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#because days have been a blur this whole summer
forwhomthewordsflow · 1 month
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Puppy Love
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modern!eddie munson x fem!reader
18+ ONLY MDNI
warnings: tooth-rotting fluff, a bit suggestive at some parts, language, more fluff
author’s note: this was totally meant to be a small lil blurb but then i ended up getting sucked into it and well…it ended up being a tiny bit longer than i thought.  also, there’s some legal jargon in here that i totally might’ve misused, don’t hate me! i’m not a lawyer i swear! anywho, i’m still pretty new to the whole writing thing so please go easy on me because i’m a crybaby
p.s. i stopped writing it in order to keep the word count from going through the roof, but if you guys would like a part two picking up right where this leaves off then i’m soooo into that, i really love these two!
word count: 5.3k
Let it be known, Eddie Waylon Munson was not a dog person.  This doesn’t mean that Eddie is a cat person either really, he’d actually be more inclined to categorize himself as a fish person, really.  Eddie can hardly take care of himself, who in the hell would think he could take care of another living being?
Steve fucking Harrington.  That’s who.
Under any other circumstances, Eddie would’ve turned him down in a heartbeat when he asked him to watch his Golden Retriever, Captain, for a week while he’s on vacation with his parents. 
“Dude, c’mon.  You owe me one.”
Eddie scoffed.  “Since when do I owe you one?”
“I–There must be something I’ve done for you…” Steve sighs ,”Haven’t I been letting you swim in my pool free of charge?”
“Yeah, me and every single other member of our party.”  Eddie rolls his eyes and crosses his arms, determined to stick to his answer of a hard no.
“Fine,” Steve huffs.  “What if I gave you three hundred bucks for it?”
At this new piece of information, Eddie perked up.  
“Well, well, well Harrington.  Why didn’t you just lead with that?”  The two boys shook hands, and that was that.
Eddie wishes he could’ve said no, but he unfortunately really needed the extra cash.  The weed business had been slow due to the fact that his usual richie-rich-asshole customers are all off “summering” with their rich families wherever it is that the rich families go to do that shit.  
Eddie figured that he could handle this.  Steve assured him that Captain is well trained thanks to the expensive trainers that his parents hired, plus Eddie would get to stay at Hotel de Harrington while he watched the dog.  Eddie will mind his business, Captain will do his own thing, and Eddie would be $300 richer at the end of it all.  Sweet digs and three hundred bucks is just something Eddie doesn’t have the heart to pass up these days.  
Eddie always manages to forget just how gi-fucking-normous the Harrington’s mansion house is.  As Steve leads him through the foyer and into the numerous hallways, Eddie figures he must look like he’s stepping into a house for the first time.  His jaw drops a little at the seemingly priceless artwork that hangs from the walls, the crystal vases lined up on shelves, and the expensive looking furniture placed meticulously all around the house.  He hopes to hell that he doesn’t find some way to fuck something up while he’s shacking up here.  
“I can’t believe you live in this art museum, Harrington.”
Steve scoffs.  “Yeah, it’s all nice and fancy until you think about the fact that all the dumb shit decorating this place could probably feed a small village.”
Eddie stifles a laugh, then hears an excited bark from the other room.
“Okay, time to meet the man himself.  Just warning you, he’s a hugger.”  Steve winks at Eddie and jogs to unlock the door to the backyard.  As soon as the glass door slides open, Eddie sees a blur of blonde fur coming towards him, and then all he can see is the ceiling.
Eddie quickly learns that this is because Captain has knocked him right on his ass.
Captain squirms on top of Eddie, trying his hardest to lick him all over his face and neck while Steve is bent over cackling at the whole ordeal. 
“Okay, okay buddy.  Thanks so much,” Eddie says unenthusiastically while glaring at Steve.  He gently shoves Captain off of him and stands back up, only to look down and realize that his all black outfit is now covered in little golden dog hairs.  This only causes Steve to laugh harder.
Steve straightens back up after being hunched over and sighs, “I warned you man,” then walks past Eddie and into the laundry room, clapping him on the shoulder as he goes.
Captain trots happily behind the boys as Steve shows Eddie where Captain’s food and water bowls are, how much to feed him and when, and where his leash and harness are.  Steve assures him that he doesn’t have to take Captain on a walk or anything if he doesn’t feel like it (he so does not), but he does have a grooming appointment scheduled on the day the Harrington’s set off on their vacation.
Eddie huffs at this revelation.
“I know man, I’m sorry.  My mom had apparently scheduled it months ago and forgot it was on the day we were leaving.  But it’s really easy I swear, you just drop him off at noon, and then pick him back up at three.  It’s already paid for and everything.”  Steve looks at Eddie apologetically, and Eddie figures it won’t be that bad.
Eddie was wrong.  He’s only been watching the dog for an hour and already he knows he’s not cut out for this shit.  Captain is stuck to Eddie like fucking velcro.  Who knew dogs could be so needy?  Eddie goes to sit on the couch?  Captain needs to sit right next to him.  Eddie needs to go to the kitchen to grab a drink?  Captain is practically stepping on his heels as he trails behind him.  Eddie has been pretty lenient so far, it’s only a week right?  But he’d had enough when Captain was demanding to follow him into the bathroom, pawing at the door and whining when Eddie wouldn’t let him in.  
Thank god for that goddamn grooming appointment.
Despite being only a couple hours into this gig, Eddie needed some alone time.  
Captain seemed just as excited to get out of the house when Eddie fought to put his harness on him.  He never thought he’d ever be spending a full ten minutes practically wrestling with a 70 pound dog, but Captain just wouldn’t sit still.  After all was said and done, Captain sat and waited next to the front door calmly, while Eddie emerged sweaty and breathing heavily.
The grooming salon ended up being only ten minutes away from Steve’s house, which Eddie was thankful for since Captain decided to sit shotgun and stare at Eddie the entire way over.  On the outside, the place looked fancy.  Eddie scoffed a bit at the Grecian columns bracketing the entrance, and the name of the salon printed in gold swoopy letters across the large window panes in the front.  He couldn’t believe people were willing to shell out enough cash to bring their dogs to a place like this all for a haircut.  Eddie looks over at Captain, who is of course staring at him…still, and sighs.
“Here goes nothing I guess.”
Eddie wrangles Captain out of his van and into the salon, hoping to God that these people wouldn’t be able to smell the poor on him.  
What actually occurred was quite the opposite.
Upon opening the glass doors, Eddie was hit with a whoosh of cool air and a small bell chimed to let the employees know that someone had walked in.  Captain was apparently very excited by the gust of air, and decided to jump in circles around and through Eddie’s legs.  While Eddie was caught up in detangling himself so he doesn’t fall flat on his face, he hadn’t noticed you walking up to them.  
“Hi there, need some help?” 
Eddie looked up and could’ve sworn he heard a choir of angels singing.
You stood there smiling at him, the prettiest girl Eddie had ever seen in his 24 years of life on Earth.  He doesn’t think he’d ever had someone smile at him like that before, but he knows he could definitely get used to it. 
While you were waiting for Eddie to respond, you noticed that his dog’s leash was still quite tangled around his legs.  Deciding to take things into your own hands, you take a few steps back and kneel down to the ground to call the dog to you.  He comes bounding up to you, causing his leash to slide smoothly out from under Eddie’s legs, rendering him untangled at last.
Eddie blinks, suddenly he’s untangled and Captain is jumping up onto you, ever the hugger.  
He finally gets his head out of his ass and jogs up to you, grabbing Captain’s leash and yanking him off of you.
“Bad boy, Captain.  We’re supposed to ask for consent before hugging pretty girls.”
Eddie is elated when he spots a blush crawling up your cheeks.  You stand and brush yourself off.
“It’s really okay.  Captain has my consent to hug me any time he wants!”  Your voice had risen to a puppy-talk octave, Eddie never imagined he’d find that so adorable.  You lean down again to scratch Captain behind the ears, and the dog looks up at you with stars in his eyes.  Eddie, having caught a whiff of your perfume as you bent down, is sporting the same look.
You straighten up with a happy sigh and look up at Eddie with a grin. 
“Well then, now that we’re all introduced, how can I help you?”
Eddie all at once forgets why he’s here, caught up in your beautiful gaze.  He feels like he should shield his eyes from yours, lest he burst into flames from taking in your beauty. 
“I’m—uh...I’m grooming.   N-no, that’s not right, sorry.”  You giggle quietly while he tries to finish his sentence.
Eddie laughs at his own stupidity.  
“Sorry.  He’s getting groomed, he should have an appointment under Harrington I think?”
“Sure, let me check on that.” You turn away from him to walk back towards the front desk, and boy is it a treat for Eddie.  You’re wearing a cute company t-shirt, white sneakers, and these perfect fucking denim jeans that cause Eddie’s to get a little tighter.  They must’ve been tailor-made for you with the way they’re hugging your thighs, your hips, your ass–
“Alright, I’m seeing that Captain is just here for his routine trim, yes?”  You look from your computer screen up at Eddie to find him already staring at you with his mouth slightly open.  The look on his face makes you giggle a bit, and this seems to snap him out of his daze.
“Uh, yes.  That sounds right.”  Eddie shakes his head a bit to rid himself of all the impure thoughts swirling around in there.  “I’m just bringing him in for a friend, so whatever’s on there should be right.”
You pretend to type some more as you try and find the will to push down the blush warming your cheeks.  You already clocked that he was gorgeous when he stumbled through the front doors, but how in the hell does he keep getting better?  You noticed the bulge of his bicep when he yanked Captain off of you, the warm chestnut color of his eyes, and now his super-sexy-deep voice?  Being turned on at work was not on your agenda today…
After a few seconds of nonsense typing and very deep breaths, you look back up at Eddie to find him smiling at you.
“That’s really sweet of you, to help out your friend.”
Eddie puffs out his chest (as though he hasn’t been mentally complaining about watching Steve’s dog for multiple hours).  
“Yeah, I do what I can to help.” Eddie shrugs his shoulders in a way he hopes comes across as ’Yeah baby, I’m just a helpful guy.  Super nice, super sweet, definitely boyfriend material..’
You grin and finish getting Captain all checked in.  
“Alrighty!  Captain’s all good to go.  I can get him taken back and then we’ll see you in three hours.”  
Your sweet smile has Eddie captivated until he realizes you’re holding your hand out for Captain’s leash.  Eddie reluctantly hands it over, because now he has to wait a whole three hours to see you again.  You take the leash, wave ‘bye’ to Eddie, and walk through the door that leads to the rest of the salon.  Eddie lets out a deep sigh.
Goddamnit.
Three hours turned out to feel more like three days when it meant waiting to see your face again.  Eddie arrived fifteen minutes early to the salon (a first) and waited anxiously for Captain’s scheduled pickup time to roll around.  Eddie strutted into the salon not a second too late before screeching to a halt.
In your place, stood a much older, much rounder lady.  Eddie deflated a little, cursing himself for not finding out if you’d even be here at this time.  He huffs out a breath, and begins walking up to the front desk. 
Then, a thought pops into his head.
Maybe, if he’s nice enough, he can ask the older woman about you.  Then at least he’d have your name and maybe even when you were working next!
Eddie decides it’s time to amp up the ol’ Munson Charm.
His tentative walk turns into a swagger-filled stroll as he reaches the front desk.  Eddie leans on an elbow and smiles a devilish smile down at the woman.  She looks up at him with wide eyes as he dings the silver bell that sits on the desk, winking at her while he does it.
“H-How can I help you sir?”
“Oh sweetheart, please…call me Eddie.”  He goes on after she spends a moment too long gazing up at him, “And who might you be?”
She gulps and straightens her horned glasses.  “B-Betty.  Betty Brown.”
“Hello, Betty Brown,” Eddie can tell his charming smile is having an effect on her, and he’d be lying if it wasn’t boosting his ego a tiny bit.  “I’m here to pick up my dog, Captain.  Brought him by a few hours ago to get his haircut…you know how he likes to impress the ladies.”
Betty nods and takes a deep breath before turning to the computer to try and hide her smile. 
“Okay, Mr. Eddie.  I checked him out with the card on file, he should be up here shortly.” 
“Thanks, sweetheart.” Eddie waits a moment, before launching into his plan.  “I was actually hoping you could help me with a little something else.” 
Betty looks back up at him, blushing when they make eye contact.
“See, when I was in here earlier, there was a really nice girl helping me out.  But, silly me, I completely forgot to ask what her name was.”
To Eddie’s delight, Betty’s face lights up in recognition.  She says your name with so much glee that it’s obvious to him how loved you must be around here.
“Yes, she got off an hour ago.  She usually works the morning shifts, except on Fridays because those are her days off.”
Eddie quickly learned that underneath Betty’s bashful smile was a woman who loved to talk, and he couldn’t be happier for it.  Eddie quickly learned how long you’ve worked here, that you don’t have any pets of your own, and that last Christmas you brought the most delicious homemade cookies for the entire staff.  He also learned that you’ll be working again for the next two mornings.  
Eddie left with Captain and a smile on his face, but not before pressing a kiss to sweet, sweet Betty’s hand.  Thanks to her, Eddie’s confidence is restored and he actually thinks he might have a shot with you.  All he has to do now is figure out what his reasons will be for coming back to the salon two days in a row.  
He spent all evening pacing around the Harrington’s house trying to come up with excuses to come see you.  All of the ones he’d thought of so far made him look like even more of a jackass than he did today.  
I thought I might’ve dropped my wallet somewhere around here.  A gorgeous girl isn’t going to want to go out with a guy who drops his shit everywhere.  Pass.
I think Captain needs a little more of a haircut, maybe just another half inch off?  First of all, Eddie doesn’t know shit about haircuts.  He’s been doing his own with kitchen scissors in his bathroom mirror for over a decade.  Second, he would never risk potentially offending you and your work as a dog groomer on the off chance that you’re the one who cut Captain’s hair.  And lastly, for a dog, he’s got to admit that Captain looks pretty damn good after his appointment.  Who knew a dog could look so regal and majestic?  Anyways, PASS.
It was only after Eddie had plopped down on the leather couch with a huff of defeat that he heard the first few plinks of raindrops hitting the windows.  Eddie went to his phone to check the forecast for the rest of the night, and as luck would have it, there was a 100% chance of thunderstorms until tomorrow morning.  As all the pieces of his new plan began stitching themselves together, Eddie finally allowed himself to relax.
Eddie used to hate his “backyard,” if you could even call it that.  Behind the trailer was a medium sized patch of dirt, with some sorry-looking green plant-things trying their best to survive scattered about.  The only times Eddie would really look forward to going outside to play as a kid, much to Wayne’s dismay, was when it rained.  Because when it rained, the once dry and grainy surface turned into slippery, messy mud.  Eddie used to love sliding around and making mud pies and all of that stuff, and right now it seems like Captain is having just as much fun, if not more, than Eddie used to.  
The yard was fenced in, so Eddie wasn’t too worried about Captain running away despite Steve’s promises that he’s ‘leash-trained’.  Eddie planned to tell you otherwise though.
‘He just somehow managed to get away from me.  Yeah, I had to chase him all through the mud and dirt this morning.  But I caught him because I’m like, really fast and strong and stuff.’
He does feel a little guilty about lying to you.  But he figures that if it’s something the two of you can laugh over at your wedding someday, then it’s well worth the little white lies.
Eddie’s brought back from his reverie of you in a long, white dress by Captain dropping the mud-soaked tennis ball at his feet…again.
He couldn’t believe how much energy this dog had.  They’d already been out here for twenty minutes and Captain just kept going and going.  Eddie did have to admit, it was sort of fun watching him play.  He even found himself laughing out loud when Captain would get the ball stuck in a puddle of mud and not hesitate to dunk his entire head in to retrieve it.  There was even one point where Captain got so excited and amped up that he just zoomed around in circles over and over again. 
Maybe dogs aren’t so bad after all.
After another ten minutes of chasing around the now mud-covered tennis ball, Captain decides he’s done playing and sits down at Eddie’s feet.  Eddie can’t help but notice that he’s panting pretty hard.  “You must be thirsty, huh?”
Eddie runs inside the trailer to grab a tupperware bowl and fills it with cold water from the tap.  He hopes to god that Captain hasn’t run away already, he’s decided to really put Steve’s whole “leash training” thing to the test.  But sure enough, when Eddie shoves his front door open there he is, sitting nicely at the foot of the trailer’s steps.  Eddie pats his head, then promptly wipes the flaky, dried mud off onto his jeans.  “Good boy.” 
After Captain is done drinking water, Eddie looks him over to ensure that he is completely and totally covered head-to-toe in mud.  Letting out a satisfied sigh, he decides that it’s time for the next stage of his plan to take action.  
He loads Captain into the back of his van (Eddie makes sure to drive especially slow, and Captain pretty much lays down the whole time) and he sets off towards the salon.  
Eddie is practically vibrating with anticipation as he puts his van into park.  He’s ecstatic when he sees your beautiful face smiling after two customers as they exit the salon.  Eddie turns around in his seat to see Captain.
“Okay, buddy.  It’s showtime.  I need you to bring your A-game and be a real good wingman for me in there.  Got it?”
Captain tilts his head at Eddie, as though he didn’t understand a thing he said, but then straightens up and lets out a firm bark.  A laugh bursts out of Eddie as he turns the van off and goes to get Captain from the back.  Before rounding the side of his van, and while he’c completely out of your sight, he does a quick smell test on his pits and breath, and then double checks his hair and teeth in the reflection of his rear windows.  After deeming himself presentable, he takes a big deep breath.
“Don’t be stupid, Munson.  Think charming thoughts,” he says under his breath as he starts towards the front door.  
You’d be lying to yourself if you said you weren’t sticking around fifteen minutes after your shift was over yesterday in the hopes that Eddie would decide to come back early to pick up Captain.  It’s rare that a guy comes into the salon who looks to be around your age and single, but it’s much rarer that they’re as good-looking as Eddie is.  You spent the entire drive home and the rest of the night fantasizing about his voice, his big hands, his laugh.  You wondered what he did while he waited for Captain’s appointment to be done, what his favorite movie was, his favorite food…But most of all, you wondered if you were making up this mutual attraction in your head?  The nervous stuttering and blushing could just be from nervousness, but he was definitely staring at you a few times.  You also wonder whether or not you had actually caught him staring at your ass…but maybe it’s best not to get ahead of yourself.  Maybe he has a girlfriend.  Maybe he doesn’t even see you that way?  Maybe you should get a grip because you’re basing all of this delusion fantasy off of a ten minute conversation you had with the guy.  Leave it to you to construct a made-up scenario in your head after a short interaction with a new crush.
Be that as it may…you still made sure to carve out an extra half hour to get ready for your shift today.  You blow-dried your hair using your fancy products, spent quite a bit of time on your makeup, and spritzed some perfume on before you left.  You even made sure to wear the same jeans as you did the day before, just in case he was looking. 
The first half of your shift was spent hunched over the front desk, it was an extremely slow day so far.  You found yourself perking up a bit whenever a dark haired individual would walk by the front of the salon, only to droop back down again at the realization that it wasn’t who you wished it was.  With all the rain that came down in Hawkins last night, you figured more people would be making last minute appointments to have their dogs bathed, you’d hoped that today would be busy enough to keep your mind from wandering to a certain pair of warm, brown eyes.  But as your shift crawled towards the halfway point, suddenly things started looking up.
As excited as you were to spot a familiar gorgeous man walking into the salon again, you couldn’t conceal the look of shock on your face once your eyes landed on his mud-covered companion.
“Oh–oh my god!”  Eddie couldn’t quite read your expression, but he was relieved to hear a laugh bubble out of you after your exclamation.  He stood there sheepishly for a moment before he remembered his plan: Be. Charming.
You walk out from behind the desk with a hand covering your mouth, not quite believing what you were seeing.  There stood Captain, proudly smiling and panting, covered head to paw in mud.  Another laugh bubbled out of you, and you were pleased to find Eddie laughing with you.  
Goddamnit, that’s a sexy laugh he’s got.
“What…what happened to you?” You say to Captain, bending down to gently pat his head. 
“This absolute miscreant here got out of the house this morning and found himself a nice, muddy yard to roll around in.”  Eddie looked at you with a grin that made your knees weak.
He looked you up and down while you straightened back up.  Was there a way for someone to get a thousand times more beautiful overnight?
A blush rose to your cheeks as you caught him checking you out.  That settles it, he’s definitely flirting with you.  If he can be so forward about it, maybe you can too.
You look up at Eddie through your lashes, making sure to flutter them a couple times for good measure.
“Aw.  And here I was thinking you’d gotten him all dirty just so you could come and see me again.”
Eddie stills.  
Fuck, he can’t believe how hot you are. 
 Fuck, was his plan really that shitty?  Did you just call him out?  
Eddie’s panicking is subdued by your quiet giggle.  Thank god, you were kidding.
“It’s a good thing you managed to catch him, he looks like the type to go on an adventure in the woods.”  Eddie startles, quickly realizing he’d been full-on staring at you while conducting his mental freak-out.
“Oh, yeah.  I’m–like….fast…” Eddie can feel himself getting lost in your eyes as you stare up at him.  His words trail off into oblivion, nothing else exists other than your pretty smile, the little crinkles next to your eyes, your lips…
Holy shit, is Eddie staring at your lips right now?  Is he going to kiss you?  God, you hope he does, you’ve been fantasizing about his lips for hours now.  You can’t let him kiss you right here in the lobby…can you?
Eddie shakes his head a little, breaking himself from the trance you put him under.  
“Ahem, yeah,” Eddie loudly cleared his throat ,”It was no big deal, really.  He’s a good dog, came right back after he realized he was in the wrong.”  Eddie looked down at Captain, only to find him looking right back up at him, obviously judging him for his outright lies.  Eddie looks up at you, shrugging and shaking his head disapprovingly.  He lets out a big, over dramatic sigh ,”I just don’t know what I’m gonna do with this one.”
“Well it’s obviously not his fault,” you reply, “Look at that face!  That face could never do anything wrong.  I should know, I’m actually his lawyer.”  Eddie spots your poorly concealed smirk and decides to jump head first into this bit with you, excited to see if you can keep up.
“Oh really?”  He crosses his arms and takes a tiny step towards you.  This causes his t-shirt to pull taught around his arms, accentuating his biceps.  Your mouth waters a bit.
“Yes, really.  My client is as innocent as they come.”  You place your hands on your hips and look up at him with a level of sass Eddie had no idea you were capable of.  He decides that he loves it. 
“Huh, that’s interesting.  I totally object.” 
“Are you implying that he acted with intent?  Are you attempting to slander my client?” You place your hand on your chest in a “pearl-clutching” type of way, Eddie stifles a laugh.
“I am indeed.  He knew exactly what he was doing when he ran out that door, the evidence is all over his fur,” Eddie replies.
“My client was just following his nose, any mess that ensued was purely circumstantial.  He is innocent of any and all wrongdoing.”  Eddie feels like he’s got stars in his eyes, he can already picture you fitting in so perfectly into a DnD campaign.  You take his pause as a sign to bring your argument home.
“This is a clear case of prosecutorial overreach.  My client was acting in the best interest of the household, ensuring that the yard was thoroughly inspected for potential threats, pests, intruders, or otherwise.  Any mud on his fur is merely a badge of his dedication to home security.”  You cross your arms, clearly having won this fake-case.  
Eddie takes a step back and starts a slow clap.  You take a tiny bow and burst into a fit of giggles.
“I’m impressed, sweetheart.” You hope Eddie doesn’t see how affected you are by that nickname.  “Where the hell did all the legal jargon come from?”
“I used to watch a lot of Law and Order.”  You look down, suddenly shy with a sparkly feeling in your chest.  You really hope you didn’t come across as super weird.  It’s been a while since you’ve been able to have banter like that with someone else.  Hawkins isn’t a very diverse place, and you’ve found that the majority of the people living here tend to be pretty cookie-cutter conservative.  It feels great to let loose a little with someone you’re interested in, you just hope you’ll get more opportunities to do it.
Eddie, on the other hand, can’t stop looking at you.  Is this what falling in love feels like?  The girls in this town all seem to have made their own assumptions and come to their own conclusions about Eddie: he’s a devil worshiper, a satanist, a hookup to check off their bucket list and then never speak to again.  But not you, obviously.  You don’t look at him with the same disgust in your eyes as everyone else in this town does.  Your eyes are full of a kindness and warmth that Eddie could see himself getting used to.
“So, uh,” Eddie rambles, “What’s the verdict for Mr. Captain?”  Captain perks up at the sound of his name, you giggle at the tilt of his head.
“Hm,” You tap your finger to your chin and look off into the distance, “I think a nice, relaxing bath would do.  Maybe a couple treats, too, for being such a good boy.”  You squat down to Captain’s height to scratch him behind the ears, and Eddie can’t help but cringe a little at the flakes of dried mud that drift down off of Captain’s head and onto the floor.
You grab Captain’s leash from Eddie as you stand back up, walking him over to the desk to get him checked in at the computer.  He’s delighted to discover that you’re wearing the same pair of jeans as you were yesterday, and he mentally kicks himself for sneaking another peek at the way your hips sway as you walk.  Eddie deflates a little at the realization that this might be the end of this interaction.  He never wants to stop talking to you.  
“I’m guessing the card on file is what we’ll be using today?”  You ask sweetly, looking up at Eddie.
“Uh, yeah.  Yeah that’s just fine, thank you.” 
Holding eye contact with Eddie, you murmur “,You’re very welcome,” with a smile.
Oh, Eddie is so totally fucked.
Eddie watches as you walk Captain to the hallway door and hand his leash off to a younger girl.  You happily trot back up to the front desk and lean on it with your smiling face resting in your hands.
“Oh, you– you’re not giving him his bath?” Eddie stammers out.
“Nope.” You reply, popping the ‘p.’ “I’m stuck on front desk duty today.”  
Eddie sighs, relieved that your conversation might not be over.  He puts his elbows on the counter and leans towards you a bit. “Well, it can’t be all that bad.”
Your smile widens and you tilt your head, “I think it’s starting to get better.”
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jelliedink · 10 months
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DILF!Boss Headcannons
Warnings: manipulative behaviour, huge age gap. If you squint, you'll see this is slightly suggestive, but nothing explicit happens here. Author's note: hi my loves! If you guys don't know @sweet-as-an-angel do yourself a favor and check them out. Their Yandere!DILF series has built a 3-store mansion in my head and is living there rent free, so I just HAD to create another manipulative hot older man to call mine. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did. Take care!
Dividers by @cafekitsune.
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Brain melting thinking about an older boss that realizes you find him attractive the moment you start working for him. He's sure he's got at least 20 years on you, but he can't help but feel flattered.
A boss that finds it delightful to toy with you a little bit: getting his face way too close to yours when he's reviewing your work, a hand gently rubbing your shoulders when giving you feedback. He tells himself that it's just "harmless fun", you're so cute trying to hide how flustered you are!
A boss that watches with curiosity how you grow on him more each day seeing how hard you work and how eager you are to learn everything he teaches you.
A boss who acts as a mentor professionally and insists you can confide in him with your life problems too. He's already lived everything you're going through now, and he just wants to see you thrive.
A boss that starts to invite you to a lot of work related events once summer break starts. His ex-wife is travelling with the kids and the house just feels so lonely without them.
A boss that, upon the discovery that you're single, is sure that the gods gifted you for him to turn into his perfect little doll.
A boss that likes to give you little gifts "for your hard work" every now and then, and they get increasingly more expensive.
A boss who's so subtle when blurring the lines between professional and personal relationships that the word "date" doesn't even cross your mind when he starts to invite you to non work related events.
"Have you seen this artist is coming to town with their new exposition?" "The weather is nice today, how about we visit the japanese garden to freshen up after spending the whole week inside the office?"
A boss who never corrects anyone who refers to you as a couple during your outings, and instead laughs it off, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and giving you a playful wink every time this happens. He even turns it into a internal joke, and soon you get used to hear him calling you his darling, his dear, his precious.
A boss that makes sure to have you yearning for him before making his move. Sometimes he kisses your hands when you're out together, always saying how lucky he is to have such a beautiful company, his lips gently running along your fingers. Other times he caresses your face when you go to him for advice. His hugs are tight, so his scent will linger on your clothes. He might even kiss the top of your head every now and then.
A boss who loves to see you getting used to having him always present in your life, getting flustered when he touches you in ways that are intimate just enough to keep you guessing.
A boss that thinks you're so beautiful and so hard working that he'll take how much time he needs to mould you into a perfect wife and a perfect mother for his children. He'll guarantee that your life will be so enmeshed with his that you'll never be able to leave him, even if you want to. This time he'll create a family so perfect that nothing will tear it apart.
A boss who knows he doesn't need to rush things because he's sure you'll be his in the end. You're so young, so malleable, and he's been playing this game for so much longer than you. He knows just what he needs to do to wrap you around his fingers.
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nanaminokanojo · 11 months
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Honey, Oh Sugar, Sugar
JJK men as your sugar daddies and what happens when you tell them you're breaking​ things off cause you've secretly fallen for them and "breached" the contract. Or me just being hung up on the whole concept of sugar daddies cause I don’t wanna work anymore and I need Nanami in my life.
Characters: Nanami, Toji, Gojo x you/afab reader TW/CW: angst | smut/implied smut | sorta dubcon | age gaps | aged up characters | kind fluffy | mentions of alcohol/drugs | some mafia stuff | mdni Word Count: 8.1k
MASTERLIST
NANAMI
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'I can't see you right now.'
Those words glared at you, sharp black slashes that marred the white backdrop of your screen. They may not carry much weight without context, but they broke you a thousand times weighed on you like the sky had fallen over, crushing you as you heard the voice behind the words, making you regret every other choice you've made so far.
They blurred out as tears started to flood your eyes, falling on the device in your hand, but the pain they caused didn't fade in the least. If anything, you felt exponentially worse, enough to make you wish for death. It was more for the fact that you knew it was your fault, a result of your weakness and lack of prudence, your over-estimation of yourself and biting off more than you can chew. 
Still, how were you to know back then? How the fuck were you supposed to know that things would end up making you feel as miserable as you did? How the fuck could you have been able to tell that you'd be wishing to tear yourself away from the only thing that seemed to make your life make sense? 
If you were told that gods existed and walked in Prussian blue button-downs and khaki shorts as they surveyed their domain from the balcony of their private beach houses, you wouldn't have believed it. But Nanami Kento came into your life in that same exact form, a stoic, tall blonde, ten years your senior, successful in all his endeavors but always too busy for anything. 
Nanami Kento was your best friend's neighbor – at least at their beach-front rest house. It was funny how he was supposed to be this well-known yet aloof individual in the community. And yet, the moment you were introduced to him, he purposefully made a way to be around you where you fell into easy conversation with him. Your friend told you their neighbor hardly ever stayed at his summer retreat for longer than two days, popping out one day only to be replaced by the caretakers who would then tell them that "Nanami-san had an emergency business trip." On top of that, he never really showed up when your friend's parents would invite him for whatever, consistently declining politely, but because of you, he finally honored one of their invitations. 
However, it made you wonder what he found so interesting in a university student like you when his life was so much more exciting, being the founder of his own company. He was a bachelor at thirty two, and he's got everything figured out while you were in the final year of your higher education, and you still didn't know what to do with your life. 
The reason became evident when you met him again after insisting that you should before you parted that evening at the beach, even leaving you his calling card. 
How your conversation went from how his work was going and how your studies were to his proposition for you to be basically his sugar baby was something you couldn't fathom at that time. He just went on about coming clean and expressing his real intentions, then later asked you to think about it before dishing out a conversation about how the two of you should meet again to draft the parameters of your arrangement. Nanami later apologized, smiling apologetically for startling you – the biggest understatement of the century – adding that he wasn't one to beat around the bush. 
"I hope I didn't scare you away," he said when dropping you off to campus.
A week later, you signed a contract with him, and then he kissed you, taking your breath away instead of shaking your hand to seal your pact. Everything went smoothly. It seemed a good idea back then. Boy you wished there was a time when you could have been more mistaken in your life. 
You let out a mirthless laugh as you realized you were at the end of the rope regarding Nanami. You cannot handle it anymore when, for the past half year, you've been putting off talking to him about the state of matters from your end. You know you're breaching your agreement, which is a testament to the reality of your liaisons. You failed at keeping it emotionless, evidently, and every single time you think about coming clean and facing rejection, you felt like cowering in fear. 
You already know how binding those agreements were. Nanami had been clear about what he wanted, and you also agreed because you thought you wanted precisely that – an arrangement without commitment, one you can easily get out of without issues. He would not want you if he knew the truth, and although it took far too much strength and courage to accept it, you managed. But now that you have finally decided to speak to him, he tells you he can't be there. Then again, you didn't even have the right to demand his time. 
It came in a cocktail of emotions when you realized you didn't want his money or anything else he had to offer. You only wanted one thing: his heart. Too bad it was off the table. It's not something he offered to ever be in your contract. 
You hated yourself for being weak, for opening up when you should have remained frozen even towards him. But you couldn't help it when your heart started confusing his caring side for actual feelings over his usual acts of reminding you that he was still the older one between you and actually had the responsibility to take care of you whether you've got an arrangement or not.
You sure as hell didn't regret the perks that came with it – trips to any place you could name, things you get with just one word, and the amazing love-making that came with it. Nanami was a great lover. It never just felt like sex in a transactional manner. It always showed how much of a sensitive soul he is, how much he cared for you. But it's not exactly in the way you wanted it.
"I like you, and I enjoy your company, but being me, this is all I can offer at the moment."
Those were his words, and though it's not explicitly written in the contract, you knew it was over when you started perceiving him as the center of your universe. That was no good, and maybe he knew, considering how he had been "too preoccupied" when you said you wanted to talk. Suddenly, he didn't have time for you, but you wanted to tell him of your decision to end matters in person. He deserved that, at least. Nanami was just too good, and you didn't want him to do the guesswork.
That same night, you walked out of the luxury flat he rented for you, packing a bottle of wine, which you ended up drinking at your best friend's house.
You woke up the next day, still groggy from all the alcohol you drank, to the sound of your best friend speaking angrily to someone in hushed tones. She was telling someone off and threatening them about answering if something ends badly, but then you hear your name.
"Y/N's a really sensitive person underneath regardless of what she says," she tells whoever she is talking to. You don't hear the response to her statement, but there was a long pause, and then you hear the front door open and close with her declaration to give this person their space.
It wasn't long before the guest room door opened, and you found yourself face-to-face with Nanami. You motioned to get up, but he shook his head and sat beside you on the bed.
"Why did you leave?" he asked, straight to the point as always. You didn't expect anything less, but you couldn't look him in the eye as you said, "I can't do this anymore." 
Much to his surprise, you started crying the moment you spoke. It was so atypical of you to show him any kind of weakness, always so independent in your actions and words that he felt useless at times, so he found the need to reach out and hold you.
You flinched. "Please don't."
Nanami sighed, running his fingers through his usually perfect hair. For the first time, you notice how it's not fixed the way it should be and how he has dark rings under his eyes, his cheeks a bit sunken. He looked at you, expressions unfathomable, but you saw how he clenched and unclenched his fists.
"Why not?"
His question angered you, that much he could tell, and it was obvious how you were trying your very best to calm down. You sat up and he felt the need to brace himself for whatever you will say.
"I'm ending this...this..."
"Arrangement," he supplied for you, to which you nodded, the sting of that word evident on your face. "Yes, that."
He nodded in understanding, but he stared you down with a pensive look on his handsome face, and you wanted just to run before you fell even harder. "May I at least know why?"
You bit your lower lip, looking elsewhere but him as your eyes filled with fresh tears. You didn't know how on earth you were going to explain it to him in detail, but as he gave it to you straight and simple, you thought it best to do the same. It would be self-explanatory anyway.
Wringing your fingers, you all but whispered, "Kento, I'm in love with you." When he didn't speak, you started rambling on about how you knew things wouldn't change if you said it and that he's got more important things to deal with over your "childish feelings" but that you can't help it.
"Say that again," he told you.
"What?" You didn't realize he had moved closer, his face merely inches from yours and his other arm caging you on your spot.
"The first thing you said. Say it again." He sounded commanding as he was used to, but then he let his forehead rest on your shoulder, feeling defeated. "Please?" he said, sounding small, unsure.
You wiped the tears off your face, sniffling. You've resigned yourself to the bad outcomes of your actions. "I'm in love with you."
"If that's the case, wouldn't you want to be with me?"
"Because you said you could only offer me this arrangement."
At that, he looked up at you, cupping your face with his hands and staring you straight in the eyes, eyes you couldn't lie to. You were somewhat surprised that he didn't have a single clue as to what had been ailing you as perceptive as he was. Then again, maybe you were just too good at hiding it until you weren't, everything hidden behind the smokescreen of your physical intimacy and the pretty smiles you would offer his way.
"Be honest with me. Did it ever feel like it's just that?" he asked cautiously, groping for words.
This time, you couldn't hold back and began tearing up again, your anger finally rearing itself on the surface. "That's exactly the problem!" You pried his hands off of you and stood up. "I can't figure you out, and I don't want to be confused anymore. We had an agreement, I know that, and I'm sorry, but it hurts too much knowing you can give me anything I ask for but not what I want the most."
He also stood up, invading your space and pulling you towards him. He wasn't about to just lose you, not without a fight. Nanami made you look at him, his arm around your waist tight as he commanded your attention but still gentle and giving you your leeway to run if you wanted. You, on the other hand, didn't need much restraining nor convincing as you found yourself looking into his eyes and wanting nothing but to be close and be able to hold him, own him and all that he is, love him, and love him hard, love him over and over again, surrender your heart and let him have you even if you knew he could never give it back.
But all your notions were dispelled with a few choice words. "You never asked."
"I – what?"
"The thing you want the most that you claimed I can't give you. You never asked for it."
Ah. You chuckled without humor. Of course, it's on you for not asking. "Because I can't! That's not how it works. It's not my place to ask. I've no place of that nature in your life."
"Really now, Y/N?" Nanami looked stung, annoyed even, when typically, he wouldn't even show you a disapproving look at your worst behavior around him.
"It's okay. This is on me." You stepped back from him, resigning yourself to the idea of not seeing him again and saying goodbye. "And I know you're busy, so don't worry about me. I just really wanted to tell you personally, at least. I'll be fine."
"I won't be..."
