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#but specifically with a pocket for drugs
jvzebel-x · 10 months
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🦋
#so ive been in contact w a clinic for a specific treatment plan&ive been getting paperwork together for this shit for like 3wks+#&i just got a call about it-- a call ive been waiting for since last week-- only for them to tell me that#ill probably need to be hospitalized for the full extent of the treatment. lmao.#as if this in&of itself was not enough to send me full-on spiraling they let know that this will be totally out of pocket#(which i guess im more or less used to hearing at this point in my life lmao)#&also that i POPPED FOR AMPHETAMINES?#so i immediately start fucking freaking out&the person im talking to is trying to calm me down like#'its okay! youre not in trouble!'#&honest to god if i had been in person i wouldve smacked someone lmao.#i dont give a fuck what you fucking ppl think of me. ive been fighting for solid communication for this entire process#there isnt any reason i should feel inclined to respect any of you bitches enough to give a fuck about your opinion.#even if i didnt have my personal history or occupational hazard list IT WOULD BE CONCERNING TO FIND OUT I HAVE RANDOM DRUGS#IN MY SYSTEM THAT I WAS UNAWARE OF. &frankly that SHOULD be fucking obvious if i am panicking at all.#seeing as a did several different drug tests i dont see how any of it would come as a fucking surprise.#... then she realized that my blood test was negative&my piss test was 'presumptively positive'#&was like that bc of one of my other medications.#im not. THRILLED. that this was overlooked for a large variety of reasons lmao#but the fact that the med evals only last two weeks tops the list bc if i need to retest bc of this shit-- something that wont even#give them a different test result as i am still taking the same medication fucking daily as i have been for over a year now--#i will need to do EVERYTHING again. for no reason. DEFINITELY for no reason caused by me.#all so they can tell me that they lied to me initially&they wont treat me unless i let them hospitalize me lmao.#im going to go fucking rabid. i Do Not want to be hospitalized. lmao.
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serpentandlily · 15 days
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Lost in a Labyrinth - Azriel x Reader
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Lost in a Labyrinth I - Azriel x Reader
Summary: Lonely and heartbroken after his near kiss with Elain, Azriel finds himself at the door to the most exclusive pleasure house in Hewn City, The Labyrinth, taking Rhysand’s cruel advice. What he expected to find was a pretty girl to warm a bed with him for a single night. But instead he finds something he never thought existed—his mate. A mate that is tangled up in something far more sinister than he could ever imagine. 
Warnings: smut (minors dni), reader is a prostitute
─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
Part I
─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
“So you will leave Elain alone. If you need to fuck someone, go to a pleasure house and pay for it, but stay away from her.” 
Rhysand’s words had played over and over again in his head since the Winter Solstice, three months ago. Azriel wasn't sure why he was taking him up on his shitty advice now but by some will of his own, he was standing in the shadows of the alley across the street from The Labyrinth—Hewn City’s most exclusive brothel. 
Azriel only knew of this place because some of the high ranking nobles he spied on talked about it often. It was known for its secrecy, for making sure their clientele had confidentiality. There were far more pleasure houses that were known to the public, even one in Velaris, but the last thing Azriel wanted was word getting around that he had been seen visiting one. Partly because he liked keeping his love affairs secret, but mostly because he didn’t want to give that satisfaction to Rhysand. 
When his shadows came back with no reports of any sightings of faeries nearby, Azriel crossed the distance to The Labyrinth. He knocked five times on the plain looking, unassuming door, following the instructions he had overheard. 
A sliding peephole opened revealing a pair of dark eyes. “A bargain, Shadowsinger,” a male voice said through the door. “A copper for your eyes.”
“A silver for your tongue,” Azriel agreed. He felt a burning sensation behind his ear, the bargain tattoo forming. 
This was another thing he had learned from spying— the secret bargain that would grant you access to The Labyrinth. A bargain that he wouldn’t speak of the people and things he might see here so long as they kept their silence in regards to his identity. 
The door swung open a second later and the male guard ushered him in. The guard gave him a once over, his eyes stopping on the dagger sheathed on his thigh. 
“No weapons allowed, Shadowsinger,” the guard ordered. “Especially around the girls.”
Azriel wordlessly unsheathed Truth-teller and let his shadows take it away. He didn’t tell the guard that it was pointless, that he could summon it back at any time regardless of whatever wards they had set up around here—his shadows didn’t abide by the typical rules of magic. But the guard didn’t need to know that. 
The guard held out a gloved hand. “The entrance fee.”
Azriel reached into his pocket and pulled out a small pouch filled with coins. He set it in the guard’s palm without question. 
The guard gave him a dip of the head, satisfied, before gesturing for him to continue on. Azriel strided down the dim hallway. He could already smell various aphrodisiacs and drugs amongst the intoxicating scent of arousal in the air. It spurred him on, kept his feet moving on the dark red carpet, not allowing him the chance to second guess his decision to come here. 
He wasn’t sure what magic was at play, or if they specifically scented the hallway to further get their clients in the mood, but something was tugging him forward. 
He finally made it to the other end of the hallway, where a black door was awaiting him. He opened it slowly, cautiously and when no threat appeared, stepped through the threshold. The door opened up into a large foyer of sorts with a large candle chandelier hanging from the ceiling. 
Straight ahead was a grand staircase that led to the second floor. On both sides of the foyer were large double doors with masked guards standing in front of them, swords strapped to their backs.
Waiting for him in the center of the room was an older, High Fae female with generous curves, dressed decadently. A polite smile graced her pretty but aging face as she took him in. 
“Shadowsinger,” she greeted with a dip of the head, her hands clasped in front of her. “Welcome to The Labyrinth. My name is Lydia. I will be your point of contact during your time here. Please follow me, I will show you to the girls so you may make your selection.” 
This wasn’t the first time Azriel had visited a pleasure house. Gods, when they were younger, him, Rhysand and Cassian had gone to some together. Had even taken the same girl once. But this felt…different. The atmosphere was soft, sensual—not rowdy like the other brothels he had been to. 
He followed Lydia into the first set of double doors, which led down another long corridor with more doors lining the wall, all numbered. Until they reached the end where another set of double doors waited. As soon as Lydia pushed them open and gestured for him to continue, soft music crept through the air.
Azriel walked into a heavily perfumed room, dimly lit much like everywhere else in this place. Dark red, velvet settees and cushions lined the walls and floors. Silks hanging from the ceilings gave each space a bit of privacy. A bar was on the opposite wall, fully stocked with various alcohols. Males and females, alike, were milling about the room in various states of undress, some paired up on the couches and chairs. 
At the front of the room was a wall made entirely of glass that overlooked a courtyard. Hanging plants and flowered vines decorated the space. A large fountain bubbled in the middle of it. Girls in lingerie and silk robes sat on the stone benches and cushions on the floor, lingered near the fountain, danced to the soft music in corners of the courtyard—all giggling and chattering with each other.
“These are the girls in The Labyrinth,” Lydia explained. “If you would like to see our selection of males, let me know.” 
His eyes wandered over the girls, all so beautiful and unique. Every single type of fae was here—from nymphs to firelings to High Fae. But his gaze was drawn towards a lone figure in one of the second story alcoves. 
His breath was sucked from his lungs the minute his eyes fell on her. She was…she was so beautiful. The most beautiful female he had ever seen in his five hundred years of living. She was dressed in a light pink lingerie set, a sheer robe hanging over it with white fur trims. She was alone, resting an elbow on the stone railing with her chin plopped in her hand as she gazed out into the carved mountainside within Hewn City. 
He couldn’t rip his eyes away from her. 
“Are any of them suited to your tastes, Shadowsinger?” Lydia questioned from beside him, knocking him out of whatever spell he had been put under. 
“Her,” he answered, his voice a mere whisper, as he dipped his head towards the female he couldn’t help but stare at. 
Lydia murmured something to one of the masked servants walking around with trays of champagne flutes. A moment later, one returned and handed the female a slip of paper. She clicked her tongue at whatever she read. 
“Apologies, Shadowsinger,” she said, “But it looks like she’s already been chosen for tonight. Do any—”
“By who?” Azriel growled before he even realized, his shadows whirling around him. Lydia looked up at him with a stern look that accentuated all the fine lines on her face. 
“You know I can’t tell you that,” she chided. Azriel gave her a sheepish look, not knowing what had come over him. “It looks like any of the other girls are still up for the taking if you’d like to choose another?” 
But Azriel couldn’t stop staring at the girl in the pink. Couldn’t help but be mesmerized by her. None of the other girls caught his attention. He had come here looking for a quick, no strings attached, fuck but that desire, that need—it was like it had been sucked right out of him. 
“I…” he trailed off, suddenly reeling back into his body. Lydia was staring up at him expectedly but he took a step away. “N-no. I’m sorry. I should…I should go.” 
Not a second later, his shadows swirled around him, whisking him away. 
⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆
Azriel wasn’t sure what drew him back to The Labyrinth the next night. Or the night after. Each time he came, he asked for that girl in pink, and each time, he was told she had already been booked for the night. It would’ve been easy to accompany Mor to Rita’s and find a plethora of females that would fuck him for free. But none of them would’ve been her. 
He wasn’t even sure why he was becoming so obsessed with a girl he’d never even talked to. Obsessed enough to travel to Hewn City, pay the copious entrance fee, just to leave when he was told she was still not available. 
But here he was. 
Again. 
Standing at the doors to The Labyrinth. 
It had become such a reoccurrence that Lydia would merely shake her head no at the sight of him, already knowing what he was there for. He was sure tonight would go more or less the same. But he was surprised when he caught sight of Lydia standing in the large, intricate foyer and she shook her head yes. 
“Well, Shadowsinger,” she said, “I admire your persistence. It seems it is your lucky day. The girl you’ve been waiting for is available. Please, continue on up the stairs and into The Labyrinth. She will be waiting for you behind the ninth door.” 
Azriel gave her a dip of the head before striding past her to the staircase. His shadows were swarming him—excited about something. He tuned them out, pushing open the black doors waiting for him at the top of the stairs. 
He paused for a second, feeling like he had suddenly been transported somewhere else. Instead of one long hallway like he’d been expecting, the doors opened to a maze of large pillars, multiple pathways lit by candles placed on the floor. 
He sent his shadows forward to scout the place and locate the ninth door that Lydia had mentioned. He followed their trail which led him to a red door with a number nine painted on it in a darker shade of red that looked suspiciously like blood. 
He let out the breath he had been holding as he wrapped his scarred fingers around the doorknob and slowly pushed it open. 
Slow, sultry music met his ears and the scent of pomegranates and cardamom flooded his senses. It was intoxicating, beckoning him forward. He softly shut the door behind him before he completely paused in his tracks as he turned to face the room. 
There, standing with her back to him, was the girl who had been utterly consuming his mind since he had first laid eyes on her. She was wearing a light pink nightgown that laced down her lower back. She was bent forward slightly, lighting a candle on a coffee table set up in front of a pair of red velvet couches. 
His eyes trailed over the room for a second, trying to gather his bearings. It was a large room, large enough to have a sitting area separate from the four-poster bed covered in silk and textured fabrics. Everything fit the same color scheme as the other rooms he’d been in, red and black. Lit only by candles, the soft lighting only added to the sultry atmosphere. 
Some smoke lingered in the air, making everything a bit more hazy. He recognized the scent as a popular aphrodisiac often used during parties with high nobility. His shadows seemed lulled by the music, drifting around him lazily as he stood in place. 
He stood frozen as she finally turned around and met his gaze. He had thought her beautiful that day he had seen her up on the balcony, but this close, well… beautiful was not strong enough of a word. She looked crafted for the Gods, a being not meant to walk alongside man. His breath was sucked right out of his lungs again, his eyes widened as his shadows reacted by lowering themselves onto the ground, leaving him bare. 
“There you are,” she purred, her voice as smooth as silk and honey. “I’ve heard you’ve been waiting for me.”
Azriel swallowed harshly, his throat bobbing with the motion. He watched her eyes track it, watched how her smirk slipped into a soft smile instead. He opened his mouth to speak, to say anything, but it was like no thoughts existed in his head except for an image of her. 
“A bit shy, are you?” She teased after he failed to speak, walking towards him and holding out a hand with well manicured nails. “That’s okay, my love, let me take care of you.” 
She grasped his hand in her much smaller one, not even flinching when her skin met contact with his brutal scars. He let her guide him to the couch and push him to sit, entranced by her very presence. She moved to the bar cart behind him, running a delicate hand over his shoulders as she did, before pouring two glasses of whiskey. 
She meandered back over to him, plopping on the couch next to him before handing him one of the glasses. She clinked her glass against his. “For the nerves, my love.”
Azriel wanted to tell her that he wasn’t nervous, but that would be a lie. He had no idea why he had been reduced to the shy teenage boy he had been in his youth but he couldn’t shake himself from the feeling. Her presence was overwhelming, intimidating. Like she somehow held his entire being in the palm of her hands. 
“Thank you,” he grunted out, his voice rough. He cleared his throat before downing his glass of whiskey in one go. She followed his lead, her smoky eyes never leaving his as she swallowed her whiskey. Beneath the exaggerated desire he found in them was a more calculating look, like she was trying to figure him out. 
A bit of the whiskey slipped out of the side of her mouth, dripping down her chin and neck to the crevice between her breasts. Azriel’s gaze followed it, his cock tightening in his pants as he wished to lick it off her gleaming skin. 
“Oops,” she giggled, swiping it up with a finger and sucking it into her mouth. “Would you like another glass?” 
He shook his head. He didn’t want to be drunk for this. He wanted to savor every second of his time with her, the girl who had been plaguing his thoughts night and day. 
“You seem tense, Shadowsinger,” she purred with a pout, making his eyes dip to her full, red painted lips. “I can fix that.” 
She reached forward and ran a slender hand up his chest and he nearly moaned at the feeling of her touching him. His hand latched onto hers, stopping it in its tracks. 
“What’s your name?” Azriel asked, finally speaking. He needed to know. Needed to taste the way it felt to say it on his tongue as much as he needed to taste her. 
“Serenity,” she replied with a coy smile. “But you can call me anything you like, my love.” 
His eyes searched hers. “That’s not your real name, is it?” 
“Of course not, darling,” she giggled. She leaned towards him, close enough that her breath fluttered over his ear. His cock twitched in his pants, his skin heated. “I think the real question is, what would you like me to call you, Shadowsinger?”
“Azriel,” he breathed out. “Just…just Azriel.” 
“Azriel,” she repeated in that voice of silk and honey. 
His eyes darted down to her lips again. He couldn’t help it, couldn’t help how turned on he felt. Was it the aphrodisiacs in the room? Or perhaps the whiskey had hit just right? He didn’t care. All he knew was he needed to have her. 
Azriel let go of her hand, letting her continue her travel up his chest until she grabbed the empty glass in his hand and set it down on the table in front of them. She made eye contact with him again, slowly moving to straddle him on the couch, wrapping her arms around his neck lightly. He bit back a groan as her weight fell on his hardening member.
“What is it you’re here for, Azriel?”
His brain couldn’t focus with her in his lap. Her eyes were so mesmerizing, her scent one he could get high off. His hands found her waist, the silk fabric of her nightgown so smooth against his rough skin. 
“You,” he whispered, honestly. Because that was the truth. He had seen her and knew he needed to have her. 
“I’m yours, Azriel,” she giggled. “Any way you want me.” 
If he were a better male, perhaps now would be the time he realized this might be a mistake. But he wasn’t a better male. He couldn’t be. Not when her body was pressed against his, not when she looked so beautiful staring up at him with her large, expressive eyes, and certainly not when his body was singing for her—hungering for her like she was the only sustenance he needed. 
So Azriel surged forward and kissed her. 
Lightning exploded, skittering over his skin, the moment his lips touched hers. He groaned at the feeling of their softness. She let out a small sigh as she kissed him back, melting in his lap, pressing herself closer to him. 
Azriel slid a hand up her exposed back until he grasped her by the back of the neck and tilted her head so he could deepen the kiss, finally taking control of the situation. His cock hardened painfully as she spread her legs further, allowing her heat to rub against him. 
He kissed her like a starved male, licking along her bottom lip, compelling her to part her lips for him. She let him consume her, let him slip his tongue into her mouth and taste her fully. 
So sweet. 
So divine. 
Azriel broke the kiss, letting her gasp for air. The scent of her arousal had his eyes rolling back in his head. Still holding her by the back of the neck, he twisted her head to the side and pressed his lips just below her ear before trailing down her jaw and to her delicate neck. 
She moaned, squirming in his lap and rubbing against his hard length, only spurring him on more. His other hand started working on unlacing her nightgown. His fingers fumbled over the ribbon, until finally, it came undone and fell, pooling at her waist. 
Azriel pulled back to look at her, now bare before him from the waist up. Her chest was rising and falling rapidly with her breathing, her eyes dilated and full of lust, her lips swollen. The perfect image of desire. 
“So beautiful,” he growled, before leaning forward and latching his mouth around her right nipple. She gasped, arching into his mouth as her hands fisted his hair. 
“Azriel,” she whimpered, pushing her hips down against his bulge. He growled again, thrusting his hips up to meet hers. 
His lips made a path back up to hers, taking her breasts in his palms as he kissed her deeply. She grinded down on his cock again, pulling a whine from the back of his throat that had her smiling against his lips. 
He wanted to take his time with her, wanting to draw this out as long as he could. But he knew he wouldn’t last. Not when the need to be in her was causing him to strain against his pants to the point of pain. 
Azriel stood, lifting her up with him with an arm under her ass and the other wrapped around her. He let his shadows swarm them, stepping out right in front of the bed. She was breathless as he dropped her onto the soft pillows and sheets, her hair fanning around her head like a halo. 
An Angel. 
That’s what she was. 
A godsdamn Angel. 
He couldn’t keep his hands off of her, running them down her body as he pulled her nightgown all the way off, leaving her entirely bare before her. She moved to sit up, reaching for the buttons of his shirt but he lightly grasped her throat in his hand and pushed her back down.
“How do you want me, Azriel?” She hummed, seductively, wrapping her hands around his wrist.
Azriel leaned down, running his nose along the column of her throat until his mouth was beside her ear. 
“First, I want you coming on my fingers,” he commanded, his voice husky with desire. “Then my tongue. And then my cock. Do you understand?”
She swallowed audibly, nodding her head. 
“Words, angel,” he smirked. “Use your words.” 
“Yes, Azriel, I understand,” she whimpered, the scent of her arousal peaking. 
He inhaled deeply before pulling away and dropping to his knees before her. She sat up on her elbows, letting out a small cry as he hooked his arms around her thighs and yanked her towards the end of the bed. 
Her sex was glistening with her want and Azriel groaned at the sight, unlacing his pants with one hand to relieve some pressure. He watched her as he dipped forward and ran his tongue up her slit, his eyes rolling back at the sweet taste of her. 
She tossed her head back with a moan, spreading her legs wider for him. Azriel didn’t waste any time. He sucked and licked at her clit with a hunger he’d never felt before, his cock twitching every time he drew out a moan or cry from her lips. 
True to his word, his finger swirled around her entrance, causing her hips to thrust closer and closer. He continued his ministrations as he slid a single finger inside of her, cursing as he felt how tight she was wrapped around him. 
“Azriel,” she cried out as he added a second finger before slowly thrusting in and out of her. “Fuck.” 
He continued to suck that spot that had her crying out, pure waves of euphoria crashing through her body. His fingers began to thrust inside of her faster and faster as her moans became more frequent.
“That’s it, angel,” he praised as she rutted against his fingers. “Fuck yourself with my fingers.” 
She whimpered, her movements frenzied as he latched his mouth back on her clit, sucking in rhythm with his fingers. One of her hands gripped his hair while the other fisted the sheets and she squirmed in pleasure until he pushed her over the edge. 
“Az…Azriel,” she cried, arching her back as flames licked their way through her body. “I’m gonna—”
Azriel didn’t stop, palming himself with his free hand as she orgasmed, pulsating around his fingers with a loud moan. He slipped his fingers out and replaced them with his tongue just in time to feel the aftershock ripple through her. 
She tried to pull his head away, but he didn’t relent. He needed her on his tongue, needed to fulfill the hunger inside of him. It wasn’t long before he had her screaming through her second orgasm, lapping at the wetness pooling between her thighs. Azriel didn’t let up as he rode out her orgasm with his tongue, not until her body was writhing in pleasure and she was begging him to stop. 
He stood, sticking one of the fingers covered in her juices into his mouth, eyes rolling back in his head as he groaned. “Gods, you taste so good.” 
He left her panting on the bed as he made quick work of ripping his clothes off. His eyes were black with lust, his shadows spilling all around him in his craze. Gods, he needed her so bad. Every piece of her. 
He climbed onto the bed, hovering over her and crashing his lips against hers. His tongue was still claiming her mouth as her hands roamed the muscles of his chest, sliding down to his cock. He groaned into her mouth as she ran her hand up and down his shaft. 
“Please,” she begged. 
“Please what, angel?” He nipped at her bottom lip. “What is it you want?” 
“Please fuck me, Azriel,” she whined. 
The noise that came out of his throat at her words was one he’d never made before. He sat back on his haunches, replacing her hand with his as he guided himself towards her entrance, rubbing up and down against the wetness that was waiting for him. 
Her eyes rolled to the back of her head as he slid himself inside of her slowly. She moaned as Azriel let out an animalistic growl at the feeling of her wrapped around him. It wasn’t until he was all the way in her when they both finally released a breath.
“Fuck,” he grunted, falling forward and peppering kisses along her throat. “You feel so good.”
She whimpered at his praise and felt him smirk against her neck before he started to finally move, pulling himself all the way out her before thrusting back in, faster this time. She cried out as he slammed into her.
Azriel set a punishing pace, thrusting into her again and again. His shadows seeped from him until nearly every crevice of the room was taken over by his darkness. 
Her nails raked down his back, between his wings as she let him take her. He claimed her mouth again, passionately swallowing each moan he pulled from her. Her hips began to meet his with each thrust, pushing him deeper and deeper inside of her. 
“Gods, Azriel,” she cried, squeezing around him as he hit that sweet spot inside her. 
“Are you going to come on my cock, angel?” he cooed. 
“Yes,” she mewled. “Yes, gods, yes.” 
“Good girl,” he growled, nipping at her throat with his canines. 
His words pushed her over the edge into the hot bliss of pleasure. She screamed his name as the lightning shot through her, her core pulsating with each strike.
“Fuck,” Azriel groaned. He rode out her orgasm and then his thrusts became harder, faster but sloppy with no rhythm as his own release slid up on him.
His tongue swirled around the base of her neck before an utterly feral growl ripped through him. And then he bit down on that spot. His canines ripped through the skin, sinking down into her flesh as he came, thrusting once, twice and one final time—burying himself in her. 
They both panted in silence for a moment, coming down from their highs before Azriel slowly slipped out of her with a small whimper. He pulled away from her and she smiled up at him, her eyes glazed with pleasure and satisfaction. 
And then something happened. Something he never thought would. Something he had only dreamed about but never wished for because he had thought it a waste of breath. 
A golden string of light unwound itself and shot across the darkness, all the way to the beautiful girl before him. 
The mating bond snapped. 
His mating bond.
Azriel let out a choked noise, rising fully. He stumbled back in shock, his eyes wide as he stared down at her. Her brows furrowed in confusion and she sat up. 
Fuck, his mate…
She was his mate.
His godsdamn mate. 
This couldn’t be happening. Not like this. Not after he had just paid her to have sex with him. Not after he had come here for a shameless fuck. She’d never want him now. Why would she? 
He hastily began picking up his discarded clothes and dressing himself. She did the same in her confusion, slipping her nightgown back on as she frowned at him. 
“What happened?” Her voice was meek as she hugged an arm around herself, looking at him. “Have I…have I done something wrong?”
“N-no,” he stuttered, not looking her in the eyes. Gods, she would hate him if he told her now. She would not want anything to do with him. “No, I’m sorry. I-I need to go.” 
“But you paid for the whole night,” she said, perplexed with a hint of insecurity. “Please, if I wasn’t good…if you didn’t enjoy it…I can do better, I swear it.” 
He finally looked at her, at his mate. His heart sank in his chest at her words. Fuck, he was making this worse. He couldn’t stand the sight of her looking at him like she’d done something wrong. She was perfect. She had been perfect. It was him who fucked up.
“No, no, don’t. It’s not you," Azriel tried to reassure her. “I…it’s me. I need to go. I’m so sorry.” 
“At least let me get you your money back,” she said, rubbing her arm. He felt sick to his stomach.
“No! No, please keep it,” he murmured, buttoning up his shirt as fast as he could. “I’m…I’m so sorry. This was a mistake.”
And then he disappeared in his shadows, her confused and hurt face the last thing he saw. 
─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
a/n: so obvious this was entirely from Az's perspective but it will be reader y/n just in case it wasn't super obvious! Hope you guys enjoyed it! If you asked to be tagged but don't see your username, it wouldn't let me tag you for some reason :((
(also, now that the whole chapters out, if this isn't what you thought you were signing up for, no hard feelings if you asked to be removed from the taglist)
taglist: @itsswritten @impossibelle @lilah-asteria @heartless-tate @sheblogs @jesskidding3 @landofpetrichor @thecollegecowgirl @5onedirection5 @cherry-cin @fayeatheart @brieflyclassymortal @saltedcoffeescotch @glitterypirateduck @eyebagsanonymous @chxosangxl @daardyrnitta
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sincerelyneo · 26 days
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will you be reposting the jeno fic you had on your old blog? it was my fave 🥺
here it is <3
fireproof | l.jn
“‘cause no body saves me baby the way you do”
💿now playing: fireproof by one direction
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❯ summary: Your brother Jaemin loves throwing parties when your parents aren’t home — but you hate it. In an attempt to escape the loud music and sweaty bodies you try and head out. But there’s no way your brother’s best friend, Jeno, is letting you wander around the streets so late.
❯ pairings: jeno x fem!reader
❯ genre: smut, brother’s best friend, college!au
❯ words: 8.4k
❯ tags: 18+ minors dni!, smut, masturbation, minor mentions of drug use, drinking, marking, slight protective brother jaemin, begging, spanking, mentions of marking, unprotected sex (don't do this!), oral sex (m/f receiving), fingering, reader uses she/her pronouns, jeno fucks his best friend’s little sister.
a/n: i changed the title hehehe
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This party fucking sucks.
