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#and i do promise i will get to the rest of them in my inbox as well
allylikethecat · 5 months
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omg more prompts!! would love to see matty holding hands with george while he’s stressed out about something and then maybe later laying his head in george’s lap🥺
HELLO THERE ANON,
You sent me this WONDERFUL intimacy prompt literally three months ago, BUT I finally did it, I finally filled it! Better late than never? Right? I want to apologize though for taking so long to get to it, and thank you so much for sending it in. I hope that you're still around to see the response! I ended up combining the two- I hope that was okay! Please let me know what you think! Additionally, if anyone else wants to send in any intimacy prompts, the list can be found here. I can't guarantee that it won't take me three months to finish the next one, but I promise that I *will* eventually. I really enjoy working on prompt fills and even if it takes me forever to actually sit down and write them, just know that I am in fact always thinking about them!
Thank you so much for requesting this prompt, your patience since I am the worst and it took me months, for reading, and for your continued support! I look forward to hearing what you think!
❤️Ally
WARNINGS: Reference to past drug abuse
Holding hands during a stressful situation & Resting your head on your partner's lap
Matty hated flying. He hated the drive to the airport. He hated that they were always, inevitably, caught in stop and go traffic that made his already nervous belly churn, nausea burning the back of his throat. He hated leaving his bag with the airline agent, the worry that it would get lost, that it would get stolen, that it wouldn’t make it to his final destination even as he obsessively tracked its air tagged location on his phone. He hated going through security and border control. He hated taking off his jacket, and shoving his backpack into the plastic bin. He hated the scrutiny of the security agents as they took in his tattoos and the scars on his arms. He was always, without fail, pulled for random, additional screening. He always tried to smile good naturedly, anxiety bubbling in his gut, even if he knew he wasn’t truly chosen at random, drug dogs sniffing his ankles as they swabbed his hands for explosives. At least he got to carry his own passport now, it was no longer in Jamie’s clutches as if he was going to run off to score the second he was left unattended. (He never had even considered fleeing an airport to score, however, he had considered fleeing an airport to run back to the flat he shared with George and hide under the covers of their bed.)
He hated making his way through the crowded terminal, people rushing around him, knocking into him, suffocating him as he tried to remember how to breathe. The straps of his backpack digging into his shoulder. He knew there would be a red mark on the skin when he sat it down, there always was. He loved their fans, he loved them more than anything, but he hated that he could feel their eyes on him as he moved through the airport, taking pictures of him with his eyes downcast, the brim of his baseball hat pulled low as if it would be able to fully hide his mop of curls. Only for the pictures to end up on Twitter moments later, which led to more eyes seeking his location. The braver ones would approach him and ask for a picture with him rather than just of him from a distance. He would force a smile, his arm stiffly around their shoulders as he tried to focus on his breathing, his palms sweating as every fiber of his being screamed danger and run. He hated that they always seemed to be assigned the gate furthest away from the main artery of the terminal. He hated that his anxiety meant he needed to lay eyes on the gate, that he needed to verify that it was real before he could wait with the rest of their group in the lounge. 
He hated that once he had dropped off his bag, and made it through security, and checked on his gate, that it was time to wait. Matty was not a patient person, he was even less patient when he was stressed, wanting things the way he wanted them right this instant. Demanding, George had called him one time with an amused smile and love shining in his eyes.
At this particular instant, he was both stressed and demanding, gripping George’s hand as if it was the only thing keeping him tethered to this earth as he dragged him through the crowded corridor towards their gate. He was more stressed than even his usual airport levels of airport anxiety. He hadn’t slept the night before, tossing and turning, worrying about the ten hour flight from LA to London they would be embarking on the next morning, popping piece after piece of nicotine gum as they inched towards departures in their rental van. They had played the last show of the tour the night before, and Matty was burnt out and ready to go home. Once at the airport, he had been, as usual, pulled for additional screening, the man that patted him down rough and inconsiderate. He had been stopped by a duo of fans less than five minutes later, forcing a smile as he tried to swallow down anxious tears threatening to spill. His heart was pounding in his chest, and his blood rushing in his ears as a man speaking loudly on the phone bumped into him, splashing him with iced coffee.
“You’re okay,” George soothed, giving Matty’s sweaty hand a comforting squeeze of his own, as the man turned away from them, glaring, as if they were the ones not watching where they were going. He swiped his thumb reassuringly against the back of Matty’s hand. 
“The gate is just up ahead,” George said, pointing with his free hand to B37. “We still have an hour ‘til boarding.” 
Matty nodded, wishing that seeing the gate with his own eyes would have loosened some of the tension in his chest, the way it usually did. George gave his hand another squeeze and Matty swallowed hard. George had calluses on his fingers and across his palm from years of playing the drums professionally, Matty loved that they slotted perfectly against his own guitarists calluses. Matty loved that George’s hands were so much bigger than his own, dwarfing his hand, his fingers wrapping fully around his own, engulfing them, protecting them from the outside world. He loved that even when he was shaking, even when his palms were disgustingly damp and sweaty, George never let go. He might have been the one clinging to George, but really, George was the one holding onto him. He closed his eyes, and tried to focus on the feel, on the weight of George’s hand, intertwined with his own. He could still feel his heart beating in his ears, but he no longer felt like he was going to drift away, like he was going to be pulled out to sea by the current and lost forever.
George pressed a gentle kiss to the side of Matty’s head. “Let's head up to the lounge, I would kill for a cup of coffee.” 
Matty let himself be led through the crowd, their hands connected as if George was the tugboat guiding Matty’s ship to shore. George showed their passes to the hostess and they were granted access, the rest of their group already sprawled out on the couches, bags at their feet, coffee in hand. Matty swallowed a yawn, he was exhausted, and knew that coffee would help, but he also knew he wouldn’t be able to stomach the acidic liquid at the moment.
Matty sat down on an open two seater. Matty hated that he had to let go of George’s hand as he made his way over to the coffee bar, pleased that they were reunited a moment later, a steaming paper cup in George’s hand. He dropped into the seat next to him and without thinking Matty found himself leaning over, not caring that technically they were in public, to rest his head in George’s lap. 
“I just want to go home,” Matty said softly as George tugged Matty’s hat off to run his fingers through the messy squashed curls. 
“Soon love,” said George, “we’ll be home soon.”
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ectoplasmer · 1 year
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*slides into your ask box* Sooooooo rainy something fun for your consideration.... 👀
Seto and I went out of our way to include traditions from both of our cultures in our wedding. One of the smaller ones from my side of the family (Welsh) was the myrtle in the bridal bouquet.
Traditionally, the bridal bouquet can be any combination of flowers, but should always include myrtle. And after the ceremony, that myrtle is carefully removed from the bouquet and distributed to the bridesmaids (and since I only had two actual maids, Honda and Ryou got included in this despite being men lol).
Each member of the bride's wedding party then plants the cutting of myrtle. If any of them take root, it's an auspicious sign for the party member's own romantic relationships... and the first person to have theirs do that is supposedly the next one to get married, sort of like an alternative version of a bouquet toss but just for the bride's party!
Sooooooo not that he's told me anything, buuuut guess whose once-little sprig of myrtle I saw growing into a thriving little houseplant in a nice big pot when I was at his house yesterday? 👀
—@dark-magical-ships 💙
…hhhhhh i’m sobbing into my hands AMATA… DUDE….
i stopped functioning for like a whole hour upon reading this the first time ANYWAY
first off I absolutely love learning little tidbits about different cultures and traditions from them like this; it’s very intriguing getting to compare them to each other and seeing how things differ and where they are similar. I actually think this is a super interesting way of doing a “bouquet toss” and is a much more engaging way of going about it :0
and secondly… aagshddnckd SOBS just the implications behind Ryou even participating in planting the myrtle in the first place is driving me INSANE i’m literally giggling just typing this >_< this is just me drawing conclusions, and it could always just be something as simple as him wanting to respect traditions, but… if he’s planted it and he’s actually put in the effort to take care of it to the point that the myrtle sprouted and grew… does that mean he’s actually thought about marriage? that maybe he’d even be open to it? to… marrying me??
Just… I don’t know what I could’ve ever done to be his girlfriend, what I could have possibly done to be this lucky, but to have Ryou even think about marrying me, or think about spending the rest of his life with me… this boy is going to be the literal death of me, I swear >////<
on a less sappy note… picturing ryou taking care of a houseplant is actually a very nice image <3
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hoseoksluna · 4 months
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BOOKWORMS | knj
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pairing: boyfriend!namjoon x reader
genre: smut; fluff
word count: 4.4k
summary: namjoon thinks of you when he reads a smut scene in his book.
warnings: boyfriend namjoon!!!, kimi namijoon reading, mentions of sex (riding), oral sex (f. receiving), nipple play, the importance of consent, teasing, raw sex, breeding kink <3, big dick namu!!, dom/sub dynamics, spanking, joonie's chain dangling in ur face, tummy bulge, creampie, bruising, hickeys, aftercare:(
note: it took blood, sweat and tears (hehe) to write this and i'm so happy it's finally here!! i loved writing about namjoon. he's my whole soul and the entirety of my heart and i have to write abt him again soon. please take your time reading this and enjoy urself! let me know what you think in the comments mwah (or tell me anonymously in my inbox) and as i always say please like and if u want to - reblog, but i won't pressure u baby. love love you!!
side note: if you want to jump straight to the smut, it's right under the asterisks &lt;;3
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You revel, you truly do, in seeing your boyfriend in such a serene state of mind. 
Nose buried in a book, Namjoon pays no mind to the surroundings fleeting by him with each flutter of his eyelashes. It goes unnoticed by him, strangely so, how you tidy up the apartment you share. How you feed the two cats that chose you and him to be their human parents. How you fondle their soft ears. How you bend over the furniture to whisper ‘pspsps’ at them when they need a moment away from you just to see their round eyes look up at you stupidly. Namjoon usually observes these moments; this utmost natural behavior of yours. He draws strength from the homeliness of it all with each and every swell of his lungs. Needs it to survive. That is until he gets a hold of that one papery portal and sits comfortably on the couch, one ankle propped over the knee. Then, he ceases to exist in this world. 
You’re happy for him. Over time, you’ve come to find that you have a certain fondness for the way he remains stoic. Because you always know what kind of book he’s reading, a smile blossoms on its own over the line of your lips whenever your eye catches the sculpture-like look on his face. It’s like even if he let himself hold his breath, his consciousness would waver back to the earth and the wretched awareness that he’s here, among mortals and the unfair capitalist system aftermath, would stream in his bloodstream, poisoning his experience. It takes the leisure out of it and makes the bed for misery instead. He doesn’t like it. Hates it, in fact. It’s a necessity that he focuses, as he embarks on the journey, because he does it for you.
Namjoon confides in his feelings and his literature with you almost on a daily basis. On the same couch, with the same cats snoring faintly, their small bodies spilling over the perimeter of your tangled legs. Doesn’t matter if it’s his thigh or the curve of your hip. The animals always find a warm crook to doze in, eavesdropping in, with their curious little ears, on the conversations you’re having. Though you reckon they like the meat of his thigh the best. You do, too. Can’t really blame them. The same serenity that intimately knows the person of Namjoon perceives the person of you when he prompts you to rest your head on his lap while he brushes his book-kissed fingers through the silky waterfall of your hair. Thoroughly explains the intricacies of the plot he’s invested in to you. Describes the characters as if they’re real people he’s become acquainted with. They are real to you as you listen. As you ask additional questions and gaze up at his eyes just to catch that one body of a shooting star fiery hot in the glossiness of his eyes. As you wonder, openly, what will happen to them.
“I’ll tell you when they tell me.” He sunk the promise onto the smooth skin of your forehead with the pucker of his lips.
It’s how you discovered, in all seriousness, that the plaster of his stoicism breaks during these literary moments.
Various colors of emotion tug and twist his features, the bare kind. The unrestrained kind. You know it’s a relief for him when the dam bursts open, soaking you in the beauty of humanness one only finds in literature these days. You can’t help but fall in love with him all over again when his eyebrows furrow. When his orbs nearly burn a hole in the ceiling when he’s trying to think of the right word that will ultimately help him convey the unfolding of the storyline. When he gives up and weaves English into his sentences, relying on his hands to say what his overstimulated brain fails to do. 
He reads to pass knowledge to you. The serenity whispered it into the chambers of your heart, a puff of hot breath in winter’s cold. It soothingly rubbed his shoulders when Namjoon told you there used to be a time when he couldn’t stand the sight of his books lining up the walls of his apartment. Wanted to burn it down and watch as the evidence of his melancholy dies in front of him. Because that’s what most of his book collection consisted of back then. The innermost shadowy faces of his pain. Loneliness. Sadness. Despair from life, from it not being enough for him, from it not saving a spot there for him–not once throughout the course of his life. That’s why he reads different kinds of books now. Ones that do not reflect his survival before you.
The reader has to get wiser, ruffled by life in order to gain more, gain what they need from those once deeply loved pages. It’s what the serenity believes. It’s what you believe and hope for Namjoon. That one day, somehow by the healing of the love you give him, he will look back and pick a souvenir from that moonless country of pain. Put it up somewhere between the spines of his new cluttered collection. Look at it from time to time and sense that it’s telling him something. Something that will fill the stitched-up cracks in his heart with sunlight. Something that he will pass over to you. It’s your love language after all. Namjoon reads because you read. It’s his own personal healing thing. 
You two are just a pair of two bookworms. Unfit for the world outside. Fit for the land you two created. Whose soil you take care of together.
***
Dinner is almost ready by the time you feel his fingertips gripping your hips. You hum, acknowledging his presence. Glad for the homely heat that radiates off of his body and seeps into your bones as you stir the risotto you decided to make on the stove. Coldness had been embracing you all day while he read so you’re overjoyed that he ripped it away from you.
Namjoon places a kiss on your temple and you sigh in relief. You might be too dependent on him, but so is he. He wouldn’t be nuzzling his face in your hair, squeezing your waist, peppering kisses on your tender skin if he wasn’t. It’s the perfect balance. And it’s not that you’re not able to be away from each other. The principle of looking forward to one another is what makes it so sweet, so endurable for the pair of you. Of the coming back and coming into contact at the end of the day. It’s natural. Simple. Human.
“Missed me?” Namjoon husks into your ear. 
You smirk and turn off the stove, turning around to face him. “Terribly.”
His body is clad in a black T-shirt that fits his broad figure well and a pair of baggy sweats of the same color, having discarded the warm crewneck he was wearing earlier somewhere in the universe of his book. A long silver chain twinkles in the middle of his chest in the yellow light. You caress it with your fingers and leave your palm there, on the hardness of his pecs. 
“I finished the book,” he says and you blink up at him. You’re not surprised at all. “Couldn’t put it down.”
Sleepy wrinkles have left their mark on his face from the cozy position he laid in for too long on the couch. His short sunlit hair, grown healthily from his military service, is tousled in all directions and you smooth it down for him. How did God bless you with such a beautiful man is something you’ll wonder about for the rest of your life. 
“What happened to Theo in the end?” you ask, genuinely curious about whether one of the characters you’ve grown attached to is okay after all the shit the author put him through. 
Namjoon was reading a coming-of-age book about a boy named Theo. A panorama of his childhood and adolescent life, you’ve heard all about it. Namjoon cared a lot about this story, cared a lot about the protagonist’s emotions and reactions to the reappearing storms. What made him stick with it, despite the nearly triggering themes, is the fact that Theo never let go of his optimism no matter what. It was incredibly inspiring for Namjoon. Something new. Something that he never thought could be possible. You’re proud of him for daring to read a book so reminiscent of his past.
“You’re not gonna believe it,” Namjoon says, a blush creeping along his cheeks.
You raise one of your eyebrows in question. 
“Theo got laid,” Namjoon reveals, laughing softly. “I’m so happy for him.”
You gasp and burst into giggles. “What?”
“He got some!” 
Your laughter rises in volume. “He lost his virginity and that’s the end?”
“It was a big moment for him. A triumph of some kind. Like he shed his old skin and left that broken life behind. It was amazing.” Namjoon’s eyes glint with tiny shooting stars and you melt. He always finds poetic meanings in the varieties of the character arcs. You think you just fell in love with him all over again. 
“That’s really beautiful,” you admit. It reminds you of something. Of something quite personal. “My first time with you changed my life as well.”
Namjoon’s eyebrows curl in tenderness. Dragon eyes widen and round in fervent emotion. He squeezes his arms around you, enfolding you in a hug. Kisses you warmly. Strokes your hair down your back. Your own eyes pool with little tears with the intimate knowledge that you chose the right person to unfold your raw femininity with. No one, no man other than him could have created such a safe for that to happen.
“Tell you what,” Namjoon says a bit hoarsely. “I saw us in it.”
You hum, encouraging him to continue. Crave for more of his thoughts and confidential findings. Its fire spreading through your body, as each word of his registers in your brain, always makes you feel phenomenally alive. You’re not timid to avow that it’s your addiction. Shame doesn’t know you.
“Elena was on top and he was watching her. In awe of her,” he murmurs, caressing your cheek with the tip of his thumb. “Made me think of our last time. A life changing experience of mine as well.”
You welcome the fire and suspire with sudden desire, eyes lidding. Your heart begins to thump. Namjoon studies your reaction. 
“You remember well, don’t you?” He nudges his nose against yours. “I was in awe of you just the same.” 
It’s impossible not to remember. The memory consumes your mind every waking hour. Gets you needy in ways you haven’t felt before. Namjoon had you sat on his lap among the fluffiness of your innumerable pillows and plushies. Had you do all the work as he focused on the sleekness of your freshly moisturized calves, its coconut aroma interfused with the scent of sex and the euphony of your bounces, ragged breaths and broken moans making his head all fucked up. He was loud himself, more loud than you ever recalled him being. Reading your body at the mercy of the pleasure his hard length was giving you with his bottom lip sucked between his teeth. Not once did he take his eyes off of you, not once did he help you. Just gripped your calves. Your thighs. Your tits all in his face. Only when you came hard, out of your own delightful merit, did his eyes roll back. You left his hips glazed with the evidence of your well-deserved orgasm, a porcelain statue made glossy.
A little later, during your pillow talk, he told you he’d found the idea of you using him while getting yourself off extremely hot. Made him more hard than he’d been in a while. Begged you to be even more selfish next time, adding an indistinct, ‘well, of course, if you want’ to the end of his sentence because he’s Namjoon.
“I do,” you breathe. “Touched myself to it this morning while you were still asleep.”
Namjoon groans. “God.” He kisses the side of your neck. Gets close to your ear. “You wanna do it again, hm? Wanna fuck me?” 
You might burst. His closeness, his heat, his need to ask for your consent turns you unstable. You’re choked up on your words, mind too fuzzy to say something. Turned on. Fucked up.
“You wanna show me how you touched yourself?” Namjoon continues, but you shake your head against the side of his face. 
You had touched yourself in the shower. Couldn’t say no to the impulse. Sharing that part of you for his eyes to see isn’t something you’re quite ready for. To you, it’s still something that’s yours. Something private. A courage you have yet to pluck up. You’re afraid to give him this last part of your femininity.
“Not today,” you whisper, planting a kiss on his neck. Feel him shiver. “I’m sorry. Do you mind?”
Withdrawing from your neck, Namjoon looks you dead in the eye, brows twisted in stern seriousness. “Don’t ever apologize for something like that again. Hear me when I say that.”
You squeeze his shoulder, the corners of your mouth lowering in a pout. Thankfulness grips your heart and suddenly it’s hard to breathe. 
“You know this is why we do this right?” he asks you. “Why I ask you these questions? I need to always know what you’re comfortable with so I don’t make a mistake.”
You nod. “Yes, Namjoon, I know and I’m so thankful.”
“Good. I’ll never push you to do anything you don’t want. Don’t forget that, okay?”
“Okay, I won’t.” 
“That’s my girl. 
You grab him by the back of his neck and engulf him in a hug. Luckiest girl in the world? That you are. The fact that you’re his is still something you can’t wrap your head around.
“We can stop. We don’t even have to do anything tonight—”
“No, Namjoon.” You withdraw. “Look.” Wrapping your hand around his wrist, you slip his hand beneath the confines of your panties. 
His breath shakes when he reaches your soaked folds. He traces your hole with his middle finger and your hips follow his movement, the pleasure so faint but so good that you flutter your eyes closed.
“Fuck, baby.” 
“Yeah, I need you. Need more,” you breathe out. “Can’t leave me like this, can you?”
Namjoon hums. “No, I’ll take care of you. I’ll take care of this pussy.” 
He kisses you. Massages his tongue against yours. You buck your hips into his hand and Namjoon hears your body language. Takes his fingers up and rubs your swollen clit from side to side, quickening his pace as he swallows your moans down his throat. Gets angry at your tight leggings hindering him in giving you more, so he gets on his knees and swiftly pulls them down along with your underwear. 
“Sit on the counter.”
You comply right away. Namjoon takes your feet in his hands and gently removes your slippers, removing your garments fully so they don’t pool around your ankles. He needs your legs spread and he needs them spread wide for what he’s about to do to you. 
Torso long enough to reach you, he remains on his knees. Runs his hands up the back of your thighs to guide you into the position he wants you in. “Lock your arms around the back of your knees. Don’t let go.”
You do as he says, biting your lips in nervousness. Intertwine your hands together. Prepare yourself to die. 
Namjoon studies your dewy pussy, index and middle finger mimicking the letter V as he slides them up and down your folds, squeezing just right to hear you mewling. Your knees being so close together makes her look a lot more pillowy and you hear Namjoon breathe hard, absolutely hypnotized by the beauty of your flesh. 
“Fuck, baby, you’re dripping down my hand.” He withdraws his fingers to show you how your slick trickles down the lines on his palm, changing the course of his life once and for all. 
Your clit throbs, breath matching his. “Please, Namjoon.”
He curses inaudibly. Brings his fingers back down to your folds, squeezes your lips and your clit together. Hisses at the sweet whimpery sounds spilling out of your mouth. Presses tighter so you whine needily for him. Takes you into his mouth when he accomplished what he wanted, tonguing your clit in slow agonizing circles that has you buckling your hips again. Puts his hands on your thighs to keep you down, flicking fast to absolutely abuse the fuck of you. Dragon eyes zeroing on yours, he gives you the hypnosis that your pussy did to him as he sucks on your bundle of nerves. You can’t even scream. Can’t breathe. The pleasure overwhelms you wholly and straps you down. There’s nothing you can do but take it. 
You come hard on his tongue. Namjoon laps it all up gladly. And when he’s finished, he stands up and slips those two digits that ruined you into your hole. Doesn’t move them. Lets you adjust instead.
“One more,” he mutters. “Please.”
You nod.
“Use your words or we’re stopping.”
You groan and close your eyes, your thighs visibly shaking in your iron grip from your orgasm. “Yes, Namjoon, one more. I’ll come for you.”
Namjoon places a wet kiss on your thigh to praise you, and to thank you as well. Begins to move his fingers promptly, but can’t seem to get enough of your skin. Proceeds to make it shiny with his liquid love, sucking it to bruise you. To remember this moment a little more fondly in the morning. 
Creating a trail up to the back of your knee, his digits pick up the speed. The pool of slick you left in his palm sloshes with each rapid thrust of his hand. He looks back at you and sees you lost in the pleasure, eyes lidded and unfocused. “Look at me.” 
You do, weakly.
“Just a little bit more and I’ll fuck you, all right?”
You’re about to nod, but decide against it. “Mhm, yes, Namjoon, fuck.” 
He smiles down at you. Your relief inches closer. “I’m so proud of you for speaking up today. For letting me know.” 
You could cry right now. Because of his fingers making you feel so good. Because of his kindness making you feel so safe. It all closes in on you and you whimper. 
Abruptly, Namjoon unravels your grip on your knees and kisses you, tongue slipping in. You come all over his hand, without meaning to, and he doesn’t stop. On the contrary, Namjoon fucks you harder. Takes all four of his fingers and strums your clit, prolonging your orgasm, swallowing down all of your moans. 
“Come on.”
Namjoon helps you down. If it weren’t for his arms holding you steady, you would’ve collapsed on the floor. Your legs shake, muscles taut and tense. 
“I got you.”
