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#i giffed this instead of something else i was supposed to
stephanleyhes · 1 year
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HANDS
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blkkizzat · 5 months
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summary: After a really shitty blind date you end up lashing out at a sexy stranger, sarcastically posing him a question he's more than willing to answer. a/n: Toji got me feral as fuck today y'all but I make zero apologies. Especially for this trifling ass gif because wtf else was I supposed to do after watching this scene, who isn't thinking this is the real question!?!? wc: 3.1k over 2.1k of it is literally just Toji being a munch
eta- put a cute frame over the gif ❤︎
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You were sitting alone in a dive bar after a sorry ass excuse of a blind date. Drowning your sorrows you definitely needed something stronger than the seltzers in your fridge at home.
Things on your date were going well until the end of the night when the conversation turned frisky. You then whispered into your date’s ear that you wanted to ride his face.
That's when your date’s actual face turned to repulsion. Your blind date flat out said eating pussy was gross and refused.
You had dealt with previous boyfriends not wanting to go down on women so you weren't dealing with that shit again.
Nuh-uh. No way.
After not-so-politely telling him to kindly go and fuck himself you grabbed your purse and walked right the hell out of there.
And here you are now.
Alone.
At a sketchy ass dive bar that was mostly emptied.
Three shots of tequila in and a fourth setting on the table waiting for the room to stop spinning before you down it and go home.
Your head was resting on the cool bar countertop as you cursed the entire male species for their existence.
Selfish jerks. Every single one of them.
That would be the last date you would go on in a while. The only man you wanted to see was the bartender when he handed you another shot of tequila and then he could go fuck off too.
So when you felt a large hand on your lower back and a gruff but seductive 'Hey mamas' blowing hot air in your ear you fucking lost it and the full wrath of your scorn and sarcasm was directed at this man.
"LISTEN, I've just had a really shitty blind date. I just want to take this last shot of tequila, stuff my face with KFC and go home. So unless the answer is 'Yes' to the question 'Do you eat pussy?' Get the fuck out of my face, please and thank you!"
You didn’t care who heard your drunken tirade as you lifted your head to face the punching bag for all your current male frustrations.
Your jaw dropped.
The man who stood beside you looked like he walked straight out of Greek mythology. He was tall and muscular with tan skin and his black compression shirt stuck to him like a second skin giving you a detailed view.  
Shit he must be a boxer, or a martial artist or something. There was really no other excuse for a man to be that ripped.
You chewed your lip as your eyes slowly trailed up his body, drinking in his statuesque form to finally arrive at his face framed with shaggy raven hair.
Fuck he is really hot too.
The man, although sexy, looked intimidating as hell as he towered over you. 
You winced as you thought you were in for it with his response and you started to already form an apology in your head.
But instead of anger the man just looked down at you with amused knowing eyes as he allowed you to ogle him. 
He also wore an insanely devious smirk, his scar pulling up at the corner of his mouth.
“Heh.”
From that point things were a bit of a blur as he snatched up and downed your shot of tequila, grabbed your arm and led you away to the back with you barely having time to grab your purse.
You only registered what was happening once your back hit the cold tile of the bathroom wall and saw this sexy mysterious man lower himself to his knees before you.
His large muscular hands trailed all over your body, never leaving you.
"W-What are you doing!?"
You didn't know what to think, this was all happening so fast.
Was this intimidating but sexy as fuck man that you just met, yelled at and didn't even know his name, about to eat you out!?
"Heh, I’m answering your question, mamas."
The man spread your legs at the ankles, not even bothering to lift up the skirt of your dress. Choosing instead to just stick his head right up in there, letting the fabric drape over him.
"Wait at least tell me your na–"
Your sentence was cut short as you gasped at the sensation of his nose pressing into your clit through your black laced panties.
The man wiggled his nose against your clit like he was giving it eskimo kisses. He then salaciously took a huge whiff of your scent through his nostrils and puffed out the large exhale of warm moist breath directly over your cunt sending tingles through your body.
"Fuck, who wouldn’t want to taste this sweet slutty cunt?"
He mumbled, making the comment more to himself than you but your legs still shook slightly from the vulgar compliments and vibrations of his voice in your pussy.
You were practically purring now. You could feel the surge of heat and need rushing over your body spreading out from your core. 
Especially now as his tongue was dragging up the thin lace of your panties and stopped to suck at your clit through the textured material. 
It felt absolutely wild. 
“F-Fuck!”
You moaned loudly and quickly covered your mouth with your hand.
His hands slid up your dress to roughly dig into your hips and pull your pelvis more forward as he smashed his face into your cunt.
Your last bit of reason was telling you to stop him. You didn’t know him at all and what if someone walked in and saw you both? 
However, once you feel the man’s mouth grab the hem of your panties and drag them down your legs to remove them by his teeth alone, your common sense was discarded as well.
You exhaled as you threw your head back in resignation, missing how he slyly pocketed your black lace panties once he finally had them off of you. He would be taking those with him.
You looked down at him as he rose up again, pulling up your dress. He placed a chaste kiss on the mound of your now completely exposed pussy as you squirmed in excitement under him.
“Y’er gonna be a good girl f’er me n’ do what I say, so I can eat this slutty pussy out the way she deserves, eh?”
The cocky smirk on his face never left and he reached both hands around to grasp both your plump ass cheeks, kneading them and enjoying the way your soft flesh squeezed through his fingers.
“Y-Yeah, uh-huh, I’ll be good. I p-promise.”
You breathed out those words too rapidly causing you to realize how needy and desperate you sounded. Your hips involuntarily bucked towards him and you became pliant in his hands.
God, you were nearly begging him with your entire body at this point. 
But the fact was you would be begging him anyway if for some reason he found some good sense and decided this was all way too crazy to be happening right now.
Fortunately for you, you apparently stumbled on the fairy fucking godfather of pussy eating appearing seemingly out of nowhere and who clearly didn’t give a single fuck as to where he was.
His eyes looked crazed and his grin widened at your consent. He released your cheeks to roll up your dress further. 
He gave it to you, but not for you to hold with your hands but with your mouth. 
“Bite down on this f’er me, yeah? Heh, wouldn’t want to draw a crowd from your screams.”
Of course he is arrogant too. 
You rolled your eyes but were obedient. You were too caught up in the thrill of what was happening to disobey him and have him stop.
You bit down on the bunched designer fabric.
“That’s a good little slut f’er me.”
He mockingly praised you and gave an abrupt slap to your ass.
You whimpered around the fabric.
You really didn’t understand why you just couldn’t use your hands though, but you soon found out as he threw both of your legs over his shoulders. 
Your hands were needed to brace yourself, that much became obvious to you as they flew to the wall behind. You grasped for any kind of stability you could find on the slick tile so you wouldn’t topple over. 
His strong wide hands wrapped around your thighs and brought your dripping core closer to his face.
A barely audible ‘Itadakimasu’ was all the warning you got before you felt his flat heavy tongue dig into your cunt.
“S-Shiiiiiiiiit!”
Exploring your pussy like uncharted territory he took his time to lap, slurp and swirl his way through, roaming in the intoxicating folds of your cunt. A fast learner, he noted what made your body twitch, your leg shake or an extra hitch in the deep moans that escaped you through the fabric in your mouth. 
Wanting to hear you scream, he swiped his canine over your clit before he traced his tongue over the bud and sucked hard.
Mission accomplished as your muffled scream came through the fabric of your dress and a hand of yours left the wall to find purchase in his hair, pulling on it hard.
He growls into your pussy with approval when he feels the harsh tug on his black strands and continues working you over, pulling all sorts of vulgar noises from you as he slobbers and spits into your cunt.
The man was fucking nasty the way he devoured you like it was his last meal on death row.
“S-so, close-ahh!” 
Your muffled voice told him but the man could already tell by the way your thighs had enclosed around his head, twitching against him while suffocating him deeper into your core.
The tension that wound itself into a coil in your stomach reached his limits and it finally broke when you felt his canine swipe against your clit a second time.
Your cries choked out as they clumsily made their way out of your mouth still stuffed with your drool soaked dress. 
You quivered and gushed into his mouth, eyes rolling back and your other hand found its way into his hair. Wrenching his locks in between your manicured fingers as if you intended to scalp him from how hard you were twisting.
That only served to encourage his efforts however as he slurped up your juices more fiercely. You clawed at him to release you but you might as well had steel around your body as neither his bulky muscular arms nor thick head budged.
Fuck its too much!
Finally pulling black with a pop he smacked his lips and exhaled an ‘ahhh’ as if he was taking a pause from stuffing himself with a delicious meal.
“This cunt is so fucking creamy, need some more of ‘er.”
You shook your head as tears welled in your eyes at the sight of him salivating over your puffy pussy lips glistening with the combined fluids of your cum and his spit.
“Mm, you want me to stop? But she doesn’t want me to.”
His thick tongue flattened to take painfully slow licks over your slit, the man’s fierce green eyes never leaving yours as they flared with primal urges.
You never had someone aggressively eat you out like this, not to mention actually enjoy it this much.
This man was fucking insane.
“Let’s ask this slutty pussy what she want’s, eh?”
The man tilted your pelvis up, lifting your lower back off the wall so he could move close to your hole that was fluttering, shamelessly clenching around nothing. 
“See that, ma? She’s winking at me, inviting me in. How can I say no?” 
He sounded absolutely unhinged as he slowly extended his tongue to push up into you.  
Your muffled sobs were drowned out by the erotic squelching sounds of your cunt echoing off the tile walls. 
He accelerates you to the point of overstimulation with such vigor that you easily cum on his tongue again for a second time. 
This time your legs trembled more violently and your heels dug into his back causing him to grunt deeper into your pussy. The sharp digging of your heels into his back did nothing to discourage him as his tongue fucked further into your hole without mercy. 
All you could do was wither in his clutches as he rolled his tongue inside you throughout the high of your second orgasm.
You were panting and your jaw became slack as you slowly lost the ability to hold your dress in your mouth any longer. Releasing it along with a well of drool that once freed, overflowed down the corners of your mouth to drip down your neck and chest along with your tears.
“One more mama, I know this slutty pussy can give me that at least... Tch, and take off that dress if ya ain’t gonna hold it, ya? Let’s see those pretty tiddies, eh?”
The man’s distasteful and outright crass words should have turned you off. 
But his filthy tongue not only drains you of your juices but also any kind of restraint or decency you had left. His brash words only make you all the more aroused.
Obeying him once more, you rid yourself of the dress pulling it up and over your head, not caring where it landed. 
You would rather it off than in your mouth anyway. Opting to not wear a bra with this dress you were now naked save for your heels.
“Nice tits.”
You rolled your eyes as his crass compliment but wore a small grin yourself as you playfully shook your shoulders allowing them to jiggle down at his face.
He chuckled at your display but his voice quickly turned devious again.
“Make sure y’er holding on tight this time, eh?”
You strengthen your grip on his raven locks but you still weren’t prepared for when he rose up off the ground entirely to stand, completely shouldering your weight. 
“ACK!!”
The altitude change wasn’t something you expected. He held you up off the wall like you weighed nothing to him and although you felt secure around the lower half of your body, an arm still flailed around for balance. 
Thankfully, you discovered you could hold on to the pipes that hung from the low ceiling yet it creaked as you held on. 
Shit, you hoped it would hold.
Seeing you secure yourself the man wasted no time enveloping your cunt with his hot mouth. The gravity of your weight pushing down your core on his mouth had him more needy for air and you felt the pulses that rocked through you from his rough exhales with fervor. 
“Fuckfuckfuck!”
It proved to be much more difficult to keep your cries of pleasure contained. But you bit your lip to try to suppress yourself into a whine instead of a scream.
Although that all went to shit once you saw the reflection of the two of you in the dirty floor to ceiling bathroom mirror. 
You could still clearly see your forms and the way you looked. Your face completely blissed out, sweating and panting as the mad man did everything but rest while he was between your legs, circling and suckling as if he personally challenged himself to drain all the fluids from your body. 
You tighten your hold on the pipe and experimentally roll your hips forward and your other hand, threaded behind his head through his thick hair pulls him closer as well. 
“G-God-f-fuck-shiiiiit!”
You didn’t care who the fuck heard you this time, as you watched yourself in the mirror thrust your hips forward to fuck deeper into his face, building up a rhythm. 
Your tits bounced up higher with your back arched as your mouth hung open spilling out curses, cries and moans alike. The scene was better than a porno, so hot, so feral, you half wished someone was recording this.
Absolutely loving the thought of you losing yourself to his depravity and you taking on a more aggressive role, the man growled with approval once more into your cunt as his tongue continued to unravel you. 
Your movements became more frantic as you could feel your third and most intense orgasm yet approaching. He eagerly relinquishes more control to you as he allows you to grind his face farther into your pussy.
You shuddered as you felt a shock of electricity wreck your entire being, assaulting all of your senses with the feeling of pure ecstacy. Your toes ached from the intensity of their curling in your heels and your mind only filled with the sounds of the sloppy gurgling noises from the man below you literally being smothered by your cunt as you rut into him.
It wasn’t just the cheap fluorescent lights of the bathroom eye-level with you when white filled your vision and you felt yourself release to convulse and squirt all over the man’s face. 
If you weren’t holding onto the pipe above for dear life, you’re sure you would have fallen.
After a few moments the man easily shifted his hold to your waist and brought your feet back to touch the ground. However, you were still more than a bit shaky and a few steps backwards had you bumping into the wall and sliding down to the floor. 
Your fluids leak out into a small puddle on the ground between your sticky thighs.
The man whose name you still didn’t know slicked his hair back into place as he glanced down at you, disheveled and heaving on the floor. 
“Gochisosama, mama.”
He smirked even with his face completely drenched with your nectar. He brazenly circled his tongue around his lips and corners of his mouth to greedily lap up any of you remaining that he could before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
“Name’s Fushiguro. Toji. Heh, and yeah ma as ya now know, I do eat pussy.”
You gave a weak chuckle at that but your eyes were glossed over and you were fading a bit. You can’t recall the last time you came that hard at all, let alone from just getting your pussy ate. 
“Now, I gotta question, ma.”
Your body, still vibrating with the aftershocks of your intense orgasm has left you non-verbal so you simply nodded your head for Toji to continue.
Toji crouches down to your level which reveals his monstrous and fully bricked cock straining through his sweats. 
Your eyes widen when you see it and you knew then everything about this man named Toji Fushiguro was fucking ridiculous, in both size and demeanor.
Lifting your chin so you could look him directly in his eyes, Toji slid his thumb over on your bottom lip. 
The appendage bullied its way past your lips and pressed down on your tongue. Your mouth opened wide and he inspected you like he was a doctor examining the back of your throat.
Pleased with what he saw, Toji gave you a shit eating grin.
“You swallow kids?” 
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© ʙʟᴋᴋɪᴢᴢᴀᴛ 2023. ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛꜱ ʀᴇꜱᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ. ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ꜱᴛᴇᴀʟ, ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛᴇ, ᴄᴏᴘʏ ᴏʀ ᴄʜᴀɴɢᴇ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇꜱ ꜰɪᴄꜱ, ᴅʀᴀʙʙʟᴇꜱ, & ɢʀᴀᴘʜɪᴄꜱ. ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴀʀᴇ ᴀʟʟ ᴍᴀ���ᴇ ʙʏ ᴍᴇ ᴜɴʟᴇꜱꜱ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀᴡɪꜱᴇ ꜱᴛᴀᴛᴇᴅ. ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ.
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a/n: Istg I'm working on part 2 of Werewolf!Toji but theres no pussy eating in that and he needed to eat some pussy today. I deserve that and y'all deserve that too.
So here. Come and let our feral hunger feast together as Toji feasts on us.
11/4: a quick afterthought of what happened next.
Reblog to spread the depravity as everyone needs to have this crazy ass header pop-up on their timeline lmfao. But likes and comments are appreciated all the same!
tags of depravity please don't send me away for this one: @callm3senpaii @ryomens-vixen
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Look okay like I can't stop with the headcanons someone send help.
Between being married to a chef, and prior to that being the primary cook in my household from age sixteen to twenty-four, I absolutely love cooking. It's been one of my passions for years.
So we're doing headcanons about Reader asking the OPLA boys to cook with them.
Obligatory Sanji foodporn gif for purely aesthetic purposes
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Not to be dramatic but I could watch that all day.
In the Kitchen
SFW
Definitely on the fluffy side.
LA!Sanji X Reader, LA!Zoro X Reader, LA!Shanks X Reader, LA!Mihawk X Reader, LA!Buggy X Reader
Sanji
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"—and this is a boning knife, and this is a santoku, and this is a mezzaluna, and—"
Please.
Please please please cook with him. It will make his entire year.
You could wake him up out of a dead sleep at two in the morning and tell him you want to cook with him, and he'll be wide awake and literally dragging you into the kitchen in excitement.
You sharing in his passion is far more important than anything else.
And you'd best believe he's going to use it as an excuse to be even more flirty than usual.
Standing behind you with one arm around your waist while he shows you the best way to hold a knife to keep your wrist from cramping.
Kissing you on the cheek, brushing his lips to your neck, praising you for absolutely every little thing.
There's a very good chance this entire operation is going to devolve into a kitchen make-out session.
Zoro
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"Hey, uh...is this supposed to smell like smoke?"
Just bear with him, he's trying.
Tells you he could probably burn a pot of boiling water if he tried hard enough.
You absolutely believe him.
Gets super frustrated about cutting his finger trying to dice an onion but absolutely refuses to give up. Unfortunately his frustration makes him even more clumsy with the knife and...oops.
Tries to multi-task like you do...and definitely ends up burning something.
Sitting at the table afterwards, tapping his foot and sulking about you having to put band-aids on his fingers. Says he's probably going to stick to swords after this...
...But secretly, he's pretty sure if you ever ask him again, he'll do it. He's too stubborn to give up for one, and for another he honestly enjoyed the experience with you despite the chaos.
Shanks
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"Ooh, can we do that thing where you pour booze in the pan and it goes up in flames?"
So excited about this, living his best life like always.
Trying to flip the knife in the air and catch it and nearly dropping it on his toe instead.
Literally like a little kid.
He's got a little bit of know-how around the kitchen, but there's definitely room for improvement.
Gets beyond excited about getting anything right, especially if you praise him for it.
Standing behind you with his arm around your waist to watch how you do things, his cheek or his chin resting on your shoulder, just smiling while he listens to you explain the process.
Honestly he's just having a brilliant time doing anything at all with you.
Mihawk
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"Are we absolutely certain this doesn't need more wine?"
He's way better at it than you expected, honestly—but then again, he has been living alone for literal years, so it's not that much of a stretch.
No, you may not use his cross-knife to peel potatoes with, no matter how much it resembles a paring knife, stop asking.
Cooking and wine absolutely go hand in hand with him—whether the recipe involves wine or not (but if he's choosing it probably does), he's still having a glass.
Pretty competitive about who's better at making what, but in a less serious and more playful manner.
Pulling out all the stops to ensure you're impressed—you're going to be making something incredibly fancy and classic, like Coq a Vin or Duck Cassoulet.
Absolutely iron focus—if he's cutting vegetables or seasoning something and you're trying to talk to him, there's a fair chance he won't even hear you at first.
Prefers slower methods of cooking—things that need to simmer for a while, braising, so on and so forth. More time to drink wine.
Buggy
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"Penne for your thoughts? Don't give me that look, you know I'm hilarious."
An excuse to play with knives? Sign him the hell up.
Telling you he worked in the kitchen when he was on Roger's crew, but failing to mention all he did was wash dishes.
He has no idea what he's doing but he's having a simply marvelous time of it.
The food puns. Dear gods the food puns are unending. You're probably going to end up cutting yourself from either laughing or groaning incessantly.
He's definitely going to detach his hands and chill at the table or sit on the counter while they do the work for him.
Manages to catch something on fire within minutes (and you're ninety-nine percent sure it was intentional).
Just reveling in the chaos while you're rushing to get the baking soda to pour over said fire and clap a lid on the pan.
Don't leave him unattended if you value the continued functionality of your kitchen.
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iikatsukii · 1 year
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Too Late.
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synopsis: they loved you when it was too late. 
pairings: sully family x daughter/sister!reader, neteyam x twin!reader, neytiri x daughter! Reader, jake x daughter!reader
warnings: mentions of death, attempted suicide, suicidal thoughts(?), swearing, familial issues. 
word count: 3.6k
a/n: would yall believe me if i said i wrote this while listening to pussy talk by city girls LMFAOOOOO p.s. Happy valentines day (THE RED TEXT IS "FESTIVE" im trynna get into the valentines day spirit :D). I wish i could've given yall part two of illicit love instead of this but i'm not done with it </3. ALMOST THO!!! (gif creds: @world-of-pandora)
(p.s. part two is out now!!)
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it was never supposed to end like this. jake's mouth felt bitter. his whole body shook as he let out the most heart-stopping scream when his eyes landed on his eldest daughter. you, neteyam's twin, lay lifeless in his arms. your father cried because he never got to tell you he was proud of you, or that he loved you, or that you didn't need to compare to your brother to still be considered his baby girl. 
it wasn't always like this, though. 
you and neteyam were always happy and playing around together when you were younger. still, as you two grew older, neteyam took on olo'eyktan training and became his father's perfect warrior. where does that leave you? mo'at had chosen kiri to pursue tsahik training because of her apparent connection to eywa. so where does that leave you? lo'ak took on the role of the troublemaker, and tuk, of course, is just the baby of the family. so where does that leave you?
you're lo'ak's babysitter. making sure the boy doesn't get into trouble, but with your lack of training due to your father training your brother more than you, you weren't really the best babysitter. honestly, it was more lo'ak protecting than you protecting him. he kept you from losing balance while in high places, saved you when you fell into the rapids and flew you home when you forgot your way as if you had not lived in this forest your whole life. 
you felt like a burden on your family. 
nothing you ever did was right. 
you went hunting? cool, but you didn't bring back enough for the whole family, so now neteyam and lo'ak have to go out and find more food for everyone else. 
you bead a necklace for your friend? great, but you messed up the pattern she asked for, so she brought it to kiri so she could remake it.
tuk wanted to go play with you? of course! but now she has a sprained ankle from falling into the river while you were looking at flowers a few feet away.
and every time, somehow, some way, your family always managed to say something that felt like a blade stabbed through your heart.
"next time, y/n, just leave the hunting to neteyam and i. at least we know the right amount to bring back." it was lo'ak before he and your twin had to go hunting for more food for dinner a few weeks ago.
"you know, sister, your jewelry hasn't been the same recently. i've had sooo many of your friends coming back to me saying you messed up the pattern they asked for. just try and pay more attention when you're beading." kiri said as you walked into your home. she was re-beading the necklace you gave to your best friend yesterday. 
the one she told you was perfect and that she loved it.
"how could you leave your sister unattended like that y/n she could've been killed?! why can't you be like neteyam? you’re twins, for crying out loud, y/n. do you not care for your sister's well-being?" your father scolded you outside your grandmother's hut. you could hear her cries inside the tent, along with your mother's gentle words of comfort, as she tried to calm her youngest daughter down. 
you were being compared to your twin for the millionth time in your life, and as used to this as you should be, it still hurt just as bad as the first time your father had said it. 
"she only sprained her ankle. it was an accident sempu–" you tried to defend yourself, but you were cut off. 
"NO. it is, sir. do you understand me?" jake yelled at you. in your 18 years, your father had never raised his voice at you, let alone for you calling him 'sempu.' he used to love it when you called him because you were his ite and he was your sempu. but right now, to him, you were just someone who had hurt his child and nothing more than that. you hang your head, eyes falling to the floor in front of you as you didn't want your father to see you cry. 
"sorry, sir." was all you said before walking away. you don't know where you walked, but you found yourself at the abandoned shack. you knew this area was forbidden, so when you realized where you were, you immediately crouched. you were just gonna walk back because your father would kill you if he found out you were over here, but then you heard voices. you looked through the bush to see a group of 3 or 4 avatars. you knew you couldn't escape now, so you pressed on the collar of your neck.
"sempu– sorry. sir, i need help, i wasn't paying attention to where i was walking, and i can hear avatars speaking english and–" your father cut you off.
"where are you?" he, your mother, and your two brothers were patrolling around your land's territories when they heard you through their earpieces. 
you let out a heavy sigh, praying to eywa that he wouldn't chew your ass up for being here, before pressing the button again and saying, 
"i'm at the abandoned shac–AHH! OWW, LET GO, YOU ASSHOLE!!" you couldn't finish as one of the avatars found your hiding spot, grabbing you by your queue.
thankfully your family had heard enough. your twin telling his father he knew a shortcut, they all flew as fast as they could to you. honestly, this was their last straw. everyone was fed up with you constantly making things hard for everyone.
your mother, though, was worried. you were caught by those skydemons all by yourself. who knew what they would do to you?
as you waited for your family, you were roughly held by your queue as they poked and prodded at you like they had never seen a native before. 
"let me see your hands." the man with a buzzcut spoke. 
"why don't you look at my feet instead?" you said. they all gave you a confused look until you kicked quaritch right in his face. you don't know how, but it caused the avatar behind you to loosen his grip, so you tried to make a break for it.
unluckily for you, the female avatar grabbed your arm, pulling you back into her form. she gripped you by your neck, unaware that she had pressed the button on your communicator. you hissed at her. the man you had kicked was only laughing as he wiped the blood dripping from his nose. "she must be one of his. she's defiant. grab her hands, let me see." he said
the avatar behind you grabbed your hands, holding them both out. 
"hm… four fingers. maybe she's not one of his." were they gonna let you go? wishful thinking.
"fine. she may not be one of his but if one of their people go missing they're bound to come for her. keep her." his words made your heart sank. were they gonna take you? away from everything? your home? your family? if you could even call it that. 
but then you thought about it. you really can't call it that. you don't remember the last happy memory you had with someone, anyone, in your family. it clicked to you that it had been about 10 minutes since you had radioed your father, and he wasn't here yet. were they even coming for you? you knew it was a stupid question. they weren't coming for you. why would they when this was the easiest way to get rid of the weak link of the family? it's not like your blood would be on their hands, and their life would be way better without you.
"they're not gonna come for me. i have no family. you killed my family in the last war, you dickhead." you lied to the man you had kicked earlier. 
hearing you say this confused your family. what were you talking about?
"dammit you're an orphan? i didn't know the na'vi had any of those. then what do we do with her. she's useless. nobody will notice she's gone." the woman behind you asked her superior. 
"hmm.. i have a better idea. kill her. use her as a warning to the sullys. this is what we're capable of now. it'll be a threat. give us jake sully and nobody else will die. but this one… this one is our lab rat. we're gonna make you bleed out nice and slow little one." he said as he grabbed his pistol off his waist, pressing it below your jaw. the nickname made you internally gag, but you held your ground. 
these people had no real idea how tired you really were. you were exhausted. you were ready for life with eywa. you wanted your deity to hold you close, keep you warm, and protect you from the harsh real world. the world that your parents didn't adequately prepare you for. the world that you were ready to leave. 
"kill me," you said as you grabbed quaritch's wrist and moved his gun from under your jaw to right above your heart. "and make it quick. nobody will come for me anyways," you said in a monotone voice.
the avatars all looked at you in awe. they had never once seen a na'vi so willing to give up their life. the natives they had all met were vicious, hissing and armed, always ready to kill. but you. you were the opposite.
you were fed up and ready to die. but not for your people. for your own inner peace. 
"no," quaritch said, putting his gun down. that shocked everyone. like he shocked his soldiers and your family, who had been listening the whole time. they were trying to get to you as fast as possible.
hearing how you really felt was a wake-up call for your family. and when they heard bullets moving within the chamber of quaritch's pistol, they all flew their ikrans as fast as possible, weaving through trees and around mountains, trying to get to you.
you looked at the man like he had just betrayed you. 
"DO IT, YOU COWARD! FUCKING DO IT! NOBODY WILL COME FOR ME!! THEY DON'T CARE!! THEY DON'T FUCKING CARE!!" you don't know what came over you, but you tried to wrestle quaritch's pistol out of his hands. your family was only 2 clicks away and could hear you struggling. everyone landed at the same time. the sullys, excluding tuk and kiri, who had stayed with mo'at, caught quaritch's attention, which distracted him enough for you to pull the gun from his grip. 
you distanced yourself from everyone, and looking around, you realized you were surrounded by everyone. your family and these random avatar people. everyone could read you. you were a ticking time bomb and the only person in control of the trigger was you. one of the avatars took a step forward slowly, but you saw him move and point the gun at him. it didn't stop him from moving, but you heard screams of protest when you pointed the gun at your own head. that's when everyone froze. the avatars. your family. nature. time. eywa. you. everything was frozen.
"babygirl…" the nickname made you snap your neck to the man who was the root of your problems. 
"NO! no, you do not get to call me that. if i can't call you ma sempu, don't bother referring to me as your daughter." you said. your energy was depleted, and you knew you would only be able to stand here for a couple more minutes before you opened your own doors and walked to your great-mother. jake tried to take a step closer to you, which only caused you to tense up and pull on the trigger a little bit. everyone immediately backed up, your mother hissing at you through her tears. "MA ITE, PUT THE GUN DOWN," she screamed at you.
"sa'nok…" you whimpered, not even being able to look her in the eyes. 
