#THIS IDEA HAS BEEN IN MY HEAD FOR OVER A YEAR

[catherinnn]

This kinda inspired by one of your enemies to lovers stories where eddie says “you wouldn’t be able to handle me” but reader instead says “oh yeah i couldn’t handle the two-centimeter-pussy-defeater bc id because i would be too busy laughing my ass off at your angry half inch.”

Sorry i have been holding that one in for quite some time 😤

Beg for it

enemies to lovers - one bed trope - eddie munson x fem!reader

warnings: SMUT +18, piv, oral ( f & m), choking, degradation, unprotected sex (don't do this, this is fiction), porn with plot, fluffy at the end.

a/n: thank you requesting babe, hope you love it!

5.7k words

“Game night at my place, the whole group will be there” Steve announces after greeting you. You went to visit him and Robin since you were already near the place. Also, maybe you could find a movie to watch tonight.

“Ugh, really? They all said yes already?” you ask.

“If you’re expecting me to say that Munson hasn’t, then I have bad news” he confirms.

“Fuck”

“You’re not even trying to be friends at this point” he complains.

“It’s impossible with him being so mean all the time” you tried to defend yourself but Robin was quick to refute your statement.

“You sure are mean to him as well, don’t act so innocent”

“Well, he started it! I didn’t even know him and he started with the jokes and asshole comments” you weren’t lying.

You were new in town, and new at the summer job your dad had found for you. He wanted you to already have some experience at working so you could make a better curriculum later. There was were you met Nancy and instantly became good friends. So much so that she had introduced you to her friend group she has had for years already. Steve, Nance, Jonathan, Robin and Eddie. The former four had been sweethearts to you since you first met them, easily becoming good friends as well. The problem was with the latter. The night Nancy had introduced you to everyone, he started being a little distant and cold towards you. You tried not to feel offended since he could just be shy or introverted, but then he started throwing snide comments and sarcastic mocking your way. You were not going to sit there and take that, so you equally threw cutting remarks at him.

That’s how the current war with him started. And that’s why your friends keep insisting with this forced proximity, so we could all be a happy family.

But it was useless, you and Eddie do agree on that.

The game night arrived that Friday. You were at the Harrington household with several board games awaiting on the table. Battleship, Clue, Guess Who, Monopoly, Scrabble, you name it.

“We wanted to make different groups and play all of these, then see which team is the best” Robin explains. “Steve and me will be team one” she says as she writes that in the whiteboard. They really went all out, since we could all be pretty competitive.

“Group two!” Jonathan exclaims quickly grabbing Nancy’s hand.

“Wait… no, definitely not” You start complaining after realizing that would mean you’re stuck with Eddie.

 “No way! I’m not teaming up with her, she’ll make us lose at everything” he complains as well.

“I will? I think the actual loser here it’s you”

“Oh, am I now-?” The metal-head starts responding when Steve steps in, cutting him off.

“Okay! Stop yelling, we’re not even playing yet! The teams have been chosen, try and be faster next time”

“We’ll start with Guess Who” Robin announces.

As the game progressed, the bickering continued.

"Does your person have brown hair?" Eddie asks Nancy and Jonathan, who nod.

You reach over to flip down the characters with blond or red hair "See, this is why we should’ve picked someone with a hat, it's less obvious"

Eddie rolled his eyes "Oh, please. Like your guess was any better. We’re losing here!” Eddie complains.

"Only if you keep making terrible guesses" you shoot back.

"Does your person have a hat?" you ask the other team.

"No" Jess replied.

"Still think the hat was a good idea?" Eddie raised an eyebrow at you.

"It was strategic" you huff, flipping down the characters with hats.

After playing most of the board games you had, you were tied with the second group, Steve and Robin had already lost.

“Last but not least, to decide the winner of this evening, I present… battleship” Robin announces once more.

"You sure you can keep up with this game? It requires more than just a pretty face" Eddie asks you.

"Don’t worry, I have enough brains to make up for your lack of them" you respond.

“Quit it, start playing” Steve orders.

"Let's just get this over with" you roll your eyes.

They set up the Battleship boards, each team carefully arranging their ships. Eddie and you hunched over the board, whispering fiercely.

"Put the battleship here" he insist, pointing to the top left corner.

"No, it’s too obvious. Let’s hide it in the middle"

"Fine, but when they hit it right away don’t blame me" he groans.

As the game progressed, your bickering intensified.

"B6" Jonathan called out.

You glance at the board and softly nod your head "Hit"

Eddie leans closer, his voice a teasing whisper, "I told you the corner was better"

"Just focus"

When it was your turn, Eddie called out "G4"

Nancy checks their board, "Miss"

You smirk "Looks like your guess wasn’t so great either"

Eddie rolls his eyes "Just wait"

A few rounds later, it was your turn again.

"E5" Eddie calls out.

"Miss" Nancy announces.

"I told you they wouldn’t put it there" you huff.

"Like you’ve done any better"

"How about C3?" you roll your eyes.

"Fine, C3" Eddie sighs.

"Hit" Jonathan says between his teeth.

"See? I told you" you smirk.

"Don’t get cocky, princess"

The tension built as the game neared its end, each team with only one ship left.

"Last shot, let's go with G3" Eddie says

You nod.

"You sunk our battleship" Jonathan confirms after a long sigh.

“YES!”

“COME ONN” both you and Eddie shout in excitement and before even thinking about it you hug tightly.

Robin and Steve watch the scene with wide eyes and smirks on their faces.

And the second your bodies touch each other you realize what you’re actually doing. The hug only lasts few seconds before you both back away awkwardly.

“See? You actually do make a pretty good team” Robin comments.

“Only because I took the last shot” Eddie says.

“Oh please, if it were up to you we’d still be guessing corners” you reply.

"And if it were up to you, we'd be stuck in the middle forever”

Your friends roll their eyes as the bickering continued. And as you act indifferent, you try not think about how you had to stand on the tip of your toes to wrap your arms around his neck, or how soft his hair had felt touching your skin.

His frizzy and chaotic hair. But so curly and soft.

--

Couple of weeks after that night had passed, you hung out with the guys almost every weekend. You favorite nights were the ones Eddie was busy and couldn’t make it. Like tonight.

“Pass the salt, please” Nancy asks Robin. You all went out to have dinner together. Not all actually, Jonathan was too busy as well, him you did miss.

“It’s like we’re having a girl’s night!” you say excitedly and both girls laugh as well.

“No, you’re not about to count me in as a girl” He complains.

“Oh please, you have better hair than me!” Robin comments and he rolls his eyes.

“I’m just teasing, jeez! Someone has their panties in a twist!” you joke.

“Are you on your period or something?” Nancy joins in sarcastically.

“Alright, not even funny” Steve interrupts. “Let's focus. I think we should keep planning the trip, even though we’re not all here tonight”

“Don’t even mention it. I miss Jonathan so much, he’s been so busy lately. I think he really needs a break” Nancy complains and Robin agrees with her.

“I know, it’s really noticeable when Eddie’s not here either”

“Oh yeah, he’s the one I miss. His irritating voice and loud comments. His annoying essence it’s what’s missing here!” you joke but they don’t find it funny.

“We’ve been through this, you’re gonna have to learn to like each other”

“Sure sure, so… the trip?” you change the topic acting foolish.

“Yeah, I liked the hiking option. We always go to the lake every summer, we should change it up” Nancy votes. You’ve never went to any lake with them since this is the first year you’re joining them. But they had told some stories about this hidden lake they usually go to in summer.

“I think so too, plus we should do something different since we have a new integrant” Steve comments smiling at you. Robin and you also agree to go with that option.

The guys make sure of telling the rest everything you have agreed on that night. You’ve settled on where to go hiking and the cabin that would be waiting for you at night.

A few weeks later you're all set to go.

The trip to get there was...

Steve and Jonathan took turns driving. "You must be a really shitty driver if no one here trusts you behind the wheel" you notice and tell Eddie.

"I'm not a bad driver, princess. Maybe we could go for a drive sometime and you could judge for yourself! We'll call it a date" Eddie teases you the way he knows will shut you up, it always worked. As soon as he started flirting with you, it was like you got shy all of the sudden. Replying with some nonsense that would make Eddie laugh harder because he knew he had won.

"I'd rather get eaten by a shark" you respond ignoring the nervousness that ran through your body.

"Alright, we still have a few hours ahead of us, and I'm not gonna make them with you two bickering the whole way there. So calm down" Steve —or actually, mom Steve— told you off.

Once you got to the cabin, you parked the car, settled everything down, ate something and got ready for today's hiking exercise.

Eddie was never a big fan of sports, so he knew that after an hour or so of hiking —no matter how slow they were walking or how much water he was drinking— he would just start to stay a little behind. Not a lot, but definitely the last on the row.

Also, he started to get bored. Eddie was chatting with Jonathan, but he started to take pictures of every little plant or flower he saw, and the higher you got, the more pictures of the view he wanted to take.

So Eddie started to walk in silence, taking notice of other little things, like the fact that you and Steve look pretty close and pretty giggly with each other since you started hiking. But not only that, obviously, it's not like he's jealous or anything. For him to be jealous he would have to like you in the first place, and there was no way Eddie wants you.

You're the obvious person to like; everyone in Hawkins is already smitten with you. Every guy has a crush on you because you're undeniably beautiful. He knew from the first moment he saw you that you'd never go for a guy like him. So, to keep himself from showing any sign that he wanted you, he did the opposite —he started to hate you.

So he is definitely not jealous. He was only noticing that like he noticed the colourful rocks that he walked by, or the clouds in the sky, or the way those shorts hug your body so nicely.

But he keeps hearing your laughter every ten seconds. Was Steve really being that funny, or you were acting all giggly for him? Did you like Steve? It certainly seems like you do.

You, however, were having so much fun. In the middle of a funny story Steve was telling you about some guy who tried to flirt with Robin at work and the look on her face not knowing how to tell him she didn’t like him —or well, any men for that matter.

The forest path was rugged, but you welcomed the challenge at first, feeling the cool morning air on your skin. However, after a while, your legs began to protest, your breath came in shorter gasps. It was hard to keep up with Steve. Swimmer and football player Steve. So you had to slow down a little, now walking alongside Eddie.

“What’s the matter, princess? Can’t keep up?” he teases with a mocking tone.

“You literally got behind sooner than me” you answer, shaking your head. “If anyone’s slow here, it’s you”

“But it looks like we're both walking together now, so who's really winning?” Eddie chuckles, unfazed by your sharp reply as his eyes twinkle with amusement.

You decide to ignore him. How foolish of you to think that he would accept that silence.

“So what’s the deal between you and Steve? You looked pretty cozy back there. You’re not very subtle, you know”

“There’s no deal with Steve, we were just talking” you roll your eyes, irritation flaring up.

"Right, just talking" he says, his tone dripping with scepticism. "You’re so obvious, it's almost painful to watch"

“Why don’t you stop jumping to conclusions and mind your own business” 

“Ohh, is the princess mad at me now? I’m so scared!” he grins, clearly pleased with himself.

“You’re impossible” you say almost to yourself.

You kept walking for a few more hours, taking occasional breaks to catch your breath and sip some water. The trail seemed endless, but the beauty of the forest made it worth the effort.

As you trudged along, you noticed the sky darkening. Grey clouds, rolling in with alarming speed. The wind picked up, rustling the leaves more aggressively.

A man in uniform hurrying down the trail called you out. "Hey, you guys need to find shelter! A big storm is coming in fast. There's no way you'll make it back down in time"

Panic start to appear in all of your eyes.

“Wait? Seriously?” Nancy asks.

“Yes! There’s a motel that’s a few minutes away, to your left” the guy informs you. “I don’t know how much room they have left, cause I’ve been sending some people there already. But you should go now”

Finally after quickening your pace, you spot the outline of a motel nestled among the trees. You hurry towards it. As you approach, you see the motel was old but resistant.

You reach the door and push it open, stumbling inside just as the storm unleashed its full fury. Inside, it was dim and musty, but at least it was dry.

“Hello, uh, we need room for six, please” Nancy is the first one to get to the register and talk to the old woman who was reading a newspaper as if she hadn’t heard you coming in.

“$70 the night” she answers without even looking up at you.

“Uhh… okay, we’ll take it” Nancy says and as you all reach for you wallets, the woman gives you three keys.

“There’s only three rooms left, two with queen beds and one with two separate single beds” she speaks again, as slowly as she can apparently.

“SEPARATE BED” Robin shouts fast.

“ME TOO” Steve is quickly to join her on calling dibs for that room. Not wanting to share a bed.

“Wait! No!” you complain. “Why would you get it just cause you screamed?”

“We called dibs, sorry sweetie” Robin explains.

“But that’s not fair, we should have discussed it!” Eddie joins in.

“Too late” Steve says handing the money to the woman and taking the key of their room.

“Come on guys, maybe they have a couch” Jonathan tries to make you feel better as he also pays and picks a key to their room.

“Are you actually making us share a bed?!” you ask them offended.

“Maybe it’ll help you become friends!” Robin tells you.

After paying and grabbing that stupid key, you all go to your rooms. As you walk in you notice that, in fact, there is no couch.

“Fuck” Eddie complains once again. “I’ll take the floor, let’s just find some blankets that I can sleep on”

And you turn that room upside down trying to find some. But the only blanket in the room is the –only– one on the bed.

“There’s nothing here!” you sit on the bed admitting defeat. “We’re both gonna have to sleep on the bed. I’m gonna freeze without a blanket and you can’t sleep on the bare floor, you’d freeze too”

“If you wanted to sleep with me, you could’ve just said so” Eddie jokes.

“Not now, Munson! Really not in the mood!”

After each getting ready for bed, you start building a wall of pillows in the middle. Separating his part of the bed from yours.

“I bet you wouldn’t make Steve have a wall of pillows” he mumbles, but you’re able to hear him nonetheless.

“Did you not listen when I said not now?!”

“See, that’s the problem with you. You think you can just walk in here acting like you own the fucking place. Newsflash, princess, not everyone is going to fall at your feet following your little orders!” Eddie gets mad for real this time, but so are you.

“I’m so sorry for trying to make this less uncomfortable! Actually, if you want I’ll even cuddle you while we sleep!”

“Shut up” Eddie rolls his eyes.

“No really, we should even make out before sleeping while we’re at it! Maybe that’ll prove to you that I don’t fucking like Steve”

“Yeah, you wish” Eddie comments.

“Actually, I think you wish. Giving that you’re always trying to flirt with me when we argue and giving how jealous you seem to be about Steve” you notice.

“I’m not fucking jealous. And you’re the one suggesting to fucking make out!”

“See, I think you do want to. You’re just too much of a pussy to even admit it” you whisper close to his face.

“Oh my God, princess!” Eddie starts laughing arrogantly. “You wouldn’t even be able to handle me”

“Oh yeah, you’re right! I could not handle your two centimetres because I would be too busy laughing my ass off at your angry half inch” you respond at his face.

But he doesn’t say anything back. He just looks at you. His jaw clenching, eyes darkening, breath heaving.

Before you can react, he closes the distance in one swift, aggressive movement. Gripping your arms tightly, he kissed you fiercely and angrily, his lips bruising against yours, as if trying to channel all the pent-up emotions into that kiss.

To say that you're shocked would be an understatement. But you did kiss him back. How could you not? With all the ardor and sentiment that he was putting into that kiss?

That fucking kiss.

After he felt your lips moving along with his in a dance, he let all the anger go. The kiss became passionate and intense instead of angry. Like you were finally letting go. Stopped overthinking and finally giving in.

You didn't need to talk. You didn't want to. Instead, you put one hand on his haw and the other on his hair, feeling it in between your fingers, bringing him even closer.

He sighs, holding a grunt as he feels you play with his hair. His hands move lower to your hips, feeling the upper part of your body in the process.

A fight for dominance is held up between you two. He bites your lip harshly, and you let out a little gasp that allows him to win. He's playing dirty. You're not surprised.

He starts to push you down slowly, so you're lying on the bed with him on top of you.

Your hands travel lower as well as you feel his back. You wonder if he has any tattoos there as well.

He dares to leave your lips alone as he lowers his kisses to your jaw and then your neck. He kisses and bites and licks all over your neck. You can bet that he is leaving marks as purple as a grape.

It turns you both on even more.

Eddie feels like he's flying. He's even touching the clouds. Marking you all up is only an image that haunts him in his fantasies. Like when he can't sleep, or is in the shower, or after fighting with you all evening and you're looking so beautiful and you're being such a brat. That's when he imagines leaving you all bruised out. But he's actually doing it right now, and he's going feral.

You start to feel like you're too dressed. His hands go under your shirt, and he starts to pull it up. You pull your arms up as well so he can take it off. His kisses keep traveling lower on your body. Your chest, your shoulders, the top of your breasts. He stops there. Making out with one of your nipples over the lace of your bra while pinching the other. You start moaning, your hips move searching friction on your core, and he lowers his hips so you can start dry humping him.

You feel his smirk against your sensitive skin as well as his hard on against your centre. Mocking your desperation. You're not surprised.

He moves up, meeting face to face once again. "So desperate for me, aren't you princess?" he whispers so closely to you face you can feel his lips moving and his evil smile too.

He watches you breath hard and your legs trying to close searching for that friction in between once more.

"Ask me nicely and I'll take care of you" he proposes and you roll your eyes.

You can't. You won't.

"Beg for it, princess" he tries again. "Let me hear you"

You shake your head. You're playing difficult, but Eddie likes a challenge.

"No? You're not gonna beg for me? Alright princess, you know what I'm gonna do?" he pauses to think. "I'm gonna make you cum so fast on my tongue you'll be embarrassed, and then you'll know how much of a desperate slut you can be for me"

You want to laugh and tell him off, but you are so intrigued by his confidence at the same time. You settle for a defiant look thrown at him, he catches it and smirks again. Something tells you you'll be seeing that smirk quite a lot tonight.

He unhooks your bra and throws it somewhere in the room, he squeezes your tits and caresses your nipples making a mental note to keep playing with them later. His hands travel down to your pants which are the next item being thrown away inside the room.

He takes a second to admire the view of you only on those white panties and he feels his cock jump. He proceeds to take your underwear off too, but this item is put inside his back pocket.

He puts your legs over his shoulders and lowers to be closer to your pussy. He bites his lip admiring how fucking pretty and perfect it looks. He wastes no more time and dives in.

He licks it and kisses it and sucks on it drunk on your taste. He fucking makes out with your clit and has you meowing and arching back like a damn cat.

His hands grab your thighs so hard he's probably leaving marks there too. He sighs and hums and laughs against your pussy hearing your pretty moans.

He looks up at you as you look down at him and you both feel like you could just cum at the sight alone. Your cheeks blushed, eyes watery, hair a mess, lips swollen and little moans are still coming out of them. He looks up at you while still sucking on your clit so fucking good. His eyes are covered by his bangs so you reach to move them to the side. His puppy eyes look straight at you, his hair is also a mess, and his hands are gripping you with so much force his skin as well as yours becomes whiter. And his rings feel cold and addictive against you.

You try to fight your orgasm but looking at him makes it impossible. It hits all throughout your body so good that you cry out his name as you pull on his hair.

As you catch your breath, he sits up and washes all your wetness off his face with the back of his hand, all that with a big smirk on so proud of himself.

"Still doubting me?"

You grunt, annoyed, and bring him closer. You pull his shirt over his head and take a second to admire his bare chest and arms covered in tattoos. You unbutton and unzip his pants. He's just watching you act so desperate for him to undress, enjoying every second of it like the cocky motherfucker he can be.

"Need help?" he whispers on your ear, and you nod with a pout. He stands up and takes his pants of slowly.

"These too?" he asks, signalling his boxers. You nod as you feel even hotter paying attention to the big tent he has on them.

He puts them down too, standing up proudly as you look at his big cock. "Half inch you said?" he teases you, and you look up at him as if telling him to shut the fuck up.

You sit up facing his dick. You grab it gently as you keep looking at it. How is it so... pretty? How the fuck does Eddie manages to be pretty everywhere. Even what you thought could not be pretty. He manages to make it look beautiful.

A mischievous thought crosses your mind. And you start leaving some kisses on the tip. Even a lick here and there.

He gasps unexpectedly. You put the tip in your mouth, moving your tongue around it. He lets out a little moan. You look up at him, he's already looking at you. And you proceed to slowly put all of it in your mouth while maintaining eye contact. His tip touches your throat, and you have to fight a gag. You still have a full fist grabbing the rest that didn't fit your mouth. He moans again at your little show. You close your eyes and start moving your head up and down. Eddie moans louder this time, and hands stop your movements.

"As much as I enjoy this, princess, and I really fucking am" he lets you know. "I want to cum once I'm inside of your perfect little pussy, can I?"

You take him out of your mouth with a 'pop' at the end and look at him defiantly once again. "Beg for it" you challenge him feeling proud of yourself.

He laughs. "Are you seriously telling me to beg for it while you're still practically on your knees for me?"

You won't let him win this one, so you lay back again resting on your elbows. "Beg for it"

He takes a big breath in ogling over all of your body on display for him and only him. He'll let you win this one because his dick is throbbing at the sight before him.

His hands travel up your legs and your hips to your waist. "Please, princess" he says once his face is closer to yours.

"Please, let me fuck you so good" he starts humping his dick against your pussy which makes you both gasp.

"Please, please, please" he kisses your cheek to sugar-coat you.

"Eddieee" you move your pelvis up and down against him. "Do it, put it in"

And he wastes no time to do so. Pushing his tip inside and you both gasp. He bites his lip and thrusts to enter you completely.

"Oh, fuck" your head is thrown back and you lay back down. He feels so big and so fucking good in you.

"Mhh, fuck princess" he lowers his body to be chest to chest with you. "You feel so good baby, so tight around me"

You have to bite your tongue to stop you from moaning his name, you can't keep inflating his ego.

"Don't get all quiet now. You're always talking and the one time I wanna hear you..." he teases you.

"Earn it" you manage to get out. It's ironic how your lips are almost bleeding from how hard you're biting on them to stop you from moaning as hard as you want to, but you still tell him to fuck you better.

Eddie knows what you're doing, but he likes playing with you too. So he accepts the challenge.

He gets up on his knees against the bed and takes your legs to pull you closer to him. You instantly wrap them around his hips. He wraps a hand around your throat and he looks like he's about to say something, but instead, he enters you again. A moan escapes from your mouth instantly, and you see his big smirk back.

He starts a hard and fast pace with his thrusts as you hear his sighs against your ear. You can't help the whines and moans that escape you now. Your hands go to his back scratching him, and pulling at his hair, but it only makes him moan harder.

He lowers his head to your breasts once again and keeps kissing them as he fucks you. You arch back again, because you can feel him everywhere. And he feels so so good.

He feels you clench around his dick and he thinks he could just cum right now. So he starts playing with your clit with his fingers.

"Eddiee... 'm so closee" you whine pulling him somehow even closer.

"Yeah? You are?" you nod desperately. "Beg for it" he whispers and smirks right after saying it.

You roll your eyes but it doesn't take much to convince you this time.

"Please, Eddie," he was about to tell you that you can do better, but beat him to it. "Please baby, you feel so good inside of me, so big. Eddie, please"

Eddie has to stop himself from cuming -which he almost does. "Cum for me, baby"

And you do. Your orgasm hits even harder than the first one. You gasp and whine without even thinking about it.

Few seconds after that, Eddie can't take it anymore. He feels you clench even harder while you cum and it becomes too much. So he lets go too while moaning your name against your skin.

You take a few seconds to catch your breaths when you feel Eddie pull out —and after admiring how his cum drips out of your pussy— he gets up, puts on his boxers and goes to the bathroom, only to come back with a wet towel to clean you up. To say he surprised you again was an understatement. Who would have thought he would be so careful?

After you go to the bathroom as well —with wobbly legs Eddie smirks about— and change into some comfy clothes, you both lay down. No wall pillow this time. And are quick to fall asleep after all the exercise you did today.

The next morning wasn’t so sweet. Loud knocking on your bedroom’s door accompanied a loud Robin telling you to get up already.  

Waking up all curled up with him was bound to happen. But if someone would have told you yesterday morning that today you would be waking up with Eddie Munson spooning you, you would have laughed at their face.

But here you are, and to be honest, it had been a while since you slept so peacefully.

You feel him groaning against the skin of your shoulder, holding you tighter.

You slowly opened your eyes to accustom to the light.

“Did you end up killing each other last night?! Answer me!” Robin shouts again from the other side of the door.

“Certainly feels like it” Eddie murmurs and laughs at his own joke.

“We’re awake! Calm down!” you let her know.

“We have to leave so then we can breakfast, so hurry up!” she lets you know.

You get up and start tiding up. Eddie is slower, he sits on the bed barely opening one eye to look at you and smiles. “Good morning, princess”

You look at him and a little smirk escapes from your lips. “Hey” you greet him shyly.

You both start changing to get down and tidy everything down. After you both brush your teeth, you go to pick up your backpack but he stops you to pull you in close to him.

“Good morning” he says again with his face close to yours while he pulls a strand of your hair behind your ear. Then he proceeds to kiss you, sweetly this time. Which warms your heart. You kiss him back playing with his hair once again.

“Hi, Munson” you say sweetly against his lips.

“You look beautiful in the morning” he admits but before you can even react, the knocking on your door is back.

“Okay! Okay! We’re coming!” Eddie stops them. “Jesus”

After getting down, you were waiting for them to explain where you would be having breakfast but as soon as they see you they start looking at you funny.

“What?” Eddie asks being as confused as you but they all start laughing.

“What is going on?” you ask again.

“Are we just gonna pretend like nothing happened?” Jonathan asks now.

“Yeah, were you gonna act like you still hate each other today?” Steve teases.

And you understand all the laughter. You and Eddie look at each other surprised and apparently this is also very funny because they start laughing again.

“Oh fuuuck” Jonathan starts mocking the way Eddie sounded last night also acting like moaning your name.

“Oh Eddie, so close!” Steve joins him acting like you.

Your face is as red as a tomato right now and you feel like you could just die, it would be better than taking whatever this is. You hide your face in Eddie’s shoulder after he just rolls his eyes fighting another smirk.

He laughs at you, put stills hugs you.

“You wanted us to like each other…” He defends you two.

“Yeah, apparently you took that very literal” Robin teases after catching her breath.

