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#also it’s like only me making content for them so
faggy--butch · 8 hours
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is it just me or is the "trans guys are just some boring guys and they make lame music and trans women are cool and interesting and make loud music" jokes almost like. an excuse for why theres not that many trans guys who are popular content creators or musicians or actors or authors or what have you. like blaming the invisibility of trans men on being "boring" and therefore not doing anything rather than oppression.
not to mention the example of music being that people have heard of one singular trans guy who works in a genre they dont like [people really love to act like cavetown is like specifically bad or cringe but thats just what most indie pop/rock/folk sounds like] and theyve heard of a handful of trans women who make hyperpop that they already like [and laura jane grace of course] and its really telling on themselves. theres trans guys making hyperpop and trans women making ""lame ukulele music"" and both of them and nonbinary people making music of tons of other genres. like. cmon. it reminds me of xkcd 385.
also i dont think these jokes are intentionally malicious or anything [most of the time] but it also feels sort of weird to be joking about how boring a group of marginalized people are. im not going to act like its the biggest deal in the world but its sort of low level bullying, innit? and i imagine having this weird expectation to be "cool and interesting" isnt fun for trans women either. its nice to get to be lame sometimes.
Yeah it's super weird, especially because it's repeated over and over, that part is the suspicious part. I even saw it on reddit a few days ago in one of the ftm subs. I do think it's like blaming the lack of trans men artists on trans men being "boring" instead of, you know the bigotry, the erasure, the inequality I think it's also a weird expectation that we all HAVE to live up to what other people think of as "cool" like if we're all not making hardcore metal and being as "SICK" as humanly possible, we are failing at transgender music and therefore are the reason trans men aren't represented as artists enough, which is ummm. okay.
why can't we make soft love songs about being bugs, or whatever. What happens to trans women who don't live up to the metal hardcore aesthetic? Look at Dylan Mulvaney. She made a dumb cutsie girlypop song and everyone acted like she is the founder of misogyny herself. So not only are we ridiculed for the music we make, we're trapped in transphobic expectations of what music we can or should make.
If you expect all trans women to make metal, you'll only see trans women who make metal, if you expect all trans men to make soft music, that's all you'll find! because that's all you looked for! Another thing is like, Oh all trans women music is cool and hardcore rock and roll, but trans men music is dumb and cutsie ukulele music? I wonder what gender those genres are normally associate with? Uhoh we're doing a sexism maybe the person making the joke doesn't have malicious intent, but the joke itself sure does.
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bluesidez · 2 days
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GymRat!Miguel Part 8
content warning: fluff, a little bit of hurt/comfort, some mentions of food, 18+ so MDNI, thigh riding 😙, thigh fucking 🤪, public indecency??? exhibitionism???, katoptronophilia aka mirror sexy time (thanks for the word jelly 🪼), just overall a really good time
word count: 4.4k, not proofread (we're only gearing up to what I assume will be another giant chapter 😷)
Prev | Next ✩°。 ⋆⸜ 🎧✮ Masterlist
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GymRat!Miguel who does some sets of push-ups, sit-ups, and leg raises in place of the gym. You watch him while you wait for room service, encouraging him from the side. Your presence was especially needed during the sit-ups when you sit at his feet, holding them down and giving him kisses when sits up.
GymRat!Miguel who sings loudly in the shower after his workout. You have to answer the door with an apology as the server laughs at Miguel belting out Britany Spears.
GymRat!Miguel who finally decides to respond to his texts. He’s had enough time to cool off and your presence was like a calm breeze, kissing away at his skin.
He discards his empty plate, placing it back on the cart. You’re still chewing away at some fluffy pancakes, enjoying the views of the high-rise hotel as the default channel played soft jazz.
GymRat!Miguel who lays in your lap while you eat some fruit. He has his phone in his hands ready to type, but he opens his mouth, silently begging for you to feed him grapes and pineapple chunks.
He hums to himself happily when you comply, combing a hand through his hair. He felt so peaceful like this. Serene.
GymRat!Miguel who sighs as he opens the message app. Here we go.
Abuela 💕:
“Abuela I’ll call you tonight”
“And there will be no babies. Not now”
“There better not be!”
Pa:
“Gracias pa”
“I’m glad you were able to meet her”
“She means a lot to me”
“I can tell”
“Mijo you pack a big punch!”
“Uno más!!!”
“You got that from me 👍🏽”
“Sure did pa 😭”
Gabri 🤡🤏🏽:
“You’re such an instigator”
“It’s not instigating. It’s reporting 😌”
“‘It’s reporting ☝🏽🥸’”
“Shaddap”
“You think I’m letting a member of the robotics team bully me?”
“You have perfect pitch and play the saxophone”
“You’re not winning this battle”
“Aren’t you supposed to be entertaining my girl? 🤨”
“Direct this clown act to her”
“Not sure how she puts up with it but I’ll free her soon”
“Stfu”
“A real man would be doing OTHER things but I digress”
“Did you really have to send a pic”
“You hate me”
“It’s clear to me now”
“Anyway what’s this about Tyler punching things”
“OHHHHH”
“He got him good”
“Square in the face”
“A bloody mouth to match his nose”
“TWINEM”
“Good”
"Pa said he granted me the ability to punch"
“He can dream on about that”
“Because where tf is my strength 😒”
"He punched Tyler before"
"Your time will be soon"
"😕"
"Also Ik about Nancy cheating already"
"Tyler told me in high school"
"I didn't want to be the one to tell Kron"
"Ur better than me"
"I would have told him that after that punch"
"YOUR MOM IS A HOMEWRECKER!"
"That's not what that means but ok"
Dana:
“Does your bf know you’re lusting after others?”
“Not if you don’t tell 😙”
“….I don’t think I want to give you her number”
“You’re perfect for Gabri”
“You’re both unbearable”
“What’s unbearable is I’m not talking to your gf rn”
“It’s too many O’Haras”
“Too much testosterone”
“SAVE ME MIG’S GF”
“MIG’S GF SAVE ME!!!”
Dad….Tyler:
“It’s ok. For what it’s worth, I can tell that you had good intentions.”
“Gabri told me what happened”
“I apologize for acting out of order and punching your son, but I couldn’t let him disrespect my girlfriend and my mom. No matter how difficult she may be, I’m the one who should tell her about it. Not him.”
"I completely understand that. You did what you thought was right, and that's far more admirable than what Kron did."
"In another reality, you and Kron could get along. For now, I will aim for cordial. I will make sure that he apologizes to you, your girlfriend, and Conchata."
"I don't want an apology if it's not genuine."
"Let's move on from that. You said you wanted to make it up to me? I saw that you added more dates to the hotel. Thank you for that, you didn't have to."
"Yes! If you are willing, I would love for you and your girlfriend to meet with me. I actually arranged something for you, Gabriel, and your girlfriends. I want to hear your input before I finalize the details."
"Sure thing. Is this afternoon ok?"
"That's perfect. I'll see you then."
Ma:
Read: 11:10 AM ✓✓
“Ugh,” Miguel groans, shutting his phone off and closing his eyes.
You stop rubbing his hair and look down, “What’s wrong?”
Miguel grunts as he moves your hand to continue, “My mom wants me to come home. Not sure if I want to do that right now. Not unless I know she’s ready to be accountable for once, which I highly doubt.”
You hum in understanding, “She’s still your mom, though. You’ll have to see her eventually.”
“My mom or not, she had no right to talk to you the way she did,” Miguel said reaching his hand up to your face. “It was cruel and…strange coming towards you. She doesn’t know you. Not yet, anyway.”
It’s not like she was trying to know you, either. Miguel seemed to understand this in your silence.
“I have to go grab some clothes so she might just get her wish,” Miguel says, turning his head towards your stomach.
You look down at him, “You don’t have to. Today is my last day here.”
“Well, lucky for us, Tyler extended the stay for a few more days,” he grinned. He started to move your shirt to fondle your skin.
Your stomach twitched as his breath brushed your skin. He started to kiss along your front, head disappearing under your sweater. He hummed as he started to tug at your underwear with his teeth.
“Hey,” you say, watching his head moving around through the material. “Stop that and finish talking.”
You pulled your sweater up to reveal him, his teeth still holding the band of your panties and eyes like a cat that got caught.
He let the band go close to your stomach so it wouldn’t snap, “This visual is making me forget everything.” His eyes are heavy and wandering.
You look to where he’s looking to see that you’re essentially flashing him.
You drop your shirt in embarrassment, letting out a sound of panic.
“No, no, baby let me see.”
“No, you’re at such a weird angle.”
“All art must be viewed up close and personal.”
Miguel sat up from your lap. He watched as you huffed and pinched the neckline of your sweater, moving it for air.
"You're so confident from afar, but when I'm near you like this, you get so shy. Even in public, you can be so bold. It's just you and me here."
"It's just," you watch Miguel as he crowds your space. His mouth goes behind your ear to press his lips into your skin. "I don't know. It feels like...more when it's just us. More real."
"Does it not feel real when we're in public?"
Miguel sits back, eyes wondering to yours. There's a pinch in his eyebrows, so faint you almost miss it.
"It does! That's not what I mean."
"Then, what is it? Tell me. Talk to me."
"I want to do more with you."
"But?" Miguel holds your hands in his, stopping you from picking at the loose threads of the sweater. He rubs them with his thumbs, itching to pull you closer.
"But, when you look at me like that, I feel like I could pass out. I get overwhelmed and nervous. I don't want to say or do anything stupid. It gets harder to control myself. I feel crazy."
Oh.
Oh.
"Then there are moments when my brain fools me into thinking that you don't like me in the way that I like you. Moments when that girl from not so long ago comes back, ashamed of herself and her body. A small part of me that thinks you could date anyone else and you're settling."
Miguel takes a moment to process your words.
He takes a breath, then opens his mouth.
"You really don't understand how much you affect me, do you?"
Miguel pulled you in his lap, fed up with this charade.
You grip his shoulders, steadying your balance with how fast he grabbed you.
"Miguel-"
"I don't know everything that your last boyfriend did to you and I don't know everything that you've experienced because of your body. Baby, I don't even know what you've seen all this time to make you think you're not worthy of love and respect, but I'm here to squash it."
"I meant it when I said that I love you. I'll learn it in a hundred languages just to remind you. I'll even tattoo it on my forehead for you to be reminded of it every single time you see me."
"I don't think you need to go that far," you say, eyes warm.
"No, I think I should. Anything for you to understand me. Anything for you to see you like how I see you."
"Letting out my deepest darkest secrets here, but do you know what I did when we first met?"
You shake your head, curious.
"I had a dream about you that was so good, I fell out of my bed. Peter never lets me live it down."
"A sweet dream?"
"Now, you and I both know it was more than that. Two cold showers should answer your questions."
You hide your face in his neck, heartbeat drumming through you, "Did you really?"
"Hand to heart. I understand your feelings. I acknowledge them too, but I need you to understand mine as well. Trust me when I say that you are unbelievably sexy. I love you and your body. My eyes caught your appearance before I came to know your personality. Anybody would be lucky to have you, but I'm the luckiest because you chose me."
Miguel hugged you close and kissed your head.
"Now let's rewind. You said you feel crazy when you're close to me?"
You groan in his neck.
"Uncontrollable? Heated?"
"Miggy, stop."
"My girlfriend is head over heels for me," Miguel hummed as he rubbed his hands down your naked legs. "She wants to ruin me."
"No, I don't."
"She's still wearing my clothes with nothing underneath but her panties and is leaning all over me. Her thighs are around my waist and she just told me that she wants me."
"You put me here," you lean up and stare at him. Your cheeks were hot and your eyes were dewey.
"She's looking at me like she's upset, but now I know that her heart is going crazy. I want to kiss her."
"Then do it," you whisper.
The kiss is sweet, the taste of fruit and syrup still on your lips. You finally relax in his arms, body melted against his. His hands slip under your sweater, dancing over your back. Your skin is soft and warm, a blanket over Miguel's figure.
The time where you two connect extends deeper and longer. You let your hands venture further than the nape of his neck, roaming until you brush across his chest. Miguel's breath hitched as your nails raked his nipple, chest jumping at the impact.
You break for a second, wanting to get air, but Miguel leans back in, desperate. He's whining, groping your body all over. His noises go straight to your core, twitching above him. He matches your pace, dragging your hips across his, reveling in how fast your body was reacting to him.
When he leans back, there's a string of saliva connecting you two. He's breathing hard as he watches you.
"Can I take this off? Please," Miguel grips the bottom of your sweater, eyes pleading.
You bite your lip and slide the sweater over your head, dropping it to the bed. You bring your hands over the top of your chest, arms framing your breasts.
You can't look Miguel in the eyes, too shy, "Is this fine?"
Miguel's eyes almost turn as he watches you, so shy but so seductive. He reaches out to cup your breasts in his hands, groaning when they plush through his fingers.
"You're so," Miguel rubs his thumbs across your nipples, enjoying you twitching and gasping in his hold. "Fuck."
His gaze burned into you, hungry as you lapped his tongue around your nipples. You let out a whimper when you feel him pull your skin in, mouth hot. It doesn't beat his pleased hum, voice like a man finally getting relief.
He massages your vacant breast, movements getting harsher. His grip is like a vice making it harder for you to second-guess yourself.
You hiss and rake your hands through his hair, "B-baby, be careful."
"Lo siento, mi amor," Miguel says, kissing across your areolas. "'M sorry."
You find your breath, fighting to steady your voice, "You're on me like we didn't just do something earlier."
Miguel paused and placed his cheek on your chest, "Baby, I'm a virgin and a man, not a prude. With practice, I could go all day."
The thought of that has you tightening your legs around him, hips stuttering. Miguel shifts to pull you over his left thigh.
"Does that excite you, baby?" Miguel smirks.
You close your eyes and nod, hips rolling over his thigh, keening high as he hikes his thigh closer to your sex and grips your waist. His muscles feel so good against you, the sounds getting wetter and wetter with each swipe.
"God, you're so pretty like this," Miguel sighs. "My gorgeous girl."
Your movements are becoming more frantic, Migiuel's voice in your ears spurring you on. He was sucking into your neck, growling as you scratched against his shoulder blades.
"That's right, baby. Keep going. Use me to get off," Miguel helped your hips keep a steady pace, pulling at your briefs to a makeshift thong. The tightness of your underwear combined with his thigh and his voice sends you into overdrive.
"Miguel!" you sob, hands gripping his hair. Your body trembles as you squeeze your thighs around him, cunt pulsating around nothing but your underwear, release leaking onto his leg.
Miguel cooed as you dropped your weight against him, body limp and hips fluttering with aftershocks. You panted as you kept your head on his shoulder, willing yourself to calm down.
"Are you ok?" Miguel asks, kissing your temple, your ear, your cheek. He feels you nod into his skin, blissed out.
"I like how you called me the needy one and you're the one who came three times today," Miguel mumbled, laughing as you swatted at his pec.
"I already confessed what you do to me. This shouldn't be shocking."
"Didn't say that. 'M just happy you feel more comfortable around me. It's what I want." One last kiss to your face seals his joy.
You lift up on shaky knees, hands holding onto Miguel for dear life. Your thighs were still shaking and your underwear was ruined. Miguel's cock twitched at the essence that seeped onto his leg, watching as sticky lines dragged from his skin to yours.
He grabbed you by the waist with one hand and wiped at your slick with another.
He's about to swipe at it with his tongue until you stop him.
"Miguel! Don't do that," you say, flustered.
"What? I'm just enjoying the fruits of my labor," he pouts as you grab some napkins and clean off his hands and thigh.
"So close to eating you, yet so far," he sighs miserably. "One day."
You ignore him and look down at his erection, taking a knuckle and lining the side. It was your first time really paying attention to him down there, now that you weren't distracted by his advances.
"What about you?"
He twitched as you walked along his clothed shaft, pre-come leaking through the fabric.
"As much as I want you to continue, we have to get ready for today," Miguel jerks as you continue your ministrations with a pout on your face. "And, I need condoms if you want to take this any further."
"Not even a blowjob?" you peer at him with your deer eyes again.
Miguel took a deep breath, "I was right. You are trying to ruin me."
GymRat!Miguel who lets you know that Tyler wants to meet you both after you both have changed clothes for the day. Something about a surprise.
"I love surprises!" you say turning to Miguel with a smile on your face. "As long as it's nothing like last night. I think it'll be ok."
Miguel matches your smile and presses his lips to yours.
GymRat!Miguel who stops at his home briefly, trying to get in and get out. He manages to fill up his travel bag, drop off his laundry, and give Gabriel a heart attack all before his mom notices he's there.
"Where are you going?" Gabriel asks with his hand over his heart, headphones lopsided around his neck.
"None of your business, nosy."
"Uh, it kind of is my business. You think you're grown when you're really not."
Miguel rolls his eyes. He didn't really want to tell Gabriel, but sometimes he couldn't say no to him.
"We're going out to see Tyler. He has a surprise for us. He also said he arranged something for us including you and Dana."
"Oh shit! Ok. And if mom asks where you are?"
"Tell her I'll come by tomorrow. I'm spending the next few days with my girlfriend."
"Alrighty," Gabriel sing-songs, placing his headphones back on his head. "You kids be safe. Don't scare my girl away."
Miguel smacks Gabriel across the head and runs out the door before he can catch up.
GymRat!Miguel who just laughs at your face while you frantically unlock the car to let him in.
"Baby, what's wrong?" you ask, voice in a panic.
"A string bean is trying to attack me," he responds, giggling as Gabriel runs out of the house.
"I'm getting you back for that you oaf!" Gabriel yells as Miguel backs out of the driveway. He stops his anger to wave at you, which you return with a sweet smile.
"Baby, you're encouraging him."
GymRat!Miguel who guides you through the doors of a cafe that Tyler recommended. He sticks out like a sore thumb with his stark white hair and light clothing. The only semblance of color on him was his silver jewelry.
He sat there, typing away at his phone, oblivious to the people around him who found familiarity in his form.
"Dad," Miguel said, the word funny on his tongue. He tried to make an effort to refer to him as his father in public, something Tyler appreciated greatly.
"Son!" he got up and engulfed him in a hug, giving you a softer version afterward. "It's good to see you both."
"It's lovely to see you again as well, Mr. Stone," you say, giving Miguel a smile when he pulls your chair out for you. "Thank you so much for thinking of us after all that's happened. Thank you for paying for my stay as well, the hotel is very lovely."
"Anything for Miguel's loved ones," he smiles in a way that has a hint of Miguel. You feel better going into the rest of this meal.
GymRat!Miguel who almost chokes on his coffee before Tyler can finish his sentence.
"A yacht?!"
"Is it too much? I can do something else to your liking," Tyler frets, wiping his hands on his slacks. "I'm not sure what all kids your age like nowadays."
"I've never been on a yacht. so I don't even know how to react," Miguel responds.
The two of them are sporting the same deer-in-headlights look.
"I'm sure it would be a great experience for all of us. If everyone doesn't mind, I'm sure we can get together and have a great time," you say, helping the two of them out. "Something nice to start the summer off."
"That's great! I will have everything ready by the beginning of next month then," Tyler says, mood lifting immediately. He was a lot like a golden retriever. "With that in order, I'd like to grant you this."
He takes his wallet out, reaching in to grab a card.
As he slides it across the table, your eyes grow big.
It's a black card with T. Stone pressed across the bottom.
"What's this for?" Miguel asks, staring at the card with building curiosity.
"You all need clothes for the trip, don't you?" Tyler asks. "And I'm sure you need more clothes to wear this week. Please take this, I don't mind. I trust you not to go overboard. I'll let you know when to give it back."
Miguel took the card in his hands, the weight of it heavier than any of his own.
"I guess it's time for a shopping spree," Miguel said, a smile growing on his face.
GymRat!Miguel who drives you straight to the mall. The windows are down as you both laugh and sing to the song on the radio. Miguel wishes he could record this moment, but for now, he dials it back to replay in his memory.
GymRat!Miguel who is happy to carry your bags and encourages you to buy more. Whenever you start to feel like you've gone overboard, he just whispers "black card" in your ear like a devil on your shoulder.
GymRat!Miguel who convinces you to walk around the name-brand stores. He did have Tyler's card, but he was also thoroughly watching what you gravitated towards. He locked away so many gift ideas for later.
GymRat!Miguel who joins you in the mirror of a shades shop. The both of you take pictures with coordinating glasses and you giggle as Miguel makes silly faces in some of them.
GymRat!Miguel who becomes your doll as you pick out outfits for him. He's smiling down at you as you put different shirts up to his body, mumbling to yourself as you make decisions. So pretty.
GymRat!Miguel who waits while you try on some clothes, giddy whenever you show him a new outfit. You managed to find clothes that coordinated with his and you're super excited about it.
"Close your eyes!" you yell through the door.
He does so and listens for you to walk out. After you take a while, he opens his eyes a little.
"Baby, no peeking," you chastise.
He huffs and waits a little longer.
"Ok. 1, 2, 3, open!"
His eyes land on you in a dress that hugs your curves like no other. Your chest fills out the top perfectly and seeing your stomach through the front is driving him mad.
"Do you like it?" you turned around, giving Miguel a grand view of how your ass was sitting in the dress.
"Do the dressing rooms have a time limit?"
You blink at him owlishly, "No? Why?"
GymRat!Miguel who drags all of your bags and you back inside of the dressing room with lightning speed. As soon as he locks the door, he's attached to your lips, kneading at your ass and hips.
You gasp in his mouth, shocked at how fast he's moving.
"Miguel, what- oh," you sigh as he leans down and pulls your dress up, face buried in your neck.
"You look so good, mi amor. I can't help it."
GymRat!Miguel who almost cums when you pull his dick out. Your eyes grow along with his erection, watching as he twitches in your hold. You've never taken anyone this big and from your hesitance, Miguel can gather this much.
"We don't have to do anything. In fact, you don't have to do that here," he pants.
"You mean take you down my throat?" you ask, running your thumb over his head, watching in awe as liquid seeped out. Miguel bit his hand to quiet his moans. "I'll wait until we're somewhere more private and less noticeable that I'm on my knees for you."
Miguel looks at the open space under the dressing room door, "Yeah that's probably for the best."
GymRat!Miguel who places you in front of him, both of you facing the mirror. Your dress is bunched up and Miguel is rocking his cock in between your thighs.
He's bent down, biting lightly on your shoulder so that he doesn't shout. Your thighs were so warm and plush against him and his pre-cum was spewing out of him like a fountain.
"You feel so fucking good, baby," he moans a little too loud after a few minutes.
GymRat!Miguel who watches you in the mirror. Your tits were so close to slipping from the top of your dress, the impact from his hips jerking your entire body. He grabbed at both of them, watching as you moan at the contact. His slaps got louder and louder, milky fluid running down your legs.
GymRat!Miguel who is overcome with need when you turn and run your tongue across his earlobe. He convulses as his release spurts across the room, landing on the mirror. He grips your hips and breathes hard into your skin, the tempo of his heart moving quick.
You pat his head and praise him, heavy eyes following your hand as you rub his tip that's still rubbing through your thighs. He whines, sensitive, but not moving away from you.
GymRat!Miguel who wipes you down carefully with some wipes you have in your purse. Luckily you both haven't ruined yet another pair of underwear.
He kisses you softly when he finishes, little confessions of love traveling from his lips to yours.
GymRat!Miguel who checks the dressing room one last time, making sure he's gotten any evidence of his removed from the area. Your green dress is in his arms and you've changed back to your outfit.
The area is clean, but there are fresh hickeys on your neck, something he got carried away with.
GymRat!Miguel who walks out like nothing happened. You on the other hand, hand over some extra clothes you didn't like to a worker in slight embarrassment. He eyes you both with a look of horror.
GymRat!Miguel who feeds you Auntie Anne's in the crowded food court. You hum happily after each bite. He dusts cinnamon off the corner of your lips with a smile.
GymRat!Miguel who moves from dusting to leaning across the table to lick the crumbs off when a table full of guys keeps eying you.
"What was that for?" you asked, oblivious to the hound dogs around you.
"Nothing. I just love you, baby."
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dividers by: @plutism 🩵
a/n: I got a very useful lesson on condoms and BJs while writing this chapter. It won't ever be applied to this fic, BUT it was still kinda fun nonetheless.
HOPE YOU ENJOYED!! Leave a like, a reblog, and COMMENTS if you did!!! 🩵
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Text
Just one kiss | Lloyd Hansen
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// Pairing //
-> DrugDealer!Lloyd Hansen x Innocent!Virgin!Female!Reader
// Summary //
-> Your best friend — Ransom Drysdale — asks you to buy special pills for him. You don’t know what he means and you didn’t know that the dealer isn’t like Ransom described the man.
// Wordcount //
-> 4.586 Words
// Warnings // Explicit Content
-> 18+, Minors DNI, dark content, Ransom is a dick, innocent!Reader (really innocent!), talking about drugs, manipulation, non/dub-con, Lloyd being Lloyd, blackmail, innocence kink, daddy kink, handjob, oral (male!receiving), cumming on the face, cum play, finger sucking, degrading, praises
// Authors Note //
-> I want to thank @bucks-babe for all those comments and for proofreading.
-> Written for the “Cum Together: A Community Revival Extravaganza” Event hosted by @labella420 and @stargazingfangirl18.
Prompt: Blackmail + Cum play + “See, that wasn’t so bad, was it? I think you even enjoyed it.”
// Masterlist | Lloyd Hansen Masterlist //
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     “Come one, please! He is so nice and I just ask you for that favor. Best friends do that for their best friends, princess,” Ransom says, pouting slightly when you still look unsure about his ask.
     You play with your fingers, sliding them over the short pink skirt you’re wearing because your best friend asked you to do so. Aren’t you already a good best friend because you always wear what Ransom asks you to wear?
     “Ransom, I—I don’t know. I’ve never bought something from him. And m—my parents always say to not get too close to him — to Lloyd Hansen,” you say, his name only a whisper afraid that someone could hear you.
     “Princess, I wouldn’t ask when it wouldn’t really mean something to me,” he says, his hand finds its place on your bare thigh and you shiver slightly under his soft touch. “I will give you the money, please.”
     “Why don’t you go there yourself?” You ask, looking at him suspiciously. He chuckles, his fingers dig into your soft skin and you hiss softly about his sudden roughness.
     “Lloyd and I, uhm, we had some differences in the past and he told me to piss off,” Ransom confesses, scratching the back of his neck.
     It wasn't a lie, Lloyd doesn’t really like Ransom but the actual reason he wants you to go there is because sweet, innocent girls like you get better offers than Ransom would get.
     “Don’t you love me, princess?” Your best friend asks, his smile fades away and he tilts his head down, avoiding your gaze. He also removes his hand from your thigh, causing your heart to ache. You don’t like to offend your best friend, especially not to make him sad just because of something he asks you to buy.
     “I do love you, Ran,” you mumble, moving closer to capture his cheeks with your hands. You lift his head so he has to look into your eyes and then you kiss his nose, smirking when he does. “I will buy it for you, what do you want me to buy?”
     “Some special pills. Nothing big, just tell him that you want a small bag of special pills, then Lloyd knows what you ask for, princess,” Ransom says, his grin back on his lips. You nod, letting go of his cheeks and crawl into his lap, cuddling into him, while he wraps his arms around your small body and pulls you closer.
     You’re such a good girl for him, he loves how innocent you are — his sweet girl would do everything he asks for when he just plays the right cards. He loves it, his dick loves your innocence not less. It’s growing and throbbing in his pants while you cuddle you cuddle yourself into his tall, muscular body.
     “Ran! You forgot your keys in your pocket!” You complain, rolling your eyes playfully. Ransom laughs, pulling you even closer and leans down to your ear.
     “That’s not my key, princess. That’s my cock,” he mumbles, causing your eyes to widen and shift slightly. No matter where you try to sit you have his cock point into your ass or back.
     Every slight movement on his lap makes Ransom groan and his dick growing even more. “Why isn’t it moving to the side?”
     Fuck! Your innocence makes him go crazy and he just wants to destroy your little pussy, wants to fill you with his cum and make you come and scream over his cock over and over again. Tears would stream down your cheeks but you would beg for more and he would gladly give it to you, fucking you until you’re nothing but a whimpering mess underneath him.
     “Don’t you know what that is? My cock.” He asks, raising his eyebrow when you shake your head ashamed. Ransom smirks even wider, his fingers draw small circles on your back, grinning you over his hard cock. “I will explain it to you at some point but first you go to Lloyd and buy what I asked you to buy.”
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     Ransom brought you to Lloyd’s house, even when it’s more like a mansion. A cold shiver runs along your spine when Ransom lets you step out of the car, hurrying you to finally drive to a park slot on the side.
     “What happened between you and Lloyd actually, why doesn't he want you to buy something?” You ask innocently while you don’t make a move to get out of the car.
     Sweat is running his face down when he looks in all directions. Would Lloyd see him near his mansion he would probably torture him until he begs for forgiveness. “I— uhm. I accidentally shot him in his ass.”
     You giggle, then you get out of the car and wave with a soft smile at Ransom before you make your way along the path to the big building. Your hands start to sweat and you press them against the skirt as an attempt to cover more of your bare legs.
     Lloyd watches you already from the window, his tongue slides over his lips, while he smirks. So innocent. He groans quietly, turning around to make his way to a chair in the middle of the room. He fucking loves to see those girls all sweet standing there and asking him nicely and cute for some special pills — going to parties with them but you? You look so different, so innocent, so untouched.
     His dick is growing when he’s deepening his thoughts about what he could do with you, letting you twirl for him, lifting your skirt. He wants to see you, all of you — you’re so different to all these other girls.
     But his thoughts get interrupted when someone is knocking at the door, when he growls a low ‘yes’ you open the door and look at him. His hair is slicked back, mustache and white pants with a shirt — exactly how everyone describes him. He smirks at you, leaning back in his chair, his legs spread open and his hands resting on his thighs.
     “Come in, little one,” he tells you. His eyes are roaming over your body and you want to make yourself even smaller. With a short movement you close the door behind you and walk further toward him.