Sat on the floor with his joggers and boxers pulled beneath his crotch, he pulls you down on his lap. A wisp of precum adorns his tip and you wrap your hand around it, collecting it with your thumb. Watch him as you swirl your tongue around the digit before sucking on it, letting go with an obscene pop. Namjoon licks his lips, hands clasping your hips hard enough to bruise you. Twitches in your other hand.
“Don’t fucking do that to me, baby.” 
You laugh almost inaudibly, drunk on him. “Are you gonna come in me?” 
He replaces your hand, holding his length at the base for you to sink down. And you do, gasping softly at his thickness. Your dewiness helps it to be a smooth ride.
“Gonna pump you full. Leave you dripping,” he promises, voice restrained. “Gonna fuck you so good you’ll remember it for the rest of your life.” 
One thing about Namjoon, he’s a man of his word. 
Seated perfectly on him, he waits for you to adjust. Alleviates the tremble of your thighs with his palms, massaging the muscles. Takes off your shirt and flings it across the kitchen. Gropes your tits, rolling your nipples between his fingers. You start to grind on him, throwing your head back. He latches onto your nipple and flicks the nub with his tongue. You lose your mind, leaking down his balls. 
“Ready?” he asks against the fullness of your breast. 
“Yeah, fuck me, Joon.” 
He thrusts into you once to watch you fall apart. Locks your arms behind your back. Grabs your forearms for his use.
“You forgot something.”
He thrusts again, harder this time.
“What?” you breathe out, meekly. 
“What word do you use when you want to ask for something?”
He watches you as you work it out in your brain. Fucks into you three more times, equally hard, to disrupt you. 
“Fuck, sorry. Please, Joon, please.”
He grinds, hips rotating in circles. 
“Uh-huh, that’s right. Now use it.” 
Namjoon envelops your tit in his mouth, swirling his tongue around your areola. Sucking. Keeping up the agonizing pace. Groaning when you clench down on him. 
“Please, hmph, fuck me.”
Your breast bounces back when he lets go, biting his lip. “Knew you could do it,” he coos. “Smart fucking girl.” 
He begins to fuck you properly. Thrusting up and down as he holds you steady, keeping his eyes locked on yours. As he takes control of your squirming, leaving his fingerprints on your forearms and waist. You’re breathless, whimpering, on the verge of sobbing. So turned on and needy for him that the emotions brim in you, threatening to spill over. 
“Aren’t you?” Namjoon continues. “Aren’t you a smart girl?” 
You nod, knowing exactly what he wants to hear. “I’m a smart girl.” 
He spanks your ass to reward you and you arch your back. Tits all in his face. He’s mesmerized watching them bounce and nearly slap against each other, nubs hard and pointed. He licks them up, flicking them with his tongue. You round your shoulders a little in pleasure, his strong grip not letting you fold like your body wants. 
“That’s right. So smart and good for me. So fucking wet. Making me lose my mind.”
Namjoon kisses you. Inhales you. Withdraws only for a mere second before he’s back, tongue in, toying with you the way you like it. You feel your relief calling your name.
“Namjoon, I’m so fucking close. I’m so close. I’m gonna come,” you whine, forehead pressed against his, face twisted in ecstasy.
Namjoon stops out of the blue and slips out of you. You whine loudly, but before you know it, he carries you to the couch and lays you down on it. Takes off all of his clothes until only his silver chain remains, shining bright in the dim light. He spreads your legs, one limb over the backrest, the other around his thigh. Grips his length and tugs at it a few times, the feeling of your wetness making him slippery pulling moan after moan out of him. 
He enters you again and resumes his fast pace, holding your calf in his hand. “Smart girls come on the couch, not on the floor like whores. You got that?” 
You nod almost too eagerly, fucked out beyond measure. “Yes, Joon, please make me come. Please, come here.” 
Namjoon leans towards you, propping his elbows by your head, cradling you. “I’m here. I’m gonna make you come.” 
From this angle, he fucks you more deeply than before, his tip reaching your cervix. You roll your eyes back, but bring them right back to his face when his chain taps you on the chin. You find it so hot that you grind your hips against his, meeting his thrusts, encouraging him to fuck you harder. The chain meets you in erratic staccatos and you scratch your nails down his bare back, the sword-like pendant hurting you in a way that you like. 
Namjoon notices. Slows down his movements. Pinches the chain from the back of his neck. Prompts you to lift your head and slides it over, letting it rest in the middle of your breasts. Then fucks you back into the couch.  
“So fucking beautiful,” he murmurs against your lips. “Gonna breed you. Hm. You want that, don’t you?”
The cord tightens in your lower belly. The bulge of where his tip is hitting you nudges him in his stomach and he looks down. Curses. 
“Look.” 
You follow his eyes and moan. “Namjoon, Namjoon, please come in me. I’m so close. Wanna feel you. Please.” 
He grunts, nodding his head. Licks his fingertips and presses them against your clit. Pleasures you in fast and swift jerks until you’re knocking your head back. Only when he grabs your jaw and kisses you does the cord snap, his lips being your ultimate undoing. 
Namjoon presses you down with his body, keeps you calm and collected. Kisses you all through it, your jaw, your neck, your cheeks. Then his thrusts turn sloppy and his cock twitches in you. He gives you one final hard thrusts and fills you up, groaning against your mouth.
You’re smoothing down the sting of your scratches on his back when he pulls out of you and his cum drips out of you. You wish you could see what he sees, hand on his mouth, careful to catch his drool. You push out more for him and he curses, fondling your pussy with his thumb before he pumps it back in. 
He comes back to you and kisses you. Fixes your hair. Caresses your cheek. Helps you stand on your feet as he leads you into the shower. Washes every inch of your body, heedful of the bruises he left on the back of your thigh. Lathers your hair in your favorite shampoo. Wraps you in a towel. Wanted to moisturize your body, but you told him off, knowing both of you would get horny again. You let him brush your hair, though, placing a comb in his hand. He’s gentle as he undoes the knots, then he blowdries your hair. 
And you do the same for him.
Once the pillow touches your cheeks, you’re both out like a light. 
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Honey Girl. Chapter Eight.
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chapter one. chapter two. chapter three. chapter four. chapter five. chapter six. chapter seven. series masterlist. the playlist.
Chapter Synopsis - Turns out, you’re not the only ones with a secret.
Pairing - Dadsbestfriend!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader - soulmate au
Warnings - cursing. mentions of hospitals/medical settings.
Word Count - 5k
Authors Note - I promise that the reveal was supposed to be in this part!! but I hit 5k words real quick and thought rather than rush it, I’d give it its full own chapter. guess what’s coming next ;). as always, thank you for your love and support and patience and encouragement and kindness. don’t know where I’d be without it <3
as always, if you enjoyed this, please consider reblogging!! reblogs are the only way to circulate my writing, which generates more of it. feel free to send me a comment or an inbox, too!! thanks, my loves!! <3
Masterlist. Inbox.
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The sun beams through the white linen curtains, salty ocean breeze drifting through the open window. The rays warm your skin as you kick off the sheets, stretching your arms above your head. You turn over, to find the space next to you empty.
Rubbing the sleepiness from your eyes, you yawn, inhaling the scent of breakfast. Throwing on Bucky’s soft blue button up, you pad out to the kitchen to find him at your stovetop, shirtless and sun kissed.
“I’m getting the full girlfriend experience, huh?”
He grins at the sound of your voice, entire body lighting up with it.
“Girlfriend,” he laughs. “This is the soulmate experience, baby. It’s even better.”
You shake your head, but you can’t fight the smile that etches itself on your face. He looks so at home here, so comfortable. He reaches up to grab a plate from your cupboard, and you feel the sudden urge to burst into tears.
He knows where everything is.
He’s learnt his way around the kitchen just like he’s learnt his way around your heart. Your soul. Your very existence.
“You okay?”
He turns off the burner and glides over to you, warm hands finding your hips like it’s second nature.
“What’s wrong? You like pancakes,” he teases, leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead tenderly. “Oh no. Did you want waffles?”
You shake your head, swallowing down the lump in your throat.
“I’m fine,” you say, but your voice cracks instantly.
“Doesn’t sound like it.”
He says it so gently, so carefully. You feel like a precious flower, something to be taken care of, cherished, loved. No one has ever made you feel like this.
“I just realised you… fit, here. Like you were always supposed to. I can’t really remember what this apartment was like before it had you in it too.”
Bucky cradles your face in his hands, tilting your head up to look at him.
“Wherever you are. That’s where my home is.”
You surge forwards to press your lips to his, alive and buzzing with the electricity of being loved so wholly. He reciprocates instantly, wrapping his arms around your back to pull you closer, so you’re chest to chest.
“Your pancakes are going to burn,” you mumble, forehead resting on his.
“Let them.”
“No, don’t let them. I’m not calling the fire department today.”
He laughs, kissing you again chastely before returning to his original position. He plates up your breakfast - pancakes, fruit, granola and yoghurt, with fresh coffee in your favourite mug.
“I could get used to this.”
“And you will,” he flirts, kissing the crown of your head. “Every day for the rest of your life, baby. You’re gonna have to wake up to my face forever.”
You pretend to shudder, laughing when he pinches your side.
“Come on, trouble. Let’s eat breakfast on the balcony and pretend we’re on a tropical vacation somewhere.”
“Sounds perfect.”
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
“We’re really doing this.”
You look up at Bucky, the heavy weight of his arm around your shoulders acting as a grounding agent. Your plates are discarded on the table, cleared and finished, the two of you curled up in your loveseat. The sun is getting warmer, and it’s bringing out Bucky’s freckles, all boyish and glowy.
“We don’t have a choice.”
“Honey girl, there’s always a choice.”
“Not this time,” you sigh, shifting so you can face him properly. “I wanted to do this on our terms, and now I feel like I’ve been forced into it. It isn’t fair.”
“We can wait,” Bucky reassures, confident and understanding. “We don’t have to do anything until you’re ready.”
“I am ready. I have been for a while. It just sucks that it feels like I’ve been pushed in a certain direction, you know?”
“I know,” he soothes, work rough fingertips tracing patterns on your bare legs. “But like you said, we were going to do it anyway. This is still our choice. These are still our terms.”
You press your lips onto his cheek, chuckling when his stubble tickles your skin. He retaliates by attacking you with kisses, planting them all over your face, wherever he can reach. You squeal, hands flying out to his bare chest to try and stop him.
“Your neighbours are going to think there’s a murder happening,” Bucky laughs, fingers sliding up your shirt to rest on your ribs.
“Oh no, they love you too much for that.”
He quirks his eyebrows in surprise.
“They do?”
“The lady that lives next door, Mrs Daniels - she’s like ninety, has that white cat you always see?”
Bucky nods in recognition, so you continue.
“She talks about how handsome you are every time I see her. Always asks when the ‘man that looks like a movie star’ is coming over next.”
He laughs, shaking his head as you tease him.
“Shut up.”
“I’m serious! She probably watches you come and go from her balcony. She’s gonna love it in the summer, when you turn up in your short shorts with no shirt on.”
Bucky chuckles, pulling you into him and leaning his head on top of yours.
“Don’t be jealous, baby. You’re the only one for me.”
“I better be,” you chide jokingly, pinching his thigh in warning.
“I’ve been waiting for you my whole life.”
There’s no humour, anymore. Just love. So much love.
“I’m here now,” you whisper. “And I’m not going anywhere. Ever.”
Bucky leans in to press a kiss to your lips, gentle and filled with a lifetimes worth of promise.
“I love you, honey baby.”
“I love you, Bucky Barnes.”
You let the morning sun slip over you like silk sheets, warm and smooth and completely luxurious. Bucky’s steady breathing grounds you slowly as peace and contentment settle into your bones, weighted and calming. No matter what happens today, you know one thing for certain - you have the security of Bucky’s love to fall back on.
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
You’ve been sat in Bucky’s truck for twenty five minutes.
It’s parked down the block from your parent’s house, just out of the way. You were pulling in to their street when you panicked, begging Bucky to stop the car so you could breathe for a second.
“Sweet girl, we’ll be fine.”
“I know. I know,” you exhale. Inhale again. “Why is this so hard?”
“Because we’ve been thinking about this moment ever since that first night.”
“It’s almost been a year.”
That seems to stop Bucky in his tracks for a second.
“It… it doesn’t feel that long. Feels like yesterday. But also, somehow, like I’ve loved you my whole life.”
You lean over the console to kiss him softly, trying to ignore the hummingbird fluttering of your heart in your chest.
“Honey, I can feel your anxiety, remember? If you don’t calm down a little, we’ll both collapse.”
“Sorry,” you laugh, taking a deep breath. “Sorry.”
Bucky intertwines his fingers with yours, thumb running over the backs of your knuckles. Soothing, like a field of lavender gently blowing in the breeze on the first day of spring.
“We have to do it sometime.”
“I know,” you nod, squeezing his hand once, twice, three times before pulling away and fixing your hair in the tiny mirror. “Let’s do this. Now or never.”
You pull up outside your childhood home, instantly relaxing a little at the sight of the colourful drapes and flowers in the windows.
“Shit, Buck. We haven’t even planned what we’re gonna say.”
“We don’t need to. Just speak from your heart, baby. I’ll follow your lead.”
When you walk up the driveway, you know there’s no turning back. You also know that the weight on your shoulders will feel a hell of a lot less heavy when you leave. It’s a double edged sword, but you’re ready to wield it, with love as your armour and Bucky as your shield.
You stand a foot apart and ring the doorbell, bouncing nervously on the soles of your feet.
“Hi, sweetheart. Oh - hey, Buck.”
“Hi, Mama.”
“Hi, Lori.”
“Didn’t expect to see you both today.”
You go to speak, but she continues quickly.
“I’m glad you’re here. We need to talk to you both about something. Come in, come in.”
You look at Bucky, realising suddenly that your chest is filled with a foreign anxiety. It’s his.
You squeeze his hand chastely as you walk past him to enter the house, kicking off your shoes in the hallway.
There’s something in the atmosphere when you walk into the living room. The sun is still shining, everything is in its rightful place… but it feels wrong. You know Bucky feels it too, judging by the way his muscles tense next to you.
“Is everything alright, Mama?”
You hate the way your voice sounds like a child’s, small and naive. Your Dad is sat on the couch waiting, always happy to see you. You press a kiss to his cheek before taking a seat across from him, Bucky sitting next to you. Your Mom joins your Dad, both of them looking at you with too much compassion for a normal day.
“What are you two doing here?” your Dad asks, voice still full of light.
Something inside of you is telling you to abort mission, postpone until further notice. You listen to it, wondering for a second if somehow you and Bucky can send messages to each other telepathically all of a sudden.
“Mama said you needed to talk to me. To us.”
He looks taken aback, only for a second. Something like sadness flashes in his eyes before he paints that familiar smile right back on his face.
“Yeah, we do. You sure you don’t wanna tell us why you’re here, first?”
“It can wait,” you reassure, catching Bucky’s minute nod from the corner of your eye.
“Okay,” your Mom begins. “First of all, I need to tell you not to panic, okay? It’s going to seem super scary, but it isn’t.”
Bucky slides closer to you by a millimetre, but you feel it like it’s a mile.
“I don’t really know how to tell you this, honey, so we’ll just start from the beginning. Jack?”
Your Dad nods before taking over the storytelling.
“It all started last year. I was doing some work in the backyard. One minute I was mowing the lawn, the next I was lying on the ground.”
All of the colour drains from your cheeks, and Bucky slides ever so slightly closer again.
“We thought maybe it was heat stroke, or dehydration. No cause for concern, and nothing your Mom’s iced tea couldn’t fix.”
She takes his hand in hers, both of them with their eyes fixed on you.
“But then it happened again. In the shower, this time. I didn’t hit my head, luckily, but I did whack my shoulder against the tiles, which hurt like hell.”
He laughs, and so does your Mom, but you’re not sure what’s funny. Anxiety is rolling off you in waves so strong, Bucky’s worried he might pass out.
Your Mom takes back the reigns, continuing.
“I was insistent that he saw a doctor, which he was reluctant about. Luckily, he agreed, finally,” she gives him a look, “and we got referred to a specialist.”
“What kind of specialist?” you choke out. It feels like someone is sitting on your chest, constricting your lungs with every passing minute.
“A cardiologist.”
It seems to be that word that unravels everything for you. All you can think is cardiologist heart attack cardiologist surgery cardiologist. Serious. Serious. Serious.
“Sweetheart?”
You grab Bucky’s hand, praying that the familiar touch will ground you back down to Earth. When it doesn’t, you feel like you’re falling, down and down and down with no end in sight.
“Honey, it’s okay. Hey, listen to me. You’re okay.”
Your Mom sits down on the other side of you as your Dad kneels down, forcing you to look at him.
“Sweetheart, don’t panic, okay? Everything’s going to be fine. I know it’s scary, but I’m okay.”
“For now,” you whisper, limp in your throat forming.
“I know it’s a lot to take in, and I know it’s probably not what you were expecting us to say. We thought we’d wait until we had answers to tell you… but it’s taking longer than expected. Which is why we’re telling you now. We don’t want you to feel like you’re in the dark.”
Bucky’s running his thumb over the lines on your palm, reassuring and steady. He knows exactly how to comfort you, like a warm blanket wrapped around your shoulders. If you listen carefully enough, you can hear the drumming beat of his heart. You tune into it, letting the familiar rhythm calm you down.
“Sorry,” you murmur. “I’m being dramatic.”
“You’re not being dramatic,” your Mom responds, squeezing her hand over your knee. “It’s overwhelming. And we’ve just… thrown it at you, with no warning. It’s a lot to take in.”
You’re anxious and scared and completely lost. You’re also safe and home and completely surrounded by love from all sides.
“I’m okay,” you nod, taking a deep breath.
Your parents return to their couch across from you, but Bucky’s hand doesn’t let go of yours. If they think it’s strange, they don’t say anything. You have a feeling they’re a little preoccupied.
“Now what?”
“Your Dad is still undergoing tests to get to the root of the issue. Whatever they find, we know we’ll all be okay.”
“Your Mom’s right. I have an appointment this afternoon for an EKG. They’re trying to rule things out slowly. We’ll get to the bottom of it, sweetheart.”
“Are you okay?” you ask, suddenly realising you’ve accidentally made this about you.
“I’m fine,” he laughs. “Seriously. I know it’s scary, but I feel good in myself for the most part. The most annoying thing is that I can’t predict it - it just happens. Very inconvenient, if you ask me.”
Your parents laugh, and this time, you try to chuckle with them.
“You’ll keep us updated, won’t you?”
Bucky’s voice surprises you, somehow. His fingers are still intertwined with yours, but you’ve been so focused on your Dad, you almost forgot he was there.
“Of course, Buck.”
“And if you ever need a ride to an appointment or anything, all you gotta do is ask, alright?”
“You offering to take me on your motorcycle?”
“Sure,” Bucky laughs.
“Absolutely not,” your Mom says at the same time.
You chuckle for real, now. This feels like normality - the four of you, joking around. You have to remind yourself, sometimes, that Bucky knew your Dad before he ever knew you. You were away at culinary school when they met, but you were told stories instantly about this new guy in town who bought the old Garage and drives a cool truck. Your Mom, of course, didn’t fail to mention his big blue eyes and chocolate brown hair, or the way his shirt hugged his biceps. You thought she was exaggerating, when she said he was handsome.
Oh, how wrong you were.
You’re one hundred percent sure you’ve never met a more beautiful person. Maybe it’s your Tethering talking. Maybe it isn’t. You’re not unaware of the way people look at Bucky - he’s got this old school movie star thing going on, and people seem to eat it up. You get it. You get it more than anyone.
But it isn’t his pretty face that makes your heart skip a beat. It’s just him. Him, with his contagious smile and healing laugh and observant eyes. Him, with his confident demeanour but gentle touch, his mind reading abilities, his talent for making you feel like you’re the only person in the room. He’s a rarity, Bucky Barnes. A diamond in the rough. You remind yourself everyday how lucky you are.
He knocks his knee into yours, pulling you out of your daydream. He gives you a look that asks are you okay? to which you nod subtly in reply. A conversation, somehow both silent and loud.
“As much as I’d love to stay here all day, we should get ready to go. My appointment is soon.”
Your Dad strides over to you, wrapping you in his arms. You instantly feel like a little girl again, safe and protected no matter what. You bury your face into his chest a little more, inhaling the familiar scent of your home.
“Everything’s okay, sweetheart,” he whispers into your hair. “Promise.”
You nod against him, tightening your arms ever so slightly. He gives you a squeeze, letting you know he got the message.
As you’re putting your shoes on in the hallway, you can hear your Dad and Bucky chatting away about the baseball game from the previous night, routine easily resumed. Your Mom brushes your hair back from your face, looking at you carefully.
“I almost forgot why you came here in the first place, babygirl. What’s up? What did you want to tell us?”
Your heart skips a beat and Bucky feels it, glancing over to you with concern in his ocean blue eyes.
“It’s okay, Mama. It can wait.”
She raises her eyebrows in scepticism.
“Promise,” you reassure. “Another day.”
She doesn’t look convinced, but lets it go anyway, pressing a kiss to your cheek gently.
“We’ll call you after his appointment and let you know what they say. We love you. So much.”
You hug her fiercely, realising that you don’t do it often enough.
“Love you guys. More than anything.”
Bucky gives you a nod that tells you he’s ready to go, both of you leaving a little different than you entered.
“Call us as soon as you get out of that room, okay?”
“We will, Buck,” your Dad laughs, mock saluting his best friend.
Bucky chuckles, falling into step next to you as you walk down the driveway. You make your way down the street, out of your parents view, before your knees give out. He manages to catch you just in time, strong arms wrapped around your middle. You both sit on the kerbside, Bucky rubbing soft patterns into your back through your shirt.
“Baby, hey. You okay? Talk to me.”
You take a deep breath, looking at him with watery eyes.
“What if it’s bad, Buck?” you whisper. “I can’t do this without him. He’s the best Dad in the world.”
Bucky pulls you closer, fitting you into his side perfectly. Two pieces of a jigsaw puzzle, made for each other.
“They don’t lie to you, honey. They’d tell you if it was really serious. All you can do is wait, and hope everything will be okay. Which it will.”
You rest your head on his shoulder, letting his warmth calm you down.
“My Mama knows something.”
“Like what?”
“About us. She didn’t say anything, but I could see it on her face. She didn’t push it any further, but she was definitely suspicious.”
“We’ll tell her soon. Give it a little more time.”
You nod, wrapping your arms around his bicep tightly. He presses a kiss into your hair, inhaling the scent of your shampoo as he does it.
“Let’s go home, hmm? We can sit in the sun for a while, chop up that pineapple we bought yesterday.”
“Sounds perfect,” you whisper, looking up at him.
The afternoon hits his face just right, all warm yellow light and soft angles on his cheeks. The intermittent salty breeze ruffles his hair, all fluffy and sea swept. He looks like an ancient statue, a work of art from the renaissance, a museum piece. The sun could burn out tomorrow, but you’ll have a life source forever. Your Soulmate.
Bucky takes your hands in his and helps you to your feet, heavy arm slung over your shoulders as you walk back to the truck.
Your light in the dark. Your water in the desert. You’ve never been more grateful for him.
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
“Close your eyes.”
Bucky’s driving you home, the sound of the ocean waves hitting the shore a replacement for the radio.
“What?”
“Close your eyes, sugar. I want to show you something.”
“How are you gonna show me if my eyes are shut?”
He chuckles, pinching your thigh.
“Just shut up and close your eyes.”
You smile gently before doing as he says, covering your face with your hands for good measure.
“Where are we going?”
“It’s a surprise. You’ll like it, I promise.”
You relax back into the seat, allowing the breeze from the open window to whip through your hair. Eventually you come to a stop, Bucky clicking off your seatbelt for you.
“Keep ‘em closed.”
Bucky sprints around to the passenger side, swinging open the door and wrapping his arms around you. He practically carries you out of the car, ensuring you don’t trip while you have no vision. He plants you on two feet, making sure you’re steady before he lets go of you.
“Okay. Open your eyes.”
You blink slowly, adjusting to the brightness of the afternoon.
You’re in the middle of nowhere. The two of you are stood on a huge, grassy plot of land, overlooking a small cove of the beach. You’re tucked completely out of the way, not a neighbour to be seen. All you can hear is the ocean, the birds, and the sound of your thumping heartbeat.
“Where are we, Buck? It’s pretty.”