[blowjob-horseguy]

Steve opened his eyes and above him was a pale man with long curly hair. It fell like buoyant curtains of ringlets from either side of his head, obscuring their surroundings. The man frowned down at him with a fierceness that made Steve think for a second they had met in a tavern one night and Steve had done something to slight him.

Steve opened his mouth to speak and felt a sharp edge be pushed harder onto his throat. Steve's vocal cords froze. Whatever he did, it was really bad. Steve runs through a quick memory catalogue of all the men he's slighted recently and how, so he could know what to start apologizing profusely for.

Did he sleep with his woman? Did he sleep with his man? Did he win too much money from him? Did he lose too much money to him? None of those seemed right.

He considered briefly that he perhaps slept with the man himself but quickly dismissed the idea. If he had bedded anyone with hair like that and this passionate a disposition, he would not need to search for the memory.

He looked closer at his features. Hair so long it could easily be a maidens, and so dark it was almost blue. Thick, furrowed brows and lips thin and white, pressed tight together, sandwiched by dimpled cheeks. His skin was pale enough to look sickly and almost green in hue. Steve definitely would have remembered this face had he seen it before.

"You are awake" said the man.

His voice dragged like wood over coarse sand: like he wasn't used to speaking outloud. Steve got a glimpse of his teeth, Sharp and thin, unlike any other human teeth he had ever seen.

A chill ran down Steve's spine as he realized why.

This is no man; this is a Merrow!

Steve's mother had told him tales of these creatures.

When Steve answered the call to the sea, his mother warned him; beware of the sea maidens they may seem beautiful on the shore, but when they lure you to their home you see their true colors. Green skin and scaley behinds. Teeth sharp enough to tear through flesh, and claws the same.

The men are said to be even uglier, with the faces of hogs and catfish, and they drag sailors down to their dens to enslave them for eternity.

Steve has always been cautious about these monsters; avoiding the bright red cap that was the telltale sign of a merrow on the shore. The others on the ship have always ridiculed him for it, and now here he is in one of theirs's clutches.

and it's not... unattractive. Strangely.

"Speak" The merrow demanded

"Please let me go" Steve spoke, his voice breaking embarrassingly.

"Go where" the merrows eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"Back to my ship."

"You will attack me."

"No, I won't I promise. I'm a peaceful man, very peaceful. Couldn't hurt a fly, me. Wouldn't even know where to start."

The jagged thing at Steve's neck pressed into his skin a little harder, Steve tried to lift his chin as far as it could go to get away, but he felt a small sting as the device broke his skin.

"All men lie."

"I'm not lying, I would never lie" Steve lied.

While far from the swashbuckling type, he has never shied away from a fight, especially when it comes to protecting his fellow crewmates. He's only been on the ship a few years, but he has improved his fighting form considerably from the naive nobleman's son he once was.

While he's not going to say it out loud, he probably would attack the thing, if given the opportunity.

The merrow didn't respond, just bored dark pools of black into Steve's soul. Steve silently pleaded back with his own eyes, just wanting to get out of this situation alive.

"Release me, I beg of you. I will cause you no trouble."

"I do not believe you, you will leave this place and call fleets of your men here to hunt me down." The merrow said panic evident in his voice now.

Steve's own panic subsided for a moment and he realized this creature did not seek to kill him for pleasure, but to avoid being killed itself.

Steve took a chance and lifted his hand to touch the pale arm that held the merrow aloft above him in a gesture he hoped conveyed comfort. He did so slowly, as not to startle, and gently so the merrow knew he had no intention to harm. The merrow eyed him wildly and with fear, but it allowed itself to be touched.

It's skin was cool to the touch and droplets fell from its skin as Steve wrapped his hand around its wiry forearm.

Steve tried to reach for his signature charm, the one his father swears he learned from him.

"I promise, I mean you no harm. I have no fleets of men. Half my fellows are so foolish they could not hunt down their own behinds" Steve said.

The merrow stared at him, eyes shifting about, looking him up and down for any hint of deception.

"I will not hurt or attack you, please just remove this device from my neck."

The Merrow seemed to steal it's resolve for a moment. then slowly the pressure was removed from Steve's neck. and the merrow slunk into water.

Steve sat up on the rocky shore. Without the creature's hair blocking out their surroundings, Steve saw he was in some sort of watery cave. Dark grey walls surrounded him as far as he could see, and a vast black lake stretched out in front of him. If only Steve could remember how he got here.

He looked back at the creature and saw the object that had been held to his neck was a jagged, broken shell that hadn't yet been worn smooth by the ocean. The merrow still held it nervously as it bobbed in the water at Steve's feet.

Even with half of it's body submerged, the merrow was nearly eye level with Steve. So either the water is shallow here, or the creature is of substantial size.

"Does this mean I'm free to leave?" Steve asked.

The merrow shook it's head. Black curls shaking out droplets of water with the motion.

"I cannot be sure that you won't return with weapons or more men" it said, "I searched your person while you were asleep, I took the dagger that hung around your middle, and the one on your leg."

How long had Steve been unconscious?

"Did you steal me away from my ship?" he had to ask.

The merrow looked offended at the suggestion.

"Steal you away? You intruded onto my home!" it said as it started rising out of the water. A jet black tail emerging slightly from the grey ocean.

Steve shrunk down and put his hands up in surrender.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know. I have no memory of arriving here."

The merrow was taken aback at that and shrunk down into the water again.

"You don't remember?" it asked

Steve shook his head.

"You washed up onto my shore. No man has ever seen my shore before. Your treasures wash up here when your ships crash in the sea outside, but no man has ever washed up with them before." it said, clearly at unease with the idea.

Steves heart fell. Does this mean his ship crashed? Is he the lone survivor? he doesn't think he can take the thought of being left without the friends he's made on that vessel.

"Did- did anything else wash up with me?" Steve asked.

The merrow shook its head.

"There hasn't been a wreck near here in months."

Steve felt his spirit lift. That could mean his crew mates are alive and well!

But then how did he end up here? Steve tries to remember. His head aches something fierce.

"Why does your face look like that?" The merrow asked.

Rude.

"My head hurts"

The creature cocked its head to one side.

"You creatures are strange and delicate. Have you hurt yourself?"

"Hurt myself? I only just woke up! It's more likely you hurt me, than I hurt myself!"

Steve clutched his head in one hand and gestured at the creature with the other. He feels rather helpless in this situation.

"I did not hurt you! I removed you from the water. You creatures are not supposed to be in there!" The thing pointed towards Steve with its shell, as if illustrating what 'creatures' it was talking about.

"Well then, however I got to be there is how I hurt my head" Steve explained, aggravated by this easily excitable monster he's found himself with.

The creature frowned at him for a moment and then faster than anything it dove under the water. It's tail following behind it in a lithe arc like a sea serpent.

Perhaps it is a sea serpent. A strange shrill sea serpent with very soft skin.

Almost as fast as it left, the thing burst back out of the water.

Steve flinched away from the splash.

"Hold out your hand" the merrow demanded.

Steve held both his hands closer to his body.

"Why?"

The merrow lunged forward and grabbed one of Steve's hands.

Steve yelled, startled, his feet scrambled at the stones beneath him trying to get away from the shockingly strong and clamy hand that held his arm tight, but his leather soles slipped on the wet rock and Steve stayed put.

And then something slimy and oddly coarse fell into his palm.

The merrow shoved Steve's own hand towards his face.

It was seaweed.

"Wh-"

"Eat it."

Steve's eyes shot up to meet the merrow's.

"Raw?!"

"It helps me when my head hurts. It will help you."

Steve grimaced at the yellowish-brown pile in his hand.

"Is it medicinal in some way?"

"It is food."

"Ah."

The merrow starred at him expectingly.

Steve starred right back.

"I'm not going to eat this."

"Then your head will continue to ache."

"I don't think the lack of edible gunk is the cause of my headache, I believe it to be the same thing that's causing my amnesia" Steve said shaking the offending object out of his hand, "I must have hit my head when I was washing up on your shore."

"Like I said; you are strange delicate creatures," the merrow reached out his unoccupied hand towards Steve, "come into the water."

Steve leaned as far away as he could manage.

"So you can drown me?"

The Merrow rolled his eyes. It looked remarkably human in that instance.

"So I can heal you"

He doesn't know if it's delirium or blood loss, but Steve grabbed the pale hand in front of him and slid gently into the water.

The creature wrapped one arm around his waist and pulled him closer to it. Steve felt the scales of it's tale press against his thighs through his trousers as he was held aloft in the freezing water. His feet dangled and he couldn't feel a bottom to the lake, nor to the creatures tail.

The merrow threw the shell that was in it's other hand away somewhere and grabbed a handful of the black water. It brought it's hands up, dripping the water onto Steves head. The cold shock seemed to ease his pain. Steve closed his eyes at the relief.

He felt an even pressure on the top of his head. A tingling sensation washed over him, trickling from the point of pressure down his neck and over his shoulders. It sent Steve's body shivering.

He opened his eyes and was met by two dark eyes staring back at him. The merrow was less than an inch from his face. one of it's hands was firmly planted between his shoulder blades, and the other was atop his head emitting the magical sensation.

"You had a bump on your head."

"Had?"

"I rid you of it."

Steve felt the hand trail down from the top of his head through his hair- still wet from whatever circumstances lead him here- and down his shoulder.

He does not understand why a monster would heal him of a headache, but as he is held steady in its strong arms and feels it's breath against his lips he doesn't think it wise to ask too many questions.

"Thank you." He said.

The merrow let go of him, and Steve pulled himself back up onto the shore.

He heard a wet thunk beside him and turned to see the merrow had joined him on the rock. Its body was facing Steve and it's tail was splayed out in front of it bent at the midpoint as if the thing had knees.

It's tail alone was twice the length of Steve's entire body and it tapered along its length until exploding out into 2 wide tail fins that had the jagged edges of burned parchment.

Suddenly the creature unbent it's tail, laying it across Steve's body and curling the end slightly around his waist. it was surprisingly heavy and the large scales had the texture of smooth river stones against his abdomen.

Steve looked bewildered at the creatures face, who had the same fierce and angry look as when Steve first woke up.

"So you will not run away." it explained.

"how many times do I have to tell you, I will bring no harm to you, even if I escape."

"I cannot take that chance."

"How long will you keep me here then?"

The tail wrapped halfway around Steve's waist constricted slightly, almost causing him lose his balance. The creature beside him leaned in menacingly.

"You will stay here until I can be sure you can be trusted." it said.

"And when will that be, hmm? What could possibly convince you?" Steve asked.

The creature looked down at itself for a moment, seemingly thinking of a solution.

"I- I don't know. I will. I will know it when I know it."

"Oh! You will know it when you know it. Thats fantastic." Steve spat.

"Well you have done nothing to prove your trustworthiness to me thus far" The creature spat back.

"Exactly! I have done nothing! I have not attacked you, I have not tried to escape, I have made no attempts on your life. I have been a model captive! Whereas you, foul creature that you are, have threatened my life, stolen my belongings, and tried to feed me muck from the bottom of the ocean!" Steve had snapped, pushed to far by this infernal creature and it's damp dank lair "And now I find you have no plan for my release. You know, my mother used to tell me tales about you creatures, but she neglected to mention just how stupid you are!"

The creature just looked at him, dumbstruck by his outburst.

It uncurled it's tale from around Steve's waist and moved it back into the water. It slid it's body so it was sitting beside Steve, instead of facing him.

"What is your name?" the merrow asked.

"What?" Steve replied

"What is your name?"

"Is this some kind of trick?"

"No. You say you have been a model captive; I wish to be a model captor. What is your name?" it looked at him with pleading eyes.

Steve sighed and ran a hand over his face. What has his life come to?

"Steve, my name is Steve." He said.

"And you do not eat seaweed, Steve."

"I-" Steve groaned, "I eat seaweed, of course I do, I live on a ship. I just don't eat it raw and fresh from the bottom of a pit is all."

"So how do you eat it." The creature asked.

"You let it dry and cure, you boil it over a flame. Do you know what flame is?" Steve asked.

The creature rolled its eyes again.

"Yes, I know what flame is. If I build you one will you eat?"

Steve was taken aback. The monster is worried about him eating?

"I- yes, I suppose" Steve stammered, "do you also have a pot to boil water in?"

"A bucket washed up last month, will that do?"

"Why yes that will do greatly" Steve said.

The creature quickly disappeared into the water.

Steve sat back on his hands; confused and... oddly touched by the gesture.

Despite the creature's constant suspicion, Steve hadn't even considered just swimming out of here. Mainly due to the fact that he has no idea where he is, if there is land near here, where his ship is, or even how to find the opening to this cave in such dark conditions.

He is tired and befuddled, his wet clothing is sticking to his skin uncomfortably, he is chilled by the air and sore from the hard rock, and now that he thinks about it, he is near starving. So, he truly does appreciate the Merrow's offer to build him a fire.

The merrow reappeared holding a rusty bucket aloft the water's surface. It handed the bucket to Steve, who found dry wood, flint, and a knife at the bottom of it.

Steve smiled.

"Where did you find all this stuff?" he asked

"Treasures wash up here after shipwrecks, I told you that before," The merrow said pulling itself back onto the rock, "now would you like to build the fire yourself, or shall I?"

.....

Steve started the fire, closer to the cave wall than to the edge of the water, and set the bucket, now full of water, carefully in the middle of the flames. It will take awhile before the water boils, but that just gives Steve time to lay his clothes out to dry.

He rid himself of his trousers first, the wet denim was the greatest offender to his skin, and his white linen shirt came after it. He laid them both flat in front of the fire.

He looked around, the creature was still gathering food. He's grateful, he feels oddly modest about being in the nude in front of the merrow.

Steve was crouched down warming his hands in front of the flames when he heard a telltale splash from behind him. He covered himself with his hands and whipped around to see the merrow had returned with 2 handfuls of seaweed and a small fish caught in its mouth.

It looked Steve up and down from its place in the water and then released the fish from its jaws onto the rock.

"Your clothes are gone," it pointed out.

Steve gestured with his chin to where they lay in front of the fire.

"I'm drying them."

"Ah," it said lifting itself by the elbows up onto the shore, "come take this stuff from me, I can't get over to you, it's difficult to move across land in this form."

Steve walked over to the merrow and grabbed the fish and seaweed from it.

"You say in this form; do you have another?" he asked

The merrow eyed him oddly.

"I thought your mother told you of us?" it asked.

"Well, yes, but she also told me the men of your species have the faces of hogs. As you clearly do not look like a hog, I figured she may have gotten some things wrong."

The edges of the merrows mouth twitched upward. It- it's smiling!

"I have a legged form as well. I could get my cap and join you for dinner?" It said.

So, she was right about the caps too. At least Steve hasn't been paranoid about nothing.

"Thats not necessary." Steve said, though he must admit he was curious.

Steve walked back to the fire and dumped the fish and seaweed into the water that had started to form small bubbles. They still had a while to go.

Steve turned back to the merrow, who was sitting on the rock, splayed out, scales and all, like some kind of ancient stone carving. It looked up at Steve, waiting for him to say something. Steve felt the need to cover himself again, the gaze of this creature is just so insistent, but he thought the act would just draw more attention to the area. Instead, he decided to ask something that had been nagging at him.

"Do you have a name?"

The merrow was taken aback for a moment before it answered.

"I was called Edward once."

"Once?"

"I was banished by my people to this cave, I haven't been called anything since then." it said, eyes going sad for a moment before snapping out of it.

"Edward the Banished" Steve mumbled.

"I suppose," Edward said squirming uncomfortably.

Steve hadn't expected him to hear that.

"I left my home to follow a friend onto a pirate ship that I quickly found was made up of novices who had never seen the inside of a ship before."

Edward raised his eyebrows at that.

"I see. 'can't hunt down their own behinds' indeed."

Steve breathed out a small laugh.

"I wasn't lying."

"Hmm..." the creature's mouth flattened into a thin line once more.

It doesn't believe him, not entirely.

No matter! Steve is just glad that it calmed down enough to allow him food and freedom of movement.

When the food was finished cooking Steve brought the bucket over to where Edward was sitting, or laying... where Edward was beached.

It frowned at him.

"You are sharing with me?"

"You caught it for me," Steve said taking a bit of meat from the fish.

It was saltier than he prefers it, but at least it was food. Which reminds him.

"Did I still have my water when I arrived here?" he asks.

"The bladder you had around your belt?"

Steve nodded.

"Yes, I took it along with your knives, I thought it had potential as a weapon," The merrow said, gnawing on seaweed.

"How long was I unconscious?"

The merrow frowned at his food.

"I'm not sure. The sun was just starting to set when I found you by the mouth of the cave, and it was fully dark when you awoke."

That means it could be as little as 5- 10 minutes.

"Do you need me to bring you your water?" Edward asked still gnawing.

"I would like that yes, but where is it that you go to fetch these things."

Edward looked him in the eye, squinting to see any hint of devious intentions on his face. Steve is getting tired of the scrutiny.

"I'm not going to tell you where your knives are, but I will bring you your water." the creature said slithering away into the depths once again.

Steve sat there, bare as the day he was born, and wondered what it would take to get this thing to trust him enough to let him go.

When the merrow came back with his bladder of water Steve tried not to drink it all in one gulp. It was so refreshing, and he was so thirsty, but he doesn't know how long he will have to be here, so he needs to ration.

"I have decided how you will earn my trust." Edward said out of the blue.

Steve nearly spilt his drink in his excitement. He put his water down and wiped his chin.

"What is it?" he asked.

"You will tell me more about your ship, and I will go out in search of it to see if the stories you tell are true." it said tapping its tale against the stone it sat on in no particular rhythm. it looked nervous about this plan.

"You'll find my ship?" Steve asked, amazed at his own luck.

"You will come with me so I know where you are, and I'm not giving you back your weapons, and I will keep tight hold of you, and if I find your ship and it is not the novices you said it was, I will leave you stranded on a sand bar," it said sternly.

"Okay! what do you want to know first?" Steve asked leaning forward, excited to get the process started.

"Tomorrow, you will tell me about your ship tomorrow. Now it is time to sleep" it said and then swam away.

It is a strange and confusing creature.

Still, Steve curled up on his clothes in front of the fire and eagerly laid down his head to rest. He at last sees hope of escape, and he can't wait until tomorrow.

[bbieangel]

Too Sweet (18+)

No outbreak!Joel x Fem!reader

A/N: This idea came to me while listening to Too Sweet by Hozier. It's my first time writing smut lol I hope it came out well.

Summary: You wake up at 5 am to get ready for your shift at the hospital and find Joel downstairs drinking coffee. You can't go back to sleep so he has a few ideas to make you tired.

18+ Warnings: unprotected p in v, oral fem receiving, oral male receiving, joel likes to be dominant, age gap (at least 10 years), reader is submissive, breast play, size kink. not a warning but there's aftercare, a sweet moment after the intense session they had.

Word count: 7k

Hope you like it! Enjoy <3

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

You woke up at 5 am, to start prepping for your shift. As a nurse, this wasn't out of the ordinary for you. On the contrary, it was a good day; you had managed to sleep a good 6 hours after a week of endless shifts, lots and lots of people filling the ER that had you speeding from one unit to another. One bed to another. It was exhausting, but you couldn't deny that you loved your job.

Still, you missed your boyfriend. Joel Miller. When you opened your eyes and patted beside you, the other half of the bed was empty. Taken back, you wrapped yourself on a robe and went downstairs to find him drinking coffee while reading a book.

"Joel.. what– it's five am."

You mumbled, rubbing your eyes while a yawn came out of your mouth.

He chuckled at how adorable you looked, your hair all messy and your voice still raspy from sleeping.

"Jus' wasn't tired."

He responded, and pulled you into his lap.

"But it's.. you should sleep. I don't understand your habit of always going to sleep at sunrise."

You spoke and buried your face in his neck, taking a deep inhale of his scent that sent shivers down your spine.

He wrapped his arm around your waist and kisses your cheek.

"I should ask you the same question, what are ya doin' awake?"

You looked at him confused.

"I have my shift today."

You told him, thinking it was obvious as he already knew.

"Sweetheart.. your shift is tomorrow. Today's your day off."

He mumbled and placed a strand of your hair behind your ear.

"No.. wait, today is friday, isn't it?"

"Nope, it's thursday, dear."

His confirmation made you sigh frustrated, you had mixed the days. But you were already up, and tiredness didn't seem to be settling back into you.

"Fuck.."

You whispered.

"I'm so dumb."

He chuckled and rubbed your back.

"You're not. Accidents happen. Go back to bed, darlin'."

"I.. I can't. I'm awake already, I'll be tosing around bed for like an hour before I even begin to feel tired."

You spoke, a hint of weariness behind your eyes even though you knew falling asleep again wasn't that easy for you.

"What about.. I help you relax?"

He asked into your ear, his voice a low purr that made your stomach twist with pleasure.

"And how do you plan on doing that?"

You asked, a smirk now adorning your face.

He lifted you up and carried you to the bedroom upstairs, while you laughed.

"Okay, okay. I understand."

You spoke with a smile as he laid you down in bed.

He took off your robe and threw it away, leaving you only in your underwear.

He hovered over you, one knee spreading your legs.

"You'll be exhausted after this, hun."

He whispered and started to kiss on your neck, nibbling at some point. You couldn't help but squirm under him, he knew your sensitive spots by memory now.

Your hands went up to his head and played with the soft curls there, scratching his scalp softly.

Your underwear was drenched, having just woken up you were more sensitive than you could've been at any other time in the day.

And he knew it.

His kisses trailed down your chest and he pulled out one of your breasts from your bra, groaning before wrapping his mouth against your nipple and starting to suck on it. His tongue twirling around it, while his other hand played with your other breast. Pinching your nipple softly, just enough to make your breathing go faster.

You arched your back and let out a moan, your nails now digging onto his back.

"There's my girl.. I wanna hear you, don't hold back."

He spoke, massaging both of your breasts before going lower, his mouth pressing kisses below your stomach.

You cursed under your breath and pushed his head, at which he let out a low chuckle.

"Needy, ain't ya? So impatient.."

He spoke in a husky tone and pressed his face against your sticky underwear, that showed a big stain.

He groaned and let out a soft moan, pulling your underwear until it was off of you. He threw it across the room, his hot breath sending tingles to your core.

"Joel.. please, fuck."

You whined, spreading your legs wider now.

"Shh, easy now. Who's in charge here?"

He asked in a more serious tone, looking at you. His eyes were dark, desire being evident behind them.

"Y-You are.."

You spoke, submitting to him almost instantly.

"Glad to hear."

He said and the tip of his tongue slid through your folds. You couldn't help but mumble some nonsense, your patience was running low as he took his sweet time to make you feel good.

Just as you were going to beg him, he buried his face on your cunt. His mouth wrapped around your clit and started sucking on it, his tongue going around it and twisting like his only purpose in life was to drive you insane by giving you so much pleasure.

You moaned his name, loud, which seemed to only motivate him more as he slid two fingers inside of you. So easy, as you were already drenched.

"Hands off, sweetheart. You know the rules."

He said as you started tugging at his hair. With a wine you complied, and placed your hands by your sides.

"You're being so good to me today.."

He mumbled as he pumped his fingers in and out of you, stretching you for what was next.

"Joel.. I need it now. Please."

You spoke desperately while looking into his eyes, which only seemed to darken even more as you pladed.

Without saying a word, he stepped back from you and took off his boxers, revealing his hard, throbbing cock. He was already on edge just by hearing you moan for him, and take in the taste of your core.

Hovering over you again, he spread your legs more. He placed one on his shoulder and gave you a wink.

You jumped and whimpered when the tip of his length aligned in your entrance.

"It's okay. Ya know how to take me well.."

He whispered as he started inserting himself into you, slowly, spreading you open.

Your walls tightened against him, as his long dick made its way into you.

He stroked you thigh softly, squeezing it without too much force.

"So good for me. You're so good."

He whispered and began moving slowly in and out of you, making your breath get caught up on your throat.

He pinned your hands on top of your head with one hand, while the other gripped on your hip and started going faster, circling his hips to find that sweet spot of yours.

You gasped when he found it, and he grinned at your reaction, only to start pounding into it with more force than before.

"J-Joel I ca– I can't.."

You whined, your eyes rolled to the back of your head and you bit your lower lip to try not to scream.

"No, no. What have I told ya?"

He said as he freed your lower lip from your teeth.

"But I–"

"I don't care."

He said and moved faster into you.

"I wanna hear every little sound that comes out of your pretty mouth, understood?"

He said, his dominant tone and demeanor made you get closer to the imminent orgasm.

"Y-Yes.. Sorry."

You mumbled while you rocked your hips against his, your stomach tightening and growing warmer.

He noticed the change in your breathing, your moans; it all indicated that you were close.

"C'mon baby, give it to me. Come on."

He encouraged you and his thumb started to rub against your clip, just enough to send you over the edge so you could reach that sweet release.

Your hands wrapped around him as you reached the orgasm, feeling how your walls were tightening around him, something that drove him crazy every time.

When you came down from cloud nine, you looked over at him. A few drops of sweat had formed on his forehead, his chest had freckles all over it; he looked so good helping you ride out the last seconds of your release.

"Take it out."

You demanded after catching your breath.

"N-No, sweetheart, I'm almost there, I–"

"I want it in my mouth. Now."

You spoke and his pupils dilated, nodding as he did what you said for the first time that day.

He laid down on his stomach, his chest rising up and down rapidly, showing how aroused and excited he was.

You wrapped your lips around his length, and started pumping it with your hand. Your tongue moved around his throbbing head, sucking on it until it was completely wet.

"Oh, fuck, darlin'.."

He groaned, his hands clenching onto the sheets until his knuckles turned white.

You pushed it deeper into your mouth, your lips almost touching his testicles at this point, which made him jump and let out a loud gasp.

"Sweetheart, I'm gonna– Please.."

That was all the warning he gave you before coming inside of your mouth, painting your walls. You continued sucking until the last drop of his release was out, and inside of your mouth.

You looked into his eyes as you swallowed, the salty mixture dripping from your lips.

He laid in bed exhausted, but still managed to pull you by his side. He wiped your mouth with his thumb, and cuddled you against him.

"That was.. so, so good."

He whispered, pressing a kiss on your forehead.

"You were the one trying to make me exhausted. And let me tell ya, it worked."

You chuckled as you put the blanket and the cover on top of you and him, wrapping you both in a cocoon.

He let out a small laugh and pressed his face against your neck.

"I'm always willing to make my pretty girl feel good."

