#EXHALE...WHEW

[hyaeth]

i need an individual headcanon thing for my babies but uh emily;

read more cus this turned into a long one 

fdgjdfkjs Her. so i’ve been writing her for 11 years now, since i was 14. so she’s very special to me. noting i do write her as very high chaos. with some alternate endings to the game. i also don’t use DH2 as a source of inspiration since i don’t care for the second game. honestly it’s my fault for pouring everything i had into her and then her turning out different LMAO so my adult emily is also different from DH2 emily, even design wise. 

sooo headcanons below for my dearest, again i don’t take anything from the second game into account, if there’s similarities then great minds think alike ig

emily has frequent contact with the outsider. and is considerably closer to him than what’s shown in the game. he stops her nightmares by transporting her into the void when she sleeps, she’s become very accustomed to the void, and views the outsider as a friend. although she would never say it, she’s still kind of a brat.

she becomes an heir to the void, of sorts. offered by the outsider. he is the void, the end and beginning of all things. his body is simply a vessel. and if he were to die, the void would consume everything. therein comes emily as the new vessel should she suffer the same fate as him. 

emily has the plague, but is asymptomatic. 

this was briefly mentioned in the game, but i kinda took it and ran with it. emily can talk to rats, they whisper to her, tell her the secrets within the walls. warning her of any decenters. she has a very special rat friend named Scruffy, he’s usually seen on her shoulder and she speaks to him frequently.

whether she is marked by the outsider is on a case by case basis. which verse i feel like writing. 

she’s extremely intuitive, this is of course something that was needed due to her circumstances, she’s very good at reading people, sometimes to the point that it seems supernatural, surreal. 

she bears a certain resentment towards her mother, not hatred, nothing so concrete. it’s betrayal, anger, knowing that she was powerless to do anything about it. she’s angry at the world and at everyone around her.

if we’re going full on high chaos, i always had this idea that she has corvo track down the guards that were supposed to be on duty when the assassination occurred, and has them killed. 

emily has makeshift gravesites for the Loyalists in the Hounds Pits Pub, she had corvo find the bodies to bury, but when he came to gather them, they were already eaten by rats. corvo brought other corpses wrapped in cloth, but emily knew. however she said nothing. 

she blames herself for callista’s death

#EXHALE...WHEW #thats it for now folks #my emily drexel lela kaldwin the first headcanons #headcanon tbt

[basilone]

follow-up to this gifset

#masters of the air #mota #motaedit #mastersoftheairedit #mota spoilers #masters of the air spoilers #gale cleven #basilcreations #galeedit #I saved last night's gif coloring so all of these are done with the exact same layers/settings #really loving that little smile in that last gif #also I feel like the collective fandom exhaled when he did cos whew what an ep

[cheolhub]

LAVENDER — CHOI SEUNGCHEOL ࿐

summary. you really don’t want seungcheol to go to work, so you give him a million reasons to stay at home with you.

wc. 3.7k+

warnings. whew… dom!cheol, teasing, very needy f!reader, morning sex, f. masturbation, unprotected sex, creampie, lots of dirty talk, pussy drunk cheol <3 rough but very passionate sex, size kink if you squint, heavy praise, heavy use of pet names [pretty/sweet girl, baby, love] (im not sorry) — MINORS DNI 18+

note. happy birthday to cheolhub (not me, my account. she turns 1 today ^^) we will celebrate with a self indulgent fic. i was blinded by need for him one morning a while back and then BOOM, this was born. so here u guys go, i hope u enjoy. p.s. the title has nothing to do with the fic, stream lavender by dreamer boy :p

early mornings are the absolute worst for seungcheol. the tedious morning routine, watching the sun peek from the bleak, dark sky, and worst of all, parting from you. he hates leaving you before you can even form a coherent thought, body wracked with last night's sleep. he hates leaving you ‘cus you look so adorable while you’re drooling over your pillows, whining at him to get back in bed.

but this morning was different. normally, you’d be sound asleep by the time he had to leave, but you had been tossing and turning all night so by the time seungcheol’s alarm had gone off, you were well awake. you frown at him as he takes a deep sigh, forearm coming to rest on his forehead once he snoozes the alarm. 

you scoot closer to him, snuggling into his side and wrapping an arm around his naked torso. he hums at your touch, “g’morning, baby,” his raspy voice sends a shiver up your spine.

“nothin’ good about this morning,” you mumble passively, pressing your face further into his side. 

cheol raises an eyebrow. you sound too awake this morning. “did you sleep at all?” he pressed, noticing the lack of tiredness in your voice. the arm on his forehead comes down to wrap around your frame. he takes your vow of silence as a no and he whines cutely at you, “angel, why didn’t you wake me?”

“‘cus you had to wake up early, cheollie,” you pout. “and i didn’t wanna bug you.” 

“you could do no such thing,” he defends, his hand rubbing your hip. “why couldn’t you sleep?” 

you shrug, shyly. you could tell him about how you had imagined him fucking you all day yesterday and how you needed him horribly while he was at work, but your embarrassment keeps you from admitting your desperation. 

but, cheol is smart. maybe a bit too smart. especially when it comes to you. he can read you like an open book, knows you like the back of his hand. 

“aw, was my pretty baby horny?” he coos feeling the way you wordlessly nod your head into his side. “yeah?”

“yeah… missed you all day yesterday,” you murmur, pressing chaste kisses to his naked, warm skin. “ needed you so bad, but you seemed tired when you got home… ‘n, like i said, i didn’t wanna bug you, so,”

seungcheol shakes his head disapprovingly as he maneuvers his body to hover over yours. “what did i just say? you could never bug me, Y/N.” he reprimands and you pout once more. “tell me what you need, baby, hmm?” his voice drops an octave and you feel yourself melt to putty. “what does my pretty baby need?”

the sheer dominance that emits from his body has your insides churning in anticipation. “need you…” you can barely breathe out. 

he chuckles, “yeah? ‘m right here, love.” the lilt to his voice signals he’s teasing and you let out a soft whine. “did you need anything else?”

“need you in me,” you exhale.

“that so?” he questions, raising his eyebrow, feigning awareness, “i dunno baby, doesn’t seem like you actually need me…”

you squirm under him, your panties soaking as his patronizing tone arouses you to no end. “please, i do,” you whimper. “i need you so bad, cheol, please.”

his breath hitches and his previous teasing manner suddenly vanishes. before he can say anything, though, his second alarm rings indicating he has to get ready. forreal this time. 

you’re saddened at the thought of him leaving… it would be totally selfish of you to provoke him, right? especially so early in the morning while he should be getting ready for work… 

but he did say that you could never bug him…

“cheollie,” you mumble. “can’t you call in for the morning? just go in a lil late?” you ask, hopeful. 

the sigh that he lets slip his lips is one you know all too well. it’s a heavy sigh that comes right before he’s about to tell you something disappointing. something you don’t want to hear. “baby…”

you deflate before he says anything else, huffing out, “fine.” he smiles at the pout that etches into your lips but it’s quickly wiped off his face when you sulk out your next words, “guess i’m just gonna have to fuck myself all day while you’re gone.” 

“huh…is that so, baby?” his soft tone is gone, replaced with one that makes you immediately submit to him. he leans into you, a sinister smile creeping back onto his face as thoughts roam through his mind. “yeah? gonna shove those pretty little fingers in your cunt and pretend it’s me making you feel good?”

you exhale sharply, gulping when you feel your throat dry up. “y-yeah.” your stutter doesn’t go unnoticed by your boyfriend, yet he plays along with your cute little game. 

“guess that means i don’t have to make you cum this morning then, huh?” 

you gasp, snapping your head back to look at him, eyes filled with regret. “what?! wait, no, no, i-i want–”

he cuts off your stuttering while wearing a faux pout, “what happened, baby? i thought you wanted to fuck yourself? i think you should go for it, you don’t need me.”

“no, cheol, i do– i’m sorry, i do need you.” you tell him feebly, a whine following your words. 

he coos, “aw, really? then why don’t you show me, sweet girl.” 

“but you’re gonna be late–”

“don’t worry about that, baby, just go ahead and touch yourself for me.”

you whimper, nodding your head. you hook your fingers into the elastic bands of your sleep shorts and wet panties, lifting your hips up to pull the thin pieces of fabric off your body. your heated core is now exposed to the cool air, chilling your feverish body the second it fans over your cunt. 

seungcheol can see the way your pussy glistens with the soft light peeking in through the window. blood rushes straight to his cock and it throbs almost painfully under his loose shorts. he doesn’t feel like going all the way to work like this, nor does he want to be there with the thought of you touching yourself without him. 

your hand trails down to your pussy, two of your fingers finding your clit. your eyes flutter close, shifting and getting comfortable on the bed before moving faster. 

your eyes don’t need to be open to see him staring intently at you. you can feel his gaze burning holes into your skin and knowing he’s sitting on his knees above you…just watching makes you squirm a bit. adrenaline continues to pump through your veins, exciting you further. 

your breath hitches and a soft, “fuck,” tumbles out of your mouth. your fingers pick up their pace, rubbing into the swollen bud with pure desire.

your lips tug up a bit when you hear your boyfriend’s shuddered exhale. you decide that— maybe— it’s your chance to put on a little show for him. 

your free hand comes up to fondle your tits, squeezing the fat with vigor. you arch into both of your hands helplessly. your eyes screw together and your jaw goes slack as moans come out of your open mouth. 

and, fuck, you bet you look so lewd to him. playing with your tits through your thin shirt and panting like a bitch in heat, all the while you're desperately grinding your hips for more.

and then you give him something he can’t deny. something he can’t ignore even if he wanted to.

“mmm, fuck,” you moan, fingers dipping down into your pulsing core.  “fuck, ‘m so wet, cheol.” 

when he doesn’t reply, your eyes crack open and shoot to stare at him. with your eyebrows knit together, you moan again, curling the fingers trapped between your warm, velvet walls. you speak as if he’s not inches away from you, as if you’re not staring directly at him while you fuck yourself with your fingers. “wish you’d just come ‘n fuck me, cheollie. wish my fingers were your cock so bad.” 

the wet sounds of your fingers curling and scissoring inside of you fill the room and it’s driving him absolutely insane. heat begins to radiate off his body and he realizes he can’t take this much longer–

“need your fat cock to fill me up so bad–” you pant, eyes rolling to the back of your head, the sight of him disappearing and your vision fades to black. “need you to split me open, make me take it all.”

and you’re not that close– even though your fingers feel fucking amazing– but stretching the truth never hurt anyone, so you whine out, “m close.”

he finally cracks..

his hand spans over your tummy and his thumb finds your clit, circling the puffy bud faster than you could imagine, “so soon, baby?” he asks with a low voice, words heavy and dripping with sheer dominance. “you’re that horny? gonna cum after playing with your pretty pussy for five minutes?”

you weren’t close before, but the stimulation to your clit along with the fingers in your messy cunt and your hand on your breast have you tensing up. your tummy tightens and your brain goes a bit haywire, his vulgar words not helping the situation in the slightest.

“needy girl… so fuckin’ dirty.” he murmurs. “talkin’ about getting split open on my cock. need me to fuck you back to sleep, don’t you?” 

you nod eagerly as his fingers work you faster, swiftly rubbing into you. he’s grinning at the way your movements are inconsistent, how you’re unable to keep your speed from faltering– your hand is probably cramping up inside of you. 

his free hand catches your wrist, pulling your fingers out causing a mewl to erupt in the back of your throat, but before you have a chance to complain, his longer, thicker fingers are replacing yours. he’s mocking your actions, but he’s making it feel so much better as he stretches you further and hitting all your spots better than you were. 

he hums, “you sure you can even take it? you’re squeezin’ my fingers so tight—”

your eyes snap open again and you protest through a moan, essentially cutting him off, “i-i can! you know i can!”

a deep, dark chuckle reverberates through your room as he nods, “you’re right, huh? you always take me so well. my good girl.” 

you really are going to cum now and seungcheol can feel it. you clamp around his fingers and your own curl around his wrist in attempts to ground yourself before your impending orgasm washes over you. 

“is this really how you wanna cum before i’m off to work, baby?” another faux pout appears on his face. “you don’t wanna cum on my cock? don’t want me to cum with you?”

you cry, shaking your head incessantly, preparing to have pure bliss cruelly ripped away from you. “cock, want– fuck, cheol– i-i want your cock.”

his pout morphs into yet another devious smirk as he pulls both of his hands off of you, abandoning you to cry and mewl in disappointment. the orgasm bubbling up in the pit of your tummy quickly flees, dissolving into nothing and leaving you with a dull ache in your needy core. 

seungcheol quickly strips his boxers off, his hard cock slapping against his abdomen. he doesn’t need to with how wet you are, but he still lets a trail of spit coat his angry, red tip. 

you’re still heaving, recovering from your loss of orgasm and seungcheol is very aware. he can see that you're heavily anticipating the feeling of his dick finally pressing into you, doing your best to be patient and he has to fight off the urge to tease you for being so desperate. 

but, in all honesty, he’s doing no better than you. his hands eagerly find the backs of your thighs, spreading you open and then pushing them back till your knees knock against your chest. you gasp when you realize the position he’s put you in– 

he’s really going to give it to you. 

he slaps the heavy tip of his cock against your clit a few times causing your hips to jolt after every strike. he laughs quietly to himself, savoring the sight of you like this even though he knows he’ll have you like this again tonight and tomorrow and for the years to come. he’ll still burn the image of you before him into his brain every single time. you’re just too beautiful not to.

he runs his head through your drenched slit and you can’t resist the impatient groan that comes out of your mouth. “god, cheol, don’t tease. please.”

“you’re so cute when you’re worked up, though.”

“i’m a lot cuter with your dick inside of me,” you mumble, clenching around nothing as another flash of arousal courses through your body. “taking all of you.”

he can’t argue with that. 

he finally trails down to your drooling hole, slowly and steadily pushing into you. daunting inch by inch. he lodges his bottom lip in between his teeth, biting back an embarrassing moan over how incredibly tight you are. 

he’s only a quarter of the way in and you’re almost in tears. the pain from the stretch is one you’ll never get used to, but you breathe through it. he guides you through it. 

“good job, baby, just breathe. it’s gonna feel good, just relax.” he gets out with a strained voice as you let out an incoherent string of words.

you give him a broken nod and moan, doing your best to control your labored breathing and physically unclench.

he decides to just go halfway for the time being, gently thrusting in and out of your vice-like pussy till the pain subsides– till you’re able to take it all. 

and it’s not long before said pain turns into fervor and immense pleasure. 

“ch-cheol– oh, my god.” your words are something between a whine and mewl. “so big, oh my… fuck. you’re so big…”

he groans, cock twitching at the praise. he doesn’t mean to, but he fucks another inch (or two) into you, driving himself deeper into you. when you gasp at the intrusion, he swears he won’t be able to last long. 

he moans out his words, breathy and a bit stuttered. “d-don’t say that… swear to god, you’re gonna drive me fuckin’ crazy.”

you give him an airy laugh– though it quickly dies and turns into a whimper– and say, “you can give it to me.” 

a growl bubbles in his chest at the implication of your words. before he moves, he asks, “you sure?” and when you give him a soft yes, he doesn’t hold back, the switch– the sanity switch– in his mind and body flipping off.

he grabs the back of your thighs for support before pushing the rest of himself inside of you in one go. his hips meet yours and it has your eyes rolling back, an array of mewls and moans bouncing off the walls of your room mixing with his loud groans. 

he holds himself there for a second, but when you clamp around him tighter than before, he pulls his hips back and slams back into you. he repeats his actions, almost completely pulling out and pushing back in over and over till he gains a steady, consistent pace. 

he’s in deep, the tip of his cock scraping against your sweet spot. he hits it persistently while spewing praises left and right. 

“such a good girl. fuck, you’re so good, you know that?” he rambles, stars in his eyes as he watches your face contort and your body twitch at the sweet words. “feel so fuckin’ good, shit–”

you wish you could reply. give him back some praise about how his cock is fucking incredible, how he’s perfect, how he’s the most beautiful man ever, but the words escape you, as does your mind. instead, you tighten around him, velvety walls molding to the shape of him.

a guttural groan leaves him and he moves faster, forcing himself in and out, “not gonna last if you keep doing that.”

you do it again, clenching around him as he’s keeping up his impressive speed. “f-fill me up.”

“i fucking will,” he growls as if that were his plan all along. “but you’re gonna cum for me first.”

he discreetly snakes his hand between the two of you, hand splaying over your stomach as it did earlier except, this time, he’s pushing down and feeling himself inside of you. he groans at the sensation as his thumb catches your clit. 

“cheol!” you gasp, shockwaves running through your body at the contact. 

“come on, baby,” he coaxes in his sultry, breathy voice. “you can do it, can’t you? you can cum for me?”

you suck in a sharp breath through your teeth, body becoming overstimulated at the onslaught of pleasure. your tummy tightens, just like before, and you feel the knot reforming with his deep strokes filling you to the brim and skillfully hitting your spot every time. 

“y-yeah– fuck, yes,” you pant, eyes screwing shut and body arching. you squeeze him tight– so tight he’s scared you might not let him leave. every nerve ending in your body is tingling, electrified– you may have the best orgasm of your life at six in the fucking morning. “cheol– cheol! cheol, i–” you sob, each version of his name getting louder and more incomprehensible than the last. 

looking at you, he thinks he’s in heaven. or maybe he’s in hell because his cock is twitching uncontrollably and he’s just barely hanging on. a pretty whine– one that he finds a bit embarrassing– escapes him before his wavered voice says, “fuck, i got you, baby. cum for me. cum all over my cock like the pretty girl you are.”

your body jerks and vision goes white at his command. the knot in your belly unravels rather quickly and you persuasively drench his length in your syrupy arousal. a silent scream leaves your mouth and you’re squirming under him as he continues to fuck you through your orgasm before your entire body goes lax.

you whine out little, mindless babbles, begging him to cum while he picks up his pace, fucking into your near lifeless body with so much vigor. 

“gonna let me fill this pretty pussy, huh?” he grits through his teeth, pulling his hand from your tummy in favor of putting it on the back of your thigh again. he pins your legs to your chest with a sense of urgency, nearly folding you in half. “tell me how bad you wanna get fucked full of my cum, baby.”

you shudder at the thought of him pumping you full. you nod dumbly, “p-please, cheol. wanna feel it inside of me so bad.”

“yeah?”

“fuck yes,”

he groans, his nails digging into your flesh. if he wasn’t close before, he’s going to fucking explode now. 

his hips stutter, thrusts growing sloppy before he stills with his tip nestled at your hilt. his abs contract and he twitches and pulses in between your walls. a soft cry of your name falls from his plush lips right as he shoots ribbons of warm cum deep into your cunt.  

the warmth of his cum causes a wanton moan to escape you. there’s so much of it that it’s hard to keep it inside of you. so much that it ends up spilling and dribbling out of your hole as he slowly pulls out. 

he watches in awe, dick twitching in excitement at the sight. he shakily exhales, holding himself back from shoving it into you again. 

you’re so sore. coming down from your euphoric high, you let your legs down, stretching them out due to the strenuous position, and try to regulate your breathing.

 a few minutes pass and you finally feel like your heart rate is back to normal. you still feel his load slipping out of you, so your hand comes down to your messy pussy, swiping up some of his seed and bringing your fingers to your lips. 

seungcheol groans at the moan you let out at the taste of your mixed cum. “you’re such a tease.” he mutters, hands soothing over your body. 

you pull your fingers out of your mouth and smile lazily at him. “we’re meant to be then.”

he cracks a wide grin, “we are, huh?”

“very.” you nod.

he leans down, whispering a soft i love you and pecking your lips. right before you can wrap your arms around him and tangle up with him again, he moves away. 

you groan in annoyance, “you’re not still going to work are you? after that?!”

“baby,” he laughs. “i’m already gonna be late. i have to clean you up and then get ready.”

“noooo, stay with me.” you whine making grab hands at him. “we could have so much more fun here. for example, i could suck you off.” you say in joking matter though you have never been more serious in your entire life. “orrrr, we can do some of the things you’ve always wanted to try.” you whisper, a taunting smile on your face. 

he gasps, face flushing, “baby, don’t play.” he shakes his head, pushing his dirty thoughts to the back of his head. “while the offer sounds tempting–”

“just today, cheol,” you plead, a pout on your face. “for me? please? just don’t wanna be away from you.”

he wishes that you weren’t so persuasive, but, unfortunately for him, you are. he can’t resist the pouts or the pleading eyes or how cute you are when you’re clingy. an exasperated sigh slips his lips. he’s going to have to play catch-up tomorrow, but the idea of spending the day with you instead makes it seem worth it.

“fine, i’ll give them a call. tell them i’m sick or something.” he says, a smile playing onto his lips. “just for you. just for today.”

“yay!” you cheer, sitting up on your messy bed sheets. “round 2 in the shower? then maybe we can work through your bucket list.”

“you are literally insatiable.” he scoffs as if he isn’t pulling your arms to get you out of the bed. 

“seems like you’re way ahead of me.”

© cheolhub — all rights reserved, please refrain from copying, reposting, modifying or translating my work on any platform.

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#seungcheol smut #scoups smut #seventeen smut #svt smut

[chrollohearttags]

i need some mirror sex with rapper eren so badddd 😩 i can hear him now telling me how pretty i look while i take daddy’s dick 🤰🏾🤰🏾

nah see, I had to run this backkkk! 🥴🥴 so glad I took a spin back through my ask box bc im finding ALL the gems…whew, why did I have to wake up with this man on my brain so heavilyyyy? Like I cannot shut the fuck up about him today!

cw: influencer reader, mirror sex, throat fucking, backshots, choking, dumbification, praise kink, light slapping, consensual filming, daddy kink, dom eren bc he makes my kitty growl like a tiger :(

“Just a little more, baby. You can take that shit…there you go, fuuuck.”

the encouraging words leaving the mouth of your man as only gagging and gurgling noises emitted from your own. A hand placed subtlety atop your head as he guided it along the length of his shaft. Your pretty, plump lips suctioned around his cock and stained with the remnants of precum from his swollen tip. Because currently, you were sitting obediently on all fours, positioned in front of a floor length mirror with your ass in the air and the fingers of one of the world’s most famous musicians cradling your head whilst his balls slapped vehemently at your chin. Saliva dripping down your exposed chest and the marble tile in his bedroom. All the while, a beaming light from the back of his phone hovered above you as the camera recorded all the lewd acts taking place between you two. It was sort of a keepsake of sorts, a way to keep your minds on one another when you had to part and go on with your busy lives until you were able to hook up once more. Although, it made it much harder to want to leave! So on nights like tonight, you made it well worth his time. “Yeah, eat that dick up, baby. Allll the way to the back of your throat. That’s my good girl..” giving you copious amounts of praise for doing so. Groaning in a high pitched wail as you swallowed him inch by inch. Even gently stroking the side of your face and staring at you as if you were his greatest prize. Leaving you to pant and thank him for his load with a kiss to his tip. Running a thumb along the perimeter of your lips before pushing them in and cooing to you.

“Look up at the camera, princess…looking so fucking sexy with my nut on that face.”

but alas, it wouldn’t be enough to sate his desire for you. What he needed was a little something more to quell those urges he had been experiencing all week. The ones he garnered as he watched you twerk on him in the middle of the club to one of his new songs. The ones that creeped up when you were modeling some new bikini for Instagram and the camera caught at just the right angle to see that plump ass moving with each step. He wanted you in ways he couldn’t even imagine..so now, he had quite the idea to make sure that not only did you two savor this moment but couldn’t forget it either. Without so much as a second word, still holding that phone with the flash beaming against the glass, he’d usher you onto all fours; of course with an encouraging slap to your backside. Making you stretch your arms and ass out, giving him the perfect view.

