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#so I thought I could read these instead to get some inspiration
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𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄
𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭: 𝟖
Click here to read the first part.
Summary: You and Soldier Boy want to create a family and move on from everything, even the Vought, but you also know that he has to face Homelander one last time to keep his vow to Butcher. However, nothing turns out as you had hoped.
Pairing: Soldier Boy / Reader
Warnings: light smut, angst, language, sexual tension, teasing
Word Count: 5814
A/N: English is not my first language.
This is inspired by the song 'Remembrance' by Memoria Futuri.༊
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Your fingertips reached out the eagle symbol as your hands moved over the hard plate on his chest while you remained seated on his lap. Soldier Boy continued to watch every move you made. As the minutes went on, his grasp on your stomach grew softer, and you started to question your ability to truly influence his thoughts over Cate and other things. You hoped you would be able to go back inside his heart and that he would be able to love you without missing the times that you were reluctant to remember.
You wanted to make things right because you felt a strong draw toward him, even if you weren't sure how.
You were cool with it if he wanted you to Temp-V so he wouldn't force your mind to surrender you to the merciless hands of another Supe. You were obviously anxious to discover your dynamics with him, but you must have done it many times with him. You were curious about how he treated you in bed. The idea heated your cheeks. 
As if sensing it, he remarked in a playful tone, “What are you thinking now?”
“Nothing,” you said. “Just us.”
Your answer warmed his heart. If he couldn't remember every detail of the times you had spent together, he would say it was deja vu. But you were back on his lap, telling him that all you could think about was him and you. You sounded precisely the same, as if you were deliberately recreating that same moment, so he wondered whether he was right to think that you were different. But all memories were forgotten, and here you were in his arms. 
You made an effort to approach him more closely than you had previously, and you inquired, “Are you okay too, though? Instead of focusing on finding Cate and forcing me to recall things, considering extending my time.”
He said, “On one condition.” His hands seemed softer now, like if he could pull them back at any second. 
“I already accepted taking that thing you mentioned, Temp-V.”
“There is one more,” he said with determination. His expression was serious. 
“What now?” You sighed. He was constantly asking something more.
“If you can't remember a single thing in a month, you will agree to get help from Cate.”
You instantly said, “No way!” and were irate that he hadn't even given you six months. You had doubts; he cared about your feelings much. “You're being cruel. Let me have four months.”
With a tone of rage, “Fuck no,” Soldier Boy tightened his hold on your body. “One and a half.”
You sighed, seeing how quickly he was growing furious. “You're asking too much from me, you know.” There was something different about his rage. 
“How it's too much when I want the woman I loved to come back to me.”
The way he utilized the past tense made your body tense. Your mood fell as you realized that, despite your best efforts, there was still some distance between you. Your palms touched the eagle symbol on his chest and then went gently down to the belt, which had a star symbol on it. Soldier Boy felt regret after realizing what he had just said, but instead of offering an apology, he said nothing that would have made you feel even worse. 
You were reaching out to him, and he was reaching out to you, but your efforts were going in separate directions. Why did he find it so difficult to accept you as you are? Was the difference between the old and new you really that much? You questioned if you were really that annoying.
You muttered, “Give me three months then,” without responding to what he had just said. There was a hint of disappointment in your voice. It was difficult to control how you were feeling.
With annoyance, Soldier Boy examined your face and inhaled deeply. “One and a half. That's all I will give. Discussion is over.”
“No.”
“For God's sake,” he murmured in frustration. You began to become enraged with him for his impatient manner since he was being so persistent. At least he could acknowledge some of your decisions while you were being so kind, even if he didn't like your new version.
You scowled and tried to get to your feet to break free of his hold, but his hands stopped you with ease. Soldier Boy drew you closer to his body with a serious look, saying, “Stop moving.”
You placed your hands on his shoulders and said, “You stop being a stubborn asshole.” Then, with a rapid motion that brought your body even closer to his, you gasped, “Ow!” as his iron belt hurt your stomach.
Soldier Boy instantly released his hold on you. His expression was one of perplexity, as though he hadn't realized what he was doing. You questioned how you managed to stay with him for so long given how harsh he was and had such a temper. 
“Language.” With a hint of irritation in his tone, he playfully responded, “Show some respect to your man. That's what happens when you don't listen to me.” He replaced your body back on his lap. He looked over your stomach and raised your t-shirt a little higher to see if you were hurt. It burned a bit, but there was just a slight scretch. 
For a split second, you felt like a foolish young girl because of your excitement at his remarks. “I wonder how I survived with you,” you muttered once more as you stopped physically battling with him. Soldier Boy's fingers lightly touched the small mark on your stomach, giving him a disappointed expression, yet his expression was serious on the other side. “I should have been with a regular man who would respect my choices.”
He got frustrated that you brought up being with another man instead of him and remarked, “Watch your mouth,” as he let your t-shirt fall in a rough manner. “Respect the decisions you've made? A man is a pathetic and useless pussy who can't fix anything if he just lets go of everything when his woman experiences memory loss.”
“Or?” you said, trying to lighten the mood by lightly teasing him. While you were still on his lap talking to him about your future together, you realized it wouldn't be a good idea to argue with him. “And I'm not something to be fixed. You must know how thick your skull is.”
With a little smile, he studied your face and body till your cheeks reddened. You tried to get away from him slightly, but he held on closely. You stiffened up as his fingertips continued to linger on your skin and gently moved into your t-shirt. 
“What were you saying? Now, what happened? Do you need me to remind you of the other thick parts of my body that you found most pleasing?” Soldier Boy inquired, a sly smile playing on his lips. It was apparent that he was enjoying your response to him. You could feel the hardness of him beneath his suit as he rubbed your body against it. His mouth was so dirty that it made your cheeks flush crimson.
You whispered, “Don't change the subject,” without saying anything more. Your pussy had other plans, even though you tried not to stare at his massive member beneath you. “Will you allow me enough time? Four months seems like a reasonable amount of time.”
“No way.” He said it in a more controlled manner this time. You knew he was briefly looking at your body as his hands and fingers caressed your skin and held you tightly to his body. There was desire in his eyes; you could tell that.
Instead of disturbing you, though, it unexpectedly thrilled you. It seemed as though there was a magnetic pull between you or that your bodies were attempting to reunite in a more intimate manner. 
“That would be enough, and it benefits you the most,” you said. 
He arched an eyebrow at your refusal, chuckling. “In what ways will it benefit me?” Then Soldier Boy took a serious attitude, although it was clear that he was amused by your attempts. 
You stated, “If I don't love you back the way I had loved you in the past, you can tell my emotions were fake or something.” Even though you knew it was a cheap move, you still felt like you had to try it. 
The look on Soldier Boy's face shifted, as if he gave it some real thought. You might sense there was a brief moment of little lack of confidence if you didn't know how much he knew about himself. Nonetheless, he was undoubtedly the most attractive and powerful Super. 
“I know you love me already, and when you said you did, you said it sincerely.” There was no debate after his sharp remarks. “It doesn't matter if you remember or not.”
You dared to challenge him even though it wasn't a smart move. “How can you be so sure, and why so stubborn if it doesn't matter?”
“Because I can tell when you are lying. They are not the same thing,” he replied. 
With a cunning appearance on his lips, he watched you cautiously as your hands slid gently over his suit. You could have chuckled at how patient he was now, in spite of his intolerance only moments before, if you hadn't felt his hardness beneath you. 
You posed a lighthearted question, “Can I change your mind a bit?” You wanted him to be unconscious of how much this was fun for you, but you both were into playing a little. There was an overpowering need for discovering your balance with him. 
Your hands returned to his shoulders after carefully grazing each and every inch of his suit. As he stared at you and did nothing except hold you close, you felt a kind of joy emerge in your chest. Soldier Boy was the one who was closest to you and was willing to let you do everything you wanted to do him, even though you had known Butcher and the other guys for a very long time. You knew it was different with him.
“I'm not sure. You have to give it a try,” Soldier Boy grumbled, returning his hands to your hips. “You must know I'm not very easy to convince.”
“I see that,” you winked at him. At least you knew just how stubborn he was without needing your memories to return. However, you were equally determined about pursuing what you wanted. 
Soldier Boy couldn't resist chuckling when he saw how much you were already enjoying. For a little while, you felt as though you knew him as well as he knew you, and everything between you was normal. 
You said, almost in a whisper, “I want to bargain,” shifting slightly on him despite the fact that your cheeks were burning. If he acted more stubbornly and pushed you away, you would be quite embarrassed. 
To your astonishment, though, his hands kept stroking your hips—only more forcefully this time. Instead of harming you, he was once again showing his dominance to you. 
When you noticed he was considering it, you asked again, your cheeks heated, and you started to move on him a little. “Can we negotiate?” 
“Yeah,” he murmured, seemingly disconnected from what you had to say, and instead he stared at your body. 
That's when Soldier Boy turned to look at you. His eyes were staring at you intensely. You trusted him when he said he missed you. You were there with him, comfortably seated on his lap. You weren't uncomfortable or anything even a day ago. It just felt right to be with him.
Soldier Boy smirked and gave you a quick ass squeeze. “Show me what you can do to convince me,” he urged. Although your eyes became wide, you were determined not to allow Cate to touch you and fuck your brain's balance. 
You weren't sure how far you would go without Temp-V at the time, and you didn't know how much he would go far. You had at first wanted to speak with Butcher. But there has to be a way to get him interested enough. 
You shifted slightly on his lap, one hand caressing his neck and hair, the other gently touching his huge bisceps. Your lips parted in surprise and desire as you felt his erection under you. Even though you had both stated that you were not interested in having sex before you remembered him, here you were, unable to get your hands off of one another as if you were meant to be together forever. 
You remained motionless, yet your lips were almost in contact. All you could do was stare into his eyes. He continued to hold you, the mock on his lips disappearing as his hold on your hips grew stronger and stronger. 
“How about...” you muttered. “Four months?” 
“Fuck no,” he responded, giving you a firm squeeze to move on him. 
To give you adequate space, Soldier Boy widened his legs a little. As you moved, you could feel his hands tightening around your thighs and his breathing becoming heavier. The strength difference between you made you a little uneasy, but you would have told him the moment his touch began to hurt. 
He suddenly said in a stern voice, “I should have fucked you on that table,” urging you to continue. Although there was quite a barrier between you and his pants, it didn't stop you from getting pleasure. 
Your body and cheeks became flushed from embarrassment, but you persisted and stated, “Give me four months.” 
You could never have agreed to let some other Supe get near you and screw your mind even more. 
You gasped in shock when Soldier Boy ignored what you had said and put a firm grasp on one of your tits through your t-shirt. He had hands all over the place. By the end, you weren't sure if you would be the one to get what you wanted. All of his focus was on his own needs.
“Feel how much you still make me hard, baby,” he muttered on your neck, pressing you on his stiff cock more thoroughly. “We haven't been this way in a very long time. I've so fucking missed watching you move on my cock.”
Longing was present in his final words, along with a lot of yearning. Though you tried to dismiss it and concentrate on the present, you couldn't help but feel a type of sadness tightening in your chest. Though you hoped you missed him just as much as he did, you showed no signs of this feeling. It seemed as though you had never separated. 
At that moment, you found yourself willing to play the game he needed.
In an attempt to give him what he truly desired from you, you hesitated before placing one of your hands on his and making him squeeze your ass firmly. 
“How much did you miss me?” you asked, meeting his gaze directly. Though your lips met his, it was not a kiss. His lips and touch were warm. 
It would be great if you knew his name, but though you tried so hard, you could not recall. You hoped that you had forgotten Butcher's instead.
Soldier Boy's lips began to lick your neck and throat. “So fucking much,” he moaned. It was evident from the way he moved underneath you that this was making him harder than before. 
Between gasps, you proceeded, encouraged by his reaction to your touch and words, “Will you give me four months?” His grip on your hips began to ache a little, but you bit your lip to keep the moment from being ruined until you had what you wanted.
He groaned, “Don't stop,” as soon as he noticed you were moving on him more slowly. His finger was lingering around your trousers and giving you little bruises. You tense up, thinking he's going to rip them off, so you tried to get the speed that Soldier Boy needed.
“You did give me a good hand job there, didn't you?” He let out a moan as you struggled to maintain the same pace. You made an effort to loosen his hold somewhat with your hand, but he didn't seem to be listening. 
“Given how long it's been, you would let me fuck you raw right now, wouldn't you? Wouldn't you allow me to fully fill your tight pussy and fuck you from behind till you can't move?” You eventually whimpered as Soldier Boy tightened his grasp on your hips and murmured into your ear. 
“Careful!” His hot kisses on your neck were so passionate and intimate that you felt yourself losing yourself in the moment with him as you moaned in pain and stroked his hands to calm him. 
He said, “I'm not even using force; relax,” as if he were at the end of his tolerance. It was impossible to determine if he was very aroused or enraged. Most likely, he had no idea how powerful he was. You came to the realization that using Temp-V was a wise decision. It was risky to be with a supe like him since you never knew if he was aware of what he was doing. 
His lips captured yours with desire, allowing you to slow down and ultimately release his hands from your hips without allowing you to say anything more. You felt a bit more at ease once he released your hips. 
You said, “We need to calm down,” in between kisses. You gave him softer, more tender kisses in return for his fierce, heated ones. It was absurd that you felt safe getting closer to a man you had only met the day before.
Soldier Boy was not your boyfriend; he was a stranger in fact. Someone you couldn't remember. But your heart knew the right path. 
He moaned, “Can't get my hands off of you,” kissing you this time with care and desire. “Fuck, I need to be inside you right now.”
“But I didn't take Temp-V,” you murmured hurriedly. It was difficult for you to make predictions as to how you did it because you couldn't recall your private moments with him.
“So?” Not sure what you were hinting at, Soldier Boy stated in a querying tone.
You muttered, “I don't know,” struggling to find the right words. “How.. we used to do it.”
“Do what?” he repeated, but this time he was smirking.
You stopped him and said, “Don't act like an asshole,” but his rough hands were already on your hips once more.
He kissed you hard and briefly in between talking about your attitude, saying, “The first thing you must remember is that'respect' for sure. And yes, we did it many times without Temp-V or anything else.”
You've been rubbing yourself against him and quietly panting. You just whispered, “Hmm.”
Once more, Soldier Boy gained complete control over your body and forced you to rub up against him while murmuring, “You wouldn't believe how many times I've fucked you without Temp-V.”
As gentle fingers ran through your hair, you muttered, “Was it good enough for you?”
“Perfect,” Soldier Boy responded with honesty.
“Protection?” you asked once again. It was difficult to comprehend what kind of power imbalance there might be between you and Soldier Boy during such times. He wasn't even aware how hard he grasped your hips until you warned him. 
“No,” to make it short, Soldier Boy's brought your body as close as his as he possibly could. You scowled as you saw his expression change. His voice had lost its tone of amusement and had become harsh. 
“Why?” 
“I'm a supe. There's no way I... could get you pregnant. Our DNA's are built differently.” Oh. 
Expressing verbally, a sort of rage entered Soldier Boy's heart. He couldn't recall the last time he had given an explanation for his inability to complete something. Even if he didn't intend to have children at that moment, it hurt his pride as a man to be unable to get you pregnant. He repeatedly filled you in a single day and continued to do so for months, but you were never able to conceive.
You said, “Okay,” in a whisper. Though he had made it plain, he did not explicitly state that the reason was that you were weaker than him. You were unable to overcome the anguish that was around your heart like a glass.
You couldn't stop thinking if the person you used to be had any plans to have a baby with him. You were startled that the thought didn't even slightly worry you as your mind raced with images of you, Soldier Boy, and a tiny baby. On the contrary, it kind of excited you. But it looks like the concept would remain a far-off fantasy that wouldn't ever come to pass. 
“So,” you began, hoping to get the conversation to go somewhere else. Your hands hesitantly touched his chest, then his iron belt, making contact with the star sign. “How about our negotiation?”
“Two months,” he said emphatically, as if nothing could make him reconsider at that very moment. 
If you weren't sitting on his lap while he stared at you longingly and with anticipation, you would have giggled at his inflexibility. You wanted to take some time and give it your all, even though you were aware of his earlier statements that he wouldn't love you in this way. 
You reached between his legs with your hands down. You could feel him tensing beneath you as your palms found his hardness through his jeans. He began to loosen his hold on your body when it became too tight since he clearly didn't want to harm you. 
“Two months is not enough,” you told him, lightly stroking his hardened cock with your palm against his trousers. 
With a swift moment, Soldier Boy shifted your positions and with an escaped gasp on your lips, you were under him, on the bed. He gently pushed your hair from your face and placed himself between your legs. Your eyes widened with surprise as he took your hand and put on his cock, making you to rub him through his pants.
Neglecting your words, Soldier Boy said, “Take it out.” He was already waiting for you to do something. “Now.”
Excitement flooded your body, so you followed his orders. After giving him a few more rubs to torment him, you unzipped his pants very slowly to get him more thrilled, though messing with a Supe wasn't a smart idea. 
“I thought you didn't want to touch me until I remembered everything,” you stated. “Why did you say it if you didn't mean it?”
“I decided to change my opinion, and why not? We used to bang five times in a row,” he snapped back. He truly never felt embarrassed over anything. Your body became hot when you attempted to figure out how you could take him so many times. 
You whispered, blushing at his bold remarks, “Don't you have a filter on your mouth?”
Soldier Boy said in your ear, “You should hear me when I'm inside you, swetheart,” as you finally succeeded in unipping his pants with trembling hands. You couldn't help but notice the longing on his face, his messy hair, and his hot breath. He was terribly good-looking and masculine. 
With a slight roughness in his voice, he thrust his hips toward your hand and seemed eager to continue. 
“Are you thinking about how much time you'll give me?” You inquired lightly, refusing to take him out of his suit no matter how many times he ordered you to continue. Soldier Boy shot you a cold stare right after. 
“Depends.” 
“On?” 
“Your little handiwork performance,” he stated with a brief smile that offered you his desire. 
With a hesitant smile back, your hands started to work on his pants to remove him. It was a play that you were both on. You two knew what was happening probably made you more thrilled than he was, and he would stop whenever you wanted him to, so it wasn't like he was pressuring you into doing anything you didn't want to. That was ingrained in your bones and feelings. 
You struggled to free him from his suit and were a little afraid of seeming foolish. Once some time had passed, you gave him a helpless glance. All Soldier Boy did was smirk mischievously over you. 
You said, “You could give a hand,” as your hands were a little aggressive on the material. 
“I thought that was what you're going to do.”
You surprised yourself by pulling his head to yourself and kissing him, refusing to let him torture you any longer. Thank goodness, Soldier Boy responded to your kisses instantly, and it didn't take long for his to take control and start making coarse noises within your mouth. 
You had no idea who was making louder noises or which of you was kissing each other harder. You were just aware that he was pressing you against the bed. He pulled back, allowing you a moment to catch your breath. During that moment, his lips remained on your neck, giving you a few gentle nibbles that left you whimpering.
You could feel the desire between your legs as Soldier Boy's hands frantically tugged at his clothes to get himself free. You were unsure if he would take you there.
Your phone rang in your pocket, and you realized that he was about to pull his cock out of his pants. As Soldier Boy was ready to pull down his pants, he grumbled in displeasure and halted, ignoring the phone ringing in your pocket. 
With a frantic “Oh, wait,” you attempted to shove his body away. 
Then Soldier Boy quickly took the phone from your pocket and glared at the screen with enraged eyes before letting you react. He stood up, leaving you on the bed by yourself, still gasping after the passionate interaction you had. You could tell who was calling by the way he looked across the room—it seemed like he was waiting for the right opportunity to enrage Soldier Boy even more. 
“You're a dead man,” muttered Soldier Boy as he held the phone up to his ear. “You and your worthless team.” Though it was barely audible, his voice was full of promise. 
Whispering, “Give it to me,” you hastily rose from the bed and attempted to take your phone from Soldier Boy's hands. 
It was obvious that Butcher was getting on Soldier Boy's nerves, even if you could only make out some of what he was saying. Butcher always had an ability of getting under people's skin. 
“How many lies you've told her, I don't know, but one thing is certain. You and your pitiful pets had best hide out in whatever shithole you are now in, because I'm going to kill you all.”
Soldier Boy eventually handed you the phone, ignoring everything Butcher was saying to him. As you waited for Butcher to speak, your pulse raced with thoughts and confusion, but you were at your breaking point. 
“I've called you a hundred times since yesterday,” you immediately complained. It was clear from your voice that you were disappointed. 
You paced the room, ignoring Soldier Boy as he observed you intently and zipped back his pants and straightened his suit. 
“We needed to exercise caution since he managed to catch you. Are you alright?” Butcher questioned it as if it were a common question. You were getting tired of his insensitive attitude already. 
You answered him harshly, “I need to talk to you in private,” ignoring his question.
“This is not the place for you to come. Sweetie, you'd put us all in danger.”
It was difficult to ignore the awful weight of rejection from someone who you still called friend and remembered with a heavy heart. You were aware that, for the most part, Soldier Boy was being truthful at that point. You were dumbstruck at how easily Butcher cast you aside while continuing to discuss safety.
“In somewhere else, of course,” you remarked coldly. “He will not follow me.”
You looked at Soldier Boy to see how he responded, but he was already seated and preoccupied with smoking weed aggressively across the room. Even though he occasionally sent you glares, you wanted to think he wouldn't break his promise to you. 
“Don't be so sure, honey,” Butcher sighed, unsure of how to handle the situation without putting the squad at risk by speaking with you. 
You said, emphasizing every syllable, “He's treating me good. We can meet in the house we all used to live in. I'll go there by myself. Alone.”
Butcher said, “Fine,” not wanting to talk about it any more. “Make sure you come here by yourself, baby,” he asked. Butcher owed you a conversation, even if he wasn't eager to meet you or risk running into Soldier Boy again when he really intended to kill him that much. Especially not after what he had done to both of you.
Of course, there were other topics to talk about.
Feeling relieved that he finally agreed, Butcher informed you when to meet and hang up without saying anything else. You were far too hurt to talk with him without coming out as fragile. After standing for a while staring at the screen of your phone and doing nothing, you turned to face Soldier Boy, who had already begun to drink. Then he looked at you. It was difficult to determine this time if his expression was one of hatred or rage. It was unclear if it was directed against Butcher, you, or both. 
You muttered, “I need to talk to him alone,” which gave you nothing to talk about. It was too much for you to handle.
You felt lost and alone once again.
Soldier Boy said, “Come here,” in a quiet voice. He sighed, seeing your mood drop and your smile fade. He detested seeing you so distressed and heartbroken. It would be simpler if you could just remember, but you were terrified. He couldn't figure out why.
Soldier Boy made you sit on his lap once again and gave you a tight embrace as if he could see what you were going through. Your head was on the cool material of his suit, where the eagle emblem was supposed to be. His warmth was relaxing and soothing.
You said, “He wants me to go to him alone,” hoping that he wouldn't provoke another argument once more.
Surprising you, he simply said, “Okay.”
“Just because I'm not going there with you for this time doesn't mean I won't murder him,” Soldier Boy firmly said, “He will pay for what he did to both of us. He and the others will die for that.”
You wanted nothing bad to happen to Butcher or the others, in spite of all that he had done to you. You knew you would never stay with Butcher again the moment he accepted the lies he'd told you. It did not, however, imply that you wanted his or the others' deaths. The only thing that would be lost would be trust, and that would be enough price.
You stated, “I don't want to talk about this right now,” implying that you didn't want to discuss Butcher or anybody else. You felt his muscles tense beneath your touch, so you decided it wouldn't be a good idea to tell Soldier Boy that you didn't want Butcher to die. 
He kissed your hair, and you closed your eyes with relief. He murmured, “Fine,” with a soothing voice. His roughness didn't make his arms and kisses seem unsafe.
You said, “But I can't stay here too,” keeping in mind that you would have had to see the Seven, Homelander, and their heinous deeds every day. The idea itself was dreadful. “I don't want anything related to the Seven or Vought.”
Soldier Boy inhaled deeply and remembered the last night you spent together, months ago, when everything was okay. At least your hatred for Vought and Homelander did not change. That was good enough. Although he too had no desire to interact with them, he was forced to do so due to the circumstances. For the time being. 
He continued, “We'll talk about such things later,” in a harsh voice, his hands lightly brushing your back as though he were trying to comfort you. 
“Where will I be staying?”
Soldier Boy scowled at your thoughts of living alone. “Obviously, not here.” As if he would let you go. 
With pride, he declared, “I own a place. We’ll stay there.” Though it didn't, it would have been preferable if things had gone as you two had hoped months ago. He wished he had purchased a house while you still remembered him. He would like to see your reaction.
You inhaled with gratitude upon learning that you would not be residing in Vought Tower. You could tolerate this as long as you didn't encounter Homelander and everyone. You were aware that Soldier Boy wouldn't allow you to go elsewhere, apart from him. Whatever had occurred or would happen, you had to confront it.
“Have you thought about the amount of time you'll give me?”
Soldier Boy took another look at the problem and groaned at your intransigent demeanor. He said, “Two and a half months,” playing with your hair and curling it with his fingers. “Not a single day more.”
“Make it three.”
“You are always greedy, aren't you?” He teased to lighten your mood. “Fuck it. Fine.”
“Will you tell me your name?” You asked in a low voice, realizing that you had never addressed him by name and recalling how disappointed he was when you couldn't recall it. You forced yourself to recall it till your brain hurt, but it was just impossible. You felt horrible about not being able to recall even one letter. 
You said, “Jack?” in an attempt to predict what he was going to say before he did. “Kevin? Eric?” 
“Fuck, quit saying other men names. Who the fuck are they?” He abruptly became irate and cut you off; jealousy was clearly taking over. 
“I don't know anyone with those names.” You said, playing with his possessive gaze as you raised your head to look at him. “Are you jealous?” 
“I am,” he declared firmly. The roughness in his tone made you giggle.
“You can forget everything—my face, my name, and even our memories—but you never forget that you are solely mine. You belong to me in your every version.”
⋆⋅☆⋆☆⋅⋆──────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──────⋆⋅☆⋆☆⋅⋆
A/N: I guess that was a filler chapter. Please let me know what you think. Comments are keep me going. ♡
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hirunoka · 1 year
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I feel like a curious and dumb character in horror movies. You know when they read a book they shouldn't be reading and summon something unholy? Yeah, that's what reading demonology books for your silly little fiction makes you feel like especially if you do so at night, even though it's basically a dictionary 😂 it's funny when it's morning though.
John, the things I do to write about you, I swear. Never in a million years I thought I'd be reading *checks the book names again* The Dictionary of Demons: Names of the Damned and The Encyclopedia of Demons and Demonology
And yet, here we are. I don't even know if this will help and give me ideas, but we shall see. It feels like reading for college work.