He mumbled, his voice becoming raspy again. You could tell he was tired too.

You traced imaginary shapes on his chest, and scratched his scalp softly which made him let out a soft hum.

"Let's sleep, honey."

You whispered and he nodded softly. You chuckled, finding it too amusing when he was in that state of pure softness, letting his guard down so you could take care of him.

"I love you."

He mumbled, you could tell he was drifting off to sleep but still wanted to let you know you were loved by him.

"I love you too, hun."

You whispered and shifted your body until you were comfortable, letting yourself fall into slumber with him wrapping your arms around you. At that moment nothing else mattered, just you two.

[httpsserene]

Your works are literally my all time favorites 💕 since your requests are open, I was thinking of requesting something with Daniel. I personally wear braces and have always been insecure about them. Since Daniel is known for having a great smile, he notices the reader covers her smile etc. Some reassurances lead to Daniel facefucking the reader and giving her a facial to show her how much her braces turn him on . Him making her smile and taking a picture with his come all over 🙊

𝖍𝖙𝖙𝖕𝖘𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖓𝖊'𝖘 2𝕶 𝕾𝖕𝖊𝖈𝖎𝖆𝖑 | 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕯𝖆𝖓𝖎𝖊𝖑 𝕽𝖎𝖈𝖈𝖎𝖆𝖗𝖉𝖔 𝕰𝖉𝖎𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓

𝐄𝐩𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐝𝐞 𝐓𝐰𝐨: 𝐒𝐚𝐲, "𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐞𝐬𝐞!"

Summary: The day she gets her braces off will be the best day of her life. Maybe all the years she dealt with insults, underhanded compliments, and men who wouldn’t date her because of them, would be worth it when she sees her perfectly straight teeth. Of course, it sucks that she has insecurities stemming from her braces; her boyfriend, Daniel, says that they “add to her beauty.” If she believed him, she probably wouldn’t hide her mouth behind her hand when she grins or laughs. Don’t worry—Daniel has an idea of how to make that smile of hers…shine. Pairing: daniel ricciardo x fem!poc/black!reader (her skintone is described as brown and she has curly hair) Content Warning: 18+ only. mdni. explicit sexual content. insecure!reader. reader has braces. dom/sub undertones. oral sex (male receiving). face fucking. mention of humilation (very tiny). exhibitionism? illicit photos. facial. no beta we die like men. Word Count: 2.6k words.

Author's Note: writing oral sex is hard. especially for men, i don't know why. anyways, i still think i cooked a little too hard. i feel embarrassed for what y'all are about to read. happy reading xxx

prev 2k special join taglist feedback & requests table of contents next ↻

The sound of the dishwasher quietly whirring fills the kitchen, muted by the running faucet as you hand wash a stainless steel pan. The skillet cleans easily and you set it to dry in the dish rack, remembering to shut the faucet off. You shake your hands dry before opening the cabinet beneath the sink to grab the disinfectant spray. Gently, you press the cabinet door shut before spinning around and stepping softly to the microwave mounted above your stovetop. The clock on the microwave reads 4:32 PM. You scrunch your nose in displeasure—you and Daniel were just supposed to take a quick nap after the two of you had brunch, but as usual with naps, four hours passed as soon as you shut your eyes. The late afternoon sunlight had filled your bedroom and roused you from your sleep; you had drawn the blinds open that morning and forgot to shut them, thankfully, or you may have slept well into the evening. Daniel, however, remained asleep. He wasn’t bothered by the warm, hazy sunlight since his face was tucked away in the crook of your neck—and you allowed him to continue sleeping, mindfully pulling the blinds closed before tiptoeing out of the bedroom to clean your kitchen.

You know his sleep hasn’t been the most restful or restorative recently, seeing how disgruntled and groggy he is every morning before he has a sip of coffee. Off-handedly, Daniel had mentioned how he’d been struggling to readjust to timezones recently, and jetlag hadn’t been any kinder to him either. So, you decided to let him sleep a little more, hoping a longer nap might give him a little more energy for the rest of the day—and, with your newfound free time, you could finally deep clean the kitchen without any Daniel Ricciardo-sized distractions. You get halfway through wiping the interior of the microwave clean before you hear your boyfriend start to make his way out of the bedroom to find you. 

You shake your head softly as Daniel pauses at the edge of the kitchen, clearly still half-asleep as he pouts at you. He rubs at his eyes, standing there in nothing but a pair of grey sweatpants (that you only allow him to wear inside the apartment), that do very little to hide the obvious—not that you were looking, anyway. You laugh and your hand reflexively rises to cover the spread of your smile; you ignore the slight ache of your gums from freshly tightened braces and you press your lips together, schooling them into a closed-mouth smile before beckoning Daniel forward to give you a hug. He buffers for a second, brain still waking, and suddenly starts ambling towards you, pressing a brief kiss to your cheek then moving to wrap his arms around your waist and nuzzling his head into your curls, humming sweetly as he does so. You giggle into his chest, bringing your hands up to scratch along his tanned back gently, loving the feel of his warmed skin against your body.

“Had a nice nap?” You murmur into his chest.

Daniel squeezes you tighter and grumbles, “It would’ve been nicer if you didn’t leave me to clean our kitchen.”

“I wouldn’t have had to get up if you just let me clean it this morning like I was trying to do,” Daniel groans, releasing you as you start to rant, “but, for some reason, you like to interrupt me when I’m trying to be productive—like you’re doing right now.”

“I just woke up! I can’t hug you?”

“That’s not what I’m saying—I’m saying that it’s just really peculiar that this exact same behavior is what interrupted me this morning.”

Daniel pulls away and blinks at you before smirking faintly, “That is so weird.”

You narrow your eyes and purse your lips at him, “Mhm.”

Daniel grins big and wide, batting his eyelashes at you, and you can’t help but roll your eyes at him, “Don’t play cute now–that’s childish. We’ve discussed this before, Danny.”

He shrugs his shoulders and then leans down to press light kisses all across your face, “I’m sorry—can you—forgive me?”

A smile starts to spread across your lips and consequently, your hand moves to cover it–but Daniel catches it with a frown.

“Why do you always hide your smile? In every photo you take; you’re looking away from the camera, or hiding your face, or covering your smile. You never show your teeth when you smile, giggle, or laugh—and I don’t understand why,” Daniel blurts out.

You freeze. You weren’t expecting an analysis of your body language from what seems to be a random outburst, but the points Daniel used…it’s clear he’s been thinking about this for a while.

“Umm, well I just don’t like my smile,” you offer quietly, with a dismissive wave of your hand.

You try to turn around to go back to cleaning, but Daniel grabs your hand, stopping you. He gestures to the Polaroids you guys have hung up on the wall of the kitchen. The two of you bring the same Polaroid camera on every date and take a photo. The bottom of the photos are labeled with the date and what activity you guys were doing or what restaurant you guys were eating at. You’re covering your smile in some of them but, you are not showing your teeth in any of them.

“Even when I make you laugh, you never let me see your smile,” Daniel thinks out loud, his thumb rubbing across the back of your hand soothingly.

“Well, it’s not you,” you start, shifting your hand to squeeze his gently, “If that’s what you’re thinking. It’s just—well I do hate my smile.”

Daniel’s mouth drops open, but you rush to continue.

“It’s not just the smile though. What I really hate, are my braces. I mean—I disliked my gapped and crooked teeth, which people made fun of me for—and then I decided to get braces. And people continue to make fun of me for them. I don’t know, maybe being a grown woman with braces is weird but, I at least thought other adults my age weren’t immature enough to make fun of me for them,” you swallow, shakily.

“I cover my smile and hide my face because it’s easier to not let people see my braces than let them tease me for them, you know. And now, I guess, after a year and a half of having them—it’s just become second nature not to allow anybody to see them,” you finish.

 Daniel shakes his head disbelievingly, “I think you are the most attractive woman in the world, with the braces. I will hate the day you get them off because I won’t be able to choose what color your rubber bands are anymore. But; I always ask you to smile for me so I can see them, and you always do it without complaining, though?”

“Yes, Daniel,” you stress, “because you ask me to see them, and I know that you like them. Or at least, you pretend to be a good actor if you don’t.”

He scoffs, “I don’t know, I probably wouldn’t buy you ice cream after every single orthodontist appointment if I hated your braces. It would be a waste of money,” you hit his shoulder in annoyance.

“What?” Daniel exclaims, “Do you know how much richer I would be if I didn’t date you because of your braces.”

“Oh, shut the fuck up,” you retort, light-heartedly, “You’re a millionaire, get over it.”

Daniel laughs and you consciously make an effort to smile freely, the metal glint of your brackets shimmering under the afternoon Monte Carlo sunlight. He raises his hand to hold your jaw, his thumb brushing along the brown skin of your jawline then ghosting over your bottom lip, and his smile softens at the sight of yours.

“All I see is a really pretty woman, with a really pretty smile, and pretty braces. The light blue looks very pretty on you, baby.”

“Whatever you say, Danny,” you say, your tone impassive.

Daniel cocks his head, bothered, and his smile fades.

“What—you think I’m lying?”

Shifting your weight, you drop your gaze unable to meet the rising intensity in his eyes. You try to move your jaw out of his grasp but his hold tightens—firm. He doesn’t apply any more force than he needs to, it’s enough to have your eyes snapping back to meet his and stutter through an answer.

“I-I didn’t say that,” you murmur, “I meant that I personally don’t think they’re pretty.”

“Ok,” Daniel nods, “Kneel.”

“I’m sorry,” you choke out, “What?”

And then you notice his pupils are dilated, his breathing is heavy—and naturally, you glance downwards. What was previously obviously seen in his gray sweatpants is now unignorable. When you quickly glance back up towards Daniel to see if you’re on the same wavelength, he doesn’t repeat himself. You lick your lips anxiously before delicately dropping to your knees.

Daniel hums in approval and moves his left hand to tuck a stray curl behind your ear. 

“Are you going to let me show you how much I like your braces?”

You nod up at him eagerly yet your eyes focus on the bulge in your eyeline. Daniel laughs throatily, his left hand slipping to the nape of your neck, fisting in your hair to tilt your head further back. 

His right hand slowly unties the drawstring of his sweatpants, and he coos down at you, “Can you show me your pretty smile first?”

The brown skin of your cheeks flushes, and a tiny wave of embarrassment drifts down your spine but it doesn’t stop the smile from stretching across your lips. One of the bottom brackets scrapes against your inner cheek however the brief flare of pain is easily forgotten as Daniel drags his gray sweats down just enough to expose his dick. Your smile stays present as you lean forward to nuzzle along his length, pressing light kisses and teasingly flicking your tongue across his slit when you reach the head. 

Daniel hisses softly, taking the hand that isn’t tangled in the lengths of your hair to press into the curve of your dimples, “Shit—I’m going to fuck your mouth, yeah?”

Humming, you sit back, tucking your feet underneath yourself to rest on them, and you nod, dropping your mouth open to let your tongue roll out as you look up at Daniel with blurred eyes. He bites his bottom lip before grabbing his cock to gently rub it against your tongue, grunting softly at the smooth, wet friction. Eagerly, you rush forward, swallowing him down with ease—you don’t understand why he’s wasting time teasing both him and you; he’s trained the gag reflex out of you for a reason, there’s no need to babysit.

He moans out in shock, letting you get away with a few deep bobs of your head, relishing in the way he can still feel your throat fighting the intrusion. You’re too caught up in making sure your lips stay curled over your teeth ignoring the feeling of your brackets pressing hard along the inside of your mouth along with your aching gums. Still, pain only adds to the pleasure clearly, if the wetness gathering in your panties is an indicator. Then, Daniel reminds you who’s in charge. He finds enough strength to halt the bobbing of your head and uses the grip he has on your scalp to hold you down at the base of his cock. 

“Fuck,” he pants out, “I forget how much of a slut you are for something in your mouth every time we do this,” he feels you swallow around him, and moves his hand to trace around the seam of your lips, spreading the spit gathered there across your cheek, “If you want me to stop, pinch my thigh, okay?”

Your verbal assent is muffled but you nod as much as his unyielding grip allows, gently soothing your hands across his thighs to further reassure him. He releases his fist from your hair, to gently brush the curls matted against your forehead out of your face; he knows you hate the feeling of hair getting in your way when giving head. One-handed, he gathers your curls into a ponytail, holding you steady as he shallowly pulls out just enough to allow you to take a shuddering breath before thrusting forward. He feels more than he hears your delighted hum, taking it as a sign to pick up the pace. 

Daniel begins to fuck into your mouth in earnest, his cock knocking against the back of your throat repeatedly, your cheeks hollowed in such a manner that it truly feels like you're sucking him down. He’s unable to control his noises and watching you continue to hold eye contact with him as he forcefully uses your mouth is only pushing him closer to the edge quicker than he would like. He’s struggling to keep his own eyes open to look at you as euphoria overwhelms him, but damn, he’d hate to miss a single second of how pretty you look trying to not choke on his cock. Daniel stops pulling completely out of your mouth to switch to making shallow jerks of his hips, focusing on reaching as deep in your throat as he can—he wants you to taste him tomorrow, he wants you to feel the phantom weight of his cock down your throat as you go to work, he wants you to fluster when your coworkers ask if you’re feeling alright when they hear the rasp to your voice and the crackle that sounds every few words you speak. To match the change of his rhythm, you skillfully begin to swallow when he thrusts into your throat, fighting off your gag reflex as best as you can. Daniel laughs choppily at the tears that fall from your waterline and maybe that does mean that he’s a sick man, since that’s what pushes him over the edge. 

He abruptly pulls from the cage of your mouth, wrapping his hand around his dick, and orders you breathlessly, “Smile.” You comply without hesitation.

At the sight of the light blue rubber bands Daniel picked out for you to wear, he doesn’t even need to stroke himself to completion. He spills with a groan and a call of your name. His cum paints your teeth along the metal of your braces—there’s enough of it to even hide some of the color—and the last spurt hits across your nose and runs over your cheek to paint your jawline. 

He’s orgasmed so hard his legs are shaking but he manages to stumble through a few steps to grab the Polaroid camera resting on the counter.  He angles your face so it’s bathed in the late afternoon light, pausing when the sun hits perfectly to make your braces glimmer where they are not covered in his cum.

He grasps your jaw, squeezing at your cheeks making sure your fucked out face (braces, cum, and smile) is the focus of the photo, and that the ‘3’ tattoo on his pinky finger is visible as well from the viewfinder of the camera.

And right as he steadies the camera, he coos down at you, “Say, ‘Cheese!’”

(The photo is labeled “Shiny Smile.” It doesn’t join the photo wall but, it finds a home in your wallet to remind you just how pretty you are with your braces.)

2k special taglist: @saintslewis @cherry2stems @lorarri @inloveallthetime @barnestatic @my-ylenia @katekipshidze @darleneslane @mindless-rock @lovingaphroditesworld @smoothopz @vetteltea @tallrock35 @riveristhebest1 @iloveyou3000morgan @smartstupyd @spideybv28 @lh383 @hiireadstuff @namgification @gg-trini @whatamidoingwithmylife-random @multi-fandom-rando @dreamingofautopia @megatrilss1885 @nanamilkbread @userlandonorris @starfusionsworld @hangmandruigandmav @itsmiamalfoy @ineedafictionalman @everythingabby101 @valent1na-ferrari @dark-night-sky-99 @svinzlec @angelfreckless @sweatrevenge5436-blog @bokutos-babyowl @oliviah-25

© httpsserene2024

[folkwhoredoll]

by the shore - rafe cameron x fem!reader

pairing: rafe cameron x fem!reader (friends with benefits)

synopsis: being friends with rafe has its benefits

word count: 1.7k

warnings/tags: smut! (f oral, unprotected sex), few curse words

request: rafe x Reader, they are best friend that’s are on a family trip that they take every year in summer, reader is good friends with both Sarah and rafe, rafe and reader are a bit tipsy messing around and find their way to the beach and that’s were the smut happens :) hope you can do it thank you.

a/n: hi everyone! it's been a while since my last post because things got busy in nursing school but since it's summer break, i can now post again! thank you to the one who requested this <3 i hope you'll like this one. happy reading!

masterlist

➶-͙˚ ༘✶

The sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow across the beachfront estate where you and the Camerons vacationed every summer. The annual family trip was a cherished tradition, one you eagerly anticipated each year. It started long before you even entered school, a yearly event your parents initiated to celebrate their friendship with the Camerons. Naturally, you also formed a growing friendship with Sarah and Rafe.

Though, if you were honest, "friendship" didn't quite describe the bond between you and Rafe. Whether you and the Cameron heir were dating was unclear, but he acted like you were most of the time. Almost no boys dared to ask you out, not with Rafe always glaring at them from behind you. He accompanied you almost everywhere, even pretending you were his girlfriend to keep other girls away.

But your relationship with Rafe wasn't simply a friendship because of what you two did behind closed doors. It was no secret that Rafe had several experiences, his natural charisma drawing girls to him. Perhaps that's why you couldn't resist him when he told you he admired you months ago. He was your first.

Not one soul knows about it; you couldn't risk it.

The evening air was filled with laughter and clinking glasses as your families gathered on the deck, enjoying the night of their getaway. You felt a pleasant buzz from the beer you and Rafe had been sipping, the alcohol buzzing through your veins. Sarah had to excuse herself to answer a call from Topper, leaving you and Rafe alone under the twinkling fairy lights.

Rafe grinned at you, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Wanna take a walk down to the beach?" he suggested, his voice slightly blurred but full of excitement.

You smiled back and nodded eagerly, the idea of sneaking for a late-night adventure sounding perfect. "Absolutely. Let's go back before Sarah gets back and decides to drag us into some boring game."

Rafe laughed, a deep, infectious sound that made your heart flutter. The combination of alcohol and the intimate setting seemed to excite you.

The two of you stumbled down the wooden steps leading to the beach, giggling and shushing each other while your hands gripped tightly around your beer bottles. The fine sand was cool beneath your feet and the ocean waves lapping gently at the shore.

Rafe motioned for you to sit near a large rock, sitting down first to make sure that it was comfortable enough. You positioned yourself beside him, sighing contently as you took in the view before you.

"Remember when Sarah and I built a sandcastle when we were like, ten? Then you ruined it with your soccer ball." You said.

"In my defense, I didn't mean to kick it towards your castle." Rafe chuckled at the memory. "And I got the worst punishment from you because you refused to speak to me for a week."

You hummed, sipping more of your beer. "Still not over it."

He snorted, leaning his head back.

The next moments were spent in silence. You and Rafe took turns drinking what was left from the bottle, smiling whenever you would make eye contact, and leaning closer and closer to him until your shoulders touched.

You took a deep breath when you felt Rafe kiss your cheek suddenly. "What was that for?"

"What? Can't I kiss you?" He smiled innocently. "It's not like we haven't done anything more than a kiss."

You threw him a look, knowing that in a few moments, you would be doing something that friends don't normally do. How Rafe could always be turned on, you could never understand. But you don't complain, not when your hormones also betray you every time you see his muscles strain from his tight shirt.

"Come on, Y/n. No one can see us from here." He whispered, his breath tickling your skin as he lowered his face to your neck.

You didn't say anything, and Rafe took it as a sign to move further, abandoning his beer to the side. He placed one hand on your thigh and another hand on your waist. Your head was spinning from both the alcohol and Rafe's hands, suddenly not able to speak as you savor the moment of his lips on your neck.

"What would our parents say when they find out what we do?" He wondered teasingly, smirking when he saw you discreetly push your thighs together. He loved you like this: submissive as you let him do whatever he wanted.

"Probably celebrate. They've been teasing us for years." You finally replied, a laugh coming from your throat as you remembered the times when they would try to set the two of you up in every gathering.

Rafe suddenly lifted the skirt of your sundress, causing you to gasp. "Out here? Really?"

His other hand moved from your waist to your back, feeling for the zipper of your dress. "It's a perfect spot. No one can see us or hear us unless you scream, of course."

His cocky attitude made you roll your eyes, though your cunt already fluttered at the thought of being bare under his body as the sunset. "We have to be fast, got it?"

You didn't give him a chance to reply as you tilted your body, swiftly pushing him back so you could move on top and straddle him. Rafe, although shocked by your sudden movement, smiled cheekily as he witnessed you reach to your back to unzip your dress.

"Damn, baby." He breathed as he eyed the way the straps of the dress dropped, hastily helping you to get out of your clothing. He licked his lips as he stared at the sight of you. Your breasts perked up as the cool sea breeze touched your skin, leaving you in your underwear.

"Take it off, Rafe." You told him, helping him take off the shirt that accentuated his muscles.

Following your request, Rafe moved quickly and placed his shirt on the sand beside the two of you, lifting your hips and guiding you to lay on his shirt.

He finished removing the rest of his clothing, never cutting eye contact with you even as he pulled his cock out. You made a quick look back to the house, making sure that you were not within anyone's eyesight.

You gasped as Rafe pulled your panties down, your cunt fluttering at the excitement. He lowered his head down until it was leveled with your pussy, his manhood hardening at the sight of your wet folds.

Without warning, he gave your cunt a long lick, pushing his warm tongue as deep as he could reach. You moaned loudly and quickly gripped his hair, your back arching as he sucked on your clit.

Rafe reached a hand upwards to cover your mouth, not too tight to restrict you from breathing but just enough to muffle your moans. Your chest heaving as you gasped, the alcohol and his tongue working together to give you the best pleasure.

Rafe himself was groaning as he enjoyed the sight of your writhing body, his heart swelling with pride, knowing that it was only him who could make you feel that way.

Your moans were exchanged with whines when he suddenly moved away from your pussy, kneeling in front of you as he stroked his stiff dick.

"You said we have to be fast." He chuckled, teasing you. "Ready, baby?"

After seeing you nod, Rafe pushed himself inside you, a loud groan erupting from his lips as he felt your warm and wet folds around him.

"Best cunt in the world." He whispered to himself.

You let out a loud moan as he filled you completely, growing needy and desperate for a release. "Move, Rafe. Make me cum, please."

Your words sounded like music to Rafe's ears, further feeding his ego. "Since you asked nicely."

In one quick movement, Rafe thrust in and out of you, lifting one of your legs to wrap around his waist so he could reach deeper.

The sounds of both of your breaths were mixed with the sound of the ocean waves as sweat grew on the surface of your skin. You were shamelessly whining and moaning in every thrust while Rafe was closing his eyes as he groaned in pleasure.

He pushed your other leg upwards, having you nearly folded in half as he pushed harder. He looked down to where you two were connected, his cock twitching at the sight. "Taking me so well, baby. Come on, I know you're close."

You were panting, breathless, and unable to speak. Your hands were clawing on Rafe's shoulder, wanting to push him away from the overwhelming feeling.

"R-Rafe…" You breathed out, feeling your pussy pulsate around him.

"Yes, Y/n. Go on, cum for me." He urged you, his pace never stopping nor slowing down.

You looked at him, admiring how he looked with his disheveled hair and warm cheeks. His muscles were tensing as he thrusted faster.

Without warning, he pulled your legs apart slightly, just enough so he could reach your clit with his hand. You almost screamed at the contact, another surge of gratification taking over your body as he pinched your bud.

"Fuck, Rafe!"

He smiled, hips going faster until he felt you cum around his cock. Your hips were jerking upward as you released, thighs shaking as you squirted on him.

Rafe moaned loudly, and after a few more thrusts, he released his load inside of you, not letting a drop go to waste.

You were quiet as you panted underneath Rafe, your legs still shaking occasionally while you enjoyed the feeling of both of your cum inside you.

Rafe was whispering compliments in your ear softly, stroking your skin as he slowly pulled himself out. He then helped you back into your underwear and dress, gently guiding you as you regained your balance. Rafe was quicker as he dressed himself up, grabbing your hand immediately and leading you back to the house.

"Let's clean up inside before Sarah finds us here."

[melodic-haze]

Personally how touched starved do you think Arlecchino and Furina are? Like one has been alone for 500 years and the other killed her best friend and probably doesn’t think she deserves love.

☆ — DEMO TRACK: Arlecchino x Reader, Furina x Reader

☆ — TYPE: SFW

☆ — CONTENT WARNINGS: N/A

Oh I think they'd be VERY fucking touch starved, except the two are like. On two different sides of the scale

On one end, you've got Furina. On the other end, you've got Arlecchino. What they're on a scale of? How "vocal" they would be in terms of it

Furina would be on the VERY vocal side, and by that I mean she WILL monologue to you about how she needs your touch or else she will PERISH from a lack of you-contact

Furina puts the back of her hand on her forehead, "My beloved wants to leave me be! Oh, you torture me..."

"Babe, I'm literally only going to get a glass of water."

"You forget my domain over the element!" She moves to throw herself onto you, wrapping her arms around your neck and causing you to laugh as you caught her, "I can satisfy your needs easily!"

"At that rate I'll be better off taking a shower!"

"It gets the job done!"

But she's not vocal for no reason :((( 500 years spent in self-isolation in order to save her people takes a HUGE toll on you so the moment Furina had realised that she doesn't have to do the whole song and dance all over again, she just can't help the want—the need—to basically be attached to you

It's not just because she wants to make up for lost time after FINALLY being able to do so, but also because she's scared that one day it'll all just go poof and disappear in a distant dream. She doesn't speak of her troubles until either she decides it herself that she should or one of the members of her Salon Solitaire (Crabaletta lol) decides to conk her for it

Sometimes she'll ask if she's being a pain in the ass bc she IS aware that she's constantly wanting for you to at LEAST be near her which. If you say she is then I need to sit you down personally and slap you in NOT a fun way

Meanwhile, Arlecchino on the other hand, is VERY quiet about it. She won't say anything, nevermind doing anything. She'd restrict herself from clinging onto you as much as she'd like to

You were a vision to her, a lovely sight to see and a lovely voice to hear as you recounted your day's events. Even when you did something so mundane, something that isn't necessarily something special, Arlecchino still looked at you with such adoration.

She almost didn't notice her hand inching closer towards yours from her warm daze.

Almost.

Before she could draw it back unnoticed, however, you turned your head at just the right (or wrong) time.

"Arlecchino? Is there.. something wrong?"

..She shakes her head instead of admitting her desires, "No, my apologies, darling. I was rather captivated by your tale. Do tell me more about your friend's predicament."

And so you do, but you couldn't help but notice the longing look in her eyes.