“ ‘Pussy so damn fat…fucking love it. Play with it for me, baby. Rub on that shit, spread it open..”

instructing you to rub on that clit with a deep groveling voice as he exhaled a cloud of smoke from the nearby ignited blunt. He’d raise his hand that had been idly rubbing on those round cheeks to give you some heavy slaps. His AP watch and chain both glistening underneath the fractals of light in the mirror. But they weren’t about to be the only thing shining…

“..now bring that ass back on me. Put it in yourself..just like that.”

without having to tell you twice, you’d grasp for his shaft..pressing it to your entrance before moving back the rest of the way until you felt it push through your tightness. You’d release a loud whimper, tossing your head back when he’d clutch your throat and start thrusting. Feeding you long strokes that had you trembling the second he started. “Ooh, shit..baby.” Screaming out as you scrape gently at the floor beneath you. Eyes rolled back and biting at your lip, you’d arch your back and let your ass subtly ripple off of his pelvis. Eren kept a firm grip on your waist, only moving just the slightest inch and letting you swallow him with each bounce. Creaming on him as you gradually gained your rhythm. Biting down to stifle your cries but he’d just clamp your throat..tugging your head back for a very sloppy and heated kiss. “…take that shit, baby. Keep fucking me just like that.” Blurting out with the slightest vibration in his voice because he had begun to feel just how tight you were but what was perhaps his greatest weakness was how that sweet voice uttered his name; moaning do submissively and asking how good you felt while fluttering those big eyelashes. He couldn’t resist you or the urge to feed into it.

“You’re doing so good, baby…so pretty when you nut on daddy’s dick. I love it.”

making you face the mirror to catch a faint glimpse of his own gorgeous view. Your face stuck in utter bliss and ecstasy with your mouth slightly agape and drool seeping from between your lips. It was such a sexy sight to behold. Giving you a heavy handed slap to the ass, Eren pulled you back..this time saddling his thumb into your other hole, rubbing around it to really give you pleasure.

“Now keep going.. and lemme see that face while I’m in it too. You look so fucking beautiful letting me stretch this pussy..”

#cherry’s asks 🍒 #cherry’s drabbles 🍒 #aot x black reader #black fem reader #eren x black fem!reader #musician x influencer au #musician eren #black reader smut #y’all sick of me yet or no? #eren x black fem reader #eren x reader #eren yeager #eren smut #eren jaeger fic #shingeki no kyoujin eren #eren jaeger x black reader smut #eren jeager imagines #eren jaeger headcanons #eren au #aot au #snk eren #eren aot #eren jaeger x y/n #black reader #attack on titan eren #eren x fem!reader #eren x reader smut #eren jeager x reader #queued posts #sorry for spam posting

[citrustan]

for what it's worth [2/4] (jjk)

pairing: jeon jungkook x reader

genre: angst, fluff (this comes in a bit later), light smut, college student!reader x crush!jungkook

summary: you make an awful revelation about your crush of two years.

word count: 2.3k

warnings: kinda angsty because yaknow unrequited love and stuff like whew i could never

note: im SORRY it took me a year to release this :(

1 - 2 - 3 - 4

Every millisecond of the drive back to campus was torturous. At times, you felt like your throat was closing up. You had to sit on your hand to stop it from cracking a window open.

You think you might’ve experienced your first ever anxiety attack.

All Jungkook’s genuine attempts at holding a conversation with you were shot down mercilessly.

It was almost as if all the admiration you had for him turned into pure hatred for a moment.

Terrified that you would break down in front of the man whom you supposedly creep out, you kept your mouth shut the entire time.

You’re thankful for the timing of the universe. Had you proceeded to confess your feelings to him, you’d have humiliated yourself to death. You’d have had to dig yourself a hole and bury your head in it for a really long time. Or hibernate in the blast chiller like a stupid little snail.

Even if you had a minuscule percentage of a chance with Jungkook, Jia has destroyed it all by telling him about ‘your’ crush.

Although he didn’t seem to have recognised you as the ‘creep’, you can’t help but wonder. What if he knew about you? Maybe he didn’t recognise you without makeup? Maybe he panicked when he realised it was you.

What do you know about Jia really?

After unsuccessfully starting a conversation with you, Jungkook was staring a hole into his phone. He knows he has made you uncomfortable. But, which part of whatever he said did the trick?

He panicked. Jungkook wasn’t supposed to tell you (or anyone) about him and Jia, as per Jia’s desperate request. While he respected it, he wondered why. On pushing her for a legitimate answer, she finally told him about the ‘creep with a schoolgirl crush’ and how she was friends with said ‘creep’ and didn’t want to be in her bad books.

Albeit strange, Jungkook assumed it was dangerous for Jia to be publicly known as his girlfriend. He thought that maybe it’d have put a target on her back.

He didn’t mean to blurt it all out in front of you. It was like his mouth had a mind of its own. He couldn’t stop himself from spilling the beans. And then he made it worse by indirectly calling you a creep. He did take it back, but it must’ve been uncomfortable for you regardless.

And maybe that’s why you won’t respond to his attempts to chat.

He really didn’t want to burden you but he has to let you know--- “You know, it’s a relief to finally tell someone about Jia.”

“Hm?” You abruptly turned your head sideways to face him.

“Jia. It feels good to be able to talk to someone about the girl I’m dating. We never really planned on telling anyone actually.”

‘Yeah, while you’re at that, stick a knife in my chest, why don’t you?’

“I bet it does.” You exhale with a forced smile.

Jungkook turns his body towards you, “_____.” He called out. You instinctively make eye contact with him. “Would it be too much to ask if we could keep this a secret from Jia?”

Before you could process exactly what he asked of you, you involuntarily held your breath at the thought of sharing a secret with him. Just the two of you.

And Jia.

You frown.

The thought of Jia breaks you out of your reverie. You have got to pull yourself together.

Perhaps Jungkook wasn’t too far off with the ‘creep’ thing.   

“Whatever you want.” You immediately look away. Honestly, he probably could’ve gotten you to agree to shave your head if he wanted to.

“Really? It isn’t…?” Jungkook trailed off. “It’s okay. It’ll be as if we never met.” You assure him.

Just how far is your stupid university? It feels like forever since you got into the car with him.

“Except we have met before.” He interjects. You don’t know if he’s referring to your very first meeting at the party or the other times you’ve ‘met’ in the classes you share. Either way, Jia knows about it all.

“We sure have. But she doesn’t have to know that. If that’s what you want.” You add, “I don’t want to cause any problems for you. Just tell me what to do and I won’t question it.” With that you aim your eyes straight ahead, focusing them on the back of the passenger seat.

So much for staying grounded. You have GOT to chill. You’re worried you’ll blow your cover.

Jungkook unexpectedly laughs, “Okay. I don’t want to complicate it too much.”

“Jia doesn’t want people to know about us. And I don’t want to lose her trust. So… maybe---”

Your mouth automatically forms a pout. You really don’t want to witness his devotion to her.

“You know what, I’ll handle it. I’ll talk to her and admit I slipped up...” Jungkook waits for your reaction, but you give him nothing.

Now, you begin to feel badly about the way you’ve been acting towards him. He has done nothing to deserve your hot and cold attitude.

Jungkook has been kind to you. He complimented you, confided in you, gave you his jacket, and offered you a ride. The least you can do is not make stuff so difficult for him.

You remind yourself that your issue is with Jia and not Jungkook.

“If you’re that worried, we don’t have to mention this to her.” You meekly add.

“I was thinking maybe I should just tell her. Wouldn’t that be easier for you too?” Hah! You’d think.

You’re about to counter when the driver interrupts, “Non-faculty vehicles aren’t allowed to go any further than this. Is it okay if I dop you kids off here?”

Neither of you had noticed that you’d reached a few minutes ago. Your driver was kind enough to allow you to resolve your dilemma.

Your dorm was a ten-minute walk from the gate. “This is good.” You kindly smile at him.

The driver eyes you from the rear-view mirror, “This is none of my business but from experience, I can tell you that nothing good ever comes out of secrets and lies. No matter how big or small, shit gets messy.”

You and Jungkook share a look and thank your driver.

“I’ll tell her tomorrow.” He nods once, mostly to himself.

The two of you exit the vehicle together.

Something still bothered you. You swore you had a really great time with Jungkook at the freshmen mixer where you were first introduced to each other. Does he not remember you from then at all?

It’d be embarrassing if he didn’t.

What kills you the most is how you stupidly built your crush up in your head. It was just supposed to be just a fun thing for yourself, but honestly, you’re having trouble standing right now.

“Can I walk you to your room?” Jungkook interrupts your chain of thoughts.

Originally, you planned to run away from him as soon as you reached campus, but curiosity pushes your nervousness away. So, you agree to walk with him.

The first few minutes of your walk are spent in silence. It wasn’t pleasant, it was forced and awkward. Even small talk couldn’t have helped it.

Most of your life was planned. You liked having control over the situations you put yourself in. You like knowing what was going to happen the next day. You liked to organise everything. This tension and feelings of uncertainty threw you way off.

You could not bear not knowing. Still, you manage to keep your cool and fake nonchalance. This is only as big as you make it out to be.

At least now you know you wouldn’t need to buy an extra juice box tomorrow.

You made sure to reassure Jungkook that he wouldn’t get into trouble and that he wouldn’t have to worry about you talking to people about it. But, you could feel the discomfort he basically emitted from his speech to his body language.

Unconvinced that he heard you out, you tell him again. “Just so you know, you don’t have to butter me up or anything. If Jia doesn’t want your news out, so be it. I won’t tell a soul.” Because, that’d be super embarrassing for me as well. But you left that out.

Jungkook visible relaxed, with slouched shoulders and an exhale of relief, he turns to you. “Oh, thank goodness. I was hoping to keep this between us. I know it’s a pussy move, I just don’t want-“

“I already told you, it’s OK.” You abruptly cut him off, impatient because you couldn’t hear him get started on liking and respecting Jia, and disappointing Jia, and protecting Jia, or whatever was going on with the pair.

You were a little hurt when he reacted the way he did. Somewhere, you wanted him to admit he was walking you home because he cared about you or found you inciting enough to spend time with.

Why would he care? You’re actually nobody to him. You’re Jia’s _____.

(And he’s Jia’s Jungkook lol)

You continue, “I genuinely do not care.” A lie.

Jungkook stares at you with big stupid eyes. You almost feel bad for him. You know you’re confusing the fuck out of him with your hot and cold behaviour.

“You know what? I forgot I had to see the course counsellor. That’s like, in the other direction.”

Your sad excuse for an escape was welcomed by Jungkook.

“Oh! My dorm’s the opposite to that… building.” He wanted to get away from you just as much as you him. Well, that doesn’t hurt at all.

:D :D :D

I mean, you were doing the same thing to him but your reason was totally different. So, that doesn’t count.

The two of you stopped in the middle of the cold path. “So, okay.” He started, “I’ll see you around?”

“Yeah! See you!” You faked enthusiasm.

After a two second lag, you both awkwardly shuffle around each other.

“Bye!” You abruptly brisk walk in the direction of your dormitory, the very direction you weren’t supposed to be heading to.

Jungkook stands dumbfounded with his hand midway in the air. In fact, he had no clue you were trying to avoid him. He really meant that his dorm was opposite to the counsellor’s office.

Still, he doesn’t think too much of it.

Jungkook checks his phone to see a few text messages from his girlfriend, asking him about his plans for the week.

He promptly cleared his evenings for Jia and continued walking away from the spot you both stood at.

Later that night, while he FaceTimed her, he kept going back to the moment you greeted him. For some reason, he couldn’t stop thinking about you; as one would after such an awkward interaction.

Jungkook sneakily prods. “Babe, that friend you keep talking about?”

Unsuspectingly, Jia instantly says your name. “_____?”

“Hm…” He affirms.

After a few seconds of silence from Jungkook’s side, Jia irritably bit her inner cheek.

“What about _____?” She pushes.

“Oh, sorry- lost connection. I was saying I met her today.”

“What do you mean? What for?” Jia’s brain starts creating all the scenarios she was afraid would take place.

“We were stranded at the bus stand so we hitched a cab ride together...” Jungkook trails off as if he’s in deep thought.

“Did she do anything to make you uncomfortable?” She asks, worried.

“No, it wasn’t like that. I offered. I think I might’ve made her uncomfortable.”

Now, Jia was impatient, “Can you tell me what happened exactly? What did she say to you?”

Now, Jungkook was a little taken aback.

“Babe. You know I really like you, right?” Jungkook begins.

Jia pouts, “Where is this going?”

“Just…” Jungkook opened his mouth, deliberately delaying the conversation.

“Kook… something happened?” Jia involuntarily rubs up and down her arms.

He blurts, “I may or may not have told her about us. BUT, but-” – “YOU WHAT?”

Jungkook looks at his screen with wide eyes, “But I only let it slip because I thought you told her. She even said she didn’t care enough to tell anyone.”

“Oh? She said that?” Jia’s brows furrowed, both in concern and anger. Jungkook reads her expression and sighs. “She didn’t say it like that.” He repeats.

“No wonder she hasn’t responded to my texts yet. She’s supposed to fucking proofread my assignment for tomorrow. I’m so screwed.” Jia exasperates. Jungkook tilts his head. Has he really messed up? “I’m sorry, baby. Is it so bad I told her? What’s wrong with her knowing?”

Jia shook her head.

“Jungkook, GOD I wish you were with me. I’m so tense I think I need to be fucked so I can forget this ever happened.”

Jungkook smirked, “Well… I don’t have to be physically present with you to make you lose your mind.”

Jia’s mouth drops open a little. She thinks she might just start drooling at the sound of his voice.

“Now where is that Bluetooth controlled-” – “It’s already on me.” She blurts, knowing exactly what he’s about to do to her.

“Oh? Wow, my girl is so naughty. Is this what you wanted from me tonight?”

And, then you were long forgotten.

Well, until later that same night.

Before dozing off, he spent the remaining of his day replaying what had happened. He thought about the way your mood dropped after getting into the taxi and the way your eyes wandered everywhere but to him. He doesn’t know if you realised it, but you muttered a lot of words under your breath. Some of them being loud enough for him to hear.

Jungkook’s thoughts were zeroed in on you.

His mind went in and out of so many black holes, that he even thought of the possibility of you being what Jia tried to shield their relationship from. Even though they were all afterthoughts, one thing was for sure. You had caught his attention.

#fic: for what it's worth #jungkook fic #jungkook x reader #jungkook x oc #jungkook au #jeon jungkook x reader #bts x reader #jungkook angst #jeon jungkook x you #jungkook x you #jungkook fanfic #jungkook smut #jungkook scenarios #jeon jungkook angst #jeon jungkook fic

[carlsdarling]

kissing and teasing carl until he gets soo uncomfortably hard in his pants..only to leave him like that. MAYBE letting him grind against my hand so he can cum in his jeans if i’m feeling nice

Teasing

Y/N likes Carl, but Carl likes Enid and Y/N gets annoyed and teaches Carl a lesson. Bit more of a plot, than sex. Everyone is 18 or over.

WARNINGS: smut, nsfw, slightly Bratty! Reader

It pissed you off. In the morning you had left for a supply tour. In addition to you, Carl and Enid were also participating, and as always when Enid was around, Carl paid little attention to you and groveled around Enid. And Enid didn't even show much interest in him, at best amicable. That's how it appeared to you, anyway.

You gritted your teeth. Carl had picked up a red crop top with lace trim from a clothing rack at the supermarket you were looting and held it out to Enid. "I think this would look great on you," he proclaimed.

"I don't think so at all," you growled softly. The top was not Enid's style whatsoever. Enid raised her eyebrows, but said nothing.

And so it went on throughout the day. Enid this way, Enid that way. There was just no end to it. Why didn't Carl understand that you liked him? Or didn't he care?

Finally, as dawn broke, Rick declared the tour was over. "Good idea," you muttered with a nasty sideways glance at Carl who was still babbling at Enid. You packed a box of toothpaste, carried it outside, and stowed it in the trunk of one of the cars, then sat down in the back seat, sulking and brooding to yourself. The others were still busy in the surrounding stores, but you were fed up; you didn't feel like it anymore.

After a few minutes, Carl showed up on the street, carrying several packs of toilet paper. He spotted you, waved, and approached the car. After throwing the toilet paper into the trunk, he opened the car door and sat down next to you. "Whew," he sighed, wiping sweat from his forehead. His bandage looked scruffy and his hair was disarrayed.

"To what do I owe this honor?" you asked pointedly.

Carl eyed you uncomprehendingly. "What are you talking about?"

"Where's Enid?" you responded with a counter question.

"She went with Rosita and Maggie to that shoe store over there," he made a vague hand gesture down the street. "Enid really needs new boots; she walks around outside so much that the soles of her boots are coming off, and..." he expounded.

"I don't give a fuck about Enid's fucking boots!" you hissed.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" asked Carl angrily. Silently, you looked out at the empty street. In your opinion, Carl didn't deserve an answer. He exhaled a long drawn out breath. You eyed him from the side. His cheeks were flushed, and his hair fell into his forehead. Your gaze wandered to his hip, where his underwear showed above the waistband of his jeans.

"Your pants are slipping," you remarked. Carl grumbled something unintelligible and lifted his hips to adjust his jeans. "If you were hoping that Enid would somehow be impressed with you now and jerk you off afterwards, I guess you're out of luck," you said in an indifferent tone.

Carl looked at you in amazement. "What...what makes you think that's what I want?"

"Oh, you don't?" you said with a sneer. Carl looked down at his knees in shame. Somehow his behavior provoked you, and you moved closer to him and put your hand on his left thigh, drawing little circles on the fabric. Carl moaned softly, and within seconds you felt him getting hard. You stroked his hair back behind his ear and kissed his cheek, then traced a wet trail down his neck to his collarbone with your tongue. Carl unexpectedly turned his head and pressed his somewhat rough but soft lips to yours. He tasted of the Coke and salty peanuts he had eaten earlier. You returned the kiss almost angrily, biting lightly into Carl's plump lower lip.

"Keep doing that, please," he whimpered, pressing himself against your stroking hand. You had proceeded to caress his cock through his jeans, and Carl's hands moved to his belt and buttons; apparently he wanted to pull his pants down.

You slapped his hand slightly. "Don't do that," you admonished him.

"It's so uncomfortable when I'm hard in my jeans," Carl complained, squirming in his seat. "It hurts."

"The others are going to show up any minute. We need to do this quickly, and really, I don't know if you even deserve it." You stopped paying attention to his erection. "You're probably just imagining Enid. So maybe you should wait until Enid gets back from the shoe store and ask her to finish you off."

"No, I'm just thinking about you, Y/N," Carl assured desperately. "Please, Y/N, go on." He already was a mess; face flushed, hair messy, lips slightly parted, Carl was completely focused on his arousal.

"All right, on one condition, Carl," you said tartly. "That red top you offered Enid earlier when we were at the supermarket. You didn't actually offer it to me, and that's what made me so pissed," you bitched, pinching him mildly in the side so that he winced. "You're going back to the supermarket first thing tomorrow to get it for me."

"Yes, yes, anything you want," Carl vowed. "I didn't think you'd like the top. But I promise I'll get it for you."

Satisfied with that statement, you finally started again to pleasure Carl. He grinded against your hand and your wrist vigorously, while you were palming and rubbing him. Carl bucked his hips into your hand, moaning and whimpering, eyes screwed shut. Amused, you watched how fucked out he looked, how he lustfully wrenched his cute face. You continued to stroke and tease his cock, until Carl let out one final groan and cum. Wetness was spreading on the front of his jeans, and Carl's head sank back in exhaustion. Eyes still closed, he licked his lips, unable to speak. His breathing was heavy.

You spotted Enid walking toward the car, a shoebox stuck under her left arm. She opened the passenger door, gave you both a distracted look, and babbled, "It was almost impossible to find decent boots without high heels, apparently the store has been looted several times, and..." Then she seemed to register the strange atmosphere in the car. Examining, she observed first you, then Carl, who still looked fucked out and had hastily covered the wet spot in his crotch with his right hand. "Is there something wrong? Carl, you look kind of... disheveled," she complained.

"Um, I...I'm feeling hot, and I have sort of a headache," Carl lied.

Enid eyed him for almost a minute, him and his right hand still resting in his lap. "For sure," she then said scoffingly, shaking her head.

--

Tags: @loveforcarl @tessasweet @knochentrocken0808 @taylormarieee

#the walking dead #twd #carl grimes fanfiction #carl grimes x reader #carl grimes #carl grimes x y/n #carl grimes imagines #carl fanfiction #carl grimes smut

[princessbrunette]

dealer!jj blowing the smoke into your mouth bc you don’t wanna mess up your lipgloss by putting your lips on the blunt :(

♡₊˚ 🍧✧˚.🫧⋆₊⊹♡

“jj, i want to but i cant! i’m going to this party and if i smoke now my lipgloss is just gonna end up all over the joint.” you complain, tucking your feet under you on his couch as he rolls infront of you.

you’d shown up to his little shack on a friday night looking good as fuck, and whilst you usually spent the weekends showing up to his for weed and ending up face down ass up on his pull out— you were gonna be off at a random mutual friends house, getting crossfaded and having fun without him. he knows you weren’t technically his girlfriend, but he got that gross spike of jealousy in his chest, scratching at the bottom of his throat. he coughs quietly, trying to clear it.

“you always smoke with me, it’s literally tradition. you wanna break tradition? get seven years of bad luck because you’re messin’ with forces beyond your comprehension, man? nah, big mistake bucko.”

“what are you talking about?” you giggle, arm brushing his as you nudge him lightly, making him quietly tsk when you jog his handiwork. “one time won’t hurt.”

he finishes rolling and turns to you, going to hand it to you before pulling it away out of your reach. “ah, ah.” he warns, wiggling his fingers on the neatly rolled doobie. “how about, you let me shotgun this straight into your mouth. no contact, n’ your makeup stays perfect n’pretty.” he offers and you sigh, rolling your eyes making those pretty black lashes flutter up by your eyebrows.

“fine, only ‘cos i like smoking with you so much.” you grin kindly making him return the expression, patting his shorts down for a lighter.

“ain’t that sweet.” it comes out muffled as he holds the joint between his teeth, focusing on striking a flame before lighting it. he beckons you closer with his hands and you budge up excitedly, letting him take a few hits first. “whew, that’s that good shit.” he resists a cough before turning to you, eyes excited. “you ready, hot stuff?”

“you bet.” you giggle softly, watching him inhale before taking a gentle hand to your jaw and prying it open, closing in on you and blowing it into your mouth. you breathe it in, pulling back to hold it — his method surprisingly effective, before blowing it out.

“huh? i’m a genius.” he nods with a grin.

“another.” you rasp, starting to realise you enjoy the close proximity more than the actual task at hand. your tolerance was fairly low, being kind of new to smoking and you already started to feel the effects sink in after a few hits from jj’s mouth. you demand more from him, giggling with hazy eyes and his technique gets a little sloppier, very slightly grazing your bottom lip as he blows in the smoke. “careful.” you whisper once you pull away to exhale.

“my bad.” he responds, but from the look on his face he didn’t feel guilty at all. the next toke, he pulls you in with a smirk, dumps the smoke into your mouth before finally losing his composure, suddenly smashing his mouth to yours, instantly and surely smearing your gloss all over you.

you kiss back, a surprised whimper leaving you as you let him press his smokey warm tongue against yours, his arm extended to keep the joint from accidentally burning you. you remember why you had been shot gunning in the first place and push him back suddenly by the shoulders, a moderately mad pout wearing your features.

“sorry ‘bout that.”

“jj!” you scold and he beams, briefly turning to put the joint out, dropping it into the ashtray before turning back to you.

“dont make that face at me, mama. c’mere, lemme make it up to you.” it comes out in a low southern drawl, mouth coming to press against yours once more. you supposed you could be a little late to the party.

