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#and anyway it's like. now you can actually sit here in the morning and look out the window at the extremely beautiful view
t1oui · 2 days
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@jegulus-microfic | april 25th | headlights | 1,222 words | cw: mentions of a car accident, hospitals, mentions of smoking (nothing graphic)
Regulus tries so hard to think that Sirius is an idiot. That bloody thing'll kill you, he remembers saying. Sirius had only laughed. No one's laughing now.
It was just a Friday night. Regulus got home from work late and was looking forward to doing nothing until Monday morning. Was looking forward to being alone, sitting around with popcorn and staring at the telly until he fell asleep. Now, the idea of a simple night in feels light years away.
He never gets what he wants.
Sitting on a stiff white chair outside Sirius's room at St. Mungo's, Regulus's leg bounces up and down at a frantic pace, mind racing. Didn't he see the headlights? Didn't he try and stop? It wasn't his fault, they said. Regulus's older brother is in a hospital bed and he wants to strangle the idiot who put him there.
Remus is sitting across from him, eyes red-rimmed and body curled in around himself. He arrived before Regulus. Pettigrew was pacing until Remus yelled at him and he mumbled something about getting a coffee.
It feels like hours before Potter arrives. Regulus and Remus are only taking up two of maybe eight seats crowded into the hallway, but James sits right next to him. He's crying, too busy looking at his phone to pay Regulus any mind beside him.
"Why are you here?" Regulus grumbles. He sounds like shit. The corridor is far too bright for someone who wants to crawl into a hole and never come out. James glances up at him, looking confused and distressed and tired. God, Regulus is so fucking tired.
"My best friend is... he's...." James gestures helplessly to the room behind them. They're not whispering, but their voices are hoarse. Remus isn't paying attention anyway - he's been staring into space for hours now. "He's in there."
"No," Regulus says, shaking his head in frustration. He hates when people don't understand him. "Why are you... here. There's so many seats."
James stares at him for a moment. He still holds his phone in his lap - if Regulus looks closely, he can see the name Lily written across the top of the screen with a pink flower beside it. James opens his mouth to speak, but Regulus interrupts him, pointing to the phone.
"That's a hibiscus flower, you know."
"What?" James doesn't sound like he's actually processing anything Regulus is saying. Regulus presses his finger next to Lily's contact name. He remembers her from school. He never liked her much.
"The flower here," he says. "It's not a lily. It's a hibiscus."
James sniffles, shrugging helplessly. "There's no lily emoji," he says. "This one's good enough."
Regulus doesn't say that he thinks that's sort of stupid. He's too tired to, and he knows James doesn't really care. Who does?
"I don't want to be lonely," James tells him. Regulus stares at his ear.
"What?"
"You asked," James says, shrugging again. He shrugs a lot. "Why I sat next to you."
Regulus looks up, glances over to Remus. He's managed to gather all of his limbs up onto the small hospital chair and is staring into space, eyes glazed over, arms wrapped around his knees. "Why didn't you sit next to him?"
James's answer comes so quiet that he has to lean closer to hear. "I'd still be alone."
Regulus stares at him. "Oh." He wonders where Pettigrew's gotten off to. Wonders if Lily will come to take James home, will gather Remus into the car too. Wonders who will take him home now that the motorcycle he hates so much is nothing more than a pile of scraps, its owner not much more.
"D'you wanna see a picture of my cat?" James asks. Regulus looks back at him. James is tilting his phone towards Regulus, even though he never answered, and Regulus finds himself leaning closer again to look. His cheek brushes James's shoulder, and he expects James to tense up - they barely know each other. James is probably humoring him, but his best friend's weird little brother leaning his head on his shoulder is probably the last straw. James is just being nice because he's sad. Last Regulus heard, he has a pretty girl and a son waiting for him at home.
But James leans into the touch. Regulus is too tired to pull away. (Part of him doesn't want to pull away. He tells this part to be quiet.)
"Her name's Leo," James says, holding up his phone to reveal a small gray tabby. The smile is evident in his voice, which is soft and close to Regulus's ear. It sounds like a lullaby. "Harry named her."
"Leo," Regulus says softly. James's curls are tickling his cheek. It's not an unpleasant feeling - it reminds him of walking barefoot over grass on a sunny day.
"Like the constellation," James explains. "It's Haz's favorite. 'Course, he is a Leo, so he's a bit biased there...."
Regulus glances down and notices his fingers loosely intertwined with James's. He doesn't remember doing that.
"Leo's the constellation -" he begins.
"Your star," James replies. He sighs softly, content but a little shaky. "Yeah."
They're both silent for a while. It's weirdly comfortable, even in the buzzing hospital, even with Remus sitting numb across from them and Sirius laying unconscious behind them and Peter knocking around, probably smoking the pack of cigarettes Regulus saw him slip out of Remus's pocket before he disappeared.
"Is Lily going to pick you up?" Regulus asks.
"She has Harry tonight," James says instead of answering. It only leaves Regulus with more questions.
"I thought..." Regulus begins, but he doesn't know what he thinks, not really. James seems to, though.
"We broke up," he says simply. He shrugs a little, only one shoulder, trying not to jostle Regulus's head. "Few years ago."
Regulus is quiet for a while. He remembers school, seeing James's golden-brown arm wrapped around Lily's pale shoulders. He remembers a pang of pain at the sight, feels it now, a dull ache located deep within his chest. "I'm sorry to hear that," he says, but he doesn't sound sincere.
"Don't be," James says. He's turned his head, and his lips brush just barely against Regulus's forehead. He should pull away, but instead, he just closes his eyes. "She's my best friend."
Regulus squeezes James's hand. "I'm glad you're here," he whispers.
James squeezes back. "I'm glad you're here, too," he replies.
He sets his phone down on his lap, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a jumbled ball of headphones. He tries for a minute or so to untangle them one-handed before finally sighing and pulling his fingers out from between Regulus's, pulling the earbuds into his phone. He hands one to Regulus.
"Put it in," he says, watching Regulus do nothing.
"Why?" Regulus asks.
"It's too... something in here."
Regulus gives him a small smile as he puts the earbud in. It fits weird, but not uncomfortable weird like he remembers. Just different. As he settles his head back onto James's shoulder, a soft melody begins to play into his ear. James sets the phone down on his knee before taking Regulus's hand again, resting his head against Regulus's curls. Regulus takes a deep breath, closing his eyes.
Maybe this night won't be as long as he thought.
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aeide-thea · 5 months
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poäng appreciation post 💛
#i forget if i said but Baby Sister and i stopped off at ikea on the way back from picking her up at the bus stop on monday#and finally replaced the ruined-by-a-succession-of-cats-(in-ways-both-unsightly-and-gross) Accent Chair in the living room#with a poäng rocker (bc the shape is a little more interesting and less instantly recognizable than the regular chair) in birch (my beloved#also they make fancy tufted cushions for it now! wish they came in more colors but it's a real improvement on sad options past#and anyway it's like. now you can actually sit here in the morning and look out the window at the extremely beautiful view#and the chair actually supports you??? like i could see down the road trying to work out some kind of custom cushioning that's thicker#but the shape of the frame is so ergonomic for me that it's genuinely quite comfortable regardless. bentwood exocorset…#anyway. not a very original post but i just DO really love ikea#like yes it's a mixed bag but also honestly if you're buying particle board—#(i was going to say 'and expecting it to hold up' but. honestly i think it's just. if you're buying particle board period)#—that might be on you.#(like. if you're being pressed in from all sides by budget constraints and immediate need and no accessible better-made used alternatives—#obviously you do what you have to. but it's like buying pleather—you know‚ or should‚ that the material is going to disintegrate.)#but the things ikea makes with decent materials are remarkably well-designed and affordable for what they are‚ has been my sense?#you just gotta shop carefully but like. that's true literally everywhere.#anyway. in conclusion i love my new buddy with its clean lines. …do people name chairs ever.#i've never before had the urge but this one feels like a little assembly-line friend that deserves its own identity. like a star wars clone#(lol what if i gave it a little nametag somewhere hidden. secret identity talisman 4 chairpal.)#(& yes i promise i'm as aware of the‚ uh‚ itself-ness of this tag spiral as you are. :) )#domesticities
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floral-hex · 2 months
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woke up at 4am feeling the weight of my life crushing me, so I’ve been sitting out in my car for the last couple of hours because I just need. to. be. somewhere else.
#tumblr ate something like this but I think I deserve to shout uselessly into the void#shits rough dawg#I know it’s rough for everyone. I feel shitty even talking about myself. still… compelled to vent… big butts#haven’t really been on here much since it hasn’t really scratched that itch lately & just makes me feel lonelier#it’s cold#saw the Jazzercise studio open across the street. 5am for Jazzercise? wow. early.#and then everyone left an hour and a half later. lights out. everybody gone. weird schedule. I am perplexed.#went down the road and got a soda and I’ve been sitting in my driveway contemplating for the last 2.5 hours#guy at the gas station tried to talk to me but I just half assed a smile and nod and left#even though I know I’d love to just… talk to someone. I suppose it has to be ‘on my terms’ whatever those are#I miss having a therapist. or even just when my little brothers would talk to me. when anyone would. blegh#my insurance is still a mess and I’m about to run out of one of my blood pressure meds this week#maybe I’ll have a stroke. scary to think about. I think about dying a lot but that potential feels too real. just… pop! and I’m done.#I’ll try today to finally push to straighten it out but everything feels daunting#woke up with so much anxiety. about my health. my hearing. no money. my life. had to get out of the house even if it’s just right outside#hate to say it but I need(want) thc. haven’t wanted to spend money on it but I could have really used it this morning#can’t be sad if you can’t feel anything (jokingly but also not. whichever is less sad sounding)#actually treated myself to Dune 2 last week and it was so so good. wish I could go again. but it’s drugs food or movie right now. so…#I know. dumb priority but BIG SCREEN. maybe it’ll hit theaters again for the next awards season hopefully. just a real nice loud experience#anyway… I should go inside. almost 7am. need to take my brothers to school then drive my mom to her daily appointments#I’ve felt so hollow and angry and sad for so long it feels like. I feels so weak and sad and I’m tired of it. I’m so tired.#I’ve been eating about 1 meal a day and sleeping a lot. this is the worst my body has ever been. I feel like I’m just waiting to die.#is this relatable?#just have to look past it. it is nothing. this body is nothing. just enjoy your soda.#gonna look at pictures of butts now#ok gotta go I love you goodbye forever#you can ignore this#text
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mcmansionhell · 6 months
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pre-recession, post-taste
Hello, everyone. I hope this blog can bring some well-needed laughs in really trying times. That's why I've gone back into the archives of that precipitous year 2007, a year where the McMansion was sleepwalking into being a symbol of the financial calamity to follow. We return to the Chicago suburbs once more because they remain the highest concentration of houses in their original conditions. Thanks to our flipping predilection, these houses become rarer and rarer and I have to admit even I have developed a fondness for them as a result.
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Our present house is ostensibly "French Provincial" in style, which is McMansion for "Chateaux designed by Carmela Soprano". It boasts 7 bedrooms, 8.5 bathrooms, and comes in at a completely reasonable 15,000 square feet. It can be yours for an equally reasonable $1.5 million.
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Every 2007 McMansion needed two things: a plethora of sitting rooms and those dark wood floors. This house actually has around five or six sitting rooms (depending if you count the tiled sunroom) but for brevity's sake, I'll only provide two of them.
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With regards to the second sitting room, I'm really not one to talk statuary here because beside me there is a bust of Dante where the sculptor made him look simultaneously sickly and lowkey hot.
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Technically, if we are devising a dichotomy between sitting and not sitting (yes, I know about the song), the dining room also counts as a sitting room. The more chairs in your McMansion dining room, the more people allegedly like you enough to travel 2.5 hours in traffic to see you twice a year.
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Here's the thing about nostalgia: the world as we knew it then is never coming back. In some ways this is sad (kitchens are entirely white now and marble countertops will look terrible in about 3 years) but in other ways this is very good (guys in manhattan have switched to private equity instead of betting the farm on credit default swaps made from junk mortgages proffered to America's most vulnerable and exploited populations.) Progress!
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Okay I really don't understand the 50 bed pillows thing. Every night my parents tossed their gazillion decorative pillows on the floor just to put them back on the bed the next morning. Like, for WHAT? Who was going in there? The Pope?
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Here's a fun one for your liminal spaces moodboards. (Speaking for myself.)
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Yes, I know about skibidi toilet. And sticking out your gyatt for the rizzler. I wish I didn't. I wish I couldn't read. Literacy is like a mirror in which I only see the aging contours of my face.
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When your kids move out every room becomes a guest room.
Anyway, let's see what the rear of this house has to offer.
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The migratory birds will not forgive them for their crimes. But also seriously, not even a garden?
Anyway, that does it for this round of McMansion Hell. Happy Halloween!
If you like this post and want more like it, support McMansion Hell on Patreon for as little as $1/month for access to great bonus content including a discord server, extra posts, and livestreams.
Not into recurring payments? Try the tip jar! Student loans just started back up!
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yeonzzzn · 2 months
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hi hi! I have an idea :3 yandere heeseung baby trapping y/n even though that was her plan the whole time bc she’s also a yandere for him:3
oh my god I love this idea saurrrrr much😫😮‍💨 anon your brain is *chef kiss* 🩷🩷🩷
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baby trapping: lee heeseung
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pairing: heeseung x afab!reader word count: 1.5k
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Heeseung always loved the thought of baby trapping you. He’s got a bad enough breeding kink as it is, but just the thought of getting you pregnant and making you stuck with him? His yandere ass could cum on the spot just thinking about it. His whole body getting tingly and his heart pumping faster and faster. 
Day by day Heeseung slowly inched closer and closer to actually baby trapping you. Mostly when he’s buried deep inside your cunt, cock pressing against your cervix as his cum fills you completely. 
It’s not even just making you become stuck with him, he wouldn’t mind having a baby with you. To share the responsibility of caring for the life you both created together, to raise that precious life that was a mixture of the two of you. It would be the happiest he’s ever been. 
Those thoughts alone pushed Heeseung into action. Gathering up all the condoms and Plan Bs around the apartment and tossing them out one by one slowly without your knowledge. Not wanting to make it too obvious what his plans were. Heeseung already knew you wouldn’t bat too much of an eye at the condoms disappearing, you two barely used them anyway. And for the Plan Bs? Was just what it was used for, as a backup plan in case you accidentally skipped one of your birth control pills or got sick and had to stop taking them because of your medication. The Plan Bs would be a bit harder to toss out, but again with your birth control, you wouldn’t take much notice. 
It was birth control that was the real problem. How would Heeseung wing you off it? It’s something you take every day at seven am on the dot. It’s not like he can dig into your bathroom bag you keep under the sink and just throw them down the sink or toilet or the trash. 
Except, maybe he could. 
Heeseung walks into the bathroom, not to snoop around for your birth control, but to take a hot shower after his long day of work. Wanting to let the steamy water rush down his body in relaxation before sitting in front of his PC and playing video games the rest of the night with his friends. 
It wasn’t until after his shower that he noticed it. 
He stood in front of the sink, taking the towel that was wrapped around his lower half and bringing it to his head to shake all the water out of his hair, as he lowered the towel back down when he noticed the small pink plastic case, just sitting in the corner of the sink. 
Heeseung reached for it, picked it up, and slowly looked inside it, his gut being right that this was indeed the case you kept your birth control in. 
How could he have gotten so lucky? You left it on the sink by mistake from rushing to work this morning. It was too perfect. It was like the universe was telling Heeseung to baby trap you. To make you stuck with him forever. 
His plan was now fully in motion as he dumped out the contents of the pink case, making sure every last pill was gone and then tossing the case the next chance he got without you knowing. 
The next morning Heeseung woke to hearing you scrambling around the bathroom cabinet under the sink. He had to keep his smile hidden as he asked what on earth you possibly could be tearing apart the bathroom for. 
“I can’t find my birth control pills, Seungie have you seen them? I left them right here on top of the sink.” 
With the poker face of a god, he shrugs, “No, I haven’t seen them, baby, I’m sorry.” 
Except I watched them get washed away down the sink so the next time I fill your cunt with my cum you’ll be pregnant with my child. 
Heeseung knew he had to be smart now, knowing you’ll be more careful during sex, wanting to be on top so the moment Heeseung is about to unload his seed you could jump off. 
But he’s been thinking about this plan for months, he’s ran the numbers over and over again. Calculated each scenario to a perfect point. His plan was already working in his favor, no reason for it to not work now. 
So Heeseung gaslit you into thinking there were more Plan Bs pills somewhere in the apartment, begging on his knees to let him fuck you as he ran his hands up and down your thighs slowly, feeling the goosebumps on your skin and watching how you breath hitched at his touch. He was already winning. 
Heeseung knew how to work your body, how to touch you in all the right places to get you into your back, hands pinned above your head as he fucked into rough and fast, hitting your G-Spot with such ease as his name was rolling off your tongue over and over. 
All he had to do was keep your arms above your head and pressed into the sheets, keep whispering the lying promise that a Plan B is waiting for you as he also praised how good you’re taking his cock, how much of his sweet good girl you were. 
He’d made you cum twice now, and his climax was approaching fast. This was it, the moment he’s only dreamed of was finally about to happen. The only hard part after this would be gaslighting you into staying at the apartment with him the rest of the weekend to make sure you don’t slip out and buy any Plan B once you figure out he lied to you. 
“Going to breed the fucking hell out of this pussy,” he moans into your ear, licking at the shell of your ear and feeling you shudder underneath him, his cock twitching, knowing he had a good few thrusts left before he’s spilling into you, “Going to fill you so full of my cum, going to breed you, make me a daddy baby.” 
Heeseung lifted himself up, getting one last look at your face and your fucked out expression. He furrowed his brows, feeling himself about to burst, snapping his hips back against your skin, then pushing back out. Was fixing to slide in a final time when he noticed a change. 
His eyes widened in surprise as your facial expression changed, your lips curled into a smirk as you quickly wrapped your legs around his waist and pushed him back deeply inside you, whispering, “Get me pregnant,” with such seduction in your voice. Your grip on his waist was strong enough that he couldn’t wiggle out of it even if he wanted to, and just accepted his fate as his warm cum filled you to the brim, bucking his hips further into you as much as he could with the help of your legs squeezing around him. 
Little did he know, you too had a plan of your own. 
You’ve secretly been as much of a yandere as your boyfriend, wanting to baby trap him into being stuck with you for the rest of your life. Plotting out ways to get him to spill his cum deep inside you without any sort of protection or backup plan. But Heeseung honestly made it easier for you. 
You went to throw away the condoms and Plan Bs, but already saw they were missing. You had suspicions, but didn’t know if maybe Heeseung misplaced them after they were used last. But you also knew there was no way that was possible. 
To test if you were correct, you purposely stopped taking your birth control a couple of days beforehand and purposely left the little pink case on top of the sink counter before leaving for work, not being surprised one bit when you returned home to see the case was missing. 
Your plan was just as much in motion as Heeseung’s. And there was no point in telling him that you two had the same plan, no no, that would take away the fun. So you played dumb. Acting as if you didn’t know he tossed out every protection product in the apartment. Let him “gaslight” you on his false promises. In the end, you were the one who gaslit him into thinking he was gaslighting and manipulating you in bed when the tables were oh-so flipped. 
It wasn’t until after Heeseung came down from his high but still fucked into you slowly making sure you milked him dry of every last drop he had, that he realized your plan all along. 
Right when he thought he played the game well, he was the one who got played. 
Oh, but it turned him on so badly knowing you wanted to baby trap him too. 
Heeseung just smirks down at you, “Ya? You wanna baby trap me? Going to cum in this cunt every single day until you’re pregnant.” 
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tender-rosiey · 10 months
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Since your requests are open I'll help myself 😋 Gojo's wife starts to have morning sicknesses, so she suspects that she's pregnant. She takes a test and finds out that she actually is pregnant. Would u please write gojo's reaction when his wife tells his that he's gonna be a daddy? 🥺💕 thanks you, please feed us with your delicious writing!!!
Also if you're not feeling well then please ignore this. Take care! Mwah^•^♡
weight — gojo satoru x f!reader
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a/n: I hope you like this, luv 🥺💕 thank you so much for your kind words and take care of yourself as well! many kisses and hugs 🫶
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“shoko, I need a place to hide!” you say, bursting into the infirmary. you take the small moment of shock that shoko is in to take a much needed breath.
“what did you do this time?”
you wordlessly raise the pregnancy test with slightly shaky hands and upon seeing it, shoko drops the poor sandwich she was eating. you close the door behind you before sitting down next her.
she smiles, “nice, I am going to be an aunt,” then she looks at you confused, “why are you hiding though?”
“I need time to figure out how I will tell him or more like—“ you look at the ceiling, “face him. he will probably figure everything out with his six eyes, but I don’t know how he will react,” you wrap your arms around yourself and shoko sighs.
“you guys didn’t talk about it yet?” she stands up and goes to get you a warm drink.
you gently rock yourself, “satoru already…has so much on his shoulders,” you bury your face in your arms, “I don’t want to add to that.”
she places the mug in front of you, “you do know that he got into this relationship willingly, right? you didn’t hold him at gunpoint or anything…or did you?”
you lightly punch her shoulders, but you take the mug, muttering a small thanks, “if anyone was held at gunpoint then it would be me.”
shoko chuckles and pats your head, “you need to be able to face him, y/n. he will find out anyway, and personally, I think you should have faith in his reaction more than that,” you lock eyes, “you know him more than anyone else, after all.”
your gaze falls to your drink. its surface is so still until you softly blow and it ripples, calm the chaos.
what if you don’t know satoru as much as you thought? what if having a kid will scare him away?  as the strongest, your husband has so much on his mind 24/7. will he be able to handle a baby as well?
while a part of you tells you that your husband is no coward nor is he so fragile, the other can’t help but think that perhaps this love story of 12 years will reach its end, a very tragic end even.
with the creation of a new life, ends a lifetime of feelings and events.
you snap out of your thoughts when you notice shoko shooing you into the closet room.
you hear the door open and you have a guess who it is. he makes himself known anyway, “shoko,  have you seen y/n?”
shoko quirks an eyebrow and gojo huffs, “okay, fine, I know she is here, but is she mad at me? did I do something?”
you have a feeling that he is looking directly at your eyes even through the closet’s door as he speaks, “y/n, I will take you out anywhere. I don’t know what I did, but let me make it up to you. I hate when you’re upset with me, sweets.”
he is frowning lightly as he stares at the closet with hope. shoko sighs before walking out of the room, but not without patting his shoulder.
the door closes and satoru speaks up again, “can you please come out so we can at least talk about it?”
he hears your sigh and beams when you finally get out of the room, “there is my pretty girl.”
he has a flower bouquet in hand and he is looking at you so intently, but you don’t think he noticed the life growing inside of you now. he is far too focused on making you forgive him for whatever he did. you take a deep breath and look him in the eyes.
your hand moves and finally rests on your stomach.
his brows furrow lightly before his eyes widen. satoru’s breath hitches just like it did during your wedding. he places the bouquet aside before looking quickly between your eyes and stomach, “you are…”
you grip your own hands, nodding. tears start forming in your eyes till they finally fall and cries are what he sees now. your knees give out on you and you fall to the ground, now sobbing.
you are looking at the ground as you cry and hug yourself tighter, bracing yourself for whatever is coming.
satoru, almost instantly, finds himself on his knees in front of you.
his arms, like it’s second nature, pull you close into a warm and secure hug, “hey, hey,” he pats your back, a little clumsily, “if you don’t want it then it’s fine. you know I care about you the most,” his voice shakes a bit, “don’t cry please, you’re breaking my heart—“
“I am sorry, I am sorry, I am sorry,” you repeat a mantra of the same phrase as you pull him even closer. satoru cups your face and the moment you’re met with the pair of blue eyes you love so much, you break down more, “I know you—probably don’t want it but—“
he tilts his head, utterly confused and maybe even offended, “what are you talking about? of course, I want it!”
the room is silent for a moment as you process what he says. it’s like a massive weight has been lifted off your shoulders. you let out a shaky breath as you look down at your hands.
satoru rests his forehead on your own. his voice is soft and barely above a whisper as he speaks, “it’s our baby.”
the content smile on his face is almost unreal, “why in the world would you think that I wouldn’t want it anyway?” and somehow the pout on his face assures you even more.
your arms wrap themselves around his torso and you rest your head on his shoulder, “it’s just—I thought it would be burdening you with yet another responsibility. you have the world on top of your shoulders. how am I better than anyone if I weigh down even if it’s a different type of weight.”
“is it a weight for you?” he asks, voice hushed.
“of course not! I want—“ you answer immediately.
“there is your answer,” he chuckles and you look at his face once again.
you notice that he is tearing up. your satoru is tearing up, and the blindfold isn’t there to hide it nor are the glasses.
his eyes never leave yours as he says, with no waver on his voice, “I would pick you over everything else, every single time and in every single universe, silly girl.”
“you should know that already,” he flicks your forehead but the smile never leaves his face.
a soft laugh tumbles out of his lips as he pulls you in for a big bear hug, his form completely engulfing your own.
he fills tears stain his shirt, but he can only focus on your smile he feels on his skin and the fact that he voice out loud, “I will be a dad,” he sighs with contentment.
“and it��s all because of you,” he raises your face and nuzzles your noses together making you giggle, “we're going to be parents, you sweet pretty thing.”
satoru’s lips find themselves on your own in one very sweet and loving kiss. it’s soft, light, and gentle. yet it conveys all the words that he can’t get out at the moment.
when you pull away slightly, he quickly pulls you back for another, “I love you so much.”
he places a hand on your stomach, “and you too.”
“but don’t think I will share mama with you,” he sticks his tongue out at it, “she is mine!”
the baby is not even out of the womb, and yet he is already bickering with it.
you laugh and your chest feel so light. you kiss his cheek and his pout turns into a grin almost immediately. you hum, “infinity and beyond?”
his hand holds your own and he caresses your ring, “infinity and beyond.”
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blughxreader · 4 months
Text
platonic yandere batfam thoughts...
how you end up integrating into the family.
I think we often forget how insidious the long-term effects of kidnapping are. Your whole world narrows and you have nothing fulfilling outside of them.
Realistically, how many weeks straight can you do nothing but look at your phone/watch TV? I know we do this every day, but we have school/work/friends/family to provide actual fulfillment and joy. But when you take that away? And have to decide whether you should scroll through monitored social media or talk to your captors?
Especially because the TV doesn't distract from the cold, hard gaze of the surveillance cameras in your room.
Even if you read and craft and cook, it's so difficult to keep your mental health in-tact without having a positive interaction with another human being.
It would start small.
It's morning and Cass smiles at you from across the breakfast table. Not wanting to be rude, you smile tightly back.
Jason wordlessly slides you a book. You take it.
After a few months, you feel slightly more comfortable about taking up space in the manor. Alfred is out of town for the weekend, so you make a sandwich with Tim.
Bruce talks to you about the new scientific breakthrough at Wayne Enterprises and keeps you relatively up-to-date on major world events. You begrudgingly learn more interesting facts than public school has ever taught you.
Soon, you've watched everything good on Netflix. You exhausted your tolerance for social media. You've given yourself headaches reading so much. You've hit an art/writers block like never before because your input has run dry.
With no other source of entertainment, you become more attentive to the Bats.
Of course, you've always watched them out of fear. But as months tick by and you've learned their hearts (and delusions), it's obvious that they would never hurt you. Furthermore, operating within their expectations is easy enough as long as you never challenge them, so the constant danger-sense slowly turns off.
However, because you don't have any outside noise to occupy your mind, drama in the house becomes almost life-and-death to you.
Peace is so fragile, and it's all you have.
Damian and Bruce return from patrol in a rage one night. Damian's furious echoes bouncing upstairs, followed by Bruce's low, indistinguishable scorn.
Fuck, you think. Now your and Bruce's talks are going to be stilted and uncomfortable. Now Damian is going to sulk in your room for hours, unwilling to talk about what happened yet wanting some kind of reassurance.
You can't keep them from fighting, but you want to protect your peace.
When you first arrived in this dreadful manor, you never would have imagined you'd offer them kind words and affection. However it's the only thing you can do now.
There's conflict. The house is tense--your world is tense.
Should you call Dick? He has a day job again, so he can't come over until tomorrow night. It's up to you to ease the tension.
So you do, slowly, with homemade food and Bruce's favorite coffee blend and Damian's favorite hot chocolate. You sit with them individually, shoulder to shoulder (much closer than you would normally sit), and pretend everything is alright. They're surprised but very quick to snap back into a good mood.
The house is suddenly back in order and you did it all by yourself.
And with these vigilantes, conflict is ripe. There's always people coming and going, fighting and playing, and you're unwillingly the most in-tune with the well-being of everyone's relationships.
You protect your peace. You protect the house.
this shit makes me gnaw at my enclosure. if you're fem, it's worse because ✨ stereotypical woman archetype ✨ anyway this has been on my mind because i've been taking care of my baby chicks and cooking dinner most nights, so i'm like 💁‍♀️ i could be a captive house wife click here for my yandere batfam masterlist
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star-girl69 · 4 months
Text
I Can See You
Clarisse La Rue x Fem!AphroditeCabin!Reader
—-
sypnosis: you and clarisse work together to get revenge on a mutual enemy, but when that plan involves pretending to date clarisse, something better than revenge happens. requested by anonymous!
a/n: I AM SO EXCITED FOR THIS ONE HOLY FRICK. the beginning is so bad and just like worldbuilding but i PROMISE!!!!! keep reading!!!!!! pls ignore the fact im reusing jackie and tyla i’m attached to them anyways i hope you all enjoy!!
I Can See You - Taylor Swift
(also Dress by tay was the original title soooo…..)
warnings: not proofread, the beginning is so bad i swear it gets better, a little suggestive haha…., kissing ofc, fake dating!!!!!!!!!, JEALOUS CLARISSE JEALOUS CLARISSE I REPEAT JEALOUS CLARISSE!!!!!!!, swearing, violence, mentions of murder!, protective clarisse the loml, ALCOHOL!!!!! reader gets drunk, allusions to sex, MENTIONS OF SEXUAL ASSAULT please be VERY careful, tell me if i missed anything!!
—-
“What the hell are you all doing?”
You had waited until nighttime for a reason, for the light of the full moon and hopefully some peace. You and your siblings looked up at the voice.
Xavier Bones was possibly the rudest and most self-centered person you had ever had the displeasure of meeting. His father was Ares, which made sense, seeing as he had a wicked temper and was strong as shit. Most of the kids from the Ares cabin could probably snap you like a stick if they wanted, but what scares you about Xavier is that he might actually do it.
He’s rude to everyone he sees, but he particularly has it out for the Aphrodite cabin. Just because Aphrodite kids didn’t have skill in battle like Ares kids, or aren’t wicked smart like Athena kids doesn’t mean they’re worthless. Xavier just didn’t understand anything except brute force.
He didn’t understand any other kind of power.
