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shoyoist · 2 years

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having horrible horny thoughts about telling best friend hanma no guy has ever made you cum so he takes it upon himself to be the first because he deserves it and wants to be your first something :,( eats you out like a starved man and his strokes are immaculate someone help 💔💔

— 𝐓𝐑𝐔𝐓𝐇 𝐎𝐑 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐄 !! : hanma shuji.

content: f!reader. college au(?). you're inexperienced, shuji is secretly in love with you. pussy eating, fingering, multiple orgasms, overstim, edging, he makes you call him daddy. if this makes no sense its bec i wrote the whole thing w my clit.

an: (s)creaming this turned into a full fic lmfaoo

⠀⠀ — . ｡˚ ♡ "i dare you to tell me somethin' that'll make me laugh."

“no guy’s ever made me cum.” you’d told hanma. a not so innocent answer to a rather innocent dare, you admit. but he’s your best friend, nothing less (and nothing more). it’s fine.

and there was an awkward, momentary silence for a few seconds. he’d fallen still, holding the cigarette he’d been about to take a drag from in mid air, amber eyes flickering with an emotion unreadable to you.

“say what, dollface?” he asks — using that petname with you again, that your exes always hated — and the disbelieving tone in his voice embarrasses you, brings a flush to your cheeks and ties a knot of humiliation in your guts.

you squirm on the back of his motorcycle, as he turns his head to look at you, leaning against the fence right by you, where he’d parked the vehicle.

“i—” you stutter, flustered. “no guy’s ever made me cum before.” just something funny that’d slipped out your mouth, during a lazy game of truth or dare you’d played during his smoke break after class.

“that’s fucking funny, doll.” he does laugh, but it’s awkward. “you serious?”

“yes.” you’d answered. truthfully.

and now, you’re splayed out between hanma’s legs, on his bed in his room, his long and lithe fingers bullying their way into your cunt for the third time. “h—ah! wait!”

he’s leaning against the headboard, one arm hooked around your waist, hand firmly on your thigh and holding your legs spread apart, fingers in your pussy as he chuckles lowly at your whines.

you’d question it — question what the fuck was happening, if he just wasn’t so fucking hot and making you feel so fucking good.

“that’s it,” he smirks, as you drop your head against his chest, grabbing onto his wrist, desperately trying to close your legs as he effortlessly draws another orgasm out of you. “that’s it ... ya look fuckin’ cute when you’re cumming.”

he laughs when you try to look up at him and scowl, eyes fluttering and rolling back into your head when he uses the hand that’s not busy fucking your pussy to land a slap on your clit.

you moan again, and he laughs. “see? atta girl, so pretty when you cum. tellin’ me nobody’s ever seen you like this?”

you dont answer, too busy trying to blink back the wave of dizziness that’s washing over you with the bliss hanma’s giving you, on his fingers alone.

the inked kanji on the back of his hand flashes darkly, sin bobbing up and down between your legs, shiny with your slick, as hanma curls his fingers into your tight, clenching walls and rasps into the shell of your ear, “asked you a question, dollface.”

“nobody,” you gasp, for some reason so nervous yet so turned on, by the demanding, challenging edge to his tone. “nobody, hanma— ah!”

“tch, it’s shuji, sweetheart.” he pinches your clit, laughs when your knees jerk up at the sensation.

his voice goes a little softer as he continues, thinking you wouldn’t notice the hint of jealousy and longing in his voice with the state you’re in. “gonna keep me just your friend, just your ol’ buddy hanma-kun even after i take you on my bed, fuck you on my fingers ’n make you cum over ’n over again?”

“a—mngh, ’m sorry, shuji,” you whine, too enamoured by how he feels to argue, and his heart jumps at how sweet his name sounds off your tongue. “f—fuck, feels so good!”

“would feel better if i were usin’ my tongue. or if you were on my cock.” he laughs when your expression visibly scrunches up in embarrassment, cooing at you and telling you how cute you are as he grips your waist and turns you around to straddle him, legs shaky with the effect of your previous orgasms. “want me to do it, yeah?”

“mmm,” you answer though you’re not sure what he means, holding onto his shoulders for support. he holds you steady, and slides himself down onto his back onto the mattress, pushing your legs further apart around him and cupping your ass, pulling you forward — and you realize what he’s about to do. “shuji, no, i’ve n—”

you cut yourself off, but hanma picks your sentence up anyway.

“never been eaten out before?” he asks, sounding both unconvinced and pissed off at the same time, and you sit there as he stares up at you, so fucking embarrassed—

“my doll’s been gettin’ treated like shit, huh?” he breathes, gold eyes tracing your figure down. “sweet lil’ thing, i’ll show you how y’should be treated, a’right?”

“mm,” you let out a sound, so shy when his voice goes all sympathetic. it makes your pussy go slick with want, your heart beating faster with anticipation. “mkay.”

hanma doesn’t hold back. he tightens his arms around your hips and waist in an instant, pulling your cunt down on his mouth, nose pressed just over your clit as he inhales deep into you, letting out a needy growl as he opens his mouth and takes you.

your hands scramble to find a hold on the headboard as he rocks you forward, trapping you on your knees with your thighs plush and warm around his face, drinking in your cunt — devouring you like a man starved. “fuck,” he slurs into your heat, muffled and hot. “shit, baby, s’ fuckin—good.”

his tongue grazes your clit, curls around it and sucks, and you cry out, squirming in his arms, one hand leaving the headboard to get down and curl your fingers into his hair and tug, stuttering his name out in a pleading chant. “shuji, shuji, shuji — fuck!”

the moan he lets out when you pull at his black and blonde locks thrums against your cunt, and when he sucks at your clit again, slurping loudly and grunting praise into you, it’s enough to make you cum again. “ah, shuji, cumming, cumming!”

“i know,” he hisses, and when you look down at him, the rise of his cheekbones, his nose and his mouth are soaked with your wetness— and his eyes are blown wide, the gold of them almost lost in the darkness of his want. “i know, baby. i know.”

“please,” you hiccup, tears blurring your vision, hips trembling as you try not to collapse over hanma’s face.

your cunt aches, empty despite the way he shoves his tongue up your fluttering hole, and you dont want another orgasm without it. “fuck! shuji — shuji please, need your cock.”

“mm — what’d you say, dollface?” he grunts, licking at your clit, yanking you back in when you try to lift yourself off him. “cant just get all you want like that. say it right f’me.”

“w-what?” you sob, unsure what he means but so needy to obey, because you just need him to stuff you full and fill you up already.

you dont know if it’s wrong or not, to want your best friend’s dick inside you so badly, but you’ve gone this far, havent you? he’s giving you what you want.

“you g’na do as i say?” he smirks, watching how you nod and keen when he tongues at your abused clit again. “then say ‘i love you, daddy, i only want you ‘n your cock from now on’.”

huh? — it takes a second or two, but the words put clarity in your head, somewhat, when you hear them.

swallowing back the shaky whine of acceptance bubbling at your throat, you manage to ask instead, “you want me to tell you i love you?”

there’s a small pause, before hanma’s grip on your hips tightens again.

but this time, he pulls you off.

it urges you back to your position straddling his hips, as he sits back up, leaning on the headboard once more — and though his hard-on brushing hot and heavy through his jeans against your messy cunt is distracting, you pay attention to his expression instead.

hanma stares at you, face wet with your slick and hair messy with your hand tangling through the dyed locks. “so you ... dont?”

it’s a sudden flipside to the multiple orgasms he’d just sent you through, and it disorients you just a little.

but the look in his amber eyes, black and blonde hair stuck to his forehead and framing his face, the warmth in your heart as you contemplate an answer — and the desperate ache in your empty cunt, it all convinces you to say you do.

“i do.”

there’s yet another damned pause, as you sit on hanma’s lap, naked and with his dick hard under your ass, your palms flat against his bare chest — if someone’d told you before that a dumb game of truth or dare after class would lead you to this situation, you’d laugh.

but — but this is shuji. he’s rough on the exterior, a major tease, a man notorious and famous on the streets; but really? he’s sweet.

he buys you coffee, takes you out shopping, takes you to the salon, pays for your takeout. he always tells you he'll fuck your exes up if they hurt you or make you cry (and they have done so, but you've never allowed him to beat them).

he goes with you to the library, even though he doesn't even care for spending hours on assignments or work. to be fair, he does leave you in there and go out to smoke after only a few minutes, but he always comes back to drop you home.

he's so nice to you, despite himself. and turns out, if you'd just ask, he'd fuck you too.

he’s your best friend. nothing less, nothing more, but you decide it now, trembling from the euphoria he’s giving you. you want more.

it’s possessive and spells desire, how he’d pulled you in here to make up for your ‘stupid shit exes’, telling you he would make you feel good if nobody else has done it before.

it’s all so sudden, but it makes sense. he’s been just your best friend this whole time, but you want more.

“i do love you, shuji.”

hanma lets out a breath, when you repeat it. “really, now?” he mutters. “not just sayin’ that so i’ll give you my cock? dont play with my heart now, doll.” he chuckles, but you can see the sincerity in his eyes.

“i do.” you mumble, shy again under the intensity of his piercing stare. “and i guess ... that’s why it never worked with anyone else. when you were there this whole time.”

“hah,” hanma laughs, steadying his hold on your waist before bringing one hand up to pat your cheek. ”y’ telling me no other asshole could make you cum, ‘cause you were busy wishin’ it was me?”

“no!” you blurt out, but when he grins wider, slides his hand down from your cheek to pinch the soft flesh of your tits, the electric shiver that courses down your spine says otherwise. it would be a lie, to say that you’ve never wanted him. “yeah, m-maybe.”

“fuck,” he hisses at that, eyes going even darker, like the dubious confirmation you’d given him was all he needed, like it was a love shot and a stroke of lust in one — and he yanks the buttons and zipper of his jeans open, tugging the fabric apart and pulling out his straining cock.

it’s big — unsurprising, but still a sight to take in, and you whimper tearfully when he grabs the length in his hand and taps his head to your clit, letting out a breathy chuckle. “biggest cock y’ ever seen, mhm?”

and you’d want to keep from boosting his ego, but the way you stare is answer enough. “n-need you in me, shuji.” you beg, and he just laughs again, rubbing the pearl of precum that swells at his tip across your slit, teasing. “say what i told you to say, then. if y’love me.”

call him daddy? “do i really have to?” you whine, pushing forward and grinding up on his cockhead. it ellicits a rough moan from him, that makes your clit throb when you hear it — but hanma remains adamant.

“you hafta, dollface.” he smiles, showing you teeth. “you’ll do it, if y’ really want me so bad.”

and god, the layers of pleasure he’d drowned you in are too sharp, too overwhelming for you to refuse and stop this right now — you want, need his cock. right now.

fine. “i—i love you, daddy.” you mumble, eyes skirting down because you cant bring yourself to look him in the eyes. “and i-i want only you. only your cock, and only you. i love you.”

and it’s like hanma has been waiting for this moment his whole life.

“shit, baby,” he huffs, pulling your tits flush against his body as he grabs you by the waist and by the back of your neck, dragging you in and meeting your lips with his in a starved kiss — fuck, he hadn’t kissed you until now?

you realize it, with both a pang and a fluttering in your heart, but the thought is soon knocked out of your head, as he kisses you again, tasting the lingering essence of yourself on his tongue, tasting him, catching the scent of cigarettes and men’s cologne on his mouth and neck as you lean into him, letting him savour you whole.

“god, i love you.” he groans, as he lines his cock up at your entrance, sliding sin and punishment over to your ass again and sheathing you down on him. “loved you f’so long now, baby. d’you know how i’ve felt? ‘n now y’re fuckin’ telling me all those assholes you dated never made you cum. fuck.”

“mm, sh-shuji!” you cry, and he moans in your ear in reply. “s-slower! please, please—”

“‘m too big for you?” he rasps, voice hoarse with pleasure. god, he’s wanted this forever. your tight, velvet walls clenching around him, wet and hot and your body on him, so pretty and all his.

“cant slow down, sweetheart.” he hisses. “consider this your punishment. for playin’ with my heart like that, for so long.” you’ve got your arms wrapped around hanma’s neck, trying to control the pace at which you sink down on his cock, but he rolls his hips up and pushes all the way into you anyway.

“a—haah! shuji!” your moan is saccharine in his ear, and he swallows back a curse, knowing that it’s not going to be long before he’s cumming, filling you all up.

“say sorry, baby.” he growls, pulling out before shoving back in you again, putting stars into your eyes with the sharp slap of skin against skin, the harsh kiss of his tip against your cervix. “really didn’t think i loved you, even when i was fuckin’ knuckle deep in you? callin’ you my dollface and telling you y’re pretty ‘n driving you around, and sucking on that sweet lil clit?”

you cry out, when he bites at the side of your neck, feeling even more embarrassed, feeling stupid — because god, you were stupid to miss the signs. to think he was just like that. when he only ever was that way with you. “‘m sorry, sorry. please, i’m sorry.”

“hmm,” he lulls, kissing the marks of his teeth that he’d left on you. “cant be mean with you, can i? too fuckin’ sweet for your own good.”

your mouth is on his cheek, lips sliding down his jaw in desperate kisses, needing him more even when he’s right here, when your body’s pressed to his and his lips are on you and his cock is all the way in your cunt. “mmngh,” you try, too dizzy to answer properly.

“now let’s teach ya how it feels to cum on a big, fat cock, yeah, dollface?” he says, starting up a hasty rhythm with his cock, up and down into you as you struggle to stay sitting up on his lap. “poor lil’ doll’s never even done this before?”

“never.” you keen, lost in the way his cock is so long, so thick, reaching all the sweet spots deep in your cunt in one fucking go. “n-never came on a cock before.”

“yeah, i know.” he says, all sympathetic again, and it sends heat rushing to both your face and your core. “g’na beg daddy to let you cum all over his cock?”

“mhm,” you moan, and he smiles, brings you in for another kiss as he speeds up. “then say it, baby. say what y’need to say to have your way.”

“mm, daddy, daddy—” you sob, trying to kiss him back as he hums into your mouth, forgetting your embarrassment at having to call him that, because fuck, it was starting to feel fitting. “please let me cum on your cock, please, please—”

“only if you’ll let me fill this pretty pussy all up.” he stutters, voice turning all raspy as he goes even faster, bouncing you up and down so hard as he nears his high.

he loves the way you beg. loves the way you call him by that name. so cute, and almost pathetic, for him. it’s a fresh change. one he wants to hold on to. “yeah? you’ll let me do that, baby? let daddy fill your cunt up with his cum?”

“yes,” you gasp, vision going cloudy with both tears and pleasure as you feel the coil in your stomach getting tighter and tighter all over again. “fuck, anything! anything, daddy, just please.”

“please what?” his laugh is now hoarse, as he looks at your blissed out face from under his lashes, eyes lidded and heavy with lust and pleasure.

the bedsheets under you are soaked, but neither of you can care — you moan again, sucking in a breath and falling into hanma’s chest, tired but so, so desperate to cum again. “please, shuji. please. need to cum on your cock. need you to cum in me.”

and he does.

hanma watches, vision hazy as his cock slides out of your cunt milky and drooling, and pushes back in — pushes in so deep he hits your cervix again and he cums, leaking hot, white ropes of seed into your tight, wet cunt — and it makes you cum, too.

“fuck, tryna milk me all up, huh?” he heaves as he maintains his pace, gritting his teeth and grabbing your hips when you try to meet the rhythm, pussy fluttering and sucking him in like you’ve needed him as much as he’s needed you. “pretty, pretty lil’ pussy — all mine, yeah?”

“all yours, shuji.” you sob, and he stares as your head tilts up, eyes rolling back in your head as they fall shut, drowning in the pure heaven of cumming while stuffed full of his big, big cock. “a-hnngh, all yours.”

“yeah, that’s right.” he growls, wrapping punishment around your throat, hauling you back in to kiss you, sloppy and open mouthed, as sin slips down between your bodies — pressing into your pulsing clit with his thumb as he continues fucking up into you, pace relaxing slowly. “that’s right. y’re all mine now. forever.”

#₊˚ପ⊹ REKHA™.#₊˚ପ⊹ NYCHTA.#hanma smut #tokyo revengers smut #hanma shuji smut #hanma x reader #tokyo revengers angst #hanma shuji x reader #hanma x you #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers drabbles #hanma angst #hanma drabbles #hanma headcanons #hanma x y/n #tr smut #tokyo revengers headcanons #hanma shuji x you

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letstripdotcom · 3 months

Text

truth- matt sturniolo x fem!reader

a/n- i’m obsessed with matt in this car video⬆️

summary- you’re curious on how good your sex is so you ask the one person who you know will be brutally honest.

warnings- smut. that’s all🕺🕺

“i wish i could be a man but not me so then I could have sex with myself and tell myself if it’s good or not” i rambled on the phone with one of my best friends, nick sturniolo.

“y/n what the fuck?” he laughed. “i mean i- i don’t know it’s just a thought.” i sighed. “well if i liked women i would have sex with you” “thanks nick” i giggled

“why not just ask someone you’ve had sex with?” he asked very casually. “i don’t know i just feel like they wouldn’t be brutally honest” “yeah i guess you’re right. i mean you could always just ask a friend do have sex with you” he suggested.

“yeah, but who?” there was a moment of silence and thinking “mason?” he tilted his head “i haven’t talked to him in months, i feel like that would be way too awkward.” there was another brief pause “noah is cool what about him?”

“i’m pretty sure he had something going on with paisley.” “well fuck” nick said. “well i love you dearly but i gotta go. talk you you later love youuu!” he hung up the phone. i sat down an let out a long sigh. i don’t know why i was so bothered by this.

i pondered on the subject for days, until i found answers upon overhearing a conversation between matt and chris. i didn’t hear the whole thing but i did manage to overhear matt say “do you ever wonder if your dick is too small but everyone who has seen it is just to embarrassed to tell you?”

matt! it was perfect. i needed answers and so did he. the plan was to have sex with matt and you would tell him if his dick is small and he’ll tell me if my sex is any good. but how would i even approach that? “hey matt let’s have sex because we’re both insecure” yeah no

i sat on the sturniolos couch as you waited for the pair to go up to their rooms. when they were finally settled in upstairs, i started thinking of how you were going to ask matt. i decided to just go for it.

matty b

you

hey matt are you up?

matty

yeah what’s up?

you

well this may seem insane so you can say no if you want but i overheard you talking to chris earlier and i was wondering if we could make a deal.

matty

i’m listening

you

so i was wondering if we could like have sex? and i could tell you if your dick is small and you tell me if my sex is good. and we have to be brutally honest

matty

upstairs in 10?

you

see you then.

i shut off my phone and mentally prepared myself for what was to come. normally having sex never made me nervous, but first thing, this is matt. second thing, he’s actually gonna be brutally honest. what if i’m awful? and as bad as it sounds, what if his dick is small?

after 10 minutes passed, i headed upstairs to matt’s room. i knocked on his door and he opened it shortly after, wearing grey pajama pants and no shirt. i examined his body carefully.

the veins in his tattooed arm that’s holding the door open. the way his pants hung low on his small waist, revealing part of his boxers. his v line. his messy hair. i started to get nervous. please don’t be bad. i said to myself.