♡₊˚ 🍧✧˚.🫧⋆₊⊹♡

#anon #jj maybank prompt #dealer!jj

[yelena-bellova]

Heartfirst: A Ted Lasso Story - Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven: Movin’ On Up

Plot: Y/n receives some surprise visitors on moving day, and Richmond suffers a shocking blow to their lineup.

Word Count: 5.9k

Warnings: f!reader, language, (16+)

A/N: I really don’t know how I’m managing to crank these out so fast. Maybe shorter chapters? Anyway, this one was fun. We’re getting into the meat of the story, so hold onto your butts, and enjoy!!

(Forgive any typos, I wrote the bulk of this one at midnight 🌙)

——————

If there was a magical force at play in Richmond, it had made Y/n its latest target.

Not only had she found the perfect apartment, she’d toured it, signed the lease and booked movers in the same week. In all her post-university years, she’d never seen real estate move quicker.

Y/n wandered the flat, directing the men and whatever piece of furniture they were holding to its corresponding room.

A knock sounded from the stairs.

“Oh, the dresser can go to-“ Y/n spun around to help guide the mover she’d just seen downstairs, only to find the last person she expected.

“Hey, there, neighbor,” Ted greeted, standing at the top of the steps.

Y/n quickly plastered on her Monday-Friday grin, “Ted. What are you…how did you…?”

“Well, you said you were movin’ into your new place this weekend,” Ted hopped a step inside the apartment to let one of the movers pass by, “Took a guess that the van that came through this morning was probably yours.”

Y/n tried to laugh off the intrusion. The safety of living thirty minutes away was long gone…

“Brought you a little ‘welcome to the neighborhood’ gift,” Ted held up a little pink box and set it on Y/n’s kitchen counter. It was the same one that he dropped on Rebecca’s desk each morning.

“Thank you,” Y/n replied while pointing one of the movers in the direction of her bedroom.

Ted stuck his hands in his pockets and took a look around the living room. He let out a whistle, “I wish you’d’ve told us you were movin’ in sooner. Coaches and the boys coulda saved you some money, get you settled ourselves.”

That was exactly why she hadn’t told anyone she was moving until the day before. She knew Ted would have assembled the Greyhounds and she would have had 15+ footballers funneling in and out of her apartment, invading the little bubble she had left.

“Oh, I wasn’t gonna inconvenience you guys,” Y/n replied, watching Ted as he maneuvered around the boxes, “Especially with the match tomorrow.”

Ted made a raspberry, “Pish posh, Oshkosh. Woulda been happy to help. Hey,” Ted swirled a finger toward the ceiling, “This place got A/C?”

Y/n nodded.

“Whew,” Ted exhaled, “I gotta tell you, biggest surprise comin’ over here.”

“You get used to it,” Y/n replied, a deep double meaning to her words.

“What about you? What was the biggest shock for you, movin’ here?”

Y/n thought back to when she was eighteen, fresh out of high school and starting a brand new life in another country. Even if it had only been a few years, it felt like a decade ago.

“I don’t know,” she sighed, “Probably the difference in English. Chips versus fries, that sort of thing.”

“Man, I still slip up,” Ted said, “Took me months to get the football lingo down.”

“I still call the pitch a field sometimes,” Y/n admitted, settling on one of her barstools.

“Well, now I don’t feel so bad,” Ted chuckled as he came to sit across from Y/n, “Hey, what’s the thing you miss most from home? Just a little thing, y’know?”

Y/n sighed, thinking about the region-specific foods she couldn’t find in the international section of the market or the channels missing from her television. Truth be told, there wasn’t anything she missed so much it could be considered missing.

“I don’t know,” she shrugged, “It’s been so long since I’ve been home.”

“When was the last time you went back?” Ted asked.

“Uh…” Y/n traced back the list of holidays, “My sister’s birthday…two years ago?”

Ted whistled once more, “That’s a long time. Bet your folks miss you.”

On cue, Y/n’s muscles tensed. Her smile returned to conceal her discomfort. “My sister visits,” she said, “Every year.”

“Aw, that’s nice,” Ted cooed, “For me, it’s gotta be good barbecue. I mean, don’t get me wrong, they do food dang well over here, but I miss a good southern BBQ, y’know?”

“I actually do,” Y/n admitted with a small laugh, “4th of July’s always weird.”

Ted smacked a hand against the counter. “Thank you,” he said loudly, “Last year, we had a game. Felt like Beard and I were betrayin’ our ancestors or somethin’.”

Y/n chuckled, Ted struck her as someone who went all out for Independence Day.

“Hey, truth time,” Ted continued, the humor draining from his face, “Yea or nay on tea?”

Y/n shrugged, “I like it.”

“Dang it,” Ted bobbed his head, “Beard, you…us ex-pats keep droppin’ like flies.”

“It takes some adjusting, I’ll admit that,” Y/n raised a finger, “Not exactly a frappachino.”

“Mm-mm,” Ted shook his head, “I have tried and tried with that tree piss. Warmth ain’t goin’ anywhere north on that one.”

Y/n snorted a little, imagining what that might look like, Ted sipping on earl grey.

One of the movers asked Y/n where she wanted a bookcase and she gave him directions. For once, Ted sensed the moment.

“Well, I’ll get outta your hair,” he held up his hands and hopped off the barstool, “But I’m just down the street so you ever need anything, don’t be a stranger.”

“Good to know,” Y/n watched Ted walk away, “Ted?”

He stopped at the top of the stairs, “Hmm?”

While Ted was still a lot, after all her years spent as the foreigner, it was almost…nice to talk to someone from home. Someone she didn’t need to explain her references to or rearrange her vocabulary for.

“Thank you,” Y/n said, quickly concealing the truth of her gratitude, “For the biscuits.”

“Anytime,” Ted saluted before heading on his way.

Y/n let out a loud sigh once she was sure he was gone. She wandered back over to the counter and opened the pink box, finding the signature biscuits Rebecca raved about. Out of curiosity, she broke off a bite and ate it.

“Shit,” she mumbled, they were better than anything she’d ever found in any of London’s cafés.

Despite his line-crossing, Ted was good-natured. He had a heart of gold and tried to make sure everyone he encountered felt like they had one too. Y/n could call it tolerance or simply learning to deal with him, but deep down, Ted’s efforts were starting to poke and prod a little harder at her walls.

—————————

That evening, after the movers had finished and Y/n had gotten the basics unpacked, she started on the non-essentials. She was stacking dishes when the doorbell rang.

Y/n was perturbed as she descended her stairs, there were exactly three people who had her new address, the absolute minimum. Lisa, who handled payroll at the club, Ted, who’d stumbled upon her apartment by sheer luck, and her sister.

Looking through the peephole, Y/n sighed. She’d forgotten there was a fourth on the list.

Jamie smiled smugly as Y/n opened the door, “You went with mine.”

Y/n rolled her eyes, “I didn’t ‘go with yours.’ I was the one who found it, you just deemed it worthy.”

“And I was right,” Jamie stuck his neck out and lifted off his heels.

She’d never give him the satisfaction of knowing, but Jamie was completely right. The night of the West Ham match, the two of them had stayed at the Crown and Anchor till Mae kicked them out, pouring over each apartment until they’d eliminated 75% of the stack. The one Y/n had settled on was also the one that Jamie had decided was the best.

Jamie held up a plastic takeaway bag, “Come bearin’ sustenance.”

Not only was Y/n tired, she didn’t want to entertain anybody else from work. But, starving as she was, she was in no position to turn down free food.

“Entry permitted,” she snatched the bag from him, “Barely.”

Jamie took an exaggerated step over the seal and passed Y/n. They’d gotten to know each other better over the last few weeks, Jamie stopping Y/n anytime he saw her to ask about the apartment tours she was taking on the weekends. They’d gotten many laughs out of the stories of Y/n going against Jamie’s advice and visiting the properties that did indeed turn out to be crap.

In another world, they’d almost consider each other friends.

Upstairs, Jamie swung his arms as he took in the living room, “Not bad.”

“‘Not bad?’” Y/n turned around from where she stood in the adjoining kitchen, “You pick this place out and then it’s just ‘not bad?’”

Jamie cackled, spinning on his heel and pointing a finger at Y/n. “That’s an admission.”

Y/n internally cringed, her sharp edge was dulled by exhaustion. She could usually keep up with Jamie. “If you want any of this,” she unpacked the styrofoam container of kebabs, “You’ll stay on my good side.”

“Can’t have any,” Jamie replied, coming to lean on the bar, “Diet, ‘member?”

Y/n shook her head, popping a stray piece of chicken into her mouth. “I still don’t get why you’re doing this.”

“You know why,” Jamie crossed his arms on the counter, “Gotta get back to being the best.”

“Yeah, but is being better than Zava worth missing out on things like food and sleep?” Y/n asked. She could appreciate Jamie’s drive, but this dedication seemed overboard.

“It’ll be worth it,” Jamie stated.

Y/n decided to play the asshole, sliding across the kitchen to wave the kebab box under Jamie’s nose. She watched his willpower waver ever so fleetingly.

Jamie glared up at her, “You’re evil.”

Y/n snickered as she went back to her spot, stealing a bite before going back to unpacking. “Why are you here? Shouldn’t you be with Roy?”

“Night before a match, I’m off,” Jamie swung around the bar to the kitchen.

“So shouldn’t you be resting?” Y/n asked as she un-bubble wrapped a stack of plates.

“I will,” Jamie shrugged, bending over to peel the tape off a box.

Y/n glanced over, watching as Jamie began to unpack various glasses. He didn’t offer, he didn’t ask, just went about it as if it were his business. It was slightly intrusive…and also kind.

Jamie Tartt, Y/n had come to learn, was nothing and everything like what she’d thought he’d be. He had more depth than he let onto and he’d shown a side of it by trying to help her find a place. And though she knew the Zava battle was a personal thing for him, she also knew how much Jamie cared about his team. He wanted to be at his best for them just as much as he did for himself.

Unlike Keeley, who announced her efforts to get Y/n to crack at every turn, or Ted, who went overboard, Jamie hadn’t tried to enter into Y/n’s life. He had simply occurred.

“Do you get nervous?” Y/n asked out of pure curiosity, “Before games?”

“Not really. I mean,” Jamie answered, lining up coffee mugs in a cupboard, “Sometimes. Depends.”

Y/n stretched on her toes to put away china she never used, “On?”

“I dunno,” Jamie replied, a particular trigger or two popping up, “Lots of things.”

“So what about tomorrow?” Y/n continued.

Any slip Jamie’s mind had made was caught with quick footing. “Nah,” he said confidently, “Nah, we got that.”

“Well, good,” Y/n exhaled, setting the empty box on the floor, “It’d be nice to get a win. And hey, if it doesn’t work out and you’re forced to retire after this season, I’m sure the reality tv world is still thriving with opportunities.”

Jamie managed to grimace while smiling, “How the fuck did you find out about that?”

“You thought the PR department wouldn’t know about that?” Y/n strode past him to get another box, “I also live in England.”

“You at least vote for me?” Jamie asked, a playful lilt to his tone.

Y/n hoisted another box of kitchenware into her arms and balanced it on her knee. “Yep, you caught me,” she sarcastically grunted, “I have a weakness for crap tv featuring mediocre footballers.”

Jamie set down the mug in his hand with a particular harshness. Mediocre footballer. “Now, hang on-“ he began.

“Less talking, more working,” Y/n cut him off, she stopped to check out the cupboard he was finishing. “That’s also not where they go.”

“What?”

“The mugs,” Y/n gestured to where her coffee maker was, “Disrupts the flow if they’re all the way over there.”

Jamie rolled his eyes, only playful annoyance accompanying. “God forbid we disturb the flow,” he lamented, grabbing a mug in each hand and heading to the correct cabinet.

They unpacked in comfortable silence a minute more before Y/n decided it didn’t matter if Jamie wasn’t nervous about the match. They needed all the encouragement they could get.

“It’ll happen tomorrow,” she said, referring to their recent losses.

Regardless of whether he was hiding any feelings or if they’d pop out the moment he stepped on the pitch, Jamie stopped what he was doing to absorb the kind words. Y/n was a recent addition to his life, certainly an unexpected one, but she felt…safe. Like even if they didn’t know anything about each other past their mutual taste in real estate, he didn’t have to act so much around her.

“Thanks,” he replied, making effort to meet her eyes.

Y/n gave a small smile, “It will.”

—————————

It didn’t.

Over the next month, Richmond’s lack of luck turned to a 7-game losing streak. Some weeks were better than others, but they all ended the same way: with the Greyhounds leaving the pitch with their heads hanging in defeat.

Luckily, Y/n was kept occupied on the eighth week. Jack Danvers was coming into the office for a meeting and Keeley had asked Y/n to be there as well.

“You’re all business-y,” she’d said, “You know way more than I do, plus, Jack really likes you.”

Y/n sat on one side of Jack, with Barbara on the other, as she and Keeley recounted the conversation and clash of opinions they’d had recently.

“I completely understand where Barbara’s coming from,” Keeley said, keeping a kind tone as she turned to her CFO, “But as I was explaining to you, I’m worried that by adding more clients that could mean less attention paid to the wonderful people we already represent.”

“And then,” Barbara chuckled, though she lacked any humor, “I reminded Keeley, as you’ve said so many times, Jack, that if it does get to the point where we feel we’re spreading ourselves thinly, then we’ll hire more people,” she grinned politely at Keeley, “It’s called ‘growth.’”

Y/n and Keeley glanced over at one another fleetingly, the tension was so poorly concealed, it was getting uncomfortable.

“I’m sure you can see that as well, Y/n,” Barbara gestured towards Y/n.

“Actually, Keeley’s absolutely right, in my opinion,” Y/n answered, spotting her boss a smile, “There’s big firms, there’s small firms. Both have their allure, but I think our personability is the biggest thing we have going for us.”

“Oh,” Barbara’s grin grew scarier, “Wonderful, wonderful…”

Jack looked sweetly towards Barbara, “Okay. Let me weight in here.

“Oh, please,” Barbara obliged.

“I agree with Keeley,” Jack finished.

“Oh, that’s great,” Barbara beamed.

“Being a small boutique firm is exactly what sets you apart, like Y/n said,” Jack went on, “You want a restaurant to look successful, you take out half the tables and you have a line out the door. I say, let’s go for it.”

Keeley and Jack shared a smile.

“No, that’s wonderful. Yeah,” Barbara forced out as she rose, “And instead of salaries, we can give away the tables we threw out.”

“Don’t worry, Barbara,” Jack called, “It’ll be great.”

Barbara mumbled some dishonest agreement as she left the room, leaving it open on her way out.

Jack turned to Keeley and Y/n, “Do you ever think sunshine gets jealous of her?”

The women shared a laugh just before a knock at the door revealed Shandy. “Knock, knock.”

“Hi, babe,” Keeley greeted her friend.

“Now that your little cool girls meeting’s done,” Shandy leaned on the empty chair, very visibly unhappy, “Just wanted to share the exciting news that I’ve started an app.”

“Oh,” Keeley replied.

“It’s like Bantr, but it’s better and cooler,” Shandy’s tone was even and icy, “And actually cares about helping people have sex with celebrities.”

Y/n kept her head down, sharing an awkward glance with Jack. This was strictly Keeley’s business to handle.

“What? Shandy-“ Keeley began.

“It’s called ‘Star Fuckr,’” she announced before looking to Jack, “And yeah, we are looking for investors.”

When Jack didn’t offer to write a multi-zero check right then and there, Shandy stood tall, shot daggers at Keeley and strutted her way out of the room.

“I take it she’s still angry about the whole Bantr thing?” Jack asked.

“Oh, yes,” Keeley nodded, “Shandy does not have a good relationship with rejection, or her ex, or with her workplace, or most nouns, really.”

“‘You are so passionate, but I have to let you go,” Jack said, pulling Y/n and Keeley’s attention, “‘I’m sorry, but I know someone as brilliant as you will land on their feet.”

Keeley struggled momentarily, “What did I do?”

“No, no, no, no,” Jack reached out across the desk, “Keeley, sorry. That’s what you say when you fire Shandy.”

Y/n and Keeley both exhaled forcefully, laughing after.

“Sorry,” Jack apologized.

“No, no, it’s fine,” Y/n’s hand was pressed to her chest, “I just saw my lease flash before my eyes.”

“It’s called a compliment sandwich,” Jack explained, “You give someone bad news, but to soften the blow, you slap it between two delicious slices of compliments.”

Keeley nodded, “But I can’t fire Shandy. She’ll hate me. And she really thinks she’s killing it.”

“I am sure she does,” Jack exhaled, “The worst people often think they’re the best. My dad calls it ‘talent dysmorphia.’”

Keeley laughed while Y/n stayed silent, knowing what was coming next.

“What do you think?” Keeley turned to her hardest worker, “Do you think it’s the right decision?”

Y/n looked down at her notebook, taking a deep breath to see if it would help the force of what she wanted to say dissipate. Jack was waiting on her too, and she couldn’t lie to her or Keeley.

“I think…” she started slow before shutting her eyes and letting it fly, “Keeley, if you don’t fire her, she will literally run the company into the ground and strut over its mangled corpse.”

When she opened her eyes, Jack and Keeley were leant back an inch or two as if to avoid the splash of her opinion. Before she could try and explain it more eloquently, the two women started laughing.

“No, no,” Jack chuckled, “Don’t hold back.”

Y/n exhaled with a small smile, turning to Keeley, “I’m sorry.”

“No,” Keeley reached a hand over and poked the back of Y/n’s, “That’s why you’re my best. You don’t hold back.”

It was ironic, they both knew, considering how withdrawn Y/n kept herself. But with Keeley, it seemed to be a bit of a joke between the two of them.

“You two wanna get some lunch?” Jack asked when the giggles had died down, “My meeting just got pushed.”

“Abso-fucking-lutely,” Keeley smiled, “Yeah, my stomach started grumbling when you said ‘compliment sandwich.’”

“You guys enjoy,” Y/n rose with them and collected her purse, “I’ve gotta get back to the office.”

“Oh,” Keeley reached back over her desk and handed Y/n a sheet of paper, “Give this to Zava. A couple more people called requesting interviews.”

Y/n glanced over the list she’d originally made, it seemed like the Zava craze still hadn’t died down. In fact, the more Richmond lost, the more people wanted to hear what he had to say. “Are we sure it’s a good idea to do so many interviews on a seven-game streak?”

“That’s the thing,” Keeley grabbed her coat, “The press eat up whatever Zava says. Can’t get enough.”

Quirking an eyebrow in understanding, Y/n tucked the list in her book and tried to imagine the ridiculous headlines that would be tied to Richmond this week.

—————————

Returning to the office after having taken lunch by herself, Y/n rapped two knuckles on the open locker room door. She still knew to wait for the all-clear.

“Everybody decent?”

A chorus of various ‘yeses’ were her key in.

“Zava,” Y/n turned to the star player, “Here’s your interview schedule. The press is really eager this weekend in particular. Let me know if there’s any changes you want to make.”

Zava pressed a hand to his heart and touched Y/n’s arm with the other. “Thank you,” he said softly, before looking to his teammates, “Men.”

Taking hold of both her shoulders, Zava guided Y/n to stand in front of him. “Okay,” Y/n stuttered as she was stood in front of the entire team. Seated in the middle of the room with Isaac, Jamie matched her confused gaze.

“This is what your hearts should be seeking,” Zava began to wax his odd form of poetry, “Brains, talent, warmth-“

Y/n’s brow creased, what the fuck had she walked into?

“Outer beauty will fade,” he continued, “But a smudge like this,” Zava smiled down on Y/n, “It will last forever.”

Zava patted her shoulders once more before throwing his towel over his shoulder and exiting the room. Not only was Y/n left with every Greyhound staring at her, contemplating Zava’s words, but with his schedule still clutched in her hand.

“Can someone make sure he gets this?” Y/n asked, failing to keep her tone even.

“Oh,” Dani raised his hand and climbed over Jamie’s leg to get to Y/n, “I will.”

Y/n willingly handed it off, “Thank you, Dani.” Not caring to spend another second in the room, she turned on her heel and left. She backtracked her steps quickly, “Is a smudge a good or a bad thing?”

Colin scrunched his face up, “It’s not…not…a good thing.”

Pressing a hand to her temple, Y/n decided she didn’t need to know any more about whatever conversation she’d interrupted and left the locker room.

—————————

The Man City match came about like every other one, but the air of anticipation heightened with each week. Would this be the day Richmond finally broke their streak? Or would they take another step towards double digits?

Not more than a second after Y/n had parked in the car lot, her phone rang with a call from Higgins.

“Hi,” she answered, “What’s going on?”

“Are you here yet?” Higgins asked, his tone nervous.

Y/n shut the door to her car, striding towards the back entrance to the stadium. “I just pulled in.”

“Could you pop into the coach’s office?”

“Yeah,” Y/n hung on the syllable suspiciously, turning in the other direction and swinging the door to the office building open. “Be right there.”

Y/n took long steps down the hall, passing by the locker room and heading straight for Ted’s office.

“Hey,” she said as she entered. Coach Beard, Roy and Higgins were standing around the desk clump, huddled together in conversation. Ted was already on the pitch. “What’s wrong?”

Beard kept his hand pressed to his mouth, Roy scowled at the air.

“It seems that Zava hasn’t showed up yet,” Higgins answered, “No one knows where he is.”

Y/n’s lips parted in confusion, “He’s just…not here?”

“Apparently so.”

Setting aside her annoyance, Y/n snapped into work mode and pulled her phone from her coat pocket. “Alright,” she scanned her contacts, “Let me get on the phone with some people. See if I can track him down.”

“He’d better fucking be here,” Roy growled at no one in particular.

Y/n raised her phone to her ear and pointed to Roy and Trent’s office, the former nodding for her to take it. She started at the top of the list of Zava’s personal team he’d given to her, Keeley and Higgins. Why a fecalist needed to be considered an emergency contact, Y/n would never understand, but she’d try whoever she had to…

Except the fecalist hadn’t heard from him.

Or his agent.

Or anyone Y/n dialed.

Defeatedly, and beginning to grow anxious, Y/n rejoined Beard, Roy and Higgins. “No one knows where the fuck he is,” she answered.

“Fuck,” Roy muttered.

“We got three minutes,” Beard shrugged, “What the fuck do we do?”

“Start Colin,” Roy resolved before looking to Y/n, “If you track that prick down, I don’t care, you fucking get on the pitch and tell us.”

Y/n gave a definitive nod, “You got it.”

With not so much a plan as a temporary fix, Roy and Beard left for the locker room while Y/n and Higgins headed for the hall.

“I told everyone to call me if they hear from him,” Y/n reported as they walked.

“What could be so important to make him miss a match?” Higgins pondered as they made their way to the stadium.

“I don’t know, but so long as his wife and kids are breathing and in possession of all their limbs,” Y/n practically growled, the cheering of packed house of Greyhounds growing louder with each step, “I’ll drag him onto the field myself.”

—————————

Rebecca took to the news…as expected.

“Who the fuck does he think he is?”

Y/n sat on one side of her boss, raising two fingers of the hand rubbing at her temple, in agreement.

“So just, no one’s heard from him?” Rebecca asked.

“No one,” Higgins grimaced.

“Well,” Rebecca let her palms fall against her legs, “There goes any chance of a win.”

“Let’s pray otherwise,” Y/n scanned her phone for the fifth time since she’d sat down. It was then that she realized there was a very vocal presence missing. “Where’s Keeley?”

Snapping out of her most likely violent thoughts, Rebecca unlocked her phone and held it up to Y/n. She found a text thread from Keeley including a message that said she’d be missing the game. Below it was a picture of a baby lamb standing on the table of the KJPR conference room, surrounded by its own feces.

Three months ago, Y/n might have had a question or twelve. Now, she simply nodded and sat back in her seat. “So Shandy’s gone,” she mumbled to herself.

The game went as well as the last ones had. Colin, though talented, couldn’t rival Zava’s skill. Jamie’s extra training wasn’t the solution either, and Man City walked away with a 4-0 win against the Greyhounds.