     “H—Hi,” you mumble, looking down, your shoes suddenly the most interesting thing you have ever seen. The creaking noise of the chair makes your eyes widen, hearing him walking closer to you, your body tenses and a quiet whimper leaves your lips.
      “What can I do for such a sweet girl like you?” He sounds nice, not like your parents told you. His hand grasps your chin, tilting your head back so you have to look into his eyes, he is grinning down at you, while he leans closer and there are only inches between your faces.
     “I— My best friend — Ransom. H—He wants me to buy some special pills for him,” you explain, body trembling under the intense gaze of the older man. Lloyd smirks, his hands finding their way to your hips and he pulls you flat against his muscular chest.
     “Mhm, Ransom?” He asks, knowing exactly who he is. When you nod, his grin widens and he pulls you with him closer to the chair. You’re too focused not to just turn around and run out of the building so you don’t really realize that Lloyd leads you to the chair where he lets himself fall down and holds you still between his thick, muscular thighs. “Are you his girl, little one?”
     “N—No, he is my best friend,” you mumble, looking at your hands. Even though Lloyds hands are warm and his grip is firm, you still feel uncomfortable there. The building is so big, there aren’t many people you have seen and the owner of that mansion is holding you just inches away from him by your hips.
     “You’re his best friend, know your parents. Strict ones, do they know that their pretty girl is visiting me here? Do your parents know you’re here, little one?” He asks, and you shake your head slowly.
     Your parents would never allow you to visit Lloyd Hansen, he is famous — famous for drugs and illegal things. “Please, don’t tell them. You won’t tell them, right?”
     “Mhm— but you need to give me something for that then, can you do this?” His voice is soft and the smile on his face widens. He pulls you onto his thigh, moving your hips slowly forward and backward before he stops and lifts his one hand to grasp your chin once again. He tilts your head up, looking straight into your eyes and you feel like he can look into your soul.
     “Do you want more money?” You ask, so innocently that his dick is hurting while it presses against the fabric of his white pants.
     “No, can you give me something else?” He asks, fingers digging into your waist while he holds your chin still with his other hand to look into your eyes. His cock twitches when you whimper softly, thinking about something you could offer him.
    “W—What do you want to have?” His grin widens, when it's even possible. He just waited for you to ask that unless you tell him what he wants to hear. But since you’re just as innocent as you look he is glad you asked him what he would like to have so he won’t tell your parents about your little visit in the Hansen mansion.
     “Kiss me,” he mumbles, leaning back while he lets go of your chin and places that hand on your waist as well. Your eyes widen and you whimper, shaking your head.
     “Please, I—I never kissed someone, not even sure how that works. C—Can I just give you more money?” You try but he just ignores your attempts to convince him to give him something else.
     “Little one, I’m rich. I don’t need what you offer me. You have two opportunities. First; you give me what I want. Second; I take what I want,” he explains, grinding you on his thigh. A tingling feeling erupts between your legs and you try to press them together causing Lloyd to chuckle darkly. “I always get what I want, pretty girl. And look how needy you are, clenching your tights like a desperate slut.”
     “I’m not a slut!” You raise your eyebrow until his grip tightens and you immediately blush. You don’t want to upset him, scared of him. Your body still trembles slightly but the pressure between your legs grows especially when he just holds you, instead of grinding you on his thigh to give you some relief.
     “I know, you’re a pretty innocent girl.” He sits up, straight and your lips are suddenly so close that you can feel his warm breath on your skin. Lloyd groans when you move closer against him, your pussy rubbing over his hard cock and your eyes widen.
     “I—Is that also your cock? R—Ransoms was hard too earlier,” you tell him, looking down where you just feel his hard bulge pressing against you. A low chuckle leaves his lips, causing you to look into his eyes again.
     “That’s my cock, when you kiss me already you can see it. Do you want to see it?” You nod slightly, and he feels his cock twitch once again. Your innocence makes him go crazy, you’re on his lap, willing to kiss him so he won’t tell your parents that you are visiting him. And willing so you can see his throbbing cock.
     Even when you would have said no, he already knew the kiss isn’t everything he wants from you. When such a sweet and innocent girl walks into his mansion and makes his cock painfully hard and throbbing he will definitely use that to fuck you or at least have you suck off his cock.
     You lean slightly forward, you don’t know why but something changes inside of you and you feel comfortable around Lloyd and you really want to see his cock since Ransom wasn’t explaining it to you. So you press your lips softly against his, just a moment before you pull back and giggle softly.
         “Your mustache tickles, Mr. Hansen,” you say, reaching out your hand to slide your fingers over his mustache. You're so perfect for him, so innocent but still so confident when you feel comfortable. He is sure he won’t let you go that easy; you’re his now — his little one, Lloyd's pretty girl.
     “Was that a kiss, little one? Give Daddy a real kiss,” he asks, raising his eyebrow when you nod slowly. He laughs, capturing your cheeks with his hands and pulling you closer, his lips pressing on yours with such force that you gasp. You part your lips slightly, and Lloyd uses the moment to slip his tongue into your mouth, causing you to moan.
     You press him by his chest away, his cheeks heating up, and you look down at your lap. “I’m sorry, I—I didn’t want to moan.”
     “Ahh, pretty girl. Let me hear you moan again, yeah?” Before you can answer, he presses his lips against yours once again. His hands slide to your back and lower down until he grabs your ass, squeezing harshly and causing another moan to leave your lips.
     When he lets you pull away, you breathe heavily, your hands resting on his muscular chest while you look into his eyes. They are a little darker than before, filled with an emotion you have seen in Ransom's eyes sometimes — mostly when his hand slid up your leg underneath your skirt until you moved away from your best friend with a questioning look.
    Lloyd's hands are still capturing your cheeks. He smirks at you, his eyes roaming down your body to your chest, biting his lip before his gaze slides lower to your short skirt. “Do your parents know that you look like a little desperate slut with such short skirts?” 
     “N—No, Ransom asked me to wear it for him. Don’t you like it?” Lloyd chuckles, one hand making its way to your skirt, and he slips it underneath the fabric, stroking the soft skin of your thigh. He groans, his fingers moving closer to your panties, but you grasp his arm just before his fingertip is touching your pussy.
     “It looks pretty, little one. Now get up so I can show you my cock. What do you think?” He asks softly before pushing you off his lap. You immediately stand up and wait in front of him while he unbuckles his belt and lets his white pants fall down his thick, muscular thighs.
     In his boxers is a big bulge, and you guess that’s what he meant. What you didn’t think of was that he was going to push the fabric down as well. His weeping cock slaps against his stomach; the tip is red, and a vein is running along the underside of his huge length.
     “You can touch it, pretty girl.” You shake your head, just looking at his length, before you look him in the eyes again. “Do you want me to tell your parents that you’re going out in such a slutty outfit that you were sitting on my lap and kissing me?”
     “P—Please, don't tell them,” you say quietly, a small pout on your lips. Lloyd chuckles, leaning forward to kiss your lips, kissing the pout softly away. Then he places his pants between the two on the ground before he pushes you by your shoulders down until you’re on your knees, looking up at him with your innocent gaze.
     “Take it in your hand. Wrap your little fingers around Daddy's huge cock. Can you do that?” He asks so softly that you nod and lift your arms, placing one on his thick thigh.
      “But you’re not my daddy, Mr. Hansen,” you mumble, looking at him with your innocent and now slightly confused gaze.
     “I’m your daddy now, little one. I take care of you, don’t I?” When you slightly nod he grins wide and points at his hard, leaking cock. You bring your other hand to his cock and wrap your fingers around his hard cock.
     Lloyd groans, throwing his head back when your soft skin touches his cock. He then looks back down at you, waiting for you to move your hand, but you're just sitting there and staring at his cock in your hand. His dick twitches in your hand, more pre-cum leaking down his red tip when he thinks about everything he could do with you — taking your virginity and making you his — Lloyds Hansen’s pretty girl.
    “Move your hand, little one.” You look up; your eyes widen when he gives you more instructions. You thought he would let you go after you kissed him, so why does he want you to move your hand around his cock?
     “But you said only a kiss,” you mumble, your eyes watering — your emotions are overwhelming; you feel so embarrassed, but at the time, you don’t want Lloyd to tell your parents that you’re here. And his cock feels not bad in your hand either. He places his hand around yours, grip tightens while he moves your hand up and down his thick length.
     “Good girl,” Lloyd praises, his hand tightening even more around yours and his cock, while he picks up the pace. He groans, his hips thrusting up when you move your hand at a slow pace up and down his cock. “Doin’ so well, little on. Now let's try something else: open your mouth and take my dick into your mouth.
    “No, Mr. Hansen, please. I’ve never done that before; I—I don’t think I wanna do that,” you say, quietly and not looking up. Your grip around his cock loosens, and you place both of your hands on your thighs.
    “You don’t want to?” He asks, his voice dangerously sweet, and you shiver lightly. When you shake your head, he grasps your hair, tugging harshly at it and making you look at him. “I don't care; you're gonna suck my cock, or I will tell your parents that you begged me to fuck you, want that? Want your parents to know that you’re nothing but a little whore?”
     You don't really listen to him; your thoughts are running wild, and tears are building in your eyes, making their way slowly down your cheeks. Lloyd wipes his thumb over your cheeks to wipe the tears away; they just turn him on even more — he didn't know you could turn him on even more, but you do. His other hand is still tugging painfully at your hair.
    “Then be a good girl and do what Daddy asks for. Now take it in your mouth, or I will make you take it,” he groans, waiting a moment for you to move, but you just sit there, quietly crying and staring at his cock. Lloyd sighs, pushing your head closer to his cock and wrapping his own hand around his base. He brings his cock to your lips, smearing his pre-cum over them before he pushes his tip between your lips.
     “Come on, pretty girl,” he says, raising one of his eyebrows before he taps his hand softly on your cheek until you open your mouth wider and he is able to push his cock into your mouth.
    Lloyd doesn’t give you much time before he shoves his cock down your throat. You immediately gag around his length, your fingers digging into his thick thighs while he holds you in place for a moment. Your eyes water, and you try to pull away, but the older man’s grin is too tight for you to move away.
     “Fuck, pretty mouth feeling so good,” he growls, pulling out of you and giving you a moment to inhale deeply.
     “Please, don’t; it’s so big,” you whimper, trying to push him away from you. But at your next attempt to say something, he shoves his huge length into your mouth and down your throat again. Your teeth scratch along his soft skin, causing him to buck his hips forward.
     He pulls you off his cock, leaning forward until his face is next to yours. Lloyd is biting into your earlobe, causing you to yelp. “Open your mouth wider, like the good slut you are for me.”
     “B—But your cock is so big, Daddy,” you whimper, tears falling down your cheeks. When he pulls you back and smirks at you, causing you to be slightly scared — he looks so soft and at the same time something dark is glistening in his eyes and expression.
     “You will get used to it. Fuck— should keep you just for me; what do you think, little one?” He asks, chuckling when you try to shake your head. You open your mouth wider when he presses the tip of his cock against your lips. Lloyd shoves his cock into your mouth, smirking proudly when your teeth aren’t scratching against his huge dick. You’re once again gagging around his length; the tears are falling down your cheeks, and saliva is dripping down your mouth. “Daddy told you he gets what he wants. And when he wants to keep you, then he will! So be good and suck my dick and breathe through your nose.”
     Your nails dig almost painfully into the skin of his thigh, grounding yourself. When you breathe through your nose like he told you, you don’t gag that much around his cock anymore. He thrusts every now and then his hips, resting his dick in your mouth before he pulls out to give you a moment to breathe deeply.
     You look with such an innocent gaze at Lloyd that he feels like he has to come immediately. Your saliva drips down, landing on your thighs, while his whole cock is covered in it as well. Lloyd growls, fucking your mouth harshly, your tongue licking the underside of his cock, while you swallow his length down your throat — you’re the best and sweetest girl he could have imagined when you walked into his mansion earlier.
      He looks down at you, meeting your innocent eyes. You look adorable with his cock down your throat. “Taking my cock like the good girl you are for me, huh?”
     After a few more thrusts, he pushes out, and you look at him, confused. Maybe you did something wrong? “Did I do something wrong? Didn’t it feel good?”
   Suddenly, you just want to make him feel good; you want him to praise you — calling you his good girl, and give him what he is asking for.
     “You did so well for me, swallowing my cock like a good girl. But I wanna come all over your face — want to paint your face with my cum,” he tells you, smirking when you look even more confused. “Let Daddy take care of it."
     You nod, looking at his length, which is covered in your saliva when he wraps his hand around it. He then moves his hand at a steady pace, his hand wiping over his tip. It looks hot when he does that, panting and fucking his hand, his cock twitching, and he almost hits your face when he thrusts forward.
      His lips are parted, and the veins on his arm are poking out while he looks at you, groaning loudly. “Open your mouth and stick your tongue out!”
      You do as he says and stick out your tongue. He grins at you, jerking himself off over your tongue. With a loud growl and a harsh thrust into his hand, he comes all over your face. His cum shoots out of his red tip, landing on your tongue and all over your face, while he fucks himself through the orgasm.
     “Looking so sexy with my cum all over your pretty face, pretty girl,” he says, letting go of his cock and reaching out to graze his fingers with his cum. He then brings them to your mouth and pushes them between your lips. “Lick them clean.”
     You twirl your tongue around his fingers, cleaning his fingers and tasting his salty cum. You hum satisfied, addicted to his taste.
     “See, that wasn’t so bad, was it? I think you even enjoyed it,” he says, fingers still in your mouth, pushing your tongue down. He then removes them and grazes them in his cum once again, this time he licks then cleans himself, tongue curling around his digits. His other hand grasps your chin, his thumb pushing into your mouth and you immediately suck at it. “So good for Daddy, huh? I should give you a reward, don’t you think?”
     Your eyes widen and you nod, not exactly knowing what he means, but it doesn’t sound bad. And even though he can be a bit rough sometimes, he is still really nice and sweet with you.
     “Get up, so I can pick you up and we can continue in my bedroom,” he says softly, and you immediately obey. When you stand in front of him, he leans down, pressing his lips softly against yours before he picks you up. His hands rest underneath your ass, squeezing your cheeks while he walks out of the room.
     “B—But Ransom is waiting for me outside in the car,” you mumble, pulling away from Lloyd to look into his beautiful blue eyes. You haven’t recognized the bit of green in them, but it looks beautiful, and you get lost in them for a moment.
     Lloyd smirks. One of his hands lets go of you, but you hold yourself with your legs wrapped around his waist. He looks for his phone, which is placed on a small shelf. He takes it and unlocks it. Lloyd taps a few times on his phone before you hear the familiar sound when you call someone.
     “Princess?” Ransom's voice comes through the loudspeaker. You giggle, placing your head on his shoulder while you wrap your arms around his neck, inhaling his intoxicating scent.
     “Not exactly, but she is here. She is fine. Calm down. I will take care of my pretty girl, won’t I, little one?” Lloyd says, chuckling, before he squeezes your ass once again. You giggle, making Ransom gasp. “Brought me such a sweet and innocent girl; I guess I will keep her here. Make her my Mrs. Hansen.”
     Before Ransom can say something, Lloyd hangs up and places his phone on the nightstand next to his bed. You haven’t noticed that you’re already in his room, but you smirk when he places you on his bed, kissing your lips before he moves down to your neck. He is sucking and biting softly on your sensitive skin.
     “Now let’s get you out of your clothes and show Daddy your pretty body, all mine. Understand, you’re mine, pretty girl,” he says, looking at you. You pull him closer, pressing your lips against his, and let his tongue explore your mouth while his hands roam over your body, causing a tingling in your pussy. He grins, already thinking about the way he will claim you and make you his — his pretty girl.
     He really likes you, falling slowly for you — your sweetness and innocence steal his heart from him, and he gladly gives it to you. Even though he isn’t used to take care of someone he just fucked but he gladly takes care of his pretty girl.
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// Taglist //
@kandis-mom @sergeantbarnessdoll @identity2212 @km-ffluv @lunaalovesyouu @blackhawkfanatic @armystay89 @suz7days @etherealdisneyvillainness @pono-pura-vida @bookishtheaterlover7 @rogersbarber @sebastianstanisahotmf
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intoxicated-chan · 1 day
Note
Daryl Dixon request! You and Daryl have just recently got together a few months ago! You and Daryl wander off from the group when you're on the road too look for food water ext, you both get a bit frisky and your sexual tension builds(maybe a bit of bickering), but it’s dangerous, so Daryl takes you against the tree your legs wrapped around him your back against the tree a gun in hand just in case a walker hears, but he’s also kissing you to muffle your moans 💕💕
𝐂𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐫
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Summary ➳ Daryl fucks you against the tree. (Idk what else to say) 
(A/n) ➳ I am not made to write smut! Most of one-shot is just fluff and only a couple hundred words is smut... I’m sorry.   
Word Count ➳ 1.4k 
Content Warnings ➳ Female reader, sexual content, mainly fluff, little smut, typical TWD violence, swearing, pet names (Sweetheart, darlin’), getting caught but not knowing? Unprotected sex, p-in-v, outdoor sex, creampie... 
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“I ain’t gonna say it again.” You pushed Daryl as the two of you walked through the empty streets. “Move your damn ass.”  
“Stop yer damn whinin’.” Daryl retorted. “And I know yer ass ain’t talkin’ crap when ya nearly lost yerself in places like this and I had to find ya.” Finally, he picked up his pace, just like you wanted him to do for the past two hours, maybe more. 
You rolled your eyes, arms crossed and scoffed but quickly shut yourself up when you tripped on your own feet.  
“I heard that.” Daryl commented.  
“Piss off.”  
“Swearin’ ain’t gonna scare me away sweetheart.” He chuckled and stopped, loading his crossbow as he caught sight of a lone walker. “Yer stuck with me.” He murmured, aiming the crossbow with a finger on the trigger.  
“Sadly.” You playfully sighed, standing back as you let Daryl deal with the simple threat.  
How long has it been? Three- no, four? Yes, four months. You both had strayed from the group, a habit you both developed over the past few months, much to the group’s dismay. 
“Top that.” Daryl said, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. He walked to the dead walker, putting his foot on its head to pull the arrow out of its skull. “Now, ya sure we ain’t lost?” He asked, wiping the blood from the arrow.  
You shot him a grin, unfolding your arms and placed them on your lips. “Lost? Please, I could navigate these roads blindfolded.”  
Daryl raised an eyebrow. “Remembered that happened when I left ya with Rick.”  
“Please, don’t remind me.”  
“Then stop lyin’.” 
You shook your head. “Then do you have any idea where we’re headed, Dixon?” You asked, as you pulled at the straps of your bag, trying to relieve your shoulders.  
Daryl shot you a glance, his smirk turning into a genuine smile. “Jus’ followin’ the trail, darlin’.” He answered in his trademark gravelly voice. “Ain’t like we got a map or somethin’.”  
“Well, let’s hope your tracking skills are as good as you say they are.”  
He huffed but then laughed, his eyes moving to what’s in front of them for any sign of movement. “Trust me, (Y/n), ain’t no walker gonna sneak up on us while I’m around.”  
Your smile dropped by the sound of rusting in the bushes beside the road. Daryl aimed his crossbow while you unsheathed your knife. Slowly, they approached the source of the noise, ready to attack. 
But you gasped, a small rabbit darted out from the bush, scurrying away into the distance. Daryl lowered his crossbow.  
“Looks like dinner jus’ ran off.”  
You clicked your tongue, sheathing your knife as you reached into your bag. “Guess we’ll have to settle for canned beans again.” 
The two of you decided to make camp when you noted the sunset, and you knew it would be some time before you reached the group. Daryl gathered dry twigs and branches, making a small fire.  
Sitting side by side on makeshift logs, you both shared a meal of canned beans that were heated by the flames. The fire flickered over the silence, luckily, you both were comfortable.  
Though you side eyed Daryl when he refused the spoon, he found it easier to eat with his hands. Daryl looked at you as you ate, noticing the pistol he had given you for protection wasn’t on or near you. “Where’s the gun I gave ya?”  
You hesitated for a moment, scrapping the sides of the can with your spoon. “I... I couldn’t get it to work.” You admitted sheepishly. “It feels like it’s clogged.” 
Daryl sat his half-eaten can of beans to the side and licked his fingers clean. He reached down to your bag to retrieve the pistol, examining it near the fire. His brows furrowed in concentration as he tried to find the issue.  
As he worked, you couldn’t help but stare. The way his rugged features were softened by the firelight, the way his gruff hands moved with such precision... It made you rub your thighs together.  
He was always skilled with his fingers, making you crumble and become weak with just his hands.  
“-Good to go.” Daryl’s voice made you jump, catching the pistol in time before it hit the ground. “Test it out.”  
You looked around. “Here?”  
“There’s a silencer on it for a reason.” 
“And waste bullets?”  
“Ya gonna complain or try it?”  
Daryl pointed at a tree not far but barely visible. “Try it,” he stood, motioning for you to stand. But you just stared at him. “C’mon.”  
You stood and looked where he pointed, it was a tree with a giant rock to its left side. You gripped the pistol and aimed it.  
Daryl moved behind you. “Ya gotta straighten your posture.” He murmured, his voice low, his hot breath hitting your ear. “Like this.”  
Gently, he adjusted your stance, his hands lingering on your shoulders for a moment, longer than necessary. His hands, his voice, his breath... It all sent shivers down your spinel, a sensation that sent a rush down to your cunt.  
“Is this better?” You said, your voice barely audible. 
Daryl nodded, you couldn’t see but there was a faint smirk. “Much.”  
“Should I-” You stumbled when you felt his hands come on your hips, you felt your face starting to burn. “Daryl?’ 
He hushed you. “Don’ think.” He replied softly. “Go on, fire it.”  
“I can’t.” You retorted. “Walkers are nearby-” 
Daryl snatched the gun and pushed you against a tree, you didn’t see it coming. “Guess I gotta keep ya quiet.” He muttered, leaning in. “Think I didn’t notice ya starin’? Oglin’ me? So damn desperate.”  
“Ain’t my fault.” You said, shrugging, trying to act natural. “Looking like a goddamn meal.”  
“Wanna taste?” Again, he spoke in your ear, nearly making your knees buckle.  
“Please.”  
“Then shut up.”  
He used his free hand to pull you in a kiss, the hand that held a pistol remained by the side of your head. You immediately returned the kiss, your arms wrapped around his neck.  
God, he tasted so good. He smelled so good, some fucking how. Or maybe it was your nose playing with you, but you didn’t care. You needed more of him.  
You then jumped on him, using your own strength to keep you upright. It startled Daryl as he didn’t expect it.  
Daryl's hand squeezed your ass, gaining a moan from you.  He pulled back. “Gotta keep quiet for me.” He said. “Think ya can do that?” 
Yu didn’t understand a single word that came out of his beautiful mouth, but slammed your lips against his, becoming addicted to him.  
“Do me a favor.” Daryl hummed against your neck. “Unbuckle my pants for me.”  
Maggie froze in place, lifting his hand up to stop Carol. “Did you hear that?” She murmured, it sounded like a whimper or maybe a moan.  
“Sounds like a person.” Carol responded.  
“Might be survivors.”  
Nodding in agreement, Carol followed Maggie as she cautiously followed the source of the nose. Moving slowly and carefully, her guard was on high alert.  
But she didn’t expect to see Daryl with his pants around his knees with your legs around his waist. The strap of your tank top fell past your shoulders, exposing one of your breasts.  
It looked like his lips were glued to yours, he only took a couple of moments to catch his breath before they were back on you.  
Carol sighed and covered her eyes turning away, honestly, she wasn’t surprised. She just didn’t think you both go as far as to do it out in the open.  
“That doesn’t look comfortable.” Carol commented.  
“It isn’t.” Maggie replied. “Should we-” 
“Let them get it out of their systems.” Carol grabbed Maggie’s arm to walk away.  
Daryl had you up against the tree, your back throbbing from the uneven trunk digging into your skin. Your lips are most likely swollen by now, saliva dripping down your chin. 
There was something thrilling about being fucked out in the open with danger nearby. But there wasn’t a single ounce of fear with Daryl holding the pistol. 
He felt your fingernails digging into him as he fucked you, he was getting off on it. 
Your moans were always cut off, as well as your words. He took pleasure in seeing you getting frustrated.  
Daryl felt your walls tighten around him, desperately trying to hold him in, chasing an orgasm.  
And when Daryl comes, he does it inside. He manages to go deeper than before. You slumped against Daryl, eyes shut.  
“don’ go sleepin’ on me now.” Daryl now had you standing on your feet, his only hand keeping you up as he looked around. “We got a couple hours before day. I say we use ‘em.” 
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© Intoxicated-Chan 2024, I do not allow my work to be copied, translated, modified, adapted, or put on any other platform without my permission. 
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eddiesxangel · 14 hours
Text
I Don’t Think We Are In 1986 Anymore? Part 2
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Big thanks to @allthingsjoeq @bettyfrommars @somnambulic-thing for the prompts. The Stranger Prompts - directly from the Twilight Zone.
Sort of proof read, if you see mistakes no you didn’t… Sharing is caring. Reblog and comment 💙
You have to read part 1 for this to make any sense.
Cw: time travel, modern/Henderson reader, the aftermath of the upside down/ finding out who your father is and the reunion they never thought possible. Angst, fluff, smut 18+ content, fingering (f), oral (m) p in v sex, cream pie, MDNI
wc: 10k. oops
“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god…”
"What the fuck! What the fuck! What the fuck!"
You watch and listen as your father has a mental breakdown in your open-concept kitchen. You just got off the phone with your uncle Steve, telling him to get to your place ASAP.
Your dad was stunned… and Eddie was stunned… What were the odds that Eddie would stumble into the house belonging to Dustin Henderson’s daughter?
Eddie could barely discern any similarities. You resembled the woman who came in after Dustin, and Eddie could only presume it was your mother. If he squinted, your eye shape was somewhat reminiscent of Dustin's, but even that was a stretch.
“How?! When?! Holy shit, man, you’re-you’re dead! You died in the upside down!” Your father was dumbstruck, as was your mother, because Eddie died in 1986. Everyone mourned and moved on with life. 
“The upside down?” You looked to your mom to see if she knew what the two men were discussing. It seemed that she was also withholding something from you. 
“I don’t know, man! That was only a few hours ago for me!” Eddie yelled.
“Holy shit,” your dad whispered.
“Wait. You think I’m dead? Like you guys just left me there? In that place?! With those demo-bats?” Eddie’s eyes were wide and, if you were being honest, he looked a little crazy.
“Well… I mean… so much shit was still happening!” 
Your dad was interrupted by a frivolous knocking on the door. 
You rush over to the door. Standing on the other side are your Uncle Steve and Aunt Robin, aka the woman from whom you got your nickname. 
You grab both of them before they can even say hello and drag them by their shirt sleeves. 
“Woah, Birdie, what’s going on!” 
You didn’t need to speak because you were in the kitchen before they could continue. 
You hear your aunt audibly gasp, and your uncle’s mouth hangs agape, stunned. 
There he was, a dead man walking in your kitchen, clear as day. 
“What the fuck”-“That’s not?”
“Uh, hey,” Eddie waves. 
“Holly shit,” they both say in unison. 
Before Eddie knew what was happening, Robin charged at him and wrapped him in a bear hug. 
This was weird for Eddie. He hardly knew the woman—not really. He had only spoken to her for the first time a week ago… well, a week and thirty-eight years ago. 
“Ouch!” -“Sorry!”
“What the actual fuck is going on” she pulled back, still gripping his shoulders. 
“Hey, uh, Robin.”
Her long fingers trailed up his shoulders to grab him by the face, squishing his cheeks together, not believing the sight before her. 
Despite the passing years, her youthful features still shone through. Her face was adorned with a sprinkle of freckles, her hair, still a beautiful shade of dirty blonde with some strands of silver, was now cut a little shorter, but it looked just as radiant as ever. She was unmistakably Robin, just a more mature and refined version of herself.
“Ohhhh-okay,” Eddie forced her hands off his cheeks. 
“Okay, what is going on here?” Steve spoke.
Eddie's eyes lingered on his acquaintance, taking in the lines etched into his face like a map of time. Despite the signs of age, he still looked strikingly handsome, with broad shoulders and a sturdy frame that spoke of years of hard work. His hair, once a wild mop, was now tamed into a close-cropped salt-and-pepper buzz cut. Eddie couldn't help but admire how his friend had aged with dignity and grace, and he felt a twinge of envy at his own mortality.
“One minute, we're in the upside-down fighting off those… those creatures,” Eddie looks to your dad, “and the next…” Eddie waved his hands above his head before flinching from the pain of the bat bites. “I was here!” 
“I don’t understand,” Robin said. 
“You think I do?!” He looked at her. 
“Woah, guys, let’s just calm down,” Steve tried to defuse the room. 
“Calm down? I just learned everyone left me for dead.” Eddie’s voice hitched. 
God, you had a lot of questions. 
“Come on, man, we couldn’t go back without another one of us dying. You stopped breathing in my arms! I swore you had died. I-I-I,” Dustin stammered.
You had never seen your father so distraught. 
“Fuck, come here, man” Eddie reached out to hug his friend. 
It had been mere hours to Eddie, but for his friends, it had been years of mourning and grieving, the acceptance that Eddie Munson was gone from the world. 
“What are you guys talking about?” You ask, breaking the moment. 
“Not now, honey,” your dad spoke, wiping a stray tear. 
“Yes, now!” You screamed. “What are you all talking about? Leaving him for dead? Fighting off creatures? Bats? I saw his wounds! A bat did not make that so. What. happened. in. 1986? And do not tell me an earthquake…” 
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After a long explanation, you still could not understand what the most important people in your life had been keeping from you for twenty-eight years. 
“So that brings us to now…” Dustin looked at Eddie. “Tell us exactly what you remember.” 
“I was with you,” he said, pointing to your dad. “And the bats got me; I passed out, I guess because I didn’t remember anything, and when I woke up, I was in the trailer park, but it wasn’t the trailer park anymore… I was here.” 
“There must be an explanation… do you think a gate is open now?” Steve spoke. 