Also turned out there is a supposedly fallen angel named "Barbiel" and yeah, not gonna lie, it made me laugh
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blee-bleep · 1 year
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so like i binged-read 55 chapters of vinland saga and
holy shit, i was put off with how incredibly sexist it was, but the story was a little TOO GOOD to be dropped. and i only stopped because my retinas could only take so much.
Askeladd, you dropped this my king 👑
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cake-writes · 9 months
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Just This Once
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Pairing: Kakashi x Female!Reader
Warnings: smut, breeding kink, he gets lost in the sauce frfr, situationship… ish?, this man wants to RUN, disorganised attachment style (primarily avoidant), penis in vagina sex, teasing, edging (accidental), unprotected sex, creampie
Word Count: 5.3k
Summary: Kakashi discovers that he has a breeding kink. It's kind of a spiritual experience.
Inspired by @rookie98writes's fic Leave It On
Kakashi isn’t used to the strange sort of domesticity that comes with being in a... whatever this is. It’s not quite a relationship. A situationship, maybe. He’d say it’s something more than friends-with-benefits, but the two of you aren’t really friends, either.  
You come together every now and then. That’s all. Like two passing ships in the night. 
So why is he standing in front of your stove, cooking dinner while you sort through the pile of unopened mail on your kitchen table? Why did he offer to water your plants while you were gone? Why does he want to do anything for you? 
Kakashi knows what it’s like trying to play catch-up after some time away from home—two months, in your case. He’d knocked on your door a few minutes ago with the intention of returning your key, and he must have caught you right after you got back from the store if the two bags of groceries on your kitchen counter were any indication. 
You looked so dead on your feet that Kakashi took over from there, unprompted. But now, as he stirs the pot of flavourful soup simmering away on the stove, his mind sees fit to wander.  
What the hell is he doing?  
He’s getting too attached. That’s what he’s doing.  
It’s that time again—time to cut and run, just as he always does when things start to become complicated. Kakashi makes a habit of ending any potential connection before it can even start, because he can’t afford to lose anyone else. He can’t get hurt if he never lets anyone in. It’s easier that way. 
“I need to schedule my injection,” you mutter to yourself as you read through one particular letter. Then you sigh and toss it back down onto the table, before you lean back in your chair and rub your tired eyes. “We should probably get used to using condoms again until I can book an appointment.” 
Your birth control must be overdue, then.  
“Sure,” Kakashi answers, feigning unbothered. The two of you used condoms in the beginning, but after a particularly gruesome mission that nearly saw him home in a box, Kakashi stopped reaching for the bedside drawer, and you stopped asking him to.  
He should have known then that he was getting too attached. 
Still, it’s your body. Whatever you want. He’ll end things in the morning either way. 
As Kakashi samples a bit of the soup he’s minding on the stove, pausing for a moment to add a bit more salt, it suddenly sinks in – really sinks in – what could happen if the two of you aren’t careful.  
He could get you pregnant. 
A jolt of arousal shoots through him.
Kakashi doesn’t want children, not now, not ever, which is why it doesn’t make a lick of sense that such a thing would turn him on. He likes the idea of his seed taking root inside of you. He might even enjoy it, the imagery his mind conjures—you bent over for him, begging him to give you a baby, your pretty yukata hiked up around your waist…  
His clan crest embroidered on the back of it.  
Kakashi swears.
You startle, looking over at him in alarm. “What happened? Are you okay?” 
“I’m fine,” he lies. Then he proceeds to play it off like he burned himself, but he isn’t fine. No, that single thought, that single fantasy, scares the complete and utter shit out of him—but it turns him on even more, and that’s so much worse.  
He’s already too attached. 
Kakashi doesn’t do feelings. He has them, of course, much like any other person, but he doesn’t let them show very often, and he certainly doesn’t talk about them. He won’t say in so many words that he cares; instead, he shows you through his actions alone. 
His knees brush the underside of your thighs as he settles between your legs, bracing himself with one hand beside your head.  
What a vision you make, spread out for him like this.  
Your lamp had blown when you went to turn it on, leaving the streetlights to illuminate your features in a sickly hue of yellow-green. It isn’t romantic in the least, but he can’t help thinking that you’ve never looked more beautiful than in this moment—maybe because it’s the last time he’ll ever get to see you like this.  
The sight of you, so needy and wanting, fills his chest with something bittersweet.  
The tomoe of his sharingan spins lazily as he memorises the curves of your body, the muss of your hair, the rise and fall of your chest as you work to recover from your first orgasm of the night. His fingers are still tacky with your essence, and he smears the residual wetness over the head of his cock.
“You should wear a condom,” comes your breathy whisper, but you make no move to stop him. Your eyes almost seem to glow as you peer up at him in the dark, worrying your lower lip between your teeth. 
“Mm. Do you want me to?” 
His question hangs heavy in the air. The only things Kakashi can hear are your soft breaths and the sound of his own steady heartbeat, which quickens with every silent second that passes.  
You want to say no, he realises.  
He wants you to say no. 
“I like it better without,” you answer quietly, and the implication isn’t lost on him. Not when you look up at him with those big doe eyes, like you don’t know the risk. 
Because there is a risk, and he knows it. Kakashi hasn’t been able to stop thinking about it all night—wicked thoughts, terrible thoughts—thoughts of filling your fertile womb with his seed, thoughts of watching your belly grow round with his child, thoughts of seeing his clan sigil stamped between your shoulder blades like a mark of ownership. 
His.  
Against his better judgement, Kakashi does exactly what he shouldn’t do. He agrees.
“Just this once.”  
Just like he says every other time—except every other time, there's never been a risk.
Your coy little smile prompts him to lower down onto an arm and settle more of his weight on you. Kakashi dips his head to kiss you indulgently, savouring the taste of you, the feel of you beneath him. He kisses you like he hopes to convey just how much he missed you while you were gone, like you might be able to taste the unspoken words that linger in his mouth. 
He kisses you like he means it—and he does. That’s why he needs to go. 
As his tongue twines with yours, Kakashi fills you in a slow, beautiful glide that wrenches a whimper from your throat. He knows he should go easy on you, but he relishes in the rapid flutter of your walls as you struggle to adjust to him after so much time apart. A surge of masculine pride washes over him, tinged with a hint of guilt for stretching you open like this. He isn’t exactly small, after all, but you take him so well. 
To ease any potential discomfort, he smooths his hand up the silky skin of your thigh in a soothing caress, before he trails gentle, placating kisses along your jawline. “Is this okay?” Kakashi asks, voice low, only to be rewarded with a particularly strong contraction that makes his toes curl. 
“More than okay,” you sigh. 
As a test, he shifts his hips. When Kakashi hears your breath hitch, he knows that you can handle more.  
He starts slow, rocking into you sensually, but he already knows that he isn’t going to last. It’s been just as long for him, and you’re tighter than you’ve ever been.  
“God, Kakashi, you feel so good.”  
So do you. Kakashi sucks a bruise on your neck in response, if only to muffle the sound of his own pleasure when your perfect cunt clenches around him again.  
He needs to pace himself, or he’ll finish too soon—but then you ask him for more, and what else can he do but oblige you?
He speeds up, not overly so, just enough that both of you can hear the slick, sloppy sounds of your lovemaking. The smell of your arousal permeates the air, and he’s tempted to have another taste. 
Later. 
“You’re so wet,” he murmurs into your ear. “Did you miss me that much?” 
Maybe he’s reassurance-seeking – just a little – but your answering whine tells him what he already knows. 
He’ll miss this. He’ll miss you. That’s why he needs to go. 
Kakashi doesn't want to think about that. He just wants to enjoy what little time with you he has left.
“Stay with me,” you rasp. You’ve always been good at noticing when he’s stuck in his head, but right now, Kakashi can’t help but wonder if you’ve just read his thoughts. You see through him so easily. It’s one of the things he likes about you. 
“Sorry,” he says with genuine apology, leaning in to capture your lips again. You let out a pleased hum into his mouth and lift your thighs up a little higher—an offering, one he’s more than happy to accept, even if he doesn’t plan to reciprocate your vulnerability.
It’s selfish, he knows. 
The new angle does something to him, or maybe it’s because he's well aware that it would be even easier to fill you up this way. He reaches deeper like this, and the tilt of your hips would perfectly hold his cum in place, increasing the chances that it’ll take. 
He wants it to take. 
Kakashi exhales a long, shaky breath. He shouldn’t want that as much as he does. He shouldn’t want it at all.  
“Close?”  
Yes, but he’s not going to tell you that. Kakashi pulls back to look at you, only to find you gazing up at him like he’s hung the moon. It makes his heart ache.  
He stamps it down. “I could be,” he teases lightly—a non-answer. “Are you?” 
When you open your mouth to respond, however, he snaps his hips forward suddenly to make you trip over your words. “I—shit,” you swear, and his eyes shine with silent laughter. Your own narrow playfully as you add, “I could be too, if you keep that up.”  
“Really?” 
To pick on you a little, Kakashi withdraws from your tight heat more slowly than he has all night, agonisingly slowly, until only the head of him remains inside; and then he lingers there, purposely, until the stirrings of impatience start to take you over.  
It’s cute, the frown you give him, the pout he sees beginning to form. “Don’t be mean,” you tell him sulkily. 
His lips tug up at the corners, revealing a hint of prominent canine. “Maa, I didn’t realise you were in a rush,” Kakashi drawls. “And here I wanted to take my time with you.”  
Before you can read too much into what he’s just said, he slams home. Hard.
Your startled gasp brings on a flicker of self-satisfaction deep within. Kakashi relishes in the knowledge that only he can make you feel like this—especially when he starts to fuck you in earnest, prompting you to fling your arms around his shoulders.  
“F-Fuck, Kakashi, oh my god—” 
“That’s it,” he encourages gently. “Hold onto me.”
He likes the closeness of it, the intimacy.
You cling to him like your life depends on it, which brings about a funny feeling in his chest that he can’t quite shake—something warm and gooey and affectionate.  
Kakashi stamps that down, too, and traces the line of your neck with his tongue, kissing and sucking at your sensitive skin until you shiver. Seeing your throat so littered with love bites unearths something within him, something primal that he’s always refused to name. He likes seeing the marks he’s left on you. He wants them to mean something.
He wants them to mean that you’re his. 
He’s too attached. 
To distract himself from what he intends to do in the morning, Kakashi picks up the pace, flesh smacking against flesh as he drives his hips into yours, fast and rough, exactly how you want it.  
It won't last long. He’s too worked up. 
Kakashi knows he’ll come before you do if he continues like this, but when he tries to slow down, you dig your heels insistently into his ass. 
“Don’t stop, please don’t stop, please—” 
“I’ll have to pull out soon,” he says raggedly, even though the thought of finishing in you already has him ready to blow.
When Kakashi feels you lock your ankles behind him, he nearly does.  
“I want it inside,” you whine, your breath fanning hot over the shell of his ear.  
His thoughts screech to a halt. You want him to come inside you, knock you up— 
“Fuck,” he curses, stopping abruptly, buried all the way to the hilt. His cock throbs wildly, desperate for release, forcing him to tightly grip the the sheets above your head in order to stave it off. 
If he moves right now, he’s done for.  
When you make a quiet, frustrated sound deep in your throat and wiggle your hips, Kakashi barely manages to hang on. He can feel that tell-tale flutter inside of you, the one that indicates exactly how close you are, but he’s closer. His breaths come out in short, sharp pants as he tries to hold himself together.  
You finish first. Always. 
“Don’t be mean,” you say again, but you sound a little more petulant this time.  
Kakashi lets out an exhausted sort of laugh and presses a wet smack of a kiss against your cheek, making you giggle. “You like it when I’m mean.”  
“I like it when you’re nice,” you clap back, voice breathy. 
Kakashi hums knowingly. “All right. I can be nice.”  
Then he pulls back just enough to pepper your face with kisses, and you squeal in delight, though it soon tapers off into a moan when he starts to trail them down your throat, each one more sensual than the last. He palms one of your breasts, gently squeezing, tweaking a nipple— 
“Come on,” you whine, digging your heels into his ass a second time. 
No more teasing. You want him to be nice.
You inhale sharply when Kakashi picks back up where he left off, this time with quick, shallow thrusts that target your g-spot. He smooths his hand down your side, savouring the softness of your skin, then he slides it in between your bodies to rub your clit in just the way you like—the way he remembers you like, because he’s too fucking attached. And sure enough, when your hips buck from the added sensation, he knows that it’s working for you. 
“If you—If you edge me again, I swear to god—” 
Upon hearing the indignation in your voice, Kakashi laughs softly. “I won’t.” 
Then he remembers that he won’t have a chance to edge you again. Not after tonight. 
His jaw tenses at the reminder. 
“Fuck, I’m so close,” you gasp, holding onto him, needing him, which pulls him right back into the present. “Come with me. Please?” 
Kakashi bites back a groan and slides in deeper, readying to do what his body craves. 
No. He can’t come with you. He’d have to finish inside in order for that to happen. 
And just like that, he’s back to teetering on the edge. The filth his mind conjures nearly proves to be his undoing—a vivid image of your tight, wet cunt wringing out every drop of his cum until it takes, tying you to him, making you need him. Making you his. The threat of it simmers under his skin, but it’s starting to feel more like a guarantee. 
Get her there, then pull out. 
Kakashi repeats those words in his head like a mantra, over and over, like it’ll ensure that he lasts, and it works—at least until you start to move your hips in time with his thrusts. You meet him at the perfect angle, sucking him deep on every stroke, allowing him to slide just beyond your cervix and into that spot that sends your voice into a fever pitch. 
A choked sob escapes you as you rake your nails down his back, leaving red lines in your wake. The sting of it only sends him higher, and he sinks his teeth into the junction of your neck and shoulder to prevent himself from blowing too soon. 
“Right there, Kakashi, right fucking there—” 
Right there, so deep within you that if he came right now— 
He groans when he imagines what would happen, and it all ends with his baby in your belly and his family crest on your back. It shouldn’t turn him on as much as it does, yet he fucks into you with purpose, now—hard, deep, powerful thrusts that knock your headboard into the wall. 
Kakashi knows exactly what that purpose is. The primal part of his brain won’t let him forget it. 
“Yes, just like that, fuck me, make me fucking yours—” 
He kisses you to shut you up, because if he hears another syllable, he’s sure to fill you to the brim. It’s not a gentle kiss, not now. He holds your head in place with a firm grip on your jaw, shoves his tongue into your mouth, and still, he recites his mantra. 
Get her there, then pull out.  
Get her there, then pull out.  
Get her there, then—  
You jerk your head away to gulp in a breath of fresh air, chest heaving from exertion, and Kakashi’s eyes sweep over your face for any sign of discomfort. What he finds is the opposite, and he drinks in the pleasured scrunch of your brows, the hazy flutter of your eyelids, the kiss-swollen state of your lips. 
Watching your muscles tense and strain as you struggle to keep your eyes on his is one of the most intimate things he’s ever experienced. “Come inside me,” you beg, and he can hear the desperation there, see it written all over your pretty face. “I need it, I fucking need it, Kakashi, give me your cum—” 
“I’ll give it to you,” he chokes out. Anything for you. Anything you want. 
The way your fingers wrench into his hair belies a hunger that matches his own as you drag him down for another kiss, messy and insistent, demanding that he make good on his promise to pump you full. He can feel the ripple of your inner walls as you come undone, feel the painfully tight squeeze of your legs around his waist, holding him there, ensuring that he stays; and never in his life has he felt so overwhelmed.  
He can’t pull out. Not now. Not when you’re so willing to milk him dry. 
Kakashi kisses you with everything that he is as he shoves himself impossibly deep inside of you, acting solely on instinct to drown your cervix in hot, sticky spend. He lets out a sound of pure male satisfaction that you eagerly swallow down, your tongue massaging his in tune with every erratic jerk of his hips as he empties himself inside of you, painting your insides white.
It feels good. It feels right. 
He’s too attached. 
He doesn’t care. 
As he comes down from his high, all Kakashi can think about is how fucking risky it is, what he’s just done, which only ruins him more when the post-orgasm clarity finally hits. 
Why the hell did he do that?  
What the hell did he do?
Your thighs tremble and shake, a sign that he’s done his job well, though he feels no pride in it—just a growing sense of panic.  
He needs to go. He needs to go right now. Not tomorrow. Now. He needs to get the hell out of here and never look back, right fucking now.  
Then he hears your quiet sob, and his heart leaps into his throat. Kakashi jerks his head down to look at you, and when he sees the tears rolling down your cheeks, he actually does panic.  
“Did I—Shit,” he quickly pulls out to check on you, more attentive than he’s ever been, “Did I hurt you?” 
It wouldn’t be the first time he’s accidentally hurt a woman during sex, but he really should have taken it easier on you. He probably went too deep, hit your cervix too hard. 
“No,” you sniffle. “I’m fine. I just... I really missed you.” 
Fuck. Don’t say that. You’ll make him want to stay.  
His eyes soften as they trail over your features – the colour of your irises, the slope of your nose, the curve of your lips – and he gently smooths your tears away with the backs of his fingers. “I didn’t hurt you?” 
You shake your head and offer him a watery smile. “I also came really, really hard,” you add matter-of-factly, and he huffs out a relieved laugh. It’s hormonal, then. “They’re happy tears, Kakashi. Calm down.” 
Teasing or not, someone telling him of all people to calm down is an otherworldly experience. The phrase lands strangely, and for the first time since he came to see you tonight, his thoughts quiet down to a dull background murmur. 
They’re happy tears, you said. 
You’re happy with him. 
He’s happy with you, too. He doesn’t want to go. 
You frown, then, and lean up onto your elbows to look at him more closely. “What’s wrong?”  
Kakashi can’t be sure what you see in his expression to warrant that sort of question, but the fight finally leaves him. He sits back on his heels and drags a hand down his face, feeling defeated for a reason he can’t explain.  
“I was just...” Happy, for a moment. Happy to be with you. “Worried,” he finishes lamely. He can’t look at you, not when he feels the heat of a blush creeping up his neck. 
You laugh and gently cup the side of his face, turning him back towards you. “Okay. Well, I’m fine,” you pat his cheek in playful reprimand, “but I am leaking all over my clean sheets, and it’s your fault, so...”  
That draws his attention. When Kakashi sees the creamy mess spilling out of you, his flaccid cock twitches with interest even after he remembers why his stomach is in knots.  
“Sorry,” he says hoarsely, transfixed by the sight. 
He wants to do it again.
He shouldn’t want to do it again. He feels fucking crazy for having done it once already, when the two of you aren’t even in a relationship, let alone in any way prepared for a child. But again? A second time? He’d have to be certifiably insane. 
“It’s fine,” you reassure him, and Kakashi wonders how the hell you can possibly be taking it so in stride. He came a lot. There’s so much of it dripping out onto the sheets that it’s starting to create a small puddle under your ass, and there’s even more inside of you—a lot more, judging by how hard he came. 
It might take. It might seriously take, and you think it’s fine? 
“You’re doing it again,” you tell him, and his eyes snap back up to yours. He’s in his head again, you mean. Then you chew your lip for a moment, hesitation evident, before you ask carefully, “You’ve been acting a little… off tonight. Is everything okay?”  
Every single one of his instincts is telling him to run. That’s where this conversation always leads, but he’s not ready for it. Not yet. Maybe not ever. 
He swallows the lump in his throat. “I’m fine.” 
When you frown at him, skeptical, Kakashi shifts uncomfortably under your gaze.  
“Okay. I won’t pry. But, um, I’m here. You know. If you ever need to talk.” You say it a little awkwardly, like you aren’t sure if he’d be offended by the suggestion, and the worried crease between your brows only grows at whatever you see in his expression. “Or... Or not.” 
You laugh nervously, then, and shift away from him, only to wrinkle your nose when more of his cum oozes out of you.  
It’s cute. You’re cute. 
“You said it’s fine. Why?” The question leaves him before he even thinks it through, but it’s too late, now.  
“What?” 
This wasn’t the first time he’s come inside of you, not by a long shot, but it’s certainly the riskiest. “I finished inside. Aren’t you upset?” 
“What do you mean? You finish inside me all the—” Then you stop, and your brows shoot straight up onto your forehead. “Wait, is this about my birth control?”  
“Well, it’s overdue, isn’t it?”  
You stare at him for a prolonged moment, and he can almost see the gears turning in your head. Then your nostrils flare. “Are you kidding me? You thought my birth control was overdue, and you still—” Scandalised, you slap him on the arm. “Kakashi!” 
Oh. Well. It must not be overdue yet, then. 
Of course you wouldn’t let him come inside if there was a chance that you might conceive. He’s a fucking idiot. 
“That’s so bad! What if you got me pregnant?” 
A lick of heat shoots up his spine upon hearing you give voice to what’s been on his mind all night. Kakashi stares at you, wide eyed, and blushes all the way to the tips of his ears.  
You study his face for a moment, before you purse your lips, looking a little troubled. Or pissed off. He can’t really tell. “I mean... Did you want to get me pregnant?” 
“No,” he rushes to say, his cheeks burning hot because yes, he did, but not for real.  “No. Not at all. I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking, and...”  
And how the hell is he supposed to explain himself? Neither of you are exactly vanilla, you’ve explored a number of kinks together, but this is something else entirely. Then again, a breeding kink would make the most sense out of any, considering it stems from a biological urge to procreate. 
But would you even believe him if he said he only gets off to the fantasy of it, and not the reality? Because if a woman ever said that to him, he’d get the hell out of dodge as fast as he could. 
A sly smile tugs at your lips, then, a knowing smile, and Kakashi quickly averts his eyes to the window, embarrassed. 
“You like it, don’t you?” you hum, seductively walking your fingers along his bare shoulders. “You like the idea of knocking me up.” 
Refusing to look at you, Kakashi clears his throat, trying to ignore the arousal that comes on from your suggestive tone. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 
“No?” The sheets rustle as you reposition yourself, and then, when your fingers delicately wrap around his cock, he inhales sharply and bites the inside of his cheek. “Then why are you so hard?”  
And he is, too. He’s already fully erect and ready for another round, and he knows that there’s no way to lie his way out of it anymore. As you start to work your hand over him in slow, sensual strokes, up and down, coaxing the answer out of him, his head drops back. “Because,” he rasps.  
The sheets shift again, and then you crawl into his lap. He welcomes you gladly, splaying his hand over your lower back to steady you, though he still can’t meet your gaze. He’s too embarrassed. 
“Because why?” you hum. Kakashi lets out a pleasured sigh as you kiss and suck your way up the side of his neck, stroking him steadily, before you purr into his ear, “Because you want to give me a baby?” 
A soft sound of approval rips out of his throat, and his cock twitches into your palm. “Don’t—Don’t say that,” he pleads. 
“Hm? Why not?” 
To hell with it. No sense in hiding it anymore. “Because I might actually do it.” 
“Yeah?” Your teeth tug playfully at his earlobe before you pull back to look at him, and Kakashi finally wills himself to meet your sultry gaze, humiliated though he is. “You know,” you muse, “I don’t like condoms for a reason. I wonder why?” 
The breath leaves his lungs with a whoosh.
Oh, he should have known. You’re just as filthy as he is. Of course you’d have a breeding kink, too, though he’s exceedingly grateful that you’d kept it to yourself until now. You’ve never been shy about sharing the things you enjoy, which means you probably figured out how he’d react. That’s the only explanation. 
He likes that you understand him as well as you do. 
He likes you.
“I think I might be able to guess,” Kakashi says knowingly, a smile playing at his lips. When he leans in to kiss you again, all he can think is: maybe it’s not a bad thing to be too attached. 
-
Snippet #1:
“You said it was overdue,” Kakashi tells you pointedly.
“No, I said I needed to make an appointment,” you correct, and he can see that you’re struggling not to laugh. “I still have, like, a week left on it. Ish. It doesn’t hurt to be careful.” 
While you cook breakfast for the two of you, Kakashi wraps his arms around your waist from behind and traces the shell of your ear with his tongue.  “What if I don’t want to be careful?”  
He feels the shiver wrack your body, but then you do laugh at him. “Down, boy. Three rounds wasn’t enough for you?” 
“Oh, I don’t know...” Kakashi pulls you back against him, allowing you to feel the answer for yourself, hard and insistent against your ass. “You tell me.” 
-
Snippet #2:
Kakashi hides his face in your pillow, feeling distinctly vulnerable without his mask. “Don’t tease me,” he groans, muffled. “I have a delicate constitution.” 
You cackle at his discomfort, like the cruel woman you are. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. But I’m really, really curious.” Then you hum thoughtfully. “Do you want to know one of mine?” 
He lifts his head just enough to reveal one curious eye. 
You squirm a little, then, like you’re finally starting to realise exactly how embarrassing it is to talk about. “I, um...” A pause. “So, you know how...” Another pause, and you take a deep breath. “Okay. I like to imagine that I'm being used to—to repopulate a clan, I guess. Just, over and over. Lots of kids. But not for real.” 
He feels another jolt of arousal at your admission. 
Looks like you’re on the same page, then. 
Then Kakashi leans up onto his elbow to regard you properly, and then he lifts an eyebrow, as if to point out how closely that particular fantasy hits to home. 
That’s when you seem to realise who you’re talking to – the sole remaining member of a clan that could probably stand to be repopulated – and your eyes go wide, before you nearly trip over yourself to add, “It—It has nothing to do with your clan, specifically, Kakashi, it’s just—” 
“A fantasy,” he finishes for you, amused. 
 You worry your lip between your teeth and nod. 
“Well,” Kakashi says, considering his answer for a moment, “I might have imagined that, too. Specifically.” Then he gives you a roguish grin, intending to pay you back in kind for your teasing. “How many children do you think would be enough for my clan to be sufficiently repopulated, hm? I’m thinking eight.” 
Mortified, you bury your face in your hands. “Oh my god! Eight?” 
Payback’s a bitch. “Well, I was originally going to say ten, but—” 
When you squeal in embarrassment and yank the blankets over your head, Kakashi barely manages to stifle a laugh.  
A/N: This is the first thing I've posted in a hot minute, so your feedback would mean a lot - please let me know what you think :)
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highvern · 5 months
Text
Honey
Pairing: Kim Mingyu x f!reader
Genre: smut
warnings: strip tease, kinda public sex?, unprotected sex, creampie, simp mingyu, established relationship, dry humping (in a hot tub), fingering, face fucking/oral (m. receiving), porn with feelings, mingyu has a thing for being called husband, breeding kink
Length: ~2.8k
Note: inspired by the two seconds of mingyu in lalali. sorry @gyuswhore next time dont let your man act like a fool. this is a continuation of Drunk Goggles (Heart Eyes) but can be read as a stand alone! see below for their master list
Drunk Goggles (Heart Eyes) [f,s], Drunk Goggles (Heart Eyes) II [f]
Pre-Drunk Goggles (in order): Peaches [f], Bite the Bullet [f, h], Jealousy [a, h]
Post-Drunk Goggles (in order): Silk [s], Aphrodite [f, s], Discovery [s], Lucky Me [f], adamas et aurum [f], Baby Blues [f]
Summary: The best way to recover from the stress of your wedding and celebrate your marriage? Some private time in the hot tub with your new husband.
m.list
This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked.