You’re not even drunk. The vodka is watered down, you're sure of it. Your friends ditched you about half an hour ago — disappearing with some of the guys they had been speaking to and seeing. 
"Come to the party with us, they said." You mimic to yourself into your plastic cup. "It'll be fun, they said." 
You scoff taking another swig but pull your face at the awful taste that lingers in your mouth. There are better things you could be doing on a Saturday night, you think. You’re almost positive you saw a new show released on Netflix today. Or better yet, you could be reading some sort of erotic novel that would spice up your Saturday night more than this shit.
But the thing is, this party is at your own fucking house.
Your brother is throwing it. 
Every time your parents go away for one weekend he can’t help but jump at the opportunity to trash the place. You don't see why he can't just have a few of the boys around, have some beers and then call it a night. But no, that isn't exactly Jaemin’s style. 
Of course, he has to invite a bunch of random weirdos that seem to be snorting cocaine off of every surface in this house, and smoking whatever kind of weed they could find. And sure, you’re not impartial to a good night but this... this is not your idea of a good night.
At all.
Sighing, you push through the masses of people, seeing the sweaty bodies that are dry humping one another or eating each other's faces off so much you feel like you’re going to throw up at the sight. 
Stopping in your tracks, you reach into the back pocket of your denim jeans to pull out your phone, seeing that it is half-past midnight. If you know Jaemin — and you did — this was only the beginning of the night. The party is definitely far from over.
Fuck sake.
You put your phone back in your pocket and continue to manoeuvre around the bodies in the hallway. Your stomach growls and you think about how you're drinking on an empty stomach. The only thing open at this time is a Mcdonald's but you don't necessarily want to be that person that sits in McDonald's by themselves on a Saturday night. 
Still, you head for your front door and try your luck at an escape. As you reach your hand out to grab the door handle you smash headfirst into a body. Well to be more specific a chest. A hard chest.
"Ow, fuck!" You lift your hand up, rubbing your forehead.
"Sorry little Na, didn't see you there." You immediately recognise that voice. The deep slowness in which he talks. It’s the only voice that has a straight hotline to your core. 
Yeah, you couldn't ever forget that voice.
You stop rubbing your head and slowly look up, following the lines of his muscled chest that you can see through the tight white t-shirt he's wearing with a pair of denim jeans and converse. Yes you had already checked him out tonight, but you’re only human. And when your eyes meet that sharp jawline, hollowed-out cheekbones and those damming brown eyes, you involuntarily clench your thighs together.
You shun yourself because you know you can’t have him. And that’s the reason why you hate him. 
He's your brother’s best friend.
Lee fucking Jeno.
The worst man on this planet. for many reasons like for one he’s insanely hot. Like too hot. Who on this planet even needs to be that hot? But to make it worse he knows he's hot. Girls are always flying off his arm fueling his ego. He's also selfish and arrogant. 
But the reason you hate him the most, the reason you despise him so much, and avoid him at all costs is because of the burning need — it's past being a want it's a fucking need — to just devour him. Every part of you screams out whenever he is in the same room. 
And you hate it.
You have zero control over your words and actions with him — and he knows it with how much you’ve embarrassed yourself in front of him over the years. Your cheeks tend to grow red without your permission, and oh does he love to point that out.
Ever since your brother brought him home in his first year of high school, they have been inseparable — and you’ve been madly in love.
Well, you’re not in love with the boy. You just, you know, want to rip his clothes off. And let him fuck the living daylights out of you.
"Aw, there they are." He distracts you from your thoughts. 
His eyes are burning straight through you. As if he can tell what you’re thinking, how you’re feeling. And right now, you have very infuriating dampness in your panties that wasn't there 30 seconds ago. 
"Those rosy cheeks, are they for me, little Na?" You swat his hand away as it attempts to reach up to caress your cheek or some stupid shit like that.
"Stop that Jeno!” You snap at him, getting angry is your default with him.
It the perfect remedy to keep him away from you, so you don't do something stupid like fuck your brother’s best friend
“Please just get out my way.” 
"Such a pleasant girl, aren't you?" He winks. 
He fucking winks, and your pussy screams in delight. If you were any other girl, you’d be swooning right now. You’d be on your knees begging for it. 
Well, you won't be on your  knees for him.
Ever.
Especially not tonight.
"Just get out of my way, Jeno,” you push him rather hard. 
You knew it wouldn't make him budge if he didn't want it too but he dramatically moved out of your way of the door. You yank it open and dart through onto the front lawn. Halfway down the driveway, a sharp tug on your arm spins you around and you’re  faced with Jeno... again.
"Fuck sake, what do you want?" You shake your arm out of his grip but he doesn't let go. 
You give up, huffing and dropping your shoulders. The two of you are just staring at each other, so much so that you didn't even realise how close you really were. Your chests are almost touching, there is a hair width between you. And due to your height, if you looked forwards you’d be looking at the bottom of his neck, right where you see him gulp before meeting your eyes again. They seem to burn into yours, suddenly growing intense. 
He is the first to look away but he doesn't just look away, no. You watch as his eyes flash down to your lips. Your breath hitches, he sees that and when he looks back to your eyes again, he flashes you a knowing smirk.
Motherfucker. 
"Come back inside." He says as he throws his head to the side, signalling to your house.
"No," you all but stomp your foot.
"You're such a fucking brat, you know that right?" He growls, closing that gap so that your chests touch. There’s an electricity running through you, begging for him. 
"I'm not a fucking brat, I just don't want to be here at this shitty party!” 
You don't break his eye contact, chests still touching. He can sure as hell feel each heavy breath you take and probably every beat of your heart that seems to have sped up since he moved closer.
"Just go inside, go to your room, anything. Just don't fucking leave, your brother would have my balls if I let you go out alone this late at night.” 
You roll your eyes at the mention of your brother. You love him, you really do, but hearing the word brother leaves Jeno’s lips reminds you exactly why he’s even here.
It’s not for you — it’s for Jaemin’s sake. 
"I don't see why either of you care, you've got plenty of booze and girls to keep you occupied to not even notice me gone,” you stand your ground, trying to tug your arm once again but he still won't let go.
However, he has loosened his grip so it isn't so harsh, but it's still locked around your wrist. In fact, you’re sure you feel him drawing little circles on the inner skin with his thumb and that thought alone has you squirming no matter how much you try to ignore it. 
"I think I'd always notice when you're not there," Jeno says under his breath, his face lowering to yours. 
If you didn't know better then you’d think he was about to kiss you. But that can't happen. Can it? 
Everything but your core is saying no. Your whole body is screaming to open up your mouth and say please. But you ignore it — you always do— and try to keep a brave face. But as he gets so close, too close, your eyes automatically flutter shut.
You expect his lips to graze yours but they don't, instead, you feel his cheek against you , only faintly, as his lips skim your ear lobe.
"I think I'd always notice when you're not there because there won't be some childish little brat moaning about not getting her own way." 
Your eyes shoot open as he pulls back, laughing at your flushing cheeks. Your eyes narrow as you finally tug your arm hard enough this time that he has no choice but to release you. 
"I do not moan about not getting my own way and I am not childish nor a brat,” you sneer at him. 
"Sure,-" he huffs, laughing, crossing his arms over his chest. "Whatever you say." 
"Why can’t you just go inside and leave me alone,” you cross your own arms over your chest. 
"No can do." He stands there like some sort of bouncer, you look to your right and see the path only a few steps away. He watches you and says a low, demanding, "Don't." 
But you do it. 
You spin on your heel and run for it. But you only make it two steps before two large arms are wrapped around your waist from behind and you’re being sprung back into a hard chest. Jeno’s one arm sits tightly around your waist, his fingers digging into your hip and you squirm against him. To stop your wriggling, his other hand flies up to grab a hold of your throat, tilting your head back to the rest of his shoulder. 
His eyes flash to his hand around your neck and he takes a deep breath that causes his eyes to flutter shut. Then you feel something growing behind you causing your own eyes to grow wide. He leans forward, lips skimming yours barely. 
“I said don't." It sounded more like a growl than anything and a small whimper escaped your lips. "Are you going to walk inside or am I going to have to carry you?" He whispers still close to your mouth. If you lifted your head slightly, you’d be kissing.
"I'm not going back inside." You sternly reply, he just laughs and his hold loosens on you. 
But he doesn’t free you. Instead he throws you clean over his shoulder in a fireman's lift. 
“Put. Me. Down. Jeno." You scream, hitting his back, but he doesn't listen. Carrying on heading back inside your house. 
Your cheeks are bright red and you stop your attack on Jeno’s back and decide to clench his shirt in your fists and hide your face in it.
"What's going on here?" You hear Jaemin’s voice and your head flies up.
"Your sister tried to escape," Jeno says laughing, bending down to lower you to the ground. 
When he stood back up, you were so close your bodies touched again, your breasts rubbed against his firm chest and your nipples stiffened. His eyes glanced down to them and they darken, then he looks to you again and grabs your shoulders, spinning you around to face your brother. You automatically lifted your arms up and over your breasts to cover the obvious arousal.
"Come on Y/N, you know you can't be walking around aimlessly at night." Jaemin chastises you.
"I'm not a child Jaem," you roll your eyes with a shake of your head.
"So what? Grown ass people still get kidnapped!” 
You groan, I'm going to my room." 
You push past him and head towards the stairs. You turn around seeing Jeno’s smug face knowing he’s got his own way about you coming back inside.
But you won’t give him the satisfaction. You’ll  just sneak out the window and have your perfect escape. He won't know. 
Not like he’ll come to check — right?
You spin on your heel as you hear the sound of footsteps following behind you. Jeno’s there, eyes locked on your ass until he sees you looking back down at him and then cocks his head to the side and smiles innocently. 
“What are you doing?” You spit. 
"Just making sure you actually do go to your room." He flashes his infamous eye smile that has plagued your dreams since you first met him. "And that your windows are locked. Don't want you running away now do we?" he winks at you.
He’s so irritating!
With a huff, you turn around and storm your way up the last couple of stairs, making sure your stomps are extra loud. You can just hear Jeno snickering behind you and that only rattles you even more. When you reach the landing you turn immediately and head to the last door of the hallway and pull it open, stepping inside of your bedroom. You go to slam the door shut but a sneaker covered foot stops in between preventing it.
You immediately roll your eyes and groan. 
"Leave me alone Jeno." You groan, leaning up against the door with your back, pushing it.
"Let me check your windows then I'll leave."
"What kind of request is that?” You sigh, running a hand through your hair. 
"Just let me."
"No."
The two of you enter a stare off — one you both know he’s going to win. And he does, because you don’t even let two whole minutes pass before you’re huffing out a “Fine.” 
He makes his way over to your window, making sure it's locked, then he chuckles, drawing your curtains too. The only thing lightening the room was your bedside lamp that you had an awful habit of leaving on. That, and it was the perfect deterrent to make it look like someone was in there, keeping strangers from having sex on your bed.
“All done?” You ask, breathy. 
He smirks, his eyes flashing to your lips again and you swear to god if he does that one more time you’re either going to kick him in the balls or jump on him and kiss him. 
You force yourself to take a step back and take a deep breath which makes him laugh.
"Well goodnight little Na, don't go sneaking out because I will know about it." He walks off to the door and before he exits you say,
"And how would you possibly know that?"
He looks over his shoulder, his eyes flash up and down your body, "I just will,” he winks then closes the door behind him.
You huff out and stomp your foot like a child. God you needed to grow a backbone and stop letting that idiot mess with you. 
Storming into your bathroom you slam the door shut. You strip off your clothes and turn on the shower. Whilst waiting for it to get up to temperature, you sigh. 
"Let me just lock your windows for ya." You pull a face copying him. "Want me to check that for ya?"
Once you’re done in the shower you climb out of it and dry yourself with a towel. 
"He's so fucking annoying ugh," you say to yourself as you pull the bathroom door open and saunter into your bedroom naked. 
You don't even check to see if anyone was in there, too busy ranting about him. And when you feel the cold draft of your bedroom it makes you realise you had just walked into your unlocked bedroom naked. Immediately, you covered your body remembering the party going on downstairs; but on first glance, it appeared no one was in there. Still you quickly grab your oversized grey t-shirt from the end of your bed, throwing it on over your head, but skipping your underwear. 
Your room was fairly simple with white furniture, a wooden floor, soft pink bedding, a few cuddly toys. The bed lies against the far wall, opposite the door and you leave your lamp on to have a little bit of light to help you sleep. 
Trying to fall asleep you flip over so your back faces the light. You try a few different sleep scenarios but everything keeps going back to Jeno.
And the way his hand gripped around your neck. 
You flip over again, keeping your eyes shut, yet, Jeno just waltzes into your mind continuously. Like he won't leave you alone. You feel so much anger coursing through your blood, yet you have this strange pulling into your core. 
You need to give attention to it — so you do. And as soon as you slip your hand under the covers, the fantasies start rolling in. Jeno’s arms around you, grabbing at your waist, your hips, your ass, your breasts.
Your breath hitches.
His tongue in your mouth, along your skin, tracing your neck and stomach, then between your folds lapping at you. Your eyes shoot open as you clench your thighs together and immediately feel the wetness.
It was just too much to ignore. This wasn’t going away. You already knew that. 
You just needed some relief and then you’ll be free for the night. Jeno never needs to know and it’s not like you haven’t done this exact same thing before over him. 
Your right hand finds your centre first, sliding between the folds and instantly feeling the slick wetness there. Slowly and sensually, you begin moving your fingers in a circular motion. Eyes closing instantly, flashes of Jeno now being played before you.
In your mind, it was no longer your hand but his. Rubbing your clit, sending shivers down your spine and causing a small panting moan to escape you. 
Your left hand begins clutching at the sheets and as you feel your nipples peak and rub against the soft material of your shirt, you have no choice but to swiftly move your hand up and under to take hold of your own breasts and squeeze. You moan again as you begin to work your fingers faster over your clit.
Now in your head, Jeno stood before you shirtless. Seeing the ripples in the muscles of his abs, he flexes his arms, making you grow weaker. But you always felt like this whenever you saw him shirtless at the pool, or the beach. 
And you couldn't deny how fucking sexy he was — you wouldn’t?”
"What’re you thinking about?" 
You pause instantly, back arched, orgasm growing close and eyes squeezed shut. You can't decipher whether that voice was in your head or in real life so you just grow still and relax, trying to pretend it didn’t happen. 
Your breathing which was already heavy, grows even more so, this time with panic and worry. You don't want to open your eyes, scared of what you might see because you recognised that voice.
At least, you’re really fucking hoping Jeno’s voice is all in your head, because you’re seconds away from orgasm.
"I asked you a question." 
Your eyes fly open. He’s definitely not in your head. 
Ripping your hand away from your clit, you pull the other away from your nipple and force yourself into a seated position with your hands splayed behind to hold you up. You scream on instinct, he doesn't so much as flinch as he stands at the end of your bed. 
His eyes are dark, head low and looking up at you through his lashes. He has that smirk on his face, and his hands are fidgeting, rolling his fingers against his palm. Your eyes roam his body as your scream continues and you wish you hadn't, only because your scream turned into a moan as you spied his hard erection pushing against his jeans.
You gasp and look back at his face. 
"What're you doing Jeno?" You whisper-shout, even though the party downstairs would make it difficult for anyone to hear you anyway. 
Still, you didn’t want any party goers walking in on a flustered you in bed with Jeno and his very large, very prominent erection, standing at the base. 
Fuck. It's so big. You can tell from how it's breaking at the seams of his jeans to be let free. Your mouth waters at the sheer thought of his dick — wondering what it looks like, how it feels in your hands, in your mouth — how it tastes. 
Fuck no. Absolutely not. 
You shake your head, trying to rid the thoughts and ignore the fact your core is pulsing right now, begging for one last touch so you can explode into orgasm. You really fucking needed it.
"I asked you what you were thinking about?" He says lowly, and it causes your breathing to still.
“H-how long have you been standing there?" You whimper. 
He shrugs, “That doesn't matter, what does matter is-" he moves his head up, looking you dead in the eyes as he cracks his neck and then his fists in each hand. "-What you were thinking about whilst touching yourself? Was it me?" 
He smirks again and you stood up, throwing the duvet off of your legs. 
"Not a chance," He says sternly. You look at him again, face paling. 
"What do you mean, no?" you ask, cocking your head.
"I mean don't you fucking move-" His tongue came out to lap at his bottom lip as his eyes moved down your body, down your legs. 
You instantly went to grab the duvet again but he grabbed it first, ripping it from the bed and throwing it across the room. You get down on all fours, crawling to try and get it before him. 
"Jeno!" You exclaim, reaching your hand out for it but it was too far away. You look up at him on all fours, and from this angle... God. You gulp. 
"Give me my cover."
You try to wash away every fantasy of being in this position before him but you can't ignore the way you need his hard cock, seeping at the tip and begging for you to lick it, to suck it. 
Stop. No. Not now.
His hand comes to the side of your face, pushing a piece of your hair behind your ear and you shiver at the touch. 
"Lie. Back. On. The. Bed." He commands.
Your eyes flutter shut for a moment and then slowly, you move to follow his command until you are back down on the bed. You keep your legs closed and hands on your stomach. 
You weren’t sure why you’re listening to him — obeying him . But something in you, some instinct is just screaming at you to let this play out, see what he wants.
"Touch yourself." He says and you blanch, your eyes growing wide and you sit up again, but one stern look from him has you lying back down again. "Touch yourself and tell me what you think of, how you feel, tell me everything Y/N."
Your name. He never bothers to call you that. Usually emphasising how you’re his best friend’s little sister with the nickname he’d given you. But honestly, you’re thankful for the nickname because hearing your actual name from his lips, all nasally and sensual, sends you spiralling. 
It makes you putty in his hands. And as for your hands? Well, they slowly spread your legs wide revealing your soaking wet cunt to him. You keep your eyes pierced on him, watching how his breath hitches, eyes glued to you. The way he automatically grabs his cock through his jeans and squeezes is like a reflex. Closing his eyes only briefly before they're back on you, on your core. 
You feel yourself growing red, the heat of embarrassment consuming you whole as you slide your hand down your stomach. As soon as your fingers make contact with your clit, your hips are bucking off of the bed and your back starts to curve. Building up your arousal doesn't take long. You were already half there, teetering on the edge. 
Except this time your eyes lock onto Jeno’s for real whilst your fingers are moving, soft moans leaving your lips. You spy his own hand on his cock, he hasn't pulled it free but he moves his hand back and forth over his shaft. You can see the way his arms tense as he moves and watches you.
You throw your head back with another moan. Seeing him stood there isn't enough, you need something more. You need him climbing on top of you, replacing your fingers with his. His hot breath against your neck as he rubs you harder and faster. 
"What are you thinking about?"
"You." You say breathily.
"What about me?"
Your eyes shoot open to stare at him, he looks tense and flustered. Just as bad as you. His hand stops moving on his cock and you make a mental note that he might've been close. Too close. And this might be over too soon.
"Your fingers on my clit, rubbing me," you throw your head back as the fantasy flashes again. 
"Yes, and what else?" He growls. 
"Your mouth." You breathe again.
"My mouth, huh?" He bites and your fantasy continues. 
"Yes. Everywhere." You cry out, orgasm seconds away. "Your mouth on me, about to- God, Jeno I'm gonna cum,” your back arches, hips bucking, fingers moving so fast and rough. 
"Look at me." Your eyes fly open at the command. "I want you to cum whilst looking at me."
And you do. The sheer dominance radiating off of him is the final straw that has you crashing down. 
Your orgasm rips through you as your hips lift so far off the bed. You moved your fingers through your orgasm, riding it out but finally, your hips fell back to the bed and you let out a heavy breath.
Before you could even open your eyes again, you felt two large arms wrap under your thighs gripping your hips, and suddenly you’re yanked to the end of the bed. Your eyes snap open, and your head lifts up as you spy Jeno on his knees at the end of the bed, his mouth centimetres from your dripping pussy.
"J-Jeno,” you mumble, just the sight of him has you moaning. 
You’re not sure if getting yourself off in front of him was the moment you both decided to cross the line; but now him manoeuvring between your legs, you knew you definitely had. Regardless, you know now you aren't ever going back to the dynamic you had before. 
"I’m gonna make those fantasies come to life baby.” 
He doesn't miss a beat. His tongue comes out and swipes a long lick up and through your folds. All common sense leaves your head as you fall back against the bed. 
"God, you taste so good. I fucking knew you would." 
He’s thought about this? You know you have. 
He repeats the motion again, this time focusing on your clit, making sure to run a smooth stripe along it, circling it only slightly, enough to have you wriggling. One of his hands splays over your stomach, holding your hips down. 
"I want you to cum on my tongue. I want to taste every drop of you,” you gulp, looking down at him between your thighs. You don't miss the dark pupils in his eyes and that daring look, the one telling you to follow his instructions. 
"Jeno, oh my god,” you cry out, your head flying back as his mouth attacks your clit. He sucks it in, flicking his tongue all over in a frenzied motion. 
You know he knows all the right ways to make a girl squirm. And you are fucking squirming. All over the fucking bed, you’d be breaking free from him if he didn't have his large veined hand holding your stomach down. Your stomach is now on show. Your t-shirt has risen up to just below your breasts and you see the way his eyes watch the movement as you move about, tits bouncing around.
And as if he can hear your thoughts he says,
"Take your top off." 
You do it without question, lifting the hem and throwing it over your head. Now you’re laying there completely naked. His hand that was on your stomach comes up and takes hold of one breast, instantly taking your nipple between his fingers and you hear him, no you feel him, moan into your pussy. 
The vibrations cause you to cry out, hands knuckling the bed sheets. 
"You're so fucking hot Y/N, God." He murmurs before attacking you again, his mouth working wonders.
And that tongue. You’re so close. You can feel it. 
Then you feel as he slides two fingers into you. Jeno curls his fingers inside of you, hitting some sort of sensitive spot, and as soon as his fingers massage that area inside you and his mouth returns to your clit, you explode.
You don't even know if the music downstairs would cover your screams as you fell into ecstasy. His hand on your breast doesn’t  move, but the one that had been hooked on your hip moves to splay against your stomach holding you down as he laps at you, riding you through your second orgasm until you couldn’t take it anymore. He pulls his fingers out, then his mouth away from you at just the right time.
You lay there spent. Completely. 
Eyes fluttering open. Jeno stood between your legs looking down at you. His cock looked painful in his jeans. You had once felt exhausted and ready to fall asleep but as soon as you saw his erection you shot up in your seat. You immediately fumble with his jeans until his hand comes to your jaw, pulling your head up to look into his eyes. He stares for a moment before blinking, taking a deep breath.
"You don't have to- I didn't do that for you to-"
"I want to. I want this." You nod eagerly,"I want you.” 
You lick your lips and it's as if something snaps in him, that moment of care vanishes and he lets go of your chin.
"Well then, suck my cock,” he says, standing there and you do as you’re told.
You unfasten his jeans, pull them down and then his underwear. His large erect cock springs free instantly and without a second thought you take hold of him in your hand. Your hands look tiny against his dick. 
You move your hand slowly up and down his cock, and notice how his thighs tense, then his stomach and you follow your eyes up until you meet his face. His head is hung low, eyes dark and hands clenched by his sides. Keeping your eyes on his, you lean forward and spy the precum, flicking your tongue out and taking it in to swallow down with a moan that makes him grunt. 
You moved so that your face was closer to his balls, then you stroked your tongue all along his length, and felt the way he flexed beneath your muscle. There’s a cocky smirk covering your face when you move back to the top and suck his tip into your mouth.
"Do you like sucking my cock?" He asks, his hand threading into your hair to start pulling on the roots to yank your head backwards. 
"Do you like it when I suck your cock, Jeno?" You flip the question with a smile the power in your hands. You continue working him and he flexes his hand in your hair.
"That's how you wanna play?" He grins at you.
You pretend to think for a moment, "I’m not playing anything." You move your head closer down his length, licking  another long stripe hearing how he curses under his breath and thrusts his hips towards you. "I just want to suck your cock." 
With that, you take him into your mouth, sliding down until you reach your limit. You can't take him whole, he’s way too big for that, but you take what you can. He coughs and splutters a bunch of inaudible words, but you just pull back up and repeat the motion, continuing to take him back into your throat. 
His hand stays threaded in your hair, keeping a rough hold so that you can't pull away — not that you wanted to.  
You love every second. Even as you feel him tensing, his hips moving as he thrusts into your mouth. You look up through your lashes to see his head thrown back as he moans out and hisses every so often when you drag your teeth along his cock. You can tell he likes it as the precum coats your tongue. That and the way he doesn't tell you to stop. 
"Do. That. Again."
And you do, watching his head fall forwards."Such a pretty sight, my cock filling your mouth. What do you think your brother would think about this?" he smirks and your face falls pale.
You almost stop sucking his dick but he doesn't let you, slamming his hips forwards so his cock hits the back of your throat.
Your brother.
Not a thought you want to think about right now but it is something you needed to consider. This was his best friend. You’d finally gotten the man so forbidden, always out of bounds. The whole time you didn’t know that he wanted you as much as you wanted him. 
You moan uncontrollably, and it must send vibrations along his cock as you feel it twitch in your mouth, his thrusts become sloppy and his grip on your hand grows tighter. 
"Fuck, Y/N, I'm gonna cum." He grits out. "Are you gonna let me cum in that pretty mouth of yours?" 
You look up at him. You can't speak so you try to nod. 
"God, you’ve always been the death of me," He thrusts several more times as you slide your tongue all over his length and tip. 
You do it a final time as you take him to the back of your throat, gliding your teeth along him which must've been his undoing as you felt the hot steaming cum splatter against the back of your throat. 
You pulled him out your mouth slowly. Even as he is softening he is still thick and large. You kitten lick the tip as he hisses, causing him to loosen his grip in your hair and you sit back, making sure to obviously gulp so he knows you swallowed every last drop of him. Leaning forwards, his hand comes to your chin and he moves his mouth so close to your you think he might kiss you but instead he says,
"Good girl." 
You hate the way those two words made you clench your thighs together. You thought the two orgasms were enough but no, you’re ready for more. You need more. 
He’s quick to remove his shirt, and as he lifts his arms his abs flex. You are point-blank gawking at him standing before you, making him smirk. 
That snaps you out of it. Remembering you are sitting here, soaking wet and naked before him. You crawl back on the bed and then realise you have no duvet so you have to pull your knees to your chest and cross your arms over your knees to cover yourself. 