“Not possible; that was closed years ago.” 
“Wait, so what happened to Vecna?” Eddie asked. 
“El dealt with him; he’s long gone.” 
“Wait… Aunt Jane?” You clarified. 
“Yes,” the group confirmed. 
You still cannot believe what the fuck was going on? How everyone seemed so casual about the topic of supernatural occurrences happening in the eighties. 
“I think I need to lie down…” you excuse yourself from the conversation. 
This was too much, too overwhelming. How were you to believe all of this? The evidence was right in front of you… Eddie had time-travelled, and your family confirmed that. 
“Birdie honey, I’m sorry; I never wanted you to learn about all the shit we went through.” Your father pulled you in for a hug before you got too far. 
You needed a second to collect your thoughts, so you went to your living room to lay on your couch. 
You replay the details of what just sprung on you. A man with supernatural powers wanted to take over the town of Hawkins, Indiana, and your aunt, who also has supernatural powers, defeated him. Your dad and his friends, your aunts and uncles, helped. Your super nerdy, uncool father helped save the world. And Eddie, their dead friend, was now alive; somehow time travelled unknowingly and is sitting in your kitchen…
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You’re unsure how much time has passed, but you feel the couch dip by your feet. 
“Hey,” a deep voice you’ve now recognized as Eddie filled the empty room. 
“Hey,” you open your eyes and face him. 
“I uh… I just wanted to thank you for everything. You’re being super cool about all of this, about not calling the police on me, calling Dustin- uh, your Dad-that’s so fucking weird to say- I’m glad it was your home I broke into.” He fiddled with the hem of the borrowed shirt you lent him. 
“I wouldn’t say I’m being cool. Honestly, I’m freaking out, but you’re welcome.” You half-heartedly smile. 
“If it makes you feel any better, I’m just as freaked out about this whole mess as you are… in the same boat and all, I guess.”
You hum with acceptance.
When you finally came around and decided to get off the couch, Eddie had already returned to the group's elders, and you walked in on their conversation. 
“Oh, god! Wayne?! Is he? Where?” Eddie couldn’t believe this was the first time he thought of his uncle’s whereabouts. 
“I’m so sorry, Ed.” Dustin couldn’t look him in the eye as he spoke. 
“He’s… what happened?” His voice shook. 
“We would visit from time to time over the years; he found a wife, he never stopped talking about you, he loved you.” Robin smiled as tears welled. 
“The uh… the smoking caught up to him. Lung cancer. He was diagnosed about ten years ago. He fought it for a long time but passed in 2019.” you hear your dad sigh. “…but even if he were still alive, Eddie, you’d sure give him a heart attack if he saw you,” Dustin chides 
“No… yea... No, I guess he would be almost ninety-four now…” Eddie sniffles, trying to hide his glossy eyes.
Not even five hours into living in the future, and it sucked immensely; who knows if he would get to go back home to his time. you felt for him your heart yearned to hug him and tell him it was all going to be okay, but you just met the guy.
“I’m sorry, Eddie.” Your dad touched his shoulder, and your mom looked at him sorrowfully. Like you, she had never met the man your dad idolized. 
As a kid, you were told stories of the great Eddie the Banished, and you worshiped what your father told you about him. But now, seeing the real man in the flesh, wounded, scared, and confused, humanized him. You felt so sorry for him; you wanted to do all you could to help him. 
“Ed, I think we should take you to a hospital,” Steve spoke, breaking the tension. 
“How? I don’t exist. I can’t pay for anything.”
“We have insurance and money; we can pay for it,” Steve rebutted. 
“What if someone recognized me?” 
“What if we gave you a makeover?” You suggested. 
“Absolutely not.” 
“My daughter is right, Eddie; you stick out like a soar thumb.” 
“What do I need to change?” He asks hesitantly. 
“The hair,” you nod. 
“No."
"Not like all of it, but, you know... shorter" You cocked your head, amazing his features.
He was very handsome, and you were attracted to him more than you would care to admit. You should not feel like this toward your dad's friend. Technically, he was thirty years your senior, but you were older than him in the real world.
Eventually, you will accept your supernatural time-travelling weird-ass family secret, but for now, you need to focus on Eddie healing and looking like he was from this century. 
You take to your phone for inspiration. Tapping away on the touch screen, Eddie is memorized by the new technology before him. 
“Can you uh- show me that stuff?” He points to your phone in your hands. 
“Yeah, of course,” you blush; Eddie's intense gaze on you didn’t go unnoticed by your overbearing father. 
“Woah woah woah, no—nope,” Dustin spoke as he wedged between you and the time-travelling man.
“Dad!” You scold.
“What are you even talking about, man?” 
“I know you, Eddie,” your father gave him a stern look. 
“I had no idea what you’re talking about?” he shook his head. But he was lying. He thought you were hot; there was no denying that. It was weird that you were Dustin’s offspring, but did that matter to Eddie? No. He has experienced much weirder these past few days.
“Let’s focus people.” Steve snapped. “Makeover—than a hospital.”
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After some internet sleuthing, you and Eddie decided on a haircut you both agreed on. 
“You trust me?” You raise your brows. 
“No, but I don’t really have a choice.” He looked at your overprotective father, hovering, not leaving the two of you unsupervised. 
“Dad, there is not enough room in the bathroom for all of us. Can you leave?” You sass. 
“No funny business,” he points.
"No funny business? The girl has scissors to my head." 
“Mooooooom,” you call for her to help.  
This was ridiculous. You’re a grown woman who can make her own choices, and Eddie is injured; that’s probably the last thing on his mind… and he’s probably not even thinking about you like that. So what could possibly happen? 
You turn to Eddie with a smile as your mom drags away your father. 
As you work away chopping at his hair, rewinding, and re-watching the tutorial off TikTok, you are not paying attention to Eddie's reaction to cutting his hair. If you looked down, you would see a man in pure heaven, blissed out by your touch. To see Eddie's eyes close when your fingers run through his hair. Eddie hadn’t had someone touch his hair in years, not since he first started growing it out. Fully immersion making sure his hair is even, you also don’t notice that you’re standing between his legs and your tits are sat directly at Eddie’s eye level, bouncing around in your tank top, as your arms work above his head. 
Eddie tried hard not to stare; that’s another reason why his eyes were closed, but here he was, basking in your touch while fighting with himself to keep his eyes from zeroing in on your chest. He felt overwhelmed by you in the best way possible, your delicate voice and gentle touch mixed with your sweet-smelling perfumes and hair products. It didn’t take much for Eddie to get wrapped up in you. You had been so kind to him; he was so scared this morning. He was scared of the pain of his injuries; he was alone and the fact that he was no longer in his proper time. 
You made him feel comfortable and safe, but you also made him nervous because he is attracted to you. Once the fright wore off and the calm washed over him when you offered your shower and food, it was instant; how couldn’t he fall for your beauty? 
“What about my face?” Eddie speaks, his eyes still baring into your chest. 
“What about it?” As you step back, your eyes are drawn to the man beneath you. You can't help but admire the striking features that define his face. You trimmed his unruly, chocolate-brown hair, but it still falls in gentle waves that frame his face beautifully. The freckles that dot his cheeks and nose add a touch of playfulness to his otherwise serious expression. But it's his eyes. Those are what captivate you the most. Thick, dark lashes frame deep, earthy-toned irises that seem to hold a whole other world. You can't help but feel a sense of awe at the sight of him.
“Should I shave?” She cocks his head, a few wet tendrils fall on his forehead, and you can’t help but admire his beauty. His scratched face bore a five-o-clock shadow; the circles under his eyes only darkened as the hours passed. However, it only made his deep brown orbs that much more compelling.
“No,” you smile. “I like the scruff.” 
You step back again to admire your work, and Eddie’s eyes awkwardly try to look everywhere but you. 
“Okay, I think we are good,” you smile as you run your fingers through his curls again with a bit more holding mousse. 
Eddie holds back a whimper when your fingers are no longer in contact with his scalp, but he swallows it and stands up off the chair to look in the mirror. 
He smirks at the soft mullet look you’ve given him. It’s still a nod to the eighties but more modern. It’s long still, but he reluctantly doesn’t hate it. 
“I don’t have anything to tip you with,” he awkwardly giggles. 
“That’s okay. You can thank me later.” 
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“SHIT” 
“What? What's wrong?” Eddie whipped his head around. He hated hospitals.
“It’s Andy.”
“As in Jason’s friend Andy? As in, Andy that tried killing me, Andy?” 
“Yea, he’s a doctor now.” 
“Fuck” Eddie whispered under his breath. 
“Ok, new plan. You’re my nephew, and your name is Jeremy.” Dustin removed his glasses and put them on Eddie as an extra disguise. 
“Jeremy?” 
“Jeremy.” 
“Dude no, that—“
“How can I help you, gentleman, this afternoon?” Andy. Dr. Andy pushed aside the curtain. 
“He was out hiking and was attacked by a… a….” Dustin stumbled. 
“Bobcat,” Eddie finished. 
“A bobcat in Hawkins?” Dr. Andy raised a brow in question. 
“I was up north. I patched it up, but I thought it should be looked at.” Eddie cleared his throat. 
“OK, let’s take a look. Where is the injury.” He puts down his tablet and watches how Eddie lifts up his shirt, revealing the amateur job you’ve done. 
“It’s also on my leg, but it’s uh, this is the worst of it.” he clears his throat, wincing as Andy peels back the medical tape. 
He lets out a whistle as he examines Eddie’s torso. 
“A bobcat you say?” 
Eddie nods his head silently. 
“Okay, it looks like it’s been cleaned pretty well. You did a good job, but I’ll have to suture some of the gashes that are still bleeding. Andy looks at Eddie and really looks at him this time. 
“Do I?  What did you say your name is?” 
“Jeremy Potter, my nephew! On my wife’s side.” Dustin interrupted. 
Eddie gave him a look to cool it. He was so jumpy it would be suspicious. 
“Huh. Ok. Let’s get you all fixed.” 
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A half-hour later, Eddie and your dad stroll out of the examination room with some antiseptic creams and low-grade painkillers. 
“So, uh, it’s getting late; should we grab dinner and go back to Birdie’s?” your dad says. 
“Yeah, sure, sounds good.” Eddie can hear his stomach growl again. 
After picking up the food, Eddie and your dad finally arrived at your place, almost five hours later. You had spent the entire time waiting at home, feeling anxious and restless. As you waited, you couldn't help but imagine Eddie being tended to by a cute nurse. You pictured her doting on him, taking care of him in ways you never could. The thought of him falling for her made your heart ache with jealousy. Despite your best efforts to push away these feelings, you couldn't help but imagine him walking away from you, leaving you behind.
You didn't understand why these feelings were happening. You’d known him for less than twenty-four hours, and the urge to protect and care for him was so strong. You were already starting to miss him and worry about him.
Your mom kept you company, as she felt it wasn’t good for either of you to be alone. The others had to leave, but your mom stayed, and you discussed more of what happened before you were conceived. She knew exactly how you felt, overwhelmed and crazy. It took a while for her to come to terms with what your father described to her all those years ago, but she loved him too much not to believe him, especially when she saw what Jane could do. 
A sense of relief washed over you as your dad and Eddie returned from the hospital. They were okay; his injuries weren’t bad, and he could return to you.  
“Could I stay with, uh, with you guys? Eddie asks your folks, and you set the table, and your stomach drops.
“Shit, man, we are renovating right now; we don’t have space.” 
“You can stay here,” you quickly offered. Your whole guest room hadn’t been used in months. 
“Are you sure? I don’t—you have already done so much for me.” He blushes. 
“Please? I insist.” 
You couldn’t sleep, and he wasn’t going out on the street.
“You raised a good one, Dusty Bun,” Eddie teased.
“Dusty Bun?” You giggle.
“Oh yes your dad had this imaginary girlfriend, Suzy, and—“
“She was real!” Your dad boomed back.
And the three of you laughed.
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The house fell silent when your parents left. After saying your goodbyes, you and Eddie stood awkwardly by the door until you offered to show him the room in which he would be staying.
“Sorry if it’s a little feminine for your taste, but the mattress is really comfortable; it’s memory foam,” you smiled.
“Memory foam?” He questioned.
“You sink into it and feel like you’re on a cloud, trust me. Give it a go,” you gesture to the bed for him to sit on.
You watch as Eddie takes a few steps, and she’s his body to sit on the edge; when his bum hits the comforter, his eyes widen, and he falls back and lets out a moan.
“Holy shit, I’m never leaving” he splays himself over the mattress, and you can’t help but giggle.
“I mean-“
“It’s okay, Eddie, I understand. You can stay as long as you need to.”
Who knows how much time he will be here? How would you even begin to figure out how he gets back home? And can he even get back home? Would he have to go through the upside-down again? Or could he just appear back in the real Hawkins? So many unsolved answers were running through everyone’s minds.
Did Eddie even want to go back? Probably. That would be a bummer, you like him, and not only because he is your father’s good friend….
The longer you pondered, the more awkward the silence became.
“Hey, you want a drink?” you offer, not really thinking; you just need something to ease the tension.“Wait, are you old enough to have a drink?” you eye him. 
“Trust me, sweetheart, I can take a drink.” 
“How old did you say you were again?” 
“I’ll be twenty-two this….year? Well, uh, you know.”
You both walk back to your kitchen and grab the bottle of white wine from the fridge.
“This is all I have, I hope it’s okay?”
“I’ll take anything,” he smirks, and your stomach does a summersault.
You ignore the deep inner attraction and walk over to the cabinet where you keep your glassware.
“So, uh— you gonna call me Uncle Eddie?”
You turn to see that smirk still plastered on his face.
“Absolutely not,” you deadpan.
“Why not?”
Because that would mean I want to fuck my uncle…
“I’m older than you.” You uncork the bottle and pour two big glasses each.
“Not technically."
"Technically, you'd be old and wrinkly," you giggle.
"I would still be a badass, though."
"A badass?"
"Oh yeah, everyone is scared of me." He looked a bit sad.
Your dad did tell you how the town was scared of devil worship and shit but you never took it seriously.
“Not scary to me,” you smile.
“Oh yeah, you could handle all of this?”
“I’m a grown woman; you couldn’t handle me.” You pass him the wine glass.
“I’m technically older than you,” he reminds you again. 
“You’re lucky you’re the legal drinking age.”
“Still legal.” His tone implies something more. 
“I could run laps around you.”
“You think so?”
“I know sweetheart”
The name made your stomach flip, and you took a big sip of wine before you moved to sit on your sofa in the living room.
Eddie followed and sat on the other side facing you.
“So tell me more about the future.”
“What do you want to know?”
“Shit, everything.” He took a long sip and hummed at the flavour.
“What’s Ozzy doing?”
“Like Ozzy Osborn?”
“Yea.”
“He’s fine; he used to have a reality show," you giggled.
“About what?”
“Him and his family.”
“Really? And people like that?”
“Oh, yeah, it was huge. I never watched it, but it was pretty mainstream…. You like metal?”
“Like is an understatement. Had my own band and everything.”
“Oh yea dad mentioned that Uncle Jeff was in a band… coffin something?”
Eddie bloomed with pride that you knew of his band. His face turned flush but he could blame that on the alcohol.
“Corroded Coffin.”
“Yes that’s it!” You snapped your fingers. “You cover anything I would know?”
“Uh maybe? Metallica, Dio, Ozzy… obviously.”
“Yeah, I’ve heard some stuff from those bands. Uh, here, let me put in something. “ you smile and grab your phone.
Eddie watches in awe as your fingers click against the glowing rectangle in your hands.
“That thing can play music?”
You nod your head and smile.
“Anything it can’t do?”
“Not really” you shake your head.
You find an 80’a playlist, thinking it will make him feel at home and he was in awe.
“Can you show me more about that?” He points to your smartphone.
“I’m yea sure.” You scoot closer to him so he can see and he looks down at the glowing screen.
As you show him the different features, he’s enamoured with Spotify. He loves how you can have any music at your fingertips.
Google was also another thing he had way too much fun with, asking anything and everything he could think of. He googled Metallica and was shocked when they were nominated for a Grammy only a few years later.
Online shopping was also a whirlwind to explain. Amazon was a trip for him; he couldn't believe in one-day shipping for anything you could desire.
“You mentioned you liked fantasy stuff, what do you like?” You snuggled into him closer so you could see the phone in Eddie’s grip.
“Lord of the rings, D&D, Excalibur— "
"Oh my god!" you jump, and so does Eddie.
"What?!"
You don't answer but scurry to find your TV remote.
"Woah," Eddie mumbles as he sees the crisp picture on the flat screen, which lights up the dark room.
You hold down the mic button on the remote and speak into it. Sure, you could have typed it out, but showing Eddie futuristic things was fun.
"Lord of the Rings"
You turn and watch Eddie to see his eyes light up when the trilogy of movies appears on screen.
"No way!"
"There are also three movies of The Hobbit," you giggle.
It was like watching a kid on Christmas morning. The pure joy on Eddie's face said this was the best news he’d ever heard. And to his defence, this was the best thing that’d happened to him in about three weeks.
“Well, I know what I’m doing tomorrow. I need to be all in and clear-minded when I get to experience these.”
“We can make a day of it.” You smile, not even thinking about your job or any responsibilities. Sure, you worked from home, but you were not getting any work with Eddie in the house.
“Really?” He smiles.
“Yea.” You smile back.
The look in his eyes was too intense. You had to break eye contact and excuse yourself to get the bottle.
You don’t even ask Eddie if he wants more, but you empty the contents into his glass and then return to get the second bottle in the back of your fridge.
The conversation held its own as you explained to Eddie about Tesla, social media, legalization of weed in some states, LGBTQ+ rights, 9/11, Obama, Trump, and the pandemic. You didn't want to overwhelm him with too much at first, but you settled on important things.
“Is sex still the same in the future?” He asked casually. And you almost choke.
“Explain to me how it is in the eighties, and I’ll let you know,” you giggle. The alcohol was definitely taking effect.
“W-w-well I….shit” he didn’t think you’d bite.
“Come on, Eddie. We are both adults.” You slide your foot across the couch and nudge his leg playfully.
“Never mind, forget it.” He blushes.
“No, come on, what do you want to know?”
“Is porn still a thing?” He meekly asks, and you can’t help but burst out laughing.
“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I promise I’m not laughing at you; it’s just like the biggest industry on the internet.”
“Yea?”
“Oh yea. Anything you are into it’s there. Trust me.”
“Trust you? You’ve paid for porn? Sweetheart, I didn’t take you as that kinda girl,” He accuses.
“Hell no, I don’t pay for it.” You laugh.
“Then how do you know what’s out there?” He retorted.
“Because it’s free.” You take your last sip of wine for the night.
Eddie stares at you, mouth agape.
“I’m a single woman, and I have needs.” You defend.
Eddie was stunned. Did he just hear that you touch yourself to free porn on that tiny electric box in your hands? Yes, he did.
“Uh— uh, is there any chance I could brow that phone thing you got there?"
"Absolutely not!" you laughed.
"Why not?! I’m a curious man! I need to learn I have needs too."
"Good night, Eddie," you laugh as you get up off the couch.
“Birdie, come on, please!”
“Goodnight, Eddie.” You shake your head and leave Eddie alone to get ready for bed.
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The next morning you were tired, to say the least. You’d gone to bed late and decided to call in sick for the rest of the week.
You woke up around 10:00 a.m. to find the guest room door ajar, and Eddie was still sound asleep. He probably needed a good night's sleep after everything he’d been through, so you made your way downstairs to make breakfast for the both of you.
As the smells wafted through the house, they made their way to the guest room and woke up Eddie instantly. He woke up with a jerk, having forgotten where he was for a split second, but he calmed down once he remembered you.
“He pulled on the same sweatpants and shirt you gave him yesterday and stumbled down to the kitchen.
“Morning, sleepy head,” you smiled over your shoulder.
Eddie wasn’t ready to see you in only a small tank top and tiny sleep shorts.
“M-morning” he stuttered as he took in the view of you.
“I’m making us some food; hope you like bacon and eggs”
“Yeah, definitely.”
“How about coffee?” You walk over to your specialty coffee bar. You loved making gourmet coffees with the syrups and milks.
“Black, please.” he walked over to see the different options.
“That’s so boring! Let me make you something special.”
He gave another funny look, but you insisted.
So you ignore his request, brew your cinnamon coffee pod, add dulce de leche-flavoured syrup and a splash of cream, and slide it over to him.
He looks at you suspiciously, sniffs it and gives a curious look.
“Oh my god, it’s delicious. Just taste it.”
“I’m not sure what freaky futuristic shit you put in this,” he teases.
You squint your eyes but then give a smirk of satisfaction as his eyes bulge as he takes the first sip.
“Shit, that’s good,” he mumbles before taking another sip.
“Told ya” you turn back to the food of the stove to start platting it.
It was fairly quiet as the both of you ate. Eddie was still scarfing down the food like he’d never eaten a home-cooked meal, which made you more curious about the events he’d been through.
“I was thinking we could go shopping today. Can we get you some clothes and maybe a phone?” You tease.
“A phone?” He perked up.
“Maybe, I’m not sure how long you’re staying, and if you wanted to keep in contact with everyone, it’s the easiest way.” You shrugged.
“O-o-okay. But then we can come back here and watch Lord of the Rings?"
"Of course." You smile
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Your dad and Uncle Steve met you at the Starcourt Mall around noon. You never thought you would be shopping with these two and their dead friend, but here you were.
After a very long time in Target, and a fashion show, Eddie got a full wardrobe.
“Can we get Eddie a phone?” You ask as you hrough the familiar halls.
“Really? Do you think he needs one? We don’t know how long he’ll be here,
“We don’t even know if we can get him back home”
“I think I’d like one… if it isn’t too much money.” Eddie asked.
“Don’t worry about that Ed’s” your dad turns.
So you and Eddie walk over to the mobile booth and get him a basic smartphone so he can interact with everyone.
Eddie was still enamoured by the touch screen technology, especially in your car. You had to tell him off for messing with the music but he couldn’t help himself.
You let him know you’d help him with his playlist once you got home.
When you and Eddie get home, you teach him how to use it. After the painstaking lesson, he seems to eventually get used to the new technology. He seemed like a natural after an hour or so then the two of you settled down to watch the movie.
You had the whole set up with blankets, pillows, snacks, and drinks.
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Turns out Eddie has a knack for new technology because that night, it didn’t take much for him to find porn. He was overwhelmed by the thousands of options. He clicked the first few that were featured and basically came without seconds of watching, but Eddie was determined and unbelievably horny. After the first time, he wasn’t satisfied, so he continued to look for videos. His curiosity took over with all of the categories, but he found himself going back to the ones where the girl resembled you.
As you’re laying in bed trying to fall asleep, you hear him. Did he not release how loud he was? How incredibly hot he sounded as his grunts travelled through your walls. You couldn’t get the image of Eddie touching himself out of your head, no matter how hard you tried to block him out. You couldn’t even get your headphones because they were in your purse downstairs, and you didn’t want to get up and alarm Eddie.
So you lay there on your phone, scrolling mindlessly until you see Eddie’s new contact pop up. You click on it instantly. It’s a voice note.
Do you dare? You know what he’s doing down the hallway. Even if it is muffled, it’s obvious. You can hear the moans of a girl getting fucked on the screen.
The little devil on your shoulder wins as you find yourself pressing play.
‘Uuuuuuuh fuck-yessssss, just like that! Unnnnnngh mmmmmmmm so hot, fuck-“
His voice was deep and gasping with need.
You didn’t even know you could record a voice note while watching a video, but who knows?
“Such a good girl. Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmm”
And it cuts off. You rewind it again to listen to him say goodgirl, and your stomach flip flops, and you can feel something burning in your core.
It’s been so long since you’ve been with anyone. You can’t help but reach for your vibrator hidden in your nightstand.
You replay the voice note and turn it on. You imagined Eddie’s body on yours, how he would touch your skin, kiss your collarbone, eat you out, praise you; God, his voice was so hot, you were quivering with pleasure. Before you knew it, you had been cumming within minutes.
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The next morning, you, too, were oblivious to Eddie also hearing your needy breaths.
He had no idea that he was the reason behind them, but when he heard the toy's low humming and your moans, he had a slight hunch that you were also doing the same as him.
“Sleep well?” you ask, walking into the kitchen to see Eddie trying to figure out the coffee maker. He turns to see you in nothing but a large T-shirt, fuzzy socks, and bunny slippers, and he never thought he could feel more butterflies looking at someone. It’s fast, it’s strong, and it’s scaring Eddie. His attraction to you is nothing like he’s experienced before.
“Uh yeah— you?" you think back to how you fell asleep, blissed out.
“Yeah,” he smirks, also thinking back to how he made himself cum three times last night, a new personal best.
You think for a minute that you should tell him about the voice note, but you decide against it. It would only be an uncomfortable situation. So you leave it and pretend like nothing happened.
You drove both you and Eddie to Uncle Steve's house. It was a strange and surreal experience watching Steve and Eddie interact, as if no time had passed since they last saw each other. It was like they had picked up their friendship right where they left off.
As you and Eddie caught up with Steve, you learned about what happened after the incident. There was a funeral, which was attended by few people, but the ones who mattered were there. You discovered that the kids took turns visiting the empty grave, cleaning up the graffiti left by the townspeople. Eventually, the graffiti stopped and people ceased to care. However, Hellfire and the rest of the gang still visited the grave and left flowers from time to time.
Steve got married, but the marriage didn't last long. You remembered how much you disliked her when they visited you as a kid. Steve never got over Nancy; he still loved her, even though she chose someone else. He hoped they would find their way back to each other someday, but she had moved overseas for investigative journalism.
Eddie wasn't surprised to hear that Uncle Mike and Aunt Jane got married. Although he had never met her, he remembered how fondly Mike had spoken about her. Mike loved her with all his heart.
You also learned that Will, the other boy Eddie never met, became a big animator working in LA. Steve shared that Lucas was the basketball coach at Hawkins High, and Erica had become a CEO.
Eddie asked about Max, and Steve replied that she was okay now. It took a while, but after Vecna had gotten to her, she was in a coma for months. Her vision never came back, and it took a long time for her to recover. Steve half-heartedly smiled. Eddie cringed and asked if Vecna had any more victims, and Steve replied that Carver hadn't made it. There was a huge earthquake that came from the Upside Down that killed about ten people they didn't know. Talking about it was clearly bothering Steve, but Eddie needed to know.
"Can you show us some pictures?" You asked, trying to lighten the mood.
"Yeah, sure, kid." He smiles and leads you to where he kept the photo albums. After seeing all the memories Eddie missed out on, he felt a feeling he's never felt before.
"You okay?" You ask, noticing how quiet he was on the drive back.
"Yeah? No? I don’t know. I’m just— I missed out so much! I was supposed to be there with them! I'm starting to regret my choice of staying back… I. Shit that sounds awful, but I'm not supposed to be here. I'm supposed to be back there, in 1986, with my friends and my uncle! And now I'm stuck here and don't even know if I'll be able to go back home?!"
You don't know why you're hurt by Eddie's words, but you are. This wasn't about you, but the thought of Eddie not wanting to be here made you feel like he doesn't want to be with you.
"Don't say that, Eddie! What you did was brave; it was dignified! You chose to help save your friends. Sure, it was a little stupid because you died. Or didn't die? I don't know… but I always saw you as this hero my dad would talk about! You're honourable and kind and so selfless. And somehow, it led you to here…"
To me.
"Thanks, Sweetheart."
The nickname made your heart flutter. It's not the first time he called you that, but each time it doesn't go unnoticed.
"I'm scared," Eddie finally admits as you pull into the driveway.
"I know," you whisper.
You would be terrified if it were you in Eddie's position. You don't know how he's held it together this long. You weren't lying when you told him he was brave. He's the bravest person you've ever met."
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Several weeks have passed, and you and Eddie have settled into a comfortable routine. You’re back at work, and Eddie has accepted that he will be stuck in the future. You and Eddie wouldn’t want to leave one another at the end of each day. You’d catch one another, with both of your lingering glances.
Your family had searched for anything and everything to research and look into anything that could be used as a portal to the upside-down or time travel. But the gate was permanently closed and had been for over thirty years, and there was no way they would risk opening it back up just of the possibility of Eddie getting attacked again, so maybe he could get back. The possibility of a gate on the other side was extremely slim because it had been sealed.
Eddie would spend hours sitting by the window, gazing at the vast expansion of houses before him. It was hard to believe that the once-desolate trailer park he called home was now this fancy. The years he had spent away from it had brought about so many changes that he struggled to come to terms with. He often found himself pining for a life that should have been, but he knew deep down that he had to accept the way things were now.
Despite feeling emotionally numb, he took solace in the fact that he was still here, breathing and healing. Each day brought with it small signs of progress, and he clung to them with all his might. He knew that he still had a long road ahead of him, but for now, he was content to sit by the window and watch the world go by, slowly but surely regaining his strength and sense of purpose. he was dead to the world but here he was, living, breathing... healing.
His physical wounds were healed; all that was left was a nasty scar. His mental wounds, however, were still ever-present in his mind. He would have night terrors; he couldn’t hide them. You would hear him screaming in the night, sometimes multiple times, if he was able to fall back asleep.
He tried talking about it with Dustin and the others, but nothing seemed to help. He was exhausted and mentally drained by the fact that nothing was the same; nothing was familiar. Sure, his friends were there for him, but they had changed; they weren’t the same people as he remembered them.
Eddie had another awful dream tonight if you could call it that. It was more of a memory; the exact events of that fatal night replayed as a loop inside his brain.
It always starts when he's with Dustin in the boarded-up trailer. Then, he watches as Dustin crawls through the gate. Eddie waits, watching him for a split second before running back out. He no longer wants to be a coward or a runner. He's surrounded by unearthly creatures, fighting for his life, but there are too many. He can't escape. All he feels is the pain, terror, and then nothing. It's all darkness, quiet, and loneliness. The worst part is the solitude, the feeling of being so alone. He longs for the day when he no longer feels that way.
