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devilfic · 6 months

Text

❝late-bloomer❞

plot: you've never been kissed before. on a completely unrelated note, what if your best friend offered to be your first? pairing: tasm!peter parker x gn!reader. cw: post-tasm 2, gwen stacy mention, angst, self-deprecating thoughts about being undesirable and insecurity in love, best friends to wouldn't you like to know, eventual fluff, attempts at andrew garfield accurate rambling, he definitely talks you through it I mean who said that. words: 4.3k.

a/n: entirely self-indulgent because I wrote this after crying over being a late-bloomer for an hour ahahaha

Peter is reading something for research when you suck in a breath and finally ask, "What was your first kiss like?"

You hear his voice die in his throat. The small whispering of test results and calculations fall short, but you don't dare to look back. You're hunched forward so he won't see the way your eyes burn and brim with tears unshed because if he did, he'd ask about it and then you'd really start crying. Instead, you busy yourself with your phone, idly scrolling as if your question was pure curiosity alone.

You watch his ankles uncross, hear him sit up and then lean against the headboard again, fumbling for your train of thought, "Uh... sticky, 'cause I was six," Peter laughs, "You should know. You're the one who kissed me."

No matter how many times he tells you this, you can't remember the day you'd been so bold as to plant one right on Peter Parker's lips. You felt like you'd remember that, but you'd been such an impulsive child back them. Bolder. Thicker-skinned.

But Peter remembers, and so does Aunt May who swears up and down that she'd caught it on camera ("If only I could find that damned photo album"). You're the only one who doesn't. It's like it never happened, "No, God... no. I mean like your first real kiss."

"Like with tongue?" You hear the humor in his voice and even your sullen mood doesn't stop you from smacking his knee. "I dunno what you're talking about. That kiss was real to me."

"I'm serious, Pete."

He hums. You're so, so tempted to look back and see what he's thinking, but it would give you away too easily. "It was... it was a kiss. I mean, Gwen- you know. You know. I was crazy about her. I didn't think I just... kissed her."

"How did it feel? Do you know?"

"I felt like I needed to do it. I felt like if I didn't, I'd throw up. Not actually, just... like I'd explode with all the feelings I had for her."

Your finger hovers over a tweet. In your wondering about that feeling of almost nearly exploding, you try to picture that rooftop kiss that Peter had relayed to you between classes, with hushed whispers and childish laughter. It was windy, and I was breathless, he'd said, and I wanted to lay myself bare. And I just... pulled her in. Shot a web and swept her up and kissed her. I think I've lost my mind. You remembered pressing your back against the school lockers to cool yourself as you imagined the scene, the steps it took for you to settle the uneasy churn in the pit of your chest. The euphoria and panic upon realizing that your Peter was growing up.

You felt overwhelmed just imagining it. You barely hear Peter ask why you want to know. "No reason. Was just curious."

You think that Peter accepts that as good enough reason because the room is silent again. You keep scrolling, keep taking subtle deep breaths to keep the tears at bay. You see a picture of a couple on your timeline and scroll faster.

A few minutes of peace pass before Peter broaches the subject again, "What about you?"

"Hm?"

"I don't think you've ever told me about your first kiss."

Your shoulders tense. No good effort hides the strain in your voice, "I haven't?"

A beat passes. You glance over your shoulder and see Peter staring right at you, his lips upturned in a small, resting smile, but his eyes are inquiring. He's trying to read you. Perhaps he's just noticed the heavy cloud hanging overhead. "Nope." He pops the "P". He's waiting.

You could lie. You could say it was Flash Thompson who stole it, mention that field trip to the zoo in middle school when he'd sneaked next to you at the peacock exhibit and pestered you about you and Peter. Peter wouldn't question Flash about it. Even if they'd made amends, any conversation about him would send him over the edge with memories of his childhood bully and how much he pitied you for having your first kiss with him. And all of you were far too old now; Flash Thompson had gone to another state to play football the minute he got his diploma. It'd be so inconsequential, such an easy lie.

But the longer it takes you to deliberate on it, the worse it makes you look. You should've offered up an answer easily, jovially, unbothered. It should be inconsequential. Anything more and Peter would call your bluff because he knew you better than you knew yourself sometimes.

At some point, you feel the brush of a lone finger at the base of your spine and it startles you. Peter's slipped his finger under your shirt, stroking along the middle of your back, "I won't laugh. If that's what you're thinking." He says softly.

Of course Peter wouldn't laugh at you. As much as your relationship was teasing, he knew where you were tender.

But it wasn't laughing you worried about.

"I know." You say, in lieu of a real answer. You fear you've given yourself away.

Now there are two fingers stroking your skin, "You don't... you don't have to tell me, if you don't want to," but you can hear the discomfort in his voice when he says it, like the thought that it's something you don't want to tell him concerns him, "it's up to you."

Just lie. Your breath shudders and immediately you regret it. There's no way he hadn't heard that.

Before you can recover, you're feeling the heat of his entire hand on your back now as it slips further up, as he sits up in bed beside you and rests his chin on your shoulder. The closeness of his breath makes you feel claustrophobic all of a sudden, "Hey, hey. I'm sorry. Did I push? I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you."

You struggle to shake your head, but now your eyes are burning again and you don't think you can stop the tears this time, "You didn't." You insist.

"You're crying, bub," he laughs (not mockingly, never mockingly, never when you cry) and reaches a thumb up to brush away the first warm tear, "what's wrong?"

There's a million things you could say. I've never been kissed before, I don't know what it feels like to be longed for like that, I want to be longed for like that, why haven't I been longed for like that? But it all feels so heavy. Peter picks his chin up to kiss your shoulder and that really does it, "It never happened."

Peter's lips still against your skin. Their warmth slowly peels away, though you feel his breath ghost over the curve of your bone, "What hasn't?"

"A kiss. A first kiss, Peter. I've never had one."

"That's..." Peter sounds almost shocked, disbelieving. He never picks up that thought.

You turn your head away and toss your phone onto the bed, no longer interested in pretending you could distract yourself with anything else. You try to shrug your shoulder out from underneath Peter's mouth but he's quick, the hand at your back locking around you and you can't escape him even though you want to, even though you need to get away from his sweet smile and lovely heartbeat that thuds a little faster against your side.

It was already so much to tell him you hadn't had your first kiss yet, to admit to your best friend who—despite popular Midtown High opinion—has always been so irresistible to lovers, that you haven't gone as far as something so... simple. Something teenagers running your old stomping grounds have probably experienced ten times over by now. You don't think you can handle his pity too, "Peter, please."

"There's nothing wrong with that. Nothing at all. Everyone moves at their own pace."

You hiss through your teeth. You don't mean to, but the spite overwhelms you like red hot heat for a minute, "It's easy to say that when you've done it already."

You catch Peter's eye and immediately regret it. His untamed brows are drawn together, expression more analyzing than pitying. Even though you're brimming with feelings, he seems as if he's trying to wade through them, search for the gnarled root at the center of it all.

Then, and he says this so carefully that the meaning takes a moment to catch up with you, "There's nothing wrong with you."

It's the sincerity that does it. You shove his hand off of you, jerk away from him in a scramble to stand, but Peter is fast and lithe and he's always been two steps ahead of you even before the bite. He's up on his feet before even you are, coming to stand in your way when you go to grab for your bag, "Peter, move."

"Look, can we... can we talk about this?"

"I really don't want to. Move."

"Why are you shutting me out?"

"Because I want to go home. Move."

"Is it because of what I said?"

"Yes!" You blurt, growing frustrated the longer he blocks your path, "yes. Because I'm sick of being told there's nothing wrong with me when clearly..." Your voice tapers off, afraid to give him the reason he needs to worry about you, "Please. I'm just tired. It'll go away on its own, it always does, I just can't be here right now."

The standoff between you two lingers, feels like you might have to fight him just to escape. It takes everything in you just to keep eye contact with him and not burst into tears.

Peter clearly doesn't want to let you go. You can see that genius brain of his running every possible scenario in his mind in which he convinces you to stay, cry it out, leave happier than you came. None of them come soon enough. You brush past him when he realizes he's got nothing, and even the hand that grabs for you is halfhearted, shrugged off with little force.

"I'll see you later, Pete."

You let his front door shut on its own.

It hasn't been great.

What typically took a few hours to shake off had settled over you like a dark cloud ever since you'd stormed out of Peter's place. Even though you texted him like everything was fine (and dodged any phone calls so he wouldn't hear the truth with those freakishly good best friend senses of his), you had yet to see him again. Had yet to let yourself be seen.

You told yourself that it was just you missing Peter, and you believed that to be true, but you also believed that when he looked you in the eye and told you "there's nothing wrong with you", you hadn't been prepared for the nakedness of it all. He'd dug deep, right to the source. That kind of thing was hard to move past.

So you avoided him. If he came by your place, you pretended you weren't home. If he showed up at your work to take you to coffee, you lied and told him you had plans with a coworker. It had been several days now and you felt more and more cowardly by the minute.

It was Peter. Of all people, it was Peter. Your best friend. You could tell him anything (most things, some kept a little closer to the heart). You should be able to.

And it was silly. Being embarrassed about not kissing anyone. Plenty of people were in the same boat as you and they didn't ice their best friend out about it.

Ugh, now you were just making yourself feel worse.

You'd had enough. You'd end this pity party today. As you make your way through your apartment door, you promise yourself that after you've showered, after you've made yourself a filling dinner, after you've settled into bed, you'd call Peter and ask him to meet for pizza this weekend. You'd talk like civil adults who understand that life isn't a race. You'd share your couch, laugh about the whole thing, and maybe, just maybe, the hollowness in your chest that longed for someone's desire to fill it would finally-

He's sitting in your kitchen.

Legs dangling off the island, mask rolled up to his nose, and a spoon clattering out of his mouth and into a bowl of ice cream. Your front door shuts gently behind you.

You stare at each other for a few seconds. Then you glance through your bedroom door, cracked open just enough for you to see the breeze rustling your curtains. You turn back to Peter, who's cleaning off his bottom lip of raspberry sorbet. "Did you climb through the window? You have a key."

Peter sets the bowl down beside him, shrugs, "You weren't returning my calls."

Your shoulders sag and you drop your things to the floor, "Peter-"

"No, no," you watch him slide off the countertop and bounce over to you, and the nearness you aren't prepared for makes you back away an inch or two, "No Peter. I'm not Peter. I'm Spider-Man. See?" He gestures to the suit.

You reach your hand up and pinch his exposed cheek, then narrowly avoid his teeth before he tries to nip you, "I'm not in the mood. I said I'd call you later, I'm just... busy."

"Busy avoiding your best friend."

You can feel him trail after you as you walk away, beginning to undress. He catches your coat when you throw it toward the couch and hangs it up all neat on a hook. He kicks your shoes to a wall and tugs your belt from your fingertips once you've undone it. Then, unexpectedly, he hooks said belt around your waist and yanks you back to face him.

The momentum throws you fully into his chest but he's sturdy, unmoving as you grip his shoulders and give him the most hostile look you can muster. You attempt to wiggle out of the trap but he pulls the belt tighter, forcing you closer, and then you start to panic as the space between you both disappears, "I haven't been avoiding you, I just needed space." You quickly explain.

"And I get that," he admits, "but you scared me. I've never seen you like that before. Not with me. Not ever."

Of course he hadn't. It was why you kept all of this a secret in the first place. Because you knew he'd worry, and you knew that there would be nothing he could do to fix it. Not like he usually could.

"It was a... brief lapse in self-esteem. That's all. You're making it into a bigger deal than it should be."

"It's not a big deal?"

"No! That's what I keep trying to tell you."

"So it doesn't matter at all."

"Correct."

"Right."

"It's just an arbitrary milestone that means nothing." You grip the leather of your belt but you're nothing against his superhuman strength. Pleading with your eyes, you do your best not to slip back into that vulnerable place all over again. Peter made you feel safe to do that. Way too safe to do that. "I promise. I'm not avoiding you."

You get sick of staring into the whites of his mask and so you grab the edge of it and pull it up to his hairline, little tufts of curls poking out as his face is fully revealed to you. You stare into those sharp, probing eyes of his, forcing yourself to stand the test of Peter Parker's perception.

Suddenly, you're released.

You stumble back a bit, the belt clanking against the floor, as Peter throws his arms up in defeat, "Alright, alright. I get it. I should've let you breathe the other night. I was just worried, is all."

You smile, "And I appreciate that."

Peter quickly glances at you and then away, making an exaggerated show of kicking imaginary dust off the floor. "First kisses really mean nothing then, huh?"

"Zilch. Nada."

"So... doesn't matter when it is, who it is..."

You watch him carefully, "If this is about when we were six-"

"No, no, I know that didn't count. You don't even remember it," his face contorts in a wince, "I was just thinking. Something."

Your eyes narrow, "Uh-huh."

"Well, I mean, is that why? Because you don't remember it? Or... is it because it was me?"

"The kiss?" Peter blows a raspberry, looking more bashful by the second, and nods without looking at you. "It's... it's because we were six. And we didn't know what we were doing. I was just mimicking what we saw. We didn't know anything."

"And now we do."

"Yeah. What are you getting at, Pete?"

He sits on the back of your couch and kicks his feet out in front of him. "If all that matters is that we both know what we're doing, and a first kiss is just a meaningless milestone to you, then I thought that maybe we could give it another go. You know. So when a real kiss comes along that actually means something, you'll have an idea of how it's supposed to go."

You're six years old again.

You and Peter Parker are sitting in the dirt, mouths covered in sticky ice cream that the summer sun melted right up. You're both talking about Flash Thompson's trip to Florida and the hilarious sunburn he came back with when you spot an elderly couple across the park, pressing their mouths together over and over.

You're looking over at Peter and asking about it, sure it couldn't possibly feel good, and he's telling you that when Uncle Ben kisses May good morning in the kitchen he always looks away because it's gross.

And you're thinking... you start thinking something.

You're thinking it would be funny—that Peter would hate you for it, but you're just so curious—and you're pressing your lips to his so quickly that he doesn't get a chance to pull back before you're giggling in the grass. And May's voice flutters in the background, a shrill and delighted, "I caught that!" that makes you both turn tail and run toward the swings.

Peter's still staring at you, waiting.

Part of you feels like it's pity. Like he doesn't want you to feel bad about yourself. Like he doesn't know how else to fix it, because he has to fix it. He has to fix everything. He has to be your hero.

But the other part? A restless and selfish part wants to take it; it's curious.

You take a step forward, the two of you watching each other, waiting to see if the other might back out at the last second. He stays exactly where he is, legs parting slowly, and the silent invitation makes you feel hot under the collar.

When you're standing between them, you feel his knees bump your legs on either side, his hands planted firmly into the couch cushions. You notice the grip he has on them, "Are you sure?" You pause.

Peter tilts his head in that strange, spider-like way. As if he cannot fathom why would you ask such a thing, "Of course. I'm the one who offered."

Your hands shake as they consider where to put themselves, and you get about halfway to his shoulders before he takes them and places them on either side of his face, mumbling something about how it might help you feel more in control, quell your nerves a bit.

Peter's cheeks feel so warm in your hands, and you can feel each swallow he makes the longer you take in his expression. "Should... I move in first? Or..."

He laughs, short and high-pitched, "I guess I can go first."

You know you're supposed to close your eyes, but as he comes in close, you can't help but keep them lidded, taking in every twitch of his mouth as he inclines his neck, shuts his eyes, and kisses you.

Your brain reacts a half-second after his lips touch yours. You've probably stopped breathing, and you have to force your lips to unstiffen so that you could actually feel him. His lips are a little wet—he'd been rolling his bottom lip between his teeth since he'd sat down—and they taste faintly of raspberry. They're not cold though, and the feeling isn't unpleasant.

You don't know how to react to it, don't know if you should move or not, and so instead you curl your fingers into the silk of his nape and wait for the pounding in your chest to stop.

You feel him mouth at your bottom lip just once, and then pull back. "How'd that feel?"

You recall the sensations that went through your brain (all that it can recall anyway, when Peter's looking at you like that), "Slimy...?"

Peter's face falls, and then he bursts into laughter, shakes with the force of it, and drops his head on your shoulder. "There's got to be a better word than that."

"I don't know! I was just thinking about the feeling."

"I don't want to know what it felt like, I want to know how it made you feel. Did you like it? Hate it?"

"I don't know. I'm- I'm nervous."

"Hey, that's okay," his hand rubs your hip, warming the skin there, and you find yourself leaning into it for comfort, "everyone is their first time."

Peter is so, so gentle. Your heart feels like it might give out, but a little less now that it's over and he's not looking at you in disgust. You don't know what you expected, but... this was better. By far. That part of you that felt selfish takes over again, "Can we try again?"

His eyes widen a bit, but he's immediately nodding, "Okay. Yeah. Okay. We can try as- as many times as you want."

You nearly choke on your spit. "Can we?" Your voice comes out a meek whisper.

Peter nods. He brings his legs in so that he's sitting properly now. "Of course. You wanna move me? I can sit somewhere else. Or you can sit if you want."

"No, I like you here," you say, feeling your stomach tighten when his thighs lock against your legs, "um. Is there anything I can work on? How did I feel?"

"Warm. Soft. Just try to loosen up, alright?"

You force yourself to release the tension in your body and move in first this time. Images of rom-com kisses flood your brain, how you memorized their rhythms and the placement of their mouths. You try your best to mimic it, make it feel as good as it seemed to look, when you feel one of Peter's hands slip behind your head and angle you away just a hair, "You're tensing up," he warns, making you pause, "it doesn't have to be perfect. It's just you and me. Breathe for me, okay? Turn your brain off."

You feel your stomach flip a bit, and nod along mindlessly. You try again.

This time, it feels a little different. Not wet or stiff, even if it is still awkward. It almost overwhelms you when, as you're mouthing at Peter's lip, he returns the favor, but you keep your brain empty. You can't focus on the details because it won't feel right. You can't focus on the way it looks because it won't feel right.

So you focus on Peter. You focus on the hand on your hip drawing you closer and the hand on your neck rubbing circles into the knot there. You focus on the feeling of his suit under your pinkies. You focus on the small hum he makes when, with quite a bit of building up to it, you pass your tongue over his.

Almost as soon as you do it, you pull back. Peter is flushed and it makes the beauty marks on his skin stand out more. His eyelashes flutter, a half-smile on his lips that are kissed red. By you.

You open your mouth to ask but he beats you to it, "I think you've got it now... yeah. Definitely." You're so relieved you sigh, sagging away from him, but he catches your hands before they can can leave his face completely and holds them in his lap. You don't dare move them. "How about you? Did you like it?"

You nod, speechless.

Peter laughs and squeezes your hands in his, "Okay, good. Good. I love you, you know? I know it doesn't... replace what you're looking for, but you're wonderful. You're insane and funny and stunning and there's nothing wrong... you know? You're perfect. Take it from your loser best friend who had to get bit by a radioactive spider to get to first base."

You snort, "I mean, if that's all it takes..."

Peter shakes his head and stands, but his hand remains on your neck as you follow his eyes to his full height, "So, we good? No more ignoring me?" You bite your lip, nodding your head. Peter smiles. "Good, cause I'm starving and I need you to split a pizza with me."

"You just polished off a tub of ice cream and you're still hungry?"

"I'm a growing spider, honey. And I missed you." Without warning, the hand on your hip hooks around your back and hoists you into his body, throwing you off balance once more, "I'll swing us there and cover cheese sticks too. Sound good?"

You know you don't have much room to argue when he's being so generous. And not when he's beaming at you, so genuinely relieved to have you back that it would knock you off your feet if he wasn't holding you up.

He was right; this wouldn't replace what you were looking for, but it gets pretty damn close. Closer than you expected, actually. But it's just the adrenaline. This didn't change anything.

Did it? You stare up at Peter.

"We can try as many times as you want."

You might have a very different problem than you started with.

taglist: @yikes-buddy @alexxavicry @theclassicvinyldragon @marina-and-the-memes

#peter parker x reader #peter parker scenarios #peter parker imagines #peter parker fic #peter parker fluff #peter parker angst #peter parker #spiderman x reader #spiderman scenarios #spiderman imagines #spiderman fic #spiderman fluff #spiderman angst #andrew garfield #spider-man #marvel #mjwrites #tasm

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that-sarcastic-writer · 9 months

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A Love Game

DI!Single!Dad!Leon S. Kennedy X F!Teacher!Reader

Summary: You hear a glimpse of Leon's relationship with his daughter. And later he makes you a proposal you just can't refuse

Warnings: mild sexual content, still minors dni, brief phone sex, allusions to sex, Leon has a mouth on his as always, bit of soft!dom leon, mostly Leon being a soft dad on this one, foul language (as always), no use of y/n

WC: 3k

A/N: so I'm totally in love with this dynamic! And yalls support was insane. I literally wrote two separate drafts of a continuation of these two and whichever I finished first was gonna be posted, so the light smut one won bc I'm tired atm and didn't feel like sitting in front of my computer for 6 hours🙃 so this short part will have a second part to it with full spicy time. And another standalone part with these two (coffee and other things) having some more spicy time is also in the works, so stay tuned. Besitos <3

Universe Masterlist

Leon blinked slowly, his eyes now starting to grow sore from staring at the bright computer screen for so long. But he just hadn't had time to finish this stupid report. Sure, he has had two whole days to get it done, but with a tiny human clinging to his arm every waking minute, it was a bit more complicated than he thought. But he couldn't possibly ignore his little girl when he barely had the time to be with her without having to worry about stopping some mad scientist with too much time in their hands. He didn't mind though. His little girl was more important than anything else.

Still, he took advantage of the little window of time he had now. He had given Isabella dinner a little over an hour ago. Then left her in the dining room to finish her homework. She had always been a smart girl, responsible with her homework, she never fussed when he asked her to do it, so it didn't worry him in the slightest to leave her to do her own thing. She tended to get distracted when he was around anyway.

Though, maybe an hour had gone by when he heard tiny feet pad bare through the wood floors and he saw a mess of chocolate brown strands sticking from its bun peek above his computer screen. He slowly lowered the screen until it was almost shut and he was met with a pair of sapphire eyes that were a replica of his own. He raised an eyebrow at her.

"Daddy." She took a step closer to him, her eyes big like she wanted to ask him something.

Leon sat up fully, setting his laptop aside and nodded at her, giving her his full attention now. "What's up bee?"

"Can I.. uhm.. I can play with your switch now?" She asked, dark lashes batting as she fiddled with her hands. As if she had to give him puppy dog eyes for him to say yes. He kept his face serious though.

"You wanna play on my switch?" She nodded. He ran his fingers over his light stubble as if he was thinking real hard, he pursed his lips in thought. "I dunno hun, did you finish your homework?"

"How did you know I had homework?" She asked with an adorable frown on her face, it took Leon all of his willpower not to break then.

"Well I do now." He slipped a smile and she pouted. He couldn't help but chuckle at his little girl. He took her in his arms and sat her on his lap. "Well I knew before. Wanna know how?"

Her head perked up. "How?"

Leon leaned into her ear with a smile, "'Cause dads know everything about their little girls." He pressed a kiss to the side of her hair and set her back on her feet. "But yeah, Miss Pretty Teacher told me."

"That's cheating!" She whipped her head around with a gasp and glared at him. He again couldn't hide his laugh.

"Yeah alright, you caught me," he raised his hands up at her in surrender. "You can play on the switch for a bit. Do you remember how to turn it on?"

Izzy proudly nodded and skipped over to the large TV hooked up to the living room. The TV had been on, nothing playing, but just on, since Leon had intended to play some white noise in the background but never actually loaded up anything. He switched to the right input as he watched Izzy turn on the Switch. It took her a second to remember how, but she was happily skipping back to the couch with the controllers as the loading screen came up before Leon could get up to help. He shook his head to himself, but he puffed out a breath when Izzy jumped on his lap, rather hard, the little girl giggling when he groaned.

"Jesus Christ, when did you get so big?" He chuckled, fixing her on his lap so she wouldn't fall and watched as she scrolled through the games until she found Mario Kart.

"I turned seven in October, remember?" She piped up, genuinely reminding him of such an important date, as if he would ever forget. He nodded.

"I know, Izzy. I took you to Dave and Busters with Amara, remember?"

"Oh. Yeah, you're right. That was fun. We should go again sometime! Please daddy?" She turned her head to look at him with this smile on her face and her big blue eyes.

God, what did he ever do to deserve this kid?