“we’ll come in” he said nervously, stepping out of the way. “so how are we gonna go about this?” i shrugged. “well we could-“ matt stopped. his hand reached out and cupped the back of my head, pulling me into a kiss.

once i eased into it, it was nice. matt’s lips were soft and plump, and he was very gentle. his unoccupied hand made its way to my waist, gently rubbing it. his tongue grazed my bottom lip, asking for access to the inside of my mouth. i let him in, and his tongue explored all of my mouth.

matt was a really good kisser and it was really turning me on. he gently made his way from my lips, to my jaw to my neck. he suckled gently enough not the leave any marks. i let out a quiet breathy moan.

he positioned both hands under my shirt and slid it off my body. he started to kiss the bare skin on my chest. wow he knows what he’s doing. he guided me to his bed and sat me on top of him.

i raked my nails gently down his bare chest, meeting the waistline of his pants. i looked at him for permission to continue and he nodded. i pulled his pants off, leaving him in his boxers.

i leaned forward and kissed him, grinding on his bulge that was only being held back by one thin layer of clothing. he grunted which seemed like a good sign

he reached around me and unhooked my bra, sliding it off. his mouth left mine and attached to one of my nipples, his hand massaging the other. i tossed my head back in pleasure. “fuck mattt” i whined. he hummed around my nipple causing me to grind harder onto him.

he separated from my chest and looked me in the eyes. “ready?” he asked “y-yeah” i nodded. he slipped down my shorts and underwear and i removed his boxers.

his dick sprung up and slapped his stomach. i swallowed nervously. definitely isn’t small. all the more reasons to be nervous. i looked at it with wide eyes, mouth slightly agape.

“well?” he muttered. “umm..” i paused trying to find words “definitely not small. like at all. you have nothing to worry about” i rambled “okay” he laughed. “well, my turn i guess” i sigh, lifting myself up. i slowly start to sink my way onto him. he lets out a broken whimper.

“i- fuck f-feels so good already” he gasps. i exhale the breath i didn’t know i was holding. i adjust to his size before bouncing slowly, wincing at the slight stretch. i moan at the feeling of my sticky walls hugging him.

i gradually speed up my pace. his hips start to buck upwards, meeting me halfway. this helps achieve a deeper angle. “g-good. you feel so good baby” i moan and clench at the way he said ‘baby’

“keep clenching and i won’t last much longer” he breathes. “i’m so close” i moan. “fuck y/n” he whines. i clench again, my stomach muscles tightening. “f-fuck say my name like that again” i beg “y-y/n” he moans, his voice cracking.

i came all over his dick, my legs a twitching mess. “yes yes yes. fuck matt” i whine as i ride his to his release. “i’m cumming. f-fuck yes. oh feels so good” he shouts praises as he cums. i lift myself off of him and sit down, catching my breath.

“so?” i asked. “fuck that was amazing, you have nothing to worry about. he lets out shaky breaths and collapses into my chest.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••

a/n- didn’t know how to end this but enjoy 😜

#chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo smut #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo smut #smut #nick sturniolo #sturniolo

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savannahsdeath · 10 months

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hi i love your writing SO MUCH and idk if i requested this already but… do you think we can get a brothers best friend ellie?? readers brother DOES NOT want them together but they end up fucking when he’s asleep/not home. or reader goes to ellies house and eats her out while shes on call with reader’s brother?? either one is fine i would just love to see you write it

i think you requested that but i made it likee the brother didnt care so heres a second one🤭ill post the first one too tho!!

BBF!ELLIE WILLIAMS X READER

mdni please<3

warnings: 18+!! smut, almost getting caught

writers note: im sorry its so short whateva💔

You couldn't decide whether you like it or not.

Well, of course you did. Ellie never failed to make you feel good, her strap hitting all the right places while her hands caressed your thighs. She was rough, but not too rough. Degrading, but also praising. Basically, she was all you could ever ask for and more. What was there to hate?

But at some point, there was this little voice in your head telling you you're pathetic. Pathetic for liking this, agreeing to this and... just admiring her overall.

Because, jesus, 'she's my brother's friend. Best friend. What am I going to tell him?'

You, as the little sister, always let him insult you. Your opinion didn't matter, you gave up on trying to be important long time ago. You didn't hate him, he wasn't that bad. It was just sibling love language. He just couldn't be nice. If he knew about you and Ellie...

You were good at hiding it, though. When you first met her, you didn't believe she's really friends with your brother. Not to be mean, but you didn't thought he'll get along with someone who seems so... perfect.

'She probably has a shitty personality.'

That's how you explained their friendship. And you were terribly wrong.

After she visited your house once, she kept coming almost every day. At this point, you got used to that.

Oh, well, not exactly... There was some awkward situations, like when you exited the bathroom in only a towel wrapped around your bare skin and you saw her leaning against the handrail in the hallway. She only ruffled your hair and laughed at your embarrassment, seeing you blush and holding onto the fabric like your life depended on it. Maybe it did, actually?

It wasn't long after that before you began to wonder -'She can't be friends with my brother... can she?'- You started to notice more things - her kindness towards you, a tender touch here and there, and the way she looked at you made you feel all warm and fuzzy inside. So what if she was his best friend? Would he really mind?

But what if he did? What if he found out?

Suddenly that little voice in your head was screaming louder than ever, and that feeling of shame and guilt crept up on you again.

But no matter how much of the guilt you felt, and despite the small voice in your head telling you you're pathetic, it felt right. You felt accepted. Accepted by someone who was perfect in every way. The thought of telling your brother filled you with dread, but it seemed so far away. You could figure out that little problem later, right? Just for now, you could feel a rush of emotions - mostly guilt, but also a rush of lust that made you want more.

More and more.

And she gave you more.

A quiet -'fuck'- escaped her lips as she saw your cunt throbbing against her strap. Her hands continued firmly holding you down as you didn't even bother to stay quiet. You felt so good... and so ashamed... You wanted it to stop but at the same time, you knew you'd beg for more if she would even simply slow down.

It was really your own fault.

This was the first time in ages you were left home alone, so you immediately invited Ellie over. First time you won't have to bury your face in the pillows. First time she won't have to shush you. First time you could actually do everything.

You were fighting your own thoughts, not knowing which one are the bad ones. You had no idea if you're doing the right thing. And you most definitely weren't but you were too fucked up to realize that.

Ellie chuckled, hearing your not-muffled this time sounds. "Were you always this loud? Jesus, how did we manage to keep this a secret for so long?"

The truth is, she wasn't silent herself. Fine, she wasn't a whining mess, unlike you, but still - the little 'fuck's and praises escaping her mouth weren't too quiet.

You continued squirming and whimpering about how big she is and how much it hurts, hoping it'll magically change, though you didn't really wanted it to. Or maybe you did? You weren't sure. Your mind continued the fight wether it's good or pathetic, none of the sides prevailing.

She clicked her tongue in disappointment, but her smirk told you how proud she really is. "I know, I know, so stop moving so fucking much." She said.

Her raspy, tired voice was enough to make you squirm again. You weren't used to hear it in these circumstances before, since it's obviously the first time she could speak loudly and clearly, without worrying about your brother.

"I said something, doll." Her grip on your hips hardened, almost aggressively pinning you to bed.

You heard the ring hanging near the door, meaning someone opened them. Just by footsteps you could tell it was your brother.

"Should I stop?" She asked with mock-concern and interest. You realized your answer won't change anything - maybe just the intensity of her moves, so you didn't waste your energy answering. That was a sign of your obedience and helplessness Ellie waited for. "Good girl."

She rolled you on your stomach and tangled her fingers in your hair, pressing your head into the pillow. She shoved it down with every thrust - every hit of your climax - to stop you from moaning. And of course it didn't work completely, but they faded enough to be inaudible outside the room.

She was intentionally going faster and faster. She loved playing with you, feeling the thrill of it, even though you didn't find it so amusing. You digged your nails into the tattoo on her forearm, hoping to slow her down.

"Ya know what will happen if he hears?" She didn't seem to care that your fingers were literally drawing blood from her body. "You'll handle it. Unless you want him to find out?" She whispered.

You immediately shook your head, pursing your lips and squeezing your eyes shut.

Then, your moment of focus broke as you heard knocking, on the door to your room this time.

"I'm back!" Your brother announced.

You asked him to tell you whenever he goes out or cames back, mostly so you knew if Ellie's free, since he only goes out with her. Today was the first time he went outside on his own and the poor guy had no idea she found a reason to visit your house anyway, just like he had no idea she did so even when he was home, in his room, right above yours.

The lack of response surprised him, so he knocked once more before shouting confused -'You there?'

Ellie looked down at you, daring you to answer, mouthing silent 'go on' in the most taunting voice she could.

"Yes! That's good!" Your voice was shaky and you knew he will notice.

He wasn't really caring, just curious, so he had to know everything. His first sentence sounded cute, like he really cared, but you figured out he's making fun of you as soon as you heard the other questions. "Are you crying? What, you weren't invited to some lame party? Or a boy you know for a week broke up with you?"

And what were you supposed to say? -'No, your best friend is fucking me for... probably more than an hour now, and her dick is probably bigger than yours, so I can't control my tears'

"Yeah, something lik- Oh, fuck off!" You screamed back, succeeding to pretend you're really hurt because of one of the pathetic things he accused you for.

He laughed. "Mhm- Whatever!"

The footsteps climbed up stairs and got silent. Ellie bit her bottom lip, holding back a chuckle.

"Does he really think of you so low?" Her hips slowed down again, but became more precise. "You did good, don't worry. It'll be over soon."

#ellie williams x reader #ellie williams #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams x you #ellie x reader #ellie x y/n #ellie tlou #reqs open #wlw smut #ellie the last of us #bbf!ellie #bbf!ellie williams #bbf!ellie x reader #bbf!ellie williams x reader #brother's best friend #thank you nonnie #i love you nonnie #send anons

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sharkorok · 10 months

Text

heeseung w/ an inexperienced s/o

cw/genre: this is fluff!!! fluff!!, headcanon format, cursing, fboi au, campus au ig…(?), like one dirty joke or whatnot teeheehoohoo, informal writing, that should be it (I think)

requested: X

a/n: this grown man has me so delulu so take this 😋

•-•-•-•

-u are well known for being notoriously bad at expressing affection or being in relationships

-you can’t do casual relationships this man once said “hey baby” and you were like “so I think we should lowk end things cuz why u calling me bby…kinda weird dawg…”

-UR JUST SO AWKWARDDDD ITS EMBARRASSING (I’ll write ur character development soon dw)

-anyways so you go to a party and you see heeseung who is notorious for being the craziest charmer ever like he could see an acorn on the ground and seduce it

-he strikes up conversation with you to see what the fuss is all about, he saw a person once talk about how ur so hot w a cold heart but he immediately realized you’re just awkward skssksksks

-he realizes he literally fell in love with you the second he tried to flirt and you were just …? while laughing awkwardly

-so after a month of you flitting around his charming gestures, looking down shyly or avoiding eye contact when he tries to rizz u up, he gets the courage to just straight up ask, “do you like me?”

-and when you explain that u don’t rlly know and u don’t really get into relationships he’s like OKKK LETS TRY THEN!! because he’s so madly in lov w you cuz ur so cute to him

-ok so boom dating!

-he purposely pushes your buttons to see just how much you can squirm, watching you stammer when he has you pressed against a wall gives him a power trip he didn’t think anyone could be this adorable

-and also u as a person…he’s so in love (dreamily)

-no one understands your relationship like, “how does y/n survive heeseung they can’t even say the word baby without cringing”

-ur not innocent or anything ur just new to affection and stuff so it freaks u out a little!!

-he always asks about boundaries before hand or makes sure you’re comfortable when you two are hanging out. the first time you two were cuddling he would ask every now and then if you were alright

-“you just make me nervous, hee” “don’t be nervous baby, it’s just me.”

-you didn’t realize how nice it felt to be loved within your comfort zone, and how nice it was to have someone hold your hand when it was pushed a little

-he’s gonna tease u tho sorry “loser virgin s/o and popular fboi boyfriend what wattpad story are we coming from”

-defends you to death if anyone criticizes the way you two date, he’s happy with you and if anyone tries to say otherwise he’s all up for arguing with them in a parking lot (￣▽￣)

-he loves you so so much and he dgaf about how slow he has to take it!!

-he takes you on lots of different dates to see what you like and what you don’t like, slowly initiates PDA to see if you’re okay w it or what freaks you out, he’s okay w taking the lead

-got him proud when you explain yourself tho, it means he’s doing a good job as your boyfriend if you’re comfortable explaining your boundaries and understanding them!! (in the least patronizing way possible)

-one time you two were making out and you put your hands on his chest, looking up at him and shaking your head, “I don’t think I want to continue yet.”

-and like a good boyfriend he is he reassured you he dgaf and that you two can just cuddle on the couch for the rest of the night or he could sit five feet away from you and not speak!!! whatever you say he listens bae

-never pushes you for affection, it pisses him off when people say the relationship is one sided, he doesn’t get insecure about whether or not you love him dw

-you say “I love you” every now and again later in your relationship to reassure him just in case tho, which is always super special to him and makes him fly over the moon *bawls eyes out*

-I did not mean for this to be this long ok anyways he’s yours and he knows it and your his and he knows that too <3

#enhypen x reader #enhypen scenarios #enhypen reactions #enhypen drabbles #enhypen headcanons #enhypen fluff #enhypen imagines #lee heeseung x reader #lee heeseung fluff #lee heeseung imagines

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sugumii · 4 months

Note

Could I request Gepard, Blade, Welt, and Jing Yuan reacting to their s/o telling them a long speech about how they'd trek through a blizzard, sail or swim through the seas, and fight an Aeon for them?

Dramatically Confessing your love to HSR Boys! Edition: One

Gepard:

Pink dusted the blonde’s cheeks after hearing your sudden confession. The way you stood triumphantly after such a loving declaration had him feeling even shyer. Just how were you able to sputter such words and be completely unfazed by it? His mind raced and his heartbeat quickened.

He took a deep breath.

"I-... I'm flattered... really. But what's the reason for saying this all of a sudden?" He said, hiding his flushed cheeks with his gloved hand. You chuckled at his display, heart warm from his cuteness.

"No particular reason! I just wanted to express my love to you." You stepped in front of him and leaned your face closer to his. Your smile grew at how the blonde's body leaned back in embarrassment with his eyes wide.

"Y/n, not now... I'm on duty." Gepard protested, eyes averting from your attractive smile. God... just the mere look on your face was enough to send butterflies to his stomach. He shut his eyes tightly, hating the shyness he felt right now. He was the captain of the Silvermane guards for crying out loud! He was strong and assertive! Not so... shy and easily flustered.

"Oh really?" You countered, leaning in closer to him just to where your nose nearly touched his. His eyes snapped open and looked at you in bewilderment. His blush grew a darker pink and he murmured incoherent words.

"What was that, Geppie?" You teased him more, clearly enjoying the reactions you were getting out of your lover. It was so terribly easy to make him all shy and flustered after all.

"Fuck..." He cursed, cheeks now burning at the stubborn blush adorning his face. The effect you had on him... the chokehold you had him in... it was just too much! He finally regained his composure and embraced you suddenly much to your surprise. You instantly went to wrap your arms around his back but before you could, he whispered into your ear before rushing off back to his patrol area. The words he muttered to you caused a bright red blush to cover your cheeks.

"Just wait until I get home from work later."

___

Blade:

"...?"

Blood-red eyes burned into you emotionlessly after your long proclamation of love. The silence, now starting to be a bit awkward, was getting to you. You sweated nervously at this as you avoided your boyfriend's blank gaze. Had this been a bad idea after all? Perhaps saying you'd fight an aeon was too much... especially since you mentioned you'd ‘throw hands’ with Elio if he actually fulfilled Blade's wish in the end.

Uh oh.

Perhaps that was indeed a dumb idea.

Before you could continue to overthink a deep chuckle snapped you out of your thoughts causing your heart to flutter. Wait.., was Blade laughing!? At you!? Your eyes immediately snapped up to his face and as suddenly as the laughter escaped his throat the second it vanished. His attractive and masculine face had returned to its usual blank expression as he stared at you from his position on the bed.

"You're quite the character... aren't you?' His deep voice spoke, cutting through the silence. His voice had a hint of amusement but hid well in his monotone tone.

You blinked with a racing heart.

"...You laughed. Should I be offended or find that endearing? Cause I kinda confessed my love to you and you just laughed at me.”

A scoff escaped your lover's throat and his dark eyes narrowed at you. He leaned against the wall with crossed arms while sitting on the opposite end from you.

"Take it as you please. Your confessions are always peculiar."

You pouted at his words, scooting closer to him and promptly lying your head down on his lap. He made no objections, being used to your sudden gestures, and settled for gently placing a hand on your head. Your heart sped up at the feeling of his gloved hand making contact with your hair. His thighs surprisingly felt rather soft and plump… a stark contrast to his hard chest.

"But that does not imply I don't enjoy them." He commented, now studying the blush adorning your cheeks. You moved to hide your face in his lap. Just how can he say such things and be so nonchalant about it? No fair…

"Quiet, bully. I'm shy now..."

A deep hum escaped his throat and an amused glint appeared in his eyes while studying you. His hand continued stroking your hair and he shook his head with a sigh.

"I suppose I too would fight an aeon for you. I'd fight with all my might this body offers with anyone who dares to stand in my way from you..." He closed his eyes when you opened yours to sneak a peek at him. Just the slightest hint of a smile on his face which made your heart jump.

"Is that what you wished to hear?"

___

Welt:

"You'd... do what and what now?" Confused brown eyes gave you a look over. The tall male stood in front of you with a look of… concern. What... were you on about exactly? Welt was so lost at your need to confess your desire to... fight a flaming dragon covered in poison while swimming the seven seas to get to him?

"I'm a bit lost on why you would uhm... need to do this, to begin with, dear? Care to explain?"

You frowned playfully at your lover's obliviousness. You found it a bit funny to be fair how he took what you said literally (I mean who's to say you wouldn't do it) but... Welt's always been a bit dense when it came to your way of flirting.

"I said what I said. I'd fight a dragon for you and sail the sea to get your love. You mean a lot to me so... I just wanted to express that! In my own weird way." You chuckled, scratching your neck awkwardly.

Welt blinked and pushed his glasses up.

"I... see. Well, in that case, I'd fight a dragon for you too my dear." He said with a small smile as your eyes brightened up at him. The way his chest swelled with happiness at your cute expressions was just too much for his poor old heart. He truly adored you so much.

"Really!? Even a flaming dragon covered in poison?" You inquired curiously.

He chuckled again and nodded with a growing smile.

"If that's what it takes, love. Then yes, I would."

You happily hugged him and snuggled your face into his chest, relishing in the warmth his long and strong arms provided when they returned the embrace. The familiar scent of coffee from Himeko's fresh morning brew lingered on his clothes causing you to take another deep inhale. It smelled so good... but definitely didn't taste as sweet as it smelled.

"I love you, Welt."

He smiled gently, patting your head.

"I love you too, my dear."

____

Jing Yuan:

An amused chuckle escaped the general's throat as he sat on his chair. You were currently standing in front of him dramatically posing after barging into his office midday to interrupt his work with your "important" proclamation. He rested a hand on his cheek and leaned against the desk with an entertaining grin.

"Oh? And I'd fight two dragons for you and swim the seas myself to find you, my love." He challenged you, one-upping your previous confession. Your lips curved into a mischievous grin at your boyfriend's playfulness. Ever since you dated him you noticed he had a childish side too. He always went along with your immature schemes which you loved. He was truly so fun to be around despite his serious title. You stepped closer to him.

"Just two? I'd fight 100 dragons for your love and sail the sea for YEARS just to get to you. Beat that." You snorted.

His grin widened and his golden eyes stared at yours with a confident gaze. Oh, it was on.

"I'd defeat any enemy that stood before my path and sail for an eternity if it meant merely gazing at your gorgeous face once more..."

