#but then yeah he came home and just... never spoke of it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

imthebadguyyy · 1 day

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Coming Back Home To You

pairing : steve rogers x reader

fandom : marvel/avengers

synopsis : after a new threat wreak havoc on the team, steve suggests a safehouse with a surprise awaiting them inside.

a/n : inspired majorly by clints house!!

warnings : mentions of mind control and injuries etc. typical marvel stuff

the quinjet is completely silent, apart from the quiet hum of the engine. the entire team is still, dark shapes in the dimly lit cabin, everyone in varying levels of disarray.

natasha sits completely still, eyes staring unseeingly at the large console while a worried bruce sits beside her, combing her short red locks behind her ears. thor sits across from them, hand trembling slightly as it gripped mjolnir, mouth pressed in a thin line.

clint sits on the other end of the space, eyes squeezed shut as his wife spoke softly from the phone, reassuring him the 4 of them were all okay. tony sits a little away from him, his hands gripping his phone, staring at the picture of pepper and him peeking out at him.

wanda sits next to steve, her eyes wet with unshed tears, glimmering in the fading sunshine. steve casts worried glances in her direction from time to time, as he commanders the jet, the coordinates set in as he informs maria about where they're going. bucky sits on the other side, quiet, but not as badly affected as the rest. he had stayed on the jet for the majority of the time.

"i think we need a small break. some time to reset. whatever these things are, we need a break okay?" he says, voice firm. his team is down and he needs to look after them.

"where are you going to take them?" maria hill's voice fills the empty space. "a safehouse. fury knows where" is his cryptic response and she furrows a brow, but decides if fury knows, it's safe enough.

"okay. keep me posted" she replies, and logs off. steve takes a deep breath and wonders how it all went so wrong. one minute they were taking down the hydra base, and the second, they had all been blasted black, minds trapped in a simulation of them carrying out their deepest fears.

even wanda had been caught off guard, and before they knew it, bucky had brought the jet closer and steve was struggling off the ground to get the others back into the jet, back to safety.

they had all remained entrapped, until one by one it broke and they all snapped out gasping and shaking.

the sky is fading, a soft orange shade similar to ripe peaches, streaks of golden sunshine peeking out occasionally, as they sped away from the city, white clouds becoming more and more prominent as they reached the countryside.

after what felt like hours, steve landed the jet in what seemed like an isolated farmland, acres of green land and small dairy farms in smatterings across the area.

"where are we?" thor asked, helping wanda get to her feet. "yeah cap, are you sure this place is safe? it seems deserted" tony said, hiding the slight quiver in his knees.

"it's safe" he confirmed, helping bruce get natasha to her feet. "just have to walk for 5 minutes to the left" he continued, leading the way.

the team followed silently behind, trudging like a pack of kicked puppies, exhaustion laced on every line on all their faces.

"how do you know this place is safe?" clint asked, striding up to catch up with steve. "you'll see" he responded, smiling softly when a large house came into view.

"oh.." clint said, eyes brightening as he looked to steve for confirmation. he gave him a small smile in response.

a beautiful rustic, wooden house stood surrounded by what seemed like never ending green farmland. a beautiful wooden shed stood beside the house, and pretty flower pots and trees trailed around the house.

a beautiful patio was at the back of the house, with a small outdoor fire place and covered in fairy lights and small light bulbs, with a small table and couches.

it seemed to scream homely and comforting,and seemed to exude an aura of warmth. clint took in the place with a smile, noting the swing set and slide in the yard, and assorted collection of children's toys in the backyard.

"what is this place?" wanda muttered groggily, holding onto thor for support. "you'll see, but please wipe your feet on the mat" he said, gently pushing the front door of the house open.

what greeted them was the scent of vanilla and musk, oakwood and patchouli, and the subtle whiff of pinecones. the hallway was bright and sunny, pretty paintings and photos decorating the walls. there were small figurines made of ceramic, that looked hand painted.

as steve turned the corner, natasha noted the way he kept glancing up the long staircase, eyes glimmering with what looked like endless adoration.

"sweetheart?" he called softly, taking off his shield and setting it down on a shoe rack, that looked like it was made for his shield.

he neared the kitchen, the scent of cinnamon filled the air, and thors tummy rumbled loudly.

"steve?" came a honeyed voice, and the team was able to put a face to the voice when a gorgeous woman made her way out from behind the stove. she had eyes that sparkled softly, crinkled in a bright smile as she looked at their captain. she had an elegance to her, an aura of gentility and kindness that seemed to radiata in the brightness of her smile.

she was clad in a soft summer sundress dress, a pretty white dress that was covered in blue flowers, flowing just below her knees. they watched her eyes widen in joy, and rush towards steve, who pulled her into his arms, head burying into her neck, wrapping his arms tightly around her plush waist, pressing soft kisses to her shoulders, before pulling away and pressing his lips to her own, a deep, passionate kiss that took his breath away.

"hi sweetheart" he murmured against her lips before drawing back, suddenly hyper-aware of his team. "you're home!" the woman exclaimed again a soft laugh leaving her lips. "yes I am, and i have a few guests darling, i hope that's alright?" he asked, gently cradling her head in his palm

"uh sure! hi!" you said, waving kindly to the disheveled team. bruce smiled at you, confusion still present in his eyes, while thor and wanda gave you warm smiles. natasha looked at you giving you a once over, before flashing you a weak smile. she decided she liked your kind eyes.

"y/n!" bucky exclaimed, rushing forward to pull you into a tight hug. you laughed, squeezing him, before pulling back to assess him. "hi buck! how are you?"

the super soldier grinned at you, eyes flashing with an odd expression as he shook his head sadly. "I'm okay"

"care to introduce the rest of us?" tony chimed in awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck.

"guys, meet my wife, y/n l/n rogers." steve said, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you in close to him.

"i know all your names" you confessed, playing with the string of your dress nervously as they all said hello softly.

"how long have you been married?" bruce asked, slowly warming up to his captains wife.

"about five years. fury helped me set this up like he helped clint. didn't want her getting involved in the dangers of being married to an avenger. thats why I don't wear my ring around everyone" he said, answering the questions on everyones lips.

"it's nice to meet you" wanda said shyly, and you gave her an encouraging smile.

"why don't you guys go and get changed and bathed? there's three bathrooms in here and a wash room in the shed in case you don't want to wait" you said , going towards the oven to turn it off. "I have some fresh cinnamon rolls and chocolate chip cookies in the oven, and i can have a cold jug of lemonade ready for you by the time you're done getting changed" you said, leaning down to make sure everything was done baking.

"where are my two troublemakers?" steve asked quietly, not wanting to spoil the biggest surprise of all. you smiled, pointing towards the staircase. "let me call them for you-" before you could finish, the thundering of footsteps became audible and you shared an amused glance with bucky.

"daddy!" two gleeful voices filled the air and two blue eyed, pigtailed figures came running into the kitchen, clad in denim dungarees and white shirts.

"hi my loves!" steve said, scooping both his daughters into his arms, laughing when they squealed and kissed his cheeks.

"we missed you!" the girl on the left said, burrowing into her dad. "so much!" the girl on the right completed, squishing his cheeks.

"guys, meet sarah marie rogers and stella jamie rogers" steve smiled proudly, to an awe struck group of avengers who had their jaws on the floor.

"you have children?!?!" natasha said, mouth agape as she stared at the twins in steve's arms. "actual puny little humans?" thor said, eyes as wide as saucers.

clint just laughed, waving to the little girls. stella buried her face in her dad's neck, clearly the more reserved of the two, while sarah waved brightly back at him.

"uncle bucky!" sarah exclaimed, reaching for the man who took her with a laugh, spinning her around. "hello little angel! I've missed you!" he laughed, ruffling her hair softly.

you watched your daughter's reuniting with their father, a soft smile on your face. how you had missed him!

"well, I guess captain america's got more than just his shield to protect now! who knew old cap could multitask? i wonder if he still gives the 'I can do this all day' speech during diaper changes." tony chimed in, smirking at steve.

you laughed at the comment, shaking his hand warmly. "yeah he does sometimes" you smirked, earning a look of betrayal from your husband while wanda and clint laughed.

"woah you're black widow!" sarah said, looking wide eyed at natasha. "you're my favourite avenger!" she exclaimed, earning a chuckle from the assassin, who raised her hand up for a high five.

"whose your favourite?" clint asked stella, his fatherly instincts kicking in.

stella mumbled something softly, still holding on to her daddy. "tell him sweetie, thats hawkeye, remember i told you about him?" steve urged gently, softly pushing his daughter's long locks away from her eyes.

"my favourite is thor" she mumbled, eyes widening as she took in the asgardian. steve watched as the god visibly melted, a bright smile on his face as he strode over to the little girl.

"it appears that i am the mightiest avenger in the eyes of the smallest mortal! dear child k if you require any tips on wielding a tiny hammer or battling bedtime monsters, you know who to call. i humbly acclaim myself your immortal servant" he said seriously, holding out his large hand for a handshake.

stella just turned away, shy and flustered at the hulking avenger before saying a soft "okay" earning a laugh from bucky.

"she's just a kid thor" bruce said, looking up from the paintings around the room. "did you guys paint these?" he asked, looking in awe of the paintings. "daddy did some and we did some" sarah responded, still happily snuggled in her uncle's arms.

"wow" wanda said, examining one of a field of tulips. "which one of you painted this?" she asked, looking over at you. "me" a shy voice responded as stella spoke up. "oh you're so talented!" wanda said, voice still soft. she related to this quiet child, and felt an immediate connect with her.

"t-thank you" she said, offering her a sugar sweet smile. "do you want to see my other paintings and crafts?" she asked, slowly clambering off her dad's lap, and walking carefully over to the sokovian.

"I'd love that!" she said, leaning her hands towards the little girl, who took her hand in her own.

"uncle bucky, do you want to help me build my trampoline?" sarah asked, arms looped around his neck. "sure sweetheart, we can do that".

"darling, let's let them all get comfortable first okay?" you interrupted, smiling when your younger twin (sarah) came bounding over to you for a hug.

"okay mama, I'm gonna go and show stella and auntie wanda some of my drawings too!" she said and she was shooting off like lightning again, but not before hugging her dad's knees and saying "i love you daddy!" again to steve.

as the team dispersed to the various bathrooms, steve led you up to your bedroom, closing the door behind you two.

"my sweet baby, I've missed you so much" he said, advancing towards you, cupping your cheeks in his hands, tugging you close, forehead resting gently against yours.

"I've missed you more. are you okay? how come you're here?" you asked, brushing his sandy blonde locks away from his forehead.

his blue eyes clouded over and his grip on you tightened. "i thought i-" his voice broke and you immediately wrapped your arms around him, hearing him take a deep stuttering breath.

"there was this new hydra variant. some element of mind control. I saw you and the girls...lying here... cold and..." his voice broke and he pulled back, thumb grabbing your chin to yank you into a kiss.

he needed to feel you. to physically feel and make sure you were alive and right there with him.

"I'm right here steve, right here my darling. I'm okay, the girls are okay. and were all right here." you chanted like a mantra, stroking his hair.

he pulled you into a kiss again, messy, teeth and tongue clashing, hands roaming your waist, hips and finally resting in your hair and one hand on your waist.

"i love you" he murmured, eyes never leaving yours as he leaned back. "i love you more" you whispered back, slowly pushing him to sit down. "let's get you changed honey" you said, drawing a warm bath as you slipped into the bathroom.

steve took a deep breath.

it was all going to be okay.

he was finally home.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

a/n : let me know if this should have more parts!! was thinking of one with multiple scenarios of them bonding together, explaining their names etc etc! let me know!! I'm always open to chat too xoxox

happy reading!! ♥️

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all writing - @roslastyles420 @hopefulinlove @bluesongbird-blog

marvel -

to be added to the taglist send me an ask or a dm specifying which fandom 🩷

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moon7jay · 2 months

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TEMPTATION (p.js)

best friend!jay x fem!reader

Warnings : non consensual, dubious consent, manipulation, smut, loads of masturbation, jay is a freak, anal sex, obsessive behavior, mentions of violence, Morally gray plot and characters obviously, read at your own risk. Not proofread, there might be some errors.

Wc : 8.6k

a/n : reblogs and feedbacks are appreciated so much, please, please don't hesitate to tell me your thoughts, it makes my entire day<3

Candid.

You were too candid for your own good.

Jay doesn't remember when it started to get this bad. you have always been someone who spoke their mind, but he never expected to be witnessing it first hand, and definitely not like this.

As he watches you deep throat the popsicle, your glossy lips wrapped around it so deliciously,the lustrous sheen reminiscent of morning dew on rose petals; he thinks he's in one of his wet dreams. The gloss you're wearing today is not the same as yesterday; they're both shades of dark red but Jay can tell the difference. How? Don't ask him. It's not like he spent most of his time staring at your lips or anything. He isn’t obsessive (he is). He most definitely doesn't look up the same glosses you wear online, or order them to use them for some ulterior motives. so yeah, don’t ask him why or how he can tell what the raspberry red on your lips tastes like.

Your twinkling eyes meet his, the ice pop coming out of your mouth with a loud squelch, and you smile.

"What do you think?" you ask, and Jay doesn't remember what you're asking, or what you were talking about before that pink popsicle came into the picture.

He stares at you dumbly, eyes transfixed on the allure of your saliva coated lips. Oh, he so badly wants to-

"Jay, are you even listening?" your voice interrupts the not so decent direction his thoughts were headed in.

"Huh?"

"I'm asking you, what do you think about my throat game?" your eyes shine, and Jay gulps.

This. This is exactly what he's been dealing with for the past few months.

You both have been best friends since sophomore year, and he understands that as people get closer, they start sharing all types of thoughts and secrets. Even the most intimate and inappropriate ones. Right?

Wrong.

Because jay doesn't remember sexual questions and indecency being a bonding activity among best friends. Sometimes he wonders, do you even consider him a man? Because what man is immune to these sinful thoughts, no matter how hard he tries? Were you really that unaware of the impact your words have on him or did you do it on purpose?

Jay just wasn't mentally prepared for this phase of your friendship. He blames it on his sex crazed brain.

"It-it's good" he mutters, praying that you don't notice the shakiness in his voice. or the reddening of his ears. or the sweat trickling down his neck. or the way he keeps the cushion tightly situated on his lap. Oh fuck it, there's no way you don't notice.

You giggle. You giggle, and the sound goes straight to his chubbing up cock.

"thought so, I've been practicing you know? Heeseung is so lucky, I don't even have a gag reflex" you excitedly brag about your sexual prowess, and Jay can't feel his legs. In fact, all his focus is zeroed in on one place, just like the blood rushing to his dick.

His fists clench at the familiar name and he grits his teeth to stop the throbbing in his jaw.

If Jay's life was a coming of age comedy, you were definitely the main character, and heeseung; even thinking of his name leaves a bad taste in jongseong's mouth, would be your potential love interest. Matter of fact, he seemed to be everyone's love interest.

Jay tho? He wasn't even a supporting character. You just kept him around.

You had pranced into his life in sophomore year, all wide smiles and bright eyes. When he had moved away from his home for college, he had accepted the fact that he would probably spend all of his college life alone.

Because, one, jongseong was awkward. And two, jongseong was awkward.

His awkwardness stemmed from having two friends for most of his life; they were the only two people he could talk to like a normal human being. So, when he left them behind, he left his ability to make proper conversations with them.

But you didn't need him to talk. Nope. You did all the talking for him.

He'd been minding his business, cramming up the notes for upcoming end sem exams , when the chair beside him had been pulled out and you had plopped on it in all your glory. He remembers that you had smelled like ripe cherries, and it didn't take long for jeongseong to get addicted to that fragrance.

Extrovert adopting an introvert, was the basic description of your friendship with him.

But he doesn't know where his obsession with you fits in the dynamic, doesn't know where his need to inject you in his veins stems from.

"Y-yeah, H-he's so fucking lucky" he admits, eyes shaking. He knows he sounds nervous and distressed, but if you notice, you don't mention it.

He watches as you smile proudly and go back to sucking on the popsicle, without a single care in the world. Your red tongue pokes out to lick along its length, before you start suckling on its tip.

oh, how he wishes he was that godforsaken popsicle.

It happens again on a leisure evening. Jay had rented out the movie you so desperately wanted to see, but somewhere in the middle, you got bored. Honestly,he should’ve sensed it coming; from the weary sighs leaving your lips, to the way you were reclined on the couch, it couldn’t have been more obvious.

"It's so hard being single I swear, my fingers don't do it for me and i am so fucking frustrated right now "

Jay thinks he has developed hearing impairment. If not that, then maybe brain damage, because he's sure he's making this all up in his head somehow. there's no way you're talking to him about masturbation right now. This has to be one of his lucid dreams, there's no way you're that comfortable around him.

oh but you are. Your eyes rest on his, curious, inquisitive, as if waiting for a response. But jongseong has lost his ability to formulate coherent sentences.

"Oh" he blurts.

that's it. That's all that he can come up with.

It's an essential mercy that you don't particularly seem to care for his response, just needing a signal to rant more.

"Yes. oh. and i swear Jay, sometimes I'll try to get my fingers in there, but it's so fucking tight and they only go half way in, it's so frus-"

Jay tunes the rest of the conversation out. His mind latches onto the word "Tight ". His throat becomes parched and his palms sweat profusely where they rest against his thighs. His eyes travel down your body, drinking you in. The moles on your collarbone are so fucking tempting, he wonders if someone has told you this before. The way your skirt pools around your thighs has him gasping for air, too much skin, his palms itch to grope.

He feels like a fucking creep, because the creases on your forehead and the heated movements of your hands as you emphasize your point, makes it clear that you are just rambling.

He's your best friend and you're sharing your issues with him, like normal friends do. except Jay is not normal. At least, not when it comes to you.

He knows that you've not had much experience, knows that you've never even been fucked good, and he can't stop his imagination from running wild as he pictures you under him right now. Right on the couch that you've got your pretty ass seated on.

He wonders what your cute moans sound like, wonders if you're a screamer, or do you like to deep throat on fingers to keep your voice down. Wonders what your face looks like when you're cumming. Wonders if your nails will scratch his back red while he stuffs you full of his cum, or will you beg him to pull out.

he shouldn't be having these thoughts and yet, he just can't help it.

"What about you?" you ask, disrupting his inner monologue.

"Me?" he falters, shifting a little, sneakily adjusting his aching length.

"Yeah, are you getting some? or do you just jerk off like other losers? " There's a teasing glint in your eyes as you ask him the most intimate question one can ask someone.

Jay chokes on his own saliva. Thankfully, before he can muster up the courage to stutter an embarrassing attempt of an answer, your phone rings and you're making your way out of his house. A family emergency, you tell him, and Jay can't even bring himself to ask you about it, his mind too preoccupied with the conversation you both just had.

What would you have said if he had told you about all the girls that he fucks, imagining that they were you? Would you have been disgusted, or would it turn you on?

or about all the nights he spends wanking off to your most innocent pictures on his phone; would you think he's creepy, or would you ask him to show you how?

He can't help slipping his hands inside his pants once you're gone, can't help the pathetic moans that fall from his lips while he imagines how 'tight ' you must be. Fuck. Would you clamp around his throbbing length? would your cute little pussy suck him right in?

His movements get faster, more desperate, palms getting slick with how much precum he's leaking as he jerks himself off to the thoughts of your cunt. He flicks his wrist, the friction of his rough palm against his sensitive dick driving him insane.

He needs it, he needs you.

His grasp on his leaking cock becomes firm; tighter, wetter, softer, your thoughts send him right over the edge just in a few more dreamy strokes. The act of cumming inside his boxers is so fucking filthy, the wet spot forming on the front of his pants being a testament to his perverted desires.

"fuck, fuck baby" he groans, gulping harshly while he comes down from his high, his cum covering his palms and thighs , some of it splattering onto his stomach.

God, if only you could see him right now. If only you knew what a mess you make of him.

You're drunk.

He can see it in the way you're starting to slur your words, the sentences no longer making any sense. Your eyes are glassy and droopy, almost on the verge of passing out. He should stop you. He should snatch the bottle away from your wobbly hands and yet.

He doesn't.

Maybe if he was a better man, he would have, but jay is not that man.

Jay watches you take another swing and anticipation builds up in his chest. You're unaware, blinded to the fact that he came here with a purpose tonight; multiple bottles of rum, the particular brand that gets you groggy in a few sips, the game cards, the setting, everything was planned.

When you told him that your roommate was gone for the night, he saw the perfect opportunity to set his sick scheme into motion. And like the naive little girl that you were, you didn't even question him about his odd idea of getting drunk on a weekday, or why you were the only one getting drunk while his glass sat untouched between you both.

Your head lulls to the side ,and within a few seconds, you plop onto your back, mumbling a few intangible words, spread out on your bed like a fucking feast.

Jay inhales harshly, his tongue flicking out to lick over his dry lips. He looks around frantically, as if someone can see what he's about to do. As if someone can peek into his sick and twisted mind. There's no one here though, and his patience is running thin.

Jay crawls over your limp body, his dark eyes devouring you, memorizing every feature up close. Your hairs are splayed around your head like a halo, some strands falling onto your forehead. your lashes flutter slightly, still in between the phase of being passed out and somewhat awake. Your luscious lips keep mumbling words that he's sure even you don't understand. there's a red flush on the apple of your cheeks, enhancing the contours of your face, and Jay just wants to take a bite.

His hungry eyes travel lower,drinking your beauty in like a famished man, watching in rampant awe at how your chest rises and falls, your tank top giving him an eyeful of your soft cleavage. well damn.

His throat bobs, taking in the way your tank top rides up your stomach, exposing your entire midriff to his lustful eyes. You're so, so innocent like this, so naive. How could you trust him so easily? He was a man, it didn't matter that he was your best friend,he was a man regardless.

you really have zero survival instincts.

But Jay is glad that it's him and not someone else. Jay would never harm you, Jay would never do anything wrong to you. He just wants to love you.

His hand moves instinctively, and he's groping your soft thighs, eyes flickering up instantly to watch you with a bated breath. When you don't show any signs of waking up, his movements get harsher, his hold sliding up,grabbing a handful of your ass. A groan falls from his lips at the feeling of your soft skin against his rough palms, his dick hardening inside his pants. Your shorts are too thin to leave anything to the imagination.

Before he knows, his hands are roaming and exploring your curves freely, caressing every inch of your naked skin that he can find. God you're so soft, so fucking soft. He doesn't overdo it tho, doesn't grab you as harshly as he wants to, aware that he can't leave any marks. He leans down and bites on your lower lip inadvertently, eyes closing in delight when your taste overwhelms his senses. You're sweeter than he imagined, and he automatically presses further into you. He moves his lips, tries to kiss you, but your lack of reciprocation irks him to no end. Fueled by his desperation to taste you, his hand comes up and he's cupping your plushy cheeks, making your mouth pucker up like a fish, the little peek of your red tongue from inside drives him up the fucking wall. Without thinking, he dives in, his tongue meeting yours, licking into your hot mouth messily, slurping in your saliva like a freak.

It's too much, the feeling of your body so close, your taste, the fact that this was wrong on so many levels, it all just added up to his arousal.

He trails his lips downwards,kissing and licking every inch of your tempting flesh.

As if a switch is flipped inside his head, Jay pulls back hurriedly and unzips his pants. his hands shake on the zipper, high from the adrenaline coursing through his veins. His dick throbs against his boxers, begging for some sweet relief. His breathing is deep, the fact that he is finally about to act on his perverse fantasies hitting him hard. As he pulls his leaking dick out of the confines of his boxers, shoving them unceremoniously down to his knees, he leans back over your figure again, supporting himself with one palm resting beside your head.

He hisses painfully through his teeth, the feeling of his palm wrapping around his cock being too much.

Jay wants to see your pussy, god, he wants to taste it, he wants to fuck it till you're screaming, but not yet. He knows his limits. He knows that once he gets a peek of the treasure you hide between your legs, he might not be able to stop himself from pounding your limp body into the sheets; and so he controls the itching in his loins, resists the temptation. That can wait for another day. Right now though, he just wants to cum.

He pulls down your tank top impatiently, exposing your bra clad tits to his starving eyes. Lace, of course you wear lace.

"fucking slut" he grunts. Fuck, the way your boobs spill out of the cups, your nipples peeking through the sheer fabric makes his dick twitch. Without further ado, He wraps his palm around himself and starts stroking.

"fuck baby, look at what you do to me" he groans, leaning down to kiss your plump cheek, nuzzling his nose into your warm flesh.

His bottom lips is tucked between his teeth, his grip tightening around his leaking shaft, moving his rough palm up and down languidly. As much as he wants to take his time enjoying your body, he knows he can't take a risk. On top of that, he's too pent up to be able to drag this out, he can already feel the familiar tingling in the pit of his stomach. Too good,everything feels too good.

He whines as his thumb rubs over his engorged tip, the pleasure driving him insane.

"are you tight baby? fuck, I bet you're so fucking tight, would make my dick feel so good won't you?" He gasps into your skin, brows furrowing as his movements become harsher, faster. His abs flex and his hips jerk forward into his tight fist, imagining it's your pussy that he's fucking into.

“god it feels so good to finally fuck my fist” he pants, his warm breath fanning your flushed face.

His thighs tremble and he leans his body into yours, pressing himself flush against your unsuspecting figure. He slots his throbbing cock between your plush thighs and starts humping against you eagerly. He just can't help it. It's all your fucking fault.

"Mhmm, baby, baby, fuck you feel so good" He whimpers, fingers digging into the fat of your waist, nose buried inside the crook of your neck, breathing you in. You smell so fucking intoxicating, and he feels his sanity slipping away. God, how he wishes he could thrust inside of your wet heat right now. How he wishes he could jerk his cock off using your tight little cunt.

Its getting wet and messy, the squelching sounds coming from his cock moving back and forth against your flesh are downright filthy.

A strained moan slips from his throat and the knot in his stomach tightens. He's so fucking close.

Jay gathers a copious amount of saliva in his mouth and spits in his hand, rubbing it all over his dick, lubricating it for more pleasure, flicking his wrist faster.

"wish I was inside you right now, look how hard you make me baby, gonna cum so much f’ you-mhmnp-fuck-fuck" His whines become louder, groans get breathier, indicating the approach of an impending orgasm.

The heat inside his loins becomes unbearable and he needs contact. Direly.

Naked skin, soft flesh rubbing against his sweaty body while he jerks himself off, that’s exactly what he craves. He lets go of his cock momentarily and strips his shirt off, throwing it aimlessly across your room. He pants while he slides your bra down your chest, letting your boobs spill out in the open. The sight so lewd, he could come from this alone.

His pupils dilate, sweat trickling down his neck in effort and desire. he leans forward and presses his nipples against yours, hissing harshly, gasping in pleasure at feeling his naked chest rubbing against yours. Is this what sex with you would feel like? Sweaty bodies rutting against one another, chasing carnal pleasure?