Sometimes, when he's with you, he forgets that he's not supposed to be here. But as soon as he returns to this room, which is not his, it all comes crashing back down.
As the night wore on, Eddie's screams pierced through the stillness of the house. You had been lying awake for hours, listening to his panicked cries, feeling helpless and powerless to ease his distress. You can no longer take it; you can't listen to him suffer. You push the covers off, not caring that you’re only in a big T-shirt, and walk over to Eddie’s room and timidly knock on the door.
You slowly push it open as he never latches it fully shut. You can see him in the dim light of the moon fling the room and the light from the hallway. He’s a bit sweaty, trashing under the covers. He’s still sleeping, if that’s what you can call it. You can’t imagine the image playing in his mind as you slowly make your way over to wake him, to not get knocked out in the process. The room was dimly lit, and Eddie's ragged breathing was the only sound as he tried to calm himself down.
Eddie hadn't noticed you walked over to him, he was still sleeping. You sat beside him, gently stroking his hair, and whispered comforting words in his ear. Slowly but surely, his screams subsided, and his breathing became more regular.
“Eddie,” you gently whisper, brushing your hand across his bare back. His skin is sticky with sweat but he’s cold.
“Eddie,” you repeated, slowly circling your hand around his back in comfort.
He jerks awake with a gasp, and unexpectedly, he grabs you and pulls you into a tight hug.
“I’m so scared, Birdie.” You can feel him trembling in your arms as your body slowly relaxes under his touch.
“Shhhh. I’ve got you; I’m here.” You hold him as silent tears fall down his cheeks, staining your shirt. You rock him slowly to help calm him down. You lay beside him in silence, there for him, holding him.
“I don’t- can you-“ he takes a deep breath. You stay quiet to let him gather his thoughts.
“Can.... you stay with me tonight?”
Your heart melts as you hear the words trickle from his lips. He’s so delicate. He needs to be cared for, and you’re more than willing.
“Come.” You take his hand and lead him to your room. You pull him into your still-warm bed, snuggling under the covers together.
This isn't the closest youve been to Eddie. You've managed to fall asleep on his shoulder while watching the lord of the Rings movies a time or two. But this felt different. It was more intimate, and you weren't sure how to go about it.
You let Eddie take the lead as you lay beside him. You feel his fingers intertwine with yours under the duvet, and you squeeze his hand before opening up your arms so you can hold him. He lays his head on your chest. The tears have subsided for now, and you kiss the top of his head without thinking. You let your lips linger on his head before he looked up at you. His pleading eyes long for any source of comfort, especially from you.
You have been there for him, even when you should have called the cops after he broke into your house. But you were selfless; you let him find shelter, a shower, clean clothes, and food, all before you knew who he was. He was so frightened, but you showed him compassion. He started falling for you then, even if he didn't really see it a month ago; he sees it now.
You're so kind and fun; you get him to the fullest degree, even if you're not from the same time. Maybe Eddie has Dustin to thank, but he is falling for you. At this moment, in another time of need, you're with him in the middle of the night, comforting him even if you have work tomorrow. Eddie sees that didn't matter to you. You're here for him. So can he really blame himself when he tilts his head further to see more comfort from you in a gentle kiss? No, he can't. He's been longing for this, pining and itching to feel his lips on yours.
It takes you by surprise; his lips are so soft and delicate. It's been so long since you've kissed someone you've developed feelings for.
Eddie is desperate for more. He wants this so badly; he moans as he feels you start to kiss him back, but that snaps you out of it.
“We shouldn’t. This is wrong; you’re not in the right headspace.” You pull back, looking into his pleading eyes.
“Please, I want to forget. I don't know how else to forget," he begs you. He needs this to not be remembered, even if it is temporary. Eddie's lips hover centimetres from yours. His hot breath fans over your skin as you try to think of what to do.
You want this, he wants this, so what is stopping you?
"Birdie, if you don't want to, I'll go back to my room; I can move in with Steve or Robin or someone. I'm sorry; I overstepped. I just-"
You cut him off with another kiss, but you're not overthinking it this time. You need him to feel how you're feeling, how everything is only right when you're with him.
Before Eddie came into your life, you felt like everything was average and unremarkable. But since he's entered your world, he's brought a sense of excitement and adventure that you never knew existed. Even though his presence can be chaotic sometimes, you find yourself drawn to him and the thrill he brings. You feel like he's exactly what you've been missing and never want to return to your old, mundane life.
"I need this too, Eddie," you mumble into his lips, and Eddie sighs; his heart skips a beat.
You feel his weight shift as Eddie leans into the kiss. He leans you back into your pillows, taking the lead. You feel how his hands trace up your arms so he can cup your face.
He wants to feel you, breathe you, and be with you. No one has ever shown Eddie so much selflessness as you have. You deserve the world in Eddie’s eyes, and he wants to let you know how grateful he is to have you.
But he also wanted to forget it all—all the terrible things he’d witnessed and gone through. He just wanted it to go away for a while. So, for now, while he’s with you, his anxieties and fears are slowly being plucked away with each moan, gasp, and timid graze.
Eddie can feel your heat through the thin pyjama pants adorning his waist. You’re only in a shirt and your panties, but Eddie needs to see more of you.
“Can I take this off?” He mumbles in between desperate kisses as his fingers grip the hem of your sleep shirt.
You don’t let him ask again before you tug it over your head. You didn’t think his doe eyes could get any bigger, but here he was, proving you wrong, and it only made him look more endearing.
You reach out to Eddie as he sits there like a statue, staring at you. You take his hand, bring it up to your chest, and place his large hand on your breast.
“Hollyshit,” he whispered, realizing he was touching his best friend’s daughter. But that thought quickly passed as you leaned up in to kiss him; it's sloppy, it’s desperate, it’s wet, it’s so hot Eddie thinks he might just bust in his pants here and now when you ground your hips into his already painfully hardened cock.
You can’t help but moan when your pussy brushes up against him. You can feel how turned on he is, and it only makes you want him more.
“More,” you moan as Eddie’s hip grinds into yours.
Eddie didn’t need to be told twice. His fingers find the twists of your underwear, and he lets his fingers slip down to your slit. You widen your legs so you can feel it all. His long fingers trace up and down your slit, collecting your slick before he impressively finds your clit on the first go.
His lips travel down lower so they can latch on your neck.
“Oh, Eddie,” you breathe as the combination of his fingers and lips sends a shockwave of pleasure through your body. His mouth leaves a mark on your delicate skin.
“Good girl, say my name.”
Another wave of pleasure travels through you these words.
“Eddie,” you moan. You don’t even recognize your own voice. It’s so desperate and needy. If you weren’t so desperate, you’d be embarrassed.
“Fuck, that’s so hot” he slips a single digit up into you to test the waters. “Baby, you’re soaked. All for me?” He groans with need.
“Yes, Eddie, I want you so bad; I need you so bad,” You squirm under his touch. He pumps his thick, long finger in and out before adding another one.
His head travels lower, and his mouth latches onto your perked nipple. His warm, wet mouth feels so nice, but that quickly is gone as he nips at your bud, and you let out an unexpected yelp.
“Fucking love your noises” Eddie moved onto your other nipple doing the same thing, only this time you’re prepared, and you arched up into his touch. His fingers are still working on you, and you’re so close.
“Don’t stop” You’re so close, and he knows it; he can feel your pussy clamping down on him with each pump of his hand.
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Pleasing you has been the only thing that has made him feel this good in a while.
All his worries and anxieties were by the wayside. His only purpose was to please you, to touch you, to please you.
You could feel it coming; you were so close only a few more seconds, and you would be flooded with ecstasy.
A roar of Eddie’s name rips from your lungs as you soak his fingers. Eddie never thought he would be so lucky to experience this with you, but here he was, watching as your body shook with pleasure all before of him.
“Fuuuuuck, you did so well for me, baby.” You don’t even notice when he sticks his fingers in his mouth to taste you. You’re too blissed out.
You didn’t think your pussy would need anything more, but hearing his praises only makes you quiver with need. You need his cock; you need to make him feel good. This was about him forgetting; this was about the both of you making one another feel good. You needed to take care of him.
Once you caught your breath, you shuffled so he was under you.
Eddie watched as you discarded your soaked panties and were fully naked for him. Kneeling at his waist, drooling over what was under his tented pants.
“Can I?“ you bat your lashes innocently as you reach for the waistband of his pants.
“Fuck, you have to ask, sweetheart; any time you want to, just do it.”
You giggle at his eagerness, but it’s cut off when you see just how pretty his cock is.
The head is so pink; it’s just screaming at you to put it in your mouth.
Your mouth waters as he grips his cock in his hand, guiding it to your mouth.
You stick out your wet tongue and the moonlight reflects off of it, it’s that wet.
Eddie can’t help but tap it a few times before you take his tip fully.
Eddie’s messy curls fall back as he lets his head hang, you looked up through your lashes to see his exposed neck and it only made you want to mark him as yours.
Your attention shifts when you feel his large hand run along your scalp, gently tugging at your roots. Your eyes roll back as his grip tightens, and you sink deeper.
His hard cock feels heavy in your mouth. His small whimpers make your pussy drip as you bob your head up and down his shaft. His taste and smell are overwhelming. All you want is to please him. To help him forget. Selfishly, you only want him to focus on you, and it’s working.
Eddie can’t believe he’s in your room, in your bed, watching you naked as you give him the best head of his life. He’s forgotten everything; he only knows you and how you’re making him feel. He’s feeling good. It's the first time in weeks he feels good, amazing even.
“Such a good girl, Birdie.” He tried so hard to not thrust his hips up into your mouth, but it’s so hard when he feels you take all the way.
You nuzzle your face into the thatch of hair at the base of his cock. It’s soft and smells of him; it’s overwhelmingly Eddie. You drool out of the sides of your mouth as you finally come back up for air. Replacing your mouth with your hand. Jacking him off as Eddie takes your mouth in his own once again.
“Need to be inside of you.” he pulls you up so you're straddling his lap.
You adjust quickly so you can sink slowly on his cock. I'm not even thinking about a condom; you’re on birth control anyway. You need him. He needs you. Simple.
You hold his shoulders for balance as you ease your way on his thick long cock. It burns slightly as he stretches you out, but you need it. You want it.
“Fuck you’re so big, Eddie” your head falls back as you sink to the bottom.
Eddie watches in awe as your body envelopes itself around him. You’re so tight and warm around him that he can’t help but grip your hips to help guide you up and down his cock.
Slowly you start to rise and fall on his cock. Both your mouths hang open as the pleasure courses through your veins. You slowly build up your place until you’re bouncing on his cock.
“Got, you’re so fucking hot,” Eddie pants.
He can’t help but take your breast in his mouth again. This had to be the hottest experience of his life. An ‘older’ girl from the future wanting him just as much as he wanted her? Fuck maybe this was heaven?
“Does that feel good, baby?” you coo. All you want is for him to feel as good as you do.
“Shit, yes, your pussy is so tight, fuck me. You’re so sexy.”
“You’re so big,” you moan.
You silence him with another kiss. You feel his tongue in your mouth immediately. He’s so skilled it makes you think how he can use it elsewhere….
“I’m so close, Birdie. Are you close?” He pulls back.
“Mmmmmmmmmm” you nod your head yes.
You need more, but your legs are burning and about to give out. Your pace falters, and Eddie can see you’re getting tired, so he steadies your hips and fucks himself up into you.
“Oh my god!!! Eddie!!!” You hold on to his shoulder to brace yourself. His cock hits your g spot with each powerful stroke; it feels so good you can’t focus on anything else but cuming all over him.
“That’s it, Birdie, come on my cock, good girl.”
“Holy shit,” you cry out.
“I’m going to come. Where do you want?”
“Inside!” The aftershock still taking over your senses.
You listen to Eddie’s grunts as he releases himself inside of you, it sounds so hot you didn’t think he could be any more attractive, but he was holding you down on his cock, not letting any of his cum leak out just yet.
You collapse down onto Eddie chest as your heavy breathes become synchronized.
“I think they nicknamed you the wrong woodland creature.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m going to call you Bunny stress of Birdie.”
Your brain is still foggy, and you’re unsure what he means.
“You’re like a bunny hopping all over my cock”
“Eddie!” You playfully slap his chest before you decide to go off of him.
“So, is sex really that much different from the eighties?” You giggle as you roll over to lie beside him.
“I think it might be better,” he says as he pulls you in for another hot kiss.
“You wanna go again?” You look at him, surprised.
“What? Can’t keep up with a younger man?”
“It’s four in the morning, Eddie. I have to work,” you moan. Your heart wants it, but your head says otherwise.
“Shit! I’m sorry”
“Don’t be. Tomorrow, I’ll show you what I can do; that first round was nothing.” You giggle.
After Eddie helped you get cleaned up, the room was silent for a bit.
"Thank you for being there for me, Bridie." Eddie takes your hand and gently squeezes it.
"No need to thank me, Eddie, I'll always be there for you."
139 notes · View notes
misguidedasgardian · 2 days
Text
The Hour of the Wolf (XI)
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XI. A ray of sunlight
MASTERLIST
Summary: You never thought you could feel like this 
Pairing: Cregan Stark x Targaryen!Reader
Warnings: Cursing, war, death, mentions of killings, genocide and war, threats,arranged marriage, SPOILERS for ASOIAF, and Fire & Blood, also, might spoil House of the Dragon, might miss some warnings, brestfeeding on this chapter
+18, MINORS DNI
Wordcount: 3,4 k 
Notes: Alright… sorry for the confusion… There were three ravens, Reader first wrote to Cregan to confess to him that she was pregnant and she wanted him back and whatnot… that raven GOT LOST, got eaten by a snake… idk… she then received a raven from Cregan, who, as he never received anything, he wrote to her telling her he was fine and he would like her to visit him up North, reader thought he received the letter, and didn’t care, and it was answering to it, so she just wrote a letter telling him she couldn’t make the journey, that’s it!
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“Look at him”, you whispered, “he is perfect”, you admired his beautiful round face, his perfect little nose, his long eyelashes, his round squishy cheeks
“He is”, Cregan whispered, kissing your temple, “you had done so beautifully, my sweet Queen”, you looked into his eyes and you found content, and pride
But your eyes returned to your baby, your dragonling.
He had silver hair, beautiful silver hair, just like yours, and then when he barely open his eyes, he revealed them to be icy gray, like his father
He was so perfect, a perfect Targaryen Prince
The blood of Old Valyria and the blood of the first men run through his little veins.
You were so, so proud of him, of yourself, you had every maester check his health, and they all agreed, that the New Prince of Dragonstone was healthy, strong, and, as he had proven to you, had a strong set of lungs in him.
“My love”, called Cregan, but you only hummed, not letting your eyes wander from your newborn son, “there is people wanting to meet him”, he said softly, it was the middle of the next day, and you wanted to savor your alone time with him a little longer.
“Later”, you said simply
“They had been waiting since yesterday”, he said, kissing the top of your head again, “and we need a name”
“I just gave birth, can’t they please leave me alone for a bit?”, you asked, softly but angrily 
“This baby is the next ruler of the seven Kingdoms”, he said softly, “there are protocols…”, you looked at him severely
“Bring in my brother and Jahaera”, you conceded, he barely nodded, and went away, giving you a breath of relief. You didn’t want anyone else but your family in here
The children entered with big, curious, scared eyes, when they landed on you, they came to your side quickly, Aegon was sure to be right there next to you, to catch the closest and first look at his baby nephew
“He is a bit red”, it’s the first thing he mumbled, making you giggle
“He was just born”, you whispered, “it’s normal”, you explained softly, Jahaera didn’t say anything, but looked at the baby with big ghostly eyes, and for the very first time, you thought you catched a glimpse of a smile
“Jahaera? want to hold him?”, she seemed truly surprised, you just patted the bed right next to you, and she climbed to your side, when she was settled, you placed your baby in her arms, she seemed content, only watching him in her frail arms
“He is small”, she murmured, you only smiled, he was a bit small, and… “made of ice and fire”, she whispered
“What?”, you asked, but you were interrupted when Cregan opened the door, he stood there, with a warm smile on his face. 
You didn’t even know how you were going to name him, I mean, you had some ideas, and you were not even going to ask your husband, he, your firstborn, was of the realm, of the Iron Throne, he had to have a name of Old Valyria
Jahaera excuse herself, she had a lesson with her septa, but Aegon stayed, sitting there in the bed by your side, Cregan had left to gather the court
“Can I ask you something?”, your baby brother asked 
“Anything”, you answered truthfully
“Now that you have a son… will you… will you still love me the same?”, he asked, and his big eyes told you he was extremely worried. That truly surprised you, but you smiled softly nonetheless.
“Of course!”, you said with a big smile, “you are my baby brother, I will never stop loving you, and I will never stop caring for you, you heard me? you are stuck with me, and your little nephew for life”, you giggled
“Really?”, he asked, hopefully
“I promise”, you assured him.
Cregan came back, thinking he had given you enough time, Aegon as he saw him, he excused himself from the room, and left
“A name, wife”, he demanded. He was the father, but he is letting you name your child, the prince of Dragonstone and heir to the Iron Throne
“Aerion”, you said with your son back in your arms, “of House Stark, until he ascends the Throne, as Aerion Targaryen”, you said firmly
“Good”, he said, “the small council is waiting”, he said, and again, he did not expect a no for an answer
“Very well”, he received your son, as you stood from the bed, the maids had placed you the “looser” dress you had, but not less impressive than any others, it was soft red velvet, with black and gold details. Your hair is barely arranged by two small braids arranging it off your face.
You barely let the maids touch your child, but they had dressed him too, in a simple golden attire. He was sleeping in his father’s arms, and you held onto him too, as you walked the hallways.
You had to present your son to the court
Not letting them see him, would awaken all sorts of gossip, that maybe there was something wrong with him, or he was weak, or any nonsense like that, this was going to make it clear to everyone…
The House of the Dragon stood strong, with you, your son, your brother, and your niece.
Especially with the silver hair on his head.
“You have done beautifully, wife”, Your husband said, as he saw you pondering, with your eyes lost in front of you
“Thank you husband”, you answered simply
You were already tired as you reached the huge doors, you hoped you didn’t have to sit on the throne today, you didn’t think you could handle it. You were still really sensitive.
“Lady (y/n) of House Targaryen, Queen of the Andals, the Roynar and the first Men, Lady of the Seven Kingdoms, and protector of the Realm, and her Lord Husband Cregan, of House Stark, Lord of Winterfell, Warden of the North, and Hand to the Queen, would like to present to the court, Aerion, of House Targaryen and Stark, Prince of Dragonstone!”, you might as well announce it now, the shocked faces appeared before you, your son was the heir, and next King of the Seven Kingdoms.
The huge doors of the entrance of the throne room opened in front of you, you tried to smile as the entire court, your court, tried their best they could to catch a glimpse of the sleeping Prince in Cregan’s arms
You walked slowly to the front, smiling and nodding to everyone on their way
All the Lords and Ladies nodded at you, muttering words of kindness
“Congratulations my Queen”
“What a fine Prince your grace!”
“You had been blessed, and you had blessed us all”
And more
So much more
Your council had been waiting for your approval, to start the celebrations, feasts, tournaments, parties, the first ones since the end of the war
“Behold! Prince Aerion of House Targaryen and Stark!”, chanted Arryk, you faithful Queen’s guard. 
It was a tiring affair, you should be resting, and Cregan thought so as well, but you you a Queen, and if you wished to prove those who wouldn’t see your mother on the throne wrong, you have to stand there, with your newborn son, in front of the court as you barely gave birth the day before as the sun was setting 
“In the celebrations of the birth of my son, I announce a big tournament, to join all countries as one, and also, a big feast to go with it!”, you said loudly, and the entire room bursted in cheers and applause, making Aerion cry angrily, as he was startled by the loud noise
Cregan smiled grabbing him carefully with his strong hands and showed him to the entire room, shortly, then he cuddled him into his strong chest, he looked so proud 
The tournament was going to be held in two months time
This was a new era, you constantly had to be remained of
The kingdoms were still healing, you were still healing… you need this, you did
You were finally “allowed” to go back to your rooms, you dismissed the nannies who had offered to take your baby.
It was normal and customary, that you had a small army of women ready to take care of your child, but you didn’t want to let him out of your sight
Is not that you didn't trust them, it was just…
It felt odd
To be apart from him
You had them bring a crib by the side of your bed, as you watched him asleep tears fell down your eyes… oh how you wished your mother was there with you
You had cried for her in the middle of labor, how you needed her warmth, her maternity, her advice, all of her. She was an excellent mother, she adored each and every one of you, and you didn’t know how you were going to do this without her
You were so lonely
You had dismissed your ladies, and the nurses were unfamiliar to you
Because Aegon the Usurper killed your mother’s nurses when he took Dragonstone
You felt so lonely.
The all familiar pain that had installed on your chest came flourishing back again, and you realized it had never left, you just grown accustomed to it
Would she be proud of you?
You imagined your brothers coming to see your son, Jacaerys picking him up from his crib and raising him in his strong arms, you imagined Luke grabbing onto Aerion with gentle hands, accommodating him on his chest with his beautiful smile looking down at his nephew 
The guards outside your room presented Cregan who entered the room with scrolls on his hands
“Letters, from your cousins Baela and Rhaena, and one from Lord Co…”
“Dispose of them”, you demanded, you didn’t care
“But…”
“I don’t care what those traitors have to say”, you said bluntly, he had caught you in a wrong moment
“Wife…”, he started carefully, “may I ask why…?”,  he asked simply, you guessed he wanted to hear your version of the facts
“Corlys Velaryon served my mother, until it suited him, when the ship was sinking, in the moment my mother needed him the most, he betrayed her, then served the usurper!”, you said bluntly
“He probably was the one who poisoned the usurper”, he said softly
“I guess, it didn’t suit him to keep serving him, I don’t care”, you said angrily, “if he had stayed at my mother’s side like he promised perhaps she would still be here”, you said, you could not forgive him, you wouldn’t allow yourself to
And Baela and Rhaena?
It just hurt too much
At one point they were like your sisters, like real sisters, you had lived together since your mother married Daemon, and… now it just hurts too much. They say Rhaena managed to hatch a dragon, a pink little thing
Good for her
But it just… it hurts… of all the people that could have survived… 
You felt guilty for only thinking about it
They were more Corlys Velaryon’s granddaughters that they were your sisters
“Can I read them?”, he asked, you looked at him
You wanted to say no, you did, but you were also terribly curious
Of what they might want or say… What if was indeed something important? and really, it was Cregan, he was the only one you trusted fully
“Yes”, you said shortly, “let me know if there is something important”. He sat by the window, to read the letter by the sunlight, Aerion began to get fuzzy, so you grabbed him gently and started to feed him
Something very frowned upon
Not even your mother had breastfeed her babies
But to your understanding… who better to feed a future King… than a Queen? his mother? You paid it no more mind as he latched onto you, Cregan didn’t even batted an eye
He was frowning a he read the missives 
“Is there something they need?”, you asked dismissively, “a threat to our Kingdom?”
“No”, he said simply, “just a call for you, their sister”, he said, he folded the letters and put them away, then he opened the one of Lord Corlys
“They wish you the best regarding the birth of your child and Prince of Dragonstone, and they wish to know that if there is anything they can do for you”
“No requests… that’s a new one”, you said sadly 
“Please, help me understand”, he pleaded once again, “what are you thinking?”
“They just keep wanting the fucking throne”, you said bitterly, “that is all this whole thing had been about, the Hightowers and Velaryons alike, each for their own side, sunk their teeth into the targaryen of their choice and bit, ripped and tear them apart for their own convenience, for the fucking throne, killing my entire family in the process, I am done with them”, you sentenced. 
“Very well”, he said, “I will stand by you”
“Thanks”, you said smiling softly, not wanting to discuss the issue further
Even if they were true, that they only were calling for you, their “granddaughter” and sister, how could you ever trust that? if you were not seated on the throne, would they still care for you?
You were convinced they only wanting to fall back into your good graces, the graces of the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms and everything that meant
And the very fact that they knew about the birth of your son so soon unnerved you.
Of course they had spies inside the castle
Perhaps you should burn the letters publicly so words get to them
But it was of no consequence, because that very day, Cregan received important news
His son was arriving
He was in the Crossroads Inn, and he was dying to go and meet him
You allowed him to go with a small force, you had never seen him so happy and excited. He was on his way to meet his son
And taking advantage of that fact, that was going to take him a few days… You realized, thinking about Rhaena… 
Your son needed his egg
You had felt Vhaelar restless, and you needed to know if she had laid her clutch of eggs, or, egg
Singular
The very thought frightened you, what if it didn’t hatch? She as well could be the last Dragon, a grown, fertile dragon. You called in a Dragon keeper immediately, and he presented in front of you, the one that went inside the cave with you, the only one who could get close to your Dragon
“This is long overdue, your Grace”, he said with a soft smile
“I cannot go down there myself”, you explained softly, his face then changed. “What's the matter?”, you asked him
“Vhaelar laid eggs, we didn’t know how many, when the prince was born we adventure into the cave to find… one is gone”, it seemed like everything froze around you
“What?”, you asked
“One of the nests was… broken into”, he said
“Why wasn't I informed of this!?”, you asked angrily
“We found it this very morning”, he said quickly
“Raised alarms!”, you said
“The one that stole it… didn’t realize, she laid two eggs”, he gave a signal to Erryk who was at the door and he opened them to reveal two more Dragon Keeper, that brought with them the heating chamber
A sight you never thought you’d see again
They revealed the egg to you, and tears were brought to your eyes, it was golden, golden like the sun
Was it an Omen? Golden like Syrax… Golden like Sunfyre
Who could have possibly stolen my dragon’s egg?”, you asked him
We don’t know your grace, it must have been someone who knows the area, that its been heavily guarded, even though its against the sea, you had maintain guards around it, and over it, so we can’t understand…”, you kept quiet, you could barely go up stairs, you couldn’t go personally.
That is why she was so restless
Somebody stole her egg
“What if it hatches?”, you asked him, fright in your eyes, he didn’t know what to answer
“A dragon will only answer to a Targaryen your grace, in the worst case, it will grow wild, until we can finally know where it is”
“And in the best case?”
“It’s not normal for two eggs to hatch in the same clutch”, he said softly, “if the Prince’s egg hatches… then… someone still had a treasure in their hands but at least, it will not be a dragon”
It did not settle your nerves
You saw the beautiful egg, it seemed to move, you could feel it, the life within it
“Thank you”, you said finally, and they left you alone.
It wasn’t until a week later, as you fixed the skirt on your dress, that you finally realized how important this was.
Rickon Stark, Cregan’s son, was entering the city
Your husband’s child
Your own child, by marriage
A sweet boy of eight
Soldiers entered in front of the comitive, mounted men with the Stark sigil, and then, right after them, Cregan in all his glory, and at his side, on his own horse, a young boy, that even from afar, you could tell he looked exactly like Cregan, same shade of hair, and as they dismounted and walked towards you, you realized, he had his eyes
“Your Grace, my I present to you, my son and heir, Rickon Stark”, presented Cregan
“Your grace”, the boy greeted politely, his big eyes looking at you widely, even though he bowed. Cregan was by his side, looking at his son proudly
“My Lord, you are most welcomed to King’s landing, and to the Red Keep”, you greeted, amused, he smiled shyly.
“Thank you, your grace”, he looked at you with mistrust, and you could understand him, all of this was new for him.
You of course invited them in, the entire household he had brought with him was large, but, the more the merrier, and if having more of his people with him was going to make Cregan and RIckon feel more comfortable, they were most welcomed.
“There is someone I want you to meet”, you said happily, he only nodded, you looked at Cregan as you walked back to your chambers, and he seemed content, “Can I call you Rickon?”, you asked him softly
“Yes your Grace, of course”, he said simply
“Are you my new mommy?”, he asked bluntly, and you looked at Cregan, alarmed, he was amused, but didn’t say anything, you then looked back at the boy who was looking up at you with his big ghostly eyes
“I don’t have to be if you don’t want me to”, you said gently, and that seemed to relax him a bit, “but there is a place I’d like you to fill”, you said with a solemn voice, like you were requesting of him, you opened yourself the double doors to your room
“Which one, your grace?”, he asked solemnly
“How about.. big brother?”, you asked, inviting him to look inside the cradle where his baby brother was sleeping peacefully
“I’d like that”, he said, pleased, but frowned at further inspection of your baby, “why is his hair white?”, he asked, you giggled
“Because he got it from me”, you said softly
“I thought you had white hair because you were old”, he said simply, and you laughed, hard
The sound of your own laugh seemed so foreign to you
You haven't laughed in…
In…
In a long time
“No, no my dear, I was born with my hair like this”, you explained softly, he only nodded, understanding clearly, “so… are you going to be Aerion’s big brother?”, you asked, and he looked at you with a true smile for the very first time, and nodded excitedly
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One: “Thanks, I Hate You”
You and your arrogant PR client are bitter rivals, and there’s no length Loki won’t go to just to watch you squirm. Just when you think you’re going to get a much-needed break from the Great Redeemed Prince’s ego, you’re tapped to escort him to, of all things, a peace summit in Australia. 
CONTENT WARNING: Loki's an asshole
WORD COUNT: 3.4k
MASTERLIST
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“Mr. Odinson, tell me, how does it feel to be reformed for eighteen months now?”
“Mr. Laufeyson, actually, and it feels absolutely incredible, it’s as if my soul is free at last!”
“And you have no more genocidal urges or Asgardian instincts to kill?”
“Never again will I do harm to the people of this planet, who have so kindly agreed to give me a second chance after removing the influence of my--err---the scepter.”
Loki’s shit-eating grin unfolded across his face, but to the untrained eye, he looked every bit the contrite warlord who fell in love with the world he’d once targeted for conquest. He could twitch and tweak every muscle in his face into the optimal layout for ass-kissing, and the only ones who were ever wise were you and the rest of the team. 
“At least he plays the part well,” you said bitterly to Tony, leaning over to mutter in his ear while watching the former ‘God’ play up the press like they were at a rock concert. Some of the reporters looked downright charmed, but you knew better. You were more interested in the snow flurries that were falling outside the window.