He watches you, laughs and then shakes his head. He then moves, shoving off his jeans and underwear the rest of the way off until they both land on the floor.
"Wh-What are you doing?" You ask stuttering, thinking he should actually be getting dressed to leave.
"What do you think I'm doing?" he asks. 
Can't he ever just give you a simple answer? 
Then you notice how his cock has sprung to life again and his hand moves to touch it. Moving up and down the length as he cracks his neck.
"You're h-hard again?" You stutter, eyes glued to the impressive size of him. 
"I'm always hard for you baby." He winks and for once, it didn't make you want to punch him. 
"Jeno, we can't." You shake your head.
 You’re already way past the line. Sex would destroy the whole scale. Still, the idea of him, his cock inside of you, whispering filthy things in your ear... it isn't something you can ignore. 
"You want it." He says point blankly. 
You gulp and remain silent. He moves onto the bed, kneeling and then crawls towards you until he is over you. His hair has fallen over his eyes — so fucking hot. "I know you want it, why try to deny it?" He cocks his head to the side, smugly.
"I-I'm not." You fidget. 
“Yes, you are." He ducks his head low, burying it in your neck. You feel his warm breath and your heartbeat rackets so loud. "You don't want to want me to fuck you,” His teeth graze your neck, sending you into a panting mess as he sucks and bites. 
He then pulls away and laps at the mark you know is there, the one he put there as a reminder tomorrow when you come to your senses that you did this.
"So I’ll ask again. What do you want?" He looks down at you, plump pink lips swollen and wet from his constant licking and biting them. 
You’re going to let your brothers best friend fuck you. And you’re going to love every second of it.
Not wasting another moment longer to think, you grab hold of his neck and lift your head whilst pulling him to you to smash your lips together. There’s heat, fire, and explosions of electricity. 
Your hands claw at his neck, his back, his sides. Anything to pull him closer. His crotch, his hard cock, grinds against your soaking hole and you groan out whilst continuing to kiss him. Both so desperate for each other. His hands skim down your body, kneading your breasts, your hips. He grabs hold of anywhere and everywhere. 
His lips detach from yours, giving you a moment to see how swollen they are before they're attacking your neck. He peppers kisses along your jaw, not sweet kisses but hard and sloppy kisses. Sucking and biting the skin causing your back to arch into his chest, pushing your breasts against him, making him moan. He thrusts his hips forwards, his cock sliding between your folds, hitting against your clit making you quiver.
"Fuck, we really shouldn't be doing this." He continues kissing you down your neck, reaching your collar bones that he also decides to leave marks on. 
"Jeno please," you cry out. Both of his hands move to your hips to hold you still. 
"Please what baby?" He smirks before moving lower to take one of your nipples into his mouth.
"Fuck Jeno,” you cry out as he flicks his tongue over the bud, biting it harshly so you cry out again then soothing it with a soft warm suck.
"Please what baby?" He repeats. 
"Fuck me. Now!”
"And what about your brother?" he brings him up again and you roll your eyes. 
"Stop bringing him up," You moan as he takes your other nipple into his mouth, repeating the process.
"He'll kill us if he finds out." he grins.
"Then he can't find out," You pant out of breath as Jeno moves.
His face is so close to yours that your lips are only just touching, his chest is pushed against you and his cock sits lodged between your folds. You try to shift to gain some friction against your clit but his grip holds you still. His eyes flicker across your face then he says,
"I won't tell if you won't?" His lips caress yours in the faintest of movements. You flick your tongue out to wet your lips, but in the process he bites onto your muscle making you wince then moan, "What do you think, huh?” 
There’s no room for discussion — your body won’t let you. 
"I won't tell if you won't."
He doesn't miss a beat once he gets your approval. His lips are on yours as his hips thrust forwards. His cock thrusting inside of you, tearing you open as you pull your mouth away to cry out.
"Holy fuck."
He stills once inside you, making sure to push as far as possible until his pelvis meets your skin. Your legs wrap around his waist instantly.
"You feel so fucking good." He breaks from your kiss to breathe. "I always knew you would but this-" he looks down to where you are connected and he thrusts further, trying to get deeper but he can't possibly. "-this is better than anything I could've imagined." 
"Move, please." You grunt trying to lift your hips to encourage some movement. His eyes fly open, dark and daring. 
"Beg me." He smirks and does a tiny thrust, a teasing thrust.
"Fuck off,” you pant, trying to do it yourself but he uses his hips to pin you to the bed.
"Beg." He smiles and cocks his head to one side. "Me."
You hated his arrogance. But fuck, you want him so bad. So badly that you will beg.
"Please fuck me, Jeno." He pulls out of you and you suck in a deep breath.
"Again." He grins now. 
You can't bear to look at him but looking down means watching as he holds just the tip inside of me.
"Please. Fuck. Me." You pant, half moaning, begging for him. 
He thrusts so hard into you, you wince and moan out in pleasure. He hit so deep inside that you’re sure you’ll bruise.
"Anything for you, Y/N,” he whispers in your ear before sucking and biting on the lobe. 
Then he's pulling out and thrusting into you. Again. And again. And again. Harder and harder each time. Faster and faster. You lose your breath, becoming a big ball of pants and moans — just like  Jeno.
God, the sounds he makes. You’ve never heard someone so vocal before, but fuck it's hot. The small grunts he makes when he fucks you, the groans when you clench around his cock and feel yourself building. He moves his hands under your ass to lift it, plummeting into you from a new angle, going so much deeper.
"Your pussy is so tight. Fuck,” He says between thrusts, and gritted teeth. 
He seems to have found a weak spot right under your ear that has you clenching like mad around his cock. And he loves it. 
"How have you just been there in front of me this whole time? How have I stayed away from you?" He seems to be asking himself because he doesn’t press you for a reply. 
He removes his lips from your neck and sits back on his heels, his cock still inside of you, slowing his thrusts and he lifts your legs up, moving them over his shoulders. His head moves from side to side, placing a soft kiss on each ankle and for one second. You’re dumbfounded as he looks at you, a daring smirk written across his face. 
He wraps his arms around your thighs, locking your legs in a straight position against his chest on either side of his head, and then he begins pounding into you again. However this time, he moves one of his hands to your centre, his thumb moving closer to your clit. You feel how it grazes your nerves. He strums it once. Twice. Three times then you're wriggling around like a mess, back arching off as your orgasm tears through your body and you explode into euphoria. Again.
He rides you through it, fucking you as you clench and squeeze around him. A string of curse words come out of him, you feel him so close but he doesn't cum. He stops stroking your clit as you batted his hand away, you didn't realise you had been clenching the sheets with white knuckles until you relax your hands and feel a cramp in your palm.
Jeno slows his thrusts until he stills inside of you, his chest is moving up and down with each of his heavy breaths. You move your legs off of his shoulders, enjoying the movements as your legs feel strained too.
But as soon as your feet hit the bed, he grabs you and flips you so you land on your stomach. He pulls your hips up and slides into you again.
"Fuck!" You scream as he slams into you unapologetically. One hand holding your hip, the other trails along your back as he begins fucking you from behind. He leans over you, still ploughing, and comes closer to your ear.
"I always wanted to fuck you like this, you are always strutting around showing off, your ass? Do you like teasing me?" 
You don't even know what you like right now. Mind too focused on needed Jeno to fuck you any way he pleased. 
He grins, then shoves your head back down into the mattress, straightening his back and fucks you harder than you think you’ve ever have been before. You couldn't keep up with the movements, head a complete daze from all of the orgasms that he had given you.
You come to a conscious mind when a hard slap lands on your ass, it makes your pussy throb so he does it again, and again, rubbing over the area and soothing it before doing it again. Each time it makes you clench around him. 
"Jeno," you cry out between thrusts.
"Yeah, baby?" His voice sounded so much deeper, which told you he was close. That and the way his thrusts grew random and unstable.
"Want you to cum in me," You moan, clenching the sheets again. 
"I'm not wearing a condom," He grits through his teeth. 
"I'm on the pill,” you manage to say between heavy breaths. You needed him to cum in you now. 
He shakes his head, "Last thing I need is to get my best friend's little sister pregnant." And that was that because he thrust a few more times, then pulls out, and instantly, all over your ass and back you felt a hot liquid splatter about. 
As soon as his grip left your hip you fell straight down onto the mattress, and your body was thankful for it. Everything hurt. He'd destroyed you. Fucked you, well and truly. And you couldn't stop the smile on your face.
"I'll go get a cloth." He said through some heavy breaths then climbed off of the bed and went to your bathroom. He emerged a moment later, used the warm cloth to clean up his mess although you notice him take a minute to look at it.
"Admiring your work?" You asked him through a laugh, he looked at you and shook his head chuckling. 
"Trust me, if I could take a picture I would,” he wipes it away. Then he returned to the bathroom to throw the cloth in the hamper but as soon as he stood in the doorway of you heard three loud knocks on your bedroom door. 
"Y/N? You in there? Have you seen Jeno?" 
You shot up in bed, suddenly not tired or spent. Jeno’s eyes grew wide too.
You lifted your finger to your lips and gestured to Jeno to stay in the bathroom. He didn't hesitate as he shuts the door. 
Jaemin would fucking kill him and you, without a doubt. Only moments ago you had his best friend’s cum covering your ass. 
"One second," you shout,  jumping out of bed and grabbing your T-shirt. Then you rush over to the door, paint on your best sleeping face and yawn whilst opening it. 
"Oh, you were asleep?" Jaemin stood on the other side, hands braced on either side of the door frame.
You fake another yawn. He looks behind you and you turn too, fearful Jeno was standing there but then you spied your duvet cover on the other side of the room. Jamein frowned and looked back to you. 
"I was hot." You shrug. 
"Shit sorry," He quickly says. "I just can't find Jeno anywhere.” 
"He’s your friend not mine.”
"I don’t understand why you two hate each other," He rolls his eyes and you can't help but scoff at the irony. 
Hate wasn’t exactly the word you’d use for the guy that was just 8 inches deep inside of you. 
"Well, he's probably off getting high or fucking some girl.” 
“Better not be in our parent’s bed again,” he huffs, and your eyes go wide. “Fuck, he better not be doing it in my bed either,” he says to himself. 
And with that, he storms away heading for his room. Chuckling, you shut the door and Jeno emerges from the bathroom, a towel now wrapped around his waist and he stands there facing you. 
"That was close."
"Too close." You sigh. 
He dresses himself as you climb back in bed, getting your duvet back on and covering yourself with it. He walks over to the door and pulls it open, peeking outside to check the coast is clear, then once he does he turns to look over his shoulder at you.
"Our secret?" He says.
"Our secret." You nod and he steps out, not looking back and shuts the door.
You lie back on your bed, head falling into your pillows and laugh. 
But then you shake your head processing it all, moving your hand to cover your mouth, looking at the ceiling. 
You just fucked your brother’s best friend.
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marvelsswansong · 4 months
Note
Imagine corio seeing a woman flirt with r he’s so confused cuz he’s used to disgusting men after her only
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no but like seriously 🌞👉👈
Corio isn't oblivious to the fact that there is a price for dating someone as beautiful as you. Namely, that others - doesn't matter if they're complete strangers or close working colleagues - will secretly want you, with some of them even being bold enough to try and entice you.
This is all much to his annoyance, as he tries being very public about the fact that you're his. Think constant arm around your waist, aggressive kisses in public, loudly calling you 'darling' from across the room. But that doesn't seem to deter everyone.
Especially not the types of men in the Capitol.
If he's feeling calmer that day, he might just stop at glaring at the man whilst pulling you away by the waist, or knocking the breath of you by suddenly grabbing your face and kissing you fiercely for the crowd of men to see. If he's in a sour mood, or it's been a hard week, you have to be careful to keep an eye on the blonde in case he flies into a fit of rage and his mind starts to scan the room for whatever is sharp and capable of causing damage.
"Sometimes I feel as if I have to babysit you." you would tease after one particularly harsh night, where you and Corio get thrown out of a house party after he smashed another man's face into the wall and then proceeded to twist the man's arm to the point of almost breaking a bone. Granted, the man had been extremely aggressive towards you and making very inappropriate comments, but it'd been rather awkward to see the stranger be carried onto an ambulance whilst the head of the household ordered the both of you out.
Chest heaving and knuckles still bruised from the impact, he'd just kiss you again, his tongue tasting of copper.
"Can't help it. You're too pretty." he whispers, and all your criticisms of him would fly out the window.
But Coriolanus is always less guarded when it's a woman around you. After all, you have so many best friends who are women, you spend so much time around grandma'am and Tigirs, and so on. He just associates women being around you with platonic love and comfort.
So when you leave him to go get some drinks at the bar, a fancy upper east side bar you've been begging to go to, he's too busy searching the room for potential men who approach you to notice the red haired woman beelining towards you. She bumps into you 'on accident', pink champagne spilling over the tip of the glass just a bit - a light splash on your jeans, but nothing too bad.
"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry." she quickly says, grabbing a nearby napkin to hand it off to you. Coriolanus watches the interaction from the back of the club, the specifics of your conversation with her unintelligble over the loud music, but he doesn't think anything much of it. Even when the auburn haired woman's fingers brush against yours whilst exchanging the napkin.
He watches as you smile politely at her, probably telling her that it's okay, before turning around to the bartender to make an order. The woman next to you continues to talk to you through out the exchange, which again doesn't raise any red flags to Corio.
After all, women are very friendly by nature. It's normal that someone, especially a stranger who feels bad for spilling a drink on you, wants to continue to talk to you.
You don't think much of it either on your end, other than thinking that she - Clara, she tells you her name after a soft giggle - is very nice.
It's only when the drinks arrive and the woman stops you, lightly sitting you back down and brushing away the hair from your eyes, that Coriolanus starts feeling rather odd. The sudden wide eyes on your face and the red haired woman's smirk, before she slides you a piece of paper from her back pocket and lets you go, raises a lot of questions in his mind.
His top options? Something along the lines of bribery or illegal drugs. Or maybe she's using you to get something from him. Or maybe she wants something from your family.
What he doesn't expect, is for you to come back totally speechless, fingers deftly hanging onto the small piece of paper. You look somewhere between embarrassed and shocked, refusing to meet your boyfriend's eyes as you sit down next to him. He frowns at that, patting his lap instead.
Normally, you'd sit on his legs without a second thought. This time though, you hesitate.
"What'd she want? Drugs? Mone-" he growls, only to be cut off by the stranger.
"So you weren't lying. You do have a boyfriend." the red haired woman cuts into the conversation, now sitting on the velvet chair across from you. Coriolanus swears his jaw almost drops when the woman laughs seductively, winking at you whilst uncrossing her legs.
"You can sit on my lap instead, honey."
"I, you- I just-" Coriolanus starts speaking in an attempt to swear or scare her off, but his mind totally blanks.
You've never seen your boyfriend this flustered. His pale complexion breaks into a dark shade of red, his usually stern gaze darting back and forth between you and the woman, his speech stuttered and jumbled. It's YOU who ends up having the composure to let her down gently, holding out the paper with her phone number out towards her and informing her that you love your boyfriend very much and you're not that interested.
She pouts at that, and it makes your boyfriend's jaw clench so hard his face aches.
"Aw... alright, darling. But keep the paper. You know, just in case you wanna play."
With a wink and a hair flip, she disappears into the dark crowd of sweaty bodies and loud music. It's only then that your boyfriend snaps into action, taking the paper into his hands and shredding it to pieces.
"She called you darling." he snarls, angry. "Only I get to call you darling."
You just giggle, kissing away his sour expression, before tugging at his sleeves.
"Come on, forget about it. Let's just dance." you say, the alcohol in your veins still making you feel buzzed. He complies, never being able to say no to you, but the entire night, he can't help but hold you very close and glare at everyone who approaches you or even looks at you.
Regardless of their gender.
Now, he has to protect you from everyone, he thinks.
BONUS SCENARIO (later in the night)
You've had one too many drinks and yell into Coriolanus' ear that you really need to go to the bathroom. You clutch your handbag and stumble into the corridor, leaving your boyfriend alone by the bar. A stunning blonde woman slides into the empty seat next to him, glossy lips parting to ask a question.
Thinking she's going to hit on him, he raises his right hand, stopping her on the spot.
"I'm not interested, sorry."
The woman scoffs at that, ordering a tequila shot and almost glaring at him.
"Neither am I, genius. I was just wondering if you knew the name of the cutie who just went to the bathroom."
The moment you come back, he practically drags you out of the bar and hails a cab back to the apartment.
He's had enough of women trying to steal you from him. At least for that night.
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a/n: hope you guys like this small type of blurbs too in between major fics hehe
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coryosbaby · 3 months
Text
18+, MDNI !! specific hair type mentioned
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Js thinkin’ about Drug dealer! Trailer trash! Anakin…
I can imagine you’re outside smoking a cigarette in your pretty pink nightgown, curlers all pinned up, your fluffy house shoes pressing against the damp summer ground. You’re sitting down on the front steps of your trailer as you listen to Anakin and Padmē argue over and over. So much for a smoke break.
But then, with one last mean remark, Anakin is slamming his screen door and barreling down the steps in anger. Tattoos all over his arms, wearing jeans and no shirt or shoes…nipple piercings on full display. He stands in the grass and tries to calm himself down.
Your face flushes with heat as you see him, and you turn your head as if you hadn’t noticed him there. But his eyes lock on you, and he calms a bit. Hes always had a soft spot for you, his pretty young neighbor. Always chasing away creeps and helping you carry in your groceries, selling you pot that isn’t laced (‘you can’t trust the crackheads in this fuckin’ trailer park. Come to me if you ever need any shit like that, okay?’). You can’t deny the crush you’ve had on him for the longest time. You guess you’re just like your momma in that way— always going after men old enough to be your dad, men that you shouldn’t ever associate with. Men that are bad news.
Anakin sighs, jeans hanging low on his hips, and you try not to drool.
“Did you hear all of that?”
You give him a shy, timid smile. You awkwardly shuffle on your feet.
“A little. I’ve only been out here for five minutes, though.”
He hums, his eyes moving down to the cigarette in your manicured hand.
“Can I bum one?”
You nod, and the man walks over the short distance between your houses and sits down beside you. He smells like cologne, sweat, and a little bit of alcohol. Not in a bad way, though. It makes you practically dizzy with want, your thighs prsssing together as he lets out a small “thanks, dollface” as he reaches into your nightgown pocket and pulls out your half empty pack of Marlboros. He lights up, smoke billowing out of his nostrils as he exhales and leans back against your screen door.
“I’m sorry,” he says. “I try not to yell, but..”
He shakes his head, as if it isn’t worth discussing. You knee bumps against his, and you shrug.
“It’s okay. I get it.”
His shoulders relax, his ring clad fingers skimming your thigh. He give you an amused smile as he sees the curlers in your hair.
“About to go to bed, grandma?”
You roll your eyes at his teasing, taking a long drag.
“Yeah, actually.”
“Mmm..” His hand comes up to your face, stroking the soft skin of your cheek. Your eyes widen, a flush coating your cheeks. “It’s cute, y’know. The way you always wear your hair like this at night.”
You struggle to find words, your lips parting with every breath. Anakin’s eyes light up, as if remembering something, and he reaches into his pocket.
“You still smoke?” He asks, a baggy of weed now in his palm. You say yes because it’s true, and invite him inside your house.
And of course, it isn’t long before he’s got you whining for him. A joint and a half later, your pussy is spread out on his cock as he takes you against your bedroom wall. He doesn’t fuck you on your bed— he says it’s hotter this way, taking you so desperately. He fills you up damn near perfectly, his face buried into your neck as he holds you up with his strong arms.
All the while, your curlers are falling out, house shoes halfway off your toes, your nightgown lifted up and slightly ripped from his roughness. Your loose, unfinished curls stick against your forehead as he pummels you, and he practically laughs in your face.
“Oh, baby,” he says. “Hair’s so messy, ‘s fuckin’ adorable.”
You cry from embarrassment, drooling all over his lips when he pulls you into a wet ‘n messy kiss. Your fingers card through his dyed black locks, lashes fluttering when he thumbs your clit.
“Oh!” You let manage to let out, slick pooling as you cream on his cock. “Ani, ani, feel s’ good…”
“Yeah?” He breathes, with jagged thrusts into your weeping cunt. “Cmon, dollface. Let the whole trailer park hear you. That’s my fuckin’ girl.”
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:: @mysticpenguincreation @nightmare-niko @iheartinkonpaper @claireyberryy @becauseseaotters @emmalandry
creds to @fuckmyskywalker for this amazing idea 🩷🩷
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mockingkatniss · 2 months
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NEED A RIDE? - drug dealer!Coriolanus Snow
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18+ | nswf | mdni
warnings and tags: swearing, mention of drug dealing, smut, sloppy making out, multiple orgasms, blowjob, mention of gagging, body fluids, use of words like “wh0re” or “slu7”, specific body descriptions. BUZZCUT CORYO (little bit of a jump-scare for some of y’all) MODERN!AU, p in v sex, reader is just soft but not innocent, intese sex, porn without plot. (If I missed anything lmk).
(not proof read because I was tired, I will fix eventual errors <3)
summary: one particularly hot summer evening coryo sees you riding your bike while he’s driving he’s car around mindlessly and he ask you if you need a ride.
words count: 3.109k
Wanted to thank so so much @swiftiekisses because the drug dealer!coryo au it’s hers but she inspired me a lot and I also love so much her writing that I wanted to contribute with this fic! Also a big thanks to @euphemiaamillais because I’m literally addicted to what she writes and for inspirations for the drug dealer! au too! <3
enjoy and support me with a comment or a tiny heart! 💗🎀
coriolanus was driving by the quiet and deserted road of his god forsaken forgotten little town.
he hoped almost every morning to just wake up and found his rotten little city was torn down by some natural catastrophe.
he thought that dreams or ambitions couldn’t come true here. since his family lost everything due to his father's poor life choices, he was now stuck with poverty at 18 years and a cousin and grandmother to look after. more correctly just grandmother, since tigris left for college just the year prior.
to round some money he worked at the gas station, a literal hell hole in summer and plus coryo was sure he left part of his soul here, and sold some drugs to younger kids or kids his age at school or at parties but most of the times they directly came to the gas station.
if a drug had a name it was mostly probable that coryo had it to sell
that summer was cruel, sweat sticking to clothes and the asphalt so hot it could melt shoe soles, so cruel that coryo decided just two days ago to buzz his beautiful platinum curls off. the super short hair gave him a totally new appearance, he noticed that at the last party he went to sell, that mostly girls bought from him, stucking dollar bills inside his front jeans pocket and sometimes begging for a kiss or some good old make out. he accomplished and accepted that he was just extremely hot.
his car moaned underneath him as he drove, that old piece of garbage was still going on but coryo feared that someday he would be left walking.
it was 7:35 pm, his shift at the gas station over since sejanus plinth took his place for the night shift. sejanus was a nice kid, he was rich but decided to take another path just having shitty jobs during the summer like most teens even though for him it wasn't necessary having one. he didn’t sell drugs but he covered coryo so many times at school or at work so he was ok.
coryo had a small joint hanging from his lips as he drove, just one hand on the steering wheel and both the car’s windows opened since his ac was (obviously) broken, but even the air was heavy and warm that night.
miraculously the bluetooth radio was still working so he was listening to some trap rap music on his cracked up phone, the screen broken from everytime he made it fall while running away from cops or simply on the floor on a daily basis. as the music went on he thought about how the suggestion to listen to that genre of music came from clemensia e arachne at school, but it was nice for once not only listening to metal or punk rock.
while he took another hit from his joint something caught his eye on the road. it was a bike, someone was riding it and he probably knew who it could be.
the bike was faded pink with old stickers on it and you were riding it tiredly, legs sore and sweat sticking to your skin.
your tiny tight skirt was riding up a little showing some more of your thighs and coryo swore to god that he saw a glimpse of your pink panties.
sometimes you bought from him some weed and nothing more. you were a literal sunshine and at school you talked to everyone, being friendly and helpful. coryo still remembers how you helped him with physics the first year of highschool. you both were still young but nature obviously blessed you donating you such a sexy body.
he instantly felt his cock gently twitch into his jeans and he made the smoke from the joint exiting his nostrils in annoyance. don’t you get coryo wrong, he had sex and sure plenty of it but since the hot sticky summer he wasn’t feeling like it to just screw some girl even though he just needed to say the words. it was peculiar how his cock woke up just by seeing you.
he drove nearby you slowly to keep up with your velocity and you looked over to acknowledge the presence of a car and as you recognized the driver you smiled throughout puffed breaths from hotness and the riding.
coryo made a small smirk while pulling the joint away from his lips to talk. “hey bunny, need a ride?”. you slowly stopped your bike, tippy toes of your pink vans scratching on the asphalt. coryo stopped the car too and since the streets were dead he just got off his vehicle to look at you while positioning the almost finished joint on the car roof.
you panted lightly as you talked as you examined his presence. “it would be so nice coryo, I think I’m about to faint because of the heat”. he nodded understandingly with his head to the car behind him. “get on, I’ll get the bike” coryo thought he was going crazy when you got off the bike seat revealing more of your thighs. you collected your backpack and lifted yourself up on your tippy toes to kiss his cheek, strawberry lip gloss scent evident on his skin too now. “thank you coryo you’re my savior” you said before going to the opposite back of the car.
once the bike was fixed in the back he turned the car back on, securing his joint back around his lips once again while grabbing his lighter inside his jeans front pocket.