"Stop it! You said so yourself –"
"I said 'at the moment' back then if I remember it correctly?"
You shrugged. "Kento, you don't have to hyper-analyze what you said back then. Don't stress –"
At that, his expressions changed, and he appeared manic, so different from his calm and composed demeanor. "This is stressing me out."
"I'm sorry."
"I love you."
You shook your head. Pity was the last thing you needed, and hearing those words in such a context, even less so. "No, you don't."
"Yes, I do. You can't just assume things like that. And though I detest confrontations like this, I'm prepared to be in conflict with you for it if it means you stay with me."
You smiled ruefully at him, coming closer to hug him, holding onto whatever you could while you still had time, taking in the way he smelled, the way his hair felt against your palms. "You're really too nice. Don't say things like that even if you feel bad for me. You don't have to."
Nanami sighed again, looking absolutely tired, but had it in him to smile despite your words. "Y/N, I just got the shovel talk with your best friend after I told her I love you – rather graphic, too – and you're telling me you don't have a place in my life? I would not even be here if you didn't matter to me. You, of all people, should know that I don't waste my time on things I don't find worthwhile, but I am here, am I not?"
You felt your heart thundering in your chest as you minced his words, unable to process everything at the moment, but you found yourself overwhelmed with joy that your feelings weren't one-sided. "You are."
"But you're right, so let's end this arrangement."
Swallowing hard, you nodded.
"Let's make this the real thing without agreements and roles. What do you say about that?" He tilted his head to have a closer look at you. 
Everything be damned, but you were taking your chances. "Okay," you whispered.
"I love you. I'm in love with you, too. If it's my heart you want, you can have it. It's yours. All yours, my sweet."
You bit your lower lip, fighting a smile as you glanced at him from under your lashes, not trusting yourself to speak.
Nanami leaned his forehead against yours, closing his eyes as he held you closer. "I love you," he repeated.
"I know."
He chuckled. "Now you know. But that's not what I want to hear, Y/N. I said, I love you."
Instead of a response, you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, pulling him close as you stood on your toes to claim his lips with yours, your toes curling as he reciprocated in kind. This one felt different, not like some sort of transaction or a thank you for the things he provides for you. It felt like the real thing...like love.
"Then I love you, too."
TOJI
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"She's an associate, Y/N. Stop being such a brat," Toji tells you the moment he arrived at the penthouse where he was housing you a good hour after you stormed out of the party he was hosting. You looked over your shoulder to find his tall, broad form leaning against the doorpost, arms crossed and...smirking.
"Or are you doing this on purpose 'cause you want daddy to punish you, hmm?"
You scoffed as you angrily wiped your tears, entering the walk-in wardrobe and slamming the door shut. You just wanted to be away from him, be able to think without him influencing your thoughts. If Fushiguro Toji was a drug, he'd most certainly be heroin – absolutely addictive with slim chances to none in terms of recovery, but you still wanted more, more, and some more. And you fell right into that trap, very much aware of it all.
You were a budding freelance journalist who got into a tangle with his organization after a wrong lead. He had been nice to you on the get-go, the understanding and very accommodating kumicho letting Miss Nosey off the hook. You kept running into him after that until one drunken evening at one of his clubs, where he had to rescue you from a guy who couldn't take no for an answer.
He drove you home, and instead of getting out of his car, the two of you got talking, and he started showing you pictures of his adorable son. And after fucking you senseless in that same car, he offered you an arrangement you thought you couldn't refuse at that time.
Slowly, you found yourself weaving into Toji's complicated life and seeing beyond just the ruthless gang leader who showered you with everything and anything he could give. The sky is the limit where Toji was concerned, and he was outrageous about the presents he would give you. But that always came with a catch. He took as much as he gave, probably more, and he was possessive of you. It wasn't healthy how he could do whatever the fuck he wanted while your rewards came with limitations attached to them.
Still, you stayed and got lost in the maze that was the workings of his mind and his personal life, which was just about his little boy. You instantly fell in love with Megumi and, in the process, with Toji himself. You know that now without a doubt, and it scared the living daylights out of you.
That realization came gradually. At first, you chalked it up to just a physical response, inducing chemicals in your head that gave you the illusion and delusion of emotional affection. What's love got to do with it, right? At first, it was little things like wanting to see him at the most random times of the day, missing him, and such. Then it escalated into incremental degrees of possessiveness, which you thought was fair given his inclination to call you his, be that in words while he's balls-deep in you or the way he would suddenly hold onto you with those large hands in the presence of others.
And quite frankly, you seemed to have picked up on that habit the wrong way, learning to reciprocate in the same way. It was messy business at best, but then again, it started just as messy.
The thought and reality of it hadn't felt as real as it did when you saw another woman clutching just as possessively at his arm. It seemed innocent, but seeing those blood-red nails brushing on his muscled arms as if their owner had any right to do it or had probably staked their claim made your blood boil, and your heart break. All the while, in your head, you were repetitively saying, "He's mine. I had him first."
You're in love with him, and that's a fact. Because why else would you be having such intense emotional outbursts over the fact that he was dangling another woman in his arms? It's a fact you didn't want to face anyway. He's supposed to be your sugar daddy, nothing else. It came with its perks, but you're human, and Toji is irresistible in more ways than one and never limited to just how he satisfies you physically. You loved him, his son and everything that he is included.
And you thought it had to stop. He didn't see you that way.
You emerged from the wardrobe, pulling a suitcase behind you, and suddenly, tension filled the air as Toji straightened to his full height, sapphire eyes shifting between you and the luggage. 
"What are you doing?" he asked. Gone was his playful mood from earlier, replaced by something darker. He wasn't expressive, almost always looking bored out of his wits, and his facial muscles only rearranging in minute details to convey change, but it was enough to tell you to be on guard.
You walked towards him, mustering all your courage as you said, "I think we should end this."
"Because you're jealous?" He arched a brow at you. "I already told you –"
You shook your head, reaching up to touch his cheek, smiling as you traced downward before running your thumb against the scar at the side of his lips. While it made him look like a hooligan, you always thought it was a part of his charm. "That's hardly the issue here. As cliché as it is, it's not you; it's me. Thank you for everything, Toji. Give my love to Megumi."
At that, he chuckled. "And you expect me to just sit back with that sorry excuse? What do you take me for?"
Your eyes flashed in anger at the way he was undermining the circumstances. "Toji, I'm serious. It may be a sorry excuse for you, but it's not the same for me."
He stepped closer, looming over you. "So, speak up. Do I look like I'm playing here, sweetheart?"
"I...I can't..."
"What now?" He smirked, but you saw hurt cross his features, making you hesitate. It was too late when you realized you were stuck between a hard place and Toji, literally and figuratively. Your back hit the wall, and a second after, he slammed a palm just beside your head, staring you down. "I'm just a lowlife so I don't even deserve any proper explanation, is that it?"
"What? No! That's the last thing on my mind!" you retorted.
"So what? You're done writing your little reveal-all piece on me, so you're cutting me loose?"
How dare he, you thought. You were faithful to your agreement with him, and not once did you ever think of betraying him like that. Again, you were overwhelmed by the intensity of how you felt for him. You shook your head, trying to hold it in when your feelings were close to slipping out of your lips from the tip of your tongue. You didn't like the way he was looking at you as if you murdered his son and only family, but why were you making him angrier?
"If that's what you want to think, then fine."
"So fucking tell me, woman!"
"You should know by now that your intimidation tactic doesn't work on me," you told him dryly.
"You really are my woman," he says proudly, almost love-struck, but you weren't about to buy it.
"Let me go."
"And if I don't?"
"You wouldn't like what I will do, Toji."
"Oh, is that so?" Toji wasn't a patient man, but he always took his time with you, and that trait of his was proven to you for the first time when, in the next moment, you found yourself upside down after he hauled you onto his shoulder and easily carried you to the bed.
Before you knew it, you were on the mattress, but upon realizing what he was about to do, you started beating him on the chest with your fists, tears spilling out of your eyes. It was futile, you knew that, but you still wanted to get away from him. He easily pinned your hands down, silencing your protests with his lips as he took possession of yours. And just like that, you were docile as a kitten under his mercy and the heat of his touch.
"Do you still wanna leave me?" You just glared at him, your lack of response making him grit his teeth and tear the dress you were wearing off of you.
"Toji, what the – mmph!"
Again, he swallowed your words, his hands roaming over your now naked body. He pulled back only to say, "I'm giving you a chance to talk now, darling. Don't waste it." He then started kissing your neck, going lower and lower, the sounds he was making distracting you. "I'm listening, Y/N. And don't give me another bullshit excuse."
Your misery mingled with the carnal pleasure he was pulling out of you, coming in rivulets of tears as you half-sobbed, half-moaned at the way he was touching everything his hands could reach while he ground his crotch against yours.
"Toji, please stop," you pleaded, and he did, flashing you a pained look. For the first time, it seems that he was showing you the real person behind all the facade, the version of Fushiguro Toji exclusively reserved for Megumi.
He sat on his haunches, looking down at your vulnerable form as you covered your face with your arms and continued to sob. "I-I'm sorry..."
"No. I'm sorry," you answered between deep draws of breath. You weren't crying because of what he was doing. It was more for the fact that you were hurting him as much as your arrangement was hurting you. "But what the hell can I do?"
He hovered over you, prying your hands away from your face as gently as he could and peppering your face with kisses. "What is it, darling? Come on, tell me."
"I broke our agreement..." You looked away from him.
He eyed you quizzically. "And how did you do that?"
"By falling in love with you." You finally met his gaze. "I know you said our liaisons will not go beyond just what we really are to each other, but I couldn't help it. I care for you and Megumi, so much so that I want to be a genuine part of your lives. And it's not my place to ask, so I'm sorry."
To your surprise, he laughed, like really laughed, and you haven't felt so embarrassed in your life after pouring your heart out to him. You wanted the whole place to crumble into a pit and take you with it. 
When he was calm enough, he said, "Fucking finally!"
"What?"
He sighed, leaning down to kiss you on the cheek. "Do you know how long I've waited for you to say that to me?"
You paled but at the same time, you felt your face getting hot, realizing what he meant. "You knew?"
"From the moment it happened, yes. You think you can just walk out on me like that?" He shook his head. "Don't act like you don't know me at all."
"Y-you –" You didn't know what to say, getting up halfway only to be met with a scorching kiss that left you breathless.
Toji undid his pants, letting his cock spring free, and then lifted you onto his lap, holding you close. "I knew you were made for me the moment Megumi's eyes lit up the first time he asked if you were gonna be his new mommy."
"He did?" you asked in muffled tones against the crook of his neck.
"So what do you say? 'Cause I was dying to say yes." He kissed your temple, and underneath, you could feel him preparing to align himself with you.
You pulled away, holding his head between your hands as you looked at him in disbelief. "You were?"
He rolled his eyes. He really wasn't good at this. "Yes, darling. Now, are you still gonna leave me? Us?"
You pouted. "You're not just using Megumi to make me stay, right?" You gasped when he nudged your entrance, knowing he's got you in the bag. "I won't even let you near my son if I didn't want you as much as I do. But I got the best wingman, no?"
You just stared at him in disbelief but he prompted you by thrusting upward and breaking you away from your reverie, a high-pitched moan ripping out of your throat.
"Come on, Y/N. Decide so I can love you as much as you want me to." He grinned deviously at you. "Not that I plan to do otherwise if you decide to go."
"And if I go anyway?"
He smirked. "I don't know, love. I'm yakuza after all."
"Is that a threat?!" You smacked him on the chest, earning you a chuckle and a kiss to your forehead. "Yes. Can I love you now?" he asked and you swore he looked just like Megumi when he would beg you for goodies. So, how can you say no to that?
~*~
GOJO
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"Where have you been?"
The silence you expected to arrive to at the penthouse was broken the moment you walked by the vast living room. You almost dropped the red heels you held when you heard that familiar voice echo through the room, quiet yet deadly.
You visibly froze before turning around to see the owner of the voice. He looked upset, those usually bright orbs of aquamarine having turned into cold, hard gems as they regarded you. The darkness of the room that surrounded him like a miasma didn't help in quelling the tension in the room. If there was one thing Gojo Satoru hated, it's when he is disobeyed, and you flouting his orders and going out to party wasn't an exception. Sure, he doted on you and always showered you with gifts and affection, but being part of his world meant you needed to follow strict rules in exchange for the lavish life he provided for you.
You knew you should not have gone anywhere apart from your university and the place you called home. You knew you should not have given his men trouble by thinking you were at home after you snuck out, but you thought, why not? Gojo wasn't supposed to be back until the following day anyway, "Negotiations," he called them. You didn't want to feel alone in such an empty space, which was becoming more frequent as of late. You understood where he was coming from, but at the same time, you refused to and you wanted to act out.
Choosing to aggravate his foul mood further, you shrugged and attempted to walk past without saying anything, but you effectively stopped when he said, "Stop right there. We're not done talking."
Veering to look at him with the coldest expression you could muster, you retorted, "I went out with my friends. What's the big deal?"
He stood up from his seat, evidently pissed off at your attitude. "I thought I told you. It's dangerous, Y/N. I'm just trying to protect you. What if something happened to you?"
"They're your enemies, Satoru, not mine."
"It doesn't change the fact that they will hurt you if they can!" He had such a menacing look on his face when he was angry which you thought never belonged with those easy smiles and generally perfect visage of his. Someone so beautiful being shrouded in darkness was a violation to nature, and Gojo was just so.
"Well then, maybe I shouldn't have gotten together with you!" you shouted back, throwing your expensive shoes on the floor, imagining it was an extension of him you wished to hurt. "I could be in danger; I understand that. I'm not stupid, but I never cared for any of that as long as I have you, but you're never there! Why should I stay put when you tell me to?"
Gojo was evidently taken aback at your outburst, not believing that this was the welcome he gets after being away. At the same time, he felt guilty and deserving of your harsh treatment of him, feeling his heart sinking at your words. "You'll be safer that way," was all he could say.
You smirked at him, shaking your head. "And lonely. You forgot lonely." You shrugged, walking away from him. "I'm tired."
Having ended up in the bathroom where you found solace from Gojo, you leaned your arms and propped your chin on the rim of the huge tub, staring at the city lights through the glass walls. It seemed like a good idea to get tangled up with an older male who wanted to take care of you at your darkest moments, having been fired from your job and thrown out of your apartment which made you resort to sleeping in your car. 
That's how you met in the first place, making the mistake of parking around the outskirts of the city, hugging a can of pepper spray in your sleep when Gojo and his men decided to make an exchange at the empty parking lot of the warehouse nearby. Safe to say, it went awry when men started to pull out guns.
He took you home after his right-hand man spotted you in the car when your phone lit up at the wrong time. At first, he was suspicious of you, thinking you were an asset for an enemy clan. You were probably traumatized or in utter shock when your first reaction to him after seeing him break someone's neck a few yards from your car was to tell him he was beautiful while also shivering at the thought of how easily those gloved hands could murder you.
Gojo had been straightforward from the get-go, never hiding his intentions the moment he thumbed at your chin, forcing you to behold his beauty in all its glory which was just a bonus with how gentle, kind and caring he was towards you. And you clung to the dark angel who offered you a comfortable life away from the dangers of the streets, even offering to pay for your studies when he found out just how well you did in them. It seemed you were embroiled in more danger than you anticipated, however.
To say that you didn't know what kind of life you have entangled yourself in would be a lie. You knew just what kind of person Gojo Satoru is, his pretty hands and his very name stained in blood. The tattoos that adorned his beautiful alabaster skin were a dead ringer of just what kind of clan he belonged to, and it didn't help that he was surrounded by ruffians like a lone rose in a sea of thorns all the time.
They called him The Prince, even his enemies, and what a fitting name, at least to you with whom he showed his better side and true self underneath the emotionally constipated yakuza overlord that he is. But that was the very thing that broke your heart.
You had an agreement. Blatantly put, you are his pet, and he is your owner who poured money on trinkets he thought would make you happy in exchange for favors. That's it. You give him your body, and you get to have him for all those moments he is available. You wouldn't deny that it was an economically good proposition and beggars probably can never be choosers as was the case for you, but you never anticipated just what a lonely existence it would be on top of it being dangerous when you were deemed his weakness.
What a laugh. You weren't his weakness, not even remotely close. It was all for naught when your life is being put in line because of stupid assumptions his enemies resorted to. You will die if you don't toe the line according to Gojo's standards, and for what? They'd probably think they hurt him, but really, they're just giving him an excuse to go on a rampage, which will be for reasons vastly different from their thoughts.
But more than anything, the most significant matter at stake was your heart, if not your sanity. Letting that information out during your outburst was a faux pas on your part, and you emotionally prepared yourself to leave the kind of life Gojo granted you in the first place. You've fallen for him, and that wasn't a good thing when he made it clear just what purpose you served for him.
The sound of water droplets from the faucet was suddenly interrupted by the glass doors sliding open to accommodate Gojo, who had already changed into a fluffy, white robe, shedding it off as he approached you. You didn't acknowledge his presence and merely watched his reflection through the wall. That didn't deter him from coming into the bathtub behind you and pulling you close.
"Would you please look at me, sweetheart?" he asked, his melodious voice making every fiber of your being tense. He wrapped an arm around you, his breath ghosting over your nape. "Did I make you that upset while I was away? I'm sorry, my pet."
His apology always came with a catch. You didn't have to enumerate them when you're only supposed to understand.
"Still mad at me? What does my Y/N want, hmm?" Gojo started placing kisses on your shoulder, moving upwards to your neck, but before it could cloud your judgment, you moved forward, gently taking his arm off of you, much to his dissatisfaction. He sighed, letting you have your space. "What's the problem?"
You hugged your knees to yourself, feeling the coldness of the air when you lost contact with him. "It's not something you could fix by kissing me." As if on cue, you absently scooped some soapy water and rubbed it over the areas he touched.
Being the brat used to having his way, Gojo scoffed. "Are you literally washing away my kisses?" It's just like him to ask about the trivial things when he feels like it. He reached out to touch you when you didn't answer but stopped when you flinched. He immediately turned serious, the air around you becoming charged with tension. "Y/N, will you please tell me what's bothering you?"
"You are."
"What?"
You leaned your forehead on your knees, feeling vulnerable to the whole world as you calmed your inner turmoil and tried to put in words how you felt, how things would end by your hand before he casts you away.
"I breached our contract."
Silence followed your words, and those mere seconds of pause felt like an eternity as you feared the worst. But then he said, "Will you elaborate on that?"
You lifted your head, throwing it back as you closed your eyes, taking a deep breath. "I know I don't have any right to be demanding things from you, least of all hold it against you when I miss you in your absence."
"You miss me?"
"But I have no control over how I started feeling the way I do, becoming more pronounced whenever you're not with me. We had an agreement, I know that, but because I broke it, I guess I'll have to take it upon myself to end this."
"End what?" He straightened up, his blue eyes filling with dread. "What – what are you talking about?" He sounded angry this time but like that of an animal cornered as opposed to being the hunter.
You looked at him from over your shoulder. "I'm leaving you, Satoru."
A mix of emotions started to take shape with every nuance in his expression, as if he could not make up his mind about how he would feel about what you just said. For a split second, he looked at you as if you had obliterated his whole being, but then he calmed down, massaging the point between his blue eyes.
"I'm sorry, but I can't do this anymore. I know my role, and I should just walk away before it gets out of hand."
"What role?"
You laughed without humor. "I am, in essence, just your sugar baby, Satoru. You give me things that you see fit. I don't get to demand anything from you."
"Is that how you see yourself?" His tone was scathing but calming at the same time. It makes things easier for you.
"Let's not pretend anymore, okay?"
"So what exactly are you telling me?"
"Do I have to spell everything out for you?" you asked in exasperation, your tears finally dripping from your eyes.
He let up on the harsh expression on his face upon seeing them. "Y/N, baby, don't cry. Please. I just need you to explain. I deserve at least that when you're telling me you want to –"
"I love you, Satoru." You smiled at him through your tears, the most sincere one you gave his way since you realized how you felt.
"You do?"
"I don't regret it regardless of the consequences."
"Y/N, I'm confused."
You didn't address that. Gojo was probably one of the most brilliant people you knew, but it was always easy to feign ignorance, regardless of that. Without addressing it, you motioned to get out of the tub, wondering where you'll start with packing, but then almost everything you owned was technically Gojo's. It would be easy, you thought.
"Anyway, you know now. I should go." 
Gojo wasn't having any of it. He stopped you, pulling you towards him. "You just told me you love me, and you're leaving me behind?"
You blinked. "Am I...not supposed to?"
Gojo smirked at you. "What makes you think you can just walk away now that I know?"
You sank into the water, creating splashes in your wake. You didn't know how to feel about that. It was a choice between succumbing to that false sense of security you learned to accept during the three years you've been with him or relief over the possibility that he reciprocated your feelings. However, before you could even decide, Gojo chose to addle your brain by leaning in and taking possession of your lips, giving you no choice but to melt and submit to his touches.
It was passionate as usual, setting every ounce of your existence aflame while his hands roamed around every inch of your skin, marking his territory. You appreciated that about him, not holding back and giving you what you wanted without inhibitions, but you've always accepted that what you wanted the most, he could never ever give. You've resigned yourself to that fact, and yet, whenever he touches you, you are convinced otherwise because his actions always contrast his words. You hated how hope started to grow in your chest, and although he quickly turned you on, you fought against it and pulled away from him.
"N-no. Stop."
"Why?" He looked at you, kiss-drunk and dazed.
"I can't do this anymore. I'm not going to force you to be beholden to me." You inched backward. "Just let me go."
Gojo clucked his tongue, sighing profoundly and covering his face with his hands in utter frustration. "What have I done?"
You shook your head. "It's not your fault."
"No..."
It was your turn to reach out to him, forcing his hands off of his face as you kneeled before him. "Satoru, you can hardly be blamed for how I feel. It's okay. I am not mad at you."
"Yeah, but I sure as hell am mad at myself." He let you take his hands but immediately reversed roles and held your hand in his. "Oh, Y/N. My sweet, sweet Y/N." His broad shoulders drooped down. "It's my fault why you're doing this right now for making you feel like you had to toe boundaries with me where your emotions are concerned."
"We signed a contract..."
He lifted his hand to tenderly graze your cheek, his icy blue eyes showing that misplaced warmth you've become familiar with even when he made someone beg for mercy. Gojo Satoru always shone brilliantly amid the darkness that surrounded him. You gravitated towards that light no matter how twisted it was.
"This is my doing."
"No –"
"But it's true." He smiled sadly at you. "I know what I am, and I am so deep in it that nothing could right the wrongs I've done. That contract was supposed to be a shield for you against me, Y/N, not the other way around."
"What?" Now you're confused.
"The moment you called me beautiful despite seeing what you did all those years ago, I knew I had to have you with me to have someone to see past the fear I instill in anyone who crosses paths with me." He shrugged. "I didn't want you to feel like you had to feel for me, nor did I want you to feel responsible for anything that involves me. I'm not so cruel that I'll subject you to that, but it's too late, no? I put you in danger, and you don't owe it to me that I am protecting you or giving you everything I thought you would want while keeping a safe distance. Turns out I've hurt you more."
You were taken aback, to say the least.
"But I do care for you more than I can admit or fathom." He beamed disarmingly as he tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear. "I am in too deep, and maybe I should just accept that I do love you."
"Satoru..." 
"I love you, Y/N. Words are cheap, and it may be too late, but I really do." He placed his head on your shoulder as he embraced you, holding you tight, skin on skin. "But if you want to leave, I will let you. I will not be selfish and ask you to stay with me. I want you to do whatever you think is best for you without thinking of me."
Laughter wanted to escape from your throat, not because of mirth but from relief. But with that came the realization that you weren't free anymore, not where Gojo was concerned. He's setting you free, but the lock to your prison wasn't his to hold in the first place. You held yourself captive to him in the first place, locked yourself in, and threw the key away. Knowing he reciprocated your affection towards him just sealed you in a reinforced vault, dunked into the deepest trenches of the ocean that was his warmth. How the hell were you supposed to leave him now when you mistakenly thought you were grasping at straws when he was shackled to you all along?
Shrugging, you wrapped your arms around him, shaking your head at your foolishness. At this point, saying you didn't know what you were getting yourself into is a big, fat lie, and it was probably one you will never make the mistake of doing anyway, unable to deny yourself of what you wanted...what you needed.
"You really are a piece of work," you muttered.
"What did I do?" he whined like a child. In such moments, you almost always forget he was shy of a year to a decade older than you.
You chuckled, returning his words to him. "What makes you think you can just walk away now that I know?" 
Gojo's head snapped up, now wearing a cheeky grin as he regarded you, his hands climbing up the back of your thighs before cupping your bare ass. "Is that so? I'm letting you do what you want, Y/N."
You scoffed. He's back to his usual self, toying with you, but you see the subtle difference in how he deals with you. "I am doing what I want right now."
"Going once..."
You relaxed in his hold.
"Twice?"
"No."
His expression turned dark, eyes hazy with lust as he drew you closer, making you sit directly on his half-hard cock. "You can't complain after this, you are aware, my love?"
Ah, the sound of that endearment rolling out of his tongue was music to your ears. Winding your arms around his neck, you leaned forward and ground your hips against his, relishing the soft groan that escaped his lips at the pressure. "Where do I sign?"
He pointed at his lips. "It's a lifetime agreement, mind you."
You wasted no time sealing your new pact, crashing your lips against his, a kiss that was sloppy at best, excitement and a mix of love and lust heavy on your tongue as you sought his, reveling in the taste of him which felt like the first time. Gojo was almost always dominant, but he didn't seem to mind that you were taking the lead this time, asserting your claim over him, unable to resist now that you've both gotten what you wanted from each other.
"Lucky for you, I don't want out."
~*~
I had fun with these. Wonder if I should do Geto, Sukuna and Choso as well... A little treat to quell the time I'm taking off of writing my ongoing Gojo smau cause I lost all my fucking files. Yay, me!
© ORIGINAL WORK BY nanaminokanojo. CHARACTERS ARE INSPIRED BY GEGE AKUTAMI'S JUJUTSU KAISEN. [20231019]
PHOTO/IMAGE/GIF/FANART/ANY MEDIA CREDITS TO THE RESPECTIVE OWNERS.
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fiapartridge · 3 months
Text
you don't go to parties | j. hughes 🎆🪩✨
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“i don’t know who im looking for ‘cause you don’t go to parties anymore…” you don’t go to parties, 5 seconds of summer
pairing: jack hughes x fem!reader
summary: after ending your relationship with jack, he finally plucks up the courage to attend a party—and all he can think about is you.
warning(s): cursing, smut (like they have sex but it’s more heated & slow than trying to be super smutty), angst + fluff?? (in some aspects LOL), also noticing now that there was no protection so beware lol
author’s note: i don’t write smut so this is probably the closest ill ever get to writing it LOL but it’s much more for the plot rather than it trying to be super 18+, r-rated type smut yk
wc: 4.01k
not proofread
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Glitter hung in the air, every room bathed in a purple glow as Jack hung by the wall, nursing a beer he had managed to snag from the cooler outside. The air was thick with the scent of perfumes and sweat, and the music thumped in his chest, yet he felt—detached, almost alone in the scheme of things. 
The party was a blur of lights and sounds, of hookups and dancing. None of it held any interest for him, but his friends had practically begged him to come. They nagged him the entire summer to leave the lakehouse, to have a drink at the bar downtown, or even to just go on a drive with them, but Jack always came up with an excuse. “Can’t. Training for next season,” or “Gotta raincheck. Something came up.”
They knew what it was. It was obvious. He was missing you. You plagued his mind every second of every minute of every day. Jack knew he had messed up. The moments leading up to the collapse of your relationship replayed in his mind like a broken record—the arguments, the tears, the things he said that he couldn’t take back. The memories of you haunted him. He could feel you throughout the whole house.
You met Jack when you were 17. He hosted a draft party at the lake house the second he got back home to Michigan. Jack, being the cocky teenager he was at the time, made it an open-invite party. Sure, it wasn’t smart on his part but he was a clueless teen. He didn’t know better, but he thanks himself everyday knowing that that one decision led him to meeting you.
Your brother—one of Jack’s school friends—had been invited and asked if you wanted to come. You were hesitant at first. You had seen Jack around school, laughing loudly with his friends or pressing a girl up against the lockers, locking themselves together with heated kisses. You had always found him obnoxious, masking his stupidity with insensitive jokes and being portrayed as a “dumb jock.” But ever the hypocrite you were, because there you were, at that obnoxious, insensitive guy’s draft party. Go you.
Entering the house, you noticed the high ceilings and swarm of strangers that knew Jack better than you; who were probably wondering why you were even there, or who you even were. To your left, a group of friends talked animatedly on a set of plush couches, their drinks spilling out of their cups with every swing of their arms, and their makeup perfectly done on their face like they had hired professionals for this specific event. You felt out of place and, to your luck, your brother had abandoned you the second you stepped through that door.
Who knew you could be surrounded by hundreds of people, yet still feel so alone?
Weaving through the crowded house, you made your way to the backyard, which was just as packed as inside the house, except there was a slight breeze and it didn’t smell as terrible. String lights criss-crossed above the partygoers, creating a canopy of twinkling stars. A fire pit crackled in one corner, Adirondack chairs lining the perimeter as guests chatted all around you. The pool was lit within, its water glowing an intoxicatingly vivid blue. You stood there, watching the stillness of the water as everyone filled around you. The music thumped in your chest, in your ears, in your bloodstream, but you watched the water, and for a moment, you felt okay.
“I always wanna jump in at parties,” a deep voice said beside you. 
You hesitated before speaking. “Why don’t you? It’s your party, isn’t it?” you asked, face-to-face with the man of the hour. His chestnut hair was cut short, truly showing how young he is. You wondered how he could do this: have eyes on him at all times, have so many expectations weighing on his conscience, being judged constantly. It felt—suffocating, to say the least.
“Do you know how many hockey legends are here?” he laughed, as if the building was swarmed with secret spies. 
“And yet you’re standing here. Why’s that?” you asked, looking up at the boy.
And for the first time in your life, Jack Hughes looked at you. And it wasn’t in the gross, disgusted way he looked at clumsy kids in the hallway, or the way he looked at pretty girls like they were his next meal. He looked at you in earnest, an emotion you didn’t even know he was capable of possessing.
“Do you think I don’t know you?” he eyed you, his brow raising as you broke his—hate to admit it—intimidating gaze. You watched the water before you, crossing your arms over your chest as you began to feel that unwelcome, fish-out-of-water feeling again. Moving closer to you, his voice fell almost to a whisper as you felt chills run down your spine due to the proximity. “I know you’re the obnoxious girl that thinks she knows every answer to every question, who already judged every single person at this party without ever learning their names, who doesn’t like me, yet still came. Why’s that?” he asked, repeating the same question you had asked just moments before.
You felt bare in front of him, confused as to how he knew any of that stuff about you. Surely he was too busy making out with girls and slinging a stick around to pay attention to you. So why had he just read you like a book without you having to say a single word?
You shrugged. “I wanted to see what you were about, I guess.”
“Yeah?” he smirked, his tongue poking his cheek as you dared yourself not to look up at him. “How’d I do?”
“Not sure yet.”
He bumped his shoulder with yours, butterflies bumbling around your stomach. “Not just a dumb jock, you know. That’s all Luke.”
You scoffed quietly, a small smile playing on your lips as you lessened up the need to try to fight it. You were smiling because of Jack Hughes, and to be honest, you didn’t really mind it. “He asked me the difference between a square and a rectangle once,” you joked. You had some classes with Luke, and while you two weren’t best friends, you still talked to each other once in a while.
Jack laughed, watching Luke in the corner of his eye try to talk to a girl that was way too old for him. “You’re laughing,” he smiled, noticing you cover your face and still your giggles. “See, I’m not that bad.”
You rolled your eyes before looking up at him. He watched the partygoers on the other side of the pool mingling, his jawline sharpened and his moles scattering much of the surface area of his face. You hadn’t noticed much about his appearance until then, until you finally got a good look at him, at his personality.
You two sat poolside for a while, your legs dipped in the water as you talked about anything and everything. Occasionally people would pull him away to chat, but he would always come back to you, telling you all about the boring conversations, how much he hated networking at a party that’s supposed to be fun, how he hated being treated and expected to be like an adult when he was far from it.
He didn’t notice he was talking to you for so long until the party thinned and it was just you and him in the backyard. Cups littered all around you, his mom picking them up as she not-so-subtly eavesdropped on your conversation. His brothers were inside the house, watching you two from the kitchen window, and Trevor and Cole speculated who you even were while trying not to pass out on the couch in the living room.
For the first time in a while, Jack felt, I don’t know, good about himself? Like he wasn’t praised for doing such little things, or told he’s some amazing person just because he’s good at passing a puck around. Like he was able to talk, and someone was there to listen. And for some reason, he actually kind of liked being criticized by you. It showed that you paid attention; that you were real. He hadn’t met someone real in a while.
He remembered the time you had dragged him to a New Year’s Eve party at your friend Avery's apartment a couple years later.
He was wearing “2024”-shaped sunglasses that matched yours, and a shiny, gold, plastic fedora that made you laugh every time you looked at him. His arms were wrapped around you from behind as you entered the house, his lips planting a kiss on the crown of your head as you two separated to hug the group of people that stood near the door.
You talked to your friends, catching up on everything you guys missed in each other’s lives while in college. Jack snuck up behind you, kissing your cheek before slipping off your coat and placing it on the couch by the entrance. 
The party was chill, much more relaxed than any of the parties Jack was invited to that night. You had urged him to go to them, knowing he would have much more fun with his friends, singing karaoke, getting wasted, and blasting music until they can’t hear anymore, but he shook his head, saying, “Parties are only fun if you’re there,” he shrugged. “Besides, how am I supposed to get my New Year’s kiss without you?”
The two of you mingled for a while, sharing nostalgic stories about high school and the time Jack had confused “pads with wings” with pads and chicken wings. The living room was filled with soft music and the hum of conversations. Jack kept close, his hand finding yours every now and then as if to ask if you were okay, if you needed food or a refill on your drink, if you were tired and wanted to go home—you were always his first priority. 
As the night progressed, the countdown to midnight drew closer. People began to gather in the living room, excitement buzzing in the air. Dick Clark’s New Year’s Rockin’ Eve played on the television as Jack pulled you to a spot where you could both see the screen. His arm wrapped around your waist, and you leaned into him, sniffing his cologne and laughing when he caught you.
Before you knew it, the countdown began and everyone started chanting along.
“Ten, nine, eight…”
You turned to Jack, his eyes locked on yours, a charismatic smile playing on his lips. Even after dating for five years, he still managed to make you nervous. You had hoped that that feeling would never go away. You want to be nervous because of Jack Hughes every single night—forever.
“Seven, six, five…”
The room seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you standing there.
“Four, three, two…”
Jack’s hand gently cupped your cheek, his palm warm and tender against your skin as you leaned into it. 
“One! Happy New Year!”
Cheers erupted around you, but all you could focus on was Jack as he leaned in—not too slow, not too fast—capturing your lips in an impossibly better-than-the-last, sweet, honey kiss. Your hands were in his hair, his were glued to your hips, and it was perfect. And for a moment, it was just you and him, sharing the first kiss of the new year.
When you finally pulled away, grins were etched to your faces. You still couldn’t believe he was yours.
“Happy New Year,” Jack whispered, his forehead resting against yours.
“Happy New Year,” you echoed.
Jack’s head rested against the wall behind him, his eyes closed, the music muffling around him as he thought back to the first time he said “I love you.”
It was your 18th birthday and you were celebrating it at the lake house. Knowing Alex, Trevor, and Cole, they planned this huge rager for you, inviting nearly half the neighborhood—and then some. 
After you said your hellos and knowing that the party could continue without you, you wandered upstairs, finding yourself in Jack’s room as you sat on his bed; his gray cover soft under your fingertips as you brushed over the fabric. You just needed a minute. 
Before you knew Jack—like, really knew Jack—you hadn’t had a birthday party in years. It wasn’t like your family didn’t care about you, or your friends didn’t want to celebrate you. Everyone in your life meant something to you, and you meant something to them too. You just couldn’t go to parties to save your life. You would walk in, see all the girls that are prettier than you, all the guys that act like you don’t exist, you’d get in your head, get overwhelmed, and leave quickly after. This just wasn’t for you.
And because Jack knew you, he knew you would be upstairs.
The door slowly creaked open, causing your head to rise, and a sigh to fall from your lips—just Jack. He smiled at you, shutting the door softly behind him as he sat beside you on the bed. You two sat surrounded by the soft glow of dim lamps, and the distant thumping of music that had seeped through the floorboards beneath your feet. 
His heart pounded in his chest. He knew you were beautiful, but sometimes he’s just so amazed by you, like you’re a new person every single day. Like there were new discoveries to be made, like he could never get bored with you. To Jack, you were everything. And who needs anything else in the world if he had everything sitting right beside him?
His hand rested on your thigh, his thumb running up and down the exposed skin. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.
You furrowed your brows. “For what?”
He shrugged. “For the party. I know you didn’t want it.”
“It’s not that I didn’t want it,” you murmured, sighing. “It’s just—I’m not Trevor, or Cole, or the number one overall draftee, Jack Hughes,” you smirked, bumping your shoulder with his. 
He shook his head. “No one’s telling you to be. We could’ve watched a movie,” he suggested, grinning. “Or gone on a shopping spree, or went on a drive. You don’t have to do anything for anyone else, especially on your birthday.”
“I like parties when you’re there—and no one else is,” you laughed as Jack scoffed, a smile pulling at his lips.
“I like those parties, too.” He went silent for a minute, just the hum of music playing from the outside filling the room as you focused on his thumb on your thigh. “I know I’ve been busy with hockey and everything lately, but I don’t want you to ever feel like you’re not important to me, or that I’m not thinking about you, because I am—all the time. You’re the most important person in my life.”
Your heart swelled at his words as you squeezed his hand. “I know, J,” you nodded. “I knew what I was getting into when you asked me out,” you smiled, meeting his gaze. 
He had been busy with his rookie season for the past year: being called a bust, getting injured over and over again, fans questioning if the Devils made the correct choice with him. He grew quiet during those months, more frustrated—with himself, with his game, with the people around him. You were worried for him, begging him to just talk to you about it. He shielded himself from everything and everyone. He almost lost you because of it, and he vowed to never do that shit ever again; to never get so close to losing himself that he ends up losing you.