The whole reason you’re out here tonight is to finally finish the potion you’ve been making. Amokinesis was strictly a spoken sort of magic, and it was hard to do it to more than one person. But, you and your siblings had decided that maybe you could try and follow in the steps of sorceresses like Medea and Circe, using spelled objects and potions to execute your power. You had been collaborating with a Hecate kid for weeks now, learning everything you could about potion making until you were finally ready to try and make a simple truth potion- love and desire also opened the door to truth.
Aster, the daughter of Hecate who had been helping you, said it was a relatively easy first timer potion and hopefully with your Amokinesis it would come together.
You look up at Xavier, watching as he smiles in disbelief.
“Oh, don’t tell me you’re trying to make some sort of love potion, huh?” He sits down at the picnic table, curiously leaning in to look at it.
“Get back,” Jackie, your sibling, hisses waving her hand at him so he’ll back up.
“Okay, okay,” he smiles, some glint in his eyes. He holds his hands up in mock surrender. “I’m just trying to figure out why you’re wasting all this time, seeing as it probably won’t work.”
“Shut up, Xavier,” you sighed. You needed this bad. You needed to prove to everyone that love wasn’t a stupid power. You were so sick of Xavier, of everyone and their treatment of the Aphrodite cabin. Jackie wanted so desperately to learn how to use a spear, but no one would pay enough attention to her.
You need this.
“I thought you guys were supposed to be nice?”
You opt to ignore him.
“Hm, okay, definitely not nice. Good thing I’m not either.”
He spits his gum out and drops it straight into the cauldron.
“Fucking bitch!” Jackie screams, Tyla looks like she’s about to cry, and the wooden spoon you’re holding in your hands is about to crack under the pressure.
The potion changes an odd color, a murky brown.
“Oops,” he says.
He laughs and walks away, and you faintly wonder what happened to him to make him so cruel.
—-
The next morning you’re all stewing silently at breakfast. Jackie is glaring daggers at the Ares table, Tyla is ranting about how you need to get all the ingredients again, and you’re trying to listen and join Jackie at staring maliciously.
“I’m gonna murder him, I think.”
“I’ll help,” you murmur, favoring staring at your hands instead of being caught staring at him.
“Do you think Clarisse will let me borrow her spear? How much would that sting, getting killed by one of your Dad’s weapons, huh?”
“She probably would,” Tyla mumbles. “She hates him too, ever since he beat her sparring.”
You resist the urge to scoff. You were there that day, and Xavier had played dirty.
They were sparring, she was winning, when he suddenly pointed behind her and shouted that Ares was there. Of course, everyone had turned to look, and he had disarmed her and kicked her down while she was distracted.
Of course, the next day he was walking around sporting a black eye, but Clarisse had never lived that day down. Xavier had never lived that down, either, exactly why they’re sitting on opposite ends of the table now.
Jackie stares off into the distance. She lets out a small laugh.
“I have a horrible idea.”
“What if we make Xavier fall in love with one of us, right?”
You and Tyla both gag.
“Wait, wait! But then we just lead him on, and maybe Clarisse will do us a favor and pretend to date-”
Tyla snorts. “She would never do that.”
You remember seeing the anger on her face that day. The rage, really, the betrayal. But you remember seeing the sadness too. A part of her had really thought Ares was gonna be there. You remember feeling so, so bad for her.
No one should deserve to feel like that, but it comes with the territory of being a demigod.
“It wouldn’t hurt to ask, right?”
Tyla and Jackie stare at you like you’ve just cursed out Hades.
“I’ll do it. Tyla, no offense, but I think you’d crack under the pressure. And Jacks, you would just start punching him.”
“Yeah,” Tyla murmurs.
“I would,” Jackie agrees.
“I mean, it might actually work.”
—-
You corner her the next day.
She’s outside her cabin, practicing some spear forms when you walk over to her. This is all moving so fast, but you can’t help the fact that revenge is so fun. Why wait when you can get it now?
Revenge is supposed to be served best cold, but you’ve always been a little too handsy, a little too greedy for your own good. You want revenge and you want it now.
“Clarisse, hi.” You smile, she spares you a glance and doesn’t say anything. “I’m Y/N, you don’t know me but I was wondering if I could ask you for a favor.”
The spear stops in mid air. She moves from a offensive position to a standing position, and she looks you up and down so painfully slow that you think your organs are gonna burst.
“What?”
“So, you know Xavier?” you sit down on the picnic bench behind you. “I’m sure you know him, and I’m sure you know that he’s an asshole. He ruined something me and my siblings were doing, and he’s been so rude to all Aphrodite kids for so long so, we just wanna get him back.
She squints at you. “How?”
“We’re gonna use our amokinesis to make him fall in love with me, then maybe, hopefully, we can fake date to make him lose his mind.”
She stares at you blankly for a second. Your heart drops, oh, Gods, you never should have done this.
You’re gonna be the laughingstock of camp.
“‘Cause, you know, you both hate each others guts. And if he’s in love with me, but then he sees you and me together- it was this whole thing about making him see the power of love, you know, ‘cause like-”
She grabs you by your cheeks, pinching your face together, your lips puffing out.
“You can stop rambling, now.” She smiles in a demeaning way, and you would feel insulted if the way she wasn’t gripping your face right now wasn’t addicting. “I actually think it’s a pretty great plan. Surprising, but, whatever.”
You ignore that.
“So, you’ll do it?”
“When are you gonna spell him?”
“As soon as possible, tonight, at the bonfire.”
“Okay,” she nods, thinking to herself. “Come meet me before you do it.”
“Yeah, sure.”
Clarisse La Rue touched your face. Clarisse touched your face, and you really fucking liked it.
—-
The three of you sit by the edge of the bonfire. You locked eyes with Clarisse a few minutes ago, letting her know you’re here.
Tyla fusses with your hair, even though you all spent an hour making everything about you perfect. It would be nice to look hot if you were gonna make him fall in love with you.
You watch as she makes her way towards the bathrooms.
Her golden skin shines in the light of the fire, she adjusts her shirt, and you swear you see her abs just under the orange fabric-
“Clarisse is pretty, isn’t she?” Tyla says. “I mean, I almost wish I was the one fake dating her.”
And she is. She is so painfully pretty.
“I’ll tell you all about it,” you wink.
When you step into the bathroom, Clarisse locks the door behind you. You turn around and she’s there. She looks you up and down. You can’t make out the look on her face.
“You’re really trying to impress him, huh?” she smirks. You ignore that.
The ceiling is low in here, so you walk to the corner and reach up at the loose board. You slide it over, reaching inside and grabbing the small bag.
Aphrodite kid secret- makeup is hidden everywhere around camp.
She stares at you. “Has that always been up there?”
You go to the mirror, taking out the mascara and applying another layer.
“Uh… yeah.”
She leans against the wall next to the mirror, watching you with such an intensity it’s like you’re the one beautiful thing in some bloody war she can’t take her eyes away from.
“We should probably set some ground rules,” you say. She hums. “This will probably only be for a month or so.”
“That’s fine.”
You stare pointedly at yourself in the mirror. You, Jacks and Tyla had dumped almost all of your plates into the offerings fire at lunch, hoping for good luck from Aphrodite. With the way your skin seems to glow, your makeup flawless, it seems she’s pleased by your offerings.
Maybe her and Ares are having a fight up on Olympus, and she’s itching to see him knocked down a peg, however vicariously through someone else.
“Well, you can do whatever you want to me.”
“I- what?” you blink, staring at Clarisse like she just turned into a cyclops.
“You can kiss me, hug me, whatever. I mean, we should really do this if we’re gonna do it. Sell it, or whatever.”
“Oh, okay. Yeah, I guess you can do whatever too.”
Clarisse can touch you wherever she wants.
You look up discreetly. Please, Mom, you think. Don’t let me fall in love with Clarisse La Rue.
It’s fine to admit to yourself that you’d like to jump on top of her, but she’s still an Ares kid. She’s a bully, if you’re being honest. But can you say that you’re not one too after this?
Love can burn down cities, love can start wars, love can end them. Love is always there from the beginning of your life to your beginning. The doctor who delivered you loves their career. The woman who makes flower arrangement for your funeral loves flowers, even if she hates making them for funerals.
Love is always there, and when it’s used as a weapon you know it is one of the deadliest things.
But you’re too deep in this now.
She walks around so she’s standing behind you, adjusting her hair in the mirror.
She puts her hand on your hip. You take a deep breath, you pretend. You pretend so hard it might become real.
She smiles brightly in the mirror. “See you out there, baby.”
—-
You pull your top down. That’s the easiest way to get a man to look at you. Pull your top down. You get a few looks as you move through the tree trunk benches, careful that you don’t accidentally trip, because that would completely fuck up the plan.
There’s a part of you that comes from your mother. The part that some may call vain, but how is it your fault to enjoy the attention that other people are giving you? It’s not your fault they’re looking. It’s not your fault you look like your mother’s daughter.
You walk a little longer, finally setting your eyes on Xavier, sitting across the fire from Clarisse and her group. You eyes meet hers. She pretends to itch her nose, but you can see the laugh she’s hiding. You take one more deep breath, say one more please to your mother.
“Xavier,” you say. “Can I sit?”
He already seems a little shocked that you’re talking to him on purpose, but he quickly recovers and pushes his friend down the trunk.
You sit, your thigh touching his, folding your hands over your legs.
“I just wanted to say, Xavier, that you were right. The other night… the potion would have failed anyways. Thank you so much for ruining it when you did. Who knows what could have happened? It could have exploded everywhere.”
You laugh, putting your hand on his arm. He looks up at you, mouth slightly parted.
You said his name twice and he’s already sucked in.
“Really, Xavier, thank you.” You smile softly, looking at his lips before back up to his eyes.
His hand lands on your knee.
“You’re welcome, sweetheart.”
You watch Jackie walk by. He doesn’t hear her whisper. But you see it in his eyes.
You pretend to blush, brushing your hand down his arm before it lands back in your own lap. He leans in closer, until his lips are brushing your ear.
“Why don’t I give you some more things to be thankful for?”
Tyla walks by. He doesn’t hear her whisper either.
“Oh, I should really get back to Clarisse. Sorry, Xavier,”
His hand tightens on your knee and he pulls back.
“C-Clarisse? What would you be doing with her?”
You feign innocence. “Well, she’s my girlfriend. I do a lot of things with her,” you giggle. “I just wanted to thank you, but I should get going. Bye, Xavier!”
You blow him a kiss as you stand up, and you can practically see the hearts in his eyes right along with the blazing rage. You can feel him stare as you walk away, hips swaying.
Clarisse is still trying to hide her laugh when you start walking over to her. The tree trunk around her is all full of people, and a few more are even on the ground.
You stand in front of her, smiling softly.
“Are you not gonna let your girlfriend sit down?”
“Of course I am.”
She leans back and pats her knee. She draws you forward by wrapping her big hand around your hip. When you sit down, she rests her hand flat against your stomach, pressing you right to her. Her other hand rests on your thigh.
Please, Mom, don’t let me fall in love with Clarisse La Rue. Don’t let me like her touching me like this.
Everyone is staring.
It’s exhilarating.
You twist your face into something serious, trying not to break out into a fit of embarrassing giggles.
Her breath tickles your neck.
“I gotta admit, you little witch, that was impressive.”
You smile and place your hand over hers.
“I know.”
—-
The day after the bonfire, everybody at camp is talking about you and Clarisse.
How long have they been dating? Why did they decide to become public now? I swear I saw Y/N and Xavier getting close, though, what happened?
You’ve been trying not to break out laughing all morning. During breakfast you blew Clarisse a kiss and heard one of your siblings gasp dramatically and mumble about how sweet young love is.
Jackie and Tyla made paper hearts for you during arts n’ crafts, talking loudly about how you were such a lovesick little thing. You know Xavier heard about all of those things, because he stares at you every chance he gets and glares at Clarisse at the same time.
You keep exchanging subtle glances with her, small smiles, secrets in between your gazes. It’s nice to have something like this.
After dinner, the two of you go to the woods to pretend like you’re having a secret date. Clarisse brings her spear and you bring a blanket.
You’ve been laying there comfortably for a while, arms under your head like a pillow.
“I wanna know how you did it,” she says, turning her spear in her hands. You open one eye to look at her.
“I say his name a bunch of times. With, like, a lot of intention. Then Jackie and Tyla came by and whispered “you’re in love with the girl in front of you” and other stuff like that. It’s hard to explain. It’s just, like, this power.”
“I was imagining, like, one of those mortal movies, you know? A potion, or something.”
“Oh, we’re trying that too. Medea used her amokinesis in the form of potions and spelled objects, so me, Jackie, and Tyla have been talking to Aster, who’s a child of Hecate, and we tried to make a truth potion.” You laugh, thinking of that night. “That’s why we’re doing this, actually. Xavier found us and stuck his gum in it, so… completely ruined. We have to wait for the next full moon and get all the ingredients. It sucks, whatever, I guess.”
She listened intently the entire time you were talking. Aphrodite kids are always jumping from one thing to another. Clarisse is so focused and single-minded. It feels good to be the center of just one person’s attention. Not having people look at you, but just one person look at you.
“Every time I see him I think about stabbing him 20 times. Now I’ll think about sticking gum in his ear, too.” She turns to you and smiles.
None of that stupid smirking shit she always does, or those over-exaggerated demeaning smiles, she really smiles at you.
Her smile is really pretty.
You laugh along with her after a second.
“I would love to see that,” you murmur, propping yourself up on your forearms. “What really made you agree to do this? I mean, I know you guys surface level hate each other but, come on, I was just rambling and you were all ‘let’s do it’.”
“I hate him,” she shrugs. “Why do you care, anyways? You got what you wanted. Enjoy my beautiful self while it lasts.”
“Yeah, okay,” you chuckle.
You don’t leave until the stars come out.
—-
The second day after the bonfire, Clarisse invites you to sit with her at lunch. Usually, you’re supposed to stay at your cabin tables, but Chiron is busy all day and no one would snitch on Clarisse.
You walk over with your tray in hand, watching as she whispers something to her siblings. You smile at them before she pats the seat next to her.
“Hey,” the boy next to you greets. “I’m Matty.”
He points to the girl across from him. “That’s Marjorie,” he points to the other boy with dark skin across from Clarisse, “That’s Daniel,” and finally your eyes land on the blonde girl sitting across from you.
“I’m Sarah,” she smiles. She seems nice, at least. So does Matty. The rest just seem sort of standoffish. There’s a scuffle under the table, then Daniel glares at Clarisse.
“Hi, Y/N,” he says. “Nice to meet you.”
Matty is sickly sweet nice, handsome too, and you almost wonder if he’s really a child of Ares. But he’s got that same focus like Clarisse.
He asks you questions and listens to your answers.
He had the bad stroke of fate in accidentally getting you going about your experiments in potions and amokinesis, and you find yourself shuffling closer to him.
“Sorry,” you laugh. “I’ll stop torturing you now.”
“No, no, it’s fine. I love a passionate person.”
You weren’t sure if he meant that to be flirting.
Usually you’re good at picking up these things, all Aphrodite kids have a knack for it, but you think he’s just really nice.
You stare at him, tilting your head to the side when Clarisse suddenly grabs your waist and pulls you closer to her. Her breath tickles your neck, just like the bonfire.
“You’re supposed to be my girlfriend, not his,” she whispers, her chin resting against your shoulder.
You roll your eyes. “Am I not allowed to have a conversation?”
“Not when he’s looking.” You spare a quick glance. Xavier is looking at you, a mix between glaring and starting longingly.
“He looks like a cross-eyed dog,” you giggle.
And to your surprise, Clarisse presses her face into your shoulder to muffle her laugh.
—-
All the time you spend with Clarisse is like some stupid board game you play with Tyla and Jackie when there’s nothing else to do. Jenga. That one where you crack the ice and try not to make the polar ball fall.
The games where you chip it away slowly, one by one, wondering if this time will be the time that it falls, if you’ll be the one to lose the game.
You push a little more each time with Clarisse. Each conversation, you learn a little more, you chip away a few of her walls.
It’s addicting to open her up slowly, to get to know her like this. And when it’s just you and her alone, when Xavier isn’t around to torture, you swear it doesn’t feel fake.
—-
The eighth day after the bonfire, you skip arts n’ crafts to follow Clarisse to the archery range.
While the Apollo kids have all that effortless, natural skill with archery, Ares kids are still deadly. You faintly remember seeing Clarisse shoot once. Even though it’s not her weapon of choice, her aim was deadly and she didn’t miss one shot.
You’re okay with a bow.
Clarisse sees the perfect opportunity to flaunt in front of Xavier.
As soon as you crest the hill, your eyes find his, and he beelines towards you.
“Y/N, sweetheart, what can I do for you?”
It’s easy to switch on that stereotypical persona. You twist your fingers into your shirt.
“Yeah, can you help me?” you look up at him, trying to be as disgustingly sweet as you can,
“What’d you need?” he takes a step closer, about to cage you in between him and the cart full of bows and arrows.
“Can you help me pick out a bow? I don’t know what one would be right for me, I don’t know anything about archery. Please?”
He reaches past you, coming close so your back hits the wooden cart. You can’t help the way your eyes widen. He’s bold, you’ll give him that. Everyone reacts differently under the spell, but their true personalities still shine through.
He picks one up, running his hand up and down the curved wood. He plucks at the string, nodding to himself.
“This one’s fit for a lady.”
You take it, fingertips brushing his. “Oh, thank you so much, Xavier.” You give him a small side hug as you run past him, eager to get away from him.
You just need to find Clarisse.
“Hey, don’t you need some help shooting?” you glance over your shoulder, watching him advance.
Where the hell is Clarisse?
You’re about to say you’re fine when you suddenly slide into someone’s arms. You would have slammed into her, if not for the way Clarisse softly reached out to touch your arm, and Gods, you recognize the feel of her skin.
You knew she was there and you gratefully walked forward, your chests touching, her arm around your shoulders.
“I’ll take it from here, Xavier.”
You look up at her. She’s smiling in that same demeaning way.
You’ve grown to like it.
He doesn’t say anything else. You hear him stomp off.
You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. When you open your eyes after a moment, you realize how close you are.
You’re so close it’s just one move and that’s it. One move and you both know that’ll change it all.
You think she just worked out. You can feel the muscles of her arm against you, you can see the sweat on her hairline, you can see her breathing heavily.
You could just press your ear to her chest and feel everything.
The way her brown eyes reflect the sunshine is mesmerizing. You’ve been looking at her for so long, but it’s like you’re looking into the surface of a lake you swear you recognize, slightly green murky waters, but there was a whole world under the surface if you cared to look.
But you didn’t care to look for the Clarisse under the surface. You don’t care. You don’t want to.
She clears her throat and let’s go of you.
You back up.
“Put that thing down, he probably fucking poisoned it.”
You turn the bow in your hands, but when you look up, she’s already walking towards the far end of the field.
“Wait, wait, what am I gonna use then?”
“Mine, obviously.” You drop the bow.
—-
After taking a few deep breaths, and Clarisse going over the basics again, you filled your mind with images of a bow and arrow and not of her eyes. Not of her lips.
Clarisse La Rue hates Aphrodite kids too, just not as much as Xavier, and not enough to resist revenge.
You focus on that. That’s why you’re here. Revenge.
Revenge for every fucked up thing he’s said, revenge for every time he’s come too hard at you during capture the flag, revenge for all of your siblings and everyone he’s ever tortured.
“Ok, there, that’s a good stance.” She’s raking her eyes up and down your body. But you’re here for revenge. She glanced over her shoulder. “Except for…”
She presses her body to yours from behind, molding against you like she was made to protect you like this, her hand covering yours, her stance just a little wider. She glides her hand across your arm.
“Up, up, just a little.” She’s whispering right into your ear. You let her hands guide you. Your mouth feels dry. “Then let go.”
And how badly you want to let go. You want to let go of these feelings rolling around in your stomach like stones, you want to let go and let them become butterflies and fall into Clarisse.
You prayed to your mother not to fall in love with her, but maybe you should trust your mom. Maybe you should let go.
But you don’t.
You let go of the arrow instead, you keep your tumbling feelings inside, and to your shock you only hit a few inches from the bullseye.
The bow swings in your hand.
“Holy shit. Did I- did I just do that?”
Clarisse laughs. “You did, baby.”
You turn around and throw your arms around her neck, smiling wide and laughing hysterically. The bow was the one weapon you thought you could never master, and here you are after one lesson with Clarisse.
She wraps her arms around your waist, and even though you’ve hugged like this a million times, you both know it’s different this time. And you both ignore it.
But for one second, you’re pretending so hard it’s almost real. It’s almost a real date.
—-
On the ninth day, it all goes to shit.
Sword practice is held just after lunch, when the sun is still high in the sky. The Ares and Aphrodite cabins share the field first, and you, Jackie and Tyla take your time stretching to enjoy the show.
Tyla has to turn around to hide her laugh as you bend over slowly, making sure Xavier is watching, then when you face comes up flushed you smile at him. He smiles back.
You wave to Clarisse and he glares at her.
Jackie says it will take him 5 minutes to ask her to spar. Tyla says 5 too. You say it’ll take him maybe 3 minutes.
He spars with one person, a two minute match, then marched right up to Clarisse.
“How about we go, huh? Want another chance to try and beat me?”
Clarisse was smiling before he walked over, talking to her friends. Her smile fades and is replaced by the dark mask of pure focus.
“I’d love to beat you, Xavier.”
She walks past you to grab a sword from the rack.
Her eyes meet yours. You reach out and put your hand on her face, softly pressing her lips against yours. It’s a peck. It’s barely there. At least now you can check off a box and say you’ve kissed Clarisse La Rue.
She seems so shocked that you’ve actually kissed her you swear she loses her footing for a second. You swear her cheeks are a little flushed. By she stands up taller and ignores it, just like you’ve both been doing for so long.
“Good luck, baby!” you call as she walks off to the circle marked off for sparring.
Xavier looks like he’s about to light the grass on fire.
“She’s gonna beat his ass,” Jackie whispers.
“If he loses, do you think I should comfort him after?”
“Oh, Gods, yes,” Tyla smiles. “That’s so mean. We’re so mean.” It feels too good to stop.
Kissing Clarisse almost felt too good to stop. Even that second, one more longer and you would have been sucked in. You decide not to kiss her for however long this goes on.
Once you start kissing her, you’re scared you’ll never stop.
Revenge feels to good, and you need this.
As soon as they face each other Xavier springs out with a million offensive attacks, slightly sloppy- you can see his anger. Everyone knows you can’t let your emotion get in the way of battle.
Clarisse is calm and counters all his attacks. She even smiles, which makes your stomach flip in a way that isn’t fake.
Her sword flicks along his cheek. It’s a paper cut, barely.
“Oh no,” Clarisse fake frets. “You need me to walk you to the nurse?”
He grunts and launches an attack that’s just plain stupid. It’s messy. He swings too wide. She knocks his sword out of his hand.
He goes to dive for it but her sword is already at his neck.
He breathes heavily, staring at her, and it’s suddenly dead quiet. No more talking, no more swords clanging.
Your eyes are flicking in between them like a ball bouncing up and down. But they linger on Clarisse. Of course they linger on Clarisse.
It’s so quiet you swear you can hear her heartbeat.
“Daddy’s behind you,” he whispers.
She whips around, taking her sword with her, but no one is there. Of course no one is there.
Xavier runs away laughing, and Clarisse turns around. Her cheeks are flushed, she’s gripping the hand of the sword so tight you’re surprised it hasn’t broken off.
Clarisse is not your girlfriend. Clarisse is not even your friend.
But she’s someone, she’s someone to you, and you can’t stand to see her like this.
You walk forward and put your hand on her wrist, taking the sword from her. You’re not even in control of your arms and legs.
She stares pointedly at the distance.
“Let’s go,” you whisper, giving her no choice and pulling her along. You throw the sword at the rack.
—-
You end up in Clarisse’s cabin, door clicking shut behind you as you press your back to it. She stays silent for a moment, until she screams and throws someone’s pillow at the wall. You don’t say anything.
You don’t say anything but you follow her to her bed.
“I’m so sorry,” you whisper, watching as she sits down, fists clenched so tight you hope she isn’t bleeding. “I’m so sorry, Clarisse.”
“You weren’t the one who fell for it. You weren’t the one who fell for that stupid, stupid, childish trick. I did.”
“You wouldn’t even be here if it wasn’t for us and our plan. If it wasn’t for me.”
You sit down on the bed next to hers.
“Why are you even here? We’re not actually dating, dummy. You can go.”
“I know,” you murmur. You know. You know you aren’t dating. You know you shouldn’t be here. “But you’re still something, Clarisse.”
She slips off her armor.
“I’m not something to you.”
She wants someone else to hurt like she does. She wants someone else to take the fall, to be embarrassed and the center of everyone’s attention so she doesn’t have to.
“I’ll never be something to you, Y/N, just- just go away. This is over, I’m not doing it anymore.”
“Yeah, okay,” you mutter. There’s something wet in your eyes and your throat tightens up. “That’s fine.”
You leave silently and you cry in the woods.
—-
When you finally make your way back to your cabin at nightfall, everyone is fussing around you. Your hair’s messy, mascara streams down your face, your shirt is wet with tears.
“Where have you been?” one of your brothers asks, and the rest of your siblings echo the sentiment.
Tyla doesn’t say anything when she sees you. She just wraps her arms around you. Jackie stands just behind her, eyes locking with yours. She knows. She doesn’t move. She can see it on your face, she can see it in your eyes.
Aphrodite children are predisposed to fall in love fast and hard. You’ve all gathered around your siblings time and time again when their hearts inevitably got broken.
No one wants to date an Aphrodite kid. Not really.
They all think you’re vain and self-centered. They all think you’re weak and useless.
When it comes down to it, that’s what you are.
How can you claim to wield the power of love when it brings you to your knees too?
You thought Clarisse was hot. You thought you could leave it at that. You thought you could pretend, you thought you could ignore it.
But the more you think about it, the more tears fall down your face, the more you realize you were ignoring the wrong thing. You spent so much time trying not to want Clarisse you forgot that she doesn’t even want you. It stings, like a knife in the chest, it hurts to know you’re making it all up.
But it was always pretend. It was always fake. That’s what fake dating is. The Aphrodite side of you just forgot that you couldn’t find comfort in her arms, you couldn’t memorize the feel of her skin, you couldn’t hear the sound of her heartbeat and pretended it beat for you.
You look up at the sky and you want to curse your mother. You want to know why she has abandoned you. But in your heart, you know she hasn’t abandoned you. The Goddess of Love is right next to you, and this is what it feels like.
Knives in your heart. Memories of heartbeats, memories of skin, memories of soft voices and secrets and the feeling that something was yours, something was quiet and shared.
“Y/N,” Jackie breathes.
The words hurt. You say them anyways.
“I fucked up,” you sob. “I fucked up, Jackie. She doesn’t- she won’t, she never will-”
“Y/N,” Tyla coos.
“I fell in love. I fell in love, and it’s over.”
—-
You give up on wearing makeup. The sadness still seeps through your face, and you end up crying most of it off anyways. A few of your hoodies are just permanently stained with mascara with how much you cried. The tears stream down your face and carry the little black specks with it.
You try to visualize everything you feel leaving with the black specks. The love, the anger, the sadness, the regret. But it doesn’t leave, and you’re too tired of trying to hide from it.
Everyone thinks you miserably broke up, and it’s mortifying to know that Clarisse knows you’re like this, she knows you’re absolutely ruined over this- and it was never even real.
You keep telling yourself that. It was fake. It was never real.
But it feels real, the memories feel real. You know they happened, you know Clarisse touched you so often it’s like you’re burned with it. You say she had to have felt it to, because the more you remember the more you remember the electricity, the charge in the air.
But you might just be making that up.
Lunch is the worst time. She’s always so happy at lunch, her and her table laughing loudly. She mentioned to you once, one of those fake star-studded dates in the woods, that she’s always to tired by dinner time because she trains so hard for most of the day.
You stare at her when no one’s looking, and everyone can see you better in the bright light of day- and you can’t look away.
Tyla mumbles that they’re gonna get up to make their offerings, she doesn’t ask if you’re gonna come. You’re probably not even going to eat more than a few bites again.
You’re alone at the stone table.
Xavier sees that as an opportunity.
Love spells are best to break on a full moon. You thought it would go on longer than this, and he’s only become more emboldened by what everyone sees as a breakup.
He sits down next to you, smiling sadly. You prop your head up in your hand.
“Y/N, you sad angel.” His hand grazes your shoulder, you can’t be bothered to tell him to stop. He places a flower in front of you. “To cheer you up.”
“Thanks, Xavier,” you mutter. He stares at you for a moment longer. Jackie comes back, slamming her tray down onto the table.
“Go away, Xavier,” she says, the same thing she says every day. Jackie has this look in her eyes that lets you know she’s ready to jump on you if she has to.
You think he would stop trying, but he can’t. He can’t because of this stupid love spell that ruined everything. And you can’t even take it off of him, not until the full moon.
You wouldn’t feel like this if it wasn’t for that love spell.
—-
There is one a day a year that Chiron turns a blind eye to parties. The summer solstice all of the cabin leaders come together to throw a huge party, mostly centered around the bonfire, food and drinks and even music. It’s the one night a year where you’re allowed to be teenagers, and it’s not taken lightly.
It even makes you feel a little excited.
“So what if all that shit happened?” Tyla asked. “We’re gonna make sure you look as hell at this party, and then you’re gonna go find someone and make out with them in a dark corner. Don’t even look who it is. Just grab the first random person and kiss them.”
“Okay, well, I’m not doing that, but I will do something of the sort. There is definitively some making out on my list tonight.”
“Oh, as long as it’s not with Xavier,” Tyla frets.
Jackie kicks her. “If Y/N makes out with Xavier, I will personally pay Chiron a million dollars to feed both of them to some horrible monster.”
“Supportive,” you muse.
Jackie gasps. “I forgot about this dress.”
“For which one of us?” Tyla asks.
Jackie turns around, holding up the back dress. It’s sparkly, a slit up the side, going just to your knees. It’s ruffled at the chest, thin spaghetti straps for the top. You can’t wear it. It’s too much, too revealing.
You look around the room.
Most of your siblings are wearing worse.
And you need to get your mind off her.
“I’m wearing that.”
Tyla squeals and Jackie lays it out on your bed.
You’ll forget about her tonight, you promise yourself.
—-
The bonfire burns high and bright, and even 20 feet away from it the feeling is burning. It’s so hot you’re glad you wore this barely there grass, it frees up your skin to touch the cool summer air.
You, Tyla and Jackie had gratefully taken a few too many sips of the alcohol someone had managed to sneak in and was now passing around.
Everything is so funny in the firelight.
Tyla’s tall heels keep sinking into the grass, and you keep giggling when your own do the same. You’re all holding onto each other, barely able to stand.
There was more nail polish fumes in the cabin than usual, and you’ll swear on your life that it gets to your head.
“Noooooo,” Tyla moans, sinking yet again into the grass. She gasps, pointing at the logs currently abandoned. “I’ll just walk on those!”
Your heels sink into the dirt.