"sa'nu… i can't" you sobbed. you could barely breathe and your tears were coming down in waterfalls at this point. you couldn't see anything clearly. your tears had blurred your vision. 
you knew your mom loved you. she and tuk were the only ones in the family who had never uttered a harsh word in your direction. though she was busy taking care of tuk, so it wasn't like you got much attention from them either. but there's no way you would blame her or tuk for that. if anything, you're sorry that you have to leave them, but this world isn't for you. you turned on your heels, looking at the man whose gun you took.
"you are a coward. you should've pulled the goddamn trigger. you're fucking pathetic. are you happy now? now everyone here gets to experience what they've waited so long for." nobody had ever heard you speak to anyone like that. honestly, they couldn't tell if your words were directed at quaritch or yourself. 
you inhaled, looking up at the eclipse, your bioluminescent freckles glowing brighter than they ever had in the nighttime as tears cascaded down your face. 
"goodbye," you said as you squeezed the trigger, hearing a loud bang and tons of screaming. you felt no pain, though. you opened your eyes, not realizing you had closed them, and looked around. you noticed your pistol was stuck in the tree in front of you with an arrow clean through it. you turned to your twin with hate in your eyes. he lowered his bow as he read your expression. 
"now you wanna save me?" your voice was weak but filled with venom. 
"why didn't you save me when you noticed i stopped hanging out with you guys? hm? why didn't you teach me when i was younger? huh? why didn't you talk to me other than when you were chewing my ass out for something that was A FUCKING ACCIDENT, GODAMMIT. WHY?!" you felt like your tears were endless. 
"WHY DIDN'T YOU LOVE ME?! ANSWER ME YOU FUCKERS!! WHY DON'T YOU LOVE ME?!" you screamed your frustrations at your father and brothers. none of them could look you in your eyes, save for your mother. "you only want to save me because you know how much i don't want to be saved anymore but it's too goddamn late," you said.
you turned to the female avatar who was holding you from before. you noticed her gun earlier and hoped you looked threatening enough for her to use it as you ran in her direction. she didn't know what to do. she didn't know you were a barely trained warrior or that you wouldn't have put a scratch on her. she didn't know you were harmless. all she knew was that you were a native, and the natives were hostile. 
so she pulled her gun out and fired two shots into your chest.
the momentum of the bullet was enough to stop you from running. you felt the searing pain start to blossom in your chest area. falling to your knees, your eyes met the woman who had shot you. you looked at her shirt, reading her name. it was a funny name to you, but you didn't care. she had fulfilled your wish without even knowing it. so you used your last breath to speak.
"thank you, z-dog" you slumped over on your side, as everything started to go slow. your vision was starting to darken, and you let it consume you, not wanting to fight for your life anymore. 
cue the screams and cries from your family and the fleeing steps of the rda soldiers. your chest stopped rising and falling, and your breathing had ceased. your family surrounded your body, trying to stop your bleeding and preserve the life that had already left your body. still, you had been shot twice, and both bullets had exit wounds. it was no use. nearby, na'vi had heard the screams of distress and had called over some hunters and scouts to investigate the scene since they knew the area was near the forbidden old shack.
the hunters and scouts arrived at the scene armed and ready to defend their people, but what they were met with was the last thing they expected to see. the eldest sully daughter was lying on the floor, motionless, with two bullet holes in her chest and her blood sinking into the forest floor. her family leaned over her body, screaming and crying for her to be okay and to return to them. they whispered how sorry they were. they whispered to her how if she came back, they would treat her right, teach her, hang out with her, and love her like they were supposed to. but it's too late.
nobody knew how to react. the eldest sully daughter had died, and nobody but her family knew what had happened. 
“ma ite, oel ngati kameie. i see you. i'm sorry, i'm so so sorry. you don't have to be your brother. being you was just fine." your father cried as he cradled your head. brushing your hair away from your face, getting blood on your cheek since his hands were covered in it. 
neteyam and lo'ak were each holding one of your hands. they cried as they watched their tears pool in your palm and then fall off the edge to drip into the soil below your body. they couldn't believe they treated you like anything less than their sister. they treated you like you were a stranger, a burden to deal with. and now that you were gone, they could not tell you how sorry they were for how they treated you.
neytiri was inconsolable. her firstborn daughter had just died in front of her eyes. willingly. she wanted this. her own daughter wanted to take her life. and she couldn't do anything to stop it. how could she not know? how did you go 18 years hurting in silence? how did she not know you needed to be saved? 
"ma ite. my baby. ma y/n." neytiri's heart shattered when she saw those bullets go through your chest. she cried over your body for what felt like hours, but it was only a few minutes until the male healers came so they could carry you to the healing tents to prepare you for your burial ritual. 
as jake pulled his mate from your body, she started to push against him trying to get him to let go of her so she could return to her daughter. 
eventually, jake lets go, unable to keep his mate from her child. he joined her and just asked the healers to give your family a minute with you. 
they just nodded in understanding, leaving your family to grieve. 
two pairs of footsteps rushed towards the clearing, where the family mourned one of their own. 
kiri and tuk had heard the news and came as fast as they could. tuk screamed, running up to you and curling herself into your chest as she sobbed into your neck. she didn't care if she was getting blood all over herself. you were her older sister, and she didn't even get to say goodbye. she felt nothing but sadness and loss. tuk felt terrible because the last time she had seen you was earlier when you brought her back from the stream because she had sprained your ankle. and now you were lying on the forest floor dead? how did this happen?
"HOW DID THIS HAPPEN?! SISTER, PLEASE!!" kiri begged you to wake up as she placed herself where her father was earlier. she rested your head in her lap, looking into your lifeless yellow eyes. you were her elder sister. as much as you didn't know, kiri looked up to you. she knew how hard you tried for the family, and though it wasn't your fault that you would mess up a necklace every once and a while, she couldn't help but feel guilty for the words she said to you in those moments. she knew she could've should've been nicer about it. 
when it was finally time for the healers to take your body, once again, neytiri tried to fight against them. this time everyone in the family had to hold her back as the healer walked you away in a leaf big enough to cover your entire body from the eyes of those around you. once you were gone from her view, neytiri fell to the floor again, sobbing into the ground, 
"GREAT MOTHER, WHY?!!" their mother's screams felt like a knife in their hearts. the sully family felt nothing but guilt and grief upon your death. nobody got closure because there is no closure for this kind of thing. they were the reason you wanted to die, and now that you got what you wanted, they had to live with that guilt. 
you were high in being held in eywa's embrace as you cried. looking down on your family. you did not regret your decision, but you just had one question for your deity. 
"did they really love me, great mother." eywa heaved a sigh before answering you. 
"my ite, your mother and youngest sister loved you everyday, they were just very poor at showing it i'm afraid." you nodded your head, asking a follow-up question, 
"what about the others?" you knew by her face that you wouldn't like the answer, but it was too late. the question was asked. and the answer is precisely the reason why you did what you did.
"they loved you just a little bit too late, my child."
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xzaddyzanakinx · 2 months
Text
Missed Me? Pt 1
Stepdad!Anakin Skywalker x femme reader
18+ MDNI
Warnings: unprotected PiV, stepcest/inappropriate relationships, oral, rough treatment, gag, spanking, spit, semi-public, knife
Info: you just wanted to go on a run, but dear old dad needed some help in the garage; he fucks you stupid. Inappropriate dad joke. Fuck or die type shit
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This gif 🥵 fuck me please
“Where are you going doll?” Anakin’s voice floated over to you from the garage.
“Oh hey!” You said, spinning on your heel and walking toward him after shutting the front door behind you. “I was gonna go for a run.”
“A run?” Anakin asked, lifting an eyebrow in a questioning way.
“Yeah you know? Cause I’m trying out for track?” You reminded him with a slight laugh.
“Sorry baby, I forgot.” Anakin said with a little frown. “Do you have a minute before you go? I need alittle help real quick.”
“Oh yeah sure.” You said, walking over to him in your running shorts and sports bra, a loose jacket of Anakin’s slipping down your shoulder.
“I could get it myself but your tiny arms can reach it better.” He grinned, pointing down into the engine bay of an old truck he was working on.
“Oh shut up.” You scoffed, holding out your hand for him to place the wrench in your hand. He happily did so with that cute crooked smile and then dusted off his hands and lifted you up by your waist to sit you down on the lip of the engine bay so you could reach it properly.
He took advantage of your position to stare at your ass, it’d been a long while since he’d seen it the way he wanted to. Maybe it was time for alittle convincing conversation, he thought as he discreetly adjusted his half-hard cock.
Snapping himself back to the current situation he joined you by standing on the drivers side tire and leaning over to explain what he needed you to do. Soon enough you’d extracted a small, but very heavy piece of the engine responsible for getting the exhaust fumes out the exhaust pipe in the back. Anakin explained that in older trucks like this one, these pieces crack and can cause fuel leaks.
“Great job baby.” He said proudly, helping you get down. “I might as well just hire you huh?” He laughed.
“You’re real funny.” You teased. “All I did was take out some bolts.”
“Yeah and that’s like a big chunk of mechanics sweetheart, you’re basically halfway there.” He teased. “It’d be good for you to learn this stuff anyway.”
“I don’t need to know ‘this stuff’ that’s what I have you for.” You said, watched a smirk cross Anakin’s lips.
Anakin raises an eyebrow, handing you a rag to wipe your hands off with. “I suppose you’re right about that doll, that’s alright though I don’t mind it.” He smiled.
You tossed the rag back to him and started to turn around with a little wave so you could get back on task. But Anakin had other plans.
He twisted the rag taut and whipped it quickly out straight at your ass and it connected with a dull *thwap*. You yelped and immediately covered your ass with your hands and spun around to face him with a red face.
“Anakin!” You squeaked, trying to sound stern but only sounding even more flustered than you looked.
"How about instead of you pounding the pavement, I start pounding something else?" His gaze shifts suggestively to your chest before meeting yours again, challenge gleaming in his eyes and a sly smirk on his lips.
“What are you trying to say Anakin?” You scoffed and crossed your arms.
You of course knew exactly what he meant, but it couldn’t hurt to play naive. What had happened between you in the past should probably stay there. It had nearly ruined your reputation during your senior year of highschool. One time, only once, someone caught a glimpse of Anakin sharing a far from fatherly congrats kiss with you in his car after your team won the regional volleyball tournament.
The damage control that came along after the news spread throughout your school and town was intense. Your mother chose to pretend not to hear the rumors and never even mentioned it to either of you. You refused to acknowledge it, Anakin did the same. A few weeks after that, you’d made the painful decision to end your inappropriate relationship; Anakin agreed it was for the best, but that didn’t mean either of you were happy about it.
Now you were in freshman year of college, trying out for track, aiming for the dean’s list, snagging any extra scholarships you could.
The thought was tempting, so so so tempting. You’d missed him. It’s so hard to love someone from a distance when you live in the same house. It was painful, gut wrenchingly painful to wean yourself off those goodnight kisses, the far too long hugs, the couch cuddles, those secret hot and heavy moments you snuck away for every chance you could.
’No.’ You said to yourself , ‘nope, not going there. I. Can’t. Do. That. Again.’
“What am I trying to say?" Anakin repeats, his face mimicking a forlorn puppy. “I miss you.”
“Anakin.” You warned, he can’t use that voice with you. You’d melt. You’d cave.
“Baby, please?” He took a hesitant step forward. “We don’t have to do anything… I just- I miss being close to you.”
“But-“ you started and he held up his hand.
“It was a bad joke I know.” He said apologetically. “I just… you know me I suck at talking about things.”
“It was a bad joke.” You agreed, a soft smile on your lips.
“I know what I said back then… how you’d be better off finding someone your age. It’s true you know? But just cause it’s true doesn’t mean that’s what I actually want.” He whispered, leaning closer until his nose almost touches yours.
“Ani… we really shouldn’t.” You whispered. “You say ‘we don’t have to do anything’ but we both know how we’ll end up if we give in just alittle bit.”
“So you miss me too?” He asked, a little hint of emotion in his voice.
“You’ve always been so good at only hearing what you want to.” You sighed.
“No. I’m just really good at reading between the lines sweetheart.” He said softly, bringing a calloused hand to your cheek.
Anakin was letting his hand hover near your cheek, not quite touching it, just close enough that you could feel his warmth. The fact that he was giving you the choice of even such a small form of intimacy made you want it even more. Hesitantly you allowed the little bit of skin contact, his palm fitting to your cheek perfectly. His thumb rubbed ever so gently across your under-eye, so soothing that if you were to lay down right now, you’d be asleep in seconds.
A warm and genuine smile graced his lips, his eyes shining with adoration and joy that you’d allowed yourself this affection from him.
“I always did love when you wore my clothes.” He whispered, straightening the borrowed jacket back up onto your shoulder. “I like that you still do sometimes.” His tone of voice laced with a horrible longing.
There it was again. That voice. That look in his eyes that made your heart scream. You couldn’t help it, it must be some kind of baser instinct. The horribly painful urge to comfort and hold and love and kiss him when he did this. Or at least that’s what you told yourself.
“What are you thinkin’ doll?” He whispered, resting his forehead on yours. His thumb brushing your lower lip while his other hand slid down the fabric of your jacket to rest on your hip.
The respect he showed for your boundaries was always so endearing. Anyone else would’ve just went straight for the bare skin on your waist. It would’ve been so easy to slip his hand beneath the open jacket and squeeze the soft flesh like you knew he wanted to. But he didn’t.
“I’m thinking this is a real bad idea Ani.” You said quietly, even though you were actively inching closer.
“Probably.” He agreed, allowing you full control over the situation. He was itching to give you that kiss you so desperately wanted, but knew it wasn’t his choice. You had to decide.
“Mom would never forgive me.” You mumbled. Knowing that it was true, she turned a blind eye once in hopes of it being a horrible rumor spread by someone at your school. But if word got out a second time around? Game over.
“Mmm no. She wouldn’t.” Anakin whispered, his lips parted and he watched you tilt your chin up.
“It’s just gonna hurt us.” You whispered, your lips centimeters from his. It was taking every bit of control in his body to keep still.
“Like hell.” He agreed, his mouth practically watering as your lip barely gazed his.
“I was just getting over you.” You lied, a last ditch effort to right this wrong before it came to fruition.
“No you weren’t.” He breathed out, hot breath fanning over your wetted lips.
“No. I wasn’t.” You confirmed.
You stay there, your lips so close. Hovering just out of reach, your noses pressed together. The anxiety of waiting for your next move was getting to Anakin and he was trying. He really was trying to behave himself, but fuck you made it so hard on him.
You held your breath and dove in. Lips meeting in a searing kiss, hot and heavy from the very beginning. As if there were no other way to survive, as if you stopped you’d simply crumble to pieces.
Anakin let out a desperate groan and slipped his tongue into your mouth, past your smooth lips to massage your eager tongue. He hummed at the taste of you, having craved it for so long. Like an addict he was doomed the moment he felt your lips again.
Anakin was usually gentle, rough enough when you needed him to be, but right now? You’d never seen him so fucking feral.
He was breathing like he was gasping for air, hot breath from his mouth and nose as he tore the jacket off your shoulders and clumsily grabbed your chin to tilt your head back farther. Practically fucking your mouth with his tongue he walked you backward to his work bench. Cradling your head with one hand and his other was sliding up the back of your sports bra to sit heavy between your shoulder blades.
Your ass hit the wood of the table and he lifted you up and sat you down roughly, the legs scraping across the floor until it was pushed flush against the wall. Anakin’s hands were tight on your hips as he adjusted your angle so that you were perfectly lined up with the big throbbing bulge in his jeans.
He pressed against you, groaning when he realized he could feel the heat of your cunt through the thin fabric of your shorts. The delicious ‘mmm’s, ‘mph’s, and ‘uh’s of his relentless mouth on yours was dizzying. He was always so vocal and it was always so fucking hot. You swallowed those gorgeous little noises and returned the favorite with a whimper when he ground his cock against your core.
“Missed you baby.” He mumbled, his sticky kisses trailing down your jaw.
“Missed you Ani.” You parroted back in a breathy escape of air.
Your brain short circuited from the polar opposite contrast of his viscous lips, teeth and tongue on the sensitive skin of your neck, and the gentle caress of his rough hands on your sides and back.
“Please?” He asked, his index finger running back and forth across the waistband of your shorts.
You nodded, attempting to help him pull them down but he got impatient. So impatient that he grabbed his pocket knife and flipped out the blade quicker than you could blink. A loud *skrrrip* of the fabric left you bare. He’d even managed to get rid of your panties without you even realizing. You were too busy feeling your cunt contract around nothing as you gushed fresh arousal at his eagerness.
“S’fucking taking too damn long.” He grumbled, gently but firmly pushing you back to lie down on the table, his other hand flinging random tools, bolts and screws across the garage as he carelessly cleared a place for you.
His knife dipped under your bra at the valley of your breasts and sliced through it easily, allowing your tits to spill out for him to feast on. Anakin must’ve read your mind, because when he latched onto one of your nipples, tossing his knife aside to tweak the other, he mumbled. “I’ll buy you new ones.”
You would’ve laughed had you been capable of breathing correctly. He left your tits to grab your neck and firmly squeeze it, his tongue trailing down your stomach, circling your navel and then wasting no time at all with suctioning his pretty pink lips around your puffy little clit.
He whined and moaned like he was on the receiving end, the way he got pleasure from your pleasure was beautiful. Never had you seen anything like it. A man who loved pussy, correction: your pussy so much that he could stay buried there for hours. Like it was mutually beneficial, he’d rutted into your mattress for over an hour while tongue fucking you into oblivion once. When he finally relented he sat back on his heels to reveal white sticky smears across his thighs and lower stomach. He’d humped himself to orgasm just about as many times as he’d lovingly forced you to endure cumming for him.
This was different. This was pure unfiltered hunger. Both hands under your ass now, thumbs pulling your pussy lips apart so he could slurp and lick and destroy you as quickly as possible. He was moaning as if he’d found an oasis after days alone in the desert.
“C’mon baby.” He panted. “Give it to me. Give me what I need.”
His deep rumbling voice flowed through every fiber of your being and snapped the coil in your stomach before it could even finish winding up. He shoved two fingers in your mouth you silence your screams and you swore you could feel the man’s cocky little grin against you as he licked you clean.
“That’s it.” He panted, standing up and licking his lips. He pulled his sweat soaked work shirt off his body and wiped his mouth with it.
“Turn over sweetheart.” He commanded, eyes on fire as he whipped off his belt and dropped his grease stained jeans down around his thighs.
You quickly complied, your toes barely touching the ground as the dull edge of the table bit into your hips. Anakin grabbed both asscheeks and jiggled them. You heard him groan right before a loud *smack* echoed in the garage, a stinging slap that would surely leave a red mark.
You cried out, not in pain, but in need. He knew you loved that and he loved to watch what happens after he spanks you. He pulled your asscheeks apart and watched with his tongue folded over his top row of teeth, the tip hiding behind his top lip as your pussy leaked creamy slick down to your puffy folds.
He bent down, hands still firm on your ass to kiss your dripping hole gently before spitting a fat blob of saliva there for good measure. You heard a rustle of fabric before his sweaty tshirt was tossed over your head and forced into your mouth as a gag, Anakin’s big strong hand gripped the two ends together behind your head like reins.
Without warning he shoved his cock into your tight little pussy and pushed down on your lower back with his forearm to keep you still as he pounded into you.
“Sorry doll.” He panted, hips slapping against the backs of your thighs in a sweaty sticky mess. “Gotta make sure no one can hear you sing for me.”
You could hear the grin in his words, you could feel the unbridled lust seeping into your skin from his closeness. His cock bullying your soft gummy walls, he’d gotten you off. Now it was his turn, and he was going to use you until he burst.
“Missed this so much.” He breathed out, his voice hoarse.
“Thought about you every day. Not just the sex.” He admitted. “You. Just you baby. I love you.”
“Fuckin’ love you.” He grunted, huffing and gritting the words out through his teeth.
“Love this pussy.” Each syllable punctuated by a deep and brutal stroke.
“Mine.” He groaned, his hips stuttering. “Mine. I don’t give a fuck.”
“You hear me?” He asked, pulling on the gag to lift your head. He grabbed a hand full of hair along with it and nodded your head for you. “Yeah ‘course you do princess.”
“Don’t care what anyone says.” He whined, his hips snapping faster.
“God damnit.” He panted heavily, his forehead dropped to the dip under your shoulder blade, a hot breathy open mouth kiss placed there.
His fore arm left your lower back to brace himself against the wall, without the weight of him holding you in place you were helpless to the onslaught of rough thrusts, the table swaying and creaking under the force of his cock drilling into your poor abused cunt.
He’d fucked you stupid, you felt delirious, your head spinning as though your were drunk. You supposed you were, cockdrunk that is. You couldn’t tell up from down, or left from right. The only thing on your mind was Anakin.
You moaned it, screamed it, cried it out with big salty tears soaking the drool and sweat stained shirt caught between your teeth. He was right. He was fucking the living daylights out of you and it would’ve been a real shame if someone had called the cops in worry that you were being murdered.
“Fuck sweetheart. You hear me?” He laughed. “Poor thing. Fucked you senseless huh?”
Had he been talking? He’d been speaking to you and you hadn’t heard a word. You were too busy trying to hold onto the very thin string tethering you to reality.
“Sweet little hole’s been leaking down those pretty thighs of yours. You’re cumming and didn’t even know it baby.” He teased. “Does it just feel that good?”
“So good you can’t tell what’s what? All just one big orgasm huh?” He said, the authority in his tone mixed with condescension was so so sweet.
Your eyes rolled back in your head and you went limp again. Oh shit, he was right. What the hell had he done to you? Your body felt on fire, your cunt almost numb from the onslaught of relentless forced orgasms. No wonder you were so completely out of it. He really had fucked you senseless. You could finally hear yourself, truly hear yourself now that Anakin had brought you back down to earth, and god were you loud.
His hips stuttered, his thrusts getting sloppy as he got closer and closer to the finish line.
“Where do you want it huh?” He asked you, not really expecting an answer. He was gonna fuck his cum into you regardless.
“On this juicy ass?” He asked, squeezing it hard, you frantically shook your head.
“No? Where then?” He taunted. “Your mouth? On those pretty lips? Your hair? No… couldn’t be that baby, you hate that.” He laughed. He was enjoying this power trip way too much.
You whined and squirmed under him your words muffled as you helplessly begged for him to please just cum inside.
He must’ve gotten sick of making himself wait, because the next thing he said was, “Oh I know… you want it riiiight there huh?”
He panted, as he held his hips flush against you, his cock unloading rope after rope of hot cum. He gently released you from the gag, a breathy laugh escaping him when you lazily collapsed on the table.
“C’mon sweetheart, let me clean you up hmm?” He said, his voice deep as he tugged up his jeans.
You tried to hop down from the table but every square inch of you was exhausted and throughly used to the point that you were boneless. Anakin stopped you with a soft kiss on your spine, spreading your cunt open again he thrust his tongue deep inside, sucking his cum and your juices from your spent hole.
That’s when you heard gravel crunching under tires up the length of your driveway.
Part Two
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itsharleystuff · 8 months
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↳ I. 𝘞𝘖𝘙𝘓𝘋 𝘊𝘓𝘈𝘚𝘚 𝘚𝘐𝘕𝘕𝘌𝘙
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Gif not mine! | Read part two here.
— 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dbf!Joel Miller x afab!fem reader (no outbreak au)
— 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 7.4k
— 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: After two years of absence and finally graduating college, it’s time you go back to Texas; to come home with your dad. But the prospect of facing the Joel Miller, your dad’s best friend and your secret crush, has your mind scattered.
— 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬/𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: 18+ content (minors dni!), smoking, alcohol consumption, age gap (reader is twenty four, Joel is late forties), oral sex (f! receiving), fingering, spitting, mentions of masturbation, pet-names (sweetheart, darling), moral conflict, semi-public sex, slight dirty talk, pussy-drunk Joel, no use of y/n. I think that’s it, let me know if I missed something:)
— a/n: I honestly have tons of ideas for this particular universe, so I might make more parts if y’all like it<3 btw, reader is a fashion designer in this. Thought it might be important to mention, lol.
✎﹏﹏﹏﹏
You had never met him before. Not in person, at the very least.
Up until a while ago, you'd only seen him in the pictures your dad kept hanging around the house. And he had plenty of those: both of them in college, a road-trip with other friends or even after a hunt. Of course, you'd heard a lot about him too, but whenever you visited Texas your dad would dedicate his whole days to you exclusively. No time to visit his best friend-slash-neighbor, despite all the opportunities presented.
So the first time you ever saw him face to face was two years ago, in a Fourth of July barbecue he hosted.
Joel Miller.
Joel mother-fucking Miller.
Tall, broad, rugged looking, moody and with a seemingly stern exterior. An absolute dilf.
You always found him rather appealing— nothing but a silly little thought from whenever you would stare at the photographs. But meeting him personally was a whole eye-opening experience, like getting glasses after discovering you’ve had astigmatism your entire life.
"He liked you, y'know?" your dad had told you the next day. "Joel isn't usually that nice."
"Maybe it's because I'm your daughter," you joked. "I bet that helped with my impression."
"No," said him, laughing and shaking his head, "it was something else."
You didn't interrogate him on the matter. Whatever it was, you sure were glad to be in his grace.
That summer you saw a lot of him— specially since it was the longest you had spent in Austin ever since your mom passed away. You were twenty two at the time, right in the middle of your college studies. But the amazing thing about Joel was that he never made you feel patronized, neither did he treat you like you had to fit in the 'best friend's daughter' box. He was nice and made you feel comfortable in all ways possible.
Frankly, deep down you wanted him to be an asshole. If that were the case, you could've had the perfect excuse to push him away. Instead, your crush simply grew stronger.
Because, fucking hell, the man was hot in a striking, yet brooding manner. Joel Miller was attractive in the way a man is supposed to be attractive. Which was quite a contrast compared to the boys that usually neared you, who had no sense of themselves and were always fooling around with no idea what they were doing.
It was so bad that even now, after two years without seeing him —or your dad, for that matter— you feel anxious and eager at the thought of a reunion.
You're now officially graduated, and after a lifetime of traveling the states to visit both your parents, added to four years of college in New York, it's finally time to settle down for a while. To move in with your dad and make up for the lost time.
"Are you really going to stay in Texas?" Sophie, your best friend, asked through the phone speaker. "After all these years in the big city?"
"Yeah, I ought to stay with him. After all, we're the only family we've got," you replied, staring out the window of the cab. "When I told him I was coming he got so excited, you should've heard him. He said he'd throw me a homecoming party, can you believe that? Who's even going to attend?"
You hear her giggle on the other side. "What about that Mr. Miller you always brag so much about?"
"What about him?" you wondered with half strained voice.
"Oh, don't play coy, honey," she mocks. "We both know how much you want him to give you a sweet old Texan welcome."
"I have no idea what that is," you respond, smiling.
"I just made it up. No idea what they do in the south. I'm from Brooklyn." Of course she made it up. "But I meant it's pretty obvious how much you want his head between your legs..."
"Okay, yeah- I get it." You interrupt, starting to see familiar houses from your dad's neighborhood. "You're right. But he's... Righteous. Apparently."
"Sweetie, let's be honest," Sophie talks softly, "no man is righteous. Just show them a bit of skin and they'll be wrapped around your finger forever."
"I'm not sure I-"
"Try it. And keep me updated," she mumbles hastily. "I've got to go now. I have an appointment with the Ralph Lauren executives in ten minutes."
"Treat them nicely, Sophie. Don't waste my recommendation letter," the girl laughs.
"Yeah, yeah... I'm serious about Miller, though. Be sure to wear something low-cut. Bye, bye!"
She hangs up right when you're outside the house; the one you knew so well and at the same time felt so unknown. The one where you spend each summer and occasional holiday in. Your childhood home. Oddly enough, the door is open but you can't see your dad anywhere near. You hoped he'd be around to help you with the luggage, though it didn't seem like it.
"Dad?" You call for him from the entrance, carrying both heavy suitcases. "Anyone here?!"
The faint noise of footsteps is barely audible before you see him leaning against the kitchen door, arms crossed over his sturdy chest.
Breathtaking.
"M'not your old man but pretty sure I can help you with that," he says with that characteristic Texan drawl of his, gesturing towards your cases.
"But if it isn't Joel Miller in the flesh," he tilts his head with a faint smile, approaching your side. "You haven't aged a day since I last saw you."
It was true. Perhaps his skin looked a bit more tan, his hair somewhat longer and curlier, his beard starting to gray. But everything else remained the same. He smelled just like you remembered —fresh soap and musky cologne—, and still held onto the same mode choices: flannels, boots and dark jeans.
"Quite the opposite to ya," he says, taking both your suitcases from your hands. "I like your new hair."
"Are you implying I look old?" Joel grins smudgily.
"None of that, darlin'. I'd say mature." His words manage to make your pulse raise. "Shall I take this upstairs?"
"Yeah, I- I'll walk you to my room," he chuckles as he steps on the stairs. "What?"
The man shakes his head as he makes his way to the second floor, followed closely by you. Nothing about this house seemed different. Nevertheless, you felt different.
"Nothing. S'just..." he takes a deep breath, but changes the subject quickly. "Your dad went to the store to get some beers. He'll be back any second."
You nod, opening the door to your dorm. It was exactly the same as it was two years ago, simply tidier and with a poster that read 'welcome home and happy graduation' in messy, colorful handwriting over your bed.
"He made that himself. Though, I've gotta say, I'm glad he didn't pursue an artistic career." You both laugh at the comment.