Jay pants, and starts to jerk off furiously, wanking his dick like a mad man, palm moving back and forth while he thrusts his tongue inside your open mouth again. A groan escapes his lips, it really does feel like he is fucking you.

"God I wish you could see me right now baby, using your body for my pleasure, just like it's supposed to be" He grunts into your mouth, coating your lips with his saliva.

His hand picks up speed, he's so fucking close, his hips jerk into his own touch, chasing that friction like an animal in heat.

"God yeah, oh fuck yeah baby, gonna cum so hard for you" He groans, squeezing his eyes shut while he spurts long strings of cum onto your naked skin, hot pants fall from his mouth into yours. He squeezes his dick, tugging at it a few more times, cumming so much that it doesn't seem to stop.

"oh fuckk yeahhh, just like that" he moans, rolling over and falling onto his back beside you, rubbing his dick raw. He pumps himself shallowly, milking himself for all that he's worth, his breathing getting slower, sighs of contentment falling from his lips.

Fuck. That was so good.

He looks over at your mess of a body and quickly gets into action, getting dressed haphazardly and adjusting your clothes while he tries his best to clean every drop of cum from your skin and clothes.

The next morning when you whine about a headache, he pretends to be worried, and when you hiss in pain, telling him that there's a painful redness in your inner thighs, he tells you that it might be from your sheets rubbing against your soft skin, and that you should probably buy new ones.

If his dick twitches as he remembers rutting in between your flesh like an animal in heat, that's between him and God

Jay is thoroughly convinced that he's losing his goddamn mind.

With each passing moment, He can feel himself descending into madness.

Nothing feels good, nothing feels worth it, time thoroughly stops if he's not constantly touching you or moping around you.

After that night, he did not get another opportunity to have you alone, and it was promptly causing havoc in his brain. It was fucking him up from the inside.

He wonders if you notice the lack of proximity between your bodies every time you both hang out together lately. But if you do notice the small lingering touches he leaves on your skin here and there, you don't mention it.

"fuck, j-just shut the fuck up" he growls, pushing the woman's head further into the pillows while he continues to plow her from behind.

Ever since he got a taste of you, Jay has found it harder and harder to find pleasure in anything or anyone else. He fucks and fucks but deep down, he knows that no pussy can ever feel like yours.

The cunt wrapped around him is warm and wet, it feels good, making hot pleasure run across his abdomen, but every time he feels his high approaching, the glaring realization that this isn't you underneath him, hits him hard. Fuck.

Jay grits his teeth and closes his eyes, remembering the taste of your soft lips on his, reminiscing the addicting feel of your nipples pressing into his hard chest; his hips pick up pace. He's fucking the woman underneath him brutally, her screams echo in the entire room, her body flailing to get out of his grasp; but Jay can't seem to stop.

"G-gah God just-take it" He groans, hissing in relief when the knot in his stomach snaps, his hips plowing at an animalistic pace, riding his high against the warm pussy in which he's buried.

"fuck fuck fuck" He chants, sighing in hot pleasure, eventually loosening his grip on the slut's body. As soon as he does tho, she pushes him off of herself, turning to him with tears streaming down her red face.

"You're a fucking animal you know?" She spits, sniffing and sobbing as she limps to her feet, his cum running down one of her legs. She collects her clothes and throws a dirty look over her shoulder towards him before she leaves.

Jay scoffs and runs an exasperated hand over his sweaty face. Refusing to acknowledge the elephant in the room. All that talk and she didn’t even satisfy his dick.

What the fuck is happening to him? This type of aggression isn't typical of him and yet, he can't seem to control his emotions in the heat of the moment.

Before he can get immersed too deep into his self reflection, his phone rings, your face glowing like an angel on his lock screen.

You. The bane of his existence.

His dick twitches as he swipes right.

"Jongieee" you squeal, going on a tangent about your eye contact with heeseung across the hallway. The visible vein in jay's forehead throbs, as if all the blood's being pumped through that one particular artery in order to give him the strength to cope.

He's going to fuck heeseung's pretty face up. The rage that fills him up at the thought of another man touching you is insurmountable. It wasn't always like this. But somewhere in the middle of your budding friendship, the dynamic shifted drastically.

At first it was a stupid crush, he thought he was in love with you. But he isn't so sure now. This isn't love, no. This is beyond love. A vile, dark version of it. This is an obscene obsession. Jay is fucking obsessed with you. The need to attain you weighs heavy on his conscience.

As he hears your voice, he focuses on the sweet melody and drowns out the words. This makes the throbbing in his dick return ten fold.

He wraps a shaky hand around his slick shaft and starts to stroke it. Real nice and slow. Just how he likes it. Just like he knows your small hands will do to him.

He bites on his lower lip to prevent any sounds from escaping, and he continues to jerk off to your voice. The veins running along his cock throb in his tight grip, the swollen tip squirting precum onto his moving palm.

"Hmm yeah? Tell me more" he whispers, hoping that you don't notice how breathy his voice sounds, or how pure lust drips from his panting breaths.

The slick squelchy sounds from his palm moving up and down his leaking length echo loudly in the room. A part of him wishes that you catch him in this filthy act, relishing in the surprised and scandalized gasp that would leave your lips when you realize what he is doing.

Fuck.

His hand picks up pace, his second orgasm getting closer and closer the more that your sweet voice rings in his ears.

"Jay?" you ask, obviously confused as to why he hasn't said a single thing yet.

Jay, on the other hand, mutes his side of the mic and groans loudly.

"fuck yeah baby, say my name" He whimpers, his hips thrusting up into his tight fist.

He's jerking himself furiously now, closer, closer, he can taste the sweet release at the tip of his tongue,

"Yeah, shit y/n, make me fucking cum" his mewl fades into a high pitched moan as he shoots thick strands of cum after cum into his own fist, watching with hooded eyes , how it spurts everywhere, his abs contracting at the immense force.

God you drive him batshit crazy.

He hangs up on you, ignoring your voice calling out to him, not trusting his own voice enough to talk to you like a normal person, right after he wanked off to you like a perverted freak.

He shoots a quick message to you in explanation tho, getting his cum all over his screen in the process.

"can't hear you, network issue I think. Call u later?"

Later when Jay lets the hot water of the shower run all over his spent body, his mind drifts off to you and the events of the last few months.

He needs to fuck this madness out of his system, he decides.

Maybe once he gets his dick inside of you, he might be able to get you out of his mind.

You look beautiful.

You always look beautiful, but something about the way that tight little red dress hugs your curves tonight has every man in the room salivating. You're like a piece of meat that's dangling in front of a pack of hungry wolves. And Jay is sure that he's the hungriest of them all.

When you had called him that afternoon, your voice sweet and pleading, begging him to accompany you to yeonjun's party, he didn't know what it would entail.

"Please, please come with me Jay, you know it's my best chance at getting heeseung to notice me" your words had been whiny, travelling straight between his legs.

He had clenched his jaw and hummed in response, not having it in him to refuse your offer. As much as it enraged him that you would take another man's name when he was right there, he also knew that his time would come.

"I love youuu, you're the best" you had squealed, making his heart do weird flips inside his chest. Yeah, he was the best. And he was going to make sure that you knew it too by the end of the night.

He's sure he's drooling, eyes tethered to the way you grind your hips on the dance floor.

It's sexy, you're so fucking sexy. Your lips are stretched into a small smile, as if you know that all eyes are feasting on you. He loves how you thrive in it, loves how you're eating up all the attention.

What he doesn't appreciate tho, is the sight of heeseung's figure making his way towards you on the dance floor. Jay's body works faster than his brain, his nostrils flaring as he makes his way towards heeseung, red hot rage propelling him forward.

Sweat trickles down the valley of your breasts and the air feels stuffy. You need a drink. Right now.

You're mildly disappointed when you don't find heeseung anywhere in sight, all that show that you put on, and for nothing?

You sigh dramatically and make your way to the kitchen, recognizing jay's hunched over figure in the corner, doing God knows what.

"Jay? " you call out to him. His figure freezes upon hearing your voice, he turns his head to meet your eyes and shoves his hand inside his pocket without a second's delay. His behavior makes you furrow your brows "what?" you ask him incredulously. Why was he behaving like a child who'd been caught sneaking where he shouldn't be sneaking.

He shrugs his shoulders and turns fully to face your approaching form.

Jay knows that he's staring, but he just can't help it. Not tonight.

You pick up the drink from the counter and swirl it, looking around the kitchen, scrunching up your nose adorably at the intense make out session near the sink.

Jay follows your line of vision and almost groans. Did you have any idea, how badly he wanted to recreate that scene with you.

"Where's heeseung?" you question, your curious eyes looking back at him.

Jay hopes you don't notice the way his jaw immediately locks up, his mood dampening at another man’s name. Jay likes you best when you’re calling his name, he decides.

"He left" He quips, reaching for a drink with his free hand that isn't buried inside his pocket in a meticulous manner.

You look at him heatedly, and Jay sighs.

"He left, or you made him?" your voice is angry, irritated when you ask him that, and Jay feels his own anger flare up at your tone.

Not wanting to cause a scene, he grabs your hand and drags you inside the bathroom instead, grateful when you don't resist.

The way you free your wrist from his grasp to create some distance between you two, is what he doesn't like.

"What did you do?" You demand, folding your hands across your chest, pushing your boobs up in the process. Jay's eyes flicker down to your beauties and the heat in his head travels all the way down to his groin. He needs to have you, now.

You watch in horror as Jay retrieves his hand from the pocket of his pants. The cuts and bruises all over his knuckles make you gasp. Your hands fall to your sides and you look up into his eyes disbelievingly.

"I-w-why? Jay? What the fuck is wrong with you?" you ask, disbelief and anger making way for concern.

"You! you are what's fucking wrong with me!" Jay bellows and it makes you flinch, terror filling up your viens , because this isn't your Jay. Your Jay was calm, and so, so quiet.

Raging eyes look into yours as he stalks towards you. You don't see it coming when he cups your cheek in his hands and thrusts his tongue inside your mouth. Your hands come up to bang against his chest but it only propels him to pull you further into his chest. Fuck, it feels so fucking good when you move against him.

You whine while his tongue tastes your hot mouth hungrily, forcing it deep inside the crevices of your cavity.

Mustering up all the strength that's left in your body, you push him away, heaving heavy breaths as he stumbles back by a few steps.

Your watery eyes look at him in horror and disbelief, refusing to believe that your best friend just forced himself upon you.

"You're insane" you whisper, your voice hauntingly quiet.

He pulls your body closer to himself and kisses you again, diving into your taste desperately "for you, so fucking crazy for you" he murmurs between kisses, continuing to make out with you, making a mess at how forcefully he sucks your tongue into his mouth.

You hit against his chest, thrashing your body in his hold. He pulls back a little and rests his forehead against yours, his eyes are crazed as they look into yours. A string of saliva connects your mouth to his famished one.

"Let me fuck you" He pants.

His words hit you like a slap across the face. What the fuck.

Your head feels dizzy, too much was happening for you to process. Using all the force you could, you push him away from you again.

"Stop acting like this jay!" you cry, just wanting your best friend back. But from the looks of it, he's nowhere in sight.

No, no, no. This can't be happening to you

"Come on, you know you want this" Jay hisses, malice dripping from his eyes.

Your lips wobble and you can do nothing but shake your head, it lolls on your neck lifelessly. You want to say something, but words feel foreign, as if not knowing how to bend your tongue to make the syllables sound quite right.

The bathroom is a tight space, not much expanse for you to run or hide. You see the door from your peripheral and it gives you some hope. If you can get the door to open up in time, you can scream. Maybe someone might hear you through the bass boosted music thrumming in the house.

You stumble back a few more steps but before you can stretch your hand towards the bathroom door, he pounces on you, a sharp whoosh leaving your mouth as your back thumps against the wall behind. He buries his nose inside the crook of your neck, gliding it's slope across the expanse of your soft skin, humming in desire.

His hands run all over your body, cupping your boobs through your dress, making you mewl as he twists your nipples painfully.

"it's about time we had sex baby" he whispers in your ear, biting and nibbling on your earlobe sensually.

"J-jay p-please think about this" you plead, your voice small and frightened, tremors covering your entire figure when he starts to unbuckle his jeans impatiently.

"Think? Oh sweetheart, you have no idea how much I've thought about this do you? " His eyes stay on yours, maintaining eye contact while his fingers unzip his pants. Jay had forgone boxers, too impatient to take his time undressing. His sole purpose was to get his dick inside your stomach tonight.

"This is all I've been thinking about for the past year baby, your cute little cunt is all i fucking think about" He grits.

His dick plops out of his pants, hitting his abdomen, smearing a blob of precum on his happy trail. Your eyes widen and water further, little sobs start to wrack your body. Your eyes take in the view of his uncut cock, curving upwards in sexual need.

"Too big?” he asks, tone mocking your deer caught in the headlights expression, his body presses closer to yours while he works to slide your tight little dress up your thighs, exposing your panty clad pussy to his eyes , fuck yeah.

“I'll make it fit" he groans, running his fingers over your vulva, pinching your clit in the process. You sob and start flailing in his hold, your fists coming up to hit against his chest.

"Jay please, please,no" your voice shakes urgently when he tears your sheer panties apart in pieces, his tongue coming out to lick over his dry lips.his eyes are wide and unseeing, they terrify you.

"Fuck, this pussy has been driving me fucking crazy" he pants, taking a hold of his dick and running it's bulbous head along your slit, coating it in his precum. His eyes come up to momentarily look in your terrified ones and he bites his lower lip, gaze famished and hungry, drinking up all your reactions.

He pops his head in between your silky folds and his knees buckle at the delicious feeling, his free hand coming up to rest against the wall behind you, as he cages you against it.

"fuck, you're tight, gonna have a field day forcing myself inside" he tuts, amused.

His words make you sob, an inexplicable heat spreading across your pelvis when he bullies more of his throbbing shaft inside, satisfied moans leaving his mouth in stuttering gasps.

He wraps your leg around his waist and without warning, buries himself inside your cunt in one harsh thrust, doubling over in pleasure.

"Oh fuck yeah baby, shit" He growls, resting his forehead against yours, his hot breaths falling on your wet cheeks.

You wail and scream but Jay doesn't stop moving, your small fists do nothing to deter his movements, his hips starting to pick up pace instead. His brows furrow in pleasure and he moans into your mouth, urging you to cry more as his cock pumps deep inside your guts.

"Tight little slut, this is what you fucking wanted didn't you? Fucking cock tease" he hisses, throwing his head back in extreme ecstasy, pounding his hips rapidly into yours. The feeling of your nails scratching the skin of his neck makes him groan in pleasure.

"Yeah baby, you wanna fight? let's fucking fight like this" He whispers silkily, grabbing your ass in his big palms, groping your soft flesh painfully, digging his own nails into it.

"h-hurts so much Jay, stop please, p-please" you sob, tears blurring your vision, the stretch from his cock being too much for your tiny little pussy. The way your nails dig into his shoulders, you're sure that if he was naked, you would break his skin.

Jay scoffs and presses your body further into the wall, snapping his hips faster into yours, fucking desperately into your wet, hot cunt.

"Yeah? But your cunt is sucking me in baby, looks like you like what we're doing"

You throw your head back at his words, unable to stop your hips from gyrating against his thrusts. Pleasure was starting to cloud your mind.

"fucking finally, feels so good to be buried in this pussy, should have forced myself in it a long time ago" He pants, taking your lower lip in his mouth while he increases the intensity of his rut. You moan into his mouth when he digs his teeth in your plump flesh, his actions barbaric.

The squelching sounds start filling up the small cubicle, the filthiness of the whole act only working to fuel your desire more.

Before you can get submerged in pleasure tho, Jay pulls out of you with an embarrassing ‘plop’ and forces you to your knees instead; ignoring how you hiss in pain at the feeling of the rough tiles scraping against your bare knees.

He penetrates your mouth with his cock and starts fucking, plowing it like it's your cunt, moaning and groaning in pure pleasure.

You dig your nails into his thighs but he ignores your pleas to breathe, pushing your head further against the wall instead. He digs his fingers in your hairs and grinds his hips into your plump mouth, his dick hitting the back of your throat mercilessly.

"God yeah, just like that, jerked off so much to you baby, suck my dick like you fucking mean it" His whiny voice travels straight between your legs and you moan. The vibrations of your throat make his dick twitch inside your mouth and he pulls out with a groan.

He rubs his cock head against your lips and buries himself to the hilt inside your throat again, pressing your nose against his pubes while his cum filled balls slap against your chin.

The lack of gagging makes him chuckle in disbelief “no fucking gag reflex, god your throat is just like a fucking cunt”.you mewl and rub your thighs together at his words.

"Fucking hell, should have done this before, we could have been fucking so much" he grouches, kneeling down and forcing your body onto the floor. It's a tight fit, but jay doesn't seem to care. He folds your body in half and thrusts inside your pussy again. His movements are so impatient and hurried, you aren't used to being desired this way.

"mhmnm yeah, pussy feels so good" He growls, his hold tightening further around your legs that rest against his shoulders and he starts to rut into your tight heat again. This time it's more desperate, downright filthy. He's panting on your face, letting a string of saliva drip from his mouth into yours when he sees your mouth open in a silent scream. You choke on it and he laughs, condescending, hissing through gritted teeth.

"Get used to this baby, we're gonna be fucking so much after tonight, gonna keep my cock buried in your fuck hole" he groans, bullying his cock into your hole over and over again.

You wrap your arms around his neck and start grinding into him, staring back into his eyes to let him know that you want this.

His eyes widen upon feeling your hips thrusting upwards, humping his cock, hot pleasure running down his spine.

"Yeah baby? fuck, you like this? fucking slut, you did all of that on purpose didn't you? wanted to drive me fucking crazy for this pussy?"

You nod in pleasure, all rational thoughts leaving your mind. All you know is, that his dick feels a little too good when it rams against your cervix.

You are close, way too close, your body convulsing in carnal lust as your orgasm washes over you all of a sudden.

Moan after moan of his name falling from your red bitten lips.

He laughs as he feels your cum trickle down his thighs, drenching his balls in your juices.

"fucking slut" He moans, throwing his head back as he enjoys the clenching of your throbbing cunt on his leaking shaft.

He feels himself close to his high, but he doesn't want this to end. Not yet.

Jay pulls out and rests his back against the wall, patting his thigh for your spent figure as you lie on the floor.

"Come sit on it " He breaths, his voice strained due to how much effort it takes for him to not start jerking off to the sight of your sticky cum running between your pussy lips.

So fucking hot. He wants to obliterate your pussy.

He watches with hooded eyes as you get up on your knees and crawl towards him, eyes trailing down to his hard dick. Jay groans at your hungry gaze, fuck yeah. You want him. You want his dick.

This singular thought forces him to wrap his palm around his leaking prick. Your eyes widen and a small mewl escapes your lips as you watch him stroke his length slowly, wet sounds resonating between the space between your hot bodies.

Jay bites on his lower lip and starts to stroke faster "yeah you like this? This is how I jerked off to your thoughts baby, rubbed my dick raw every night, imagining it was your pussy instead of my fucking hand" He pants, cupping his balls with his other hand, the double stimulation driving him insane.

The sight in front of you is so lewd, it makes your pussy drip. The way his pants are not all the way off, resting against his ankles, hanging on him unceremoniously is so hot, your cunt clenches around nothing.

Without a single thought, you close the gap between your bodies, straddling his lap while you maintain a hungry eye contact with him. He looks famished as he watches you replace his palms with yours, tugging on his throbbing cock a few more times before you guide it to your wet hole.

"Yeah baby put it in, come on, put my dick inside" He groans, his hands coming up to wrap around your waist, pulling you down onto his length impatiently. You both let out gasps of pleasure when his dick slips inside, buried in you balls deep.

"f-fuck" you moan and he hums, throwing his head back in pleasure. The itch in your pussy starts to intensify and your hips start moving on their own, looking a way to satisfy it.

"Yeah, ride it, ride it like you fucking want it" he moans, thrusting up into your hole. You gasp and hold onto his shoulders, slamming yourself up and down on his shaft. The sex feels too good. So hot and so messy. It makes you wonder why you were resisting it in the first place.

Your hot, sweaty bodies rutt against one another desperately, feeling your highs approaching at a rapid pace.

"Bounce on it baby, come on, make me cum, wanna fill this pussy up" He pants, digging his nails into your thighs as he begins thrusting up at a rapid pace. You squeal at the sudden action but bury your face inside the crook of his neck in pleasure. Too good. Fuck it's starting to get too hot.

Desperate gasps escape his lips when your cunt starts clenching around him again, he's close, so close. Fuck yeah. He can’t believe he is finally gonna cum in your cunt, and just the thought of it was enough to make the knot in his stomach snap.

"Just like that, oh yeah, oh fuckkkkkk" he growls, humping upwards as he holds your body down and squirts his cum into your womb, thrusting rapidly into your swollen pussy, making you cum again.

You moan and whine when he doesn't stop moving, his hips pick up pace without break and your head gets dizzy. The over-stimulation getting to your head.

"can't stop fucking, let's do it again yeah? let me pound this cunt again I'm so fucking hard"

Before you can protest, he is flipping you around, pressing your body against the bathroom floor, your boobs squished against the cold tiles. The tiles were so dirty, probably because of the number of couples before you both, who couldn't wait to get down and dirty. You wonder, how many people fucked in this cubicle before you, and your back arches on its own. You feel his body mounting you and he envelops your sweaty body with his meaty arms.

You gasp upon feeling his thumb prodding at your asshole, dipping in and out experimentally.

"Jay not there please please I've never-" your begging gets cut off with a shrill scream as his entire head bullies inside your sphincter.

Jay's eyes roll back in pleasure and he moans, the sound so pornographic that it makes hot lust run through your womb.

"fucking hell baby, it's tighter than your pussy, gonna fuck it so hard"

Your legs flail but Jay doesn’t stop dicking you down, he thrusts his entire length inside your virgin hole and groans in ecstasy, it is the tightest hole he's ever been buried in. His hips start moving, plowing into you at a rapid pace. He puffs and huffs like a dog in heat, the stimulation around his dick pushing him closer to the edge again. Your hole stays tight as a clamp around his meat.

You, on the other hand, wail in pleasure mixed with pain. It hurts, it hurts but God does it hurt so good. His balls slap against your ass cheeks painfully.

Skin slapping sounds fill up the bathroom and you push your ass back against his dick, moaning and bucking back, needing it deeper inside your stomach.

"That's right baby, fuck back on me, gonna cum so hard again" His plaintive groans indicate his arousal, lust drips from the frantic movements of his hips.

He thrusts inside you wantonly, his desire to nut overpowering all other senses.

The desperate rut and stimulation of your hole sends you tumbling over another orgasm, your legs quivering as you come with a pleasured moan, chanting his name in a prayer.

The tight clamping of your two sphincter muscles on his fully engorge cock send jay over the line. He bellows loudly, cursing and grunting as spurt after spurt of his pent-up sperm paint the inside of your fuck hole

Finally satiated, Jay falls onto your limp body, kissing your earlobe, mumbling lazily about how he's gonna fuck you again and again till he erases heeseung's name from the forefront of your mind.

You don't tell him that there is no heeseung anymore. You don't tell him how every cell of your body only craves his touch now, aching to be plowed by his dick alone.

#enhypen hard thoughts #enhypen #enhypen smut #enhypen hard headcanons #enhypen hard hours #enha #jay smut #park jay smut #jay enhypen smut #jay enhypen #ehypen scenarios #enhypen imagines #enhypen jay smut #park jongseong

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shellshocklove · 3 months

Text

lover, lover, lover | joel miller

pairing/AU: 70s!pornstar!joel miller x inexperienced!female reader

summary: after blurring the lines with your boss and pornstar joel in pismo beach, what happens when you come back home to LA?

warnings: this is an 18+ fic so mdni! reader is 23, joel is in his early 30s, accuracies and inaccuracies about the 70s and the porn industry, smoking of cigarettes (it's the 70s alright), misogyny (bc of the times™), swearing, use of pet names, oral (f+m receiving), use of sextoys, handjob, praise kink, soft!dom joel but also a hint of sub!joel, porn, degradation, no use of y/n

a/n: this is the part 2 to this fic. you should read the part 1 first or this will make no sense lmao. i know it's been months since i posted that one and i've gone back and forth a lot on if i was gonna write a second part, but here it is <3 again i wanna give a big thank you to my beloved @dustydaddyyy for encouraging me every step of the way, listening to me when i feel lost, and for reading through everything. i love you babes!!! <3

main masterlist / series masterlist / ao3

You jolted awake.

With a groan and a confusing squint, you sat up on your elbow. The back of your hand rubbed roughly at your eye as you looked around your darkened bedroom. The fan on your dresser huffed and swirled, blowing cool air in your direction with every pass – blowing away the memories of your dream.

You turned around to lay down again when you heard it. A distant sound of your phone ringing in your hallway. You let out another groan as you scooted out of bed, your nighty falling around your knees as your feet met the carpet floor. Shuffling down the hall you muttered a quiet “I’m coming, calm down,” to the phone.

You lifted the phone of the hook with a quiet, “Hello.”

“Did I wake ya, sweet girl?” the static voice answered.

“Joel, what time is it?” you sighed into the phone, your arm hitting the cool wall as you leaned against it.

“Um…” he started, probably checking his watch, “02.05.”

“Yes, you woke me up…” you told him, eyes tired and falling shut before blinking open in quiet panic, “Wait– did something happen? Why are you calling so late?” Fear squeezed around your heart, wrapping its cold hands around it as flashes of Joel getting arrested, or kidnapped… or something worse, played like a movie in your head.

“No,” he laughed, “No, sweetheart! I just couldn’t sleep.”

“So, you decided to wake me instead? You are aware we have a meeting with VCA tomorrow at 9am? I told you that didn’t I?” Two fingers pinched the bridge of your nose – trying to squeeze the sleep away.

You usually never forgot any of Joel’s meetings or commitments, and you prided yourself in staying on top of his schedule. You could swear you told him about the meeting the other day on the way back from Pismo Beach.

Pismo Beach.

You hadn’t seen him since you dropped him off. Two days had passed. Two days since… Since you’d had sex with Joel. Two days since he told you he wanted you to be his. Was Joel your boyfriend now? You couldn’t tell.

“Yeah, you did, you’re a good assistant,” he said, the smile evident in his voice.

The praise wrapped itself around your heart like a pink cloud of love – it made you smile.

“Thanks,” you whispered, your quiet voice making him chuckle down the other end.

You waited for his chuckle to die before you asked him, “Um… was there anything else?”

“You tired of me already, sweetheart?” he teased.

“No, never,” you shook your head, “it’s just late.”

“I know, I’m sorry baby,” the way he said it, he left the words hanging in the air.