Tony shrugged. “Yeah, he’s okay.”
You sneered, rolling your eyes with disbelief. “Until the flash bulbs stop. Then he becomes a baboon’s taint.” 
Stark muffled a snort of laughter with his fist. “Always one for eloquence. That’s why I hired you.”
“I’m also the only one around willing to wrangle that,” you paused, pointing at Loki as he folded his hands into a prayer pose, expressing gratitude for the praise he was receiving, “for your pittance of an asking price.” 
“I pay you well,” Tony shot back in defense. “Loki knows how to keep up appearances--”
“--he took off his pants in the lunchroom yesterday to annoy me--” 
“--most of the time.” 
You folded your arms across your chest, glancing at the clock on the wall behind Loki as things in the press room wrapped up. In his very basic outfit: a dress shirt and tie, black slacks, and a tight, professional ponytail, he looked dashing enough. You’d known the truth about him for the eighteen months since you were hired to be his PR manager: Loki had all of the behavioral maturity of an eight-year-old high on pixie sticks.  He loved attention, always jutting out his hips when he strutted about the complex, flipping his hair over his shoulder. 
Loki loved to paint himself as the very model of a modern major comeback story. At first, it was for self-preservation. The terms of his parole as set forth by the UN were strict, and the best course of action to keep his freedom was to play by their rules. Over the next year-and-a-half, however, once it was clear that his image was evolving into that of a celebrity, Loki took the idea and ran with it, and he only used your unsavory opinion of his to fuel the fire he lit under your feet every chance he got.
It was almost as if he targeted you with most of his snarks and jests, always calling you every synonym for ‘boring’ he could muster. For a while, you could brush him off, but after the repeated comments, you began to push back…which led you to your current relationship status: tense at best, resentful and irritable more frequently. 
You could not stand him! He never listened to your advice on how to conduct himself in public. One of his favorite pastimes was inviting the worst kinds of people over for sex, and then making you call them afterwards to dump them. “Loki isn’t sure he’s ready to fully commit to one person yet, but last night will always live in his memory…” It was degrading, gross, and such a slimeball move. You always sent each of his poor conquests a fruit basket the size of SoHo. 
The only reason you refused to resign was that you really needed the money. Despite your repeated complaints, Tony was actually paying you very well. You could afford an apartment with a private toilet in Manhattan, anyway. 
“And that’s all we have time for this afternoon, everyone,” Tony leapt onto the stage and gently nudged Loki away from the podium.  “We’re all proud of Loki’s rehabilitation, as well as his decision to live among us and help the Avengers keep this world safe.” 
The applause was thunderous. You bit your lower lip and got another glimpse of the snow squall outside while Loki bowed and mouthed thanks to his supporters. Every second you could successfully divert your attention away from the Asgardian was a victory. Alas, it was temporary. 
As soon as he left the stage, he gave you a smarmy, evil wink. “Better than ever, wouldn’t you say?”
“Hercules couldn’t clean out all the bullshit in your stables, Loki,” you said with an exasperated sigh. 
“Successfully convincing the world of your contrition is an art, you know.”
“So is painting on walls with shit, to some.”
Loki couldn’t help but snicker under his breath, You were the most feisty woman he’d ever met, aside from maybe Natasha Romanoff. “I see we’re fond of the scatalogical comebacks today. Doesn’t that mean your menses are coming on?”
You could have whirled around on your heels and punched him, but your restraint was enough to keep your professional demeanor, at least until you were out of public sight and in one of the private areas. There were still a LOT of people around and your entire job was keeping up appearances for both yourself and your charge. “I have a headache today, Loki, please shut up and let me do my job.” 
“So it is your cycle!” he chortled, putting his hands on his hips. “Do you know what they say helps with menstrual cramps?”
“Don’t!” you warned between gritting teeth, giving Loki a glare of death. “I mean it!”
Loki paused, as if he was actually going to listen. Then he opened his trap, and it came out: “a good hard dicking!” 
There it was. Your line. Loki had crossed it so far that he was about to meet customs on the other side. 
You slapped him across his right cheek hard enough for his head to whip to the side. Of course, he was able to recover from it quickly, only to pout his lips and widen his eyes when several gasps from the reporters still in the press room silenced everything else. Loki’s snarky smile never left his face, especially as he looked back at you with a somewhat more venomous twinge. 
“It’s 2024,” you scowled, “try something less sexist than blaming my period next time, assbag.”
“So violent,” he said lightly. “So attractive. No wonder you have so many dates…oh wait, that’s me!” he said mockingly, putting a hand over his heart and acting surprised. “I have all the dates, and you’re the one who resents that and takes it out on me by hitting me in front of all of my friends!” 
He dropped his sarcastic smile, replacing it with narrow, threatening eyes and a thin frown. “Embarrass me like that again, woman, I dare you.” 
“I only resent that you make me clean your dirty sheets afterwards, asshole,” you answered. “I don’t really care how many strains of herpes you intend to collect from the Greater New York area. You’re a pampered little twat, and I really do deserve more money for babysitting you.”
You started to leave, but you quickly thought better of it and walked back to say one more thing. “And I will gladly smack you in front of these people any day of the week! No one else is going to put you in your place!”
“And what place is that, Madam?” he asked, folding his arms and raising an eyebrow. 
Nearby, a young blonde reporter who was clearly one of Loki’s fans had taken special interest, and was trying to shoot as many desperate glances at him as she could, asking for her turn in his bed with only verbal cues from across a crowded room. 
“I’d say Hell, but you probably have a permanent residence there already.” 
You noticed the blonde was starting to inch closer, and in her stupid, beady little eyes you saw your escape. “I think I see your Skank of the Day coming in for the steal right now.”
Loki turned to look at the blonde reporter, and he looked somewhat unimpressed. “I suppose. The only other creature in here with any sort of beauty is--”
He stopped mid-thought and decided to go back into his debonair facade, waving you away snobbishly and sticking his nose up. “You’re done for the day, I think. Now please leave me to woo this exquisite little doll who approaches…”
You did have some work you needed him for. There was a peace summit in Australia hosted by Amnesty International, and Loki was a keynote speaker, having been spared from the death penalty and turned into the Earth’s darling. He was the world’s most instantly-recognizable proof that anyone could be rehabilitated, which made him a highly desirable motivational speaker. The summit was in three days, and you needed to brief him on the PR person taking over your duties once he crossed the international dateline. 
He could terrorize the Land Down Under for five days all he wanted. You were about to have your first vacation from the miserable fucker since starting your job. This was going to be your Christmas. 
However, you didn’t feel like dragging him away from the little hopeful moving in on him, and instead you decided to begin packing your bag for your long-desired break from Loki. 
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“She what?!” you growled in anger, turning away from Stark and Banner to hide that fact that you were almost instantly upset by their news. 
“Mrs. Donner resigned yesterday,” said Bruce Banner, twiddling his thumbs apprehensively, making him look like a human-sized pangolin. “She’s not taking Loki to Australia.”
“WHY NOT? She’s more qualified than I am!” you bullshitted, doing anything to try and convince these two to go after her. You knew what this meant, but you weren’t ready to accept it just yet. You were a fighter, and you sure as hell weren’t going to sacrifice your time off now.
“She’s also a Mormon. I’m surprised she put up with Loki’s harassment as long as she has,” replied Banner. 
“Or maybe she enjoyed it so much she had to jet off to Planet More-Men or whatever heaven is for them,” Stark mumbled. 
“It doesn’t matter,” you said, brushing the air in front of you as if erasing something off of an invisible chalk board, “what does matter is who we are going to send him with. His parole terms state he cannot cross international boundaries alone.” 
“C”mon, Y/N, you know where this is going!” said Tony with a wink. 
“No,” you said firmly.
“It’ll be summer down there,” said Banner, “It’ll be nicer than here in New York.”
“No!” you repeated. “My vacation!”
Stark rolled his eyes. “I know, I know, that’s why I’m offering you a month’s paid sabbatical after you return.”
“No…I…what?” your fast, angry thoughts slowed on the conveyor belt as you began processing his counteroffer. “I was only scheduled for a week!” 
Tony nodded. “Yeah, I’m quadrupling that right now, I’ll even get it in writing if you want. I can do that. I’m awesome like that.”
A month! A month without Loki poking fun of your ‘menses’ or humiliating you with jests and quips under his breath. A whole month of sleeping in late, dressing like a slob, and not worrying about how you or any client of yours appeared to the public. Tony Stark certainly knew how to play your game. 
“You must be desperate,” you sighed, thinking about it.
“Well, if Loki can’t attend the summit, it’ll look kinda bad,” Bruce added, his low, bashful voice somewhat harder to hear than Tony’s confident tone. 
“I’ll get you VIP passes to any club in the city for the whole month you’re off,” Tony added. “Four of them. And unlimited cocktail service. Live like a movie star for the next month, and all you have to do is babysit our little horndog for five days in Aussieland this week.” 
“Deal,” you acquiesced at last, not missing a beat. “I’ll do it.”
“Excellent.” 
All three of you turned your heads toward the intrusive new voice in the room. Loki was leaning against the doorway to the office, arms folded, a shit-eating sneer on his face. You felt your skin go hot at his sudden, unwelcome appearance. 
“I was hoping that my exertions manipulating that old dowager into quitting would bear fruit, and now it seems I’m just time for my little trip with my dearest friend in the Realm!” 
“Easy, Lokes,” said Stark, holding back a laugh. “Don’t push it, ok?”
You bit your lip to keep your temper. It didn’t make any difference if you kept protesting. You’d taken Stark’s carrot, and now you had five days of this jester’s extraterrestrial farts to sniff.
“Oh, I’m sure the next few days will include plenty of pushing about,” said Loki. 
Tony raised an eyebrow and began following Banner as he snuck out of the room. “Be on the roof tomorrow morning. Oh, and uh, the quinjet has got some issues so it can’t go any faster than Mach 1.5 right now. Means it’ll take a little longer to get out there. Hope you two can get comfortable with one another real fast.” 
“You…you set this up,” you hissed, your anger bubbling to the surface now that your employer was out of range. “I ought to ask your father to hang you.”
This only made him laugh. “He would only love the pleasure, I’m sure.”
And I would love to see your corpse swinging by the neck, you thought.  “Why? Why did you do this?” you asked with frustration. “You hate me and I absolutely hate you, Loki, so why force us to be in closer proximity for longer than necessary?”
“Oh, I couldn’t stand the idea of being apart from you, sweet pea! It’s my greatest delight in life to always hover five paces behind you and piss you off. The mere idea of being so far away for so long!” Loki brought a mocking hand to his heart, expressing fake sadness in both his body and face. “My heart would only cry for you.”
“I should just make you go alone and make an ass of yourself,” you suggested. “Maybe some Australian hell-beast will swallow you whole.”
“Oh-ho! By all means,” Loki chuckled, throwing his head back. “Let me loose without supervision in a foreign country as the sole representative of the United States, the Nine Realms, and the Avengers. That will go over well for all of us.”
Your jaw hung open, no witty retorts for him, Unfortunately, he was right. Punking out would in one way or another, only serve to humiliate yourself and Stark.
“Ah, ah…” Loki tucked a finger under your chin, nudging your mouth closed by poking your chin upward, “You’ll catch flies.” 
He left you there, speechless in the middle of the room, only turning back in the doorway to add: “I’ll see you bright and early tomorrow, darling!”
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Before going to bed that night, curled up in your sad little futon in your one-bedroom loft, you prayed to every god that wasn’t Asgardian that there would be some kind of apocalyptic blizzard that popped up out of nowhere, forcing the takeoff to be delayed. Inclement weather was probably the only acceptable excuse for Loki to be a no-show down in Sydney. WHile the city didn;t necessarily get as much snow as upstate near the lakes, it usually took a few inches to shut the whole place down. There was hope. Perhaps the weatherfolks were keeping it a surprise…
This meant, of course, that the next morning was the first perfectly sunny morning New York had seen in weeks. In a small act of rebellion against the little shit you had to babysit, you chose to take your sweet time getting in. You purposefully dragged your feet down to the subway, your suitcase dragging along like a weight tethered to your wrist. You saw an abnormally-long line outside of a coffee shop and decided to stop in for an Americano. 
By the time you made it to the rooftop of Stark Tower, you were over an hour late, which was not typical for you. The jet was otherwise prepped, the diminutive young pilot tapping his feet impatiently by the nose, Stark and Loki just tossing the last of his belongings in around the side. 
“Look who finally decided to grace us with her presence,” said Tony. 
Loki dropped what he was doing and shuffled up to you. He gave a mock bow, taking your hand and laying a big wet kiss on the back of it. “My escort, how lovely to finally see your bright face ready for our trip!”
“Die.”
Loki pouted. “Oh, is that any way to greet your business partner? I asked for you to be at my side all week long! Don’t you think I’m owed a little more courtesy?”
“Please die.”
“That’s my girl.” 
Just before you boarded, Tony gave you a wink and one last piece of advice: “Remember, when the going gets tough, lie back and think of England.”
The last thing he saw before the doors shut was your middle finger. 
Once the pilot got the quinjet into the air, he announced that he’d need to take his time in order to appease whatever yet-to-be-diagnosed tech issue the plane had, and prevent something from happening. 
“Ugh, so what’s our ETA, then?” Loki asked impatiently, the saccharine facade dropping the instant he was out of Stark’s view. 
The pilot shrugged. “I can get us there safely in five hours, maybe.”
“FIVE HOURS?” you groaned. “This thing is--”
“--gonna disintegrate if I don’t treat it gently,” he shot back. “Relax! It’s still a hell of a lot faster than if you were flying in a Boeing, okay?”
You and Loki looked at each other with annoyance. You sighed and went to sit as far away from the cockpit as you could, taking a green-jacketed book from your shoulder bag and flipping it open a bit too dramatically. 
Unfortunately, Loki didn’t seem to take the hint, sitting beside you and peeking over your shoulder. 
“You kept us waiting on purpose,” he accused. “You’re a bit of a brat, you know.”
You couldn’t take it anymore. Gently shutting the book, you turned to Loki with the most serious expression you could muster without losing your professionalism. 
“Look, Laufeyson, you’re the one who set this up for us. If I had to venture a guess, it’s because you’re bored and needed a new way to make me miserable. But let’s make one thing perfectly clear: I hate you. I can’t stand your smarmy face and how you get off on making me crazy! Every time you open your mouth, it makes me want to drop-kick an orphan! I’d rather have a root canal while on ecstasy every day for the rest of my life than be sitting right here next to you.”
Loki didn’t blink. “...and how does that make you feel?”
“But I’m getting my big payout when this is all over, so for FUCK’S SAKE, let’s make this easy on both of us? You don’t bother me, I won’t bother you. You can find a kangaroo’s pouch to ride around in for all I care.” You went to open your book again, but Loki laid a firm hand over top of it. 
“I’m hurt. Truly.”
You snickered. “Sure.”
“You know what your problem is?” Loki leaned back, crossing his hands casually. “You’re too uptight.”
“Uptight? You call me defending myself against all of your abuse UPTIGHT?” you growled from behind your gritted teeth. 
“Well, it wasn’t abuse at first,” Loki added, “I was only making jokes to say hello!”
“Bullshit,” you said angrily. “The day we met, you called me a servant and asked if I would massage your feet.”
“Well, now it’s just fun for me to watch you lose your temper,” he admitted. “The thought of being alone with you to twist and push every button you’ve got just to see how loudly you’d shout…”
“Stop it, Loki! I’d rather this plane go down right now than be alone with you. Ever!”
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Tags: @anukulee @jiyascepter @wolfsmom1 @cakesandtom @holdmytesseract @simplyholl @lokisgoodgirl @mjsthrillernp @meowmeow-motherfucker @foxherder @letstalkaboutshtufff @ladymischief11 @libby-bibby @javagirl328 @crimson25 @lcolumbia1988 @gruftiela @mochie85 @huntress-artemiss @loz-3 @kikster606 @muddyorbsblr @sheris532 @lokischambermaid @kneelingformyloki @soulpiercing @goddessgirl43 @canigetanap @theoneandonlythorn @forleiasake @eleniblue @knight-of-the-doctor @goblingirlsarah @clusterfuck-meup @mischief2sarawr @cabingrlandrandomcrap @kats72 @glitchquake @zippythewondersquirrel @ameliariddle @alexakeyloveloki @lovingchoices14
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majesty-madness · 3 days
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Back Then - Husband!Sebastian Sallow x Wife!reader (sfw)
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Summary: As the first week of marriage comes to a close inside they’re new home, Y/N can’t help but to think back on the old days. 
Word Count: 1300+
Warnings: slight angst, kissing, newly married Sebastian & reader, mostly fluff, a bit of suggestive content (like one joke, and the ending)
a/n: Not proofread. Fucking love this game (perhaps a bit too much).
Main Masterlist
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It’s night out, Y/N stands in the lamp lighted bedroom, staring out the window overlooking the front garden. She can hear the crickets chirping outside and the fireflies are in full bloom in the darkened night. She’s already dressed herself in her white nightgown, the material soft on her skin. 
Though she stood in the house she shared with her husband, her mind wandered back in time when she met him for the very first time. It had been in Defense Against the Dark Arts Class, learning to duel with an opponent, and the words “Time for a proper Hogwarts welcome” caused a soft chuckle to slip past her lips. 
Even though he sounded overconfident, his words made her giddy with excitement and then she’d won. She had surprised herself when she managed to pull that off. And when he walked up to her she was expecting a snarky remark or perhaps a nasty comment but he’d said, “You give as good as you get.” He also smirked playfully at her before walking away and she couldn’t deny the way his words caused a flurry of warmth to rush to her cheeks back then. 
As soon as they’d met, she knew she was done for. 
Again a laugh escaped her and without her knowledge her husband had come back to their bedroom, fresh from his bath. Sebastian stared lovingly as he watched his beautiful wife laugh quietly to herself. 
Throwing the towel he just used to dry his hair onto a nearby chair, he silently approached his wife from behind and when he was close enough to gently wrap his arms around her waist she didn’t flinch or jump away, instead she pressed her back against his chest as she melted into his warmth. 
“What are you laughing about?” Sebastian asked, pressing a delicate kiss to the back of her neck. 
She smiled in return, “I was just thinking about the first time we met.” 
Sebastian hummed back at her answer, pressing several other kisses into her skin. “Mmhm, we met in Defense Against the Dark Arts class, we dueled each other, remember?” 
Sebastian scoffed, “How could I forget the moment I met the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen?” 
This caused both of them to laugh at the playful comment before Y/N continued. “I remember you walking up to me, saying ‘Time for a proper Hogwarts welcome,’ very confident of you I must say.” 
“Well I had a reputation to uphold.” Sebastian reasoned. 
This time Y/N scoffed. “Yeah, and as I recall I swept that reputation right from underneath you.” 
“That wouldn’t be the last time I was underneath you.” 
Y/N gasped then slapped him on the arm, causing him to burrow into her neck once more with a laugh. “Don’t be so crude, I was reminiscing about school.”
“Okay, okay, I’m sorry, darling.” Sebastian half-heartedly apologized although he meant no such thing. 
There was a pause as the two of them listened to the crickets outside, both taking a deep breath and feeling each other decompress in their exhale. 
“I didn’t realize it then, but that was the start of so many things.” Y/N uttered fondly, oblivious to Sebastian’s sudden frown. 
“The start of so many mistakes.” Sebastian spoke softly, almost repeating Y/N’s exact words.
Only turning her head, Y/N stared up at Sebastian as she observed his expression. “Don't do that to yourself.” 
He couldn’t help but to shake his head. “I can’t help thinking about it all. The desperation, the anger, the betrayal; I wished we had met in different circumstances then perhaps our fifth year together might have been normal.”
“Sebastian…” Y/N huffed, the makings of a smirk spreading across her lips. “I was entering Hogwarts for the first time as a fifth year student who could see traces of an ancient magic, who would complete these trails created by wizards from long ago to see their memories and ended up fighting a goblin turned dragon before the year ended.” 
Sebastian looked down to see his wife smirking. “Regardless of how we met, our fifth year was never going to be normal.” 
Just like that the dark thoughts whirling in were cast away by Y/N’s light hearted humor, and it didn’t hurt that she was absolutely correct. 
He let out a deep root laugh, nuzzling into Y/N’s neck once more and began to gently sway her in his arms. “I suppose you’re right, darling. And I believe that even if my situation hadn’t been what it was, we would’ve met eventually anyhow.” 
Y/N pulled away a bit only to turn to face him while still in his embrace, her arms coming up to wrap around his neck. “Call it fate. Someone had to keep an eye on you.”
“Well I’m glad to have had your company, Mrs. Sallow, even if it was to keep me out of trouble.” 
“To be fair, I didn’t do a very good job at it.” 
Tightening his hold around her back, he pressed Y/N further into his chest. “True. Probably wasn’t the wisest to send the ancient magic prodigy to babysit a no good scoundrel.”
He said it like it was a joke, but the regret quickly filling his eyes didn’t fool Y/N. Her expression fell into that of compassion and without thinking, she brought her hand up to softly caress the underside of his jaw. 
“Hey now..” The words barely a whisper as she spoke. “I love you and despite it all, I’m glad that I met you. I’ve never had any regrets about that so you shouldn’t either.”
“I love you too.” Was all he said then leaned in to plant a tender kiss to Y/N’s lips. First it was the soft, overly gentle kiss that most new couples share in moments of vulnerability but seamlessly turned deeper, passionate. The heat of lust rising within and fanning the flames of love that survived the hardships promised to every living being. 
Their hands began to wander over the familiar plane of their partner, taking note of the thumping heartbeat and the sudden warmth enveloping the skin. They continued this memorized dance for several more seconds, pulling away only when the need to air outweighed the need for the other. A light panting exchanged between the two when Y/N’s eyes had left Sebastian’s for just a moment to stare at the bed. 
“The sheets…” She breathlessly uttered. 
His brow furrowed slightly. “What about them?”
She looked back at him. “They’re new.”
“And?”
Y/N brought her hands to seductively fiddle with the two tops buttons of Sebastain’s nightshirt, only to finally unbutton them completely. “Annnd,” she let the word roll on her tongue for longer than necessary, “I think that it’s time that we break them in, see how they hold up.”
She could almost see the ways his eyes darkened at the promiscuous suggestion though he chuckled despite the heat growing in his groin. “Good idea, darling, it’s best we make good use of the new house. See what we can get away with.”
Sebastian had let his hand drift from her back over the plump flesh of her bottom, giving her rear a small squeeze and suddenly lowering his hands to the back of her thighs to lift her up into the air. Y/N let out a gasp at the motion with a sweet giggle bursting from her throat right after as she instinctively wrapped her legs around his waist as he carried her towards their bed. She gave him a few pecks on lips, continuing to do so even as her back was lowered to the plush material of the mattress. 
For the remainder of the evening, Y/N and Sebastian got lost in each other’s touch; not sure where one ended and the other began. And into the late hours of the night, Y/N couldn’t help reminiscing on how much her life had changed. 
Through all the pain, the battles, the injuries, and broken hearts, Y/N would always be thankful that she met the trouble making fifth year: Sebastian Sallow, a good friend and the love of her life.
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catnippackets · 23 hours
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one of my many beige flags is that I am completely normal with seeing anybody's personal headcanon of any character unless it's a character that I relate to so heavily to the point that I sometimes see screencaps of them and think "that's me", in which case I can only feel good about headcanons that also relate to me. you can make the most detailed essay length post about how he has a specific mental disorder and use tons of evidence from the show and make total sense but I'll still look at it and be like "but *I* do not have that mental disorder therefore he doesn't either". I won't like...COMPLETELY ignore any fan content like it but the entire time I'll be shifting uncomfortably in my seat like hm. this is not correct
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tsukimefuku · 11 hours
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blunt trauma ♰ nanami kento
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summary: your mission is to execute a curse user. the issue? said curse user is nanami kento, your former high school classmate and the man who you still secretly love.
tags and cw: dark content, no use of y/n, sorcerer!f!reader, villain!nanami, +18, explicit smut (mostly rough with tender moments hate/love sex), unprotected sex (wrap it, ppl), masturbation, oral (f receiving), pv, from enemies to enemies who fucked 👍, drama and angst (i’m a latina who grew up watching telenovelas), mentions of death, canon-typical violence, ptsd, cursing, hurt/no comfort, this man is saltier than the sea and turned it into everybody else's problem. 
wc: 7.5k
notes etc.: somehow it became a character study. this is my rendition of what i think gege would make nanami to be like if they followed their original plan and had nanami be a villain. inspo list is so huge i had to make a playlist, i got carried away.
writing/reading soundtrack: playlist link ; main songs → way down we go (kaleo) and daylight (david kushner).
disclaimer: i do not in any way approve of (or encourage) the relationship depicted here. it is toxic and bad for all parties involved. this is fictional and should stay that way.
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oh, father, tell me ♰ do we get what we deserve?
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It felt like the air had been beaten out of your lungs by the very one and only blunt blade you ever knew when you heard the news from Gojo.
Of course the first thing he did when he finished wrapping things up was calling you. If roles were reversed, and this had been Geto, he wouldn't expect any less from you.
During the School's Exchange Event, Jujutsu High was attacked by multiple high grade curses and curse users.
One of them was your former best friend from high school, Nanami Kento. 
"Are you certain it was him?"
"Absolutely," Gojo replied on the other side of the line, "there were traces of cursed energy from his cursed technique. He was also spotted by one of MeiMei's ravens."
"And how many students did he…"
"Two students from Kyoto."
Your head instantly felt dizzy.
"He also killed around a dozen assistants and people securing cursed objects underground."
"Shit… shit," you muttered, forgetting for a few seconds what words were and how to form a coherent sentence. Following suit, your stomach dropped with a sinking ache the moment you made the obvious realization, uttering the most painful thing you had to say in your life — even worse than he's gone, so many years before.
 "This will earn him a death sentence, won't it?"
Gojo was silent for a few moments.
"Hey…"
"Tell me. I can take it."
After a bated breath — from your end, mostly — he confirmed your worst fears.
"Yes. It will."
Ever since Geto's and Nanami's defection, you and Gojo had a special type of shared sorrow over each other's failures to save the people you both loved the most. Call it trauma bonding or codependency, but you developed an unwavering sense of loyalty towards one another.
For that reason, he already knew what you were about to ask him, and you only would because you knew he wouldn't find it in himself to refuse it.
"When it happens, please, have me be appointed as the executioner."
"Of course."
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Sitting with a glass of whiskey while gazing out of the window in an understated house just by the outskirts of Sendai, Nanami couldn't say he was fulfilled, unable to grasp the concept of feeling in any way elated ever since his teenage years. However, he was definitely satisfied that this plan had worked.
He managed to put a dent into Jujutsu Society, aiding Geto — or, at least, someone that looked like him, not that Nanami truly cared about it by this point — in retrieving multiple cursed objects that would be used for their inevitable fallout.
There had been a few casualties, though.
Two students and many personnel died — or rather, met their fateful end by the edge of his blunt blade —, but some deaths should be expected if Jujutsu Society was to be brought to the ground, down to its last brick.
Ever since that fateful day when he was nothing but a tall child sitting beside the cold corpse of his best friend, Yu Haibara, Nanami had simmered what would become a cauldron of absolute venom-dripping rage against Jujutsu Society.
To hell with saving other people — what about them? What about the teenager that would never grow to be a sorcerer, who became an inanimate nothing before ever getting the chance of making something out of himself? 
That face… Nanami could never forget it. It haunted his dreams, even a decade later. Such a stark contrast between the light-spirited smiles and this cold, gray monolith that laid in the morgue.
They had no right to rob their students from their youth, much less from their lives, but that's exactly what Jujutsu High did when they didn't even bother to check the mission appropriately before dispatching Haibara and Nanami to a certain death.
Nanami escaped, but just barely, by the skin of his teeth. Haibara, however, wasn't blessed with the same luck, and drew the short straw when his hitched final breaths met their end against Nanami's shoulder. Nanami, who carried his best friend on his back, desperately tried to win a losing race against death. 
Help was late to arrive.
They were too late for Haibara.
And, in a sense, they were too late for him, too.
The worst part, though, was when they were finally being transported all the way back to Jujutsu High. As he glanced over Haibara’s cadaver, now covered by a body bag, one particularly insensitive assistant very rudely stated, “at least there is a body to be buried.”
At least
There is a body 
To be buried
Those words echoed in his head for what felt like eternity. Was that the best they all had to hope for? To at least have remains left behind for the mourning?
In any case, that was why, even though he had to kill, Nanami never mangled any of his human victims — something not easy to do, given how his technique worked and how easy it was to split someone in half.
You had noticed this perverted benevolence while looking over the necropsy reports, a realization that just added insult to injury.
Let there be something for the funeral, I suppose, was what he told himself.
In his own twisted way, Nanami figured this was a kindness very few sorcerers received at their tragic ends, and decided he'd definitely be more compassionate than what Jujutsu High put their sorcerers through. 
In his eyes, those from Jujutsu High who died under his will were the ones granted a truly merciful death.
His peace was disturbed by the sound of the entrance door being brutally kicked in, flying its way across the living room. He pulled his blunt blade from the side of his armchair with his free hand, but quickly put it down when realizing it was you that had just barged inside.
He knew you very well — well enough to be certain you wouldn't come swinging at him immediately.
"I can see you still have a temper. Destroying the door wasn’t necessary, I would've opened it for you," he stated, sipping on his drink.
"I don't care," you retorted, "I guess you already know why I'm here, in any case."
"I do. You're here to carry out my death sentence," he stated, completely unbothered, as if talking about the weather.
As if he was just mundanely stuck in his ways. 
You huffed, placing your hand over your sword's handle.
"Precisely."
"We haven't spoken in a long time, why don't you take a seat?" Nanami inquired, pointing at the armchair right in front of him. "I want to finish my drink."
You glared at the curse user, as he, unfazed, kept gulping on his whiskey. Nanami was wearing a black buttoned shirt, black pants and black oxford shoes, and you couldn't help but see him as a grim reaper — this was a somber look, fitting for the equally somber man who carried it.
