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#i just kept adding onto it for weeks and weeks. and all for what
turtletoria · 1 year
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a mask of my own face
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llamahearted · 8 months
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like it's no big deal at all
songs on repeat
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luv4kozume · 6 days
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⏳ 𝐓𝐄𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 — MATT STURNIOLO
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PersonalTrainer!Matt x Fem!Reader
Contains: Swearing, slow burn, hella praise, teasing/flirting, pet names (baby, good girl), dry humping, fingering, doggy, stomach bulge, public(ish) sex, unprotected sex, cum-shot (lol idk what to call this). Semi-proof read!
Synopsis: A story in which you and your personal trainer, Matt have some underlying attraction and sexual tension during your session. What happens when neither of you can fight back the temptation anymore?
Word Count: 5,103
a/n: HEY GUYS!!! I know I disappeared from here for a week or so but I’m back now!! I hope this smutty Matt fic makes up for my absence??
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*:・゚✧ 💌 *:・゚✧
The sun rays crept through your window that sat right above your kitchen sink, your headphones resting at your neck as you opened your fridge door. You hummed, grabbing onto various different fruits.
You spun around on your heels, closing the door back with your hip before placing them on the kitchen counter. You glanced over at the clock to make sure that you were still making good time as you tossed the already diced pineapples and mangoes into the blender. You added a couple more things before blending it all together. Once satisfied by the thickness of the smoothie and the slight pink tint to it, you slowly poured it into your cup.
Recently, you had really gotten into fitness. It had been on your bucket list for quite some time and you're finally taking it into action. You had even taken it as far as hiring a personal trainer to help keep you motivated. Although, you sometimes wondered if he was the sole purpose as to why you kept going to the gym in the first place.
Over time, you had developed this little crush on him. Your stomach flipped every time the two of you were alone together during sessions. He had this thing where he loved praising you, obviously you assumed the man was just doing his job but sometimes it felt so much more than that.
However, you never planned to act on this assumption. The last thing you wanted was for there to be some awkward tension between the two of you because you were confusing his kindness for flirting. So you decided to keep those thoughts of attraction to yourself. Besides, it was just an innocent crush.
*ೃ༄
The glass door squeaked a bit as you pushed it open, the gym was empty and a musk scent filled the room. There were full length mirrors scattered just about everywhere, along with many machines used for exercise.
Some of them intimidated you, since you were only just a beginner. But Matt never made you feel pressured in your progress and always reassured you to go at your own pace.
He had a kind and gentle demeanor about him that always made you feel safe whenever he was around. You couldn’t help but wonder if he remained that way in the bedroom as well, your heart raced at just the thought of his praise in that context.
He hadn’t noticed you right away when you made it through the doors until it slammed shut behind you.
He sat across the room, hunched over on a bench. His thighs spreading apart as his arms draped over his lap and his phone rested in his hand. A silver chain shining just past his collarbone, which was fully visible due to his black tank that complimented the grey sweatpants he had on— that hung dangerously low at his hips.
“Hey.” He finally spoke, raising his head up with a smile as you walked closer towards him. “You ready for today?”
You sat on the bench next to him as he switched off his phone and placed it in the pocket of his sweats.
“Yes.” You say nearly out of breath, you could hear your pulse in your ears as he locked his eyes with yours. He made you terribly nervous and you hadn’t had the slightest idea why, especially since nothing has even happened yet.
You could’ve swore that you saw his eyes flicker down to your thighs before going back up to your face. Surely it was an accident, but another part of you hoped otherwise.
“Have you been practicing your form?” He smirked.
You cringed slightly at his question, knowing exactly what he was referring to. The main reason why you wanted to started working out was to build more muscle in your legs and core, but what you didn’t realize was just how intense those exercises can be.
One of those not even being a full exercise at all and just a “simple” warm up instead. The thought of even doing a plank right now made your stomach churn with dread.
“Yeah, of course.” You lie right through your teeth, hoping he doesn’t pick up on it.
“You sure?” Matt teased, getting up from the bench and walking towards the center of the gym. “Wanna come prove that to me?”
“Sure.” You reply in nearly a whisper as Matt adjusted one of the memory foam mats on the floor. This made it easier for your joins to withstand the stretches.
You knelt down, getting on your palms and knees. You could feel his gaze burning into the back of your silhouette, like he was trying to undress you with his eyes. You tried your best to brush off that giddy feeling that rushed through you, getting flustered at just the mere thought of Matt thinking of you in that way.
You let out a shaky exhale as you lowered your head, dropping your chin down into your chest as you supported your weight with your arms and toes. Matt's clothes rustled in your ears as he knelt down to get in front you, playfully tsking at the way your body trembled in this position.
“Firstly,” He begins at a soft whisper. His slender fingers trailing down to raise your face up by your chin, forcing your eyes to lock with his. “You gotta keep your head up.”
“Whoops.” You shyly reply, quickly averting away from his stare. He hummed at your obedience. You shivered under the warmth of his hands as they slithered down your spine past your black sports bra. Moving himself to kneel by your side.
Luckily for you, he couldn't see your rosy cheeks in this warmup— and they certainly were not heated up because of the plank. A nearly inaudible whimper like noise accidentally slipped out of you as one of his hands rested at the small of your back. The other pressing against your abdomen, gently readjusting your form.
“You gotta keep your core up like this to strength it.” He instructs, keeping that tender hold on your bottom half.
Your heart felt like it was pumping a mile a minute, feeling his fingertips resting right at the waistband of your leggings. His large hands against your body made you feel things that you just should not for your personal trainer. You wanted so desperately for his hands to travel lower, yanking away at your clothes and to finally touch you in the most intimate of places.
Finally, you cleared your throat before adjusting yourself in his strong hold before uttering a meek, “Like this?”
His hands moved just the slightest at the new position you were in. Grinning in approval, so proud of how you were doing.
“Yeah, just like that. Hold it right there.” He coaxed, his thumbs now tracing gentle circles against your clothes, earning yet another one of the cute noises from you that you prayed he didn't hear.
While you were down below trying your best to keep any other sounds from slipping out he was taking full advantage of the view. His wandering gaze getting an eyeful of the way your leggings wrapped around the plump shape of your ass and thighs. He nearly groaned at the sight, but  suppressed the urge as he didn't want to make you feel uncomfortable. But you were just so tempting.
Matt chose the worst day possible to wear grey sweatpants. He looked away for a bit, taking in a deep breath to compose himself. Filling his mind with gross images to keep lewd thoughts of you out— because he knew the longer he'd stare he'd definitely wouldn't be able to hide his erection around you.
Once he felt confident enough to keep his burning desires in the back of his mind, his eyes dropped back down to your figure.
However, that's when he made a pleasant discovery. A sly grin pulling at his lips when he noticed the slightest imprint your panties made against your leggings— he was convinced you were trying to kill him.
Only to take a closer look and realize that you weren’t wearing just any regular pair, but a skimpy thong instead. The sudden realization of knowing that you were wearing a thong right now had a cluster of inappropriate thoughts running through his head, clouding his better judgment.
You weren't a woman that he should flirt with. And you were definitely not a woman he should have sex with. You were one of his regular clients and it was going to be a real struggle for him to fight back this temptation to keep everything strictly professional between you two.
“You think you can keep it up a little longer?” Matt asked, his sweet words rolling off his tongue like silk.
“Yeah.” Is all you could muster up, trying not to break your concentration with his suggestive words, only for it be obliterated by what he decided to say next.
“Good girl, you're doing so well.” He coaxed, holding onto you for a little bit before finally retracting his hands, the warmth of them suddenly disappearing.
He continued feeding you with heartwarming praises that made you wonder if he knew the impact his words had over you.
It felt like ages had passed before he finally approved of your time, letting you rest up on your knees. Your chest heaved as you caught your breath, making your breasts protrude out slightly, threatening to spill out of your bra with each deep inhale you took.
You could see him struggling to keep his eyes on yours as he spoke to you, causing a flushed smile to spread on your face.
“What did you want to focus on today?” He began to ask, desperate to cut through the growing sexual tension in the room. “Arms or legs?”
“Uhh.. legs mostly.” You reply, your voice still a bit shaky as your shifted your weight on your heels. You shot him another smile, feeling brave enough to add a hint of flirtation in your tone, “But I wanna switch it up and do arms first today.”
“Yeah, we can totally do that.” He replies, standing up. He holds out his hand for you to grab onto, your fingers slid into his palm as he pulled you up from the floor. He guided you over to one of the machinery, “We can start off with pull-ups.”
*ೃ༄
The soles of your sneakers sank down into the plush mat on the ground as you take in another deep breath, trying your best to regain focus on the task at hand.
The pull-ups themselves wasn’t the issue. The only dilemma you could think of was that Matt’s hands would have to be on your waist. But even so, was that truly an issue?
“Ready?” Matt asked, his hands hovering just over your hipbones, waiting for your approval to touch.
“Yes.” You reply, peering over your shoulder to face him. Only to quickly avert your eyes when you accidentally looked at him for a bit too long.
Another convincing smile spread on his face, loving how flustered you’d get when the two of you made eye contact. He thought it was just the cutest thing and even more so knowing that you’d say otherwise.
Your breath hitched in your throat as his warm palms pressed onto your waist, his fingers gently wrapping around your figure as he lifted you up with ease.
“We can just do five for today, okay?” He huffed out, remaining exceptionally calm considering that your ass was pressing right against his chest.
“Okay.” You muttered in embarrassment. Your clammy hands wrapped around the steel pole. The muscles in your biceps flexing at the slightest as Matt assisted you with each pull-up.
Your cheeks flushed with that same rosy hue as before when he continued praising you. Each sugar-coated word sent butterflies right to your stomach and down to your core, making you subconsciously squirm in his hands. Which only encouraged him to say even more sweet things to you.
“Just one more, okay? Doing so good.” Matt groaned against you, lifting you up one last time before gently bringing back down on your feet.
You spun around on your heels, a smile on your face as small beads of sweat started to form at your forehead.
“I told you I was getting better.” You reply with a cocky tone, your hands rested at your hips.
“Yeah, well that’s because you’ve got the best trainer.” He joked, crossing his arms just below his chest.
“I already knew that.” You laugh.
“Mhm, I bet you did.” He replied, licking his lips before bringing them up into a smirk. “Wanna test those legs out too?”
“What? More squats?” You complain, those were the bulk of your sessions and you quickly grew tired of them. There had to be some other way to build muscle in your legs.
“I mean that is the best way for you, but if you want to try something new, I’m down.” He shrugged, looking around at the machinery.
His eyes locked on one of the leg press machines against the wall before bringing his gaze back to you. A perplexed expression written all over your poor face which only made him chuckle.
“Wanna give it a go?” He asked, pointing over at it.
“I can try.” You reply, walking over towards the leg press, Matt following close behind you.
Your fingertips grazed over the material of the equipment, your heart pounding in your chest— terrified of making a fool of yourself in front of Matt.
“Maybe you should get on first.” You say turning around to face him, giving him the most convincing smile.
“Why is that?” He asked, tilting his head to the side, his hands now buried in his pockets.
“So I can see how it’s properly done.” You reply, taking a step closer towards him. “You are the best trainer after all.”
The last words rolled right off your tongue with ease, now suddenly flipping the whole praising charade on him— which turned him on far more than he’d like to admit.
A slight red tint flushed over his cheeks, dropping his head down to hide that bashful smile of his.
“Leg presses aren’t really my thing.” He replied shortly after, bringing his flustered face back up, his eyes piercing right through yours. A stare so obviously filled with desire, it nearly made your knees go weak.
“Then what is your thing?” You ask.
“You’re gonna laugh.” Matt replied, trying to contain his own laughter.
“I swear I won’t.” You reply, an undeniable smile spreading on your face. “Just tell me.”
“Promise?” He asked.
“Promise.” You reply.
“Come here.” He replied, nodding his head over as he guided towards the dumbbells. Another black, memory foam mat spread across the cool gym floor, the plush material squishing beneath your sneakers.
His back faced you as he pointed down at the rack of assorted dumbbells, the order going from lightest to heaviest. He mumbled a few syllables under his breath that you couldn’t quite make out.
“What was that?” You teased, coming up closer to him to stand next to his side.
“Dumbbell hip thrusts are more my thing.” He replied, watching his words quickly contort your face into a flustered mess.
Before you could give him a proper response, his feet were already dragging against the floor. Your stomach flipped as he grabbed onto the heaviest weight— lifting it up from the rack as if it were a feather.
You anxiously fiddled around with your fingers, your clammy hand trembling within the other as you watched Matt place the weight on his lap. His shaggy strands of hair falling right over his forehead, peering up at you every now and then through his dark lashes. A smug grin plastered across his face— he knew exactly what he was doing.
His large palms wrapped around the rough, black material of the dumbbell. His entire hand covering up the ‘80’ that was imprinted on each side.
A few undeniable groans slipped out from him as he began the exercise, his teeth grinding against one another and his cheeks slowly filled up with a light red tint. His biceps flexed at the slightest but the main attraction was his groin— the way he gradually thrusted his pelvis up towards the ceiling had your heart fluttering in your chest.
Suddenly the air felt too thick to properly draw in, your lungs felt like they were ready to collapse at any moment.
All you could do was focus on the way Matt’s hips moved up and down in such a taunting manner.
A suggestive and lewd manner.
He moved in a way that had you subconsciously wishing that you were the one sitting on his lap instead— that he was thrusting up into you.
The tension in the room only continued to build up around you, consuming your thoughts and causing your body to react in a way that you know you shouldn’t. But you the temptation only grew stronger by the second.
You opened your mouth to speak, but thankfully you were cut off my his words.
“Is that enough proof for ya?” Matt asked, the same smirk still on his face as he finally gave his lower half a rest.
You watched as his fingers wrapped around the silver bar of the dumbbell, swinging it off his lap and gently placed it down by his side. The weights sinking down into the soft mat.
Tiny beads of sweat formed at his hairline as he looked up at you. His fingers combing through his hair as he waited for your answer.
“No.” You hum in a melodic tone, earning a chuckle from him.
“Well, I don’t know what else to do.” He playfully shrugged, “I don’t have anything else to lift.”
Feeling brave, you decided to finally put yourself out there. After today, it would be more painful if you hadn’t tried to make a move in a situation like this. Besides, what was the worst that he could say?
“I bet you can’t lift me.” You teased.
“Are you joking?” His smile growing from ear to ear, “I most definitely can.”
“I don’t know, Matt…” You reply. “You seemed to be struggling with that dumbbell just now.”
“I know you’re bullshitting, now.” He huffed out.
You knew what you were doing with your choice of words, knowing that he wasn’t the type of man to back down from a challenge.
Obviously, you and Matt both knew he had this in the bag. The real challenge, however, was keeping that strict wall of professionalism still in tact.
“Get your ass over here.” His words tumbling out as he pat his hand on his lap, beckoning you over to come sit. To which you gladly comply.
Your shoes squished into the memory foam down below, swinging one of your legs over him. Your dainty fingers pressed down into his shoulders for support as you slowly lowered yourself to straddle him.
A breathy laugh fell out from him once you finally took your seat, your core resting dangerously close towards his member.
So much for professionalism.
“Sorry.” You say, shooting him an awkward smile.
Your hips rocked against him, trying to get in a comfortable seating. It took every fiber in Matt’s being to not give into the primal-like urges that had been festering up inside him the moment you walked through those doors.
You, on the other hand, were painfully oblivious of the fact. Each slow and sensual movement of your hips had him mesmerized. He knew he should hold his tongue and knew even better to not touch you in this setting.
He opened his mouth to speak, giving a weak attempt to tell you that this probably wasn’t the brightest idea and maybe you should get off. But he was suddenly cut off to release a low and suggestive grunt.
You nearly whimpered when you felt his strong hands shooting up to grip your hips, locking you down in place to prevent you from brushing up against his dick again.
You looked up at him with pleading doe-like eyes. A stare so innocent yet so seductive, you looked so fuckable on his lap like this— and he just simply could not contain the desire he had for you any longer.
His gaze flickered down to your sleek figure, tracing hypnotic circles into your hips with his thumbs. You swallowed thickly when his eyes pierced back up into your own, anxiously anticipating what he was going to say or do next.
“Can I…” Matt mumbled out before clearing his throat. “Can I kiss you?”
You feverishly nodded in response, afraid of how needy you’d sound if you had used your voice instead. He hesitated at first, analyzing every minor change in your expression. He wanted to be completely sure that you wanted, no needed, this as much as he did.
Your desirous eyes were a dead give away, confirming that the attraction was mutual. Finally, he pressed his lips on yours— being sure to remain at a soft and slow pace to test the waters. It felt like a weight had been lifted from your shoulders now that the sexual tension had finally been severed.
His lips curled up into a pleaser smile as he pulled your body in closer to his own. Your arms draped around his neck, deepening the kiss as you tilted your head to the side. His nostrils flared against you as he took in a deep inhale, not wanting to pull away from your lips.
Suddenly the kiss morphed into something much more heated and passionate. His lips weren’t on you in a “one-night-stand” kind of way. No, he kissed you like he had nothing else to lose; like you were the only thing that mattered. All that underlying attraction he kept tucked away from you had finally been set free and he made sure to show that with his actions. He had been yearning for you.
Both of his hands slithered past your hips, grabbing a handful of your ass. Shamelessly pulling you back and forth so that you could feel how hard he was for you.
You pulled away from the kiss in attempt to catch your breath, only to be cut off by a sharp gasp when Matt began peppering wet kisses along your neck and collarbone. Your teeth tugged at your bottom lip, a trail of soft whimpers spewing out from you as he continued. All while his fingertips traveled up around your waist to toy with the waistband of your leggings.
“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this.” Matt slurred out, finally pulling away from your throat. “Can I take these off?”
“Yes.” You whispered.
His fingers looped inside your bottoms, quickly pulling away at the fabric and discarding it onto the floor next to both of you. He groans at the sight of the black strings of your thong pinching into the plush curves of your hips.
Two strong arms wrapped around your waist, swiftly flipping the two of you over so that Matt was on top of you now. Your thighs naturally parted, allowing for his hips to rest in between them.
He taunts you with more kisses, this time being more like petty pecks against your lips. You whined against him, your fingers tugging at the hem of his tank.
Luckily he caught the hint, laughing a bit to himself before raising up. He threw his shirt down to join your leggings, his hair now a bit disheveled and his silver chain dangling around his throat as he lowered himself back down.
The warmth of his hands sent butterflies in your stomach, slowly inching them up your ribcage to finally take off your bra. He slid the small piece of clothing over your head and tossed it away, giving you more kisses against your throat.
You shuddered, feeling his breath fanning against your hot skin. His large hands scooping up both of your tits, fondling them ever so softly. You whimpered, wrapping your shaky fingers around his wrists.
“Doing okay?” Matt asked sweetly, locking his eyes with yours.
“Mhm.” You hum, your brows knitted together and cheeks all flushed out.
“Good.” He smirked, his eyes flickering down. Slowly running his hands along your figure. “You’re so pretty, baby. Gonna let me me see more? Let me make you feel good?”
“Yes..” You whined with a nod, the tip of his nose grazing against yours. Your lips parted slightly when you felt the pads of his fingers on your clit, giving you a teasing stroke through your panties.
“Yeah? Bet you’ll be so good for me, hm?” He hummed, that conniving smirk never leaving his face. You squirmed under his touch, all you could do was give him another nod in agreement.
Your eyes darted down, watching him stretch the material of your thong. Slowly pulling the fabric over to the side.
“Hold this for me?” He coaxed, keeping a hold on the clothing before your fingers took his place.
Your lips pouted out sheepishly, your eyes never leaving the movements he made with his hands. One of them holding on the back your knee, slowly parting your legs further apart.
You let out a shaky breath, your fingers trembling as they struggled to maintain a strong grip on your panties.
“You’ve been wanting this too, huh?” He cooed, his fingers moving away from your clit and traveling down to your entrance. Being sure to lather them up with your arousal before slipping them inside.
“Fuck.” You gasped, feeling both of them push inside you. You tried to shy away from his eyes but he only forced your focus back on him, smashing his lips back into yours.
He picked up the speed of his fingers, expertly curling them up to find that sweet spot of yours. Your legs trembled in his hold and around his hips, now struggling to kiss him back.
The squelching of your arousal was an alluring symphony to his ears. Being sure to savor every moment he could with your sweet, velvety walls hugging around him so nice.
A devious chuckle slipped out from him when he realized his fingers were the cause of you struggling to kiss him back. You whined out in frustration when you felt him slowly dragging them out.
“C’mon, don’t pout.” He tsked, grabbing ahold of your hips, slowly gesturing you to flip over. “Turn around for me, baby.”
You huff out a shaky sigh as you slowly turned around. Your knees now sinking down into the memory foam below and your elbows resting on one of the dark, firm gym blocks Matt had scattered around the place.
You nestled your flustered face in between your arms, a rush of excitement washed over you as you heard Matt’s clothes rustle behind you. He tugged at the drawstring around his waist, finally freeing his dick from his stuffy clothes.
Goosebumps coated your skin once you felt the soft touch of Matt’s hand against you. Pulling at the string of your panties, making sure they were far back enough for him to fit. You shuddered underneath him, shyly anticipating his next move.
His free hand wrapped around the base of his cock, fighting the urge to pump himself dry.
“So pretty and wet for me, baby..” He spoke in nearly a whisper, dragging his tip along your slick folds. A pinkish tint decorating his cheeks as he continued, “Gonna let me fill you up, yeah?”
Your teeth tugged back on your bottom lip, furrowing your brows together as he gently pushed himself inside you. Your eyes fluttered closed as he bottomed out.
“Matt.. oh fuck..” You whined, already feeling his tip brushing up against that same spot as before.
Both of his hands were now hugging around your waist, watching himself pull out only to slam right back into you. You sweet cries filling up his ears and the way your ass bounced with each thrust only encouraged him to give you more. Curious to find out how many other sounds he could pull out of you.
He continued rocking his pelvis into you, being sure to keep that sweet, slow pace as before. But you made it incredibly difficult for him to do so, he wondered if you had been doing it on purpose.
The way your pussy sucked him back in each time he’d pull out made him want to pin you to the floor and show who truly had the upper hand.
“Shit.” He cursed, the grip around your hips tightening.
His necklace dangled over your back as he hovered over you. Pressing sloppy kisses down your spine, causing you to shiver.
“You feel so fucking good.” He groaned against you, slowly pumping himself further inside. He continued pouring more sweet nothings in your ear, leaving you putty in his hands.
His hands slid from your waist up to your chest, grabbing ahold of your bouncing tits. His lips now aligned with your ear, his breath fanning against you as he whispered.
“That’s my sweet girl, taking me so well.” He began, one of his hands snaking it’s way down to your stomach. You cried out once he pressed his hand against you, loving the way he could feel his dick protruding through you.
“You feel that, baby?” He huffed out, you could hear the smile in his voice. “Feel how deep I am?”
“Matty.. I- I’m gonna..” You moaned, dropping your head towards your chest. Your body moving in uncontrollable waves in his hands as you quickly approached your orgasm.
“Come on, cum for me.” Matt groaned, feeling his own high creeping up on him. “I know you can. Want it all over my dick, baby, come on.”
His words alone were enough to send you over the edge. You let out a broken whimper as you released over him, his thrusts letting up slightly as he continued fucking you through your orgasm.
You whined from the newfound sensitivity, not knowing how much more you could take. Luckily, he wasn’t too far behind you.
He pulled out of you with a groan, his hand going straight to his dick. Sliding his hand along his throbbing length until thick, warm stripes of white coated your back.
A spew of curses slipped out from before he hovered back down to press a few kisses into your flushed cheeks. You whined, turning your face towards him to press your lips against his.
“I’ll grab a towel, okay?” He whispered. “You did so good, like always.”
📃 — taglist!
@bluesturniolo333 , @hoesformatt , @mattgirly , @stellarsturns , @mattsturniolosgf333 , @mrssturnioloo , @sturniozo , @littlebookworm803 , @only4mattyb , @breeloveschris , @liz-stxrn , @strawberrysturniolo , @mangoposts , @enyaslover , @1horrormoviewhore1 , @whatever1021 , @mattslolita , @whicked-hazlatwhore , @sturniolopowers , @hercigaretteblush , @lovingmattysposts , @stardustmf444 , @lovesturns , @gigisworldsstuff , @crispylouis28 , @that-general-simp , @lustfulslxt , @ifilwtmfc , @chrislapdog , @sstvrnioloo , @angelic-sturniolos111 , @sturniolosreads , @gamermattsgf , @luvmxtt , @kayannettesposts , @sophssturn , @isabellehoran , @sturnfix , @luvmila444 , @luhsexcbihh , @kvtie444 , @rootbeerworshiper
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yandere-writer-momo · 23 days
Text
Part 2 🖤I made the demon king a black man. I don’t see many Yandere POC OCs 🖤
Yandere Head Canons:
Defying Destiny
Yandere Demon King x Isekai Saintess Reader x Yandere Hero (mentioned)
TW: imprisonment, kidnapping, stalking, uncomfortable themes, sexual themes, Somniaphilia, Dacryphilia, etc.
Part 1
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You woke up wrapped in the silk sheets of snow unfamiliar bed. Your eyes wild and your heart raced in your chest like a startled animal. Where were you and where was Reinhardt?! Why were there candles everywhere in this dark bedroom? Was Reinhardt planning to… oh god you were terrified.
You felt a sob rack through you when reality set in. Had Reinhardt stolen you away to live out some sort of sick fantasy instead of going through with his quest to slay the demon king? No… Reinhardt wouldn’t bring you to such a luxurious home. But who on earth brought you here?
“I see you’re awake, my delicate flower.” Your head snapped to the doorway to see the silhouette of a large man. You felt your blood run cold and a shiver run down your spine by his presence. That raspy baritone voice belonged to a stranger.
You flinched when the man suddenly slapped his clawed hands on the end of the king sized bed. Your eyes met gold for the first time and you seeped your heart stopped in your chest from pure terror. There was no mistaking who your captor was… he was the demon king.
“What’s the matter, saintess?” He chuckled as he reached a taloned finger out to hook around a strand of your hair. “Cat got your tongue?”
You felt tears stream down your cheeks when he flashed his long fangs at you. He was bewitchingly beautiful with his burnt umber skin and golden eyes. There was no doubt he was a demon and that fact terrified you. What did he want from you? Was he… was he going to kill you?
The demon king sighed at your shivering form before he moved himself to sit beside you. His hand moved to hold yours. “It’s alright, darling. I’m not going to hurt you.”
You sniffled when he began to wipe away your tears. “W… what?”
“I’d never hurt my saintess.” The demon king gave you a toothy smile. “My beautiful, merciful saintess… my salvation.”
You gasped when he brought your right hand up to his lips to press a tender kiss to the back of it. “It’s so wonderful to finally have you here with me… you’ll be safe here.”
“I’m just a bit confused about all of this…” You felt so small under his intense gaze, like he was about to pounce on you at any second. “Who are you and why have you taken me?”
The demon lord chuckled as he rose up from the bed to stand at his full, intimidating height. His curved black horns nearly added another foot to his height which made he give you a smirk. “Why I am the Demon King but you can call me Amon.”
The demon king- no, Amon, bowed his head to you. “And I took you to save you.”
You were surprised to see a tray of freshly made food in front of you when Amon snapped his fingers. Your stomach growled at the delicious sight, but you were hesitant to accept… Amon quickly caught onto your hesitance and took a bite of the food for you. “Don’t worry, it’s real and completely edible. Only the best for my saintess.”
You shyly took a bite and smiled at the taste. It was lovely…
Amon smiled warmly at you, his golden eyes studied your satisfied smile in pure joy. He was so happy to please you!
Amon ran his talons through his long black hair with a smile. “I’ll take care of you from now on. You’re safe here.”
As the weeks melted into months, Amon kept his word. None of his demon nor monster henchmen were mean towards you, unlike the hero’s party. Sure Amon was never far from you, but his company was much preferred over Reinhardt’s. Amon would bring you meals and made sure you had fresh clothes. He pampered you like a beloved pet.
Though it was never officially stated, you were Amon’s lover. And thus, you treated as such by his subjects. They’d wait for you on hand and foot. You received various expensive clothing and jewelry, they were eager to make you smile. It was such a stark contrast compared to your treatment prior…
You often gazed out your window at the volcanic city below. It was fascinating just how different monsters and demons lived from humans… so why did the humans want to destroy them so much?
You jumped when Amon entered the room to wrap his muscular arms around your waist, his nose pressed onto your shoulder. A few of his box braids tickled your skin. “I missed you so much… I just wish the humans would leave us alone. I grow tired of the hero and his party. They’re so much weaker without your barriers and healing. To think they never treated you well. What a bunch of losers.”
You turned to gaze at Amon in interest. “What is it that they’re after? Why do the humans hate your people so much?”
Amon gave you the softest of smiles, a bit of his fangs peaked out from under his lip. “Our magic stones. Monsters and demons produce enough magic stones to fuel humanity for eons… they’re worth a lot of money to humans.”
Amon pressed a tender kiss to your shoulder, his gold eyes stared expectantly up at you. “You’re the only human to ever question their greed and motives. You don’t wish to be bound to a destiny thrust upon you by the world.”
Amon bent down on one knee and pressed his lips over your palms and fingers. “Join me. Together we can defy our destiny. You don’t have to be a Saintess forced to marry the hero and I won’t have to be a page in the history books.”
You felt a blush on your cheeks when he tilted his handsome face at you. “Let’s watch the world burn together.”
And now you had a choice to make. To fulfill the destiny predetermined for you or to defy your destiny.
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chrisevansonly · 1 month
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Some Extra Goodies
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charles leclerc x female reader
summary: you are the master at sneaking things into the grocery kart, only this time…someone is watching
warnings: none very fluffy and domestic charles
a/n: thank you all for the cute little ideas i’m gonna work through them, i hope you enjoy these little blurbs!!
Grocery shopping was something you and Charles loved to do together, ever since you moved in together, and even when you both still lived in your respective homes; it was a tradition for you two almost.
Another thing you were good at was sneaking extras into the cart, whether it was your favourite candies or a little package of double chocolate chip cookies, luckily enough for you Charles never seemed to notice.
Until today.
“Chérie, what kind of apples do you want this week?”
You hummed for a second, having just sneakily added a package of cookies to the cart, your eyes then moving up to look at your fiancé who narrowed his stare onto you.
“Oh um let’s just get the honey crisp again! Those were really good last time”
Charles didn’t say anything before grabbing a few apples and placing them into your little fabric fruit bag, the bag you’d started to force him to use to avoid all the plastic use.
“Okay, we just need milk and then we are good to go”
Nodding you hooked your arm through Charles’s and walked towards the dairy section, not before subtly grabbing a pack of gummy bears and trying to hide them under the bushel of banana’s that had just been laid down minutes earlier.
It wasn’t until after you’d gotten the milk and some yogurt that Charles stopped by the cash register, a slight smirk on his face.