“Me too,” you say, smiling as you grab Tyla’s hand and begin your ascent. Jackie ran off with an Apollo boy a minute ago, the first of your group to leave.
You grab onto each other, laughing boisterously as you keep almost falling.
“I-I can bare-barely stand!” you shout, giggling as you throw your arms to the sides.
“Me either!” Tyla shouts back. She jumps off, walking between the end of that one to the beginning of the next log.
“Hey, do you think I can jump and make it?”
Tyla judges the maybe 4 foot jump.
“I don’t know.”
“Well, I’m gonna try,” you giggle. “I’m gonna jump!”
“Whoooo!” Tyla shouts, laughing too. This entire night is just about you and your friends and laughter. She starts clapping. “Y/N, Y/N, Y/N, Y/N,”
You jump, eyes screwed shut, slamming into something mid air and being brought to the ground.
“Wh-” you mumble, and Tyla let’s out a gasp.
“Are you trying to kill yourself?” Clarisse scolds, her hands quickly falling from your waist.
And, of course, the first instinct of your intoxicated brain is to start screaming.
Clarisse grabs your arm and drags you off, past the light of the fire and into a space between the cabins. She slaps her hand over your mouth and you shut up.
“Are you going to stop being such a baby now?”
She lets go of your face and you immediately stumble forward so she has to catch you, pressing your finger into her chest.
“You, demon, are not my mother! So, I don’t know what you’re doing.”
She laughs, holding you up.
“Oh, you’re drunk.”
“Tipsy,” you correct. “As I was saying, don’t you remember, Clarisse, we will never be something to each other.” You push her away from you, heels sinking into the ground and keeping you upright.
Her face falls.
It’s so dark in here but you’re so close to her you can tell.
“Y/N, I-”
You can’t listen to her talk so softly. Being away from the heat of the fire clears up your brain.
“Where’s Tyla?” her hands fall from your hips. “Tyla?!” you dig you heels out of the mud, finding her sitting on the log, talking animatedly to Matty about something. “Oh,” you mumble.
They’re both so absorbed in each other they don’t hear you. And suddenly, you’re the last one left.
You head to a nearby table and chug a bottle of water, shoving a cupcake into your mouth.
“I’m not gonna be alone tonight,” you mumble to yourself. You look up at the almost full moon. You eyes scan the crowd. Xavier isn’t exactly bad looking, and you just need someone tonight. You need anything.
You don’t know where Clarisse is. You tell yourself you don’t care.
You move through the crowd, adjusting your hair, breathing in and out. You won’t be alone tonight. You won’t.
You spot him sitting off to the side with his friends, the group of them sharing a bottle just like you did.
“Xavier!” you shout. His eyes turn to you immediately. He shoves the bottle into his friends hands, standing up and walking over to you like it was his entire purpose to.
“Y/N,” he eyes you up and down. “You look- you look fucking hot.”
“Thank you. Now, dance with me.”
He follows you, his arm gripped in your hand, you can feel him staring at your ass and you don’t care, dragging him towards the music, towards the dance floor.
His hand is all over your ass, your thigh, your hips, drawing you closer to him as you spin and his other winds it’s way around your face.
He’s not her. You can’t bring yourself to feel guilty about imagining her hands on you.
You put your arms around his neck, dancing in a way that would probably make your mother blush.
When you open your eyes, they’re locked with hers.
She seems to have made her way back to her friends, sitting on a log, leaning against her arm and staring at you. Her hands are clenched the same way they were that day. You can see her, you can see her perfectly and she can see you perfectly. She can see you and him.
Good.
You smile at her, waving the way you would have done to Xavier, except now the roles are reversed. He gets to have you, and she has to watch.
His mouth finds your neck. You laugh, throwing your head back, you don’t imagine her lips there. You just sink into the moment.
When your lips crash against his, there’s nothing except hot, hot desire. Like a blue flame, you’re all teeth and tongue, clashing together in a way that is purely carnal.
His hands are everywhere and you love it. It’s like a game, trying to guess where he’ll go next, and it keeps you so wonderfully distracted.
He tugs at the slit of your dress. You pull away for air.
“N-not here. Not yet.”
His greedy hand remains where it is until you shove it down, laughing lightly.
“Maybe later,” you whisper.
“You’re so beautiful,” he mumbles into your neck. “Just let me…” he spins you two around, his hand slips under your dress, against your bare ass.
“Xavier-” you push at his greedy hand again.
“So, so beautiful, like you’re a witch-”
He’s ripped away from you.
You watch in horror as Clarisse grabs him by the front of his shirt and punches him square in the face.
You start screaming obscenities at the top of your lungs.
Xavier only seems to find it funny.
“You fuckin’ jealous, Clarisse?” he laughs. “Fuckin’ jealous, wonder if he’d be proud of you now, beating up his own son for a daughter of Aphrodite?”
She punches him again. Again.
“Fuckin’ jealous?” he says again, laughing, spitting out blood. “Are you fucking jealous?”
One of her siblings finally grabs her and pulls her away. She shoves them off of her.
“I’ll kill you,” she whispers to him. He doesn’t seem scared at all. You stand there and watch, stupidly, feeling like a bird from the skies watching it all unfold, unable to do anything. “Stay away from her. Stay the fuck away from her.”
She looks at you, you faintly realize the music’s stopped.
“Clarisse-”
“She’s not yours!” Xavier laughs from the ground. “The weak Aphrodite girl doesn’t belong to you, that’s gotta sting, Clarisse-”
A love spell only change’s one’s emotions towards a person. Their personalities are the same. They way they behave under a love spell is the same way they’d behave in a regular relationship, except with a lasting relentlessness.
“Shut up, Xavier!” you shout. You’re so sick of him. Sick of his bullshit. He can’t even make out with you without thinking about the next step.
You see it fade from his eyes.
It shouldn’t be.
You watch in horror as the spell falls, you realize this all wasn’t supposed to happen. You were never supposed to actually kiss him.
“Witch,” he mumbles. He was just moaning that against your cheek a minute ago.
He holds his hands to his already red face.
“You’re a fucking witch.”
Everyone is looking at you, for once in your life, you hate it.
“It wasn’t supposed to be like this,” you whisper.
Your eyes meet Clarisse’s. You can’t tell what’s on her face. You walk away.
—-
She finds you under the stars. Of course she does. You didn’t know where else to go. Cabin too stuffy. The lake is too far. The only place left is the woods, the spots where you would go with her.
She stands behind you. You can hear her breathing.
“Do you need something?” you mutter.
“I was selfish,” she starts.
You snort. Clarisse La Rue is a lot of things, you’ll be here all night.
“And I was hurt. So I took it out on you, which I really, really regret. You didn’t deserve that and it wasn’t true.”
It wasn’t true.
“Um, I was scared. So I made a decision for the both of us. But I’m not scared anymore.”
You place your hand on the grass next to you.
She sits, you don’t look at each other.
“That was all I had planned, but more has happened, so… uh, I was watching you the entire night, I guess. Not in a creepy way. I mean, you look, that dress… I couldn’t take my eyes away. Then you almost killed yourself on the logs.”
You smile.
“And I touched you again and I just, it was so much. Then you were on the dance floor, and he was all over you and- I was jealous. I was so jealous, like, I was actually about to go insane. And I saw you push his hand away, I saw him do it again, and I…”
“Went insane, berserk, crazy? Lost all proprietary?”
“Yeah,” she murmurs. “All of that. I’m not gonna apologize for punching the shit out of him. But I am sorry for the things I said.”
“Did you mean it?”
She just seems grateful you’re talking to her.
“Mean what?”
“That it wasn’t true.”
“It wasn’t true.”
You finally look at her. It feels so good to let go. To finally look at her, finally see her.
“I-I was just angry, and I-”
You’re sick of hearing her talk.
It’s nothing like the kiss with Xavier.
Its slow and sweet, heady like syrup, and you feel like you’re sinking beneath the current of some river. Your hands are on her face, she rests hers on your neck.
The kiss was Xavier was pure passion, no love, just bodies and bodies and no thoughts between them. This is all care, this is all slowness, this is all appreciation. It’s faces and faces, singular focus, one intent.
You pull away.
“I was so jealous,” she breathes, like it’s an explanation for the way she grabs you closer, harder, more, kissing you like Xavier did except it’s all erased. You can’t even remember what it feels like for someone else to touch you, let alone kiss you.
It just feels like her. It all feels like her, before her and after her.
When she finally starts to kiss down your neck, it’s so slow again, it’s like she can’t believe you’re in her arms, it’s like she can’t believe she’s got your hands on you. You grab her shoulders, you have her.
You look up towards the sky. Sorry I ever doubted you. Thanks, Mom.
You could see her across from you, you could see her on the dance floor, but now you can see her.
—-
y/n, talking to matty: yes i’m like about to slay amokinesis in a way it has never been slayed before
clarisse, who is NOT catching feelings: what the hell is this bitch doing to my girl
clarisse: ykw… im just gonna…. take her back thank you oh wdym no he’s looking we gotta fake date obvi (clarisse does not care if he’s looking)
—-
y/n, about to fucking die: i’m a bird! i’m jumping!
clarisse: no the fuck you’re not!
—-
clarisse when y/n is dancing in THE DRESS: oh i’m bricked up
—-
clarisse: if this bitch doesn’t get OFF my girl i’m gonna KILL SOMEONE
literally everyone: YOUR girl????
clarisse: nvm i’m just gonna fight him
everyone: not a logical solution???
—-
shoutout to jackie, tyla, and matty the loves of my life COULD NOT DO THIS WITHOUT THEM
also the tyla and matty agenda WILL be pushed
—-
taglist:
@lvrue @t-wylia @laughingcheese037 @kroumi @urdeadpoet @colezb @rey26 @harmzilla @elliewilliamsbae @amberfreemansburntface @kyuupidwrites @neverwaakeme-up @shark1008 @liballer @heyimadison
1K notes · View notes
futureman · 7 months
Text
old dogs don't change
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pairing: joel miller x f!reader
summary: weeks after sleeping together, your no-strings-attached agreement goes up in flames when joel goes on a date with another woman. you make sure that never happens again. (sequel to keep it on the low)
warnings: 18+ MDNI, ex-boyfriend!joel, jackson era, tlou 2 jesse appearance, age gap, hurt, angst, smut, unprotected piv, post-breakup sex, rough sex, public sex, rough oral (m!receiving), exhibitionism, possessive behavior, jealousy, alcohol use, briefly dating other people
word count: 10.6k
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You have no idea who she is, but you bet she’s a total bitch. Is that mean? Maybe. Do you give a shit? Nope.
To be fair, you’d probably say that about anyone Joel started dating after you, but that doesn’t mean it can’t still be true. Sure, you've never actually talked to her…or seen her before in your entire life, but that’s beside the point. She’s cute and bubbly, and everything you’re not, and that’s the point. 
It’s honestly a little comical how different the two of you are, and you can’t help but wonder if Tommy did that on purpose. You know he was the one who set them up. Everyone in the dining hall was talking about it this morning. The latest, hottest piece of gossip, bouncing from table to table like a cruel game of telephone. 
He probably thinks he’s protecting his big brother, but you think he needs to mind his own fucking business. It’s not like he knows anything about your relationship, not really. Well. It’s not your relationship anymore, is it? And Tommy, along with everyone else in this town, blames you for that.
Poor Joel, dumped by the biggest bitch in Jackson, who took advantage of his kindness and patience for years, and broke his heart when all he did was love her. Selfish, cold, and uncaring. Nothing like the pretty, perky girl sitting next to him in the booth they’re sharing at Seth’s. 
If only they knew what really happened.
The bar is especially busy, even for a Saturday night, so you figure no one’ll notice you blatantly glaring at them. It’s not like you care, anyway. You’re feeling warm and loose, and maybe a little too tipsy for your own good, but tonight, you get to do whatever the fuck you want. 
Because Joel’s sitting ten feet away with his arm slung around another woman, and it hurts. 
It sucks way worse than him avoiding you since the last time you slept together, after all of the things you did and said on that couch. The things he said. You shoo away the thought with another swig of beer, wishing you were drinking something stronger. It's for the best. 
If you get any drunker, you’ll probably end up doing something stupid, and the last thing you need is to prove everyone right that he’s better off without you. But you can’t seem to shake the anger that’s starting to simmer below the surface. 
With the emotional toll this night has already taken, you kind of don’t want to. So, you surrender to it. Fuck him. He’s a piece of shit for parading his new girl around right in front of you, and for breaking off your agreement without so much as a word. 
If he wanted to see other people, he should’ve opened his mouth and used his big boy words. Then again, he’s always been terrible at that, so why are you surprised? 
Maybe he’ll fuck her tonight. Touch her all of the ways you like because that’s all he knows anymore. She’ll moan for him, soft and sweet, gentle in her affection, just like she’s touching him right now. But it won’t satisfy him, and when he’s panting on top of her, chasing that all-consuming release only you can give him, you know he’ll be pretending she's you. 
Asshole.
You’re still watching them, shooting daggers from your spot at the bar, when your wish from earlier is granted. Two overflowing shot glasses topped with lime are placed in front of you, and you look up to see a very attractive dark-haired, brown-eyed man smirking down at you.
"Looked a little lonely over here," he says in a raspy baritone even lower than Joel's. He clinks the top of your beer bottle with the bottom of his own. "Thought you could use some company, maybe another drink."
Well, he’s right. You could use some company, and you’d love another drink. There’s no harm in having a little fun, right? If Joel’s doing it, then there’s nothing stopping you.
"So, both of these are for me, then?" you smile coyly, reaching for one. He nods, his own smile widening.
"Could be. Can I join ya?" he gestures to the empty stool next to you. 
He has this cocky look on his face like he already knows you'll say yes, and in your inebriated state, you think it's kind of hot. It reminds you of Joel when you first met. How he knew exactly what he wanted and wouldn't give up until it was his. Until you were his.
You consider him for a moment. He’s young, maybe even younger than you, and obviously confident enough to make a move on you. Fleetingly, you think he might end up being that stupid thing you do tonight, but then you down one of the shots and decide you don't actually care. 
What turns out to be tequila burns the entire way down, and you immediately pick up a slice of lime. You’re hyperaware of the way his eyes lock onto your mouth as you suck on the sour fruit, lingering when a droplet of juice dribbles down your chin. 
It’s not a total surprise when he reaches up to thumb it away, but you are taken off guard by how strange it makes you feel. The pad of his finger is disappointingly smooth, no weathering or even a hint of a callus. You're not sure why that matters to you, but you can take a decent guess.
You chance a glance over at Joel's table and, of course, you have his full attention now. His entire body looks tense, from his hand clenched on the table to the prominent vein bulging angrily in his neck. 
Good. Now he knows how it feels.
Looking back up at your mystery guy, you run your tongue along your bottom lip, catching any remaining lime before you finally give him an answer. 
"Sure. Pop a squat, cowboy," you giggle. It doesn't even sound like you and feels wrong the second it passes your lips, but as long as Joel heard it, that's all that matters. "You got a name?"
He replies, but you're too busy keeping an eye on Joel in your peripheral to catch what he says. In the back of your mind, you think that’s probably a good thing. You'd rather not know, especially if you do end up taking him home. 
Mystery guy laughs at your noncommittal hum and you realize you’ve been caught. But he doesn’t seem upset. It’s clear he’s amused by your obvious interest elsewhere and that piques your curiosity. 
Any other guy here would’ve been pissed by your apathy, especially if they’d bothered to buy you a drink that you accepted, but apparently not this one.
He sits down on the stool next to you, pulling it close enough that his knee presses against yours. You unconsciously lean into him, your skin erupting in goosebumps despite your growing unease.
He's...baffling. A total enigma. You can’t figure out what his deal is or why he’s choosing to keep pursuing you when your eyes have been glued to another man all night. 
The thought of letting this continue long enough to find out is a little thrilling. Might as well see where this goes. If it escalates, you’re more than confident in your ability to care of yourself.
But it happens sooner than you expect. His hand finds the back of your stool and, then, his lips are suddenly right next to your cheek. You can feel the warmth of them as he tilts his head to whisper in your ear.
“Look, not try'na to overstep, but…,” his eyes dart to where Joel’s sitting, unreservedly ignoring his date. The poor thing barely notices, chattering away about something not nearly as important to him as watching you. His gaze returns to you, and you can feel him smirking. “You wanna make that guy you've been staring at all night jealous?"
That’s—wow. You didn’t see that one coming. He’s got a lot of audacity to assume that’s something you’d want, let alone offer…what? His services? 
But, then again, he isn’t wrong. Joel’s been the only thing on your mind since you walked into Seth’s tonight and saw him with her. He’s always on your mind if you’re being totally honest with yourself. It’s plain to see, obvious to every single person in this bar including the man himself.
You eye your mystery guy curiously for a second before nodding, your lips quirking into a small smirk. Maybe it’s time to prove to Joel and everyone else in this judgmental town that you’ve moved on, too. That you’re not the sad, bitter shrew that deserves to be alone.
"Yeah, actually, I do," you reply cautiously. But there's still one lingering question that has yet to be answered. "I just…why? I don’t get why you’re helping me. What are you getting out of this?”
He shrugs, and somehow you can just tell by the look in his eyes that there’s no hidden agenda. You’re not sure how you’re just noticing, but he has kind eyes. This whole time, he’s been nothing but patient and attentive, like Joel always was—...is? 
Was.
You almost wish you could fall for someone like this man instead of pathetically clinging to your past. Maybe you’ll at least get a friend out of this crazy night, if nothing else. But then you remember one, tiny problem with that idea.
“Can you tell me your name again? I promise you have my full attention this time,” you smile sheepishly. He chuckles good-naturedly and, again, doesn’t seem to hold it against you.
“It’s Jesse,” he says with a deep, southern drawl you should probably be more attracted to. “And let’s just say I know how it feels to want someone ya can’t have.”
You nod slowly, understanding perfectly. Except—you didn't realize up until this moment that that's exactly what you want. Someone you can't ever have. 
And it took seeing Joel with someone else, his body pressed up against a woman that isn't you, to realize it. Well, that fucking sucks.
You decide not to ask about Jesse's situation. It's not your business and, anyway, you're both trying to feel better about your circumstances, not worse. 
There’s a silent sense of camaraderie between you that tells you to throw caution to the wind. Tossing back the second shot, you turn your stool to face his, literally and figuratively turning your back on Joel. 
“It’s really nice to meet you, Jesse,” you murmur, and you genuinely mean it. He grins, leaning in slowly, still giving you time to back out if you want to, but you don't. 
Eat your heart out, Joel Miller. This one's for you.
"S'nice to meet you, too," he replies softly. 
Then, his lips are on yours. The kiss is wet and open-mouthed, and yet he handles you so delicately. He cradles your face in his hands as his tongue brushes against yours, and you moan softly into his mouth, letting your body get lost in the way he feels. And he feels so—
Much different than Joel. 
All you can think about is how much you miss Joel's rough touch, the way he'd thread his fingers through your hair and tug you into his mouth, nearly devouring you whole. Joel kissed you like every time might be the last, right up until it actually was. 
Fucking hell, why can't you just enjoy this without him ruining it for you?
You try to forget about it, about him, licking into Jesse's mouth a little more aggressively, and he groans, his body eager and responsive. It's probably more than you should be doing in public, sitting at a bar surrounded by people but, hell, you want them to see. 
They can say whatever they want about you. You're done giving a shit.
And, boy, will they have a lot to talk about after tonight. Joel makes sure of that. It happens so fast, you barely register that Jesse’s lips aren’t on yours anymore like they should be.
One moment, Jesse's hands are trailing down your sides to your waist, and the next, he's being forcibly dragged off you. Between you stands a broad, imposing figure ensuring you stay separated.
Your mind goes blank, and all you can do is watch in shock and disbelief as Joel lets loose on him, his words possessive and almost nonsensical. 
"The fuck you think you're doin' touchin' her like that? Y'need to learn how to keep your hands to yourself, kid, before ya get yourself in trouble," he grits out angrily. 
To his credit, Jesse stays cool and collected, but it’s not enough. There’s already a few pairs of eyes on you, drawn by the physical altercation, and it won’t be long before the rest of the bar notices the impending fight.
"Respectfully, sir, s'long as the lady consents, I'll put my hands wherever she wants," Jesse replies, standing his ground. He tries to move around him to return to your side, but Joel fixes him with a look that sends a shiver down your spine.
"S'that really a good idea?" Joel sounds menacing and looks even more so the longer the conversation continues. 
You’re still numb to everything unfolding in front of you and it’s not until Jesse’s next to you again, snaking an arm around your waist, that you finally come to. The reality of your situation hits you like a ton of bricks and now you’re mad. You open your mouth to retaliate, but Jesse cuts you off before you can get a word in.
“There a reason it wouldn’t be?” he turns the question back on Joel and you tense, anticipating a less-than-friendly answer. Jesse squeezes your hip in reassurance, but it does nothing to soothe your unease. He doesn’t know Joel like you do.
“Kid, do I look like I’m fuckin’ around? Take your hands off her and walk away. M'not gonna tell you again,” he all but growls, taking a threatening step forward. 
Neither of you back down. Jesse’s arm stays firm around you as your nails bite into your palm. It's taking everything you've got not to make a bigger scene than you already have.
You knew it. Since the breakup, you’ve been trying to reconcile this increasingly unfamiliar man with the Joel you gave your entire heart to all those years ago. With each passing month, the differences between the two become more and more obvious.
He's angrier now and has so much less patience. It's not that he's unkind. You know that no matter what his circumstances are, Joel will continue to be a good man. But he has a hair trigger, especially when it comes to you. 
And he wants. God, he always wants you. It’s not that you didn’t have an active sex life before everything fell apart. He just...fucks you differently now. Possessively and without restraint, like he needs to be sure you're satisfied enough to never need anyone else. The agreement to keep sleeping together was actually his idea. And it worked for a while—until it suddenly didn't. 
Now, you're forced to come face-to-face with that reality. Sitting at this bar, you spent the entirety of the night believing he'd decided he didn't want you anymore, that he was ready to find happiness in something simpler than sneaking around with his ex.
Except, it's starting to feel like maybe that's not as true as he made it seem. Like he never should've gone on this date in the first place.
"What the fuck, Joel?" you hiss, fighting to keep your volume under control. Not that it matters. The entire bar is staring at you, their eyes ping-ponging back and forth like they're watching a tennis match. "Back the fuck off. Now. This is none of your business."
"The hell it ain't my business. Some kid's runnin' his hands all over another man's girl and y'think that ain't my business?" 
His trembling hands clench into fists at his sides and, while you’re betting the rest of the bar thinks he’s preparing for a fight, that isn’t Joel. It might be you, though, if he keeps this up.
"Excuse me? And whose girl am I—yours? Because I'm pretty sure your girl is sitting over there in that booth. Or did you forget about your date?"
For a moment, he actually has the nerve to look ashamed, like he feels bad about leaving her all alone at their table and for humiliating her in front of all these people. He avoids her crestfallen gaze, likely not ready to face the hurt he’s caused. 
But it only lasts for a second before his eyes darken again, focused solely on you. As if Jesse, his pretty date, and everyone else in this bar disappeared, and it's just you and him. This conversation doesn't include them anymore. It's a private matter now.
"We're leavin'," he says with finality, his tone leaving no room for argument. 
He should know better. That's not how things work with you. You’re a fighter, a trait he’s always loved about you, even if your ire was directed at him. Back then, it rarely was.
"You're out of your mind if you think I'm leaving with you," you scoff bitterly. "Go back to your date, I'll go back to mine, and we can forget about this. All of it. We're done, Joel."
He shakes his head, mouth tipping down into a frown like he's thinking something over. Then, he huffs out a laugh. Like, an actual laugh, and you start to think maybe he really has lost his mind.
"Y'know, I really don't think we are, darlin'," he drawls dangerously. 
He's on you in an instant, his hand wrapped tightly around your arm as he drags you out of the bar. You briefly consider resisting, but he's moving too quickly. All of those shots you downed combined with the beer you drank earlier go straight to your head, and you're suddenly overwhelmingly distracted by the feeling of his skin on yours.
Fuck, it feels like it's been so long. In reality, you know it's only been a few weeks but, god, you missed it. His hands on your body, anywhere at all on your body. You'd hate how quickly you forget about Jesse if you could think about anything else but those familiar, rough fingertips.
The way they dig into you, reminiscent of how he'd squeeze your thighs or clutch your waist when he was making love to you.
...Wait, what? No...no, fuck. Why is he making this so difficult? Why—Christ...why can't you just leave each other alone? If he never planned on letting you go, he shouldn't have broken up with you. And if he still wanted you this badly...all he had to do was ask. You would've said yes in a heartbeat.
So, you let him steal you away, out into the brisk, wintry air that does little to cool your fury or the heat beginning to coil in your belly. The door shuts noisily behind you, and you immediately wrench your arm out of his grasp before he can say a word. It's your turn to talk now.
"What is wrong with you? You can't just...fuck, you can't do shit like this!" You're seething, practically shaking in your rage, and his expression doesn't look much different. 
"And you can? I dunno what the hell you were thinkin' gettin’ cozy with some goddamn kid, lettin’ him touch ya like that in front of the whole town," he reiterates harshly. He's starting to sound like a broken record. It's the only leverage he's got, and you both know it's flimsy at best.
"Some kid? Jesse's a fucking adult, clearly more mature than you," you bite back. "And it’s a bar, Joel. That's what people do at bars."
Joel scoffs, and you can tell he hates the way Jesse's name falls from your lips. Especially when those lips were on yours not even ten minutes ago. 
"And who are you to decide who can and can't touch me? You broke up with me," you continue resentfully. "You don't get a say anymore."
At that, his face becomes unreadable. He didn't need the reminder, and you know that, but it needed to be said for both of your sakes. Sometimes you think maybe he actually forgets it was his choice to give you up. That he didn't realize his decision would hurt you as much as it hurt him.
"So, what? You gonna take him home then, let him fuck ya?" He leans in close, so close you can feel his soft, graying curls against your temple and the coarse drag of his beard across your cheek. 
"Kiss ya here—," a finger trails delicately down the side of your neck to his spot above your collarbone, then continues down to where you've been aching for him for weeks, "—taste ya here." 
You slap his hand away before he can get any further, but your reaction only spurs him on. How could you forget? He likes that.
"Y'know he can't make ya feel as good as I do. Fuck you just how y'like it, make ya cum as hard as I do," he drawls confidently, almost smugly, in your ear. "Don't ya?"
It's less a question than a statement, because you both know he's right. Joel knows your body better than anyone ever has, maybe even better than you know it yourself. Just as much as you know his. And it's sort of funny. You were thinking the exact same thing about him with his date earlier.
"Sure, Joel. Just like you were gonna take that girl home, right?" You raise an eyebrow, turning your head so your lips graze his skin. "Pretty little thing like her, I bet she likes it slow and romantic. She’ll probably even stick around for a snuggle and some pillow talk. You'd love that.”
Even as you mock him, the sneer marring your face doesn’t quite meet your eyes, and the spiteful nature of your words tastes acrid as they pass your lips. He’s so good at that. Always able to bring out the worst in you to prove his point—that he’s no good for you.
But you stand firm, your chest pressed flush against his in a show of determination. You're still in control here, unlike Joel, whose fingers are twitching noticeably at his sides like he's just itching to get his hands on you again. 
"Maybe I would. Liked it with you, didn't I?" he murmurs wistfully, and that catches you completely off guard.
His words are almost too gentle to belong in this argument, and it doesn’t feel fair. What's worse, he looks like he means them. You’d prefer the fight, the aggression of the man who dragged you out of the bar. Not this. Not these traces of your Joel. 
You can already feel your resolve slipping, and the rapid thrum of your heartbeat tells you to let it. When his hands finally take their rightful place on your waist, he’s in control again.
The cool evening air is suddenly stifling, and you’re starting to feel like you’re suffocating, your thoughts a jumbled, heated haze of anger and fear and want. He squeezes hard enough to pull your hips into his and you unintentionally buck, allowing his hands to travel up your shirt. 
There's an intensity to his gaze, tinged with an unexpected tenderness. He almost looks...sated. Fulfilled, now that you're back in his arms. But not completely, not yet.
"You still haven't answered my question," he mutters. His hands splay across your ribcage, high enough for his thumbs to tease the undersides of your breasts.
You bite down hard on your bottom lip, sliding your hands up his chest to push him away so you can catch your breath, but your body won't cooperate. It's been well-trained to crave his touch. Exhaling sharply through your nose, you fist his shirt and instead pull him impossibly closer.
"You asked a lot of questions tonight. You're gonna have to be a little more specific,” you pant heavily.
It's getting more difficult to think, now, with the warmth of his body against you, his thumbs shifting higher to stroke your stiffening nipples. He urges your hips forward again to meet his, and you can already feel him straining in his jeans.
You whimper helplessly, unable to curb the way your body's reacting to him, and the soft sound causes something in him to snap. He suddenly backs you up against the hard brick of the bar's exterior and begins to grind languidly into your stomach. 
"Y'really believe that boy can take care of a woman like you? Hm?" He interrogates you, his voice gravelly and uneven in your ear. "Tell me I'm the only one who can give you what ya need. Wanna hear ya say it."
Fuck, you can't lie to him. As much as you want to, it's just one more thing your body won't allow you to do. Not when he's working you up like this. 
"You're the only one," you moan around your admission. He's still crowding you into the wall, his hands greedily roaming your soft curves.
His eyes meet yours, darting quickly to your mouth before he leans in to kiss you passionately like he’s rewarding you. It only lasts for a second, one deliciously fleeting second, before he pulls away. You’re not sure why you let him. Or why you kissed back.
"Who's the only man who can make ya scream?" he demands a little more urgently.
"You, Joel,” you murmur obediently, your lips already parted and ready for your prize.
And he acquiesces—another insistent kiss that doesn’t last nearly long enough. This time, you chase him, but he jerks his head back. He still has one last question for you. Except, this time, he looks afraid of the answer. 
"Whose girl are ya?"
He whispers it so softly, you barely catch it over the whistling, nighttime breeze. As he brushes a few ruffled strands of hair behind your ear, you answer without hesitation. 
"Yours, Joel."
His entire body relaxes. Now, he's complete.
"Damn right, you are—"
Then, the front door bursts open next to you, and he's abruptly cut off. Joel is quick to tug you around the corner into the alleyway before anyone can spot you, but he's not fast enough to keep you from seeing who just left the bar.
Jesse.
And there it is. A shock to the system, enough to clear some of that smoky, nostalgic haze and bring you back to the present. But as everything hurtles back for the second time tonight, this time around, you can’t be mad because he’s right.
Of course, you're not Jesse's girl. As pathetic as it sounds, you'll always be Joel's because he’s the only one who can take care of you and give you what need. The only man who can make you scream. But that goes both ways.
Even though he’s been picking fights all night, he hasn’t raised his voice once. It's not the way he wins his battles. So, maybe it's time to remind Joel Miller that there is someone who can make him scream. But he isn't allowed to unless you say so.
It all feels eerily familiar—his fingers digging into your waist and your lips crashing into his hard enough to bruise. You lead him deeper into the alley, back to where the glow of the string lights above the bar can't reach you, before you separate from him. 