He pressed his lips to her forehead and nodded.

"'Course. I'll talk to Amara's mom, okay?"

He watched as Izzy excitedly nodded and cheered happily before she got lost in the game in front of her. He didn't mind her having screen time. It wasn't like she had an iPad glued to her face twenty-four-seven. He let her play once or twice a week, and maybe a third if he was feeling like playing with her. And she was more than happy to spend that time with her dad.

Tonight he wasn't really feeling playing, so he watched her do her best. To her, she was the biggest winner there ever was, throwing turtle shells and bombs at practically nothing and hitting the wall with every curve, but she had fun with it, so he let her be, cheering her on whenever she finished a race, even if it was in ninth or eighth place.

Maybe thirty minutes had passed when he felt his phone buzz beside him. He took his eyes away from the colorful screen to look at his phone. It lit up with a text, and his smile grew wide at the name.

My pretty teacher.

He grabbed his phone and quickly opened the conversation. You had been texting back and forth all day, for days now, after what he considered a perfect first date, but he just hadn't gotten around to match your schedule to plan another date. So you had resorted to texting and maybe calling once here and there. But God, he was really missing you right about now.

My pretty teacher: sorry, I went to dinner with my mom and sister. And I just got home. Hru?

He bit his lip as he attempted to type into his phone one handed.

Me: It's fine. I'm ok. With izzy.

My pretty teacher: awww🥰

Me: Can you call? I'm texting with one hand at the moment.

You saw the message, and he could see the three text bubbles appear and disappear. Until they didn't come back. He mentally grimaced at himself, maybe the idea of talking to him while Isabella was there made you uncomfortable? Shit. He hadn't thought about that. Christ, he hadn't dated in so long he had forgotten that being a single dad wasn't exactly the biggest turn on. No matter how much one liked kids.

His anxiety riddled brain stopped racing when he saw your contact name pop up on his screen as his phone started ringing. He grinned to himself. He glanced at Izzy— her full attention was still on her game, he shrugged and answered the call. He set his phone down, still having one ear bud in from when he was working on his laptop.

"Hey Miss." He spoke first, his heart racing in his chest a bit.

"Hi Leon." He could hear the smile in your voice. That shy smile he thought was the prettiest thing.

"You busy?" He asked, still a bit worried he was interrupting you in the middle of something. Though the indistinct sound of TV playing in the background let him know that maybe you weren't that busy.

"Not really. I got home a little bit ago so I was just about to run myself a bath." You answered, walking back and forth between your bedroom and the bathroom connected to it. "You?"

Leon tried his hardest not to think about your words too much. Not right now.

"Nah. Just watching Izzy play on my switch. She's kicking ass in Mario Kart." He heard you blurt out a giggle, which made him chuckle, but what made him actually laugh was Izzy shooting him a frown over her shoulder.

"Daddy, that's a no-no word."

Leon snapped his head down at Izzy and he frowned, not sure if he heard her correctly, "What's that bee?"

"I said that's a bad word."

"What is?"

"Ass."

Leon almost snorted at the way she said the word. With a frown and her lips pursed. He didn't care if she said bad words or not. He sure as hell said them all the time, but he encouraged her not to repeat what he said, in front of other people, at least. He narrowed his eyes at her.

"So don't say it. I'm an adult. I can say them." When she kept looking at him, he placed a hand on top of her head and —gently— turned her head back towards the TV screen, despite her protest. "Keep playing your game, Isabella. Or you can't sit on my lap anymore."

All Leon could hear was you attempting to muffle your laughter, but he could hear your giggles loud and clear. He only rolled his eyes, but he had a tiny smile of his own.

"C'mon don't laugh, being a parent is hard. Are you the one teaching her this no-no bull— B.S?" He caught himself, closing his eyes when you laughed even more, now not even bothering to hide it.

"I have to! I have a swear jar, I'm sorry. I gotta set an example."

He actually laughed at this, remembering the mouth you had on you when he had you on his bed.

"Yeah, well, you weren't so pure and innocent when you were screaming—" He caught himself again, his own eyes widening when he remembered Isabella was right there and he sighed out softly. "Give me an hour and I'll give you the answer you deserve, Miss."

You stayed quiet for a second, not because he offended you, but because you needed a second to breathe and control the heat that flashed between your legs at his insinuation. You exhaled deeply before responding.

"You're what again? Playing Switch with Izzy?

Leon hummed in response. "She is. She's sitting on my lap so I'm being forced to watch."

"I'm not forcing you!"

"On your game, Isabella. Stop listening to my conversation."

"Does she have her own Switch or something?" You asked, now sitting on the edge of your bathtub as hot water poured from the faucet.

"No. It's my Switch. But I leave it in the living room so she can play sometimes." He answered you with a shrug you obviously couldn't see.

You chuckled softly, "How old are you again?"

"Thirty-eight, but that's besides the point. I barely have time to use the thing. I mostly bought it for Izzy." He wasn't lying— entirely. He sometimes played, late at night by himself when he wanted to drown himself in a bottle of whiskey. He would choose to play a game to blow off steam instead of getting drunk with his little girl sleeping in the next room or passing out drunk at some shitty bar.

"I'm very convinced by that." You snorted, making him sigh out at you.

"Hmph. Whatever. You wouldn't understand how cathartic throwing green turtle shells at tiny cars can be."

"Oh I bet."

"Daddy?" You heard Isabella's voice through the phone and your heart warmed.

Leon looked down at Izzy, "Yeah?"

"Who are you talking to?" She asked with genuine curiosity, her very glorious race tournament now over and her attention was on him.

He heard you go silent, most likely having heard the little girl and he sighed out, his eyes landing up on the ceiling for a second as he thought of his answer.

"Just a friend, bee." He ultimately decided on that answer. It wasn't that he was ashamed of being with you, not at all, but Izzy was still young, and even he knew there had to be a proper introduction of you outside of your teacher role. He actually wanted to do this the right way.

"You fuck my brains out last week and I'm just a friend now?" He heard you comment in his ear and he groaned out.

"C'mon, that's not fair." He leaned back into the couch, his forearm over his eyes now as he basically had two women all over him, pressing him with way too many questions for his liking.

"I'm just giving you a hard time, Leon. I get it." There was humor in your voice, lightheartedness and even though he couldn't see you, he had a feeling you had that gentle smile on your lips. That eased the pressure on his chest.

"Listen sweetheart, it's almost Izzy's bedtime," His eyes were on Izzy now, and with his eyes he was nudging at her to start wrapping up her game. She pouted, but didn't otherwise fuss. "Call you in an hour?"

You both had this dumb, lovesick smile on your face, if only you could see the other.

"I'll be up."

The warm water, the foaming body wash and the intoxicating smell of your favorite candle had done wonders to relax you. When you left the bathtub you felt like a whole new person. Though there still this tug of butterflies in your stomach as you anxiously waited for Leon to call you.

You sat on the edge of the tub, warm and fluffy robe wrapped around your naked body as you mindlessly scrolled through your social media for a little while before you decided to check out for the night. You nearly slipped right off the tile when your phone buzzed and you felt a cold shiver run down your spine.

"Hey, sorry about, y’know, earlier. Izzy and I are like that." You smiled at the sound of Leon's voice, now a bit hushed but more relaxed and carefree, like he now could say whatever the fuck he wanted.

"It's okay. It was cute, hearing how you talk to her. You're sweet." You smiled to yourself, and you could hear him breathe out a soft laugh, most likely a bit flustered by your words, but he otherwise didn't show it. "You put her to sleep though?"

"Yeah, I stayed with her 'til she fell asleep. I'm in my bedroom now, about to take a shower." He said the words slowly, with purpose, like he wanted you to think about it like he had been thinking about you, taking that bath. "So, you take your bath yet?"

"Yeah, it was nice. I definitely needed it. I could've used some company though." You bit your lip, testing his reaction. There was silence, then he hummed.

"Yeah? That so?" Now it was your turn to hum in agreement, your legs instinctively closing as you tried to soothe the ache between your thighs. "I'm sure you could've. Would've been nice to have someone hold you, right? Have someone leave kisses on your wet skin, say how good you're doing while getting your pretty pussy fingered?"

You couldn't hold back the moan that left your throat at his words, and your free hand instantly traveled down, stopping at your belly.

"Oh, that's a sound I'll never get tired of hearing. Fuck, you're already moaning for me and I'm not even there to give you a reason." He exhaled out a chuckle, his hardening cock starting to press against his sweatpants.

"Fuck, I really wish you were here." You sighed out, your hand itching closer towards your already wet cunt, but you knew it wasn't your touch you ached for. It was Leon's.

"Yeah? Why's that?"

You whined softly, your phone almost slipping off your grip as your head fell to the side. "Leon…"

"Tell me."

"Because… I really, really, need you to touch me, hold me, ugh— I just need you to fuck me, Leon."

Leon clenched his fist as his side, teeth digging into his bottom lip as he listened to your desperate words, and the sound shot straight to his cock. Fuck, he'd be lying if he said he didn't need you, too.

"Goddamn baby," He grunted softly, his hand now brushing the front of his sweats, where his cock strained against the material, and he tried to muffle the sound between his teeth, but you heard it anyway. "You have no fucking idea how much I've been wanting to ruin that pussy of yours again. It's actually driving me crazy."

You shuddered, the ache between your legs starting to become unbearable. "I really want to see you too, baby."

Leon closed his eyes, biting his lip raw as he thought fuck it. He could explain in the morning.

"Fuck it, just fuck it. Wanna take the drive here? I swear I'll give you exactly what you need and it'll be so worth it."

You'd like to think you were a rational person, you always thought things through twice, three times if necessary. You didn't take risks, much less acted in a way that could be considered immoral, but for Leon? Fuck, for that man you would become the biggest whore in this world if it meant he would take you just one more time.

"Be there in thirty."

Fuck it.

Sneak peek of A Love Game Part II, coming soon

His lips were hard on your own, messy on your jaw, like he didn't know which part he wanted to kiss more. Your fingers were entangled in his perfectly soft honey brown strands, already melting under his touch. His hand came up under your jaw to grip your face in place, long fingers sprawled out over your neck. He pulled you back by your face and his eyes were hard on you, with this mixture of authority and utter need to fuck you. He could be both.

"This is how this is gonna be. I'm going to throw you on that bed and fuck you the way you deserve. But I better not hear a single fucking sound leave those pretty lips of yours. Not tonight. Got it?"

Stay tuned for upcoming parts lovelies. Besitos<3

#leon s kennedy #leon s kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy smut #leon s kennedy x fem!reader #leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x fem reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy smut #single!dad!leon #di!leon #single!dad!leon universe

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beautifuldisaster88 · 3 months

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Pairing: Boyfriend!Rafe Kook!Girlfriend

Summary: Rafe has been in a relationship with his best friend, Topper's, younger sister for four years. When Rafe reluctantly decides to agree to letting his girlfriend go to a party with Topper, without Rafe, he makes Topper swear to not let her out of her sight. When Topper doesn't follow through with the promise, Rafe receives a call that he never wanted to receive.

Warnings: mentions of drugs and alcohol, mentions of almost rape, slight mention of violence. I think that's about it. Reader is female, but no mention of Y/N or readers name just the pet names Rafe calls her.

A/N: This is not proofread, so I apologize in advance for any mistakes. I wrote this in like 15 minutes, after it randomly came to me... Like half my writing 😂 there's no smut in this. FYI, for this little piece, Rafe is 21 and reader is 18.

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Rafe angrily slammed open the door and came barging in, veins popping out and huffing. Topper opened his mouth to say something but was quickly cut off by Rafe putting his hand up.

"Don't." Rafe seethed, shaking his finger in Topper's face. His jaw clenched and his usual piercing blue eyes were full of rage. "Just tell me where the fuck my girlfriend is!"

"In her bedroom with Sarah. Look man, I fucked up and I'm sorry. I let her out of my sight for like 20 maybe 30 minutes." Topper began, his words only adding fire to Rafe's already burning rage. His mind kept playing back to the phone conversation he'd had earlier with his girlfriend. A call that will forever haunt his mind.

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~Hours Earlier~

Rafe was relaxing on the couch, watching some movie that his girlfriend had been going on about for weeks. Of course, Rafe being Rafe, he just rolled his eyes saying how you couldn't pay him to watch another fucking chick flick. Yet, here he was, home alone, snuggling with his girlfriend's favorite soft and fuzzy black blanket that had little cherries printed on it, loving how it smelled just like his girlfriend.

He'd never admit it, but he was really into the movie, finding himself getting invested in the relationships and friendships and all the drama. The sound of his phone vibrating beside him made Rafe side eye the phone, his brows furrowed together when he saw his girlfriend's face on the screen and her nickname 'Bunny❤️‍🔥'. It's not that he wasn't happy to see her calling because he was.

The problem was, his girlfriend was supposed to be out having fun with her older brother, Topper, who also happened to be Rafe's best friend. Rafe had business to take care of and wouldn't have been able to make it to the party until late, which is why Topper swore he'd keep an eye on her. Rafe told his girlfriend to call him if there was any trouble, and made Topper to promise to bring her back to Tannyhill after the party. Seeing her name on his phone instantly had Rafe regretting to ever agree to let his girlfriend go to a party without him.

"Is everything okay, bunny?" Rafe asked, trying to hide the concern in his voice. His knuckles were already turning white from gripping the side of the couch.

"R-Rafey.." His girlfriend slurred her words on the other end of the phone, sounding completely out of it. "I don't feel good... Make it stop spinning.. c-can't find you.. Rafey..."

"Baby? What did you take and where the hell is Topper!?" Rafe flew up off the couch, pacing back and forth as he ran his hand over his buzz cut out of habit. He was already seeing red, his girl was in trouble and he wasn't there to protect her. Damnit, why the fuck did he agree to letting her go without him!? This is why he doesn't let her go to parties without him. People are fucking irresponsible enough and when you add drugs and alcohol, they become fucking idiots.

"Topper... Dunno... h-he went upstairs with Sarah.. so sleepy, Rafey... J-just gonna take a nap." His girlfriend's words were even more slurred, causing Rafe to panic.

He was out the door in a flash, running to his truck. After jerking the door open and hopping inside, he fumbled trying to get the key in the ignition. "Fuck!" He yelled, hitting the steering wheel before trying again. The engine roared to life and Rafe took off like a bat out of hell, connecting his phone to the Bluetooth.

"Listen to me, baby. I need you to stay awake, yeah. I'm coming for you, just focus on my voice, okay, bunny? I ne-"

Rafe was cut off by the sound of a male's voice and he knew damn well it wasn't Topper's.

"Well, well, well. What do we have here? Damn, you are really fucked up ain't ya, darlin'. Don't worry I'mma take real good care of you, baby." The male said, making Rafe's blood run cold and then begin to boil. He yelled his girlfriend's name over and over, but got no response. All he heard were her weak calls and begging the guy to get his hands off of her, before the call ended.

"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" Rafe screamed, pounding his fists against the steering wheel.

He had to get to his girlfriend immediately. Shit, he forgot where Topper said the party was at. This could not be happening. Not his girlfriend, anyone but his bunny.

Just as Rafe was about to call Topper, his best friends name popped up on the screen in the middle console of Rafe's truck. Rafe immediately answered it, yelling at Topper.

"You fucking swore you wouldn't let her out of your fucking sight, Top! What the fuck is wrong with you!? Where the fuck are you guys!? I just received the worst fucking call of my life! My girlfriend, your fucking sister, Topper is completely out of it and who the fuck knows what someone slipped her! Wanna hear the worst fucking part!? Some asshole thinks he can take advantage of MY girlfriend! I swear I'm going to fucking kill him!"

"Rafe, look I know, I fucked up and I feel awful. Trust me, man. I've got her, she's with me and Sarah and I'm taking her home. I walked in just in time, that asshole didn't touch her. I-I can't believe I let my baby sister almost get..." Topper couldn't even finish his sentence, feeling the bile threaten to come up.

"I'll deal with you tomorrow. Right now, I need to make sure my girl is okay. I'm on my way to your place." Rafe ended the call, driving as fast as he could towards the Thornton residence.

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Rafe took one big step, putting his face in Topper's. "I don't want to hear your fucking excuses! The one fucking time I trust you to keep her safe when I'm not there, and this shit happens! You're lucky I don't fucking kill you, Top. Like I said, I'll deal with you tomorrow. My girl needs me, not you or my fucking sister."

Rafe pushed past Topper, purposely slamming into his shoulder as he ran up the stairs. Opening his girlfriend's bedroom door, he immediately glared at Sarah, clenching his jaw and balling up his fist. "Out." Was all he said, earning a few sorry's from his sister, which made him scoff.

As soon as Sarah left, Rafe locked the bedroom door behind her. His heart wrenched at the sight of his beautiful angel, seeing her smeared mascara from crying. He immediately walked over to the bed and climbed in beside her, wrapping his arms around his girlfriend and pulling her against his chest.

"I'm so sorry that I wasn't there to protect you, bunny. I promise, this shit will never happen again. Tonight was the first and last time you go to a party without me. I've never been as scared as I was tonight. The thought of you being hurt, and another man putting his grimy hands and shit on you... Fuck, I'm never going to forgive myself. I'm sorry, baby. I love you, you know that right?"

She shifted in his arms, turning to face Rafe. Taking one of her small hands, she placed it on the side of his face, her bloodshot eyes staring into Rafe's ocean blue eyes. A soft smile formed on her perfect plump lips. "Hey, look at me." She spoke softly and Rafe looked into her eyes, leaning into her soft and warm touch. "Don't you dare blame yourself. None of this is your fault. Someone must have slipped something into my drink, but Topper found me in time and forced me to throw up. Rafe, I would never blame you. I know that you love me, and I love you. Don't worry, I never want to go anywhere without you again."

Rafe chuckled, feeling a bit more relieved. He placed a kiss on her forehead, then both her cheeks, the tip of her nose, and finally her lips. It was crazy, how his whole world fit perfectly in his arms. Sure, he had everything and lived in a mansion, but if you asked Rafe Cameron where home was to him, he'd answer with the same answer he'd given the last four years... his girlfriend. All the money, the power, everything that Rafe had, none of it meant anything, not if he didn't have her by his side. She was without a doubt, the calm to his storm, a true angel. She was his, and he would always protect her at all costs.

It goes without saying that as soon as Rafe found out who the guy was that tried to take advantage of his girlfriend, went 'missing' two weeks later. Nobody messes with his girl and gets away with it.

#rafe cameron #rafe obx #rafe outer banks #drew starkey #he's so fucking hot #that should be me #boyfriend material #protective boyfriend #obx #rafe x reader

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sp0o0kylights · 1 year

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Someone on Twitter proposed Steve and Gareth as cousins whose family had a major falling out, and then someone else brought it up recently and long story short no idea who to credit the idea too bc you can’t search for SHIT on Twitter but it's theirs not mine.

Anyway I wrote a lil thing as a warmup

PART TWO

"Why don't you come sit with Hellfire?" Gareth asked, angrily leaned against the bathroom wall while Steve fixed his hair.

He'd tried not to cling since he entered high school. Tried to keep things on the downlow, least any gossipy mouths started running.

It was so stupidly, needlessly, hard.

His cousin was only two years ahead of him but they'd spent the last year in different schools because of it.

That year, and the lack of Steve's presence in it, had grated. Now that he finally had Steve back, Gareth was loathe to play by the rules.

"Sit with you and Eddie, "the freak" Munson? I'll pass." Steve said, but there was no bite in it.

That, Gareth knew, was because Steve was using Eddie as an excuse.

"You'd like Eddie if you spent five minutes with him, King Steve." Gareth fired back on automatic. His fingers dug into his arms, as he resisted the urge to pace around the bathroom floor.

Unspoken was all the shit that had taken place.

Steve and Nancy's breakup. The rumor mill in overdrive, first about how Jonathan Byers had taken creep shot photos of them, then about how he'd taken his shot with Nancy herself.

The supposed cheating, the public fights, the crazy background of Jonathan's little brother being missing.

Billy Hargrove beating Steve to a pulp.

Now friendless, Steve had thoroughly fallen from his place at the tippy top of the social hierarchy and between his utter lack of friends and his shit tier parents, Gareth was concerned.

"You do not want me to sit with you, Gary. I'd tell all your little friends that you're apart of the royal family." Steve turned, making an exaggerated face. "How's Munson feel about cozying up to a Prince?"

"I'd technically be an Earl, Steve, not a prince." Gareth grumbled.

He got an eye roll in response. "Somehow I don't think he'll care."

"I do though." Gareth blurted out, absolutely thoughtless.

Steve blinked at him.

"What?" He said.

In for a penny right?

"I care." Gareth said, looking down and scuffing a shoe, making it squeak against the grimy tiles. "About you. You dick."

"Wow Gary you almost sounded loving there."

For once, he ignored the jab. "I'm worried about you, man." He said it quietly, the painful truth pulled out of him almost by force.

He knew better than anyone how few people Steve had. Knew how his dad was likely taking all the crap Steve had been involved in lately.

Richard Harrington hadn't been the wedge that had separated his and Steve's mother, but the man hadn't done them any favors, either.

His intolerance towards the working and lower classes, his demand for perfection, the way he looked down his nose not just on Gareth's parents but on his own wife and son…

Gareth's mom didn't tolerate it.

Likewise, Stella Harrington didn't tolerate her sister ruining her shot at being a rich trophy wife.

Both their sets of parents were dramatic and neither of them weren't anywhere near the concept of "good" but at least Gareth's weren't neglectful and abusive.

Shitty absolutely, but he never worried about getting thrown out, or that his mom wouldn't acknowledge his birthday because he'd "complimented her outfit the wrong way."

(”It's fine dude she just thought I called her ugly. It was a miscommunication. Dad said it's a good lesson about how women work."

"Casual reminder that your dad's an asshole and also how is telling your mom that she looked lovely in the sunlight telling her she's ugly?”

“It implied she wasn't lovely the rest of the time or some shit, I dunno man.”)

The BMW was a shitty prize when compared what Steve had dealt with to receive it.

"I'm okay." Steve said seriously. "It's almost the end of the year anyways. I can tough out having some extra alone time."

"If you're sure…"

"Yeah man, I'm sure. Thanks though."

Then Steve pulled him into a hug and fuck their parents, who demanded they continued some stupid grudge. Gareth clung to him just as hard as he had at ten. Unsure if he'd ever be allowed to see Steve again.

#steve harringtons shitty parents #steve harrington #gareth #gareth emerson #my beloved lil side character #steve and gareth as secret cousins #SECRET COUSSSIIINS #steve whump #0o0 fanfics

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stillnotyourmusebitch · 2 months

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I can’t stop thinking of demon! Adam going through development and reaching the point of like,, doing something nice without anyone telling him to do it, purely for the sake of doing it. Something he never would have done before. Even if it’s something as small as sitting down with you while you’re watching your favorite movie or show and not shitting on it the whole time, just to keep you company. Or something like that. I dunno. I’m just a sucker for slow burn subtextual romance.

THAT, and the reader seeing his face beneath the mask, looking him the eyes, and smiling a little. Even if they say nothing. I feel like that would stick with him.

Exactly. Demon!Adam lives in my head rent free now. I know this weren't a request of sorts but I kinda wrote something for this

random ficlet below

Demon!Adam x GN!reader (Fluff)

DemonSinner!Adam is something that plays on my mind a lot. He still doesn’t believe in the whole redemption shit that Charlie is laying down but if it gets him a glimpse of seeing heaven again he is willing to try.

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Adam was bored and needed something to do that would put off the inevitable “therapy” session with Lucifer’s brat later. So that must be why he finds himself outside your room. He knocks lightly on your door. You didn’t answer, he knocked again louder this time. Still no answer. So he opens the door and peers in.

“Hey errr (Y/n) Charlie asked me to check on you.” A blatant lie but he won’t tell you that.

He sees you’re watching TV.

“Huh? What no shitty nickname this time?” You mumbled around a mouthful of popcorn. Adam walks over and flops down on the couch next to you.

“Oh yeah, nah I didn’t really feel like it.” He grabs a handful of your popcorn.

You quirk a brow.

“Also Charlie said nooo giving nicknames to people that demean them and also who don’t want it and people were given names to be used blah blah blah.” He shoves the popcorn into his mouth. “So what are we watchin?”

“I'm watching a movie I really like so if you're staying either shut up or fuck off.” You sink back into your blanket cocoon.