Twenty four hours.
You’d been married for twenty four hours and can barely keep your eyes open from exhaustion. Not because of your husband and the vigorous but romantic sex he insisted on having on every surface of the cabin your friends chipped in to rent as a wedding present. No, you’ve barely managed to touch each other beyond agonizingly fatigued kisses and sentimental cuddles. 
Last night you both barely managed to make it into the bed before passing out cold. This morning, you found Mingyu nodding off at the stove after insisting on cooking breakfast while you showered. A few lazy gropes during breakfast (Mingyu’s hand barely toeing the line of indecent on your thigh) and a hot kiss before he left the bed was all the action managed in the first day as a newly wed couple. 
It’s still a funny word: husband. For so long husband was hypothetical; a distant idea that someday you’d have one. Maybe. If you found someone you could put up with long enough to start considering them as a long term partner instead of a fling.
And then Mingyu went from an acquaintance to boyfriend in a matter of months and the hypotheticals started shaping into realities with shocking speed.
The amorphous face of your hypothetical-husband slowly started to resemble Mingyu’s day after day. Week after week. And now, after months of planning, hair pulling, and a day full of tears, Mingyu is your husband. 
And he’s waiting for you in the hot tub just outside.
It’s the middle of the day but time ceases to maintain importance on vacation. But after a late breakfast you both agreed the best thing for your aching bodies was an afternoon relaxing in the hot tub until you both pruned like raisins. 
You spot the head of dark hair belonging to your fiance husband through the glass sliding doors leading onto the back porch. Beyond him is a full view of the lake, sparkling under the sun. It’s a deception of warmth but a breathtaking sight nonetheless. 
But nothing compared to Mingyu whipping around at the sound of the door opening with a pleased smile. Until his eyes drop to your bikini. 
“Why are you wearing that?” he asks with a pout. 
Glancing down at the black two piece, you pout back. “I thought you liked this one?”
“I like whatever you wear, but the point of being married is that we can walk around naked as much as we want.”
“We already do that.”
“And it’s one of my favorite traditions,” Mingyu says, resettling across the tub to watch. “Now get that off and get over here. I miss you.”
You reach behind your back, you tug at the string of your top until the knot unravels. As the fabric slackens around your chest, Mingyu’s eyes follow with rapt attention. He’s seen you naked thousands of times but never fails to act like it's the first again. Your nipples peak under his stare, sensitive as the fabric brushes against them as you fling the top to the ground. 
“Now we’re the same,” you say with a coy smile, closing the space to the hot tub in a few short steps.
“Wrong.” He fumbles for a second, hands disappearing under the surface. The water sloshes around as he battles to pull off his shorts and drops them to the deck with a splat. “The only thing I want to see you in are those rings.”
“Mingyu!” you gasp mockingly, ignoring the heat pooling between your legs in favor of dragging out the game. “What if someone sees?”
No one will. The cabins on either side of yours are dark and empty, and most of the houses skirting around the lake are so far away no one could possibly decipher what you two were doing in the shade of the porch awning anyway. 
“Then they’ll see how beautiful my wife is.” 
Blood rings in your ears at the way he says it; fond with a hint of pride. Like he still can’t believe you said yes in the first place. Like it was ever a question if and not when.
Mingyu whines pathetically as you scramble to remove your flimsy bottoms without flourish. It's too cold to stand around and do a full strip tease even if your husband’s eyes burn right through you. They join his swimsuit at the foot of the tub before you slip into the gentle embrace of the water.
Your ass barely meets the seat before Mingyu pulls you into his lap and kisses you. Arms circling around his shoulders, you sink a hand in his hair and tug until he welcomes your tongue. Your thighs straddle across his, bare skin on bare skin only interrupted by the silky feel of water. Even that doesn’t manage to disguise the electricity between your bodies. Or the fact that Mingyu's cock is already hard and waiting for use.
“Mmm. Missed you,” he whispers into the warmth of your cheek before descending across your jaw.
Bones turning to jelly, you melt under his attention like always. Mingyu loves to make you putty with little effort. You tip your chin up to make room for his tongue over the dip between your collarbones. “I was gone for five minutes.”
“Too long.”
He punctuates the complaint with a harsh suck of your nipple. It puckers between his teeth, sensitive and needy for attention. The sting serves as the perfect distraction from his hands sliding lower to palm your ass, fingertips grazing your entrance. 
“Fuck,” you gasp. Your hips search for more pleasure, sinking back until Mingyu stretches you around his knuckles with practice ease. The water washes away any arousal lingering but you won’t give up the prod of thick fingers for a little discomfort.
“Can you say it?”
Even before it became official he loved hearing you say any declaration that he belongs to you: boyfriend, fiance, and now—
“Husband.”
Mingyu groans into your chest as you whisper his new epithet, exploding with renewed vigor across your neglected breast. Indulging in the way his cock twitches against your thigh at the word, you curl your hips into the pressure. It's a difficult choice: Mingyu’s fingers filling you just right or the tip of his cock rubbing against your clit. 
Moving back and forth, the water sloshes over the sides of the tub as you greedily try to keep both. It’s hotter knowing Mingyu gets off on it too; the way you always want more, more of him, his hands, his mouth, his cock. Even rutting across his thigh after he cums until it hurts can make him hard again if you’re enjoying yourself.
Sinking a hand down, you tug at his cock, jerking him off right against your folds. With a tight fist, you crumble Mingyu to pieces with a few short strokes. The effort is rewarded with bites into your bottom lip and a hand at the base of your spine.
“Wait, shit,” he gasps. He’s closer than he wants to be. Clear in the tightness of his shoulders and pinch around his nose. Nothing gets him hotter than the memory of your first time together, when he used you pussy to jerk himself off; coating your panties in his cum. You know he still has a picture from the second time he did it saved on his phone after all these years.
Mingyu’s lips don’t leave yours as he stands, carrying you to the lip of the tub and sitting back down. He doesn’t let you slip to your knees in front of him at first. You’re trapped with lewd kisses and the flex of his fingers into the dip of your waist until he calms. 
“Let,” kiss. “Me,” kiss. “Taste,” teeth. “You.” 
Mingyu bucks into your ass at the offer before letting go. He’s never said no to a blowjob and he won’t start now given how much you like it too. 
But he’s cocky, arms resting on the edge of the tub as he presents the nude visage of his front like a dare. It’s bold given his habit of devolving into a needy mess at the first hint of satisfaction.
Your hand keeps pace while your lips ghost down Mingyu’s neck. His nipples stiffen with quick attention, almost more sensitive than your own but that isn’t your goal right now. Your mouth starts to water when you reach his stomach, tracing the ridges and dips with all the time in the world. 
Just as Mingyu gets the first syllable of protest at the tip of his tongue, you suck him between your lips with cruel enthusiasm.
All the kinks in his armor become the highlights: a coarse lick where he leaks, a tight fist at the base, your other hand cupping lower until he moans loud enough to echo across the lake. For your own sick pleasure, you back away enough to tap him against the flat of your tongue, pink against the tip of his cock, eyes on his until Mingyu is forced to look away or risk painting your face in white far too soon.
“Slow down,” he commands. More of a beg since his head tips back when you take him until the curve of your throat objects. “Fuck–Jesus Christ.”
You arch your spine, ass displayed like a prize. Another one of Mingyu’s weaknesses. You can count on one hand the number of times he’s let you suck him off without reaching over to feel how wet you get from the weight against your tongue. If he chances a look down again (inevitable) you’ve provided a great surprise.
His cock falls from your hold long enough to rasp, “Fuck my mouth.”
At the end of the day, who is Mingyu to deny his wife what she demands for?
Timid with the first thrust like always, Mingyu plants a hand on the back of your head, fingers woven into your hair for his own sanity. You like to surprise him by filling your throat as quickly as possible just to see Mingyu squirm. Nothing makes you blinder to your own limits than his pleasure. But years of taking him make it easy to work around. 
He’s trying. The effort is in the twitch of muscles bracketing your shoulders, the gentle tugs of his fingers, the way Mingyu can barely bite back the flow of curse when you choke around him deep in your throat. Your jaw is already growing sore but no obstacle against the desire to see Mingyu shake.
Then Mingyu does something that shocks you.
Your hand pauses its work under the gentle squeeze of his. Mouth still full, you flash your eyes open to find him staring down in awe. For a second you wonder if it's just because time had been short the past few weeks between wedding planning and traveling. But then he pulls your hand away from his cock and towards your mouth, and you finally realize what caught his attention.
The rings. The plain band that matches the one circling his finger and the special one he spent months trying to keep a secret.
Mingyu kisses across your knuckles, thumb tracing the metal and stone like it’s a wonder. He did the same motion over and over again last night: walking back up the aisle as husband and wife, at the reception as you both greeted guest after guest while glued to each other, in the car ride to the cabin across the center console, before you both fell asleep still fully clothed. 
Without any words, you’re pulled up into his lap for a searing kiss.
“I love you,” he sighs. His tongue slides against yours, slick as he tastes the mess you happily lapped up at his crotch.
“I love you too.”
You feel it. Feel it more than anything in the world. From the top of your head to the tips of your toes. It shivers down your spine, and blushes across your front. The effect of those three words, simple but so much more, seems almost too much for the daylight just beyond the awning of the porch. 
Out of the water, the cool air prickles along your back, forcing your chest to cave against the cold but Mingyu is there to warm you up with the stretch of his cock. 
You hide the satisfaction in the column of his neck, teeth razing wet across the vein there. He tastes like chlorine and that expensive cologne you jump his bones for. The idea of leaving a bruise like some teenager where everyone can see settles an ache in your core. It’s the first time Mingyu is inside you as your husband and it nearly rips apart the fabric of your being,
In a frenzy, your hips rut before Mingyu can orient himself to the snug feel of your walls. The angle is nothing short of cosmic. Clit rubbing against his pubic bone, cock battering that place inside that makes your joints lock. And the stretch after an unfulfilling glimpse on his fingers only burns you hotter.
The slap of your skin against his is an afterthought, background noise to grunts and groans and pathetic whines that meld between your mouths. In the thick of need, you aren’t even kissing. Just panting into one another’s mouth with narrowed vision. 
Mingyu sinks you lower in his lap with a smooth grind. “Tell me how it feels.”
“Like my husband is trying to get me pregnant.” You go cross eyed from the drag of his thumb against your worn bundle of never. Nothing makes him more desperate to please than the thought of you heavy with his your baby. 
No chance it’ll happen any time soon but the sentiment does wonders.
Another hard thrust threatening to leave you bedridden for the next week.“Fuck—please.”
“You’re mine,” Mingyu groans.
Writhing against his grip, sweat blooms at your brow. You can’t manage to respond with more than a cracked whine. Too focused on the wave rushing across the edges of your senses. 
“There! Fuck! Right there, Gyu.” You come in hot, carried by the rough way Mingyu forces you down his cock again and again. 
Nails biting into his biceps, your insides flutter tight, trying to pull Mingyu deeper even if he’s snug to the hilt. Full, deep, stretched beyond belief. Eyes cinched, muscles vibrating, you cum on your husband's cock with a broken grunt you’ll remember to be embarrassed about later.
“That's it, take it.” Mingyu coos with an edge. “My pretty fucking girl, my wife. Mine, all mine.”
Your knees hurt and your legs are numb from exertion and a killer orgasm. But you won’t call it until Mingyu gets his fill too.
“Close?” you pant. 
A hand at your throat is the warning, already knowing your plans to goad him to the edge if he isn’t there already. His thumb cocks your chin up so his tongue can lick the words right out of your mouth. 
A few more weak movements spell his ends. Mingyu cums with a grunt. Muscles tense, stomach caved, you scramble for hold under the threat of slipping back into the hot tub from the rushes of his cock to stuff you full with his spend. You’ll be sore tomorrow from the way he forces your thighs wider, until you’re flat against him, taking it deeper.
A sticky mess grows between your legs, warmly welcomed since the last time you felt it weeks ago. A peek between your bodies gets you ready to go again. But you still crave more. Ringed white around the base, Mingyu twitches inside you again when you clench just to tease him. 
“Love you, love you, love you…” Mingyu chants into your mouth until he goes slack with a long huff.
You find rest in his shoulder. Mingyu rubs his cheek against yours, innocent and domestic. He isn’t shy about most things but after you fuck eachother silly he likes to remind the universe its from a place of devotion.
“Marriage looks good on you.” 
“You too.” You smile. “Now take me to bed, I’m not done with you yet.”
“Whatever my wife demands.”
“That's my good husband.” The hand ruffling his hair is quickly snatched away, giving Mingyu the perfect opening to toss you over his shoulder before heading inside.
--
Taglist: @tomodachiii @cvpidyunho @miniseokminnies @ddaengpotate @arycutie
@gaebestie @primoppang @gyuguys @mine-gyu @doremifasire
@missminhoe @toplinehyunjin @crvs4vldtn @prettygyuuu @sliceofwoozi @bbychocolat
@dokyeomkyeom @yoonguurt @christinewithluv @minwonfairy @idkjustlovingbts @wobblewobble822 @futuristicenemychaos
© highvern. copying/reuploading/translating my work anywhere is strictly prohibited.
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allywthsr · 7 months
Text
WRONG PERSON | (l.norris)
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summary: you send a sexy video to some tinder guy, until you realize you tapped Lando‘s contact instead, you both help the other to finish what you started
wordcount: 2.4k words
pairing: landonorris x fem!reader
warnings: smut!, talking about toys, details about masturbation, phone sex, dirtytalk
notes: inspired by this!!! Tell me what you think, I‘m still scared to write smut, hope you all like this🫣
You were working for Quadrant, it wasn’t like you were some important boss or something, you mostly dealt with customers and sometimes got to plan a video, but Lando still took the time and got to know you. When the whole team went out for dinner, Lando talked to everyone for at least twenty minutes, he wanted to know who was working for him and his brand.
There was no denying you found him handsome, everybody thought he was pretty, but you needed to hide your excitement in your panties whenever he was near you. Not only did he make eye contact every time you two talked, but he also smelled delicious, you wanted to rip his clothes off, the whole time he was near you.
But back to where you were now, laying in bed naked, at almost one am, with your phone in your hand. You were single and desperate, texting with guys from Tinder, who were not worth more than a quick fuck, but you were young and had your needs.
With your phone in one hand, and your left boob in the other, you recorded a small video, where you were squeezing your boob and moaned slightly. You‘ve been snapchatting with a guy you met on Tinder, both of you were horny and needed a release, so why not help each other? You quickly wrote a text to the video, to make it more seducing, ’ You make me so wet…‘ and taped on the slot on Snapchat where he was for the last few snaps, before you could double check that you selected him, you hit sent and threw the phone next to you.
While you waited for his answer, your hand slowly made its way to your pussy, circling your wet clit. With a moan, you teased yourself and kept stopping the sensation in your most private area. When you heard the Snapchat notification tone, you took your phone in your hand and only saw that Lando send you a snap, it wasn’t unusual that he would snap you, you two were streaking after all, but at that time was a little odd, because you were kinda bored and waiting for your guy to reply, you withdraw your fingers from your wet cunt and opened Lando’s snap.
With a gasp, you threw away your phone, the first photo was a normal snap, a picture of his bedroom with some series on Netflix playing, but when you tapped on the screen to exit the snap, a new picture popped up. You could see his hand holding his boxershorts clothed dick, he was hard and big, long and thick. He also wrote a little text, you had to read it twice, making sure your mind wasn’t playing tricks on you, ’was this meant for me, babygirl?‘
You didn’t know what to do, so you did nothing for a few seconds, you didn’t feel horny anymore, suddenly aware of the cold air hitting your still-hot pussy. Should you reply and apologize, saying how you accidentally sent your boss a nude, and look him in the eye at the next dinner? Impossible.
You thought about leaving the country and starting all over again, where no one knew Lando, but that wasn’t a solution either, you had to face him and say that it wasn’t meant for him. But how can you get rid of the image in your head of his dick, the only thing that was roaming through your brain right now was how lucky his future wife would be. With a dick like that, she sure would be happy for the rest of her life.
You excited the snap and took a deep breath, what were you going to say, sorry I send you a nude, but your dick looks nice? No. It took you at least two minutes to think about it and when you took a picture of half your face and started writing a paragraph of apologies, your phone showed you an incoming call.
Lando Norris.
Shit. Your whole body tensed, you couldn’t answer, you just had to pack your things and go, leave London and Lando behind, but something in you didn’t want that, and after what seemed like hours, you did answer the call.
”Hey Lando, look uhm, I‘m sorry I sent you that video, it wasn’t meant for you, obviously. B…But thank you for responding, I mean that picture was nice, but I don’t think that this uhm professionalism between us should be broken. If.. if you want me to leave Quadrant, I‘ll do that.. uhm I’m sorry for sending you that, and I-“
”Y/N, will you stop rambling?“, his voice sounded like he was out of breath, you started shaking when you heard him speak.
”I‘m sorry, for rambling and sending you the video.“
He chuckled, ”Don’t be, maybe you could’ve seen by my response, that I wasn’t mad about it. Sure having your employee suddenly sending you a video where she squeezes her boob and moans, isn’t something I‘d expect, but you have beautiful boobs.“
You didn’t know what to say, so the only thing that came out of your mouth was a: ”Thank you?“, you could hear your heartbeat in your chest, the silence on the other line panicked you.
”But, maybe this is unprofessional of me now, but you left me in a kind of hard situation, Y/N. I bet you’re still wet if your fingers would slide between your legs, aren’t you?“
Your breath hitched, was this for real? Was Lando Norris, your boss, dirty talking to you?
”I..I don’t know, it was a pretty big shock to see you replying, I‘m not as horny as I was ten minutes ago.“
”Then I want you to glide your hand over your boobs and stomach, down to your pussy, I bet it’s pretty, and then tell me how wet you are.“
With a small sigh, you did what he told you, gliding over your boobs and stomach to your pussy, you touched your entrance slightly and felt yourself pulsating, you may not be as horny anymore, but your wetness said otherwise, maybe a part of you already found it hot that Lando actually replied to you.
”Fuck, I‘m so wet Lando.“
You heard a moan from the other line and some sheet rustling, ”Baby, I want you to touch yourself like you would do without me. Finger yourself, rub your clit, do whatever satisfies you. I‘m hard as a rock baby, I need to touch myself too, I wish you were here to do it for me.“
You did as Lando told you, rubbing your clit in circles and feeling yourself come closer to the edge, this whole situation was so hot, it turned you on so badly.
”Please touch yourself, Lando, I wish I was there to help you.“
”I could eat you out until you’re crying and begging me to stop because you would be overstimulated.“
Another moan escaped your mouth and slowly you let your fingers slip into you, which was no problem due to your wetness, but it wasn’t enough, you needed more, thankfully Lando seemed to know what you were thinking when he heard your unsatisfied moans.
”Do you need more baby? Are your fingers not enough, you need my dick to stretch you out?“
You let out whiny and breathy ’yes‘, this situation was so bizarre but hot at the same time.
”Do you have any toys, Y/N? I want you to use a toy on yourself.“
”I..I do.“
”Show me.“
”Can we switch to FaceTime? It’s easier, and I want to see you.“
Lando hummed and muttered a quick goodbye before the screen with the call disappeared, the only thing you could see on your phone now was the picture you took a few minutes ago, and before you could do anything else, the FaceTime call from Lando came in. You answered without thinking about it and you were greeted with a big and girthy dick, and your mouth watered a little. You held the phone up, so he could see your face and your boobs, which he commented with a quiet ’fuck‘.
”Show me your toys, baby.“
You quickly got up and propped the phone against your lamp that stood on the nightstand, while you looked under your bed to fish out the box with your toys. It wasn’t like you were some pornstar and had thousands of toys, but over the years you had collected a fair amount of little helpers.
By now Lando had switched back to his face, so you could see his little beard and his eyes, he kept biting his lower lip, while watching you.
You opened your box and grabbed the first toy you saw, a standard dildo, it was skin-colored and a bit longer and thicker than the normal ones. You showed it to Lando and he groaned, tilting his head back, ”Is that your favorite?“, he asked.
You shook your head and pulled out a pink satisfyer, it was a mixture of a vibrator and dildo, but it also had a clit sucking element. That one was your favorite, you had spent hours with this beauty, and it never left you hanging. ”This is my favorite, you don’t know how good this feels.“
”Tell me about it.“
”It’s so fucking good, Lando. This clit sucking thing? It feels like heaven, it gets me there within a few minutes, the fastest I‘ve ever had an orgasm.“
”I bet I could get you there faster.“
That statement left you with a smirk, only the thought of Lando going down on you, made your head spin, you needed that.
”I can see that you’re imagining it right now, I bet you taste amazing, I would finger you, while lapping at your clit, you would be so full.“
You shut your eyes, and whined, your pussy clenching around nothing.
”What else do you have in there?“
”I have a wand“, you lifted the typical wand and dropped it on the bed, ”I also have a rabbit vibrator, and this“, you lifted another pink vibrator, but this one was smaller.
”You know what this is for, Lando?“
”I‘ve seen it in porn“, he smirked, ”have you ever let someone control it while being somewhere public?“
You nodded, it was a vibrator that you would insert into your pussy and it could be controlled with an app, you‘ve only used it once with someone.
”I was on a date with someone from Tinder, and we‘d been sexting for days and I gave him the app and he controlled it over dinner, it was an experience and I loved it.“
”I want to control it in our next meeting, seeing you tremble over some video ideas is going to be fucking hot.“
Another wave of pleasure rushed through your body, you couldn’t believe you were talking that way with your boss, unbelievable.
”I want you to use that rabbit on you.“
You chuckled, and held the rabbit vibrator into the camera, ”This one?“
Lando nodded eagerly, with a smirk you opened your mouth, dared your tongue out, and licked a long stripe over the part that goes inside of you. After a few licks, you put it fully in your mouth and started sucking it.
You could see how Lando started touching himself again, his eyes closed every now and then and he let out small whimpers. This was your sign that you needed to touch yourself too, so you laid on the bed and flipped the camera to your lower part, where the vibrator was circling your clit. Lando also flipped the camera and you saw his dick that was already leaking pre cum, he moved his thumb over his tip every now and then while moving his cock through his fist, collecting the white fluid. Due to your wetness, the vibrator slipped inside of you with ease, you turned it on and gasped when you felt the vibrations.
”Do you like that? Having your pussy stuffed.“
”Yes, Lando, yes. I need you here next to me.“
”I need you too, wrapped around my cock, you would be screaming and keeping up the neighbors all night.“
With a loud moan, you could feel yourself getting closer to a release, the tip edging your clit made you almost scream and the way you moved the vibrator in and out of you, made you see stars. Lando also was about to cum, he saw that your pussy got wetter and wetter, your fluids squeezing out of your cunt every time the vibrator left it.
”I’m about to cum, Y/N. Show me your face, are you cumming soon?“
You moaned loudly again and flipped the camera, just like Lando did, “Yes, Lando, I wish it was you filling me so well.“
With a loud moan and a lot of curses, Lando spilled his cum all over his hand and stomach, he quickly flipped the camera again, now showing you the mess he created, “That’s all for you, baby, I wish it was inside of you instead on the stomach. Cum for me Y/N, let go.“
While he said those words to you, you felt yourself falling over the edge, with moans and grunts. Lando was sure he never heard something so sexy, those sounds alone made him horny again, he needed to feel you close.
When both of you came down from your highs, you two let out a laugh, realizing what you just did, you had phone sex with your boss, but it felt right and good, and the way his cum sat on his stomach, made you horny again, you needed him.
“You feeling better now?“
“Lando, you’ve no idea, so much better than the weird Tinder guy the video actually was for.“
“I bet, but I still need you, Y/N.“
“Are you in London?“
He hummed.
“Well, my bed is cold without you in it, if you want, my pussy is ready for you, Lando.“
“Send me your address, I’ll be over in ten minutes, you better not start without me, or you’ll get punished.“
Part two
taglist: @millinorrizz @jamieeboulos @loxbbg
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yanderederee · 4 months
Text
Orange Theory
Bofurin Edition
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concept: The Orange Peel Theory is from a viral trend where you ask your partner to bring you an orange. If they bring it to you peeled and ready to eat, it indicates that they're thoughtful and caring. If they bring it to you with the rind still on, it could indicate a lack of consideration.
a/n:I tried sticking as closely to their character colors as I could٩( ᐛ )و I also tried including as many characters as I could, even lesser written characters like Tsubakino/Taiga/Kiryu/lowkey Kaji too lol… I hope you like and agree!♡
⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯✦
Sakura Haruka
Poor boy would be so lost.
“I’m really craving an orange…” you mumbled to yourself.
“There’s some in the kitchen.” Sakura would reply casually, popping another grape in his mouth.
You’re silent for a while. Eventually he picks up on it and looks at you with a raised brow. “What’s up?” He’d ask.
“Can… you bring it to me please?” You’d ask. Sakura wouldn’t mind. He’d simply nod and hoist himself up, walk into the kitchen, and return with two unpeeled oranges. “I kinda want one too…”
He hands you one, distracted by the group chat on his phone as he began to peel the orange in his hand.
You were beginning to give up on the test, looking down at the unpeeled orange solemnly. “You haven’t touched your orange, you okay?” He’d ask, cluelessly.
“Im fine..” you’d reply, feeling silly for feeling so distant.
Sakura knows something’s up, so instead, he leans over, and takes the orange from your hand, replacing it with orange he had just peeled from his other hand. “If you wanted me to peel it for you, ya couldn’a said somethin’.”
Overall; 4/10. He sees you as a person who can do simple things for themselves, and may only feel the need to act more considerate if he notices you having a hard time.
Suou Hayato
The two of you decided on having a movie night at your place, and Suou thought it’d be courteous to bring a bag of oranges with him as a gift.
“You know what they say, oranges being good luck and prosperity.” (I was the one who wrote this and I still expected to proof-read ‘an orange a day keeps the doctor away.’)
Before you even had the chance to ask for one, he’s asking to use your kitchen to fix one up for you.
You agree, trying to watch him from the kitchen entrance. He smiles sweetly at you and politely asks you to wait for him in the movie viewing area.
It’s curious, but you do as he says.
He returns soon with a plate, neatly peeled and decorated.
Also asks if you would prefer a fork, if you didn’t want to risk getting your fingers sticky. It’s a little over the top, but he’s only trying to be considerate.