Neither of you wants to be the one to say it, but it needs to be heard. Here, in the dark, you can be his completely, but once you part ways and return to your empty beds, that's it. Just like last time. The reasons for your breakup are still very real, and that means your relationship can't be.
"Only here. Right, Joel?"   
He stays silent for a moment, his gaze filled with deep longing and sadness. It almost makes you want to take it back. Take him back. So, when he shakes his head and cups your cheeks, kissing you like this might be his last chance, you're not surprised in the slightest.
And after this whole night—this whole confusing, fucked-up night—you let him. Right now, he needs this. Maybe you do, too.
His lips taste like whiskey and relief, and you return his kiss with all of the passion and fervor he’s pouring into you. You’re both a little frantic in the way you touch each other, but as much as you don’t want it to, it makes perfect sense. 
Those few weeks without each other felt like years, and now that his hands are back on your body and his voice, deep and dulcet, is in your ear telling you how badly he wants you, you don’t want to let him go again.
You grind the heel of your hand into the front of his jeans and his responding groan pleases you more than it probably should. This. This is yours—his pleasure, his attention, him. They belong to you and you alone. Not his pretty, perky fucking date. 
The sudden possessiveness stuns you for a moment, but it's not enough to stop the feeling from consuming you. This must be how it feels for Joel. It's potent and feels so, so…right. You're starting to think you've felt this way for a while.
"I needed you, and you made me wait so fucking long," you gasp against his lips, and the fingers cradling your face tense. You’re still fisting his shirt, nearly hard enough to tear, and you wrench it up from where it’s tucked into his pants. 
"M'sorry, darlin', I know. I know I did,” he rasps back, following your lead and dropping his hands from your cheeks so he can unbuckle his jeans. “M'gonna make it up to ya. Tell me what you want, I’ll give it to ya.”
You want everything. Everything he has to give, you want it all. After everything you've been through, the hurt he caused you, you deserve it. And right now, what you want is for him to feel so good, he'll never go on a date with someone who isn't you ever again.
Sharp gravel bites into your bare skin as you drop to your knees in front of him. He's already so hard under all that heavy fabric and looks desperate above you. Just as desperate as you are for him to replace the flavor of Jesse's tequila and lime on your tongue with something saltier and headier, and undeniably Joel.
You hastily unbutton and unzip his jeans, not wasting any more of the precious time you have left together, before tugging them down just enough to free his cock and balls. He looks...fucking mouth-watering—flushed and red and leaking, and so goddamn thick. You wrap your hand around him and he sighs gratefully, dribbling precum onto your fingers.
"This is what I want," you finally reply, keeping your eyes locked on his as you lean forward to lick a broad line up his cock. He hisses in a breath through his teeth, his thighs already beginning to tremble, and you brace your hand on one. "But you're gonna be quiet, okay? I'm gonna suck your cock and you're not gonna make a single sound."
His expression darkens, but he agrees to your terms, nonetheless.
"Sure, darlin'. Whatever you say," he nods, gazing down at you with furrowed brows. He cradles your face in his hand and brushes his thumb along your cheekbone.
The affectionate gesture isn't lost on you, but this time you accept it. Instinctively leaning into his touch, you revel in it for a brief moment before his cock pulsing a frantic rhythm against your palm becomes an unignorable distraction. But a welcome one.
"That's my boy," you mumble against the tip. Just as a pained noise escapes his parted lips, you swallow him down as far as you can take him, purposely gagging yourself on him before you can dwell on the words that accidentally just tumbled out.
Your boy. Your boy. It echoes in your mind, ricocheting wildly and painfully like a bullet. Before you can take it back, maybe even to keep you from taking it back, he buries his fingers in your hair and holds you in place. You choke around him, trying your best to breathe through your nose, but in doing so, you take in a lungful of the heady musk at his base.
The familiarity of it all sends you reeling. He only gives you a second to adjust before he's fucking into your mouth and biting back a litany of needy sounds that rival your own wet, audible gagging. Your grip on his thigh tightens as your throat relaxes, allowing you to take him deeper, and you can feel yourself clenching around nothing every time he grazes the back of your throat. 
Tears stream down your cheeks and he wipes them away with a much too tender swipe of his thumb, even as he continues to force you up and down his cock. But you're too lost in your pleasure to notice anymore. So fucking good, you feel so, so good. But you need more, and you're not willing to pull off of him just yet.
Tugging down the front of your shirt, you roll a sensitive nipple between your fingers, and, god, that helps. You imagine they're Joel's and it amplifies the sensation, though your fingertips are still too smooth and delicate. Then, they're replaced by exactly what you've been yearning for all night. 
“You don’t even know how beautiful y'look like this,” he grits out, his fingers running through your hair with one hand and roughly cupping your breast with the other. His hips stutter, and you moan around him. “Fuckin’ perfect. How are ya so fuckin’ perfect?”
Beautiful. More beautiful than her? Well, you must be, because you’re the one here on your knees, choking on his cock, and she’s still sitting in the bar wondering if her date will ever come back. 
He won’t.
You preen without meaning to, your eyes blearily finding his while you drool around him, dripping saliva down his balls and onto your bare breasts. It's as if the visual alone has him thrusting into your mouth faster, pushing your limits only as much as he knows you can take. You must look like a wet dream right now, his wet dream, with your watery eyes and swollen, split-slick lips wrapped tightly around him.
Yet, he's remained so, so quiet this entire time, just like you told him to. Joel likes his sex loud, regardless of where you are and who might hear, so if he’s following your rules, that means something. 
It means he'll do whatever it takes to have you. The realization crashes over you like a bucket of ice water, and then you're pulling off of him. 
“You’ll give me anything, right? Anything I want?” your voice cracks around the question, wrecked from the effort of taking him. His hips chase your hand as you continue to pump him, matching his previous, unforgiving pace. 
“That ain’t a question, y’know I will,” he replies breathily and without hesitation. 
You gaze up at him, praying your eyes convey all of the need and anguish and hope you've felt since the last time you slept together. Since the last time you were his.
“Fuck me," and you won't accept anything less than his all. Not that half-assed shit he would've given her. "Fuck me."
He understands. His heart rate kicks up, thrumming wildly against the palm of your hand, and you know he does.
The growl that rumbles through his chest is nearly soundless but powerful. An entire night's worth of tension culminating in a single exhaled breath, just before he drags you up and spins you around, bending you over against the wall. 
Bracing yourself on the harsh brick, you rush to give him better access, arching your back as he tugs your pants and underwear down to your knees. A callused hand runs upward, following the notches of your spine, while his other spreads across your waist, pulling your hips back onto his so you can feel him, heavy and leaking against your bare ass.
God, he’s so close to where you need him now. His knuckles graze your skin as he grips the base, pumping himself before the blunt head of his cock nudges your entrance.
But then, for some godforsaken reason, you feel a wave of panic. Time suddenly feels like it's running out, worsening with every subtle movement he makes. The ticking clock of your and Joel's relationship, perpetually stuck at two minutes to midnight, has sprung to life and that terrifies you.
You don't want him to stop—fuck, you don't want him to stop, but you know neither of you will last long once he's inside you. The build-up was too intense and this entire night has you both wound up so tight, you could snap at any moment. 
You need to savor this. The way you failed to on your couch all those weeks ago, and might not get to ever again.
“Slow,” you tell him over your shoulder, and it's equal parts a command and a plea. If this is the last time, then you want to feel it. Every thick inch of him, while he still belongs to you. “Just…go slow.”
He nods, shifting forward almost imperceptibly so he can watch your lashes flutter as you brace for the stretch.
"Don't need’ta tell me. I know how ya like it," he replies gruffly.
He does. For now, you won’t overthink it or let yourself get lost in the nostalgia of his cock nestled inside you. You’ll just enjoy it. Sex with Joel has always been mind-blowing, and here, in a dirty alleyway, pressed up against the exterior of a bar, you bet it’ll be life-changing.
It stings like it always does when he breaches your entrance, no matter how wet you are for him. Together, you hiss in a sharp breath, mutually adjusting to the overwhelming stretch that quickly ebbs into something addictive.
"Tight as all goddamn hell," he mutters to himself, rocking into you languidly. He takes his time, relishing your walls enveloping him, mesmerized by the way you suck him in until he's buried to the hilt. 
"Would'ja look at that," he continues in awe, tracing where his cock is forcing you to yield to him. "Greedy fuckin' pussy, ain't she? M'not goin' anywhere, don't'chu worry. Gonna take care of ya...make ya feel so fuckin' good..."
He's starting to babble. Not good. Not good at all. 
Broad hands grip your ass, pulling your cheeks apart so he can see how tightly you’re gripping him, and it's too much. His hips buck, startling a pained whine out of you as he rams into that spot. The one deep inside you he can only reach when he’s fucking you from behind. Your cunt clenches, fighting to keep him there, and he growls low in his throat, hungry and territorial like a wild animal.
"There it is," he nudges it again, purposefully this time. You barely manage to bite back a sob as you gush messily around him. "Christ, honey, y'sure ya still want it slow? 'Cus it sure don't sound like it."
He's patronizing you. He knows exactly what he's doing—that's his spot. He also knows it makes you loud as fuck. But he wouldn’t. There’s no way he’d go back on his word, not after he promised he’d be discreet.
"Joel. Don't," you warn him shakily, but you're already too far gone to be intimidating. 
He pulls out until just the tip is still inside you, huffing out a distinctly calculated breath.
"Don't what? Don't make ya cum nice and loud on my cock? 'Fraid I can't do that, darlin'."
That's all the warning you get before he slams in hard. Your jaw drops, and you're positive you couldn't have stopped the wail punched out of your chest even if you'd tried.
Wrong. You’re wrong again, and you should’ve known better. It’s not the first time he’s gone back on his word, remember? Joel’s shitty lack of communication is why you’re here in the first place. Sure, he agreed to be quiet, but he never said anything about you.
He establishes a brutal pace that has you scrabbling against the wall for purchase and slapping a hand over your mouth in a futile attempt to muffle the desperate cries being forced from your body.
Please, don’t be outside. Please, please, Jesse. Don’t still be outside. 
But your luck's officially run out. 
Heavy mahogany crashes into solid brick, echoing down the alleyway, and a raucous group of people spills out onto the street, barely 30 feet from where your ass and tits are out for anyone to see. Then, the deep baritone of Jesse's voice cuts through the rest, and your blood immediately turns to ice. 
You're fucked. You're about to get caught and expose your secret to the entire town, except...Joel isn't stopping. Fuck, he's—
Yanking your entire body up and ripping your hand away from your mouth, rutting into you like he was just waiting for an audience. He snakes a hand up your stomach to palm at your chest, squeezing firmly to anchor himself as he fucks up into you with all the force he can muster.
And it turns you on so much, you finally stop caring. Fuck it. Fuck this town. Fuck everyone in that bar who made you feel like a goddamn pariah for months, crucifying you for the unforgivable sin of getting your heart broken. 
You hope his date's standing out there, too, so she can hear everything she'll never get to have. So they can all see that Joel Miller isn't the crushed, cruelly dumped old man they all thought he was.
Your moans ring out, loud and high-pitched, all but drowning out the messy slap of his hips into the drenched curve of your ass.
"That's it, darlin', let it all out," he chuckles darkly against the shell of your ear. Your next moan tapers into a drawn-out keen that he mimics, his thrusts getting shallow and sloppy. "S'for me, right? Let 'em know you're makin' all those pretty noises just for me."
Christ, you're close. And he's as close as you are, you can feel it. You turn your head, nodding jerkily into his shoulder.
"S'for you, Joel—mmph, just for you. Only for you," your words slur as he continues to bounce you on his cock. 
"Tell 'em you're mine, darlin’. Not just here," he pants raggedly, desperation coating his words. "Everywhere. You're mine everywhere."
The voices are getting closer, about to pass the mouth of the alley, and the ice in your veins quickly thaws, turning to molten lava. They'll definitely be able to able to hear you, but can they see you? For the umpteenth time tonight, you decide you really don't give a shit. You've got none left. You and Joel, that's all that matters now. 
His hand drops between your legs, thick fingers swirling tight, slick circles into your clit while he waits for you to confirm what he already knows. You've said it again and again—weeks ago, wrapped up in his arms, and earlier tonight, after the worst argument you've had since the breakup. 
And you’ll tell him again in this alley as you cum blindingly hard around his cock. Third time's the charm.
"Y-yours, Joel. I'm always yours."
His hips completely lose their rhythm, and he barely has time to breathe out his contentment before the violent convulsing of your cunt and contrasting serenity of your words send him hurtling over the edge.
"That's my girl."
He crashes his lips into yours, swallowing every noise you make as the group finally comes into view. Their drunken chattering and roughhousing aren't enough to draw your attention away from each other, but the depraved sounds of Joel continuing to fuck you through your release captures theirs almost immediately.
A few of them stop to squint into the darkness, trying their best to pinpoint what everyone already knows is happening further down the alley. As they inch closer, they can just barely make out two connected figures, and the wind carrying muffled gasps and labored breathing with it into the street all but confirms it.
"Y'all seein' this?" they whisper amongst themselves, but in the inebriated state they're in, they might as well be yelling.
And that's what pulls you and Joel back to reality. Shit. Shit. So, this is it, then. You tense in Joel's arms, waiting to get called out as the slutty girl who seduced her ex away from his date. Hell, they're not even wrong. You can feel his cum dribbling out of you, and can't help but think maybe you'd deserve it.
From where you're standing, you recognize each and every one of their faces under the string lights, and you know damn well that none of them can keep their mouths shut. Except...wait a second. They're still glancing back and forth between you and Joel in the shadows and each other. 
Oh. The fucking shadows. None of them can see shit. They have no clue who the hell they're looking at. Joel must've caught on around the same time you did, because now he's backing up, putting more distance between you and the looming crowd. Before they can get any closer, one of the younger guys cuts in front to block their path.
“C’mon, it's probably a couple’a teenagers. Just let ‘em be," he drawls, glancing back at you. Your eyes lock, and you're suddenly so grateful, you could cry. It's Jesse. He shoots you a wink before turning back to the group, shaking his head in mock admonishment. "Don't act like y'all weren't doin' the same damn thing at their age."
By some miracle, it fucking works. They all laugh in agreement, appeased by Jesse's quick thinking. One by one, they follow each other out of the alley and back onto the road to continue their original path home. Jesse lingers. 
"Glad y'all figured things out," he calls out over his shoulder, giving you privacy to tug your shirt back up. He clears his throat awkwardly before continuing, "Look, I, uh...distracted as many people as I could from comin' over here, but if y'all were gonna be that loud, maybe you should'a figured things out at home."
Jesse shakes his head again, chuckling to himself as he shoves his hands into his pockets.
"Anyway, y'all have a good night, now. Get home safe."
As he jogs away to catch up with the rest of the group, you start to laugh, too. You can’t help it. It feels cathartic, relieving some of the tension of this overly eventful night.
Joel’s body begins to shake behind you, his chest rumbling with what you realize is deep-bellied laughter. It gradually increases in volume as it melds seamlessly with yours; transitory, white clouds of condensation that intertwine, then dissipate.
You feel him slip out as he starts to soften, and then he turns you to face him, carefully crowding you into the wall. He kisses you again, this time slow and deliberate like you asked him to earlier. His tongue meets yours, gasps exchanged and treasured like you have all the time in the world. 
When he parts from you, it feels reluctant, but he stays close, whispering his next words against your lips.
“M’gonna get ya cleaned up, alright?” he mumbles, dropping his arm from around your waist to run his fingers up the cum leaking down your thighs. You shiver as they continue up, slipping his release back inside you. “Don’t…,” he continues, squeezing his eyes shut as his forehead drops to yours, “…just—don’t go anywhere. Please. I’ll be right back.”
Maybe he’s trying to protect himself from the response he anticipates you’ll give him, but that seems silly after everything you’ve been through tonight. You cup his cheek and thumb the coarse, trimmed hairs of his beard, willing him to open his eyes. He does, hesitantly, one then the other, and you offer him a soft smile.
“I’m not going anywhere, Joel.”
An intoxicating breath fans across your face, and the taut muscles in his neck and shoulders loosen. His lips match the soft quirk of your own and, then, brush fleetingly against your cheekbone as he backs away and disappears through a metal side door you didn't notice before. The moment it clicks shut, you slump against the wall. 
Christ. Your mind is simultaneously blank and racing a mile a minute. Taking a deep breath, you let your head thunk into solid, grounding brick while you wait for even a single coherent thought to take root. What now? What happens next? 
There's no coming back from tonight. You both made choices you'll have to answer for, but, for some reason, that doesn't seem so scary anymore. The clock is ticking, but there's time. Plenty of it.
You're still lost in your reverie when Joel gets back with a thick wad of damp paper towels. You snort at the idea of him suddenly appearing in Seth's kitchen and having to explain himself, but maybe the racket you kicked up right outside his door was explanation enough.
"Seth didn't give you any shit for stealing his stuff?" you ask as Joel drops to his knees and coaxes one of your legs over his shoulder.
The cold air has already started to leach the warmth from the paper towels, and they feel cool as he slides them along your soiled skin. He huffs out a laugh.
"Nah, the kitchen was empty. Think they're startin' to close up for the night." 
When he finishes your first thigh, he surprises you by leaning in to press a soft kiss against your freshly cleaned skin. He nips at you teasingly before starting on the next one.
You hum in response, threading your fingers through his hair and watching fondly as he pays careful attention to his task. He continues to wipe away his drying release, trailing his lips down your thigh as he goes, until he finishes at your knee.
He gazes up at you with a charmingly crooked grin, and that’s when it finally slips out. The single coherent thought you’ve been waiting for.
“I love you, Joel,” you murmur, brushing your fingertips across his cheek. 
His smile falters. Then, it drops completely and your heart shatters. You don’t understand. But that—no. No, it doesn’t make any fucking sense. After everything that’s happened, how could you have been wrong again?
Joel sighs, grimacing as he slowly gets back up. He braces himself on one knee, clearly aching more than he's letting on, but when you reach down to offer him a hand, he refuses your help.
“S’fine, I got it. Just…,” he gestures to your jeans, still hanging loosely around your knees. You pull them up, fighting not to feel humiliated as he rises to his full height. 
You search his eyes for…something. Anything. Any indication of what he’s feeling right now, but they’re blank. Cold and distant, just like they were the night he left you. 
No. He doesn’t get to do this to you again. Not after everything you’ve been through. Not without an explanation. Not if he doesn’t want to lose you forever.
“Tell me why you broke up with me."
For a long time, you genuinely believed you could live without knowing the truth, but somewhere along the line, it began to eat away at you. Now, you want the real reason. He owes you that, at the very least.
You wait while he either works himself up to it or tries to figure out what bullshit to tell you this time. Once his hands settle on his hips, you know with absolute certainty it's the latter.
“Darlin’…,” he starts wearily, but you shoot him a look that stops him in his tracks. He doesn't get to call you that right now, and he knows it. Pausing, he nods grimly before beginning again. "We already talked about this. I’m no good for ya. It was only a matter of time before ya woke up one day and realized it for yourself.”
There it is. That same bullshit reason. You scoff bitterly, not surprised in the slightest.
“What the fuck does that even mean, Joel? We were together for years. If that was gonna happen, don’t you think it would’ve already?" you counter angrily. 
You're trying not to get emotional. This can't be a repeat of what happened last time, but it's dragging up too many painful memories. It's always the same fight. You can't do this anymore.
"You know what? Fuck you," you seethe as your self-control slips completely. "Fuck you for making that decision for me. You had no right."
At your words, his face crumples and he has the nerve to look ashamed. Maybe even a little hurt. His pained expression makes your heart ache, yet a nastier part of you believes it's only fair that he feels this way, too. He sighs, his eyes dropping wistfully to his feet.
“I did what I thought was best," he mumbles quietly as if he doesn't want to be heard. It's hard for him to say this out loud, and you realize it's because he's finally telling you the truth. "I just…I thought you’d be happier with someone else, someone who could give ya a family. Kids. I gave you up so you could have the life ya always wanted."
You eye him incredulously. The life you always wanted? Sure, you and Joel had toyed with the idea of having a family once upon a time, but that was never a dealbreaker. He should've known that. He should've brought it up before deciding to destroy your life together over an idealized fantasy.
“Oh, here we go. Joel, the fucking savior. Mr. Fix-It, swooping in to save everyone and solve every problem," you hurl back venomously. But it was a cruel thing to say, and you immediately hate yourself for it.
Rationally, you know his intentions were kind. He probably even thought he was being selfless. But he hurt you, and, through your tunnel vision, that's all you can see. You push yourself off the wall, stalking closer to where he stands, still refusing to look at you.
"So what, you thought you’d dump me and I’d immediately shack up with some other asshole? Is that really what you think of me?”
His eyes shoot up to yours and his fingers begin to tap restlessly at his sides. Now, you've pissed him off. 
“Don't go puttin’ words in my mouth. That ain’t true and you fuckin��� know it," he all but growls, his body shaking with a turbulent combination of frustration and adrenaline.
You're starting to feel it, too. This conversation is overwhelming both of you, but he still hasn't told you everything. There's a piece missing, keeping all of his disjointed reasonings from adding up. He's holding back and it's time for him to stop.
“Then what is, Joel?" you plead with him to give you a definitive answer. One that finally explains why you had to lose everything. Ellie, your home. The love of your life. "What’s the truth?"
Then, everything he's kept bottled up inside and allowed to poison his happiness claws its way out as a single, unwavering statement. 
“I’m too fuckin’ old for you!”
The silence that follows his admission is deafening. You watch in shock as he runs a hand through his hair in frustration. He's never yelled like that before or looked so defeated. By something as innocuous as his age. 
It isn't something you'd ever considered, not before your relationship and never once during. But he did. His bottom lip starts to tremble as he turns and takes a few steps away from you.
“Every day, I’d watch ya…offerin’ to take more shifts, spendin’ time at the school with Ellie and the kids," he says softly, shaking his head as he works through his next words. "And every day, I’d feel it. My body givin’ out on me, more and more. My blood pressure’s up, my goddamn knees are creakin’. Couldn’t even fuckin’ stand up on my own just now." 
When he turns back to you, his eyes are wet with unshed tears. He feels too far, but you know you can't go to him, yet. He's not finished.
"You can do better than that. You deserve better than that," his voice cracks and your whole world blurs into a wash of colors. “You’re gonna outlive me by a mile. I’m an old man, darlin’. It wasn’t fair for me to keep ya.”
For a while, you just watch each other. Tears overflow and continuously spill down his cheeks and yours, but neither of you moves to wipe them away. 
None of this is fair. You're both miserable and heartbroken, perpetually yearning for a love you've told yourselves you can't have. Months ago, Joel made a choice for both of you. You won't make the same mistake he did.
"I didn't want fair, Joel. I wanted you. A life with you...," your face screws up as you fight back a sob, "...the rest of my life with you, however long that is."
Joel takes a tentative step forward, carefully reaching out to touch you, but stops himself before he can get too close. He looks afraid...of you. Scared of the consequences of allowing you back into his heart. 
A sob escapes your chest, then, and you wrap your arms around yourself, suddenly bitterly cold and wanting nothing more than for Joel to hold you. To tell you for the first time since the breakup that he loves you and, regardless of time, won't ever stop.
So, you cross the alleyway and cup his wet cheeks in your hands, wiping away his sadness and, hopefully, his fears. He melts into the poignant familiarity of your touch and it makes you brave. This time, you'll be brave enough for both of you.
"Don't I deserve that?" you whisper, close enough to share his next breath. He watches your lips, hanging onto your every word. "Don't you?" 
His eyes meet yours, and it finally happens. The moment Joel gives in and decides to let himself be happy. He nods slowly in your grasp, reaching up to cradle your hand on his cheek. 
"Dunno what I deserve, darlin'. Not after the things I've done and the hurt I put ya through. But if I'm...if this is really what ya want...," he hesitates, his voice thick with tears and, yet, still that full-bodied, twang that sounds like home. "I'm yours. 'Til my last breath, I'm yours."
He kisses you before either of you can start crying again, and it's all there. The love he kept under lock and key to protect you, released from the prison of his own making.
His kiss feels different again. There's no hunger or rush, and the possessiveness—the need to devour everything you have to give so there's nothing left for anyone else—is gone. He's sure, now, that there's no one else you'd rather give yourself to.
His arms circle your waist and he pulls you closer, crushing you into time-worn chambray and sullied denim as you continue to explore each other like a pair of horny teenagers. Two lovers learning to give and take for the first time. Time passes slowly in this space you've carved out for yourselves, even as the moon continues to rise in the night sky and floods the corridor with light. 
Then, noisily and as if right on cue, the last-call crowd stumbles from the bar and immediately catches what the previous group missed. You and Joel separate, dazed but unhurried, to find that it's them. 
It has to be fucking kismet that, of everyone in Jackson, the first to witness your reconciliation would be the biggest blabbermouths in the entire town. The same women who talked shit about you every day for months and constantly vied for Joel's attention, standing there with wide eyes and slack jaws.
Their varied expressions almost make you want to laugh, and you can't help but snort unattractively into Joel's shoulder. Half of them are glaring at you, and the rest look either devastated or genuinely surprised. Guess you were better at hiding your arrangement than you thought, not that it matters anymore. It's a relationship again, and everyone's about to know all about it. Joel clears his throat, drawing their attention back to him.
"Evenin', ladies. S'there somethin' we can help ya with?" he drawls, breaking out the Southern charm that endeared every single one of them to him in the first place.
They all shake their heads, looking a little too pleased with themselves once the initial shock wears off and they realize you've just given them the gossip of the century. After a few fake, high-pitched pleasantries, they slink away as quickly as they came, already chatting to themselves about some shit you'll definitely hear tomorrow at breakfast. You watch them go, feeling oddly liberated.
"Guess the cat's outta the bag, huh?" You wrap your arms loosely around his neck, still chuckling softly to yourself. Joel huffs out a laugh, too, bending down to kiss the crown of your head before nodding in agreement.
"'Fraid so," he muses, amusement and a hint of something lighter glinting in his eyes. 
You haven't seen him this relaxed in a long time. As he holds you in his arms, he leans a fraction of his weight on you to ease the night's strain on his back and knees, and it makes you feel needed. Relied on. That's new, Joel depending on you like this. Things are going to be different this time around, you can tell. They already are. 
You hum, ruminating on what awaits you after your first night back in your own bed, in your own home. What everyone will think and say—to your face and behind your back—when they find out you're back together. Though, the only opinions you give a shit about are Ellie, Tommy, and Maria's, anyway.
So, yeah, you're a lot of things right now: exhausted, yet relieved and so full of hope. But you're not afraid, the cat and the bag be damned.
"I'm not," you tell him honestly as you pull away. You let your hands trail from his shoulders, down his arms, until his hands are in yours. 
Tugging gently, you walk him backward out of the alley, away from the bar and plummeting winter chill, and any lingering, prying eyes. Even the moon and stars have no stake in what comes next. This moment, right here and now, belongs to you and Joel, alone.
"Take me home, Joel."
The light in his eyes burns brighter, amusement giving way to adoration and contentment. He's been waiting for this, to be given the privilege of keeping you safe and taking care of you the way he needs to—it's how he shows love. 
He slots his fingers between yours and leads you down the empty streets of Jackson. 
"Darlin', nothin' would make me happier."
thanks for reading!
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eddiemunsonswhxre · 2 years
Text
dirty, dirty girl / eddie munson
one shot
rated: m (18+, minors DNI)
cw (buckle up): smut w/ fluffy ending, cursing, daddy!kink, master!kink, petnames (kitten, babygirl, etc), lingerie, oral (m&f), face fucking, cum eating/cum play, orgasm denial, overstimulation/multiple orgasms, hickies, biting, little bit og blood, spanking, squirting, unprotected sex, spit kink, breeding kink, slight bondage (belt as handcuffs), rough dom!eddie, sub!reader, fem!reader, praise, degradation, aftercare (i think that's it but i could be wrong)
this is over 8k words... enjoy you filthy people.
you were tired of your boyfriend only seeing you as cute and innocent. so for his birthday, you kicked things up a notch.
--
“robin, you’re sure?” you ask, nervously tapping your toe as you stand in the checkout line. robin rolls her eyes, shoving the lingerie into your grasp.
once she makes sure you’ve took hold she cross her arms. “as your only lesbian friend, i can assure you i’m sure you will look insanely hot in this. eddie is going to blow his load in his pants at the sight of you,” robin reassures with a smile. 
you sigh, nervously rubbing the thin lace between your fingers. “and the colors okay?” you ask insecurely.
robin nods, grabbing your shoulder. “black is sexy on everyone, y/n, plus the one we chose is particularly… out there? hot? so i don’t think color would matter anyway. but i mean, it is eddie, isn’t his favorite color black?” robin says.
“red, actually. but all their red options were too bright for what he likes,” you say and shrug. now you were next in line. robin gives you one last reassuring squeeze on the shoulder before you place the three piece set on the victoria’s secret counter. “you said we can get stockings at jcpenney, right?” you ask robin who nods. you pay for the pricey undergarments before you and robin head to get the rest of eddie’s birthday gifts.
a few days later and it’s eddie’s twenty-first birthday. luckily, he decided against getting super drunk that day and spent it with all of your guy’s combined friends. he knew he didn’t have to but he was more than excited for some good birthday sex and wanted to remember it all. 
the thing about you and eddie’s relationship was that even though you’d been together for about a year now, he still refused to get too rough with you during sex. he’d told you many times you were too innocent and he didn’t want to ruin that or go too far. but you knew he was holding back, and you were pretty damn tired of him treating you like a feather in the bedroom. he barely let you ride him it was that bad. 
he closed the door to your new apartment and immediately you were slammed against it as he pulled you in for a passionate kiss. you let it go for a minute before interrupting. “wait, i have a gift for you,” you say, stroking his cheek.
eddie gives you a goofy smile, his childish side showing through. “but, babygirl, you already gave me my presents,” he says in slight confusion. you shake your head no and give him a nervous smile.
“i have one more,” you mutter and grab his hand, leading him to your couch. “sit here and wait. i need a couple minutes,” you push him down on the couch. you smooth down his hair, admiring his excited smile and placing a kiss on his forehead. eddie waits pretty impatiently as it takes you a whole five minutes to get whatever it was that his gift was. he swears to god if it’s an animal after he’d told you no…
meanwhile you tried psyching yourself up as you slid your jeans back on over the lingerie. this was quite nerve wracking for you, but it was something you knew eddie was going to love. you pulled your shirt back on over your head and took a deep breath. you didn’t look any different except your socked feet were now engulfed by dark black thigh highs instead. you recalled robin’s words from this morning, telling you to just dance and feel yourself how you would if you were in your room alone. so, here goes nothing.
eddie whipped around at the sound of your bedroom door opening and furrowed his brows when he saw nothing in your hands. he watched you expectantly as you walked towards the record player. “baby, i’m confused,” he states, watching as you picked out the record he had recently been oodly obsessed with. 
you chew on your lip as you set it up. “you can’t make fun of me,” you mumble, turning up the volume so the track would play loudly. 