He takes your hand, looking out towards the water.
“This is gonna be our house.”
Your head whips around in shock, confusion written all over your face.
“What?”
Your voice is barely above a whisper, but Bucky hears it, clear as day.
“I bought this land years ago, when I moved to town. I always knew I wanted to build a place of my own, but I could never get the plans off the ground. Something didn’t feel right. And then our Tethering happened…”
He squeezes your hand tightly, pulling you into his side.
“And everything fell into place. I was waiting for the right moment to show you, and it feels like you needed it today.”
You can’t speak. You’re completely lost for words, looking out at the perfect view. Turning to him, you throw your arms around his neck, burying your face in the crook of it and inhaling.
“Thank you,” you murmur into his skin. “It’s so perfect. You’re so perfect.”
“I’m so lucky,” he chuckles. “My God, you were worth the wait. I’d wait another ten lifetimes if I meant I got to love you again for one of them.”
You’re glad he’s holding onto you, or you’re convinced your legs would give out. You lean up to press a kiss to his lips, savouring the spearmint on his tongue.
“I love you,” you pray into his mouth. “I love you so much I can barely breathe.”
He kisses you back, harder, determined to show you exactly how he feels about you. Your fingers tangle into his hair, making him groan as you tug. His hands slide down to your ass, gripping harshly as he pulls you into his front. He wants every inch of you pressed together.
When you pull away, he rests his forehead against yours.
“You can have anything you want, you know.”
“Hmm?”
“With the house. I know we talked about it that night, at dinner in California. But if you think of anything else you’d like, all you gotta do is tell me.”
“One storey or two?”
“I was always thinking two.”
“Then I’d like a balcony, on the master bedroom. I love mine back at my apartment, especially in the summer.”
“Done,” he confirms, pecking your lips again.
“And a porch,” you whisper. “That we can sit on and watch the waves, when we’re old and grey.”
“I’ll be grey a lot sooner than you,” he jokes.
“You’re a lot more relaxed than me,” you laugh. “So I doubt that, actually.”
You rest your head on his warm chest, both of you swaying to the song of the ocean.
“We’ve got plenty of time, Buck.”
“All the time in the world, honey girl.”
The two of you stay wrapped in each other for a little while longer, enjoying the company of the one person you were destined for.
You can’t remember why you were ever so against soulmates. Loving Bucky is the easiest thing you’ve ever done.
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
The two of you spend the rest of the afternoon curled up on the balcony, letting the sun warm you from the outside in.
“Pineapple will always remind me of those margaritas,” Bucky smiles, throwing a piece into his mouth. “Our first date.”
“And last, apparently,” you laugh. “We haven’t been on one since.”
“I mean, we sort of date everyday, right?”
“Yeah, I guess we do. After we’ve told my parents, we don’t have to worry anymore. We can go out whenever we want, whenever we want.”
“Exactly,” he murmurs, leaning in to kiss you tenderly. “Not long now.”
The sound of your phone ringing startles you both, your hand flying out to find it in the cushions of the loveseat.
“Hello?”
“Oh, thank God. I half thought you were dead.”
“Not dead, Lacie. Just busy.”
She laughs, and you realise suddenly how much you’ve missed that sound.
“You’re back in town, right?”
“Yeah, just for a few more days. Then I’m gonna go back to Cali and pack up my stuff for good.”
“Perfect! Me and you are doing dinner tomorrow night. I want you to meet Cameron.”
“Really? Finally! I’m so excited, Lace. Your place, or are we going out?”
“Come to mine. Cam is the best cook, seriously. I’ve gotta run, we’re picking out a couch today. A couch, babe! Can you believe it?”
“Happy couch shopping, you two,” you laugh. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Love you.”
“Love you, bestie! Bye!”
You can’t help but smile when you hang up the phone.
“She’s gonna love having you back home again, isn’t she?”
“Oh, yeah. I can’t wait to see her more. I know she’s been so busy with her soulmate and me with work and with you, but I miss her like crazy. We text all the time, but it isn’t the same.”
“She knows about us, right?”
“Yeah,” you giggle. “She was the first person I told.”
“Thought so,” he laughs, pulling you back into his side. “Knew you wouldn’t be able to keep it from her for long.”
“She can practically read my mind. It was easier to avoid the truth over the phone, but the minute I saw her in person, I crumbled. She gives me this look, and I’m done for.”
Bucky chuckles fondly, pressing a kiss to your temple.
“I can’t wait to get to know her properly.”
“Oh, she’s gonna love you.”
“I hope so.”
“She will, trust me. She used to talk about how hot you were all the time. Pre-Cameron, of course.”
“I’m glad you’re finally getting to meet him.”
“Me too. I feel guilty, you know. It was the biggest moment of her life, and all of a sudden I’m up and leaving across the country, barely keeping in touch through scattered text messages. I was so wrapped up in you and in work, that I wasn’t there for her like I should have been.”
“I’m sure she’ll understand if you say this to her, honey baby. You have to remember that her Tethering was a lot less complicated than ours. They just got on with things, as easy as can be.”
“I guess you’re right,” you murmur into his chest. “I’ll tell her all of this when I see her tomorrow.”
He wraps both arms around you, pulling you impossibly closer. You relax instantly, the warmth of his skin and familiarity of his touch soothing you like melted honey.
Your phone rings again.
“I bet it’s Lacie moving the plans around,” you chuckle. “She always underestimates how long it takes her to get everything ready.”
You find your phone from under the cushion and answer it.
“Hi, sweetheart.”
“Mama?”
“Where are you?”
The sun disappears behind a cloud, sending a shiver down your spine.
“I’m at home.”
“I need you to go and get Bucky, and come to the hospital.”
Your heart stops in your chest, and Bucky has to breathe for the both of you.
“Why?” you ask, barely above a whisper.
“I’ll explain when you get here, but it’s more serious than we thought.”
She sounds scared, which in turn terrifies you. She’s the bravest person you know, your Mom. If she’s afraid, you know it’s bad.
“Okay,” you choke out. “I’m leaving right now. I, uh, I’ll get Bucky, and - do you need anything? Does Dad? I can bring whatever… whatever you need, what do you need?”
“Nothing, baby girl. Just you guys, for now, okay?”
“Okay. Yeah, okay. I, uh, I- I- I’ll leave right now. Where is he?”
“Follow the signs for Cardiology when you get here. Room 4.”
“He’s in a room? In a bed? Mama, please. What’s happening?”
You’ve never heard your voice sound so weak. You’re kicking yourself internally - you have to be strong for her. You need to be.
“Baby, just get here as soon as you can, okay? Get Bucky to drive. I love you.”
“I love you too. So much.”
You try to hang up the phone, but your hands are shaking so much that you’re unable to press the red button. Bucky does it for you, intertwining your fingers with his.
He pulls you to your feet, smoothing your hair back from your face.
“It’s all going to be okay, honey. Put your shoes on and grab your purse. I’ll get my keys.”
He kisses your forehead gently, letting his lips linger for a second before pulling you inside and shutting the balcony door.
He doesn’t let go of your hand the entire time, even as you drive to the hospital.
You feel like you’re drowning. Repeatedly slipping beneath the surface of the water, lungs heaving, desperate to stay afloat.
Bucky feels it, too. All he can do is hold your hand and hope for the best.
All he can do is hold your hand and hope for the best.
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tag list part one
@lillytracy6996 @securegorgon @roostersforevergirl @povlvr @val-writesstuff  @dreadfulxives18 @1deadpool26 @abbygraceasd @nyutasgirl @mavrellover91 @winterslove1917 @f-this42 @skewedcherries @noisesinthedark @kandis-mom @black-cat-2 @harrystylesandthegoobs @vladsgirlxx @h0nestly-though @arienotari @nash-dara @wandaneedstherapy @galaxy-dusk @justherefortheficandsmut @cremebruleequeen @cjand10 @buggy14 @avengers-fixation @blueberrybambi @beautiful-loserr @sarah1barnes @miss-rebel-without-applause @ragingrainbowshipl @shamrockqueen @savemeroman @jenn-f @8crazy-freak8 @daddyjackfrost @openup-yourmind @adangerousbalance @mandijo17 @daddylorianisastateofmind @rcarbo1 @casa-boiardi @spideegwen @navs-bhat @mssbridgerton @asuni921 @middle-of-the-earth @mfrnchsk
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stursweet · 3 months
Text
DRESS
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pairing : matt x f!reader
warnings : sexual content obviously ARE WE SHOCKED🤣, high matt and reader, slight pain kink
summary : high sub!matt gets real needy at a party 🤗
an: y’all are SLUTS! all up in my inbox and my poll begging me for sub matt. i love it. feast up bitch. i love u. 💖💖 send me recs or just talk to me in my inbox if u want <33 also let me know if you want some sub chris. you know my ass will write for my babygirl any day. LOVEU
the air is stuffy with smoke and warmth. you’re glowing with a thin layer of sweat, your skin sticky. it’s difficult to breath, the emanation of everyone’s body heat and expelled smoke gently strangling you.
you and matt hadn’t planned to stay this long. you’d dragged him out of the house earlier that night - a mutual friends house, promising him you’d only be there a few hours, and that he’d enjoy himself.
it wasn’t hard to get him to come - he was following you out of the door eagerly, (nearly tripping on his own feet), especially after you slipped your small dress on.. his favorite.
that dress.. the way it clung to your hips, the way your tits were practically spilling from the top.. just taunting him, urging him to beg and fall at your feet, pleading for just one touch.
he’d been a mess before he’d smoked. he could barely look at your face in conversation - his eyes falling and tracing over your body, his pink lips parted slightly in awe. numerous times you had to dip your finger under his chin and redirect his focus to your face, to which he’d try desperately to sneak your finger past his lips and into his mouth - swirling his tongue around the digit just to get a rise out of you and letting go with a pop.
this only worsened when he had a hit of the joint you’d passed him, of course. he didn’t smoke often - it usually made him paranoid. but, something about the way the smoke spilled from your mouth as you exhaled, your glistening chest falling as you did so.. it made him want a hit. multiple.
so now, he’s sat at your feet - you sit on the living room couch, playing with his hair mindlessly as he kneels down before you, his arms hugging your thighs, his cheek pressed against the soft skin. he’s grinning to himself, his eyes shut. the party continues around you, the music muffled through the walls, the air hazy.
he wasn’t paranoid this time - only light, calm, amused by the smallest things. you reach down, rubbing your thumb against his cheek affectionately. he smiles, raising his cheek from your thigh to look at you, resting his chin on the skin now instead.
his eyes are tinted pink, as are his cheeks. he smiles at you sweetly - reminding you just how perfect his teeth are..
how perfect he is.
“you look so pretty,” he whispers, his speaking somewhat slower than usual. he taps his fingers along your thighs, his chin still resting on them as he looks up at you through his eyelashes. your stomach tightens at the sight.
you smile - scratching his head gently, playfully. “so do you,” you reply, watching as his cheeks grow even pinker from the praise.
someone plops down onto the couch right beside you, but neither of you pay them any mind.
“you think so?” he asks, hoping to pull more compliments from your lips - he craved them, your tone dripping with honey.
you run your thumb across his bottom lip - soft and ridiculously pink. he’s so beautiful; disgustingly so. you smile.
“of course i do,” you reply, voice smooth and carrying a hint of suggestion. his stomach flips. he smiles even wider, pressing a wet, open mouth kiss to your thigh - groaning softly against the skin.
“so soft,” he whispers against your thigh, his voice slightly cracking. he presses another kiss, and another, and another - peppering your thigh with warm, open mouth kisses.
seeing him on his knees in front of you, high and needy, does not help to stop the growing ache in between your legs. you smile, reaching down and ruffling his hair.
“not here,” you whisper, watching as his mouth against your thigh becomes messier, leaving wet trails of saliva across your skin.
he moans in protest against your skin, laying his tongue flat licking a stripe across your thigh.
“ ‘s not fair,” he whispers, still making a mess with his mouth all over your thigh shamelessly, despite so many of his friends and acquaintances flooding the space.
“you’ve been torturing me all day,” he whines, his face pressed into your thigh as he desperately tries to satisfy his body’s need to touch you.
you smile. you know you have been. denying him of any touches, wearing that dress..
“i’m not meaning to baby,” you lie, running your fingers through his hair, your nails grazing his scalp softly.
he moans shakily against your skin at the touch.
he swirls his tongue against the skin of your thigh again, groaning softly against you - the taste of you only making him ache worse.
“please let me touch you,” he whispers, slow and cracking with need. he looks up at you, eyes red and lips pink and parted with desperation. you smile, shaking your head.
“i said not here.” you reply, causing him to pout, whining in frustration against your leg. you grin.
“i’ll make you feel better when we’re alone,” you add, in hopes to calm him down - hold him over for the time being.
he smiles that dopey smile again, eyes glazed over.
“there’s nobody upstairs,” he suggests, his eyes pleading with you. he pouts, knowing you often give in when he does so.
you smile.
“you want me to fuck you in my friends bathroom?” you ask, tone laced with amusement at his neediness.
his face lights up at your words - the thought of you letting him be inside you never crossing his mind. at most, he’d thought he’d get your mouth; and that was best case scenario. he tries to contain his excitement.
he nods frantically, lifting his chin from your thigh to look at you better. he’s still on his knees in front of you, need and desperation written all over his face.
“yes, please. i’ll be quiet, i swear.. i-i’ll be so good, i promise-“ he rambles, his begs symphonic to your ears. his pleas are whiney, eager - and loud.
you reach down, interrupting his pleas with your palm. his eyes widen, and he fights to keep his tongue in his mouth and not run it along your palm greedily.
“you’re already not being quiet. why should i believe you’ll be quiet then?” you taunt, watching as he floods with panic at the thought of you denying him again.
he drops his voice to a shaky whisper, breathing heavy.
“i- i promise i will,” he chokes out. “a-and, you can cover my m-mouth.. j-just like that, if i’m not.”
you smile at his words, giving him a small nod, leaning down to whisper against his ear. your tits practically press against his lips, and he bites back a moan low in his throat.
“start walking upstairs.” you whisper against his ear, your lips brushing against his skin. you don’t even finish with your order fully before he’s standing up from his spot on his knees before you, walking quickly for the stairs, almost tripping on his feet. you laugh, standing up and rubbing his back.
“easy,” you say, not wanting him to trip and fall. he slows down, walking up the steps as calmly as he can, you right behind him.
neither of you have any shame - it’s clear whats going on; your thighs still soaked with his saliva and his panting as he practically drags you up the steps.
you shove him into the bathroom, locking the door before slamming him against it. you connect your lips, swiping your tongue across his bottom lip messily before kissing him harshly, fast.
he whines softly against your lips, hips bucking toward yours in desperation. you smile, shaking your head.
“quiet. you don’t want me to stop, do you?” you taunt, tangling your fingers in his hair, pulling his head back and kissing across his jaw and down his throat.
his breath catches. he shakes his head. he’s still a whining mess, only softer now - trying to obey you, wanting anything but for you to stop.
“m sorry, s-sorry.” he chokes out, reveling in the feeling of your soft, wet lips against his skin. he slams his mouth shut, fighting forcefully against the cries that threaten to spill past his lips.
you lay your palm flat against his stomach, sliding down the skin until you reach the waistband of his pants. his breath catches in his throat, and he gasps.
you press your palm against him through his pants, watching as his face contorts in pleasure - his brows furrowing, his jaw falling slack in a silent whine.
you move your hand up, unzipping his pants and palming him again, this time through his boxers. his precum smears onto your palm through the fabric, sticky and wet.
“so messy,” you taunt, swiping your thumb across his tip through the fabric, causing his head to fall back - a small, choked moan escaping past his lips. it’s quiet enough to slide past your ridicule.
you move your hand away, a cry of protest spilling from matt’s lips. he watches as you bring your palm to your mouth, your tongue swiping along your skin - licking it clean of his precum eagerly. he swallows thickly, choking back a whine.
“i have to take care of that, huh?” you nod towards his cock, painfully hard underneath the confines of his boxers. he nods, eyes red and cheeks pink.
“p-please, need it so bad. h-hurts,” he whispers, voice shaking with need, spilling past his lips slowly and low. “i d-dont care what you do, just please-“ he continues, pouting.
you cut him off with a small kiss to his lips. his eyes shut as he melts into your touch, lips parting against yours. he leans into you, fighting to keep his hands to himself, to behave. his hands shake with want. his mind tortures him with images of you - under him, letting him make you feel good, your moans like heaven and honey.
“lay on the floor,” you whisper against his lips, voice dripping with sex. his eyes fly open, processing what you’ve asked of him before he practically lunges for the floor, his back pressed against the cold tile. his head spins at the quick change in position, his high still rippling through him harshly. he closes his eyes, every sensation hitting him tenfold. he feels like he could cum just from knowing what you’re about to do to him. he chokes back a moan as you sink down, straddling him through his pants.
he looks up at you with red eyes, cheeks pink, lips pinker. his hair is messy - your hands having been in it previously. his lips are slightly parted, he’s panting.
“make a sound and i’ll stop,” you whisper, reaching between your bodies and tugging him free of his boxers. he winces, the exposure to the cold air on his sensitive tip causing slight pain.
you smile, looking down and stroking him slowly. he lays his head back against the tile, his mouth agape in a silent whine of pleasure. he looks so delicious, so needy. you want to wreck him with pleasure, make him squirm beneath your onslaught and fight to stay silent.
you don’t even bother taking off your dress, only hiking it up your thighs enough to reveal your small underwear. his eyes nearly roll back in his head at the sight alone.
you pull them to the side, sliding your fingers along your wetness. he watches, mouth agape and panting.
you collect some of your wetness on your fingers, bringing it to his mouth. he parts his lips eagerly, taking your fingers into his mouth.
his mouth is warm and wet - so much so that you consider torturing him some more and making him eat you out, but you decide against it. he swirls his tongue around your skin, sucking your wetness off of your fingers eagerly, a shaky whine escaping his lips, as if your taste is bringing him physical pleasure.
he continues to suck at your fingers, even when he’s swallowed all you’ve given him - hoping to come across another taste somehow. you pull them from his mouth, leaving his mouth open and empty. he pouts, whining.
“a little more. please?” he asks, eyes red and pleading. his mouth waters at the thought of tasting you again - his favorite privilege.
you smile, shaking your head and sinking down onto him without warning. you watch as he struggles to stay quiet - his face scrunching in pleasure so prettily. his mouth falls open in a silent cry.
the pleasure of being inside you rakes through him harshly, every nerve ending in his body on fire. the pleasure is intensified greatly with his high, almost unbearable. he know he won’t last long.
you move your hips in slow, torturous movements. his jaw falls slack. a sweet, soft whine of pure ecstasy escapes his lips. you don’t reprimand him - in fact, you revel in the sound, your movements becoming quicker, sloppier.
he chokes. soft, pretty moans spill from his lips shamelessly.
“h-hurt me. please?” he begs, his voice shaking and barely audible. you grin down at him, shaking your head.
“needy needy.” you spit, your voice taunting, yet soft. you deliver a small slap against his cheek, watching his face contort in pleasure.
“nngh, fuck. again.” he slurs out, eyes shut. he throbs inside you, hitting your sweet spot with each of your movements.
“manners,” you reply, quickening your movements slightly, watching him struggle to form the words.
“ahh- sor-sorry. please? hit me again please?” his voice shakes, his climax so close he can taste it on his tongue - sweet and tantalizing, the pressure tumbling rapidly in his abdomen.
your second slap is all that it takes, the sting deliciously radiating across his skin. a soft cry escapes his lips.
“c-can i cum- please?” he begs, his voice so sweet and strained. you can’t help but nod, watching the relief and pleasure flood his pretty face.
his jaw falls slack, a soft cry of pleasure pushed through his pink lips. his body shakes softly under yours, trembling with the intense orgasm. every wave of pleasure is intensified, every shake of his body leaves him weak and dizzy. he pants as he comes down, finally feeling like he can breath. the room spins.
you slide off of him, causing him to hiss in sensitivity. he looks up at you in confusion, pouting.
“b-but you didn’t-“ he begins, reaching for you - hating the idea of not pleasing you thoroughly.
you shush him quickly, swiping your thumb across his bottom lip - his mouth wet and warm against your skin.
“shh. i have other plans.”
—-
an : i got carried away this is so fucking ass i apologize🔥🔥
send recs xoxoxo
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harringtonstilinski · 1 month
Text
Pour Some Sugar On Me - Eddie Munson (Smut)
Author: @harringtonstilinski​ Characters: Eddie Munson x Henderson!Reader Word Count: 7,233 Warnings: fluff, squint super hard for angst, mentions of weed, using the hellfire club scene again bite me, trying to do more dirty talk so pls be gentle even though it's not much, Requested: no | yes; Smut (Minors DNI): no | yes, 18+; protected p in v, talks of masturbation, public, A/N: Hi, friends! The Upside Down doesn't exist in this. Also, the Party's in 8th grade, so no Hellfire members are mentioned except for Eddie. If you like this chapter, please do not hesitate to reblog and give some feedback, whether it be in the reblogs, comments, or my inbox. As always, read at your own risk and enjoy 😊
eddie munson masterlist
eddie munson playlist
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“Please?”
“No.”
“Please?
“No.”
“Sweetheart, please!”
Sighing, you stopped walking to turn and face your best friend, your books clutched to your chest. “Why?”
“Because we need you!”
“I don’t know anything about D&D! Why would you make me torture myself with trying to learn how to play while you and the rest of Hellfire have been playing for literal years?”
Eddie went to open his mouth, but stopped short when he realized… you were right. He raised his brows with a frown on his face, an unimpressed look on his face as he agreed with you. “You’re right. That’s fair.” When he looked back at your figure, he noticed… you weren’t standing there at all, having walked away.
Following you, he exclaimed, “Sweets!” Resting his hand gently on your arm as he caught up with you, he took a breath and said, “Come on! At least just sit in your chair. You can read or do homework or watch us play. You love doing one of those.”
It was true. You did love doing one of those three things while they played. If you read or did your homework, you’d pause and watch them for a moment, and sometimes while you actually watched them, you’d lean your head on Eddie’s shoulder when he wasn’t being all dramatic to just rest your eyes for a moment.
He would never admit it, but that was Eddie’s favorite moment; your head leaned against his shoulder with your eyes closed, your breathing even as you’d fall asleep while he and the rest of Hellfire would play. As he looked at you, he was silently hoping that you’d do it again at this meeting.
As you sighed, you went to answer him, but your name being called had you looking towards the source, another sigh falling from your lips. “What, Steve?”
Jogging up to you, Steve smiled and asked, “Hey, you gonna come to the game tonight?”
When you looked back at Eddie, you saw how uncomfortable he was, and it was then and there that you made your decision. Looking back at Steve, you answered, “I can’t. I’m going to Hellfire tonight. I kinda owe Eddie.”
Said boy looked at you, shock in his eyes as you stayed looking at Steve, the latter nodding his head and smiling softly.
“Yeah, okay,” Steve said.
Resting your hand on his arm, you frowned, replying, “I’m sorry. I’ll come to the next game. Promise.”
He sighed, bringing you into a hug. “Okay, bug.” Kissing the top of your head, he sighed. Looking into your eyes, he reminded you to be good and not do anything he wouldn’t do, which in turn made you laugh.
When you turned to look at Eddie, he still had that same look on his face that he had while you were talking to Steve. “What?” you chuckled.
“You’re gonna come tonight?” he asked.
Starting your walk to your locker, Eddie followed as you replied, “Well, you wouldn’t stop bugging me about it, so…”
Eddie softly laughed behind you, taking quick strides to your side, putting his arm around your shoulders. “You know you love it.”
You couldn’t deny, you released a breath with a smile on your face as you answered, “Yeah. I do.”
~~~
“It’s forced conformity,” Eddie said, walking back across the table.
“Oh, my god, Eddie, get down,” you whispered, head hidden in your book.
He listened, but not like how you wanted. Instead, he jumped down and yelled, “That’s what’s killing the kids!”
Feeling totally embarrassed, you went back to reading and blocked out most of the events that happened after that, coming back to reality as he said, “And all you gotta do is get your Bo-Peep’s on and go and find one.”
When he took his seat back at the head of the table, you looked at him with furrowed brows, asking, “Get their Bo-Peep’s on?”
“Ya’know. Like Bo-Peep and her sheep?”
