like to watch you ad Tashi play" you ignore his real intentions and decide to talk about the training itself, you really like to tease him.

Art can't help but let out a small laugh at your response "so that is the only reason why you come to see our trainings? To watch me play?" he quips, his tone light and teasing as he nudges you slightly with his shoulder.

"I already told you Donaldson, I come to see Tashi play, not for you" you taunt again and Art shakes his head in false disbelief, his tone still playful and light "right, how could I forget. Just for Tashi, of course".

He playfully rolls his eyes, his shoulder slightly touching yours as you walk next to him.

"I'm sorry to tell you this, but you can't compete with her" and Art stops on his track a fake shocked expression on his face and you tug on his hand still connected to yours to walk through the campus and towards the dorms.

Art puts a hand over his heart and lets out a mock gasp. "How could you" he says before starting to follow you again, a cheeky smile on his lips as he glances in your direction.

As you both make your way towards the dorms, Art can't help but feel contentment at the sight of your hands connected together, swinging naturally alongside you while you walk. You two stay in comfortable silence until you are in front of your dorm room and your hand detaches from his to grab your key, Art stands behind you, hands in his shorts pockets as he waits for you to turn back to him.

You unlock the door, feeling a flutter of anticipation as you turn to face him again. Art is still standing close, his eyes fixed on you with a warm smile on his handsome features, he takes a step closer, now leaning against the wall next to your door.

The soft light from the hallway casts a gentle glow on him, his blond hair slightly disheveled and he looks so incredibly handsome that you find your breath hitching in your throat

'what should I do now?' you ask yourself as you smile at him, but before you could open your mouth to speak, he does first "not that I don't like to meet you like this, but what would you think about a date? with me, of course" he mentally facepalms himself, 'was it really necessary to add that?' Art feels a faint blush color his cheeks as you laugh at his awkward addition.

He rubs the back of his neck, still smiling sheepishly "sorry, I just wanted to be clear about it, didn't want you to think I was planning a date between you and Tashi" he jokes as he lets out a small laugh of his own, the embarrassment fading away as he sees that you don't seem to mind his blunder.

"But yes, I would love to take you on a date" he says with a more confident tone, his eyes shimmering with excitement at the thought.

"I would love to" Art is filled with contentment as he sees your excitement. He runs his hand through his hair a small smile forms on his lips as he gazes at you, his blue eyes shining with happiness.

"How about tomorrow night? There's this nice restaurant near that I've been wanting to try" he suggests, his voice filled with nerves but anticipation as well.

"Tomorrow is great" you step closer when you see Art bending towards you "good, I'll pick you up tomorrow night at seven" you nod.

As you confirm the time for your date, he can't help but smile wider, the excitement coursing through his veins, he gazes into your eyes for a moment, savoring the anticipation building between you.

"I can't wait" he whispers, his voice filled with excitement and a hint of nerves, leaning closer and placing a soft kiss on your forehead "I'll see you tomorrow" "goodnight, Art".

As you watch Art, his handsome features bathed in the soft light of the hallway, he smiles back at you, his eyes filled with warmth and affection. "Goodnight" he says softly, a small chuckle escaping his lips as he sees you close the door slower than necessary, as if you don't want the moment to end just yet.

"Sweet dreams" he whispers after you close the door, shoulders lighter now that he finally has a real chance with you and the smile on his face doesn't leave until he is asleep in his bed.

━━━•❃°•°❀°•°❃•━━━

Do not copy or repost.

#art donaldson x reader #art donaldson x you #art donaldson imagine #art donaldson fluff #art donaldson #challengers fic #challengers

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transvampireboyfriend · 1 year

Text

"Can I kiss you?" Steve asks, eyes glued to the side of Eddie's face.

Eddie is sitting on his couch and Steve is hanging out across from him, lounging on Wayne's recliner.

He gets to use it whenever Wayne's at work, with his explicit permission and now priority, since Eddie was jealous enough to start a mock argument and Wayne took Steve's side just to tease his nephew.

So now Eddie has to give that place up whenever Steve's over. Which, he almost always is, these days.

They're watching some horror movie Steve's not paying attention to because Eddie keeps laughing delightedly and the sound is starting to feel like coming home for Steve.

Not to mention, Eddie's wearing a crop-top again today, and the hair on his stomach renders Steve absolutely useless and unable to pay attention to anything else around them.