“i would never, but what is this-” he’s cut off by the opening words of pour some sugar on me by def leppard filling your guy’s home. he watches as you turn and nervously walk towards him as the instrumental begins. “babe?” he questions. you screw your eyes shut and shake your head. 
“shut up,” you mumble as you try to transport yourself back to your childhood bedroom, dancing around your room as if you could ever be as confident as the strippers in the movies. you pretend eddie isn’t even there and begin to let your hips move to the music, easing into it.
eddie watches you curiously, not understanding what was going on. he watches your hips carefully and then your hands as you begin sliding them up your body sensually. “oh my god,” eddie mumbles, eyes popping out of his head as he realizes what you’re doing. your hands grope at your own breasts as you try and move your hips more harshly to the beat and eddie feels his mouth fall open in shock. your hands travel down, sliding over your stomach and towards your core as eddie wishes your hands were his own. you don’t know how slow or fast you’re supposed to take this, but you know you're anxious to see eddie’s reaction to your lingerie. 
you let your hands drag your shirt up, revealing the black lace of the garter belt you’re wearing before letting it fall again. eddie gaps at you, and you finally find the courage to open your eyes and glance at him. he was sat with his knees apart, elbows resting on his thighs as his full attention was on every small movement of your body. you feel a burst of confidence as you pull your shirt all the way up to right under your breasts, shimmying your hips and dropping down a little bit. he sucks in a breath, embarrassed to be already getting hard. after teasing your shirt, you finally pull it off and throw it to the side. “holy fuck,” eddie grunts, you smirking at him as you start to run your hands over the exposed lace.
you start at the shoulders, running your fingers down the strap until it divides into two, showing the open expanse of the tops of your tits. you trail your fingers over the top of the lace cup that begins right above your nipples, letting them fall to circle your hardening nipples a few times. your soft touch traces the under wire, emphasizing your boobs even more to him before your fingers flutter over the frayed edges. you turn in a slow circle, using a swivel of your hips to stick your ass out towards him as your hands caress it. “god, y/n, you’re so fucking hot,” eddie comments, feeling like he could start drooling. you laugh at him, feeling fully relaxed and really confident in your body.
your fingertips ghost along the waistline of your jeans before dipping under. “you haven’t seen it all,” you say flirtatiously, popping the button of your jeans. eddie groans at the tone of your voice, feeling a rush of blood go to his dick. he didn’t know where this behavior was coming from, but he wasn’t complaining. he eyes the garter belt as you reveal more of it, slowly pushing down your jeans. a small expanse of your stomach is shown along with little silver rings holding together the pieces and then he sees the top of your underwear. he lets out a guttural groan at the fact he can see your freshly shaven pussy through the mesh and lace of the underwear. you smile mischievously at him as you slide them down further, showing to him where the garter belt connects to your black thigh high stockings. 
you kick the jeans to the side, running your fingers up and down your sides as you move your hips sensually. eddie’s bottom lip is stuck between his teeth as you begin to turn, a moan leaving his lips as he sees it's a thong you’re wearing. he’d never seen you wear one of those before. when you turn back to him he holds up his hand. “pause, i need a closer look,” he says, his eyes dark and full of desire. you stand patiently waiting for him as he stands and begins walking towards you.
you eye his bulge and feel a strike of pride run through you. “did i make you hard? daddy?” you ask innocently, causing eddie to stop in his tracks. his mouth goes dry and he blinks a couple times. 
“what did you just call me?” he asks, voice hoarse. 
you shrug, fighting back a big smile. “daddy? is that okay? or would you rather me call you master?” you ask and eddie’s eyes flutter shut. “oh, so master?” you tease.
he takes a deep breath, in through his nose and out through his mouth before beginning to stalk towards you. “both do the job,” he mutters, beginning to circle you as if he was a lion and you were a poor, helpless gazel. he closely inspects every strap, design, and location of the lingerie as he gets to your back side. he squats down, grabbing your ass cheeks in his hands without warning. you smile, figuring he hasn’t yet realized one of the most important parts. you shuffle your feet farther apart and then bend down slowly. eddie gasps as his eyes come in contact with your bare cunt. your thong was crotchless. “fuck, kitten, are you trying to kill me?” he asks, massaging your ass in his big palms as he thinks about leaning forward and licking your awaiting pussy. 
you giggle innocently and stand back up. “it’s so you can fuck me in it,” you say as if it were the most normal thing in the world. eddie feels as though he could ascend straight to heaven right then and there. “go sit, i’m not done,” you say, turning to face him. he looks up at you for a moment before standing. he wanted to go full dom on you so bad, but he’d never done that before. he was afraid of corrupting you, or scaring you with how rough he wanted to be. but how you were acting right now made him think maybe you wanted it.
he goes back to his seat on the couch, trying to ignore the pain he was feeling as his cock strained against his pants. you dance around the living room a bit more before making your way over to him. you rest your hands on his shoulders, rolling your own as you press your breasts closer to his face. he sucks in a breath and then you’re turning, squatting down to rub your ass along his lap. you sway with the music still before pushing yourself forward, holding his knees for support as you dipped up and down, sticking your ass out to him and shaking it once in a while. eddie kept quiet, drinking you in as he thought. he’d never seen this side of you, he didn’t even know it existed. 
when you turned back to face him you poked his shoulder, causing him to place his hands behind him so you could crawl on his lap. “babygirl, do you know how sinful you look right now? fuck, you’re the hottest thing i’ve ever seen.” he tells you, one hand grabbing your hip and stroking his thumb over the exposed skin. he tried his best to ignore the fact that your bare pussy was hovering over him, but you made that impossible when you dropped to grind on him. you tangled your hands in his hair for support as you swivel your hips and grinded against his jean covered dick. 
“do you like your birthday present so far, eds?” you ask, pulling his hair to get him to look at your eyes for a moment and not your body. 
so many things came to his mind as he hissed in slight pain from his scalp. “so far?” he questioned, digging his thumb into the soft skin of your hip. you moaned, causing eddie to rub harsh circles.
“you gotta fuck me still,” you comment, one hand traveling to his chin to turn it to the side. eddie sat up a bit, bringing his other hand to rest on the back of your head as you began pressing kisses to and nipping at his throat. 
he closes his eyes, feeling hornier than a virgin watching porn for the first time. “you did all this for me? i didn’t even know you liked this type of stuff, kitten,” he observes, massaging your scalp slightly. 
you hummed against his throat, still sucking a love bite into it. “you never asked,” you mumbled into his skin before moving to the other side to start another hickey. eddie frowns slightly at that, and pulls you away from his neck.
“well, what do you like?” he asks.
you shake your head no and run your hands up and down his chest. “i don’t know for sure yet. but it’s your birthday, and i want to do what you like. i know you hold back all the time, but i want you to let go this time. go full out, please, i want it,” you say, staring in his eyes.
eddie closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. “babygirl, my full out may be too much for you,” he says, rubbing your back.
you shrug and lean back in to suck another bruise into his neck. “we don’t know until we try,” you say as the last beats of the song fade out behind you. 
“you’re sure?” eddie asks hesitantly.
you pull back to look into his eyes, hoping it motivates him enough. “yes, master. i’m sure i want you to fuck me and be rough and not hold back. i want it so bad,” you say and eddie lets out an involuntary groan.
he purses his lips and takes another breath. “you have no idea what you’re getting into, i could hurt you,” he says.
you shrug, grabbing a piece of his hair and twirling it around your finger. “maybe i want to get hurt,” you say and eddie looks at you sternly. “what if we have a safeword? you go all out, and if it gets too much for me i’ll say it so we can stop and figure out what went wrong. that make you feel better?” you question. eddie debates in his head for a moment and then nods. 
“apple, say apple if it gets to be too much,” he confirms and you nod. 
you lean down, eddie tipping his head back as you bite into his throat. he strokes your hair as you do so, thinking of all the things he could do to you. when you pulled away he looked at you with hunger in his eyes. “do you wanna do this out here… or should we go to our room?” you asked, hoping he would chose the bedroom. 
he pushed himself off the couch, causing you to squeal and cling to him as he carried you to your room. he threw you on the bed roughly causing you to gasp in surprise. “you want no filter right? anything i want?” he asks in an almost angry sounding voice. he pulls off his leather jacket, throwing it down before going for his shirt. you nod, moving your thighs together as you feel yourself becoming wet enough for it to leak to your inner thighs. he chuckles darkly as he undoes his belt and button, shaking his head and pushing his jeans off. as usual, he didn’t have any underwear on. 
he crawls on the bed and hovers over you. “guess it’s time we go over some rules, yeah?” he asks, pushing some hair behind your ear. he watches your wide eyes look at him expectantly. “oh god, you have no idea how long i’ve been thinking these out for you,” he huffs, in awe that this was actually happening. he leaned down, finally pressing his lips to yours once more. he holds himself up on his fists as your fingers find their way to his hair.
you moan into his mouth as he slides his tongue across your bottom lip, opening your mouth. your tongues fight around each other, small moans leaving each of you. eddie finally pulls away causing you to sigh. “rule one, only refer to me as master. or daddy, if you like that,” he says, kissing your forehead. “two, don’t cum until i say so,” he murmurs, kissing your cheek. “three, do as you’re told, always,” and he’s kissing your other cheek. “four, no complaining. because master is being so nice to pleasure you,” his voice now getting lower and he also lowers himself to kiss your jaw. “five, no touching yourself unless i tell you to. that’s what i’m here for,” he kisses just above your breasts. you let out a shaky moan as his fingers begin trailing along the side of your thigh. “six, always use your words and make noise. daddy wants to hear how good he makes you feel,” his lips kissing on your stomach. “and seven, know you’ll have to accept whatever punishment i give you if you disobey,” he finishes, kissing the top of your mound that was covered by mesh. “you understand?” he asks, leveling his face with your pussy and stroking your thigh comfortingly. 
you nod, taking a deep breath. eddie raises his brows, no way you’d forgotten already. he digs his nails into your thigh, pinching it hard enough to make you yelp in pain. “y-yes, master,” you say shakily, spreading your legs for him as you realize you enjoyed the pain. 
eddie gives you an evil smirk before responding with, “there you go, kitten.” then, he’s diving down and going straight for your clit, not easing you into it at all. you gasp, head falling back as his lips wrap around your clit and suck it into his mouth. eddie had eaten you out a multitude of times, but he was always so slow and gentle. this new way had you melting though, you were going to get addicted. 
he loves how you’re reacting, basically making out with your soaked clit. “so wet for me,” he mumbles before diving back in and flicking his tongue through your folds. you hum, muscles clenching at how good he was making you feel. “you taste like heaven,” he says, pulling back to blow on your clit and watch you twitch. he chuckles, licking a strip over your clit and blowing on it again, causing you to spasm. “ironic, for such a dirty, dirty girl to taste so heavenly,” he smirks, watching you whine.
“master, please,” you huff, reaching for him.
“ah-ah, kitten, hands down. now, what are you pathetically begging for?” he asks, licking your clit quickly. 
you squirm at his short, spaced out licks as he waits for you to talk. “please don’t make me say it,” you whine, embarrassment flooding your features.
eddie hums in disapproval, pulling back slightly. “isn’t using your words a rule, babygirl?” he taunts. 
you huff, gathering your bearings before looking up to make eye contact with him. “make me cum… on your tongue, master, please,” you whine, your face heating up in embarrassment.
eddie’s eyes sparkle at you using such a vulgar phrase. “awe, babygirl wants me to eat her pussy until she cums, huh?” he teases, resituating himself.
you nod desperately, gripping the sheets in your fists. “yes, daddy, please,” you gasp as eddie latches on to your pussy once again. he scoots down, grabbing your legs and hooking them over his shoulders to get a better angle. he begins teasing your entrance with his tongue, loving the way your squirm underneath him. your hips buck towards him, a whimper leaving your lips. 
eddie gives in, beginning to fuck you with his tongue as your clit is nestled against his nose. his eyes travel up to watch you, his eyes practically forming hearts as he watches your lingerie clad breasts heave with each breath. he loves the way you taste, so sweet and musky. he’d bathe in your slick all day if he could. he let out a groan into your pussy, rutting his cock against the mattress as your moans begin increasing. he’s fucked you enough times to know when you’re about to cum. but, this time wasn’t exactly going to be the same. he removes his tongue from your hole, moving to focus completely on your clit again, knowing that’s what finishes you off. 
“i’m gonna cum, master, fuck,” you whine as he laps at the left side of your clit since it was more sensitive. eddie picks up his pace, smirk on his face due to his plans. he sucks, and your legs begin to shake. as he hears the telltale breathy moans, he pulls away, right before you fall off the edge. you let out a cry, trying to pull your legs up to get more friction but eddie holds them tightly in place. “master, no, please,” you cry, feeling your clit throb at the sudden loss of stimulation. 
eddie laughs as you squirm, holding you in a vice grip until you stop moving. “see what happens to bad girls who don’t follow rules?” eddie asks when you flop on the bed in defeat. you whimper, grasping the sheets in discomfort. “awe, pretty girl. look at you,” eddie coos, letting up on your legs. 
you look at him with a pouted lip. “m’sorry master,” you mumble and eddie grunts, his hips involuntarily rutting against the mattress again. 
“mhm, i’m sure you are,” he tutted, digging his nails into your thighs. “you learn your lesson, kitten?” he asks, snaking a hand around to stroke your clit gently. 
your mouth dropped open in a silent moan. “yes, master, mm, learned my lesson,” you mumble, hips rolling against his fingers. he removes his hand, using it to deliver a slap to your clit instead. you yelp, causing eddie to smirk.
“don’t be greedy. i’ll let you cum when i want to,” he lectures and you let out a noise of discontent. eddie smiles, ready to edge you once more. he sinks two fingers into you without warning, his cold rings a sharp contrast to your burning skin. he begins pumping them in and out of your inviting walls, watching you squirm. he watched closely as some of your arousal leaked out of you and dripped slowly down the swell of your ass and onto your shared bed. he moved up your body, kissing along as much exposed skin as he could, fingers from his other hand snapping straps and dipping under them. “you look so pretty in this. can’t believe my sweet, innocent baby got all dolled up to look like a whore for me,” he cooed mockingly causing you to whimper. “you have no idea how many times i’ve thought about doing this to you. tying you up, torturing you a little bit, seeing just how much you’ll let me do to your pretty little cunt before you start to cry,” eddie says, stroking your cheek bone as his fingers curl inside of you. 
“daddy,” you whisper desperately.
eddie hums, “yes, kitten?” you close your eyes as eddie’s fingers hit that special spot inside of you. 
eddie knows what he’s doing, and fuck is he loving it. “can i cum this time?” you ask in a shaky voice, eyes meeting his.
the smirk that covers his face is a cruel one, and it makes your body shudder with arousal. “i haven’t decided yet,” he comments casually, before leaning down to nuzzle his face his your neck. 
he starts with slow, sweet kisses to your neck that match the agonizing pace of his fingers, drawing moans from you as your high builds again. then out of nowhere, he bites down on the juncture of your neck and shoulder, hard. your hand flies up to the back of his head as you let out a small scream of pain and tears prickle your eyes. you hated to admit that it only made the knot in your pussy tighter. eddie ran his tongue over the bite mark, soothing it. your hand was wrapped in his hair as he kissed it better. but, he wasn’t so sweet. he moved to the other side of your neck, kissing and sucking before sinking his teeth into the middle of your shoulder. 
you let out pained gasp, fist pulling eddie’s hair until he releases his teeth. he pulls back slightly to admire the small red droplets forming in the place of his teeth. he picks up the pace of his fingers before licking the crimson blood, moaning as the metallic taste flooded his mouth. you moaned in pleasure, your walls clamping around him as your orgasm built sweetly. eddie twisted his hand so his thumb could apply pressure to your clit. “master,” you gasp as eddie continues kissing your neck, your eyes screwing shut. you clenched around him, thighs beginning to tremble. you really thought he was gonna let you cum that time, really you did.
but he pulled his mouth and fingers away from you, sitting back to watch you squirm. “no,” you cried, a couple tears falling from your eyes. eddie smiles, leaning forward slightly to watch your tear filled eyes. 
“kitten, you cried faster than i thought,” he observed, using his thumb to swipe the salty drop away. you whimpered, trying to clamp your legs together but you couldn’t. “mm, poor thing. i promise you can cum next time,” he coos, wiping stray hairs from your face. too bad you still didn’t know what he had in store for you. he gets off the bed and starts looking around on the floor.
“wh-what are you doing, master?” you ask, pushing yourself up on shaky arms. eddie hums in delight at your words and how adorable you looked as your body still trembled. 
eddie picks up his jeans, beginning to pull the belt from the loops. he gives you an evil smile. “well, i did say i was gonna tie you up, didn’t i?” he raises his brows. you gulp, looking from him to his belt as he comes to the side of the bed. “get up on your knees and give me your wrists, babygirl,” he says. you comply quickly, scrambling onto your knees, wincing as you feel the wetness from your pussy dripping out of you. “such a good girl,” he coos, stroking your face and placing a kiss on your forehead. 
he begins weaving his belt through itself before sliding it onto your wrists and pulling it tight. the leather bites into your skin as he makes sure it’s as tight as it can be. he guides you to maneuver to the headboard. you’re sat against it, looking at him with big eyes as he straddles you. “pretty girl, let me fuck that tight mouth of yours,” he says, causing you to bite your lip. he guides you to scoot down a bit, your back in a horribly uncomfortable position as he lines his cock up with you mouth. “if it gets too much, hit me in the thigh a couple times and i’ll stop, okay?” he explains with serious eyes. you nod, only for him to give you a stern look. 
“yes, master,” you say, earning a nod of approval and then the head of his cock is pushing open your lips. he slowly sinks into your warm mouth, head falling back as he does. he goes until his hits the back of your throat, causing you to gag. he pulls back a little, only to start slow thrusts into you mouth. 
he grabs your head with his hands, using the leverage to push his cock deeper into your throat. he feels your throat flutter around him and he looks down. he wants to bust at the sight of you, watering eyes and mouth full of cock. “take it, kitten,” he groans, drawing back his hips just to slam himself back into you. you whine around his cock, a tear falling from your right eye. eddie smiles at you, sinking you down slowly until your eyes widen in panic and you begin to choke. he pulls out immediately and strokes your chin. “you gotta relax, relax and just take it for me. you wanna make daddy feel good, right? that’s why you got dressed up like a whore, right? was for master to treat you like one for his birthday?” he questioned, but you could see in his eyes this was also him waiting for you to use your safeword. you took a deep breath and nodded, opening your mouth again for him. “good girl, kitten. my good little slut,” he says proudly, using his hand to guide himself into your mouth again. 
he lets you adjust once more, but then he’s fucking into your mouth as if he doesn’t care you’re a person and not just a hole. he bites so hard on his bottom lip he’s drawing blood as he watches your face. spit was beginning to dribble down your chin and tears were continuously falling from your eyes as you deepthroated him, gaging every other thrust. he pulled you roughly down on him, chasing his release. “fuck, getting so close,” he grunted, your eyes trained on the drop of blood falling from his lip. “gonna cum in your mouth, yeah kitten, be good and swallow your master’s cum,” he says between heavy breaths. you moan around him and then his hips are faltering. 
eddie’s head falls back as he cums, thick ropes shooting in your mouth and down your throat. he leaves his cock in your mouth until he comes down. “let daddy see his cum,” he says as he slides his dick from your mouth. you open your mouth, showing him how much cum sat on your tongue. he grunts dropping down to connect his mouth to yours. you both moan at the mixed tastes of cum and blood filling your mouth. the salty and metallic taste causing your brain to short circuit. you knew you were so turned on that a wet patch had formed on your duvet, and you wanted so badly to have a release. “swallow,” eddie commands once he pulls back and you do as told. eddie takes a moment to collect himself and then he’s hauling you up and flipping you over.
you let out a noise of surprise as your face comes in contact with your blankets and eddie grabs you hips. “get your ass up, babygirl, yep, on your knees, good girl,” he says, dragging out the last two words. “daddy needs a minute to just look at you like this,” he hums, grabbing your ass and massaging it harshly. you whimper, your head turned to the side. he drags his hands up your back, slipping under the lingerie and feathering his touch over the lacy material. he even moves down to your thighs that are covered in stockings and rubs them. he admires your frame, wishing he knew where the camera was so he could take a picture. next time. 
his hand travels back to your ass, rubbing it before his hand pulls away just to come striking back down. you let out a moan at the pain, eddie watching in awe as arousal drips from your heat. “you dirty slut,” he comments, spanking you again. you stick your ass out to him, wanting more contact. your hands grabbed fistfulls of the blankets under you as you tried to control yourself. eddie played with you a bit more before sinking his fingers back into your awaiting cunt. he groans at the squelching noise as you suck his fingers in you. “this time, you can cum,” he says, placing a kiss on your reddened ass cheek and beginning to pump his fingers into you. 
a loud moan leaves your lips as he uses his other hand to rub your clit. he doesn’t ease into it, just hammers into you until you’re quite literally mewling in pleasure. “master,” you whimper and his fingers curl right against the spot you needed him most. “fuck, wanna cum, getting close,” you say, rocking back onto his fingers. “cum, kitten, cum for me,” he says, curling his fingers where he knows you need as his fingers continue abusing your clit. your walls flutter around him digits and you let out a moan. you feel the tower inside of you building and you’re almost to the top. “come on, pretty, master wants to watch you cum,” he says with gritted teeth and then the tower falls.
“fuck,” you yell, burying your face in your mattress as your thighs shake, knowing they would definitely allow you to collapse if eddie wasn’t holding you up. a small gush of slick pools from your pussy, coating eddie’s hand and dripping onto the bed. eddie finger fucks you through your high, but when you start to whine from overstimualtion he doesn’t stop. “daddy, t’hurts,” you mumble into the blankets.
eddie, however, doesn’t give a fuck what you say. “what’s that rule? you can only cum when i say so? well, i’m telling you now you’re cumming again,” he says harshly, causing you to whimper. he builds you up to your next high so fast and your whole body begins to tremble. “fucking whore, already gonna cum again? well, fuck, babygirl, cum for me, daddy needs to see how good he makes you feel,” he teases, holding his fingers against that special spot and moving them side to side ever so slightly, his movements on your clit never faltering. 
you’re screaming a mantra of daddy and master and eddie hasn’t even fucked you yet. he smiles as your body tenses, that expression changing to shock when you begin squirting all over his fingers. he takes his fingers from your pussy, continuing to rub your clit as he tries to catch some of your squirt in his mouth. your whole body falls limp as more drips from your pussy, a wet spot now decorating your duvet. 
  eddie strokes your clit as you come down from your high, and when you whimper he pulls away. you lay there, ass in the air as you feel numbness spread through your body. eddie pulls you up carefully, plastering your body to his. “what a good girl,” he coos, rubbing his hand soothingly over your stomach while pressing soft kisses to your neck. you slump against his chest, eyes closed as you try to catch your breath. “you did so good, kitten. so good for daddy. did you feel that last orgasm? you squirted, mhm, master got you all worked up, you squirted and made a big mess. so proud of you, kitten, did so so good for me,” eddie mutters praise in your ear, kissing your ear lobe and throat between sentences. 
  “m-master,” you say weakly, trying to force your eyes open.
  eddie admires you, leaving one arm around your waist to hold you up and the other comes to stroke your jaw. “yes, baby?” he hums.
  you finally get your eyes open and make eye contact with eddie. you take a deep breath, clenching your fists to try and regain some lucid thoughts. “you-you didn’t f-fuck me,” you stutter. eddie’s eyes darken as he grips you tighter.
  “was gonna be nice and give you a nice break. but, now i think i’ll take you right now. that okay, kitten? gonna let your master abuse that pretty little hole of yours?” he teases darkly, his cock hardening once again.
  your lip quivers, knowing this very well could send you overboard. but, the way your pussy clenched at the thought of being fucked told you all you needed to know about your limits. “anything you want, master,” you say, looking back at him. eddie grunts, placing his lips on yours in a heated, desperate kiss. you struggle to keep up, feeling like your body was jelly. 
  eddie disconnects his lips from yours and pushes you back down. you let out a weak yelp as his hand presses your back down hard. it kind of hurt, but then your mind was being clouded with the fact that his cock was slipping into your soaked entrance. the both of you let out moans as eddie sinks into you. “babygirl, you can hear me, yes?” eddie asks as he bottoms out.
  “yes, master,” you mumble, voice half muffled by the covers.
  eddie soothingly rubs his hands up and down your back as he bites his lip. he knew once he started fucking you he wouldn’t be able to stop. “this is gonna be really rough for you, okay? once i start, i don’t think i’m gonna stop until i cum. i don’t want to push you too much, so if you don’t think you can handle it, tell me now. there are many other ways i can cum without possibly hurting you,” he warns. you think it over for a minute before making a decision.
  “fuck me,” you grumble, using the last bits of your strength to move your hips forward and then slam back onto him.
  eddie feels something snap inside of him and then he’s slamming into you as if he’s gone feral. “good girl, good fucking girl,” he growls. literally, growls. and then slaps your ass harshly making you spasm. he presses your back down with one hand, the other holding your hip so he can slam into you at a brutal pace. “dirty fucking whore, look at you. my innocent baby is just like some goddamn street whore. fuck, had you all wrong, kitten. didn’t know you’d be so dirty. mmm, fuck, should’ve roughed you up months ago,” he continues grunting as he plows into you from behind. 
  tears are freely falling from your eyes as it hurts so good. your mouth is also open, drool creating a small wet patch on the blanket. your whole body feels on fire as one by one your coherent thoughts fade away. he was fucking you stupid, and you loved every moment of it. eddie was lost in the feeling of you, mesmerized by the way your velvet walls sucked his cock back in time after time. out of all the times he’s fucked you, it’s never been this good.
  he only came back to reality when you started whimpering and your walls fluttered around him. “gonna cum again, slut? yeah, go ahead, cum for your master,” he grunts and spanks you again. you tense and then your squirting again, all over his dick as your body shakes. eddie moans at the sensation. he pulls out, picking you up and forcefully flipping you over. drool was covering your face, your eyes were slightly rolled back and tears were pouring from them as broken moans and cries left your mouth.
  eddie re-entered you, grabbing your still bound hands and putting them above your head. “keep them there,” he grumbles and you nod dumbly. eddie doesn’t correct you that time, instead focused on chasing his own high. “open that mouth,” he demands and you do lazily. he spits into your mouth, moaning as you swallow it without being asked. he could feel his release building, the feeling only heightening as he saw how fucked-out you looked. “look at me,” he moans. you use the very little strength you have to make eye contact with him.
  he grabs your legs, pushing them up to hook them over his shoulders. “gonna cum inside you, fucking slut,” he grunts, hammering into you at a whole new angle. your high builds up again, a sweet mix of pain and pleasure as a sob rocks through your body. eddie feels his high coming, keeping his eyes on you. “cum, one last time. now, kitten,” he growls darkly. his thrusts cause your whole body to tremor. your eyes roll back in your head and a screaming sob leaves your lips as the most intense orgasm rips through you.
  you squirt harder than you did the first two times, your velvet walls locking eddie inside you. he thrusts into you messily, cumming deep inside your pussy as you go limp. your head's pounding, and your whole body is flooded with an uncomfortable, fiery mix of pleasure and intense pain. you loved it, but you were barely present. eddie finally stilled, dropping your legs and nearly collapses on top of you. as he tries catching his breath, his cock still buried to the hilt inside you, keeping his cum in you, sobs rack your body. 
  eddie’s mind is so clouded with pleasure that it takes him a minute to come to. the sobs leaving your lips were nearly heart wrenching, tears covering your face as you tried to gasp for air. you were in so much pain, but you fucking loved it. eddie took a few more deep breaths, his brain clearing up.
  then his mind registered your sobbing and he was immediately pushing himself up to look at you. his heart dropped at the sight of your face, your body still jerking uncontrollably and he couldn’t tell if it was from overstimulation or your sobs. he pulled out of you and cupped your face. “oh, no. no, no, no, baby, are you okay?” he asks in panic, trying to get your eyes to focus on him. you let out a sob as your eyes meet his. “fuck, i’m so sorry, babygirl. please take a deep breath,” he says frantically.
  you lower your arms, hiccuping as you try to breathe. “o-off,” you sob, holding your hands towards his face. eddie feels guilt over take him as he quickly removes his belt from your wrists, not being able to really tell how raw they were before you were flinging your arms around him and pulling him close.
  he practically fell against you as you held onto his back like your life depended on it, crying and hiccupping into his neck. “shh, baby, i’m sorry. i didn’t meant to push you so far. why didn’t you say something?” he asks, wrapping an arm under your frame as he tried to hold you to him. 
  you shake your head no, he had the wrong idea. “n-no. stop,” you cry, pulling back just enough to look at him. his eyes were prickled with tears as you put your hand to his face. “don’t be so-sorry. m’not hurt. i-i loved it,” you hiccup and eddie shakes his own head.
  “baby, you’re crying,” he says, not wanting you to lie to make him feel better.
  you stroke his cheek and take a couple deep breaths. “yeah, b-but, it was so good. never had- fuck, never had better sex. i want it to be like that all the time,” you say seriously, blurry eyes looking from one of his to the other. 
  “you promise? baby, that was really rough i should’ve known better,” eddie says, searching your face for the truth.
  “i loved it,” you confirm. eddie takes a moment before nodding and pulling you back closely to him. eddie slowly pulls away from you causing you to whimper.
  eddie gives you a soft smile, still weary, and kisses your forehead. “you wanna take a bath, or you wanna go right to bed?” he asks, stroking your hair.
  “can we take a bath together?” you asks and eddie nods. he slowly unclips your stockings from the belt and pulls them off, the panties following. he lifts your back up as little as possibly, carefully unhooking and unzipping the belt and your bra. he admires your body as he carefully peels the expensive fabric from your skin. 
  he puts all the clothes in the hamper before picking you up from the bed. “you did so good, babygirl,” he coos as he walks you to the bathroom. you hum, leaning your head into his chest. he sets you gently on the closed toilet seat and turns on the warm water. you watch carefully as he throws in bath salts and bubble bath, stuff he would never use for himself. “lavender good?” he asks softly, holding the bubble bath up to you. you nod lazily, watching him pour a generous amount in and mixing it to create bubbles. “i'm gonna go grab us some water,” he tells you as the bath continues filling.
  when he comes back with the ice water, the bath tub is full and ready. after turning off the faucet he places a cup in your hand, helping you to take a sip as you were still slightly shaky. once you’ve got some water in you, he picks you up again, carefully placing you in the big, claw-foot tub and helping you sit down. he climbs in behind you, pulling you until your back is laid against his chest. the bubbles almost consume you, stopping just below your shoulders. “this is nice,” you hum, looking up at your boyfriend.
  eddie gives you a sweet smile, leaning down and placing a kiss to your lips. his arms wrap around your middle and yours fall on top of his as you bask in the presence of each other. “y/n?” he asks quietly. you hum in response, fiddling with his fingers. “do you want to get married?” he murmurs.
  you let out a weak snort before giggling. “birthday gift that good?” you ask playfully, looking back at him. he was staring at you with a smile, admiring you but you could tell he was also serious. 