You flushed at that comment but refused to back down. A comeback… you needed a comeback! You racked your brain for a response to top his as your boyfriend watched you in amusement. His cat like smile widening a bit and in his mind he knew he had won: checkmate.

“Might I say, you’re so adorable when trying to beat me, my dear.” He commented, relishing in the way your eyes widened and stared at him like a deer in headlights. Had he really just called you out like that!? So embarrassing…

He continued.

“I suppose that means that I won. Another victory to add to our past history.”

You pouted and stomped out his office, ignoring his arrogant call to you.

“Next time, be prepared to fight 200 dragons for me!”

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raitonsfw · 5 months

Text

𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍𝚗'𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚒𝚝 '𝚝𝚒𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚍 | 𝚍𝚊𝚣𝚊𝚒 𝚘𝚜𝚊𝚖𝚞

synopsis: Dazai has gifted you many things in the years that you’ve known him. Jewelry, books, clothes, lingerie… Anything that he thought suited you. When you wear one of his gifts to the agency without thinking, it was just supposed to be another day at work. But little did you know that the reason why Dazai bought you the black dress was that it was for his eyes and his eyes only. And not to mention the matching set that you wore underneath it practically sparkled in the luminosity of the office.

warnings: 18+ mdni, fem!reader, smut, exhibitionism, embarrassment, lingerie, fingering, dirty talk, teasing, slight degradation, dazai's a little mean, petnames (sweetheart, baby, darling, dear), use of honorifics.

a/n: dazai basically fingers the reader on the train ride home cuz he just couldn't wait. my friend gave me this idea and it was so fun to write. nice to write fem!readers again after writing character ships for so long. defs needed a breather. wc: 2.2k. m.list

divider credit: @benkeibear

The train wasn’t too busy, though to you it seemed like everyone and their mother took this exact train in order to spite you. You don’t know why Dazai had insisted on taking the train from the agency today, the hurriedness of it confusing you even more. Normally the both of you would walk the streets of downtown Yokohama in order to get home, stopping to sightsee and shop a bit along the way. Sometimes he’d buy you dinner on the edge of the river, other days he’d bring you to your favorite bookstore.

But today he was absolutely restless to get home, with quicker footing than usual and a hush to his voice. You were filled with concern because of this. He was never quiet, the boy was like a walking radio to you as he’d chatter (or sing) away the afternoon about anything and everything. When you both reached the station and past the people that crowded it, his lips were bitten red and he kept a hand pressed against your lower back, ushering you into the train carefully.

Fortunately for you, you both had ended up on the last train where barely anyone sat. Most of the people you had pushed through earlier sat up near the front of the train car and onwards, filling the spaces with awkward silence. Dazai snagged a seat to your left, next to the divider of the sliding doors. He leaned into it as the train made its way down the tracks, crossing his leg over his other with his hands folded neatly in his lap.

“Dazai-san, are you okay?” You asked, your voice a bit dry as you hadn’t spoken much since you left the agency. Putting a hand on his thigh to soothe his bouncing leg, he turned to you with a slight flinch but quickly registered your hand’s warmth and gave you a small grin.

“Never been better,” Dazai said, the fakeness of the smile evident. “Why do you ask?”

“You’ve seemed quieter than usual.”

“I just can’t wait to get home.” He sighed out gently, whimsicality etching his tone.

One of his hands had come to rest on yours and he rubbed it lovingly. He seemed calmer than before, but something was still bothering him. You decided to backtrack the day in your head; you two didn’t do much today at the agency.

You had looked over some of the papers Kunikida had assigned to you, ran a small errand with Atsushi, and watched Dazai successfully manage to steal a sweet from Ranpo without him knowing. Nothing else out of the ordinary stuck out to you and you frowned a little, still unsure as to why Dazai was being so weird.

“You can tell me if something’s bothering you.” You frowned at him and it looked like he almost caved, his mouth falling open to speak. But you second guessed yourself as he shut it quickly, his eyes falling past your lips.

Something was bothering him, but he didn’t have the heart to tell you. He didn’t have the heart to tell you that the dress you put on exposed your lingerie in the most discreet of places. The agency’s lights did you no justice, making the crimson colored set pop out underneath the dusky sheerness of your dress. Perhaps if he had been walking behind you in the evening glow of the sun, he would’ve had to fuck you behind a bush on the way home.

No one else noticed it, too preoccupied in their work to even give you a glance other than to say hi and if they did...well Dazai would’ve known. He watched you like a hawk all day, making sure no one mentioned it to you, partially in fear of embarrassment but mostly because he didn’t want you to change.

But yeah, something was bothering him and that was his dick.

The entire day he was hard, was aching for you to look at him and realize what you did to him. He curled up in the corner of the couch with his knees almost pressed to his chest, hiding the bulge as much as he could for most of the day. But you were too busy to pay attention to him being the hell of a worker you are; of course you couldn’t possibly have noticed his predicament– the predicament you caused.

Not even when he pulled his overcoat over his lap when you talked to him about past missions, you didn’t bat an eye. Not when his sentences faltered a few times during a meeting with Fukuzawa, did you even think to ponder why. And definitely not when he dashed off to the restroom more than a few times (only to come back with a bit of an attitude), did you realize that you were the cause of his pressing situation.

He couldn’t quite catch a break today, could he? You walked into the office, knowing damn well he gifted you that dress with a mischievous smirk plastered on his face. He even wrapped the bow on the gift box neatly, paired it with little explicit intent that it was for him. And not to mention that matching set you were wearing, also courtesy of his lust for you. The red lace peeked out just enough from the cut of the dress and he had to hold back the gasp that left his mouth when he recognized what lingerie set it was. You were decked out in his finest picks, innocently running around the office with papers falling from your arms whilst sucking up to Kunikida’s hellish requests.

“Y/N-san, you wore the dress I bought for you.” He pointed out, a bit uncertain of how to explain to you that it was sheer. “It’s beautiful on you.”

Your face lit up at the compliment. “I am! To be honest, I had nothing else to wear and I decided this would be a nice change. Instead of my regular pantsuits.”

“Would I be an asshole if I tell you it’s see through?” Dazai decided to come straight out, chuckling lightly. He watched your face fall and he immediately regretted telling you. Maybe he should’ve waited until you guys got home.

“No way, it’s not!”

“And that red number you’ve been wearing is...” He continued in a seductive whisper, leaning closer into you. “Why do you think I bought it, sweetheart?”

“I wore it in front of the entire agency, Dazai-san!” You hissed out, the embarrassment reddening against your neck and you attempted to hide it beneath the collar of the dress. No wonder he gawked at you the entire day, no wonder he stumbled through his sentences, no wonder he rushed you to the train station, no wonder he-

“Oh, please. Someone would’ve told you if it was extremely noticeable.” He could turn this around. He was an expert at that, his fingers tracing up your delicate sleeve. Dazai brought your hand to his lips and pressed a light kiss on the back of it, his eyes louring as he looked at you from his peripherals. “On the other hand…I wish I told you sooner.”

“I’ve been holding back all day as you dumbly walked around the office like you damn near owned it." His right hand slipped underneath your dress, latching onto your thigh. “Thought of so many positions I could fuck you in…if only the supply closet was enough for you but you hate dark places. Maybe the president would’ve let us leave early, then I could’ve bent you over the-”

“Not so loud.” You shushed him, trying hard not to relinquish yourself to the warmth against your thigh. It was too late though, your arousal had you wrapped around his pretty little finger, yearning for more.

Dazai dropped your hand on his lap, pulling it over the bulge of his trousers. You palmed lightly at it without much thought, feeling the curve of his erection within its confines. “Look what you did to me, baby…Had me almost humping my hand with how good you looked. Not like you cared though since you were so busy with Atsushi-kun today.”

He huffed out a small whine as you pulled your hand away quickly, peeking around the corner to see if anyone saw his action. Everyone was still peering towards the front of the train car, idly scrolling through their phones or listening to music that was much too loud in the ear. The divider covered almost all of Dazai’s lap, a basic blind spot, but you were still nervous.

The feeling of his fingers grasping against your inner thigh shot you from your thoughts as they mingled upwards to the heat of your cunt. You were already dizzy with excitement but this couldn’t happen. Not in such a public place, the strangers amongst you would definitely hear your soft whimpers. Though the thought of that made you see stars, the adrenaline rushed in your blood and directly down to the pit of your abdomen. The heat pooled there, lingered as his lithe fingers pulled at the thin lace covering your clit.

“There’s people at the front of the train, we can’t just-” You whispered, trying to move away from his hand but he had already felt the wetness that collected against the naughty material. His fingers pushed through you delicately and you shuddered at the feeling, a quiet gasp leaving your mouth.

“I don’t think I can wait anymore, darling.” He pleaded quietly in your ear, nipping at the soft shell of it. He left a kiss behind your ear and gave you a small hush as a whine got stuck in the back of your throat. “If it makes you feel better, I can lay my coat over you.”

You nodded quickly and mere seconds later, his discarded coat was thrown over top of you to shield the neighboring passengers. His hand found its way back between your legs, in the exact position he had it before and you brought the sleeve of his coat up to your mouth to muffle your moans.

“D-Dazai-san…” You breathed out as his ring finger circled your clit whilst his pointer and middle plunged into you with no remorse. He kept a shallow pace, thrusting in and out slowly to avoid extra noise (though he wouldn't have minded hearing the way your slick sounded as you became wetter with each press of his fingers). His other hand held his phone out in front of you on your lap, scrolling mindlessly through social notifications– to distract the people around you. In case you got caught. Sneaky bastard.

“Look at what Kunikida-kun posted today on our website! He’s so savvy, isn’t he?” He beamed at you and you couldn’t even respond back, pleasure swirling around in your head as Dazai continued fucking his fingers into you. Changing his pace to unabating pressure that nestled against your clit, you squirmed in your seat. Your legs threatened to close against his arm but you forced them to stay open, near silent whimpers pouring from your mouth.

Dazai wanted to hear them, those pretty moans that he forced from you, but he picked pretty bad timing to teeter you off the edge of pure ecstasy. He loved the way you clenched tightly around his fingers as he found your sweet spot– your face contorted with a slight furrow to your eyebrows and you panted into his coat sleeve like it was your source of oxygen.

“Looks like there’s rain tonight, guess we can’t go on that walk anymore.” He pouted innocently and you felt your nerves screaming at you– faster, closer, so close you squeezed your eyes shut harshly at the growing pleasure. A moment later, you were falling apart against his fingers, desperate to keep quiet as your whole body shuddered in his palm. Your whole body tensed up as you let out a rather loud moan, much louder than you thought, though it was talked over by Dazai’s glorious distraction. He didn’t stop moving as you fluttered around his fingers and you gripped onto his bandaged wrist with a weak hand.

He slipped them out of you as you calmed down, a quiet sigh resonating through the fabric of the coat. You felt him wipe them off against the inner material of it and he stood up, stretching his arms up. Throwing on his coat smugly, he looked at you and offered his hand out. “Our stop’s coming up, dear.”

You knew you’d look like a deer in headlights if you stood up, still flushed from moments before. You took his hand though, wobbling as you gained your footing while the train decreased in speed. As you smoothed your dress down you remembered the reasoning why this all happened and you cleared your throat, a sheepish smile coming to light in the corners of your mouth.

“Let’s get you home quickly before the rain comes.” Dazai said as the train halted to a stop, the doors sliding open. He moved you in front of him, his palm flush to the small of your back again. As you stepped off the train, he leaned down to the shell of your ear to murmur something.

“Keep the dress on for me when I fuck you properly.” Just a reminder what’s his and his only.

a/n: wanna get tagged in future writing posts? join my taglist!

#𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚎 𝚠𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 •┈••✦#bungou stray dogs x reader #bsd x reader #bsd x you #dazai x reader #dazai x y/n #dazai x fem reader #dazai smut #bsd smut #bsd dazai #osamu dazai x reader #dazai osamu #dazaibsd #fem reader #𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚝𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚏𝚠 ✰

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missmeinyourbones · 6 months

Text

IN LITTLE WAYS, WHEN EVERYTHING STAYS

a/n: rei got the kids the fuck out of that house au, maybe a little prequel to my where love lives au? reader referred to as she & girlfriend a few times, sibling tendencies amongst the rokis

In the streaky reflection of his bedroom vanity, Touya's mind circulates the same thought over and over again.

His shirt looks stupid.

And he doesn't even know what it is exactly that's making him look so fucking weird right now, but he's annoyingly hyperaware of how stiff he looks.

It's just a shirt, a nice one, at that; it's been washed and ironed and its buttons all correlate with one another so why does it look so awkward on him right now?

Just as he's debating between loosening up the collar again or ripping it to pieces, the situation somehow gets at least ten times worse within a matter of mere seconds.

"Are you hanging out with your girlfriend again?"

Like muscle memory, Touya's eyes close in annoyance at the sound of his youngest brother's nasally voice. Not botching to spare him a glance, he chooses to tug at the stuffy shirt collar.

"She's not my girlfriend," is mumbled with what Shouto knows to be both embarrassment and agitation.

"Then why are you wearing that stupid shirt?"

Touya tries, he truly does, to just bite his tongue and be the adult in the situation. Technically (and legally), he is the adult in the situation, but something about the know-it-all ten-year-old always brings out the immaturity in him.

"I think you're lying," Shouto continues, matter-of-factly. Gaming console in hand as his attention darts between what's on the screen and what's reflected in his brother's mirror, "I don't even think she's real."

Touya looks to put out the match before it can even catch fire. In a few strides, he's trudging towards his door and swinging it into motion.

"She's more real than the tooth fairy, I can tell you that--"

Just before he can get the satisfaction of slamming the door in Shouto's dopey little face, a thick wrap of fingers catches the wood before it shuts on its hinges.

Natsuo pushes the door back open with ease, the look on his face clearly amused with the bickering he's heard. When he sees Touya's appearance, he can't help but squint his eyes and lowly whistle.

"Slick. You seein' the girlfriend tonight?"

Nearly seething now at the second intrusion, Touya growls, turning his back on the two idiots in his doorway and returning his attention to the mirror.

"Not my girlfriend," he flatly recites.

The taller brother leans against the doorframe with crossed arms and a smirk that reads no good.

"Is she not your girlfriend because you haven't asked her yet or because she knows she's out of your league?" Natuso's tongue prods at the inside of his cheek in entertainment.

With it now being two against one, Shouto sees his window of opportunity and snottily chimes in, "Probably both."

After a brief glance at his phone and realizing it's nearly time for him to pick you up, Touya doesn't even spare them a glance. He quickly shifts his focus on undoing the highest buttons of his dress shirt.

"Eat shit."

Silence naturally settles amongst the three of them. Natsuo and Shouto make no move to leave their post at the door anytime soon, attention still quietly following Touya as he huffs and puffs around his room, messing up his hair and pulling at his way too rigid selves.

Natsuo, brave as he always has been, is unsurprisingly the first one to break the silence.

"Where are you takin' her that you need to wear that stupid shirt?

Touya knows it's a harmless question, but it bothers him all the same.

"Dinner."

"Where?"

"New place downtown."

Natuso nods in approval, "Are you paying for her?"

"Am I being interrogated?"

"You're paying for her?" Shouto crinkles his nose, "With what money?"

Touya's head doesn't miss a beat as it whips around with a slight smirk, "The money I took from beneath your fuckin' mattress."

"That's not even funny because I don't keep it there anymore--"

The three of them internally wince when the familiar squeak of Fuyumi's bedroom door flings open. On cue, she's tiredly sighing and stomping her way over to the commotion.

Touya doesn't need to see the scowl on her face when he can hear her from down the hallway, "Can you all please shut up before mom--"

She cuts herself off, appearing in the reflection of Touya's mirror with a face that reads a mixture of disgust and confusion.

She looks him up and down, and with the grace that only a sister could carry, delivers the final blow to her eldest brother's ego.

"Ew, why do you look like that?"

That last drop of charity in Touya's tiny heart shrivels up and runs dry when he snaps. "For fuck's sake--like what?"

The three of them watch as their sister gives Touya another once over before meeting his stare directly and scowling.

"Your shirt looks stupid."

In the creaky and muggy second floor of the Todoroki household, the air weighs heavy with sibling stress. Fuyumi glares, Natsuo chokes on a giggle, and Shouto's jaw is on the floor when Touya pinches the bridge of his nose.

"Get the fuck out of my room or I'm setting the house on fire," he exhales rather calmly, given the nature of his alarming (yet common) threat.

Unimpressed, Fuyumi is the first to leave, immediately followed by Shouto who quietly asks her about his own dinner. Natsuo hangs back for a second, continuing to watch his brother rub his calloused hands over his tension-filled face.

Giving up, Touya reaches across his bed and tosses on his old and ratty denim jacket over his nice, stupid shirt. When he catches Natsuo's eye in the mirror, he approvingly nods and shoots his older brother an encouraging thumbs up before, he too, leaves.

It's not two minutes later before Touya's lanky legs are carrying him down the wooden staircase of the house. He's throwing his scuffed boots on, yelling out to Rei about being home before the sun comes up, and taking a final look at himself in the reflection of the porch window before reaching for the door knob.

"Touya," a gentle voice calls as he makes a beeline to leave. To no one's surprise, it's Fuyumi.

He sighs but stops in his tracks anyway, allowing her to quickly scurry over to him. Her nimble fingers rise to fix the cuffed collar of his jacket before she smoothens out his shoulders and pulls taut on his zipper.

When she's deemed he looks acceptable enough, her voice comes as a knowing whisper. "Just ask her already," she prompts.

Touya knows she's right, but he can't help the bite that crawls from his throat when he says, "And what do you know?"

Fuyumi merely smiles and takes a step aside, giving him her stamp of approval and letting him open the front door.

"She seems good for you," she says. Taking one final look at him before turning her back and returning to the kitchen, her voice is warm and proud, "You've started brushing your hair again."

#should i make a masterlist for this mini-series? (odds are i never touch it again LOL)#todobros #todofam #touya todoroki x reader #touya todoroki x you #dabi x you #dabi x reader #dabi fluff #touya todoroki fluff #dabi fic #touya todoroki fic

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358jours · 1 year

Text

Yanqing x GN!Reader⎢But I’m so ‘eepy

Word Count⎢1300

Genre/Tags⎢SFW, fluff, Reader is a big introvert and is sleep deprived, shopping dates, PDA, written and posted before game launch⎢Crossposted on AO3

You stifle another yawn as Yanqing drags you around. You’re holding hands, fingers laced together. He walks ahead of you, loud joy in his steps. He’s almost always sporting a smile in public, but the happiness radiating off of him right now is something else. He forced you out of your room today, and though you love his presence, your social battery can only last so long. At this point, you’re practically dead weight he’s carrying on his own.

Yanqing is an energetic young man, extroverted, optimistic, though perhaps a bit naive. He enjoys anything that has to do with swords the most such as taking care of them, training, competitions. He’s also a big spender on his hobbies, always ending up begging his father –or even you– to finance his basic needs. Many people are aware of who he is due to all that, and also the fact he’s the lieutenant.

You are the opposite. An introverted soul, sleep deprived, fond of staying inside. You tend to stay up far too late into the night, kept up by good video games, and bad decisions. “I can still play, like, fifteen minutes more”, cue three am beeping on your alarm clock after hours passed unnoticed. You could count on one hand those aware of who you are too. First General Jing Yuan, the leader of the Luofu himself, then an unnamed accountant, whose existence only matters for a single reason (your pay), and Yanqing himself. Perhaps Marshal Hua might count as well as she knows about everything, but you never met her personally.