He took a deep breath, his eyes never leaving yours. “You’re really fuckin’ cool, you know that?”
You rolled your eyes, that smile planted on your lips never fading away. “I know.”
Laughing, he smiled, a small, genuine smile that made your heart skip a beat. He pulled you closer, wrapping his arms around you in a warm embrace. “I mean it. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
You buried your face in Jack’s chest, breathing in the familiar scent of seasalt and ocean breeze. “Luckily for you, you’ll never have to find out.”
He kissed the top of your head, his chin resting on your hair as your cheek laid against his chest. “I love you,” he whispered, the words spilling out before he could stop them.
He felt you tense beneath him, pulling back slightly. His heart sped up. “What?”
He gulped before breathing in. “I love you,” he repeated, his voice steadier this time. “I think I’ve always been in love with you—you make it hard not to be.”
Your breath caught, a small smile encapsulating your blushy face. “I love you, too.”
Before you could say anything else, Jack closed the distance between the two of you, his lips capturing yours in a tender kiss. The music was gone, the thumping of your heartbeat was put to the back of your mind, every doubt and every worry you had for this relationship was dissipated immediately—nothing existed at this moment. It was jack, jack, jack, plus a hundred times more.
Jack’s hands found their way to your waist, pulling you closer, deepening the kiss. You responded naturally, your fingers threading through his hair, holding him close as if afraid he might disappear, like this moment was just a figment of your imagination. 
Gently, Jack guided you higher up the bed, his movements careful and deliberate. He laid you down, hovering over you, his eyes filled with adoration. “I love you so much,” he whispered against your lips before capturing them in another kiss.
Your hands roamed his back as you tugged at his shirt, eager to feel his skin against yours. Jack immediately understood, pulling away just long enough to discard his striped tee before returning to you, his kisses growing more urgent. 
As you pulled him closer, your own shirt joined his on the floor, your lacy red bra standing out against your skin. Jack’s breath hitched at the sight, his hands trembling as they traced the contours of your body, committing every inch and every curve to memory. He wanted to explore every dimple and every mole, every birthmark, and every faint touch that made you squirm. He wanted to know you, as thoroughly as possible.
“Holy shit,” he murmured breathlessly, praising you to the highest level. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”
Jack’s lips left a trail of kisses down your neck, his breath hot against your skin. He paused, his gaze meeting yours, a silent question in his eyes. He wouldn’t do anything unless you wanted to. You answered with a nod, your fingers tracing the lines of his jaw before pulling him back to you. 
“I love you, Jack,” you whispered against his lips. “I want this.”
Jack’s hands moved with increasing urgency, his touch sending shivers down your spine. Roaming lower, they explored the curve of your waist before slipping beneath the waistband of your pants. His fingers found their way to your core, gently exploring, teasing.
A soft moan escaped your lips, your body arching against his touch. “Jack,” you breathed.
He kissed you deeply, his fingers moving with deliberate, tender motions, drawing soft gasps and breathless moans. “I love you…so much,” he murmured against your lips.
Your breaths became ragged, his name becoming the only thing left in your vocabulary. The room grew warmer, more intoxicating. Jack felt you getting closer to your high, quickly removing his fingers before you could reach it as you whined out, breathless.
He paused, his forehead resting against yours, his breath hot and heavy. “Are you sure you want this?” he asked again.
You nodded, your eyes locked with his. “I’m sure, Jack. I want you.”
With a shuddering breath, he captured your lips again, the kiss deep and all-consuming. His hands found the clasp of your bra, unhooking it, and letting it fall away. He stared at you for a moment, taking in your bare body before his lips began to trail downwards, worshiping every inch of you.
Your hands found the waistband of his pants, your hands working sloppily as you fumbled with the button. Paying no mind, he helped you, discarding his pants and boxers in one swift motion. Jack’s body pressed against yours, the heat of his skin against yours almost too much to bear. His kisses were everywhere, trailing down your neck, across your collarbone, and finally to your breasts, where he lingered, drawing soft moans from your lips.
You arched against him, your body pleading for more, for everything. "Jack, please," you whispered, your voice barely more than a breath.
He met your eyes, his gaze soft and safe. "I love you," he said again, his voice full of emotion. "Let me show you how much."
With that, he kissed you deeply, his body aligning with yours. The moment he entered you, it was like everything else fell away, leaving only the two of you, connected in the most intimate way possible. The rhythm of your movements, the gasps and moans, all blended perfectly, like this was right where you were supposed to be—with Jack, here, and in love.
His thrusts were slow at first, measured, each one driving you closer to the edge. The feeling of him inside you, filling you completely, was overwhelming. You wrapped your legs around his waist, urging him to go deeper.
“I love you, I love you, I love you,” he repeated against your lips, over and over again. 
Jack’s thrust became more urgent, his breathing ragged, matching your own. His heavy grunts, as your fingers dug into his back pulling him closer, closer, impossibly closer, filled the warm room. 
As your climax built, your hands weaved through his hair, needing to feel him, needing to be as close as humanly possible. Each thrust hit harder and faster than the last, bringing you closer to the edge. 
“Jack,” you cried out, your body tensing as that unfamiliar feeling approached, the high almost too much to handle.
His face was buried in your neck, holding you tightly. “Y/N,” he groaned, pushing you through your high, his own release nearly there.
With a final thrust, the string you held onto so tightly, slipped from your fingers, a balloon inside you erupting at the feeling. You cried out his name once more, your body trembling with the force of your release. Jack followed, his own climax crashing over him. 
You clung to each other, your bodies trembling with aftershocks. Jack held you against his chest, his breath ragged, and his heart pounding against yours.
As you laid entwined, the world slowly came back into focus. The sounds of the party were distant now, a faint reminder of where you were. But at that moment, it didn’t matter. You didn’t care about what was going on downstairs, who was missing you, or who was asking for Jack. All that mattered right now was the two of you, and it felt perfect.
“Don’t know if I said it enough, but I love you,” Jack chuckled, his arm wrapped around your small frame.
You smiled, your fingers tracing lazy patterns on his skin. “I love you, too, J. Always.”
Always.
  Always.
    Always.
      Always.
         Always.
Opening his eyes, Jack watched the crowd around him, his gaze instinctively searching for you. He didn’t know why he was doing it. There was no point—not anymore, not when he fucked everything up. Not when he let you slip from his fingers and leave his life entirely.
His eyes settled on a girl in the corner of the room, a red solo cup in hand, her cheeks a flushed mess, and he wondered why he was even at that party. None of these girls could hold a candle to you, not even if they tried. 
Yet Jack watched the door, and willed for you to come, despite knowing you don’t go to parties anymore.
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eiightysixbaby · 1 year
Text
afterglow
part 2 to cruel summer
tell me that i’m all you want, even when i break your heart
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word count: 10.2k
pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader
summary: you navigate the aftermath of your confession to eddie, but forgetting him is harder than you thought. it’s up to him to make things right.
cw: 18+ ONLY - MINORS DNI. angst, use of y/n, eddie and reader being lovesick for each other, tooth rotting fluff, use of pet names, unprotected p in v, oral f receiving
author’s note: i am so, SO beyond excited to share this finally! thank y’all so much for the love on cruel summer, i hope you all enjoy part 2 just as much. this is inspired by afterglow by miss taylor swift, so go listen to that if you haven’t! okay smooches love u all hope u enjoy
part one
It had only been a few days since you confessed your love to Eddie and he left you without a word, but it felt like it had been years. Every minute crawling by, the hole in your heart seeming to grow rather than get any smaller. Your mind was ping-ponging back and forth between being furious with Eddie, and missing him and yearning for his touch. In all honesty, you mostly felt horrible for the way you yelled at him. Sure, he wasn’t being considerate of your feelings and he was being a bit of an asshole, but how was he supposed to know you loved him? You don’t even know if you knew you did until you were screaming it in his face. It’s not right what Eddie did, making you feel special and then turning around and flirting with other girls in front of you, but it’s not right for you to get mad at him for not being exclusive with you when the two of you were only supposed to be fuck buddies, and you weren’t supposed to have feelings for him. The guilt was eating away at you, and now that you’d gone and blindsided him with the confession of your feelings, you knew you couldn’t fix things. He clearly didn’t feel the same way, and he clearly didn’t want to rectify the situation at hand. But there were also moments where the guilt would subside and you were filled with pure rage, wanting to hurt him the way he’d hurt you. To say you were conflicted was an understatement.
In actuality, Eddie was doing no better than you were. He’d barely slept since the night he left your place, the bags under his eyes growing increasingly dark and his mood constantly agitated. You loved him. How could that be? Had he really been that fucking blind? Admittedly, Eddie’s never been great with the whole “feelings” thing. Screwing around with a different girl every week was fun for him because no deeper feelings were involved. It allowed him to get those brief dopamine rushes without the room to get attached to someone, just for them to end up leaving him when they really got to know him. But it was always different with you, from the moment the first line was blurred and you crossed into uncharted territory with each other, it was different. This had unnerved Eddie initially, the way everything felt softer with you, more intimate. He couldn’t let himself fall for you, and so he kept you at arm’s length - or tried to, anyways. He’d continue to flirt with other girls, to sleep with other girls in hopes that it would keep his mind off of you. He needed to keep himself in the routine of bouncing around so that his brain wasn’t hyper fixated on you. Your mutual agreement to have a little friends-with-benefits situation surely meant that you didn’t feel anything more for him, right? He couldn’t be the one that fell head over heels for you, just for you to leave him in the dust.
He should have fucking known you’d never do that to him. And now here he was, the asshole that hurt you probably beyond repair. All because he couldn’t work out his feelings, couldn’t face you in the event that you rejected him. He scoffs at himself, because look at how he handled things, leaving your apartment without so much as a word after you confessed your fucking love to him. Eddie groans, flopping face first into his pillows, letting out a long exasperated sigh. The moment you said you loved him he’d wanted to say it back without an ounce of hesitation, and honestly, that terrified him to his core. He’s never loved someone like that, it’s different than the love he holds for his friends or Wayne, or that old trailer park cat he’d befriended as a child . The love he felt for you was all-consuming in a new way, and it made him sick to his stomach with unease. He’s startled by a knock rattling the trailer, and he heaves himself off his bed with a huff. A frown is etched onto his face, his hair a wild mess as he opens the rickety door to the trailer. There on his front step is Nancy and Jonathan. Oh fuck.
“-And so, we just kind of want to know a little bit about what happened, on your end? She didn’t really give us a whole lot to go off of other than you flirting with the bartender…” Nancy winces as she says the last part, noticing the way Eddie visibly twitches at her words.
“I wasn’t flirting with the bartender,” Eddie says through gritted teeth, trying to keep his cool. “I didn’t want to start anything so I just… let her flirt with me. But I wasn’t interested! I just wanted one more drink,” he mumbles, his head throbbing with stress and lack of sleep.
Nancy and Jonathan had come over to your place the day after the incident with Eddie, gently trying to coax some information out of you. You’d revealed that the two of you had had a few drinks and some bar food, danced a little bit, and then hooked up in the bathroom - sparing them the gory details of course. Then you told them you caught him flirting with a couple women at the bar after you’d left him to talk to Chrissy briefly. You intentionally left out the part where you, you know, professed your undying love for him in the middle of the night standing in the doorway to your apartment. You didn’t need anyone knowing that you said those three big words when he didn’t even reciprocate them, the thought of telling your friends far too embarrassing.
Nancy, being Nancy, felt like there was something you weren’t telling her, or at least wanted to hear the story from Eddie’s perspective, hoping to get some more info so that she could better understand how to be there for you. She gave it a few days, knowing Eddie wouldn’t like to be cornered right after the incident, and that’s how her and Jonathan found themselves on the couch in his small living room currently.
Eddie was also in no way planning on telling them about how you’d told him you loved him, and he’d walked away like a big fucking idiot. Although his friends meant well, and wanted to help, he didn’t need any extra inquiring minds knowing about this. He needed to focus on figuring out how to fix things with you before anyone else found out that the big ‘L’ word was involved.
“Eddie, please just be honest with us-”
“I am being fucking honest!” Eddie snaps, catching his friends off guard. “I swear, on my fucking life, I was not flirting with those women at the bar. I just didn’t have the energy to start an argument or something,” the expression on Eddie’s face is growing desperate as he talks. “I should’ve just walked away, I know, but I didn’t. But I swear I was not flirting with them. For once, I wasn’t trying to be an asshole.”
Jonathan gives Nancy a look, and she nods in understanding.
“We believe you, Eddie. Thank you for explaining,” she says softly, trying to meet his eyes.
Eddie doesn’t look at her, can’t bring himself to when he’s hiding the worst part of this whole thing from her.
“Is there… anything else that you need to tell us?” Jonathan asks, careful so as not to sound accusatory.
“No. After she thought she caught me flirting, that must’ve been when she called you guys. There’s nothing else to say that she didn’t already tell you.” Eddie sighs, his voice defeated.
They could tell their presence was no longer wanted in Eddie’s home, and so they made their exit.
“Thanks for talking to us, Eddie. We’re here if you need anything,” Nancy says as she closes the door behind her.
Nancy originally intended on ripping Eddie a new one when he admitted to flirting with the bartender a few days ago, but now she knows that’s clearly not the truth. It was all a misunderstanding, at least this time around. But the hurt behind Eddie’s eyes, the pain in his voice has her thoughts jumbled. Something deeper has to be going on, she just doesn’t know what.
“So, do you think we should tell Y/N that him flirting with the ladies at the bar was a misunderstanding?” Jonathan asks, breaking the silence in the car.
“I feel like she deserves to know. Not that it’ll change anything necessarily, it doesn’t have to, but she deserves to be free of that pain at least,” Nancy nods as if assuring herself, before taking the car in the direction of your place.
The rapping at your door breaks you out of your daze as you sit on your sofa watching Friends reruns. You debate even answering it, before deciding that you can’t wallow all alone 24/7. You open your door to reveal Nancy and Jonathan, inviting them in but grimacing at the disastrous state of your living room. They don’t even pay any mind to it, Jonathan sitting on the arm of the couch as Nancy stands in front of you.
“So, we just talked to Eddie,” she says, her eyes searching yours.
You swallow, hard. Did he tell them what you said? Do they know you love him?
“Oh? W-what did he say?” you ask, your voice coming out more shaky than you would’ve liked.
“He told us that he was never flirting with the bartender and the other girl. Insisted on it, actually. He said he just wanted one more drink while he waited for you, and didn’t feel like starting anything by turning them down,” she says gently. “I’m not telling you this to make you feel bad for him or anything, I just figured you deserve to have that weight off of your shoulders.”
You stay silent for a moment, taking in what she’s saying. Clearly Eddie was convincing when he told her all of this, because Nancy wouldn’t believe just anything. He wasn’t flirting with them, it was all a misunderstanding. You flipped out on him for nothing.
“Thank you for telling me,” you say finally. “Did he say anything else?”
“No, his story was no different than yours otherwise.”
You nod, standing in silence because you can’t think of a damn thing to say.
“We’re gonna get going, but I just wanted to give you that update,” Nancy says, sensing the awkwardness.
You thank them again and hug them both before shutting the door behind them. You sink back into the soft cushions of your couch, staring blankly at the TV screen. The whole reason you’d even admitted to Eddie that you loved him was because you blew up on him, you couldn’t take it anymore, the image of the bartender all over him bringing you to your breaking point. It was all a misunderstanding, and you spilled your guts to him because of it. Things could still be the way they were if you’d never opened your damn mouth. Clearly, Eddie doesn’t love you back. He hasn’t reached out to you in three days. There’s no way you can go back on your words now, and you’re confident you ruined everything with the only guy you want. It should make you sick, still, the fact that he left you and couldn’t even give you a response. You should be furious with him, you should be cursing his name at the sky, but all you can do is feel guilty for putting him in jail for something he never did. You lay down, letting out a scream into one of your fluffy throw pillows. If you had any tears left to cry, they’d surely be flowing now, but instead you just lie there, zoning out completely. The only thing left to do was try and get over Eddie Munson.
Almost two whole weeks since he last saw you and Eddie had been wallowing pathetically the whole time, making little to no improvements since Nancy and Jonathan’s visit to his home. He shouldn’t have gotten so defensive with you when you accused him of flirting with the ladies at the bar - how could he blame you for thinking that? It’s not like he was particularly loyal to you or considerate of your feelings any other time. Basically, he was throwing himself a gigantic pity party, and Steve had decided he’d had enough of his friend’s antics.
He found out a little about what had happened through Robin, who found out through Nancy. Word travels fast in the friend group, needless to say. Steve came to Eddie’s trailer, for the third time that week, still finding him withering away in bed and looking like a kicked puppy. Steve, from what he understood of the situation, couldn’t figure out why Eddie was so distraught. You’d finally gotten tired of his sleeping around, and you’d kicked him to the curb. If anything, you deserved to be upset because you clearly had some deeper feelings for Eddie. Eddie on the other hand? He was the asshole, always, what right did he have to be upset now?
“Ed, seriously man, you’ve gotta cut this out. What good is it gonna do for you if you let yourself shrivel up and die in your bed?” Steve had tried to be gentle the first time he came to see Eddie, but by now he was frustrated.
Eddie just groans, grabbing his pillow and covering his face with it. Steve rolls his eyes, marching over to the bed and snatching the pillow from him, like a parent snatching an item from a child.
“You’ve gotta talk to me, dude. What is going on here? You acted like an ass to Y/N half the time, no offense, and now you’re upset? I just don’t buy it, man.”
Eddie scoffs and gets up, pushing past Steve and heading into the kitchen to get himself a cup of coffee. Steve follows directly behind him, hands on his hips as he corners Eddie in the kitchen. The older man glances over at his friend, acting completely disinterested as he fills his Garfield mug with the black liquid.
“You’re being impossible. I want to help you, and you won’t even talk to me. If you want to be depressed as shit forever, then fine! Be my guest,” Steve says, like it’s final, like he’s done trying.
Eddie knows him better than that. He pushes past Steve yet again, plopping himself down on the couch and taking an obnoxiously loud sip of his coffee. Steve’s fuming, watching in disbelief as Eddie goes along like he isn’t even there.
“You know, I can see why Y/N got sick of you.”
This gets a rise out of Eddie. He brings the mug away from his lips slowly, his breath catching in his throat.
“Yeah, I mean seriously, if you’re this stubborn all the time then it’s no wonder she got tired of you…” Steve goes on, knowing exactly what he’s doing.
Eddie grips his mug tightly, certain it’d shatter if he held it any harder. He grits his teeth, breathing hard out his nose.
“You just couldn’t keep it in your pants, had to flirt with that damn bartender…”
“I DIDNT. FLIRT. with the FUCKING. BARTENDER.” Eddie is seething now, about ready to jump across the room and grab Steve by the collar of his shirt. He’s at his breaking point now, letting everything spill out of him. “You wanna know what’s going on? You really have to know? She fucking loves me, man. She told me she loves me, okay? And - and - and… that fucking terrified me, okay? So I left her apartment. I didn’t say a word and I fucking left,” Eddie’s trembling now, the brunt of his anger giving way to sheer anguish.
Steve goes quiet, his eyes widening. He opens and closes his mouth, scrambling to find words.
“Eddie, you just left her?” Steve asks, really not trying to rub salt in the wound, but what the fuck.
“I really don’t need you to lecture me on how wrong that was-”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. That’s not what I’m trying to do. I just-” Steve pauses, looking at his disheveled friend where he sits on the couch. “Do you love her?”
Eddie is silent for a minute, his hands clasped together and brought up to his mouth, elbows resting on his knees.
“Yeah. Yeah, I think I do,” his voice is noticeably shaky, and for the first time since Steve got here, Eddie’s sad brown eyes meet his.
Steve comes to sit down next to Eddie, the couch cushions dipping with his weight.
“I think you need to tell her, man.”
“How? How do I even start? She thinks I ditched her at The Hideaway to flirt with other women, she probably thinks I fucking hate her considering I left without a word after she-”
Steve puts a hand on Eddie’s shoulder, calming him down from the way his body has started to shake. Eddie looks at him, eyes glassy and confused.
“This is Y/N we’re talking about. I don’t think she could ever hate you. You need to tell her how you feel, Eddie.”
Eddie knows he’s right. Deep down, he knows. But facing you and admitting his feelings is the scariest part. He doesn’t like to be vulnerable, doesn’t like the way it feels to put himself so fully out there, and he honestly envies you for being able to spit the words at him so easily. Eddie has to tell you, he just needs to figure out how.
You stood in front of the mirror in your bedroom, holding up different outfits as you debated which you liked the best. Robin and Nancy scrunched their noses at one particular dress you held up.
“Too many ruffles,” Nancy blurts.
“You’d look kind of like a babydoll…” Robin muses, tilting her head as she looks at the short blue garment.
You groan, throwing all the hangers of clothes onto your floor.
“Guys, I have to wear something tonight and we’ve gone through, like, half of my wardrobe!” you hold your hands out at your sides, your voice incredibly whiny as you plead with your friends.
“Okay, okay, let me take a look,” Nancy says, getting up and searching through your ransacked closet.
You were going on a date tonight. Nancy had eventually squeezed the confession out of you that you loved Eddie, but you still hadn’t informed her that you actually told him that and that he left. It had now been two weeks since you’d spoken to Eddie and she kept telling you you needed to actively try and forget him. Because, big surprise, sitting alone in your apartment all day eating pints of ice cream clearly wasn’t helping - much to your dismay. So she took it upon herself to help and set you up on a date with a friend of Jonathan’s.
According to his Instagram profile, he was cute, and he seemed like a nice guy based on everything Nancy told you. He went by Argyle, which, a little weird, but hey - you just told your fuck buddy you loved him and he walked out so… you’re not really in a position to judge anyone for anything.
“Ooh! What about this?” Nancy holds up a hanger with a tight black faux-leather skirt and another with a shimmery silver top.
“Nance - they’re going to get ice cream, not to a strip club,” Robin chides, laying on your bed and flipping through a magazine.
“Okay, fine, but I’m borrowing this skirt,” she says, meeting your eyes to get your approval.
You roll your eyes, scrutinizing one strand of hair that won’t do what you want it to do as Nancy continues looking through your clothes.
“Okay! I’ve got it. This is casual, but not so casual that it says you don���t care,” she eyes her selections as she waits for you and Robin to weigh in.
She’s holding a pair of light wash denim shorts, embroidered with little daisies, and a baby pink top with ruched sleeves.
Robin bites her lip excitedly, nodding eagerly at you.
“Not my taste, but totally, absolutely, one hundred perfect for you. Put it on, put it on!” she urges.
You laugh, obliging and changing into the clothes Nancy picked. She has a good eye, you had to admit. The outfit was perfect, cute and expressed that you’d put effort into your appearance, but not overdoing it. As you look at yourself in your mirror, you can’t help but picture Eddie’s face if he saw you in that outfit. His arm snaking around your waist to pull you close. Your fingers trail down to the hem of the shorts, toying with a loose string.
“Hey, earth to Y/N?” Robin waves her hand, snagging your attention. “You still with us? Argyle’s definitely gonna need you alive for the date tonight,” she says lightheartedly, giving you a lopsided smile.
Your lips had fallen into an involuntary frown, and of course the girls catch it immediately.
“Don’t think about him, hun,” Nancy places a hand on your arm, giving you a gentle squeeze. “Argyle’s a great guy, and you’re gonna have fun tonight!”
“Yeah, no you’re right. I’m sorry. I want to give him a chance, I’m excited,” you smile, trying your best to shove the curly brunette metal head out of your mind.
It’s not that you weren’t excited for the date, you really were. Maybe a change of scenery and a new person were exactly the things you needed. But you still felt horrible about setting everything on fire with Eddie, leaving you to sift through the ashes now that the damage was done. And you still love him. The thought wafts through your mind like a bad stench through your nose, and you shake your head as if to rid your brain of it. Screw Eddie, you try and tell yourself. Who needs him anyway?
Just as Nancy finishes applying a healthy amount of makeup to your face, there’s a knock at your door. Like an absolute gentleman, Argyle arrives right on time. You feel wings erupt in your stomach, birds taking flight as your nerves kick in.
Robin notices you go rigid in her gaze.
“You’re gonna be fine. You’re gonna have a great time, you got this, kid,” she beams at you, giving you an affirming nod.
You try your best to give a confident smile back, nodding once in confirmation that you do, in fact, have this. The girls shuffle you out of your room and towards the door, practically shoving you to go answer it. Your straighten yourself, taking one last deep breath before swinging the door open.
“Well, good evening, ladies,” Argyle says, flashing his shiny white teeth as he smiles at you and your friends who stand modestly behind you.
“You must be Y/N. I’m Argyle, it’s so nice to meet you,” he keeps the smile on his face, reaching a hand out to shake yours.
“It’s nice to finally meet you, too,” you smile back, taking his hand firmly as you shake it.
“Mind if I steal her away, girls?” he jokes, directing the question at Robin and Nancy.
“Nope! Not at allllllll,” Robin draws out the last syllable, giving you a flirtatious wave.
“She’s all yours! Have fun you two,” Nancy smiles.
They give you a thumbs up when you take one last glance over your shoulder, Argyle leading the way out the door. And so it begins.
Tonight is the night. Tonight is the night Eddie is going to fix shit with you, or at least give an honest attempt. The thought of going through with his plan made him want to genuinely hurl, but he swallowed the bile that rose to his throat and was determined to right this wrong. After letting the truth spill to Steve, the only thing consuming his thoughts has been telling you about how he feels. The entirety of the past night was spent tossing and turning in his bed, fleeting dreams of you rejecting him flashing through his subconscious. His plan, as it currently stands, is as follows: he’s going to swing by the flower shop to get you a beautiful bouquet, and then head over to the local ice cream place to get you your favorite milkshake. Then he plans to show up at your door with his offerings, and apologize profusely. Like, he’s talking begging-on-his-knees, praying to the gods above, apologize. He stomach lurches as he mentally walks through the plan again, getting himself looking presentable for the evening ahead. He knows very, very well that there’s a huge chance this doesn’t go well for him. He knows you might just go ahead and rip the damn milkshake out of his clammy palms and throw it right back in his face, or maybe even throw a punch or two - hell, he deserves it. He’s not asking for forgiveness, he’s not asking for you to welcome him back in with open arms. He just knows that he won’t be able to rest well until he’s told you the truth, he has to apologize and be honest with you, whether you accept him back in or not.
Eddie gives himself a once, twice, three times over in the mirror, although his current attire isn’t much different from his usual. He’s still in his ripped black jeans, his surprisingly white Reeboks, and all of his chains and rings. Instead, though, he’s traded his usual band tee or denim vest with a black button-down shirt. He takes a deep breath, trying desperately to calm his nerves. He’d already smoked, hoping the high would ease his worries, to no avail. He’s not used to being nervous like this, not used to second-guessing his appearance or feeling his palms grow sweaty. He’s used to women throwing themselves at him, he’s used to one-night stands with no big feelings attached, he’s used to being balls deep inside someone and then never speaking a word to them again. He loves you. The thought plays over and over in his mind. He grabs his phone and his wallet and his keys before heading out the door, shuffling into his car and heading out on his mission.
The drive to the ice cream place wasn’t nearly as awkward as you thought it’d be, finding a lot to talk about with Argyle. He’s friendly and outgoing, never forcing a conversation but also never leaving room for the silences to be awkward. You don’t feel like you have to act a certain way to impress him, he’s just happy to be with you. It’s refreshing, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t find your mind wandering elsewhere. It was already proving hard to keep Eddie out of your thoughts - Argyle would make a reference to something Eddie liked, the air freshener in Argyle’s car is the same one as in Eddie’s, so on and so forth. It’s like your brain was purposely torturing you, distracting you from having a good time. Eddie probably wasn’t thinking about you, so why did you have to be plagued with near constant thoughts of him?
“Hey, are you okay?” Argyle’s smooth voice breaks you out of your thoughts.
“Huh? Oh, yeah, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to zone out. I’m fine,” you give him a reassuring smile, and he looks at you for only a moment before seeming to accept your response.
“Well, anyway, I’ve never had the ice cream here but Jonathan said it’s the best. You’ll have to give me some recommendations,” he grins as he pulls his car into the parking lot, one hand on the wheel as the other taps on the crevice of the open window.
“Will do,” you smile. “Though I have to warn you, I always get the same damn thing,” you laugh, and he laughs along with you.
You both step out of the car, the sweet scent of waffle cones and vanilla milkshakes filling your nose. Argyle opens the door and a bell chimes, signaling your entrance as he holds the door for you. The air conditioning is on full blast, hitting your skin and making goosebumps prick up. You cross your arms instinctively, rubbing the skin for some warmth as you eye the menu, even though you never stray from your tried and true favorite. Argyle notices your slight shivering, immediately slipping his hoodie off and holding it out to you.
You start to decline politely before he waves you off.
“You’re only gonna get colder once you start eating your ice cream. I insist, take it,” you blush a little as you take the jacket, slipping it over your shoulders and leaving the zipper undone.
It’s big on you, Argyle having a height advantage, so you bunch up the sleeves. Instantly, your brain goes to a memory of you at an ice skating rink with Eddie and the rest of the group. You’d forgotten your jacket at home, and Eddie had offered you his within milliseconds of you starting to shiver. It was one of few times where Eddie made any sort of affection towards you known to others, rather than keeping it a raunchy secret, and you’d felt on top of the world parading around in his sweatshirt. Of course, that night had ended no differently than the others, Eddie fucking you into his mattress and taking you home afterwards, leaving you feeling empty.
You try to replace the thoughts of Eddie with thoughts of your current date, try to convince yourself that wearing Argyle’s hoodie feels just as good as wearing Eddie’s, but it doesn’t, and you can’t. You put as much focus as you can onto what Argyle’s saying, put on a happy face as you give him your flavor recommendations, but a man that’s not here is tugging at your heart strings all the while. You order at the counter, your usual birthday cake milkshake, letting Argyle decide a moment longer. You actually wince when he orders two scoops of butterscotch ice cream, the exact same thing Eddie would order the few times you’d come here with all of your friends. You feel like the world is playing a sick joke on you, refusing to let you let go of Eddie. You feel like you’re not even in your body when you grab a hold of the cold cup that your frozen dessert is in, only coming back to reality when Argyle asks where you want to sit.
You choose a booth by the window, the electric glow of the ‘Open’ sign flickering onto the table through the glass pane. Argyle takes a bite of his ice cream, and you give him your best effort in conversation.
“Well, what do you think?” you smile at him, forcing it a little too much maybe.
“I think I could drop dead right now this is so good,” he smiles right back, licking his spoon clean of another mouthful. “How’s yours?”
“Even better considering I didn’t have to pay for it,” you take a sip of your shake to punctuate your sentence. “Thank you, again.”
“Don’t have to thank me, I’m more than happy to pay for a girl as pretty as you,” he gives you another little grin, nothing but kindness behind his eyes.
You smile back, but you’re cursing inside your head. You have a sweet guy sitting in front of you, genuinely trying to get to know you and have a nice date, and you can’t stop thinking about someone else. There’s nothing wrong with Argyle, and you’re trying your very best to will yourself to fall in love with him or something when the door chime breaks you from your thoughts.
You look up at the door instinctively, and you almost choke on your ice cream at what you see. Eddie walks in through the door, looking gorgeous as ever, because of fucking course this would happen right now. You go rigid when he looks your direction and meets your eyes, and your face is instantly flushed with heat. You suddenly feel suffocated in Argyle’s hoodie, your stomach churning as you stare into those all-too-familiar brown eyes. You manage to tear your gaze away before he does, not wanting Argyle to get suspicious and try to discover what you’re staring at. You give yourself a mental kick, refusing to allow yourself to crumble in Eddie’s presence. Don’t let him see you sad, show him you’re fine without him. You reach across the table and brush your fingers on Argyle’s arm, laughing maybe a little too loud at something he says. You feel bad using him as revenge in this moment, but lucky for you, you don’t have to do it for very long. Eddie doesn’t order a thing, just turns on his heel and leaves.
Eddie feels like he can’t breathe when he gets back into his car, sitting in the parking lot with his heart threatening to shatter beneath his ribcage. You’re on a date. He was going to try and fix things, going to tell you he loves you, and you’re on a date. Of course he noticed the garment keeping you warm, far too big to be your jacket. You’re wearing this other guy’s jacket, so the date must be going well. He feels the bile rise in his throat at the thought of you in another guy’s clothes, the thought of another guy taking you home and kissing you and holding you and treating you the way you deserved - the way he never treated you. The worst part of it all is that Eddie knows he deserves this. He doesn’t deserve to get the happy ending, he burned this whole thing to the ground and he’s left searching for remnants of life in the wake of the fire. He pulls out of the parking lot, no destination in mind anymore. The flowers he got for you sit mockingly in his passenger seat, their sweet scent filling his nose as if to laugh at him. What the fuck does he do now?
After seeing Eddie at the ice cream place, you couldn’t get your head back on straight. You ended up telling Argyle you had a killer of a headache, and without hesitation he brought you home. Guilt tugged at your feet as you trudged up your stairs with him, tugged at your heart when he asked if there was anything he could do for you before he left. The poor, sweet guy didn’t even question it, showed no indication of him doubting your excuse. You knew you’d get an earful from Robin and Nance if they got wind of this. You’d promised Argyle you’d be okay and told him he was fine to leave, thanking him for the lovely date. You hated yourself for the way you couldn’t like him, the way every inch of your body and mind was stuck on Eddie. Nothing about Argyle was bad, and you lay cursing yourself on your mattress in your room. You eventually decide to change into something more comfortable, shed any tangible reminders of the date you ended too soon. You crawl under your covers in sweatpants and your coziest sweatshirt, pulling the blankets up to your face as frustrated tears burn your cheeks. Anger bubbles up inside of you, and takes over any other emotion you’d been feeling.
You’re angry that you can’t stop thinking about Eddie. Angry that you had to see Eddie tonight. Angry that you went on a date with a very nice guy and couldn’t get into it because of Eddie. Angry that Eddie left without a word when you told him you loved him. Angry that you let him treat you so poorly because you just can’t get enough of him. Cotton sweater sleeves are soaked with tears as you let the feeling flow from you, balling your hands up into fists and releasing them. Entirely unsure of what to do next, or how to get over this.
Eddie went home for all of an hour before realizing he couldn’t just sit around in silence and do nothing. Not now that he’d already had his plan literally in motion, he couldn’t stop. Even if you didn’t love him anymore, even if you wanted nothing to do with him, even if you wanted to throw the flowers back in his face and throw a punch or two, he had to open up to you. He gets in his car, hands shaking and stomach in knots as he prepares himself. For all he knows, your date could be back at your place with you. Or maybe you aren’t even home yet. But he has to try, has to get his feelings out in the open, at least so you know - even if you don’t want to be with him. It feels like every stoplight on his drive is mocking him, glowing red for seemingly agonizing amounts of time. The more time he has to think, the more sick to his stomach he feels. When he finally arrives in the parking lot of your place, he just sits for a moment. Taking shaky breaths, his stomach somersaults in anxious anticipation. One ringed hand reaches out for the beautiful bouquet of flowers beside him, picking them up by the crinkly paper they’re encased in before he opens his car door and shuts off the engine. Every stomp of his shoes on the stairs makes his heart pound faster, coming closer and closer to a confession bigger than any he’s ever given before. He stands in front of your door, begging silently for you to simply answer, and finally, he raises a fist to the wood to alert you.
The knocking startles you out of your slew of emotions, and you groan as you heave yourself out of bed. You’re fully expecting it to be Nancy or Robin at the door, or both of them, ready to interrogate you on why you cut your date short. You swing the door wide, mouth open and fully ready to defend yourself to the girls. Instead, you’re met with that curly frizzy hair and those round brown eyes that you know too well. Eddie stands like a deer in headlights, as if he wasn’t the one who knocked on your door, holding a massive bouquet of flowers in one hand. You let out an incredulous laugh, a no-fucking-way-are-you-here-right-now laugh. You go to slam the door right in his stupid beautiful face when he holds an arm out, wrenching it open.
“Wait. Please,” his voice chokes up as he says it.
“What the fuck are you doing here, Eddie? Saw me on a date with someone else and had to come assert your dominance or something?” you scoff, crossing your arms as if to protect yourself from more emotional hurt.
“No, I…. is your date still here?”
“What if he is, Eddie? Can’t wrap your head around the fact that another guy wanted to go out with me?” you snap.
“No no, I just… I don’t wanna do this if he’s here,” his voice is desperate, rushing to get the words out.
“He’s not here. And do what, exactly? String me along again just to leave me stranded in the end?” the words hurt you as you say them, a part of your heart wanting to just run to him and never let him go, and the other part wanting to run from him.
“I need to tell you how sorry I am. I’m so fucking sorry, Y/N. I was an asshole, a horrible person to you, and you never deserved it,” his eyes flicker down to his feet before tentatively meeting yours again.
“Oh, my knight in shining armor, arriving at my door to apologize and I’m supposed to just fall at your feet, huh?” you shift your weight, raising an eyebrow at him.
“No! No, I don’t expect anything from you. But I can’t run from my feelings anymore.”
“Feelings?” you furrow your brows, your chest tightening.
Eddie is silent for a moment, fingers nervously fidgeting with the paper surrounding the bright green stems and vibrant petals. You roll your eyes, about to shut the door once again when he speaks up.
“I love you!” he blurts, his eyes frantic as they search yours.
“What?”
“I love you. I love you so fucking much, Y/N. I’ve known you were special since I met you, you’re different than anyone else I’ve ever met. I was too much of a fucking coward to tell you how much I liked you earlier because… because I was scared of getting hurt. And all I did was hurt you in the process, and I’m so sorry.”
You’re dumbfounded, your mouth hanging open slightly as you struggle for words.
“You didn’t say a word to me, Eddie,” your voice comes out quiet, pained. “You left without a single fucking word,” you hiss.
“I know I did. And it was the worst mistake of my entire life. I panicked, I didn’t know what to do - and that’s not an excuse - but I’m so, so sorry.”
You can see the hurt in his eyes, the fear encompassing espresso brown. He’s not joking around, he’s not playing with you this time.
