#Sips and Trips Bundle

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#Sips and Trips Bundle #Oh Sip It Girl's Trip Svg #Girls Trip Shirt Svg #Girls Vacation Svg #Girl's Weekend Svg #Girls Svg #Girls Camping Svg #sketchbook #screenwriting

[peachsayshi]

Hello can I request a part 5 for the inexperienced reader where they finally do the deed? Thank you and I really love all your writings. You’re amazing!

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄ playboy geto x inexperienced female reader (part 4) ⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

wc: 7,712

·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰ previous parts: 1/2/3/4

minors / ageless blogs / blank blogs - do not interact.

notes: hi, nonnie! I haven't posted the official part 4 for playboy geto x reader, so here is an update! part 5 is the final part of this mini series and I am still figuring out the scenario for the big moment. I had this idea in my head and really wanted to write out. I hope you enjoy the update!

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ tags: other jjk characters are mentioned, virgin reader; lovesick geto & reader; hurt/comfort; the first fight; making up; smut; oral (f receiving); nipple play; overstimulation; fingering; practice makes perfect *wink wink*

There’s a downpour outside - a peaceful shower trapping you in a cocoon of stillness. Grey clouds collide, orchestrating a rumble of thunder to disperse across the horizon. You squeeze the glass of tea in your hand and breathe out a heavy sigh as you continue observing the waves crashing onto the shore in the distance.

Standing in pensive thought, you find yourself contemplating why the sky isn’t a saturated blue, and why you are not wiping away grains of sand between your toes while tasting the salt in the air and getting kissed by the sun in the red bikini that you are wearing.

This is your first weekend away with Suguru and it was supposed to be perfect…magical even, but…

You haven’t exchanged more than a few of sentences with him in two whole days.

The truth forms as a discomforting lump in your throat. At this point you’re convinced that the turbulent events of this week is what conjured up such a dreadful storm to hijack your mini vacation, and you’ve been a bundle of nerves ever since because you’ve never had a fight with him before.

Not a real one, anyway.

Whenever a situation got remotely tense, your boyfriend would be the first person to jump in to talk things out. Suguru hated having petty arguments and always relied on strong communication to put out any fires before they set everything ablaze. You know it’s entirely unfair to put that expectation on him but, the truth is, you’ve grown used to him mediating, and depended on him to squash potential disagreements without question.

What you weren’t expecting was for things to escalate between you two because it’s never happened before, and now you aren’t sure how to proceed.

What if he leaves me?

The nauseating thought of a potential break up twists your gut, but you brush off your anxiety as you lift the cup to your lips and take another sip of soothing chamomile.

Couples fight, you think, it’s normal to fight.

Your fingers pinch the ceramic so hard, you feel it might crack from the pressure. You’ve tried to reach out since then, but Suguru remained unresponsive to your little gestures of peace.

Why is he still ignoring me?

You lean your head against the window and exhale, eyes fixated on the storm’s dramatic performance. A bolt of lighting crackles across the sky, channeling you back to the night on Suguru’s sofa just two weeks prior.

His fingers were trailing the outline of your thigh, keeping your body tucked perfectly into his frame. You were twirling a strand of his onyx hair between your fingers, listening to him proposition the idea of the weekend trip away.

“Yuki is one of my oldest friends. She lives in a beach house, so that’s where we will all stay…” he casually stated. “We visit her a couple of times a year, and I know she would love to meet you.”

You said yes without hesitation.

At the time, there was no need for you to question who Yuki was or how Suguru knew her. There was no need for you to pry deeper into the memories of his past because you were just living in the bubble of present happiness.

“We used to spend every summer at her beach house while I was in university,” Suguru informed you a few days later, slipping in that tidbit of information right after describing all the places he was excited to take you to. “I love that her beach house is so far away from the city. Plus, they have the best soba in the village. You’ll love it, I just know you will…”

This deep infatuation you shared for Suguru had your heart swelling up more often around him. Your valves were arrows to a compass that always spun directly towards him, your shining North Star. Your eyes were glazed over in a rosy shine of deep romance, making it hard for you to blink away the hue of its affection, but you should have taken a breath to catch yourself.

Maybe then you wouldn’t have reacted so harshly later on.

The ”problem”, as Suguru dubs it, happened two days before the trip.

Shoko invited you to join her and Utahime on a shopping date to pick up some new swim suits for the occasion. However, you weren’t expecting to see Mei Mei upon arrival. Your friendship with Shoko made it easier for you to blend in with the rest of Suguru’s group, but Mei always kept you at an arm’s length. For the most part, you approached any interactions with her with caution. You made sure you were nice and didn’t try to pursue anything beyond cordial conversations. Despite your attempts at playing cool, Mei continued making snide remarks about you being “Suguru’s Girl” and enjoyed addressing you condescendingly.

Truthfully, she treated you as if you were simply a stranger with one foot out the door and not the person who was in a committed relationship with her friend.

Your eyes, powdered with pink infatuation, had you feeling indifferent about her sharp tongue on this particular outing, and it made you loosely speak up about how excited you were to go on this trip with your boyfriend.

Your walls were completely down when Mei went in with a new attack while you were all having dinner together.

“It’s adorable how excited you are. Besides, I think it’s about time that you met Kiki…” she giggled, earning a glare from both Shoko and Utahime.

“Kiki?” you replied like a naive child, all wide eyed with an innocent pinch between your brow.

“Suguru didn’t tell you?” Mei coos as she proceeds to take a sip of her milkshake. “That’s his special nickname for Yuki. The two of them used to spend their summers together getting high and fucking. She was his first, you know…”

Your cheeks were stinging with embarrassment. You glanced over to both Shoko and Utahime, praying that one of them would denounce Mei’s confession.

Instead, Shoko shook her head with disapproval and simply added, “we all know that it wasn’t serious…”

“Wasn’t serious?” Mei interjected, her cruel eyes fixed on you. “Suguru was in love with her…”

“He wasn’t in love with her,” Shoko sternly answered. “They were friends. Don’t make up stories in your head”

Mei swirled her straw around her vanilla milkshake. “We are his friends too but that didn’t stop him from hooking up with us either. The only difference is that Yuki is the one who broke his heart afterwards. Suguru didn’t speak to her for an entire year...”

“How about you don’t stir up problems for no reason, Mei.” Utahime bit back, and Mei responded by rolling her eyes with mild disinterest.

“I’m not saying anything that isn’t true. Everyone at this table, except Shoko, hooked up with Suguru at one point,” she let out a pretty laugh, one laced with wicked intent. “Maybe this is something we can all bond over at the beach house. Compare notes and what not…”

“How about we dial back the bitchy attitude and put the subject to rest” Shoko interjected, and Mei merely huffed before sipping her milkshake with nonchalance.

Hot, heavy jealousy coiled around your skin, and you used every ounce of restraint not to pick up Mei’s drink and toss it right in her face. By the time your brain was able to connect the dots to formulate even a single sentence, the conversation swiftly moved onto another subject.

You reached for your soda, slurping the icy beverage in an attempt to cool yourself off.

This isn’t the first time that Suguru’s friends have made teasing comments about his past, but Mei took it too far.

The worst part about that god-awful interaction is that it was working out in her favor.

Why didn’t Suguru tell you?

The question sat in your head up until you returned home. You were in a bitter state, choosing to curb Suguru’s calls and ignore Shoko’s messages.

She still called you the next morning with a heartfelt apology.

“We’ve all known Mei for years so we put up with her attitude,” Shoko explained, “But you owe her no allegiance and what she did was uncalled for. I’m really sorry about that…”

“It’s fine, Shoko…” you insisted, but your tone was hard and defensive because it wasn’t fine and you barely got any sleep thinking about what she said.

“I had a long conversation with her last night, and she’ll be backing off from now on,” Shoko consoled.

“Great,” you answered through gritted teeth, trying your best not to hurl the phone at the wall.

“Look,” Shoko added on with a sigh, “I know Suguru doesn’t have the best track record and I know we all give him shit for it, but we also all know that we’ve been too hard on him. He really, really cares about you.”

Tears pricked your eyes. You wished those words were enough to sway you back but they felt just as empty as the space in your chest.

Why didn’t he tell me?

You couldn't stop wondering why.

The day before you left for the getaway, you were giving Suguru the coldest shoulder. He had come over to help you pack your things, but instead was left puzzled by your behavior.

You leaned away from his kisses, always tilting so he aimed for your cheek. You shrugged off his touch, pretending to busy yourself with searching through your closet and picking your outfits. You could feel his piercing stare from over your shoulder, those dark eyes dissecting the softest parts of you to get to the root of the problem. You tried to focus on the music from gently playing through the speakers, but as you walked over to your bag to pack another dress, Suguru quickly reached for your hips to drag you onto his lap.

“What’s wrong?” he asked seriously, his voice the tip of a sharp blade pressing into your heart.

You shook your head, caressing the fabric between your fingers. “Nothing, I have a headache,” you repeated firmly, sticking to the same excuse that you had given him earlier.

“Sweetheart,” he replied tenderly, your body stiffening when he brushed his lips over your shoulder to leave a contemplative kiss. “What’s actually wrong?”

You froze, your anger scalding your insides as it bubbled to the surface. You squeeze the dress between your hands, creasing the smooth surface. Suguru rests his chin on your shoulder, patiently waiting for you to at least acknowledge him.

“Is it true that you were involved with “your friend” Yuki?”

You hid your hurt with sarcasm, her name rolling off your tongue with a hint of disgust.

Suguru lifted his head from your chin, his fingers pinching against the fat of your hip while his other hand moved to reach for your jaw. He angled your face towards him, a pained expression masking over his breathtaking features.

“Who told you?”

“Mei,” you answered sharply, “apparently Shoko and Utahime know all about it too…”

“Look,” Suguru sighed, “it’s…it’s not what you think…”

“Did you to spend your summers getting high and fucking?” you interrupted harshly, mimicking the cruelty in Mei’s voice as you posed your question.

Suguru closed his eyes. “Yes.”

“Is it true that she was your first?” you asked, your voice wavering slightly this time.

“Yes, but…”

You rolled your tear soaked eyes as you stood up on your feet, tossing the dress into your bag as you folded your arms across your chest to give Suguru your back.

You weren’t sure what hurt more. The fact that Mei had all the ammunition in the world to hurt your feelings, or that she knew that your doting boyfriend would keep this from you.

Suguru stood up, carefully approaching you from behind as he extended his hand out to find your waist once more.

“Mei’s a gossip,” he contended, “I told you that when we first met…”

You spun on your heel to meet his anxious stare, drilling your fury right into him.

“That’s not the point,” you argued. “The point is that you lied to me! The point is that you spent weeks going on and on about “your friend” without even warning me that you were both intimately involved…”

“We put that shit behind us years ago. I didn’t want to bring it up, and I didn’t think I had to. Mei shouldn’t have said anything.”

“Didn’t think you had to?” you repeated with confusion.

“There was no reason to,” he replied with annoyance, his fingers digging into your waist. “Because you and I are supposed to trust each other, and considering how things have been going between us, I thought we did.”

Your heart raced at the fact that Suguru was still keeping his mouth tight lipped over what happened with Yuki, which did little to help your own dramatized theories on their relationship.

If he was being secretive about something as serious as this, then who knows what other tales he might have been spinning with that honeyed mouth of his.

The knot that’s wrung itself around your mind finally snapped.

“Easy for you to say, you don’t have an inventory of people I slept with to keep track of…”

Suguru winced, the involuntary grimace an unusual sign of hurt. Your apology shot to the tip of your tongue, and you were ready to jump right into his arms and plead for forgiveness. This brutish commentary was so unlike you, but you didn’t know how to keep a handle on your own insecurities this time around.

“Keep track, huh?” he answered softly, the faintest hint of distress coming through and making you nip at your bottom lip out of guilt. “Must be hard having a boyfriend who is so used up…”

“No...you're not. That's not what I mean, I’m…I’m just saying that it’s different,” you retracted, easing your delivery to try and explain yourself. “You just don’t have to worry-”

“Is there a reason for you to worry?” he rebuked, quirking his brow in genuine surprise.

You scoffed, “You told me about everyone else you’ve been involved with but with her you are suddenly keeping quiet-”

“Please, tell me you’re fucking joking right now-“

“You can’t-” you interjected, clearing the catch in your throat as your voice warbled uncomfortably. “You can’t just expect me to be okay with this, Suguru. I have to be able to trust you and that’s only going to work if you are honest with me. Keeping something like this from me doesn’t help…”

Suguru dropped his hand away from your waist, and folded them over his chest tightly. There was a twitch in his jaw, and the disappointment in his eyes spoke volumes. You both stood there in silence, studying the other in deep concentration.

“I thought you did trust me. You were practically naked in bed with me when you said it. So what is it then? Do you trust me or not?”

Your face grew increasingly hot recalling his birthday, the way you were soft, vulnerable and pliable sprawled out against his chest...

“I do…” you replied with very little confidence. “Sort of…”

You swallowed your regret to stare down at your feet shamefully, and allowing your pride to fight the battle for you. If you can waver his insecurity even a little then maybe you might find some equal footing with the discomfort.

“I can’t change my past. I can’t erase the people I’ve been involved with. Yes, we both had different opinions about how we viewed relationships, but we aren’t going last long as a couple if I’m the only one that has faith that this is going to work,” Suguru informed calmly, using his fingers to gesture between you both.

Hearing those words from your lover’s lips felt like surprise blow. You parted your mouth to exhale quietly, clenching your hands tightly by your side as you naively waited for him to attempt to turn things around.

“I’ve given you everything. I’m not going to force you to trust me,” Suguru adds on, his tone morphing into a cold, cruel note. “And if you fucking can’t, then I’m done.”

Your head shot up in surprise, the front of your brows upturning sorrowfully but Suguru had already turned on his heel to walk out of the room, slamming your bedroom door right behind him.

__________________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐ ┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊ ⋆˚ ✧. ┊ ⋆ ★

The car ride to the beach house was terrible.

Neither you or Suguru said a single word to one another. He kept his focus on the road, while you kept replaying the words “I’m done” on repeat in your head.

It was disappointing to start off on such a sour note because Yuki’s beach house was the perfect getaway spot as Suguru described. The location was rural, and the building was quaint and cozy. The size is big enough to fit your entire group, but not to the point where it was gaudy. Suguru mentioned that the property belonged to Yuki’s mom, which she eventually inherited after she passed away.

Meeting Yuki took your breath away. From the moment you laid eyes on her you understood how a young Suguru would be infatuated. She was striking - tall, with long, golden hair that cascaded all the way down to her butt. Every part of her was perfect, from her toned tummy revealed by her short black cropped top, to her legs that seemed to go on forever which were covered in only a pair of loose denim shorts. She had a naturally cheeky grin, like there was something up her sleeve that no one could quite point out, and sharp brown eyes that were simply inviting.

She pulled Suguru in for a warm hug, and ruffled his hair like a sister would.

“Sug! Your hair’s getting long! I like it!” she chirped with a big smile, while Suguru held an effortlessly casual stance to play off that the two of you haven’t been ignoring each other this whole time. Yuki instantly turned to face you, “And you must be the girl that stole his heart! I’m so glad to meet you! This guy never shuts up about you…”

You felt small against her, and it wasn’t just due to her height. You could feel yourself shrinking into your own shame hearing her talk about your lover. Whatever doubts that sparked due to Mei’s burning statements were quickly turned to ash.

Yuki gave you a house tour and explained that Shoko was sharing a room with Mei and Utahime, while Satoru and Nanami bunked in another.

“If you’re comfortable you can stay in Suguru’s room. He kind of has his own bedroom from how often he’s stayed with me. If not, I’ve got a pull out sofa in my room,” Yuki informed, while you were trying your hardest to undo the tight knot in your belly.

Getting to know Yuki over the course of the two days only fed into your regret. You couldn’t help but watch her interactions with Suguru, only to conclude it was no different than how he behaved with Satoru and Shoko.

Even when he addressed her as “Kiki”, it came out with a level of comfort that felt a familial familiarity. If it wasn’t for Mei and her devious manipulation games, you would never have even have assumed that the pair were intimately involved with each other.

As your stubbornness started chipping away, you decided to at least try and make amends with your boyfriend.

On the first night, after getting ready for bed, you broke the long hours of silence by asking him where he was going after watching him get ready to leave the room that you both were supposed to be sharing.

“I’m staying with Satoru,” he curtly responded, and slammed the door behind him before you could get another word in.

Yesterday was painful to say the least. You attempted to sit down with him and Satoru for breakfast, but Suguru excused himself only a couple of minutes later. By mid-morning you texted to ask if he would like to join you and Shoko to walk around the village. You even brought up his favorite soba shop, but found yourself left on read.

His behavior was harsh and quite obvious. By lunchtime Shoko pulled you aside to ask if everything was okay.

“We’re fine,” you answered breathlessly, your worry sending tingles to the tips of your fingers and toes. “We got into a bit of an argument in the car, but we’ll talk things over”

Dinner last night was supposed to be a fun get together at one of the local omakase joints, but it turned into you and Suguru sitting on opposite sides of the table barely acknowledging each other.

You were trying to steal his glance, but he wouldn’t stop avoiding yours. Afterwards while all of you were standing outside, you found the courage to reach for Suguru’s hand to grab his attention.

“Hey,” you whispered low enough for only him to hear to avoid making it obvious to the others. Your heart fluttered when you noticed that Suguru didn’t let go of your hand, but instead pressed the pads of his fingers lightly against your palm to return the gesture.

Almost like he was saying hello.

“Do you maybe want to go for a walk?” you asked, eyes hopeful and desperate. “It’s nice outside tonight, don’t you think?”

You couldn’t gauge what he was thinking, but you paid close attention to his reactions. Like the way his eyes dipped to your fingers slightly interlaced with his own, and how his digits were merely tracing yours in the most featherlight touch.

Did he miss you too?

“I’m going out with Yuki tonight,” he announced, his tone sharp and daring.

Your heart winced.

You weren’t used to this side of Suguru at all.

You let go of his hand, and nodded your head to feign acceptance but your throat was tight and tears were glazing over your woeful irises.

“Oh, okay!” you answered with as much confidence as you could muster up. “I guess…I guess I’ll see what Shoko is up to. And-”

Your voice cracked when Suguru let go of your hand. The emptiness a cold touch against your palm.

“I-I hope you guys have fun catching up tonight-“

Suguru nodded his head, taking your breath away for only a second when he leans forward to leave a chaste kiss on your brow. Not giving you a chance to finish your statement.

The gesture shatters you, because you know that it wasn’t genuine.

He was simply putting on a show, keeping up appearances so that the others don't suspect that something is wrong.

You cry yourself to sleep all alone in bed, all the while holding onto the hope that he might just show up to remind you that everything is okay.

__________________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐ ┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊ ⋆˚ ✧. ┊ ⋆ ★

You’re still staring out the window, watching the droplets trickle down the glass. Lost in the peaceful moment, you barely hear Suguru enter the bedroom, which is why you jump in shock when you suddenly notice a large hand press firmly against the glass by your side.

“It’s pouring, huh?”

His voice, smooth like velvet and soft like storm clouds sent a tremor of desire in your belly. You steadied the cup in your hand, sensing your body trapped between the window and your boyfriend who was now standing prominently right behind you.

“Yeah,” you whisper quietly, your chest rising and falling with anticipation.

You watch him tap his index finger against the glass, your gaze falling to the bracelet on his wrist. It was the other gift that you gave him on his birthday, and he hasn’t taken it off since. The rain patters outside, the white noise your safety barrier against the awkward tension, but you can feel it brewing behind your spine as you steady your breathing.

“Where did you stay last night?” you ask with a mousy voice, hoping that your tone wasn’t coming across as accusatory but simply concerned for wanting to check in on Suguru’s whereabouts.

“Yuki’s room, we were up late talking…” he responds gently, a hint of amusement in his voice but not one that was cruel. “She told me I could sleep on her pull out only after admitting that I’m acting like a little bitch…”

Your mouth naturally ticked into a smile at his playful tone, and you sink your teeth into your lower lip with relief from the casual delivery.

He huffs out a small laugh, "in case you're wondering, I just so happen to agree with her."

“It’s not just you,” you acknowledge, finding the courage to slowly spin on your heel so you can face him. “I started all of this…”

“Yeah, but you’ve been trying to fix it and I’ve been difficult about it…”

Your body crumples when your eyes met his, the power of his gaze forcing you to press your back against the window to stop yourself from buckling at the knees. His yearning matches yours, and the tension in your shoulders relaxes slightly when you note that he might have actually have been missing you too.

The ease in his expression is a white flag of surrender.

You place your tea cup on the table by your side. “I shouldn’t have let Mei get to me,” you admit, “I was caught off guard, and I took my anger out on you…”

“I shouldn’t have put you in that position,” Suguru adds on, shaking his head in disbelief over his own decision. “I should have been upfront with you about Yuki from the star, I just-” He drops his hand away from the window to find yours, and takes both of them between his fingers. His thumb smooths over your knuckles, his grip firm and protective.

“I just didn’t want to give another reason not to trust me”

Your brows furrow with confusion, and Suguru sighs.

“My family were in a bind financially. Even though I got a full scholarship to univerisity, there still wasn’t enough money to put both Mimi and Nana through school. I've known Yuki since I was sixteen. She told me to spend the summers with her and hooked me up with well paying jobs ,” he explains solemnly, almost like he is ashamed by the situation entirely. “So, that’s what I did. Her mom never stayed during the summer break. And yeah, shit happened between us. We’d get high, fuck around, drink, party…but it was just…a release.  It didn’t mean anything else. I swear…”

“Mei said that you loved her,” you fill in, piecing together parts of your own personal indignation. “I think that’s what really got me. Especially when you didn’t tell me yourself. I couldn’t wrap my mind around the secrecy…”

Suguru scoffs, “Mei says that only because I went back summer after summer. I didn’t let anyone else know the real reason why. They had no fucking clue what was going on with me and my last summer with Yuki is when we decided to stop but I-I fucked it up…”

You could see the strain on Suguru’s face, and you squeezed his hand reassuringly to let him know that he could share whatever he needed to say.

“There was this girl that Yuki liked. I mean, really liked. She wouldn’t shut up about her. She was the reason why we stopped sleeping together. One night while we all went out, I got…carried away. I drank too much, I smoked too much, I wasn’t fucking thinking. I don’t even really remember what happened, but when I woke up the next morning…the girl was in my bed. When Yuki found us, she was…heartbroken. She didn’t speak to me for a year, and…I was devastated because her friendship means everything to me. She was the only person who knew how bad things were, and I returned the favor by…well, being myself, I guess…”

“Suguru, don’t say that…” you blurt out, your hands letting go of his as you eagerly clasp his jaw with equal protection. “I see you with your friends. You’re so loyal, and would give them everything if they asked. For somebody whose always so put together, what you did…is so out of character…”

He winced, his eyes narrowing with humiliation but it only taps into your empathy.

You bring his face closer, press your forehead to his own and notice him flutter his eyes close.

“You rarely talk about how hard it was with your family,” you mumble so close to his lips, keeping the conversation as private as possible even though it’s only the two of you in the room together. “I can’t even imagine the kind of pressure you must have been feeling. If you and Yuki are as close as you say are you, I’m sure she came around because she must have seen it too…”

His hands find your your bare waist. “She was the only one who could see it. Satoru, Shoko…it went over their heads…”

The quiet loops in right then, a rumble of thunder echoing in the distance. The hurt in Suguru's voice was loud and clear. The fact that he's always been there, but is so easily forgotten in the long run.

“I need to know,” Suguru confesses, his shoulders slumping in defeat. “I need to know what else it’s going to take to get you to trust me because the odds are stacked up against me, sweetheart. And if I can’t make it happen, then I don’t have a single fucking shot at making us happen…”

The sting of regret burns your cheeks once more, and you extend your arms out to circle around your boyfriend’s neck. You want to kick yourself for making him doubt himself, especially after he working so incredibly hard to earn your favor.

“I swore I would never throw your past in your face. I’m so sorry that I did. You’re not the same guy that the people in your life paint you out to be, and I shouldn’t have let them try to convince me otherwise,”

You seal your apology with a small kiss to the corner of his lip, goosebumps pebbling your skin from Suguru’s thumbs tracing tiny streaks up and down your belly. “For whatever reason we don’t seem to make sense to anyone around us…”

When Suguru finds your eyes, you lose yourself into a dark abyss, sinking back into the depths of his soul.

“Is that how you feel too?” he questions seriously, “that we don’t make sense?”

You shake your head instantly to disregard the claim.

“Being with you is the only thing that I seem to understand, and I think that’s why I’m so scared to let you in,” you admit, the past forty eight hours of desperation formulating the next statement on the tip of your tongue. “I’m falling in love with you, Suguru. And-And I can’t seem to stop it from happening…”

Your breathless at the proclamation, your heart hammering so hard in your chest like it’s ready to burst out and bury itself into Suguru’s instead.

You watch your lover pull back slightly, his brows raise with astonishment.

“In love…” he breathes, like he can't believe the words himself, “with me?”

You nod your head, your hands roaming back to the front of his chest where you can feel his own stammering heart against your palm.

"Yeah, with you."

Suguru withers into your touch, his hand cradling your jaw as he dips in to press his mouth over yours. He parts his tongue to deepen the kiss, the weight of his body pushing yours into the surface, where behind you lightning bolts across the sky and grey clouds envelop you both in a shadowy cocoon.

__________________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐ ┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊ ⋆˚ ✧. ┊ ⋆ ★

You freely unravel, your joy sparking from the tips of your toe as to the top of your head knowing that your lover has chosen not to abandon you, knowing that you both are desperately seeking forgiveness.

You swear to yourself that it’ll never get this far again.

Suguru baptizes you with his kiss; it was a long reminder of your submission, of fully surrendering your feelings towards him. In between he moves your body, away from the glass and across the room, until you're pinned underneath him on the bed. He uses one hand to undo the wrap skirt around your waist, leaving you clad in your bikini to bathe under the light of his love instead.

His index finger loops around the string of your bikini top. He pulls away from the wet kiss, the tip of his nose lightly brushing your own, with the heat pooling in those dark irises enough to singe your skin.

“I’m not done with you,” he confirms, going back to the statement that ate away at you like a parasite. “Truthfully, I don’t think I’ll ever be…”

A lock of his hair brushes his brow, and you move it aside to kiss the space.

“Even if you were, I’m not willing to let you go that easily,” you counter because you need him to hear it. You need him to understand that you see what he’s put into this relationship and that you are more than willing to return the effort.

He smiles, and it’s devastatingly perfect it makes you want to scream at the heavens for allowing someone to be this beautiful.

“Still think I’m worth the trouble?”

Your fingers trace down the bridge of his nose, your heart gooey and soft in more ways than you can understand.

“I’m the luckiest girl in the world to have you, Sugu.”

His head tilts with curiosity, eyes drooping in contemplation. He doesn’t say it but you can hear him asking “are you sure?”, but his doubt is enough for you to seal the truth with a kiss, and when Suguru returns it, you’re once again dissolving in his affection.

Your limbs tangle into one another, your bodies pressed so close that you can feel every hard muscle. The bed sheet rumples, is lifted away from the corners as it gathers messily. Suguru’s hand glides up your torso, over the swell of your breasts, and he hooks his fingers around your throat to tilt your neck to the side and allowing him the access to kiss the column.

You thoughtfully sigh, your eyes fluttering close at the sensation of him sucking on your delicate flesh. He leaves a trail in his wake, and you shiver when his hot breath fans your ear.

“Can I ask you something?” he questions in a hush tone, his voice dipping down an octave and sprinkled with desire.

You nod your head.

“Can I go down on you?”

Your body seizes, every single cell on fire. There’s a catch in your throat, and your thighs clench together nervously at the suggestion.

You tilt your head back to face him, your noses and lips bumping in the process. “I-I can do it for you-”

He interrupts you by shaking his head, his mouth carefully kissing your cupid’s bow. “You’ve gone down on me three times already…”

You can feel yourself soaking through your bottoms. A mixture of pleasure and shame heating your cheeks.

“But...what if-what if you don’t like it? I read somewhere that not all guys do...”

Suguru scoffs, baring his teeth as he gives you a full grin. He prods the tips of his nose onto yours, wiggling it teasingly from side to side.

“You’re so fucking cute,” he confesses before adding, “I promise you, I’ll like it”

Your heart is beating so fast you can’t think, but your body speaks another language as your thighs naturally spread a little wider to invite him in.

“Okay, yeah-” you consent, “yeah, you can…”

He smirks, his hands tracing to the strings of your bottoms. You lift your hips, watching him shimmy the fabric down your legs. He stuffs the material in his back pocket, his palms spreading your inner thighs apart.

You sit yourself up on your forearms to study your boyfriend with intrigue.

“God, you’re so fucking pretty…” he sighs, his attention focused on the triangle between your legs, and your belly flutters at the direct compliment.