“So are we forgetting anything?” he asked softly
“Nope, everything is checked off on the list!”
“Really?”
You raised a brow looking at him and shrugged, showing him the crumpled up grocery list
“Yeah, see I checked it all off…is there something we’re forgetting?”
“Well I just noticed something funny…”
Charles kept his eyes on you, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he pulled out the cookies, gummy bears and the little box of truffles you’d slipped into the cart.
“It’s funny because I didn’t see these on the list…”
“What! Oh well how did they get in there! Must have flown off the shelf!”
Charles couldn’t hold his laugh back at your fake shock, it was something he loved about you, how you’d get so animated and pretend as if you didn’t do something: you both knew you most definitely did.
“So I didn’t see you sneakily place these in the cart over our trip here?”
“Charles! I think you’re seeing things, should we go see a doctor?”
Biting back a smile you tried hard not to crack nor laugh, but as Charles pulled you in for a hug and pressed a kiss to your forehead, you sighed, finally breaking.
“Alright…you caught me…i just wanted some sweets…”
“Well you didn’t have to sneak them mon amour..”
You shrugged
“It’s more fun that way! Plus you never notice!”
At the look on thé Monégasque’s face your mouth dropped open
“You’ve known?!”
“Every year since we started dating…”
Now it was your time to laugh, all of this time you’d thought he’d never noticed your additions to the weekly groceries, when in reality he’d known everytime for the past 5 years.
“Let’s just say don’t become a spy…you’re not very good at hiding things”
“Hey!”
Pressing one last kiss to your forehead the two of you made your way to the cash to check out and pack all of your things up to go home. Even if you weren’t a good spy, and Charles did know when you snuck extras in, he’d never say anything, in fact he loved that you did it.
Because half the time, he’d want the same sweets as you, he’d just never admit it….not now at least.
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tasteracha · 2 months
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kinktober - day sixteen
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kink: sex toys with jilix
warnings: smut - MINORS DNI. sex toys, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, afab!reader. mention of hentai (typical jlix things). 3k.
it’s something that felix and jisung bring up all the time. throughout your entire time as roommates slash best friends with benefits they’ve talked about it, but they’ve never followed through with it. 
they want to ruin you. stretch you so far that you’re left with your pussy gaping, fill you up so far that it feels like your breath is taken away. the thought of it sends you into a dizzy spell if you think about it too long, but it’s always just that. a thought. you’re not sure why, since every other kink that’s been brought up has been tried and added to the ranked bulletin board in your room.
handcuffs? yes, enthusiastically. 
petplay? no, much to jisung’s poorly concealed disappointment.
stuffed full of sex toys? TBD.
but no matter how many times any of you had brought it up, whether it be giggling into a glass of wine or holding hands in the dark under your covers, they never made any moves to make it become reality. 
so, you decide to take matters into your own hands.
it’s almost too easy to sneak an excessively large order of sex toys onto jisung’s credit card, the one he had given to you with a wink and a whispered you know what to do with this. you hadn’t known what to do with it, but you pocketed the card anyways, saving it for a rainy day. maybe this is what he had meant when he said that to you - you’ll find out soon, probably. 
by the time it arrived you were almost sick with anticipation, the thought of it not leaving you as you obsessively checked the tracking of your package every possible second. when it finally arrived they weren’t home, and you opened it without abandon, ripped pieces of cardboard littering the floor. they looked…daunting. almost scary. incredibly exciting.
“tomorrow,” felix says, more to the contents of the box than to you. “tomorrow, we’re going to ruin you with these.”
“tomorrow?” both you and jisung whined together, and you exchanged a fist bump over the box as felix huffed at you. 
and yet, with all of the impatient waiting you did in the past week (and jisung in the past day), tomorrow came sooner than you could catch up with. you were naked on the mattress before you could even blink, cunt clenching around nothing as you watched them lay out the materials that you had so meticulously picked out.
it might be a little too soon for an endeavor like this, it would be smarter to try out every toy first and make sure you were comfortable with all of them, but they’ve kept you waiting too long for this for you to think about being smart right now. 
they lined the toys up at the foot of the bed, all washed and sanitized and ready for whatever filthy use they were going to be put through. there’s four of them, varying in size, girth and length, color, and vibrations and thrusting ability, and you’re already a bit overwhelmed just looking at them. 
or rather, a lot overwhelmed. 
they make eyes at each other over you, having some kind of silent conversation in the creepy way that they do. felix nods and moves to sit by your head, moving you around until your upper body was half in his lap. jisung, on the other hand, picks up the first toy and examines it, twisting it around in his hand. 
“relax, baby,” felix’s voice rumbles through you, and you melt into him a bit when he runs his hand through your hair. 
jisung’s eyes are fixated on your pussy now, and you can almost see the wheels turning in his head as he imagines how wrecked you’re going to be once they’re done with you. 
“jisung, come on,” you whine, wriggling a bit in felix’ lap. 
“let me enjoy this,” he bites back, sending you a playful glare. 
“i think i’m the one who’s supposed to be enjoying this,” you pout, relaxing back into place when felix tugs at a strand of your hair. 
“oh trust me, you will,” felix’s voice grumbles from behind you, vibrations from it dousing your body just as jisung finally touches you. it’s not quite where you want, his hand is tracing up and down your thigh, but it’s something. 
he takes his time mapping out your skin, planes of smooth flesh that he’s seen and felt and loved before, but never this slowly. never this reverently. it’s almost frustrating, but felix begins massaging your neck and shoulders and you’re too relaxed to provide any protest beyond a frustrated huff of breath as your eyes flutter closed. 
“no, stay with us,” felix coaxes your eyes open, and you almost giggle at how funny he looks upside-down from where you’re laying. it feels like time is moving in slow-motion as jisung uncaps the lube and drizzles it on the toy, the smallest one you had chosen. it’s thin with a bulbous head, created specifically to hit right at your g-spot, a smooth metal with a lustrous purple finish. it’s beautiful, even more so when he runs the cool metal head up and down your folds, warming it up. when it gets to your hole you nearly swallow it up, the glide almost too easy from the lube and your wetness that’s been building since before you even took off your clothes. 
“eager, are we?” jisung teases, and you just snarl back at him, too impatient to deal with being in a sarcastic argument with him right now. you usually love his playful banter during sex, but that’s when you’re in a mutual push and pull dynamic. right now the only thing you want him to push is the toy into you. “fine, i’ll give you what you want, but remember that you asked for it.”
all at once, he’s thrusting it in and out of you, twisting his hand just right so that it hits your spot every single time. it’s already almost too much, and you push up against felix to try and get away from the sudden onslaught. he just laughs, pinning you in place as jisung keeps going and going and going. 
it only takes a few minutes for your orgasm to approach, expectantly fast with how keyed up you’ve been since you woke up. you’re just starting to come when — in one quick move — jisung removes the toy and replaces it with his fingers, crooking them up right where he knows you like it best, over and over. the change in pace makes everything so much more intense, and you can’t stop your body from arching off of the bed, your head pressed into felix’ thighs. it feels like minutes before you slump back onto the mattress, panting hard and twitching from aftershocks. he removes his fingers, holding them up so you and felix could see how slick they are from being inside of you. he sticks them in his mouth, sucking at them a bit like a lollipop, and lets out an appreciative noise at the taste. you hide your face into felix’ leg, embarrassed at his actions. 
jisung doesn’t let you recover before grabbing the second toy, a bright pink vibrator complete with a thrusting head. he forgoes the lube this time, choosing to scoop up your wetness onto his fingertips and spread it across the toy instead. you whine when his fingers brush your clit, overly sensitive even though it hadn’t been touched yet. he settles the tip of it against your hole, rubbing at it in tiny circles.
“what a greedy fucking pussy,” jisung says, almost clinical in the way he looks at felix with an arched brow. like he’s not talking about a person. “just came and she’s already leaking for more.”
felix just hums, dark eyes fixed on the way your bottom lip is stuck between your teeth as jisung slides the second toy into you. it settles in perfectly, leaving you so comfortably full that you think you could fall asleep like this, especially after coming as hard as you just had. 
“what did i tell you?” felix says, accentuating his words with another sharp tug to your hair. “stay with us, baby.” 
“i’m - ah,” your breath leaves you as jisung flicks the vibrator on. even at it’s lowest setting, it sends pulses of pleasure swimming through you, and you feel hot all over. the heat intensifies when he pushes the toy just a little further into you and presses the button for the thrusting to start. it feels strange at first, the rubber head so different to jisung or felix’s cocks, but then he angles it upwards just so and there it is. 
every time you clench down onto it you feel your toes and fingertips tingle with pleasure, little pricks of static taking over your limbs. jisung holds the base close to your entrance, keeping in place as it thrusts into you in a perfectly delicious rhythm. 
“this one might be my favorite,” jisung says, and he sounds like he’s kneeling down to worship something rather than kneeling to absolutely wreck you. you try and reply, but your words get swallowed by a series of sounds that escape your throat. “felix, find a way to shut her up, will you?” 
it’s almost comical the way jisung turns into a control freak when it came to sex; you weren’t complaining though, even when felix hooks his thumb into your mouth and presses down on your tongue. jisung turns the vibrations up and you come for the second time, your eyes rolling so far back that you’re almost scared they’ll get stuck there. he keeps the toy there, letting you ride out your orgasm, and he only turns it off when you start to twitch with oversensitivity. 
“is it my turn now?” felix takes his thumb out of your mouth and strokes his hand down your face, leaving a trail of your spit down your cheek. “i want a turn, you’re hogging her.”
“whiny baby,” jisung tuts, but he stands up from where he had been kneeling in front of you. he drops a kiss to your inner thigh before switching spots with felix, settling in behind you. 
while felix had let your hands wander, clenching in and out of fists as you got more and more into it, jisung had no such notion to give you freedom. he immediately traps your wrists into one of his hands once he was sure your head was comfortable in his lap, and his other hand comes to rest at your collarbone. it’s possessive, the way his fingers curl up just a bit like he’s waiting for a reason to run his nails down your skin. 
the third toy that felix picks up is a normal dildo, clear glass in a respectable size and length, and you’re almost glad for a little normalcy right now. 
“should i eat you out first? make you come on my tongue before using this?” he asks, mouth so close to your clit that you could feel his breath hitting it. it made you shiver. 
“if you do that i might not last,” you groan, trying to clamp your thighs shut but you were stopped by felix’s hands. “you’ll have to scrape my body off of the bed.”
“i’ll have to do that anyways when i’m through with you,” he teases, drawing back a bit. “but you’re right. i want to see your face when i ruin you, and it’s hard to do that from down there.”
the slide of the dildo entering you was almost undetectable after jisung had dealt with you, the only thing you could feel was the coolness of the glass and the fullness in your lower belly. 
you sigh, letting your head fall back into jisung. maybe felix would go easy on you for the first one? you let your body relax so felix could push it all the way in. 
you regretted that almost immediately though - felix, with all of his dancer’s grace and control, knows exactly what to do with his hands. knows how to twist his wrist just right, how to speed up and slow back down in perfect timing, and it doesn’t matter that it’s just a normal dildo because he isn’t a normal fucking person. 
he alternated between an insanely fast and agonizingly slow rhythm, never letting you get used to one before switching to the other. every time you got close, he’d angle it just away from your spot, leaving you teetering on the edge of an orgasm over and over. 
if jisung wasn’t holding you down you’d be thrashing against the sheets right now. 
when felix finally let’s you come it’s with his mouth sucking at your clit and your body taught as a rope. it feels like hours before you come down, wave after wave of boiling pleasure burning through your veins, taking over your whole body. 
“okay?” jisung asks as felix pulls the toy out of you, shushing you when you whine at the feeling. 
“guh,” you let out, the most intelligent response you can offer him right now. he lets go of your wrists to intertwine his hands in yours, keeping you close but knowing that you needed the grounding. 
the last toy was really for them. you know that they’re little freaks inside, and you couldn’t stop yourself from selecting it - a bright green and red silicone toy, shaped like a tentacle. it’s wide at the base, about the size of your fist, and that brings up another idea that you store in your head for later. the tip is tapered, and little faux suction cups line the entire surface of the toy. it isn’t too long, but god it’s thick. 
felix picks up the bottle of lube and coats the thing generously, and you’re grateful for it. for how big it is, you weren’t sure if your body was capable of slicking it up without some help. 
“can’t,” you stutter out when he places the tip at your entrance, teasing it inside of you. you wanted to move away but you couldn’t, jisung made sure of that. 
“you can,” jisung coos at you, the first time he’s spoken since switching places with felix. “you know what to say it you really can’t. but i think you can, baby girl.”
he’s right. through all of this, your safeword hadn’t even breached through to your consciousness. you still wanted this, as insane as it was. 
“fuck, you’re stretched out,” felix curses, pushing the toy into you. you can feel it all the way in your throat, even though it was only a little over halfway inside of you. god, was he going to try and get the whole thing in?
the answer was yes, he was. he twists his wrist, letting your body get used to the girth of the toy for a moment before pulling it out almost all the way. he slowly slides it back in, and the squelch of the suction cups dragging in and out makes you flush so hard you feel lightheaded. 
jisung is breathing hard behind you, and you revel in how affected he is right now. you chose well, you did good.
you’ve never had something inside of you that felt like this; it wasn’t moving but you could imagine if it was, in the ways that tentacles did in the hentai jisung made you watch - you never understood the appeal until now. you wanted it to completely engulf you. you had almost forgotten that it was attached to felix’s hand until he started pumping it in and out of you, absolutely obscene sounds filling the room from both it and your own mouth. 
when you come for the last time it’s a fragile thing, slow rolls of heat washing over you, less intense but no less pleasurable. you feel floaty even felix removes the toy carefully, dumping it on the floor and pressing a flutter of kisses to your thighs. your head is sailing through the clouds just as your body feels weightless, the only thing keeping you tethered to the bed being their hands on you. 
“let’s get her cleaned up,” jisung says, leaning down to press a kiss to the crown of your head. 
“no, ‘m not done,” you mumble, half into jisung’s arm where your mouth is now squished. there’s a line of drool running from your lips down his skin, but you’re too exhausted to care about something that would normally send you into a fit of embarrassment. 
“oh, she’s out,” felix sounds almost in awe, like he can’t believe the state the two of them had pushed you towards. that he couldn’t believe that, even though you couldn’t move a single limb in your body, you were still asking for more. felix reaches to the nightstand where he had placed a cool water bottle with a straw peeking out, and he holds it up to your mouth so you can suck small sips. the water feels heavenly, soothing your parched throat perfectly. did he put magic in this water? it sure feels like he did. 
you didn’t realize that you were talking out loud until they laugh, the sound of it sending happiness throughout your entire body. you made them happy. 
“hi baby,” felix materializes at your side, cradling your face in his hands so you are looking at him instead of the ceiling. “bath or washcloth?”
“can’t move,” you replied, hoping he’d understand. when he comes back with a washcloth and starts cleaning you up, you know he did. he knows you so well. 
you let out a series of whines when he cleans around your pussy, the burn of overstimulation bordering on painful now. jisung soothes you with a kiss for each one, his hands still intertwined with yours. 
you fall asleep before felix finishes, and you miss the way they both look at you with nothing but adoration in their eyes. 
kinktober masterlist
1K notes · View notes
pinkrelish · 1 year
Text
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𝐭𝐡𝐞 "𝐲𝐞𝐬" 𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐲.
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singledad!mechanic!eddie x fem!reader
✶What was meant to be a quiet evening of DND gets out of hand before it even begins, and when the guys leave a bottle of whiskey behind, all those passes you and Eddie made at each other grow to a new level.✶
NSFW — slow burn, fluff, drunken yearning, drunken flirting, dirty jokes, sexual tension, failed phone sex, light angst, drug/alcohol mention/use, 18+ overall for eventual smut
obi-wan voice: this isn't the first kiss chapter you're looking for (it's in the next one)
chapter: 9/20 [wc: 23.8k]
↳ part 01 / 02 / 03 / 04 / 05 / 06 / 07 / 08 / 09 / 10 / 11 / 12
AO3
Chapter 9: Dungeons & Dragons & Unicorns, oh my!
Occupying the narrow space available in Mr. Moore’s cramped office, Carl exchanged a look with Kevin over the edge of his coffee mug as he tipped it back, and coasted the bitter liquid across his tongue, swallowing with trouble. He winced at the potency. Kevin gave him an apologetic grimace.
“You made this too strong,” Carl whispered.
Kevin took a sip as well, and clicked his tongue on the roof of his mouth, admonishing his mistake of putting too many grounds in the machine. “She just makes it better.”
David hunched forward in his plush leather chair. Around him, filing cabinets were open, sticky notes reminders hung crooked on the drawers, and his desk was stacked with customer’s invoices.
Three days you’d been gone and the world had devolved into chaos.
“Yeah, gotcha,” David said into the phone crooked between his shoulder and ear, jotting down an unrelated note on the corner of an envelope. “You feel better soon, ya hear?” He threw an excessive eye roll onto the end of his sentence when the voice on the other end kept rattling off. “I told ya to stop worryin’ about it. Now, get some rest. Yeah. Bye.”
He hung up, and addressed his audience waiting on bated breath, “Ed’s callin’ in sick again.”
“Third day in a row,” Carl commented.
Kevin gestured at the state of the office with his mug. “Third day for her too.” David muttered an acknowledgement, missing his Office Administrator who had taken up the responsibility of organizing all the documents into their rightful place.
“Three days, huh? And both with the flu?” Kevin restated in a leading tone.
“Both with the flu,” David confirmed.
“Not suspicious at all,” Carl added.
In unison, the three men put their mugs to their lips, sipped the coffee, winced, and made noises of disgust.
But after all that, Kevin beamed at his friends. “Good for them,” he said. “Ed deserves someone like her.”
In unison, they agreed, and sipped, and made a pact to dump out their mugs in the sink.
————
You arrived to work with an unglamorous wad of tissue balled in your fist, and a raw nose. Lingering sniffles ailed you, as did the body lethargy, but you were no longer contagious. It sucked to exist in this head-cold sphere, but it was nice to leave the house after days spent in-and-out of a Nyquil daze.
And yes, you were eager to see Eddie again, despite the twist of dread in your stomach.
It’d been days since you left his place on a good note, but would the remnants of his tears be this weird unstated suspense in between breaths of conversation? Would there be an underlying presence of you know all the intimate details of my life in the otherwise cheerful morning greeting? Would things go back to normal as if nothing happened?
Regardless, the morning greeting would have to wait. There were a million things to do around the auto shop since you’d been absent; first of which was going into Mr. Moore’s office, and fighting the disarray to find his updated schedule detailing his upcoming meetings, lunches, and days he’d be out of town. You grabbed a marker and went to work on the calendar in the garage, transcribing the schedule for the guys to see so they could stop asking you if Mr. Moore was in his office or not (especially when his door was right there and they could check for themselves).
Crossing out the first week of January, you began to write down one of the meetings when the back door was thrown open, and an ominous death knell tolled in a jangle of chains and heavy boots, making a veritable effort to stomp as loudly as possible on their way to you.
The eagerness disappeared. Only tumultuous dread now.
Your delicate smile was replaced by a canvas of annoyance. “Why are you so loud?” you winced. And winced again when you heard your stuffed-up voice.
You didn’t have to look away from the note you were jotting down to see his impish grin. He practically forced you to see it when he folded his arms, and imposed his shoulder on the wall, making the calendar page slip under your marker in a long red streak.
He ducked his head to catch your eye. “What’s wrong, sweetheart? I’m walking as I always do; not a hop, skip, or bounce extra.” Eddie’s tight lips parted in your periphery, showing a gleam of teeth. Raising his voice a tick, he drove the dread deeper, “My girl isn’t flinching at every sound because she has a headache, right?”
Having no sense of self restraint, nor manners, Eddie invaded more of your personal space. His chest swelled with a held breath while his tongue prepared a taunt and his eyes squinched half-closed. “It couldn’t be because you’re sick, right? Not Miss Queen of the City who’s been coughed on by every germ out there, making her tougher than the common cold, hmm? Couldn’t be because of that?”
Capping the marker, you let your side-eye graduate to a full fledged incredulous stare at his much-too-giddy expression. “It’s allergies,” you said, crumpling the tissue into your pocket.
“Allergies, huh? Which ones?”
“The ones I’m allergic to.”
“Interesting, interesting,” he humored you, “very interesting since, y’know, the most common allergies people have around here are to grass and weed pollen, and those suckers are dead and buried under a layer of snow. Won’t be growing for quite some months, so..”
You glared at his need to follow up that observation with his lips pursed into a mocking kiss of arrogance, provoking you to fold while simultaneously flaunting the sharp cut of his cheekbones.
“Fine,” you admitted in a low tone. “I got sick.” Noting the heavy bags under his red-rimmed eyes, you quirked an eyebrow, and asked, “Have you been working overtime without me?”
He brightened. “Oh, no. Adrie got me sick too. This is my first day back.”
“Have I ever told you how so,” you paused for emphasis, and prodded the pen cap into his sternum, “so very irritating you are?” He cupped his hand over your wrist, and cradled your fist to his chest. Drawing you in, in, in. Cold seeping through your sleeve from his red fingers, never kicking his habit of smoking before coming inside, regardless of the weather. “Just the worst,” you admonished, finding it difficult to resist the magnetism of his laughter quaking under your palm, urging yourself to favor the adorable scrunch above his nose, and guide your thoughts away from his unzipped leather jacket.
But the draw was too strong. You swayed closer until your forearm was pressed to the dragon tattoo hidden beneath his coveralls, and your tennis shoe grazed past the tip of his metal-toed boot
He recalled, “That’s weird. I remember you saying I was your favorite.”
“I said you were my favorite date. As far as people go, you’re in my top three. Robin, Adrie, you,” you listed on the fingers trapped against his inhale.
He lifted his chin, regarding you down the slope of his magnificent nose. “You rank Adrie above me?”
“Well, think about it this way; you rank above all the other people I’ve met. And I’ve met a lot of people, you know.”
“That isn’t instilling a lot of confidence, babe.”
Sweetheart. Babe. My girl. His hand on your hand. His cold fingers cupping your palm, searing you despite their lack of heat; so different from how you came to know them, as hesitant pauses on his tools when you greeted him and he frowned as if to ask why you were speaking to him.
Was this it? Was this the new normal?
You hoped so.
Cheeks warmed by the multitude of pet names, you put an edge of dissatisfaction on your question to cover how his affections affected you, “Is that my job? To make you feel good about yourself?” Hotter, hotter. His intensity was burning you.
You wiggled the marker in your grasp until you could tap it at the second unfastened button on his coveralls. “I think you just keep me around so you have someone to call you handsome.”
“No way,” he said. He tilted his head to the side, resting it on the wall. His tangly mess of hair followed the movement, laying against his throat. “But.. Just for clarification, I am handsome, right?”
“Of course you’re handsome.”
“Aw, you flatter me, gorgeous,” he said in mock bashfulness, turning his face away while you stared at him in utter exasperation. “Love to hear it from my favorite.”
Gorgeous. Love. Favorite.
You didn’t question his favorite what. Person, place, or thing? Who knows. Words escaped you when the honey in his eyes twinkled with something tender, and his dopey smile softened at the edges, and his heart pounded a story against your touch, and his grin faded more, and his lips regained their pretty pink plumpness, and his voice reached deeper–to the place where your hand felt the creation of vibrations–and his tongue put a new spin on a sentiment as old as time.
“I missed you,” he said, features going lax as he dropped the overly flirtatious act. He let go of your fist to reach out and pinch your upper arm without an ounce of strength in his sweet teasing.
It took you an extra beat to withdraw your hand from his person.
You scoffed, “Uh-huh. I can tell by how you’re trying to butter me up, and annoy me to death at the same time.”
“Don’t tell me I’ve become the sunshine in our relationship now,” he snorted. And before he gave your stomach time to flutter at the word choice: relationship, he was stabbing his finger at the rumpled calendar.
He looked where he pointed, and dropped it down another Saturday. “I meant to ask you this before you left the other day, but we’re at a good spot in our DND campaign for a new person to join if you wanted to come. Sessions are a bitch to schedule now that we’re all adults and have lives, jobs, and responsibilities, and whatever, and I haven’t, uh, hosted one at my place in a while” –years– “so it’s kinda an extra special event, and would be cool if you wanted to come by.”
You wrung your mouth at the invitation.
“C’mon, I promise it’ll be fun.”
“I know it’s easy to assume I’m a giant loser like you, but even being a theater kid, I’ve never played DND,” you told him. “I don’t wanna ruin your game, or impose on your friends enjoying their night. Or, like, clash if we don’t get along, or somethin’.”
He cast his gaze wildly around the room. Extra dramatic. “You won’t ruin our game, and my friends will love you–they’re the rest of my band, and some kids who were in my club in high school. You’ll fit right in. And besides.. I want you to meet them.”
Delightful goosebumps tingled at your scalp. Meeting his friends was quite the step in your relationship. And no, mutual friends via Bobbie did not count.
You filled your lungs, and expelled your sigh at the calendar, reading over your penmanship while you thought it over.
“And maybe I didn’t phrase my question correctly. Let me try again.” He cleared his throat. “Will you play DND with us?”
Will you?
A ‘yes’ or ‘no’ question.
“Ah, taking that route,” you said. And just to mess with him, you tapped the marker on the tip of his nose. “Sure–yes–I’ll join you in your roleplaying game, but if they don’t like me, I told you so.”
“Why wouldn’t they like you?”
“I dunno, it took you weeks to speak to me.”
“Yeah, but I’m me.” Eddie shoved himself off the wall and began walking behind you, brushing his hand across your lower back, and bending to your ear to whisper a coy gloat, “And I play hard to get.”
All smiles, smiles, smiles. He took two bouncy steps backwards, opened the glass door in a wide swing and spun on his way inside, whipping his hair in a blur of brunette.
Bewildered by his dorky charm, you watched him through the windows, sighing out the air in your lungs to make room for the blossoming throbs of adoration when he caught his hip on the corner of your desk and tried walking off the pain in case you were watching, only for him to keel over right before he reached the hallway.
You shook your head and resumed where you were in Mr. Moore’s schedule. “You are absolutely not hard to get.”
Looking up, you found the day you were supposed to mark with an important phone meeting, and instead..
January 16th
DND
You drew stars around it, experiencing the childhood rush of endorphins that came from doodling hearts around your crush’s name in your yearbook, and giggling with your friends over it, betting you could get their number so you could call them over the summer, acutely aware none of you would ever dare.
————
Stress squeezed Eddie’s throat. Each cry, each sob, each sniffle set him on edge. His headache pounded, his chest clutched onto the calming breaths he was supposed to prioritize, his heart raced sweat to his skin. Everything was falling apart around him.
“Yeah–Yeah, no, it’s okay. Yeah.” He hung up the phone, chord swaying against the grimy wall, and he pressed his fists above his eyes, turning in a slow circle.
Whistling, screeching, wailing. The boiling kettle on the stovetop pierced the sound of Adrie’s hiccupy bawling. Growing louder, and louder. Rising above the blood pulsing in his ears, the twitch in his strained muscles. The anger under the surface, bubbling. A vice on his chest. Clenching his jaw. Gripping harder. Growing bigger, and bigger, and bigger, his emotions grew bigger until the frustration slipped.
Eddie snapped the stove knob to the off position, and jiggled the broken shitty plastic back on the dial. He moved the kettle to the back burner–sucking his bottom lip in and biting down hard, seeking the relief of pain to keep himself from slamming the kettle into the next dimension. And after swallowing the thickened saliva in his mouth, he walked away from what would’ve been his late, late oatmeal breakfast.
The trailer rattled less and less.
His heavy footsteps exhausted to his socks sliding across the vinyl.
“Adrie,” he begged her name again, and again as he knelt to her chair at the green table. He passed his hand over her hair, petting it away from the sticky streaks of tears on her red cheeks, and he cradled her head to his neck. The flash of anger was gone. It should’ve never seen the light of day, but he was human. He was a single person, and he tamed it the best he could. He was fragile, about to break at the next sob in his ear, but he tried. “Daddy’s gonna fix it, okay? I’ll make it better. I’ll make it better. Let Daddy make it better.”
He was stuck in the loop again. Where everything was so much, and he was so weak. Gathering her as if she were still small and could fit into the crook of his arm. “Let Daddy fix it,” he begged again, rocking her as he did all those years ago; for her, and for him, not having the capacity to do more than cry along with her.
Peeling himself away from her neediness, he worked his hoodie from her fists, and dialed his last resort.
It rang.
And rang.
Hopelessness burdened the expanse of shoulders, dropping them at the fourth trill. “C’mon, c’mon, c’mon, pick up.” The only thing helping calm him was his hand pressed over his eyes. One less stimulus.
Another ring. He was about to give up when–
“Hello?”
“Hey, man! Uh, uhm, what’re you up to?”
The casualness was lost when Steve’s pause elongated to a nasally noise of understanding when Adrie’s whine cut through the static, and Eddie’s cheek smashed to the receiver as he moved into the hallway, curling his frame to the phone like it were a lifeline.
Steve’s tone feathered to the same one he used five years ago when Eddie called frequently, “Is everything okay over there? Nancy and I were packing up the car to head out of town with the kids, but I have a minute. What’s up?”
“Yeah, yeah, everything’s okay, uh–hey, you have Robin’s number, right? For her parent’s place?”
His mood lightened, “Yeah, I think Nance does in her pocketbook. Nance!” He called out for her. Then, he spoke into the receiver, as gently as possible, with grace for him to deny if he wanted, “You’re not trying to call Robin, are you?”
“No.. No, I’m not.”
There was a stint of silence where neither of them broke the wordless understanding woven into their connection; phone, chord, wires, friendship.
At last, Nancy’s footsteps came in clicks on their hardwood flooring, and Steve expressed a soft, “I’m happy for you, man.”
Eddie didn’t correct him that it was about his game night. He simply let his friend’s praise fill the void. It’d been a long time since someone was proud of him.
————
The modest house near the empty plot of land was unassuming. Not much money was invested into the foundation, nor the many repairs, but oddly, it was the furniture and fine dinnerware passed through generations that would have anyone second guessing why a home with a cracked window from two summers ago had a china cabinet. And really, any gust during a storm could shatter the glass pane covered by a delicately orange curtain, but it hadn’t happened yet, and therefore, there was no need to fix it.
In the living room, the TV was too loud. In the kitchen, you closed the fridge with your foot and took the tea kettle off the stove, balancing the makings of a sandwich in your arms.
Eddie said to come over half an hour before everyone else so he could help you create your character sheet, and with it being 4PM, you had three hours before you were supposed to head out, and were spending the afternoon with Robin’s parents while she went to Vickie’s before her late night shift.
You placed two slices of bread on a plate when the phone rang.
From the other room, Robin’s dad answered, and his dry vocal chords carried an air of confusion, “Someone’s calling for you!”