It takes a while before she starts warming up to the idea of letting herself actually do SOMETHING. And that'll take a lot of time, patience and encouragement from her❗️❗️❗️ But trust when I say it's worth it bc she practically treats you with so much more affection and devotion than the literal archon she serves HAHA

She doesn't thinks she deserves to show physical affection, to touch you, to truly worship you and your body in every way she can—not when she has the power to hurt you, not when she's killed off the person she had cherished the most all those years ago :(

You gotta reassure her that everything's okay and that you won't disappear bc once you've done that? She's SO TOUCHY she will NOT go through the day without havign some form of contact with you

She won't do it as much in work though she has a reputation she wants to keep lmao

[bagerfluff]

i love casper!! Can i request jealous casper because he met reader's ex or someone very close and felt insecure and stuff! Maybe drama with the ex still in love with reader and gets casper all heated up by saying things like "i can make him feel so good. Bet you can't compete. He moans so loud with me and he cums inside me sooo much."

Reader has no idea why casper is suddenly down/anxious and irritated

An: Hi, I hope you like this and have a good day/night/after noon. Don't forget to drink water :)

Jealous Of The Ex

Sub/Bottom Casper x Top/Dom Male Reader

Prompt - Jealous

Warnings - Fingering, unprotected sex, anal sex, praise, nicknames

I also want it noted while that there is smut it is not the main part of this fic, I recommend you read all of it. But if you want to get straight to the smut but go past the caution tape.

“For the last time, stop calling me!”

You yelled into your phone. You pulled your phone away from your ear and ended the call. You groaned and placed your phone on your desk, ignoring the beeps.

“Everything okay sunshine?” Casper asked, he doesn’t think he’s seen you so angry. He’s been listening to you yell into your phone for the past hour.

“It’s just my ex, they won't leave me alone. I think they still like me”, you said. You walked over to your bed and flopped on it. You took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself down.

Meanwhile Casper was thinking, he knew you had an ex, just not that they were like this. Casper felt angry at them, you obviously didn’t like them anymore, plus, they were making you stressed.

Casper heard your phone beep. Casper walked over to it, the screen lit up and Casper read the message. “Come on baby, I know you still love me”, it read, making Casper’s blood boil.

Casper turned the phone off, placing its screen down on the table. How dare they think you still like them, you loved Casper now, right? I mean, you said that you dated your ex for a few years before breaking up.

You’ve only known Casper for several months now. What if? Casper shook his head, no, he was being paranoid. Casper walked over to your bed and layed down next to you.

“It’s fine, they’ll stop”, Casper said. You sighed, “yeah you're right”, you said, turning your head to smile at Casper. Casper smiled back, yeah, you loved him.

Not your ex.

Casper heard a knock at the door.

Which confused him, you were still at work and you didn’t tell Casper that anyone would be coming. Casper placed his book down and walked to the door.

“Yes”, Casper said as he opened it. “Yeah, is Y/n here?” The person asked, peeking behind Casper. “Do you know him?” Casper asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Yes, I’m his partner, but who are you?” The person asked. Casper felt hands grip his arms tighter. So this was your ex, Casper could see what you dumped them.

Just hearing them speak made Casper want to punch them in their face. Plus, they were lying. Casper was your boyfriend, you were his and he was yours.

“No, I’m his boyfriend, now listen”, Casper said quietly, but angry.

“You’re just a ex who can’t get over him, I’m the one Y/n fucked last night, not you. I’m the one that got him moaning over me. I’m the one that made him cum inside me, you’re just an asshole”, Casper said through gritted teeth

The ex stared at Casper with wide eyes, “fine dude, whatever”, they turned on their heels and walked away. Casper slammed the door shut with a grunt.

Casper leaned against the door, who did they think they were. Who did they think they were? Casper did have to admit, they did look good.

You had dated them for years, you liked them, you fucked them. What if? What if they convinced you to go back with them? What if? Casper heard the door open.

Casper fell back but you caught him, “Whoa, you good Casp?” You asked, pushing him back up onto his feet. Casper furrowed his brows, walking away from you.

“You okay Casper?” You asked while taking off your shoes and jacket. Casper mumbled stuff to himself as you followed him. Casper turned around and sat on your bed, arms crossed and pout on his face.

“What's wrong?” You asked, worry evident on your face as you sat next to him. Casper turned his head away from you, he wasn’t mad anymore. He was more jealous.

You were the most important thing to Casper, he loved you more than anything. The thought of losing you scared Casper more than anything.

Casper hated it, Casper did all of this for you.

He ran away from everything he knew for you and then he might lose you. “Are you okay?” You asked Casper, noticing tears slowly running down his face. “I’m fine”, Casper said.

You turned to face Casper, “what happened?” You asked, grabbing Casper’s face in your hand and turning his face towards you. Casper stared at you before looking away and glaring.

“You’re ex visited, made me jealous”, Casper said. You sighed, “I’ll get a straining reorder on them I swear”, you mumbled. “But, you don’t have to be jealous. I love you, not them”, you said with a smile.

Casper calmed down, “yeah, I guess”, Casper said, though he was still a little jealous. Casper was a bit jealous about something else, about how you fucked them.

He knew you dated them before, but how they looked when Casper brought up the fucking. Casper was jealous of that. “You okay, you still look angry”, you said.

You glanced down, noticed a boner in Casper’s pants.

“Oh, that’s what you're still jealous about”, you said with a smirk. Casper looked towards you, just to see you smirking. “Oh, don’t worry, I’ll show you just how good you make me feel”, you pushed Casper onto his back.

You took off your shirt and opened your bedside draw, taking out a bottle of lube. Casper moved back on the bed, the smirk on his face matching your own.

You looked at Casper before nodding your head to his pants. Casper quickly removed his pants and boxes, revealing his half hard dick. You lifted one of Casper’s legs and lined up a lubed finger to his hole.

“Hmmm, yes”, Casper groaned as you slowly started to finger him. “You’re my boyfriend, my perfect fuck toy”, you said while adding another finger.

Casper moaned at the praise. You added another finger and sped up, your dick getting harder hearing Casper moan. Once you thought Casper was prepared enough you let his leg fall.

You grabbed the bottle of lube and squeezed some into your hand. “Look at this love, you made me feel like this”, you said. Casper leaned up on his arms, staring at your erect dick.

You didn’t remove your pants, just took your dick out. You didn’t have the patience to wait. Casper moaned and watched as you slid your dick into his hole.

“Ahhah~”, Casper moaned as you started moving slowly. “Do you feel me honey? Nobody can make me feel like this”, you said. Casper moaned again, “F-faster~, m-more~”, Casper groaned.

“As you wish”, you said before doing exactly what Casper wanted.

“Nnggee~, hmhmh~”, Casper moaned  as you sped up. You groaned and leaned down, trapping Casper’s head between your hands. “You heard me pretty boy, you do this”, you groaned into Casper's ear.

Casper moaned and bucked his hips forward. You moaned and sped when you felt Casper tighten around you. “C-cumming~”, Casper moaned as he came on his and your stomachs.

You groaned and leaned back up, thrusting faster as you chased your orgasm. “Ahaha~”, Casper moaned as you came inside of him. You pulled out and smiled at the sight of cum dripping out of Casper’s ass.

You leaned back down and kissed Casper on the forehead. “I love you, not anyone else”, you said. Casper smiled, wrapping his arms around your neck to pull you closer to him. “I love you too, more than anything”, Casper said.

You were his, and he was yours.

[penkura]

No One Better

Note: Ahh I didn't know how to go about this, but here it is! It's another in the OP Men as Dads series, but this one is ONLY Zoro and his son. I just had this idea after seeing this OC template on Pinterest, and I had to do it, I couldn't not. I have thoughts floating around for other characters in this same vein of calming down their children, and I will post them separately like this most likely! For now, please enjoy Zoro being a wonderful, soft dad to his little boy. 🥹 I want to have his babies so bad, where is my irl Zoro omg

Your son may be Zoro’s child too, but he’s a big crybaby when either of you are missing from his sight. He could be happily sitting in your lap or on Zoro’s chest, but when Keitaro notices one of you isn’t around, he immediately pouts and begins to cry. At first it’s legitimate tears, until he learns that he can get you with crocodile tears because that’s your baby boy, of course you’re going to run to him when he cries! You figured it out quickly when he instantly started to smile and coo at you the first time he cried crocodile tears to get your attention, Zoro didn’t believe you for a few weeks until your ten-month-old did it to him too. He just loves you and Zoro so much, he wants you both around him all the time.

Zoro is able to calm him down very easily, just by talking to Keitaro gently. An older woman on an island you stopped at was surprised to see how easily Keitaro calmed down and went from nearly sobbing to happy little giggles when Zoro just took him from you and started asking him what was wrong, why was he so upset all of a sudden (he couldn’t see Zoro standing nearby, that was the problem). The woman was highly impressed and said her own husband hadn’t been that good with their children, it made you smile and thank her for the compliment, since you knew Zoro would never.

Keitaro is big enough to sit up on your lap during a party between your crew, the Heart Pirates, and the Kid Pirates when the three of you run into each other. Members of your (now permanently) allied crews coo and fawn over your son, the youngest of all the crews, and he adores the attention he receives from all these new people. Once everyone goes back to drinking and playing games, you choose to stay to the side with Keitaro, keeping him from the alcohol and making sure he stays happy while everything goes on, and he does, looking around at everyone and giggling when he sees Luffy do something funny.

Keitaro is happy and calm until he realizes he doesn’t see Zoro anywhere, making your nearly year old son start to pout and fuss. You try your hardest to calm him down when he really starts to cry and kick his legs because he’s frustrated, quietly speaking to him and placing kisses on his little head to help.

“Hey, little guy,” you feel beyond relived when Zoro comes over, resting his arms on your thighs and getting nose to nose with your son, which starts to calm him down, “What’re you crying for?”

Keitaro slowly calms down, looking at Zoro cross-eyed at first before his eyes fully focus on him, starting to smile and coo again as he puts his tiny hands on Zoro’s face. It makes Zoro smile in return as he takes your son from you, intending to give you a small break.

“Let’s give mama a few minutes to enjoy the party too, yeah?” Zoro gently tosses your son in the air a few times, Keitaro letting out squeals and giggles in response.

You slip away to the girls for a while, Ikkaku giving you a smile and telling you how lucky you are with Zoro, causing you to look back at them with your own smile. Keitaro has his thumb in his mouth as he lays against Zoro’s chest where he can see you, content and slowly falling asleep, while your husband rubs his back to help him relax.

“He’s really the best dad to Keitaro, I couldn’t have asked for anything better.”

[sinofwriting]

Out Loud - Charles Leclerc

Words: 1,807 Summary: She hasn’t been herself and she knows it’s worrying people, Charles. She just can’t get the words out. Note(s)/Warning(s): Reader is Jules Bianchi’s daughter and Charles’ goddaughter. Reader has longish hair. Coming Out (as Bisexual), Some Self Harm, Not Eating, Mentions of Throwing Up, Religious Trauma. Honestly this fic is kind of me just dumping my feelings out after being reminded of my less than great coming out experience as bisexual to my parents. I’m okay, just needed to write this and uh get back into therapy. If I missed a warning, let me know and if anyone reading this needs to talk, I’m here for you. (also, I promise that Dark Max fic is coming, Charles winning Monaco just threw a spanner into my plans and then this fic happened as well)

Masterlist | Emergency Dental Fund

She’s never said the words out loud. Never spoke them to herself or others. And she isn’t sure why. It can’t because it will make them true. They already are.

And she knows why. It’s not because it will make them true. They already are. It’s because she knows that as soon as she says them once, she’ll never stop.

The idea of saying them as her shaking, has her stomach twisted in knots, has her throwing up, headaches that won’t leave from all her crying. It’s all self-inflicted because she can’t say the words. And it’s only two words, three if she’s going for proper grammar and yet they won’t leave her. They refuse to spill from her tongue and past her lips. They settle in her throat and strangle her. Leave her gasping for breath, clawing at her throat in hopes that their grip will loosen. But it never works out that way.

Charles is concerned. She sees it every time he looks at her. She’s lost weight, because even though she’s stress eating, when she’s not doing that she’s throwing it all back up, and she cries while doing both. Her face is starting to lean towards gaunt and the circles under her eyes are growing larger. She can only hope that he doesn’t see the bruises on the inner sides of her wrists, on her inner thighs, where she pinches and squeezes, barely even noticing the pain that it causes because it’s something for her fingers to do.

He’s concerned and she knows because Arthur is concerned too. And suddenly Pierre is going to be staying with them for a while, ditching Kika because she apparently has a family trip, no boyfriends allowed, even though she knows from a friend of a friend that Kika and Pierre had plans together in Greece and Bora Bora. Plans that Kika was apparently happy to reschedule.

She’s so lost in her head, in her thoughts, in her wishes that she could just speak that she doesn’t hear the light knock of knuckles on her bedroom door before it opens.

“Pierre is going to be here soon. You should get up, come greet him.” Charles' voice is gentle, always gentle with her, even when she doesn’t deserve it. “I’m tired.” She breathes and it’s not a lie. She is tired. Tired of being a coward, tired of pretending like she will ever say when she needs to and really she should just get over herself at this point. But it’s more frightening, the idea of never saying the words at all then what could happen if she does say them. “You can go back to bed after seeing him for a moment, I promise.” Her eyes flutter shut at his last two words and she nods. “Okay. I need to shower.”

As she climbs out of bed, she wobbles and she can feel his eyes on her. “Do you need help?” She tries to smile at him, but she knows that it doesn’t work with the way the worry grows on his face. “I think I’m too old for my godfather to help me shower.” Something crosses his face as if he’s only now remembering she isn’t a little girl anymore, she’s eighteen, no longer the nine-year-old he got stuck with. “I guess so.” He gives her a smile. “I’ll be in the living room, I’ll do your hair for you.” She wants to protest, but he closes the door before she can and she knows that it’s on purpose.

Charles loved doing her hair and when she had turned twelve for a while it had been the only time she would talk to him about anything, even what she ate for dinner the previous night. As she washes her hair, she tries to think of the last time he had done it. Even just giving it a small brush before they left for dinner somewhere or him braiding it or him trying to turn her hair into some sort of flower before going back to just making it look like a rose. When was the last time he had done that? When was the last time she let him do that for her?

It had been before the season started, just before he left for the first race. She remembers now because his hands were anxious to do something. Worried that it’d be a repeat of 2022 where it would start off good and then end in disappointment. She winces as she thinks of how long it’s been and the reminder of what 2023 has been like for him.

Drying off and slipping into an old shirt of Charles from karting and a pair of Lorenzo’s shorts, she nearly goes back to bed. It’s tempting, the blankets comfy and her sheets soft, but she walks past it and out of her bedroom.

Charles is already sitting on the couch, legs spread with a pillow on the ground between them. A host of hair things sit beside him on the couch cushions. The detangler she’s used all her life that Pascale always gives her, the special made f1 car clips from Max, pearl clips from her grandma and grandpa, the bands from her aunt, the different brushes Sebastian bought her that first year Charles was at Ferrari that only get used when Charles and her are going to be doing this for a while.

Seeing them makes her pause. “I thought Pierre was going to be here soon.” He smiles at her, fond and happy, but still worried and concerned. “Within the hour. But he has a key, he’ll let himself in.” She nods, slowly moving closer until she finally sinks onto the floor, sitting on the pillow. Instantly, Charles’ hands are in her hair, tutting at the barely damp locks. “I will have to take you to grandmère soon. It’s been too long.” “I went not that long ago.” “You went just after the season started. We are in August now.” She makes a humming sound, eyes focusing on the tv that’s turned off.

It’s soothing the feeling of her godfather’s fingers in her hair, running through it, quietly hissing each time he comes across a knot, no matter how small. The quiet apologies that spill from his lips each time he tugs what he deems to harsh, when it is barely a tug at all.

“Y’know.” He begins. “When you were born you had no hair. It was amusing to all of us because your father had been promising grandmère that she’d have a grandbaby’s hair to play with. And my father,” Charles takes a breath and she leans into his right leg a little. “He had told him the whole time not to promise that. Jules was beside himself when you didn’t get any hair until you were six months.” “I was a bald baby.” Charles laughs. “The baldest baby.”

“I’m sorry.” She murmurs after a few moments. “For what?” She can see from the corner of her eye him picking up a brush. “For how your season is going. Ferrari is not doing well.” “Ferrari is managing. There is lots of changes and this is not the car that Fred wanted for us, but it is the one we have.” “You think 2024 will be better?” “I don’t know what to think other than I can not think about that. I don’t want more disappointment or broken promises.” “You deserve a good car, the best car.” “Perhaps I’ll get it someday.”

As he starts to brush her hair, her eyes wander, looking at all the pictures she can see and has seen countless times before. There’s many, most of family, some of friends, and some of Charles’ time with Ferrari, in racing. As her eyes wander further, they stop on the small cross hanging on by the window. It makes her breathing stutter and she rips her eyes away from it, forcing them to look back at the blank tv.

But seeing just for a few seconds was enough.

“Charles.” He makes a humming noise, his movements not stilling. “If I had to tell you something,” she swallows, thinking of her backpack by the front door that’s got two spare sets of clothes, her wallet, all her identification, and more importantly a spare phone. “Something that would change things, how would you react?” “That is very vague.” He tells her, fingers starting to twist her hair. “It would depend on how it changes things.” “It would change how you saw me.” That makes him pause and she catches his eyes, so expressive in the tv reflection. “Nothing could change how I feel about you. You are my goddaughter, I love you. I’ve raised you since you were nine. Nothing could ever change the love I have for you.” Tears that had started to build in her eyes when he first started to talk, fall. “I’m,” she takes a shaky breath. “I’m bisexual.”

Silence fills the room and she can’t breathe, can’t take a breath, can’t break the silence, as she waits for him to say something, anything. She doesn’t even realize, but she’s started to move a little away from him, ready to bolt, ready to slip on her shoes by the door, grab her backpack and make a run for it. Because she’s ready. She’s ready for him to tell her to leave, to get out of his house. She’s ready for him to drag her to church, to make her pray like she hasn’t already for wanting not just men, but also women. She’s ready.

She is so unbelievably unready for what he actually says.

“Are you still who I raised you to be?” “Yes.” She nods, not even having to think. Because she is, she promises that she is. She is still the girl that Charles taught to be kind, to be nice, to make sure she is always heard. She is still the little girl that Charles became a godfather to. She’s still the girl that Charles became a father to as well. “I am.” She sobs. “Oh, mon bébé.” He sighs and he’s turning her around before pulling her up into his lap, making her curl up against him as she sobs into his shirt.

“I love you so much. You being bisexual doesn’t change a thing. And I’m sorry if I ever made you think that it would.” “Papa.” She cries and his lips are pressing to her forehead as he somehow manages to rock her. “Thank you for trusting me with this, with you.” He tells her when her sobs have died down and she’s able to look at him with not blurry vision. “I’m sorry I took so long.” “No.” He shakes his head, wiping her tears. “You took as much time as you needed.”

[osamiiya]

AITA- Miya Atsumu x Reader

Summary: Am I the asshole for falling in love with my volleyball team manager? They’re also my childhood friend and I accidentally ran away from them after kissing them after we won the finals…

Atsumu kisses his team manager on accident (he’s in love with them) and turns to reddit for help.

Rating: Teen (For language!)

Warnings: Language!!

Notes: Mainly from Atsumu POV, lmk if we ever want the reader’s POV, no pronouns or gender identifying characters used in regards to the reader! The ending is rushed idk where I was going with this.

A/n: Hi it’s been a while i’m in college now and recently rewatched haikyuu so expect things (possibly) from me this summer

Atsumu’s fingers hover above his phone keypad, glaring down at the blinking text cursor staring back up at him. He gnaws on his lip slightly, feeling the salty sweat from the days activities on his tongue.

He hadn’t meant for this to happen. He got caught up in the moment! It could happen to anyone, really!

One thing you know, you’re watching the ball hit the floor on the other side of the net. Heart pumping and ears ringing from the adrenaline and excitement of the successful setter dump. The poor, distraught faces staring up at him from across the net.

Atsumu promises he’s not a psychopath.

If anything, it was the cheers that erupted from the crowd, boosting his confidence and grinding his decision making skills lower than they already are (according to ‘Samu).

Heart pumping, his head whipped to the side, tunnel visioning on your bright smile from the sidelines. In fact, his feet moved without his consent, pulled by some invisible force dragging him to you.

Next thing he knows, he’s gathering your face in his hands, gently, a complete contradiction to the wild, vibrant, exhilarating emotions working their way through his body.

Atsumu’s eyes met yours, his tongue flicking out to wet his lips, then he was leaning in, then his eyes fluttered shut as he pressed his lips to yours.

He doesn’t even know if you closed your eyes.

And the kiss was… not like what he wanted his first kiss with you to be.

Sure, there were fireworks, and he’s been dreaming of this moment for years and years. And Atsumu thinks he could die in the next five minutes and die without any regrets. Then his eyes snap open, as realization pours over him like a bucket of ice water. Thinking about it now, Atsumu thinks the realization is more abrupt. Like a slap to the face, or like the time Osamu ripped his bandaid off his leg.

Within the mere seconds of eye contact and lip contact, Atsumu has four different realizations:

1. His mother was in the stands, watching her son kiss the kid she remembers from her sons’ childhood, always knocking on their door asking if “‘Tsumu and ‘Samu wanted to pass the volleyball around with them.

2. His team was probably watching him kiss their team manager. He would get an earful from Kita no matter what, and he would probably disappear in mysterious and ominous ways if they quit the manager position because of this.

3. He was sweaty. Almost obnoxiously so. The hands cupping your face? Disgusting. They were on the floor, touching the volleyball, slick with sweat, and somehow dry all at once. His face? Sweaty. His hair? Probably all messed up from sweat.

The fourth and final realization is arguably the most important:

4. The two of you were not dating. In fact, you had no idea of these feelings he had been harboring for you. And by kissing you, not only had he revealed these feelings, but possibly, completely ruined the almost 10 year friendship between the two of you.

All of these realizations poured over Atsumu like a bucket of ice water.

He pulls away from you, like he had been burned by the slight pressure on his lips. He stares at you for a moment, barely registering the commotion around the two of you.

And he bolts.

Atsumu realizes that he doesn’t care about going to nationals anymore, and instead only cares about getting to the furthest location from Gymnasium 1. His legs, of course, also do not care that he played five sets, and carry him all the way to his backpack, tucked in some stairway with everyone else’s gear, and into the bathroom. Slamming the door behind him.

He mutters a few curse words as he locks the door, staring at the empty row of stalls in front of him.

“I’m going to live out my life and die in this bathroom.” He groans out, burying his face in his (disgusting) hands.

He fishes his phone out of his backpack. He goes through a mental checklist of the people he knows and is willing to ask for advice about.

Atsumu draws a blank.

‘The internet will know.’ Atsumu thinks. It would be better for random strangers to counsel him.

He starts typing.

“Am I the asshole for running away from someone after kissing them?”

Atsumu thinks he’s an asshole, but maybe the internet sees the situation differently.

“I (17M) am in love with my high school volleyball team manager. We‘re childhood friends, and I remember loving them as love as I remember how the sun feels on my skin. This year we won all of our matches and quality to advance to spring nationals.

The last match we won had everyone really hyped. In the midst of the excitement, I kissed my manager. In front of everyone. And then I ran. Because I’m scared.

I’m currently hiding in the bathroom, because I don’t know what else to do, and I suppose my excitement got the best of me, but i’m not sure I can continue daily life knowing what the pressure of their lips against mine was. I want to confess but If it goes wrong, everything in my life gets impacted.

Did I ruin any chance at anything by running? It was kind of a dick move.

Thoughts?”

He posts it.

A minute later his phone lights up with a notification informing him of a response. Several responses.

“Yes, you’re an asshole. People need to use this bathroom.”

“It was mad funny”

“Please come out so we can talk.”

A cold sweat forms on his neck when he realizes it was his personal account he posted from. Rookie mistake.

If he does die, Atsumu would rather be in the doorway of the bathroom, rather than surrounded but the smells of different bodily…things.

He opens the door, smiling at you sheepishly.

“Hey, what brings you here?”

Your smile doesn’t reach your lips, and Atsumu sweats.

“Have something to say?” Your voice only serves to speed up the heart palpitations in his chest. Atsumu is even sure that if you were looking at his eyes, you would see them dilate in affection.

He’s making a noise, he realizes. Staring dumbly at your lips, an “um” sound occupying the space as he tries to gather his words and not think about how soft your lips were, or how he could basically taste the smile on your lips.

“I like you… and not in the way I should. I’ve been in love with you forever, and ‘Samu’s always on my case about it and I really don’t know what to do about it and you looked so pretty smiling there after we won and I dunno I just-“

Your lips are on his again, interrupting the word vomit spilling from his lips.

He melts, and his hands come up to grip your waist as his eyes flutter closed and he leans into the kiss.

And suddenly the pressure is gone, your eyes sparkling with mischief as you mumble against his lips, before dashing down the hall.

“I like you too.”

Atsumu’s quick to follow, feeling the burn of overworked muscle in his thighs, and listening to the sound of your laugh echo down the hall.

He guesses he’s not as big of an asshole as he thought.

[brighttears]

The Mirror

Joel Miller x f!reader, Found Family Joel x Ellie

Summary: In Jackson, Joel and Ellie have settled down, and you’ve joined their little family. You and Ellie have bonded over poking fun at him, having no idea how much you’re really hurting his already wounded self esteem. Tommy and Maria step in, and eventually, he finds the courage to speak up for himself. 

Word count: 10k

Warnings: implied age gap, angst, mentions of Sarah, very sad Joel hates himself, is made fun of for his age and briefly weight, Ellie and you are pretty mean, brief pissed off Joel, Joel cries. Happy ending!!!

A/n: hello from my official first story back, finally finishes this request i started before i dipped out for a bit. Worked very closely with them, @anotherpedrolover to get it just right :3 This is less of an x reader and more of just playing around with Joel and his relationships, which has been super fun. Hope you guys like ~8k words of our favorite poor little meow meow suffering teehee

—

It’s become a ritual for the three of you to sit in the living room many evenings, starting with you and Joel encouraging Ellie to read more, followed by a speech by her on hypocrisy and fairness, whereafter the two of you gave in just to calm her down. It’s quite nice, though, sitting around and reading silently. 

You were the one to suggest it, once you felt like you did have room to suggest things, a few months into moving in with the two, having met them nearly a year beforehand here in Jackson. Ellie met you first, then almost literally pulled him to meet you. 