Not that his attention is too far from Eddie most days, at most times.

Eddie was saying the movie's killer was an idiot for getting the girl before he wasted her asshole boyfriend and Steve laughed at that, and suddenly, noticing how content he was here made him brave enough to ask for more.

"What?" Eddie asks in response, his eyes wide as he turns to look at Steve

"I asked if I can kiss you" Steve repeats, not one to back down, not when he's caught Eddie staring at him all starry-eyed before, not when Eddie goes out of his way all the time to make Steve's days so much better.

Eddie blinks "No, I heard you, I just- I just meant-" he splutters "um, I'm not really sure what I meant"

Steve watches the red spread across Eddie's cheek and smiles.

"So. Can I?" Steve presses

"I mean-" Eddie says, out of breath "yeah. Yeah, you sure can." he says.

Steve feels butterflies flutter in his chest. He gets up from Wayne's chair and goes to sit beside Eddie on the couch.

Eddie watches him like a deer in headlights, all the way through.

When he sits, Steve presses a kiss against Eddie's cheek. The warmth of his blush feels like early morning sunshine on Steve's lips.

"Oh," Eddie murmurs, almost sounding disappointed,

"No, I meant on your lips," Steve confirms, "but you look a little stunned"

That startles a soft laugh from Eddie.

"I guess I wasn't prepared to-"

"You don't have to do anything, I can take care of it" Steve interrupts jokingly, making Eddie laugh again, louder this time, joyous, the kind Steve keeps hoping for and never gets tired of.

"Smartass," Eddie accuses, softly pushing Steve's face away with his hand,

Steve laughs, enjoying the contact. Once their laughter dies down he says, honestly,

"You just have to want it too"

Eddie moves his hand to cradle Steve's face and bring him closer again, "Of course I want it." he says, his eyes trailing down Steve's face and focusing on his lips "I want it so much. Can we just stop talking about it and can you just-?"

Before Eddie can finish asking, Steve nods, says "Okay," and leans in to join their lips.

Eddie's lips are soft and he melts against Steve, his hands finding Steve's waist and resting there, sending a comforting warmth spreading up Steve's sides.

Steve buries his hands in Eddie's hair like he's wanted to do for months now, drawing him impossibly closer and holding him there with as much care as he can muster when they draw apart.

He can't resist going back in to gently kiss Eddie once, twice. Three, four times.

Eddie giggles, moves to lock Steve inside his hold, his arms crossing behind Steve's back and drawing him into his lap.

Steve goes easily, with a smile on his face and his heart hammering in his chest.

"I love this t-shirt" Steve confesses, running his hands down the soft material, until he gets to the cut off point, just on Eddie's ribs, and traces his fingers on bare skin.

Eddie presses a loud kiss to the joint of Steve's jaw,

" 've you been ogling me, Harrington?" Eddie teases him. Steve giggles, giddy with their closeness and how easy this is.

"Maybe," Steve says, finally getting to touch that happy trail, softly running his fingers over it. He watches as he does it too, feeling hypnotized.

He doesn't know how much time passes before he looks up again and finds Eddie looking at him like that again, like Steve hung the moon or something.

"You're beautiful" Eddie tells him, sounding out of breath.

Steve gasps dramatically, "Have you been ogling me, Munson?" he asks in his best gossipy tone,

It startles a loud laugh out of Eddie, one that shows his dimples, crinkles his eyes and throws his head back. Steve can't wipe the grin off his face, watching him.

"Oh!" Eddie gasps between laughs "ALL the time," he answers "just. 24/7. nonstop"

Steve giggles again. He adores this boy.

He cradles Eddie's face and traces the wrinkles around his eyes with his thumbs. Presses them to Eddie's dimples, traces the smile on his lips. Such a pretty smile, Steve tells him so.

Eddie draws up to place a kiss to the side of Steve's nose, right where Steve knows he has one of two marks from wearing his reading glasses earlier.

It's weird, surprising and oddly sweet, so much sweeter because Steve adores that Eddie surprises him all the time.

Steve chases after Eddie to kiss him again, trails his hands down Eddie's face and neck, one hand gently toying with Eddie's necklace and the other placed on top of the soft material of his t-shirt.

Eddie gives him so many kisses, long kisses and short ones, big and small ones, desperate and unhurried ones, so many sweet ones.