Yanqing is the only person able to drag you out of your room for more than an hour, and the only person able to drag you out outside at all. Perhaps ‘drag you out’ is too strong a word as you always consent to going out with him, but your mood is a bit sour from your dead social battery and the fatigue in your body. As far as you’re aware, everyone on the Luofu market street has dubbed you “Yanqing’s sleepy partner” (You can’t really blame them, it would be quite awkward to ask “so what’s your name?” while your self-proclaimed knight in shining armor is right by your side). You have a very “cat and dog” personality contrast that makes people laugh, opposites attract or so they say.

Yanqing pulls you forward amidst the crowd. “Finally, we’ve arrived at the Artisanship Commission!”

You take a moment to take in the sight. The sun is high, barely two in the afternoon, and illuminates the red city radiantly, this shop as well. The view is beautiful, yes, but honestly your mind is so jaded, it’s hard to grasp reality. Hopefully this is the last stop for today, Aeons know you won’t survive if you don’t get your afternoon nap. You hear Yanqing's voice and– oh he’s talking to a vendor, nevermind. They seem to know each other, by the way they laugh at least.

You look over to the swords on display. They’re all impressive, a vast range of different colors and sizes. The one you like best is mainly clear blue and has a yin-yang on its guard, it looks pretty though perhaps a bit heavy for Yanqing? The second one is thinner, it’s mainly black with white and blue accents. It would look good in his hands. The one beside it is ew full-gold yellow, and though the color is less than attractive, the details forged on it are stunning.

You don’t notice the vendor handing Yanqing a sword. He lifts the hand you’re holding, and looks at you curiously. You let go sheepishly to which he only smiles. The vendor giggles. Ah, embarrassing.

You space out once more while Yanqing listens with grand attention to the explanations about the ki-controlled attacks the sword can perform. You’re kind of staring at him as he tests the sword through different movements, touching the blade with the tip of his finger. It looks alright, but the swords on display are prettier. He hands it back, the vendor leaves for a moment, and comes back with another. The same happens, and again, and again, and you feel your legs more and more. Trying not to yawn becomes harder and harder.

Your interest is peaked when the vendor brings him the sword with the yin-yang guard. They talk about the features again, he moves it a bit. He hums, does bigger movements, it seems he likes this one too. You rest your head against his shoulder “I like this one.”

He shifts his head slightly. “Really?”

“Yeah. It’s pretty and it goes well with your outfit. You should take a dark gray scabbard to go with it.”

Yanqing hums. He looks at the sword one last time before handing it back. “Alright, I’ll take two, and two dark gray scabbards.”

The vendor looks very surprised, but happily obliges. They shuffle, occupied in preparing his purchases. Your partner sports a smile on his face, his happiness showing through his proud stance. You don’t fight your yawn this time, and close your eyes. You open them soon after at the sound of a pathetic whine and your name however. Yanqing’s face is contorted in dread. You’re a bit confused about what is wrong, your mind foggy— oh.

His wallet is completely empty.

You laugh loudly, which makes him even more embarrassed. “Hey, come on! How am I supposed to pay now? And I already said I was taking it home too…” But it only worsens your fit. You grip onto his arm to not fall. The vendor comes back, and Yanqing hastily hides the hollow pouch. He looks at the vendor worriedly as you continue laughing against him.

“You two are adorable together. Mind repeating your joke?” The vendor smiles at you both.

“Yeah, thank you. Uh.” Yanqing let out an embarrassed laugh as he scratched the back of his neck.

You recover enough to hand your credit card to the vendor. “He forgot his money at home.” Yanqing stutters as the vendor snorts. You’re handed back your card, and your partner receives his new swords. He carries them with his left arm while his right hand is occupied, as he refuses not to hold hands with you whenever you are out.

You walk together for a bit, saying nothing. He’s not dragging you everywhere like before anymore, thankfully. The sun is still high, but at least forty minutes have passed, if not more. Yanqing is the first to break the silence, “You should name it, the sword. But it’s important so you should think deeply about it, yeah?”

You hum, your mind occupied by other priorities. You pull him in a direction. “Nap time.”

“What?!” He’s taken aback, clearly confused and in shock. “No way I’ll let you name it that!”

You pull him again and— push him to sit on a bench? He’s still lost, looking at you for clarification. He’s by the far side while you go sit in the middle. He’s about to ask more when you suddenly lay down. Your head goes to rest on his lap. “Nap time, wake me up in one hour or if it starts raining.”

Yanqing opens his mouth and closes it, still confused although now flustered. “Really? Right here, right now? I thought you disliked being in public.”

You hum a bit, shifting, making yourself comfortable on the hard bench. It would take longer than one hour before getting sunburned right? So this is probably fine. Between the sun high in the sky, the soft breeze, and the comfort of Yanqing, you don’t think you’ll have much trouble resting in public. “Bed is too far, and I’m so ‘eepy.”

He huffs, although there’s a smile on his face. “Alright.”

#yanqing x reader #HSR Yanqing x reader #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #star rail x reader #honkai x reader #x reader #nekonohanashi

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marwolaeth-76 · 6 months

Note

Hi (⁠ ⁠◜⁠‿⁠◝⁠ ⁠)⁠♡, Can you make a one shot of Veneer with a female reader, where the reader is also a singer (solo) but Veneer tries to get closer to her, in every possible way until at one point the attraction between the two of them is so noticeable that in interviews they begin to ask them about it, and in the end they start a relationship.

Hi!! thank you for your request and thank you for waiting, I hope you like it🩷 and I want to apologize for waiting request other people, I’m sick right now so I don’t have the strength to write😢

Veneer x !FemReader stars fell in love with each other

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

You take a deep breath as you walk down the halls of build preparing for your interview. Ever since your debut single dropped, your life has been a whirlwind. Fans, photoshoots, awards shows - it's all so exciting but also overwhelming at times. As you near the stage, you spot a familiar face in the crowd. Veneer gives you a small grin. Your heart skips a beat, you've been growing closer to the star singer over the past few months. Between running into each other at events and bonding over the pressures of fame, you've found yourself developing feelings for him. The interview goes well until the host notices your lingering glances at Veneer. "Soo tell me - are you two there is something between you?" Kid Ritz ask slyly, crossing one leg over the other, raising an eyebrow questioningly. You it’s hard to hide your nervousness, a chill of embarrassment runs down your spine, you should have guessed that such embarrassing questions cannot be avoided, people love drama, especially between stars. Before you can stammer a response, Veneer speaks up. "We just care for each other", -he says with a warm smile in your direction. "But for now, we're just enjoying each other's company and support as we both navigate this new chapter in our lives and careers." - His tone is calm, he must have planned this answer, it’s not just that he’s sitting among the audience? although maybe it's just a coincidence. His words are reassuring yet leave the door open for something more. After the show, you share a private moment backstage. "Before you think I'm a heartless ladies' man", - Veneer began to speak in his usual mannered voice. "I..I meant what I said earlier" - Veneer says softly, taking your hand in his. "You know? I really like you, It was already difficult for me to keep it to myself. Everything is happening so fast, I can’t say that I’m unhappy with it" To say that you are in shock is not enough to say, no, of course you dreamed of this, but to really have Veneer feel the same feelings for you as you do? You stand there like a real fool, staring at the guy with wide eyes for almost a full minute before coming to your senses, catching the slightly embarrassed expression on the singer's face. You beam up at him. "Um!..I like you too? this is so awkward, I'm sorry, Don’t get me wrong, I’ve really kind of... fallen in love with you for a long time.." Leaning in, your lips stretched out in an embarrassed smile, Your heart conquers the normal rate of beats per second, you pull the guy in to kiss him on the cheek. "Ohh only on the cheek?" - Veneer asks with a note of mischief, the slight nervousness left his face, although you could swear that his hand you were holding was shaking slightly, he looking at you with his sparkling blue eyes. Looking away slightly to the side, you shake your head, raising your eyebrows and answer excited: "everything has its time)" While love brings challenges, you're glad to face them with Veneer by your side.

♡♡♡

uhhh i really wrote little, srr, bad health does not allow me to think of something normally 😤

#veneer x reader #trolls band together #trolls veneer #velvet and veneer #trolls 3 #fluff #veneer trolls #velvet trolls

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eddiernunson · 7 months

Text

Really Drives Me Mad | Older!Eddie x Reader | 18+

Previous Part | Master List | Next Part

Big thank you to @forget-you-morelike-fuck-you for editing, you really are the best!

Thank you to @bebe07011 for all your encouragement

Thank you to @names-were-taken ... you know what you did.

Word Count: 10.3k

Warnings: road head, breeding kink, daddy!kink, family awkwardness

Authors note: Guys I appreciate all your patience, truly I do. I was so damn busy these last two months, and I barely had the time or the motivation to write. It's more of a filler chapter, we get some good stuff next one. I'm still quite busy, but I got a fire in me to continue this story. Don't worry, I plan on continuing to the end. There's about two or three more chapters planned. As they say: life happens when you're busy making plans.

You sit on the couch cross legged, watching a movie under a big blanket with Eddie right next to you. He’s relaxed in the corner, arm sitting on the back cushion as he half pays attention to the movie. You’re telling him about work, some drama between two co-workers that has the entire workplace turned on its head.

Eddie wipes his hands of the butter from his popcorn, finishing a handful before he speaks. “Oh, yeah, one of my apprentices just quit, so I’m interviewing a few guys next week.”

For some reason, it doesn’t occur to you that because Eddie owns the shop, he’s also their boss, and therefore, has to hire and interview people. “Cool.”

Something in your tone forces Eddie’s head to tilt towards you. You see this out of the corner of your eye and break into a wide smile, giggling. “What’s…what’s this about?”

“It’s nothing.” You insist, way too fast for it to not be nothing.

“Ok, now you’ve gotta tell me.” Eddie insists, turning his entire body to face you.

“You’re gonna think it’s dumb.”

“What?” Eddie yelps out in surprise. “Of course I won’t think it’s dumb!”

“Promise you won’t laugh?” You pout.

Eddie sighs, you’re just hopelessly adorable to him. And he’s hopelessly in love. So of course, he says “I promise, I won’t laugh.”

“I just didn’t really think about you owning the shop, meaning that you’re their boss, and you have to do interviews.” You admit, aware of his brown eyes on you. “I never imagined you on the other side of a desk. But…” you stutter, clenching your thighs. “…then I did.” You laugh, embarrassed. “Then I became aware of how fast it took for me to picture it and I smiled.”

It’s a lot for Eddie to process at once. “Wait, so you thought of all of that in those two seconds?” Eddie asks, as an eyebrow rises in astonishment.

You nod, continuing to munch on your popcorn. “Yeah…”

“…So what did you think of me behind that desk?” He asks, biting his lip as his voice gets real low. One part of him wants to rile you up, but the other is genuinely curious.

You giggle, watching through half lidded eyes as his lips lean in to kiss you. Your tongues meet sweetly, his darkened stare making you feel drunk on love. “I—” The feeling of your phone buzzing underneath your thigh interrupts you, Eddie sighing as he reluctantly pulls back. “Wait!” you whine.

He chuckles. “Answer your phone. I promise, I’ll be just as curious after.”

Somehow it hasn’t gone to voicemail, yet. Your hand fishes it out from under your leg, the word Mom and her picture illuminating the screen. Fuck. You wince, wishing for three minutes ago when you were breathing in Eddie’s intoxicating scent. Your thumb hesitantly presses the answer button, “Hi, mom.”

“Oh, well you do answer!” There’s a sass in her voice right out the gate, and you instinctively cringe, understanding the type of phone call you’re about to have with her.

“I do work, mom. You happen to keep calling when I’m at work. Then, when I do call you back, you never answer!” You answer, watching Eddie’s brows furrow. It’s the first he’s hearing about this round about game you have with your mom when it comes to phone calls and you’ve never brought it up because the topic alone causes an abundance of stress for you. “Please tell me why you called, or was it to just yell at me?”

“Oh I’m not yelling.” She dismisses you, not unusual for her, yet you still roll your eyes and grit your teeth in frustration. “I would, however, like to meet your boyfriend…looks like you two are getting serious…your aunts have found your page.”

“So they’ve seen…what? His ankle tattoo?” You ask, referring to the photo where Eddie is just stepping out of frame on purpose. Nothing about your Instagram account is a mistake for the moment, if anything just to spite his ex.

“The walk-in closet.” Your mom answers, and you gotta admit, that arch of a full body mirror in his (your) walk-in has become your favorite place to take a photo for the moment. “Even if I don’t approve, I just want to meet him. Bring him to supper. He can bring some family, if he wants. The more, the merrier!”

This sounds like your own personal version of hell. Judgemental aunties, drunk uncles, annoying cousins, and your mom all with Eddie? Throw him to the wolves, why don’t you? “Mom, why don’t we hold off your sisters for now? Let’s just introduce him to our family, and he can introduce you to his.” You suggest alternatively, barely holding in a laugh as Eddie’s shoulders relax, unashamedly eavesdropping on your conversation, not that you mind.

“You know, they’re not patient women.”

You laugh, nodding your head in full agreement. “Yeah, I know. Neither are you, and neither am I, neither is Viti. Runs in your family.” You roll your eyes.

Eddie nods in agreement, thinking of the initiative you took when he first met you and laughing silently to himself. Then his nose scrunches. Who’s Viti?

You turn to face Eddie as you talk on the phone, trying to make out what he’s mouthing to you. “Just send me a date and a time and I’ll try to get them over there.” What? You mouth back to him.

“Who’s Viti?” He whispers, still confused.

Wait, who’s Viti? You stare at him blankly, holding up a finger to finish the conversation with your mom as she responds. “Uh, I’m working Friday, and Eddie’s working Saturday…is middle of the week undoable?”

You hold the receiver, getting an answer that starts with “Well” is always going to be long-winded before getting to the point with your mom. “Viti is my little sister!” You whisper to Eddie. Upon seeing the genuine look of surprise you can tell he never knew about her.

You put the phone back to your ear, catching the end of “I suppose we could do Wednesday…”

You cover the phone receiver. “Can you get Steve in the state on Wednesday?” Eddie nods wordlessly, no doubt in his mind. “Wednesday works!” You cover the receiver again and remove the phone from your ear as she finishes with a long-winded goodbye. “How did you not know I had a sister?”

Eddie shrugs, also wondering. “Never came up, I guess?”

You consider this answer, recalling any acceptable times to bring it up. “That’s true, I suppose.” You put the phone back to your ear, “So, I’ll see you next Wednesday?”

“See you then! 7pm, don’t be late!”

You hang up your phone, falling backwards on the couch in frustration. “Ugh!”

“Would it be ludicrous to say that that did not kill my boner at all?” Eddie asks, slightly surprised himself.

You laugh, shaking your head as he makes his way back to where you sit on the couch. “Still wanna hear about it?”

He lays you down, nodding as he leans in for a kiss. “Tell me everything, baby.”

It’s Wednesday, unfortunately, and you make your way over to your parents’ house, a twenty minute drive down the highway. Yesterday it became evident how nervous Eddie is, dancing around the subject and being more lovey with you than usual, as if that were even possible. Now, he sits with his shoulders locked and face staring dead ahead as he gulps through his nerves. “Baby, are you okay?” You hesitate to ask, but can’t help it.

“Oh, just terrified.” Eddie admits, knowing just how much rides on this one supper. “Something just occurred to me…how…how old is your dad?”

“Oh…” you shift in the passenger seat into a more comfortable position. “I think he’s 53 or 54. I don’t remember which one he turns this year.”

“Oh, thank god.” Eddie sighs, relieved, closing his eyes momentarily. “If your dad was younger I could only fucking imagine…what a shit show that would’ve been.”

“My mom is the same age as you, now that I think about it.” You say, wondering how that was a detail that hadn’t occurred to you before. “She graduated in 94’, which, correct me if I’m wrong, is the year you would’ve, too.”

“Well, shit.” Eddie mutters. He hasn’t done a meet the parents dinner where he was the one meeting the parent in fucking forever. So long ago, in fact, it was borderline humorous.

For some reason, Eddie seemed to look extra scrumptious, dressed to impress and smelling fantastic. Even as he looks nervous, he looks ten times better than any confident man. “You know what would help you feel better?” You ask, placing a hand on his knee.

You think you might have to be more upfront about it, but just from your tone alone Eddie is tenting his pants. “What’s that sweetheart?” He asks anyway, playing dumb, wanting to hear you say it.

“If I sucked you off on the way?”

Eddie huffs his lips out, pretending to consider it. Honestly, he can’t even pretend. He breaks into a chuckle. “Put those pretty lips on my cock.”

You smile in satisfaction as you immediately move to unzip Eddie’s nice slacks and slip his cock out. “You’re already hard” You accuse him playfully. It’s such a damn compliment to you.

You’re in a lusted-out haze as you bend over to take him in your mouth, your shoulder awkwardly colliding with the steering wheel. The possibility of anyone passing in a car big enough to see you in Eddie’s clear windowed vehicle was too much of a turn on for you not to dissect it eventually. His cock reaches your throat, the sounds of you gagging on him repeatedly and your muscles twitching around him make him want to tilt his head back and close his eyes.

“Oh she’s just letting herself be fucked in the throat where anyone can see, huh?” Eddie mutters, his free hand moving through your hair. “Showing everyone how good of a slut you are.”

The words certainly help your ambition, and you start to bob up and down on him, sucking the life out of him with your wet slurps.

“Everyone gets a view but no one gets to know but me.” One of your hands start to play with his balls, moving them around as you lick and slobber all over him before pulling back, taking a breath break. Eddie lifts eyes up momentarily, smirking. “Oh you just gave that semi trucker a fucking hard on, baby I hope you know that.”

You glance sideways, your hand still wrapped on Eddie's cock, seeing the tail end of a white semi truck. You smile up at him and continue, the thought of some random dude being jealous of Eddie because of you was cool. You were only the cool girlfriend who likes to give road head because he’s a good boyfriend, anyhow. You hope he knows that.

“That turn you on?” You shake your head, the nuance too much to discuss while his cock still sits in your mouth. “Does him seeing it turn you on?” You smirk at him, taking a breath as your hand moves up and down his length. Now, for the big guns. You accept him to the back of your throat easily, the deep throating becoming one of your favorite past times with him. “Oh I’m gonna—"

You swallow every last drop that he has to offer when he spills into your mouth, almost too much as some dribbles down your chin. No, not too much. Never too much. You collect the dribble and put it in your mouth, licking your fingers clean. You hum in contentment over the salty taste, sitting back in your seat.

“Jesus christ.” Eddie mutters, still gripping the steering wheel with an iron fist. “That certainly made me feel a lot better.”

In hindsight, Eddie was right to feel anxious for it, just not for the reasons anybody could ever reasonably guess.

When you get there with five minutes to spare, Dylan and Steve are already in your parent’s driveway, both bearing smiles on their faces as they laugh about something.

Eddie finally finishes buckling himself up once the truck pulls up and you get out right away to distract (and to hug, of course), thanking Steve for making it on such short notice. Out of view, Steve’s SUV passenger door slams shut. “Dad, do you think her parents are as stuffy as she says they are or—” Arlo Harrington stops the moment he notices you’re there.

Eddie was hesitant to extend the offer to Arlo, but after he asked you with the disclaimer that Arlo is his god child and he considers family…it was hard to refuse. While you knew Arlo was going to be there, you just didn’t expect him to be a carbon copy of the version of Steve you saw in the photo on Eddie’s facebook.

Whatever genes are in those Harringtons, those curls run deep, every one of his kids had them from the photos. “Hi, Arlo. Nice to meet you.” You hold out a hand, diffusing the tension.