"A for effort." Joel sets your luggage next to the doorframe, being monitored by your keen eye. "Will I see you tonight? I know you're not a big fan of social gatherings."
"Your dad'll kill me if I'm not. He's got me here since ten o'clock to help him out." You look up at him, feeling vaguely nostalgic when watching your surroundings. "But I'm also hoping we'll catch up. I'd like to hear all about your adventures in the big city, aight?"
"Oh, I'm not sure you'd like that," you retort. "I'm afraid you'll see a side of me you might disapprove of."
Joel's brows shot up in a cocky expression. "And here we were all thinking you were such a nice girl. Forget 'bout me, sweetheart. Your old man would drop dead if he gets the news."
You can't hold back the smirk that spreads across your face as you look him dead in the eye. Truth be told, you had wished for him to change, in any sort of way. Maybe if he had gotten a couple more wrinkles or grey hairs you'd be able to not find him attractive anymore. But age suited Joel. Maybe if he stopped being so warm to you, so kind, it might be able to fade away.
'Righteous', you'd called him.
But he isn't so much. No man ever is.
In your last visit you weren't bold enough with him, but each time you'd say something slightly suspicious, every occasional brush or brief skin to skin contact during a shared moment, had an effect on him. He reacted to you, even if he thought you wouldn't know. Sure, he was well restrained and you probably wouldn't have noticed if you weren't actually looking for any signs. That didn’t change the facts, anyway.
"I've never really been much of a nice girl, to be honest," you retaliate, dragging the words. "But I bet you can keep a secret, can't you?"
Something in your voice causes him to unconsciously stop breathing. His brows knit together and it takes him a second to regain composure. However, he doesn't get to say a thing, your dad's voice suddenly floating from the floor beneath.
With your blood rushing, you practically flee downstairs, seeing his face change completely at the sight of his beloved daughter.
"You're here early, what the heck?" The man mumbles with a kindhearted smile, embracing you in a tight hug.
"Figured I might surprise you." The boxes of beer he bought were quickly discarded when he saw you. "So, are you surprised?"
"Very. But I was supposed to pick you up at the airport. Did you take a cab?"
"Don't worry about that," you reassure with a gesture. "It was included in the airport bill."
"Oh, man..." your dad turns to see his friend, "you leavin' already?"
"I have to pick up Sarah," he explains, peeking at his watch. "She had soccer practice today."
"Can I expect to see her later, too?"
Joel nods at your question, faintly beaming. "F'course. She loves you."
⩇⩇:⩇⩇✧˖°
Shortly after Miller's departure your dad sent you off to bed, arguing that you were probably tired. And even if you wanted to stay and chat with him for a while, you had to admit he wasn't mistaken. Either way, you still had the rest of the day —and plenty more ahead— to do that. Besides, he still needed to sort some things out before the party.
So, without unpacking or undoing your bed, you slept for hours, dreaming about how your new life was going to be.
(...)
When you finally woke up, night had already fallen. Your dad mustn't have wanted to wake you, but it made you feel in a rush to get ready. You took a cold shower and kept your makeup neutral in order to be quick. Furthermore, Sophie's advice to wear something low-cut was taken under consideration.
Judging by the noise coming from the backyard, you guessed the guests had already started to arrive. You heard talking and music, aside from smelling the hamburgers your dad was preparing. There were kids running around and a couple of people chatting in the living room when you entered, setting all eyes on you.
You knew most of them, neighbors and friends of your dad's. They immediately monopolized your attention, asking questions regarding your career life, reasons why you chose your major and saying how much your dad loved and missed you. It wasn't bad, you liked the courtesy and praise; nonetheless, in the back of your mind you were solely expecting the Millers' arrival.
After a while, you excuse yourself and decide to join your dad outside, stepping onto the fresh air.
"How's everything here?" you ask friendly. "Need any help?"
He was surrounded by some other of his pals, all of whom you'd met in your last visit, except for one– still, you couldn't help but think that he had a familiar air.
"We're alright, honey." You greet them all with a smile as your dad hooks an arm over your shoulders, offering a beer that you decided to decline.
"My niece was right," said the man you didn't know. "You're quite beautiful." He spoke subtly and on the right lines, giving you a affectionate smile. 
"Ah- I don't believe you've met Tommy," your dad chimed in. "He's Joel's younger brother."
"Oh, yeah..." you remembered, "he mentioned you last time I came. It's nice to finally meet you."
Now that you saw him up-close, he did resemble his brother in a certain way. There was something very emblematic that all the Millers had, a sparkle in their eyes that you picked-up on Sarah, but that enchanted you in—
"Speak of the devil..." your head jerked to the side, watching as your most expected guests come to join you.
"My goodness!" you speak in surprise, sharing a hug with Joel's daughter. "You've grown so much in the last two years... You're even taller than me now and I'm wearing heels." The girl giggles, charming as always. "Didn't you just turn seventeen?"
"A month ago," she answers. "But let's not talk about that, it makes dad feel old."
"Joel?" You look behind her, locking glances with him. "But he's in his prime!" he rolls his eyes sardonically.
"Come on, sunshine," Tommy says, "you know it's not polite to make fun of the elderly."
They laugh and you can vaguely hear your dad scolding him, but don't really pay attention to it as they go back to their conversation. In the corner of your eye, you catch a glimpse of his smile.
He looked handsome. To you, he always did. Tonight, however, he decided to change the flannels for an olive button up shirt and a black leather jacket. His curls seemed carefully styled and he smelled of sandalwood.
"By the way," you address Sarah, "I brought you something from New York. It's one of my designs..."
"Seriously?" Her whole face lit up at your words. "You know how much I love your work!"
"Yeah, thought you might like it. But I'll give it tomorrow. I haven't unpacked and my things are real a mess."
"That reminds me." The girl turns to Joel. "Did you bring it?" he nods and takes a small box from the pocket of his jacket, handing it to her.
"What's that?" you question out of curiosity.
"I got you a lil' present," Sarah answered.
"You, did what?" Joel countered with a reproachful tone.
"I mean- I chose a present..." the man clears his throat and she rolls her eyes. "We chose a present, which he payed for. Buuut, it was my idea so-"
His dad snorts and shakes his head, turning to chat with the rest of the men. The younger one drags you away to have some privacy, taking a solitary spot under the big apple tree. During your conversation, you discuss the details of your so called 'highlife' and open the tiny box they gifted, finding a shiny ring sitting on the bottom.
"Do you like it?" You grin and nod in response, deciding to put it on in that same instant. "Dad noticed you like wearing lots of rings.”
Joel noticed.
"I love it," you remark. "Thank you. Both."
Your eyes drift to the crowd gathered around the grill, men laughing and sharing beers. The surprising part was that when you finally found your target, he was already staring at you. If he was expecting you to notice or not, there was no sign. But the older one held your lingering glance and everything else seemed to fade away, suddenly becoming white noise in the background. There was a challenging fire behind his brown orbs, kind of like he was saying 'I know what you're doing and I can do it too'.
"So," you turn back to Sarah with a strange, thrilling sensation in the pit of your stomach, "what's up with you? How's high school?"
"Boring. You know the drill."
"And the boys?" she almost looks flustered at the question.
"Complicated. Bet you know all ‘bout that." Your brows furrow slightly.
"What gave you that idea?"
"Just an impression," her fingers fidget nervously.
You shrug, deciding to change the subject. "You're graduating soon... Have you decided on any universities yet?"
"Not quite," she sighs. "I'm worried about my dad, really. I don't want him to feel alone if I move out."
A sly smile parts your lips. "He won't be. There's my dad, your uncle and... Me. I'll make him a Tinder profile. He'll be fine."
Sarah chuckles and shakes her head. "He talks about you, y'know?"
"What, Joel?" you ask in a sarcastic tone, cocking an eyebrow at her. "Hard to believe."
"It's true! I think he admires you, in a way..."
With a hand gesture, you stop her. "Are we talking about the same man here?"
"Ask him. He might deny it, but it's often your name is brought up in conversations," she unfolds. "When you got that internship in Ralph Lauren, the articles you've written, magazines you've appeared in..."
"It sounds extremely rare for someone like your dad would be interested in the fashion industry. Even if it's just for me, cause I'm certain my own dad is the one forcing all this information onto him."
"Maybe," Sarah agrees. "Whatever it may be, I'm sure he'll be alright if you're around. At least happy, I think."
⩇⩇:⩇⩇✧˖°
The kitchen was a good shelter from all the gossip and noisy kids that turned out to be overwhelming after some time. No one came in there unless they needed to; and as of now they all seemed more concerned with other sorts of business. Besides, it was pretty late and most people had already headed home.
A bottle of wine was opened and poured into a glass, accompanied by a Marlboro cigarette from the depths of your purse, enjoying them while watching the night sky through the window. All your mind could think about was him and his odd behavior: Joel picking up on details, Joel talking about you with Sarah. Him. Just him.
"Am I interrupting somethin'?" you shake your head without looking back, recognizing his voice.
He walks over to you silently. The man is somehow very silent for someone so big, to the point where you didn't even listen when he opened the door. He leans against the counter, his body so close to yours that you can feel his warmth even if you're not seeing him.
"Want some?" you ask, raising your half-empty glass of red liquid and whipping your body to face him, standing shoulder to shoulder, closing the curtain in the meantime.
"Thanks," he mutters, showing his can of beer, “m'not that fancy." You titter, taking a short drag from the dart. "I'll have one of those, if you can spare."
With the fag between your teeth, you take the pack of smokes from your bag and hand it to him, shooting an inquiry expression.
"What?" he asks with an arrogant beam.
"Nothing..." your voice comes out weird from holding back laughter as you take the lighter in your fist. "I just didn't know you smoked."
He takes one to his lips, keeping close eye contact with you all the while. The action sends a rush of excitement throughout your whole body as you duck forward to burn the unlit end, staring back at him with hooded eyes.
"I rarely do," he admits, setting the package aside.
If he wasn't hot enough already, the practiced mannerisms he had when smoking simply added to his sultriness.
"Why you hiding?" you wonder, ashing the cigarette over the sink.
"Not hidin'. Just sent Sarah home, but I wanted to catch you before leavin'."
It didn't surprise you, they lived across the street and, after all, he did say he wanted to talk.
"Did I mention how handsome you look today?" He sneers shortly.
"Well, my daughter was very clear 'bout not wanting me to wear flannels around a fashion designer." Joel takes a sip from his drink, holding the cig between his fingers.
"She gives me too much credit," you say, a bit embarrassed.
"You deserve it," the man replies grimly. "And you look absolutely beautiful, too. One of yours?"
His eyes briefly set on your chest, for such a short second that you actually believed you had probably imagined it. The dress you chose for the occasion was one of your first designs; pearl colored, cinched from the waist above and slightly loose over your thighs.
"Yes," you gulp, diverting your gaze to the glass on your hand. "So how's everything 'round here?" Joel shrugs his shoulders with indifference. 
"'S alright. Same as always," he meditates on it. "Boring without you to keep us entertained."
You utter a mocking snort. "Do my silly little experiences really entertain you?"
The older one tilts his head to blow some smoke. "You always talk so freely about your dreams and the goals you've accomplished. And your dad's enthusiasm is contagious, I might say." He licks his bottom lip, thinking. "I don't know... I'm glad someone close is doing all 'at. Feels like you ain't afraid of anything."
His words put a bright smile on your face. "Life's a risk, isn't it? Better be bold if you want to end up somewhere."
He huffs a laugh, nodding in agreement. A comfortable silence veils between you as you enjoy the alcohol and cigarettes. It was always nice to hang out with him like this.
"By the way, how are you holding up?" the question clasps his curiosity. "Parenting a teenager can be quite difficult, I've heard."
"Jesus," he grunts, "it's driving me insane. Not her per say, but the whole 'boy talk' 's just too much."
"I bet," you chortle, "although, I wouldn't worry too much. It's just a phase." 
"Yeah?" Joel scoffs. "You gon' tell me you ain't got tons of guys chasing around ya' anymore?"
"Oh, they're there," your tone matches his energy. "All these old ladies kept trying to introduce me to their sons a couple hours ago. Nevertheless, I gotta say..." He leaves the empty can on the bar across him. "Boys make me sick."
His eyes widen in surprise, but the rest of his face remained in composure. "How so?"
The atmosphere swiftly changes, a kind of heated tension rising to the top, palpable in your fingertips and waving in his chest.
"I've had my fair share of them," you explain playfully. "Guys my age never know what they want or what they're doing. I've decided to change my focus to men, instead."
He knows what you're up to. You can tell he does.
The question is: will he take the bait?
"Meaning?" Joel's lips curve around the orange filter in a smug smirk. You jerk your head to the right, setting the glass of wine aside.
"I'm not sure..." he laughs dryly at your hesitation.
"I think you are, sweetheart."
The abiding silence that followed that statement was nothing but electrifying. Clouds of burning tobacco linger around as you share an intense gaze, creating a solemn, intriguing ambience.
"Well, how am I supposed to tell you, out of all people, that I'm looking to get attended by an older man?" you rag. "Don't you think it's inappropriate?"
"Mhm," his grin is still visible under the dim, warm lights in the kitchen, "clever girl. I see what you're tryin' to do."
"I don't know what you mean," you murmur, scowling and intending to sound clueless.
He doesn't buy it.
"No-uh. You're many things, darlin', but dumb isn't one." He leans forward, his face barely inches away from yours, eyes scanning your features. Eventually, he decides to keep playing your little game. "Why's that, anyway?"
"See, Joel," you blow some smoke right under his nose, "boys I've been with always take. Everything's gotta be about themselves. I've never been the type to believe in relationships, but if they're gonna suck at that too, the least they could do is make you cum, not leave you drier than a fucking desert." Your words daze his mind and he finds himself pending for something that he wasn't supposed to. "Shit- I'm sorry... I shouldn't talk like this."
"Damn right you shouldn't," he rasps out, "what would your dad think if he heard you?"
Joel Miller never considered himself a weak man. Not once in his life. It's not who he is.
But right now, under your curious, passionate gape, he's slowly crumbling.
"Good thing you aren't my dad, then."
His heart is pounding in expectation and confusion. He keeps thinking 'this can't be happening'. He tries to convince himself that it's all in his mind, like he did last time you were in Austin. But you bat your pretty eyelashes at him an it feels like you're begging to be taken away.
"Sweetheart, I don't think you know what you're asking for," he talks strictly, like you wouldn't actually understand. "Say this things to the wrong person and they might take advantage of you."
You laugh under your breath. "Are you the wrong person?"
He remains silent for a couple seconds, contemplating your question, meditating this whole parade in order to keep his head cold and ignoring the increasing heat that soared all around.
"M'not sure," he huffs.
It's true. He doesn't know anymore.
Your cig has burned out.
"I think you are, Mr. Miller."
Oh, such a clever girl indeed.
Suspense is killing him, like he's walking on the edge of a blade. Your closeness is intoxicating, the smell of your perfume gets him dizzy and his skin burned there where your limbs brushed against each other's. His lungs felt like crushing under the weight of anticipation.
"Quit beating around the bush," he downright demands. "Tell me what you want."
Honesty is a virtue; one you didn't lack with him.
"You," his chest puffs with a shaky breath. "Ever since we first met, you've been the only man on my mind."
Dangerous. This whole situation is dangerous.
But Joel would be lying if he said he didn't feel the same. That was the worst part of it.
For little more than a decade he had been perfectly content with his singleness; the sole thought of going on a date being absolutely terrifying. His best friend did try to set him up with a couple of his female acquaintances multiple times; yet he declined or merely accepted out of sympathy, never taking things further than a one night stand. Joel never expected that the one woman that would grasp his attention would be you.
He had never been into younger girls, at least not that young. But there was something enchanting about you. Whether it was your charming smile, your cunning eyes or your confident, determined nature that made all heads turn in your direction when you walked into a place.
Something about you bewitched him.
Perhaps it was none of that and he was simply depraved. Perhaps it was all of that and more.
For all he knew, you could've put a spell on him. Since your last visit, you had been on his mind like a mist that fogged his senses. He felt torn apart by his morals and desires, trying his best to get rid of the ghost of you.
That was until your dad told him you were coming back to stay for an undefined amount of time. What kind of sick game was fate playing with him?
"You tryin' to get me killed?" he locks a snarl behind his teeth.
His cigarette has burned out too.
"I know I'm asking for much," you say, "that I put you in a difficult position. With my dad and all 'at." Swallowing hard, you muster enough courage to raise a hand to his jacket, just laying your palm flat there. He allows it. "So I understand if you say no. You can decline and we’ll just act like nothing happened."
If Joel were a better man, he would've.
He definitely should have.
"It's okay. I can always call the next older lad on my hotline," you joke. "Your brother Tommy... I think he'll be interested."
He'd be damned.
No. Joel was just a man, and like every other, he could only take so much.
Quicker than you'd expect, his hand catches your wrist and moves your arm away from his body, the other raising your head up with two fingers under your chin. His face is so close to yours that his breath tickles your skin.
"Is that so?" his voice drops an octave. "You disappoint me, sweetheart."
Your legs quiver, feeling suddenly weak on the knees and hot on your lower abdomen. "How?"
His thumb sweeps over your bottom lip, staring down at you as if he had you wrapped around his finger. Truth be told, he really did.
"Thought there was a bit more fight in ya'," he whispers, letting go of your hand and laying his palm flat on your hip. "I haven't yet given my answer and you're already thinking of fucking my brother?"
You lick your lips nervously, glancing at his own and then back at his eyes. Your breathing pattern is completely altered and the ache between your legs starts to grow.
"Or was that just to tease me?" he asks with a grin.
"I don't know..." your hands clench in fists, wanting to touch him but wallowing in this new power dynamic. "Maybe."
"That's rather vague, darling." He takes a step forward, eradicating the distance that separated your bodies. "I'll ask again..." his fingers curl around your throat, not applying pressure but merely holding you in place. "What do you want?"
It's too late to look back now. Though you wouldn't think of it. "I want you to fuck me, Joel."
Music to his ears.
He doesn't respond, eyes boring into yours intently. The unholy words that you spoke scatter his brain and all he wants to do is accept. But he wouldn't indulge so easily. If you wanted to play games, he'd teach you how to play better.
You tilt your head upwards, searching for his mouth with limited mobility. Your eyes briefly close at the feeling of your lips barely brushing against his own, waiting for him to kiss you. Except he does not, simply caressing the soft flesh teasingly.
Joel's body is flushed against yours, keeping you caged between the counter and him. The hand that rested on your hip gradually travels to your ass, splaying his fingers over your covered butt and giving a firm squeeze that makes you squeal. Every breath he takes is the very air you breathe. The proximity and his scent are slowly —but surely— making you lose your sanity.
"Such a pretty girl," he mutters hoarsely, "with such filthy thoughts." You look at him through heavy lids, gaining enough courage to move your hands to his broad chest. "What am I gonna do with you?"
"Please, just- kiss me." The plea is so desperate and pathetic that it doesn't even sound like you.
"Can't do," he says at last. "If you want to be treated like a slut, you'll get treated like one. Sluts don't get kissed." You feel yourself get wet with his attitude, trying to clench your thighs together in order to create some friction. "I can't give you what you want, sweetheart. Not tonight, at least."
His lips move to your jawline, tracing open-mouthed kisses along your bare neck and collarbones that have you panting in seconds, his facial hair scratching your skin deliciously before coming back up again.
"But don't worry, angel," he pours into the shell of your ear, "I'll make sure you cum, since you want it so bad."
"Fuck, Joel-" you stutter when he abruptly spins your body around, his growing bulge grinding against your lower back.
His face nuzzles on the crook of your neck as his hand roams over your thigh, leisurely making its way beneath your dress. You feel his teeth lightly scraping your flesh, the hardness of his crotch poking your ass and your own arousal pooling in your panties.
"Jesus..." he groans when his fingers reach the dampness between your legs. "I've barely touched you and you're already soaked."
"I meant it when-" your sentence gets muffled by a strangled moan that escapes your lips, "when I said I've been wanting you for so long."
His body vibrates with a laugh, ruffling your hair with his breath. He starts rubbing small circles on your clit, making your whole body shiver and squirm while he pushes the fabric aside, gathering your slick with his index and spreading it all the way back to your bud, repeating his actions until your arousal covered his knuckles.
"Wanna know a lil' secret?" his voice comes out soothing and husky as he eases two digits inside you, stretching you out in a way that makes both of you groan. "I felt the same."
His fingers are thicker, bigger and rougher than yours, adding to a new, unlocked satisfaction you had not yet experienced.
Joel took his time to explore the spots that provided more pleasure, that had your hips chasing him and biting your lip to refrain from making noise. His other hand gropes your breast, caressing your delicate nipple over the thin fabric, easily done due to the lack of a bra. He keeps altering his ministrations, collecting the wetness from your core and bringing it up to your bundle of nerves, prior to sliding into your cunt again. All that can be heard in the kitchen are the squelching, utterly pornographic sounds of your pussy and your pitiful whines, inaudible to everyone but him.
"You like this, sweetheart?" he hums, feeling your sticky arousal drip down your thighs, rejoicing in your responsiveness to him. "Being fingered by a man twice your age while your dad's just a few steps away?"
You squeeze his thick fingers, picturing just how big his cock must be just from the boner pressing your back. "Y-yes..."
He simply loves the way he's got you so needy, coming undone with so little. You were easy to please, so he wondered how awful your past lovers must've been if they couldn't get you wet. A primal instinct surges on Joel, wanting to erase all of them from your mind, as he wanted to be the only man you ever think about if you're having an orgasm.
"That's my girl," he coos, thrusting his fingers at a nice pace, curling them upwards to hit that soft spot that made your knees tremble.
You hold onto the counter for dear life, throwing your head back and laying it on his chest. He sighs every time your cunt tightens around his digits, mesmerized by your enticing cries and whimpers that had him painfully hard in his jeans. The sensation is overwhelming, adrenaline filling both of you at the prospect of getting caught.
A burning sensation builds on your lower belly, tiny beads of sweat rolling down your temple at the incoming crescendo. His thumb kneads over your clit with the right amount of pressure and your body gives in to him, all tension melting away as your muscles relax.
"Just like that, darling." His deep voice reverberates through you, holding you up by the grip on your waist. "Take what I give you."
"Joel, Joel, Joel-" he chuckles once again at your delirious state, biting down the sensitive skin on your neck as he helps you carry out your high.
He pulls his fingers out and you mewl in complaint, mouth slightly agape. You can't see his face but you watch as he takes both his sticky fingers to his mouth, your chest rising and falling while trying to regain composure. He licks them clean, savoring your sweet taste and feeling his cock twitch from the mere idea of his tongue exploring your folds, taking that same flavor straight from the source.
"I'm not done with you," he growls, swirling your body around.
He's fucked up now. He has found his own, favorite drug between your thighs and can’t seem to stop himself from getting it. He had a small taste and now craved for more like he was a famished man.
"Can I get a kiss now?" Joel finds your insistence amusing.
Those eyes of yours were driving him insane, staring at him wildly, sparkling with an etching desire. Your lips were plumped and glossy, cheeks flushed red and hands fisting his shirt. Seeing this side of you was like displaying one of his darkest fantasies, the kind that would randomly appear in his dreams and had him waking up guilty and needy.
"No," he grumbles, cupping your face in his hand and forcing you to glance up at him. "Open up."
You obligue without hesitation, parting your lips shamelessly— which further spurs him on—. Almost instinctively, you already know what he's going to do, catching that inquiring look in his darkened eyes. With a light tap to his chest, you give him the green light and he spits right into your mouth. You don't think about it twice; in fact, you can't even process what you're actually doing, unconsciously swallowing down while keeping eye contact.
"Good girl," he purrs, caressing the side of your face with gentle stokes of his thumb.
His voice and praise send you to oblivion, managing to give you goosebumps. But Joel won't allow you to catch a break, glueing his lips to the hollow of your throat and making his way down, down, down, until he's kneeling before you, feeling the way you tense and shake for him. He grips your body strongly, the pads of his thumbs dipping on your hipbones as he rests his forehead on your lower abdomen, taking a deep breath in. Your hands run through his curls, tenderly grazing his scalp with your nails. 
The man feels as if he's wasted; your scent, all around him, on him, intoxicating every fiber on his body. He'd be haunted by it, by you, in the upcoming days.
He reaches beneath the hem of your dress, fingers skating along the band of your panties and tugging them down at a tortuous pace, meanwhile his eyes pierce your soul. Joel lets the drenched underwear pool at your ankles and drags the thin, satiny fabric all the way up to your tummy, inhaling sharply at the sight of your sticky slick covering your inner thighs.
"Fuck..." he touches you like you're sacred, like he was granted permission to do so but couldn't fully believe it. "Jesus Christ, you're beautiful," he mumbles when he coaxes your legs apart.
You blush at the comment, growing partially embarrassed. A shadow of pure lust covers his gaze as he stares at your exposed, wet cunt. He basks in the view of your damp skin and swollen clit, feeling his mouth water and his pants strain.
"Joel-"
"Forgive me, darlin'. Been a while since I..." he clears his throat, trying to regain hold of himself, "since I went down on a woman."
Your fingers tangle on his locks and you give him a reassuring smile. "You don't have to-"
"But I want to," Joel blurts out. "I need to taste you, sweetheart. Would you allow me to?"
Did he even need to ask?
"Yes- god. Please..."
It's all he had to hear. He leaves small kisses on your swollen lips, taking pleasure in your silent gasps as his mouth inched closer to your clit. Your hips buck against his face when his tongue finally landed on that sensitive bundle of nerves, making you moan a bit louder.
"Fucking hell," you babble, gripping his hair tighter.
He groans, his tongue flattening above your delicate bud and sucking on it. Joel can see in your face how hard you're trying to refrain from making any noise, your brows slightly furrowed and mouth partially open as you throw your head back. His chest swells with pride, knowing he's the one making you feel this good.
Then you have to hold yourself up when he suddenly hooks one hand around your calf and lifts your leg, placing it over his shoulder to keep you open for him. His face buries between your thighs, tongue sliding across your wet folds and savoring your arousal mixed with your previous release. He uninhibitedly whimpers, lapping up the slick that kept pouring out of you, devouring your pussy like he had never had anything as good.
The man can't take it anymore, he's reached his limit. One of his hands snake down to fumble at his belt, as he sloppily palms his bulge through the briefs, trying to get some relief. He's drunk, feral, when he eats you out most earnestly, finding your weak spots rather quickly— the ones that made you shiver, that made you shut your eyes from sheer pleasure or grind against his face, but specially the ones that had you tugging harshly at his hair.
"Joel- please, I'm so close..." you cry out lowly, the only thing that kept you standing being his hand on your waist.
His beard makes your skin feel feverish and it's nearly impossible for you to hold back a whine when his nose grazes your clit and right in that instant you're coming hard, nerves buzzing and ears ringing. You feel lightheaded, white spots appearing in front of your eyes as the orgasm rips through you intensely. He drinks you down, licking you clean as if it was a crime not to, and you gasp at the overstimulation.
He helps you steady yourself as he gets back on his feet, hovering above you. His lips were shining with saliva and your own juices, dripping down to his chin. You breathe rapidly, pulse still racing while you look up at him with glassy eyes.
It's right in this moment when Joel knows for certain that he'd do it all again, consequences be damned.
If he was going to hell for what he'd done, then he would gladly do it, knowing that he had seen heaven the moment his tongue was inside you.
"Did I live up to your expectations, sweetheart?"
Instead of replying, your hand shoots to his jaw, the pad of your thumb brushing over his bottom lip. He lets out a shaky exhale and you don't miss the opportunity to finally lean in for a kiss. And despite his previous declines to your wish, Joel happily corresponded. You taste him and yourself when his mouth explores yours in depth, feeling his unsteady heartbeat against your own chest.
It's madness; a blur of wet, messy kisses as your hand coasts down his pants and underneath his briefs. You swallow down his lewd moans when you grasp his throbbing length, a deep groan coming from his throat when you circle the tip with one finger, coating it with his leaking precome. He takes your wrist to prevent you from going any further.
"Enough of that," he grunts, still not pushing your hand away. "I'm too worked up, I don't wanna be coming in my pants like a goddamned teenager."
You respect his decision, drawing your hand back and guiding your fingers to your lips with a cheeky smile. Fucking tease.
"I think it'd be hot," you murmur, dragging the words and leaning next to his ear. "Maybe afterwards I can help you clean up the mess..." you carefully nip at his earlobe, delighting in the way his body jumped and a sigh escaped him. "With my mou-"
"Fuuuck..." the mental image you were describing was not helping his situation. "We- we’ll do that next time.”
And before you can move a muscle, he gives you a soft forehead kiss and rearranges his pants, asking you to say goodbye to your dad in his behalf as he sneaked out. You stand there for a couple of minutes, dumbfounded and completely blown away from your post-orgasm bliss, still processing that all this had actually happened and it was not just another of your sexual fantasies and daydreams.
Joel was in a similar position. In spite of taking a cold shower and fucking his fist in the meantime, tonight's events kept being relived every time he closed his eyes, making him yearn for you all over again. It was a tough night of not much sleeping.
He thinks he might feel guilty in the morning.
Maybe he should. But he honestly doesn't.
Not even when he faces your dad the next day and he tells him how happy he is to have his darling daughter back home.
Nor do you. There's not a hint of guilt in your body when you go to his house in the next few days, solely to spend time with Sarah. No shame in the looks you share, regardless of the little to zero time you could spend together, always being surrounded by other people.