Neither he or Ellie had been that social, keeping mostly to themselves, Tommy and Maria being the only exceptions. You were different, though, that’s what Ellie said, and that’s what Joel came to see, too. He’s not exactly sure what to call that thing, the thing at your core that pulled him in. But it doesn’t matter much, because now you’re here, and he’s never loved a woman as much as he loves you.

As he glances up at you, leg hanging over the side of your chair opposite him, face focused on your book, he can’t help but smile at the spark of warmth he gets at the sight. 

Naturally, Ellie has her legs stretched out over Joel’s lap, him resting his book over them as he sits on the couch. 

She didn’t start being this affectionate until a few months into Jackson. Not all that gradually either, the first few bear hugs genuinely shocking him, but he couldn’t be more pleased with the development. He’s had to get used to affection again himself, coming both from Ellie and you. Now that you live together, he finds himself entwined with you, in one way or another, every single night, and he has found himself indulging more than he has in anything in ages. Nowadays, he eats every touch up like a stray dog. Things like this, Ellie’s lazy legs over his, makes him feel like a father again. Things like twin idling hands over every part of each other you can reach makes him feel like a husband. Nights like these, all gathered in the living room, makes it feel like you’re a family. 

However, his bladder refuses to let him soak up the moment anymore, so he breaks the peaceful silence, sliding Ellie’s legs off of his lap, “Alright, kiddo, I gotta interrupt ya for a minute.” As he gets to his feet, Joel groans automatically, nearly limping on a stiff knee for a moment as he turns around the couch and towards the hallway.

Watching him walk away, Ellie pouts, before a mischievous grin spreads across her face. “Look, look, I’m Joel.” Once she sees him looking at her, she groans, dramatically loud, pushing herself out of her seat slowly, then proceeding to walk even slower, one heavy foot at a time with her back curved and an imaginary cane in her hand. “Aauuh, my back, my knees, aaaugh,” she says with a gravelly voice, face twisted down. Immediately, you’re guffawing. Joel shakes his head as he watches, then looks down to pinch the bridge of his nose with a hint of a smile on his face. Though the impression is pretty funny, he doesn’t love the fact that it’s supposed to be of him. 

“I’m 58, not 80, asswipe.”

“Come oooon,” she laughs, “that was spot on.”

“You do groan like you just got punched in the gut every time you get up.” You chuckle. 

Despite how much he loves the sight, looking at the way you and Ellie grin and laugh with each other suddenly hits a chord in Joel. You’re laughing with each other, at him. It feels like neither of you give a damn about him in this situation at all. He’s just something to make fun. And, is that really how you see him? Senile? 

Joel shakes it off, making himself chuckle, not wanting to ruin the fun, labeling himself as overly sensitive. “Can’t even take a piss in peace.” He mumbles as he turns and walks away, leaving you and Ellie in giggles behind him. 

In the bathroom, he stares at his reflection. Gray, wrinkled, dark circles under his eyes, littered in scars. He guesses it really is the best thing, for you all to be in Jackson, because he doesn't have many more years left out there on the road. He’s lucky he hasn’t gotten himself or Ellie killed, god knows there were more than a few close calls, like when she had to shoot that kid, or had to nurse him back to health when he didn’t see that last guy coming at the university and got himself impaled. He’s too old for that. He’s too old. 

You’re much younger. It confuses him often, why’d you want to be with an old man like him, but he has decided to take what he can get at this point. You haven’t left yet, so he’ll enjoy it while he can. But how many years does he have left of that, if you do stay? With you and Ellie? 

He can barely recognize himself. When did he get this old? His joints ache in changing weather. He has to put significantly more effort into getting up, and yeah, he does groan like he just got punched whenever he does. One day, if he even gets that far, he will need a cane. He won’t even be able to go on patrols. In just a few years, he’ll be useless. He won’t be able to keep anyone safe at all. Hell, he’s probably at this point now. Slow and deaf and weak. 

At least Ellie will have you. But… eventually, you’ll have to take care of him, too.

It all becomes too much. He looks down, and turns the light off. 

—

Tonight is game night at Tommy and Maria’s, the game of choice being Monopoly, both Ellie’s favorite and least favorite, depending on whether or not she wins, though you’re all pretty competitive. She’s in the lead tonight, standing over the table to aggressively shake the dice, then, when they land in her favor, pretty much ending the game, throwing her hands up in victory with a very loud succession of yes’s. Joel, who had been right on her tail, throws his hands up with a dramatic “Aaawww,” a smile under his mock disappointment. 

“Another loss for Joel,” Ellie tells him, smiling, then bows, “thanks to yours truly.”

“That was the luck of the dice, Ellie.” Joel points out, leaning back in his chair. 

“No, that was me beating your ass. You can’t keep up with me, old man.” She smiles, throwing up more air punches. Everyone’s laughing, and Joel tries his best to, but there’s that line he hates. Tommy, however, can't miss the look under his brother's half hearted chuckle. 

“Hey, Joel, help me get some wood for the fire.” Tommy cocks his head to the back door, and the two leave you, Maria, and Ellie inside to chat and put the game back away. 

They start at the woodpile, taking a few logs to the back porch, but at the door, Tommy pauses, setting his small stack down. “Hey, Joel.” Joel places his logs down, then straightens to look at him. Tommy purses his lips, pausing. “Looks like they’re gettin’ along pretty well.”

“Yeah,” Joel looks down with a light smile. “Sure are.” 

“They sure do like to take the mick out on ya.” Joel tries to hide behind a chuckle, but Tommy sees through him like a pane of glass. “Doesn’t seem like you’re havin’ as much fun with it as they are, though.”

“Ah,” Joel waves his hand dismissively, still trying to smile, “it’s all in good fun. I don’t mind.”

Tommy sighs, stepping forward to put his hand on his brother’s shoulder, making him look at him. He draws his brows together, keeping his voice quiet, “You can be honest with me, Joel. I know it’s botherin’ you.”

Joel looks down at his feet. “You’re right I mean, I don’t love their fun bein’ at my expense, but… if they’re havin’ fun and gettin’ along, who am I to stop them?”

“Nah, Joel. It shouldn't be like that. You gotta set up some boundaries or somethin’.”

Joel shakes his head. “It’s no big deal. As long as they’re happy, I don’t care.”

Tommy sighs. “Yeah, well, I care, and I know they do, too. I know it’s hurtin’ you, and I know they would stop doin’ it they knew.”

Joel raises his gaze to look at his brother with genuine eyes. “If they’re happy, I’m happy.”

Pursing his lips, Tommy shakes his head. “You don’t look very happy.”

Brushing it off, Joel chuckles, looking down at his feet again. “Well, I’ll work on that, then.”

Tommy's expression remains the same, almost pleading. Quietly, he urges, “You should tell them, Joel.”

After a moment, Joel replies quietly, “Yeah, yeah.” 

Knowing full well that he won’t, Tommy sighs. After a pause, he sighs again, then picks the logs back up and goes back into the house. 

Joel keeps his gaze on the ground, considering his brother’s words. He imagines the conversation, the hurt and disappointment on the face of two of his favorite people, the shame he’d feel, and the resulting quiet in the house. 

Tommy has talked to him about his bad habit of putting himself last, but he has yet to understand why that’s a problem, why he would deserve it being any other way. 

Though he tries to keep it out of his mind, he thinks about it every day, how he lied to Ellie after Salt Lake City. Sometimes, when he looks at her, that’s all he sees, and he sees the same thing in the mirror. He betrayed her. And he can’t find a way to tell her. So, doesn’t he owe her his own suffering? He can repent without telling her by letting her be as mean as she wants, even though he knows she doesn’t mean to be. It's better than how she would treat him if she knew what he did. 

He feels so disconnected from her already, but he can’t stand to lose her. That’s why he did what he did in the first place, both the killing and the lying. He just can’t. 

He deserves this. He’s a liar, he's weak, he's old, he’s not fun like he used to be. He can’t keep up. So, why should he say anything? What makes him deserve to stand up for himself? Why would he deserve any respect at all? 

He just can’t lose her. Or you. Even if this is how it is from now on, being made fun of, it’s better than nothing. 

Joel takes a deep breath, picks up the thick, heavy logs, and walks back through the door, wiping the sour look on his face as he enters back into the sound of banter and laughter. 

He does pretty well, his training of keeping himself hidden away with a composed mask paying off. Still, it’s on his mind. 

It’s impulsive, really, when he poses the question casually to Ellie, “You really think I can’t keep up with you? Gettin’ too old?”

“Pff,” Ellie chuckles, elbowing him. “Don’t get me wrong, you can hold your own, but look at those gray hairs. You could be my grandpa.” To Ellie, it’s funny, but Joel’s guts twist. He laughs it off. 

He slinks to your side then, sliding his arm around your waist. You offer a sweet smile and a kiss to his cheek. He leans into it, but swallows hard. 

“Hey uh,” he tries with you, “Little Ellie said she thinks I could be her grandpa. Makin’ be feel like a manther.”

“Manther?” You crinkle your brow, a hint of a laugh on your lips.

“Yeah, you know,” he cocks his head, self conscious. “Like I’m uh, too old for you.”

You chuckle, pressing another kiss to his cheeks. “I like the gray.” That’s all you say before turning back to the conversation. Though you lean into his side, it doesn’t make Joel feel any closer to you. 

He is an old man. And that’s about it. 

He doesn’t deserve either of you. He’s not enough.

He has no idea what he’s doing here. 

—

It’s a slow, quiet morning in Jackson, Joel still sleepy as he sips his coffee, sitting at the breakfast bar as you pour a cup of your own across from him in the kitchen. Despite the seeming dullness of them, mornings like these are one of Joel’s favorite things. Simply peaceful, no dreading the day, he’s allowed to be only half awake. With the love of his life to share it with, and Ellie to come join you whenever she decides to pull herself out of bed—because she’s allowed to take her time, now, too. Joel looks at you, standing with your back against the counter with a mug in your hand. There’s a light smile on your face, but you’re looking at the floor, which is curious, and then you wink, but he barely has time to register it before Ellie comes jumping up from the other side of the counter, yelling “BOO!” right in his face.

“Jesus fuck—” he yells on impulse, almost flinging coffee on himself as he lurches back in his seat, eyes wide, instantly completely awake. You and Ellie immediately erupt in laughter, Ellie leaning over the counter at him with a wide grin. “Jesus, Ellie.” He sighs deeply, closing his eyes and taking a breath as he leans back in his chair. 

“Gotta keep you on your toes, old man.” Ellie giggles while you continue in your fit of laughter. 

“Yeah, yeah.” Joel rolls his eyes, sighing again as he leans wearily over the counter, trying to catch his bearings and calm his pulse.

Still laughing, you and Ellie high five. “That was good,” you giggle at her, then look at him as he rubs his eyes, a faint smile still on his lips. It’s hard to be in a bad mood when the two of you are laughing like this. “You’re too easy, Joel.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.” He chuckles lightly, “So much for a peaceful morning. Christ, one of these days you’re gonna give me a heart attack, Ellie.”

“Aw, you can handle it.” She replies, going around the bar to slap his shoulder, still grinning. “Besides, I know CPR.”

Joel looks at her, attitude in his voice when he asks, “Do you?” Because he knows full well that she does not know CPR.

“Yeah. It’s like that song, you know, the one that goes, being alive, being alive,”

“You mean stayin’ alive?”

“Yeah, whatever, that.”

“That’s a song, Ellie, not CPR. And you don’t even know the damn song.”

“Well… she knows CPR.” She points at you, “Right?”

You nod, an amused smile on your face, “Yes, I do.”

“Then you’ll be fiiiine.” Ellie slaps Joel’s shoulder again, and he gives her a look, brows raised.

“Well, I would prefer not to have to get CPR at all.”

“Well, I’m surprised you haven’t gotten used to being boo’d by me by now.”

“Boo’d?” Joel scrunches his raised brows.

“Yeah, you know, BOO.”

Joel looks at her, hiding amusement with a mask of the fuck are you talking about. Then he shakes his head, going back to his coffee. “I swear to god, you two.” He mumbles into a sip, holding in a chuckle. 

“Aw, come on, you love it.” You say with a smile. He raises his eyebrows at you, answering flatly, “Sure I do.” Which only makes you and Ellie laugh more. 

With Ellie in the kitchen, the morning is no longer quiet, now filled with banter and conversation. Joel stays mostly quiet with his coffee, observing. He really was enjoying the peacefulness, and it takes a while for his pulse to calm, but what’s important is the two of you; you’re his favorite show. He loves nothing more than to see you two happy. And you fit each other very well—you can actually keep up with her. 

You’re his favorite person, and probably Ellie’s favorite, too. The two of you are thick as thieves, and have grown to love making fun out of him. But it’s good, it’s good that you’ve bonded over it. That’s what matters. Because you two are far more important than he is. 

—

Joel is exhausted tonight, though the patrol wasn’t too much. A few Infected at the tree line, not much more, but his sleep hasn’t been the best lately. It’s starting to get chilly again, and he has been looking forward to getting home to a warm house, and to hopefully catch Ellie before she goes to bed. 

When he enters the house, he can hear familiar, faint giggling from upstairs. He smiles at it, hanging his coat on its hook by the door before starting up the steps. The quiet chatter is coming from Ellie’s room, and his smile only grows as he pushes the door open with his knuckle. 

The two of you whip your heads to him, sitting cross legged on the floor. 

“What’re you two gigglin’ about?” He asks with a smirked smile. 

“Nothing.” Is Ellie’s immediate reply, a mischievous smile plastered on her face. 

“Nothin’, huh?” Joel’s heart falls, but he keeps it to himself. “I take it I won’t get to hear about this then, huh?” He tries to keep the smile on his lips, though his chest is starting to ache. 

“Yeah, it’s just between us girls, you know.” You smile like Ellie. 

“Oh. Ok.” He clears his throat, feet shifting out of the doorway. “I guess I’ll uh, leave you two to it then.” All you do is smile at him, a dismissal of his presence, and he backs out of the doorway and leaves for his bedroom. 

As he unties his boots, Joel’s heart gets heavier and heavier. He kicks them off, changes, and slides into bed, wanting the day to be over. But his mind won’t obey, keeping him from sleep once again. 

It used to be between him and Sarah. They’d have all kinds of late night talks, granted it wasn’t a school night. He knew everything, all the teachers she liked and didn’t, every crush, why the book she was assigned for homework was stupid. And he’d talk about work, everything that was going on, the deadlines that kept getting impossibly tighter, how the apprentices were doing. 

They’d talk about where they wanted to go on vacation, what colleges Sarah was daydreaming about despite her youth, whether or they should get a dog or a cat, what it would be like if Sarah’s mom was still around. 

Everything. 

On the road, he and Ellie would talk about plenty of stuff. They got close. He remembers when they were riding to where the Fireflies were supposed to be, before he got stabbed by that bat and almost died and then Silver Lake. And then how thought everything was solved right after, and how it wasn’t, and then Salt Lake City happened. 

It’s a completely different world. From 2003, from just a couple years ago.

Now, Ellie’s here, in this big community. She’s in school. Living in a house. About as normal as one can get these days. 

But it’s not like it was when he had another young girl living with him. He misses that. He misses Ellie. 

But at least she has you. 

But he wishes it was him. At least, partly, him. 

But it’s not. 

He closes his eyes. 

—

“Joel!” Ellie cries out, violently ripping Joel out of sleep, and he’s instantly on his feet. When he hears your voice crying his name out, too, every cell in his body is in a panic, almost falling as he races down the stairs. What could have happened? Have Infected broken through the gates? Is someone attacking you? Did one, or both of you, get injured? Is he about to lose one of you? This place is supposed to be safe! 

When he finally sees you, he’s befuddled. 

You’re both smiling in the kitchen, bacon searing in a pan next to one of scrambled eggs. 

“We made breakfast!” You announce, both of you giggling. 

Joel swallows, standing at the bottom of the stairs. “Are y—is everythin’ alright?”

“Yeah, we just wanted to let you know that we made breakfast.”

Once the shock has worn off, anger bubbles up. He feels it register on his face, but tries his best to reel himself in, swallowing hard. You made him breakfast. You made breakfast for all three of you. That’s a very nice thing to do. All you were doing was waking him up. You weren’t trying to hurt him. You didn’t know how it would affect him, how it would nearly make his life flash before his eyes. That’s his problem, not yours. 

“Y—don’t—just, come wake me up next time.” He states, trying to keep a hold on his sternness. 

“Jeez,” Ellie raises her brows, “someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed. 

Joel sighs through his nose, looking at you, but all you do is shrug with a smile. He swallows. 

Suddenly, there’s a knock on the door, followed by a familiar voice. “Mornin’, just us.” Tommy calls out, he and his wife smiling back at a confused Joel when he opens the door. 

“I invited them for breakfast this morning, remember?” You say as you come up beside him, a hand instinctively rubbing his back. 

“Oh, I uh,” Joel glances between you and the couple at his door, “must’ve forgot. Come on in.”

“Forgetting a lot these days,” Ellie teases as she sets plates out on the table. Her tone is teasing, but Joel can’t help the tightening of his jaw at the reminder of his failures. When he flicks his eyes back up, he’s me with Tommy’s, and he knows he’s been caught red handed by the concern in them. He switches his gaze right back to the floor, making his way to a seat at the table. 

“Wow, look at this spread,” Maria comments, smoothing the cloth napkin under the silverware over her lap, a move that only makes Joel think again, what am I doing here? Cloth napkins alone are something that hadn’t crossed his mind in just about two decades. And despite Maria’s innocent move, paired with her eventual attempt to make him feel more welcome into the community, the resentment he feels for her hasn't quite let him go. So… civilized, so proper. Better than him.

“Well, make sure you serve yourself first, Joel likes to hog bacon.” Ellie returns as the five of you settle down at the table. 

“I do not,” he counters, tone mild, though slightly wounded. 

“Do to.” She raises her brows as she spoons eggs onto her plate, “You’re gonna need to get a bigger pair of pants soon, swear.”

To his dismay, you’re chuckling when he looks at you. And when he sees the obvious concern in his brother's eyes, he decides it might be best just to keep his head down. So, he hardly says anything at all, despite Tommy’s repeated attempts to bring him into the conversation. He’s busy arguing with himself in his head, still partly angry, but feeling guilty, too. He wants to be pissed. It was a rude awakening, but it was meant to be harmless. It makes him feel like he doesn’t belong here, like his head is still stuck out there outside of the walls. But he should still be on alert, nowhere is really safe, not even Jackson. What if you were hurt? What if something had happened? He needs to be ready. And you two were being reckless, calling wolf like that. But you were just trying to call him to breakfast. It was innocent. You’re both innocent. 

And then the fact that he forgot that Tommy and Maria were coming over this morning. He almost can’t believe himself. His mind, his sharpness, clarity, and memory, that he’d relied on for survival, is he losing it? Fucking senile. Fucking weak. Fucking stupid. Selfish, just by being here.

It goes around and around like that, and in the end, he can barely finish his food. Ellie’s earlier teasing doesn’t help, either. She’s right, he has gained some weight since arriving in Jackson, but who can blame him, after being close to starving so often? Well, Ellie can, apparently. 

But she means nothing by it, right? And you’re not laughing because you agree, right? 

“Hey,” Tommy startles him out of his spiral, cocking his head towards the kitchen when Joel looks up at him, “come help me with the dishes. Least we can do for these ladies making a whole meal for all of us.” 

Nodding, Joel gets up to help gather plates and follow his brother to the kitchen. Tommy stays quiet for a few moments as he wipes the plates that Joel washes, but he knows he’s in for a lecture sooner or later. 

“Joel.” He finally says, keeping his voice low with the help of the running faucet to keep the conversation quiet. “You gotta say something.”

“About what?” Joel mumbles, keeping his eyes focused on rinsing a soapy plate. He hears his brother sigh.

“You know what I’m talking about.”

“It’s fine, Tommy.” He nearly snaps back. 

His brother turns to him, “No, it ain’t.” When Joel doesn’t look up, he sighs again. “Look at me, Joel.” Finally he does. “It’s just not right.” Tommy shakes his head, tone both with genuine concern for his brother with a lilt of anger towards you and Ellie. When Joel notices it, he straightens, almost puffing out his chest. Holding himself back from shoving his finger in Tommy’s chest, he replies sternly, “Now don’t you go blaming them for my fuckin’... sensitivity—” 

“Stop, Joel.” Tommy takes a breath, taking the last clean plate from his hands and slowly drying it as he speaks. “It just hurts me. To see them treating you like that. And I know they don’t mean it like that, and I know that they don’t know. And that's why I’m tellin’ you, you have to speak up for yourself. Please, Joel, if not for your sake, then for mine, and for theirs.” He points his finger back towards the living room. 

Joel huffs, looking back down as the faucet runs over the clean plate. “I'll deal with it.” He says eventually. 

Tommy lets out his own huff, pausing. “Alright.” He replies quietly, pausing again before making his way back into the living room. After a moment of watching him go, Joel turns back to the sink, shutting off the tap and swiping up the towel to dry off his hands. “Can’t catch a fuckin’ break.” He mumbles to himself, thinking about what a wonderful way this is to start off his day.

—

This weekend, it’s the second Miller household’s turn to host game night, and after a very loud game of Uno, the five of you have settled down in the living room for a drink—except for Ellie, that is, who, like every time a bottle is opened around her, begged for a glass and rolled her eyes when she was told, no, you cannot have a glass of whiskey on the rocks. 

The brothers are stood chatting about the latest fixer upper with their elbows on the mantle while the girls are huddled up on the couch. 

“Figure we got about a month left.” Joel concludes, and Tommy nods in agreement, and then their attention is brought to a burst of giggles. It turns the corner of Joel’s lip up, and he inquires, “What so funny over there?” 

The giggles stop, and all three of your heads switch over to his question. 

“Private,” is all Ellie says, and you have to stifle a giggle. 

Having been told that twice now, Joel’s heart falls, but irritation quickly bubbles up. Flustered, his lip twitches, and he hardens his brow. 

“Ellie,” he starts, adjusting his arm on the mantle, voice sharp like the glass in his chest, “it’s rude to have a private conversation when we’re trying to all have family time here.”

“Jesus,” Ellie rolls his eyes, only piquing Joel further, “manners!”

“Manners—“ Joel starts, ready to set fire to the entire living room, wounded and now humiliated in front of his brother and his wife, but she interrupts him, “Yeah, manners, we’re over here trying to have a private conversation which you are interrupting. Goes both ways, old man. Don’t get all mad at me cause you’re still so un-domesticated.”

Her tone isn’t serious, but her words make him feel hollow. He shifts on his feet, torn between anger and shame, then glances at Tommy. His brows are upturned, his lips a thin line. Joel’s chest tightens, now frustrated and only further embarrassed at snapping. He hasn’t done that in a while. He’s trying. He’s trying to learn how to be calm. How to breathe. How to be polite. Keep his cool. 

But his lip twitches, and his mind goes blank. 

“Ellie, knock it off.” He nearly growls. Her eyes widen, brow raised. “Woah, there,” but then you cut in, softer voice almost pleading, “She’s just being a teenager, Joel.”

“Yeah,” he nods, “I know what teenagers are like. Doesn’t mean we have to put up with the bullshit.” 

“Joel—” Tommy tries. Joel turns to him, face scrunched, “Don’t Joel, me, Tommy. Am I the only one gettin’ fed up with this shit?”

“What shit?” Ellie cuts back in, face scrunched just the same. 

Joel takes a step forward, unable to stop himself. “The shit where you disrespect everyone who—” he pauses. Everyone who’s put their life on the line to put up with you, is what had tempted his tongue. Thank god his teeth had the instinct to bite his tongue when they did, because it would have been something that he didn’t mean, that he didn’t even believe. He glances around at every set of eyes turned to him, all looking like they’re bracing themselves. He falters, lets out a breath, then heads straight for the kitchen. “Fuckin’ bullshit.” Comes out under his breath.

Opening the fridge to set an ice cube that he doesn’t need into his near empty cup, he takes a breath, forcing it out through his nostrils. “The fuck is his problem?” He hears Ellie whisper from the other room, and that’s when the anger slips away to make room for the crushing guilt, and he finds himself unable to move, chest knotted and heavy.  

“Hey,” he hears quietly at his side, turning to see Maria leaning against the doorframe. 

Snapping back into reality, he closes his eyes and clenches his jaw, knowing ignoring her is unacceptable. He’s just not in the fucking mood.

“Hey.” His voice comes out gruff. 

She comes around to his side, forcing him to turn with his back towards the living room. She glances back at it, then lowers her voice. “Tommy talked to me about—“

“Course he did.” Joel grumbles, closing his eyes and swiping his hand over his forehead.

“Yeah,” Maria cuts back in, tilting her head with sharp eyes. Then, she closes them, bowing her head for a moment before coming back up with a forced, calm expression, a strategy he envies deeply. “He did,” she begins again, “because he cares. Therefore, I care. Ellie was rude. And I apologize for that.” Joel closes his eyes and shakes his head, but as soon as his mouth starts to form a rebuff, she cuts him off again. “Can you just let me finish, Joel?” She doesn’t wait for an answer, lowering her tone. “She is the one who doesn’t have manners, she’s the one who has never lived in a civilized community. Not like this. Not like the world before. Because of that, she also doesn't understand boundaries. So,” she sighs, tilting her head again, “being in the position you are, it’s your responsibility to teach her. She doesn’t know what she’s doing because she never learned. You have. You’re a good man, and a strong man.” Joel is taken aback by her words, not expecting a compliment from her, especially not paired with the earnestness in her eyes. “You deserve kindness and respect. Not to say you need to discipline her, just… let her know. How you’re feeling. That she’s hurting you.”

Joel is so tired of saying he’s fine when he isn’t so many times in the last week that he decides to just keep his mouth shut for a moment. After a moment, he nods, staring down at the dregs of gold left in his glass. 

“Thank you.” He eventually mumbles. 

“You're welcome.” She returns with a tight lipped but genuine smile. Then, she pats his arm, and walks back to the living room, announcing, “Hate to be the one to say it, but it’s bedtime.”

As they bid their goodnights, Joel is almost absent, besides the feeling of tension in the air like static whenever Ellie nears him. 

In his head, there’s shame, first and foremost—for snapping at Ellie, to have a problem that Tommy had to talk to his wife about. For not seeing what Maria saw, too wrapped up in his head to see the bigger picture; by letting her down, again.