“Thanks for letting me tag along.” He pulls you in once he grabs your hand to shake it, muttering, “Couldn’t resist a show.”

You pull back, seeing a younger Steve in him. “Damn. This is your kid alright.” You confirm to Steve, letting go of Arlo’s hand.

Steve laughs, rolling his eyes. “Yeah, that’s my son.”

Eddie jogs up behind you, wrapping his arm around your shoulder as he carries a bottle of white wine. “Look who finally showed up.” Steve announces, wondering if he’s picturing the flush in Eddie’s face.

“Sorry, I needed a minute to gather my courage. We’re 3 minutes past 7, let’s go.” He mutters to you, causing you to roll your eyes.

“God, I’m not going to hear the end of those three minutes, she’ll hold them against me next time she needs something, I just fucking know it.”

Eddie chuckles as he holds your hand and you walk the stone path up to your front porch. Three knocks land on the door and you hear the small dogs barking and your mom brushing them away from the door. Your mom opens the door with your dad and your jaw hurts from the painful smile on your face as you watch the color in your mom’s face drain. “Mom…?” You ask, waiting for her to say something. “Hello?”

“Oh…sorry.” Your mom gulps, shaking her head. “Of course, come on in, everyone. There’s food on the table for snacks and supper is almost ready.”

Your parents’ tiny dogs yap and jump at you as you take your jacket off, watching as Eddie looks around your childhood home. “Quaint.” Eddie comments, noticing the frames on the wall and the little seasonal décor accents.

“Fuck off.” You tell him, a little self conscious.

“Good quaint.”

“You boys wanna watch the game?” Your dad asks, offering seemingly to anyone but Eddie. “Come on, let’s go sit.” He leans into Eddie as he turns to the living room, muttering, “My wife has got a bucket of questions, so don’t be scared by her inviting you to the kitchen.”

“Dave?” Your mom asks, still not having said much since you got there, which, frankly, is unlike her. “Can you meet me in the kitchen?”

Your dad’s eyes widen, the irony of his last statement not lost on him. “Shut up.” He tells you, his eyes kind behind his round glasses. A grin creeps up your face and you hug him tightly, wishing him luck as he opens the door into the kitchen.

For the next five minutes, nothing suspicious seems to happen in the kitchen. Steve asks if there are any bottle openers for the beer as you sit next to Eddie on the couch, a dog landing on your lap as you direct him to said kitchen. Nothing too awful seemed to be happening, anyway.

Steve sighs as he just gets comfortable. Even with Eliza gone he can’t get fucking comfy. He trudges on to the door of the kitchen when he overhears the reason your parents were quietly bickering.

“—and Eddie fucking Munson!”

“Are you sure it’s the same men? Maybe they just look the same.”

Your mom hesitates, “I know Steve the Hair Harrington, Dave.”

“Yeah, I know you know him.” Your dad answers, Steve picks up on the bitterness in his voice.

You and Eddie are approaching the kitchen now, both going to grab a drink from the fridge when Steve stops you. “Listen.” He whispers.

“I don’t know how, but my daughter is shacked up with Eddie the Freak Munson!”

“And your high school crush is here as family…” Your dad adds, sounding tired.

High school whatnow?

“Oh, I could barely say two words to him! I went into Family Video once and ended up not getting anything because I was too flustered!”

“I’ve heard this story before, Cheryl, why exactly are you still flustered now?”

“Oh, don’t condescend me, don’t act like if Penny Rogers showed up at our doorstep you wouldn’t be tripping over yourself.”

“Penny has nothing to do with this!”

Once it starts getting heated, you look up at the two men and leave the door quietly to give them some time and hash it out. “Was that what I thought it was?” You ask Steve, afraid of a yes.

Steve nods, his eyes wide. “I think so.”

“Do you remember her?”

Steve shakes his head solemnly. “Sorry, can’t say that I do.”

Your little sister, Viti makes her way down the stairs, passing you without a second thought to the two men she has never met. “Hi, sis.” She greets, about to head into the kitchen.

“I wouldn’t go in there!” You warn her. Viti observes you, looking next to you as the two men shake their heads in tandem.

“What, they fighting? Not unusual, nowadays, sis.” She answers, walking into the kitchen brazenly.

Eddie can’t resist. He really should. With you right there, he knew he’d get hit. He texts it to Steve, instead. Might not have missed your shot.

Steve pushes Eddie over, rolling his eyes. “You’re terrible!” Steve snaps, wishing the world would envelope him whole.

You hear your parents shooing Viti out and she returns, eyes wide and her pretty braids moving in tandem as she shakes her head. “Nope. I was wrong. They’re way worse. Whatever has them fighting has dad’s neck vein popping out, yeesh. Let’s go wait it out, it’s what I do, anyhow.”

Viti plays host and you sit by Eddie, listening to the boys talk about the game. You’re not particularly interested in stats and players but it’s fun cheering for the other team. Eventually you notice your sister has stopped talking altogether. She’s not even watching the tv screen.

You follow her line of sight to Arlo, and the irony of the situation hits you tenfold. “Nope. I can’t. I can’t.” You go upstairs to your told high school bedroom, Eddie following you inquisitively.

“Hey, what happened?” He asks, following you into the room that’s stuck in 2014.

“I noticed my sister paying a little too much attention to Arlo. That’s a little too fucking weird for me.”

Eddie chuckles, sitting with you on your bed. “We’ll get through this, don’t worry. Steve won’t even mention he doesn’t remember her.”

“He’d better not” You grumble, leaning onto his shoulder.

Eddie now observes his surroundings and how it’s so clearly a teenager’s bedroom. Your bedroom from high school. He adjusts as his hard on comes unexpectedly, yet fast. Something about the suggested innocence… Eddie shakes his head, kicking himself out of it. Your mom calls your name and you sigh, getting up from the teal bedspread. “C’mon. Let’s go face this shit show.”

Your mom has seemed to calm herself down, directing everyone to the extended dining table when it comes time. Your sister, 21 and in college, eagerly asks for the chair across from Arlo. By now, he’s caught on and he’s playing nice, much to Dylan’s teasing. However, neither of them have any idea how truly humorous it is.

“Sorry for the delay on supper.” Your mom says as you all sit down. “Some malfunctions with the food, all cleared up.”

Conversations carry on like normal, Eddie getting the interrogation treatment from your mom. Dylan feels defensive of his father’s honor but bites his tongue. She even asks Dylan if it was weird for him. “It’s my new normal.” Dylan answers easily, taking a basket of buns from Arlo next to him.

All conversations go politely, Eddie seemingly passing with flying colors. (Truth is, her mind was already made up before this dinner, and with her distraction, what Eddie said really doesn’t make a difference.) As the channels open up from getting to know Eddie and how he takes care of you and other points, your mom brazenly passes in favor of wanting to get it out there. “Uh, so I don’t know if you are aware, but I went to highschool with you two.”

Arlo, Dylan, and Viti are all thrown, of course. You, Steve, and Eddie all do your best to be surprised, Steve a much subtler actor than Eddie, but the smirk on his face is a dead giveaway. Eddie’s just dramatic.

“No shit, eh? Were we in any classes together?” Steve asks, making conversation.

“Yeah…chemistry and geometry. It was kind of hard to miss The King.” Dylan and Arlo pick up on it simultaneously, both sets of eyes jerking around in disbelief. Was this really happening?

You saw the kick in Steve’s confidence as he was called The King. You lean into Eddie. “The king of what?”

“You don’t wanna know.” Eddie lets you know, shaking his head.

“Don’t blame ya, I was loud.”

“I think I was louder, to be frank.” Eddie says, chuckling about his dramatic flair in the cafeteria.

“Oh my god, I remember that.” Your mom looks up, you envy, wanting to see young Eddie, too. From what you’ve seen of him, if you knew Eddie back then you couldn’t have been held responsible for pinning him down in a high school cafeteria. “The cheerleaders called basketball balls into laundry baskets because it pissed them off so much.”

Eddie chuckles, amused by this. “Cool.”

“I used to go to Steve’s ragers all the time.”

“Ragers? I’m sorry, this old man, father of four, dad joke extraordinaire, was a Rager Party thrower?”

Eddie nods, solemnly. “There’s a reason we didn’t get along. He was a douche.”

“Okay, I don’t think I was that bad.”

“Dad, when I was 17, you said you were glad you didn’t have a daughter because you were a raging dick in highschool. Actual quote.” Arlo speaks up, watching this shit show go down.

“If she was a cheerleader that answers why I don’t recognize her.” Eddie mutters to you, pretending to lean forward to speak low.

“Oh, fuck, yeah! You were Chrissy Cunningham’s friend, right?” Steve answers, tapping his brain.

“Yes! I was!” The relief that radiates off your mom after Steve remembers her is a little uncomfortable.

Steve makes eye contact and mouths the word No to Eddie, signaling he still doesn’t remember her, but if they were on the cheer squad, they definitely knew Chrissy.

An hour later, you’re washing dishes as Eddie comes up from behind you. He’s nervous as ever, for reasons he shall not share, but has something to do with the ring in his back pocket and a question for your parents.

“Hi, baby.” He mutters, thumbs slowly caressing the exposed skin on your hips. “Your mom asked to talk to me…should I be worried?”

“I wanna say no, but I don’t wanna give you false hope.” A sharp pain on your shoulder as he bites it causes you to jump, hitting your hips against his harshly. “I’m just being honest!”

Eddie chuckles softly, kissing where he bit you while rubbing your shoulder softly. You hum into him, your head leaning over in content. “Wish me luck, my love.”

As Eddie turns the corner towards the dining room he hears you mutter, “You’ll need it.” He rolls his eyes at you fondly, mentally reminding himself to get you back for that.

Truth be told, Eddie told a small fib. Your mom had gotten all her questions out during the dinner. Eddie was the one who had requested to talk to her and your father. The ring in his pocket has burned a hole in his back pocket all night, and he could finally get to the reason he was so eager to join your family for dinner.

If he was gonna propose, he’d at least do it right. (To be honest, if your parents don’t approve he’s gonna do it anyway, at least he’ll have made the attempt.)

Your parents are already ready and waiting, in the middle of an unimportant conversation. It dies as soon as he crosses the threshold to the dining room, the air in the room suddenly coarse. Has it really been nearly 30 years since he had to talk to a girlfriend’s parents? “Hi, thanks for agreeing to meet with me.”

“Sure, Eddie.” Your mom politely responds, her voice clearly uncomfortable despite her good manners.

“We were just curious as to why you asked us to have a conversation, is all.” Your dad admits, much more nicely, but still hesitant.

Not that Eddie blames them. If Dylan one day came to him with a much younger girlfriend he’d probably have some concerns, as well.

“I’m sure you are. Uh, to be honest, I was rather eager for a meet-the-family dinner…I have a question for you.” Eddie admits, rubbing his back pocket self consciously. “Listen…I love your daughter very deeply.”

He pauses and assesses their reaction, sitting as he twiddles his thumbs.

“We appreciate the sentiment. I can tell you really care about her.” Your dad admits, a soft smile on his face. He already feels a sense of affection for Eddie, despite only being a handful of years older than him. Anyone paying attention can see that your relationship was by no means superficial.

“However, you’ll have to forgive us if we’re a bit hesitant. Our daughter dating a man that’s literally old enough to be her father is a tad concerning for us.”

Eddie bites his lip, doing his best to stop himself from being defensive. It was his best intention to be on their good side. Flaring up seems like a bad idea.

“Totally understand where you guys are coming from.” He says, his hands anxiously rubbing against his jeans. “As I said, I love her. She’s the best person for me, and I don’t think I’ve ever been happier with anyone. I’m so happy… And considering I’m not getting any younger, I can’t wait any longer. I’m hoping you’ll give me your blessing to ask her to marry me.”

Any hope for a blessing dies as soon as your mom opens her mouth. For the record, it starts in abrupt laughter. “Yeah, no, that’s not going to happen.”

Eddie is unable to hold back the look of astonishment that lands on his face. He wasn’t expecting a blessing, but laughter certainly isn’t what he thought would happen. “Uh, care to explain the laughter?”

“Cheryl, while I was also going to refuse his blessing, laughing was a tad unnecessary.”

“Oh, Dave. If you knew Eddie Munson in highschool you would understand. It has nothing to do with the age difference and everything to do with the kid who made dramatic speeches on anarchy.” She laughs, placing one side of her hair behind her ear.

Eddie is stunned by her answer. How the hell was she still thinking like a high school cheerleader this many years later? “I…I have matured quite a bit since highschool.” Seems like you haven’t, bitch.

“While I’m sure you think that’s true, I just can’t see past the screw up. When she gets over how Attractive she finds you, she’ll find her way again.” She says absentmindedly, and even Dave seems to be astounded at her sheer audacity.

He chuckles deeply, arms crossed as he realizes he’s not going to win her over any time soon. An aura of confidence bursts through him, and it's almost refreshing to not be concerned with her opinion of him. “Okay. Got it. Your message is clear.” Eddie laughs.

“Good.” She stops and looks to her husband and says something clearly Eddie wasn’t supposed to hear. “Almost brought up the two years of highschool he repeated.”

That hit Eddie hard. She just went to a place that when Brooke shoved in his face he finally realized how shitty of a person she is. It hit a place that grabbed his heart and squeezed it harshly. “Okay, that’s too far. Don’t make me say it.” Eddie warns, jaw set hard.

She laughs. “Oops. Sorry. Didn’t mean for you to hear that. You gotta admit, it’s true.”

“Seriously. Don’t make me say it.”

She rolls her eyes in a way he hasn’t seen since a bratty girlfriend Dylan had about ten years ago. “Say what, drug dealer?”

“Cheryl!”

“No, I warned her.” Eddie answers, unbothered at this point. If he has to marry you without your mom there, so be it. “Steve doesn’t remember you. Not the faintest idea who you are.” Eddie takes pride in her crestfallen face. “I respect your lack of blessing, but I’m gonna ask her, anyway. Then, when we get married and you’re not invited, don’t be surprised, Cheryl.”

Without another word, he walks into the living room where everyone is sitting watching a football game, including you. He comes in wearing a smirk, you almost fear the look on his face.

“C’mon, time to go home.” He holds his hand out, a tone in his voice informing you that you have no choice in the matter.

“Is…is everything okay?” you ask hesitantly, getting up from where Steve sits with his legs on your lap.

“If you consider your mom being stuck in high school good, then sure.” Eddie tells you, holding your hand. “Besides I think she’s about to get—”

Eddie is interrupted by your mom marching into the living room. “Alright, get out, family supper over.”

With that, you, Eddie, Dylan, Steve, and Arlo are out the door within the minute.

“Jeesh, what happened?” Steve asks, partially looking accusingly at Eddie.

“She insulted me a bunch, so I told her you had no idea who she is.”

Your hand slaps over your mouth, sharing a stunned look with Dylan and Arlo.

“She insulted you?” You ask, anger swirling in your stomach as you turn on your heel. “I’ll be right back, baby.”

“Wait—!” Eddie can’t even finish his thought; you’ve already started your walk back into your house to give her a piece of your mind.

Your mom starts flying off the handle the minute the front door slams. “I thought I told you to leave my house!”

The look on her face tells you she’s only attempting to be intimidating with her stern expression, but all you can do is laugh at the absurdity of it. “That was before you decided to go and insult the shit out of my boyfriend.”

“Excuse me?”

“Oh, you’re excused. Frankly, it’s embarrassing that I have to defend him from you because of whatever notion of him you’ve kept all these years. It’s also embarrassing for you to act like some moon eyed teenage girl with a crush when your husband of 30 years is literally right there!”

Your mom’s expression flares up defensively. “If you had heard what he said—”

“You realize how patient that man is right?”

She blinks confusedly. “Pardon?”

A huff of laughter escapes you before you continue. “Do you know how patient he is? Because for him to fire a shot back at you that severely means he must’ve endured far too much verbal assault before finally saying something to you. Which means you spent the better part of ten minutes insulting him for whatever reason until he snapped!” You look to your father who had come to witness the whole debacle. ”Am I correct in assuming that?”

He just nods solemnly, arms crossed as he looks on with furrowed eyebrows.

“Thought so. So here’s what’s gonna happen. Next time, you will not insult the man who has been nothing but nice to you and actually gave you no reason to hold a grudge this late in life other than being slightly alternative. If something like this happens again, I will not hesitate to cut contact with you.” A flick of worry crosses his face. “Oh, don’t worry, dad. I only mean her.” You allow your words to sink into her skin. “Am I making myself clear?” You don’t even wait for her response as her mouth gapes. “Good. Because I will be damned if I allow anyone, especially my mother, to mock the man I love. See you next time, where I expect you to act like my mom, and not this insecure and needy cheerleader I see before me.”

The silence is loud as you leave the front hallway entrance and slam the door shut behind you. The sight of Arlo, Steve, and Eddie standing near their vehicles greets you, their eyes synchronously moving to you as the sound of the door slam echoes in the neighborhood.

Eddie jogs over to you, his face concerned. “What was that about?” He asks, observing your mood.

“Yeah, like I’m ever gonna sit idly and watch when someone insults you. That’s unacceptable, I don’t care who it is.” You tell him, your mouth in a stern line, without a hint of humor in your voice.

“I—what?” He asks, his voice soft, his pupils jerkily assessing your face.

“I’m sorry you had to deal with that, that’s so unfair of her.”

“No, baby, I don’t care about that.” He dismisses it, the last thing on this mind. “Did you just stand up for me? To your own family?”

Suddenly the mist in his eyes becomes much clearer. “Of course! I can’t stomach that crap.”

A small “umph” leaves our throat as he tugs you into his chest with more force than you think he intended to. “I love you so fucking much.”

A sense of pride takes over you, smiling into his chest.

“So, we have a long drive back to Hawkins, so we’re gonna get going.” Steve mentions, suddenly realizing the two of you probably won’t be in the mood for any company tonight.

Eddie lifts his head to respond, you curl into his chest as one of his hands drop. “Of course, dude. If I’d known…”

“I don’t think any of us could’ve predicted that.” Steve laughs, letting the two of you off the hook.

“Oh shit,” Arlo stops himself from getting into his passenger side door. “You know your baby sister gave me her number, right?” He asks you, holding out a little folded piece of paper.

You wince in embarrassment. “Oh god. Don’t feel obligated. She’s just a girl with a crush.”

Arlo shrugs, not making a big deal out of it. “No, I know. Just making you aware.”

You watch him carefully. “…Hey Arlo?”

“Yep?”

“Why are you putting her number back in your wallet?”

He hesitates. “No reason...”

“Arlo?” You ask, your voice raising.

“What? No harm no foul.” He shrugs, putting the wallet back into his pants pocket.

You roll your eyes, shifting your attention to Steve. “Keep an eye on him?”

“I make no promises.” Steve laughs, holding his hands up in surrender.

“You laugh now, Steve, but just wait until Eliza is giving her numbers to men like Arlo.”

Steve stops laughing.

“That’s what I thought.”

Dylan can’t help himself from chiming in the thought that’s been eating at his brain. “Hey look at it this way.” He says, swinging an arm around your shoulder. “If they get married, your sister will have succeeded where your mom failed to.”

“Oh? And what’s that?” You ask, arms crossed with a skeptical smirk on your face.

“Becoming a Harrington.”

The bass beat echoes through the house as you dance around, mop in tow as you perform for no one. The Twilight soundtrack plays, specifically Super Massive Black Hole as your hips swing playfully, mopping the living room. Eddie is at work for the day until later in the evening, a rarity, but you plan on surprising him by earning your keep as a freeloader. As you continue to work 40 hours a week, the only thing you have to pay is your phone bill and car insurance, but you feel bad as Eddie continues to pay for everything else.