For a second, you took in his features — you hadn’t seen Nanami for a few years after the last time you crossed paths.
His shoulders had slightly broadened, and he still bore the same chiseled face, framed by his sand-blond hair neatly slicked back.
Nanami’s eyes traveled over you quickly, apparently doing the very same thing.
Time had left its marks. It was evident you both had grown up — and apart.
You knew this was a shit idea, but entertained it enough that you actually walked towards the chair and sat down. There were definitely things to be talked about, and you just about had a million questions for him.
Most of them, however, boiled down to what you immediately asked.
"Why did you do it?"
Nanami put his glass on the coffee table right in front of you.
"It was a necessary means to an end."
His words came with frost-bitten coldness, his voice embodying the monotone you once loved, but eventually, grew to hate.
You scoffed, incredulous at his reply, involuntarily clenching your fingers around your katana's handle as it laid on your lap.
"Necessary means to an end? Nanami, you killed teenage sorcerers!"
"As I said, and I don't like repeating myself," he interjected, "it was a necessary sacrifice for a greater cause."
"You're such a hypocritical, self-righteous ass!"
Nanami sighed, clearly displeased.
"We have always been able to keep some semblance of respect for each other, despite our… differences. Do not use that foul language with me."
You laughed bitterly, no amusement or fun in your voice as you did.
"Do you think I can still have an ounce of respect for you after what you did? You murdered my people! They were all sorcerers. You killed students, Nanami! Jujutsu High's students! Just like Haibara once was!"
He shot his eyes at you, and the aura of his cursed energy grew sinister at your words. 
"Don't say his name."
Yu Haibara, arguably the glue that kept the trio together. You were hot headed, Nanami was intransigent, and Yu was the conciliatory ray of sunshine that kept you two — but you, particularly — from constant quarreling as classmates nearly every day.
But back then, you'd argue with Nanami with love.
This wasn't the case now.
Not entirely, at least.
"He was my best friend too, the three of us were! Do you really think this is what he would've wanted?!" you questioned him, equal parts hurt and enraged.
"I'm not one to ponder on could've or would've been's. Haibara is gone."
"I'm not a would've been!"
You could still remember it. The day you realized why dealing with Nanami and hearing his sharp comebacks riled you up so intensely. 
You finally understood you were in love with him.
Ever since the first day you met Nanami, you envied the way he'd be able to keep his feelings in check when you constantly felt like falling apart. You felt jealous at how he was considered a greatly competent individual, regarded by all as the best of your class, while you were basically viewed as a ticking bomb nearing explosion. And finally, it made you livid the way how everyone treated him like the informal leader of the trio when the three of you were out on a mission together.
However, those were the same things that got you to admire your friend and, eventually, fall in love for him.
That day, you asked Nanami to meet you outside after class by himself — much to Haibara's dismay —, because you had something to tell him. It was a Tuesday afternoon, and the unforgiving sun of summer was already setting, casting an orange glow through the leaves of the tree you were both under.
After confessing your feelings for him and bracing yourself for being shot down, because why the hell would Nanami Kento, the brilliant, competent, and mature second-year, have any interest in the chaotic, hot headed mess you were, you realized he actually looked surprised. After taking a few moments to collect himself, Nanami told you how he had thought you actually hated him.
At last, somewhat nervous — but definitely intent on not letting it show —, he confided he had affectionate feelings towards you as well.
Your first kiss was awkward, as it would be expected out of two inexperienced people such as you and Nanami were at that age, but it carried the sweet taste of a blue spring marked by teenage years' innocence.
It felt like a promise.
Unfortunately, such promise was unmercifully cut short the very next day, when Nanami and Haibara were dispatched to their life-changing mission.
What an irony it was that, in the end, you were the one to actually mature over Haibara's death, growing up to be an upstanding sorcerer, loved and admired by peers and students alike, and Nanami was the bomb to blow up in everybody's faces.
What a cruel irony.
"I was there too, and I'm still here, having to pick up the pieces of what you deliberately destroyed!" you rasped, angrily.
"You weren't a 'would've been'? Where were you when we needed you? When I needed you?" his voice didn't conceal the tinge of hurt that those questions carried.
What a fucking low blow.
"Nanami, that's not fair. There wasn't anything I could've done in that situation, and you know that!"
You blamed yourself for a while for not going on that mission with them, until you realized that you too would probably have died if you were there. From the three, Nanami was the only one strong and fast enough to pull off an escape like he did.
He diverted his gaze back to the window.
"You were the one to bring up hypothetical scenarios. Let's indulge in them for a minute, shall we?" 
Nanami glanced back at you, and his next words brimmed with bitter resentment, even if his voice sounded more calm and collected than ever.
"You see someone you supposedly love slowly sinking into darkness. What do you do?"
"Don't you dare, you condescending prick! I asked you so many fucking times what was going on. You were the one who shut me out!"
Your voice carried a decade-old pain that resonated from the depths of your soul.
It came from all the times you entered his dorm room with his favorite sandwich after he had cooped up in there for days on end, and he didn't even bother to eat it. Every time you asked him to talk to you, said you were there for him, and was met by a vacant stare.
And, at last, the time when he cruelly blamed you for not being there when Haibara died.
The way he coldly told you about Haibara's last words.
According to Nanami, Haibara said he wanted to speak to you one last time, at least to bid you farewell.
And you weren't there.
Oh, the viciousness with which he blamed you, and decided you owed him something for this perceived failure. 
The next time Nanami talked to you, he asked you to leave Jujutsu High with him, just like Geto did, and swore to destroy them. You tried, pleaded, implored for him to reconsider and stay, but the very following day, you were met by an empty room where the person you once loved used to be. 
That emptiness had, paradoxically, filled you wholly with grief.
Gojo once told you that nobody could save someone who didn't want to be saved.
You still thought you should've tried harder, in a childish attempt at giving yourself an illusory semblance of control over that clusterfuck of a situation.
This is the gap inside our psyche that feeling guilty tries to fill, isn't it?
We can only feel guilty about the things we could've changed, right?
Your voice sounded decades older than yourself, burdening the weight of multiple lifetimes of hurt and grief. Your soul was too old for your own good.
"How can you find it in yourself to blame me for this?! No… This is a prison of your own making. You built the house of cards that is tumbling down on your head as we speak entirely by yourself."
He huffed intensely through his nostrils — Nanami’s version of a snort —, looking the other way before proceeding, each syllable hitting you with the deadly precision of his cursed technique.
"You abandoned us, leaving me and Haibara to fend for ourselves, just like Jujutsu Society did."
By that point, you began yelling, and your voice reverberated all across the room.
"The hell I did!"
You had to take a deep breath before proceeding.
"I just couldn't get behind this dumb idea that we should become curse users and bring down Jujutsu Society."
"Why didn't you come with me?" he finally asked, in an amalgam of pain, sadness, longing, anger, and stinging resentment. "I would have followed you to the deepest recesses of hell if you asked me to."
You huffed, laughing angrily in between your teeth, before thrusting your words like thorns against him.
"Funny you should say that. You'd go anywhere for me? How about staying? Why couldn't you have stayed for me, then?!" 
Perhaps that request was egotistical, but you didn't care. If only for a moment, you wanted to give yourself this small privilege — to want in a world of duty.
"I was the one actually left to fend for myself, right inside the belly of the beast, and you couldn't have cared less."
He stared at you, nothing in his eyes other than the void left behind after his spirit got killed with his best friend so many years ago.
"I didn't stay because… Because," Nanami stated, with a grave finality, "and you're the one who chose to stay. You're still actively choosing to, just like you did back then."
"That's not a good enough answer," you replied with a bad taste in your mouth.
"It's what you've earned," he coldly replied, "but in case you change your mind-"
"Enough," you interrupted him, incredulous that even after everything, this man had the nerve of suggesting you'd ever be interested in running away with him. "It appalls me you would even consider I could… After what you've done? No, never."
Nanami sighed, and for a brief moment, seemed to be actually disappointed under his resigned, polished visage.
"Well, then. Let's get this over with, at once."
In a split second, you pushed your chair on the ground, falling on your shoulders and rolling on your back, dodging his lightning-fast attack. It left a crater behind, right where you were seconds before. Nanami jumped over the fallen armchair, and you dodged him once again, spinning on your heels, unsheathing your sword as you did so, to deal a beheading blow on the back of his neck.
However, right before impact, you faltered, slowing down your movement.
Your own body held you back from taking his life.
He didn't seem to notice.
Nanami bent down just in time to avoid the blow, and swung his blunt blade towards your kneecap. You were quick on your feet, and jumped back, putting a good distance between the both of you.
"I can see you're actually fighting to kill," he noted, getting up on his feet.
"Of course. That's what I came here to do," you spat in his direction.
"You were never the practical one."
You scoffed.
"Guess I learned something from you."
He smiled at the irony of that, but his eyes didn't follow his expression. 
Nanami lunged at you, but while you thought he'd deal his next blow in your direction, he hit your footing, having you fall on the ground. Abruptly, his blunt blade descended in your direction, but you were able to catch it and have it slip to your side using your katana supported by your hand behind it, sending a sharp, loud sound around the vicinity, trembling against the bones and flesh of the house.
You rolled on your side when he struck a new hit in your direction, leaving another gaping hole on the floor, and you jumped yourself up. 
Before you could attack him, however, he took you by surprise, and you lifted your sword to defend yourself. Nanami hit your katana with his blunt blade, breaking it near where the handle and the steel met, launching your body back on the wall.
The impact knocked the air out of your lungs, and you fell to your knees, unable to recover yourself as you got up. Instantly, you heard his quick, steady steps sprinting their way in your direction.
You were cornered.
This is it.
You braced yourself for the impact, closing your eyes. You remembered his technique perfectly.
Precise, just as he was.
Deadly, just as he was, too.
You were to die at the hands of the man you loved, who had become a murderer and only a distorted, broken version of whom you used to truly love.
This seemed like an oddly cruel way to go.
However, the impact never came.
His blunt blade stopped as it was about to hit your stomach, and you opened your eyes, just to see his face mere inches apart from yours. His mountainous form blocked your view from anything else behind him, and Nanami, at that moment, actually looked like the menace he truly was. 
“Why were you appointed as my executioner?” Nanami asked, much to your surprise.
“I asked to be,” you answered, holding his gaze as something went through his eyes. A hint of anger, most likely, and some sense of betrayal, certainly. 
“So, you want to kill someone you once loved? You were always prone to self-penitence, so it stands to reason you’d do something idiotic like that.”
You scoffed, grimacing at him, feeling your entire body incandescent with rage.
“I fucking hate you, Nanami.” 
He inched his face even closer, brushing your noses against one another, eyes stone-cold and hauntingly vacant.
“I hate you as well.”
For a moment, you wondered if he had really stopped his blade before impact. You didn't expect it, but hearing those words felt like you just had been hit, victim of a blunt trauma, at how much they tore you apart. 
The same blunt trauma that severed the Nanami you once knew — the teenager with bangs, who'd always be carrying around a few spare changes to get soda cans from the vending machine for you and Haibara, in his own understated kindness — and this empty monster looking back at you.
"Good. Finish me off, then, and get your revenge for a crime I never committed. Being unfair and an all-around self-centered asshole certainly suits you, fucker."
His hand made its way up your neck, and you were pressed against the wall. The grip was firm, but not enough to choke you — it came more as a warning than anything else.
"I already told you to stop using that foul language with me," he ordered, low voice simmering with genuine irritation.
"Then make me," you challenged him, hoping for this torture to be over as fast as possible.
Just fucking kill me already.
His blunt blade fell with a thud on the floor, and you were confused for a moment, wondering if he really wouldn't give you the kindness of a quick demise. Did he plan on choking you to death?
Did he hate you that much?
His other hand came up, but before you could do anything to try to resist — which would be nothing but a futile attempt at survival, given that Nanami was physically much stronger than you —, his fingers snaked their way through the back of your hair, tugging it at the roots. 
His mouth clashed against yours, all teeth, tongue, anger, and hunger, and instantly every nerve in your body flared up with a raging fiery ember you hadn't felt in years. All the pent-up resentment, hurt, and desire you had for Nanami swirled together in your gut, guiding your hands up his hair, as you also pulled on it intently, robbing him of a gasp.
You intertwined your tongue against his, and he unceremoniously bullied his own inside your mouth, leaving no crevice unexplored, as his hand on your neck descended towards your waist, where he clenched his fingers with a vicious grip. You whimpered against his lips, and he grunted in return, pushing his body on yours. His throbbing growing cock could be felt, even through both of your clothes, as he pressed it right against the edge of your pants.
When you finally parted after what seemed like a not-long-enough eternity, you huffed and panted, and albeit less than you, he was panting too.
"I fucking… hate you…" you gnarled, glaring into his eyes. The hazel-brown gaze you once adored was now clouded and dark, like the muddy waters of a deep lake.
"Shut the fuck up," Nanami groaned back, strongly cupping your cunt with his large hand. You whimpered in surprise, and he pulled you in harshly for another kiss, letting go of your hair and sex to sink his fingers on the backside of your thighs, pulling them. You immediately jumped up and threw your arms around his shoulders, as he manhandled your legs to have them hooked around him.
He quickly took you both inside the room, and tossed you on the bed, having you gasping in surprise. Before you could catch your breath, he climbed his way on top of you, pressing your body down, and clashed his mouth against yours again, making you actually lightheaded from a lack of air.
You pushed against his chest, grunting uneasy, and surprisingly, he parted his lips from yours.
"What?"
You panted heavily, nearly hyperventilating, and mindlessly rested your hand on his cheek.
"C-can't breathe…" was all you mustered up to say, trying to replenish oxygen back into your system.
His eyes softened so discreetly you nearly missed it, and his cold-ivory enclosure slightly cracked under the affectionate touch he didn't expect.
Nanami had no idea how much he had craved it ever since you parted ways, and hated himself, just a little, for how much such an innocuous gesture stirred his old feelings up, throwing his heart against his chest in a fluttering rush.
I should be over her by now, dammit.
Nanami also brought his hand up your face, and ghosted over your cheek for a second before sliding his fingers delicately down over it.
You also weren't prepared for that, and your chest tightened all over your heavy heart as you remembered your first kiss.
The way he'd cup your face in his hands.
 So delicate, so lovely.
This touch, at this very moment, felt like a painful reminder of everything you had lost.
"Kento…" you cooed, voice strained in your throat, with all the things you were sure you'd never say.
He hummed your name in return, and kissed you while sinking your body against the mattress. This kiss was different, as his lips brushed gently over yours, and his tongue tenderly teased over the seam of your mouth. You welcomed him in, and you both explored these deep waters tentatively, as he upped the intensity after each stroke of your tongues against each other.
He tasted like whiskey, and bread, and the tainted love left behind as nothing but a reminiscence of less grueling days. You couldn't help but feel robbed by him.
You both had been missing out on this for all these fucking years.
"Why did you have to go?" you asked, pulling back from him, a tinge of anger to your cadence, and another of pain in your face.
"Why did you have to stay?" he spat back at you, equal parts saddened and resentful.
His mouth made its way to your neck, and you gasped with the sensation of his warm breath mingled with saliva against your skin, as he licked and bit his way around.
You couldn’t find it in yourself to push him away, and your eyes burned with the prickling sensation of tears that wouldn’t come. You were starved for his touch, his smell, his body, even if this was the murderer of your students, of your friends.
In your head, you felt like digging a hole and throwing yourself in it, to wallow in the misery of realizing that you were about to fuck the murderer of people you loved, and that it felt good.
A pool of heat and fire shot down your insides as your heartbeats throbbed in between your legs.
You hated yourself, and on top of it all, hated Nanami. 
Hated that you couldn't help but still love him, even after all he had done.
This was the setting tension in between the both of you, the two extremes of hate and love pulling against each other, all while the tug of war rope refused to snap to either side.
He pulled your shirt over your head, tossing it aside, and you undid his shirt, unzipping his pants. He unzipped you too, and quickly enough, took off your pants along with your panties with a single sharp tug.
Back to rough, but not entirely, it seemed.
His hand glided against your thigh and his fingertips slipped over your entrance, getting completely glazed by your already dripping arousal. He grunted, a guttural and intense sound deep in his chest, giving you another bite on the soft skin of your neck.
"Hate me?" Nanami asked, teasing his digits over your cunt, "doesn't seem like it."
You managed to scoff at him, which would prove to be a mistake.
"Go fuck yours-"
Before you could finish your sentence, he dove two of his fingers inside knuckle-deep, without any hint of a warning, forcefully stretching your walls around them. You immediately let out a whimper so pitiful you wondered if that was really your voice.
He seemed satisfied at that. Perhaps, even elated.
"Good girl," Nanami whispered right beside your ear, nibbling against your earlobe with his teeth, sending shivers down your spine. He began sliding his fingers in and out, and you bucked down against his hand while moaning and mewling, walls sheathing his digits as he finger-fucked your cunt, neglecting your clit as punishment for calling him a condescending prick earlier.
His palm rucked against your dripping folds, echoing wet slaps all throughout the room, as your arousal kept pooling on his palm.
He mumbled softly against your skin, bringing his mouth up to brush against yours, "hate… you still love me."
You instantly drew one of your hands to slap him in the face for this hurtful teasing, but he had quick reflexes — quicker than yours. He dodged himself back as your hand hit the empty sheets, and edged his fingers to hit against your soft spot, pressing it so violently, you let out a strained cry from the shooting overstimulation pain.
"Ah- Shit!" you shouted, face all scrunched up.
"Can't you behave for once?" he chided, "why is it so hard for you to j-just-“ 
Nanami’s breath hitched in his throat as he grunted, unable to finish his sentence.
You shut him up the only way you could think — grabbing his cock harshly over his boxers. It was extremely effective, and he immediately humped his length against your hand, while lowly groaning.
With trembling hands and a violent snap, you haphazardly pulled his boxers down to his mid-thighs, as his fingers kept mercilessly bullying their way inside you, sending vibrating waves all throughout your body with every thrust.
“Stop… telling me… ah-aaah-“ you rolled your eyes back with a loud moan, struggling to keep a train of coherent thought, gnarling your next words,  “what to… ah- do!”
His cock sprang out, slapping against his belly. The tip was already flustered red, leaking with pre-cum, and had a long, prominent vein on the underside.
To punish him back for the roughness, you grabbed his length with one hand, and with the other, pressed the middle of your palm against his flushed tip, glistening his arousal around it with enough force to jump across the divide between intense pleasure and painful overstimulation.
Nanami cursed with a feral voice through his teeth, immediately biting the side muscles of your neck with no semblance of restraint, making sure to leave a purple remnant of pain etched on your skin.
“Ah- ouch! Fuck!” you spat out, tightening your grip around his cock, but weakened enough to release the tight pressure against his tip, letting him fuck into your hand. His hips bucked erratically, and his lips pressed a quick kiss right where he had previously bitten.
He couldn't help it.
Suddenly, Nanami stopped his rutting fingers to press his thumb against your already throbbing clit. That instantly had you seeing stars as you cursed loudly in between moans and grunts, drawing your free hand to his head, ferociously tugging at his hair, as heat pooled in your lower abdomen like fiery embers of coal.
He grabbed your arm, pulling it away from his shaft, and removed his fingers from your walls, having them clenching around nothing at such a sudden emptiness. You began complaining, only to have your voice cut short by his tongue slipping its way inside your mouth, in a sloppy, wet kiss. 
Parting from you, Nanami’s eyes were glassy, and you were absolutely sure your gaze must’ve looked just as hazy as his.
In a brief moment, before you realized it, he slid himself down, and unceremoniously lapped at your already sensitive clit with his warm tongue, hot breath tickling against your sensitive skin.
Both of your hands descended towards his hair, brushing over his golden and now messy locks more tenderly than you expected. Nanami suddenly shivered and moaned into your cunt, edging his tongue down your folds and back, eyes fluttering shut the moment he tasted you entirely.
He felt a tinge of pain clench at his chest, realizing this was the taste he had missed out on for all that time — your taste, which would surely ruin him forever.
Nanami’s pain, however, was quick to turn into outrage, as he began sucking on your clit relentlessly, eliciting the most animalistic sounds you had ever uttered.
You instinctively tried backing away, and he pulled on your thighs, holding them with such a violent force that his hand was sure to leave an engraving of his digits over your plush skin.
Nanami was intent on dragging this orgasm out of you by any means necessary.
You had never given him anything he wanted from you — be it the company to fight against Jujutsu High or the same unwavering loyalty he had for you. So this was something he’d take.
If you wouldn’t be by his side, then the least you could do was to cum for him so fervently, he’d be sure to ruin you just as much as he felt like you had ruined him. You owed him that, or so Nanami thought.
“Aaah-- Kento! S-slow d-… fuck!”
You came with a thunderous shout, jolting your hip forward as your thighs tightened with inhuman strength to the sides of his head. Nanami made sure to deliciously lick your way down from your high, applying such a precise and perfect pressure on your clit that you could’ve wept from sheer satisfaction.
After your legs went limp, he slowly climbed his way back to you, pressing kisses all over your body, leaving a ghost of heat wherever his mouth traveled. When Nanami finally reached your face, he put his forearms against your sides, hands over your shoulders, caging you in, as he pressed his mouth against yours in a slow kiss.
You were floating in a calm sea, salty waves caressing your body every time they passed through, and it felt cozy. Inviting, even. As he parted his lips from yours, Nanami gazed into your eyes in the way he used to.
For a second, you got catapulted into the past, and the orange sun that warmed your cheeks through the leaves as you kissed for the first time seemed to shine its rays over again.
With his arms around you, the nonsensical feeling of being protected washed over your heart.
“Come with me,” he whispered with a sultry, husky voice. 
“Kento…” you cooed, sighing, wanting nothing more than for this moment to extend for infinity.
But it couldn’t.
You didn’t go with him, so many years ago.
And wouldn’t go now, either.
That wasn’t how it worked for the both of you.
Nanami understood it, and what seemed like another crack against his unwavering walls had formed the moment his brows furrowed above his eyes.
“Fine, then,” he said, with a tinge of genuine hurt to his voice.
You parted your thighs to accommodate his hips, and he obliged, guiding his hand down to align his cock against your entrance. You bent and hooked your legs around him, pulling him in, and as the tip of his length got pressed against your dripping cunt, he gasped slightly over your lips.
Nanami sunk in slowly, going through your already relaxed ring. However, it apparently wasn’t relaxed enough, or perhaps he was just too big, because you could feel every inch of stretching his cock made against your walls as he slowly bottomed out inside your cunt.
His mouth fell open and you exhaled a moan into it, breaths mingling together. You two drank each other in. Nanami pressed his forehead against yours, and you both held each other’s gaze, as he pulled your left wrist above your head, holding it there, pushing you down the mattress by your waist with his other hand.
After a moment for you to take him in, Nanami began rolling his hips into you, while his hand kept bruisingly pressing your wrist against the mattress. You could feel his balancing act of trying to love you and wanting to hurt you at the same time.
You weren’t so different from him in that sense, though. Your nails got dragged down his back with abrasive force, and for a second, you considered drawing blood from him. He grunted, and you saw the spark of cold-hearted anger flash through his now dimmed eyes.
You both wanted to love each other just as much as you wanted to hurt each other.
In a more forgiving universe, perhaps, he’d hold your hand tenderly, intertwining his fingers in yours. Maybe you two would be in the kitchen as he showed you one of his favorite bread recipes, and share quiet moments of understanding companionship when remembering those who had left this world too soon.
But this wasn’t that universe, unfortunately.
He was to die, and you were to carry out his execution. 
Except you couldn’t, because even if you still tried to cling on to any sliver of morals, even if his life was something yours alone to take, the mere thought of a world without Nanami was far worse than the reality of a world in which he was a murderer.
You insisted on fighting a losing game, and much to no one’s surprise, you lost. 
Good riddance to me, I suppose.
His grunts came hitched and stuttered against your mouth as he was now rutting himself into you, biting your lower lip hard enough to almost pierce the skin with his teeth. You moaned loudly, dragged around with pain and pleasure, the combo that seemed to summarize the gist of your relationship.
He let go of your wrist and descended his hand without a warning towards your already overworked clit, glazing his thumb against the ring of arousal you were leaving around him before starting to make circles around your nub. Your moans came out cracked and faltering, as you tried to resist the instinctive urge of fleeing that the overstimulation was eliciting.
“Give me… one more,” Nanami groaned lowly against your cheek, planting multiple kisses down the side of your face and your chin. His hair — which had already fallen from its usual slick arrangement — brushed against your fluttering eyelids, momentarily weaving golden sand colors over your your vision, and you drove both your hands to the back of his head, pulling him in for another kiss. 
You could kiss him like this forever. 
You actually wanted to, at that moment.
To his request, you nodded, and this was probably the first time you acquiesced to any request Nanami had ever made to you. 
Fulfilled, his thrusts and his finger over your clit became increasingly erratic, as he was now moaning your name against your mouth. You pushed your tongue over his, sliding your hands up his head to tug at his roots, and that was all it took to tip him over the edge.
Nanami came with a muffled groan, having your tongue still pushed inside his mouth, and kept pumping himself inside you trying to keep the comedown at bay. His thick, white cum got glazed all over inside you, and the slaps of flesh and skin began sounding ever more wet than they already were.
You weren’t so far off, with your walls fluttering around him, and he noticed it, keeping his now trembling thumb pressed and circling intently over your clit. With one perfectly applied nudge on your sensitive bud, Nanami finally pulled you over the edge along with him.
Some tears began pooling on the edges of your lashes, and all your emotions — anger, sadness, grief, longing, and a particular brand of despair you cultivated during the last decade — came crashing down as he wrenched your second orgasm from you.
Your body convulsed under him, fluttering walls expelling his softening cock out, as you shouted and grunted into his mouth. You didn’t know if you were more furious at yourself for still loving him, at him for loving you, or at Jujutsu Society for jumbling you both like pawns to be tossed around until you two were broken beyond repair.
Angry at them for sending the young out to have their spirits crushed too soon. For all the deaths no one got to mourn because there was too much work, too little time, and the wounded were always left behind to fend for themselves.
Just like you were.
And just like Nanami was.
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You sat at the edge of the bed while putting your shirt back on, and looked back at Nanami, who had his buttoned shirt open over his chest.
“Are you still resolute on your decision of not coming with me?” Nanami asked, with a tinge of eagerness. Or maybe it was just your imagination.
You pondered for a moment, and knew exactly what the answer to that question was.
“Yes. I’m not coming with you.”
For a second, you caught the faintest glimpse of the person he used to be. Something aching to genuine disappointment.
The longing that flashed through him, unfortunately, was quick to go, as he began buttoning his shirt down, averting his gaze elsewhere.
“Why?”
“Because I’d hate myself for the rest of my life if I did,” you stated, sighing before continuing, “and it’s not because I can’t kill you or because I love you that I don’t despise you. You crossed an uncrossable line.”
He pursed his lips, and almost felt regretful for the path he chose.
Almost, since regret now would come ten years too late.
“You can’t go back. They will know you let me go,” Nanami remarked. Be it from him or from looking around this house, Jujutsu High would surely hold you accountable for this — for willingly letting the curse user and murderer, Nanami Kento, escape their wrath.
“I know that,” you replied, a tad bit more defeated than you expected, “that’s why I’m fleeing to Hokkaido.”
He sighed and looked at you. You held his gaze, feeling a little hint of anxiety at what he seemed to be simmering under the surface.
With a warmer expression — or as warm as he could muster it up to be  —, Nanami spoke again. 
“I truly want you to come with me. You’d be safer. We’d… be by each other’s side.”
For a moment, you faltered, open lips with no sound coming out of them. Blinking yourself back to Earth, you asked, “you mean together?”
Nanami kept silent, but nodded, waiting for your response.
He wasn’t just asking for you to come with him, but to be with him.
You wanted to. You did. Something Nanami never knew was just how much you wanted to follow him when he asked you the same thing, so many years ago.
But even though you wholeheartedly loved him with every minute part of your being, your loyalty lied elsewhere.
Not with him, but with the people he had killed.
Well, at least that was the comfortable lie you were capable of living with.
It would destroy you to realize the loyalty you had for the murderer of the people you loved. 
In the end, even if you weren’t a teenager anymore, you were just as much a hostage to your feelings as you had always been.
The ticking took a long time, but the bomb eventually went off.
With a decade’s old delay.
“I… just can’t. I can’t.”
Nanami reclined himself against the wall over which the bed rested, closing his eyes as he supported the back of his head on it. 
He never told you, but this moment broke his heart all over again.
He felt pathetically small.
Guess we get what we deserve, after all.
“You really do have a taste for penitence,” Nanami noted, his voice barely concealing the bitterness that tainted those words.
You scoffed, getting up on your feet, ready to leave as the first rays of sunshine began bleeding through the thick curtains that covered the bedroom’s window.
“Go to hell.”
He chuckled, a sound you hadn’t heard in a very long time. However, it sounded off-key. Wrong.
Sad.
“We’re already here.” 
At the end of it all, he wasn’t wrong.
You were doomed to always keep leaving each other.
If only the world had been a little kinder.
But kindness, it seemed, wasn’t in the cards for you.
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End notes: I’m silently screaming. Oh my, this one took way longer than expected, but I enjoyed the writing process during every step of the way (I mean, if that wasn’t evident already from the fact that I made a playlist for this 😂). I forgot how much I was a sucker for gut wrenching angst. Hope you enjoyed it too! 🦉
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Tag list: @actuallysaiyan @diogodxlot @jadedjane @redlikerozez @voiceless9000
@marvelousfanfictionbitch @kentocalls @ohhheymessa @magical-girl-b @simp-manhwa
@codenamesongbird
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nana-b0b · 14 hours
Text
》🔞 These panels are censored, you can go to the last of the post to find out where to see them!