Rebecca retired to her office while Higgins and Y/n headed to touch base with the coaches. Trent met them along the way.

“No one heard from him?” Trent asked Y/n on their way.

“Not a single text or call during the game,” Y/n scrolled her phone as they walked, an Instagram notification popping up, “Shit.”

Higgins looked over, “What?”

Y/n stopped midway to their destination, hitting play on the video.

“Hello, how are you?” Zava spoke, dressed in casual wear, “I’m just - I have to share something with you, my friends. You are not my followers. You are my believers.”

Trent and Higgins came to stand beside Y/n, expectantly waiting for an answer.

“And so it— I have to tell you,” the man paused, “Zava has played his last match. I will now dedicate all of my time and all of my energy to my family and my avocado farm.”

The rest of whatever utter nonsense Zava had to spew, Y/n didn’t listen. She was infuriated, partially because of his actions, and partially because they’d all allowed themselves to think it was ever a good idea to hire him. He’d fed the Greyhounds to the wolves with no regret and it affected all of AFC Richmond.

When the video ended, Trent, Y/n and Higgins shared a hopeless look.

“We’ve got to tell the boys,” Higgins finally spoke, shrugging slightly.

The three of them made their way down the rest of the hall where the locker room door hung open. The scene inside was dismal, each of the men sat on the benches with their heads hung.

“Hey, guys,” Higgins greeted in an attempt to stay positive, “Good effort today.”

“Mr. Higgins,” Colin spoke up from his seat, “Is it true about Zava?”

Y/n cast her gaze downwards, avoiding eye contact with any of them.

“I’m afraid so,” Higgins replied.

Dani, cradling a towel to his face, began to weep into the fabric.

“Maybe some tissues for Dani,” Higgins muttered quietly.

“Hey, hey, guys,” Sam stood with his phone in hand, “Zava just posted a video.”

“Oh gosh,” Y/n grumbled under her breath as the Greyhounds circled up. Everyone except Jamie, who remained sat on the floor.

The boys watched the video, clinging to every last word at the start, and walking away with mumbled curses and shakes of the head. Any love or respect they had for their former teammate had been lost within thirty virtual seconds.

Y/n snuck a glance over at Jamie, expecting to see him struggle to keep his joy under wraps. She couldn’t have been more wrong. Even he was in shock.

“Gentlemen,” Ted said as he entered, quickly noticing Y/n’s presence, “And lady. That was a tough one tonight. Okay? Man City has still got our number. That’s all right. We gonna get another crack at ‘em later in the season. Uh-huh,” Ted looked to Beard, “Coach? No practice tomorrow.”

Beard nodded, “That’s right.”

“Okay,” Ted looked back to the team, “Well, I’ll see y’all on Monday.”

While the rest of the team began to talk amongst themselves, Sam looked up confusedly at Ted. “Hey, hey. Hey, Coach,” he called till the manager stopped in his tracks, “What about Zava?”

Ted glanced over at Zava’s multiple lockers, his empty chair.

“He quit the team,” Sam stated, as if it unheard news.

“I mean, technically he retired from the whole sport,” Ted clarified, “Which makes it feel a little less personal, yeah? You know, like if your girlfriend runs off with some dude and it turns out they were soulmates.”

The Greyhounds replied quietly in agreement.

“But look, look, look, look,” Ted redirected their focus back, “I hear you, okay? Zava is gone. And you know what? I think it’s a good thing.”

The boys began to argue back in shock.

“Well, I do. Okay, look,” Ted spoke over his players, “Do I wanna win? Heck yeah. But I also wanna do it with folks that wanna be here. It’s not like we could handcuff him to his locker and make him love us.”

“We could have tried,” a desperate Dani replied.

As the initial surprised faded, Y/n was beginning to match Ted’s opinion. Zava may have taken them for a temporary ride to the top, but this ultimate insult had shown that his heart was next in Richmond.

“Hey, guys. Guys, look,” Ted held up a hand, “We got a good thing going here. All right?” Ted’s eyes fell to his left, meeting Jamie’s, “We didn’t need Zava. Yeah?”

No one dared disturb the silence as the truth washed over each of them, including those who weren’t players.

“Yeah,” Ted said quietly, “All we need to win are the fellas in this room, right now,” he pointed to the men on the benches, “And all you fellas need to do is believe it.”

No sooner than when Ted had uttered the last two words did the bright yellow ‘Believe’ sign hanging over his head split itself down the middle. The Greyhounds jumped to their feet and cried out to various degrees. Even Y/n gasped a little, having learned of its significance.

“It’s a sign,” Bumbercatch called out.

“That’s it,” Colin held up his hands, accepting fate, “We’re doomed.”

As the locker room grew louder, Ted held up his hands and attempted to settle things down.

“Now hold on. Hey, knock it off, okay? We’re not doomed. No one is doomed. But Bumbercatch, yes, you’re right. It is a sign. I agree, Yeah.”

Ted turned around and removed both halves of his handiwork, folding them together. “In fact this, it’s just a sign.”

Without any hesitation, Ted tore the paper into four pieces, sending the locker room into chaos again.

“All right, guys, listen to me,” Ted commanded the room, “Belief doesn’t just happen ‘cause you hang something up on a wall. All right? It comes from in here,” he touched his chest, “You know? And up here,” he touched his temple before hitting his stomach, “Down here. Only problem is, we all got so much junk floating through us, a lot of times, we end up getting in our own way.”

Y/n had yet to be present for any of Ted’s locker room speeches, as she had no reason to be. But immediately, like some spiritual presence moving through the room, she felt his words take hold of her.

“You know, crap like envy or fear, shame,” Ted continued, seemingly speaking to himself as well, “I don’t wanna mess around with that shit anymore. You know what I mean? Do you?”

He wasn’t speaking to her, but the question still penetrated Y/n all the same. She could feel a familiar ball of anxiety beginning to build in her stomach.

“No, me neither,” Ted shook his head after the boys answered back, “Hell no. Well, you know what I wanna mess around with? The belief that I matter, you know? Regardless of what I do or don’t achieve.”

One blade inserted itself into Y/n’s gut, the omnipresent pain causing her heart rate to speed up.

“Or the belief that we all deserve to be loved,” Ted went on, “Whether we’ve been hurt or maybe we’ve hurt somebody else.”

A second blade settled in Y/n’s chest, this one causing the muscles to contract. She closed her eyes in an attempt to keep the rising emotions at bay.

“Or what about the belief of hope?” Ted asked, “Yeah? That’s what I wanna mess with. Believing that things can get better. That I can get better. That we will get better.”

Better, Y/n thought on the word. Better. Did things ever get better? Or did ‘bad’ just shapeshift into something else? Did it just wait along the road in the shadows, waiting for ‘better’ to come merrily on its way?

“Oh, man,” Ted sighed, “To believe in yourself. To believe in one another. Man, that’s fundamental to being alive. And look. Yo, hey. If you can do that,” he pointed to each player in the room, “If each of your can truly do that-“

Ted made one more rip down the sign’s tatters, walking to the center of the room. “Can’t nobody rip that apart.”

As the remains of the sign slapped against the metal bench, Y/n’s anxiety reached its brim. She placed a near shaking hand on Higgins’ shoulder to signal she was leaving before slipping out the back door. Blearily, she made it down the hall and outside, the fresh air of the parking lot slamming into her.

Once in the safety of her car, she allowed herself to weep.

Zava was the furthest thing from her mind. The incoming headlines, another loss on the scoreboard…all of it. She couldn’t have cared less if she’d tried. All she could feel was the crippling ache in her chest, the sting of her tears, the overwhelming feeling that came with being utterly alone. When a person became aware of just how much bigger the world around them was and how infinitely small they really were. The pain that could be remedied with a simple hug or a comforting word.

Y/n let out a silent sob, the familiar ache of all she wanted having taken a new form, once again. It would certainly kill her to allow herself her basic needs, to walk back in and hurt with the people inside. And it would break her all the same to continue hiding.

————

Heartfirst Taglist: @lalla-04p @optimisticsandwichgladiator @makingmunson94 @taytaylala12 @storysimp @sokkigarden @lightninginab0ttle @poohkie90 @alipap3 @verra-nerevarine @shineforever19 @spaceagechimera @burnafter-reading @qardasngan @cyberpvnk-enthusiast @sogoodtoheritsvicious @buckybarnex @angelsunflxwer @blueanfield @thewildestwonderland @sablecities

#ted lasso imagine #ted lasso fanfiction #ted lasso fanfic #ted lasso fic #jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt imagine #ted lasso x reader #keeley jones x reader #rebecca welton x reader #heartfirst

[thetriumphantpanda]

congrats on 1k, angel!!! 💙 so soo proud of you!

whew okay, so the way i debated between wayyy too many things for your celebration because options 😵‍💫 but we're goin with mirror sex and breath play, ily ty

Bea, I love you. Thank you so much for your kind words - I'm grateful to call you a friend! And thank you so much for your request - mirror sex and breath play with Joel Miller coming right up. I hope you love it - it's a little different to what I'd normally go for, so I'm nervous to share it, but here we go!

Pairing | Joel Miller x Female Reader

Word Count | 2k

Warnings | Explicit. 18+, Minors DNI. So, obviously we have breath play and mirror sex, there's some dirty talk, soft!Joel, some body insecurity from reader too.

Part of my 1k Smut Sensation Celebration - if you want in, check here for details - I’m accepting requests through July 15th.

You sigh as you take in your appearance in the bedroom mirror. There was no shying away from the fact that these past months in Jackson had changed your body. No longer scrounging for twenty-year-old cans of food or going days without eating just to make sure Ellie had enough. Here there was an abundance of everything. The warm stews from the mess hall, the fresh produce you cooked in your home, the barbecue food that would sometimes appear at The Tipsy Bison, it was all having an effect. 

You’d tried to ignore the pinching of your waistband all day, had even popped the button at lunchtime and not bothered to do it back up until you have to walk back home, but as you lifted the hem of your shirt, Joel’s shirt, you could see the red lines the material had made on your skin. Doubt started to fill your mind. He’d stuck around through thick and thin with you, been there on your darkest days, and you on his, had seen your body go through far more than gaining a little weight, and still never left, but this place was different. 

You couldn’t help but think about all the women here, captivated by the broad, mysterious new man who kept to himself. You heard them whispering in the bar about everything they’d like to do to him if only he’d give them a chance. Whether they noticed you listening in or not, it didn’t matter, you knew if Joel ever tired of you, he’d have the pick of the bunch. 

You can feel the tears building behind your eyes, willing yourself to swallow them down before you lose control, when you feel that familiar, strong pair of arms encircle your waist. Automatically you mold into his frame, letting him nuzzle into the crook of your neck, he’s an observant man though, he knows something is wrong. 

“What’s wrong, sugar?” You’ll never tire of that Southern drawl in your ear. 

“It’s stupid.” You mumble, trying to turn in his arms, he’s keeping you exactly where you are though. 

“Ain’t stupid if you’re upset,” He presses the softest of kisses to your cheek, “Tell me.” 

“Jeans don’t fit.” You murmur, hoping that he won’t force you to repeat it, forgetting that he is actually pretty deaf these days. 

“Huh?” Yep. Deaf as a doornail. 

“I said,” You clear your throat, tears threatening to spill again, “My jeans don’t fit anymore.” 

You can feel his breath exhaling deeply through his nostrils once he hears you, his arms bringing you closer, fitting tighter around your middle. 

“That ain’t a bad thing, baby,” He muses, kissing the soft skin behind your ear, “Mean’s you’re alive, mean’s we’re livin’, properly now.” 

“I know,” You whine, wriggling your body to try and get him to change the subject, “I just….” 

“Just what?” He’s kissing down your neck now, “You gotta tell me what’s wrong, baby, else I can’t help.” 

“Worried,” You sigh, mainly from frustration, but also from the sensation of his hot mouth on your skin, “Worried you won’t like me anymore.” 

He movement of his mouth stops dead, pulling away from you, but keeping his arm tight around your middle, “Did I just hear you right, baby?” He asks, “Worried I won’t like you anymore?” 

You nod silently, meeting his eyes in the mirror. He’s watching you intently in the reflection, taking one of his big palms from your middle to take your chin in his grip, “Look at yourself,” He commands, “You don’t see what I see?” 

“I guess not?” You shrug, not being able to shake your head through his grip on your chin. 

“Sugar,” He breathes, “I could never not want this face,” He’s let go of your chin and is instead trailing his fingers lightly over your cheeks, “The way your cheeks have gone plump, and that little dimple you get here,” He presses his finger right where he’s talking about, “Whenever you smile, you drive me crazy baby.” 

Then he’s letting his other arm drop from your middle, placing a hand on either of your shoulders, teasing his fingers lightly down the skin of your arms until your flesh is erupting in goosebumps, even through the material of his flannel that you’re wearing. Once he’s trailed his hands back up to your shoulders, he’s unbuttoning the shirt, slowly but surely, and then dragging it off your frame, leaving you in just your bra and jeans. 

This is the sight you hate. The way your tummy spills over the top of the waistband, the way the bra is definitely too small to comfortably do up in the back, causing little rolls of skin to spear, bunching around the material. 

“Stop thinkin’ and listen to me,” He murmurs, back at your ear now, hands reaching around you to cup your breasts through your bra, “Always loved these,” His hot mouth is back to pressing kisses on the skin behind your ear, “Ain’t ever gonna complain about them getting bigger.” He’s firm in his squeeze which has you tipping your head back, pushing your chest further into his palms, but he’s already moving on. 

His fingertips are gently running down your sides and over the curve of your waist, your body jolting when his touch borders on tickling, until he’s reaching around and undoing the button of your jeans and pulling the zipper down. There’s an instant relief, but you can see those damn red marks again. 

“You see this?” He’s looking at you in the mirror again, urging your eyes to look at his hands where they are on your hips, “My favourite place to rest my hands, when I’m grabbin’ you in the kitchen to move you outta the way, or helpin’ you bounce on my cock.” 

The utter filth mixed with the sweet sentiment have arousal pooling between your legs, you can already feel the need to rub your thighs together for a second of relief. You always wonders how he does this – takes the things you think are your biggest flaws and makes them seem so insignificant, but in the best way possible. 

His hands skin the waistband of your jeans, hands slipping beneath the denim to grip the globes of your ass, “Do I need to say anythin’ about this, baby?” He asks, “Think you know exactly what I think about this peach.” 

He’s right. You know it’s always been one of his favourite parts of you. The way his eyes would trail over you when you bent over when you were out on the road. The way he pulled at your hips to pull you closer into his body whenever he slept behind you. The way he would bring a hard palm down on the skin when he was fucking into you from behind or give it a playful swat whenever he walked past. The way he would grip onto it, much like he was now, when he would kiss you. He needn’t elaborate this time. 

He shucks your jeans and underwear down to your ankles, guiding you to step out of them, before he makes quick work of unclipping your bra. You’re fully naked now, a sight you don’t think you’ve seen from yourself in many years. You want to shy away from it, want to pick apart the scars across your body, the added weight to your thighs and stomach. But when Joel is stood behind you, looking into your eyes in the mirror like he just won the lottery, it all inconsequential. None of it matters anymore. Because he was right. This means you’re alive, and you’re happy. You’ve got the man you always wanted to worship the ground you walk on. So what if you needed to go to the outfitters tomorrow for a new pair of jeans?

You meet Joel’s eyes in the reflection, noticing how your own eyes darken with lust at the same time his do, “You’re wearing far too many clothes, Joel Miller.” You whisper, voice low and husky. 

You place a palm on the glass, leaning yourself forward. Your ass presses only momentarily into his crotch, before he’s pulling away and practically ripping his own clothes off. He’s naked and behind you in what feels like seconds. His calloused fingers are reaching around and slipping through your folds, dipping down to your entrance, where he finds you slick. 

“Mama…..” He breathes, the term of endearment making you blush, “So wet and ready for me.” 

“Always Joel.” You breathe as he brings those soaked fingers up to play with your clit.

You push yourself back into him, chasing his thick cock. You’re aching for him, always are. 

“Look at yourself,” He’s saying, “Watch yourself when I give you my cock.” 

You do exactly as he says, eyes on your own in the reflection as you feel him line himself up with your slick sex. 

“I’ll spend the rest of my life tellin’ you just how beautiful I think you are, sugar,” He says, hand resting at your throat as he slides his cock into your aching cunt, “Gonna love you regardless of how many new pairs of jeans you might need, you hear me?”

You don’t answer straight away, overwhelmed as always by the way he’s stretching you open as he works himself into your pussy to the hilt. You’d never watched yourself like this and it’s almost like you’re having an out of body experience. You know the girl in front of you, with her mouth hanging open and her eyes glazed over is you and you know the man grunting behind you with his cock finally sheathed in your cunt is Joel, but it doesn’t seem real somehow. 

“Gotta answer me baby,” He speaks as he draws his cock from you almost all the way, “Only gonna give it to you if you answer.” 

“Yes Joel…” You whine, and you’re rewarded with his cock slamming back into you. 

He sets that pace, one hand pressed firmly at your pussy, working at your clit, the other at the base of your throat where he squeezes every now and then. You’ve seen Joel in a thousand circumstances where he’s had his hand around someone’s throat before. None of them have ever ended well for the other party. He could snap you in half like a twig if he wanted, but the way he rests his hand, squeezing just enough to cut your air for seconds before he releases, does nothing but thrill you. It sends shocks down your spine, straight to your pussy. You can feel how wet you are, you can hear it as he stuffs you with his length. 

You can see him in the mirror, and the visual is obscene. His teeth sucking his bottom lip into his mouth, the way his eyes are focused on the place where you’re joined together. You’re reveling in watching his fingers work your clit and you can feel that telltale coil in your belly start to unravel.  

“Joel – fuck – don’t stop, I’m gonna….” 

“Watch yourself,” He demands again, squeezing the hand at your throat, tilting your chin ever-so-slightly so you’re watching, his fingers rub a few more times over your clit before you’re letting go, “See how fucking pretty you look when I make you come, baby?” 

There are no words at this point. Your legs are threatening to fail you, all you can feel is the way he’s hitting that sweet spot inside of you, repeatedly. All you can hear is his skin slapping against yours, your moans and groans combining. Then, just like he always does in this position, he’s pulling himself from your clenching walls and fisting his own cock. You hear him first, the low growl you’ve come to know and love, then you feel it, the warm ropes of cum spilling over the cheeks of your ass and dripping down your thighs. 

You’re both quiet for a moment, respectively trying to catch your breath, before he’s wrapping his arms around your waist and dragging you backwards to the bed. He throws you down on the sheets, a surprise yelp leaving your mouth. 

“Joel, the sheets!” You exclaim, “We just changed them, now they’re going to be covered.” 

“Don’t care,” He grumbles, dropping to his knees in front of you, dragging you forward by an ankle, “Wanna eat this perfect pussy, make you forget everything, so all you’ll know is my name and what this mouth feels like.”  

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[glowingbadger]

Guarantee y'all didn't expect Shane to be my next target lmao but I've started a new sdv game and he's just such a sweet man and I want nice things for him. As the kids say- poor little meow meow

CW for a brief alcoholism mention

And damn Reader-Chan is a lot more forward in this than I usually write them lol but that's kinda necessary with a guy like Shane tbh.

Shane (SDV) x GN/AFAB Reader

A roll in the hay

NSFW 18+

Shane nudges open the door of your chicken coop with a bucket of fresh water in one hand and a hay bale balanced on his shoulder with the other.  You look up from where you’d been securing a new hinge on the smaller rolling door, and smile at the sight of him.  Truth be told, you’ve been looking at him a lot lately.  The healthy flush and subtle sheen of sweat on his skin pair nicely with the worn-in jeans and t-shirt he’s wearing to help you work.  His posture is straighter these days, and it draws your eyes up to strong shoulders that you hadn’t noticed were so broad until recently.  You’ve noticed other things, too- that he shaves more often, though by late afternoon he’s regained that five-o-clock shadow you’d always thought was strangely handsome on him.  That he positively glows and smiles in a way that brings creases to the corners of his eyes when he talks about Jas, or all the progress he and Marnie have made with the animals.  That he spends less time at the Saloon and more visiting you.

“Over here good?” he asks, shaking you from your thoughts.

“Hm?  Oh- yeah, that corner’s perfect, thanks,” you straighten up and brush off the front of your shirt and shorts, with a brief ‘whew!’  Then, you take a look around the newly-immaculate coop with your hands planted proudly on your hips. 

“Man, this place is looking as nice as the day Robin built it.  I really appreciate your help today, Shane.” you smile, catching the way he fidgets with the pocket knife in his hand as he bends to cut the bale of hay loose.

“Nah, it’s no big deal.”

“Well it is to me.  Afterall, I’ve got assistance from the Valley’s foremost chicken husbandry expert.” you’re sure to add a note of grandeur to the title.

“‘Foremost expert?’  C’mon,” he says with a short laugh.  In a practiced motion, he cleanly cuts the ropes around the hay and pulls them free, adding, “You give me way too much credit.” 

“And you give yourself no credit,” you reply, crossing your arms in a faux-pout as he rises and turns to you, “So I have to give you enough for the both of us.” 

He sighs, but he can’t seem to help the way the corner of his mouth curls into a grin.  With his dark brown eyes cast low, he tries to act like he’s focusing really hard on closing up his knife and storing it back in his pocket. 

“Well, y’know,” he mumbles, “I’m… happy to help with anything you need, just ask.  I’d like to be more reliable- at least for Aunt Marnie and Jas, and, uh… for you.”

Your smile softens, and you step closer to him, but before you can speak, he adds,

“Sorry, that must’ve sounded weird.  I- I’m gonna get this hay taken care of.” 

You almost laugh- he’s just too sweet, but you can’t risk making him feel more self-conscious.  So, stealing just a moment longer to watch him grab the nearby rake and start work in the corner, you decide to give him a bit of space and head into the house for some water. 

Shane has just finished arranging the fresh hay in a pile in the corner of the coop by the time you come back with water bottles and towels for you both.  You toss one of each to him with a nod, which he lurches back a step to catch. 

“Thanks,” he says with a heavy exhale.  He sounds exhausted from the day’s work, but pleasantly so, and you smile as you watch him wipe his face and hands clean with the towel.  Truly, it had been a huge help to have him around to help with a few things you’d been putting off, though you suppose he’s used to this kind of work.  The chickens are content to mill around in the fields outside until you finished, and two people had made for surprisingly light work all things told, so you feel you both have earned the chance to catch your breath and relax.  

Shane stretches out his arms, one and then the other, and you note for the third or fourth time that day that he actually has some impressive strength hidden on that physique of his.  You’d only recently started to take note, but it makes sense; carrying around product crates at Joja every day for so long- and now at Pierre's -not to mention the work he does to help Marnie with her own chickens, it follows that he’d have built up some muscle under his soft exterior.  Looking at him once again causes a familiar flutter in your stomach, and you smile to yourself.

He takes a swig of water, then glances over at you.

“Something on my face?”

You shrug.

“No, sorry,” you make your way towards the hay piled up in the corner and plop down onto the floor, then lie back against it, reclining comfortably with your hands behind your head and legs crossed out in front of you.  Shane follows your lead, careful to keep a respectful distance as he settles on straw beside you.  

“I was actually wondering,” you turn on your side towards him, closing half of that distance, “What suddenly inspired you to come help me out today?  Like I said, I appreciate it, you’ve been a huge help- but I figured you’d want to relax on a day off.” 

His eyes scan your face for a moment, then he looks blankly back up at the ceiling.

“Well you know, you’ve done a lot for me.  Been there for me, listened to me ramble about stupid stuff, and, uh… just figured I’d try to do something for you.” 

You smile warmly at him, but he goes on,

“And, well…” he sighs, running a hand through his dark hair, “Truth is, It’s also… been one of those days, actually.  When I start feeling like… hey, a drink or two, what’s the harm?  And I guess- if it were actually one or two, that would be fine, but I know myself.” His expression darkens, and he sighs again, heavier this time. 