None of that mattered. All the while, the only question that roams your minds is: when will you do it again?
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amatchinwater · 2 years
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I Know What You Want From Me / Eddie Munson x fem!reader
Summary: Song fic of 18 by Anarbor, your parents kick you out when you tell them you can't be with Jason because you're already dating Eddie...except that you aren't. So now you have to go to Eddie after not speaking for years and ask to not only live with him, but pretend to date you too. What could possibly go wrong there?
Warnings: 18+, explicit sexual content, fingering, oral (f receiving), p in v sex, semi-public sex (they're in the woods), squirting, unprotected sex (reader on pill, but not stated until after), cream pie, choking, spanking, protective reader (Jason gets his shit rocked), angst with a happy ending, fluff, protective Eddie, reader's parents are awful
Words: 9746 (oops?)
a/n: I feel like I've been working on this forever and a day. With the finale, I had to stop because angst wasn't something I could handle just yet. But the fluff and ending makes the angst worth it. Requests are still open.
Master list
Part 2
Not my gif!! Credit to the lovely @msmischief101
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It’s been a long time since you’ve pulled into Forest Hills Trailer Park. A really long fucking time. Part of you wants to turn around, just get on the highway and never look back at this godforsaken town and their prejudiced beliefs. That having money and a pristine lifestyle makes you worth something. It’s bullshit. And you fucking hate it. And you want out. Hell, your bags are already packed in the backseat behind you.
You’re eighteen, legally, if you really wanted to, you could run. Run as far away from not only Hawkins, but Indiana in general. Now that you’re eighteen, you have a sizable trust fund. Your father wanted to rescind your rights to it. Change it to where you’d only see a penny once you were twenty-one. Or worse; married. Somehow your mother convinced him not to do that, that you’d be able to use the money for college. 
You’re not even sure you want to do that either. 
But there was one person in your life who told you that no matter what you did, they’d always stick beside you. While that statement hasn’t held true these last six years or so, it was far from it being his fault. No, you shamefully hold that crown. 
Once you started to rise up the social ladder in school and your father got a big time promotion at work, your parents forced the social debutant bullshit on you. You hated every single second of it. Every one of those dumb parties they dragged you to. The dinners and get-togethers. They all sucked. And everyone there was so vapid and full of themselves, you wanted to scream. 
Now that you’re eighteen and “supposed” to be looking at prestigious colleges for some job you’ll never want, your parents did the worst thing imaginable. They tried to set you up. Quite literally wanted to give you an arranged marriage. God, the look your father gave you like it was supposed to be some wonderful gift you should be grateful for. As if being pawned off to someone like Jason Carver is to be coveted. 
Fuck that. 
So you did something really stupid. Like, really stupid. You told them that you couldn’t be with Jason because you were already with someone else. You’d hoped it would just be enough to make them drop the issue. It wasn’t. They poked and prodded until you gave them a name. You told them the only person in Hawkins you could even remotely think of. 
Eddie Munson. 
The conversation with your parents was pretty short after that. Being told to pack your bags and not come back if you wanted to align yourself with “someone like him.” That if you were grown up enough to make your choices, to go live with him and see how long it lasts, and not to come crying to them when you wind up pregnant. 
You did exactly that. Grabbed everything you felt couldn’t be replaced and left. But for some reason, instead of just driving towards the town limit and getting the fuck out of dodge, you found yourself on your way to the trailer you used to spend a good chunk of your childhood in. 
Because you grew up there. You were once neighbors- something your parents try very hard to forget- and childhood best friends. You used to be on a first name basis with Wayne. And despite what everyone says about him, that he’s a freak or the satanist propaganda, you know Eddie. Knew Eddie. So maybe there was some small part of you that hoped Eddie was still that sweet kid at heart and would let you crash for a few months until graduation and then you could leave Hawkins for good. 
It was a stupid idea from the start. One not fully formulated or even properly processed. 
But here you are, pulling up to the familiar, yet foreign trailer with Eddie’s van parked right out front. And of course it’s pouring rain. The day your life goes to shit wouldn’t be a nice, calm evening. No. When have you ever been that lucky? When is anyone that lucky? 
Turning the engine off, you sit and listen to the rain patter against the roof of your car. Contemplating leaving again. Maybe the real reason you came here was so that you would be convinced to stay. Eddie has never been one to run from his problems. The bloody nose he gave Jason a year ago for taking a swing on him is proof of that. So maybe you really want someone to tell you to man the fuck up and grab life by the balls or some shit. 
Just some strange words that manage to sound inspiring because they’re coming from Eddie’s goofy grin. 
“Fuck it,” you grind your teeth, shoving your door open and stepping out into the storm, wincing when the freezing water sinks into your skin. “Shit, shit, shit,” you jog up to his front door, thankful for the awning over the porch. Not letting yourself be talked out of this, you pound on the door to be heard over Shout at the Devil being blasted from Eddie’s room. 
“Henderson, I already told you-” Eddie’s yelling as he yanks open the front door, “-you’re not Henderson.” 
“No,” you shiver, hands rubbing your arms. How did you possibly get drenched in the ten steps it took you to get from the car to his door? Eddie’s features are guarded and you can’t help but shiver again. From the cold or his stare, you’re not really sure. Maybe you should just leave. The highway is sounding more and more tempting. “I should just-” you trail off, gesturing back towards your car.
Eddie finally takes a look at your state and his eyes widen, furrowed eyebrows losing their tension, “no, come in,” he opens the door further. “I-I’ll get you a towel,” Eddie runs off. 
Shaky bones carry you over the threshold, goosebumps only getting angrier at the warmth of the trailer. It looks exactly like it did the last time you were here. Except maybe a few more hats have joined the collection on the wall. Eddie comes back with two towels, placing one on the couch and offering you the other. “Thanks,” you take it, toweling your hair before wrapping it around your shoulders, sitting on the one he’d set down for you. “I’m sorry to just barge in like this,” your eyes begin to burn with tears. 
“What happened? Are you okay?” Eddie sits beside you and you can practically feel his warmth radiating off of him. That's how cold you are. 
“I did something really stupid,” you admit, shaking your head, wanting to curl up in a hole. “My parents want to hand me over to Jason. Pretty bow and everything,” you choke out a laugh. “Like I’m some prized trophy wife or some shit.” 
“Jesus Christ,” Eddie nearly shouts. You laugh sarcastically, nodding your head. His face twists, “but hang on, that’s a stupid thing they did. What stupid thing did you do?”
You fiddle with the fraying corner of the towel, dropping your gaze to your lap, “I told them that I couldn’t be with Jason.”
“That doesn’t seem stu-”
“Because I’m in a relationship with you,” you pull your head back up, meeting deer in the headlight brown eyes and a slack jaw. Nerves make your tongue ramble, “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I told them that. You were the first person that came to mind when they wouldn’t stop asking me who could be more important than Jason. And I just- I didn’t know what to do. So I just thought- I don’t know what I thought. But w-we used to be best friends once, I-”
“Yeah, once,” Eddie tongue in cheek scoffs, “then you got popular and I didn’t matter anymore. So, what? You thought you would just come here and I would live up to this fantasy relationship? Because it’s you?”
Your head drops again, “they told me if I wanted to be with you that badly that I should go live with you. That they didn’t recognize their daughter anymore. They kicked me out, or maybe I just ran. I don’t know, Eddie, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to drag you into this.” Tears spill from your eyes, when you look back up at him, “I’ll just get back in the car and leave town like I should’ve done in the first place. I’m sorry,” you take the towel off your shoulders and place it in his lap, getting up off the couch. 
You make it all of three steps until Eddie’s hand wraps around your wrist, “wait.” He sighs as you turn to face him. “Let me get this straight, you told your parents you were dating me because I was the only person you could think of that was better than Jason?” 
Rolling your eyes, you scoff, “well, duh.” It might have been instinct that made you say it, doesn’t make it any less true. Jason doesn’t hold a candle to Eddie in any situation. Not to you. Years of separation be damned. 
“And you now have nowhere to live?” You shake your head no. Eddie sighs again, “I’ll do it.” 
“W-what?” You ask. Because surely you heard him wrong. Eddie doesn’t owe you a fucking thing. “What do you mean you’ll do it?” 
“I’ll help you keep this facade that we’re dating for the sake of your parents and Jason,” he sneers at the name. “Move in here with me, Wayne won’t mind. He still asks about you from time to time, I’m sure he’d love the idea. And then, when you graduate, you’re free to do whatever you want.”
Blinking rapidly, you nearly stumble backwards. Shocked that Eddie would do this. “Why?”
“Your parents are assholes,” Eddie laughs and you do too. He’s far from wrong. “Pissing them off by pretending to date you and giving you a safe place to live? Fuck yeah, I’ll do it. Besides, I’m sure if they told you about it, Jason already knows. Which means I get to make that asshole jealous. It’s a win-win.” He laughs again, softer this time along with his smile. “And you’re right. We were best friends once, maybe we could be again.” 
“I really don’t give a fuck what Jason or my parents think, Eddie. I’m just sick of them thinking that they can control me,” you tell him. “But if giving them the finger is enough incentive for you, then I appreciate it. For what it’s worth, I really miss having you as my best friend.” 
“Me too,” he smiles, pulling you into a hug. “How about you go take a shower and I’ll make you some hot chocolate. Booze free this time,” Eddie chuckles.
You laugh, remembering when you were younger and neither of you thought Wayne would notice the vodka two twelve year olds put in their drinks. “Honestly, I probably wouldn’t mind it this time around,” you pull away. 
“Comin' right up,” Eddie grins, heading into the kitchen while you go down the hallway. 
Stopping at the bathroom you poke your head around the corner, “hey, Eds.” He stops humming, milk hoovering the pot, quirking an eyebrow at you. “Thank you,” you smile, tucking into the bathroom to shower off before he can answer. 
At school the next day, you’re not really sure what to expect. Eddie drove you in his van and you were given more than a few looks from people you don’t even know. Which were thankfully easy enough to ignore. Somehow you’re also lucky enough that all of your classes before lunch didn’t have a single one of your “friends” either. Friends meaning Jason’s friends who were nice to you because you had money and a pretty face. 
But your actual lunch period? Practically the entire basketball team shared the same block as you. And the second you walk out of the lunch line, Jason immediately finds you. You’re wearing darker clothes and have certainly kept your head down. How the fuck did he find you so fast? 
“Hey, I’ve been looking for you everywhere,” he smiles with too much teeth. Voice so sweet it’s sickening. 
“Should’ve hid better,” you mumble, clutching your tray to your chest to keep a barrier between the two of you. “Did you need something?” You ask, eyes scanning the room to find literally anyone you could run to to save you from this. You find Eddie’s friends from Hellfire all around the table, but no sign of Eddie himself. You know their names thanks to Eddie telling you about them last night. But you don’t really think you can just go up to them for help. 
“Well, I was talking to your parents the other day,” he pushes his hands farther into his letterman jacket pockets, ducking his head to appear coy. “I was hoping you’d like to go on a date with-”
An arm snakes around your waist and you nearly jump out of your skin, until you hear, “there you are, babe.” Eddie curls you close to him, kissing the side of your head, “you ready to go sit?” 
You turn to him with a grateful smile, ready to answer, but someone else’s words come out. 
“What the fuck is this?” Jason snaps. 
“I’m sure you know Eddie,” you smile sweetly, fighting the eye roll at the jock before you. “My boyfriend,” you state, loving the way Jason’s eyes are ready to bulge out of his head. Eddie chuckles smugly beside you, his grip tightening only just. You’re actually glad he’s getting something out of this too. Even if it’s just shoving it in Jason’s face. Makes it feel like you’re not using him.
“I thought they were joking!” Jason seethes, “you’re seriously with this freak? You chose him over me? A freak?” 
“Eds, could you hold this please?” You extend your tray towards him, which he takes with a confused expression. “Thanks,” you kiss his cheek, turning your attention back to the blonde. “One, no, it’s not a fucking joke. Two, he’s not a freak. And three,” you slap Jason right across the cheek with a resounding crack, silencing the cafeteria. “If I hear you say some shit like that about him again, you’ll be lucky a slap is all you get. Fuck off, Jason.” 
“Holy shit,” Eddie sputters a laugh, “that was fucking awesome!” Wrapping an arm around your shoulder, Eddie walks you towards the Hellfire table, neither of you caring about the grumbling jock behind you. Or the hushed chatter that’s fallen over the cafeteria. “And here I thought I was the one coming to your rescue,” he teases, placing your tray on the table surrounded by his wide eyed friends. “Come here,” Eddie sits down, his arms locking around your waist to pull you into his lap. “Thank you.”
“I’m your girlfriend, Eddie,” you remind him. Though it’s just for show, it doesn't mean that you’re not going to act the way a proper girlfriend should. Defending your boyfriend from an asshole definitely fits the bill. “I’m not going to stand by and let someone talk about you like that.” 
“So I definitely heard that right?” Dustin, if you remember correctly, stares at you two. “You two are dating? Since when?” He shrieks. 
You freeze for a second, you hadn’t thought that through. 
“For a few months now,” Eddie offers, his thumb rubbing reassuring circles on your waist. “Her parents are pretty strict," he rests his chin on your shoulder, humming in contemplation, "so we’ve been keeping it quiet for a bit. But, she was ready to go public with it.” 
“Slapping Carver in front of the whole cafeteria is pretty public,” Jeff laughs, “and pretty sick!” He offers his fist to you. 
You can’t help but laugh, feeling welcome at their table as you reciprocate the fist bump. It’s actually really nice. 
“My girl doesn’t mess around,” Eddie turns, kissing your neck. 
Maybe you two should’ve gone over some boundaries. Because that felt a lot better than it should’ve and you two aren’t even technically together. But then you remember that everyone is supposed to believe this so that Jason and your parents leave you alone. If even anyone suspects it’s not and word gets out that this isn’t real- you shiver at the very thought. And the way Eddie said ‘my girl’ sent a whole different kind of tremor down your spine. 
What have you gotten yourself into?
Somehow you managed to survive the first two weeks of publicly “dating” Eddie. Jason for the most part has left you alone and you haven’t seen or heard from your parents either. It’s so freeing. It makes you wish that you had stuck to your guns when you guys had moved out of the trailer park and kept Eddie in your life. Even listening to them and doing everything they wanted, they still turned around and did the worst thing imaginable. So what else could they have really done if you’d stuck by Eddie’s side the whole time? 
It’s too late to know now, but at least you can make up for the lost time by being here now. Eddie doesn’t seem to mind it. The dinners you share while Wayne is at work. The hasty breakfasts the three of you share in the mornings before school. The weekends though, the weekends are your favorite. Because unless Corroded Coffin has a gig, you and Eddie just hang out at the trailer together. 
“What did you wanna do today?” You ask, flopping down on the couch beside Eddie and throwing your legs on his lap. 
Rubbing your exposed calves, he purses his lips, “I was thinking I should probably take you on a date.” Eddie leans his head on the backrest of the couch to look at you. “You’ve been living here for two weeks now. While it’s all good and well that we’ve been annoying the living hell out of Jason at school, you know how people in this town love to gossip.” 
“Okay,” you draw out the word, furrowing your brows. Not really understanding why Eddie is willingly wanting to be with you romantically outside of school. That would make this feel real. You’d definitely feel like you were using him if you did that. 
“If people see us walking around town together, I’m sure word would get back to your parents.” Eddie pats your leg, “Jason isn’t the only one we’re supposed to be convincing, right?” 
He’s got a point. If your parents get a whiff of this relationship’s fallacies, they’ll drag you back home kicking and screaming. “What’d you have in mind?” You ask, warming up to the idea quickly. 
“There’s a double-feature of Nightmare on Elm Street at the theater tonight,” he shrugs, tracing shapeless designs on your skin. “We could do that and then walk around town with ice cream or some shit. That’s a couple-y thing to do, right?” 
You smile brightly, basking in his shyness. “That sounds really nice, Eds,’ you nudge him with your foot. “Most girls would swoon over a date like that. Well, they’d fight for some romantic movie. But I’m so down for Freddy. When does it start?” 
“About an hour.” 
“I’ll go get ready!” You hop up from the couch, practically running out of the living room, leaving Eddie chuckling on the couch. 
“Thank you,” you hear Eddie say, grabbing your ice cream cones from the girl behind the window of the cute little ice cream shop in town. “M’Lady,” he offers you your chocolate peanut butter scoops, holding his now free hand out for you to hold while you walk back to the van. He’d left it parked by the theater so you could have the whole ‘experience’ of a date. Eddie is just as serious as you are about making this seem real.
He’d even apologized to you for the neck kiss and you sitting in his lap. Explaining to you that he’s a pretty tactile person, that he’s only acting how he would if he was actually dating someone. He was adamant in you telling him if he makes you uncomfortable- he doesn't. Your heart throbbed painfully in your chest that you’re keeping some girl from being in an amazing relationship with such a sweet guy. Even more so when there’s an even worse pang at the thought that you don’t have this for real for yourself either. That this thing you have going with Eddie is fake. 
There’s this small part of you wondering if this could be real. 
“Thanks,” you smile, taking his hand, licking the creamy goodness. Eddie laughs a little at you while you’re walking and eating your desserts. “What?” You ask, licking your lips. 
“You got a little-” Eddie gestures towards your face. A group of girls walk past you arm in arm and Eddie smiles, “here, let me.” He leans in and kisses you, tongue brushing along your bottom lip for the smallest of seconds. Enough to send a shiver down your spine that certainly can’t be explained by the ice cream when his mouth is so warm. “Better,” he grins again, dragging his thumb from the corner of your mouth. 
There’s a blush violently burning your cheeks as you blink rapidly. You don’t even know what to say, so you turn your head, biting away a smile and reclaiming his hand to walk down the road again. “Thank you for tonight,” you say, tossing your napkin in the trash as you pass it. “It-” you pause, thinking you heard someone call your name. Shaking it off you try again, “it was really nice. So, thank you.” 
“Of course,” he drops your hand to wrap his arm around your shoulder, pulling you close to his side. Kissing the side of your head, Eddie says, “I’m glad you had a good time. Enough people are out tonight so-”
“Y/N!” 
You definitely heard it that time. Eddie did too. Whipping around, you see your parents stalking their way towards the two of you. Speak of the devil, right? “Fuck,” you curse under your breath, anxiety stowing only just at the protective way Eddie tightens his hold around you. 
“Say the word and we run, okay?” He whispers in your ear, "I've got you." 
All you can do is nod as your parents come to a halt in front of you. Your father barely even looking at you, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. Your mom on the other hand can’t decide who to set her daggers for eyes on, you or Eddie. 
“Mrs-”
“Don’t.” Your mother holds her finger up at him, “you don’t get to talk.”
“Excuse me?” You sputter out.
“And you,” she sets her fury on you now, “it’s time for you to come home young lady. Enough playing house with him,” you mom can’t even say his name, yet the word holds the same amount of venom. “This isn’t you. Please, just come home and all will be forgiven.” 
Anger boils inside of you. Not asking how you are or caring if you’re happy. Just more of them telling you that you’re ‘not yourself’ and you’re so over it. “Fuck that,” you snap. “I’m not going anywhere with you. My home is with Eddie. Yeah, he has a name, mom,” you lace the word with as much disdain as she’d offered him. Shocking her to her core not only from your language, but your behavior. Good. You finally feel like yourself.
“Then we’ll cut you off,” your dad’s stern voice cuts in. “See how long it takes you to come crawling back with no money.” 
“First of all,” you square your shoulders, “both Eddie and Wayne make money. Second,” you chuckle dryly, “you’re really going to love this. I went to the bank. I’m eighteen now in case you forgot. I transferred everything into my own account. That money is mine. But if it means more to you than your own daughter, I’ll gladly give it back. I can very easily get a job. I don’t need anything from you.” 
Your father puffs his chest, “listen here-”
“No, I think it’s time you listen,” Eddie cuts him off. “There is absolutely nothing wrong with her or how she chooses to live her life. She is fucking incredible! And there's definitely no thanks to you fucking assholes. She’s an adult and capable of making her own decisions. And unlike you, I’d never hurt her or force her to do something she doesn’t want to. You want to stay with me, right?” He looks over at you.
It’s rhetorical, you're almost certain. But you answer it anyway, “absolutely.” 
“There is it,” Eddie grins widely, opening his arms at your parents. “She’s made her choice.”
“Let’s get out of here,” you pull gently on Eddie’s jacket, trying to coax him away. Eddie death glares at your father, but starts moving with you, only turning once you’ve yanked a little harder. 
“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” Your father snaps, his hand grabbing your arm tight enough to hurt. 
You whip your head around to face him, seething, “let go of me.” Eddie looks furious, ready to punch him in the face and honestly, you’d probably let him. But that’s more of a scene than you’re willing to cause right now. You won’t let Eddie get in trouble over you. When your dad makes no move to let go of you, you say, “let me go or I’ll scream.” 
He drops your arm as though it’d burned him, whispering your name with hurt eyes. 
“Come on, princess,” Eddie’s arm curls back around your shoulders, keeping you close. No longer face to face with your parents, your chest tightens and your eyes burn. Not because you miss them, but all of your emotions have boiled over, demanding release through tears. “Wait just a minute more,” Eddie rubs his nose in your hair, “don’t give them the satisfaction.” He opens the passenger door for you and you crawl inside. 
The second he’s settled in his seat, the tears fall freely. “I’m sorry they said that to you,” you sob, chest constricting. 
“Why are you apologizing to me?” He stares at you wide eyed, speaking softly. “I should’ve punched him in the face for what he said to you, are you kidding?” Eddie reaches over, cupping your face and wiping your tears with his thumbs. “No one should talk about you like that. Especially not your parents.” 
“Can we just go home please?” You ask, hoping sheer willpower will make your tears cease. Your eyes already feel sore. 
“Of course,” he rubs your cheeks again, leaning closer to kiss your forehead. “Here,” Eddie pulls his leather jacket off, handing it to you, “you’re shaking.” 
You smile softly, sliding your arms through the sleeves, the scent of Eddie so close calming you down enough that the tears well up, but don’t fall. It’s one thing to defend Eddie from some dickhead jock like Jason. Watching him stand up for you to your own parents, treating you vastly better than they ever have? Heartwarming doesn’t even come close.
“Do you need anything?” Eddie asks after you’ve showered and are just sitting up in bed, he’s changed into sweats now and a faded Metallica shirt. 
“Not unless you have something that can make my mind be quiet long enough to let me sleep,” you answer, curling your legs to your chest and holding them. 
Eddie purses his lips, “I could roll us a joint,” he offers. “I usually smoke before going to sleep. It could help. Only if you want to.” 
“I’ve never smoked before,” you whisper, embarrassed by the fact that you’re ‘dating’ a drug dealer, yet have never done any yourself. “But I trust you,” you try to smile, but it falls flat. Still a little too upset over earlier. “I’m willing to try if you think it will help.” 
“Best sleep you’ve had in a while,” Eddie smiles, walking over to his dresser, grabbing a wooden box from the drawer. “Are you sure?” He asks one more time, sitting down beside you, “I don’t want you to think I’m pressuring you or anything.” 
“You’re not,” your smile is genuine this time, “I’m sure.” You stare at his fingers while Eddie pinches the weed into the thin paper. If you weren’t so upset, your brain would probably short circuit at the way his tongue glides along the edge. That shouldn’t be allowed to look like that. 
After he takes two puffs of his own, he hands the joint to you, blowing the smoke out. “You might want to take small hits,” Eddie suggests when you bring the rolled paper to your lips. “Small hits,” he repeats, hopping up from the bed, “I’m gonna get us a drink real quick. Small,” Eddie enunciates. 
You don’t really know what’s considered a small hit, so you inhale maybe halfway, doing your best to hold the smoke in your lungs before letting it out. A cough bubbles in your chest that burns nearly as much as the weed. Eddie comes back just in time with a can of soda for you. Cracking it open with a fond smile on his lips, he tosses some snacks on the bed beside you. “Not as bad as I thought,” you say after taking a sip. You take another hit, handing it back to Eddie once he’s seated. 
“Are you going to be okay?” He asks, squinting around the smoke trying to go in his eyes. 
With a heavy sigh, you prop yourself on the wall beside the bed, “I think so? I’m not even sure why I cried to be honest. They suck and I don’t know why I expected them to react any differently than that. I’m more angry about the way they treated you.” You take the joint back from him, Eddie scooting over until your thighs and arms are pressed together. Pulling the smoke into your lungs, you appreciate it not burning as badly as the first time around. Enough to take a bigger hit, “this is definitely helping. So are you,” you whisper. 
Eddie nudges you with his arm, “happy to help. You’re my best friend and I’m always going to be here to take care of you. Until you get sick of me that is,” he teases.
Laughter bubbles in your chest, your cheeks hurting from how much you're smiling. Whether that’s the weed or just Eddie in general doesn’t really matter to you. “Aww,” you coo, absolutely certain that your newfound confidence is from the drug, “I don’t think I could get sick of you, Eddie.” You tell him, playing with a lock of his hair, surprised when he doesn’t tell you to stop. “I’m really grateful for everything you’re doing. And I meant it, I don’t expect you and Wayne to take care of me for free. I’ll get a job if it comes down to it.” 
“Please,” he snickers, handing the roach to you to finish off, “Wayne is overjoyed that you’re here.” Eddie wraps his arm around your shoulder and you tuck your head into his neck. “If there was mention of you leaving, he’d probably pay you to stay. He really did miss having you around. I think he secretly always wanted a daughter.” He takes the almost burnt paper and places it in the ashtray by the bed. 
“But he got the metal head outcast with a heart of gold instead,” you smile though he can’t see it. “Just-” you huff a small breath, “thank you, Eddie. For everything.” 
Eddie kisses the side of your head, “of course, princess.” Too high to care, you giggle at the name shooting warmth throughout your system, but it’s broken off with a loud yawn. “Looks like I’ve done my job,” he chuckles softly, “I’ll let you get some sleep.”
You lay down on the pillow, pulling the blanket over you, but when Eddie tries to get up, you reach out and grab his hand. “Eddie?” 
“Yeah?” He whispers, soft eyes looking over your tired face. 
“Could you-” you swallow the barrier in your throat in the form of nerves. “Will you stay with me? I don’t really want to be alone right now,” your voice barely above a whisper. 
Eddie smiles softly, his thumb brushing along your knuckles, “yeah. Yeah, I can do that.” He lets go of your hand so you can move over to give him some room to lay down beside you. The moment his back touches the bed, you curl up to him, resting your head on his chest. A contented sigh sounding off listening to his heartbeat in your ear, along with a dopey smile on your face. “Better?” He teases, though his arms wrap around you, one hand rubbing your back while the other plays with your hair. 
“Thank you,” you mumble, already falling asleep. 
Controlling your emotions seems to get harder and harder the longer this plays out. Having Eddie back in your life is honestly the best thing that’s ever happened to you. And you couldn’t be more grateful for him. Not just for having him as your best friend again. But over the last month and half, your heart thought it would be a really good idea to evacuate your chest and take home inside his. Graduation was supposed to be the light at the end of the tunnel. Now it just seems like an ominous deadline.
The day you lose Eddie. 
You’re far from ready for that. In fact, being with Eddie, actually being with Eddie, doesn’t seem like all that bad of an idea. But this was supposed to be temporary, even for him. How in the hell are you supposed to propose that? It’s not like Eddie has shown you any hint that he’d want this to be anything but an act. At home, he’s just your friend. Aside from getting high together, he sleeps on the couch so that you can have the bed. 
What you should be focusing on is the book in your hands while the group plays through their session. But your eyes keep trailing back to the head of the table. Eddie, Dungeon Master himself, sitting on his throne while having the time of his life. He truly is a novelty to watch like this. Carefree and enjoying himself. It’s amazing. 
“NO!” Dustin yells, startling Pet Semetery right out of your hands. 
Usually you’re better at not jumping from their antics, but the teen does not sound happy. Meanwhile Eddie is cackling and knocks a piece off the board. Flicking your eyes around the table, you notice it was the last piece standing aside from the one indicating the monster the group had been fighting. They lost. 
“Another ruthless, unbeatable campaign?” You muse, looking at your thrilled ‘boyfriend’ while everyone gathers their things to leave.
“Always, princess,” Eddie bounds over to you, leaning on the armrests of your chair, “always.” The doors close, leaving you two alone. “Don’t act like you didn’t help.” 
Narrowing your eyes playfully, you look up at him, “yeah, I thought they’d at least have a chance though.” 
“You’re far too devious for anyone to stand a chance,” Eddie closes the distance and kisses you. 
Instinct and pure want for him, you kiss back for a moment. Pulling away with immense effort, speaking with a small voice, “no one’s here, Eds,” you whisper. “You don’t have to act like you want to kiss me,” you say, trying to gauge how he might feel about the situation. He just kissed you after you both heard the doors close. But you also don’t want to get your hopes up too high either. That there could be a reality where Eddie wants to be with you for real too. 
“Yeah,” he clears his throat, his face unreadable, “you’re right. Sorry,” he clears his throat again, “let’s go home.” 
When you grab your book and stand up, Eddie heads for the door, keeping a step or two of distance between you. Is this just how he would act if you guys weren’t pretending to be together? Because when you’re alone, he’s not this cold. Silent. Or did what you say upset him?
Even when you make it to his van and he opens the door for you and you mutter, “thanks,” all Eddie does is offer a pinched smile. 