He doesn’t move for a second, his hands adding the slightest bit of pressure on the meat of your thighs. He licks his lips and breathes out once more, taking just a second to compose himself.

“It’ll only feel good, no pain,” he informs, “but if it’s too much for you, just tell me and I’ll stop, okay?”

Your hips relax further into the mattress, his assurance easing some of your apprehension. Your boyfriend knows how sensitive you are at this point, but you nod your in head in acknowledgement while gratefully appreciating that he regards you with such consideration.

He kisses up the apex of your thigh, carefully avoiding your sex to find a path to you hips. His tongue is sof and warm, tasting every part of your skin as it travels across your lower belly and further down your pubis. You gasp at the sensation of his breath so close to your cunt, your calf twitching when he finally places a gentle kiss on your lips.

And another kiss.

And another kiss.

And a fourth until your toes curl and he finally flattens his tongue along the slit.

“Oh,” you coo, the sensation so delicate and delicious. Suguru drags his love between your folds, up and down, and side to decide, his mouth circling around each lip as he sucks on them in between returning to glide his tongue around.

Your legs clasp around his neck, your heels resting comfortably on his back. The sound of Suguru sucking and licking up your pussy reverberates along with the storm outside. He reaches one arm to find your hand, and you intertwine your fingers to hold him tightly. His other hand slithers up your torso, and slips underneath your bikini top. He pushes the fabric above your breast, his thumb and index finger finding your tender nipple which he massages steadily as his uses his mouth to pleasure you.

The sensation builds, filters throughout your body in waves that roll over and over again. You squeak when he sucks on your clit, your heels pressing into his back but the weight of his body holds you in place to keep you from wandering away.

Your brows furrow, little tremors shaking your collar bones and your belly. “Suguru,” you whine sweetly, a moan following after when he pinches your nipple and nibbles on your clit. He lets go of your hand, his touch traveling down to your legs. He spreads your pussy, giving himself more access to bury his soft tongue deeper, further, to taste more of your nectar as it dribbles down his chest like he’s biting into fruit.

He groans into your cunt.

He grazes his tongue over your weeping hole, and your body thrashes with anguish and rapture. Your eyes spark in white, glittering like the lightning as it bursts and recedes into the ceiling above you. The band in your core is a tight spring that finally unfurls quickly and quite suddenly, your orgasm unfolding throughout your stuttering body.

“Oh, god…” you cry out, your back arching as Suguru keeps his mouth over your cunt, his hand holding you down by your lower body.

You gasp, panting heavily trying to cope with the aftermath. You think that Suguru might stop, but instead you feel him paint kisses all over your sex, rolling your nipple between his finger and moving to suck on your throbbing clit.

“Sugu?” you call out, your spine shuddering.

“Hmm?” he answers, his tongue massaging across the bud.

“You’re still…” you whimper, “you’re still going?”

He releases you with a pop, blowing air over the swollen bud before smiling into another kiss.

“You have no idea how long I can keep going”

Suguru only manages to keep his word by delivering another orgasm with his mouth buried against your cunt. You had tears in your eyes when you came, panting out “no more” with desperation because you couldn’t handle the detachment you were feeling in your own skin.

It feels so fucking good, but all too much at the same time.

Suguru doesn’t push. He won’t test his boundaries right now. Not when you’re just a vulnerable kitten in his eyes. No, the stamina will require time and patience, and for you to get used to him in the bedroom as well.

His disappointments sits between his brows when he pulls away, his hand smoothing over the curve of your pelvis as he kisses your hip and lower belly. He crawls over you like a panther, his shoulder blades rising with each calculative moment. You can smell yourself against his lips, savor your own arousal when he dips in for a kiss.

“Taste like heaven, baby girl,” he mumbles, his balmy words running over your skin like hot oil. “I could eat you out all night…”

He traces the column of your neck with his lips, and grins into your skin. You’re too shy to say anything, and he knows it. He presses his mouth against your neck, pecking over the marks that he’s imprinted.

Your hands fumble to reach for his jeans, your body desperate to do something for him too but Suguru grabs your wrists and pins them to your side before standing upright and undoing his jeans himself.

“Relax,” he insists.

Your eyes fall to his large hands undoing the button, and then unzipping the front of his pants. His grey boxers have a noticeable wet spot, and your pupils dilate when he pulls his dick out for you to see.

You tuck your bottom lip between your teeth, waiting to see what he’ll do next. He pumps his cock a few times, sighing heavily as his thumb runs over the slit. To your surprise he shifts his position, and adjusts himself until he’s perfectly aligned with you.

He taps the fat, mushroom head over your clit. “You just open up for me, don’t you?” he whispers deviously, “Let’s practice…”

He slides his dick back and forth over your slit, supports his movements by holding both your knees as he grinds his length against your cunt.

“See how far I’ll stretch you out?” he mumbles, eyes hazy with hunger. “See how deep I’ll go?”

He slides his hands up and down your thighs, rocking back and forth and using you for friction. Soft grunts and moans escape him, and in between he halts for only a second when your quivering hand finds his length. His hips stutter when you start to lightly jack him off, your thumb teasing over the head.

Your eyes fall close, imagine the burn of him spreading you apart, of him making love to your body as you mold into his frame. To feel him in all his glory, for your bodies to become.

The image is raw, vulnerable, and so, so perfect.

There is nobody else you would rather give yourself too.

Suguru is the one.

“I can’t wait,” you beg dreamily, “Need you inside me, I can’t wait-”

His grip on you tightens out of surprise upon hearing your words, and he suddenly thrusts harshly as he curses out a broken “fuck”. Ribbons of white spurt out of him, painting your belly and tainting parts of your chest.

The both of you freeze as you look down, caught off guard by what just happened.

__________________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐ ┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊ ⋆˚ ✧. ┊ ⋆ ★

Suguru cleaned you up using a wet towel to wipe his cum off your belly and chest. You discarded your bikini top afterwards while he removed his jeans, with the two of you then choosing to snuggle up against one another under the sheet.

“That’s never happened to me before,” Suguru confesses, finally breaking the silence. There was a slight blush tinting his cheek bones, and you giggle as you cradle his face in your palm and trace the shade of red.

“You’re usually so in control,” you playfully remark, and Suguru simply rolls his eyes.

“Not with you, I’m not,” he admits, his arm clenching around your waist as he closes the gap of space to tuck you into his chest.

You breathe in his scent, nuzzling your nose into the fabric of his tee.

"I'm glad we're okay now."

"I am too"

You curl your fingers around his shirt. “On your birthday, and just now…we could’ve…just gone all the way. You could’ve just-”

“Not here,” Suguru states seriously, the intensity in his voice prompting you to tilt your chin up and meet his stare. He plays with your ear, traces the shell thoughtfully before gently tugging on your lobe.

The butterflies flutter once again, your irises tinting in pink. You lean forward to kiss the sharp angle of his jaw.

“What was it like for you? Your first time?”

Suguru sighs, and purses his lips as he contemplates the memory. “Yuki was good to me, and it was nice,” he admits, but you’re entranced with the way he holds your gaze. “I sure as hell wasn’t as nervous as I am now…”

“Is that why you keep holding back?” you question innocently, apropping yourself on your elbow to rest your head on your hand. The bed sheet falling and exposing your chest.

Suguru’s eyes fall, his touch tracing the slope to outline the curve of your breast. “Do you want your first time to happen after a petty argument?”

You pout your lips with amusement. “Does it matter?”

“You’re not the only one who might be in love, sweetheart,” he responds, his words greeting the shining sun peeking through the clouds. “Of course it matters.”

__________________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐ ┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊ ⋆˚ ✧. ┊ ⋆ ★

tags: @sellenite @kiwibao @allofffmypeaches @sugurussbby @kunigamisbaby @pandoraium @brownskinnedgirll

my works are available on tumblr and ao3 - any fics reposted on other platforms or other Tumblr blogs have been plagiarized. do not share my works on social media (tiktok etc.) © peachsayshi 

#playboy geto x inexperienced reader #geto x reader #geto x y/n #geto x you #suguru geto x reader #suguru geto x you #suguru geto x y/n #geto smut #suguru geto smut #geto angst #suguru geto angst #hurt/comfort #jujutsu kaisen fan fictions

[taintedcigs]

Steve loves driving you around.

Picking you up, dropping you off, random late night drives, random 'please come with me to run some errand' drives.

Everything.

You always assume he would hate it, get bored, annoyed, from having you just sitting there. But it's all he wants. needs.

Have you right there by him, pretty smile curving on your lips, the light wind from the cranked down windows whiffling through your skin, hair, causing your scent to linger in the air. Comfort filling the space.

His thick palm gripping the wheel, while the other is lightly pressed upon your thigh, squeezing three times to let you know he is there, protective, sticky-sweet, enough to fill your stomach with all the butterflies.

Your hands return the favor, tender fingertips brushing against his possessive grip, almost to ground him, bring him all the comfort he needs, his world turning on its axis every time he realizes you're his. How lucky he is to have you by his side.

You glance at him with your nose scrunched, smile adorning your glossed lips, he wants to kiss it all over, run his fingertips along your features, admire it, have it etched on to his brain. He'd do just about anything to see your pretty expressions.

Yet, all he can utter are endless compliments, "s'pretty... just like an angel, hmm?" He admires the heat traveling up to your cheeks, smile growing wider as you tell him to stop, but he could never.

He brings your hand to his lips, pressing gentle kisses all over the back of it, warmth traveling through him instantly.

Rest of the ride is filled with shared, tender kisses, whispers of compliments, and the two of you singing along to your favorite songs he made a mixtape of, it's nothing short of caring, attentive, and everything you need wrapped up in a bundle.

He hates when it ends, when he inevitably has to drop you off to your destination, heart leaping out of his chest when that small smile disappears from your lips. His does too - knowing that the warmth and comfort would leave with you.

"What time should I pick you up, honey?" It always makes you feel bad, like some sort of a burden, and he can sense it in your anxious gaze.

"Stevie, y'know I can just walk-" And he tuts quickly, never letting you finish. You don't realize it, how much he enjoys this - the comfort you bring to him just being by his side, and his incessant need to keep you safe.

"Nuh-uh, will you be done by 8:30?" He asks with a smile, you tilt your head with a narrowed gaze, all adorably that Steve melts, all over again.

"Steve."

"Sweetheart," he parrots, wicked grin on his lips that makes you giggle, dreamy gaze that you can't say no to. "Mhmm, 8:30 is perfectly fine," you give in, so easily, so quickly, giving him comfort when he leaves you with a simple goodbye kiss.

And just like promised, he's there, at 8:30 - not a minute late, with that beaming smile, glint in his gaze that makes you feel so giddy that you skip your way into his BMW.

Steve turns toward you with a beaming grin, one hand holding the door open, while the other is stuffed with a bouquet of flowers, warmth filling your heart instantly.

You squeal at the lilac Asters and the eggshell white Baby's breath adorning the bouquet - you know to acquire those flowers he had to make an almost twenty minutes trip away from Hawkins, but Steve would do anything for you. Speechless and grateful, your big doe-eyes look up at him, tears almost welling, before you can speak, he gives you a light kiss.

"I picked up something to eat on my way here," he mumbles, smile so big his cheeks hurt from the stretch, but he can't help it. He'd do anything for you, his pretty, pretty girl.

And he knows you so well.

The two of you drive back the same way he got you there, munching on the fries, his hand on your thigh while you helped him sip on his cherry coke, telling him about your day, his mixtape for you serves as a background drop.

And he doesn't understand how you'd think you could ever be a burden, because that's all he wants anyway, to take care of you, have his passenger princess by his side.

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington blurbs #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fluff #enjoy this stupidity i found in my drafts. SIGH.

[ventismacchiato]

O3 stuck with you — pr team in shambles !

scaramouche x gender neutral reader

The night was alive and the air was thick with multiple lights and smoke that you could have been underwater. It was a completely different world compared to the lonely nights you were used to staying up late to practice. You could hear the roar of the fans and music thrumming straight through your body and into your eardrums as the performances came to an end. Bodies moved around you like sweaty gnats backstage as you and Windblume found your seats for the award show portion of the night.

A cold glass was handed to you, liquid sloshing precariously against the edge. You brought the drink to your lips, the burning sensation of the alcohol doing nothing to calm your nerves. All the glares and side-eyes Scaramouche had sent your way throughout the night were ingrained into your mind. You were ninety-nine percent sure he had tried to trip you earlier during the red carpet, but you held no proof. 

You blindly clapped along as the award show portion commenced, all while hiding the shaking of your legs and trying to remember to force a smile for the cameras panning over your table, as an attempt to avoid any twitter scandals saying you weren’t happy for any of the other attendees. The anticipation was thick and your mind was blank. This was the first year both of your company’s groups had qualified for the top artist award and you had been a bundle of anxiety ever since.

You look to your right to see Scaramouche leaned back in his seat, lazily sipping on his nth glass of wine. It annoyed you to see him so unbothered at all times, apart from when he was arguing with you. The perks of having a famous mother, you suppose. 

Scaramouche catches you staring and turns, raising his brow at you in question. He stuck his tongue out at you, but any intimidation factor this may have had (read: none) was instantly reduced by him coughing after chugging down too much wine. You avert your eyes, embarrassed at being caught. But before you could stress on the interaction for too long you hear the host’s voice ring out the words you’ve been waiting for all night.

“And now, for our final and most anticipated award of the night,” Yae Miko starts, waving around an envelope, “The Top Artist group award. This was between the two groups Windblume and Delusion. Without further ado, this award is going to…”

The stadium falls silent and you find yourself holding someone’s clammy hands under the table as you and your members hold your breath.

“...a tie! Windblume and Delusion, all of you get up here! In all our years there’s never been an exact tie!”

The fans erupted into confused cheers and applause as you staggered to get out of your seat, tripping over yourself as you did so. You blindly followed behind Lumine as you made your way to the stage. A tie? You didn’t work your ass off all year for a measly tie. You almost wanted to shout for a recount. 

Your head started to replay all of the petty interactions and subtle insults Scaramouche had thrown your way from your trainee days till today. Every glare, every smirk, and ever time he one-upped you, it all repeated in your mind like torture. Untalented. Annoying. Ugly. All it did was only fuel your anger even more and blind your senses. Hell, your group deserved that award! You deserved it more than him! 

“At the moment we only had one trophy made since we didn’t expect this outcome, so for now you guys will have to share it,” Yae Miko laughs, gesturing to the trophy on the pedestal. 

Since you both were the closest, you and Scaramouche instinctively reach for it. Both of your hands bumped into each other, inducing a glare from you both. You both clench the trophy in your hands, standing almost chest to chest with one another on the stage. 

“Just let go,” Scaramouche whispers, glaring down at you, “Give up.”

At that moment it was only you and Scara. The lights around you faded as all you could focus on was the way his tone was clipped and the way his eyes never spared yours a glance. It was all too familiar and only fueled your feelings. Suddenly you forgot about the thousands of people watching you as insults started to pour out of your mouth.

"You only made it this far because you're a nepo baby," you hissed through gritted teeth.

Scara looked startled at that, his grip loosening before he clenched the trophy once again.

"Maybe if you didn't hog all the lines in your group, you guys would've actually won outright," Scaramouche shot back, tightening his hold on the trophy.

"You can't dance," you snapped, tugging the trophy towards you.

"You can't sing," he retorted, pulling back.

"At least I don't need autotune," you huffed.

"At least I don't need backup dancers to distract from my lack of talent," he shot back, eyes narrowing.

The bickering intensified, your voices rising over the fading applause as your mics amplified your conversation to everyone in the stands.

"You think you're so special just because of your connections. Sorry to break it to you but talent actually matters," you said, trying to yank the trophy from his grasp. 

"I doubt you know anything about talent. And you think you're the heart of Windblume? You're just the loudest. That's not the same as being the best," he countered, pulling the trophy back.

You were about ready to slap the stupid smile off his pretty face when you felt a pair of arms around your waist tug you back.

“Come on, Y/n. Save this for later,” Yoimiya urged, her eyes pleading as she eyed the audience. They were all stunned into silence at the events unfolding in front of them.

“Easy now, Scara,” Childe says, grabbing his shoulder and holding him still. 

You and Scaramouche share another glare as you both reluctantly let go of the trophy and let it fall back onto the pedestal. Lumine and Aether quickly usher you guys off backstage as Yae attempts to regain control of the situation. 

“Well, that was rather intense! Let’s hear it one last time for Windblume and Delusion!”

stuck with you!

masterlist — prev | next

comment on the masterlist and lmk if i can make u a fan in the au!!

synopsis — after the disaster that was the live award show, where you and scaramouche got into an argument on stage after both of your groups got a tie for top artists, your guys' PR teams have been in shambles trying to scrape up your mess. that's when the idea to send you both off with some other idols to a remote location for a survival dating show to mend your public image comes up. before you know it your bags are packed and you’re on a plane to a remote island. the only obligation is you need to end up with scaramouche at the end of the show, whether you end up liking him or not doesn’t matter to your managers as long as the show’s ratings stay high. whatever you do in between to get there is up to you!

notes — the girls are fightinggg also pls lmk if ur enjoying i need motivation xx

taglist — @na1lea @cindywasneverhere @lunavixia @aestherin @mlaakai @camvrin @retiredmommylover @iheartpieck @jangyung @cartierfiles @loveariel @silly-ez @mochipls @pomeiu @chuuismylife @flowerypesky @creammpuff @justanothertiredreader @boxdisappeared @kissmiere @kissingkzuha @webbywill @kazusboyfriend @s3xpistolss @pjsucks @bunns-wonderland @lordbugs @localgirlywithnolife @kosumos @danfelions @featuredtofu @pinxeajin @herebyaccident0 @haeunoo @scaradooche @pglt19 @chemiru @childesbabygirl @simonisferal @shutingstar @vxcmx @domimiki @ttalgi @esuz @tokkishouse @kitsuvil @scarasmood @ihearttori @nomurahayami @starringyau @androxphobic

#scaramouche smau #scaramouche x reader smau #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x yn #scaramouche x you #scaramouche x gender neutral reader #stuck with you smau

[basilf1res]

Tim Drake, looking at (read: stalking) a couple being cute and hugging and holding hands on a bench in the gloomy Gotham winter: *sighs* damn why can’t I have that.

Tucker Foley, glancing over at his two best friends being all cute in the park across the street from Starbucks (where he’s drinking coffee): *mumbles* damn, I want that too.

Tim and Tucker, now looking at each other: Coffee date?

Tim and Tucker, both nod: Coffee date.

——————————

Dick, in a car: You met this man… where exactly..?

Tim: Coffee.

Dick: *long pause* what?

Tim: Starbucks. Get out of the car I’m going on a coffee date. (Said with same energy as: “Get in loser we’re going shopping”)

——————————

Tucker, sipping a mocha latte with (what should be) an illegal amount of shots: So… ya like jazz..?

Tim, inhaling his third cup of black coffee: Hired.

Tucker, grinning far to wide and pumping his fist like the sleep deprived college students he is: Score.

——————————

Stephanie, spins around in the chair in front of the batcomputer (a photo of Tucker on it) supervillain style: Sooooo~ I heard from the grapevine that you’ve landed yourself a date.

Stephanie, pausing to look towards Cass: Was that too straightforward? Should I make it sound more dramatic?

Cass: *shrugging*

Stephanie, turns back around: Hmm, let’s see…

Tim, entering the cave with a cheap cup of coffee from Starbucks: Oh hey, came down to borrow the computer for a bi-

Stephanie, spins towards Tim while in the chair: *fake crying* You left me for this man??

Cass: *facepalms*

Tim: *chokes on coffee*

——————————

Danny, side hugging Sam while walking down the street towards a public ice rink: Wheeeere’s Tucker..?

Sam: He was going to get some breakfast? I think??

Danny: So that’s definitely not Tim Drake and that’s definitely not Tucker Foley all bundled up in winter gear holding hands while both fail at ice skating and holding up several cups of coffee.

Sam, deadpanning: Why am I even surprised.

——————————

Tucker, nearly falling on the ice again: We’re being watched.

Tim, holding him up: Ignore my siblings, they’re just jealous they don’t have a coffee buddy.

Tucker: Why did we make this coffee cup balancing bet-?

Tim, exasperated: We?? That was all you!

Tucker, glaring while tripping Tim, making him nearly face-plant: Nuh uh! Lies and slander!

Tim and Tucker landing in the most cliché way possible in those cringy Christmas romance movies:

Tim:

Tucker:

Tim: Your fault.

Tucker with a Cheshire Cat grin: Well duh, that was my intention.

Tim: Fuck you.

Tucker: You know you want to~~

Tim: Woah-! Take me on a coffee date first!

Tucker, trying not to laugh: Wanna go see a movie?

Tim, also trying not to laugh as he gets off of Tucker and helps him up: *embarrassed stammering* S-sure.

Tim and Tucker both snickering at the pure explosion of chaos they’ve caused while (probably) semi-high on caffeine: We are so dead in a few hours.

Oops. This was longer than I thought.

#dp x dc #dc x dp #dpxdc #dp #dcxdp #danny phantom #dc #tim drake x tucker foley #tim drake #tucker foley #what have i gotten myself into #memes

[jazeswhbhaven]

First of all, hi 💕, i just wanted to say that your headcanons are amazing and that i love it here. And if ist ok and you are acepting anons, can i be dumbass anon? Also x2, i let my imagination run free, and i thought of something, what kind of dates do think the kings, nobels and/ or angels would have with you? I thouht of these: Motorbike ride with Satan, spa date with Paimon, picnic by the lake with Mammon, walk in the forest with Andrealphus, bar and restaurant hopping with Beel, after lots of begging flying with Michael, beach date with Gamigin. Bonus for babyboy: movie and sleepover with Minhyeok. Sorry, i kind of in a fluffy mood (one of the 4 moods i have apart from: sad bitch, horny and caotic dumbass)

This has been sitting for a while dumbass anon, please forgive <3 BUT because it's been a minute, this is going to be one big fluffy sfw post for all devils/angels!! (though I will leave out the cherubim because I know mehhh very little of them?)

🖤Dates with your Faves, WHB Edition 🖤

Satan: An ideal date with this king is one of the most thrilling. You can count on traveling the country on his motorbike, trying out the local cuisine and bars, and maybe getting into a little trouble like sneaking into a movie you didn't pay for (as if anyone cares but...) or purposely antagonizing one of the other kings with a prank call. But he ends the day with visiting an abandoned ruin or building where you can watch the sunset together.

Stiri: Tea, tea, tea! There's a place in Gehenna that's similar to wine tasting except it's tea tasting. After selecting a loose leaf to take home, he takes you to a thriller suspense movie, it gets your heart going and that way he can hold your hand during (as if he needed a reason)

Paimon: Shopping malls stand no chance. You're both coming out with new outfits, sticker books from a niche department store, and perfume. Next is a spa day at the palace where neither of you is bothered, and you can relax all day.

Leraye: Trying to impress you he takes you on a nature hike! Even though he's a bit winded from the hills, the scenery is amazing. Bonus if there's thunder and rainy weather during your hike, the two of you bundled under an umbrella as he tries his best to hold back the horny and enjoy your company. Anything is worth it when it's with you. Astaroth: A quiet evening of listening to audiobooks and drinking fine wine (or sparkling red grape juice if you don't like alcohol) is perfect for this devil. He may try to slip an erotica in there, but it's just to tempt you.

Belial: He left Jiyu behind with Ppyong so he could go on your date. And just so happens there's a concert going on nearby. He loves the music, and he loves your energy after you both go to his favorite restaurant so he can recommend dishes for you, silently yes, but it's still just as fun as he loves hearing you speak, bonus points if you sing for him.

Zagan: A yoga session (don't worry he'll help you!), and tailisman writing course along with a paint and sip event. He's just happy to spend time with you any way he can, and you've gotten much better at reading his expressions!

Ppyong: Awh, let's not forget our fave little red lump! A day trip to the human world so he can eat all of his fave junk food and dishes is sure to make him happy. But he also wouldn't mind if you made some of his fave dishes in Gehenna from scratch.

Mammon: A date with this king is so over the top that you feel bad for even showing up without a fancy outfit. However, this time he opts for a quiet dinner at the palace, meaning the best cooks providing a feast, a massage for two, and cuddling in each other's arms on his balcony as you watch the golden rivers shimmer against the sunset.

Bimet: Better have some cash handy so you'll be ready to buy whatever it is he finds during your date that he wants. But also expect to be spoiled for once. For his favorite person he goes all out, he may cheap out on a couple things, but it's for a purpose. After window shopping, he takes you a place that fully customizes anything you desire and he pays for it.

Valefor: Oh he's a gentleman through and through. He's been saving up for your date to make sure it goes well, but you help by suggesting things that require more of his attention and time than money. He appreciates it and loves you more for it, a quick stroll around town, eating ice cream, and well it's his cheat day so he's chowing down on carbs!! Pizza and a movie with him is the best. Eligos: The only thing you'd need to do for his date is show up, look cute (not cuter than him) and pet his head the entire time you're walking around looking at items at the outdoor mall. He eats a lot so be prepared to stop at every little restaurant or cafe to grab a snack or an entire meal. He wants you to feed it to him.

Beelzebub: Oh, he actually remembered your date? Nope, there was no specific time, he literally showed up, took you, and went around Avisos showing you the different places you can hang out at (sounds familiar yeah?) only this time no funny stuff, he just wants to spend time with you and is very clingy the entire time. It's a foodie date again too, except a little easier on your stomach than last time. And he wants to take you to the store that sells a weird variety of candy aphrodisiacs.

Bael: He's so stressed out he almost forgot to take time off for your date. The two of you stay at the palace and enjoy each other's company by having good food, and massaging each other, and there's an indoor hot spring! He needed this and may fall asleep on you during the date but it's cute. Let him sleep.

Amon: He's never been on a date before, so he's quite clueless about what you'd want to do. But he likes seeing you blush each time he does something cute or flirty, so he keeps that up. A beach date is perfect, he can't wait to see you in your swimsuit. Embarrassed? Even better.

Stolas: He's annoyed that you suggest going out for the date, mostly because he doesn't want to deal with any random bs in the heart of Avisos. But after some convincing you both visit that maid cafe together and feed each other desserts. You'll have to split the bill though.

Naberius: It's so cliche but a zoo or an aquarium is a good date for him. Or...a science/art museum! But there's nothing "normal" about these places in Avisos, so get ready to see strange creatures, some that may have escaped from their enclosures...but he's got you. Oh and that new Italian restaurant that opened up? Check your meal for hair...

Leviathan: A date? With you? As if...(goes anyway because you asked him out and he doesn't want anyone else to go with you) It's somewhere quiet, serves nice pastries, and good drinks/tea. A boba shop, connected to an area for quiet sitting and reading. He orders for you, and gets upset and hangs the cashier if the order isn't right. But it's okay, no worries, you distract him anyway with jumping right into conversations about your hobbies. He seems to not care but he does, because he gets mad if you stop talking and ask about him lol

now let's say in a perfect world Levi even allows his nobles to go on a date with you...

Foras: A magic show. Yes. I know it's corny and he can spot every trick, but he finds it fascinating that someone here in Hades even bothered to entertain in such a way. Also, time spent with you? You want to spend time with him? He's glued to you the entire time.

Barbatos: Oh he's the biggest hopeless romantic. A stroll in his personal rose garden, nude...and has been growing a specific breed of rose just for you. Sunbathing and plenty of rose-centered dishes. He's just trying to impress you as much as possible.

Glasyalabolas: A date? Well, this was hard to get out of him because he declined, finding the thought of it pretty unsightly. But, you mention there's a film showing that the patrons are at risk of dying if they watch it, and now he's interested. Movie date it is- (and surprise no one dies and Glas already knew that you were lying once you got to the theatre, he just had a hard way of expressing wanting to spend time with you)

Orias for the heck of it: He knows that going on a date with you would annoy Levi, so he makes it very obvious that you two are going on one. He's dressed up, best makeup, best shoes, and outfit, he knows Levi spies on you so he makes it to where each time he kisses your cheek he brags about how soft your skin is. After all that tormenting and Levi not reacting, he gets bored and cuts the date short. He has better things to do. (brat)

Lucifer: He does not require much for a date. He's just happy to have you around. This consists of no Gamigin or Jjok, nor his nobles because this is just a date (though they are closeby) tea in his garden, sitting in silence, he may ask to hold your hand or heck have you sit in his lap. Just peace and quiet...for once.

Gamigin: He's so energetic! Something that exerts alot of energy is key, so a hike, dancing, amusement park, nature park, anything stimulating. Plus if you get hurt during he can instatly heal you with his staff! Expect blushing, hand holding, and nose kisses.

Morax: Awh, poor baby is worried about you the entire date. "Do your feet hurt? I can carry you" "Oh that dish is too hot let me check" "I think this may have an ingredient that's deadly, I'll taste." He's also just so courteous and chivalrous it's too sweet. You two are probably eating a nice dinner, or enjoying the library or art museum.