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Overall: 11/10, He even saves the peels for Umemiya to use as compost. Encourages you to eat the entire plate, but will indulge in one if you insist.
Nirei Akihiko
Nirei asked if you’d like to binge your favorite show that night. As you both stopped by the store to pick up snacks for the binge, you remembered a couples trend, centered around the oranges in front of you.
You bought a couple, the excuse for them being one of your snacks for the night. Sweet Nirei praises you for making such a healthy snack choice, and even inspires him to put back some of his own snacks to live up to your example.
Just as you were about to begin the binge, you got very comfortable on the couch, and batted your eyelashes at your sweet boyfriend. “Can you bring me an orange please? I forgot them in the kitchen..”
Immediately agrees and hops up from beside you and to the kitchen.
He’s very happily humming to himself as he’s concentrating on the orange, walking back to the couch trying to get a good peel started.
Poor Nirei is so bad at it though, only able to peel off little bits of rind at a time. Half way through the first episode, the orange is crudely peeled, and he’s holding a slice out to you for you to eat.
Overall: 9/10, while its poor, he peels the orange with no indication you need him to, and feeds it to you one by one. ♡
Sugishita Kyotaro
Oh no.
Umemiya led you to Furin’s back yard area, eager to show you and Sugishita the fruits(haha) of his labor; a freshly grown baby orange tree.
Sugishita is immensely proud of his senior, and praises him for his hard work. Umemiya sends you two off with only one orange, since he needs to share the few he did receive from this harvest with the others.
At first, Sugishita doesn’t want to eat it. He wants to preserve it for as long as he can because it was something his previous Umemiya grew.
After a few comments like “It’ll go bad soon, you wouldn’t want Umemiya-san’s efforts to go to waste, would you?”
No way in hell would Sugishita allow that.
Sugishita hands you the orange, perhaps too nervous of accidentally crushing the fruit with his immense strength.
If you’re too slow on the take to peel it, he will accept the task. However, his worries are warranted, you discover, when he shares a slightly soft and dripping orange with you.
Overall: 5/10. He’ll initially wait for you to peel the orange, but he’s too impatient and will offer to do it instead. It’s slightly crushed, but that’s okay.
Hiragi Toma
You asked Hiragi to come over and help you with some yard work. Of course he’s happy to help.
During a break from the work, you lazily asked him to bring you an orange while sitting in front of the box fan.
He chuckles, kisses your sweaty cheek, and walks off to fulfill your request.
It takes him a minute, until he asks from the door way, “Can I go ahead and make some juice outta these?”
You blink wide at him, unexpectedly. “If… if you want to.” You mumble in response.
He nods, hustling back into the kitchen, before he begins peeling multiple oranges, and blending them up and straining them to make a fresh orange juice.
He returns with two full glasses and a half pitcher resting in your fridge. “You’ve worked hard today, hopefully this helps.”
Overall: 11/10, one of Hiragi’s love languages is acts of service, and of service he is to you all the time. Mr. “You want it? I got it.”
Kiryu Mitsuki
Sweeet sweet baby.
The two of you are just hanging out in his room, listening to whatever bedroom-pop song he put on while you both scrolled on your phones.
You come across the orange theory while on a social media app; and grin.
“Mitsuu~ I’d like an orange~.” You singsong to your boyfriend.
Kiryu looks up from his phone, and lazily hums. “Good idea~ can you bring me up one too?” He asks.
Your mouth almost hits the floor at his casual tone, but it ends when you see him hoist himself up from the bed, laughing “Just kidding angel~ I’ll be right back.”
Holding one of his many plushies close to your side, you wait for your boyfriend.
Kiryu returns with an unpeeled orange and a knife. The knife takes you by surprise at first, but once he sits at his little table and begins working on the orange, you realize he’s cutting it into sections with the rind on.
He offers you a slice with a lazy smile. Once you take it, he quickly pops a slice into his own mouth, making a cute wide orange smile.
The unexpected action sends you into a fit of laughter, your adorable boyfriend only grinning wider and blushing at how cute you are.
Overall: 10/10 I guess? He loves seeing you smile and actively does things to make you do so.
Kaji Ren
Oop
The two of you will be chilling on the Furin rooftop, enjoying the cool breeze and quiet hours, now that everyone was finally gone.
The only sound coursing through the air was the music escaping from his headphones, which lay carefully by his side, instead of his neck, so you could both enjoy the tune.
A bag of snacks lay between the two of you. You felt a bit peckish, so you glanced over at the bag and spotted an orange. Quickly, you get the idea to test the orange theory.
“Re~n, could you give me the orange?” You ask, feigning your inability to get it yourself as he was closer to the bag than you were.
Kaji looked over and spotted the orange from the bag. He reached over with ease and made a gesture like he was preparing to underhand throw it at you.
You quickly crossed your arms to show you did Not want him to throw it. He considered his options for a second, before huffing, sitting up, and leaning over so the orange was just a few inches from your reach.
‘Damn.’ You frowned. ‘Maybe this wasn’t the right opportunity to ask?’
Kaji noticed the disappointment on your face, but even after staring at you and trying to figure out what was causing your sour mood, he couldn’t imagine why. He gave you the orange just like you asked, and didn’t throw it.
“What?” He asks bluntly, causing you to flinch. “Nothing.” You replied back, closing your eyes to enjoy the evening breeze once again.
However, your answer was unsatisfactory, and your orange was left untouched. He really had no idea what he did wrong.
Kaji walks over to you, and squats to glare at you. “Quit lyin’ ‘n just spit it out.” He’d press. If you kept being stubborn, he’d just tickle you ruthlessly until he got his answer.
“T-the orange..! Aha—it, ehe… it w-was a test!” You yelped. Once you came clean, Kaji would stop just for a second to let you explain further.
Once you explained it clearly for him, his expression only soured further, tickling you even more sternly. You screamed for him to stop but he refused.
“That’s so dumb, of course I care about you. If you want me to peel a damn orange just say so, ‘n I’ll do it.” He huffed, finally releasing you and sitting by your side.
Overall, 1/10. Kaji is extremely caring and indeed will do anything for you, as long as he knows what’s expected of him. He’s doesn’t much appreciate his affections being tested in such a lame way though.
Taiga Tsugeura
Sweet angel child
You agreed to come over to his house and spot him as he did his usual muscle training routine.
Once he’s finally tired himself out, he begins talking about wanting a healthy snack. He’s going through the options he has while raiding through his cabinets.
As he does this, you notice a load of fruit in his fruit bowl. “You should eat a banana Taiga. Would you mind getting me an orange while you’re there, please?” You’d ask him nicely.
He grins as bright as the sun at your suggestion. “Great thinkin’ Y/n!!” He’s quick to grab both the banana and orange from the bowl. Before he can hand you the orange, his grin becomes more mischievous.
“Check this out,” he says with pride, holding the fruit in both hands. Then, with a quick snap, he rips the orange in half.
You’re BAFFLED. mouth agape and simply, STUNNED. Your shocked expression is all he wanted. He laughs hard, and displays the two halves face up, his own face in the middle.
“Cool huh!” He asks, before doing the same thing with the banana. “Want me to break the rest up for ya?”
Honestly, you aren’t sure what to say.
Overall: 7/10. He… does? It? But it’s more because he wants to show off a cool skill of his than he’s doing it for your sake. He also always asks you if you want him to peel your oranges, so… the thought is there.
Tsubakino Tasuku
Aaaaahh! (Post edited to use he/him pronouns)
You were cuddled up with Tsubaki in his bed after a long day. After a well deserved nap, you woke up when Tsubaki gently slid out from under you, assumingely to use the bathroom or something necessary.
Groggily, you reached out your hand, and whined. “Dar~ling~ ‘so snacky… can.. you bring me back… an orange… pleeeeasssse…”
Tsubaki thought you were the absolute cutest. “Of course my dove~” he would kiss your forehead and pat your hair down sweetly. “I’ll be right back.”
You fell back asleep, but when you did wake up, you saw Tsubaki only a few feet away painting his nails. “Ah! You fell asleep before I got back, you know!” He pouted.
You giggled an apology, and looked around for the orange you’d asked for. “On the nightstand darling.” Tsubaki helped direct you.
You are not expecting to look over and see a dazzling fruit assortment waiting for you. Halved grapes, thinly sliced strawberries, heart shaped banana slices, and bite sized mandarin oranges, all neatly assorted in a bowl…. With a sprinkle of sugar making the entire display shine.
You’re stunned, gasping at the beautiful display. “It’s so cute!! All for me?” You asked, glazed eyes seeking your partner out. He giggled back. “Of course all for you~ enjoy!” And blew you a kiss.♡
Overall: ∞/10. Are you kidding me? Tsubaki ABSOLUTELY would go ABOVE and BEYOND for the ones he loves, ESPECIALLY his partner. PUT SOME RESPECT ON BABE’S NAME RIGHT NOW OR SO HELP ME!!!
Umemiya Hajime
As much as your boyfriend wishes he could grow a fruit tree of his own, he knows that they take time. So, he settles for easy to grow vine fruits like Strawberries and blueberries.
He loves making you an assortment of berries, and presenting them to you with love. It’s so so very sweet.
ALWAYS encourages you to eat vegetables and fruits, even if you’re not in the mood for them. “They’re super good for your health y/n!”
So you indulge him.
When it’s you who’s asking instead, “Can you bring me an orange please?” He’s elated.
“YES MA’AM!” He all but yells, rushing to get you just that.
Umemiya returns with two imperfectly peeled oranges. He’s a little clumsy with it, but he’s just excited.
Loves sharing food with you and will hand feed you them like a goddess.
Overall, 12/10. The assignment is to gauge one’s thoughtfulness, and Umemiya blows it out of the water. He wants nothing but the best for you and aims to give it to you tenfold.
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marvelouslizzie · 1 year
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Same Lonely Night
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summary: Your roommate Bucky Barnes hears you pleasure yourself and moan something he never thought he would be into. That forces him to face his feelings for you.
pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
word count: 2.6K
warnings: 18+, masturbation, fantasies, daddy kink, no mention of y/n
A/N: This is the second part of A Lonely Night. This time we are seeing Bucky's POV and what comes next. You don't have to read that part to understand what's going on but if you want to, you can find it on my blog/masterlist. I planned this as a 3-part story and I hope I'll maintain my inspiration and motivation to write the last part. Wish me luck!
Thank you so much @notafunkiller for beta-reading and editing. You are the best!
All work is mine, please do not repost or translate without my permission.
Read more tag starts after the second paragraph of the story.
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Bucky’s head is resting on the shower wall while the water is running down. His flesh hand is still wrapped around his cock, but he doesn’t move it. Taking a couple of deep breaths, he’s trying to calm himself down. 
He really had no intention to listen to you. He was just watching the news mindlessly, but his enhanced hearing turned into a curse the moment he heard you taking a sharp breath. He couldn’t help but focus on the noises you made. That’s when he started to hear the way you were touching yourself. Every stroke, every rub, every muffled moan… 
He knew what you were doing was private and he had no right listening to it, but he couldn’t stop. He just couldn’t. How could he? You were so needy and subby. Even in your fantasy, you were begging. He wondered what you were imagining. Who were you begging? Your crush? Maybe you have been seeing someone.
That thought had never occurred to him before. You were always in your element, working, chilling at home, doing whatever you enjoyed in your spare time, and occasionally going out with your friends. You never brought someone home. Not yet at least. So he never questioned if you were seeing someone or not. Even if there was someone, he wouldn’t know, and that thought suddenly hurts him.
“Oh fuck, oh fuck.” Your moans bring him back to reality. If you are seeing someone why are you so needy? Are you just that greedy or has it been that long? He’s certainly hoping for the latter. That’s something he can relate to, and it's probably been much longer for him. That’s why he can’t stop listening. That’s why his cock is painfully hard. Normally he would just remove himself from the house, and give you some space instead of creeping like this.
“Oh please, fuck me.” He would do anything to be able to do that. Anything. Just to be in that room with you, taking his time exploring your body and satisfying your needs. Even just the thought of it drives him crazy. “Fuck me, daddy, please.” 
That surprises him on so many levels. He never thought you would be into that. You look pretty innocent. He wouldn’t assume you would have such dirty fantasies. Fucking an old man… Are you into older men or is it just a little fantasy you are playing? Maybe you are seeing someone old. Maybe that’s why your mind goes there. He doesn’t know. He has no idea what’s going on in your private life, and every word that comes out of your mouth confuses him even more. It creates more problems, but the biggest one is, when he heard daddy, his dick twitched with excitement. So it makes him question himself, too. Is he into younger women or is it because you were the one saying it? The latter somehow seems more likely. Yet all of that doesn’t change the fact that he’s listening to you and getting hard just because of it. 
“Yes, yes, yes. Right there.” He hears how your head falls onto the pillow while your whole body is shaking, and how much you are enjoying it. He knows this is his cue. He should just remove himself from the living room so he won’t get caught with a hard-on. He doesn’t miss a beat. Quickly, he turns the TV off and runs to the bathroom. 
That’s how he ended up here, head pressed against the cold shower tiles, thinking about the way you said daddy over and over again. He is trying really hard not to give in, but his cock is aching with need. A part of him thinks he should just give in. It’s not such a big deal. Everyone masturbates. You just did. Three fucking times! That thought makes him groan. If you can come three times just by masturbating,how many times could he make you come? 
So it’s not even a conscious decision when he starts to stroke himself when he starts thinking about making you come. He can’t stop himself from imagining how you would look under him or on top of him. It doesn’t matter which position. He just wants to feel you. Your moans are echoing in his head while he caresses the top of cock. Just one stroke and it makes him tremble. He can’t remember the last time he felt this turned on. He can’t remember the last time his whole body heated up like this, just at the thought of someone. But you aren’t just anybody. You are you.
Maybe it’s because it has been ages since he had sex. Perhaps it’s because of his growing crush on you. He tried to control those feelings, thinking he was too old for you. He thought you would never look in his direction. Why would you? You are intelligent, beautiful and so cute. Like all these qualities aren’t enough, you are always so thoughtful. You always ask if he wants your leftovers, or if he needs help with anything. He knows he wakes you up at night sometimes. His nightmares are loud, but you never complained. Not once. You always let him watch the news even though you would rather watch something else. You even lent some books to him. They were in such good condition he couldn't believe his eyes. It was like reading a brand-new book. So yeah, he really tried to act like it was nothing but a silly crush, but after hearing the way you moan daddy he can’t stop himself anymore. It was as if you awakened something inside him.
He doesn’t know what to do. Should he take his time or just get over with it? He keeps his fingers loose, stroking himself up and down slowly while his head still rests on the tiles. Even with minimal effort, it feels so good. He gently cups his balls, massaging them and imagining you are the one doing it. You are the one touching the most intimate parts of his body. You are the one ready to satisfy his growing need.
“Oh fuck.” A moan escapes his lips. The shower is running and you don’t have a super hearing like him, so he knows he’s safe. Still, it feels like it’s something he shouldn’t be doing. He shouldn’t be touching himself. He shouldn’t be moaning like this, yet you are so beautiful and needy… He already wanted you before hearing how you sound in bed, but now he wants you even more. He wants to be the one to bring you pleasure. He wants to be the one that satisfies all your needs so much that you would never need to touch yourself. Unless it’s to tease him.
He’s feeling guilty. So fucking guilty, but there’s no way he could stop now. Imagining you does something to him. There’s this primal need in his abdomen, building up.
His fingers tighten around his cock, moving faster than before, and he presses his lips together, trying not to make a sound. He keeps rubbing on that one sensitive part of his cock and finally, he starts coming with a choke. He keeps stroking himself, thinking it will be over soon, but it doesn’t end. There’s so much come that it surprises him. His hands continue pumping and his come paints the bathroom tiles immediately. He takes a deep breath when he’s done, trying to collect himself.
It feels like his head is spinning. He had been masturbating for quite some time, but he doesn’t remember the last time it felt this good. He opens his eyes, trying to ground himself, and all that shame he feels comes rushing in while looking at the mess he made. He groans loudly and then reaches for the showerhead. It doesn’t take long for him to clean the shower and then himself with the thought of you is still on the back of his mind. He is soaping himself, scrubbing, and then rinsing while trying to convince himself that it isn’t a big deal. It’s just masturbation. It’s normal.
Of course, he knows how normal it is. It’s like breathing, eating, or drinking water. His body needs it so he gave in, but listening to you and touching himself while thinking about you… That’s where he crossed the line. He knows it, yet he can’t bring himself to wish he never heard you. He might be a creep or a pervert, it doesn’t matter. Your voice, the way you sound while coming, and the way you touch yourself are stacked in his memory forever. It’s something no one can take away from him.
Sighing, he steps out of the shower. Drying himself doesn’t take too long. When he steps into the living room, all that welcomes him is silence. You are still in your bedroom, God knows doing what. The TV is off, and nothing seems to have moved since he ran to the bathroom. So he’s safe. You haven’t heard or suspected anything.
Quietly, he goes back to his room, finds something to put on and just looks in the mirror. Is he really too old for you or is that all in his mind? He doesn’t look older than 35, but that doesn’t change when he was born.
What if you are into that, though? What if you really like older guys? That would change everything, wouldn’t it? You would like that he’s older than you. Maybe you would even call him daddy, just like you did in your fantasy. That thought makes the blood rush back to his cock, making him feel the arousal running through his veins once again. Like he didn’t masturbate in the shower a couple of minutes ago. 
He knows his anatomy by now. He knows he’s able to get hard again pretty quickly thanks to the super soldier serum, but he hasn’t been this horny for a long time. Especially not because of the thought of someone, but the thought of you calling him daddy… 
Jesus… It makes him so hard!
Sighing, he drops his whole weight on the bed and closes his eyes, fighting the urge to touch himself again. It’s for the best if he stops thinking about you and focuses on something else, isn’t it? He tries to think of something, anything that could take his mind off of you, but nothing, absolutely nothing is more interesting. Nothing he tries to focus on lasts. His mind goes running back to you, imagining how you would look the moment he would push himself inside you. How your mouth would open, how you would throw your head back, and how wonderful it would feel.
That thought does it. It breaks his resistance. All the effort he put into not touching himself again goes out of the window, especially once he imagines you saying “Harder, please, daddy, I need it harder.” His hand goes under his boxers, slowly toying with his cock. It feels like he didn’t touch himself today, and the need is even stronger now. After a couple of strokes, he realizes he can’t move his hand properly like this, so he pushes down his shorts and boxers at the same, creating some space for movement. 
He looks down at his cock, already oozing with precum. His flesh hand moves on top of the head and smears it all the way down, making it easier for him to play with himself. He sets a steady rhythm, testing what feels right, but his precum isn’t enough to make it enjoyable. That’s when he reaches for his nightstand and takes out the bottle of lube. His metal hand works fast, opening the bottle and putting a generous amount on hisnhand, before he puts it back and starts to touch himself. 
Now it feels much better. His hand works seamlessly from the top to the bottom, repeating the same movement a couple of times. He tries to get lost in his fantasies but something feels off. He isn’t sure what it is because what he’s doing is enjoyable. Something is not enough. Maybe he should work faster. So that’s what he tries. His hand starts to move faster on his cock, but that’s not helping. 
He’s pretty sure this is what his body wants especially because he’s still rock hard. Should he be more gentle and take his sweet time? That doesn’t seem to work, either. Does he need a tighter grip? Maybe, but he can’t do more with his flesh hand. He glances at his metal hand for the first time since he started. He never used it to pleasure himself before. The flesh looked and seemed more appealing than metal, yet right now it’s not enough.
There’s a first time for everything.
He reaches for the lube once again. This time he uses his flesh hand and pours some on his metal one as he tries to convince himself that this is not a bad idea.
He goes right back into touching himself, just with his metal hand this time. It feels different, really different, and surprisingly okay. It doesn’t feel as warm. The texture is completely different yet it somehow works. His fingers start to work faster, his thumb brushing over the head and, thanks to the lube, it starts to feel much better than he ever expected. His reluctance slowly fades away and he decides to test how fast he can move his metal hand and how much his cock can actually take it. As he paces up, pleasure starts to build so unexpectedly. He takes a deep breath but keeps moving his hand. His head is now thrown back while with the flesh hand, he cups his balls, gently massaging them.
“Oh god…”
He doesn’t realize that he's just said that out loud. He just keeps working on himself, letting his whole body relax under that pleasure. He really didn’t intend to focus on you this time, but here you are again, in his mind. The image of you on top of him… You with all your charm and cuteness, touching him, making him feel this good while he takes your nipples into his mouth and sucks them until you can’t take it anymore. It drives you crazy, so you beg him to fuck you. Just like you begged while touching yourself.
“Please, please, please… I really need it, please…”
He can hear it so clearly like you are here and really begging him. There’s nothing he wouldn’t do to make that really happen.
“Anything you want, doll.”
His fingers move like they have a mind of their own. He knows he should slow down a little, make this one last a bit longer because it feels amazing, but his metal hand isn’t listening to him.
“Oh fuck, fuck.” 
He knows he’s about to come. He can feel it. It’s right there, just a few strokes away. He loses his damn mind imagining you under him, split open, and getting railed by him. God, that would feel so fucking good! You looking at him with those big beautiful eyes and begging him for more… Then your name slips out of his lips like it’s the most natural thing to say at that moment. 
Right when he’s about to come, a loud noise comes from the living room. Like something has just got shattered into pieces. His eyes fly open. He grabs his shorts and puts them on quickly, tucking his freaking erection away, and opens his door to see you standing there with an oversized T-shirt on. The glass you were probably holding is on the ground, but you don’t seem to care about that. You are looking at him with wide eyes and an open mouth.
Shit! She heard me.
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indecisivemuch · 6 months
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The Pact
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Pairing: Luke Castellan x Reader
Summary: Seeing you yearn for a relationship and dejected over the lack of one, Luke Castellan proposes a dating pact. Little did you know, he was going to do more than just wait until the day the pact could happen (friends-to-lovers, fluff, pining, a lot of longing, lowkey jealous luke).
Note: Sort of inspired by Monica and Chandler's pact thing from Friends.
Word count: 3.4k
You were spending some time alone near the lake, trying to enjoy mid summer sunlight as well as the silence from the lack of campers and couples around. For some strange reason, the number of people dating at least tripled in the last three weeks. If you were honest, the sight of happy couples was starting to irritate you.
Your eyes glided through the lines in the novel you were reading, though you could barely get past a few pages before a degree of bitterness seeped through. You set the book down and sighed. Your head leaned against the tree behind you while shutting your eyes and furrowing your eyebrows. 
Oh, if only someone could love you the same way love was portrayed in books.
Before the scowl could grow permanent on your face, you felt light finger tips setting on the crease between your eyebrows. Instead of getting scared, you remained calm. You knew immediately who it was because there was only one person who would do that. The person sat down next to you and you turned to see them already smiling at you. 
To most, Luke Castellan was just the Hermes cabin counselor and best swordsman. But to you, he was a close friend and confidante. He has made it a habit to press softly against your scrunched eyebrows to prevent you from scowling further. It was somewhat sweet to you.
“What’s got you so bothered?” Luke asked, peering at you while tilting his head in a boyish manner. The look alone somehow made you blush. There was no denying that Luke was cute. You knew at least a handful of people at camp who would agree. It honestly surprised you that he was still single. Though you were somewhat relieved at that. For about a year now, you have had a little crush on the Hermes cabin counselor. It was not hard falling for his kind words and sweet actions.
“This is going to sound so stupid…” You let out a deep sigh.
“Oh, come on, since when have I judged you for being stupid?”
“Oh, so you do admit I’m stupid sometimes?”
“Yes, but is that really a problem, considering I find it endearing?” You hope he did not see the way your face heated up at his words. 
Little did you know, Luke did notice it, just like he has always noticed little details about you. Knowing he was the reason behind your pink-tinted cheeks filled his heart with joy. In fact, throughout the last year, it got to the point where he would grow very bold with his flirty jokes, disguising his feelings in between them. Honestly, he was surprised you had not caught up to the truth yet. 
“Okay, well, so many people have gotten together lately, and it’s got me a little bit annoyed.”
“Why?” Luke questioned.
“Because, I want that experience, you know? The teenage love thing. We already have a strange life, fighting creatures and going on quests that could kill us. I just want to at least experience an aspect of a normal teenage life,” you watched him nod and digest your words. “I didn’t want it, want it. But seeing everybody else experiencing it makes me wonder when it will be my turn, you know?” You sighed before adding, “To make matters worse, it seems like nobody is interested in me that way, so…”
Luke almost let out a chuckle of disbelief at your last remark. Oh, many Demigods found you cute. But if only you knew to look right under your nose. He has always been here. If only you could see him how he wanted you to and give him a chance.
Ever since the day Luke Castellan met you, he became a dreamer. During the night, every dream would be of you, while in the morning, he’d daydream of you until he would see you next. You filled in every thought, walking in his mind like it was your home. But even if it wasn’t your place, he’d still give you the keys without hesitation.
“So…you just want to experience teenage love?”
“Well, that, and ideally, to be loved too. I don’t just want some casual teenage love, but at the same time, I’m tired of waiting around.”
A lightbulb practically lit up inside Luke’s head as an idea popped up. The logical part of his mind was yelling that this was a bad idea, though the more chaotic side was pushing him to just give it a shot. Though, he spent little time contemplating.
“What if we make a pact? By the end of summer - so maybe in about a month - if you haven’t started dating anybody…let’s date each other,” Luke blurted out before his mind could talk him into backing out. It was stupid, and he knew it. But if that was one way to potentially date you, then so be it. 
Luke’s heart squeezed when he saw you completely frozen. He started panicking. Maybe he made it too obvious, and perhaps you didn’t like him in that way and were trying to find a way to back out. 
“I mean—just so the both of us could experience teenage love, you know? I think it will be great. We already get along well. We’re good friends. What could go wrong?” Luke tried in a more casual voice.
A lot could go wrong — you thought. A possible thing that could go wrong is that you would fall harder for Luke, and that feeling would absolutely destroy you when you two break up because he finally becomes genuinely interested in another girl. Or, it has you so hung up that you would confess to him, only for him to say that whatever you two had was just a pact. But Gods, your heart must actually be a fool to whisper to your brain, ‘I mean…at least you would no longer have to imagine how it would feel like to be his.’
“Sure,” you said before you could think twice about it. “Deal,” you grabbed his hand and shook it.
“Deal.”
Now…Luke just needed to do a couple more things in the meantime.
During the first week, you asked Clarisse to set you up with somebody. She introduced you to one of her friends, Dean. However, when you mentioned Dean to Luke, he clicked his tongue before warning you.
“I just think you deserve better, Y/N. I’ve known him for five years and have never seen him bring one person on a date twice. Last week alone, he went on a date with five people.” Since then, you haven’t spoken to Dean again, deciding that you don’t want to try and date a playboy.