You looked at him for a moment before looking back at your book while saying, “You’re so stupid.”
All Eddie could do was chuckle, reaching into his lunchbox to retrieve a pretzel, a smile present on his face. As he chewed his food, his smile fell as a thought raced his mind. “Hey, sweetheart?”
“Hm?” you hummed, eyes still on the page, but your attention fully on Eddie.
“I have this, uhm… thing after school… in the woods.”
Well, that grabbed your attention. “What? I thought we were hanging out before Hellfire like we always do?”
“And we will,” Eddie said, reaching to lightly touch your forearm, his brows raised. “I just, uhm… have to meet someone… in the woods.” He didn’t want to admit to himself, but he loved touching you, within reason; your arm, your knee, your shoulder, grabbing your hand and kissing your knuckles like the romance movies. Honestly, he felt like he couldn’t get enough.
You looked at him as he quickly eyed his lunchbox before looking back at you, never having moved his hand. Sighing, you closed your eyes, focusing on Eddie’s hand resting on your arm to ground you. Hating to admit it to yourself, you loved feeling his touch on you. You often thought about it when you were up late at night, unable to sleep, thinking about what it would feel like for him to touch you while you pleasured yourself.
Eddie’s hand lightly squeezed where it rested on your forearm. “I know you don’t like it–”
“Eddie, I don’t just not like it,” you whispered. “I hate it.” Looking down, you couldn't help but feel emotional at the mention of his ‘side job’. When he had admitted to you one night that he had started selling weed, you got into a heated argument about it, your best friend telling you that he was doing it to help his Uncle Wayne.
You had understood his reasoning, but were more afraid of him getting caught selling it, or smoking it, or just having possession of it. He had assured you that he would get caught, and that he’d be safe with it. So far, so good.
“I know, sweetheart, I know.” Moving his hand to yours that was gripping your book, removing your hand to hold your fingers, almost like he was getting ready to kiss your knuckles like he did from time to time. Instead, he just held them, looking into your eyes. “I promise you, I’ll be done quickly. Just wait for me at the van, okay?”
Sighing, you nodded, closing your eyes. When you opened them back up, you looked Eddie straight in the eye and smirked before asking, “Can I sit in the back? With the doors open?” You knew he didn’t care and would say yes. Hell, he’d let you sit on the goddamn roof if you wanted to.
Softly laughing, he lowered his head before bringing your hand towards his face, his lips ghosting over your fingers as he lifted his head and whispered, “Anything for you, m’lady,” before kissing your fingers, a giggle erupting from you.
The entire time the two of you had your moment, the rest of Hellfire looked on with annoyed looks on their faces, each of them wondering if the two of you were ever getting together.
~~~
When the bell rang after lunch and in between classes, you carried on with your day like normal, only your anxiety started to spike at the thought of Eddie in the woods with his damn lunchbox during last period, and just like he did every day, Eddie was waiting for you by the front doors of the school.
As he watched you approach him, he held his arm out for you to take, muttering a “M’lady,” with a smile on his face, making you laugh like he did every day. He walked you to his van, opening the back doors for you before helping you hop inside. Deciding to make a bold move, he placed himself between your legs, his hands on either side of your outer thighs. “I’ll be right back, okay?” Shaking his head at you, he added quietly, “Don’t go anywhere.”
Your breath hitched as he stood before you before you nodded your head, saying just as quietly, “I won’t.” Holding up your book, you added, “I’ll just be sitting here reading.” When he leaned forward, you closed your eyes, feeling his lips on your forehead in a chaste kiss. Well, that was new.
He walked away, lunchbox in tow as he made his way towards the back of the school to the picnic table in the woods, where he met none other than Chrissy Cunningham. The entire time he was in the woods with her, he couldn’t stop thinking about you, constantly looking off in the direction of the school, a worried look on his face that didn’t go unnoticed by Chrissy.
“Hey, are you okay?” she asked.
Quickly looking back at her, he raised his brows before furrowing them while nodding, answering, “Yeah, yeah. I’m fine. So, uhh… we gonna do this or what?” before his mind went back to you.
When you watched Eddie walk away, your facial expression went from one of nervousness to somewhat sadness. You were sad that he walked away from you to make a drug deal, moreso because he walked away. You wanted that moment with him to last, but as the universe would have it, you didn’t get what you wanted.
So, you turned your back to the wall of the van and leaned against it, bringing your knees up as you rested your book on your thighs, already lost in the words on the pages, the world of the book sucking you in.
As your eyes scanned the words of the scene you were reading, your mind couldn’t help but picture you and Eddie doing whatever the characters were doing, your bottom lip between your teeth.
You hadn’t even noticed two figures walking up to the back of the van and leaning against the bumper.
“Can you please remove your lip from your teeth?”
Well, that had your attention as you jumped about 10 feet out of your skin. Holding your chest with one hand and your book with the other, you looked at your little brother and just glared. “What the fuck, Dustin Wade?”
Chucklin, Steve asked, “Your middle name is Wade?”
It was Dustin’s turn to use that Henderson glare on his older male friend, responding, “Yes, it is. And what’s yours? Clarence.”
“Worse,” he answered.
“It’s Anthony,” you said, hiding behind your book.
Steve looked at you, mouth opened. “How dare you?” He said your middle name with such sarcasm, your face went from playful to annoyed.
“Go the fuck away.”
They both laughed, which in turn made you chuckle before you asked, “Okay, but seriously, what do you guys want?”
“We came over to ask you if it was okay if I went to watch Steve play,” Dustin said. “He said–”
“I can take him home right after,” Steve agreed.
With a confused look, you asked, “Don’t have to shower and celebrate with the team after?”
“He can take me after he showers or just changes,” Dustin suggested. He looked at Steve and added, “He can even shower at our house and stay the night.”
“Yeah, yeah! I can do that!” Steve said.
Narrowing your eyes at Steve, you said, “You better make sure he gets home, Harrington, or else I will spill your hair care routine to everyone in this godforsaken school, and maybe even the whole town.”
“Yup, I’ll leave right after the game.”
“Good.” Looking at Dustin, you said, “Please be good, no funny business, and tell mom to not wait up.”
“Where are you going?” Dustin asked.
Sighing, you crossed your legs, resting your hands in the middle, one of your fingers still in the pages of your book. “I’m going to Hellfire with Eddie tonight. He’s been working on this campaign forever and he wants me to be there.”
Both boys looked at each other, different expressions on each of their faces before Dustin turned to face you once more, saying, “Fair enough. You be good. Don’t make dumb choices.”
Chuckling, you uncrossed your legs, bringing your knees back up, saying, “Yeah, okay. Love you.”
“Love you, too,” they both replied, a genuine laugh spilling from your lips as your eyes went back to the pages. You weren’t sure how long you’d been reading for. The only thing you were sure of was the sun; it was high in the sky when you saw your brother and best friend, but had started to set when you thought Eddie wouldn’t return. 
So, you crawled more into the back, finding the pillows and blankets he’d left in there. You crawled back to the spot you were just previously occupying, placing the pillow where your butt had sat, laying horizontally with the blanket draped over your body, your eyes falling shut. 
As you drifted off to sleep, you couldn’t help but think about Eddie, a quiet “goddammit,” falling from your lips as you realized… you liked your best friend.
~~~
His meeting with Chrissy took a little longer than he expected. It basically turned into an instruction session before turning into a therapy session. As he walked back to the parking lot, he sighed, running a hand through his hair.
Chrissy helped Eddie open his eyes at his feelings for you. Even though he didn’t want to admit his feelings, he knew he would eventually have to. So, as he continued walking to his van, he ran a hand down his face, muttering a quiet, “goddammit,” to himself before rounding the back of the van, stopping dead in his tracks as he spotted your sleeping form.
He couldn’t help but watch as your shoulders and chest rose and fell with each breath you took. Sitting on the edge of the van, he reached out, lightly brushing a strand of hair away from your face causing you to stir.
When you opened your eyes, you looked at him and smiled a sleep smile in his direction before essentially… falling back asleep.
Eddie chuckled, resting his hand on your cheek, his thumb lightly rubbing along your cheekbone. “Sweetheart,” he whispered, a quiet hum being your answer to him. As he smirked, he said, “It’s almost time for Hellfire, baby. You still gonna sit and watch?”
Slowly opening your eyes, you breathed in a breath, tilting your head into Eddie’s hand that was still resting on your cheek. “Yeah,” you whispered. Sitting up, you let the blanket fall from your shoulder and bunch up at your waist. With furrowed brows, you looked at your best friend and asked, “What took so long?”
Sighing, Eddie moved to climb in the back of the van with you to retrieve his Hellfire bag. “Chrissy turned the sale into a therapy session after I explained everything to her about… well, ya’know.”
You nodded your head at the same time Eddie turned back around to face you.
“Anyway. I’d probably still be out there if she hadn't noticed what time it was, seeing as she has to be at the game and all.”
“Right,” you whispered, looking down at your book. Picking it up, you muttered, “I thought I put you up,” before you grabbed your backpack to put the book back in. You pulled the blanket off of you and went to fold it when Eddie’s hand stopped you, a shiver running down your spine at the touch.
“Don’t fold it yet,” he whispered.
“Why?”
“Because.” He wanted to say what was on his mind, but stopped himself, instead saying, “I know you get cold in the drama room. You can bring it to warm yourself up.”
A smile spread across your face as you tilted your head down, not wanting him to see the blush creeping on your cheeks. “Okay.”
After he jumped from the back of the van, he held his hand out to you, a smile on his face as he said, “M’lady?”
Chuckling, you slid off the back to your feet, hand still in his as you looked at him, saying, “You’re so stupid.”
~~~
Once the boys had everything set up and were sitting in their spots, Eddie took his place at the head of the table on, what he liked to call, his throne. You sat next to Eddie, sighing while draping the blanket over your legs, bringing them up to bend at the knee and tilting them to the side, letting your knee rest against the arm rest.
Just as you opened your book to pick up where you left off, Eddie said something about hooded cultists chanting something about lord Vecna.
“They turn to you, remove their hoods,” Eddie said, your eyes lifting to look at him from the corner of your eye. “You recognize most of them from Makbar. But there is one you do not recognize, his skin shriveled–”
As Eddie spoke and started to stand, you lowered your book, his voice sucking you in like a damn vice. He looked at you as he whispered, “Desiccated,” making you jump a little.
“And something else,” he said, softly, turning to the rest of the group. “He is not only missing his left arm, but his left eye!” After putting his left arm behind his back, he reached over his head with his right arm, covering his left eye.
The boys all protested while your brows scrunched in confusion as they started shouting their opinions from the last campaign.
“Vecna’s dead!”
“He was killed by Kas!”
Eddie looked at you with a smirk as he sat down before going back into his Dungeon Master character, as he liked to call it. “So it was thought, my friends, so it was thought.” Grabbing the Vecna playing piece, he stood and said, “But Vecna lives!” before playing the piece on the board.
“What the fuck?” you whispered.
“You are scared, you’re tired, you are injured,” Eddie said. “Do you flee Vecna and his cultists? Or do you stand your ground and fight?” He looked at you, leaning his hands on the table and asked, “What say you, princess? Do you think they’ll flee… or fight?”
You thought for a moment before shrugging, “If they’re not a bunch of pussies, that’d fight.”
His eyes slightly widened, his cock twitching at the dirty words that came from your mouth… or what he considered to be dirty. Looking back at his friends, he said, “Come on.”
After a few moments, one of them said, “I say we fight. Do the death,” everyone else around the table giving their agreements.
You watched as Eddie chuckled, a warmth in your belly starting to form. Deciding not to wait another day, you started to quickly form a plan in your head as to how you’d show Eddie exactly how you feel.
Eddie sat back down, happy with the turn of events. He knew that if you have your opinion, the rest of the group would agree to it. On the nights you weren’t there, they would lose the campaign and go home thinking of ways they could’ve won, as opposed to the nights you were there, they’d win, going with the opinion you gave.
When he needed inspiration for his campaign, Eddie would come to your house or call you to have you come to his trailer, just to sit and enjoy your company. You’d fall asleep half the time, but that didn’t matter to him. Your company was all he needed.
As you sat next to Eddie, half watching and half reading, you couldn’t help but think about the last few nights with him, sitting with him in his room while he wrote the campaign they’re all playing. The way he would pace in front of his bed, stopping at his Sweetheart to strum her strings before going back to the task at hand.
You couldn’t help but wonder what it would feel like to have his hands hold you, touch you, feel you the way he did his guitar. You also couldn’t but wonder what his fingers would feel like, caressing your skin, tucking your hair behind your ear, lacing his fingers between yours. The third thing you couldn’t but wonder about… was his mouth, and what it could do to you.
When one of the members called for a time-out, you were brought out of your thoughts, not realizing that you were just staring at nothing on the page in front of you. A hand on your knee caused you to jump, looking down at the ringed finger on your best friend’s hand.
Looking up at him, you noticed the crease between his eyebrows as he asked, “You okay?”
Nodding, you took in a breath. “I guess I got lost in thought.”
“About what?” His hand was still there, on your knee.
You took a breath to reply, but stopped yourself from doing so as you furrowed your own brows, looking at the huddle at the other end of the table as you heard, “Vecna just decimated us. We can’t kill him with two players.”
Sighing heavily, you looked back at your book, your index finger between the pages to turn when you were ready. You could feel the eyes of the members on you as you read the words you’d read a million times that night before saying in a sing-song manner, “I wouldn’t be a bunch of pussies, if I were you.”
“Pussies? Really? ‘Cause we’re not delusional?”
“Delusional? How about… not cowards?” you shrugged.
Eddie’s voice yelling out, “Hey!” had your head quickly turning towards him, noticing he wasn’t sitting in his chair, but sitting on the armrest furthest from you. “If I may interject, gentlemen–” He looked at you with a smirk. “Princess.” Looking back at the boys, he continued as he switched armrests, “Whilst I respect the passion, you’d be wise to take Gregory the Great’s concern to heart. There is no shame in running. Don’t try to be heroes. Not today, ‘kay?”
They all turned back around as you looked back down at your book, chuckling to yourself.
“What’s so funny?” Eddie asked, bumping his ribcage with your shoulder.
“Nothing,” you said, a smile on your face. “It’s just–” You yawned, closing your book. “-nice to see you in your element.” Putting your book up, you felt like you couldn’t keep your eyes open. When you leaned back against the back of the seat, you brought your knees back up, having placed your feet on the ground when reaching for your bag.
Leaning your head against the back of the chair, you felt the blanket being draped over your form, your eyes falling shut, but you weren’t yet asleep when the boys came back to the table, standing at the end. You did, however, fall right asleep before they started to roll the 20 sided die, which was only a couple of minutes later.
Eddie’s sole focus was on that 20 sided die, he hadn’t noticed you fell asleep, head slouched over more to the point where your hairline was almost touching his throne. When the die said 20, the club cheered loudly, Eddie saying, “What? What?” before clapping and looking at your sleeping form.
“That’s why we play, princess,” he whispered. “That’s why we play.”
~~~
You woke up to the unmistakable sound of Eddie putting on his jacket, opening your eyes to catch him pulling his hair from under the leather before you sat up and started stretching, a yawn escaping you.
Eddie turned at the sound of your yawn, sitting back down in his throne, resting a hand on your arm. “Hey, sweetheart,” he said, a soft smile on his face. “How’d you sleep?”
Shrugging, you softly replied, “As good as you can in this chair,” before softly chuckling. “Did they win?”
He nodded, bringing his hand up to your face, brushing some hair from your face. “Crit hit.”
As you scrunched your brows, you tried to think of what the crit hit meant… and then it came to you. “Crit hit equals good thing.”
Proud that you remembered something he taught you, Eddie smiled a little bigger, nodding his head. “That’s right, princess.”
With your eyes locked on his, and his on yours, you brought your foreheads together, closing your eyes while sighing. “Eddie,” you whispered. “There’s something I need to tell you, and I don’t think I can wait much longer.”
He nodded against your forehead, his eyes having been closed. This was it, he thought to himself. She’s going to reject me. “I know, and it’s okay.”
Confused, you lifted your head while opening your eyes, looking at his crestfallen expression. “What’s okay?”
Eddie dropped his hand, letting out a heavy sigh while standing. He walked to the side of the table, bringing his hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose while the other went to his hip, his back somewhat towards you. “The rejection,” he whispered. Trying to compose himself, he turned towards you a little, resting his hands on the table, much like he did earlier in the night. Hanging his head, he said, “Just get it over with.”
You had stood when the word rejection came from his lips. “Rejection? You think I’m rejecting you? Eddie, that was the furthest thing from my mind.” Bringing your hand up to cup his cheek furthest from you, you turned his head to face you, his eyes not following. “Eddie, look at me,” you whispered.
Sighing, he turned his eyes toward you, those chocolate brown eyes you loved so much staring back at you as your thumb moved across his cheek, gently stroking.
“What I was gonna say–,” you said, so softly. “-was that I really like you. Hell, I may even love you-”
“As a friend,” he gritted through his teeth.
“As more,” you said sternly. “Eddie, listen. I’ve had a crush on you forever. Don’t ask me when it started because I don’t even fucking remember. You’ve introduced me to so much; metal, D&D, a world outside of popularity and basketball.”
It was true. You were considered popular just by knowing Steve Harrington, who was still your best friend in the entire world. Eddie was an added bonus. Though your popularity status went downhill after everyone found out you were hanging out with Eddie The Freak Munson, that didn’t stop you from hanging out with him or Steve, the latter still calling you his best friend. You didn’t care about your popularity status. All you cared about… was being around people that made you happy, and those people… were Eddie and Steve, respectfully. Your main focus right now being Eddie and his happiness. 
“I love you for that,” you whispered.
With wide eyes, Eddie looked at you. “You love me, then?” Looking at a spot on his denim vest, you thought it over for just a moment before smiling and looking back into those chocolate eyes, whispering, “Yeah. I do.”
“Thank God,” he whispered, pressing his lips to yours as he stood straighter.
It took you no time to kiss him back, your free hand coming up to cup his other cheek, your lips moving in sync as Eddie’s hands came to rest on your waist. His tongue traced your bottom lip, asking for entrance to your mouth, which you gladly accepted.
As if a magnet were in between the two of you, the both of you pulled each other closer, your hands going into his hair as his hands went to your back, gently rubbing wherever he could.
You pulled back first, needing some much needed air as you rested your forehead against his. “I’ve thought about this for a really long time, Eds.”
“Me, too, baby.”
Sparking up an idea, you rested your hand on his chest, looking into his eyes. “Don’t move,” you said, enthusiastically frisky.
When you walked toward the door, Eddie’s eyes followed your form, a mischievous grin on his face.  “What are you doing, princess?”
“Oh, you know–” Click. “Just… locking the door.” You turned back to face him, back against the door for a moment, bottom lip trapped between your teeth with a smile as you looked at him.
Eddie knew he was in trouble just with that smile on your face. He felt his cock twitch his pants, the black denim growing uncomfortably tight as he looked at you. “And, why, pray tell, are you… locking the door?”
“So that I can do this,” you said, making your way over to him.
As a confused look crossed his features as you walked up to him, he shook his head, his hair swaying with the motion as he went to ask, “Wha–” before your lips pressed to his. He was shocked, to say the least, but finally happy to have your lips on his.
Snaking your hands into his hair, you sighed happily as your lips moved in sync with Eddie’s, his tongue sneaking out to ask for entrance to your mouth, which you gladly accepted. The moment your tongues touched, a soft moan escaped you, Eddie’s dick growing even harder than what he thought was capable.
“Damn, princess,” he muttered, kissing the corner of your mouth and cheek until he got to your neck. “You know how long I’ve been waiting for that?”
“Mmmmm,” you hummed, hand lightly resting on the back of his head as his lips searched for that sweet spot. Once he found it, you gasped, whispering, “Eddie! Right there.”
He went to work on your sweet spot, leaving a bruise there, licking at it to soothe it before kissing his way down to your collarbone, reaching with his hands to grab the hem of your shirt, lifting his head to look into your eyes, asking, “Can I take it off? If I’m gonna do anything else–”
“Yes,” you breathed. “Take it off. Take it all off.”
Eddie chuckled and shook his head, lifting your shirt up and over your head, revealing… a plain black bra. “Damn, sweets.”
“It’s not special or anything–”
“Still hot.”
“Because it’s black?” you smirked.
He chuckled again, dipping his head to kiss at the tops of your breasts, snaking his hand behind your back to unclasp your bra, the straps falling from your shoulders. Once the material had slid down your arms, he looked at you, mouth watering. “Damn, babe,” he whispered.
Deciding to be a little daring, you lightly shimmied your chest, a small smile on your face as you did. “Like what you see, Eds?”
“Oh, I very much like what I see,” he said, bringing his hand to the spot between your shoulder blades to pull you towards him, his lips descending to your nipple, wrapping around the bud.
As he licked and sucked, your hand found its purchase to the back of Eddie’s head again, leaving him there as moans and whimpers spilled from your lips. “Oh, my god.”
Breathing out a soft laugh as he switched to your other breast, he whispered, “I knew you’d like that.”
“Oh, you did, did you?” you asked, softly. Another moan made its way out of your throat at the feeling of his lips and fingers going to work on both of your nipples. “Mmmmm,” you hummed.
Eddie pulled back, palming your breast as he looked at you as he said, “Sure did, sweet thing. I’ve dreamt about this for a while.”
You rested your hands on his shoulders, looking him deep in his eyes before bringing a hand up to gently and softly cup his cheek, whispering, “So have I.”
He dove right in, pressing his lips to yours in a searing kiss, a full on make out session as you moved your hands to his shoulders, sliding his leather jacket and denim vest off his shoulders, his Hellfire shirt on full display. 
The only time the two of you broke apart was for you to remove his shirt, his chest tattoos on full display. You looked at them, tracing over them, even though it almost caused fear in you to trace the spider tattoo.
“Don’t worry,” he whispered, putting his hand over yours. “It’s just a tattoo.”
When you looked at him, he was softly smiling, which caused you to softly smile. “I know. They just creep me out.”
“I know what arachnophobia is, babe.” He smiled bigger before a small chuckle came from him causing you to roll your eyes.
Giggling, you leaned forward, resting your head on his shoulder. “ I know that, dork.” You slid your hands down his torso, making him breathe in a hiss before your fingers wrapped the top of his black jeans.
Eddie moved his hands to yours, bringing your hands to his belt. He never broke eye contact as he did. “Unbuckle it.”
You did as he asked, looking down to his belt, carefully undoing it and his button before sliding his zipper down.
He breathed out a deep breath, the pressure on his cock releasing a little.
Feeling brave, you decided to reach into his pants, wrapping his hardened length in your hand. “Fuck. I can barely touch my fingertips.” You chuckled, looking up at him, a look of disappointment crossing his features. “Don’t worry, babe. That’s a good thing. Means you’re big.” Biting your bottom lip between your teeth, you tried to be seductive, which worked because Eddie sucked in a breath. “I feel like you’re being submissive.”
“Nah,” he said. “Just letting you take the reins for a moment, swee– fuck.”
Your hand moving up and down had a moan escaping Eddie’s throat, his head being thrown back.
“Fuuuuuck, sweetheart. That feels amazing.”
Leaning forward, you placed your lips to his Adam’s apple, moving down his sternum and stopping where you couldn’t reach anymore before looking back up at his face, an almost fucked out look crossing his features. “You look so pretty,” you whispered.
“I’ll show you pretty,” he said, squatting to pick you up, your legs wrapping around his waist. “Get ready, princess. I’m gonna rock your fucking world.”
“Wha–” you asked, before gasping as your back met the table they had just played on, Eddie’s fingers grazing your sides before traveling down to the tops of your jeans. “Jesus, Eddie.”
“What do you want, princess?” he asked, skimming his lips across your stomach down to your jeans. Looking up at you with mischievous eyes through his lashes, he smiled a little, hearing and seeing your soft breaths quicken. “Tell me what you want. Tell me where you want me.”
“Mmm, on me,�� you whispered.
As he unbuttoned your jeans, he whispered, “Where?” before kissing the imprint that the button left on your skin. 
Letting out a breath, you looked down at him and whispered his name, your eyes full of pleading, as well as trying to tell him something. When it finally hit him after a couple of seconds looking at you, his eyes went a little wide as he picked his head back up.