Buer: He's originally from Tartaros so he's got the cash saved up to pay for a nice date anywhere in Hell. In fact, that's where you end up going! He's treating you to a lavish dinner, and a quiet evening at the palace resort (yes there's a resort attached) He makes tea for you himself during your downtime at the resort.

Marbas: Goodness, his idea of a date is trying to figure out what it is that you even like to do. Expect him to stare at you a lot, make awkward comments, and thank goodness he took off his restraints during the date, but you do have to remind him to keep pulling up his pants.

Belphegor: Well, let's just say that your date with him would be...him staring at you intently. Asking why you're in Hell, and then nodding off if you start rambling too much. This has now become a nap date. Get those pillows ready! (I wish his info was out already so I could do this better lol)

Adrealphus: A date? He's so surprised and more than happy to go on one with you. You link arms, visit an area that doesn't require being around too many people, and describe the landscapes to him. Add on a shoulder massage and peppered kisses on the nape of his neck and it's a perfect end to the date! He loves the stimulation.

Bathin: The best date for this quiet devil is a bookstore/coffee/museum. He may or may not hold your hand during depending on his mood, but he does request to stop by Avisos so he can see his friend Stolas. While in Avisos there's a pit stop at a cafe during the daytime the only time it's not surrounded in chaos.

Guison: Oh boy, get ready to stay in for the night. Your best bet with a date with this man is solving problems and doing a quiz night with various snacks and drinks. It's mundane but he loves it, bonus points if you have any strategy board games to play.

(a little spicy tho due to the nature of this country) Asmodeus: Pure speculation here, but your date is pretty wild. It started with a nice stroll in the park and ended with your shirt going missing and the last five hours a blur as you're in his arms waking up in a random bed. Hey from the hickie you have on your neck, I assume it went well.

Phenix: Oh honey, you two didn't even make it out of the door before he was rolling around and orgasming over your outfit. It wasn't even revealing it just looks so good on you. Yup gotta take it off now, he's feinin' for you.

Dantalian: Well, he's just a simple devil with simple needs, whisking you up the heaven to see how long it takes before someone notices you two are up there and now someone has to come get you two. It was a nice thrilling date though, cause he made out with you in front of everyone.

Ronove: The two of you stay at his place and he shows you his collections of...things if you don't mind. He wants to paint your nails, and his takes off his mask for you as long as you promise not to take a photo or tell anyone. Long convos about little to nothing to...oh wait yup those are his fingers...in your [redacted] this date has escalated.

Michael: Well, you know one thing is for certain, and that's he's not having the date happen in heaven and only because everyone annoys him. So you offer to go to a place of his choosing. He doesn't eat much, so the two of you are just traveling place to place, hearing him vent, and if you're lucky he may want to hold your hand or you may see him smile.

Gabriel: You're going to laugh but his ideal date is church, bible study, a retreat, or a mission trip. Anything that involves serving God and showing your love for him to do his work is a great time for Gabriel. Not religious? Don't worry, you can pray together in his room. That counts as a date. Eventually, you'll see the light.

Raphael: Oh he's dragging you wherever he wants for a date. He wants to get out of heaven and away from his brothers so much that he's practically begging you. A BBQ place to eat will suffice followed by possibly punishing some sinners but maybe that can hold off for a moment. He's holding your hand during. You aren't going too far either....he'd even follow you to the bathroom.

BONUS, date with-

Minhyeok

Finally, he's been waiting for the moment to ask you out and have a good time together. Now that you're back from Hell, for the time being, he's got an entire day planned out. Takes you to your favorite restaurant, you catch a movie together, go shopping and buy matching keychains or anything, even phone charms. And finally, today is a special day, he hired someone to fire off fireworks to ask you to officially be his partner. How could you say no? (well...you may have to if you're still attached to your devil(s) maybe he's just doomed to wait for you forever?)

#jwhbrequests📬 #whb #jwhbasks❓ #what in hell is bad #whb headcanons #whb everyone lol #whb kings #whb nobles #whb angels #whb minhyeok

[evildeadism]

deadite 101

ash williams x f!reader

word count: 4.4k plot: reader is home alone whilst ash is at work, the night takes a turn when she is attacked by a deadite. ash comes home and fears the worst. (intended to be post aod ash but can be imagined as any era tbh!) warnings: canon typical violence and gore, descriptions of injury, hurt/comfort, angst, mentions of nsfw and nsfw jokes, fluff, soft! ash, mentions of getting high, use of petnames (its ash, what do you expect)

a/n: ash williams is my fave fictional character ever yall, like the love i have for that man is insane...anyways! hope the like 10 evil dead enjoyers on this app like this!!!

You had said goodbye to Ash in the late hours of the afternoon just before he had left for his evening shift at S-Mart. It was just like every other day, the two of you had fallen into a comfortable routine after moving in together.

Ash would work shifts at S-Mart, you would also work and the moments spent together were nothing short of bliss. Getting high at night together whilst spinning a record and the weekend lay-ins after spending the morning fucking each other was also rather heavenly. Date nights were a movie, or maybe a trip to the bar and it would normally end up with the two of you hot and heavy in the back of the delta, which would often continue in your shared bedroom at the apartment.

It may not have been a lot for some people, but for you and Ash? It was perfect. You were happy, he was happy. It was heavenly. Except, of course, for that night.

The apartment building was illuminated by dim lights as you read quietly, the wind howling outside, a few raindrops hitting the window every now and then. Quickly you threw a glance at the clock on the wall. It was 10pm, Ash would be back at any moment.

Settling your eyes back to the book, you nestled into the warm blanket that had bundled you up on the sofa, a small sigh of content slipped past your lips as you slowly sipped on the wine you had in your hand. It was the kind of cozy October nights you’d see in the movies and you couldn’t wait for Ash to get home to share the tranquil scene with him.

The sound of the door opening echoed through the apartment.

“Ash, I’m in here!” You called out without looking up, turning the page of your book.

Silence. 

That was strange. He can usually never shut up when he first comes home from work, or ever for that matter.

“Ash?” You called out again.

Still no answer. 

You were quiet for a moment, listening for any sign of Ash or any kind of movement. But there was nothing, the apartment was still. Eerily still.

Your eyebrows furrowed, slowly placing the book down on the coffee table beside you. An unsettling feeling pooled into your stomach. Pulling off the blanket covers, wine glass still in hand, you peered down the hallway directly at the front door. It was wide open. The light in the hallway outside of your apartment flickered erratically, but there was no one in the doorway.

Your mouth dried as you licked your lips. “Ash, I swear to god if this is some kind of joke, I will kill you” You called out again. 

Silence.

Growing tired of this ridiculousness you marched to the door and slammed it shut. There was still no Ash to be seen anywhere. 

“Fuck” You whispered, facing the door. The gravity of the situation hitting you all at once. Ash always begged you, practically drilled it into you to keep the door and windows locked at all times after what had happened to him at the cabin. And so you did, but you weren’t quite as careful as he was.

You hadn’t experienced what he had, didn’t have the upper hand of witnessing just how fucked up the dead could be. And of course you believed what he said had happened to him was the actual truth, his recurring nightmares, lack of a right hand and the look in his eyes as he very rarely recalled it was anything but fake.

But that was his experience not yours. 

You reassured him time and time again that you were safe and always locked the doors but as time went on you had gotten sloppier, doubting the danger your boyfriend warned you of. Like tonight.

You had forgotten to lock the door after he left. And now there was someone in your house. You doubted that the villains Ash faced in that cabin those years ago were in your home but regardless, someone or something was.

The floorboards behind you squeaked ever so slightly, pulling you back to the present. At the sound your tear pricked eyes widened in horror as your breath became heavier and heavier by the second. Despite your brain screaming at you not to, slowly, oh so slowly you turned around.

A million things rushed through your mind, a murderer, thief and somewhere desperately in your mind you had hoped this was Ash pulling a stupid prank on you. But what you came face to face with was more horrifying than anything even the twisted of minds could’ve comprehended.

The person. No. Creature, in front of you looked like nothing short of a nightmare. Clothes ripped up and covered in dirt and blood, skin a pale and sickly gray peeling off and decaying in spots of blood and body matter, and the eyes? Oh the eyes, a terrifying striking white that pierced straight into you, through you. The wine glass you were holding fell through your now clammy and shaky hands, shattering into tiny pieces on the floor with a loud smash.

The, what once was a man, grinned slowly, baring its rotten and blood stained teeth. You tried to step back but your back met the door with a dull thud. A slight whimper escaped as you realized there was no clear way of escaping, not without a fight. 

“No, Ashy slashy here to protect you” It spoke in a horrifyingly deep and monstrous tone, tilting its head at you, that terrifying grin still sporting its face. 

Upon his words, your instincts finally kicked in, coming out of the paralysis that had held you still for so long and you instantly bolted to the left and into the kitchen, eyes immediately settling on the knife holder.

Always find a weapon first Ash had said to you once before, while giving you a cautionary 101 on killing a deadite This thing is not human, it is hardly gonna go down with just a kick in the nuts. You stretched your arm out leaping for the biggest butcher knife, fingers merely brushing the handle but the deadite was fast, too fast. A hand snaked around your calf and yanked you down with strength, your body slamming into the floor bringing the knives down with you, a large clatter to the floor. Without looking back you tried to reach for the knife closest to you on the ground but your leg was yanked harder, pulling you away from your only source of a weapon “No!” You cried out in fear. 

Another hand sneaked around your other calf and the thing started to pull harder, pulling your body towards him. You screamed in terror. Panic swarming your brain, vision going foggy.

Was this it? You thought to yourself. A death so quick and so painful. Leaving your corpse here for Ash to find, another loss left for him to mourn as if his sister, ex-girlfriend and friends weren’t enough. Now at some point, you’re probably gonna go into panic mode, you won’t be able to see, hear or even think about anything except for the inevitable gruesome death that awaits you. Well, good news! Death is only inevitable if you let it be inevitable. Are you gonna go out without a fight? No! Well, maybe if you’re a pussy but if you’re anything like me, you’ll clear your head and there’ll only be one thing on your mind. Survival. 

With a grunt and new found resolve you started to squirm out of its grasp fighting against its hold on you, arms reaching for the butcher knife. The deadite struggled against you as you heaved and writhed, slowly and slowly inching closer to your prize. Suddenly the deadite let go of your legs, without looking back or checking to see what it was doing you surged toward the knife until you felt something heavy on your back. With horror you realized, the deadite was crawling on top of you. 

Paralyzed by fear, you stopped struggling and involuntarily started to hold your breath. Everything was a painful quiet except for the deadites' ragged breathing coming closer and closer. Does it even breathe? You thought to yourself but the thought quickly died as you felt its torso press into your back, its face slowly entering your peripheral vision, mere inches away from your face, so much so you could smell the dank repugnant smell of death and rotting rolling off of the corpse. 

Slowly, as if not to disturb the deadite, you wiggled your fingers in search of the knife. Finally you brushed the handle and let out a breath of relief and victory but just as your hand gripped it, a much larger hand came down on your wrist and snapped it in the opposite direction. An ear piercing scream tore through you as waves of shock ebbed through your wrist, the deadites firm grasp still on your now limp hand as it laughed wickedly in your ear.

You shut your eyes in fear and whimpered quietly, tears rolling down your face. The deadite will corner you into a difficult position, but you can use this to your advantage, there is always a way out and if the deadite thinks it has you, its guard will be low. Now is the time to lay a blow to the sucker.

“Don’t cry, we’re just getting started'' It growled in your ear in that gravelly monstrous voice, followed by a low chuckle that sounded like the hordes of hell opening up. Gritting your teeth you prepared yourself for your attack, a guttural roar escaping you as you quickly lifted yourself up, using your working wrist and the limited body strength you had left and smacked your head into its chin. 

It let go of its grasp on you and instantly your working hand grabbed the knife, you leapt to your feet, turning around to face the deadite that was staring you down, teeth bared angrily. It was pissed. But so were you.

There's only so much cat and mouse you can take before the anger starts, and that is when you know you have a fighting chance. “Let’s go, fucker” You spat at it, the monster grinned, evidently entertained by your new found courage. With an angry scream you charged at the deadite with the knife in hand. Instantly it caught you by the throat and started to squeeze, your eyes bulged out of your head in shock, desperate for breath and head turning lighter and lighter by the second.

Your vision was starting to dip and your body started to feel like it was melting away before in the corner of your eye you saw the glimmer of the knife. You looked back at the deadite with wild eyes and rammed the knife through the wrist that was held up to your throat. It screeched in response and finally dropped your neck, stumbling back. 

Taking deep panicky gulps of breath, grateful to drink in the air you looked up cautiously at the deadite. Your hand ghosted over the throbbing on your neck, it was bound to be bruised soon. The deadite still had the knife embedded in its arm as it peered at you and a chill ran down your spine. In doubt, run.

You broke out into a sprint, eyes locking on the door but the deadite caught up, grabbing you forcefully by the hair and pulling you back, making you shriek in agony. It grabbed your waist and with a mighty strength, threw you down onto the shards of the broken wine glass scattered by the door. Glass shards pierced into your hands and arms catching your already injured wrist, scratching your cheek leaving a trail of crimson blood dripping down your face. 

Groaning in pain you slowly shifted your body to turn around, the deadite loomed above you pulling the knife out of its arm with a sickly squelch and throwing it to the side with a heavy clang. Hand feeling around the sharp glass, body tired and in an excruciating pain you looked up with weary eyes. The deadite lunged forward.

Remember, ANYTHING can be a weapon. In one swift movement you grabbed a large shard of glass and rammed it into its neck. You grabbed another shard of glass and plunged it into its right eye. With a high pitched scream it backed away slowly, howling in pain.

Weakly, you stood up with a wince. Stumbling towards the countertop you grabbed a heavy wooden chopping board and stalked towards the deadite and with a battle cry, in one fellow swoop, knocked its head so hard, you were almost positive its head would roll off. The crack of its neck reverberated in the apartment and with a thud, its body fell to the floor motionless.

You stared down at the seemingly dead corpse, panting heavily. This one is important, trust me, the dead can play dead pretty well. You have to completely destroy the corpse, to pieces. You smashed the cutting board into the deadite again, and again, until if it wasn't for the slight remnant of a face, it didn’t even look like a body anymore. 

Finally happy with your work you dropped the board onto the floor with a thick bang. You walked backwards and cradled your aching wrist, weary wide eyes never leaving the monster in front of you. And that, baby, is how you kill a deadite. 

                   __________________________________________

Even before Ash had entered the apartment he knew something was up, he always knew when it came to the deadites, of course that didn’t mean he had quite expected the scene that layed in front of him.

His eyes widened in horror as he saw the deadite corpse lying in the hallway. He instantly rushed in, but the sound of something crunching under his shoes drew him to a halt. Confused, he looked down to find shards of glass covered in blood. Dropping his stuff right there and then he looked around the apartment frantically calling out your name. Stepping carefully around the deadite and inspecting the mush that was once a body, “Definitely dead” Ash murmured, his eyes fell on the discarded knife just a few feet away from the corpse, he swiftly picked it up, just in case. Ash called out your name again.

“Ash?” A voice quietly responded.

Ash whipped around, to find you huddled in the corner. Resisting the urge to rush over to you immediately, Ash slowly crept towards the corner you had hidden yourself in, he knew all too well that if that deadite was truly dead then there was a chance the kandarian demon had now possessed you. Despite his mind screaming to make sure you were okay, first, he had to make sure you were really, well, you.

He couldn’t quite see your face due to the dim lighting of the apartment, and the corner you had crept into was particularly dark. He very quietly said your name, slowly advancing. Finally you looked up. Your face, though streaked with blood and tears, was yours. Ash let out a breath of relief, quickly dropping the knife and instantly running to your side. Slowly he sank to your height

You looked up at him with wide eyes, full of relief. “Ash, thank god” You breathed. His eyes frantically scanned you looking for any injuries, they widened when finding your bent wrist, carefully he took hold of it and moved it towards him. You whimpered in pain. “Shh, shh, it’s okay” He said. “You’re safe”

Continuing his scan he found numerous cuts along your arms, some even with shards of glass nestled deeply into the wound. “You need to go to the hospital, baby”

“Ash,” You hoarsely whispered.

“Can you get up?” 

“Ash-”

“These could get infected, we should go now”

“Ash!” You sharply called, finally gaining his attention. Ash looked up at you, eyes falling on your face, his gaze softened. 

“Fuck,” He sighed, eyes tracing the cut on your face, his non-metal hand softly came up to your cheek, you nestled into his hand beyond relieved to feel his touch, to finally feel safe.

You swallowed dryly, casting your gaze behind your lover, and onto the dishevelled corpse “Is it…gone?” 

Ash gently pulled your cheek back to face him, looking away from the deadite. “Yeah, It’s gone” 

He sighed heavily, casting another glance behind him at the corpse. “How did it get in here?” He frantically asked. "I mean the door is always locked” Ash shook his head in confusion, turning back to you.

You looked down guiltily and gulped slowly. Fuck your throat still hurt from the deathgrip the deadite had on your neck. 

Ash’s eyes narrowed at you. “The door was locked, right?” 

You remained quiet, still refusing to meet his eyes. He said your name slowly, “Tell me you locked the door."

You bit your lip. “Ash, liste-”

He scoffed in disbelief, cutting you off, hand pulling away from your cheek. “You’ve gotta be shitting me”

“I’m sorry,” you muttered, still refusing to meet his eyes, instantly missing his touch on your skin.

“Why do you think I always say that crap? For fun?” He angrily asked, hand rubbing his eyes in frustration. “I say it so shit like this doesn’t happen!” 

His voice grew louder and you flinched instinctively. Ash bit his tongue and shook his head regretfully. Both his hands took yours, carefully and gently held your broken wrist. “I’m sorry, I just-”

“I know, it's okay, I’m just jumpy” You said, cutting him off. “Every time I close my eyes or hear a slight noise I just think that thing is gonna come back and finish the job” 

“It’s not gonna come back” He reassured you confidently.

You gave him a faint and tired smile while nodding. “You’re right anyways, I should’ve locked the door I just never y’know expected...” Your sentence died on your tongue you couldn’t even will the words out. 

“I know” He responded, giving you that knowing look because of course he knew what it felt like. You looked into those brown doe eyes you had grown to love and find comfort in and felt your lip wobble ever so slightly, tears pricking at your eyes, you cast your gaze back down, not wanting to break and burst into tears.

But the tears were strong and a quiet sob escaped you.

“Hey, come on look at me” Ash said head bobbing to try and catch your eyes. You timidly looked up, and Ash swiped a tear away with his thumb. “Are you okay?”

You lifted an eyebrow at his words. “Yeah” He chuckled. “It’s a stupid question, I know” He threw his gaze behind him to the still deadite. 

A faint smile played on his lip as he looked back at you. “You beat the crap out of it though” 

You smiled back, sniffing ever so slightly. “Had a good teacher, I remembered all those tips” 

“Damn right you did, What did you beat it with anyways?”

“A chopping board” You responded

He let out another amused chuckle. “That ought to do it”

“Well, I seem to remember someone telling me anything is a weapon”

Ash nodded proudly, “Atta girl”

You blushed softly at the endearment. Ash gave you a knowing smile, thumb slowly drawing circles on your skin. “It did, however, beat the crap out of you and there's no shame in that, I mean hey, I lost my hand to those bastards. But we need to go to the hospital”

You nodded. “I know can we, please, just sit a little, I just need a second”

He nodded timidly as the two of you sat, hands intertwined. “Hey, on the bright side I don’t seem so batshit crazy now do I?” Ash shrugged in a joking tone.

You let out a small laugh. “Ash, I’ll always think your crazy”

Ash smiled in response and the apartment fell silent again, another chill drawing down your spine. The stillness of the apartment was unsettling after the attack and you felt your heartbeat start to speed up, you needed to distract yourself before you had a full blown panic attack. You cleared your throat ever so slightly, “So, those things, that’s what you fought off back in the cabin?” 

“Yeah,” Ash’s smile faltered ever so slightly.

You considered him for a moment and shook your head. “Just one of those fuckers nearly finished me off and yet you fought god knows how many and survived” 

“Well, I don’t mean to brag but I am the king, sugar” Ash responded, a smug smirk appearing on his face.

You rolled your eyes playfully at him. You always knew Ash was strong, I mean physically of course he was built particularly well and from what he had told you he was a fucking god when it came to combat. But this put it in proportion, to have survived that many of those things takes something truly incredible in a person. 

People would probably describe Ash as lucky for what he survived and he would most likely grunt in response and say some crap like, “Lucky? That’s one way of putting it”. Because it wasn’t luck to have lost his sister, his girlfriend and his friends all in one night. To have to live with the memory of their gruesome deaths, no, there was nothing lucky about that. Ash would never admit it because it made him feel weak but at the end of the day he was a victim and a survivor, and if survivors guilt was personified it would be personified in Ashley fucking Williams. 

You peered at him slowly. “Ash?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m so sorry that happened to you, I mean, I know I’ve said it before but now that I..” Your sentence trailed off your mind still unable to process what had just happened. “You have no idea how glad and lucky I am to have met you, let alone be with you” You spoke quietly. “How glad I am that you lived, and that you’re here, with me”

Ash was never very good at being in touch with his emotions and you knew that but that didn’t mean he was immune to them, and you hadn’t noticed the slight shimmer in his eyes and the gulp of breath he took in. He blinked slowly for a while, and for one of the first times in his life he was speechless, you had hit something buried in the deep crevices of his mind and my god, did it feel strangely good. Quickly trying to recover himself he plastered on that obnoxious smirk that didn’t quite erase the gentle look in his eyes. “Hey, me too babe” 

Awkwardly coughing, Ash’s eyes flickered down to your neck and his smirk dropped, jaw flexing and eyes widening again “Hey, what the fuck happened to your neck?”

Your hand flew out of his and instinctively brushed the stinging skin, you winced in pain.

“No, no” Ash pulled your hand away from your neck, taking soft grasp of it again, his eyes still focused on the blue-purple bruise forming across your neck. “Don’t touch it”

“Is it bad?” You asked, eyebrows furrowing in concern, panic rising.

Ash scoffed. “Uh, Yeah it’s bad, babe”. Noticing your worried face, he cleared his throat. “Nothing that won’t heal though, Uh don’t worry, just you know I wouldn’t recommend doing anything too strenuous with your throat”

You chuckled quietly. “Sorry, Ash, no blowjobs for a while”

Ash smiled at you but it didn’t quite meet his eyes. You cocked your head ever so slightly at him, a dirty joke that he didn't laugh at? Something was definitely up with him.

You watched him, the way his gaze lingered on your throat and wrist, the look in his eyes, it was the same look he had whenever he spoke about the cabin or his friends, his sister. You cleared your throat but the sensation made your already sore neck sting a little. “Ash, you know I’m gonna be okay, right?”

Ash lowered his head ever so slightly, ducking so he couldn’t meet your eyes. “I should have been here”

���Hey, come on that’s not fair to yourself”

He shook his head quietly.

“I mean I was the one who forgot to lock the door, you know, you were at work, as you should have been” You explained softly, his head remained hung.

“Ash, look at me” He reluctantly looked up, a tired look in his eyes. You tugged on his hand ever so slightly. “This is not the cabin, this is not your fault” 

He blinked quickly, that strange sensation from earlier coming back. Ash’s thumb swept over your hand again as the two of you peered at each other. You both sat in comfortable silence for a few moments before Ash finally stood up, offering you a hand. “Right, come on my little deadite slayer, you gotta go to the hospital”

You wanted to protest, not wanting to move at all but you knew he was right. Putting your non-injured hand in his he pulled you up, all the pain rushed through your body and you let out a cry. “Woah, come on, sugar, I got you” Ash reassured, an arm hooking around your waist so you could lean in to him as the two of you started to stumble to the door. 

Ash came to a halt just as the two of you reached the deadite corpse. You looked up at him quizzically and he looked back at you softly as he nervously licked his lips. “You know that I-” He cleared his throat. “That I, well-”

Ash always struggled to say I love you, but you knew.

“Yeah, I know” A big smile erupted on your face. “Me too”

Ash nervously let out a huff of air before planting a kiss on the top of your head, you smiled to yourself before the two of you continued towards the door, carefully stepping over the deadite mess.

“Y’know for future reference, the shotguns in the closet” He said.

“And you couldn't have told me that while you were giving me one of your ‘deadite 101’ lectures?”

“Now that would’ve made it to too easy for you”

You rolled your eyes playfully, as he opened the door and gently guided you through. The door shut, leaving the horror of the night behind. Ash pulled you back into him, leaning against his chest, the two of you stumbling down the hall.

“So,” You cleared your throat, “When do I get to use the chainsaw?”

“Oh you’re not ready for that yet, kid”

#ash williams #evil dead #evil dead 2 #army of darkness #ash williams x reader #slashers x reader #the evil dead #ashley williams #ash vs evil dead #horror #ash williams imagine #80s horror #horror movies #slasher x reader #slasher community

[ssinboo]

We're no Good Alone

summary: Seungkwan finds himself in a month long slump and you're recruited by his manager to help him get back on his feet.

He finds your presence a lot more comforting than he'd be willing to admit.

or

You visit Seungkwan in Seoul and spent the weekend like you don't hate each other.

Part 2 of As it Was

pairing: Middle School Teacher! Reader x Entertainer!Seungkwan

word count: 5.9k (24~ min read)

warnings: mentions of drug use and scandals, unprotected sex, making out, DIlf Mingyu (He's a warning in itself), angst

A/N: sorry for the delay! this has actually been finished for over a month I'm just a perpetual procrastinator OTL I'll be tagging everyone that asked for a sequel on this work, so let me know if you'd like to be tagged on the 3rd installment!

You didn’t visit Seoul as often as your teenage self dreamed of. It was hard enough having free time and the hours-long trip wasn’t something easy to squeeze in your schedule.

But when Seungkwan’s manager called, you found the time.

He’d gotten into a cannabis related scandal a month or so ago and the public didn’t take it well. Soon, he was replaced as the host of ‘Bad Clue’ by none other than his declared arch-nemesis, Kim Mingyu. And his health has been on the decline since.

You didn’t blame him, it was a lot to process. But it had been months and his manager was worried sick.

The concierge recognised you and let you go upstairs without a hitch, you already knew his passcode – His dog’s birthday, so getting into the expensive penthouse wasn’t an issue.

Immediately hit with the strong scent of booze and stale food, you gag, complaining loud and clear so he will hear your disgust.

Kicking your shoes and putting aside the grocery bags, you march down the hall toward his bedroom. His house is completely engulfed in darkness.

“Goddammit, Seungkwan, did you fucking die in here?” You hiss at the musty smell of a room that hasn’t seen Sunlight in weeks.

He’s bundled up in the bed, unruly hair peeking out from under the duvet.

“Kwannie,” You call out to no avail. With a sigh, you walk toward the bed, pulling at the covers to reveal the apathetic man.

He’s got deep-set eye bags that cling to his pretty eyes and an uneven stubble along his jaw. It’s unsightly in a way that tears apart at your heartstrings, watching this unbreakable image of Seungkwan’s self esteem slip away.

“Come on,” Your voice is a lot softer now as you lean forward, running your hands over his messy hair. “It’s 6 in the afternoon, have you eaten anything?”

He doesn’t reply, even as you sit down, hands running along his arms. Seungkwan’s eyes are unfocused, glazed over, staring away from you.

With a sigh, you lean forward, kissing his forehead.

“You look like shit,” You whisper, running your fingers through his tangled locks “I’m making a light soup that’s easy on the stomach, why don’t you go wash up, mhm?”

No answer.

Making your way to the kitchen, you make sure to pick up scattered clothing from the floor and toss it in the same corner so you can do the laundry later. As expected, the fridge holds nothing but canned beer and convenience store snacks.

It wasn’t the first slump Seungkwan ever had. When he first came to Seoul, there was a similar scenario, but this one seems to be worse. Given how he looks and how long it’s lasted, you can only imagine how fucked his head is right now.

The scandal had not only resulted in unending hatred from the media but the loss of his spot as the host of Bad Clue, a show he had written and planned.

The scent of fresh homemade food seems to wake up his stomach, and though he has no energy to get up and eat in the kitchen, your threats are quite energising.

You busy yourself with cleaning while he slumps over the countertop, sipping at the piping hot broth. When you shove everything into the washing machine and let it run, wiping your softener-covered hands over your jeans as you come back to the kitchen, you’re suddenly threatened with thoughts of domesticity.

It’s a brief, fleeting and imaginary scenario of calm mornings – You’d wake up to sunlit kisses, make breakfast before work and enjoy each other’s company without the looming pain of ‘no strings attached’.

But it’s gone as soon as it comes and you shake your head, making work of opening windows and pulling curtains away to let sunlight in.