A second passed in silence, and then another. You waited for him to say something else, but when the words never came you spoke, “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Can I come over?” he almost cut you off, his words hanging at the end of your own like a teenager on a skateboard gripping tightly to the back of a bus.

“Tonight?” you asked, front teeth digging into your bottom lip.

“Yeah, now,” he clarified, “my car’s fixed– I can be there in probably… thirty minutes?”

“Ehm…” your head bumped against the wall. Thirty minutes? It wasn’t that you didn’t want to see Joel – you did – but it was so late, and you had to get up so early tomorrow.

“Maybe twenty if I speed,” he laughed.

“Joel,” you chided, a smiled tugged at your lips.

“Okay, thirty,” he relented.

You pushed off the wall, a finger curling around the phone cord. “If I say yes you have to be sneaky– and quiet. My landlord doesn’t allow boys to visit.”

“Good thing I ain’t a boy then, sweetheart.”

You snorted, teeth digging into your lip to kill a smile from blooming, “I’m serious, Joel! A girl got evicted last month because she got caught having her boyfriend over.”

“How’s that even legal?” his static voice wondered.

“I don’t know Joel, my landlord… she’s this old lady– super religious and she owns the whole complex– I think she inherited it from her late husband who was a developer or something. Anyway, every time I bump into her, she always questions me about if I have a boyfriend and then gives me this speech about how premarital sex is a sin, and how I’ll go to hell–”

“Shit, baby– move out,” Joel cut you off.

“I can’t,” you sighed, “It was the only place I could afford when I moved here.”

“Ain’t I payin’ you enough?” he teased, “I’ll talk to Ronald about a raise f’you want.”

You let out a chuckle, “I’m not sure it’s appropriate– or professional, to talk about this now, Joel.”

“Alright, baby– always so professional,” he playfully chided, “we’ll talk about it tomorrow.”

You let out a hum, though a small knot tied itself in your stomach at the thought. You didn’t want Joel to get the wrong impression; that you wanted a raise now that you’d let him fuck you.

“See ya in 30?” he said, breaking the static silence, “I’ll be real sneaky.”

“Ok,” you said softly.

You told him your address, making him repeat your apartment number back to you before you hung up. You didn’t want him accidently knocking on the wrong door, and getting you evicted.

Padding back into your bedroom, you grabbed your silk robe hanging off the door. You twisted it around yourself while you turned on the lamp over your bedside table. The light bathed your room in a soft glow. You were starting to wake up a little now. Leaving your bedroom door ajar you walked back down your hallway with soft steps. Stepping into the kitchen, you grabbed a mug from your cupboard, busying yourself with making a cup of tea as you waited for Joel.

Thirty minutes later, you heard the buzz of your doorbell. Abandoning your cup on your kitchen table, you quickly hurried to your door, buzzing him in. Your heart hammered in your chest. The risk of getting caught so late on a Sunday night was low, but you could never be too careful. You waited for him in your doorway, your finger picking at your nail bed as you looked out for him to round the corner.

You breathed out a relieved sigh when you saw him, a smile widening across your face as he picked up his pace in a small jog. His grin was wide as well, all teeth and crinkles as he closed the space between you. With a small glance over his shoulder, he made sure he hadn’t been caught as you ushered him inside.

The light in your hallway was low, tinting everything in a warm yellow hue. His hands were on you in an instant, strong hands gliding over your waist from behind as you locked your door. In the next moment you felt his chest press against your back, locking you to his body in an engulfing hug. His nose dragged down the column of your neck, pressing sweet kisses into your skin.

“Hi,” he mumbled.

Leaning into his touch you hummed out a greeting. His grip tightened around you before he turned you around in his hands, your hands automatically wrapping themselves around his neck. God, he was handsome. Soft brown eyes shining under the soft light, you watched as they took you in, traveling down your bare face, down to your silk robe hiding your nighty. A sting of embarrassment panged in your chest under his gaze, maybe you should’ve changed into something else, something a little sexier. Then you realized what kind of sexy he was used to, sheer lingerie, stockings, garter belts and high heels, not whatever underwear you were hiding away in your drawers.

“Shit,” he whispered, eyes blown wide in the low light, “let me kiss you properly, sweetheart.”

His big palm cupped your cheek, bringing you closer before he brushed his lips over yours. He tasted like a mix of his last cigarette and beer. You didn’t realize how much you’d missed his touch, his lips against yours. Joel hummed into the kiss, nose bumping into yours as he held you close, thumb ghosting over your skin. The kiss was quick, but still tender, and when you broke apart, the embarrassment from earlier had faded.

“Missed your lips baby,” he whispered against them, emphasizing his words with another peck.

“You did?” your voice was breathless, eyes half lidded from his affection.

He didn’t answer, only catching your lips in another mind-blowing kiss. His hand not on your cheek traveled from your waist to the curve of your ass, where it squeezed. You jumped a little from his touch, breaking his kiss. Immediately Joel removed his hands, catching himself as he took a step back.

“No?” he asked, eyes searching yours.

A flood of warmth filled your chest, “No, it’s okay– it’s just… late.”

His eyes softened at your words, his palm finding your cheek again to softly rub his thumb over your skin, “I’m sorry.”

You shook your head, “It’s okay…” you trailed off, your hand grabbing his other hand to intertwine your fingers, “Let’s go to bed?”

With his hand in yours Joel trailed after you down the hallway.

“The bathroom is just in here if you wanna use it?” you stopped at the end of your hallway, pointing to your closed bathroom door. Joel gave you a short nod and a smile, and let go of your hand, but not before giving it a little squeeze.

You stepped backwards to push open your bedroom door while he vanished to your bathroom. The alarm clock on your bedside table showed 3.08 in big red letters when your eyes flickered to it as you pulled at the strings of your silk robe. You twisted out of it and hung it back on the hook on your door, before you climbed back into your bed, waiting for Joel.

He walked into your room a few minutes later. You watched him from under the covers, eyes hooded with tiredness as he shed his clothes. Naked, safe for his briefs, he haphazardly folded his clothes, eyes flitting around your room for a place to put them.

“You can just leave them on the dresser,” you said, all cozy under the covers.

Sending you a small nod he sauntered over to your dresser with his clothes half-folded in his hand, where he placed them down gently. He stood there for a moment longer with his back turned, something catching his eye.

“So,” he spoke up, “what’s the review?”

“Huh?” You were confused.

You watched how his shoulders shook, grabbing something off your dresser before turning around, hiding it behind his back as he closed the space between you. You were still confused, a furrow pulling at your eyebrows.

“What d’ya prefer? This,” he started, revealing what he was hiding behind his back, “Or the real thing?”

In his hand he held the box with the dildo he’d modeled for. You’d forgotten all about it in your back seat while you were in Pismo Beach, only noticing it again as you’d parked outside your apartment. You had been meaning to give it back to Joel, didn’t take his ‘joke’ of you keeping it at face value, but then you’d forgotten all about it, leaving you with no choice other than to bring it inside.

“Joel,” you felt a flash of heat burn your cheeks.

“What? I wanna know,” he grinned, fingers fiddling with the cardboard to open it.

You gave him a chastising kick from under the covers, trying to shut the conversation down, but it only made him huff out a laugh.

“I don’t know, I haven’t tried it,” you said truthfully. The thought hadn’t even crossed your mind.

“What? Not even once,” his eyebrows knitted together, he almost looked disappointed.

You shook your head, “I was gonna give it back to you when I dropped you off on Friday, but it slipped my mind.”

“Why? I gave it to you,” he pulled the dildo out, the supposed perfect recreation of his package.

“Joel, you couldn’t have been serious about that?” you breathed out a laugh. It was hard to take him seriously with the toy in his hand.

“Well, now I’m a little disappointed, sweetheart,” he placed the box and the dildo on your bedside table, next to your alarm clock, “I really wanted to know your thoughts.”

He crept up the bed as you shifted over to make space, holding open the duvet for him to slip under.

“I’m sorry, Joel– I just didn’t think you were serious about that… and,” you trailed off when he wrapped his strong arms around your body, twisting around in his arms as he pulled you close against him.

“And, what?” he said, his breath huffing against the shell of your ear.

“I… uh, I haven’t… since,” you didn’t know how to say it.

But Joel knew, pulling you closer to rock his hips against your ass, “Haven’t what, sweetheart? Touched yourself?”

He wasn’t hard, but he wasn’t not hard – you could feel the semi he was sporting against your backside. It made you lose your trail of thought, as memories of the last time he held you against his body like this, filled your mind.

You had enough sense to shake your head, not trusting your voice to come out as words and not a strangled moan.

“No?” he teased with another rock of his hips, “Well, I have, sweetheart– touched myself thinkin’ of you.”

“Joel,” you couldn’t fight the whine from escaping as he rocked his hips against you again, his big hand slipping under your nighty.

“Touched myself thinkin’ about this beautiful fuckin’ body of yours,” his hand splayed over your tummy, traveling upwards to grab at your breast. “Thought about these pretty tits,” his voice got lower, whispering in your ear as he flicked a finger over your nipple, making you sigh. He let go of your breast, hand gliding down your body to ghost over the hem of your panties, “And this tight little pussy,” he finished.

“Joel,” you sighed, body reacting automatically to his touch. His breath in your ear sent goosebumps down the whole of your body, and a whine fell from your lips as he palmed your heat over your panties, feeling your arousal starting to soak the cotton.

“Yes, sweetheart, say my name as I touch your pussy. Tell me who’s makin’ you feel good.”

Fuck, it took all your strength to gather your thoughts, “Joel, it’s–” you let out a gasp as his fingers found your clit.

“What, baby?”

“It’s– It’s late,” you managed to breathe out.

And just like that, the spell was broken. His hand slipped from your cunt to rest over your waist. You twisted around to face him, a pang of guilt filling your chest.

“I’m s-sorry, I just–”

He cut you off by pressing his lips against yours in a quick kiss. “Don’t you apologize to me,” he said, eyes boring into yours, “If you ain’t feelin’ it, I ain’t feelin’ it, okay?”

You felt yourself nod, your chest filling with gratefulness. You wanted Joel so much, you did, you wanted him to feel good, but you didn’t want it at 3am when you had to wake up in four hours.

“Thank you,” you whispered gratefully, your forehead falling against his.

He shifted his face, cheek brushing against your forehead until you felt him press a kiss to your skin. “Nothin’ to thank me for, my sweet girl.”

You shifted closer to him, cheek boring into his naked chest, “It’s not that I don’t want to,” you told him, “I’m just so tired.”

Pulling you closer to his body, Joel wrapped his strong arms around you, “’s okay, baby, you just close your pretty eyes, okay?”

You nodded against his head before you whispered, “Good night, Joel.”

“Night, sweet girl.”

“Hey,” you felt a nudge in your side pull you from your dream, “How d’you turn off this thing?”

Then you heard it. Your alarm. The beeping was loud and obnoxious, but it did the job to wake you, usually.

With heavy limbs you sat up on your elbow, goosebumps spreading over the newly exposed skin as you leaned over Joel’s body to press the snooze button. His big hands found your waist when you leaned back, guiding you to straddle his body.

His lips found yours in a soft kiss, then another before he mumbled, “Good mornin’,” against your lips.

He didn’t give you the chance to reply as he pulled you into yet another kiss. It took you by surprise, your hand coming up to press into the pillow next to his head, to hold your weight. Under the duvet you felt his hand travel down your body, slipping under the hem of your nighty and dragging upwards, cupping your ass as he pulled the fabric with him. His touch ignited something in you, making you whimper against his lips.

“There she is,” he whispered, pulling away from your lips with a loud smack to press kisses along your jaw. It made you sigh, your body going lax in his arms as he pulled you closer, mind going blank from his loving. Then he suddenly tightened his arms around your body, his strong hand splaying over your back as he flipped you around to lay on your back beneath him. A small yelp fell from your lips at the sudden movement, the yelp turning into a giggle when he dived into the crook of your neck, his mustache tickling you as he pressed small kisses against your skin.

With a hasty hand he balled the fabric of your nighty in his hands, pushing it up your body to reveal your naked body to him. He sucked a breath through his teeth at the sight, eyes hungry with lust as they raked over your form.

“Need to fuckin’ taste you, sweetheart.” His voice was a low rasp, coated in residual sleep and arousal, “Been thinkin’ about how sweet you taste this whole weekend.”

You couldn’t hold back the whine at the back of your throat at his words, hips bucking by their own accord where he had your legs splayed open over his thighs. Arousal spread like electricity through your body, where it pooled like dripping honey in your tummy.

“Please,” you begged when his fingers found the hem of your panties, his pointer finger dipping beneath the band to run it across your skin.

“Yeah?” he coaxed, “Want me to eat your little pussy, sweet girl?” his finger stretched at the elastic, letting it slap against your skin as he pulled away. Under him you whined, frantic hands finding the back of his neck to pull him closer to you. In your hurry to kiss him, you missed his mouth, clumsily bumping your nose into his instead.

It made him breathe out a shallow chuckle, “Okay, baby, okay. I’ll take care of ya.”

He pulled back from you, your hands around his neck falling to your sides, and softly hitting your mattress. Grabbing at the soft flesh at the back of your thighs, he spread them wider, putting your covered cunt on display for him. His eyes drank in your body, studied how soft and pliant you’d gone from his touch.

You watched his face, his eyes, his lip twitching with a wicked smile when you jumped under his finger, starting to press slow circles down on your covered clit. He dipped his finger lower, caressing your folds over the fabric before he pressed two fingers into your covered hole as far as your panties allowed. You could feel how soaked you already were, your dripping cunt fluttering around nothing when he pulled back.

“Let’s get you out of these, huh?” he said, voice dripping with pity, “My sweet girl’s just beggin’ to be touched, ain’t she?”

To your own surprise you managed to peep out an answer, “Yes.” Your voice came out strangled and begging, your mind clouded over with Joel.

“Yes, that’s right, baby, you’re such a good girl, let me hear you.” He hooked his finger under the elastic, tapping your ass lightly. You lifted up off the mattress, helping him drag your soaked panties down your legs.

Under him you felt your mouth drop open slightly, watching him as he clasped your panties in his hand, his thumb rubbing at the wetness with a cocky smile tugging at the corner of his lips. With his thumb coated in you, he dropped your panties, losing them in the sheets as he brought his attention back on you.

His eyes bored into yours as he lowered himself between your legs pressing soft kisses against your inner thigh. His big hands splayed over the back of your legs, pushing them closer to your chest to putt your naked and dripping cunt back on display. You held your breath as you waited for him to finally touch you where you wanted, but then he hesitated. The air was charged with arousal, his breath fanning over your throbbing clit. A thought of how you might die if he didn’t touch you soon, crossed your mind.

With a desperate whine, your hand tangled in his hair. You didn’t know what to do, so you begged, “Please, Joel?”

His eyes found yours immediately, where he saw how much you needed him, but he needed it in words, “Y’want me to touch you, sweetheart? To eat your pussy?”

“Yes,” the words fell from your lips so fast you almost cut him off, “Please,” you added for good measure.

Your consent was all he wanted. He dipped his head to lick ever so gently at your clit, making you mewl under him, a needy desperate sound, begging for more. When he wrapped his lips around your clit, and sucked, that’s when you turned into a withering moaning mess under him, hips bucking into his mouth, chasing more of the pleasure he was giving you.

Joel hummed against you, the bass of his voice vibrating against your most sensitive spot, pulling you deeper under the blanket of pleasure.

When his hand loosened its grip around the back of your thigh to caress your folds, a moan got caught in your throat. “P-please” you stuttered, dying to have his fingers split you open and coaxing you towards your release.

But Joel removed his fingers, continuing to explore you with his tongue instead. He dipped down, tongue lapping at your folds, tasting your arousal like he told you’d he’d been dying to. With one fat lick up the length of your pussy he took your clit back in his mouth, going back to lapping and circling it just right, coaxing you closer and closer.

“Fuck.”

You were hauling quickly towards your orgasm. Your eyebrows twisted together in a tight frown, fingers gripping and tugging at his hair, your leg close to shaking with the intensity. You were right there on the edge.

Then he abruptly pulled away. The disappointing mewl escaped you on instinct, and Joel laughed. Laughed. Your heart twisted in on itself at the sound.

“W-what?” you muttered, confusion painting your features when he sat up.

Joel grinned down at you, a mischievous glint in his eye as he leaned down to your face and cupped your chin, his thumb rubbing your skin with tenderness.

“Want you to be good f’me, sweet girl, can you do that?”

Your head moved in his hand, a timid nod as you searched his face. “I–I can be good.”

His grin widened, all teeth and crinkles around his eyes. He squeezed your cheeks together lightly, a small pout forming to kiss away.

“Good girl.”

His mustache tickled your cupid’s bow, and you could taste yourself on his tongue, taste how desperate for him you were.

He left you breathless when he pulled away, your body all loose and pliant from his touch, not registering what he was doing until he was back to sitting between your legs. Your eyes raked over his body, his broad shoulders, trailing his happy trail down his torso to his waist, noticing the shape of his hard cock in his briefs, a wet spot staining them where the head was.

Fuck, you wanted him inside you.

Then you noticed his hands, and what he was in them. The dildo, of him. You shifted up the bed in surprise. Your nighty fell down over your chest as you sat up on your elbows, watching him with wide eyes.

He watched you too, turning the dildo in his hand to nudge at your entrance as he leaned forward to hover over your body, a big hand on your chest pushing you down.

“Are you gonna be good?”

“Joel,” you gasped, feeling your hole flutter in anticipation.

“Are you?” he pressed, rubbing the silicone head slowly up and down your folds, coating it in your arousal.

“Y-yeah, y-yes,” you nodded, face heating from the obscene slick sounds of your arousal.

With a wicked grin, his eyes flicked back to your aching cunt, before he pushed the head inside slowly, feeding your more and more until the dildo was buried inside you. A broken moan fell from your lips, mouth dropping open from the pleasure of being stretched.

“There you go, sweetheart. ‘s big stretch, isn’t it? Doing so good for me, my good girl, honey, my good fuckin’ girl.”

He pushed the toy in and out in shallow thrusts, working you open around the fake cock. It wasn’t the same, but still the stretch was divine. With his eyes glued to your cunt he pulled the dildo all the way out, only the head notched at your entrance, before slowly thrusting in all the way. You whimpered when you felt him nudge at your spot inside, your hand desperately grabbing for his other arm to anchor you from falling over the edge too soon.

“Joel,” you whimpered, “P-please, t-touch m-my–”

Joel picked up his pace, fucking you faster and deeper with the dildo, the obscene squelching sounds of your cunt filled the air between your moans. His grip tightened in your hand, guiding it to hover over your clit.

“Touch your what, honey?” He teased, pressing your fingers down, guiding them in tight circles.

“Ah– fuck,” you whimpered, eyes squeezing shut as you felt the coil in your tummy tighten, and tighten, and tighten.

Then it all became too much. With a broken cry you came, squeezing hard around the fake cock. Joel continued fucking you, a small gush of liquid pouring down over the toy with each thrust, as you pulsed and squirmed around it.

Catching your breath, you came down from your high, while small jolts of pleasure crashed over you, making your legs shake like a leaf in a storm. It was like your ears were ringing, before you realized they were actually ringing.

“This fuckin’ alarm,” Joel muttered, hovering over you to turn it off.

His voice brought you back to earth, as you turned your head to look at the time. Shit, you were gonna be late!

With shaky hands you glided your hand down your cunt to grab at the base of the toy still inside you, “Joel, we’re gonna be late for your meeting,” you murmured, slipping the dildo from your cunt. Everything was sticky and messy between your legs, a big wet stain growing under your ass.

Joel pushed your hand away, like he was scolding you for touching what was his. “We can be a little late, sweetheart,” he said calmly, before ducking down to press a kiss to your clit.

You shifted up the bed, away from his touch, anxiety an endless spiral in your tummy. “No, we can’t, Joel– They told me it’s a pitch for a new movie, you’ll miss out on a big opportunity if you don’t show.”

Between your legs, Joel’s head dropped to your chest, as a pained sigh left his lungs. He went quiet for a beat as you watched the messy curls at the top of his head, then he lifted his head to look at you, “Okay, then.”

You felt bad leaving him hanging as you both got out of bed, his rock-hard cock strained desperately against the fabric of his briefs – just dying to be touched.

“Joel, I-I’m sorry,” you closed the space between you, snaking your arms around him.

“Sweetheart, ya need to stop apologizin’”, he placed a dry kiss to the top of your head, steady hands finding your waist. Your heart swelled in your chest. He made you feel so safe.

You almost muttered another ‘I’m sorry’, before catching yourself, “Okay,” you nodded against his chest. You basked in his touch for another minute, his strong arms around you, breathing in the comforting scent of him – the intoxicating mix of his faded cologne, cigarettes and sex.

“You were enjoyin’ it though, weren’t you?” Joel asked as he pulled away. You could see the cheeky smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he looked down at you, “So tell me, sweetheart... it better’n the real thing?”

“No,” you said, your own teasing smile tickling your lips as you detangled yourself from him, and turned around to head towards the bathroom, “Real thing’s better.”

Suddenly you felt his hands on your hips, and then Joel was pulling you back against him. He pressed himself against you so you could feel how hard he still was, his aching cock barely contained by his briefs.

“Attagirl,” he half-whispered, half-groaned into your ear, breath fanning over your neck and making you shiver.

“I need a shower,” you said with a giggle, stepping away from him before turning around again, only for Joel to pull you close once more. He found your eyes, his hands barely loosening their grip on your body. You could still feel him against you, his hard cock now pressed against your stomach. “Do you… maybe,” you bit down on your bottom lip, wide eyes searching his face.

“Wanna shower with you?” he helped you with a grin, and you nodded.

Your shower was cramped, too small to fit two people, and even though you had been the one to ask, you still felt nervous under the streaming water. He looked so good; your eyes couldn’t help but trail the water droplets racing down his thick muscles. He watched you too, but more openly, his eyes not afraid to trail down your body – to glide over your tits, down your back, and over the curve of your ass.

And then there was his cock, still hard and leaking, making its presence known between you like a third person. What made it worse was that he didn’t even acknowledge it, just went about washing his body like nothing, pushing back his wet curls as he rinsed your shampoo from his hair.

Did he want you to say something? The thought fluttered in your stomach.

“Um, Joel?” your voice echoed against the tiles.

You watched as he tipped his head forward from under the showerhead, eyes blinking at you as soapsuds hit his broad shoulders and ran down his chest.

“You know– um… I can–”

Jesus Christ! Could you be less sexy.

When he didn’t say anything, you breathed out a nervous sigh, eyes flitting down to his cock, hoping he would take the hint.

And he did.

“You wanna touch my cock, sweet girl?” His whole demeanor shifted.

“Would that– would that be okay?” you said, your teeth catching on your bottom lip.

“More than okay, sweetheart,” he said, with a devilish grin.

You took a few steps closer, a shaky hand landing on his waist while the other hovered between your bodies, right above where his heavy cock twitched in anticipation.

You didn’t know what to do. Well, you did. You’d seen it enough times at work to know, but you’d never actually done it before. Another reminder of just how inexperienced you were when it came to all of this. You looked at him with uncertainty, for guidance, and without uttering a single word, Joel knew what you were asking.

He curled his fingers around your wrist, bringing it up to his face, and spat. Using that tender grip he guided your hand down between your bodies again – the back of your hand brushed against the rough hair of his happy trail – and down to the base of his aching cock.

“There ya go,” he whispered as your fingers wrapped around him, Joel’s spit smearing over his shaft as you moved upwards in an experimenting stroke, “Good girl, just like that,” he hissed through his teeth.

You tilted your head to watch his face. Watched how his eyes were so fixated on your hand wrapped around him as you began to slowly stroke his cock, familiarizing yourself with the weight and feel of him in your hand. You didn’t miss the way his breathing shifted, releasing a sound you’d never heard come from his lips before. A whimper.

“Am–am I doing okay?” you asked, your eyes following his down to your hand wrapped around him. He was so big in your hand, your fingers struggling to meet around the girth of him.

He hissed out a strained laugh. “Yeah, baby, you’re doing so good– massage the head for me a little,” Joel groaned.

You did as you were told, bringing your hand up to the tip with a tug, squeezing out a pearl of precum. It dripped down over your hand, your thumb skating over the sensitive head, and smearing it all over.

“Shit,” Joel hissed, “keep doin’ that, sweetheart, bein’ so good f’me,” he praised, encouraging you.

You’d never seen Joel like this before. So at your mercy– at anyone’s mercy – always the one to take charge. But now he was falling apart from your touch. He encouraged you further as his breath got heavier. You sped up the strokes over his cock, and his body slumped into yours, face buried in the crook of your neck, as he whispered breathy babblings of praise into your skin. A glowing feeling of pride grew in your chest as you brought him closer and closer to his release.

“I’m close, baby,” he whimpered in your ear, “don’t fuckin’ stop.”

So you didn’t.

With your hand tight around his cock, you quickened your pace, tracing your thumb over his slit just like he’d told you to do earlier. A slick noise of spit and precum echoed against your bathroom tiles. His thighs tensed, his hand grabbed at your waist to pin you to his body, and you knew he was right on the edge.

“Fuck, I’m comin’.”

With a string of praising curses, he came apart in your hand. His thighs clenched, his heavy balls tightening as cum spurted from his tip in ribbons over your hand. The bass of his voice vibrated against your skin, as you continued working him through his high, slicking up your hand and fingers even more.

You squeezed him until there was only a small dribble pearling at his tip. A white stream of cum ran down his cock and down to his balls, dripping down onto the tiles of your shower floor. And then it was too much, and Joel hissed, lifting his head from the crook of your neck to dab your hand away.

He didn’t say anything, only grabbing your face with both hands, crashing his lips against yours in a desperate kiss. With your hand messy from his release, you didn’t know where to touch him, opting to grab at his elbow with your other hand to steady yourself.

Out in the hallway, your phone rang, forcing you to breathlessly pull away. With a sorry smile, you ran your messy hand under the showerhead before quickly pulling at the shower curtain.

The phone rang loudly as you tiptoed down the hallway. Water droplets ran down your skin, leaving a trail of dark spots on the carpet. Your hand clung to the towel you’d wrapped around yourself while the other hurried to answer the phone.

“Hello?” you sang.

“Hi, sweetie, it’s your uncle,” a gruff voice answered.

“Oh, hi,” you said, leaning against the wall.

Down the hall your bathroom door opened, steam framing Joel’s body as he stepped out naked as the day he was born, with a towel resting over his shoulders. His heavy cock soft between his strong thighs– it was like a scene straight out of a porno, one he’d probably starred in. He caught your eye, and smiled, making his way towards you as he brought the towel up to dry his hair, his biceps flexing with the effort.

“What was that?” you stuttered, completely missing what your uncle had said on the other end.

“Almost hung up on ya, I said,” your uncle repeated.

“Sorry, I was just getting out of the shower.”