“If they’re asking for bail, I’m not here,” you replied in a monotone voice, getting a butter knife out of the drawer.
There was a shuffle as he sat forward in his chair and inquired, wholeheartedly, “Are you asking for bail?” He waited for a reply while you continued to unscrew the cap to the peanut butter. “He says he’s not!”
“Mm.” Unconvinced this wasn’t one of your friends calling from a police station, you finished pouring the two cups of tea you were intending to make, put sugar into one, and carried them into the living room.
“He sounds like a nice young man,” he assured, adjusting the nasal cannulas higher on his upper lip before taking the cup from you.
Narrowing your eyes with wisdom beyond your years, you informed him, “They always do,” and placed the other tea on the end table between the recliner and couch for Robin’s mom to take whenever she wasn’t piecing together the answer for Wheel of Fortune and whispering it into the TV remote clutched to her face.
You took the phone from him and held it to your ear. “Yellow?”
There was a horribly sad sound on the other end.
“Hey! Hi! I, uhm, hey, it’s Eddie, I’m sorry for calling you, if that’s weird, but I’m–I’m going through a lot here”, he ended in a humorless laugh. “I-I-Adrie–So, look–Adrie, it’s okay, I’m fixing it–Adrie was on a playdate, and I don’t know, I think she got into a fight with her friend or something, and broke the toy they were playing with because she didn’t want to share, so she had to come home early, and now she’s upset because the playdate’s over, and the other girl’s toy broke, and–I already said that–but Steve and Nancy are going out of town, and I can’t find a babysitter last minute that will take her to their place, and Wayne’s out playing poker with his friends, and God, I–” He shifted, and you could tell by the fading whimpers that he moved down the hallway, and by the clack on the phone, it was his fingernails dragging along it as he scrubbed his hand over his face, desperate for someone else to come up with a solution. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what I’m asking of you, but there’s going to be a bunch of guys drinking tonight, and I don’t want Adrie to be around that shit–”
“Eddie?” You didn’t mean to cut him off, but his panic was overwhelming you, and it was easier to concentrate on the one idea your brain latched onto without his input.
“..This is my only night I get to hang out with everyone,” he admitted in a whisper so shy you struggled to hear it. “I’m worried about her distracting me.”
You stared at the linen closet in the hallway to Robin’s bedroom. “I’ve got an idea, okay? Just hold on. I’ll be there in thirty.. maybe forty minutes. That okay?”
More movement sounded from the other end. You thought it was him hanging up without saying goodbye, but then you heard the sweetest thing.
“Miss Mouse is coming over,” he reassured Adrie, and the relief in his voice affected you in the worst way. Making you go all mushy when little Adrie’s hiccupy confirmation came from the depths of her face pressed to the base of his neck.
“M—ouse?”
“Mhmm.”
His hum filled your chest. Her noise of appreciation erupted goosebumps along your forearms. You were wanted–requested–and the square beads digging into your wrist had never felt closer to his, across town.
You addressed Eddie, “I’ve got a plan. Okay? I’ll be over soon.”
“Thank you,” he spoke into the receiver as you hung up.
The phone suspended on the hook in a weighty click. It bounced as you let it go, coil slipping from the table and falling to the floor. You asked your audience of two, “Is it okay if I leave early?”
“Of course you can, dear,” Robin’s dad answered, hoarse from the constant flow of oxygen drying out his throat.
“And can I borrow some of Bobbie’s old bedsheets?”
Her mom made a confused face, but agreed, “Whatever you want, sweet bean.”
–And thus, you had the catalyst for the second time you arrived on Edward Munson’s doorstep with your arms loaded with goodies–
He threw open the door with a dozen apologies stacked behind his teeth. “Hey. I’m sorry for calling you like that, she–”
The she in question came barreling out from behind him.
You dropped your knees to accept Adrienne. Discarding your overstuffed tote bag to hug her wholly; taking her into your arms, and consoling her with all the right words you prepared on your way over. “Hey, I heard you were having a rough day,” you said while tucking her into you tight. “You don’t have to be sad anymore. I’m here.”
Her cheeks had long since dried, but the whiny pitch to her voice teetered on the cusp of a sniffly cry Eddie had only eliminated minutes ago, after his speech about sharing. She mumbled against your puffer jacket, “You came to play wi’h me?”
“I sure did. And you know what? I brought you a surprise.” You flicked your gaze to Eddie to gauge his reaction, and your breath hitched at the beauty of his relief. Standing tall in the doorway over you and his daughter, taking a moment of peace with his eyes closed, mouth in a gentle line, and relaxation easing the near-permanent creases between his brows. The pleasure of a small break from parental duties affected him so physically, you could behold him for hours. Or tell him to go have a cigarette.
However, impatient as any four-year-old, Adrie wriggled in your arms for your attention, and asked what you brought.
Opening the tote, you took out patterned bedsheet after bedsheet. Stars, flowers, cowboys–as many as you could fit, and held them up. “Do you know what we’re gonna make with these?”
“A fort?” she asked, hopeful and bouncing with energy.
“A fort!” you repeated. “We’re gonna build a blanket fort! And I brought movies for you to–”
She grabbed the sheets and took off for her bedroom.
“Okie dokie.” You pushed yourself up from the concrete steps, and fanned out the rented VHSes like a deck of cards to show Eddie instead. “Sorry it took me so long, I stopped by Family Video on my way here. Has she seen these?”
He read the white clamshell packaging, and the dimple on his left cheek developed. “She has,” and before you could react, he pressed on with a reassurance, “but don’t underestimate how many times a kid can watch the same movie and never grow bored of it.”
“Good to know!”
Like that; intuitive, second nature; Eddie knew when he gave you news that could be disappointing, he chased it with a thoughtful remark, validating your considerate gesture.
You slipped them back into the bag, and shouldered it. “I was thinking we could move the TV and VCR in her room, and build a fort around it with a pile of blankets on the floor for her to sleep on like she’s camping. Super cozy. Maybe some string lights if you have some from Christmas?”
“That..” The subtle arch in his eyebrows climbed higher as his eyes drifted closed in true appreciation. “That sounds like a perfect plan.” And his face went apologetic again. “And yeah, thank you for coming early. I was trying to send Adrie on a playdate so she’d come home tired and want to sleep while we’re playing, but, yeah, that went to shit, and then I tried calling her usual babysitters, but they couldn’t watch her at their places, and my uncle’s gone until the morning, and Steve and Nancy are–”
Interrupting him, you stepped into the doorway, and he moved to accommodate you. “Next time,” you said, cupping his upper arm, “just call me first.”
You squeezed and trailed your fingers down his sleeve as you let the moment mature in traces of your fingertips brushing over the thick poly-cotton of his sun-bleached black hoodie missing its drawstring. He prized the moment by memorizing the angel the universe blessed him with; and you were rooted by his gaze, driven to wonder about the ardency which he watched the minute press of your lips when you swallowed, and the coincidence of his own lips twitching into a jumpy smile.
“Let me show you Adrie’s room.”
His home was much the same as when you left it. There was a pillow and blanket tossed on the corner of the couch, a Little Mermaid plate and fork dripping in the dish rack, an assortment of clean clothes piled into a laundry basket on top of the washing machine. Though, Adrie’s toys were put away and the bathroom sink was scrubbed clean of children’s bubble gum flavored toothpaste.
Eddie pushed open the door at the end of the hall, and for the first time, with the tail end of daylight piercing the burgundy curtained window, you saw beyond a few feet to the bed.
You wished you could say the precious girl in the middle of the room caught your eye, but realistically, your attention was drawn to the walls. Specifically, the amount of pink and white Barbie advertisements cut from magazines and special edition My Little Pony fold out posters lining every square inch of available space.
But the girly stuff ended at the height of the dresser beside you.
The bedroom was divided in half, horizontally. Above the mirror decorated in stickers and photos tucked into the frame, the ponies and rainbows ended there, obliterated by a sharp line of black. A RATT flag, Corroded Coffin banner, and printed images of paladins fought the encroaching Carebears and sweet things. Every heavy metal poster in existence overlapped the final push to the ceiling. You took it all in with an air of baffled amusement.
You waved a finger at the top half. “She uh.. a big Judas Priest fan?”
Eddie was already cutting his eyes to you with a sly smile, Adam’s apple bouncing with a mute giggle. “This used to be my room.”
“I figured as much.”
Mixed amongst the posters were guitars hung where only he could reach them, and there was an amp shoved beneath a white desk where his daughter was currently setting up her stuffed animals, picking up one to show you, then second guessing and putting it down.
Eddie vied for you before she could. “Wanna see somethin’?” he asked, walking around the queen sized bed to the closet. Accurately, you guessed he was going to show you a clue to his past, and stepped over the dragging corner of the blue and white comforter, shimmying past him to stand next to the small bookshelf, excitedly watching him reach into the dark abyss. From the top shelf he pulled a lump of jean fabric, and unfolded it, handing it to you. “I used to wear this every day in my youth.”
You pinched the article of clothing between the very tips of your fingers, and turned your head to cough. “Jesus, dude. How much did you used to smoke?”
“Way more than I do now,” he laughed.
After some heavy side-eyeing about his habits, you took a closer look at the garment. The blue plaid lined jean jacket had ratty edges everywhere it could have ratty edges; helped by its sleeves being ripped off, of course. A collection of pins and patches mirrored the ones on his (used to be) bedroom walls–before a princess ruled his kingdom, and fought back the dragons.
“You used to wear this everyday?” you voiced aloud, finding the sentimental value in touching something so dear to him, for him to hang onto it for all these years.
“Should I wear it tonight?” Taking it from you, he flipped up the hood of his sweatshirt, and slipped his arms through the vest, turning around to show you the Dio patch on the back, pointing to it with his thumbs.
You golf clapped. “Very cool. Very tough.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
Eddie faced you and tidied the stray waves of his hair flowing out from under the hood, raking his fingers through his bangs until they were perfectly messy, and again, it was one of those strange exchanges where your too honest gazes met, and he diverted his humble smile to the floor, shy and bashful, but not in pretend like before.
You were in his home, in his daughter’s bedroom, doing him a favor, which was feeling less and less like a favor, and more like a convenient excuse you both seized as an opportunity to hang out.
“Miss Mouse!” Adrie gunned for your hand, and embarked on her greatest effort to break you away from her father, tugging you towards her collection of plushes you still needed to be introduced to.
You gasped at the honor, and asked, “Do you want to tell me about them while I braid your hair?”
She lit up at the suggestion. Eddie wasn’t the best at weaving plaits, and she wasn’t the most patient, so having an unbiased party step in to determine whether it was a ‘him’ problem or a ‘her’ problem sounded grand.
And as you sank onto the edge of the mattress with her sitting criss-cross between your legs, it was obvious within the first few twists of the French braid sitting flat against her head, and curved perfectly over her ear, that it was most definitely a ‘him’ problem.
Behind you, there was a great sigh at your victory.
Adrie held up a brown teddy with one glass bead eye slightly larger than the other after surgery was performed on him to replace the one he lost, and said, “This is Mr. Bear.”
“Nice to meet you, Mr. Bear,” you said, using your best Children’s Television Program presenter voice to entertain her. You threw a smile over your shoulder at the silliness, and Eddie was already looking at you, warm brown eyes shining with the same fondness as yours.
“And he’s married to Mrs. Froggy.”
“Wow, a bear and a frog.” You nodded, impressed. “I guess true love knows no bounds.”
Feeling like the third wheel to you and Adrie, Eddie moved into action. “I’m gonna go out to the shed and start bringing in extra chairs, and the Christmas lights you asked for. And, uh, here’s her hair stuff.” He handed you a basket filled to the brim with every style of ponytail holder a drug store could carry. “You two have fun.”
Naturally, as he stepped away to leave, you curled your fingers at him in a childish wave, while Adrie used Mrs. Frog’s hand to do the same, adding on a sing-songy “Bye!” to hers.
And what a delight it was to witness the beginnings of the red flush creeping up his neck as he took a final glance at you both smiling up at him, and he pinched the hood over his mouth to shield his crooked simpering from further inspection.
~~~
The gloaming sky dozed in a blanket of pink and purple clouds knitted together with ribbons of orange.
Eddie leaned in the doorway to the porch, resting his shoulders on the frame as he crossed his ankles. The backs of his hands stung from overwashing them during the dry season, but his palms were soothed by the piping hot bowl he cupped to his chest. His muscles ached from unrest, but he grew warmer with each bite of the cinnamon sugar toast he dipped into the peanut butter oatmeal. Maybe he wouldn’t have taken the time to wipe down the folding chairs from the shed, but when you asked if there were any spiders on them in that timid wobble of yours, he had no other choice. And he’d do it again, even if his body protested the entire ordeal.
Squinting into the beauty of the setting sun, he sighed. Adrienne squealed. You cheered her on.
The pain in his hands subsided, the clawing hunger in his stomach settled, and the soreness in his lower back relented. All his worries fell away when his girl was happy.
For Eddie, standing by as the outsider to the scene of you and his daughter bonding over the neon green bottle of sloshy bubbles, he was aware of the catch in your voice when you asked about the unicorn and learned of his name, Fluff. You released a tender ‘aw’ from the back of your throat, and oh, it fulfilled him in ways he couldn’t possibly articulate. A simple noise, and it felt like a hug from an old friend. A pinky promise. A rare complacency in his life. Ataraxia.
He sensed it more, and more. When you sprinted back and forth on the porch, blowing bubbles for her to pop before they landed on the ground; giggling, laughing. Giggling, laughing. And he was smiling, smiling. It was sweet, so sweet; this new loop he found himself in. Gone was the stress. You took care of it. You heard him say Adrie needed to be tired out before bed time, and here you were, standing at the edge of the creaky floorboards, blowing a slew of bubbles for her to chase in the deadened grass.
She complained, “I can’t–reach!” She jumped, and jumped, but the bubble caught the gust from her fingertips, and continued floating away.
“Use Fluff!”
Elated at the ingenuity, she snatched Fluff from where he posed at your feet, and she launched herself off the deck for the last bubble, popping it with the very tip of his white horn. “Yay!”
“Rad!”
He watched until your forms were bathed in dusky blue, and the cold swallowed your heaving breaths.
Licking clean the last spoonful of his late, late breakfast, he reminded you both, “You girls better get started on this fort before it gets too late. Still gotta set up for the game too.” After whispering a curse under your breath, you ushered Adrie inside, and he asked her, “Can you take this to the sink?” Remarkably, she took his bowl without complaint, but stood stock still until he forced out a pointed, “Thank you,” in a tone implying she should scram.
She snickered at getting a rise out of him, and jogged away.
He reached into his pocket for the object weighing down the front of his hoodie, and produced a tangerine. Juice squished from the top of the fruit where he stabbed his thumb into the rind, and the scent of fresh citrus filled the air. “The chairs are certified spider-free. Got them inspected by a professional and everything.”
Your glare was mellowed by sweetness. “My hero.”
“Daddy.” Adrie was back, and with one simple demand of her hand held out flat, he peeled faster, and dislodged two segments for her. She popped them in her mouth, and ran to her room.
Interesting..
Testing him, you held your hand out flat as well, and with a bored stare, he placed two segments in your palm too.
“Don’t worry, I won’t call you Daddy unless you want me to,” you said, tossing them in the air, and catching them in your mouth. And as the fruit popped between your teeth, and the cold juice gushed like ice over your tongue, your brain caught up to what you just implied, and you froze mid-chew.
Eddie’s expression morphed from slack-jawed surprise, to intrigue, to his lips clamped tight, body shaking with silent laughter. “What?” he squeaked out.
“Uhh–I mean–How about we forget I said that?” you offered, wagging your finger from him to you.
No way.
No way in hell was he about to let you live that one down.
He loved your blunder. Reveled in it, even. It was sweet, sweet revenge. Payback.
Eddie took you off guard by snatching your wrist. He drew you into him as he pushed off the doorframe, bringing you in real close, eliminating the gap between your bodies. His cheeks may have darkened, but it was his greatest pleasure to imbue all his wickedness into repeating the same word you used months ago when he was driving you to Adrie’s school play and he made a similar joke about your bike and riding a man to work.
His nose scrunched with wolfish satisfaction. “Never.”
“Don’t be mean,” you whined. Putting up a weak fight, you attempted to twist your hand from his grasp to–hopefully–bolt away, and bury yourself in a pile of bedsheets for the rest of eternity; just somewhere you could hide, and desperately avoid thinking about the delicious zing traveling to the worst places.
But he wouldn’t let go.
There was clear disdain in the way his posture stiffened the split-second anyone other than his daughter called him Daddy, but you couldn’t deny how good it felt to introduce the context of calling him such a name, whether it would happen when you were under him, gasping it into his mouth; or in different position, with your knees on either side of his narrow hips, bouncing out the syllables..
His breathing deepened. You squirmed.
Caught in each other’s trap. Impossible to look away, the sweltering fantasy sat heavy in your mutual gaze, wide pupils boring into wide pupils. Heartbeats pounding beneath the surface of uncharted waters. An intimacy to his study of your body language, especially when you tilted your head to the side, and the lingering wryness in his eyes turned curious.
Illuminated by the glow of the bathroom light above the medicine cabinet, the face framing layers of Eddie’s haircut brushed his cheeks from beneath the hard shadows of his hood, and the fog from your exhales mixed in the inky darkness.
Alas, the standoff came to an abrupt end when Adrie called your name.
“I should help her with the fort,” you whispered in a release of tension.
One finger at a time, he opened his harmless grip. “I’m gonna bring your bike up here in case the weather turns,” he said, voice the same as always when he had you this near; quiet, tame, cutting in and out in the vowels.
“What a gentleman.”
Definitely a gentleman when he bit into the tangerine as if it were an apple to distract you from his hand tugging down his hoodie to hide the hard outline stretching towards the thigh of his light wash blue jeans.
You sneered at the fleshy strings of fruit pulp gathering over his lower lip. “And by gentleman, I mean utter weirdo.”
~~~
By winter’s solid nightfall, most of the fort had been completed. Eddie visited the room to drop off the TV (after it had been cleaned of staticy dust clinging to the glass), and placed it and the VCR on top of a Coca-Cola crate at the foot-end of the blanket nest you created. At one point he grabbed his acoustic guitar from the wall, and brought more clothes pins.
You pinned the last corner of the sheet canopy above Adrie while she pulled her tea party table inside the fort, and set up her toys in the itty bitty pink chairs. She volunteered to string the twinkly lights herself, giving you an excuse to go to the kitchen where you could make the highest quality finger sandwiches as dinner for her and her cotton-stuffed guests. And by total coincidence, Eddie was beside you, hunched over the counter with a DND book opened to a page of illustrations with a blank character sheet to his right.
“Ham, mayo, cheese, and the thinnest layer of mustard,” he told you.
You organized the ingredients to Adrie’s sandwich and confirmed, “A hint of mustard. Got it.” Taking two slices of sandwich bread, you placed them on her Beauty and the Beat plate, and dipped a butter knife into the mayo jar, slathering a generous amount on one side. One the other, you merely suggested mustard had been in the presence of it with a single swipe.
He angled the book to you. “Which race and class do you want to play as?”
Looking over the pictures, there were more to choose from than you initially assumed, but there was a clear winner towering above the rest. “That one. The big green guy.” Apparently he was called a half-orc, and he was stacked with muscle on top of muscle. “I wanna be huge and brawny like him, crushin’ my enemies with my giant biceps. Like, everyone’s scared of me, but I save kittens on the weekends. Fighter type, or whatever’s the term. Melee? I wanna beat people up with my bare fists.”
Eddie glanced you up and down. “Overcompensating for something?”
Deflating, your puffer jacket swished fabric-on-fabric as you dropped your arms. You pouted, but the tug at his heartstrings went ignored as he rolled a large dice, and picked up the pencil.
So be it. It was your turn to sum him up in one glance. How his shaggy outdated haircut gathered on his shoulders, curtaining his face as he underlined words on the character sheet, not even paying you attention. How his jean vest paraded his music tastes under years of dust and a decade of smoke baked into it; offensive and meant to ward off others, unless they belonged. How he decorated his skin in macabre imagery, and wore his white tennis shoes with just enough dirt to show he didn’t care. How every denim item he owned came with holes. How his keys dangled from a keyring attached to his belt loop, so everyone was forced to listen to him expressing his apathy towards the world with each stomp, and rattle of chains swinging against his leg. How he bent over the counter with his hip cocked out, making his pants crease to his inner thighs, highlighting a particular package beneath a handcuff belt buckle. How he was decked out in his usual skull themed rings. Prickly, jaded, drives too fast, and has never heard of an ‘inside voice’ once he deemed you worthy of his boisterous ramblings. Loud, obnoxious, excessively weird when he was himself around you.
You asked, “Are you overcompensating for something?”
“I don’t need to.”
Cool, smooth, nonchalant.
I don’t need to.
Warmth flooded your abdomen. Heat reached your cheeks. Blood rushed, descended to the place your thighs clenched, where your jean’s stiff metal zipper went tight–and if you stood a certain way–the seam grazed over.
Rolling the dice again, his expression remained impassive as he filled in more blank spots, asking you in a monotone voice, “What’s your orc’s name?”
“Gary,” you answered in a bout of exasperation, annoyed he’s acting like he didn’t just say that.
There was no way you were about to be the one squirming again. After his teasing earlier, he deserved a dose of his own medicine.
Feeling undue bravery, you set the butter knife down, and rested your elbow on the counter, angling your body towards him with your hands linked over your stomach, wearing an adorably smug pinch of confusion between your brows. You were the example of casual when you asked, “Do orcs fight with a dagger? Maybe six and a half.. seven inches in length? Curved to the right? Real girthy handle?”
Eddie’s face lurched into wide-eyed awe at your bombshell of an innuendo. He turned his head slowly, frizzy curls sticking to his just-licked lips, fluttering in front of his gawking smile as he exhaled a stunned huff. His big brown eyes were alert with the thrill of the subject, and he stared, waiting for you to fold. You didn’t blink, acting classes coming in handy as his eyebrows climbed higher and higher, and you remained stoic, free of emotion.
A choked out– “I..” –came from his mouth, but he didn’t finish. He hooked his finger around a lock of hair, and twisted it, yanking more over the lower half of his face as he shrank into the comfort of his hoodie, leaving just his eyes visible.
At last, he answered, voice wavering high and tight, “A little over seven, I think.”
You lifted your chin, and rolled your lips inward, steeling yourself from voicing anything other than an impressed hum.
However..
Having a knack for bad decisions, you drew in a breath to speak–but Adrie came to your rescue before you humiliated yourself by saying something abhorrent like, ‘my, my, that’s quite a size,’ or ‘I heard that orc’s been single a while; what’s his skill level with that weapon?’ or worse, ‘need a second opinion on that length?’
“Are you almost done?”Adrie asked.
She sought the answer by snaking her hands under your jacket and clinging onto the back of your hips, making you jolt at her cold fingers creeping over your skin, and you stumbled after she trusted you to support her weight while she jumped onto her tippy toes.
You lost your balance, and your hero from further harm was Eddie.
Well, less of a hero, and more like he stood with his arms pinned to his sides, and took the brunt of your fall.
He released a painful wheeze from being wedged into the corner where the sharp edges of the countertop dug into his bones.
“Sorry,” you think you whispered, but maybe it never left your lungs.
You watched the subtle tic under his eyes when he said, “S’okay,” and the ‘s’ whistled sharply between his teeth.
It was amazing–incredible–to discover he had freckles sprinkled across the top of his cheekbones, standing out against the telltale shade of embarrassment. You’d never been this close to notice them before; near enough your nose tickled from the end of his hair. Never had the opportunity to catch yourself on his bicep, and feel the extraordinary body heat radiating off him, dialed on high from the last few minutes. And now you had to continue living as if you didn’t know his dick size.
Adrie brought you back to reality. “Can you cut off the top crust? It’s shaped like a butt, and I don’t like it.”
Letting go of Eddie, you reached for her, patting her shoulder for her back up and release you from this awkward prison. “Y-Yeah, of course. No top crust. Got it, little lady.”
She giggled and kept talking as you put an ample gap between you and her dad. Thank God she giggled and kept talking as you and Eddie regained some semblance of composure.
“Can you cut it in long squares?”
“Rectangles,” Eddie corrected gently.
“Reck-tangles,” she pronounced.
“Perfect.” He grabbed his pencil and dice, and picked up where he left off on your character sheet. And you were more than happy to play along, peeling the Kraft Single from its plastic film and placing it on top of two slices of ham before cutting it into long squares.
~~~
With her sandwich made, you and Adrie sat at the tiny pink table under the fort. Your neck ached from the constant hunched position, and your legs were falling asleep, but you’d deal with the pain if it meant having tea with the princess.
She tipped air from an empty tea pot into the tea cups, and Mr. Bear thanked her for his imaginary portion.
Throughout the play-dinner, Eddie was in and out of the room. There were noises from the closet, sounding like he was picking up shoeboxes filled with rattling items. The canopy drooped when he opened the top drawer on the dresser where it was tied. Musical notes from a wind instrument trilled from the living room.
After another bite of her sandwich–Oh, no, Princess Adrienne, I’m much too full, you may have mine–a ne’erdowell crashed your exclusive party.
“Hey, this is pretty,” Eddie said, poking his head inside; his grin lengthening into a frightful shadow from the Christmas lights stuck in his hair. He looked around at the hard work his little girl put into the fort, linking the bedsheets from his old desk, across the back of a chair, and held aloft by the dresser. The TV occupied the space one of his amps used to, and the nest of blankets covered what used to be a network of cords, albums, and magazines. But that was years ago. Now, his gaze settled on the adult woman feigning a long sip on her toddler-sized tea cup, and a hand smashed against his face–
Adrie shoved him out of the fort, and whipped closed the entryway bedsheet. “No boys allowed!”
“But.. I need to borrow Miss Mouse,” he begged in a pitiful quaver.
She cut her eyes to you, and rolled them into the next eternity (a move you’d become an expert in yourself.) You bargained with her in a haughty shrug, and after a moment of consideration, she drew back the curtain. “Fine.”
Making an unglamorous exit by crawling on your hands and knees, you accepted Eddie’s warm palm to help you stand. “What’cha need help with?”
“The folding table is behind the couch, and it’s annoying to pull out by myself with all the mugs in the way,” he explained on his way to the living room. “Oh, can you move that stuff off it? Yeah, just toss it in a corner.”
He used his shin to push the coffee table against the wall while you picked up the pillow and stack of blankets off the corner of the couch. But after collecting them to your chest, and the thinning pillow released a puff of air from its wilted self, you were struck with an array of scents. Hair products, cigarette smoke, vanilla, sour sweat; notes of exhaust, motor oil, and fumes.
It smelled bad in the good way.
The mix stung your nostrils, twinged at your eyes. But it was a comfort you hugged tighter. Familiarity you inhaled deeper. Home in your lungs.
You took his pillow, and Adrie’s kaleidoscope quilt with the tattered facing, and went to place them on the fold-out bed in the corner, assuming it was his; but as you neared, you scrutinized the collection of items on the oak nightstand beside it. A brand of cigarettes he didn’t smoke, a BIC lighter he didn’t use, a comb, and a clunky silver watch. And as you thought about it more, you saw the fold-out bed already had a set of sheets and a pillow balanced on top of it.
“Eddie, where do you sleep?”
There was much care put into your question, but the uneasy way it probed into his private life was evident in his change in demeanor.
He was slow to stand up from adjusting a side table out of the way, never quite unslouching the weight from his shoulders when he pushed his hood back to run a hand over his hair. The cuckoo clock on the wall ticked by as you watched him scratch his fingernails in tight circles on his scalp, roughing up his hair, never quite focusing his gaze on anything.
“Well,” he mumbled, gesturing at the lumpy couch cushions. “Here.”
Despite figuring as much, he never stated it bluntly, and to know another hardship of his reality squeezed your heart with sympathy.
He must’ve read the emotion on your face as pity, because his tone reflected an edge of annoyance; a deep-seated stress sneaking out when he spoke to those who didn’t get it. “Most of my paycheck goes to Adrie’s daycare. That shits expensive, and as much as I don’t want her growing up right in front of me, things will get better when she finally starts real school. I won’t be paying for that anymore, and I can start saving up, and maybe, y’know, start making some changes around here.” He spoke with his hands in a sad sort of shrug, waving at the trailer, though his gaze was cast down, and away from you. “But this is how it is, okay? I can’t do anything to fix it.” There was a haunting sort of pessimism that came from living in poverty. As much as he made statements about changing his life when he had more money, there was still the pile of bills in the kitchen, the numerous things in need of fixing around the house, Wayne’s truck on its last leg, and the fear of a random doctor visit wiping out his bank account. All of that resided in his tone.
You gripped his pillow harder, not sure what to say other than a hushed, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to bring it up.”
At that, he shook himself out of ruminating on his situation, and saw you were awkwardly twisting the pillowcase around your fingers, staring at the floor. He realized he messed up.
Every bit of him went soft for you. “Wait, wait, wait,” he soothed, striding three steps to you and cupping his palms around your upper arms. “I didn’t mean to say it like that. Not to you. Not when you’ve been the sweetest–seriously, the sweetest, and most generous person to me and Adrie. It–It, yeah, it hits a sore spot, talking about shit like having to sleep on the couch, but I didn’t mean to speak to you that way.” He finished with a final, sweet, but quick, and enunciated assurance, “I’m sorry.”
Overwhelmed by the whiplash in his change of attitude, followed by his sincere apology, you stammered, “Oh, uh, it’s okay. I understand why you reacted the way you did. It’s cool.”
At an impasse, you looked up at him. He stroked his thumbs over the cool outer layer of your jacket. Swish, swish, swish.
More, deeper. Swish, swish, swish.
You understood.
This was our first fight as whatever-we-are, and I’m showing you I can apologize instead of brushing it off and forgetting about it like I used to.
It was the mildest spat, yet it was a milestone for him.
“Seriously, we’re good,” you said, crushing the pillow to your chest.
Shifting the subject, he lightened the mood. “Also, did I mention how much I appreciate you coming over early, and playing with Adrie? The whole fort thing, going out of your way to get her movies, ‘nd making her run around like a maniac? Genius.”
“Yeah, yeah, put it on that ‘thank you’ tab you owe me,” you teased him, pulling away to set his bedding on top of his uncle’s.
“Soon!” he promised. He tapped at the side of his head. “Got some ideas brewing in here.”
“Not sure if I should be excited, or scared.”
Ah, his two-front-teeth-showing grin. Your favorite.
He laughed, and with your help, the couch was scooted away from the wall enough for the wood laminate fold-out table to be wiggled out from behind it at an angle which avoided knocking the mugs hanging from the shelf above it. You draped a tablecloth over it in a flourish. Eddie pressed the wrinkles out of the grid pattern, and began placing miniature standees from the shoeboxes onto the squares; parts of a village, cobblestone fences, and characters to fill out the town. When he didn’t need you anymore, you went to check on Adrie, and the moment you crawled inside the fort and she showed you the pajamas Eddie picked out for her earlier, there was a series of car honks outside.