Steve gets lost in it, smiles against them and categorizes them as best he can, sighs against them and as the movie finishes unwatched and Eddie trails his fingers under Steve's shirt, Steve promises himself he'll collect as many kisses from Eddie Munson as he possibly can.

#steddie #steddie headcanon #steve x eddie #have this <3 #i SWEAR im working on the lake fic but i needed to get this out there #cause i just want them to kiss kiss kiss and I don't wanna rush em into it in that other fic lol #.#also as always this might be #ooc #I'll update the lake fic some time this upcoming week okay? okay. love u 🫶🏽#stranger things

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babyjakes · 10 months

Text

〈 disclaimer: this blog posts content not suitable for individuals under the age of 18. minors are strictly prohibited from viewing, sharing, or interacting with this blog. for more information on this blog's commitment to protecting minors, read our full statement here. 〉

event | kinkmas 2023

prompt | sex shop

pairing | sex shop owner!andy barber x innocent!reader

warnings | age gap (reader sees andy as a total dilf.) reader is very innocent and also so scared to be there (understandably.) soft!andy, comforting vibes, he talks her through everything. humiliation kink is strong in this one. no real smut, just suggestive themes (sex shop, toys, talks of solo and guided masturbation.)

word count | 987

an | this little story is dedicated to andy's #1 girl, @worksby-d 🥺 dest i super hope you enjoy our favorite dilf here!! i tried to make him the big warm teddy bear we know and love, with a little hint of naughtiness shining through at the end hehe <3 happy holidays to you friend!!

imagine going to a sex shop for the very first time, aalllll by yourself, and meeting a very handsome dilf who helps you pick out your very first big girl toy 😏

parking as far away as possible (it’s at the end of a little strip mall in a tiny little town you’ve never been to before, you wanted to make sure you wouldn’t bump into anyone you knew!) spending like 10 minutes just sitting in your car hyping yourself up, you’re so nervous but you’ve wanted to do this for so long 🥺

eventually you build up your courage and make your way up the parking lot, to the front door of the place. a little silvery bell rings as you enter. you’re surprised at how clean and neat the place is. you weren’t sure what to expect, but this is better than you had been hoping. it’s not too big, a single large room with a counter in the middle. at first glance, you're alone, no other customers or employees in sight

the store has different sections with hanging signs directing you where to go. you can feel heat rising in your cheeks as you pass the racks of lingerie and intimates. just as you make it over to the toys for her section, you hear something from across the little shop. looking over, you see someone has entered through a doorway in the back. a man, but you don’t get too long of a look. your eyes quickly drop to the ground as you feel your embarrassment worsening

please don’t come over here. please don’t come over here. please don’t-

your silent prayers are ignored as footsteps approach. you take a step back from the wall of products, forcing yourself to look up at the stranger. your jaw almost drops at the sight of him, oh god, you’re thinking to yourself, why is he hot 😭

there andy stands in all of his glory, the epitome of dilfy deliciousness with his worn navy t-shirt and scruffy beard. scratching his head a bit awkwardly, he greets you, “hey, sorry. didn’t meant to startle you. can i help you find anything?”

your heart’s pounding in your throat as you look around stupidly before your eyes return to the absolute unit of a man before you. you blink like a deer in the headlights. oh my god. he works here, you’re a little slow to put things together

andy sees your surprise, letting out a gentle chuckle. “i’m the owner,” he explains. “you okay, honey? you look like you’ve seen a ghost”

a part of you knows this is an extremely sketchy situation. you’re alone in a sex shop with a dude probably twice your age (who apparently owns the place), out in a town you can’t remember the name of, with nothing to defend yourself except your two bare hands (which are now shaking)

but there’s something about the man before you that you just find so… warm? disarming? (…attractive? 😳) the gentle smile on his face, the way he softens his voice when he senses your nervousness...

you’re a little ball of conflicting feelings, half nerves and half head-over-heels for this unknown man. again, you blink, unable to find your voice to respond

“you’re alright, just take it easy,” he tries to help you relax. “this your first time in a place like this?” all you can manage is a nod. he gives you an understanding smile, “that’s perfectly fine. i’m here to help. can you tell me what you’re looking for, sweetheart?”

your eyes glance quickly back at the wall of toys in front of you before returning to him. he must see the increasing humiliation on your face. “u-um…” you’re finally able to stutter, “i-i don’t… i’m not… i guess i'm…”

he’s so patient and attentive it’s only making the butterflies in your tummy worse 😭 “not sure where to start?” he finishes for you. when you nod, he hums thoughtfully, “that’s okay, honey. do you have anything already that you like? is this for you to use on your own?"