“I was just calling to say I’m driving a Corvette down to LA in a couple of days for a client. Was thinking I’d take you out to dinner– catch up– make sure you’re not getting up to any trouble down there,” he laughed.

His tone was lighthearted, but you couldn’t help but cringe. The trouble in question reaching his hand out to trace a drop trailing down your exposed collarbone, ducking down to place a teasing kiss to your skin.

“D-dinner sounds nice,” you managed to choke out, “Um, I know a nice Italian place down in Santa Monica.”

“Sounds great, sweetie! I’ll call ya after I’ve dropped off the car Thursday afternoon,” your uncle’s static voice replied.

“Thursday afternoon,” you repeated, “Ok, see you then!”

“So…” Joel started, his arms snaking their way around your form. “I ain’t the only man who wants a piece of ya,” he joked, after you’d hung up the phone,

“That was my uncle, Joel,” you let him know, your body melting against his touch.

“He’s takin’ you to dinner?” he queried.

“Yeah,” you nodded, “he’s driving a car down here for work, so he wanted to see me.”

Joel hummed, dropping his head to brush his lips over yours as his hand splayed over your waist slid down to the curve of your ass.

“Nonono,” you chuckled, pulling away, “Joel, we’re already late as is!”

“So what,” Joel groaned, pulling you back for another kiss, hands tightening their grip on your ass, before trailing soft kisses to the corner of your mouth, “We could stay in ya know... enjoy the real thing.”

Joel’s kisses continued along the line of your jaw, teeth grazing your skin.

“As tempting as that sounds,” you let out through a small groan as you felt his tongue tickle that spot under your jaw, “We can’t cancel this meeting.”

Joel’s lips stopped their descent towards your neck, and he took a breath, the force of it tickling your skin, before he lifted his head, lips grazing across your jaw as he kissed the corner of your mouth again.

“Later,” you promise him, eyes looking into his. Joel’s smile was wistful, another small sigh escaping through his nostrils before he brushed his lips over yours.

“Later.”

“Let’s get started? Or do we want some coffees before we start?” Ronald asked from his seat at the head of the table.

You were seated in a chair in the corner, the cigarette smoke hung low over the room. In your lap your notebook rested, cracked spine opened to a random blank page while your fingers fiddled with your pen.

All the big important men from VCA were here, eager to finally work with the infamous Joel Packer on their new big-budget project. The last couple of years had been big for Joel, multiple magazine photoshoots, longer features and obviously modeling for a sextoy, but this film would be his biggest opportunity. It would bring in a lot of money, and Ronald knew it. He couldn’t hide the dollar signs in his eyes behind his ‘friendly’ grin.

“Ey, sweetheart!” Ronald raised his voice. You lifted your gaze from your notebook, curious as to what he was yelling about.

“Yeah, you!” He looked straight at you, a hand waving you towards him. Did he forget your name? You wouldn’t put it past him.

Leaving your notebook and pen in your chair you walked over to him, hands wringing behind your back as you stood behind Joel where he sat to Ronald’s right. He looked at you with impatience, a crude finger motioning you closer.

“Why don’t you go get us all some coffees, sweetie?” he spat out the order, his sour breath hitting you in your face.

“Um, uh,” you looked to Joel for help. This wasn’t your job; this was a job for an intern. It was important for you to be here, to take notes, to know what arrangements needed to be done, and which people to call.

“Um, uh,” Ronald parroted, “just do it– isn’t it what I’m paying you for?”

It wasn’t, but now everyone was looking at you. Everyone except for Joel. His gaze bored into the teak in front of him, fingers tightly pinched around a cigarette. With no help from Joel, you held your tongue and muttered a “Yes, sir,” to Ronald before you turned on heels.

“Alright! I wanna start by introducing Cheryl here, making her film debut alongside Joel–” you heard Ronald start as you slipped through the door of the meeting room.

Outside the meeting room, you were met with a brown hallway, identical to the left and right. Wood paneling clad the walls, and you couldn’t help your eyes from peeking through the glass partition walls of other meeting rooms as you made your way down the hall. Everything looked the same. You turned a corner, and you swore you’d been there before. After walking for what felt like a small eternity, you made it to a break room with a small kitchenette.

The coffee in the pot looked old and stale, and you poured it out in the sink. As you waited for the fresh pot to brew you searched through the cupboards for a coffee carafe. The cupboards of the kitchenette were pretty empty, only filled with mugs and drinking glasses. With a sigh you kneeled to look through the cabinet below the sink. You tried your best to be fast, not wanting to miss anything important. Finally, you found what you were looking for. With fresh coffee in one hand, and paper cups in the other, you made your way back down a hallway you hoped would bring you back to the meeting.

A couple of wrong turns later you let out a sigh of relief as you peaked Joel through the glass partition wall of the meeting room. This better be good enough for Ronald, you thought as you opened the door, not bothering to knock.

“And I think that’s about it,” one of the men opposite Joel said as you placed the coffee and paper cups on the table, “We’ll break for lunch and go ahead with the chemistry test later today.”

Did you really just miss the whole meeting?

“Sounds great,” Ronald said, pushing his chair out, and standing to his feet to shake the hands of the men from VCA. Then the rest of the room came alive as people got up from their seats and gathering their things. In front of you a chair bumped into you, pushing you a little off balance.

“Oh! Sorry– didn’t see you there.”

It was Cheryl, Joel’s new co-star. She was young, just turned twenty-one if you remembered correctly, and gorgeous. Her blonde hair, curled to perfection, cascaded down her back. Her light blue dress clung tightly to her body, accentuating her curves while the deep v-neck showed off her cleavage.

You shook your head and put on a smile, muttering an “It’s okay,” as you stepped out of her way, and shifted closer to Joel. He was busy gathering the papers spread out in front of him on the table, tapping them lightly against the teak before gathering them in his hands, turning towards you and Cheryl.

When you didn’t make a move to leave, Cheryl cleared her throat, widening her eyes at Joel as they flickered towards you. Your heart sunk in your chest. It didn’t take a genius to take her hint – you knew when you weren’t wanted.

“I’ll uh… I’ll wait for you down in the reception,” you muttered to Joel, “Let me know what you want for lunch, and I’ll get you something.” Before he could say anything, you turned around to leave, grabbing your notebook and pen.

You knew you shouldn’t have looked back as you made your way out the door, but you did. The cold stone in your chest sank lower as you watched them. Cheryl’s body curled towards Joel as they talked, her hand landing on his bicep as she let out a giggly laugh. It made your heart sting, but maybe not as much as the ache of watching Joel’s bright smile, the one he so often gave you.

Over fifteen minutes later, Joel finally walked into the reception where you waited for him. You were hard to miss where you sat on one of the couches, reading a magazine, the only person occupying the space.

“Whatcha readin’?” he asked, slumping down next to you, so close his arm brushed against yours.

You couldn’t watch his bright eyes, and the cheeky smile tugging at his lips. So, you held up one of the porn magazines you’d grabbed off the coffee table, blocking his view of your face, substituting it with the woman adorning the front and posing seductively to the camera, showing off the biggest boobs you’d ever seen.

“Industry news,” you shrugged.

You earned yourself a chuckle, “Anythin’ interestin’?”

“Not really,” you sighed, quickly shutting the magazine, and throwing it haphazardly on the table.

You could feel his warmth beside you, his broad frame, and strong arms. The same arms who’d held you so close this morning. Still, you didn’t look at him, your gaze falling to your fiddling hands in your lap. A piece of skin around your thumb had come loose, and it burned as you pulled at it.

“Um…” you started, still watching your hands, “What’s the plan for lunch? You want me to go down to that deli you like– get you a sandwich?”

Joel’s arm brushed against you as he shifted in his seat, bucking his hips slightly to fish out his pack of cigarettes from his back pocket. “Ain’t no need to do that for me, sweetheart,” he said, his voice slightly muffled by the cigarette between his lips.

“Well, it’s kinda my job,” you mumbled, your face pulling up into a slight frown as you ripped the loose skin around your thumb.

“Yeah– but,” Joel drew a breath of his cigarette.

Now you looked at him, eyebrows pulled tight in a real frown, “But what?”

He watched you, eyes dancing over your face as he took another drag, releasing the smoke out the corner of his mouth.

“Nothin’.”

You couldn’t interpret his face with the way he was looking at you, almost as he was searching for something. A silence grew between you – it was ugly and festering, like a canyon had grown between you – it was something you’d never felt with Joel before.

“A sandwich sounds nice,” he finally spoke across the silence, and you nodded.

“Um– can I borrow your car?” you asked, clearing your throat of your anxiety.

“Yeah, sweetheart.” It was like your question had woken him.

Joel had driven you both into work today, your car sitting pretty in its parking space outside your apartment complex. He rested his half-smoked cigarette in the ashtray on the table before he fished his car keys from his jeans pocket and handed them to you.

“They have me set up in a trailer out on the lot next door– I’ll wait for ya there, alright?” The hand handing you his keys locked around yours, caging them between your hands.

You squeezed his hand, the familiar weight of it in your hand, the tenderness in which he held you, made you feel a little better. Shrinking the deep canyon between you to a ravine.

“Um, why exactly?” you asked, eyes glued to your intertwined hands.

“Shit– sorry,” Joel shook his head and shifted closer to you, his knee brushing against yours, “they want me and Cheryl to have a chemistry test before they go ahead with signin’ the contracts. It’s nothin’ big or anythin’– just a blowjob.”

Just a blowjob.

You nodded slowly. It was just a blowjob, but it was a blowjob from Cheryl. Cheryl who was younger with the perfect body. Cheryl who made him smile and laugh. Cheryl who could give him a blowjob, and not some sorry excuse of a handjob.

“Oh, okay,” you peeped, loosening your grip around his hand, clasping the keys in your hand.

You got up from the couch before he could say anything more, “I’ll go get you your lunch then.”

His cigarette resting in the ashtray had burned out, like your conversation with Joel. You bent slightly to grab your purse when his hands clasped around your wrist, bringing your attention back on him.

“’s everythin’ alright?” he asked you as he got up from the couch as well, closing the space between you.

Your lips pulled into a smile, one you hoped was convincing, “Yeah! Why wouldn’t it?”

His other hand came up to cup your cheek gently, shifting your face to look at him. “’s just for work, you know,” he told you.

Your head was nodding even before he’d finished talking, your face still pulled tight in a smile, “Yeah, Joel, I know.”

“Okay,” he whispered and leaned closer. You shifted your face in his palm, his lips hitting your other cheek in a short peck before you were pulling away. His fingers like a bracelet around your wrist, fell heavy to his side.

“See you in a little bit,” you told him before pushing the door to the reception open and stepping outside.

Some forty minutes later you were knocking on a trailer door with the sign ‘Joel Packer’ hanging on the front. In your other hand you were balancing two coffees and a bag with two sandwiches. You knocked again when nothing happened, scared you’d shown up to the wrong trailer for a second, even with the sign telling you, you were in the right place.

“Joel? I have your lunch.”

“Come in,” he answered almost immediately.

You opened the trailer door and stepped inside, careful not to spill the coffees all over the carpeted floor of his trailer as you balanced everything. With the door closed you turned around, eyes scanning the cramped room for Joel.

He was laying on the couch, one hand down the front of his pants where he palmed himself over his briefs – a lazy smile resting over his features as he took you in.

“Oh! Sorry,” you quickly looked away, scurrying to place his food on the nearest table.

Behind you Joel got up from the couch, crossing the small space between you to wrap his arms around your body, and press his front against your ass. You jumped in his grasp, your hands finding his where they rested around your waist.

“Stop apologizin’” he whispered in your ear, his teeth catching on your earlobe, “was just gettin’ ready, baby,” his breath was hot against the column of your neck, and you felt his cock grow against your ass. “Ain’t gonna have any trouble gettin’ hard now though,” he chuckled.

“Joel,” you whined, the sound pathetic at the back of your throat.

“Yes, baby, let me hear ya,” you could feel the bass in his voice vibrate against your skin.

His hands spread over your body, drinking you in with his touch, grabbing at your breast while pressing tender kisses to your neck. You melted against him, body soft and pliant. In an instant you were back in your memories from this morning, and you couldn’t fight the whimper from falling from your lips. With closed eyes your memories mixed with your present. Images of how he’d kissed you, touched you, and taken care of you this morning blended with the firm press of his body against yours and his calloused hands exploring you; like how you could still see your reflection in rippling water.

“Joel,” you tried again.

“I know, my sweet girl,” he cooed.

Behind you he bucked his hips against your ass, the bulge of his hard cock splitting your cheeks. You felt your arousal wet your panties, an ache of anticipation settling in your core.

“Fuck, sweetheart– wish it was you getting on your knees for me later.” He whispered his filthy words in your ear with another buck of his hips. “Wanna feel your tight little throat around my cock as you choke on it.”

His confession made a nervousness intertwine itself with your blinding arousal. You turned around in his arms, your face nuzzled into the dip where his neck met his collarbone, “I-I’ve never done that before.” Your confession was barely a whisper, the words muffled into his skin.

His grip tightened around you, and you felt the way his body moved under your cheek, a comforting hand landed carefully at the back of your neck. His jaw and cheek bumped against the top of your head as he dipped down to your face and his breath changed like he was about to say something, but then was interrupted by a hollow knock on the trailer door.

“We’re ready for you on set in fifteen minutes, Mr. Miller,” a voice called.

With the knock the spell was broken. You untangled yourself from his embrace, a shy smile ghosting over your lips as you stepped away.

“You should eat.”

Again, you’d agreed to watch him film. Joel had convinced you on his way out the trailer door, his hand resting at the small of your back as he led you towards the set. It was a small shoot – only Joel and Cheryl, the cameraman, the sound guy, a couple people from VCA, Ronald, and you. In the time you’d worked for Joel, you couldn’t remember a set feeling this intimate (not that you usually stayed to watch– not unless he explicitly asked).

The only goal for the scene was to find out if Joel and Cheryl worked well together on camera – hence no specific storyline or roles they were supposed to act out. Joel was getting his dick sucked, but other than that they were free to take the scene whichever way they wanted.

The room buzzed with quiet conversation as the cameraman got the camera and film ready. Joel was already seated on the couch where the scene would take place. His legs were spread wide, his hard bulge on display as he leisurely smoked a cigarette. Cheryl had taken up the seat beside him, leaning her elbow on the back and resting her head in her hands. They were talking, but you couldn’t hear from where you stood in the corner. Every now and then Joel’s eyes would search for yours, meeting them for a moment as a small smile spread across his lips, before they would flick back to Cheryl, joining their conversation again.

A few minutes later, the cameraman gave the okay to start shooting, making the rest of the set settle down. Joel still smoked his cigarette, so you took it upon yourself to be a good assistant and walk over to him with an ashtray.

A smile spread across Joel’s face when he saw you approach. His arm came up to rest over the back of the couch, his body opening to you with curiosity. You gave him a small smile in return, presenting the ashtray to him with a teasing raise of your eyebrow.

“Just ‘nother drag, sweetheart,” he teased, placing his cigarette back between his lips.

“Nuh-uh,” you chuckled, stealing his cigarette from his mouth with two pinched fingers.

The rest of the smoke in his lungs came out in small chuckles, his hands gathering in his lap as he leaned slightly towards you, moony eyes watching you. He was about to say something before,

“Quiet on set,” the cameraman interrupted with a shout.

You wanted to do something. Cup his cheek, kiss him, anything to just touch him, but you couldn’t. You needed to keep it professional. Instead, you gave him another small smile before you walked back to your previous spot in the corner.

“And… action!”

With the shout of the cameraman, the film was rolling, and the shoot had started.

Leaning against the wall again, you crossed your arms over your chest as you watched Cheryl sink to her knees between Joel’s spread legs. On her lips she wore an innocent pout while her hands caressed his thighs.

“Wanna put my mouth on it,” she said in a sweet voice.

“Yeah, baby? What do you want in your pretty little mouth?” Joel’s voice was deep and coaxing, his hand cupping Cheryl’s chin where his thumb ghosted over her skin.

Cheryl tilted her face down slightly, eyes big and wide as she looked up at him through her lashes.

“Your cock, sir,” she pouted.

You still didn’t know much of the plot to the porno they were shooting, but it was clear that they were going in a specific direction. It wasn’t unusual for Joel to slip into a more dominant character in the pornos he played in, but this new element of innocence from his scene partner wasn’t something he often did.

“You want me to teach you how to suck cock like a proper whore, sweet girl?”

Sweet girl.

You watched how Cheryl’s head nodded in his palm, teeth catching on her bottom lip, and a wicked smile tugged at the corners of Joel’s mouth. It made you shift your weight, arms tightening around your body.

“Alright…” Joel’s thumb ghosted over her bottom lip, “Take my cock out,” he ordered, pulling his hand away.

Cheryl obediently did as he said, her hands messing with the buttons on his jeans. Joel wasn’t wearing anything underneath – it was easier that way, he’d told you earlier in his trailer. Cheryl gasped as Joel’s hard cock sprung free. Her eyes wide as she watched how his cock slapped against his lower stomach.

“’s big isn’t it, sweet girl?”

Again.

Your teeth caught on your bottom lip, pulling at the loose skin with a burning ache.

“So big, sir,” Cheryl agreed, nodding her head.

“Too big for your little mouth, sweetheart?” Joel teased, taking himself in his hand, pulling gentle strokes up and down.

Cheryl shook her head again, “No, sir! I can take it!”

Joel huffed out a laugh at that, his grin growing wider. “Yes, you can, slut.”

His degrading words pulled a moan from Cheryl, and not a second later her mouth was on him. Joel laughed again, another huffing chuckle leaving him as his heavy hand came to rest at the top of her head, guiding her down on him.

“That’s it, slut, suck that big cock– take it all the way down that whore throat,” he encouraged, head tipping back in pleasure. The wet sounds echoing through the room were obscene, pornographic. Sticky strings of spit clung to Cheryl’s chin and dripped down to her breasts where she’d tugged at the V of her neckline to expose them.

“Feels so good, my sweet girl– just like that,” Joel moaned, eyes squeezed shut with a look of pleasure coating his features like he’d ascended to heaven.

My sweet girl.

The room spun, and you pressed your back harder against the wall, like it would fall down over you if you didn’t press up against it. Or maybe it was you who would cave in.

That pet name. That fucking pet name.

You needed to step out if you wanted to breathe, your throat tightening up as your thoughts drifted; to this morning in your bed and then again in the shower, to the two of you in that motel bed, to Joel’s hand on your knee as he’d knelt in front of you by the pool in Pismo Beach. Burning tears pressed behind your eyelids. You couldn’t watch any more, couldn’t hear any more, you couldn’t.

As quietly as you could you stepped out of the set. Your eyes pinched together in a squint as the hot LA afternoon sun blazed down on you. The air hot and stuffy, but not as suffocating as you felt inside.

Why did you feel this way? Jealous of another woman?

Joel wasn’t your boyfriend… at least not in so many words, but after Pismo Beach and his confession, he felt like yours. Someone you can’t help but fall in love with. That’s what he’d told you.

You couldn’t keep your thoughts from spiraling. Fall in love with? How could he be in love with you? You’d only had sex twice, never been on a proper date. You didn’t know who he was outside work. His touch and his kisses felt good, but how could you know if it was more than that – more than just something physical. He’d never called you his girlfriend. Why did you have any right to be upset right now?

This was his job. You knew that before you got involved with him. It wasn’t a problem for you, you’d told him so in the job interview. You’d spoken the truth at the time, but now you weren’t so sure.

Numbed by your realization, you stepped back inside. The scene you were met with only affirmed your thoughts.

You couldn’t give him what he wanted.

They’d moved positions. Cheryl’s head hung off the armrest, perfect boobs bouncing beneath Joel as he fucked her throat. It was lewd, and dirty and plain vulgar. With every thrust of his hips Joel earned himself a quiet gag. Under him, her body was completely at his mercy. He pulled back every once in a while, to let her breath, before plunging his hard cock back down her throat. Ropes of bubbling spit escaped her mouth and ran down her face.

Joel was completely in control, using her throat purely for his own pleasure. Groans and moans spilled from his lips in between filthy praises and ‘good girl’’s. Cheryl’s body squirmed under him, her hand rubbing quickly at her clit under her dress, edging herself towards her orgasm.

This is what Joel wanted. Someone like Cheryl– someone who was confident and skilled, someone who knew what she was doing.

You watched Joel’s thrusts turn sloppy, and that now familiar pinch in his brow let you know he was about to bust his load. With a quick motion he jerked his cock back, taking his throbbing and sensitive cock in hand, fisting himself quickly. Cheryl gasped for air, before she withered with her orgasm.

Joel groaned louder than you’d ever heard him before, his eyes flicking up from Cheryl’s squirming body to find yours. A smile spread across his face then, and then he was spilling over his knuckles and painting Cheryl’s face with his release.

“Shit,” Joel panted, coming down. His hand squeezed the last few drops of his cum out of his cock and onto Cheryl’s tongue.

“Aaaand– cut,” the camera man yelled.

Joel dropped the act immediately, stepping away from a ruined Cheryl as his cock went soft in his hand.

“Shit,” Cheryl groaned, wiping some of the mix of spit and Joel’s cum from her face.

“You okay?” Joel asked, tender hands helping her sit upright.

Cheryl giggled sweetly, big smile blossoming over her features, “Okay? More than okay, Joel– fucking amazing.”

As the gentle lover you knew him to be, Joel helped Cheryl clean up her face after getting handed a towel, but not before assessing the picture he’d painted– which wasn’t much, not compared the cumshots he usually gave out.

“If I knew I’d be filmin’ today I wouldn’t have jerked of this morning,” he laughed, wiping her face.

It wasn’t funny.

part three -> here

i hope this was okay? and that you liked this! <3 as always feedback as a comment, in the tags, as an ask or reply is very much appreciated, and they make me super happy! <3

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fanfic #joel miller one shot #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #dom!joel miller #the last of us smut #tlou smut #joel miller smut #joel miller angst #joel miller fluff #inexperienced!reader #70s au #pedro pascal

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charmercharm3r · 9 months

Text

Dream You

Masterlist

wc: 4k

Synopsis: He cheated on you— in your dreams, then took kiss it better too literally.

warnings: smut, explicit sexual content, softdom!chan, light bondage, oral (m receiving), dacryphilia, pretty intensely fluffy they just rly love each other

☆ﾟ

4,000 followers! enjoy this lil idea as a thank you. i appreciate you!

You. Needed. Affection.

Just affection, and loads of it from one person in specific. Mostly because you were pretending to be mad at him and it made you miss him even more. Chan rarely makes you mad, he’s always good about communicating and listening, so the fact that you were mad at him and he didn’t even know why threw him off a little.

So there you were, sat on the couch wrapped in one of his hoodies eating straight out of the ice cream tub because you were too upset to do anything but count the seconds until he got home. You weren’t answering his texts, you picked up his call because you accidentally pressed the wrong button out of muscle memory and Chan could tell through the phone that today was just not a good day.

When he came home and found you sitting in the same spot that you were in when he called you– he knew this because you described it exactly as it looked, Chan almost collapsed at how cute you were. You had this ruffle in your brow and his hoodie looked like it was threatening to drown you in the black material. Gnawing on the spoon, your chest rumbled a little as Chan smiled his dimply smile and reached for the tub of ice cream to take away. “You doing okay, baby?” He chuckled trying to pop the spoon out of your mouth, wriggling it back and forth and swaying your head until you decided to let go.

“No, I’m mad at you,” there wasn’t much bite to the statement.

Chan pecked your forehead and ventured off to put the ice cream away, “oh yeah? Wanna tell me why so I can fix it?” He returned to stand behind you and lean over the back of the couch, wrapping his arms around your neck and nuzzling his cheek into the top of your head.

Upset but still wanting the physical touch, you pulled his arms tighter, “dream you cheated on me.”

He popped his head around the side of yours to come face to face with a look of genuine shock. “Did he?!” Chan hopped over the back of the couch to sit next to you.

“Yeah. I caught you in our bed and everything. Then you broke up with me and posted the bitch on your instagram the next day.” You huffed and pushed him away with no force, turning to lean on the armrest and lay your legs over his lap. Chan rested his head on your knees, looking at you with his big puppy dog eyes that never failed to make you melt.

“I thought I taught him better than that,” he gently scolded. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. Is that why you didn’t kiss me back when I left this morning?

You nodded. “And why you weren’t answering my texts?” Another nod. “And why you can’t look at me because you know how ridiculous that sounds?”

You were half way through nodding for a third time when you caught his words, “hey! It’s not ridiculous! It could be a premonition, I could be psychic and get into fortune telling with how accurate I am.”

Chan closed his eyes and let his hands wander up and down your calves, lightly dragging his lips across the bare skin of your knees as he spoke, “mhm, mhm. Or it means that it’s never gonna come true. I like to think that, instead.”

It was getting harder to be mad when the feeling of his breath fanning over your skin made goosebumps rise, he loved watching the way your body reacted to him. It was never hard for him to work you up, physically and emotionally. Chan thrived on the effect he has over you, but it’s a two way street and you live for the way he’d do anything to please you. Even if it means apologizing for something he didn’t really do. In this reality, at least.

You wanted to be mad so bad that you debated on throwing him off you entirely, however his lips were just too plush looking and you craved to feel them on your own. Chan took his time to work them higher up your legs, eventually laying them and sticking his head under the hem of his hoodie you wore. He tugged you to lay flat so he could have more area to trace his pretty lips cross, the thoughts of being upset almost totally dissipating under his touch. Your leg instantly wrapped around his torso, to which he grinded lightly into the cushion. His hair tickled your bare chest as he peppers kisses across your belly, hands roaming your back to keep you near. He didn’t move as sexually as one might’ve thought from an outside perspective, it wasn’t to get into your nonexistent pants, you just got him so horny.

So horny to the point where he would’ve kept grinding against the couch if you didn’t feel like relieving him, he would’ve taken it like a champ if you denied him. You never do, though, as if you had the impulse control to ever tell him no.

Chan kept his movements slow, intentional, with the purpose of getting you to relax and see how much he loves you and how much an asshole dream-him was for cheating on dream-you. Big hands moved down to cup your ass under the fabric of your underwear, teething lightly above your belly button then soothing over the bite with his fat tongue. The wet muscle laved over the sore spots with the tip of his tongue, then flattening it, the tip, then flat again, alternating like he would if it were your pussy and were trying to get you to cum.

You wanted that, you always wanted his tongue on you. But now, you needed this more. The closeness and being able to keep him where only you can love and appreciate.

It felt so stupid to even be thinking that way, stupid that you had pulled such childish acts instead of just telling him in the first place. If you had just asked to be coddled, he would’ve given it to you without a second thought.

Chan needed this as much as you did, little to your knowledge. He could feel how off you were in the morning but really just didn’t have the time to fix it at that moment. It stung his heart hearing what dream-him did to dream-you, he couldn’t possibly imagine putting you through that, let alone move on so quickly if you ever were to actually break up.