“So you needed something to take your mind off of it,” you say.

“Basically, yeah,” he turns back to you wearing a wry smile, “Sorry to make you babysit me.  I guess that’s pretty lame, huh.” 

“Not at all,” you shift closer to him, “I’m really happy that you trust me enough to come to me with this.  Besides, isn’t this a huge step forward?  Reaching out and doing something productive instead of falling back on bad habits?”

“I… I guess so.” he almost looks unsure of whether he can allow himself to smile at this or not, and his eyes shy from yours. 

“Shane,” you’re lying closer to him now, your bodies in that strange space where you can feel one another without touching, “I want you to know that I’m really, really proud of you.” 

His eyes flicker down for a moment, you think towards your mouth, and his face is visibly pink. 

“Man.  How do you always know exactly what to say?  It’s… totally unfair.” 

When you bring a hand gently to his cheek and lean closer, he seems to freeze at first, until he leans towards you at the last moment before your lips meet.  Shane’s are soft, his kiss slow and incredibly tender- though tentative still.  His hand rests over yours, but gently, as though he’s not yet sure whether he should touch you.  When your tongue grazes his lower lip, he gives a breathy moan that you only barely hear, and briefly, you part from the kiss.  You rest your forehead against his, and he whispers your name with audible disbelief.  He’s trembling just a little.  His hand reverently brushes your hair from your face. 

Without a word, you kiss him again, harder this time.  He can’t hold back a low groan, and the sound squeezes around your heart and warms your body.  You only break from him for a moment to sling your leg over his hips, straddling his lap and pressing yourself to him.  At last, he wraps those strong arms around you, holding you close as your tongues tease one another and your nails dig down his chest from atop his clothes.  Your pulse is pounding, and you can feel from his chest that Shane’s is too.  Yet when your hands run down his torso to ease his shirt upward, he halts, breathless.

“Y/N, wait- you… you don’t have to do this.” 

You feel his touch abandon you.  When you look curiously down at him, he’s doing his best to appear stoic. 

“What do you mean?”

“I mean,” his eyes dart away from you, “I appreciate what you’re trying to do and everything, but… it wouldn’t feel right to go this far.  Just to, y’know, cheer me up or whatever.” 

Your heart aches as his words sink in.

“Shane,” your tone is gently admonishing, “Is it really that hard for you to believe that I like you?” 

He takes a breath, his face burning red.

“Well, uh… ki- kinda…” 

Wordlessly, you take his hands in yours and guide them to your waist.  He looks up at you, surprised, confused, and eager despite himself.  Then, you guide his touch along your sides- slowly, so he can feel each inch of your body as it passes under his palms.  When his hands reach your breasts, you encourage him, pressing his touch more firmly to you, squeezing soft flesh until you feel his cock, hot and hard between your thighs, throb conspicuously in response.  

“Shit, sorry, I-”

“Don’t apologize.” 

You grind your hips down onto him, rutting your warmth against his erection and wishing dearly that there wasn’t so much damned fabric between you and him.  He looks gorgeous like this- flush-faced, muscles tensed, watching you with rapt attention as you encourage him to touch you as he likes.  At last, it seems he no longer needs direct guidance; his hands cup and massage your breasts, firm but never rough or forceful.  Now and then, he lets his hips shift against yours, creating that wonderful friction between you.  You lean down and kiss him again, deeply and firmly, willing your feelings to reach him.  You know that words and platitudes would do nothing for a man like Shane.  You’re determined to show him how earnestly you want him. 

Once again, your fingertips play at the bottom hem of his t-shirt, slowly pulling it upward.  When your lips part from his, he’s softly panting, his breath hot and eyes hazy.  You linger near enough that your lips brush his when you speak,

“Please, Shane?” 

He nods, and you give him enough space to tug the shirt over his head.  Clumsily, he shoves the shirt beneath him to avoid scratching his back against the hay.  You think for a moment that maybe you should take this to your bedroom- but damn, he just looks too good laid out on the straw beneath you, hair mussed out of place, flushed skin still dewed with the slightest hint of sweat.

You can’t help yourself- you press your body to his and kiss down the column of his neck, stopping to bite here and there, reveling in every mark you gift him along the way.  He groans out your name, hands running along your hips, gripping the swell of your thighs, even bold enough at last to grab onto your ass and pull you against him.  Only after you’ve kissed and bitten and caressed to your heart’s content, dragged your nails down his chest and felt him arch against you, do you finally pause.  

“Wait just one second,” you whisper in the heated air between you.  Then, you get to your feet to undress.  He watches you in a state of restless arousal and lingering disbelief as you strip for him.  You’re tempted to prolong the process and really savor his adoring eyes on you- but you find you’re too eager for what’s to come.  So you remove shorts and flannel and undergarments, leaving yourself in only your work boots and returning to his lap as quickly as you can.  

“Wow…” Shane’s hands run the contours of your body as he takes you in, and you smile down at him.  

“Do you believe that I want you yet?”  Your tone is playful, but the question is at least partly sincere.  

“I dunno,” he can’t tear his eyes from your body, “Seeing you like this honestly makes it even harder to believe.  You’re just- you’re so… wow.  It feels like a dream.  Or like I’ve lost it and this is all in my head.” 

As he speaks, your hands run down his front to undo the button of his pants.  Then, you hold his gaze as you slowly drag down the zipper.  Your touch firm but gentle, you free his rock-solid cock from his boxers and let out a happy little moan at the sight of it.  On the larger side of average length, extremely thick and pleasantly veined, it’s an incredibly tempting sight.  You stroke it once with your hand, then again and again, less tentatively each time.  You enjoy the heft and shape of it, and the way Shane catches his breath at your touch.  He’s sensitive- each brush and caress of your hand, each teasing motion of your fingers, has him blushing and biting back his voice.  You consider prolonging this too, but the raw lust you can see blazing in his eyes despite himself, the way he stammers out your name when you grip him more firmly and precum slickens the head of his member- it’s far too erotic to resist.

You position yourself carefully over him, the head of his cock nestled between your lower lips- but you don’t let him enter you just yet.  Instead, you sway your hips against him, rubbing his entire length against your needy cunt.  He moans aloud, his fingers gripping tight at your thighs, his member twitching.

“Does this feel like a dream?” you say with a grin.

“No, it- it feels good,” he manages, “So damn good…” 

You continue grinding against him, bulging veins and the ridge of his crown all stroking you sinfully with each pass.  Before long, you’re able to angle yourself so your clit rubs against his cockhead as your hips sway, and you let out a pleasured whine that sends a shiver through him.  By now, he’s coated in your arousal, his length glistening with your release.  

“Can you feel how wet I am for you?”

“Nngh, yeah,” he groans, “Fuck, so hot…”

For a moment, you feel his hands at your hips trying to guide you onto him, his body bucking slightly towards you, seeking you out.  You smile and place a brief kiss to his lips, then say,

“You can stop holding back now, Shane.” 

His arm wraps around your midsection, warm and sturdy, and he turns you onto your back.  A few awkward moments pass in a frenzy as he shifts his discarded shirt under you to ensure your comfort, and you fumble a hand to the side to grab the condom from your shorts’ pocket.  He seems surprised that you’d had it on hand, but opens it and rolls it down onto his length regardless. His brow is handsomely furrowed as he guides the tip to your entrance.  You watch him in a blissful haze, arms wrapped loosely around his broad shoulders, and you gasp as he begins to push into you.  

“Ohh..!” 

Each inch of his thick cock stretches you wonderfully as he thrusts forward, and your head tilts back, your toes curl.  Once inside of you, he hooks an arm under one of your knees, holding your legs spread open as he fills you.

“Fuck, you feel even better than I imagined…” 

Your face warms at the thought that he’d fantasized about this- perhaps even pleasured himself to the thought of you.  You’ll have to pursue that train of thought later- right now, you can’t think of anything but how damn good it feels to finally have him.  To feel his body start to move in tandem with yours, massaging the bulging contours of his cock into you.  To see him looking at you like you’re some unearthly beauty.  

You pull Shane down to you and kiss him, your tongue sliding into his mouth and coaxing him further.  With a groan, he drives his hips forward, stuffing you full of him until you’ve taken him to the base of his throbbing member.  Gasping and whimpering blissfully into his mouth, your nails rake along his strong shoulders and into his hair.  Somewhere in the back of your pleasure-dazed mind, it occurs to you that if anyone happened to stop by the farm today, they’d easily hear your cries through the flimsy walls of the chicken coop.  You quickly decide that you don’t care; in this moment, nothing is more important than showing Shane how you feel about him.  He needs to know that he’s cared for, wanted, desired.  

He pulls away from your kiss, and on instinct, you tug him back down to you with your arms around his neck.  At first, he relents, relaxing back into your embrace and kissing you over and over while he bucks into you at a steady pace.  Eventually, however, he decisively straightens his back to kneel over you, his thrusts slowing but never ceasing- you’re not sure he could bring himself to stop rubbing himself against your clenching inner walls.  Just when you’re about to question him, he brings a hand between your legs, his thumb fumbling a bit clumsily at first until he strokes across your stiffened clit.  

“Ohh… fuck, right there..!” 

“Like this?”

“Yeah- ohh, yes, just like that!”

Shane takes your direction well- a bit unsure at first, the moment he finds the right pressure, the right pace, the right angle, he memorizes your preference.  Your legs wrap around his midsection, pulling him close until he’s sheathed deeply in you while his fingers tease your clit.  His free hand grips at your thigh as he watches you squirming and arching beneath him.  He’s entranced.

“S’that good?”

You nod, biting at your lower lip.

“So good, Shane… c-close- I’m gonna..!  Mmmh!” 

“Fuck-” he exhales, his hips bucking more forcefully into you, “Let me feel it.  Please, Y/N, I- I wanna feel you cum..!” 

Your thighs are trembling, your cunt squeezing tight around him.  Eyes hazy, you manage to meet his adoring gaze as you inch closer and closer to the edge.  Your hands scramble to grab onto anything, and only find the hay and his shirt beneath you.  He’s massaging your tender clit just right, his cock stretching you perfectly.  Shane is determined to satisfy you- his focus is relentless, reverent affection openly shining in his eyes.  Soon, gasping his name, your eyes roll back as you’re swallowed in a wave of mind-numbing pleasure.  And it seems bringing you to this blissful release breaks through to something in him.  

Before you’ve even fully recovered from the aftershocks of your orgasm, he lowers himself to you and wraps an arm around your waist.  His cock draws out from you nearly to the tip, then slams back in, forcing a desperate cry from your lips.  The next thrust is every bit as forceful, and you’re certain he’d be pushing you away from him if he weren’t holding you so close.  Shane maintains this pace, fucking into you with long, powerful strokes of his cock that never become fast enough to numb you to the sensation.  Your limbs feel weak, your head fuzzy and thoughts scrambled.

Shane’s lips find the crook of your neck, spoiling you with deep, erotic kisses.  When he marks you, it’s not the precious, playful little love-bites you left him; his marks are dark bruises, his teeth pressing to you until just before the pain becomes too much and leaving you branded with his lust.  Your nails scrape across his back, and in the moment, neither of you even notice.  Swollen red lines left as souvenirs will be a lasting reminder of your shared passions. 

“So tight… nngh, fuck-” he grunts your name against your skin, “Dunno… how much more of this I can take…”

“It’s okay, Shane,” you say softly between gasping moans, “I- I want it..!  Please-!” 

His kiss presses you down against the bed of hay.  His hands run up your sides, pulling you back against his thrusts, ensuring that the head of his cock hits deep with each push.  Then, panting for breath with his forehead resting on yours, you feel his climax in every part of his body on yours.  You feel the way his cock swells and lurches with each spurt of cum.  The way his hands hold almost painfully tight at your waist.  The way his muscles tense, his frame shivers, his voice stalls between grunting moans.  He’s gorgeous- and you can’t help breathing out his name as your own body feels both boneless and weightless beneath him.  Then at last, you exhale in unison, bodies still tangled together as muscles go slack.

You imagine you look an utter mess.  Stray bits of straw poke through your hair, to say nothing of the sweat shared between your body and Shane’s.  You’re marked up, red in the face and short of breath- and you can’t recall the last time you felt so wonderfully satisfied.  Gazing up at Shane as he regains his bearings- to some measure of success, anyway -he looks about the same as you figure you do.  It’s a cute look on him. 

“Always knew you had that in you somewhere,” you say with a coy, if hazy grin.  

“Did you?” his voice scratches awkwardly in his throat, but he returns your smile, “You’ll have to catch me up, cause apparently you knew where today was going a whole lot better than I did.” 

Perhaps just now remembering that his cock is still inside of you, he carefully pulls out, stifling a groan at that last precious moment of friction.  He removes the filled condom while giving a short, incredulous laugh.

“I mean, you even had this thing on hand.”

“Grabbed it when I went inside for water,” you say with a casual shrug, “Watching you working up a sweat out here got me thinking.” 

Shane repeats that same laugh, rubbing the back of his neck with a hand.

“You’re a weird one, you know that?”

“And you don’t even know how hot you are,” you reply, unshaken. 

“There you go again,” he huffs out as he collapses onto the hay beside you, “Saying stuff that makes me crazy.”

Without a word needed between you, Shane loops an arm around your waist and pulls you on top of him, and you gladly follow.  Evidently, he no longer cares about the scratching of the straw at his back.  You figure it couldn’t compare with the scratches you’d left to linger there, anyway.

“I’ll keep saying it until you believe it,” you lean in, still smiling as you kiss him once more.  At long last, he kisses you back in a way that feels certain and unafraid.  When you draw away, his hand has come to cradle the side of your face, and he looks at you.  Just looks at you.  You can only imagine what he must be thinking, but when he finally breaks the silence, he says,

“Shit, what time is it?” he glances at the door but can’t seem to get his answer from the light peaking through the cracks, “I promised I’d be home for dinner… Not that- I’m not trying to- I- I wish I could stay, honest,” he stammers, and you laugh.

“Shane, it’s fine, I know it’s important.  Why don’t I walk you back?  I can vouch for you.” 

Those dark eyes search your face for a silent moment.  

“You could… stay and help me whip up some dinner for everyone.  If you wanted.  No pressure,” he quickly adds, “I’m not trying to make this more than it is, unless you want to, but this is fine and I won’t push you or anything, it’s just… Jas always likes it when you come over.” He lets the sentence end lamely, his voice flat. 

You can’t help laughing, and you press a brief but tender kiss to his lips.

“That sounds great, Shane.  But we should probably be wearing more clothes and have less hay in our hair, first.”

#shane sdv #shane stardew valley #stardew valley #sdv #shane x reader #stardew valley x reader #stardew valley smut #not sfw #sdv x reader #sdv smut #x reader #stardew valley fic #sdv fic

[gravehags]

our little remedy

Pairing: Aether x f!Reader x Mountain

Rating: Explicit

18+ ONLY MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Tags: threesome, PinV sex, anal sex, weed smoking, ghouls being tender as always, Cumulus and Dew cameos

Words: 2,416

Summary: Two ghouls at once was unprecedented for you. But you love a challenge.