“where am I taking you?” he asked while lighting the joint to take a long drag before passing it to you. “I’m going to my dads house, it’s near the football field, 32nd house” you explained as coryo nodded knowing where it was since he spent much more time driving around in his free time than anything else. you also accepted the joint starting to smoke with relaxed muscles.
coryo looked over at you while driving, there was a peaceful silence. his elbow leaned outside the car’s window as his slim fingers tapped the steering wheel gently while driving. you noticed his rings decorating his fingers and his new buzz cut hair made his features even more sharp. you took three puffs from the joint handing him it back while caressing your naked thighs trying to pull down the miniskirt.
coryo savored till the last minute your lucid lips around the filter that he made, somehow the sweat made your skin warm and inviting, the blonde felt his cock twitch again and he fixed himself on the seat while trusting with his hips forward. he coughed a bit taking the last puff while tossing the dead joint outside the car. “how's it going in general?” you asked softly feeling already your head light but not too much, it was pleasant. “mh it’s ok, it’s too hot to work or to do anything else, I just want winter back” coryo explained briefly, voice slightly rough from smoking. you chuckled while leaning over to him to pinch his cheek softly. “awww snow wants his snow back doesn’t he?” coryo smiled while looking over to her, instinctively he turned over his face to scratch your fingers with his teeth playfully as you kept messing with him. “by the way, you look good today, bunny, but riding that bike with just this tiny skirt? a little bit dangerous don’t you think?” he asked while gripping the steering wheel with both hands. “how is it dangerous? riding my bike won’t stop me” you felt like wanting to touch him so much, so you placed your hand on his thigh. coryo was one of the hottest boys at school and his reputation made him even hotter and you were a total slut for bad boys.
at your gesture he stiffened a bit looking down at you delicately manicured hand and you kept caressing him going higher and higher but stopping just before his crotch. “can’t keep your hands to yourself now?” he tried to be ironic but just your presence had made him incredibly hard and it was difficult to not stop the car and fuck you in the back seats, your pretty head pressed into the plush of the seats. “maybe I don’t want to keep them to myself” you shrugged while pulling away your hand as he stopped the car in front of your dads house.
he exited the car while trying to hide his hard on while pulling his jeans around to crotch to fix the situation but nothing was effective. coryo pulled your bike outside the back of his car and you thanked him again while kissing his cheek but making the kiss longer. he sighed with a smirk while placing his big warm hand on your hips. you caressed his chest while looking up at him, a small pout on your lips. “you’re busy?” you asked, your long lashes batting at him inviting. “mmh no bunny, i’ll probably just go home, smoke again and collapse on my bed” his thumbs caressed your exposed skin just a little bit above your skirt. “why don’t you come inside? my dads busy he won’t be home till tomorrow noon” you swayed your hips a bit with pleading eyes. “fuck bunny you’re truly tempting but-“ you interrupted him while taking his hand, pulling him towards the house. coryo gave in, closing the car with his keys by distance and following you inside. you were making him feral with your temptations and soft eyes.
thank god the house had an ac so it was cooler inside. you tossed your shoes away together with your backpack and went to the kitchen to collect some water for you both and coryo looked around noticing how the house was elegant and well kept.
he slipped off his beaten up black combat boots and just sat on the big couch. he almost sunk inside it, noticing it was a water couch and smirked as dirty thoughts filled his head.
“the water couch is amazing isn’t it?” you giggled while handing him a glass of water while bouncing next to him making the couch move in small waves. “yeah pretty comfortable” he said as he leaned the glass to his lips not looking away from you for any second.
you then smiled mischievously while slipping down the couch, your knees sinking in the soft fluffy carpet. you positioned yourself between his legs while going for the zipper of his pants pulling it down with pure eyes. coryo almost choked on his water as he looked at you with pleased eyes and a big smirk on his lips. “what the fuck are you doing bunny?” he breathed out a laugh as you tried to pull down his pants together with his boxers. “I want to suck you off so bad so lift up your butt now” your tone was playful and demanding and he did as you said making you able to pull his jeans and boxers down making his pink cock sprung to life. it leaned against his tummy perfectly. “what did I do to deserve something like this without even asking?” he placed his hands behind his head pushing his hips up so he could sink more into the water couch. “nothing special but you’re fucking hot and I can’t wait anymore,” you paused to spit on his tip gently while pushing some curls behind your ears. “and I just know you’re good at selling as you’re good at fucking” you giggled while finally gripping his base. “I knew you were big, shit” you were already fantasizing about taking him deep and hard inside your cunt. “you knew?” coryo laughed again but his breath was getting ragged slightly.
you just didn’t respond, kitten licking his tip and collecting precum as you looked up at him. he bit his bottom lip harshly to just concentrate not to burst his cum all over your pretty glittery makeup and long lashes.
you kissed his length till the base then licking a long stripe back up till you swallowed half his cock allowing space with your tongue and cheek. you started to suck and lick and the moans he was making were pornographic.
after a while saliva was dripping down your chin mostly when you decided to deepthroat him with a fluid movement making the water couch sway gently. “ah fuck bunny, you’re so fucking good” coryo moaned, lust clouding his blue eyes as he gripped your curls to buck into your throat just two times just to hear you gag shamelessly around his cock.
you smiled through teary lashes and bubbles of saliva and lifted your head to just suck at his tip harshly.
“shit- I’m gonna come bunny” coryo announced as you jerked off the rest of his cock while concentrating on the tip. at his words you pulled away standing up and his angry cock just leaned against his tummy as he bucked into air. “are you completely mad you fucking slut?” he said impulsively, the ruined orgasm hitting something into his mind profoundly.
you just smirked while slipping off your crop top and miniskirt. “what did you just call me coryo?” you asked while undoing your bra and slipping off your soaked pink panties. his mouth was slightly agape at your naked body, eyes obsessed. “I said you’re a whore, a slut” he said slowly and challengingly, lips mimicking each final letter. “oh yeah? let this slut show you how much of a whore she is.” you walked on the couch standing above him both of your feet planted on each side of his legs making the water couch giggle.
he was completely transfixed as you opened your legs leaning one of your knees on the headset of the couch. you grabbed his head from behind pushing his mouth on your dripping core.
coryo thought about cumming just from that, just from the smell of your juices and the taste of it.
it was so intense, his tongue lapping at your folds once in a while stopping to suck on your lips or clit while humming. his big hands gripped your ass squishing the plush meat here to push his face further into you.
you were a complete mess as you scratched his head and moaned shamelessly and loudly, hips bucking as you trusted him keeping you up to not let you fall.
“fuck coryo! fuck I’m coming!” you chanted as you gripped his head, legs quivering as your juices splashed into his face. coryo felt on cloud nine as he gripped your hips to not let you fall as he lapped at your juice like the starving dog he was. dying by suffocation from your pussy seemed the only best thing he could think of at the moment.
you came down from your high slipping down as you sat on his lap, grabbing his neck to kiss him sloppily to taste yourself in his mouth. you sucked his tongue, licked the roof of his mouth and even licked his teeth while he playfully rubbed your clit. “mh! I’m sensitive-“ you lamented while pushing his hand away, your lips glistening with his saliva. “I need you inside now coryo” you gently kissed his jawline and neck while rubbing your pussy onto his still angry cock. “your wish is my demand bunny but you’re not gonna come again sooner or later” as he said so with his low voice he pushed his cock inside of your thigh pussy helping himself with his fingers and you laughed a moan while arching and sitting fully on his hard member. he immediately hit your cervix so good you felt helpless.
it was the most passionate and sloppiest sex of your entire life. you rode him like your entire existence depended on it, you knees sunk into the water couch as you bounced on his cock helped by the gentle waves. his hands were placed right on top of your ribs as your hips were too quick to control anyways. you pushed your head so hard against his that your noses squished together as your forehead and your moans and shouts tangled together. both mouths opened, eyebrows furrowed.
coryo didn’t even remember his name anymore when you clenched hard around him signaling somehow that you were close. “stupid bunny thought she could come yeah?” he murmured around a moan as he gripped hard your ass to stop your intense riding. “what the fuck coryo? don’t stop please, fuck!” you lamented but when he pushed your back into the couch your eyes rolled in the back of your skull. coryo fucked into you helplessly, his orgasm close. your back arched and he massaged your breasts cupping them harshly. “shit fuck! I’m coming” he moaned, eyes fluttering close for a minute. to make you pay he pulled out, cum splashing on your tummy and even on your breasts from the intensity of it and you cried out loud from the loss of his cock inside of you. you even laughed a bit through cries because of where his cum landed but then you gripped his ear angrily. “make me come coryo, make me fucking come” she arched rubbing her pussy against his worked out cock. coryo panted a laugh and gripped your jaw with his hand tightly before leaning over to bit and pull your lower lip. he massaged your clit with all of his hand opened while looking at you. “look at your fucked out face, you’re completely drunk on my cock” he laughed again mischievously just to degrade you. he rubbed your entire pussy quickly, slapping your clit once in a while. “now you’re gonna come and admit that only my cock can make you this fucked up mh?” you nodded, eyes rolling once in a while. “yes, yes coryo, only you, only want your cock” he chuckled again while his hand kept going. “that’s what I wanted to hear bunny” at his last words you came, the orgasm making your entire skeleton tremble in pure bliss. you cried his name with your mouth wide open.
when you calmed down a bit he was just caressing your thighs while admiring your body painted with his cum and you smiled while stretching out a bit. “next time you’re gonna come inside coryo” you said it so naturally with a small smile and a yawn and coryo playfully slapped your sensitive clit with two fingers making you whine a bit. “I'm looking forward to the next time in like, 10 minutes, bunny.”
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starshipsofstarlord · 3 months
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Modern!Nat Being Your Dealer
summary - natasha romanoff is your dealer, and you go to collect your order, however you seem to have forgotten something important… though there is another way that you can pay for your addiction (2.1k)
warnings - 18+ minors dni, smut, oral (female receiving), fingering, drug dealing, sex in place of payment, swearing
natasha romanoff works other mcu works masterlist
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Everyone struggled in life, and once in a while they needed a little help. There were many ways people went about that, some people went to therapy, others enjoyed a good book, others listened to waves that had been recorded for that specific purpose. But none of those spectacles of aid made you feel any better.
And thus you had turned to substances instead of white noise, specifically one that was more common and less harmful - weed. A large majority of the population did it, and it was nothing to be ashamed about, it just made you unwind from the trauma that skulked in the darkest parts of your mind and coaxed you into a resting state of sleep.
Unbuckling your seat belt, you climbed out of your beat convertible, locking the vehicle behind yourself as you strode towards the locked hinges of your e of dealer's door. It felt suspenseful every time that you came here, knowing that it could be your last if your supplier was overturned by the forces for her illegal actions actions, and you wouldn't exactly be ignored pu so for purchasing from her.
But everything looked crisp and normal, just the way you liked it. Quickly as to not avert any attention you shot Natalia, the Russian importer a text letting her know that you had arrived to the destination where she handled business. It felt like a lifetime as you awaited for her to open the door and usher you inside, and once she unlocked the barricade of privacy you felt like you were hit by a brick.
It didn't matter how many times that you had seen the astoundingly attractive redhead, you always felt as though you were experiencing whiplash from being greeted with her appearance. It was an unruly kind of magnetism that she styled herself with, her lipstick was blurred subtly past the lines of her actual lips, her short bob was twisted with curls that she had no doubt patiently toyed with as she sat there, looming behind the frosted windows for her buyers.
And you were no more than another one of them, you had to remind yourself, even as slithered past her, both of your breasts briefly brushing as she allowed you entry before she followed your footsteps to the main room after bolting the door shut to as it had been. As usual you took a seat in the dusty and quaint living area as usual, her taking place opposite you as she disgustedly brushed specks off the fabric arm of the chair.
"I don't live here if that's what you're wondering." She smirked, making it undoubtedly clear that her tastes were too clean to permanently reside in a place like this. "So I'll take it you're picking up the usual?" It was the safe assumption on her part, there was no kindness in coaxing you to spend more on the grams of freedom that she rationed out for a price. Not to mention, with spare product there would no doubt be another soul that was prepared to take it off her hands.
"Yeah, please." A curt nod had the woman lounging her body to stretch so that she could pick up the complimentary medicine that she had self prescribed you for. The normal amount was visible through the small and clear baggy that carried the goods, and you immediately rushed to find the notes that would allow you to proceed in your pockets. But they were gone. Shit. This was the last thing that you needed after the day that you had endured with the whispers of thought that clouded your brain.
Panic settled over you, and thus with a dry mouth it was with wise decision that you chose to speak up. There was no point beating around the bush, after all this was your first slip up when it came to this, and you prayed to every ethereal being that it would be the last. "I seemed to have forgotten to put the cash in this jacket, would it be okay if i were to come by later to collect again?" It was embarrassing really, there was nothing that screamed being newer to the scene of all this mutual transaction than forgetting the payment.
"Trial and error one would say." Nat slouched back, dropping the bag mockingly in her lap so that you could see. "The problem is I'm not available for business later." So stupid, you thought to yourself, insulting yourself because she wouldn't for your blatant and misconducted dumb foolery. It certainly may have ben a mistake, but you were no doubt paying for it because you could not pay for what you had really wanted. With a gulp of apologetic waver of disregard, you stood on your two feet, eyeing the door as your escape.
You were just about to begin walking when the red headed conductor silenced all movement your body was ready to perform. "Uh, uh, uh." The noise of scolding that she proclaimed towards you made your heart beat a little faster, afraid that she was going to refuse future service to you altogether. However much you dreaded what she was going to say, you politely listened, intending to remain on her good side. "If you have time to spare, I don't mind being paid in other ways..."
"I'm sorry, I don't quite understand what you mean." Maybe it was plain obliviousness to Nat's ultimatum of a suggestion, or perhaps you didn't quite believe your body's instinct to the prowess in her eyes that made your spine coil in a retrograde of quivering arousal, but you avertedly decided to play it dumb. She stood, and strode towards you like a vixen, her wide eyes scorning every inch of your vessel, humming contentedly to herself.
"Don't be so naive little y/n," her tongue peeked out from her mouth, swiping languidly across her plump bottom lip. "You'll still be a respectable woman, you'll just have to respect me too... in an intimate way." Thinking to yourself, the hunger that ran through your veins which yearned for the intoxicating compulsion of the confident redhead was strivingly eager, and the addictive stock that sold, was endless.
"W-what did you have in m-mind?" You wanted some clarification before you drowned yourself in an action that could exempt you from her clientele, even if she had been explicit, only leaving the details of prolific actions out from her spoken equation. The thumping of your heart beat within your ears, running through your bloodstream that was declining from a subsidised high, as you ogled curiously at the the woman with priceless leverage.
"We all have things we want y/n," she admitted vaguely before going into detail, "and I, in exchange want you to give me an orgasm." Her hands rubbed soothingly up your arms, her skin surprisingly cold upon your flesh. She could sense your nervousness, it was openly apparent as you shivered for both her touch and the calming rush that would absorb itself into your form.
"Okay." You spoke meekly, withholding how eager you were to persevere provocatively towards the mysterious woman. A coy smile weaved its route upon her defining features, causing your walls to flutter obscenely below where they were dressed. You'd always thought that you would be above soliciting yourself in exchange for anything, but it proved to show that you could never be certain on an agenda until you came to the crossroads of it.
Your tongue poked outside of your mouth, nervously grooming the indents and crevices at the corner of your lips, preparing yourself for what Natasha was expecting. It made you realise how little you truly knew about the woman before you, the name that she had given you to address her by may have all been a hoax, to conceal her identity from any enforcers whom bought the stronger stuff from ratting her out to the feds.
But in the predicament that you had stumbled obliviously into, you needed to be nothing more than acquainted, it wasn't love, it was just business derived from the figments of pleasure, and whilst you were allured by the pros and cons that weighed argumentatively in your mind, you couldn't help but give this instance a block from your overthinking mindset. "I'm glad to hear," she conveyed, causing a deep laughter within her chest to be released as she noticed how tense that you had become.
She liked to see you squirm, she had decided. And perhaps next time you would forget payment again, of course she wouldn't mind if your skills were up to her standards of course, and if they weren't, she would unshackle the bedroom nerves that you were enduring with her own set of amorous control. The air hung thick between the both of you as she strolled casually back towards the seat that she had already claimed prior to your arrival, sitting down and spreading her clothed legs wide.
"Come here, and make me cum." Her instructions were far too persuasive, and you couldn't refrain from doing as you were told, willingly you fell to your denim clad jeans, watching intently as Nat unbuttoned her own trousers. "I don't even need to tell you what to do." She verbally observed, pushing down the layers covering her bottom half, including her lace designed panties. Her actions served you with the view of her core, and the sight made you salivate.
A part of you felt dirty, but you procured it in an encouraging way, as this was exactly how she wanted to see you. The position that you were in made warmth flush between your legs, even more so when her drug dealing hand swept into your hair, pulling your face closer to her cunt with the harsh grip that she had. You glanced up to watch her lust drowning eyes, before you entangled your lips with her lower ones, tasting her juices on your tongue.
You ran your tongue up her slit a few times, testing the waters before you suctioned your lips around your clit, sucking on the nerve filled bud, her body being devoured by heavenly sensations. "Fuck me." Her breath cast the words out as her emerald irises became obliterated by the bleakness of her pupils, and in a way you were, and to fuck her further into the pleasure that was flooding her veins, you raised your dominant hand, tracing your fingers around her slick entrance.
With integral driven lust, you pushed one of your digits inside of her, her hand weaving tighter within your locks, and forcing your face further into her cunt. You were amidst in an overwhelming sense of reality, as you hollowed your cheeks so that you could put more pressure around her clit. Her mouth gaped open as she leant sporadically in her seat, her hips bucking into your jawline as her legs wrapped around the back of your head.
Pumping your fingers at a quicker pace, you could feel her walls contracting around you tighter, and her moans evoking to a higher pitch. Her sounds echoed around the room that was in need of more furniture, and you knew that she was getting close, and so you continued on with your actions, daring to enter another finger inside of her, which made her reach her breaking point. Her lips floundered in a silent scream, as she came around the fingers that you had stuffed inside of her.
You continued slowly with drawing out her orgasm, before you pulled back and allowed breath to be inhaled through your mouth, removing your fingers so that you had the opportunity to lick them clean. After a few minutes passed, she unravelled her legs from how they had been pressed around your skull, deciding to sit up straighter, as she glowered at you, returning to her formal confirmation.
Silently she slid her underwear and bottoms back up her legs, leaving her fly open as she watched you stand before her, almost desperately. She was almost convinced to return the favour, but that wasn't what it was, instead it was payment, and she had the professionalism to an extent to make that clear. "Pleasure doing business with you again. Here's what you wanted." She threw the baggy at you, and surprisingly to yourself, you had caught the clear packaging that was filled with your goods.
In all honesty you had forgotten all about the weed, you had fallen into a spiral of delightful passion, and you could still taste her on your lips. Now it felt awkward, she was awaiting for your departure without a doubt as she expectedly nodded towards the door. "Uh, thanks." You fumbled with the bag, finding yourself to forget your money again, with purpose, the next time that you visited her to collect.
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Jason Todd Headcanons
Jason who will move you- whether it be placing a big hand on the small of your back to usher you through a busy crowd, or you're in his way, maybe in the kitchen rambling about something you saw on the news. He will wordlessly pick you up, tired and lethargic with bruised knuckles from the night before, and sit you on the counter. He mumbles something, makes a grunt to let you know to keep talking while one hand smooths up and down the inside of your thigh and the other opens the drawer you were blocking.
Jason who is obviously a theater kid- but if this is living with Bruce, moonlighting as Robin Jason, he'd be discrete. He'd say he needs the class as his obligatory elective and didn't take pottery because he doesn't like getting his hands dirty (lie). He'd sit near the back of the theater, but he'd listen intently, and every poetry assignment he'd turn in would be a work of fucking god. Every project, the teacher would ask him to perform instead of doing the alternative (some paper or poem) and maybe, just maybe, he'll say yes if he's comfortable enough.
Jason who hides food around his apartment and safehouses. Non-perishable, like trail mix, granola bars, little ziplocks of cereal. Dick had cut that habit, made Jason comfortable enough to understand he'll never have to worry, he'll never have to fend for himself by himself. Rising from the lazarus pit as an animated corpse turned everything on its head. The neurotic habits came back. If you're close enough, if he spends enough time at your place, it's likely you'll eventually find a baggie of chex mix sitting on top of your fridge.
Jason who is a barb. I'm not explaining this one, he just is. An honorary member of gag city 🫡
Jason who always has a pack of Marlboro menthols on him. Alternatively, when his lungs are feeling extra gross and he decides he wants to quit, he'll start on zyns again (cool mint ofc). There's usually a zyn tower on his bedside table, teetering right beside the glock 47 he most definitely should put in his gun safe but never will, no matter how many times you tell him
"Jason, what if someone comes in and grabs it?"
"No one-"
"What if it falls and goes off?"
"That won't happen."
Before you can get another word his, large hands turn you to face him, practically suffocated you against his chest, one hand on the back of your head while the other dips low and follows the curve of your spine.
"No one in the world is safer than you right now."
Jason who is extremely invested in TLC (specifically 1,000 pound sisters) and never wastes a chance to tell you how shocked and proud he is of Tammy for finally losing weight- even if she's still a bitch
Jason who loves to buy you things. Usually not too crazy, more like stupid little keychains and stuffed animals to build the militia in your room. But he thinks of you all the time and he can picture the look on your face when he comes back with another stupid surprise. Next thing he knows he's got a turtle or dragon or cat stuffed safely in the inside pocket of his jacket while he threatens a few men with his fists.
"They just gave it to me for free." He shrugs, holding a loving grin as he watches you beam over the fuzzy thing in your hands.
But when your face contorts in something accusatory, he holds his breath.
"What?"
"Were you wearing that?" You look over his costume, the Red Hood, the guns hardly concealed on his sides.
"Yea, why?"
"Dude, you robbed them."
Jason who loves to buy you things, who hardly goes out of his way to hide when he comes into some money (obviously by violent means- but who cares when he's gunning down men who sell drugs to kids. Minor casualty). He'd show up with a purse that's ten times your rent, a bracelet the blinds you when it's under direct light, a dress that he knows you have no place fancy enough to wear it to. If you start to ask questions, he'll distract by any means necessary, like standing behind you to slowly untie your sweatpants or unbutton your jeans, inch off your clothing and let his fingertips dip low so you can really feel the old callouses and scars he knows you love so much, before carefully dressing you in whatever nice thing he'd bought.
******i hardly proofread this sos sorry for the typos if they're there lol lmk if i should make more
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suiana · 5 months
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Hiiii! I discovered your blog recently and I’m loving it!!!!  
Can I request a yandere who’s your younger brother best friend? (you’re both adults ofc)
He always had a crush on you but you always brush it off as some innocent little crush until your parents and your brother went on vacations (you couldn’t go cause you had to work) and he offered to stay with you so you wouldn’t be alone. And in the middle of the night he gets in bed with you while you’re sleeping and touches you
I'm sorry if this too specific 😅
(yandere younger brother's best friend x gn! reader) (cw: implied nsfw+stealing+drugging+slight somno, yandere stuff, manipulation)
you know the weird feeling you get in your gut whenever you sense something off?
yeah, you're currently feeling it.
and it's weird because... you're home alone. well not alone, your younger brother and his best friend are home.
but they're playing some game, holed up in his room so technically you're alone. so why are you feeling a sense of dread? did you leave the stove on? did you forget to submit some assignment? were you going to get killed?
...
nah, that can't be it.
you must just be overthinking. everything's fine after all.
maybe you're just tired. what you need is sleep.
so that's what you did, you turned off the television, walked to your room, got in bed, and went to sleep.
but when you woke up a few hours later, the feeling of anxiety only increased.
you woke up in cold sweat, shivering in your bed as you looked around. nothing was off, nothing at all. but why was your body on high alert? why?
your eyes took in every crevice of your room, trying to see if there was an intruder of sorts. nothing. wait, were those a pair of eyes in your closet? no way.
you blink several times and they were gone.
...maybe you need a drink. yeah, a drink.
you got out of bed, hand clutching your phone as you walked to the kitchen. pouring yourself a glass of water, you nervously scrolled tiktok to ease your nerves. but it didn't work. if anything, it only served as a reminder of how quiet the house was, even with the presence of two other guys-
what was that?
nervously turning around, your eyes were wide open as you prepared for the worst. that sounded like glass breaking! what if someone broke in- oh, it was just your younger brother's best friend...
you immediately let out a sigh of relief, not even bothering to notice how his hands were clenching around something that look oddly like your underwear and how his cheeks were flushed way too red for this cold weather.
"you scared me."
you laugh, drinking your glass of water as your brother's best friend chuckles awkwardly in response. well, at least the weird feeling in your stomach seemed to disappear. not totally but it wasn't as present as it once was.
"uh, sorry about that. just wanted to stretch my legs."
he stuffs his hand into the pocket of his hoodie, looking away from your face as he chews on his bottom lip. you smile at his response, shaking your head slightly as you walk back to your room. he was always awkward around you. this behavior was normal.
"yeah, don't worry about it! remember to tell my brother to drink some water, yeah? you too!"
you remind with a slight grin before patting him lightly on the shoulder. he flinches at the contact before calming down. huh, was he on edge too? he never flinches... especially when you touch him. weird.
whatever, maybe he was feeling extra paranoid today too. you soon got back into bed, laughing at your paranoia as he weird feeling in your stomach seems to gradually disappear.
and you even managed to fall asleep not too long after! how amazing!
and irritatingly convenient. it's almost like you were considerate for him and his obsession with you.
he soon slips back into your room, crouching beside your bed as he stares intently at your figure. his cheeks are flushed as he gently strokes your cheek with shivering fingers.
ah, you were so adorable when you got all scared and worked up. and he even got a front row seat to your fear through the gap of your cupboard! shit, do you know how hard he had to hold himself back from moaning out loud at the sight?
but it doesn't matter anymore. not when you were fast asleep.
god you looked so sweet like this, all passed out and vulnerable...
it was a little hard to get your brother to drink the intoxicated drink but the fact that he got to see this... ah, it was so damn worth it.
his hands trail down to your pretty lips, playing with them before he stops. his head drops as he lets out a soft sigh. his pants were painfully tight right now...
he then looks back at you, chewing on his bottom lip. you... wouldn't mind, right? he wouldn't be doing anything to you so... he's just doing it beside you!
if anything, it should be fine because you two would be dating soon anyways! it's fine... at least it's what he tells himself.
it's fine.
he repeats as his hand goes to undo his belt.
it's fine.
he mutters as his hand clutches your bed sheets.
it's fine.
he moans as he strokes your face.
yeah, of course it would be fine. you were meant to be his after all. he was just doing what any boyfriend would do when their significant other turns them on!
but it wasn't enough.
he shouldn't do more. he knows it. but... he can't help himself. he'll just touch your cute face a bit more... and stain your sheets a weird white...
and he's sorry that he's doing it but you were just so pretty! if anything... it's your fault! how dare you tempt him even in your sleep.
don't worry, it's not like you'll remember his touches when you wake up... plus, he didn't even do anything too drastic so... it's not that bad, right?
as long as you didn't suspect him, everything would be fine.
so just don't think too much and... don't listen to your gut, okay?