So, to make up for it, you’ve decided to clean his already clean house and do some laundry for him. Once the last of the living room has been mopped, you put it aside and return to the laundry room to switch the loads over. As everything is moved over, you lift the basket of hot clothes onto your hip like some sort of busy mom and make your way upstairs to the closet to put it away.

At the top of the stairs, you swear softly as you trip over a box Dylan has laid outside his bedroom door. He’s packing to leave, slowly moving his boxes over to his new place one trip at a time. Eddie had offered the same thing he had granted you: a moving truck with men to move it for him, but Dylan outright refused it. You know why, Dylan is a stubborn person, something you realize he got more from her than from Eddie. If Eddie acts stubborn, it’s usually for something he believes very strongly. Dylan is just plain ol’ stubborn.

You lightly kick at the box and walk through your room into your closet. The closet has certainly gotten messier since you moved in, most of the clothes are strung about when you’re done with them at the end of the day…much to Eddie’s dismay. One thing Eddie has learned about you after he moved you in was that you are not an organized person. His constant picking up behind you makes you smile, staring at him dead in the eye as you place the plate in the sink instead of the dishwasher. To Eddie, it’s like you want to watch the world burn.

Based on the look he gave you, you might be facing some repercussions for it, later.

Today is an attempt to make up for it, finally having the time to place your sweaters on the hangers and putting the pants back in their drawers. Eddie has a system, and you have to admit, it works. Your fingers brush the cooled off fabric as you fold each item, placing them in each perspective pile before starting to put them away. You hadn’t even realized the sheer volume of clothes you had put in the load. The detergent only vaguely smells like him, missing his essence, shampoo, and his cologne to top it all off. Still, the smell of it as you take a big inhale is intensely comforting.

Each pile is designated, so you move through them one at a time, the music blaring from the living room still used as a soundtrack. Pants, in the drawers. Shirts, hung up by type. Pajamas, put into a drawer. Your last pile is Eddie’s boxers, you fold them delicately by style and open the drawer to place them in, when a peak in the bottom of the already neat pile grabs your attention. Eddie is notorious for keeping piles meticulously organized so you grab the pile to start over when a soft thud hits the carpeted floor, grabbing your attention.

The object rolls out of sight, so you peer around the center console and the breath gets sucked out of your lungs when you see it. A small black velvet box sits upside down next to the white console, acting like it didn’t just bring tears to your eyes upon the very indication of what could be inside.

You pick the box up, Eddie’s underwear forgotten. You turn it over in your hands, thumb smoothing over the velvet as you contemplate opening it. Your hand itches for it, moving to open and backing out as soon as the seal is broken. Your teeth are grinding so hard as you place it on top of the center console and move to put Eddie’s underwear away, distracting yourself from doing something crazy.

The drawer closes, nothing else to do. The kitchen is done, living room is done, Dylan isn’t around for you to bother him and distract yourself. Mentally, you make a list of things you could be doing instead as you pace around the closet, the little box growing a big presence in the closed-in space. Your phone in your back pocket buzzes, you take it out, grateful for a distraction.

Shit, just someone you’ve spoken to once adding to their story. Your phone goes back into the pocket, and you stare at the box. It’s too tempting. It’s like Eddie staring at you with his dark brown eyes when he’s seducing you. How could you not give in to something when it tempts you so?

“Shit.” You whisper, walking slowly towards it. Finally, you let yourself open it, and your eyes well up as you see its silver and intricate design. It’s just what you envisioned for an engagement ring to be; you couldn’t have picked out a better ring even if you’d tried. How the hell did he find this? How did he know? Your hands are moving before you can even register. The music is still loud downstairs, but it’s muffled to you as your heartbeat takes over. The ring slides easily onto your left ring finger, and it fits perfectly. A tear falls down your cheek, an involuntary smile takes over your face.

Fuck, he does want to be with you forever, enough to go and get a ring. Your hands shakily move to remove it and it feels like torture as the ring lingers on the ridges of your fingerprint. Words can’t convey how hard it is to take it off. Who knows how long Eddie’s going to wait to propose? You don’t want to wait another day, let alone months. The idea of knowing but never knowing when he’s going to do it somehow feels worse than not knowing he has a ring to begin with.

No, you can’t even wait another hour. Your thumb hits the call button on Eddie’s name, top of your favorites, the recent calls, and your text messages. Doesn’t matter, if your thumb hits the top of your screen it’ll lead to him somehow.

He picks up on the second ring. “Hi, baby.” He greets you so warmly, a smile radiating in his voice.

You stare at the ring now sitting in your hand and nearly cry just from his tone alone. “Come home.”

“Wh-what, why?” Eddie asks, sounding alarmed. “Are you okay, did something happen, or--?” You can hear him moving around, he’s already getting ready to leave.

“I really need you right now.” You tell him, watching the silver band catch the fluorescent lighting of the closet. “Just come home.”

“Okay, sit tight, be right there. Love you.” Before you can respond, he hangs up, and you suddenly realize you have mere minutes to go and turn off the blaring music.

When Eddie bursts through the door, you greet him in the front entrance, the music turned off as you stand there with one hand behind your back, concealing the box in your hands. It lasts only a second. “Ask me.” You tell him, forgetting to show him the ring.

Eddie stops in his tracks; unsure he heard you correctly. He appears deeply concerned, his brow deeply furrowed and lips in a tight line. “I’m sorry?”

“Oh.” You let out, bringing the ring into his sight. Eddie’s eyes widen as he sees the box within your clenched grip. You shove it into his chest, eyes welling up as you tell him again. “Ask me. Get down on one knee and ask me.”

“A-a-are you sure? I had a plan, I was gonna make a whole romantic evening out of it—”

You interrupt him, happy tears shining in your eyes. “Edward Munson if you don’t ask me right now, I swear to god—”

“Okay, okay!” He chuckles, relieved his worry was all for nothing, yet his heart races as he shakily takes a breath and slowly lowers onto one of his knees. “Y/N L/N,” he starts, licking his lips as he smiles up at you. He holds out the tiny box you spent the last hour fidgeting with and opens it. “Will you marry me?” It couldn’t have looked any better…the shine in his eyes as he looks up at you, how the heavy breathing of his chest signals his nerves, his fingers fidgeting around the little black box.

You giggle through a teary yes, meeting him halfway as he rushes to his feet, grabby hands pawing at his face to yank him into a kiss. You’re both smiling too much to truly lock lips, feeling the top row of his teeth against your own gnash in the best of ways. “Put it on, put it on!” You mutter, your left hand tapping his chest impatiently.

His hands move quickly, stumbling as he slides it on. You can swear you see his eyes well up as he admires how it looks on your finger. “Back where it belongs.” You whisper to yourself, tapping your fingers on his chest.

The sentence takes a minute for Eddie to register as he smiles down at you, lovelorn. “Did you try the ring on?”

Your eyes widen, your face breaking into a wide smile. “I mean, with a ring as perfect as this one, how could I not?”

“Perfect, eh?” He asks, one hand moving up to caress your cheek. “I’ll take it.” He leans down to kiss you, all his emotions he fails to put into words conveying in the deep and lush kiss. It takes your breath away. “You sure? You wanna wear a pretty white dress and walk down the aisle to little old me?” Eddie ignored the subtle strain at his cock as he pictured you in a white dress at the opposite end of the aisle. Well, that’s new.

“Yes, I’m fucking sure!” You tell him, lightly bonking him as you continue to kiss him. “I wouldn’t have stared at the box for twenty minutes if I wasn’t sure.”

He separates from you, a smirk on his face. “Twenty minutes?”

“Yeah. If it wasn’t a ring, I think I would’ve died.” You confess easily, and the truth always comes so easy to you when it comes to Eddie. “Now kiss me some more.”

He laughs, leaning in for a slippery wet kiss. His breath is delicious, he tilts his head to deepen the kiss while his fingers trail along your side and rest on a patch of skin that’s exposed on your hip. It tugs the littlest of whimpers out of you, hands resting on his broad shoulders. His tongue licks along the bottom lip, asking for permission in a way he usually demands. You grant it, your foot taking an accidental step back on the hardwood.

Eddie’s hand that rests on your face moves down your neck, his rough fingers are tense as they seem to memorize every inch of your skin. Your neck tingles in its wake, a sigh of contentment leaves your lips. Eddie responds with a dirty exhale into your mouth and your jaw falls open in a sudden need for him. A sudden charge in you appears out of thin air, wanting more. “Ed.” You whimper out, clutching onto his jacket he’s still wearing.

He hums in response; you can feel his lips turn upward into a smirk as his hands continue their journey to your waistline. Your thighs clench together, craving friction on your heat that for whatever reason he hasn’t granted yet. You become impatient, moving the jacket off his shoulders and you’re happily greeted by the muscle shirt he’s wearing, his gorgeous arms on full display. His lips kiss down your neck, his hands spread out as if to touch every inch that they can, lifting your oversized t-shirt to expose the skin. You move to assist him, lifting your shirt above your head. It’s not going fast enough for you, there’s too much clothing on you.

Your feet unconsciously move toward somewhere you can lie down, the couch, the counter, the stairs, anywhere to prevent your knees from buckling embarrassingly. “Where you going?” He mutters, yet still allowing you to lead.

The back of your thighs meet the armrest of the couch. “The couch, apparently.” You answer, sighing as he continues to devour your neck.

Eddie inhales the perfume you spritzed that morning and lets out a chuckle. Before you can even ask, he pushes you by the shoulders, making you fall backwards onto the couch. “Fine by me.”

Your back hits the cushions, a rough landing as you bounce. Eddie crawls on top of you, tongue meeting your leg in a trail of wet kisses as he makes his way up to your pelvis. A whine leaves your throat, eyes closing in bliss as each kiss contributes to the blindingly hot need for him in your pussy.

Eddie reaches your crotch, and as he lifts his mouth from you, you expect him to take your shorts off. Instead, he puts his face in and inhales, moaning when your aroma hits his nose. Just from your smell he can tell how wet you are. “Baby you are soaked, aren’t you?” His brown eyes meet yours, lust overwhelming his eyes.

“Always.” You answer, not a hint of shame behind it. “Always ready for you.”

Eddie’s eyes roll into the back of his head at your answer, groaning. Fuck, doesn’t that deserve a reward. His hands easily hook around the elastic band of your grey shorts, moving them swiftly off your legs. His original plan to tease you through your panties goes to shit, your eagerness driving the need to devour you like an arrow into his chest. The glisten of your folds is a sight to see– as always– as he makes himself comfortable on the couch, situating your legs over his shoulders. A squeal of giggles escapes your throat as he tugs your body to where he needs you. Your knees meet your torso, toes already curled at the anticipation as his hot and heavy breaths send jolts of pleasure and he hasn’t even touched your dripping cunt yet.

“Eddie.” Your voice comes out desperate.

Eddie smirks at it, it’s barely been a full minute since he tugged your shorts off. “I know.” One hand that rests on your thigh reaches forward for your left hand, toying with the ring that hasn’t been on your finger for more than five minutes. Your hand shakily grips his tightly and you clench your thighs around his head tightly in anticipation.

After what feels like ages, he finally leans in to devour you, using his tongue in one long stripe along your folds. The release it gives you is both not enough and everything you need. Your hips grind up to meet his mouth, heels digging in, and his deep chuckle vibrating against your pussy is too fucking good. Moans leave your mouth at your breathing rate, every breath being a whimper to let Eddie know how fucking good his mouth feels against you.

The hand still on your other thigh travels to play at your clit gently, and your moans go silent as your thighs fucking quake against him. Eddie can’t stop the satisfaction that purrs through him in the form of laughter. “Fuck, baby. Barely touched you.” He mutters, low enough he’s not even sure you hear him.

Halfway through a sigh, it turns into a laugh. “Mouth feels so good.”

Eddie hums in response, mouthing at your folds again before his tongue makes its way into you, his nose nuzzling your clit. He fucks you with his tongue and you grind against him, the grip on your left hand harsh and his nails now digging into your right thigh. “Cunt smells so fucking good.” He says, rutting his nose against your clit and knowing damn well what it was doing to you. “Tastes…” he pauses fucking you with his tongue again, “…tastes like fucking heaven, fuck, baby.”

Eddie is driving you to the edge quickly, your thighs tense against his head as your hips continue to grind up against him. Your free hand lands in his hair, pulling at the roots at every wave of pleasure he gives you. Eddie could swear the pulls feel like a heartbeat at his roots, not that he minds. As he continues and drives you faster to that high, he notices the tugs get faster and he moans when he realizes something you do not.

He slides two fingers in, moving them back and forth, listening to the sinful wet sounds your pussy makes as it weeps for him. As your slick makes a mess on his chin and hands as he smirks up at you, hooking his fingers against your g-spot. Your thighs clench even harder as the heat expands, radiating through your body and you barely have a second to think to warn him. “Ed, I, I—” He feels you flutter around his fingers as you cum, your legs shaking as you lose all control of your extremities. He saw it coming from a mile away, as the tugs on his hair became more frequent.

He continues to lick at the slick of your folds and finger you gently as you come down from your high, your entire body going limp. He gives one last kiss to your clit and kisses his way up your body, you watch as his wide smile comes closer and closer to you. “How’s my girl?”

A giggle leaves your mouth, smiling up at him gleefully. “I’m alright.” Eddie tickles your hip bone, and you squirm underneath him, giggling harder. “Okay, okay! Fuck!” Your legs wrap around his hips, and you tug his growing tent down to meet your exposed pussy. “Need you.”

“Need to feel that pussy wrapped around my cock, baby.” Eddie grinds himself into your heat, teasing himself, but admiring the way your eyes roll into the back of your head.

Your heat is throbbing at this point, begging for more. “Need your cock in me, Ed. Want you to fuck me open.”

Eddie’s eyes widen, as he’s the one that usually does the talking. “Yeah? Need this big cock in that tight little pussy?”

“So fucking bad, Ed. Please give it to me.”

“Oh I’m gonna give it to you.” He leans forward for a wet and slobbery kiss, one that you embrace at tenfold. Your hand goes to his jeans where they’re laying now on your pelvic bone to undo the button, shakily attempting to with only one hand, the other still in his grip.

“Ed…” You whimper, tugging on the waistband wordlessly. “Get these fucking jeans off.”

Eddie chuckles as he climbs off you to take his jeans off. You sit up to watch him as his gorgeous figure gets undressed. Your hands move to your back to get rid of the bra that still hides your chest. He walks up to you sitting on the couch, placing a finger to tilt your chin up. You peer up at him with wide doe eyes, his cock only inches away from your face.

His thumb gently swipes at your bottom lip, admiring the shade of them. “So pretty.” He mutters, about to ask you to lay down.

“Wanna fuck it?” You ask, his cock mere inches from your face, you’re suddenly craving his balls up against your cheek and the weight of his cock on your tongue.

“Weren’t you just begging me to fuck your pussy?” He asks, searching your eyes for the sudden change in you.

Your mouth opens obediently, pulling a gasp of disbelief from Eddie. His cock literally twitches, and he realizes there’s no reason not to let you if you’re so eager to. He slides his cock in your mouth, watching as he slowly moves to the back of your throat, your doe eyes still looking up at him.

“Oh, my good girl.” He rubs at your cheek, feeling the length of himself against it. “Such a good girl for daddy.”

As much as you resist, your eyelids flutter shut, moving your head up and down, your cheeks hollowing out as you suck on him. You hear a groan of contentment out of him, and it only encourages you. One of his hands weaves itself into your hair, using it to guide you. You take yourself off his cock, breathing heavily as you take a long lick at a vein along the side of the shaft. Your left hand wraps around the length, jerking him off as you lean forward to take one of his balls into your mouth.

“Oh fuck, that’s so pretty.” He mutters, causing you to stop.

“Hmm?”

“Look, baby. Your ring on my cock…wanna take a picture…fuck.”

You don’t answer, just continuing to jerk him off as your mouth resumes its journey to his balls. You take one in your mouth, the hair on them smelling like sweat. You take a big inhale of them, sighing happily as you suck at the flesh. Eddie’s knee almost buckles as he sees what you’re doing, the idea that you were inhaling his raw scent too much for him to comprehend.

“Oh Jesus, trying to kill me.”

“No.” You mutter, hand still jerking him as you move to give the other side the same treatment. “Just blow you stupid.”

Eddie moans at your nonchalance, and as you finish with the second ball you move back to his cock, spitting on it and taking it back into your mouth. You give no warning as you take in as much as you can, focusing on getting him to the back of your throat. Before he can instruct you, you relax your throat and allow your nose meet his pubic hair, taking in the damn whimper that leaves his mouth, relishing in it.

“Fuck, if you keep going like this I will fucking blow.”

At his insistence, your mouth leaves his cock with a pop, still on your knees, completely naked as your eyes stare up at him. Eddie nearly loses his mind as he looks down at you, hands combing through your hair. “Lie down, baby.”

You need no more instruction, lying on the couch, your legs open as you wait for him. He sits himself in between them, hands framing your head as he looks at your face. “I can’t believe I get to marry someone so fucking beautiful.” Your eyes well up at the sentence as it fucking sucks the air out of your lungs.

Eddie barely gives you a chance to recover, sliding himself in you. Your jaw drops at it, eyelids growing heavy as you watch him carefully. “You can’t…you can’t just say something like that.” You whimper, gasping for breath. “It’s not fair.”

“I’ll say it because it’s the fucking truth.” Eddie states, watching for the signal when you’re ready for him to move. “God you in a fucking white dress, looking all sweet n’ shit…”

“Gonna be your wife.” Eddie’s hips buck into you in response, and a gasp falls from your lips in surprise. “Fuck!”

“Gonna be my fucking wife.” It comes out of him in a growl, a sense of pride runs through Eddie as he is elated he gets to share the discovery of his love of calling you his wife with you, finally. “Oh baby, pussy is so tight, just suckin’ me in.”

“Want that. Want you. Want us.” It babbles out, Eddie gaining speed as he watches your cocked out expression looking so adoringly up at him. You hold onto him, nails scratching down his back. He bucks harder, head buried in your neck as he attempts to calm himself down. “Want you to put a baby in me.”

A fucking growl leaves his throat and his head perks up to look at you. “Oh my god, I almost just came.” He says lowly.

“Really?” You ask him, eyes shining bright at his confession.

He nods, gulping. “Y-yeah.” Your legs tug him back down, lifting your hip to get him to fuck you more. A grunt of acknowledgement escapes his throat, back to business. “Gonna put a baby in you.”

“Oh fuck, Ed, just like that.”

“Gonna marry you and get you fucking pregnant, you’ll be my hot little housewife!”

“You’re in my fucking stomach Ed, fuck you’re so deep!”

Eddie cannot help the swell of pride he feels at this. “Gonna fill you up, baby.”

“Fuck…Ed,”

The moment your pussy flutters around him he cums into you, white sticky ropes filling you up. His weight collapses on you, your legs gripping on his torso tight, holding him in. Your eyelids feel heavy as you look up at him, holding his face. “You know, I really can’t wait to marry you.” Eddie tells you, his thumb toying with your ring, his hand resting on yours.

You gulp, the sentiment the same. He knows it by your expression and by your impatience, you can’t wait either. “How long—” you yawn, “how long have you had it?”

“Uh…since Harrington was here.” Eddie refuses to say Steve’s name while he’s inside you.

“What!?” Your eyes pop open in disbelief. “You’ve had this for weeks? And you haven’t asked me yet?”

“I knew I wasn’t fucking crazy.” Eddie mutters, and you peer up at him, eyebrow raised in a question. “I’ll tell you later.”