His silence continues the entire drive home. Eddie doesn’t even sing along to the music he plays. Nor does he drum his hands on the steering wheel. It’s putting you on edge and you want to say something so badly. But you also don’t want to risk actually pissing him off either. So, you follow his lead. Not saying a word while he drives you both home. 
Things don’t get much brighter from then on either. Eddie follows you into the bedroom, grabs his acoustic guitar, and goes right back into the living room. You are absolutely not going to sit in bed and cry about change in behavior. Not at all. You’re going to do it in the shower so there’s no chance of Eddie hearing you, like a smart person. 
Smart, right. 
If you were so smart you’d tell Eddie how you really feel. 
“Are you coming to band practice today?” Eddie asks you while you’re putting some mascara on in the bathroom. “You don’t have to, if you don’t want to,” he scratches the back of his head, “the guys do love it when you come though.” 
“Just the guys?” The teased question spills from your lips before you’d even had a chance to filter them out. But it’s out in the air now.
Eddie grins for the smallest of seconds, “I like when you watch us too. You actually give us honest opinions. Will you come?” 
“Can you give me two more minutes?” You ask, waving the mascara brush around, “I’m almost done.” 
“Take your time,” he smiles, jabbing a thumb over his shoulder, “I’ll be out in the van.” 
Quickly, you finish your makeup and go back into the room to get your shoes on. Not wanting to wear a bra, you find one of Eddie’s hoodies and throw it on over your thin shirt. You’ve never seen him wear it, but his spicy cologne rests on the fabric. You allow yourself a moment to bring to sleeves that barely let your fingers peek out of it to your nose to breathe him in. The cologne, the smoke, the very essence of Eddie. Pretending that his arms are wrapped around you instead of his clothes. 
Not wanting to take too long, you snatch the book off the bed and run out the trailer to meet Eddie in the van. 
You sit through the covers of Iron Maiden and Motley Crue while you read your book. They’re actually really good and you do enjoy listening to them. It’s always nice to see Eddie in his element. Happy and perfectly himself. It isn’t until he mentions something about playing a new one that you start to pay attention a little more. It’s different from what they usually play, and has to be an original because you don’t recognize it either and can’t imagine any other voice than Eddie’s singing it. 
Then the chorus hits, and they have your full attention.
“So if you wanna piss off your parents, date me to scare them, show them you’re all grown up,” Eddie sings, his words the night you ran to him echoing in your head alongside the lyrics. “If long hair and tattoos are what attract you, baby, then you’re in luck.” 
Eddie wrote a song about you. Eddie wrote a fucking song about you! But your eyebrows furrow, because it doesn’t sound all that nice, to be honest. Like he’s letting his frustration out through it. You told him you didn’t care about what your parents thought, assuming that was just the incentive for him going through with this.
“You know, I’m broke, so you pulled out your Daddy’s card,” he continues with the song. The memory of you two grocery shopping together flickering in your brain. 
You had wanted to make dinner for him one night as a thank you, but couldn’t find much in his kitchen. He’d told you Wayne didn’t get paid until the weekend and that all his money from dealing went to take out. You promptly dragged him to the store and bought enough food to stock the entire kitchen. Yes, you even made sure he- and you when you chose to partake- had plenty of munchies around too. 
“Should’ve seen this coming from a mile away,” Eddie hasn’t looked at you once the entire time he sings. The rest of the guys just seem to be jamming out. Except Gareth, his face starts to twist, something mixed with confusion and understanding, his drumsticks almost falter. “I’ll play your game. I know what you want from me.” 
But this- this isn’t a game to you. Eddie isn’t a game to you. In its bones, it’s a great song. But your eyes are burning. Blurring with tears as the song goes on. Every lyric a knife to your heart. 
“And I know it’s just a phase, you’re not in love with me,” Eddie finally looks at you as a tear falls from your eye. You quickly wipe it away, seeing the same pain reflected in his big, brown eyes. “And I know it’s just a phase, you’re not in love with me. You wanna piss off your parents, baby. Piss off your parents, that’s alright with me.” 
The song ends and you hastily wipe the rest of your tears away, ducking your head back into your book so the rest of the guys don’t notice them. It’s bad enough that Eddie saw them. You knew you should’ve said something to him last night when he kissed you. You fucking knew it. And now you’ve hurt him. Hurt Eddie enough that he wrote a song to express himself. You feel like the biggest jerk there is. 
Something told you that you needed to drive yourself to school today. Eddie didn’t question it. You guys had another silent night at home. Didn’t talk about the song or confess your love to him. But you did decide that you will be doing that today. You just needed to have a moment to sort the words in your head into cohesive sentences. 
Then lunch rolled around and Eddie mentioned he’d be meeting Jason in the woods after school to sell to him. That sounded really fucking weird to you, he just waved off your concerns. But you also heard about Chrissy buying from Eddie too, so you didn’t think anything of it if he didn’t either. It wasn’t until you were walking to your last class that you happened to pass Jason in the halls talking to his friends about how they were going to jump Eddie when they met up that it all made sense. 
Why you wanted to bring your car. Why the whole concept of Jason buying drugs didn’t sit right with you. You skipped your last class to wait near the spot they’d meet. Your baseball bat sitting in your passenger seat. You’re not about to just let Jason hurt Eddie. But you’re also not an idiot. You watch from your hiding spot while Eddie sits on the bench waiting for the unknown threat to show up. 
He can take care of himself against Jason, that’s been proven. But you don’t want to see what would happen if it was three or more guys. When Jason first shows up with three other guys whose names you could care less to remember, your nerves light up. Eddie’s too because he rises from the picnic bench with his arms raised. Grabbing your bat, you get out of the car, careful to stay out of view. 
Inching closer, Jason’s voice finally makes it through, “she’d never actually want to be with a freak like you. No way. She wants to be with me, just like her parents want her to. Maybe if you let her go, we won’t hurt you.” 
Yeah, fuck that. Clenching your hand around the bat, you step into view, “back off, Carver,” you command. Swaying the wood back and forth. “I warned you once already.” 
“Princess,” Eddie warns, but you don’t want to hear it. He might have pieced together why Jason is here, but you’re not backing down. Never again. Not since the moment you stepped foot in his trailer what feels like ages ago.
“Can’t you see he’s corrupting you? Just come with me so that I can take care of you,” Jason yells back, looking honest to god perplexed. “This isn’t you. He’s messing with your head.” 
“He’s letting me live!” You shout, tired of everyone trying to tell you what’s best for you. Like you’re incapable of figuring that out for yourself. One thing’s for certain, it isn’t fucking Jason. And it isn’t your fucking parents either. “He takes care of me better than anyone else ever has! Eddie makes me happy!” 
“Aww, princess,” Eddie coos softly, making your heart swell. 
“Don’t make me say it again, Carver,” you swing the back at your side again.
“Grab him!” Jason snaps and two of the guys grab each of Eddie’s arms, pinning them behind his back. You hadn’t even noticed they were getting closer to him, you were so focused on making sure Jason didn’t do something stupid. Eddie struggles in their grip, loosening their hold, only to be forced still. 
Looks like Jason did do something stupid afterall. “I warned you, Jason,” you spit, swinging the bat, hitting him in the face with a satisfying thwack. He stumbles to the dirt, clutching his split, bleeding cheek. The remaining jock, not holding Eddie, helps Jason to his feet. Whipping your head to the others, “let. Him. Go,” you growl while Eddie stares at you with literal heart eyes. The boys keep their hold, flicking their gaze to their captain who's whining. Good. “Fine,” you huff, swinging the bat again, connecting with one of their legs. 
Eddie stumbles as they release him, the one you’d hit falling to the forest floor, yelling in pain. His partner in crime helps him up and you aim your bat again, a crystal clear warning. One that even Jason pays attention to and all four jocks limp away. Once they’re out of view, the bat thumps to the ground and you face Eddie. 
“Are you crazy?” He asks, pulling you close, staring in your eyes waiting for an answer.
“Don’t ever tell me again that I don’t love you, Eddie Munson, do you understand me,” you rush out, crashing your lips to his. A soft moan combined with an absolute sigh of relief pushes past your lips when he holds you tighter, pulls you even closer, and returns the kiss. 
“Why would you do that?” He breaks the kiss, holding you by the small of your back. “Where did you even get a bat from?” 
“That dick led you out here just to jump you. I heard him in the halls. I wasn’t going to just let him,” you roll your eyes, brushing his bangs from his eyes. “I told you it felt weird.” 
“And the bat?” Eddie repeats, looking where it's laying on the ground. 
“I’m a girl in a small town,” you state like it should be obvious. “It’s called self defense.” 
He snorts, “hot.” You playfully punch his chest, making him laugh. He quickly grabs your hand, bringing it to his mouth to kiss our knuckles. “So, I make you happy, huh?” Eddie grins slyly, cocking an eyebrow at you. 
“Very,” you smile back, leaning in to kiss him again. Hard. Pressing into him until he’s backed against a tree, groaning into your mouth. “I’ve been wanting to tell you for weeks,” you admit, pulling at his bottom lip with your teeth. Lovingly swiping it with your tongue at his hiss from the action. 
Suddenly your back is against the tree and Eddie’s hips are digging into yours, the bulge in his jeans leaving nothing to the imagination as to whether or not he’s believing and enjoying your words. “I told you I wanted to marry you when we were kids,” he rasps in the small space between your mouths. “You coming to me soaked and asking for help, even as a ploy I’d accept it if it meant you being in my life again. I never stopped wanting you, princess. Ever.” 
“Good,” you reply, claiming his mouth again, Eddie’s hands gripping your hips. You moan when he kisses down your neck, biting at the crook and your eyes roll back. “Eddie,” you whine, trying to spread your legs for more friction. He shifts, his thigh pressing between your legs, rubbing beautifully against your clothed pussy. It’s not enough and you whine again, “Eddie, please.” Every pent up feeling you’ve had for the last month ready to burst at the seams. 
He chuckles against what’s surely a purple mark on your neck, “right here?” Eddie teases, licking your abused flesh, nipping his way back up. “Can’t let me take you home first?”
“No,” you say once his blown, brown eyes fall on your face, “I can’t. I need you, Eddie, please,” you gasp. Breathing becomes harder the longer his thigh digs into you, sparking flames deep in your core. 
“Right here in the woods, huh?” He asks, a shit eating grin plastered on his face. “Maybe Jason was right,” Eddie chuckles, cupping you where it aches, “maybe I did corrupt you.” 
“Good,” you moan, grinding against his hand, “I’m yours to corrupt, Eddie.”
Eddie’s eyes darken further, pupils widening and getting hazy, “that’s my girl.” His fingers undo your button and zipper before yanking you to him, pulling you back towards the picnic table. Pushing you down face first onto the wooden surface, he drags your pants and underwear down in one swift motion. “Look at you,” he tries to coo, but it’s so full of lust that it’s raspy and thick, “so wet for me already, princess.” Eddie kisses your spine, making you shiver, “last chance,” his hands rub your ass. 
“Please,” you croak, eyes burning, needing him inside of you right now. Groaning a guttural, “fuck,” when his tongue dips inside your dripping cunt. “Eddie,” you gasp, him eating you out better than you’ve ever felt before. The long licks and the way he pushes his tongue as far as it will go to tease at your clit. It’s intoxicating and before you can beg for more, two fingers push inside you and you keen. Hips bucking at the pressure against the bundle of nerves deep inside. 
Your moans turn to a mewl, Eddie nipping at the back of your thighs, his hand cracking over your ass. The sting shoots white hot jolts of electricity through you, an orgasm beginning to warm you from the inside out at a startling rate. Kissing your ass, you feel Eddie smile, “you taste so fucking good princess. So fucking good. God,” he groans, “and you’re all fucking mine. Aren’t you?” His fingers move faster and all you can do is moan and nod, thighs shaking with the need to come. “Aren’t you?” Eddie repeats with another slap to your ass, wanting an actual answer. 
Like he isn’t taking away your ability to form proper thoughts let alone understandable words. Huffing your breath, trying desperately to speak, “y-yes, yours,” your gasp, his tongue joining his fingers, flying you over the edge. Wave after beautiful wave slamming into you in quick succession. Had Eddie not had his fingers inside of you, you’d have slumped right off the table. “I’m yours, Eddie,” you groan when he removes his fingers, half hearing him undo his own belt and the slide of his pants. 
“Good girl,” he soothes the spot he’d smacked with loving strokes of his palm, spitting into his other hand. A whine escapes your lips feeling the head of his cock glide against your pussy. “Ready, princess?” Eddie asks, tapping your cunt with his dick. You think you say yes, you’re almost certain the word came out of your mouth. All you really care about is that Eddie heard your consent and his dick slams into you completely. “Fuck, you’re so tight, baby.” 
A groan shifts to a whine when he slowly drags himself out of you to the tip, sliding back at the same pace. “Eddie,” you whine again, trying to push your hips back to make him move faster. The heat in your core burns at a dizzying rate from the surprising intensity of the leisurely roll of his hips. But his grip on you is sure, you’re completely at his mercy.
“Look at that,” he gasps out, doing it over and over. You can only imagine that he’s just watching himself disappear inside of you and enjoying it immensely. “So pretty,” Eddie moans, thrusting harder, but only just. Still pulling out till just the tip of his cock is left inside you and ramming himself forward. The pace punches moans from your chest and has your eyes roll back with every deliberate jab to that sweet spot. 
“Ed- fuck!” You cry out, his control of teasing you or keeping up with his own pleasure snaps along with his hips. Eddie holds your hips hard and rails into you harder. Thrusting with abandon and the coil inside of you winds tightly. Threatening to break at any given moment. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you moan repeatedly, eyes blurring with lust. 
Eddie fists his hand in the back of your hair, yanking you up to his chest, “that’s right, let it all out, princess.” He wraps a hand around your middle, trailing his fingers down to circle around your clit. “I wanna hear how good I make you feel,” Eddie bites at your neck, sucking what has to be a constellation of marks on your skin, his thrusts not once faltering. “Come for me, pretty girl.” 
His words, his hands, his cock, him. Eddie flies you right over the edge of your orgasm. The coil snapping so hard you feel your pussy spasm around him and do something it’s never done before, even when you’ve played with yourself. You cry out, screaming a moaned, “Eddie,” as your cunt gushes around him. A tear falls from your eye, overwhelmed with sensation but Eddie holds you close, keeping you grounded with an orgasm infused smile on your face. 
He doesn’t gentle you through it, his fingers never ceasing their toying with your clit, “you’re gonna come for me again,” Eddie moans in your ear. You’re nearly overstimulated, but oh so addicted to the feeling of his dick inside of you that you couldn’t care less. You’d come as many times as he’d get you to. “Then I’m gonna come inside my pussy, understand?” 
“Please, please Eddie, fuck,” you moan, your cunt clenching around him with a vice grip. You want to meet his thrusts, but you’re too lost in the perfect pace he’s set that you hadn’t even noticed the all too familiar tingle creeping up on you. Thighs shaking, you hold his arm, the hand in your hair snaking around to a light hold on your throat. Another grunted moan in your ear from Eddie is all it took for you to fall apart again. A breathless scream as your pussy squirts around his cock once more. 
“That’s my girl,” Eddie’s grip tightens around your throat. His fingers finally leave your sensitive clit alone to hold you steady, thrusting a few more times until he shoves himself inside. Eddie lets out a moan, spilling himself deep inside, warming you from the inside out. “Fucking hell, I love you,” he pants, peppering your neck with sweet kisses. He carefully helps you back onto the table top, your hands propping you because your legs are far from stable. 
Your mind is blissfully quiet, only caring about being in the moment with Eddie. You’ll deal with the thought of doing this in the middle of the woods later. Right now, you just want him. Eddie pulls out from your sore pussy as gently as he can and gingerly pulls your pants back up. Kind of pointless considering they’re pretty much instantly soaked from his come leaking out of you. But that’s okay too, you like the feeling. You turn to face him, finding he’s already got his pants pulled up too. 
Reaching out to hug him, Eddie does you one better, scooping you up into his arms in a bridal carry. “You okay, princess?” He asks, kissing the top of your head when you tuck into his neck. 
“I’m okay. Some water would be great right now though,” you mumble, the pure scent of Eddie mixing with the woods around you is better than any aromatherapy out there. “And food. God, and a bath.” 
Eddie chuckles, bending to grab your bat from the ground, “good thing I have a cooler and some snacks in the van. Think that’ll be enough till we get home and I can make you something?” 
“‘S perfect, Eds,” you smile against his skin, curling your fingers in the ends of his hair as he carries you to his van. “Will my car be okay?” 
“I’ll have Gareth or Jeff come get it for you.” Eddie stops in his tracks, “uh,” he chuckles. “Do we need to stop at the pharmacy?” 
Lifting your tired head, you ask, ”why,” heavy lidded eyes barely focusing on him. 
“We didn’t use a condom,” he states, “and I definitely didn’t pull out.” 
You laugh, thumping your head back into his neck, “Eddie, my parents controlled every aspect of my life, you really think they wouldn’t put me on the pill?” You resume playing with his hair and he begins walking again. “I would’ve stopped you otherwise,” tugging his hair lightly you giggle, “it’s more than okay, Eddie. Just get me home so we can eat and take a bath together.”
“Coming right up, princess,” his smile is evident in his tone and he kisses your hair again. 
Part 2
8K notes · View notes
aliensupastar · 11 months
Text
not wrong, but not right
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Rating: Mature
Pairing: Carmy Berzatto/GN!Reader
Word Count: 2.5k
Summary: You do your best to keep your head down at your job. When that doesn't work, Carmy's there for you anyways.
Part II Part III
Warnings: angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, depiction of an eating disorder, vent fic, fainting, hospitals, slightly one-sided romantic feelings?
A/N: PLEASE mind the warnings! as mentioned, this is a vent fic with a reader that has an eating disorder. mostly made for my own comfort/self-indulgence, but i thought i’d post it anyways. title inspired by "ode to the mets" by the strokes, gif by heardchef <3
All things considered, your job could be worse. Honestly, you feel like you lucked out a bit, your hiring process being expedited due to Marcus being the one to recommend you to his boss, given that they needed new workers for their newly opened restaurant — you knew it was a good idea to stay in touch with that guy after high school. 
Working front-of-house with Richie could get overwhelming, to say the least. Dealing with him your first few weeks took a lot of adjustment, and a lot of holding back from calling him every foul name in the book. But it all smoothened out eventually. Your coworkers were nice, the pay was decent, the train ride was short. And your boss… well, it didn’t hurt that your boss was nice to look at. 
You’re a little embarrassed by it. You spend a little too much time looking at him when you’re supposed to be focused on your prep, and you always stop by the back office to say goodnight before you clock out, but you think you’ve kept it subtle enough to go unnoticed. You’ve gotten a little too good at that, going unnoticed. 
“Need me to do anything else before I head out?” You lean against the doorway of the tiny office as you say it, backpack already on and your jacket draped over your arms. Carmy’s sitting in his desk chair, bent over some paperwork and looking a little surprised at your question.
“Uh, no, we’re good here. But if you wanna stick around for a bit, Syd and I are makin’ something out of the food we were gonna have to throw out tonight, you could take some of it home with you. Save time on dinner.” He offers with a small smile. You hate the temptation that immediately springs up in you, because you want so badly to take him up on it. The smell of food in the kitchen is always mouthwatering, and when Carmy’s making dishes instead of being on expo, it somehow smells even better. 
You’ve never even tried Carmy’s cooking. You work for one of the most excellent chefs in the country, and you can’t even answer with an honest opinion when people ask you if the food at the restaurant is good. 
Despite all that, you shake your head, using the excuse of wanting to catch your train before it gets dark out, and he takes that easily. 
“Heard.” He nods, looking like he might want to say more. “Well, thank you, for showin’ up today. You were great.”
“Thank you, chef.” You reply, unable to stop yourself from smiling at the praise. “Goodnight, Carm.” 
Before you can change your mind, you turn and walk away, clocking out quickly, but you still hear him say “Night!” from behind you. 
When you make it onto a train car, safely on your way back to your apartment, you finally let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. Maybe some other day, you think to yourself. It’ll be worth it to try the food some other day.
It had been one incident. That’s what you swore to yourself: one incident, one slip up, and it would never happen again. Besides, you think — or rather, hoped — Carmy’s forgotten about it. It was months ago, and things moved quickly in the restaurant, no time to dwell on things, especially not for the guy who has to run it. 
You’d gone out to the back alley of The Bear for a short break. You’d seen the others do it a million times, mostly for smoke breaks, but you didn’t need a cigarette. You needed to sit down, give yourself a chance to catch your breath as your vision started to swim and your ears felt like they had been filled with cotton. And, well, usually you didn’t need breaks like that, usually you didn’t allow yourself to take them like the others did, but there was a lull between the lunch and dinner rush and Richie didn’t need your help in the front, so you quietly slipped out the back door while hastily putting your coat on. Just this once, you let yourself slump against the wall, sliding down until you were sat on the pavement. You don’t even remember your consciousness fading, just your heartbeat thrumming in your ears while your eyes slipped shut. 
Carmy found you like that. He had barely noticed your extended absence, too busy catching up on more paperwork in his office before the dinner crowd poured in, and he decided he needed a smoke. It had almost startled him when he finally did notice you sitting there, your presence so quiet it took him a few seconds, before he also noticed you were asleep. He couldn’t blame you for that. He could use a fuckin’ nap these days. 
Still, he walked over and leaned down, nudging your shoulder with his hand to rouse you, muttering a quiet “hey.” But you didn’t wake, not even after a couple more pokes. And then he started to worry. 
When you came to, it was because of Carmy’s hands on both your cheeks, gently patting your face, his blue eyes wide with panic. You flinched a bit, startling at the realisation of what you'd done, swearing under your breath, and that was enough for Carmy to step back. 
“You okay?” He asked, and you nodded quickly on instinct. 
“I’m- fine. Yeah, I’m okay.” You stumbled over your assurance, knowing he didn’t quite believe you from the way he raised his eyebrows questioningly. 
“What are you doing out here? You’re freezin’.” You bite your lip, embarrassed at being caught a bit red-handed, unconscious with your body temperature dropping. You’re usually better than that. Better at hiding behind smiles, concealer over your dark under-eyes, and excuses of being more of a big breakfast person to get out of eating family meals with the rest of your coworkers every afternoon. 
“Just tired. I’m fine.” You reply, hoping that’d be enough of an excuse, because everyone here is a little exhausted all the time. You pull yourself to your feet once he stands up from crouching in front of you, trying to convince him to just brush it off. “I'm good to keep going.”
You almost think that he buys that, before he stares at you a little bit longer, and you try not to shrink under his gaze. 
“People who are fine usually don’t take five minutes to wake up.” He says. You don’t have a comeback. 
“Yes, chef,” is the only thing you can say as you turn and walk back into the kitchen quickly, avoiding eye contact with him and making it through the rest of the day without needing another break, and without giving him a chance to talk to you again before you clock out that day. You don’t even stop by the office to say goodnight.
It was months ago, one time, and it wasn’t supposed to happen again. Not at work, not in the middle of a rush. That was just your luck, you guess, that you would get caught up working front-of-house, running between taking orders with Richie and handing out plates whenever you heard somebody yelling “Hands!” in the back, all while you hadn’t had anything more than water and a coffee in the morning in… fuck, you lost count of the days again. 
You pause to take deep breaths and sips of water when you can, but you guess it wasn’t often enough, because one second you’re picking up plates from the expo station and the next you’re collapsing, taking the dishes with you. 
When you wake up in a hospital bed afterwards, Carmy’s there. Slumped over in a plastic chair that can’t be comfortable, clad in a familiar checkered wool jacket. He’s asleep, but he’s here, and you don’t have the heart to wake him. You have no idea how long you’ve been out, but your heart fills with equal parts guilt and gratitude at the fact that he’s likely been sat by your side for hours. 
You turn your attention away from Carmy for a second, taking in the rest of your surroundings. The cotton hospital gown, the uncomfortably firm mattress beneath you, the beeping of an EKG to your left, and to your right- 
Your breath catches when you see it. An IV bag, steadily dripping fluid into you through the needle in your arm, innocuous but sinister. 
“Shit.” You breathe out. Now you’re panicking. Now you’re cursing yourself for not being able to hold it together long enough to get through a busy hour, and reaching for the bag to get a better look at the text that you hope and pray details it’s nutritional information, but you quickly snatch your hand back when the privacy curtain is peeled away by a nurse checking up on you. 
The sound of the curtain rings scraping against metal wakes Carmy, and the nurse smiles apologetically before turning to you and explaining what you already guessed: you're in ketosis, you fainted due to low blood sugar levels and a high-stress environment, you should take it easy and eat when you get home. You’ll be discharged as soon as your IV bag is finished. Fuck. You nod and smile along with everything she says, lying through your teeth about merely skipping breakfast that morning and thanking her for her time until you can get her to leave you alone again. 
Well, alone with your boss, who’s silent through the whole conversation.
You wait for a minute after the nurse leaves, before turning to your right and carefully lifting yourself onto your knees to tug the IV bag off its hook and flip it over, desperately scanning the printed text. You can’t even bring yourself to care that Carmy’s there anymore, even when you can feel his eyes on you, witnessing your silent panic. You can’t help it. 
You swear under your breath once you find what you’re looking for. When you do the math in your head, it’s- fuck- it’s hundreds of calories that they’re pumping into you. You hang the bag up and sit back, defeated, unable to do anything but fiddle with the thin blanket draped over your legs and curse yourself for not being more careful. 
“You wanna tell me what’s goin’ on?” Carmy asks gently after a few minutes, breaking the silence. You don’t know why that question makes your eyes fill with tears, even as you shake your head vehemently. 
“Nothing’s going on, Carm. I’m okay.” You tell him, trying to keep your voice neutral. He pauses for a moment, making you think that maybe, just maybe, he’ll drop it. 
“I know what ketosis means, chef.” You hate him a little bit for catching on. You were so sure you were flying under the radar, you could’ve kept your habits unnoticed if you had just not fainted again.
“Well, like I said, I skipped breakfast. I didn’t have time this morning.” 
“Then why didn’t you eat family with us instead?” He insists.
“Because-“ 
“Why aren’t you eating, chef?” 
You know he’s just concerned, as your boss, he can’t have you passing out at work so much. But you also can’t help the irritation that rises in you at his persistence. 
“Fuck you, Carmen,” is all you can come back with, and he scoffs. “I felt weird intruding on family when I never eat with you guys normally. There. I’m sorry me not eating this one time got in the way of my job, it won’t happen again.” You try to explain, but you already know he’ll see through that.  
“One time, along with the other time you fainted out back, and all the times you’ve refused to even taste a new dish we’re tryin’ out.” Your head snaps up, and you finally take a real look at him, taken aback by the fact that he would even be bothered to remember all that. He meets your irritation with nothing but softness in his eyes. “Talk to me.” He pleads. 
You can’t take it. You tear up again, wanting, needing to fight against the temptation to tell him everything because, God, you don’t know how much more you can take. 
“I can’t.” There’s no hiding your emotion anymore, your voice thick with tears. “Carmy- I- I can’t take it.” 
“Take what?” He asks, his voice still gentle.
“Any of it!” You’re full on sobbing now, desperately trying to wipe away your tears with the back of your hand. 
“Hey,” He almost coos, standing to move closer to your bed and wrapping his arms around you, bringing your head to rest on his firm chest, and you let him. You don’t object when his hand moves to pet the back of your head while you gasp for breath through your sobs, and he doesn’t object when your hands land on his back, clinging to the white t-shirt under his coat and relishing in the warmth radiating from him. 
He doesn’t push you to say more. He holds you while you calm down, your breath evening out eventually, enough to speak straight. 
“I can’t tell you, Carmy.” You finally say, practically whimpering. “I can’t get the help you’ll want me to get, because- I can’t stop. I don’t know how, I- I don’t know another way anymore.” 
He doesn’t reply, at first, taking in a deep breath while he lets your words hang in the air. 
“Okay.” He says quietly. “I won’t make you do anything you don’t want to do.” You’re relieved at his acquiescence. You don’t think you can take fighting with your boss on top of everything else you have going on. 
“Thank you.” You whisper. 
“Can I ask you to promise me something?” He continues, making you pause, before nodding hesitantly. “Let me look out for you. You don’t have to tell me anything, just- don’t keep going at it alone. You’ll just end up back here again. Or, y’know, half-breathing and unconscious in the back alley of my restaurant. Trust me, I know.” 
You contemplate his words for a bit. You know he’s right, and you know you don’t want to end up in the hospital again. And maybe you owe him this one thing, for being here, for not pushing you like you expected him to, for not firing you after you interrupted his whole day with your bullshit. 
“Okay,” You say. “I promise.” He breathes what you think is a sigh of relief, before leaning down and pressing his lips to the top of your head. You stay like that for a little while longer, silent except for the beeping EKG machine and your occasional sniffle. 
“You’re freezing, you know that?” He says suddenly, and it makes you giggle; you haven’t held anyone close in a while, not long enough for them to notice you’re always cold to the touch. You know he’s smiling too, feeling his lips against your hair. 
“Lookin’ out for me might mean letting me borrow this jacket every once in a while.” 
“I’m okay with that.”
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biggestsimp12 · 2 months
Text
Cheesy woo attempts!
In which they (or you) are trying to seduce you with cheesy pick up lines!
Characters- Itto, Cyno, Lyney, Xiao.
Prompt- none. Just some cracky idea I got.
(characters+rule list here-feel free to request anything!)