Showtime.
“You ready, Miss Adrie?”
“Mhm!”
Tires crunched rocks in the makeshift driveway. Engines died. Noises, greetings, Eddie’s happiness grew louder, and louder. A group sounded off. Several sets of shoes scraped the cement steps, and in the amalgamation of voices was one above the rest, “Hey, looking good, man. Haven’t seen you since you almost killed my elven ranger before Christmas.”
You crawled backwards out of the fort, and caught Adrie’s hand before she ran out of the room.
From the living room, Eddie sucked his teeth, and dismissed his friend. “You had it coming all night with the way you were walking around not checking for traps.”
“It was one time! And besides–” The argument stopped. His blue eyes went wide with shock, outstretched arms drooping as he focused on something behind Eddie. He lowered the two six packs he was carrying. “A girl!”
Being led by an excited almost-five-year-old, you bolted around the kitchen counter, and raised your eyebrows at the blunt acknowledgement of your existence. You looked at Eddie, whose entire being depleted with a sigh.
With his head hung, he swept his arm towards you. “This is my friend from work. She’s playing with us tonight.” And under his breath, he muttered to the young man wearing a ballcap over his springy curls, “Be cool.”
He shoved a six pack at Eddie’s chest, and pursued you with his hand held out. “I’m Dustin! Eddie’s friend from high school, and previous Hellfire member,” he said, displaying a mouthful of adult braces.
“Dustin, it’s nice to meet you!”
Repeating people’s names back to them was a helpful memorization tool, but as your gaze shifted, the nerves of making a good first impression on Eddie’s friends sat heavy in your stomach.
The other guys on the stairs came up behind Dustin. In a rush, you were introducing yourself to the beginnings of a crowd stomping through the living room. Exchanging names and smiles and handshakes, you gripped Adrie’s tiny hand for support and said, “I’m the receptionist at the auto shop, that’s how I know Eddie.”
The one who approached you last–Gareth, drummer for Corroded Coffin–snapped his fingers, and exclaimed, “Oh! You’re the receptionist.”
“Alright, alright,” Eddie interjected, body and voice between you two. “Beer goes in the kitchen, and I’ll order pizza in a minute.”
He passed off the six pack to someone else.
Gareth reached into his leather jacket with a wicked, lopsided grin. “I brought something a little stronger than beer.” Though most of your vision was taken up by the back of Eddie’s shoulder, you caught a flash of amber liquid in a clear bottle, and a black label.
Kneeling beside you, Jeff–guitarist for Corroded Coffin–tilted his head down so Adrie could touch the wooden beads at the end of his short braids, and said to Eddie, “You know, since we’re havin’ it at your place again, why not make it memorable? Or not memorable,” he joked. “Maybe a sip for every roll under 13.”
Eddie gave him the Dad stare. “You’re gonna be shitfaced–Adrie, you didn’t hear that–by the time this is over, and I’m not organizing rides for all of you.”
“I’m driving tonight.” Lloyd–bassist for Corroded Coffin–jangled his car keys.
“And so am I,” a girl’s voice came from beyond the entryway everyone was crowding. “Now can we come inside before we freeze to death, or do you really think you can take on another basilisk without my help?”
A round of laughter gave way to the next group entering.
SWISH, SWISH, SWISH.
The girl at the helm of the windbreaker brigade went to the kitchen to drop off the case of beer straining her arms. (It seemed that was the payment of choice to the host.)
Sensing you were lost to the sea of faces, Eddie laid a comforting hand between your shoulder blades, and drifted it downwards to the small of your back. “That’s Erica, Max, and Lucas,” he told you in your ear.
Max held on tight to Lucas’ arm, taking smaller steps into the mixture of orange and blue-white lamps flooding the room tight with bodies, and shapes she was unfamiliar with.
“Aw, don’t you two look cute,” Gareth goaded them in an overly saccharine way.
Max groaned, “I told him it was lame.”
Whereas she shrank into her black and neon pink jacket, Lucas scoffed, and fueled her disgusted tongue click. “Matching windbreakers should be the least of your worries. You’re playing Dungeons and Dragons. You can’t get any lamer than that.” To finish, he popped the collar of his in a suave swish, and guided her into the kitchen.
She made a gagging sound, and Erica made one too.
————
While waiting for the last guest to arrive, the front door remained open. The glow from inside etched the peeling paint on the stair’s ornate handrail in gold. Warm laughter rolled out like fog into the dry frigid night, where neighbors could hear it. See it. Feel the vibrations of Eddie Munson’s friendship, support, weirdness being celebrated. Witness the joy others could not steal from him. They could observe the vehicles parked out front, listen to the rapture of claps when Adrie performed a song and dance, and taste the bitterness in their mouths when Eddie “The Freak” Munson continuously found his gaze drifting to the girl beside him, who beamed at him openly.
————
Fashionably late, a loud car turned into the trailer park; the obnoxious kind, where the motor rumbled like a death rattle, but in a cool way, because it was made to sound like that on purpose.
Eddie looked over his shoulder, and raised his hand at Mike. “Hey, man,” he whispered, keeping their conversation separate while everyone else was exchanging stories.
“Did you wanna check out the engine?” Mike bounced his eyebrows, swinging the keys to his bright yellow muscle car. “I installed it a few weeks ago.”
It was a tempting offer. He wasn’t opposed to car talk, nor freezing his hands off to fawn over the modifications Mike made to his beloved 1979 Mustang while in the big city for school, and, of course, Eddie was going to give him his usual spiel about working for David when he came back to Hawkins. However, he didn’t want to abandon the newest member to their party.
“In a min,” Eddie said to Mike, motioning with his head to come inside.
Assuming he’d just tossed his girl to the wolves, Eddie zoned into the conversation again, and rubbed his hand along your back. His palm passed over the warm spot on your jacket where he was comforting you before, and he glanced around the circle of his friends–tightly knit, and grinning at you.
He assumed wrong.
You weren’t shy, or intimidated to be the new person in a group of people who’d known each other for decades, failing to be heard over their easy banter and inside jokes. No. They were hanging onto your every word.
The group had gone hushed, captivated by your life. You had a knack for turning the mundane into marvelous enthrallments of relatable spectacular. Every sentence was more entertaining than the last. The punch lines landed, and kept coming. You worked them like a crowd–and when someone else shared a similar anecdote, you were asking questions, getting them to open up, and take the stage. This was you. You were in your element. You didn’t need Eddie.
“Oh! That reminds me of this one lady when I was waitressing in Philly..”
“In New York we had these huge pigeons that would..”
“Back home, there was this place on the corner where..”
Eddie took his hand away. The insulated warmth dissipated from his palm as he let it hang at his side. Your rolodex of stories separated you from him.
“Dude, you wanna talk about bad dates? This one time..”
“And then there was this guy who..”
“–Worst kiss ever.”
Details were spared–maybe because both he and Adrie were there–but the story beats were like stabs to his stomach. Clenched, sinking hot with envy. It wasn’t like him. Not really. He didn’t think so, anyway. But maybe he was wrong.
Jealousy prickled under his skin at every mention of ‘home’ and ‘date.’ He didn’t appreciate the heat to his cheeks, nor the loneliness of his hand reaching out for Adrie, only for her to notice him with a sleepy blink while she clung to your hips, and it was your fingers rubbing her little shoulder.
Of course he knew the subject of your stories, of course he knew you’d been on hundreds of dates, of course he knew you lived a larger life than him, but he’d never had to listen to the yearn in your voice when you spoke about the things you missed. The city, the people, being on stage. Performing, collecting stories, having dinners at sit-down restaurants. These were eccentricities integral to your design, and Eddie Munson had no place among them.
“Hey, Wheeler?” The lump in Eddie’s throat grew. Even Mike was transfixed on listening to you, forgetting about the keys in his hand. Leaning closer, he tapped on his friend’s teal raincoat to get his attention. “Mike? You wanted to show me your–?”
“Right!” Mike whipped his head around, sending his shaggy haircut bouncing in freshly styled waves. “Yeah, so I started with..” he trailed off, walking down the stairs, and out to the yard.
Before Eddie followed, he surveyed the group; Gareth was snickering his way through a story, while the rest of you went nauseous at his description of getting eighteen stitches, and replicating the sound of the needle popping through his skin.
“Babe?” he whispered under the group’s grossed out gasps, speaking the endearment for you only. Taking control, in a way, of his shame by reminding himself he could call you by a sweet nickname, and you’d answer.
You divided your attention, tipping your ear to him, and tearing your gaze from Gareth’s bizarre reenactment of how he fractured his tibia, and settling your eyes on Eddie’s Cupid’s bow when he made a request, “I’m gonna talk shop with Mike. Can you take over here? Get people settled, and Adrie in bed?”
“Of course, handsome.”
For couples, this is where he would duck to give you a kiss on the forehead, or bring you to his side for a hug and be on his way, and perhaps you gleaned those tentative actions when he hesitated on the lean-in, and sat in the subsequent awkwardness of playing it off as a friendly pat on your back when he realized, yeah, he’d never hugged you before.
You diffused the tension by laughing at him. Great.
As he rolled his eyes, you stopped him from leaving, and stepped away from the group.
“Where should we put our jackets?” you asked, pinching the zipper of yours.
Eddie paused in the middle of his gangly stride, and glanced at the two available hooks beside his leather jacket. It hadn’t started snowing or sleeting yet, so everyone’s coats would be dry. “Couch is fine.”
You said, “Cool,” and plunged your hand. In the blink of an eye, you had unzipped your jacket, and thrown your arms back, wiggling it down your shoulders and tugging it off by the cuffs. Underneath your jacket was a tight white tank top and unbuttoned flannel. A nice, fitted, ribbed shirt. Lower cut than anything you had worn at the auto shop, and clinging to your chest as you arched your back and shimmied out of your outer layer.
His gaze stalled.
You didn’t comment on it. He didn’t say anything, either, when his focus snapped to your face, and he read your sly smirk. Adrie, however, grew restless.
“I’m sleepy,” she whined.
“Okay, sweet bean,” you said, besotted by how little her hand was in yours. “C’mon, we can pick out the first movie to play in the fort, too.”
Eddie, thankful to have a distraction, and even more thankful you didn’t call out his obvious ogling, sank to his knees to give his little girl a goodnight hug and kiss. Part of him missed not being able to sit on the couch with her falling asleep on his chest, but the twelve peppered kisses to her cheek would have to suffice. He trusted you to take over the last few steps of Adrie’s night routine without his supervision, and sat back on his calves–after doting over her one last time by straightening out the long sleeves on her pajamas, and twirling the end of her braid around his finger.
“Night,” he kissed against her forehead.
“Night, Daddy,” she kissed back.
Kneeling on the carpet for a moment longer, he ran his tongue along the sharp edge of his teeth at watching you walk away with her. He was hidden amongst the throng of legs, and deep conversation. Invisible for now.
Drop, by drop, his chest filled with tender emotions. A coffee pot of feelings he swore to suppress poured into his heart; brimming the edge, overflowing, bringing heat to those neglected hopes, longings, and desires. Minutes ago you spoke of home, and he was aware he was not owed the promise of you changing the location of home to within biking distance, but he could hope, because every second you spent with him and his daughter was another coin in the wishing well, sploshing the coffee over.
Soon, the overflow would trickle to his lungs. It would fill them up. It would reach his throat. It would coat his tongue, wet his mouth, and before he knew it, those confessions would be spilling into words for you to cup to your mouth and drink until you were as full as he was.
Or, he could suppress them tonight with alcohol. Just enough to dull the urge, but still act as Dungeon Master.
Or, the whiskey could loosen his tongue, and risky sentiments could flood over, one steady drop at a time.
Either way, he was drowning.
~~~
Diving into the true purpose of the evening, the party split between the kitchen and the table in the living room. Jeff went out to Lloyd’s truck, and brought in a long black case. Snapping the latches open, he took out an electric keyboard, and began setting it up in his lap while Gareth rapped his drumsticks on his thighs in a slow rhythm. In the bedroom, you fluffed up the blankets for Adrie to lay on, tucked the comforter to her chin, and brushed her bangs off her forehead while the blue flash of the Disney castle logo played across her heavy eyelids. Idling around the variety of beers on the kitchen counter, Max gripped one of the silver and red cans, and spun it around its plastic ring holder, straining to discern the label.
You came up behind her to let her know, “That one’s Bud Light.”
“Ew,” she frowned, “who would bring that?” She opted for the can of Pabst instead.
“Some people have no tastes.”
On cue, Dustin wove his way through Lucas’ and Erica’s argument over which Mortal Kombat character was the best, adding a quick, “Liu Kang, obviously,” and snapped a silver can from the ring pack. He looked from you to Max. “What?”
Shifting from the secret giggles rising in your chests, she shrugged. “Nothing!”
He squinted at her, not buying it. Cracking the tab, he took a sip, and then you became the subject of interest. “So,” he started, “how long have you and Eddie been friends?”
Perplexion drew Max’s eyebrows together.
Aware of where this was going, you got your own beer, and carried an airy, casual tone while popping the cap, “Oh, just a few months, since I moved here with my roommate–Robin, if you know her.” His expression answered for you, arching in an ‘ah!’ of understanding.
Max, though, was stuck on another detail. “Wait, you and Eddie aren’t dating? I thought–I figured since he’s never invited anyone here before, and his daughter was, like, holding onto you?”
“Yeah, Adrie’s pretty fond of me, I think,” you answered, hiding your own secret behind the glass bottle to your lips. “And Eddie’s cool, too, I guess.”
“Well, I don’t know about him being cool, per se–” she was cut off.
Blurs of black and teal tumbled in rivers of frosted breath, and clattering teeth. Mike shivered life into his limbs on his way to the sink to run his hands under hot water. Eddie’s cheeks and nose were tinted frosty red as he wiped the dirt from his numb fingers onto his hoodie, and pulled his wallet from the junk drawer to check it for cash.
His brown eyes zeroed on you first, Dustin’s wiry mug second, and Max’s tilted lips third.
As he picked up the phone to dial for pizza delivery with his grease-scraped knuckle, he warned in a playful inflection, “You better not be telling her embarrassing stories about me.”
“Oh, no!” Max promised him. “I didn’t even tell her about how I used to live across from you, and caught you–on numerous occasions–sweeping the porch while blasting ABBA, and screaming the lyrics at the top of your lungs. While drunk.” She didn’t need to see him from across the kitchen to feel the heat of his glare, and duel it with another cool shrug, defeating him with ease when the pizza place picked up, and he had to stumble over his order.
Once the hurdle of dinner was out of the way, the drinks of choice sweated under the cozy temperature of ten bodies packed like sardines at the table, and with Eddie at the helm of it all, the game commenced.
He set forth a toast. Affection swelled in his even gaze sweeping over his friends who had come to join him in his home, acknowledging the growth behind his ordinary request. He couldn’t speak it without a nervous tremble, no, but they understood. They understood. With pride, his eyelashes twinkled at the outer corners where mirth gathered, and his broad grin creased a slew of Crow’s feet into cascading to his smile lines with his dimple nestled between them. His silent gratitude thanked the room, and when he reached Jeff at his right hand side, Eddie flicked his eyes to the opposite end of the table, and brought the whiskey to his lips.
The room refracted beautifully in the carved edges of the smokey gray tumbler. It was silly, almost, how the squat glass vanished behind his large palm and thick fingers. Sillier, even, when you noticed these things and your heart pumped a little faster.
Sat at the far end across from him, you raised your beer, and sipped.
“Now, ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, children of all ages,” he spoke in increasing speed and passion, descending into a lower octave as he stood and loomed over his dividers of books, binders, and folders acting as a shield to his Dungeon Master antics, “I present to you, the port town of Irrilis!”
He bowed, and swept his arms over the miniature display.
Sitting back, he guided everyone into the scene. Between describing the smell of the briny sea, the itch of stale sweat mixed with dried blood on their bodies, and the creak of wooden planks under their feet, he expertly wove lore into details of the town, comparing the afternoon sun on the backs of their necks to the stares they were getting. The townsfolk were not expecting newcomers this evening, apparently; and to finish the introduction, he cupped his hands to his mouth and bellowed the caw of seagulls perched atop a gnarled bulletin board. When it became clear the fishermen were not interested in speaking to Lloyd’s tiefling, he asked if there was a guard nearby instead. Instantly, Eddie became one. He donned a constant salute, and rigid posture with a nasty curl on his lip, speaking in stunted sentences with a broadened chest.
Watching him perform was mesmerizing.
Your vision narrowed as if you were going lightheaded, highlighting Eddie at the center with sharpened colors. His broad movements coaxed you in, his ability to switch both his pitch and accent raced in your ears, his creature cadence hummed nostalgia along the back of your mind like an old memory of observing another actor on stage mastering their craft. Time forgot to start. He stole a glance in your direction and you were washed in humility. He was gauging your reaction to his geekiness, and whatever he saw, whatever was written in your expression, rewarded his vulnerability. Confidence set his face aglow; power in the way he beheld you. And you praised him by sitting forward, affixing him with all your adoration, considering yourself fortunate to be in his presence.
After all, you’d been enchanted by Eddie Munson since the first day he stomped past your desk with a fierce scowl aimed at the ground, and now? Now he couldn’t keep his eyes off of you.
~~~
As with most DND adventures, the fun began at a tavern.
The group had spent too much time with Eddie as their DM, they knew the bulletin board was a red herring, so they explored the city until they found the seediest bar tucked into the end of an alleyway.
You were reading over the details Eddie wrote for you on your character sheet when you were snatched to the present by an array of sounds.
Eddie strummed down on his acoustic guitar, and silenced the vibration with his palm. He then plucked a slow, seeking, progression, circling back until Jeff harmonized on his keyboard, and they nodded their heads in sync while Gareth found the tavern’s beat with the ends of his drumsticks on the edge of the table. Lloyd angled his chair to put his guitar in his lap, and chased the melody quietly under Eddie’s, at a slower tempo.
To be captivated by someone, wholly immersed in their quirks and nature, is to cherish them, and as you played audience to your friend’s natural charisma and ability to impress you in new ways after months of knowing him, your chest panged with the ache to cherish him completely.
You were one beer deep on an empty stomach, and you were already intoxicated by him.
Their song continued as he laid out the exposition of the tavern, and as a party, everyone sat at the bar, or snuck around invisible to glean information. And that’s where you came in–
Jeff changed his tune to have a mysterious dissonance.
Erica’s rogue sidled in beside you at a table, and smoothly asked you a variety of questions: how long you’d been in town, if you knew of the disappearances, or had any encounters with the rumor of the undead lurking outside the kingdom.
You… You looked at your orc’s low intelligence on the paper, and seeing as how you were an improv artist, you roleplayed.
Inhaling a mighty breath, you filled out your not-so-intimidating frame with imaginary muscle, and shot out your hand. “I’m Gary!” you exclaimed, rough and tough.
The guitars stopped on a screech.
Pause.
Eddie covered his mouth. His eyebrows peaked sentimentally. And once his shoulders shook, and his snort squeaked out like a dying sprinkler, everyone laughed. In your periphery, they each reacted differently–all having their unique outbursts at your blunt introduction. Erica, too, giggled as she shook your hand. They were laughing with you. Definitely with you when Jeff chose a sillier ditty to play, and the guys matched him, upbeat and excited for you to wholeheartedly participate in their game.
Soon, your orc joined their party, and a series of clues earned from armwrestling other bar patrons led you down several paths to take, and after finding a lost tome near an underground jail cell (thanks to Dustin’s constant perception checks), your group was led outside, past Irrilis’ stone walls, and to their dying crops.
Mike scooped a collection of dice into his hand after, somehow, engaging in combat with a scarecrow, and began shaking them.
There was a bang at the door.
Mike jumped, uncupping his palms mid-shake, and the dice went flying. He caught three–snatched them right out of the air–and before they ricocheted off his fingers to add to the clatter on the table, he began to juggle them. One, two, three, four perfect rotations, and he set them down.
Eddie hadn’t yet stood up from his chair when his gaze wandered to yours, and he cut you a cheeky, significant grin. You shot him an exaggerated sneer in return. Stupid juggling.
He managed to not trip over the scattered mix of boots and tennis shoes mingling around the entrance, and balanced the exchange of cash for a stack of white cardboard boxes his eyes and handsome nose peeked over on his way to sliding them onto the kitchen counter.
“Orders up, boys.”
As grease soaked into paper plates, and another round of drinks were poured by Gareth’s heavy hand, you were all ushered into the next leg of the game.
Jeff played low notes as background mood music for your party when you came upon your next encounter: ghouls. They were low level, easy to defeat even if there were many, but it was an opportunity for Erica to teach you the different dice. Max leaned over, and helped you keep track of your abilities, and if you could execute them from where you stood on the grid.
When it was Max’s turn to roll for attack and damage in the rotation, she did so in a shallow wooden tray between her and Lucas. The dice tumbled around, pinged the sides, and came to a stop where Lucas could read the numbers, and do the math.
Least to say, she decimated her target.
Erica’s rogue on the other hand rolled a number Eddie was ambivalent towards.
“Convince me you can sneak up on him,” he proposed, squinting over his steepled fingers, and leaning back in his chair. They seemed to butt heads a lot, if her eye roll was anything to go off of.
She stood up from the table, and snapped her fingers at Mike to act as her overly large zombie. “C’mon.”
He groaned, “Not again,” but did as he was told, standing not unlike a limp noodle with a flat stare into the distance as she listed off her character’s skills for Eddie, and hooked her arm around Mike’s throat, bending him backwards over her pencil (pretend knife) to his back. She even shuffled him to where Eddie could acknowledge the poison on the tip of her blade would enter his kidney. He argued the undead did not have functioning kidneys, but conceded her efforts.
It was your turn next, but as you were mulling over the ghouls on the grid in front of your figurine, the rest of the table went silent.
The bedroom door creaked open, and soft footsteps padded out onto the kitchen vinyl. Eddie jerked his head up from behind the dividers. Gareth scooted his chair in, assuming Adrie was going to squeeze by on her way to her dad, but there was no need..
She wedged herself between you and Max, and splayed her arms across your lap. With her cheek to your thigh, she sighed, pitifully, “The movie stopped, and my head hurts.”
“Oh, no,” you consoled her in your silly Children’s Television Program presenter voice. “Is it the braids? They can be so un-com-for-table to sleep in.” Perhaps you instilled too much confidence in the pizza to soak up the alcohol, because you were now two beers and a few sips of whiskey deep into the ‘overly affectionate’ stage of your tipsiness. You collected the sleepy girl to your lap, and enveloped her in a bone crushing hug, rocking yourselves back and forth, fawning each other in a happy hum, unaware of the bewildered stares boring into you as you pressed a kiss above her ear.
The men around the table exchanged confused looks with each other, then threw suspicious glances at Eddie, who appeared struck by Cupid. The girls, much more intuitive and observant, smiled at the sweet scene.
She sat sideways across your legs, and kept a hand crooked into your flannel’s collar while you slipped the yellow bauble ponytail from one of her braids, and loosened the plaits. “Do you wanna roll for me?” you asked her, working through the tangles.
Thrilled to participate in her dad’s game, she woke up just enough to say, “Yeah!”
Max felt for your dice, and handed her the largest.
Instead of Adrie letting go of you to cup her hands around it and shake, she pelted it at the table, and after narrowly missing the LEGO skeleton standees, it came to a stop.
“Eight,” Lloyd said with a hint of regret.
You asked Eddie, “Is that enough to hit?”
“It, uh–” The table’s full attention turned towards the Dungeon Master. He dropped his gaze to his notebook, and traced his finger over the dog-eared page. The pressure of their anticipation manifested in his bouncing knee, masking the tremble that would be present in his words regardless when he answered, “Y-Yeah, yeah. That, uh, that hits.”
The party squirmed with awareness; pressed lips ready to burst.
Oblivious, you put the smaller dice in Adrie’s hand, and added up the numbers when she tossed them. “Eleven!” With your turn done, you unraveled the rest of her other braid, and combed your fingers through her hair, circling them on her scalp to give her some relief. Speaking to her, you said, “Wanna count to eleven while we pick another movie?” She started counting automatically.
There was another whisper in her ear, and she hopped off your lap with her arms raised. You cooed a small, “Thought so,” and picked her up, settling her on your hip. Knowing it was Jeff’s turn, and you wouldn’t be needed for a while, you pushed the bedroom door open with your foot, and closed it behind you the same way.
And the very second it clicked shut, the table erupted.
“Jesus, dude, you’re gonna impregnate your coworker if you keep staring at her like that.”
“Ew,” and “Gross,” came from Max and Erica respectively.
Eddie jolted from his trance, mentally erasing the sway of your ass from his mind. His cheeks seared vicious red at Gareth’s comment.
With more tact, Dustin lilted, “So, just a friend from work, huh?” His blue eyes sparkles with mischief, matching the upturn at the corner of his lips, foretelling no good from this interaction, either.
“A friend,” Jeff added, “that he has the biggest crush on.”
Gareth rolled his bottom lip inward, and cocked his head. “More like she’s his babysitter with benefits.”
Loathing the obvious sheen of sweat rushing to his face, Eddie warned him with a pointed finger. “Don’t call her that.” He swung to Dustin next. “And she is my friend, and my coworker,” he stated evenly, putting emphasis on the last word.
Being the voice of reason in these situations, but not entirely on his side, Lloyd told the younger members, “Around the time they started working together, he started coming to band practice not entirely in a bad mood. A few weeks ago, he was even smiling. Apparently they had this little Christmas party, and there was mistletoe–”
“Shut it!”
“You kissed her?” Lucas gasped.
Gareth was the one to knock the gossipy housewife wind from his sails. “No,” he scoffed with a laugh. “He was too much of a pussy.”
Several of the guys snickered, and one said, “So no benefits, then.”
Reining in his volume, Eddie warned them again in a low tone, “I’m well within my right to not want to make things weird between us if it doesn’t work out. I have to see her every day, regardless.” It was one of his oldest excuses in the book, and to be honest with himself, he dismissed it a long time ago. He no longer feared making things awkward, or tampering with your friendship.. but he wasn’t about to explain his real insecurities to so many people at once.
No one needed to know the true reason behind why he hadn’t asked you out yet.
No one had to know why he walked away when you spoke of ‘dating’ and ‘home.’
It was to protect himself, so no one had to look at him with pity when he explained he wasn’t a good enough reason for you to stay in Hawkins past the end of summer. Instead, he defaulted, “We’re just friends.”
Erica was gentle in her approach. “If we’re all just friends here, then why don’t we get matching bracelets made by your daughter?” On instinct, he tugged his sleeve over his wrist to conceal D-A-D-D-Y. “I saw hers when she was messing with Adrienne’s hair.” She saw M-O-U-S-E. “And if you’re just friends, why doesn’t Adrie ever want to be held by us? Or hugged by us? I honestly thought she didn’t like to be coddled by anyone besides you, but then that just happened..”
The questions sank in Eddie’s stomach. It cooled the frustration from his furrowed brow, and eased the tension from around his eyes. He didn’t have a satisfactory answer for the group, but he could share something close enough to the truth, it might better help them understand his hang ups. But first, he downed the rest of his double on the rocks.
Wincing after his swallow, he set down the glass, and ran the heel of palm along the edge of the table. “I’m taking things slow,” he said, “and you all know why. Okay?” Shrugging a bit, he lifted his eyebrows and spoke again to his binders, focusing on his campaign notes rather than his friends. “I only told her everything, y’know, about what happened to me a few weeks ago, so I’m still giving it some time. And, obviously, yeah it’s a big deal having a kid, and her getting attached to someone else.”
“Aw, he’s in love,” someone said.
Exuding patience by closing his eyes, he continued, “Right, so, if you wanna tell her some less embarrassing stories about me, maybe even make me look good in front of her.. I’d really appreciate it.” He ended with a beckoning clap, as if he were striking a deal with the blisters in his life.
“Or,” Mike asserted, “I can roll to hit this ghoul, and if it succeeds, you have to ask her out tonight.” Before Eddie could respond, Mike puffed a lucky breath into his cupped hands, and bounced the dice across the grid. “Thirteen!”
“Aw, sorry, man. Doesn’t hit.”
Vitriol bit into his snark, “Oh, really? Thirteen doesn’t hit, but eight does? Give me a break.” The more his face pinched into a sour expression at Eddie’s stubborn favoritism, the more wickedness laced itself in the Dungeon Master’s smug grin.
Gareth was contributing another goading remark about breaking strict rules if they benefited Eddie’s chances for getting good pussy, but the squeal of the door knob turning interrupted him.
It was noticeably quieter when you sat down at the table, beaming at the mixed signals of people avoiding your gaze, and meeting it with the type of excessive smile you gave a stranger after you were just talking about them behind their back. “So, whose turn is it?” Jeff raised his hand sheepishly. “Oh, you guys didn’t have to wait for–for me!” You hardly got through the sentence before you were giggling into your drink.
Fear not, Gareth broke the underlying tension. “Hey, did Eddie ever tell you he used to walk out on stage with a rose in his mouth, until” –he motioned at the corner of his lips with a grimace– “he cut himself on the thorns one too many times. Ow!”
Gareth clutched at his foot, and the men shot off rapid fire communication through sharp hand gestures, and widened eyes.
Jeff played the Jaws theme.
“Is that true?” you whispered to Lucas.
Lloyd shouted, “Can we get back to the game?”
Still red in the face, Eddie turned to him with his arms extended graciously. “Yes! Thank you! Let’s get back to the game.”
Adjusting his chair under himself, Eddie the Dungeon Master sat with the distinct grace of someone who went unopposed. Wispy curls of his hair caught the wind, drifting in frazzled layers wherever they pleased. The buttons and pins on his jean vest glittered, and tinked together. His lungs expanded with a long, held breath, stretching the black hoodie over his chest. When no one challenged his unceasing eye contact, he continued, “The ghouls were nigh..”
————
The night matured.
Dustin and Lloyd championed your party to an underground cave where the source of the undead were conjured. Eddie heralded your arrival by opening the box beneath his chair, screwing together something behind his barrier of DND lore, and bringing it to his mouth.
You shouldn’t be surprised by him, yet again, but the fact he played flute was just as adorable as his playful grin straining his plush lips to the metal, and his round doe-eyes flitting to yours, and away.
The notes he played grew increasingly haunting, turning intense during the battle with the necromancer who started this all. Then, as the foe turned to dust, Eddie trilled higher, and higher notes. Sillier, and sillier as Dustin looted the robes he left behind.
Everything about Eddie’s expression was impish when the group asked if the scroll found in the pocket was written in common tongue.
“Why, as a matter of fact it is,” he said, much too cheerful, and trilled an incensing measure.
He was being a menace, and the group began to sag with dread.
Dustin’s words were laced with suspicion and regret. “What does it say?”