“And you don’t have to say anything else. If you don’t love me anymore, if you don’t want to be with me or see me ever again, I get it. Say the word and I will walk away and never show my face to you again. I was a jerk, and I don’t deserve you. But I swear to you, I will never - never - hurt you again if you let me stay. I’m sorry it took me so long to say how I feel,” Eddie’s voice is breaking, and you can tell how much effort it’s taking him to keep himself together.
You snap, then. Your love for Eddie that you’ve been trying to shove down for weeks, finally claws it’s way out. No more forcing it back. No more hiding. Your feet are moving before you can process it. You throw yourself at him, taking the flowers and tossing them to the floor, wrapping your arms around him and feeling him hold you.
“I hate you so fucking much, Eddie Munson,” you smile through your wobbly voice, a new kind of tears springing in your eyes.
And Eddie laughs, his eyes also watery, because he knows you don’t mean it.
“I love you,” he says.
“I love you, too.”
“Be mine forever, please,” he murmurs, his eyes fluttering shut as his lips ghost over yours.
“It would be the honor of a lifetime,” you say.
He presses his forehead to yours, letting you lead when you lean in to kiss him. It feels like fireworks go off above your heads, your lips colliding in a way that finally won’t lead to a quick fuck on someone else’s mattress. No, this time you kiss him and it feels real. You feel secure, no longer worrying that the floor will fall out beneath your feet. His hands hold your face, thumbs brushing soft strokes along the apples of your cheeks. You cling to him like he’s your lifeline, kissing him like you never have before. Pouring your love into him, filling his cup because he’s finally allowing you to.
“Wait,” you say suddenly, pulling back. Eddie’s stomach drops, worried you’ve changed your mind. “I owe you an apology too,” you say.
He gives you a questioning look.
“I know you weren’t flirting with those women at The Hideaway the night we went out… Nancy told me it was a misunderstanding… and it was wrong of me to accuse you.”
“Sweetheart… you had every right to assume. I wasn’t exactly the kindest to you…” Eddie frowns.
“Even so, you weren’t flirting and you still deserve some grace. I’m sorry, Eddie. I blew this whole thing up in your face over something you didn’t actually do,” your voice is remorseful, and Eddie tilts your chin up with his index finger.
“I forgive you, always. I was never upset with you for that,” he promises, and his heart aches. The sweetest thing standing before him, apologizing when there was no need to.
You kiss him again, pulling him with you as you shuffle backwards into your apartment. He kicks the door shut, holding you to his chest as he stands against it. Your fingers clutch the collar of his shirt, mouth moving against his with fervor, like this is your last chance to kiss him. Eddie gasps in surprise when you tug him even closer to you, his large palms spanning across your back and holding you snug to his body. Tongues find their way into each other’s mouths, soft like velvet as they lick and explore. You find yourself grinding your hips into his, your body desperate to have him in a way like never before.
“Sweetheart, sweets,” Eddie pushes out between kisses, finally holding you back from attacking his mouth once more. “This doesn’t have to go any further… if you don’t want it to. I don’t want you to think that’s the reason I’m here,” Eddie says, and his tone is suddenly sad. You know the guilt is still eating at him, and will probably continue to eat at him no matter how much you reassure him going forward.
“I don’t think that’s why you’re here,” you reply, cupping a hand to the side of his face and looking intensely into his eyes, reassuring him. “But I’d be a dirty fucking liar if I said I haven’t missed your cock lately,” your voice drops lower, leaning up to his ear to murmur the words into it.
Your breath tickles his neck and he shudders, his cock stiffening in his jeans.
“Shit, baby,” he breathes, diving back down to your mouth for another heated kiss.
You lead him to your bedroom, somehow managing to make it safely despite the fact that your lips might as well be velcro’d to each other. Your hands roam his body like it’s the first time, butterflies fluttering madly in your stomach. Eddie’s hands are gentle on you, touching you in a new way. Nothing is rushed or hasty, instead Eddie takes his time as his hands find their way up your sweatshirt. You shiver when his fingertips graze your hips and start to glide up your back, his mouth devouring yours all the while. He groans into your mouth when you reach a hand down to palm him through the denim of his pants, making you pull back to smirk at him.
“Getting worked up for me, Munson?” you tease, silently reveling in the way he’s letting himself be more receptive to you.
“You have no idea, sweetheart,” Eddie murmurs, his hands steady as he holds you.
You smile, leaning back in to kiss him with a clash of teeth. Eddie pushes you backwards gently, taking slight control as he encourages you down onto your bed. You lie back on your mattress, spreading your legs open for him to slot himself between. He climbs on top of you, hovering over you, dark curls falling in your face and tickling your skin. Your phone rings then, breaking you both out of the moment. The screen lights up with Nancy’s name, and you can’t help but laugh. Texts from Robin pop up right after, and Eddie raises a brow at you.
“I’ll debrief them later,” you smirk at him, shoving your phone away and holding his face in your hands.
“I’m so incredibly in love with you,” he says, his eyes pools of melted chocolate, sickeningly sweet with adoration as he gazes at you.
“You have no idea how badly I’ve wanted to hear you say that,” you breathe out a little laugh, reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind his ear.
“I never thought I’d feel this way about anyone… never thought I’d let myself,” Eddie frowns slightly, relaxing when you grip his face in your hands.
“Thank you for letting me be the first,” you give him a soft smile, eyes lighting up when he blushes.
You pull his mouth back to yours, needy hands grabbing at the buttons on his shirt in a hint for him to remove it. He obliges instantly, unbuttoning it and sipping it off before being discarded onto your floor. You take a moment just to look at him, your eyes raking over his shirtless form. During your past hookups you never felt like you had the time to admire him, half the time you were too embarrassed to even try, for fear that he’d mock you for it. Now it’s different. You let your eyes and hands wander up and down pale skin, tracing the ink lines etched into various places. You can feel him growing harder in his pants when your fingers ghost over his crotch, smiling into the kiss when Eddie lets out a heavy breath.
“Need to get some of these clothes off you, sweetheart,” he mumbles into your mouth, pawing at the hem of your thick sweatshirt.
You help him pull it off of you, exposing your tits which lay perfectly on your chest, nipples perking up from the chill of your air conditioning. It’s his turn to admire you now, his hands cupping the soft skin of your breasts as he looks at you like you’re the greatest thing he’s ever seen.
“You’re s’fuckin perfect,” he murmurs, pressing kisses to your neck. “‘M so lucky,” a kiss to your collarbone, “the luckiest guy in the world,” his lips trail down to your tits before he wraps them around one of your peaked nipples.
His tongue kitten licks the sensitive little bundle, getting you breathless as his mouth switches over to the other one. One hand finds its way beneath the waistband of your pants, fingers curling over your mound still concealed by the thin fabric of your panties. There’s a wet patch already forming there, and you know he can feel it. Your cheeks flush when his fingers circle the wetness and he gasps a little, giving you a devilish smirk.
“Oh? What’s this?” he teases, leaning down to kiss your lips and then trailing his mouth to your jawline.
“Need you,” you whine, too desperate for him to retaliate against his taunting.
“You have me, sweet girl. For as long as you want me,” he brushes a strand of hair out of your face, leaning down once more to kiss you all over.
His lips move over the swell of your breasts, down to your bellybutton, finally stopping right above the fabric of your sweatpants. Big brown doe eyes look up at you, waiting for permission. You pull your bottom lip between your teeth, nodding at him as you feel yourself tremble slightly with anticipation. He hooks his fingers into the cozy fabric, tugging the pants down your legs before tossing them to the floor. His mouth kisses over your underwear, tongue pressing flat against your folds, causing you to moan at the heat you feel at your core.
“Ed-dieeeeee,” you choke out between a gasp, reaching a hand down in an attempt to take your panties off.
“So impatient, aren’t we?” he purrs, admiring the wet spot he contributed to on your underwear before pulling them off and letting them mingle with the rest of your discarded garments.
He buries his face in your cunt almost instantly, his plush lips so soft against your folds as he presses kisses to them. He tongue is gentle when it first licks a stripe up through your wetness, and you hiss at the contact. You missed his mouth on you, missed his hands roaming your body. It feels so good to know he’s not going anywhere this time. Eddie wastes no time getting to work, his tongue dipping inside of you before playing with your clit, shaggy curls tickling your inner thighs as his head moves. His name falls from your lips like a mantra as he devours you, licking and sucking on you like you’re his last meal. He ruts his hips down into your mattress, erection straining in his jeans. You notice the movement and halt him immediately, almost losing your breath when he looks up at you with sparkling eyes, chin glistening with your slick.
“Why don’t you take those jeans off, handsome?” you encourage, reaching down to run a hand through his wild hair.
His fingers undo his belt buckle with ease, it’s the handcuff one that you always struggled to maneuver. Black denim joins the pile on your floor, and you notice the tented fabric of his boxers instantly.
“Poor baby,” you coo, “look how worked up you are for me,” your gentle fingers stroke his shaft through the fabric, earning a deep groan from him.
“Feel so fuckin’ good, baby,” he rasps, and you can tell how desperate he is for more contact.
“Why don’t you fuck me, then?” you ask, looking up at him with half-lidded eyes.
Eddie doesn’t need to be asked twice, shoving his boxers down his legs and off entirely. His cock springs free, and he’s harder than you think you’ve ever seen him. You can see the veins protruding from the shaft, the head a flustered red with pearlescent pre-cum just starting to drip out. A patch of dark curls rests at the base of his cock, enticing you, his heavy balls hanging low beneath. You nearly whimper at the sight, and he watches you as you take in every inch of him. He’s always loved the way you love his cock, though it’s never felt quite like it does now. He knows he’s presenting himself to you in a new way, and you’re admiring him in a new way. All he wants now is to bury himself inside you, feeling every single inch of your tight pussy as it swallows him whole.
“You ready for me, baby?” he questions, leaning down and hovering mere centimeters from your lips.
“Mhm, please,” you whine, keening up to press your lips to his in quick kisses, a tiny string of saliva connecting the two of you.
One of Eddie’s hands grabs the base of his cock, rubbing it up and down through your wet folds. You arch your back instinctively, gasping at the sensation. Eddie chuckles, low and deep, pressing kisses to your jawline and traveling down to your neck. Without much warning he slips his cock into you, the head stretching you as it paves the way for the rest of him. You let out a pornographic moan, holding nothing back from him this time around. You want him to know how good he makes you feel, how he sets every inch of you on fire in the most remarkable way. He continues to stretch you open for him, groaning at how easily you’re taking him.
“Shit, sweet girl, you’re just suckin’ me right in,” Eddie praises, his forehead dropping to rest on top of yours.
You can’t form words in response, the air being punched from your lungs when he sinks the last inch of him in. You’re so incredibly full of him, you swear you can feel him in every inch of your body. Your hands wrap around his back, clinging to the backs of his shoulders, hooking yourself to him. You want him closer than ever, need him all to yourself, and the way he brushes his nose against yours lets you know that he’s not going anywhere. He starts to slowly move, hips rocking as he thrusts gently. Even with his subtle movements, the sounds coming from your cunt are obscene, and all he can do is curse under his breath. You whimper beneath him, clinging ever tighter to his soft skin.
“What is it, baby?” he asks, stroking your cheek with the backs of his fingers.
“A little harder, Eddie, please?” you ask, round eyes looking up at him.
“Okay, sweetheart. But I don’t wanna just fuck you tonight,” he says, pausing to kiss you. “I wanna make love to you, the way I should’ve been for months now,” he admits, his cheeks flushing pink at his vulnerability.
“I love you so fucking much,” you whisper against his lips, “make love to me then, Eddie.”
And that he does. He gives it to you a little harder, knowing it’ll drive you crazy if he keeps his movements too slow. But his strokes aren’t rushed, he’s not in a race to cum, he’s just taking his time with you. He rolls his hips into you, dragging out each thrust and letting you feel every vein and ridge in his cock as he stretches you. You’re a moaning mess beneath him, hair sprawled across your pillow, eyes glassy as you grow dumb on his thick length. Your lips brush, oftentimes frozen slack-jawed as you moan into each others’ mouths. Eddie devours every sweet sound you make for him, pinching his eyes shut as he picks up his pace a little. His balls slap against you as he delivers each thrust, filling you to the brim before pulling back out. His movements are sensual, his hands kneading your breasts or gripping your hips as he fucks into you. He kisses all over your face, unspoken ‘I love yous’ communicated by the affection.
You’re filled with so many emotions as you let him unravel you, your eyes welling up with tears. Having Eddie to yourself feels better than you could’ve imagined, every single snap of his hips into yours reminding you that this time, everything is different. He’s soaking you in like you’re uncharted territory waiting to be discovered, caressing every curve and dip of your body. You babble nonsense beneath him, his name falling from your lips over and over. Your lips are wobbly, eyes watery as you’re overwhelmed with adoration for him. Eddie’s quick to kiss your tears away, whispering his affections for you between each press of his soft lips.
“My favorite girl,” he mumbles into your skin.
The sentiment he’d given you so many times before, the one you always hoped he meant, always pining to be his most important girl. It sounds sweeter coming out of his mouth now, no doubt in your mind that he’s speaking the truth.
“‘M so close, Eddie,” you pant. “Gonna cum. Don’t stop don’t stop don’t stop,” your eyes roll back in your head as Eddie keeps a steady pace.
The tip of his cock hits just where you need it to, setting your insides ablaze. Eddie’s close, too, you can tell in the way his breathing has grown staggered.
“I’m gonna cum too, baby. Want it inside?”
“Yes,” you cry out, “please.”
Eddie rocks into you a few more times before you’re cumming around him, walls gripping him so tight, fluttering against his cock and giving him the friction he so desperately needs. You’ve got a death grip on him as he spills his load inside of you, his hips slowing as every drop fills you. He finally stills once every drop has left him, taking heavy breaths as he grounds himself. Your tits are pressed against his chest, feeling him so impossibly close to you, sweat coating your skin as well as his.
Chocolate brown eyes meet yours as you come out of your euphoric haze, Eddie giving you a lovesick grin. You giggle as you smile back at him, still catching your breath.
“That was amazing. You’re amazing,” Eddie says, letting out an airy little laugh.
“Feels so good to love you,” you reply, making him blush yet again.
He pulls out of you slowly, making you wince slightly. He goes into your bathroom without a word, grabbing a clean towel and getting it slightly damp with warm water. He returns to clean you up, wiping your sensitive skin oh so gently, leaving kisses on your inner thighs in the towel’s wake. You sigh contentedly, curling up under your blankets while Eddie goes to clean himself up. He makes himself comfortable in bed beside you once he returns, silently staring at you once more with those gorgeous eyes, saying so much without even opening his mouth. He pulls you closer to him, kissing the top of your head and rubbing your back.
“Thank you,” he says quietly. “For everything.”
You don’t say anything in response, words aren’t necessary to convey how you feel. The way you curl closer into him, wrapping your arms around him and squeezing, says everything Eddie needs to hear. You fall asleep not long after, the sound of Eddie’s breathing and the feeling of his strong arms around you soothing you into a slumber.
The next morning you wake to sunlight peeking through your curtains, casting a soft orange glow on your entire room. You rub your eyes, letting them focus as you look around your room. Your gaze lands on the discarded clothes on your floor before trailing upwards, over the sleeping form beside you concealed by your comforter, until it finally lands on Eddie’s face snuggled into your pillow. Frizzy curls sprawled over the pillowcase, long eyelashes kissing his cheeks as he continues to sleep peacefully. You smile to yourself, your heart thumping in your chest as you hear him snoring softly. After the mess of the last couple of months, your aching heart and puffy eyes over the last couple weeks, the dust is finally settling. Everything was set on fire, and you’re realizing now that flames don’t always leave decay and destruction in their wake. Sometimes, they pave the way for new growth, blossoming beginnings. You and Eddie lie here together now, as the smoke leaves the air and the sun rises, bathed in the afterglow.
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evie-sturns · 8 months
Text
ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴇʀ ᴄᴀᴍᴘ - ᴍᴀᴛᴛ ꜱᴛᴜʀɴɪᴏʟᴏ
part 2 (part 1 here)
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summary: you and your best-friend matt, have decided to sign up to be a summer camp counsellor for your school's summer project! will you two stay as just friends? or will this summer turn out different for you guys.
a/n: theres going to be smut in the next part, hope you guys like this, read part 1 first, linked at the top! fuck danielle
contains: swearing, fighting (physical at some points), kissing/making out
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abrubtly matt pulls away, he saw me. his face drops as dani stares at me. my heart thumps as i freeze. matt tries to walk over to me, but its too late, i've already took off in the other direction.
i've found myself in the empty staff bathrooms, hiding in the stalls. matthew wasted my time, i spent half the fucking roadtrip up here comforting him, then he goes and makes out with her a few hours later?
i can't even understand why im feeling like this, why am i so.. jealous?
the door to the bathrooms swing open, probably matt, coming to explain himself.
"hey, come out of the stall please." a female voice calls out, "who's this sorry?" i say, still on the verge of tears.
"danielle."
my breath hitches in my throat, before i swallow hard. "oh." i mumble, unlocking my stall. im met with her face, shes still wearing the same outfit she was wearing while kissing my best friend.
she suddenly interupts my thoughts, "look, i don't know who the fuck you think you are? but don't go snooping into me and matts personal business, unfortunately hes mine." she says while crossing her arms, i scoff.
"funny you say that, because the whole car ride up here matt's been dreading seeing you, his exact words were, 'fucking hate her' so if i were you i'd back away hm?" i say in a 'sympathetic' tone.
she clenches her fist, running her spare hand through her dark brown bob before smashing her fist into the side of my face.
"what the actual fuck!" i yell before jumping at her, throwing her to the floor. the next 5 minutes are a blur of screaming, punching, hair pulling before she gets pulled off of me.
its jessie, the owner of the fucking camp.
she looks pissed.
(15 minutes later)
ive been sitting alone in the nurses office for 10 minutes, its now 11:30pm, i have to be awake in 7 hours for breakfast setup.
the door to the room im in swings open.
its matthew.
"y/n, are you okay? i heard what happened" he says frantically, sititng down on the chair beside the medical bed.
"oh please matt, dont act like you care." i mutter out.
"what?" he says cluelessly.
"look, go find out how danielles doing, oh! or you could fuck her while your there, go back to your cabin with her!" i yell, matts eyes widen as he looks at me.
"we aren't sharing a cabin, im with lincoln, shes with paige." he mumbles as he fidgets with his hands.
i laugh out of disbelief before standing up, pushing past him out of the room im in before swinging open the door to the nurses office.
the cold night air hits my fresh wounds as i approach my cabin, the lights are on inside meaning Xavier is still awake. i swing open the door, xaviers face drops "babe what the fuck happened!" he says, running up to me and hugging me, "danielle happened." i sniff as he lets me go.
"you gotta get some rest, we're helping the kids do kayaking tomorrow okay? gotta be up at 6:30." he whispers, as he pulls the covers down on my bed, letting me crawl in.
(6:30am the next day.)
a loud honk blares through the campsite, before jessie on the megaphone starts "shark counsellers! the shark kids are lined up outside the breakfast hall, go help out in the kitchen"
i groan, my face still throbbing from dani's punches. xaivers sits up in the bed opposite me, "you feeling better.." he says, his voice raspy.
i nod, "mhm, not too excited about dealing with about 25 nine year olds." i mumble getting out of bed "you'll be right, theres 6 of us to control them we'll do it." he says optimistically.
i finish up getting changed, tying my hair into two braids. "you coming?" i say, looking at xaiver over my shoulder.
the hall is only a few hundred meters away from the staff cabins, which is now filled with 200 children. matt and lincoln are walking through the doors, dani and paige follow close behind them, too close for my liking.
i step inside, the smell of oatmeal fills my nose as i look around, theres countless tables filled with friend groups, in the back corner matts sitting alone on the last empty table, picking at his dry toast. i sigh loudly before walking over to him, he looks up at me, his eyes are puffy and red, he looks upset.
i sit down opposite him, his breathing picks up before he starts unannouced,
"dani and i.. have hated eachother since middle school. when i saw you get into your cabin with xavier i got fucking jealous. hate to admit it but i did. while i was walking towards my cabin dani approached me, she started touching up on my arms before pulling me off the path into the bushes. she kissed me, i don't know why i kissed her back, i think it was a jealousy thing, i wanted to get back at you?"
he sighs loudly as silence grows.
"look y/n, i really like you, and-" hes cut off by jessie on her fucking megaphone.
"helloooo campers! this is the first official day of summer camp and here are what each group is doing today!, crabs are doing rock climbing, which means it is mandatory to wear closed toe shoes. Sharks will be doing kayaking, please wear your swimsuit and your counsellers will take you down to the lake!"
i barely take in what jessie says, the only thing i'm thinking about is matt's previous sentence
look y/n i really like you.
look y/n i really like you.
(20 minutes later)
we've been sitting by the lake for a few minutes now, watching the kids attempt to kayak, im wearing a triangle white bikini with daisys printed on it, matt's sitting to my left, his eyes have been on me the whole time.
abrubtly he stands up, looking down at me. "come with me." he demands "huh?"
i stand up anyway, he takes my hand and starts to walk towards a shed, he opens the door and switches on the light. the dim warm lighting fills the room, revealing piles of wetsuits and life jackets.
he turns around and closes the door to the shed, locking it behind him.
he looks me in my eyes, his eyes dart down to my lips. "can i kiss you." matt asks, barely audible.
i gulp before nodding my head.
matt's hand holds my cheek gently before connecting his lips with mine. after a few seconds it turns into a makeout, his veiny hand holding my hair.
he pulls away slowly as his phone lights up, he scrolls through it before letting out a soft laugh "no way" he scoffs, rubbing his eyes.
"tonight were sleeping in the kids hall, like me and you, supervising.."
"you're kidding matt"
"nope, apparently theres a small cabin that connects off the kids hall, its got 1 bed that we share" he laughs
my cheeks flush, sharing a bed with matt, after this?..
—------------╚══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══╝------------——
hope you guys liked this, like i said there will be smut in the next part!!
taglist:
@iammattsturniolo @iloveneilperry @tatumrileyslover @chrisstopherfilmed
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thecapodomme · 6 months
Text
THE MUSE 🎨🖌️
Paired Up: DOM! Trevante Rhodes As Zyair Malloy x SUB! Black Fem/Plus size Reader!
Background Music/ Song Inspired by @kittehkwrites
Word Count: 4,390 (Yikes, but not counting the lyrics)
WARNINGS: Mature Audiences: 18+, Minors DNI -(HEAVY Daddy kink, BDSM, SMUT, SMUT, MORE SMUT! PROFANITY!, Established Relationship, , Some use of AAVE, The N word, light Bondage, Breeding kink, Tease and Denial, Wax play ,Choking, Grabbing, Hair Pulling, spanking, Praise, Smacking of the face ,Fingering (F), unprotected sex , A BIT OF A LONG READ, Some grammatical errors because IDK WTF i'm doing! (Capo say sike..Right now. lol But Im deadass) ... and all over Nastiness. Did I miss anything?
DISCLAIMERS:
-DO NOT COPY OR REPOST MY WORK.
-DO NOT TRAIN AI WITH MY WORK.
Synopsis: In the glitzy world of art and indulgence, Zyair and Y/N reign as the epitome of a power couple, their magnetic connection sizzling with untamed desire. Their love story ignites from the ashes of Zyair's artistic stagnation, sparked by the fateful encounter at a decadent sex party. From that moment, their lives intertwine, fueled by passion and creativity, leaving behind a trail of whispered rumors and envious glances.
As their anniversary dawns, Zyair prepares for his long-awaited art show, his first since meeting Y/N. Yet, his thoughts stray not to the gallery's pristine walls but to the allure of his beloved, whose presence electrifies every inch of his being. The clock ticks away as Zyair's anticipation grows, his yearning for Y/N eclipsing all other distractions as he finally comes home.
But time slips away in the tender embrace of their love, their passion threatening to consume them whole. As the hours blur into a haze of whispered promises and heated caresses, Zyair and Y/N find themselves ensnared in each other's arms, oblivious to the outside world. They are late for the grand affair, yet in the realm of their intimacy, time holds no dominion.
Taglist: @megamindsecretlair @notapradagurl7 @henneseyhoe @browngirldominion @melaninpov @hwadam-stories @spaceslutsworld @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @skvrpion @westside-rot @tvchi @kittehkwrites @kindofaintrovert @lostgalaxies
A/N: first off ... I'M RUSTY OK. Also I'm a bit upset because my older brother was like "who writes fan fics anymore they're so passé." 🥹 I said am I not a writer? Did I not get a journalism degree? Did my teachers not push me to do this and saw something? He didn't have anything to say back. But anyway! Is this self indulgent? YES. Are you still going to enjoy it? YES! BRAIN ROT....? YEAH IM GLITCHIN'! Be easy this is my first Fan fic/Smut I'm nervous. I love yall! It's real nasty because... I want him to do this to all of us! Do you hear me?! Slight delay because I was transfixed with the dialogue. I was really trying to get the essence of Zyair. If this gets positive feedback There may be a Prologue, a part 2 , and a part 3 if y'all feelin' this! Like, comment, reblog.... if your heart so desires! 🫶🏽
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It's been four years since Zyair's trial, and it was his first art show since then. Mea was long gone and probably still with her pinhead ass husband, and to think he really wanted to like her. He was breathing new life into his art, his name was cleared, and he was getting into his first real relationship. He found his ONE.
 Touring London and France during the summer months. His nights were long, and his days were short. You missed him whenever you hung up from talking with him all night or if he sent you a cute text. You knew he was premiering his new pieces from home tonight, and anything was possible with you on his arm.
Daddy: I'll be home later than usual. The show starts soon. Be dressed, be ready, and wear those heels I like. I'll come to collect you. You've been such a good girl. I can't wait to see you! This tour has been hectic.
You: Yes, Sir! I miss you more. Come home to me. ❤️🥺
Daddy: That's my Big Girl. I'm on the way. 
You gently placed your phone beside the claw foot bathtub on the vanity chair you'd drug over. The plush afghan carpet ruffled as you moved it to where you wanted it. The master bathroom on the first floor was spacious yet cozy.
An open shower in the back is made of dark marble and granite, and Zyair's closet is off to the left, surrounded by suits, ties, and his wardrobe. Although the loft was Gargantuan, unlike most places in Chicago, it had a makeshift industrial vibe that made it mysterious enough, you thought to yourself.
'It really needs a woman's touch.'
Drums and soft piano flooded your ears from the huge vinyl and Bluetooth sound system; you rifled through Zyairs' music collection all day. It was impressive, spanning from 70s soul to 90s R&B, which was very prized to his heart and his favorite genre. As you prepare to get ready as instructed by the love of your life, it always helps soothe your soul and set the mood for a night in the city.
You peeled out of your I murdered my husband's robes, Pinned up your waist-length Goddess locs, and began to run a bubble bath. Candles illuminated the floor, glinting your umber skin into the floor-length mirror beside the vanity.
You carefully sluiced a toe into the roaring torrent to test its temperature. With a satisfied grin, you plunged into its warmth and shut off the water; the suds were cloud-like and steamy, clinging to every part of you, and the scent of damask roses filled the air. Toni's contralto caressed you.
Whoa-oh, whoa-oh Oh-oh oh-ooh Whoa-oh, whoa-oh Oh-oh oh-ooh Baby...
Relaxation couldn't even begin to explain the euphoria encircling you. You've bagged the hottest artist in Chicago, are engaged to be married, and have much to look forward to as you start life with Zyair.
You hum along with the song as you grab your pink African exfoliating net, scrubbing from top to bottom. Occasionally, you slump your hand out to hold your phone in case he calls, or any texts from his art assistant flash across your dimly lit iPhone 15.
Head Bopping along to the beat and your legs kicking water onto the floor as you half danced in the tub. You were so bewitched by your daydreaming and bathtub concert that you couldn't hear a pin drop.
Arriving into the lot and slowly turning the corner, shined chrome and black wheels approached the entrance and parked, with a thud from the door to the Range Rover, where his driver let him off.
Since you been gone I been hanging 'round here lately With my mind messed up
Zyair stepped out of the vehicle in all black as usual; A pin stripped, short sleeved, button down shirt, noir wife beater, Prada slacks, and matching boots.
He quickly approaches the gate to the elevator, which was now broken. He shook his head in annoyance, and a frown curled at his lips when he realized. "Always on some bullshit," he scoffed.
A flick of his wrist, he checked the time. The gold bracelet draped on his wrist, twinkling in the light from the cars going in and out. He began descending up the inside stairwell to the third floor toward the loft.
With solid traces, he rose from the staircase. Slowly, he closed the exit door, hoping you didn't hear it squeaking to lock. Crossing the downstairs living room floor, he passed leather chairs, scattered and unfinished art pieces, and an acrylic-adorned curtain. He crept behind the curtain and into the room.
Jumped in my car Tried to clear my mind, didn't help me I guess I'm all messed up now, baby
His gait was slow yet boisterous. His hand behind his back, and he bounced a little with one foot pointed firmly in front of the other, walking straight and tall. His presence was always known in a room. He held a box of two dozen long-stem roses and a rounded, substantially sized jewelry box.
---
Meanwhile, you'd already gotten out of the tub as the first verse goes into the chorus. The Whirl of the water rushing out of the tub feels loud against the empty room. You check your messages once more and check the time yourself: 8:30 p.m.
As soon as I jumped into my ride Those memories start to play, yeah A song comes on, on the radio And there you are, baby Once again!
Rubbing your body in Fenty butta drop lotion for an unforgivable glow, you look into the long-length mirror to the side of your makeshift vanity.
You pull on your raven-colored thigh-high stockings, bra, and Lacey panties with the corseted back, putting your talons into your mouth as you turn and take in yourself. The finishing touch is a generous dab of merlot lipstick and a flick or two of eyeliner and mascara after setting your foundation.
Nodding as if to say, 'Im that bitch.' You slipped on your coveted Dior patent calfskin sling backs, carefully lifting each foot to get each one on. Admiring your supple breasts, hips, and bountiful assets. From all angles.
It's just another sad love song Racking my brain like crazy Guess I'm all torn up And be it fast or slow It doesn't let go Or shake me And it's all because of you...Hoo!
Zyair's panther-like proximity took you by surprise. He cocked his head to the side while taking in the sight of you setting down his gifts for you on the counter of the bathroom.
You didn't hear him stride up behind you. His hands gliding up your hips, and his luscious beard cuddling into the crook of your neck. Taking in your scent and his full lips, kissing your clavicle.
It made your heart palpitate. You felt his hands snake up past your bra as you relaxed into his embrace, letting your tensions melt into him. That familiar cologne of sandalwood and pimento that you adored wafted into your nasal cavities as his hand gripped your neck ever so gently but slightly, applying pressure.
"You look incredible, Y/N. Stay just like this." Zyair says in his full-bodied baritone, sounding like heaven to you after so long. Nibbling your ear into his mouth with a playful bite.
He was watching you in the mirror, hunched over you a bit as he towered above because of how short you were compared to his six-foot stature, hugging you to his manhood.
Your ass pressed against his inky slacks. You turned around out of his grip and held his high cheekbones into your manicured, blood-red nails, Sucking his bottom lip into your mouth as he gripped and massaged your ass from above, making you stand on your tip toes and your breasts heaving into his Adonis-like abdomen.
Since you been gone I keep thinkin' about you, baby It gets me all choked up This heart of mine keeps dreamin' of you And it's crazy, babe
"I missed you. You were gone all month. I thought we'd never have alone time."You sighed into his parted lips, trailing butterfly kisses from the pronounced girth of his neck down to his Aureate-colored chains that sat right on his sternum.
Zyair respired, and his massive pectorals flexed in unison with your smacking lips as you kissed every inch of his chest through his open-collared shirt. Looking at you in the mirror, he stopped your assault of smooches by holding your hand.
"I know I miss you when I'm gone too,Baby girl. A nigga can't stop thinkin' bout you." He gently pulled you towards him, giving you that boyish grin and a flash of those to-die-for ivories as he clasped your lower back.
His bulging frame surrounded you as he stood back with your hand in the air, making you twirl like a Princess.
Before he sat down causally onto the vanity chair and embraced you in a hug between his thighs and a gentle kiss on the forehead, he bent over to grab the things he'd laid on the counter, brandishing them before you. He gave you the rounded jewelry box first.
Sitting back, his posture was relaxed and confident to the side, and his right foot bore the weight as he man spread all alpha, chocolate, and delicious.
You'd think I'd had enough, yeah Soon as I get you out my head I'm in my car again, ooh darling Just one request from the radio I'm back in love, sugar Once again!
"Mmh, Look at you girl. "He breathed in satisfaction, looking as if he could eat you right then and there. His tongue glides over his bottom lip, and his eyes darken with lust. You giggled and rubbed his thigh as you looked into his face. 
You squealed with excitement and vigorously shook the box, dancing in place. "What is it!?" touching it to your ear as if you could guess from the sound.
Zyair huffed a chuckle and looked at you, shaking his head. "You goofy lil' mama." he stroked his hand down his beard while looking at you.
Once you were done playing the guessing game, you unwrapped the thing like it was Christmas and you were the luckiest girl on the planet.
Wrapping paper, bows, and cards with the company name on them flew up in the air and scattered onto the bathroom floor. You got to the gilded piece.
It's just another sad love song Racking my brain like crazy Guess I'm all torn up And be it fast or slow It doesn't let go Or shake me
"You like it, Baby?" Zyair cooed, his voice deepening.
"Baby, I don't need this. I have so much alr- "He stopped you before you finished.
"Nah... nah... this is totally different. Unique even. You've earn't it, haven't you? "He says with a slight Louisiana drawl, his shoulders moving as he laughed.
"Y—You're going to collar me, Daddy? "You flung your hands around his thick neck and embraced him. Your eyes watered from his compassionate actions.
"You're the only one I think about and want to be with. I said why the hell not? " He smiled and played with your hair, twirling it between his nimble fingers.
Zyair took the collar from your hands, holding it carefully in the box. He took out the skinny key and unlocked the seamless hinge to open it. You stood in front of him, back turned toward him so that he could put it around your neck.
His hands gently placed the jewelry around your neck and shut it closed using the same key. Tracing it with his finger and mouthing "Mine" while you both look in the mirror.
You looked into his dark eyes with love, facing him as he leaned in to lick your lips and kiss you.
His fingertips turned white as he gripped onto your curvaceous hips, picked you up, and set you atop the stand-alone double sink vanity. You pull him into you by his belt loop and wrap your thighs around his muscular waist.
And it's all because of you It's just another sad love song Racking my brain like crazy (Like crazy, babe) Guess I'm all torn up And be it fast or slow It doesn't let go Or shake me (Whoa, baby)
The both of you all tongues and slobber each other down until you feel his long fingers curling under the silky crotch of the fabric of your lingerie.
You felt the sting of his teeth latch under your jaw as he bites into your neck. You hiss in want.
"Ahh, Zyair..." You breathe into his neck, rubbing down his back.
"Take this shit off. You ain't gonna need it."
He growled as you heard the sharp rip and crack of the cloth coming away as he tugged them off of your body.
His hands fondle and squeeze you until he finds your clit; your body bows from his encircling rhythm as he massages your nub with the fingertips of his index and middle fingers.
The cold from his ring on that finger makes you tense up and sigh. He licked from head to toe with his enormous tongue covering you.
He stops suddenly at your waist. You whine and squirm, but he's holding your arms above your head and looking straight into your eyes.
He licks his lips and winks at you, curling them in that bad boy fashion as he unbuckles his pants achingly slow with one hand, standing up slowly.
You watch, sitting straight up as he holds you, watching him pull pleasure from your inner depths against with your back against the tile of the wall.
His dick threatened to poke you through his Black and Gold PSD briefs. He moaned as he pressed against you. You moaned and purred back at him.
Here come the strings Then somebody sings Only takes a beat And then it starts killin' me, darling Only takes one note, I tell ya From that radio It's just another lonely love song
"Let me take it out, Daddy... please..." you said through gritted teeth, never breaking eye contact. Your breath hitched in your throat and went dry from his persistent teasing.
"Beg for it, and don't waste no time." He looks down at his growing and tenting hard-on, bites his lip, and raises his brow at you, looking back at you with the same taunting look.
You looked confused and in need as you ached for him. Smirking and pressing his lips to your ear as you struggled.
"Use your words. Or we're going to be late."
You begin to break into a cold sweat as droplets appear on your forehead. Trying to comprehend how to get out of this predicament, you slowly open your mouth to say something.
Still, by that time, Zyair was already bringing you down to your knees and grabbing your Goddess locs while ordering you to keep your hands behind your back.
He didn't hesitate as he stood over you, his slacks and boxers down his muscular physique. All you could do was look up at him, mouth drooling at the sight of him.
"Gon' come over here and Suck me," he said mercilessly in a dangerous tone. His voice echoed through the bathroom and made your chest vibrate. You did what you were told.
The way he only emphasized SUCK with feeling made your lower limbs thump with elation. You were already dripping but tried to hold out.
Your breathing increased with each moment that you realized you weren't filled up with his dick. Veiny, beautiful, and thick. You lick your lips in anticipation.
"Mmh, that's my BIG GIRL. What you gonna do with it?" His moans send you shock waves as he insists on teasing you. You use both hands to wrap them around his thick member not sure if it's a rhetorical question or if he was using it as a mind fuck.
Damn.
Zyair snaps your head back against the marble of the vanity. "I can't hear you, Bitch. "He snarls. "I asked you a question."
You squeal at the force and nearly yell from your tummy. " What Daddy told me to!!!!"
He chuckles that deep, devilish laugh again as he releases your hair. Your breathing becomes even more ragged, and you shudder at the sound. 
Before he's even done, he grabs the back of your head and forces his hard length deep into your throat. The mere shock causes you to sputter and choke.
With no room to run or breathe, he fucked into it, fisting your hair, making you bend over on all fours as he leaned down over you, smacking your ass precisely on your cheek, leaving it fiery, making it ache and jiggle, gripping your supple flesh as he went to trace a finger down your drenched slit at the same time. He moans, watching the recoil.
You gently swayed your hips from side to side as he played in your wetness, not wanting him to stop as you tried to keep up the pace. He was enjoying being sadistic with you, but it was a first that he hadn't been gentle before.
"Take it all, Mama. Don't stop."