you grit your teeth, nodding through the waves of embarrassment. “d-don’t have anything, sir. looking for something to start out with”

“i see,” he nods, looking over the selection on the wall before the two of you. “a bullet is a great beginner toy. simple, quiet, different levels of intensity to fit your needs. do you like clitoral stimulation?”

you have to fight yourself to keep from rubbing your thighs together right then and there 😩 something about the way he’s talking you through everything is sooo 🥲🥲 a feeling of dread hits as you realize you’re already getting wet

you force out a nod. he looks at a few options before picking out a small, discreet box. offering it to you, he explains, “this one’s my favorite. it’s nice and smooth, hard to hurt yourself with. rechargeable, medical-grade silicon. six levels of intensity. and the pink matches your nails,” he says sweetly, nodding at the shiny polish on the tips of your fingers

you clumsily accept the box, looking it over briefly. “there are instructions on the inside. the internet can be helpful too,” he suggests. the burning in your tummy worsens as he sees right through you, sniffing your complete innocence and inexperience with ease

“o-okay. this looks good. thank you,” you agree

“of course,” he nods with a sheepish smile. “once you get comfortable with that, we can work you up to something more sophisticated” you never implied that you’d be returning to him, but now that he’s said it, you know you couldn’t refuse. “and if you have any trouble, you can always come see me. i got a room in the back, we can take some time and find what works for you”

i might have to write that follow-up visit someday this is making me 🫠🫠

#eun's writing #kinkmas 2023 #andy barber #andy barber smut #andy barber fanfiction #andy barber headcanon #andy barber drabble #andy barber blurb #andy barber imagine #andy barber x you #andy barber x reader #andy barber x y/n #defending jacob #defending jacob fanfiction #chris evans #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans smut

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tikosblogg · 2 months

Text

Night In

Summary: You and your best friend Noah have a criminal minds marathon night, but he seems to be having a hard time focusing.

Warning: smut. Pure filth. Dom!Noah, fingering. Swearing.

A/N: best friend Noah has me in a fucking choke hold. SOMEBODY SEDATE ME!!!🤪 it’s literally 2AM and this scenario popped into my head. I had to get it out before I went to sleep, because I definitely would have forgotten it by the time I woke up. Please enjoy. Let me know what you think 😉❤️

The sound of the water cascading down the tiled walls enveloped the bathroom like a warm hug, steam rising to blur the edges of the world outside the small sanctuary. I sighed contentedly, enjoying the solitude after a hectic day of work. The rhythm of the water was soothing, and I closed my eyes, allowing my mind to drift.

“Hey, Noah!” I called out, leaning my head back into the cascading water. “Can you come in here for a sec?” I heard his footsteps approach, the familiar creak of the bathroom door creaking open, punctuating the hush of the steam-filled room. “What’s up?” he asked, his voice smooth as it always was.

“Are you down for a Criminal Minds marathon tonight?” I asked, grinning to myself. It had quickly become a ritual of ours, binging on crime dramas and rolling our eyes at the absurdities of the plotlines while eating popcorn and drinking a few. “Yeah I’m down,” his voice had a slight edge to it, like he was only half-listening. I peeked through the steamed up glass, briefly catching a glimpse of him leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, looking especially relaxed in his faded gray t-shirt.

“Great! I can’t wait to see The way you squirm at the creepy parts. It’s priceless,” I teased, letting out a laugh. Noah chuckled, but there was something else behind that laugh—a lingering silence that felt heavy in the air. I glanced over, curiosity piqued, and noticed he was staring, his gaze fixed on the glass shower walls where steam mingled with droplets of water.

“Hey, you okay?” I asked, playfully splashing water in his direction. He blinked, suddenly like a deer caught in headlights, the blush creeping up to his cheeks evident even from where I stood. “ yeah, just… can we talk when you get out? I’m literally getting hard watching you shower right now.” he admitted, bluntly. Scratching his head, his eyes darting away, though they lingered a heartbeat longer than necessary.

The realization of what he’d said hung between us, thick and charged. My heart raced, a cocktail of embarrassment and exhilaration flooding through me. “Oh,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper, the steam turning us both a little breathless.

“Sorry, it’s kind of hard not to,” he laughed. “You know, the fog and you look a little too good.” He smirked.