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gatorbites-imagines · 6 months
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Kinktober day 16
Jason Todd + leather or Latex
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I had like, no ideas what to do with this prompt ngl, so I just kinda went with whatever came to me when writing.
Crime lord Red Hood has always had a special place in my heart
Kinktober 2023 masterlist.
Working for The Red Hood wasn’t too bad, especially compared to the other rogues you’d had to work for in the past. With Hood you didn’t have to fear suddenly being shot because Two-face suddenly felt like it, or being eaten by whatever plants Ivy had conjured up, or answering whatever riddles the Riddler came up with that day.
Best part was probably the uniform though. All rogues put their people in specific clothes. For the joker it was clown masks and all that junk, Riddler wanted you in stuff with question mark print, penguin wanted you well dressed in suit and tie, the list went on. For Hood just wearing red seemed to be enough. Most seemed to just resort to wearing a red hoodie under their jacket, and that was enough.
Interestingly enough, working for Hood also came with some benefits, like being allowed to keep stuff from different conflicts as long as it didn’t cause issues for Hood. That was where you found your first leather, some rich guy from Metropolis tried to set up in Gotham and was quickly dealt with. If Gotham hated anyone more than each other, it was outsiders trying to barge in and make a name for themselves.
The guy had been wearing a sturdy but not too flashy leather jacket, so after checking the pockets and for bullet holes and seeing it in one piece, you tucked it over your arm and brought it home. You had to cut the tags out and changed the inner fabric to something cheaper, and most importantly, into something red, but the quality was no lie.
You realized you might have had a thing for Leather one night when you had needed to go out for some small run for Hood, and you’d been too tired and lazy to put on a shirt. You ended up going out in a pair of low waisted denim pants, some well worn boots, and your jacket. No one batted an eye, at all, seeing a shirtless guy was far from the weirdest shit in Gotham, but the feel of leather on your skin seemed to have lit something inside you.
After that you might have subconsciously started looking for the stuff whenever you went on raids or into fights for Hood and his territory. Who cared if you stole some hotshot from star cities leather west and hat, or that guy from Texas whose black leather boots you stole right off his feet. You didn’t touch the pants though, even though you really really wanted too, you just didn’t trust them not to be contaminated by all kinds of junk.
You honestly thought you hid it pretty well, your draw to leather that is. Everyone had their thing, and you always wearing your jacket and boots was just something you did. If you went home to get dressed all the way down to just your jacket and boots though to jerk off was another thing entirely.
But it seemed your draw to the last targets pants hadn’t gone fully unnoticed by your boss. Imagine your surprise when he shoved a package into your arms one night and told you to only check it when you got home, the modulator of his helmet making him seem way more serious than he probably was.
You wouldn’t say you were outright friends with Hood, no one could really be friends with their boss in the criminal world, but you cracked jokes with the guy and even got him to laugh on the regular. You patched him up when he needed it, and he dragged you to Leslie’s clinic when you got knocked around a bit too hard, which happened more than you liked to admit.
When you got home you had almost assumed that the package would hold weapons or maybe even drugs, even though Hood didn’t personally deal the stuff. But instead, you found what you immediately noticed was leather, a card placed on top of the neatly folded leather. The letter was in Hoods writing, and you felt your face heat up a tad at the words on the page.
“Next time just let me buy it for you instead of stealing it off bodies” it said, and when you unfolded the leather, you felt your insides flutter. It was pants, they seemed even better quality than the ones you had been eying the night before. But it wasn’t just pants, there was a newer jacket, it was brown and heavy and was very well worn, and when you held it out in front of you, you could see it was one of Hoods own jackets.
You could feel blood running downwards, leaving you fumbling with your clothes as you got undressed, feeling almost desperate to pull the pants up your legs and hips. They were tight, but not too tight, and there was no question about the quality. Your original jacket fell to the ground with a heavy thud, your fingers quickly grabbing the heavy well-loved leather of the brown jacket and pulling it on, a shaky breath leaving you as the smell that was so clearly Hood filled your senses.
It smelled like leather, gun oil, the cigarettes he smoked when he was annoyed or on edge, and something undeniably Hood, and it had you tenting your new pants. Or tenting as well as one could in leather, which meant it was more a visible bulge running down the inside of your thigh. It had felt so good on your skin that you had found yourself grinding against your hand on your couch like some inexperienced fool. Your back had arched off the couch as you stained the inside of your pants, the leather growing slick against you as you groaned.
It was only later when cleaning the leather that you noticed the writing in the waistband, near the back so it would sit near the bottom of your spine. “Red Hood” it said, like some kind of statement of ownership, and you had shivered and exhaled shakily, rubbing a hand over your face to dispel the thoughts it awoke in your body.
Next time you saw Hood you had worn the pants, but the jacket was left at home. The worn jacket didn’t go well with the newer shinier leather of the pants, so it was your normal jacket and boots, which had some of your friends joke a bit about you being some kind of leather daddy because of your interest in the stuff. You had let the jokes run off your back, joking along every now and then.
You hadn’t even noticed Hood being there until he had appeared behind you, his gloved hand grabbing your ass and giving it a squeeze. Youd almost snapped around and decked him, assuming it was someone else, that was until you heard his modulated voice. “You’re wearing my gift. You like it?” he purred obviously enough that you could hear it even through the voice changer.
You could feel your skin growing clammy as you gave a small nod, not even daring to look at hood as he pressed his crotch against your back, his erection obvious even through all your shared layers. “Good, you look so hot in it” he rumbled, giving your thighs an extra squeeze before he stepped back and wandered off, leaving you unsteady on your feet as you tried to force the obvious hard shape in your pants away, for once cursing how tight they were.
It continued on this way for a while, Hood leaving you presents, and you would wear them around his headquarters. It was never expensive or high quality enough for anyone to target you, but Hood seemed to enjoy it very much. It felt almost like having a sugar daddy or some kind, but he had never demanded much sugar, only grabbing your ass at times, or rubbing his hands up and down your torso that time you’d worn a leather shirt under your jacket.
He was a tease, and you could hear the shit eating grin through his helmet as you ground against his thick thigh one day. You felt so wound up from his lingering touches that you had found yourself in his office one day, or what you guys called his office anyways. Maybe you wanted a fight of some kind, you weren’t sure, but one thing led to another, and you pinned up against the wall, his thigh between your own.
And now you were grinding against his thigh like some kind of pervert, your fingers digging into the worn leather of his jacket as you gasped into his shoulder. You didn’t even notice as he pulled off his gloves or spat on his fingers, it was only when one of his hands was shoved down the back of your leather pants and between your cheeks that you realised. A groan left you as he rubbed the pad of his finger against your pucker, his voice cocky as he asked if this was what you wanted.
You tried to glare at him, but it only seemed to fuel him more as Hood pushed his finger inside, letting you adjust before he started moving to the best of his ability, your tight pants not leaving much room to move his wrist. The stimulation was driving you crazy, the tight leather of your pants doing nothing to lessen the experience as you ground forwards into his thigh, before you pushed back onto his hand.
Running your hands down his torso and up his shirt, you could keep the moan from leaving you as you felt something too smooth and slick to be leather. It was Latex, he was wearing a latex shirt under everything else, maybe it was even a full body thing as it continued as you thumbed at the waistband of his pants.
Your exploring just seemed to fuel him more as Hood added not just a second but a third finger at the same time, letting you just barely adjust to the stretch before he started moving his hand once more, causing you to grind harder against his thigh.
It was impossible to fight back the orgasm that rocked through you, thoroughly slicking up the crotch area of your leather pants as there was no fabric to soak it up, letting it splatter against your thighs and lower body. You could feel yourself twitch a bit as Hood removed his fingers, instead grabbing onto your hips and lifting you up, making your legs wrap around his waist.
You couldn’t find it in yourself to ask what he was up too as he walked backwards, plopping down on his chair with you in his lap, sighing softly as he started rubbing his hands up your torso, flicking your chest through the leather shirt you had chosen to wear. “You alright baby?” he asked, voice warm and caring, leaving you feeling all types of mushy.
You just scoffed and leaned forwards, resting against his broad shoulders and coiling your arms around him. Hood rubbed your back for a while before rolling his chair close to his desk, the taping of keys letting you know he was working on one thing or the other. In the end you found yourself with both your hands up his shirt, rubbing at his latex covered torso as you rocked lazily against his thigh, no hurry in your movements as you knew you had all night, and it would happen soon if the twitching bulge between Hoods thighs meant anything.
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cyberchronics · 4 months
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.・。.・゜✭・.・✫..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
jjk is infecting me. (bit of a longer one... strap in!)
stalker mahito + getting caught
✶ dubcon? both ways, yandere stuff, implied drugging ✶
★ yandere sub mahito, mean dom reader, breaking in, degrading, spitting, choking, biting, kneejob?, slapping ★
✩∘₊ ✩*✯☆⃟⃟⃟✯*✩₊∘✩
mahito's been stalking you for as long as he can remember. making sure no one bothers you on your daily commute and always being nearby when you're shopping so he can leave anything that's been forgotten on your doorstep.
you've got a date? oh, sweetheart. don't you know he's the only one for you? that's okay, just don't be surprised when yet another dinner falls through without so much as a text. hey, it's not his fault he sees red when anyone else even thinks about getting close to you!
on the other hand, you've had your eye on him for a while. mahito's blue hair seems to stick out in every crowd you walk through. whether it be going to and from work or going out for groceries he's never too far away, itching nervously as if he's tweaking for a fix of... who knows what?
mahito wishes you knew the only drug he could ever want is you.
∘₊ ✧───────────────────✧₊∘
Whenever Mahito visits you, he likes to make up a different scenario. This time it's date night. He's spent hours getting ready for you, pinning his hair up into a neat bun and wearing the nicest outfit he owns, but you never showed up to the restaurant :( Guess he'll have to check on you like a good boyfriend.
He stands at your window, fishing the makeshift key he's crafted specifically for this situation out of his pocket. The movement is virtually muscle memory alone at this point as he breaks the lock, crawls into your room, and closes it back. "Sweetheart, you stood me up again..." Mahito whispers, walking towards your dozing form and brushing your hair away to reveal the gorgeous face that he's come to see.
Using caution is nowhere near what he's concerned about. Not when he's made sure you'll be sleeping like a log tonight. "But... I guess I can forgive you this once. You do need your beauty rest." Soft hands slowly reach out and cup your cheek, relishing in the warmth that radiates off
There's no hesitation when he grabs your hand, nuzzling his face against it before leaning down to kiss your knuckles. "Letting someone like me do whatever I want with you..." His thumb strokes your hand lovingly as he speaks to the dead air. "You're so silly, darling."
To his... delight? horror? He can barely tell the difference, he feels you twitch under his touch a second before your eyes shoot open. Mahito immediately freezes, eyes wide and mouth dry. There's no way out of this, and even if there was his brain is shutting down. He's so fucked.
A squeal of surprise slips past shiny lips as you immediately react. His body is slammed against the floor, firm arms pinning him down. He can barely contain his excitement as anger and disgust flairs up within those pretty eyes he's been wishing would focus on him for the longest time. Delight, Mahito decides with certainty, feeling the tension rise in the decorated bedroom. This is the most delightful thing he's ever experienced.
"Are you getting off on this?" If that fact wasn't apparent before, it was crystal clear now. A red blush is dusted across his skin, a small tent starting to form at the crotch of black pants. Before he can even get out a response a hand drifts up and squeezes his neck hard, choking him with ferver. "Fucking pervert. What the hell is wrong with you?"
Mahito loves how vulnerable you are like this. Pretty voice still raspy from sleep, hatred painted clearly across the face he's spent months admiring as if you're really gonna kill him here. That wouldn't be so bad.... would it? In fact, the idea of dying at the hands of the person he loves is almost too romantic for his heart to take. "Open."
It takes a second for it to click before he eagerly opens his mouth and sticks out his tongue. He moans when you spit in his mouth, long and drawn out as he finally gets the smallest taste of you. Mahito is floating on cloud nine, lightheaded from the lack of oxygen and committing himself to memorizing your flavor before he wakes up from this dream.
Before he can land on a single conclusion, a firm force presses against his erection, hands easing up on his neck as your focus shifts. Mahito whimpers as your knee rubs his cock up and down, making it twitch like crazy as his eyes are blown wide. By the time you're sinking your teeth into his neck, he's blabbering uselessly with his eyes rolled back. "Thank you, darling. I-I love you."
He wheezes out in between noises of sheer pleasure, receiving a sharp slap that stings his cheek in response. The impact is the only thing he needs to go tumbling over the edge, staining his pants with hot white cum and punctuating it with an erotic moan.
He's barely given a second to recover when you stand up, seemingly going back to bed for the night. "Now get the hell out. Don't let me catch you here again." Mahito nods, scrambling to get up and adjust his clothes before running out of the house. Once alone he smiles, slumping down in a nearby alleyway to calm down and checking the new additions to the various markings littering his body.
There's no way in hell he's not coming back tomorrow.
part 2?
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
a/n: side note but i absolutely adore mahito's dub voice ♥︎ i can def see him being whiny n bratty (maybe in pt 2?) but wanted to focus on his masochism for this ⠒̫⃝
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from-the-clouds · 1 year
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bad liars (savior complex ii) - joel miller x f!reader
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part one | masterlist | song inspo |
Baby, you're a vampire You want blood and I promised...
summary: It's been a month since Joel has last seen you, fully healed since your last interaction. But you haven't spoken...at all. Your radio silence becomes cause for concern when he hears about an outbreak of Infected at the hospital where you work. There's enough explanation in this part that you could read it on it's own, probably, but I'd highly recommend reading part one first to get the full experience. pairing: joel miller x f!reader words: 7.9k warnings: SMUT - 18+ ONLY, minors DNI. (porn w/ plot, unprotected sex, oral, rough sex, dirty talk, praise kink, age gap. dom/sub dynamics.) Heavy angst, multiple POVs, implied drug abuse, alcohol use, canon-typical suffering! Blood mention. Both reader/Joel are insanely emotionally unavailable, and love to lie to themselves and each other! (please dm for specifics if you have any questions). a/n: Ya'll loved savior complex and I'm so happy! Literally don't think I've had a fic get that many notes before, i had so many requests for a part two and because it felt like i left things open-ended enough, this came to me pretty easily! It might be the horniest thing I've ever written and also very angsty (what's new?)....but I think you'll like the ending <3 Special to @ay0nha for letting me yell at you about my writing and to @zbeez-outlet for the wonderful idea.
Joel exhales and runs his fingers through his salt-and-pepper hair – the tips of which were frozen together from standing outside for so long. It had gotten cold out. Very cold. Boston always did this time of year, and because of it, people stayed in, and crime in the QZ dropped, making it a safer place - though that wasn’t saying much. 
Of course, the cold didn’t stop him from dealing. It did make his job a hell of a lot more difficult, since FEDRA was bored, out looking for trouble, and didn’t have more pressing matters to attend to. Although today, he must’ve been in luck, because the only sign of FEDRA had been helicopters and tanks that were clearly on a mission, driving to the opposite side of the QZ. Good, he had thought. A distraction. 
Joel leans back against the brick wall of the alleyway, pulling the hood of his jacket up over his ears, stares at the ice in the cracks of the pavement. When he hears the crunch of gravel underfoot, he straightens.
The man approaching looks nervously over his shoulder, hands shoved deep in the pockets of his flimsy sweatshirt. Dave, a customer of his for some time. 
“You’re late,” Joel doesn’t bother with a proper greeting.
“I know, I know, I got held up on my way here,” Dave answers, immediately beginning his excuse. “They cleared out the hospital because of an outbreak, that whole area was locked down so I had to take the long way.”
“Outbreak?” Joel tilts his head.
“Infected. I guess a bunch of hospital staff got bit. FEDRA had to go in and put them all down.” 
Joel feels a distant pang of concern somewhere in the back of his head. “How many?”
Dave shrugs, scratching the back of his neck. “I don’t know, man, that’s all I know. It’s not like they’ll ever tell anyone what actually happened.”
Joel can’t help but think of you. He knows a couple people who work at the hospital, most of them through smuggling, but you’re the only one who he’s really able to bring to mind at the moment.
“So, can we, uh…”
Joel pulls the plastic baggie out from his pockets, fishing out the pills. On his end, Dave produces a wad of credits, his shoulders sagging in relief once they’ve made the trade and the drugs are in his hand. He takes one immediately, shoves the rest in his pocket. “Thanks man, I’ll see you next week?”
Leaning back against the wall, he nods, and watches his customer disappear down the alleyway. 
The second Dave is out of sight, Joel’s chest tightens, and he takes a deep breath. There’s no reason why news of Infected at the hospital should concern him. If FEDRA had been called in – they would’ve gunned down anything that moved until it was under control. He knew, better than anyone, that they would do unspeakable things in the name of keeping order. Innocent people probably died, but the dead can’t get infected.
It had been about a month since Joel had last seen you, after he’d gotten beaten within an inch of his life and ended up on your doorstep, and you were the only person that could help. It hadn’t gone at all how he expected it would – at the end of the day, he had been surprised by your tenderness. 
Still, despite that you’d let him take you on the edge of your bed, legs wrapped around him, bouncing on his cock, he wouldn’t really say that it changed anything about your relationship. He had actually been kind of afraid that it would, that your attitude towards him would shift to something more amicable.
But you hadn’t spoken to him in a month. Joel had told you he owed you one after you stitched him up, and had anticipated that you’d take him up on his offer pretty quickly. There were so many things he could do for you to make your situation better. Maybe you’d need credits…. Medicine…. Food…. Booze… Pills, something, but you haven’t reached out. You could just be biding your time until you really need the favor.
Still, the radio silence takes him aback. He should be relieved that you aren’t talking to him. But nothing? Even if it’s not about a favor…he wants some kind of confirmation that you’d both made a mistake. After all that, did you really expect nothing from him?
It dawns on him there’s now a chance you’ll never speak to him again, because you’re one of the ones that FEDRA killed. Or worse….you had gotten bit. 
Joel passes by the hospital, taking the long way home. Everything is locked down, taped off. There’s a crowd around the place – family members, he assumes, pleading with FEDRA agents for information and getting nothing in return.
“Go home. I’m sure they’ll turn up,” he hears one of them say to a weeping woman. It’s useless to ask for an honest answer, for one of them to actually care. 
Joel could go home. He could crush a couple pills, snort them, and quell the burn with a couple drinks. He could fall into restless sleep and wake up the next day as he always did, go about his business as usual. Survive. One day at a time. 
Would he ever get confirmation that you’re alive? Because at this rate, he’s not sure he’ll ever know either way. 
The feeling is going to linger. He hates it. Were you gone? If you are, he can handle knowing. Its somehow worse not to. 
He tries to justify it to himself. You’re one of his solid connections to the hospital, you’d traded with him for medical supplies before. This is business, really, if he thinks about it that way. If you’re dead, he and Tess need to find someone else to work with. 
Joel decides to take a detour on the way back to his place.
It’s past curfew when he arrives at your apartment, the sun has long since dipped below the horizon and with that comes an even harsher cold. Boston winters, he thinks to himself. If he is capable of missing anything, he’d say he missed Texas. Before all this, the last place he’d be caught dead was on the East Coast. 
Joel raps on your front door. He forgets how shitty your building is, that you sleep here alone every night, listening to your neighbors arguing through the thin walls, shady characters slinking out of shadows in the dimly-lit hallway,
A few seconds pass. When he hears nothing behind your door, he knocks again, a little louder. 
More time passes. He knocks again, louder. Maybe you didn’t hear him. 
Nothing. He does it again. Could you be asleep? His jaw clenches.
Still nothing, and Joel knocks even louder. Maybe you’re not even here, and you work nights, and he’s just missed you as you head out for another shift. But he knows that’s unlikely. Since he’s known you, you’ve never worked nights. So where the fuck were you?
Joel’s pounds on your door, yells your name into its chipping paint. He listens for something, anything, on the other side, and there’s nothing, absolutely nothing, but he keeps going The side of his fist starts to hurt, but he can’t stop himself. He doesn’t even realize what he’s doing until he hears one of your neighbors yelling from the end of the hallway. 
‘Shut the fuck up!’
Joel doesn’t hear exactly where the voice comes from, but it’s enough to snap him out of it. He halts his movements, his forehead falling against hollow wood, and in the silence, hears his heart pounding in his ears. 
“Fuck!” he kicks the wall just outside the frame of your door so hard the drywall gives, leaving a hole behind. “Fuck.”
He stares at the result of his outburst for an undetermined amount of time. You were all alone. To his knowledge, you had no immediate family to inform. Who would be around to remember you? He’d never really know for sure what had happened. 
“Joel?”
He looks up, his hands still clenched tightly into fists. When he sees that it’s you, standing at the end of the hallway, they loosen. 
You look horrible - haggard, tired, your hair tangled and matted. As you move closer to him, he doesn’t miss the way your shoulders are hunched underneath the weight of your backpack. But once you’re standing in front of him, you straighten, lift your chin. 
“What is this?” you ask. “What are you doing here?”
There’s no animosity in your tone, he thinks. You might be trying to put some in there, but you don’t have the energy to do so, so it just comes out sounding very flat.
Joel realizes, suddenly, that he doesn’t have a reason. A real reason that wouldn’t….give him away. He puts his hands on his hips, thinks desperately. You do nothing to help.
When he settles in silence, offers you nothing, you just sigh and shake your head. Your teeth are chattering, lips cracked from the cold, and you seem desperate to get into shelter, twisting your key into your lock and opening the front door. Once you step inside, you flick on the lights. He follows you, closes the door behind you both, and locks it.
“Oh, yeah, come on in, I guess,” you say over your shoulder. 
Joel crosses his arms, standing in your kitchen. 
“What, am I in trouble or something?” you ask. “Because if I am, you’re gonna have to wait until I’ve showered.”
“It can wait,” Joel says, and sits at one of your kitchen chairs. 
You shrug off of your backpack and leave it on a chair, then unbutton your coat, tossing it on top. Joel swallows hard when he sees the damage it’s been hiding. Your scrubs are dirty, tattered in some places, one of the sleeves hanging, partially ripped off. And they’re covered in dried blood. It’s smeared on your arms, on the back of your neck. Not yours, he hopes. 
What the fuck happened to you? You don’t turn to see his reaction, don’t look over your shoulder to see if he’s going to ask about it. It’s almost like he’s not even there, and you clearly wish he isn’t. 
He realizes then, that he has the confirmation he’s looking for. You made it out alive. He doesn’t actually need anything else from you. And you’ve given him a perfect out. He can leave while you’re in the shower. 
But he doesn’t. Not when he hears the shower start, or the screech of the curtain across the metal rod, the sound of water hitting the basin. He stays there, motionless, until you duck out of the bathroom with your arms wrapped around yourself, wearing a sweatshirt and sweatpants, hair damp and teeth chattering. 
You pad with bare feet onto the tiled area of the kitchen, brushing past him. 
“What the fuck happened to you?” he asks. 
You finally look at him, like you’re surprised he spoke up, or even asked the question. A choked, bitter laugh leaves you, and you shift your attention away from him, reaching into your cabinet for a bottle of bourbon. “Pass.”
You pour yourself a whiskey, and Joel watches you throw it back in one go, your nose scrunching up, your hand clasping into a fist as you take the shot. The taste doesn’t stop you from pouring another drink and gulping that one down, too, without as much of a reaction as the first. It’s only when you start pouring the third that he intervenes, standing and crossing the room to cover the glass with his hand before you can grab it. 
“Slow down,” he says.
“I know you’re not telling me what to do in my own home.” Your mouth opens as you look up at him, incredulous. 
Joel looks past you, shakes his head. He supposes your right, but it doesn’t make it any easier to watch the self-destructive behavior, which is funny considering how often he engages in it himself. He gives in, removes his hand from your glass. “At least…pour me one. You shouldn’t drink alone.”
Your expression softens slightly, and he’s able to see all the pain you’re hiding, just for a flash, before you turn to retrieve a second glass from your cabinet. 
Once you hand him the whiskey, he sits in the middle of the tiny loveseat you’ve got in your front room, expecting you to sit in the armchair across from it. Instead, you approach with your own drink, nudge his knee with your own, and Joel slides over to make room so you can fall onto the couch beside him. Much closer than he’d expected. 
It’s surprisingly good bourbon, and he wonders how many times you’d wasted it by downing it like you just had, instead of taking your time, savoring. He waits for you to get settled before he speaks again.
“What happened to you?” he tries once more, a little softer this time. 
There’s some contemplation on your end, you look at him for a moment, then at your glass, then back up at him again. He can almost see you trying to figure out how much you’re going to share, but he wants to know everything.
“There was an accident at the hospital,” you answer, finally. 
Joel slings his arm over the back of the couch, angles his body towards where you’re curled up, legs tucked underneath you. I’m listening.
Your voice stays even, blase. “A guard at the border broke protocol…and someone who was infected was brought in. By the time we realized, it was too late….”
“Were you hurt?” 
“Almost.” you say. “I mean, yes, actually, I’m a little scratched up, but…it’s not as bad as it could’ve been.”
Your teeth start chattering again. Joel wonders if it’s because of the cold, or your nerves. Figures it’s probably both.
“My coworker turned and I uhm….I had to…” you say into your glass, your free hand flexing like it’s trying to shake off some unpleasant muscle memory. “I had no choice.”
“I understand,” For whatever reason, he spares you from telling the story. To him, taking down Infected was nothing. But to you…“What else?” he presses.
You shrug, avoiding his eyes, one of your arms coming to grip at your opposite shoulder. “I can’t really remember. A bunch of people died. FEDRA came in and just started gunning everything down….” you shook your head, and straightened up.
“I heard about that,” Joel offers.
“Wait…you knew about this?”
“Yeah.”
“So then why are you here, asking m-” the rest of your sentence drops off, your lips parted slightly. The look on your face shifts, slowly. Your eyes narrow. Remorse turns into something more neutral, then into curiosity. “Oh my god….you were worried about me.”
“No.”
“Yes, you fucking were,” your lips curl slightly, it’s not quite a smile, but it’s something close to amusement. 
“No,” Joel defends himself. “I wanted to hear what happened from someone–”
“No you didn’t,” you interject, but he raises his voice to finish his thought.
“–who actually works there, not FEDRA’s propaganda.”
“No you did not. You’re checking up on me. You came over here after curfew to see if I was–”
“Enough,” Joel growls with enough conviction that it shuts you up, and he’s grateful, but its not enough to wipe the self-satisfied look on your face, because it doesn’t.