Two weeks later, you asked this guy on a date. He came to the picnic you had set up with a bouquet of flowers. However, your smile faltered slightly when you realized they were the type of flowers you disliked. You shook the negative thoughts away. After all, it’s the effort that counts.
Things quickly went downhill as the guy started sneezing…a lot. His eyes were watering, and it seemed like he was borderline getting sick. You noticed him trying to stop sneezing. You could feel the guy trying—you really did. But the last straw broke when he turned away to sneeze mid-sentence but didn’t do it fast enough. 
Three days before the day that marked the day the pact would be able to begin, you attended a party hosted by the Hermes cabin. You were honestly done with trying to find someone to date. Perhaps, this pact thing was not such a bad idea after all, even if Luke might not like you as much as you like him. But at least you knew he would treat you well.
However, your numbers must have turned because somebody had walked up to you and struck up a conversation. With similar humor, your jokes bounced off each other’s, and you almost started crying from laughing at one point.
The sound of your laughter caught the attention of the Hermes cabin counselor. Luke could feel his lips slowly curling up into a smile at the sound of your giggles and laughter. He has always found the sound so endearing.
However, when he turned his gaze over at you, his eyebrows scrunched at the sight of you conversing with another Hermes boy — Oscar, who was also one of his friends. Luke was no longer paying attention to the conversation in his circle right now. His ears were busy trying to make out what that boy was saying to make you laugh like that. However, he almost left his friends when you touched Oscar’s arm while giggling at another one of his jokes.
You always tend to physically react to Luke’s jokes, from small touches while laughing to you playfully slapping his arm at his cheekier jokes. They never fail to make the tip of his ears grow red while his cheeks match the same color. Though Luke swore he had never seen you this way with anybody else. Hence, he was less than enthusiastic at the sight of you doing the same with another guy right now. 
You continued talking to Oscar, but your conversation stopped when somebody bumped into Oscar and spilled their drink onto him. 
“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to trip…” the guy who bumped into Oscar apologized.
“Chris, it’s okay, don’t worry about it,” Oscar said, though a sigh quickly followed his words. “I’ll just go and wash the drink off, but I’ll talk to you in a bit, though?” Oscar looked at you. He smiled when you gave him a sweet nod.
“Sorry again, man,” Chris said before watching Oscar exit the cabin. He turned to you now. “So, how are you? Are you enjoying the party?” You answered Chris and started catching up with him. You and Chris met through Luke, though as the years went on you two became friends as well.
With your focus now on Chris, you did not notice the figure of the Hermes cabin counselor zooming past you two and outside, following a certain someone. However, your conversation with Chris didn’t last long because Clarisse swooped in and borrowed you from Chris. 
“So, I saw you talking to Oscar. Give me the details,” she said, dragging you down to sit beside her.
“He’s great! It’s so easy to talk to him and be around him.”
“Easier than with Luke?” you gave her a warning glare. You might have told her about your little crush on Luke, though you confessed that to her out of the belief that nothing would ever happen and that it would pass soon. Fast-forward to a year later, your feelings have not changed. 
“...No, but—”
“I’m telling you, Luke’s the best one for you.”
“He doesn’t like me like that.”
“If he doesn’t like you like that, he would have never made that pact with you." When you didn’t reply to her, Clarisse decided to bring something else up. “Alright, let’s move on and talk about something else then…another candidate. Dean told me you didn’t show up.”
“Show up to what?”
“He wrote you a note asking you to meet him?” the look on your face must have told Clarisse you had no idea what she was talking about. “He wanted to ask you out on a date in person after that talk you two had three weeks ago.”
“Where did he leave the note?”
“Apparently, he was planning to get me to give it to you, but he passed Luke on his way to me, who offered to give it to you.”
“Well, I never got the note. I guess it doesn’t matter anyway. Luke told me he’s quite a player.” Clarisse pondered on the information you just provided her. Dean was in no way a player. She knew he has only been on one date with another person at camp. However, the puzzle pieces quickly clicked for Clarisse and she leaned back with a smirk. 
Before you could question the look on Clarisse's face, Oscar came back to the party. 
“Well, if you don't mind, Oscar is back and I have a good feeling about him. So I'm going to go and talk to him,” you left Clarisse, walking in the direction Oscar did. Meanwhile, Clarisse only silently chuckled. She knew exactly what Luke was up to and it made her shook her head in amusement.
“Hey,” you touched Oscar’s arm, though the cheery grin on your face fell when he slightly flinched and shrugged your hand off. “Uhm, it’s good you got that stain off your shirt,” your eyebrows furrowed when you realized Oscar was not even making eye contact with you.
“So, tell me more about that quest you went on last year?” you asked, hoping to start a conversation again. However, Oscar quickly broke out the truth.
“Listen, you seem very lovely, but I don’t want to put myself in the middle of anything. I don’t want to cause any drama.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m not the type of guy to steal girls my friends are talking to or having a thing with,” you scrunch your eyebrow in confusion. Just as you were going to question what Oscar was referring to, his eyes betrayed him and looked at someone. You followed his eyesight only to see Luke already looking at you while glancing between you and Oscar. Though realizing he had been caught, Luke looked away and back to his friends.
That was when everything made sense.
“Uh oh…” Chris’s voice snapped Luke from whatever his friends were saying. He followed his gaze to where Chris was looking, only to see you storming over.
“We need to talk,” Luke tried not to think too much about the way your hand felt on his wrist as you pulled him through the crowd and outside. As always, he blindly followed you to wherever you were taking him. 
You released Luke from your grip and stood with hands on your hips. You took a deep breath. 
“Are you kidding me? Have you been sabotaging me? You told me Dean plays around, but apparently he doesn’t. He also gave you a note to give to me, but you never did it. Then, Oscar, who I was getting along with, came back acting weird, wouldn’t even look me in the eye, and then told me we have a thing going on?”
Oh, Gods, you found out about what he has been doing.
“Listen…” Luke started off while rubbing his neck, though he was unsure what to say next because he was indeed guilty of every accusation you were throwing towards him. But how was he meant to trust fate that you would still be single by the time the pact would be able to come true?
So, he intervened in his own way. That included throwing away Dean’s note, having Chris spill a drink on Oscar to get the boy away from you so Luke could have a talk with him. He might have also suggested your date two weeks ago to get you flowers, despite knowing that the boy was allergic to flowers.
All he wanted to do was to make sure the pact could happen.
“Luke…why? You know I wanted this. I wanted to experience things and date someone.” You weren’t mad, but you were slightly disappointed and confused. You didn’t understand Luke’s intentions behind his actions.
However, Luke misinterpreted the look on your face. He thought you were genuinely upset, and that alone pinched Luke’s heart. He gulped at the idea that he might have disappointed you or made you sad. Screw waiting until the pact happens before confessing. What use would that be when you might somehow start hating him?
“...Maybe I wanted it to be me,” Luke confessed, watching your eyes widen. “You told me you wanted to experience teenage love and feel loved, and you’re tired of waiting until it’s your turn. But I have never told you what I want.” Luke took a step closer to you before starting.
“I want to be the one to take you on dates and give you your favorite flowers every single time. I want to be your personal hype man and be your shoulder to cry on if you ever need one. I want to sit with you by the lake while you read. I also want to read the books you read and those little annotations you make. I want to learn about the things you love and the things you don’t. I want to do things you love. I want to show and tell you just how amazing you are every single day. I want to let the feelings I have right now grow cause I really like the idea of loving you, and I want to get there someday.”
You stood there shell-shocked. This felt almost surreal, like something you read from one of your novels. You have always wished to have someone who practically walked out of a romance novel.
“I want you.”
And here he was, standing in front of you, begging for a chance to be yours.
“And I know you just want teenage love, and I could offer you that. But just know I’m also offering so much more, even if you don’t treat the pact the same way as I do and will only view it as a casual relationship. But I suggested that pact and chased all those guys away because I like you a lot, Y/N. And in hindsight, it was stupid and selfish. But I did it because I felt like it was the only way I could have you.”
“I like you too, Luke,” the words slipped out so easily like they were always meant to be said. “I want you to be my teenage love. I want you too.” You’ve been walking around asking when it would be your turn. If only you had paid attention and looked closer instead, you might have noticed he felt the same way. You wanted everything he has spoken of and be just the same for him — to be there for him and learn to love the things he does.
“And I look forward to every single one of the things you’ve told me, and be the same for you. I really can’t wait for it. However, there is one thing I really want right now,” you said as you walked closer to him, one hand taking his own into yours.
“What?” Luke rasped out, looking so tentatively at you. Gods, whatever wish that spills from your lips this second will have him scour the world for it—whatever guarantees your happiness.
“I want you to kiss me.”
Oh, you could ask him for a thousand kisses, and he would give you a million.
Luke’s cheeks grew rosy at your request. He stepped closer, tucking your hair behind your ear without breaking eye contact. 
“Can I?” He whispered in a honey-like tone, and you knew right then that if he kept talking to you in that voice, you’d do absolutely anything he asked.
“Mhm,” your quiet hum granted Luke permission to his next addiction. Without hesitation, Luke attached your lips together with both hands caressing your face tenderly. In return, you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and pulled you both closer until your bodies were flushed against one another. Slowly but surely, you also tangled your fingers in his curls. Luke almost immediately melted against your touch, sighing in contentment against the kiss.
Luke was convinced this was now his new favorite thing to do. He wondered if you could taste it through the kiss—his feelings and borderline infatuation for you. Either way, he intended on making every kiss like this: wholeheartedly and as if it would be your last. 
Now, if you were to ask Luke Castellan how to get the person of your dreams, here’s what he’d advise you:
Step 1. Be stupid and propose a dating pact (tick).
Step 2. Chase away every other potential candidate (tick).
Step 3. Confess (tick).
Step 4. Fulfill all those promises you have made about loving the person (To be continued...But, he’s intending to do this for as long as you’ll let him).
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st4rfckerz · 10 months
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2:37 am | stepbro!anakin x reader (pt. 1)
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word count: 2.5k
warnings: MDNI 18+, dubcon, stepcest, dry humping, slight aftercare, dead dove do not eat.
summary: during a sleepless night, your stepbrother, anakin comes to your aid.
a/n: this is inspired by a video i saw on twitter AND a dream i had, so i just had to write about it.
pt. 2 here
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you never expected your father to remarry after your parents' divorce. but much to your surprise, your father did just that. not only did he remarry, but he also brought a new family into your life - a stepbrother named anakin.
you quickly learned that anakin had a troubled past. he's always got some new story about a friend getting arrested, an incident involving drugs or something else. despite his antics, you couldn't help but find him attractive, his messy hair, constant teasing, and his intense gaze all got you feeling hot under the collar. but you knew he was off-limits as he was your stepbrother, and your feelings for him were something you tried hard to suppress.
it was another sleepless night. you were reading a book in bed, trying to get your mind off the fact that sleeping is just not something your body wants to do. you were wide awake.
you set the book down and looked at the clock that stayed on your nightstand.
2:37 am.
you let out a heavy sigh, then you set the book down and leaned back in your bed, trying your best to focus back on the book. but, as always, your mind was elsewhere.
your thoughts were abruptly interrupted as you heard a few light knocks at your bedroom door.
"who else could be awake this late?" you thought to yourself. after placing your book on your bed, you went to open the door. you slowly open it and raise your head to see anakin.
"you're still up." anakin says in a whisper, his voice quiet and deep. the faint glow of your lamp's warm light illuminated his face, displaying a small grin pulling at his lips. anakin crosses his arms and leans against your doorframe.
"couldn't sleep," you respond softly, trying to keep your voice quiet. "what about you?" you try not to feel intimated as anakin's eyes carefully scanned yours. although his body was slumped slightly against the wall, he still appeared to be towering over you.
"couldn't sleep either, can i come in?" he asks. you stepped to the side, out of his way, and watched as he walked slowly into your room. anakin glanced around your room as you silently closed your door. his gaze lands on the book lying on your bed.
"catcher and the rye?" anakin asked curiously. smirk on his face and his eyebrow raised. he flips through a few pages before taking a seat on the side of your bed.
"i've read about five chapters tonight," you sigh, taking a seat next to him. "still not tired."
anakin snickered quietly before sitting down next to you. he gave you a look that was difficult to interpret until he spoke again.
"it's your little boyfriend again, isn't it?" anakin said as he shifted in his seat. it was as if he was trying to find a more comfortable position to be in. his knee accidentally knocked yours, making your body tense up slightly. he knew exactly what he was doing.
"yeah," you huff defeatedly. "there's just been a lack of communication i guess." you look down at your fingers that rest on your lap, avoiding anakin's lingering gaze.
you often complained to anakin about your boyfriend and how you felt he was treating you unfairly. anakin didn't like your boyfriend and he would often tease you, hinting at how he felt about him. anakin secretly wished that he could have your attention instead.
a small chuckle erupts from anakin's throat. "he doesn't fuck you." he says bluntly. you quickly snap your head up, your wide eyes meeting his. your silence speaks volumes, your attempt to find words faltering before they even leave your lips. the room fills with a charged tension as your face turns hot and pink, a flush of embarrassment spreading across your cheeks.
"maybe." you reply quietly as you look back down at your lap. as embarrassing as it was, you knew anakin wasn't wrong. your boyfriend never made you cum. ever.
anakin knew immediately what he was doing to you. in fact, anakin knew exactly what was really going on in your mind and it was a bit too obvious. he could tell you were sexually frustrated by the way you always avoided his intense eye contact and how you blushed nearly everytime he'd speak to you.
"when was the last time you came?" anakin asks. he drops his head down lower, you could feel his breath on your neck as he spoke.
"i-i don't know." you stutter. your heart begins to race as anakin interrogated you. anakin's eyes moved up and down your body. he saw how nervous you were starting to get and he liked it.
"poor girl, must be really frustrating, hm?" his lips come even closer to your ear, so close that they're almost brushing against your skin. "i can fix that..." he whispers.
"anakin, what are you talking about?" you lean your body away from his.
anakin saw that you tried to lean away but he stopped you. with a firmer grip, he grabbed you by the waist and pulled you closer to him. he lowered his lips to your ear again and spoke.
"you know what i'm talking about, and you know exactly what i can help you with." he purred with a sly smile. "i've seen the way you look at me." you feel his hand slowly traveled towards your exposed thighs.
"anakin sto-" anakin was relentless. you tried to push him away and he fought back. anakin's hand tightened on the side of your face, gripping your chin with force. his lips pressed firmly against yours. your mind went blank and for a moment and you felt a certain excitement building up inside you, despite the fact that you felt guilty about what you were doing. you tried to think of your boyfriend and how this would only make things worse, but those thoughts slowly faded away. you wanted this.
anakin's firm hold on your jaw started to relax as his lips devoured yours. as the kiss continued, his arm that was tightly wrapped around your waist was released and his hand traveled towards your thigh once again, his fingers gently rubbing the skin.
"just let me help." anakin spoke in a slightly deeper, more enticing tone than before. you felt his warm breath on your skin as he softly kissed down your neck, his tongue slowly making its way up your neck. his hand moved to your hair, gently rubbing the back of your head as you felt his fingers slowly creep towards your inner thigh. your veins are filled with an increased level of arousal, and you can feel it pooling in your panties.
the sound of your heart pumping and adrenaline coursing through your body overwhelmed your thoughts. the need to become as close to anakin as possible overtook everything else.
anakin brought you both higher up on your bed and you lay on top of him, his hands wrapping around your arms as he pulled you closer. his lips tasted so sweet and as soon as your tongues met, you felt a rush of sensations, like never before. your breath was taken and your heart pounded in your chest. he moaned softly and you felt him grasp at your hips, pulling you closer to him.
anakin's hands slowly slide down your waist. with a firm and assertive touch, he begins to skillfully remove your shorts, his fingers deftly unfastening the garment and sliding it down your legs.
the sensation of cool air against your exposed skin only intensifies the heat that envelopes them. the tingling anticipation courses through your veins as you remain seated on anakin's lap, your kiss unbroken.
anakin's touch is both possessive and tender, his hands trailing up your legs, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake.
he pulls away from the kiss before speaking again, "lift yourself up." he said in a soft and low voice, a slight smile forming on his face. you did as he asked and he quickly removed his black, plaid pajama pants. anakin's boxer-clad erection protruded against the fabric, stealing your attention.
"eyes up here, angel." he teases with a knowing smile playing on his lips. anakin's gaze held yours captive, his dark eyes filled with an irrepressible hunger. he pulls you back over towards him, his body against yours.
as you settle back down against anakin's bulge, a soft, involuntary moan escapes your lips.  the sensation of his throbbing length pressing against your drooling cunt sends a jolt of arousal through your body, a sweet ache of desire stirs your senses.
a smug grin dances upon anakin's lips as he observes your reaction, relishing in the control he holds over you.
"just follow me." he whispers. you had no words to say and did as he instructed. you nodded your head to let him know that you heard and understood him. with a firm but gentle touch, anakin's hands find their way to the small of your back, guiding your movements and synchronizing your rhythm. a low, throaty moan escapes his lips.
"fuck." anakin breathes out.
with each rut of your hips, the pleasure builds, your bodies moving in sync. the friction between you and anakin heightens the sensations pulsing through your bodies. a wet patch grows on your panties, a clear sign of your arousal.
anakin's eyes beam with amusement as he grazes his fingertips along the damp fabric.
"god, look at that," he purrs. his touch is feather-light, tracing the outline of the wet patch, sending shivers of anticipation through your body. "you're killing me." anakin lulls his head back against your headboard, catching his bottom lip in between his teeth. his eyes were glued to the way your hot pussy rocked so deliciously against his throbbing cock.
your head hangs low, and your breaths become shallow and little whimpers escape your parted lips.
"feel good?" anakin asks. you nod your head in response. "use your words baby." his words send a spark of electricity down to your core.
"y-yes, feels s'good ani." you pant. anakin groans quietly when he hears you refer to him by his nickname.
"that's my girl." he coos. with a sudden flick of his wrist, anakin lifts up your small shirt, exposing your breasts to him. anakin's lips latch onto one of your exposed nipples, his tongue swirling around the sensitive bud. he alternates between gentle sucks and flicks of his tongue, coaxing the sweetest moans from your lips. simultaneously, his free hand palms the other breast, squeezing and massaging it with a firm grip. your back arches instinctively, pushing your chest further into his mouth as you drown in the sensations he evokes.
"ani, i'm close," you whimper as you feel that long forgotten coil begin to form in the pit of your stomach.
anakin removes his big hand from your nipple and returns it to the fat of your thigh. your bodies move in sync, the rhythm building with a fervent need. anakin's grip on your thighs remain unyielding, his strength displaying the control he holds over the both of you.
"let it go angel, cum for me." anakin mewls. you could tell he was close to his own orgasm by the way his stomach repeatedly flexed under your hands.
the knot in your stomach finally snaps, releasing a wave of pleasure that courses through your body. a loud, unrestrained moan escapes your lips, but before the sound can fully escape into the air, anakin's hand swiftly clamps across your mouth, muffling the sound.
"shhh, we don't need anyone hearing us." anakin whispers. as the sound is stifled, anakin's own release crashes over him. his body tenses, muscles contracting as he spills his seed into his boxers.
"s-shit," a string of filthy whimpers escape anakin's lips. you take in deep, ragged breaths, your body still humming with the aftershocks of pleasure.
anakin gently brushes a strand of your sweaty hair away from your forehead, his touch tender and reassuring. he can feel the rapid rise and fall of your chest as you breathe heavily, your body slowly coming down from the intensity of your shared orgasm. anakin's arms instinctively tighten around your waist as you rest your forehead against his shoulder.
"you feel better?" anakin's voice, quiet and breathy, breaks through the silence that envelops the room.
"so much better." you respond with a light chuckle. anakin gently tugs you away from his shoulder. his eyes locking onto the dampness spreading across your underwear. the sight of the wet spot elicits a mischievous smirk from his lips.
"yeah i can tell." he jokes. his fingers trail along the edges of the wet patch, the fabric damp and clinging to your sensitive skin.
"here, let me help you with these." after easing you off of him and onto your feet, anakin sits on the side of the bed. he helps you take off your stained panties, his touch gentle and considerate, his fingers sliding under the fabric to ease it down.
anakin's gaze lingers for a moment, taking in the sight of your glistening folds. with a shaking breath, he quickly turns around, his heart pounding as he retrieves his pajama pants. facing away from you, he slips them back on, his movements slightly hurried as he tries to regain his composure. anakin's pants hang loosely on his hips, the fabric draping casually over his slender frame.
you change into clean underwear and pull on your discarded shorts that resided on the ground. the soft fabric glides against your skin, providing a gentle caress that contrasts with the electric tension that still lingers in the air.
as you turn back around, you see anakin holding your soaked underwear in his hands. you felt embarrassed and awkward at this moment yet anakin's face was filled with a slight smile.
"i'll put these in the laundry room for you." he smiles as he makes his way towards you. a wave of comfort sweeps over you as anakin pulls the cozy comforter over your body after you climb into bed. you feel safe in anakin's presence, his protective nature always made your chest feel fuzzy.
leaning down, anakin's lips press against your forehead. the weight of his lips against your skin sends a jolt of warmth through your body, a sweet sensation that lingers even after his touch is gone.
"thank you, ani." your voice was soft, and almost innocent, considering what had just occurred in your room. anakin turns on his heel, making his way towards the door. the sight of his retreating figure stirs a whirlwind of emotions within you.
anakin steps into the hallway, he glances back, his eyes meeting yours displaying a glint of affection.
"sleep well sis." anakin smiles and closes the door behind him, leaving you snuggled comfortably in your bed.
he locked the door after leaving you to sleep and walked straight into his room, not even taking a look at the laundry room.
as you fell asleep, you wondered how this would affect your relationship and you hoped that anakin wouldn't tell anyone. you thought back on the event, still flushed with guilt, yet something about it felt different. something felt good about it, despite its wrong-ness.
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torialefay · 7 months
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Do You Want to Try?
daddy!chan x virgin!reader smut 🔞
✨synopsis: chan makes sure you feel comfortable during your first time <3
✨request from: @whatudowhennooneseesyou
✨ word count: ~3.4k
✨warnings: this is literally just smut, so minors dni; uses nicknames like daddy and babygirl, but this is NOT meant to in any way mirror a DD/LG scenario… absolutely no age play here
• “Do you want to try?” Chan asked, watching you wiggle on the bed, his eyes growing big.
~
~
• The two of you had been together for a couple of months. With Chan being the gentleman he is, he never explicitly brought up sex, although you could tell he wanted to.
• You weren’t oblivious to the way he would creep his hand up your thigh and hold it there, right on the inside. Sometimes he would lightly squeeze and pretend he wasn’t watching you to gage your reaction.
• Sometimes he would go as far as to walk up behind you while you were in the kitchen cooking, holding onto you from behind and pressing his growing boner against you.
• You knew what he wanted, but you also knew he’d never explicitly bring it up unless you gave him some sort of a signal.
• What Chan didn’t know is that you were a virgin.
• Were you embarrassed? Maybe a little. You knew you didn’t need to be. Chan would never judge you for something like that… And it wasn’t like he didn’t have his sneaking suspicions about it.
• He knew he made you red and nervous when he would act up around you. He thought it was way too cute. It honestly made him want to get you flustered even more. Teasing you and making subtle remarks with the tiniest hints of want in them.
• But you’d still never said it aloud. Until one day, you couldn’t help it.
• STAYs thirsted over Channie like none other. You didn’t mind it much because… hey, he’s the hottest thing ever. But after reading one post in particular, you got a bit of inspiration. It started to make you think… What if Chan really didn’t mind? What if he could show you the ropes.
• The thread was talking about Chan being into the “daddy” kink, and how he’d be very dominant but loving. It got you thinking if it was really true. And the more you thought about it, the more you wanted to test it. You couldn’t help but get a little wet thinking about him getting horny for you anyways.
• So you decided to try your best to push the nerves beside you and let yourself try something new.
• When Chan came home, you’d been waiting for him in the bedroom. Normally, you’d have been in the kitchen or the living room, so he didn’t expect to find you here. He especially didn’t expect you to be sitting on the bed as soon as he stepped in the door, pulling for his hand to bring him closer to you.
• “Channie, can you sit with me for a second?” you asked as you pulled him right to you. A look of worry spread across his face. Instead of sitting on the bed next to you, he opted to kneel right in front of you on the floor so his face could be right in front of yours.
• “What’s wrong, sweetheart?” He asked.
• “I need to tell you something. It’s something I should have talked to you about a long time ago, but I was embarrassed.”
• “Alright, what is it?”
• “Well, I… Well you probably already figured it out, but I’ve never really had sex before…” you looked toward the corner of the room, too nervous to make eye contact with him. “And I just want you to know that I’ve been picking up on your signals, but I’ve just never done anything like that before and I really don’t know what I’m doing. Or even where to start.”
• Chan squeezed your hand, and stroked around it with his thumb, signaling for you to look back at him.
• “Do you want to try?” Chan asked, watching you wiggle on the bed, his eyes growing big.
• “I think so… I think you’d make me feel comfortable. If you’ll walk me through it?” you got the courage to say.
• Chan took your face in his hands. “Of course I will, sweetheart.” He planted a kiss to your cheek.
• As he backed his face up, he grinned.
• “And Channie, one more thing?”
• “Yes?” He leaned back until he was situated again kneeling on the ground.
• “Would you like it if I called you Daddy?”
• He smiled for a split second, not believing what he’d just heard.
• “Oh baby girl,” he said, lifting himself to his feet. He gently pushed you down so you were laying on the bed. “You don’t even know,” he smiled and threw his body down next to you. He moved himself closer into you so he could kiss your neck.
• This, you were used to. Things had gotten steamy before, but it never led past kissing. This you knew you could do well. You laid back and enjoyed the sensation of his lips connected to your neck.
• “Alright baby, I’m gonna move my hands around you a little bit. If there’s something you don’t like, you let me know and we’ll stop, okay?” He breathed out.
• Getting bolder now, knowing he was thoroughly enjoying giving this new experience to you, you replied back. “Yes daddy.”
• Chan must have really liked that, responding by biting down into your neck. The pain was there, but it was more pleasure than anything. You loved the way it felt.
• Chan slowly moved his hands along your body. Starting at your waist, he traced up and down your hips as he leaned up to join his lips with yours. He crept his hands slowly along the outline of your body until they were resting lightly over your boobs. He gave one a light squeeze and waited for your response.
• You let out a tiny moan, encouraging him to give you more. It felt good to have him massage you so gently. You always thought of sex as something to be nervous about, but maybe with Chan’s it would just be something to focus on making you feel taken care of.