  “more than that good,” eddie says, watching you study him. “but i’m serious. i know we love each other and i really don’t ever see myself with anyone else. if it’s not you, it’s no one,” eddie explains.
  you lean back and give him a kiss. “i would love to marry you,” you say as you pull away. goofy smiles are spread across both your faces as you help scrub each other’s bodies and wash your hair.
  when the water drains and you and eddie are both drying yourself off you really think about what you just agreed to. but who else would you want to marry besides this man? eddie picks you up without warning causing you to squeal and hold onto him. “i can walk now, babe,” you laugh.
  eddie just presses a bunch of kisses to your face as you giggle. “i know, but i like it better this way,” he says before setting you on the edge of the bed. he grabs a pair of shorts for himself, slipping them on as you stretched your arms up. 
  he walked over to you with a clean pair of panties in his hand and one of his shirts on his shoulder. he crouched down, holding your underwear out for you to step into. “up,” he says, making you roll your eyes.
  “eddie, i can put on my own clothes,” you say but stand anyway.
  eddie pouts and looks up at you. “just let me take care of you,” he says as you step into them. he slides them up your legs, making sure they’re in place before putting his hands on your hips and standing. he places a soft kiss on your lips, and then he’s getting his black sabbath t-shirt ready to slip over your head. “if you wanna do something,” eddie begins with a roll of his eyes as he tugs the shirt down the rest of the way. “do you wanna grab those other sheets from the laundry room?” he asks.
  you stand on your toes to kiss his cheek to go do just that as he begins stripping the bed. you laugh, remaking the bed and your cheeks flushing at the mess you had made. once it’s ready, eddie has the lights off and is pulling you towards him as he peppers kisses all along your face. 
  “happy birthday,” you whisper, feeling tiredness begin taking over you.
  eddie pulls back, tucking some hair back and admiring you for a moment. “thank you, baby. i loved my birthday. i love you,” he says, knowing those words don’t do justice for how much he cares for you.
  “i love you, too,” you mumble before pressing yourself into his chest. your hand rests near his heart, your head on the other side, one leg thrown across his thighs as your eyes flutter shut. eddie wraps both arms around you, holding you securely to him and placing one more kiss to your head before the both of you fall into a very deep, well needed sleep.
--
based on prompts from @mila-solos @kittenxo-xo @asscheek-valley
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simpjaes · 1 year
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SUMMARY: men are liars. especially, jake sim, some guy you met once at a party and now only know through text messages. he makes promises he can’t keep but it’s mostly because he likes to hide that he’s more desperate than you are to get his dick wet. 
jake sim x afab reader 
MDNI!
WC: 5.6k
GENRE: smut, kinda subby!jake
TAGS: desperate jake, he’s experienced with sex just really bad at not being pussy drunk, reader has fun anyway and pokes fun at how he talked big game and couldn’t live up to it.
A/N:  i know, i know. i’m supposed to be writing a different jake fic but this happened.  this is a gift for my other monster cock loser jake lovers. not proof read
NSFW TAGS: he is packing a huge cock, nipple play, finger fucking, pussy eating, he gets compared to a dog/puppy a few times, dirty talk, jake gets desperate enough mid-way though and does fuck her really good, unprotected sex, cream pie, lots and lots and lots of cum.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
Six times the man known as Jake Sim rendered you sore the next morning using nothing but pixel words on your phone screen. Six times over the span of two weeks. 
You met him at a party, and he was both the first and the last man you spoke to that night. You should have caught on back then why he didn’t bring you home with him and only offered you his number with a wink and a shit-eating grin. 
Now, as you see him in front of you again, this time in your apartment, you can see exactly why he didn’t bring you home. His facade would have been broken and you never would have been able to see the dirty little texts he’s able to send when he doesn’t have you looking him in the eye.
“Didn’t you say you were going to have me against every surface in my apartment the second you get here?” You question, twenty minutes into him being over and not once making a move on you. 
He looks much more awkward compared to the tipsy man you originally met, still his dyed blond hair looks just as messy though. His fashion is still on par with the attitude you’d seen him throw at you too but,  this version of him is throwing you for a loop. His lack of response leads you to believe that he must have lost interest in the span of time he’s been over.
“It’s not like I don’t want to,” Jake finally responds, brushing his fingers through his hair as he sits stiffly next to you on your bed, fully clothed. “Usually I don’t actually come see the girls I text.”
You shuffle next to him, turning with an eyebrow raised at him. 
“So you’re not going to, then?” 
Jake looks at you dumbfounded, shaking his head as if to pity himself before nodding quickly.
“I’d like to,” he argues, fiddling with his hands and avoiding your eyes now. “I just, um…”
You wait, allowing the silence to take hold of the room. 
“I’m a little more uh–” He fidgets and fumbles his words again. “Listen, I don’t want to disappoint you if I don’t live up to how we normally talk.”
“What do you mean by that?” You ask, feeling duped by the man sitting there. 
“I’m actually kind of like–” He lets out a deep sigh before turning toward you with honest eyes. “You’re making me shy, okay?” 
You breathe in, shocked because based on the strings upon strings of sentences he’s thrown your way via text, the last thing you’d ever consider Jake is fucking shy. 
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
He was right in telling you he was shy, and by now you appreciate the warning from him. It took a few minutes to get yourself back into the mood, but it happened nonetheless when he finally buckled under your gaze and kissed you.
If there was anything Jake did that he promised, it was kissing you in a way you never knew you needed. He was good at it too, so good that you nearly forgot he was supposed to have already fucked you on every surface the two of you passed to get to the very room you’re in right now. 
Kind of strange actually, that he seems so different compared to his fantasies with girls he never thinks he will actually see again. So cocky in his text messages, saying he will ruin you, asking if you’d choke on his dick, saying he would love to see you struggle under him. Now though, that very man is struggling to keep his hands to himself despite admitting that he’s shy.
You chuckle into the kiss, feeling his hands reach for you with the sound of rustling clothing against your duvet. You let him chase as you slide lower, lower, lower, until your head is against your pillow and he’s practically hovering over you to keep kissing.
This is what you wanted. Jake over you, dominating a kiss and roaming his hands up and down your body. 
“Shy?�� You question between kisses, trailing your hand down to meet where his was, snaking under your shirt. “You seem to know exactly what you want.”
Jake’s eyes are empty as he looks at you, the cold feeling of his fingertips do not stop though. He continues to trail them upward until they meet the flesh of your chest, where you skipped the bra because you expected it to be a nuisance if anything tonight. 
You’re shocked by his slight groan at the feeling of your already erect nipples. His groan seemed like it came out of relief, your body showing signs of being turned on despite his reluctance that was never promised to you. 
“If you were like this over text, I still would have liked you, you know.”  You admit to him with a sigh as he trails his lips down to your jaw, and you reach for his waist to pull him further on top of you. “You’re cute still, even if you’re not about to make me cry like you said you would.”
His cock twitches at that, wishing so much that he could live up to those dirty thoughts in his head and just fucking do it. But he can’t, because his body doesn’t work like that. If he were to do all of those things to you right now, he would surely come within the span of fifteen seconds and make this the worst fuck of your life. He’s too desperate to have control, and far too timid to even pull his cock out right now. 
“It’s embarrassing,” he whispers against your earlobe, trailing kisses there too until he gets to the collar of your shirt. “I want to do those things to you, but I don’t think I’d be able to last if–”
He’s cut off by you shoving him up and pulling your shirt off in one go, trying to get to business much quicker now that he appears to at least be turned on. (Wrong, he’s been turned on since before he even got here.)
Jake trails off his sentence, forgetting what he was even going to say as the flesh of your breast sits comfortably in one of his hands and the other springs free. His cock twitches again as he stares, practically burning a hole through you as he looks, mouth slowly opening in a sigh at the image.
You see him malfunction and wonder if maybe, maybe, this could be even better than what you originally were expecting. Such a rough looking man with messy hair and even rougher fingers acting like this at the mere sight of some titties? Sign you the fuck up.
“God, look at you.” You groan with a smile, chuckling at the way he appears to blush. “You talk such big game but…”
“Yeah, yeah.” Jake shakes it off, releasing his hand from your chest and now removing his own shirt and revealing a nice, toned body for you to look at. “It’s not my fault you make me act this way.”
“Oh? Just me, or?”
Jake nods, then shakes his head. 
“Not entirely, I’m just better at fucking over text.” He explains, now settling one leg between yours and dipping his head down to your chest, nuzzling against one of your tits and grabbing the other. “Doesn’t change the fact that I still want to fuck you right now though.”
You feel those words run through you, his soft voice coming out raspy and needy when he says it. 
“You’re a weird one,” You laugh, gripping his hair and bucking your hips up to straddle his thigh. “and I still want you fuck me, even if it’s not the way you said you would.” 
He licks against your chest now, sucking one of your nipples into his mouth as he focuses on the feeling of you riding against his thigh. He’s thankful you still act desperate, at least you weren’t lying when you talked to him through texts.
“I’ll still make you feel good.” He whispers in a slight plea against your nipple, moving his head to the other and suckling against that one next. “Just let me try.”
God, you didn’t expect those four little words to hit you the way they do. A man asking you to let him try? Jake Sim at that? Sure, by now it should be expected but this is a different kind of heat flowing through you. Never have you been given control, and never have you felt the need to ride a man’s thigh like this. 
“Jake,” You start, a little out of breath as you move your hips against him to the point that clothing becomes far more annoying than not. “Can we please take our clothes off before anything else?”
He pauses against your nipple, nodding before suckling again and then finally pulling away.
“You first.” He says, not yet wanting to pull his thigh from the way you move against it. 
You look up at him, his lips glistening from his own saliva coating your chest.
“Why? Are you lying about your massive cock too?”
Jake looks down at the bulge between his legs and then back at you. Your eyes followed him to his cock, and they remained there.
“Oh.” You smile, now having the ability to pull yourself from his thigh and pull your shorts off at record speed. “Show me.”
Jake lets out a breathy and nervous chuckle, his ears flashing a darker shade of red than before as he nods to you in a timid way. You watch his hands go for the button and zipper, and you watch them further as they lower his pants to his knees before he kicks them away behind him. Now, all that’s left is looking at the already dampened spot on his briefs and the huge length stuffed beneath, clearly needing some relief. 
He still looks away from you, not yet moving to take off his briefs until you feel his hands pull at your panties. 
“Can I see now too?” He asks, already pulling them to the side and catching a glimpse of your folds. He shudders visibly at it before letting your panties snap back into place and all you can do is stare, still, between his legs.
“Take them off.” You deadpan.
He’s unsure if you’re implying he take his off, or yours, so he shoots for what he would prefer, gripping your panties and rolling them off of you. 
“Take. them. off.” You say, ignoring the fact that you’re entirely vulnerable before him, yet feel safe and comfortable because of how timid yet eager he appears to be. 
He fumbles to follow your direction, quickly kicking off his briefs and positioning himself between your legs again, sitting on his knees. 
Your eyes don’t leave his exposed cock. Thick and heavy. He truly wasn’t lying about that at least, and you can imagine that regardless of how shy he is, he definitely could make good on his word with a cock like that.
“Oh, fuck.” You comment, lifting on your elbows and sitting up. Your face is now mere inches from his, but your eyes continue to stare down. 
He puts a hand over himself shyly, wondering if maybe you’re not impressed, maybe he’s a complete fraud. 
“Are you disappointed?” He asks, leaning a bit back and away from you.
“Disappointed?” You laugh, looking back up at him and instantly grabbing his face, staring directly into his eyes. “Jake, you’re bigger than what you described it as.”
He smiles a bit, feeling all fuzzy and warm inside as you look at him. His confidence bubbles up, giving him every ability in the world at this moment, and what does he do with it? He looks between the two of you as he drops his cock and watches it land between your legs, and then he looks back at you before dipping in for a much less timid kiss.
Feeling his cock rest between your legs is one thing, but feeling how his tongue kisses into your mouth at a more eager pace than before is an entirely different thing. You’re loving it, despite the turn of events with him. 
“Not so shy now, hm?” You laugh, tilting your head before dipping back in to kiss him only to be met with a sigh of chuckles from him. 
“If you keep complimenting me, maybe someday I can live up to all those promises,” He says, putting a hand at the nape of your neck and laying you back down. “Then again, I don’t expect to last nearly as long with how wet you seem to have gotten.”
You hum against his words, hands reaching between your body and his to grab his length and hold it, just to feel the weight, just to see how much of it you can fit into one hand…just to see if–
He groans at the first touch, his body shivering against yours as he trails his lips down again, landing against your neck with a small pant when his hips buck into your palm. 
“I can’t believe that this whole time, this is how you react to having your dick touched.”
He says nothing and instead, continues to fall into the feeling of the short tugs against his cock, barely stimulating his entire length but still feeling like it’s enough to keep him pleased for the time being. 
“Wanna, maybe, I don’t know–” You playfully start, tugging his cock a bit harder this time after collecting some of the pre-cum from the head, “Touch me too?”
Say no more, Jake’s fingers are instantly at your entrance as soon as you say it, sliding in so easily that it nearly makes you forget that you even told him to do it. His fingers are slender, and each joint on the digits are felt against your aching and gripping walls. 
“I can’t believe how wet you are,” he coos, bottoming his two fingers out before gently beginning to thrust them in. “Were you like this when we texted too?”
“Wetter.” You lie, mostly because you were extremely wet from his texts but this…this is entirely different. You’re far more wet. 
“Oh?” Jake asks, looking slightly disappointed but you can feel the way he changes how he moves his fingers. He also stops rutting against your hand, as if to put all of his focus on making you as wet as possible. 
You moan for him at the feeling, his fingers tickling a spot inside of you that always has you seeing stars. Part of you wonders if he even knows he’s doing it, but you don’t press him, instead, you reward him with a tighter grip, pumping his cock until you can feel more beads of pre-cum slathering your fingertips. 
“You need to be more confident, fuck–” You call out in a half moan, unprepared for the Jake that showed up but completely prepared to praise the hell out of what he’s doing. “This alone could have anyone on their knees.”
He smiles, furrowing his brow as he looks up at you, fingers picking up pace and starting to scissor you open. 
“Can I taste you?” He asks out of fucking nowhere, and god. 
“Jesus, Yes.” You groan, feeling him pound his fingers into you three more times before sliding out and pulling away from you. 
You close your eyes, anticipating what it must be like to have him eat your pussy, and fuck, he wasn’t lying about that either. You remember that text from him, when he said “i’ll lick up every inch of your pussy babe, you wouldn’t even have to ask.”
The fact that you didn’t ask him to do it. The fact that he’s down there right now, already spreading you open on his tongue and licking every sensitive dip and corner he can reach. You’re just more and more pleased with this shy man that showed up on your doorstep. 
His tongue is warm and firm no matter where he licks, and only softens up when he goes to lick a flat stripe up your slit, essentially sucking up all of the wet you’re offering him and savoring it through whimpered groans at the way your legs attempt to squeeze around his head.
He knew you’d taste good but this is on a whole other level. He can’t help it when he grips your thighs and spreads your legs out further, and he certainly can’t help himself when he prods his tongue into you, trying to taste more of what you have to offer. 
You can feel his tongue dipping in, and the way he grips your thighs renders you nearly useless if you were to try and wiggle away, not that you’d ever want to but it almost tickles with how good it feels. Your legs begin to shake in his grasp, and he only spreads them further at that, tilting his head at an angle to lick into you even deeper.
“Holy shit,” You sigh out, reaching down frantically to hold his head in place so that you can grind your hips forward against his stiffened tongue. 
He’s nearly going insane the moment you do that, riding his tongue and gripping his hair so harshly. If he could die like this, it would only be a dream. 
Jake hums into you with his lips curling up at each drag of your hips, each taste of your walls, up until you’re grinding so aggressively that his tongue is back to hitting your clit for a split second before dipping in. He lets you do it, loving the way you use his face like a toy but, he’s starting to feel desperate for you. 
In this position with his arms hugging your thighs and back arched as he dips down to lick you, his cock is fucking aching and all he can do is fuck forward. There is nothing for him to pleasure himself with, but this suffices for him as the act of humping forward alone is enough to satiate his intense need to fuck something right now. 
Like a dog, humping just to release his intense arousal as he holds onto you. He should be embarrassed, but he knows you can’t see him do it. Especially when he flicks his eyes up and sees your tits jiggling with each move of your hips. Especially when you open your own eyes and they land only on his face. He’d like to think he’s doing a hell of a job right now, especially with how no matter how much he licks, you continue to drip for him. 
As you continue to ride yourself against his face, you suddenly feel his fingers squeezing against your thighs and his head abandon where you guide him. Wanting to taste you still, he neglects your riding hips and plants his lips at your clit, sucking and flicking his tongue until your grip in his hair grows more and more painful and you pull him back to look at him.
His eyes are dazed and his lips are glistening in a swollen and cheeky little smile. He stares back at you, licking his puffy bottom lip before letting his eyes roll at the feeling of that grip you have in your hair.
“Fuck, you’re loving this aren’t you?” You ask, now trailing your eyes down to his body and noting the way he’s desperately chasing nothing with his cock. You know he wants it, and god, are you going to let him have it. 
He grins when you ask him, and he nods proudly at how your arousal coats his mouth and chin. He can smell the entirety of you on his face and it truly does feel amazing to him. Like he’s spiraling into a world of bliss simply for getting to lick your pussy. 
You can barely contain yourself as you watch him. It’s like you’ve lost him completely from reality with the way he’s smiling, and the way his eyes remain drowsy and hooded. You could argue that the man acts cross-faded, but the fact that he acts like this over your pussy? 
“I bet if I asked you to fuck me right now, you’d beg like a little puppy, wouldn’t you?” 
His groan is long and drawn out with his slow nod, his hips fucking forward instinctively when his eyes trail down and sees that your pussy is practically pulsing. 
“Do you want me to beg?” He says in a shaky voice, his chest heaving as his grip on your thighs grow tighter and you drag him back up to your face. 
There, the two of you look at each other for a brief moment before you feel him fuck forward again, sliding his cock against your drenched core and letting out another pained whimper.
“You’re so wet, please.” He cries against your lips as he drops his face lower. 
Your arms shoot around him, feeling his back muscles tense with each intentional thrust against you. The weight of his cock is sliding consistently up and down your pussy, bumping your clit and overstimulating it to the point that all you’d need to do is tense your muscles and you’d be releasing. 
He said please, and you can argue that he’d probably do a flip if you so much as asked him to right now. As much as you wanted to choke on his dick, at this point you’d rather feel what it’s like to have him losing control inside of you. You want to know how he uses it, and you’re already well aware that he very well may make you lose grasp on reality. 
Even now, you can feel his slack lips moving up and down against your own as he continues to hump against you. You can feel his breath on your tongue when you try to see if he’s too lost to even kiss you. And that, he was.
“Go on,” You encourage him, running one hand down his arm and the other up to his hair to grip it again. There, you pull his head back, watching his neck crane and eyebrows furrow in a wince at the feeling. “Fuck me then.”
His unintentional moan comes out strained with the way you have his head pulled back, but he moves one arm to one side of your head and the other straight to his cock, where all he needs to do is press it down and hold it there. As he continues fucking against you, that small motion lets him slide in with ease. 
You can feel his arm beside your head shake at the feeling of his length spreading you open. You can see the way he swallows thickly at the feeling, moaning out and staring at your ceiling as he feels your walls slowly hug his entire length. 
He enters you slowly so that he can feel his sock squeeze your wet out of you, feeling it run down his balls. He shivers at the feeling and the sound of it, and you shiver at how deep he manages to slide in. 
It’s so deep. His thick cock aches inside of you and with the way your walls squeeze him, and even when he tightly fucks forward once again once he’s already bottomed out, he manages to fill you just just that much more. 
You groan out, releasing his hair from your shaking fingers and feeling his lips immediately kiss against your jaw and neck. 
“Fuck, fuck.” He whimpers, relieving you of an inch of him before sliding back in slowly. “Fuck, you feel so tight.” He continues, moving a hand down to your thigh and swirling his fingertips there to try and calm your shaking legs.
You can’t really comprehend anything other than the fact that this man is so fucking hot, and the way he slowly moves his hips just to feel each and every clench of your pussy has you seeing stars. You feel like he’s filled you up beyond belief, and each thrust somehow makes his cock feel heavier, bigger. 
Even as he babbles against your neck, his other hand falls to your tit and he can’t help but mindlessly play with it as he begins to actually fall into a rhythm. You’re still rendered completely speechless as you focus on every single touch he gives to you.
Those gentle, soothing circles of his fingertips on your leg, the other hand harshly pinching your nipple and sending a sharp pain down your body, his cock being driven in, somehow, deeper and deeper as he continuously manages to hit your g-spot and– god, the way his lips slowly trail down to your other tit, biting you there.
“So tight, so good.” He babbles on, slamming his cock into you once before lifting from your breast to see your reaction. 
When he looks up at you, a permanent shit-eating grin is planted on his face with the way you roll your eyes back in a silent moan. Perhaps he wasn’t so much of a liar in those texts. Seeing you react this way has his confidence skyrocketing as he continues to keep that pace. The sound of your pussy being pounded and dripping all over him. He can’t even believe how wet you are, how tight you are still.
He stays like this, staring at each reaction and silent moan as he focuses solely on fucking you as hard and deep as possible. He may not be fast, but he’s making sure you can feel every goddamn inch he has to offer, and it appears that you’re relishing in it. 
Those silent moans you try to release always end in a small hiccup each time his hips meet your inner thighs, and it’s not long before you’re losing grasp all together. You shoot your hands to his arms, gripping his biceps as your only link to reality as you feel him continuously bump the back of your pussy in an immaculate show of how well he knows how to fuck.
“Jake,” You hiccup out, gripping his biceps harder as you clench around him. 
Still, his cock drags through your attempts of speaking, and he continues to stare at you with a grin before hovering his lips over yours.
“What is it?” He whispers in a shaky breath, sucking in his bottom lip and only now picking up the pace so that he can render you speechless again. 
You can feel his lips ghosting over yours, and you really thought you had something to say but the only thing that comes out is a sobbed out moan. You throw your legs around his waist now, moving your own hips to meet his and that alone has him spiraling again.
“Yeah,” He chuckles, dipping his head to your neck and resting it there, “Fuck me,” he whimpers this time, stilling his hips to feel the way you slide him in and out of you.
Still, your strength amazes him. He thought he had control for a few minutes there and yet here he is, acting much like you are with his trembling hands and trembling thoughts. 
You continue to work your hips from under him, and you don’t even know when he stopped playing with your nipple but it doesn’t entirely matter. Not now, not when you need more of him. 
He’s thrown off when you grab his hair again, and he still loves it as much as he did the first two times you did it to him. Then, he can hear your raspy voice whisper out to him as you drag his face, once again, to yours.
“Lay back.” 
That’s all you had to say to have him immediately listening and maneuvering his body in a way that keeps his cock buried deep but still managing to throw himself back on the bed for you to take full control.
Now, he looks up at you and the way your darkened eyes devour him. He’s so fucking turned on right now that he thinks he might cry, especially with the way your knees hug his hips as you immediately start fucking yourself on him.
He’s in awe, hands reaching behind you to grab at your ass and spread it as you bounce on him. Each time you sit yourself down, it’s like you’re being impaled in the most pleasurable way possible. The way he keeps eye contact with you is intense and dangerously intimate, but you can’t bring yourself to look away either.
That smile forms back on his lips as you pick up your pace, and through that smile are moans so erotic you can feel your pussy drench him over and over again each time he does it. Never, have you had sex so fucking good in your life and it’s making you feel almost helpless as you work yourself up to an orgasm.
He still watches you though, before flicking his eyes down and taking in the image of your bouncing tits. He’s quick to remove his hands from your ass to fondle them before sitting himself up aggressively and sucking one into his mouth.
You moan out at that, stilling your bouncing as you opt now to sit with his cock entirely inside of you. You swirl your hips and plant your fingers in his hair, hugging his head as he sucks and bites a swollen spot against your chest before he holds you in an even tighter hug. 
“I’m so, so close.” He says in a broken sigh, trying to move his hips up under your weight and failing to do it.  You listen to his cries though, and resume your bouncing even through his harsh and suffocating hug. 
“Yeah?” You ask, bouncing once, swirling your hips, and then pressing your weight on him to have him falling back into his rightful spot against your bed. 
His grip around you remains, dragging you down with him as he breathes himself through the pleasure and babbles out strings of curses when you manage to still work your hips on him even though he’s gripping onto you for dear life. 
“Gonna let me feel it?” You ask again, this time more playfully as you intentionally press your clit against his pelvis each time you slide him into you. 
He nods brokenly, squeezing his eyes shut and loosening his grip on you, letting you break free and ultimately, intentionally fuck him until he’s pumping you full of everything he has to offer.
You watch as he lies there, seemingly lost again in the bliss of your pussy clenching around him. He barely notices your fingers circling your clit, and is shocked to realize that you’re releasing before him, despite how close he is.
He can feel your walls massage his aching cock as you begin to let out strained moans. He knows you’re coming the second he feels how tight you’re clenching, sucking his cock so deeply inside of you that he has no choice but to release. 
He fucks into you as best he can at this moment, only stopping when he feels the first release inside of you, and there, he tenses his muscles and allows his stiffened length to nearly tear you in half as you continue to work through your own pleasure. 
You can barely open your eyes to see his face, and the way his jaw is slack and his eyes are very nearly crossing before squeezing them shut. God, that alone could have made your orgasm last another ten seconds.
By the time you’re done, he’s still releasing somehow. The sheer amount of cum he’s spilling into you is arguably more than you’ve ever felt, and he trembles through it with whimpered apologies, begging you to stay on him, apologizing with a small “ fuck, wait, I’m still coming–”
And you do, especially through his shaking whisper of “please, take all of it.” 
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
He’s back to his timid self just an hour later, lying on your bed wondering when you’re going to tell him to leave. Wondering if you like him enough to let him do this again with you, hoping you don’t erase his number. 
He’s pleased to know though that, you not only ask him to sleep over but you also make it your mission to go down on him the moment he wakes up next to you. Reminding him that even if he was different upon coming over, he still fucked you better than he ever promised. 
You’d be stupid not to choke on it for him. 
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Text
Eddie hated this and he'd just started.
See, he was so proud when he made it, when he got his first office job. He saw what decades of physical labor did to Wayne's back, his hands, and he wanted to make his uncle proud. So he kept applying and applying and getting ignored and rejected and finally, finally he got a job in a pretty large corporate. Not exactly something prestigious, but hey, it had potential. The experience counted and all that.
He thought maybe workplaces would be different, that the good ol' high school dynamic would fuck off, but no. He was sitting at his desk, trying to fill in paperwork after a taxing phone call, but all he could focus on was whispering from the neighboring cubicle that was ostentatiously loud. He didn't know who sat there yet, the guy had been on vacation for the two weeks Eddie was in the company. From the stuff he was hearing, he was getting introduced anyway and not exactly the way he'd have liked to be.
"Can you believe they actually let him work here?" It was Carol, of course it was, the office gossip and mean girl knockoff. "I mean, he doesn't even look decent! Did you see that hair?" Okay, that hurt. He actually pulled his hair into a neat bun every morning, but you can't please some people. "And he has tattoos, what would our customers think if they actually met him, plus you should have heard the rumors about his past-!"
But just as he was about to slam down the pile of paperwork and either take an extended smoke break or gently ask Carol to go fuck a polar bear, he heard another voice. Bored and wonderfully bitchy.
"That's absolutely fascinating, Carol. Please tell me more, what could this guy possibly have done? It must be something juicy. Did he perhaps fuck his boss during the Christmas party and then lie about it to his boyfriend of five years? Oh wait no. That was you. Silly me."
Eddie had to bite his pencil to stay quiet, but his whole chest hurt by trying to keep the snickering in. And then the offended gasp. "I- you promised you wouldn't-!"
"I didn't promise shit, Carol. You just came to me, cried your eyes out - bad move by the way, invest in some waterproof mascara for god's sake, mascara in wrinkles doesn't good on anyone, and yes, you do have wrinkles - and tried to play the victim. Except I heard your small proposition to the guy before so it didn't really work out. But it's fine, you know," and oooh, the tone was smug, so bored, Eddie loved this guy already, "Tommy saw you as well and had a good time with Nicole to get even. So there's nothing to worry about. Now tell me, what did this horrible Eddie Munson do to summon wrath of such a righteous woman such as yourself?"
Eddie heard a sharp sound as Carol got up from the desk. "Fuck you, Steve Harrington," she spat out and sped past Eddie's seat. He just gave her a small salute.
When the sound of high heels faded, Eddie leaned over the cubicle wall and knocked to draw the guy's attention. And yeah, maybe he was a little bit biased because he'd just obliterated a textbook definition of a shrew, but this Steve was fucking gorgeous, light brown eyes looking at him, a smug smirk tugging at his lips.
"Oh hi," said Steve and offered his hand, shaking Eddie's. "Sorry for that. I'm Steve Harrington and whatever deepest, darkest secrets you're hiding, I don't care, I'm pretty sure I've heard them all. What did you do? Shave your head in school? Join a cult? Cut dolls apart and chant hail Satan?"
That had Eddie laughing again, but he still had an introduction to make. A proper one. "Nice to meet you, Steve. Eddie Munson, and I'm worse than your darkest nightmares. I sometimes wear socks in sandals."
Steve's eyebrow twitched. "Oh, Carol was right, you are a monster!" he muttered. "Speaking of monsters..." His head leaned to the side, towards Carol who was angrily carrying her coffee mug, her mascara running again.
Before he could catch himself, Eddie leaned over the wall and whispered as loudly as he could muster. "Can you believe some people wear dotted dresses with stripes on their stockings? We can't all be born with taste, I guess...tragic."
And again, maybe Eddie was just biased, but Steve's laughter was so pretty that it actually made dealing with Carol's bullshit worth it.
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princeoftheeternalbog · 3 months
Text
Really sleepy and so like sleeping with you headcannons lets go
I'm not sure half of these are even on the same vibe so uhm like do with that what you will, this is so long and it's atrocious but oh well. Also sorry if its ooc😻
I think maybe one line of suggestive in Franky's and Namis.
I feel like i forgot someone tbh..
Luffy
Sleeps anywhere and everywhere but sleeps better and longer next to you. Thus he is obsessed with sleeping with you and whenever he wants to sleep now you have no choice you must take sleep too. He snores and drools but that's kind of a win because then he doesn't care if you do yk? Loves taking naps with you and it's a way he likes to connect with you. Always kisses you before you sleep and after you wake up. He's so comfortable to lie next to because he's so squishy and he holds you in like every way possible because he doesn't have to worry about circulation being cut off or anything.