*10 minutes later*

“What the fuck! This guy clearly likes her but she goes for the other bozo. Is she blind . . . . as well as ya know hot.”

You choke on your drink. You didn’t think that this would be his kinda thing but here he was emotionally invested in the film you had picked. You had really wanted to just wallow in your depression by binge watching trashy romcoms but what was really making you feel better was watching the ‘dickmaster’ himself rooting for the underdog to open up about his feelings to the lead woman.

You go to grab some popcorn but see the bowl is empty.

“Gotta pause.” You go to stand but he stops you.

“I got this.” He hides the good deed by quickly saying “And I need to piss anyway.” You pass him the bowl.

“Not in the popcorn I hope.” You rearrange yourself back in your blanket burrito.

“HAA, You nasty but don’t watch without me. Coz that is a dick move.”

“You know all about those.” You mutter into the blanket. But Adam had gone to the hotel kitchen to make popcorn.

You chose to scroll on your phone until he got back. There were a few messages but you didn’t really feel like answering them. You flop on your side. You can always move when he came back.

While you waited in silence for Adam. You think back on how he really was getting better. After seeing him slowly open up to Charlie’s ideas and seeing that he can be a good guy when it suits him. You smile to yourself.

Your door slams open.

“Okay I’m back bitch.”

Nevermind looks like he has thrown up his walls again.

He lays out the armful of snacks and the bowl of popcorn that looks way bigger than the bowl he left with. He sees you on your side.

“You comfy down there?”

You groan and slowly sit up again. He sits back down but wraps an arm around you and hugs you into his side and nothing more.

“Okay we can continue now.” He grabs the popcorn and rests it on his lap.

You set the movie going again and snuggle just a little bit closer. For popcorn reasons of course not that Adam was nice and warm and you felt safe next to him.

“Clearly she don’t know a good thing when she sees it.” You pipe up after about three minutes into the film again. You had seen this film so many times but there was one scene that always brought out annoyance in you.

“Right!! She needs to open her eyes this guy clearly loves her for who they are and not some fake ass bs that other . . . what?” Adam stops mid-sentence looking down at you resting against his chest.

You blink a few times before realising you are staring “Huh oh nothing.”

You focus back on the screen in front of you.

The climatic end of the film was approaching and the main lead were confessing their love and as the credits role you can here someone crying. You glance up and see Adam wiping away tears.

“You okay.” You sit up and reach for the tissues on the table to hand them to him.

“What!!! I’m fine. Of course I’m fiiiine. Shut up bitch.” He grabs the tissue box from you.

“If it helps I cried the first time I watched this movie.” You wrap the blankets tighter around yourself.

“I . . . ah . . shit.” He saw you curling further in on yourself. He feels guilt crawling into his stomach. “Sorry, I’m . . .Ugh. Look I’m bad at these feel your feelings crap that Charlie spouts. But it was a good film and yeah I cried but . . .”

“It don’t make you any less of a man.”

“Yeeeah I know. Of course I know. I’m the first man.”

“Huh back to that are we.” You bump shoulders with him, making him laugh.

He pulls you back into his side “So what are we watching now?”

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I really didn't mean for this to be as long as it was. I'm sorry

#jamie replies #sleeplessdreamer14 #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel adam #adam hazbin hotel #hazbin adam x reader #hazbin adam #gender neutral reader #sinner!adam #adam x reader #i dunno why i'm taggin it this way #hazbin hotel x reader

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whoahoney · 1 year

Text

Eddie from Chili’s

Waiter!Eddie x Shy!reader

A/N: based off my experience with a super cute waiter I wrote about here. 😭 and no I haven’t been back yet! I still might, idk. But here’s this!!

Rip me + cole 4ever

Warnings: fluff, slight angst, shy!reader, fem!reader

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You stood in front of the restaurant, smoothing down the front of your open corduroy shirt, questioning the little black strappy top you wore underneath.

It had been a month since you’d been here last and you’d hoped to God he’d recognize you now that you were alone and looked nicer.

During your previous visit to the bar and grill, you had the pleasure of having the hottest guy seat you—and your mother— and you hoped he wouldn’t be your server due to the fact you wore your dingiest shoes and a mustard plaid flannel with a gray Nirvana shirt. Not to mention your hair had passed its expiration date by three days.

“I’ll be right back with your drinks.” He’d said after taking your order.

He towered over you, his black shirt fitting him in all the right places while exposing his heavily inked arms— skulls and mythical creatures flowed up and down his arms as if shrouded in smoke. You wondered how long it took and how badly it hurt as you dropped your bag in the space next to you and slid into the booth.

His eyes were deep golden brown and had thick lashes to frame them, and they were set on you after flickering over your being and saying, “—and in case you need anything, don’t be afraid to grab me, my name's Eddie.” He lingered for a moment longer before turning his shoulders towards the kitchen across the bar and you could’ve swore he winked on his way past, successfully stunning you to your core.

He returned with drinks after giving you ample time to look over the menu, spending his free time leaning over the counter to talk to the bartender who appeared to be his buddy, chuckling and exchanging slightly degrading comments as the older women in the booth behind you exchanged risqué quips about the two of them.

He’d placed the drinks on the coasters carefully before bringing his hands together in front of him, shifting his weight slightly, “Would you like to order an appetizer? Or do you need more time?” He looked at you and you looked at your mom like a helpless thirteen year old. She nodded at you to speak with a pleasant smile on her face.

You swallowed at your dry throat, “We need another minute, please.” You fought to keep your eyes on his as you spoke but they kept falling down the table or away from his face. He had to have known the effect he had on you.

“No worries!” He said brightly and drummed his hands on the table before going back into the kitchen.

You groaned to yourself and try to focus on the menu, the words suddenly too overwhelming to comprehend. There were so many. And all so close together!

“What are you getting, dear?” Your mother asked, “I’m getting chips and salsa, and the sirloin!” She beamed looking down at the menu.

“Uh. The, uh.” You shake your head, “I dunno.”

“Do you need me to order for you?” She asks, concerned, noticing your state.

“—No.” you answered firmly. “I just can’t figure out what I want, I’m just not hungry right now.”

“Get the chicken pasta, you like that!” She assured before nodding as the cute waiter approached again.

“Are we ready?” He asked with a smile, looking between the two of you before resting his warm brown eyes on yours. You were seated by the window on a bright overcast day, the warm light of the lamp hanging over your table cast him in a golden glow and you couldn’t help but nod and forget every word you’ve ever known in the English language.

You turn and look at your mom for help and nod at her, “You go.”

“We’ll take the chips and salsa, with queso too, and I’ll have the sirloin, medium rare, with the broccoli and potatoes.” She said, giving him enough time to write between each item, like everyone should. She handed him the menu and looked at you as he did.

Suddenly the light was blinding and you looked down to the menu to discover you still couldn’t read the fucking words on the folder before you. “I’ll have the chicken fingers. Four of them.” You cringe.

“… four orders? Like.. 16?” He schools his face as your face drains of any color and then fills back up with magenta, probably.

“Just the four, please.” You recover.

“And do you want fries with that?” He smiled with a teasing lilt to his voice, your lips twitch up at the corners much to your dismay.

“Yes, please.” You nearly grit out of your clenched jaw.

He barely glanced down at his pad as the pen scratched across it. “Alright. I’ll get that in for ya!” And he disappeared again.

“I think I know what’s going on.” Your mother mused as she gazed at the dessert menu.

You blanch and swallow again, “No, mom.”

“Oh, now I know I’m right.”

“No, you’re not.” You insisted.

“Do I need to ask him if he’s single?”

“Please no.”

“Well you oughta know that boy has been making eyes at you this whole time.” Your mother leaned forward to utter between you.

You sharply inhale at the thought of him looking at you the way he did. “I can’t think thoughts when I look at him, mom.” You whine as you sink into your seat. “It doesn’t help I look like a twelve year old today.” You ran your hands down your makeupless face.

“Well when you sit like that you look about 4, and he’s headed this way so you better get up.” She warned.

You shoot up in your seat and clear your throat, preparing to say thank you.

Eddie appeared with the basket of chips and cups of dip, lingering again as your mom plucked up a chip and scooped up some queso, “Is there anything else I can get for you?” He said only to you.

You wait for your mom to answer, but her mouth is full so you shake your head no, “No, thank you.” You say, sharper than you meant to. Eddie nods and gives a tight smile before walking back to the kitchen.

Between the time it had taken Eddie to get the order in and the chef to cook it to perfection and send it back your way, the women behind you began ordering more and more drinks, getting louder with their advances when the bartender helped Eddie deliver food to his tables.

“Aww, what a good friend!” One drawled as she accepted her plate.

“We’re actually brothers.” The bartender affirmed, his hair shaved short as opposed to Eddie’s long dark curls.

The women gasped and you turned your head to the side, noticing Eddie shyly putting his hands in his pockets as his brother clapped him on the shoulder once the food was served.

“So how are y’all related?” Another asked.

Eddie gave his brother the side eye, “… our mom and dad?”

The women cackled at themselves, crooning about how they should’ve known they were brothers by their good looks and sweet dimples. You nibbled on a chip as the brothers proved their parentage by pulling out their licenses when one of them claimed disbelief.

“Well you’re a good brother!” One of the women gushed to the bartender as Eddie made long steps to the kitchen, his brother lingering at the table and soaking up the attention as he picked up their empty glasses, “Oh, I’m just helping him out cause he’s working til midnight tonight.”

Suddenly he was back, a blur of black and white as he approached the table with the platter of your food. He handed your mothers to her and set your basket on the table in front of you before you had the chance to reach out, giving you a quiet warning about the plate being hot.

“Is there anything else I can get you?” He asked you, again. This time your mom didn’t have food in her mouth as he waited for your answer, “Could I get some ketchup?” You suddenly ask.

Eddie’s ears perked and he reached across the table to grab the red bottle by the window, opening the top and squirting a generous helping on the side of your plate. You look up at him dumbfounded and embarrassed, swallowing before uttering, “I'm sorry, thank you.” You burned in the cheeks again.

He smiled smugly before setting the bottle down, “No worries. Let me know if there’s anything else I can get for you.” He said before walking back into the kitchen again.

You exhale deeply and rest your hand on your forehead, “Oh my god.”

Your mother cuts her steak and takes a bite, “He’s good at his job.” She shrugged.

“I freaking know.” You whined again. “I can’t even eat.”

“Don’t worry about it, just get a box later.”

You picked at your food until Eddie stopped back by when your mothers plate was empty. He took her plate and asked, “Are you feeling dessert? Lava cake?” He asked between you both as your mother gazed at the dessert menu yet again.

“Mmm… Yes! Let’s have a lava cake!” She nodded. “Can we get two spoons?”

“—oh, I don’t want any, mom.” You shook your head.

“You sure?” She asked, Eddie looked at you as if to ask the same thing.

You look at both of them and nod, “Yeah—yeah, I’m sure.”

Eddie nodded at you with soft eyes, “Alright, well, is there anything else I can get for you?” He asked you, a lilt to his voice.

“A to-go box, please.” You muster, keeping your gaze focused this time on one of his beautiful eyes. He smiles and nods, checking on his other tables on his way to the kitchen.

You couldn’t help but notice his time was shorter at other tables. He was prompt, kind, cool and collected. He had a way with people that put them at ease— except you.

He returned to the table with your empty box, the dessert, and a leather bound check— handing both to you.

He handed your mother the plate with two spoons, despite your request, then tapped a ringed finger on the surface next to you.

His body was angled towards yours, as if to show you he was asking you, and you only, “Is there anything else I can get for you before I go out on my break?” He leaned on his hand, his head dipping towards his shoulder as he clicked the pen in his free hand.

You swallowed again and took a quivering breath as your gaze raked down his frame one last time and you shook your head, “No, thank you.”

“A-Are you sure?” He pressed, clicking his pen almost nervously as he waited for your response.

“Mhm!” You said with a closed mouth smile as you dumped your chicken fingers into the box.

He smiled tensely before he nodded and walked away, less hustle in his step as he dug in his back pocket for his cigarettes and disappeared through the kitchen doors for the final time.

The interaction has haunted you since.

You were a grown woman! How dare he take up this sort of residency in your mind—over something as stupid as a one time interaction.

Eddie the waiter with his big stupid brown eyes and his easy going facade. You bet it’s all fake anyway, there was no way anyone was that charming without any effort!

He’s in service, it’s his job to be nice and appealing! Who’s to say he wasn’t just smooth and doing it for kicks and tips!

But you did notice the way his brother tended to the rest of his tables in his absence, as if he’d waited for only you to finish before going on his break.

You replayed the moment he may or may not have winked at you in your mind a thousand times, feeling so pathetic as you wished for him to do it again.

After much convincing from your friends— and mother— you decided you’d come back, alone.

And this time you’d put more effort into your appearance, your makeup flawlessly done and deciding to wear your favorite outfit, complete with your best ass hugging jeans. Your hair was washed and styled, loose curls framed your face and your perfume was your best; not too strong, and fresh yet warm.

It is 1pm on a Friday afternoon, the same time and day you’d come last time, hoping he’d be scheduled to work today.

And with a deep breath in, you yank open the door and walk inside.

Part 2

#honey wrote #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson au #Eddie munson modern au #waiter!eddie munson #modern!eddie munson

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undercovercameron · 1 year

Text

same person, same mistakes

summary: coming home from college, you see the boy you never wanted to; and he's the same as he always was.

notes: i just wrote this literally so quick it was magical... there is rough sex, cheating, a semi-choking kink (as always), and mentions of drug use and literal alcohol use in this one! i'm also yet again noticing a pattern.... what is with me and bathroom sex? anyways i hope you people enjoy! consider this a favor, i'm preparing you all for rafe to have a love interest

tags: rafe cameron x reader

word count: 2929

When you walked into the country club that night, you made a beeline for the bar. Your first year of college had not been treating you well, and you needed a drink. A strong one at that.

Your favorite bartender, a red-headed woman named Joey, was working that night. She made you a vodka soda just like how you liked ‘em: more vodka than soda and a shit ton of lime. An underage-drinking staple. But hey, you were only two years away from legality. It wasn’t that bad.

You drank it with your younger brother Landon by your side at the bar, watching him refresh Twitter for the status reports of the hockey game happening tonight.

“You want the NHL, Landon?” Joey asked, wiping up a ring of perspiration with a black rag at the now-empty tabletop to his right. “I can change it.”

“Yes, Joey, thank you,” Landon sighed, pocketing his phone, and swiveled around in his chair towards the TV mounted beside the bar. “Hey,” he said abruptly, and you hummed curiously in response. “Rafe is here.”

You crunched down onto the ice cube in your mouth, the easy smile on your lips hardening.

“Who is he with?” You ask, not turning to look, and focus in on the stack of paper coasters next to the mixing pads.

“Dunno. Some girl. She has black hair.”

The grip on your drink tightens.

“Nice,” you say through gritted teeth, gaze never wavering from the coasters.

Yes, Rafe Cameron had a girlfriend. She was some hotshot golfer from Northern Carolina. You saw her in your communications lecture sometimes, sitting in the front row next to her posse of badly self-tanned girls with shining smiles and alcohol problems. She had sat next to you on the first day, passing you the syllabus with a snarky look on her face, and you had decided to hate her right then and there. It was a simple hatred, nothing personal, but when she came back to the Outer Banks with Rafe’s hand in hers, it got personal.

Rafe was your highschool fling. He used to pick you up from school in his truck and you’d go out to the lighthouse or the beach by his house or his grandparents' summer home fifteen minutes away to hang out, have sex, or smoke. Usually all three. You two dated for nearly 10 months starting at the first semester of your senior year, and then he decided to break it off and focus on being a good son and good employee of his father’s. Whatever. Like he actually did anything of the sort— all he’d done while you were at college was hold his hand out to his father and snort coke with your hometown’s dealer.

And then he has a girlfriend. A beautiful girlfriend, but you’d never admit it. You wonder if she has a cocaine problem too.

You weren’t averse to drugs, no—in fact, you had a J with your breakfast nearly every day. But at least you weren’t dropping hundreds of dollars for fifteen minutes of a high every week. And at least you weren’t distracting yourself between the legs of a tall black-haired student athlete.

Maybe you were bitter.

“Two more,” says a breathless voice at the end of the bar, and you just let your eyes fall closed. Landon slaps at your arm without pulling his eyes from the TV, and you curse at him with a smack back. Asshole.

“Y/N?”

You breathe in through your nose. Okay. Don’t act like you recognize him.

You turn towards Rafe, a pleasantly blank look on your face, and purse your lips.

“Hi.”

“Hey.” His perfectly tan face splits in a grin, and he comes around the corner of the bar towards you two. “Hey, Landon.” He daps up your brother, that stupid look still on his face, and just stands and looks at you for a second. He puts his hands on his hips, and your gaze follows them for a second before moving back up to his face, whip-fast. You see him catch it, the corners of his lips tugging up further. He sighs. “I see the Xanax finally caught up to you.”

“Ha!” You blurt loudly, a mocking smile on your face, and you look down to your feet. “That’s actually pretty ironic, sweetheart. You’ve got a little something.” You look him in his eyes and wipe at your nostril. The grin drops from his face.

“Nice to see you again.” His tongue pushes at the spot between his teeth and his lip. “Just like old times. Still a bitch.”

“Still wasting your dad’s money.” You sip at your drink, lips around the straw. You catch him glance at them. Ha. Gotcha. “How’s, uh, Betsy King, over there?”

The black haired girl is sitting on the deck with her back to the bar, watching the hockey game on an outdoor TV. You watch her hair move in the wind for a moment, hating it.

“Easier than you, believe or not.” Rafe stares at you. You snort. This is fun, you suppose. Just like old times, like he said. Biting conversation and secret glances at each others’ mouths.

“Two whiskey sours?” Calls Joey from the end of the bar, eyebrows drawn when she doesn’t see her patron. Rafe glances back at you, chewing at his lip, but decides against whatever he was going to say. He just walks over and grabs his drinks and disappears back outside. You suck at the straw of your drink, coming up empty, and drop it onto the counter. Your head is buzzing. From the liquor, yes, but also from him. He makes you so angry—so stupidly and embarrassingly angry. That stupid face and stupid smile and stupid hair and stupid boat shoes.

“That was nice,” says Landon, still focused on the TV, but you see his head turn slightly when you sigh.

“Sorry.” You are, really. You’re supposed to be on your best behavior; it’s not every day your parents let you take your 16 year old brother to the country club to sit and watch you get drunker and drunker.

“Yeah.” He sounds annoyed, and you feel embarrassed.

You drain two more vodka sodas and call it a night. You spend your time staring at the array of liquors and mixers beneath you at the bar, making small talk with Joey about the island, and numbly watch the hockey players beat each other to death. Rafe comes back in for another drink an hour after your conversation, but you just ignore his eyes on your profile.

“I’m gonna go pee, and then we’ll leave.” You heave yourself off of the stool, wincing at your sore ass, and nearly stumble. Shit.

Landon says “okay”, eyes on his phone and texting, and you hobble towards the bathroom on steady feet. You avoid looking outside, knowing it will only aggravate you.

The bathroom door slams behind you, too heavy for its own good, and the motion sensor lights kick on. You pee, staring up at the ceiling, and try to will away the pounding in your head and rippling vision.

You scrub your hands after, desperate to rid them of the dirt and grime of your day, and try not to think about how you wish you could wash Rafe out of your life. You stare at yourself in the mirror with a paper towel between your hands.

The girl in the mirror looks tired. You poke a finger at a pimple on your forehead, frowning. You just sigh.

You turn towards the door and wrench it open, the smell of restaurant and something musky filling your nose before you step out, and you barely get a foot out the door. Two hands push at your abdomen, eerily familiar, and you stumble back into the bathroom with your eyebrows drawn in confusion.

Rafe clouds your vision and your smell, hard chest at eye-level, and he reaches behind him to lock the door.

You stare up at him, chest heaving and he looks down at you with those stormy eyes.

“You’re aggravating, you know that?” He says, sounding exasperated, and seizes your waist in one large hand, pulling you to him. His mouth finds yours, familiar, and you feel his fingers on your warm cheek. You hate to admit it but your heart thumps loudly in your chest when you taste him.

His other arm snakes around your hips and grabs at your ass. You fall into the hard counter of the sink vanity, and you hum pleasantly.

“What about—about her?” You barely pull away to say, breathless, and he just pulls you back to him with his with strong fingers entwined in your hair.

“Up,” he murmurs into your mouth, and you brace a hand on the sink and obey. He pushes between your legs and your arms wind around his neck. You just breathe each other in, blood pounding, pressed up against each other.

Your fingers find the hem of his shirt, and you push it up to feel his skin. He’s hot. Your fingers crawl up his abdomen and press to the center of his stomach, feeling it heave and push against your fingertips. He nearly flinches away at your cold fingers but is drawn closer when you make a noise into his mouth that reminds him of that time in the lighthouse where you had left with bruises around your neck and he with an ache in his hips. His hair is smooth when you drag a hand up to feel it, newly blunt and choppy. You like it all the same.

His body has grown and matured while you’ve been gone. His shoulders are stronger, bulkier, and when you feel the flesh of his stomach it feels more alive. Like he’s been moving and working hard while you were gone. Maybe he has been. With her.

You pull away at the thought. He chases you, fingers at your jaw, but you back up into the wall. He licks at his lips, a dangerous look in his eyes. He doesn’t like when he doesn’t get what he wants.

“What’s her name?” You ask. He removes himself from your grasp, backing away. He drags a hand through his hair. When his eyes meet yours, his eyebrows are drawn and his lips screwed up as he chews at his lip.

“Allison.”

“Do you love her?”

He barks out a laugh when you ask, hands pressed to the counter on either side of you, head bowed.

“Love? Are you insane?” He looks back up at you, shaking his head. He heart skips a beat when he thinks of you two in high school, and then he thinks he might be insane.

“Well, I’m currently in a family bathroom at the Island Club with you, so maybe.” You try a smile, but it falls when your eyes meet again. He thinks for a second.

“You’d be in here with me even if I was fucking married to that girl.” He watches your expression change from somber to disbelieving.

“You think?” Your eyebrows raise, incredulous, and watch as he nears you again and bows down to your eye level. You like to think you’re not the affair-woman. Well, you guess you might be.

“I know so. Why do you think I told your brother to get you to come tonight?” His lips curl into a smirk.

You just stare at him. Manipulative, psychotic, deranged, possessive. He’s all of the above and more. He slipped the idea into your goody-two-shoes 16 year old brother’s head to bring you to a bar and fuck him, and it makes your heart drop to your stomach.

You grab at the collar of his shirt and tug him down to you. Your mouths connect with a hot breath into his mouth, and you arch up into him. His hands find your lower back and he drags you further from the wall, letting you carefully slide on the granite and fall onto your back.

His large hands fumble with your pants, popping the buttons, and you crane your neck to watch as he tugs them down your legs, panties following with a slip of his thumb. He ducks to kiss you again and you hear his belt jingle. His fingers tug your shirt up and over your bra, and he grabs at a breast tightly as he jerks you down once more and pushes his dick into you.

You cry out, fingers on his cheekbone, and arch up into him. He just hums into your mouth, liking the feeling of your muscles straining around him, and it feels just as good as it used to. Just as beautiful as you’ve always been.

“Rafe,” you start, a breath caught in your throat. His nose brushes yours and he looks into your wide eyes. “Fuck me like you mean it.”

Rafe’s head falls, and he groans into your neck. Fuck, you’re so hot.

He grips your hips tight and pulls you away and then back, hips colliding with yours and prompting a pained noise from your mouth. He relishes in it.

He slaps a hand at the wall above your head, using it as tension, and his hips move along with yours like they’re supposed to. It’s an uncoordinated dance, soft flesh rippling against hard muscle, and he pants into your mouth with the strain.

“You feel so good,” he groans into your ear, and you squeeze around him in response. “Fuck.”

“Please,” you mumble, lips pressed haphazardly against his stubbly cheek. He smells so good. You curl an arm around his head, fingers brushing past his hair, and hold his head down by yours.

The bathroom is loud with breaths and the sounds your bodies make, lewd and hurried. He huffs into your neck when he feels a pinch in his back and adjusts you further from the wall quickly. Nearly your entire ass is hanging off of the edge, precarious, but you know he won’t let you drop. His fingers around your back fall and he pushes his hand between your legs, seeking what you know he’s always been good at paying attention to. His large thumb finds your clit immediately, strumming you open, and your head falls back.