“Ok.” You yawn again, clutching onto his back. “We have all the time in the world for you to tell me, anyway.”

Eddie’s chest swells with emotion, clutching onto you like his lifeline. “I love you so much, sweetheart.”

You nuzzle your nose into his hair, letting yourself get into his tangled curls. “Love you too.”

You fall asleep within seconds, Eddie texts his employees he had an emergency and can’t return for the day. He had a full day, but that was before you decided to take over his proposal.

Thank you so much for reading! I love to read your comments, replies, and reblogs. As always, reblogging is the best way to support your fic writers on tumblr.

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my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction · 2 months

Text

Free Ride

Jake Lockley x GN!Reader • Rating: T •Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | requestinfo• MK Bingo 2024 Masterlist• ko-fi •

Free Ride Masterlist

Summary: Your taxi driver is surprisingly familiar.

🌛For @moonknight-events MK Bingo Spring 2024 Event🌜

A/N: Set in London, Jake is driving a black cab in my mind for some reason.

Warnings: Jake being mistaken for Steven, kisses, awkward silences, over use of italics, typos, not beta read, railroad sentences, please let me know if I've missed a warning!

Word Count: 1161

You got into the cab quickly, the cold night air raking its nails over your skin. You pulled your coat a little higher and shivered.

The bar crawl hadn’t exactly gone to plan. Two of your friends had had to check out early, and a third had hooked up with someone they’d met while getting a round. You’d decided to call it a night.

“Hi,” you greeted the driver, about to give your address when you pause in surprise. “Steven?”

Jake freezes, watching your reflection in the rear view mirror.

“Steven Grant, you, you live on the floor above me.” You smile. “I didn’t realise you drove a cab?”

He swallows, raising his chin up in a nod, his mind racing. He’d left it far too long to deny it. “I… just, part time.” He spoke quietly, adding a croak to his voice to disguise the difference in accent.

“You okay?”

“Yeah… cold.” He tapped his throat, “so, erm, home?”

You nod, “yeah. Sorry you’re unwell, hope you feel better soon.”

He shrugged. “It’s nothing.”

You nod again, something about the energy in the cab seemed… odd. Different. You were on pretty good terms with Steven since he’d helped you out when you were lugging your shelves up the stairs (they were too wide for the lift.) You chatted when you ran into each other going out or coming back. Somehow you both usually ended up going to the local sainsbury’s at the same time for your weekly shop and had kind of settled into a not exactly planned routine where you would wait for each other and do it together.

Steven talked. A lot. In the best way possible. Excitedly and passionately. Bubbly and enthusiastic. He genuinely listened as well, asking follow up questions and nodding. But even when he was listening, he wasn’t quiet. Always adding in ‘hmms’ and ‘oh right’, and little snippets of commentary that warmed your heart.

Now he was quiet. Pulled in and zipped up.

Maybe it was just the cold making his throat hurt. You’d have to get him something to help, maybe tomorrow you could knock on with some ginger, lemon, and honey tea.

Maybe, maybe, maybe…

You stilt your head to the side as you watch him drive. He takes a turn smoothly, travelling down the late night roads without as much as a pause. Or a word.

It just didn’t make sense.

How unlike Steven he was being. You pause, for a second entertaining the idea that he wasn’t actually him. But that made no sense did it? He’d have to be an identical twin, and besides, he was talking you back to your flat. If he wasn't Steven, how would he know where you lived?

“I didn’t know you could drive?” You say, speaking up a little to try to hide the spike of nervousness that had settled in your gut. You had been so sure that he’d told you he couldn’t… though had that just been an excuse? A reason to tag along with you when you went food shopping? Was his quietness now embarrassment from being caught out?

“Hmm,” he nodded, glancing back at you again in the rear view mirror. “I don’t mention it… much.”

You nod. “Yeah.” You pick at your fingernails as he drums his hands against the steering wheel, waiting for the light to change.

The silence stretches out, almost blanketing the low grumble of the engine. It’s sickening. Nerve wrecking.

“How’s work?” You blurt out, and then quickly clarify. “Both I mean, how’s driving going today and how’s the museum?” He glances back at you again, the action is starting to remind you of a priest in a confessional.

“It’s all… normal.”

“Normal?”

“Fine. Normal.”

You don’t speak again until he pulls up by the block of flats, putting on the handbrake and getting into neutral. He puts his hands on his lap, folded neatly with his palms facing upwards.

“How much do I owe you?” You ask.

“Nothing.”

“What?”

“Nothing. It’s on me.”

“Stev-”

He turns quickly, flicking off his seatbelt in a practised move so that he can twist his body fully around to face you.

For a moment you think he’s going to say something, reveal some grand secret but instead he pauses before giving you a very weak smile.

“It’s on me.” His voice is quiet, barely there at all. And, for the briefest second you could have sworn that his accent was different.

“Thank you.”

He shrugs politely, dismissing it as if it was nothing.

Before he can turn away you reach out for his shoulder, the action instinctive and leaving you lost for a reason why you did it.

He glances at your hand for a second before looking back to your face.

You lean forward. “Thank you.” You repeat softly, and slowly kiss his left cheek, giving him plenty of time to pull away and rebuff you if he wanted to.

Instead he leans slightly into the touch, swallowing and turning his head towards you. His nose brushes against yours and you think he’s going to turn back to facing the wheel, but instead he presses his lips to yours hesitantly.

You squeeze his arm, surprised but responsive as you kiss him back.

He kisses you slowly, but intentionally. Swiping the tip of his tongue along your bottom lip before opening your mouth with his own and licking inside. He groans, low in his chest as the kiss becomes hungrier, boarding on desperation as he presses as close to you as he physically can in his position.

When suddenly he pulls back, blinking heavily. A mumbled, ‘sorry’, just escaping his lips.

“It’s okay.” Your voice is quiet too, your mind only just catching up with what happened.

He turns back, putting his seatbelt on with a click and staring straight ahead. “Have a good night.”

“I, erm, I’ll see you later.” You mutter as you get out, feeling almost shaky from what just happened. Your thoughts reeling.

You get up to your flat in a daze. You’d kissed him, well, he’d kissed you. Did that mean anything? Had you done something to chase him off?

You change into your pyjamas and brush your teeth, staring at your reflection in the bathroom mirror.

There’s a soft knock at your front door and you freeze. Wait.

Maybe it’s a neighbor's door. Maybe it’s noise from another flat.

There’s a knock again, still soft and your phone buzzes. A message from Steven, ‘can we talk?’

Fuck.

You head to the door, checking the peep hole and confirming that yes, it is Steven outside your door. You unlock and open it quickly.

“Steven, I-”

You don’t get a chance to finish your sentence before he moves forward quickly and kisses you deeply. His hands settle on your hip, the back of your neck as he walks you further inside and kicks the door shut with the heel of his foot.

____________________________________________

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psychedelic-ink · 11 months

Text

𝐃𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐋𝐄𝐓 𝐌𝐄 𝐃𝐑𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄

pairing: stripper!jack daniels x f!reader

genre: stripper AU, explicit, minors dni

word count: 6.5k

series summary: frustrated by your everyday life, you seek solace at a male strip club. It's your first time and you're instantly mesmerized by the one that calls himself "Whiskey".

chapter summary: you bump into "whiskey" at the farmer's market and learn more about him.

warnings: awkward moments, fluff, mutual pining, sexual tension, bondage via jack's belt, piv, oral (female receiving), praise kink, fingering, dirty talking, brief mention of jack being widowed, angst & arguing at the end

a/n: sadly no stripping in this one folks but I promise we're gonna get some more (and our happy ending) in part three!

part two of i can feel your heartbeat

dividers by @firefly-graphics 💜

You don’t visit the farmer’s market as often as you used to but when you do, man, do you love it.

It’s almost therapeutic. You love the gentle morning sun warming your skin, you love the scent of fresh produce wafting through the air. You enjoy looking at the colorful display of flowers. While you walk, you look up into the sky, the clouds looking fluffier than ever. A soft wind blows and ruffles the leaves of the trees, the sound of it strong enough to make you believe you’re in another, more exciting world.

The crowd mimics the motion of waves in the sea. You follow the current, not having a particular stand in mind. The only thing on your list is buying some fresh fruit; some juicy peaches, and maybe some strawberries.

Lost in your thoughts, you don't notice a man stepping into your path until it's too late.

With an unexpected jolt, you collide into him, your momentum abruptly halting. Startled, you blink and take a step back, a mix of embarrassment and surprise washing over you.

It’s then that you notice an item slipping from his bag, plummeting toward the ground.

In that split second, your senses heighten, and you catch a whiff of familiar leather and a trace of a perfume that sparks a distant memory. But you can't dwell on it for long as your gaze fixates on what has fallen—a meticulously hand-carved wooden horse.

The delicate figurine lies there, its intricate details captivating your attention. The sunlight dances upon its smooth surface, casting intricate shadows that accentuate the craftsmanship. It is a thing of beauty, captivating in its simplicity and elegance.

You kneel down, carefully picking up the wooden horse. Its weight in your hand feels grounding. Your fingertips trace the curves and contours, marveling at the artistry that brings it to life.

Distracted by the wooden horse, you momentarily forget about the man with whom you collided. But as you rise to your feet, you finally take notice of him, standing there with a surprised expression on his face. Recognition flickers in his eyes, and a smile slowly curves his lips; meanwhile, you’re absolutely shocked. Your mouth falls open and your eyes go wide at the sight of a cowboy hat you’ve grown accustomed to seeing almost every night.

“Whiskey?” you say in a hushed, yet loud, whisper. “W-What are you—”

His smile falters at the sound of his stage name, it seems to you that he’s forgotten that you don’t actually know his birth-given name. He crowds your space, the scent of pine filling the air, unmistakable and comforting. When you part your lips the second time, it’s to apologize, but before you can, he claps a hand over your mouth and gently pushes you towards the back of one of the market stalls. Your heart races, his grip firm yet strangely gentle.

The rough surface of wood meets your back. You feel the subtle grooves and indentations beneath your palms and a shiver runs down your spine as his intense stare penetrates your defenses. He breathes heavily through his nostrils, lips a thin line.

“It’s Jack,” he grunts, almost begrudgingly. “My name’s Jack.”

“Jack,” you say, enjoying the way his name rolls off of your tongue. Then your brows furrow with realization. “Wait, is that why you call yourself Whiskey? Like, Jack, as in Jack Daniels?”

He gives you a pained expression, the corner of his lips lifting, “Guess my last name.”

“Nooooo,” you let out a hushed gasp. “Your last name is Daniels?”

“I told you my real name wasn’t any less embarrassin’.”

You tut with a grin, “You poor thing.”

He inches closer, leg almost between your thighs but not quite. Jack always makes his presence known. He is used to being center stage, garnering all the attention and whisking anyone away from their thoughts. His very being overwhelming and affective. You stiffen as awareness starts creeping in— the large hand cupping the column of your neck, his body imposing as it blankets yours, the thick wood behind your back. In the distance, you still hear the clamoring of people. Your breath catches in your throat, he’s only an inch away.

Your fingers twitch and you remember the wooden horse he’d dropped.

“Um, I think this is yours,” you blurt out, handing him the carving. He’s briefly startled but then pulls away, taking it from you. “It’s lovely by the way. Where’d you get it?”

“I. . . uh. . . I made it,” he mutters, tilting his head forward. Hiding from you.

“You made it?”

He nods and steps away from you.

“Is there anything you can’t do?” you tease, pushing yourself away from the market wall. You follow him into the crowd. “You’re truly a man of many talents. . . Jack.”

“Don’t make me regret tellin’ you my name.”

“I won’t,” you answer with a hint of mischief. You eye the bags he’s holding. “Are all of those wood carvings?”

“Yea,” he says. “I bring them for my mother-in-law, she sells them along with other stuff.”

“You—” your mouth dries and you swallow around the know forming rapidly in your throat. “Wait, you told me you were single.”

“Widowed.”

He says it in a way that doesn’t allow for any follow-up questions. His voice is curt, nonchalant. Tearing your gaze away from the crowd, you stare at him, your heart squeezing in your chest. You want to hold him, whether it's a hug or just a delicate brush of your fingers. You want him to know that you're here for him.

But you just can’t.

If you two hadn’t bumped into each other, he wouldn’t have ever told you. This was a truth that was spoken due to circumstance, not something he wanted to admit and that makes you feel incredibly guilty. “I’m sorry,” is the only thing you’re able to say.

You might be imagining it, but you think he starts walking closer to you. His hand brushes your waist and pulls you close—right then you realize you were about to crash into some poor unsuspecting woman with enough goods to feed an army.

He snorts, “You really out to be more careful, sweetheart.”

“Sorry,” you mumble, distracted by the hand cupping your side. The woman had already disappeared into the crowd but he’s still holding you close. Heat drips down your spine.

“What’s your favorite animal?”

The question takes you by surprise but you indulge him with an answer, “Foxes.”

“Hmm,” he looks down at his bag. “Darn, I don’t think I made a fox.”

“It’s okay, don’t worry about it,” a nervous chuckle bubbles from your lips. He makes a sound and the two of you continue walking through the crowd. When you reach almost the end of the stalls, he stops you.

“Wait here,” he says. “I’ll drop these off and we can look around together.”

“O-Oh you don’t have to—”

“If today is any indication you can’t function properly without me, sunshine,” he grins. “You’ll probably headbutt a fruit stand or somethin’.”

You stand there, your heart pounding in your chest as he leaves you. Your eyes trace his figure until he stops beside a middle-aged, elegant-looking blond woman at a nearby stand. They engage in conversation, their voices carrying faintly to your ears.

They seem comfortable in each other's presence, their conversation carrying a lightness that betrays a shared history. Her smile lights up her face, and for a moment, her eyes meet yours. You feel a jolt of nervousness, your instinct urging you to avert your gaze, fearing that you may be intruding upon a private moment.

You don’t want to pry, but you would be damned if you said you weren’t hungry for more information. . . .among other things.

Soon Jack returns, the bags he carried earlier now gone. His presence draws you back to the present, grounding you in the here and now. “You ready to go?” he asks.

“Sure.”

When your eyes find the woman’s once more, she waves at the both of you. Jack tilts his hat as he places his hand protectively over the small of your back, heat seeping through the fabric of your shirt and into your skin. You stumble for a moment before waving back.

You’re not sure how to react to any of this. Seeing Jack outside of the strip club feels forbidden, in a way. Like a certain spell has been broken. Before you knew his name it was easy to pretend your growing emotions were nothing other than you enoying the attention he was giving you. But now you’re in the real world. He has his hand on your back unprompted and is willing to walk around with you at the farmer’s market. In the club, a curtain of illusion looms most of the time. It’s another world. A separate little nook where you can disappear into and be pampered in.

That spell is broken now.

He’s a real person. Your emotions are real. Everything is.

And that terrifies you.

With the heel of his palm pressed firmly against the steering wheel, Jack parks in your driveway. Your eyes drop to his lap where his legs are spread, an enticing view by any means. His belt buckle shines under the street light coming through the windshield. The soft yellow softens the edges of his face, giving him an almost somber look.

He kills the engine, you wait for him to speak but he doesn’t say anything.

“Thank you for dropping me off,” you say, breaking the silence. You unwillingly grip the latch of the door. “So,” you add.

“So,” he clears his throat, and drags a thumb down the bridge of his nose. “I’ll see you around darlin’. Today was nice.”

“Yeah. It was.”

The two of you had ended up spending time together until the sun had set. You even had dinner together which was a pleasant surprise. It wasn’t awkward then, so you have no idea why you feel so unnerved right now. It’s as if your entire vocabulary had dropped from your head.

You swallow, thinking of your next words very carefully, “Would you. . . like to come in? I have a bottle of wine.”

Time seems to slow down, every sound around you amplified. The cacophony of crickets fills the night air, a gentle breeze rustles the leaves of nearby trees. You hold your breath as the car emits a soft creak. The muscle in his jaw twitches. He seems hesitant, his eyes glazed as if looking at the horizon. You shouldn’t have asked. Just because he was friendly doesn’t mean he wants to date, or have a relationship. And from what you’ve learned today, there is a very high chance that Jack wouldn’t be interested in any form of intimacy.

“Sure,” he finally says, his voice rough. “Lead the way, sugar.”

Despite the hot summer air, your skin is ice cold. He follows you inside, his body close yet painfully far at the same time. The skin at the base of your spine tingles. You have a feeling that he wants to wrap his arms around you but it remains only a thought. Briefly you imagine the phantom feel of his limbs coiling around you, the warmth you would feel.

You quickly unlock the door and invite him inside. You’re not sure what to do now that he’s in your apartment. Hands in his pockets, he gives his surroundings a quick once-over.

“Cozy,” he says.

“Thanks,” you mumble, not sure if that was a compliment or not. “So, wine?” without waiting for an answer you head to the kitchen. Jack follows. You're desperately racking your brain for conversation topics that won't be awkward, but your mind seems determined to make your life miserable by providing no ideas.

“Today was fun,” you say, reaching for the glasses. He makes a sound of approval and your gut simmers with something unpleasant. You grab the bottle of wine from the fridge and the cork from the drawer. With a frown, you struggle with pulling out the cork. “I hope. . .” you pull at it again. “you had fun. . .” you let out a loud grunt, too distracted to realize he’s rounding the small island. “. . . too—shit!”

Jack is right behind you when the cork finally comes loose and sends your arm flying back.

Your elbow slams loudly against something hard and pointy, the pain that blossoms from skin to bone immediate. Jack lets out a shout and when you turn you see him hunched over, holding his chin.

Oh god, you’re a moron.

“What were you doing behind me!?” you chide, your voice shrill.

“I should be the one fuckin’ yellin’,” he hisses, each word bouncing against the back of his teeth. He breathes heavily through his nose and slowly stands back up. He moves his jaw as if he’s testing if it’s broken. “I was gonna offer help. It didn’t look like you were gettin’ anywhere with the bottle.”

Your chest heaves, heart pounding maniacally beneath the cage, “I’m so so so sorry,” you say quickly. “I—I wasn’t paying attention. Do you need anything? Should I get the first aid kit?”

He’s still moving his jaw when his eyes meet yours. You hear the faint clicking of bone, the sound ominous to your ears. “Sorry,” you whisper again, feeling like a parrot.

Jack’s gaze grows softer the longer he stares at you. Momentarily his eyes flutter closed. He takes a deep breath and opens them back up again. The air around you is still, the only sound not drowned by the drum of your heart is the faint traffic coming from outside. With long strides, he’s at you in an instant, his body feeling larger than life itself. His fingers gingerly brush your cheek and you swear you feel electricity crackling across the skin.

“I should be the one apologizin’. It’s my fault for sneaking up on you like that,” he sighs, turning his hand, he drags his knuckles down your face. You’re reminded of the first time he danced for you, how he wrapped his hands around your neck. “I didn’t mean to shut down like that. Of course, I had fun today. I’m glad we ran into each other.”

In order to avoid appearing desperate and insecure, you sink your teeth into the tip of your tongue, consciously refraining from uttering the question: "Really?"

“That’s good,” you say instead, hating how unsure you sound. He definitely thinks that you don’t believe him. “For a while there I felt bad. I didn’t want to intrude.”

“Well, you didn’t.”

“Okay.”

His touch feels good on your skin. You don’t ever want him to leave, at least, not for tonight. It’s odd really, you’ve been much closer than this before but this feels more intimate, more nerve-wracking. His head tilts towards the bottle, the corner’s of his mouth curling up.

“Now pour us what’s left in the bottle.”