Zoro
Again he will sleep literally anywhere. He sleeps like a log but somehow you are the only person able to wake him up, Robin theorises it's his observation haki keeping an eye on you but whatever it is you are Zoros designated alarm clock. However, there is about a 30% chance that when you wake him up, he will just snatch you to cuddle and go back to sleep. You cannot escape his hold and if you keep trying to wake him up he'll just bite you(gently) idk he's feral. Depends on his schedule if he's comfortable or not, usually when he's bulking up he's squishier and it's nice to cushion your head on.
Sanji
Never naps and it's so alarming. How does he survive on like 6 hours everyday we will never know. Anyways he's very clingy when he's sleepy but in like a 'I don't want to bother you so I'll just sit over here looking really forlorn', just take the man to bed. Is somehow so comfy to sleep with it's actually annoying because after a certain point you just can't sleep alone anymore. Always tucks you in if you don't get up at the same time as him and he'll leave little snacks and drinks on your bedside table for when you do wake up. Sanji has a more lean muscly build so it's more comfortable to have him lie on top of you and he is not complaining in the slightest.
Nami
Loves cuddling in the winter, hates it in the summer. She's really sensitive to the temperature yk it's that innate sense of the weather, so when it's hot she is hot. But she really likes being able to touch you, so after a certain point she just forces franky to install(invent) air conditioning and it makes the summer so much more bearable. After this there's no escape, you will be cuddling every night (unless boundaries yk). She always tries to convince you stay in bed in the morning...and it always works. She's very persuasive okay. Lets you use her as a pillow, like her chest or thighs or tummy, she just wants to be next to you.
Usopp
Really shy about sleeping with you the first time. Only the first time. After that well lets just say you created a monster. He's really good at telling when you need a nap, especially when you won't admit it. He just subtly ushers you to a comfy spot and then oh what a surprise your eyes are getting really heavy and hm Usopp wouldn't mind if you leant on him for a bit and then snoreville. He thinks you're so pretty when you're sleeping because you look so peaceful and relaxed, so even if he's not tired he will always agree to a nap. He will carry you to bed. And he's so casual about it too, I guess because you're not like watching him directly so he's just like really chill.
Robin
Actually has a nap schedule with her sleep schedule, she usually takes a very short one after lunch because her power can be quite draining and so once you find this out it's just a big cuddle session which she loves. She tends to keep you to a sleep schedule too but she won't force you if you are really insistent on staying up, but she will say I told you so when you're grumpy and feel sick the next day. So lovely to sleep with, she barely moves, never hogs the blanket, doesn't snore and somehow always stays very cool even in the summer. She also always makes sure you get into bed safely if you're drunk or ill, even if she is too, she really cares about you.
Franky
I won't lie...he builds himself an entire like cushion add-on thing so you can comfortably sleep next to him. He looks like a giant marshmallow man it's so funny. But also it's so cute because he takes your comfort so seriously and he runs multiple tests to make sure it's the absolute comfiest he can be for you. Loves naps but absolutely adores actual bedtime because of the whole like rituals and because he knows he doesn't have to get up in like an hour. Sometimes he will seriously overwork into the night, but on those occasions it's fairly easy to coax him to bed(😚). Also he wears one of those stupid scrooge hats tbh. And yes he says super in his sleep.
Brook
Really insecure about sleeping together because he thinks he'll be uncomfortable to lie next to or cuddle :(. On the other hand, you're also really worried because you don't want to accidentally hurt him while he's asleep, so for the first few months you sleep in beds that are close enough to hold hands instead. Eventually when you both become comfortable with the idea, you end up sleeping together almost every night and you occasionally nap together too. He wears really soft padded pajamas to make sure you're comfy. It's surprisingly more comfy to sleep next to him than you thought it would be.
I won't lie sometimes you do shit yourself waking up and seeing a skeleton.
Jinbei
So responsible, absolutely will stop you from napping if it's too close to bedtime. He knows sleep is important but he also knows a routine is important...and he can't bear watching you sleep alone so if you mess up your schedule then you're messing up his. This also works for if you try to stay up late too, he'll straight up snatch you off the ground and just carry you to bed no matter how much you complain. Really good cuddler, like really good. He always knows how much pressure to use while holding you and when you want more or less contact, knows when you need extra blankets, when you want to sleep in a hammock instead of a bed. He's got a sixth sense for your sleeping habits (read: he's desperately in love with you).
Law
Really grumpy about it. And really shy. Also he's a hypocrite, he'll stay up working till early hours of the morning but if you dare even try he's stood there staring at you like the mf eyes of notre dame. He always wants to cuddle but absolutely despises asking so again he just stares, you can always tell though because his ears go really red. Once you're in the bed though he's suddenly mr suave i will arrange everything, he will literally pick you up to manoeuvre you both into a better sleeping position and doesn't even bat an eye. He will nap but you have to trick him into it, he secretly loves it and lets you do it even when he knows what's happening.
Kidd
Needs like 15 million blankets to sleep. Uses one of said 15 million blankets to wrap you up like a burrito if you refuse to come sleep/nap with him. But actually it kinda does hurt his feelings so you can make up for it by playing with his hair until he falls asleep. Loves napping, he's like an overgrown cat and he'll sleep literally anywhere. But if it's anywhere other than his or yours (or killers) room he somehow? manages? to scowl? in his sleep? Yeah I don't know but it just stops his crew from messing with him because he looks so angry. Like Zoro he will literally just snatch you if you're in his vicinity, like you walk past for two seconds and then suddenly your vision flips and you're just stuck in this iron grip. He won't let you go and the crew just walk past you too.
Killer
You literally don't sleep together until you've been dating for like a fucking year. He really values his privacy and you really respect it which culminates in neither of you asking for such a long time that you both forget its a common couple thing. Until someone asks why you don't sleep together and then you guys are like huh idk and then that's the day you finally do. He's a good cuddler but he's a blanket hogger and you have to braid his hair before bed or it will end up in your mouth. On the plus side, he will make and leave breakfast or coffee (or anything you want) on your bedside table if he wakes up first. Also he always picks the best bedsheets and eventually buys two quilts so you can at least have some blanket when he snatches it all.
Ace
Naturally runs like a furnance and is hell to sleep next to in the summer. But he gets really grumpy if you dont sleep next to him so the crew make you suck it up I'm sorry. Literally you're like clawing at the walls as they throw you in and lock the door. Anyways he's a really good cuddler and so comfy to sleep with, and he always takes naps with his head in your lap. He loves to have you sleep on him too because he loves to look at your face and stroke you hair, idk he likes being slow with you even though he's really energetic. Being naturally sleepy and like a little radiator also tends to make the people around him sleepy so you two are banned from working next to each other because you both just end up napping.
Marco
He doesn't sleep a lot because well he doesn't really need to. But he adores sleeping with you. It's one of his like favourite 'bonding' activities, especially if you haven't been able to be alone for a while, he just loves being that close and the intimacy of sleeping in each others beds. On another note he's obsessed with making your bed really comfy because as a doctor he knows sleep hygiene is important and as a bird...well yk...nest. He's not shy about it but don't tease him because it will hurt his feelings and he won't tell you to save your feelings, beautiful sweet man that he is. LOVES a good nap/cuddle especially in the winter, if you both have spare time he just bundles you both in a big fluffy blanket and just exists with you for a bit.
Izou
He is surprisingly a really undignified sleeper, which is why you don't sleep in the same room for months when you first get together😭. When you finally do, you wake up with his arm in your face, his hair is everywhere, there's a pillow across the room, the blanket is somehow under the bed, you're just like wtf how. And Izou is just (⁠ ⁠´⁠◡⁠‿◡⁠`⁠). But he gets better over time because his brain becomes more aware of your presence as you become more important to him and then bedtime settles into comfy chaos. Pillows still end up everywhere but he is now your cushion so you don't really care. He doesn't really nap anywhere that's not his room but if you do then he carries you to bed :).
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yuri-is-online · 3 months
Note
"The moon is beautiful tonight" bro if someone said that to me I'd choke 💀. So here's a request ig. Octavinnle and scarabia saying this phrase in casual conversation causes like. it doesn't mean anything in twst, but yuu doesnt know that. So yuu just looks at them like
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And suddenly they're being a hell of a lot more affectionate towards them specifically, which is really starting to fuck with their emotion at this point. Cause like. "I've thought of what we'd act like as a married couple a million times and you are acting exactly like that"
So now like, idk, 2 months later or something, the boys basically do a "reject me so I can move on. Or not, please not, actually"
And yuus like? We've been together for 2 months now? I thought we were taking it slow but not this slow??
He doesn't even fully remember what he said, or the context that brought it up. If someone were to offer him all the world's wealth and power he wouldn't be able to tell them what brought about this change.
If he did he might find it ironic that in your world there was a place and time where "I love you" could be translated into "the moon looks beautiful tonight." For what else could he have been trying to say?
I LOVE THIS TROPE I LOVE IT SO SO MUCH. UNREQUITED REQUITED ACCIDENTAL LOVE CONFESSION MY BELOVED. Anyway yeah sure I can do this easy. Also can someone tell me what "ig" means I am an elderly woman ☆ヽ(o_ _)o notes: they/them used for Yuu, angst with the intent of comfort, not all of them follow the flow of the prompt exactly sorry, idk if I like this one? I'm so sorry it took so long I loved this prompt but for some reason when I sat down to write it my brain fried. More fic can be found on my masterlist here.
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Azul
What He Says:
You can't actually see the moon from Octavinelle, so how the conversation topic got around to it is quite lost on you. "You just don't really seem like an astrology h- person to me?" It is all you can do to bite back a different description as you try to pretend your focus is on the silverware you are rolling and not the ever so slightly disheveled octomer across the office. You treasure these times, though you have to wonder just how intentional they are. Azul always has an aura of manufactured perfection around him, so to see him with ink stained hands and a crooked tie... you wish you were quick enough to get a picture with something other than your mind's eye.
"I could say the same about you," he smiles as he speaks in a way you want to believe is affectionate "though I suppose it shouldn't, every planet large enough to host life will have a moon." Your fingers fidget with the napkins as you wonder where to take this talk, talking with Azul is a lot like a dance at a masquerade you haven't been invited to. One small slip and he has you at his mercy.
"I was surprised your moon looks so similar to mine." You try. "It was very comforting to know it still represents my deepest, truest self."
"Then it must look beautiful tonight." Azul says softly, as if he is more testing the words in his mind than he is saying them. But still you startle and drop the silverware and make him jump.
"I'm sorry?" You stumble over yourself to pick it up and see a worried Azul standing in front of you.
"I said the moon must look beautiful tonight." He says as he bends to help, so casually that he has to call out to you again to make you realize this isn't a dream.
"It is." You pull yourself up and stand closer to him than you have ever previously dared.
When He Breaks (Two Months Later):
Ramshackle Prefect: Morning Azul ⸜(。˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡
Azul stares at his phone as if he is unused to the words on his screen. His thumb hovers over the heart as if he could reach out and touch what sits on the other side and know.
You: Morning, a bit early for you isn't it?
Not that he is upset exactly, this is a lovely thing to wake up to. But it's torture, pure torture to lack the context for any of this. When you started messaging him in the morning he had been too pleased to think critically. His mind conjures up images of how sweet you could sound when half asleep, what it would be like to hear that wish from you every morning out loud instead of on a screen. He shakes his head trying to blink back the tears as he rises, these thoughts are like one of those mirages he'd heard Jamil describe before. If he looked too hard it would disappear and leave him with nothing but sand, and there is nothing a merfolk fears more than the absence of water.
Ramshackle Prefect: (。•̀ᴗ-) Ramshackle Prefect: hehe im goin back to sleep now. Ramshackle Prefect: dont overwork urself. it's supposed to be the weekend!!!
"Supposed to be the weekend" he wants to die. His heart hammers away at his chest as reads and re-reads his messages searching for a sign of how or why he is getting these messages. It's a thankless task, he's done this every day for... it feels like years but he knows from his carefully kept notes it's only been two months one week and three days. And he does mean notes, so what if he's taken to keeping Yuu's file in his night stand it's still kept in a file which means it isn't a diary. Not that it would be a problem if he did-
Ramshackle Prefect: oh before I forget is it ok if I stop by the lounge later? I tried making a pudding and want to know if it tastes good Ramshackle Prefect: y'know to people who don't eat literal dirt
-so no he wasn't keeping a diary but maybe Jade is on to something and he should really start because he hears those are good for managing stress.
~~~~
"Not that I am unimpressed with your efforts," is what Azul says out loud with a great deal of effort "but is it just me or have you been trying to cook a lot more lately?" It had started with little sandwiches and maybe a salad on days he was still at work late into the night, dropped off with the claim that Yuu was worried he wasn't taking care of himself but they never actually stayed to watch him eat it. This was new, as if they were testing the waters of something from their position on his couch, face still puffy with sleep as they settle themselves deep into its puffy cushions and watch him at his desk. Maybe they were concerned he would not want a desert and intended to stay and make sure he didn't throw it out. That had to be it, but then why visit dressed so casually? He can count on one hand the times he has seen Yuu out of an NRC uniform, and none of those allowed him a glimpse of their actual preferences in clothing.
It's like they've forgotten who they are dealing with.
"Well yeah, it's a good skill to have." Yuu looks at him with a genuine unguarded smile. "Besides it's fun to get your opinions on my food, I don't always understand how you come up with them but I feel like it helps."
"My I didn't realize you held my advice in such high esteem." He feels much more like himself now with this information. Of course Yuu has been messaging him more, they need him for something. It might sting, but it's safe. Logical. Something he can work with. "Maybe I'll just have to start charging you, can't have you taking my secrets and stealing away my customers, can I."
But for some reason this just makes you laugh. "No need to worry about that, I only really cook for you. And Grim I guess but like I said, he literally eats dirt. I mean just the other day-
"What did you say?" Azul's voice sounds strained.
"About Grim eating dirt?" You say, and Azul finally for someone so smart and so proud on his ability to read people thinks that he might have made a mistake. "He says he's making a tier list."
"Why are you so painfully human?" His smile is strange, you can't say you have ever seen him like this before, it's a strange mix of happiness and resignation. "Your heart is so- prefect do you trust me?"
"Yes." You answer, seemingly confused as if your answer to that question shouldn't have been something he doubted.
"Would you trust me with your life? Your secrets?" He makes his way out from behind his desk to stand above you, to look down at you and confirm that for some damnable reason you are still calm. "Would you trust me with your life?"
"...only if you wanted it." Finally he sees a trace of fluster in you, finally you feel as nervous around him as he does around you constantly. He places a finger under your chin and forces you to look at him.
"Then tell me how you feel about me truthfully. Because everything you have said and done up to this point has been driving me crazy into thinking I have a chance." You blink. Once. Twice. And then a look of pure confusion distorts your perfect face.
"You- you don't know? But I thought- I mean you said-" And then suddenly Yuu has managed to jump out from the couch and the intensity of the moment stutters closer to comedy as Azul watches you curl under his desk like it's an octopot. "You said the moon was beautiful."
It's Azul's turn to blink. Once. Twice. He feels like he should be holding back tears, or disappointed in some way but- "I did say that... but what does that have to do with, anything?" You don't move and Azul considers his options, and decides to walk slowly to his desk and pick up the pudding before settling himself just out of sight from where you are hiding. And he waits, he waits for you to speak like his hands aren't clammy and he is not worried at all about what you might have to say.
"In my world when you say that it means something." You sound so small and alone, but still he waits. "I was really happy to hear you say it, but I didn't think... no I just didn't think. I'm so so so sorry."
"What did you think I said?" His mind is racing with the possibilities, but he has an idea because really what else could he have said that would explain all of this behavior?
"I don't wanna say it. It's embarrassing." You sound close to tears and Azul can't have that now can he? He crouches down to look at you curled under his desk and thinks that Floyd must have been wrong when he called you a shrimp, how could you be anything other than another octopus, waiting for someone who understood them too?
"As embarrassing as saying it again?" He doesn't wait for you to reply. "The moon looks beautiful tonight." He watches your breath hitch in delight as he fully invades your space and whispers what it looks like he should have just said all along. "I love you."
And gets to hear the one thing he has wanted most. "I love you too."
Jade
What He Says:
"And that is the Hero constellation." Jade makes sure to keep his hand as close to you as plausible, resting the back of it against yours as he uses his pencil to point at the star chart you are examining to avoid having to move it away from your addictive warmth. He delights in the way you try to suppress your shudders yet make no move to shake him off, what a dangerous game it is you have decided to play tonight. "Named after the Hero who dove into the underworld to fetch back his beloved from death itself."
"It looks familiar." You swallow and try to focus on the stars, Jade had been kind enough to offer you some "opinions" (because help would cost you and he has no intention to charge yet) when he saw you struggling to read your astrology homework. "But I don't think it was as important to astrology back in my world..."
"Oya? Your world also values the guidance of the stars?" Jade is always hard to read, but even more so in the dark. Something to do with his natural habitat you suppose, not that you are excited about the potential he sees you as some sort of prey. Not that you couldn't be if you knew just what sort.
"Well yeah sometimes. But I think it has more to do with the zodiac constellations and the position of the planets." You smile and hope this little bit of information is enough for Jade to take as payment instead of a favor but he simply hums.
"Yes I do seem to recall you saying something like that." He says with a smile and you desperately wrack your brain for how he could know that when you know damn well it wasn't to him.
You were only sort of right, he had been there, just out of sight listening intently as you described the differences in the mythological origins of the various signs and their importance in match making.
"Only in some cultures Ace!"
But you had made no mention of whether or not that culture was yours, which was all Jade really cared about. Not that he placed much interest or faith in the stars but if you did that was important data. But no matter how carefully he tried to poke the only thing you ever seemed to really like talking about was the moon. "The moon looks beautiful tonight." Jade says, bitterly, head full with ideas that he wants to give but cannot without overplaying his hand. And yet-
"Do you mean that?" He turns his head abruptly, blinking in confusion down at your flustered self. Jade knows right away that he has said something without meaning to, your reaction screams it but just this once- no he is always selfish when it comes to you. So in keeping with his habits, he drops the pencil and folds his hand around yours properly.
"Every word." It is all he can do to keep his teeth from showing as he watches you fold into him. Normally when Jade offers to walk you home you make up an excuse or outright decline, but when he offers tonight you are happy to accept. You even let him help you pick up your things and when he decides to push his luck and ask for your hand-
You let him take it. His brain is fried, the only thing he can think of and feel is the texture of your skin and the weight of your fingers intertwined with his. Neither of you speak on the way back to Ramshackle, Jade barely hears himself whispering you a goodnight as he swears you stare at his lips in the same way he always dreams of yours.
His mind works overtime as he walks back to his dorm, thinking and re-thinking his words and wondering if he has reached the right conclusion. Data, he needs more data on this change. You have let him get close to what he wants in moments of weakness before, but you have never let him touch and as much as he wants to throw himself into you and be consumed with his assumptions...
When He Breaks (3 months later):
He is long past collecting data at this point, he is just being a coward. Jade is fairly certain that Yuu is courting him... but that pesky doubt keeps creeping back in the longer he looks at them. Not that Jade is unfamiliar with doubting himself, or waiting to strike but you...
"Are you alright, Jade?" You're laid across his lap without a care in the world watching that damn moon again, completely unaware of him unraveling beneath you. "You've been spacing out a lot lately."
"I've just had a lot on my mind~" He caresses the side of your face and you let him, you even whine a bit when he retracts it and speed up his heart rate just enough to make him hyper conscious of his breaths. "Can I ask you something?"
"Technically you already have." You squirm to try and dodge his flick but don't seem too fussed by it. "But sure, what's bothering you?"
"Do you hate me?"
"What?" Oh that look of shock on your face is precious he hasn't seen it in a while. Slowly, giving you just enough space to run if you want Jade bends towards you, smiling wide and tootful as he repeats the question.
"I was wondering if you hate me dear Prefect. Because you see," he sniffles and tries to pretend he doesn't hear you groan in exasperation "our relationship these past few months has been nothing but pure torture for my poor self."
"Oh has it now." You don't sound like you believe him how tragic. "I didn't realize I was such bad company."
"Oh the worst sort." He whimpers. "The sort of company that takes advantage of the thin lines between you and does all sort of things to your poor heart."
"... thin lines?" Finally. FINNALY. You sound just as worried as he's been these past three months. He ceases his blubbering and looks at your embarrassed face properly. It's adorable, he'll have to ask for your forgiveness later for his lengthy pause admiring it later.
"Please be truthful." He whispers just a tad lower than is necessary. "And be gentle with me in your rejections so I can move on if I must but first-"
"We're not dating?!?!?" How rude you don't let him finish before you interrupt and try to run away. His long arms interrupt your retreat, pulling you down with peels of laughter (from him it's clear you don't find this funny) as he rolls you onto the grass, pinned directly beneath him. You look good like this, eyes focused entirely on him and no longer pining after the moon.
"There seems to have been a misunderstanding." He says and you try your best to glare threateningly up at him. "I can't quite remember anything I might have done to make you think we were together. Was it something I said?"
"You said... I'm so stupid."
"I don't seem to recall ever having said that outloud." You try to knee him in the groin but he pins your leg down with his own, such useful things though a tail would have made this entire confrontation much more efficient.
"Of course it doesn't mean the same thing. This is a different world." You look genuinely distraught, and though Jade doesn't regret his teasing one bit he doesn't want to keep you in suspense much longer. So he bends his face directly next to your ear and whispers.
"The moon looks beautiful tonight." Your breath hitches and Jade rolls to his side, pulling you up onto his chest before you can go back to being angry at him. "You're right, it doesn't mean whatever you think it should here. After all if I wanted to say how I feel about you I wouldn't use a metaphor."
"And just what would you say about me?" You sound so impossibly small, just as in need of reassurance as he had been just mere moments ago.
"I would say that I love you, of course." It's hard to say out loud, but worth the reward of your warmth settling into him once more, with clarity this time and no need for cowardice.
Floyd
What He Says:
Floyd has been in a strange mood lately, not quite bad, not quite good, and yet somehow very clearly not somewhere in between either. Reflective is the word you would choose yourself, but no one is really asking your opinion they just want you to fix it.
Not that you have any real clue how you are going to do that, you will be the first to admit you didn't have much of a plan when you asked if Floyd wanted to climb up to Ramshackle's roof and shoot the breeze. Not that you are really complaining it had been funny watching him try to figure out the climb.
"I though you were supposed to be good at this." You laugh from your perch waving a bag of flavored potato chips in encouragement as Floyd snorts just below you.
"I'm real good at parkour, just haven't really climbed trees before. I ain't a monkey fish." Still he manages to hoist himself up just fine and plop himself next to you with a thud that reminds you of just how much weight there is to him. He's tall and lean, his figure seems to go on forever as he stretches himself out next to you, eyes fluttering shut as he lets out a breath and holds out a hand for a chip.
You stuff it into his mouth and try not to laugh too hard when he chokes. He spits some of the chip shards back at you and tries not to smile too wide when you sputter and whine about how gross he is for spitting on you.
"Ya do this a lot back home?" It's not the first time Floyd has asked about your world, but it is certainly the most random.
"We've got stars in my world too." You snort, trying to think about just how you are going to turn this conversation around into something more cheerful. "But nah, pretty sure someone would have called the cops if they caught me on the roof at 2 am." Floyd rolls onto his side, propping himself up on his arm to really look at you as you look through your grocery bag of loot deciding which of the drinks you brought up you want to drink.
"I meant invite people to hang out real late." You stop your search to look down at him and find your words caught somewhere between your heart and your throat. Not like this. You want to say. Not for this reason. But instead you shrug and try to offer a bottle he doesn't take. You aren't avoiding the question tonight. "Ya gotta have done something for fun, right?"
"Sometimes I'd walk around a store or something." It's weird explaining stuff to a merman, sometimes they get what you're trying to say but other times they come back with "so it's like that time Jade and I got caught chasing a dolphin around the school playground and got yelled at for tying him up in seaweed" and you just have to smile and say "yeah totally" because what the hell. You're pretty sure it's not but you lack all sorts of context to try and make him understand. "Or we'd sneak out and just drive around and talk about stuff. There's- not a bunch of exciting things I know how to do I guess." If this was a normal night Floyd would roll his eyes and lie back down, whine about that's why you always make him do all the work because shrimpies have shit for brains and his plans are always so much better.
But he doesn't. He reaches over and tugs on your leg, gently enough that you can run away if you want but clear in his desire to have you closer. So you move, expecting his hand to drop but it doesn't, not until he settles his head in your lap and he physically can't keep it there anymore.
"Ya ever talk about things that matter with those guppies?" Maybe he's homesick and that's why he's so focused on this. "Things that make ya miss them?" Maybe he's just projecting that onto you since he knows you will listen and be nice about it. But then his hand reaches up and turns your head so you can look him in his eyes.  They're glowing, you barely realize your own hand going to cup Floyd's cheek before he moves his other to keep it from going.  "You ever miss one of em in particular?"
"Not really."  How could you when Floyd looks like this?  "It'd be nice to see my friends again, sure, but it's not like there's one specific person I miss."  Floyd lets out a breath that it sounds like he has been keeping in for a long, long time.  His hands both fall to his side as he lets you look away in embarrassment, wiggling in slight happiness when you choose to rest your hands on his shoulders.
"The moon looks beautiful tonight." Floyd's voice sounds sleepy and oddly content.  Your eyes immediately snap back to him, but he isn't looking at you now. There is a a slight red tinge to his ears that makes you laugh quietly as you run a finger over the shell of one.  So that's what this is about.
"It's always beautiful with you around Floyd."  And finally he is looking at you with a smile.
When He Breaks (2 weeks later):
When you gave Floyd a guest key to Ramshackle he'd been extremely happy. Sure he'd acted like it was no big deal in front of you, beyond a few teasing comments about how buttering him up wouldn't get you anywhere unless you put it in writing. But back at his dorm he had been beyond insufferable, obsessing over just what color thread he should attach to it (purple for the sea witch, teal for the eel, or grey for ramshackle? decisions decisions), wanting to keep it close at all times until he had an excuse to replace it with you.
Because that's what he needed right? An excuse? Floyd wasn't exactly... shy in showering you with his affections but you. You. Until that stupid conversation on the roof a month ago you had always been sort of shy about it, if not outright dismissive. He assumed it was because you just didn't reciprocate but now...
"Floyd?" You can't really remember the last time he knocked, even before you gave him the key he sort of just let himself in. But today he knocked, only once and waited for you to open the door in eerie silence. Even when Floyd was coming over because he was bored he still managed to drag himself through the door or a window if he was so inclined.
So why not today?
"Not having a good day?" You try softly, he walks into your lounge with an eerie quiet about him. The last time you saw him something very nice happened, so you can't exactly say you are too worried but. It still sucks to see someone you care about in distress.
"Kinda." Floyd doesn't look like he had much of a plan now that he's in your dorm. "Had a lot on my mind is all."
"Aw that's no fun." You both stand doing nothing for what feels like an hour but you're sure is only a few seconds. "Do you uh want to talk about it?"
"..." And just like that Floyd feels really silly. He wanted to see you so that's why he came, but he wants to be as far away from these painful feelings as possible. "I kind of want to take a nap."
"Oh?" You don't sound surprised, but are clearly confused. Floyd begins to head towards the guest room without looking back. The guest room feels like you just enough that it can soothe his longing and distance himself from his internal conflict. "Would you like to use my room?" Or he could just not be allowed to distance himself at all because you could just say- "I've got some stuff to do but I can join you af-"
"Are you fucking serious." Floyd's voice is dangerously low and he is dangerously close to your face like you have said something wrong. "Look Shrimpy-" He swallows, like he's really considering what it is he has to say so he breathes and just goes for it "Yuu. You're killin me with this. Humans are already so fucking confusing. I give ya a shell and you get all cold for a week, and now, now you wanna sleep with me?" He pouts at you, like your suggestion had been scandalous. "'s like you think we're together or something."
"... we're not?" That's the only thing you can think to say even though the fact you have to say it answers the question for you.
"No?" Now Floyd sounds confused. "Ya- you can't do this to meeeeeeee." Despite his protests he seems just fine with grabbing onto you and dragging you into an embrace and resting his cheek on your head so you can't see his face anymore. "There's supposed to be a process to these things ya know? I'm supposed to give you gifts, and then you're supposed to give me some back and then I tell you I love you but every time I tried that I said something stupid instead. Like 'oh wow the moon looks beautiful tonight or some shit." He huffs and he puffs and he waits for you to say something. But you don't, you take a deep breath.
And laugh.
"Is this fucking funny to you?" Floyd is taken so a back he lets go of you only to find you laughing harder. You stand and reach to cup his face. Floyd doesn't like being squeezed, but there's something about the light squish you give to his cheeks that he likes, he likes a lot.
"No- well maybe a little bit. It's just, I knew. I knew what you were trying to say." Yuu says it like it is the most obvious thing in the world, like it's something Floyd should have known all along. "I owe you an apology, I should have asked, made sure you knew. In my world, it's sometimes considered too forward to say 'I love you' so instead..." You close the distance between you once more, leaving just enough room that Floyd can back away from you if he wants, "instead we say 'the moon looks beautiful tonight.'" Floyd takes in a deep, deep breath and you wait. The anger and frustration slowly fades as he exhales, shoulders sagging as he searches your face for signs.
"The moon looks beautiful tonight." He says it slowly, voice dipping low with the same strange gravity it had the first time he said it.
"It does, doesn't it?" You smile, and Floyd finally reaches for you, arms wrapped much more loosely than you ever thought possible.
"You're really mean sometimes ya know that." As if he doesn't find that attractive.
Kalim
What He Says:
Sometimes you worry about Kalim. He has this way of talking about things that, if it had been anyone else who said it, should be a major cause for concern. But because Kalim seems relatively happy most all of the time and has a family with a bunch of money no one really makes much of a fuss about it.
So when he says, off handedly, completely as a joke, that you should listen to his worries sometimes you don't give him a chance to play it off. You sit up from where you had been lying down in the Scarabia Lounge and move just a bit closer to where Kalim is relaxing so he can see how serious you are.
"Of course you can talk to me if you have worries." Your voice must have been abnormally serious because Kalim doesn't respond immediately. At first you wonder if the noise of the party behind you had somehow drowned out what you said but then you see Kalim's face. He looks conflicted, as if there is something he desperately wants to say, but instead he looks at you with a smile.
"I don't really have any." But he doesn't laugh when he says it, not that he sounds unhappy exactly just thoughtful. He doesn't move away from you either.
"Even if it's something you think might be silly," you say slowly forcing yourself to continue even as Kalim looks away "of if you're able to dismiss them. If something makes you sad for even a moment, you can tell me. I won't offer my opinion if that's not something you want, or won't help, I can still listen."
"You're really insistent about this huh?" Kalim sits up now too and you turn to look up at the stars decorating Scarabia's night sky. You wonder briefly about how exactly they might have gotten that to work when he says it. "The moon is beautiful tonight." He sounds so wistful but it's gone in a blink as he reaches for your hand and doesn't let you respond to his admission. "C'mon! Let's take the magic carpet and get a better look." You try to contain your excitement as he lets you lace your fingers together and doesn't even try to let go.