But there’s something on his mind, too. An idea of how to fix it. Having his head grabbed and forced to look through the lens of being responsible, not just a victim, flicks a switch in his head. The first occurrence of a drive to actually talk to her about it. Now, it’s for her. He can do that. Because he’ll do anything for her. 

—

The next night, Joel pauses in front of Ellie’s door, careful to stay out of the line of light coming from her bedside lamp. He raps his knuckles softly on the door, “Hey, you got a sec?”

“Yeah,” Ellie calls back, followed by the soft thwap of a closing book, “come in.” 

His steps are hesitant, almost awkward as he makes his way to the bed, permissed to sit when she brings her legs up to fold under her. 

“Listen, baby girl,” Joel starts, eyes on the floor as memories of talks with Sarah that always start with that very phrase. “I gotta talk to you about something.”

“Mhm?” She nods, innocence in her eyes that make his gaze land straight back on the floor. 

“We just… uh, boundaries.” He attempts at purpose in his voice. “You gotta understand, when, uh, y’know, you can’t just go around teasing people all the time.”

“I don’t tease everyone, I just tease y—“

“Yeah, I know. But you can’t make that a habit, alright? It can hurt people's feelings, sometimes.” 

This is the best Joel can do, unable to openly speak on how he feels, tell her that she’s hurt him. But Ellie won’t let him off that easily, her tone softening, sounding almost like she’s just a kid, which she is, but barely ever shows. “I hurt your feelings?” 

It comes out so small, fidgeting with her fraying sleeve, and that’s what he focuses his eyes on, afraid that if he meets hers, he’ll freeze at the sight. That he’ll see guilt. But he has a purpose. He can’t let himself trip. 

The words pauses and strains in his throat a couple times before he can manage them out. “Yeah, sometimes.”

There’s a pause. 

“I’m sorry.”

“I know kiddo, I,” he pauses to sigh as guilt washes through his chest, I deserve it ringing in his head, but then he thinks back to Maria’s words. Then, it hits him. Ellie also needs to learn how to speak up for herself. To know that when someone hurts her feelings, she should confront them—using her words instead of her fists—and that she shouldn’t feel sorry for doing so. “It’s alright, I know you’re not trying to be mean. And I—“ he stops himself again, fidgeting his fingers as he lets the shame pass through and out of him before he speaks again. “Sometimes, I…” he nods, like a nervous tick, eyes safely on the floor as he forces the admission. “I struggle. And I know you know that. And I’m sure it’s been hard on you, too, Jackson… it’s a big adjustment. Haven’t seen anything like this in a long, long time. Having all these people around—friendly people. Sit down meals with real portion sizes. And just… a home. And I love it, I do. But, uh, it’s just… I’m not used to… being… settled down. I’m used to runnin’. Used to fightin’. I startle easy, honey. And sure I shove food in me. And I am getting’ older… but…”

“Takes a lot to get to 58.”

He looks at her then, pausing, then nods. “Yeah. Yeah it does.”

“I know I’ve never actually said it, but… I respect you. Really.” She nods. 

After a long moment, processing and recovering from that unanticipated sentiment, Joel nods back. “Now, listen—“ he starts, leaning his elbows on his knees, “I’m not asking you to say yes sir no sir, just… cut me some slack, sometimes. Alright?” 

Pretending to think on it, Ellie rolls her eyes around the ceiling with a frown before looking back at him and nodding, a small smirk spreading across her face, making Joel’s lips tug up almost automatically. “I think I can manage that.” 

“Now look, I,” he waves his hand out, “I don’t want this to be, you know, like you can’t have fun, I like you talkin’ and messin’ around. Highlight of my day. Sometimes.” He shrugs lightly, getting a small chuckle out of her. “I just… would be nice to… be included.” He nods at her, chest tightening at the vulnerability. “Y’know?”

“Yeah. I get that. How about we just team up on your girlfriend?” She smirks. 

Joel shakes his head, chuckling. “Or maybe we’ll just team up on you.”

“Psh. As if you could cut through this thick skin of mine. Do you have any idea what kind of zoo FEDRA school was?” She laughs, brow raised. 

“And I’m sure you gave ‘em hell.”

“Well… towards the end, yeah.” 

“So you toughened up, huh? Weren’t born like this?”

“Well…” she shrugs. “Not really.” Ellie looks down, tracing spirals on her sheets. “I was real sensitive as a kid.” This makes Joel pause. He imagines her, younger, quiet, reserved, but not in a cagey way—soft. Soft enough to get picked on. He’s not quite sure what to say, but she breaks the silence. “So I get it. And I know it’s not… that bad, but… I don’t want you to think you’re anything less than my favorite person.” The edges of her lip tug up, peering up at him, and Joel’s heart aches, not in pain, but something else that he can’t quite put his finger on. For a moment, he’s frozen, but then he blinks, and retreats his gaze to the floor. “Well, that’s an honor.” He replies quietly. 

Ellie chuckles, even though it wasn’t a joke. “Well, you’re very welcome. Guess I shouldn’t call you old man anymore, so, what, just, Joel?” Her face twists up, making him chuckle at how unacceptable that seems to be. 

“Joel’s fine.” He smirks. 

“Ugh, that’s so boring. How about… cowboy? That’s not disrespectful, is it?”

Joel chuckles again, shaking his head. “No, I wouldn’t say so.” He smirks at her, “Kinda has a nice ring to it.”

“Right?” Ellie replies brightly, and the look on her face makes Joel feel like there was never anything wrong in the first place. He pauses on her smile, one rising to his lips at the sight. That’s my girl. 

After a moment of trying to memorize that smile, he sighs deeply, then pats her leg. “Alright, kiddo. Time for bed.”

“Yes, sir.” She replies, a smirk on her lips. He smirks back, rolling his eyes. 

A smile sticks to his lips as he walks back to his bedroom, relief flowing through him, and this time, after writing I love you on a sticky note to stick on your pillow, it’s not so hard to close his eyes and drift off to sleep. 

He did something, something a father does. He did right by her. Like he used to do right by Sarah. 

—

That relief didn’t even last to the morning. Instead, doubt ripped at him. Fear that he’d stepped too far, telling her that she’d hurt him. It’d been hard to meet her eyes all day, afraid to see guilt in them, but she was out and about all day anyway, avoiding him, he assumed. 

He can’t stand the thought of losing you or Ellie, but isn’t he starting to already, even if it’s just in his head? He doesn’t feel anywhere near as close to either of you as he once did. Though you still have good times together, though there’s still plenty of love, and you’re still all very much a family, he feels like he’s drifting farther and farther away from it. Like he’s starting to just be looking in through a window, putting on a mask.

More than anything, he wants to keep his family. Desperately, he wants the closeness, the unity, the love. The family. Not just the household, the family. 

He loves the two of you like he’s loved no one else, not quite like this. With the world the way it is, it’s a different breed of sacrifice than for the one he had before. And he needs the two of you to know that, how much he loves you. But he wants to feel loved, too.

With that last realization, something snaps inside Joel. 

I want to feel loved, too. He almost whispers the thought out loud, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes as the tears slip out. Though he’s alone in his room, both you and Ellie are home, and he can’t let himself get caught crying. He sniffles and looks back up, staring into the dark of the night through the window, but it only reminds him of how alone he feels, fueling more tears. It almost startles him, and he shut his eyes quickly—he’s still not a cryer. He must not have realized just how much he was hurting until now, recognizing that he doesn’t feel nearly as loved as he loves. 

You deserve to feel loved, comes a ghostly voice in his head, and it sounds like Sarah, and then he sees her, peering up at him like he should know this, because there’s her face looking at him with those big brown eyes and that light smile and all the love in it, and he clenches his teeth and tightens his body, quieting his shaking sobs. 

“Fuck.” He breathes out with a hiccup. “Get your shit together.” And he does try, taking a deep breath and looking at the ceiling, but the tears keep coming, beading at his chin. 

Weakness. That’s what’s pouring from his eyes. He was weak, and that’s why Sarah died. He was weak, and that’s why Ellie ended up unconscious in that hospital in the first place. 

Too deaf and too slow. 

Even when he was two decades younger, he failed. 

All he does is let them down. 

And look at him now, crying, because he can’t, he can’t tell you the truth, because he’s a coward, and he’s weak. 

“Fuck,” heaves out of him as he presses the heels of his hands in his eyes, until it hurts, until he’s seeing stars, and his teeth hurt from the clench of his jaw. 

He deserves it. But he’s still hurting them. Everything he does is wrong, even when every instinct in him says it’s right. 

I let you down, I let you down, he tells Sarah, he tells Tommy, he tells Ellie, he tells you. 

That’s who he is. At his core, he’s a disappointment. No matter how hard he tries—

“Hey,” he hears you at the door, and quickly tries to compose himself, almost slapping his face to wipe the wetness off of it with a quick sniffle. “Hey,” he responds, glancing at you, then planting his gaze on the floor, heart starting to race, being caught red handed again. Immediately, you’re at his side on the bed, but he keeps his gaze turned away, trying but failing to be inconspicuous. But your presence alone in the moment is enough to sprout more tears from his eyes, not from guilt but just from that thing you do to him, making him feel safe enough to be honest, vulnerable. To cry. And then your thumb is on his cheek, brushing the tears away. He clears his throat, still turning away, but he knows he can’t hide now.

“What’s wrong?” Concern drips from your gentle voice, and he squeezes his eyes shut.

“Nothin’, I’m alright.” He clears his throat again, though shame starts to boil him, from the crying, and now the lying.

“No, you’re not.”

He sighs through his nose.

“You’re a shit lair.” You try to jest, but it’s just another knife in his chest. Back in the most gentle of tones, you sound almost like you’re begging, “Joel, tell me.”

He swallows thickly, eyes still on the floor. “I don’t know, it’s just, uh,” he tries to clear his throat again, but his face falls, brow drawing up as more tears streak his cheeks. 

“Joel, Joel,” you reply instantly, pulling his face to meet your eyes, and he watches your face fall like a ball of lead when you see his pain, then begging him in a whisper, “please, tell me what’s going on.” 

It pushes the confession out of him. “I—I don’t wanna make you feel bad, but I just, I just,” he huffs a sigh, “I just feel like the three of us, aren’t as close as we used to be. With—with Ellie, I know that we were on the road, so, we kinda had to be, and with you, ya know… I don’t know. Things have just, changed, and uh,” his voice breaks, but he tries to regain control with a shaky breath, turning his gaze to the floor. “Jackson is a good place, for Ellie, and for you, for all of us, and you and Ellie are close, and that’s good, it’s good. I don’t wanna be ungrateful, I don’t—” you, sensing his back turning on his own feelings, urge him again, voice gentle as a petal, “Joel, tell me.”

He pauses, looking back at you, then confesses, “I just feel like I’m, not who I used to be, to you two.”

You’re visibly taken aback, brow drawing up. “What do you mean?” You nearly whisper. 

He closes his eyes, lip starting to wobble. “E—Ellie talks to you, and that’s good,” he nods, “it’s good, it’s, great, but uh… she doesn't talk to me like that, and uh, I used t’, I used to have… those conversations, with Sarah” Joel’s head drops as soon as her name leaves his lips, and your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him immediately to your chest. His heavy hand slides up your side, holding you halfheartedly. There’s the sorrow and shame and pain, but feeling your body against his offers some comfort. It’s followed closely by more sorrow, now allowed, and the words continue to fall out. “An’ uh, you an’—an’ I, I dunno, it’s just, changed, an’, like I said, it’s good you’re close to Ellie, it’s my favorite thing to see, but, but I—”

Before he can finish, you bring him to face you again, cupping his cheeks with your thumbs brushing over the wet streaks, eyes full of sincerity. “I love you.” 

Joel closes his eyes, nodding again, leaning into your touch. “I know, I know you do.” He looks at you again, “An’ I love you, too, an’ I need you to know that, an’ that’s why I, I haven’t said anythin’, but I… I don’t want you to feel bad,” he shakes his head, “I—” he stops himself abruptly, sighing deeply and shaking his head again. “Nevermind. Forget it. I’m bein’ a child.” Joel stands up, on his way to retreating straight through the front door and into the cold night, but your grip on his arm surprises him. 

“Joel.” When he looks at you, you pause, expression dripping with sympathy, but the first emotion that comes out of him is disgust.

“Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you pity me.” He answers immediately, pulling his arm away and looking at the ground. “You know I can’t stand that shit. Doesn’t even fuckin’ matter. It’s nothin’. Just… lost my… composure. It’s fine. It’s nothin’.” He goes to leave again, but is caught just the same, this time you coming to your feet to pull his arm. 

“No, it is not, Joel. You don’t get like this if it’s nothing.” You tug his arm again, trying to take his attention. When he looks at you again, he pauses at the pleading in your eyes. “Joel.” You whisper, “Tell me.”

He swallows thickly, and reluctantly comes back to sit on the bed. 

It’s another sharp battle in his mind as he does, the familiar self hatred, but now there’s the guilt of shutting down with you. There have been many conversations, and a promise made. He can’t break it. He can’t break your trust again. So, he speaks, though the words feel thorny in his throat. “I love you. I love seein’ you happy. More than anythin’ I love seein’ you and Ellie happy. You two are everythin’ to me. I want you, always. Life would be nothin’ without you, and without Ellie, and I jus’—I jus’ want you two to be happy,” his voice breaks again, “and that’s why I—I didn’t want to say anythin’, I don’t want to ruin your fun, y—you can joke around, I want you to, even if it’s at my expense I—I just kinda wish I was… included.” Pain lilts his last word. Suddenly feeling childish again, he drops his head. “I shouldn’t be whinin’.” He shakes his head. 

“Joel—”

“You’re right, anyway, I’m old, an’ fuckin’ sensitive,” the sourness of the word is obvious in his voice and on his face, “I’m weak an’ everythin’ you two say is true, I,”

“Joel—”

“It’s true, and I shouldn’t be gettin’ this worked up about jus’ some jokes, I’ve just gotten fuckin’ soft,”

“Joel—”

“I’ve jus’ been lettin’ myself go, I guess, I fuckin’ deserve it, shit, I deserve much worse, for all the shit I’ve done,”

“Joel.” Your forceful tone breaks him out of his rant. “No. You don’t, and I’m sorry—”

He hangs his head, “No, I—”

“Joel.” You move his head to look at you again, “no, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize, and I should have—you’re not weak, and you don’t deserve us making fun of you. I just didn’t see it, and that’s my fault, we were being mean,” Joel tries to protest, but you speak over him, “we were, you’re just so damn good at hiding how you feel, and I just wasn’t paying attention. And that’s my fault. And I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be giving you such a hard time all the time. And that is not what I meant by saying you’re sensitive. That is not a bad thing, Joel.” You sigh, looking into his eyes with yours full of love. “Sensitive doesn't mean weak. It’s humanity. I love that you can be soft. And that’s not a small ask. You are not a bad person. With what the world is now, there are plenty of people who have done much worse. Joel, you still have a heart, and it’s full, and you’re giving, you’re self sacrificing, Jesus, Joel, you’ll do anything for people you love. And yeah, it gets messy, but it’s love. You have been through so much. But you still have your heart. And I love it more than anything, Joel. More than anything. I love you,” you pause to kiss his forehead, “I love you to pieces, Joel, I adore you, and I want you to know that. And I haven’t been showing that. And that’s my fault. None of this is on you, love.”

“I just want you two to be happy…” Joel whispers, looking into your eyes.

“We want you to be happy, too.”

“I just don’t wanna ruin your fun—”

Ellie’s voice interrupts, “We want you to have fun, too, Joel.” You both snap your heads to her standing in the doorway, looking almost small, fingers brushing the edge of the door she’s cracked open. 

“Ellie…” Joel hangs his head, voice dripping with shame. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

She comes almost charging in, sitting at Joel’s other side to wrap her arms around his shoulders. He leans into it immediately, turning to wrap his arms right back around her. She buries her face into the crook of his neck, and he holds her tighter, sighing shakily. “I’m sorry, baby girl.”

“No, I’m sorry.” She says, muffled into his shoulder. Then, she whispers, “I just didn’t know. Thought you just knew that you were the shit.” This gets a small chuckle out of him, warmth filling his chest as he holds onto her, her small arms wrapped around his shoulders. She buries her face further into the crook of his neck, and Joel sighs deeply, knowing that Ellie is the most precious thing on this planet. 

After a moment more in the embrace, they pull away slowly. Joel looks at the floor, sighing, and smooths his hand over you and Ellie’s knees. 

“I love you two more than anythin’.”

“And we love you, too.”

Joel sighs. “I know.”

“Not enough, though.” You tell him, folding your hand into his and squeezing it. “Like Ellie said, you're the fucking shit.” You smile, though there’s still the upturn between your brows and wetness in your lashes. “And you deserve to be shown that.”

Joel sighs, looking back at the floor. “I don’t want this t’… mess everything’ up, I want you guys to have your fun,”

“Oh, we can’t stop having fun.” Ellie smiles, “But it’s not fun without you.” Joel smiles back with a small chuckle, squeezing her knee. She puts her head on his shoulder and sighs. “We love you, Joel.”

“I know. An’ I love you, too.”

A silence falls, a blanket of calmness, but it feels warmer than ever. Though he broke down in front of both you and Ellie, he’s relieved that he did. Honesty is freeing. It’s all out on the table, and the only thing he got out of it was love. No anger, no shaming, but kindness, care. Love. 

As he sits, a contented smile raises to his lips. He feels the warmth of his family. He sighs. His family.

—

Coming home from his last late night shift of the week, a tired Joel stamps his snowy boots on the mat inside the door, breathing out a relieved sigh. The house has felt warmer ever since the heart-to-heart the other night.

“He’s gonna love it.” Comes your voice from upstairs, raising his curiosity, so he hangs his jacket and starts for the stairs. 

“I hope so.” Is Ellie’s quiet reply, but he can still tell it’s coming from his room. 

When he walks in, you flip your heads around, Ellie’s hands on a frame being hung on the wall across from him. 

“Hey.” He says, confused.

You turn to him with a smile, “Welcome home, Joel. Ellie has a surprise for you.” Ellie attempts to smile, but is obviously shy. She finishes hanging the large frame and steps back, eyes staying on Joel. 

Instantly, he can recognize what it is, and his breath hitches. On the wall is a pencil sketched portrait of him. Almost in shock, he walks closer. The likeness is amazing, but still with the penciled brush of her distinctive style. “Damn, Ellie.” He says quietly, trying to keep composed. “This is amazing, sweetheart.” 

“That’s what I said.” You say, a smile in your voice. “I guess she’s so used to seeing your face so much she’s pretty much memorized it.”

That hits home. 

“Thanks.” Ellie replies, still shy. He glances at her, then pulls her close to his side as he looks back at the drawing, unable to keep his eyes off of it. 

“When did you…”

“It took a few days.”

“Ellie…” tears start to well up in his eyes, so he clears his throat. “Damn.” He sniffles. 

“I’m glad you like it.” She replies, face squished against him with her arms wrapped around his middle. 

“I love, baby girl, I love it. I love it.” He kisses her head, squeezing her tighter. After another moment of staring at the piece, he looks down at her, met with a smile, and he chuckles at the remaining shyness, tickled at the idea that she should be anything other than extremely pleased with herself. This little girl is talented. “Thank you.”

“You're welcome.” She replies, smile widening. 

He looks back at you then, at the smile on your face, pride in Ellie, adoration at the moment he’s sharing with her. “C’mere.” He says, offering his other arm out, and you oblige almost with haste, laying your head on his shoulder with his arm around your waist. 

“It really is amazing, Ellie.” You tell her. 

“Took me a few days, and a lot of erasing, and swearing, but I think it turned out alright.”

“Alright,” Joel chuckles, “Ellie, I—” when his eyes find the ghosted outline of that scar hidden in his hairline, he can’t finish his sentence, the start of a sob catching in his throat. He sniffles and sighs, rubbing her arm. “Damn. Means the world to me, Ellie.”

“Well, you mean the world to me.”

He looks down at her again, but all she does is press her cheek into his side. He half chuckles, half sniffles again, chest full to the brim with gratitude and joy and love. The feeling of being loved. 

You both love him, and he knows it, he does, but it’s been foggy. But this gift from Ellie, knowing how hard she worked on it, and that she didn’t even need a reference, she just knows his face, is just something else. 

He can get in his head about things, you’ve helped him to realize that, but he hasn’t quite gotten the hang of getting out of it. 

But this does. He sees his graphite reflection, coming from Ellie’s loving little hands. He’s important. He means something. His purpose and meaning is love, it’s family, it’s you and Ellie and Tommy. 

And everything everyone has done to try to help him see it. Tommy’s urging, Maria’s wisdom, your care and concern, and Ellie’s work. 

Reflecting on it, the love becomes more and more clear. 

All the smiles he sees from you Ellie, her first impulse still to laze on him in the couch, the touches and kisses from you as natural as the air itself. Tommy, able to read him like a book, nearly begging him to stand up for himself, because Tommy thinks he deserves better. Maria stepping in, not to scold, but to empathize. Your immediate amends, the tugging of his arm. Pulled in by the ones he loves every day. 

Whether he thinks he deserves it or not, the most important people do. And he has it. It would be foolish to push it away. And he just doesn’t need to anymore. He has his home here. And he wants it more than anything. And he’s earned it. So he’ll take it. In Jackson, what else is there to do but live in this love?

In his graphite reflection, he sees the love that belongs to him, and feels the warmth of it at his sides. 

[tiredfox64]

I have a request, I don't know if you already written one or similar but can you write about how Bihan and reader have been friends since they were kids and the reader is one of the few that Bihan would actually listen to, over time as they get older both of them start to see each other in a different way but couldn't admit it to each other until one night the reader has a dream involving being romantic with Bihan (NSFW if you want to) wakes up in shock and avoids Bihan out of fear that her feelings would be discovered and get rejected. Bihan notices this and tries to find out why and follows the reader who went on a mission for Liu Kang to gather champions and to understand why the reader has been distant.

Soo sorry if this is long, it was an idea popped into my head and I enjoy your writings on the Lin Kuei brothers.

Ruin Our Friendship

Yip Notes: No need to apologize! Dreams are crazy tbh. I had a dream a few days ago where I constantly told Shang Tsung I hate him but I love him and that he was my pookie. It was wack.

Pairing: Bi-Han x Afab reader

Warnings: None I promise

Since you were born, you and Bi-Han have been side by side. His family and yours have been close for many years. It was no shock that you and Bi-Han would become friends by default.

You saw the best out of Bi-Han. You watched him better his cyromancy abilities. You were there when he became an older brother to Kuai Liang and Tomas. Though you did have to scold him multiple times to be nicer Tomas.

You were with him all throughout his life, watching every success and failure. In return, he was there for you. Even as his personality changed he was still the same boy you grew up with. A little bit colder and a little bit stronger but he was still a sweetheart in your eyes. He just doesn’t want you saying that in front of his clan since he is the grandmaster now. He has a reputation to keep up, ya know. He has to stay tough and fierce. But for you, he can loosen up a little.

Yes, your relationship with Bi-Han is strong. But it could be stronger. Much, much stronger. You could have a bond that not even the elder gods could break. A bond that Bi-Han would never allow anyone to disrupt it. You feel it and Bi-Han feels it. There is something there that you’ve noticed for a long time.

You thought this feeling was stupid, teenage hormones. As the years went on and on those teenage hormones became young adult hormones. Wait, those aren’t real. Admit it, you have feelings for your best friend. You’ve had feelings for a long time. For as long as you stay near Bi-Han those feelings will be nibbling at your insides like hookworms. Ignoring them or passing them off as something silly won’t get rid of them. You have to face the music one way or another.

The music will be a blast to the face.

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

You toss and turn in your bed. Your mind was like a blaring horn. It wouldn’t shut up about Bi-Han.

Recently you’ve been noticing much more about Bi-Han. Mainly his physique. He sure turned into a fine, strong, and powerful man. Compared to everyone else in the Lin Kuei he was well-built. He had a body that could only be described as a masterpiece. He looked like he was carved by the hands of the greatest sculptors in history. His body type could only be found in grand museums. And oh that face, good heavens that face. An art piece right there. A well-sculptured face, well-trimmed eyebrows, dark chocolate eyes, and a perfect nose.

Woah alright! Your mind is winning too much. You have to sleep now or else you’ll be up all night thinking about Bi-Han.

You tried with all your might to fall asleep and luckily you did. Your body started to relax and your mind quieted down. You thought you would be free from the grasp of your feelings but you were wrong. Your emotions always find their way into your dreams.

════ ⋆☁️⋆ ════

In a haze all you could see was Bi-Han. Everything you felt was because of Bi-Han. His arms wrapped around you in a cold embrace. Your head rested on his chest and listened to his calming heartbeat. His head rested on top of your head. In that moment you felt safe. There was no reason for you to hold back. You embraced him. Your breathing picked up as your heart began to feel many things. It felt warm, it felt tingly, it felt like it was fluttering, it felt right. It felt like…love. You were in love, your dreams were your confirmation.

The dream progressed with Bi-Han bringing his hands up to your face. He made you stare into his dark eyes before closing them. He leaned in close, very close. His lips lightly touched your lips and you felt his cold breath hit them. You leaned in with your lips slightly parted. The kiss felt so real. The idea that this was all a dream was unrealistic now. The kiss grew more desperate and somewhat rough. It was passionate, it was loving. Your hands went up to hold his perfect face. He felt so real.

And then…

════ ⋆☁️⋆ ════

“Bi-Han!” You shot up from your bed.

Your heart was beating fast. You strained your muscles from moving so quickly from laying down to sitting up. You were even slightly dizzy.

This can’t be happening to you. You’re so madly in love with Bi-Han. You don’t want to be in love. You’re afraid. It’s reasonable to be afraid.

You’ve never seen Bi-Han with another girl. Never once went on a date or accepted his father’s suggestions on finding a bride. It got to the point that he vented to you about his frustrations on his father’s request. That was the moment you suspected he may never want to date someone. Which was fine at the time but now it’s different. Now you’re a desperate fool who’s in love.

Bi-Han can’t know about this. This could ruin a friendship that has lasted a lifetime. The idea of that crushes you. Going on without your best friend is the same as going on without the other half of your body. As much as you fear that he will find out and leave you, you fear that he will stay but reject you.