a/n: PART 5 BABY HORNY HOURS ARE NOW the way i would let aether and mountain absolutely destroy me...whew

~~~

“Mm…’Lus…I have kitchen duties.”

The ghoulette smiles against your lips and pushes you further into the doorframe. Clearly she pays your concern no mind as she slides her hand into your hair, claws scratching lightly at your scalp. 

“Not finished with you yet, my love,” she purrs, hand sliding down to cup your ass. A low wolf whistle comes from the hallway and the two of you part, brows furrowed. Dewdrop is leaning against the door opposite Cumulus’, wearing the biggest shit-eating grin you’ve ever seen. Cumulus lets out a little growl that makes your breath hitch.

“We’re busy, fuck off,” she snarls at him, gripping your hips and frowning.

“Oh I know,” he says slyly, “heard you both loud and clear last night. And you didn’t invite me?” His lips slide into a faux-pout and Cumulus looks like she’s going to launch at him. 

“Dew, fuck off,” you say simply in an effort to de-escalate the situation, “and mind your business. ‘Lus, I have to go.” She looks so damn sad, tail flicking lowly behind her. Squeezing her hands you lean over and give her two kisses on her cheek and one achingly sweet one on her plush lips. Dew at least has the decency to look away as you give her a meaningful stare. She sighs and relinquishes your hands.

“If you must,” she says, giving Dew a sideways dirty look.

“Bye, love,” you murmur. “Goodbye, Dewdrop,” you say, brushing his shoulder affectionately as you pass.

You hurry down the hall to make sure you don’t witness any ghoul-on-ghoul violence. It’s still too early in the day for that.

—

A week passes, filled with duties both tedious and enjoyable, and you find yourself heading to the common room on your floor. You’ve earned the ire of your fellow siblings after the invasion of ghouls in the space but quite frankly you couldn’t care less. You walk in and immediately register a conversation.

“I don’t think she can handle it.”

Mountain is sitting on the couch, joint in hand speaking to Aether, who sits in a chair opposite with his feet propped up on an ottoman. You loudly deposit your bag in a chair and sidle over to them.

“Who can’t handle what?” It’s not like you to be this nosy but you and the ghouls had become close over the past few months and they seemed to prefer bluntness. Plopping yourself on the couch next to Mountain, you give them both a look. Mountain takes a deep drag from his joint and passes it to you.

“Can’t handle us,” he says simply, exhaling smoke.

You don’t have to ask for clarification - you’ve picked up on what he means.

“Took Cumulus’ strap,” you say, not without a little pride. Aether grins wickedly and winks at you.

“We heard,” he chuckles, watching you take a hit. “Been thinking about those sweet noises you made that night for days now.”

You cough a little on your exhale, making Mountain smile.Your cheeks are burning from the way they both look at you.

“Do you want it?” Mountain queries, accepting the joint back from you. “Both of us?”

Lust simmers low in your stomach as the weed pulls through your system.

“Yeah,” you breathe, biting your lip. Aether’s eyes fly to where your teeth tug on flesh and you see his fists clench. Mountain stands, positively towering over you and you crane your neck to look up at him. Aether follows suit, looming, and you turn your gaze to him.

Oh absolutely, you think.

As if reading your mind, Aether extends a hand and pulls you off the couch.

“Yours?” he asks Mountain as the three of you walk towards the door.

“Yeah. Bed’s bigger.”

–

Once again you find yourself in the ghoul den, standing at the threshold of Mountain’s room. He’s right - his bed is massive. The room is decorated with crawling vines and beautiful blooms and idly you wonder how he cares for them in such a dark space. Aether slides his hands around your waist from behind you as Mountain closes the door, making you jump a little.

“Easy,” he purrs, leaning forward to inhale deep at the crown of your head. When you turn in his arms to face him he’s gazing down at you with a soft expression, even with his pupils blown. Suddenly gripped with desire you slide your palm along his jaw and raise yourself on tiptoes to capture his lips. You whimper against him as he deepens the kiss, sliding his tongue against yours. As he devours you, he guides you backwards towards the bed, where Mountain is sitting. Upon your approach he stands and you slip from Aether’s grasp to enter his. He’s too tall for you to reach so you grab the front of his shirt, pulling him down to your level. When he slides a hand down to bring your hips against him, you moan at the feeling of his hardened cock resting against you. 

“Beautiful, isn’t she?” Aether asks from behind you as he strips himself. You want to turn to look at him but Mountain grips your chin in his hand, forcing you to look up.

“She’s perfect,” he murmurs. Your flush continues to spread across your body and you’re filled with such emotion not only for the both of them, but for all the ghouls. They’ve been so kind to you, so loving - more so than anyone else you’ve met during your time at the abbey. Mountain must see the tears welling in your eyes because he sits, bringing you back to eye level with him.

“You’re perfect,” he repeats, and Aether echoes him before wrapping his arms around you once more. You’re finally distracted from emotion by the feeling of Aether’s lips on your neck as his hands slip the buttons of your habit loose. Mountain helps his effort, sliding the garment down and off your body until you stand before the both of them in your bra and panties.

“C’mon, Mountain,” Aether says, lips on your shoulder.

“Your turn,” you smile at him as he begins to remove his shirt and pants. As he is occupied with that task, you feel Aether unhook your bra and a shiver runs through you as his large hands slip down your body to remove your underwear. When you’re finally nude, you turn to face him and gasp. He’s gorgeous - big, strong, dusted with hair and his cock juts out proudly. He’s nowhere near as long as Swiss but he’s thick - so thick your body aches at the thought of being filled by him.

“You like it?” he asks, bringing a hand down to idly stroke himself.

“Mmhmm,” you respond, stepping towards him and sliding a hand into the hair on his chest. He purrs contentedly as he moves his hand to your breast, teasing your nipple into hardness. You lean into his touch, thoroughly enjoying the feeling of him fondling you when you realize Mountain has gone untouched. You turn to face him and your jaw hangs open. He’s already reclined on the bed, slowly stroking his (unbelievably big, you think) cock.

“Don’t stop on my account,” he says with a grin as the two of you make your way towards him.

“Didn’t want you to feel neglected,” you say as you kneel on the duvet. Slowly, you climb over him and swing your leg to straddle him. Leaning forward, you kiss him slowly, letting his cock drag between the two of you as you work your mouth over his. When you shift forward to drag him through your folds, you hear Aether moan behind you. You turn to beckon him and he kneels onto the bed behind you, mouthing at your shoulder blade. With every roll of your hips Mountain’s gaze darkens, and he grips you hard.

“Gonna fill you up,” he growls, making a surge of wetness slide out of you. “Both of us.”

Unable to handle the teasing drag of his cock against your clit any longer, you sit precariously up on your knees and take him in hand. You can barely wrap your fist around him and you feel a swoop of anxiety. Mountain seems to sense your nervousness and slides his hands to your waist, gazing up at you. When you position yourself above him, you take a deep breath before slowly lowering yourself on him. The stretch is divine, and you hear yourself whimper as you continue to ease him inside you. You finally take him to the base, and Mountain’s eyes roll back in his head. You’re content to sit there for a moment, simply enjoying the feeling of being full, when you feel Aether behind you sliding his hands up to your breasts.

“Look at you take him,” he breathes, pinching your hardened nipples. “How does it feel?”

Gently, you roll your hips a little and moan at the sensation.

“Good,” you say, head falling back against Aether’s shoulder as you repeat the motion, “so good.”

You lift yourself up enough almost for the entirety of Mountain to slip out of you and then bring yourself down. His hips jerk upwards to hit that beautiful spot inside of you. Slowly, you begin to ride him and he grips your hips, claws digging into you.

“Fuck, that’s it,” Mountain growls, thrusting up into you with every roll of your hips, “just like that.”

Aether continues to play with your tits, breath hot in your ear as you arch backwards against him. When he pulls away for a moment to grab something on the dresser behind him, you whine at the loss. He returns, murmuring sweet nothings in your ear as his hand drifts down your body to rest on your ass. He spreads you open and you lean forward, arching your back. Gently, he brushes his thumb over your asshole and you buck backwards into his touch. You’ve stopped riding Mountain, too distracted by Aether, but Mountain continues to fuck into you at a steady pace. You hear a small pop from behind you and when Aether’s fingers return to brush over your hole, they’re warm and slick. Biting your lip you let him gently probe a finger into you and he coos in your ear.

“Feel good?” he asks, teasing your hole open until he’s knuckle deep.

Too full to think, you nod your head dumbly, pushing your hips back on his hand so his finger is completely inside of you.

“Good girl,” he purrs, making your cunt clench around Mountain, “can you take another?”

Mountain thrusts up particularly hard, causing you to cry out.

“Yes! Please, Aether,”

Slowly, Aether adds a second finger and you moan brokenly. He eases into you, lightly scissoring his fingers and the stretch makes your clit throb. Aether continues like this for several minutes as Mountain steadily thrusts into you. But it’s just not enough.

“Need you,” you whine over your shoulder. “Need your cock, Aether.”

When Aether slides his fingers out of you you let out a pathetic noise, only to have your cunt clench at the sound of Aether slicking his cock up behind you. When he presses the head against your hole, you arch your back into his touch. With a leisurely pace he slides into you and your jaw hangs open as he stretches you. 

“So tight,” Aether hisses. “Isn’t she?”

Mountain grins from beneath you as your eyes roll back. The feeling of both of them inside of you, making you feel so full, practically makes you drool. When Aether begins fucking your ass at an unhurried pace, Mountain joins in. You can barely bring yourself to move, let alone think, as your body hunches over in pleasure. 

“Fuck, love,” Aether groans, as his pace begins to pick up. Mountain matches his speed, making you throw your head back and moan again and again. It’s somehow both too much and not enough as you work their cocks, drinking in the desperate and hungry noises they make.

“Mountain,” you pant as your breasts bounce, slick with sweat. “Aether!”

“Fuck I’m gonna cum,” Mountain says breathlessly. “Don’t stop fucking her.”

Aether’s lips are on your shoulder as he obeys the other ghoul’s command. Mountain’s thrusts become frantic as you continue to ride him, despite the burn in your thighs. When he cums, it’s with a shout and you moan at the feeling of his seed pulsing into you and spilling out. You don’t stop after he’s finished and softening inside you, determined to chase your own high. Aether’s own thrusts are becoming haphazard and he reaches around you to cup your mound, fingers sliding through Mountain’s cum to rub your clit.

“Come on, sweetheart,” Aether pants, “cum on our cocks.”

You whine, desperate to reach your peak and feel Aether finish. All of a sudden, your orgasm hits you like a freight train and you’re crying out over and over as you clench Mountain’s softening cock and Aether’s hard one. It’s exactly what Aether needs to hear because all of a sudden he lets out a broken moan and cums into your hole in drawn out spurts. A moment passes, the only sound in the room being the collective panting of the three of you. When Aether slips himself out, you let out another, far smaller moan at the feeling of his seed sliding out of you and down your cunt to where you’re still joined with Mountain. Gently, Aether urges you off Mountain and picking you up, lays you down on the duvet. You barely register Aether leaving and heading towards the bathroom but when he returns and slips a warm, damp rag between your thighs you make a sweet sound of thanks. Mountain shifts himself over to make room for both you and Aether and you sigh contentedly.

“Well done,” Aether says in your ear.

“Thanks,” you say breathlessly, running your hand over Mountain’s chest. Both ghouls are purring and the sound sets you immediately at ease. Suddenly, you think of something that makes you laugh out loud. Both of them cock their heads at you quizzically and you rub your eyes.

“Dew,” you say, grinning, “Dew said he wanted to watch me take both your cocks. He’s going to be so disappointed he missed it.”

Aether loudly snorts and Mountain rolls his eyes.

“Don’t worry,” Aether grins against your shoulder. “There’s always next time.”

They don’t stop teasing you about your blush for a while.

#mountain x reader #aether x reader #mountain x reader x aether #nameless ghouls #mountain ghoul #aether ghoul #the band ghost #the band ghost fic #rachel writes

[the-kr8tor]

I hope it's not too late to request, but do you think you can do a gardener!reader and hobie helping them collect fruits and veggies from their garden😊

Hello hun! Thank you for the lovely request! It was so adorable and I had so much fun writing it ❤️ hope you like it!

A/N: Last request but definitely not the least 💕

Pairing: Hobie Brown x gn! Reader/ Spider-punk x gn! Reader

Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, FLUFF.

ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ

You try to reach the plump orange on your tiptoes, arms straining to grab the bright fruit. You jump, fingers grazing your target. Your sunhat shields you from the sun, wicker basket at your feet. Huffing, hands on your hips, you wish you had a ladder with you right now, or at least be taller. As if your wish came true you feel yourself rise up from the ground, firm hands gripping your thighs, a familiar head peeking under you.

You yelp, wobbling a bit on Hobie's shoulders, accidentally holding on to his face so you could balance yourself. You can feel him smile under your trembling hand, your left hand covering his eyes.

"I'm going in blind here, love" his voice muffled. He stands up to his full height, carrying you effortlessly, thanks to his Spidey powers. Hobie moves your hands away from his face, holding them in his warm hands instead. "There"

"Hobie! Give me a heads up next time!" You lean down to meet his face, Hobie's upside down grin greets you. Your eyes cross a bit when you stare at him. "Hi"

"Hey" He chuckles, "how's the weather up there?"

"Oh you waited for a long time to finally say that, huh?" You laugh, breath fanning over his face. He can't help but find you adorable, especially in this position, usually he's the one that's upside down.

He can't help himself when he presses a sticky kiss on your lips, you help him by meeting him halfway, leaning down farther. You laugh onto his lips, finding the familiar position of his lips over yours, this time the roles are reversed.

Hobie pulls away, raising his brow questioningly. "What are you laughing at?" He drops one of your hands, putting his palm towards your back so you don't fall over. You squeeze his remaining hand as a thank you.

"Nothin'" you giggle, rubbing the tip of your nose over his, "thank you for being my ladder" you say softly.

"I'm your ladder, pillow, what do you want me to be next?"

"Hmm, my fruit cutter?"

"You haven't even gotten the bloody orange yet" he scrunches his nose, making you press a chaste kiss over where his skin folds.

You quickly go back up, Hobie helps you unfold yourself, gripping your shirt tight so you don't fall too far back. Your lower back aches from the previous position.

"Whew," you exhale "please move closer to it" you tap his cheek, arms outstretched, aiming for the fruit. He steps closer, but it's still not enough to reach the orange "a little further please" you guide him.

He takes two steps, thanks to his large strides, you completely miss the branch, now the orange is right behind you. Hobie cranes his neck up, "you got it?" He sees you try to reach the fruit, but to no avail.

"Nope, you completely missed the mark" you laugh again. You have the sudden urge to grab his hair, like Remy in ratatouille. "Turn around for me, please"

"Only because you asked nicely" he turns around, you get smacked on the forehead by a branch.

"Ow" rubbing your skin.

"You alright?" He asks, chuckling softly, tapping your thighs.

"Yeah, move a step further. Just one step!" You stop him from walking further. He stops, freezing in his tracks. "Right here!" You laugh victoriously, hands encircling the plump fruit, picking it from its branch "Aha!"

"Fuck yeah, good job!" Hobie rubs your knees, looking up at you, your eyes twinkling in the sunlight, your well loved tree providing shade, the shadow of its branches painting you in a pretty portrait. You lean down to peck his sweaty forehead.

"Thank you, you up for more?" How could he say no when you're smiling at him so brightly. He fixes his grip on you, squeezing your things affectionately.

You help each other harvest the oranges from your tree. A few minutes later, your wicker basket is full of sweet oranges ready to cut into.

Hobie crouches down, helping you get off his shoulders. He stands up, you smile at him widely, Hobie mirrors your smile.

"How's your shoulders?" You ask, concerned. You make a mental note to massage him later as a thank you.

"I'm fine, but a slice of orange could make me feel better"

"And here I thought a kiss would suffice" you smirk, twirling an orange in your hand.

"That works too" he answers a little too quickly, making you giggle. Hobie's already leaning towards your face, hands wrapping around your torso, bringing you closer. Your arms instinctively slide over his neck, the orange you're holding rests right on his nape, it slightly rolls around on his skin, relaxing him.

"Oh wait, you have a" you lean away for a bit, grabbing a stray leaf stuck on his hair, "leaf" you show it to him, smiling proudly.

"You got everything?" He bows his head down.

You scan his head for any leaves "yep! Got it all" he leans back up, more than ready to kiss you again.

"C'mere then" he puckers his lips up dramatically.

You make kissing sounds before your lips meet his. He chuckles at your playfulness, you both smile into the kiss.

ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ

Thank you for reading! Please consider reblogging if you enjoyed it ❤️

#request done #hobie brown x reader #spider punk x reader #the kr8tor's creations #spider punk #hobie brown #spider man across the spider verse #x reader #atsv fanfiction #atsv fluff #atsv fanfic #atsv x reader #atsv hobie #hobie brown x you #hobie brown x gn!reader #spider punk x gn! reader #spider punk x you #fanfic #hobie fluff

[munsonkitten]

we can love each other (i’ve been told it’s okay) - chapter 1 (6.8k) - ao3 - explicit

“I’m sick of dating,” Steve declares, a half-finished joint dangling between his fingers, smoke swirling above his head as he exhales. He’s on the floor, Eddie by his side, back against the side of Eddie’s bed. He passes the joint over to his friend and drops his head back to rest against the mattress.

“Oh yeah?” Eddie prompts, bringing the joint to his lips. He turns to look at Steve, blowing smoke in his direction.

Steve waves it away with his hand and nods.

“Boring as hell,” he says, very resolutely. His head lolls back and the sigh he releases is dramatic, long and loud.

“What’s boring about it?” Eddie asks. He offers the joint to Steve but he shakes his head, eyes red around the edges, lips forming a lazy smile.

“Fucking,” Steve says, and Eddie feels like there should be more to that sentence, but apparently there isn’t. Just… Fucking.

“Oh.”

“Mhm,” Steve hums. He reaches over to Eddie’s nightstand where half a beer sits. Steve grabs it and takes a sip, grimacing with it. It’s been there for a few hours. They’ve been here for a few hours. “Fucking is just so… Boring.”

“That can’t be right,” Eddie says skeptically. “What’s… Why is it?”

Steve groans, rubs his face with his hands. “I don’t know, man. I just go on these dates, and they’re all the same, and we go back to my house and I’ll have a girl in my bed, like, I’ll be literally balls deep and I’ll just be bored. Robin says I’m… I’m lost in the monotony of hookup culture because the way I go about it leaves no room for, uh, meaningful relationships or learning what I like? I think that’s what she said.”

“Wise words from Miss Buckley,” Eddie agrees. “Tell me more about this hookup culture.”

“I forget you’re a virgin, man,” Steve says. “You just seem like you get around. I could hook you up with someone. Maybe you’ll have more luck with, um, Stacy…? Than I did last night.”

“Do you not know her name?” Eddie asks, deciding to leave everything else Steve said ignored for the time. He doesn’t need to touch on how wrong Steve is about him, or how Steve really didn’t need to bring up his inexperience. Like, look, it’s not because he can’t find a girl. He could probably find one willing to help him out, but he’s not interested in that.

Seems like Steve’s in the same boat. Which is… interesting.

“No, it’s… definitely Stacy,” Steve says. “Or was it Stephanie? Fuck… Hey, If I were a girl, do you think my mom would’ve named me Stephanie instead?”

That startles a laugh out of Eddie. “I’m not sure, man. You should ask her.”

“Mm, no. Don’t talk to my mom, really,” Steve says with a shrug. “Reminds me. My parents are home tonight. Can I crash here?”

“Yeah, man,” Eddie murmurs. He puts the joint out in the ashtray between them and rests his head back against the bed, mirroring Steve’s position. “You can stay here forever for all I care.”

“Might take you up on that,” Steve mutters.

“Tell me more about this Stacephanie,” Eddie says.

Steve laughs, loud and bubbly, and repeats the mashed-up name a couple of times.

“I don’t know, it’s like,” Steve sighs. “I literally had her on top of me, you know? In my lap, which… Whew, some guys act like it’s the holy grail of sex, you know? Having a girl that’ll ride you into the mattress. Every guy dreams of it, apparently.”

Not me, Eddie thinks.

He hums noncommittally instead of responding.

“She’s on me, I’m in her, right, and I’m just bored. Not really into it. I’m struggling to stay hard, even, like buried fully inside her pussy and it’s just not doing it for me. Which isn’t uncommon,” Steve says with a shrug. “After everything I’ve been through? Not uncommon. Like sex isn’t always the only thing on my mind, like girls aren’t… It, for me. Not when I’m always thinking about a Demogorgon coming through the ceiling or bats tearing apart my body.”

Christ, Eddie thinks.

“Sounds like you just need someone who’s better at taking your mind off things,” Eddie says.

“Probably,” Steve agrees easily. “Probably why I like getting high with you.”

“Huh,” Eddie breathes. He shakes his head. “So she’s on top of you. Are you, uh, sitting up or laying down?”

He doesn’t know why it’s so important, but he wants Steve to keep talking. He wants to understand him a little bit better, maybe see if he can pinpoint where everything is going wrong for him. Right now it’s looking more like Steve’s… Well, he can’t say just yet.

“Sitting against the headboard,” Steve answers. “It’s like… I’ll show you.”

“Okay…?”

And then suddenly he has a lap full of Steve fucking Harrington. Straddling him, knees on either side of his hips, ass resting right over Eddie’s crotch. Eddie’s posture is shit, and he’s a bit shorter than Steve, so Steve fucking Harrington’s chest is just inches from his face. The chest he’s dreamt of burying his face into ever since he saw it bare and hairy that night at Lover’s Lake. Christ. He’s chubbing up faster than he did that night. He needs Steve out of his lap and he needs a cigarette as soon as possible.

“So it’s like this, yeah?” Steve says. “And so, like, as you can see, her tits are right in my face and everything, which I’ve never really understood that much. Boobies shmoobies.”

“Uh huh,” Eddie agrees, feeling a bit dumb. He can’t comprehend what’s happening right now.

“Hands on my hips,” Steve instructs. He wraps his own arms around Eddie’s neck, presses his stomach to Eddie’s chest.

Eddie’s hands fly to Steve’s hips without permission from his brain.

“This is how we were,” Steve says, like this is the most normal thing ever. Like it’s just normal to talk about sex like this and fucking demonstrate it in your boy best friend’s fucking lap. Steve lifts up a bit and drops back down. “Like this.”

He’s moving slowly, out of rhythm, and thank god he’s no longer resting on Eddie’s cock because then he’d know just how much this is fucking turning him on.

“And she’s moaning, and it’s just not fucking doing it for me,” Steve continues. “Like this girl was making these high, breathy, fake sounds. Like ‘ah! Ah! So good! Yeah, yeah! Yes, yes, yes!’ Like bad porno shit that I never really liked much. I always feel like I’d be better off muting that shit or using my own mind to get off. But it’s not like you can mute a real person! It just never does anything for me, real or not, but honestly I prefer when it’s genuine, and this girl was not.”

Eddie wishes he could mute Steve right about now.

“It’s just… Maybe Robin’s right. Monotony,” Steve says, halting his movements. He doesn’t sit down again, thankfully.

“Yeah, for sure,” Eddie nods. “Uh.. Steve?”

“Hm?” Steve hums. He’s looking down at Eddie, eyes half shut, that lazy smile still on his lips.

“Is that… is that all?” Eddie asks.

“No, so,” Steve continues. “I thought, you know, maybe if we switch positions, so I rolled her over onto her back, and I’m, like, ugh, I just need to fucking cum already, so I’m pounding into her, kissing her just to make her stop with the fake moans, and I’m just… bored. I’m bored of it. It’s the same every night. Dinner, fuck, cum, sleep, repeat. What’s the point? I’m bored of boobies! I don’t think I’ve ever not been bored of boobies!”

Hell.

“Are you bored right now?” Eddie asks, walking out on a limb of a tree he knows he shouldn’t even be climbing.

Steve doesn’t answer, just tightens his arms around Eddie, still sitting up on his knees. He’s pressed to Eddie’s body, his… Fuck. His fucking cock is digging into Eddie’s belly, and it could just be because they’re talking about sex, or it could be something else. It could be something else.

He moves away from the bed and rolls them over, laying Steve out on his back beneath him.

“I asked you a question,” Eddie growls, attempting for low and seductive.

Critical miss.

Steve bursts out laughing and pushes him away, sliding out from underneath him. He sits up and reaches for the pack of smokes halfway across the room.

“That was cute, Munson,” Steve giggles, sitting back up straight to pull a cigarette out of the pack. He puts it between his lips and feels around for the lighter until he finds it. “You’re like a kitten trying to be a fuckin’ rottweiler. So cute.”

Eddie lays face down on the ground and huffs.

“I’m not cute,” Eddie mutters.

“Super cute,” Steve tells him. He puts his thumb on Eddie’s bottom lip, and Eddie realizes he’s pouting. He pulls away from Steve. “Anyway… to answer your question, I don’t think I’ve ever been bored with you.”

“Hey Steve?” Eddie asks, slowly. Careful. “Do you ever think… Could it be that you don’t like girls?”

Steve chokes on smoke, coughing and coughing as he holds his chest with one hand. He stubs out the cigarette in the ashtray, violent coughs tearing at his throat. Eddie passes him the warm beer, and Steve takes a large swig of it.

“What?” Steve squeaks when he calms down.

“You’re just sending some signals, man,” Eddie says, his voice straining in his throat. He knows Steve won’t, like, beat him up or anything, but he can’t help but feel nervous over the possibilities of Steve’s reactions.

“Signals…” Steve repeats.

Only minutes ago, Steve had been in his lap, simulating sex and talking about fucking a girl. Hard in his jeans, pressed to Eddie’s abdomen. Talking about how he’s bored of boobies, bored of fucking, bored of dating, but not bored of Eddie. Never bored of Eddie.

And he called him cute on top of all of it.

Signals.

Just enough of them that Eddie pushes himself up into his knees and crawls to Steve. He’s turned on, and he’s desperate, really, he has been for years. Being a twenty-one year old virgin will do that to a guy, sue him. And here he has Steve Harrington, the boy he’s been crushing on since middle school, sending him signals. So. Fuck it.

“Can I, um,” Eddie starts. “I want to try something, and you can, like, totally tell me to fuck off.”

“Okay,” Steve breathes.

Eddie takes a deep breath and then pulls off his shirt, dropping it to the floor beside him. Steve’s eyes are on him, watching his movements, half-lidded but still attentive.

It’s intoxicating to have Steve look at him like this. With something like desire in his eyes. Eddie can see right through him, can see the way Steve’s eyes rove up and down his bare torso, notices the small twitch of his fingers like he wants to touch. Of course, Eddie’s going to let him. How could he not?

He crawls closer, but doesn’t do what he wants to do just yet. He sits on his hands and knees beside Steve, faces just inches apart, waiting. Waiting for Steve to tell him to fuck off, waiting for Steve to push him away and jump to his feet. Waiting for Steve to leave.