“Let’s see! It says..” Eddie held up a prop coil of tea-stained parchment, and cleared his throat to don a brittle old man's voice, “I was a lonely necromancer who missed my wife, children, friends, and family. I was merely resurrecting them to have companionship, and you attacked me for nought. I hope you are happy with yourselves, and can sleep at night.” He abandoned the paper to incite violence in his quick succession of notes on the flute. “The dying crops are not my fault. The soil simply has too many minerals from the estuary near Irrilis, and the quarry to the north.” Peering at the blank sheet fallen to his notebook, he faked confusion, “And it says down here, in teeny-tiny writing, ‘You should have checked the bulletin board.’”
Dustin dropped his head into his hands. “You son of a bitch.”
The rest of the quests went smoother, you supposed. After returning to Irrilis and checking the bulletin board, the party’s findings led to the library, which led to a murder, which led to a mystery, which led to finding an object which had the group gasping in surprise. Apparently, the Crimson Order’s emblem on the second dead person’s body, and bite marks on the neck had a long history within the group. The next big campaign was vampire related. You celebrated along with them, cheersing the end of your whiskey, and chasing it with some much needed water.
~~~
Raw twilight bloomed behind heavy set clouds pulling flutters of white against the black.
The night winded down with more fetch quests sending the party deeper into the woods, and to the edge of the mountains. It would take several more sessions to cover the terrain beyond, or something like that. Something, something tales of a labyrinth or some sort before the vampire castle. Your memory was a little fuzzy. Going with the flow of music, whether it was the mellow strums of Lloyd’s guitar, the muffled notes of Jeff’s keyboard, Gareth’s battle march, or the dark piece Eddie played when he introduced an object of interest; your focus muddled with the jokes, the lore, the alcohol. The whiskey burned less, and the oaky honey thrived. You surrendered to the passage of time–interrupted, briefly, when the man sat opposite you answered every one of the boy’s questions with a riddle, and his rascally cackle at their irritation stole another piece of your heart. Falling deeper, and deeper. And deeper for him.
~~~
The early witching hours feasted on the weary adults who were no longer able to pull all-nighters. The game was over for now, and the group packed their things away.
Max asked you, “Did you have fun?”
“Yes!” you blurted. “I didn’t really know what I was getting into, but the atmosphere was so cool. Eddie really knows how to put on a show, huh? And hey, finding fragments of a dragon’s egg shell in a game called Dungeons and Dragons was pretty neat.”
Her laugh brought music to her affirmation, “Yeah, he’s a pretty good DM, and we’ve been hunting the dragons for two years now. Do you think you’ll play with us next month?”
“Totally!”
“Nice.”
Lucas dragged his hand down her arm, and placed the black and neon pink windbreaker in her awaiting palm. She zipped it over her cozy college sweatshirt. They were at the back of the congestion, shuffling around the living room, straying behind the chaos of stumbling adults doubling over to laugh at their clumsiness and inability to find their shoe’s match.
While waiting, you watched several of the guys clasp Eddie’s shoulder as they passed, and placed money in his hand. Oh. Shit. Your gaze snapped to the scattered stack of pizza boxes in the kitchen, and shame licked your cheeks. It never occurred to you to pay for your share.
Quickly, you found your puffer jacket under Mike’s raincoat, and wrangled some cash from the pockets. Your stride went wobbly between the table, chairs, couch, shoes, and bumbling grownups in the cramped trailer, but you squeezed your way to him. He was beginning his goodbyes smushed against the breakfast bar, not quite able to reach the front door just yet.
“Here,” you said, shoving a crumpled $20 at his arm.
Pausing his conversation with Jeff, he twisted to see you over the curve of his shoulder, and absorbed your apologetic face before noticing the money. His lips ticced at the corners. His nostrils flared with a soft snort. Amusement crinkled at the corner of his eyes. “Not from you,” he said. “Why don’t you go check on Adrie for me?”
“Oh.” A confused, maybe disappointed ‘oh.’ “If you’re sure.”
Fighting an internal battle, you stuffed the $20 in your jeans, and held true to your frown. You were about to argue, but your brain registered what he’d asked you to do. “Adrie!” you whispered excitedly, and made finger guns towards the bedroom.
You scurried (yes, scurried) off, and left Eddie to fend for himself.
Jeff was twisting his hand around his chin in mock rumination. “She doesn’t have to pay, hmm?”
“Not my place to comment,” Gareth said, about to make a comment, “but maybe you should think about cashing in those benefits.” He paused, drunkenness slowing him into a contemplative stare. “Or at least fu–”
“Anyway!” Erica saved the situation by pushing past all of them to wrench the door open. “Well.. that sucks.”
Icy flakes floated in pendulum swings to the ground, where they stuck.
Eddie stood on his tip-toes to study the severeness over his friend’s heads. The weather appeared to be in its mild beginnings, not yet falling in a considerable sheet from the sky, but still, he was a dad, and he was prone to worrying. The party hardly finished lacing up their shoes, and he was making them promise they’d call him as soon as they got home. They’d barely walked down the steps, and he was there at the bottom, holding his arm out. “Seriously, call me as soon as you get home,” he warned each household.
And it was only once the last car’s tail lights trailed red streaks over the main road, he went inside.
The trailer wept with emptiness. Remnants of being fulfilled remained–the trash, the lingering body heat, and stuffy air–but it sighed with loneliness. The trailer was pent up. In need of decompressing after the hours of putting on a show, and in a constant state of overthinking, entertaining his friends while fighting the itch deep in his chest that said ‘I wish none of these people were here except for you.’
The trailer longed for you, searching the couch, the card table, the kitchen where the bottle of whiskey was left behind. The trailer sought you in the corners of its belly, its lungs, its head, leaving the heart for last.
Eddie pushed open the bedroom door, and you were not in his daughter's bed. He lurched further into the room. Needy for the heart. And he found it. He found his home..
A pair of adult legs stuck out from the entrance to the blanket fort.
Judging by the angle of your feet and your knee tucked into the other, you were laying on your side. The powder pink bedsheet gathered in folds around your lower thighs. Strings of Christmas lights pressed against the shelter, and the TV flicked bright colors as it played a movie on a low volume.
Daring, his fingertips encountered the coarse weave of your jeans on his way to lift the bedsheet keeping your sleeping form separated from his greedy gaze. Stealing moments where he could be learning your face, placed a precious snore away from his daughter’s, sharing the pillow with her curls and unicorn hugged to her chin. Inhaling silently, and exhaling in a quick breath, not yet catching the sound in your throat akin to a mumbly whine at the dream playing under your twitching eyelids.
The sheet draped the back of his neck.
Risking, he traced the rugged outer seam of your jeans. Starting at your printed socks, and traveling up your calf, over the rigid mountain peaks of stiff fabric creased around your knee, and discovering the squish of your leg under his prodding. His eyes were trained on your face. He slipped his palm over your upper thigh. A gentle warmth of his presence. Next, he cupped the curve of your knee, fitting it into his hand, and he continued his stroke downwards, tightening his fingers to your shin, and stopping to squeeze your ankle. You didn’t stir.
He shifted closer, widening his stand and ducking under the canopy to reach your face.
Leaning over you, he anchored his balance to your hip, relaxing his hold on the arch of bone shaped like a strung bow, and dragged his other knuckles along your cheek. Three fingers worth. Three opportunities for him to press his skin to your hairline, and brush them along the flat plane before the adorable round apples he knew to be relaxed under the surface while you dozed.
You were soft. So unexpectedly soft.
Courageous, smooth peach fuzz welcomed a fourth knuckle. A simple sweep of the back of his hand to your face. Feeling you. All of you. Insatiable.
His breathing grew heavier at the hunger.
Stomach clenching from the craving of more.
Heart, starved.
It was animalistic, but you weren’t afraid. No, you weren’t afraid when you twitched and slapped at your cheek, expecting a fly to be tickling you in your sleep, but as you awoke, you prodded at the confusing obstruction, and glided your fingers along the underside of his. Plump ridges punctuated by hard calluses with scratchy outlines. You recognized them by touch alone, and fought through the pain of your bloodshot eyes to peer up at the man looming above you, and yawned.
“No boys allowed,” you whispered through the groggy haze.
Oh, he nearly let his tipsy tongue admit too much to your dopey grin.
Eddie could tell he was smiling hard enough his vision suffered from his encroaching cheeks. His eyes were inundated by his happiness, nearly closed to slits from how hard he beamed when he slid from gaze from you, to his daughter who enacted the ‘No Boys’ rule, and to you again. “C’mon, sweetheart,” he said, withdrawing.
He helped you stand. With difficulty. The whiskey hurled you into a premature REM cycle, and without consideration, he roused you from its depths. In your drowsy state, you clung to him for stability, depending on his chest to support you. Not that he was complaining. He was reliable, compensating for your swaying by grasping your upper arms, and teasing you with a, “Whoa there, silly.”
Stood outside the closed bedroom, there was not a chance for gaps to stop your lower inhibitions. Alone, you were together. In the same hallway where there was a thrifted painting of a lake scene hung beside the bathroom, a shelf with a set of wooden ducks amongst the ceramic knick knacks, a doorway where he ate his oatmeal while watching you and Adrie play. Those points of interest were all there; you were familiar with them, even if you struggled to open your eyes.
You fawned over him, snickering at nothing until your features tensed into confusion, not understanding the bits of ice clinging to the fibers of his hoodie, scraping at them with your fingernail. You collapsed into him more, leaning your forearms on his steady frame, rising and falling, accepting the lullaby of his pleased hum. The very outline of your torso discovered his, giving him a taste of your warmth; comforting you both with the actuality of such a thing. You skimmed your fingers up to his hair, picking at the sloshy liquid burdening the ends of his curls. “Why’re you wet?” you mumbled.
“It’s snowing,” he repeated from earlier, when the rush of standing whooshed in your ears, rendering him an otherworldly voice from beyond. “It’s not bad, but like hell I’m about to let you bike home in it. If you wanna give me some time to eat and have a cup of coffee, I can sober up and drive you, sweet girl,” he finished like hot honey.
You circled your palms over his pecs with the lack of awareness a blissfully buzzed person would for the lone reason of wanting to experience the texture of his hoodie burn your skin from the friction. “But wouldn’t you have to wake Adrie up to bring her with us?”
“I would, but she’ll be fine. She’ll probably fall asleep in the car.”
“No, no, no,” you shushed him, losing your merry smile for the first time in hours. “Robin’s working very, very, very late tonight. She’ll probably be off her shift soon. She can pick me up. And my bike can fit in her trunk, unlike your tiny car.” Many of your words mushed together from your drowsy, drowsy, drowsy imploring.
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah! I’ll call her, and hey, we can clean up while she’s on her way.” When his expression was less than enthused at the suggestion, you waggled your eyebrows, and bit your bottom lip, enticing him. “We can make it fun,” you tried. “You know, we’ll play music, drink some more, eat whatever pizza’s left.” You walked your fingers up his shoulders, and he smoothed his hands around your wrists, flattening your palms to his clavicle.
Eddie lowered his head until he managed to peer at you through his lashes, asking a condescending, but lighthearted question, “That’s what you wanna do? Help me clean?”
You reaffirmed, “It’ll be fun.”
“Fine by me, sweetheart. Go call Buckley.”
The plans were put on pause while you called the back office of the grocery store, but after a short conversation, and many twirls of the cord around your finger, your voice lightened with relief, “Thank you so, so much. I love you.”
You hung up, and spun around to tell Eddie the fabulous news.
The two glass tumblers on the kitchen counter were assuming. Filled with ice cubes from the blue plastic tray in the sink, and situated in front of the opened whiskey. There was a decent amount left–a fourth of the entire bottle, probably–and he didn’t need to hear you repeat Robin’s message about her getting off work soon to unscrew the cap and begin pouring.
No distinct emotion crossed his face when divided an even shot into each of the smokey gray glasses, and paused the bottle above yours to ask, “So, what kind of drunk are you?”
The ice cracked and popped as it melted.
“Giggly, touchy,” you supposed.
He tipped the bottle and added another healthy shot to yours. You raised your eyebrows at his boldness, and scoffed out the same question, “What kind of drunk are you?”
“Hm.” He propped his hand on the counter, and cocked his hip out, staring out into the living room. You studied his side profile from where you stayed by the telephone, most notably how his light wash jeans gathered around the bulk of his zipper again; hoodie tucked behind the handcuff belt buckle. The weathered silver metal glinted an edge of orange from the lamp beside the microwave, shifting as he rocked his weight to his other foot. “Stupid, I think,” he said finally. “I make stupid decisions, ‘nd shit.”
“Are you trying to make stupid decisions tonight?”
His features kicked up, and instead of giving you a verbal answer, he brought the bottle up and dropped his head back.
“Eddie!” you gawked.
Your mouth hung open in awe, stunned into silently watching the bubbles race to the top of the amber liquid chugging ever closer to the neck of the bottle being strangled in his white-knuckled grip. His eyes were screwed shut, body tensed and struggling to finish it off, lips pursed in a kiss around the opening. Each gulp sent his Adam’s apple jumping.
He threw his head forward. The bottle slammed on the counter, final sips of liquid sloshing in waves along the bottom. He caught the dribble falling from his chin with his sleeve, and wiped the back of his hand over his mouth. All of him shuddered. Teeth bared as he grimaced through the burn, eyebrows furrowed in mild regret.
After the last jerk of shoulders battling the aftershocks of disgust, you mimicked his parental exasperation, “What in the world are you doing?”
Making a stupid decision.
A tight line of water flooded his eyes. He ran his fingers over his shy smile, turning to look at you with a particular brand of sheepishness usually reserved for teenagers who were trying to impress their friends. “I only had two drinks the entire night. I’m just catching up to you.”
“You’re an idiot.”
He agreed.
“Bobbie’s still gonna be a while,” you said on your way to grabbing your drink, now wondering if you were going to be the more sober one in half an hour. “Shall we get to cleaning?”
He lifted his tumbler by picking it up by the rim and clinked it to yours, but refrained from taking a sip when you did. Thankfully. “Wayne’s got some jazz records in the crate next to the record player, where the TV is.. Well, where the TV was. On that cabinet beside his bed.. If you’d just.. Look over there.. Okay, why are you staring at me?”
Memorizing the freckle of the side of his nose to your heart’s content, you shrugged. “You blush a lot.”
“Do not,” he denied in a mutter. He felt his cheek, poking and prodding and smashing at the skin being tugged down by his pouty frown. “It’s just the alcohol.”
“Ah.”
You sipped, swallowed, and snickered on your way to the record player cabinet, weaving through the staggered chairs untucked from the table. You laughed again. Just the alcohol, he said. Yet, he’d been flushed red all night. Or, at least, since he bragged about his seven inches.
~~~
The soundtrack for cleaning was a 25th Anniversary edition of a label’s best live performances over the years.
Various artists scored the yucky business of folding and stacking the chairs against a spare wall, trying not to envision a spider popping out at any moment from where it may be laying in wait under the seats. A fun upbeat tambourine number played when Eddie knocked over Wayne’s beard trimmer in the bathroom. Wondrous vocals warbled against your game of wadding up the used napkins and tossing them at the trashcan, while Eddie flung the paper plates like frisbees until both of you tired, and threw them away as normal. Brass horns vibrated under your hands and knees as you crawled around on the floor, finding all the crushed beer cans. Lazy drum beats coaxed both of your languid movements into the sort of drunken erraticism that came from being buzzed, gesturing without much consideration for sharp corners, or breakable things. He packed away his miniatures while you wiped down the counters, and he washed the dishes while you attempted to sweep up crumbs from the grid table cloth and fold it into a neat-ish square.
The record stopped.
A break ensued. You drank the rest of your whiskey, and Eddie searched every pizza box, divvying out the last slices for you to share over wordless respite, heads drooping, chewing slowly.
After washing the greasy cornmeal from his hands, and wiping the flour from around his mouth, he suggested, “Why don’t you put on the yellow record? Third from the end, on the left.”
You found the one he spoke of–golden yellow–and put the needle to it.
Together, you hauled out the dense vintage couch the few inches it required; done in dozens of centimeters, yanking on the ugly upholstery until your fingernails ached, and arms gave up. Eddie was rushing you, annoyingly so. Hurrying on in anguish, the table was flipped on its side, and its legs folded in. It was stuffed against the wall after some difficulty (the mugs remained intact), and after shoving the hulking piece of furniture to close the gap, you fell to the lumpy cushions with an exhausted groan.
You went boneless. Arms and legs landing wherever. Head lulling to the side. Eyes closed. Relaxed. Drifting off to the place where you were in the blanket fort at an alarming rate..
The song switched.
“May I have this dance?”
You opened your eyes.
Eddie’s hand came into focus. He was bent at the waist, extending an invitation. Reciprocating. Making true on his promise for the dance he owed you. It seemed so long ago; back when you knew him as a single dad who was private about his personal life. Now you knew. You knew his home, his past, his trauma, his notebook, his friends, his band, his daughter’s favorite stuffed toy named Fluff. You knew his pizza order (cheese with black olives), his favorite color (deep, sultry red), his laundry detergent (Cheer Free for extra sensitive skin). You knew his body temperature ran like a furnace, you knew the knot of pink scar tissue on the meat of his thumb, you knew the shimmery flecks of butterscotch in his eyes when he went teary. In the span of a few days, you knew him better than you did weeks ago, before Christmas.
You took his hand. He helped you stand, and in a brave exhale, he held you in timeless elegance.
It wasn’t like the dance before, where you minded the respectable distance two coworkers should. No. He still clasped your right hand in his left, sure, but from there the similarities to waltzing in the garage differed. Reservation did not stop at the top of his neck, or his bicep–you switched your friendly clasp from those safe areas, to introducing your torsos, and pinning his arm under yours in effort to reach the middle of his back. He enveloped your waist, coaxing your hips together with woozy enthusiasm. Close, close, close. Handcuff belt buckle catching on your jean’s zipper at each pass until you began to sway in aching unison to Frank Sinatra’s Somethin’ Stupid.
You empathized with the heady flush pinkening the bulbous tip of his nose, and gazed into his eyes. Or tried. His eyelids fell in sluggish blinks, and his envious lashes refused to part. The sway was a shuffle. Your head was swimming. Failing to focus on one particular thing before your vision went cross, and the room spun, despite standing almost still.
It didn’t take long for either of you to surrender.
Rocking side to side–no turning, no pivoting–you accepted the innate desire to rest your head on his chest, and even from a distance, his pulse beat against your ear. Hard pumps of lifeblood under your cheek laid flat on the faded black hoodie. If you looked the other way, you’d see the jean vest reeking of cigarette smoke thrown on the couch where he discarded it before asking you to dance, but you chose to admire your joined hands. Preferring to learn the dry skin where a scrape was healing on his thumb knuckle–how small your thumb was in comparison to the single stretch of bone until the next joint, and his blunt nail. Maybe he was admiring such a thing too, because he stretched his fingers and curled them snugger to yours, and he set his chin atop your head, learning another new intimacy.
You melted under the burden of his weight.
He exposed the issue of your hair catching on the stubble of his five o’clock shadow.
You craned your head against the grain, and he nuzzled his chin harder.
Two people discovering their deprived yearns.
The sweetness of being crooked into the hollow of his body. The possession of snagging a full grip of his hoodie between your fingers, and becoming the reason he filled his lungs. Existing around him. And he existed in you, in all the unexplored corners, and you dusted the cobwebs from his. Fulfilling the dark places. Giving them light, and acceptance. Sharing the slice of night before it turned day. Swaying, rocking, swimming together in an inebriated dance under a tin roof, under the sprinkling snow, under the opaque clouds, under the crescent moon, under the twinkling stars. Under the universes, and hypothetical alternate dimensions and timelines, and as attractive as they seemed, you wouldn’t choose a different one. This is the one. This is the exact dimension, the exact timeline you wanted.
No longer wishing to lead, Eddie closed your fingers into a soft fist, and placed your hand over his heart, cupping his palm over it and stressing the thousands of unspoken words in his squeeze.
Basking in the minutes stretching to hours, the music looped into a perfect eternity.
It was getting late, almost time to leave, you guessed.
You withdrew your head. Eddie lifted his. The spot his chin once resided on your scalp ran abnormally cold from the loss, and there must’ve been an imprint of wrinkled fabric on your cheek, because that’s where his eyes landed first on their journey to meet your resilient gaze.
The beginnings of his lopsided grin emerged.
He spoke, and it was a single word. “Yeah.”
You didn’t know why he said it, or what he meant, but in this moment, in his arms, with your hand nestled between his and his heart, you agreed, “Yeah.” This was special. Whatever this was, this was special.
A huff of laughter broke through your smile, and his. Giggly silliness.
You were embraced from the top of your thighs, through to the slight proposal of your hips, and ending at the acute strength of your arms pressing each other closer.
Eddie raised your hand from his heart to his face. His thumb ensured your fingers stayed curled in, barring you from investing in a full, unadulterated touch. Wisps of his hair traced your skin. His exhale snaked down your flannel sleeve. Your inner wrist stopped at the slick junction of his lips, where he had swiped his tongue over out of nervous habit.
Oddly, he tapped your hand a few times to his cheek.
It made you curious. You copied him, bringing his hand to your face. Hooked your thumb under his sleeve to expose his wrist, and tapped it to your cheek. Ah, you understood.
Such delicate, unscarred skin brushed against the ridges of your lips, each tap like a kiss along the edge of your lovesick simper. Closer to a kiss than anything you’d experienced with him before. Still so tender, and so pure.
“Yeah?” A raw tremble was present in your question; gone shy from the profoundness of the single word, and fearing you were attributing the wrong meaning behind something so little, yet so large in your relationship.
But he saw the doubt, and he reassured you, “Yeah.” By the wetness glossing over his eyes, he reassured you your assumptions weren’t wrong. He whispered it again, softer, to where the one syllable croaked out, “Yeah.”
This was special.
The alcohol sat like candor on your tongue. “Wanna know a secret?” you teased as you let go of his wrist, and guided your hands up to his nape, linking your fingers over the bulky hood prohibiting you from playing with the sensitive hairs on the back of his neck. He slung his arm around your waist, over top of the other, encompassing you in a true hug.
He squinted at you. “How drunk are you? Don’t go tellin’ me somethin’ you’ll regret in the morning.”
“It’s nothing like that, I swear.” There was a flirty whine to your pitch, and even flirtier breathiness to your voice. Encouraging him to maintain the sway, leading him side to side, foot to foot, taking advantage of flow to put an arch in your back, and rise onto the balls of your feet, undetected. Your heart skipped at the proximity. “You know how I said my top three favorite people were Robin, Adrie, and then you?” you reminded him. “That’s actually backwards.. I said it backwards. It’s actually you, Adrie, and then Robin. But don’t tell her that.”
His mouth hung open to respond, but his gaze was off, discerning something behind you in the distance. When he centered on you again, there was a new kindness to the wrinkles framing his handsome face. “Are you okay with sharing my number one spot?”
“I would be honored.”
“Good,” he emphasized, “I’d be heartbroken if you didn’t want to be my favorite.”
“I always want to be your favorite,” you preened.
The innocence slipped from his expression. He’d never heard you sound quite so needy, or eager to be something of his, and the effects were sudden and poorly timed.
Outside, rocks skidded on the cracked pavement. A car turning in from the main road sunk into a pothole, and bounced out. The music spinning on the record player crescendoed. The fluorescent bulbs in the lamps hummed with electricity. Scents of acidic tomato sauce and oregano were inescapable. Tiny pellets of hail pinged on the tin roof. You both looked up, listening to it pass after a drifty-cloud moment.
Eddie concentrated on keeping your chests together. His forearms dug into your waist as he found the best way to lock his grip. He dipped his head lower when you had no choice but to lean up, and into him. “If I give you my number, will you call me when you get home, so I know you made it safe?”
Every consonant and vowel vibrated in your skull, thrumming velvety richness through the daze.
“I already have your number,” you said amongst the warmth building, and building behind your rib cage.
He faltered, confused. “You have my number?”
“Mhm, an even bigger birdie told me.”
Both bewildered by the callback, and having a tendency to fall head over heels for anything and everything you did, regardless if it was an unsatisfying answer or not, Eddie snorted, and scrunched his face, observing you with all the judgment you earned. “That’s either really creepy, or really endearing.”
You dropped your gaze to his crooked smile, and the car approaching the blue and white trailer faded away.
His lips were gorgeous. Overly full, and a wonderful shade of fleshy red with a tint of pink. They were bitten. Chewed on when his nerves got the best of him. Behind them, the edges of his teeth showed. Above them, you put your energy into obsessing over his overly large nose, as you had in many instances, but never at this distance, able to see every pore, every freckle, every splotch, and realizing this could become a normal occurrence, being this close.
His eyes were overly large as well, and they followed each micro-tic of yours.
“Good thing you find me endearing, then,” you provoked.
He loved that response.
“I do,” he chased. “I do,” he gave in. The willpower to resist his urges crumbled at the admission. He pressed his forehead to yours, and conceded until his mouth ached with happiness, “I find you so endearing.”
The alcohol dulled the intimate gesture. The top layers of your skin were numb. You had to work harder to feed the starvation; grinding your forehead against his, digging deeper to feel the itch of his bangs stuck to the glisten of boozy sweat. Sliding your nose alongside his, smashing the tips to each other’s cheeks. Sharing the same breaths, panting feathery sighs into each other’s mouths. Then, another carnal bump of noses, clumsy and misaligned, and a hard rut bone on bone until your bodies tingled with satisfaction. Satiated. Full.
Eddie turned his groan into a ragged, “I fucking adore you.”
“I adore you, too,” you promised, on the verge of crying and not knowing why.
He pulled away, dragging the tip of his nose up the side of yours, and tracing it down, allowing them to stay connected for a moment longer. A cooldown while your stomach flipped, and your pulse raced. I adore you.
The whole thing was strange to do with your coworker, especially with your hands remaining latched where they were, and there was no grinding elsewhere; it was just sheer lust for touch. Mutual, too.
His overly large pupils bored into yours. Neither of you had appropriate commentary on what transpired, probably for the better.
A car engine rumbled outside.
“Yeah, I’m pretty toasted, I think,” you said.
He pinched his eyebrows in, and pursed his lips. “Think I am, too.”
Either way, it was a good excuse for you almost moaning his name, and him choosing to hinge his phrase on adore, as if the endearment couldn’t be swapped out, and suddenly, the entire sentiment would have changed. It would be a confession.
There was a knock on the door, and Robin’s voice came muffled, but the urgency of being stuck out in the cold was conveyed.
Both of you hastened separating yourselves, and fumbled around each other.
Always, Eddie was a gentleman and helped you put on your jacket after you argued he was way more plastered than you were, despite you being the one doubled over with your hands on your knees, wobbling, disoriented after reaching down for it. He made sure you were dressed before going outside. Zipped you all the way to your chin, even when you complained it looked dorky. He lined your shoes up for you, and waited for you with his eyes closed, drifting off to a dream while standing up.
He handed you off to Robin, and loaded her trunk with your bike. For whatever reason, you didn’t climb inside the car yet. You waited in the snow for him. Collecting glittery flakes on your eyelashes, inhaling the fresh, crisp air. Probably quelling the nausea, same as he was, taking gulps of oxygen while he blinked, and blinked, searching the swirling images for something his brain could comprehend to get it to stop.
You waited for him, never saying anything. In heavy steps, he came to you, and wedged his fingers under the door handle, popping open the latch with an expression of wryness, as if you expected him to open every door for you.
Which, he would, for the record.
Stopping you before you sat, he grabbed at your jacket and bent himself to you, no longer afraid to press the cold tip of his nose to the shell of your ear, and drag his lips over the peach fuzz as he spoke directly to you. “Call me,” he stressed against your shiver.
“I will.”
At that, he shut your door and Robin began backing out of his driveway, stunting his wave goodbye from the headlights blinding him. He moved to the stairs, then to the top of the landing to watch the car drive around the soft bend around the trailers, and out onto the highway, leaving him behind.
He entered the trailer, and it was full.
It felt full, anyway. In his stomach, his chest, behind his eyelids, in the dusty corners, in the mortal hollows, manifesting a tightness in his throat, and a contradictory heaviness to his weightlessness, floating on clouds after spending an entire day with his crush and ending it with I adore you.
Eddie brushed his hair back, neatening the tangles wetted by ice. He combed his bangs off his forehead, and drove his fingers against his scalp, leaving his hands on top of his head, stripping himself of the extra stimulation to hone in on the persistent throb between his brows where you staked your claim.
You had made your home there, and he couldn’t wait for your return.
“Jesus Christ.”
With his woolgathering out of the way, he went to where Adrie was half-asleep in the doorway to her bedroom, and he crouched onto his knees. “Were you watching us dance?”
Wrapped in a blanket and sitting slumped over, she nodded against the wood frame, and sucked in the drool threatening to spill over her bottom lip. Only having the energy to open her eyes a smidge, she still found it within herself to have gripes with him. “You didn’t let me say bye.”
“I’m sorry,” he pouted in a silly deep voice.
Stooping further, he worked his arm under her legs, and collected the sleepy bundle that was his daughter to his chest. He shuffled along on his knees over to the fort, and man, did he understand why you fell asleep so easily in the blanket nest. Just the accidental touches when he set Adrie down called to him, as did the bleating sheep hopping over fences in his head. It was enticing.. but the phone was ringing, and the first check in of the night as calling.
He knew it wasn’t you, but his heart leapt all the same.
“Sorry the phone might ring a lot,” he said. “Do you want another movie on? I’ll put another move on so it doesn’t wake you, okay?”
She scrunched her nose in a bad way, not like he did when he was laughing. Probably from the alcohol on his breath, and his waning coherency.
He stowed away his kisses for now. “Sorry you didn’t get to say goodbye, but I promise you, I promise you, okay? Miss Mouse will be back soon.” That was the heaviness in his chest. The decision. “I’ll invite her over, and we can all play together, okay?”
“Okay, Daddy,” she mumbled, loosening her grasp on his hair.
She was out, and he paced the kitchen while he chatted to stay awake.
————
Eddie sat at the small green table with his head resting back against the peeling wallpaper. A single light above the wrap-around counter skimmed the belly of the trailer. It traced the bubbles slipping down the bottle in front of him, and glanced the top of his pillow on the couch, submitting to the darkness past his plaid blanket waiting for him. The phone cord draped over his shoulder, down to his chest. The last call was half an hour ago. Maybe? He knew his last swig of whiskey was seconds ago. Everyone had checked in, and his ability to show an ounce of self-control was forfeited to the sheep. In his final blink, his body went lax, and he passed out.
Though, he could always count on the clangy ring to cut through their bleats.
Jolting awake, he searched above him for the phone, knocking it off the hook before it disturbed Adrie.
He was disoriented.
“Hello?”
Quiet as a mouse, a voice came, “Hey.”
He sat up. Alertness spread through him in waves, rippling from the decision sitting hot on his tongue, and stirring deeper, lower. Your greeting was filtered by the tiny microphone caged in yellowed plastic, but the dozy, sweltering rasp was there. “Hey, sweetheart,” he answered in kind, and inhaled deeply before the blood loss in his brain rendered him lightheaded.