Sucking in a sharp breath at your failed attempts to come up for air.
Coaching you as you did so, using your hair like a lever, tugging at it to make you go deeper and deeper by the inch.
Your legs automatically closed onto his wrist as he sucked his fingers and dipped a few inside you, your essence pooling around your opening.
He dipped his middle finger, then the second finger, taking his sweet time alternating. Making you writhe below him. Soaked and needy was the name of the game.
He twisted and pumped his fingers inside, leaving you leaking around them.
You glucked and gagged on his dick and hissed as he inscribed you just enough to make you whine.
Your gurgling and moans echoed throughout the bathroom, and he wouldn't let up. Looking down at you, biting his lip in pure bliss.
"That's it...Just. Like. That." eliciting a low moan from his lips. You looked into his eyes as your eyeliner smeared down your face from the tears. Making it hard for you to see.
The constant smacking, gagging, and slurping made you close your eyes tight.
The twinkling flames of the candles melting onto the floor and his chiseled face coming in and out as you tried to stay alert. The noises turned you on more than the act. Until you felt a welting smack to the face.
"Look at me. I don't want you focusing on nothin' else." his breath shuddered, and he kept up the same pace until he got tired.
You whimpered from the sudden flush of pain. But kept going, your hands still behind your back. His strokes became less frequent as he slowly slid his dick out of your mouth to the tip.
He was done using your mouth for now. Removing his fingers from your pussy, sucking them clean like he hadn't eaten in days, and cupping a hand under your chin as he stood up at his full height, looking intensely into your eyes like he'd never seen you before.
A soft kiss to your mouth, and You popped him out with a plopping noise and began to jerk and stroke him. A chain of spit latched from your crimson lips to his thick manhood.
"Hold that thought, Princess." He smiled as he walked to the other side of the bathroom. You watched, still in the same position he left you, as he gathered up a slow-burning candle from the floor.
Walking back over to you, he tested the temperature on his inner arm. Nodding and pleased with the degree, he approached you.
"Down." He commanded gruffly.
You used your hands to lower yourself onto the floor on your stomach and breathed in nervously as Zyair stood above your head.
Looking up, he looked even more Godly as you viewed his body from this view below.
You settle, and he crouches beginning to pour some wax onto the middle of your back.
You groan in pain, but as the sting settles into a numbing puddle, your senses begin to awaken.
Some beads down into your ass cheek. He waits to pour more onto the back of your neck and shoulders. You flinch with each interaction.
"Mmmh... " You softly moan; you fidget with anticipation of the next drip.
"You Aight Pretty? " He asks.
"Oh, that feels so good. Daddy," your eyes closed, and your mouth slung open.
"It's been a minute." He says with amusement. "I knew you'd like it."
He pours two more burning spots onto your ass cheeks, stands, and blows the candle out, placing it onto the vanity.
Turning his head so as not to blow any ash or soot into your face, and gently pulls you up.
He sat you back into the plush red and gold vanity chair, his lips meeting yours once more, kissing you down your body, and His tongue engraving tiny circles over your neck and down your breasts. slipping off your bra down your shoulders. You trembled from his touch.
His hands cupping one after the other, his skilled tongue lapping and suckling onto each as he goes from one to the other. You groaned as he bit down and tugged with his front teeth.
"Mmh... Fuck.." you shuddered and gasped at him playing with your body in this way.
Suddenly he lifts you up into the air and parts your legs, holding your weight onto his broad shoulders, suckling and licking your clit into his mouth and greedily scooping his tongue over your soaked folds.
Shoving his tongue in between, you yelped from the sudden waves of pleasure hitting you, and just when it started to get good. He denies you yet again.
Sitting you back down in the chair, he pauses as he lifts each leg and purposely slings your thighs over his shoulders.
Anchoring you by holding the chair, leaving wet kisses down your ankles, and spreading your inner thighs to give them some love, too.
Your eyes closed again, and you rubbed the back of his burst fade as you yearned for him to be inside you.
Reaching out to touch his stomach, his dick poking that triangle made between your legs. You subconsciously thought about shoving his dick inside you. But knew better than to try him.
"Oh fuck baby... Please." You tried to stop him from toying with you, but he only glared at you.
"Please, what? PLEASE WHO?" He asked with a flair of arrogance, tipping your chin up.
" ooouuue.. Daddy..." You whispered.
"Yeah, Be a good girl, Y/N, and be still fo' me." With fervor, he lined himself up at your entrance, stroking himself a bit, holding your head from above to make you watch him slide into you.
"Sssss.... Fuck I missed this pussy, and I missed you so much." He entered you tip first. Forcing himself out and plunging in again profoundly, making your head go back.
"Z-ZYAIR!" you cried out in response to his torture.
Repeatedly dipping himself into you again and again… he was halfway in and hadn't even begun to bottom out this time.
He wrapped his large hand around your neck, and both of you groaned in unison. as he made one swift pump into your creamy nectar.
"Mhm, You feel allat baby? "He coaxed.
You grimaced and blurted out, "Fuck, just fuck me....!" you said, almost screaming. You couldn't take much more as you needed him like water.
smugly looking into your soul he swooped up the chair with you in it, and your body went limp as he slammed into you, filling you up like never before. Leaning into you just enough at an easy tilt that was nothing for him.
The man pressed 350 pounds or more, and this was light work. Your walls clenched down in unison with his pounding strokes, your calves flailing out from over his inner elbows but holding you in place just the same while he kept you right where he wanted you by the seat.
A gut-wrenching moan came from the depths of your stomach as you held onto his shoulders; you leaned into him, the chair leaving the floor as he powerfully thrust into you at the same time.
"You so fuckin' pretty like this." He grunted and praised you as all life had left your body, and nothing was left but the room spinning. You gave way to him, and moans started to escape you. 
"Yes, Daddy. Fuck! Daddy! YES," You pleaded and panted in pleasure as he bounced into you non-stop. Through hooded eyes, he watched you getting so close.
Zyair being the pleasure Dom he was is paying attention to how your body heaved and pulsated around him. He slowed, pounded, and roughly used his hips to kiss your cervix as he continued to try to break into your walls.
With calculated potency, he taunted you as you pushed him away, scratching at his abs.
"Na, this is what you wanted, right? Take it," He whispers.
hitting your hands away with one hand. He bucked his hips, going upwards and faster by the second.
In a swift motion he's putting you down on the floor in the chair as your body convulsed in complete surrender.
Your juices gushing in a splash of release. He grunted as your walls cradled his length, still deftly stroking into you, But he wasn't done with you yet.
Zyair moved you from the chair and bent you over in front of him while clutching your neck, his fingers curling on your throat. Dog walking you around the bathroom while pinning your ass to his hips.
He kisses your cheek lovingly as your moans echo throughout the room.
"This shit is mine, Hm?" He asked.
"FUC- FUCK!..."  
Your gaze followed Zyair's as you looked back and moved around the bathroom.
You mewed and tried to hold onto anything your hands could find. Rough, long, and hard thrusts make your thighs quake with ecstasy.
You felt his hard abs and balls hit against your clit as he dug into you. His hands squeezing yours comforted you yet made you weak for him as he took control once more.
The squelching and wetness from you only fueled him as he tried to fuck the shit out of you.
"Look atchu creamin' all down my dick and enjoyin' this shit, little girl."
Your eyes fluttered as his words did something to you. You saw stars behind your eyes as you felt wobbly and tense. Your orgasm growing near.
You found the wall to hold yourself up with, looking out into the living room, your claws digging marks into his palm as you grunted.
He chased you with his own release by going harder, pounding, swiveling his hips, and moving his hand to the back of your head, keeping your makeup-stained cheek pressed against the cool cement of the wall.
"SAY IT! " He hummed in your ear.
"ZYAIR! " You came instantly.
You screamed as you squirted all over the floor of the bathroom, making it hard for both of you to stand. Inaudible cursing and degrading remarks flew from his mouth as he nodded in gratification.
You felt warmth rush over you as he sprayed your walls with his seed. He purposely fucked it into you as you tried to squirm away. Removed his hand from your face to open your ass and watch as he made you take all of his kids.
His strokes slowed as the last of your leaking subsided. Both sigh in relief, Holding you by your hips and kissing over your neck as if he couldn't breathe without you. He smiles, holding you against the wall.
"I guess we're late ain't we." He laughs through a smile, his eyes crinkled at the ends as he looks at you.
"Aht, Aht! Fashionably." You taunted.
"You've been in my collection again?" He says with amusement.
"AND WHAT ABOUT IT!? " you rolled your neck in a comical attitude.
"I told you what that does to me, girl. You know nothing about that. My momma gave me those albums. "
"Let's shower before we miss our anniversary party".
With a hard smack on your ass as he grabs towels from the hooks on the walls running playfully after you, your laughing excitedly getting a head start as the last notes of the song come to a staccato.
So sad So sad, so sad (Sad, darling) So sad, sad love song Ooh, I heard it on the radio last night So sad So sad, so sad (Sad, baby) So sad, sad love song (Ooh) You got me singin' another love song all night, darling...
P/C: If you'd like to be added to my Tag list just say so it's MAD OPEN! i'll be glad to add you. I really do hope ya'll enjoyed it. Lord knows I had a time writing it for ya'll!
Special Shout out and a thank you to: @megamindsecretlair @notapradagurl7 @melaninpov @browngirldominion @nahimjustfeelingit-writes For bullying me..... (Nah just kiddin!) For making me see this through. all inspirational to me and incredible moots!
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ladykailitha · 6 months
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Icarus Part 4
Oops! I didn't realize this one had so many chapters done. I had been using it as my "I'm stuck on the other two stories so I work on this one to clear my head" story and I currently have five chapters backlogged. So instead of Batshit Soulmates today, you're getting two of this one. One now and one tonight.
In this chapter we have Eddie doing his research and we find out how he recognized Steve. Also Jeff&Eddie besties for life!
Pt 1 Pt 2 Pt 3
@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03
****
The last few days in Hawkins went by in a blur. Eddie couldn’t do the research he wanted to, not without alerting everyone else what he was up to, so he focused on buying both their albums and listening to them nonstop.
“This that band you went to go see?” Wayne asked after three days of him having both albums on constant repeat. “The one you were whining about have to go to?”
Eddie sat up from where he laying on the floor with headphones on and took them off, resting them around his neck. He pulled one knee up and draped his arms around it casually.
“Yeah,” he murmured. “Dustin has been gloating about it, so I would rather you didn’t add to the pile.”
Wayne crouched down so that they were eye level. “This about that secret you found out?”
Eddie opened his mouth to lie but Wayne just raised an eyebrow and he snapped his mouth shut with a click. He let out a low shuddering breath and then nodded.
“Yeah,” he said, “it’s about that.”
Wayne picked up the vinyl sleeve and looked at the cover. He studied the image a moment or two before he said, “You think that someone you know is in the band, don’t you?”
Eddie bit his lower lip and then sighed heavily. He knew he couldn’t keep it from Wayne, but he had hoped he would have been back in Cali before he realized it.
“I’m not one hundred percent sure,” he said tilting his head back, “but yeah. I think I know someone in the band.”
“You jumping to conclusions?” Wayne asked in that gruff but gentle way that was a staple of Eddie’s childhood.
Eddie looked up at Wayne and then shook his head. “I don’t know enough. Not yet.”
Wayne got to his feet with a grunt. “Good. You keep it that way. There’s probably a good reason for all that.” He waved at the vinyl sleeve. “So don’t you go pushing your friend’s buttons until you know that reason.”
Eddie nodded. “I read you loud and clear.”
Wayne ruffled Eddie’s hair and walked away, leaving Eddie with plenty of time to think.
****
Dustin was staying in Hawkins for the whole summer, so when Eddie left, he was finally on his own.
Finally able to get out of his head and do some real research. He also knew better than to do anything than listen to his own music mid-flight. Too many wandering eyes.
Any one of his fellow passengers could be some blogger, Youtuber, Tiktoker, influencer or actual fucking press.
Thankfully the flight was most empty and short.
He was met at the airport by his manager Chrissy Cunningham.
She grabbed his bag, leaving Eddie to juggle his guitar better.
“Record management has all four of you in a hotel nearby,” she told him as she stowed the bag in her trunk. “They want you sequestered this time.”
Eddie winced. It wasn’t for any music related reason, though he didn’t doubt the sequestering would help with the process.
Nope.
It was because last time Gareth and Brian went on a three day drinking bender and were too sloshed to function for at least two days after that. Almost a whole week of recording down the drain because half the band went off the rails.
“Roger that!” Eddie said with a jaunty two fingered salute.
“You can have alcohol sent to your room,” she continued as they got into the car. “But Gareth and Brian aren’t allowed. So if you share your stash, that’s on you.”
“You can count on me and Jeff not contribute to the delinquency of our bandmates,” Eddie bit out. “We were just as pissed as the label when we couldn’t get a hold of them for those five days.”
Chrissy nodded. “Fame can really do some fucked up shit to people.”
Eddie hummed his acknowledgment. “Just please tell me I’m not sharing with anyone. You know they all hate sleeping in the same room as me.”
Chrissy snorted. “Only because you stay up all hours of the night perfecting song, while they actually want to, oh I don’t know...sleep?”
Eddie cackled. He was the world’s worst insomniac when they were working on an album. The rest of the time he was a sound sleeper.
“But no,” Chrissy hummed, “you all have your own suites. With Brian and Gareth on opposite sides of the hotel so they don’t fuel each other’s vices.”
Eddie let out a deep sigh. “That’s great news.”
They went up to Eddie’s suite and he immediately got to unpacking. He couldn’t stand living out of his suitcase and didn’t know how anyone else could.
He ordered a couple of six packs of beer, his favorite vodka, and a couple of whiskys that should last him at least a couple of weeks. He stashed the beer in the suite provided mini-fridge and settled down to watch Youtube on the big screen TV.
He was just devouring everything he could on The Fallen. He started with their music videos. The one for “Kiss the Boys/Kiss the Girls” was especially sweet. He found out that the lead singer was bisexual and that the song was about finding love in whatever form that took. With a full verse on non-binary peeps despite the title.
But the videos weren’t helpful. The band themselves were rarely in them. So Eddie turned to interviews. Impromptu ones on red carpets and podcasts, as well as sit down interviews for talk shows and entertainment press.
Again the lead singer was charismatic and charming. And it was looking more and more like his theory was correct.
Then he came across the interview.
“How does Azrael see out of his mask?” the Vanity Fair interviewer asked.
The drummer pulled out another mask and handed it to Abbadon. It seemed like it was part of the shtick that the drummer never spoke.
Abbadon held up the mask to the light. “You can see that the eyes are a mesh-like material. It works like a one way mirror. You with the strong light, can’t see in, but Azrael with darkness of the mask can see out.”
Eddie hummed his interest. That was a cool trick. It meant that the drummer wouldn’t get hurt while still maintaining that anonymity.
And it appeared that the interview thought the same as they nodded along, impressed.
“What is the reason for the masks?”
Astraeus leaned forward into the mic. “Because when we first got started no one would take us seriously as ourselves?”
Just then the hotel door swung open and Eddie quickly pressed pause. He sighed with relief when he saw it was Jeff.
Jeff stopped in his tracks to stare at the screen. “Oh hey, The Fallen. They’re pretty cool.”
Eddie whipped his head around and glared at him.
“How do you know about them and I didn’t?”
Jeff laughed. “Dude, the radio embargo was you thing, not an everyone thing. They’re really good. I love their new single ‘You’. It’s really sweet.”
Eddie nodded, it was really good. It was one was of his favorites, too.
Jeff got closer to the TV. “Wait. Is this the ‘metal fans would hate us if they saw who we really are’ interview?”
Eddie nodded. “Yeah.”
“That’s such bullshit,” Jeff scoffed. “Metal fans are the most welcoming group of fans out there.”
Eddie chewed on his bottom lip and thought about Steve. And how preppy he still dressed even this far outside of high school.
“Not if they were preps,” he said softly.
That brought Jeff up short. “What now?”
“I think Abbadon is Steve.”
Jeff started laughing and laughing like he couldn’t stop. Eddie rolled his eyes and pulled up the picture he had taken of The Fallen’s lead singer. Once Jeff had gotten control of himself, Eddie showed him the picture.
“Okay...” Jeff said. “I’m not sure what this shows other than your obsession with necks.”
“Zoom in.”
Jeff rolled his eyes but did as he was told. “Okay, so what am I looking at?”
Eddie licked his lips nervously. “You see those two moles, just under his chin?”
Jeff half shrugged. “I mean, I guess.”
“Steve has moles in the exact same place,” Eddie explained. He took the phone back from Jeff and went through his IG feed. He pulled up a picture of Steve. The angle wasn’t exact, but it was close enough.
He handed it back to Jeff. “Now zoom in on the neck.”
Jeff did as he was told.
“Holy fucking shit!”
Eddie pursed his lips and chewed on the bottom one. He played with his rings and was just fidgeting.
“Dude!” Jeff cried. “We should tell someone!”
Just then Eddie’s fidgeting hit the remote and the video began playing again.
“Is there any chance of a future reveal?” the interviewer asked.
Asmodeus leaned into the mic and said, “Ask us again in ten years when we’re world famous.”
Eddie managed to get a hold of the remote to pause it again and in the resulting silence Jeff and him shared a glance.
“Fuck, dude,” Jeff said. “We can’t say shit, can we?”
Eddie shook his head. “It would be like outing a queer person before they were ready.”
Jeff came around the sofa and flopped down next to him.
“Wow,” he said with more than a little awe. “So Steve Harrington is in a metal band...” He let out a shuddering sigh. “And is good. Not just good, but damn good.”
Eddie nodded. “Is it bad that I kinda feel like I’ve been tricked?”
Jeff let out a slow breath. “Look, I’m not going to tell you how to feel, but if no one knows, that it’s not personal.”
“You mean to tell me that no one knows?” Eddie hissed, getting to feet. “Not Robin, not Dustin? Or any of the kids? Because I call bullshit!”
Jeff looked up at him. “Robin, maybe. Those two are attached at the hip. Hell, Robin could even be their slinky and sexy manager, Celeste. But Dustin, man? I wouldn’t tell that kid shit. Not if I wanted it to still be secret ten minutes later.”
Eddie fought to calm his breathing. Yeah okay. That tracked. Robin with makeup and a black wig would completely disguise her to the point that not even her own mother would recognize her if they passed on the street.
“Dustin wouldn’t–” he began but Jeff cut him off.
“This is the kid that spoiled Will’s surprise party that he was planning,” Jeff said, counting off on his fingers. “The kid that would go searching through his mom’s closets and under her bed looking for birthday and Christmas presents. The same one that announced our second album six hours before it was set to drop. I wouldn’t tell Dustin Henderson the time of day if I didn’t want everyone to know about it.”
Eddie huffed. He wanted to argue that all that was little shit. Not really that important. But then he remembered all the times where Dustin would say something out of context, something that all his friends would jump on him for, only for it to be revealed later that Dustin had spoiled some surprise. It was just that no one had realized it at the time.
This time he let out a long sigh.
“Yeah, okay,” Eddie said, sitting back down next to Jeff on the sofa. “And I know that if Steve had come to me and said he wanted to form a metal band, I would have laughed in his face.”
Jeff gave his knee a squeeze. “We all would have. So let’s do what we do best. We change the culture. We make the metal scene open to people of all walks of life, not just the freaks and outcasts. We make it safe for them to come out.”
Eddie let out a shuddering sigh. “Yeah. I could do that. We could do that.”
“Good,” Jeff said, patting Eddie’s knee. “It’s not going to be easy, but we’ve never liked easy.”
Eddie laughed as Jeff got up. “So what are you doing in my room anyway? Don’t you have your own?”
Jeff opened the mini fridge and took out a can of beer. “I forgot to order beer and I hate it warm, so I thought I’d steal one of yours.”
Eddie threw a throw pillow at him, which Jeff deftly caught and lobbed back at him.
Jeff came over and kissed his cheek. “Get out of your head and do something with all that restless energy you’ve built up with this eating away at you.”
Eddie let out a deep sigh. “Yeah, man. Thanks.”
Just as Jeff reached the door, he called out. “What would you and the boys think about inviting them to open for us on our next tour?”
Jeff grinned. “They would probably kiss you on the mouth.”
Eddie threw back his head and laughed. “Duly noted.”
****
Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21
Tag List: @cryptid-system @counting-dollars-counting-stars @papergrenade @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @danili666 @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @val-from-lawrence @goodolefashionedloverboi @i-must-potato @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @vecnuthy @irregular-child @yikes-a-bee @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @anne-bennett-cosplayer @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @y4r3luv @dragonmama76 @scheodingers-muppet @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman @eyehartart @dawners @thespaceantwhowrites @tinyplanet95 @iamthehybrid @croatoan-like-its-hot
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sashi-ya · 1 year
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𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝟐𝟑 DAY 7: STEPCEST Urahara Kisuke 𝘹 𝘍! 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳
Requested by: Anon ➡ For your event fem reader, stepcest with Urahara Kisuke tw: mdni. STEPcest, there are no blood ties. please, if you don't like, don't read. thigh fucking. vag unprotected sex. usage of sister and brother during the act. 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
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It’s bad. you can’t keep dreaming of him. With him. Of the things you want him to do to you.
“He is my brother” you repeat, knowing very well that he really isn’t. But to the rest of the world, he is like it. To you, even. And every night, since he moved back home, you’ve been dealing with your unacceptable needs…
Kisuke needed to come back home, he had had a serious fight with Yoruichi, and she had enough of him. In fact, you took her side, but you couldn’t let him sleep on a hotel. He can sometimes be… annoying, and a bad boyfriend. But he is not a bad person; Kisuke loses track of time when working at the lab and puts almost everything into one investigation…
Your throat feels dry. Your body sweated. It’s a hot night, summer should have left the town, but it seems to be reluctant to do so. With a silky white sleep gown, you go downstairs for a cup of water. However, you knew too well the thirst wouldn’t be satisfied this way.
Everything seems silent, Kisuke should be sleeping in the couch -or that’s what it seems to you –. But it turned it was just the sheets he never tents.
You hurry up, chugging the glass of cold water to cool your heat quickly. Yet, the moon outside catches your attention and you begin to day dream of those times where both of you were younger and met for the first time…
His father and your mother had married, and both being almost adults didn’t find it too terrible. As college represented a higher worry in your lives you simply accepted the new assembled family, discovering a high connection in between you and him. Kisuke soon left home for uni and some years after he started working at a laboratory he is now closer to preside.
And all throughout those years, and from the very first time you saw his face, you accepted loving him was off limits, even if your heart ached for him…
You sighed, with blurred eyes fixed on the argentum shine of the moon outside the window. But a pair of hands suddenly surrounded your waist from behind.
“Wha-?” you asked, scared. “Daydreaming? You look sad, (Name)-san… what happened?” Kisuke asks, resting his chin on your shoulder. His messy blonde hair grazing your cheek and neck, his sweet perfume reaching you, the warmth of his embrace feeling so holy and so terrible at the same time.
You take some seconds to answer. Growing up, Kisuke has always been very physically close to you and your family members. You couldn’t say it was just because he enjoyed touching you. You couldn’t simply push him away.
“I am ok, I was just remembering old times. That’s it. You should go back to sleep… or go to sleep for once. I know you are investigating something important, but your health should matter a little bit more, Kisuke” you scold him, as you’ve always done.
“Aaaa~ah… my older sister will always do this, huh? Not even the years that have passed changed you, huh?” he jokes, hugging you so tight, pulling you so close to his body that your breathing cuts short.
Your eyes open wide, when you can clearly feel the whole entirety of his flesh against yours. From his chest on your back, to his hipbones on the small of your back.
“Wh- stop it, for real. Go to sleep. I am tired too…” you stutter; the trembling in your voice can’t be hide, the anxiety rising inside you either.
“You are clearly sad, let’s go” he chimes, turning you around and lifting you up in his arms. He is quite tall and despite not having a huge frame, he is very strong. And no matter how much you could kick and hit his back with your fists, he isn’t letting you go. Instead, Kisuke laughs happily.
When he gets to your room, he throws you on the bed. Your heart pumps faster, and you can only repeat for yourself  “he is playing, he is your brother”.
“Make some space, I won’t go away until either you tell me what is going on or you fall asleep” he says, snuggling right by your side.
You are still unable to speak and can barely blink. You fix your gaze on the ceiling of your room; a soft blueish light kisses the walls and your skins. Kisuke hugs you, and your senses intensify. The sound of your breathing, the sound of his reverberates in your mind. Your heart pumps more and more blood and all of it seems to be going to one place only; your core.
He hugs you closer, turning you to side so that your nose ends up being inches from his chest. Kisuke is someone who finds trouble with keeping basic hygiene, but tonight his skin smells deliciously tempting.
You feel your head spinning, like your soul is about to leave your body. This is not ok. This is wrong. This is bad. He is your brother… he is not.
“Kisuke… can you go sleep in the couch?” you ask, painfully. The tone in your voice holds the aching need of a beast inside you. Your hands are sweaty, you are drowning in guilt but also in lust… if you move a single muscle more, it will be to kiss him.
“Why- I even bathe. Why I can’t sleep with my older sister??” he asks, and it seems to you that he knows exactly what he is doing. Urahara Kisuke is a genius, he probably knows… in fact, he always has.
“STOP CALLING ME OLDER SISTER. I AM NOT YOUR SISTER!” You snap, pushing him away and turning around. It’s either mistreating him or ruining your family. But when did Kisuke ever cared about morals?
He comes closer, this time spooning you. His hands so shamefully passing around your waist and landing down your belly button. The warmth of his breathe reaches your nape, while his nose buries in between your hair.
“You are my sister… and I don’t care…” the scientist whispers, torturing you with his lips lingering over your skin.
It all turns bumpy, and your muscles stiffen. You need him, you want him. Your body succumbs to the most depraved lust ever existing. Your back arches just enough for your buttocks to graze his now growing hardness.
“Kisuke… don’t do this” you beg, as his hands slide down your waist towards your hips. He pulls you against his crotch, this time with no absolute delicacy, to make sure you feel he is as horny as you are.
His hardness feels sinfully exquisite, and you can’t stop yourself from moving your ass from side to side; you want him desperate, so fucking needy. You want him to be even able to feel the wetness pulling in between your legs and perhaps even dampening your inner thighs.
And oh, he notices immediately after his pants are down. Enough of the smooth player, he can’t wait to taste you no more.
Your thighs receive his warm sex right in between them, closer to your now dripping panties but not enough to touch your labia. You squeeze your legs to trap him, as his hands now free your breasts from above your night gown. Kisuke’s fingers feel wonderfully pinching your nipples.
“Should I continue, my sweet sister ~?” he asks, rejoicing in the word sister because it is as sick and depraved, and it is also turning you on more than what you could ever expect.
Oh, the guilt, what a big kink.
“Fuck me… brother” “With great pleasure”
Kisuke immediately turns you around, topping you with no shame. His hand landing on your cheek, his lips approaching yours. Crossing any line ever traced, two mouths crashing in total concupiscence; two tongues dancing in pure sin.
Your step brother pulls your panties down, as both kiss with total passion. His fingers quickly reach for your wet flower, it even surprises that you are dripping so much.
“You are so incredible wet, how needy are you?” he asks, in between lip bites. “I need you inside of me, now. Now, please” you moan, leaving any reason behind, allowing your desires to take full control of your consciousness.
Kisuke doesn’t really need to finger you nor prepare your entrance, your walls are desperately hungry to feel stretch by him. He smirks, the strings of his precum that were forming on his tip and pooling on your belly button are the sweet show of how much he needs you too.
The blonde guides his hardness to your entrance, he doesn’t even need to move further as it slides so perfectly inside. He stays, for some seconds, right by your entrance making you curl your back and turn your eyes white from pleasure. He knows, he perfectly understands how your body works and how to make you pull from the bedsheets.
And right before he goes deep, with a ram than feels like breaking you in half, your eyes fix into each other’s.
His hips begin to move, but your eyes couldn’t. There was a feeling of deep connection and also intense regret in them. But most importantly, and despite all guilt, both felt like there wasn’t a safest place than each other’s embrace.
Kisuke goes deep as much as you buck up your hips, joining your cores almost inevitably willing to melt into one. He lets himself fall on top of you, while you hug his waist to keep him trapped inside of you. Kissing desperately, breathing moaning, drinking the other’s grunts and little “nhngs” and “fucks”.
Climax coming. Climax taking over. His flesh slapping yours, both sweating but never letting go. Your nails leaving the trace of their path engraved in his pale back.
Kisuke believes is not enough deepness and pulls you up to finally sit on his lap still penetrating you. Your legs around his waist, his nesting you around. His hands pressing on the small of your back and yours on his nape.
Explosively finishing in heaven, two sinful souls that have just condemned themselves to the infinite void of hell…  
“I wanted you since the day I met you” ; “I wanted you too… but this is wrong…” “Wrong would be not doing it, sister ~”
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taglist: @miabiaria @carmenthedreamer @stygianoir @electronicwitchcollection @aizenwifey @deputy-videogamer @efrodd17 @mizugami @uzxotic @cyberdazetragedy @bookandyarndragon 💖
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wlntrsldler · 7 months
Text
thinking non-canon luke thoughts because i just remembered the story of orpheus and eurydice and i had to take a breather
im thinking about how when luke was starting to have doubts about kronos’ plan; when he was slowly realizing that what the titan was planning was not going to fix everything the way he thought it would, kronos could feel luke slipping away.
im thinking about how it probably wouldn’t have been too late for luke to turn back and return to his friends, his family, and beg for their forgiveness, had he just not shown kronos his weakness, his achilles heel; but he did.
it was in a dream, it started out comforting, like it always did. luke was cleaning up after some of the younger campers in the hermes cabin. no matter how many times he told them to not leave their things on the floor and to throw away their snack wrappers, they wouldn’t listen. luke didn’t know why he wasted his breath reminding his siblings.
you were leaning against the door frame, a mischievous smile on your lips. “what’s up, cinderella?”
luke, startled, dropped the pile of dirty laundry he was holding. when he realized it was you, he rolled his eyes playfully, shaking his head, “i told you to stop calling me that.”
when you first called him cinderella, he was a little confused. the disney princesses all blurred into one entity in his mind. was she the one who ate the poisoned apple? the one who pricked her finger on the needle? there’s no way she was the mermaid, right?
when you returned the following summer, you managed to smuggle in a dvd of cinderella and one of those portable dvd players. the two of you watched it in secret while the rest of the campers were away at the bonfire.
at first, luke scoffed at the comparison, “how am i cinderella?”
“you always clean up after your siblings, silly,” you laughed.
he was still a little hurt by it, especially since he harbored a massive crush on you. why couldn’t you see him as a rugged prince or something? he thought maybe wishing that you saw him as a knight would be too cliche; but he accepted the kind-hearted pet name because it made you laugh. it was luke’s favorite sound.
the scene in his dream changed quickly after that. your mischievous smile turned into something more sinister as the darkness from outside trickled into the cabin. the pile of clothes he dropped on the floor disappeared and the floor began to crack, as if trying to swallow him whole. then the voice came.
luke knew that kronos knew about you then; how luke felt about you, how if there was anything that could stop him from joining, it would be you.
as the days went on, the pull to return back to camp was getting stronger. luke wanted to see you. he needed to see you. so he did.
behind the trees of your cabin, he stood there, watching you talk to your siblings. if he concentrated hard enough, his mind could replay the sound of your laughter. he was too far to actually hear it then, but he thought of it. he imagined it.
he even let out a silent chuckle when he thought about how badly you would tease him for spying on you like this; in another life, you’d catch him and joke about how he couldn’t get enough of you. in another life, maybe, he’d hear your laugh again. maybe he’d be the reason for it.
when kronos learned of luke’s escapade, the titan grew angry. the nightmares felt more personal after that. kronos seemed to know all of luke’s weak spots and threatened to act on them if luke disobeyed again.
there was one night that was particularly difficult. the titan was growing stronger and it was the first time luke couldn’t fight him off, the first time he felt himself losing control over his own body, his own mind. luke tried to wake up from his slumber, but it was no use.
kronos dangled a promise in front of him; a promise that if luke continued with the plan, a promise that if luke didn’t look back, kronos would leave you alone, that you’d survive. luke agreed to it. luke would do anything to save you.
but the pull was still there. kronos was right. luke wanted to leave, this he was sure of now, and the night he saw you just made it more difficult to follow through with the plan. he missed you.
in the final battle, luke was too weak to continue fighting. there was so much blood on his hands that he lost track of who he had hurt. he was tired. as he was about to succumb to his fate, he heard it.
“cinderella,” you called out. “hermes cabin is a mess. they need you back.”
luke was distracted by you. only you would be making jokes at a time like this. luke sent you a crooked smile and he received that mischievous smile of yours right back. he thought that it might morph into something evil, like it was one of his dreams, but it didn’t; it turned into something worse.
there was blood spilling out of your mouth. you froze in your spot before falling to your death.
“you looked back.” that voice.
he found enough strength then to do one last thing; with a rush of adrenaline coursing through his veins, luke stabbed himself in his mortal spot.
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ssahotchnerr · 1 year
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DBF Hotch is my weakness. Especially when it’s combined with jealousy and protectiveness.
Like you’re going out a on a date - hotch is already incredibly jealous about the whole affair.
BUT then you call him, crying, asking if he will come pick you up because the date was absolutely awful. He was such a prick to you and now you’re standing outside the restaurant, alone at night. And his protective instinct and anger at your date kicks in and he’s breaking every traffic law to get to you.
only one
it's been a while since i've written dbf!hotch and i've missed him SO MUCH thank you for requesting <3 wc; 1k cw; fem!reader, age gap, dbf/jealous/protective!aaron, aaron's a bit mean BUT doesn't last long at all, ends fluffy, some suggestiveness
all characters within this are 18+
you've been on your fair share of bad dates, but nothing compared to what you had just endured.
backhanded compliments one after the other, interruptions amidst all your sentences, snide remarks, even rude behavior towards the poor server waiting on the two of you. and to end the night, your date left you with the full responsibility of the check (you made sure to leave a generous tip too, rightfully deserved), and without a ride home.
your only solution was aaron, and you knew it wouldn't come easily; the image of his clenching jaw flashing through your mind when he heard you had a date, his disappointed and irritated 'have fun' as you left. but at this point, you didn't care. he was also the only one you wanted to speak to, the only one you needed.
"yes?" aaron's tone was neutral when he answered, not harsh but not enthusiastic either.
you opened your mouth to speak, but you simply couldn't find any words. shame and embarrassment prickled up and down your spine. your cheeks felt hot. you wanted to disappear.
"i'm getting work done. so if you have something to say, say it. don't waste my time." there it was.
you had been doing a fair job at fighting the sob that was aching within your chest, but his hard toned words finally caused the dam to shatter. your vision blurred from the multitude of tears, a string of whimpers and a sniffle leaving you.
his front dropped immediately. "tell me what happened."
"he-" hiccup. "god, it was awful. he treated me like i was an inconvenience to him. at the end he told me, it-" another hiccup. "and i, were a waste of time and-" you poured out everything, leaving aaron with a sick pit in his stomach.
his eyes squeezed shut, gripping so tightly onto his phone it could snap into two. "where are you?"
once you told him where, he hung up, not allowing you to say anything else. as much as that stung, relief filled you; at least he was coming to your rescue.
if your estimation was right - aaron was currently over thirty minutes away, maybe a bit more as result of saturday night traffic - consisting of people who were having a much more enjoyable evening than yourself.
however, he was pulling up at the restaurant within half the time, the wheels skidding to a stop as he approached. once parked, his door hastily opened, and he all but tore out of the car. his actions were hurried, enraged, and before you could blink he was at your side.
"get in." his hand found the small of your back, guiding you - and not very gently - towards his car, opening the passenger door for you as well. again, his urgency didn't give you the opportunity to utter a single word.
you slid into your seat, a push of air embracing you as aaron slammed your door shut. he moved around the front of the car, getting in himself. saying nothing, he began mindlessly driving the route back to your house.
the silence was tense in the air, thick as humidity on a hot summer's day. but then again, there had always been lingering tension between the two of you. and neither of you were stupid, you both knew what it was.
"well?" you finally said, both quietly and timidly.
"what?"
you exhaled heavily, wiping at your tears but failing miserably. "aren't you happy?"
your voice was defeated and a heavy sigh left him, all his anger vanishing. this wasn't a war. "sweetheart, i'm far from happy."
"and i can tell you're mad-"
"i'm furious." aaron interrupted, and you winced slightly. "but not at you." to accompany his words, his grasp on the steering wheel tightened, his knuckles turning white and his foot pressing a bit harder on the gas. "i'm livid that prick had the audacity to treat you the way he did."
you nodded slowly, the tears on your cheeks glistening from the outside lights - cars' headlights, the street lamps passing by.
"you know you're worth it, don't you." aaron asked, but there was also no question within his words.
another sniffle escaped you, followed by a shrug.
"i mean it. if that dense fool can't see everything you have to offer, he's clearly not in his right mind. and definitely not worth your tears."
he paused. when you failed to answer, he prompted, firmly to ensure you would no other doubts. "okay?"
you nodded again. "yeah. i guess."
"and i didn't mean to snap earlier." aaron took ahold of your hand, his eyes averting from the road to look at you. "i'm was upset, to put it bluntly. i'm not very fond of sharing you, and i wish i didn't need to."
you turned slightly - still clutching onto hand - finally allowing yourself to face him. "then why haven't you asked me out?"
the forbidden question. the circumstances made it difficult, you were his best friend's daughter. he was your father's best friend.
but you were tired. aaron was tired. both of you were in desperate need of each other. when you were around aaron, the constant burn of needing him close, needing to touch him, needing to indulge in him until you forgot your own name and more, was becoming agonizing. you couldn't care less about all the holdbacks anymore. you needed him.
and aaron now, seeing your tear slicked cheeks, knowing no one else could treat you better compared to him - he's never wanted you more. no matter how wrong it was, nothing was more right.
aaron flicked on the turn signal, choosing the route that would drive you away from your home. his voice was confident, casually dominant. "the night's still young, isn't it? give me the chance to turn yours around."
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naughtyneganjdm · 1 year
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One Time Thing
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Summary: With every meal, a member of Alexandria that Negan finds himself affectionate for comes down to visit him. On this day, Negan lets Y/N know how he feels about her leading to a sexy moment between the two of them.