• You felt as Chan started massaging harder and squeezing around, moving to the other breast.
• “Is it okay if I go under your shirt baby?” He asked.
• You nodded in response, not sure if you could really form sentences during this yet.
• He snaked his hand underneath the fabric and let it slide up your stomach until he reached the top of your bra. Scooping his hand around the top and under your boob, he gently moved the fabric of the bra to the side, exposing your breast slightly.
• Not daring to move his lips off of yours again, he slowly moved his fingers around your nipple, letting it get hard from the sensation. And you had to admit, it felt damn good. Slowly, he worked his way up to rubbing harder before taking it in between his fingers and rolling it around. You moaned at how good the pressure felt. You felt Chan smile, breaking the kiss.
• As he moved his hand to begin on the other breast, he moved his head to rest beside yours.
• “Daddy wants to watch you now, okay? I need to see your pretty face to make sure you like it.”
• “Okay,” you got out sheepishly. Suddenly, you felt a bit self-conscious knowing that Chan was going to be watching your every move. You tried to sink down into the mattress to ignore it and instead focus on the feeling of Chan on your other breast. He rubbed and pinched and rolled his fingers around under you were writhing underneath him.
• He let out a small chuckle at how cute you looked. “Feel good baby?”
• “Yes daddy.”
• “How about we get these clothes off of you? I’ll be careful and we’ll go slow, okay?”
• You nodded in agreeance. Chan took that as his cue to raise himself up off the bed and take his time with lifting your shirt off of you. He took special care as he reached around you to unclasp your bra at the back, digging his hands into the mattress to get there and pressing a kiss to your forehead. He didn’t want you to have to lift a finger.
• He slid your pants down and off of you, hooking your underwear as well so that they went with the rest.
• You felt so exposed like this. Completely naked in front of someone for the first time. It was scary, and Chan could pick up on that feeling.
• “Don’t be nervous baby, you are so so beautiful,” he said, sliding his body back to lie down next to yours. One arm held him propped up on an elbow, leaving the other to rub up and down your body.
• “Can daddy move down lower now?” He asked, once he’d settled in right next to your ear, planting small kisses to the outside of it.
• “Mmhmm,” you managed to get out.
• Chan walked his hand down to your pussy, making sure to massage all around the area before focusing in on your middle. Once he got there, he stopped himself. “This is going to make you feel good, okay? I need you to tell me when it starts feeling good, and I’ll keep doing that. Got it?”
• You writhed underneath him in anticipation. “Got it.”
• “Good girl,” he whispered, planting another kiss to your earlobe. He let a couple of fingers work themselves between your folds, admiring quickly how wet you were for him.
• “Do you feel how wet you are? That’s so good honey. I’m so proud of you.”
• You blushed in response, focusing on the feeling of his finger tips.
• He worked them slowly to where he felt your clit. You jumped a little at the sudden sensitive feeling, not knowing how to respond.
• Chan chuckled. “That’s supposed to be the part that makes you feel good. Daddy’s gonna go slow, and you should start to feel it.” He didn’t ask for permission now.
• He slowly started to move his fingers up and down over your clit. You felt your breath hitch. He continued for a little while before beginning to rub small circles around it, sending you into overdrive. Your breath started to quicken.
• “Oh good girl,” he cooed down at you. “So that’s what you like, huh?” He beamed. “Does that feel good? Tell me how it feels.”
• “It feels so good Channie.”
• “Perfect,” he smiled into you. “Daddy’s gonna move down there to get a taste, okay? I promise I won’t stop making it feel good.”
• Chan continued to rub you in just the same way until he slid himself down to where his face was hovering just over your pussy. With his tongue stuck out, he made his way in, licking up and down the folds at first. He then moved to your clit, taking over his previous motions to begin with his tongue. He felt you jolt up slightly at the new feeling, letting out a slight moan in the process.
• He hummed into you in response, the vibrations making you feel a new sensation. You suddenly didn’t know why you’d been scared to tell him for so long. Feeling him wrap his tongue up in you was the most loving, erotic sensation you’d ever felt. And god, if it didn’t make you feel like the most special person in the world.
• “Keep your eyes on daddy,” Chan said. He wasn’t mean, but you knew better than to argue him. As you looked down, you almost came immediately at the sight. His curls were tousled in every direction as his hands splayed across your hips, holding you down into him.
• When his eyes came up to connect with yours, you wanted to jump out of your skin. The look on his face of watching you, knowing how good he was making you feel was overstimulating. He kept circling your clit at just the right pace. You were sure you were going to go over the edge any second.
• Your breathing started to pick up and you felt a twitch down your leg.
• Chan brought a finger up to push inside of you slowly, wanting to give you a tiny bit more stimulation. You could feel the small extra pressure it gave to you, and coupled with how sensitive you were, you were doing everything you could to hold on. It just felt too fucking good. You felt yourself lose all thoughts and begin to drift off.
• Chan disconnected his lips from your cunt for a single moment. “Cum for daddy, baby,” he instructed before going right back to his tiny circles on your clit. Looking at his face and hearing his demand was the last thing you needed to reach your climax. Your hands flew down to his hair to hold onto his head as your legs began to twitch around him and the warm feeling spread out from your clit to the rest of your body. You suddenly started to convulse around him, moaning out for him with every last breath. You couldn’t control yourself as Chan kept lapping at you, holding your hips down to make sure you didn’t miss out on any feeling of the pleasure he could give you.
• Once he was satisfied that you were done, he lifted his face from you and raised his body up until he was resting on his knees. He smiled down at you and how out of it you looked.
• “Mmm did that make you feel good, sweetheart?” He smiled, rubbing and massaging along your thighs. You didn’t even know how to respond to that considering the way he just made you feel. You just nodded your head and smiled, moving your arms to stretch them out over your head and then cover your face in slight embarrassment.
• “How about you let daddy stretch you out a little now?” He asked, already bringing his dick to your entrance to move it around against the wetness of your lips. “Come on, don’t cover that beautiful face. Let me see you.”
• You moved your hands and arms away from your face and brought them together, clasping to each other on your chest. Chan just smiled down, admiring how cute you looked for him.
• “That’s more like it… Now, I’m gonna start slow okay? You’ll let me know if it starts to hurt or if I’m going to fast?”
• “Yes…” you whispered out, not knowing if you were really ready or not.
• “Yes what?” he peered down, stern look now on his face.
• “Yes daddy.”
• With that, he slowly began to inch himself into you. One hand resting on your thigh, the other rested just at the underside of his dick to stabilize himself as he entered. He watched intently as your pussy slowly started to open up for him, making sure to go as slowly as he possibly could. Then he made sure to go back and fixate on your face, now with furrowed brows and lips parted open.
• He continued in silence until he was all the way in, letting himself rest inside for just a moment. “Fuck baby, you’re so tight,” he huffed out, throwing his head back. “I feel like if I start moving, I’m going to tear you apart.”
• He slowly moved himself back, centimeter by centimeter until he was pulled out of you, then slowly pushing back in. He continued this a couple more times until he could tell you were more comfortable. The look on your face had changed from uncertainty to one of actual pleasure. He could tell.
• “You’re taking me so well baby. I knew you’d be a good girl for me.” He finally let himself pull all the way back before ramming into you.
• You let out a loud moan in response, which only agged Chan on more.
• He started to thrust again, faster this time. “Oh, is that how my girl likes it? You like it like that, huh?”
• “Yes, Channie,” you moaned.
• “Ah ah ah,” he stopped pumping for a second.
• “I mean, yes daddy!” you breathed out again.
• With that, Chan picked back up, bringing himself in and out of you with a steadily quickening pace. You could tell he was getting worked up the more he pumped.
• He started to hump into it, more than just strokes now. He was getting deeper into you. You let out a rattling sigh at how good it felt.
• Something almost animalistic came over Chan. He almost looked like he wanted to consume you. His jaw locked and his eyes fixated on your face before spitting out at you every last thought he had in his mind.
• "You like it when your daddy fucks you like this, don’t you? You like letting daddy ruin you for anyone else. Being my good little perfect girl. So good for me, letting me fuck you however I want. You don’t want daddy to stop, do you?”
• At that, Chan started to pound into you, getting relentless now. His face was focused, almost looking mad. He hit the spot that you now knew would be the end of you. He kept hitting it and hitting it until you knew you weren’t going to be able to take it anymore.
• “No, don’t stop. Don’t stop,” you panted out. “Please don’t stop. It feels so good,” you were about to cry at this point, not recognizing this feeling. The feeling of breathlessness and pressure, building up, slowly working you to a point you weren’t yet familiar with.
• Chan began to moan violently, forcing himself into you with no remorse. He violently held onto your hips, slamming them down into him as he fucked you. He was going to make sure you felt all of them.
• “So good and tight… God.. FUCK,” he yelled, throwing his head back. He slammed himself in. “Fuck baby, you’re gonna make me cum.. Don’t give into me yet. You can take it. Keep fucking taking it.” He fucked himself into your as hard and fast as he could, bottoming out every time. He hit way up into your cervix and for a moment, you thought you might pass out.
• “Fucking take it, princess. Fucking take me,” he yelled, not able to stop himself.
• “Yes daddy,” you replied back, borderline crying now. He was just too good. It was all way too good.
• Hearing your new name for him was the last thing he needed. “I’m cumming... Fuck I’m cumming. Holy shit,” Chan quickly pulled himself out of you, quickly jerking his dick back and forth as cum shot out of him and onto your stomach. "Fuckkkkkkk." He couldn’t help but moan the entire time, looking at how pretty you looked with his cum all over you.
• You winced underneath him, never having seen this sight before. This was the hottest you’d ever seen him. And to think, he was doing all of this over you.
• He stroked himself up and down until every last drop of cum was out, growling at the last few drops.
• “Shit baby, hold on just a second,” he said, once he’d finally caught his breath.
• He took a few steps to the bathroom, coming back with a wet cloth to clean you off with.
• As you also had finished catching your breath, he came back up to lay himself beside you, bringing the covers up with him. He raised your head up to extend his arm underneath, and then rested it back on top of him so that you were propped up into him.
• “I’m sorry baby, I should have asked you before doing all of that at the end. I don’t know what came over me. Was it okay? Did it feel okay?”
• You took a few seconds to look into his eyes, suddenly full of love and worry.
• “It was perfect Channie. You were perfect.” You smiled at him. He shot you a huge smile back, nuzzling his head into yours and placing a soft kiss on your lips.
• “I’m so glad. You were perfect for me too. I’m so honored I could be your first.”
• You thought your heart would explode from how much love you felt for this man.
• After giving you another kiss on the cheek and lying his head down to rest on top of yours, he whispered into you. “And hopefully I’m going to be your last too.”
———————————————————————————
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thehauntedetheral · 2 months
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Can i request a yandere fashion designer please
Yandere Fashion Designer
Requests are open!
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• Yan is globally famous and one of the most expensive fashion designer.
• He has his own brand company. Whose worth is in millions.
• He is the trend setter in fashion. Period.
• Every girl's dream is to own something of his brand.
• And every model's dream is to walk for his brand.
• Yan's whole life is all about creating fashion masterpieces. Nothing else matters to him.
• His workaholic life made Yan's mother worry about him. So she forcefully set him on a blind date with her friend's daughter which happens to be you. To get some sense and enjoy his life instead of designing clothes every hour.
• Upon spending some time with you he likes you. Your attitude, your personality, the elegance with which you carry yourself and dress.
• First time in his life he didn't thought about working while meeting new people. You have changed this man's chemical equations and feelings.
• He has seen and worked with many beautiful models, supermodels but there is some spark in you that he can't just pin point.
• You becomes his inspiration, his muse for designing clothes and jewellery.
• Yan designs many beautiful and exclusive clothes, jewellery, handbags, heels just for you. And the things he makes for you exclusively are so beautiful that many people tries to convince him to make a dress for them like that too by giving sums of millions but he won't. Because this only belongs to you.
• People have their signature perfumes you have your own exclusive signature wardrobe thanks to this man.
• Yan launches a special collection of dresses, purses, jewellery, heels in your name.
• You have become his muse. Most of his fashion is inspired by you.
• Makes sure that you always attend his shows.
• Always makes sure you wear the most important dress in every show of his when attending. No model gets to wear it but you. That after the show the buzz about the dress you are wearing is more than the models representing on runway.
• Whenever asks about his inspirations in interviews he would always take your name.
• This man has badly fallen for you. Thinks you are the most perfect muse he could ever have.
• Makes exclusive dresses and jewelleries only for you. No one will have that in their wardrobe other than you.
• You are the most perfect person according to him.
• You are the most adored duo in the fashion world.
• Yan fashion designer who makes sure to always keep you busy with his brand work to keep you close to him. He doesn't want any other to have you, have his muse.
• Yan who is very jealous when it comes to you. You once wore and complimented another designer's work. The next week he makes sure to present the most beautiful fashion work of his so no one talks about that fashion designer especially you.
• He would do anything for you. This man would worship the ground you walk. All his creations, art, fashion now is nothing but a figment of you.
• He spoils you so much that all the media and magzines has given you a nickname "(Yan's brand name) Princess". Which Yan loves a lot by the way.
• If someone tries to flirt with you or tries to take you out for date he makes sure to beat them till blood spilling. Because you are his, his only no other can have you. This man is crazy possesive when it comes to you.
• Designs a personalized wedding gown and diamond ring all by himself for you in preparation of asking you to marry him.
• After all you are his muse and he is your Artist.
Want part 2? Let me know through comments.
Requests are open!
For more yandere reading :
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headkiss · 1 year
Text
you’ll always know me
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part 1, part 2
pairing: rockstar!eddie munson x fem!reader
summary: even as the crowds at his shows get bigger and bigger, eddie munson still has you, his very best friend. or, (for my swifties) eddie munson is your dorothea.
word count: 8.6k
warnings: fluff, a little angst, childhood best friends to lovers (sort of), weed and smoking, librarian!reader, first kiss, so many uses of the words “i miss you,” and some idiots in love !!!
a/n: hiiiii!!! this one took so long but i really love rockstar!eddie and i hope you do too!!! this is inspired by tis the damn season and especially dorothea by taylor swift <3 thank you to my love @inkluvs for encouraging me on this one ily!!!
♫♩♪♬
It’s surreal to watch someone close to you grow so much bigger than the town you live in.
To know that the person you see on the news, at award shows on your TV screen, is the same one who used to push you on the swings at the playground, who used to walk with you to and from school, who grew up beside you, closer than anyone else ever could have.
Closer than anyone ever would, still.
To most people, he’s Eddie Munson, lead singer and guitarist of Corroded Coffin. To you, he’s Eddie, the best friend you’ve ever had.
You can go back years and years, and Eddie’s woven into your life for so much of it. So is his music. You can pick out the points: watching Corroded Coffin play for the first time in middle school, watching their first gig at the Hideout, being in the front row for it all wearing the widest smile, having the loudest cheers.
Even the late night phone calls you’d get when he’d be stuck on lyrics, when he wanted someone’s opinion and chose to dial your number instead of his bandmates’.
(“Hello?”
“I can’t get this line to sound right.”
“Let’s hear it, Munson.”)
You’re often in disbelief of where he is now. Not because you ever doubted him, but because even after so long, it’s strange not to see him every day. You’re insanely proud of him, but that doesn’t mean you don’t miss him.
Because you do. You miss him so much.
A box sits on the top shelf of your closet, one filled with newspaper and magazine clippings, articles about the band’s success, positive reviews about their shows and their albums. Things to show that Eddie’s dream came true, and that’s a rare thing.
There’s only one kind of tabloid you choose not to keep: the ones booming with rumors you selfishly hope aren’t true.
‘Lead singer of Corroded Coffin has a new spark? Read more to find out who’s caught famous bad boy Eddie Munson’s eye.’
You see him constantly in pictures, through a screen, but you only really ever see him on holidays, when he’s able to come home. When he comes bursting back into your life in vibrant fireworks with his stupid, pretty smile and stupid, shining brown eyes. When he comes back only to leave all over again.
You only have yourself to blame, really, for letting it tear you up. Because more than anything, you’re happy for him, so happy you could never express it properly, but still, there’s an ache in you when he crosses your mind, when the feelings linger.
Life in Hawkins for you consists of working at the library, reading your days and thoughts away, hanging out with the gang when you’re up to it, and that’s about it.
Eddie always knows where to find you when he does come home, usually barging into the library with his arms open for a hug, one you rush into easily. You always spend the couple days he has in Hawkins together, being the you and him you’ve been since you were kids. But the lingering reminder doesn’t fade, the reminder of him having to leave looming over you like a storm cloud.
Eddie Munson comes home sporadically, unknowingly taking your heart with him wherever he goes. And when his inevitable departure takes place, you’re forced to regrow what’s missing from your chest. Every single time.
-
Besides his uncle Wayne, who could only ever see him as a troublemaking kid, you’re the only person who’s never treated Eddie any differently.
Not in high school when he was labeled a freak, not even when the fame rose so suddenly it felt like a tidal wave. You kept him afloat. You keep him afloat.
He knows he should call more often, he knows that even if the phone works both ways, you really don’t have a way of keeping track of which hotel he’s in, which state, which country, even. He knows that falls on him.
Your phone number’s burned into Eddie’s memory. He could never forget it, and still, he can’t seem to find the time to dial it. He’ll get called away, or he’ll just be getting back from a show and barely have the energy to shower before getting in bed. Worse, he’ll get the panicked sense that you won’t pick up anymore.
At least he’s never missed your birthday. That, he’ll always make time for, usually phoning you at the same time that a bouquet of flowers arrives at your door. And somehow, even when he’s away, you don’t miss his birthday, either.
Eddie’s sitting on the small couch in his dressing room, waiting to go on stage, thinking of you the way he often does.
He wonders if you think of him, too. If you miss him or if you’re angry that he’s gone so often, that he can barely even manage a fucking phone call. Though, you were never the type to be angry. Never with him, at least.
He wants to hear your voice, wants to hear you tell him ‘good luck’ before going on stage like you used to. He peeks at the table next to the couch. Eddie’s not sure how much time he has before he needs to go, but he figures it’s worth a try.
Just as he’s about to pick up the phone in his dressing room, there’s a knock on the door.
“Munson! You’re on in five!”
He’ll call you later, then.
-
“Beginning descent to the Indianapolis International Airport.”
The muffled sound through the airplane’s speakers is followed by the ding of the seatbelt signs being turned on. Eddie shifts in his seat to look out the window. He’s got his own little cubicle in first class, and though this is how he always flies now (other than when he finds himself on a private jet, which is even more unbelievable), he’s still not used to it.
He’s itching to get out of this seat, then he remembers that he’s still got the trek through the airport and the drive back to Hawkins. It’ll be worth it to see Wayne, who he doesn’t see nearly as often as he should, and get his classic hug with a slap on his shoulder.
It’ll be worth it to see you, who makes Hawkins feel more like home. You, who reminds him of the person he’s always been, the parts that get lost on the road. You, who hugs him tighter than anyone else ever has.
His hands clench into fits in his lap.
As soon as Eddie steps off the plane, his security team finds him. He’d assured them that he’d be fine, really, but this is how it is for him now. Through baggage claim and all the way to the car that’s waiting for him outside, security takes a step whenever he does.
Shutting the car door as he slides into the backseat, Eddie tips his head back and sighs.
The car ride feels shorter than usual, the city fading into trees and fields until the ‘Welcome to Hawkins’ sign comes into view. The gravel crunches under the car’s tires as it pulls into the trailer park. Wayne’s got enough to get a better place now, Eddie made sure of it, but he never did. He’d never admit it but Wayne’s sentimental, and the trailer houses too many memories to let go of it.
After all, it was home.
Stepping through the front door there’s the smell that he’d never noticed until he’d been gone for weeks at a time. The settled dust, the faint smoke of cigarettes, coffee, and the room spray Wayne inevitably uses to try and cover it all up.
Eddie drags his bags inside, waves to his driver, and shuts the door behind him.
Then, Wayne’s warm rasp, “my boy. Get in okay?”
He’s wrapped in his uncle’s classic hug quickly, the pats on his shoulder and all. Eddie closes his eyes and soaks it in, just for a second, “yeah. It was fine.”
“Good, good,” Wayne says, pulling back and grasping Eddie’s shoulders, getting a good look at him. “Take a shower.”
“Is that your way of telling me I look like shit?”
“Nah, that’s me telling you that you smell like airport, boy.”
“It’s great to see you, too,” Eddie says, smiling.
He and Wayne have the kind of relationship that time doesn’t really affect all that much. Whether Eddie’s away for a week or a month, or two, or three, they fall back into things like he’d never even left.
He knows Wayne’s probably lonely, probably hiding more than he could imagine, but he also knows that he loves him, and that’s always a good thing to know, to feel. Loved.
“Shut up, you know I missed you,” Wayne shakes Eddie’s shoulders and lets go, “now go wash up and you can tell me about your last show over some coffee, sound good?”
“Sounds good. I missed you too, Wayne.”
Eddie carries his bags into his room, leaving them open on the ground rather than unpacking. He’ll just have to pack them all over again, anyways.
Before long, the trailer’s small bathroom is filling with steam as Eddie steps into the shower, dropping his neck back and letting the water run over his shoulders, his back. He stands like that for a bit, simply letting the heat melt away at the tension in his muscles.
By the time he steps out, the mirror is completely fogged with steam, and Eddie wipes away at a section to look at himself. The bags under his eyes, the mess of his hair that he doesn’t bother taming, the small scratch on his chin from one of his rings. He shakes his head and heads into his room with his towel around his waist.
He throws on a pair of plaid pajama pants and a faded band tee, his hair soaking the back of it drop by drop.
In the kitchen, Wayne’s got two mugs of coffee sitting on the small table, a seat already pulled out for Eddie to take.
“Thanks.”
He nods, sipping from his mug as Eddie does the same.
In the silence, he can’t help but think of you, of how close he is to you now. Mere minutes away. He wonders what you’re doing, if you’re reading in bed after your shift, if you’d just showered like him, if you’re thinking of him, too.
“I saw her the other day,” Wayne says.
They both know he means you.
“How’s she doing?”
“Well, I’m sure you’ll ask her that when you see her tomorrow, but she seemed good.”
“How'd you know I’m gonna see her tomorrow?”
“Come on, kid. You go to the library the day after you get in every time and think I don’t notice?”
Eddie looks down at the mug in his hands, his face warm. It shouldn’t matter, shouldn’t have him feeling all shy and nervous, like he’d been caught, but it does.
“She misses you,” Wayne adds.
“She tell you that?”
“Doesn’t have to. I’ve known that girl since she was little and running after you on the playground. I can tell.”
Wayne has always said that you’re as good as family, after all. Eddie used to joke that his uncle liked you more than him, and you used to laugh and joke back that he was right.
Eddie’s suddenly very excited to sleep, only to get to tomorrow quicker.
“I miss her, too.”
“Yeah, kid. I know,” Wayne leaves it there, switching things over, “I saw you almost eat shit on TV the other day.”
“Come on!” Eddie groans. He’d tripped over a fucking wire on stage. “It wasn’t that bad.”
“It was still fuckin’ funny.”
“Of all the shows, you just had to tune in for that one.”
Wayne asks about the tour, about how Eddie’s liking it this time around, about whether or not there’s anything new he’s working on.
In return, Eddie asks about the mechanic’s, about whether or not Wayne’s back has been acting up (which earns him a light slap on the back of the head), about what’s changed in Hawkins since the last time he’d been home.
Even through the smiles he shares with his uncle, Eddie’s wondering how you’ll react when you see him tomorrow, picturing how it’ll feel to be near you again. He gets that feeling in his gut, the butterflies that are nerves and excitement and questions and feelings rolled into one.
He’s pretty sure he dreams about you, too.
-
Your shifts at the library are always long; full days of scanning and shelving books. You’re lucky to say that you actually like your job. The smell of worn pages, the peacefulness (save for when Dustin comes barging in with his stack of overdue books that you let him off the hook for every time), the interactions that are almost always short and sweet since it’s meant to be a quiet place.
Your eight or nine or however many hour days go by much quicker now than they did during your high school job at the grocery store, that’s for sure.
You’re pushing the put-back cart between shelves, humming a random song quietly as you place the books where they belong, sometimes pausing to straighten things out. It’s the middle of a weekday and you’re the only person in there anyway. That is, until the small bell on the front desk dings.
“Just a second!” You call, squeezing between the cart and the self beside it to walk over to the front desk. You think your heart stops altogether.
You’d recognize that head of hair anywhere, the dark, frizzy curls. Hell, you’d recognize that damn denim vest anywhere, even the stance of the person wearing it. “Eddie?”
He turns around at the sound of your voice, and something lifts from his chest when he sees you. A grin spreads wide on his face, splitting his cheeks and crinkling his eyes in the corners, “there she is.”
Usually, when he comes home, it’s on a holiday and you’re expecting him, watching the door and waiting for him to walk through it. This time, you had no idea he’d be coming home. It’s the best surprise you could get.
You’re practically running into his arms, and he wraps them around your waist easily, yours tossed around his shoulders. Your face is buried in his neck, breathing him in, making sure this is real. “What the hell are you doing here?”
His hands clutch at the fabric over your sides, his head twisting so he can place a kiss over your hair, “had a break from tour. Missed home.”
And sure, Eddie hadn’t really realized just how much he missed it until he came back, it’s crystal clear now, with you hugging him. He really, really missed home.
You want to say something stupid and emotional like it hasn’t felt as much like home until now, or I missed the sound of your voice and the smell of your shampoo, but that would probably reveal a little too much.
“Just home you missed or…” you tease, pulling back to look at his face, his brown eyes that sort of sparkle. Your hands stay on his shoulders, his on your waist.
“I missed Wayne, obviously,” Eddie replies, acting oblivious and smiling at the small furrow in your brow.
“Eddie!”
“Aw, come on.” He tugs you in for another hug, his cheek squished against the side of your head. “‘Course I missed you, trouble.”
Trouble. You never knew you could miss a single word so much.
Eddie started calling you ‘trouble’ when you were kids, sometime in middle school when you’d stolen a bunch of his mixtapes and only returned them weeks later, when he finally noticed. He’d snatched them out of your hands and muttered ‘you’re trouble’ and it just stuck.
“Thank you,” you say, laughing when Eddie pulls back frowning at you. “And I missed you, too. Duh.”
“Duh.” He mocks. He lets go of you fully but doesn’t go far, leaning an elbow against the desk, “you’re doing okay?”
“I’m good. Things don’t change all that much around here, you know that.”
“I’m not asking about around here, I’m asking ‘bout you.”
You tug at the hair tie on your wrist. “I’m fine, Eddie. Promise.”
He nods, and there’s a small lull in the conversation that pinches at your chest for some reason. The sort of silence that never used to be there when it came to you and Eddie, always filling it with conversation or letting it be comfortable. Now, there’s something like awkwardness stretching and it stings.