“Are you a vir–”
“No,” you shook your head, swallowing your nerves. “I’ve had sex before. I’ve just never… dirty talked before. The last guy didn’t, either. Well, with me, at least.”
Eddie nodded softly before looking back down at your skin, placing another soft to it. “Well, you don’t have to worry about that, baby.” Another kiss as he unzipped your jeans. “I’ll take care of all that.”
When he tapped your outer thighs, you knew that was your queue to lift your hips, your nerves starting to show as you watched him remove your jeans, sliding them down your ankles… after sliding your shoes off, of course.
It was like he knew you wanted to close your knees, so before you could even think of doing it, he quickly placed his hands on the inner part of your knees, feeling your muscles tense. “Please don’t be shy, baby.”
He spread your legs a little further apart to slide his hands on the back part of your thighs, bringing them back around to your inner, essentially holding your thighs as he slowly dropped to his knees, bringing you further down the table.
“Tell me,” Eddie said, kissing the inner part of your knee. “Did those other guys worship you?” He watched as you shook your head, another kiss placed a little further down your thigh. “Well, shame on them, then. Because I’m gonna worship this pussy–” Kiss. “-like my life–” Kiss a little further down. “-depends on it.”
You went to say something, the words dying in your throat as a soft moan escaped your throat at the feeling of Eddie’s tongue licking a stripe up your core.
“Damn, sweetheart,” he whispered, licking another stripe, this time in between your lips. “You taste incredible.”
“Mmm, Eddie,” you whispered, bringing a hand to the top of his head, gently carding your fingers through the tendrils at the top of his head. “Right there.”
Eddie hummed, lapping at your core like a man starved. As he brought his lips to your clit, licking and sucking on it like it was his last meal, he let go of one of your thighs, bringing his fingers to your entrance. Releasing your clit, he gently rubbed it with his thumb, his fingers drawing big circles at your entrance. “You’re so wet for me,” he rasped. “I made you this wet?”
You giggled, gently scratching at his scalp. “You’re so stupid,” you whispered.
“That’s my girl,” he smiled, licking at your clit once again. He elicited a moan from you, your tossing back at the feeling of his fingers entering you. 
“Holy shit,” you all but whined. You could feel the stupid fucking smirk on his face as he pumped his fingers in and out of your core. “Oh, my god, don’t stop.”
That only egged him on further; his fingers moved faster, and it seemed like his tongue was moving faster as well. Eddie was in full concentration mode, your whimpers and moans sounding like heaven to him.
“Oh, shit,” you moaned, looking down at him, seeing nothing but the mop of brown curls you loved so fucking much. “Eddie, I’m gonna cum.”
No words. Nothing came out of his mouth but his tongue licking at your clit relentlessly.
One… two… three more licks and quick pumps of his fingers and you were gone. Gripping his hair as hard as you knew he liked from the horseplay you two would find yourselves in, you came all over his fingers, his tongue wanting a taste.
Your back arched at the feeling of his tongue inside of you as far it could reach, your taste on his tongue.
When he was sure you’d ridden through your orgasm, he kissed his way back up your stomach and sternum, his nose brushing against your chin before his lips found yours, kissing you and letting you taste yourself.
Looking all over your beautiful features when he pulled away, you licked your lips as you slowly opened your eyes, those eyes he loved so much, you hummed and whispered, “Yummy.”
“Shit, princess,” he murmured, hissing when you reached back down to his length, his member still hard as ever. “Goddamn, I can’t wait anymore.”
“Then fuck me, Eddie.” You guided him to your entrance, his hand coming up to hold yours on his length.
“I won’t be able to hold back, baby. I’ve been waiting for this day for a long time.”
Nodding your head as you brought your hand up to cup his cheek, you said, “That’s okay. Give it to me, Eds.”
He kissed you as he pushed into you without warning, a loud gasp coming from your throat, your head tossing back as far as it could on the table.
“Oh my god,” you groaned, loving the full feeling you were getting. “You’re so fucking big.”
“You’re so fucking tight,” he gritted, holding back so much.
“Let go, Eddie, it’s okay. I can take it.”
Pulling his hips back, he looked down at where the two of you were connected before snapping his hips back into yours, a cry of pleasure meeting his ears.
“Fuck! Do it again.”
He didn’t need to be told twice as he pulled his hips back, snapping them back with yours, repeating the motion. “You feel so fucking good, baby. It was like this pussy was made just for me.”
“Yep, whatever you say,” you replied, voice shaky from the bounces your body was taking with each thrust of Eddie’s hips. “Shit, don’t stop. Mmmm, I’m almost there.” 
You went to touch your clit, a whimper escaping you at the feeling of Eddie’s finger circling your sensitive bud. “Just like that,” you breathed. “Don’t fucking stop.”
“Shit, I’m not gonna last much longer,” Eddie groaned. “F-fuck.”
“Cum, Eddie. Cum with me,” you cried out in pleasure.
“Are you–”
“I’m clean, I’m on the pill, and I’m sure, just–” Moan. “Just cum, Eddie, just– oh, my god, don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t–” Another moan filled the air as your second orgasm shot through you, Eddie’s not far behind.
Not wanting to crush you, he rested his weight on his forearms by your head, his forehead resting on yours, both of your eyes closed and heavy breaths mingling. “That… was… amazing.”
“Sure as fuck was,” you agreed, releasing a breathy chuckle.
Eddie’s own breathy chuckle blew over your face before he sighed. Placing his lips on yours again, he took a breath through his nose before pulling slightly back with a small smack from yours lips disconnecting. “I have to pull out of you. I’m kinda growing soft here.”
Giggling, you nodded your head, saying, “Okay,” before whining at the loss of him filling you up. “I miss him already.”
“Who?”
“Your dick.”
He looked at you, confused before bursting out in laughter, your own joining him.
When the two of you were dressed and looking a little fucked out, you helped with his campaign books, carrying them with your own book and his blanket in one arm, the rest of his D&D stuff in his own arm, his free one wrapped around your shoulders, your own free arm wrapped around the middle of his back.
As the two of you walked back to his van, you couldn’t help but smile the whole time, happy that you finally got the boy you’ve been dreaming of.
“So,” Eddie said, after helping you into the passenger seat of his van. “What do you say to me getting high, and then us going to Benny’s for a bite?”
“Uhm, yes to the second as long as I meet my curfew, no to the first because you could actually get caught and I can’t have that.”
“Why not?” he asked, almost whining like a child.
“Because I just got you. I can’t risk losing you to something like weed.”
“But… it’s how I’m–”
“Able to help Wayne, and I adore you for that, but Eddie… it’s not smart to smoke and drive.”
“But - but -”
“No buts.”
Raising a brow at you, while turning his head slightly to the side, he said, “They’re for goats.”
You couldn’t help but grab onto his jacket, pulling him closer to you to press your lips against his, but not before giggling, “You’re so stupid.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A/N 2:  hi, friends! let me know what you thought! again, please do not hesitate to reblog and give some feedback, whether it be in the reblogs, comments, or my inbox.
Additional Notes: i should've titled this you're so stupid 'cause they said it a lot, lol. so!, just know that if you come into my inbox and ask about you're so stupid, i will be referring to this fic, lol, unless i title another fic you're so stupid.
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Forever / Everything Taglist: @stiles-o-dylan24 @stixnstripesworld @fandom-princess-forevermore @quanticobae @mischiefandi @kellyashcroft @lauren-novak​
If you’re tagged and didn’t want to be, please let me know.
Italics wouldn’t let me tag!
~~~
*Please don’t post my writing anywhere else without my consent. The author of this work will always and forever be @harringtonstilinski​.
All characters, story lines, and plot aside from y/n and her storyline & plot, are all of the work of The Duffer Brothers.
*These works contain material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited.
No part of these works may be reproduced in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher.
Posted on March 29, 2024
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sugrhigh · 2 months
Text
HOTBOX 2 - ( m.s )
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REQUESTED**
part one
summary- matt smoked with his best friends for the first time, and after you guys get home his dirty thoughts about you finally come to life
warnings- SMUT !! so don’t read if ur uncomfy, swearing, unprotected sex, slightly subby!matt
bff!matt x fem!reader
a/n: HEHE i had fun writing this so i hope you guys truly enjoy. i will be working on boy next door and a beautiful fall req i just received, but until those are posted my inbox is open for any comments, reqs, or sweet nothings xoxo
dedicated to the lovely @awsturn thank you for requesting!!!
@fawnchives @mattswrld @l1ttlefreakk @teapartyprincess4two @l9vesick
“oh wow, matt.” nick can’t stifle his laughter as his brother walks through the front door with the rest of you.
he’s got his arm around your shoulder, leaning some of his weight on you as you move in unison. he promised he could walk fine on his own, but you insisted on being there just in case.
not that he minds the physical contact.
“what?” he asks, eyebrows furrowed in confusion as his eyes finally focus.
“nothing you just look…very faded.”
“that’s because he is.” you reply for him.
“hey, so are you guys!” matt argues, and you nod your head absentmindedly as the two of you head past nick to the living room.
“yes, we are. do you want to sit?”
“are you going to?”
you laugh and untangle yourself from his arms once you’re beside the couch. “you don’t have to do everything i do, you know.”
his legs are far less shaky than they were before, but he plops down on the plush cushions regardless. the rest of the group is still chattering in the foyer, and he appreciates the few seconds of alone time he gets with you.
“just wanted to make sure you weren’t leaving.” matt shrugs lazily in response.
“i’m literally spending the night dork.” you remind him, turning to head into the kitchen.
you’re unknowingly giving him the perfect view of your ass as you walk, covered only by those thin little yoga pants, hips swaying back and forth like you’re taunting him on purpose.
he has to force himself to look away, to try and put an end to all of the filthy thoughts churning in his mind. he shouldn’t be thinking them, especially not about one of his best friends.
but matt is too fried to pretend he doesn’t have feelings for you. he always has. it’s just harder to hide how much he wants you when he can barely remember how to breathe.
it’s pretty late, so chris and nathan announce that they’re going to his room to play video games. the pair are already bounding down the hall as you return to the living room, equipped with a bottle of water in one hand.
“where the hell are they off to?” you ask with a grin, passing him the drink.
“going to play fortnite or something.” matt replies, taking the water into his own trembling hands.
he tries to ignore the way his fingers pass over yours, tries not to wonder if you feel the same spark that he does just from a simple touch. luckily, nick enters seconds later which relieves some of the tension.
he watches his brother wrap you in a quick hug. “i have to finish editing, but i’ll see you in the morning.”
“you better be up in time for mcdonald’s breakfast.” you point an accusatory finger at him as he heads to his room laughing.
“yeah, yeah, wake me whenever. goodnight matt, drink that water.”
he hears the door click closed a second later, his eyes trained on you as you move to sit down beside him. your thigh is inches from his, but you’re still too far away for his liking.
“are you sleepy?” you ask him as you settle down against the cushions, finally meeting his gaze once you’re comfortable.
“not really.” he finds himself smiling at you, for no real reason besides the fact that he loves you.
you tilt your head to the side, studying him with a look in your eyes that indicates you’re amused. “okay, how are you then? enjoying it?”
his eyes are low and red, watching your lips as they move. he can’t stop thinking about your fingers gently gripping his thigh earlier, the confident tone in which you speak to him, how you handle yourself.
all of that mixed with the weed is making him incredibly turned on. he shifts a little, dropping the water bottle on the couch so he can use his hands to cover his lap.
“yeah, i’m enjoying it.” matt says quietly, unable to look anywhere besides you.
you furrow your brows a little bit, but your grin doesn’t fade, which makes him feel better.
“alright, what’s going on? i know you’re high and everything, but you’re acting a little too weird.” you accuse him, though your demeanor is light-hearted as you nudge your shoulder against his.
he shakes his head just slightly as if he has no idea what you’re talking about. “what do you mean? i’m totally normal.”
matt finds that his voice is just a little too squeaky and quick to be convincing, and he knows he’s not a very good liar, especially when it comes to you.
“come on, i know that’s not true. you can tell me anything.” you push, moving a little bit so that you can properly face him.
the light coming from the kitchen silhouettes your features beautifully, and he can feel the words crawling up his throat. it’s involuntary, but the truth is coming out either way.
“i already told you earlier.”
“what?”
“i just…want you.” he finally admits breathlessly.
this catches you completely off guard, considering you had pushed your previous conversation in the car to the back of your mind. you figured he was just tripping, only saying flirty things because he was so out of it.
your lips part like you’re going to speak, but nothing happens. matt studies your face for any kind of emotion other than shock, but he can’t read you, which makes him anxious.
“i’m sorry, fuck, i don’t know why i’m saying this shit right now, of all times, but you look so pretty and i just…i needed you to know because—” he stumbles over his words, which morph together in the wrong places.
“matt, matt, it’s okay.”
you put a hand on his thigh again, trying to let him know that everything is fine, and he literally twitches from the pressure of your palm being so close to where he needs you.
“don’t do that.” he hisses, unable to control the way he slightly bucks against your fingers.
but you don’t move, because you feel yourself throb at the sight of him growing hard in his sweatpants. all because you touched him.
“matt…” you tilt your head, trying to get him to look at you.
he exhales a long breath before he finally does, his faded eyes wider now, cheeks flushed and brown hair messy from the wind of the car ride home. he looks beautiful, your beautiful best friend.
but matt is way more. you need him to be more.
“are you sure you want this?” you say faintly, leaning in just enough for him to notice.
“do you want this?”
you nod your head slowly, staring at his pink lips, unable to stop wondering if they’re as soft as they look. so you meet him the rest of the way, your mouth meshing against his gently.
matt almost melts at the feeling, and butterflies erupt through his chest. he can’t believe this is happening. part of him wonders if he fell asleep, and is dreaming it all up.
it’s thrilling, how desperate you both are for more, how his tongue slips against yours so nicely, and he has to contain himself when you bite down on his bottom lip every so often.
you pull away and swing your leg over his lap so you can straddle him. he groans quietly underneath you, because your hips feel so nice on his that he already wants to combust on the spot.
and then you lean down to his ear, moving slowly against his hard dick, so close he can feel your breath tickle his skin.
“i’m gonna take care of that, baby,” you whisper, “but you have to be quiet. can you do that?”
matt nods eagerly and you kiss his neck in response, tugging at the skin lightly. his hands travel to your ass, gripping it tightly to force some more friction.
he feels you grin against his throat, and he has to hold back a moan from the combined sensation of your tongue and hips going to work.
you move up to his jaw, across his cheek, back to his mouth, and this time he smiles against your lips. kissing you is just so sweet, even when it’s sinful, and he’s so high and happy it's impossible not to.
you pepper him with a few more quick pecks before crawling off of his lap, crouching down between his knees. he’s already needy, missing having you on top of him even though you look gorgeous at his feet.
matt reaches out to smooth your hair, holding your head in his hand as his thumb brushes your cheek.
“are you real?” it leaves his mouth before he can think.
you let out a breathy laugh, turning your head to kiss the heel of his palm softly. “i’m real, i promise.”
the intimacy of the moment, just that small gesture, is making his heart slam against his ribcage.
you reach up to hook your fingers underneath the waist of his sweats, tugging them down to indicate he should lift himself. matt does just that, pressing his back against the couch so you can slide the soft material down to his ankles.
your run your hands up his thighs before you go to the band of his boxers, pulling so that his dick springs free. he’s already wet and straining, precum soaking his tip, and he’s a little embarrassed by the way you’re looking at it.
but you’re only staring because it’s bigger than you expected, possibly the biggest you’ve seen in person. you’re entranced as your fingers glide over his tip, spreading his wetness across the rest of the base.
“shit…” matt mutters under his breath, throwing his head back against the couch as he fucks himself into your hand slightly.
you love hearing him all breathless, watching his muscles clench in pleasure as you stroke him. but you can tell he’s already worked up enough, so you start to slow your movements to a stop before pushing yourself to stand.
his head snaps back up, surprised by the switch in pace, and then his eyes get wider. you slip your leggings off, reaching for the hem of your shirt after so you can tug it over your head and discard it with your pants.
he loves seeing you exposed like this, every curve, every gorgeous little detail that makes your body your body.
“my pretty girl.” he praises, completely pussy whipped already, and it makes you a little bit shy as you stand before him.
you just like matt so much, and hearing him compliment you in such a personal setting only confirms how much you need him.
“want you inside me.” you murmur, straddling his waist again, sliding your wet panties against his shaft lightly as you get situated.
“please, oh my god—” he’s choking on his own words as you push your panties to the side, lining him up with your entrance.
you sink down on him without warning, feeling that delicious and familiar pressure in your stomach as he fills you up. matt’s hands find their way to your ass again, in a state of complete euphoria from having you wrapped around him.
you both groan, and you lean in so you can attach your mouth to his, swallowing the sounds of your shared pleasure. he helps guide you up and down, slowly at first, admiring the way you squeeze his dick every time he’s fully inside.
“fuck, you feel so good matt.” you whine against his lips as quietly as possible, picking up the pace and moving your hips at a quicker speed, hands on the frame of the sofa to help you bounce.
“promise you feel better.” he manages to respond before having to bite down on his bottom lip hard to contain a moan.
you’re riding him so well, skin slapping skin together ever so slightly. matt uses one hand to tug your bra down so he can slide his tongue over one of your nipples. you arch into his wet mouth, enjoying the way he softly sucks on each of them, swapping every so often.
he loves having your tits in his face so much, and he knows he won’t be able to hang on much longer with the way you’re moving.
“m’close, oh fuck—” his eyes roll back as you rock against him as fast as possible, rotating your hips so he hits a different spot every time.
“that’s it baby, keep fucking me, let it all go.” you command, relishing in the wave that’s taking over you as well.
matt slams you down on him a couple more times before he feels his fingers lose their grip, shuddering as he finishes inside you, breathless and sweaty.
your own muscles tense and you dive into it, releasing all over his cock as you slow your pace due to the overstimulation. you’re also panting as you slide off of him, rolling over his leg so you can sit beside him for a minute.
“that was…wow.” matt sighs happily as the both of you readjust your underwear.
“agreed.” you turn your head to smile at him, leaning in for one more little kiss.
it’s short, but it’s still just as passionate as the ones that came before. you could do it all day, his lips are just that soft.
“we should probably get cleaned up. do you wanna spend the night in my room?” his voice is still hushed once you pull away, and there’s a certain weight behind his words.
“i kinda want to sleep in your room every night.” you reply honestly, and his face lights up again at the confession, because he feels the exact same.
“i think i would kinda like that a lot.”
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hysteria-things · 3 months
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can u do a story of like chris sturnolio being a dad ??
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UNEXPECTED TURNS
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𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dad!chris x reader
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: at first, you were devastated to find out that you were pregnant at this age. now, realization hits and turns out it’s not so bad for not only you; but chris too.
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: FLUFFY, angst in the beginning, flashbacks, panic attack
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 760
𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: IVE BEEN WAITING FOR A REQUEST LIKE THIS I FIND THESE SO CUTE!
was gonna save this for another day but i’m too impatient LMAO
i’m trying to get through my inbox so there should be lots to come! hope you like it anon :)
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*flashback*
‘pregnant’
you read the word at least ten times on the test in your violently shaking hand.
a sob leaves your throat as you tremble. “no.” you choke out.
you try your best to grab your phone and text chris, your boyfriend. you need him here, and you need him here now.
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“y/n?” his voice echoes through the house. you steadied your breathing, but you’re still a trembling and crying mess on the bathroom floor.
you hear footsteps coming up the steps. “y/n?” he calls out again.
he runs over to the bathroom door and opens it. the panic shoots through your body again when you see him, and you breathe heavily. “i’m sorry.” you say between sobs.
chris worries all over his face. he kneels to you to take your shaky hands in his. “sorry about what? oh my god, what happened?”
you point to the counter where the test is. he knits his eyebrows together and grabs it off the countertop. he scans over it for a few beats before looking into your crying eyes.
he sets the test down, taking his thumbs and trying his best to rub as many tears away. “i’m sorry.” you repeat.
he brings your head into his chest and tries to shush you. “you have nothing to be sorry about.”
he rubs up and down your body in a soothing motion, whispering in your ear. he rocks you from side to side.
his chin is resting on top of your head. “i’m with you on whatever decision you make. you know that right?” he tells you, kissing your head.
you nod. your ear is on his heartbeat, which is strangely calm. you close your eyes to focus on the rhythm, your breathing steadying along with it.
*9 months later*
tears of joy leave your eyes when the doctor carefully places your daughter in your arms. chris held onto your hand tight the whole birth. he rests his forehead on yours and kisses your nose, then the top of your little girl’s head.
“thank you for giving her to me.” you smile at chris.
“are you kidding? you’re the one that went through hell for nine months.” you and him both chuckle. “you’re a warrior, y/n. don’t ever forget that.”
holding your child for the first time is a different type of love. you never want to let them go.
despite both of you being 20, you know you guys can be the best parents to your baby girl.
*now*
chris sighs when he hears your one-year-old in the pack-and-play he set up in the living room. she’s been crying nonstop.
he gets up from the couch and walks over, leaning to get a better view of her. “what is it, little miss?” he says, reaching into the pack-and-play to pick her up.
she stops her crying to look at her father for a split second, but then goes back to the tantrum. “ma-ma.” she cries.
“your mama is taking a nap. she needs to rest.”
that only makes sadie cry harder, and chris tuts. “let’s take a look outside.”
you guys bought a house during your pregnancy, still close to his and your family. it came with a beautiful backyard.
ever since sadie was born, she has been so fascinated by looking outside. it always worked to calm down her little outbursts.
chris turns so his back is facing the glass door. her head rests on his shoulder as she looks at the summer greenery and flowers. her crying immediately stops, and now she’s doing rapid sniffles.
he rubs her back in a soothing circular motion and rocks from side to side. “i don’t like when you’re this upset, little miss. everything’s okay, i promise.”
her cheek rests on his shoulder, her breathing going back to normal.
when it seems to be a little too quiet, he peeks to look at her face, seeing sadie holding on tight to his arm and sleeping peacefully.
he rolls his eyes but smiles. “so dramatic.” he mumbles. “i wonder who you get it from.”
chris walks the sleeping infant into her nursery to set her down in the crib. before doing so, he kissed her on the cheek.
he stays there to admire what’s in front of him. she most definitely has your face and hair, but she has his blue eyes.
this was not a part of the plan in your relationship; at least not this soon. however, you guys wouldn’t want it any other way.
and that’s the beauty of unexpected turns.
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𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!
@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @mattsneezing @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @hearts4chris @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom
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ivysangel · 3 months
Note
pilates princess gf and gym bro Jason Todd, I'm begging.
him getting home after his daily gym workout and seeing his beautiful girlfriend doing a pilates mat session in their living room, wearing pink leggings and a white crop top. and Jason getting turned in by one of the poses she made, so he just fucks her there, praising and teasing her, making her mat a whole dirty mess with their body fluids.
I'm bad at making requests, sorrywnsbns
can I be "🐚" anon?
ooooooooooooo my goddddddddd i'm sick. this sat in my inbox for ages but trust, i have been thinking about it. side note, i don't workout so idk if any of this lingo is right and i don't care enough to check. gym bros get nothing from me.
i hate gym bros so bad, i'm actively praying on the downfall of them (pilates princess' have my heart tho), but i think he'd be the type to throw some headphones on and do his workout alone, interacting very minimally with people but when he does, it's very polite.
he's everybody's gym crush and doesn't say no when girls ask him to spot them because, of course, he's not gonna risk anyone getting hurt, especially when he knows it won't lead to anything. and trust, it never does. some flirt and bat their eyes, a lot just tap on their friends and try to secretly signal for them to look. he's sure he's the topic of someone's private story. but none of it matters at all because he's got you at home.
sometimes, the rush of endorphins he gets after a workout gives him more energy than he knows what to do with, and not even a few extra reps is enough to tire him out. so when he gets home and sees you doing bicycle kicks, leggings hugging the curve of your ass, he's got the bright idea to use the rest of his energy on you.
bam. now he's fucking you doggy style.
leggings pulled down just under your cheeks because he likes the way they look around your thighs, and the workout you were following paused on the screen. he's hunched over, kissing his way down your spine, telling you how much he loves you and how much he needed this. he promises he'll make it up for you, promises he's sorry for interrupting your workout. but he swears up and down, in between praises, that this is a good alternative because you're both burning energy and getting off.