It doesn’t happen. Steve just watches him and Eddie takes another deep breath and moves up on his knees, grabbing Steve gently by the shoulders. He lifts one leg and slowly moves it over Steve’s legs, lowers it down to the floor, the inside of his knees pressed to Steve’s thigh.

Immediately, Steve’s hands go to Eddie’s hips. Big, gentle hands, lightly squeezing the softness of Eddie’s body.

“Is this okay?” Eddie asks, looking down at Steve’s face. He moves his hands from Steve’s shoulder, slides them up his neck and cups his jaw.

Steve tilts his head up and nods, his lips parted and his eyes slowly blinking. Comfortable.

Eddie bows his head and moves slowly, so, so slowly. He doesn’t know where the line is going to be drawn, and he’s scared to find out, but he needs to. He needs to find out and he needs Steve to find out, too.

Their lips meet in the softest little touch, and Eddie’s kissed a handful of boys, and at least half of them punched him in the face and called him slurs, but a few of them didn’t. None of them were ever sweet, though. Not like Steve, who kisses him so sweet it’s making Eddie melt inside, ooey and gooey and so fucking warm.

One of Steve’s hands shifts, moves up until his thumb grazes across Eddie’s only nipple, shifts the barbell running horizontally through the center of it. Eddie whines in his throat and Steve’s hand drops. Back down to his hip, back where it’s safe.

That’s okay. Baby steps.

Steve pulls back, warm puffs of breath coming rapidly from his parted lips. He looks like he’s about to run, he looks like he’s about to throw Eddie on the ground and fuck him silly, he looks wild and he looks terrified. Eddie presses a soft kiss to his forehead, right between his brows, smoothing away the lines of perpetual worry there.

“Are you bored now?” Eddie whispers, slowly moving his thumbs back and forth on Steve’s cheeks.

Steve shudders, his hands tightening on Eddie’s hips.

They both know it’s not about boredom, not about just a general disinterest in the act of sex itself. Steve can’t deny it, but Eddie knows he wants to. He’s been told his entire life this is wrong, that people like this are broken and disgusting and all around vile. And now he’s being faced with the idea that he’s one of them. Eddie gets it. He really gets it.

Steve shakes his head no.

“What do you think that means?” Eddie asks softly because Steve needs softness wrapped around the blunt questions and realizations. He needs the hard questions, but he needs comfort, too.

“I don’t know,” Steve whispers.

“That’s okay, baby,” Eddie murmurs.

Steve reacts like he’s been punched in the gut, breath rushing out of him in a huge gust, his entire body flinching. Eddie thinks he made a mistake there — that maybe a kiss is fine, but the line is drawn at petnames — and that he’s about to be thrown off Steve and be called a freak, or a fag, or get his teeth pounded in. It doesn’t happen.

It doesn’t happen.

Instead Steve closes his eyes and drops his head forward, resting his forehead against Eddie’s clavicle. He’s panting, his arms are sliding around Eddie and wrapping around his waist, tugging him in, closer, closer, closer.

“I don’t,” Steve gasps, shaking apart beneath Eddie. “I don’t know what’s happening.”

“Hey, hey,” Eddie soothes, running his fingers through Steve’s hair. “Hey, it’s okay.”

“Why are you doing this?” Steve asks.

“Do you want me to stop?” Eddie asks. “We don’t have to do this.”

Steve shakes his head and tightens his arms around Eddie’s waist.

“Just… Why?” He sounds so desperate, so unsure and insecure.

Eddie’s heart aches.

“Steve,” Eddie murmurs. “Tell me what’s going through your head.”

“I just don’t get it,” Steve chokes, so much emotion building up in his throat that Eddie just wants to soothe it all away, wants to kiss his neck until the feeling recedes and Steve can breathe again. “Why do this? Why… Why would you want to? Why would you want me to, to feel like this toward you, Eddie? I don’t, I don’t—”

“What?”

“You can’t want this! You don’t — you don’t know. You don’t know!” Steve cries, shaking, trembling, clutching Eddie so tight it hurts. He whispers, “You don’t know what’s going through my head. Every single time I’m with you. You’d think I’m a freak if you did.”

“Hey, man,” Eddie says. “You’re talking to the freak, you know that, right? Didn’t get that name for nothing. I kissed you first. I’m sitting here in your lap, Steve. It’s not like you, like, made me do any of this, right?”

Steve lifts his head, and his eyes are so red, wet with unshed tears. He sniffles, drawing snot far back into his head in a way that sounds painful. Eddie can’t help but laugh, cupping Steve’s cheeks and running his thumbs just beneath his eyes.

“It’s okay,” Eddie tells him. “I know you’ve been told it’s not, but it is. It’s okay that we feel these things. It’s okay to want like this.”

“I’m scared,” Steve whispers, a secret shared between them in the safety of Eddie’s bedroom. Something Steve has never told a soul, always the bravest of the bunch, always the first to run into battle. Eddie knows how big this is, he knows how much care he needs to handle Steve with right now. He knows he’s been given a gift to be let into Steve’s life like this, he knows it’s a privilege.

“You don’t have to be scared of me,” Eddie tells him.

“Okay,” Steve whispers. He sounds unsure, he looks unsure. Steve’s always scared, even if he won’t admit it. Why would this be any different?

“I promise,” Eddie insists. “Baby, I promise.”

Steve inhales sharply and nods quickly. He buries his face in Eddie’s collarbone again. “Okay. Okay.”

“Okay,” Eddie breathes.

“I like when you call me that,” Steve says, oh so softly into Eddie’s skin. His lips press to Eddie’s shoulder, just a breath of a kiss. “No one ever does.”

“No?” Eddie kisses the top of Steve’s head. “I can call you that. I can call you whatever you want, baby.”

“And… Can I? Call you that, too?” Steve asks.

Eddie feels like he might die. “Yeah, of course, Stevie.”

“Eddie,” Steve whispers.

“Hm?”

“I… I want you,” Steve says. “Like, not just… Not just in a sex way. Just… I want to be around you, like, all the time. I want more and more of you, and I’m terrified I’m going to ask for too much. I always, always ask for too much.”

“I have a lot to give,” Eddie counters.

“You don’t get it,” Steve says. He lets go of Eddie’s waist, and moves him, so gently, off of his lap. He pushes himself up to his feet and crosses the room to lean against Eddie’s dresser. “You don’t get it, Eddie. I’m too much. For everyone.”

“Not for me,” Eddie whispers. “Never for me.”

Steve is trembling on the other side of the room, and Eddie pushes himself up to his feet. He doesn’t move any closer, unsure if he finally crossed the line, or not. Unsure if Steve moving away means he doesn’t want any more contact or if he just thinks he doesn’t deserve it.

“I’m going to get some water,” Eddie tells him.

He just needs a second, and he thinks Steve might need a few himself.

Wayne is sitting in the living room, a cigarette lit in one hand and the TV remote in the other. He sees Eddie and sets the remote down, stands up and wanders into the kitchen. He leans against the counter as he smokes.

“You boys okay?” he asks as Eddie fills a mug with water.

“Yeah,” Eddie answers, staring down into the sink. “Fine.”

“Heard some yellin, so figured I’d ask.”

“Just, ah, boys being boys, and all that,” Eddie says. He grabs another mug and fills that too, sets them both down on the counter beside the sink, and turns around to look at Wayne.

“You’re being safe, right?”

“It’s not like that,” Eddie mutters.

“Well,” Wayne sighs. “When it does get like that, you better be using protection. I’m not losing you.”

“Yeah, Wayne, course,” Eddie says.

Not like he and Steve haven’t bled into each other’s open wounds on multiple occasions. What, with the world ending three times before they finally managed to drive the proverbial final stake through Vecna’s heart. He doesn’t say that to Wayne.

“I’m gonna, uh,” Eddie says, picking up both mugs and nodding toward his room.

“Alright, alright,” Wayne says, waving him off. “Just keep it down. I’m gonna be hittin’ the sack pretty soon here.”

“Okay, Wayne. Goodnight, then,” Eddie tells him. “Love you.”

“Love you, too, Ed, now get the hell outta here.”

Steve’s laying on his bed when he gets back, flat on his back and staring up at the ceiling. He’s taken off his jeans, swapped them for a pair of shorts he leaves in Eddie’s dresser. He’s taken off his shirt, too, scar-ridden torso bare. Eddie realizes he’s still shirtless too. That must have been why Wayne jumped to conclusions. He realizes now how he must have looked.

“Hey,” Steve says, turning his head on the pillow to look over at Eddie. “You just gonna stand there?”

Eddie unsticks his feet from the floor and crosses the room. He sets one mug down on his nightstand and passes the other to Steve. Steve sits up, holding the mug between both of his hands, and drinks it all in one go.

“Thanks,” he says. He licks his lips a few times. “Mouth is dry.”

“That is a thing that happens, yes,” Eddie says a bit awkwardly.

He stands there, at the edge of the bed. He has no idea what to do, not anymore. They crossed into a territory that Eddie wasn’t actually prepared to cross into. He didn't have a plan going into it, and he still doesn’t. He doesn’t know what he expected, really. He should have known he wasn’t going to push Steve into having huge revelations and immediately get laid right after.

“Will you just come here, man?” Steve asks after a minute, his voice so impatient, so fucking bitchy. Classic Steve.

“Um.”

“Dude,” Steve huffs. “Get in your jammies and get in bed. I’m tired.”

Eddie’s jammies are just his boxers, and Steve knows that. He knows that, and Steve is only wearing the tiniest pair of shorts, and a pair of socks, and he’s laying in Eddie’s bed. Usually Steve takes the floor when he sleeps over. The bed isn’t really that big, and they’d have to sleep really close to each other. It’s not like Steve’s bed at his house, that they share with a foot of space between their bodies.

He kicks off his jeans and goes back over to the door to turn off his light. Steve switches on the lamp on the nightstand so Eddie can see, and he lays there, propped up on one elbow and bathed in soft orange light. His face is so beautiful, soft and open, just waiting for Eddie to come closer.

So he does.

He crosses the room and climbs into bed beside Steve. He allows himself a second to let his eyes wander, moving up Steve’s bare torso, over pink scars and thick, dark hair. A trail of the hair goes down into his waistband and Eddie wants to bury his face into it, rub his nose against the hair, and move lower even, beneath the fabric of his shorts, beneath his underwear. He wants.

“C’mere baby,” Steve says, opening his arms up.

Oh.

Eddie falls right into them, lays his head on Steve’s chest like he’s wanted to do for months. Wraps an arm around his waist like he’s dreamt of for ages. Steve’s arms encircle his body, tugging him close.

“I made things weird tonight,” Steve says after a minute. “I don’t know what I was thinking. Fucking grinding on you like that while talking about whatsername.”

“It’s… Steve, that was fine,” Eddie says. And he means it, too. “It was hot, actually. I just… I knew you were confused, and dealing with something, and I don’t know, just thought maybe it was time to address that. If we were gonna be doing things like that.”

Steve hums in thought. “I just felt this… This burning need to be close to you, and I just couldn’t resist, and I thought, maybe if we were talking about girls, it wouldn’t be, um… gay.”

“I know,” Eddie whispers. “I know, Stevie. I just… I think you needed to come to the realization or it would eat you alive. I couldn’t stand to hear you talk like that, like nothing is good for you anymore. Couldn’t stand to just listen if I could do something about it.”

“I’ve been thinking things and getting really upset with myself,” Steve whispers. “Things about you.”

“That’s a relief, actually,” Eddie tells him. “I think about you, too. Every time you say you’ve got a date, I wonder what it would be like if that date were me. I lay in bed at night and just… Just wondering what it would be like to be her. To have your hands on me, to, uh, to feel you in me the way you’ve been in them. Um. So if you’re upset with yourself for thinking about me, or if you’re worried about what I’d think about all of that, just… Well, I’m thinking about you.”

“I’d like all that,” Steve whispers. “I think I’d… I think I’d like to take you out on a date. I think I’d like to bring you back home after having dinner or seeing a movie together.”

“Oh yeah? It wouldn’t be too boring for you?” Eddie teases.

Steve laughs, his chest rising and falling beneath Eddie’s cheek. He lifts a hand and runs a hand through Eddie’s hair, making him shiver against Steve’s body.

“Are we doing this?” Steve asks.

“Depends what this is,” Eddie murmurs, tracing the scars on Steve’s stomach with his finger. “What do you want?”

“I think I want to kiss you,” Steve says. “I think I want to sleep with you in my arms, and I think I want to stick around when we wake up instead of sneaking out in the early hours. I don’t want this to be like my hookups. I… You’re my best friend, Eddie.”

“I thought that title belonged to Robin.”

“Robin’s on a level that best friend can’t even compete with. She’s my other half. You know that.”

He slides out from under Eddie and rolls onto his side, guiding Eddie up the bed with a gentle hand beneath his chin.

“It’s hard for me,” Steve starts, eyes meeting Eddie’s in the orange glow of the lamp, gold flecks dancing in rich brown. He offers him a smile tinged with sadness. “It’s hard for me to accept that I’m allowed to have this. And it’s not gonna be easy for me any time soon, I don’t think. Eddie, I’m… really messed up. Like, extremely fucked up, a total mess, but… but I want to try. I want to try to be happy.”

“You deserve to be,” Eddie whispers.

“A lot of people have been saying that to me,” Steve says. “And I’m gonna try to believe it. I think… I think you’ll help just by existing. You make me feel things I haven’t felt in a long time. Maybe ever.”

Overcome with so much emotion, Eddie feels like he might start to cry. He lifts a hand to cup Steve’s jaw, running his thumb over a scar that runs down his cheek and toward his lip. It’s faint now, but Eddie remembers when it happened, how scared he had been because Steve’s face was cut open, he was losing so much blood, and Vecna was still alive, still hurling objects at them, still throwing their bodies through the air, still controlling an army of ravenous beasts.

He feels like he hasn’t left Steve’s side since.

“I think I’d really like that kiss you mentioned,” Eddie whispers, voice catching in his throat, so tight, trapping his words in his chest with his aching heart.

This one is just as sweet as the first, Steve cradling his cheeks with so much care, like Eddie is something fragile, something precious. Their lips move against each other, soft caresses and hesitant presses, and Eddie darts his tongue out and pulls it back in, far too shy to take the lead here. He’s never been treated this way before and he doesn’t know how to handle it. He’s only ever known rough kisses with too much teeth and greedy hands that he pushed away before they could touch him in ways he didn’t want.

He’s only ever wanted sweetness, and now he has it in his hands in the form of Steve Harrington. He has kisses that make him feel important in ways no one has ever shown him, he has soft hands, moving slow as molasses over his overheated skin.

A quiet gasp falls from his lips as he’s hit with something right in the chest, and it feels like the realization that caused it is captured and swallowed by Steve’s mouth, held safe inside him, right in his own chest beside his heart and nestled between his lungs. It feels tangible, this realization, it feels real, as he visualizes it and he thinks Steve just understands somehow, without words. He must understand because he pulls back and looks at Eddie with his soft eyes and dives back in for another kiss, needier but no less sweet than the last. The realization, safe between them, with no words needed to understand.

The realization that he’s in love with Steve Harrington, and has been since the day they first locked eyes in that boat house and all he saw was understanding and a hint of pleading, a hint of fear, but mostly just understanding and acceptance and comfort projected toward Eddie. The look in his eyes, even as Eddie held a broken bottle to his throat and threatened without words to cut him, that said you’re safe, and I know you’re scared, but I am not here to hurt you. You’re safe and I get it, and I won’t hold any of this against you. Always safe with Steve. Always.

“Steve,” he pants as he pulls back to take a breath. He knows he can’t say it. He knows, even if Steve understands, even if Steve already knows, that it would be too much, too soon. Steve’s just had his life turned upside down. He’s just started coming to terms with this piece of himself, and that piece is fragile, and he’ll never forgive himself if he says too much too soon and causes Steve to break.

“I know,” Steve whispers.

“Okay,” Eddie breathes. He kisses Steve again just because he can. He can and that’s something he’s always dreamed of, but never dreamed of it actually happening.

Steve places a hand on Eddie’s hip and draws him in closer. The fronts of their bodies are flush, their twin scars lining up like a puzzle coming together. A hand works its way into Eddie’s hair, tangles gentle as fingertips trail across his scalp. He shudders, whines into the kiss because he can’t help it. He can’t help the feelings rolling in on him, pulling him under and drowning him in the warm sensation of Steve against him. His scalp tingles, alive with the touch, and Eddie is so, so touch-starved. He has to be if just a little hair touching is making him feel so unbelievably wired.

He’s going to lose his goddamn mind.

Steve nips at his bottom lip and Eddie realizes he hasn’t been kissing back. Just laying there with his lips parted, unmoving, his eyes closed. Just feeling.

“Mm, sorry,” Eddie murmurs, blinking his eyes open.

“Where’d you go?” Steve asks, moving his hand out of Eddie’s hair and to his face.

“Just feels good,” Eddie admits. “I like it when you touch me.”

“Has anyone ever touched you, baby?” Steve asks.

“Not like this,” Eddie murmurs, eyes fluttering shut again. He’s tired, and he’s so content. “Not so sweetly.”

“You ever been kissed?” Steve asks.

“Sure,” Eddie whispers. “Managed to kiss a coupla boys behind the bleachers just like anyone else. Only got my teeth knocked in by a few of them.”

Steve makes a noise in the back of his throat that Eddie can only describe as a pained surprise. Lips cover his again, uncoordinated in that needy way that makes it difficult to have control, but soft and sure. Arms encircle him as he lazily kisses back, and he feels so safe in Steve’s arms.

Always so safe with Steve.

“You didn’t deserve that,” Steve says, firm in his ear. “If I knew who, Eddie, I would… Fuck, they… I…”

His voice is shaking now, his hands trembling where they rest on Eddie’s body. The mood is shifting, and Eddie knows he’s not gonna be able to fall asleep any time soon. This is the line, he thinks. This is the part where Steve realizes what this entails, what being gay, what being with Eddie, is gonna mean.

Eddie presses a kiss to Steve’s jaw, trying to soothe him, trying to bring them back to the softness and warmth from just a few seconds ago. He shouldn’t have said anything, but he knows he can’t keep this stuff a secret, either.

“It’s in the past. I’m okay,” Eddie whispers.

“Was it anyone I was friends with?” Steve asks. Eddie knows he has to know, and he knows he’s going to apologize when the answer comes, and that’s not Steve’s responsibility. He doesn’t need to be sorry for the things he didn’t do.

Eddie wants to lie, just so Steve can save his apologies for something that matters, just so the conversation can end and they can go back to kissing, or go to sleep. He can’t lie, though. Not to Steve, not about this.

“Yeah. One of them,” Eddie tells him after a second. “But you’re not anymore. And you’re not him, so don’t…”

“Don’t what?” Steve asks.

“Don’t apologize,” Eddie says. “Don’t convince yourself it’s your fault. I know you, Steve. I know you, and it’s not your fault.”

“I never stopped any of them,” Steve says. “I never told them to, to be nice, or to stop picking on people. I… What if I encouraged it? What if letting them go unchecked… What if that’s why?”

“Stop,” Eddie says. “Bad people will do bad things whether they have permission or not. It’s not your fault. You got there, you changed, you dropped them. You did, Steve. You’re not that guy anymore.”

“Just because…” Steve takes a shaky breath. “Just because I’m gay now?”

“No, Steve,” Eddie whispers. “Maybe that has something to do with it, maybe it helps you empathize with people, but that’s not it. You show it every day just by not being that guy. You’ve apologized for everything, you’ve befriended me and Robin. No one’s told you to do that. You did it despite all the hate that has been drilled into you by your parents and by this town. You’re good, Steve. You’re good.”

“Is it enough?” Steve asks. “Is having gay friends, being gay, is that enough to undo the damage I’ve caused?”

“It is for me,” Eddie whispers. “It’s enough for me.”

“How? You got hurt and I could’ve stopped it.”

“Steve, you didn’t do anything,” Eddie reiterates. “Did you know one of your friends was secretly gay? That he wanted to experiment and then got scared when he heard a noise, and called me a fag before hitting me? Did you know?”

“No,” Steve whispers.

“Then how could you have known to stop it? You couldn’t be everywhere at once, Steve. You couldn’t control those people just by telling them to be nice, or whatever.”

“I feel like I’m not allowed to be gay,” Steve whispers. “Because I used to think… Used to think bad things. I don’t deserve to be…”

“It doesn’t work that way,” Eddie murmurs. “I think bad things, too. I still do sometimes. It’s not easy being someone who people hate. Sometimes the things they say sneak in and take hold, and we convince ourselves they’re right when they’re not. You’re good, Steve. And you deserve to know who you are and you deserve to be comfortable in that knowledge.”

Steve opens his mouth to say something, but it gets caught on a yawn. Eddie yawns in response, his jaw nearly popping out of its socket with the force of it.

“C’mon,” Eddie murmurs, reaching over to switch his lamp off. “Let’s get some sleep.”

There’s no response at first, like Steve doesn’t want to agree, but then Eddie sees him nod in the dark, sees his eyes flutter shut and open slowly again as he does. He rolls over, back to Eddie, but he pulls Eddie along with him by his hand, pulling Eddie until his chest is flush to Steve’s back.

Eddie hums happily into the back of Steve’s neck and tightens his arm, pulling Steve back into his chest, slotting their legs together.

“Night, Stevie,” Eddie whispers.

“Night.”

Eddie wakes slowly, the early morning sun seeping in through his blinds and casting lines of orange light over the bedroom. Steve is plastered to his back now, snoring quietly into his ear, his arm and leg thrown haphazardly over Eddie’s body.

It’s been a long time since he’s slept so well, and woken up so peacefully. No nightmares jolting him awake in a cold sweat, no alarm blaring in his ear, no phone ringing with a child on the other end demanding he drive them somewhere.

He doesn’t know if something woke him or not, but it’s far too early to be awake. His alarm clock says it’s just past seven. He pulls the blankets up higher over him and Steve, and snuggles back into Steve’s chest.

“‘s good,” Steve murmurs into his hair. He rolls his hips forward, pressing against the small of Eddie’s back, and oh.

Eddie pushes back, earning a sleepy groan from Steve.

“You awake?” Eddie whispers.

“Mhm,” Steve hums. He rolls his hips forward again, his dick poking Eddie in the back. “Morning.”

“Whatcha doin’ back there, sweetheart?” Eddie teases.

Steve gasps, a sharp intake of breath, and grinds himself forward again. His hips are twitching forward in tiny circular motions, rubbing himself against Eddie’s back and gasping and panting into his hair.

Arousal spreads through Eddie’s entire body, hot and tingling. His cock twitches in his boxers and he wants to reach inside them and take himself in his hand. He thinks he’s been half hard for twelve hours now, since Steve first sat in his lap, but it hits him hard that this is all happening too fast, too soon.

“Steve,” Eddie says, pulling himself away.

A whiny protest falls from Steve’s lips, and Eddie rolls over and smiles at him, cupping one cheek with his hand.

“Let’s pull the brakes,” Eddie says softly. “I don’t think I’m ready for more. Not this morning.”

And it’s not that he’s not ready. Hell, he’s been ready for years. He would have jumped into bed with the first person who showed him kindness, but it just so happens that person didn’t come along until now.

It’s more that Steve isn’t ready, but Eddie won’t tell him that. He won’t tell him that he’s scared Steve is gonna get off with a boy for the first time and have some sort of crisis, worse than what’s already happening. He won’t tell Steve he’s the scared one now, too. Scared that one wrong move, one step too far will break them before they’ve even had a chance.

“Okay,” Steve breathes. He nods, squeezing his eyes shut. He takes a deep breath, his bare chest rising and falling slow and controlled. “Okay, I think that’s a good idea.”

“Yeah?”

Steve nods again. “Can I hold you, though?”

“Yeah, baby,” Eddie smiles. “Yeah. Of course.”

Steve pulls him close, their fronts pressed together. Both of them are still hard, cocks trapped between their stomachs, but neither one of them moves, neither one of them tries for any friction. They don’t acknowledge it, they just lay together and wait it out.

With their arms wrapped around each other, they try to drift back off. As Eddie lays there, face tucked into Steve’s neck, he just hopes that Steve doesn’t find a reason to freak out and run. He doesn’t think he could handle it if he lost him.

He knows they need to take things so slowly, feeling things out and toeing the ever-moving line, but never stepping over it outright.

That’s all okay for now.

It has to be.

Read chapter two on ao3

#this is chapter 1 so if you go to ao3 click on to chapter 2 #steddie #steddie smut #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddie fic #my fics #steve/eddie #stranger things #gay steve harrington

[mrs-gucci]

Autopilot

Commander Mills x copilot!female Reader

whew, it’s been so long since I’ve written anything! it’s nice to dust off the old skills and write some steamy smut for the newest (and one of the sexiest!) Adam characters. I missed writing, so it’s really nice to be back :)

(also, two fics in one day?!?! crazy!!)

warnings. SMUT (18+ ONLY), possible 65 movie spoilers (but not anything important), oral sex (m receiving), oh so much dirty talk, unprotected sex, p in v, creampie.

word count: 896

summary~ Instead of getting some sleep, you and Mills have other ideas for the peaceful autopilot period.

** CLICKING “KEEP READING” MEANS YOU UNDERSTAND & ACKNOWLEDGE ALL OF THE WARNINGS LISTED ABOVE AND ARE OVER THE AGE OF 18. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK, YOUR CONTENT CONSUMPTION IS YOUR RESPONSIBILITY. MINORS DNI. **

The ship hums smoothly as it cuts across the deep void of space. All the passengers are safely contained in their cryogenic pods, so the ship is quiet, almost unnervingly so.

Well, it was quiet. Not so much anymore.

Mills let out a soft groan as your lips wrapped around the head of his hardened shaft, giving it a little suck and running your tongue over him. His head tilts back while his hands smooth over your skull, gripping the back of your hair gently.

One advantage of being in a ship with no conscious passengers is that there’s no need to hold anything back. You two have already done this several times and damn, it feels good to let go. 

“Shit,” he grunts, hips lifting slightly off the small cot. “That’s good, right there...mmm.”

It hasn’t taken you long to figure out how to please the Commander. He really just needs to destress, to take his mind off things. Most of the time he wanted to be in control, and you’re more than okay with that, but you definitely enjoy moments like these too.

You hum, taking more and more of him into your mouth until you can’t fit anymore. He lets out a gruff grunt, licking his lips and rubbing your head while you move up and down.

“God you’re good at this,” he breathes, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Haven’t had my dick sucked like this in a long fucking time, sweetheart.”

“Mm — well as your copilot, my job is to assist you throughout this mission, so I’m more than happy to help however I can.”

Mills chuckles and leans back a bit, watching you as you pleasure him with your mouth. A few breathy curses pass through his lips, growing in frequency as his orgasm builds.

Just before you bring him to climax, he pushes you off gently, catching his breath and recomposing himself. His eyes don’t leave yours, not even when he suddenly lunges forward and tosses you on the bed before flipping you over onto your stomach. His large arm wraps around your middle and yanks you up onto all fours, pressing your body flush against his.

His hips press forward, hardened length pushing up against your backside while his lips hover next to your ear.

“I can’t wait to get inside this pussy of yours,” he purrs, pushing down your pants while still continuing to grind himself on you. “You always take me so well, mm, I love fucking your brains out. Are you gonna stay nice and still for me, gonna let me fuck you stupid until I fill your little hole?”