Characters: Negan, the reader (OC, third person), etc.
AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/47527771
Warnings: 18+, Swearing, smut, oral (male and female receiving), etc. 
Notes: I made a challenge for myself to write a short one-shot to go along with a smut prompt sentence. I was given "*this is a one time thing* negan x reader but the one who falls in love first is daddy Negan" ... I hope the person that requested this enjoys it! And if you liked this in any way, please let me know! Y/N means your name or whatever name you want to add. Do I have to keep saying this or is it pretty well known at this point? Oh well, either way. Enjoy!
Laughter echoed throughout the small, mundane cell that Negan had been locked up in for God knows how long at this point. Pulling his eyes away from the book that he was reading, Negan looked to the window that they had given him to see that sun was pouring in. It was hot. Uncomfortably hot for him at least. It felt like he was being baked inside of his cell, but out there? Kids were playing soccer together having fun. From where Negan was seated at the corner of his cell, he felt a sense of loneliness fill his body when he tipped his head to the side.
The sounds outside reminded him of when he was younger. When him and Lucille lived in their small little home. Every summer the kids would get together and play sports in the middle of the street with one another. Closing his eyes, he still vaguely remembered what it was like back then, but the memory was somewhat of a blur and he hated that.
Huffing, Negan set his book down beside him and pulled apart the buttons of the blue long sleeve that they had him in. Tossing it on top of the small cot, he got more relaxed and slid his feet further out onto the floor. Stretching out his long legs, Negan looked to the door of his cell. Usually he would be having someone coming down to give him his lunch right about now. Most of the time he didn’t care much for visits, but Negan especially looked forward to his meals. Those were the times of the day when someone who had really caught his attention would visit him. Most people at Alexandria snubbed their nose at him. Mocked him or just plain out ignored him. But Y/N, she never did that. In fact, she always initiated a conversation with him. Listened to him. She empathized with him when everyone else just saw a monster.
See the thing is, Negan without meaning to had developed feelings for this woman. With her kindness and her gentle touch, Negan found himself in awe of her. She was beautiful, sweet, charming…everything that was far too good for him, but he couldn’t help having feelings for her. Of course he never told her because he knew that if he did, nothing would come from it. No one would want to be with him. Not when the whole town would shame her if they found out. Getting lost in his thoughts, Negan let out a long sigh. At this point in his life Negan knew he was too far gone for someone else to love.
This morning when it was breakfast time, someone else had showed up with his food which was extremely disappointing. Especially since she was the thing that made his morning for him. Getting information from the Alexandrian that came in this morning was hard, but he was promised that she would be back for lunch. Truthfully? It worried him when she didn’t show up because she had been the one doing it consistently over the last few months. So just knowing that she was okay? That’s all that mattered to him. The only problem was, with her not showing up on time for lunch it just made him worry more.
Forcing himself to start reading again, he knew that if he let his mind linger, he would just start feeling bad for himself again. It was painful enough being locked up here inside of Alexandria. The last thing he needed was his own mind beating the shit out of itself.
“There she is,” Negan’s voice rumbled when the sound of someone’s footsteps pulled him away from the book following the sound of a door closing. Excitement flooded his veins when Y/N finally made it into the room that held his cell. When their eyes connected, Negan set the book down beside him and offered her up a big, cheesy toothy smile that made her smirk. “I didn’t think you were coming. I was worried about you.”
“You? Worried about me?” she spoke up, her eyebrow arching in curiosity when she made her way toward his cell. “Why would you worry about a gal like me?”
“Why wouldn’t I worry about a gal like you?” Negan replied noticing the way that her cheeks flushed over with his comment back. Unlike the others, Y/N would actually unlock his cell and take the time to come in to talk to him during his meal which was something he really liked. Loneliness had eaten away at Negan for so long that Y/N had helped heal some of that for him. “You’re the best part of my day.”
Getting into his cell, Y/N brought Negan’s serving tray in with her and closed the door behind her. Holding out the tray, she waited for Negan to accept it before carefully lowering down in beside him so they could sit together, “I’m one of the most boring people here Negan.”
“Not for me you aren’t,” Negan hushed her, his thick eyebrow arching in amusement when she got comfortable in beside him. Noticing that she was wearing a V-neck shirt, it made a wolfish smile press in over his handsome features and he snorted. “Did you wear that for me?”
“I wore it because it’s balls hot outside Negan,” she swatted at his shoulder, getting more comfortable with her back pressed against the wall. “I’m sweating like a pig. I’m sure that’s very appealing to you.”
“You have no idea,” Negan rumbled grabbing the sandwich from his plate and groaning outwardly. “Sandwiches. My favorite.”
“Beggars can’t be choosers,” she nudged him playfully with her elbow hearing him snort before taking a big bite of the egg sandwich that she had brought him. “At least I try to give you variety with your sandwiches.”
“True,” Negan agreed with a mouthful holding his sandwich out for her to take a bite. With a huff, she took a bite making him smile before taking a few more big bites on his own. “You know you like sharing lunch with me.”
“Sometimes I think you make me eat your lunch so you know that I’m not poisoning you,” she watched him finish off the sandwich. Placing her hand over his knee, she caressed over it tenderly making Negan swallow down hard. “I’m just glad you’re eating now. You scared the hell out of me when you weren’t eating.”
“You’re what made me start eating,” Negan whispered poking at one of the sides she had brought him with his meal. It made her turn her head toward him and he cleared his throat. “When you cried about me starving myself to death…I never wanted to see you cry again.”
“I looked that bad, huh?” she hesitated hearing Negan snort before rolling his eyes. “I didn’t mean to cry. I just didn’t want the person I was taking care of to die under my watch.”
“Oh, so you didn’t just care about me or anything?” Negan teased her, setting the tray out in front of them after he finished his lunch. Pouring some of the water she had brought for him out into his hands, Negan splashed some of it onto his face and grumbled. “It’s fucking hot. Between being baked and not being able to come, I think y’all are trying to kill me here.”
“What?” she blurt out, an amused laughter falling from her lungs when he bobbed his head about. “You’re not able to come?”
“Not at all,” Negan alerted her with a frown making her roll her eyes. “Do you know how hard it is to wake up every day with an erection and not be able to do anything about it? I don’t know if it’s because of the environment or what…”
“You’re full of shit,” she chuckled seeing Negan shake his head.
“I wish I was. You can ask the father, more times than I care to admit he has come down here seeing me try to beat one out, but I can’t…” Negan snickered making her cover her eyes and drop her head back against the wall while they both laughed. “I know I’ve had to make him uncomfortable.”
“You’re unbelievable,” she smacked at the center of Negan’s chest making a deep rumble of laughter fall from his throat. “So that’s why I see him going into the church praying so hard? You just burned that image into his soul for life.”
“I think of it as a gift, but it is what it is,” Negan shrugged noticing the way that she looked him over and his nose wrinkled. “What?”
“Sometimes I think you bullshit me to show off,” she explained sliding in closer to Negan making him turn his upper half toward her. Shaking his head, Negan’s dimples sank in and he let out a tsking sound. “See, now…you’re making me jealous that Gabriel has seen you naked.”
“Jealous?” Negan repeated her words with a smirk. “If you want to see my cock Y/N, all you have to do is ask. I’m kind of head over heels for you if you haven’t noticed. So all you have to do is say jump and I’d ask how high.”
“Bullshit,” she breathed out again making Negan’s expression turn very serious. With his eyes gazing over her lips, it made her heart skip a beat and she felt hot at the way he was looking at her. “You’re just charming and flirty.”
“I am those things, but I don’t lie to you,” Negan assured her pressing in closer to her so that their faces were close enough to one another. The warmth of his breath lingered over her lips making a shuddering sound escape her. “I’ve never lied to you. And I never will.”
Faintly his lips skimmed over hers, just barely touching them. It was bold of him to try this because he knew that he might upset her and she would never come back, but he had to let her know how he felt about her. When she didn’t push him away, he brought their lips together and he claimed her mouth in a kiss that was delicate. Taking his time, he allowed her to get used to the sensation of him kissing her before he deepened the kiss. Curling his finger in underneath her chin, he managed to get her to tip her head back. The movement had her lips parting allowing him to brush his tongue over hers in a tempting, teasing flick. With the sound that followed, he felt a fire flooding his veins when he tried to deepen the kiss. Wincing, he felt her hand placing firmly over the center of his chest and he frowned. “Sorry.”
“Place your hands on the floor,” she instructed him making his hazel eyes narrow, his jaw flexing when he didn’t get why she was telling him to do it. “Flat on the ground.”
“I don’t understand,” Negan panted, his heart hammering inside of his chest when she ordered him to put his hands at his side. Licking at his lips, Negan could see that her eyes were dilated with lust so he didn’t think he did anything wrong. “Y/N?”
“Hands flat out on the ground beside you,” she ordered and instead of fighting her, Negan did what she told him to do. There was a slow, uneasy motion in the way he did it, but when his palms flattened out over the ground, she moved in closer to him. Swallowing down, Negan watched her hands reaching out toward his pants to start undoing his belt making a sharp breath escape his lips. “Good boy. We’ll see if we can make you come.”
There were so many things he wanted to say. So many wise crack remarks, but with her fingers swiftly pulling apart the belt in his pants, he found his heart hammering in his chest. It had his body shaking. His lips were parted, the sound of his heavy breaths filling the air around them. With ease she unhooked his belt, tugging it out before reaching for the button in his pants to yank it apart.
“You don’t have to do this,” Negan groaned when she jerked at the material of his pants. Arching his hips up toward her in order for her to be able to do what she wanted when she pulled down the zipper. Licking at his lips, Negan saw that there was determination in her eyes when she pushed the material apart and reached inside to snake her hand between the slit of his boxer briefs in search of his semi-erect form. Pulling Negan’s cock out into her hand had him moaning out. “Y/N.”
“Don’t move,” she demanded when her fingers wrapped around the shaft of his cock, starting to pump his flesh in her grasp. Negan’s head tipped back against the hard wall making her smile. It was taking everything inside of Negan for him not to respond to what she was doing right now. Sliding in closer to Negan, she leaned in to press wet kisses over the side of his neck and heard him growl when she did it. “This is a one time thing. You understand that, right?”
Nodding once, Negan moaned out when she bit at the side of his neck. Licking his lips, Negan wanted to bounce his hips up toward her caress, but he knew that she was specific in telling him what she wanted him to do. Sheathing him in her grasp she took her time to pay attention to Negan’s reaction to every touch. Peppering her kisses up over his jawline, her lips met Negan’s feeling his tense against the kiss making her laugh.
“Relax,” she encouraged making his body loosen up when he eagerly kissed her with everything he had inside of him. In no time she had managed to get him solid within her grasps. Pulling from the kiss, she stared down at Negan’s erection finding her mouth watering at the way he ached in her grasp. The veins were prominent going up the shaft and she took the chance to trace over them making Negan’s hips arch up toward her touch. “You have a nice cock.”
“I know,” Negan noted making her roll her eyes. Stroking her thumb across the ridge of the swollen tip, she couldn’t help but enjoy having her way with Negan like this. “If you think it’s nice like that, you should see how nice it is inside of you.”
“Bold,” she slid in closer to him, leaning in to kiss over his bottom lip. A deep, raspy moan escaped his parted lips when her fingers curled around his girth again working her touch over his distended flesh. “When did you have a bath last?”
“This morning,” Negan responded finding it hard to keep his palms flat on the ground. At this point she had a steady, firm pace that she was jerking him off and his body felt like it was on fire. It had been so long since someone had touched him like this. “Why?”
“Because I want to make sure that what I’m putting in my mouth is clean,” she answered against his lips, unhurriedly lowering herself down making a sharp exhale fall from his throat. Outstretching her tongue, she dragged it over the tip collecting the taste of him with a hum. Lazily taking her time to circle her tongue around the ridges of the tip of his swollen cock had him moaning out. “You have to be quiet.”
“Yes ma’am,” he obeyed her when she lifted her eyes up to give him a firm glare with her hand stroking over his tip. Already he was exceedingly sensitive with her touch so it felt fucking amazing having her doing that. Biting into his bottom lip, he gave her a nod of approval making her smirk. Dropping her head back down, she placed wet kisses over the tip with her tongue dragging out over the flesh in unhurried flicks. It took everything inside of him not to make a noise. Considering she was the first person to touch him in years, he thought he was doing a pretty good fucking job. “Fuck, Y/N.”
“Mmmm…” she hummed taking just the tip between her parted lips making his hips flex, pushing them up a bit toward the wet warmth.
She was teasing him with the drags of her tongue around his tip, down over the length of his shaft and back again. Shaking on his unsteady hands, Negan felt a fire burning through his veins and he couldn’t avoid the faint raspy moan that escaped him when her mouth finally took him in. Bobbing her head down and pulling back lazily while dragging her tongue along his erection had him tensing up beneath her. Keeping his eyes on her movements, Negan wondered if he had fallen asleep and this was something that his mind had conjured up. Having her stroking his shaft in circular motions with her palm with his cock in her mouth was something he could have only dreamt of before. Yet here she was doing what she could to get him to come.
“Please, can I touch you?” Negan begged knowing that she had ordered him to keep his hands on the ground. With a wet sound, Y/N pulled her lips from his glistening length. A line of saliva trailed from her lips to the tip of his cock and it made him moan. Licking her lips, her eyes surveyed him over and she could see the desperation in his big hazel eyes. “Please.”
“Just one,” she allowed with a nod of her head wrapping her other hand around his shaft to pump his girthy length in her grasp. Raising his right hand, Negan stroked his fingers through her hair before his thumb caressed in over her jawline. With her eyes connected on Negan’s, she leaned down enough to take the bulbous head back between her wet lips making him moan out. Every movement over his body, she had her eyes locked on him to see what it did to him making him realize she was a whole lot naughtier than she acted.
“God,” Negan fell forward when she took him as far back into her throat as she could. Palming in over her shoulders, he caressed over her body noticing that she deep throated him a few more times. Panting, Negan looked up toward the window to make sure that no one was noticing the two of them. Right now would have been one of those times where he wished that window didn’t exist. Sinking his fingers into her hair, Negan gave it a gentle tug getting her to pull away from his aching manhood with a smile. “I’m not coming. I think you’re going to have to try harder.”
“Oh?” she marveled her eyebrow arching in curiosity. “Well, if I try harder. You’re going to have to make me come too. I can’t put in the work and not be paid back Negan.”
“Yes ma’am,” Negan pulled her up to him stealing a kiss from her full, wet lips. Suckling at her bottom lip, Negan palmed in over her sides making her purr against his lips. “Get on your knees.”
“Now you’re giving orders?” she quipped, smiling against his lips when he nodded his head. “I don’t know how I feel about that.”
“You can control the ending,” Negan insisted with a rumble, his handsome smile tugging at his lips. “You’ll be thankful. I promise you.”
“I better be,” she retorted getting up to her knees making Negan’s eyes gaze over her. Snickering, he got on his knees and reached out for his pillow. Putting it on the hard ground before his cot, Negan grabbed a hold of her and made her face the cot. Bending her over the cot had her breathing heavily as he made sure that her knees were resting on the pillow. Grabbing the back of her pants, Negan tugged on the material getting it down over her bottom and to her thighs along with her panties. “Negan?”
“Shh…” Negan hushed her palming up over the small of her back pushing the material of her shirt up. Teasing his rough fingertips down her spine had her arching her back up while she braced herself on his cot. “You are so fucking gorgeous.”
Tipping forward he pressed faint kisses over the center of her back while his hands found their way to her hips. Caressing over the flesh with small squeezes had her cooing and it made him wonder what things were like for her outside these walls. Was she with someone out in Alexandria? Was this her first time in a long time too? Grunting, Negan forced her to put her head further down against the cot and pulled her ass up further. Leaning back on his knees, Negan caressed at her full bottom testing the flesh in his grasp.
“You have such a pretty ass baby,” Negan proclaimed lowering down to nip at her flesh making her gasp, but it was followed by an amused sound. Pushing her cheeks apart, Negan moaned at the sight of her before him. “Now that is a beautiful sight.”
Mewling out, her eyes slammed shut when Negan buried his head between her thighs, his tongue lapping at the length of her wet heat. Grasping the sheet that was over his cot and curling it up in her fingers, she was doing everything she could to stay quiet. It was a strange feeling with Negan’s short beard rubbing up against her flesh while he pleasured her, but she liked it. Between the strong flicks of his tongue and the sucking at her flesh, he had her purring and panting with every touch. What made everything even more sensual for her was the way that Negan was moaning against her pussy while he ate her out.
“Negan,” she cried out his name knowing that she would damn herself if someone outside heard her, but she couldn’t keep herself quiet. With how hard her heart was pounding inside of her chest, she didn’t know if she could keep this up. Slurping, wet sounds filled that small cell while Negan had his way with her. He was wild with reckless abandon as he pleasured her like it was the first meal he had in years. Gasping, she felt him pulling away from her to squeeze over her bottom giving it a small spank followed by another squeeze. It had her wiggling her hips back wanting his mouth back over her. A deep rumble of a chuckle followed, but he gave her what she wanted. Dragging his tongue from top down, repeating the motion of his tongue flicking over the length of her sex. “Please…please…”
“Please what?” Negan slurred against her body, sucking at her sensitive flesh feeling her buck back against him.
“Fuck me,” she begged of him feeling everything inside of her aching. Excitement fell from Negan’s throat with him pressing one final wet kiss over her core. Getting up on his knees, he moved in behind her and firmly brought her hips where he wanted them. Looking back over her shoulder at Negan, she watched him reaching for the gray shirt that he was wearing to pull it from his body. Pushing his pants down to the bottom of his waist, Negan curled his long fingers around the base of his cock and teased a line with the tip of his cock between her wet folds. It made her bounce her hips back and a wicked smile flooded his features. “For fuck’s sake, please…”
“Please what?” Negan snorted, tracing his cock up and down several times over her. It was torture and he wasn’t giving her what she truly wanted. Tapping his hard cock against her bottom felt heavy with the smack it gave against her flesh.
“Fuck me now or I will never come back down here to see you again,” she warned with a hiss making Negan frown, his expressive eyebrows adding to his pout.
“Well that’s mean,” he huffed leading the swollen tip of his cock to her entrance. Pushing forward, he slid into her with ease with how wet he had already gotten her making both of them moan in unison. Dropping her head into the sheets, she tried to silence her moan with the way he filled her with his thick length. Pulling back his hips and then pushing forward had her bouncing forward with him filling her to the brim. Each thrust he made got more confident and harder with his hands leading her hips back against him. The smacking sound of their flesh filled the tiny cell while Negan pounded into her. Watching the way his cock filled her made him happier than ever seeing that her arousal was coating his cock. “Fuck…”
Surrounded by the tight walls of her body, Negan found himself lost in the moment while bucking up against her bottom. Her gasps were repetitive with his movements from being stretched by his girthy cock. Digging his fingers into her flesh, Negan wondered if it would be enough to leave marks because he was so desperate to feel all of this.
“Your cock is so big,” she whined biting down on her bottom lip, gazing back over her shoulder at Negan who seemed proud to hear that comment. “Goddamn Negan.”
“You’re not going to want this just to be a one time thing,” Negan rumbled sliding his palms up her sides. Adjusting his body, he leaned over her, hooking his fingers with hers keeping them closer together while he slowed down his tempo. Rolling his hips, Negan took his time making her breathless with every move he made. Kissing over the side of her neck and over her jawline, Negan could tell the change in position had affected her greatly because her cries were more desperate. “Not with how good this feels.”
“Please,” she pleaded with him, squeezing her fingers around his harder trying to bounce back into his movements. “I’m begging you.”
“You’re gonna come?” Negan growled making her nod and desperately kiss him looking to have that connection with him. With his cock rubbing up against her g-spot with every roll of his hips, there was just enough pressure that it was driving her wild with desire. Abandoning inhibitions, all they both focused on was the pure blissful pleasure that they were feeling. Sucking at her bottom lip, Negan hissed and brushed his tongue out at the wet flesh making her whimper. “Come on baby…”
Squeezing her eyes shut, she arched her hips further up toward his loving the sounds it made with his cock plunging into her tight canal with every thrust he made inside of her. Once her thighs started to shake, it seemed like Negan caught onto it with him starting to thrust faster. Letting go of one of her hands, he curled his fingers firmly around her mouth to keep her silent when she cried out into his hand. What sounded like a squeal vibrated against his flesh when Negan was forced to pull his hips back when a hot liquid rush flooded from her and down her thighs. A wet sound filled the air along with the awe that came from Negan when he just had her hit an orgasm that had her a shaking, trembling mess on his cot. Before she could even register what he had just done to her, he was back inside of her pumping away after she came, but everything was so sensitive that she was mewling out. Everything felt like it was spinning and she desperately reached back to try to grab a hold of his hips to get him to move faster. Eagerness flooded her wanting to have that friction again. It was an addictive feeling and she wanted more of it.
Desperately clinging to his other hand had him chuckling in his amusement, “You just made me come. Hard.”
“You don’t say,” Negan mocked, nibbling at her earlobe. “You’re not used to squirting, are you?”
“Get up,” she pulled her hips away from him, surprising him when his cock slid from her warmth. Shakily standing up on her legs, she felt like they were Jell-O. Barely being able to stand on them, she knew if she didn’t get him where she wanted, she would undoubtedly fall. Pointing toward the cot had Negan immediately getting up to scramble to the cot. Sitting at the center of it, Negan braced his back against the wall while she worked her pants completely off along with her shoes. With a smirk, she saw that Negan’s pants were bunched up at his ankles. This was a sight in itself. Negan naked, stroking his engorged cock while he stared up at her. It was a sight to be seen. One she would likely never forget. Crawling in over Negan, she hooked her left arm around his shoulders and reached with her right to lead his throbbing cock back to her entrance. Once she lowered down over his length, it had Negan growling out, his brow line creasing. “Goddamn.”
“Oh, it feels so good, doesn’t it?” Negan grumbled, his eyes desperate to take in her reaction to him getting her to squirt. “I’m jealous. I haven’t had an orgasm yet.”
“You’re going to. I never fail,” she smacked lightly at the side of Negan’s face making him chuckle when she braced herself over his knee with her right hand. Supporting her over him, Negan’s arms wrapped around her while she started to bounce her body over his manhood. Everything tingled and ached, but fuck she wasn’t going to give up until Negan came. “Fuck.”
“You love that big cock, don’t you?” Negan mused his eyebrows bouncing up when he leaned in to kiss her with all the passion that he could build up. “You’re welcome to come down here anytime you’re looking to have an orgasm. My mouth and cock are yours and very willing. Now that I know you’re a squirter, I’m more determined than ever.”
“I bet,” she started quickening her movements over him making the small cot squeak with the movements they were making. “We might break your cot.”
“I don’t care,” Negan panted, his head dropping to watch his cock slipping in and out of her wet core. “I’ll live if it breaks. Just don’t stop…”
Sharp breaths fell from both of them. They were both left aching for more while their movements got harder and rougher. Burying his head against the side of her neck, Negan grasped her hips tightly holding them in place when he started to smack his slender hips up underneath her plunging his lengthy cock inside of her repeatedly. Digging her nails into the center of his chest, she braced onto him with everything that she had knowing that he was trying to make her come again.
“Negan, fucking…” she wailed pulling her hips up and away from him once he managed to get another one out of her. Smacking at his abdomen had him laughing while she tried to brace herself over his body. An immense pressure filled her head, her eyes fuzzing over forcing her to close them to break that feeling of passing out. Being quiet after experiencing what she just had twice was so incredibly hard. “You’re going to fucking kill me.”
“From what?” Negan chuckled, kissing up over the side of her neck while she tremored over him. Negan’s cock twitched with anticipation, eager for a release itself with how dark red the tip looked. “Coming too much?”
“Dehydration,” she responded making Negan burst out in laughter, curling his arm around her waist to bring her back to him. Laying down, he gave her full range to do what she wanted when she braced her hands over his chest again. Taking things easy, she knew that she was so damn sensitive already. Dropping her head back, she could hear the wind from outside and wondered if someone had heard them in here. Even if they did, she didn’t care. This was the best experience she had gotten in years and she was going to get as much out of it as she could. With a wince, Negan lifted his head watching her ride him and the vein at the side of his neck started to bulge with his abdomen sinking in. “There we go…”
“Almost,” Negan’s fingers squeezed over her bottom helping to aid her movements over his pulsating length. Roaring out, Negan felt his climax rippling throughout him with his cum spurting out from the tip. With every downward thrust, Negan watched his arousal with hers covering his aching cock until he pumped her full of his release making her fall over onto his chest. The cot made a hell of a sound that made them both lift their heads half expecting it to break, but when it didn’t it made Negan drop his head back and laugh out. “That was…”
“Incredible,” she finished for him, stroking her fingers through the wet hair covering his chest. “I’m going to be feeling that for days.”
“You don’t want seconds for dinner?” Negan looked down at her, his hazel eyes hooking with hers making her smile. “Trust me, I have a whole lot more cum to give and fill you with. After years of nothing, these suckers are ready to give back…”
“You are so immature,” she watched Negan reach down to drag his fingers over his testicles. A groan fell from his throat when she hit him at the center of his chest. “I’m sorry about your pillow…and your bed.”
“Don’t apologize for that,” Negan placed a kiss over her forehead, his chest rising and falling rapidly while he tried to calm down. “I’m actually fucking proud of that. So never apologize. I wear the dampness with honor. Not only are you the first to make me come in a long time, but you’re also the woman I find myself having feelings for.”
“You…” she lifted her head up to see the nervousness in his eyes. “You what?”
“I love you,” Negan was quiet in the way that he delivered it, unsure of how she would respond. “And not just because I made you squirt and you made me come. Because I love you. You’re the one thing that I look forward to every day. And I’m sorry if that ruins this whole thing for you because I really fucking love you, but with the way shit is these days you never fucking know if something is going to happen so you should really get that…”
“Negan,” she covered his lips after he started to ramble off in a worried panic. Smirking, she shook her head and smiled. Lowering her head down, she rest it in over his chest to get comfortable.
At this point he didn’t know if she felt the same way, but with her cuddling into him, he didn’t take that as a bad sign. Nor was he going to turn her down. Wrapping her up in his arms, Negan knew that at any time someone could come down here and see them together, but he didn’t care. This was fucking perfect and he was going to cherish it for as long as he could.
----
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notiddygxthgf · 1 month
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1. Arrival in Tokyo
★ pairings: aki hayakawa x fem reader
★ ❝ Captain? Should I be calling you sir? ❞ ❝ Only if you want to. ❞
★ c.w.: aki being sexy a f (more content warnings and tags)
★ a/n: CHAPTER ONE IS UP AND RUNNINGGGGGG!! im so excited bc ive been sitting on this fanfic all fking summer like when i tell u i havent been able to focus on anything else. i have not known peace. ANYWAY im trying smth new w this story bc it was supposed to be a oneshot but uh... now its at 150 pages on google docs so erm... anyway! updates should flow quixker now that i have 90% of it written!! comment and let me know all of ur thoughts everywhere omg i love reading ur remarks bc u guys r so funny on my other ffs. ENJOY POOKIES! i love yall!!
★ w.c.; 4.3k
shameless ; chapter index
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"SO YOU'RE LEAVING ME because the Tokyo division needs backup?" 
"I'm not leaving you," You sighed, though a playful lilt and a smirk followed your sarcastic remark. You and your husband were discussing work-related matters over a sushi dinner – your favorite. Perks of being married to your work partner. "I'm being summoned. I won't be long. Promise."
Your husband frowned, brows knitting together. His brown hair was tied back into a bun, baby hairs licking at his forehead, his cheeks. Tanimoto Yoshiro was a man of many virtues, but patience was not one of them. With a sigh, he began to toy with his salmon roll, prodding it with the end of his wooden chopsticks. "One whole week without that sexy ass of yours... What will I do?"
Your left eye twitched – slightly, hardly noticeable by the naked eye. You, for one, wouldn't miss the sex. It was, for lack of a better word... unfulfilling. It would get better over the years, you were sure of it. The two of you had only had the last few years to practice, after all. You wanted to wait until marriage (With him. You were no virgin by any stretch of the word.).
It was unfair of you to take your sexual frustrations out on him. It had been a tiring week for the both of you, is all. You barely had time for sit down meals like this anymore – whatever hanky-panky the two of you ever did indulge in these days was rushed, messy, and often... short lived.
Anyway, needless to say... You would be fine. It was you and your rabbit toy against the world, anyway.
"You'll be fine," You smiled. You loved him. He loved you. He was a great husband, and he took care of you. You had no reason to complain. "I'll be back before you know it." .
The Japanese countryside was a blur, rushing past the window of your train like pictures, like a movie. You hadn't noticed the train slow to a stop, in fact, until you heard the doors open. Popping your head up over the seat, you observed the train station. Which stop is this? People began filtering in from both sides, eager to find a seat before the train took off.
A shrill cry of your name roused you from your thoughts. 
You whipped your head around. A familiar-looking woman with black hair and an eyepatch was waving you down across the aisle. She was wearing a Public Safety suit and slacks. Himeno.
A smile crawled over your lips before you knew it. "Himeno?" You asked, a teasing lilt in your tone. "Is that you?"
Without asking if anyone else was sitting there, she took a seat in the one across from you. She leaned forward, perching her chin up on her hand. "Never thought I'd see you again. How the hell are 'ya?"
You and Himeno went way back. She had been in the same division as you back when the two of you were teens. She was the first person in Public Safety who had ever actually welcomed you to the division and the last person to say goodbye to you. You parted ways before ever being able to exchange information but, for what it was worth, she had made those gruesome, tedious missions more bearable. 
"I've been good!" You grinned. "I've been in the Kyoto sector with my partner. I truly did plan on coming back, but one thing led to another, and now..." You trailed off, waving your hands around like you were trying to find the right words. "Well, I'm married to him."
The train creaked and groaned before it began to move again. 
"So I've heard," Himeno licked her lips. She sat back in her chair, producing a carton of cigarettes – the kind she always used to smoke when the two of you were on missions together. "You mind if I smoke?"
No, but the conductor might. "Of course not," You answered. "How about you? How have you been?"
She sighed. "Been better, honestly. Devil activity's been crazy recently," Fishing a lighter out of her suit pocket, she sparked up. The end of her cigarette sizzled and smoked between her slim fingers. Holding it up to her lips, she muttered, "Just doing what I can to stay alive. What brings you back to the city?"
"My presence has been requested by the higher-ups," You shrugged. The scent of nicotine and smoke filled the cabin. It was gross but, frankly, familiar. "My husband wasn't too happy that he didn't get invited, so this better be worth it."
"I see," Himeno hummed, breathing out a puff of smoke to the side. She kept on looking out of the window after that, at the train station that was now far behind the train. "You're leaving your partner and I'm returning to mine."
"You're married?" You asked.
"God, no," She chuckled softly, pulling another hit from her cancer stick. "Wouldn't mind being with my assigned partner, though. He's a fine piece of ass."
It seemed like you couldn't help the way you burst into laughter at her crude remark. She hasn't changed one bit. "Is he cute?"
"Cute?" She repeated the word like it was a foreign object in her mouth. Her voice was muffled by the cloud of smoke that flowed out from between her lips. "He's drop-dead gorgeous," She took another slow, calculated hit. "Enough about me, though, how's the married life going for you?"
Could be better. You feigned a warm smile at the mention of your husband. "Good. Yeah, it's good."
Good was a bit of an overstatement. .
You and Himeno spent the rest of the train ride catching up. There was talk about marriage, sex, old coworkers, and new ones. It felt kind of good to be back – to be able to talk to someone who shared the same history as you. You would almost say that you missed it.
By the time the announced its next stop at the Tokyo station, you hadn't even realized how quickly the trip had gone by. You could thank your talkative companion for that. As the train finally eased to a stop, you turned to Himeno with a smile. 
"I need to grab my bags," you said, rising from your seat and straightening your clothes.
Himeno nodded, her smile warm but tinged with a hint of sadness. "Okay. Take care of yourself!"
Navigating the narrow aisle, you headed toward the luggage compartment. As you reached up to grab your suitcase, you collided with someone. Startled, you looked up to find yourself face-to-face with a man who immediately captured your attention. He was tall, easily over six feet, with broad shoulders and a powerful build that spoke of both strength and discipline. His dark hair was tied back in a neat topknot, accentuating his sharp, angular features. But it was his eyes that held you—their piercing blue depths seemed to look straight through you, filled with a seriousness that made you catch your breath.
"Sorry—" he began, his voice a deep, resonant baritone that vibrated through the narrow space.
For a moment, the world seemed to narrow down to just the two of you. The closeness of his body, the scent of his cologne—clean and subtly spiced, lingering just faintly on the collar of his suit jacket—the intense focus of his gaze; all of it created a bubble of tension that neither of you could ignore. You could see the flicker of surprise in his eyes, a momentary lapse in his serious demeanor, as if he too had been caught off guard.
Both of you paused. His gaze flickered down to your uniform for just a heartbeat before he quickly looked away, regaining his composure. Without another word, you continued in opposite directions, the silent exchange leaving you... well, a little breathless to say the least.
Stop it. You're a married woman. Surely, you would know how to control your impulses after being away from your husband for only a day.
Reaching up, you pulled your suitcase from the overhead compartment, the weight of it a familiar comfort. Setting it down on the ground with a soft thud, you turned back to your seat, only to find the handsome man still standing there, now engaged in conversation with Himeno. He was so tall that he had to actually lean over a little bit to fit into the cabin.
Fuck me. You thought. Wait, no, don't fuck me.
"Is this your partner, Himeno?" you asked, raising an eyebrow in curiosity.
"Yes, I found him!" Himeno responded with a wide grin. "Captain Hayakawa, this is an old friend of mine," she said, going on to introduce you by name.
"Hello," he greeted, extending his hand. The deep, velvety timbre of his voice sent a shiver down your spine.
"Captain? Should I be calling you 'sir'?" you teased lightly, shaking his hand – and his grip was firm and warm.
"Only if you want to," he replied, "Hayakawa is fine."
Only if you want to.
Get your fucking head out of the gutter.
Your heart skipped a beat as you found yourself momentarily lost in his gaze. His eyes were a captivating shade of blue, intense and unwavering. The handshake lingered a moment too long. You could feel the strength and warmth of his hand – it was far larger than yours, and had calluses at the tip of the palm.
Despite his serious demeanor, there was a flicker of something in his eyes, a hint of interest that he seemed determined to keep under control. Reluctantly, you pulled your hand away, feeling the lingering warmth of his touch. 
His gaze remained locked on yours for a moment longer, a silent acknowledgment of whatever the fuck had just happened.
Himeno cleared her throat, breaking the spell. "Well, let me give you a big hug, dearest."
You embraced her fondly, the familiarity of her touch grounding you. 
"Here, give me your number," Himeno said as she pulled back. She flipped her phone open. "Let's keep in touch."
With a smile, you told her your phone number. 
She snapped her phone shut after she had finished typing it in. "Okay! Hopefully, I'll get to see you around."
"Yes, of course! We'll be in touch," You agreed. You bowed your head to her, then to her partner. "Hayakawa."
He nodded back. You dismissed yourself after that, turning on your heel and practically scrambling to get out of that tiny train cabin. Still, you couldn't help but glance back at Captain Hayakawa. His eyes met yours again for a brief, fleeting moment before you turned away, heart racing with something you hadn't felt in a long time.
You didn't want to stick around and find out what it was. The weight of your wedding ring around your finger was a reminder of that much. .
You hadn't been in Public Safety's Tokyo headquarters in years. It was bigger than you remembered it being. The worst part? All the halls looked the exact same. It took you about thirty minutes to find the office in which you were currently standing.
A woman who you'd been dreading seeing the whole way over there was perched on a leather seat in front of you, arms folded over the desk, pink hair braided the same way it always had been, feline eyes flitting over your body. It made you feel small – like prey trapped in a predator's den.
"How was your trip over here?" Makima asked. Her voice was smooth, uniform – calculated, just like everything else she did. 
"It was pleasant," You answered. "I came as soon as I could."
"We appreciate that," Makima said, a hint of something sinister in her smile.
She stepped out from behind her desk, pacing slowly around the room. "I called you here because we've recently suffered a great deal of casualties," she explained, her tone measured and controlled. "I'm worried we won't have the manpower to deal with all the sudden appearances of gun-devil pieces."
"I understand. Am I being formally stationed?" you replied, trying to maintain your composure.
"Not that I know of, no," she responded, her eyes narrowing slightly. "For now, we need backup on a particular mission involving a school in the area. There have been reports of peculiar activity there, and I want to send one of my teams to investigate. I haven't decided whether you'll be in the field or here tying up some loose ends—we recently lost one of our best workers, and we're very far behind as a result. I'll have a certain answer for you within the next few days."
"A few... days?"
"Yes, is that a problem?"
"No, not at all, no. I just—" you sighed, feeling the weight of uncertainty. "Yeah, okay, that sounds good."
"You've also been booked a hotel suite nearby. Your stay will be provided at no cost to you," she continued, her tone unwavering. "I'll reach out to you as soon as I have more details. Hang tight until then."
With a tight-lipped smile, you nodded. "Thank you, Miss Makima. Am I dismissed?"
"Yes, I'll have one of our drivers take you to your room so you can drop off your luggage," she said, her smile not reaching her eyes. "Where did you leave it?"
"I left it in the break room," you said.
"Very well. I'll have someone collect it," she replied, her eyes closing briefly as she smiled. "Get home safely."
With that, you turned and left the office, the tension of the encounter still lingering in the back of your mind. There was just something about that damn lady that never failed to send a shiver up your spine. You sighed, glancing down at the old floorboards, at your shoes.
The reality of the situation began to sink in. 
You had traveled all this way, navigating the maze of identical halls and sterile rooms, only to be told you had to wait. The thought gnawed at you— That sounds about right from her, you mused. It was typical of Makima, always keeping you in the dark, always one step ahead, holding the reins tightly.
The cool, clinical atmosphere of the headquarters only heightened your sense of displacement. The fluorescent lights overhead cast a harsh, unforgiving glow, making everything look stark and unwelcoming.
Lost in your thoughts, you heard a series of footsteps echoing down the hall, followed by hushed voices. The sound grew closer, and you recognized the voice immediately—it was the young lieutenant captain again, the man you had bumped into earlier.