“What are we, like, friends now?”
He doesn’t answer, and slugs back the rest of his whiskey.
“Or would that be too much for you?” You don’t wait long for him to give you an answer, probably because you know he won’t respond. “I mean, if we’re both being honest–” He definitely wasn’t being honest. “–Today was really fucked up.”
You’re leaning forward now, some of the space between you is gone. And though you’re trying to give the impression that you’re unphased by everything, your hand is clenched tightly around your glass, and you avoid his eyes. It’s painful to watch you resist the urge to trust him. Not that he’s ever given you a good enough reason to – he knows he doesn’t deserve it, but he wants it anyways.
“It’s funny…” you say after a while. “I remember thinking that I didn’t want to die. At least… not like that. I’ve never felt that before…That’s something, isn’t it?” you ask him. 
Joel looks at you, and is surprised at the vulnerability in your expression, sees you looking for some kind of validation from him. “....It is.” 
You finish off your drink, and put the empty glass on the coffee table, shift closer to him.
“It looks like you healed up okay,” you say, after a spell. “How’s your shoulder?”
“A little sore, nothing I can’t handle.”
“Did you take those antibiotics?”
“Yes.”
“Good. And I can’t even tell you had a black eye.”
“I’m fine,” Joel asserts. 
Another shiver wracks your body, and he can tell this one is actually from the chill – your apartment is cold as fuck, it even is starting to bother him. 
“Don’t you have a heater?”
“Kinda,” you glance over at the radiator in the corner. “Sometimes it works.”
“What do you do when it’s colder than this?” It was only November, things would only get worse. 
You shrug. “I don’t know….just be colder, I guess.”
Joel imagines you curled up in your bed alone, wrapped in a thin comforter, shaking in front of him like you are now. He winces. 
“How long are you going to stay?” you ask, changing the subject.
“I should probably go now.”
You nod, scoot closer. “But maybe…” you trail off, contemplating. 
Joel sits up straighter, prompting you when you don’t speak again. “Maybe what?”
“Maybe you could stick around for a little while longer.” There’s a warm hand, yours, that lands on his thigh, and he recoils like you’ve touched him with a fire iron. He rises to his feet. 
“Hey,” you stand along with him, step in front of him to block the pathway to the door. He could easily get past you, obviously, but it’s not as simple as that. 
Of course he’s fucking thought about what happened the last time he was here – his arms around your waist, his mouth on your neck, your chest, your hands on his shoulders, whining his name. A freak accident, a glitch in the matrix, a statistically improbable thing. 
“What?” he asks as you step forward, the fingers on your free hand sliding into the belt loops of his pants. He feels blood rush to his cheeks, to other places. And you’re still fucking shivering. You look so fucking miserable, he wants to yell at you to put on a coat, to wrap yourself in a blanket, in his arms. 
“Joel,” you say his name softly, tilting your head up, leaning close. And then your hand is on the side of his face, and he realizes you’re fucking pleading with him. He knows what you want, but he has a feeling this isn’t just about sex. You’re looking for comfort, as if he’s capable of giving it. 
“We made a mistake…once,” he tells you. “We’re not going to make it again.”
He says it to hurt you, but it doesn’t work. It’s like you knew it was coming all along. “I knew what I was doing,” you answer, earnest. “Didn’t you?”
Yes. You glance down at his hands, which are squeezed into fists so tightly, his knuckles are white. If he’s not rigid, he’s not sure how he’ll be able to resist. He wants you. God, he wants you. He never thought he’d be able to have you again. 
“I could help you loosen up.”
Joel’s walking on the edge of a one-thousand foot cliff and hoping his foot slips. He wants to surrender. The only thing he thinks might save him is to say the meanest thing he can. Maybe you’d get turned off.
“Listen to yourself,” he says, finding the strength to meet your eyes. “You want me so bad, you sound pathetic.”
“Asshole,” you step closer, your mouth twitches, your lips are inches apart. “Do you think I care what you think about me?”
Joel realizes his plan has backfired. But he really only has himself to blame, he should’ve known better. With you, he’s never in as much control as he wants to be, and deep down, he likes it. 
“Go lie down on the bed.”
It’s the only thing that seems to shock you. “What?” 
“I won’t ask you again,” Joel steps backwards, crosses his arms. “Go lie down.” 
──────
If you told yourself a couple months ago that one day you’d find yourself pinned down by Joel Miller, you’d think it’d be because he was about to kill you. Maybe because you cheated him out of something, maybe because you did something else to piss him off – it didn’t really matter. Regardless of how fucked up it was, that idea would seem more dignified than what was happening now. 
Your back is being pressed deeper into the lumpy old mattress, and he’s on you. His mouth is warm, hot, wet, and dragging down your neck, nipping, sucking, licking. Your hands are itching to reach out, to skate down his torso, trace along his jawline, tug at his hair, but you can’t because he’s got them pinned above you with only one of his own. Anytime you try to fight him, his grip only grows stronger. 
It was shameful, really, but you had asked for this – begged for it, basically. There were a number of reasons why – one of which was to blow off some steam after a near death experience, the other because you’d fucked him before and it had been good, much to your dismay. There was also a third reason that you weren’t interested in acknowledging now. 
After the night Joel had gotten jumped, and you’d taken care of him, everything has changed. It’s a cliche, but true. You’d known what you were doing when it happened, and had no regrets. But it was probably not supposed to happen again, and you tried to keep it that way, more for his sake than anyone else’s. But….he was the one who showed up tonight after he’d heard what had happened. It wasn’t nothing.
Joel pulls away from you so abruptly that you gasp, shivering in the wake of his impossible warmth. 
“Sit up,” he instructs, and you turn to find him at the end of the bed, arms crossed. 
You obey, mostly just for the view. You hope to admire him, fresh from kissing you – flush skin, wet lips, tousled hair. Only he’s frustratingly stoic, unsullied – like he hadn’t been touching you at all. 
“Look at me,” he says, and you do. 
“This doesn’t mean anything.”
“It’s nothing,” you agree. 
“I won’t be gentle.”
“I don’t want you to be gentle.”
“Good,” you watch his shoulders loosen, just a little, and he takes one step backwards, his eyes tracing down your body and then back up. “Strip for me….” 
You aren’t dressed sexy at all, you remember, a sweatshirt and sweatpants. If you had thought this through a little more, you might’ve tried to make it nicer for him. “....Okay.”
“Start with your shirt,” he says, and you grab at the hem, but he snaps at you. “Ah-ah….slower.”
You swallow, nod, and carefully lift the fabric, dragging it up over your stomach, over the swell of your breasts, revealing your tight, thin white tank top. 
“That’s it, nice and slow.” 
Joel’s voice is soft but stern, a low rasp that makes your cunt clench around nothing, and he’s not even touching you. The sweatshirt is pulled over your head, falling somewhere on the crumpled bedspread. 
Languidly, you lean back, shifting your weight to get off the mattress, and Joel palms himself through his jeans. You can see where he’s straining against the denim, and you find it hard to tear your gaze away as you go to pull off your sweatpants. Joel stops you again. 
“Turn around.”
You do, and you’re sure he has a nice view of your ass as you slide them over your hips, bending over to let the fleece pool around your ankles. Slowly, you rise back up, looking at him over your shoulder for approval. 
“Good girl,” he murmurs. Your stomach flips. A month ago, you would’ve done anything to get him to stay away from you, and now, you’re terrified to disappoint him. 
That’s the problem. You’d spent most of the day fighting for your life — literally. But even after standing behind a barricade of heavily-armed FEDRA soldiers outside the hospital, you didn’t feel as safe as you did when you saw Joel at your door. You need him. For now, at least.
“Now the shirt,” he tilts his head towards the mattress, nodding encouragingly.
You get back on the bed, sitting back on your heels, and begin to pull the tank top up. It’s your last layer up top, you’re not wearing a bra, and you’re feeling a little vulnerable with him just watching you, fully clothed and composed, your gaze falling down to look at the threadbare linens. 
“Eyes up,” he instructs. “Look at me.”
Taking in a shaky inhale, you do. It’s not easy. Everything about him looks dark, animalistic. A coiled ball of energy, waiting to pounce.
But, even when you’re bare before him, he doesn’t. 
“Lie back, close your eyes.”
Of course, you don’t refuse, settling your head against the pillows. 
There’s a sound of a belt – his belt, unbuckling, the snap of a button, the dip of the bed where he kneels when he comes to hover over you. Two hands land on top of your thighs, pressing the backs against his denim-clad knees, thumbs pushing your legs further apart. 
And then…nothing. He’s still. He’s still for so long, that you actually think that something’s wrong. When you open your eyes, you’re met with a view of the underside of his jaw. You can just make out the pinched expression he’s wearing as he looks down upon you. Disdain, maybe…but it’s not meant for you, it’s for someone else….him.
“Joel,” you murmur. Instinctually, you reach for his hand.
The second it makes contact, he smacks your hand away so hard your whole body jolts. “I told you to close your eyes.”
“Sorry,” you mumble quickly, closing them again. 
You are well aware that he’s actively working through shit, probably doing some kind of mental gymnastics to rationalize why it’s okay to fuck you again, which, when you really think about it is kind of….pathetic. It’s the only thing that makes you feel any sort of power in a situation where you’ll surrender everything else. It’s a fair exchange. 
Maybe, on a different day, you would want it softer. You’d like to think he’s capable of that, even though he seems determined he isn’t. Luckily, you don’t want it softer. After today, you want to be so far gone you can’t think. 
Joel answers by leaning down and catching you in a bruising kiss. Finally. You press yourself against him cause you’re freezing and he’s so warm, and you frantically begin to unbutton the flannel he’s wearing, making it about halfway down before he pins your hands above you again.
“Slow down.”
You whine, a little frustrated because all you want to do is touch him. The fingers on his free hand hook around the elastic of your underwear, and he starts to drag them over the curve of your ass. 
He’s got to be joking with how deliberately he’s moving, anticipation only building underneath his featherlight touches.
When he’s got your panties around your ankles, you slide your legs together so he can pull them off entirely, keeping them closed as his weight shifts, and your thighs are pulled back apart.
“You’re already so wet for me,” he doesn’t need to feel you to see it clear as day, with you spread open in front of him. “So fucking desperate.”
He’s all-but glaring at you, like you’ve done something wrong, and for a minute, your eyes flick away, just for a second of relief from the tension.
“What, are you embarrassed?” he asks. 
“N-no,” you stammer, though it was supposed to sound confident. 
Thankfully, he doesn’t press you, his head dipping down to press his lips to your knee, then an inch higher, then an inch higher, then higher – keeping his eyes locked on yours the whole time, an arm winding around your thigh.
“I wanted to do this last time.” A confession. 
“Yeah?” you sigh, trembling. It’s maybe the nicest thing he’s said to you, but you can’t even acknowledge it, because you’re buzzing.
He turns his face, his beard scraping along sensitive skin. “Mhm,” his deep rasp vibrates directly to your cunt, and when his head dips down, you close your eyes – it might just be better to focus on only one sensation at a time, you’re not sure you can handle seeing what he’s about to do.
Joel’s mouth is on you the second you do, and you gasp. He licks up the seam of your lips, mouth latching around your clit, swirling with his tongue, and back down – firm, determined, practiced. You try to buck up, but he has an arm locked around your hips. 
He removes himself from you just enough to utter two words. “Stay still.”
You want to protest, but you realize that he’s let go of your hands, and it gives you the opportunity to thread your fingers into his hair, while you dig your heels into the broad expanse of his back, and he groans, tongue curling into you. 
“I’ve thought about this,” you gasp, answering his earlier admission.
“When?”
“At night. More than once.”
“Fuck,” Joel growls, and you wheeze when he works one finger into you, forcing you to take it along with his next words. “You know how fuckin’ bad that is? Dreamin’ about a man nearly twice your age?”
“I d-don’t care, I want you anyway. Y-you can do whatever you want to me,” It’s too early to be past the point of speaking coherently, it really is, but you’re already there. 
“F-fuck,” Joel repeats himself, and pushes another finger inside you next to the first, the stretch almost uncomfortable, but quickly fading to pleasure. “I’m going to.”
You’re not the going to tell him, though, that he’s the first man whose ever gone down on you, because you’re a little fucking scared for some reason. It’s intimate, very intimate, more than you expected. 
The truth is, you weren’t actually very experienced at all. You could count on one hand the number of partners you’d had, and still not use all of your fingers. While some of them were good enough, they all paled in comparison to Joel. There had never been anyone like Joel. 
His fingers curl as his tongue swirls around your clit and you cry out, inhale sharply. Minute by minute, you’re getting wetter and wetter – can hear yourself with each twist of his fingers inside you, bearing down on him. 
“You taste so fuckin’ good,” he grunts, and your eyes flutter open just for a second, just to see his forehead, dark eyes staring back at you, and his hips dipping, rutting against the mattress. God he’s getting himself off to this. As hot as it is, the thought of not getting to feel him inside you causes a rush of anger. 
“F-feels so good,” you’re right there, already, and it’s pitiful.
“I know, baby, I know,” he says. “You’re already so close, aren’t you?”
Instead of answering, you just nod, gasping. Joel works you right up to the precipice, hands tightening in his hair, hips lifting off the bed – and then he slows a little –  just enough – to pull you back off the edge, and you let out a humiliating sob.
“Shhh!” he hisses with his mouth still on you, resuming the steady pace he had going. A little sigh of relief when you feel your release approaching again. He just lost his rhythm for a moment, it was nothing.
Again, he’s got you right there, you’re so close, hips jerking, breathing in short, sharp pants, something molten working its way up your spine. “Joel, that’s it, please I-”
He falters again – just enough. And it’s gone again.
You realize, with dismay, that he knows exactly what he’s doing. He hadn’t lost his rhythm. He’s doing this on purpose. 
If someone asked – not that anyone would – you wouldn’t be able to recall how long he keeps you in that state, being dragged and dangled, but denied the privilege of falling. It’s torture. 
And at first, you try to be patient. You figure he’ll grow tired, desperate, and eventually want to move on. But apparently, he doesn’t want to move on. He’s content to keep you this way for as long as he sees fit, and you can’t handle it any longer. It’s starting to hurt.
“Please, Joel, let me-” you gasp.
“Let you what?” he pulls back from you, frustratingly too soon, once again.
“Let me come, please, I’ll do anything, I’ll be good, please, please-”
“Just a little longer,” he dismisses you.
All you can do is pant and writhe, completely at his mercy. He keeps going like that, and you’ve stopped trying to filter yourself, the sounds he makes as he laves at you are obscene, you can see yourself glistening on his chin, and can feel the sheets damp beneath you. At this point, he’s enjoying this more than you are.
“Joel,” you plead with him again. “It’s too much, I c-can’t. Just, please I really need-”
“You wanna come for me, baby?” he asks. You nod ferociously. 
“Yes, please, please,” 
“You’re so fucking sweet when you beg, you know that? ” he murmurs. “Wish you were like this all the time.”
“Fuck off,” you manage, feeling heat rise to your cheeks. You should do this to me more often. 
Joel chuckles, and it vibrates just right, his fingers curling again and you moan, hands tightening in his hair. He’s focused now, you can tell because the constant stream of filth he’s been whispering has finally stopped. He’s persistent.
You’re unable to stay quiet, continuing to whimper just like that and please don’t stop over and over. And then all at once, every muscle in your body grows tense and you cry out, cunt pulsing around him so tightly that his fingers slow. “There you go, pretty girl, that’s it.” 
You whisper his name as he continues to fuck his fingers into you, riding you through your orgasm and licking up the mess you’ve made. 
At some point in the aftermath, Joel withdraws from you, and you hear the sting of his zipper. It takes a moment, but you’re able to see him through heavily lidded eyes, kneeling in front of you with his shirt unbuttoned all the way, pants around his ankles, jerking himself slowly in his hand. God he’s fucking huge, how had you forgotten about that? He’s a vision, beard still wet with you, looking down, watching your chest rise and fall. In that moment you realize two things. One, even though you’ve already come, you somehow want him even more than you had before, and two, you’ve never wanted to suck a dick so bad in your life. 
So you sit up, crawl towards him, and reach out with one hand to take him in your palm. He lets you, sighing, closing down his eyes. First, you have to kiss him, so you rise to your knees, and he pulls you into his arms, one of them winding around your waist, the other coming to rest at the small of your back. “You take such good care of me,” you whisper. 
He grimaces at the words like they’re an insult. You expect him to retaliate, to tell you that you shouldn’t say that sort of thing, but he never does. So you kiss him, gently, bringing your free hand to the side of his face. Once again, he lets you, and you taste yourself when his tongue presses into you mouth. You run your thumb over the head of his cock, and he hums against your touch, almost contentedly.
You’re doing whatever you want to him, and you’re shocked he hasn’t put a stop to it. It could be satisfying enough, you think, just to keep kissing him like this. Still, you sink back towards the bed to test things further. You’re about to wrap your mouth around him, but he pulls you off by your hair, so quickly, so hard that you yelp.
“No.” he says firmly. “Lie back.”
“But I just wanted to-”  
“No.” 
You consider trying to reason with him, but decide it won’t be worth whatever he’d do if you continue to argue.
Joel braces himself with one hand above your shoulder, the other wrapped around his cock, slowly teasing you by rubbing himself up and down a few times, before he gives in, finally pushing into you.
“Oh, fuck,” you gasp at the stretch, reaching out grasp at his bicep, arching your back. He’d prepped you, and it was still too much. 
“You can take it,” he says, pressing deeper into you. His hips are all the way flush with yours, he’s to the hilt, and he still snaps them even further, once, holding you there, so deep, you feel like you’re choking on him. “See? There you go.”
It seems like you can’t quite catch your breath, and you squirm underneath him for some kind of friction, some kind of relief from how intense it all is. You can feel him throbbing inside you, feel how badly his own body is begging him to move, but he doesn’t. 
“Joel,” you cradle the back of his head, look him in the eyes. “Move, please.”
He doesn’t answer, he just brings his hand to grip your jaw, his thumb and forefinger pressing into the soft flesh of your cheeks. 
“Please?” you murmur again, and his thumb slips into your mouth, silencing you. You suck on it obediently, and after you do, he finally gives you what you want.
──────
Joel told you he wouldn’t be gentle, and he isn’t. 
He hadn’t been able to do this last time. Taste you, spread you open, fuck you properly. His hips snap against yours – ferociously, unrelenting, over and over. You’ve been going at it for awhile now, and he actually wants you to break. He wants you to tell him to slow down, to be a little more tender, not press into you so deep, so hard, so that if he listens, it wouldn’t mean he’s breaking his own promise. He’s got to be rough with you, because he’s afraid of what could happen if he’s not.
But you don’t break. You fucking take it, take him, each time, again and again, your nails digging into arms, your legs locked around his hips. Each time he delves into you, you’re getting wetter and wetter, and yet, you’re still so fucking tight. He doesn’t understand it. It’s been a long fucking time since he’s been with a woman like you – and you might be the best he’s ever had. 
You’re not even making any noise – you’re just panting, gasping in Joel’s ear as you cling to him, and that’s all. He can’t even look you in the eyes. If he does, he knows you’ll see everything that’s wrong with him, and still beg for him to give you more. 
Two hands land on either side of his face, turning his head so you can kiss him. Despite how he’s treating you, you keep trying to connect, to ground yourself. For as much as he wants to refuse, it feels too cruel to deny you. He lets you lock your lips with his own, feels your cunt clutch him even tighter. It’s impossible for you to kiss for more than a few seconds at a time without it getting broken up by a whimper here and there. You’re getting close again, he’s started to get better at recognizing it.
“You’re fucking so perfect on me, baby, you feel that?” he asks, and you nod, breathless. “Taking me so well, such a good fucking girl-”
A gasp from you cuts him off, your eyes squeezing shut as you are taken over by your climax. Joel groans and does everything he can not to come when you start pulsing around him, holding him closer, since there’s nothing else to do. It’s way too intimate…because it’s missionary, and he should’ve known better than to start off like this. 
Pulling out of you is the hardest thing he’s had to do in a while, and he ignores your noises of protest now that he’s left you empty. Then, he flips you onto your stomach. He takes a moment to admire the curve of your ass, how it dips into your waist….to him, your body is perfect, and you’re young, your skin still supple and smooth. There are still places he hasn’t gotten his mouth on, and it’s a shame, he thinks, but tonight his patience is wearing thin. Joel pulls you back until you’re on your knees, and slides back inside. There’s a little resistance, you whimper, but it’s easier than the first time. He wraps an arm around your waist, the other across your chest, and starts to jerk his hips upwards, into you. 
“Oh fuck, Joel,” you sigh in relief.
“I know, I know.”
You drop your head back until it falls against his shoulder, winding your arm back so you can pull at his hair, which kind of fucking hurts, but he likes it. 
Ultimately, you’re pretty easy to please, and it’s not long before he feels the telltale flutter of your walls as you drip down over him, soaking his lap. 
“You’re making a fucking mess, baby. You gonna come for me again?”
All you can do is plead with him. “I can’t, Joel. I can’t do it again, please just-”
“Yes, you can,” he interjects. “I know you can, baby, don’t worry…I’ll help you.”
“O-okay.’ 
He slows the roll of his hips just a little, focuses on deeper, longer strokes, and lets the hand that’s currently squeezing one of your tits fall to where your bodies are joined, finding your clit immediately.
You whine, arching back against him, the swell of your ass packed against his lower stomach. He sees a single tear leaking from the corner of your eye and feels a little guilty for what he’s doing to you. Only a little, though. 
Without any warning, for the third time, you’re coming around him – easier than the last time, like always – and he uses the feeling of you throbbing around him to chase his own release, his hand clapping over your mouth to muffle your moans as he becomes increasingly frantic. 
He turns his head, rakes his teeth along your exposed neck, and sinks them into your pulse point with a groan. Your breath is hot against him when you whimper in response. 
“Just a little more, honey.” He’s so close. You bob your head, though you’ve nearly gone limp in his arms.
Like last time, Joel knows it’s a bad idea, but he’s not going to pull out. The thought of deliberately coming inside you is actually what sends him over the edge, and he’s cursing and moaning your name. You whine at the feeling of him pulsing inside of you, arching back for more, even though he can tell you’re exhausted. 
It’s fucking freezing in your apartment, and yet, his skin is damp with sweat when he finally regains some awareness of his surroundings. He’s panting, you’re sniffling, a weak smile on your face as you catch your breath. Before he can stop himself, he presses his lips to your cheek. 
Joel tilts you both forward – very tentatively, keeping an arm wrapped around your waist. At some point, your hand settled over top of his, and you threaded your fingers between his own, holding his hand across your stomach. You keep it there, even after you’ve settled onto the bed.  
It takes a few minutes before either of you move, but it’s you who gives in first, wriggling out from where he’s got you trapped partially underneath him. 
You retreat to the bathroom, like you did last time. Somewhere during your coupling the linens have slid down the bed, and Joel settles back against the pillows, throwing an arm behind his head.  Now that he’s stopped sweating, he’s just cold, and he reaches to pull the bedspread over him. He should leave, he thinks, before you come out and ask him to. Beat you to the punch. Maybe while you’re still in the bathroom. 
A few minutes later, and you return from the bathroom, dressed again in sweats. He hears you pour yourself a glass of water, gulping it down. You flick off the lamp on your bedside table, and fall into bed next to him, lying rigidly on your back. He should reach out, pull you against him, let you settle in his arms. Instead, Joel rolls over on his side. 
It’s terrible how beautiful you are, he thinks, watching you stare up at the ceiling, hugging yourself. So beautiful, and fucking smart. You’re strong, too, but not as strong as he wishes you were. Of course, no one could ever be that strong.
He whispers your name. You turn your head, pupils still blown wide with lingering lust.
“You need to learn to defend yourself, to shoot a gun, to fight,” he says. “After today.”
“What?” you roll to face him. 
“You said you didn’t want to die,” Joel continues. “So you need to learn. ‘Case something like that happens again.”
“Oh yeah? Lemme guess, you’re gonna teach me?” your voice is a little hoarse after what he’d done to you, and you smirk at him.
“Yes.” It sobers you up, that he’s not fucking with you, or giving you a hard time. “I owe you, remember?” 
“You do.” 
“So…. I’ll teach you.” 
“....Okay.” 
“Alright.”
Joel rolls over to his opposite side, and you’re left staring at his back. Arms wrapped around 
himself in a tight hug, he waits for you to tell him to go.
You never do. 
Instead, he feels the heat of your body as you curl up against him, slotting one of your legs between his own. Your hand grazes up his ribs, over his bicep – a gentle, quick massage – before you tuck your arm underneath his own, your palm flat against his heart. 
“What are you doing?” he asks, frozen at how tender the embrace is. It’s a foreign feeling, he can’t remember the last time someone touched him like this. 
The tip of your nose hits the nape of his neck, and he can feel your shuddery exhale.
“I’m cold,” you say, like it’s obvious, lips brushing featherlight against his skin. “And if you’re staying, you might as well make yourself useful.”
He can’t roll over and wrap his arms around you. He can’t kiss your forehead or play with your hair or murmur into your ear. He can’t offer you anything in return. Joel decides, though, if he’s going to accept comfort from anyone, it’s going to be from you.
──────
taglist (basically if you asked for a pt 2 on the last part i tagged you): @bbyanarchist @dlwrish @imaginewrites24 @captain-yellow-96 @daisyintheskyewithdiamonds @sludgec0r33 @c0wb0ym3nace
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eddiemania · 2 years
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Babysitter
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Part two of "Babysitter"
Description: Babysitting Eddie the Freak Munson's little brother was something you genuinely did not expect to be doing this summer (and him watching you while wandering around shirtless was surely not in your plans)
Warnings: smut, babysitter!reader, grinding, fingering, drugs, skirt kink
"Seriously?! The damn newspaper?" you groaned, throwing the document down on the table where both your parents sat. They observed your furious movements with confusion and annoyance before your mother spoke up.
"I don't get why you're so upset. Where did you think you got all the other jobs from?" she questioned as your dad remained silent, "Well, certainly not from here!" your mouth dropped.
You couldn't believe your eyes.
This summer your parents your mom, decided it would be a brilliant idea if you stopped simply "suffocating yourself on that damn bed" as she specifically called it, and started doing something more productive, like the other teens your age did.