“You’re on the pill still?” He asks, fingers tight, and you close your eyes.

“Implant,” you say, squeezing your eyes shut. “Fuck, Rafe,” you nearly cry, but slap a hand over your mouth. His thumb strokes you in quick circles, and you’re cumming onto him embarrassingly quickly. Your abdomen tenses and you curl up into him. You feel your legs warm and you tighten them around his back, wanting him deeper as you fade into pleasure.

He grins at that, but it fades when his eyes squeeze shut and he’s bowing to touch his forehead to your chest. He bites at the bunched-up material of your shirt and pushes himself as deep as possible—so far that you can feel the flesh of your stomach move. He cums into you then, the release washing over his whole body and coating him in a sheen, and he nearly collapses on top of you.

You two catch your breath, still connected, and he pants hot into your neck.

“Fuck.” You struggle to swallow, nearly choking on an inhale.

“Yeah.”

He rugs himself from you, wincing, and zips his pants back up. He offers you a hand and you take it, struggling to slide off of the counter and onto your shaky legs. He watches you slide your underwear back on, wiping his mouth, and enjoys the show. You get your pants back up but fumble with the button and zipper.

“I hate this,” you mumble, eyebrows furrowed, and just give up with a roll of your eyes.

“Here,” he half-chuckles, and easily zips you up and buttons you with nimble fingers. Fingers you know and love.

Wait.

Before you can think about that, he grabs your face in two hands and tilts you up to him, staring at your relaxed features. He admires you. And then he dips to kiss your mouth one final time, savoring how your lips move against him like they’re supposed to. Like they always have.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he whispers, breath cool on your lips, and you stare up at him with confused eyes.

“What’s tomorrow?”

“I’ll come over.” He shrugs, and reaches to unlock the door. It swings open, and he sweeps a hand to gesture for you to leave first. You pass the threshold, patting down your hair, and lock eyes with Allison when you emerge from the cove that has the entrance to the kitchen and the bathrooms. She looks confused.

Guilt washes over your body, making your blood prickle at your skin, and you swallow. You walk straight past her piercing gaze, feeling Rafe pass you and go straight for the deck. You grab your jacket from next to Landon and feel for the keys.

“Let’s go,” you say to your brother, voice quiet, and he nods. He follows you as you exit through the side door, heading for your parent’s SUV. You toss him the keys when you get to the passenger door and he secretly and silently fist pumps.

“Did you talk to Rafe?”

Landon asks when he gets buckled and starts the engine. You sling the seatbelt over your torso and click it into place.

“Yeah. He hasn’t changed.” You watch Rafe usher Allison out the side door, hand on her lower back, and you swallow. “Let’s go home.”

#obx #obx 3 #obx x reader #obx smut #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron angst #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron x fem!reader #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron fanfiction #obx fanfiction #obx fanfic #rafe cameron oneshot #rafe cameron one shot

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burntheedges · 18 days

Text

Maintenance Request Chapter 19

Joel Miller x f!reader | new chapter every Friday 18+ | ao3 | main post & chapter list chapter word count: 7.6k

chapter summary: you and Joel have your third date, a bit of a discussion, and try something new together when Joel stays at your place for the first time. 👀

a/n: thank you as always to @katareyoudrilling for being the best beta 💕 fun fact, I wrote the second half of this chapter in a sort of fugue state, late one night during NaNo last year. I swear this just poured out of me. Joel knew what he wanted. 😂 happy chapter 19 on the 19th!

chapter tags/warnings: flirting, banter, fluff, cursing, food and drink mention, pet names (honey, gorgeous, darlin’, baby, sweetheart, pretty girl, good girl, handsome, cowboy), kink negotiation, some discussion of past relationships, somnophilia (kissing, fondling, p-in-v sex), mention of breasts, dream sex, dirty talk, a bit of crying while being fucked (in a good way)

Chapter 19

Saturday, November 9 Eleventh week of the semester

The rest of the week was a whirlwind – you saw Joel for at least a few minutes every day, and you talked on the phone most nights. By Thursday, you had your next date planned. Sarah had a sleepover on Saturday, so Joel was going to stay the night at your apartment. For the first time.

On Saturday, you caught Beth and Ellie up with your new relationship status – Beth had been pestering you about it since you’d told her about it over text (tell me everything!!) – and they immediately started complaining about how they hadn’t met him yet.

“I know! I know,” you wanted to wave your hands in front of their faces to get them to chill out. “I was thinking I could invite him to brunch next week.” You took a big gulp of coffee and watched their reactions.

Ellie narrowed her eyes and stared at you. Beth looked thoughtful.

“You sure you want him to meet both of us at once?” Beth asked, and Ellie snorted. “Throw him in the deep end?”

You shrugged. “I mean, he can handle it or he can’t. But I’m pretty sure he can.”

Beth smiled. “Fine with me. What about you, Hell’s Bells?”

Ellie glared at Beth for the nickname, as always, but you knew she secretly loved it.

“I guess that’s fine.” She furrowed her brow and stabbed a piece of egg with her fork. “If he does anything weird or fucked up I’m not gonna ignore it.”

You nodded. “I wouldn’t ask you to. But he’s not an asshole.” She squinted at you. “I know, Ells. But you know I trust you, right? If you did notice something, I’d want you to tell me. And I’d listen.” You knew you weren’t really talking about Joel, at this point, but you wanted her to know that anyway. She nodded and sighed.

“Yeah I mean I do want to meet him. He can come to brunch.” Ellie shrugged.

“Thank you. I’ll ask him tonight.”

Beth nudged Ellie with her shoulder. “Maybe I can meet him this week for lunch, first, give you a full report.” Ellie laughed, but you could see the idea relaxed her a little bit.

“Oh!” Ellie sat up straight. “What are you cooking for him?”

Beth pointed at you with a forkful of pancake. “Do not make soup.”

You rolled your eyes. “That was one time!”

Ellie smirked. “Even if you don’t create Soup Geyser: The Sequel, it’s probably not a good date food. What if you spill it all over yourself?”

Beth laughed. “I dunno, maybe that’s a good thing. Then you can take your clothes off.”

Ellie dramatically gagged and covered her ears. “I don’t want to know about that!”

You and Beth both laughed as she started in on a monologue about how men, and hearing about her aunt dating them, were gross.

…

Later that afternoon, you’d just finished cleaning up and making sure the food was almost ready when you realized you needed to change before Joel arrived. You stepped into your bedroom and stripped off your shirt at the exact moment you heard a knock at your door. Shit.

You froze, not sure what to do, when he knocked again. “Shit,” you said out loud. You were standing in your bedroom in a lounge bra and sweatpants. How did you lose track of time so badly? You ran to the front door.

You hesitated once you got there but reasoned that Joel had already seen you naked, so you’d just open it and then run back to change. You nodded to yourself, and then opened the door, shielding your body behind it.

“Hey, darlin’, everything alright?” He looked like he’d been about to knock again. He eyed your bare shoulder.

“Sorry, Joel, wasn’t quite ready yet. You can come in and I’ll go change.”

He smiled and raised his eyebrows. “Guess I am a little early.”

You laughed and invited him in, and watched as his eyes swept down your body. “You sure you need to change? I like this look.”

You rolled your eyes. “Yes, Joel, go sit on the couch. I’ll be back in a minute.” He did as you said while you ran back to your room and changed into the outfit you’d picked out earlier (complete with some green lingerie underneath – it was his favorite color, after all).

When you arrived back in the living room, you found Joel looking at the pictures lining your fireplace mantle. “I recognize Ellie and Beth,” he said. “Is this your sister?”

You stepped up next to him and nodded. “Yep. And our parents.” You continued on your photo tour for a few minutes, introducing Joel to your family as you went. He snaked an arm around your waist and leaned in behind you.

“This shirt’s pretty on you, baby.” He pressed a kiss to your shoulder.

You smirked at him over your shoulder. “Thought you liked the other look?”

Joel grinned, unrepentant. “I can like both, can’t I?” You laughed and led him into your kitchen.

“Sure you can. Have a seat, dinner will be ready in just a sec.”

He sat, and soon enough you joined him and placed the food in the middle of the table, which you’d set earlier, before he arrived. You poured him a drink and dug in. He complimented the food, sincerely, which made you smile.

“So, you’re officially invited to brunch next weekend.” Joel snapped his head up to meet your gaze. He looked surprised, and pleased.

“I am?”

You smiled. “Sure are. Got the Ellie-and-Beth stamp of approval.”

He grinned. “I can’t wait to meet them.”

“We might do lunch with Beth during the week, first.”

He nodded. “Whatever they want, darlin’. I want Ellie to be comfortable.” He reached over to squeeze your hand. “That’s the most important thing.”

“Thanks, Joel. I know she’s not actually my kid, but in some ways she is.” He tilted his head at you, considering your words. “Yeah, I know it’s confusing. Well, you know Ellie’s 14. My sister had her right out of high school.”

“Not too different from when I had Sarah.” You nodded.

“Yeah, she had a rough time. Ellie used to come stay with me a lot, even when she was really little. And then, um. Right after I finally broke up with Matt, Ellie actually lived with me and Beth for about…” you looked up at the ceiling, counting back in time. “About 2 years? Almost. When she was 9.”

Joel nodded, taking that in. “It makes sense that you’re so close.”

You smiled. “Yeah, hard not to be. And Beth helped a lot, so they’re pretty close, too. But my sister is doing a lot better now. She used to, um…” You trailed off, thinking through what you wanted to say. “Well, part of the reason Ellie is more wary of people I might date is that my sister dated, um, more than a few men, and they were in and out of their house all the time. That’s part of the reason she lived with me. Not all of it.” Joel nodded, face solemn. He squeezed your hand between his own. “But yeah, she’s doing a lot better. She’s a nurse, works a lot of weekends and nights. Ellie has her own room here and sort of comes and goes as she pleases. Their relationship is a lot better than it used to be, too.”

“That sounds like it was hard, to send her back.” You sighed. He was so good at seeing right to the heart of what you were thinking. And feeling.

“It was, and it wasn’t. I’m so glad they’re doing better, you know? But I do miss having her here all the time, even now. And now she’s a teenager and wants to be with her friends anyway.”

He laughed a little. “I’m familiar with that change.”

You laughed, too. “Yeah, I bet. But she’s doing well in school and she actually talks to her mom about her life, so I feel like it’s going pretty well. And I sort of have my sister back.”

Joel scooted his chair a bit closer to yours and put his arm around the back. “Sort of?”

You sighed and closed your eyes. “Our relationship took a hit during all of that. But it’s getting better. We talk more now. She��s been teasing me about you.”

For a moment you both sat quietly as he considered what you shared and you leaned in to him, head on his shoulder.

“Everything I learn about you impresses me more, sweetheart.” He murmured his words into your hair, and it made you shiver.

“What? Joel–”

“It’s true.” he squeezed you against him. “Not everyone would do that, you know. Even for family. It’s…” he sighed. “I love watching you get to know Sarah. I know I’m going to love seeing you with your niece. It’s just something special. Getting to know you in every way I can.” You leaned up to press a kiss to his chin and felt him smile in response.

You were quiet again until you felt Joel shift underneath you. “Joel? What is it?” You leaned back to look at his face, and caught him staring at your cabinets with a frown on his face. “Joel.”

“Hmm?”

“Joel Miller, are you looking at my broken cabinet door and thinking about how you want to fix it?”

You watched as a flush took over his cheeks. “Maybe I am.” He sounded sheepish and you grinned.

“I don’t think I even have the tools you’d need. Sorry.”

He shook his head, frowning at you playfully. “What, not even a hammer?”

“Ok, I probably have a hammer. And maybe, like, a couple of screwdrivers.”

He laughed. “Alright, alright. I’ll fix it another time.”

“You don’t have to–”

“Darlin’,” he cut you off. “I’ll fix it.” He smiled at you, amused by your protest. “You know it won’t take me even five minutes.”

You laughed, loving his confidence. “Oh yeah? Well, who am I to argue with my Hot Maintenance Guy?”

He bit back on a smile and tilted his head. “Thought I was Hot Construction Guy?”

You grinned. “You are. And Hot Maintenance Guy, and Hot Gardening Guy. Whatever I’d seen you doing that day.”

Joel laughed and pulled you into a short kiss. “Well, I’m definitely your maintenance guy. So I’m definitely gonna fix those cabinets.” You sighed, giving in.

“Not right now, though. We have better things to do.”

He perked up. “Oh? Like what?”

“Let’s clean up and then you’ll find out.” You winked as you stood to gather your plate.

Between the two of you, you made quick work of the dishes and leftovers. It was nice, doing something so domestic with Joel. You fit together by the sink and moved around each other in the kitchen like you’d done it before, like it was comfortable. You’d never smiled so much while doing dishes in your life.

“There is something I wanted to ask you about, honey.” You turned to look at him where he was washing a pot as you dried your plates.

“Oh? About what?” You saw a tiny smirk in the corner of his mouth and narrowed your eyes.

“Just about what you said, when we were in bed after our first date.” You flushed, feeling the heat enter your cheeks. But you also appreciated that Joel was bringing this up while you were doing something so totally unrelated to sex. So you could focus. Or try to, anyway.

“Yeah, I remember.” You bit your lip.

He cleared his throat. “Ah, well, did you, um. Can you tell me more about what you like? And don’t like? I like the sound of it, you know that, but I’d never want to get it wrong.”

“Um, yes. I, well. I like waking up and already…” You took a deep breath and told yourself to act like a freaking adult. “I like to already be having sex, basically. To wake up with your mouth on– on my pussy. Or your fingers inside of me. Or your cock.” You felt more than saw Joel’s sharp intake of breath and smiled. “It’s difficult to do that last one without waking me up, but it’s my favorite.”

Joel coughed. “I, um, I really want that, too.” You finally met his gaze with your own and you could see how much he wanted it. You held your breath. “Shit, sweetheart, that sounds so fucking good. I just… since you’d be asleep, I want to make sure I’m doing the right thing. Since I can’t check in with you.”

You put down the plate you’d finished drying five minutes ago and turned towards him, taking his hands in yours and drying them off with the towel. “I trust you, Joel. I know you’d do it how I wanted – make sure I’m ready, and all that.” You finished drying his hands and put the towel down on the counter before lacing your fingers through his. You considered your next words. “I don’t… we can use a safe word. We don’t have to talk about all of that right now.” He squeezed your hands in response. “But I do have one. We can use it, so you know when my reactions are good and if they’re not. I know I can’t use it while I’m asleep, but it could help.” He disentangled and lifted one hand to place it under your chin and guide your eyes back up to meet his.

“I’d like that, honey. And I’d like to talk about that more later, what other things you might like. That we might like together. But we can take it slow.” You nodded, smiling. “And, um. Well. Remember when I told you there were issues with Sarah’s mom that she didn’t know about?”

You nodded. “I do, but Joel, you don’t have to explain now–”

“No, I mean,” he interrupted you but then took a deep breath. “I just wanted to say, part of it was that we weren’t really compatible. At all. She thought, well. That some of the things I like are…” He trailed off and you tilted your chin to press a kiss to the hand still cupping your face, encouraging him. “She thought I was strange for wantin’ ‘em. Like all the sweet things I like to call you, honey, and how I like to call you mine. To her it was too much, not what she wanted. We can talk about it more but like I said, we can take it slow. Figure it out together.”

You felt the shiver run up your spine at the idea of learning what more he might like to try with you. “I just asked you to fuck me while I’m asleep, I think we can be honest with each other.” He grinned.

“So, tomorrow morning? Want me to try it?” You nodded. “I need to hear your words, sweetheart.” As he asked he slipped his right hand around the back of your neck and pulled you closer. His lips brushed yours and you shivered.

“Yes, Joel,” you felt your pulse pick up at the idea and heard the hitch in your breath.

“Yeah, baby? You’d want to wake up with me already inside you?” Your eyes fell closed and you nodded. He pressed a kiss to your jaw, just in front of your ear. “Maybe my fingers? Maybe my tongue?” He licked the shell of your ear. You shivered and your hips squirmed as you pressed your thighs together. “You want to wake up to find my cock already deep inside this pretty pussy?”

“Yes, Joel,” you breathed again. “I love it. Yes, please —” you cut off as he gripped your chin in his hand.

“Shhh, honey. Shit, what a good girl you are, letting me slip inside you while you’re asleep, huh? Take whatever I want? Give you what I want?” You sighed. “Can’t believe it. So fucking perfect for me.” He kissed your neck again as his thumb covered your lips, holding your mouth closed. He took a deep breath and relaxed again.

“Well, honey, I told you before. I’ll give you whatever you want. So I guess we’ll see in the morning, hmm?” You grinned under his finger and nodded. “But maybe we can get started right now.”

...

Sunday, November 10 Eleventh week of the semester

In the morning, Joel woke up first. Before he even opened his eyes, he felt the warmth — the warmth of the sun through the window, the bed beneath him, and the soft wonder of your body against his. You’d moved in the night, but not much. He was still wrapped around you, just with more space between your bodies, his right arm thrown across your waist. He blinked his eyes open slowly, careful not to move as he took in a deep breath and just looked at you.

You were on your side, turned away from him, but he could see the outline of your profile over your shoulder. You were peaceful in your sleep, mouth slightly open, eyelashes brushing the tops of your cheeks. He stared, almost stunned to find you with him in bed again. How did I get so fucking lucky?

As he looked at you, careful not to move his arm, your discussion from last night came back to him and suddenly he was hard. He was so fucking hard, his cock filling so fast it took his breath away as the blood rushed south.

You wanted him to be inside of you when you woke up. It was a fucking dream even thinking about it. He wanted it, fuck, he wanted it so fucking bad, but he wasn’t sure how to do it. How could he manage it, without waking you?

He kept his breathing even, despite his cock urging him forward, and considered what to do. It was still early, and you’d told him you liked to sleep in on weekends. So maybe he had time on his side. (He always woke up early, because of Sarah.) The first thing he needed to do was get rid of his briefs.

Joel slowly, gently, pulled his arm up from around you. You shifted in your sleep, but he moved slowly and successfully snuck it away. You settled back into your pillow and remained deeply asleep. He sighed in victory.

Slowly, cautiously, careful not to shake the bed, he reached down to slide his briefs off, kicking them somewhere in the sheets. He watched you the whole time, but you breathed evenly, slowly. Still asleep. He smiled. Maybe he could do this.

He rolled back onto his side and considered you. You were a few inches from him. Maybe if he slowly came up behind you you’d snuggle into him in your sleep, making it easier to touch. He nodded to himself. That was probably the best way to start.

Slowly, trying to move like he was asleep himself, he scooted towards you on the bed until his chest came back into contact with your back. He slowed even more there, gently pressing against you until you responded in your sleep — your body titled back against his, moving unconsciously together until he had you spooned in front of him again. He was careful to angle his cock down, not to get it stuck against your ass. (Even though the thought of pressing in between your cheeks almost had him thrusting forward, overcome with want.)

Joel took a moment to breathe in his success. He had you wrapped in his arms again, and he could feel your naked ass pressed against his pelvis. It was so fucking good already. He took a deep breath to calm himself. He was close to what he wanted, but he didn’t want to fuck this up.

He carefully curled his body so his hips moved forwards, and his breath caught as his cock almost arrived right where he wanted it. The tip poked at the join of your thighs, and he sighed. Now what? How would he get any closer? He paused to consider his options again.

But you, it turned out, were on board, even in your sleep. Suddenly you let out a tiny, breathless moan, and he stilled. Peering over your shoulder, he saw that you were still asleep. A dream? He grinned. He could work with that.

Leaving his hips where they were for now, he lightly ran his fingertips up your torso until he was cupping your breast. He tried to use the lightest touch, to encourage your dream without waking you up. He teased the very tip of one finger over your nipple and your body relaxed against him, like you were a puppet and your strings were cut. He stilled again, but you were still asleep. He was on the right track.

He watched your face intently as he lightly teased your nipple with his fingertip. In your sleep, your mouth opened wider, and you sighed. He was mesmerized, watching as your tongue peeked out of your mouth, the tip just touching your bottom lip. He realized his own mouth was hanging open, the desire to lick inside yours almost palpable in the air around him. He suppressed a shiver.

Suddenly, you tilted your head to the side and whispered something. He leaned closer, not quite hearing you. To his great joy, you did it again, and he realized you had whispered his name. “Joel…” he grinned. He had to have you, just like this. Had to give you exactly what you wanted. He just had to figure out what to do about your legs.

He looked down and saw that your feet were twisting in the sheets. He wondered if this was his chance. Lightly slipping from your breast, he slowly moved his hand down to your thigh. You muttered something, but a quick check showed him you were still very much asleep. He only needed an inch, at most.

Ever so lightly, he gripped your thigh and pressed to ease it upwards. You were so fucking responsive, even in your sleep — you followed his instructions perfectly and your thighs shifted just enough for his cock to slip between them. He gasped, and then stilled as his eyes quickly sought your face again. Still asleep. He moved back to his previous position, hand on your breast, before thrusting slowly forward. His cock lined up perfect against your slit, and his eyes almost rolled back when he realized how fucking wet you were. Again. Fuck. His cock glided smoothly against you and he had to fight to keep from letting himself thrust inside, from filling you up right then and there.

Joel teased lightly at your nipple as he gently pulled back again before thrusting his hips forward once more. This time his cock nestled inside your folds and he heard a breathy little moan punch itself out of you when the tip of his cock nudged your clit. He grinned. Yes.

He kept that up for a few more thrusts — gentle movement, he told himself, slow and steady, so fucking wet, sliding so easily against you, fuck — watching your face like a hawk for any trace of wakefulness.

On the next pass, his cock almost caught against your entrance, and he stifled a deep moan of his own. Fuck me. That was the final hurdle, he knew. How could he slip inside you without waking you up? He’d have to go slow, ease into you, so slow and smooth you’d never notice.

He forced himself to keep his hands light, not to grip or pull or tug. At the same time his hips moved with almost terrifying precision. He knew you were wet enough, and still ready from last night. He just had to take the final step.

Joel took a deep breath and, eyes still locked on your face, let himself nudge at your entrance on the next thrust. He stopped there, just there, with the tip of his cock nestled right at the place he most wanted to be.

His heartbeat was racing and he felt winded. He wondered if his pounding heart would wake you before his cock did.

Gently, so gently it almost knocked him out, he pushed forward with his hips. The head of his cock pushed against you before sliding past your entrance, stopping just inside. Joel realized his mouth was hanging open as he stared at you. He felt torn. He wanted to look down, to see, but he was afraid if he looked away even for a moment you’d wake up. He gritted his teeth and kept his eyes on your face.

He pushed forward again, and he felt his cock sink deeper inside you. Fuck. Your cunt was fucking perfect. He had no idea how you could be so fucking wet all the time. Were you always like this? You’d said it was just for him, but did that mean you were always like this around him? Shit. Hold it together.

He was panting. He tried to keep it quiet, but it was so much. So fucking much. He blinked to keep his eyes from closing.

Joel took a deep breath, still focused on you, and took one more gentle thrust to slide himself all the way home. He bit down so hard on his lip to fight back a moan he was worried he drew blood. He realized he’d let go of your breast to clutch at the comforter beneath you and was in danger of leaning his weight forward to fall on top of you. He stilled. He panted. He stared at your face.

You were somehow still asleep. How?

He took the gift he was offered and moved. His hips pulled gently back, and he felt every inch of your cunt squeeze tight around his cock as he pulled out, until only the head of his cock was left stretching your entrance open. He breathed in through his nose, and then breathed out steadily while thrusting back in at that same slow, infuriating pace. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck me.

He managed three or four more agonizing thrusts, doing everything he could to be silent and gentle, to keep you sleeping while he fucked you. He realized now the goal was for you to wake up, but he wasn’t sure how to do it. He paused inside you after his next thrust, taking a deep breath, looking over your slumbering face. He started to smile.

Slowly, gently, he leaned down towards your neck as he pulled almost all the way out of you again. As he slid home this time, just a tiny bit faster, he pressed a kiss to your neck, right under your ear. You moaned. His smile turned feral.

He continued like that, thrusting inwards and pressing kisses to your neck and your shoulder, getting wetter and sloppier each time. Your breaths started to come faster and faster, and then he noticed your hips were starting to push back against his.

His eyes flew back to your face. He had to see it. He wanted to see the exact moment you woke up and realized he was doing as you asked, he was doing what you wanted. He was giving it to you just right.