No, he couldn’t even bear the thought of leaving you, it hurt too much.

His heart hurt for you, he could see the pain all over your face when he got home and it wasn’t even real life. Chan would rather die than ever let you go through something like that in this reality. In your dreams, well, there isn’t much he can do other than what he’s doing now.

Leaving chaste kisses anywhere along your torso he could, massaging your ass with his nimble fingers while heavily breathing in the scent of your skin. The quiet moans you were trying to suppress made him smile, able to feel your muscles tightening and loosening beneath his fingertips. He felt so warm against you, you wanted to thread your fingers through his hair and tried to from over the hoodie. Chan mumbled incoherently in protest and tugged the hem over his head again when you tried to tug it up.

“Wanna be close to you,” he murmured, going back to rubbing his cheek to your belly. You could only giggle and let him.

This was just Chan. Just purely and entirely him. Doing nothing and everything at the same time and making you melt into the palm of his hand, you’d forgotten why you were mad until he spoke again.

“Can’t believe I’d do that,” the barrier of material made it hard to hear him.

“Hm?” You hummed.

He slithered a little higher up your chest and you pulled the neckline to peak down into the dark shadows of the hoodie. You could see just one of his pretty brown eyes peering up at you sweetly, “who in their right mind would do that to you?”

Chan rested his cheek on your chest and stayed there, arms enclosing around your torso. “Dream-you did. And it really sucked.”

He whined this time, higher in pitch and wiggling to get comfortable. Your head back against the couch, you closed your eyes and let yourself calm down before you got worked up again. Chan could hear your heartbeat speed up, placing another soft kiss to the skin above it. You shivered and draped your arms over the back of his shoulders to succumb entirely to the feeling. Just as you finally relaxed, warmth engulfed your left nipple, wet and hot and being suckled into his mouth like a pacifier. “I’m trying really hard to be mad,” you admit while smiling to yourself, out of his field of vision.

“Please, don’t be,” he pleaded, “I’ll never hurt you. I’ll destroy anyone who tries.” It sounded silly coming from his mouth considering it was full of your tit, you couldn’t help a gentle laugh.

A few more moments of him playing with your breast, then switching to the other with no regard for the wet sounds that emitted from his suckling, you couldn’t take not seeing him anymore. You sat up as much as he’d let you and tucked your arms into the body of the hoodie, pulling your head through the neckline just enough so that the two of you were pressed chest to chest under the material.

It was dark and hot, you weren’t sure how he was able to stand being underneath it for so long. You couldn’t totally see him, but you knew he was looking at you– or at least, attempting to. You felt for his cheeks and held him just millimeters away, feeling his calm breathing over your chin. In almost total darkness, unable to see but could feel each other entirely, he whispered, “you’re safe with me. You’ll always be safe with me.”

You pulled him into you, savoring the fragile way he always tended to kiss you when you were particularly emotional, scared as if he’d break you. Handle with care, your heart said, and he did just that and more. Delicate. Do not touch, written outside the glass case he envisioned you in whenever something went even remotely in the opposite direction you wanted. It wasn’t that you needed the protection, by no means were you unable to handle yourself, but you invoked something in him that he couldn’t control. Fortunately for him, you let him smother you and baby you and wrap you in bubble wrap so tight you couldn’t breathe because it felt good to be seen. It felt good to be loved, and loved by him.

It was getting more and more difficult not to rut your hips against him, any part of him because he made you that insatiable. Chan could feel you trying to restrain and laughed against your lips.

“What if I want you to break me?” He glitched for a second, then went back to kissing you with a little more intensity.

“Then, I’ll just have to put you together again.” You ripped the hoodie away, leaving you naked in his hold aside from the underwear you were soaking through. “And break you, put you together again, and again, and again until you’re begging for me to stop.”

You felt the wave of butterflies flutter right between your legs and caved.

“Fuck– take me to the bedroom.”

Chan stood just to throw you over his shoulder effortlessly, entirely too excited for either of your own good. It wasn’t until now that you noticed he was still in those uncomfortably tight jeans he left in this morning, your mouth watered at the timely prospect of getting him out of them. You just couldn’t stop yourself from sending a light smack to his ass as he walked through the bedroom door, and he reciprocated with an even harder one to the bare skin of your own.

He laid you down gently just to cover your body with his own once again, not letting you strip him without your tongues laving against one another's. His shirt came off first, tossing it towards the headboard, your underwear, then his pants. Chan stopped you from reaching for his underwear so he could tease you, barely tugging the elastic down his hips and letting his erection catch in the fabric until he finally let it slap against his lower belly erotically.

Chan let them fall to the floor before kneeling tall onto the bed, “turn around,” he instructed. You followed and faced the headboard, seeing him reach around for his discarded shirt. Just barely could you feel his hot breath against your neck, “are you sure this is what you want tonight, baby?”

You hummed with desperation, “break me. Lovingly, please.”

Leaving a small peck to your cheek for reassurance, Chan grabbed your arms harshly and brought them behind your back. He used his forgotten shirt as a makeshift restraint, keeping you bound and tied up with no way of being able to touch him, you wondered what it was he had in store that required it.

Once he finished he sat opposite of you, falling on his back and watching the process of your mouth watering over seeing him in the perfect cock-sucking position. The redness of his tip, you would’ve thought it was painful if you didn’t know better. No, that’s a lie– it was painful. Painful watching you be so pretty and worked up and he was fighting the urge with everything in him not to untie you and lay you in the sheets like the pillow princess you so rarely got to be.

But it wasn’t what you wanted. What you wanted was to not think, be serviced and be of service, used to please. Tonight needed to end with you feeling weightless and not an ounce of sadness or anger left lingering to be found.

“Break you lovingly?” Chan called, tucking an arm under his head while the other stroked himself slowly. He swiped the bead of precum, beckoning you over with a single finger and forcing his thumb past your lips to taste. You hummed at the salty bitterness, the weight of him on your tongue and could feel yourself salivating. “Which do you want first, doll? Break you, or love you?”

Judging from the way you were practically drooling down his wrist, he took your lack of response as the former.

Stealing his thumb away, a thread of spit following, Chan laid back down and put both hands behind his head. “Go ahead. Be a good doll and suck.”

You folded so fast that it made him chuckle with pride knowing you were wanting him as much as he wanted you. Licking and twirling your tongue around the tip like hard candy, taking in as much of him as possible. Your own spit dripped down your chin and filled your mouth like a perfect hole.

Chan started to stutter up into you the further down you went. The more of him you took in, the harder it got not to thrust up. By the time you’d gotten to the point of lightly gagging, he was biting his lip to keep from losing all control. But then you looked up at him, eyes big and watery, tears already rolling down your cheek and you couldn’t even wipe it away. Nope, all self control completely obliterated by that single look. That fucking look, Chan physically felt his chest cave like crumbling sand between his fingers.

“I’ll fucking break you, baby. Don't worry your pretty little head, I’ll make you forget.” You couldn’t reply with his thick cock in your mouth, but could see you approve with the little nods you managed to give. “Be a good cocksleeve, yeah? Make me feel good.”

You took him as deep as you could, stilled as soon as your nose hit his pelvis and thought that was good enough since he groaned, loud and deep from within his chest. But you looked up at him again, this time just as the tears fell from your lash line. Chan tangled both hands in your hair and hooked his legs over your shoulders, cock still buried down your throat. He locked his ankles around the back of your head and pushed himself that much deeper to get you to gag harder. The sound that he emitted resembled that of a bear, hearty, unrestrained, feeling.

Oh, how he felt you. Felt the constricting of your throat around him, felt your tongue fighting to make room for you to breathe and failing, felt your tears wet the skin of his pelvis. Nothing but your safe word could have stopped him from pulling you off his cock for a split second to inhale a deep breath, then shoving you back down to abuse your throat like it was just a toy. For now, you were just a toy– his toy.

Lewd and adulterous squelching of your mouth slicking up and down his cock filled the room, overridden just by Chan’s moans of pleasure and your light humming to vibrate up his shaft. He was kind for a few moments– as kind as he could have been in this position, and eventually gave up seeing as you could still fight back. His lazy pushes and pulls of guiding your head up and down turned into him rutting up into your mouth in quick jabs, utilizing the headlock he had you in as leverage to move at what could have been neck breaking speed. His hands held you firmly in place as Chan did all the work now, focused on nothing but his own pleasure as your tears and spit mixed to puddle around his throbbing cock.

You were a gagging, crying mess and you loved every second. So much so that you spread your knees and tried to rub your puffy clit into the bunched up sheets. A few more upthrusts of his tip hitting the back of your throat, Chan let you go entirely. Without the stability of him holding you up, your weak body tilted to the side as you gasped for air, hips slightly twitching from the immense need built up.

He took a second to regain his composure while you caught your breath. Chest still heaving up and down, Chan forgot that your hands were still tied, wondering why you weren’t jumping his bones the second he let you free. Sitting up, he tilted his head at you with a sympathetic smile, “sweet doll, I haven’t even done anything to you yet. Anything left in here?” He mockingly tapped the side of your temple, to which it went unacknowledged. You just wanted him on you again, whining and trying to wriggle closer to him. “Hm, guess not. Did my job, didn’t I? Didn’t take very much effort, baby. You love me that much? Or you’re just a cockhungry doll.”

Through the soreness in your jaw, you managed to whisper, “l–love you.”

Chan chuckled, “I know you do. Love my sweet doll, too.” He leaned over to kiss your forehead, ignoring the way you puckered your lips for more. Chan manhandled you to the center of the bed, keeping you on your side with arms still restricted from touching.

There was nothing you could do but let him do what he wanted with you, but this was the lovingly part. This, although bound on your end, was where he showed you everything he couldn’t tell you. This was the putting you back together part, the safe with me part, the dream-me can go fuck himself because you deserve the best dicking down ever part.

And could you tell that’s what all of this was? Absolutely. Could you do anything about it? Not a chance. You couldn’t touch him, couldn’t form coherent sentences, couldn’t do anything but babble love you, love you, and more love you’s.

Chan pushed your hair from your sweaty forehead, memorizing your features for just a second before he lost himself again. Then straightening out your bottom leg for him to straddle while resting the top in the crook of his arm and aligning his cock at your entrance, just teasing your clit with the tip and spreading the perpetually leaking beads of cum. He would dip into your hole, hear you whimper, then pull away and do it all over again to keep you in a constant state of frustrated that he wouldn’t just fuck you already.

It was because fucking you wasn’t what he wanted, he hated calling it that. If it were anyone but you, calling sloppy sex for what it is wouldn’t have bothered him. But you weren’t just anyone, he wouldn’t dare call you anything less than what you deserved and that applied in the bedroom as well. That was, of course, aside from when you truly asked for it.

Even the sloppiest of sex with you wouldn’t be classified as just fucking. He felt every inch of you in every single one of his nerve endings, in his veins, pumping the blood through his heart straight down to the tip of his cock. Chan felt a little dumb just looking at you, like he’d lost his mind at the mere scent of your arousal, he felt like a lovesick puppy and if you’d ever decide to leave him, he’d die of a broken heart.

God, he loves you. He said it as he finally pushed into your pulsing, wet hole. He said it as he came to the hilt, he said it as he slipped the bondage off your wrists, as he grabbed your hand to hold and as he began to lazily thrust in and out, searching for the spot that would make you cry so hard you’ll pass out as soon as you cum.

And you did cry, not just from how good you felt physically but because even if he wasn’t mindlessly telling you how much he loved you, you could see it in the way he looked at you. He wasn’t looking anywhere but your face, straight into your eyes in a stare so intense it should’ve been uncomfortable. It was anything but, you shed a tear every time you blinked to see him still looking at you like he was sure you were the last thing he’d ever see.

God, you love him. You said it as your hand held his for dear life, as he pummeled the soft spot within you that made you see stars through the tears, you said it as you were curling your toes and arching your back at an unholy angle. You said it as coherently as possible as the butterflies in your belly swept you into a whirlwind of pleasure, as you milked him for everything he had, as you came back down to earth somehow laying on his chest and not at all in the same position as when the orgasm hit.

Gentle beating of his heart in his chest stirred you from the light daze you had fallen into, you don’t even remember doing it. “Hey there,” his chest rumbled. Chan kissed the top of your head, your forehead, then moved to lay your head in the pillows so he could kiss your lips.

As he tucked your hair behind your ear, you finally got to brush your fingers through his curls, so soft and pretty. His eyes closed as your nails raked across his scalp, letting his forehead fall against yours. The rumbling of his chest made you smile, “you purr like a cat,” you said through the sore scratch in your throat.

“Cats ward off evil. Real me is shooing away the nightmares for good. Let me purr.” Chan let you tug his head against his chest with a content him falling from your lips, where his purring turned into soft snores as the exhaustion finally hit him.

☆ﾟ

tags: @sensitiveandhungry @babebatter @changbinluvr @epiphanynaffit @fawnpeaks @linovely @dumplinbokkieracha @finnydraws @naturules @djeniryuu @hamburgers101 @skzhomiehopper @yesv01 @hyunjinsamdl @dazzlingligth @lvrhyuka @alexis-reads-fics @linaliskz @0002linoskitten @chillichillicrabcrab23 @zerefdragn33l @straycrescent @binnies-donuts @soldierstangirl-blog @bakedlilgoonie @levanterlily @shelbyyy44 @yeetmehome @in2heartz @astroodledream @the-sweetest-rose @goblinracha @lilbugs-things @viviennenstan @staurdvst @alex--awesome--22 @imzenning @jeyelleohe @iadorethemskz @skyvastbunny @mamabymychem @katsukis1wife @woozarts @noellllslut

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sgrplumditz · 2 months

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You had his baby and he didn't know (Pt. 2)

A/N: Thank you for all the positive feedback! I am so beyond grateful that you guys enjoyed the 1st part. I never fathomed to get this much attention from my first post, which means I didn’t really intend on making a part 2. But with such gratitude and motivation… here it is!

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She had told him everything, and through it all he did nothing but soothe her, keeping her small hands in his as her soft voice filled their ears. It wasn't until now that she had realized how absurd it was to feel nervous to tell him the story of her unaccompanied pregnancy, and her introduction to motherhood.

Like herself, he also held no resentment, or distaste toward the secrecy behind the conception and birth of their beautiful baby girl. Simon's only intention was to understand her and her decision to keep their child a secret from him, but in the midst of her reminiscent disclosure he couldn't help but feel alienated, guilty and a rollercoaster of many other emotions revolving her and his daughter.

His usually hard, and stoic gaze had softened for her -- which wasn't an unusual occurrence for him when it came to her, the mother of his child. "Hey, you're alright" he soothed when he noticed a stray tear race down her soft cheek. His thumb instinctively coming up to stop the salty drop of emotion in its track, and likewise she instinctively leaned into the feeling of his large hand that cupped the side of her face.

The moment was tender, intimate, comforting -- it was everything that she craved from him from the moment she found out she was carrying their child. Their baby girl seemed to be emotionally connected to her mother. The sound of her fuss and whimpering coming from the playpen where she had been placed to rest. Both her and Simon's attention was drawn to the infant the moment her restful cooing was replaced with the sounds of discomfort. Her mother knew that she was most likely hungry, but her father, Simon seemed to only be alarmed by the sudden crying. It was evident that his protective nature had taken over -- a quality of his that could not be tamed or ever be put to rest.

"She's just hungry, Si" she spoke, breaking the silence between the two. The melancholy aura of the room immediately being lifted as she chuckled softly at his high alert behavior as it only reminded her of the first few nights that she was home from the hospital with her daughter.

As she normally would she gently picked up their daughter, making sure to keep a firm hand on the back of her neck to support it. Her maternal nature was in full effect as she spoke sweet and soft words to the baby girl. Her cries being soothed, and her simple mind now distracted at the sight and sound of her mother. Simon watched this all divulge in front of him. He didn't know whether his heart ached because he had missed hundreds of moments like these or if he felt such sorrow because he didn't share the same bond with the tiny being that he helped create.

He let his the thoughts and endless "'what if" possibilities consume his mind while she prepared a bottle with the infant still resting in her arm. She was small, measuring out the length of her mother's forearm. Normally she would make the bottle with ease, but as time went by and the baby girl grew, the process slowed down. She was careful and calculated making sure that the baby was always safe in her arms.

"I can take her if you're alright with it" spoke Simon in a mildly nervous tone. “It’d make it easier for you to prepare her bottle, yeah?” he spoke again, using the feeding time as an excuse to finally hold their daughter. But he was nervous? Simon doesn’t get nervous. He has always been incredibly calm and collected to the point of mastering stoicism. He wasn’t nervous to hold the infant — that was the less of his worries.

There were so many special events that he had missed while he was away. Core memories that he doesn’t have with her or her mother. He missed the pregnancy, the first kicks, the birth, the first powerful cries from her little lungs, the first feed from her mother’s full and lactating breasts, the first skin-to-skin contact —which he read was essential for bonding in newborns, the dad walk out of the hospital after being discharged as a family — the one where he knew his overprotective nature would automatically take over.

So many factors playing into the aggregation of his nerves, but there was a single one that was keeping him on edge the most. Simon was nervous that he wouldn’t be able to bond with the small and fragile being that shared half of his DNA. Being absent for so many critical events made him doubtful in his ability to be and feel like a genuine father. All of his nerves dwindling down and relying on this very moment.

But none of it mattered. The pessimistic thoughts that lingered in his brain practically disintegrating. As if the warmth of his daughter’s small body destroyed every doubtful fiber in his own. She was no longer just his biological daughter, but a part of him. His soul was tied to hers, his emotions was connected to hers, his breath was for her. His entire being was engulfed by her.

The baby adjusted herself in his broad, tattooed and muscular arm by leaning her small face into his chest, as if she sensed some sort of familiarity in him. Like mother like daughter.

She watched their entire interaction curiously. She saw his hardened exterior breakdown at the moment their daughter’s infant body fit into his arm like a puzzle piece. It was obvious. Just like she felt her daughter was made for her, she was just as equally made for him. The instant connection between the father and daughter was electric. This was everything she had wanted and more.

She always knew Simon would be a great father — he was a great guy after all — he was attentive, protective, polite, masculine, and so much more, but she never fathomed that it would have been as magnifying as she felt it to be.

Simon’s gaze turned to her and she swore she saw his eyes glistening, tears threatening to spill. No words were exchanged between the two, but she knew exactly what he was feeling and thinking. As their daughter’s mother, she felt those exact emotions as well.

She was then engulfed by his scent. His arms embracing the two most important girls in his life, but it was not just a typical embrace of joy — it was firm, passionate and filled with urgency. He needed them.

With their daughter still resting in his arm, he used his free hand to remove a stray strand of hair from her face before he firmly cupped it. A soft kiss landing on her forehead.

He pressed his forehead to hers and exhaled softly before breaking the silence, “I am so proud of you” he said — his english accent thick and correlating respectively with how emotional he was.

“I am so proud of you” he repeated again, “but you are never doing anything like this alone. We do it together. As a family”.

#simon riley x you #ghost cod #ghost mw2 #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #cod modern warfare #dad ghost #cod fanfic #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #fem reader

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elenadvrx · 3 months

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"princess, come on. i'm really sorry."

suna rintarou likes to play pranks on you. but this time, it went too far.

"no, suna. i don't want to talk to you." with a frown on your face and your arms crossed, you faced away from his general direction.

"suna?" he chuckled nervously, knowing you were really upset if you refused to call him 'rin' or 'baby'. "princess, i'm really sorry for doing that to you. i promise to not do that again, okay?" he tilted his head to try to get you to look at him.

a few days ago, you came home from work and wanted to cuddle with your boyfriend because you had a bad day at work. things weren't going as well as you hoped so you were looking forward to get some comfort in his arms. your heart ached when your silent request for cuddles were rejected but you brushed it off thinking that maybe he wasn't in the mood for it.

until the same thing happened the next day and the day after. whenever you initiated hugs or kisses, suna grunted and moved away, focusing on whatever was on his phone. not knowing what to do, you sat on the sofa and watched tv while suna continued to type away on his phone on the other end of the sofa. then, his phone rang and he answered the call.

"yeah, himeko? you need help? sure, i'll come over in a few." himeko. isn't she the one who was always fawning around suna?

before you could grasp what was happening, suna was already putting on his shoes. panicking, you rushed over towards him, "rin? where are you going?"

"hmm? i'm heading to himeko's. apparently she needs help with some stuff." to be honest, seeing the crestfallen expression on your face with those beady eyes, he hesitated to continue this prank but chose to press on. (tsk the ego)

"oh… okay." you hesitantly smile at suna, watching him leave through the door of your shared home.

when the door click shut, you stood at the same spot for what felt like an eternity before deciding to go back to sit on the sofa. millions of thoughts went through your mind, thinking about all the posibilities on what you may have done for him to have ignored you for three days but left immediately when another girl called for him.

what if he was tired of you? what if… he decided that himeko was actually so much better than you and was slowly distancing himself from you to prepare you for the eventual breakup? what if-

"princess, baby, i can't do it!" suna rushed through the door and head over to you to start explaining.

after a few minutes, he stopped talking and looked at you. he waited with bated breath for your scolding and beatings but none came.

which brings us back to the present.

facing away from him, your eyes started watering and your lips quiver. just a moment ago you were scared and anxious because you thought he was done with you, running away to be with another girl. and you never got that comfort from him since three days ago so all your feelings and emotions were pent up till now.

"princess? please, talk to me?" he spoke softly, so softly as if a glass would shatter if he were to speak any louder.

you hear hesitant patters of feet until suna's figure came into your peripheral, kneeling down before you and gently cupping your chin to make you face him instead. touch starved, his gentle touch made a tear run down your cheek, then down his hand.

"oh princess, i'm so sorry" suna's focused gaze on you got you crying and sobbing as you dove straight to his arms (which he let out an 'oomph' sound from the sudden impact), hiding your face on his chest.

feeling petty, you started punching his chest lightly but slowly start hitting him straight on with both your fists and palms, crying at the same time.

"ow ow! okay, yeah i deserve that but baby, could you hit me a little softer?" he chuckles trying to get a hold of your flailing arms. just as he got a hold on you, you immediately retracted your arms to cover your face.

"you're so mean! i really thought you were about to leave me and that you don't love me anymore!" more tears started trickling down before you could stop them. "i had a really bad day and all i wanted was to cuddle with you…" you started hicupping, emotions all over the place.

"hey, stop baby, i will always love you and i will never leave you, okay? i'm so stupid, gosh, i give you hitting privileges all you want. here, let me hit myself too." he hit himself on his head but winced when he did it too hard, rubbing the sore part.

chuckling a little at the sight, you started to calm down. "don't hit yourself, only i can hit you." you reached out to his head to help dissipate the soreness too.

grabbing your hand, suna softly kisses your inner wrist before releasing it to palm your face and start peppering kisses all over it, with soft "i love you"s in between. he gave a last kiss on your lips before releasing a soft sigh against it.

"i'm sorry, princess." he plopped his forehead to rest on your shoulder before tightly wrapping his arms around your waist.

"mm, you're forgiven. but do something stupid like this again and i'll leave your ass immediately." you reciprocate his embrace, one hand wrapping around his shoulder while the other slowly stroke his hair.

"fair. just know that i love you too much to let you leave me heh." placing a kiss on your neck, he retreated before lifting you up from the sofa to carry you to the bedroom.

"now, let's get the cuddles that you wanted and you tell me what happened at work. alright, princess?"

#haikyuu imagines #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu angst #haikyuu angst to fluff #suna rintarou #suna rintarou x reader #suna rintarou fluff #suna rintarou angst #suna fluff #suna x reader #haikyuu x reader

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gojonanami · 6 months

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FIVE TIMES NANAMI WANTED TO PROPOSE BUT DIDN'T - NANAMI KENTO

✴︎ summary: nanami wanted to propose to you so many times - but it was never the right time, and then, there was no time left. ✴︎ contents: 18+ only, swearing, ANGST (major spoilers for jjk 120 (probably next week's episode, character death, exploration of grief, if you wish to avoid the major angst: stop reading after part 5), SMUT (fingering (f! receiving), oral (f! + m! receiving), panty sniffing, semi public sex, nipple play, creampie, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms), pet names (love, sweetheart), happy ending (sort of?) ✴︎ wc: 10,121 (i have a problem) ✴︎ song: the archer - taylor swift (blame laney for this)

One.

The first time Kento Nanami wanted to propose to you shouldn’t count.

And it won’t because it was when he first met you — enrolled into Jujutsu Tech along with the other first years, he first laid his eyes on you at a welcome party that the soon to be menace to his sanity, Satoru Gojo, had organized. Well, he could thank Gojo for one thing it was introducing you to the room — because he may have had to find the words to ask you himself. And he didn’t know if that was possible with his tongue in knots.

But he managed to talk to you — mostly with Haibara leading the conversation. You were reserved, at first, but he saw the spark in your eyes whenever you spoke about something you were passionate about — reading was one, one thing you both shared a love for.

“Yeah hauling my books to Jujutsu Tech wasn’t an easy feat, I had to ask Geto-senpai to have some of his cursed spirits help me haul it up to my dorm,”

“By the way, you still owe me lunch for that,” Geto smirks as he slips past, and the flush that settles on your cheeks is one Nanami wanted to see — again and again.

“Aren’t the upperclassmen supposed to buy lunch?” You grumble, pouting as Gojo interjected himself, resting himself on your shoulder with his arm, making you jump.

“Not here, here the kouhais earn their keep,” he grins, tilting his glasses down, “can you?”

And Nanami opens his mouth to reply, irritation creeping over his senses, before you brush Gojo off, “I’ll buy you lunch, but next time, if that’s what it’s gonna cost me, I’m going to have you two haul my books by hand up those steps,” You stick out your tongue, before your arms curl around his and Haibara, “let’s have cake,” you smile at both of them, gaze lingering on Nanami, “and we can exchange book recommendations?”

That was the moment he wanted to propose — could see himself living in a home with you, filled with both of your books lining the walls of a personal library, but your living room as well. He could see himself falling asleep beside you as you read to him, your fingers carding through his hair.

But no, no, it was irrational, he chided himself, as he talked to you, his lips curled in a smile that had damned him from the moment he saw it. He just had met you — he had barely been ever moved by another person, much less fallen in love. And it shouldn’t happen this quickly — it only happened this quickly in books — not in real life.