You glanced up, and there he was, standing just a few feet away. He was a striking figure, his presence suffocating – commanding and enigmatic. He had a sharp jaw, chiseled and defined, the kind that could cut paper. His eyes, a moody blue, held a penetrating gaze, one that seemed to see right through you, making you feel as though you were laid completely bare before him.
His brow was knit slightly in deep thought. There was a slight furrow at the bridge of his nose. The tufts of inky black hair that framed his features only added to the boyish charm of his face. 
As he spoke to the other Public Safety worker beside him, his hands moved with purposeful grace.
Your eyes were drawn to him despite yourself, unable to escape the force of his presence. 
His gaze caught yours briefly, and in that fleeting moment, you felt an almost tangible tension in the air. It was as if time had stopped for a heartbeat, the corridor seeming to stretch and contract around the two of you.
The connection between your eyes was like a magnet, pulling you in despite your efforts to look away. The faintest flutter in your chest was enough to have you gripping the collar of your shirt.
He blinked first, his eyes breaking away from yours as he turned back to his companion. The conversation resumed, but the air seemed thicker now, charged with the residual energy of your brief encounter. 
"We need to re-evaluate our strategies for dealing with the increased devil activity," he said, his words carefully chosen. "The losses have been significant, and our resources are stretched thin."
You turned and walked in the opposite direction, the soft hum of the fluorescent lights overhead seeming to amplify the distance you were putting between yourself and him.
As you moved down the corridor, you couldn't shake the feeling that his eyes were still on you, as if the weight of his gaze lingered even after you had turned away.  .
You had just stepped out of the shower, the steam still clinging to the room and curling around the bathroom mirror in hazy swirls. The cool, clean air of the hotel suite met you as you emerged, a refreshing contrast to the stifling atmosphere of the Public Safety headquarters.
You took a moment to let the chill of the air sink into your skin, feeling the pleasant coolness against your damp hair and freshly washed face. You dried yourself off, the soft towel enveloping you in its warmth, and slipped into a comfortable set of loungewear—simple, dark gray sweatpants and a loose-fitting, white t-shirt.
You walked over to the full-sized bed, the crisp white sheets and plush pillows arranged neatly. You flopped down onto it, letting out a relieved sigh as you sank into the softness of the mattress.
Reaching for your phone from the nightstand, you dialed your husband's number. As the call connected, you propped yourself up on one elbow and stared at the ceiling, trying to shake off the exhaustion of the day.
When he answered, his voice was calmingly familiar, cutting through the distance between you with a comforting ease. "Hey. How's everything going?"
"It's been a day," you said with a soft chuckle. "I finally got here, but of course, they've got me waiting for more details. Typical."
"Sounds about right," he said, his voice tinged with a longing that you could almost touch through the phone, "I miss you."
You closed your eyes for a moment, trying to push away the brief flash of memories that drifted through your mind—blue eyes and raven hair, a fleeting image that made your heart skip a beat. An image of soft lips wrapped around the syllables, 'Only if you want to.'
You shook your head gently, trying to dispel the image from your thoughts. "I miss you too," you said, trying to keep your tone light and steady.
You heard the faint sound of his smile through the phone, a soft, reassuring sound. You had never been so happy to hear his voice. "How's the hotel?"
"It's nice," you said, shifting your position on the bed to get more comfortable. "Pretty standard, but it's got a good view of the city."
"I can think of one view I'd really like to see right now," he teased gently. 
Just as you were about to reply, your phone started ringing again. You glanced at the screen and saw the name of your old coworker. 
"Hold on, I'm getting a call," you said, your fingers hovering over the screen. 
"Ugh, okay," he said. "Bye."
"Bye," you replied, a smile tugging at your lips as you ended the call.
You took a deep breath before picking up. "Hello?"
"Heya, Hot stuff. What you up to?" Himeno drawled into the receiver.
"Just got out the shower," You answered. "Why? Is something up?"
"Nah. Well, yeah," She giggled. "Miss Makima's taking us out for drinks to celebrate the success of our last mission tomorrow. She rented out this whole space for us. You coming?"
You chuckled quietly, carding a hand through your damp hair. "I always feel dull at parties."
"You? Dull?" Came Himeno's retort. "This really the same person who used to take body shots off complete strangers back in the day?"
The mere mention of your past self had you laughing all over again. "Times change."
"Married life made you soft?" 
You winced. Sure, perhaps a somewhat-boring life in the countryside with your husband had made you a little soft. But there was something in the way she said it – something that made you tick. You were happy being a married woman. You had been happy since the two of you had eloped at 21.
You were happy, dammit. You just wished it was a little easier to convince yourself of that.
"I don't know..." You trailed off. "I won't be any fun."
"Noooooo... You have to come!" Himeno groaned. You could hear her pacing around in the background. "DENJI!" She called to god knows who. "Back me up here!"
The phone was handed over to someone else – a young-sounding boy. "I'm not gonna force someone to go to a stupid party."
"Tell her to come!" Could be heard very faintly in the background.
"Wait. She's a 'she'?"
"Not just any 'she', thats–"
"You should definitely come tonight," The boy decided. "Name's Denji, by the way."
"Hi, Denji," You sighed. "Could you hand the phone back to Himeno for just a moment?"
"Sure," He answered. "Bye, gorgeous. See you there."
Gorgeous. He hasn't even seen me and he's calling me gorgeous. You had to have been in the twilight zone.
"So, you're coming, right?" Himeno's voice chirped over the line.
"I don't know," You answered (again). "Who's going?"
"Aki's coming. Remember him? Partner? Total hottie?" She replied. 
Total hottie was an understatement. Again, the image of his pretty face flashed through your mind. You squashed the mere thought of it – like an incessant bug. "Yes, we met."
"I'm gonna get a smooch out of him by the end of the night," She giggled. "You can bet on that."
People came and went. Seasons changed. Himeno, however, did not. She was just as crude as you had always remembered her being.
"Just a kiss?" You teased.
"Maybe. Maybe more," She teased right back. "Can you believe he doesn't have a girlfriend? He's 20! That's gotta mean something."
He's five years younger than me... You picked mindlessly at your nails. "Something like...?"
"Dunno. Am I wrong for thinking he's holding out for me?" 
"Oh, to be young and naive again," You sighed. "I was engaged at his age," You trailed off, words hanging in the air for a moment after they had slipped past your lips.
Awkward. Did that slip out?
You leaned back against the headboard, feeling the cool pillows against your back while your mind drifted to the past. You had been so young when you'd gotten married, looking back. You loved him, you truly did. Sure, you had your issues, but didn't every married couple?
The two of you were happy. Still, a pang of jealousy surfaced when you heard Himeno speak so freely about her independence, her sexual prowess. In a way, you felt as though you had been deprived of that freedom far too early.
Your fingers traced the edge of your phone, your gaze drifting as memories flooded your mind. Himeno's laughter on the other end of the line seemed distant, a reminder of a simpler time, unburdened by the weight of responsibilities and commitments.
You were happy... weren't you?
"Hey, you still there?" Himeno's voice pulled you back to the present, her tone tinged with concern.
"Yeah, sorry," you replied, shaking off the melancholy that had crept into your thoughts. "Just got lost in my head for a moment."
"Don't we all," she sighed, her voice softening. "Look, just come down tomorrow. It'll be fun. We can catch up, have a few drinks, and maybe you can even be my wingman for the night."
You chuckled, the sound more genuine this time. "Alright, fine. I'll come. But no promises about playing matchmaker."
"Yay! It's at five," Himeno's excitement was palpable, and it was contagious. "I'll see you then. Hopefully, you can loosen up a little bit. Relive the good days."
"Yeah, maybe," you said, a small, half-assed smile playing on your lips. "See you then."
You ended the call and set your phone to the side. 
Loosen up a little, You thought. Yeah, you could definitely stand to do that.
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a/n: shortie but a goodie! i already have most of the story written (so this one doesnt wind up like my 25,000 other unfinished projects), and this was the only way i could think to cut this chapter off hehe. ANYWAYYYY i hope yall enjoyed and are prepared for the TENSION AND SPICEEEE. omg its so tasty i cant wait. stay tuned! its gonna be so amazing. please comment and whatever to let me know your thoughts, wants and desires for this story! or just smth fun. i love reading yalls comments hehe comments + reblogs are greatly appreciated!!
credits: UNKOWN ATM. I found it on pinterest unfortch. If you know the artist, please let me know, so I can credit them properly for their work!!! This is NOT MY BEAUTIFUL DRAWINGGG. I obviously do not own csm or anything related to it. please do not reproduce, copy, or translate my works anywhere. dont fk w me im a bruja.
also: come find me on my wattpad if u wanna interact more!
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atinylittlepain · 1 year
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Glory Days
no outbreak!joel miller x fem!reader
Hungry Hearts masterlist
warnings | 18+ a little smut, the angst starts to angst again
wordcount | 6.4K
a/n | howdy, folks. the time has come, the angst is upon us, but only a pinch of it in this chapter. that being said, the next few chapters are going to be a little shorter, a little more crisp in that way. as always, i'd love to hear what you think, thank you for reading this one.
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gif by @perotovar
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Growing up, she always liked going over to the Miller’s house. Always somebody coming and going, always warm, welcoming, always open arms and plates of that ritz cracker brittle Deedee always seemed to be making. The last time, she was maybe ten, and she can’t remember if there was any real reason for her visit. She thinks it was in the summertime, dropping her bike in the grass of their front lawn and ringing the doorbell to see if Joel wanted to play. But it’s a faint memory, and she’s a bit distracted right now, driving to the Miller’s house in the passenger seat of Joel’s truck, worrying at his hand that she’s stolen into her lap. 
He has a good relationship with his parents. She knows that. She’s seen that. So it’s not that she’s nervous to have dinner with them, the only people that know what she and Joel have been getting up to this summer, because that’s how close he is with them. It’s guilt, a small prickle of it, because what they don’t know is that she has asked him to leave, and that they have been planning for it these entire last two weeks. 
She brought up that concern with him a few days ago, asking him if he wasn’t worried about leaving his family. Joel had responded with all the nonchalance of someone who has never had to give much thought to his relationship with his family. Something about leaving a note for them, and calling them once they got up north, no big deal. Right, sure. But she knows that if she questions it anymore, if she keeps trying to find all the frayed edges of this plan they have tried to stitch together, that small scared flicker in her chest will build and burst into something bigger, something like backing out. And she’s not about to do that. 
There will be no note for her family, no call home either, and it will be a long time before she even thinks about stepping foot in the south again. And while all of that feels easy for her, a relief, perfect and clean and clear, she thinks that it’s a much bigger ask of Joel, even as he seems hell bent on convincing her that it’s not. Though having dinner with the whole Miller clan seems a bit counter-intuitive to her in proving that point.
“Hey, Cherry! Blink twice if he’s holding you against your will!”
“Tommy, shut the fuck up!” 
“Joey Miller, I better not have heard what I think I just heard!”
“No, ma, sorry, ma.” Still her Joey, she can’t help the laugh that slips out as she follows Joel inside, a quick blur of kisses on the cheek and Tommy slapping her on the back and Hank and Deedee both welcoming her, shepherding her with smiles and small talk to the dinner table, Joel sitting down beside her. She prickles at first when he slides his arm around the back of her chair, hand coming to rest idly over her shoulder, but then she remembers that his family already knows about them, no need to keep it a secret. At least not that part. 
“So Joey said you’re studying English, but that’s about all I got out of him so I want to hear all about it, honey.” She has always liked Deedee. Always with care to spare, she remembers one time, maybe eight years old, sitting on the step to the Miller’s front porch in tears from a bee sting, and Deedee sitting alongside her, holding her arm so gentle and quick pinch, honey to get the stinger out before pressing a bandaid and a kiss over the wound. 
“Oh, I don’t know if there’s much to tell. But I’m really enjoying it, yeah.” 
“Well that’s what matters, kid, I’m sure you’re making your parents real proud up in Chicago.” She nods along to Hank’s words, though a sick swirl rises up in her gut, making it hard to swallow the bite of pork chop she just took. 
“So, Cher, how did Joel finally get you to agree to go out with him? He tell you he has cancer or something?” That earns Tommy a swift kick to the shin from Joel, sending the whole table rocking, though Deedee is quick to quiet her boys with a very grave you two better not start at the table.
“Nice, Tom, very funny. I take it the freshly graduated lifestyle is suiting you well?” Tommy grins at her, nodding enthusiastically as Deedee rolls her eyes. According to Will, he had pulled quite the stunt at high school graduation, collecting his diploma and promptly tearing open his gown to reveal that he was only in a pair of briefs with the American flag emblazoned on them before darting off the stage like a bat out of hell. 
“It sure is, got my whole life ahead of me and all that.” Joel lets out a poorly contained snort into his water glass, Tommy’s eyes immediately settling into a glare on him.
“Something funny, brother?” 
“Nope, not a thing, Captain America.” He can barely get the words out before dissolving into laughter, Deedee scolding him with a pointed Joey, drop it, as Tommy pushes back from the table with a huff. 
“At least I’m thinking about my future. That’s more than you can say, Mad Max.”
“That is enough.” Deedee always gets the final word, both Joel and Tommy hanging their heads and muttering out a respective sorry, Ma. 
The rest of dinner is polite enough, though Joel seems to be sulking quietly beside her for most of it, Tommy too. The last light of the day is just starting to slip away into something hazy and purple when they step out onto the porch, more kisses on cheeks and tupperware getting shoved into Joel’s hands with an exasperated you’re skin and bones these days, Joey, from Deedee and honestly, she feels like her head is spinning by the time they get in his truck to go back to his apartment. That guilt has gotten bigger. All that ease and warmth even amidst the brothers’ squabbling, and she’s asking him to leave it. 
“I am thinking about the future.” His voice startles her out of the slow spiral in her mind, glancing over, his eyes staying on the road, face awash in dipping and bending shadows. 
“What?” 
“What Tommy said– that’s not true, Cher. I am thinking about the future.” His knuckles are tensing and releasing over and over again over the wheel, and she’s already reaching out to take one of his hands in hers, smoothing out his palm against hers. 
“I know you are, Joel.” 
“I may not have a degree or-or some kind of well to-do job–”
“You know that doesn’t matter to me.” 
“I know, Cherry, I know it doesn’t. But I’m telling you that I am thinking about the future. And while I don’t know much, what I do know is that it’s you and me.” It’s so earnest that it sends a hot prickle up her throat and behind her eyes. She draws his hand up to her lips, pressing a kiss into each knuckle, Joel glancing sideways at her, a smile finally crooking the side of his mouth.
“I know, baby. You and me.”
“Oh my land, it’s not every day we get a celebrity around here!”
“Ma, don’t.”
“Hush, Joey. Oh, honey, it is so, so good to see you.” 
“Hi, Mrs. Miller, thank you so much for inviting us today. It’s really great to see you too.” 
Joel has already decided that this was a bad idea, watching his mother pull Cherry into a crushing hug before she introduces her to Ellie, who is then also pulled into a crushing hug, her eyes going wide over Deedee’s shoulder as she gives her a big squeeze. No, definitely not a good idea to invite them to the Miller’s annual cookout, the whole brood of friends and family coming forward to fawn over Cherry and her kid as she shoots him a few errant and nervous glances in the fray. 
It had seemed like a good idea, really. Like a trying to make things more serious idea. Because things have been anything but. Truthfully, he’s been feeling like a teenager all over again with the way they’ve been sneaking around. And it’s safe to say that her new porch is taking longer to construct than he originally thought, because, well, he’s been getting a little distracted. 
There was the time they went to go look at materials for the porch at Home Depot. They didn’t even get in the store, Cherry ducking her head down into his lap while Joel held onto the ceiling handle in his truck for dear life. 
Then there was the time Ellie was at practice and he was supposed to be building the frame of the porch. Cherry came out offering to share her lunch with him. He helped her disinfect the kitchen counters after they were finished, his jeans still unzipped and her shirt hanging from the neck of the sink. 
And there have been plenty of times that he’s knocked on her office door around midday, and she has simply yanked him in by the sweaty collar of his t-shirt, both of them laying down on the floor right in front of her desk and frittering away a few hours with each other. 
And it’s been dizzyingly unreal, to get so much of her, but still not all of her. Still not all of her, because they still haven’t talked, the serious, needs to happen kind of talk, Cherry always flitting away before he can work the words out of his mouth. So he decided that inviting her to the cookout would be a step forward, maybe a chance to talk, or if nothing else, a chance to spend sane time together without immediately going for each other’s clothes. 
But now, sitting down at one of the picnic benches crammed with Millers at the park for lunch, with Sarah on one side of him, and Cherry on the other, and Ellie shooting him daggers from across the table while Tommy looks at him like he’s up to no good, Joel has concluded that this was actually one of his worst ideas, maybe ever. 
“So you and my dad grew up together?” Sarah asks it, leaning across Joel to direct it to Cherry, who smiles and nods.
“Mmhmm, we were neighbors up through high school.” 
“Aw, you’re selling us short, Cherry. I thought we were a little more than neighbors.” Tommy has a huge grin on his face as he says it, while Joel considers all the different ways he could smack that look clean off his face. 
“Yeah, yeah, Tom, I suppose we were friends for some of it.” 
“Why do you call my mom Cherry?” Joel can’t help but snort at the dejected way Ellie asks it, already gearing up the story in his mind.
“Your mom never tell you that story?” 
“Joel, don’t.” 
“Oh, c’mon, Cher. It’s a good story.” For once, it’s not Ellie who’s glaring at him, but Cherry, Tommy snickering from across the table.
“Yeah, mom, c’mon, I wanna hear it.” Cherry purses her lips for a moment, finally throwing her hands up as if to say fine, have at it. Joel feels a grin spreading across his face as he starts telling it to Ellie. 
“You ever had a cherry coke, kid?” 
“Yeah, why?”
“Well, back in the day, they didn’t sell cherry coke as its own thing. But our parents would make it by putting maraschino cherries, you know, the bright red kinds soaked in syrup?”
“Yeah, like on top of a sundae.”
“Exactly, so our parents would put those in the bottom of a bottle of coke and mash ‘em up a little bit and you’d get cherry coke.”
“Joel, she didn’t need to know that.”
“It’s a part of the story, Cher, let me finish.” She just scoffs, looking at Tommy who shakes his head at her. 
“So anyways, when the summer came around, there wasn’t anything better than a cherry coke in the afternoon. Me, your mom, and Tommy there would sit out on the porch in the afternoon, probably rotting our last baby teeth out of our heads with it.” 
“Okay?” Ellie says it long and drawn out like, yeah, get to the point, thanks. 
“Well, one day, we were, what, Cher? Maybe nine?”
“Uh-huh, that sounds right.” 
“So we’re sitting out there and well, I guess I said something really funny to make your mom laugh so hard that she snorted cherry coke out of her nose.” 
“Don’t act like you don’t remember what you said.” He can barely hold back his grin looking at Cherry’s completely exasperated face.
“I don’t know, Cher, it must have slipped my memory. Do you remember it?”
“Oh yeah, I remember it.” 
“Wait, what did he say, mom?” Ellie, who now seems riveted by this whole saga, looks at her mom with wide eyes, like this is the most dire information she needs to know. Sarah seems equally invested, leaning over Joel to look at Cherry.
“Alright, I’m gonna say to you what he said to me, okay?” Ellie nods, just a bit unbridled in her enthusiasm.
“Did you know that diarrhea is hereditary?” Ellie’s brow furrows, though she stays silent, waiting for the punchline. 
“It runs in your jeans.” Ellie stutters for a beat, and then she starts to laugh, looking between Joel and her mom. Sarah meanwhile lets out something between a groan and a snort, clapping her hand over her face with all the exasperation that Cherry seems to have too. 
Maybe not such a bad idea after all. 
“Read it to me.”
“Seriously? You want me to?” 
“Yeah, Cher, I’ve been wanting to hear something of yours all summer.” 
“You’re probably gonna think it’s stupid.” 
“I’ll hold my judgments until the end.”
“Oh, great.” 
“Kidding, but I do want you to read it to me.” 
She does, trying to tamp down the heat rising in her cheeks as she reads what she’s been working on to him. And she only feels a little ridiculous doing it, with the way she’s sitting with her back against his chest and his chin hooked over her shoulder so he can follow the words on the page of her notebook. Hot all over, even with the box fan blowing and the sheets kicked off the mattress and in nothing but one of his t-shirts and her panties. And that heat only gets worse when she finishes the story, not daring to look over her shoulder to catch his expression as she wordlessly closes her notebook in her lap. 
“Wow.”
“Wow?”
“That was really good, Cher.”
“You’re just saying that.”
“No, I’m not.”
“Yes, you are.”
“Cherry, goddamnit, just take the compliment.” 
“You really thought it was good?” She clamors around so that her knees are framing his hips and her hands are resting along his bare shoulders, squinting for any trace of untruth, of sugar coating, though she doesn’t think she finds any in his expression. 
“Yes, I did. Better than the shit they made us read in school by a mile.”
“Gee, thanks.” 
“I’m serious, I’d buy that story.”
“It’s too short to be bought, but that’s what I wanna do, you know? Write something– something a lot longer that could be bought.” 
“I know, Cher. And you will.”
“How can you just say that?”
“Because I know it.”
“But how?”
“I just do.” 
“You’re–”
“If you say that I’m just saying that I’m going to lose my goddamn mind, Cher.” She purses her lips at his exclamation, Joel quick to surge forward and smack a kiss to her mouth, his hands kneading up and down her thighs.
“Thank you for listening.” 
“Of course, Cher. I always wanna hear what you’re working on.” That gets him another kiss, one that Joel chases after, palm rucking up her shirt on its path up her spine to hold the nape of her neck, still and steady as he opens up her mouth with his tongue. She sighs into it, her hips already starting to shift and drag against his, laughing a little when he groans at the close press. 
“Did you just say all that so I would fuck you?” She punctuates her words with a kiss just below his jaw, nosing down the line of his neck, feeling the thrum of his laugh as she does.
“No, but I’m not gonna complain if you do that either.” His hands slip under the fabric of her panties to grip at her ass, encouraging her a little closer, a little harder into the throb of his cock in his boxers. 
No rush, no urgency, no real end goal in the way they curl around each other, a lazy allowance of hands and mouths. Push and pull and quiet huffs of frustration in getting his boxers shrugged down his hips just enough. And she doesn’t even try to shimmy out of her panties, just bunches the fabric to the side so she can sink down around him with a sigh that warbles into a moan. 
She stays still, her forehead pressed to his, the little puffs of his exhales fanning over her mouth. A kiss to the curve of his upper lip, just beneath his nose, one between his brows, smiling when she feels the scrunch smooth beneath her mouth. 
It’s all small movements, her hips twitching in his grasp, the muscles in his thighs jumping against the curve of her ass with each small jolt. More comfort than their usual crashing, mouths open and slanted against each other, a pleasure that is slow and unencumbered with any real concern for time. 
Eventually, when the night gets a little darker, a little deeper, they both become greedy with it, a little more desperate, a little more interested in an ending. She unravels with his mouth pressed to her sternum, a small prayer stamped into her skin.
“It’s you and me, Cher.” 
“Outfield, back it up for this one!” He can’t help himself, Cherry shooting him an annoyed look from where she’s squaring up at their makeshift home plate, what was the lid of a pizza box about an hour ago. The rest of the bases have been fashioned out of tupperware lids and even someone’s old sweatshirt, spread out in the tall grass of the park, everyone gathered and split into teams while the older folks watch from the picnic tables. 
He was only a little surprised when she happily volunteered to play in the thrown together game of baseball his family seems to get into every year, pulling out old mitts and bats from car trunks and riling each other up for a match, cousins, aunts, uncles, and now the young ones who aren’t so young any more as well. She’s never been one to back down from a little competition, and neither has he. 
The classic lineup, with a few additions to the crew. Tommy on first, a cousin on second, him on short stop, an aunt on third, and, most surprisingly, Ellie pitching. 
“Don’t go easy on your mom now, kid.” 
“Wouldn’t dream of it, old man.” 
“Hey.” Cherry calls out to the both of them, her hand on her hip and her bat dug into the grass. Ellie just shrugs at her mom before turning and shooting Joel another grin. He’s liking this kid more and more as the day goes on. 
One strike and a ball before Cherry hits a respectable arc right over second, landing herself on first before the ball can get thrown in to Tommy. And Sarah up to bat next. 
“C’mon, Sarah, send me home, babe!” Oh, so when he cheers her on he gets death glares and grumbles, but when Cherry does it, Sarah practically preens under the praise, her shoulders rolling back as she settles into stance at home plate. Right, okay. 
It catches him off guard when Sarah cracks it on the first pitch, sending the ball flying into the outfield, though it’s quick to get fielded and lobbed to him, just as Cherry is stepping off second to make a break for third. He’s going to enjoy this.
“Where you going, Cherry baby?” She grins, already shuffling back toward second, though Joel is quick to lob the ball to his cousin covering the base, stopping her dead in her tracks, a quick skitter and jumped jog. Back and forth a few times, both Joel and his cousin laughing as Cherry keeps changing tracks between each throw until finally, Joel has the ball and Cherry is panting, glaring at him in the no man’s land between second and third, crouched down a little in a stance that looks like she could bolt at any second. 
“You’re in quite the pickle, Cher. Watcha gonna do now?” It startles him, he certainly hadn’t been expecting her to start running straight toward him, but just as she gets within tagging distance, she darts so hard to the side that it kicks up grass, Joel spinning on his heel so he can take off after her before she gets to third. 
“No, no, no!” She shrieks it as he’s already hooking his arm around her waist, tugging her back and into his chest with enough force that they both end up tripping and stumbling into the grass, a tangle of limbs as Joel taps the baseball to the middle of her forehead with a satisfied huff. 
“Better luck next time, Cherry baby.” Cherry scoffs, shoving him back down into the grass by pressing her palms into his chest, leverage for her to stand up and brush the grass off the front of her shorts. Though she still holds her hand out to him to help him up, pursing her lips to hold back a smile as he grins at her. The strap of her tank top has fallen down the slope of her shoulder, and he doesn’t think twice about hooking his finger in it to tug it back into place, smoothing his palm along her shoulder and down her arm with a hum. 
“Whatever that just was, I’m pretty sure it was a foul.” The sound of Sarah’s voice shakes them both out of each other’s hold, turning to find the whole field watching their little display. 
“The only fouls in baseball are the ones that get hit behind the baseline, Sarah. Besides, I don’t think your dad and Cherry are playing any more.” Tommy seems quite pleased with his statement, both hands on his hips and a wink dropped rather cartoonishly in Cherry’s direction. She looks like she’s about to fire some quip back his way, but before she can, Cherry’s phone starts ringing in her back pocket, her face falling as she pulls it out to see who it is.
“Oh shi– shoot, y’all keep playing, I’m sorry, I’ve gotta take this.” Tommy lets out a despondent oh c’mon, Cher, but she’s already got her phone to her ear and her thumb and forefinger pinching the bridge of her nose as she stalks off toward the parking lot. Joel swipes the back of his hand under his nose before tossing the ball back to Ellie, just a bit sheepish under her pointed gaze, though everyone else is quick to get the game back up and going.
They finish one more inning, everyone getting worn out by the incessant sun and the drone of cicadas, huffing back to the picnic tables for drinks and shade. Phonecall finished, Cherry seems to be holding her own, talking to Deedee. And while Joel would like nothing more than to not have to join in, his mother is already ushering him over with an insistent Joey, come listen to this. 
“I was just telling her how I have every single one of her books on the shelf in the den, and that whenever we have guests over I always tell them that I knew her when.” Cherry laughs and smiles, though Joel is pretty sure he can detect a thin scream right behind her eyes, never one for compliments that way. 
“Aw, well, that’s really kind, Mrs. Miller. It makes me very happy to hear that you’ve read and enjoyed all of them. Apparently, that’s more than your son here can say.” It’s said in jest, but Joel can already feel a cold prickle settling along his scalp as his mother shoots him a quizzical look.
“Joey, that’s not–”
“Ma, I think Tommy just stuck his hand in that icebox cake you made.” That sets Deedee straight on the warpath, mercifully away from them and toward a confused looking Tommy who’s already bracing for whatever throttling he has somehow just incurred. Cherry just laughs, shaking her head before settling her focus back on Joel.
“So you still don’t play fair, huh, Miller?” 
“All’s fair in– well, however that saying goes.” 
“Looks like our kids are getting along though. I don’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.” Joel follows Cherry’s gaze over to the picnic table where Sarah and Ellie are sitting, casting sporadic glances at them before promptly laughing in a way that sounds just a bit too sinister for his taste. 
“Probably a bad thing.”
“Yeah, probably.” 
“Would y’all wanna come over for dinner? Leftovers probably, judging by how much potato salad ma made. But– I don’t know, get out the sun and all– could be nice?” He feels like an idiot asking it. Another idea that sounded good in his head and came out jumbled and a bit shy. And Cherry’s already starting to shake her head. 
“Oh, I mean, I don’t wanna intrude or–”
“Not intruding, Cher, really. It’s just me and Sarah, and I reckon Tommy’ll butt in for a little while. Give our girls a little more time to plot our demise, if nothing else.” She seems to be considering it, her eyes settled on Ellie and Sarah as she sways a little side to side, her hip cocked out and her bottom lip worrying between her teeth. 
“Alright.”
“Yeah?” She lets out a long sigh, a smile starting to spread.
“Anything to keep me away from my office. Would dinner and a movie be an option?” He tries not to smile too big at that, rubbing his palm along his scruff to temper his grin.
“I think we could figure something out, yeah.”
She’s been trying not to ask it all morning. In bed, with her chin resting on his shoulder blade and her palm skating up his side. Sitting at his table, drinking coffee and keeping her eyes on anything but him. Ducking over and under each other in his bathroom, stretching out time, the both of them, moving slow and careful like it might trick the clock into stopping just for a little while longer. 
But she isn’t going to ask it, because she has been asking it for the last two weeks, making sure, just checking, giving him ample opportunity to back out. And everytime, he has reassured her, with an admittedly increasing degree of exasperation. He is in, just as much as she is, so she doesn’t need to ask anymore. 
“So I’ll see you tomorrow morning?” 
“What’s that look you’re giving me?” 
“What look?”
“Cherry.” Said long and low, his hands on her hips steering her back until she’s pressed against the driver’s side door of her car, nowhere to look except into his face, eyes squinting at her and his chin tucked down. 
“What?”
“Don’t ask it.” 
“I wasn’t going to.” Her fingers find the first fastened snap of his coveralls, idly popping it back into and out of place, though Joel is quick to squeeze her hips and duck his head down to catch her gaze.
“Good, because you already know my answer.” She goes to speak, but it’s only that damn question again, skittering up her throat only to be stopped when she lets out a huff instead. Not much time to think about it though when Joel hooks his arm around her waist, her feet shuffling and stuttering a bit with the way he ushers her around the side of the shop to the front, his hands settling on her shoulders to push and pull her until she’s standing facing the front office. 
“You see that front door, Cher?” 
“Yes, Joel, I have eyes.”
“Don’t be smart about it, just look at it.” 
“Okay?” His hands slip down along her arms, his chin settling over her shoulder, crooking to look at her sideways.
“Tomorrow morning, nine sharp, just like you said, your highness–” That earns him an elbow into his ribs, a small oof and a laugh before he quickly recovers. 
“As I was saying, nine sharp, I’m gonna be standing in front of that door, waiting for you to pull up in that shitty little station wagon of yours.” She can’t help the smile starting to spread, especially not when he punctuates his words with a kiss to the arc of her cheek. 
“And then?” 
“And then we’re gonna get the fuck out of here, Cherry.” 
“I’m, uh, gonna use the restroom.” 
“Sure, Joel.” He chooses not to respond to Tommy’s quip, getting up from the couch to a chorus of oooohs spurred on by the girls who have only gotten more chummy since Cherry and Ellie came over for dinner, now settled on the couch in front of some movie he wasn’t really paying attention to. 
First, that was because by some grace, or maybe some curse, he had ended up at one end of the couch with Cherry pressed close against his side from the way everyone else had squeezed into their seats, the feeling of her thigh pressed against his nearly burning a hole through his jeans. But then he had been distracted after Cherry’s phone started ringing, and she sheepishly asked him if there was somewhere she could take the call. Without much thought to it, he offered up his slapdash office upstairs, more of a catch-all room, really. But Cherry was already quietly thanking him and shuffling up the stairs with her phone pressed to her ear. 
It’s been thirty minutes. He knows. He’s been watching the clock and the stairs instead of the movie. By the time it’s been forty minutes, he has convinced himself it’s a good idea to check on her, just a little caught off guard when he finds her in the upstairs hallway, squinting at the photos hanging along the wall. 
“You alright?” He almost didn’t say it at all, not wanting to disturb her quiet concentration. Cherry startles slightly at his words, eyes wide like she’s been caught red-handed.
“Sorry, I got a little nosey I guess. But you look good in a tiara.” He steps closer to see what photo she’s pointing to, laughing to himself when he does. It’s Sarah, her smile all lit up from the glow of the candles in her birthday cake, Joel crouched down beside her with his arm slung around her chair. 
“That was Sarah’s fifth birthday party. If you think that’s good, you should’ve seen Tommy.”
“Oh yeah?” 
“Sarah wanted Rapunzel to come to her party. She got Tommy in a dress and a wig so long he kept tripping over it.” 
“I bet she loved that.”
“She was mortified.” Quiet smiles, and the thought that now, now would be a good time to talk, though he still can’t seem to figure out the right words to string together. 
“I like watching you with her.” He laughs at that, though Cherry shakes her head, her hand coming to his shoulder.
“I’m serious, it’s– you’re at your best for her, you know? It’s nice to see.” A close, quick heat starts creeping up his throat at her words, the careful squeeze she lays to his shoulder. He swallows it down before he speaks. 
“I could say the same watching you and Ellie.” Somehow the wrong thing to say, her face falling and her hand dropping from his shoulder back to her side. 
“You don’t have to say that.”
“I mean it, Cher. I never thought that I’d– getting to see you– it’s–” It’s coming out all wrong, is what it is, stopping himself with a sigh before he can mess up the words any more. 
“She’s everything to me, and I know you know what that feels like. She’s it. And I feel like I’m messing it up, missing it.” At some point, their words have turned into rasped whispers, stepping closer to each other to catch the sound. Instinct, impulse, an inkling of want to reach out, his hand moving along the line of her jaw, coaxing eyes.
“You do your best, Cherry. It’s all any of us do. And that kid is smart enough to know that.” It’s never going to get old, the feeling of her nose grazing the line of his, the ghost curve of her smile over his, so close he can feel the quick fan of her lashes when they drop to the tops of her cheeks. 
“Thank you, Joel.” They should keep talking, he knows that. The perfect opportunity to finally pull the chain of the past into the present, to make this right and real. But, always a but with her. But, he’s already tipping her jaw open in the cup of his palm, this movement so much easier than talking, she accepts his mouth with a sigh. Push, pull, hands slipping under hems as he guides them in a close stumble to his bedroom. And yes, Tommy and the girls downstairs are probably snickering to themselves about how long they've both been gone, but they can be quick, quiet. Want overriding any shame. 
How quickly he has taken for granted the fact that if he dips his palms up and along her ribs, she will simply lift her arms so he can peel her shirt all the way off, silent call and response leaving her bare from the waist up as he ducks his head to lay a kiss over her sternum. Her arms drape along his shoulders, head tilted back on her neck, stretched long to give him more room to mouth along every tendon, smiling against the jumping muscles when she hums at the feeling. Still walking them back toward his bed, not getting very far before she freezes in his grasp, palm pushing against his shoulder to get more space between them.
“What is it? What’s wrong?” She’s not looking at him, but at something over his shoulder, brow furrowed and a small frown parting her lips.
“Is that?” Already slipping out of his hold, brushing right past him before he can realize just how badly he fucked up. He wasn’t thinking when he started stumbling the both of them toward his bedroom. Wasn’t thinking about the fact that they still need to talk. Wasn’t thinking about the ribbing they were going to get from Tommy and girls when they go back downstairs. And no, he wasn’t thinking about the bookshelf in his room. Mostly filled with things other than books, more photos and detritus of the past. But, well. Always a but. 
“Cher, I–”
“You have every single one, Joel.” She hovers her hand over the spines like she’s afraid to touch them, fingers ghosting over her name, her real name on each of the books. 
“I– yeah, I do.” She doesn’t look at him, just swipes her shirt from the floor to tug it back on. His stomach sinks and sickens when he hears the quiet sniff and sees the small shake in her shoulders, her face still turned toward the book shelf. 
“You read them?” No use in giving her anything but the truth now, though all he wants is to reach out for her and somehow make this whole thing not real. He doesn’t know why he even lied in the first place. Maybe that it’d be easier for him to not admit to himself that he’d been waiting for two decades, grasping at scraps where he could get them. 
“Probably read them all three times through, Cher.” Finally, she looks at him, and she’s mad, he knows that look, not the first time he’s gotten that look from her. That broken, jagged look. 
“I don’t understand. Why– why did you tell me that you didn’t? Why lie about that?” 
“I don’t know– I, really, I don’t. I thought it’d be better, easier if you didn’t–” She scoffs, eyes everywhere except on him, and he braces for impact.
“Well, you always were so concerned about making things easier for me, Joel. Always had a funny way of doing it too. But I’m glad to know this is still some kind of game to you, really.” 
“And it isn’t a game to you? What do you call what we’ve been doing, Cherry? Sneaking around like– like it’s fucking eighty-six all over again and–” She’s up in his face now, always able to dish it out as good, if not better, than he could, eyes narrowed and her finger digging into his chest. 
“This is nothing like eighty-six. You wanna know why?”
“Why?”
“Because I’m not gonna stick around long enough for you to make another promise you can’t keep.” A snarl and a scoff when he doesn’t respond, his mind going blank as she turns on her heel and hurries down the stairs. 
He follows behind her in a dumb stupor, Tommy shooting him a questioning look as Cherry tells Ellie that it’s time to go in a quick, clipped voice, tight and high in her throat like she’s trying to hold something back. She murmurs a polite thanks to Tommy and Sarah both, not sparing Joel another glance as she ushers her kid out the door before slipping out herself. Gone just like that.