He wanted to push you over the edge. On his next thrust he cupped your breast again, and your voice was clearer this time, calling out to him in your sleep. “Yes, Joel, yes,” he teased your nipple and thrust forward. “Joel,” you called out, brow furrowing. He knew it was coming. He stared at you, and on the next thrust, he pinched your nipple at the same moment his cock bottomed out inside of you.

It was fucking heaven. Fucking transcendent. Your eyes flew open as you gasped, throwing your head back onto his shoulder. Your hands grasped at nothing until they found his arm, and you clutched at him. He pulled out again and thrust back inside you, hard, and you cried out. He smiled.

…

You were having the most amazing dream. Everything was warmth and pleasure and there was a man holding you and you knew it was Joel. Joel, wrapped around you. You were floating together, somehow, twisting together as he spooned you from behind, but somehow also kissed you and touched you, everywhere. You sighed.

His embrace tightened and you hitched your leg over his. “Mm, that’s my good girl,” you heard him say, and it melted through you like hot chocolate. “That’s it, baby. Show me.” You weren’t sure what he wanted you to show him, so you opened your mouth and stuck out your tongue. “Fuck yeah, baby. Let me see that tongue.”

Dream Joel, somehow spooning you and making out with you at the same time, licked your tongue as you stuck it out for him. The slide of your tongues together made you press your thighs tight. “You’re so goddamn hot baby,” he muttered in your ear while making out with you. You moaned back, somehow still kissing him, “Joel.” He grinned at you, wicked and intent. He bent down suddenly to lick at your nipples and you gasped. “Joel!” He smiled and you hummed at the feeling of him worshiping your tits.

In your dream the two of you were floating upwards, towards something — there was light above you, and warmth below you. Everything felt amazing.

Dream Joel ran his hands down your body, grasping at your hips and your legs. You smiled. “Love the way you look, honey,” he murmured, and you told him you loved the way he looked, too. He smiled. “Open up for me, then, sweet thing. Let me inside.” You did as he asked and opened your legs. Dream Joel, talented man that he was, managed to kiss you and eat you out at the same time, and you sighed into it, mouth opening for him again. And then you felt something warm and hard and gorgeous slide against your pussy. You sighed and pushed back onto it.

“Inside, Joel,” you tried to demand, your voice weak and breathy. He chuckled, darkly. “Not yet baby, wanna feel you.” He slid his cock back and forth against your soaking wet pussy and you moaned. “You feel so good on my cock, honey. You hear that?” You listened, and you heard him panting behind you, heard the slick glide of his cock as it nestled in your folds. “Shit, sweetheart. You’re so wet for me.”

“Always,” you sighed out.

“I know you are, baby. Can’t stop thinking about it, about sneaking my fingers inside your underwear everywhere we go, see if you’re ready for me. Ready for me to slip inside you, no matter where we are.”

You nodded. “Always ready for you, Joel. Always want you inside me. Want you inside me right now.”

“Honey I told you, I’ll give you everything you want. Don’t you worry.” Dream Joel slid back again, and on his next thrust his cock notched right at your entrance, and you sighed. “Yes, please, Joel.”

“Shhh, honey. Just let me give it to you. I’ll give you whatever you want, you know that. All you have to do is lie there and take it.” You moaned as he pressed the head of his cock inside of you. It felt huge and perfect and warm and like you never wanted to be without it.

Dream Joel rubbed his hands up your torso as he fucked into you from behind. “That’s it, honey. Take me inside you. Let me fill you up. Let me stuff my cum so deep inside of you it’ll be dripping out for hours.” Your breath caught at the idea and you started to breathe harder and faster. He pinched your nipples and thrust into you, hard. “Feel it, honey? Feel how perfectly my cock fits inside this cunt?”

“Yes, Joel, yes,” you cried, almost crying for real. “I need it.”

“I know, sweetheart, I know,” he crooned, softly. “You’re such a good girl, you know that? Such a good fucking girl for me. Letting me put my cock inside you whenever I want, letting me fill you up. Sitting on my cock like an angel. Like you were meant to be right here, in my lap.” Dream Joel thrust inside of you again, and you cried out.

“Joel, please,” you sighed as your brows pinched together. The dream suddenly felt so real, so physical, you couldn’t figure out which way was up or down. You were spinning, falling, and when you crash landed back into your body you gasped.

Your eyes flew open and all you could feel was Joel. He was fucking everywhere. His body was pressed all along your back, his fingers pinched your nipple, his mouth was on your jaw.

And his cock was hard, and it was deep, deep inside of you.

Your head flew back as you gasped for air, staring up at the ceiling without seeing. Your hands grasped for purchase on something, anything that would hold you there, keep you from flying apart and spiraling into the air, until they found his arm and you held on for dear life. Suddenly Joel pulled his hips back and then thrust inside of you, hard. You cried out, maybe his name, maybe no words at all. Fuck. You needed to catch your breath. Your hips were pinned under his, your pussy wet and dripping and tightening around his cock. You could feel a tear slip from your eye to land on the pillow under your head. Fuck me.

Before you could even try to make sense of your surroundings, to catch your breath, Joel’s lips found your ear.

“Good morning, honey.” His voice was deep and rumbling and fucking vicious. He thrust inside you again, pinching your nipple and rolling it between his thumb and forefinger. Your next breath came out like a sob. “How’d you sleep?” You felt a tear form at the edge of your eye again, and he curled forward to kiss it away. “Shh, baby, you’re ok. You’re so fucking good, honey, my good fucking girl.” He thrust inside of you again, and his cock slid against you so easily, so wonderfully, that you breathed through another sob. “Honey?”

You realized, distantly, that he was starting to worry about you. You squeezed his arm. You had to say something.

“Y— yes, Joel. Yes.” You felt him grin against your shoulder.

“Yeah, honey? That feel good?” You nodded, frantically, reaching one hand back to grasp at his hip. “You want it bad, don’t you? Want this cock to split you open?” Your breath hitched, again. “Want me to push deep inside you, don’t you, sweet thing? Fill you up? Leave you fucking dripping?”

Real Joel echoing Dream Joel spun you upwards again, disorienting you in your pleasure. You whined, and thrust your hips backwards towards him. He pulled out and slammed his cock back into you, pulling back on your hip to urge you onto him. “Fuck, honey, you need it, don’t you? You need it so bad.” You could only grasp at him and nod, feeling another tear run down the side of your face. He kissed that one away, too.

“Don’t cry, sweetheart. You can have this cock whenever you want.” He thrust forward again, pinning you to the bed. Your right knee bent in front of you and he followed, curving his body into the same position, somehow driving his cock deeper. “It’s yours. Yours to use, honey. Yours to touch, to lick, to sit on whenever you want.” He started up a steady pace, pushing his cock inside of you so deeply, so right on every thrust. Your face was turned, left side on the pillow, profile still open to him. He pressed kisses everywhere he could reach.

“I’m going to make you come, honey. And I want to see it.” He curved his right hand over your hip, seeking out your clit with his fingers. “I want you to come on my cock. I want to feel you squeeze me, baby, squeeze me so fucking tight.” You sighed into the pillow. “Can you do that for me? Yeah, ‘course you can. Be a good girl, honey, and come for me.”

His fingers started circling your clit, and you felt it building inside of you like a tidal wave. It was almost too much, so much, more than you could handle. You were actually crying now, tears running down your face that he kissed away. “J— Joel,” you whined, and he twisted to press a gentle kiss to the corner of your mouth.

“That’s right, honey. Let me have it. It’s mine.”

Something about the way he claimed it, claimed you, sent you over the edge. You flew over it, into the air, twisting, falling, electrified. The orgasm erupted through you, and you felt more wet gush out of you, absolutely soaking his cock. He groaned.

“Holy fucking shit, honey. Yes. Fucking give it to me.” He talked you through it, pressing kisses anywhere he could reach. It shuddered through you and you clamped down on him as your orgasm crested. You sobbed one more time, and he bit down on your shoulder to ground you.

As you came down, you realized his hips were speeding up. You whined and thrust your hips backwards again. You wanted it. You wanted him, inside of you, dripping out of you, like he promised. He nodded, seeming to understand.

“That’s right, honey. I’m going to give it to you. That’s what good girls get, right? And you were perfect, honey. My good fucking girl.” You clutched at the pillow as you pushed your hips back, trying to tilt them to give him the best angle. He sank deeper, somehow, and moaned. “I’m going to give it to you so deep, baby, so fucking deep.” He sighed, dreamily. “Fuck.”

His thrusts picked up, and you let yourself drift, feeling perfectly used as Joel pumped his hips into yours. His thrusts caught, uneven, and you heard him groan from deep in his chest. He clutched at you, with one final, devastating thrust, and came. His mouth was hot on your ear as he said your name in a voice that made it sound like a prayer.

For a moment, neither of you moved. You were both breathing hard, and you were a fucking mess — wet, everywhere — cum all over, sweaty, and tears that had dripped down your face and soaked your pillow.

Joel sucked in a deep breath and carefully, gently, pulled out of you. You still gasped — you were sensitive from the night before, still, and he’d just fucked you so hard you’d cried, for god’s sake — but he was so soft and gentle with you that it barely hurt.

He flopped to your left on the bed, and with a groan, you heaved yourself onto your right side so you could look at him. You fell in the wet spot, but honestly, the entire bed was probably a wet spot at that point.

He turned his head, and for a minute you just looked at each other. You’d thought you’d seen him wrecked before, but that was nothing. You could see, now, what it actually looked like. And he was wrecked. You imagined you were the same. His hair was wild, his face was awestruck. He was red and sweaty and fucking beautiful.

Slowly, he started to smile, and you returned it. Then he laughed, and you laughed back. Soon you were both giggling into your pillows, curled towards each other, linking fingers in the damp sheets.

Joel took a deep breath, and managed to stop giggling long enough to say, “I think you might have killed me, honey. Can’t move my legs.” You giggled and buried your face in the pillow. “No, I’m serious. First you knock me over with the idea of fucking you awake, much less telling me to do it? Jesus, I almost came before I ever got inside of you, trying to figure out how to do it without waking you up. Best fucking idea I’ve ever heard, honey, shit. Holy fucking shit.” He sounded winded, and awestruck. Like he couldn’t believe that just happened. “You were so beautiful, baby, taking it so well, even in your sleep. Couldn’t tear my eyes away from you.” He sighed, grinning. “Jesus, when can we do it again? I wanna do it again. How’s every goddamn morning sound to you?” You laughed outright. He cleared his throat. “Was it, um. Was it what you wanted?” He looked hopeful, and a tiny bit worried. You didn’t know how he could be, not after you came harder than you ever had in your life. So you told him that.

“Joel. I just came harder than I ever have in my entire life.” You figured he needed to hear it, and his answering grin told you he appreciated it. “I can’t feel my legs, either.” He laughed, and you tracked it across his face. Beautiful. “It was so fucking perfect. I was having the best dream about you, I guess because of what you were doing to me for real, and then suddenly the dream and reality came together and I— fuck.” You closed your eyes against the memory of that moment. “I’ve never felt anything like that.”

“It was fucking beautiful to watch,” he murmured, eyes traveling over your face and chest. “Never seen anything like that, either.”

You smiled. “In my dream you were fucking me from behind, and it just… melted into real life. I felt like I fell back into myself and couldn’t tell up from down in the best fucking way.” You bit your lip. “Every morning, huh?” He winked at you. “I dunno, if you make me come like that every day I might not make it to work.” He laughed, and finally reached for you again. You went easily as he pulled you into his chest, pressing your bodies together. You sighed, sinking into him happily.

“You fit so well in my arms, sweetheart.” He pressed a kiss to your hairline. “Let’s just stay right here, for a while.”

You hummed, agreeing, nuzzling your face into his shoulder. You were both quiet for a moment, just letting the moment wash over you, when you felt him tense.

“Joel?” You questioned lightly, wondering what he was thinking.

“I, um,” he cleared his throat. “Just want to make sure of something, honey. You were, well, the crying. Was that… ok?” He sounded so careful, so worried, it made your heart clench.

“Yes, Joel. That wasn’t just ok.” You tilted your head back to meet his eye so he could see the sincerity on your face. “It was exactly what I wanted. It was perfect.” He relaxed, and his eyes crinkled when he smiled. “Sometimes I cry during sex. Not all the time, but it’s not necessarily a bad thing when it happens. Like just now, it was a really, really good thing.”

“That’s what I thought,” he nodded, “but I wanted to make sure I was reading you right. Would be a pretty upsetting thing to get wrong.”

The two of you nestled back into each other, holding tight, breathing in deep together as you came down from the intensity of the sex you’d just had. It had been beautiful, and rough, and exactly what you wanted, and now you were worn out. In his arms was exactly where you wanted to be.

After a while you started to doze off again, but you didn’t want to sleep the morning away, so you shook yourself back awake. You stretched, idly, and you felt Joel’s gaze on you. You looked up to find him admiring your legs as you stretched them along the bed.

“See something you like, cowboy?”

He smiled. “You know I do, gorgeous.”

“Want to get up, grab some breakfast, maybe?” Joel smiled and nodded, but pulled you in rather than letting you get up.

“Maybe in a few minutes.”

You smiled.

…

Joel drove you to a diner about halfway between your apartment and his house. You’d never been there, but had driven past it many times, and told him so.

“This is a favorite of ours,” he told you as you both climbed out of his truck. “Sarah usually demands it at least once a month. We have family breakfast with Tommy.” You smiled at the thought.

Breakfast was easy, full of easy conversation and light teasing. Joel snuck some of your food and you retaliated by drinking some of his coffee. His feet nudged yours under the table as he grinned at you, and you rested your chin in your hand to watch him watch you across the table. It really drove home for you how much you liked being around Joel. The sex had been mind-blowing, obviously, like always, but you’d also spent weeks circling each other before finally starting to get to know each other over lunches and coffees and now dates. Every moment you spent with him showed you there was something more, here. It was in the way he couldn’t look away from you, the way he listened so carefully, like he always did, as you told him silly stories about the diner in your hometown. The way he remembered tiny details from everything you’d ever told him. You felt yourself falling, just like you’d told Beth.

It was scary, but it was also pretty wonderful.

...

a/n: 😏

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billthedrake · 2 months

Text

SUGAR DADDY (PART TWO)

The next day I was a little bit of a wreck. Still coming down from the high of my fantasy time with Mike Keenan. Sucking his cock. Kissing him. Enjoying the privacy and the deep conversation. I thought of texting him but decided that wouldn't be welcome. It hadn't been a date, it had ust been something that had happened. A combination of Mike taking pity on me and wanting to get his rocks off. We both got something out of it, but it was surely a one-time thing.

I had class that next morning and baseball practice that afternoon, then weightlifting. It was early evening when I got done and saw I had a text from Mike.

"Hi Luke, sorry no contact, I had a long day here. Enjoyed last night. Any chance for a repeat some time?"

My heart pounded. Maybe I was the one overthinking things. Mr. Keenan just wanted his cock sucked again.

"I'd love that," I wrote.

"Nice," came the reply. "You around to talk?"

I said good night to my buddies and told them I had to get back to study for a test. Then I texted a "yes" to Mike. A second later my phone rang.

"Hey," I said. God, I was majorly crushed out on the guy.

"Hey Luke," he said. His voice was sexy as fuck. "What are you up to?"

"Just getting out of practice. Bout to grab some dinner."

"I haven't eaten either. Want to come over? We can get dinner in the hotel bar."

"I probably need to change," I said. I was still in my workout clothes.

"I bet you look sexy as fuck," he growled. It was a trip to hear him lust for another man. "But take your time."

"Yeah, I probably shouldn't go to some fancy bar in my gym clothes."

"They don't give a fuck," he said. "But do what you feel comfortable with."

"All right," I said. "I'll text you when I'm on my way."

"Take an Uber," he said. "I'll pay."

"OK." Then I hung up. I was going to object, but I was eager to see the man. And truth be told I was hungry, real hungry. Maybe that's what made me decided to head right over, underdressed as I was.

"OK, I'm getting in my Uber," I typed to him five minutes later.

He sent a smiley face reply.

The man was in his suit, without tie, on one of the bar stools and his eyes lit up as I walked in. He had a smirk as I set down my backpack and pulled out the adjacent stool to sit. "I was right," he said softly. "Sexy as fuck."

I blushed. "I didn't think you went for guys that way," I whispered.

His blue eyes twinkled some as he patted my back. "No labels, remember?"

I was getting hard in my shorts. Unfortunately the thin fabric wasn't going to hide my boner, but fortunately, it was hidden by the bar. And my hunger was going to win out.

"The steak here is great," the man said as he handed me a menu.

"I dunno," I said as I looked over the option. "A burger is fine." Of course I was concerned about the price.

Mr. K could read me, though. "Get the steak," he grunted.

I felt a little chastised and said something I instantly regretted. "Is that how the Sugar Daddy treatment works?"

Mike gave me a quick glance then replied without missing a beat. "Buddy, you don't eye me up like a cash machine like those girls do. You don't know how nice a change that is."

I blushed and I felt his hand pat my bare thigh.

"I like that I can be honest with you, Luke, for real." His bossy tone was gone, replaced with the old Mr. Keenan charm.

I gulped. "I like being honest with you, too," I said. Until Mr. Keenan re-entered my life six months prior, I hadn't realized how rare it was I could be honest about things. I gave him a smile and saw him smile in return.

"Since I'm being honest," I started, but just then the bartender came over to take our order.

"Two steaks," Mr. Keenan said, ordering for me. "And another scotch and..." he turned to me.

"An IPA?" I asked. The bartender nodded and named off some brewery. Sounded good. We watched as he poured our drinks in front of us and placed them on the bar before going off to ring up our order.

"So..." Mike picked up. "Since you're being honest..."

I lowered my voice. "It's like I said before. You don't need to pay for anything, Mike. Or be a sugar daddy or anything."

He grinned. "There's always trade offs," he said. "And maybe I enjoy the control."

"Control?" I asked dumbly.

"If you're paying, you get your say in a lot of things," he said. He paused and watched me blush. "You think less of me."

"Honesty, right? You don't know how crushed out I am on you."

He smiled. "I have an idea. It's flattering." He took a sip of his scotch and looked over at me like a wolf eyeing up his prey. "I'm hoping you stay over tonight."

I was in over my head. Emotionally, but also with a man like Keenan. Decisive. "If you want, I will," I said.

"Good," he said, satisfied.

***

Mike Keenan surprised me that evening. After we ate and he paid the check, we went up to our room. We showered together, making out, feeling each other up. I was surprised how much this straight man was into my very male body and my cock. Well, he was probably bi and in any case had his no-labels motto. I was gonna embrace it.

Particularly as we made out on the bed, me beneath his middle aged, fit hairy body. I'd eventually find a real boyfriend, I knew, but I also knew it was going to be hard for any man to live up to hot how Mr. K was. His cock felt hard and even bigger as we humped our bodies together and kissed.

"So, Luke... you up for me being inside you?"

I nodded, hungrily. "God yeah, Mr. Keenan."

He grinned. "You have much experience?" That concern coming in.

"A couple of guys, yeah," I said. Then with deep candor, I added, "I wish you'd taken my cherry, Mike."

His voice got husky. "I've done anal a couple of times. With an ex-girlfriend."

His words made me actually break out into goosebumps. For some reason the idea of Mr. K doing some woman in the backdoor seemed kinky as fuck. But also the way he unmistakeably was communicating that he knew how to fuck me. "You liked it, I bet," I said with a lusty smile.

He nodded and winked just as he leaned up and knelt on the bed. His hardon looked magnificent, the thickness perfectly framed by his hairy, DILF-y body. I decided then and there I'd have a hard time sleeping with a man under 40. "Oh, yeah, buddy," he said. Then my body shivered again as I watched the confidence with which he picked up the lube he'd set out next to the bed. As he returned his focus, I pulled back my legs and spread them some, letting his slick hand in to lube up my hole. "It's probably my favorite thing. Hard to talk a woman into it, though."

"I can imagine," I hissed, enjoying the cool contact of the lubed finger on my ring. "I bet that costs extra huh?" Maybe that sounded accusatory, but from my tone it was clear that it was a joke, and Mr. Keenan picked up on that.

He laughed. "I don't hire hookers, but don't think I haven't thought about it." His cock jerked, and I was relieved that being with a dude seemed to work for him as much as fucking a chick.

He pressed in and worked me open some. "That feel OK, buddy?"

I looked at him excitedly and nodded. I kept expecting resistance as the man fingered me but there was none. At all. "Feels amazing Mr. K." My longtime nickname for him just slipped off my tongue, but the man seemed excited to hear it. His cock actually jerked.

He now slipped in a third finger, twisting me open and working in and out. "You're ready," he said, though I knew there was a questioning behind his assured tone.

"Yes, sir," I hissed.

Mike was horny, too, I realized as he scooted in to place and nudged his meaty cock right into place. I don't know the approach he took with women, but he angled his finger to let his prick push in just as he withdrew his hand. Kind of a shoehorn move that slid his meaty cock right into me. Three solid inches inside me in one go.

"There ya go," he said with satisfaction. Then he moved forward, his hips driving more meat into me, as he leaned his upper body forward. I was getting well and truly penetrated.

The thing was, my insides were starting their natural resistance, my guts clenching down on the invader and trying to repel it. Mr. Keenan mistook my discomfort for a natural stimulation of an ass on his cock. "That's goddamn nice, buddy," he hissed and like that he was kissing me, hard and possessively.

I met his tongue as well as I could, but there was something that clicked in me. I was a dude, a masculine dude. I didn't like to think of myself as feminine, and I got offended by the way people would associate gay sex with being feminized. And yet, I was pinned down beneath Mike Keenan and all I could think was to compare myself to those college chicks Mike banged. My hole relaxed around him and I wrapped my legs around his waist. Not slutty or anything, but damn I needed and wanted a Mike Keenan fuck.

He must have sensed the change but in any case pulled back from the kiss. "I guess I didn't even ask about protection," he hissed, his hips slowly pumping me.

"This is perfect, Mr. K," I growled. His dick was rubbing right over my prostate, not punching the button, but playing it like a violin string. It was a surprisingly new sensation for me.

The man liked my answer. He pulled back, further back, and pushed all the way. Then again. Not rushing it, but definitely claiming me with this cock. All the while his blue eyes bore down on mine. "How do you normally like it, Luke?" he asked.

I racked my brain. It was actually hard to think with the man's cock pressing in and out. And I'd only had a few experiences bottoming. "Slow, I guess," I replied. But then as I felt up the man's naked torso and strong arms, I wanted more. "But this is weird to ask... but I'd like you to show me how I like it."

THAT turned Mike on like crazy. "Yeah?" His nostrils flared. "I can do that buddy."

He pulled back and I felt his prick punch into me. In retrospect it probably wasn't rough, but I'd never been fucked with that much force. Then another. Slow, steady, and hard.

The fact that it was Rich's dad doing this drove me wild. I looked up into his handsome face and imagined him rough fucking some sugar baby who'd have to work for her apartment money.

"Shit!" I gasped. My prick was dripping already, a telltale sign that I was about to cum. I gripped it, just in time to let the pleasure boil to a full orgasm, all while Mr. Keenan pounded it out of me.

His own face was scrunching into a clear sign of pleasure. The man was ejaculating into my guts, and good.

"Well, fuck me," he sighed as he lay his forehead against mine. We lay like that, my hands on him and my legs wrapped around him. His more mature, fit body resting on top of me as he caught his breath. "Please tell me you liked that buddy," he hissed.

I felt weirdly emotional. I don't know, it wasn't just the crush I had on Mr. K. It was the hormonal rush on top of the mind fuck of having had such hot sex. "A little too much," I admitted.

That made him smile.

He finally leaned up and slid out of me, and off me. His dick was thick and plump but softening, and very wet. He looked down on me with a mix of surprise, paternal-like affection, and pride in conquest. I loved it all, and it was then that I realized I was hooked on the Mike Keenan experience.

"I thought I was pushing my luck asking you to meet me again," he said as he stepped off the bed and down some water from a water bottle. His middle-aged muscle was covered in a sheen of sweat. The man was sexy as fuck. His eyes barely left my nakedness. "But I guess not," he continued.

I felt all sorts of weird, and more than a little cheap now that the endorphins were wearing off. I sat up in bed, my hole feeling used and wet now. "You really do like being on control, don't you, Mike?"

My words caught him by surprise. "I guess I come on strong, huh?"