One word in and he was wiping his palm on his jeans, and keeping it there, on his thigh.
“Sorry it took me so long,” you apologized in a whisper. “I wanted to wait until everyone went to sleep. I’m in the living room. In the dark.” You giggled as if it were a joke he should be in on.
He peeked behind him to make sure the bedroom door was shut, and wrenched the phone against his lips to stifle his own laughter. “Yeah? I’m sitting in the dark, too.”
You hummed.
He didn’t know if you were making a pass at him by mentioning you were alone as he was, so he chose something innocuous to comment on, bouncing the ball in your court. “You sound tired, baby. You should go to bed.”
“But my bed’s cold,” you whined.
Bingo.
Risks were worth taking as long as you participated.
In a matter of quick exchanges, he had his palm between his thighs, running his fingernails down the coarse fabric of his jeans and cupping the heft. “My bed’s cold too,” he matched your pitch, exploring his thumb upwards.
“If you were here, mine wouldn’t have to be..”
“But you live in someone else’s parent’s attic,” he teased.
“And your bed’s a couch,” you shot back.
He checked the closed door behind him one more time, and yielded, “You’re right.” You liked being right. He liked it when you were right. Your grin tinted all your pretty words when you were right. Well, they would, if you were speaking. “Babe?”
“Sorry, that was quick,” you said, struggling through a yawn after nodding off. “I’m laying on the recliner, and it’s really comfy.”
“Then go to sleep,” he implored in a chastising snicker.
You grunted.
Except, it didn’t sound like the other grunts and groans he’d heard you make over the months. This one was sweeter, higher, similar to the airy catch in your throat when your bottom lip dragged on his stubble. A moan of his name, he hoped. He twitched against the warmth of his palm. Growing rapidly under the first strokes of his thumb encouraging his descent, half-hard just at the thought.
How much whiskey he had was of no concern when it came to you. Clearly.
He couldn’t stop his appetite from lowering his voice, “Whatcha doin’, sweet girl?”
You turned it back on him, “What are you doing?” And when he was busy rearranging how he sat to give his jeans some slack to wrap his thick fingers around himself, you mused with an evident smirk, “Touching your orc dagger?”
Goddamnit. “If you ever bring that up again, I swear..”
“You must be, with how you’re avoiding the question.” You muffled your giggle–probably with your shirt collar, if he had to guess. Teasing him more, you slurred, “S’okay. I saw how hard you were staring at my shirt earlier. Just thought you’d like to know I’m not wearing it anymore. Not wearing a bra either.”
You’re right. He did like knowing that. So much, in fact, he smoothed his fingers in a long tug along his length, stroking twice over the sensitive head, and repeating.
“Not wearing anything?” he asked, sounding a bit more husky than he intended.
“Just the flannel. Gotta be a little dressed.. in case someone comes in.” You shifted in the middle of your sentence, and at first Eddie pictured you turning onto your back. Imagining your tits shifting against the flannel, and their subtle bounce as you got comfortable. How hard your nipples pressed to the fabric, and what they must feel like being licked and sucked into his mouth, and all the beautiful noises you’d make for him. Unfortunately..
“Touchin’ yourself for me, sweetheart?” Nothing.. “Sweetheart?” Oh.. “You fall asleep again?”
An actual grunt, maybe a hiccup, or a snore created static on the other end of the line. “I’m sorry,” you sincerely apologized.
Poor sweet thing. “Tell you what,” he reasoned. “Why don’t you go to bed, and think about how nice it’d be for me to be there with you; how warm I am. And I’ll take a shower, and do the same.”
You asked, “You mean you’re gonna think about me while in the shower?”
He squeezed himself. “Yes,” he answered truthfully. There was no fucking way either of you’d remember this by Monday morning. It was kinda thrilling; obeying the allure, and teasing each other without consequence.
“Nice.”
“Mhmm.”
Eddie closed his eyes in the following silence. The fantasy drifted to something tender. Sharing a bed. Waking up next to you. The alcohol made it difficult to remember why you called, and fathom why he was holding a conversation. His own hand went slack around the part his heart pumped blood to. The urge passed. The desire to brush his teeth replaced the lust. He was drunk, and he was losing the battle to remain conscious.
His body slouched ever forward.
“Eddie?”
“Hmm?”
“I can’t stay awake.”
“Neither can I..” Not that it mattered, but before the conversation ended and he summoned the strength to collapse on the couch instead of the green table for the sole reason of never wanting his daughter to discover him passed out in the kitchen from drinking too much, he heeded the heaviness in his chest. The decision. And he told you, “By the way, I thought of what to do for that ‘thank you’ I owe you. It’s time I pay you back for everything you’ve done for me.”
Processing his words at a slower rate, a few moments ticked by before the intrigue ate at you. “And what’s that, handsome?”
He smiled. “It’s a surprise.”
You snorted. “It’ll be a surprise if either of us remember anything after I failed nine rolls in a row, and you chugged.. Fuck, however much whiskey you’ve had. I don’t even wanna know.”
In a night of stupid decisions, he committed to one more; the joke was too good to not tumble past his loose lips, “Not enough to stop my orc dagger from growing seven inches.”
“Jesus fucking Christ, that was awful. I’m never calling you again. Goodbye.”
The speed at which you hung up sent him doubled over, clutching his aching stomach. He tried to keep quiet, really. He held onto his dignity just long enough to take three attempts to hang up the phone, and then it hit him with reckless abandon. He slapped his hand over his gaping mouth, and shook until the breathless gasps came out in squeaks, ugly laughing at his own stupid joke. He rocked back and forth, almost hitting his forehead on the table, and only caught his breath when tears brimmed his lashes, and he remembered his forehead was sacred, and he should stop. If he hit it, it’d be like an earthquake to your home. Except, that imagery also made him giggle, and he was at it again. Biting his tongue to subdue his outbursts while he stretched out on the couch cushions which rubbed his skin raw everytime he changed position. Finally, he was at peace. He tried to forget about the impending hangover he was going to have to explain to Wayne, and instead, he thought about you, and let his daydream take him to a fantasy where he could wake up next to you. And if he went through with his decision, maybe it could become a reality.
No. Not if. He would. He would go through with it. Probably. If you asked about it, he would, definitely. If you didn’t, he’d.. he’d still do it. He couldn’t keep living like this.
However, for both your sakes, he hoped neither of you remembered this night come Monday morning.
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ceruleancattail · 1 month
Text
Alright victims look. Dig out your ears and hear me out on this one.
V-tuber MC.
Look, the bills have to be paid in some way, right? A time-flexible job would be ideal, no? And if there an added layer of anonymity added to the job, won’t it be a perfect side-hustle?
Imagine streaming every week after classes, playing games or perhaps showcasing a certain talent of yours? Singing, drawing, dancing … whatever you’ve got. The list just goes on. Maybe you just sit down with your viewers, and have a light-hearted chat.
Talking about your friends and experiences seems to be well-welcomed, on your streams. Well, some of your experiences in Night Raven College are just… ridiculous. Having to run after a chaotic bunch of friends is exhausting, so at least those wacky experiences turn into good stories for the internet.
Everything is kept anonymous, of course. People get nicknames to cover their identities, and people think all of these tales come from you playing as the character they portray.
Now imagine Idia just stumbling across your streaming account. Perhaps he was bored, one day after class… and lo and behold, you were streaming right after class as well. Streaming some… story based game.
At first he joined just to have some background noise while he gamed. Idia told himself he’ll just lurk, maybe judge your gameplay for a bit. Yet he found himself clinging on to your every word, focusing more on your laughter then the controls of the console in his hand.
He ended up losing every match he played that day, but your follower count steadily went up by one.
Idia soon found himself tuning in more and more, looking forward to the days you were free to stream. They miraculously mirrored his quite closely, what a wonderful coincidence! He was still very much a lurker, but occasionally his trembling fingers will type out a word of encouragement or two, in the chat.
He likes the way you say his username, the way you read out every letter he typed. You remember him, oddly enough. Aways perking up whenever his username flashes across the screen, grinning away like an idiot.
Idia can’t say he doesn’t like it, though.
He keeps a keychain of you on his bag. A subtle design, never your model outright. Maybe it’s a small plushie of your fan mascot, or the logo of your avatar. Either way, he takes it with him everywhere, thumb stroking it whenever Idia’s thoughts wander.
Wonder what happens when one day, he stumbles across you in the hallway. Bags stuck together because your keychains tangled, and he saw you had the exact same one? The moment you open your mouth, apologising profusely… Idia knows. You’re the streamer he’s been faithfully watching ever since that day.
Oh no, he’ll never dox you outright. Idia knows all too well how badly parasocial relationships tend to go, and he would never want to scare you off. Somehow, one way or another, you end up sharing a class with Idia.
Now, he was fully planning to hide in the corner throughout the lesson… but you sat in front of him. Slipping your phone out of your pocket, before booting up… a game. He’ll never normally make the first move, but the moment he saw his favourite game pop up on your screen, a hesitant sentence slipped right off his tongue.
“I play that game too.”
Beaming at him, you spin around. Clutching your phone in your hands, excited to find another game enjoyer in the same class. You asked some friendly questions about what character he played, how far along the quests was he, and other gameplay related questions.
Idia had fun, discussing the game with you. Talking all the way until the teacher walked in and gave both of you a nasty glare. You slid right back around, but not before scribbling something quick onto Idia’s palm.
You wink at him, before folding up his fingers into a fist. Once your back was turned, Idia couldn’t help unclenching it to take a peek.
Your friend ID code, scribbled out in your favourite colour on his hand. Ending with a cute little heart. Great Seven, you were adorable.
Guess he’ll have to actually be serious about this game, for once.
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diejager · 24 days
Note
Imagine that the hybrid 141 was getting a teammate and that teammate was a hybrid and Laswell wanted it to be a surprise for the team what they are as in hybrid was and soon as they get off the aircraft and onto the tarmac, the boys realize that they’re with another dragon hybrid and her “heat” would be soon upon her (dark blue in to black better for stealth or, whatever you prefer, she also has her wings) how would the boys handle that you can take the story anyway you want 
This… I might make it self-indulging because this idea has been clawing at the back of my mind for a long while. Cw: mating/heat cycle, fire/water magic, tell me if I missed any.
Laswell had Price wait for the surprise she had planned, the secret she kept from them when they received your file. It had all he asked for in attributes and skills, but all things personal that should have been on it were scratched out in black. He was told that it was a need to know basis, your name, age or species wouldn’t be divulged unless you told them yourself. He knew you from words from mouth to ear, ad read of your skill and efficiently but nothing he heard and found told him an ounce about you as a person. Your character was a mystery he died to know.
So when he got word from Laswell that your ETA was just over half an hour, he had the boys reconvene to the airstrip, watching the aircraft carrying you land not too far from them, the rotors slowing to a steady thrum. The anticipation that bubble din his chest made this moment crawl at a snail’s pace, the ramp lowering too slowly for his liking and the droning sound of the aircraft’s irking his ears. Then, seconds after the ramp fully dropped, he caught sight of blue horns, tines growing from a singular robust beam, segmented like those of a scale. Your head, covered by a custom made helmet to let your antlers peek out and sit comfortably on your head (at least you wore something, unlike his constant frustration with finding one that wouldn’t bother his horns), followed after you walked out, decked in your gear and a bag slung over your shoulders. 
You weren’t what he was expecting, not exactly. He read that you had a masterful experience in hydromancy, stealing water from the air and humidity and contorting it to cause havoc in the field and cutting through the enemy. He and the others shared their theories, one possibility made you into a water witch, a leviathan, or one of those creepy monsters from the deep sea. Not what… whatever you were. You had elk-like horns painted in the deepest blue he’d ever seen and a tail covered in scales of the same shade, glistening under the light like it was wet with tufts of hair - or was it fur? - crawling down the base of your fourth limb to create a silky and soft end with long, slowing locks. 
What were you? What was that smell? It got sweeter the closer you got, a softness that clung to his nose and made him salivate. He wondered how strong it must be for the Soap and König who’s noses were more enhanced and sensitive than any others, they’d probably sniff the source - you - out and answer his undying question.
“Captain Price,” you nodded your head, a small smile gracing your lips, your slitted eyes narrowed in greeting, “Hope I didn’t make you wait too long.”
That sweetness lingered around you and stuck to his hand when you shook hands, giving him a firm shake and stronger grip that he could admire for the strength you showed. Had you face been as bright as it was a few seconds before? Perhaps it was the musk that oozed off you, it was uneasily addicting and pleasing to his lizard brain, slowly moving the cogs of hos old machine. He watched you take a step back, making some distance between his Task Force and you, and his mind got clearer, nose less stuffy and cheeks wash away the slight flush. Then it hit him, the sweetness, the dazed perception of you and the growing need in his body, he was reacting to you. 
“Sorry, I was told I’d be off for the week once I landed,” you cocked your head, sharing an apologetic smile, “My cycle follows the Lunar year.”
Ah, everything made more sense now, the gracefulness of your beautiful tail, the glistening of your scales and the sharpness of your horns. He had agreed to welcome another dragon to his Task Force, he was fortunate that Asian dragons were calmer and benevolent than his European counterpart. 
Taglist: @craxy-person @crowbird @dead-cipher @iwannabealocalcryptid @iizx7y @mxtokko @capricorn-anon @perfectus-in-morte @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @angelcakes-22 @cassiecasluciluce @ramadiiiisme @ramblingsofachaoticthinker @im-making-an-effort @love-dove-noora @jinxxangel13 @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan @mul-pi @danielle143 @beau-min @makayla-666 @urfavsunkissedleo @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @luvecarson @petwifed @randominstake @heartelysia @jggykhug09090 @cassiecasluciluce @hayleybarnesx @shironasumi @sparky--bunny @bloobewy @call-me-nyxx @sans-chara @infpt-zylith @sweetnanah @aldis-nuts @thigh-o-saur @evolutionarry @kaoyamamegami
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fairlyang · 3 months
Text
Roommate 🕷️
you get caught masturbating by your hot cocky roommate, and he helps you out
w/c: 4.3K
pairing: roommate!miguel x f!reader
tags: 18+ smut. fantasizing about him, thinking you're alone, being watched, flashbacks, he scared the living daylights out of you, secondhand embarrassment (I live for some cringe), confessions, rough, some spanish dirty talk (no Google translate but yes English translations), creampie, and passing tf out
notes: number three of my og fics from june and I don’t hate this one as much
You were a college student living in an apartment in New York with a cocky roommate because the rent would be too much for you alone. Miguel O'Hara.
You stumbled across his ad looking for a roommate who didn't have any kids, and wasn't a piece of shit who paid bills late. So you messaged him and said you were responsible with bills and didn't have any children. He messaged back within the same hour and asked when you can move in.
It was a little over a year since then and time flew fast. You almost never got to see Miguel because of school and work. You were in your junior year of college and were finally in a good working position with decent pay.
You weren't sure what kind of job Miguel has but it has to be something really frustrating because he comes home mad as shit super often. Maybe he works in construction? Not sure but he definitely has the build for it.
Now with finals week you were stressed as fuck scrambling to finish some work and any extra credit assignments to end your junior year of college well. You already had your day to day schedule set, classes between 8am-12pm and work between 2-10 occasionally 11.
Miguel's schedule on the other hand was all over the place and you never knew when you'd be seeing him, when he'd be home, and he still pays his half of the bills but what was the point if he barely stays here anyway?
You minded your business and the very rare times you end up stumbling across him you keep conversations casual not wanting to overstep or make him uncomfortable. But you still end up talking back to him playfully and he doesn't mind so that's been a good sign.
Tonight there was no sign of him, and you've been very stressed and touch starved all week long. You shut your bedroom curtains and jump onto your bed. You get comfortable and take off your pj pants but keeping your tank top on. You first start lightly rubbing your nipples, then pinching one and the other. You moan and feel them both getting hard. You squeeze your tits, closing your eyes.
You play with them imagining it's Miguel's hands on you instead of yours. "S-shit."
Your right hand trails down to your panties, you slowly rub your clit in circle subconsciously clenching your thighs from how sensitive it feels. You open your eyes and giggle. It's really been a while.
Your thoughts go back to Miguel and you've found him attractive since you stumbled upon his ad but it intensified when you moved in and he was around way more.
You were hanging in the living room reading when you hear a door slam and it startled you a bit. Then you hear a door open so you assumed Miguel just went back to his room so you kept reading.
You were sitting with your legs out on the sofa and you were facing the kitchen instead of the tv. Past the kitchen is a hallway that leads to your room, the bathroom then Miguel's at the end. You heard his footsteps moving around until you saw him walking straight into the kitchen with only a towel on his waist.
His skin was glistening, still wet. You widen your eyes and shook your head looking down at your book. But who were you kidding.... You bite your lip, looking up to look at his muscular back as he was getting something from the fridge. You look at how his shoulders move as he grabs something and your breathing becomes uneasy.
You quickly look back down at your book as he closes the fridge. We had an open bar kinda of island so you could look into the kitchen and he could look into the living room, which was what he was doing...
You felt his eyes on you so you try your best to stay calm, control your breathing and boom you're fine. Until he turns back around to get a snack from the cupboard reaching for the whatever was on the top shelf- he was already very tall so you knew he was doing for your viewing pleasure making you flush.
You roll your eyes but might as well- his biceps were huge, his shoulder blades were insane and your eyes began to feel very lustful. He puts down whatever he got and all of a sudden has to yawn and crack his back flexing everything for you to see. You felt like you were in a trance and couldn't look away until you heard him chuckle.
He starts turning around and you look down as soon as you saw him move and bite your lip. Shit shit shit. "Y'know you could take a picture if you'd like muñeca, they last longer." He says with a smirk on his face. (doll)
"I think I'll pass thanks." You say looking him in his eyes as you're scrunching your nose in fake disgust while he just smirks at you and walks away.
Your fingers were rubbing a little faster now slightly feeling your wetness over your panties. Damn.
You stop and lean over to your bedside table and grab your dildo. Might as well.
You move your panties to the side then spit on your dildo and making sure it gets everywhere. You grab it with one hand and use the other to stroke it. God why isn't this Miguel.
You lay on your stomach and close your eyes. You kiss the tip and start to slowly take it in your mouth. You moan and go lower until you feel the tip at your uvula. You pull away and moan using all your spit to stroke it again.
You move it to your bottom half and line it up to your wet pussy. "O-oh shit-" your eyes widen realizing how tight you are. Has it really been that long???
You take it out and start sucking again until you get more saliva and try to fit it inside again. The tip is barely in and you whine. You slowly fuck the tip into you until your pussy gets use to it and then it feels fine so you put it in a bit deeper and now you're halfway on your 8 inch dildo.
You moan and clench your thighs. You roll your eyes back and blink them open looking at how you fuck yourself slowly. You spread your legs with one hand between them fucking your pussy slowly when you push in further and take all of it. You whimper and shake a little. You grab a body pillow and place it on top of you, your empty hand grabbing onto it hard. You close your eyes and start to think of it being Miguel's dick inside you, teasing you not wanting to pound into you yet.
You decided to do some yoga in the living room while watching a video on the tv. You were in a sports bra and tight fitting shorts accentuating your curves, thighs, and ass. You didn't even hear him come in when you were doing the downward dog then switched to the doggy position unknowing you were being watched.
You did a straddle split and leaning forward for a solid minute when you heard a low whistle startling you. Your heart jumped out of your chest as you sit up and look behind you. "Were you... watching me?" You ask your eyebrows furrowed, confused as shit.
"Thought I could take some notes..." He says with a confident manner and gives you a wink making you roll your eyes.
"Acting as if you could do that O'Hara, no seas baboso." You chuckle and smirk. (Don't be stupid)
He has a smug grin on his face and you think of something. You go get into the extended doggy position earning a gulp and a quiet "chingada madre" from Miguel. (Mother fucker)
You try not to make any noises besides your steady breathing. You hold it for a good fifteen seconds before saying, "Take a picture it'll last longer."
"I just might..." he says sounding like he's out of breath making you smirk.
You fuck yourself faster and harder feeling your pussy starting to cream against your dildo. Your grip on the pillow was harder and needy, as if you were grabbing against Miguel's back. "F-fuck- mmmm god j-just like that" you moan out clenching against your dildo making you shake.
You stop for a second to control your breathing. You go back to it but at a slower pace, lovingly, and passionately. You fight back the urge to moan his name but couldn't resist. "Así Miguel- n-no pares—" you moan and feel yourself squirming into the mattress. (Just like that Miguel- d-don't stop—")
You move your hand a little faster and trying to hit deeper but you're feeling tired already. You whine as you hear the creaminess with every trust. My cream would look so good on his thick cock. "Miguel te necesito- fuckk- I need you- oh I need you so ba- bad-" you moan out shaking. (I need you)
You feel that familiar feeling in your stomach and you start to fuck yourself deeper and faster whining and moaning so much more. "Fuck- so g-good."
Your juices make even more noise and you start sweating so you move your pillow to the side never opening your eyes, for more immersion. Your left hand rubs your clit while your right is still going in and out of you. You suddenly feel your orgasm take over and you fuck yourself as deep as you can take it letting out the most animalistic moans and needy whines ever. "a-a- fuck- a-ay M-Miguel-! fill me s-so good p-pl- please-"
You completely stop, your whole body shaking, your mind all foggy and when you try to open your eyes they're all hazy so you just close them again. You calm your breathing and slowly take your dildo out. It plops out and sounds like it splashed out. Really sounds like you got filled.
You sigh and bring your dildo up to your lips softly kissing it. You then lick it and get a taste of your creamy pussy until you start to lick it off the whole thing. You get the taste of your pussy off your entire dildo until you find yourself sucking on it again. You take it down your throat just gagging on it until you pull it out and breathe out. All done.
You leave it on your stomach as you rub your eyes slowly a yawn coming out of your mouth. Wonder what time it is. You lean over to your bedside table putting it on a clean towel and check your phone. It's 12:58pm. Damn.
You leave your phone there, and go back to your previous position on your bed and yawn again rubbing your eyes. When you open them you scream. You sit up trying to cover yourself fast but it's too late. "M-MIGUEL??? W-WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING HERE?!?!??!?" You yell pulling your tank top down, and grabbing your pillow to cover your bottom half.
Your cheeks have never felt this hot in your life, oh GOD WHAT DID HE HEAR-
You feel sick to your stomach- he's literally just standing in the middle of the room with his eyes closed? But WHY-
Your eyes are wide, cheeks so fucking red. Oh my god he saw everything-  you gulp and reach down to quickly fix your panties and try to calm down. "So!??!??" You yell waiting for an answer.
He takes a step closer and you can finally see him clearly in the light. He was wearing a black tee with grey sweatpants making your breath hitch when you saw his stiff bulge. Once you look back at his face his eyes open and they're red.
You jump and your heart started beating fast as fuck. "Chingada madr— W- wha- who- Miguel? What the fuck-" (mother fucke-)
He walks over to the left side of the bed making you move to the other side scared shitless. He chuckles and as fast as you can blink he's on your side of the bed grabbing your hips and leading you against the wall, grinding you onto him. You whimper and try to get out of his grasp. "Don't try it doll... no need to act like you don't want me to play with you." He says using a finger to lift your chin to meet his eyes.
His red eyes filled with so much lust it scared you. Excited you even. "W-what are you-" You ask nervously biting your lip.
He chuckles again and pushes you against the wall. You gasp as his hands start to roam your body. You bite your lip as his hands caress your hips, smacks your ass, and then pulls on your hair from behind. Your head was pulled back as well and he leans in to kiss your neck. You moan and wrap your arms behind his neck twisting and pulling on pieces of hair. He groans against your skin and bites on it. You whimper and he leaves a wet kiss on it.
He pulls away but leans close to your face, "Wanna tell me what you were doing?" He leans in about to touch your quivering lips.
"I- uh I got- horny." You whisper breathing on his lips.
"Yeah? So horny you started thinking of me playing with you hmm?" Your thighs clench and you bite your lip looking up at him.
"Contéstame amor." He growls and you moan. (Answer me love)
"Mhm- it's not the first nor the last time I'll do it either." You say looking up at him with the most innocent eyes you could pull.
He groans and grinds his bulge against your stomach making your wide go wide. "Good girl...." He snarls making your thighs clench even more.
"What were you thinking of specifically right now as you came?" He asks tracing his fingers along your neck and collarbone.
"I- I- uh- mmm..."
"Answer." He growls and you nod.
He groans and quickly picks you up and holds you against the wall. "So you like being a dirty girl when I'm gone? Not even thinking I could catch you? Not bothering to think of how hard you make me...." He snarks a hand behind your neck.
This left you breathless and made you whimper more. You wrap your legs around his hips even more to have his bulge rub against your covered but drenched pussy. "I- fuck- I haven't touched myself in a week and I needed to feel something inside me- I n-never knew you thought of me that way-" you say and he growls grinding harder against you.
You both moan at the same time and he leans in millimeters from your lips. "I've been wanting to fuck you since we met." He whispers and you smash your lips together. He reciprocated and moans into your mouth.
You have one hand on his cheek and the other gripping hairs between your fingers. His were on your neck and playing with your hair. His tongue slides into your mouth and you let him. His tongue was exploring your mouth and you couldn't even believe this was happening. You tug on his shirt to take it off and he pulls away for literally a second somehow taking it off and his lips were back on yours. "Tan hermosa...." (So beautiful)
You moan and he grinds harder against you. He groans against your mouth and you feel him grab your tank top. Then you hear the sound of fabric ripping and in two seconds its gone. "I'll get you a new one." He mutters when you stopped kissing back to say something.
"So how long were you watching me for? you perv..." You ask pulling away finally getting your hands on his broad shoulders and big biceps.
"As soon as you started fucking yourself. God I heard your moans and couldn't help myself coming in to watch- mm I needed to finally have you for myself." He answers and leaves another mark on your neck but going towards your chest.
"You can have all of me." You whisper making him squeeze your tits roughly and suck on your nipple so roughly.
You gasp and he carries you to the bed. He puts you down towards the middle and he gets on top of you kissing you desperately. Your hands are all over each other and the kiss get more and more heated, needy, and hot. He pulls away and leaves trails of kisses on your jaw, when he leaves a couple marks on your neck. "Fuck-"
He kisses them after leaving marks and goes down to suck on your nipples again while his hand goes down to rub you over your panties. "Mmm- fuck- así M-Miguel." You moan out and feel yourself shake a bit.
He runs your clit a little faster but it's still sensitive so you buck your hips up whining. He stops and pulls away looking up at you, "was that too much?"
"N-no just uh still sensitive." You say looking anywhere but his eyes.
"Then how about no foreplay and I just fuck you?" He whispers making you clench your thighs.
He smirks and leans in to kiss you. You tug on the waistband of his sweats while kissing him and he grunts. "Well actually I might wanna use your mouth a bit...." He says and you smile.
You grab him and flip positions so you're on top of him. You sit up and place yourself right on his bulge and grind on it slowly. He leans his head back his mouthing in the shape of an o and his breathing heavy. "Don't tease me too much or you won't end up liking the outcome...."
You shrug and lay one hand against his chest while grinding against him. "Jesus you're so hard- did you even stroke yourself watching me or just tortured yourself and watched?" You ask with a chuckle making him smirk.
"Might’ve been more interested in the show to even do anything...." He says and winks.
You grin and go down his body, tracing your fingers along every crevice and line, along his abs and v line. You lick down his v line to where his sweats were. "Don't need these right now..." you pull them down as he shifts up a bit so you can get them over his ass.
You slide them all the way down and just look at his bulge over his tight fitting boxers. It looks so long and thick. "Wore these on purpose hm?"
"Just took a guess." He says with a smirk.
You grab the top of the boxers and pull them off slowly until you get to where the whole thing just plops out and hits his stomach making your eyes widen. "Now suck on it like you sucked on your dildo." He says making you gulp. He's insane.
It was a good 8 to 9 inches but so fucking girthy your mind couldn't wrap your head around it. You grab the bottom of it and you have to practically grab it with both your hands. You bite your lip then kiss the tip softly. Then you stick your tongue out and slap it against your wet tongue. He quietly moans and you look up at him and do it again. He rolls his eyes back and his head against the headboard. You giggle and spit on the tip watching it all go down and slowly stroke it to have all the saliva cover it. You spit on it some more and start stroking him. While you do that you go down to his balls and suck on them. You could hear him moan some more and you could feel how wet it's making you. "Así cariño no pares- ay si-" (Just like that dear don't stop- oh fuck)
You stroke him a little faster now and come up to suck on it. You get in a decent position and slide it in your mouth slowly. You close your eyes and start going down and back up. You go about halfway until he thrusts his hips making you take the whole thing down your throat, and you moan on it. You pull up and breathe out. "Would you prefer to fuck my face? I don't have a gag reflex...."
He widens his eyes and grabs you leading you towards the floor. You get on your knees while he stands in front of you. "It won't be for too long.... This time." He says with a wink making your cheeks flush red.
"I just really need to feel your throat real quick... then that wet pussy." He says and you nod.
"You can pull on my hair too if you want..."
"Dios- porque estas tan perfecta- mas que me imaginé..." he says and goes straight to work grabbing your hair with one hand and letting you put your mouth on it first. (God- why are you so perfect- more than I imagined...)
He starts to slowly move his hips letting you adjust for a few seconds before he finally starts going faster. Your head is still and he's the one doing all the moving, you close your eyes while you feel him in your mouth going deeper and deeper. You feel him go down your throat and he keeps hitting it making you drip. He goes faster and he doesn't stop moaning your name while still having a tight grip on your hair. "Fuck- Y/n your t-throat feels so good."
You moan against his dick and he groans. "Fuck this-" he says and moving back and sliding his dick out of your mouth.
He grabs your hands helping you get up only to have him man handle you on to the bed making you lay on your stomach. "Ass up now." He says in a stern voice and you comply.
You move your ass as much as you can and then arch your back. "The dirtiest girl huh?" He smirks and lines up his dick to your pussy.
"Nomas para ti Miguel." You murmur looking back at him and he moans and slams into you making you jump and whimper. (Just for you Miguel)
"H-holy fu- oh s-shit-!" you moan, your legs shaking already.
He grabs onto your hips and starts fucking you faster already not letting you adjust at all. You moan and roll your eyes back. He's moaning and groaning the room filled with the sound of skin to skin, his body against yours. "Migue-" you moan out and lay your head against the bed.
"Fuck baby- god you feel so much better than I thought you would." He says making you whimper and clench cashing him to moan.
"Fuck- oh fuck you're so tight around me baby-"
His words just do something to your body and you're already feel all dazed and obsessed with him fucking you. So many months of fantasizing and now it's finally happening. He's pounding into you and smacking your ass leaving it red. "Miguel deeper plea-"
He cuts you off by fucking you deeper making you both moan and making you clench around him again as well as whine. "O-oh fuck- oh Miguel I'm-"
"Me too baby, fuck I wanna cum inside you-" he moans out and you clench again making him go faster.