So instead of just washing cars or walking some neighbors' dogs, she thought babysitting random children around Hawkins would be so much fun that she was almost offended when you did not start jumping around with sparks of excitement at her vision.
Of course, despite the multiple arguments you two had, the final decision was made and the moment July approached, you already had your first appointment with the Whitlock family.
You didn't particularly dislike children, but the responsibility of a random goblin was terrifying enough. However, it did not seem half as bad when you got to negotiate the money you would get out of it.
And just like that, up until the 19th of July, you had gained over 280 dollars by babysitting twelve children in total. Honestly, it did seem quite odd that the words "y/n y/l/n is babysitting" spread around Hawkings so quickly, but now it all made sense.
Your mother had actually paid Hawkins Post to place your name and phone number under the services section, and you were furious.
You didn't know whether it was the fact that your name was just traveling around the town or that it did so without your consent, but the look on your face as you watched your mother was definitely out of a horror movie.
"Is it a bad time to tell you, you have another appointment?" she apologetically said before smiling, causing you to throw your hands up in the air, "Are you joking right now?!" you scoffed, pacing around the living room.
"Come on y/n it's money," your father finally spoke, making you roll your eyes. Your mother began approaching you, reaching inside the back pocket of her jeans before pulling out a small piece of paper, with a few words written on it, "Don't bail for no reason," she said and handed the note before leaving the room.
Once the paper was in your hands, you quickly glanced down at it, the words making your eyebrows connect with confusion.
"Wayne Munson, 34234 Forest Hills Trailer Park"
Wayne Munson? As in Eddie Munson?
Eddie The Freak Munson from your school?
Your eyes were wide and the only thing that kept you from letting out a tremendous groan was your father's presence inside the room. It couldn't possibly be true. It was probably a coincidence.
What were the chances for two different Munson families living in the same trailer park? Well... zero.
You rushed upstairs to your room, spinning around as you let the information sink in. You knew well what the entire school thought about Eddie and his interests and even if you weren't part of the "Mocking Eddie the freak" club, you certainly had no desire to go anywhere near his place.
You never got the chance to have a normal conversation with the guy, -well, except that one time your teacher made you pair up with him so that he wouldn't fail the chemistry project- but from what was going around, he wasn't anything other than a wasted, creepy, drug dealer who finally got some attention after the infamous 'Reefer Rick' himself went M.I.A.
But considering the situation, that man, Wayne, would not ask you to babysit Eddie, which meant he had another kid living with him in that trailer, something you were confident no one else knew about.
"The appointment is from 7:00pm to 12:00am. Five hours or fifty dollars, depending on what makes you want to go," your mother interrupted your thoughts by knocking on the door.
"Ten an hour? I've gotten fifteen once," you rolled your eyes, trying to sound logical, "You've also once got seven an hour, yet you did not complain," she fired back at you, to which you groaned, "Mom-"
"y/n ten an hour is more than enough for someone that lives in one of Forest Hill's trailers." she glanced down at you with a disapproving look towards your behavior before you sighed in defeat.
"So?"
"This is the last job I'm taking, deal?" you smiled, "y/n-"
"Deal?" you cut her off.
"Fine,"
Three hours had approximately passed since then. You looked down at your watch, which pointed at 6:45pm. Forest Hills was about ten minutes from your house, so quickly, you grabbed a skirt and a t-shirt from your chair, took your bike's locker keys, and rushed downstairs.
The way to the Trailer Park was easier than you expected, with all the streets surrounding it being almost empty, with no sign of actual residents.
You glanced down at the information again the moment you got off your bike.
"34231... 32... 33..." you mumbled under your breath as you looked around.
34234.
You took a good look at it. It wasn't anything too odd, just a simple trailer with some junk laying outside of it. The van he always came to school with was parked outside. The railings towards his door were old and rusty.
Random deflated balls and toys together with squeezed cans of beer were thrown under and in front of the stairs and a few empty glasses sat alone on the picnic table shelter.
You took a deep breath before slowly approaching the railings, making sure no one you could possibly know was around by any chance.
Once you were certain, you placed your fist on the door, cautiously knocking three times, but there was no response. You knocked, again and again, frowning at the lack of reaction.
The moment you were about to step away, though, a loud groan caught your attention. "Come here, you little shit!" a familiar voice yelled whilst you heard two loud pairs of footsteps running around in your direction.
"Ricky!"
The door was opened, and your gaze was immediately drawn down. There stood a little boy with curly hair and big brown eyes staring at you as he bit the hem of his 'Snorks' themed t-shirt.
"Hello little guy," you beamed, quickly bending down to play with his fluffy hair. You could obviously tell the Eddie Munson was the one standing behind the boy, but you simply didn't have the courage to peek up just yet.
"Hi," the little boy smiled widely, his two front teeth missing. Your heart melted as you observed his puffy cheeks, "What's your name mister?" you asked in a childish tone when he began jumping around, "Ricky," he said, immediately running back inside the house, losing him off your sight.
You swallowed, getting off your feet and feeling tense the moment your eyes caught his. "Hey," Eddie smiled awkwardly, gesturing for you to get inside, "Hi," you forced a gentle smile, finally getting in the trailer.
You inspected the place. It was genuinely not bad. A few band posters and an impressive amount of caps on the wall caught your attention immediately. A few toy cars were thrown around together with random bags and boxes of delivered food.
"Thanks for coming here, I really don't know how to handle him on my own," he said, as you looked at his eyes seemingly traveling across your body, examining you, or rather your skirt.
"Yeah, no problem," you only said, picking up a toy from the ground. "Do you live here alone?" you proceeded to question, being unable to tell if anyone else was there.
He sat down on the couch before shaking his head, "I live with my uncle Wayne, but he's away for a couple of days, and looking after Ricky hasn't been much of a success." he rubbed his temples.
"Oh, I thought your uncle called me," you replied which made him avoid your eyes, "Well that was me. I know we never -like- interact at school since you know," he rubbed the back of his neck, "You're you and-" he finally glanced at you, "I am me,"
As he was about to continue, you cut him off, "It's okay Eddie," you managed to let out, catching him off guard, "I get it,"
"What's your name?" Your eye contact with him broke the moment Ricky appeared from behind his leg as he still gripped it, "I'm y/n, it's nice to meet you, Ricky!" you smiled when his little hands were wrapped around your torso, hugging you.
"Hey, Ricky!" Eddie tried to stop him, but you laughed it off, making him understand it was okay.
The boy sat next to you, taking the toy you were holding off your hands. "This is Mr. bubbles," he spoke and started rumbling about it for approximately five minutes.
You and Eddie awkwardly sat and listened to him, except your mind thinking about other things. He was definitely not as bad as you expected from the little seconds of interaction you had with him but you still didn't want to rush your expectations.
After about half an hour of you looking after the little boy playing around and Eddie doing something that you couldn't really see in the kitchen, he finally spoke up.
"Is it okay if I go take a shower?" he questioned. He obviously hadn't hired a babysitter before and you could tell, "Yeah, no problem,"
Ricky then immediately dragged you down on the floor with him as he lied on his belly, making you beam, "I want big curly hair like Diddie" he spoke when the bathroom door closed.
"Like who?" you frowned with confusion, unable to understand some of his words, "My brother, Diddie" he replied, pointing towards the door, "Oh!" you messed his hair a little.
You then took a good look at him once again. His hair had curls, just like Eddies but they were significantly shorter, almost like an outgrown buzz-cut.
"Are you growing them out?" you smiled and asked, but he shook his head, "Dad doesn't like long hair," he responded as his hand drove a toy car across the floor, "But Eddie has long hair," you connected your eyebrows, "Dad doesn't like Eddie a lot," the boy finally glanced at you helping you understand what the situation was.
You immediately felt like it was your responsibility to change the subject, so you grabbed a toy and played with him for a couple of minutes.
The entire time you could hear the water running down the shower, so when it stopped, Ricky immediately ran towards the door, "Diddie!" he yelled with excitement, barely opening the door before Eddie shut it again, "Hey dude! Wait a second!" he laughed which strangely caught you off guard.
You had certainly never heard Eddie Munson laugh before. It was genuine and loud. You had been at his Trailer with him for about two out of the five hours you had to stay and although you did not interact much except for times to talk about his little brother, you could not understand why people despised him so much.
"Diddie!"
"Okay, okay! I'm done," you looked outside the window, only listening to his voice leaving the bathroom, "What's all the eagerness? Is y/n torturing you?" he looked at you as he tried to get your attention.
You turned your head with a smile, "Hey!" you laughed but your brain stopped working when you realized he only wore a towel low on his waist.
His chest and arms had various kinds of tattoos. Tattoos you couldn't see before. One of them began at the top of his inner hip, barely visible as the rest of it continued under the piece of fabric he covered himself with.
"y/n I'll have to contact Hawkins Post for child abuse," he teased, something he hadn't done before during your time together, "No, y/n is good," Ricky smacked his leg, making you let a small laugh out.
"That's Diddie abuse," he frowned at his brother before the little boy ran towards you, climbing and hiding behind your back. "Don't involve me in your vendetta," you smiled at Eddie, something he returned.
God, did he look oddly good? His pick necklace was the only thing on his torso and his back was perfectly defined. You couldn't help but keep on staring at that tattoo on his hip, but when he called your name, blood rushed through your cheeks, the thought of him catching your stare frightening you.
"Yes?" you cleared your throat, "I think we should put that big ol' guy to sleep," he softly laughed, his gaze falling on the little boy behind you having his eyes shut. You immediately glanced at your watch, was it already 9:00pm?
You nodded before gently taking Ricky's hand, having Eddie lead you to the child's bedroom which appeared to be pretty simple. He had a little bed with barriers on the side. Once you saw them, your head turned to Eddie.
"He is a pretty energized sleeper," he chuckled, watching you from the door. You smiled, nodding in response, "You can wait outside, I'll be okay," you then spoke, watching him leave and close the door behind him.
"y/n are you gonna stay here?" Ricky asked, opening his eyes slightly, "Yeah for a little while," you nodded, realizing you had to be alone with Eddie for the hours you had left.
Usually, the parents were away leaving you alone inside their house, which meant you could either relax or maybe play some music, but this time, you clearly weren't alone...
By the time you finished thinking, you noticed the boy had shut his eyes entirely. Your gaze fell on the planet at the end of his bed, which you took in your grip before tucking him in and making sure the barriers were attached properly.
You left the room and made your way through the tiny hall right into the living room where the lights had been turned off, only the TV playing in the background.
Eddie sat on the couch, apparently clothed, a cigarette between his lips as he observed the device with boredom. "He's asleep," you spoke, making him turn his attention to you, "I'm so thankful y/n," he said as he approached you, his presence inches away from yours.
Eddie suddenly smiled and raised his index finger at you, motioning you to wait for a second as he passed by you, making his way towards the small spaced kitchen.
You slowly walked over to the couch where he was sitting, shortly listening to his footsteps approach you.
"Since your shift ends in like two hours I figured you might be a little hungry," he awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck, placing a homemade pizza on the wooden table in front of you right before squishing the cigarette he was holding between his fingers into the ashtray.
"You made this?" you smiled, watching him nod in response before sitting down right next to you, with quite a cautious space of about one and a half people.
"Do you um..." he swallowed, pointing at the old, half-damaged TV, "Do you want to watch something? Hammer House of Horror starts at 9:30," he questioned, "Oh my God! I love this series!" you smiled widely, which he immediately returned.
"To be honest I didn't expect you to babysit," he said, your head turning to him, "Me neither. My mother pressured me to do it so that I wasn't inside the house 24/7," you responded, rolling your eyes as you slightly slid on the end of the couch, reaching to grab a piece of pizza as you felt your skirt slightly hovering higher on your thigs.
Of course, he looked. Every slight movement caught his attention even though it shouldn't. "24/7? Don't you hang out with your friends?" he tried to not be stiff, but you could tell how much he despised your friend group by even mentioning it.
"Well everyone's kinda busy, I guess," you responded while looking at your white converse, "You guess?" the boy frowned, making you sigh, "When it's not for alcohol and popularity, they have no good intention," you took a bite, surprised at how good it was.
"And I'm the loud freak," he rolled his eyes as he got up, moving towards a cabinet. You didn't respond. Even if you never told anything bad about him, you would always listen to your friends' conversations regarding him and his tendencies, maybe even chuckle at some of the comments.
"Is it okay if I smoke?"
You glanced down at him waiting for a response. Considering he was already smoking, you knew it wasn't about nicotine this time, but you didn't mind, it was his place anyway.
He approached you, rolling his blunt the moment he sat down and you quietly observed him.
He was wearing a black, sleeveless Iron Maiden shirt and a pair of sweat shorts. You were used to him wearing his jeans and his leather jackets, so that comfortable look was new to you.
"Do you want the first?" he asked, stealing your attention away from his clothes. You had never done drugs before so you kindly declined, watching him inhale slowly before letting out a heavy amount of smoke, his head falling back.
"You are an excellent chef," you beamed as he turned his eyes to you, "Oh yeah? Are you sure the blunt didn't get to you?" you both laughed, noticing him move closer towards you.
You sat there quietly for about two minutes watching the ads on the TV before you finally spoke up, "I didn't know you had a brother," you said and he smiled, "Yeah... Ricky's my soft spot, but he lives with my father, so I don't get to see him often," he responded, making you question whether you should continue this conversation or not.
"How come? If you don't mind me asking of course!" you move your hands quickly, making him smile, "It's okay," he chuckled, inhaling once again, "Well Ricky's young and I am not. I came here to live with Wayne since I couldn't take his shit anymore," Eddie shrugged, making you nod.
"Could I... Could I give it a try?" you suddenly questioned before he gave you a confused look, "Are you sure?" the curyhead asked, making you nod.
He approached you, his face inches away from yours as his hand was brought up to your lips, his big fingers holding the blunt right between them. You have him a quick look before lowering your face and placing the rolled paper between your pink lips.
"Now inhale," he instructed you, his voice so low, it was almost like a whisper. As you did so, his eyes didn't leave yours for a second. You didn't know where you found the courage to maintain the contact, but you did, and it felt... different.
"Good," he pulled his hand away, letting you exhale, a few coughs escaping your mouth, "Who would have thought," he smiled, "Eddie Munson smoking weed with y/n y/l/n on his couch," he grinned.
"You're right, I'm supposed to be working here," you rub your forehead with guilt before pulling away, about to stand up, "Hey," his hand gently grabs yours, making you sit back down, "Ricky's sleeping, just talk with me, here," his eyes were heavy and his lips slightly curved.
His lips were full and vibrant.
"My mom will slaughter me," you slightly giggle, grabbing his hand before inhaling once again, which was the first time you ever had physical contact with each other.
He liked it. He carefully observed your face with his fingers in front of it. Your hands both grasped his bigger one, and your expression numbed when the smoke escaped your lips. He really liked it.
"Not bad, hm?" Eddie smiled, noticing you relaxing more, "Not bad at all," you whispered back. "Is your mom going to pick you up?" the boy then questioned before you shook your head, "Then you can stay a little longer so I have company,"
You nod with a slight blush on your cheeks that was thankfully invisible due to the low lighting of the room.
"You're really nice. Sweeter than all of my friends," you admit, making him touch his chest dramatically, "y/n! You're showing kindness towards a small, little peasant, like me!" Eddie spoke, making you gasp, "Oh, shut up," you laugh with him.
"For real though. I wish we knew each other earlier than this stupid mess of High School,"
He lets your words sink in before his eyes turn to you, "We can learn each other now," he speaks quietly, making you turn your head, "But I get why you might hold back," he adds.
"Weird, satanic, freak Eddie Munson and a cheerleader from Carver's circle," he laughs, exhaling smoke. You roll your eyes, almost breaking the distance between your bodies, "You're way cooler than Jason, for the record," you smile.
"Yeah, that's enough blunt for you," he chuckles making you groan, "I'm serious,"
"A little determined, aren't we now, y/n?" his face turns to you, inches away from yours and your breath hitches, "Is it pity, or is it something else?" he asks.
"Huh? It's nothing, I'm just being honest," you quickly respond, "You know what I think?" Eddie smiled, his face even closer this time, your lips barely away from touching, "I think it's the older guy that mommy and daddy don't approve of situation," he whispers, "What? No, I-"
"Are you sure?" his eyes examine yours from that close-up distance you two were in. You breathe heavy, smelling his freshly shampooed hair, his perfume, and weed all in one. You rethink his words. You were a senior too with just two years of difference from him. He was always mocked by every other person your age and yet there you were, smoking with him, only knowing him for barely a day.
Without thinking of it, you slightly move your head, your lips brushing over his, when his hands grab the back of your head, slightly pushing you closer to him.
It felt different. It wasn't just a plain kiss. You were kissing Eddie Munson and maybe he was right, It did turn you on that it was him.
"Come here," he whispers, sitting back on the couch before placing your legs on each side of him, placing you on top of him. He softly licks your upper lip, waiting for permission to enter your mouth, and you immediately give it to him.
As your tongues explore each other's mouths, his hands study your body cautiously, not wanting to make you feel uncomfortable. He carefully caresses your back, only over the elastic of your skirt.
His lips gently abandon yours as he begins to trace a path on your soft jaw, slowly moving toward the beginning of your neck, "Eddie," you breathe out, your hands around his neck, and your eyes shut closed.
His name sounds good when you say it, it makes him feel things he didn't even know were possible, "Sweetheart, can I touch you?" he speaks against your neck, not breaking contact once.
"Yes, please," you say with satisfaction and he grins, "So polite all the time," Eddie says. All you can hear is the sloppy kisses on your skin and the low-volume TV when you feel his large hands sliding down your body, grabbing your ass with lust.
Your skirt dances as he caresses you, and you instantly feel his erection. The more he touches you, the more it grows. You softly moan, taking his hands into yours as you guide them on your touch-starved thighs.
"I've been craving those pretty thighs ever since I first saw you in that little cheer skirt," he sighs, squeezing your legs as he pulls away from your neck, looking at you right in the eyes, "You never noticed me y/n, no matter what I did," his hands travel higher from where you placed them, under the hem of your white skirt.
"No matter how many times I had to get on top of tables and shout like a maniac, you never noticed me," he begins kissing your lips softly again, his index finger wandering around the sides of your little panties.
"I always noticed you, Eddie," you reply against him, your voice shattering the more his fingers played with your underwear, "Yeah, just not the way I wanted you to,"
Eddie immediately grabs your hips under your skirt, pushing you down to put pressure on his aching erection, making himself let out a soft moan as your clothed cunt hovers above his tight sweats.
"Oh God," you whine, holding tighter onto him, "Is it okay if-" as he's about to finish the sentence, his house phone interrupts him, making him groan in frustration, "Sorry about that," he rolls his eyes as he keeps on kissing your collar bones, "Eddie, wait,"
The curlyhead immediately stops, looking at you concerned, "It could be my mother," you bite your lower lip nervously, "Do you want to pick it up?" he hums but you shake your head as you begin to peck his neck carefully, "Oh beautiful, that's it," he keeps grinding you against him when the phone finally stops ringing.
His hands keep exploring, suddenly stopping above your shirt to look at you for permission. You give it to him, about to help take it off but he stops you, "Come here," he picks you up off the couch when you place your palm over your mouth to avoid making any sound as you pass the hall.
He places you on his bed and instantly locks the door behind him. The moment Eddie turned around your shirt was off, and his lips slightly parted, eyes fixated on your breasts.
He sits on the bed, crawling towards you the moment he begins placing small kisses on your chest, cupping you over your bra, "Sit on top of me pretty," he groans as he places his back against some of his pillows, watching you climb on him.
"Eddie," you say as he kisses and sucks on your breasts, "Yes beautiful?" the boy responds, his eyes looking up at you, "I-" you grind faster, "Please I need you," your hands lift up your own skirt and he breaths heavily at the view.
"Are you sure baby?" he questions one last time before you nod. His hands make you turn around, your ass against his clothed hips as you still remain on top of him. You're confused at the sudden turn, but you trust him.
"How many times I've thought about you..." his hand is under your skirt again, playing with the hem of your panties as your back remains against his chest, "Did things thinking about you," he pushed his hand in your underwear, his middle finger gently rubbing your clit as his mouth remains against your ear.
"I once skipped class because of my filthy thoughts about your pretty little body," you moan when he begins to rub you faster, your back arching in pleasure as he leaves a couple of kisses on your earlobe.
"My pretty little cheerleader, aren't you now?" he moves further down your cunt, caressing in and gently playing with it before circling your entrance, "Why didn't you approach me?" you struggle to let out between your quiet whimpers, "I'm a little shy sometimes y/n,"
His middle finger enters you fully, causing you to let out a loud moan. He begins taking a pace, which keeps getting quicker and quicker. "So shy," he keeps finger fucking you while his other hand holds yours over your waist just so that you stay in place.
"Oh God, Eddie," you nag, your free hand grabbing the one fucking you, just to make him understand you needed one more digit. He grins, adding his ring finger only to watch you fall apart more.
"I can't wait for my dick to be in there," he whispers, the hand that held you still letting go off your waist and instead, finding its way to your clit, where it kept on rubbing.
You moan faster and faster, pushing your ass against him just so you can hear his groans and curses coming out of his lips, "Can I come?" you question and he moans, "What a well-behaved girl," Eddie praises, keeping on with his movements, "Help yourself, beautiful," he smiles, allowing you to come all over his thick, ring-filled fingers.
You become a moaning mess, falling onto his bed as you try to catch your breath, your stomach rising up and down from the heaviness of your breaths.
Eddie smiles with satisfaction as he carefully places himself on top of you, slowly licking and kissing your bare belly. You quickly reach behind your back, unclasping your bra before throwing it on the floor next to you.
He almost chokes before kissing higher, finally able to place your nipple between his lips and suck, causing your back to tingle from the sensation.
Your fingers get lost in the maze of his hair as you gently push him closer to you. He moans. He loves it. Every single second of his face is buried inside your breasts is like heaven to him.
His hands carefully climb up your skirt, slowly pulling your panties off before placing them inside his pocket, "I might need those, you know," you giggle, feeling his smile grow against your breast, "I'm sure you have plenty of other ones that I can also steal," he chuckles, releasing you off his mouth to let you observe all the hickeys he had painted your body with.
"I'll hang that on my wall," he gives you a boyish grin that makes you laugh, "You are so stupid, Munson,"
7K notes · View notes
totheblood · 10 months
Text
superposition. (five)
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pairing: dealer!ellie x best friend!reader
summary: ellie goes to bloomingdales and gets a little brown bag, and you come over
warnings: 18+ sm*t! cursing, drug/alcohol mention and use, ch
a/n: this is not proofread! i am writing this on like six benadryl.. so don't hate me.. ok I love u and I am happy I wrote this also reblogs, asks, and replies are so appreciated and encouraged! thank u kisses
wc: 3.4k
masterlist for previous chapters
"no matter what we do, i'll be there with you."
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Ellie was over this.
Sooo over this, she told herself as she found herself trailing behind Dina in a Bloomingdales, stopping at the Tom Ford counter to smell your perfume. Hands tucked in pockets as she glanced up at the sales associate that eyed her, a polite but forced smile on her face. In her blue and white flannel, Ellie was sure she wasn’t the target demographic. 
“Are you looking for anything specific?” Her voice was sing-songy and Ellie was internally cringing at how she knew this was going to go. 
“I’m uh-- looking for a scent,” Ellie awkwardly spat out. Obviously, she was looking for a perfume… at the goddamn perfume counter.  “It’s um… sweet… or fruity.”
“Does it smell like a specific fruit by any chance?” The lady asked, it looked like she was in pain behind her smile. Ellie was sure she was just projecting.  Her own nose scrunched up, indicating she didn’t know the answer to the question. 
“I don’t know… it’s um…” Ellie looked around as if she was searching for the answer, “Maybe it’s lemon? I don’t know… it’s for my girlfriend. It’s in a white bottle with a gold label.” Ellie knew you weren’t her girlfriend, she wasn’t even sure if you were friends anymore but it couldn’t hurt to pretend. 
“Oh, Soleil Blanc!” She practically yelled, picking up the bottle in front of her and spraying a bit of it onto a testing strip. She handed the flimsy paper to Ellie and Ellie had to mentally prepare herself before smelling it. Ellie brought it up to her nose and took a deep breath in, eyes fluttering closed as she did. If she closed them for long enough she could imagine you here, and instead of the annoying sales lady, there would be you. You would probably be smelling every perfume imaginable and holding tightly onto Ellie’s arm, but when Ellie opened her eyes you weren’t there. There was just the annoying sales lady and her. 
“Is that what you were looking for?” She asked, fake smile still on her face. 
“Um… yeah…” Ellie smiled as politely as she could, but she could feel herself shaking. It was almost as if she was on the verge of a panic attack but never really crossed the threshold. She never really flipped out or cried, she just shook for a bit and moved on. “I’ll take it. How much is it?”
“It’s only 295 dollars.” The sales lady said with a straight face as Ellie practically choked on her spit. How the fuck did you afford this? And why was this bitch saying ‘only’ as if that wasn’t an absurd amount of mone-
“Yeah, I’ll take it,” Ellie pursed her lips as she handed over her card. If she was being completely honest she had almost too much money and nothing to spend it on. And if she was being brutally honest with herself, the 295 was worth it right now. She didn’t want to admit it, but she needed you right now, and Tom Ford had your scent bottled up. 
“Your girlfriend is a lucky lady,” She laughed as she rang Ellie up, putting it in a gift bag without asking Ellie if she wanted it wrapped in the first place.
“I’m the lucky one,” Ellie said instinctively. She was already playing the role, so she might as well commit to the bit. Ellie had honestly never been a girlfriend, so she didn’t know if she was doing it right, but she assumed this was how it went. 
Apart from her domestic fantasies about you, she hadn’t really thought about being in a relationship. The idea made her sick to her stomach, but now she didn’t know if it was because she couldn’t imagine being with anyone but you or if her fear of commitment was out to get her. 
She wasn’t a complete idiot when it came to relationships though. She had dated this one girl her sophomore year in high school which abruptly ended when the girl's father found out about them. Ellie was sad about it for maybe a week but moved on when she found something else to fill her ever-running mind. 
Ellie wanted to be your first girlfriend, that much she knew, but that dream had taken a quick and bitter ending. Her face soured at the idea that she would never get that opportunity. She could never call you her high school sweetheart or any straight and corny crap she could think of. The sickly sweet dream was now something rotten. She was buying your perfume for fucksake. 