"A little," I admitted. "I should probably go," I said as I searched for my briefs.

"Will it make you feel better to stay over?" he asked.

It was my turn to be surprised. "You think I'm like a chick?" I asked. I wasn't sure I was upset he was stereotyping me as a gay guy. Or upset because maybe he was right.

"It's just a question, Luke," he replied. "I'll give you Uber money."

I swallowed my pride. "I'd love to stay. Sorry I was giving you grief."

He smiled. "It's fine buddy. I'm used to game playing. But you're a straight shooter. I like that." Then matter of factly, he added, "I get up early."

"That's cool," I said.

****

I gave Mr. K a blowjob early the next morning. And he stroked me off. I guess I was leaning toward being a bottom before Mike Keenan, but I'd never embraced the label. What the fuck, the man was making me realize the shoe fit.

I was happy and content all day. I kind of wanted a text from Mr. K, but I didn't need one. Even being young and naive, I knew I had to take this for what it was, or not at all.

Around 5:30 I got a text. "Dinner?"

I had a late game and plans with my buddies. "I'm tied up, Mike," I wrote. "Sorry."

"What time you done?" came that reply.

"I don't know. 10?"

"Come over then. You know the room number."

Maybe it should have rubbed me the wrong way, but it didn't. I was horny for this man. So bad.

Only after I replied with an OK, I got a Venmo alert. Mr. K had sent me money. Not an exhorbitant amount. But a lot.

Oh shit.

***

I was nervous as Mike ushered me in. The worst part was how fucking handsome he looked, even in his readers and plush hotel bathrobe. He didn't look exactly sleepy, but he seemed in a relaxed, tired state as he looked me up and down.

"Thanks for coming, Luke," he said. That easygoing charm I remember from going over to his place when I was visiting my buddy Rich.

"Sure," I said. Looking around, I wondered what it was like to live in a hotel like this a few nights a week, always being on the road. I smelled Mr. Keenan's cologne before I felt his hand on my shoulder and his warm body press against my back. Already he was kissing softly at my neck.

"Listen, Mr. K... can we talk about the money thing?"

His voice had a throaty growl. Maybe he'd been thinking all evening, all day about sex, because he seemed to be in a horny mode. "Sure. Was it not enough?"

"No, Jesus," I hissed, feeling his fingers already running beneath the hem of my T-shirt tracking my abs. "I don't need anything. For real."

OK, now his fingers stopped their seductive movement. I guess the man was getting it. "You offended?" he asked.

I blushed. "I dunno," I replied. "It didn't make me feel great."

I felt his breath against my neck. "You deserve the money more than Kimberly," he said. "Or the others. It's just a little something, Luke. Use it to have fun. Or save it for a rainy day."

I don't know how Mike Keenan was so persuasive a man, but he was. Maybe because those fingers are once again tracing up my abs and pulling my shirt with them. "Come on, buddy, let me see that hot baseball jock body," he urged.

I went with it. I knew I was good looking, and even if I had some bulking goals for the off season, I knew I had a solid body. But the fact Mr. Keenan was into it had me so turned on. I turned around to see a smile on his five-o-clock-shadowed face.

"Nice," he said, eyes sweeping up and down my build. "Lose the shorts, Luke," he said.

Mr. K had talked about enjoying being in control. I was now wrestling with the fact that I enjoyed being bossed around, at least by this man. I stepped back and undid my shorts, stripping down completely for him. I was rock hard.

My heart pounded as I watched Mike get a more serious look on his face, as his hands reached down to undo the tie on the robe. The white terry cloth flapped open to show off his furry fit torso and, beneath that, his thick boner. "Come on buddy," he said in a deep whisper, nodding down at his crotch in an unmistakable signal.

I gulped. I assumed my normal catcher's squat, a position which made my hard dick stick up at an angle.

"Fuck yeah," Mike said. He scooted up to offer me his prick. It was fat and veiny, and while not porn-long that dick was pretty damn big.

I leaned forward just an inch to start licking him. Top to bottom. Along his furry nuts. Tasting every inch of Mike Keenan. Maybe his relaxed vibe gave me the implicit permission to take my time.

Only by the time I actually began sucking him, working my mouth up and down on him and doing my best to coordinate suction and tongue along his shaft, the man was starting to get worked up.

"Easy there, buddy," he hissed, gently pushing me off his dick, which throbbed and jerked a little, wet with my saliva. "I almost blew there."

I grinned. I felt so fucking proud. I didn't have a ton of sexual experience and it was good to know I was doing something right to get Mike so close so soon. "Why don't you?" I asked, sitting back on my haunches and looking up at him. I was getting more confident in having sex with this older man.

He let out a heavy sigh, like he was fighting off the urge to do just that. A smile crossed his lips, though. "Guess I'm like a kid with a new toy," he explained.

It took me a second to get it. "You wanna fuck me again." Half statement, half question.

Mike nodded. "Been thinking about it all fucking day, man. Your ass is so fucking tight."

I knew this was a possibility, and I wondered if I should be giving my hole some rest. But I also knew it was going to be hard to turn down a Mr. Keenan fuck. I stood up, my dick riding that crest between pure excited hardness and nervous flagging.

"Ok if we kiss a little, Mike?" I asked feeling almost embarrassed to ask. "You know, make out a little?"

My buddy's dad nodded and grinned as he stepped up to me, placing his hands on my waist. "I guess I can come on strong, huh?" he asked.

God, feeling his dick press against mine and the heat and the soft-hard combo of fur and muscle against me was going to drive me wild. "Some, yeah," I admitted with a laugh. Then blushing, I added, "Part of me really likes it, but fuck it's intimidating too, you know?"

Mike didn't reply but just gave a sympathetic nod and leaned in for a soft kiss. We made out some, and it was incredible to feel the contrast between the gentle approach kissing and the mauling of his hands on my jock body, particularly my butt. Mr. K wasn't kidding about having a new toy. He seemed to really love my ass.

He walked me back to the bed and I went back down on the mattress with a motion of his that was between guiding and pushing. He quickly lost his bathrobe and joined me, covering my body with his older, more experienced one, feeling me up and kissing along my neck, my ear, my upper chest. Mike was in full-on horny mode and bring me there right with him.

Finally he lifted off and rolled to the side. His erection was dripping and rock hard and looked amazing against all that body hair. "All right buddy, get on all fours."

I was primed for Mike Keenan in full on control mode. I scrambled to do as the man asked, facing the headboard and feeling the man settle in behind me. Already his hands were cupping my glutes and feeling the smooth muscle.

"You got a hot fucking ass, Luke," he growled. He pawed at me another few seconds then reached for some lube. The first wet finger felt great, and went in pretty easy.

"You're looser today, buddy," Mike hissed. A second finger popped in.

"Yeah, probably," I responded. "After yesterday."

"I wanna keep you this way," came his deep voice. "Ready for me."

"Oh fuck, Mr. K," I whined. There was an edge to his tone that drove me wild. And as his prick pushed in, I felt a welcome pleasure, even with my residual tightness.

"Fuck yeah," Mike grunted as he felt my insides and pushed to bottom out. "Right back in the saddle."

His grip clenched roughly on my waist. Just as quickly as that thick cock pulled out, it barreled back in. And again. One hard thrust right after the other as Mr. K grunted deeply. "Ung. Ungh. Ung."

The man was fucking for his pleasure, not mine. Still I felt an excited thrill. I wouldn't say I enjoyed this nearly as much as the missionary mating the night before but it felt new to me. Animalistic and raw. I was hard even with the discomfort of the shafting.

Wham. Wham. Wham. That thick piece of hard dad meat was drilling steadily. Then the cadence went off. Mr. Keenan's rhythm was getting more spasmodic and jerky as he pounded me. Then I felt those fingers dig into my hips.

"FUCK!"

From his cry and the sudden stop of his thrusts, I knew the man was seeding me.

I loved every part of the experience, but I now regretted that I hadn't gotten off. The fuck had been too hard and too quick.

Thankfully I felt the man shift behind me and, prick still buried inside me, he leaned forward to press against, my back.

I loved the feeling of his kiss on my neck, but even more I loved the slickness of his palm as he wrapped his hand around my hardon. Mike didn't even need to do much. Just give slow soft pumps in and out of my guts while his fingers ran along my dick. I fired off, heavy and hard. I felt lightheaded when I came.

We were quiet as we uncoupled. The shame was coming back to me as I showered off. Shame that I enjoyed what others might see as a dominant, selfish fuck. Shame that there were funds in my Venmo account. Shame that I was falling for Mr. Keenan so hard. I knew I couldn't stay over in this hotel room, not tonight. I needed some space to think.

Mike had his robe back on. To this day a white terry bathrobe is a fetish for me. His tone was more serious. "You mad at me Luke?" he asked as he sat in the hotel chair and watched me get dressed.

I grimaced but shook my head no. "I didn't think I'd like sex that rough," I said softly.

I could see a sly grin from on his lips. But he continued. "I wasn't talking about the fuck."

God, the man could be intense, behind the suave businessman outgoingness and the friendly paternal vibe. It was like I was seeing the real Mr. Keenan. Intimidating, sure, but I also wondered if he had a hard time with real relationships. His marriage hadn't worked out, he was clearly estranged from his son, and he basically hired dates instead of having real girlfriends.

I paused, just holding the T shirt I was going to put back on. "Can I be blunt, Mr. K? You say you don't want a hooker, and yet have a way of treating me like one."

He was prepared for that. "You're not that, Luke. But I'm not ready for anything serious. I figure I can help you out, and you can help me out." He looked at me and could tell I still didn't get it. "Listen, it's not just sex. I love spending time with you buddy. You're a hell of a lot more fun than those sugar babies, I'll tell ya." He cracked a smile, and I had to as well.

"I guess," I said. Remembering Kimberly, I could imagine she'd be more work than fun.

My conciliatory tone made him happy, and I was glad to see the friendly Mr. Keenan return. "Well, it's just I don't always have the time or interest for all the other boyfriend bullshit. Checking in, looking after emotional needs, dealing with jealousy."

I gulped. I was starting to get a better picture of Mike. The side Rich hated. The side I should hate more.

He watched my reaction but continued. "I know that wouldn't be fun for you to deal with, so I want to make it worth your while."

"Make what worth my while?" I asked. Again, as persuasive as he was, I felt he kept talking around the sex part.

He laughed, almost amused at how astute I was. "Luke, I'm not going to pay you per sex act. Or per night. But..." his voice got conspiratorial. I wondered if he knew what that supportive dad-figure tone did for me, and just weaponized it to get his way. Honestly I think it just came naturally to him. "Well, bud, I'd love an arrangement when you're able to keep me company when I'm in DC." His blue eyes got an impish cast to them, and I knew he was in seal-the-deal mode. "I'm pretty sure we could have a lot of fun together."

"You wanna be my sugar daddy?" I asked, point blank. It's not that I was dumb, but I actually didn't think Mr. Keenan was outright going there.

He nodded. But his face had a caution to it. "Would it better if we ditched the labels?" he asked, a smirk on his face reminding me of his own no-labels policy.

"It would," I answered. Then. "OK if I think on it, Mike?"

"Of course," he said.

He stood up as I finished putting on my shoes. Seeing how handsome he was I almost asked if I could stay over again. But the vibe wasn't right for that.

As I made my way to the room door, Mr. K patted my shoulder. "You're a fine young man, Luke," he said. His fingers gave my muscle a little squeeze before letting go. "I mean that."

"Thanks, Mr. Keenan," I said.

***

The Uber ride was quick at that time of night. I'd have to come up with an excuse to my roommate while I was out again. I'd probably have to come up with a lot more excuses if I hung out more with Mr. K. Or, if he got me my own apartment, things would be easier. Meeting up with him. Having sex with him.

I pulled out my phone. I thought I'd hesitate before sending but I knew I knew my answer.

"You'll have to let me know how it works Mr. K," I texted. "But I'm in."

No labels. But if Mike Keenan was going to call himself my sugar daddy that was probably OK too.

I got a quick reply. "That makes me happy Luke. Talk tomorrow sexy."

I felt warm inside. Mike Keenan was going to make this worth my while. But I was determined to make it worth his, too.

#drakestories

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misc-obeyme · 5 months

Text

9 Days of Solomon: Day 5 - Pact

I wrote the beginning of this a long time ago and then got distracted. I kept meaning to go back to it and this prompt gave me the perfect reason to. I am obsessed with this man's pact marks and that's really all you need to know lol.

Solomon x GN!MC (this is an established relationship scenario)

NSFW MDNI

Warnings: Solomon's wrists are restrained, oral (Solomon receiving), lil bit of biting, I think that's it I dunno you could say he's a bit subby here too I think lol

You had just come home from the House of Lamentation, ready to finally relax for a bit. You looked around for Solomon, but didn't see him right away. You went to his room and found the door was slightly open. You peeked your head in, but still saw no sign of him. You opened the door wider and went inside.

And that was when Solomon came out of the bathroom, wearing nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist.

You gasped. You didn't mean to and your hands flew to cover your mouth immediately, but it was too late.

Solomon turned to you and all you could look at were the pact marks that covered his bare chest and arms.

You had seen them before, of course. But you didn't often see them so clearly. Solomon always wore clothes that covered almost every inch of his skin. And when you had been in moments of passion that required clothing removal, you hadn't really been paying too close attention, too busy fumbling in the dark.

Solomon watched you carefully. "Hey, MC. I didn't know you were home already."

You forced your eyes up to his face. "I… just got back," you said awkwardly.

Solomon ran a hand through his still damp hair. "If you give me a minute to get dressed, I'll make us dinner."

Several emotions ran through you at this statement, but the main sentiment was don't you dare. You didn't want him in the kitchen or making dinner, but you also didn't want him to get dressed.

At that moment, the light of his room was bright, illuminating the contrast between his black pact marks and pale skin. The way they covered him so thoroughly was something you hadn't quite realized before now. The last thing you wanted was for him to cover them up again.

"Absolutely not," you said.

Solomon looked surprised. "Oh?"

You took several steps toward him and rested your fingertips on one of the pact marks on his chest, leaning in close. "You don't even realize, do you?"

Solomon shivered beneath your touch. "MC…"

You noted the blush that had crossed his cheeks and the tips of his ears. You put your other hand on one of the marks on his arm. "You're stunning."

Solomon laughed. "Me?" He sounded incredulous.

You pressed your lips to one of the marks on his chest. You heard him suck in a breath. You pushed on him gently until he was pressed up against the wall as your lips and tongue moved to another pact mark. You nipped at this one and received another gasp from him in response.

"M-MC…" his voice was already almost a whimper.

As you kept your lips on the pact mark, you let your fingers slide down and run just beneath the edge of the towel that was still tucked around his waist.

To your annoyance, he caught the wrist of your wandering hand. "Ah, now that's not fair, is it?"

You leaned back a little to smirk at him. "Don't make me tie you up," you said jokingly.

Solomon's eyes widened and his face flushed, the heat clearly creeping down his neck. He frowned a little at his own reaction.

You laughed. "I see how it is."

You didn't give him a chance to protest, instead reciting the words to a spell you happened to have learned recently.

Solomon let go of you as his own wrists were pulled together, bound by a thread of magic. His flush deepened. "Did Asmodeus teach you this?"

Your fingers went back to the towel. A glance downward revealed how hard his cock was already. You pulled on the fabric, letting it fall to his feet.

Your fingers brushed against him, trailing along his erection, across his hips, over the pact marks there.

"I think I'd like to explore every single one of these," you said, your hand splayed across a pact mark on his stomach, just behind where his bound wrists rested.

For once, Solomon didn't protest or make any kind of sound at all. Instead he simply watched you, his eyes hooded, as though he was no longer thinking clearly. As though he was dizzy from wanting you so badly.

You pulled him over to the bed and made him kneel on it. He did as you asked obediently and you noted how he was like putty in your hands.

Slowly and carefully, you set about putting your lips (and tongue and teeth) on all seventy-two of Solomon's pact marks.

You couldn't help but chuckle when you got to Asmo's. "You were right. He did teach me that wrist binding spell," you said just before sucking on the center of it, leaving a dark red mark there.

Solomon sighed and managed to actually look concerned, even with the heat all over his face and his cock still straining. "I'll have to talk to him about teaching questionable spells to my adorable apprentice."

You moved on to the next mark, nipping at it momentarily before saying, "Talk to him about how grateful you are, right?"

You deliberately stroked his cock with your hand, making his whole body twitch.

"Ah, MC!" Solomon bit his lip.

You shook your head, but just moved on again to the next mark.

By the time you were finished, you had an overwhelmed sorcerer begging you for release.

You cupped his cheek, which was hot and slick with sweat, pressing your lips to his. "You've been so good for me."

Solomon moaned against you, squirming just a little. You kissed down his throat, his chest, his stomach, lingering on the marks as you went, maneuvering around his still bound wrists.

When you finally took his cock in your mouth, Solomon moaned out your name. You began soft and gentle, teasing the tip with your tongue. The needy sounds Solomon made were so desperate, you decided to have mercy on him. He had waited long enough. You sucked and it wasn't long until his cum was sliding down your throat.

As Solomon gasped in air from the long awaited orgasm, you stood up, wiping your mouth a little, and snapping your fingers to remove the magical thread around his wrists.

You started to move away, but as soon as his hands were free, Solomon was pulling you toward where he still knelt on the bed.

"Oh no," he said, already tugging off your shirt. "It's your turn, MC."

"What?" you demanded.

"You have pact marks, too," he said.

"Only seven!" you protested.

Solomon's arms were around you, keeping you against the bed. He rested his chin on your now bare stomach and looked up into your eyes. "Then I'll just have to add the other sixty-five marks myself, won't I?"

You were amazed at how quickly the tables had turned. Now you were the one blushing deeply. You could tell it was going to be a long night and yet you found you didn't mind at all.

masterlist | Thank you for reading!

#9DaysofSolomon #obey me #obey me nightbringer #obey me shall we date #omswd #obey me smut #obey me solomon smut #obey me solomon #om solomon #solomon obey me #obey me solomon x reader #om solomon x reader #solomon obey me x reader #misc naughty times #misc writes

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megthemewlingquim · 2 years

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Morpheus scolding a "yn" close friend or loved one for pulling an academic all-nighter.

time flies.

Summary: You've worked all night, doing a task for The Dreaming. Morpheus finds you at your desk at an ungodly hour.

Pairing: Dream of the Endless x Reader

Warnings: none

A/N: I will not be writing any huge spoilers; I have read the entire Sandman series from start to finish, but I will not give away anything that you don't already know (assuming you've seen Season 1).

It's a dark but peaceful night outside of Dream's castle. The sky is a very dark blue, starless but still lovely. The air about the Dreaming is a gentle breeze, and it's warm outside, as if summer is in full swing.

Morpheus is in a pleasant mood, it seems.

The castle itself, towering over everything else within the Dreaming, is a beautiful structure. The lights inside are a strong gold color, and they cut through the dark.

You've been in the Library of Dreams for a long while, working tirelessly on a task that Lucienne had given you. You're her apprentice — currently studying and remembering some of the titles in the Library.

A large, leather bound book sits open on your table. Next to you stand tall bookshelves, filled with countless books of numerous sizes and colors. You write in this book in front of you, filling out names of mortal authors from long ago and the books they never wrote.

G.K Chesterton.... A.A Milne.... Edgar Allan Poe... William Shakespeare...

"What're yeh doing still here?" asks a gruff voice behind you.

You turn around in your chair and see Merv Pumpkinhead, a sentient jack-o-lantern pumpkin dressed in scarecrow clothes, smoking a cigar. His eyes, for once, are not narrowed — instead, they are open in concern.

"Ah, hi, Merv," you say sleepily. "I'm... writing things down. Lucienne wanted me to study things."

"Yeah, uh, that was a couple hours ago," Merv says. He puffs at his cigar. "Maybe you should get some sleep, huh? Lucienne wouldn't want you to stay up so late. And neither would the Boss Man."

You smile at that. Morpheus.

"What do you think he's doing? Does he need sleep?"

"Who? Boss Man? I dunno, kid. I've never seen him sleep, if that helps your question. But I know you need sleep. That book will be there when you wake up tomorrow." Merv pauses, then continues, awkwardly, "Er, hopefully, it will. Sometimes things are... eaten... by whatever apparitions decide to wander the halls here, late at night..." Quickly, he perks up again. "But! I'm sure it'll be here when you get back here tomorrow morning?"

"It's alright, Merv," you mumble with a smile. "I'll go to bed. I just want to finish a couple more of these, try to rack my brain for any others I might've missed."

Merv sighs. "Alright, kiddo. Suit yourself. I'll leave you be. Just be sure to get some sleep, alright?"

"Alright," you grin. "G'night, Merv."

"Night." Merv takes his leave of you, the only evidence he was ever there is some cigar smoke still lingering in the library.

You turn back around and get back to work. All is silent in the Library, aside from the sound of your pen scratching the paper.

Christopher Marlowe... Jane Austen... J.R.R Tolkien... C.S Lewis...

Your eyes are glued to the paper, your mind racing. You're writing as fast as your mind can think, testing yourself with how many names you can remember.

Suddenly, your mind blanks. Your hand hovers over the paper, the pen in hand. You furrow your brow for a minute, your lips moving soundlessly in an attempt to go over each author you've written down.

You get to St. John the Divine of Patmos when the candle lights flicker all at once, dimming for a time and then coming back up to their full strength. Looking up, you hear another voice speak:

What are you doing here, at this hour?

Morpheus — Dream of the Endless — is standing beside you, looking down at your work, a hand on the chair you're sitting in. His voice is so soft, it doesn't startle you.

"I was... working."

Morpheus blinks. You're exhausted.

"Am I?" you say, trying to shrug off the tiredness that hangs on you. "What time is it?"

It's late, says Dream. Time has no meaning for him. Everyone else is asleep. Mervyn, Matthew, Cain and Abel... even poor Lucienne.

You think on this. If even Lucienne is asleep, it really is an ungodly hour...

What are you working on? Dream asks. What are you writing?

Wordlessly, you show the book to him. He reads over it, and his brow furrows.

You're awake... over this? Dream crouches down to and faces you, his starry eyes filled with worry. You poor thing. This is not needed. Did Lucienne ever check up on you?

"No," you say, truthfully. "But, I know why. She was too busy with the census. That's alright though, I don't mind being here. It's relaxing." You perk up. "But... Merv came to see me, just a few minutes ago."

The tiniest hint of a smile comes up over his face. Indeed? What did he say to you?

"That I should go to bed," you say.

And he was absolutely right. I think this can wait, don't you? Dream gestures with a perfectly manicured hand towards the huge leather book. Then, he lowers his hand and places it on your own.

I miss you, my love, he says gently, his voice now laced with longing. Come to bed.

How could you say no to that?

#the sandman #the sandman netflix #morpheus sandman #morpheus x reader #dream of the endless #dream of the endless x reader #morpheus #the sandman x reader #netflix the sandman

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tan1shere · 1 month

Text

Changes pt 3

Ellie Williams x female reader !

A/n: finally what you've all been waiting for, I hope you all enjoy this was such a fun story to write. I feel like I wrote this well, especially the anxiety as I suffer hugely from it, a few techniques in there of how I deal with it if you also struggle <3

Summary: Ellies the bad girl in the school but she takes a liking to the reader, everyone's worried but the reader somehow changes her for the better ... or does she ?

Warnings: MDNI. Smut at end !! Implied rape from a past relationship, anxiety, pet names, SOFT DOM ELS ! mentions of drinking and I think that's it :)

Text: orange-ellie pink-reader blue-angela

The red text is flashbacks which is near the end !!

Masterlist || pt 1 ! , pt 2 !

"It's all an act. Dont fall for any of it."

...

"She's gunna hurt you Y/n."

...

"I'm not a completely great person, maybe I'm working on it I dunno. But I don't date. I can't it's just not in me."

...

"Don't start anything with her, you're too pure for her antics."

...

"She's not changing Y/n, she will hurt you."

...

"We warned you."

It was spiraling in your brain, everyone's words including hers. You felt foolish for thinking you could change her in any way. An absolute fool. Why couldn't you of listened to everyone. All you had was hope. But that died that night, that hope was officially gone for good. You had been curled up in bed all of your Saturday. You hated to admit it but you were crying. Laying in your bed with cold tears staining your face. You had come home from that party in the exact same state.