He's pounding into you and you feel your orgasm come fast. He moans with every trust he makes and it's driving you insane. Your arch is no longer an arch as your legs were slowly giving up on you but that didn't stop Miguel from still fucking you hard and also leaning down to you his mouth to your ear, and whispering dirty things to you. "Así soñabas que te cogiera nena? Eh? Quisiste esto desde que me viste huh? Yo se que yo si, mmm desde que v-veniste el primer día." (Is this how you dreamed I'd fuck you baby girl? You've wanted this since you first saw me huh? I know I did, mm since the first time you c-came.)
Your eyes rolls back and you whimper, "fuck- yes- fuck I dreamt you'd fuck me like this every- every fucking night Miguel."
He goes back to his original position but he flips you around so you're on your back while he was still inside you. "I wanna look at your pretty face while I cum deep inside you."
You wrap your arms around his neck and bring him in for a kiss. It's instantly needy and desperate, his tongue in your mouth and yours trying to go into his, with his pace still going strong. "P-pleas-"
He goes a bit slower and he moans in your mouth. Your hands go to his back light digging your nails into his skin which makes him groan. He fucks you deeper again unexpectedly so your nails dig into his skin a little harder and you feel close. "M-Miguel- I'm so- fu- I'm so clo-"
He pulls away him your mouth and nods, "me too angel- cum with me."
You moan and wrap your legs around his legs and it feels even bigger inside you. You both moan together and his legs start shaking. You're feeling tired fast but you need to cum with him. Your eyes are closing as you're ready for him to cum inside you to sleep together. You both start shaking as you clench around him and he groans finally shooting his cum inside you and your orgasm takes over, your legs shaking as he stops. You're both panting in each others face when he goes all the way inside you making sure every inch of you is covered. He slowly pulls out and all his cum spills out. "Jesus fuck Y/n- holy- god that pussy worked fucking wonders."
You shake and just nod before closing your eyes and losing consciousness. "Goodnight love."
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berryzxx · 2 months
Text
You are divine
Azriel x reader
Summary: You haven't seen Azriel for ages after a mission has kept him busy and you decide to wait for his return. Will you finally reveal your feelings or is it just not the right time?
idk what this is or where the idea came from but hope u enjoy xx ofc it's not checked either so pretend there are no mistakes
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I lounged on the sofa, my book next to me but not actually reading it. It's not that I didn't like it, I actually found the romance in the book once of the best things I had read in a while but I couldn't settle down to enjoy it.
I was waiting for Azriel to come back from a mission he had been on for two weeks now. I had recently figured out the slight ache I felt whenever I remembered him was because I missed him and not because I had some sort of heart disease. Although I don't exactly know why seen as though our conversations consisted of "Good mornings'" "Good nights" and small smiles here and there.
"What are you doing?" Nesta asked, as she swept into the living room ,a cup of tea in her hand. I could smell the slight hint of lemon and honey and it was not a smell I particularly enjoyed. She sat down on the armchair opposite me as if she was going to start interviewing me. She probably was.
I sat up slightly and showed her the book I was reading. "I'm reading. Why?" She was definitely up to something.
She took a sip of her tea before continuing "I didn't know you could read without actually looking inside the book. Do you just absorb the words?" Her sarcasm was there but so was her teasing. I stuck my tongue out at her and put the book to the side. There was no point lying anymore.
"I'm waiting for Azriel. I haven't seen him in a while" I tried to keep my expression neutral like I was waiting for a friend and not because I may like him.
Nesta it seemed found something funny as a smirk made it's way onto her face "Waiting for Azriel? Do you miss him?"
If I replied no, she would ask why I was waiting and if I said yes I would never hear the end of her teasing. So I decided to take the safer route "Don't we all miss him when he leaves? It's been two weeks now"
Putting her cup of tea down she sighed "I suppose. Although it's getting late now. You can always see him in the morning."
She knew exactly what she was doing. Her plan to trap me in her questioning had worked because she was smiling now and I didn't know what to say. I narrowed my eyes at her "Isn't it your bed time?"
I asked, redirecting the conversation even though we both knew by now why I was waiting for him.
She shrugged slightly but stood up "It is. Sweet dreams" The house vanished the cup for her as she stood up and made her way to the door before looking back "You know, I don't think I've ever met anyone as oblivious as you or Azriel. It's excruciating to watch"
So she knew. Well I suppose it was pretty obvious how I always wanted to spend time with Azriel and how I was always waiting for him to return from missions. But I don't know why she called Azriel oblivious. It was probably the fact that he never noticed how much I liked him.
I crossed my arms in defiance to her words "I don't know what your talking about" I was never about to admit I liked someone and they didn't like me back. My pride wouldn't let me.
"Hmm. Okay." She left and it was silent once again. It was dark outside, the fae lights of Velaris could be seen twinkling in the distance as the people went from bar to bar, partying the night away. It was getting late, she was right. Maybe I should wait for a few more minutes? Just in case. I watched the balcony, waiting for him to land but I never saw it because soon my eyes became heavier and harder to keep open. The constant sound of the clock in the room added to the sleepiness I was feeling as if it was ticking away the time until I fell asleep.
I decided to rest my eyes for a while. Just so I could be awake for when Azriel would arrive. Resting my eyes turned into me falling asleep on the sofa and missing the whole point of my I was sat there in the first place.
I was woken up by someone whispering my name in the dark. I pushed the voice away and turned my face away trying to get to sleep again, not bothering to open my eyes to see who it was.
"Aren't you uncomfortable on the sofa?" It was Azriel. He repeated my name again and this time I finally woke up. I rubbed my eyes to see in the mostly dark room and saw hazel eyes full of warmth looking down at me. His wings were folded in and he was still in his Illyrian armour. There wasn't a speck of blood on him as if he had changed just before coming home. He shouldn't have had to take a detour just so he looked presentable coming home. He should have felt comfortable enough to come home and clean up instead of probably going to a shabby hotel in which he must have used the cramped bathrooms not big enough for wings. I hoped it wasn't me that made him so cautious around his own home.
He looked gorgeous as ever, even though he looked tired as hell too. I shook my head and sat up, stretching so I could hear the satisfactory crack from my back.
"I'm fine. How long have you been back for?" I asked, slightly annoyed at myself for having waited for so long and not even seen him come in. Azriel sat down next to me and even from the small distance between us I could feel his heat. I was glad he was back. The dull pain in my heart had receded now and I pushed back the desire to hug him. His shadows weren't as lively or moving about as they usually were as if they were tired too, just resting on his shoulders instead.
"A few minutes. What are you doing on the sofa?" He asked, looking at me like I was doing something odd. Well, I suppose I was but what was I supposed to say? The truth?
"I was reading and I fell asleep." The lie came easily off my tongue. It was helpful in situations where telling the truth would result in a painful death but sometimes lying was just easier than telling the truth. For fear of what the other person would say or how they would react. I'd rather not embarrass myself like that.
Azriel merely nodded his head, looking down at the wooden floorboards and not saying anything. The clock seemed louder now as if it were waiting for our conversation to start again.
"How was your mission?" I asked, looking at his reaction. His wings twitched slightly but otherwise his expression remained the same.
"Shit" He replied after clearing his throat. I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion. Why was it shit? The reports Rhys was getting all proved of the successful discoveries Azriel had made and not once was it mentioned something had failed.
"Why was it shit? I thought you found out everything you needed to? Did something happen? Were your spies found? Did you get hurt?" With every question it seemed Azriel's jaw clenched even more than before, leaving him to look slightly angry at this point. I scanned him for any injuries but physically he seemed fine. Well, more like fucking gorgeous and hot as hell but that wasn't the point.
"It was shit because I was away from home for two weeks. I am capable of missing people you know. I don't always want to be out on missions"
I paused at his words. He was right. I had dismissed it, just because he was good at his job, didn't mean he always wanted to do it or that he didn't miss people when he left. The air around us had thickened into something awkward and I hated the slight feeling of guilt growing in me. It was unusual for Azriel to open up like this but I was glad he wasn't answering in one word answers and actually wanted my company. Even if it was him slightly snapping at me.
After some deliberating I decided to tell the truth. I could always pretend we were just friends and I wasn't harbouring feelings for him "I missed you while you were gone. You went for ages, almost two weeks. It would have been exactly fourteen days if you arrived tomorrow" I informed him. I don't know why I said that but I did and now he was looking at me and his piercing gaze made me feel like I had been caught doing something I shouldn't have.
"You missed me?" He asked, sounding like he was holding his breath and waiting for my next words.
I nodded slowly "Of course I did" I don't know what he was expecting but he let out a sigh and looked down again. Was my answer not what he wanted to hear?
"You should get some sleep now...on your bed and not the sofa" Azriel interrupted my thoughts and stood up, his wings flaring slightly before folding again. What if I touched his wings? What would happen? I knew perfectly well what would happen so I banished the thought from my mind and stood up.
"You should sleep too. You must be tired" I said, covering a yawn with my hand. Really, this welcome wasn't what it was supposed to be. Although I don't really know what it was supposed to be. I was acting like I would hug and kiss him and tell him how I'd missed him but instead we'd had a conversation for two minutes and decided to call it a night. Not the most amazing thing in the world.
He nodded his head "I will. Once I have a shower and try to wash away the death on my hands" He said it so casually as if the death made no difference to him. Even if it was something he did quiet often how used to death could a person really get? You couldn't become immune to it. His shadows had gathered near his hands and his neck as if they were comforting him or hiding him from my stare.
"The death on your hands is part of your job. Not who you are" I replied quietly. I hoped he knew that.
"You always know what to say don't you? I suppose that's why everyone says you have a silver tongue" His lips had turned up in a small smile and his shadows had receded slightly. I smiled back, glad he wasn't taking my words as offensive and instead found humour in them.
I shrugged slightly and before I knew what I was saying I had let my thoughts spill out "This tongue can do other things, y'know" I clapped a hand over my mouth, my eyes widening in horror. I was stupid. So fucking stupid.
Azriel had paused. His eyes widened slightly, signalling his surprise at my words but other than that he looked like a statue. Nothing moved. Until I heard a slight chuckle escape from his perfect lips and then an actual laugh that made my heart ache and feel bright with happiness at the same time. Ache because I hadn't heard such a beautiful sound in ages and happiness because it was me making him laugh. It was so infectious that I lowered my hands and smiled at his reaction.
"Who knew you could flirt? I wouldn't mind if you showed me what other things you could do"
Now it was my turn to stand in shock as Azriel's laughter came to an abrupt halt and he eyed me warily.
"I didn't mean that" He added quietly, all of the lightness around us gone.
I tilted my head slightly "I meant what I said though" I waited for what he would say. I had finally let it out. The fact that I wanted him and I didn't feel any better. I didn't feel lighter or as if I had hope within me. Instead nerves gathered in my stomach waiting for his rejection.
Azriel moved closer to me, his boots silent on the floorboard until there was an inch of space between us and if I wanted to, I could reach up and brush a stray curl away from his forehead.
"If I were to kiss you right now what would you do? Would you run? Push me away in disgust? " His questions were said one after another, his voice soft and his eyes locked onto mine. I had to strain my ears to make out the exact words he was saying but they went straight to my heart. As if I would ever have disgust and Azriel in the same sentence.
I swallowed. It was now or never. I wrapped my arms around his neck and moved closer until we were a hairs width apart. I waited for him to push me away but instead he watched me with intrigue and full intensity. I tilted my face up so our lips touched slightly, a jolt of electricity running through my entire body. His hands immediately came to rest on my hips, tugging my closer until I was pressed up against him and his lips were on mine and were were kissing and it felt like I was in heaven, and I never wanted it to end.
"This is what I would do" I murmured. His eyes were closed as he breathed in deeply before opening them again "You are divine" He whispered to me, before leaning in and kissing me as if his life depended on it.
(haven't posted in a while but I PROMISE i'll be more on top of things...hopefully🤍🤞)
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show-your-fangs · 8 months
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omg omg omg can I pls request hotch genuinely being the most clueless, dumb-and-in-love individual?
Basically the team has to point it out to him for him to see how soft he is for reader and how differently he treats them 💗😩 he’s in love, your honour 🤭
i love our stupid man in love, he's so cute i can't.
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this is part two of this blurb from my moments au
Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x f!Reader
Words: 1.7k
CW: nothing, just fluff.
Disclaimer: YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO REPOST MY WRITING ANYWHERE ELSE WITHOUT MY CONSENT. REBLOGS ARE ENCOURAGED THOUGH. YOU MAY NOT FEED MY WORK TO ANY AI DATABASES OF ANY KIND OR TO USE MY WORKS TO TRAIN AI. FUCK AI.
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He didn’t ask you out that night. Neither Morgan or Rossi won the bet, the unfortunate draw making them only want to try harder to win over the other.
That had been a week ago, the pool only growing as more agents got in on it and it had somehow gotten out of hand really quickly. Penelope had been tasked with keeping track of the bets, but it was becoming increasingly difficult to keep her mouth shut about it, especially when she was around you. 
The team had left for a case earlier in the week which meant you were spending a lot of time with her. From helping with research, running point from the office, making calls and setting up permits, warrants, everything and anything they needed, you were practically tied at the hip as per usual when the team was away. The only problem? Penelope Garcia could not keep a secret to save her life, and the more time she spent with you, the more she almost slipped and told you what was going on.
You had closed the case earlier that night after five days of grueling work. You were exhausted, more so emotionally than physically, so you’d invited Penelope to dinner as way to celebrate the little victory. But what had started as a simple night out had quickly turned wild as the waiter had taken a liking to her and kept the cocktails coming throughout your entire meal. You were on dessert, a forgettable chocolate lava cake with ice cream when she finally slipped.
“I just think it’s so silly,” she giggled in between sips of her drink and scoops of dessert. 
“What’s silly?” you egged her on, whatever this secret was had eluded you for the entire week and you just needed to know. 
“How much Hotch likes you,” her cheeks flushed pink but her brain didn’t realize what’d she’d admitted to yet, allowing her to continue. “The team has a bet going on when he’s going to ask you out and everything.” 
“Huh,” you mused. “That is silly.”
That’s when her brain snapped, dread and realization washing over her all at once. Her eyes widened, her spoon fell from her hand and onto the plate. 
“Oh my gosh, do you not like Hotch back? I could’ve sworn— I am mortified! Forget I told you, please I am begging you—”
You reached over and placed your hand over hers, gently soothing her out of her panic as a mischievous smile curled on your lips. 
“Can you get me on the board, Pen?”
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Apparently they were all convinced it wasn’t happening for a while. They had decided to overcorrect their previous assumptions, placing bets that were days if not weeks in the future. Penelope had added you to the bet list that same night, promising to keep the secret until the next morning. 
You knew the clock was ticking, knew that once you started the countdown, you had no business losing your courage. It was now or never, and the reminder that soon the rest of the team would be shuffling into the bullpen to start their day, that they’d know someone else had made a risky bet — it only got your adrenaline pumping even more. 
You poured his coffee as you watched him enter the office, gaze on his phone, powerful and confident strides leading him towards his office. He turned and waved from the top of the stairs once he finally noticed you, a small smile on his lips. You smiled back, your cheeks reddening slightly as you finished getting your own coffee in order, the pale tan a contrast to his straight black. 
You made your way to his office a minute after he’d settled, placing his cup on his desk and taking a seat across from him. This had been your routine for months now, you’d bring him his coffee in the morning and the two of you would fill each other in on your lives. 
Aaron had been dealing with his divorce, the guilt of having to split Jack’s time between him and his mom, the added stress of finding a new place and moving, of finding himself alone when he’d been used to always having someone to come home to after a tough case. And you? You had just started going to therapy after he’d encouraged you to. It had been a rocky adjustment to the job, and you were glad that you could confide in him as your boss but also as your friend. 
“Thank you,” he mumbled, pulling out the case files he’d taken back home the night before. 
You shot him a look, the look, and he couldn’t help but sigh deeply. You weren’t angry, you were simply disappointed, and he knew that. It had been hard, harder now that he had to force himself back out there if he wanted to actually have a life. But even after months of this new normal, the idea of dating made him even more exhausted than he’d like to admit. 
Because while Morgan or Emily thrived meeting new people, Aaron had met Haley in high school. He’d been with one woman his entire life, one woman for more than twenty years. He was rusty to say the least, the insecurity of it only growing the more he refused to take the leap, the more he refused to feel his feelings, the more he fell in love with you. 
“Haley had Jack last night—” he started but you were quick to interrupt him. 
“That’s a terrible excuse,” you chided. “There’s a million things you could’ve done instead.”
“Oh yeah?” the mischief was back in his eyes, making you gulp visibly. “What did you do last night?”
Your mouth opened in mock annoyance, he couldn’t possibly know—
“For your information, sir,” you mocked. “I went out with Penelope last night.” 
Whatever glimmer of hope Aaron had cultivated to tease you about taking work back home was extinguished in a second. He sat back in his chair, inaudibly admitting defeat. 
“Maybe that’s what you need too,” you started, your heart racing once more. His eyebrows shot up and you could tell his blood had also gotten to his head. “Ask someone out, go on a date, get laid.”
That caught him off guard completely. If he had been sipping on his coffee he would’ve choked, made an even bigger fool of himself. But instead his cheeks just reddened, his ears quickly following suit, a detail he knew you knew about him as you’d pointed it out many times in the past.
But you didn’t today, you didn’t say anything about his reaction but he was too hot to notice it right away.
“It’s what I have to do too, honestly,” you shrugged, faux confidence somehow allowing you to not combust right then and there. 
“Do you now?” he managed through gritted teeth, the idea of you dating something that he made sure never to think about because it always led him down a dark path of rage and an ungodly desire to ravage you to the point where you belonged to him and no one else. 
“Yeah,” you drawled on, almost sighing dramatically. That’s when he caught on, when his brain finally reconnected to his body and his heart only sped up even more. “But I don’t know…I’m not really into any of the guys Penelope or Emily have tried to set me up with, they’re not really my type.”
God, this was not actually happening. “What is your type?”
“Crime fighting single dads who adore their kids and participate in triathlons for fun,” there was no misinterpreting it now. 
“Would you like to have dinner with me tonight?” the words flew out of his mouth before either of you could register them. 
A bright smile took over your lips, your eyes sparkling with happiness. A shy smile slowly started to turn adorably embarrassed on his, his gaze tentatively raising to meet yours, eyebrows raised almost pleading, his eyes round and hopeful. 
“I would love to,” you said and he graced you with the most beautiful full smile you’d ever seen from him. It was unrestricted, genuine, life giving. 
“Great,” he cleared his throat as the clock struck eight, the reality of the world outside of your little office bubble a reminder of where you were. “I’ll pick you up at eight.”
“Can’t wait,” you reassured him, standing up with your own untouched coffee mug and making your way downstairs. “Oh, and it’s my treat. Trust me.”
You were gone before he could argue, but you knew that he couldn’t stop smiling, the warmth radiating from him was enough for you know it deep in your bones.
“Babygirl,” Morgan asked aloud, holding up the list of bets that Penelope had left on his desk earlier as the blonde returned to the bullpen from her office. “What’s this?”
He tapped on the bet you’d written down, the other agents gathering to inspect the new addition.  
“Proof of my victory, Derek,” you said cockily as Penelope handed you the envelope full of cash. 
The entire team turned to you, eyes wide and anger slowly boiling. But none of them let it out, instead they all looked impressed, they respected the move, the hustle, the boldness. Morgan scoffed in proud defeat as he held out his fist for you to bump, and you did, excitedly.  
It had finally happened, the start of something that had been brewing for months, and you couldn’t be happier. While the girls walked up to you to get all the details you shot Aaron a cheeky glance as Penelope filled Emily and JJ in on your conversation the night before, and for the first time ever, Aaron allowed himself to meet your glance, unashamed to be caught staring at you. 
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i've been smiling like an idiot all day
taglist: @ssamorganhotchner, @canuck-eh, @cr1minalskies, @xladyxdreamer, @mrs-ssa-hotch
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vampzzi · 1 year
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TRAINED OUT
Simon "Ghost" Riley x Captain John price x Keegan P Russ x "Soap" MacTavish x Konig x Female reader
cw: this all consensual, running a train, creampie, tit fucking, blowjobs, choking, hair pulling, blood kink, rough sex, cervix kissing, awkward sex positions that took me too long to figure out how to write, Dacryphilia, cum drinking, cumming on body, just really messy sex, porn without plot, consented recording, anal fingering, anal sex with prep, vaginal sex, pussy slapping
author's note : thank you for 100+ followers, enjoy this mess of a post while I push myself into exam week. post will be more distant cause of exam week
TAGLIST (just ask to be added!!) : @antishadow2021 @banana-gurl20-blog
MALE VERSION ! . . . .
The camera light flickered as Keegan held the phone, the light flashing red showing that it was recording as you looked up at the camera and looked away nervously. When Soap mentioned something about a train, you didn’t think it would be this many people. 
You held your finger up and counted..Ghost, Keegan, Soap and Konig. Price was briefly mentioned but you didn’t know how much you could take before he could get to you. 
Alright..Soap turned his back to you and held a smile as you nervously smiled back and did a stiff wave as cleared his throat. “You’ve got a long way ahead of you, but before we get to it.” He paused.
 “Are you clean? Like any STD’s orr” chiming in before he could finish “If I had an STD, I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t have agreed. That’d be cruel and evil.” He only nodded at your response “Anyways, who do you want to go first?” You haven’t thought of that yet, Keegan only held on the phone and kept it rolling.
He seemed uneasy but calm, his icy blue eyes burning into yours as you broke eye contact with him and looked at your options. “Keegan.” He clutched onto the phone with a tight grip as he tensed up and relaxed, trying to keep his composure. “Alright then.” 
He out stretched his arm  as Keegan walked up to him and placed the phone  in his hand. It honestly made you wonder what would people think if this is what the Task 141 does in their freetime, “training”. 
 Keegan literally had no fucking idea how he got convinced to do this, this is something he’d think about and immediately say “nope” or “pass”.  He had experience it’s just he felt vulnerable in this situation, this felt way more than intimate and he couldn’t put his finger on this feeling.
“Say..instead of 1 person, how about you pick one more Name.” Soap spoke as you chuckled and pointed without even thinking “Ghost.” He was expecting to be last if he was honest with himself but that quite surprised him. Ghost and Keegan sat on the bed as you sandwiched yourself between the two big men as you felt smaller. 
They were both insanely strong and good looking, your breathing was heavy as you looked around. Keegan shoved what little bit of dignity he had inside him and kissed you as you submitted in the kiss. Ghost hands snaking around your waist as the skull part of his mask dug into your skin as he rested on your shoulder, he wasn’t going to lift his mask in front of all these people.
Now if it was you, it would be completely different. But he still did it anyway as he placed kisses on your neck as you mewled out. He nibbed and dragged his teeth from the atlas of your neck to your collarbone, repeating the motion as he bit down harder and harder each time. 
Each time, it would strike moans out of you as Keegan’s tongue explored the wet cavern of your mouth, tongues meshing with each other while your vision doubled, the feeling of you being disassociated from your body had you pushing yourself into the men. 
The feeling of your blood trickling your neck along with the feeling of Ghost’s warm tongue licking up the evidence as you pulled away from Keegan to breathe. As they both looked at you, pupils blown with lust, hair in a different state than a few minutes ago. 
You were completely out of it and they were too as Ghost raised his head from your shoulder and smirked as your blood was at the corner of his mouth, the metallic smell held a trance over you. Keegan helped you lay back as your head laid over the edge of the bed and your bottoms were pulled off as well as your garments, the room was actually colder than you thought it was as the coolness washed over your warm pussy.
Keegan's hands trailed down your waist and over your mound to your wet folds while Ghost was focused on the belt of his pants, he really should have taken all these unnecessary belts off just like when he took his gear off before getting here. Freeing himself from the decades worth of belts, he pulls his pants down as you can see bulge in his boxers as you almost salivate at the sight.
Your other partner on the other hand is already heavy against your folds, rubbing up and down against your cunt as he smears your juices over his heavy cock. Ghost pulls his boxers down and takes his cock out and strokes it as he smirks “Open wide, pretty girl..” he coos as you open your mouth and he slowly pulls into your mouth as you take every inch.
He’s still pushing into your mouth until he pushes through the tight squeeze and settles inside your throat while you’re to the base of his cock. Face against his shaved pelvis , as Ghost holds a taunting smirk on his face “pretty slut taking what’s giving to her..” he says under his breath, Keegan is more busy thrusting into your cunt as he pushes inside and you jolt forward. 
Choking on Ghost’s cock as he groans out at the feeling, they both thrust at the same time but not the same pace. Ghost is calling you a bitch,whore while also keeping it warm while Keegan is grunting and pulsing inside you as he cusses and whines about how tight you are. 
The roughness and whininess from them has your head spinning. You can only take what your given while Ghost fucks your throat throughly, your pretty sure you have a bulge in your throat from Ghost big size while he fucks your face at a pace, you’re not sure how he’s lasting so long at. 
It doesn’t help how Keegan is fucking you and hitting your sweet spots along with your cervix while flicking your clit and pressing down on it, even applying a slap to it as your eyes are watering and your letting out choked sobs and moans. Konig and Price watch closely as you get your holes stuffed and fucked, the pushing back and fourth from the men cause of their harsh unwavering paces. 
No signs of stopping as Keegan can sweat drip down his back and the side of his forehead as he can feel his cock about to explode, as he edges himself to keep going as that doesn’t go as planned as he pulls out and cums all over your cunt, you moan around Ghost’s cock as he’s still fighting his own denied orgasm. 
He holds you close and paints your throat white, the warm fluid filling your mouth as you gulp it down as it’s the best you’ve ever had. He pulls out of your mouth as some cum drips out and onto the floor as you pant out and the men collect their clothing and move out the way.
 “Hm, you lasted longer than I expected,” Soap muttered out. “Guess it our turn Konig” Soap passes the camera back to Keegan. Konig uncrosses his arm and stops leaning on the wall as Soap and Konig walk up to you as you sit up. 
Soap took off his shirt and completely stripped himself but his boxer as he laid down “Come here Name”. 
Soap says as you move over to her and he grabs you by your hips and helps you into a kneeling position as he has you spread your legs a bit more, you help him get his boxers off and he lets out a light hearted laugh “eager, aren't we?” he teased as you rolled your eyes and examined his girth and size.
Not as thick as Ghost or Keegan but he made up for it with his length, “C..Can I?” you breathe out and “Course you can darling.” you slowly sink your pussy down on his cock as he moans out, slapping your ass as you yelp. 
“Fuck, you are tight!” Soap says as you hit the base of him as you feel Konig’s warm hands on your ass as he’s pouring lube on your puckering hole and circling it. Sinking his fingers into it as you focus on the two mixed pleasures as you feel like you’re gonna go cross eyed soon.
Once Konig deems you’re prepared enough, his cock is at your hole. He only says one thing before pushing into you “I hope you’re for this.” The bass and growl in his body has your body shaking as he pushes inside as you dip your nails into Soap’s chest, The way they’re both deep inside of you just like the previous two has you wondering how they don’t have partners. 
They don’t go in Unison like Keegan and Ghost would, they’re fucking brutual. Both moving at fast pace that has you slapping against the base of Soap with loud noises as Konig slaps your ass and holds onto it while fucking into you and Soap is just thrusting into you with a fucking rough pace as he keeps kissing your spots. 
You could pass out from all this if you really wanted to, but you didn’t want too, Konig grabbed you by the Neck and held onto your neck as you choked out a moan as he turned your head to kiss him, while he thrusted into you and Soap gave a few harsh thrusts that had you bouncing upward. The recording was going for a while but they kept at it, you didn’t think you’d get creampied by both Konig and Soap but they blew inside of you with loud cursing as Konig held you by your neck with a low growl while Soap was completely out of it.
The room was reeked of sex, cum and sweat. But hey it bought you guys all together in the end as you laid on the bed and your chest heaved up and down. Soap was of course gonna take care of you as this was his silly little idea as he held a rag and helped clean off the cum while Ghost helped you with clothes and Konig helped with your hair and Keegan gave you words of praise. This was definitely going in your diary as the best moment of your fucking life.
* BONUS !! Price <33
While everyone went with Soap to get you things to help clean up the door opened and Price walked in and smiled down at you. “Well, looks like you had fun” you chuckled and sat up. “You could say that”. “Do you mind if I?” he lifted his hands defensively and you clicked your tongue “I don’t mind, in fact I welcome it” bringing a smile to his face. 
He walked up to you and unzipped his pants, pulling his boxers down along with his pants and laying his cock against the soft of your breast. You squished them as he nestled between them and sighed out “Ready?” Price said and you made eye contact with him “Ready than I’II ever be.” He thrusted between your boobs with a rough pace as the tip kissed your lips as you snuck your tongue and applied a kitten lick to the head as he bit his lip.
“Fuck..Do that again” he said as you repeated the kitten licks to his head before taking the tip in your mouth and swirling your tongue around it and licking in the slit while he thrust between your soft breast as he gasped and grunted as he rutted against your mouth to take more of his cock.
He was pulsing as you could feel how much warmer his cock was as he pulled away and came on your tits, opening your mouth as some hit your tongue and face. “You’re fuckin messy, but I love my girls messy” Price said before the door opened to the others returning back.
“Looks like Price is here” Soap says “How about a round 2 but with price?” “sounds like a plan.”
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cb97breathing · 10 months
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I NEED YOU, I LOVE YOU
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Pairing: Han Jisung x Afab! Reader Request: Yes Theme: Friends To Lovers / Non Idol Han Warning: Story will contain mature theme's. Unprotected Sex. Breeding Kink. Oral (F receiving) Minors DO NOT READ. Word Count: 2.5k (got carried away for this one) Disclaimer: This is purely fiction.
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"A date?" You asked quietly. You looked at your best friend in shock who was grinning ear to ear. You're heart was in your stomach. "Y-You're going on a date?" You could see the rest of the guys staring at you in concern, while Jisung nodded in excitement. "O-Oh, that's great." You added and forced a smile onto your face.
You went into your own little world as Jisung gushed to the guys about the girl who he worked up the courage to ask out. Changbin and Chan couldn't help but occasionally glance at you in concern. It was no secret to the both of them or the rest of the guys that you were helplessly in love with Jisung. The only who was clueless was currently breaking your heart by rambling about another girl. Chan wanted to reach out and grab your hand, but he knew that would bring attention to you that you didn't need.
Your bottom lip trembled and tears threatened to spill out of your eyes. You couldn't let him see you like this, it's not like it's his fault anyway. You never had the guts to tell him how much you loved him. She got up quickly and muttered a quick sorry before rushing out of the coffee shop that you all usually hang at, ignoring all the boys calling out to you.
Jisung stared after you confused and looked to the boys. "What was that about?" He asked quietly. Changbin just looked at him and shook his head before getting up himself and going after you. Jisung turned to Chan with a questioning look.