Rejection hurts like a rose thorn except you are unsure if you can remove the thorn. The thorn could stay for a few months or the rest of your adult life. Do you really want to take that risk and find out how long you could endure the pain? No, you don’t.

You’re only a girl, well, woman actually. But the point still stands about how you are afraid of getting hurt. So what will you do to prevent things from getting awkward or you getting hurt? You will stay clear of Bi-Han. That’s a bold move but if it’s what you wish to do then you must keep it on the downlow. You know how suspicious Bi-Han can get. When it comes to you he will spot it from a mile away.

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

Well fuck my advice. You didn’t keep it on the downlow you kept it on the high ground.

Bi-Han noticed from the start that you were steering clear of him. You weren’t visiting even when he suggested that you come to practice for a little. He never heard back from you which made him think something fishy was going on. When he visited you he saw that you had your head down like you were ashamed about something. He didn’t say anything to your family members he made a beeline toward you.

“Is something the matter? You have not responded to any of my letters.”

He was walking close to you. You never realize how close he would get to you. That isn’t helping you right now. You couldn’t respond about his letters because you never looked at them. Every time a family member came around to pass you a letter from Bi-Han you would take it before storing it away.

“Oh, sorry. I don’t really…” You didn’t finish your sentence. The moment you saw a room you slipped inside to create distance from Bi-Han. You even locked the door for extra measures.

Bi-Han rarely gets mad at you but right now he is feeling a little ticked off. You are purposefully avoiding him and he can tell. You wish you didn’t have to but the moment you think about being honest with him your heart aches thinking about the possible consequences. It’s better if he doesn’t know. Once you get your emotions situated you will go back to him. For now, you are unable to.

Bi-Han was standing by the door, constantly knocking to the point your father had to go up to him and have him leave. He respects your dad but he wanted to tell him to back off. He hesitated and walked away. There had to be another way to get close to you and make you talk. He’ll have to figure that out for himself. If he asked for help many would get suspicious of him and his intentions.

Some days passed and an opportunity fell into his hands. Liu Kang told Bi-Han that he would need assistance when collecting his champions for the upcoming tournament. Bi-Han was unsure about providing help since he didn’t like being commanded by the fire god. That was until Liu Kang informed him that you would be helping. Immediately he switched up and said he would do it. You wouldn’t dare disobey Liu Kang so you won’t try to back out. Just for good measure, Bi-Han won’t let you know he is there until it’s too late.

The day came when you were supposed to see if Raiden and Kung Lao were ready. Liu Kang informed you to wait till they were done eating to begin the test. You noticed he was looking around like he was expecting someone else to come.

“Ah, Bi-Han, are you and your brothers ready?” Liu Kang shouted past your shoulder.

You froze up at the mention of Bi-Han. You swiftly turned around and saw him and his brothers standing there. You didn’t know they would be part of the test. Kuai Liang and Tomas were ready but Bi-Han seemed determined for something else. He was determined to call you out on your behavior.

You kept your cool and tried to slow your heartbeat. You all made your way to the tea house and you could feel Bi-Han’s eyes burning holes in the back of your head. Once you got there Liu Kang took his seat and you were all expected to hide till the Raiden and Kung Lao finished eating. Bi-Han had his brothers go their own way while he stayed with you. The moment his brothers walked away he grabbed your hand and forced you to come with him. You did your best to slow him down, even digging your heels into the ground but that did nothing. All it did was make grooves in the dirt.

Once you came to a spot to stay until the test started, he had you sit next to him. You expected him to say something but he didn’t. He was so silent that you couldn’t hear his breathing. His face was stone cold. He’s waiting for you to say something. You’re the one acting strange, not him. You’ll break eventually because he knows you can’t stand when it’s too quiet or he seems mad. But he’s always mad so the silence will be the thing that kills you.

The wind may have blown but no leaves rustled. Bugs were out but none buzzed, chirped, or hissed. Not even a squirrel came around to munch on an acorn. Seconds passed but to you it felt like centuries. This felt horrible.

“You’re upset with me, aren’t you?” You asked.

“I would not be mad if you would tell me what is going on with you.” Yeah, it’s you, not him.

“It’s nothing. I’ve been feeling off is all.”

“You are giving me an excuse. I want the answer.”

“Why do you need to know?” You ask as if he isn’t your best friend.

He didn’t respond. He was giving you the silent treatment to make you break. Yeah, it’s cruel but there isn’t any other choice. He could keep asking the same question over and over and you would keep giving him excuses. So the only tactic he could trust is silence. A long uncomfortable silence that will go on for seconds, minutes, possibly hours. You could keep talking but he will not respond in any way. No facial cues or words. You’re on your own.

Make a choice: Will you speak the truth or keep the silence going?

“I think I’ve fallen in love with you and I might have been in love with you for a long time.” And speak the truth you did.

You didn’t see Bi-Han’s face change from cold to slightly surprised. His eyebrows raised a little. You had your eyes shut tight like something bad would appear in front of you if you told the truth. You went on and on about when it started and everything you felt. You spoke about the dream in great detail which wasn’t necessary but it did amuse him. Now you wouldn’t shut up. You’re fine, he got the point. Have you gotten the point? No! Let Bi-Han help you.

You felt something grab at the front of your shirt before yanking you. Before you knew it you felt Bi-Han’s lips against yours. That dream of yours seemed to know how it would feel. You felt the cold breath against your lips and you felt how rough he was. Your eyes were wide open but his were closed. He pulled away after about thirty seconds and looked at you. He had a blank expression like he didn’t just kiss you.

“You never were truly direct in anything. You always gave excuses but never the answer. Was it truly that hard?” He asked but you were frozen.

Your brain was loading in the fact that Bi-Han, your best friend of many years, just kissed you. You pinched yourself just in case and yup, this was no dream. This is real life.

“I—You’re not mad? You’re fine with me having a crush on you?” You asked though this may not be a crush anymore.

“Is it really a crush if I make you my girlfriend right now?” He replied back.

“Well…no I guess.” You answered your question but now you have a million questions.

Let me help you out.

The reason Bi-Han was never interested in dating or taking his father’s suggestions was because he was only interested in you. When you started noticing how handsome Bi-Han was he started to notice how wonderful of a lady you have grown into. Your body matured and your beauty radiated like never before. Your personality didn’t change but evolved as you grew. You never became insufferable to him and you still were your old self. Even as you two were teens he knew he wanted you to be his lady for life. There was no competition, you were always the winner.

The reason he never approached you was because he’s not too good at that stuff. His brothers tried to help him and warned him that if he didn’t confess soon he would lose you to another man. He’s glad his brothers weren’t right because he would hate to admit that. Seems like he never needed to do all that fancy stuff and make an attempt to flirt. You two were made for each other. You both might have been soulmates from the start. Sounds pretty good to him. What about you?

Ah, you’re still in shock. Well at least the part where Bi-Han made you his girlfriend has set in. You just need to take in everything else that happened. Keep your mind sharp though you still have to do the test for Raiden and Kung Lao.

Bi-Han wouldn’t want his new girlfriend to be distracted and get hurt. That wouldn’t end well for anyone involved.

Yap notes: I did two fics today because I felt bad for not doing a request. I felt guilty and I don't like that feeling. But i felt okay once i put on summer playlists. I DON'T PRACTICE SANTERIA. I AIN'T GOT NO CRYSTAL BALL. Adiós!

[annwrites]

my lil' cherry pie

— pairing: billy hargrove x fem!reader

— type: ficlet

— summary: honestly, it's just a whole lotta fuckin' in this one

— tags: billy being extremely happy. billy having an idea involving the hood of his car. you & billy getting frisky in the shower.

— tw: sex, exhibitionism, bj, f receiving oral

— word count: 5,509

— a/n: i wish loverboy's lovin' every minute of it had come out a year earlier, bc billy would've 100% been blaring that in the camaro, too, after spending all morning in bed with reader lol.

i am also AWARE that bon jovi's slippery when wet didn't come out until '86, but i wanted to use that line in the shower scene, so it is what it is.

i'm not writing billy as some perfect casanova in the bedroom. i'm aware that's the fantasy with him, but he's still an eighteen-year-old boy. and i think it's actually sweet that he has a harder time lasting with reader in certain situations, bc he's just that turned on bc it's with her—his dream girl.

find my other posts concerning billy here

Billy grinds his hips down against your ass, unable to sink any deeper inside your soaking heat. “That feel good, honey?”

You whimper in response, nearly drooling on the pillow beneath you, which your cheek rests upon, your head turned toward the curtained window.  “Y-yes,” you say quietly, clenching around him.

“Mm, I bet.” He drawls out.

He slowly eases out and then back into you, and your eyes roll back at the feeling, slowly closing. You grip the sheets under you.

He removes one hand from gripping the mattress and instead grips your hip instead, circling his own. “You like that, sweetheart?”

You nod, burying your face in the pillow as he flexes his shoulder blades, gripping you harder.

“I can tell. God, you’re fucking soaked. I can hear just how wet you are.”

He wasn’t wrong. After last night—you not orgasming from penetration alone during your first time—he’d awoken shortly before dawn on a mission.

He’d woken you with hot kisses along your bare breasts, down your stomach, then back up to your lips. You’d been half-asleep when he’d eased inside of you, causing you to gasp in surprise.

You’d orgasmed the second time the two of you had sex the night before, but that’d only been due to him rubbing feverishly at your clit until you did so.

You think that maybe his manhood feels a bit threatened by it. So, he’d spent hours this morning inside of you, using everything he had, everything he knew, to make you cum from his cock alone.

While you enjoyed yourself, he treated it more like some training exercise. Learning the ins and out of your body. What made you tremble and shake with pleasure and what didn’t.

Your first ‘session’ had to be cut short because he’d gotten a cramp it was taking so long for you to reach a climax—you hadn’t even been close when he’d stopped.

You’d tried explaining to him that it was okay—you saw nothing wrong with only being able to come from clitoral stimulation alone, but he’d said that wasn’t good enough.

So, a few minutes later, he’d sat you in his lap, your back pressed to his chest and his cock between your legs once more. Halfway through, you’d reached down to begin playing with yourself, until he’d grabbed your hand, lightly smacking it. “Aa, none of that,” he’d chastised you.

That position had reached some new place inside of you, but still not quite right. So he’d laid down, gripping your hips, telling you to do whatever felt good. You’d bounced on his cock and it’d only taken him watching you do as much for a few minutes before he’d came himself. And loudly.

He’d needed to take another break after that.

The third time, he’d had the both of you lay down on your sides, him once again pressed up behind you, your left leg thrown over his hip as he gripped yours, fucking you fervently. He had pounded away inside of you, both of his hands eventually moving higher, grabbing your tits, squeezing, toying with your nipples, even sticking his fingers in your mouth, but you still didn’t cum.

And right now was his fourth attempt. You were so wet now that it was all over your thighs. His as well. You could hear it every time he eased his cock in and out—squelching. It made your face heat in embarrassment, even if he’d stressed how hot he found it to be. Teasing you about it earlier had not helped, however. Like when he had told you 'It's like a fuckin' slip and slide down here. At least I don't have to worry about pickin' up lube once we hit the road again.'.

He reaches down, spreading your left leg, until your knee is bent and he slips slowly out, then back in.

“Goddamn,” he mutters, his cock twitching inside of you.

You lay your cheek back against the pillow, panting lightly at just how relaxed you feel.

He runs his palm down your spine and your body trembles, you clenching around him again. You want so badly to reach between your legs. You’d been desperate to come hours ago, but unless it was from his cock and only that, he wouldn’t allow it.

He lowers himself closer to you. “C’mon, baby, I know you like this. Tell me what you need.”

Honestly, it all felt pretty good. Okay, really good. But no matter what he did, there just didn’t seem to be some magical spot inside of you that would bring you over the edge.

“I…dunno. Mm. Feels good, though.”

His brow twitches, back starting to hurt. “Believe me, I can tell just how good you feel. Just,” he grunts. “Tell me how to get you to cum all over my cock, doll.”

You snuggle the pillow under you, pushing your hips back against him. “My clit.”

He groans. “Anything else.”

You shrug slightly, now drooling. “Ah, Billy…”

He slips out of you and you pout quietly, until he flips you onto your back.

When you look up at him, the curls at his hairline are now damp and sticking to his forehead, a few drops of sweat beading there. He really was working hard at this.

“Alright, time to try something else,” he says lowly.

You spread your legs wide for him, gripping your breasts, tugging against your nipples and he takes himself in-hand, easing into you.

You sigh in satisfaction.

He then presses his right hand down on your lower stomach, applying pressure there.

He reaches up with his other hand, sticking two fingers in your mouth and you drool all over them, sucking, licking, nearly gagging yourself on them you’re so into it.

He turns his hips just the least bit to the left and you gasp, pulling his fingers out. “Ah, there.”

He looks up at you, stilling for only a moment, eyes wide—excited. “Yeah?”

You nod, shoving his fingers back in your mouth.

He keeps his body just like that—his cock positioned in that exact spot, and he begins to pound away inside of you.

It’s unlike anything you’ve ever felt before. You push his fingers back out, gripping his hand in both of yours—and hard—holding on for dear life as his tip continually teases and hits that most perfect part of you inside.

At first, it almost feels like your bladder is about to let loose, but God it feels so good. You thought everything else he’d done to you for the last few hours had been pleasurable? Wrong. This was pleasure.

You reach back, your palm planted flat against the headboard, your back arching, hips grinding down against his own, head thrown back. “Oh God, don’t stop. Please. Oh, Billy. Mm, yes, right there!”

He fucks you harder. “Oh, I’m not fucking stopping.”

He was worn out and his calf was cramping something fucking awful, his lower back needing a break, but this was what he’d spent all morning working toward. He couldn’t give in now.

“C’mon, darlin’, c’mon. Come on my cock, baby. That’s it. You’re so fucking close, I know it.”

You begin to clench rapidly around him and your eyes go wide as you take in shallow gasps of breath in anticipation as the feeling builds and builds and then…you scream. So hard you nearly choke yourself on calling out his name in ecstasy. “Billy! Yes! Oh God, yes! Ah!”

He begins to laugh, skin slapping against yours, groaning as he fills yet another condom to the brim, coming fucking hard. “Jesus Christ, baby,” he says as he finishes.

Finally, he collapses on top of you, the both of you heaving for breath, drenched in sweat, the sheets beneath you an utter mess. The room…smells of the both of you, to put it kindly. Sweat and cum and heat and something primitive. Sex. This was the smell of sex. Purely unadulterated.

He’s so weak, he can barely lift his head. So, he instead lies there, crushing you with his body weight, but having him covering you feels…nice. Secure. Safe, even.

You wrap one arm around his broad shoulders, your other hand smoothing back sweat-slick curls as you kiss the side of his head. A pulse still going strong between your legs.

He mutters into the mattress, his tone that of exhaustion. “So, you finally came that time?”

You giggle lightly. “Yes, I definitely did.”

“Good, because I don’t think I can take anymore. You’re fuckin’ insatiable. And I thought my sex-drive was bad.”

You burst out laughing. “Me? You’re the one who wouldn’t let it go.”

He buries his face in your shoulder. “Just like a woman to let a man do all the work without a word of thanks in return.”

You roll your eyes, then kiss the top of his head of messy hair. “Thank you, Billy.”

“You’re fuckin’ welcome.”

Currently, you and Billy are sitting in traffic at a red light while he blares the song Cherry Pie—so loudly it makes your eardrums hurt.

He gets especially into the lyrics when he bangs the palm of his hand against the wheel, his wide smile growing even larger, to the line ‘swingin’ to the bass in the back of my car!’.

A smile crawls onto your own face—he’d been like this all morning since you’d gotten out of bed—which you’re unsuccessful in hiding from him.

He gives you a toothy grin, sliding his hand up your thigh to the edge of your skirt, then under it, blowing you a kiss, even winking, and then you glance to the girls in the yellow convertible next to you, who seem to be admiring his ride. Him as well, clearly.

And you decide now is the moment to put everything that’s developed between the two of you to the test. You nod toward their car. “I think you have a couple of admirers!” You shout over the music.

He shrugs. “Do I?” He asks, shifting, turning back to the windshield, accelerating as he drives past them, never once looking in their direction.

When Billy stops for gas, he leaves you to fill the car while he goes inside to ‘get a pack of smokes’, but actually purchases another box of condoms, having used up all the rest of his—minus one—that morning.

When he returns to you, you’re just putting the nozzle back, and he comes up from behind you, squeezing you.

When you turn around, smiling warmly, he picks you up, spinning you around. You laugh, your hands holding onto his shoulders, looking down at his happy, smiling face. He finally lowers you back onto the ground, wrapping an arm around your waist, pressing your backside up against the pump as he kisses you long and deep.

When he pulls back, you grip the collar of his button-up shirt. “Someone’s in a good mood today.”

He nuzzles his nose against your neck and you giggle at the ticklish gesture. “I’m in a great fucking mood, baby.”

He walks around, opening your door for you and your heart melts. Had you finally, after all the fighting and running and pushing back against each other, reached a mutually happy place with one another?

You lower yourself inside and he leans down, kissing you again.

“Mhm,” he hums in approval, closing the door.

Once you reach Flagstaff, Billy has calmed. Minimally. He still occasionally blared his music—particularly when AC/DC’s You Shook Me All Night Long came on—and a selection of other music. He also had put his hands on you every chance he got—you were sure you had every line and callus memorized by now. And he’d told you a couple times how lucky he was. That he loved you.

He stressed how happy you made him.

You’d cried tears of joy at it all, in disbelief that he was finally treating you the way you’d always dreamed of being treated by another. You had truly thought just a couple days ago that you would never find love. Now? The love of your life sat right next to you.

Once the sky grew dark, Billy had pulled off into an empty lot, turning to you, head leaned back, hand once again slipping between your thighs. “Once the engine cools off a bit, I want to try something.”

You raised a brow, your hand sliding up his strong, tanned arm. “Oh?”

He’d nodded, leaning in toward you, slipping his hand into your panties, fingers playing with your clit.

He spent the next few minutes teasing you and toying with that sensitive bundle until you were soaking.

He pulls away. “So, not that I need to ask,” he says, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear. “But it’s safe to assume that you still want to see the West with me?”

You smile, nodding, looking at him adoringly.

He smirks. “I told you I always get what I want.”

You glance down to his hand, rolling your eyes.

And then he cups your cheek. “I meant you, baby. It was always you.”

Your brows furrow, eyes stinging, and then you kiss him again.

“Billy, if someone sees us doing this we could be arrested for…public indecency, or-”

He sighs. “Live a little, will you? C’mon, I’ve been dreaming about doing this since I had you in the driver’s seat. Alright, way before that. Like the first fuckin' day I put eyes on you.”

You look around the empty lot and jolt from nerves when you hear someone laying on their car horn off in the distance.

He reaches down to the hem of your dress with a raised brow, his own shirt already unbuttoned.

You sigh. “So help me, Billy Hargrove, if we both end up in jail-”

“Y’know what, putting you in cuffs at some point seems like a good idea, too, now that you mention it.”

You groan as he takes the rest of your clothes off.

Currently, you’re completely naked, laid back on the hood of Billy’s Camaro, your legs spread open, him standing between them. You watch as he unbuckles his belt, tossing it inside the car, and he then unbuttons and unzips his jeans, easing them, along with his briefs, down to his ankles, taking himself in his hand.

And then you sit up suddenly, hanging your head between your knees, groaning in irritation.

“What? Don’t tell me you don’t want to now. I've had enough of you given' me blue balls for the last week.”

You look up at him. He’d already gotten the two of you a room for the night at a local motel—recently opened, so for once you were to be staying in a nice place—so all your things were there. Including condoms. The only reason the two of you had gone back out was to get a bite to eat for dinner.

“We don’t have any protection.”

He swears, yanking his pants back up. “Fuck!”

He looks back to you, considering. “What if I use the pull-out method instead?”

You shift atop the hood. “Is that…does it always work? I mean, what is it, exactly?”

“I come anywhere but inside of you.”

“Have you done it before like that?” You ask, doubtful.

In truth, no, he hadn’t. He’d always used condoms. Always.

“First time for everything,” he says, looking at you from under his lashes, forehead creased, hands on his hips.

After a moment, you lay back down. “Okay.”

He positions himself between your legs again, dropping his pants. He leans over you, palm pressed against the hood of the car, his other hand guiding himself into you.

He grips both of your hips, gently fucking you, your feet planted on either side of the hood.

His eyes trail along your bare body and he grows impossibly harder. “God, you look so fucking hot right now. You’re perfect, honey.”

You scoot closer to him, trying to wrap your legs around his waist, so he grips you by your thighs, pounding away inside of you, skin slapping against skin, his breathing ragged as he watches your breasts bounce with each pump of him, your fingers clawing against the hood.

He angles his hips, trying to reach that spot inside of you that you both enjoy, and knows he’s found it when your eyes roll back, body slightly arching off the car.

He smirks, running his hands up your thighs, then back down, squeezing them. “Maybe I should see what my shifter looks like inside of you next.”

You clench around him, then look up at him with curious eyes.

He shrugs. “After you polish my knob first, maybe.”

You roll your eyes, whimpering. “You need help. Who even comes up with something like that?”

“Oh, you’re definitely helping me, sweetheart,” he says, thrusting into you again and again. “And you’d be surprised.”

You then wonder what it would be like: having him in your mouth. You’d not done that yet. Maybe an idea for when you get back to the room.

Your imagination toying with the thought gets cut short by a sudden boom of thunder overhead, lightning flashing not far from the two of you…and then it begins to downpour.

You try to shield your eyes from the sudden onslaught of rain, Billy essentially paying it no mind as he continues to work his body with yours in tandem.

You gasp and his head jerks up, smirking, thinking it’s from him, but it’s the cool droplets pelting against your hot skin, quickly cooling you.

“Now you’re really wet,” he calls over the sound of rain pounding against the car, laughing.

You begin to shiver. “A-are you almost done yet?”

He raises a brow. “Me? What about you?” He angles his hips yet again and you curse, saying his name.

“We’re not leaving until we’ve both come, sweetheart, so we might be here for awhile!” He moves his hand to your clit, his thumb beginning to rub fast circles.

You wrap your arms around yourself, the only part of you that now feels warm being that which is between your legs.

“Can’t we just go back and I try what you said instead?”

“What’s that?”

“You in my mouth?”

He stares at you for just a moment, then quickly pulls out, moaning as he finishes all over your stomach at the thought, the rain washing it off of you.

“So…how do we uh…”

He lifts your chin with his finger, putting your eyes on his instead of on his erection.

“Well, you’ll be on your knees either way,” he says quietly. “But I don’t know which would be easier for you: me sitting or standing.”

“Which would you prefer?” You ask nervously.

He’d just fucked you on the hood of his car right out in the open in the middle of a thunderstorm and now you were nervous?

He decides sitting would be the better option. You’d not done this before and if it took you awhile—which it likely would—he didn’t want to interrupt things because his legs were tired.

He sits on the edge of the bed, the mattress dipping in the middle from his weight, and you settle onto your knees in front of him, taking him in your hand.

He knows just from the sight of you like this alone, he won’t last long.

He’d thought before that he had pretty good stamina when it came to sex. But with you… Jesus, had it shortened.

You look at him with wide eyes, stroking like you’d done the other night. “Does that feel good?”

He quickly nods, throwing his head back, closing his eyes. “Yeah, honey, that feels good.”

You study it for a moment, then decide to just go for it. You lower your mouth onto his length and his eyes shoot open, hips bucking, causing you to gag as he hits the back of your throat.

You pull back, licking your lips. “Did I do something wrong?”

He runs one of his hands through his hair, worrying about coming all over you already. “No, just…try again. It was good, sweetheart.”

You lower your mouth onto him again and he curls his toes, fisting the comforter underneath him, holding on with everything he has, trying not to…not to…

You begin to bob your head, gently sucking, swirling your tongue around him, not really sure what you’re doing, but giving it your best shot either way. You rest your palms atop his thighs, then pull back, him slipping out of your mouth and you stroke him again as you take a breath, then swallow the length of him again.

“Fuck,” he curses, reaching up, gripping your hair, making a ponytail with both of his hands, holding it out of the way as he watches you.

“Oh God,” he mutters and before you can ask what’s wrong, you feel him shooting into the back of your throat.

You gag at the unusual feeling, pulling away, cum dribbling off of your chin.

You look up to him, silent for a moment, then, “That…was…” Fast? You don’t think you should say that, however.

He stares down at you, mortified. “What?” He asks, tone unreadable.

You need to give him a reassuring answer. You smile softly. “Different. I liked it. Did…did you? I mean, did I do okay?”

He could nearly cry from relief. You had no idea that he’d prematurely… He couldn’t even think of it.

He lays back on the bed, reaching toward the nightstand, pulling a number of tissues out of the box which sits on it and his hips jerk when he feels you suddenly take him in your hand again.

He sits up, wiping your face. “You were incredible, doll.”

You smile.

And he’d been worried that you would take too long, not that he wouldn’t able to last.

He lays back again, shaking his head.

Billy had excused himself to the bathroom for a moment afterward and you'd sat quietly on the bed, patiently waiting for him. He may've been your first in everything—minus kissing; you'd done that with a boy you couldn't remember the name of now, when you were seven on the playground—but you knew finishing that quickly wasn't...the norm. Not for him, at least.

If anything, though, it made you feel flattered. He'd enjoyed the sight of you like that in front of him—the feel of himself in your mouth—so much that he hadn't been able to hold back, or exercise practically any kind of self-control to last even a moment longer.

When he emerges, you speak. "Do you want to take a shower together?"

He smirks, mood lightening, embarrassment waning. "You don't have to ask me twice, darlin'."

"It's in my eyes!" You holler, wiping suds away from your face, the chemical taste also getting in your mouth.

Billy curses, grabbing your shoulders, holding you directly under the shower head, erection pressed firmly into the small of your back.

You'd been busy trying to wash your hair when you'd felt his hand slipping between your legs, fingers easing inside of you and next thing you knew, you were being blinded by a bit of Finesse.

You keep your eyes squeezed shut as his fingers work diligently against your scalp, getting all the soap out.

He then turns you around to face him. "Alright, open."

You slowly blink up at him, then scowl. "Don't ever do that again."

He shrugs, shampooing his own hair then. "Just thought your bush needed a little extra attention with the shampoo, too."

You glance down, crossing your arms, looking back up to him. "You're one to talk."

He smirks. "Never said I didn't like it."