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Hihi! I’m in an angsty mood, so if it’s no bother would you mind writing falsely suspected traitor!reader (gn) with Gaz, ghost, soap, velikan, roach, Keegan and Krueger (I’m sorry, I don’t know your character limit, it’s completely up to you how many and which of them you want to write for!!) but they only find out reader is innocent after they already tortured reader?
Reader does forgive them but is very much traumatised, believing it’s something they did in order to bring suspicion to themselves, so reader starts to act differently. More meek and withdrawn, always keeping their head down and voice quiet, flinches and has low self esteem, …etc
Of course no pressure to write this at all!! And I’m sorry if any of the phrasing is weird, English is not my first language 😅
Hope you have a great day/evening!
a/n: I’m pretty sure I have a request just like this in my inbox and drafts somewhere lol (my drafts from old old requests are still gathering dust I’m so so so sorry to the people who requested btw)
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Gaz:
-heart shattered with the most painful look on his face when he found out you didn’t lie to him. That you were innocent.. that when he was doing everything to pull info out of you and treating you like scum, that your answers of ‘I’m not lying!’ And pleas were all.. real
-went to you the second he could, shivering in self hatred especially when he saw the wounds he had caused on your body
-once you finally got back to good terms, he could see all the damage he did and it hurt him so much. He wanted YOU back, the loud, funny, unworried you… he didn’t know what to do
soap:
-held you so close for so long as soon as he figured out you didn’t lie to him. Or the team.
-tried everything and I mean EVERYTHING to try to get you back to how you were before it all
-every time you flinch or whisper, he can feel his guilt stabbing him though the heart, he can just imagine how you must feel.. and to think he could have helped.
-If he wasn’t so close to the rest of the team, he probably would have yelled at all of 141 for even assuming you were the traitor
ghost:
-feels so utterly guilty, like a wound was given to himself rather then you
-hates the fact he genuinely thought you would ever do that to him
-tried to distance himself from you now that you were back… he was just so guilty
-what if he hurt you again? What if you were still mad? What if you hated him now? He just couldn’t face it.
-when he found out you forgave him, an invisible weight was lifted off of him. But as he saw you be so quiet, he could feel his hands sake and his body almost collapse. He did this. He hurt his lover. He could never trust himself with you like he used to again.
-was oh so careful with you since then.. but could never shake the guilt
velikan:
-he HATED you when he thought you were a traitor. He had deleted every photo. Burnt every gift. Broke any shared thought. So finding out he had lost all of that hurt him so much he sat and cried for days, begging and pleading to anything that time could rewind and that he could have his memories and gifts back
-he tried so hard to make new ones with you to, he basically followed you like a lost puppy. But he knew even though you forgave him, he was damned to feel guilt every time you weren’t your same old self
-he missed his memories of you in photos and pages of his journals, he missed your bright smile and loud confidence, he missed all the things you changed from trauma he didn’t stop
-he hated himself for hating you when you were so innocent
keegan:
-he felt rage, rage at his teammates, rage at the captain who reported you for suspicious activity, and most of all, rage at himself for not protecting you like he always promised you he would
-couldn’t stand seeing you flinch, couldn’t stand not being able to reassure you that it would be okay and that he would protect you if it ever happened again
-because he knew his words of protection didn’t mean anything now. He had failed to protect you and even participated in harming you for something as simple as a claim…
kreuger:
-he thought that as soon as he started to fix things, you yourself would get fixed. But he was so wrong
-tried anything he could think of to make you feel safe to be yourself again, and whenever it didn’t work he’d secretly shed a tear
-it was like seeing his lovers ghost.. you weren’t you anymore, and it shattered him so much that he couldn’t fix it
-he could fix his guns, he could clean up your wounds, he could tell you that it was okay to be yourself again, he could fix the broken mirrors in his room, but he couldn’t fix you. He couldn’t get you back the way he remembered you, and he knew no matter how many years of therapy kortac paid for, it still wouldn’t fix you perfectly…
670 notes · View notes
maidragoste · 5 months
Text
Promises
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THG AU
Victor!Aegon II Targaryen x Victor!Reader
Summary: President Snow announces that in the next Quarter Quell, the tributes will be reaped from among the victors.
Logically I should have posted the Jace games first but it's been a while since I posted anything about Aegon and I was excited haha
Edit: The first chapter of the Jace games is now available.
Likes, reblogs and comments are always appreciated. Please, if you enjoyed this reading, let me know in the comments or in my inbox, that always motivates me to continue writing 💖💖
My inbox is open so I'm always willing to read your headcanons, opinions and answer your questions.
Disclaimer: English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes.
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You were in the house of Viserys Targaryen like the rest of the victors from your district. Of course, you had to drag Aegon's drunk ass out of his house and bring him here first. Everyone was waiting for the broadcast about the seventy-five Hunger Games. All the Hunger Games were bloody but this year was the third quarter quell and in each quarter quell they modified the rules with the purpose of making the games even more brutal and more difficult to win. In the last quarter quell instead of sending two tributes per district they sent four so you couldn't even imagine what they planned to do now.
You locked eyes with Rhaenyra as you heard her father laugh at his own joke. She, like you, seemed to be anxious about the announcement because she kept spinning her rings.
“That's enough,” you said when you heard Alicent, Aegon's mother and Viserys' wife, sigh for the fifth time when she saw that her son wouldn't stop drinking. You tried to take the bottle from him but he slapped you and looked at you annoyed. Rhaenyra was ready to intervene but you waved her hand at her telling her you could handle it. “At least you can share a little,” you complained.
Aegon looked at you suspiciously. It wouldn't be the first time that you asked him to share his alcohol with you and then didn't return the bottle or in any case threw away all its contents. He groaned as he watched you pout before handing you the bottle. You smiled at him making a small smile appear on his face. Even so, he watched you carefully as you drank his whiskey, when he thought it was enough he abruptly took the bottle from you, causing the liquid to drip onto your chin. He laughed at your annoyed look as you wiped yourself with your hand. Rhaenyra shook her head at their foolishness.
President Snow finally appeared on the screen. Aegon's laughter stopped as did the conversation between Daemon, Viserys, and Harrold. At first, there was nothing out of the ordinary, as every year he talked about the uprising against the Capitol and how significant the games were until…
"On the 75th anniversary, as a reminder to the rebels that even the strongest among them cannot overcome the power of the Capitol"You didn't know why but you couldn't help but get tense, you felt your stomach drop, you tried to calm by telling yourself that surely it was just the drink you had that was bad for you and you leaned back from the couch, listening even more attentively to the speech. "the male and female tributes will be reaped from their existing pool of victors."
You heard Alicent's screams. You watched as Rhaenyra got up from the couch and left the house. You flinched at the sound of breaking glass. The president's voice was no longer heard and the smell of whiskey filled the place. Aegon was no longer next to you, he found himself banging his head against the wall as he screamed. You felt like your heart was going a mile a second. You had a lump in your throat and your chest hurt and all you wanted to do was join in the screaming and smash things but that wouldn't help. Aegon needed you, Aemond and Daeron were busy trying to calm their mother down while Viserys carried a frightened Helaena to her room and Harrold along with Willis was trying to stop Daemon from destroying the kitchen as he had done with the vases in the living room.
You stood up and didn't bother to dodge the glass as you walked towards the youngest male victor in your district. You tugged at the back of his shirt, managing to move him away from the wall for a brief moment.
“Aegon! Stop” you shouted in a broken voice as you saw her hit herself again.
Hearing your voice like that Aegon turned to see you. There was now a bloody gash on his forehead and his eyes were manic. For a brief moment you thought he would attack you but all he did was pull your body towards his and entice you into a tight hug.
“We can't go back. I can’t go back” You felt his body shake as he sobbed and your heart broke for him. You knew Aegon's head couldn't handle surviving another arena, he spends all his time drinking to stay groggy and avoid thinking about all the people he killed. Even most of the time he only managed to fall asleep after having been drinking non-stop. "I can not do it"
“You won't,” you promised, caressing his cheeks, your head already hatching a plan. District One has five living male victors: Viserys, Daemon, Aegon, Willis Fell, and Harrold Westerling. There were chances that Aegon's name wouldn't come up in the reaping but if it did then Daemon could offer himself as a tribute. He would do it if you volunteered in Rhaenyra's place and if you promised to help him keep his girlfriend from District Four alive.
“I can't lose you,” he said, resting his forehead against yours. Maybe he was lucky and his name didn't come up in the reaping but you had less chance. You and Rhaenyra were the only living victors in the district. If your name came up he knew his sister wouldn't show up as a tribute. She may not depend on being drunk to keep her calm but he had witnessed how she would sometimes wake up screaming and the dark circles under her eyes were evidence that she could sometimes go days without sleep.
And those words ended up destroying you. You started crying with him. You wanted to be strong but you couldn't. You didn't want to go back to the arena either, you were supposed to be free after winning the games, and you didn't want to kill again, much less people you know. You may not be friends with every victor but during these years as a mentor, you had at least spoken once with each one.
Your stomach twisted as you thought that maybe it was one of your friends who would finish you off. Would they be merciful and give you a not-so-painful death? You didn't believe it because you knew that the people in the Capitol liked the show, they got bored with a simple death, and they wanted to see blood. So if Arryk, Tyland Johanna, and Sabitha wanted to live they would have to put on a show to gain sponsors.
Perhaps the easiest thing would be to commit suicide in the games, you would bring dishonor to your district—you wouldn't be the first, people still didn't see Viserys as a true victor after having betrayed his cousin by killing her while she slept—but at least you wouldn't have to kill anyone. The president couldn't punish you, he had already taken away your loved ones after you refused to prostitute yourself and killed the one who was supposed to be your biggest sponsor, he had only wanted you to come out alive so he could obtain your body.
You could die by eating some poisonous bug, plant, or fruit like Jacaerys Strong and her district mate had tried to do at the last minute. Supposedly they had done it because they were in love and didn't dare to be in a world without each other but you were sure it was an act. You could come to believe that the girl is in love but the boy does not seem natural with every display of affection in public.
“It's not fair,” you whispered in disbelief when you realized that they were all being punished because of the last victors. They had done their act of rebellion by threatening to eat poisonous berries so that there would be no winner of the games after announcing that the rule that there could be two winners if they were part of the same district was revoked. “It's not fair,” you moved your hands away from Aegon's face for fear that in your state of fury, you might end up scratching him. “I want them dead.”
You were too deep in your head to notice Aegon looking at you in dismay. Tears didn't stop flowing from your eyes but there was no longer fear in them but fury and determination. You have the same look you had during your Hunger Games.
You may die in these hunger games but at least before you leave you would make sure to make the so-called lovers of District Twelve pay for ruining what little peace you and Aegon had. You would make them wish they had died in their games.
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These days it seemed like all you felt was anger. Angry at President Snow, at the Capitol, at Jacaerys Strong, and the girl from Twelve. But right now the one you were angry at was Aegon. The day after the announcement about vassalage was made, all the victors agreed that they would train together and get in shape for these games. The only one who had continued training all these years was Daemon, so the rest had a lot to catch up on, especially Viserys and Harrold—because of their age—and Aegon—because of his alcoholism—so when it was about to be a week and the idiot still didn't leave his house, you got angry.
You entered his house with the key he gave you a year ago. You found him sleeping on the couch with several bottles, some empty and others still unopened, on his table. You bit the inside of your cheek to avoid waking him up by screaming. The best thing would be to take advantage of the fact that he was asleep to get rid of any alcohol that was in the house. You started by inspecting the entire house and ended up throwing the contents of two flasks that were in his bathroom, five bottles of whiskey that you found in his room, and five bottles of vodka in his kitchen, down the drain.
When Aegon woke up he found you putting the bottles that were on his table into a garbage bag. He rubbed his eyes tiredly and once his vision fully focused he slowly stood up. He walked towards you and he hugged you from behind. Feeling your body he tensed he left a kiss on the back of your neck hoping you would relax but instead, he earned a slap on his hands that were on your waist. The blonde grumbled and walked away from you, finally realizing your bad mood.
“Go take a bath” you ordered without looking at him and continuing with your cleaning task.
Aegon listened to you, of course, he left before grumbling, revealing his displeasure at your cold tone towards him, hoping that once he was clean you would let him hug you and kiss you. At the thought of having your sweet lips, he soon took a quick shower and didn't even bother to dry his hair well before coming down to meet you in the kitchen. I smile at you when I see that you have made him eggs and toasted him bread. Before eating he wanted to look for a bottle of vodka to accompany the meal but he found his shelf empty.
“No more alcohol,” you declared, making the blonde turn to look at you with a frown. “Don't even try, I got rid of everything” you said when you saw him opening another shelf.
“You have no right!” He reproached you, pointing his finger as he walked towards you. You didn't flinch at his angry look nor did you try to escape when he placed both of his hands on the table, leaving you caged between his body and the table.
“You told me you couldn't lose me” The man looked at you confused without understanding what this had to do with you taking away his alcohol “So I'm training and I'm trying hard for these games for you” You felt heat on your face because of what you were about to say, you weren't used to being so open with your feelings. “I want you to do the same for me. I want you to train with me and the rest of the victors. I want you to promise me that you will give everything you have to win these games because I can't lose you either, I couldn't bear to live without you” Your voice broke at the end and you closed your eyes.
You needed Aegon to promise you so you could be a little calmer, you had already spoken with Daemon and he accepted your deal but you were still afraid that he would betray you at the last minute, you needed to know that Aegon would not give up if he went to the arena.
Feeling his chest warm at your words Aegon grabbed you by the waist to bring you even closer to him and captured his lips with yours. It didn't take long for you to move your lips in tandem with him. While he got drunk with the sweetness of your lips and melted before your touch, he couldn't help but think that this was the way he wanted to spend his last days, by your side. He also wanted to hit his past self for not taking advantage of every moment he had with you. If only he had made the effort to be a decent man and become someone worthy of you he would have told you a long time ago that he loves you. But he didn't and he didn't want to tie you down to spending the rest of your life with a useless drunk so he kept his feelings to himself and settled for those shared nights.
A growl left his lips as you broke the kiss. He tried to kiss you again but you moved your face making him pout.
"Please, Aegon. I need you to train. I need you to try and fight for us."
He hated that look in your eyes. He could see the fear and sadness in them. And knowing that he was one of the reasons you were unhappy made him feel a pit in his stomach. He didn't like the idea of having to fight Daemon and obey his orders, but he would do it for you.
"I will do it, I promise"
Maybe later when he is crying and with sore muscles he would regret it but seeing how your eyes lit up and the bright smile you gave him he didn't believe that would happen.
"I love you" he finally confessed his feelings and smiled when he saw the surprise in your eyes "I love you. I love you. I love you" he repeated while he spread kisses all over your face.
A mixture of laughter and sobs escaped your lips. You were happy to know that he also felt the same as you, you had long wanted to hear those words, but your heart ached knowing that you would not be able to spend the rest of your life at Aegon's side. It was a bittersweet feeling.
"I love you too," you declared through tears.
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Note
Would you be willing to write how the brothers (any you decide but at least leviathan mammon and belphie) as well as any side characters (Raphael and barbatos perhaps?) would react to us/the reader telling them "you always were my favourite." ? Thank you even if you don't do my request I love how you characterize them. You write Raphael really well also [: - ⛓️
telling them they're your favorite
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includes: older brothers, belphie, barbatos, raphael x/& gn!reader, luke & gn!reader (no pronouns mentioned)
wc: .7k | rated g | m.list
a/n: ught this was so fun to write and tysm!! i hope you enjoy! my inbox is open to chat, req, and leave feedback so come say hi &lt;3
reblogs plz =)
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➳ lucifer flicks a glance over at you. “is that so?” he asks, brow raising. “i thought you didn’t have favorites.” “well, i would never admit it to the rest of them, but you just get me so well. and cause me the least number of headaches,” you reply, and he lets out a half-chuckle. “i wonder why you’re admitting it to me now,” lucifer ponders aloud. “it probably has nothing to do with the fact that i know you’re hungry and know i keep snacks hidden in my desk.”
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➳ mammon loses his composure quickly, sputtering. you don’t think you’ve ever seen his cheeks get that red that fast. he recovers after a long moment, chest puffing out. “i always knew it,” he insists, pride heavy in his tone. “i mean, i am your first man an’ all. it’s only natural that you’d like me best, especially since i am the coolest and best-looking of all of us.” you laugh, and he goes on. “but ya should tell me. why exactly am i your favorite and what do you like about me best?”
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➳ levi shakes his head. “no, you’re just saying that to cheer me up. there’s no way a gross, lonely, yucky otaku like me is your favorite!” “you shouldn’t say those things about yourself,” you insist, laying on the puppy-dog eyes for n extra guilt factor. “it makes me sad. and i hate seeing my favorite–or should i say my bias?–sad.” levi gives you a little half-smile, convincing clearly working, and you decide to go in for the kill, prey upon his envy. “but i suppose if you don’t want to be my favorite i can pick someone else…” wow, did that turn his mind around!
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➳ belphie huffs out a laugh. “please, i know you wouldn’t actually ever admit it, even though it’s true. what is it you want?” even if you insist, you know he won’t believe you, or at least believe you’re actually admitting it like he said, so you just come clean. “well, i need a ride and mammon’s the only other one home but he always makes me give him gas money.” “i knew you wanted something,” belhie grumbles good-naturedly as he pulls himself out of bed. “fine, but only if i get payment of my own. don’t you think a kiss should be enough?” his eyes slant devilishly. “at least to start.”
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➳ barbatos smirks. “i didn’t know my food was that good.” “are you kidding me?” you reply, grabbing another mini-cupcake. “these are so freaking good. barbatos, if you promised to bake for me every day i’d marry you in a heartbeat.” this gets a rare true smile out of him, one complete with crinkles at the corners of his eyes. “don’t let anyone else hear you saying that,” he warns, “or else you’re going to have a bunch of wannabe-bakers messing up the kitchen at the house of lamentation, and is that something you really want to deal with?”
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➳ luke pumps his fist, vibrating with excitement. “i knew it! i knew it, i knew it, i knew it! of course you like me the most, especially compared to those mean demons!” wrapping his arms around your waist, he gives you a tight hug, looking up at you affectionately. “you’re my favorite too, mc! besides simeon of course, but no one will ever beat him.” you laugh, ruffling his hair, and even though it’s mean of you to think you’re sure if he were a puppy his tail would be wagging a million times a minute. “well, it is simeon so i suppose that’s fine.”
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➳ raphael blinks uncomprehendingly. “me? i’m your favorite? but, we haven’t even known one another for that long and you seem so close with the brothers!” before he can fully spiral, you smile, knocking against his shoulder. “and? i really like you. you’re kind, smart, genuine, and a good mediator. why wouldn’t you be my favorite?” you leave then, but for the rest of the day note the small, bashful smile he wears, and the way he can’t make eye-contact for more than a few seconds at a time without looking away, ears turning the slightest bit red.
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leviathans-watching's work - please do not copy, repost, or claim as your own
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mistydeyes · 7 months
Text
suppressed feelings of hatred
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┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊
summary: With the 141 gone and transferred to somewhere unknown, your life should've returned back to normal but you still find your self haunted by a singular man.
part i - behind closed doors part ii - hollow apologies and avoiding glances part iii - half empty glasses with unchanging perspectives
pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x gn!reader (but like not even a pairing at this point lol)
okay real talk here and same psa as before but please do not read if you are not comfortable with ANY OF THIS! it is upsetting in all aspects!!
warnings: mentions of torture/violence/cuts/scars, swearing, blood, abusive language, ANGST GALORE
a/n: AS PROMISED here we have part iv! not as heavy as the previous ones but trust me it sets up the next part of their story. i also have a few asks in my inbox with some amazing ideas and thoughts on the story so be sure to look for a q+a coming up!
 💌 @nadinesabre @casualunknownrunaway @originaldeerhottub @justpasssingby @missroro @josieguts @miss-i-ship-it @sicknasty03 @jojoblossom @azwong @shadofireshinobi @caramlizedtomatoes @deltottoro @kenz-ee @teehee-47 @tiredmetalenthusiast @hollowmasque @strawberrychita @capricorn-anon @rapture2009 @studioghiblijiji @bitchoftoji @mikeswifie
and for @lirikonjaa mmmmm just gotta be searching for that happy ending bc HAHa DARK TIMES ARE BACK FOR ECLIPSE
┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊
“Love, it’s time to wake up,” you could hear a voice reassure you as you stretched your tired limbs in the warm sheets. You lazily moved the hair out of your eyes as you adapted to the stream of morning light. The room was warmly aglow and smelled vaguely of cinnamon and pancakes. Despite the unknown location, you felt comforted by the figure by your side. “Did you sleep well?” the voice asked as you turned over. In your bed, lay Simon with a boyish smile on his rested face. His torso was exposed and revealed a soft web of silvery scars.“Well enough,” you replied as you put a hand on his turned side. He moved an arm to caress your form. His touch was soft as he ran his fingers along your naked body. As you embraced the radiant sun and his smile, you could feel his arm move up to your shoulder and neck. “What are you doing?” was all you could muster out before you felt his hands tighten ever so slowly around your neck. “I’ll make sure to do the job right this time.”
“GET OFF OF ME!” you screamed as you jerked forward. Your forehead was slick with sweat as you gripped the cold sheets. You tore them off, exposing yourself to the night air of your quarters. You couldn’t help but throw the bottle of Trazadone that was mockingly sitting on your nightstand. It was added to your hefty regiment after you complained of insomnia and the inability to relax. Now you were blessed with horrifying dreams and the image of a singular masked individual.
Mere hours later you made the quick jog to your workstation. You could see your reflection on the shined letters of the wing. THE EDUCATIONAL & TRAINING SERVICES SECTOR it read and you couldn't help but scoff. Rather than a decorated and experienced sergeant, you were relinquished to be a glorified teacher's assistant. As you entered the bright desk space, you greeted your commanding officer with a monotone, "Good morning." He followed you as you sunk down at the sturdy wooden desk with the current files of the newest recruits. "Fresh from Pirbright," he commented before patting your shoulder and walking away. Even at the slight, platonic touch, you could feel shivers envelop your body. You dug your fingernails into the woven fabric of your khaki trousers as you tried to slow your breathing. "Everything alright?" your colleague asked as she looked around her stack of the newest training programmes and manuals. You gave her a slight wave of the hand and returned to the files. "Someone needs their coffee," she commented under her breath and it took everything in you not to throw the stack at her bun.
The day dragged on painstakingly slowly as you flipped through the confidential files of young teenagers, so full of life and energy. You envied their excitement in the photos as through their stoic smiles, you could see light within their eyes. You were like that once, 16 and ready to serve your country. Emphasis on once. "You don't know what you're getting yourself into," you could feel yourself repeating internally. When it came to the next file, you immediately slammed it closed, cutting your index finger in the process. You held your finger to your mouth, feeling nauseous at the taste of iron on your tongue. You could feel the pressure mount as you felt the piercing gaze of the office center on your hunched-over figure. Before anyone could rush over with fake sympathies, you slowly opened the file as it lay mockingly on your desk. 
You held in all emotions as you looked at the singular picture of the newest recruit. The name and details of the potential soldier grew hazy in your eyes but that wasn't what you found yourself focusing on. The boy's eyes were brown, almost black in the darkened lighting of the Pirbright intake center. The darkness dissipated into his deep eye bags which conveyed sleepless nights and perpetual insomnia. However, what made your throat rise in anxiety and ears ring with white noise was the way the deep-set eyes and feathery lashes stared into your soul. For those weren't the eyes of this random recruit, they were the eyes of a pre-mature killer. The eyes of a future torturer who coincidentally resembled the singular man who haunted your every dream. They contained the aura of a cold-hearted man, the eyes of Ghost.
As you felt exposed under the strong gaze, you could hear someone clear their throat behind you. "Something the matter, Sergeant?" your commanding officer said, a hint of kindness and concern in his voice. You struggled to keep your cool as you turned back to him. "Just a little tired, Captain," you replied to the best of your ability, "you know the eye strain and all." As you covered your lie with a hollow laugh, he shook his head. "Take the rest of the day off," he instructed, "Pirbright isn't bussing them over until next week." With that, you got up from your desk and pocketed your few belongings. You could feel your fingernails pierce into the thin flesh of your palms as you exited. You wanted to scream the minute you entered back into the hallway to the barracks. You hated the way people looked at you like a kicked puppy or the sympathetic tones that laced every conversation. Hell, ever since last month, you should've been ecstatic. 