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A little historical info to better understand:
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♡♡♡♡♡!!! I really feel happy and overcome with these panels, I was thinking a lot about how to make them since there were several obstacles: I had never drawn something NSFW before as it should be 😅 I never got that far so to speak, there was always a line that prevented me from taking that step, since it is not the same to draw some small scene where you only see something specific to a whole pose as such and all that implies. But after many ideas and turns I managed to take that step (maybe small for some but for me it was like reaching the moon 😂) and the most important and most feared was that the essence of the drawings and the style would be lost but I could keep it well and make it coexist ♡.
Note: as for the text accompanying the panels I want to say that it's not my best work as a narrator hahaha I don't write anything since I was about fifteen and it was my era of fanfics and stuff, so I feel its very basic and empty! 😅 ♥!
Now, let's talk a bit about the panels! Well, as we all knew this moment was coming, it was no surprise -3- Ryomen really had to be patient to get what he had been thinking for a while, but he didn't want it to be something random as it could be with any woman he wanted, he was really curious to see how Aurora could look like with the full appearance of a lady of the Heian era and when he saw her, he just couldn't resist. One thing will be clear: Aurora won't wear black teeth again, there will be no way to paint her teeth again without someone losing a limb. As for her eyebrows: she's really mad about that, but I'll let it go.
And to close this post I come with a novelty (I've been thinking about this for days) now we are going to be able to have these drawings completely uncensored on patreon.
I'm not going to lie, using more than two social networks for me is already a lot 😥 if it were up to me I would only post everything in one place but we know how the rules are and we have to respect them, if just by showing a nipple (which is a pixel 😂 ) they almost censored me on Instagram I knew this would be difficult and Tumblr is not lagging behind, while there are things that it lets pass there are others that it doesn't and it's not nice to have to make such complex drawings so that the AI doesn't detect them as 🔞 since there comes a certain point that you get tired too and it loses the grace.
My patreon will be the place for all my works 🔞 without any censorship already, you are going to be able to enjoy both public and private content depending on the type of work ♡. I think also for me it's an incentive to be able to start letting go more of my ideas and continue with everything I want to do :)
To say goodbye first I want to always thank you for all the support you give me and all your messages 🖤 and second to warn you that this CAP of Ren will be in patreon already published privately but all the other censored drawings are public for you to see and enjoy them as they should ⭐
Here are the publications that I censored and that you can now see, there are not many at the moment x'D
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Note
Lena!! ❤️❤️❤️
I finally thought of a request for my fav MPIND Matty 🤭
Maybe something with girlie using a toy on him? Maybe a vibrator? Overstimulation perhaps?
-Sugar-coat-it <3 <3 <3
@sugar-coat-it This was supposed to just be a short blurb but i got way too carried away xx. hope u like it!!
Rush! - Matty Healy
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A/N: This was so fun to write!! MPIND Matty lives in a special corner of my heart i think i might never stop writing for him. @beforeyougo-turnthebiglightoff tysm for being my (half decent) beta reader and making sure this isn't totally shit. Enjoy!!
wc: 9k
content warnings: filthy, semi public?, but also not really, overstimulation, teasing, begging, dom! reader, most of the time, matty is a cocky piece of shite but we love him, grinding, bondage, marking, use of sex toys, specifically a vibrator, what else hmmm, both of them are high, so dubcon?, still in their right mind though, wow the content warnings are long
Everything reeked of cigarette smoke and cheap liquor, hints of Jimmy Choo’s ‘illicit’ lingering in the air around Matty. You scrunched up your nose at the scent, Matty obviously having doused himself in it while you were in the bathroom, straightening your hair. Soft music played in the background, Matty using his turn on the Ipod to put on some ambient stuff George had made (yup, George was a music producer now for some reason? Quarter life crisis vibes.) 
Adam was on his way, his little red Kia primed and ready for a good smoke sesh in some parking lot somewhere. It was nearly winter, which meant going outside was hardly an option considering neither you or Matty actually owned anything resembling warm clothing. 
“I'm not letting you wear my coat again. Remember what happened last time?” he says when he sees your ‘finished’ outfit; a pair of jeans and a sage green long sleeve top, adorned with white and beige rhinestones. How dare he even mention that day, the state you entered the house was completely his fault.
“That only happened because you booked it down the fucking street and left me there!” It was true. The two of you had been sharing his massive coat, both of your bodies easily fitting into it, up until he decided the last four blocks home were to be a sprint, and took his jacket with him.  
“Touché.” he grins as you shake your head at him. Fuck him, honestly. You tell him as much, his only reaction being a simple shrug of his shoulders, and his attention was back on his reflection in the mirror, carefully applying glittery purple liner to his eyelids, giving him a sort of emo-fairy look. Ross’d take the piss out of both of you, all dressed up to go smoke in a car on a wednesday evening, but you knew Matty already had some sort of comeback prepared, about how at least he groomed himself, and wasn't desperate to be a ‘proper’ lad (cue Ross chucking the nearest object he could pick up in Matty’s direction). 
Impatient as ever, you sigh loudly, trying to get Matty to stop hogging the shared vanity. You could always just go back into the bathroom, but his lightbulb was truly shit, and besides, most of the stuff he was using was yours anyway. 
Finally, you give up on trying to keep the piece, and promptly shove him off the chair 
“Stop doing yourself up and move-” he doesn't budge, hanging on to the edge of the desk for dear life, refusing to let you finish getting ready.  
“Violence is never the answer- Fuck off, christs sake, fine!” he whines like a child, getting up and throwing himself on the bed, and you cringe as it creaks loudly beneath him. 
“You love it when I hurt you, shut up.” you tease, watching the look in his eye dramatically change. “Not like this!” he shoots back, flipping you off before grabbing his Ipod, switching to something more punk, heavy drums and guitar filling the space. 
“Touché.” you repeat his own words back to him, and he rolls his eyes, sitting up. Taking the same brush, also using the same color, you frame your eyes with purple eyeshadow, trying your hand at a smokey eye. The two of you were matching more often than not, with Hann’s comments on it slowly getting on your nerves 
“You both look the fucking same, its like you’re clones.” he’d overexaggerate, just to get a reaction out of a easily riled up Matty. 
“D’you reckon Ross’ll have the good stuff this time? I can't deal with Hann’s bickering otherwise.”
You shrug your shoulders, looking at Matty from the corner of your eye. Maybe Adam’s comment rang somewhat true, seeing as Matty was wearing the exact same color scheme you were. Green Jersey top, definitely stolen from George, paired with blue, seventies style jeans, white and red trainers peeking out from beneath the too-long pants.
“I dunno, but we could go to the shop if it's shit, maybe get some wine?” you suggest. It was always 50/50 with Ross, and bad weed always fucked Matty off to no end, making him unbearable. Almost finished, you look around for your mascara, hands rifling through the piles of makeup littering the desk. 
“Where’ve you put the mascara?” you ask, slowly getting annoyed. 
“Left.” he answered curtly, engrossed in the newest edition of vogue. Sure enough there it was, bots of product caked around the cap. Coating your eyelashes with it, you hear Matty stand up and walk over to you. Setting spray topped off your look, and you run your fingers through your hair, smoothing it out. 
Matty isn't particularly strong, but then again, neither are you, so the strong hand around your wrist was useless to fight against, and you let him pull you up. Face to face with Matty, you quirk an eyebrow at him. What was he playing at? 
“You look absolutely gorgeous, darling.” you blush at the compliment, quietly telling him to fuck off, smiling as you see him grin at you. His brown eyes rake over your body, giving you a slow once-over, savoring the sight in front of him. 
“Stop looking at me like that-” he cuts you off with a tug of your hair, smashing his lips against you. Surprised, it takes you a solid few seconds to properly kiss him back, utterly overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of the kiss. His tongue immediately shoved past your lips, licking into your lips with fervor, drinking in every small gasp for air. 
“Taste like sugar as well, so sweet.” He pulls you back in, deliberately not giving you an opportunity to answer. You feel his hands wander, trailing down your back and under your shirt, caressing your bare torso. His fingers toy at the band of your bra, teasing the clasps. Refusing to let you go, he presses your body flush against his, and you can sense every inch of him on your skin, like electricity, the smell of him travels up your spine, intoxicating. 
The buzz of your phone snaps you back into reality. The guys, your plans. It takes every ounce of self control in your body to press your hand to his chest, effectively separating the two of you. Matty looks at you with a hurt expression, hands quick to cup your face, desperate to taste you again. Shaking your head, your voice is slightly as you tell him that the others are already outside. 
“I haven't seen George in like three weeks. You're not the only person in the world, you know.” George was up to his eyeballs in Uni coursework (yes, Uni), and hasn't been able to hang out since forever, making you really miss him. 
“I could make you feel like i'm the only person in the world, have all your attention on me.” he says with a wink, tracing your collarbones over your shirt. Matty was a hard person to say no to, with the way he peered down from above you, eyes wide, silently begging you to just stay.
“No.” you say firmly, grabbing your bag from the chair you were previously sitting on and slinging it over your shoulder. Instinctively, Matty takes it from you, holding it out of reach. 
“Can't have you carrying your own bags, what would people think?” he teases, pushing past you and out the door, his footsteps heavy on the carpeted stairs. You follow him, heartbeat finally starting to slow. Already at the front door, Matty waits for you to tug your boots on, leaning against the coat rack as you did. 
“What the fuck was that about, anyway?” The way he kissed you was passionate, hot, and definitely not something you just do on a whim. He tries to play innocent, raising his eyebrows and shrugging his shoulders. 
“Nothing, just wanted a peck.” he answered, running his fingers through his slightly damp hair, still not fully dry from the shower he had taken a few hours prior. You scoff, looking at him in a ‘are you serious?’ type way. 
“You fucking jumped on me, don’t be a such a dickhead.” you feel around for your cigarettes and light, smiling fondly as you realize it's the one Matty had gifted to you. “What was your end goal? You know we’re about to meet with the others!” 
“I’m sorry for kissing my girl, jesus,” he exhales sharply, hand reaching for the doorknob, a loud honk sounding from the other side. Swinging the door open, Hann looks truly fucked off as the two of you walk down the driveway and climb into the car. Now usually, you would sit in the middle, between George and Matty, letting you comfortably lean forward to talk to Ross and Adam in the front, but it seems as though Matty had other plans. 
Shoving past you, he settled into the middle seat, setting your bag on the floor next to your leather clad feet. George looks over, slightly confused at the new seating arrangement, but accepts it, going back to rolling the first spliff. The car starts, sputtering before actually turning on, Hann letting out a sigh of relief. There had been multiple occasions where his ‘precious baby’, as he called her, refused to start, leaving all of you stranded until Ross somehow managed to find the problem and fix it. 
“See, this is what I mean,” Hann gestures to you and Matty, facing primarily Ross “They look like fucking clones of each other, its weird.” Matty reaches past the headrest and tries to smack him, causing the car to sway slightly as his hands leave the steering wheel.
“I’m trying to drive, fucks sake.” Hann mutters, pissed off now that Matty had almost made him crash the car. You set a firm hand on the dark haired boy's shoulder, lightly pulling him back into his seat. His legs are firmly pressed up against you now, and you feel a familiar tingling sensation blossom under your skin. 
“Try to go steady, ‘m almost done.” George has this legendary talent of being able to roll the perfect spliff in even the most impractical situations, making him a god in Hann’s eyes. The car slows down slightly, and you see George lick the spliff closed, admiring his work. Matty immediately snatches it out of his hands, grinning from ear to ear as he sniffs at it, the smell filling his senses. 
“God, you’re so fucking weird, mate.” Ross grimaces as he eyes Matty, watching him try to evenly light the spliff, failing miserably. Both you and Ross couldn't stand the earthy, stuffy smell of weed, constantly begging Hann to roll down the windows whenever someone decided to smoke in the car. Matty, however, had some sort of hash-fetish, and absolutely loved the smell of it, hotboxes being his favorite activity ever. He thought it heightened the experience, which was a load of shite, but he believed in nonetheless. 
You were almost there, the Mcdonald’s parking lot being your end destination. Taking the scenic route, the five of you passed the spliff around, partially skipping Adam so as to not get him completely off his tits while he was driving. Matty agreed to rolling down the windows, seeing how nauseous Ross looked, with you not being far behind. Wind raked through your hair as you leaned your head onto the edge of the car.
Feeling at ease, peaceful and very, very high, you don't even notice Matty’s hand trailing up your thigh. He was just like that, touchy and overly affectionate with everyone, not just you, though, the type of affection did differ slightly. Scratching your skin lightly, you feel his fingers claw at the thin material of your jeans, grabbing hold of your panties through them. Your eyes snap up to meet his, and he pulls suddenly, letting go of the elastic. It hits your skin with a muffled smack, and you jump, noticing Ross’ eyes on you, peering over his shoulder. 
Slightly disoriented, you don't even register Matty wrapping his fingers around the base of your neck, pulling you in for a hot, definitely too passionate kiss. Yelping in surprise, you sigh, almost inaudibly, into the kiss, letting him take control for a few seconds. George groans as he spots the two of you, dramatically shielding his eyes. 
Realsing where you actually were, you pull away, shooting Matty a look that can only be described as ‘what the actual fuck was that?’. His skin is flushed, matching the color of his droopy eyes. Hann doesn't seem to have noticed Matty’s little PDA stunt in the back seat, blissfully unaware of the reason Ross was grimacing right now. 
“I'd rather not see you snog, thanks.” Ross spits out, making a fake gagging motion as his eyes meet George’s, equally as unsettled as he was. Adam hadn’t seen the two of you, but the mental image was enough to make him join the other two in their disgust. 
“What, you jealous mate? You can ask to join, it's no problem.” Ross laughs sarcastically, taking the spliff out of George's hands, taking a deep drag. He could sense Matty wasn't finished yet. 
“You’d have to shave first, can't have you shedding all over my girl.” You still weren't used to him actually calling you that. It felt off, especially with your three other best mates staring at the two of you, silently wishing Matty would just shut the fuck up, for once. He was killing the soft, chilled out atmosphere with his incessant loud babbling, making George roll his eyes until you were sure they were going to get stuck there.
Ignoring the various groans of protest, he pulls you back in, basically climbing on top of you now. You giggle, partially because of the distinct floaty feeling clouding your mind, and partially because of Matty’s complete lack of shame, making him snog your face off just to rile up his mates, not really knowing how much it affected you. You pretend to be annoyed, shoving him off of you, wiping your mouth to really drive home the point. 
“For the love of god, Matty, stop humping her, she's probably sick of you by now.” Hann says, making sympathetic eye contact with you in the mirror. He knew how you felt about the kissing in front of the rest of the group, not wanting to alienate them from you and Matty’s dynamic. The whole thing was a complicated mess. 
His hand is still on your thigh as you squirm around a bit, you manage to gather your thoughts and speak for yourself. 
“I quite am, fuck off, Matthew.” he tenses. 
Now, to anyone else, you sound completely normal, if maybe a bit fucked off. Purposefully putting distance between you two, Ross reaches back and hands you the almost done spliff, and you inhale lightly, finishing it off. Matty is uncharacteristically quiet and you know he can feel your eyes on him. A warning. 
He was prone to acting out like this, loud and obnoxious, almost bratty. To Ross, George, and Hann, this was normal, his fits a cry for attention, wanting all eyes on him, but to you, it meant so much more. 
Stubbing out the joint, you throw it out the window, dangling your arm down the side of the car. George was calm, collected, and seemed to be enjoying life as Adam finally parked in your usual spot, turning the car off. Spreading your legs out more, you bump your thigh against Matty’s, making him twitch slightly, a soft smile spreading onto your face. 
“Matty.” you say, his eyes darting up to meet yours.
“Mhm?” nudging him, you lift both your legs up and onto his lap, draping yourself over him. George is a bit startled, but guides you over his lap as well, letting your feet settle against the other side of the car, pressed up against the door. 
“Fag?” George asks, holding out a pack of cigarettes in your direction. You happily take one, and so does Matty. Placing it between your lips, you watch George as he hands Matty his lighter after he lights his. His fingers fumble a bit, before finally flicking it on and inhaling the smoke, letting the nicotine mix with the weed, his face nothing but blissed out. It reminded you of what he looked like when he-
“Here.” he mumbles, holding the lighter in front of your face. 
“Do it for me?” you ask sweetly, leaning your elbows against the back of your seat and the headrest of Hann’s, making yourself comfortable. His breath hitches as you shift, the bottom of your thigh pressing against his crotch. Two can play at that game.
The flame paints his face in an orange hue, and you feel the world close on around you. The way his delicate hand holds up the light to your cigarette makes your head spin, and not just from the weed. You feel George shift beneath you on the other side of the car, rifling through his pockets, pulling out a small baggie and rolling papers, getting to work rolling another spliff. 
Hanns voice rings dully in your ears, asking George to hurry up a bit, saying he was nowhere near the level of high he wanted to be at right now.
“Let me do it, stop nagging.” George's movements are slower, his motor skills definitely more than just slightly inhibited. 
“Good?” Matty asks, your attention turning back to him. His eyes are glazed over, red and half closed, and his hair falls over his face, indicating he’s long overdue for another haircut. Mattys hands settle on your knees, rubbing small circles over the bone, warmth blooming underneath your skin wherever he touches. You refused to let it show, opting to lean your head further out the window, admiring the stars glimmering above you, the cold of the night biting at your cheeks. 
Matty can tell you’re cold by the way you shiver slightly, and he feels a bit bad, even if he did tell you to bring some sort of extra layer. 
“I’m fucking freezing.” you state to the car, Ross turning around to face you, lowering his seat back a bit despite Georges protests. 
“There's a blanket in the back, I think.” Hann nods in agreement, confirming his statement. Knowing you wouldn't be able to reach, Matty blindly feels around for it, fingers meeting a slightly scratchy, but still soft, knitted blanket. 
Draping it over you, his hands linger on your waist, goosebumps forming on your skin as his nails graze your tattoo. 
George is finally finished with the spliff, and hands it to Hann so he can light it. He greedily inhales, letting the feeling overtake him. A soft groan leaves his lips and you see the back of his head slouch against the headrest, lolling off to the side. 
“This is some good shit, no wonder Matty’s so quiet.” Hann mumbles, half to himself. 
“Told you, my guy’s the real deal.” Ross says with pride, like he’d grown it himself or something. Putting his feet up on the dashboard, he leans back, head craning to talk to Hann. Their conversation is quiet, meaningless, with Ross going on about his stupid bass instruments and chatting pure shit to a half dozed-off Adam.
George is in his own world, gazing out the window and off into the distance. He was tired, you can tell by the way the rings under his eyes were dark and prominent, evidence that he hadn't been sleeping much these days. Uni was truly kicking him in the arse. 
A loud sigh from Matty makes you snap out of your thoughts, flexing your toes a bit, trying to stretch without bothering George too much. You feel a tap on your leg, telling you it's fine, and that you can move freely. George smiles at you from across the back seat, stoned out of his mind and looking like he was ready to pass out in the next five seconds.
“Y’alright?” you ask Matty, who keeps shifting around beneath you. One particular movement makes your legs spread, his big palms gripping the side of your left thigh, kneading the flesh. 
His eyes flash up to yours, and the look he gives you is fucking delicious. Lips slightly parted, wet and swollen from his teeth gnawing at them for the past half hour, the sight makes your thighs clench, a cough escaping your lips.
The spliff makes its way to you, and you take a drag, your lips wrapping around it as you make direct eye contact with Matty. Your lipgloss rubs off on the filter, and you hand it to him with a smirk.
“I’m fucking knackered, I need to sleep.” George's deep voice cuts through the silence, and Hann nods in agreement.
“We’ve been here like an hour! We never hang out, let's stay for a bit.” Ross protests, sitting properly and trying to face everyone at the same time. 
“Yeah, let's.” you side with him. Matty’s eyes widen at your statement, and he goes to speak. A sharp look makes him rethink his actions, and he slumps backwards into the leather, pouting at you. You grin at him playfully, seeing him start to do the same, before pressing your leg down, right onto his crotch. Underneath the blanket, not one could see what you were doing, giving you the perfect opportunity to fuck with Matty 
“Fine, but I'm driving home in 20, whoever doesn't want to walk is coming with.” The tinge of annoyance in Hann’s voice is painfully obvious.
Time passes at a snail's pace as you continue your movements, thigh pressing down onto his steadily hardening cock ever so slightly, not wanting George to figure you out.
“D’you reckon Britney’s a good shag?” Ross asks, and you realize he’s holding a magazine, Britney Spears plastered onto the cover.
“Mate, maybe you shouldn’t-” George starts, but another voice cuts him off. 
“Probably, I mean, just look at her.” it's Matty speaking, you realize. 
His voice is drawn out and deep as he holds out his hand, silently requesting Ross to give him the paper. He’s taunting you, and fuck, is it getting to you. The way his eyes scan over the cover makes your blood boil, and you stare him down, warning him to stop. 
“She’s fit.” He says, refusing to look at you as he takes a drag from the spliff, passing it on. His eyes finally dart over to yours, reading you like an open book. You were jealous, and he knew it. It was his goal, after all, to rile you up enough so you knew how he’d been feeling since that moment in your room. 
“Hey Hann? I'm feeling a bit shit.” you lie through your teeth “Can we go?”. Ross tries to stop him, but with the vote being 4-1, he groans as the car sputters on, and Hann backs out of the lot. 
You go to sit normally, putting as much distance between you and Matty as physically possible, not even looking in his general direction. Not really speaking to anyone, you listen to the soft sound of the radio, the music distracting you a bit. Matty’s eyes are glued to you, watching your every reaction, you can feel it. He silently begs you to stop being mean, ignoring him like this. You almost cave. Almost.
The drive feels longer than it actually is, George being dropped off at his house first. He waves goodbye through the window, which is the only reason you turned to the other side. Eyes avoiding the boy next to you, you blow George a kiss goodbye, hoping he gets some actual sleep tonight. 
You and Matty were now both facing forward, chatting to Ross. 
“Must be great, having an whole fucking house to yourself.” Ross grunts out, clearly still fucked off that you decided to leave so ‘early’. 
“It is,” Matty answers, telling him how nice it was to live without his parents and with you, even if neither of you had the ability to prepare an edible meal, or clean the house every once in a while. You chuckle as his words, painfully true as you think back on the state you’d left your room in, clothes and books and various items strewn about the place.  
Matty turns to you, your small giggles at his story making him think he was off the hook. You shoot him a look, and he immediately retreats, knowing it wouldn't be that easy. Not that he didn’t like a challenge, especially from you.
“Alright, you two.” Hann breathes as the car comes to a halt in front of the house. The soft rumble of the engine was deafening as you opened the door, climbing out of the vehicle. Matty followed quickly, almost banging his head against the roof, narrowly avoiding a small concussion. You tapped on the window, waving goodbye to both men in the car. Flashing a smile, you turn to Matty, grabbing his hand and leading him up the steps. 
Inside the car, the conversation quickly shifted. 
“What's going on with them? They’ve hardly spoken since he stopped trying to jump her bones in front of us.” Ross just shrugs, mind spinning different scenarios of what could've gone down. 
“D’you think they’re fighting?” Hann nods, noting that you did look a bit pissed off towards the end. 
“I dunno, it's weird though.. them being a thing.” Ross hums in agreement. 
“Just leave them be, they’ll sort it out.” 
The click of the door unlocking was as loud as a jet engine, and you push it open with your shoulder, Matty trailing closely behind you. You take your time, taking off your shoes, setting your bag down onto the floor next to the coat rack. He fidgets on the spot, not quite sure what to do next. 
Without warning, you spin around, shoving him backwards into the door, both your hands on his shoulders. The tension is thick, his heavy breaths loud and desperate for you to fucking do something. 
A beat passes between you before he finally speaks, stuttering over his words. 
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t h-have fucked you off, not infront of everyone.” you raise your eyebrows at him, a condescending smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. 
“So you knew what you were doing then, trying to rile me up like that?” He nods, Adam's apple bobbing in his throat as he swallows. He mutters out another “‘m sorry”, like it was going to save him at all. 
Your hands trace his collarbones, just like he had not three hours prior, and you see his breath hitch when you dig your nails into his skin, leaving behind red indents. 
“You wanna kiss me?” you ask, tucking his hair behind his ear sweetly, letting your fingers run over his jaw. 
“Yes.” he gasps, your chest now fully pressed up against his, your bodies now flush. Mattys eyes are filled with desperation, lust, thoughts clouding his mind and the sight of you wasn't helping him think clearly. 
“How badly do you want to kiss me?” he tries to speak, but you shush him. “How much do you want to touch me?” 
A guttural groan leaves his lips, and his hands find your back, grabbing onto your waist for support. You look at him expectantly, tapping his face to get his attention back on you. 
“Please, I'm sorry, just– fuckk, please darling.” His voice is small, soft, filled with want and desire. He pulls you in closer, and you feel him, fully hard, pressed up against your upper thigh. Your hand travels lower, pushing his shirt up as you go down, fingertips ghosting over his bulge, leaking and painfully hard. 
“This all for me?” Matty looks like he’s going to combust, but still, he manages to force out a small, choked ‘yes’. 
“You think you deserve it?” He freezes as you squeeze him through his jeans, feeling him twitch in your hand. A desperate whimper rips itself from his lips, and he buries his head in the crook of your neck, breathing shallowly.
“I’m sorry, just– please. I’ll do anything, just fucking touch me please, please, oh god–” 
You mouth at the spot where his neck meets his jaw, sucking an aggressive hickey into the skin, simultaneously stroking him over his clothes. Trying to seem unaffected, you pull away from his cock, placing that hand over his chest, hearing him whine at the loss of contact. 
“Upstairs. Wait for me.” Those four words manage to leave him absolutely breathless as he scrambles to tug his shoes off, throwing them into the corner. One last look is directed at you over his shoulder as he walks up the steps, almost tripping. Catching himself on the bannister, he disappears from view. 
You use the moment to take several deep breaths, steading yourself. Matty might be the more expressive one, but he had this effect on you, even if he didn't know the full extent of it. Every reaction you elicited from him made your knees weak, your façade of control slipping slightly. Running your fingers through your hair, you glance at yourself in the hallway mirror, making sure you look good. Good enough to send Matty fucking spiraling. 
The house is silent, apart from the odd creak of the floorboards underneath your feet. The door to your room crashes against the wall and you push it open, eyes immediately finding Matty.
Jesus christ.
Sprawled out on top of crumpled sheets, Matty’s eyes rake over your body, his cock visibly twitching in his pants at the sight of you. He had already taken off his shirt, the material bunched up next to him. The atmosphere in the room is heavy, thick with lust and desire and want and every other adjective that could be used to describe the fucking wet dream of a man currently sitting on your bed.  
His hands trail up his chest, toying with his nipples as he bites his lip at you, a wild look in his eyes. Your feet take you to the foot of the bed, kneeling down onto it, not quite sure where to look. His skin is flushed a deep shade of red, the blush spreading from his face down his chest, which was rapidly moving up and down as you reached out to touch him. 
“How do you feel?” your voice shakes, and you know he can tell. Does it actually matter to you at the moment? Absolutely not. 
An indecipherable sigh leaves Mattys lips as he looks at you, curls sticking to his forehead and his cock rock hard against the fabric of his jeans.
“I feel–” he starts, words getting caught in his throat as you trace the inseam of his pants. You still, motioning for him to continue.
“I feel so good, please touch me, I need you so bad. So gorgeous like this, love you so much– jesus.” 
You listen to his rambles as his eyes screw shut, everything being far too much for him. It's delicious, the way he squirms under even the slightest touch, involuntary noises spilling from his lips.
He trusted you, and you knew that well enough. Your entire relationship was built on a foundation of trust, a promise that you would never, ever, harm each other. Your hand reaches up to clasp his, squeezing gently. He smiles softly, wiping away the beads of sweat that had collected themselves on his forehead. 
Your eyes glance over to the nightstand next to the bed, the wooden exterior a stark contrast to the otherwise black furniture of the room. The bed creaks as you get up, slowly pulling the drawer open. Matty watches you move, fluid and sure, as you take out a vibrator, you hear a small gasp escape him.
“You want me, Matthew? Want to be good for me?” you grin at him, throwing one of your legs over his lap, settling right below his hips. The way his cock is straining against the zipper of his jeans couldn't be comfortable in the slightest, but you let him suffer longer, relishing in the way he whined whenever you shifted on top of him, just like he did in the car. 
“Will you let me use this on you?” That question is the final nail in the coffin, an animalistic groan ripping itself from the depths of Mattys throat as you palm him through his pants, beads of precum painting the front. 
“Please,” his voice cracks slightly, eyes silently begging for some sort of relief. 
“You know, you really shouldn’t have pulled that little stunt.” you speak, voice dripping with honey as you unbuckle his belt, the clanking metal making your heart speed up. Unable to speak, Mattys hands go to settle on your waist, gripping the fat of your hips. 
“No.” 
“W-what?” 
His chest heaves as you grab hold of his wrists, pinning them up above his head. The belt he wore with his pants, while usually completely unnecessary, suddenly proved quite useful. Your hands fumble a bit as you bring the leather up, binding his hands to the metal bed frame. The arousal plastered on his face was impossible to hide as he gives the belt a tug, sucking in a deep breath of air when he realized what you’d just done. 
“You’re so fucking– holy shit, you’re perfect.” his praises go straight to your core, and you grind down onto his thigh, feeling around for the vibrator that you’d placed somewhere next to you. 
Towering over him, you observe. 
It feels like you're daydreaming, the man in front of you just a figment of your dirty, vivid imagination. His skin glistened with sweat, and your eyes flicker down to the bulge in his black calvins. If there was a heaven, you’ve definitely reached it. 
Running your fingers up and down the vibrator, you grin at him, watching his thoughts run wild, every possible fantasy playing out right in front of his eyes. Clicking the toy on, you rake your nails over his chest, the loud vibrations filling the room. 
You had never done this before, but the utter look of devotion Matty gave you proved that he trusted you completely to do whatever you wanted to him. He follows your movements closely as you press the toy to the underside of his cock. Immediately, you see his eyes clamp shut, his hands instinctively pulling and fighting against the restraints. 