You cock your head to the side, then smile up at him.

He raises a brow in interest.

And then you pinch one of his nipples.

He reaches up, pressing his palm overtop of it. "Ow! The fuck did you do that for?"

You smirk. "Just a bit of payback for all the times you yanked on my hair in class."

He leans down toward you then, causing your back to bump against the shower wall. He slips one hand down your waist, grabbing one of your asscheeks. "Now there's an idea. You want me to pull your hair, honey? I always wondered what it'd feel like wrapped around my fist."

You nearly make a joke, asking just how long he'd last that time, but don't want to hurt him.

He presses a kiss to your neck, then whispers, "Maybe I'll let you yank on mine, too, next time I have my head between your legs."

You take him in your hand, then, and he sucks in a sharp breath, watching as you get on your knees.

You look up at him. "Why don't we just start now?"

You swallow the length of him and he slaps one of his hands against the wet shower wall, cursing.

He reaches down, winding your long hair around one of his fists, vowing to last longer this time. He gently pushes further into your mouth, pulling against your hair, biting his lip.

You stare up, drooling all over him just a bit, then suck, pulling your mouth away with a 'pop', stroking him.

He closes his eyes, brows furrowed, using every ounce of strength he has in him not to come all over your face right now.

You ease back down onto him again, cupping the bottom of his shaft with your tongue and you gag when his hips jerk, sending him deeper. You pull back for a moment, taking a breath, then going back in.

Billy stares up at the ceiling, fist iron-tight around your hair. Looking at you is not a good idea at the moment. But the fucking sounds you're making aren't helping in the least, either. Gagging and sucking and—fuck—you keep doing this thing with your tongue that no girl has ever done before. How the hell are you so good at this?

You're not afraid to get messy, that much is clear. Then again, being already in the shower will make clean-up that much easier.

He prays to God the hot water doesn't run out anytime soon.

You hollow your cheeks, sucking harder then and he groans, saying your name, cock twitching in the back of your throat.

You wonder if you're doing alright, if he likes it—you still having not much of an idea of what to do—but from the way his entire body is tensed up, you take it as a sign that you're onto something.

You swirl your tongue around the tip of him, the taste somewhat salty, then swallow, head continuing to bob along his length.

Billy looks down finally, seeing that your eyes are closed, like you're enjoying yourself just as much as he is. "Fuck, angel. I don't know how much longer I can-"

You pull back, looking up at him, batting your lashes, stroking him in your hand. "Hm?"

He twitches in your grip, knowing he's getting closer.

After a moment of silence, you shrug, easing your mouth onto him once more.

You reach up, gently cupping his testicles and his eyes go wide when you gently tug against them. "Holy fuck-"

You hollow your cheeks.

"Jesus fuckin'-"

You swirl your tongue, taking him as deep as you can manage without gagging, moving your neck at a rapid pace.

And then he suddenly pulls your head closer to him, fist still in your hair, and he begins to buck his hips, cock slamming against the back of your throat, until he finally throws his head back, groaning, spilling down your throat as he finishes.

Once you've cleaned him with your tongue, he reaches down, gently pulling your hand away from his softening member.

You stand then.

"Did...did you swallow again?" He asks.

Wait. Were you not supposed to do that? Was...was that bad? You'd done it earlier, too, and he hadn't said anything... So you'd just gone with it, assuming that it was a normal thing to do.

"Yes, why? Am I not supposed to do-"

He smirks, shaking his head. "No, it's not that, sweetheart. Just...most girls spit."

"Oh." Your brows furrow. Sounds like a waste to you. "Well, I don't mind swallowing."

His smile grows wider. And then he leans down, muttering 'my lil' cherry pie', before kissing you passionately.

He then pulls back, lips still touching against your own. "Time to repay the favor."

He kneels on one knee, other leg bent, foot still flat on the tiled shower floor.

You lean back against the corner of the shower and he lifts one of your legs onto his shoulder and begins to lick, easing two fingers inside of you, curling them, massaging, sucking against your clit.

"Oh God, Billy..." You grip his shoulder, until he grabs your hand, settling it on the top of his head.

He glances up to you with a wicked smirk. "Fair's fair, sugar."

He goes back to teasing your clit with the tip of his tongue and your fingers clench tightly around his wet curls, pulling his face in closer to your core.

He chuckles against you, muttering into your mound, "needy little thing" before kissing you there and spearing his tongue inside of you.

You nearly slam your head back against the wall as he begins tracing his name on your clit, intent on finishing this time.

He grabs your thigh tightly, feeling you growing closer, and he begins to go faster. On the 'o' in his last name, you begin to clench more rapidly around him.

Not fucking yet, he thinks, making a swift 'v'.

You gasp, fingers pulling so tightly against his strands that he's sure you're about to rip a few out. He hopes you fucking do.

Just as he completes the last 'e', do you shatter, crying out, legs shaking, body trembling, his fingers working rapidly inside of your tight hot walls that're squeezing against his digits.

He slips them out of you then, gripping your right hip as he smiles up at you. "You know, that is one of my favorite albums," he says standing, smirking down at you as he cups both of your cheeks in his palms. "Slippery When Wet."

He crushes his lips against yours.

When the two of you laid down for the night, Billy was naked, as per usual, and you had decided to try it out as well, knowing he'd get a kick out of it, if nothing else. Besides, if your feet got cold, you could always just stick them on his back.

He turns onto his side as you slip under the covers, sliding his hand along your bare hip. He hums in interest. "Look who decided she doesn't like sleeping with clothes on anymore either."

You reply nonchalantly. "I can always put them back on."

He wraps a leg around one of yours, pulling you to him. "You won't hear me complaining. Besides, makes for easier access this way."

You sigh. "Go to sleep, Billy." You fight against a smirk he can't see anyway, as the room is pitch black.

"That's my name, please wear it out." A beat of silence, then, "Besides, how the hell am I supposed to sleep with you pressed up against me like this all night?"

"Who pressed up against who when they got into bed?"

"Oh, you were practically asking for it." He snuggles his face against your neck.

"How?"

"By looking like that."

You suddenly regret this decision. He was never going to shut up now. "You can't see anything. Now will you please-"

"Oh, I can see it right now. All I have to do is close my eyes, doll."

"Billy-" You jerk when you feel his erection poking you in the side.

"Woops, seems someone else is up now, too. Maybe he just needs a kiss goodnight."

"You're getting on my nerves."

"Mm, which ones," he asks, hand settling between your legs.

You sigh loudly in irritation.

You can practically hear the smirk on his face when he says, "That good, huh? And I've barely even touched you yet."

You flip around so you're on your side, facing him. You clamp your hand over his mouth. "Shh, go to sleep."

He licks your hand and you pull away. "Oh, Billy, that's so gross." You say, wiping your palm against his chest.

"My face has been between your legs, making a meal out of the place you piss from, and that's what turns you off?"

You groan, pressing your forehead against his pectoral.

He chuckles, wrapping his arms around you, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. "Alright, I'll lay off."

You cuddle closer.

"But I can't make any promises for him," he says, pushing his hips closer to you, erection poking against your stomach.

You squeeze your eyes shut, not bothering with replying.

[quill-and-quiver]

𝙿𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐: house of the dragon | aemond targaryen x fem!reader 𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: You haven't seen your husband in a month. When he returns, you decide to show your love by giving a little affection to his battle scars. 𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: arranged marriage, mention of scars (no descriptions!), a tinge of angst, oral (f receiving), fingering, p in v, eye contact teehee, overstim and bondage if you squiiiint | if u noticed anything i missed, pls let me know! 𝚆/𝙲: 2.5k — 11 min read time .·:*¨༺➻𝙰/𝙽: ig i just really like my soft silver-haired boys. this was NOT supposed to be smut originally 💀 but shit am i glad it morphed into this 🤍 mills

✧❦༺ 𝖗𝖊𝖖𝖚𝖊𝖘𝖙 |.☽.| 𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 |.☽.| 𝖙𝖆𝖌𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 ༻❦✧

Your hands grasp feverishly all along Aemond’s bare, hot skin. Your fingernails dig into his flesh and tangle in his silver locks. His hands roam your body, sliding up your thigh as his fingertips grip the muscle of your waist and hip, maybe hard enough to bruise. His lips attack your neck. He bites and sucks on every shred of sensitive skin available to him. He pulls it between his teeth, and you gasp.

Your husband has just returned from a trip after being gone for more than than a month. Despite his frequent jaunting off to do business, you’ve never been apart that long. Now that he’s back, you need him. Desperately. And judging by the pressure near your inner thigh, he needs you just as bad.

Your touch moves from his bare chest onto his neck. You grip his nape and force his face to yours,  pressing harsh kisses on him. His tongue slides between your lips, pushing its way into your mouth. You moan into his kiss, and your fingers trace his jaw. You trail your fingertip up over his cheek. Absentmindedly, caught up in the moment, your finger drags across the jagged scar cutting down Aemond’s cheekbone.

He jerks, his lips slipping from your own. Your eyes flash open just in time to watch him back away. His back slams against the wall behind him. Breaths heaving, your eyebrows furrow.

“Aemond? What’s wrong? Are you alright?” you ask, a bit frantically.

His blue-grey eye is wide, his nostrils flared. He drops his head, and your gut clenches with nerves. Though he doesn’t say anything, you can see his eyelashes flick from side to side. He traces every detail on the floor, refusing to meet your gaze. You gulp and carefully step toward him, one foot at a time. Once beside him, you bend your head to try and lock his eye, but he avoids you.

“Aemond…you’re worrying me.”

You lift your arm to reach for him, but he holds up a hand. You freeze. Your face screws up in concern, a sharp ache building in your tightening chest. Shaking your head, you recount everything that just happened. Though you replay the scene over and over in your head, you can’t understand. Until you remember the part where you touched his scar. Your eyebrows unfurl and you release a disappointed breath.

The scar. The one he’d gotten as a gift from his nephew Jacaerys. The one that would never, ever go away. It had disfigured his otherwise perfect skin and half-blinded him. Permanently.

Your marriage was arranged. You never really got the opportunity to know your husband before you professed your vows in front of a hundred witnesses just over a year ago. You’ve both been physical since the start; a significant factor in your willingness to marry Aemond was your raw attraction to him. This is not the first time you’ve been hasty with yourselves. More often than you would care to admit, you’ve pounced on each other with little care as to who saw or heard you. And yet, all the times you’ve fucked before, when you’ve been as close as two human beings could possibly be, you’ve somehow never touched his scar. Not once. You have no idea what lies underneath that scrap of leather.

You know Aemond is not a naturally trusting person. From the few details he’s let slip about his childhood, you can understand why. Since your wedding day, you’ve both made a concerted effort to grow closer. It’s proved much easier than you were expecting, but you know very well there is much more of his trust to be earned.

Tonight you allowed yourself to become frenzied, trapped in a dangerous lust which drew attention to the one part of himself that shames Aemond most.

“I’m sorry,” you say quietly.

With your tousled hair and the disheveled appearance of your clothes, you feel dirty. You wrap your arms around your torso. You want nothing more than to drown your body in a thick blanket and cover every inch of yourself. To disappear into darkness. You hate that you’ve made him feel this way.

“I didn’t…” you continue, unsure what to say but desperate to make him better. “I didn’t mean to. I’m sorry. I-”

“Stop,” he interrupts you, his voice firm. “Just stop.”

You grip yourself tighter. You bite your tongue to keep your emotions at bay. Aemond lifts his head, his silver hair draping over his shoulder. You look to him, your pleading stare blurred by your tears. His face is hardened, jaw clenched, fists by his sides. Your heart aches. He stares at you for a moment, his face cold as stone. Your gut lurches as he steps toward you. And then brushes past you. You squeeze your eyes shut to blink the tears away.

He sits on the bed and rests his elbows on his knees. You allow him a few seconds of silence. It’s all you can bear before you cautiously make your way over to him. Worried that he’ll tell you off again, you slow when you near him. He says nothing. You open your mouth to apologize again, but he interrupts.

“It wasn’t you, pet. Don’t apologize again.”

Breathing a sigh of relief, you drop to your knees. You crawl between his legs and then, bracing your hands on his thighs, lean your cheek against his leg. A few tears slip silently down your cheek. You let them fall.

Aemond’s fingers snake under your chin, raising your gaze to his. He brushes his thumb against your cheek, wiping your tear stains away. He stares unrelentingly into your eyes, searching. You tilt your head as if to ask what he sees. You raise one of your hands from his thigh, reaching out to place it on his heart. He heaves a deep breath and gulps. You watch like a hawk while his hand raises toward the leather eyepatch. He smoothly lifts it up and over his head, placing it on the mattress beside him.

There, in place of a matching stormy grey eye, is a sapphire orb. Sparkling and…beautiful. Though you could not deny that you’ve sometimes feared this exact moment, you find yourself mesmerized, perhaps even entranced by what you see. You move slowly, giving him plenty of time to stop you if he wishes. He does not. You touch your fingers to the scar, tracing the line down his cheek. His eyes close, his eyebrows furrowing.

You smile. You love the feeling of him, any part of him. Even the skin, the parts, others may see as damaged. You love them. Because they're him.

You stand and pull him along with you. Wrapping your fingers around his palm, you place a kiss to a small scar on the back of his hand. Though you’ve noticed it before, you have no idea where it came from. You follow by kissing another scar, this one on his wrist, probably from sparring with Ser Cole. You raise yourself up on your tiptoes to peck one on his chest. As you lazily drag your hands across his taut muscles, you look up at him through your eyelashes.

Aemond follows your gaze until you dip behind his back. Though a pang thrums through your chest at the sheer number of them, you press your lips against each and every scar jagging across his back. You feel him tense each time your mouth ghosts over his skin. His head drops to the side, exposing his profile to you. Exposing his sapphire eye and the matching scar. You know he can’t see you, but his nostrils flare as if he can almost smell you. Something about him is animalistic, and it makes your breathing come in shallow pants.

You trail your fingertips across his side. His stare follows your every move. You place your hands on his biceps, kissing a scar on his collarbone and then one between his neck and the meat of his shoulder. As you do, you allow your hands to wind around the nape of his neck. You flick your eyes over to him, drinking in his soft expression for a moment before touching your lips to the scar over his eye. He leans into your embrace. You pause again, holding him for a second, soaking in his affection.

When you pull away, you find his eyes closed. He looks surprisingly refreshed, calm. His eyes finally blink open. You’ve never seen him so look so gentle. You offer a small smile, your palm cupping his cheek, thumb caressing the scar. His fingers curl possessively over your hand. He guides you onto the soft velvet of the bed. As you push yourself backward, he crawls over top of you. You watch your own fingertips as they trace over the striations in his muscles, flexed under his weight. Wisps of his long hair fall gracefully over his arms. He eases the strap of your nightgown over your shoulder.

Aemond lowers himself to kiss your shoulder. His mouth is warm and wet, and goosebumps raise on your skin in his wake. He tugs the nightgown down with him as he moves, giving attention to your collarbone, chest, the space in between your breasts. When he kisses your lower stomach, you arch and he slides a hand around your lower back. With expert skill, he trails one of his hands up your thigh, pushing the silk fabric up your leg and bunching it around your hips. He looks up at you, no semblance of his usual smirk, just admiration in his eyes. He hooks his palms around your thighs and lowers his mouth.

At the first swipe of his tongue, your head falls back onto the pillow. By the third, his long, slender fingers are sliding into your folds. As he pushes his way inside, you catch your lip between your teeth. You gasp when his fingers curl up inside your walls and his tongue dances around your clit. Your fist clutches onto the silk sheets by your head. Your hips start to move in time with his fingers. His grip on your thigh is firm and tight, almost painful. As you move against him, you feel a familiar knot start to form in your stomach. His fingers drive in and out of you, smooth and easy, covered in your wetness. Your hand latches onto his as you grasp for control. You’ve lost track of how many of Aemond’s fingers are in you now. Your breath grows ragged as it becomes difficult to breathe, each moment more unbearable than the last. You grip his fingers, pressing your head back against the pillow as you prepare for release.

He denies you. He detaches his lips from your clit and fingers from your pussy. You groan, glaring at him. He raises himself up on his knees, his head leaning back. Your anger evaporates at the sight of your wetness glistening on his chin and the smirk of his lips.

You watch with bated breath as Aemond removes his trousers. His knee hooks under your left thigh, pushing your leg open to make room for his hips. When he places his hands on either side of your head, you latch onto his forearms as if they were handles. He brushes your hair from your sweaty forehead before wrapping his fingers around your jaw. His thumb drags along your lips. You gasp for air, his gaze like dragonfire on your skin. Though he smiles softly for a moment, his expression fades into a wicked grin as he pushes inside you.

You’ve had him before. Several times. But this is different. The intimacy, the pressure, the deliberate way he shifts his hips into you. Most of all, the way he keeps his eyes steadily on you, unyielding and focused. You’ve never even realized how good your love could be. Most times, your eyes had been shut in pleasure. Now, watching how his face changes with every movement, you never want to close them again. His eyes darken right before he thrusts and soften when he pulls out.

You hike your legs, hooking your knees into the space between his rib cage and hip bones. He takes that as permission to speed up. His body drops to one elbow, his other hand threading through yours to pin your arm above your head. You curl your fingernails into his knuckles. He keeps his gaze on you, his breath quickening. Your moans get louder and louder and your hips buck against him. You feel that knot building, relishing the way it feels when he fills you up. Sweat drips down the back of your neck. Your eyes instinctively close, but Aemond taps his forehead against yours. When you open, he shakes his head.

“I want to see you.”

You nod, forcing a deep breath. His sapphire eye seems to glow in the darkened bedroom. Your free hand slides onto his shoulder, fingertips tugging at his skin. He growls in response and his eyebrows knit together. You fight to keep your eyes open, especially when his mouth pops open. He lowers his head toward you. Your gasps and moans sync up to pace one another. You inhale sharply as the knot in your stomach unfurls, your head tilting back and your body arching into Aemond’s hard figure. His groan in response is almost drowned out by the sound that escapes your mouth as your body shakes through your orgasm.

You can hardly catch your breath as Aemond continues to drill into you even after you’ve finished. His jaw clenches, a sign you’ve learned means he’s close. You wrench your hand free from his grasp above your head and place both of your open palms on his face. You again brush his scar with your thumb, whimpering at the soreness building below you. He immediately drops his forehead on yours, his body quivering as his warmth floods into you. He slows to a stop. You both freeze, your pants mixing.

Giddy with pleasure, you giggle and kiss your husband. He gives you a lazy one back. When you part, his droopy eyes open and the ghost of a smirk dances across his lips. He shakes his head and pecks the corner of your mouth before burying his head in your neck. Your arms wrap around him. His slide around your waist and up your back. His weight on top of your body feels good. You like holding him close while he’s in you. The closest that you could possibly be.

Aemond playfully nips at your neck before pulling away to flop on the bed beside you. He pulls the covers over your sweaty bodies. You snuggle closer to him, grinning like a fool. He shares your expression, threading his fingers through yours. He raises your knuckles to his lips and kisses them sweetly.

“I love you, Aemond. Just as you are,” you whisper, nudging his nose with yours.

He doesn’t say it back. But the way he pulls you closer, tucks his chin over your head, wraps his arms protectively around you. The way he falls asleep with you just like that, his eyepatch discarded and forgotten about. The way he’d given himself completely to you in the most vulnerable way possible. It had all been his way of showing you that he loves you, too.

tags: @kennafild @anukulee

[doesthendnlive]

I'm so tired. Sorry for bad grammar or mistakes.

TW for rape/pedophilia/slavery/domestic violence/violence against Indigenous women and girls specifically

It makes me so angry we Sacagawea and "Pocahontas" are known our figure head Native "Women". If you want to go a litter further the fact that "La Malinche" is idolized as well in the same way. But we don't learn about their actual lives.

Why are public schools obessed with these pedophilic relationships between Native girls and old gross ass white males as "The country coming together" or a "unity between 'Indians' and whites'" or "the creation of our mestizo race" or whatever else.

Sacagewa was only 12 when her "husband" bought her, and 16 when he impregnated her. I didn't learn this until I looked it up and searched for it myself.

"Charbonneau was also known for his short temper with his wives. On August 14, 1805, Charbonneau struck Sacagawea during a domestic argument, and was told to stop by Clark. This one incident has led to Charbonneau's reputation as a "wife beater," although it was the only time during the expedition that this type of behavior was noted. Coupled with the rape incident described above, however, Charbonneau seems to have been a sometimes violent person with little regard for women Native girls . His consistent record of marrying Native girls under age 16 also makes one wonder about a possible need to exhibit power over women Native girls

Charbonneau is known to have had a total of five wives, all young Native American women girls whom he married when they were sixteen years old or younger. He may have had more wives who have been lost to the record, however. His last known wife, an Assiniboine girl, was 14 when she married him in 1837; he was more than 70 years old."

Matoaka was even younger if I remember right, the bastardization of her real life story and the fetishization of her story and Native women and girls beause apparently we're all from her people. The fact the "Pocahontas" even exists, the disregard for her actual story and scraping details out to make it more palatable.

Despite the fact the she didn't get to have palatable, she had to endure violence, forced removal, rape, and forced impregnation by her rapist(s). She didn't get to have that comfort or safety but everyone else gets to when 'learning' about her.

"La Malinche" or "Malintzin" (we literally don't know her birth name) was around 11-16 years of age when she ended up on the hands of Spaniards

What makes it worse in regards of "Malintzin" is that Hispanic Males fetishize the "Mestizo race" and the rape of Indigenous women and girls especially to create this race.

They only claim their Indigenous decent when it benefits them, while they are still actively anti Indigenous themselves and hate actual indigenous peoples/communities.

Argentina specifically, it's called chineo, criollo males are known for targeting Indigenous women and girls to rape/gangrape them. It's a old colonial practice that still happens to this day.

Im just so angry that our figure Indigenous "women" are just these little girls adultified into these grown women just to make people less uncomfortable with the power dynamic imbalance and pedophilic relationships and colonialism and colonization in general

Racist white males (Spanish, English, French, whatever flavour of white idc) love this idea of conquering Indigenous women and raping them. I heard way too many gross comments from old white males with rapey undertones to them about them being white and me being a Indigenous girl.

Or even them mocking the sexual violence we face, one of my ex white male friends mocked me for being abused when we got into a argument not related to it at all he also was more and more racist to me as time went on.

In both of the Americas Indigenous people, but especially Indigenous Women and girls aren't safe. It's scary how much violence is forced onto us and how these figure head "Women" are watered down into comfortability for the general public.

The violence we face is pretty much the same in the Americas, and its scary to know we are stuck in places that hate us despite being on our lands in the first place.

all of this but THIS PART ESPECIALLY:

[fictionalmenmakemecry]

Never getting over you

Characters: Carmy Berzatto x Reader

Summary: After a toxic split, you and Carmy had both moved on but a night of endless scrolling on social media brought back all the fever feelings you had for one Carmen Berzatto. You just want to check in on him.. That's all.

Warnings: None

Your eyes continuously moved as you mindlessly scrolled through your feed. People that you haven't spoken to in years, popping up, showing their recent adventures to another country or pregnancy announcements.

You could feel your inner envy growing seeing everyone hitting different milestones in their life. The struggle of trying to keep yourself level as you continued to scroll grew harder and harder.

Your eyes landed on one image. Everything stopped. Your twitching finger, fatigue eyes and even your breathing.

Your eyes never left his face. His soft smile that never conveyed how truly happy he was. Your started taking in other details of the photo. You finally realize what he was standing in front of.

The Bear

You finally let out you shake breath and started reading the words above the photo.

"Congratulation to my baby brother finally biting the bullet and going for it! Mikey would be so proud"

Even though it been a year since the split, you still had remained friends with Sugar. So, seeing this on your feed shouldn't shock you. But it did.

Memories flooded your mind of him talking about it. You would watch him as his mind tick along with so many ideas he had about The Bear.

You noticed that they went with the signage that you first proposed and you felt your heartache.

Sitting forward on the couch, leaning over his shoulder as he sat on the floor below you. His eyes scrutinized the font designs on your phone.

"Not bad.. I could see it" He murmured continuing to look at it.

A small smile crept up on your face. This was first of many things that you had showed him and that he actually liked.

Carmy was hard to impress, especially when he knew exactly what he wanted. Nothing could stray from his vision and The Bear was very much apart of that.

After all this, he had stuck with your idea. Even after the toxic and messy split you both went through. You didn't know where his head was today. With the The Bear up and running, probably full and unhealthily obsessed with it. The very point that broke you up.

You locked your phone and tried to convinced yourself that you didn't need to see it. You didn't need to visit it. You didn't want to accidently run into him. Or realize the past 9 month he has had a vice grip on your heart, making any date or protentional romantic interest pointless when nothing filled the hole he left.

The idea of him thriving without you, made you nauseous and left you in the dust of your own life. Which what scared you when you were with him and now you were feeling it anyway without him.

Before you knew it, you were across the street from it.

You stood still, taking in the warm hue of lights getting cast onto the street from the bustling inside. The narrow window gave you a hint of what was going on inside the kitchen.

But you couldn't see him.

You envisioned yourself going in and taking the empty table next to the window. Maybe even talking to Richie and congratulating him and then Carmy would....

You broke away from that train of thought when you realize how ridiculous it sounded. Carmy wouldn't do anything. He wouldn't give a shit. The way you were both wounded from the relationship probably have him running for the hills.

Your eyes caught someone coming out of the dark alley. A silhouette of a person with a head of hair that you knew too well. As they walked out further, the street light gradually bringing detailed to their figure.

You saw the end of their cigarette burn bright.

Both just stood there, looking at each other.

"Carmy?" You called out gently

Silence enveloped the street. His stare never leaving you.

"Yeah?" He replied flicking the end of his cigarette.

Apart of you wanted to just run across the street and see how he was doing. Ask him a million questions but your feet stood still and mouth stayed closed

"Cousin!" Another figure came out of the alley, Richie your presumed

"What?" Carmy tore his eyes from you.

Richie pulled him back inside, not noticing you on the other side of the street.

You felt your face turn red feeling like an idiot.

What were you doing?

You got caught. But that's what you wanted to happen. You wanted him to know that he was still on your mind. That nothing could shake the memories you had of him.

Every decision you made around Carmy was always the wrong one. it was a road that you knew too well and now it was starting again. After months and months of convincing yourself you don't need him. Your willpower unraveled just being around him.

You walked home feeling more lost than you have in months.