You’re grinning now, a sound between a chuckle and a snort dropping from your lips, “Okay.”

Jack picks up the glasses of wine as you lead him to the living room. You can definitely sense an energy shift between you two. You don’t need to force yourself to fill the silence anymore. Everything is more natural, just like it was before.

“I’m just glad you didn’t get my nose,” he says as he takes a seat on the couch. “It would’ve been bad for business.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” you roll your tongue. “People love a rugged handsome man with a bit of blood.”

As soon as you sit, his arm comes up to lay above the backrest. His fingers draw patterns across your skin; stars, hearts, circles. Your muscles tighten, nipples left tingling at his touch. You breathe out slowly. Jack shuffles closer and spreads his legs, his knee digging into the meat of your thigh. His thumb smooths over the stem of the wine glass. You have his full focus, gaze brimming with intrigue.

“Is that what you like?” Every word is said tantalizingly slow, you shudder. “A bit of blood.”

Not the blood, you want to say, but the thought of someone stepping in to be a shield for me.

The words don’t come however and you just stare, your cheeks warm as he continues to toy with the small hairs scattered across the back of your neck. You’re actually glad you managed not to answer. You’re not sure if he’d want to stay after hearing it. There’s just something so intoxicating about another person caring enough to want to protect you, no matter what happens. And your lizard brain just thinks it’s hot. You’re aware it’s not the strangest thing but still, you don’t think it’s the best course of action to admit this to your stripper.

Well, not your stripper. He doesn’t belong to anyone but you digress.

“Tell me whatcha thinkin’ pretty girl,” he spreads his fingers around your nape, gently squeezing the side. You practically purr at the pressure. “You should know by now that I’m good at keepin’ secrets.”

The reminder brings a rush of warmth between your legs. You squirm and bring the glass of wine to your lips, taking two large gulps. “I don’t know what I’m thinking,” you answer, swallowing at the same time. “Besides you already know what the people want, don’t pretend that you don’t.”

“I do,” he hums. “But right now I’m more interested in what you want, sugar.”

“You. . .” you furrow your brows. “What?”

Placing the wine glass on the coffee table, he leans closer. His lips are tinted from the wine. “What do you want, darlin’?” he pressed his palm flat on your thigh. “Because to me, it seems like you have an itch you just can’t seem to scratch.”

Holy freaking hell.

You’re a goner— what kind of steamy cowboy romance book did this man climb out of?

“What about you?”

Your question startles him and his fingers twitch around your thigh, “What do you mean ‘what about me’?”

“Well,” you shrug. “What do you want?”

You’re giving yourself mental pats on the back for keeping your voice leveled. The fabric of your underwear is damp with arousal, your clit throbbing and aching for his fingers. There’s a storm raging inside you. A storm that you’re glad he’s not able to witness. You keep your breathing even. Nice and slow. His hand starts sliding up your leg, stopping when he reaches the crease between your legs. He smiles.

“I want to fuck you, darlin'.”

You hold your breath, your pussy bottoming out at his deep southern drawl. He leans in, lips brushing your ear before gently nipping the hard shell. Electricity spikes up your spine, a strangled moan parting your lips.

“I want to fuck you slow,” he continues on, tongue wet and warm over your skin. “Then I want to fuck you hard. I want to look in your eyes as you come for me again, sunshine.” without warning Jack cups your sex, fingers digging into your clothed folds. Your head snaps up, every bone going rigid in your body. “Want to feel that pretty pussy chokin’ my cock.”

You’re shaking and your ears are left ringing. It’s just one touch. One touch and your entire body is locked up, aching, begging. Your jaw hurts from how hard you’re clenching your teeth. He blows a puff of air, goosebumps rising over your skin. He kisses your neck, such a gentle, fleeting feeling. All blood gathers under his lips, pounding. You swallow.

“Your turn,” he rasps, circling your clit with two fingers. “What do you want, gorgeous?”

“I—I—” you look down to where his hand is, the sight knocking the air from your lungs. He’s actually touching you, fingers deep between your legs. Sweat beads at your temple. “I want that too.”

“Hm?” he’s amused, you can tell. A tone you’d grown accustomed to that you both hate and adore. You refuse to look at him. “You like the sound of that, pretty girl? Me fucking this neglected pussy? Has a man ever made you come before, sunshine?”

You don’t want to answer but you forget that silence is an answer on its own. “What is this a questionnaire?” His eyes glimmer under the dimmed light, how can he look so delighted while taking you apart you’ll never know.

“I’m takin’ that as a no,” he tuts and sticks his bottom lip out. “Poor thing.”

You might not admit it, but that doesn’t make him any less right. You haven’t really been lucky when it came to previous sexual endeavors. None of them really made you that comfortable to just let go. There were some that came really close, and some felt good despite you not finishing—some were just downright bad at it— That’s why his dance had surprised you. He worked you up so thoroughly and that added with the thought that you’d never see him again bred the perfect ground for you to just relax.

You had no idea the end result would be him in your apartment, telling you how badly he wanted to fuck you. If this is a dream you never want to wake up from it.

His hands slide to your hip, holding you tight as he leans over. You gasp when you feel his lips, so soft, so tender. His tongue swipes over your bottom lip hungrily, not asking but demanding to be let inside. You part your lips with a feverish groan and he slips inside. You seize him by the collar, pulling him closer, wanting more of him. Your head spins as he tilts his head, shoving more of him inside you, your tongue eagerly backing down so he takes full control. He squeezes the breath out of you, swallowing your tender moans of his name.

Jack’s hand tenderly cups your cheek as he pulls away, a string of saliva still connecting you two together. You breathe heavily, your lips stinging in the best way. Your eyes flit over his face. His lips kiss swollen, chocolate eyes a shade darker. With a thumb, he tugs down your bottom lip and swallows.

“Take me to your bedroom.”

“I’ve never seen you take off your clothes so fast before.”

He snorts, “Shut up. I ain’t on the clock. You think that’s how I undress all the time? I would get nothin’ else done.”

Jack unbuckles his belt while you take in the sight of his bare torso. A shudder crawls up your spine at the sound of the metal buckle coming loose. He has a smooth chest, which you already knew but still, to have it all to yourself makes your entire mouth water.

Your eyes drop when he rips the belt away with one smooth motion. Anticipation stirs in your chest, causing your eyebrows to raise. Before you can avert your eyes, he catches your gaze, his trademark grin tugging at his mouth. Belt still in hand, he comes closer. With a gentle touch, Jack's hands grasp the fabric of your shirt. Carefully, he pulls upward, the fabric gradually lifts, revealing the tender skin beneath. You instinctively raise your arms for him and he slids it completely off, leaving you in nothing else but your bra.

He dips down, kissing the soft swell of your breasts, one by one, “Can’t do anythin’ without me,” he says with no conviction. His lips move over your skin. “My helpless sweetheart.”

You barely hear the second part of his sentence, he had uttered the words softly, just above a whisper. The words resonate in you, short-circuiting your brain and shutting out unrelated thoughts. You like this. You like him taking care of you, guiding you. His tone holds no pity, only care.

His thumb follows the lace of your bra, tongue tasting the salt of your skin. You whine as your knees weeken, his mouth has no right feeling this good. He cups them from underneath and slowly pushes the satin fabric up, calloused palm grazing your peaked nipples. He swirls his tongue around the areola then closes his lips around the hardened flesh. Your back arches, filling his mouth with more of you. He groans as he opens his mouth wider, teeth softly caressing the skin.

“Jaack,” you breathe out as you shift from one leg to the other. Your panties stick uncomfortably to your core. You palm him through his jeans, feeling the weight of him. He sucks your nipple harder, pinching the other one. You want to taste him. “Let me,” you say, already going down.

Much to your surprise, he stills your movements. “No,” he groans. “Let me take care of you first.”

He pushes your arms behind you, locking your wrists together with one hand. Your breath stills when you feel the leather of his belt circling your wrists. “Can I?” he asks, breath fanning your neck.

Your stomach flips and not trusting yourself to remain upright, you brace yourself by dropping your forehead to his shoulder. Your entire body is winded. You place a small, chaste kiss over his clavicle, his chest raises with a deep inhale.

“Just promise this isn’t where you tie me up and steal my watch,” you joke, immediately regretting it when you look up to see his brows drawn together, a small snarl tracing his lips. “Sorry, that was in bad taste.”

“We don’t have to,” he says, his grip around your hands loosening. “And if we do we can stop whenever. I just. . .” he swallows thickly. Anticipation burrows into your skin. “I like the idea of you trustin’ me to make you feel good.”

“I do trust you,” you answer quickly. “And I want to. I just wasn’t aware how much I wanted it which is why I made that dumb joke.”

“I’m sure you can make it up to me,” he answers with a crooked grin. Suddenly, he tightens the belt around you and you let out a quick gasp, his lips are on your instantly, teeth nipping at your chin. “Does this feel okay?” he asks, slightly tugging on the leather.

It’s funny how such a simple thing can alter one’s mindset. You’re almost subdued, in a way, completely at his mercy. However, you don’t feel helpless either. His heavy palms move up and down your arms, you quiver as you drip for him, wetness gathering between your folds. You’re breathing heavily, heart bellowing in your chest, loud and strong. His skin against yours feels warmer somehow.

“Yeah,” you answer. “Feels more than okay.”

You hear the smile in his voice, “Well a’right then,” he helps you towards the bed, you drop head first into the pillows, hands securely at your back. His lips brush the tender skin between your shoulder blades. “Gonna taste this sweet pussy now, sunshine. I’ve been eager for dessert.”

“God, the mouth on you,” you swallow, feeling his breath ghosting your wet core. “You’re gonna be the death of me.”

“Not yet,” he sighs, kissing right where the curve of your ass begins. “First I gotta make you come.”

You’re in the midst of thinking of a quip to answer with when you feel it. The wet, warmth of his tongue gliding up between your folds. Your body coils and unwinds almost simultaneously. He moves his jaw, pushing his tongue deeper. He traces your entrance with a pointed tip, licking himself deeper. The sound he makes are sinful—loud in the silence of the room.

Your wrists strain against the restraint, you push back wanting more of him. He groans into you, the reverberations seeping into your cunt. You’re withering helplessly, heat coiling tight in your stomach as your insides flutter and clench around nothing. Jack parts you with two fingers, his teeth like daggers against the sensitive flesh. With a loud cry, you feel your slick dripping out of you, making a mess of his face.

“That’s my girl,” he rasps, giving you another fat stroke of his tongue. His hand comes up to your asscheek, kneading the flesh playfully. You relax at the touch and drool over the pillows. It’s too much, yet not nearly enough. He circles his tongue around your throbbing clit and sucks it between his lips, you jolt at the pleasure and wiggle helplessly.

He gives you a gentle, yet firm, smack on the ass. A whimper echoes in your throat, your eyes shutting closed as your nails bite into your sweaty palms. “Settle,” he warns, voice deep and rich like molasses. “Use your words when you want something darlin’. Or else you ain’t getting it.”

You make a sound between a choke and a moan, despite your non-answer answer, he seems to understand.

“You want my fingers, sweetheart?”

You nod, another moan slipping from your lips.

He presses his lips over the heated skin and you keen at the soft touch of his mouth. “Can’t wait to be filled, hm?” he grins “You think you’re wet enough to take two, darlin’?”

The tips of his fingers press against your entrance, his touch nothing but a tease. “Yeah,” you answer, voice hoarse. He kisses your core before pushing two fingers in, they slide in easily, the sound of how et you are making you shudder.

“That’s my good girl,” he praises. “Fuckin’ soaked for her cowboy.”

He moves his fingers in and out of your slickened depths, coating them. His tongue returns to your cunt, your head left spinning as his talented tongue flicks, licks, and swirls. He moves his fingers in time with his tongue, plunging deeper into your sopping core.

Jack’s free hand roams your body, cupping your breasts as the intensity of his movements increases. His thumb brushes your hard nipple as he pulls you closer to his mouth, greedy to take more of you. Sparks of pleasure zig-zag through your body and you gasp as pleasure heaves through you.

Your hips buck as he moves his fingers faster, slipping them in then out with a maddening rhythm. His tongue slides faster and harder against your clit and you arch your back. You feel yourself clenching around his fingers, pleasure building and building until you’re a trembling mass panting for release.

Jack’s fingers fill you up to the brim, your inner walls quivering and contracting around them, eager for more. He pinches your nipples, sending shivers up your spine. You gasp and cry out as you build up towards your peak, trembling against him.

Finally, with one final thrust of his fingers and swipe of his tongue, you let out a loud moan as your orgasm rocks your entire body. Your walls weakly gripping his fingers as the pleasure spreads through your body, leaving you a boneless, exhausted mess.

He pulls his fingers from you and kisses your neck tenderly. “Oh darlin’,” his deep voice whispers into your ear before trailing kisses down your jaw. “Look at you, fuckin’ gorgeous.”

His cock lays heavy above your ass, smearing precum across your skin. You whimper, rolling your hips back, showing him what you need. His breath hitches. He meets your movements, slowly, grinding onto you.

“You want my cock?”

“Y-Yes, please,” your eyes roll as he teases you with the fat tip of his lenght. But before he fills you, a longing stirs in your chest. “Wait,” you gasp and he still in an instant, without looking at him you know his eyes are painted with worry. “I want to see you.”

“See me?” he repeats slowly, as if the words are foreign to his tongue.

“Please,” you add. “I want to touch you too.”

Swiftly, he unties you and throws the belt to the floor. Your arms drop loosely to your sides, a pleasant ache stirring in your muscles. Jack turns you side ways, your thighs offering him a velvet entrance to your tight heat. He caresses your back, his touch soothing. When your gaze meet his, there’s a slightly hesitation in them. Almost like he’s afraid of something.

“Is this alright?” he asks and you nod, reaching out to him. He sighs as your arms weakly wrap themselves around his neck, pulling him in for a deep kiss.

While your tongues intertwine, he enters you. Just like he promised, he does it slowly, every ridge felt by you. You tear away from him with a gasp, you’re overwhelmed by the size of him, stretching your sensitive cunt perfectly. When he’s buried himself in your completey, he pulls out in an equally slow manner. Your jaw drops wide, your walls trembling at the slow guide. The inside of your thighs shake. With only the tip inside, he pushes forward, slowly. Your nails bite into his back, tension coiling in your stomach as he presses his lips against yours once more.

“So warm,” he groans, eyes staring deep into yours. “Fuckin’ pussy was made for me.”

“Yes,” you cry out, holding him closer. “Made for you, Jack. Made for your cock.”

His hips stutter and your eyes go wide, a gutteral moan tainting your lips. “Please,” you beg. “Please, please, please—”

“Please. . . what, darlin’?” his lips brush your teary eyelids.

“Fuck me,” you whisper. “I-It’s too much, please just fuck me. Stop teasing.”

“Alright, sugar. I won’t.”

There’s a small window of clarity where the softness of his voice catches you off guard, but that feeling is quickly replaced by the overwhelming strike of pleasure hitting your spine. His demeanour completely changes. Slow and sensual grind of his hips becoming fast and merciless, he snaps into you, length gliding against a spot you can barely reach with your fingers. He breathes into your neck. Your mind is in a complete haze, the four walls around you dssapearing from existence.

You yelp when he flips you over to your back, spreading your trembling legs wide, his thumb falls on your clit and he begins to draw fast, precise circles around the bundle of nerves. You scream his name, pulsing around him as he fucks you deeper, harder until you’re coming undone around him once again.

You squeeze him tight before gushing around him, your back arching almost painfully with his continued thrusts. Pleasure rolls over your body in the form of tidal waves, and just as you’re coming down from your high, he pulls out, spilling over your stomach.

You look at him blearily, eyes barely able to focus on the heavy way his chest moves. He breathes heavily, the muscles that surround his stomach tense. Before you can utter a word, Jack dips down, claiming your lips in a heady kiss that you can only describe as a finality.

Jack parts away and hops off of the bed.

Your eyes widen, confusion swirling in them. Why is he getting dressed? You’re still within a heavy haze of pleasure, your surroundings feeling disoriented and dreamlike. With a weak hand, you reach towards him, hoping the action will convey to him not to go.

Jack already has one leg shoved into his pants when he sees you. Helpless. Needy. Your heart suddenly feels too big for your chest, tears build in your eyes. He hasn’t said anything yet, but you know. You just do.

He’s quick to clamber over to you, dropping to his knees and taking your hand into his own before dragging damp lips over your knuckles. Your chest heaves. You don’t want him to go.

“I’m sorry,” he says, voice choked. “I can’t stay.”

“Why?”

He ignores your question, “I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to stop by the club either, darlin’.”

“Don’t call me that,” you snap. He stiffens at your tongue, shoulders raising. He still has your hand enclosed in his. Your eyes sting. “I thought. . . I thought you liked me. . .”

You hate the way your voice cracks. You hate seeing the remorse in his eyes. You hate how tortured he looks, as if you’re the one hurting him.

“This ain’t gonna work out. Whatever it is.”

“Then why even come here? Why even. . .” you viciously pull your hand back, startling him. He stands as you straighten, leaning against the bed rest. You reek of sweat and sex. Marks of him, all of it, on you, on the bed, on the pillows. You cross your arms over your chest, refusing to pull up a blanket over your naked body. Refusing to be ashamed.

It doesn’t matter. Embarrassment sears your skin.

He doesn’t answer and you realize. Your heart lurches, your stomach dropping and churning uncomfortably. You can’t breathe—fuck, you can’t breathe.

“This was a goodbye,” you say coldly, the next words you whisper, broken. “That’s why you were distracted in the kitchen. You knew this was going to be a one-time thing.”

Anger flashes in his eyes, surprising you, “I thought somewhere along the way you would’ve figured that out too,” he snarls. “Wans’t it obvious from the start this couldn’t go anywhere?”

“It wasn’t obvious to me!” your hands drop from your chest and you’re crawling off the bed to meet him halfway. Just as you’re stepping down, your knees gave way beneath you, still weak. Jack takes a step forward and catches you, one arm securely wrapped around your torso. You push him away. “Fuck you—stop being nice to me!”

“Fuck me?” he repeats, bewildered. “Fuck you! I was just tryin’ to help.”

“Oh please, you were just helping yourself,” you hiss between gritted teeth. “Spare me any favors!”

Silence falls, the air still crackling with tension. You breathe heavily. Both your gazes remain locked on one another, both of you refusing to step down. You feel like a wounded animal, trying to bite back after being kicked.

“Just because someone does the bare minimum,” he says slowly, pulling up his pants. “Don’t mean their kind. I’m not the type of person you think I am, I’m just savin’ you the trouble of figuring it out yourself.”

He shakes his head, tormented.

“I’m sorry whoever it was who hurt you. I’m sorry they made you believe that every person is a shithead that’ll treat you like crap—but that just ain’t true. They are better people out there,” he sighs and pulls his shirt over his head. “I hate the way you look at me.”

“I look at you the same way I look at everyone else.”

“No, you don’t,” he smiles and all oxygen leaves your lungs. It’s a broken smile, the corners of his lips twitch. “You look at me like I’m more than I am. I can’t handle it. Not again.”

Not again.

What does that mean? What happened? What’s again?

The face of the elderly blond woman you barely saw flashes before your eyes. His mother-in-law. You shrink under his gaze, guilt, and regret coursing through your veins. You didn’t ask him how she died. He didn’t let you as and you figured he’d tell you when the time was right.

Now it looks like such a time won’t ever come.

“I’m sorry,” he says for how many times you lost count. His voice cracks. “This is the best for you, I promise, sunshine.”

He leaves and you break.

The way he said sunshine. . . it echoes in the loud emptiness of your bedroom.

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