“Thanks?” I said, unsure of how to respond, a nervous laugh escaping me. He turned away, but not before I caught the evidence of his arousal pressing against his jeans. The tension shifted, electrifying the air around us, and I couldn't help but feel a spark of excitement there too, blurring the lines we’d always kept between us.

“Okay, I’ll be quick,” I assured him, suddenly hyper-aware of my own body and the droplets that clung to my skin. It felt like we had crossed an invisible threshold, yet neither of us was ready to acknowledge it just yet.

“Take your time,” he said teasingly, as he turned to walk out, pausing at the door. “But unless you want to be the one who has to explain why I’m walking around with a boner, I’d suggest you hurry.”

As the door clicked shut, I couldn’t help but laugh, a blend of nerves and something else bubbling beneath the surface. After rinsing away the day's fatigue, I stepped out, the warmth of steam swirling around me as I wrapped a towel snugly around myself. I glanced around, ensuring I was alone, a smile creeping onto my face at the thought of having the house to myself with Noah.

I rummaged through the pile of clean clothes thrown haphazardly on the counter and pulled out one of Noah's oversized t-shirts. It fell delightfully to my mid-thigh, the fabric soft and comforting against my damp skin. As I slid on a pair of underwear, I took a moment to admire my reflection in the mirror, feeling a sense of warmth at how casually sexy the ensemble was.

When I emerged from the bathroom, a wave of confidence washed over me. I found Noah lounging on the couch, the glow of the television illuminating his features as he flipped through the streaming options, searching for our show. His eyes flickered to me, and for a brief second, he froze, his brows raised in surprise before a smirk broke across his face.

“Nice shirt,” he teased, his gaze lingering on me, undeniably captivated.

I smirked back, walking over to where he sat. I could feel the weight of his attention on me as I settled down beside him, nestling into the cushions of the couch. The familiar opening credits of Criminal Minds began to play, and I grabbed the remote, easing into the comfort of the moment.

Noah’s laugh was warm, drowning out the eerie music of the show, and my heart soared as he pulled me closer, wrapping an arm around me. As the episode unfolded, I couldn’t shake the sensation of being completely at ease, my worries melting away like snow under the spring sun.

An hour passed, and I felt a subtle shift in the atmosphere as I found myself feeling sleepy. I shifted slightly, laying my head on Noah’s lap. His fingers instinctively began to run through my hair, a gentle and rhythmic massage that made me sigh contentedly.

The show continued in the background, but my focus blurred with every gentle stroke of his hand. It was surreal how strangely intimate we were being. We’ve always been pretty affectionate with each other, but this felt different. His touch sent a tingle down my spine, every movement igniting a sense of want that hung between us, unspoken yet palpable.

Noah looked down at me, his expression softening. “You know, you look really cute in my shirt,” he murmured, a hint of mischief dancing in his voice.

I smiled, meeting his gaze. “Maybe I should wear it more then,” I teased, running my fingers along the hem of the fabric as if weighing the option.

His laughter rumbled through his chest, and I could see the way his eyes sparkled. “Good. It looks better on you anyways.”

I chuckled softly, shifting to get more comfortable, feeling the warmth radiating from him. The room was dimly lit, the soft glow of the television casting playful shadows across the walls. The warmth of Noah's body provided comfort as I lay on the couch, my head resting on his lap while we both immersed ourselves in the latest episode of our favorite show. The world outside felt miles away, and for this moment, everything else faded into the background.

As his fingers tangled gently in my hair, an intimate motion that sent pleasant shivers down my spine. I closed my eyes, relishing the way his fingers moved. His fingers suddenly began tracing a path from my hair down my side. The sensation was feather-light, almost teasing, until they reached my hip. I held my breath as his fingers played with the edge of my underwear, a trail of heat left in their wake.

My heart raced at his touch. I couldn't help but subtly squeeze my thighs together, a simple reaction, but one that betrayed the flutter in my stomach. I felt the tension between us crackle like static electricity in the air.

"Y/n" his voice a soft whisper, breaking the spell for a moment. My name rolled off his tongue like honey, sweet and addictive. I rolled onto my back, gazing up at him, my head nestled comfortably against his thighs, practically blinded by the sheer intensity of his gaze.

He stole a glance at my bare thighs, a fleeting moment that made me feel exposed yet thrillingly alive. "What's wrong?" he asked, his brow slightly furrowing as if he was clueless at what he was doing.