When he’s done with the food, he sits there, eyes burning holes on the back of your head.

Though you feel his intense, questioning stare, you choose to ignore any thoughts he might have.

“Was it tasty?” You ask, scrubbing at the dishes.

Seungkwan shrugs, remembering you can’t see him from the sink so he just hums.

That’s enough for you.

“Why are you here?”

Here we go.

You stop scrubbing the porcelain bowl, “Because Sunggyu is worried sick about you.”

“I’m fine. Leave.”

With a sigh, you resume your activities. “Why don’t you go wash up?” You ask.

Seungkwan doesn’t move. “You cooked, I ate. Isn’t that enough?”

“I’ll leave after you’ve showered and shaved.”

It gets him moving and stomping toward the bathroom.

Once you’re done with the dishes, you set them aside and make your way to the bathroom. You knock and he doesn’t protest, so you come in.

He’s run himself a bath, steam engulfing the room with the scent of overpriced bath bombs and shower gel.

You’re happy he’s got enough energy to bathe.

After going through his cabinet and picking up the items you needed, you sit on the edge of his large tub, shaking the shaving foam can.

Seungkwan doesn’t fight you, even as you smear the foam over his upper lip and chin, which says something about his current mental state.

You pull the cap off the disposable razor and turn to face him.

“Stay still I don’t wanna hurt you,” You whisper, holding his jaw taught.

You’re so careful, holding his face in your soft hands with such tenderness he hasn’t felt in decades. And your eyebrows are furrowed in concentration, long lashes fluttering along your pretty eyes.

And Seungkwan finds himself torn between wanting to push you away and tell you to leave at once and to lean into your touch, to hold you closer and strip you bare – and he finds that it is intimacy he craves and that is the scariest thought of all.

As the razor glides along his chin, it makes a muffled scraping sound.

You’ve got your lips parted in concentration, in the same silly way he teased you in university when you made him hold up a compact mirror all so you could touch up your mascara.

“I need to do your moustache now,” You say, cleaning the razor off on the towel laid by your thigh before rinsing it off in the bath water.

Seungkwan doesn’t say anything, but obeys, pressing his lips together so his upper lip is tight enough to prevent injury. You’re doing it so carefully and yet, still manage to nick a tiny scratch on his skin.

He hisses and you immediately panic.

Picking up the towel you wipe off remaining foam to inspect the damage, there’s a bright red droplet of blood gushing down. You coo, muttering a soft sorry.

“God, I’m so sorry–”

Your fingers are caressing his cheeks, and your eyebrows are furrowed in worry, pretty lips pursued in a pout and he hates it. Hates that your touch makes any brief pain from the cut immediately disappear, hates that you look the prettiest you’ve ever looked despite your clear lack of makeup or any attempt at looking presentable.

“You can’t do anything right, can you?” He hisses, slapping your hand away.

You hit him back, muttering curses. “I should just shave off your fucking eyebrows.”

“You know I could pull it off.”

“Wanna see?” You smile, reaching for the razor and he immediately grabs your arm, stopping you from going any further because he knows you are just that crazy.

You finish off the last remaining bit and throw away the razor, moving onto shampoo. His expensive hair treatment smells like a fruity cocktail and you hum in envy.

Seungkwan closes his eyes, leaning into your fingers as you massage his scalp, worried about it well. Once it’s clean and conditioned, your job is done. While he soaks in the bath, you busy yourself with tidying up his vanity.

“What is this?” You ask, opening a bottle to smell its contents; it's a fresh scent, a little citrus-y. “Mhmm, smells good,”

“It’s a face toner…” He explains, not bothering to open his eyes, “It was a collaboration with a skincare brand.”

“Ooh, fancy,” You sing-song, putting it aside. “Where are your clean clothes? Do you even have any?”

“I don’t wear clothes at home.”

“You’re such a freak,” You laugh, tidying up the last bottle in its place on the dark marble counter. “I’m gonna throw the laundry in the washer, can you finish up by yourself?”

He hums.

So you leave the bathroom and gather the piles of forgotten items, squeezing everything into the washing machine without a care for his designer items; If he wants them to be carefully washed, he can wash them himself.

When you return to his room, he’s out of the bath and wearing a robe, it’s clearly fancy with its navy velvet and embroidered initials.

Seungkwan throws himself onto the bed without ceremony, finding some energy after the bath to finally plug his dead phone into the power.

“I’m gonna use your shower,” You announce, not waiting for his reply.

His phone blows up as soon as it turns on; hundreds of missed calls and messages from his manager, as expected. There are also messages from family; his sisters and mother still send in daily updates of their lives despite his lack of replies.

There are notifications from his social media accounts which he ignores. Nothing good will come from it.

Seokmin sent him a picture of his invitation for Sohee’s wedding, he looks at her name written in pretty cursive alongside her future husband’s for longer than he wished to admit.

There’s a bitter taste of defeat that lays heavy on his tongue,

Sohee was living proof of his weak, young self, whom he believed to be unlovable – getting his revenge on her meant avenging young Seungkwan with the awkward bangs and the rosy chubby cheeks.

The little boy from Jeju who would take mean-spirited comments without a fuss, who did everything to fit in, he’s the one that needs to be protected, right?

So why does he feel so fucking vulnerable, right now?

When you leave the shower, he hasn’t moved an inch; laying in bed, mindlessly scrolling through his timeline. You sigh, closing the bathroom door with a thud to call for attention.

You sit on the bed, laying down his expensive skincare bottles, the loud ‘pop’ from the lotion bottle finally gets his attention.

“What are you doing?”

“Skincare,” You say as a matter of factly.

He watches you smear the lotion over your bare face, happily humming at the citrus-y scent. With every swipe you make a comment on how good it is.

And then, you put some more on your hand and reach for his face, dotting the lotion along his cheeks and nose.

“Don’t put your disgusting hands on my face,” He groans, but makes no effort to push you away.

“I just showered, they’re clean!”

You straddle his waist, depositing the product all over to make sure of even coverage. Once you’re satisfied with your placement, you start rubbing it in.

His skin, usually silky smooth and without a blemish in sight, feels so rough you barely recognise it. You’re careful not to poke him with your nails– God knows he would never let you live it down; How dare you harm his beautiful face.

Seungkwan lets go of his phone, unconsciously reaching to settle his hands on your body – anywhere, they just feel so cold and empty away from you.

“Need to schedule a facial,” You whisper, running your fingers along his defined cheekbones, studying every one of his gorgeous features you’ve engraved into your brain.

He hums, fingers rubbing circles along your thighs. “Still look better than you.”

You laugh, surprised by the unexpected jab. It’s good to see him making jokes again. Done with his lotion, you lean forward, chest flush with his and faces only inches apart.

“In your dreams, Kwannie,”

And he wants to kiss you so bad.

Wants to wrap his arms around you tight so you’ll be there by the time he wakes up.

But you’re busy squishing his cheeks together so his lips will pucker up.

He shoves you into the mattress, robe slipping off partially. You’re wearing an oversized t-shirt found by his closet door, it smells strongly of his cologne and you’re sure the scent will stick to your skin by the time you wake up. And part of you, a foolish part of your stupid brain wants to never wash off the traces of him.

Seungkwan is pulling at the shirt, finding you’ve foregone underwear – not with any agenda in mind, you just didn’t want to wear your used panties to bed.

“Kwan– Wait,” You smile, swiping at his torso.

But it feels different.

This sort of rushedness is usually welcomed with excited butterflies in your stomach but he doesn’t meet your eyes, he doesn’t bite at his lips, doesn’t squeeze your waist with a teasing smirk.

He barely acknowledges you.

“Seungkwan, wait–” You pull away, shrinking into the headboard and he finally stops.

He looks… Angry?

That’s not quite it, but you can’t wrap your finger around it.

“We– We don’t have to do this…” You say, studying his expression.

“Do what? Fuck?”

You almost jump at the word. “We don’t have to do it if you don’t want to–”

“That’s all we always do isn’t it?” His eyes finally meet yours and you feel hideous– It’s as if he’s looking at an inconvenient stranger. You’ve known him half of your life, you’ve laughed and cried together and this is it? You’re some quick fuck in an uneventful night. “We meet, we fuck and then we leave. Let’s get this over with so you can fucking leave already.”

“We can talk when you little temper tantrum is over. I’ll be in the guest bedroom,” You stomp away, closing the door with a ‘Bang’ loud enough to maybe set his wits straight.

It’s a sleepless night for you, tossing and turning around the expensive bedding. Sometime around 2 am, you hear nervous shuffling by the door. It's a good ten minutes or so before he finally opens the door to peek inside.

“Just come in,” You say, his agitation getting to you.

Seungkwan jumps at the sound of your voice, not expecting you to be awake.

“You’re up?”

You hum, kicking off blankets to sit up. “C’mere.”

He approaches the bed, sitting by the end, far away from where you are but you tap the empty side with enough force to make him immediately scurry to lay by your side.

“Thanks,” He whispers, voice hoarse with sleepless anxiety.

Humming in response, you adjust yourself on your pillow, bringing his head onto your chest so you can run your fingers through his damp hair. “For what?”

“For not giving up on me,” Seungkwan snuggles against your ribcage, beating heart already lulling him to sleep.

You smile, digits tangling in his hair.

“I don’t know what I’ll do now…” He whispers, “The press had a field day with me.”

“We’ll fix it.”

“How?”

“I don’t know, we just will…” You shrug, “…It always works out in the end.”

Seungkwan scoffs, although your words are soothing.

“I didn’t know that girl would share those pics,” He sighs.

It wasn’t uncommon for celebrities to meet up and make use of certain substances, but there was an unwritten rule of no pictures or media – for obvious reasons. A model had posted a video on her Instagram Story and Seungkwan was amongst other celebrities recognised almost instantly.

He was immediately put on a hiatus by his company and substituted by Kim Mingyu for future episodes of Bad Clue.

“Honestly… What the fuck was that bitch thinking?!” You exclaim, angrier than expected.

“Rookies these days have no social media etiquette,” He says.

You giggle, “Oh, back in your day, they did? You sound so old.”

Seungkwan laughs at your comment

“I mean it,” he elaborates, “when I started out, Instagram wasn’t that important… Nowadays, agencies check your followers.”

“Sounds exhausting,” You hum and he agrees.

“I have more followers than Mingyu, though.”

And you let out a sincere laugh, chest shaking with giggles under his head. Seungkwan can’t help the sweet smile that finds his lips.

Before you, is TV sensation Kim Mingyu in the flesh, you still wondered how the hell did you pull this off. There were so many phone calls, you were certain somewhere in the middle the person would just hang up.

But alas, it all worked out and now you’re face to face with the man.

“I have something to offer you… I’ve heard you’ve been trying to get your babies into a good kindergarten… I could help you.”

Mingyu had twins – Not that the media knew about it. A young, handsome guy like him needed to play into fans’ fantasies a little. So, the agency hid his family life, against his wishes.

Mingyu is suddenly very interested, “What do you need from me?

“Get Seungkwan back on Bad clue.” He isn’t surprised at all by your request, but remains quiet. “If… If you were both MCs, you could play into the whole rival thing… You could do a pilot test… I know for certain if you talk to the company, they will allow it. If you can get back on air, I’ll get your girls into that school.” You’re this close to pleading, Mingyu was your only chance of fixing this situation.

“I would do that regardless… I do feel pretty bad for him,” He sighs, “not to say that the help wouldn’t come in handy– I am going crazy trying to get that spot.”

You smile, “It is a rather competitive school.”

“I know!” Mingyu whines, “They’re just babies, why is it so hard?! And I’ve got twins, it’s twice as hard!” You laugh at his complaint.

“Have you tried taking turns with them? They are identical, no one will know.”

“That’s what I said!” Mingyu exclaims, completely serious, “My wife almost did my head in.”

You laugh at the thought.

“I’ll talk to the company today.”

It’s as if a weight has been lifted from your chest.

“Thank you, Mingyu, really–”

“Don’t mention it… I was worried about taking his spot,” He explains, “Your idea is pretty good, I’ll relay it to the higher-ups… They might wait a little to scope out the public opinion, but I don’t think they will oppose… Seungkwan is just that good.”

With a smile, you clap your hands together, “Oh, that’s great to hear, thank you so much,” Mingyu waves off your gratitude. “I have a colleague that works on the school board… Just make sure your girls can pass the admission test and she can get them in.”

“Ah, you have no idea how helpful that is!” He exclaims, clearly burdened with worry about his babies’ futures.

And now, it was a waiting game. Hopefully, Mingyu’s charms would melt the director and Seungkwan should be returning to Bad Clue.

The conversation with Mingyu was a mood lifter, enough to make you buy ingredients for a rather special dinner. A good steak that was on sale, plenty of side dishes, and wine – Not anything special, you were working with a teacher’s salary, after all.

But it was enough to have the apartment smelling of herbs and spices as Seungkwan emerged from the front door. – He had finally gathered courage to talk to his manager about the future.

You’re happily humming, wearing the same shirt you wore to bed with your damp hair haphazardly pinned up with a pencil. His kitchen is currently upside down, with pans and pots strewn everywhere and ingredients awaiting to be cooked.

And it’s a new feeling; coming home to someone cooking you a warm meal, ready to welcome you home.

It was a pleasant surprise, almost enough to make him forget about the news that had overtaken the agency that day. A paparazzo had spotted Mingyu talking to you of all people in a lovely lunch setting.

The internet, unaware of Mingyu’s marital status, (Despite his lack of efforts to hide it), theorised you must be his girlfriend. This wasn’t about you and him, Seungkwan reminded himself. This was about morals.

After all, you were friends, were you not?

Friends didn’t go on lunch dates with their friend’s married rival.

There’s a song coming from your phone and you’re singing along terribly. And Seungkwan may or may not have used the opportunity to give you the jumpscare of your life.

The moment his hands pushed on your back, you jumped with a loud screech, accidentally nicking your finger with the knife. – Maybe that wasn’t the best idea Seungkwan ever had.

He is immediately remorseful, however, holding your bleeding finger and inspecting the damage. It didn’t help that you had pepper juices all over your hands and the cut stung like a bitch.

“I– Fucking hate you,” You hiss as he brings your finger under the tap.

“I know,” He says softly, reaching for a dishcloth to wrap your hand.

“Do you have anything in your first aid kit?” You ask, predicting his answer.

Seungkwan shakes his head.

His mother had made him a first aid kit when he first moved into this penthouse and he had used up all ointments, pomades and bandaids she’d carefully packed into that tiny white box.

You sigh, “My bag is on the sofa.” He brings you your bag and you urge him to rummage through your things to find plasters and antiseptic spray. He finally finds a small white pouch with the red cross embroidered.

Properly cleaned and disinfected, you picked out a Hello Kitty bandaid for your brand new wound.

“Why do you only have character band-aids?”

“I’m a teacher, dumbass. I’m constantly playing nurse to those suicidal babies. ” And Hello Kitty does scientifically, help heal all wounds, don’t fact check it.

“It’s weird,” He shrugs.

“What?” You put away everything, throwing the plaster packaging into the trash bin.

“You’re, like… A grown woman…”

“Wow, did you just find that out?”

He rolls his eyes. “I mean… It’s like… Just yesterday we were in school… And now you’re the teacher.”

“I know what you mean… Sometimes the school does feel pretty nostalgic.”

Seungkwan nods. “What are you making?”

“Ah!” You’re suddenly reminded of your forgotten dinner plans. “Steak and stir-fried vegetables.” “Mhm,” He hums, “That sounds amazing, I’m starving.”

“Can you cut up the vegetables for me?”

He gets to work, only slightly butchering the potatoes. You busy yourself on the stove where your band-aid is safe and away from direct contact with the food.

Slowly, you pry off the news from today. His manager was very worried but relieved to hear from him, they spoke about damage control and made plans for appearances and community work to appease the netizens.

You could only hope Mingyu would get through the directors and everything would return to normal.

Foregoing sitting down for a formal dinner, you had your plates by the counter, standing in the middle of the kitchen and chowing down on your masterpiece.

Midbite, you remember the wine sitting on top of the fridge and pop it open. Seungkwan makes a show of complaining over your cheap wine, but drinks it regardless.

“This is nice,” You say, genuinely.

Seungkwan stares at his plate. “Wasn’t your lunch with Mingyu nicer?”

You almost choke on your food. “What?!”

“You were talking to him…” Seungkwan crosses his arms, triceps flexing under the dim kitchen light.

“Mhm, yes, we met at that restaurant downtown,” You say as a matter of fact.

“Why?”

His voice is about an octave lower than usual, sending goosebumps up your spine. That was a tone you were used to hearing… in bed, and not in the middle of his kitchen.

“I had some things to discuss,” You explain, carefully watching his expression.

“And you needed to meet in such a romantic place?”

Oh, god, he was jealous.

“Kwannie–” Finally putting your half-finished plate down, you give him your full attention. “He’s married.”

“What about it?”

“He’s a married man with a beautiful wife and two beautiful kids.”

“That never stopped anyone. Men are trash.”

You can only laugh in disbelief.

“I’m not interested in Kim Mingyu,” You reach for his hands, grabbing his plate and putting it aside, “And I can assure you he is not interested in me either.”

Seungkwan humphs quietly.

“You’re cute,” Chewing on your lower lip, you study how taut his defined jaw is.

“What?!”

“I said you’re so fucking adorable I could eat you up,” You whisper against his lips and Seungkwan feels the blood drain from his body and rush toward his groin.

His hands hold your neck in place, free hand pulling out the pencil that held your hair off so his fingers could tangle into your locks. “Watch your tongue.”

You bite your lips, nodding at his words.

There’s a look in your eyes that he’s extremely familiar with, the dark glaze of lust that covers your beautiful gaze. You’re leaning against his body, rubbing your thighs together and he can’t help but love the situation you’re in.

Seungkwan brings your mouth to his and you mewl, fully melting into his touch. He walks forward until your back hits the counter and he’s pushing you onto cold marble, hands finding your bare thighs.

“Don’t meet him again,” He nips at your shoulder, trails of saliva dressing your skin in a lustful sheen.

You don’t respond, too busy arching your chest into his lips. Thoughts fogged up under his undivided attention.

“Answer me.”

“I won’t…”

Seungkwan settles between your legs like he belongs there, grabbing handfuls of skin with boundless desperation, consuming your body whole.

The sharp tracing of your fingers along his nape makes Seungkwan groan by your ears. Though it’s still not enough to pry off his attention from that sensitive spot just below your jaw which always seemed to be covered in purple spots after your rendezvous.

His hands–, his gorgeous, beautiful hands, tug at the shirt you wear, bunching up the fabric around your hips so he can finally tug your underwear off. Much to his surprise and delight, you’ve once again gone commando.

“Fuck,” Seungkwan bites his lips at the realisation you were completely naked under that oversized shirt all along. Nothing between your delicious pussy all along. “You’re driving me crazy, y’know that?” He whispers against your sensitive lips.

Slender fingers scissor you open; You gasp, grabbing fistfuls of his hair and just about anything you can reach. You’re dripping against his palm, filling the kitchen with nothing but lewd squelching sounds.

“Need you–” You hiss, contorting against cold marble, fingers tangling along his hair.

Seungkwan stills his movement, lifting his head from your cleavage to meet your eyes.

“Beg.”

The dark look that has taken over his usually sparkling eyes sends a shiver down your spine. There’s a sadistic undertone that drips from his hoarse voice you have yet to meet; And it excites you more than you’d expect.

You clench around his unmoving fingers.

Seungkwan smirks.

Before he can tease you any further, you give in.

“Please–” You plead, leaning forward until your lips are mere inches apart, “Please, I need you, Kwan– Need your big cock– Need you to fuck me ‘til I can’t walk.”

You watch him visibly gulp at your words, the volume poking at your leg getting more evident by the second.

And there’s a mischievous smile that finds your lips while he scrambles to undo his belt.

Because he wasn’t the only one with a sadistic little streak.

Though it’s all forgotten once he sinks fully into your entrance, groaning against your shoulder, grazing teeth hiding his silent grunts, of whispering how well you fit around him.

He smiles proudly against your skin, diving into your warmth to suck and nibble on the body he owns– just for the night, he reminds himself. Once morning comes you will leave and seek company of another.

A gentleman who will buy you flowers and never argue against your wishes because he will do anything to please you. A man who will never hesitate to hold you in public because he isn’t afraid to show the world you’re his.

A man who deserves you.

But for tonight, he will lie in your intoxicating smiles and pray sweet nothings until you forget every single one of his flaws– Forget he is unworthy of your attention.

With every thrust, you let out a breathy moan, but it’s not enough.

He wants his name to pour out of your lips, saccharine sweet and sultry; a siren’s beckoning. A call so tempting he can only dig further into your skin, bury himself into your heat, make a home in your veins.

“Who does this pussy belong to?”

“You–” You gulp, “You– You!”

“Say my name,”

“Seungkwan!”

He smiles, kissing your swollen lips and fastens his hips, pistoning into you. “That’s right, baby, you’re all mine, aren’t you?”

You nod, glassy eyes looking up to meet his with such unadulterated adoration. There’s nothing in your mind in this striking moment other than the way he pries you open, rubbing against your gummy walls, hitting your favourite spot every single time.

There are tears welling along your lash line, holding nothing but pleasure. You’re fucking crying because of how good he fucks you.

“Kwannie– I’m close,” You hiccup.

And Seungkwan kisses away your tears, crashing your lips into his, letting you fully melt into his kisses, drinking your every moan and whine as if he could consume you, little by little.

He lets your body relax into his arms, lets you scratch his skin open while you’re hiccuping into his lips, fat tears rolling down your cheeks.

You come, stilling in his arms with a high-pitched, strained cry of his name; He kisses every syllable off your lips with a satisfied smirk.

He keeps thrusting into your hips, riding out your body-shattering orgasm while finding his own; so, so close. Especially with the way you’re clenching around him, a ring of your slick collecting on the base of his cock.

“Are you–?” You have half a mind to ask, still coming down from your high.

“Yeah–” He replies, “Fuck– You feel so fuckin’ good.”

Nodding, you don’t suppress the muffled whines that escape your throat when he speeds up.

Yet, he still finds in him to hold a hand on the top of your head, preventing you from hitting the cupboard with such strenuous movement.

But you don’t notice. Running your lips against his neck, feeling your pleasure border on overstimulation, tears threatening to fall.

Seungkwan finally comes, hand tight on your hip, pressing onto your flesh as he slows down his pace, riding out his orgasm, coming undone into you with thick hot spurts.

You nearly collapse on top of him, and he chuckles, grabbing your arms to wrap around his shoulders for a more secure hold.

“Fuck…” He breathes out, a content smile on his swollen lips. “You were amazing,”

Seungkwan kisses your hair, a soothing hand running up and down across your back. You can only hum back, fingers lazily playing with the tag on his collar.

“Stay.” He speaks. “One more night.”

“Kwan– I can’t, I already bought the–”

“I’ll pay for everything. I’ll get you new ones, better ones. Stay, please.”

And you can’t bring yourself to ever say no.

The morning comes in lazy yawns and sleepy stretches. You’re tightly snuggled against his bare chest, tangled limbs strewn across his adored silk bedding.

Seungkwan leans to his side, bringing you closer to his chest. You let out a sleepy whine that tells him to quit moving and let you sleep.

He chuckles.

“Are we gonna stay in bed all day?”

His voice is hoarse with sleep and so irritatingly domestic and loving, you hate how it makes your stomach tingle with annoying butterflies.

“Maybe.”

With no protests toward your reply, he lays back and closes his eyes, fully intent on getting more sleep. But you’re fully awake and the awkward wetness between your legs doesn’t stem just from the remnants of last night’s activities.

You groan out, accepting just how fucking turned on Boo Seungkwan made you with a single phrase.

Kicking the duvet off, you slot yourself on top of his bare legs.

Seungkwan stares back at you with his stupidly adorable wide eyes. “What are you doin–”

That is, until you start moving back and forth, gliding your slick along his soft cock.

He lets out a strained moan, contorting under you.

It’s not long before he’s hard, and you guide him in.

His eyes are still drowsy and half-lidded, his pretty lips are parted in a permanent ‘o’ – and you can see the reddened skin you’ve bit. You’re fucking yourself on his cock, tits bouncing up and down with how vigorous you’ve started moving.

And the view is straight out a wet dream.

“Slow down–” He groans out.

“Can’t– Feels too good–” You whine out, leaning forward to capture his lips.

“I’m gonna cum too fast.” Seungkwan whines with an adorable pout and you smile against his lips.

“I don’t care– Give me your cum. Fill me up–”

Hips matching your own, Seungkwan makes true on his previous warning, coming undone in a strained moan. His fingers dig into your hips, enough to leave marks but still, careful enough to prevent injury.

Yet you keep your pace, milking his cock dry with a hand splayed across his bare chest as you chase your own high.

His eyes, half-lidded and laced with post-orgasmic haze, can’t believe the fantastic view he gets this early. Your slightly sleep-swollen face, furrowed brows, parted lips – which are marked with his kisses.

Once you come, you crash into his comfort. You dive into the warmth his body provides, letting it envelope your own and lull you into a sense of security.

His arms immediately wrap around your heaving body, nuzzling against your hair.

And he hates how much he loves this. The domesticity of waking up next to each other, lazy morning fucks and languid makeouts followed by sleepy brunches and doing nothing all day.

Fucking hell.

You’re awakened a couple hours later by the muffled sounds of Seungkwan readying himself for a day out.

“Where you goin’?” You groan out, still struggling to keep your eyes open.

Seungkwan looks at you with such a warm smile, walking toward the bed with excited steps.

“They called me this morning… I think this might be good,” He giggles excitedly and leans forward to kiss your cheek, “I’m leaving now, there’s leftover bagels on the counter.”

“Mhm– Bye. I love you.”

Seungkwan freezes.

Your words crashing onto his body like ice shards, shattering upon impact and creating ripples of cold goosebumps that travel down his spine.

Your stomach drops.

The realisation washes away any remaining sleep from your tired body. You lie still, eyes glued to his face; waiting, begging, for a reaction, anything.

A beat passes.

Then another.

And there’s nothing.

So you jump out of bed, scrambling for your scattered clothes and bag, heart pounding against your chest with a suffocating throb that crushes your lungs with every passing second.

He calls out your name, finally awaking from his trance.

You don’t reply.

You will not acknowledge these feelings.

#svt x reader smut #svt x you #svt seungkwan #svt smut #svt x reader #seventeen x reader #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #seventeen seungkwan smut #seventeen seungkwan #seventeen smut #seungkwan smut #seungkwan x reader #boo seungkwan x reader #boo seungkwan x reader smut #kpop smut #kpop x y/n #kpop x reader #kpop x you #kpop x reader smut #booseoksoon smut #also this is my most ao3 writer moment: #only this week i have gotten super sick and fallen upstairs #yes you read correctly #UP the stairs #I tripped and banged my knee on the steps #As It was #We're No Good Alone #💎svt

[beardedjoel]

closer | part thirteen

joel x f!reader. non-apocalypse au  

series masterlist | main masterlist | ao3  

chapter summary: it’s the fourth of july, and joel’s cookout is proving to lead to an interesting evening for the two of you. 12k words.

chapter warnings: 18+ MDNI, age difference (joel is 42 and reader is 25), soft!dom joel, rough sex, spanking, oral (m + f receiving), joel creams his jeans....., dirty talk, praise kink

a/n: i loooooove these fucking idiots!!!!!!!

The Fourth of July rolls around a few days later, and you wake up with a pit in your stomach that immediately follows you into the entirety of your morning. Your parents have been excited about it since Joel invited them to his cookout the other day. They have plans later on with some of your family here in Austin, but they decided to spend time at Joel’s for a while before going there. They’re just glad that they feel like they’re fitting in here in this new neighborhood, but meanwhile you want to throw up at the thought of interacting around him with this little secret of yours. You can’t deny that it also makes you feel a little bundle of desire tear through you when you think about sneaking around - stolen glances, grabbing at each other the second you get alone, the built up anticipation of the day spent around each other holding this in. It’s been working wonders on you just to think about, and despite Joel keeping you very satisfied lately, you find yourself craving more, sometimes needing to touch yourself when you two aren’t together just at the thought of him. Some things never change, you realize with a laugh, despite the fact that you’re getting what you wanted from him now. 

It doesn’t help that you haven’t been able to spend any time together the last few days, with Joel busy at work and getting things prepared for his party. Him and his crew even took a brief hiatus from everything at your parents house with the holiday, leaving the bathroom operational but needing its final touches. 

Joel has been texting you a bit for the last few days, but it’s weird to feel this distant from him, especially since the last night you spent together had been completely mind altering. The man had made you come six times, something you would have said was probably not possible before then. Having no direct contact with him since then, however, has set you a bit on edge, making you feel even more self conscious and anxious about seeing him later today in front of so many people. You just hope that there wasn’t anything that had happened that night that put him off of you.