"We're transferring," Gaz said after a surprise visit to your side of the base. You were enraged at the bold gesture as he stood there in his stupid cap. He was in your safe space, the only place you could run away from it all and not have to have any reminder of them. To his "farewell", you nodded as you gritted your teeth. It was a thoughtless gesture that he saw through. A pitiful attempt to keep up appearances to the gazes of the office. "That's great news," you said, fake enthusiasm coating your voice. His smile faltered as he stuck out a hand to you. Staring back at it, you let your facade fall and put your hands back behind your back. "Goodbye, Gaz." you simply remarked before retreating out of his pitiful sight. 
Yet as you returned back to your dim room, you felt like you were drowning in a sea of emotions. You kicked the closed door before turning on the lights to reveal a small manila folder on the ground. You cautiously approached it before picking it up gingerly and laying it on your desk. As you opened the folder up, you were distracted by a singular bold color in your periphery. A red post-it note. You found yourself grinning at the sight of it as you held it in your trembling hands. The file's contents were the least of your concerns as you smiled at the words scribbled in black ink. It practically looked like a calling card that answered your frustrations, as if someone knew and shared in your deep hatred for the 141. “Heard you needed someone, contact P.G. You know where to find him, Eclipse.”
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Walk The Line.
Carmen gets a little jealous. You don’t mind in the slightest.
roommate!carmen berzatto x female reader
warnings - smut. cursing. semi public antics.
word count - 2.5k
authors note - ask and you shall receive 😌. i’ll never get enough of roommate!carmy. i’ll be writing him forever. <3
as always, if you enjoyed this, please consider reblogging!! reblogs are the only way to circulate my writing, which generates more of it. feel free to send me a comment or an inbox, too!! thanks, my loves!! <3
series masterlist. masterlist. inbox.
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He’s a little out of his depth, admittedly.
The invitation had been slid under your front door, pretty handwriting on creamy paper.
“A… party?”
“Does it say party, Carmen?”
“No, it says ‘mixer.’ What the fuck is a mixer?”
You laugh, scrubbing a mark off the final dish in the sink before placing it down in the drying rack. Carmy is sat on the counter across the kitchen, reading the invite over and over.
“Seriously, babe. The fuck does mixer mean? So it isn’t a party?”
You dry your hands and make your way over to take the paper from him, eyes scanning over it carefully.
“A mixer is like… a get to know each other thing. It’s sort of like a party, I guess, but not really. Just a casual gathering type situation.”
“Sounds fucking stupid,” he grumbles.
You smack his shoulder, rolling your eyes.
“Lighten up, asshole. It could be fun.”
“Fun? You think having a mixer with all the neighbours from our building on a Friday night is gonna be fun?”
“I think it sounds like an incredible time. My ideal evening. I can’t wait.”
You can’t even pretend not to laugh, grabbing onto his thigh to keep yourself balanced. He puts his hands on your shoulders, trying to look serious, but the grin fighting its way up his cheeks gives him away.
“You really wanna go?”
“Carm, if it’s terrible, we’ll just lie and say we’ve got plans elsewhere. We’ll run away screaming if we need to. It might be good for us though, to meet our neighbours properly. It’s good to get to know them, just in case we ever need anything.”
“What, like a cup of sugar? What is this, the thirties?”
“When you’re testing recipes and fucking them all up, you might be grateful to be able to nip next door and borrow a cup of sugar.”
“I don’t fuck recipes up.”
“No? Then why were you yelling at a lavender and oat crème brûlée last week?”
“It was mocking me,” he grumbles under his breath, hanging his head.
You can’t help but laugh, moving closer to stand between his manspread legs where he still sits on the counter. You brush a piece of hair back from his forehead, tracing your index finger in a featherlight touch down the bridge of his nose. He looks down at you, eyes glued to yours.
“I know for a fact you don’t have anything else planned on Friday,” you whisper.
He rolls his eyes but leans into your touch anyway, where you’re still tracing along the features of his face.
“You promise we can leave if it’s terrible?”
“We literally live in this building. We can just walk up the stairs and be home.”
He huffs, but relents.
“Fine. But please don’t leave me alone with all of the middle aged moms. They love me.”
“Oh, I’m sure they do,” you giggle, leaning in to rest your head on his chest. His arms encircle you, pulling you as close as he can.
Is this scene too intimate for roommates? Without a doubt.
Do either of you care? Not in the slightest.
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
It’s not as bad as he thought it’d be.
The middle aged moms have pulled through, actually. The lobby is decorated with fairy lights, tables covered in alcohol set up against the walls. Everyone has a drink in their hand, chatting and mingling amongst themselves.
You and Carmen walk downstairs a little late. He’d finished his shift and run home to shower and make himself look semi presentable before facing the neighbours.
“We need a signal,” he says suddenly, right as you reach the staircase. “In case of emergencies.”
“Pat your head.”
“Real subtle.”
“It doesn’t need to be subtle, it needs to be noticeable for me.”
“Fine,” he mutters, bumping his shoulder into yours. “Don’t leave me alone with that Erica lady. She scares me.”
“Yes sir,” you mock salute, slipping your hand into his momentarily. “You’ll be fine, Carmen. Like I said, we’ll just leave if it’s awful.”
It’s not awful, actually. It’s quite fun.
It’s nice to get to know the people in your building, seeing as you have lived there for a couple of years now. Carmen has been there even longer.
“Excuse me, sweetheart?”
You turn around to be met with an old lady, leaning carefully on her cane.
“Yes, ma’am?”
“I’m Dorothy. I live in 2B, and I just had to tell you that you look beautiful in your dress.”
You smile, pulling out a chair for her, which she takes gladly. You sit down next to her, spotting Carmy chatting with a couple of guys across the room.
“Thank you so much!”
You introduce yourself, telling her your name and apartment number.
“Ah yes,” she hums in recognition. “You live with your boyfriend who has all the tattoos.”
You almost choke on your drink.
“We’re just roommates,” you say eventually. “But yes, that’s him.”
“Oh, my apologies. I just assumed.”
You’re curious, suddenly. You know you shouldn’t be, but you can’t help yourself.
“Can I ask? Why you… thought we were dating?”
She chuckles knowingly before placing a hand on your knee.
“Honey, he’s got a hand on you at all times. He looks at you like you are the sun. Every time you walk past my window, you’re both laughing. Sounds like love to me.”
Her bluntness is refreshing, if not a little intimidating. No one will say it how it is more than a little old lady who can’t mind her business.
“We, uh… we’re close. He’s a good roommate. A good friend.”
She doesn’t look convinced in the slightest, chuckling as she pats your leg.
“Uh huh. That’s what I said about my husband - real good friend. We’ve been married 58 years.”
You smile, shaking your head.
“Is he here with you?”
“He’s upstairs. He can’t really leave the apartment, these days.”
“You know, if you ever need anything, me and Carmen would be happy to help.”
“No, sweetheart, I couldn’t ask you to-”
“-you’re not asking me, I’m offering. Carmen is an award winning chef at one of the best restaurants in this city. He’d be more than happy to make a meal or two when needed. And I can pick you guys up stuff from the grocery store when I go, too.”
“Thank you,” she whispers, grabbing your hand in her frail one. “You’re good kids, you two.”
You grin at her, squeezing her hand gently.
“You know where I am, if you need me.”
She nods, standing up carefully.
“I’m going to go see if that handsome Jeremy will come and fix my shower for me. He did promise.”
You laugh, watching as she makes a beeline for one of the dads stood in a huddle. You catch eyes with Carmy, who’s still chatting away with a few of the younger guys. He winks at you, all cheeky and carefree, and you can’t help but flush, heat prickling across your skin. You shake your head, smiling, winking back.
Suddenly, there’s a hand on your bicep. You spin sideways, to be met with the sight of a very handsome man. Dark hair, big brown eyes, tall - he looks slightly like a movie star you can’t quite remember the name of. You crane your neck to meet his gaze, smiling softly.
He holds out his hand to introduce himself.
“Hi, I’m Daniel.”
You tell him your name, trying to ignore how his hand engulfs yours.
“Pretty name for a pretty girl.”
You laugh, shaking your head.
“Have you lived here long? Think I’d remember a face like yours.”
Now he shakes his head.
“A month, maybe. I live in 6C. I’ve been working a lot, so haven’t had any time for introductions.”
“Ah. What do you do?”
“I’m a model.”
Of course he is.
“What do you do?”
As you start to tell him, his eyes fix on yours, not leaving for a moment. He listens carefully, both of you blocking out the noise and focusing on each other.
Turns out, Daniel is good company. The two of you find a spot in the corner, away from the noise and the wine drunk moms. The two of you laugh, joke, and talk about Chicago as if you’re old friends. Time slips away from you easily, conversation flowing with minimal effort.
“I don’t want to leave, trust me… but I have a super early call time tomorrow. If you wanted, we could grab a drink sometime, somewhere that’s not our buildings lobby?”
You laugh, nodding.
“Yeah, I’d like that. It was nice to meet you, Daniel.”
“You too. Here,” he says, handing you a small business card with his number on, “text me.”
“I might do just that,” you tease as he walks away grinning.
You’re on your way to grab another drink when a hand slinks around your wrist.
“Hi, Carmen.”
You don’t even have to turn to know who it is, recognising the feeling of his calloused hand against your soft skin.
“Where’s your friend gone?” he all but grumbles.
“He’s gone home, got to be up early for work.”
“Haven’t we all.”
“Ooo, okay Mr Attitude. You’re not having a good night? You didn’t give me the signal.”
“Would you have noticed if I did?”
You spin around to face him properly now.
“Yes, I would have. Because we’re in a tiny fucking lobby and not a football stadium, Carmen.”
He huffs.
“Didn’t think you’d notice if the building fell down, the way you were lost in his eyes.”
“I know it’s a foreign concept to you, Carmen, but eye contact is actually a very important part of conversation. Try it some time.”
Carmy rolls his eyes, grip on your wrist tightening.
“Come on,” he mumbles. “Wanna show you something.”
He practically drags you up the stairs, and up some more, and up some more. Eventually, you reach the roof.
The sun is just setting, casting the city in a warm orange glow. Everything is so calm, so peaceful, so serene. It’s beautiful.
You’re admiring the view when suddenly your feet are no longer on the ground. Carmy has you over his shoulder, carrying you across the rooftop to the brick wall.
“The fuck are you doing?” you cry as he finally puts you down.
He smashes his lips to yours, choosing to shut you up rather than answer you. You kiss back eagerly, confused but not disappointed at the turn in events. Slipping your hands into his hair, you tug him into you, groaning as he grabs at your ass.
“Carmen,” you breathe, “why don’t we just go home?”
“Where’s the fun in that?” he mumbles against your neck, pressing kisses wherever he can reach. When he bites down, you smack his shoulder.
“No marks, asshole. The fuck is up with you?”
Again, he says nothing, just slips his hand under your dress to run his fingers over your underwear. You part your legs instantly, leaning back into the wall to steady yourself.
“Carmen, someone’s gonna see if they come up here.”
“Well then you better come quickly.”
He slips your panties to the side, running his fingers through your wet heat. You keen, knees buckling already.
“Oh baby,” he chuckles. “This all for Daniel?”
It all clicks for you suddenly.
“That’s what-” you choke as he slides a finger into you. “That’s what - fuck - has you so riled up? Daniel?”
“Don’t say his name when I’m knuckle deep, baby. It’s rude.”
You attempt to scoff, but it comes out as more of a moan when he presses his thumb to your clit, circling carefully.
“Am I not giving you what you need, honey? Is that it? Greedy girl just wants more, so she looks elsewhere to get it?”
“No,” you justify quickly. “You know that’s not true.”
“If you can still form sentences, I’m clearly doing something wrong.”
He slips a second finger in, curling them exactly the way he knows you like.
“Carm.”
“He couldn’t make you feel like this, babe. You and I both know it.”
You’re nodding, fingers gripping his shirt tightly as if you’re scared he’s going to walk away. His lips press into your neck again, nipping along the expanse of skin.
“Say it.”
“Hmm?”
You’re dazed, mind hazy with Carmen Carmen Carmen Carmen Carmen.
“Say. It.”
He punctuates his words by curling his fingers harshly. You’re seeing stars, legs giving out.
“He - he… fuck, Carmen, please.”
“So close, honey. Try again.”
You know he won’t relent. He never does, when he’s in a mood. You have to just give him what he wants.
“He couldn’t make me feel this good, Carm. It’s all for you, only you.”
“Good girl. Knew you could do it.”
With that, he speeds up his fingers, his other arm snaking around your back to keep you standing upright.
“Give it to me, baby. Know you want to. That’s it, atta girl.”
“Come for me, there we go. Can feel you.”
“Good girl, good fuckin’ girl. So pretty like this.”
You fall over the edge, clenching like a vice around his fingers as you throw your head back. There’s a sheen of sweat coating your skin, chest heaving with every breath you take. Your vision goes white for a second, gripping onto Carmy’s biceps for dear life.
You rest your forehead against his chest, panting as you try to recover.
“Jealous Carmen is kinda mean,” you mumble into his shirt.
He laughs, wrapping his arms around you.
“You know I didn’t mean it, right? You’re free to date whoever you want. You could do a lot worse than Daniel the hot supermodel.”
You pull back, looking at him carefully.
“I know. I just… I don’t know if I’ll go. Seems a bit unfair to date him when my mind is on someone else.”
You both know exactly who you mean. You both also know that tipsy on a rooftop is not the place to have that conversation.
“Did you ever master the lavender crème brûlée?”
He chuckles, not expecting the sudden change in subject.
“Yes, I did.”
“Do we have any left?”
“We don’t. But I did make chocolate soufflé this afternoon, if that’ll satisfy your sweet tooth.”
“Fuck, yes,” you grin, leaning in to kiss him tenderly.
“I’ll make you a crème brûlée in work tomorrow. Promise.”
“Will you make two extras?”
He quirks a brow in confusion, so you continue.
“We’ve got two elderly neighbours. They’re not very mobile, so I said we’d drop stuff off every now and again.”
He smiles at you, all soft and melted.
“Of course. That heart of yours is too big for your chest, you know.”
You take hold of his hand, placing it there.
“Only sometimes.”
He kisses you again before throwing an arm over your shoulders.
“Let’s go eat chocolate soufflés and drink the rest of that wine you bought.”
“You’re a mind reader,” you laugh, making your way downstairs.
Maybe he is, you think later. You don’t mind in the slightest.
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spidybaby · 4 months
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Wenasss✨ Not me sneaking into your inbox🤭😅 to kindly ask for Bad Kind of Butterflies part II, please and thanks!🤣🫶🏼
Bad Kind of Butterlies | Part Two
Summary: Pedri regrets his actions and tries to get back to you.
Warnings: fighting, cursing. Physical fight. Part one
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"Pedri, the ball. Keep your eyes on the fucking ball." Xavi yells. "God, what's going on with you today?"
Pedri can't even look at Xavi in the eyes, he has sis eyes glued to the floor. He can feel the looks of his teammates burning him.
"Miss that ball again, and you're benched." Xavi says, stern tone.
"I'm sorry, Mister."
He tries his best to focus on the ball, trying not to miss it or not miss the goal to the net, but he can't keep his mind on the field.
Gavi, playing with the other half of the team, stole the ball from him, making Oscar sound the little whistle.
He just observes the way Xavi is yelling. Tired and really not that interesting, he can't seem to understand a word that's coming out of his trainers mouth.
The training goes on for another half hour, and then they're all reunited in the salon to plan the next game.
The "Real Madrid vs Barcelona" typical classic.
He focuses all his attention on speech Xavi is giving the team. Turning his head to see Ferran typing something on his phone.
He makes the lining, Xavi kept his promise and bench him for the next game. Leaving the possibility of getting back if he improves in this next two trainings.
"Estas bien?" Ferran asks, taking him to the side for them to be alone.
"I'm not sure." He sincerely says. He can't keep secrets ti Ferran. "I just need to keep my head around what's important."
"And she's not?"
"The thought of her is making me be benched. I think I had enough of her for the rest of the week."
He turns to the dressing room, ready to collect his belongings and leave. No shower, no nothing.
But to his bad luck, Ferran is quicker and stops him by the arm. "You can't keep doing this. This is not healthy, Pedro."
"What am I supposed to do?" He angrily says, removing his arm from the hold of his friend. "She won't listen to me, she changed her number, she changed her apartment building. It's like she disappeared."
Ferran was holding the bitter "I told you" He had been keeping since after the party.
When a very angry Gavi told him about the words Eric said to his date and then to Pedro, he was pissed, he wanted to fight him. But, like a rational person, he calmed Gavi down and helped fixing the situation.
What he could help was the disaster Pedri did, yelling at you and fighting with gavi over the words of Eric. Words he warned him about.
"Just please call me if you need anything." He pats Pedri on the back and walks to the showers.
He nods, grabbing his stuff and walking back to his car. He wants to run away from everything and everyone.
Once he makes it to his car, his head feels like it's going to blow up. He'd dizzy and tired.
The way his heart is pounding like crazy and he feels like passing out scares him. This isn't news to him. He was having a panic attack.
He tries to breathe, counting things like you thought him. Five things you can see, four things you can touch, three things you can hear, two things you can smell, and one thing you can taste.
Once he's calmed enough to at least drive himself home, he calls Fer, asking him to be home "I need you, Fer." He says crying.
His brother was worried, his whole family was. He wasn't the sweet, happy and very enthusiastic boy they known. He was now this confused and sad looking boy.
Pedri can't even seem to move upstairs to his room, he can't help the tear falling down, he can't help the blame he feels.
His relationship with Pablo was broken, his relationship with Eric is almost non existent. All thanks to him.
He can't blame Eric for it, he was the one who did all the bad stuffs, hitting your friend, hurting you by not trusting you.
He remembered your words like if you were just telling them to him.
"You're not dumb. You're such a smart man. So I need you to use that intelligence to understand that if you keep doing this shit, you're losing me."
But did he lost you?
He wanted to heard you voice, wanted to hear about that interview you told him about the day of the wedding. He wanted to hear about your new workout routine.
But he can't, because everytime he calls you he hit voice-mail. Everytime he goes looking for you he remembers that a new person lives in that apartment. Everytime he tried to look up for your social media profiles you weren't there.
"And that fucking sucks." He tells Fer, not knowing how else express his feelings.
Fer understand the struggle you both are going through, from his brother side is the blame of making you leave and not being the man you deserved. And he also understand that you want Pedri to change and to fight for you.
Ferran and Fer tried his best to talk to you and convinced you to give Pedri a chance. Thing you denied, you made a promise to yourself, he needed to prove to you that he changed.
You wanted the relationship you had before, the trust, the unconditional love. You wanted to feel joy again, to feel like you could be with him again.
You can't say you had it worse, but you were struggling as well. Sira had to force out of bed and to a local park. You cried like a child in her lap, telling her how much you needed him.
"You don't need someone who can't make an effort of changing. You need to understand that."
She was right, you needed someone who will be there for you in bad and good. During hard and easy.
"Good morning sunshine." Sira yells opening the curtains. The sun hit directly to your face, making you groan and turn around.
"oh, no ma'am." she pulls the duvet in a quick motion. "I made breakfast, get up."
She gave you five minutes to wash your face and brush your teeth. You can't help to feel a little annoyed at the wake-up call Sira pulled.
"Eat, please." She serves the breakfast to you, giving you a fork and a kiss on the cheek.
The day was bright, the sun was shining so much, the view from your apartment was breathtaking, making you feel happy instantly.
"I can't believe we're going to graduate tomorrow." Sira yells while doing a little dance. "I'm so happy for us."
"I am too, thank you for sticking up to me after all this time."
You walk over to her, giving her a big hug. She separates a little, reaching for the grad hat you have in the corner, putting it up on you.
When you broke up with Pedri you had a very bad time, you were in denial, somehow blaming yourself for the things that happened.
Then was the rage, it was not your fault, it was Eric's and Pedro's fault. He was the one believing the disturbing mind of Eric.
Then came the sadness, you were crying like crazy, in the shower, at the movies when Sira and Kyle took you out, at the parking lot of the building.
And now you're just blue.
"We have to go get the dresses, eat and let's go."
When the lease for your apartment concluded. You wanted to move to a smaller place, wanting something more "home like"
Sira was not okay with the decision, she convinced her parents on sharing a Apartment with you while you both figure your life out.
The moving was heartbreaking for you, specially because you couldn't run away from the memories.
"When you graduate, we're moving together. We can remodel the house, giving it your touch, make this place our home."
You used to laugh, thinking it was crazy for him to think about settling down at barely twenty one. "You'll change your mind, Pepi. "
But he cut you off, telling you that there was no other thing in his mind. He can't picture a future without you in it.
"I invite Pablo to the ceremony, and Fernando." You confess.
"Are you sure about that?" She asked worried. "I mean, Pablo I guess but Fer?"
"My family isn't coming, so I have the tickets and the closest thing to a family here is you, your family that is already attending and the González."
"Okay, if you think that's the right think to do, I'm not saying anything."
🪷🪷🪷
"Squish, all of you, let me take a picture." Luis Enrique says. "Okay, in three, two, one, cheese!."
You smile, arm around Sira and Karla.
After what felt like a whole photoshoot, Sira was ready to greet some family members that joined the ceremony.
"Y/n!" you heard at the distance.
You turn around, looking for the voice. It was your favorite angry bird. The big white bouquet of flowers doesn't go unnoticed.
"Felicidades, preciosa." He hugs you with one hand, the flowers getting in the middle of that. "Oops, sorry. This is for you."
"Thank you, Pablito." You hug him carefully this time. "Thank you for coming."
"I was happy when you sent me the invite, Sam says hi and congratulations."
"Are you coming to my party?"
Pablo was about to answer but someone calling you name again interrupting him.
"Fer!" You say, happily about seeing him again. "Thank you for coming." You say, getting squish between his arms.
"Felicidades, hermanita." He kiss your cheek. "Mom and dad are so proud of you, they send their congratulations to you."
You smile at him, the warmth your heart is feeling is making you blush. "Thank you." You whisper. "Pablito and you need to tell me if you're coming tonight."
"I will, what about you, Fer?"
"I can't wait."
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"Okay, it's game day time. Let's finish preparing ourselves, and let's go warm up." Oscar says, excited about the match against RMA.
"Pedri, can I have a minute outside, please." Xavi calls.
He was trying his best to concentrate, head in the game. Even if that sounds like a high school musical thing to say.
"Mira, I know I said that I was benching you." Xavi began, making Pedri nod. "I'm going to make an exception, I'm making Marc play for twenty minutes then you're in."
"I promise that I won't lose the ball." He smiles like the cat in Alice in wonderland. "Gracias, Mister."
Xavi pats his back, smiling back at him. He knows that Pedri has the range, he just needs to take it out in the right place. The field.
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"Finally, a game that was worth to watch." Kyle says, eating the remaining pop corn from the bowl.
This game was very important for the Barcelona, they needed this game to keep themselves at the top of La Liga.
And they did it. They won.
Pedri scored a game thanks to Pablo's passing the ball to him.
"He played really good." Karla comments.
"Yeah, he did." You whisper.
You were proud of him, he was your golden boy after all.
You remembered the first game you went to. He gifted you a shirt with his number. He sent a car to come get you.
That was the first gol he ever dedicated to you. You remember the way you felt, the smile on his face, the aura of the stadium. It was simply magical.
And now you're supporting him from the comfort of your home. Because no matter what, he was all that to you.
But where you still all that to him?
You always kept those thoughts for yourself, your friends were done with you talking about him. Always ending up crying.
"So are we going out tonight?" Karla asks, turning the TV off.
"I don't know if I want to go out guys." You say, washing the dishes from the dinner. "I'm not feeling well."
"A Tylenol and were out and about, my lady." Sira says laughing at your face.
"Fine, but I don't want to he out till five in the morning, please."
"Deal."
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The party was good, you ended up not inviting Kyle because you were feeling like having a girl's night out.
Karla got invited to a vip club that was on the way of your apartment, you were on your way there.
"We're going to the vip section." She says to the bodyguard at the entrance, showing him a picture. "Thank you."
The club was way fuller than the last one, the aura was way better too.