But you — he watched you and Haibara chat and laugh — you were someone that might just be the thing of books.

~~~~

Two.

The second time he wanted to propose, he didn’t care to remember.

And he barely did.

He remembers the facts of the mission. It was supposed to be simple — exorcise a grade 2 curse, simple enough for him and Haibara to handle by themselves. Not that they had a choice. Jujutsu Tech’s resources were already far too spread thin — Gojo himself being sent all over Japan and even overseas to handle things himself that no one should be able to. But their mission? It should have been simple — dangerous still, but simple.

But nothing was simple when it came to curses.

He remembers sensing the curse — the manifestation had frozen him and Haibara for a moment — their bodies taut with fear and adrenaline — but they couldn’t move. Even as the cursed spirit screeched before them, he couldn’t articulate what was happening — it was supposed to be a grade 2, it was supposed to be a grade 2, but no — this was a grade 1.

And then it struck — Kento barely had enough time to react, but he did, pushing Haibara out of the way when it did.

He didn’t remember much after that.

He remembered the squelch of Haibara’s flesh, the blood seeping through his clothes, the way his body crumpled on the ground, and he remembered the next moment was the first time he landed a black flash — stunning the curse enough for him to grab Haibara and escape.

But not enough to save him.

Haibara had made him promise if anything had ever happened to him — he would make sure his sister wasn’t recruited to Jujutsu Tech. And he had to make the call to his family — he couldn’t bear the thought of some higher up taking advantage of their grief to manipulate another into their clutches.

No, he couldn’t let that happen.

And now he sat in the morgue with his body, towel covering his eyes — Geto had come and went — and now he sat waiting for the body to be examined and taken away to be burned. Burned to ash with nothing left — that was the way all sorcerers bodies were disposed of. It was if they never existed in the first place - pawns in a never ending war that would have them piled like corpses on a sacrificial pyre.

What was the point?

Haibara had always told him — if there was something only he could do, he would do it. And for him it was jujutsu — but wasn’t there something else? Something else for him to do that didn’t let him up like this? A body on a metal slab waiting to be incinerated. What was the point?

Was there even a point? People lived and people died. He had lived and Haibara died, but he didn’t know why. Why or how do people live one day and disappear the next? He had seen death before but not of someone so close — someone so precious to him. And the chaos was too much for him. To be killed by another’s twisted feelings manifested into a monster — it was almost poetic if it wasn’t so fucking tragic.

“Nanami?” And he pulls the towel from his eyes, and sees you — your eyes glassy and red tinged — tear streaks you didn’t hide well left on your face, “Nanami—“ and you don’t know what to do with yourself — as you come to him, hesitating, “can I—“

But he’s the one pulling you into his arms, nearly into his lap as his fingers dig into the fabric of your jacket, “I’m sorry — I’m so sorry I wasn’t there—“ your voice breaks, and it’s enough to break him — he hadn’t really cried, not around another person, but tears well at your words, as your fingers card through his hair.

“You have nothing to be sorry for — I’m the one—“ and his voice breaks in turn, as the words stuck in his mind going round and round, until they were nearly had shattered his sanity and skull along with it, “I’m the one who couldn’t save him,”

And you pull back to look at him with tear stained cheeks, “that’s not your fault, Nanami—“

“How is it not?” His words are laced with more venom that he wishes them to be, a little more bite than he wished to chew, and the hurt in your eyes was enough to make him regret speaking altogether, “I’m so—“

“No, it’s not your fault, Kento,” and his eyes find yours, your lips twisted in a frown, and your gaze unwavering, “I know a part of you knows that — knows that…Haibara’s death is nothing but a function of this shitty system we’ve been funneled into. Nothing more. Nothing less. And you know,” your voice grows softer, “you know Haibara wouldn’t want you blaming yourself for this. You know what he’d say?” You almost chuckle, “he’d tell you not to sweat it. To keep going. That you got it, right?”

He gives a terse chuckle in return, shaking his head, as his head tilts into your chest again, “How do we—“

“I don’t know,” you murmur, you don’t need him to say more, “I don’t know how we do this without him, but we have to. We have to for him,” and your hand cups his face, tilting his chin up so he looks up at you, “together?”

And he wants to ask you then — ask you to marry him. He doesn’t know when he would get a chance. You were the only thing that made his life make sense — the only thing that made him feel okay, feel safe, for once. He was so tired of never feeling that way. And he had just lost the one other person who made him feel that way.

He knew you wouldn’t say yes. You couldn’t. You were both so young still, still reeling from Haibara, still stuck in this system that could kill either of you at any time. But still…wasn’t that all the more reason to do it?

But as you pulled him into another tight hug, he knew he wouldn’t last much longer in the Jujutsu world. He couldn’t — he couldn’t take another loss like this. He didn’t know if he could bear it. But as his tears wet your jacket, surrounded by you — your scent, your soft breath, your warm presence — he would try.

He would try for you. And his eyes slid to Haibara’s body covered by a sheet — and for him.

~~~

Three.

“After graduation, I’m leaving,” it was a late night, a couple days before graduation that he told you. The soft pitter-patter of rain was the only thing heard from int the silence before he spoke. You laid on the foot of his bed, reading a book, while he sat cross legged at the head of it, his eyes fixed on you.

Your gaze lifts from your book, brow furrowed in confusion, “Leaving?”

“I can’t be a jujutsu sorcerer,” his words are as plain as always, “I can’t do it. I’m going to go to college and pursue some other line of study—“

And you sit up slowly, putting your book aside, and he expects protests, expects you to convince him otherwise, expects you to try and stop him, but all you ask is one question, “are you sure?”

It catches him by surprise — as you always seemed to. He could anticipate enemy attacks, analyze their next moves five steps ahead, plan three routes of escape, and even predict what garbage will come out of Satoru Gojo’s obscene mouth, but you — you always could surprise him.

“I am,” he finally answers softly, “this society is shit, you know that. And these past few years have shown me that the difference I make isn’t worth the toll it’s taking, especially when I’m not changing anything,”

“Kento, you do make a difference,” your fingers find his, intertwining with ease, such ease he can’t help but think that’s what it was meant for, “you do — even if you can’t see it, I just want you to know, you do. For the people you help, even if you don’t see them, for the other sorcerers you inspire, and for me,”

And he chuckles, “even you?” And you roll your eyes, pouting — the same pout that makes him want to lean over and kiss you until your lips are utterly ruined.

“Even me,” you toss a pillow at him, and he catches it with ease, and you scowl playfully, “y’know i’m gonna miss you, but I’m not gonna miss that,”

“What? My quick reflex—“ and you smack him with another pillow and giggle, the noise making his lips quirk into a smile even as you laughed at him, hands covering your lips.

“What was that, Mr. Ratio? Your quick—“ and he’s tossing a pillow right back smacking you in the face, making his lips curl in a rare grin (though not so rare when he was with you—“

And you pull the pillow off, your face grim, “Oh, it’s so on—“ you’re tossing a pillow, but it’s only a diversion as you lunge for him, assumedly to mess up his hair, but he’s caught you by the wrist, his other hand around your waist as he’s gotten you pinned to the bed.

Time stops.

He’s breathing heavily, and you are too — from the rise and fall of your chest, but he can hardly hear anything over the blood rushing in his ears. Your lips part as you look up at him — you’re dressed in your sleep clothes, a thin tank top and shorts — and it would be so easy to lean down, let his palm slide under his shirt. He sees your eyes flicker down his body the same — climbing back up before pausing at his lips.

It wasn’t a good idea. He was leaving. You both were graduating. Who knows when he would see you again — yet, he couldn’t bring himself to pull away. Not when this is what he wanted for so long, when he wanted you for so long. But maybe he should — maybe it would be easier, he couldn’t ask you to leave Jujutsu Tech. Just as you couldn’t ask him to stay. He knew you would stay to honor Haibara’s memory, to carry on his legacy — the one thing sorcerers could do for their fallen comrades.

Sometimes the only thing.

And sometimes it was the only thing they couldn’t do.

“Kento—“ your voice pulls him from his reverie, as your fingers brush against his cheek, “are you going to hover over me forever, let me go, or…” and your teeth graze your lip, “are you going to kiss me?”

And he’s blinking, cheeks most assuredly flushing, as your fingers graze the back of his neck, and his mouth is dry, as he looks down on you.

But he doesn’t need to asked twice, as he leans even closer, delighting in how your breath catches, looming over him, “do you want me to kiss you?” And the telltale quirk of his lips makes you gape at him, drawing a laugh from him.

“I hate you,” you murmur, as his lips finally brush yours, swallowing those playfully bitter words with them — and your lips are even softer than he imagined, your fingers settling themselves on the back of his neck, brushing the hair that rested there.

And when he pulls away; his heart squeezes at the sight of your kiss ruined lips parted as you pant slightly, eyes fluttering open to look up at him as if to ask why did you stop? And he can’t help but smile.

“It’s too bad because I love you—“ the words slip from his mouth — but he doesn’t regret it. How can he? When he might not get another chance.

And he thinks his heart will stop at your silence again, the pitter-patter of raindrops ringing in his ears again, before your lips finally curl.

“You love me, huh?” You’re leaning up and kissing him, lips finding his again and again — and how is it that he’s already addicted? You taste like honey, and sunshine, and something headier — sending heat warmer than liquor throughout his body that only made him crave more of you, and you finally pull away, and you’re smiling, “good thing I love you too,”

And he can’t believe his ears, he can’t believe you love him too — all these years he thought it was one-sided, that he was deluding himself with all the times your fingers found his, your eyes met across a classroom with a smile, and the times he found himself falling asleep next to you all those nights neither of you wanted to be asleep, your arm curled around his.

But you did. You loved him. And he loved you.

And as your lips met again, he knew, he knew he still couldn’t ask you. Couldn’t ask you because he knew you maybe wouldn’t say no — and he couldn’t ask that of you. Not when it wasn’t what you wanted. Not when he knew you could do the good he couldn’t bring himself to do. And you would — because you were the best person he knows.

He loves you. And therefore he had to let you go.

But — as he lingered over you on his bed, his body hovering over his as he dragged his thumb over your red, puffy lips, before leaning down for another kiss —

He didn’t have to let you go this second.

~~~~

Four.

It’s years before he sees you again.

It wasn’t purposeful. Not exactly anyway.

It was just easier. Easier not to have to think of you still at the place he once was. Still fighting the same curses he would have been fighting with you. Still risking your life day in and day out. While he…he only had money to worry about. To think about. To obsess about.

Money. Money. Money. Money.

How was this somehow shittier than what the jujutsu world? He had considered going into a more humanitarian profession, but when his goal was to retire early, why waste time? If he wanted to help people…he glances at his phone — the one vice he allowed himself, a picture of you that you had sent him when you got promoted to Grade 1 saved as his screensaver — he could have stayed by your side.

No, he wanted to retire. Find himself a nice place to retire to — he hadn’t decided the exact location yet. Somewhere peaceful. With nothing but beaches and sky and sand and books for him to read, to reclaim his life page by page. But to get there — he had to slop through this shit work — making the rich richer.

The same in the jujutsu world, and the same here as well.

And it was one day after he had exorcised a curse from his favorite bakery’s worker, he had felt anything good — anything remotely good — in far too long. Your words rang in his ears — you make a difference.

Was he making a difference by lining the pockets of the rich? Maybe his sorcery wouldn’t change the world, move minds or hearts, pivot the course of history — but maybe he could have his own impact. And not feel like complete shit when he woke up every morning.

And he wouldn’t — he knew he wouldn’t — if he could just see you smile again. Even if he could just see you again. He pulls out his phone, staring at your picture. And maybe…maybe even more.

“Hello, Gojo? I’d like to return to Jujutsu Tech,” and he hears laughter on the other end, “why are you laughing?”

“Kento?” You drop the pen you’re holding, as he steps into your office. And your lips are parted in surprise, your eyes fixed on his, “what are you—“

“I’m coming back, to Jujutsu Tech, I’m going to be a sorcerer again,” and he knows what you’ll ask, he knows you’re going to ask why — you’re going to ask him if he’s sure. And he doesn’t know how to tell you except by saying it’s because of you.

But you don’t say anything, your chair screeches back as you get up, clattering backwards and suddenly as you’re running into his arms. Your face is buried in his chest, and he can feel the tears against his shirt, and his arms curl around you, fingers running through your hair, “I missed you so much,” you murmur, and then you look up at him, fingers tracing his cheeks, gingerly moving his glasses away, “you look tired,”

“I am, but I’m better now,” he’s murmuring — and how is it that you send him right back to where he started, right back to where you always send him. It doesn’t even take a touch — only a glance, a whiff, a second — “I missed you too,” he adds, “a lot,”

And you push him playfully, pouting up at him, “Could have fooled me. You barely ever called or texted me all these years. You talked more to Gojo than you did me,”

“That’s only because that flippant idiot won’t stop calling until I pick up,” he grumbles — Gojo was the last thing he wanted to talk about in his moment — his fingers caress your cheek, tracing the line of your cheekbone, “I wanted to talk to you — I did, I just, I knew if I talked to you, I might say something I’d regret,”

“And what would you regret saying to me?” You raise an eyebrow, and his eyes are sliding away from him.

Asking you to come see him, asking you to leave Jujutsu Tech for him, asking you to be with him — every question that he wanted to ask, but never could.

“It’s not important—” and your hand cups his cheek guiding his eyes back to yours, and he knew you weren’t going to let this go, “If I talked to you, I knew it would end one of three ways — one, I’d ask you to leave Jujutsu Tech; two, I’d come back to Jujutsu Tech; or three, you’d ask me one of these yourself — but I knew I couldn’t do that,”

And your brows knit together, “Why not?”

“Because it had to be our own decision — I couldn’t leave and you couldn’t leave, just because the other asked,” he murmurs, his gaze softening, “it wouldn’t be fair to either of us — or the other — to feel like the only reason we’re together was because of guilt or want for the other, not for ourselves,”

You consider his words for a moment, “I would have left if you asked me,”

“I know, and I would have come back if you had,”

“But we didn’t,” and your fingers cup his face, “you remember what I said to you that night that we kissed?”

And he swallows the lump in his throat, his heart rattling against his chest, “You said, you didn’t want to go further because it would only hurt more when we had to go our separate ways,” and your hand slides up his chest slowly, the other already resting against his neck, and his find their way to you — one hand holding your waist and the other cupping your cheek, “but we’re not separate anymore, are we?”

“I hope the wait was worth it,” you smile, as both close the gap, lips meeting again and again — and you taste the same, but even better somehow — and he’s only pulling you closer, lips curled in a smile so wide that he hadn’t felt in so long, so long.

“Always, when it's you,” he murmurs against your lips, before his lips begin to trail kisses down your jaw and then your neck, his teeth brushing against your pulse, pulling a gasp from your lips, “good girl,” And he feels your knees buckle against his and he’s walking you backwards into the edge of your desk, “is anyone left on campus?” and you’re shaking your head, your eyes flitting to the door, as he makes you sit on your desk, thighs parted for him to settle between.

“The door—”

“Locked,” he replies, drawing back only a moment to take in the image before him — your lips red and ruined, chest rising and falling as you look disheveled at best, sexed at worst, and your eyes — your eyes swirled with lust, half lidded and desperate for his touch— “didn’t want any interruptions,”

Just as he was.

His fingers draw up a strand of your hair and kisses it, and your lips part, “Kento, please—”

“Please, what, my love?” his voice is low and teasing, as his fingers peel back your jacket, pulling it off your shoulders, “you’re going to have to be more specific,” his lips find your neck, soft, wet kisses that has your body leaning into his, “I’m not a mind reader,”

“But you are a tease,” you pout, and he only smiles, leaning down to do the thing he always wanted to — he kisses the pout off your lips, moaning lightly when your lips part for his tongue, his hands dragging down your sides, as your fingers loosen his tie, “I think you will be doing overtime with me today, Nanami-Sensei,”

And he grunts, as your fingers free him of his tie, joining your jacket on the floor, “I’m not going to be a teacher, just a sorcerer,” his teeth graze right under your chin, nibbling, “so you’re the only sensei here — are you going to teach me what you’ve learned the last few years?”

And you toy with the top button of his blue button-up, “Oh, I’ll teach you, Kento,” and you’re starting to undo his buttons, as he busies himself undoing yours, “the question is whether you can handle it,”

“Beautiful,” he murmurs in reverence, and his fingers finally undo the buttons, sliding your shirt off your shoulders, eyes raking over your chest — sharp blue gaze lingering on the erect nipples poking through the fabric for your bra, “You’ve always been the one thing I can’t handle,” his mouth leans down, closing around one clothed nipple, while he teased the other with his fingers, and he delights in your gasp, the noise sending heat right down to his already aching cock, “but I’m willing to try, my love,”

“You still love me?” You murmur, as he shrugs off his own shirt, perfect abs teasing into a v-line, all this muscle hidden under his business attire — and you knew he still must work out, and he did. He did in case he ever needed to come back — come back for you.

“Who says I ever stopped?” His nose buried in the nape of your neck now, as his fingers teasingly snap the strap of your bra, “you smell so good, so perfect,” and his fingers undo your bra and it joins the pile of clothes growing on the floor, “there wasn’t a day I didn’t think about you — a night that i didn’t dream of you, that I didn’t want you,”

“Kento—“ you whimper, as he tugs at your skirt, a quick glance for your nod, and he slides it down your legs, bunching at your ankles until you kick it off. Your cheeks burn as he’s kissing your way down your body, his mouth teasing the other nipple he had neglected, trailing hot kisses down your stomach, until he reaches the fabric of your panties, “I need—“

“Been wanting to taste this for so long,” and he’s kneeling between your parted thighs, still calloused fingers parting your plush flesh, tongue flicking over his dry lips at the sight of the dark wet patch at the crotch of your underwear. And you look down at him, eyes glazed over with unadulterated lust that is almost enough to have him cumming in his pants, “so sweet,” he’s murmuring as he noses your clothes cunt, and you jerk, as he pulls the crotch aside, “wonder if you taste as sweet as you smell,”

“Kento—“ and his tongue drags over the length of your dripping cunt, nose bumping against your clit, as your thighs curl around him, pulling him closer, closer — “fuck—“

“Such a filthy mouth,” he tuts, smiling against your cunt as his tongue teases your folds, “almost as filthy as you are down here,” and his finger begins to part your walls, making your thighs shake and quake, his lips close around your clit, sucking.

You’re a mess of moans and pants, hips grinding against his touch, as one hand tries to muffle your moans, the other is curled in his blonde locks, “taste even better than I imagined — just f’me, only for me,” You’re so close, as he parts your folds with another finger, sinking knuckle deep, as his fingers brush against that one spot that has you parting your lips in a silent moan, head thrown back — and the heat deep in your stomach is going to snap.

KNOCK KNOCK.

You both freeze, your cunt jerking around his fingers, as you bite your lip — maybe if you’re silent, they’ll go away— but Kento clicks his tongue, a smile on his glossy cum covered lips, mouthing, “Speak,” and you gape at him, chest still heaving, as you shake your head, before he’s curling his fingers just right.

Fucker.

You hear Gojo’s voice, calling your name, “You in there?”

You swallow thickly, meeting Kento’s gaze — he’s not backing down, “Yeah, sorry I’m in the middle of something — do you need something?”

“I was just wondering if you heard from a certain salaryman, or should I say, ex-salaryman?” the very one that was burying his face back in your still sensitive pussy, slurping and licking, despite Gojo being right outside.

You have to bite back your moans, swallowing them as you speak, “You mean Nana—ah—mi?” And you feel the very same sorcerer smirk against your abused cunt, a third finger finding its way inside you, “ha-haven’t heard from him, and what do mean ‘ex?’”

You do your best at acting, but it’s hard when his mouth closes around your clit, sucking hard, as your fingers curl in his hair, biting your lip so hard, as he fucks your pussy in earnest with his fingers — how can Gojo not hear the nasty squelch of your cunt?

“He left his job. He’s coming back to Jujutsu Tech,” and he takes a beat, “I’ll take my leave,” and he chuckles, “have fun you two, and Nanami?” You feel your face flush, “don’t be too rough with her — we need our best teacher available to teach tomorrow,”

You hear his laugh all the way down the hall, and you’re covering your face — those fucking six eyes — but Kento’s tugging your hands away, “Pay attention to the one who’s filling you, love,” and he’s burying his face in your cunt, fucking you even harder — hitting that spot over and over, until you cum, back arching, as he’s pulling his fingers out to lap up the slick dripping from you, “delicious,” he murmurs, kissing your still sensitive clit, before he’s looking up at you — all fucked out, your chest rising and falling with every pant, your lips kiss ruined red — “and so beautiful,”

His licks his lips clean of your cum, wiping the rest with the back of his hand, as he rises to your feet, “Kento, please,” you’re murmuring, his hands slide over your body, squeezing your hips, “I need you,”

“What do you need—“ and his words are cut off by your fingers reaching for his buckle, the clink of the metal as you undid it, along with the button, tugging his pants and boxers down.

He hisses as his too sensitive dick slaps his stomach, your lips parting, eyes in a trance, “So pretty, Kento,” your fingers traces one of his veins to his already leaking tip, “and so fucking big,” you murmur, teasing the bead of precum on his slit, making him groan, “can’t wait to have this inside me — been waiting ten years,”

And he’s sliding your hand away, pressing his hips flush to yours, as your legs wrap around his waist, “That long huh?” And his lips find yours again, letting you taste yourself, “and I thought I was the only one pining,”

“So you admit you were pining for me?” And he laughs, as you smile up at him — like all the times he had hoped you would — “I had a crush from almost the moment I met you,”

“You could have fooled me,” he presses kisses up and down your jaw, drawing a moan from both of you as he teases your puffy clit with his aching tip, “I thought you had a crush on Geto,” and you scoff.

“Geto? So you were jealous of him — that’s why you always had that sour look whenever I studied with him,” you grin even wider, “well you had nothing to worry about - I had a crush on very gloomy boy and no one else ever caught my eye,”

And he softly smiles, and it seems to ebb away the years — the trauma and the tiredness — and left only him, your Kento.

“Is that right?” He asks before kissing you again, his fingers finding the back of your neck to deepen the kiss, as you moaned, muffled by his mouth, “I want—“

“I know, me too, please — don’t keep me waiting any longer,” and how could he refuse a request like that?

He’s sinking into you, thick cock parting your dripping folds until he hilts himself fully in you, his fingers digging your hips — and you’re so full, too full. And you’re perfect — perfect walls wrapped around him, so warm and so tight — it’s enough for him to neatly blow his load then and there.

But he can’t, can’t when he’s waited this long to do this. You’re whimpering, “S’good, Kento, too good,” your walls flutter around him as his hips shift lightly, “please, please move—“ his hands find your legs, lifting them higher to find a better angle, fingers digging into your soft thighs.

And his hips slowly thrust into you, edging you with his shallow thrusts, and you’re whining, “Kento—“

“Look at the mess you’re making all over your desk,” he’s guiding your gaze with two fingers on your chin, making you watch where his cock is sunk into you, “taking me so well, practically swallowing me, good fuckin’ girl,” he grunts, “want it harder? Want me to fuck you?”

Your desk is already creaking under your weights and the movements, you’re nodding wordlessly, lips parted, “Kento, please, I need—“ and you watched his cock pull out only to slam back in. Your head falls back, moaning his name again and again.

The squelch of your cunt rang in his ears over and over, as he grunts, barely keeping himself from cumming, especially when you begin to roll your hips into him, “You’re so pretty, and all mine — just mine,” and his lips find yours again, just as your walls flutter at his words, “like that? Like it when I claim you, love with my cock fucking you?” And his vulgar words only makes you tighter, and he grunts, “‘m close, sweetheart,”

“Me too—g’nna cum—“ and his dick reaches that spot right as his thumb bears down on your clit, teasing it in circles, until you’re moaning his name as you cum. Your walls clamp down, soaking his cock, a white ring of cum around his base as he fucks you through your orgasm.

His eyes meet yours as you do, watching your high overcome you, twitching and moaning — and he doesn’t last much longer. His hips stutter against you in shallow thrusts until he’s notching himself deep inside, groaning as he cums, hot seed painting your walls white.

“So perfect,” he murmurs, as he kisses your sweat slicked forehead, “so good,” and he’s grunting as he pulls out, watching your mixed releases trickle out, leaking all over your desk and onto the floor. He drags his cock over your weeping cunt, watching it flutter around nothing.

“Kento,” you murmur, gazing up at him, utterly blissed out as your lips curl, your legs slipping off his waist as he settles down on your desk, “I love you,”

And his heart squeezes — is he dreaming? He must be dreaming — because nothing in his life has ever been so good. So wonderful. So perfect. It didn’t happen for him — it never happened for him.

“I love you too,” he murmurs reverently, his fingers trailing over your jaw, “so much — you don’t know how much, darling,”

“Think you can quantify it for me, Mr. Salaryman?” And he snorts, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

“Don’t call me that,” he kisses your neck — you smelled so good, were you real?

“Then what should I call you?”

And he wanted to ask you then — ask you to call him your husband, to marry you, to buy that ring he had looked at from time to time when he thought about marrying you. But you just found your way back to each other — hell, he had just slept with you in your office, not even a bed. It was too soon, but — his lips curled — he was closer than he had ever been before. And he wouldn’t wait, he wouldn’t hesitate, not when it was you. He wouldn’t let you slip through his fingers.

He smiles, “Just call me yours.”

~~~~

Five.

Today was the day.

He was finally going to ask. That’s what he thought when he looked at you, still in bed, bathed in the dappled sunlight let in by his parted curtains. You were still fast asleep beside him, body curled up so your body was pressed against him. He ran his fingers through your hair gently not to wake you, “I love you,” he murmurs, as opens his bedside drawer, pulling a ring box and notecard from it — and he stares at it.

He’d ask you. He would ask you to marry him — finally take you on that vacation to Malaysia you both had talked about for too long, read all the books you both had put off, and lounge on the beach — and do much more in your hotel room. And then maybe, maybe he could ask you to retire from jujutsu.

He had always promised himself, promised that he wouldn’t be a sorcerer when he got married. He couldn’t bear the thought of leaving a family behind to mourn him — but even more than that, he couldn’t bear the thought to lose you, to call you his wife, call you his soulmate — and have you fall away from him.

He would rather be the one to die.

But this way — he rises, grabbing his clothes for the day, and slipping the ring and the note into his coat pocket — neither of you would have to worry about losing the other. At least to a curse.

“Where are we going?” You giggle as he drags you along the street, packed with people, more than usual. He keeps you close, an arm wrapped around you, especially for a Wednesday evening. What date was it? He had seemingly lost track of everything he had planned.

“It’s Halloween,” you remind him without him asking the question, “explains all costumed people and the packed streets — we should definitely avoid Shibuya — the crowds there would be insane,”

“How’d you know—“ and you tap his forehead with a smile.

“I could see your gears grinding, Kento,” you smile, resting your head against his shoulder, “and it’s just like you to forget it’s Halloween,”

“Is it?” he chuckles, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “well good thing I have you to remind me,”

“Very good thing, and I have you to remind me about everything else,” and he nods, and you elbow him, “you don’t have to remind me of that much!”

“You were leaving the house yesterday and you forgot your wallet, keys, and purse — you almost forgot to put on shoes—“ and you’re covering his mouth his your hand.