I looked away, heat pooling in my cheeks blushing, perhaps, in both embarrassment and excitement. How could he be so nonchalant about this? His hand found its way up my stomach, slowly inching beneath my shirt, and I stifled a gasp, the softness of his touch causing the world around us to blur.

"Nothing," I murmured, though my voice was barely a whisper, betraying the whirlwind of emotions brewing inside me.

"Come on," he coaxed, his fingertips dancing just below the hem of my shirt. "What is it?"

A soft whine slipped from my lips without my permission, the weight of his teasing hanging heavily in the air between us. "You’re teasing me," I whimpered, frustration mingled with desire.

He chuckled softly, the sound vibrating in the quiet room, both comforting and maddening. "I’m not teasing...." The playful glint in his eye, combined with the authoritative way he pressed his finger over the front of my underwear, sent sparks through my core.

“What if I like it?” I blurted, the honesty spilling out before I could reel it back in.

His expression shifted, surprise giving way to something deeper as he leaned down closer, the air between us thick with unspoken words, and for the first time, I sensed that this moment was filled with endless possibilities .

With his finger still teasing me, he smirked, his warm breath ghosting over my face.“Then I won’t stop.”

Everything around us faded into silence, the television now just a distant hum.

His hand slid under my head, lifting it up slightly, as he leaned down capturing my lips into a heated kiss and it felt as if time slowed. The evening sunset filtered through the curtains, casting a soft orange glow over the living room. I was nestled comfortably on the couch, my head resting gently on Noah's lap. The hum of the world outside felt distant, as if time had slowed just for us. I could hear the steady beat of his heart, echoing the warmth that enveloped me.

His lips were warm and inviting, enveloping mine as if they were made for each other. I surrendered completely, allowing his tongue to glide against mine. It was an intoxicating rhythm that drew me deeper into the moment. I could barely catch my breath as his fingers swept under the hem of my panties, teasingly slow, until they found their way to my core.

I gasped against his mouth, breathless and desperate. My thighs instinctively fell open, making room for his hand, craving more. I whimpered his name, a plea wrapped in desire.

“What is it baby?” he murmured against my lips, his voice low and husky, igniting a spark of anticipation within me.

The teasing question sent my heart racing. I could sense the care behind his touch, but the intensity of the moment was almost overwhelming. In that instant, I wanted to drown in him, to abandon all reservations. I pulled back slightly, meeting his gaze. He looked at me, a mixture of curiosity and longing in his eyes.

“I just... I want you,” I confessed, my voice barely above a whisper. It felt liberating to admit it, to articulate the pounding desire that coursed through my veins.

He smiled, a teasing glint in his eyes, and his fingers continued their gentle exploration, igniting a fire that smoldered just beneath the surface. “You have me,” he assured me, his voice rich with promise.

With newfound confidence, I leaned into him, pressing my lips back to his, craving the connection that was building between us. His fingers continued their teasing, each touch sending ripples of pleasure spiraling through me, coaxing out soft gasps that mingled with our kisses.

His tongue licked into my mouth, tasting me. I knew we were stepping over an invisible threshold, reaching for something deeper, but I was ready for it. As his fingers stroked through my soaked folds, he finally sank two of them into me. He pumped his fingers slowly in and out, as I softly ground my hips against them.

His eyes left my face, focusing on his fingers now coated in my arousal, slowly disappearing over and over into me. His other hand left the back of my head, pulling my shirt up above my breasts letting them free. My nipples instantly hardened as the cool air hit them. Noah’s eyes raked up my body, until they landed on my heaving chest.

His big tattooed hand, groped my tits squeezing them , and rolling my nipples between his fingers. I groaned, slowly losing my mind. “You’re so fucking beautiful baby….your pussy is so fucking wet.” As soon as those words left his mouth, his fingers sped up. He crooked them up, hitting that spongy spot, as more pleasure bursts through me.

I gasped and whined, as his palm hit my sensitive clit over and over. “Noah please.” I begged, sounding breathless. “Please what baby? What do you need?” He asked, his voice soft but mocking. “I- I need to cum.” I stammered, as my end was nearing. His bottom lip disappeared behind his teeth, as his bit hard before speaking.