"Mate if you don't understand what just happened, you're truly a moron." Chan said and got up as well to go after you. The rest of the boys just shook there head and Jisung and told him to let it go.
That night Chan and Changbin spent the night with you, holding you while you were crying. Trying to comfort you in anyway they can. Felix eventually joined too. Jisung kept calling you and texting all night. You ignored him and turned your phone off. Changbin thankfully covered for you and said you just weren't feeling well and that you were sleeping. But you continued to ignore him for days. You didn't want to talk to or see him. You didn't want to know how he was falling for someone else and going on dates.
Jisung on the other hand was a mess. The fact that you weren't talking to him was driving him insane. He kept asking the guys why she wasn't speaking to him and they would never tell him. They would just shake their heads and call him an idiot for not realizing. Jisung did everything he could to try and see you. He showed up at your work, only to be told you had taken time off and weren't feeling well. He tried to get you to answer the door at your apartment but was always met with silence.
Days turned into weeks. You would see the boys but did everything in your power to avoid Jisung, much to the boys protests, and any time you'd see him you'd immediately run away. Leaving Jisung broken and in tears calling out to you as you left. Jisung couldn't understand what he did wrong until one day he finally caught up with you and caught you by the arm.
"Y/n please! Please talk to me." He begged as tears flew down his cheeks. "You're my best friend, please tell me what I did wrong?" You knew you were being selfish and cruel to him. You knew avoiding him was wrong. But any time you saw him all you felt was pain.
"Right, friend." You spat out and looked at him as you yanked your arm out of his grasp. "That's all I'll ever be to you." You choked out. As you stared into his eyes with your broken ones, everything clicked. He knew, he understood why you ran off. With wide eyes he stared at you and slowly reached out to cup your cheek but you backed away from him. "Just stay away Han." The fact that you called him Han made him flinch. You never called him that. He reached out to you again but you turned and left him there.
After a few weeks Chan couldn’t take it any more and neither could the boys. So they hatched up a plan to get you both alone. They hated how miserable the two of you both became. They knew you both needed each other but you were stubborn and Han was to scared to admit his feelings.
It was Valentine’s Day and you spent the whole day with Chan and Felix at Chan’s apartment. You watched movies and ate chocolate. When it started getting dark you noticed Chan give Felix a knowing glance. You looked at them both in confusion. Chan told you to head back to your apartment and that there would be a surprise there.
You stood at you apartment door staring at it. Hesitant to even go in. Your heart was pounding because you didn’t know what was behind the door. When you finally had the courage to open the door your eyes widened at the sight. There were bouquets of roses and candles all over the apartment and standing in the middle of it all was Jisung holding a single rose in his hand. Your heart stopped as your eyes landed on him and you almost ran away again.
“Don’t you dare.” You jumped to see Changbin standing near the door. “He worked so hard on this all day for you. Go in there and give him a chance.” He pushed you in gently before walking out of the apartment and closing the door behind him. You turned to stare at Jisung. Who looked breathtaking. He was wearing your favorite pair of ripped jeans and a black vneck that cling tight to him. It’s almost as if he wore them on purpose. You slowly walked to him and when you finally stood in front of him he gently handed you the rose in his hand. When you accepted it he let out a shaky breath.
“Y/n.” He breathed out as his eyes bore into yours. “First I’m going to apologize for being an absolute clueless asshole.” He bit his lip and looked down at his feet. “I should have realized the second you ran out of the cafe what I had done. But you know I’m not the brightest of the bunch.” You couldn’t help but snort in response to which he looked up at you and smiled. “I’m sorry I hurt you. I’m sorry it took me so long to see how you felt.” He whispered.
“No Ji. I’m sorry. I’m sorry for acting so selfish.” You whispered in response. “It’s not your fault you didn’t know. I acted like a child. I can’t force you to like me.” Jisung laughed and shook his head.
“Y/n do you think I would do all of this just to win you back as a friend?” He asked softly and moved closer to you. You stared at him in confusion. “It took me a while to realize but I love you y/n.” Your eyes widened in disbelief as he reached out to caress your cheek gently. “Being without you for almost a month made me miserable. I couldn’t eat. I couldn’t sleep. I could barely function without you. It wasn’t until you told me how you felt that I realized all I needed was you. I need you. I love you. I love you so much that I can’t breathe without you y/n.”
Tears flew down your cheeks and your lip trembled as he pulled you closer by the waist. He pressed his forehead to yours and his soft beautiful lips daringly brushed against yours making your whole body tremble.
“Please tell me that I haven’t lost you. Please tell you’ll be mine.” He begged softly. You couldn’t form words, it felt like this was all a dream. But you couldn’t control yourself anymore. You dropped the rose and cupped his cheeks in your hands, pressing your lips to his. He didn’t even hesitate, he kissed back immediately and picked you up in his arms. He carried you to your bedroom as he continued to kiss you desperately.
He gently placed you back down on your feet and pushed your coat off of you. His eyes searched yours to see if you wanted this to continue. You pulled him close by his jeans and bit your lip. Your hand slowly ran up his chest and around his neck as your nose brushed against his.
“I love you Jisung.” You whispered softly. “I want to be yours.” He didn’t hesitate to kiss you deeply and hungrily in response to your words. He reached behind you to unzip your dress and slowly pushed it down letting it fall at your ankles. His eyes hungrily stared at your body and he growled softly. The growl made you shiver as your core began to ache. You didn’t wear a bra and were only left in your panties and heels and the sight ignited something primal in him. His hand’s immediately went to your breasts and started to knees at them like a cat. You whimpered at the feeling and felt yourself become drenched in excitement.
He gently pushed you onto the bed and took off his shirt. You bit your lip as you stared at his toned chest. As he went to take off his jeans and pants you slipped off your heels and panties. Your eyes widened when you saw his hard member spring free. There’s no way that’s going to fit inside me. You thought to yourself. You bit your lip as he crawled on top of you and kissed you softly before nipping at your lips. His lips then moved to your neck as you felt his hand slip between your legs. You gasped as you felt his two fingers brush against your soaking core.
“So wet for me already.” He growled softly into your neck and nipped at the skin. “Such a good girl.” You let out a whine and shook as you felt his thumb brush across your clit. You felt his fingers enter you and you gasped. You arched into him as he continued to mark your neck. Your fingers gripped the sheets beneath you. He pumped slowly and gently at first. He kissed down your chest and took your right nipple into his mouth. He groaned as he sucked on it like a child desperate for milk. His fingers began to pump faster and you whimpered and cried like a cat in heat.
“Does it feel good baby?” He whispered softly. “Do I make you feel good?” You whined out a yes in response and he kissed you deeply. “I love you.” He breathed into your lips. He kissed down your body and the latched his mouth to your clit making you cry out at the feeling. His fingers curled and explored until he found your special spot and began to rub it. Your eyes rolled back and your body shook as moans and sobs escaped your lips. “God you taste so fucking delicious.” He whispered before going to devour your core as if he was starving. You could feel something building in your core. Your cries grew louder as you felt yourself tighten around his fingers.
“That’s it beautiful. Let go. Cum on my fingers. I want to watch you cum.” He growled. His lust filled eyes watched you as you come undone on his fingers. The sounds escaping your moth as well as the facial expressions you made made his cock twitch in need. When you had ridden out your high he lined his cock with your core. He rubbed it along your folds letting your juices get all over it. “Are you sure y/n?” He asked softly and looked deep into your eyes. You nodded and rocked your hips into him. “I need you to say it. Say you want me to fuck you. Say you want me to make you mine.”
“Y-Yes Jisung. Please please make me yours!” You begged. He entered slowly and his eyes rolled back at the feeling of how tight and warm you were around him. You whimpered and arched off the bed as you felt him bottom out, completely filling you. Your legs trembled and you whined at the pain.
“It’s okay love. I’ll move when your ready. Just relax.” He whispered as he laid flush against you. He kissed your lips feverishly and pressed his forehead against yours. His thumb brushed against your clit and rubbed in a circular motion. You whimpered as your hands clung to his biceps. You pleadingly looked into his eyes and begged him to move. Your lips brushed against each others as you both panted heavily. He nodded and almost pulled out completely before pushing all the way back in. You both moaned loudly at the feeling.
“God you feel so perfect baby.” He whispered into your lips. His thrusts were slow and gentle. He wanted to make this last for as long as possible. You both stared into each others eyes as he made love to you. Your legs wrapped around his waist in instinct and that caused him to go deeper. Jisung whimpered at the feeling and pressed his forehead against yours. “Mine.” He whispered. “All mine.” You whimpered at his words and nodded. “I’m going to fill you with my seed over and over baby. I want you swollen with my child inside you.” This caused the ache in your core to grow and a loud moan escape you. “You like that? You want me to breed you?”
You let out whine and nodded in response. He growled and buried his head into your neck. Your fingers tangled into his hair and your hips began to rock to meet his thrusts. This made Jisung moan loudly as a hand gripped your curvy waist. His speed began to pick up and his thrusts were no longer gentle. All you could do was cling to him and cry out as he made a mess of you. The sounds of flesh smacking against flesh as you both loudly cried out for each other filled the bedroom. You cried out his name as you felt yourself begin to tighten around him.
“Ji I’m g-gonna— FUCK!” You sobbed out as he pounded into you relentlessly. Your whole body shook as you felt yourself hit your high for the second time. As you came around him you felt his cock throb and he cried out your name loudly over and over again as he painted your walls with his seed. You laid limp beneath him, your body trembling as you whimpered his name.
He pressed his lips against yours and groaned. “Fuck beautiful that was perfect.” He whispered as pulled out. You whined at the feeling of him no longer inside you and he grinned in response. Before you could say anything he had you on your stomach and your ass up in the air. “Don’t worry princess.” He smirked as he stroked himself already hard and ready to enter again. “I promised I would breed you. This is far from over.”
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mysticdarling · 1 year
Text
They accidentally hurt you during intimacy
Characters: venti, xiao, scaramouche (genshin Impact!)
Word count: 1.5k~
Warnings: n.sfw, smut, public sex (venti and xiao), established relationship, mention of tears, pain, rough. [NO MINORS]
(A/n) no pronouns used for reader, afab but mainly only ventis, I did proofread so I apologize if there are any mistakes. Btw I will probably be open to requests in a few weeks if you're interested! hope you pervs enjoy!~ ^^
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Venti
Venti is a very affectionate lover, he showed his love for you in many ways, writing hymns, taking you to the most beautiful places in Monstadt, or to everyone's dismay an overwhelming amount of PDA. So when your lovely bard asked you on a date to Windrise you should have known what the evening foretold. Venti being the Romantic he is, had a beautiful picnic setup under the tree, the crystal flies only adding to the site. Sure the evening did start with songs and maybe a few drinks but soon  you both had shed a few layers, and hands began to wonder. It was only natural for Venti to want to see more, he loved your body, every inch of it. You were flawless, perfect in his eyes and the god of freedom gave you no room to doubt that. Venti left no area untouched; he was mesmerized by his lover. "Windblume i want to see you on top of me" how could you ever refuse such a request his voice was tender but so very desperate for you.
So there you were displayed on top of him. Venti started with his fingers letting his slender digits explore your Folds loving the shutters and jerks when he touched sensitive areas. Soon Venti's  length hardened against you, his grin making it clear he was very much enjoying himself. When he did rip his fingers away from you, he made sure to look you right in the eyes as he licked off the remaining wetness from them. "Mm you taste so good my love! ehe" Venti had no shame he relished in making you embarrassed. After he finished licking off all of your essence, he placed his hands upon your hips lowering you down onto his cock. The most beautiful sounds and noises escaped you both in unison as he sank himself into you. Venti was addicted to the gummy walls that constricted around him, he bucked his hips up letting out the most emotion filled whines and whimpers.
Something that's not new to you is that Venti could change his form but what he seemed to have left out was, that also included parts of himself. 
Venti wanted to feel more he needed it, he pushed himself off of the ground arching to get himself deeper but even that seemed not enough. Your god of a boyfriend wanted to defile you, to reach every orifice your body accepted. First it was just one added inch, then two, just enough to barely notice the difference but, Venti became eager wanting to fill you up completely. "shh just a little more" He cooed, his voice like silk. With each Plunge  he grew more and more holding your hips still before eventually hitting your tight ring of muscle, prodding against it. With his length he only kept bearing himself, engrossed in you. Soon he found his partner wasn't riding him, but instead recoiling, the deep pressure becoming a bit too much for you. Venti is a gentle being and would never knowingly hurt you, his face filled with remorse as he returned to his normal size, sitting up and burying himself in your chest.
His arms embraced you "oh love I just wanted to make you feel good I should've been more careful..are you okay my windblume?" Venti held you, comforting the lingering effects, completely apologetic. Let's say the wind was especially soft for the rest of the evening.
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Xiao
 Dating the conquer of demons can be difficult especially since you travel to other nations and Xiao stays in Liyue.
When you did come visit him at Wangshu Inn you found yourself  pushed up in a corner by Xiao, your chest against the balcony wall. Rustling behind you, Xiao was bunching his pants down enough for his length to spring out of the clothing. " Y/n are you sure you're ok with this. I don't think I'll be able to hold back this time…" xiao waited for the reassurance to continue taking a second before removing the clothing covering your lowering half, guiding himself inside you. He couldn't wait anymore; he had to be deep in your warmth. He  let out a groan of pure bliss, his warm hungry breaths against your neck. "Ghm- i missed you… I missed how you feel around me. I hate when you leave Liyue, going places where I can't reach you." His movements started to become much more sharp slapping against the plush cheek of your ass.
Xiao made sure to tell Verr Goldet at the front desk not to disturb him tonight, even so he found himself having to put  his hand upon your mouth to keep all of Liyue from hearing how loud he made you. His cock was merciless, ramming into you so deep ripping the most vile moans from your throat. Your insides were tight around his length, sucking him back in with each movement. It became clear he was starting to lose control himself. His other hand, that wasn't clasped against your mouth, was placed upon your waist ripping the fabric of your clothes leaving scratches across the stretch of skin, his teeth buried into your shoulder. All of your whines and noises muffled by his hand, your body quivering under his grip yet it being the only thing keeping you still standing. Xiao let out groans and grunts from the sheer feeling, fucking into you as if he was a savage animal. The only thing snapping xiao out of his lustful trance was the feeling of your  tears soaking into his glove.  His hips ceased all movement, removing his hand realizing what he had done. He would have let you go completely if you wouldn't fall. "I'm sorry y/n I didn't mean to scare you, I don't know what came over me…" Xiao stammered. It was clear he just wanted to disappear after what he did, the guilt swallowing him whole. It would be your choice whether you want to stop or continue. He will respect it. Though after that night he'll probably wait for you to initiate from now on.
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Scaramoche
Scaramouche may be a puppet but with his past he knows what hurts and what doesn't with a human. He wouldn't hurt you with his body unless he wants to on purpose unlike the others, but instead with his words. Scaramouche took pride in making you fall apart under him. It was pretty obvious he was no gentle lover. He was greedy, he knew you were his but, he was also very much determined to let everyone else know that too. He fucked it right into your brain leaving traces of himself with each harsh movement to make sure you would remember. You were the one person he would not let betray him, he loved you, he would do anything to protect you. Even with his attitude he knew your body well. He knew what you could take and what you couldn't, too bad it's not the same with his mouth. It wasn't anything new that Scaramouche had a sharp tongue. Even though some of his actions could be tender and sweet, his words were far from that. " y/n look at me." he demands, staring down analyzing  every embarrassing way your body reacts to him. You couldn't even deny it he made you feel GOOD. " How dare you keep me waiting. What could be more important?" He sneered clearly wanting a reply. You could barely even think nonetheless speak, all you ended up getting out was  a pathetic excuse for words.
"Is that really all you can say? Pathetic….answer me!"His words grew a bit more harsh. Scara didn't understand why you weren't obeying, do you not think he's worth looking at? Did you favor someone else's looks  more?
"You should be thankful I even chose you to be mine. Hypatia was such a good follower" Once the words escaped his lips he knew he said something wrong. In seconds something shattered inside you, you completely fell out of your daze, Staring up at Scara before shoving the indigo eyed boy off of you. He stared with no emotion upon his face; he almost looked like a doll. He finally got your eyes on him but it wasn't the look he craved for. " i don't actually feel like that…i- i don't want her! i want you i don't know why i would even say that….nothing compares to you, you know that. You just weren't looking at me and I thought if I- '' His voice cracked, his eyebrows twitched, unable to put his words together. A flash of guilt grew across his face, tears swelling in his eyes. You were his one and only. You were his heart.  " Don't expect me to apologize'' Scaramouche scoffed, before falling to his knees hugging your waist the act soon fading. "please don't leave me…" he mattered, staring up at you.
Overall it's your choice if you're willing to forgive him. 
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buckyalpine · 6 months
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I adore all of your stories and turn to them at night when my brain won’t stop running. I have kind of a weird request. How would Bucky react to his girl temporarily losing her memory? (I once lost mine for two weeks due to a bad reaction to a medicine, so this pops in my mind from time to time.) The reader doesn’t remember who he is, but still feels safest when she’s with him. I’m sure he’d be the absolute sweetest. And since he’d know what it was like, he’d probably know what’s helpful and what makes things worse. When she eventually recovers, she remembers all he did for her and falls even more in love 🥰 Maybe some spicy thank yous?
Sorry if it’s too specific or out of your comfort zone! Feel free to change anything (I did base it a bit on what happened to me, but I’m sure it’d be different for everyone). Thanks!!
YESS THIS IS SO SWEET AND SOFT AND ADORABLE
"I need back up on the east wing!" Steve's voice crackled through the coms, his breathing labored as he tossed off another hydra operative against the wall, "A-agent down!"
You were passed out on the floor, dust and rubble surrounding you after exhausting yourself, 3 stab wounds were bleeding profusely from your abdomen along with other cuts and bruises littering your skin. Your head throbbed in pain from where you'd been hit and with each passing second it became harder for you to stay awake. You'd tried your best to keep your eyes open with Steve's pleading but it was too much; the pain started to dull and the world went black.
-
"It's a strong medication and she might be out for a little longer but she's going to be okay. We just have to keep monitoring her" Dr. Cho's voice spoke softly just outside of the room where you still laid unconscious. After getting patched up and scanned for damages, you were dosed with anything and everything to keep you rested and to help with pain. You had visitors day in and day out to check on you but the one that never left your bedside was your sweet boyfriend.
"Baby please wake up" Bucky softly pleaded as he ran his fingers gently across your face, not wanting to disturb you but also unable to keep his hands to himself. Not when he just wanted to see you open your eyes again, hating the fact that he hadn't heard your voice in two weeks.
Two weeks.
That's how long you'd been out for.
He was patient, not wanting to rush your healing time but he missed you so much. He continued his soft ministrations, rubbing his thumb across your knuckles and peppering kisses across your cheeks. He noticed the slight flutter of your lashes, sitting up immediately when your heart monitor picked up.
"Sweetheart?" He kept his voice low, paging for a nurse to come check on you while holding your hand, his heart racing when you finally opened your eyes. "Oh baby"
You blinked at the fluorescent lights of the room, looking at the sterile environment surrounding you. Bucky stroked your hand, hoping to ease away how disoriented you were probably feeling, giving you a soft smile when you finally met his eyes.
"How are you doll?"
"Um-I'm fine?" You stared at the handsome stranger that was by your bedside, his beautiful blue eyes swirling with emotion as he continued to clutch onto your hand.
"I was so worried y/n"
"Who-I'm really sorry, who are you?"
Bucky's eyes widened with horror, quickly recomposing himself seeing your confused expression. He dropped your hand, immediately adding space between you both, offering you comforting smile before heading out of the door.
"Let me get the doctor" He didn't want to worry you, keeping a steady voice as he spoke before speeding down the corridor as soon as he was out of sight. He wasted no time informing the others about what had just happened, the team all patiently waiting outside of your room while the doctor checked on you.
"Will she be okay?" the words came tumbling out of Bucky as soon as Dr. Cho finished running a few tests, shutting the door behind her, letting you rest. He'd been pacing up and down the hall like a changed animal the entire time, only stopping when he heard Dr. Cho gave his shoulder a comforting squeeze.
"Her memory will come back eventually but until then it's important things are calm for her. Between the hits she took and the medication, she doesn't remember much from the last 2 years. You have to remember, throwing too much information at her will set her back so do your best to keep things the way she'd understand"
It wasn't going to be easy. There was no time line for when your memory would return and you had just joined the team two years ago. You didn't remember anyone, having no recollections of all the memories you'd built with them, nor remembering any of the friendships you had. As soon as you were discharged, you took the first day to rest in your room, not knowing that Nat had cleaned out all memories of Bucky so you wouldn't feel more confused.
After sleeping for most of the day, a man knocked on your door and introduced himself as Tony Stark, the very Iron Man. You couldn't recall too much but the name rang a bell; you knew he was the main person for you to go to if you needed anything. His first task was to take you around the compound, introducing you to various members of the team.
You met Nat and Clint training together in the gym. Sam had been tinkering with something called Red Wing. Steve had welcomed you with a warm hug and Bruce had been working away in the lab. Tony continued his tour, walking you through the kitchen when your eyes landed on a familiar face from before.
"And whose that" You felt your face heat up as you pointed over to the handsome man that has been by your bed earlier in the day, still feeling his soft touch on your skin.
"That's Bucky, or Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes" Tony stated, smiling at the way your eyes lingered on the soldier for longer than necessary. "Here, let's go say hi"
Tony sauntered over to where Bucky was nursing a cup of coffee, the bags under his eyes growing from a lack of sleep but that didn't stop him from throwing you a bashful smile when Tony introduced brought you to him.
"Barnes, this is y/n, she's joining our team soon"
"Nice to meet you doll" Bucky shook your hand with the utmost care, the pet name he had just for you rolling off his tongue with ease. "Let me know if you need anything"
You felt butterflies at the smirk the soldier threw your way before making his way over to the gym, the blue eyes twinkling with something you couldn't quite place. The rest of the day went by smoothly and later that night you accepted the teams invitation to join them for dinner and then later a movie night.
You were aware that you'd sustained an injury which was affecting your memory; what you still didn't know was how much of your memory was missing. You felt nervous as you made you way to the dining table, everyone sitting in their designated spot, chatting away while passing dishes to each other.
Before you could quietly retreat to your room, you locked eyes with those familiar baby blues, a smile growing on his face. Bucky got up from his seat, noting how anxious you looked, understanding seeing everyone together would be overwhelming when you didn't remember any of them. He knew exactly how that felt and there was no way he was going to let you ever feel even an ounce of that.
"I hope you're hungry, doll" Bucky spoke to you softly, not bringing attention to where you'd backed up against the wall in hopes of not being noticed.
"A little" You lied, the rumble of your stomach giving away that you were starving.
"Would-would you like to join me out in the garden? I'll bring some food out for you" Bucky offered, hoping you'd feel less overwhelmed with a bit of space.
"Yes please, thank you Bucky" You shyly smiled as he stepped away to get you some food, taking both of your plates outside to eat under the soft glow of the moon. You appreciated that he didn't bombard you with questions; the both of you eating in comfortable silence until it was time for the movie. All the anxiety you'd anticipated feeling disappeared into thin air when Bucky made some space for you to sit beside him. He picked a section of the room where you'd be able to sneak off undetected if you wanted to leave early.
There was something about the Sergeant that made you feel safe. You felt loved by everyone but with Bucky it was just different. You felt safe around him. You trusted him. You didn't know him all that well and yet whenever he was around, you knew you didn't have to worry.
There were days where your anxiety would be at an all time high, worried about why you were getting vivid flashes of random memories and terrible headaches that made you nauseous. In those moments where you felt so lost, so out of control over your own thoughts, Bucky would ground you, just being around him making you feel better.
You couldn't understand why you felt so safe around a man you barely knew but you found yourself seeking him out more and more, desperate for more of his kind words, gentle touches and soothing voice.
He really was the sweetest.
-
It killed Bucky. His heart was hurting. He was a stranger to you and it shattered him, wishing he could kiss and cuddle you every night and tell you he was so glad you were okay, that a part of him nearly died when you didn't wake up. Everyday he had to bid you good night with nothing more than a smile, so badly wanting to hold you tight in his arms instead.
None of that mattered right now.
Not when you needed him the most even if you didn't know it.
He was going to do whatever it took to get you better, taking care of you every step of the way in the best way you needed until you remembered. He could tell by the way you giggled, by the way you smiled, that even if you didn't remember everything, there was always something between you both.
He'd never give up on you no matter how long it took.
-
"Shit" You hissed, dropping the mug of tea you were sipping on, the cup shattering on the floor with a crash. Searing pain felt like it was splitting your head into to, your hands clutching onto your throbbing temples, squeezing your eyes shut, the headaches you'd been getting happening more frequently.
You'd cut back on the medication you were taking, which had actually helped with regaining some of your memory but it also meant you'd go through bouts of pain without anything to help it. Flashes of a mission gone wrong streamed through you memory between fiery throbbing, even the soft day light overwhelming your sense.
"B-Bucky!!" You cried out, your knees buckling as you slumped onto the floor, blinking back tears as another wave of pain passed. You didn't need anything else but you needed your Bucky, the only person you felt felt safe with, the person you'd loved for all these years, the man who was by your bedside for days on end after you didn't wake up-
"Doll? Fuck, y/n, whats wrong sweets" Bucky found you curled up in a ball on the cool kitchen tile, sweeping you up into his arms and holding your head against his chest, his arms covering your face from the light, while his cool metal arm was pressed firmly against your forehead to ease the pain. "M'here y/n, you're okay, you're okay"
He rocked you, not moving from the floor while whispering in your ear, hoping the pain would pass quickly.
"Jamie, it hurts" You whimpered, clutching onto his Henley, the scent of his body wash calming you down. Bucky froze, not saying a word, his heart hammering against his chest at what you'd just called him.
Could that mean-
"Do-do you want to go lie down sweets?" Bucky spoke carefully, feeling you nod, still staying tucked against him. He carried you up to your room, only to have you shake your head as best as you could, wanting to go to his room instead.
"Just want to sleep for a bit baby, please?" you pleaded with him, hardly realizing the tears that were now streaming down his face as he made his way down to his room instead. He was your Jamie, your baby, you were finally coming back to him. Bucky pulled back the covers, setting you down carefully before climbing in with you when you tugged his wrist. Your eyes were still closed, the throbbing in your head slowly dissipating though not gone entirely as you snuggled against his chest, letting out a content sigh.
"Bucky?"
"Yes doll"
"I remember"
-
Bucky stirred awake to the sound of a whimper, his brows knitting together into a frown when he felt your body tremble in his hold.
"What is it baby?" Bucky's deep sleep laced voice carried through the darkness as he pulled you closer, soothing your sniffles. "Why are you crying darling, c'mere"
"Y-you didn't give up on me" Your emotions got the best of you, remembering everything from the moment everything went dark, to the panicked voices around you to the way Bucky had stayed by your side through it all, nursing you back to health while his own heart was hurting.
"Never doll, I'd never give up on you" Bucky said sincerely, kissing your forehead while stroking your hair, "How could I when I love you to much"
"But I-I didn't remember you-you still love me?" you whispered, feeling guilty that it had taken you so long to regain you memories and feeling more guilty that you couldn't remember Bucky for so long.
"Y/n, angel, I'd love you no matter what, do you have any idea how badly I wanted to tell you that for these past few weeks? That's all I wanted to do baby, just hold you and tell you how much I adore you-
You couldn't put into words how much love you had for him in that moment, cutting him off with your lips pressed onto his. The kiss grew more needy, hands desperately grabbing each other; you needed Bucky to know just how much you loved him too, feel every bit of what you couldn't say with words.
"Baby, let me- Bucky was ready to take care of you but that wasn't what the night was about. Not after all he'd done for you.
"No" You shook your head, gently pushing Bucky to lay on his back, straddling yourself on top of him, "Let me take care of you for taking care of me" you murmured against his lips before pressing them against his heated skin, tracing your tongue along the column of his neck. "Please Jamie, let me show you"
"D-doll-I-I can-
"Just let me Sergeant, please" You shimmed out of your oversized t-shirt before slipping your thumbs into the waistband of his briefs, puling them down, leaving him perfectly bare under you. Bucky wasn't typically a shy person but the way you gazed at him with such love made him blush, his thighs tensing when you settling yourself between them.
"Sweetheart you don't have to-oh-f-fuckkk" His words melted into a deep moan, feeling your lips wrap around the swollen head of his cock, your tongue probing his slit, lapping up every bit of precum that dripped out.
You worshipped his cock with your mouth and tongue, making him feel pleasure like never before, your hand softly rubbing and rolling his balls. You pulled off with a pop just to dip your head lower, nursing on his heavy sack, the slutty, needy moans he was letting out growing louder.
"B-Baby, g'nna cum if you don't stop" His thighs spread apart further for you, back nearly arching off the bed as you licked a thick stripe from his balls to the tip of his cock, crawling back up his body to line your soaking cunt up with his length.
"Please y/n" Bucky blinked at you with glassy, lustful eyes, rutting his hips up to feel more of you, his hands flying to your thighs, needing to touch you.
"Anything for you baby" you cooed, gasping at the feeling of his tip catching against your hole, throwing your head back as you began to sink down on his cock, the both of you moaning together at the feeling of him stretching you open.
You began to grind your hips down on him, your clit rubbing against the curly hair at the base of his cock before slowly picking you pace up, your hands resting on his chest for leverage.
"Feel's so good princess" Bucky's eyes rolled back as you started to bounce up and down, practically squealing each time you slammed yourself back down, obscene squelching noises filling the room.
"You deserve it sergeant" you whimpered, letting Bucky's hands roam your body, grabbing and pinching your nipples, your tight cunt squeezing his cock.
"C'mere baby, c'mere please" Bucky pleaded, pulling you down to his chest and wrapping his arms around you, planting his feet against the bed so he could fuck up into you, "Fuck that's it, mark me up!"
Bucky could feel you nip and suck on his neck hard enough to leave bruises, your words starting to slur as you both got closer and closer to your highs.
"F-fuck I love you!" you cried out, biting down hard on Bucky's shoulder as you started to cum, the head of his cock hitting your g-spot with each thrust, his pace growing sloppy.
"I-I love you princess, I love you so much-God m'gonna cum-fuck-s'so much for you-HNGG" He clung onto you like his life depended on it, shoving his cock in as deep as it would go, ropes of his warm spend shooting into you.
"I love you so much Jamie" your pussy clenched around his softening cock making him jolt, the both of you panting, pressing light kisses on sweat slicked skin. "Fell in love with you twice Sergeant"
Bucky blushed before throwing you a cocky smirk, still feeling happiness beyond what words could explain having you in his arms again.
"I'll always love you" Bucky whispered before pulling the covers up over both of you once again, staying deep inside you as you started to drift off to sleep, "No matter what"
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