“How about you remind me about where we’re going?” And he smiles against your hand, before kissing it gently, pulling it from his lips and kissing the back of your hand as well, making you flush.

“Why ruin the surprise—” and then both of your phones ring — the two of you share a dark look, glancing at your phones and seeing the same message — Emergency: veil has fallen over certain areas of Shibuya. All available sorcerers report.

“I guess we are going to Shibuya,” you sigh, running your fingers through your hair, “we should—”

“We should stop by the apartment — we both left all our equipment there and I need to change,” and you nod, as his fingers toy with the ring box in his pocket, a sigh stuck in his throat. When will he ever get the chance to do this right? Finally, he had worked up the nerve and this—this had to happen.

“Hey,” you cup his cheek, a soft smile on your face, “I’m sorry our plans are falling through, and just when I was going to make you give up this secret surprise,”

His lips curl, as his arm pulls you even closer, “I don’t recall agreeing to give up any secrets,” and you lean up and kiss him, soft and sweet quickly turning heady — neither of you were ones for public displays — but for some reason, it just felt right. And you part, breath warming his lips with a wide grin.

“Oh, you would have,” and he laughs, squeezing your hips, as he rests his forehead against yours, “We’ll pick this up right after we deal with this problem.”

He nodded, leaning down to kiss you again and again, his fingers still toying with the box in his pocket. And he wanted to ask right then, just drop to his knee in the middle of this packed street full of costumed weirdos and freaks, mission be damned, jujutsu be damned — but he didn’t want to do it like this.

He wanted it to be a time where both of you were safe, where you could celebrate without the fear of danger beating down your necks, where he could talk to you, hold you, kiss you — without fear it would be the last. Because he always wondered when it would be the last. But it wouldn’t be — he’d do anything to make it back, to finally take that step with you, the one he’d been waiting for over ten years to take. Take that vacation you both wanted with his ring on your finger, and retirement from Jujutsu around the corner.

And he squeezes your hand, “Promise?” and you lean into him, pulling him along the street back to your shared apartment.

“Promise.”

~~~

He wouldn’t be able to keep his promise.

That’s what kept repeating in his mind with every step he took. He couldn’t really feel much — not anymore. That special grade curse had burned him — burned half of his body to a crisp, he could barely smell the burning flesh anymore. All he could do was keep moving. Moving. Moving. Moving.

But he didn’t want to move anymore — he was tired. So tired. He couldn’t feel much, but he could feel the weight of having to keep going, even if he didn’t want to.

And now, he stands before a swarm of…curses? Transfigured humans? He didn’t know — he could barely see at this point out of his one remaining eye — he could barely keep it open, still drooping even as the monsters loomed before him.

“Malaysia…Yeah, Malaysia…Kuantan would have been nice,” the recommendation he had gotten from Mei Mei when trying to decide on a vacation for you and him to take — who better to ask than the woman with all the time and money in the world, a little brother who’d take her anywhere she wished. You both had settled on Malaysia, still panning out the details of when, but he had planned to surprise you with open ended tickets for the both of you — paid extra for them, in case something came up.

He almost chuckles. Something always came up.

Maybe if you both had liked it enough, he’d have a private home built for the two of you — with the little library nook you always dreamed of having, finally getting around to reading the countless books you both had bought and never read, go through page by page and take back the time you both have lost.

But right now each step felt like an eternity as he walked.

Where was he going again? Oh yes, to help Fushiguro. And what about Naobito and Maki? What had happened to them? There wasn’t much he could do about that.

Tired. He was so tired. I’ve done enough, haven’t I?

Hadn’t he done enough? He thought he had done enough when he left — left it all behind like a nightmare he didn’t care to revisit. Left the loss, the pain, the anger — the curses really — all behind him, in exchange for another set — greed, money, power. What was really the best option? Had he made the right choice?

But then he thought about you.

Your smiles, your touch, your kisses, your laughs — all the times he spent with you — slow mornings spent reading the paper together over coffee and toast from the bakery you always went out of your way to buy his favorites from; lazy evenings spent watching movies or reading, your legs intertwined as you did, his arm around your shoulders, until you plucked the book from his fingers made it so you were only thing his eyes were on; and sleepless but perfect nights spent in each other’s arms. The many times he wanted to ask you — the one question he never got to ask you still burned on the tip of his tongue like a curse unspoken, and he knew if he spoke it now, it would be one.

And so he did what he did best, he dispatched the curses, quick and easy. And his lips curled despite himself — at the thought of you. He could almost feel your lips on his still from earlier, the sweet scent of you instead of the smell of blood or burning flesh, he could almost see you too.

A hand rested on his chest, stopping him in his tracks.

Mahito stared back at him.

Oh. Oh.

It was over.

I’m sorry, sweetheart. I’m sorry I can’t keep my promise. I’m sorry I can’t propose. I’m sorry I can’t marry you. I’m sorry I can’t have the life we wanted. I’m sorry I came back only to leave you with the worst curse of them all.

“I didn’t know you were here,” Nanami says, staring back at the curse — and it reminds of that time — that time Mahito had him in his domain, he truly had resigned himself to death. Resigned himself to die — and then Itadori had come crashing in, crashing in as he did his life, saving him. Saving him by not only by his very existence as Sukuna’s vessel, but by just his sheer strength.

That kid had really grown on him — he didn’t want him to. Not when he had the same positivity, the same smile, the same kindness…as Haibara. It was illogical. He wasn’t Haibara — he was Sukuna’s vessel, and he wouldn’t acknowledge him, he wouldn’t until he proved himself. But he’d protect him, and he would do what he could. Because being a child isn’t a sin — but perhaps, being a jujutsu sorcerer is one.

“Yup. The whole time,” Mahito replies, lips upturned in a slight smile, “Wanna chat? We go way back, after all,”

Nanami’s eyes shift to the floor, the muddied and bloodied tiles underneath his feet — he didn’t care to divulge his deepest feelings to a curse. There were only two people he could talk to about this — and one of them, he supposed, was now closer to his being than the other.

Haibara, what the hell was I trying to do? He asks in his mind, not even daring to say the words aloud, I ran. Even though I ran away, I came back with the vague reason of finding the work worthwhile.

And then he sees him. Haibara appears in front of him, patented smile on his lips, as he points south — points right at—

“Itadori,” Mahito says, his eyes narrowing.

“Nanamin!” his eyes wide as he takes in his state — oh, he had hoped no one would see him like this, much less Yuji. He had already been through so much, so young — hell, he had already died once. He didn’t deserve to see this. He didn’t deserve to grow up like this — to have his youth ripped away. But, did any of them deserve it?

It was a marathon, a marathon that they found themselves in that headed only towards a pile of corpses — but each time, they had to pass the baton before they stopped.

Could he finally stop?

He had dropped his baton so long ago, dropped and left the track, but he knew it would be picked up by another and another and another — but it was his baton, his baton that Haibara had handed him before he died in his arms.

No, Haibara. That’s not right. I can’t say that to him. It’ll just end up becoming a curse for him.

But it’s a curse every jujutsu sorcerer had to bear — made to bear until there were either no curses or no sorcerers left.

But he couldn’t regret it now.

“Itadori,” his lips curl, smiling for the last time, “you’ve got it from here.”

He couldn’t keep his promise to you — but he kept his one to Haibara.

And you’d pay the price.

~~~

This wasn’t real. Was it?

You stood outside your shared apartment with Kento. Finally a stop to the fighting for a month for everyone to train — enough time for you to retrieve some cursed weapons you had left behind — not knowing the fight would drag on for this long. You had considering sending someone — maybe not Ijichi but someone else to retrieve them, but right now, you couldn’t bear the thought of someone else rifling through Kento’s things. Moving the things that he had placed just so — the last remnants of his life, the marks he left that proved he was there, that he lived — that he had lived.

Lived. Past tense. And now you were still living — living in a world without him.

You inserted your key and turned the lock, opening the door. And it did, just like it had every day. Each day you’d open it — sometimes before Kento, other days after — but each time, there was always a meal Kento had prepped or bought waiting for you.

And this was the first time that there wasn’t.

Not only a meal — there was no one waiting for you. Not here.

You closed the door behind you — no longer a home, just an apartment. You needed to remember the things you needed, your mind was nowhere to be found, and fled the country when you had heard the news. You didn’t cry. Not at first.

Yuji was the one to tell you. He shouldn’t have been the one to see it. You knew it haunted his dreams, you knew he blamed himself, you knew — because Kento had done the same. So you hugged him, let him cry silently into your shirt, comforted him the best you could — because you knew that’s what Kento would have wanted.

He loved Yuji — he loved Ino too, and the other students all held a special place for him, but Yuji — Yuji was a special case. You knew that from the moment he had spoken about him.

“Gojo wants me to mentor Sukuna’s vessel,” he told you one night in bed, having returned from a mission and having a drink with Gojo — not a real drink, Kento had clarified, since it had no alcohol in it — but a drink nonetheless.

“He has a name, Kento. Itadori. He’s sweet,” you smile, you had met him and all the other first years from teaching, “he’s a good kid — very new to all of this, but he has a good heart and some good skills under his belt.”

“A vessel for the ticking time bomb has a good heart? Glad to hear it,” he sighs, running his hands through his hair, “I don’t know — he was a normal kid two minutes ago, and now he’s running around with Gojo feeding him Sukuna’s fingers every second,” he leans back against the headrest, “what am I supposed to make of this? I’m not even a teacher,”

“And what have you been doing with Ino?” you raise an eyebrow, “that kid is constantly after you, dogging your every step — he looks up to you. “And I know a lot of the other students do too, the ones that know you,”

“It’s—”

“You should do this. It would be good for you,” and he’s hesitating, “Yuji needs a sorcerer to guide him — teach him the basics that Gojo has neglected to do, and show him how a proper jujutsu sorcerer who isn’t…a special case like Gojo, operates.”

Kento’s lips curl, “You know you can call him a moron,”

“Why call him that when I have you to call him that for me?” you snort, “now what do you say?”

And he eventually agreed — and it was the best decision for him. It gave him more purpose, more drive — he seemed even more fulfilled — the most you had seen him professionally fulfilled in quite some time.

“You got it from here.”

His last words to Yuji. You almost have to scoff at the poeticness of it all — the same words Haibara had told him. The ones he hadn’t told you for nearly a decade, until one night he had told you what he said.

“And why didn’t you leave any words for me, Kento?” you ask the empty apartment before you, “for so long, we didn’t have each other — we couldn’t. And we finally find our way back, we finally do all the things we said we would — you’re gone, again,” your voice breaks, “I wish, I wish you were here. I wish I could see you. I wish—” and you break off.

There’s no point for wishing for things that can’t happen. You had things to do, and little time to waste. You needed to get stronger too. You needed to be useful. You needed to fight. You couldn’t tarnish Kento’s memory, or — you look at a picture that you had taken of him and Yuji a few days before outside a convenience store you had stopped by after a mission — his legacy.

You searched for the things you needed, placing them in cloth bags and then paper bags for easy and inconspicuous transport, but you needed to label them. You searched your apartment for a pen — but apparently you had misplaced every single one that you had — where the hell were all the pens? A question you’d usually ask Kento and he’d produce one from thin air. No matter what you lost or what you needed — he had it.

He always had it.

If he did always have what you needed, then maybe…you walk into the bedroom, over to his nightstand — he often kept a notebook for thoughts and notes in his bedside table so maybe—-

And there it was — a pen, but it wasn’t the pen that made you pause — it was the two things beside it.

A notecard and a ring box.

A ring box.

Your hands shake, and you almost want to close the drawer. Forget you say anything. Continue with the work you’re doing. It would hurt less.

But you can’t. You can’t.

You reach for the notecard first, fingers shaking as you gingerly pick it up — and you can tell this wasn’t the first he had written on. You could see the indentations from his pen, this card underneath the others as he had wrote. But his handwriting was neat, yet messy at the same time — his patented half print, half cursive scrawl that he hadn’t left.

Your legs buckle and you sit down on the edge of the bed — the side he used to sleep on, his arm wrapped around your waist, face buried in your back, his lips brushing against your skin when he finally stirred. And now it was empty.

My love, you don’t know how long I’ve wanted to ask you this. I’ve thought of ways to ask for years — I had to write it down just so I didn’t mince my words or ramble — you know I’m not one to drag out conversations. I love you. I’ve always loved you from the moment I met you — I know you’d tease me for pining for you, but I did pine for you and I’ve pined for you every second we’re apart. The other times I’ve wanted to ask you, the timing never worked out. But we have the time now, don’t we? Will you do me the honor of being your husband? I’ll spend every second making you happy, because that’s what you deserve, sweetheart. Only the best.

And your tears splatter against the corner of the card, before you put it down, as you let your sobs overcome you, screams you didn’t know you were capable of making— you didn’t even realize it was you, until your throat began to ache.

Why? Why? Why?

It wasn’t real, this wasn’t happening.

And your fingers reach for the ring box now, opening it only to feel more tears well — it was the ring you had showed him. One you had showed him one late night when it had showed up somewhere or another — you hadn’t even thought about the ring again. Until now.

You can’t bear to touch it. You can’t. Not when he wasn’t there to pull it from its box and slip it onto your finger. And he never would be. Not until you saw him again — one way or another.

You snap the box closed, tears slipping down your cheeks as you placed the box and card back into the drawer — noticing something else underneath — a printout? And you pull the papers out, scanning it.

You almost sob. A trip to Kuantan, Malaysia. The trip you two had talked about for months, but never had gone on. The trip was more for Kento than it was for you — and it was for you, in a way, because what you wanted the most was to just be with him. Time was all you wished for with him — all you wanted — but you knew you could have spent every moment with him for the last ten years and it wouldn’t have been enough.

It would never have been enough.

“I miss you,” you speak to the ghosts that fill your mind and haunt your dreams — Kento and Yu, “I hope you’re at peace. I hope you’re lying on a beach somewhere, reading the books you wanted to read, drinking an expensive drink, and eating the bread you love — I promise, I’ll find my way to you, someday,”

And you place the things back in the drawer, and shut it.

For now, you had other things to do. Other people to protect, other curses to exorcise. But — you stare at the picture of the two of you on your nightstand — his love was the one curse you could never give up.

Many months later.

You take that vacation he wanted. Packing the books he always wanted to read. Pocketing the ring he wanted to propose to you with. You’d pack a few shirts of his to wear on the beach, and maybe he would be lying beside you in spirit. You would find that beach he wanted to take you to — the one he had written down and had looked up several times while booking your trip.

You kept the seat beside you on the plane empty but you ordered a glass of wine and a sandwich for him regardless. You know you would have ended up ordering because he likely would have fallen asleep — old man he always was. And if you didn’t know better, you’d think he was sitting in the seat beside you.

He wasn’t dead. Not really, you think as you sit in the beach in one of his deep blue button ups thrown over your swimsuit, reading one of his books page by page, taking back the time that was stolen from him with your own — minutes and hours and days you’d wish you could take off your own and give to him.

He was alive, he was alive as long as you were, as long as the people who he was important to were alive. And he was alive — alive in your head and your heart and your very soul.

You read his proposal aloud as the sun sets, tears slipping down your face as you slip his ring onto your finger. And there it would stay.

Stayed all the seconds, minutes, hours, days, and years you lived -- lived in the house you built in Malaysia when all was said and done for you in the jujutsu world, just as Kento had wanted. Stayed until you finally saw him again. Saw him standing beside Haibara, softly smiling behind him, as your eyes fluttered open as he greeted you. Lips curled in that same smile that damned you from the moment you saw it.

“Don’t keep me waiting, love,” he smiles, the same words you had said to him, “we’ve both waited long enough, haven’t we?”

But neither of you had to wait anymore — as you run into his arms, warm and made of flesh and blood and real, so real — you had forever now.

✴︎ a/n: first, i'm so sorry lol. i don't know how the spirit of gege possessed me but i decided to inflict some pain. i have to thank @laneysmusings for proofing this for me and having to endure this pain. I also want to credit @/tempenensis for their post on haibara / jjk 120 that helped inspire/inform the third to last scene (but they don't like self-insert so i am not gonna tag them, but you should check out their tumblr!

✴︎ taglist: @your-local-simplol, @renawithane, @grooveandshit, @aemondseyesocket, @nitskilanara, @yunchans, @ackermanbby, @luminouslateralup, @multi-fandom3, @idktbhloley, @minteaful, @malleusmybelovedd, @lighttism, @lemonpoppy-seed, @nitskilanara, @wshwshi, @rreborn, @reyy-chanx, @kiradoki, @uroldall, @madam-milf, @elusivemoon

#sab [mlist]#nanami kento x reader #kento nanami x reader #nanami smut #kento nanami smut #kento nanami x you #jjk smut #jjk x reader #nanami fanfiction #kento nanami angst #jjk angst #nanami x you #nanami x reader

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flynnriderishot · 2 months

Note

Chris giving reader his hoodie even though they are just friends but like each other secretly

friendly cuddles - c.s

you stood outside a restaurant in LA with madi, the triplets and nathan (who was visiting from boston) as you waited for them to get the other guests seated before letting you in.

nick had made plans for all of you to go out to dinner before nate had to go home, wanting his friends last night in LA to be with everyone.

despite having on a relatively warm outfit, especially compared to madi’s, you were still shivering up a storm in your space between nick and chris. the movements were enough for nick to speak up about it,

“why are you shaking like that, girl?” nick looked away from the camera, the one recording for their vlog, and over to you.

“i’m cold.” you simply said, not feeling the need to push the matter any further.

“how?” madi furrowed her brows, a small smile covering her features, “you’re wearing more clothes than me.”

it was true.

while she wore a dress and a thin jacket, you opted for something on the more comfortable, yet cute side.

“she gets cold easily.” your bestfriend, chris spoke up for you, silently removing his own jacket to wrap around your shoulders, unaware of the eyes watching his every movement.

he stepped behind you so the natural heat coming from his body could push towards you. you sighed contently, wanting to melt in his arms at the contact.

from the corner of your eye, you could see matt and nate share a look, the pair of friends raising their brows at one another.

it was no secret within the friend group that you and chris felt some way about each other.

even you and chris knew you liked one another.

the only thing was that even after the many hints and obvious signs that you two liked each other, you both weren’t very good with commitment — far too scared of getting hurt, so your relationship now was something you were both completed okay with.

you weren��t too good with communication either.

you sort of just came to a silent agreement that you were together without actually being together. best friends who cuddle and hold hands but never risk furthering the relationship by kissing. but neither of you would dare to talk to anyone else romantically.

“how cute is that?” nick teased, earning an eye roll from chris, the boy wrapping his arms over your shoulders, fully pressing his chest to your back.

he let out a small hum. he could smell the perfume he got you for your birthday waft towards him, almost tempting him in a way, begging him to pull you closer.

he prayed that you wouldn’t feel the intense pounding of his heart through the large amount of fabric covering your goosebump covered skin.

“so cute that it makes me wanna spew.” nathan smiled, holding his hand to his chest.

“you guys are hilarious.” chris mocked them, subconsciously rocking your bodies side to side.

“i know we are. what’s even more hilarious is your denial of love.”

“we’re not denying anything…”

“yeah, there’s nothing wrong with friendly cuddles.”

“we know how we feel and we’re fine where we’re at.” chris finished, earning a nod of agreement from you.

it wasn’t a lie. you were both completely fine how you were as of right now. conversations need to be had eventually. but for now, you were chill.

“and now you’re finishing each others sentences?” matt gasped playfully, earning laughs from the other three, “you’re practically married already.”

“bro, shut up. like she said, it’s just friendly cuddles.”

despite pretending he didn’t care, chris’ couldn’t help the way his cheeks warmed up. he pulled you closer to him, if that were even possible, pressing a very friendly kiss to the top of you head.

taglist: @hearts4chris @timmyandsturniolo @mayhem-72 @luvsturns @knowingnothingnoel @mrsmattyb @itzdarling @julliaaaaaaaaaaaaa @dracoflaco @heartsforchrisandmatt @lily-strnlo @alliehansson @stinkytwinkwinky

#sturniolo triplets #nick sturniolo #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo

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chelseeebe · 4 months

Text

still into you

after abruptly leaving hawkins (and you) seven years ago, eddie munson, ex-boyfriend turned rockstar, makes a grand return. how will things pan out when your lives couldn’t be further apart?

this has been in the drafts for god knows how long and you can definitely tell where my writing started to improve as i came back to it.. hope y’all enjoy anyway! this is so long good lord. also includes a bit of bestfriendism with stevie!

18+. mdni. smut. mentions of alcohol. eddie is a dickhead. no use of y/n!

read part two here.

‎♡‧₊˚

‘you know he’s coming back next weekend?’ steve mutters, nodding towards you as you rip the sellotape from the brown box, beginning to stack the cans of soup.

‘is he? oh my god oh my god,’ feigning excitement with a straight face.

you’d already known he was coming back, you’d received the invitation just like everybody else. except, you’d swiftly put the gimmicky piece of paper into the trash and got on with your day. confused why everyone else seemed to be losing their goddamn minds over it.

he huffs quietly, helping you with the heavy tins, ‘are you gonna go?’ steve didn’t actually work in melvalds but came in on his breaks purely to chat and distract you from your work.

‘am i gonna go? hmm, let me think.. no.’

‘he wants to see you.. you should come,’ prodding his elbow into your side, collapsing the box into a flat piece of cardboard.

‘you spoke to him?’ ears perking up. you didn’t care if he’d mentioned you. no, really.

‘yeah.. he called a few weeks ago, y’know when the invitations got sent out,’ picking up the next box to start filling the shelf.

‘oh! it’s nice to know he called you and just hilarious to know i never got a phone call,’ getting frankly quite sick of hearing about eddie fucking munson and his grand return.

once upon a time, eddie had actually been your boyfriend. must’ve been 7 or so years ago by this point.. anyway, that was before he’d got his big break and decided that he was going to completely forget about hawkins.. and about you. you’d still been together after his first tiny tour, excitedly waiting for him to come home when he just.. never did.

he’d had the decency to at least call and tell you that he was breaking up with you.. we’re just in different places right now.. it’s not you.. i don’t want you to ruin your life waiting for me..

it was essentially a whole bunch of bullshit, because the very next month he was spotted with some bottle blonde model looking suspiciously close at some club he’d have absolutely hated the year prior. it was like a punch to the gut, flicking through the pages of the trashy magazine just knowing that you hadn’t been enough for this new lifestyle of his.

from then on, you’d decided to disengage with any and everything about him. turning the tv off when corroded coffin came on one of the morning talk shows, leaving the room at parties when one of his song’s inevitably came on and just completely blanking out of the conversation when his name was brought up. it was easier that way, saved your feelings and the awkward glances you’d get.

at some point things had become slightly more complicated and you’re not sure how exactly it had happened but you had wound up pregnant. and by jason carver no less. maybe it was your shared disdain for eddie that had brought you together. who knows?

but it had happened and now you had to deal with it. and although jason may come in a close second to world’s biggest assholes.. you had gained a beautiful daughter from it all and had become quite content with your single mom life.

people had come and gone, robin jetting off to some fancy college in california.. jonathan and nancy ending up in new york at some hot-shot newspaper.. the kids you’d sort of gathered had all gone off to various colleges, becoming adults themselves. all except for steve.

steve had stayed in hawkins like you, begrudgingly following his father’s footsteps, getting a job at his accounting firm. it was good money and kept his dad happy so he couldn’t fault it really. he’d even got his own place just down the street from your house and at some point you’d just accepted that he was probably your only friend in hawkins.

it had brought the two of you undeniably closer and maybe you’d even call him your best friend now. well, except for right now as he was beginning to piss you off with all this fussing over eddie.

‘you have to come.. it’s not just for him, everyone is going.. it’s a reunion,’ steve continues to pester you despite your efforts to shut him down.

‘steve, i’m not going and that’s that.’

he sighs, staring at you with a blank expression, ‘okay, well.. i’ll tell him it’s a maybe,’ checking his watch before frowning, ‘shit, i’m late.. i’ll see you later,’ throwing the empty cardboard to the floor before dashing off down the aisle, giving you an exaggerated wave as he disappears.

you just knew that he was not going to drop this until you agreed to go. but he could kick and scream as much as he liked, you had absolutely zero desire to go this flimsy reunion and even less desire to see eddie in the flesh.

it’s another dull week of stacking shelves and managing a team of absolute morons and before you know it, it’s the day before that fucking reunion and steve is still as incessant as ever that you must go.

‘my mom can look after ella.. please just come,’ he sounded like he was a second away from getting on his knees to actually beg you to go.

you’d started to just ignore him now, getting on with whatever you were doing, choosing to give him the silent treatment. he hated that.

‘you’re so annoying,’ he scoffs, still helping you unbox the bags of chips, ‘will you just come for five minutes.. you don’t even have to talk to eddie, it’s the first time we’ll all be together again.. puh-leaseee,’ breaking into a weird sort of sing-song tone.

you exhale through your nose, visibly frustrated by the man, ‘i’m going to ban you in a minute,’ raising your eyebrows, taking the same tone you used when ella was being a brat.

‘no you won’t,’ furrowing his brows, ‘what if i promise to stand in between you the whole night? i’ll beat him with a stick if he even tries to talk to you,’ completely serious with what he just said.

you chortle, covering your mouth as one of the elderly customers walks past, slightly bewildered by the noise that just escaped your mouth, ‘couldn’t you just beat him with a stick anyway?’

‘ehh.. not really, he is paying for the whole thing,’ straightening the bags of air he’d just placed on the shelf, ‘i mean, i could if you really want me to.’

you roll your eyes, of course he was. he’d rented the fanciest restaurant just outside of town for your gaggle of pals. any chance to flaunt the fact that he’d made it out of this hell hole and left the rest of you in the dirt.

‘i have a child, steve, i can’t just go out and leave her at home.. some of us aren’t free like you are,’ turning to face him with a stern hand on your hip.

‘i just told you my mom’ll look after her.. she hasn’t seen her in so long and.. and you can stay at mine and i’ll take you to her first thing in the morning,’ his eyes are round, glimmering in the harsh overhead lights.

‘i don’t have anything to wear,’ shrugging, you really didn’t. becoming a mother isn’t quite so glamorous and a lot of clothes you’d once fit into had become a little tight.

‘when d’you finish?’

narrowing your eyes at him, ‘two..’

‘great.. okay well, i’ll take a half-day and we can go shopping.. on me,’ wiggling his eyebrows at you. the thing about steve is that he believes that most problems can be solved by throwing money at it.

he wasn’t wrong, of course.

because you reluctantly agree to go shopping with him on the condition that you weren’t definitely going to this thing. you were just going to try on dresses. that was it.

you get a cab to the restaurant, there was no way in hell you were doing this sober nor did you want to subject steve to being sober for your sake. palms clammy as you clamber out of the vehicle, immediately regretting your decision.

no one would care if you didn’t go, right? you could quite easily just get back into the taxi and go home without forcing yourself to endure the night.

steve’s one step ahead of you, grabbing your hand so you can’t run away. throwing him an awful glare but you weren’t really mad, just annoyed that he’d succeeded in persuading you to come.