“Brother, what the fuck did you do?” 
“Shut up, Tommy.”
..........................................
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oceansssblue · 4 months
Note
hi hello!!! i love your stories, and I’ve been getting back into bad batch and i’d love to request a piece of your writing!! could i have an AFAB reader x hunter please? reader is their professional field medic and certified mechanic, who was an old competitive dancer all throughout school, academy days, and training. one day, she’s cleaning up in the ship and finds a stowaway holopad and holodisk that’s full of readers performances from years past of every single one of their dance performances. as reader watches through the numerous amounts of performances, omega and the others see and asks to watch all of her performances with the reader. later on, when reader is asleep, omega brings up the topic of the reader being a dancer to the others and hunter, and nudges him in the direction of learning one of her favorite dances for the upcoming summer festivals in Pabu.
and then cue hunter struggling how to learn the iconic dance and lift from Dirty Dancing.
reader finds out, because crosshair mentioned in passing to fluster the reader about their not-so-secret crush on their sergeant. reader plans to make their move and catch hunter during practice—and gets him at the right time. hunter reluctantly agrees to do the dance with her, but insists it’s nowhere near as good as her recorded performances. as they run through the dance, the reader goes for the jump and hunter successfully lifts them in the air—which leans to reader being so excited they kiss hunter as a thank you. confessions ensue, and the whole squad saw it.
sorry if it’s a lot—i just like to be detailed,,can’t wait to see what you come up with!!!!
Hi! I'm glad u liked my stories, ty! Bruh, I laughed SO MUCH imagining serious fierce determined Hunter doing the dirty dance lmao. But your wish is my command, so here you go love!
Xx,
Sky.
"A JUMP OF FAITH"
HUNTER/F READER 📩💖
WARNINGS: noneee, this is pure dancing&kisses&fluff.
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
There isn't a period of your life you can remember without losing yourself in a dance. You have blurred memories of yourself stumbling on your own steps with no more than four years old, trying to follow the way your parents happily danced with each other in the kitchen, love and peace almost breathable in the air of your small home. You remember how you grinned, wide-eyed, when they first took you to your first ever dance class; how excited you always were when school finished and they drived you there in the afternoons. You danced throughout school, medical care academy, and the years you spent getting a degree in engineering and mechanics. Hell, you even danced through your combat training period with the GAR; finding strength and comfort in well-learnt rutines, moves and steps you could pull elegantly and effortlesly even with your eyes closed, letting the music and muscle memory guide you. Those little moments allowed you to carry on.
When you find your old holodisks while cleaning and tidying up the Marauder –thank the Maker these guys have you, if not they could be covered in their own dirt by now– an involuntary nostalgic smile spreads through your face. Your parents made sure to record every single one of your performances, every competition year after year after year; gifting them all to you in a heartfelt goodbye when you announced you were going to travel to Coruscant and volunteer for the GAR four years ago.
You're half way through your records when Omega joins you sitting down on the corridor floor; curiously peering down onto your cracked datapad.
"What are you watching?" She asks, then gasps when she recognices your figure in the video. "That's you! I knew you danced, but not like that!"
You chuckle and turn the screen towards her. Omega's eyes don't leave the datapad; nor your body moving almost ethereally through the recording.
"Yeah, I did competitions and everything, before the war" you tell her with a small smile. "Mum and dad went to every single one".
"Wow" Omega grins up at you, tilting her head. "What's your favourite?"
"My favorite dance?" You hum thoughtfully. Then, tap away in your datapad, finding the right recording. "Probably this one. It's a style called dirty dancing. It's fun and carefree, while also sensual and pasionate".
Omega stares at the way your old self smirks to the male dancer in the video. You let her watch the whole dance; her eyes growing wider with the final iconic jump.
"I miss having a dance partner" you laugh, watching with a fond smile your old friend hiking you up on his hands. "There's only so many moves you can practice on your own... I loved trying those challenging ones".
Omega hums, lost in her own thoughts.
"Can I keep this? For a few days?" She asks, hopeful. "I'd like to watch a few more".
You shrug in acceptance; then caress her shoulder affectionately.
"You can keep them for the whole month if you want. As long as you take care of them and give them back..."
Omega gives you a radiant smile.
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
Two nights after that, when you're asleep on Tech's bunk –the goggled clone piloting the Marauder back to safety–, Hunter catches Omega wide awake in the middle of the night, eyes glued to a datapad he doesn't recognise as one of Tech's, and a almost concentrated expresion on her face.
"What are you watching, kid?" He asks her, gently, staring up at her small makeshift bedroom they managed to arrange for her.
Omega blinks and pauses the video. Her innocent face fills with childish excitement.
"Star's old dancing performances! Did you know she went to competitions and everything?" she gushes, whispering confidentionally.
Hunter smiles silently.
"I didn't know that, no. So she let you watch her recordings, then?"
Hunter is very curious, he can't deny that. He's dying to have a look through that datapad.
Omega nods and quickly finds the specific video on the datapad files.
"Yeah, she even showed me her favourite once. It's called dirty dancing. Here, you can watch yourself!"
Omega all but pushes the datapad into Hunter's hands, and he has no other option –nor he wants to– to stare at your recording, your figure dancing flawlessly through the screen. He has a fond tiny smile on his face without even realising it.
"Why don't you learn that dance and surprise her for the upcoming festival in Pabu, Hunter?" She suggests, whispering excitedly.
Hunter swallows nervously.
"I... Don't think I'll be able to pull that, kid".
"I disagree" Tech's voice suddenly cuts in the conversation at his back, and Hunter turns around expectantly towards him. The Marauder must be set in automatic course now. "We're naturally agile and have trained our coordination skills for years; I believe learning a dance such as this once is only a matter of effort and practice. At least to cover a minimum and do a decent job; not achieving a profesional level, that is".
Hunter hesitates. He feels like he'll look ridiculous trying this. But oh, to see that expresion on your face...
Omega grins.
"Come on, Hunter! There's a whole month left and Tech and I can give you tips and help you learn the rutine. She mentioned the other day just how much she missed having a dancing partner. It'll make her so happy!"
Hunter sighs, negative crumbling down with their insistence. Who would have told him that a soldier like him would have to learn how to dance, huh?
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
Crosshair's new favorite hobby is watching Hunter struggling to learn Star's dance. It's ridiculous, really; how the firm, fierce, determined sargeant turns to a nervous uncoordinated mess as soon as the music starts playing on Tech's datapad. He has made some considerable progress in the last two weeks, sure; but Hunter has a long way to go still. Crosshair is also delighted to watch the frustration on his goggled brother's face and needs to swallow his laugh when Tech joins in on the dance too; trying to teach Hunter the moves. The fact that Tech can apparently dance more or less right without proper training doesn't surprise him. Tech knows how to analyse visuals to perfection, pay attention to the details; and replicate fairly well. But Tech's not the dance partner their resident female has really in mind, huh?
Hopefully his brother would be able to properly learn the rutine for Pabu's festival in another two weeks time. Though Crosshair thinks it would be hilarious to watch him embarass himself in front of all Pabu's cheerful model citizens, he knows he wouldn't be able to look at Star in the eyes for days; and he hasn't got the patience to cope with such akwardness without snapping at the both of them.
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
"Hey, Omega, did you finish watching those old vids?" You ask her almost a whole month after you lend her your datapad. "I was thinking on getting the pieces I need to fix it next time we make a pit stop to refuel".
Her eyes widens, and she smiles almost nervously.
"Uh, no... No, I haven't" she looks up at you guiltily. "Can I keep it for a week more?"
It's sweet she likes your recorded performances so much –and a bit strange, honestly–, so you nod in acceptance. Instead of smiling and staying with you to chat a bit longer though –like she would usually do–, Omega quickly dissapears under the excuse of having promised Wrecker a game of dejarik –periodically glancing backwards at you– in a way that feels too much like running away.
You frown completely confused. Crosshair stops in the corridor besides you, leaning lazily against the wall and watching Omega's hurried retreat as well. You tilt your head, pensive.
"Any idea what was that all about?" You ask hopefully.
Crosshair hums uncomitedly and stays quiet for a few seconds; perhaps pondering if he should give you an answer or not.
"They have this little show going on where Tech and Omega try to teach Hunter that dance you like so much". He finally confesses.
Your eyes fly towards him, stunned.
Crosshair shrugs.
"They wanted to surprise you in Pabu's festival" he pats your shoulder almost mockingly. "Seems you're crush on your sergeant is not that unrequited".
Crosshair almost swaggers out of sight; and though a small part of you feels embarassed for him noticing your feelings and irritated for ruining the surprise, it can't compare to how warm and loved you suddenly feel by the secret revealed. Hunter's learning dirty dancing for you. Hunter. For you.
The knowledge of such an important person to you, the man that holds your heart between his fingers, doing such a thoughtful gesture for you, pushing in hours of his time, is enough to make you melt. You can't help but smile for the rest of your day.
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
The Marauder is stationed in the middle of Aksiis forest, the Batch unanumously deciding to make one last pit stop here for the night before continuing your trip to Pabu. It has been a long two-months, and all of you are feeling a bit desperate to return to safety, to Pabu's peaceful coast line and it's wonderfully kind people; everyone will be even happier than usual with the summer festival finally taking place.
You walk to the cockpit after walking up from your small nap, and Crosshair's the only one there. You arch an eyebrow in a silent question and he makes an equally silent gesture with his head to the outsides of the ship; a desinterested expresion on his face. You nod and walk down the ramp. You swear you could completely communicate without words for days with Crosshair.
You hear music playing low, and you hesitate for just a second. Then you find your resolve again and approach them with a fond smile on your face. This is all very sweet, it really is; but you don't want this moment with Hunter happening for the first time in the middle of a crowded loud festival, all of your feelings being shared temptatively for the first time for all to gossip and stare. A nice, quiet night with just your newfound family sounds perfect instead.
Hunter is so engrossed with his rutine he doesn't even hear you arrive; only Omega widening her eyes and quickly pointing it out.
"S-star!" she stutters, surprised. "Uh, Hunter... Hunter, we got company".
Tech presses pause, and Hunter turns sharply towards you, eyes widening too at the shock of being caught. Wrecker's eyes flicker from one to the other in a very obvious, caught red-handed nervous expresion.
You chuckle and cross your arms in front of you.
"So this is where you all dissapear to, huh?"
Tech quickly furrows his brow, connecting the dots.
"Please, do not act as if Crosshair hasn't told you a word of this. For such a talent in dancing, your acting definitevely needs some work on top of that mediocre skill".
"Tech" Hunter calls him, firmly, voice low, and the goggled clone readjusts his lenses before standing up and clearing his throat.
"Apologies if I somehow offended you" he quickly offers, then makes a hand sign to Wrecker and Omega. "We will give you some space now".
The three of them walk away –Tech completely undisturbed by the whole act and the other two following him after showing you a guilty puppy smile–. "Space" appearently means sitting down on the Marauder's ramp, where your's and Hunter's figures are still very much visible. You ignore them and give Hunter a fond smile.
"So you've been learning how to dirty dance?" you ask, trying to control the eagerness inside.
Hunter actually blushes; the unusual sight surprises you, and you have to restrain yourself not to coo and cuddle up to him. He's got no right to be sexy and adorable at the same time. It isn't fair.
"Yeah" he plays with his bandana, tugging it down a tad nervously. "I'm afraid I'm still not very good, though".
You smile encourangingly.
"I doubt it. Plus, it always feels weird to practice on your own, less natural if it's a two person dance like this one. Want us to try together?"
Hunter had picture this going different in his mind. On Pabu, with a beautiful sunset; but you're beautiful enough for everything. And you're so excited... He can read it easily on your posture and eyes.
He sighs and offers a small smile.
"Alright. Tech?" He turns and calls to him, louder. "Mind playing the track one more time?"
Omega claps excitedly, Wrecker whistling cheerfully, and you take your position besides Hunter; shooting him a grin and watching him with the corner of your eye.
The music starts playing slowly. You smile to Hunter invitingly, aware that this dance is going to take much more physical contact than what you're both used to. He grabs your waist, hand then sliding up to your upper back, while you gently grab his bicep. When Hunter helps you make the initial tiny dip back, and pulls you back to him afterwards, your heart stutters and a radiant smile shows on your face. This is a dream come true for you.
You turn around shyly, standing in front of his body now, and softly drag your left hand downwards through his hair and neck while he caresses your hip gently. Your eyes lock, your body almost reclined on his; warmth spreads inside of you, the kind of feeling that's a mix between fondness, embarassment and delight bubbling inside of you. Hunter's hand finds yours; and then, just when the music changes the slow beat to something more quick and fun, he makes you spin away from him with a quick push, before tugging you back towards him and your body quickly steps into a well learnt rutine with your new dance partner.
You're both very focused on each move at first. It takes a bit of adjustment; you're not used to dancing with each other, Hunter is still learning, and it's being a while since you practiced this. It would be kind of pathetic to stumble –being a profesional– while Hunter nailed his steps perfectly. Soon, though, your matching grins widen; and you whole heartedly trust each other with every spin and twist, each success making your feet move faster and more self-assured until you're both flying over your secluded spot on Aksiis forest, lost in each other's eyes and the music.
It's exhilarating. It took you years of practicing together for you and your past dance partner to reach this level of complicity, of understanding; but it's easy with Hunter, the conection and syncronization almost natural, and you wonder if it's all a result of your mutual –now clear– feelings.
Hunter takes his spot on the solo part of his dance and you watch him with a grin, a chuckle escaping your lips. He shoots one back at you. He probably feels a bit self-conscious and a bit ridiculous, the soldier that he is; but he sees the delight and amusement in your eyes, the affection, hears your beating heart, and he'll do this and more to see that smile lighting up your face one more time.
He gives you a tiny nod to show that he's ready and you run towards him, jumping just an inch away from where he's waiting for you and trusting your body to him wholeheartedly. He doesn't let you down. Hunter catches you perfectly, quickly pushing your weight up over his head with two firm hands on either side of your pelvic; holding you steady as if you weight nothing for him. Hands spread to the sides and legs elegantly straight, eight foots away from the floor, you feel like you're flying; and the carefree, purely unadulerated happiness bubbles out of you in the form of laughter.
You're still laughing when Hunter carefully brings you back down to earth, both of your bodies sliding slowly against the other, pressed up together while your eyes lock once again. He's smiling as well, enjoying the sincere happiness etched on your face; love and fondness clear in his chocolate eyes. You kiss him; you can't help yourself.
Hunter smiles into your lips and tightens his hands on your hips affectionately. He'd learn a thousend more dances if this is his reward.
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
"Crosshair, what are you doing?" Tech asks when he catches his twin with a datapad on his hands, holding it in the direction of Hunter and Star.
The sniper snorts quietly.
"I thought it was obvious" he drawls in his caracteristic low voice. "I'm recording".
Omega smiles.
"Aw, Crosshair, that's sweet! I'm sure Star would love to have this dance filmed as well" the girl agrees.
Tech hums, watching the couple dance completely in sync. He did a good job teaching him.
"Very considerate, yes" he acepts.
Crosshair huffs.
"Not really. I'm just making sure they feel in debt with me" he replies, still filming, and not caring if his words stay recorded forever. "They won't be able to throw shit at me for weeks".
Tech shakes his head, and Omega and Wrecker both laugh in a mix of exasperation and fondness. Crosshair smirks.
They all inevitably hold their breath when Hunter catches Star and pushes her over his head; smiling unconciously.
"He did it!" Wrecker exclaims excitedly.
Tech smiles proudly.
"He only had to drop me four times to manage it".
Crosshair chuckles. He zooms in.
Hunter and Star kiss; both melting in each others arms like they're missing pieces of each other's puzzle. Omega coos fondly, Wrecker grins and punches the air in a sign of victory, while Tech clears his throat slightly uncomfortable with the display of affection. Crosshair rolls his eyes.
When the kiss turns more passionate and less innocent, their bodies pressing up together with more purpose now, Crosshair stops recording and tugs at Omega's hand, dragging his goggled twin with the other one. Wrecker laughs and tags along after them, getting inside of the Marauder again.
"Okay" Crosshair snorts. "Enough of watching mum and dad making out, let's call it a day".
THE END.
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
Taraa! I haven't watched dirty-dancing, actually, but I did watch the dance like three or four times for this so I hope i did it okay! Hope you like it :)
With this request we finish the second part of the requests masterlist (that's 20 requests y'all)! I will re-open a third part in the future, not to worry.
We're only two followers away from a 100!! I have something special prepared 👀 I really think (&hope) y'all like it!
Xx,
Sky.
Back go main masterlist here:
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sunkissedscribbles · 2 months
Text
Prejudiced - Chapter Four
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this is only a part of the series, the previous and next chapters can be found here
a/n: things are gonna get complicated soon haha
word count: 4676
tw: mention of sex, cursing i guess
summary: the events of the world cup haunt cass but it’s not easy for mattheo either.
<previous chapter next chapter>
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dividers by @chachachannah
Like every summer, Ki's parents invited me to stay with them three in Italy for two weeks. And in return, as every year, we took Ki with us to Greece with mom in the following two weeks.
It was, as always, fascinating; being at the sea again, wearing the clothes from my summer wardrobe — my favourite thing on earth, — speaking Greek with the family, taking long hikes, and of course, enjoying the lively nightlife of first Rimini and then Skiathos.
The summers with Ki were always full of fun — and adventures. She seeks adventure more at parties while I'm more into being outside, doing whatever; hiking, swimming, running, collecting rocks and seashells. So, I'm the one navigating during the day and she's the one to do it at night. But one thing we can agree on is living life slowly on some days, going on picnics with the food I made while she was the entertainment (screaming Shout at the Devil from the top of her lungs), painting by the ocean or in the woods and reading in each other's company (not even the same books, but we always share the big events from them).
So, coming back to London was rather depressing: leaving the 30 degrees we got used to over the previous four weeks and having to get used to the maximum 24, again.
And, honestly, I wanted nothing more than to go back which I would've done on a broom even, even if Zeus and Poseidon both had decided to foil my plan of flying over the ocean back to the peaceful life I've been living in the past month.
I would've done it because August 18th, was a disaster.
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I've never experienced such contrast before; one minute we are in our tent with Ki, cheering, in a chinwag about the World Cup, about which I had to explain most things during the match since Ki only came because of me, and now, I'm running frantically, shouting her name because I don't know where and when I've lost her. I only know that one second I was running, holding her hand, wand in my other hand, and now there's only my wand that I'm gripping.
The whole thing is a blur, a complete mess in my head as I'm trying to make sense out of everything. Seeing the crowd of those wizards, practically carrying a muggle family in the air overhead — not seeing any of the wizards' faces because they were wearing masks and hoods, just a minute ago has me worried. Where is she?
"Ki!" I shout, my throat already sore, my voice trembling. I don't get any response. "Kiara!" on the verge of crying, I don't even know what to do, in the fear of losing my best friend. In the fear of losing my sister.
I hold my wand out as I hear footsteps coming my way, ready to duel if needed.
"Draco?" I look at my cousin, completely gobsmacked and I lower my wand just a bit.
"Thought I'd see you with Potter," he retorts snarkily. He looks completely calm, not bothered by the situation and the chaos going around more than about me running around with Harry or not.
"Where are your parents?"
"None of your business," he barks back. I miss the times we were friends — when he was actually acting like we were family.
I get a flashback of the hooded and masked people marching through the campsite and I have a strong suspicion about where his parents — or at least his father — may be, getting the answer to my own question. "He's among them, isn't he? Lucius," I raise my wand back again, pointing at him.
"Regulus would be disappointed in you," he spits instead of answering, making my eyes widen in disbelief. That little prick.
"My father wasn't one of them!" I raise my voice. "He didn't torture people! He was nothing like our family and nothing like your father!"
Draco steps closer, talking in a way-too-calm voice, almost asking to be hexed.
"Then why did he die? He couldn't bear his duties, couldn't bear the trust he was given."
"You take that back! You take that back now," I raise my wand.
"Cass!" I hear Ki's voice from behind and she's only watching us for a moment as I'm waiting to get a reaction out of Draco. "Not again," she mutters under her breath before gripping my wrist and pulling me away from my cousin.
"Go on, run away like your cowardly dad!" He smugly spits after us and this is where I lose it; I free my wrist from Ki's grip and taking a step closer to Draco, not giving him any time to react more than making his self-satisfied smirk disappear from his lips, I punch him in the face, hearing the bone in his nose crack as his head tilts backward with a flash of his platinum-blonde hair.
"You filthy blood traitor!" He yells after me as Ki now pulls me away for real and Draco practically runs in the other direction.
"You are a mad woman, boyfriend material, almost," Ki says with a satisfied smirk and this is the point where relief washes over me as my mind gets clear just by hearing this very Kiara comment and I pull her closer, hugging her tightly.
"You are alright, are you? You got hurt?" I grip on her t-shirt as I hug her.
"I didn't," she reassures me, returning the gesture with just as much affection.
"MORSMORDRE!" I hear from the distance, pulling back from Ki, but not letting go of her hand.
We both turn in the direction of the voice, seeing a green flash of light in the sky light up the whole area of the camp, forming a skull with a serpent emerging from its mouth like a tongue.
"What... is that?" Ki's grip on my hand tightens and so does mine on hers.
"The Dark Mark," I reply with a shiver and a gulp. I've seen it countless times when reading about my family's past or the past of the Wizarding World in general.
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In the remaining ten days of summer break, I'm absolutely knackered. I can barely sleep, thinking about Draco's words and what happened at the World Cup. And when I try to sleep, the events haunt me as nightmares, feeling as if I was near dementors all the time; siphoning and squeezing all the happiness and hope out of my body, the experience adding up to me thinking about where Sirius might be all summer long. Harry, my only source of information on the topic, hasn't told me anything in his letters; maybe he hasn't heard of him either. But still, why do I care about him when I've never even met him? And why do I care when he clearly has no intention of changing this, after what I made out of Harry's words last schoolyear.
About what happened on that ominous night in August; it blew up the whole Wizarding community, causing everyone to freak out currently. Ki and I have come to the conclusion that something is up and stinks like a whole load of dung bombs.
On the first of September, after saying goodbye to mum we get on the train, looking for our friends. We find Mattheo, sitting alone in a compartment, only Enzo's bag is there next to his on the overhead luggage rack, but the boy's nowhere to be seen.
He doesn't notice us until I kick his right foot gently, smiling down at him, "Hiya."
He smiles back, his gaze wandering for a moment on me. Somehow, his smile got... brighter? That's not the right word. But it somehow changed a little bit. He gets up to give me a short hug, which gives me just enough time to notice he indeed got taller and how nice he still smells, "You're... different," he states.
"I got taller," I grin.
He pulls back a little, looking at me as if he could just tell how many centimeters I am exactly and he says, laughing: "Bollocks, you did not."
"No, I didn't," I shrug with a smile, plopping down into the seat opposite his to let him greet Ki as well.
And while he does that, my gaze lingers on him for a moment, admiring his dark curls, long lashes, and outfit choice, the same short-sleeve over long-sleeve thing but it's something I do a lot too and I love. And it suits him. But something is different about him; maybe he looks a bit more mature — not too much, really just slightly. But he's clearly got taller too, I felt it when he hugged me. It was... different.
Mattheo and Ki both sit down and I can't help but feel caught as he looks at me. I look up at the luggage rack, eyes setting on Enzo's bag.
"Where's the bloke?" Ki asks as she looks at it as well.
"Shagging," Mattheo shrugs casually, making me frown.
"Enzo, shagging someone?"
"Yeah," he nods.
That's something new. He wasn't the type to just go about his day and seduce girls in this mean. Sure, he's always been a bit of a flirt, but never has he taken it this far, and it has never been serious, the flirting I mean; when he likes someone he usually just stares and smiles awkwardly when caught. And like, he's just turned fifteen. Exactly a month ago. This is new and for some reason, frustrating. Never would've thought he'd be the type to do this so easily and nonchalantly.
"Piss off, he isn't," Ki shakes her head, gobsmacked.
"He is!"
"No, he's not! Sweet baby Enzo doesn't even dare looking at girls he likes because he's afraid of talking to them, the coward prick," Ki refuses to believe and I can't help but chuckle at her statement.
Mattheo shrugs with a hint of mischievousness, "He's changed. And he doesn't even know the girl."
Now this really is something new. Never seen him like the kinda guy to just... get someone to hook up with, to be frank.
Ki and I share a look, my surprise reflecting on her face as well.
Right on time, Enzo steps into the compartment, adjusting his belt.
"You disgusting little prick, what have you done to Enzo," Ki starts, not even greeting him, no, jumping right in the middle of scolding him. Though she's only joking about the scolding part, we both still are astonished.
"Hi to you too," he turns to Ki with a roll of his eyes, slightly frowning before looking at me with a small smile, "You look-"
"Different, yes," Ki cuts him off. "And stop looking at her like a piece of meat. Keep your hands away from her."
"Okay, enough," the boy shakes his head, Matt hiding how much he enjoys the scene in the seat next to him. "What's got into you, Kiara?"
"Piss off, I know about your business and you're not shooting your shot with her," she grabs my arm. I swear she's like a brother who tries to keep everyone away from me even when it's not necessary sometimes.
"Business?" he frowns.
"Shagging, Enzo!" she retorts with a grunt.
"I was at the loo!" he says, offended, also blushing. I look at Mattheo, who can barely keep in his laughter.
"But with who, hm?" Ki squints her eyes and I kick Matt's foot again. He tries to regain his control over his about-to-burst laughter and I see through him almost immediately.
"Alone!" Enzo frowns, annoyed, gesturing with his hands.
Mattheo can't hold it anymore, snickering can be heard from his direction. Ki and Enzo both turn to him.
"You twat," Enzo counters with an annoyed look on his face. "Did you really tell them I was with a girl? Or a guy?" his eyes widen.
"Fuck, you're right, that would've been funnier," Matt flashes a smug grin, earning a middle finger from Enzo.
"Ki," I say calmly with a small hiding in the corners of my mouth, my eyes already wrinkling from the expression, "I'm not in need of an arm amputation at the moment," I refer to her still gripping my elbow.
"Right, sorry," she lets go of it while the door slides to the side, Theo stepping into the small room, immediately whistling.
"What a beautiful sight!" he grins at Ki and I before plopping down next to Enzo. "Alle ragazze sono cresciute le tette." (The girls grew boobs.)
I frown, not understanding a word, looking at Ki, who suggestively smirks at the boy.
"What did he say?" I ask but she just shakes her head.
Theo flashes Ki a grin, talking somewhat seductively — or it's only the Italian accent. "I miei pantaloni stanno diventando sempre più stretti. Puoi finalmente aiutare?" (My pants are getting tighter and tighter. Can you finally help?)
To that, Ki's face flushes red and Mattheo opposite me frowns with a disgusted expression. "Bloody hell man, I didn't need to know that!"
Ki finally speaks up, not even looking away from Theo, "Right here and now?"
I'm waiting for a kind of explanation, looking both at Theo, Ki, and Mattheo but when no one says anything, I shift my gaze at Enzo who shakes his head with the same look in his eyes as I have in mine; being left out, being the only two who don't understand anything.
Theo then turns to me and says with a small, genuine smile "Sei più bella che mai."
I have, again, no idea what that meant, but I assume it wasn't as... risky as what he's said to Ki. But it sounds beautiful, especially because Theo said this one so gently, even with that thick Italian accent of his. "Translation?" I say finally.
"You are more beautiful than ever," Mattheo says, locking his gaze with mine, answering when Theo and Ki have only opened their mouths, yet to do so, and Enzo turns to him with a facial expression I'd call slightly frustrated. I can't help but smile, biting my lip as I'm met with those shiny brown eyes. He says it as if these were his own words, but that I just shove to the side.
Then I turn to Theo as I shake myself out of my thoughts, still blushing lightly. "You can't complain either," to that, he grins at me, then speaks up, "So, how was summer y'all?"
"Horrible! This bitch kept me outside all summer! Plus you don't want to know what it's like to get woken up by such shit of her leaving for her run every day at five! Five! In the morning!" Ki starts before anyone else could.
"Says the one who actually glued me to my bed..." I retort, making the boys laugh.
We get to hear about Theo's summer in Italy and how he got a girl to blow him for concert tickets — reactions contain such controversial things as "Mate, that's not cool!" and "Fuck man, great deal!"
Matt doesn't say much, we only get a "nothing much happened" and "was with Theo."
As for Enzo, he talks about how he went to France with his father.
"Now about the World Cup," Enzo says quickly after he finishes his report about his summer, leaning a little bit forward and so do Theo and Mattheo as if we were about to let them know about some secrets.
"Which part?" I ask, trying to avoid the incidents with Draco. "Because I mean, that Wronski Feint was amazing and-"
"Not about that," Theo cuts me off but I can see a small smile hiding in the corners of Mattheo's lips as I mention the trick. "About what happened after the match."
We tell the boys what happened, from the start of the Death Eaters causing fire and such, through us losing each other in the crowd to the point where the Dark Mark appears in the sky.
"...and she punched Malfoy in the process," Ki states proudly, squeezing my shoulder, to which the boys' eyes widen.
"You should really consider switching houses," Theo smirks, suggestively wiggling his eyebrows.
"What did he do this time?" Mattheo asks and I'm about to tell him he was simply disrespectful toward half-bloods and muggleborns, which of course was not the exact reason for me to punch him, but the door of the compartment opens, sliding to the side once again by the Head Girl of the new school year.
"Ah, great, almost all of you are here," she starts, looking at Ki, Enzo and then me. "Come with me, we'll inform you about your duties as Prefects, now."
We both nod, getting our bags from the rack overhead and waving goodbye to Theo and Matt. I forgot about this part. I've been excited about this all summer — Ki wasn't because she hates kids but she still liked the idea to have an excuse to be out of bed after curfew — but now I just want to stay here.
As we leave the compartment, I'm following Beatrice close behind. "Who's the other from my house?"
"Cormac McLaggen," she answers with a sigh. I bet she knows him just as well as everyone else — the guy has a reputation for being a pompous prick.
I frown, wanting to just simply end my life here and now, and Ki's snickering can be heard from behind me.
"You're fucked, girl," she starts, an empathetic hand on my shoulder but she's grinning. "And if it's on him, you should take this literally."
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Patrolling with Cormac McLaggen is what I'd call exhausting torture; listening to him talk all evening (after the feast, eating until I feel sick and tired of everything, and after the big news of the Triwizard Tournament) about how I should dedicate my first Hogsmeade Saturday to him and how gorgeous I've grown over the summer is tiring and extremely annoying and I swear it's a million times worse than having a Mandrake scream at you from up close.
Turning onto another corridor with Cormac's irritating non-stop chatter, I spot Mattheo — but so does Cormac, the twat. I mean, he's not a twat for noticing a guy clearly out of bed, away from the Dungeons where he should be in his dorm. He's just a twat in general.
"What are you doing here, Riddle?" McLaggen steps forward, blocking my way of walking and seeing Mattheo. He's going to the Astronomy Tower, of course.
"Sleepwalking," Mattheo states, annoyed, making me smile. I can tell just by his voice that he's rolling his eyes. Okay, let's forget about this. I sounded like a creep.
Cormac grabs my arm and starts pulling me back as if defending me, "Come on, Cassandra..."
"...Cassiopeia..." I hear Mattheo correcting him with a snicker, but Cormac clearly doesn't.
"...he's dangerous. I'll keep you safe," the bloke finishes and as he pulls me with greater force, I angrily grab my wand with my other hand, pointing at him from behind.
"Confundo," I call out, causing a pale pastel pink light to hit McLaggen and force him to let go of my arm. He starts to walk away, back to his dorm where I intended to send him.
I turn back, seeing Mattheo still standing there, watching with his big brown eyes sparkling at the little mischief.
"I befriended the devil," he grins at me as I move closer to him.
"Should've sent him to the Black Lake for a date with the Giant Squid," I mutter, taking Mattheo's hand as I start to walk toward the door to the Astronomy Tower. I unlock it and disappear behind it with the boy's warm hand still in mine before anyone can notice us.
"This boy will be the death of me, I swear. If I don't end his life first," I let out a deep sigh, leading Mattheo up the stairs.
"Shouldn't you send me to bed? Or deduct house points?" he tilts his head lightly and I turn my head to look back at him. "Or are you going to beg on your knees to be shagged?" he asks with a suggestive raise of his eyebrows and a grin. I smack his arm with an angelic smile in return.
I immediately let go of his hand as I get this is quite unnatural for him and me — this physical stuff.
"Why have a Prefect friend if not for sneaking you out of bed?" I smirk at him.
"Alright, fair," he laughs softly as we make our way up to the tower.
I stop suddenly — we both only come here when we need some time alone. And I planned to come here after patrolling, anyway.
"Why are you coming here?" I look up at him who's yet to notice I stopped a few steps prior.
"Why are you coming here?" he turns around, looking down at me.
"It's not an answer. And I asked first," I point out with a furrow of my brows.
"I'll tell you if you do too. And if you finally tell me why you broke Malfoy's nose," he stretches his arm out for me to take his hand as an offer, to go up with him and talk.
I look at his hand in front of me, hesitating. Not because I don't trust him and don't want to tell him — but because this physical touch thing is utterly new with him.
"The two things are actually related," I sigh, finally taking his hand. His face lights up slightly which makes me smile a little bit.
"You start, then," he smiles, leading me up to the top.
"The prick disrespected my dad," I tell him as soon as we sit down by the railing, letting our legs down under the metal by the edge of the tower. "See, he's always been a sensitive topic I guess... and Draco told me he would be disappointed..."
I take a moment before continuing, sighing. Godric, why is it so hard to talk about this?
He takes my hand again, squeezing it, to which I smile empathetically.
"...In me. He'd be disappointed if he saw I disrespect our family and such... not following their views. Not following the legacy. Then I hit him when he called dad cowardly."
The words are resonating in my ear. My own words, about how I hit someone. Hit. Someone. I. I hit someone. My actions are only now sinking in; two weeks after it happened.
"I would've done the same," Mattheo looks at me, searching my face, reassuringly rubbing my hand with his thumb, his touch creating a warm sensation on my skin. "I mean, not if he was disrespectful towards my... father, you know. If I were you, I mean. He deserved it."
"But you're a boy," I state.
"And he's your cousin. It's like a... brotherly fight, isn't it? And your family is problematic on it's own so it's not a surprise you can't keep your temper in check," he smirks. His words are true though and I can't deny it. But still, I hurt someone.
"So then, is this why you wanted to come here? Because you hit someone who deserved it?" he looks into my eyes and I shake my head.
"No... it's just... what I saw at the World Cup. That night," I look away for a moment, letting my guard down.
"The... mark?" he says the word with pure disgust, and with a sigh, I nod.
"And the people. They were... you know. His followers," I look back at him. "And I have this feeling that something is up... and I really hope I'm wrong for once. Because as much as a nerd I am, I've read some books and articles on the topic. And I'm just... afraid. Because after more than a decade, it's odd how they all show up all of a sudden."
"I have nightmares," Mattheo says suddenly when I stop talking. "I-I used to have them but I didn't have a single one in a really long time. And those I had before were different. But now... this summer, I had a lot. I was hoping they didn't mean anything and my gut feelings are usually wrong but... after what happened," his voice is a little shaky; I've never seen him this vulnerable and it makes me worry. "I can't be sure anymore."
He looks away, trying to hide his feelings by doing so. I squeeze his hand as his words sink in. He has nightmares, and Death Eaters were at the World Cup, causing chaos, and torturing muggles and muggleborns. Something stinks.
"I'm just kind of scared because... what if something bad happens?" he admits, to my genuine surprise.
"Yeah, mate, I don't have a good feeling about it either," I shake my head, intertwining our fingers for more comfort for the both of us. Strange, this newfound physical comfort with him. But it's definitely something I like and could bear more often.
"And like, the new Dark Arts teacher seems kinda dogdy. His eye scares the shit outta me," he smiles lightly as he looks up from our hands to meet my eyes, trying to enlighten the mood after letting the conversation sink in fully.
"He's the most famous Auror, actually," I laugh. I can't disagree with his reasoning about Moody's eye but I somehow find it fascinating. Strange, but fascinating. Rather grotesque. "I mean, it's kinda cool, he looks like someone who fought against werewolves and vampires and survived."
"But like, what if it has x-ray capability?" he chuckles, making me laugh.
"Then it's something McLaggen would really like to use," I shake my head with a laugh, looking back into his eyes.
"Theo as well," he points out, making me remember what he said on the train.
"Speaking of whom," I start. "What did he tell Ki?"
"My pants are getting tighter and tighter. Can you finally help?" he quotes Theo's exact words with a frown.
My eyes widen and my mouth hangs open. I mean, I get why it made Kiara blush.
"You'd like to hear that from someone too?" he grins, seeing my slight blush in the starlight. "From McLaggen maybe? Or shall I call him McCharming? McDreamy?"
I can't help but almost burst out laughing at his suggestions but he makes me blush embarrassedly at them, just with the whole conversation and where it went.
"McPrick would be perfect for him. Or McICan'tCountUpToTen," I suggest, making him laugh.
Once our laughter dies down, I move a little bit closer to him, leaning on his shoulder, thinking through this extremely long and exhausting day.
"Did Theo really make a move on Ki? Or was it just the causal banter?"
"Dunno. The bloke kinda has a thing for her," he would shrug if my head wasn't on his shoulder.
"Yeah, that one I could tell. How come you speak Italian though?" I point out.
"Theo's mum taught me."
One thing I might have not mentioned before is how after You-Know-Whose disappearance, the Notts took Mattheo in. I don't have many details because Theo doesn't really like to talk about his family, especially not his mum since she died when the boys were young, years before we started Hogwarts. Even the thought of losing mum is painful, of course I don't pressure them into talking about her.
I suddenly remember how he translated Theo's words to me on the train. When he said I was 'more beautiful as ever' and I feel this urge to ask if Theo's words are true. Not to fish for compliments — just to know if he agrees at least a little bit. If he thinks I'm beautiful. At least a little bit. It's strange and I don't know why I'm even thinking this.
He clears his throat after some time, "But if you tell the others about my nightmares I'll put a dung bomb into your bag."
I just smile lightly, nodding, my head still on his shoulder, "Noted."
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i hope you enjoyed this one! next chapter next wednesday<3 comment to be on the tag list.
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