-------–––––———
Lyney
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GIF by c6jpg
“Are you a magician? Because when I’m looking at you, you make everyone else disappear!”
Confused. It took him a few good seconds before realizing what you did there.
He proceeds to have the biggest smug smile on his face (with a hint of blush as well,) persuaded to join in your little game that you're playing.
"Not sure dear. But I know something else for sure I can make disappear~"
He winked mischievously and sets his arm around your shoulder before continuing his phrase.
"And that's your dating availability, my dear!~"
He snickered before planting a big smooch on your lips, making a rose appear behind your ear. This checky bastard knows all too well he left you speechless and flustered. After all, that's the way he likes it.
--––——
Cyno
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GIF by k0komis
The pair of you were patrolling together through the Sumeru's desert Great Red Sand, enduring the painfully annoying heat and the flying wind which was like purposely aimed straight in your guys' faces.
Cyno seemed to be used to this since he carries out these patrols daily, unlike you, who's only joined him in the range over recently.
Therefore, you kept sneezing from the flying sand that entered your nastrals, proceeding to make your nose runny and eyes watery. Seeing this, Cyno being the person he is, logically attempted on making your mood better.
“I’d say God bless you, but it looks like he already has!”
Typical Cyno joke. It made you blush a little so I guess he thinks it was worth it?
----––——
Xiao
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“Do you believe in love at first sight—or should I walk by again?”
Another one who's confused. However, this time, this unfortunate fella has barely a tiny idea about what love is yet, so he isn't really thick with the concept. You have some explaining to do since this guy will assume it is another one of those mortal shenanigans you like to pull on him.
What type of mortal.. What was the word again? Firt? Uhm no, that's not it.. Oh, right.. "Flirt." What kind of mortal fir- "flirt" are you doing again? Am I supposed to laugh or..?
Why so cold and dry answer dear? No you need me to warm your heart up?
You officially broke Xiao lmao
--––——
Itto
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You were walking through Inazuma, the land of Electro. You spotted a sweet and lollipop stand, which reminded you of Itto and his favorite treats. The shop also had his colors, which were red and white. You couldn't help but think how much Itto would love this place, and mutter that you wished he was there.
As you purchased two lollipops, you didn't realize that Itto was behind them. He startled you by jumping to you in a goofy way.
"Granted! Well, here I am. What are your other two wishes?"
You turn around and chuckle at him, asking what he's doing here. Itto responds with another cheesy line, saying that he came for something amazing, but found you instead.
You roll your eyes, but couldn't help feeling slightly flustered. You shove one of the lollipops into Itto's mouth, who continues to say cheesy pick-up lines to flirt with you.
Itto's goofy and smug behavior continues, but you're slightly amused. They eat the other lollipop, and they proceed to banter with each other as Itto continues to flirt with them. You can't help but feel a little flustered, but at the same time, you can't help but admire Itto's charm.
---———–
The end <3
(requests are always open and welcomed!^^)
203 notes · View notes
gilverrwrites · 1 month
Note
Im back on my supernatural shit, can you please do TFW + Gabe and anyone else you wanna do reacting to finding out the reader had a dirty dream about them?
Author note: Me too Boo, me too. I added lucifer, just cause I wanted too. Hope you enjoy! I also switched things up with gifs for each instead of one image for everyone. Lemme know which one you guys prefer.
Rating: M/18+
Please remember: that it is enough to exist as you are.
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Dean
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You’ve never seen a bigger shit-eating grin in all your life; he looks like he hit the jackpot.
No matter how much or how little you tell him, he won’t stop making jokes or bragging how bad you want it.
Dean I need you t- “Yeah you do.” Stop it! “Bet you weren’t saying that in your dreams last night.” *Gesturing at something even remotely suggestive* “Hey hey hey, did we do that?”
He promises to stop if you give him the full run down.
And when you do, he’s like Christmas came early.
All wide eyes and dopy smiles, occasional blushing.
He’s got a million and one questions throughout, but the final and most is obviously: “You wanna go at the real thing?”
Sam
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Immediate shuts down for like 5 minutes. His brain has to comprehend and then reboot.
He won’t joke or make fun of you, at least not in front of other people.
But as soon as you’re alone, he’s got questions, lots of detail-oriented questions.
He’s not outright asking what your dream was, just teasing you with meticulously detailed fantasies of his own posed as questions.
“Did I make you beg for it? Did you make me beg?” “Were you completely naked, stretched out underneath me? Were my hands around your throat?” “What did I say? Did I tell you I would ruin you? That you deserved it? Did you want me to?”
Castiel
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Angels don’t dream. Primarily because they don’t sleep.
So, he’s not really sure what to make of this confession at first.
Queue the signature furrowed brow and head tilt.
“Why?” I don’t know, I didn’t do it on purpose! “That’s true. I suppose this is your mind’s subconscious way of informing you that you are sexually attracted to me."
Boy, he doesn’t beat around bushes.
He would need time to stew on it from there.
It could be hours, days, maybe weeks before he brings it up again.
“I am curious about your dream.” What dr- oh right. “I am flattered. Should you be willing, I would like to discuss this more. For example, which of us…”  
Gabriel
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You can sense the raised brows and the satisfied smirk before he even does it.
“Reeeeeally?”
Gabe’s reaction is very similar to Deans, just like a Trickster in a candy store.
Only he’ll wait to get you alone before he starts bombarding you.
If you won’t tell him outright, he’ll keep guessing.
And every new guess is accompanied by a costume and/or scenery change.
“Maybe we filmed the newest instalment of casa erotica?” “No? Maybe you paid Dr Sexy a visit?” “Mile high club?” “No? Kinkier? You into a little BDSM?”
I’ll let you fill in the visual blanks. 😉
Lucifer
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His reaction is a lot more subdued. 
That doesn’t make it any less dubious. You can feel the smugness radiating off of him.
He’ll ask earnestly enough to start out.
“Do you want to tell me about it?”
When you refuse, he doesn’t push. Doesn’t joke, or tease.
But the smile he keeps giving you.
The way he watches you, totally engrossed but poised, is enough to drive you crazy.
When he finally asks again, later on, in that low, relaxed tone:
“Are you sure you don’t want to tell me all about your dirty little fantasies?”
Temptation really is his game.
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lowkeychenle · 8 months
Text
Like We Just Met [ZCL] (M)
Description: Everything else about the day is completely normal when Chenle realizes he wants to marry you. It hits him like a tidal wave, and he's itching to tell you just how much he wants to love you forever.
Genre: Fluff (literally SO MUCH FLUFF we love Chenle in this house go away if you don't) // Smut
Content Warnings: Explicit unprotected sex (it's actually sweet this time am I feeling okay), talks about marriage etc etc. Nothing really dark or upsetting in here.
Word Count: 11,292 (y'all I have no idea how this happened...)
Pairing: Zhong Chenle x Reader (feat. the rest of the Dreamies)
ISTJ 7Dream Series Masterlist
Juliet's Masterlist | Requests/Tell me what you think of this plz <3
Tag List (open for ISTJ 7Dream Series): @kunvibing
Author's Note: Lowkey? This was so fun because it's from Chenle's POV...or it's supposed to be haha. This is probably my favorite fic I've ever written catch me crying in the corner...also this gif don't mind the real tears in my eyes
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Nobody questioned Renjun when he said he’d invited his friend to dance practice. They brought friends in every now and then, so it wasn’t anything new. Chenle was having a bit of an off day. He kept screwing up the choreography (that he’d done seven hundred times probably in the past week alone) and even accidentally elbowed Jaemin.
Renjun’s friend had yet to show up. Chenle was beyond frustrated with the way things were going, so he let everyone know he was taking a break. He grabbed his water bottle and stomped out of the practice room.
He ended up a bit down the hallway, resting his back on the wall with his eyes closed. All he needed was a break. That had to be it.
“Are you okay?” a soft voice asked.
When he looked at you, he recoiled a bit. He’d never seen you before—he’d definitely remember—but something about you felt familiar. Like a warm aura surrounded you and infiltrated him in the best ways.
“You’re Chenle, right?” You tilted your head at him. “I’m Renjun’s friend, (Y/N). I was supposed to watch practice, but I got lost. This building is pretty big.”
“Yeah, I’m Chenle.” He blinks at you a couple more times. “Um, we’re always in the same practice room. I’ll take you over there.”
“Actually, is there a place to get some water? I forgot mine at home.” You scratched the top of your head and scrunched up your nose. “It was really hot outside.”
“It’s on the way.” He gestured down the hall with his head.
You followed him without hesitation. He was acutely aware of every step you took, of how there was only a few feet between the two of you. Even though he had no clue what to say to you, you didn’t mind walking along in silence. It was unlike him to be shy. Next to impossible for him to be starstruck.
“How long have you known Renjun for?” he asked. And why the hell had you not come around sooner?
“Oh.” You took a deep breath and pursed your lips in thought as Chenle stopped to grab you a water bottle from the kitchen. “Four years now? Five? His family knows mine, so when I came back here, his parents told him he had to help me find my way around.”
“Well, today’s pretty laid back,” Chenle explains. “We’ll probably practice for another hour or two and then go home. We’ve been at it all day.”
You hum in response, opening the cap and taking a sip. “Thank you for this. Sorry to keep you from practice.”
“Don’t be. I’m ready to get the hell out of here.” Chenle chuckles, gaze drinking you in when you’re distracted by your water. “And…they can be a little…much at first. But they’re all great people, so you’ll be fine.”
“Bold of you to assume I’m nervous.” You narrowed your eyes at him playfully.
He bit back a smile, pressing his lips into a thin line instead. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“Renjun has given me plenty of warnings,” you tell him.
He wasn’t sure why he hadn’t taken you to the practice room yet. The two of you stood in the kitchen, but he knew the second you were with everyone else, the conversation was over. He didn’t want to stop talking to you, and that odd feeling of warmth settled into his chest.
“Like what?” Chenle raised his eyebrows.
“He said you’re cranky and mean.” You smiled at him, and he swore he was almost knocked off his feet. There was something about you that drew him in.
Chenle made a mental note to scold Renjun later, but he’s not necessarily wrong…he was cranky until he saw you.
“Well, in that case, what he said about everyone else is probably accurate, too.”
“You don’t look cranky,” you interjected. “You’re not mean either. Mean people don’t get strangers water bottles.”
“I’m mean to Renjun. And Jisung.”
“They’re your friends. You get a pass for your friends.” You slid one of your hands into the back pocket of your jeans, rocking on the balls of your feet as silence befell the room.
“They’re waiting for me,” Chenle says. “We should go.”
You nodded in agreement and followed him. He sulked a bit when the other members were introduced to you. They were all nice—because they always were—but when it came time to get back to practice, he found himself gravitating toward you several times.
Nearly every time he looked at you, you were already looking at him, too. Maybe it wasn’t just him that felt the weird tug. He hoped it wasn’t.
After they wrapped everything up, Chenle sat against the back wall, feeling so heavy as if he could fall asleep right there. He was exhausted.
Jaemin, Jeno, Donghyuck, and Mark were already on their way out the door, leaving Jisung to slump next to Chenle and Renjun to talk with you. Jisung noted how he was watching you, but he didn’t say anything right away. He drank his water and stayed quiet.
You said something to Renjun, who smiled at you and nodded. He headed for the door and waited for you outside. When Chenle realized you were coming over to him, he shot a worried glance over at Jisung.
“Would you look at that?” Jisung cleared his throat. “Time for me to go.”
Before Chenle could even grab him, Jisung was halfway to the door. Once you were in front of him, you sat down and crossed your legs.
“You did really well today.”
He chuckled. “I think that’s the worst I’ve done this comeback season.”
“Then you’re in pretty good shape.” You shrugged, picking at the seam of your jeans. “I wanted to thank you. For helping me earlier.”
“It wasn’t that big of a deal,” he said. “You’re Renjun’s friend. Of course, I’d help you.”
“Right.” You brushed your hair over your shoulder and prepared to stand up. “I should go—”
“Will you be coming back?” The question shot out of his mouth, sending a blush to his cheeks in response.
“I’m not sure,” you told him. “That’s up to Renjun I guess. It was really cool to see how passionate you guys are.”
“Let me give you my number.” Chenle grabbed his phone from his pocket. “Um, just in case you get lost again. And need help finding the room.” He cringed at himself, hoping he wasn’t going to get rejected.
“Yeah, I’d like that.” You gave him the tiniest smile, but it made his heart flutter anyway.
He handed it to you with the contact app open. You didn’t even hesitate to type in your name and number. After, you sent yourself a text, and Chenle heard it ring in your back pocket. You gave it back to him, grinned, and left him sitting there in shock.
He couldn’t choose between staring at you as you left and looking down at your contact open on his screen. His stomach twisted with nerves, but the second he saw the smiley face emoji you’d put next to your name, he already knew.
You were going to be someone to him.
Mark drops something in the kitchen, snapping Chenle out of it. He looks at you, and you smile back at him. With you pressed into his side and your legs over his lap, he can’t help but grin right back.
His hand rests on your thigh, thumb sliding gently back and forth as he presses a kiss to your temple. He’d never get used to this.
After returning from the kitchen, Mark allows the game to resume. His nose scrunches as he glances between you and Chenle. “That’s a weird ass question.”
“Not weird.” Chenle shakes his head. “Critical thinking, Mark, you should try it.”
“Oh, be nice.” You shove his shoulder.
For a while now, Chenle has felt his feelings growing more than he thought possible. He’s already in love with you (thankfully, since you’ve been together almost a year now), but something about you lately has him on a whole other level. Even then, he’s not sure what it is. He decides he’ll ride it out for a while and see where it takes him.
“Why would you ask your girlfriend what year she’d take a time machine back to? Shouldn’t she be like…happiest now?” Mark asks, sipping on whatever mixed drink he’d prepared in Chenle’s kitchen.
“You’d think.” Chenle snorts, leaning back against the couch and throwing his arm around you.
“He asks me questions like this all the time,” you tell Mark. When you steal a glance at your boyfriend, his breath catches in his chest.
What the hell is going on with him lately? He can’t concentrate around you (even more than usual) and every tiny thing you do has his heart hammering against his ribcage. Soon enough, he’s sure you’ll both hear the bones crack.
“Has anyone, by chance, ever told you two that you’re gross?” Mark chuckles to himself and leans back in the recliner. “Some of us are single and lonely, you know.”
“Some of us will never be that again,” Chenle shoots back.
“Oh, you two are the worst.” Your laugh echoes pleasantly in his ears, and he subconsciously leans closer to you.
“I am curious what your answer is, though,” Mark interjects. “Since Chenle’s so sure.”
Chenle takes a sip of his own drink, nearly cringing at the bitter taste dragging down his throat. He’s not much of a drinker—social at best. But he can still appreciate the buzz and the hazy happiness that comes with it. You take his hand that dangles over your shoulder, twirling the friendship ring wrapped around his middle finger. The action is so, so simple, yet it makes his stomach turn.
If he doesn’t figure out what the hell’s going on with him soon, he’s gonna have to separate himself from you.
“Well, you’re right.” You shrug, shuffling closer to Chenle. “This part of my life has definitely been the best. But if I could go back to any time, it would probably be when we met. You only get to meet Zhong Chenle once in your life, dude. I’d do it over and over again if I could. The second I saw him, I knew he would be important to me.”
Chenle thinks back to the moment he first saw you. The way he couldn’t keep his eyes off of you like an actual child or the way he took in every detail of you to store in his mind forever—just in case he never got to speak to you again. He pauses, eyebrows furrowing slightly as he analyzes your answer.
Mark groans. “That doesn’t count! That was last year.”
Grabbing the pillow next to him, Chenle throws it at his friend. “Leave her alone, it was a good answer.”
But when he contemplates that thought, he’s not sure he understands what you mean. His ears burn, the tips of them turning red as he recalls how embarrassingly nervous he was around you all the time. How awkward all of your firsts together were. Everything now is so much better than back then.
Not to mention he’s looked at you the same way since that first night. His feelings for you have grown, sure, but those butterflies he used to get still torment him just about every time he sees you smile.
“Why?” Chenle finally asks.
“You were so cute,” you hum, shifting closer to him. “Everything made you nervous. You almost keeled over in embarrassment when you asked to hold my hand.”
Mark laughs, and Chenle sends a glare his way. No part of that is even anywhere near funny.
“Okay, it's your turn.” Mark gestures at you.
Chenle resists the urge to reach over and touch your face. Usually, he’s so much better about being so clingy in front of his friends and, while he would prefer Mark not seeing this side of him, he couldn’t care less when his gaze is locked with yours.
“Cool.” You nod, taking a sip of your drink. “Both of you. Hypothetical situation. Let’s say you’re drunk. You walk into a room and everyone you’ve ever loved is in there. Like…loved. Who are you going to?”
“Dude.” Mark’s jaw drops. “That’s such a shitty question for me.”
“You’ll live,” Chenle replies. “Just romantic love?”
“All of it. Platonic, romantic, family.” You purse your lips in thought.
Chenle doesn’t have to think about it. Not really. He’d rather get struck by lightning and then hit by a bus right after before admitting that so easily in front of Mark. In this case, it’s always been you. From the second you spoke to him for the first time, he was irrevocably yours. 
“You.” Chenle watches your eyebrows raise.
“Be serious,” you say. “Your parents are included in that.”
“I’m serious. You.” Chenle chuckles.
You give him a pointed look, but that’s when Mark cuts in.
“No, he’s for real. Like…that legitimately happened.” Mark leans forward, elbows digging into his thighs as he rests his head in his palms. “Do you guys not remember?”
“What are you talking about?” you ask him, frowning.
Chenle remembers. Barely, and it’s a bit foggy, but it comes back like a baseball bat upside the head as Mark starts telling the story.
Chenle’s birthday party last year. The night was barely halfway through and he was drunk enough to be stumbling over his feet. He’d heard you were coming, but he had yet to see you. Even when every other feeling was numbed by the tingling sensation the alcohol left behind, his craving to see you was all that remained. 
Mark walked next to him, having a full conversation with himself since Chenle was so fog-brained. As much as he loved Mark, there was only one person he wanted to see. Everyone he knew and loved was here—his parents, the rest of his group, and Jisung had somehow forgotten to uninvite Chenle’s ex.
He only ever dated one person before you, but he wasn’t sure he ever loved her. Regardless, there she was. Even with her standing across the room from him, he kept waiting like a lost puppy.
When you walked in, he swore the whole world stopped around him. Everyone but you was moving in slow motion before they eventually faded into nothing, darkness that was emphasized by the light you were. His breath caught in his throat, and he stopped walking.
Chenle couldn’t form a coherent thought while he stared at you, drunken stupor making it so much easier to forget the embarrassment. Mark watched him curiously as Chenle made his way over to you. He refused to waste any more time when he knew you were the one he wanted to talk to.
You had always been more confident around him than he was around you. Your face lit up when you saw him, wrapping your arms around him. He secured you in his grasp, breathing in the scent of your hair and the perfume you wore.
“Happy birthday.” Your voice is muffled a bit by his T-shirt. “Sorry I’m late, took a bit longer to get ready than I thought it would.”
He knew he should’ve let you go. People were starting to notice the way he was clinging to you, and not even being drunk could excuse that behavior. He was about ready to tell everyone except you to leave. Nothing else mattered. If he could spend his birthday with you, it would be the best one yet.
It’d been two months since Renjun had introduced you to the rest of them. Which means, he’s only known of your existence for two months, and you already command so much of his brain matter that he can’t think of anyone but you. Great.
He finally (reluctantly) let you go and led you over to the rest of the group. Nobody said anything when he made Mark scoot over so you could sit next to him. Nobody questioned it. His parents would ask him about it later, but until then, there was no reason for him to worry. After all, his crush on you was the most obvious thing in the world, so it was only a matter of time before you found out about it.
By the end of the night, he hadn’t spent enough time with you. People were starting to shuffle out, but you stayed, chatting with Renjun until only four remained. Chenle’s parents had gone to bed long ago. You were almost caught up to him on drinks, your laughs longer and your movements slower.
Under any other circumstances, he wouldn’t have been as brave as to walk up to you and ask you to stay the night. He didn’t mean it in a suggestive way, either. He just didn’t want you to leave yet.
“Chenle,” Renjun scolds, swatting his shoulder. “You can’t ask something like that so casually.”
“You want me to stay here? With you?” Your voice was higher than normal. Chenle accredited it to the alcohol raging in your system.
“I like when you’re here.” Chenle nodded. “You make everything calm.”
Renjun scrunched up his face, slamming his forehead into his palm. “(Y/N), you should probably go home—”
“No, it’s okay.” You brushed him off. “I’m okay with staying.”
Oh, he was in love with you. There was no other explanation for the way his heart skipped a beat when those words came out of your mouth.
Chenle doesn’t remember the rest of that night, but he does recall waking up next to you in the morning and freaking out. Alcohol made him brave, but it didn’t save him from the red-hot embarrassment of the next day.
“I didn’t even realize…” you trailed off, a small smile forming on your face. “You picked me.”
“I’ll always pick you,” Chenle responds easily, like second nature.
Mark decides it’s time for him to leave, but Chenle’s mind is still reeling with memories. With all of the firsts you said you wished you could relive. But no matter how hard he tries, he can’t figure out what the fuck this feeling is. As the two of you climb into bed, he’s so distracted, he can’t fall asleep, even with you curled into his chest.
“(Y/N),” Chenle groaned when he saw you in the practice room mirror. “You gotta stop showing up here if you don’t want me to fall in love with you.”
It was a joke. Sort of.
“Right, and let you forget to eat? I think not.” You fought back every time, unphased by the way he so casually admitted he’s starting to fall for you.
At least, that was his idea of admitting it.
You walked over with the bags in your hand, sitting down on the practice room floor next to him. 
“I haven’t even been here that long,” Chenle defended himself. “I would’ve eaten after I left.”
You unloaded the contents, opening boxes. “I can go if that’s what you want.”
“Not what I said.” For some reason, he felt a sudden burst of courage. He’s known you for four months at this point, and something about today felt…right. “I was serious, you know.”
“About what?” You grabbed the drinks from the carrier.
“You.”
“What?” You recoiled, looking at him in confusion.
He contemplated telling you to forget it. That it didn’t matter, and thank you for the food instead. If you didn’t feel the same way for him, he’d be devastated. And then you’d leave him for good and take all the food with you. He was starving.
“If you keep doing nice things for me, I’m gonna fall for you.” As if he hasn’t already.
You paused, but Chenle didn’t miss the blush on your face. Clearing your throat, you looked away from him and took a deep breath. His fists clenched as he awaited your rejection, but the longer the silence stretched, the more he felt you might want him to.
“Don’t say things like that if you don’t mean it,” you finally said and brushed your hair behind your ears. Reaching forward for the food again, you gave Chenle a shocked look when he grabbed your wrist.
“You’re right. I’m not going to fall for you. I already did.”
Your jaw dropped, eyes widening as his words settled in the air around both of you. With his heart racing, he released your wrist and intertwined your fingers instead.
“I really, really like you.”
“You should really eat your food before it gets cold.” You pulled your hand from his and pushed the box closer to him.
He stared blankly at the wall, noting the sudden chill on his skin that you left behind. A sinking feeling encapsulated his chest, and he knew he ruined everything. You looked like you were ready to run.
“Forget I said anything,” he told you. “I’m sorry if that was weird.”
“Eat,” you commanded again. “I’m not talking about this with you until I know you’ve eaten. If you don’t, we’ll go off on a tangent and you’ll be starving all night.”
“Does that mean you—”
“Yes, Chenle.” You interrupted him. “Yes, I really, really like you too, which is why I want to make sure you eat.”
At that moment, Chenle realized that if he walked outside and randomly dropped dead, he’d be okay with it now that he’s gotten that confession out of you. There wasn’t a damn thing that could top that. Everything else in life would be subpar to today, so there was no point in trying.
You and Chenle ate in silence. He kept stealing glances at you, catching you doing the same to him. If all he had to do in order to get you to talk about your feelings with him was eat, he’d do it, albeit probably a bit too fast for his own good.
Chenle runs his fingers through his hair, his thumb tracing gentle shapes against the bare skin of your arm. These memories have no business popping up in the middle of the night. He has practice tomorrow. He’ll be so off his game, the other members will want to kill him.
Usually, he has no problem falling asleep, especially with you right beside him. Over the past year, you’ve probably spent more nights with him than you have at your own place. He teases you for it all the time, but he wouldn’t have it any other way.
Closing his eyes, he listens to the soft sounds of your breathing and allows himself to feel the way your body slots with his so easily. Everything about you is perfect. About the two of you together. He would toss and turn, but no way is he going to disturb you. Even if he can’t sleep, he’d never screw up your schedule on purpose.
“It’s so pretty.” You were in awe, staring at the sunset from Chenle’s backyard. He’d set up a picnic date for the two of you, and afterward, you were watching the sun fade below the treeline while lying on top of a red blanket.
His fingers were intertwined with yours, something that had become so normal for you. Two weeks since his confession, and it was the second date he planned. He wondered, obsessed over, even, what your thought process was on all of this. Were you happy? Did he make you happy?
He wanted to kiss you when he confessed to you. And while he came close to it on your first date, he decided against it. It had to be perfect. Nothing was good enough for you in his mind, especially when all he wanted was to make sure you knew just how he felt about you.
How was he supposed to tell you that?
He’d already said he fell for you, but that didn’t begin to cover it. Not really. You made him want to put in effort, made him crave your happiness like it was the very oxygen he breathed. At the same time, he didn’t want you to think he didn’t want to kiss you. Hell, he’d already dreamed of it, for fuck’s sake, so that definitely wasn’t the issue.
Lost in thought, he’s only snapped out of it by the way you rolled over, lying on your stomach so you can get a good look at his face. You rested your head on your right palm, your left finding his bicep.
“You’re so perfect,” he hummed, twirling your hair with his fingers. “Could look at you forever.”
“Some people might have an issue with that.” You laughed.
“We’re the only ones that matter,” he responded.
Your smile slowly faded, a look of longing replacing it as your gaze softened.
God, he wanted to kiss you. He needed to.
All thoughts of the perfect moment have fled from his brain. Any moment would be perfect as long as it’s you.
He sat up and you leaned forward, and before he knew it, his nose brushed yours. Your eyes fluttered shut in preparation. The heat of the sun sank into his skin. Your perfume wafted from you, intertwining with the air and suffocating him in the best ways. If he could pick one scent to smell for the rest of his life, it would be yours.
Was it normal to have these thoughts so early?
Why was he thinking of that right now? Literally the worst possible time.
“Can I?” he whispered, scared to ruin everything.
“Yes.”
As soon as the word left your mouth, he kissed you. Everything about you was soft, so he shouldn’t have been so surprised to find your lips the same way. His hands shook as he touched your waist.
He was already in big trouble. There wasn’t a single part of him that wanted to stop there. His heart thudded so loud, he was halfway sure you could hear it, too. It felt like sparks flew between you two, absolute electricity coursing through every single one of his veins, heating up his bloodstream and making the thought of pulling away from you the absolute worst case scenario.
You moved away first, gasping for breath. Chenle craved tugging you back to him. His body reacted to you in ways it had never reacted to anyone else. He didn’t want to take it too far, but he sure as hell didn’t want to stop, either.
He couldn’t describe the way you felt. The way you tasted. Everything about you was so heart-achingly perfect, he wanted to experience you all the time. He wanted to rewind time so he could kiss you again for the first time, and he’d do it over and over and over again.
Something about first kisses set him on fire. He was absolutely sure he’d kiss you more. In fact, he was seconds away from it. But the adrenaline coming from the very first brush of your lips on his wasn’t something he’d ever be able to recreate.
“Again.” You leaned in once more.
He met you in the middle eagerly, hand finding the back of your head before he turned you so you were lying on your back. Half of his weight pressed against you, but he did his best to keep himself lifted up so you weren’t uncomfortable.
Unforgettable heat swarmed him, the sun caressing his skin as your fingers gently traced down the back of his neck. Goosebumps formed, but he could hardly pay attention to them. The entire world was gone, and you were everything, the only person remaining in a sea of nothingness. He wanted you. Needed you.
This was technically your second kiss, but in his mind, it was still the first since they happened almost at the same time. He hadn’t stopped to take a breath in much too long, but he’d rather suffocate than separate from you.
He stopped when your breath hitched, completely lost in the sound. When he wasn’t focusing on your mouth anymore, he realized why—his hand had somehow found its way to your upper thigh. His face burned as he removed it.
“I didn’t…” he trailed off, scanning over your face for any hint of what you were feeling. “I didn’t mean to do that.”
You chuckled at him, pushing his shoulder. “You wish that excuse would work on me.”
The sky faded into a beautiful lilac color, the kind that only appeared when the sun was barely peeking over the horizon. Clouds drifted effortlessly, stars beginning to shine.
“Should we go inside?” Chenle asked. “It’ll get cold without the sun.”
Whenever he looked at you, he knew you were different. He couldn’t place how, but nobody else had ever made him feel the way you do. Like his heart was going to burst out of his chest while simultaneously stopping and also skipping every other beat. He didn’t even know how he was alive anymore.
In the last two weeks since his confession, the boys had told him how much happier he was. How he was striving with more effort lately and trying his best at any given moment of the day. You were his motivation. You made him want to be the absolute best he could be, and even as new as the relationship was, he’d already known you for months—he was nervous about you deciding you wanted something else. Someone who wasn’t him.