What He Breaks (1 week later):
Technically, Kalim isn't the one who breaks. He notices, of course he notices, the way you are more comfortable in seeking him out. How comfortable you now are with his casual touches, how willing you are to hold his hand and even give it a little squeeze. It's heaven, like he found the treasure cave the Sorcerer of the Sands had searched so long for. If it was up to him he would have let it go a little longer.
But it isn't exactly up to him, it never is. Not that Jamil looks angry exactly, but then again as Kalim has come to accept he's not the best at reading his moods.
"I thought you said you weren't going to ask Yuu out?" No Jamil sounds confused and Kalim fidgets with his bracelet under his questioning stare because he knows what he's about to say will probably actually make him mad.
"I didn't." Jamil takes a deep breath and Kalim immediately waves his hands to try and soothe him. "Promise! I remember everything you said about wanting to know and I agree it's just... are you sure you aren't misreading things? That Yuu isn't just... comfortable around me now?"
"... it's always a possibility given just how weird the prefect can be, but no. I'm pretty sure you must have said something that's given them the wrong impression." Jamil sighs and rubs his chin thoughtfully. "It's going to be awkward, but you should probably clear things up with them and tell them how you really feel."
"You mean tell them I'm not allowed to-"
"Like I said before," Jamil actually smiles now, and Kalim really hopes it's real "it's not my place to tell you who you can and cannot date. Sure your parents might have an idea about what they want you to do, but you and I know that a political marrige would never really work for you. It's just not how you're built." And with that he leaves Kalim to his thoughts.
~~~~
"Have you ever considered throwing smaller parties?"
"Haha this is a smaller party~ I only invited you and your freshmen friends." So Kalim says and so you see, but you suppose everything Kalim does comes from a rather skewed sense of small. It's nice to look out on though, Ace is amusing one of your other classmates with his card tricks while Jack and Deuce take turns at arm wrestling. Epel even manged to get Sebek to participate in something, though he might have regretted making it an eating contest. And above it all, tucked away in a little alcove, Kalim rests his head on your shoulder and hums along with the music playing through his dormitory loudspeakers. It feels domestic in a way despite the grandiose display around you.
"It's very nice Kalim." You lean your head on top of his and he sighs in contentment. "But you said there was a worry you wanted to tell me about?"
"Mhm. I'm worried I said something accidentally that made you realize that I liked you." If he wasn't holding you so intimately his words would have been like ice water over your self confidence. You still cringe and Kalim laughs slightly, happily holding you just a bit closer. "Hey I didn't say that I don't like you, I just want to make sure you understand what that means. I could put you in a lot of danger you know?"
"More than half a dozen overblots?" You lightly joke but Kalim just hugs you a little harder at the thought. "We'll cross those bridges when we come to them, it doesn't make me love you any less. After all," you press a gentle kiss to his forehead and smile as he shakes in happiness "the moon looks beautiful tonight." Kalim gives a little gasp.
"Oh that's a wonderful way to say it!"
Jamil
What He Says:
"I get that your world is a bit behind ours because it doesn't have magic, but really?"  Jamil's voice lacks the usual venom that would accompany his teasing if he hadn't been the one to propose this idea.  "Wanting to make a mix tape has got to make you practically per-historic."   You try to suppress your own smile as you watch him work from across the floor.
"I prefer vintage."  Your smile breaks free as Jamil finally laughs, you wonder if he knows just how beautiful he is as he swipes a misbehaving hair out of his eyes and gives his stereo another once over.  "I'll have you know making mixtapes have a long and storied tradition in my world."  You keep some of the possible implications to yourself, and try to pretend the concept hasn't been swirling around in you brain since he first suggested this.  "Why aren't you using magic to clean it?"
"Because I get to keep you here longer."  The words dance on the tip of his tongue and he forces them away with a smile.
"It's old, and I don't really want to go searching for a new one if I break something."  The lie has just enough of a trace of truth to fool you, but Jamil isn't one for taking chances.  "Aren't you supposed to be looking for stuff you like?  You won't get that by staring at me."
"Not like I'm going to find anything till your done cleaning."  You snort and finally take your distracting eyes away from him and direct them to his tapes.  "I don't know any of this stuff."  But you can still tell this collection is pretty impressive.  Some of the tapes look newer, but there are others that while well cared for are clearly old.  Album art featuring sandy landscapes and people posing is sandwiched between vaporwave cartoons and aesthetically confusing 3-d models.  This belongs to Jamil so you have a feeling it's organized, but you can't tell how.  Not that he leaves you wondering for long lightly taps your nose with a new cotton swab and nudges your pouting face towards a specific section of the box.
"Here, I set some aside based off the kind of music you said you liked."  And some that just reminded him of you, but that's nothing you need to know, yet if ever.  "Anything else you can think of?"
"Do you have any songs about the moon?"  The question pops out of your mouth before the thought that birthed it is fully formed, making you stumble over your explanations.   "Yeah go ahead and laugh there's just... this one song I miss."  It makes you think of him, from the few words you can remember.  You've written it down again and again to try and make sure you don't forget them, but the tune has begun escaping you; much like all your memories of home will one day be fragmented, not that the reality makes it hurt any less.  "I'm worried I'll forget what my moon looks like."  Jamil's amused confusion remains, but his eyes soften in response to your distress.
"Is there a specific reason you need the song?  Yo- The moon is beautiful tonight, do you need the exact song to see it?"  Jami
"N-no."  Your voice shakes.  Neither of you move to look away, what gives you the strength to move yourself to sit next to him you don't know.  But he doesn't move away and you let out a deep breath from sheer and relief and joy.  "I think I'll be able to see it just fine next to you."
What He Breaks (two months later):
Things have been going missing from Jamil's room lately. Nothing he actually needs really, the sort of little things you would take if you were really desperate to remember the feel of a person. The sort of things you would take if you were dating that person, which isn't at all the thought he would have had if he didn't know who was taking them. Not that Jamil could come up with a reason for Yuu to be taking these things, his first thought had been to take something of Yuu's the next time he visited Ramshackle, but that seemed to make you happy. "Fair game" he'd thought. "I want an excuse to see you and you want an excuse to see me."
Still he wasn't prepared for this.
"Jamil!" there is something refreshing about how calm your happiness is. You've always had a way of extending that calm to him, wrapping him in it and allowing him some space to breathe. But today, today. Today the Ramshackle Prefect has decided that he wasn't allowed peace, because yesterday they had stolen his sweatshirt, and today they have decided to wear it. "Everything ok?
"ha." Jamil wants to tug the hood of his dorm uniform over his head. He wants to run, he wants to shake you, he wants to scream. He wants to do a three act play complete with an interpretive dance because that would be easier than trying to speak. But he has to, because there's only so many deep breaths he can take before you reach out to make sure he's ok. So he takes your hand in his as you do and places it directly over his heart. "You know," for some reason he finds it easier to smile now that you know how nervous he is "you can't have taken that without knowing what people might say."
"Oh I don't know." You smile and bring yourself into his space, that strange calm he finds in your happiness begins to weave itself around him again. "Maybe I wanted to clear some things up. Make it good and clear where I belong." Jamil takes another deep breath, your arms go around him and he makes sure to look long and good into your eyes to make sure there isn't a shred of a crimson glow. That this is something you have decided of your own free will and not a dream or an accident involving magic.
"I never properly asked you out..." Technically he never asked you out at all, but Jamil would rather die than say that out loud. Maybe sometime long long in the future when he's ready to laugh at it and not now when he needs you to confirm that's what you thought he did in the first place.
"Oh! That's not-" You bury your face in his chest with a light laugh and he tries not to die in the time between the seconds until you respond. "I was so happy to hear you say the moon line it didn't really occur to me you might be worried about that."
"Who wouldn't?" Not that he's worried now, every other possibility has been ruled out so he can say exactly what he's been wanting to for so long. "Will you be mine?"
"I already was." It sounds so much better outloud than he could have ever dreamed.
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huskersbooze · 29 days
Text
Sick
Alastor x Reader
Summary : You get sick and Alastor keeps you company <3
Warnings : Swearing(lots of it)
Pairings : Alastor x F!Reader (M!Reader here)
Additional Tags : ALASTOR POV CUZ YES. Sick reader, implied relationship, h/c, fluff, comfort
Word count : 1.01k
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“Hey, you alright, kid?” Husk tilts his head to the side, wiping down the last glass of the day.
You don’t respond. Instead, you’re staring off into the distance, dozing off in your own world.
“Kid?”
“Huh? What?” You finally snap out of your thoughts.
“Geez, ya’ look like hell.” Husk acknowledges. “Are you sick?”
“I don’t know.” You shrug. “I don’t think so?”
“Go rest. I’ll work alone today.”
“What? No! I’m fine I swear-” Before you’re able to finish your sentence, Husk flips you off.
“Bullshit. Go find your radio boyfriend.”
“Don’t bullshit me-”
You try arguing but Husk only smirks when he catches a glimpse of Alastor who’s appeared right behind you.
“Well, I just did.” He says. “Now stop being so stubborn.”
“I’m not being stubborn I-” 
You feel a hand being put to your forehead and try to fight back, only to realise it was Alastor.
“High fever.” He lets go. “You’re being stubborn.”
“Oh, fuck you, Al.”
“We’ll fuck when you’re better, darling.”
You blush. Alastor grins. Husk tries to hold in a laugh but ultimately fails.
“You’re sick and you need rest, my dear. Come along.”
“I’m fine-”
Alastor can only sigh, picking you up as you yelp.
“This is completely, and utterly, your fault single-handedly.” He smiled as you pouted. “You're very much welcome, darling.”
“Whatever.”
-----
You managed to escape Alastor as he leaves to mess with Vox. (Ep2 lmao)
Upon returning to the bar, Husk was not pleased to see your ass out of bed, emphasising on how important sleep was to someone sick.
You couldn’t care less.
Though, after wiping down a few more bottles with him, your eyes doze off and your eyelids feel droopy.
“Kid?”
The world spins and fades away.
“Fuck! Kid, ya’ alright?! Alastor!”
-----
[Alastor’s pov]
I heard a little groan as my eyes widened.
"Darling." I whispered, hoping not to startle her.
"Al..?" She breathed out.
"Good morning." I joked, though so grateful she was now awake.
"Wha.. What time is it?" She asked, struggling to get up.
"Be careful." I ushered, helping her sit. "I'm not so sure myself. It's very late at night."
"Where am I?" She asked, finally waking up as she stopped slurring through her words. 
"My room. ‘I’m not sick’ my arse." I replied.
"Oh. Well, I guess you and Husk were right. I just thought I was a little sick." She murmured. 
"You are sick." I replied. "Just worse than you expected."
"Real humorous, Al." She gave a small, yet weak, giggle.
Silence filled the air between us, and we didn't say anything else after that. That was, until she gave a small sneeze. I could tell she tried to suppress it, but seeing it was late at night and so quiet, it was hard not to notice.
"Are you cold?" I asked. I could barely make out the silhouette of her nodding lightly. Without hesitating, I took off my coat and handed it over to her. "Better?"
"A lot. Thanks, Al." She replied. After another few seconds of silence, she spoke up once more. "Why aren’t you asleep?"
"You do remember your dear partner does not need, nor does he enjoy, sleep?"
"Excuse, excuses." She joked, earning a chuckle from me.
"I can't really sleep now." She suddenly says out of nowhere. One thing I really like about this girl, she says the most random things in the most random situations. "Could we do something else?"
"Are you trying to get me killed?" I laughed. "You need to rest."
"I'm aware. That's the initial plan, anyways." She joked. At least, I hoped she was joking.
"You sneaky little deer."
"Yes. That's me. Hello." She replied, sitting on the edge of the bed with her legs crossed as she proceeded to look at me in the dark room. “Besides, it’s not like anyone here at the Hotel is actually powerful enough to kill you.”
"Very well, then. What do you have in mind?"
“Some jazz and cuddles would be nice.”
-----
She chokes on another cough.
"Are you sure you're alright? You should really rest in such vulnerable state."
"I'm," Another cough. "Fine. I swear."
"If you insist."
After a while, I turned to face her, worried she wasn't enjoying herself anymore, only to find her sound asleep, clinging lightly to my shirt. See? I told you were sleepy. You just refused to listen to me. I stopped and watched the girl, moving little by little, afraid of waking her up.
She looked so peaceful. Though, it wouldn't be the first time I find her sleeping in my presence. I tugged a small strand of hair behind her ear as she shifted a little. I immediately paused. Shit, had I woken her? Though she soon returned to her slumber and she curled up into a ball in front of me.
I suppose this would suffice.
"Goodnight, darling." I whispered softly, laying next to her in the bed. "See you in the morning."
-----
[2nd person]
You awoke early in the morning, feeling well rested. Your bed was awfully more comfortable than you had remembered. You sat up and rubbed your eyes, finally opening them for the first time, only to find that you weren't in your own room. It took you a while to let things simmer in.
That's when you heard snoring next to you.
You turned to find the Radio Demon cuddled into a ball next to you in bed sleeping oh so soundly. The poor man probably hadn't had sleep in days. Before you could process what was happening, you checked the time and realized you had to be back at the bar for work in 5 minutes. Not wanting to wake Alastor up, you left him a quick note to thank him and left.
----
The whole day passed and you never caught sight of Alastor. After closing the bar, you headed to Alastor’s room,hoping to find him there.
You stop at his door and break out a tiny laugh.
On the door, a rushed sign saying — Sick. Keep out.
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noosayog · 2 months
Text
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003 an unexpectedly sweet valentine
❥ warnings/content: kuroo tetsuro x reader, sfw, slight angst if you squint, mostly fluff, jealousy
❥ wc: 3.4k
❥ valentine's masterlist, regular masterlist
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“Good morning, senpai!” 
Your senior of one year turns around as he changes from his outside shoes to his inside shoes. “Huh? Oh, morning.” 
“It’s raining hard today, huh?” 
“Oh, yeah. Sure is.” 
“Did you bring an umbrella?” 
“Nah, forgot it.” 
“Aw, too bad! I remembered mine today!” 
“Good for you.” 
The conversation comes to a lull. Senpai stands there looking at you, as if to ask, anything else?
Somewhat awkward, you wave to him. “Have a good day, then!” 
He nods, turning away to make his way to his first class of the day. 
“Wowwww,” a voice from above you drawls. “That was a painful watch.” 
You swivel around to face Kuroo, your classmate. 
“Shut up, Kuroo,” you growl at him. 
“‘Morning Senpai! Have a good day Senpai!’” He mocks you in a high pitched voice. 
You give him a swift kick in the shins, satisfied when he bends over to cradle the spot. 
Kenma appears from behind him, shaking off the stray droplets clinging to his hair. “You deserved that.” 
“Morning, Kenma,” you snicker.
Kenma returns your greeting, heading off to his own class in the year below yours and Kuroo’s. 
A tap on your shoulder gets your attention. “Sorry about him. He’s just in a bad mood because of the rain.” 
“Kai-kun!” you greet. “It’s okay. You don’t have to apologize for this idiot.” 
“Hey!” the idiot in question protests. 
Another head pops out from behind Kai. “What’s going on? Talking rooster head trash? That’s a conversation I can contribute to.”  
“Morning, Yakkun.” 
“Can we not talk about me like I’m not here?” Kuroo complains. 
“Shall we head to class?” Kai asks, easily ignoring him. 
“Yep!” 
“Hello? We’re all in the same class here!” Kuroo wails as he runs after the three of you.
In your homeroom, Kuroo, Yaku, and Kai all head to their seats as you take yours by the window. You greet your friends who sit by you, excited to ramble about your encounter with the cool Senpai from the basketball team whom you’ve recently developed a crush on.
“What do you like about that guy anyway?” your friend asks. 
“What do you mean? There’s so much to like!” 
She gives you a dubious look. “For example…?”
You start counting on your fingers. “Well, he’s captain of the basketball team, so he’s tall-”
“You like him because he’s tall?”
“He’s older, so he’s more mature-”
“Right,” she nods sarcastically. “Being a year older makes him so mature.” 
With two fingers up, you’ve run out of reasons. Your friend rolls her eyes at you. 
“Personally, I prefer the volleyball guys in our class.” 
“Kai-kun?” you nod empathetically. “I can totally see that. He’s kind and smart. Yakkun, too. He’s energetic and outgoing.” 
“Kuroo’s included in that group too, you know.” 
You wrinkle your nose. 
“What’s your beef with him? He’s tall, smart. Lots of people in our grade would say he’s funny too. He’s actually pretty popular.” 
You shake your head, “the most that guy has going for him is his friendship to Kenma. I can totally see someone getting close to him so that he’ll introduce them.” 
Your friend just shrugs patronizingly, like you’re beyond reasoning with. 
“Anyway,” you switch topics. “Senpai forgot his umbrella today, and it’s going to rain all day. I’m going to watch basketball practice afterschool and offer to share my umbrella with Senpai on the way home. Wanna come with?”
“Pass.” 
You shrug. “Suit yourself.” 
– 
“Did you hear that?” Yaku elbows Kuroo, whispering not very quietly.
Kuroo swipes at the elbow, rubbing his ribs and mumbling for Yaku to keep it down. 
“Damn, what’d you do? She thinks you’re such a loser.” 
“Gee, thanks,” Kuroo grits out. 
Yaku holds his hands up in surrender. “Just pointing out the facts.” 
“Hey, now. Let’s not be too hasty,” Kai cuts in. “It might just be a temporary infatuation with the basketball club guy. There’s still hope!” 
Kuroo groans and slumps forehead first onto his desk. Even when Kai is trying to be nice, it makes him feel so pathetic. 
When the final class of the day ends, Kuroo lingers in the classroom, still racking his brain for an excuse to keep you from going to the basketball club. He trails after you as you get up to leave the classroom. 
You’re taking a drink of water when Kuroo watches your friend shoulder into you a bit too hard, leaving you to stumble backwards, hands flailing to keep your balance. The uncapped water bottle in your hands goes flying into Kuroo, dumping its contents into the bag in his hands, containing the spare jerseys the volleyball team had planned on using for practice matches today. 
Kuroo drops the bag, arms coming up to support your back and keep you upright. 
When you’re stable on your feet, you quickly pick up your water bottle to staunch the flow of water, though it doesn’t matter much anymore given the jerseys are all soaked through. 
“Hey! What did you do that for?” you scold your friend. You turn to Kuroo, “thanks and sorry…” you trail off, not knowing how to remedy the situation. 
When Kuroo catches the wink your friend sends him, he catches on. “Aww man, now what’re we going to do for practice?” 
Yaku cuts in. “Oh, it’s fine. We can just use the spare-” 
Kai slaps a hand over Yaku’s big mouth, dragging him off towards the gym. “We’ll head to practice first. Why don’t you figure out the situation, Kuroo?” 
“Kuroo, I’m so sorry, but this was all her fault. Hey-” You turn to where your friend was standing, but she’s gone.
“We needed these for today’s practice. You’re just gonna have to help me out with the laundry to get these dried before the 3v3 drills then.” 
You pull a very displeased expression, mumbling something Kuroo can’t quite hear but is definitely a curse out of your friend. 
“Can’t I please make it up to you some other way? I have really important plans today.” 
Sure, as if trying to suck up to that basketball captain counts as really important plans. 
“All you have to do is toss these in the dryer and wait until they’re done. It’s the least you can do.” 
You offer a begrudging, “fine,” hauling the wet bag and following behind a triumphant Kuroo. 
As promised, it takes you less than an hour to dry the jerseys, passing the time by watching the volleyball club boys warm up and run drills. As you pull the jerseys out of the machine, Kuroo meets you by the locker room. 
“All done! Now can I-” 
“Man, it took too long to dry them. We had to restructure our drills since it’s too late to start practice matches now.”
You pinch the bridge of your nose. “Look, Kuroo. I’m sorry, but I have no say over how long a dryer cycle is.” 
“I know. It just really put us in a hard spot, especially given that Nationals are around the corner…” he sighs audibly. “But it’s fine, I know it’s not totally your fault.” He sighs again. 
“Ok, ok” you give in. “What can I do to make up for it?” 
It takes all of Kuroo’s willpower to suppress a victorious grin. “Hmmm,” he pretends to deliberate. “Aha!” he exclaims. “You could be our manager until Nationals are over. That’d help the team and Coach Nekomata out a lot.” 
You hesitate. “Manager? Why don’t you just find a permanent one? Everyone says you’re all popular-”
“Everyone?” he smirks. 
“Yeah. Personally, I don’t really get it, but,” you miss the slight dimming of his grin. “I’m sure there’s someone out there who’d be more willing… I mean, more helpful than I would be.” 
“Figures that you’d try to weasel your way out of this.” 
“Weasel my way- wait just a second-” 
“It’s fine,” Kuroo cuts you off, turning around to leave you there. “You’re right, we’ll just find someone who’s more responsible.” 
“Hold on, Kuroo!” you grab the back of his jacket, pulling him back. 
This time, the grin on Kuroo’s face spreads in full force. 
“I’ll do it. I am not irresponsible.” 
“Great, you can start tomorrow.” 
You cross your arms over your chest, huffing indignantly like you’re satisfied that you’ve restored your reputation, your plans to be alone with basketball-senpai completely forgotten. 
Hook, line, sinker. 
Your job as the volleyball club manager is actually enjoyable. Save for the extended time you now need to spend in Kuroo’s company, you make friends with the rest of the team, especially the enthusiastic younger class. 
During lunch time, Kuroo will often request that you join Kai, Yaku, and him on the roof. 
“Why? I deserve freedom from you outside of volleyball club hours.” 
“Interesting that your commitment to taking the position of manager only extends to certain hours.” 
“What? Slander! I’m committed-” 
“We were going to discuss and review our plays from previous games, but I guess we’ll manage without you. Just hand me the notebook and we’ll review without you-” 
You stand abruptly, slamming your palms on your desk. With the notebook in question in hand, you storm past him, making your way to the roof access stairs without another word. 
“Well?” you demand when Kuroo doesn’t follow. “Are we going or what?” 
Kuroo grins. “Coming.” 
In your indignation, you fail to ever catch the grins from Yaku, Kai, and your friends. 
Sometimes, those lunches end up being just you and Kuroo, Yaku and Kai often being called away halfway through. Once all volleyball business is complete, you and Kuroo finish eating in relative peace. Often, he lies down to spend the rest of break napping. You tell yourself it’s too awkward to leave him there without a word, so you sit quietly to keep him company. 
One time, you had awoken to a sound of a camera shutter, realizing belatedly that you had fallen asleep on Kuroo’s shoulder. When you crane your head to face the boy in question, eyes wide and swiping at your lip in case you were drooling, you’re met with the usual smug grin on his lips, but his eyes are warm. Instead of smacking him and throwing a scatching remark, your cheeks heat up and you avert your eyes like an embarrassed schoolgirl.
When February rolls around, the entire student body is buzzing with the excitement of Valentine’s Day. You haven’t had any more development with basketball senpai, with your time mostly preoccupied with volleyball, but you’ve long standing plans to make Senpai chocolate. You’ve done research by asking around to find out that Senpai likes dark chocolate. 
“Have you thought about making the volleyball boys chocolate?” Mari asks you. 
“Yep, I plan to.” 
“And Kuroo?”
You choke on your water. “Why would you single him out? Of course… because he’s a part of the volleyball boys…” you trail off. 
Your friend props her chin on her palm, expression bored but the corner of her lips twitch. “Uh huh,” she says in obvious disbelief. 
Your inner turmoil is exacerbated when Kenma says to you, the day before Valentines, “despite his looks, he likes sweeter chocolate.” 
“Who?” 
Kenma just gives you a look, waving as he makes his way home. 
The following day, you show up to school, hands full with all the chocolates you made the night before. Each bag is wrapped in an individual baggie with a white ribbon except for one that is wrapped special, in a small box with red ribbon.
For Senpai, obviously. 
Your first stop of the day is your friend. You hand her a bag and she smiles, quickly opening it and popping it in her mouth right in front of you. 
“What do you think?” you ask. 
“Mmmm,” she closes her eyes, savoring the sweet treat. “So sweet. Milk chocolate? Weren’t you going on about how Senpai likes dark chocolate?” 
“I… made different batches.” you lie. You brandish the box with the red ribbon. “Senpai’s was made special.” 
“Still sticking to giving that boring Senpai chocolate, huh?” 
“He is not boring!” 
“Sure, whatever.” She peeks into your bag to look at the array of all the baggies you plan on giving out today. She looks up at the red ribbon box in your hands then back into your bag. “Just that one box? And it’s for Senpai?” 
“... yup.” 
“What was that pause?” 
“What pause?” 
She just rolls her eyes and turns back to her textbook. 
– 
“Did you hear that? It’s for the basketball guy.” Yaku elbows Kuroo’s ribs. 
“Can you stop elbowing me?” 
“That’s not important right now! She’s still going to give that guy chocolate!” 
“I know, I heard,” Kuroo hisses. 
Kai gives Kuroo a pitiful look that ticks him off. “What are you going to do?” 
“What is there to do?” Kuroo replies, keeping his eyes focused on the homework he has on his desk. “I’m going to grab a drink from the vending machines. Be right back.” 
He gets up to walk to the furthest vending machine in the courtyard. Maybe the walk and the winter air from the garden will help him cool his head. 
When he gets back with a can of tea in his hands, Kuroo sees you standing at his desk, where Kai and Yaku are still loitering around before class starts. He watches you hand each of them a bag tied tastefully with white ribbon. He lingers in the shadow of the doorway, watching Yaku and Kai thank you, then you walking back to your desk without leaving a third bag for Kuroo. 
He feels like he could use another walk right then, but the teacher catches him in the doorway and pushes Kuroo into the classroom to start class for the day. 
He makes eye contact with Kai and Yaku, who shake their heads at him, answering his unasked question. 
At lunch, Kuroo disappears on his own. He thinks to himself that he just needs the time to cool down, in fear that he’d embarrass himself in front of you by asking where his portion of chocolate is. He would feel bad enough if you just handed him giri-chocolate that you have everyone else. He would die, though, if you said you didn’t prepare him any at all. 
As he sits alone in the rarely frequented stairwell of the west wing of campus, he sighs. 
What does that guy have that he doesn’t anyway? Every conversation Kuroo has overheard between you two has been terribly boring. He gives dry, one-worded answers. He’s not funny nor particularly smart. He’s tall but so is Kuroo? Maybe he’s good at his sport, but Kuroo is taking his team to Nationals. He’s obviously not into you, whereas Kuroo himself? You get the picture. 
Anyway, he doesn’t think it very presumptuous to think of himself as a better match for you. The two of you joke and laugh together. You get along with his closest friends. Despite your sharp tongue, you seem to be comfortable enough around him. He reminisces of the one time you fell asleep on his shoulder on the roof. He had been wide awake and frozen solid, scared that even breathing too loudly would shatter the moment. He would never tell anyone that the photo Yaku had snapped of you drooling against his shoulder was saved in a password-protected folder in his phone. 
He sighs again, all the tension leaving his body as he lets himself feel all the feelings he’s been holding back. A heavy arm rests over his eyes, squeezing them tightly when he feels the sting behind his irises threatening to surface. 
Unable to pull himself together enough to face you in class, he ends up at the infirmary for the rest of the day, citing a headache. The nurse offers one of the beds and Kuroo gladly takes it, napping the afternoon away, a temporary escape from thoughts of you. 
The break is short-lived as he wakes up just in time for the last class of the day. Not even the prospect of his favorite subject, science, can improve his mood as he drags his feet to the lab classroom. He makes his way to Yaku and Kai’s table, not meeting your eyes. His teammates give him questioning looks but say nothing when Kuroo shakes his head and immerses himself in the lesson for the day. 
Class goes by even more quickly than normal and before he knows it, the dreaded time of day has arrived. He packs slowly, hating himself for wanting to eavesdrop on your plans for the rest of the afternoon. 
“So, what’s the plan?” he hears your friend ask you. “Volleyball or basketball?” 
“Not sure,” you reply. “Gotta go, see you tomorrow!” 
Kuroo watches as you hastily grab your things and leave the classroom. He ignores your friend’s prying eyes on him as he walks out after you. 
In the hallway, he spots you speeding away towards the shoe lockers. As he contemplates chasing after you, he hears a call of your name. 
Kuroo watches in mild horror when he finds that the voice belonged to the captain of the basketball team. His eyes stay glued to the boy who approaches you, all charming smiles and grinning snake eyes. The two of you are too far for Kuroo to hear your conversation but he can see your expression morphing into one of bashfulness. 
All his emotions spill over as the scene unfolds right in front of him in slow motion. He watches your hands dig into your pocket, making the motions to pull something out and likely hand it to your senpai. It all happens so quickly, but before he knows it, Kuroo’s grabbing your hand and dragging you away. 
Something - wind? His boiling hot jealousy? - roars in his ears, any protests you let out going right over his head. It’s only when the two of you reach the garden behind the gymnasium that he lets go. 
He freezes, back still turned away from yours.
It hits him then. He drops your hand like a hot potato, almost giving into the overwhelming urge to bury his face in his hands, crouch down so low that he’s buried in the ground. 
“Kuroo?” he hears you call tentatively. 
How was he going to get himself out of this one? 
So he does what he does best with you. 
Cower. 
He turns around, putting two hands behind his head to feign nonchalance. He forces out a laugh and in the lightest voice he could possibly muster at a time like this, he sticks his foot in this mouth. 
“You were gonna give your chocolates to that senpai, huh? You better be glad I interrupted and saved you the embarrassment of getting rejected in front of the entire student body.” 
You blink at him. “Excuse me?” 
“I mean, I really saved that guy back there. Knowing your cooking skills, you might as well have poisoned him-” 
A box thrown at his face interrupts him. He catches it before the fall to the ground, staring at the offending hand that launched the item. He then looks to you, thoughtless as your eyes begin to water. 
“They’re for you, asshole. If you don’t want ‘em so badly, go throw them away for all I care.”
As you turn around and storm off, Kuroo sees one of your hands coming up to rub angrily at your face. 
He gives chase once more today. It’s easy to catch up as he gets in front of you, face craning to look at you, to validate that he’s not going crazy and you’re really crying over him. 
You turn away stubbornly until Kuroo grabs your arms, holding them up in the air to trap you. 
“Let go!” you thrash. 
But it’s easy for Kuroo to keep them still, unusually quiet as he looks and looks until he gets his fill and confirms that he’s not dreaming. 
“They’re for me?” he asks. 
“Yes, you idiot. Do you wanna add deaf to your list of defining characteristics? It can be right up there with moronic, insensitive, stupid-” 
He chuckles; he doesn't even know where it came from, really. 
Relaxing, he lowers your arms back down but keeps his hold. “And are they the ones you made for all your friends? Or are they…” he trails off, staring into your eyes to get his meaning across. 
You cringe, neck shrinking to retract your face into your scarf. Averting your eyes, you mutter, “the second one.” 
He suddenly engulfs you in his arms. The squeeze he gives you forces a little squeal from you. 
“Oh my god,” he rubs his cheek against the top of your head like an overgrown cat. “You’re so cute, I could die.” 
Your cheeks feel hot as you repress the urge to smile. 
Instead, you mumble, “die then.” 
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