You decide to try and ease some of your nerves and go for a swim, changing into a white bikini and grabbing a towel before heading out to the backyard. You made sure to grab a glass of iced coffee to sip on while you continue to wake up for the day. You dangle your feet for a while, trying to take steadying breaths as the still early sun beats down on you and sip on your coffee. You finally plunge yourself in, swimming a few laps around the pool to get some nervous energy out of you before pulling yourself onto an innertube and floating around aimlessly. You try to let the soft lapping of the water and gentle way you’re floating give you some peace of mind, but you’re worried about all of the people you might run into at Joel’s cookout. Are his friends going to be there? Family? Coworkers? All of these people in his life who know him well, but have no idea about you and the things you do together. The thought makes your stomach twist in equal anticipation and desire and the familiar ache of desire comes between your legs. You’re fighting it, feeling too lazy to get out of the pool just to rub one out, but it’s becoming hard to ignore. 

As if right on cue, Joel slides open his back door and comes outside, clearly ready to make preparations for the party today as he lugs out some extra folding chairs, and then tables with multiple trips. You smile to yourself that he hasn’t noticed you yet, and you can just watch him work, his muscles popping as he carries things out of the house and sets them up. You have the urge to run up to him, make him promise that he still wants you, but you quickly veto the idea from your worry-ridden brain. You’ll just play it cool, he’s allowed to be busy, after all. A pleasant hum escapes your lips at the sight of him continuing to work and you feel the ache between your legs you have been trying to ignore growing. 

Joel’s head does a double take in your direction, a shocked looking expression on his face at the way you’re casually floating through the pool, body on full display as you toy with the straw to your iced coffee with your tongue. Joel stands, staring at you for several moments before deciding to pull out his phone. You float over to the edge of the pool where you left yours, and sure enough, a message from him comes through a moment later. 

Joel: How long have you been watching me?

You: Long enough to get worked up

You see Joel practically groaning with a tight expression from across your two yards, a smug smile suddenly on your lips at his reaction. 

Joel: You know what happens when you tease me like this, sweet girl

You: Oh, I know. I’m counting on it happening

Joel looks up from his phone, his eyes lingering on you for a few long moments before he looks back down and begins typing furiously.

Joel: Extra punishment will be making you wait even longer for what you want from me. You’ve got to earn back being my good girl if you’re going to act like this

Now it’s your turn to groan, the wetness between your legs becoming more apparent with each message he sends and you squirm a little on the inner tube, your thighs rubbing and clamping together. The last time he made you earn that status, it ended up being the most fucking insane night you’ve ever spent with another man, and you’d be eager to repeat it again. Joel is watching your every move intently as he glances up from his phone. A moment later, your phone pings again. 

Joel: If you’re so worked up why don’t you go touch that little pussy and think of my cock inside of you while you come

You inhale a sharp breath as you read the message and your thighs squeeze even tighter. You almost don’t want to give him the satisfaction of rushing off to touch yourself, but the needy aching of your pussy is absolutely taking over right now. 

You: Why don’t you come and do it for me?

Joel: That’s for good girls, and as we both know, right now you aren’t one of them you little fucking tease

You see Joel warring with himself, but deciding not to come pleasure you seems to be his final decision. You sit and pout for a few moments before deciding if you’re going to be a bad girl for him today, you might as well keep it going. You plunge into the pool off of your floatie, dunking your head under. You surface and swim yourself to the edge of the pool, climbing out by the ladder. You tilt your head back slightly, exposing the length of your neck and dripping hair behind it, your bikini shifting on your body with the weight of the water. Your nipples are stiff from the chill of the pool and temperature change, and you know Joel can probably see them clear from over there. You wring your hair out and throw it causally back behind your shoulder, letting the glistening drops of water cascade all down your body. You shoot a biting glance to Joel, who is gripping the back of one of the folding chairs tightly, watching you. You smile sweetly, gathering your towel and phone before heading back into your apartment. 

Your phone buzzes as soon as you’re inside, of course, with another message from Joel. 

Joel: Can’t resist touching that perfect wet pussy because I told you to huh?

You: Would rather it be you… my door’s unlocked. 

You can feel the hesitation in his response, the bubbles popping up and disappearing several times before he answers. Your hand has already snaked into the wet fabric of your bikini bottoms, your fingers brushing against your clit as you let out a little moan. 

Joel: You’ve got to wait for what you really want and think about what a little tease you are. 

If he wants a tease, you’ll fucking show him a tease. You pull down your bottoms, standing half naked and stalking over to the window that overlooks Joel’s yard. You shoot him a quick message before bringing your hand back down in between your legs. 

You: You’re gonna wish you’d never called me a tease

Joel seems to take the hint, and you love that he knows you well enough to know that text meant to look up at the window. His jaw slackens a little at the sight of you in the distance, hand in between your legs, cupping yourself and then beginning to rub your finger on your clit again. You hear your phone going off as you get more into it, your fingers exploring lower as you sink one inside of yourself. You hope from this distance Joel can see the waves of pleasure crossing your face as you moan into the touch. Your phone pings again, and again, so you stop suddenly to look down at it.

Joel: Naughty girl… you’re going to regret that 

Joel: I know you only wish that was me right now, desperate little thing. You know it won’t be the same without my cock inside of you

The last message makes you laugh out loud, simply him typing “Fuck” and sending it to you. You open his contact info and dial his number, setting the phone back down and putting it on speaker. He answers silently, opting not to say anything right away as you step fully back into view of the window, watching him hold the phone up to his ear as he sits on a patio chair facing your window.

You pick up where you left off, rubbing circles on your clit as Joel watches on, and now you moan a little more loudly, making sure your phone picks it up. You swear you can hear Joel breathing heavily on the other end in between your own noises.

“Play with your tits, baby, let me see,” he spits out, seeming to break his vow of silence that was being used to punish you. You love that you’re unraveling him by the moment, and it turns you on even more, urging you along. You brush your hands along the curves of your breasts, playing with one of your nipples, through the thin material of your bikini top, causing your hips to buck forward a little bit as you groan.

“Yeah, baby, that’s it,” Joel murmurs. You see him discreetly cup himself on the front of his jeans, trying to soothe some of his own ache, and you smile deviously.

“Need something over there?” you breathe out as you slide your fingers down and start pushing one in and out of yourself.

“Tell me what you’re doing,” he commands, ignoring your sass, and you know it’s killing him he can’t see you as clearly as he would like.

“I’m fucking myself with my finger,” you state plainly as you moan quietly when your thumb brushes your clit again.

“Just the one? I know you can take more than that, my filthy little girl,” Joel says with the hint of a smirk in his voice.

“You don’t get to tell me what to do,” you say defiantly, feeling bold with this much distance between you.

“But I do, baby. You told me that first night, you want me to take control, and I can see how much you fuckin’ love it when I order you around, tell you where to put your hands and when. How to move your body for me, when to come. Want to be an obedient little thing for me, don’t ya? Even when you act up like a little brat.”

Now you break out in a small sweat, knowing he’s right, having told him all of that yourself. You unleash a louder moan as his words echo through your mind and your finger moves quicker on your clit, your other hand still playing with your nipples.

“I do,” you breathe out, giving in to him embarrassingly easily.

“Good. Now put two more fingers in and fucking take it,” he says quietly, a lethal, low tone to his voice, and you shudder at the sound. You do as he says, whimpering a little at the sudden stretch, but he’s right, it feels amazing. “Well?” he says impatiently.

“F-feels so nice,” you mumble, lost in the pleasure, finding it hard to stay standing in front of the window as your knees want to buckle underneath you.

“Good girl,” he says, and you light up a little at the words, wondering if you’ve earned them back. “Just for now,” he coos, “I have a few more things in mind to teach you a lesson.” 

Just the thought of what those ideas could be is enough to send you over the edge, and you start coming onto your hand, plunging the three fingers deep into yourself and hitting your g-spot. You moan loudly, and through hooded eyes and can see Joel’s tense form sitting down below, watching you squirm and writhe as you ride the waves of pleasure from your climax.

“Mmm,” you hear him breathe out through the phone, not taking his eyes off of you.

“You missed out,” you say with a little laugh, your breathing still coming down from the pure bliss of the previous moment.

“I’ll see you later, yeah?” Joel confirms.

“Yeah,” you reply.

“Good. Can’t wait to get my mouth on ya,” he says. You shudder a little, the aftershocks of your climax still present and you feel a dull ache rising back up at his words.

“Don’t you have something you need to take care of?” you say suddenly, seeing his hand still resting on his likely throbbing crotch.

Joel grunts disapprovingly, but doesn’t deny it. “Smart ass,” he teases, and you laugh.

“See you later, Joel,” you say, before hanging up, hoping to leave him wanting. It doesn’t take him long to get out of the chair and head inside, where you know he’s going to jerk himself off to the thought of what he just watched you do. It spreads a warm little feeling throughout your chest as you smile to yourself, moving from the window to get ready for the day.

Your confidence from this morning has all but faded as you check yourself in the mirror one more time before having to leave for Joel’s cookout. You suddenly hate every piece of clothing you own, feeling less confident than ever around him. Maybe it’s because you know that he can’t pay attention to you in the way you’re used to, and you’re worried about how others there are going to view you. You swear you never used to be this socially anxious, right? Or maybe nobody had brought it out of you like this before.

You decided on a plain white mini dress, thinking it’s simple and classic, and it shows off enough of your legs and curves that you think Joel will enjoy getting an eyeful of you and have to deal with resisting you for hours. You spent a little more time on your hair to get it into pretty, loose waves that you’ve clipped half back. Your makeup was an effort, but you managed to get something you’re proud of, a fresh, clean look with a little dark eyeliner and mascara, a slight bit of shimmer on your eyelids, and a touch of blush and pink lip gloss. You do feel pretty, you think as you tilt your head at yourself in the mirror, it’s just important to you that Joel thinks so too.

You breathe out a final breath before meeting your parents in their house to head over together. Your mom fawns over your outfit and hair for a few moments while you feel flushed with heat uncomfortably thinking if she only knew the half of it she wouldn’t be so excited about it. Your mom and you keep a close eye on your dad as he makes his way over to Joel’s on his crutches, but luckily it’s a short distance and he’s been getting quite good at using them lately. You swallow hard as you see the party is in full swing, and Joel looks like he’s having a great time, chatting amicably with a group of people somewhere within his age group. When he sees you and your parents approaching, he smiles, breaking away from the conversation to greet you three. He goes to greet your parents first, thanking them for coming, but you can see his eyes linger on you several times throughout their conversation, taking in your dress as flickers of heat flash in his eyes a few times. You know it was quick enough that only you’d notice, but it doesn’t mean you don’t little feel a little rush at the sight. He finally greets you casually with a wave and words of gratitude for coming by, and it’s a struggle to keep your tone neutral as you reply to him.

He invites you inside to grab something to drink, and you agree, telling your parents you’ll grab them something as well. You breathe out a small sigh of relief when you see his kitchen is mostly empty, aside from a few folks grabbing plates of food from the counter and bringing them outside.

“Nice dress,” he says, maybe the most quiet you’ve ever heard him. You inhale sharply, just the change in his tone from the way it was outside enough to set you off. You let a smile peek out the side of your mouth.

“Wore this with you in mind,” you say, trying to be just as quiet as you two open the fridge and look inside. 

“There’s more options outside in the coolers, if ya want,” he tells you, and you turn towards him, locking eyes fully for the first time since you arrived. And… you’re melting. You force yourself to get it together quickly, snagging three beers from the fridge and holding them against your body. It honestly feels good to have the cool sweat of the cans pressing against you, grounding you to the present instead of wherever your mind was trying to take you with Joel.

“This is good,” you say, smiling up at him. The look he gives you is absolutely devastating, a sly little smile like he knows you, he wants you, he’d rather stay alone in this room with you all night. You try to return the look as best you can before you two have to head back outside. His hand brushes along your lower back down to your ass as he walks behind you, his fingers trailing there for just a moment before he splits away from you when the door to the patio opens. You force yourself to breathe out a long, calming exhale and locate your parents.

You hand the drinks to them and have a seat at their table. They’ve already gotten into a conversation with another neighbor, and you’re glad they’re getting to know other folks in the neighborhood. You’re not actively participating in the conversation, or even fully listening, but you’re trying your best not to be rude and speak up here and there when it calls for it. You’re too busy keeping tabs on Joel, feeling like a complete psycho as you do it, but your mind isn’t able to focus on much else.

He’s over at the grill, cooking up steaks, burgers and brats for everyone. Everything, all the meats, sides, and snacks smell and look amazing, but once again, you find yourself distracted as you watch Joel’s broad shoulders and muscled back working over at the grill. You can help but notice a beautiful woman at his side, holding onto a plastic cup and laughing as she chats animatedly with Joel. Something twists deep in your gut, and you immediately hate yourself for it. It’s a primal, sickening feeling borne completely out of jealousy, you know, and you take a large swig of your beer to try and drown it out into the background of your thoughts. 

Of course Joel is going to have beautiful women talking to him. You can’t expect that you’re the only one he’d want to fuck around with when he looks like that and could easily pull another woman anytime he wanted. He’s sweet, charming, and attractive, so it makes sense that he would be getting this kind of attention. It doesn’t mean you have to like it, though, you think, drinking your beer more quickly now. You want to slow down, but you suddenly think that maybe alcohol will help calm the intense surge of jealousy and anxiety that’s tearing through you right now. You know he said just last week that he had only been thinking about messing around with you lately, but it doesn’t mean he hasn’t and won’t change his mind, and you hate the thought of that. 

You know that your eyes are glued to him, and to the observant person you must look slightly obsessive with the way you’re stare at him. Joel and the mystery woman are still chatting, and he seems happy, which you want for him, but it still causes a sinking feeling to pass through you. Suddenly, Joel’s head turns in your direction when the woman is distracted by another party goer joining their conversation. His eyes catch yours but you quickly look away, gripping onto the cold can of beer in your hand. But you know he saw you staring daggers into his back. You flick your eyes back up to his face, where he’s giving you a wry expression, as if he’s been reading your thoughts for the last few minutes. You try to give him a smile but it comes out weak, not reaching your eyes. He dares a quick wink at you and suddenly your chest is rising with warmth again, this little bit of attention enough to begin busting you out of the dark jealousy that was overwhelming you.

You take a deep breath, your eyes catching on a familiar face across the patio. You excuse yourself from your parents and walk over, smiling shyly. 

“Hey, Tommy,” you say.

“Hey there,” he replies, returning your smile. “How you been?” You forgot just how warm and kind his presence is, a lifeline to you at this party full of strangers. 

“Oh, not too bad,” you say, but you know the reason you came over isn’t to exchange pleasantries. “Listen, um, I just wanted to apologize for the last time we met, that was super… well, awkward,” you admit, casting your eyes on and off the ground as you try to get out what you need to say. 

“Aw, hey, no worries. I know you weren’t trying to make things uncomfortable. My brother can make an ass of himself sometimes,” Tommy says with a smile.

“I think I egged him on, so don’t go too hard on him,” you admit, twisting your lips to the side. Tommy eyes you with a slight look of questioning but doesn’t say anything for a moment. 

“Probably shouldn’t say this, but I’ve never seen my brother so in his head about someone before,” Tommy says suddenly with a thoughtful expression, and you feel your stomach bottom out as a nervous churning overtakes you. 

“What?” you manage to stutter out, unable to think of anything else to say. Your mind is reeling with too many sudden thoughts, and it’s hard to keep yourself present. 

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have said anythin’,” he concludes. 

“No, it’s okay. I just didn’t know what you meant. I think you’ve got to be misreading things.”

Now it’s Tommy’s turn to look taken aback. “Misreading things? Sweetheart, no offense, but I nearly caught you and my brother about to jump each other's bones.”

You laugh lightheartedly at his response, and he smiles. “I just mean about him being in his head. I think I’m just… stress relief, or something,” you say with a slight cringe. You don’t know how you’ve ended up admitting even more to Joel’s brother about the nature of your relationship, yet here you are. 

“I see, so you two haven’t stopped things, then,” Tommy replies a little more seriously. 

“Maybe it’s my turn to not have said anything,” you grimace, feeling like you’ve overstepped. 

“S‘alright. I had a feeling, anyway.” He shrugs, taking a sip from the cup in his hands. 

“We aren’t really telling anyone about it, if you could… y’know. Sorry to put you in a weird spot.” You look at Tommy with a hopeful and apologetic expression, feeling completely uncomfortable with your request to him.

“I got you. It’s alright. I just want you to be careful, is all. I’ll handle things with my brother, you shouldn’t have to be in the middle of all this.” Tommy replies. You wonder what he means about being careful, but you don’t know if you can handle inserting Tommy into this situation any longer. 

You nod slightly. “Thanks,” you say, and then decide to change the subject. “Are you enjoying the party? This is really nice.”

Tommy looks appreciative for the more normal conversation and nods. “Yeah, every year it’s always a good time. I like seein’ everyone gathered together like this.”

“It’s nice, although I know literally nobody here,” you chuckle. 

Tommy looks out at the crowd of people enjoying themselves with you. “Want any introductions?”

“Oh, god, no. I think I might be too shy for that.”

Tommy lifts an eyebrow at you. “Lemme know if you change your mind.”

“Actually,” you spit out quickly, “Not an introduction, but, uh, who’s that? With the blonde hair over there?” you ask, nodding your head in the direction of the woman who’d been talking with Joel. 

Tommy’s expression becomes even more suspicious, and he looks you in the eyes, a gleaming hint of amusement behind them. 

“Old friend, why?” he asks, crossing his arms.

“Just wondering. She’s very… uh…” you trail off, feeling like shrinking up into yourself and never coming out again. Tommy laughs good naturedly at your pained expression. 

“Do yourself a favor and just enjoy the party. No use worrying about what my brother’s up to, eh?” Tommy says, his tone lightening with encouragement towards you.

“That’s probably good advice,” you respond, pondering for a few beats. “Thanks, for being so kind to me when you don’t have to be.”

“You’ve done nothin’ to warrant anything other than that, alright? I ain’t mad at ya,” Tommy tells you with a quick squeeze on your shoulder. You smile, and then Tommy gets called out by another guest at the party, so he kindly excuses himself to speak to them.

You stand alone now, crinkling the sides of your now empty beer can. You glance over at your parents, having what looks like the time of their lives with all their neighbors, engaged in a fun conversation that you don’t have the energy to be a part of right now. You see Joel, finishing up everything on the grill, encouraging the people around him to make plates. You feel completely lost suddenly, like you don’t know where to go, who to sit next to, if you would choke on your words if you tried to talk to one of the many strangers surrounding you. 

Fuck, you think, as you slip the few steps behind you to the sliding door, opening it and stepping inside. You go to the fridge, pulling out another beer and cracking it open, taking long, drawn out swigs until it’s half empty. You catch eyes with someone coming back from using the restroom and give them a shy smile, which they return. You breathe out a shaky exhale and stand with your back leaning against the counter, grateful for a few quiet moments to yourself. 

This is ridiculous, you think to yourself. You have always been alright in groups, able to at least introduce yourself despite having been rather shy your whole life. Seeing Joel with that beautiful woman really got in your head more than you would have expected, and you suddenly felt like you couldn’t approach him at all, like the last few weeks together have been completely erased. You finish your second beer, immediately going for a third and deciding you have enough liquid courage to head outside. You see Joel’s eyes catch your entrance, a quick flash of disappointment he didn’t get a chance to see you when you were alone inside. 

You continue into the party, grabbing an empty paper plate and filling it with food. You feel that last beer you quickly drank settling and a slight tipsy haze coming over you, making you feel a bit more brave than you were before. You sit at a table with your now full plate, complete strangers at every seat, but they look kindly at you as you sit. 

“Is this alright?” you ask them. Most of them nod enthusiastically, saying muddled greetings to you that are overlapping as they all talk at once. One of them, a woman with dark brown hair and kind green eyes smiles at you. 

“Haven’t seen you at one of these before,” she comments, taking a bite from her own plate of food. 

“My parents live next door. They just moved in this summer,” you announce. “How do you know Joel?” you casually ask, looking around the table to invite anyone there into the conversation. 

Several of them reply that they work with, or rather for, Joel, but it seems like a casual relationship, that they’re all very friendly outside of work. The woman who greeted you also works for Joel, and you can see it now, her rough hands and strong body are definitely someone who does physical labor for a living. 

“Is he a mean boss?” you ask with a hint of teasing in your voice, and they laugh. You spot Joel out of the corner of your eye when the laughter sounding from the table catches his attention, and it makes you want to smile smugly that you’re now a distraction for him too. 

“No way, not at all,” one of the guys answers with a shake of his head. “Tough, but fair,” he concludes. You could see that in him, that he doesn't take bullshit, and as long as you’re doing what you’re supposed to be doing on the job, he’d be happy. You feel a strong hand grip your shoulder, the way the fingers curl around it is familiar and you fight the urge to shudder down your entire spine. You know before turning your head who you’re about to see, but the stunning form of Joel above you as you sit still threatens to pull the air from your lungs. He’s slightly red cheeked from laughter and the heat of the grill, his hair causally messy, and his navy blue shirt clinging to him. 

“Don’t tell me they’re all talkin’ about me,” Joel says to you, removing his hand before it’s there too long for anyone to grow suspicious. You all smile and chuckle, several of his employees denying it but smirking light heartedly. “Whatever it is, I probably deserve it.” 

“Oh, I’m sure he does,” a new voice says, and you peer away from Joel, turning your head to see the woman who’d been chatting with Joel earlier standing across from you. Her elegant, perfectly manicured fingers are holding her cup as she takes a drink, and she’s even more beautiful up close. Her hair is short, blonde and pin straight, shiny as the sun catches it. Her red t-shirt and jean shorts show off her curves and tall legs. You immediately shy away from the conversation, just taking her in for a moment while everyone starts jokingly poking fun at Joel. You try to laugh along, staying with the conversation. It’s not like the woman is looking at Joel in any particular way that bothers you, in fact, she just seems perfectly friendly towards him. The hints of flirtation are in the way she sometimes watches him for a few extra seconds, always seeming to be laughing around him. And if they were together in some form, is that really something you can be upset about? Joel has never expressed having feelings deeper for you than physical ones, so you have no right, no claim to him as yours, really.

“I’m Lexi,” she says, looking at you. Her voice is sweet but smoky, and you suddenly wish your own voice didn’t have to follow it up. “I don’t think I’ve met you before, right?”

You shake your head and introduce yourself, trying to project your voice despite feeling like shrinking up. You explain to her about your parents moving in next door, and she replies enthusiastically. You genuinely don’t know how you’re getting words out, how you’re carrying a conversation with her. You’re getting that overwhelmed feeling again, like you don’t know what to do with all of the emotion you carry for Joel. It’s painful to think about, picturing him and that woman together, him doing the toe-curling, life changing things that he does to you to her instead. You’re already halfway through this next beer too, and it’s not helping with your unsettled stomach now as jealousy and confusion curdle it. 

“Did everyone get enough to eat?” Joel asks, acting as ever the good host, and his voice cuts into your introspection. Most people murmur affirmative responses, claims of how good everything is, and expressions of gratitude.

“I was actually going to get some of that fruit salad, I totally forgot,” you announce, trying hard not to slur your words as you find the perfect out of the situation. Joel steps back slightly from where he was standing behind your chair and lets you out. You refuse to make eye contact with him, afraid he could read you in a second, but you quickly grin at everyone at the table before stepping off, trying to rush away as casually as possible. 

You make it back inside, the cool air a balm to your skin and current emotional state. A few people mill around and you breeze past them, finding your way down the hall. Instead of holing up in the bathroom and blocking people from using it, you explore further down, cracking open a closed door at the end of the small hallway. Sure, it’s not completely moral to snoop, but you just need somewhere you can be alone right now. You peer inside, slipping in and shutting the door quietly behind you before breathing out, long and slow - this is much better. 

It looks like you’re in Joel’s office, a rather small room but it seems to get the job done. There’s a dark wooden desk with his computer on it, piles of paper, folders and typical office supplies adorn the top of it. He has a filing cabinet underneath the desk to one side, and a small seating area on the other wall with two comfortable looking leather chairs. You head over to one of those, sinking yourself down into it and pulling out your phone to distract yourself. You managed to remember your beer, you notice as your other hand still grips the can, so you finish it, willing your brain to just give in to the tipsiness and forget all the stupid, shitty thoughts you’re having right now. 

The door opens a few minutes later and you jump at the sound of the doorknob turning. Your mouth is already open, ready to spill out some excuse to whoever is walking in, but instead, you say nothing as Joel comes into the room, closing the door behind him. He approaches you slowly, purposefully, with a tense look in his eye. 

“Now what’s my girl doing hidin’ out in here, hm?” he asks. 

“I… needed a minute,” you say, unable to think clearly at the sight of him after being three beers deep in a relatively short time span. 

“Hmm,” Joel says, approaching the chair and standing there directly in front of your legs, looking down on you. You suddenly salivate, feeling your insides burning with the desire to taste him, to pleasure him, to make sure he knows how good you’ll be for him so he doesn’t forget you in lieu of some other beautiful woman. “You still need a minute, or should I stay?” he asks, and you know he knows there’s only one answer to that question. 

Instead of saying anything, you reach forward to his waist, undoing his belt while you peer your eyes up at him, blinking slowly and pouting your lips. He stands silently, letting you work on his belt and you reach for the button and zipper of his jeans. His eyebrow cocks a little when the zipper goes down and you inhale sharply at the throbbing bulge against the fabric of his briefs. 

“Baby, if you’re upset or jealous, you can tell me. I saw you watchin’ me all day,” he suddenly says, and you stop, your hand resting on the waistband of his briefs. You feel vulnerable and transparent all of a sudden, realizing that he’s noticed it that much. 

“I’m… not,” you say, completely unconvincingly. 

“My only question, baby, is why?” Joel says sternly, gripping your chin with his thumb and forefinger, forcing you to keep looking up at him. “Why be jealous when your sweet little cunt is all I want wrapped around my cock, and I keep comin’ back for more no matter how hard I try not to. What’s there to be jealous about when all of that’s so obvious?” He shakes his head slowly, looking at you with a mixture of softness and frustration on his face.

You stun at his words. “I - I don’t know. I don’t feel like I’m… there are a lot of pretty women. I just want to show you -“ you stop, gulping heavily and trying to avoid his eyes. “Show you…” you trail off, reaching into his briefs and pulling his hard cock out. The length of it slips free, reminding you just how deliciously big he is. You lick your lips at the sight, hoping he understands what you’re trying to say when your words are failing you. 

Joel’s head tilts and he slides the hand on your chin around to the back of your head, gripping tightly. “If you won’t listen to me, then I’ll just have to fuck those jealous words right out of your pretty little mouth, won’t I?”

Your lips part slightly in shock but you nod, dipping your eyes to his cock and biting your lip. 

“On your knees, sweetheart,” Joel says, and you quickly slide off the chair, landing softly on your knees with your head perfectly positioned in front of his hips. He pulls out your hair clip, letting the half of your hair free that was pinned up. He splays his hand onto the back of your head now, holding it still while his hips thrust forward, the head of his cock brushing your lips. You open them and he slides in, just moving the head slightly in and out. “Yeah, that’s it, baby,” he groans quietly as the wetness of your mouth envelops him. 

His hips move more aggressively now, holding true on his promise to practically fuck the words out of your mouth as he suddenly pushes in to the back of your throat, threatening to gag you. It feels good, almost like he is able to fuck those thoughts out of your head if you can just take his cock as deep as he wants you to. You’re desperate to be his number one, the only one he wants to spend time with like this, and you suck hard on him as he pulls out, eliciting a loud groan until he pushes back in as far as he can again. 

“Fuckin’ Christ, angel, look at you…” Joel breathes out, watching his hips push his length into your mouth over and over as his hand holds your head steady. “Takin’ my cock so good when you’re jealous, huh?”

You let out a tiny moan of affirmation, the vibration of your mouth on him making him shudder slightly. He’s now pushing your head in towards him with his thrusts, his own head tilting back as his eyes flutter slightly as he goes deep. You gag, spit drooling out all around his cock, and it urges Joel on further as he doesn’t let up. 

“That’s right, you’ll never say another jealous word again, will you? Gonna believe what I say? Gonna be a good girl and let me praise you and worship that perfect pussy without any questions?” he drawls out, his voice full of heady desire and grit. Your pussy pulses and throbs at his words and the feel of his thick cock in your mouth.

You can only make a noise you hope Joel will take as a yes from you. You feel like you should hate what he’s saying - the possessive, condescending tone behind it all, but you fucking love it, and you know Joel does too. Maybe you two are made for each other in this way - someone only seeking to be praised and dominated, and the other more than willing to give that to them. It’s no secret just how much he loves turning you into a sloppy, begging mess for him, and you’ve learned that you’re happy to let him whenever he wants it. 