The moment before replayed in his head, and he heard that breath hitch on repeat while he awaited your answer. He did his best to stop thinking about it, but nothing worked. All he wanted to do was kiss you again, over and over and over until the literal end of time.
“Yeah.” You nodded. “Let’s go inside.”
His cheeks redden just thinking of that memory. The first time he ever kissed you, and he royally fucked up because his hand didn’t know how to stay put. At this point, it’s clear he’s not going to be able to fall asleep. He hates the idea of leaving you in bed alone, but he’s only going to disturb you if he doesn’t plan on sleeping.
Sliding away from you carefully, he quietly gets up and heads into the kitchen. He runs his fingers through his hair. His hands down his face. He must be sentimental today, because he can’t stop thinking about you for the life of him. Every memory from the last year pokes at his head, and he has no clue how to handle it.
Patting his cheeks, he heads over to the fridge to grab a water bottle. Photos of the two of you are framed up on the wall. There’s one picture in particular he always says is his favorite, but he refuses to tell you why.
The two of you were sitting on the floor, and you had the cutest glare on your face. He sees the adoration gleaming in your gaze even though you look about ready to strangle him. In your defense, you probably were. He lets out a tiny laugh, tracing over the frame. 
There’s even one with Chenle between you and Jisung, and a group picture with you and the boys. Chenle loves his friends dearly, and the way they’ve welcomed you with open arms says a lot about both your relationship with them and his potential future with you. Everyone in his life loves you. You’re the one they call when Chenle’s upset or if he’s off his game, and no matter when or where this is happening, you show up to make him feel better.
He could be having the worst day of his entire existence, and a simple ‘I love you’ passing from your lips has him forgetting everything shitty about the world. Looking back at the pictures, he’s drawn back into memory.
He heard the birds outside his window before he saw the gleaming sun. His eyes fluttered open while he groaned quietly at the sudden change of brightness. Your body was like a fireball, your skin searing hot against his, but it did little to bother him. His groan turned into a sigh of content, and he wrapped his arms around you tighter. Fingertips trailing down your bare spine, he kissed your forehead.
Three months together, and every night spent with you made him fall deeper in love. He’d never known peace as he did at that moment. No interruptions, just the two of you basking in each other’s embrace.
He could’ve stayed like that forever—he wanted to, but glancing at the clock, he realized how close it was to noon. Jaemin would be there soon, and the last thing Chenle needed was him in his house when you were naked in his bed.
He reluctantly got up, dressing himself before grabbing some clothes for you. You have a drawer, multiple, actually, but he picked his own T-shirt for you to wear. When he made it over to you, you were stirring.
“You got up.” You pouted at him, staring at him through half-closed eyes. “And you have clothes on.”
Chenle laughed. “Sorry, love. Jaemin will be here soon.”
“It’s that late?” you asked.
Chenle nodded, setting the clothes down next to you. He kissed you softly, gently, a kiss so barely there it left you leaning forward to try to continue it. Cupping your cheek, he brushed his thumb along your skin.
You didn’t need help getting dressed, but he did it anyway. He loved the way you looked in his T-shirts, and even though it’s long enough to cover you, no way he’d risk it. Once you were finished, the two of you got ready for the day. You brushed your teeth together, he watched you brush your hair, and by the time you’re done, Jaemin was walking in the front door.
The three of you sat on the floor around Chenle’s coffee table, playing a game. He can’t remember what the game was anymore, only that you were terrible at it and that he loved winning.
Jaemin teased both of you the whole time, ruffling Chenle’s hair on multiple occasions. As much as he’d love to deny it, Chenle enjoyed that Jaemin liked the two of you together. It was almost like an affirmation, even if he didn’t need one.
Being the professional picture-snapper he was, Jaemin took the picture now hanging up on Chenle’s wall. You, with your arms crossed over your chest and a big pout on your face, and Chenle, smiling widely at you with such adoration in his eyes it should’ve been impossible.
“Lele?” Your soft voice breaks him away from his memory. He turns to you quickly, heart instantly halting in his chest when he sees his shirt on you.
“What are you doing up?” he asks.
“I was gonna ask you that.” You rub your eyes, feet shuffling on the floor as you walk over to him.
“I couldn’t sleep,” he replies and takes you in his arms with ease. “Didn’t want to bug you, sunshine.”
You don’t respond. All you do is bury your head in his chest and breathe him in. He runs his fingers through your hair, kissing the top of your head. With all the lights off, the only illumination is the full moon outside as it casts shadows on the ground. The faint blue makes you that much more ethereal to him.
“You okay?” he whispers.
“Mm,” you hum in response. “This is nice.”
Chenle smiles. “Yeah, it is. Always is.”
After a bit of silence and rocking you gently, an idea sparks. He pulls his phone out of his pocket, finding the playlist he made specifically for when he thinks about you, and sets it on the counter. You stare at him in tired confusion, but when one of his arms wraps around your waist, you catch on.
“What are you doing?” Humor is laced in your voice, but the sweet look on your face tells him his actions are making you happy. That’s his goal, constantly. All he wants is to make you happy.
“Checking something off the bucket list,” he replies, slowly turning you to the soft beat.
“Something’s missing,” you say as he twirls you.
He steals a glance at the way his shirt rides up your legs, showing just a peek of your panties beneath it.
“What?” he asks, pulling you back to him.
“Sing to me.” You place your hand on his chest.
His heart betrays him at that moment. It rages, and he knows you can feel it. Chenle sings in front of thousands of people all the time, but something about you is different. Something about you right now is different.
“What’s going on up in there?” You run your fingers through his hair. “You’ve been all weird today.”
“I can’t stop thinking about you,” he admits. “Everything. From the moment we met up until this…it keeps repeating over and over again.”
“Welcome to my world,” you replied, grasping his shoulders. You massage them gently as you sway along with the music.
The confession from you makes him smile. At least he’s not the only one doing constant circles in his head. He calms a bit, and when a new song plays, he sings to you. Your body immediately relaxes into his, as if every stress you’ve ever had has left you without hesitation.
Chenle loves to sing. He does it all the time, and he only wants to keep getting better. To have someone like you as his partner, someone who supports him endlessly and genuinely loves his voice…it’s unparalleled.
He’s not sure how long the two of you are like this, or how long he’s singing for, but song after song, all he knows is that you’re smiling. You’re looking at him with unmatched adoration in your eyes, pure love. Nobody else has ever looked at him in this way, and he doesn’t want them to.
He wants to stay here with you and watch you love him in ways he’s never been loved before.
He stops. His singing fades out, and he furrows his eyebrows as he finally, finally realizes what’s been happening to him. You tilt your head, able to ask him questions without saying anything. His chest feels like it’s going to burst.
You’re it. 
You’re everything, and he’s going to marry you.
He’s going to spend the rest of his life striving to make sure you love him as much as you do right now, if not more.
It seems like you feel it, too. Your face softens and you reach up to trace along his cheekbone. He leans into your touch, chasing the warmth like it’s the last time he’ll ever feel it.
“I…” He takes a deep breath, shaking his head slowly. “I’m so fucking in love with you.”
“I know.” You grin so wide, Chenle almost thinks it’ll split your face in two.
“Good.” He brushes your hair behind your ear. “I hope I’m doing a good job in showing you that every day.”
You pause, hands trailing down from his cheeks to his shoulders. “I have never once doubted that you love me, Lele. Are you sure everything’s okay?”
“I promise you I’ve never felt better,” he replies. “Just checking in with you.”
“You do so much more than you realize. No matter how busy you are, you text me to tell me you love me or that you’re thinking about me. You practice non-stop with the boys but you still make an effort with me when you could easily use that as an excuse. There is not one thing I could ask for that you don’t already do.” You press a quick kiss to his lips. “I’ll never doubt you.”
“Sometimes I worry,” he admits. “You make me…want to be better. In every way possible. In my career, in my life, with you. And if I’m not being better every day, then I don’t deserve you.”
“Chenle.” You give him a pointed look. “When I think back to the first day we met, I remember how…how you acted from the first time you spoke to me. At the time, I really thought I was crazy, but I knew you’d be someone to me. You didn’t even know me, but you were so kind. And now that we’re here like this, you haven’t changed. There’s no getting better. You’re already the best.”
“How do you do that?” He chuckles, kissing your forehead.
“Do what?”
“Know exactly what to say.”
“That’s my special talent,” you tell him.
“We should get back to bed,” Chenle says, sleep weighing on him. “Meeting the boys tomorrow.”
He grabs his phone from the counter, his heart full and warm as he leads you back to his bedroom. This time, as he’s lying with you pressed to his chest, he’s able to fall into his dreamland.
Despite his lack of sleep, Chenle is full of energy the next day. He wakes up and makes you coffee just the way you like before sitting on the edge of the bed by your sleeping form. When he sets the cup on the nightstand, you stir, turning over to face him.
“You’re gonna be late,” you mumble, even though you have no idea what time it is.
Chenle chuckles, leaning forward to kiss your forehead. “I’ll see you in a bit, okay? You can stay here if you want. Wanted to tell you I love you before I left.”
“Love you, too,” you say with a tired smile, giving his hand a squeeze.
“Drink your coffee before it gets cold. I’ll grab dinner for us on my way back.”
Walking away from you feels like someone’s trying to rip his heart out of his chest. You’re an extension of him at this point, and after his sudden realization last night, all he wants to do is spend the day curled up with you.
Luckily for him, his day passes by pretty quickly. He got a lot done today, and he was proud of that. You’d be proud of him, too. He’s itching to get home and tell you everything that happened. Staying true to his word, he picks up your favorite takeout.
He’s going to be honest with you about what was going on with him yesterday. It’s the right thing to do—and in a perfect world, you’ll feel the same way he does. He hasn’t felt this nervous since he admitted his feelings for you. Even though that side of him feels worlds away now, he remembers it like it was yesterday.
But the restaurant isn’t the only stop he makes.
He’s shaking by the time he gets back. Is a year really enough time? It is for him, but what if you think he’s insane?
When he arrives, he’s not expecting what you’ve done at all. The main lights are off, but a dim golden glow from the strips along the wall and the candles illuminate the room enough. He sets the bag down on the table, completely forgetting about the food as he searches for you.
“(Y/N)?”
“You’re earlier than I thought you’d be,” you tell him, walking out of his bedroom while still putting in an earring.
His throat dries. He opens his mouth to speak, but no words could ever justify the way you look right now. You put on a dress, one of his favorites, and he’s in jeans and a T-shirt.
You kiss his cheek. “I figured you deserve something nice to come home to.”
“You’re my something nice.” He wraps his arm around your waist. “Should I change?”
“We’re not going anywhere.” You shake your head. “Just relax and enjoy your gorgeous girlfriend.”
“Oh, I can get on board with that.” He allows you to lead him back to the table.
Once he’s taking the food out of the bag, he keeps stealing glances at you. You put in all this effort for him, and he knows how much work it must’ve been to hang up all these lights. The golden glow looks ethereal against your skin.
“Before we eat, there’s something I wanted to talk to you about.” He clears his throat to stop it from collapsing in on itself, but it doesn’t work.
“What’s up?” You set your elbow on the table and rest your head on your palm. “Is everything alright?”
“Everything’s perfect, actually.” He takes a deep breath, reaching to grab your free hand. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.” You bite back a laugh.
“You can’t make fun of me for what I’m about to tell you.” He gives you the most serious look he can muster, and you nod.
“I wouldn’t do that,” you reassure him. “Tell me what’s on your mind.”
“I…I want to love you forever.” He gulps. “And when I think of everything we’ve gone through and been through together, I seriously can’t imagine ever trying to have anyone else fill this spot you hold in my life.”
You perk up a bit, gaze staring into his. God, he loves how interested you are in what he has to say. How you’re listening to him so intently. His thumb rubs over your knuckles as he tries to think of the words he wants to use.
“I want to marry you. Call me crazy if you want, tell me you hate the idea, that’s fine, but I had to tell you. We obviously can’t get married now, or probably any time soon because of my contract, but I want you to know that it’s what I want. It’s what’s going to happen if you want it, too.”
You clear your throat and cover your mouth with your hand, eyes welling. Chenle’s heart aches seeing this reaction, knowing you feel as strongly as he does. He reaches into his pocket and puts a small box on the table in front of you.
“It’s not the real thing. Not yet. But I want you to know how serious I am, because if I was able to marry you, I would’ve done it yesterday.” He opens it, revealing a simple band in it. “Subtle enough where people won’t ask questions, but we’ll know.”
“Chenle, are you being serious right now?” You sniffle. “This is a very cruel prank.”
“The guys and I sat down together today to write a song. I think you’ll love it, so when we record it I’m sneaking you a copy. Anyway, we were there for twenty minutes, and words were just flowing out of me. I wrote about you. About how you make me feel, and I think anyone who knows about us will understand that when they listen to the song.”
He pauses to swallow past the lump in his throat.
“I want you. I want to marry you and spend the rest of my life proving to you why I deserve that. Let me put this ring on you, and this can be the start.”
You quickly wipe your face as you nod. He takes your left hand, grabs the ring out of the box, and slips it on your middle finger.
“One day, this will be real.” Chenle catches another one of your tears. “I love you. There is not one thing in this world that could change that.”
His heart pounds in his chest as he watches your reaction. He wants to touch you and kiss you after pouring his thoughts out to you, but he needs to make sure you’re feeling the same way. The last thing he wants to do is overwhelm you.
His palms are sweaty and he can barely sit still. You groan, giving one last aggressive swipe below your eyes before you launch up from your chair and end up in his lap. You bury your head in his neck, squeezing him tighter than you should. He instinctively wraps his arms around your waist, softly chuckling at your outburst.
“You better not change your mind.” Cupping both of his cheeks, you try your best to look angry. “If you do, I’m marrying you anyway.”
His own vision blurs at the sight of you. You love him as much as he loves you, and you want to be with him forever.
You want to be with him forever.
The emotions rioting inside him surprise even him, and he blinks quickly to try and suppress the tears. It’s no use, because as soon as you notice, you start crying again. He groans and drops his head back on the chair, squeezing you closer to him.
“You’ll be the death of me,” Chenle says.
“Kiss me, you idiot.”
He doesn’t need to be told twice. His mouth finds yours, both of you falling into each other’s rhythm. Saltiness from your tears lingers on your lips. He weaves his fingers through your hair, but no matter what he does, you’re just not close enough.
Pulling away from you, he rests his forehead on yours. “You should eat, sunshine.”
“You expect me to be able to eat after all of that?” You furrow your eyebrows. “I’m afraid that’s not possible.”
“You’ll be sad if it gets cold,” he reminds you.
“I don’t think I’ll ever be sad again,” you whisper.
All thoughts escape him. Nothing else exists except for you, wrapped around him like a damn koala bear. He rests his hand on your thigh and lets your words sink deep into him.
Moments like these are hard to explain, he thinks. He’s only like this around you, so lost in his connection with you that he’s got nothing else on his mind. Anything and everything you say to him is tattooed in the darkest ink on his soul, until he’s covered in everything he wants to be for you.
“Promise me you’ll always look at me like that.” You break the silence, running your fingers through his hair and smiling.
“I promise.” He nods, barely realizing how he’s leaning forward.
Your eyes flutter shut as he inches closer. He kisses you softly, almost as if he fears he’ll break you. His fingers splay out across the small of your back and he traces shapes into the soft fabric of your dress. You’re overwhelming. His love for you is, too. So much so, he feels as if he’s going to burst out of his skin. He’s going to wake up and everything will have been a dream, because there’s no way he’d ever done anything in his life to deserve someone like you.
You hum into his mouth, rolling your hips once. His breathing stutters as his first instinct is to lift toward you. At first, he wants to stay like this, you clinging onto him like you’d be lost without him, but when you grind down a second time, he feels a twitch in his pants.
It’s been over a week since the last time he’s been inside you thanks to his schedules. And now you’re on top of him, wearing his favorite dress of yours, and kissing him like you’ll never be able to feel him again after tonight.
He’s tired, but he’s never too tired for you. Brushing your hair away, he leans down to kiss your neck, licking the expanse of your soft skin. Your pulse thunders beneath his tongue, and he has to fight the urge to bite down.
Touching you like this is different when he knows he’ll never lose you. You’re his forever.
His lips press against the sensitive spot below your ear, and the short moan escaping you just about sends him up the wall. When he pulls away to get a good look at you, your eyes are dark, lips already swollen from the way he kissed you.
He tries to catch his breath while he silently asks you if this is what you want. You nod, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. Standing, he lifts you up until your legs are secure around his waist, and he grabs your ass with one hand and the back of your head with the other.
Mouths attached, he doesn’t separate from you until he’s setting you down on his bed. He barely has time to appreciate the candles you lit in here, too, the soft scent of vanilla flooding his senses. You already try to push his T-shirt up, anything to feel his skin on yours. He obliges, pulling it over his head before returning to kissing you like his life depended on it. When your hands find the button on his jeans, he grabs your wrist.
“Patience, baby.” Chenle runs his fingers up and down your thigh. “We have the rest of our lives. Let me take my time with you tonight.”
Just like that, you’re putty in his hands. He smirks at the realization. Sneaking his touch up your leg, the hem of the dress moves to accommodate him. He stops when he feels the lace of your panties.
“Did you dress up for me twice, sunshine?” he hums.
“Always,” you say, shamelessly staring at his lips. “Do you love me, Chenle?”
His whole body vibrated from those words. They made him feel at a frequency he hadn’t quite reached yet, and all he wanted to do was rip that damn dress off.
“More than anything.”
He can’t really say it’s ‘like second nature’ anymore. There’s nothing second about it. This is you. Anything to do with you is first nature, no matter what it is. His world revolves around you, everything he does is based on what you want, and he wouldn’t change that in any way.
“Show me,” you whisper, so intoxicating he almost crumbles to his knees right in front of you.
How embarrassing that all it takes is two words to have him give in to you. He’s straining against his pants now, his cock aching to be free and buried inside you.
“Don’t worry. I will.” He kisses you again, soft and sweet like his hand isn’t so, so close to your dripping, eager core. Heat radiates from you, and all he wants is to be consumed by it.
He drags your panties down your legs, nails gently scratching your skin on the way down. Your chest rises and falls quickly as you try to regain your breath, but he loves the way you’re so desperate for him. The way you want him just as much as he wants you.
He doesn’t want to be patient anymore. Every cell in his body is urging him to connect with yours, but he wants to take care of you. That side of him always wins, otherwise both of you would probably be done already.
His finger dances along your entrance. He inhales sharply as your wetness coats his skin. You move your hips toward him, practically begging him for stimulation. He teasingly nudges your clit, pleasantly surprised by the way your body jolts.
Mouth brushing yours, he takes the second of distraction to slide two fingers inside you. As your lips part to release a moan, he mirrors the action, eyes fluttering shut as he slowly, slowly thrusts his hand.
Your walls squeeze so hard, he curses. He could fuck you a thousand times, and you’d still be as tight as you are right now. His heart goes straight into overdrive, but all the blood in his body is shooting down to his cock. He’s painfully hard, rocking back and forth gently.
He kisses you, lips working against yours in a perfect harmony. Your sounds are his favorite. He loves knowing it’s him making you feel this way, that he has the power to make your knees weak and your pussy throb.
He lets out a moan when he scissors his fingers, trying his best to prepare you. God, you’re so warm and wet and tight, he isn’t sure if he’ll be able to last long tonight. His pace quickens, sounds of your slickness filling the room.
You call out his name, back arching as you grasp desperately at his shoulders. He leans in and kisses your cheek, making sure to press his palm into your clit every time he’s knuckle deep. 
“You’re perfect, baby,” he whispers with his lips against your ear, voice rough. “I love you so much. So fucking much.”
You tense, pussy clamping down hard on his fingers as your hips buck. He swears he can see the pleasure running up your spine in the way you arch and shake. Your nails dig into his shoulders, but he’s not in the right mind to care. Your mouth opens, sounds pouring out as you finish. He loves you all the time, but one of his favorite looks on you is when he watches you orgasm—your face so overcome with pleasure he caused…he would never get enough of it.
He keeps moving until he’s sure you’ve come down from your high. When he brings his fingers up to his mouth to suck your juices off, you watch longingly, the dark look in your gaze enough to have his cock twitching in his pants.
You slide off the bed, forcing him to take a couple steps back. He’s not sure what you’re going to do at first. Your struggle to reach your zipper, and as much as he wants to bend you over with the dress still on, he wants to be gentle with you tonight. He doesn’t get to make love to you often, and that’s all he’s going to do tonight.
Instead of watching you attempt to reach it, he turns you around and pulls you to him until your back is against his chest. His hand is splayed out across your stomach, holding you so you feel how hard he is.
“I’m going crazy,” you mutter, dropping your head back. “I need you so bad.”
He moves your hair out of his way, kissing the base of your neck quickly before he unzips you. Moving slowly on purpose, he lets his finger drag along your spine on the way down. You shiver, pushing yourself back into him.
“I’m gonna make love to you.” He finally lets himself bite down on your shoulder as he nudges the straps down. “For the rest of our lives. Nobody but me.”
“Nobody but you,” you respond, allowing the dress to pool at your feet.
He turns you around, hands immediately finding your ass and squeezing it. Within seconds, he has your bra unclasped and across the room. “So beautiful.”
When your hands find his jeans, he doesn’t stop you this time. You push them down his legs, desperate to have him inside you. Once his jeans are off, you palm him through his boxers, and he needs you so badly, that simple touch almost finishes him off. That would’ve been embarrassing.
He takes off the remaining fabric separating you two before leading you over to the bed. You lie in the middle, and he climbs on top of you. He kisses you passionately, tongue already dancing with yours, both of you more than ready. His cock is so hard, he’s only half convinced he won’t cum as soon as he’s in.
He nudges your clit with his leaking tip, moving down to your entrance to apply just enough pressure before pulling away. You whine, desperate for more.
“Chenle, please.”
His head dips down as he continues teasing you, wrapping his lips around your nipple. You whimper, running your fingers through his hair. Having you so desperate for him makes him want to give you everything you’re asking for, but something makes him wait.
“Please,” you cry out, lifting your hips up. “Need you.”
He’s ready to fall apart from you words alone. Pulling away from your chest, he reaches down to line himself up with you. He watches you closely as he pushes his throbbing cock into your quivering pussy. Your eyes roll back as you arch into him.
Your walls swallow him, velvet clamping down on him. He clenches his jaw as he bottoms out and fists the sheets next to your head.
“So perfect,” he whispers, kissing your jawline.
One of his favorite things about you is how unafraid you are to look at him. Pleasure weighs on your eyelids, and you try your best not to close them, but even like this, you never look away.
He’s fully inside you, his cock seated within your fluttering walls. The last thing he wants to do is overwhelm you, so he gently rocks his hips to help you adjust. He kisses you everywhere he can reach.
“You always take me so well,” he praises you, nipping the base of your neck.
He’ll never get over how perfectly he fits between your legs, like this space was made for him.
“Move,” you tell him, smacking his shoulder.
He lets out a soft chuckle, but lowers his mouth to yours as he starts a steady pace. You squeeze him so tight, it’s like your body doesn’t want to let him out of you. He pulls out until his tip is barely inside, and then pushes back in just as slowly. It wreaks havoc on your body, your wetness squelching every time he moves.
He wants you to feel all of him. Feel the entirety of his cock rubbing your walls with every thrust.
Somehow, it’s hotter this way. A thin sheen of sweat covers his skin as he takes his time with you. Sure, he gets sweaty when he fucks you, but nothing compares to the close intimacy of love making—his chest brushing against yours with every thrust, long, sweet moans filling the otherwise quiet bedroom.
“You sing so pretty,” Chenle mutters, tonguing the sensitive spot below your ear. “You like the way I feel?”
Before he can even process what you’re doing, you wrap your legs around his waist and roll until you’re on top of him. He’s flat on his back, eyes flitting along your body like he hasn’t had a real chance to see it yet.
Candle light illuminates your skin, and the sight makes his cock twitch. He runs his hands along your sides, squeezing your hips.
Chenle likes being in control. He likes guiding you in a way that has you both in shambles by the end, and he truly underestimated how beautiful you’d look on top of him. You lift up, teasing him as slow as he was moving with you, but between the sight and the feeling, he feels an all too-familiar tingling sensation at the base of his length.
It’s too soon for him, so he decides to tug you down, holding you there while his eyes close and his head thuds against the mattress. He doesn’t need to say a word to you.
“Chenle.” You stroke a hand down his chest. “It’s okay. You don’t need to hold back for me.”
“Just…need a second.” He gulps.
When he finally catches his breath, he sits up, chest pressing against yours.
“This was supposed to be about you,” he says, moving back slightly to fit his hand between the two of you. “Showing you my love and everything.”
He finds your clit with his thumb, staring at you intently as your wetness makes it easy for him to rub circles. His other hand still firmly grips your waist, which only allows you to squirm instead of bouncing on him like you crave to do.
“I need to move,” you whimper, grinding down. “Please.”
He nods, loosening his grip on you. You brace yourself on his shoulders, finally taking his cock the way you want it. His nails dig into your thigh while he continues his work on your bud, and it only spurs you on. You move faster, no doubt trying to chase your orgasm.
His moans get louder, matching yours. If his hands weren’t so occupied, he’d want to squeeze your ass or tweak your nipples. Anything to bring you higher. He changes the patterns his thumb rubs, and it’s like a jolt of electricity runs through your body.
You curse, dropping your head on his shoulder as you nod. “Don’t stop, Lele.”
With both of you hanging so close to the edge, he waits until you’re sitting back down on his cock to buck his hips up. He doesn’t want to finish first, but he’s so close, all the warning signs of his impending high are getting far too real.
“Gonna cum,” he tells you, releasing your thigh to grab your ass.
Your walls clamp down on him hard, a long, pleasured sound escaping you as you grind down on him. Back arching, your head falls back. Your orgasm hits both you and Chenle like a freight train, and within seconds, everything inside him explodes, and he’s spilling his cum deep inside you while telling you over and over again that he loves you.
You crumple into his chest. He runs his fingers through your hair, whispering praises to you between head kisses.
“I’m gonna lay you down, sunshine,” he says.
You nod, and he turns you so he can put your back on the mattress. He carefully pulls out of you, putting his boxers back on before going into the bathroom to grab you a towel. This is one of his favorite ways to see you. Your eyes are closed, hands on your cheeks. You look like he’s fucked all the energy out of you, and he loves that he has the capability to do that.
He cleans you up, then grabs a clean pair of panties for you and one of his T-shirts.
“I have an idea,” he says.
“What is it?” You wrap your arms around him.
“You pick whatever movie you want, and I’ll go warm up your dinner?” He raises his eyebrows at you.
You fake a gasp. “Are you saying you’re going to feed me in bed?”
“After all of that, I’d agree to just about anything you want.” He chuckles when you shove his shoulder. Grabbing your hand, he twirls the band on your finger. “Wait here for me?”
When he walks out of the room, he stops at the doorway to watch you excitedly lunge for the remote. It doesn’t take long for him to warm up the food, turn off the lights, and blow out the candles in the kitchen.
The rest of the night is spent with the two of you sitting against the headboard, laughing along to your favorite movie while eating your favorite takeout. So many thoughts have come and gone from Chenle’s brain in the past couple days alone, but he’s more than happy he gets to sit here with you every night for the rest of his life.
He’s lost in your laugh and the way you smile at him and how you make his heart race with the simplest things. None of the other members knew about the ring he bought you, but he’ll tell them soon.
After the food is gone, Chenle cleans it up. There’s still half a movie left, so when he gets back, he pulls the comforter back so you can cuddle up to him for the remainder. Even though the candles have long since been put out, vanilla still clouds the air.
“Love you,” Chenle whispers, kissing your temple.
“Love you, too.” You sigh in content, resting your head on his chest.
He knows that means you’re only seconds from sleep, and he rubs your arm soothingly. The movie continues to play, but neither of you are paying attention anymore—you’re asleep, and Chenle’s thinking about what kind of wedding dress you’ll wear.
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hotdsworld · 1 month
Text
"Weirdo"
Librarian!Michael Gavey x client!f!Reader
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A/n: first time writing for Michael! Credits for dividers/gifs to @cafekitsune
Word count: 2,3k
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Summary: you were only supposed to return the book.
Warnings: dubcon (I wouldn't say it but it's better to be safe), oral (m receiving), fingering, p in v, unprotected, mentions of creampie, DEGRADATION,
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You were a messy person, forgetting a lot of things. It wasn't your fault, you were just busy and had a lot going on in your life. So finally, after a year or so you decided to give that book back after people from the library began to bother you with calls and messages. You walked inside, it was surprisingly empty… or maybe not surprisingly, who comes to the library these days?“Good morning,” you leaned against the desk, you just wanted to get it over with quickly. The librarian looked quite new, a typical nerdy man. “Good morning. What can I help you with?” He was a little awkward but you didn't mind, perhaps it was ages since he saw a woman. “I would like to return the book,” you placed it down. The man fixed his glasses, took a look at the book, and then checked something in his laptop. You took your time analyzing the man instead. His name was Michael, you figured by his tag. “The book was due a year and seven months ago,” Michael didn't look too happy. You could feel the judgment in his tone.“Well, I doubt anyone else would like this book anyway so it's not much of a problem. Just tell me how much I have to pay,” you didn't have time for this. Michael’s eyes narrowed, he was already annoyed with you. Michael hated people like you, entitled and arrogant. So he didn't hesitate to name the price. Your jaw almost hit the floor, there was no way you could pay that much. “Maybe… we could handle it another way? I could…” you ran your fingers along the fabric of his shirt. Michael sucked in a breath, his cheeks flushed. Michael grabbed your hand, the book in another, and pulled you away somewhere. He took you away to some office.  “Maybe you could,” he closed the door behind you. You looked around, the office was nothing special.   “So you want-” you were interrupted by Michael pushing you to your knees. “That amount was huge. So you will be a smart girl for once and let me use you. How about that, huh? Use you like a whore?” Michael unbuckled his belt. You bit your bottom lip, you weren't sure whether to run or stay, but you didn't want problems. “This one time and then our ways will part,” you demanded. Michael chuckled, pulling his pants down.