"Y/n, let's get a drink." Sira yells.
"Let's just take Karla to her friends table and we can go, okay?" You yell back, she nods.
Karla was seeing this dude that was a manager of some new footballers, they were young like in La Masia.
The other dudes at the table invited you to different drinks, since they got special treatment because of their vip status.
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You were thankful with your friends, they were making you have so much fun.
"Girls, I'm going to the bathroom." You say to your friends, getting up from your seat and walking to the little outside bathroom they have for the vip rooms.
You got knocked up a little by someone, hitting you shoulder with the door frame. "Fucking idiot." You say to yourself, smoothing the hurt area.
You were washing your hands when someone moved the doorknob, knocking desperately at the door.
"Wait, I'm almost done." You say drying your hands with a paper towel. The person on the other side keeps knocking like crazy. "It's been five seconds like wait." You say.
You open the door and to your surprise the face on the other side of the door is a familiar one. "Y/n?"
"Ferran, hi!"
He walks inside the bathroom, making your way out impossible since he closed the door. "Joer', it's so good to see you." He hugs you for a few seconds.
You can smell the alcohol in his breath, making you scrunch your nose. "Are you alone?" You ask him.
"No, I'm with some friends from Valencia."
"Okay, take care Fer, I need to go back to my friends." You wanted to leave so he can use the bathroom.
"Wait, I want to talk to you." He stops you from opening the door. "Please give me your number."
You think for a few seconds, not sure about the proposal. "What if I wait for you outside?" You smile at him.
"You won't run away?" He asks, you shake your head no. "Pinky promise?" He elevate his pinky finger over to you.
"Pinky promise." You smirk while intertwining fingers with him. "Hurry up." You say, walking outside for him.
A few minutes later you see Ferran dance walk over to you, you smile at this goofiness. You missed that.
"Tell me, Mister paella." You joke, mentioning his nickname you and Pedri gave him.
"I wanted to tell you, more like ask you for a favor." He says breathlessly. "I know you might say no, but I want to try."
You knew where this was going, but you let him continue with his speech. Nodding your head to let him know you heard him and to continue.
"I know that you probably are in a better place and you are moving on, but please heard me out. Pedri is not alright, and you don't own him nothing after the stupid shit he pulled, but please you need to talk to him."
You sigh, you know that he was not having the best development during training or at the matches. Fer told you that already, but he didn't asked for you to reach to him.
"I know I'm asking for too much." He continued. "I'm just out of ideas of what to do with him. Xavi is about to beat his ass, Oscar too, Gavi and him don't even look at each other. We almost beat Eric to the ground with Gavi."
"He deserves that." You scuff. "But I'm not sure what you expect me to do?"
"Can you maybe call him? Or text him?" He asks. "Or I don't know, send him a dm if you don't want to share your number with him."
You think about it for a good minute, you knew that he was struggling, you were too, but you wanted to maybe help him even when he didn't deserved that.
"I'll reach out to him." You finally say. Making Ferran jumps from excitement. "I'll try to find a good time, okay?"
He nods excited, hugging you and giving you a quick kiss in the side of the head. "Thank you, if you need a ride home you can tell me."
"Thank you, I'm good, my friend is driving us." You wave him goodbye. Both of you go back to each vip rooms.
🪷🪷🪷
"Look at this cd" Pablo says, passing the 1989 cd. "What are you doing this December?"
"Well, I was thinking about spending my December here in Barcelona." You say, helping him organizing some pictures. "Aw, young Pablito." You say, showing him the picture.
"Stop that." He laughs. "So you're not going back home?"
"I mean my family is not going to be there, so I might as well be alone here."
"You're welcome to spend time with Sam and with me. Also with my family and me."
"Thank you, crunchy guy." You joke with him.
Now that he's in recovery you can visit him more often. You love watching new movies and shows with him because you have the same taste.
"I want to ask you something." You say, not sure how to approach the topic of Pedri. "But you can tell me if it makes you uncomfortable."
"Okay?" He says, eyes scrunched.
"Ferran and I were at the same club and we find ourselves in the bathroom." You began. "Long story short, he asked me to call Pedri."
"Y/n, I'm not the best to give you advice on this."
"I just need guidance, Pablo." You confess. "I'm not one to ask you anything but just be honest with me."
"Joder" He sighs, hands on his face. "What do you want me to say?"
"How is he?" You ask worried. "Is he doing okay?"
"He came to see me at my recovery the other day." He says, hand scratching his head. "He asked me to forgive him."
You let him take him time to tell you everything.
"We talked and it's not like we are on speaking terms like we used to but we are better."
"That's good, I think you both needed that." You say honestly.
"Now, to answer you. I think he's doing better little by little. He's not the best at hiding his feeling and you know that, he tents to get quiet and death looking." He laughs at the last part. "But, if you want my opinion, I think he needs to fight for you. A call or a text will not harm anyone."
You nod, taking everything he says into consideration. He was right, Pedro had to make some sacrifices for you.
"But, you can do what you think is best." He says, hands in the air.
"Thank you, angry bird." You hug his body, careful with his leg. "Love you."
"Can you show me love in a form of a sandwich?" He asks, batting his eyelashes like a little kid. "Pretty please."
"Just because you're my little baby." You tap his nose with care. Making him laugh. "I'll be back."
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"I was thinking about doing a baking course." You tell Sira, you're at the pool at her parents house. "I want to learn how to do Christmas cookies."
"My mom knows how to, you can ask her to teach you."
"That's better, you're right."
You keep looking at your phone, it's been three weeks since the talk with Ferran and two since the talk with Gavi.
Today they announced that Pedri was feeling some pain in his muscles, so he wasn't training. You know how much that affects Pedro mentally.
"Hey, what if we go change? I kinda want to go shopping." You say, getting out of the pool and walking over to the towel. "You coming?"
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"I'm going to take a shower and we can eat, okay?" You say, hands full of bags. "Chao bella, take a shower please."
You leave everything on a chair next to your bed, the phone in your pocket feels heavy, you know you want to make that call.
You dial his phone number, sitting with your legs crossed on your bed. Your heart is beating like crazy.
"Hola"
Your breath is gone, you suddenly lost the ability to talk.
"Hola?" He repeats.
His raspy voice, his heavy breaths when he's trying to catch air. Simply him.
"Hola." You whisper.
Now is his turn to lost the speech ability. He's frozen. It's been months.
"Y/n?" He asks, not believing you're the one on the line.
"Hola." You repeat. "Te llamé en mal momento?" (Did I call you at a bad time?) You ask, bitting your nails.
"No, de hecho no estaba haciendo nada." You can hear a door closing. "How are you?" (No, I was actually not doing anything)
"I'm good, dealing with life. What about you? I heard about your muscle pain."
Your voice is low, you feel scared of saying something wrong. Even though you're barely at the beginning of the call.
"I've been better, I'm missing the Dallas game." He sighs. "I just feel like every time I'm feeling confident about coming back, my body gets fucked up."
You humm in response, letting him vent his frustration.
"I'm tired honestly, Xavi and Oscar are at the edge with me and I think that with the team. Frenkie barely came back, the team sucks, Gavi is hurt."
"I'm sorry this is going like that." You say, being honest.
"I don't even log into social media anymore. On Twitter and on Instagram the haters keep comparing me with Jude, with Vini, with Rodry. I'm so done, Y/n."
"Ay Pepi, I wish I can say something to make you feel better. But you know I suck at that." You laugh, making him laugh too. "You know you're amazing, and that if Xavi and Oscar get frustrated they don't feel your pain, that's why you have to be open with how your body feels."
"I do, believe me that I do, but I can't help but think that every time I say my muscles hurt, they gave me this disappointed look."
The way his voice break makes your heart hurt. You know from past experiences that his mental health goes down day by day if he overthink about the topic.
"And my parents and Fer try to tell me off of this ideas and I don't think it's working. I just wish I can turn my brain off for the night so I can sleep well tonight."
His breathing is getting heavier by the second, you can pick what's going on. He's overthinking and about to have a panic attack.
"Oye, tell me about that game you wanted to buy." You ask out-of the blue, making his mind think of another think.
"Game? What game?" He asks, voice breaking.
"Yeah, the one you wanted to buy. That one with the cars on it." You explain. "And what about that drink you wanted to try, did you tried it?"
"The green one?"
"Si, that one. Did you tried it? Was it good?"
"It tasted weird, and the game I never bought it. Lost interest on it."
"Okay, what about your mother croquettes?"
"They're so good, I broke diet the other day at Adrian's birthday party."
You can hear the breathing being hard but not as heavy as before. You relax, laying fully on your bed.
"Te amo." He says. "I'm sorry about everything, I'm so dumb. You told me that I was losing you and I never changed. It's my fault you're not next to me, that you're not at my games."
"Pedri, let's not do this." You interrupted him.
"Let me say it, Y/n." He begged. "I need to get this out of me, it's eating me alive."
"Okay, keep going."
"I know Fer went to your graduation. I cried myself to sleep that night, and every night after I lost you. I can't think of anything else." He sobs, making your heart hurt. "And my parents are so fucking mad at me, because how could I lost the girl of my dreams?"
"Pedro." You tried to make him stop.
"And my father told me how disappointed he was of me. He was so mad when I told him the truth. I can't keep doing this without you. You were supposed to be laying next to me, calling this place your home. I'm sorry."
"This is not why I called."
"Tell me what I have to do for you to forgive me." He begged again. "Tell me how can I fix this. Please."
"Pedro, stop."
"Please."
You wanted to hang up, not wanting to give up on all the progress you've made. In the promises you made to yourself.
"I think we both need to take a breath." You laugh nervously. "Please, breathe."
All you can hear was the heavy breathing from your and his side of the call. Your mind running a mile per second.
"Can we met, please?" He asks. Your heart was saying yes, but your mind was more coherent.
You were about to answer when Sira stormed into the room asking you to try something. Pedro heard the voice of her and wondered if you were at his parents house.
"I have to go." You say, hanging up the phone quickly. "What?" You ask Sira, she's looking at you with narrowed eyes.
"You okay?"
"Yes, I was about to take a shower but my mom called."
"Was it bad?" She asked worried. "Do you want to talk?"
"I'm fine, I'm just getting in the shower and then we can have some of that green thing you have in there." You tap her nose and walk quickly to the bathroom.
Pedro was laying on the couch he has in his room, his head pounding like crazy, the tears falling from his eyes, wetting his face.
He walks to his bathroom, he needs to wash his face. He needs to relax and breathe like you told him to.
The way he feels lighter after telling you how he feels was refreshing, his shoulders don't have the weight they used to five minutes ago.
His reflection is like a stranger to him. His dark circles under his eyes now darker, his weight every day less. He can't keep doing this to himself.
You feel the same way as you look at your reflection. The tears pooling that you don't want to let wet your face.
You take deep breaths, the sound of shower and the steam makes you be back from your thoughts. You got into the shower, sliding down the bathroom wall while hiding your face into your hands.
Pedro can't seem to find a way to stop his tears, knees on the floor while the sounds of his painful cry interrupt the peaceful silence of his home.
🪷🪷🪷
"You sure you're okay with me going to this party?"
Ferran invited you to his sister's birthday party, you and her were good friends thanks to Sira. Sadly due to the breakup, Sira didn't wanted to come but sent her a gift.
"Yes, go and have fun. I'm fine here with my book and with my coffee."
You kissed her on the cheek and went on your way, you asked Fer if he was coming but he told you that he was about to leave to Tenerife.
"But if you wonder or not." He says with a funny tone. "Pedri will be home."
You knew that Ferran sister didn't invite him, she told you herself. So you were fine with at least not having to tip toe around.
The party was at this club that Ferran rented for her party, you loved the pink and white theme she chose.
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You were enjoying yourself, finding some in common friends you haven't talk to in a while, the vibes were good and the night was refreshing for you.
You were retouching your makeup at the bathroom. You heard knocking on the door, thinking that maybe they found that the downstairs bathroom was full.
You take the last look at yourself in the mirror. Adjusting you jacket and opening the door, you find the person you wanted to dissappear from this earth.
The way he roll his eyes makes you angry, he was annoyed at your presence? You should be the one that's rolling the eyes at him.
"Move, please." You say, stern tone.
"You're leaving so soon?" He smirks.
You don't think twice and push him to the side, you can hear him fall over to the little sofa that was outside the bathroom.
You walk downstairs, finding the birthday girl and saying your goodbyes to her and to Ferran, who was next to her.
You were walking to your car when you feel someone grabbing you by the arm and throwing you agains a car door.
You groan at the pain that's growing on your side. You put your hand against your ribs, you find hard to breathe.
"You really think you can treat me like shit?"
"Are you out of your right mind?" You whisper, not fully recovered from the impact. "What the fuck."
"You're such a fucking bitch, making my friends be against me, making my team be against me."
"What the fuck are you talking about? You did this to yourself, Eric"
You tried to walk away from him by pushing him but he grabbed you back and stamped you back again. Making the car alarm sound.
"Eric, what the fuck?" You hear someone yell.
You notice how Ferran was running to where you are. Pushing Eric away from you. He shield you with his body.
"Why is everybody defending her?" Eric yells, getting closer again.
"Don't fucking dare."
"I just don't get why everyone believes she's the innocent girl she pretends to be."
You scuff, he's the one mad at you as if he didn't ruined your relationship. "You were the one telling Pedri shit and making him doubt me. You ruined my relationship"
"Oh no, I ruined your little gold digging act? Are you not able to afford rent now?"
"Fuck you." You spat, feeling rage grow inside of you. "Maybe if you use that mind inside the field you would be a good player and not the trash you are."
"Enough!" Ferran yells. "You, go away." He points at Eric. "Now!"
He grabs your arm, making you walk away from the scene. You keep your hand on your side, trying to smooth the area where is hurting.
"Can you drive?" He asks, you nod slowly. "What the fuck, what the actual fuck?" He whispers.
"I'm fine, you can go back to the party, Ferran." You whisper. "Thank you."
"Are you okay?"
"I'm in shock but I'm fine, don't worry about me. Please don't let this ruin the party." You hug him, his hands on your back trying to calm you down.
Even when you don't cry or show any emotion, he knows you're not okay.
"Tell me when you're home"
"Yes, I'll dm you, thank you."
He's back inside once you're on your way at the driveway. You're on autopilot, feeling hazy from all the emotions you're feeling.
You don't even notice the turns you make until you're outside his door. You turn off the car, taking your phone to text him.
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You waited for barely two minutes, the door of his house opening. You take your seat belt off and stretch to the passenger door, opening it for him.
"Hola, preciosa." He says, worried expression on his face. "Are you okay?"
"Want to go for a ride?" You ask, ignoring his question. He nods, asking you to wait for him.
Once he collects his keys and a sweater, he hup up your car and you began the drive. You have a destination in mind.
Hes quiet, not sure if he's supposed to ask you again if you're okay. He's just enjoying seeing you after so long.
"It's too cold for just that jacket." He says, eyes up and down your body.
"It's fine, it keeps me warm." You say, the stern tone of voice worries him. "Seatbealt on." You say when the annoying alarm goes off.
"Yours is off too." He points at your chest, you just groaned, putting the seatbelt on.
Your drive to the highest part of the park. The beautiful view of Barcelona at night welcome you. You turn the car off, getting out as soon as you can.
You wanted to scream.
All you wanted was peace. You wanted to feel like you used to feel before all of this. You wanted to be able to go home and find your boyfriend there or go to his place and share things about your day, share moments with him.
The hands of Pedri on your shoulders feel heavy, you take a step, making the contact break.
"Do you trust me?" You ask on the verge of tears.
"With my life." He answer, not wasting a minute.
"Then why did you do that to me?" You let the tears fall down your face. "Was I not a good girlfriend?"
"Y/n, don't say that." He shake his head no. "You were the best thing I ever had."
"Then tell me, what it was?"
"It wasn't you, it was me. All me." He elevated his voice. Not at you but at the heat of the situation. "It was all me, I was the one who got those stupid ideas in my head, I trusted you, I knew Kyle was nothing but your friend, I knew you were just friends with Pablo, I know you would never do nothing to hurt me."
"What about the day I left?" You ask, the aftertaste is bitter on your mouth.
The thought of that day bring nightmares to his mind. The things he told you, the shit he provoked. They way he pushed you over the edge to the point of making you leave.
"I don't have a problem with the way you dress, I love your style. I don't have a problem with how much you love your friends, I love your way of acting, the way you love everyone, I don't have a problem with you being friends with Pablo, I love you and I love how my friends are your friends."
He take a deep breath, feeling like the air in his lungs is not enough. Feeling like the cold air is making breathing hard.
"And I'm sorry about the way I treated you, the way I was acting, I never meant to make you feel bad about my insecurities. I was the problem. I was the one who let someone else get into my head, I was the one who made the mistakes, and i was the one who made you feel like I didn't love you."
He gets closer to you, hands on your cheeks, drying the tears. Your hold his hands with yours. "But I love you, don't ever think that I don't." He whispers, kissing the top of your nose.
You nod, grabbing his face with your hands, caressing his cheeks. You pull him towards you, pressing your foreheads together.
"I love you too." You say after a while, pulling away from him. "But I have to love myself first. And I need to see that you changed."
Even when your words burn his heart, he understand. He wanted to prove himself to be what you needed, the person you can trust. He wanted to be all that to you again. Because you're all that to you.
"I'll do anything to prove to you that I changed. I'll wait as long as you need to, I want you to trust me again."
"I miss you." You hug him, arms locking behind his neck. His hands don't miss a minute to intertwine behind your back.
"I miss you more." He kisses you neck. "I promise I will prove you that I can be the person you deserve."
You enjoyed the warmth of his body against yours. You can't help but think of how he was right and your jacket was definitely not enough. You giggle a little.
"What's that?" He asks, smiling.
"You're right, it's too cold." You sniff, feeling the cold reach every part of you.
He separates and undo the zipper of his sweater, hands on each side opening the sweater for you to hug him and get more warm.
"Now that's better." You say, kissing his collarbone, making him smile against your hair.
🪷🪷🪷
"Last christmas I have you my ass, but the very next day you fuck my best friend, this year I'm fucking you dad and I'm also fucking your cousin."
You laugh at Fer singing Cardi's remix of the Christmas song. He was helping you with baking christmas cookies over FaceTime.
Pedro and you have made amazing progress, he was proving himself day by day.
"To think that a year ago today you guys were at the top of a cliff at the park solving your issues." He jokes, making Pedro give him the finger while laughing.
"Good thing your bother knows how to redeem himself." You second Fernando's joke.
"Joer, hablan de mi como si yo no existiera y estoy aquí parado, no me imagino cuando no los pueda escuchar." He laughs, making you smile and shake tou head at him. (You guys talk about me as if I'm not standing right here, I can't imagine what you say when I'm not present)
"only good things, mi amor." You kiss his cheek.
"Bueno, yo los dejo, I have to help mom with some things at la Tasca." (Well, I'm out) he waves you goodbye and cut the FaceTime.
Pedri has added to their story
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You two spend the rest of the day decorating and eating the cookies. Making Pedri break his diet, but he was okay with that.
"Oye, ven pa'qui." (Hey, come here) he calls you.
you walk over to him, he's sitting on the couch. A elf hat on his head. You can't help but smile at his cuteness.
"Yes sir?" You ask.
He possess his hands on your waist, pulling you towards him and making you fall on his lap. "Do you like how the house is looking."
"Very much, I love our home." You say, hugging him. "And I love you."
He smiles at you, looking around. He can't help but feel proud of himself. He proved you that he was worth a second chance. That he was your person and that he loved you more than anything.
He was happy you were happy with him. And that was something he knew he couldn't lose. Not you, not your love and not your future together.
"I love you more."
✨️✨️✨️
🏷: @gulphulp @jack1n @girlidekanymore @gadriezmannsgirl since you asked for part 2 🤭✨️
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vanwritesfan-fiction · 8 months
Text
It Could Be Worse
Warnings: Smut, mentions of injury, lots of nice fluff
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"Baby, where are the girls?" Travis peeked his head into your office. You looked up from your computer, a pen between your teeth. "They're with my parents today." You returned to your endless email inbox, sending a couple to the trash can. "Alex is sleeping at Jacob's house this weekend", you continued, knowing that was going to be your husband's next question.
Travis entered the room and limped over to the leather sectional at the far end of the room. He sat down with a groan, rubbing his knee cap. He was already injured before the season had started, a bone bruise, and he was set to be sidelined the first game of the season.
He was putting on a brave face for his family and his team, but you knew him too well, and it was obvious that it was tearing him up inside.
"How are you feeling, babe?", you asked, turning to him, knowing he was going to give you the same rehearsed answer that the public heard.
"It could be worse", you both uttered in unison, Travis chuckling to himself when he realized you knew exactly what he was going to say. "Ha, nothing gets passed you, huh?" He scratched at his beard, leaning back on the couch. You walked over, pulling your legs underneath yourself as you sat down next to him.
"I'm sorry baby. I wish there was something I could do." Your hands found the back of his head, your nails gently scratching at his scalp while you pressed a kiss onto his temple. You continued to trail your mouth down the side of his face, each kiss as gentle as the one before until your lips touched his, deepening the kiss, warmth pooling in your stomach.
Travis pulled you into his chest, his large hand on your waist, your lips only separating for short breaths before crashing together again. Lost in the moment, you swung your leg across his waist, settling in his lap. "Shit." He whimpered out in pain into your mouth as you pressed down onto his thighs.
"Oh my god, I'm so sorry, Travis." He tried to hold you in place as you got off his lap. He leaned back, his eyes closed tightly, trying to catch his breath as pain radiated through his leg. "No, its fine. I can keep going." He gritted out between his teeth.
"No, babe, this was a bad idea. I'll never forgive myself if I hurt you."
He grabbed your hand, pulling you back into his lap. "Hey, you didn't hurt me. I'm fine, I promise. I want this." You shivered as his hand slipped under your shirt, his fingers tickling your skin. Your lips parted as pressed his tongue into your mouth, digging his fingertips into your sides.
"Let me know if you want to stop", you whispered as you dropped to your knees between Travis' legs. He nodded, shifting in his seat as your mouth ghosted kisses over his clothed bulge. "Just do it, it's fine", he grunted out. You slowly pulled down his sweatpants and boxers, Travis biting into his fist as he lifted his hips to get them past his knees.
His erect cock rested against his toned stomach, precum leaking from the tip from the anticipation of your warm mouth on member. You licked the head clean, dragging your tongue from the base to the tip as you took his length in your hand. You started with slow strokes, grinning as Travis' stomach contracted with each movement.
"Fuck", the word suddenly left his mouth when you took the head of his cock between your supple, pink lips, swirling your tongue around the tip. He cupped your cheek in his hand as you looked up at him, slowly bobbing your head up and down, taking him down your throat as far as possible with each dip, never breaking eye contact. "So fuckin' pretty, baby", he moaned out, his hand gripping the back of your head.
You took him all the way down, your lips touching the base, before you came up for air, tears brimming in your lashes. Travis felt his muscles start tense, pressure building up at his pelvis as you quickened your strokes. Even though he felt a sharp pain coming from his knee cap, he was way past stopping any of your actions and he wouldn't dare ask you to stop.
"I'm gonna cum, baby." He bit down on his bottom lip, trying not to move as much as possible, his fingernails digging into the leather of his seat. You slowed your movements as he came down your throat, his hot ejaculation leaving a salty taste on your tongue. You felt his cock twitch against your tongue, Travis' chest heaving with each breath.
"So good, baby." You muttered, fussing over him, gently pressing your lips to his bruised knee. You pressed kisses on his thighs, gently stroking your hands up and down his calves as he came down from his orgasm. You offered a hand to help him stand up, carefully pulling up his sweatpants.
"I wanna take care of you, too. I'll make it work somehow." You felt Travis' hand on your lower back as you tried to walk away. "Uh, no, baby. I don't need the entire Chiefs organization hating me because you injured yourself further trying to eat your wife out." Travis chuckled, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "You have to admit, it'd make for a hell of a story."
You turned and looked up at him, grabbing his hand. His blue eyes were glazed over, his pupils blown, as he struggled to stand even with you there for support.
"Sit please, Trav." , you slowly lowered himself down on the couch again. "I need you to get better, and then you can take care of me all you want, ok?" You pulled his chin toward you for one more kiss, your noses grazing.
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