Because it shouldn’t be there, because he’s Eddie and you’re you and you’re best friends and that’s all there should be to it. But it isn’t. You’re the same people, but so much is different.
“You working late?” He asks.
“Until we close.”
“Care for some company?”
You tilt your head at him, “you really wanna hang around the library for the last four hours of my shift?”
“Sounds like fun to me. I’ll even push the cart for you, and you can tell me what I’ve missed while I was away.”
It’s funny that he thinks he’d ever have to convince you to spend time with him, when you’re practically pulling at any thread of him that you can, when you’re taking anything he has to give you. Two days, a week, a couple of phone calls.
It’s all better than not having him at all.
“Only if you tell me what I’ve missed, too. Like all the cool celebrities you’ve met.”
“Not as cool as you, trouble.” Eddie taps your nose, smiling at the way you scrunch it in response.
“Shut up and start pushing the cart, Munson.”
He stands straight and salutes, “yes ma’am.”
You’re still smiling when you shake your head, “idiot.”
Eddie really does spend the rest of the day with you, pushing the cart while you re-shelf books, sitting in the extra chair behind the counter while you file returns, ducking when someone else walks in.
He asks you about Robin and Steve, Dustin and Lucas, how the kids are finding school, whether Nancy’s been hired at a big paper yet. He asks you about your family, and most of all, about you.
He hangs onto every word you say. And not once do you say anything to make him feel bad for being away, if anything, you can’t stop telling him how proud you are, especially when he talks to you about what’s in the works.
“I always told you you’d make it, Munson.”
“Wouldn’t have done it without you, trouble.”
-
The next morning, you’re sitting across from him in the corner booth by the window at Benny’s for breakfast. The same way you did every Friday in high school, at the same table.
Whenever you wind up at Benny’s when Eddie’s away, you tend to avoid that booth. It’s pathetic. Like his absence is clearer than ever sitting there when he isn’t. When he’s not putting whipped cream on your nose or stealing food off your plate.
Now, it’s his presence that surrounds you, his smile and his laugh, his foot nudging yours under the table.
The menu is sticky under your fingertips where you hold it, faded from sunlight and discolored from coffee spills that stain the page. You don’t really need to be looking at it—after years of coming here, you’ve probably got the thing memorized—but you need the time to collect yourself. To remember that this is Eddie, and there’s nothing to be nervous about.
You need the time to stuff down that flutter in your gut and in your chest.
On the other side of the booth, Eddie takes your distraction as a chance to really look at you. The details he can’t seem to picture when he’s away like the flecks in your eyes or the exact shade of your lips.
He never realizes just how much he misses you until he’s home. Until he’s sitting across from you and listening to the sound of your voice clearly instead of through a crackling phone’s speaker, until he gets to see the way your eyes light up slightly when you laugh.
It sort of hits him all at once, and he’s thinking, God, I should call more often. I should visit more often.
After a couple of minutes, you look back at Eddie, “you know what you want?”
“I’ve been getting the same thing since high school, trouble. Don’t need the menu.”
“Yeah, yeah. I’ll go order,” you say, placing your menu back in the holder by the window.
When you start sliding your way out of the booth, Eddie places a hand over yours on the table, “I can get it.”
You look down at your hands, his skin on yours, like you’d expected to see something there. A spark, a burn scorching your skin in the best way.
“I know you can,” you say, smiling at him. “But it’s my treat, okay? I want to get it.”
Eddie always feels sort of guilty when he’s not buying, because he has more than enough money to take care of it, more than he knows what to do with. Sometimes (often), people expect him to pay, even. And just like you’d known how he was feeling, you shut it down with a flash of your smile.
You shift to squeeze his hand before getting up and heading over to the counter, leaning on your elbows as you wait your turn.
Still, Eddie’s looking at you, his hand in the same spot on the table.
He knows that, despite it not being a busy morning at Benny’s, people are looking at him, whispering the way they did even in school. Only now, they’re saying they can’t believe it, look at him now, instead of calling him a freak. And just like in school, having you around makes the talk bearable. Hell, it makes it disappear, if only for a little while.
When the waiter finally comes over to take your order, you send him a kind smile, rattling off yours and Eddie’s orders.
Eddie watches the entire interaction. He tells himself it’s because he doesn’t want to make eye contact with anyone else, that it’s because he’s just making sure you’re alright. It’s certainly not because of how pretty he thinks you look today, not because of how hard it is to keep his eyes off of you.
The waiter is a younger guy, probably around your age. Someone Eddie doesn’t know. He seems to tell you a joke because you laugh, bright and sunny, and Eddie suddenly wishes that Benny was the one taking orders.
Because he should be the one to make you laugh like that, to be on the receiving end of your grin and crinkled eyes. Because there’s this weight in his stomach that feels a little too much like jealousy. Because you’re his best friend and he fucking misses you.
Eddie looks down at his hands and twists his rings around and around until you come back, the old booth squeaking as you sit down.
“You okay?” You ask, always noticing his nervous habit of fiddling with his rings.
She’s my friend, he reminds himself. My best friend, that’s all.
“‘Course I am.”
“The guy at the counter, Dan, wanted me to tell you he’s a fan.”
He shakes his head, “I can't believe I have those. Especially in this town.”
“Excuse me? Your biggest fan is sitting right here, in this town, Munson.”
He probably thinks you’re joking with the way he chuckles, chest rumbling. But, you’re not. The shoebox full of clippings says enough, and you don’t think he’d ever let you live it down if he knew about it.
“She want an autograph?” He teases, the heaviness in his stomach melting away. Your biggest fan.
“In your chicken scratch? Yeah right.”
It’s not long before your food arrives, plates of waffles and fruit, sides of bacon and hashbrowns. Of course, you inevitably end up with whipped cream on your nose and food missing from your plate.
It’s your favorite kind of breakfast.
-
You’re sitting in the passenger seat of Eddie’s van—the same van he’s had since high school, that he refuses to replace—heading towards Steve’s place. It’s not unusual for either of you to be meeting up with the gang, but Eddie’s still nervous.
“Are you sure about this?” He asks you.
They don’t know he’s in town, and as sure as you are that they’ll be thrilled to see him, Eddie isn’t convinced. You place a hand on his shoulder and squeeze lightly as he drives.
“Everyone’s gonna be so happy to see you. Don’t you trust me?”
“‘Course I do,” he says easily, without thinking, “just haven’t seen anyone in a while, you know?”
“We all miss you, Eddie. It’ll be fun!”
Logically, he knows nobody’s gonna kick him out, or treat him any differently, but it doesn’t stop him from getting nervous. You wanted to surprise everyone, and how could he say no to you? So, here he is, gripping the steering wheel too tight and worrying too much.
Pulling into the driveway, he nods, “here we go.”
You hop out of the van before he has it shut off, but he catches up quickly. He follows you to the side gate of the house, watches you unlatch it and stroll into the yard. The sound of voices mingling hits his ears as you walk around the house and find your group of friends sitting around in lounge chairs.
“Look who I brought,” You announce.
Your shout is followed by eyes flicking towards you, then Eddie who stands beside you. Then, a chorus of his name, plus Argyle’s “rockstar!”
“Hey guys,” he says, waving shyly.
It’s odd to feel this way around these people that he’s known for years. Robin and Steve who’ve rented him way too many movies for free, Nancy and Johnathan who are probably why he graduated high school, and Argyle who was always his most loyal customer.
All of these memories and he feels a little too much like a stranger. At least he’s got you, who feels like one of the only sure things in his life. No matter how long goes by, you’re there, and he hopes you always will be.
“You want a drink?” Steve asks, leaning to reach into the cooler beside him.
“I’ll take one, thanks,” you say, catching the can Steve throws to you.
“I’m driving,” Eddie says, jingling his keys.
“Eddie Munson being responsible,” Robin teases, “they grow up so fast.”
And just like that, he feels a little better. These are his friends, and even though he’s not around all of the time, and even though he may not be as close to everyone anymore, they’ll still be his friends.
You sit down on the empty lounge chair and pat the space beside you for Eddie, sending him a smile that says both ‘told you so,’ in your snark he can practically hear, and ‘everything’s okay,’ in your kind way.
He plops down beside you.
“How’s everything going?” Johnathan asks him.
Not wanting all of the attention on him, Eddie keeps his answer short, “busy, but it’s a ton of fun.”
“Everything you ever dreamed of?” Robin adds.
“You could definitely say that.”
Though, Eddie has this strange feeling that he’s missing something whenever he’s gone. It’ll go away, but somehow, it always finds him again, when he’s debating on calling or not, when he’s hit with a memory of you in the front row at the Hideout when he’s on stage.
He looks over at you and finds you smiling softly at him, eyes fond. He can’t believe he’s the one you’re looking at like that.
Eddie blinks and turns back to the group, “how about you guys? How’re the jobs?”
The chatter picks up and surrounds him, but Eddie can’t stop thinking about the way you were looking at him just then. He’s never had someone look at him like that, like there’s nothing but affection there.
It’s platonic, he tells himself. She’s my best friend.
You feel happier now than you have in a while. Things feel more complete when Eddie’s around. Things feel right. It’s all of your favorite people with no empty chair, it’s falling back into a friendship that’s existed for years.
When conversations split off into smaller ones, you lean your head on his shoulder, and the words sort of slip out of you, “it’s really nice to have you here.”
His heart beats louder, he leans his head on top of yours, “it’s nice to be home.”
And it is. Eddie loves touring, he loves playing his music, and he loves his job, but at the end of the day, he’ll always be this boy from Hawkins, and he’ll always be happy to be home, to be with you.
Catching the moment, Argyle—always sharing his thoughts—says, “sick, you guys are finally together.”
You and Eddie both sit up, like you’d been caught doing something you shouldn’t, even when you’ve sat like that countless times before.
Everyone’s eyes seem to be on the both of you now, and you have a tiny panic inside. Have you really been that obvious with how you feel? Does Eddie know and he hasn’t said anything because he doesn’t want to hurt you?
You laugh awkwardly, “what?”
“Like, dating,” Argyle explains.
“Me and Eddie?”
He’d been frozen for a second there, surprised that Argyle thought that. Was he seeing something Eddie couldn’t? No, no way.
“Just friends, guys,” Eddie says. “Come on.”
You swallow, forcing out a word, “exactly.”
“They’ve always been like this,” Nancy says, which explains enough but also sort of nothing at all.
Just friends. It’s something you know, you remind yourself constantly. It’s all it’ll ever be, and still, hearing Eddie say it out loud has your stomach feeling heavy. Just friends, get over it.
Even as conversation picks up again, as you laugh with everyone, the two words play in your head over and over. Then, after saying your goodbyes, once you’re in the van with Eddie again, it fades, because if you can’t be in love with him, you can be his best friend, and you’d much rather have that than nothing at all.
Once he drops you off, Eddie thinks and thinks about what Argyle had said. He goes over memories, over how he feels around you, and it hits him like a huge punch to the gut.
He thinks he has feelings for you. Big, huge feelings.
-
It’s the same day, a different sky, the sun sunk behind the horizon to give way to a sky full of stars and a bright moon.
Eddie’s van is parked by Lover’s Lake, the back full of blankets where you both sit, the doors open to look at the sky and the way the moonlight reflects on the water.
There’s practically an indent in the ground in the spot he’s parked, the one that’s been your go-to for ages. From day picnics to nighttime smoke sessions, it’s another place on the list of the ones that are filled with memories of Eddie.
Beside you, he’s got a joint in hand, the flick of his lighter catching your ears over the crickets and the breeze. You watch him inhale, his chest expanding, the smoke slipping from his lips. You turn back to the water.
“Your turn,” he says, handing you the joint.
You grab it between your fingertips and bring it to your mouth, feeling the smoke trail down your throat, further, then you’re breathing it out, clearing your throat at the tickle.
“Out of practice?” Eddie teases at your small cough.
“My favorite weed dealer went out of business,” you say, nudging his shoulder with yours, “so, yeah.”
He takes the joint back from you, “you don’t smoke when I’m not around? You know Argyle’s gotta have some stock.”
“Oh, he definitely does. A little too exotic for my taste. Besides, he won’t give it to me for free.”
“Getting cheap, trouble?”
You shrug, shoulder to your cheek, and give him an innocent smile.
It feels easy, the joint being passed back and forth between sentences until it’s done and stubbed out, the flow of conversation, the comfort that’s there. It’s always been easy with him, even when it hurts a little.
Eddie’s got on his worn denim vest, still full of pins, and you tug at it, “think this thing has a permanent weed smell by now.”
“I think that’s just part of my natural scent,” he replies, playfully flipping his hair over his shoulder.
His curls graze your cheek—that’s how close you’re sitting, thighs touching—and you giggle. You’ve had so many nights just like this one with Eddie, and it feels like some kind of reward that you get to have them still, even when they’re far less regular now.
“Doesn’t this make you think of high school?”
“Abso-fucking-lutely,” Eddie’s hand is on his knee, his pinky twitches, reaching for your leg, “hell, I’m even wearing the same clothes as in high school.”
“How does it feel like yesterday and also a lifetime ago?”
Eddie looks over at you, the warm glow of moonlight and stars on your skin, the way your sweater hangs off your shoulder, the shine in your eyes that’s part weed and part nostalgia.
“A lot’s changed since then,” he says. “I’m not a loser anymore.”
“You’re still my loser.”
How is it that even when you’re calling him a loser, the idea of being yours in any sense of the word is enough to have Eddie’s heart swell in his chest, a balloon floating up and up and he has to swallow to push it back down.
“Stop being cheesy,” he plays it off, ruffling your hair.
You shove his arm away, “I just miss you!”
Eddie looks at his arm, your hand still holding onto it, he follows your arm with his gaze until it lands on your face. He thinks you’re beautiful, the prettiest girl he’s ever seen and no groupie could change that.
“I miss you, too, trouble.”
Something shifts, the air growing thicker, a sort of understanding between the two of you. There’s something here, something that could be a disaster but could also be so, so good. Could be everything.
“No way you think about me when you’ve got crowds and fans and-“
“I think about you a lot, honey.”
Honey. He’s probably called you that before, but never like this. Never dripping sweet and sincere, never looking at you like he wants to do something you can’t even let yourself imagine in fear of being let down, of hoping too much.
Eddie’s hand shifts from his own leg to yours, thumb running back and forth, burning you even through the fabric of your pants.
“You do?”
“All the time. You’re my best friend.”
Right. Friend.
“You’re mine, too, Eddie.”
And suddenly you can feel his breath fan across your cheek, your lips. His face is close to yours and the hair that falls over his forehead tickles yours. Just a second ago he’d been saying the word ‘friend,’ and now it feels like he’s going to do something to contradict that.
Against all odds, he does.
Eddie couldn’t help himself. Maybe he’ll blame the weed, or maybe he won’t, but before he knows it he’s reaching up with the hand that isn’t on his leg to cup your cheek and tilt your head. And he’s kissing you.
He’s kissing you.
It’s so delicate, so much you’re afraid to even breathe, like it’ll break in an instant. Eddie’s fingers squeeze your leg, urge you to kiss him back and there’s no way that you wouldn’t. Not when his lips are actually on yours, not when he tastes like weed and mint gum and something perfect.
It could be seconds or minutes that you’re kissing, tilting your head even more to feel him, clutching his sleeve tightly. It never deepens, but it doesn’t have to, it says enough.
When you pull away, it’s not one or the other who does it, it’s natural, like it’s been rehearsed time and time again. Eddie leans his forehead against yours, his hand still on your cheek.
“Was that a bad idea?” He asks you, voice low and quiet.
“Maybe. I don’t know.” And you don’t, because there’s no way of knowing what’s gonna happen next, if things will be ruined, if this will fade away like it never happened, or, maybe, just maybe, if it’ll start something.
“Was it okay?”
“More than okay.”
You don’t talk about it that night, and you don’t want to just yet. You’re fine with enjoying the pink-tinted haze at least until tomorrow.
-
Eddie’s barely been gone for two days and you’re not sure what to do with yourself. After that night, neither of you brought it up, and as much as you wanted to, you couldn’t. You were scared. And anyway, it was probably just the weed for him.
You’d never kissed before. Sure, you’ve come close, faces inches apart when you’d share a bed, whispers away, but nothing ever happened. Until now.
Now, sitting on your bed, chin resting on your knees, you’re reeling from knowing what Eddie’s lips feel like and missing him all over again. Rebuilding that piece in your chest.
Somewhere else in the country, in the world, Eddie’s position isn’t so different from yours. He’s sitting on the edge of his hotel bed, forearms on his knees, head bent. He wants to call you, and he’s figuring out what he’ll say when he does.
He misses you every time he isn’t home, but it’s never felt like this. There’s never been this ache in his stomach that won’t go away because of it. Fuck, he misses you more than ever.
The last trip back to Hawkins was different than anything else, because he brought back these feelings with him and he keeps reaching up to press his fingertips to his lips, like the memory of your own lingers there.
Sure, he’s had silly, sticky thoughts like waking up with his arms around you after a nap and thinking he could wake up that way forever, but he’s always pushed them down. Now, it seems, he can’t, the images too buoyant to ignore, floating back up every time.
Sucking in a deep breath, he sits up and reaches for the phone, dialing your number that’s stored in his memory. His leg bounces as the phone rings.
You’re startled by the screech of your phone on your bedside table, head lifting to look at it shake on the receiver. You reach over and pick it up.
“Hello?”
“Hey, trouble. It’s not a bad time, is it?”
Eddie. His voice crackling through the phone sends a spike down your spine. You clutch the phone a little tighter.
You’d expected Robin, or Nancy, even Steve. Because there’d been a time, earlier in Corroded Coffin’s career, when Eddie would call you at least three times a week, and then the calls grew less frequent until they sort of died out to holidays and birthdays.
So, maybe a couple of years ago, you’d have expected Eddie’s voice, but not today.
“Eddie, hi. Not at all.”
“I- um, I just wanted to call,” a small pause, he clears his throat, “how are you?”
“It’s only been two days, you know how I am.”
“I mean right now.”
You twist to lay on your side, legs curling in towards your chest. You smile to yourself like an idiot. “Right now, I’m good. It’s lame, I already miss you.”
“I miss you, too.”
The reply comes easily to him. There’s no thought to it, because in the past 48 hours, he hasn’t been able to stop missing you for a second. The warmth of your hand in his, the sunshine sound of your laughter.
He’s not sure why everything’s so big now, his feelings amplified, only quieted now, by the sound of your voice.
“Did you have a show today?”
You have a way of asking that makes it sound like you really care, Eddie thinks. He loves his music and he knows you know that. It means the world to him to do what he does, confusing feelings or not.
“Not today. We spent the day on the bus. Show’s tomorrow.”
“Nervous or excited?”
It’s something that you used to ask him before every small show in Hawkins, and the memory has a grin spreading on Eddie’s face. “It’s always both. More excited, though.”
“You should be,” you say. “You guys are really great.”
“Yeah? Who’s your favorite band member?”
He’s fishing, and you tease him rather than bite, “hmmm. Gareth.”
“Fuckin’ trouble. You liar.”
“You asked!”
“You answered the question wrong, honey.”
There it is again. Honey. You’re sort of glad he can’t see you right now because you probably look way too happy, burying your face in your pillow for a second before replying.
“You know you’re my favorite, Munson.”
“Yeah I am,” he sounds far too proud. And then, he’s softer, “I’m not keeping you up, am I? Time zones fuck me up.”
“No, no.” Even if he was, you wouldn’t tell him. This is better than trying and failing to sleep the way you so often do. “It’s not that late. What time is it for you?”
“Not that late,” he says, even though the clock on the nightstand reads 1:14AM. “So, what’s happening in Hawkins right now?”
“Mmm, it’s getting warmer. My window’s open and the crickets are loud as fuck.” You twist the phone cord around your fingers, “it’s donation week at the library, so I’ve been shelving new books for a change.”
Eddie listens to every word you say, asks you questions like if you’d kept any books for yourself (you had, but swore you’d give them to the library when you were done) and hums between your sentences.
Somewhere along the way, he’d laid down while listening to you, eyes shut as he tried to picture what you might look like right at this second. If you’re in your pajamas or not, whether your hair would be a little messy, baby hairs a halo around your face.
Then his eyes grew heavier, your voice putting him at ease even with the sounds of his bandmates laughing from somewhere in the hotel.
“Eddie?” You ask after he’d been silent for a bit.
“Hm?” He hums sleepily.
“I lost you for a second there.”
If he wasn’t half asleep, he’d feel worse. “Sorry, getting sleepy.”
“You wanna hang up?”
“No, uh- keep talking to me? You have a nice voice.”
You smile, cheeks pinching with the size of it.
“Yeah, okay. I’ll keep talking.”
And you do, you keep talking and talking until you can hear the sound of Eddie’s tiny snores on the other side of the line. You’re smiling again at that.
Even after you’re sure he’s asleep, you don’t hang up right away, not until your own eyes are growing heavy. You put the phone back quietly, like you’ll wake him if you’re not careful. You whisper a soft ‘goodnight, Eddie,’ as you do.
There’s a small stiffness in your fingers from how tightly you’d been holding the phone, and still, you’d let your hand cramp for hours to talk to him.
The next morning, Eddie wakes up with the pattern of the phone pressed to his cheek where he’d left it last night.
-
The TV sends flashes of color flickering across your living room and over your face. Usually, you’d be in bed by now, but it’s the night of the MTV awards and Corroded Coffin is nominated. You couldn’t miss it.
You’re not really paying attention to most of it, the sounds of performances and hosts and thank-you speeches filling your ears as you read your latest book. At least, you’re not paying attention until Eddie’s category is announced.
That has you shutting your book and sitting up, grabbing the remote to turn the volume higher.
They show the nominees, give far too long of an introduction before tearing open the envelope holding the winner’s names. You don’t know it, but you’re practically white knuckling the blanket on your lap.
“And the MTV award goes to… Corroded Coffin!”
You stand and place a hand on your chest, feeling your heart beating—racing—for the band, for Eddie. This is huge, it’s a dream, and it’s his. If you could, you’d give him a suffocating hug right now.
Eddie’s voice taking over, thanking his fans and Wayne, the boys and their team, then, thanking Hawkins and the people there, even when they gave him hell.
If you knew the right number to call to talk to him, you’d dial it in an instant.
Lucky for you, your phone rings the next night, late enough that you can only assume it’s Eddie given you don’t know anyone else who’s probably in a different time zone right now. You pick up quickly, fumbling with the phone a little before bringing it up to your ear.
“Eddie?”
“How’d you know it was me?”
“Ummm, my amazing intuition? Telepathy?”
“Telepathy, she says.” There’s a soft chuckle on his end, you close your eyes and lean your head back to thump against the wall behind you. “How’re things, trouble?”
“I feel like I should be asking you that, mister MTV winner.”
Eddie’s been calling more often again, whenever he gets the chance, really. Even so, he never thought you’d be keeping up with him that way, that you’d care enough to watch an award show and remember what he’d achieved.
“You were watching?” He asks, heart thudding.
“Of course I was. I’m your biggest fan, remember?” You’re sitting with your back against your headboard, knees bent, hand absentmindedly pulling at a loose thread in your pajama pants. “I’ve got cheerleader pom-poms and everything.”
“You do not.”
“Do too. They’re super metal, all black.”
“Yeah, cause pom-poms are super metal, babe.”
Another pet name in the rotation, uttered like it’s easy, natural. You bite back a smile.
“Whatever. Mine would be,” you say. “I’m glad you called.”
“Me, too.”
“I wanted to call you yesterday,” you admit, twisting that loose thread in your fingers, “after I saw you won. I’m really proud of you, Eddie.”
They’re words he hadn’t been expecting, but ones he’ll be thinking about over and over. He wants to keep making you proud, he thinks, and he’ll pour that into everything he does whether he means to or not.
“Thank you,” his voice is quieter, almost shy. “I wouldn’t be here without you, you know?”
“You would. You’re talented, and there’s no way that could stay hidden in this town, you’re bigger than it.”
Somehow, it’s easier to be so open with him on the phone. You don’t have to look at him, get distracted by his tongue running over his lips or the way his bangs get caught in his eyelashes sometimes. This way, all you have to do is speak, nothing more.
“Trouble-” he can’t even find the words to say, because there’s affection laced in your tone, seeping through the phone and into his head and, fuck, he wants to kiss you for it and he can’t. “I really miss you.”
“I miss you, too.” There’s some silence, and the overthinker in you worries that you’ve said too much even though you meant it with every part of you, that you’ve given yourself away. “Anyways, I should go, let you celebrate your win.”
It’s what he would be doing if Eddie’s thoughts hadn’t been so full of you and your mouth and your voice. It’s what his bandmates and friends are surely doing in some club around here.
“You don’t need to. I’m not doing anything.”
“No?” You try to lighten your tone, to joke the way you usually do, “don’t have groupies knocking on your hotel room door right now?”
Instead of playing along, Eddie’s voice is serious, still soft in the way he speaks to you, but serious nonetheless, “I don’t entertain them, honey.”
“You don’t?”
He’s tried. But ever since you kissed him, probably since before that, too, Eddie can’t seem to look at anyone else, let alone have someone else kiss him and tarnish the memory of your lips on his. He’s only ever thinking of you, it seems. So no, he hasn’t fooled around lately.
“Not in a while. I’m trying to write for the next album. No distractions.”
No distractions. He says it like that’s true, even though he can’t seem to fully focus, like there’s a piece he’s missing. Like every lyric he’s written since he’s been back isn’t somehow about you.
He’s so, so fucked.
“Look at you, Munson. Squeaky clean.”
You hope he can’t tell that you’re sort of a mess, a stupid blossom of hope planting itself where it shouldn’t. He’s your friend, he’s always been just your friend. But you kissed and it felt like something changed, and you can’t seem to let go of that.
“You sound surprised,” he teases, gathering his wits the best he can.
“Can you blame me? You used to have multiple lunchboxes reserved for your weed.”
“You loved those lunchboxes and you know it.”
“Yeah, I did.”
And then, like that moment was simply a blip, easily brushed over, your conversation turns back to your normal. Jokes with underlying affections, teasing while picturing what kind of smile the other wears when you laugh lightly into the phone.
Time runs away from you, and by the time you hang up it’s well into the early hours of the morning, but you can’t bring yourself to care.
-
After hanging up, Eddie’s got this sinking, aching pull in his stomach. He knows what it is, has had bouts of it before where he misses Wayne’s hand patting his back or the way his mattress is worn-in just the right amount back at the trailer, when he thinks about what his friends might be doing or what science project Dustin’s got going on.
But it’s never felt this heavy. Eddie’s the most homesick he’s ever been.