"Sure, sweetheart. Now come on, suck me off like a good whore,” his cock was already hard, pressed against his abdomen. Michael was a little bigger than average, you hated to admit but you were curious about how he would feel inside you. You wrapped your hand around his cock unsure, slowly stroking it to get a feel of him. “I like it sloppy,” Michael informed you. You spat on his cock multiple times, smearing the spit all over his cock, stroking him slowly. Michael wasn't getting laid too often, well, practically he didn't get laid at all perhaps that was one of the reasons for him to be so aggressive about it, perhaps it was your behavior. He wanted to punish and degrade you and if he was going to get the pleasure from it? Michael was all in. He tilts his head back as your tongue swirls around his tip. Michael grunts he could tell that you were experienced, and that made him hate you even more. Michael, the smart man with a good job was getting less sex than a stupid bitch like you? You were sucking on his tip gently, swirling your tongue around it. “Stop playing with it. Suck me off properly, slut” Michael growls. He was getting annoyed at little things, wanting to punish you. 
“Try to be nicer,” you hissed. Michael shook his head amused before tangling his fingers into your hair.
“I am nice by letting your whorish filthy mouth to suck me off. You should be grateful, otherwise, you would be paying huge money for being a lazy bitch. Now open your mouth and repay me for wasting my time on you,” Michael didn't give you a chance to answer. As soon as you opened your mouth he pushed his cock inside. His eyes rolled back at the feeling of your mouth enveloping his dick. “Oh fuck, yes. So warm and wet,” he grunts. His hips involuntarily bucking forward, making you gag. Michael didn't care as he kept going. It's been so long since someone sucked him off, and it didn't feel as good as you… “Take it, take it, you little slut. It's the only thing you’re good for,” Michael whimpers, thrusting into your mouth harshly. Your eyes watering, motherfucker knew what he was doing, abusing your mouth and throat. “Move that tongue, I want to feel it,” Michael grunts, getting closer. His cock aching to cum into something else than his fist or his pillow. He hated you because normally, you wouldn't look at him, you wouldn't consider him as a potential partner… or even hook up. Maybe he said a bigger amount than you actually had to pay but you were dumb enough to believe it so that's on you. Miguel didn't miss you rolling your eyes, so he pushed himself deeper. “Don’t act like you are doing me a favor. I'm doing you a favor, whore. You have to pleasure me, not just be there rolling your eyes.” You weren't in a position to argue with him, not when his cock was bullying your mouth. You had to hold yourself back from rolling your eyes, twirling your tongue around his shaft as he continued to fuck your mouth. “Yeaaaa, fuck. Just like that, what a good fucktoy,” his movements came to a full stop, his hips shuddered as he came inside your mouth. You swallowed quickly, not wanting to feel the taste of it. Michael slowly pulled his cock out of your mouth, his hands letting go of your hair. You stood up slowly, looking at him intently.
“This should be enough,” at least you hoped so, but Michael had a different plan. He was touch-starved, he wasn't going to let you go just after one simple blowjob. 
“Do you think so, sweetheart? Do you want me to remind you of the amount you would have to pay?” Michael smirked, noticing your jaw clenching. He wanted that… to see you annoyed, degraded, ashamed. 
“What else do you want?” You were so close to snapping. That man was fucking weird, he wasn't your type but there was something about him.
“Try to be nicer,” he repeated your words, approaching you slowly. “Take those slutty little clothes off,” his eyes scanned your body, analyzing you as you undressed slowly. Michael was hard again, it took one glance at your naked body for his cock to be hard like a rock. “Bend over the desk,” he could barely hold himself back. Michael just wanted to pounce on you and fuck you like there was no tomorrow, but he had to prepare you first. You bent over the desk as he asked, your ass and dripping pussy exposed. Michael ran his fingers around your entrance, to see how wet you were. “You’re fuckinf dripping. Did sucking my cock make you so wet? What a slut,” he mocks, pushing one of his long fingers in. Michael bit his bottom lip feeling how easy it was to slide his finger in… he was already imagining how it would be with his cock. 
“What makes you so sure I wasn't wet before?” You didn't want to give this bastard satisfaction. Michael scoffed, pushing the second finger inside.
“Oh, but I can bet that you weren't. The feeling of my cock was what got you dripping, imagining how it would feel inside of you,” he chuckled. “You clenched, is what I'm saying the truth? Your slutty lips won't admit it but your hole tells me everything I need to know,” Michael continued to fuck you with his fingers, his other hand on your back pressing you down to the desk.
“That feels good,” you moan. Michael spent a lot of his free time learning woman's anatomy and how to please one the most. Michael knew how deep he needed to move his fingers and when to curl them to hit the best spot. As much as you hated it, that weirdo was making you feel good. 
“I know it does, sweetheart. Look at you, a little more obedient now,” he cooed, moving his fingers faster. His thumb rubbing your clit, and you closed your eyes as the waves of pleasure were hitting you. 
“Don’t stop, right there,” you whimper, moving your ass back to feel his fingers even deeper, but Michael pulled them out completely. You looked over your shoulder like you wanted to question him. Michael smirked.
“You do enjoy this after all? Oh, but you were acting so unbothered before, sweetheart,” Michael pressed his dick against your dripping entrance. Your breath hitched, he was really going to fuck you. “Don’t worry, you still have a chance to cum… on my cock,” he entered you slowly, granting you the mercy of adjusting to his size. Michael bit his tongue to prevent his whimper, the way your walls gripped his cock almost caused him to cum right here and right now. “Fuck, you’re tight,” Michael gives a few more slower thrusts before going faster and deeper. “Didn’t expect it from a slut like you,” he grunts. His cock fits inside you perfectly, filling you up… you could even feel the vein on the side of his cock. Michael was getting lost in the feeling of being inside you, your velvet walls enveloping his hard cock. Michael knew that he wouldn't let you go so easily, he needed to think of a way to keep you attached, to make you come back to him. Your moans were like music to his ears.
“Yes, that feels incredible. More, please, more,” you whimper. In this position you could feel everything, you could take him balls deep and it felt like heaven. 
“It does, doesn't it? You love being fucked and used like a whore. My personal cumdump, my fucktoy,” Michael reached for something before pulling you up by your hair. He put the same book that you wanted to return, it was opened on a certain page. “I will let you cum if you read this for me. What do you think?” Michael just wanted to dump his load inside you, but he couldn’t resist playing with you a little. His fingers teasing your clit, to make you even more desperate.
“I can't, I can't,” you whimper and mewl. He was fucking you dumb and you were sure as hell that you were in no state to read. 
“Come on, read that fucking book. I'm sure you didn't read this at all, dumb slut,” Michael groans, pounding into you even harder. Your vision was blurry, you could barely see the words on the page. You blinked a few times in a row to focus on the book.
“All that he dreamed of was fucking-” you interrupted yourself to moan. Your orgasm was nearing and you weren't sure how to hold it back.
“Read, whore. If you don't read I will stop,” his balls ached and his cock was twitching but he needed to torture a little, to make you desperate for it. Your hands gripping the desk, you weren't sure how much more of this you could take.
“Was fucking her full of his cum, to plant something inside of her, something that would bond them forever,” Michael’s cock began to hit your G-spot repeatedly. You gave up on reading the book, you could barely keep yourself up.
“I'm going to cum, I'm going to cum. Please, please don't stop. Please, the next time I will hold it,” you begged desperately, the control slipping away. Michael chuckled, you already mentioned next time, he had you in his grasp and he didn't intend to let you go.
“Come on, whore. You couldn't keep that slutty cunt for much longer, could you? That's okay, we will make a proper you of you in the future,” Michael encourages, rubbing your clit faster. Little whimpers escaping him, his cock was twitching, desperate to finish inside. With his other hand, he pulled your hair harshly. 
“Oh, yes… Michael! Oh, fuck…” your body trembled, your juices dripping down yours and his thighs.
“Such a good slut. Such a fucking good whore, fuck!” Michael moaned loudly as your walls clenched around his cock tightly, he managed to push in and out a few times before he came deep inside of you. He rested his forehead against your back as both of you were catching your breaths. You closed your eyes, trying to calm yourself. It was intense, nothing like you had before. He wasn't your type but surprisingly, that nerd fucked you better than anyone else before. Michael pulled out of you slowly, wiping his tip against your thigh before pulling his pants back up. You stood up, your legs shaking a bit, your cheeks flushed. Michael adored that sight as much as he hated you, you were so goddamn pretty and cute. You moved to reach some tissues but Michael stopped you, grabbing your wrist. “Don’t clean yourself. Dress back up, I want you to walk with my cum in your panties for the rest of the day, got it, slut?” Michael let go of your wrist. 
“Fuck you,” you hissed, gathering your clothes. He smirked to himself as you gave him the death stare, dressed quickly and left… he knew you would be back.
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psychwxrdd · 1 month
Text
you are unfixable.
rafe is a possessive individual. obsessive, controlling. but you love him, right? so you surely must obey when he tells you not to do something, thats what he expects and thats how it will be. you're his.
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warnings: abusive relationship, toxic boyfriend, possessive and obsessive behaviour, side jj x reader, domestic violence
(not mine gif)
the air felt scary inside his car, you were quietly staring at the window, not even breathing properly, scared of how your boyfriend would react. the silence made you even more anxious that if he was yelling instead.
no music, nothing. just the sound of the wheels.
till he broke it.
"what were you two even talking about? huh?"
"i told you, rafe, he just tried to have a normal conversation!" you said clearly annoyed.
he glanced at you.
"i already told you several times, i don't want you talking to that guy!" he almost shouted. his face looked red. his tone was harsh, but he tried not to scream yet.
"rafe...this is crazy! please, see things how they really are, i'm your girlfriend! it is not like i would go out there flirting with anyone else, i love you!"
you wanted to cry at how angry and sad you felt.
"i- i know, but..." he nodded his head, staring at his own hands "i know jj likes you, okay? and i just want to make sure he doesn't think he stand a chance with you"
"what are you talking about?" you furrowed your eyebrows. jj and you were never close, but whenever you had the opportunity to talk, it was something nice, fresh. he was a good company. you were sure he never saw you as anything else than a possible friendship.
"i see how he looks at you... the same way as i do, y/n" you breathed heavily. rafe wasn't just dramatic, he was THE drama queen himself. "don't give me that look!"
"what look?"
"the one you're giving me right now! like...like i'm crazy or something!" his eyes were full of tears, he was holding the steering wheel with a tight grip, his hands looked white.
"look" you said, trying to calm down . there was a brief moment of silence, you were thinking about the right words. "i've been thinking a lot about it, and... rafe, i'm not being healthy for you. our relationship is not healthy for you."
his eyes went wide, knowing what you were about to say. his heart beated so fast he considered he would might have a heart attack.
he knew it. he knew he was a fucking freak, but he couldn't find a healthier way to cope. he was totally, completely obsessed with you, he felt like throwing up by the mere thought of life without you. he knew it was far more than love, he knew it was sick.
"you need to focus on yourself by now, you know? try to stay clean, go see a therapist, take care of your mind and soul-"
before you could finish, he raced the car again. but this time, much faster than before.
"rafe, slow down!"
he kept going faster and faster, till the point where you were almost crying.
"RAFE! STOP!"
he didn't. and thats when you grabbed his arm, desperatedly trying to make him stop.
"please, please rafe, stop right now!"
you were so scared. it was a dark road, you could barely see anything in front of you.
he stopped.
you were breathless. your heart felt anxious, remembering the times where your dad used to fight with your mom and race the car, exactly like this, and threat to kill you and her.
rafe grabbed your wrist on his arm, tightly. "look at me"
you stared immediately, scared for your life. for some reason, you had jj in mind. would this ever happen if you were with him instead? what about the calm, fresh love you always wanted? this wasn't life. love wasn't supposed to be this dark. what if you had never met rafe and were close to jj instead?
of course he was also up for some trouble, but clearly not as extreme as your boyfriend.
"i love you more than i even love myself. but that doesn't mean i will let you hurt me like this and be just fine" he then cupped your jaw. you couldn't hold your sobs anymore.
"i can't live without you, baby, i'm not even phisically able to do it... so you're gonna be with me for the rest of my goddamn life, you get it? i'm gonna marry you soon and we're gonna leave this piece of shit of island, and it's gonna be just us. none of those filthy friends you have, none else but me and you." he tapped your head with his fingers, he didn't blink during the whole time he was saying this. staring at you dead in the eyes. "i'm not joking when i say that i would kill for you, and that including you, baby. you're not gonna leave me, ever"
"i wish i never met you" you cried. immediately regreting, but your emotions were speaking louder.
the slap was so hard you felt like your face and ear was burning on fire.
"we're gonna wash that little pretty mouth of yours once we get home."
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mvltisstuff · 5 months
Note
hi omg thought of this while rewatching s2 ep3 with the earthquake but okay so there’s the little montage of everyone being happy and eddie running to christopher - but what if there’s something similar for buck? instead of him being with abby he’s dating reader and reader has a lowkey job (maybe librarian at an elementary school?) so when he gets home the first thing he does is yell for reader and then holds them and they both shed a few happy tears just talking about how happy they are that the other is okay.
you’re honestly the bestest and i am saying this in advance that this is gonna be fabulous, as always. PLEASE AND THANK YOU!! <333
something in the orange - e.b
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summary: request
evan buckley x reader
gif
a/n: the end of this ask was literally so sweet, i appreciate this so so much and i’m so happy you enjoy my works, that’s why i do them <33
buck was so sick and tired of watching everyone else have someone to run to. he hated having to see everyone in each others arms, watching a warm embrace ensue in front of him, just wanting it to be him instead. it was years on end of him watching kids with their parents, husbands with their wives, friends with their own friends. he always had the quick breakfast with a lay in bed, but he never had the long run of love that was supposed to come with it.
he thought his parents would be able to supply that love for him, but he must’ve been mistaken. they had no issue jumping out on every little thing in his life, nonetheless missing out on it. there was only so much love maddie could give, and he needed every drop of it. he thought maybe, someone mature like abby would come with the cherishing attitude to stay, but it left as fast as she did.
the earthquake had given a huge jumble to bucks brain, being able to save a bunch of people, but just wanted to go home at the same time. it felt selfish, and he hated himself for it, but how could he wish for anything else but just to be with y/n at home? he’s seen calamity and chaos the entire day, a constant strain of it into his shift. he’s seen death, broken bones, sobs, blood, anything that one doesn’t want to see. it took incredible pursuing to make bobby let buck take a break, but he could see he needed it.
he held his phone shakily in his hand, squinting over y/n’s name on the screen being darkened by the sunlight. he was nervous to even press the call button, not knowing if she’d be the one to pick it up, or an emergency responder who had her phone.
“hi, baby,” her sweet voice rang through the phone, leading him to sigh out and he couldn’t contain the light smile that formed on his lips. “are you ok?”
“i’m fine, i just wanted to hear your voice, make sure you’re ok.”
“we’re alright over here, there’s still kids here that need to get picked up, but they’re going pretty well with the evacuations.”
“i’m sorry i didn’t get over there, i got sent in the opposite direction.” y/n was working at the school on the other side of the city. buck was, of course, sent to work on the east side. he wanted to be able to save her, even if she wasn’t in trouble. he wanted to touch her so he knew she was breathing and alright, but he’d have to wait.
“don’t apologize, you’re doing amazing, buck,” she reassures him, letting his mind relax for a moment as she speaks to him. “go do your job, i’ll see you tonight, i promise.”
“i just want to see you.”
“i know, but you can in a few hours. do it for me, ok?”
“i love you, so much.”
“i love you, too, buck.”
the moment his fingers connected with the cold metal of the door, he instantly twisted it open to reveal the dim, yellowish lighting in his home. he felt like the introduction to his apartment felt like the ground stopped shaking. he was so excited to be able to rest, lay in his bed with y/n in his arms.
the thick soles of his shoes thumped against the ground as he threw his bags onto the floor. his shoulders instantly slumped and his feet automatically led to the stairs.
“hey,” y/n spoke, drying her hair with a towel to the side as it rested on her shoulder.
“hi.” he replied, slowly blinking his eyes.
“baby, you’re exhausted.” y/n steps forward down a few steps, standing a few inches taller than buck for once. her hands run over his shoulder blades, wandering over his skin and magically lifting the tension and stress from the earthquake.
“i know,” he says. “i just wanted you so bad today. there wasn’t a minute where you weren’t on my mind.”
“i’m here for good, buck. i’m not going anywhere, and i want you to get some rest.” she grabs his hand, pulling him up the steps and leading him to sit on the bed. he strips down to his boxers, leaving him shirtless as he puts on a warm hoodie that y/n handed him. he stops by the bathroom, washing his face as y/n prepares the bed for the two of them.
“i got you ice water, i left it on the nightstand.” y/n smiles softly up at him as he walks back in. “i turned the AC up, since you like it cold and i turned on the mattress heater.”
“you treat me too well, honey.”
“you did amazing work today, you deserve the treatment of a saint. come lay with me, please?”
“don’t have to ask twice.”
he crawls back into the bed as y/n dims the lights and turns their TV on. the white lights brighten their faces as he leans into her chest. his cheek rests right against the middle of her breasts, over her heart.
her arm is wrapped warmly around under his arm, the other hand rubbing his short hair. one of his legs lay between hers, his hands running against her sides. he breathes softly matching the rhythm of her, letting the noises of her gentle words and quiet noises from the TV lull him to sleep, allowing his deserving body to rest against the person he calls home.
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star-wrote · 10 months
Text
nsfw alphabet : daryl dixon
character: Daryl Dixon x fem!Reader
warnings: | nsfw(obviously) | swearing | sexual details | mentions of daryl’s trauma | intentional lowercase | 18+ |
a/n: recently became obsessed with this man. there aren’t enough nsfw alphabets of him so enjoy :)
(not my gif or character)
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A- aftercare (what they’re like after the act)
daryl thinks the aftercare is the best part of it all. it took a while to break down the habit of him just rolling over and falling asleep, but he got there eventually. he holds you and makes sure you're okay, cleaning you up if necessary. he lets you curl up into him, wanting to feel your warm breath on his skin. you listen to each other’s heartbeats, and drift into an exhausted sleep.
B- body part (their favorite part of both of your bodies)
daryl dixon loves every part of you. he doesn’t say that his favorite are your tits or ass, that’s something merle would say, and it just doesn’t sit right with him. instead, he thinks that your eyes are his favorite part of you. he likes that he can communicate with you just through the looks you give each other. he loves that he has to ask you to keep them open and look at him when he's making you feel too good to do so.
your favorite part of daryl are his thighs. big, strong, and sturdy; the perfect seat. his thigh can fit perfectly between your legs, holding your hips with his giant hands. his hands. you suppose that they could also be your favorite.
C- cum (anything to do with it)
since it’s the apocalypse, you and daryl decide that it’s better to be safe and not cum inside you. even though it takes every ounce of his control not to. he opts for pulling out and humming on your stomach instead. but you better prepare for when he finds condoms on a run because he will fuck you like it’s your last time together. which, hey, it could be.
D- dirty secret (self explanatory)
other than wanting to cum inside you, daryl really wants to fuck you alone in the woods, up against a tree. he knows it’s not very practical, especially with the dead walking around. he just can’t help but thinking how hot it would be for you to try and be quiet as not to draw in any walkers. 
E- experience (do they know what they’re doing)
most of daryl’s experience came from random drunk hookups that merle pressured him into before the world ended. it involved dramatic moans from the women, and daryl being too stuck in his head to remember anything else. he was open to you teaching him what felt good, and picked up on it fast. as a hunter, he has always been observant, and that doesn’t leave when it comes to your pleasure. he watched every expression, and hears every hitch in your breath to learn what makes you feel good. he asks if you're liking it, which sounds like sinful dirty talk to you.
F- favorite position (self explanatory)
it started out being doggie style, because he just couldn't bear for you to look at him or his scars. but with some gentle begging from you, he decided that he couldn't bear for you to not look at him. missionary is now his favorite, because he can still control the situation, and see the pleasure in your eyes at the same time.
G- goofy (how serious are they)
daryl is obviously very serious when it comes to the outside world, which doesn’t really change when it comes to the bedroom. since you managed to relax him and get him comfortable enough around you to break his walls down, he lets little laughs and smiles come through at your jokes, but not without jokingly telling you to stop.
H- hair grooming habits (how much hair do they have down there)
it is the apocalypse, so grooming isn’t necessarily the most important. the carpet matches the drapes. plus he doesn’t expect you to shave, so why should he? in fact, when you did shave one time, he freaked out and begged you to never do it again(unless you wanted to of course), which warranted a sigh of relief from you. he says that only bitches eat shaved pussy.
I- intimacy (romantic or rough/dirty)
it was always hard for daryl to bring out his romantic side, but he tries so hard for you. he grunts out praises and a little “love ya s’much” when he cums, letting you know that you’re the only one on his mind. 
J- jack off (how often do they masturbate)
literally never. it isn’t very convenient, and he never really has a high sex drive. when he does get turned on, it’s because you’re right there. no point in taking care of it himself when you're in front of him.
K- kinks (self explanatory)
daryl never got a chance to explore his kinky side before the apocalypse since most of his experience was with women who he didn’t trust or love. when he started to trust you in the bedroom(or where the apocalypse allows), you both started to experiment with what you are into.
  -size kink: he loves when you look so small compared to him
  -daddy kink: this one felt weird to him at first since you were younger than him, but he couldn’t help the twitch in his dick when you called him that while you were cumming (it is definitely used more after that)
L- location (where they like to get it on)
anywhere that is safe and gives you time to explore each others bodies is his favorite. still, the idea of fucking you in the woods sounds hot to him...
M- motivation (what turns them on)
anytime he sees you taking down walkers, or just overall being badass, he gets a little turned on. also when you look at him with your big doe eyes, he has to control himself from taking you in front of everyone.
N- no (turnoffs or absolutely won’t do)
daryl isn't into hurting you in any way, especially because of what he went through in his childhood. he sees it as somehow becoming like his father, and that is something that he hates. so big no on hurting you, even if he does think you're pretty when you cry.
O- oral (do they prefer receiving or giving)
one of daryl’s favorite sights is you on your knees for him, with tears streaming down your face as you try and fit all of him in your mouth. however, that sight can't compare to how you look when he’s between your thighs. he thinks he must've died and gone to heaven when he sees your breasts rising and falling with each deep breath. the little tugs on his hair and the praise from your lips makes him decide that he loves going down on you more than anything.
P- pace (do they prefer fast or slow)
when he’s had a long day or just wants to get some anger out, he wants to go fast and rough. usually he goes slow and deep, just to feel all of you for as long as he can.
Q- quickie (do they like them)
quickies have become a must in some cases, especially if you don't have much time because you're on a run, or you have to get a round in before the group wakes up. he always makes sure to make every time you're together special, no matter how short.
R- risk (do they like to try new things)
he’s never been a risky guy, but if you suggested something to try, he would consider. as long as he knows you're safe, he is down for anything.
S- stamina (how many times and how long each round)
even though he’s older than you, his stamina is immaculate. even if he’s tired, he knows how to make you cum enough to tire you out.
T- toys (do they like using them)
since most things gathered on runs get checked, toys aren't really a priority. if you’re with him on a run, you two might find one and use it, but you don't dare bring it home with you. daryl likes to pleasure you by himself anyway.
U- unfair (how often do they tease)
such a tease. when he’s feeling especially cocky, he likes to have complete control over you, which includes controlling your orgasm. he will edge you for what feels like an eternity, just because he loves hearing your pretty voice beg all pathetically. 
V- volume (how loud are they)
he adapted to being very quiet because most of the time you were together were around the group, or outside where walkers could hear. his grunts, moans, and dirty talk start coming through when the group finds safety, or when you are on runs in a safer place. he definitely starts going on runs with you just to fuck you and hear your moans.
W- wild card (anything random)
daryl had never been one for talking, but when his dick is deep inside your wet pussy, he can’t help but spout the dirty thoughts that come to his mind. whether it’s praise, degradation, or the occasional swear, he knows it works you up from how you whimper and clench around him.
X- x-ray (what’s going on down there)
long and thick, a couple of prominent veins, and a slight upward curve. this man walks like he has a big dick.
Y- yearning (sex-drive level)
very very low before he met you, but now he wants to fuck you every night if able.
Z- zzz (how fast do they fall asleep)
maybe it was his body adapting to living on the run, or never getting good sleep as a kid, but daryl takes ages to fall asleep. having your body next to him helps, and he starts to feel safe enough to let his guard down and sleep. however, he does wrap a protective arm around you just in case <3
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itsjusthockey · 6 months
Text
Hung Up - Quinn Hughes
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He's a captain. I’m so happy.
This was supposed to be a happy fic 🧐🤔
I will probably write something happy for him because I am currently living for him
Enjoy and submit requests
w.c: 889 (credit to gif maker)
You finally dip into the realm of the unconscious when your phone begins buzzing on your bedside table. The loud noise, coupled with the bright light of your upward-facing phone, makes you cringe. You debate ignoring it; you should ignore it. Yet, that little voice in your head makes you roll to the side and look down to see who is calling you this late in the evening.
When you see the contact, you want to throw your phone at the fucking wall.
Of course, it’s him.
The buzzing continues, and you stare hard, hoping if you focus enough, the contact will change. You know the simple thing to do is ignore it, but when it keeps ringing, you finally grab the device and click answer.
You’re met with a seemingly dead line when you pick up. He’s never been great with words or emotions, for that fact, so neither of you speak. Instead, you both sit there for another minute before he finally breaks the silence.
“I got it.”
The three words are rushed, but you know exactly what he’s talking about.
“I got it, just like you said I would.”
As he finishes, he lets out a shaky breath, and you can hear him shuffling around.
You don’t know what to say; you really don’t. If it were a month ago, you would have cried happy tears, flown to Vancouver, and partied until the break of dawn. Now, you can’t even find a word to express what you’re feeling. And if you’re being honest, you don’t know what you’re feeling.
“(Y/N)?” His voice is small, and you cringe at the softness of it.
“Yeah, um, that's amazing, Q,” you pause to breathe out. “You deserve it.”
The conversation dies again, and you find yourself staring into the darkness, wondering how the hell you got here. You should hang up, knowing you should remove every aspect of him, but you stay on the line.
Minutes tick by until he speaks again.
“Luke and Jack told me you’ve been ignoring them.”
The mention of Luke and Jack sparks a fire within you, breaking the uneasy silence.
“That’s not fair, Quinn," you retort, your voice edged. "I haven't been avoiding them intentionally. It's just... it's complicated."
There's a tense pause on the line, and you can practically hear the hesitation in his voice as he responds.
“I know. They're just worried about you, about us.”
You let out a soft I know and take a deep breath, trying to collect any of your scattered thoughts. You feel millions of emotions, and you wonder why he keeps doing this to you. Every time you feel okay, he drags you back. Suddenly, you feel one specific emotion: anger.
“Why did you call me Quinn?”
He stammers for a second, and you continue.
“I am trying my best to move the fuck on here. I have finally got my shit together for the first time in weeks, and suddenly you wanna talk? Pull me back just enough so I can keep thinking about you?”
Quinn's silence on the other end is deafening, and you can almost feel the weight of your anger hanging in the air. It's a valid question, and you need an answer.
“I promise I’m not trying to mess with your head, (Y/N)," he finally admits. "I just... I wanted you to hear it from me. It felt wrong not to tell you."
Your anger begins to subside, replaced by a mixture of frustration and sadness. You do know Quinn, better than anyone else, and you know he's not intentionally trying to hurt you.”
“I get it. Every day I want to call you and tell you about the shitty day I’m having. But I stop myself.” You pause. “You can’t keep doing this to me. I'm trying to move on, to heal, and every time you call, it makes it that much harder."
There's a long pause, and you can almost hear Quinn struggling to find the right words.
“I'm sorry, (Y/N). I don't want to keep dragging you back. I just... I miss you. I miss us.“
Tears well up in your eyes as you hear the vulnerability in his voice. Despite the anger and frustration, you still love him more than anything.
“Please, Quinn, just stop. I can’t hear this right now.”
“I know, (Y/N). I know I'm hurting you, and I hate myself for it. But I can't act like I'm not dying without you."
He’s not being fair, and you want to punch him. You have to protect yourself and not allow him to pull you back. Not until you both figure out what went so wrong in the first place.
“I love you, Quinn," you admit, "But we are not doing this. Not now.“
There's a long pause on the line. “I know, (Y/N). I just... I can't let you go. You’re all I can think about.”
You wipe away a stray tear.
“Then find something else. I’m not ready to do this. I need time. You need to leave me the fuck alone, and when I'm ready, I’ll give you a call.
You hear him start to speak and begin to plead his case again, but you’re done. He’s hurt you enough.
You hang up the phone.
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