"Oh, babe.." you heard Angela's voice softly say, bringing you into her embrace. You sunk into the feeling letting out tears. "What's up?" She asks pulling back a little. "Y-you were right. I'm such a fucking idiot." You sob. She was confused. "Woah what, slow down." Her hand rubs on your arms, bringing you with her to sit on the couch. "Me and Ellie. Well we were dating in secret, I'm so sorry for that. But we aren't anymore." She changes her expression to a more serious one. "That fucking wh-" But you didn't even want her to finish that. You knew Ellie had hurt you but it was fairly new, you still had some love for her. As troublesome that may be it was nothing but the truth. You had to get over that tho. You had to.

You were laying on your side, still mulling over those same sentences over and over again. It was like a tiny devil in your brain telling you 'you fucked up' but you soon hear your door creaking open. "I made you some sammies." Angie came in with a sweet smile. Your back was currently facing her and you didn't make any effort in changing that as you let out a dry hm. She lets out a sigh. "I won't watch you starve because of some silly girl who's hurt you. Please." You turn over looking at her. "I'll eat, just not as hungry right now." She walks over setting the plate down on your bedside table, moving to sit on your bed. "You're strong ok? I know you will get past this." You give her a tiny nod. "I might just take a nap." She nods in agreement going to leave. "Good idea."

A few minutes go by when you hear the door. You couldn't make out the voice so you continue to rest on your side. Holding the drawing she did of you in hand, staring at it. All of this, everything just wasted. You couldn't bare to look at it any longer, chucking it in a random direction, deciding to get some rest.

Ellies pov.

The night before:

"Oh this one's going to be a good one I can feel it." I say, examining the crowds of people. It was booming, that's for sure. I look at her, she looked so effortlessly pretty. It stunned me. "You're so silly." She speaks. "Come on let's get a drink." I then say, grabbing her wrist and dragging her gently with me. Her smile was brightening every bad thing in this world. "I'll be the sober help." I smile at her. "Not even one love?" She just shakes her head. "Alright, just make sure you're comfortable yeah?"

It had been maybe an hour into the party and I didn't feel completely with it. Y/n was sitting comfortably in my lap, just looking so beautiful. "Mmm I want another." I slur. And there it was, her gorgeous giggle. "You're so gone Els-" "your laughs so pretty, makes my heart warm." I blurt out suddenly. "Well that's very kind of you." She replies. But as I keep looking at her I could tell something was off, or was I daydreaming? Was the alcohol just messing with my brain. I decide to ignore it, not in my right mind. "Can you pretty please get me another drink my beautiful girlfriend." I watch as she smiles at me, probably replying but the music drowns out not only my thoughts but any formable words. Feeling her get off and leave, I could feel my brain going fuzzy too. But deep down something just didn't feel 100%. I eventually turn my head to look at her, noticing Kenny speaking to her.

That boils my blood. Why can't he just mind his own business? Stop it Ellie, you haven't been angry like this in forever, don't break that streak now. She comes back over handing me my drink, I give her a mumbled thank you. "Was he hassling you?" "Who, Kenny? Nothing I can't handle my love." As I look at her I notice her posture shift, i knew it wasn't her getting comfortable on my lap. Because if anything she looked uncomfortable.

"You alright mama?" I decide to just ask. "I'm just going to go for a pee." She states, beginning to get off. "Oh.. alright love." I'd be lying If I said I wasn't worried, but the other half of me felt dizzy, making me forget slightly what was going on. I shake my head going to get up and get another drink. When I eventually hear shuffling next to me. I turn my attention to see a dirty blonde girl. "Hey." She gently says. It takes me a moment as confusion washes over me. "Hi?" Silence. "You don't remember me?" More silence. Because no, I didn't know who the hell she was, until I take a better look. "Sophy." She smiles. "Ah so you do remember." I somehow felt awkward. "Uhmm yeah." Still really confused on why she's even talking to me. "I missed you." Stunned. "I- huh?" Now I was really baffled. "But- i kinda just left ya." It was bad, but it was the truth, why would she miss me. "Yeah well. You were still hot." I furrow my brows at a loss of words. "I- wha-" When I suddenly feel her lips on mine, I felt all too sober right then as my eyes widen. But before I could push her away- "Ehem." I hear someone clear their throat, I don't even need to turn around to know who it was.

"Fuck.." I mutter, slowly turning to face her. "Wait baby no i-" I began but suddenly my freshly poured drink was being dumped on me. I sigh. "No." She points at me. "Ellie what the actual fuck." I stare at her, saying nothing. Not even knowing what to say. Fuck, it's like it's happening all over again, speak you idiot. My eyes widen as she starts to cry.. ive never seen her cry before, safe to say I never ever wanted to witness it again. "Y/n no no please-" "After everything we've been through, after what you told me. They were wrong. You cant change for anyone. I should've listened to them." I immediately shake my head. It was all wrong. "Don't say that please- it was an accident fuck- she just-" But she cuts me off, shoving the cup into my chest. "Shut up Ellie." And I listen. I couldn't fuck things up any more then i have. Right...

It was silent, after a second or two she soon goes to leave. "Wait-" I start, but it was no use. She was gone in the swarm of people. "Fuck." I curse under my breath. I couldn't let this happen, not her. Not someone who I know I've fallen in love with. God Ellie you should've just told her. I wanted to make this right, after all she was my everything. I stride through the crowds when I spot her. I notice she isn't alone. God, does Kenny ever just fuck off. There's that anger again, but nothing was stopping me this time. I March on over there, pushing him to the ground ignoring all the fallen gasps. "Ellie what the fu-" "He touched you!" I retort. "You bitch." He starts to speak, getting off the floor and making an attempt to hit me, but he misses. "Fight round two then, you fucker." And it begun, the tiny fight between us. But I notice her going to leave. "Wait no- please let me explain!" I yell, grabbing onto her wrist. She immediately pulls back, with anger herself. "No Ellie. Don't ever touch or even speak to me again." "They weren't right, you have changed me i swear to you!" I plead, but she just shakes her head. "Once a dick. Always a dick. You. Have. Not. Changed."

And that was that. I watch as she leaves. I felt so empty like I had just lost my best friend. What the fuck was I going to do.

Missed calls. I called her so many times, I was freaking out. Think Ellie. God. This was suppose to be the one thing I didn't fuck up. I pace in my room, debating on what is the best approach. Nothing. "Come on brain. You can be creative, don't lack in that now!" There was one option. Going to her dorm and trying to talk to her, Angela. There needed to be a backup plan tho, I had no faith in the first one. I flop on my bed with a long sigh. "You made her cry.." it hurt to even look back on, her hurt features. Her anger, but most importantly those glossy eyes. I close mine trying to get the image out, laying on my back still thinking. "Fuck it." I get up and head over to her dorm. Knocking on the door hesitantly, when Angela is suddenly in sight. "Can I spe-" "No." She immediately cuts me off. "But-" "No Ellie you broke her fucking heart. Again. Why do you always do this to people." I stare at her. "This time was an accident I swear-!" She raises a brow. "You accidentally kissed someone? Yeah alright." There was no winning this. "Please just let me talk to her and explain." She looks at me, but not before shutting the door in my face. Great. What now?

It had been a few days later, and there was no sight of her in classes. Which was worrying, knowing how involved she was with the work. It was saddening to say the least. I decided to have a small wind down in the library, wanting to clear my thoughts in the safe space. When I spot her just sitting in a corner, reading. Was I dreaming? I haven't seen her in days. My feet felt like they were glued to the floor, staring. Do I go over? Talk to her? What do I say?

All these thoughts raced through my mind when I just stood up properly, beginning to head over there. I stand for a few moments in hopes she'd see a person's shoes and look up. As her head rises I notice her eyes. Tired. Worn out. Red and puffy. My heart breaks all over again, especially when her soft expression turns into a bitter glance. "I uh-" I sigh scratching my neck. "Can we talk?" There was silence. Not our enjoyable silence that we'd always share. A cold silence. "Nothing to talk about." I swallow hearing her voice for what felt like forever. And it hurt, the pain deep inside her. "Please." Pleading. I just needed to try say something. I bend down getting infront of her view, needing her to look at me. When she does I just pray she hears me out. "Go on." I soften my look, hearing how uneasy her voice was. I know I didn't mean for all of this to happen, but how could I. How could I of let her kiss me at all- my thoughts were cut off when I hear a faint cough. "She kissed me." Great going. "No really? I'm well aware." God damn Ellie. "I just- I mean, I didn't kiss back." "I saw you Ellie, that's such bullshit." I close my eyes. "Ok, well I didn't enjoy it." She scoffs. "So you admit you did kiss her back?" Now I was silenced. Shit. "Uhhh- well- fuck sake."

She shakes her head. "Just leave me alone." She says dryly, getting up from her spot about to leave. I go to grab her, but don't. Wanting to not repeat history. "Please just let me explain more." She bites her lip, and I know she's suppressing tears. "You've said enough." And so I let it be. Letting her walk off and out of the quiet building.

A few weeks. That's how long ago the library incident first happened. I hadn't seen her around since. Had she left.. like Noelle. "No, don't be silly she loves it here she would never. Not because of me, right?" I huff, that had become a habit, talking to myself. I was still on the mission to get her back or atleast explain things. But my brain was bone dry. It was currently the last class of the day, I rested my chin on the desk, still trying to think. "You know Ellie." Dina began. "Why don't you do something nice for her, give her a note saying to meet somewhere, maybe make her some food or-" I shake my head. "This isn't just some ordinary girl." Dina was honestly shocked. I turn my attention to her. "Shes more than that, I have to do something bigger." She pats my shoulder. "Maybe she has changed you Williams, cuz you've never spoken such things about anyone." It's true, she definitely did. "If this was you and Jesse had done this and you still loved him and such, what would you want him to do?" She ponders that question. "Well I suppose I'd want the truth from both. Him and this random girl." My face lights up. Genius! I smile wide going to hug her. "That's brilliant Dina! But- wait. How would I even do that." I ask. "I think you should figure this out on your own, if she really has changed you I think you should know what to do."

"I'm sorry for screwing you over." My words come out rushed, looking at Sophy with so much hope. She just looks at me. "Really?" I nod. "That's very big of you." She states. "Yeah well, just trying to mend past situations." There was a long pause, before either of us spoke. "Hey, I'm sorry for kissing you that night. I'm in no way that kind of person. Maybe when I'm drunk but I didn't even know you were seeing anyone, didn't even know the Ellie Williams ever could to be fair." The confession heals something inside me, letting that hope be reassured. "So you forgive me for being a complete jerk ages ago?" She smiles and nods. "Yeah we're cool." A sigh of relief escapes my lips. "So what's happening with her? Are you two speaking." I shook my head. "Shes mad and upset and to be honest I don't blame her. I did technically kiss you back-" "you didn't actually." I furrow my brows. "Huh-?" So incredibly confused. "But she said she saw it-" Sophy shakes her head. "Well I didn't feel anything. You must've been talking or something beforehand to make it look like you did, but you didn't. I remember most when I'm drunk and you never kissed back. Plus she caught it before it could progress."

Happy was an understatement. "That's incredible, oh my God I could just k-" we give eachother a look. "Yeah no, bad line to use." I let out a slight awkward laugh, making her shake her head with a smile.

She agreed to help me smooth things over and I was forever thankful. "How do we go about this?" She asks. I think for a moment. "Maybe you could knock on her door and ask to speak with her, and maybe clear the air. Might be best if I'm not there so you can talk properly?" "Sounds good, I don't see a problem with that." I let out a breath of relief. "Ok awesome, thank you."

And after an hour or so she was back. "So how'd it go?" I sit up. "What's something she loves?" I was incredibly confused. "Reading, painting, music. Why?" She leans on the wall. "Shes a kind person, I think she forgave the fact I had apologized, but I reckon you should now do something so she can forgive you completely." I let that sink in and I knew just the thing.

Readers pov

It had been a long day, stressful classes, tons of work. Thank fuck it was a Friday and you could wind down again. You were currently snuggled up on the couch, watching some random cheesy romcom on the TV. Considering it was a Friday that meant Angela was at her boyfriends, so dorm all to yourself. You're brought back out from your thoughts to a knock at your door. Odd. Who on earth. As you open it you spot a girl, not really even processing when you suddenly remember. "Hi, can we talk quickly?" You were shocked nonetheless. What was she even doing here. You let her in anyway, your intrigue getting the better of you. You both make your way over to the couch in silence. "I would like to apologize for kissing something that didn't belong to me." She begins. You on the other hand stay silent and let her finish. "I was drunk- and that's never an excuse, but I do, do crazy shit when I am, I'm not that kind of person sober." There was a silence for a moment. "Doesn't excuse how she acted tho. I appreciate your apology." She nods. "Well if it's any constellation, she never kissed me back." That just confuses me. "Wait she didn't?" She shook her head. "I can assure you. It was just my goofy ass's doing." It only makes you feel a little silly for not knowing the whole story. "I feel embarrassed-" "don't, if anything i probably would've done the same, besides she didn't have the best track record did she? It's no surprise you'd assume." You're now the one to shake your head. "I shouldn't of, I should've let her atleast try and explain."

"Thank you for coming to clear it up with me." You say, escorting her out the door. "Of course, only right thing to do." You nod, giving her a smile. "Although I would've liked her to of come to do so- I know she's tried but I dunno- you think shes given up on trying to fix this?" She lets out a tiny laugh. "Far from that, give it some time yeah? If you know Ellie she never half asses things she loves." You just hope that's true.

It had been a few days later. Two to be exact. And you were currently on your way back to your dorm room. You were about to get your keys when you realize it's already open. "Angie?" You begin, but once you open the door you're greeted by those green eyes. That pale, freckled skin. "Ellie-" You breathe out, setting your things down. Wondering what on earth she's doing here. You notice a few things, like her guitar, then you suddenly smell food. "What is all this." "My apology." You let her continue knowing you had been a bit hard on her. "I made your favorite meal, and I know you were busy today as it was a Friday, so let me take care of you. I'm going to play your favorite song as you relax." Your gaze softens. No one had ever done this for you. Ever. So it melts your heart completely. "Here, come sit." She gestures. You go over to the couch, sitting down as she prepares her guitar, situating it properly in her lap. She begins to play the song Fade Into You by Mazzy Star, your entire face lights up. It hadn't been this bright in awhile, and Ellie seeing that makes her truly happy. Once the song finishes she looks at you. That comfortable silence being back and better than anything. "I- that took me maybe a week to learn, and honestly it wasn't easy but its the easiest song I've ever had to lea-"

But she was cut off by you kissing her. She missed it so much, how soft and safe your lips felt against hers. She was happy again. You pull back to get a look at her. "No one's ever done anything like that for me." She smiles wide. "I've never done anything like that for anyone." She states. "Well I'm glad I was the one." Another comforting silence. "You are the one." Your heart skips a beat at her words, just hearing them makes you giddy inside. "You really think so?" She shakes her head, making you furrow your brows in confusion. "I know so." And that sudden worry was gone again. All you wanted was to kiss her, she got the feeling. Setting the guitar down and bringing you closer. Kissing you so sweetly. You both part. "Well let's eat I bet you're hungry." You nod. "Starved." Your hand reaches out grabbing the plate of pasta. "Smells amazing, I didn't know you cooked." She laughs. "Again with the assuming my love." You put your hands up in your defense. "Didn't say you didn't look like the type to! ... although." A cheeky grins spreads across your face. She lets out a chuckle going to lightly hit your arm. "You're a menace." You begin to eat the meal, and it wasn't too bad. Had all the good flavorings, the perfect amount of cheese which she knew. "No one knows me as well as this, it's quite special to me." She puts her plate down to speak. "No one?" You shook your head. "Not even my parents."

She looked shocked. "Well, glad I could be the one who listens properly. Even though it truly isn't a hard thing to do." You nod at her statement. "You are a good listener. You know how I can tell?" "How?" She leans back intrigued, you take a moment. "Whenever I talk about something and I forget what we were talking about, you always will remind me of the exact thing in best detail that I was speaking of. And always it rejogs my brain. That is how I know you're truly listening." She smiles at you. "You're so cute." The compliment makes you blush, hard. "I missed you." You blurt. "I missed you too angel, so much you have no idea."

That night had been the most relaxing night of your life. It ended with her sleeping in your bed cuddling you until you fell asleep, the safeness you felt was undeniable. It was a regular Tuesday, not too busy but also not so quiet. It all went down hill with the last assignment you got, since you had been a bit out of it recently. You must admit you were slacking. It's not like you at all but you were determined to redeem yourself. That is until the project was due in 2 days. A project this big, no way in hell you were getting it done by then. Not unless you stayed up all night and day. It didn't help that you had classes ontop of that. Stress started to arrive as you go over the assignment. You were currently at the library, skimming it over and over. You begin to bite your lip, chewing and searching for any loose skin as that seemed to help you in some way. It's like a calming technique you picked up through the years, although the consequences aren't so calming. You would forever get ulcers that prevented you from eating because of the infuriating pain. You needed to stop doing it truth be told. You were pulled from the slight manic reading when Ellie is heard. "Hey baby, whatcha doin." She sits down across from you. "Just this assignment." You give her a smile. "How was your day?" You ask her.

"Pretty boring, but hey. Not anymore." She smiles at you now too. "Wanna do something later, you can come over and we can just chill." God that sounded nice but you knew you had to decline. "You can do this and maybe I draw or practice guitar, whatever suits you." God she was so sweet and thoughtful. "That's such a beautiful offer, Els but I think I'm just going to go back to my room to try finish this." And Ellie being Ellie she was agreeing. "Ofcourse yeah! Let me know if you need some company at all." She goes to get up, but before leaving giving you a kiss. "Bye baby." You kiss her back. Once she's left you look back at the work. "Right, let's go." You say packing it up and heading to your dorm.

"Hey." Angie says coming in. "I made some food it's out there if you want it." You nod, focusing on all the papers on your bed. "Whats all this?" You look at her. "Just some work I needa catch up on." She looks at it, then you. "Ok, well please eat." "Uhuh." You didn't take your eyes off of the sheets of paper, scribbling a few words on it. She let out a sigh which you hadn't even heard her do. She leaves soon after, closing the door.

8:01

-Hey sweetheart, just checking in. Making sure everything's ok. :)

You had been so engrossed that you hadn't even felt your phone go off, let alone hear the damn thing.

8:37

-hey sorry, yeah everything's going fine.

-want that company?

-you know, yeah. I'd love that, that sounds nice.

-be there soon. <3

You stop for a moment letting out a breath, you were looking through everything when your face drops, realizing you had completely missed a whole section. "Fuck." You curse going to grab it. There was absolutely no way you were finishing this on time now, you hadn't even seen it how are you going to put this in all of a sudden. "God damn it." "Everything alright?" You jump at the sound of Ellies voice. She holds a hand out. "Woah- didn't mean to startle you it's just me." You shake your head. "Sorry- just a bit jumpy I didn't expect you yet." You reply. She looks at your bed. "This is alot of work." You sigh, trying your hardest to stay positive. You turn your focus on her. "You brought your sketch book." She smiles going to sit in your desk chair. "Sure did, needed to do some doodling." You nod at her, going to continue to figure out what to do with this crap. "What's all this even for?" She asks. "English. Kinda stupid but oh well." Her brows furrow. "You love English tho." "Mmm, I do. But not when it's like this.." you sigh again. "You alright tho?" You nod at her question, flashing a smile. "Yeah, I'm good." She smiles at your own, going to start to draw.

The next night was harder, the whole day was. Trying to find spare time to get more done. It was nearly impossible. Your stress was increasing, making your anxiety appear. You were tearing your hair out in your bedroom. "Hey, have you eaten today?" You hear Angela's faint voice. "Mhmm." You lie. She huffs. "Im worried about you." Your eyes never leave your page. "Well I'm all good in the hood." You slightly joke around by saying that silly saying. "I'm serious Y/n. You hardly have a break from that." That went straight over your head not even hearing what she's saying. She sighs going to close the door again.

-can you please come over.

-why what's up?

-she's freaking me the fuck out, she's not eating I don't even think shes fucking slept, I notice shes been acting incredibly off and it's very worrying.

-slow down, why do you think all this?

-the food from last night was still sitting out this morning. She said she'd eat it and she hasn't. Her eyes are so bloodshot I could see from the millisecond she looked at me. Her bags were prominent too.

-oh Jesus.

-please come over here, I think she really needs you right now.

-I'll be over right away.

Your breath was shakey as you talk to yourself about what you had to do. Your room was a complete and utter mess. Paper, pens, folders. Everywhere. You were so engrossed by it you hadn't even heard your door open. "Y/n?" You heard, you turn your attention to the voice. "Hm?" She saw. Ellie saw what Angela was talking about. "Angie said you haven't eaten." You wave her off. "Can't." She was confused. "And why not?" You pull your lip down to the unsurprising ulcer that had formed. You let your lip rest back, getting back to your studying. "Well I'm going to go reheat the food I'll be right back." You give her another hum, not focusing on a word that came out her mouth. When all of a sudden, the stress was just gone. Your face sits still. Uh oh. That stress had now been replaced with anxiety. Shit. You couldn't let her see you like that. You had to stay calm. But once a panic attack occurred. There was no stopping it. Your breathing became more heavier, taking in breaths to hopefully get that heavy feeling that was on your chest away. No use. It only made things worse, making you freak out again. You felt like you couldn't breath, grabbing onto your sheets feeling tears start to come. Your entire body shaking from the arising panic attack, but also from the lack of sleep. It was going to catch up eventually. It just had to be now. "It might be a bit too hot so just-" Ellie begun. But immediately put the bowl down on your nightstand.

Her movements were speedy coming to crouch down infront of you. She watched you cry your heart out, breathing as if there wasn't air. "Hey hey hey hey, look at me baby." You shake your head, never wanting her to see this. "Please." Her gentle touch makes you reluctantly do so, still letting out streams of tears, shaking uncontrollably. "Shhh." She softly let's out, rubbing your knee. "I-i can't. I can't breathe-" She stands up gently grabbing your hand and putting it to her chest. "Yes you can, youre ok I swear to you. See?" You look at her then your hand, still freaking out slightly, you can feel a ramble about to approach. "This stupid work- Its- suppose to b-be done by tomorrow and I'm nowhere near done. I can't fuck this up because I had been slacking because of everything- and then I messed up on this last night, I h-have absolutely no time during the day because of other classes everything's so messy and I don't know what to do." You sob more. Her heart shatters at your unsteady voice and sobs. She wants to hug you but also doesn't want to overwhelm you even more. "Slow down yeah, once you take a small breath you'll be ok, trust me?" She squeezes your hand reassuringly, letting you know she's right there. "Youre safe. You're going to be just fine. I'm right here." Her voice was so delicate, you let your mind listen to it feeling the sobs begin to slow. "That's it there you go. Can I give you a hug sweet girl?"

You nod at her kindness, wrapping your arms around her torso and resting your head on her chest. She softly kisses your head hugging you tightly. Your grip also tightens not wanting to let go. "Can we stay like this?" You mumbled into her hoodie. "As long as you need angel." Your eyes close, listening to her steady heartbeat. Feeling that tiredness take over. "Can you try eat a small bit before you get some well needed rest, please?" You nod sheepishly, pulling back but still keeping close to her. "Can you stay with me tonight.." Your voice was unsteady but you honestly didn't care you were more than comfortable with her seeing you like this, you thought you wouldn't be, infact you worried about it for nothing. Maybe that's the same for alot of silly things you stress over. "I still dunno what I'm going to do about this stupid work." Your head lowers, looking at your hands in your lap. She thinks for a bit. "Leave it to me ok?" Your eyes move to look at her. "No no, it's ok-" "Please baby. Let me help you." Her hands gently grab your cheeks, and you just give her a nod. "Good, let's get you to eat then some rest hm?"

It was probably a few months that had gone by, you and Ellie were stronger than ever. Doing so well. You were currently over at hers, her roommate being out, you two were just hanging about in her bed. Laughing, smiling, talking. It was a lovely way to spend your evening together. When she turns to you. "Hey pretty girl." She smirks slightly, glancing ar your lips. "Hello." You reply cheerful. You notice her eyes, wanting to kiss her, leaning in to do so. Her hands sneak to the small of your back as the kiss was slow but heated, with intense passion. "Have you." Kiss "Ever thought." Kiss .. kiss - it slowly moves to your jaw. "About sex." And your eyes go ghost. Your mind runs, your heart pounds. Because no you haven't and there's a divine reason why. "I know I have."