“Aw, that’s so sweet,” She smiled again, tucking the receipt into the bag and handing it over to Ellie, “Have a good day!”
Ellie found Dina looking through clothing racks somewhere in the back, approaching her and leaning up against the wall, knowing they would be there for some time. Dina had to do a double take when she saw the little brown bag in Ellie’s hand.
“What did you buy?” She breathed out a laugh before turning back to the racks and holding up what looked like a leather jacket. 
“Nothing,” Ellie sighed, rolling her eyes. She flexed her feet, looking down at them, anything to avoid eye contact right now.
“Why are you being weird?” Dina asked, deciding to put the jacket back and continue looking through the mixed clothes, “Like what did you buy at Bloomingdales that you don’t want me to know about?”
“It’s just..” Another puff of air from Ellie’s lips, “It’s a perfume. I just spent a ridiculous amount of money on it and I don’t want you to make fun of me for it.” It was a half-lie.
“What perfume?” Dina looked at her temporarily, causing Ellie to shift uncomfortably, but she quickly turned to another rack of clothes. 
“It’s this one from Tom Ford…” Dina stopped in her tracks as Ellie spoke, “Called Soleil Blanc or whatever.”
Dina was frozen for a moment before she turned to Ellie, her hand on her hip and face serious. 
“You bought her perfume?” Dina’s voice was sharp. She didn’t really know what was happening between the two of you but she knew that you hadn’t talked in a while and Ellie was barely leaving her apartment. It didn’t take a genius to complete the dots, but if it did Dina would still qualify. 
“I-I,” Ellie stuttered out, green eyes wide as she looked around, “No, it’s not for her. I-It’s for me. I like the scent. It’s nice.”
“You’re so full of shit, Ellie.”
“I’m not.”
“You fucking are,” Dina rolled her eyes as she started heading towards the door, Ellie hot on her trail, “You’re probably going to spray your pillow and hump it while you pretend it’s her.” Not a bad idea, Ellie thought. 
“I’m not!” Ellie followed her as her footsteps picked up, “It’s just a nice scent, and I like it. It’s not weird… I’m not a creep or anything, okay? The scent soothes me.”
“Yeah, cause she’s your fucking pacifier!” Dina whisper yelled as they approached the car, “She’s been your pacifier since junior year.”
“My pacifier? The fuck does that mean?” Ellie swung her door open, got in the passenger seat and buckled herself in.
“It means you practically rely on her to remain calm,” Dina explained, hopping in the car and breathing out a laugh as she shook her head, “I used to think it was just a weird friendship thing but I’m starting to believe you’re actually in love with her.”
The air in the car changed for a moment as Ellie stared blankly at Dina. She didn’t know what to say. Any claim that she wasn’t in love with you would come out in a stuttered mess and admitting to someone else that she was in love with you was something she didn’t feel like doing today. 
“Oh my fucking god,” Dina sighed, rubbing her face with the palms of her hands, “You’re fucking in love with her.”
“Yeah,” was all Ellie said as she leaned back in her seat and let Dina drive her home.
--
She didn’t want to think about it anymore. That night when she got home and got out of the shower, skin still damp and hair still wet, she soaked herself in the perfume, put on ‘The Office’, and ate a frozen pizza. This was pathetic, all of it. The pining, the wallowing, the perfume. She fell asleep after pitying herself for a while, the day finally getting to her. 
She was woken up by loud knocks on her door, jolting her awake. She was honestly pissed as she stumbled over to the door wiping the sleep from her eyes. She opened the door without thinking, the possibility of someone bursting through the door only to murder her sounding more than tempting right now, but when she opened the door she was met with your face. 
Your bare face, tired eyes, and tied-back hair. No smile on your face, but your eyes had the creases in them that they had when you did. You were in your pajamas, like you had decided on a whim to come over here. Wait, why were you here?
“Uh,” Ellie said awkwardly, shifting to lean against her door frame as she looked at you.
“Can I come in?” you asked.
“Why?”
“Ellie, let me in,” and she had already moved to the side, allowing you to slip past her as she closed and locked her door. Someone could murder her, but if you were here the door was staying closed. 
“Why are you here?” Ellie sighed, rubbing her face with one hand, voice raspy and deep from sleep.
“I…” You took a deep breath and steadied yourself, “Are.. are you wearing my perfume?” Ellie’s eyes widened as she shifted uncomfortably.
“What? No,” Ellie quickly defended, “Just tell me why you’re here before I kick you out.”
“I just was thinking about what you said to me at the gala,” you began, “I can’t get it out of my head, I can’t get you out of my head.” Ellie’s heart was already racing at this. Pathetic. 
“So?”
“So?” you repeated back to her, “Stop being a bitch, Ellie. You got to confess now it’s my turn. Don’t ruin it.” That shut Ellie up real fast. 
“I just didn’t know why it wasn’t the same with… her,” you looked down at her feet, fluffy socks covering them. Cute, “I just didn’t understand it, but I think it’s love… or love adjacent,” you sighed, “Fuck, I don’t know.”
“What about your girlfriend?” Ellie reminded you.
“She’s not my girlfriend anymore, it’s not completely over but we aren’t dating.”
“Not completely over? What the fuck does that mean?” Ellie knew she sounded like a bitch but she couldn’t help herself, all of it was too confusing. 
“I don’t know, Ellie! I don’t know what any of this means, I didn’t know what it was like to be with someone else until you kissed me. This was your bright idea and it,” you took a long deep breath, rolling your eyes, “and it was a fucking dumb one. I already liked you at that point and it confused me, okay? I mean, what the fuck was that? You were going to fuck me to ‘teach me’, I mean?”
“Pe-”
“And stop with that shit! My fucking pet name? Seriously? This isn’t normal, this wasn’t normal and now you’re acting like I did something wrong by dating someone, who you helped me date? I didn’t know what was even happening until you were telling me you liked me days after she asked me to be her girlfriend!”
“Did you come here to yell at me?” Ellie said calmly. It was only making you more angry.
“I came here to tell you I liked you and you’re being an asshole so I get to yell at you!” You huffed, your nostrils flared and your hand had found its way to your hip. Ellie hated how much she was attracted to you at this exact moment. 
“I’m not being an asshole, I just don’t know what you want me to do,” She pinched the bridge of her nose, looking you up and down, “You’re still seeing her, and I’m done sharing you.”
“I won’t see her anymore.”
“Are you serious?” She laughed.
“Dead fucking serious,” you scrambled to pull out your phone, “I’ll block her number right now.”
“You don’t have t-”
“I will.”
“Why?”
“Cause I want you,” you sounded exhausted like you had said this a thousand times before, “And no matter how hard I try no one will ever be you and I’m tired of acting like this isn’t what I want. Like you aren’t who I want.”
Ellie licked her lip, pulling her bottom lip in between her teeth as she rubbed at her chin. She was acting like she was thinking, but she had already made up her mind. She wanted you. 
Ellie didn’t have it in her to be upset with you anymore as she saw the genuine desperation in your eyes. She wanted to kiss the worried look off your face, nip at your skin as she told you it was okay, that you were forgiven. She wanted to do that but instead, she walked over to you, closing the distance between the two of you.
"You better not be fucking with me," she warned, her voice coming out in a whisper, as her eyes flicked down to your lips.
You shook your head, your own eyes looking down at her lips as you stepped closer, "I'm not. I promise."
Ellie didn’t want to wait any longer. Without another word, she grabbed you by your hips, pulling at you but ultimately balling the material of your sweatshirt in her hands. She pulled you into her, pressing her lips to yours, slow and sweet. Like always, her eyes fluttered closed, as she felt you loosen up in her grip. Your own hand reached up to grab at her arms. You were just as touch-starved and desperate as her. The taste of your lips was making her dizzy, a mixture of sweetness and desire that made her head spin. She could feel the heat radiating between you, coming off you in waves. It smelled like lemon. 
Her hands roamed over your body, grabbing at anything she could. Your ass, thighs, tits. They were all hers. She could feel herself growing wet as you stuck your tongue in her mouth and was only met with a moan. All she could taste was mint and all she could smell was lemon and she was certain she was going to pass out. 
With a sudden surge of urgency, Ellie pushed you against her kitchen table, helping you sit on it as she pushed her unopened mail to the side. She pulled away for a moment to look at you. You looked so pretty with swollen lips, tip of your nose slightly red from her own brushing against yours. 
“You’re so fucking pretty, Petal,” she pushed a stray hair out of your face smiling as she gently kissed your lips. It was short and sweet and made your heart race. The initial thrill was gone and you were left with heavy breathing and an intimate stare. Her hands dipped into the waistband of your sweatpants, pulling at them gently, “Can I take these off for you?” 
She smiled and kissed you again as you nodded. She pulled them down and let them fall to the floor, leaning down to press a kiss to your thigh, making you shiver. You weren’t wearing anything special, just some grey briefs that betrayed you by showing the damp spot between your legs. 
“Sit back for me,” Ellie instructed, moving you backward so you could put the soles of your feet on the table. You did as you were told, leaning up on your elbows to get a good look at her. Ellie pulled a chair up, sitting in front of you. Her hand grabbed at your ankle, rubbing the skin as she leaned forward to lick you through your underwear. The sudden contact made you gasp and close your eyes. She looked up at you and smiled, before licking again, and closing her mouth around your clothed clit and sucking gently. 
All of her movement was excruciatingly slow as she pulled at the hem of your underwear, dragging them up and over your legs and throwing them to the side. This wasn’t the first time she saw you like this, but every time she did she felt her own clit aching. She leaned down again and slowly licked up your cunt, from your entrance to clit, sucking again as she flicked her tongue against you. As she did this her own hand traveled lower, sticking into the waistband of her pants and circling her clit. It didn’t help that you were whimpering beneath her, words that sounded like her name coming from your mouth. 
She wasn’t being vocal this time, though. She was focusing solely on you and how her own pleasure was growing.  
You moaned out loud this time as she slid two fingers inside you, her fingers curling upwards as she did so. Ellie's touch was both gentle and demanding, her fingers brushing a sensitive spot inside you, causing you to gasp out again. The rhythm of her movements never sped up, they were slow and calculated and she had only pumped her fingers in and out of you a few times before she was pulling them out and licking them clean.
Ellie stood up and guided you to the edge of the table, pulling one of your legs off the table and leaving one firmly planted on the table.
“You’re okay?” She checked in momentarily, placing her hands on your hips as you sat up. 
“More than okay,” you smiled leaning forward to kiss her again. She groaned into the kiss and took a step back, stripping her pants from her body and pulling off her underwear, and throwing it into the pile where yours was. You decided to be bold and reach forward to circle her clit with your fingers, causing her to groan, throw her head back, and grip at the edge of the table. 
“Fuck,” she cursed out, grinding into your touch almost forgetting her plans. Almost. She grabbed at your wrist stopping you, and pulling your hand off of her. 
“Was that not,” you mumbled out, “was that not good?”
“No, shit…” Ellie cursed under her breath, “It was too good. I just.. I had other plans, okay?”
“Okay,” you smiled, still unsure of yourself.
Ellie lifted one of her legs onto the table, so her cunt was positioned right on top of yours. Her gaze locked with yours as she slowly ground her hips into you, earning a loud gasp from you as you grabbed onto her, your own juices mixing with hers. You could tell how wet she was which only egged you on, making your eyes roll back into your head as she ground faster into you, her own breathing heavy and shallow. She was panting as she gripped onto your thigh, nails leaving marks there. Her other hand reached up to reach the back of your neck as she sped up once again.
“Came back to me just for this…” She breathed out, “She couldn’t make you cum… She could never make you look like this.”
As both of your moans grew louder, Ellie’s grip only tightened on you, the phrase “you’re mine” falling from her lips multiple times. The pleasure and pressure was overwhelming, a deep knot in your stomach was begging to come undone.
“Ellie, I’m going to-”
“Cum,” she demanded as her movements sped up and became more sloppy. She was about burst. As your moans grew louder and faster, and she could tell you were about to cum, she pressed her lips to yours, moaning as her hand that was gripping your thigh rested on your table. You came as she kissed you. 
She pulled away, her leg falling from the table as she leaned against the table, both of her hands gripping the edge. She didn’t want to look up at you, scared that you would have decided by now that you wanted to leave her. Reluctantly she looked up at your sweaty face to see you smiling at her, toothy grin and all making her smile back. 
“Oh, you soooo have a crush on me,” you teased.
“Oh, shut up. So do you.”
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stirthewaters · 1 month
Text
Too Sharp to Touch pt.12
Word Count: 2.5k
Summary: Wednesday comforts you in your fear of the rain
Warnings: language, pills/drugs? Fluff
Pairings: Wednesday x Reader
Too Sharp to Touch Masterlist
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The darkening skies had you on edge as you walked along the sidewalk.
The presence of Wednesday at your side was starting to become surprisingly familiar as she strode beside you, her pale, well manicured fingers gripping the straps of her backpack rather tightly as her deadpan expression remained focused straight ahead. It was starting to become quite comforting.
The two of you were in town for different reasons; Wednesday specifically wanted to visit the hunting store to look over the recent customers to add to her evidence board, and while you of course were devoted to the case the two of you were engaged in, you were in town for an alternate purpose; supplements.
Not that you found anything wrong with your wolf, merely because you preferred not to spend full moons in the lupine cages. Your most recent prescription had unfortunately been completed right before the full moon; about two days away from now. All you had to do was show your prescription to the outcast doctor and be on your way.
“This way.” A slight nudge on your arm tugged you from your thoughts as you glanced over to see Wednesday turning the corner, barely slowing down as she pointed out without even sparing you a glance. “You’re nervous.”
You scurried back to her side, unable to resist a soft roll of your eyes as you mumbled, “it’s a perfectly normal phobia.”
“I’d hardly label the fear of rain as rational.” Wednesday remarked, shooting you a look as her boots clomped along the sidewalk, a rhythm you repeated with your fingers against your side. “Perhaps some therapy would do you good.”
“Oh and where did that get you?” You retort hotly as her glare darkens. “I’d rather not look for psychological help in a town that’s known for murders. I’m already breaking the rules enough being out here.”
“It’s merely a medical trip for you. Consider it that way if you prefer a clean conscience.” Wednesday almost shrugged, pausing abruptly and causing you to stumble, nearly bumping into her in the process. “I’ll meet you back here once I’m done.”
“It’s a pharmacy, not a drop-off center…” you grumbled under your breath as you stepped into the building, the warm heat welcoming you as opposed to the cold outside. You turned and watched as Wednesday walked off in the direction of the hunting store.
Approaching the counter you instantly recognized Dr. Kennedy, the same man who’d started to become familiar with your occasional visits.
“Ah, Y/N. Welcome back.” The man smiled over his glasses with a warm expression, placing his clipboard down as he approached the other side of the counter to meet you. “How’s life at Nevermore treating you? I didn’t think any students would make it to town with the storm on the way.”
You felt yourself pale slightly at the mention of the storm before responding, putting on a smile to match his. Although you were never very particular about doctors, Dr Kennedy did a decent job at making you feel welcomed in a town like Jericho. It only made sense, seeing as his business catered specially to outcasts. It was lucky that Nevermore had a medical supplier so close to the school anyways.
“Nothing out of the ordinary, honestly; it’s a little chilly but nothing I can’t handle.” You paused before pulling your crumpled prescription from your jacket pocket, slipping it onto the counter for him to see. “I was looking for a refill on my supplements.”
Dr Kennedy adjusted his glasses down the bridge of his nose slightly as he took the paper into his palm, rereading the words. Taking a pen in his palm he re-signed it, turning into the back room as he spoke.
“You're quite lucky you got here in time, Y/N. Our shipment of lupine suppressants came unusually late and with a lot less too; apparently the pharmacist up in Vermont had to deal with some sort of robbery at his place.”
He returned a few moments later with the usual brown paper bag, sliding it over the counter to you as he leant on his elbows, continuing.
“I hear pharmacies aren’t doing too well nowadays. Or at least around here, they’re not.”
You frowned slightly as you reached for the bag, double checking as usual that it was the correct bottle. Spotting the ever familiar green label you stuffed it into your pocket.
“There must be some sort of shortage wherever they’re growing or manufacturing these… probably nothing bad.” You shrugged, not taking notice of Dr Kennedy’s skeptical expression. “Thanks for the pills, Doctor. I appreciate it.”
The man nodded softly and smiled warmly; “good luck, Y/N. I assume you’ll see me in a month or two.” With that he disappeared back into the back room.
You stepped out of the building, looking up at the darkened skies; a low rumble of thunder met your glance, making your skin crawl. Yes, Wednesday had specifically instructed you to wait here until she returned, but there was no way in hell you’d be caught in the rain; besides, she wasn’t in charge of you, was she?
There was a brief moment of hesitation but when you felt a light sprinkle on your shoulder you flinched and immediately made a beeline for the hunting store.
The doorbells clanging over the door announced your arrival to everyone inside and you felt yourself grimace in disgust at the sight of all the different rifles and guns mounted upon the wall, distaste lingering in your mouth. Fortunately there weren’t that many customers; the occasional fisherman here and there but otherwise it was surprisingly peaceful for a hunting store.
As you walked through the stand of furred hats you spotted Wednesday at the counter, speaking with the cashier; a man wearing a Bulls baseball cap and a torn leather jacket. You watched as the raven spoke, recognizing the slight look of impatience in her eye you’d become familiar with lately. Clearly the man’s attitude wasn’t one she was happy with.
“-listen, Miss, I’d love to help you, I really would, but the data we track from our customers is private. We don’t just give it out to anyone, y’know.”
You watched as Wednesday’s grip tightened slightly on her backpack straps as she spoke through slightly gritted teeth.
“My motives are in the pursuit of the school's safety; you’re willing to risk that in order to protect a store policy?”
“Just because Jericho and Nevermore are on decent terms doesn’t mean we’re responsible for each other.” The man frowned slightly as if in slight distaste as he met Wednesday’s glare. “And all that shit that went down last year with the Hyde is over. I highly doubt the safety of the school is at risk.”
“Then explain where the deputies are right now.”
Wednesday folded her arms, her gaze darkening as the man sighed.
“I don’t know everything that goes on in this town, kid. It’s probably just another bear attack up north.”
“How ironic,” you caught Wednesday mutter under her breath as he continued.
“You’re just a high schooler. Even if Nevermore is in danger like you said, I’m not giving just any goth who walks into my store important information. So unless you’re planning on buying something you can leave.”
You weren’t surprised when Wednesday slid a knife across the counter without a moment’s hesitation; the blade was short and straight with a nicked top that looked quite sharp; the handle was a deep black, with silver hints down the sides, making for a tasteful choice of knife. Of course she had good taste in knives.
“I can make it worth your while.”
The raven held up a small stack of bills she had retrieved from her backpack, raising an eyebrow at the employee. He eyed the money for a moment, his eyes narrowing before folding his arms and scoffing.
“I don’t do bribes, kid. Just buy the knife and get out of here.”
Jaw clenched, Wednesday thumbed a bill from the stack and handed it over, placing the rest in her backpack as she took the knife and slid it into her jacket pocket, not bothering to say goodbye as she headed out.
“You’re dreadful at hiding.” Her voice startled you as she paused in front of you, an eyebrow raised. “You’d think a wolf would have a better sense at subtelty.”
“You’d be surprised.” You gave a soft grin of your own as you folded your arms, glancing at the man who was now watching the two of you with a distasteful expression, eyes narrowed as he examined you closely. “Let’s get out of here.”
The two of you were at the door when you were stopped by a hand on your shoulder and you froze, eyes narrowing as you slowly turned on your heel.
“I recognize you.”
“Don’t touch her.” Wednesday shouldered you aside somewhat roughly, but you didn’t mind, you were too busy glaring at the man as you retorted
“Leave us alone. You said you wanted us gone, didn’t you?”
“Yeah, whatever.” He waved dismissively, removing his hand at the sight of Wednesday’s death stare. “But you’re that Lyall kid, right? The one from Vermont?”
“What’s it to you?” You frowned, suddenly hyper aware of Wednesday’s cold hand on your wrist.
“I’d be willing to give that intel your girl was looking for in exchange for some information. I mean, you’re famous after all, aren't you?”
“She’s not my- my-“ you stuttered dumbly as you felt yourself blush slightly, Wednesday’s eyes on you as you fought for words. “I’m not famous, you’ve got the wrong person.”
The guy frowned slightly, examining you for a moment until eventually muttering something under his breath, “not worth it”. Turning on his heel he started to head back to the counter, but Wednesday stepped forward quickly, gripping his jacket tightly in one hand as the other bore the knife she’d just purchased, pointed at his neck.
“If you want to keep your head attached to your body I’d suggest staying away from us.”
Your eyes widened slightly as the man’s eyes widened in shock and slight fear as he gave what little of a nod he could until the raven stepped back, folding the knife in disgust and putting it away as she turned back to you.
“Let’s go.”
-
By the time you and Wednesday had returned to Nevermore a good rain was already falling, the rumbles of thunder now more pronounced through the school’s walls. If not for the umbrella Wednesday had brought just in case you would’ve been soaked.
“That was a waste of time,” you grumbled as you followed her into the dorm the Addams shared with Enid. “Other than my suppressants we got nothing.”
“Not necessarily.” Wednesday pulled her jacket aside, hanging it over the side of her bed as she faced the recently set up investigation board by the window. Thing scuttled out from her bag, perching himself atop the board; in his fingers he held a pair of keys.
A wild grin burst upon your face as you held out your hand and Thing tossed you the keys, speaking with excitement “how the hell did you get these without being seen?”
“Simple diversion. I would’ve thought you’d learned a bit more after all this time.” Wednesday gave a little roll of her eyes as she examined the board; there wasn’t much on it; a map of the woods, a diagram of a shotgun, and a couple receipts. “Tonight would be more than a sufficient time to break in.”
You started to respond with a grin until a crackle of thunder split through the dorm, sending a chill down your spine, fingers tightly gripping the edges of your jacket. Wednesday clearly noticed, as something akin to a frown flashed across her face.
“I still don’t understand how you can fear such a beautifully gloomy sound. Just because it is meant to instill fear does not mean you have to be afraid.” The Addams paced across the room, until she was facing you directly, her dark stare flitting over your shaking form. God you hated the fact that you were shaking. “What will it take for me to get your pitiful shaking to stop?”
You fought for words, at a loss for what to say. You’d never been asked that before. You didn’t notice the way Wednesday’s gaze softened just ever so softly; the way her furrowed eyebrows lifted slightly and her chocolate-toned eyes met you.
You had no clue what she was thinking.
For Wednesday she was left utterly confused at the muddled mess of disgusting feelings sitting in her stomach like a pile of rot. The Addams had no clue how to handle them, especially since she had such a lack of experience with… emotion. You must have cursed her… at this point she was positive that you were the one making her cup your chin, your skin ever so warm on her cool hand as she lifted your head so that you met her gaze. Her usually confident and sure footed mind was left scrambling to remember all do Enid’s advice on comfort.
“If it will get you to stop quaking like a frightened puppy I will allow you to reside on my bed.” Wednesday paused, before her eyebrows furrowed. “Don’t stain anything or I will kick you out.”
The way your eyes faintly brightened made her heart twist; oh god, you weakened her. She most certainly despised you. Another boom of thunder seemed to end any hesitation you might’ve had as the raven watched you scramble for her bed.
Glancing over at the investigation board she spotted Thing, cutting off his tapping as she gritted her teeth - “not. A. Word.”
A quick look back over at the bed confirmed your still shaking form. You were just sitting there, stiff and awkward on the edge of the mattress. Wednesday couldn’t help rolling her eyes as she strode towards her cello case, kneeling down as she muttered, “one could easily think you were a corpse.”
“I’m getting comfortable.” You defended hotly, clearly a little embarrassed. She decided not to mention it, merely pulling her beloved instrument from its casing; settling herself atop her chair she pulled the cello in front of her carefully, tuning it.
“You’re going to play for me?”
Wednesday halted, her fingers freezing momentarily over the knobs as she slowly looked over at you, her eyebrows furrowing. “Of course not. Your phobia of the rain just happened to interfere with my playing time.” She turned back to the pegbox, giving one of the pegs the slightest of adjustments before picking up her bow. She didn’t need sheet music to play the song she desired.
Her bow pulled across the strings as her fingers maneuvered the fingerboard. The haunting melody of “Cello Sonata in D Minor, Op.40” began to fill the room, a deep sense of satisfaction stirring within her as the piece unfolded.
Halfway through the song she noticed you’d fallen asleep, draped in a slightly uncomfortable position over the foot of her bed. Sighing, she reluctantly put down the instrument, standing to step over to the bed.
You didn’t even rouse when she draped a blanket over you.
She was unconscious of the fact that she played her cello just ever so slightly softer when she returned.
-
Taglist:
@idkjustliving2 @alexkolax @tekanparadiae
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mysterycitrus · 3 months
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i saw that user's reply to your jtodd post and wow were they projecting hard, it's one thing to feel a personal connection to a character through your own subjective read on them it's a whole other to act like that's the objective point of the actual character and his storylines
yeah look everyone interprets characters in different ways but i think it’s pretty out of pocket to reply to a meme post and talk about how a character who is explicitly, specifically portraying a radically violent “the punishment fits the crime” ideology is intended to be a competent metaphor for victims of sa? if that’s ur interpretation of that character more power to u, but positing as though that’s reflected in the text to smack down on people who are talking in the tags is pretty wild. that’s not even getting into denying that in fanon dick is crucified to make jason look better, whether it be framing him as the bad brother (to jason and tim) or reframing jason as the independent, powerful, and competent person that dick is established as in canon.
he does act differently in the lost days, sure, but even then he is singularly driven by a personal vendetta. u can make the argument that when he allows himself to actually act morally he can make tangible change — he acts selflessly to protect others. but that is not the norm when he arrives back in gotham.
i really wish people would stop trying to justify jason’s actions when they were never supposed to be justified! acting as if bruce is somehow the same or worse because what… he beats people up and then puts them in hospital? how is that remotely comparable to decapitating people and seizing control of the drug trade? the entire point is that he’s working differently to batman in a way that does not actually change gotham for the better! when the kids of the people he’s murdered grow up they’ll be going to the martha wayne foundation for housing and social support, or to leslie’s for free healthcare. they’re not going to be looking for college scholarships from the guy who shot a bazooka at black mask — and that’s fine! that’s what makes jason interesting as a foil to bruce!!
anyways like i said to rus
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