You let out a pathetic whimper at his words, a plague of goosebumps spreading to your arms and down your legs. He smirks, teasing the skin of your neck with his scratchy beard as he frees his thick, lengthy arousal and lines up with your entrance.

He notches in a bit, allowing you a taste of what’s to come before pushing all the way in, forcing you open around him. You moan softly, shuddering with lust. His breathing is heavy in your ear, soft grunts and growls slowly melting your already muddy brain. Sex with Mills always essentially wipes your mind, only able to think about him and feel his body as it combines with yours over and over again. 

“Fuck...s-so fuckin’ tight...” Mills groans in your ear, exhaling shakily. “How are you still this t-tight after I’ve pounded you so many fffuuucking times? Can’t get enough of my big cock, is that it?”

You nod quickly. “There’s n-no such thing as too much of a good thing.”

He laughs at that, giving your ass a playful but firm smack. Your walls flutter and clench around his cock, drawing a rare deep, throaty moan from the Commander.

“Atta girl, make me cum,” he says, panting against your neck. “Make me give you my load, sweetheart.”

Hearing the Commander absolutely lose his usual uptight and composed demeanor is more erotic than anything in the whole galaxy. He’s surrendering, letting himself be taken over by the pleasure building inside his body and god, just that sight alone could make you cum.

“Ohh fuuuuck, Mills! Fuck m-me, mmm, keep going!”

His hips quicken their pace, causing his length to start hitting that sensitive spot on your walls. You moan loudly, jaw slacking as your orgasm builds rapidly.

One, two, three more thrusts and his hips are slammed up against your backside, deep moans and breaths echoing in your ear as he spills inside of you.

“Mmm, mmm, f-fuck…”

Your eyes roll back in your head at the feeling of his warmness painting your insides. But just as your orgasm begins to fade, he wraps his arm around and runs his fingers over your clit, causing your hips to rut forward at the contact.

“Now it’s your turn,” he says, nipping at your neck. “Show me what you’ve got, sweetheart.”

“O-Oh fuck—“

Mills’ fingers suddenly move at what feels like lightening speed and it sends you right over the edge, drawing a soft cry from your lips as your insides spark and buzz with orgasm.

“F-Fuck!”

Suddenly, a loud crash booms around you and the ship lurches, vibrating with impact. You both look at each other for a moment before rushing to get re-dressed.

****

send me your Mills thoughts!

Mills taglist: @safarigirlsp @candycanes19 @clydesfavoritegirl @holacherrycola90 @vedavan​ 

(let me know if you wanna be tagged in my Mills works by either commenting on this post or sending me a message in my inbox!)

#mrs-gucci #65movie #65 movie #commander mills #mills #mills x reader #mills smut #commander mills smut #commander mills x reader #female reader #adam driver #adam driver fanfiction #adam driver smut #adcu fanfiction #adcu #adam driver character

[befuddled-calico-whump]

WAIT continuing the caretaking thought. putting ander with jer or benji!!! maybe through some anon magic they rescue him from vic‘s training……

How could he look so small?

Well, Sahota was usually small, at least in comparison to Jericho, but he carried himself with an air of power and confidence that had the crew looking past his lean frame.

This Sahota didn't have any of that. He was younger, somehow, so much younger. His hair was longer and his face was softer and his expression was full of fear, but it was unmistakeably him. Same eyes. Same scar running from top to bottom lip, though it looked fresher here.

It seemed impossible. Jer had just seen Sahota that morning at breakfast, where he'd instructed the crew to self-train for the rest of the day.

"Vic and I will be out. Don't make any trouble."

But impossible or not, the terrified kid in front of him was very much real. He was partially hidden by a weight rack, his back flush with the wall as he stared up at Jericho, almost like he couldn't believe what he was seeing.

Jer couldn't blame him. Whether he was here through dimension magic, or time travel, or whatever, that didn't matter right now. He'd been somehow displaced, and didn't seem to know what to do about it. He knelt on the ground, holding up both hands.

"Hey..." he called out softly. "Are you alright? Can you come out?"

Sahota didn't move. Jericho inched forwards, and the kid flinched back.

"I... Please. I'm tired. I... I can't do this again. Please, j-just stay back."

Again? Jericho nodded, scooting back to where he'd started.

"Okay," he said, swallowing. "I'm not going to hurt you. I'm just trying to figure out what's going on. Do you remember how you got here?"

Sahota shook his head. Okay, that made two of them.

"Are you hurt at all?"

That didn't get an answer. The kid dropped his gaze, shoulders bunching up defensively.

"Who are you?" he said after a moment. "Why are you here?"

"My name's Jericho. I'm here to train for a mission." With you. Older you. He left that part out. One thing at a time. "Do you live here?"

"Yeah." There was another silence between them. "Did... Did Shepard bring you here?"

Shepard. Wasn't that Vic's last name? "Uh, yeah. He did."

That did not have the intended effect. Sahota seemed to shrink back further, eyes darting around like he was searching for an escape. "Please," he choked out. "H-he said I could have a break, he said---"

"Hey, hey, it's okay. I'm not doing anything. I won't even move if you don't want me to, I..." he exhaled. "I'm here to help. I don't know what's going on, but I want to help you. Okay?"

He wasn't sure he'd get an answer, but after a long pause, he heard a small okay.

Whew. Now what? What could he even do about this? He didn't have the power to send him back to wherever he came from. And why was he so afraid? He already knew Vic, he already seemed to live here. The only new factor was Jericho, and the kid was acting like he was a trap ready to be sprung. And the fact that he'd dodged the question about being hurt...

"Hey. Do you mind coming out here? I won't touch you or anything, I just want to make sure you're not injured."

He was once again met with a long silence, but after a moment, Sahota began to crawl out from behind the weight rack. Almost right away, Jericho's gaze landed on the bruise on his jaw, then trailed just below that, to the faint purples that ringed his throat.

More than just the visible wounds, he moved like he was in pain. Stiff and stilted and slow.

"What happened?" he murmured. He'd seen his Sahota banged up before, but it was so much more jarring to see it on this younger version.

The kid froze, wincing as he lowered himself into a seated position. "There... there was a break in."

Maybe that was why he was so jumpy. It made sense, especially if it was recent enough that he was still sporting injuries from it.

"Well, I can promise you I didn't break in," Jericho said lightly. "Vic... uh, Shepard invited me for my computer skills."

Sahota nodded, uncertainty on his face. "And you're not here for me at all?"

Back to that. What did it mean? Something in the way he said it was concerning, but instead of questioning it, Jer only shook his head. "I'm not. I didn't even know you'd be here."

He seemed to relax a little at that. "Okay."

One step in the right direction. Jer held out a hand, careful not to move too quickly.

"Want help getting somewhere comfier? Looks like you need some rest."

Sahota stared at his open palm. He didn't move to take it.

"We can stay here too, if you'd rather," Jericho offered. It wasn't a permanent solution. They couldn't stay in the gym forever, and this Sahota would eventually have to be introduced to the idea that he'd been displaced, either temporally or dimensionally. But... baby steps.

"If I come with you... what happens?"

Well, hopefully you take a nap. Maybe get an ice pack for those bruises. But Jer only shrugged. "I can probably make you some hot chocolate? Not sure if Vi-Shepard has all the ingredients, but I'll figure something out."

Tentatively, Sahota placed his hand in Jericho's. "Okay."

Whew. Another step. He stood slowly, letting Sahota put as much weight as he needed to on Jericho as he got to his feet.

"You can lean on me if you need to." He'd almost prefer to carry him, but he didn't want to overwhelm the kid. Sahota gave a short nod, but stayed an arm's length away, one hand wrapped around the crook of Jericho's elbow.

From here, they could head to the kitchen, and Jer would find a way to break the news about the whole time thing. And tell the rest of the team. And figure out how to tell Vic and Sahota that the latter's younger self had decided to swing by.

He had time to work all those out. For now, he had some hot chocolate to make.

×~×~×

@theonewithallthefixations , @violets-whumperflies , @whump-me , @pirefyrelight , @soheavyaburden , @snakebites-and-ink , @whumpsday , @kixngiggles , @echo-goes-aaa , @whumpcateyes , @clickerflight

#me trying to find a balance between 'thisbwas unexpected' and care #yes there actually was a break in it wasn't Vic this time #if Sahota wasn't hurt he probably would've run away #but as it is he's cautiously complying because what else can he do but take jericho at his word? #t$$ time travel #anon #t$$ sahota #i had to wrap it up or wlse this would be like 5k plus lol

[zillasvilla]

Beyond the lights

Chapter Six: Non-disclosure Agreement

Pairings: Jey Uso x Black!Original Character.

Summary: Let’s just say Soraya’s day started out fine, got better only for shit to hit the fan.

Warnings: Explicit, 18+ only. Minors DNI : use of foul language.

A/N: I use the same tag-list for all of my works.

Song: Megan Stallion x NDA

Three weeks. It had been three weeks since the release of Conceited. Soraya had sent the rap industry in an uproar over her debut to the hip-hop industry. It had also been a month since she last saw her man. She knew with the Royal Rumble coming up, he would be busier than normal. Although the recent praise she has been receiving comes to a standstill. 

Soraya sat with her manager and lawyer in a meeting room. A Death Row Records conference area to be exact. Their counselors were present, along with them, and someone she was hoping she would never see again.

“My artist here is prepared to sign a non-disclosure agreement to never speak of her or their relationship in a negative light if she agrees to produce and compose his music.”

She lets out a surprised chuckle, confusing not only her team, but the men across from her. 

“What’s so funny?”

She waves her hand amid her laugh. They were seeking to negotiate his career, and she thought it was laughable. He honestly thought she was going to write his music, let alone produce for him again? He has another thing coming. Soraya quieted herself down, wiping the lone tear that dripped down her face.

“Whew,” she exhales out with a smile. She turns to him, showing him an ounce of attention he’d been wanting since the minute she arrived. “Need I remind you? We signed an NDA two years ago.” 

  At the mention of the NDA, her manager pulled out several of the original documents they both signed, including the signatures of the advocates present at the time as witnesses.

“NDAs carry a statute of limitations them.” His attorney indicates, skimming through the various pages.

“That is correct. However, this one does not.” Naraya, her manager, speaks. Before his counselors could object, his mush mouth looking self spoke. 

“You think you're the shit, huh bitch?” He stares her down, trying to intimidate her. She wasn’t budging, she turns to her advocate, while he whispers in her ear. She nods and rises up, collecting her things. Dame watches with a sneer. Soraya pulled out her phone, a slight grin forming on her face.

Jey 💙: Flight lands in a few hours.

Naraya continues, emphasizing the critical sections. “If you read section four, subsection b, it states that the business arrangement is void if he belittles or refuses to clear her name. If I can recall, two years ago, she received backlash from his fans and several others when he referred to her as a mistress.”

My place or yours.

Dame frowns, seeing the smile on her face. The same smile she gave him when they first got together. “No one belittled this bitch name. She did that herself by taking down my catalogue.”

”What my client is trying to express…“

It had turned into a battle of the counselors, everybody speaking over each other, until Naraya stood up and replayed his interview with Roxanne Wethers on the conference television. They fixate on the screen as he calls Soraya a deranged fan who took his act of kindness too far. Stamping her as the mistress. Soraya tunes out the rest of the conversation. Bouncing on her legs lightly, watching the three messages dance across her screen.

Jey 💙: surprise. Be ready at 8.

Soraya could feel him walking towards her: something she learned out of fear while being with him. He pauses a few feet away. A slight scowl etched on his face. She wasn’t afraid of him anymore; it was all behind her, and it was going to stay that way. Soraya needed to cut all connections with him. 

“Weak ass bitch.” He initiates. Her eyes roll, glancing down into her purse, cutting him off while clutching object in her fist.

“We’re not doing this back and forth. I have shit to do, and you’re not fuckin’ my day up.”

“Tough shit.” He sizes her up, knowing the minute he called her out ther name, she would get riled up, and act out. Soraya was unfazed by his intimidation tactics.

“Dame, I think you forgot about the real reason we signed those NDAs.” Everybody is confused, but the way Dame’s face sank had her eyebrows arched into a knowing smirk. She brings the object between her fingers, a black, and red USB drive. 

Dame was glaring her down, knowing what was on the thumb drive. He gets a step closer. She kisses her teeth and takes a step back. “We go our separate ways, and you still have a chance at a career.”

Dame, with a tilt of his head, let out a threatening chuckle, his fingers pressing against his bottom lip. “You trying to extort me?”

Soraya, with a shrug of her shoulders, drops the USB drive back in her purse and crosses her arms. “You keep my name out of your mouth and I keep yours out of mine, simple as that.”

Their parties are watching the interaction go down, hoping it didn’t escalate. They didn’t have time to deal with assault charges. His team was only worried about reviving his career. She just wanted this to be finished. A slow lick of his lips, and a nod of his head. He stares at her, seeing the icy stare in her eyes. 

“Okay.”

She claps her hands together. “Excellent, we're done here.”

He watches her and her team leave. He was starting to think she was bluffing. However, he wasn’t about to test that theory just yet.

Soraya rushed into her home, tossing her shoes in the closet next to her door. She frowned at the messiness of her living area. She didn’t have time to clean like she wanted to. Soraya settled for putting everything back in place. The knock on the door had her anxious. Glancing at the time on the clock above her fireplace read three-thirty. She realized it wasn’t Jey.  The hammer was relentless. Taking slow steps to the door, she opened it.

A look of annoyance plaster on her face. She leaves the door open and steps away to finish cleaning.

“Oi! Is that any way to treat your siblings?” Her oldest brother, Zyaire, expresses, leading the pack of them in the home. 

“You could’ve called.” Soraya states, finally turning to peer at them. 

“Oh, so you can send it to voicemail again. We gotta pop up.” Zyaire wanders up to her, tugging her into a tight hug. She softens in his embrace, hugging him back. Growing up, he always gave the best hug, and knew when to give them. 

“I’m busy.” She mutters, pushing him back. He snickers and pats his chest. He takes a seat on her couch.

“You’re constantly busy.” Shiloh, her older sister, tells her, sitting next to her Zyaire. The two of them were well into their late thirties and looked amazing for their age. She had hoped to look just as good as them when she aged. It didn’t make it any easier when her twin brothers were born, well into their early thirties and looking like they were teenagers. 

“She is a platinum recording artist.” Duke, one twin, speaks, his head stuffed in her fridge. 

“Don’t forget, she’s a dancer, writer, and producer.” Dennis adds, in the kitchen right along with his twin, raiding her pantry. She had hoped they would leave Jey’s snacks that hid in the back alone. She bought them for him.

” Baby sis, stay busy.” Zyaire stares at her. “So who is he?”

Soraya glances at him, confused. “Huh?”

“Huh.” He mocks. “Who is he, Raya?” Zyaire had noted the men’s shoes in a bin next to her couch, the random bottles of cologne on her kitchen island. His sister was seeing someone. 

“There is no he..” She starts, unsure if he was serious or just joking. 

“She must think we dumb.” Zyaire cuts her off, laughing with the twins. Soraya tucks a lip between her teeth, feeling small under her brother's presence. She loathed communicating to him. He was constantly trying to be somebody’s daddy. Their own dad didn’t speak to them this way.

“Is it Dame?” He frowns at her now. He had hoped it wasn’t him. Zyaire couldn’t stand the nigga, and would rather lay hands on him for how he treated his little sister. Shiloh smacks his shoulder, seeing the overprotective part of him coming out. A part of him she knew all too well.

“What, she let this nigga bitch her out?” The amount of yelling that occurred gave Soraya a headache. She didn’t hear what they said as she raced up the stairs to her room. They could let themselves out, she thought. She goes in her bathroom and shuts the door behind her, locking it before sitting on the wall to clear her mind for a minute.

Soraya cared for her siblings, but sometimes, they could be too much. Especially with the large age difference between them. They were fun, but by the time she was old enough, they were already out of the house and experiencing life. They treated her like a baby. Gentle knocks on the door breaks her trance. 

“Raya.”

She frowns, hearing her sister’s voice. “The boys left. Just me.” She stands, opening the door, she turns the light on to her closet. Shiloh watches her walk through the rack of clothes. Soraya was always a perfectionist, and it trailed into her everyday life. Her wardrobe was color-coded and by the season. The blue and white WWE gear stood out like a sore thumb. A small smirk forms on Shiloh’s face. 

“It’s Joshua, isn’t it?” 

Soraya wondered what gave it away, but it didn’t surprise her, she guessed, without asking questions. After all, she was engaged to his cousin, Joe. She smiles at the thought of the couple's dates with her sister and cousin Trinity. She grabs a dress from a hanger, letting it rest on her body. 

“You think this is too much for a date?” She turns to Shiloh, glancing at her. Shiloh has a small smile on her face.

 “Yeah, did he say where he was taking you?” 

“Nope.” She sighs, tossing the gown somewhere, shocking her sister, as Soraya hated clothes on the floor. “He just said to be ready at 8.”

Shiloh had spent the better part of the day helping her younger sister get ready. Soraya had told her about how they've been together officially for a month now, and it had happened recently. 

“So, are you guys going public?” 

Soraya, putting on her heels, shakes her head. “No.” She stands up, running her hands through her hair, fluffing out the tight curls.

” Did he agree to that?”

A soft knock came at her door. Looking at the clock, it was eight on the dot. “I’m not ready to tell anyone.” She grabs her phone and purse, leaving her sister to watch her leave. The long trek down the stairs had her anxious. Her hand grasps the doorknob, twisting it open. On the other side, he stood dressed in a white shirt and light-washed distressed jeans. In his hands, he carried a vase of flowers. 

“Hi.” she whispers, feeling giddy under his affectionate gaze. She walks closer, wrapping her arms around his neck. His lips press delicately to her cheek, inhaling her expensive scent. 

“Hey pretty girl. Are you ready?”

“Mhm. Yes.”

“Hi Jey.” They glanced back, and her sister was standing behind her. “Don't worry. The secret is safe with me.” She lifts her fingers in scout's of honor. “Have her back home in a reasonable hour, yeah?”

Jey laughs lowly with a nod, holding Soraya’s hand in his own. “I got chu.” He leads Soraya out to his truck. Opening the passenger side for, he leans down. “You look sexy tonight, mamas.”

Soraya appreciated her deeper complexion, any brighter, and you would see the warm flush of her cheeks turning red. He plants a brief peck on her lips. The door slamming shut as he went to his side.

The ride was short, but agonizing. His large hand resting on her thigh, his thumb rubbing circles into her skin. The powerful scent of wood and musk filled her nose, making her eyes roll at how the smell suited him. His new mullet hairstyle shaped his head perfectly, stopping at the base of his collar. The black strands of hair curling wildly away from his neck

“Where are you taking me?” She eventually breaks the comfortable silence. 

“A surprise.” He keeps it short. He shivers at her nails grazing the skin on his nape. He briefly closes his eyes, exhaling deeply. He puts his focus on the road. 

“I don’t do surprises.” 

His eyebrow arches in amusement, giving her thigh a gentle squeeze. “You’ll love this one.”

Soraya loved the surprise. His hands were placed on her waist as he guided her to a restaurant that had to be reserved months in advance. She had complained to him about being on the waitlist for just a reservation. 

“How do you-How did you do?” She turns to stare at him. A triumphant smirk appeared on his face.

“I pulled a few strings.”

Their table wasn’t ready, so they remained in a secluded section, soothing music playing in the background. Soraya pressed her back against his chest, letting him hug her from behind, pressing tender kisses along the side of her face.

“Missed you so much.” He grumbles, swaying them side to side.

“I missed you more.” Soraya murmurs, turning in his arms. She wraps his arms around his neck, wishing to be buried in his skin, but this would have to do.

” We have to talk about it.” 

“About what?” Soraya knew what, she had hoped he would forget about it.

”Us and the privacy of our relationship.”

She struggles to step back, but his grip on her was firm. He dreaded this conversation just as much as she did. They were living on the high of being together, and have yet communicated to each other about what they wanted from each other.

“I don’t want everyone to know.” She mumbles. “At least, not yet.”

He had a hint on why she remained private, and he was okay with that, or he thought he was. “We can at least tell our folks yea?”

The silence between them was thick. On one hand, her sister already knew, and she was bound to spill it to her family, more so because she wasn’t doing it the traditional way. Her Samoan culture refused to let her keep it from family, and she hated she was deep-rooted in her heritage, but embraced the gentle gestures that came with it. She realized it wasn’t fair to force him keep it from his family. 

A sharp breath leaves her lips, his coarse hand smoothing up and down her back. Jey’s eyes never left her face, watching the subtle crease in her eyebrows when she took out out her phone. The vivid red lettering caught his eyes.

XL Artist, Dame has released several documents. In those documents, he implicates recording artist Soraya as an associate in his endeavors. 

She places her phone back in her bag, not wanting to spoil the night. He could tell her mood was sour. He shifts her to his other side, guiding her to a chair, making her sit. She watches him, confused. Jey, with a slight tug of his jeans to adjust them, sits at one of the many pianos. 

His finger glides smoothly over the keys, piecing together a melody of notes, using his skills as a way of distracting her. A soft smile on her face at the hidden talent. She uses her phone to sneak a quick picture before they were seated. Refusing to put any distance between them, He squishes her in the booth, making her giggle.

“No space, huh?” 

“Nope. I haven’t seen or touched you for a month.” He leans down next to her ear. “I also can’t do this if I’m on the other side.”

Before she could ask what he meant, his hand closest to her found its way up the white dress she was wearing, fingers treading carefully in uncharted territory. The pads of his fingers teasing along the band of her underwear. 

“Jey.” she warns, breathing hitching in her throat at the contact of his fingers drawing back the band to slip his fingers inside her soaked underwear.

He presses his lips to her ear, leaving delicate kisses along the shell. “Are you wet for me?” He murmurs, his tone dangerously deep. An appreciative sigh leaves her own, with a nod. He works her up gradually, moving his fingers in tight circles until her thighs crush his hand. 

“So fuckin’ wet, princess.” He sighs, pulling his hand back. She watches him aroused at the way he sucked his fingers clean, wanting his mouth where his fingers were.

The meal was fairly nice. He splurged on the tasting menu, knowing she would have a hard time picking what she wanted to try first. They ate in a comfortable silence, bringing up their likes and dislikes, reminiscing about the moment they almost got together. So into each other, they hadn’t noticed the lack of people in the restaurant. 

“What do you want from me?” He asks the question that was burning in the back of his head. He had hoped she could see a future with him. She was it for him and god willing, she would be his wife one day. Soraya, knowing what he was asking, shuffled into her seat. Her hands reached down to grab his own, intertwining their fingers together. “Long-term, short -term, or what do you want?” He questions.

She was surprised by the question. She figured they were together, and in an actual relationship. “I thought we made it official?”

Jey flexes his shoulders back, taking a small sip of the now watered-down coke. “We did.” He shifts around in the booth to lean back and look at her. Her soft brown eyes staring up at him. “We just need to set some expectations.”

She groans. “It’s that conversation.”

“Yes, it’s that conversation.” He chuckles, moving the arm that was holding her hand to rest around her back. His large hand rubbing circles on the bare flesh of her thigh. “I’ll start.” His legs instinctively spread on, allowing her own to drape over his thighs. “I want honest and open communication between us. I just want you to know you can trust and feel protected with me.”

She does. The moment he saved her three years ago, she knew he was a safe space. He was her safe space. He continues on about trust, and honestly, he rambles on making sure he forgot nothing. She places a tender smooch on his mouth, shutting him up. His lips moving against hers in a passionate kiss. Her hands rested on his chest before pushing him back when he tried to deepen the kiss. She needed a a minute to breathe. Just kissing him made her dizzy in the best way possible. 

“You’re it for me Joshua.” It was entirely true. If this didn’t work out with him, she was going to stay single for life. She wasn’t going to find anyone like him. He disregards her calling him by his government, liking how it sounds when she said it.

“Good.” He whispers before kissing her again, distracting her from his movement and digging his hand in his pocket. A soft thud hitting the table pulls her back. “I have something for you.” 

Soraya peeks at the small brown leather-skin box in his hand. A small smile forms on her face when she grabs it. The box wasn’t new, just new to her. The same box his cousin Joe had given her sister before they made it official. Her fingers smoothed over the flat corners, tracing the patterns of the ridged leather. He watches in anticipation as she opens the box. A surprised gasp leaving her lips. 

“Joshua.” She whines.

”Mhm, open it.” He urges with a smile.

Lifting the piece of fabric in the box, her look of surprise turns into a small pout. She runs her fingers along the small white pearls that were woven around the band. It feathered down to the center where a white flower rested on a leather cut-out. In its center was a small blue-lavender moonstone. She realized he must have talked to Joe. He was the only person who knew about her family’s love of pearls and birthstones. A soft sigh leaves her mouth, leaning up to kiss him. He welcomes the kiss. Though, the present may be pointless to some. It was something they shared, being of Samoan culture. The gifting of jewelry to represent the new relationship. Usually, the present from the guy to the girl. There were countless other rules they were skipping. They would deal with the consequences later.

The constant buzzing of their phones frustrated them as they left the restaurant. Hand in hand, they both pull out their phones. His brows arched, confused. He felt her tense, and he didn’t have to look at her to know she was fuming. 

Recording artist Soraya, mentioned in a recent court case against the mother of Dame’s child. She says Soraya knew the nature of her relationship with Dame and continued to pursue him. She then retaliated against him when he came out about the true nature of their affair. Hence, her name Fatal, Attraction. It is also said she was the one who fed his addiction, then sent him to rehab as a way of controlling him.

Rap artist Dame has confirmed these allegations with an interview at the breakfast club.” Yeah man, I met her in the studio, told her I had a girl. She didn’t care. I finally broke away from her crazy ass, and she pulled strings to get my catalog removed. Bitch is insane. I pray for anyone who’s tapping that.”

He thought she was bluffing and called her bluff. Don’t worry, she had a surprise for him.

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