"Don't move you little bitch."

You swallow. "I uhm- I dunno exactly." You could tell Ellie was in the mood, and her kisses were so nice-

"Absolutely pathetic, and you're letting this happen."

You blink furiously. "You make me so happy." The kisses continue, and you freeze. Just like all those years ago. "Youre so pretty baby." Your heart rate picks up again. Your anxiety peeking. "E-ellie.." You wanted to try to tell her. Considering you haven't mentioned it yet. "Mmm?" Her kisses move down to you neck, everything was soft but..

"Dumb. Fucking. Cunt."

You could feel slight tears. "Is this ok?" She asks. And when you don't respond she asks again. "Baby?" Then suddenly she feels something wet hit her nose. "My love?" She looks up this time, seeing the small tears. "Hey, hey." Her voice was velvet, making more tears fall. If anything you weren't as scared to do sex all over again, you felt so incredibly safe with her, and remembering all those flashbacks just proved how new all this was. It felt foreign. "Talk to me pretty." She goes to softly stroke your hair. "Was it something I said?" You just shake your head wrapping your hands around her wrist gently. "You're perfect." A silence. "Then why are you crying sweetheart." Her voice was as tender as her touch and you knew you were in love with this woman. "Because you're perfect." She smiles brightly. "Years ago, I was with this girl. We were together for 2 years when near the end she got incredibly toxic with me. And she well in some words-" You didn't even need to finish your sentence, Ellie knew and immediately hugged you. You returned it tightly, like you always did. That silence came back and it was incredibly comforting. "I love you." You hear her voice whisper in your ear. Pulling back to look at her a little surprised. "You don't have to say it b-" But you cut her off bringing her in for a kiss again. "Yes." That confused her. "I've thought about it with you and yes." Then the smiles return, and so do the heated kisses.

After a short while she moved to be more ontop of you but stops briefly. You look at her, she looks way too good right now. "Can I eat you out angel." Her face was close to yours but the way she asked only turned you on more, the fact she's such an angel with this all is an even bigger turn on for you. "Please do." You breathe. Feeling her slowly take off your shirt, she looks at your breasts admiringly. "You're flawless." You felt heat rise to your cheeks, but not because you were anxious or anything, because your whole body felt like it was heating up, all because of how loving she was. She moves her lips to kiss one slowly turning into a gentle suck, around the skin and on your hardened bud. You breathe out, but even that sounded pretty to Ellie. Making her close her eyes at everything right now. She couldn't get enough of you. "You're so beautiful, so incredibly pretty." She blabs on. Her kisses move down your stomach. Keeping with her tender like touch. She slowly but surely pulls your pajama pants down along with your underwear. She takes a moment to take this all in. "Want to take my time yeah? Promise it's not in a teasing way. You truly don't deserve that especially not right now. Just want to savor hm?" You nod, biting your lip ever so slightly.

"You sure it's ok mama?" She rubs circles on the fat of your thigh. You give her a nod but she shakes her head. "Wanna hear you verbally say it, please?" Your smile grew. "Yes Ellie I promise its ok, please do it." Your soft voice made her smile grow. "Angel girl.." She began, gently stroking your clit. Your breath hitches at the feeling. "Need to make you feel good, gotta." Her mouth slowly comes down to you, licking softly. Delicately. That then turns into sucking and she did not disappoint. She in fact was making you feel good. Amazing even. She keeps the pace, eventually looking up at you and the way you'd react to everything. When you felt her tongue go in you, you lost it entirely. Your mouth hung open with so much pleasure everything felt so natural. It always did. "Mmm, knew you'd be as sweet tasting.. such a perfect girl." You let a moan slip. "E-ellie i-" "Mhmm, feel you clenching on my tongue. I got you baby. I got you." This woman didn't make you last long at all but in hindsight. You were not at all complaining. Because as you began to cum, you feel the most incredible orgasm approaching. You felt content, safe. Secure. "Thereee you go Angel. Atta girl." She mumbles letting you ride out your high on her tongue. "Mmm Ellie please I need you so bad." She licks her lips coming up to your face. "Yeah love?" You nod. She goes to take off her clothes, going to get back ontop of you.

But she stops again. "Why don't we try this." She goes to lay down on her back getting you to straddle her. "You be in control okay? I'm right here to help. Just want to make sure this is perfect for you. All I want." You look at her lips, leaning down to kiss them. Her hands tangle in your hair, giving you a tender scalp massage as the two of you kiss. You situate so your pussys directly on hers, not moving just yet, going to sit up a bit. You begin to move shortly after. Watching as you both open your mouths. Her soft grunt made your stomach do flips. "You're so perfect Els.." Your breath became uneven, in the best way possible. She looks down at the two of you then back at your face, your features. "God your ethereal." Another moan escapes you as you speed up. "Good girl, doing so good." The praise went straight to your core helping egg your orgasm on. "C-Can we cum together, please?" Her heart fluttered at your words. "Ofcourse my angel. Wouldn't want anything more than to do so." Your pace picked up again, letting more moans slip from your pink lips. "So well, so incredibly good. Fuck." You knew she was getting close you could just tell. And so were you. Her hands rest on your thighs, squeezing the flesh. "Ready mama?" You nod with her, cumming with moans. Grunts. Of eachothers names even. As you rode out your high making sure Ellies was met too, your body became weak. Flopping onto her torso. "I love you, Ellie." You say back from about 30 minutes ago. Her smile was like it was tattooed onto her face. "You truly have changed me, Y/n.. and for the better." You close your eyes. Feeling yourself drift of to sleep. She kisses your head, stroking your hair gently. "Wanna marry you some day even.."

:))

#elliewilliams #ellie the last of us #ellie williams #ellie tlou #ellie x reader #ellie x fem reader #ellie williams smut #ellie williams the last of us smut

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pinguwrites · 5 months

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Sub!Robert Fischer where he's tied up and being overstimmed repeatedly. He's crying his eyes out while reader degrades him for being spoiled and rich (I've been reading ur work for some time, but requesting for the first time!)

I’m glad you like my work and I’m glad you requested as well!

Drabble: you degrade and overstimulate Rob

pairing | sub!robert fischer x girlfriend!reader

Warning: overstimulation, degradation/ a little bit of praise, loads of crying from rob, impact play, dom/mean!reader, sub!robert, daddy issues, p in v sex, mention of teasing/edging, robert's a masochist at this point, they have a safeword, ma'am kink

Disclaimer: Inception characters, plots, quotes, etc. do not belong to me and belong to the rightful owner(s). This is only fanfiction and this is just for fun.

A/N: Sorry I haven't posted in a while. I wrote like 7k for one fic, and 6k for another, and I progressively got slower the closer I got to finishing, it's like a fucking exponential graph. That's why I haven't been writing smaller things, but you know what? Fuck that. I told myself I was going to stay dedicated but now I'mma just do what I want.

Robert gazed up at you as you crawled on top of him, his lower lip wobbling, tears dripping down his cheek like rain. He savored the brief touch of your hands on his chest, and whined when you moved away, but he made sure not to be too loud, lest he get some punishment.

"Ma'am?" Robert asked tentatively, not sure wether he was alowed to speak or not.

"Yes, Rob?" you hummed, focusing on tightening his restraints. Just a few minutes before Robert had been squirming and squealing, tugging on his ropes, and now that you were done with that particular bit of torture, you had to make sure they were secure again.

“Can you ride me?” he asked. “Please?”

"Dunno."

Robert shifted his legs. Gosh, you loved his legs. His thighs were so soft and lightly haired, you loved running your hands across them, no matter how many times he complained your touch was cold.

"Do you think you deserve it?" you added.

"You've been edging me for so long," he pathetically whimpered. "I need — "

" — Of course you do," you cut him off. "What am I even saying? You rich fuckers are all the same — spoiled, bratty. Just a need a strong woman to put them in their place, huh?”

Robert's eyes glistened. He was about to sob again. Good thing you brought tissues.

"It's not like that. Please, just . . ."

"Then what's it like?"

Robert stayed silent, clearly afraid of saying the wrong thing. You already knew the answer. It was his fetish, his kink, but he also liked being cared for and nurtured and guided. You just wanted to hear him say it, but judging at way he was behaving, you weren't sure if you could get a coherent response out of him that wasn't a beg to be fucked.

You slapped him across the face, savoring the little noise he made.

"Should've known your mouth was no good for anything. Stupid puppy."

"Yeah," he nodded eagerly, his cock twitching. "M'just a stupid puppy for you. Please, please, fuck me."

"Won't even offer to eat me out? You haven't made me come a single time today."

Robert looked down, embarrassed.

"Fine."

Without a warning you sunk down onto his cock, drenching him with your wet juices, your tits bouncing in the air. He let out a moan, his head hitting the pillow, eyes closing, relaxing as he finally, finally got the release he wanted.

But when he came, you didn't stop. You still hadn't come, and you weren't stopping until you did.

"Pretty boy," you said, then looked down with a fake pout. "Aww? Is this too much for you?"

"Y-yes," he choked out.

"Well, you're gonna have to fucking deal with it."

He shook his head adamantly.

"Isn't this what you asked for?" His eyes rolled. You pat his cheeks, getting him to focus on you. "Color?" you asked.

". . . Ah, greeeen!"

"There ya go," you cooed, moving your hips up and down. "I wouldn't be doing this if I knew you couldn't handle it. Now, tell me — tell me you're my bitch."

"I'm your bitch!" Robert sobbed, his body shaking. "I just need you so bad all the time, ma'am, I can't help myself."

"I know," you soothed, wiping his tears. "I know. You're doing so well."

That seemed to calm him down a little. Praise always did.

"I just wanna be good for you, ma'am." You could tell he was getting ready to come again.

"You are — you're a good boy," you reassured. "Now stop squiggling, okay? Or I'm going to have to punish you again."

Robert nodded, feeling like his brain was melting. At this point, you could do anything to him and he would be on his knees, thanking you.

Taglist: @henrywintersdearestgirl @shroombloom-rry @meetmeatyourworst @mrkdvidal1989 @madnessandobsession @slut4thebroken

#robert fischer #robert fischer x you #robert fischer x reader #robert fischer x y/n #cillian murphy #fanfiction #pinguwrites #inception

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its-time-to-write · 7 months

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Jamie tartt friends with benefits would be very fun! I love how you write Jamie it’s so so incredibly lovely

I wrote this bc I’m mad about old men trying to tell me how to do my job.

soft hands hit the jagged ground

It starts off as a joke, really.

You’re both at the same party and arguing about who’s the better kisser, when suddenly your lips are on Jamie’s and neither of you are quite sure who made the first move.

You don’t talk much, just enough to say that this competition extends to other physical activities and to order a car, so a few hours later you collapse exhausted on the bed in your flat.

“Fuck,” Jamie gasps.

“Fuck,” you agree.

“We’ve got to do this again sometime,” he says, hand on his stomach as he stares up at the ceiling.

“Give me ten minutes,” you reply. “Can’t let my twenties go to waste now, can I?”

So yeah, it’s like a thing.

It’s not a romantic thing, that’s for sure.

It’s a “we just won a match” thing, or a “I had a shit day at work” thing, or “I need to blow off steam and can’t be bothered to pick up a stranger at the club” thing.

No, romance does not factor in. This is strictly a friendship-type deal.

It’s great, because neither of you actually has time for a relationship, and hookups are so hit or miss. And besides, you’ve never been extremely thrilled at the idea of some random person knowing where you live. And Jamie’s a little worried that someone will try to steal his jerseys.

(Not worried enough, apparently, because you manage to make off with one from his Man City days.)

You both swore that neither of you would catch feelings and maybe that would have been true except for the evening Jamie called you and said, “Can I come over?” in a voice you’ve never heard before.

You’ve barely hung up the phone when he’s knocking at your door, dressed in a suit and actual dress shoes, not trainers, hands leaving your body only for a moment to shut the door and turn the lock.

He kisses you like he’s got all the time in the world, all slow and hungry.

He touches you almost like you’re someone else, and you’d think it’s strange except you can’t think of anything other than the fact that his body is pressed against yours and he’s holding you like it means something.

You don’t say anything until you’re walking back to your room wrapped in a towel, water bottles in hand.

“What was that about?” you ask, handing him his water.

Jamie barely lifts his head. He decides not to play dumb, to be a little bit truthful. He’s not sure why, maybe because he’s still coming down and his brain doesn’t work proper.

“Me and the lads were at a funeral today. For Ms. Welton’s dad. Made me feel all fuckin’… strange and shit. Dunno.” He takes a sip of his water and you settle in the bed next to him.

You nod and say, “Makes sense.” It does. Funerals are fucking strange. The last one you went to had you feeling weird for a month so yeah, you get it.

You’re both silent for a while longer when Jamie blurts out, “I told Keeley I still loved her,” and then you’re silent again, but it’s a different kind of quiet. The kind where you can practically hear the words oh shit hanging in the air.

A couple things click into place where they probably shouldn’t, and so you take your cues from Jamie and say what’s on your mind as you blurt out, “Is that who you were thinking of?”

Jamie goes completely still, which is also strange because he’s never still. Always tapping or shifting around or something.

“Right,” you say, far too brightly. It’s fine, after all. “I understand. Yeah, no, makes sense.”

You’re not sure what else to say after that so you kind of just sit there and wait for Jamie to move again. He does, sits up enough to grab his knickers from where he dropped them off the side of your bed, slide them on, and say, “Better get going. It’s getting late.”

“Yeah,” you say halfheartedly, suddenly very, very tired. It’s doesn’t escape your notice that Jamie doesn’t meet your eyes the entire time he collects his clothes and heads out the door.

You manage to get up and fish a new pair of underwear from one drawer and a sleep shirt from another, and it’s not until you’re back in your bed that you realize it’s Jamie’s 51 kit.

But you’re too tired to get up and change so you just leave it and pass out.

—

You wake up the next morning with way too many emotions to consider, so you let yourself buy a coffee from the shop instead of making one at home. You get an extra shot of espresso to block out the great big warning bells firing in your head.

You’re not-so-blissfully unaware of the fact that Jamie’s on the other side of town having a similar morning. One that involves going to Nelson Road early to sneak in some extra cardio so he can work off whatever feelings still linger from last night.

For a brief moment, he considers going to Dr. Sharon. But no, there’s no need for that because it’s all straightforward, innit? He’s a little fucked from the funeral and telling Keeley he loves her, and all he needs is one more good fuck and then it’s all out of his system.

Except whenever he thinks about your face of all body parts, his chest gets all squeezy. And worse.

So maybe it’s not so straightforward.

He does fucking love Keeley, right? He’d take a bullet for her, and he misses talking to her every day. He scrunches up his face and imagines kissing her, nothing too wild, and it doesn’t make his chest tighten.

That’s a good thing.

Right?

—

By the time you get home from work, you’ve decided that it’s fine. It’s weird that he was thinking about someone else, but it doesn’t mean anything. Honestly, you two are just messing around until one of you decides to get into a relationship. So yeah, it’s all good. It’s not like you’d date him anyway.

You’ve been pushing away thoughts like that for years, you’re not about to let them surface now.

—

Jamie does not particularly want to talk to Dr. Sharon about this. He wants to talk to Keeley, except last time he tried that she walked him all the way to the therapist’s office and left him there.

He thinks maybe Ted would be good, except he’s not sure Ted would know how to deal with Jamie’s whole “friends with benefits” situation.

Beard probably would, except his relationship with Jane is one step away from psychotic, so Jamie thinks that he’ll talk to Sam because Sam is smart and probably won’t judge him.

It works out, actually, because he’s going over to Sam’s for a sleepover since they have an out-of-town match the next day, and need to be up early. Jamie hates waking up early so Sam promised to make sure he wouldn’t press the snooze button on his alarm.

So yeah, now he’s in Sam’s car (a fucking Tesla, all eco-friendly and shit) and they’re talking about training and brand deals and Jamie asks if Sam’s got a girl, but Sam just blushes and says I don’t know, not anymore before turning the question on Jamie.

Jamie sighs and puts his face in his hands. “Let’s wait till we ain’t in your fucking car, yeah? It’s too fucking long to say here.”

Sam obliges and just turns up the radio for next eight minutes it takes to get to his house.

Jamie hauls his bag into Sam’s flat and down on the guest room floor before taking a deep fucking breath.

Right. He can do this.

He makes his way to the kitchen where Sam’s pulling something out of a crock pot and Jamie is a little envious of his ability to cook so well for himself.

Sam is oblivious to Jamie’s internal monologue as he says, “Alright, this girl. Tell me about her.”’

Jamie takes another breath and then the words just come spilling out.

“I’ve known her since we were fucking…fifteen or some shit and like, we’ve always been friends. But lately it’s been like, what’s the word, friends with benefits? Where we have sex but aren’t dating. It’s been alright, mostly, except yesterday I told Keeley I loved her and things got all fucked up in me head.”

“How so?” Sam prods encouragingly.

“It’s like…” Jamie pauses. What is it like? “Thinking about kissing Keeley didn’t make me all tingly or nothing. Dunno, felt- wrong. But I think of her face-” he groans. “Shit, man, me heart started pounding like mad. I’ve seen her naked, and it’s her face that gets me. I mean, what the fuck is that?”

Sam’s face is doing some weird contortionist movement, trying to hide his expression, so Jamie says, “Fucking hell man, spit it out before you break something,” and Sam says,

“I don’t think you love Keeley.”

That makes Jamie mad. Of course he loves Keeley. He’d do anything for Keeley.

Sam must see it written in his face because he hurries on. “I don’t mean that you don’t have love for her. I mean that you do not seem to love her romantically. It would seem to me you like this other girl.”

Well shit. That’s exactly what Jamie was afraid of. Leave it to Sam to get to the heart of the problem in five minutes, only this leaves him with another problem:

He’s spent the last nine years pretending like he had only friendly feelings toward you. Innocent, like.

He can’t let all that pretending go to waste now.

—

You don’t see each other for a week which is fine, because you had decided way beforehand not to meet up until the next weekend. You were finishing a major project at work and he was wrapping up a killer week at training. Hence, Friday night was the night to blow off all that steam.

You’ve successfully squashed any feelings for Jamie. They’re gone, buried deep down once again and you will not let them come back up.

And yet, you’ve put on a pink set under your shirt and sweat shorts, with a little more makeup than you’d gone to work with. Maybe the whole Keeley thing is lingering in your head a little more than you thought.

Whatever. Doesn’t matter.

You grab your keys and head out the door to Jamie’s house.

—

Jamie’s already texted you to let you know the door’s open, so you slip in and turn the lock behind you. The foyer is lit with a dim glow from upstairs.

“Jamie?” you call softly, “You here?”

There’s no response, so you pad up the stairs, stopping only to drop your keys on top of the table in the hall.

“Jamie?” you say again, peering into his bedroom. Ah. So that’s where the light’s coming from.

Jamie jumps from where he’s been bending over a candle. “Shit, you scared me. Didn’t hear you fucking come in.”

You smile tentatively, unsure what to say. Jamie shakes out the match and crosses over to the ensuite to drop it into the sink. He comes back out again and dips you into a kiss.

He says, “Nice shirt,” with his lips still against yours, and it’s only then that you remember you’ve put on his old kit, the one you stole the second time you went home with him.

You grin and kiss him again, waiting to be on your own two feet again so you can slide a hand under his sweatshirt. Neither of you have worn anything particularly amazing because it’s what’s underneath that counts, isn’t it?

Jamie’s thinking something similar because he starts backing you up to the bed as you fumble to slip shirts over heads and pants down on the floor. He traces an appreciative palm over a pink flower appliqué, and then you push the last traces of doubt as he hooks a finger under your waistband.

—

“What’s with all the candles?” you ask, when it’s dark enough to be considered nighttime but the clock says it’s technically morning.

“Setting the mood,” Jamie replies, voice gravely and just a little bit raw.

“Hmm,” you say. “Glad you didn’t burn the house down.”

Jamie’s been pressing kisses up your bare arm and you can feel him grin at that. “Psh. I’m an adult now. I’m fuckin’ responsible.”

“Sure,” you chuckle, then shiver as Jamie’s mouth has found its way to a spot behind your ear. “You ready to go again?”

“No,” Jamie replies between kisses, “What makes you think that?”

“Just a hunch,” you say as you roll on top of him. You trace his lower lip with your thumb, and he takes that opportunity to his it. And to run his knuckles up your sides.

“Fucker,” you hiss. “That tickles.”

He smirks, a real one, with his eyes all heavy-lidded and the barest hint of his teeth gleaming in the candlelight.

“Yeah?” he whispers. “What about this? Does this tickle?”

He actually fucking dances his fingertips up your sides as you gasp and try to get off of him. He’s not having it, because he rolls you over and continues tickling you as if you hadn’t just been fucking fifteen minutes ago.

You’re laughing and half-heartedly pushing at him and it’s so ridiculous that you stop trying to get him away and instead press as much of your skin against his as you can.

He’s whispering in your ear, a combination of crude jokes and compliments, the kind that makes a blush bloom from your chest all the way to the tips of your ears.

God fucking damn it, he’s going to be the death of you, but you can’t make yourself stop smiling.

He’s still murmuring in your ear and he’s saying something about how fucking gorgeous you look, how fucking beautiful you’d look on the side of the pitch with his number on or as his date to some event and how everyone would be jealous because you’re so fucking hot, but you belong with him and he’s the one who gets to see you last thing at night and first thing in the morning.

It’s so utterly ridiculous.

He’s only saying it because he’s so far gone.

It’s so. Utterly. Ridiculous.

“Jamie, we can’t date,” you say between giggles.

He pauses to ask “Why not?” and the remnants of your laughter die in your throat. Oh shit. One good look at his face tells you he’s not joking.

“Jamie,” you say again, this time more seriously, “Jamie, we really can’t date. That’s not how this works. You’re supposed to date a model or an actress or something, and I’m supposed to date, like, an accountant. Or a lawyer.”

“Why?” Jamie asks, accent thick as it’s ever been.

“Because,” you reply. “I’m not really the trophy-girlfriend type. And… we’ve been friends pretty much forever. It’d mess everything up when we break up.” He’s still on top of you, propping himself up on his elbows so he can see your face. You want to point out that this is a conversation that probably requires clothing, but you don’t actually want that so you stay silent.

“What if we didn’t break up?” he suggests.

You bark out a short laugh. “It doesn’t work like that. You can’t just choose not to break up.”

“Can,” he responds.

“Can’t,” you counter.

“Don’t be Roy Kent,” he says.

“Don’t tell me what to do,” you reply. “And anyway, I’m way sexier than him. And less scratchy.”

“You fucking like when I tell you what to do,” he says.

You make a face. “I like it when it’s sexy. This is not sexy. This is sad and stupid, and we promised we wouldn’t have this conversation.”

“You promised,” Jamie reminds you. “I just didn’t disagree.”

He’s not wrong.

“Fine,” you say, pushing him a little so he’ll get off you.

You sit up and wrap the sheets around your chest, pulling your knees close. “You told me less than a week ago that you were still in love with Keeley, and now you want me to date you? I love you, but you’re just getting your wires crossed because we’re having sex.”

Jamie shoots up, mouth open and you realize what you just said.

“Shit, not like that, I mean as a friend, not- not as- I don’t know, I didn’t mean to say that,” you stutter out.

“I love Keeley as a friend,” Jamie says. “Talked to Sam about it, and he says I don’t know how to tell the difference between a friend and fucking romance. He said I’m fucking in love with you, not her, and he’s fucking right.”

You’d say that sounds like the dumbest thing you’ve ever heard, except you’ve known Jamie for nine years and yeah, that sounds like something he’d do.

“Right,” you say slowly, “and you just now started feeling this way?”

He hesitates before deciding fuck it. “Nah. I think- I’ve been pretending like I didn’t since we were like, fuckin’ sixteen, probably. Didn’t want to screw it up though, did I?”

You shake your head before saying, “No, I guess not.”

“And anyway, us being together is that different from what we do now,” he continues. “Dating just means we can like, hold hands.”

You laugh and ask, “Is that the only thing that’s going to change?” but you can feel your resolve softening. Jamie can feel it too.

“Nah,” he says, feeling confident to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “I can tell you that I love you. And kiss you just because. And get me mum off my back about never making a move on you.”

You say, “Hmm,” as if you’re considering it, but he knows you’ve already made your decision by the way you reach for him with both hands with a smile beginning to bloom across your face.

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt #ted lasso

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