“Fuck, baby,” he blurts out, “Look at you, fuckin’ love suckin’ cock, don’t you? Bet you thought about it all day, I know I missed your lips wrapped around me. All I could think about watching you in that little dress,” he hums, steadily continuing his thrusts into you. They’re turning more ragged, his body trembling slightly from the pleasure. He whimpers as you flex your tongue to flick down the length of him as he is pulling back before plunging it in and rapidly repeating the movements. 

He moans, a breathy noise coming out of him and he pulls out quickly, fisting his cock with his free hand and aiming it for your chest. You lurch forward, frowning as your mouth misses the fullness of him immediately. 

“Only comin’ in you once you’ve earned it back. You’ve been a bad girl today, remember?” He smirks as he pumps on his cock several more times before groaning, the ropes of cum releasing onto your neck and chest. It drips immediately between your breasts, sliding down into your dress. He watches it intently, the sight of his cum slowly working its way down your tits while you gaze up at him with desperate eyes threatening to turn him on all over again. “If you want a taste, it’s right there,” he says with a smug grin that you want to kiss off of his face.

“So unfair,” you whine, slumping down further onto the floor, giving your knees a rest. 

“Deal’s a deal, baby,” Joel says, tucking himself back into his jeans and refastening everything. “Maybe you won’t be such a little tease next time.” He winks at you before lifting an eyebrow. 

You gape your mouth open, unable to find a good enough retort for him. Joel hands you a tissue off the box on his desk and you wipe yourself up, and you’re feeling thankful that you wore white today. Joel reaches out a hand and pulls you up, tucking you in under his arms for several moments. He breathes in deeply, taking in your scent before sighing. 

“Can’t stay in here forever,” he says to you, pulling back a little bit. The look of disappointment on his face matches exactly how you’re feeling right now. 

“I know,” you reply, frowning. “You go first, and I’ll come out in a few minutes.” He nods and lets go of your waist, his presence immediately missed by your body.

“Oh,” Joel says, stopping halfway to the door, “After everyone goes home, you wanna come out with me to watch some fireworks?” Joel asks, and the stark contrast to the man he was a few minutes ago is jarring. A smile tugs at your lips and you let it show completely, not caring about playing it cool right now. 

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

Your parents went to spend the second half of the day with your mom’s brother and his family, having gotten an invite to watch fireworks as a group. You made up the lousiest excuse that you just weren’t feeling up for it after Joel’s party, but it worked well enough.

You meet Joel outside close to dark and climb into his truck. He risks a small kiss on your lips once you two are settled in the car, and you glance around afterwards to see if anyone could’ve seen it. You’re not sure what you’d even do if someone did see, but you’ve been feeling the compulsion to check anyway since you two agreed to sneak around.

Joel drives off, glancing over at you every so often with a soft look in his eyes. 

“You took the dress off,” he comments into the silence. 

“There was, well, cum on it, so…” you say plainly, and Joel lets out a loose chuckle that takes several moments to subside. 

“Fair enough, baby. S’okay, I almost like this better anyways,” he says, sneaking another look at you before focusing back on the road. You changed into tight spandex shorts and a little crop top, throwing on an oversized, comfortable zip up jacket over it in case it got cool once the sun went down. 

“You say that about everything I wear,” you counteract. 

“Cause I like everything you wear,” Joel shrugs. “You look good in anythin’ darlin’.”

You bite the inside of your lip as a half smile pulls at the corner of your mouth at his sweet words.

“Did you have fun today?” Joel asks. 

“I… did. I think you threw a great party, really. It was just a lot for me with all the new people and not being able just - to kiss you when I wanted,” you admit. 

“I hear ya, that was tough. Maybe no parties for a while,” he says, and you chuckle a little. 

“Didn’t know you were so popular, though,” you tease, waggling your eyebrows when Joel shoots you a skeptical glance. 

“Not true,” he retorts. 

“Is so. Everyone there loves you, Joel, accept it,” you say defiantly. Your arms cross over your chest, willing him to understand just how great he is and how admired he seemed by everyone you talked to that day. You’d gone back and socialized a bit more after Joel’s visit with you in his office, and you’d learned a little bit more about what Joel is like as a friend, a coworker, a boss. Most of their stories conclude for you that sure, Joel can be very grumpy in the wrong situation, but at the core of all of it, he cares deeply. 

“Here we are,” he says, pulling the car up to the side of the road and veering off onto a less defined patch of road. Joel drives for just a little longer until he pulls up to a grassy hillside, parking the car. You two are the only ones here, and the stars are starting to twinkle overhead as you gaze out the top of the windshield. 

“Wh- what is this?” you ask. 

“Used to come ‘round here all the time when we were younger. It’s the perfect spot for fireworks, trust me,” he tells you. You’re glad it’s just the two of you here after the long day you spent wanting to be in his arms. Joel seems to share the same sentiment, unbuckling his seatbelt and leaning over the console to you and wrapping his hand around the side of your face, crashing his lips into yours. 

He opens the bed of his truck for you two to sit in and wait for fireworks to start. He props a few pillows along the back of the truck and lays a blanket out to sit on before you climb in behind him and settle in. 

“So you’d come here as a kid? You really have lived around here your whole life, huh?” you ask him. 

“Yeah, Tommy and I’d go crazy on the sparklers right over there,” he says, his eyes staring off distantly as he recalls memories. “One of the only times my parents didn’t fight, weirdly,” he adds, and your eyes widen before you control your expression, your interest piqued at his talk of the past. 

“Your parents didn’t get along?”

“Nope, not a lick of good blood between them by the end of it all,” Joel replies with a shake of his head. “She’s remarried now, though, for a long time and it's goin’ real well for her now.”

“Your dad… instigated the fights?” you ask hesitantly.

Joel nods. “Mhm. Mean guy, real tough, didn’t know what to do with himself so he’d take it out on all of us. Yellin’, fightin’… Only hit my mom once, and that when she had enough. Thankfully…”

“Wow… that must have been terrible. I’m so sorry, Joel,” you say quietly, snuggling up next to him to show your support. He lifts an arm and puts it around you, and you tuck yourself into your favorite spot under his shoulder, rubbing circles on his chest with the palm of your hand. 

“Thanks, sweetheart. Wasn’t always easy, but Tommy and I, we tried to take care of things for our mom. He and I get our fightin’ with each other from our dad, and we fuckin’ hate it,” he chuckles, and you feel one side of your lips turn up in a smile. 

“Seems like you guys have a good relationship, though, most of the time, right?”

“Yeah, we do. Couldn’t run a business with just anyone,” he replies. You nod in agreement, and dare to ask the question on your mind. 

“Your dad? What… er, do you still see him?”

“Used to for a while. He died about 4 years ago, though. Drank too much, didn’t take care of himself, the works,” Joel replies solemnly, still staring off into the darkness. 

“Jeez, that’s just… awful. I’m sorry, again, Joel. I know I keep saying it, but there’s not much else to encompass something like that, y’know?” you say, blinking hard and shaking your head. 

“Oh I know, darlin’, thanks for just listenin’ to me. You’re a good listener,” he replies, now pulling his eyes off their unfocused stare to look down at you and smile. 

“You’re welcome. I love hearing more about you, so it’s easy.”

“Alright, your turn,” Joel says playfully, nudging you. 

“My turn what?” you ask, laughing a little. 

“What’s the deal with your life story?” Joel says openly, looking at you with expectation.

“My life story? Jesus Joel, can’t we get a focused topic?” you reply with sass. 

“Alright, fair point. Your parents seem like good people, doesn’t seem to be much of a story there, but correct me if I’m wrong?”

“No, not really, actually,” you ponder with a chuckle. “They’re very cute and in love most of the time so it kind of gave me this expectation that I’d meet someone and have that same thing super young like they did. But it just hasn’t happened like that.”

“Hasn’t happened, but you wanted it to? Marry someone young?” Joel questions you with a quirked brow.

“Nah, I’m glad I wasn't married in my early twenties like them, after all. I just assumed as a kid that’s how it would be because of them, but honestly I’m glad to have just been able to go to school and everything, get my life sorted out a bit.”

“Makes sense. And personally I’m very glad you weren’t already snatched up and married to some guy,” Joel says lightheartedly, poking you in the side and prompting you to laugh. 

“Promise I won’t get jealous, but tell me about the other guys you’ve seen,” Joel says a moment later, and you shoot him a skeptical look. “Alright, I’ll try not to get jealous,” he adds on, a more realistic proposition.

“I don’t think there’s really much to tell…” You think for a moment, piecing together your memories into a cohesive story. “I saw someone for a few months in college, he cheated on me, so I swore off dating for a while before meeting Will, and he was nice but it didn’t last. A few random hookups followed that, and that’s really it. Nothing… excited me enough to stick it out,” you conclude, then look up at Joel, seeing his eyes intently looking into yours. “Until you,” you add timidly, but not shying your gaze away. 

“Until me, huh?” Joel says cockily, tilting his head. “These other guys… what was wrong with ‘em that wasn’t exciting?”

“I don’t know, it was a decent connection, but I never knew the depths of what I really wanted until you showed me. That sounds fucking corny, but whatever. You taught me a lot of stuff,” you admit, your cheeks burning a little bit. 

“I like teachin’ you what you like, baby,” Joel says, leaning dangerously close to you now, his lips looking so inviting. “My good girl, learned so fast, didn’t you?” he teases. You arch your hips up a little, responding to his words and nod. 

“Nobody else called me that before,” you breathe out as your lips brush each other’s. “Or fucked me like you do. Didn’t make me come until I want to cry, or make me a begging slut for them. Only you, Joel, only you could do that to me,” you rasp, your hips completely turned towards him now, pressing yourself into his thigh. His smirk is downright devious as he soaks in the words you’re saying and feels you grinding against him slightly. 

“Think you’ve earned something from me for sayin’ all that, sweet girl,” he says, his tone dropping slightly with suggestion. You raise your eyebrows at him with a grin.

“You think so?” you ask brightly, eyes already glazing over with desire.

“Boostin’ my ego like that, least I could do,” he says, teasing you before shifting himself to straddle your hips. Your body immediately responds to the closeness of him, your hips adjusting and grinding up into his weight. Joel’s lips find yours and it only takes moments before he turns more feral, your tongues sliding against each other, lips clashing and sucking on one another’s in a hungry heat. Joel takes your neck against his lips and kisses it, his tongue flicking along the skin and sending you moaning. He threatens to suck the skin and leave another mark, but he stops suddenly.

“I’ll show a little mercy tonight,” he says, glancing at you with a wink. 

“No, only in that one spot, that’s it,” you breathe out desperately, chest already heaving from the passion of the moment.

“Don’t want any mercy, huh?” He starts grinning in the greedy way he does when he likes what he’s hearing from you. You shake your head, ready for whatever he’s going to throw your way in the bed of his truck. This will definitely be a first for you. “Naughty girl…” he murmurs before continuing to give the skin on your neck attention, ghosting his lips down to your collarbone and upper chest, but finding your clothing in the way, he slides your zip up off your shoulders and you help him shrug you out of it before he tugs at the bottom of your shirt and pulls that over your head as well. You settle down further onto the makeshift bed Joel made for you two, laying more flat on your back now against the pillow.

Joel takes in your half naked body for a few extra moments with a glint in his eye before diving back in, biting your skin and leaving you practically breathless as the small sucks and bites pepper over your skin, getting closer to your breasts. When he finally reaches your nipple, you’re already feeling so much anticipation that the moan you let slip out is louder than you’d have expected. Joel’s groan against your skin in response only urges you on, loving the way he loves hearing what he does to you.

He then bites onto your nipple hard, a completely new sensation for you, and you yelp a little bit but it trails off into another moan as the pain quickly turns into pleasure.

“Said you wanted no mercy, so what’ll it be, hm?” Joel counters, seeing how you’d tensed and yelled out at his biting.

“No, no, it’s good - more, Joel,” you hastily breathe, toes curled and body tense.

He pauses with his mouth above your breast, looking at you expectantly.

“Please,” you add on as a whisper, recalling what seems like one of his favorite rules. The smirk returns to his face and he slides a hand along your thigh, edging close to the apex as he bites again on your nipple. You cry out, your hips desperately pushing towards his hand, willing it to go where you need it to be. The heat swelling up in your core and between your legs is starting to reach the needy category when he continues working on both of your nipples, flicking and biting them for what feels like ages, getting you to a fever pitch of need before his fingers finally clutch onto the edges of your shorts, tugging them down. He has to lift his head off of you, and you breathe a small sigh of contented relief, your body needing the cooldown for a moment as he works your shorts off of you.

“You always wear all this stuff just for me, sweet girl?” Joel asks, bemused, as he gazes at your underwear - a pretty dark purple sheer thong.

“Of course,” you reply, breath hitching as his fingers play under the side straps of it, tempting you. “I know you like it, seeing me dress up for you,” you say with a small smile.

“That I do baby, knowin’ our little secret - you always wearin’ your little outfits just for me,” he says with a quiet tut, sliding the thong down your legs now and revealing your sex to him. It’s dark, but Joel can still see well enough to notice just how wet and swollen you already are for him, as usual. He groans as he slides two fingers inside of you, testing just how ready you are for him and feeling the warm, tightness of your cunt around his digits. 

“Fuckin’ never could get old, darlin’, this pretty little pussy of yours,” he pushes out, his voice wavering slightly with need. You simply moan quietly in response and he slides his fingers in and out a few times before holding them up and seeing your slickness coating his fingers. A fully cunning little smile pulls at his lips before touching his fingers to your lips, pressing you to taste yourself on his digits.

“Don’t make me ask,” he warns you, and you’re half tempted to ignore him to get one of his special punishments that you love, but you decide to drive him crazy by pulling the fingers deep into your mouth, sucking and swirling your tongue around it. Your eyes are locked on each other’s, and his grin only deepens into something primal as he feels your warm mouth surround his fingers, lapping up every bit of your own wetness from them. He pulls them out with a slight pop and looks at you intently.

“Your turn,” he says suddenly, a look of expectation crossing his face.

“W-what do you mean?” you ask timidly, your body trembling slightly with the anticipation of Joel’s next touch.

“I wanna taste you,” he states plainly, and you wrinkle your brow, slightly confused.

“You could do that, easily. Put your mouth down there,” you suggest with raised eyebrows, and he gives a suggestive chuckle in response, then shakes his head slowly.

“No, sweetheart. Not until you do as I ask, and I know you want my mouth on that gorgeous little pussy, so I suggest you do it. Feed me with your fingers.”

Your mouth gapes slightly open for a moment before you bite your lip. You slowly trail your hand down your stomach, Joel’s eyes watching every torturous inch it moves, and you hesitantly dip your hand between your legs, finding your opening. Christ, you’re insanely wet. Not that it’s anything new, every second you spend around this man seems to put you in the craziest state of arousal, but it still surprises you sometimes just how little he has to do to get you to be a weeping, sloppy mess for him.

“Go on,” he says sternly, watching your fingers pause. You continue, sliding a finger inside of yourself, your hips moving slightly into the sensation. Joel lets out a small grunt of appreciation as he watches you slowly finger yourself. You lift your now slick finger out from between your legs, offering it up to him, and he grabs your wrist zealously, guiding your finger to his lips. He slowly sucks in on your finger, savoring every second as his eyes shadow with desire while they look deep into yours. You inhale softly, the feeling of his mouth on your finger so intense right now with how turned on you are. Joel doesn’t seem to be getting enough, because he swipes two of his fingers through your folds before pumping them hard into your cunt and bringing them to his own mouth, adding them in along with your finger. He pulls his head back, eyes rolling slightly, dragging his tongue along your and his finger before pulling them all out.

“Fuck, can’t get enough,” he sighs, lightly lapping at the pad of your finger as he still holds your wrist. You’re squirming, your hips moving uncomfortably with the desire steadily building in between your thighs. “You want me to stick my tongue inside of you, sweet girl, hm? Play with your little clit until you’re moanin’?” he says teasingly. You nod, a small whimper coming out of your mouth at his proposition, desperate for him to do what he’s saying now.

“You’ve been good,” he says, hand now stroking your thigh. “Now keep it up, put your hands on the side of the truck over there for me,” he commands, and you blink for a moment before scrambling up, moving over enough to get to the side of the truck. You grip the frame with your hands, standing on the truck bed with your ass protruding while awaiting Joel’s next move. He scoots over to you, nudging your legs further apart with his hands as he grabs at your ass, smirking to himself. He lowers his body, getting on his knees so that his face is behind you, immediately putting it between your legs and licking a strip down your pussy, landing a soft flick over your clit. 

“F-fuck,” you stammer out immediately with a stifled moan, your hips spasming down into his mouth.

“Oh, pretty girl, can’t have you get too excited yet, need to taste you till I’m satisfied,” Joel says, moving his mouth off of you briefly. You try to quiet down so he’ll keep going, and he dives back in between your legs, feasting on you from behind. You groan out in pleasure as his tongue pushes inside of you and coats itself with your arousal, Joel making a satisfied noise at the taste of you. 

You’re in absolute ecstasy, Joel’s teasing having taken way longer than you’d bargained for before finally getting some relief as he flicks your clit a few times with his tongue. He surprises you a moment later by sucking on it, and you inhale sharply at the sensation, breathing out an affirmation for him that it feels good.

His mouth hooks on tighter, the sucking harder than you’d ever experienced him doing, and it’s too much, it’s so intense that your knees wobble a little bit. You let out a faltering moan, your body’s response somewhere bordering on pain and pleasure before falling to the latter and you push your clit a little further into his mouth. After many long seconds, he releases it, breathing heavily onto your skin.

“No showin’ you any mercy, remember?” he says, and you sigh, eyes already feeling glassy from the way he’s treating your body. You nod lazily, hips pushing back down to urge him to continue, and he snickers lightly before licking your clit and sucking again, a little harder this time. You yelp and squirm under the immense amount of pressure and pleasure building right in that spot, the warmth of his mouth unending on the bundle of nerves. 

You hear a distant noise, the sound of a car approaching your private spot, and as it gets closer, Joel’s mouth moves off of you to turn towards it but you cry out. 

“Don’t stop, don’t fucking stop, Joel,” you say breathlessly, your hands gripping harder onto the metal of the car’s frame. Joel lets out a disbelieving chuckle and laps his tongue down your slit a few times. 

“Oh yeah? Don’t care if they watch us?” he coos, speaking in between strokes of his tongue. “Watch me make you scream my name?” A long drag up your slit followed by circling your clit with his tongue. “Dirty little thing…” He sucks hard on your clit again and you moan loudly before hearing the car drive away, likely spotting whatever they hell they thought you two were doing in this private spot and driving off quickly. You breathe out a laugh amid your ecstasy, quickly focusing back on Joel’s movements. 

You hear one of his hands working his belt before he unzips his pants and you glance over your shoulder, seeing his hand go down into his jeans and grab firmly onto his cock. 

“See what you do to me?” he breathes, licking and lavishing himself in all of your wetness, now coating his beard as he quickly begins pumping his cock with his hands. He growls and spanks your ass hard, eliciting a yelp from you before his mouth is back between your legs and to your utter surprise, he nips at your clit lightly and you almost jump, your hips twitching with such a different sensation. 

“Makes me almost angry, baby, how fucking hard you get me,” he says into your cunt before biting you again, his hand steadily working on his own cock and building his own pleasure. 

“Fuck, Joel,” you cry out, your whole body shaking from what he’s doing to you. He breathes heavily, grunting as his hand moves rapidly, trying to keep his mouth on rhythm through his own hand distracting him.

He suddenly pulls his mouth off,  buries three of his fingers from the hand that was jerking himself off deep inside of you, pumping several times until you leak all over his hands and he hums in satisfaction as he brings it back down to his cock, coating himself in you inside of his jeans. Mere moments later you hear a small whimper and a few expletives pass through his lips, still on your pussy, and he breathes out loudly. 

“Look at you, makin’ me come like a schoolboy in my jeans, baby,” he mutters. 

You hear a burst of sound and see a flash of light through your closed eyelids - the fireworks are starting, but they can wait. You can feel your climax so close, it feels like you’re practically reaching for it, your fingertips grazing the unbridled pleasure coming your way. 

“Fuckin’ come for me now, sweet girl, I wanna feel you soak my fuckin’ face, baby,” he groans out, the movements of his tongue becoming more frantic on you. You moan loudly, bouncing your hips back into him as he steadily works on your clit, placing sweet, toe curling bites on it every so often. You can’t believe it’s even possible for that to feel good, but it fucking does. The sound of the fireworks starts to drown out your moans, encouraging you to be even louder, crying Joel’s name. 

One last perfect circle of Joel’s tongue sends you shattering, your pulsing, aching clit shoved further into his mouth as he starts sucking hard while you spasm your hips. The pleasure is causing your knees to buckle, and Joel grabs your ass with both hands, squeezing each ass cheek tightly as he holds you up and steady as you continue to be hit by wave after wave of warm, tingling pleasure. You’re loud, maybe louder than you’ve ever been with Joel, not worrying about parents or neighbors or anyone hearing you two as you scream his name above the crackle and pop of fireworks. 

You breathe out a long exhale, your hips relaxing along with your hands on the side of the truck and steady your shaking knees. You settle down onto your legs when Joel pulls his face away from your thighs and you collapse your front against the truck, glancing at the sky to see gorgeous lights dancing above you two in several spots. This little viewpoint Joel chose offers a look at fireworks shows from several different nearby towns, all going at the same time. It’s beautiful, and you’ve never seen more than one fireworks show at once, so it’s fun to see the sparkling patterns in the distance as well, lighting up the whole sky. Joel tucks his body against yours, wrapping his arms around the front of your chest and dragging you down onto the blanket with him, holding you so you two can watch the sky together. You let out a small shiver, still completely naked, and Joel holds you tighter, tucking one of the blankets up around you now. He kisses the side of your face up and down as you keep your eyes on the fireworks, a small smile dancing across your face while his lips tickle and leave a tingling sensation over your skin. 

“Joel…” you say quietly, and turn to look in his eyes, your lips parted with your next words right on your tongue. 

“I know…” Joel says, not allowing you to say what he thinks might come out of your mouth. You stop short, unsure of why you were even going to say those words in the first place. You don’t love Joel, do you? It’s just that post orgasm feeling, that little bliss that lives inside you for a while afterwards that makes the person who gave it to you glow a little brighter for the moment. That’s not love, that’s… something else. You’re almost glad he didn’t let you embarrass yourself by letting it slip from your mouth.

“Me too,” he adds after a few silent moments, uncharacteristically timid, and your eyes widen, unsure if he’s saying what you think he is. You close your lips, pressing them together and give him a slight dip of your head, understanding he can’t go there right now. Instead, you turn your face a bit more and lean forward to kiss him softly. He reciprocates it immediately, a hand grazing your cheek as he holds your face to his tenderly. A radiant spark ignites in your chest when he touches you like this, so sweetly, like you’re only his to hold and also his to break. It makes you worship him  and fear him all at once, knowing he’s always going to be your undoing one way or the other.

Maybe this is love, you silently wonder to yourself. If it isn’t love, then how could anything else ever be?

taglist: @paleidiot​ @mumma-moonchild​ @soph55​

#fic: closer #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x you #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader

[jarofstyles]

FICTOBER DAY 7- I Wish This Could Last Forever

Fictober Prompts/Masterlist

Patreon

Ouchies... I got in my feelings

WC- 800

Warnings- mention of death/dying, vampires, blood etc

----

Harry watched the human sleeping in his arms, his chest feeling like it could disintegrate any moment. 

If his heart could still beat, he would be worried about it breaking. 

He knew he had to leave someday. He knew that this warm bundle of sweet, soft human would begin to age and question why he didn’t. The longer they spent together, the easier to spot his quirks. The closer they got, the more she would notice, the more that she would begin to bond to him. The sips he took from her were enough to sustain him, but for how long? How long could he go without a proper feed?

He knew his intentions were selfish. He had never had a problem being a selfish creature for all two hundred and forty years that his feet had been walking around the earth, and yet.. A silly, simply little human had tilted his world on its axis. Her soft breathing puffing against his neck making him bound to the moment, her fists curled around his shirt as her leg was tangled in his own. Trusting him, this monster of a creature, with her safety. Her body. Her blood. Something in her told her to go against instinct, if she even had any, and hand herself over to the very thing she should be running away from. 

The mere thought of her running away from him in terror ripped him apart. 

He had been biding his time for a while, and knew that he wasn’t quite ready to say goodbye. His own throat welled up in a lump at the idea of her hating him for all her life once he left her, leaving a note explaining that their time had been fun but he had to move on or move for a business trip. He’d have to make her hate him, because this tenacious little human would scour the earth to find him. 

Her fiery ways despite her soft demeanor always brought a smile to his face. When she was determined to have something, to see something, she would do it. Sometimes she unknowingly put herself in danger and he had to wonder how she had managed to get on without him before- and it twinged his stomach. How would she get on without him?

His thoughts always turned to her deserving better. If she wanted children, the picket fence, the dogs, the familial dream that everyone spoke about. He could never provide that. The most he could do was be a decent partner, at least trying his very best now despite their undefined relationship. It was clear there was love between them.

Just how much, though, Harry kept under wraps. 

How could he let her know that he counted her breaths when she slept? How he hurt every time he thought about having to move from this place and exist without her? How she had become such a staple in his daily life, that he couldn’t go to the store without thinking about what she would like or scoff at. She had somehow, some way, engrained herself in his very being without his permission. Oddly enough? He felt okay with it. 

He’s had entanglements with humans before. He drank from them when they were in the midst of orgasm, taking what he could without harming, and moved on before the sun rose to try and find someone else. Being a creature like him, sex and blood were the mainstays of the life he was unliving. Y/N had been a one nighter that he couldn’t drag himself away from. They’d met unconventionally, something off his normal routine and had taken him off guard. Somehow it had turned into this. 

Cradling her warm body to his own, the thick blankets on his bed covering them up as he ran his fingers over her back. The city noises and her breathing were a background for the steady heartbeat, only wobbling when he shifted and she clung back to him. His own personal slice of heaven, having her seek him out when he was living in a monotonous hell. Every day had been so black and white before his little human had shattered the glass and threw color on every surface. 

She would always be his favorite memory, his biggest love, and his hardest regret. 

“I wish this could last forever.” His voice was too quiet even for her to hear, kissing over the top of her head a few times. “I would keep you for longer than that.”

#jarofstyles fictober 2023 #jarofstyles fictober #harry styles vampire #vampire!harry #vampire harry styles #vampire harry #vampirry #angst #harry styles angst #Harry styles fluff #Harry styles au #Harry styles supernatural #jarofstyles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfic #harry styles smut #harry writing #harry styles imagine #harry drabble #harry styles blurb #harry styles writing #harry styles fic #Harry styles fictober

[braidlottie]

snow angel.

pairing: adult!lottieshauna x gn!reader

fluffmas/kinkmas masterlist

summary: your girlfriends surprise with a ski trip to the mountains this year.

tags: lots and LOTS of fluff >_< too much probably, ski trip, lottie spoiling you and shauna, cuddling, lottieshauna Cuddle sandwich!! :33

word count: 1414

lottie is the bold and shauna is the italic

“hi honey, i made breakfast.” lottie smiled at you walking downstairs in your pjs, rubbing your eyes. “smells good.” you yawned. “it’s your favorite too,” shauna petted your head, putting a plate of pancakes in front of you.

the three of you sat in silence at the dinner table, enjoying your food, when shauna broke the silence. “i was thinking,” she took a sip of her orange juice. “we go out this weekend. y’know, like, have a little vacation. just the three of us.” she smiled. you immediately perked up because you have been absolutely begging your girlfriends for a ski trip recently.

“i think that would be just wonderful.” lottie smiled back, wiping away her mouth with a napkin. the older women looked to you now, waiting for you to say something. it was like they were in on something that you didn’t know yet.

“oh, yeah. i would love to go out with you guys.” you muttered, mouth full of pancake. lottie and shauna shared a look before she squealed. “okay, i can’t hide this from you any longer. lottie booked us a trip to a nice ski resort in the mountains upstate.”

“what?!” you shot out of your seat, your cup off juice almost spilling off the table. “we know how much you’ve been wanting to go, darling. and plus, it’s the perfect time of year.”

you were so happy, instantly running to hug lottie and shauna. “when do we leave?”

“tomorrow, so you should get to packing later. we’ll spend three days there, and we’ll be back in time for new years.” lottie grabbed the three of your empty dishes, putting them in the sink. “oh, and i’m taking you to the mall later. we have to get you some appropriate attire for the snow, honey.” new jersey winters were pretty harsh, but you’re going to the mountains. obviously you’re gonna need a coat or two.