He’d listen to your voice forever, but in that moment, he’d give anything to see your face, to see the shake of your shoulders when you laugh, the curve of your smile.
What the hell is wrong with him?
Eddie wipes his palms on his thighs before standing and walking out into the living room of his band’s suite hotel room. The guys are still up, and they’re all staring at him like weirdos.
“What?” He pauses in the doorway.
“Did you tell her you’re in love with her yet, or what?” Jeff, the electric guitarist, asks him.
“What?” Eddie says again because there’s no way he heard that right. He’d only just come to terms that he had feelings. This is much bigger.
“You’re joking,” Gareth pipes in, “you don’t even know it? Dude, you’re all ‘I miss you, trouble, you’re my favorite person ever.’” He does a knowingly terrible impression of Eddie.
“I do not sound like that.”
“You kinda do,” Jeff says.
“Why else would you be spending hours in that room on the phone, man? Come on,” Gareth sing songs the next bit: “you’re in loooove.”
Then Eddie thinks and thinks and thinks. The warmth that blooms when he hugs you, the jealousy he felt when he thought that server at Benny’s was flirting with you, the difficulty to say goodbye, the way your kiss haunts him in his sleep.
These idiots aren’t usually right about things, but just this once, maybe they are. Eddie Munson is probably, very likely, definitely in love with you.
Yeah, he’s so fucked.
♫♩♪♬
thank you so so much for reading!!! if you enjoyed please please please consider reblogging and letting me know what you think! it helps and means so much <333 i have plans for a part two, and if you’d like to see it, some support would help a bunch! ily!
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grunckle · 4 months
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On stars, guardians, and Rain World’s cosmology.
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One aspect of Rain World lore that’s asked about quite a lot but normally never gets satisfying answers is the topic or Rain World’s space/universe/cosmology. Despite first impressions though, there’s a lot more it than meets the eye, so I thought I would compile most everything we know about it.
For one, to get it out of the way, Rain World isn’t on a planet, and its universe is fundamentally different from our own. This is something Joar has talked about on occasion.
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He also said on an earlier dev log how Rain World functions more like a fantasy world where it doesn’t hold much relevance than a real sci-fi like planet.
“Oh, another thing - Rain World isn't a planet lol Cheesy Or I guess it might probably be on a planet, just as Lord of The Rings, Sex And The City, Zelda and Frankenstein's Monster are probably technically on a planet, but just as in those examples the planet aspect isn't really relevant at all. Rain World is more of a fantasy world or a dream world, not somewhere you can go in a space ship ~”
But even if it’s not incredibly relevant, it’s clear a lot of thought was put into Rain Worlds fictional cosmology, this was even mentioned by James.
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So, that being said here's what we know about Rain World's cosmology in game.
The biggest indicator of Rain World's unique cosmology is that the Farm Arrays deep pink pearl just mentions celestial spheres, which are aspects of older cosmological models.
"This one is just plain text. I will read it to you. "On regards of the (by spiritual splendor eternally graced) people of the Congregation of Never Dwindling Righteousness, we Wish to congratulate (o so thankfully) this Facility on its Loyal and Relished services, and to Offer our Hopes and Aspirations that the Fruitful and Mutually Satisfactory Cooperation may continue, for as long as the Stars stay fixed on their Celestial Spheres and/or the Cooperation continues to be Fruitful and Mutually Satisfactory." ...May Not as long as the Stars stay fixed on their Celestial Spheres Grey Hand, Impure Blood, Inheritable Corruption, Parasites, or malfunction settle in Your establishment."
More subtly, there's also a mention of the ground colliding with the sky.
"If you leave a stone on the ground, and come back some time later, it's covered in dust. This happens everywhere, and over several lifetimes of creatures such as you, the ground slowly builds upwards. So why doesn't the ground collide with the sky? Because far down, under the very very old layers of the earth, the rock is being dissolved or removed. The entity which does this is known as the Void Sea."
You could chalk this line up to flowery language, but considering the presentation of the rest of the dialogue, it sounds more like an actual aspect of this world.
We know from the Chimney Canopy echo that the sun rises.
"From within my vessel of flesh, I would perch upon this spot to observe the rising of the sun."
And from the top of The Wall we can see the moon and stars (confirmed to be stars by Joar in the previous screenshot, instead of satellites or something else) , which are green!
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So, what does this all mean? I think we can entail a few things with what they've given us.
For one, the mention of the ground colliding with the sky implies some sort of firmament, which isn't an unusual concept in the general realm of celestial spheres.
But on the topic of celestial spheres, the pearl actually isn't the only place we see the concept. Guardian halos are very similar to depictions of celestial spheres, and also astrological clocks.
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You can make of this as you will, perhaps the astrological references being tied to guardians could hint at the nature of karma, but there isn't much to really delve into that idea.
For what it's worth, celestial spheres are also core concepts in Gnosticism, which Rain World is heavily inspired by. I explain it more in this post about Void Worms, but for a quick synopsis in Gnosticism there are seven planetary spheres, and an eighth above them; the planets and stars are fixed to their spheres. These things just further cement the fact that celestial spheres seem to be a key aspect of Rain World's cosmology, and it would also likely imply it's universe follows a geocentric model.
For a bit of a more out-there theory, people have pointed out how the view atop the wall stretches really far, going far beyond what we could see on a spherical planet like Earth, which has led some to theorize that the world is also flat.
But what is probably the most important aspect of Rain World's cosmology is the nature of dust. Dust builds up, and the bedrock of the world is eaten away at by the Void Sea. Civilizations rise and fall into the sea as new ones are built above it. Many, including myself, believe that the world exists in a sort of state of equilibrium. The world is dissolved from the bottom, then that falls back on the world as dust; even in the final moments of the game we see dust suspended in the void sea depths.
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And hey, even void worms are described as being star-like.
"Oh, interesting. This is a diary entry of a pre-Iterator era laborer during the construction of the subterranean transit system south of here. In it they describe restless nights filled with disturbing dreams, where millions glowing stars move menacingly in the distance."
Cyclical, recursive, something else entirely? We can never really pin down the true nature of Rain World's cosmology, but the things we do get hint at something strange and unique. It's such an interesting aspect of the lore, and it seems like Videocult will continue to make mysterious cosmologies in their future projects...
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onmyyan · 16 days
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Yandere DC Purge Au
A/N: inspired by a bot on janitor ai here's the link reader is this universes wolverine fem reader, yandere themes
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Getting home from the Titans Tower, you shrug off your brown leather biker jacket, letting the heavy garment fall to the floor with an audible thump.
Boot clad feet accidentally kick a small black elegantly wrapped package that been slipped through your mail slot. (E/c) Eyes full of curiosity, you bend down to pick up the box, it was a little bigger than your hand, unable to fight the curiosity, you threw your helmet on the couch and used your sharp pointer finger nail to tear a seam into the paper, your mind moved a mile a minute as five neat letters in black envelopes were revealed.
Your heart falls to your stomach, you knew what these letters meant, what they entailed, you'd been chosen, and not by one yandere, but five. You didn't bother to read the letters, setting them down on your coffee table like the paper was going to bite you, sitting on the couch with a groan, your shoulders coiled like a animal ready to pounce. In all your 24 years you'd never had to deal with a yandere, while you were aware of them of course, your particular lifestyle didn't allow for such things, you were a hero after all, you couldn't help but tense, yes you were a formidable fighter, yes you had confidence in your abilities to defend yourself but five separate psycho's? That was a lot to deal with even for you.
You had a day to prepare, that's all the decency the government allowed people like her. A day to prepare for the insanity that was the Purge. All former plans for a quiet week off patrols were gone, replaced by your fierce determination. You wouldn't be caught, you'd been caged enough for your lifetime.
The next morning you make your way into the Titans Tower business as usual, you had no idea who the senders of the letters were so you kept your guard up.
It was a tradition for the team to hang out one last time before the purge, since all crime, including all yandere crime, was legal, the team technically got a week long vacation. So they liked to hangout the day before those infamous sirens would ring out across the city. The whole team was there, doing their usual things when you were approached by Rachel Roth aka Raven.
"Your mind is.. guarded tonight, are you alright?" Her soft monotone voice calls out dragging you from your mind, "Yeah just ..tense about tomorrow ya know?" Your voice gruff yet feminine, you didn't mind the fact that she was peaking into your head, having long since gotten used to her antics, instead you lean back on the counter surveying the room with a calculated gaze. You kept your thoughts clear knowing she had a penchant for reading your mind without permission, you didn't want to tell the team about the letters for a multitude of reasons, the main one being you didn't know if it was one of them who sent it. Of course you trusted your team but you'd learned long ago to trust yourself before anyone else.
And your enhanced animal like senses told you danger was a foot. "Any big plans for the week?" You ask casually still observing your other teammates.
"I rented a cabin in the snow, very tranquil, very secluded.." she paused a moment her dark eyes scanning your features, "You could come with me- if you don't want to spend the purge alone?" The question hung heavy in the air, the intensity in her gaze made you smirk, no way in hell were you taking a trip right now.
"I actually have some plans already." You smiled at the dark haired sorceress, trying to soothe the wound of denial. "Well if you at any point change your mind simply call for me and I'll be there." She says flatly, but her steel gaze was as intense as ever.
"Definitely." You respond before pushing off the counter, "I'm gonna hit the gym, see you later Rav."
'Well that was something' you thought to yourself, she'd always been attached to you, finding comfort in your troubled past, but she'd never looked so..like that before.
Shaking off the encounter you find yourself in the gym toned (s/c) arms stretching across your chest in preparation, a training dummy standing across from you. Just before you throw the first punch Conner aka Superboy walks in the room his arms crossed. "You wanna keep playing with that thing or you want a real fight?" The tall wall of a man asks walking closer to you, this wasn't out of the ordinary as you were one of the only people on the team who could keep up with Conner physically.
"let's go." You say getting into a fighting stance, your feet wide, fists in front of your face.
The spar was intense as usual with him, he didn't hold back, because of your healing factor he didn't need to, and you preferred it that way. You two danced around the mat swiping at each other, trading blows that would send a normal human to the grave. Your adamantium covered skeleton allowed you to land hits on him that actually sent him reeling. Your breath came out in heavy pants as Conner made an expert dodge, he sweeps his leg under you catching you off guard enough to stumble backwards, he grips your tank top stopping you from hitting the mat staring at you for a second too long before bringing you into a head lock, panting in your ear, "You give?" You could hear the smirk on his face, you growl under your breath, "Fuck off.", elbowing him hard enough to make him release you, instead of getting angry he just grins at you looking like an animal about to pounce.
The spar ends in a draw both of you covered in sweat, "you wanna hang out tomorrow?" He asks wiping his forehead, you pause thinking over the fact that tomorrow was the first night of the Purge, sure is didn't start until 7pm but it was risky as hell to go about business as usual on the day of.
"Sorry big guy I'm fully booked." The lie flows off your tongue easily enough, you couldn't risk getting Conner involved in whatever the yanderes had planned for you tomorrow, you also couldn't rule him out as a suspect yet.
The rest of your day is full of similar interactions with your team, Garfield aka Beast Boy had invited you over to his place for a gaming fueled sleepover, pouting when you decline, Kori aka Starfire had offered to straight up stay with you for the duration of the purge, looking absolutely confused as to why you'd said no.
The day ends with you gathering your things as you wouldn't be in the tower for a week. Damian, the current Robin and leader of your team walks over before you can leave. "I assume you've made preparations?" The enigmatic man spoke in that usual Damian tone that you could never quite get a read on. "I'll be fine." Was your simple answer. His green eyes studied you, taking in your response. He simply smirks at you before bidding you goodnight.
You got zero sleep that night the rainy Gotham skies a background to your inner turmoil. Your instincts said to run so you were. A few minutes before the sirens go off, you're in your garage, a duffle bag thrown over your shoulders, when you notice your bike's tires have been slashed, both of them deflated.
Cursing under your breath you steady your nerves before heading back up to your apartment. Navigating the streets of Gotham on the first night of the purge was a bad idea even for a self healing mutant with adamantium claws like yourself. Instead you choose to take the situation as it came, barricading the front door with a bookshelf, you pour yourself a double shot of whiskey and light the cigar you'd been saving for a special occasion.
The shrill terror inducing sound of the annual purge sirens go off on schedule, you remain unflinching as you prepare yourself for the inevitable encounter.
About five minutes after the bell stops ringing there's a loud knock on your door, the handle jingling seconds after, "(Y/n), open the door." The command was given pleadingly. You recognized that voice, the hairs on the back of your neck stand at attention. You were prepared for some nobody to try and claim you. Not him.
"We're getting in there no matter what so you may as well just," a loud bang shook the wood, "Open up." A second voice spoke out, this one just as familiar as the first, your heart fell to your stomach at the realization, the other three didn't need to speak for you to guess they were out there.
Your eyes quickly scan the window of your apartment, you were on the third floor but it was an easy drop for someone with your healing ability.
"Don't make this harder than it needs to be." The third gruff voice speaks before a gunshot is heard, the bastard had shot out your front door lock, a blue eye peaked in the hole locking onto you instantly a predatory look in the gaze. "There you are kitty." He says before glaring at the bookshelf in his way, it doesn't take much for him to start throwing his shoulder into the wood of the door.
"Don't scare her." The fourth voice chimed in but did nothing to stop the man barreling into your apartment. By the time the five entered you had already booked it out the window, your broken ankles healing as you sprint down the dimly lit Gotham streets.
"She's on the move." Bruce finally speaks, his authoritative voice left no room for argument. Damian was the first to act scaling down the apartment so fast he skipped some steps, he was a man on a mission.
Dick was quick to follow flipping out the window and landing gracefully before giving chase. Tim quickly pulled out a tablet tracking your every move.
Jason snarls at the chase, running after you like a beast on the hunt. Bruce follows behind in the batmobile with Tim guiding him to your location in the passenger seat, each man's heart burning for you.
The night had just begun and you were now playing a game you wanted no part in.
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hoe4sports · 1 month
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How this ends p3
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Alexia Putellas x reader
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 4
Thank you to @karsonromanoff for giving me inspiration and ideas for this part.
A note from the author: This is the third part of how this ends based off of Lewis Capaldi’s how this ends. Read the part’s chronologically. I have changed the age of them becoming a pair to 13, in order to make the story make more sense. Part four coming soon.
Also, fuck me, this was really shit.
Warnings: A lot of talking.
Summary: It’s been a few months since Alexia broke up with you and you handed over your promise ring to her. You and Frido make plans for the summer.
-
You found yourself sat in Frido’s spare bedroom, but by now; it was practically your bedroom. The thing about Fridolina was that you met her ages ago. Frido had been in the room when Alexia had told you that she had to miss out on an event she had promised to be a plus one to. It made you feel sad, but as the good girlfriend you were; you kept it inside. Fridolina had then suggested that she could tag along, which you happily agreed to. It was your first time being invited to such a big prestigious event so having someone familiar there was a big safety thing for you. The event was an invitation only charity event by the Red Cross. To your luck, Fridolina had actually volunteered for the organisation back in Sweden which lead her to be your first reserve.
The pair of you instantly hit it off, and from that moment; you were inseparable. She was what could’ve been described as a soul sister, the kind of friend that just gets you.
It had now been 2 months since you walked out of your Alexia’s apartment with everything you ever knew packed up in cardboard boxes that was shipped off to a storage unit until you could figure your life out. You hadn’t seen Alexia, not that you had made much of an effort. It felt like an emptiness, that slowly had started to close. The costs of it were clear, you stayed away from her part of the town. More so, you had avoided going to the places she would usually go.
Being the girlfriend of a famous athlete wasn’t for everyone, and you sure felt the statement in your bones. You see, you and Alexia had been together since you were teens. She had promised you a ring, a big white wedding, kids and a real house. Instead you got 10 years worth of waiting, a cat and an apartment not suitable for children. People had made up competitions based off of when Alexia would purpose to you, when you would have kids or what your next pet would be. The plans you had were now placed on the back burner.Life had just spun out in the worst possible scenario, but Frido was on a mission to help you heal.
“Y/N! Are you awake?”
You huffed and covered your head with the fluffy pillow hoping she would go away.
“Ugh, you are taking to long. Hide your titties, I’m coming in!”
You looked over at the door which a second later had Frido barging out of it. You giggled at her silly little manoeuvre. Her face showed off a surprised grin before she walked to the window and pulled the curtain apart to let sunlight in. She then turned around and laid down in the big bed next to you, while you kept looking at her.
“How are we feeling today, Y/N?”
“Like shit”
“Y/n..”
“Okay, fine. I’m feeling a bit less empty. More like, half full than half empty actually.”
“Do I sense a sliver of positivity? Have I just discovered something we thought was extinct?” Frido teased with a fake surprised grin, and you playfully shoved her shoulder while staring up at the ceiling.
“Honestly? I don’t know. I’m not sure where to begin. What to do about my job, you know? My job is social media, sadly built on being the girlfriend of a famous footballer”
“I have a solution”
Frido looked mischievous, and you could see the trouble a million miles away.
“Oh god, now what?”
“Until I can find a way to become keen on women so I can wife you up, then I’m sure some of the girls on the team would be happy to bag you! How about Jenni? Cata? Ona? Or, I think I even have the phone number of Leah Williamson and Mary Earps!”
Frido fished the phone out of her pocket and demonstrated by going through her contact list loudly. You just rolled your eyes at her again before giggling.
«Oh, Mackenzie Arnold! No, wait, she’s dating that aussie Girl»
«Okay wait, Ada Hegeberg? No, no. She’s straight and old.”
“Maybe this is the one! Lucy Bronze! No, that would be so weird”
“But, what about Alana Kennedy or Claire? You’d get to hang out with the Mathildas and I’m sure mini’s wife would love a extra set of hands”
“Wait, no, girl! Here, Jessie Fleming! She’s hot, and I’m pretty sure she likes all the photos you post!”
Frido was ass deep in her phone which made you smile at her. You loved her silliness. It always seemed to bring some joy into your life. Her suggestions were out of pure love and you could spend forever listening to her.
“Fridolina, I appreciate the effort but unless you are about to turn gay, then I think I’m taking a break from the whole dating a football player thing; didn’t seem to work out for me”
Frido stuck her tongue out playfully at you, before looking down at her phone again.
“How about that rugby player from the Olympics?Ilona Maher! Oh, wait. Straight. But then, what about the rower from Germany?”
You playfully smacked her in the back of her head with a pillow before Frido put her phone down and sighted. Frido dramatically threw her hands in the air while gesturing dramatically.
“You are gonna be alone until you turn 50! That cannot happen! I wanna be your bridesmaid, i wanna be a moster!
“Well, you might have a chance now since I’m not with alexia anymore. She wasn’t planning to purpose anytime soon, and she was for sure not having kids within the next 5 years. She’s gonna die alone with a bunch of cats while refusing to retire”
You looked at Frido; Frido looked at you while holding her head up. There was a silence before a smile appeared on both of your faces. You both broke into a laugh and laid down next to each other again.
“How about we go to breakfast? I’ll treat you”
You smiled. If there was anything you loved, it was to go out for breakfast. You hadn’t gone out for breakfast since you and Alexia were at least 2 years younger. The truth was that you missed it.
“I haven’t gone out for breakfast in forever. Alexia didn’t want to because of the calories”
Frido furrowed her brows in annoyance of Alexia.
“Fuck the calories, Fuck Alexia, I work hard to be able to have them”
You let out a chuckle.
“I think I have had enough of fucking Alexia for a lifetime, babe”
-
You found yourself sat down by the window in this beautiful little cafe. It had an almost magical view of the park with a river slithering through it and a view of the little playground. The sun was beaming outside, and it was peaking out from the lace curtains hanging from the ceiling.
The coffees you ordered arrived, and you took a sip of yours before breaking out in a disappointed grin. The grin on your face caused Frido to giggle, nearly spilling out the contents of her cup. She looked at your cup, and back at hers before pushing her cup towards you. You took a sip and instantly felt satisfied. Your eyes were practically seeing stars. Frido smiled before accepting your cup as hers. The gesture made your heart swell with pride of your bestfriend. Alexia hadn’t done anything like that for you since you were teens.
“You know how they say that women see it coming? I honestly think that I did see it coming, and that’s why I’m doing okay. It’s weird, but she was spilling away for years. She forgot all dates and dinners, and she would tell me that i could just go to be because she was gonna be home late. Like, it feels like the love died before our relationship did.”
“I get that, isn’t it like an intuition thing? I’m pretty sure i saw a tiktok about it from a psychiatrist earlier.”
“Intuition? Interesting. I guess you could say that, I mean, I’m sad of course. Anyone would be. But then again, I’m okay with her decision. I’ve come to terms with it. If she didn’t love me anymore, then it’s better that she ended things.”
“It’s just so odd, Y/N. I don’t understand why she ended things with you. She makes it seem like you weren’t together for over 10 years.”
“That’s actually funny, she never gave me a reason! Perhaps I didn’t do her laundry well enough or maybe my cooking is shit.”
You frowned a bit when things about all the things you probably did wrong. Frido raised an eyebrow before letting out a short laugh.
“What are you even on about, you mad woman! Your cooking is elite. You have better housewife skills than my mom. Gud, if i ever encounter the woman then i might have to end her.”
You laughed softly at Frido until you noticed that the server was coming over with two steaming plates. She sat them down in front of you and you looked up at Frido who were grinning from ear to ear.
“This looks delish! Devine! If I were out on the deathrow, this would be my last meal.” Frido joked while studying her plate.
“Let me take a quick story of you and the food, pretty please?”
Frido raised her brow at you in confusion. The worry in your pit appeared, but was quickly erased by Frido’s reassuring words.
“Babe, you don’t have to ask. I’ve already said that! You support my work by coming to games, even Sweden games. I support your work by appearing on your socials. Alexia really did rearrange your head, is that why she suddenly never appeared on your socials?”
You nodded before raising your shoulders. Your phone was grabbed from the table and Frido did a wink to you when you turned the frame in her direction. You placed down you phone before stabbing the pancake with your fork and dipping it in the Canadian syrup. The meal went on, and you talked about everything from your work to when Frido’s next international match was going to take place.
“The match is set for July 11th, it’s a home game at first before the return in Ireland.”
You nodded eagerly while having strawberries filling your mouth.
“I’m planning to head out a few days earlier. You know, to see Morsan and Pappa. My grandparents have also been missing me.”
You swallowed down the berries before taking a sip of coffee.
“Oh, how are things with Simon now? Is he still busy being needy?”
“Haha, I guess I didn’t tell you! I ended things with him, it just wasn’t working out”
You raised your brow in confusion before putting your fork down.
“But you were so in love just a few months ago go? What happened?”
Frido shrugged her shoulders while leaning backwards to her chair.
“It wasn’t really love, more like a friendly kind of love. I don’t really think I ever felt in love with him, you know. The butterflies kind of love?”
You nodded at her while giving her a sincere smile.
“Hot girl summer it is then!”
Frido laughed at you before smiling widely. The pair of you started eating before Frido’s head suddenly popped up towards you.
“Girl, you should come with me to Sweden! You can meet my family, I can show you my childhood memories and you can join me to Ireland! Wouldn’t that be fun?”
You looked at her, slightly skeptical.
“Are you sure? Not to be a party pooper, but have you asked the team?”
“I’m sure they’ll just be happy to have a social media specialist joining us! Besides, there are some pretty good looking girls on the squad.”
Frido winked before you giggled again. Nobody could make you laugh like Frido.
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A few weeks later you were sitting in your temporary bedroom at Frido’s while editing some content for your social media. It was an event you did a few months prior with an organisation that has volunteers who cleans the beaches. It was all done as a part of their summer campaign, and the deadline was creeping up on you. The issue was that Alexia had tagged along on the event, and you watched clips of you filing vlog style while other clips were filmed by a crew.
The clips made you feel numb, but this was work and it was already a done deal. You had already signed it, and Alexia had agreed to it earlier. You made a mental note to send Alexia a text about the video coming out before it was live. It was the last content you had of the pair of you together and quite a few of the huge amount of followers you had, had started questioning it. You had always been all about transparency, but this time it was different. This was personal, and it was something that needed time. At the same time, you felt like the fans deserved honesty from you.
You write down in your book to talk to your PR adviser about how to address it in the meeting that was coming up in a few days. But what was also coming up in a few days, was your trip with Frido. The excitement has finally started blossoming when she got the green light from her national team, and the trip could’nt have come at a better time.
“Y/N, hide your titties, I’m coming in!”
You giggled as Frido walked in with her hands over her eyes.
“You are all clear babe, no titties out. Besides when have I ever had my titties out?”
You asked in a sassy tone. Frido peeked through her hands before looking at you innocently while shrugging. She flopped onto your bed right next to you and pulled out her phone. She sat for a moment while you edited before she broke the silence.
“So, Alexia came to practice today”
You could feel your stomach drop to the ground. Your suddenly good mood turned into clouds and thunder.
“Good for her”
“Well, yes. But that’s besides the point. She asked about you.”
You felt yourself becoming protective and hostile when her name was mentioned. How dare she ask about you when she broke up with you? It made your blood boil, and your cheeks rushed with blood. You closed your MacBook before looking at Frido.
“What did she want?”
Frido looked at you.
“Do you want me to tell you the truth or what you want to hear?”
“The truth”
“She asked if she could come over to talk to you, and she handed me this. She said it belonged to you, that you forgot it behind.”
You looked at Frido with anger in your eyes. It was building up rapidly, like steam was about to come flying out of your ears. You couldn’t form a sentence, not even say a word. Frido looked apologetically at you.
“I’m sorry babe; but this is all yours. I’m gonna hop into the shower, i have dinner with Cata and Caro soon”
She moved to stand on her knees in the bed before she kissed the top of your head and walk out of the room, closing the door behind her. You looked at the box Alexia had sent with her, and you wanted to burn it up. You wanted to destroy it, to throw it off a cliff and to hand it in to a charity shop. Whatever was left in the box was something that you had been perfect without.
You sat and stared at the box for a good 30 minutes debating on whether to open it or not. The decision ended up on leaning into your natural curious side. You pulled the lid of the box before closing your eyes and holding the box infront of your face.
Your eyes opened up with a squint, scared to see what was inside.
The first thing you pulled up was a picture of your cat. Gosh, you thought to yourself. I’m going to get him back.
You reached into the box and found a picture of you and Alexia. It was taken at a water park when you were 14, and your families had decided to do a shared vacation.
Then your hand found a little box.
You picked it up and shook it.
You immediately knew what was inside.
The lid was pushed off.
There it was.
In all its shining glory.
The band of Alexia’s promise ring.
You instinctively closed your eyes.
You picked it up and turned it around to face you while having your eyes closed.
You flipped it around towards you.
You opened your eyes in agony.
Wrong.
It is your promise ring.
Or.
It was your promise ring.
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