“Then cum y/n, cum on my fingers.” He groaned, trying so hard not to lose control. Without another word, I moaned out my hips stuttering against his fingers, as they fucked me through my orgasm. He removed his fingers, and pulled me upright, his eyes meeting mine with such an intensity that sent shivers down my spine.

“Come here,” he murmured, his voice a low growl that resonated deep within my throbbing core. I complied, eager yet shy, straddling his hips as I felt the heat radiating from his body. My face instinctively buried into the crook of his neck. The familiar scent of him—a mix of musk and something distinctly Noah—wrapped around me like a warm blanket, grounding and intoxicating at once.

His large hands gripped my hips firmly, guiding my movements as I instinctively began to grind against him. I could feel his hard dick pressing against me, igniting a deep fire within. He was huge. I whined softly, the sound muffled as I nuzzled deeper into his skin, desperate for more of this moment, more of him.

“Noah…” I breathed, feeling both exhilarated and vulnerable. He pulled my head back gently, his large hand wrapping around my throat in a possessive grip that both thrilled and terrified me. His eyes bore into mine, dark with desire and something deeper I couldn't quite place.

“Fucking look at me,” he said, his voice almost a growl, and full of command. His hips softly bucked up against mine, the material of his sweat shorts causing a delicious friction against my sensitive core. I met his gaze, my heart racing, captivated by the raw intensity of the moment.

And then, without warning, he closed the distance, capturing my lips in another heated kiss. It was a collision of want and urgency, igniting every nerve ending in my body.

His hips thrust upward again, drawing me closer, forcing my core against his in a way that sent waves of pleasure coursing through me. I moaned into his mouth, lost in the rhythmic grind of our bodies, the world outside completely forgotten. All that existed was him, me, and this intoxicating connection that burned brightly between us.

He pulled away, grabbing the hem of my shirt, and pulling it off swiftly. His eyes landed on my tits. His face dropped to my chest, teasing both of my nipples with his lips. My hands flew to the back of his head, gripping his short hair tightly.

He pulled back, wasting no time releasing his hard dick from his shorts with a soft sigh of relief. I almost drooled at the sight. He was definitely huge, and so so beautiful. The tip was bright red, already leaking. He must’ve seen the slight hesitation in my eyes, as his hand cupped my cheek, bringing my eyes up to his.

“You’re gonna take it right baby? And you’re gonna ride me, until I cum in that pretty little pussy right?” He groaned, his gazing burning into mine. The butterflies in my stomach were going wild with this new dominant side coming out of him. I nodded my head quickly, practically begging for it.

He shook his head at my lack of words. His hand now cupping my jaw, pulled me into him closer. “Say it.” He growled. Not moving until I spoke. I whined, my hips grinding harder against him. “Yes sir.” He smirked at my reply, pecking my lips softly. “Good fucking girl.”

He gripped my hips, pulling me up to hover over his dick. I gasped, as soon as the tip entered my core. It already felt amazing. He slowly pulled my hips down, further and further until he was completely bottomed out inside of me. “That’s it baby, just like that.” He moaned, pausing to let me adjust.

Before I knew it, his hips thrusted up, making me see stars. “Ohhh fuck Noah.” I whimpered, gripping his shoulders tight. He thrusted up again, his hips going at a steady fast pace as I bounced on his lap. “Fuck baby, you feel so good.” He moaned breathlessly.

He grabbed my hands, pulling them down, and forcing them back and crossing them behind me, as he held them together with one hand, he guided my hips with the other. My chest fell against his, as I gasped and moaned into his neck. His thrusts were hard, and fast. Almost knocking the breath from my lungs.

The hand holding my wrists tightened, as he bit down on my shoulder. “Noah fuck, please I’m gonna cum.” I groaned, as his hips sped up even faster. “Do it baby, please. Be a good girl and cum on my cock.” He panted, into my neck. That was all it took, my pussy instantly tightening around him, as I came for a second time.

I pulled my face from his neck, attacking his lips in a feral kiss. His thrusts became sloppy, as he finally came. His grip on my wrist tightened, the pain of it not even registering as I was too lost in the pleasure. He continued thrusting slowly as he fucked himself through it. His lips never leaving mine.

After a few short moments, he released me. Bringing my wrists to his lips kissing them gently. “I’m so sorry if I was too rough.” He whispered, against my skin before finally looking into my eyes. I smiled sweetly, cupping his cheeks. “I loved every fucking second of it.” He grinned, pressing his lips to mine, in a sweet kiss. “Me too.”

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