***

the three of you left very early the next morning, piling your suitcases into the trunk of lottie’s car. it was still dark out, and you couldn’t stop yawning. you looked down at your phone. 4:36 AM. you sighed. lottie was all about being early.

you sat in the backseat of the SUV with shauna sitting in the passenger and lottie driving. “is everyone excited?” lottie tried to get the party going, turning on the engine and the heat. the car chimed as she pulled out of the driveway and onto the main road. you heard a “yes” from shauna, and you were about to reply as well, but a yawn cut you off.

“why don’t you take a little nap on the way there, darling?” lottie looked at you through the rear view mirror, sleepily rubbing your eyes while looking out the window at all the christmas lights. “how long will it take to get there?”

“four hours, maybe a little less.”

you huffed. “we’ll be there in no time, and it’ll be even faster if you sleep a little, baby.” shauna turned around in her seat to look at you. “and think about it. you’ll need some energy for all the fun things we’re gonna do when we get there.”

finally giving in, you nodded, getting in a comfortable position before closing your eyes.

***

you were gently shaken away by lottie, the car parked in a lot with lots of people and families around in the snow. shauna was already out of the car, getting all the luggage out the trunk. “did you have a nice nap?” she smiled at your sleepy little face, unbuckling your seatbelt as you stretched. she let you get out of the car, helping you into one of your new puffer jackets.

you whined in protest when she zipped you up. “you’ve got to bundle up, angel.” she slipped your beanie over your head, making sure your ears were covered. “but, it’s not even that cold out.”

“hush, hush, go help shauna with the bags.” she hurried, locking the car up.

the resort lottie had booked was beautiful, you weren’t even in your room yet and everything just felt so cozy. before you knew it, lottie checked in with the woman at the front desk and she gave her your room key. it only took a short elevator ride to get to the third floor where your room was. shauna slid the card in and the light turned green, letting you open the door to come inside.

there was a huge flatscreen tv on the wall, a fireplace right below it. to the left of it was a glass patio door, that led onto a balcony. the view was absolutely breathtaking, it was like something out of a movie. there was a little kitchen and even a little mini bar. you walked into the bedroom, finding a little basket on the bed with refreshments and snacks and a note from the restore saying “Welcome!” in cursive with yours, lottie’s, and shauna’s last names. you swore the bathroom was three times bigger than yours at home, the walk-in shower taking up half the room.

“how much did all of this cost?” shauna exclaimed, already reading off the mini bar’s menu. “let’s not worry about that honey, we’ve got ski lessons to be at. in thirty minutes!” she looked at her watch with wide eyes. you and shauna just giggled to yourselves, watching her scramble around the room for her things.

***

lottie rented skis and helmets for all of you, and a pair of snow goggles that she caught you staring at and couldn’t let you go without them. the instructor was very nice, teaching you how to stop and slow down. after a good hour and a half or so of lessons, it was time for your first big hill.

you looked out the window of the ski lift, admiring the snowy mountains. you were too excited, lottie and shauna smiling lovingly at you as you babbled on and on about the snow. it was so special that your first time seeing snow was with them.

the instructor only let the three of you go one at a time. you took it like a champ, lottie losing her balance and taking a few stumbles, and shauna almost ran full on into a tree. but they surprisingly left the ski track unscathed, lottie giggling uncontrollably at shauna’s attempt.

you spent the rest of the day doing other activities, like enjoying the hot tub, going to gift shops, and even going on snowmobile rides off track. lottie noticed how much you loved the rented goggles that she decided to buy you your own pair. yes, they were $70 goggles, but your happiness was more valuable to her.

the night ended with dinner in a very decorative restaurant, the inside felt like you were eating in a cabin. you sat in a booth with your girlfriends, getting a a wonderful view of the ski tracks, watching people trick off the hills and hop back on the lift.

when you got back to your room, it was nearing 10pm, and you were so exhausted from everything you did today. but you still wanted to sit by the window and watch the snow fall. it was like you were in a trance, cherishing every little snowflake that blew in the wind. you heard your girlfriends muttering something behind you in bed, how adorable your reaction was. you looked back at them and smiled, eventually getting up to join them.

“did you have fun today, baby?” lottie asked, getting you tucked under the covers with them. you laid sandwiched in the middle, your head resting on shauna’s chest as you nodded and yawned.

“goodness, honey, if i had a nickel for every single time you’ve yawned today, i’d be rich.” shauna teased, and lottie chuckled in reply. you just hummed, turning to face lottie now, getting a kiss on the nose from her. “you’re so warm. you’re like a little oven.” she scooted closer, wrapping her arms around you and shauna. “we might not even need the fireplace tonight.”

you were so content and warm, the soft, hushed voices of your girlfriends lulling you to sleep. “thank you so much for this. love you.” you slurred, pretty much out of it. “we love you too, angel. get some rest, okay?” lottie smiled, soothing you to sleep by rubbing your cheek. you knocked out quick, your girlfriends admiring your peaceful state before falling asleep themselves.

#yellowjackets #yellowjackets x reader #lottie x shauna #adult lottie #adult shauna #lottieshauna x reader #lottie shauna x reader #lottieshauna #lottie matthews x reader #lottie matthews #shauna shipman #shauna shipman x reader #shauna sadecki #shauna sadecki x reader #shauna yellowjackets #lottie yellowjackets #lottie matthews fluff #shauna shipman fluff #finalgirlmeeks fluffmas/kinkmas ‘23!

[2jaeh]

first snow | haechan

your mischievous boyfriend wakes you up to enjoy the first snow of year

genre: fluff

content: gender neutral!reader, established relationship, boyfriend!haechan

word count: 611

- lin

christmas fic masterlist (2022)

"Hello? Good morning? Excuse me? Good morning!" 

Your eyes were closed, your body warm and bundled under three layers of blankets. You were having a good dream, relaxing on the balcony of your luxury apartment, sipping a mug of coffee as you watched the bustling city beneath you. You were alone, but your boyfriend's voice nagged from behind you. And he wouldn't stop. He kept talking and talking and talking…

You jolted up in your bed, your eyes shooting open when something wet and icy cold made contact with your face. In your delirious state you turned your head to see Haechan standing at the side of your bed, still dressed in his sleepwear but his thick thermal jacket was draped over his shoulders. His guilty hands were outstretched, his palms damp and flushed a light red colour. 

"Hyuck… What the…" You barely managed to get out a single sentence, your morning voice hoarse and groggy.

"I did have a snowball to smash on your face, but it melted as soon as I got back into the house." Haechan grinned mischievously, wiping his hands dry on his pants.

You rubbed your eyes tiredly, yawning until you fully grasped what your menace of a boyfriend had just said to you. You were now fully awake and glaring at him.

"Excuse me what!?"

"It's snowing babe!" Haechan exclaimed, completely ignoring your clear annoyance, "if you'd just woken up when I tried earlier then I wouldn't have to go to such drastic measures."

"Well apologies for not waking up at six in the morning." You rolled your eyes, throwing yourself back in the bed and pulling the blanket up to your chin.

"Come ooon!!" Haechan whined, laying himself on top of you and wrestling you out of the blankets.

"Please let me sleep!" You begged playfully, managing to get him into a headlock as he tapped out frantically.

"Okay, okay, now that you're awake enough to beat me up, can we go outside?" Haechan laid on your lap pathetically, his doe eyes pleading.

"Fineee." You sighed, beckoning him off your lap as you got out of the bed.

Once you stepped outside, you were met with a gush of cold air and the fresh smell of morning dew. It was the first snow of the holiday season and Haechan was already standing ankle deep in it. You stood safely on the concrete pathway leading to your apartment building while Haechan excitedly trudged through the snow. You couldn't help the smile that adorned your face as you watched him cup some snow into his hands, moulding it into a small ball. The smile dropped from your face the minute he turned around, his expression telling you exactly what he was plotting.

You immediately darted in the opposite direction, ducking behind a tree and scooping up some snow to defend yourself. Haechan's mischievous laughter filled your ears as he raced towards you, slamming the snowball onto your head. You shrieked at the sensation before smashing your own snowball into his face in retaliation.

"Oh you're gonna pay for that one!" Haechan yelled as he grabbed hold of you, initiating the second wrestling match of the day.

You tried to wriggle out of his grip, but eventually you both tripped over each other's legs, falling flat onto the soft, snow covered ground beneath you.

"So much for payback, you almost broke your ass." You spoke through your laughter, nevertheless holding him in your arms as he winced in pain.

"And it's all your fault, I need a kiss to feel better." Haechan mumbled, a pout on his face.

"You want me to kiss your ass?"

"Oh God, shut up!"

#haechan #lee donghyuck #haechan fluff #haechan imagines #haechan scenarios #nct haechan #haechan x reader #nct #nct 127 #nct dream #nct dream imagines #nct dream scenarios #nct dream fluff #nct dream au #nct 127 fluff #nct 127 drabble #nct 127 imagines #nct 127 scenarios

[live-love-be-unique]

Admiring from afar

Summary: an early morning gym session between friends means nothing, doesn’t it?.

Parings: Kyle ‘Gaz’ Garrick x f reader

Warnings: none.

When you agreed to join Gaz in the gym, you hadn’t counted on him suggesting a 4am session. You wouldn’t normally be awake this early for gym but he’d eventually convinced you; well maybe it was his pretty eyes and his megawatt smile that had actually convinced you; so there you were, bundled up in your car with the heating on waiting for Gaz to show.

As you sipped the overpriced coffee you had treated yourself to you hear the rumble of Gaz’s motorcycle “Didn’t think you would show” Gaz chuckles as he climbs off his bike.

“Almost didn’t” you joke “still considering turning around and going back to bed” He laughed as you trailed behind him, smiling as a thank you when he swung open the door for you to enter.

Thankfully you found the small gym almost empty as you worked through your stretches and set up the treadmill for your warmup. Gaz wandered off close by towards the barbells.

Headphones on you started your run. Gaz was right, exercise did clear your mind, you thought as you warmed up. Hearing the barbell hit the ground you turn only to be met with the sight of a shirtless Gaz. He was wiping his face with a towel, and you were very thankful he hadn’t seen the immediate blush covering your face.

Damn him for being so hot.

Quickly shutting down the machine before you tripped over your own feet you step over to pick up some dumbbells, trying very hard to focus on your movements and not the movements of the muscles of Gaz’s body.

Glancing over at you, Gaz watched for a while, almost critiquing your form, he moved behind you to guide your movements, his hands against your waist causing your stomach to flip. Soft praises of “that’s it” and “atta girl” fell from his lips as he helped to correct your movements. To say you were embarrassed at your reaction was an understatement, Gaz was a teammate and a friend, a very good friend…

But the little smirk and the wandering hands on your waist that slowly snuck lower and lower had you questioning that perhaps he felt the same.

Gaz’s pov

Watching the mirror, to anyone else would have looked like you were watching your form, when in reality you were watching her, the way she stretched causing your brain to short circuit and you dropped the barbell, just missing your feet in the process.

Running your towel over your face in an attempt to cool down. Although it was in vain as you realized she had moved closer, grabbing a set or dumbbells nearby.

You couldn’t help it, watching her as she moved, the slow methodical pace she set as she went. And you really couldn’t help it as you moved towards her. Placing your hands on her waist, reveling in the feeling of her soft skin underneath your fingertips and hearing the sharp intake of her breath.

Surely she couldn’t feel the same way could she?

#cod gaz #gaz garrick #gaz x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader

[fakesmilesallaround]

𝐨𝐧𝐞

"COME ON, LOVE. WORK WITH ME HERE." The woman supported the little bundle against her chest as she barreled down the four lane street, her other hand clenched tightly around her Bowie knife. The little one continued to cry, alerting any of the risen within multiple blocks. With some already hot on their tracks, the woman continued to push forward, her eyes darting to every building she passes, sizing them up and down in search of a temporary safe haven. Though, with the screams and cries of the baby, she knew she needed to go further than her legs could let her to find somewhere to rest comfortably.

The city of Atlanta has never looked so dead. Rusted and broken down cars spread for miles along every road that twisted and turned through the city. Though the city and life as everyone knew it was dead and doomed, nature was thriving. Various flowers, weeds, and trees grew, cracking and slipping through cracks of cement and asphalt.

The world has gone quiet, almost as if it had stopped turning.

The baby let out another cry as the woman tripped over a stray metal car door.

"Shh, it's alright." she cooed at the baby against her chest.

She slipped into a musty alley between two towering buildings, pulling a chain linked gate closed behind her. Her feet dragged towards a dumpster where she fumbled against the wall as her legs gave out. Sliding down the brick wall behind her, she sat next to the dumpster, pulling back the cloth that shielded a majority of the babies face. To her surprise, the tears were dry against the little ones face, and her eyes were wide, staring largely at the woman.

"Good girl." She smiled down at the baby. "I knew you could do it."

She set her knife down next to where she sat before pulling off her backpack, digging through it to find her canister of water. Though the buildings were tall, the sun still beat down against her skin, blistering slowly. She took a few sips before pouring some into her hand, dousing her face and her neck in it, in hopes to cool down. But not to her avail, the water was just as warm as the Georgia air.

They sat for a while, the woman listening closely to the scuffling of the dead's feet that seemed to be surpassing them. A quiet sigh of relief slipped through her lips, only to be sucked back in at loud gunshots that seemed to only be getting closer, soon followed by loud pattering that was heading towards the gate in which she came from. Out of instinct, she covered the a bit more and quickly fumbled for her knife as the gate flew open. A boy about a few years younger than her held the gate open for another man to follow behind, a bit older than the both of them.

"Come on, back here!" The younger boy yelled at the man.

They swung the gate shut, but at the sight of how many risers were at the gate, it most definitely wouldn't hold.

She quickly got up from her spot, and immediately found both pair of eyes on her. The younger boy halted for just a second in his tracks, his eyes full of worry, before ushering her to come along as well.

"That gate won't hold, follow me, now!" His yells echoed in the alley, and without thinking, her feet started moving at their pace to stay with them.

It was only a matter of seconds before they reached the end of the alley. The man in front of her was wearing a sheriff's uniform and had his gun out in front of him as risers started to pile in at the end of the alley, blocking the only exit.

"Let's go, let's go!" The boy screamed as he began to climb a yellow metal ladder.

The man ushered her to go up after the boy as he continued to shoot a few for of the dead before following up after them. She held her breath as she ascended the ladder as the dead were groaning and screaming beneath her. It felt like a thousand minutes to even get halfway up the ladder. Stepping off onto a metal platform, the three of them stood against the railing, catching their breaths. The woman gently bounced the baby against her chest while patting her back to prevent her from crying again.

"Nice moves there, Clint Eastwood." The young boy said to the man, still panting and looking over the railing. "You the new Sheriff? Come riding in to clean up the town?"

"It wasn't my intention." The man responded.

"Yeah, whatever, yeehaw. You're still a dumbass." The boy adjusted his red hat.

"Rick, thanks." The man stuck out his hand for the boy.

"Glenn, you're welcome." The boy shook it firmly.

Taking a last look at the dead beneath them all, Glenn urged them to keep climbing.

"The bright side: it'll be the fall that kills us." He peered up to the many more rungs that they would have to climb. "I'm a glass-half-full kinda guy."

He started climbing again, followed by the woman and Rick behind her. The climbed fast with desperation to get to the top, but too fast. Her foot slipped and her body jolted, though her hands remained firm on the rung above her.

"You okay?" Rick asked from below her.

She swallowed hard, not looking down. Heights were never her strong suit. "I'm fine. My foot slipped." She took a deep breath and continued climbing.

At the top, they hopped down to a structure that connected the roofs of two building, making their way to the other. Running along the new roof, Glenn swung open a metal latch with yet another ladder, but thankfully they would be descending it this time around.

"Back at the tank, why'd you stick your neck out for me?" Rick asked as Glenn began to climb down the latch.

"Call it foolish, naive hope that if I'm ever the far up shit creek, somebody might do the same thing for me. Guess I'm an even bigger dumbass than you."

As Glenn slowly disappeared beneath them, Rick held the latch open for the woman to follow.

"Thank you." Her voice cracked at the heaving her lungs have been doing from the running. Rick gave her a subtle nod before following after her, slamming the latch shut behind him.

They made their way through what looked like an office building, the rooms lined with many cubicles, before they were outside again, descending a few flights of stairs.

Glenn whipped a device from his pocket as his feet still pressed forward at a quick pace. "I'm back. I got some guests. Plus four geeks in the alley."

Their legs quickly stopped at the bottom few stairs as four of the dead turned towards them. Their lifeless eyes grew hungry at the sight of the three of them, and their feet began to drag against the concrete towards them. The woman held up her knife, but as she did, a metal door behind the dead swung open, two men running out and taking down the risers.

Glenn began running again towards the doorway. "Let's go!"

Rick and the woman wasted no time following him in.

The second the three get into a room, Rick was slammed backwards into a couple of boxes, a blonde woman raising a gun to his head. "You son of a bitch, we ought to kill you." She said through gritted teeth.

"Just chill out Andrea, back off." One of the men said.

"We're dead because of this stupid asshole."

The man approached her from behind. "Andrea, I said back the hell off."

Andrea stood for a few moments longer, her eyes welding with tears, before finally backing off, lowering her gun.

The woman stood there beside Glenn, both of their faces full of shock. She continued to pat her baby with one hand and hold her knife in the other, not sure if she can't trust any of these strangers just yet. Her baby let out a small noise, alerting Andrea again.

"Great, and you brought a baby too." She let out a tense laugh. "We're dead, all of us."

"I don't understand." Rick said with confusion, and in response, the man to calm Andrea grabbed him by his bicep and started walking with him, the rest of the group following behind.

"Look, we came into the city to scavenge supplies." He roughly let go of Rick, shoving him forward down a dark hallway. "You know what the key to scavenging is? Surviving! You know the key to surviving? Sneaking in and out, tiptoeing. Not shooting up the streets like it's the O.K. Corral."

As they entered what looked like a small retail store, the group faced the glass doors ahead of them. "Every geek for miles around heard you popping off rounds." Another man said.

"You just rang the dinner bell." Andrea said exhaustedly.

Everyone stood in horror as the dead were pounding on the doors, hungry and determined to storm the place to eat. A couple had bricks in their hands, slamming them repeatedly into the glass which began to spiderweb and shatter with each contact. They all began to back up as the cracking of the glass started to echo through the building.

"What the hell were y'all even doing out there anyway?" Andrea spat at the both of them, eyeing the woman first.

"I got split up from my brother a couple days back. Just trying to find him again." The woman said shyly. She felt mildly uncomfortable with sharing much with these people, but she knew the least she could do is answer when spoken to considering they saved her and her little ones lives.

"And you?" Andrea turned to Rick.

He stood firmly with his hands on his hips. "Trying to flag the helicopter."

"Helicopter?" The black man spat out. "Man that's crap, ain't no damn helicopter."

Andrea rolled her eyes.

"Hey, T-Dog, try that C.B. Can you contact the others?"

Ricks eyes darted to the man. "Others? The refugee center?"

A woman beside T-Dog responded, "Yeah, the refugee center. They've got biscuits waiting at the oven for us."

She tensed under the woman's sarcasm. With what little hope she had left in finding her brother, that was the next place she considered heading for, but now she wasn't so sure.

"Got no signal." T-Dog said angrily. "Maybe the roof."

Everyone jumped at a loud gunshot that rang through the building. Confusion grew on the woman's face at the sight of everyone before her not holding a gun. Her body was more tense now knowing there's another person she is about to meet.

Andrea stared up at the ceiling. "Oh no, is that Dixon?"

The group filed down more hallways and ascended more stairs again to get to the roof where they found, the woman assuming to be, Dixon. He stood at the ledge of the rooftop, aiming down a rifle, picking off the risers that walked the streets visibly.

"Morales, calm down." Andrea tried grabbing at the man's shirt, knowing what was about to go down.

"Hey, Dixon, are you crazy?!" Morales darted towards Dixon, who only started laughing at the distraught state the man was in.

"Hey! Y'all ought to be more polite to a man with a gun." A sick smile was on his face as he waved the rifle around.

The woman's stomach turned. She could already tell this man was reckless and dangerous. She holstered her knife and rested her hands gently over the babies ears, knowing the loud echos of the gun shots would disturb her.

"Come on man, you wasting bullets that we don't even got." T-Dog got up in Dixon's face as he stepped down from the ledge.

"I don't take no orders from your kind of people." Dixon spat at him.

T-Dog stepped up more to him, shoving him further and further back. Finally, Dixon had enough shoving and wanted blood. He turned his rifle and nailed T-Dog in the face with the butt of it. Rick quickly pushed past everyone, trying to deescalate the situation, only earning him a punch to the face by Dixon as well.

Rick flew to the ground, anger in his eyes before getting back up again.

Dixon had T-Dog on the ground, kicking him mercilessly before pulling a pistol out and aiming it right between his eyes. T-Dog cowered along with everyone else in the group that watched everything unfold.

"Yeah. Alright," Dixon yelled, spitting on T-Dog and standing back up, holding the pistol out. "We're gonna have ourselves a little powwow, huh? Talk about who's in charge. I vote me. Anybody else?" He looked around at the bystanders who looked back at him in fear. A few of them raised their hands slowly, scared about the dangerous man with the gun.

He smirked. "That means I'm the boss right? Yeah. Anybody else?"

"Yeah." Rick grumbled from behind Dixon. As the man turned around, his own rifle was smacking into his face, his body falling to the rooftop ground. Everyone watched in satisfaction as Rick cuffed Dixon's hand to a metal piped, grabbing him by the front of his jacket to sit him up.

"Who the hell are you man?" Dixon said through gritted teeth.

"Officer friendly. Look here, Merle. Things are different now." Rick picked up the pistol Merle once had and unloaded it. There's only dark meat and white meat now. There's us and the dead. We survive this by pulling together."

Merle's face was full of anger as Rick talked to him like a child. "Screw you man."

Rick chuckled unenthusiastically. "I can see you make a habit of missing the point."

"Yeah?" Merle responded, inching closer into Rick's face. "Well, screw you twice."

Suddenly, the pistol was up to Merle's temple. "Ought to be polite to a man with a gun." Rick said, using his own words against him. "Only common sense."

The woman looked beside her at Glenn who still looked horrified at what's going down. "Is he always like this?"

Glenn nodded. "Believe it or not, this isn't even the worst of it."

The woman approached T-Dog along with Andrea, Glenn, not taking her eyes off of Rick or Merle. Leaning down, still supporting her baby's head, she eyed over his wounds. "You alright?"

T-Dog glanced at her for a second. "Yeah." He sat up and spit out some blood that had been lingering in his mouth. "Not the first time some white trash started some shit."

She stood back up and let Andrea and Glenn take care of him as she continued to watch Rick and Merle. Rick had stepped towards the edge of the roof, tossing something over it as Merle screamed behind him.

"Hey! What are you doing man? That's my stuff!" Merle tugged at the handcuffs. "If I get loose, you better pray, you hear me you pig?!"

"Yeah, your voice carries." Rick said as he stood at the far end of the rooftop.

The woman approached his side, looking over the city with him. "You're not Atlanta P.D. Where are you from?"

"Up the road a ways." He finally turned to her.

"Well, officer friendly from up the road a ways, welcome to the big city." She took another glance out over the city before she turned, heading back to the others, though she stopped at Rick's comment.

"I didn't catch your name."

"That's right, you didn't." She turned back around towards him.

"I'm Willow."

-

Word count: 2,542

#daryl dixon #fanfic #norman reedus #the walking dead #wattpad #twd fanfiction #daryl dixon x oc #daryl dixon fanfiction

[captain-mj]

SPOILS OF WAR??? WHERE IS MY BELOVED WHEN WILL IT RETURN FROM THE WAR??? Give me spoils of war or you'll never see your teeth again.

@hirik0

Sorry for taking so long :(

Two days after the end of their trip, Soap went through some of the goods they were sent with. Mostly food, but he noticed that there was a bundle of clothing too. He rooted through and noticed all of it was… sheer. Lots of loose fabrics.

Valeria must’ve sent them, but he didn’t know why. 

Soap immediately tried some of them on. The top only came right under his pecs and had large sleeves that hung down. The bottoms were just sheer, loose pants with a extra little covering for his crotch. He flushed and hugged himself a little in front of the mirror. Why would Ghost have these?

Speak of the fucking devil. Ghost appeared and stared. Wide eyed and flustered. He didn’t have his mask on so Soap got to see just how red he could get. 

“Where are these from?”

“My old clothes.” Ghost whispered. 

Soap put things together fast and flushed, about to apologize but Ghost was looking him up and down like he was a meal. “Like me in this?”

“Yeah. You wear it a lot better than I did.” Ghost crossed the room to him, grabbing him easily. He pulled Soap to him and for a brief moment, Soap pretended he wasn’t a big tough soldier and let Ghost move him around. It ended with Ghost kissing down his chest, sinking to his knees. Soap was going to have to do this more often. His hands tangled into Ghost’s hair, feeling the strands curl around his fingers. 

Ghost mouthed at him and tugged the loose fitting pants down, paying special attention to his thighs before kissing at his cock. Soap tugged his hair and Ghost moaned softly, looking at him. It was dizzying. He looked so beautiful and so soft and so needy and they hadn’t even done anything. His hands ended up on either side of his waist, gently feeling him up. Ghost took all of him down his throat and started to bob his head excitedly. He was undoubtedly skilled, doing things with his tongue that made it hard to keep standing. He swallowed around him a few times before Soap tried to yank him off, squirming but Ghost didn’t let up. Soap felt his vision blur as he came down his throat, feeling him swallow all of it. 

Ghost pulled away and kissed his stomach. “You look good. Now put on something decent.” He got up like he hadn’t just ripped Soap’s soul from his chest. 

“Wha?” 

“People are coming over. You’ll want to be decent.” 

Soap rushed away and immediately started to get dressed. He wore his normal clothes, though he tried to make it look as if the clothes semi fit him instead of swamped him. 

It was a bit of a blur but he was suddenly sitting at a table with three other men, all of who were looking at Ghost. Soap couldn’t blame him. He still hadn’t put his mask on and was sipping his tea.

“Nice to see you again, Simon.” Price smiled at him.

“Thought you said no one called you that.” Soap interjected. 

Ghost glared. “They don’t usually.”

Alejandro and Rodolfo shared a glance that Soap certainly didn’t miss, but he decided not to press. 

Rodolfo gently tapped on the table. “So what’s the meaning of all of this? Not that I don’t appreciate spending time with you Ghost, I’ve been in your house twice in the years I’ve known you and the last time it was because you’d been stabbed.” 

“I want to perform a mutiny.” The air went cold around them. Almost frigid.

“Now, son, are yo-”

Alejandro slammed his cup down. “I’m in.” 

Ghost paused, looking genuinely surprised. “I really expected to have to fight you on this.”

“Nah. I’ve had a grudge since the beginning.”

Rodolfo frowned. “When he flirted with me?”

“Yes. He shouldn’t have.” 

Ghost shook his head and leaned into Soap. “So much for superior morals.”

Soap felt like he was on the outside of an inside joke, but he smiled nonetheless.

Rodolfo smiled at Alejandro before looking at Ghost. “We all knew each other before him. We can know each other after him.”

Price sighed. “Alright. I can’t let you three get tried for treason and I don’t.” He reached over and put his hand on Ghost’s shoulder, squeezing slightly. “So. Now to make a plan.” 

Alejandro tapped his hand against the table. “Always the hard part.”

“Well, there is one easy way.” Soap pointed out and they all looked at him expectantly. “He wants me anyway right?”

“NO.” Ghost snapped. “Absolutely not. No.” 

“It would be the easiest way.” Alejandro pointed out, looking uneasy about it himself.

“No!” Ghost glared at him and Soap quickly touched his arm, ignoring that he almost flinched back. 

“Simon.” Soap said softly. “It would be. You say you got bored of me. I kill him. You four cover it up.”

Rodolfo nodded. “It would even keep people’s faith in us. No one will even know Soap was there if we play our cards right.” 

Ghost looked distressed and it was clear he was somewhere else mentally. He took a deep breath and his face went painfully neutral. “Fine. You… have a point. Price. Any objections?”

“Would’ve suggested it myself honestly. It is the best option.” 

Ghost nodded. “Alright. I’ll do it later tonight. Fewer people in the streets to see him. Shepherd will be sloppier. Less likely to check for weapons.” 

“It would be better if I found my own.”

“Can’t risk it.” 

Soap saw the way he picked at his nails, the haunted look in his eyes. He very clearly wanted to put his mask back on but had left it in the other room, probably so he wouldn’t tug it back on. 

“Alright, M’eudail.” Soap leaned into him and their hands met. 

Price smiled and said something in Ghost’s ear that made him blush. Everyone seemed to find how red he got just as amusing as Soap did. Unfortunately, as soon as they were gone, Ghost did pull his mask on. 

Soap mourned the loss dramatically and with maximum guilt. Ghost ignored his grief to instead cuddle him close. 