“You like that, baby? Feel good?” you coo at him, taking in every single twitch of his body, savoring it. He frantically nods his head as you move his boxers, letting his cock slap up against his stomach. The feeling of the vibrator straight onto his weeping erection felt like pure heaven, desperate moans spilling from his lips, unable to control his own actions. 
“F-feels so good, it’s so good, a-ah, fuck me–” he whimpers as you up the speed, your free hand cupping his face, smudging his eye makeup. Blissed out and shaking, Matty tries to hold off as long as possible, desperately wanting to be good for you.  
“I can’t– I'm so close, please, let me cum.” his eyes search your expression, begging for permission. Pleasure trickles up your own spine as a sudden movement of Matty’s thigh beneath you makes you grind against him again, a soft moan leaving your parted lips. You swear you could cum just from the sight of him alone, twitching and begging and so, so close to the edge he could taste it on the tip of his tongue. 
Shoving your fingers into his mouth, you watch as he chokes slightly, eyes welling up with tears. It's so unbelievably erotic, seeing him fall apart like this, all because of you. His dick twitches in the tell-tale way that lets you know he’s seconds away, just needing a little push. You lock your lips onto his neck, licking and sucking and biting marks into the skin, making him moan around your fingers. It's all too much for him, and his voice cracks once more before spilling into your hand, painting his stomach and the toy with ropes of thick cum, gasping and shuddering as you keep the vibrator against his cock, working him through his orgasm. 
You finally kiss him, fingers weaving through his hair as you lick into his mouth, his arms still helplessly trying to pull free. 
“That was– fuck– I can’t even describe it.'' His voice is raspy, sore. He looks utterly fucked out, a sly grin already adorning his face not ten seconds after you gave him the most mind blowing orgasm of his life.
“You dont think I'm done, do you? After the shit you pulled in that car?” 
Your sudden change in tone makes Matty’s eyes widen, his hips bucking up against you. The evil look in your eye as you lean down to catch his lips in a kiss only makes him impossibly more turned on, fingers itching to touch you, a groan of frustration leaving his lips when he realizes he can't do anything but lay there and take what you give him. You move, one of your hands leaving his chest. 
“What are you–?” The click of the toy is impossibly loud as a wanton moan rips itself from his throat, his hips twitching away, the sensation overwhelming and raw, almost too much. You grin from ear to ear as you study his reactions, writhing and pulling at the belt holding him in place, eyes silently begging you to just let him go.
“A-ah oh fuckk, no- I can’t–” he cries, arching his back, exposing his neck even more, adam's apple bobbing in his throat as he tries to swallow down his sounds
“You can, I know you can.” you lick across the expanse of his collarbones, teeth grazing the skin harshly, the slight pain only making Matty thrash more, the leather of the belt digging into his wrists.
“It’s too much– jesus christ-” he chokes out as you tangle a hand into his thick curls, tugging his head forward, making him look at you.
“Look how desperate you are, you sure it's too much?” you press a kiss to his lower stomach, his muscles tense under the skin.
“I need you so bad, fuck,” he sucks in a deep breath, making direct eye contact with you.
“Look at what you do to me.” 
His sudden change in tone makes you take a second, truly taking in the sight before you. He smirks when he sees you staring, arching his lower back with the sole purpose of riling you up, knowing exactly how to get to you, and in turn, get what he wanted. 
“Such a slut, fucking begging for attention, aren’t you?” he nods slowly, winking at you provocatively as his eyes follow your movements. The name made his breath hitch, and the return of the toy back on his hardening cock feels like pure ecstasy, moans and whimpers spilling from his lips as you continued speaking. 
“Was it worth it?” he cocks his head at you, asking what you meant. 
“Was it worth it, fucking around in the car, embarrassing me like that?”  
“Absolutely, if it gets me this.” he purrs, trying to provoke you once again. You were going to make him eat his words if it was last fucking thing you were going to do.
“You have a lot of confidence for someone who was grinding against my leg under a blanket not even an hour ago.” A small laugh comes from Matty as he playfully tugs at the restraints, the sound morphing into a moan when you press the toy down harder, feeling him getting close again. 
“Gonna cum again, make a filthy fucking mess of yourself?” Matty is so far gone, his cocky persona falling away in bits as he bucks his hips against the vibrator, chasing his high. You watch him, sweaty and out of breath, his hands straining against the leather, the mix of pain and pleasure making his head spin. 
“I love you so much, please let me cum, please i’ll do anything, just let me cum–” there it is. Anything. He doesn't know the weight his words hold, willing to say everything and anything for you to let him fall over that delicious edge.    
“Cum for me, let me see you.” your voice shakes, one hand planted firmly on his chest for balance, while the other holds the toy to his cock, twitching and leaking all over himself and you as he cums, screaming your name loud enough that it echoed through the whole house. 
You watch as he shakes, gasping for air and writhing against the sheets, so overstimulated he could barely form a coherent thought. 
“Again.” you whisper as Matty shakes his head violently, tears welling up in his eyes. 
“Do you want to stop?” he shakes his head again, hips bucking up against the toy, desperate whines and groans filling the room. His chest heaves, lungs expanding as far as they could go to try and bring some oxygen to his brain. Breathless and exhausted, he looks at you, eyes wet and pleading, the mix of pain and pleasure driving him insane. 
“Don’t s-stop.” he begs, voice sore and hoarse. Thoughts run widely through your mind, wondering how much more he could take before tapping out. “If you need to stop, tell me.” you say firmly, his frantic nods telling everything you needed to know. Clicking the toy back on, the reaction is immediate, visceral as he jerks under the warm feel of your lips on his jaw, pressing hot kisses down the skin, mouthing at his neck. 
Pulling back, you admire the deep purple marks you left behind, tracing them with your free hand. 
“You’re fucking glorious- I- I could look at you forever, so pretty on top of me, fuck, like a fucking wet dream, so perfect–” you listen to him babble through curses and moans, eyes drooping shut as he bucks up into your hand. 
“Yeah? You’re so gorgeous for me, taking everything I give you.” you whisper back, pupils completely blown out with lust, the high you were still yet to come down from heightening every feeling, every sensation, until you were grinding against his thigh, desperate for him. 
“I see you, baby,” your eyes snap up to his, a filthy smirk spread onto his face, “C’mon, use me like a toy, use me to get off.” his voice is sultry and low, working hard to bite back screams as you finally give in, sparks of electricity shooting up your spine as you increase the pressure on your clit, soft moans and gasps spilling from your lips as Matty tenses his thigh, lifting it slightly to meet your movements. 
“Don’t cum until I tell you.” you warn, refusing to give up power, even if Matty made it incredibly fucking difficult to not give in. His eyeliner was smudged, tears streaming down his face, your fingers wiping them away sweetly. You bring your tear soaked hand to your mouth, licking it clean while making direct eye contact with Matty, the expression on his face making the salty taste on your tongue completely worth it.
It didn't take much to bring you to the edge, the warmth in your core blooming everywhere else in your body, your blood feeling hot as you balance yourself. Being met with Matty’s smirk as you look up, the smugness quickly morphs into white hot pleasure when your hand finds his nipple piercing, giving it a small tug. 
You had convinced him to switch it out, the black metal ring being replaced with a purple barbell. It shimmered if you looked at it from a specific angle, a perfect contrast to his milky white skin, suiting him well. He gasps when you don't let up, tweaking the metal and rolling his nipple between your fingertips, an indescribable feeling radiating from his chest, making all the remaining blood in his brain rush down south. 
You were so close, you could taste it. Matty knew this, doing his best to get you there, just as you were doing for him, holding off his own orgasm. Filthy words leave his mouth, making you feel dizzy with pleasure, the feeling of his jean clad thigh against your clit making your legs shake on top of him. 
“So good, you’re so good– fucking marvelous, I could write a thousand songs about you like this.” he groans, eyes never leaving the spot where your core met his leg, watching closely. 
“I’m so close, fuckk.” you whine, your high pitched voice like music to Matty’s ears, his cock visibly twitching against the toy. 
“Cum for me darling, wanna see you fall apart on top of me.” he coos, and you feel your control slipping. It was all consuming, the pleasure making time slow as you barely manage to slow down to speak. 
“You first.” A relieved sigh leaves Matty’s lips, hips bucking violently, precum bubbling from his tip, coating your hand where you held the toy against it. One last arch of his back and he cums onto his stomach, painting his skin white. 
You groan at the sight, your own orgasm hitting you like a freight train, vision whiting out as you buck against Mattys thigh, his eyes burning a hole into your skin. He watches in awe as you gasp and stutter, the visual of his third climax too much for you to handle, carnal desire overtaking your body. 
Collapsing on top of him, your chest heaves against his, everything blurry and disoriented. He tried to move his hands to your back to hug you, but realizes he’s still tied up, the leather really digging into his skin, leaving angry red marks. 
“Darling?” you look up, apologizing profusely as you undo the belt around his wrists, kissing the burns it left behind. Matty chuckles quietly, running a soft hand through your hair, pressing your face into his chest. 
“That was..” he starts, eyes still wide in disbelief. 
“Okay?” you offer a hint of insecurity evident in the way you speak.
“Fucking amazing, visceral, undescribable, life chang-” you cut him off with a firm kiss, silently telling him to shut up. He giggles into the kiss, his other hand pressing against your lower back, pulling you impossibly close. 
“It wasn’t too much?” you ask, gesturing to the marks on his wrists. He shakes his head, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. He assures you it doesn't hurt at all, and besides, “You know I like it when you hurt me.” The cheesy wink that follows his statement makes you roll your eyes, leaning down to breathe in the scent of him. Fucking Jimmy Choo, ugh. 
“You have to stop using my perfume, you smell like a woman, it's unsettling.” you complain, wishing he’d use some sort of musky cologne instead. 
“I thought you liked it when i'm girly? Remember that time when I wore that skirt and you fucking mauled me–'' he tries to tease, being rudely interrupted by you digging the heel of your foot into his leg, making him yelp in pain. 
“That was different,” you mutter, avoiding his taunting gaze. 
“Was it?” 
“Absolutely, yes, now come here.” you grip his jaw, crashing your mouth against his, biting his lower lip, enjoying the small gasp he lets out. The kiss is hot, filled with love and trust, your heart swelling up in your chest. 
“Don’t ever pull that shit again, George could have noticed and that would've been a complete shit show-” you shudder at the thought of your mates knowing anything about your sex life, gagging inwardly.  
“You were the one grinding your leg down on to my dick, don’t act all fucking innocent!” he protests, a playful tone to his voice. 
“Imagine Ross knowing anything about what we do, he’d lose his mind.” you comment. Knowing him, he’d physically throw up and never speak to either of you ever again, the mental image having scarred him for life.
Matty is oddly silent, his hands fidgeting. Your eyes widen in realization 
“Dont tell me you fucking– Matty!” you shut your eyes, embarrassment flooding your body. 
“He’s my mate, and he asked. Who am I to deny him?” you hit his chest, propping yourself up as you laugh in disbelief. 
“Ross asking doesn't make it any better!!” you screech, watching him pull back at the sheer volume of your voice “For fuck’s sake Matty, what did you even tell him? I’m never going to be able to look him in the eye again, fucking hell.”  
“Just about the camera, nothing else, I swear!” you cup your face, letting out a frustrated groan. 
“You know I can never speak to him ever again? The fucking camera, are you taking the absolute fucking piss?!” you throw curses at him as he giggles into your hair, muttering apologies and promising to never say anything again.
“‘M sorry darling, i won't give out the details of our sex life anymore.” he jokes, earning a choked giggle from you, unable to stay mad at him. 
Looking up at him from your spot on his chest, anger fades as you take in his features. You could look at him forever if he let you, drinking in every inch of skin, committing it all to memory. Your fingertips touch the top of his cheeks, wiping away any left over make-up, smiling fondly as you do so. 
Love. That's what you see in his eyes. Pure love, utter devotion. His breathing is slow, the soft sound of his heartbeat comforting as you lay back down onto him, nuzzling your face into his skin. You could stand the permeating stench of Jimmy Choo if it let you hold him this close to you. 
“You’re mine.” he mumbles into your hair, stroking up and down your spine, pushing your shirt up. 
“I’m yours,” you answer, this overwhelming feeling of adoration taking over your whole body. Matty was yours, and you were his, from the second he said the words ‘I love you’ that night on the terrace, overlooking the glowing city. 
Life with him seems so real. Growing up properly, getting your own house, getting married. It was all possible, still, it felt far away, a distant future. You let your thoughts spin in your mind until the exhaustion won, your body going slack against Matty, soft snores filling the room.
Matty lays awake beneath you, the darkness of the room enveloping his senses. 
“I love you so much,” he mutters under his breath, knowing you couldn't hear him anyway. That was the moment he knew, the moment everything solidified.
You were just kids, the pair of you, young and free, life filled with infinite possibilities. So much was uncertain, but he knew one thing without a doubt. Eyes flickering over to his coat, they fell on the outermost left pocket. It wasn't about the pocket itself, but what was inside. Dark red velvet, the same shade as your favorite color. A box. 
A small one.  
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yesimwriting · 2 days
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we need more felix and lovie content i miss themmm
i miss them too,, i have so many drafts and half finished fics with them but i've had so little energy/time to actually finish any of them bc of finals
but i'm pretty caught up with school rn (by tuesday i'll be on summer break!!) so here's a bit of an i'm-sorry-for-being-absent drabble :)
The nail of your thumb drags against the edge of the page, finally getting the glue to fully adhere to the page.
You press your back against the wood surface of your desk chair to admire your handiwork. The background of your latest scrapbook page has come together just the way you wanted it to. You pick up the book carefully before turning your body.
"Lex," you beam.
Felix doesn't sit up fully, but he does lift his head. The arm holding up his copy of the latest Harry Potter relaxing. "Oh," he mumbles it in that way that reminds you of one of the things you like best about him. He has this talent for giving attention. Where other people would just be polite without a second thought, Felix takes the time to really look before commending.
He pushes himself up in a way that awkwardly squishes your pillow. "That's good." Felix straightens, legs crossing beneath him. "That's really good, Lovie." His thumb tucks itself between the pages of his book, a make shift bookmark. "The edges, the paper..."
"Thank you." Another thing you love about Felix is the fact that you can always tell he means his praise. You turn forward, setting your scrapbook back onto your desk. "You should make one."
The corner of his mouth pulls itself into a version of a smile that's so soft you almost miss it. "Yeah?" You nod. Felix's smile shifts into something more assured. "Maybe tomorrow night."
You try to picture Felix spending a Saturday night in either your room or his, cutting up scraps of paper and gluing them down instead of at a bar or some party. The thought makes your feel warm in that way that's so exclusively Felix. It also feels blurry, intangible in its unlikeliness.
As happy as it'd make you, tonight was already surprising enough. It's not like Felix goes out every night, and this isn't the first time the two of you have stayed in on a Friday, but nights like these are rare. You can't picture two of these in a row.
"Tomorrow?" You pull your legs out from under your desk, entire body angling itself to the side so that it's easier to look at him. "Tomorrow's Saturday."
He lets out a partial laugh. "And you're dying for a rager?"
"No," you mumble, dragging out the vowel sound in an attempt to sound more sarcastic. "But you like going out." You lean forward, resting your chin against the chair's back. "And it's not like I hate going out, especially with you..." You trail off, eyes shifting away from Felix and towards the bed post closest to you. "And I don't want to be the reason you don't do things you like."
For a beat, the only sound is the low, rhythmic tapping of Felix's pointer finger against the spine of his book. "I like a lot of things."
You lift your head. "I know."
"I like doing things with you."
The warmth comes back with a vengeance. You tap your thumb against the side of your seat for the sake of doing something. "Me too."
Felix shifts, extending one leg to make himself more comfortable. "Good." He's so quiet for a second, you almost think that might be the end of the conversation. You're about to go back to picking out the pictures to finish off the page you'd been working on when he starts again, "So you don't need to worry about me resenting you."
Your eyes narrow. "I didn't say anything about you resenting me." Your chin lifts slightly, an attempt at displaying your indignation. "Why are you saying it like that was an option?"
He grins, dropping himself back onto your pillow. "No reason."
You roll your eyes at his sarcasm. He's the one that came over to your room without being asked to. "Sure."
"What?" His tone implies nothing but perfect innocence. He picks up his book, opening it as if he's done nothing wrong. "Y'should come over here before the resentment sets in and I lose all interest."
You let out a loud sigh, but move to stand regardless. "Yeah, that feels like a real possibility."
When you don't move, Felix glances away from his book. "You're not gonna come over here?" He looks up at you, a hint of a pout playing at his expression. "I was kidding."
You cross your arms, fighting against a smile. "I just stood up." That's not enough to convince him to stop looking at you like that. You take a few steps forward with a sigh that's more out of habit than anything else. "You are so dramatic."
You sit on your bed, crossing your legs beneath you. Felix shifts onto his side. His freehand finds your knee. "You cried because of this book."
Eyes narrowing, you lean forward to get a better sense of how far into the book he's gotten. "Wait a few chapters."
Felix snaps his head in your direction, "Lovie. You said you wouldn't--" Your sentence runs into his, "I didn't--I didn't spoil it."
He frowns, watching you skeptically. "That was mean."
"You started it." You're aware that you sound like a little kid, but you can't help it. With a sigh, you give up, laying down. He's taking up most of your bed, but you're far from uncomfortable. "Fine. I'm sorry."
With little warning, Felix leans forward and presses a kiss against your temple. "Want me to read to you?"
You're used to Felix's random displays of affection, but every once in awhile something will take you by so much surprise you feel it more than you should. You blink. "Yeah," you mumble, hoping that your voice comes out even, "Sounds nice."
Felix shifts onto his back, one hand finding your arm and the other holding his book.
----
taglist; @vader-is-hot @spiritofbuddha @getosangie @freyafriggafrey @ilovehyperfixating @aryiannarae @willowpains @ker0senebunny @lilyrachelcassidy @khxna @imbabycowboy
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letstalkhockey · 1 day
Text
𝙎𝙪𝙧𝙫𝙞𝙫𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝘾𝙖𝙢𝙥 𝙈𝙞𝙘𝙝𝙞𝙜𝙖𝙣; 𝙋𝙧𝙤𝙡𝙤𝙜𝙪𝙚
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SUMMARY: Inwhich people change, and so does summer camp. Teenagers all spending summer together; with y/n falling in love with no other than Jack Hughes, will rivalry's and rules keep them apart? Or will status and no other than Jack himself, ruin everything?
WARNINGS: 18+ CONTENT *I do not encourage you to go beyond this point if you are sensitive to any further topics. MINORS DNI - Violence, Smut, Indications to smut, Alcohol & substance use, swearing, cheating, mentions to serious topics, etc.
NOTE: Welcome to the Prologue, which is the shortest part to this story. I apologize for not making it longer, but this prologue gives a tiny view into what the whole story will be without spoiling it. 🤍
MASTERLIST: main m.list
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𝙎𝙪𝙧𝙫𝙞𝙫𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝘾𝙖𝙢𝙥 𝙈𝙞𝙘𝙝𝙞𝙜𝙖𝙣; 𝙋𝙧𝙤𝙡𝙤𝙜𝙪𝙚 - 1k+ words
Camp Michigan; my home away from home each summer since the ripe age of 8 years old. Camp Michigan had been where I spent summers, from being a camper, to now, at 16, attending camp and being a camp counselor with others my age who have been attending ever since we were young - and those new. Being at camp had either been the greatest experience of the one month you’d spend out of your two month break. Or the greatest challenge. Each year, a new decision is made. New memories are formed, and even new connections.
Camp michigan consisted of traditions, our annual yearly sleepover in dining hall, the annual late night swim, dodgeball torty - which always included someone getting injured from how competitive some people would be - the annual bonfire to kick-off the beginning, and my favorite, the treehouse, not so much a tradition, but something I created when I was younger. Only in a place where me and a few other members knew of. It was special, and I would always find myself there whenever I needed a break or a good sleep.
Each year it was one or the other, no inbetween, most of the years I've spent attending camp ever since the age of 8 years old, I found myself leaving with memories to last a life time, having spent my summers making them the greatest experiences of my entire life. That was, until the summer i turned 16, one whole year ago from right now; id been 15, getting on the bus for summer camp, my birthday slowly approaching, which had always been spent at camp, the staff would even get the other campers to help with baking a cake; even though each time it would end up in someone’s face, or awfully decorated, it still meant everything to me. We’d even have a huge party to celebrate; as if most of the summer hadn’t already consisted of fun activities, it was another added to the long list.
That was, until the summer I turned 16.
On my 16th birthday, August 14th, nothing. I mean nothing, no cake, no party, no anything. It was like any other day at camp. Except most of my day had been spent waiting around in my cabin for someone to come tell me it was all some joke, or that a surprise party was being held and they wanted to keep everything a secret. The most I'd gotten was a couple of ‘happy birthdays’ from my close friends, and even some random kids who’d I’d been with for years.
It was my 16th birthday - my sweet 16 at that. And I spent it cooped up in a cabin for most of the day, the night ending with some stupid activity no other than Jack Hughes and his weird counselor group had planned. Which had pissed me off more than anticipated. And I snapped at him. Like a full blown yelling match, he mocked me, and made me cry on my own birthday; we also got in trouble, well, I did. Almost got sent home, actually. From the moment he stepped foot to camp, he went by calling you a series of names you’d rather not elaborate on. He was only older than you by a few months, yet he acted like he had been ancient.
Jack Hughes first summer at camp michigan, was last summer. Yet he’d made friends with almost everyone, except for me and my counselor group. It was an unspoken rivalry that went back - these was always the girls group, and the guys group. Always having a leader; being me for my girls, and Jack for his boys. He’d claimed that title almost immediately, somehow robbing my good friend miles of his seniority, which was supposed to mean he was leader. But no, ‘hot shot Hughes’ flew in, having everything handed to the son of a bitch. I’ve never hated anyone more; rivalry was so on.
He was almost insufferable, I’d always assume his overconfident cocky-act was from his popular hockey captain status which he said he held at school. I couldn’t have cared less, about him or his hockey status. He’d go around acting like he owned the place when he hadn’t even been there a week. The staff loved him, but you were pretty sure that was only because of his ‘charm’, or his flirty attitude, at first, most of your cabin crew had also been head over heels for the new hot boy, but you quickly shut them down with any idea of anything happening between any of cabin A with Cabin B. Rules were rules and a rivalry was a rivalry.
I never did know if he knew it had been your birthday that day, if he planned what he had just because he wanted to make your life a living hell, or if he just genuinely did not know. I wasn’t  sure if you’d ever get that answer, and over time I cared less. I’d been too focused on the summer ahead of you and that only. Your 17th would be spent like any other this year. I made sure to plan in advance, for my own sake anyway. This was going to be one of my last years at the camp, I’d be graduating the school year to come, and be moving off to whatever was planned for myself next, so some stupid boys weren’t about to ruin that for me. No matter how many names, or flirtatious things Jack would shoot at me, i had no intent of falling for his fuck boy acts.
For that matter, my good friend, and cabin member, Lacey, had been secretly seeing one of the guys from B cabin, this past summer. Joey. It was well known between the girls cabin, although the boys not so much. A few other girls had spent time with some of the boys, but none went any further in the way Lacey had it out with Joey. A part of me only dreamed of the cliche rivalry love story, yet with the current circumstances, I’d been almost positive that was never, ever going to happen.
Seriously. Imagine, Jack Hughes, and me?
Pffft.
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xeas · 2 days
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Can you please do a Norton and fool's gold with a reader where the reader has cinnamoroll personality (cinnamoroll is from sanrio)
MIND OVER MATTER IS MAGIC!
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🍍 IN WHICH: drabbles (seperately) of Norton Campbell and Fool's Gold with a reader who is like cinnamoroll from sanrio (basically, shy yet sweet who will also help out their friends whenever they can)
🥥 NOTE FROM XEA!: thank you so much for your request! i love writing for norton but im wary my fools gold may ooc...haha...
🫧CONTENT WARNINGS: pre-established relationship, Norton may appear overprotective, mc may appear to be 'pure and innocent' in a fashion that may be perceived as corny to some readers. reader is referred to as "doll" in Norton's section, "babyface" in Fools Gold's. Seer is mentioned and Grave keeper is implied in Fools Gold section. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!!
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NORTON CAMPBELL; The Prospector
NORTON swears up and down he's done nothing worthy of him deserving you.
The way your thumb grazes his knuckles in a comforting manner--whether to soothe your own nerves or his is unsure-- but the expression of innocence coated on your face both makes his heart sink to his stomach and gives him butterflies.
You have the eyes of someone who has gazed at few possible traumatic scenarios and the skin of one who not been lashed by the harsh truths of the world. He squishes down his feeling of envy when he feels he's going too far down the rabbit hole of his thoughts.
But now, as he bandages up your wound from the cold Night Watch, he can't help but realize how that weighs you down. It wasn't supposed to be you with the gash in your thigh it was supposed to be the teammate you wasted no time saving. You took a hit for them, and for what? So they could have a futile 5 seconds to run as fast as they could only for the harsh winter wind to yank them back to the hunter? You we're such a fool, having so much faith in these people.
But that's what led you two to become such a power couple. You gave him a chance.
"Norton-"
"Hush up, doll." And you do just that.
He looks angry and you feel nervous because of it.
"I'm sorry for getting injured." You mumble quietly. You don't expect a 'Its fine' or a 'Its not your fault' because this was a rookie mistake and you by no means are a rookie.
He remains silent, finishing up dressing your wound. His gloved hands go to hold your thighs as you sit in some corner of burned down building in the Arms Factory.
"Don't do that again." He states. Its not up for debate and you silently nod, moving to give his forehead a kiss as you steady yourself to get up and work on getting out of here.
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NORTON CAMPBELL; Fools Gold (Hunter Identity)
"Hm, shame. Really."
Fools Gold let out a teasing laugh as he shoved you into a chair. He leaned on the wall behind it as you glared up at him. Fools gold clicked his tongue (does he even have one??) and fake pouted, most likely mocking you.
"D'aw, don't look at me like that, Babyface. You wouldn't be like this if you didn't sacrifice yourself for that silly little seer."
At least he was brutally honest.
Your muscles are screaming at you and you can feel them throbbing after you spent the last 2 minutes running and jumping and rolling to get away from him.
He traces your jawline with his pickaxe, you can feel your face heat up as Fools Gold lets out a wheezing chuckle. "All bark huh?"
You try to stutter out a response not until you see the ground beside you break. This was going to take a while.
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୨🐙୧ ‧ 𝙃𝘼𝙑𝙀 𝘼𝙉 𝘼𝙈𝘼𝙕𝙄𝙉𝙂 𝘿𝘼𝙔! ⋆ ˚。
🌺 𝙓𝙊𝙓𝙊,
XEA!
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euphorianz · 3 days
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Hi! Can you do a anthony bridgerton being obsessed with a reader who doesnt want anything to do with him and rejects him all the time?
Thank u!
(in read your colin one, he is not really my man but your writing is just marvelous! If you decide to do this im so excited to read it!! If you dont its ok, no pressure!)
❥Anthony Bridgerton as a obsessed partner
pairing_ Anthony x reader
Possible triggers_ yandere/dark content, forced affection, mentions of yelling, toxic relationships, Anthony being a total jerk, unwilling reader
a/n_ hiii, thanks so much for your interest! I hope this fic is good and is exactly what you wanted <3 like I said in my last post feedback is welcome and requests!
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-unlike his brother Colin, he is fully aware of what he’s doing and he doesn’t care. He has an “eye on the prize” mentality and has no intention of straying from his goal (you).In a way this is all a game to him, and he has no plans of losing.
-Anthony is controlling/ intense. He desires nothing more for you to be his, and only his. He is not afraid to fight when it comes to you, and will gladly knock a man out for even looking at you. Intimidation tactics are common. Expect to see Anthony randomly showing up at your home or anywhere else you might be. Wether you like him or not he wants everyone to believe the two of you are together. He’s the first one to come up to you at a ball and he makes sure he’s the only one. He doesn’t care if you say no. On top of being controlling he can also be jealous, so expect to be pressed with questions like, “who were you with?!” “What is his name?!” “Do you honestly think he can provide better than me?”
-he has no problem taking full advantage as his role as “viscount” when it comes to you (and your family). He’ll use his influence to gain your family’s favor and your hand. Although meeting through friendship is possible, your mostly likely to catch his eye at a ball than anything. Like his brother the marriage will be swift. Everyone in the ton will be invited to witness your union wether you like it or not. He knows that you don’t hold the same affection for him, so he hopes the tons presence will keep you in check.
-once the two of you are married he doesn’t tolerate any kind of outburst, especially near his family. He cares deeply about them, and the thought of you speaking ill of him or your relationship fills him with rage. So he’ll make a point to be by your side until he can fully trust you. Family participation is a must, especially when it comes to family games. He wants you by his side and happy, but if you can’t be he’s willing to force it.
-if you manage to tell your in-laws about Anthony’s extreme behavior or beg them to help you get out of the marriage, there’s little chance you’ll get the help that you want. Anthony will be quick to take hold of the situation and reassure them that there’s nothing wrong then punish you accordingly. Like his brother he doesn’t like to see you in pain, but he’s not afraid to inflict it.
-like his brother he wants a lot of kids and he expects you to feel the same. If you don’t he’ll just say, “you don’t actually feel that way my love. You’ll come around eventually.” Again family is important to him, so you will eventually have children wether you like it or not.
-Anthony at times can have a short temper, especially when you push him away. He’ll yell and scream demanding “why you don’t love him”. After his outburst and if your upset he’ll be quick to comfort you and apologize, “I’m sorry.. I never mean to upset you.” He can have his tender moments.
-like the rest of his family divorce is not an option and bringing it up will only lead to more problems for you. Same goes for attempting to leave him. He doesn’t know what to do with himself or you at that point, and his desperation will only lead to fueling his obsession with you.
-he’s your husband and you’re his wife. It doesn’t matter how much you fight him or deny his affection that fact will remain. “Wether you acknowledge it or not, your are only for my eyes to witness. So there’s no use in fighting what’s already been vowed.”
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