“How did you meet them?”

“Alejandro and Rodolfo?” 

“Yeah. Those two.” 

“They came to meet Roba as ambassadors. Rodolfo was posing as a prince and hired Alejandro as a guard to make the thing more real. Found me and felt guilty.”

Soap kissed his jaw. “I’m glad we met like this. Though I think if I saw you in some of those clothes…”

“I was way smaller back then, but yeah. I was hot.” Ghost snuggled against him. 

Night started to fall and Ghost tightened his grip. “One hour. You have one hour, MacTavish.” 

Something about the use of his last name but Soap nod nervously. It would be easy. In and out. No big deal. 

The walk to Shepherd’s was thankfully lonesome. Not a soul in sight that would place them at the scene of the crime. 

He missed the conversation the two of them had. He didn’t miss the harsh way Ghost shoved him down. It was fake but filled with so much disgust it caught him off guard. 

Soap sat there quietly, only really starting to pay attention when Ghost left the room. 

Shepherd backhanded him before he could get a word in. “I’m disappointed.” The sting of it across his face took him off guard. It had been a while since he had really felt pain. 

“Why?” Soap gritted out. 

“I thought Ghost would be breaking you. You look… pampered.” He grabbed his mohawk and tilted his head to the side, examining him. “Barely a fucking scratch on you. Knew he should’ve left you to me.” 

Soap tensed but waited. If the moment arose, he wanted to make it look accidental. 

Shepherd grabbed the ties around his wrists, loose and easily breakable if Soap moved just right, and yanked him along. Soap tried to get his feet underneath him, but Shepherd didn’t let him. Instead, he just got dragged across the floor, kicking and struggling. 

Soap’s back hit the bed and he wondered briefly how different it would’ve been if Ghost hadn’t bothered. If this was his first night in this village. 

Hands were on his chest. Groping him and saying something. Soap couldn’t understand him. His accent was too thick and also fucking annoying. 

“Should’ve known that soft hearted sap didn’t have it in him. You need discipline.”

“Like a dog?” Soap growled. 

“You’re scottish arent you?” Shepherd sneered. 

The bonds snapped and Soap grabbed the blade hidden in his pants. It sank into Shepherd with a terrifying ease. Cut right through the flesh and muscle. He didn’t dignify him. Didn’t respect him. Death was the natural next step of a tyrant and he did not deserve to go cleanly. 

Soap made sure his heart could never beat again. 

And suddenly Ghost was there. Cleaning his hands. Telling him he was the perfect honeypot. That he was sorry for not waiting the full hour. 

Silly idiot. 

Soap didn’t care. He didn’t care at all. Because Shepherd was dead and Ghost was a live and that all seemed much more important.

#Johnny Soap Mactavish #Simon Ghost Riley #Soap Cod #Ghost COD #Soapghost #Ghostsoap #Soap x Ghost #Ghost x Soap #Macriley #Call of Duty #Call Of Duty Modern Warfare 2 #spoils of war

[ghosttotheparty]

holy things 6 also on ao3 // prev. // next

He’s alone when he wakes up.

It’s warm in Eddie’s bed, the blankets pulled up to his chin, and Steve doesn’t feel like an actual person, so tired and sleepy his body feels almost distant. He opens his eyes slowly, squinting across the room in the bright sunlight that’s sneaking in through the window. It takes a moment for him to hear Eddie in the kitchen, and lets his eyes close for a moment, exhaling.

He shivers in the cold morning air when he pushes the blankets back, pausing as he sits on the edge of the bed, rubbing his face and twisting his back until it cracks loudly. He aches in the best way, his limbs heavy and far away as he slowly makes his way to the kitchen. He’s rubbing his face again when Eddie sees him, standing at the stove.

“Morning,” Eddie says lightly, setting down the spatula and turning to Steve, who just hums in response. “C’mere.”

Steve goes to him, eyes barely open, and Eddie takes him into his arms, hugging him as Steve leans against him, face tucked into his neck.

“‘M so tired,” he mumbles.

“It’s early,” Eddie says quietly, running a hand over his back. “I didn’t think you would wake up so soon.”

Steve groans weakly, lifting his arms to hug Eddie’s waist. Eddie leans against the counter, his head resting on Steve’s.

“Why’re you up so early?” he asks slowly, his voice almost slurred, but Eddie understands him.

“I have band practice this morning,” he says. “I was gonna tell you before I left.”

“Oh.”

Steve pulls away, blinking his eyes open, lifting a hand to rub his cheek.

“Stevie,” Eddie says softly. His hands find Steve’s upper arms, holding him gently. “You don’t have to go if you wanna stay.”

Steve blinks.

“Really?” he asks, hushed. He sounds like a child, but he doesn’t think Eddie minds.

“Yeah,” Eddie says lightly, touching his chin. “You can go back to bed if you want. Watch a movie or something.”

“How long will you be gone?” Steve asks pathetically. Eddie’s lips quirk into a smile.

“All day,” he says. “Got work after practice, and I’m taking up someone else’s shift tonight after that.”

“Oh.”

“You wanna stay here?”

Steve nods, hands finding Eddie’s sides and fingers knotting in the fabric of his sweater. He wants him to stay, but he can’t ask him to.

“I’ll be back,” Eddie says like he can hear his thoughts. He’s still holding his chin, thumb brushing over his skin gently.

“Okay.”

Steve goes back to bed when Eddie leaves. It’s a little colder when he’s gone, but Steve is still warmer than he was when he was staying at his parents’ house. Especially when he hugs one of Eddie’s pillows to himself, arms tight around it as he buries his face in it, curled up as small as possible. It isn’t as quiet as it is at his parents’; the world is waking up outside, and he can hear cars driving by, sirens in the distance, voices speaking over each other and laughing. But it’s all muffled, under water, as his body melts into the bed, as his breathing slows.

He still feels transparent when he wakes up again, but the feeling isn’t as heavy as the first time.

There’s coffee in the kitchen, and he serves himself some after brushing his teeth. He sips it as he sits on the windowsill in the living room, legs crossed, hood over his head. From where he’s sitting he can see a crosswalk down the road. The ground is dusted with snow, bare tire tracks running down the center of the road, and all the cars parked along the sidewalk are covered in snow. As Steve watches, two people come out of the building across the street, bundled in heavy coats and scarves and hats, and by the way the taller one sticks a foot out to trip the other, Steve can tell they’re siblings. They head to a car, but before the taller can unlock the doors, the younger sibling is grabbing a handful of snow and reaching up to shove it in the other’s face. Steve can vaguely hear their shouting from where he is, and he smiles into the mug, watching them throw snow at each other, trip each other, tackle each other into the ground.

They finally leave after the younger one wins their fight, holding the other on the ground and squealing loudly, and Steve wonders if the older let them win. They’re both laughing as they get in the car and drive off.

The steam from Steve’s coffee is fogging the window up a little, and he wipes it clear with the end of his sleeve.

Snow starts to fall again, light and soft, and Steve stays on the window sill, watching. He holds the mug close to his face to let the steam wash over his face. He loves it here. Above the city, across from a dead plant in a terracotta pot. (There’s a post-it note on its side that reads water me, but the handwriting doesn’t look like Eddie’s.) Fingers curled around the warm ceramic of the mug in his hands, hiding the delicate blue floral design on it.

He washes the mug when he finishes his coffee, finding a towel hanging on the handle of the oven door to dry it and put it back in the cabinet. There are lots of mugs in this cabinet, in practically every shape, size, and color, and Steve pauses to look at them for a few moments. One of them has a broken handle, and he wonders why Eddie hasn’t thrown it out.

The ground creaks under his feet as he walks around slowly. One floor board is louder than the others, and Steve pauses over it, looking down to nudge it with his toes, watching the edge of the board shift against the others.

He goes back to Eddie’s room. Sits on the edge of the bed and looks around, holding the ends of his sleeves in his hands. It’s dimmer than the living room, but the light outside is bright from the cloudless sky and fresh snow. He admires it, the juxtaposition of the bright, cold light outside against the warm tones of the floor and posters and tapestries. Steve thinks Eddie’s favorite color must be red. The tapestry pinned across the ceiling is red, as are the rug on the floor by the bed and the guitar propped up on his dresser.

Steve gets up to look at the guitar better.

It isn’t shaped like any guitar he’s ever seen, irregular and sharp, and when he moves closer, he realizes it isn’t just red, but a sort of marbled red and black that shines and shimmers in the sunlight that hits it when Steve steps out of the way. He lifts a hand and tentatively runs his fingers over the strings, strumming them gently, and the sound it makes is empty, just metal strings shifting, but he still smiles a little bit at it. He keeps looking around, his chin lifting to look at the photographs that are taped to the mirror the guitar is leaning against. There’s one of Eddie with a balding man in a denim jacket, and Steve can’t suppress another smile as he looks at them. Eddie is grinning broadly, arms wrapped around the man like he’s trying to climb up him, and the man, Wayne, Steve assumes, is staring at whoever is taking the photo blankly. One of his hands is holding Eddie’s forearm (which is bare of tattoos), and Steve can see his eyes shining with amusement.

Steve looks at the other photos: one of Wayne sitting on the sofa holding a mug, watching a baseball game, one of a Black man holding out a rock on sign with his tongue out, one of a dog behind a chain link fence. There are small sketches and drawings among the photos, and Steve pauses to look at them. He recognizes the art style from a few of Eddie’s tattoos, the reaper on his bicep and the thorny rose on his forearm, the barbed wire on his collarbones, the moth across one of his calves. The style looks sort of old fashioned.

Steve’s eyes linger on one of the drawings of a wolf wearing a sheep’s face on its head. The wolf’s tongue is hanging out of its mouth, and the sheep’s nose is almost heart-shaped. Steve tilts his head at it, gazing, and he doesn’t know what to do with himself for a few moments. And then he moves on.

The snow turns to rain as Steve explores Eddie’s room, tapping quietly on the windows as he steps across the floor, feels the edge of the rug press to the bottoms of his feet, soft even through his socks. Eddie’s desk is cluttered like the rest of his room, miscellaneous objects scattered across the surface. Pencils and pens, tape and paint brushes, tiny figurines of people wielding swords. The wood of the desk is stained with paint in some places, tiny marks of blue and red and varying shades of grey. Some of them are smudged like Eddie tried to wipe them away and then gave up.

Steve’s eyes wander to the posters on the other walls, catching all the shades of red on them, and he wonders if red is just a metal color as Eddie would say. The biggest poster is a Slayer one, and Steve looks at it for a few moments, eyes scanning the complicated design constructed of swords and skulls and some kind of dragons. The one next to it reads The Sisters of Mercy, and then AC/DC, and Morbid Angel, KISS, Anthrax, Megadeth, Vixen… Steve wonders how Eddie knows who’s who when he’s listening to music, how he keeps track of all the bands he likes, all the songs, all the songs’ names, all the lyrics.

His eyes find the painted SATAN’S FAVORITE SODOMITE, and he steps closer to it curiously. Up close, he can see the individual brush strokes, like whoever painted it used a particularly stiff brush. He traces the S in sodomite lightly, feels the tiny ridges of the paint under his fingertip.

A car drives by outside. It’s playing music through open windows, but it’s gone too quickly for Steve to really hear the song.

He looks up at the tapestry on the ceiling and he realizes it isn’t actually a tapestry; it looks like it’s just a bedsheet, but the red is uneven, lighter and darker in different areas like it was haphazardly dyed red. It doesn’t cover the whole ceiling. In one corner, Steve’s eyes catch on some cracks in the off-white paint. His bedroom at his parents’ has never had any cracks in it. Not literally, anyway.

It also never felt as warm as this does. As welcoming.

At his parents’, he’s always felt like his back needs to be stiff, his chin raised, poised perfectly like he’s balancing a book on his head. He’s always been over-aware of footsteps in the hallway, of how hard a door was closed across the house. Even when his parents were away, the television set was quiet when it wasn’t shut off, and his steps were as gentle as possible, like he was sneaking down the hallways of his childhood home.

He turns in a circle to look around, almost twirling, his smile widening when his foot catches on the curling corner of the rug. He could sit on the floor here and feel fine about it, even if Eddie were to walk in and find him here. He reads the spines of the books that are stacked on Eddie’s desk and dresser, runs his fingertips along the case of the record player, and he kind of feels like dancing in this silence, in the music that is the old floorboards creaking under his step and the tapping of rain on the window.

He’s never felt so…

Fine.

It’s a nice feeling, and he lets himself have it. Lets himself pretend he deserves it.

And for some reason, he finds himself on the floor by Eddie’s bed, kneeling on the ground. He pauses, hesitating, listening to the rain outside, to the cars and buses passing, and he lets his head fall forward, his face pressing to the blanket that’s hanging over the side of the bed, draping over the tops of his legs. It smells like Eddie.

Steve lifts a hand, touches his fingers to his forehead, chest, shoulders, murmurs under his breath, and then he closes his eyes, lets his fingers lace, and presses his face into the blanket. He whispers into it, his words muffled and inaudible, slow and careful like he’s scared of messing up.

Our Father, who art in heaven Hallowed be thy name Thy kingdom come, they will be done On earth as it is in heaven

He pauses for a breath, his lower lip quivering for a moment. He catches it between his teeth, his fingers tightening, his eyes squeezing shut.

Give us this day our daily bread. And forgive us our tresspasses As we forgive those who have trespassed against us.

Lead us not into temptation

And Steve falls silent.

He lifts his head and lets his hands fall to his lap, where they fall apart, his fingers unlacing. His eyes open, and he looks up across Eddie’s bed to the wall, covered in posters and faded photographs and artwork.

He doesn’t finish the prayer. It remains incomplete, dangling in the air and taunting him. But he ignores it. He lets his head rest on the bed, his cheek pressing to the blanket.

It finally leaves him alone after a while, as he’s breathing slowly, carefully, fingers playing with the end of the blanket. And he melts against the side of the bed, his eyes fluttering shut as the peace from earlier envelopes him, surrounding him and cradling him until he feels safe and sleepy and fucking fine.

There’s a blanket on the sofa that he wraps around himself when he curls up against the arm rest. And then he keeps it there, holding the corners bunched up in his hand over his heart like a child pretending to be a superhero as he wanders into the kitchen, sleepily browsing the cabinets. It feels weird to be looking through Eddie’s food, looking for something to take, but he knows Eddie would want him to eat, would be disappointed if he came home tonight as Steve hadn’t eaten. So Steve finds some chips in a cabinet and serves them in a bowl, then finds some grapes in the fridge.

He sets them on the stand next to the sofa before he goes to the movie collection under the television set, and he looks through them, trying to see if he recognizes any, but he doesn’t. He looks at all of them curiously, wishing there was enough time in a day to watch them all (preferably with Eddie here), but his eyes linger on one that reads EDWARD SCISSORHANDS, and he almost smiles at the odd title, reaching for it. He stops when he sees the front of the case, blinking, gazing at the characters. His parents would do the Sign of the Cross.

Steve’s thumb brushes over the character’s hand like he’s trying to feel how sharp the blades are. There’s a girl leaning against him, hugging him, her blonde hair and white shirt contrasting his black, teased hair and shiny black shirt, and Steve suppresses a smile. They make him think of him and Eddie.

He does his best to copy what Eddie did when he set up Labyrinth for them to watch, and when he’s successful, he smiles giddily, shaking his hands out in the air before he goes back to the sofa, tightening the blanket around him.

He feels kind of like he did when his parents started leaving him home alone. Purposeless, a little lonely. But unlike when his parents would leave town without him, he knows that Eddie is coming home tonight.

The sun sets early, and it’s almost pitch dark outside when Steve hears Eddie come inside and kick his shoes off by the door. There’s a rustle of a plastic bag, and he calls Steve’s name tentatively, quietly, like he isn’t sure if he’s there or not.

“Here,” Steve calls back quietly, looking toward the doorway, where Eddie appears, holding a plastic bag and wearing a black beanie. The ends of his hair are wet, and his jacket is spotted with rain, but he’s smiling warmly. “Hi.”

“Hey,” Eddie says. “You okay?”

“I watched Edward Scissorhands,” Steve says, grinning. There’s another movie on now, but he isn’t really paying attention to it.

“Did you like it?” Eddie asks, his smile brightening.

“Yeah, it was good.”

“I’ve thought about being him for Halloween.”

“Please do,” Steve says, eyes widening.

Eddie laughs a little bit, and he steps into the room to pass the plastic bag to Steve.

“Dinner,” he says lightly. “Got takeaway on my way home. Did you eat today?” he asks like it just occurred to him, looking at Steve as he tugs the beanie off his head. His hair is messed up, frizzy and sticking out a little bit.

“I had coffee and chips and grapes,” Steve says.

“Coffee isn’t food, sunshine.”

Steve sticks his tongue out at him as he pulls his jacket off, and Eddie scoffs.

“‘S got calories,” Steve says.

“Not enough.”

Steve sticks his tongue out again. Eddie does it back.

“I’m gonna take a shower, and then I will join you,” Eddie says, holding his jacket away from himself and shaking the rain off of it. “I smell like beer and cigarettes.”

Steve looks into the bag as Eddie goes back to the entryway to hang his jacket.

“Did you smoke on your way home?” he asks, raising his voice for Eddie to hear him.

“...Only one,” Eddie calls back childishly, like he’s proclaiming that he’s six and a half. Steve laughs to himself.

Eddie’s hair is wet when he comes back, and he purposely sits close enough to Steve that he can turn his head quickly and smack Steve’s face with the ends of it. It’s cold, and Steve gasps, letting out a laugh when Eddie says, “What’s wrong?” so innocently it seems out of character. He pushes at him.

“Asshole.”

“Wo-o-o-ow…” Eddie says slowly, snatching the plastic bag from Steve’s lap. “I invite you into my home, and this is how you treat me…”

“You need to learn how to treat your guests,” Steve says, still grinning, leaning against the armrest of the sofa to face Eddie, who lets out an offended scoff.

“Here’s your pizza, you little shit.”

“Aw, so sweet.”

The movie is still on, but neither of them pays attention to it, facing each other as Eddie peels the pepperonis off his slice and pops them into his mouth.

“What’d you do today?” he asks lightly, his lips shining from the grease.

“Fell asleep after you left,” Steve says. “Looked around.”

“Find anything interesting?”

“Oh, yeah, lots.”

Eddie suppresses a smile because his mouth is full, and Steve looks at him. He’s wearing a Metallica sweatshirt, and the fabric at the tops of his shoulders are wet from his hair. He’s got on the same shorts that he was wearing a while ago, and Steve can see his tattoos, including some letters that read TOO FAR GONE on the inside of his thigh, next to the burning church. He smells clean, like citrus and earth.

“I tried to pray today,” he says before taking another bite of his pizza. He doesn’t know why he said it. Eddie doesn’t need to know. But he kind of does. “Tried to say the Lord’s Prayer.”

“How was it?” Eddie asks smoothly. He doesn’t sound like he’s judging him, like it’s weird that Steve tried to pray at Eddie’s apartment.

“...I don’t know. Fine, I guess.” He pauses, and Eddie is quiet, waiting. “I didn’t finish.”

“Did you want to?” Eddie asks after glancing away. His cheeks look pink.

“...I don’t know,” Steve says again. “I guess not.”

And they’re quiet.

“Why didn’t you take your guitar to practice?” Steve asks curiously after a while, and Eddie blinks at him, confused.

“My guitar,” he repeats, mouth full.

“The red one?”

“Mm,” Eddie exclaims, nodding, pausing to swallow. “She doesn’t go with me to practice, she’s only for shows.”

“She?”

“Yes,” Eddie says, like it’s obvious. “She’s my sweetheart.”

Steve stares at him blankly for a moment, holding his gaze.

“I thought you were gay.”

Eddie rolls his eyes.

“I’m not fucking my guitar, Steve.”

“...Coulda fooled me.”

Eddie lets out an offended Ugh! And Steve giggles again, ducking his head to hide his face.

He leans back again when he stops laughing, his cheeks sore from smiling so much even though Eddie’s only been home for a few minutes, and Eddie is already looking at him, eyes shining like Steve is a cute puppy or something. Steve’s cheeks flush.

Eddie’s eyes flicker down to the hoodie Steve is wearing, and he blinks, pausing, and then he’s reaching out, touching the cross hanging from Steve’s neck. Steve looks down, looks at Eddie’s fingers holding it up to see it clearly. And he reminds Steve of Edward and Kim on the cover of Edward Scissorhands, dark and light cradling each other. Eddie’s nails are painted black, starting to chip around the edges, and his fingers are rough with calluses, but his touch is almost careful as he turns the shining cross between his fingertips.

“It’s, uhm,” Steve says, somehow nervous, like Eddie is going to scold him. “It’s a family heirloom. My parents gave it to me for Christmas.”

Eddie smiles a little bit.

“It’s pretty.”

“I’m… I’m kinda scared that I’m gonna lose it or something if I take it off,” Steve confesses. “Feels like something I’d do.”

Eddie shrugs, glancing at it again before he lets go and leans back, looking into Steve’s eyes.

“Doesn’t have to be a big thing,” he says lightly. “‘S just a necklace.”

He pauses for a moment, looking at it, and then, “How were Sharon and Benjamin?”

Steve blinks, pausing, and he shrugs.

“They were okay.”

“Sharon wasn’t weird?”

Steve tilts his head, shrugging lightly.

“Not really. She was kinda easy to talk to, actually. I think, like…” He pauses, poking at his food for a moment. “I don’t know. I get along with her better?”

“She didn’t say anything…” Eddie makes a face, wincing.

“Not really,” Steve says again, softer, looking at his food. “I think she’s just… I don’t know. When she… said that to me, when I was a kid, I think it just… Made me self-conscious, I guess. And I’ve never really been, like… a tactile person, I guess, so I didn’t like hugging her especially because she squeezes so tightly,” he says, his brows furrowing as he thinks. “But I actually didn’t mind spending time with her as much as I thought I would. She was kind of easier to hang out with than my mom.”

“Huh,” Eddie says thoughtfully. “Well, your mom does sound difficult to be around.”

“Yeah,” Steve scoffs, taking a bite and looking up at Eddie, who’s looking back at him already, smiling a little bit.

“I’m glad it was fine,” Eddie says softly. “Mostly, at least.”

Steve smiles.

The movie ends as they’re eating, and neither of them notices until the credits start to roll. Eddie gets up and goes to the movie collection wordlessly, scanning the spines, and then he looks over his shoulder at Steve.

“You seen the Lost Boys?”

“You wanna take a guess?”

Eddie sticks his tongue out at him, and he turns back to the movies. Steve waits, watching him, finishing the crust of his pizza, tugging the blanket around himself more tightly. Eddie sits next to him when the movie starts, smiling excitedly, and Steve is leaning closer to him without even realizing he’s doing so, but Eddie doesn’t seem to mind. He lifts an arm for Steve to move closer, to lean against him, and when he does, Eddie takes a piece of his own hair and drags it across the back of Steve’s neck, snickering when Steve startles and punches his stomach gently.

“So mean,” Steve complains, but he doesn’t move away, tucking himself into Eddie’s side. Eddie laughs lightly again, slouching into the sofa and dragging his fingers through Steve’s hair carefully. Steve hums softly.

They’re quiet as they watch the movie, except the few lines that Eddie says out loud, speaking along with the characters and prompting Steve to giggle and wonder how many times he’s seen this movie. He turns his face into Eddie’s chest, taking a breath just to inhale the scent of his hoodie, and he doesn’t think he’s ever felt so… fine.

His stomach is full, and Eddie’s hand is running up and down his forearm slowly, so lightly it almost tickles, and his parents would have conniptions if they knew he was watching this movie, but he’s enjoying it anyway. He melts against Eddie even more, which he didn’t think was possible, sighing, and Eddie’s hand slides up to his, his fingertips brushing over his knuckles. Steve turns his hand a little bit, reaching for Eddie’s, taking two of his fingers in his fist and holding them as he presses his cheek to Eddie’s shoulder. Eddie’s thumb brushes over his fingers, and his other hand pushes into Steve’s hair, scratching his scalp lightly, and Steve’s eyes flutter shut as he hums again.

Eddie keeps touching him gently like this for the rest of the movie, combing through his hair, brushing over his knuckles, absently, like it’s instinct to be so soft with Steve. Steve likes it.

Neither of them move when the credits start.

Until Steve starts to fidget with his fingers, fluttering them together for a few moments, before,

“Eddie?”

“Mhmm?” Eddie hums softly, like he thinks Steve is asleep.

“Can I… Can I do something weird?”

“I love weird,” Eddie says lightly.

Steve hesitates, biting his lip nervously, and then he carefully detaches them, pulling away from where Eddie’s arm is wrapped around him. Eddie lets him, watching curiously as Steve slides off the sofa to the ground, kneeling. Steve glances up at him, cheeks warm as he situates himself between Eddie's legs.

His heart feels like it slows down. He melts against one of Eddie’s legs, letting his head fall. His eyes flutter shut. His hands find the fabric of Eddie’s sweatpants, holding it loosely like he’s trying to ground himself even though he really doesn’t mind the way he feels a little lightheaded.

He hums when he feels Eddie’s hand on his head, nuzzling against his leg. Eddie’s fingers are gentle as he combs through Steve’s hair, playing with it. Steve exhales slowly, swallowing as he suppresses a soft noise.

“Sweetheart,” Eddie whispers after a while, leaning across the sofa. Steve hums again, warmth flushing through his body. “Put this under your knees.”

Steve blinks his eyes open, looking up at him blearily. He’s holding a pillow, and Steve reaches for it slowly. He feels like he’s just woken up, his limbs heavy.

The pillow is soft under Steve’s knees, and he hadn’t even realized how hard the floor was.

“Thank you,” Steve mumbles, his eyes falling shut before his head even rests on Eddie's leg again.

“You comfortable?” Eddie asks softly, his hand running through Steve’s hair again.

“Mm. Feel good.”

“Okay,” Eddie breathes. His fingers curl into Steve’s hair, his nails scratching at his scalp, and Steve shivers, shifting to wrap his arms around Eddie's leg, hugging it to himself. And Eddie lets him stay there, touching him tenderly.

And Steve lets himself be touched tenderly.

“Does your guitar have a name?” Steve asks as they’re going to bed, eyes sleepy and tongues tasting like mint. He looks at it again, across the room. He can’t see how beautiful it is in the dim light of the street lamps outside.

“No,” Eddie says, rummaging through a drawer. “Should I name her?”

“Just figured she’d have one, being your sweetheart and all.”

“What do you suggest? Something biblical?”

Steve suppresses a smile, crawling onto the bed and sitting with his back against the wall to watch as Eddie finally finds a hair tie and tosses his hair up messily.

“Abigail? Esther?”

“Oh,” Eddie says, grimacing as his fingers knot in his hair. “I was thinking Jesus.” He lets his hair fall and starts over as Steve snorts.

“I thought it was a she?”

“Jesus could rock some heels.”

Steve snorts again, shaking his head.

“Blasphemous.”

“Is that blasphemy?” Eddie questions, finally succeeding in tying his hair up. There are curls escaping around his neck and framing his face, but he doesn’t mind them. He climbs into the bed, laying on his back and looking up at Steve.

“My parents would say it is.”

“Your parents say a lot of things.”

“‘S true.”

“You got any plans for the new year?” Eddie asks abruptly as Steve is laying down, like it’s just occurred to him. Steve moves close, resting his head on Eddie’s chest and smiling when Eddie’s arm wraps around him.

“Like resolutions or New Year’s Day?”

“New Year’s Day.”

“Oh, yeah, I’m going to, like, four parties that night. I didn’t tell you?”

“Yeah, because you have so many friends,” Eddie says, and his hand pushes into Steve’s hair to tug it teasingly. Steve grins. “No plans?”

“Nope.”

“We’re playing at the Hideout that night, you wanna come?”

“The bar?”

“Mhmm.”

“Am I allowed?”

“I’ll sneak you in.”

Steve scoffs.

“Okay.”

“Yeah?”

“Mm. Wanna see you in your element.”

Eddie just hums in response, and Steve can feel it through his chest, this slow, gentle rumble like thunder in his throat. And then Steve listens to him breathe. He kind of wants to laugh, thinking about how he swore to his parents there wouldn’t be any temptation, that he would be asleep or studying during the new year, and now he’s planning on going to a bar to see a metal band play.

They don’t say anything else. Steve slides his arm around Eddie's middle, hugging him tightly, squeezing for a moment, and Eddie rolls onto his side to let him closer. Their legs tangle under the blankets. The cross shifts on Steve’s chest and slips under the collar of his hoodie, and it’s cold against his skin for a moment, but he finds that he doesn’t mind it anymore. It’s just a necklace.

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#im aware that i end almost all of these with them going to sleep #just ignore that #steddie #steddie fanfic #steddie fanfiction #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #steve harrington #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #a mess of holy things