‘c’mon.. it won’t be so bad once you’re in there,’ smoothing down his fresh shirt as he begins to walk up the winding path, dragging you along behind him.

he’s wrong. it’s so much worse inside. the place was huge, extravagantly decorated and full of people you’d once regarded as your best friends, all too busy in their own conversations to notice you and steve walk in.

it wasn’t like you hadn’t heard from them, it had just been through occasional letters and christmas cards rather than seeing them face to face. robin would call sometimes, fill you in on whatever she had been up to and beg to speak to ella who absolutely loved it. you were sure they were on the same wavelength.

you look to steve with wary eyes, digging your fingertips into his hand, ‘we could just leave right now.. no one would even know,’ tugging gently on his arm.

‘hey,’ he whispers, ‘it’s okay.. look, robin’s coming over, we’ll say hi and see how you feel,’ using his spare hand to wave at the bubbly girl, dropping your hand to give her a hug.

‘oh my god,’ she rushes, ‘how are you? you look so good.. and i don’t mean you,’ pulling away from steve to throw her arms around you, her gentle hands rubbing on your back.

‘hah, it’s nice to see you too,’ steve rolls his eyes, grabbing two of the champagne flutes being ferried around by fancy waiters.

she pulls back, ‘i didn’t think you were coming.. how are you doing? how’s ella?’ the words falling out of her mouth at super speed, it was as if her mouth moved before her brain did.

‘i wasn’t gonna but i wanted to see you guys,’ you nod, taking the glass from steve’s outstretched hand and taking a lengthy sip, ‘i’m okay.. ella’s okay.. you’ll have to come and see her before you leave.’

‘i will i will! i literally landed like two hours ago and had to rush but i’m back until friday,’ her hands flying around as she spoke, ‘come and say hello..’ her arm intertwines with yours as she leans in closer to your ear, ‘he’s staring y’know..’

your eyes roll back on their own, not even wanting to search the room for him, ‘i’m not speaking to him so he can stare all he likes,’ straightening up as you approach the group robin had left.

nancy’s talking to max about something in incredible detail but is quite to stop when you approach, mouth in a small ‘o’ as she hugs you, ‘you came? i thought we were gonna miss you,’ grinning wide when she pulls back.

you give an overdramatic sigh, ‘of course i had to come.. you’d all miss me too much,’ waving to the rest of the group.

there are a lot of small pleasantries swapped, asking about their journey’s here and how they’d been.. standard small talk. but then el asks to see a picture of ella, ecstatic that their names were so similar. you’d come prepared, pulling the creased picture out of your bag.

they all gush and coo over her, it was a picture you’d snapped from her first day of kindergarten, cheesing with her pigtails and pink hair bobbles. passing it around the gathered group, still steadily sipping on the bitter champagne.

‘who’s that?’ eddie asks, you hadn’t noticed him sidle over to the crowd, stood peering over lucas’ shoulder at the photograph.

your eyes meet his, seeing his face for the first time in what felt like centuries. he looked older, obviously, still sporting the same long curls except now it actually looked as if it’d been styled. he’s in a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up, forearms now littered with tattoos and a nice looking watch. your heart just about stops beating when you realise you’ll now have to explain exactly who that is.

‘uh.. that’s ella,’ you nod, not quite meeting his eyes, ‘..my daughter,’ taking the photo from lucas’ hand, the atmosphere had quite suddenly shifted and people begin to scatter, starting their own conversations so they don’t have to bare witness to this one.

‘oh.. oh, right.. well, congratulations then,’ the shadow of a smile on his lips, could he feel how fucking awkward this was?

‘thank you,’ giving him a half nod, startled as steve’s hand brushes the small of your back. he’d seen that you were in conversation and had left dustin to fulfil his security guard promise.

‘it’s nice that you two found each other.. you have a beautiful daughter,’ still not fully committed to smiling but he was getting there.

your face contorts, immediately looking to steve before letting out a god awful cackle, ‘oh no.. she’s not steve’s,’ covering your mouth before another taunting laugh comes out.

steve is trying to stifle his grin but fails, reaching his hand out to shake eddie’s hand, ‘ah man, no ella’s not mine but she is beautiful, isn’t she? how are you?’

you’re eternally grateful that he he’s managed to sway the conversation and you aren’t forced to explain why or how you’d had a child with jason fucking carver. turning back to robin as you hear steve ramble on about work and corroded coffin’s new album, something you had absolutely no care about.

‘shall we get another drink?’ robin asks, eyeing the open bar and your empty glass.

‘please.’

the rest of the night is going.. relatively well. it’s kinda unsettling to watch the younger kids drink legally, getting more boisterous and loud as the night progresses. it’s nice, if not a little sad just thinking about how you weren’t really able to enjoy yourself at their age because you had a newborn.

you must’ve been deep in thought as you don’t even notice eddie creep up to the empty table, standing awkwardly besides your chair, ‘can we talk?’

your eyes shoot up to meet his, baffled by his presence, ‘what could we possibly have to talk about?’

he exhales through his nose, ‘uh.. a lot? we don’t have to do it here.. i have a room upstairs or.. outside?’

‘no,’ gripping onto your glass of wine, desperately trying to grab the attention of someone behind eddie to come and save you, ‘i don’t want to speak to you.’

he’s exasperated, clutching onto his beer with strained white knuckles. how were you ever supposed to move past this when you wouldn’t even give him the opportunity to explain himself. but that was exactly it. you didn’t care about any of the silly excuses you’re sure he’d conjured up, he did what he did and that was that.

‘i’m trying here..’ sounding exasperated, ‘how ‘bout dinner? sometime this week, on me,’ his voice is deeper now, raspier. you figure as a result of constant partying and chain smoking while on tour.

‘i have a child and a job.. i don’t have time for dinner with you on top of that,’ swallowing the rest of the sweet white wine, putting the empty glass back on the table with a forceful slam.

you make brief eye contact with will who was passing behind eddie and decide to take the opportunity to pounce, standing from your chair and rushing over the second he nears your table.

‘will.. hey,’ speeding to catch him up, mouthing a small save me, clinging to his arm as you move away from eddie who was stood deflated at the table.

will thankfully catches your drift, steering you towards the bar, ‘you okay? i was just about to leave..’ placing his empty glass onto the bar with a soft sigh.

‘what? no.. if i can’t go then you’re not allowed either,’ talking sternly to the boy even though he now towered above you and just about everybody else in here.

he screws up his face, looking over to the dance floor, ‘it’s just..’ sighing once again, ‘awful, isn’t it?’ following his gaze to an intoxicated mike performing an elaborate air guitar routine in the middle of the floor.

it wasn’t exactly the same, but you could empathise with the difficult situation and that foul feeling in your stomach that you were sure he could feel too. you could imagine that it wasn’t easy to see the man you’d once, or perhaps still loved after so long. in fact, you didn’t really need to imagine at all.

deciding it was better to change the subject, distract him from the unraveling scene on the dance floor, ‘d’you smoke?’

he looks around quickly, watching out for a listening jonathan, you assume before he nods quickly, ‘but no one can know,’ a hint of a smile creeping onto his face.

you return the devilish grin before hooking your arm in his, pulling him towards the door where you could get the hell away from annoying men and their long black hair.

it’s gone three by the time you get back to steve’s, genuinely having to coax him from the party and into the cab you’d shared with a belligerent dustin, making sure he had got home safely.

‘i wasn’t too mean, was i?’ snuggled up in steve’s blankets, facing each other in the low light of his room.

‘nooo, no you were on fire,’ he laughs, he was still tipsy and slightly reeking of booze as he lay next to you.

‘really? you’re sure?’ he was definitely just drunk and blabbing on but you’d take it.

‘yes.. it was perfect,’ he hiccups, interrupting his sentence, ‘buuut.. and i’m not the only one who said this so don’t kill me..’ kissing the back of his teeth, ‘you’re not gonna like what i have to say.’

‘what? what is it?’ prodding his shoulder with a quick jab. knowing eddie, he’d probably gone round the party whispering some bullshit about the two of you.

‘well..’ holding his hands in the air, ‘there’s still chemistry there.. y’know i could see it,’ raising his eyebrows, hands collapsing onto the blanket.

‘right, i’m going to sleep.. you’re drunk and just saying stupid shit now,’ rolling your eyes as you settle into the soft pillow, closing your eyes so you no longer had to entertain his idiotic nonsense.

he chortles, hiccuping mid-laugh which makes a horrid choking noise, ‘i’m not that drunk.. robin said it too,’ the lamp clicks off, darkening the room, ‘and dustin..’

‘go to sleep steve,’ unamused and tired.

‘okay okay.. goodnight,’ he calls, you can hear the smile in his voice as he turns to face the other way, taking that as your opportunity to rest your head on his back, nuzzling into the soft cotton t-shirt.

monday is particularly awful and you’re reminded exactly why you don’t drink often. two days on and you’re still exhausted, half-heartedly filling the shelves and just trying to make it to two o’clock.

in your tired state, one of the bottles of shampoo you were putting out, falls out of your hand and rolls off somewhere down the aisle. you sigh, a deep, fed-up, exhaustive sigh and get up to go and fetch it when the bottle appears before your face, a tattooed, ring-filled hand latched onto it.

‘carver? really?’ eddie frowns, watching you from above, eyebrows furrowed together.

you place the bottle onto it’s rightful spot on the shelf and choose to ignore him. if he’d come all the way down here just to piss you off about your poor life choices then he could get fucked.

‘when’d that happen?’

blanking him again as you continue to put stuff onto the shelves. this was the easiest way to guarantee that you weren’t going to get yourself fired for being rude to him.

‘you gonna ignore me? i just wanna know,’ still poking and prodding, he clearly wasn’t very good at picking up on context clues.

nothing.

‘fuck, can you just talk to me for five minutes?’ your silence was driving him crazy, aggravating him to no end.

‘i’m at work, so no,’ hurriedly trying to finish the stock you had so you had an excuse to rush out the back and away from him.

he was fortunate that it was a quiet monday, the store full of mostly older ladies who had no idea who he was. you sorta hoped that he’d get mobbed and would have to hurry off and leave you alone.

‘why jason? out of literally everyone else in this shithole you choose jason?’ screwing his face up in disgust.

you slam the box cutter down with a loud clatter, causing a few turned heads and raised eyebrows. fuck ‘em. if you had done what you’d really wanted to do, you’d be locked up forever.

‘i don’t know if you remember this but my boyfriend of like, two years ran away and never came home so yeah.. that kinda fucked with me a little and lucky for me, jason carver was there and also hated my ex’s guts.. so it was perfect, you know?’ staring flatly at him, you were not dealing with his shit today.

eddie scoffs, ‘so you had a kid with him? and now.. what? you play happy families just to spite me? is that it?’

‘yes eddie, i had a whole child just to piss you off.’

he gawps back at you, clearly also did not possess the ability to sense sarcasm.

‘no,’ scowling at him, ‘it was an accident and now he’s.. i dunno, coaching basketball at some school in ohio or some shit.. why don’t you go and bother him?’

‘so you’re not together?’

you can only roll your eyes in response, in sheer disbelief that he’d made such a fuss because he couldn’t just outright ask if you were single.

un-fucking-believable.

you’ve had just about enough of this conversation, pulling your little trolley back towards the swing doors that lead to the warehouse. at least he wasn’t allowed in there.

‘wait! wait..’ he grabs onto the other side of the trolley, stopping you from walking off, ‘have dinner with me tonight or.. tomorrow?’ eyes big and pleading.

‘now why would i do that?’

‘because i want to explain myself.. i need to.’

one of the younger shoppers notices who he is and begins trying to talk to him, coming over to where you two stood rather excitedly. eddie is kind enough to smile and give her a few polite words, eyes still latched onto yours despite the ecstatic woman beside him.

‘okay,’ honestly just wanting to get away from all this commotion, ‘tomorrow.’

his scowl subsides, replaced by a gleaming grin, ‘six o’clock.. pino’s, i’ll sort it, okay?’ already starting to walk away from the crazy woman.

‘right,’ you nod, pulling your trolley away and into the back warehouse, leaning against the concrete wall. the whole exchange was tiring, knocking whatever tiny bit of energy out of you.

were you actually gonna go?

absolutely fucking not.

by the time six rolls around the next night, you really had forgotten all about it. rushing to get ella her dinner after swimming lessons, already worrying about paying for yet another field trip she’d sprung on you earlier. you’d begun to wonder if they even taught in the classrooms anymore with the amount of permission slips she brought home.

she’s finally settled into bed, after much protesting and a lot of coaxing. you’re just about to finally relax on the couch when someone hammers on your front door. and if you weren’t already pissed off with ella’s whining, you were most definitely about to be with whichever mindless prick was banging on your door.

‘what do you want?’ you hiss, jerking the door open to reveal a pathetic looking eddie on the other side, face forlorn and dejected.

he’s in that white shirt again. it makes you sick to your stomach to admit that it really does look good on him. his arms now more defined, the cotton sticking to his muscles, briefly showcasing the new tattoos underneath. maybe he’d actually got off of his ass and did something other than smoke weed all day.

‘oh so you are alive, d’you forget about something?’ he’s snarling now, having conjured up some elaborate excuse in his head as to why you hadn’t showed, only to find you at home, seemingly with no care in the world.

‘oops,’ the corners of your mouth twitching into a smile, you hadn’t even actually meant to stand him up, you were just gonna call his hotel and cancel but the thought had just completely slipped your mind.

and even if it shouldn’t, it really did feel good. knowing he was the one sat waiting for you for once.

‘oops? i sat there for an hour waiting for you and then spent the last hour trying to convince dustin to give me your fucking address.. and all you can say is oops?’

you shrug, ‘feels pretty shitty to be forgotten about, doesn’t it?’ tilting your head, watching as his face falls. he’d been got.

‘okay.. okay, i get it, and i’m sorry.. there’s not a day that goes by that i don’t feel like shit for how i treated you,’ his head dips low, looking particularly sorry for himself.

and for a second you do too. not that he deserved it. quickly having to remind yourself exactly what he had done to you, which was not at all helped by the fact that he now had everything he’d ever wanted in life.

and you couldn’t fault your life. truly. but fuck did it sting sometimes, to know that your life had stagnated, stuck in the same shitty town you’d grown up in while he was on the other side of the country, more money than sense and a hoard of doting fans that would do absolutely anything he’d ask of them.

‘good,’ you bark, going to slam the door shut only for it to bang against his black boot wedged in the door, ‘if you don’t move your foot i’ll- i’ll call the police.’

‘no you won’t,’ his hand reaches out to grab onto the other side of the handle, he could’ve easily pushed his way in if he’d really wanted, ‘let’s talk.. like adults,’ begging you now, ‘please.’

you huff, this would end with you either letting him in or being forced to wake ella after you bashed his head into the doorframe. it was easier to just accept the first option and you’d find some bullshit to get him to leave later on.

opening the door wider to let him in, keeping your eyes square on the ground as he walks through, peering around at your home. probably comparing it to his mansion in the hollywood hills the pretentious fuck.

‘nice..’ he nods, leaning in to look at the photo of you and ella a few christmas’ ago, she was tiny then, sporting a miniature santa hat.

‘yeah well, she’s asleep upstairs so.. make it quick,’ you frown, closing the door behind him, watching as his eyes take in the cluttered room, smile fading when he catches sight of the singular picture you have up of jason and ella.

‘i can’t believe you chose to fuck jason of all people.. i mean, i’ve made some shitty decisions in my life but..’ he stops himself from going any further when he sees your face, if looks could kill, he’d be long gone by now.

‘did you come here for a reason? or are you here to talk about my life decisions.. because i really don’t want to hear it from you,’ crossing your arms over your chest, wanting him out of your house.

‘no.. no, shit- i’m sorry,’ he shuffles on his feet, banging his head, ‘i wanna talk.. properly.’

you roll your hand to motion for him to continue, ‘go on..’

he inhales, chewing on the inside of his cheek, trying to psyche himself up to actually say what he wanted to say. it wasn’t that he didn’t know what to say, he just couldn’t string it together to make sense.

‘i’m sorry for the way i treated you.. it wasn’t right and i know that now,’ his hand coming to rub the back of his clammy next, why was your house so fucking hot?

‘okay.. apology accepted, was that everything?’ you say flatly, glancing up the stairs to make sure ella wasn’t awake and out of her room.

his face falls, ‘can you just.. just let me explain,’ his adam apple bobbing as he swallows, ‘why don’t you sit down..’ motioning towards your ratty couch.

you relent your stern stature, hesitantly going to sit on the couch, trying to ensure that he couldn’t possibly sit next to you by sprawling your legs out onto the empty cushion. so he takes the seat furthest away, running his hands down his tight jeans. designer, no less.. the only person you knew stupid enough to spend thousands on designer jeans just to tear holes in them.

‘when i ended things with you, i wasn’t.. well, it was me, but i had my manager screaming in my ear that it’d never work and he could hook me up with some fuckin’ model.. it’d help the band.. so that’s what i did,’ and for once, he looked genuinely remorseful, fiddling with the loose threads on his expensive jeans.

‘so you sold out? that’s your excuse?’

his head shoots up, mouth hung open with absolute disgust all over his face, ‘i am not a sell out.’

which is incredibly refutable, you’d heard a snippet of one of their recent songs on the radio at work and it had sounded exactly like the commercial shit he used to rag on when you were together. not a touch on the corroded coffin you sat and watched practice for hours on end.

‘oh? so you didn’t break up with me to further your career? you just wanted to fuck hot models? which one is it ‘cause i’m a little confused here,’ completely losing it, springing up from your slouched position.

‘okay, yeah.. yeah i did, i broke up with you because i wanted to fuckin’ make something of my life.. and look at where i am and look at-,’

‘-don’t you dare finish that sentence,’ you snap, gritting your teeth together as you near his face, positively shaking with rage.

‘what’re you gonna do? you gonna hit me? do it,’ his chin tilted to match your elevated position, eyes glued to yours.

‘i should.’

his lips twitch into a smirk, ‘you won’t.’

and before your brain has the time to really process your next movements, he balls his fist into your t-shirt, causing your chest to collide into his as his lips smash into yours, knocking the air out of your lungs.

scrambling to find his shoulders for balance, sliding one hand onto his stubbly cheek. it’s all teeth and tongues, he’s ravenous and unrelenting, letting go of his grip on your shirt to place his hands on your hips, ‘move,’ mumbling against your lips as he attempts to manoeuvre you onto his lap while twisting around.

he slides down the couch, keeping a solid hold of your body as you find the right position. your legs are either side of his waist, sliding into the gap between his body and the couch sitting right on his crotch. wasting absolutely zero time in connecting your lips against, honestly not wanting to run the risk of him opening his mouth and ruining this.

his large hands find solace on your ass, creeping up to remove the oversized shirt you’d thrown on. you place your hand above his, restricting him from moving any further. it’s not that you were embarrassed- okay, maybe you were a little. but your body had changed since becoming a mom and eddie had become accustomed to gorgeous models and perfect women that he’d certainly not want to see your boring, frumpy mom body.

he groans in protest, trying again to lift the shirt further only for your fingernails to dig into his hand, ‘no,’ speaking into the filthy kiss.

eddie pulls away from the kiss, fingers coming to gently brush the hair from your face, ‘you can’t be serious? i’ve seen it all before,’ he grumbles, fingers itching to try lift it again.

‘not like this you haven’t.. i just.. want it on, okay?’

‘no- why won’t you let me take this off?’ fingers curling around the hem, already trying his luck with getting it up again.

you sigh, meeting his blown out eyes with your glossy ones, ‘i don’t even know what i’m doing.. fuck,’ attempting to climb off of his lap while the spare hand he has on your ass clamps you down, keeping you pressed to him.

‘hey.. hey, keep it on.. i don’t care,’ already trying to chase your lips, ‘i’m just saying, you don’t need to,’ the denim covering his growing erection starting to rub against your throbbing clit, the sparse material of your pajama shorts were not leaving much to the imagination.

‘jesus christ, just take it off,’ giving up in your protest, it was useless against eddie’s persistence.

you press your lips to his the second your shirt is off, there was no time to judge your body if he couldn’t see it. pulling at his jacket to get it off, the metal buttons digging into your now bare skin.

‘i didn’t.. i didn’t mean.. what i said..’ babbling through the kiss as he shimmies out of the jacket, landing on the floor with a soft thud.

‘shut up,’ you whine, running your hand along the length of his chest until you reach the hem of his black shirt, gripping your fingers around the fabric and lifting it slightly, exposing his midriff, the soft trail of hair ascending the skin.

his head jerks backwards, allowing you to tug the shirt off, finally allowing his eyes to wander to your chest. ‘holy shit,’ he remarks like he’d never seen a pair of tits before. it’s futile for him to pretend that he hadn’t seen some amazing boobs in his time so you scoff, rolling your eyes.

working your hand at his belt buckle, fiddling with the metal until it pops undone. he’s hard already and it makes you groan, brushing your hand over the raised denim. this week seriously must’ve been difficult if he was getting hard so easily over you.

it doesn’t ever occur to you how much of a mistake this was. and even if it did, you didn’t have much time to ponder on it as his hands are grabbing at your breasts, palming them as his lips suck at your jaw and down onto your neck softly. guaranteed to leave a lovely violet mark that the old ladies at work would certainly gasp at.

he’s helping you with his jeans, one hand gripping onto your waist to keep you steady as he lifts his hips from the couch and the other hurriedly yanking them down just enough to reveal his boxers. that’s the next port of call, fingers grabbing at the thin black cotton, pulling them down his thighs as his cock springs into action.

eddie’s lips are still on your neck while you mindlessly wrap your hand around his cock, pumping your fist as you shuffle upwards. his breath hitches in his throat, still peppering sloppy kisses to the sensitive skin.

‘oh god,’ he whines into your collarbone, feeling his eyelashes flutter against your jaw. for a man who had been painted as womaniser in the media, he sure was still just as pathetic as he used to be underneath you.

you’re a little annoyed that it’s you who’s taking control right now. after so many years of disrespect from his end, you think he at least owed it to you to take charge.

your hand grabs onto his shoulder, pulling his face from your neck, ‘be quiet, okay?’ sitting taller to position yourself comfortably, the harsh fabric of the couch grazing your knees.

he nods, sliding his hand up your waist and back to your hip, taking in the sight of you. you wouldn’t ever admit it aloud, but truthfully, you really did miss him sometimes. missed the way his pretty pink lips looked after being glued to yours or the way he gazed at you doing the most mundane tasks.

you cant your hips, sinking down onto his length slowly, biting down onto your bottom lip as his cock fills you to the hilt. his eyelids flicker, fingernails digging into your doughy hips. it’s been a little while since you’d done this so you have to take a second to become accustomed to the slight stretch. it’s good, in the most masochistic way.

your hands cling onto his shoulders, watching his slack jaw, tiny breaths escaping from his mouth as you attempt to move. painstakingly slow at first, knees beginning to shake as you try to remember what you should even be doing. your cheeks flushing, feeling so incredibly embarrassed. the man was fucking models and then you’re here, pitifully trying to ride him. it’s awful, you know it’s awful.

his arm comes to snake around your waist, taking matters into his own hands and flipping the two of you around, your back suddenly pressed into the couch. holy shit. you appreciate the initiative, wrapping your legs around his waist, readjusting your grip on his shoulders.

‘need you a little faster than that darling,’ large hands digging into the couch either side of your head. you’d feel utterly mortified if you weren’t thoroughly enjoying the sight of him looming over you, his hair falling beautifully into your face.

eddie starts slow at first, moving his hips slowly, obviously well versed. your mouth opens but no noise escapes, well aware that you weren’t the only ones in your house. instead you pant softly, desperate for his lips to grace yours again.

it’s not long before he’s quickening his pace, unable to contain himself when you feel so perfect around him. ‘i missed you- fuck, i’ve missed you so much,’ he groans, keeping his voice low despite wanting to start screaming.

you don’t reply, too fucked-out to even think about words. eyes drooping as his cock nudges against the soft spongy spot no one other than him had been able to reach.

the couch creaks beneath you, the old thing unable to keep up with his rutting hips, the top of your head knocking into the arm rest every time his hips collided with yours. your living room had never bore witness to such filth and as quiet as you were trying to be, the sounds are indistinguishable.

having to bite down onto your lip when his thumb meets your clit, legs tightening around his waist with every soft circle he draws around the sensitive bud. eddie was never bad in bed but holy shit, maybe money had done something right for him.

he sits up, soft sighs falling out of his lips as his hand disconnects from your clit, sliding toward your knee and positioning your leg onto his shoulder. your nails press into his forearm, willing yourself to stay quiet even now he’s seemingly trying to kill you.

and through it all, he’s smirking. relishing the way you’re writhing around, trying not to cum when he nudges against that sweet, spongy spot this position allowed.

his thumb finds your clit again, ‘holy shit sweetheart.. you gonna cum?’ grunting softly with every thrust.

you’re positively wrecked beneath him, face pressed into the couch cushion as your stomach flips. panting into the fabric, incoherent ramblings of eddie’s name and a bunch of curse words fill the room.

‘cum for me baby.. shit,’ struggling to keep his own pace as you tighten around him, leg trembling around his neck as your orgasm takes over. pleasure overtaking your limbs as your hips buck instinctively, thankfully muffled by the couch.

‘oh my god,’ you breathe, struggling to see straight when your eyes eventually reopen, gazing up at eddie above, certain he’s about to draw blood from his teeth digging in to his lip.

‘where.. where shall i- shit,’ he squeezes out, feeling his hips begin to stutter, eyes rolling to the back of his head. he’s just about quick enough to pull out, thick ropes of cum paint your thighs. narrowly avoiding the couch.

if you had the energy to get annoyed, you would’ve snapped, but in all honesty, your brain was still reeling and anger was the last thing you felt.

eddie reaches over, ever the gentleman and grabs his shirt to clean his mess. didn’t matter to him obviously, he had more than enough money to buy another.

and there it is. the bitterness filling your body again the second he’s no longer on top of you, or inside of you rather. you attempt to bite it down.

‘you wanna talk now?’ he asks, pulling his boxers back up to a more respectable position.

‘i’m tired eddie,’ and you are, on a school night like tonight you’d have been fast asleep by now.

he sighs, shoulders slumping over. even after you’d just had the most mind-altering sex, you couldn’t speak to him. ‘please,’ pleading with you almost, desperate for one more chance.

maybe it’s the exhaustion or maybe the dopamine still pumping through your brain but you concede, pulling your shirt back over your head before motioning for him to speak.

‘i don’t have any excuses, i’m just-,’ he sighs, turning on the couch to face you fully, ‘i’m sorry for hurting you, i was wrong and i know that,’ his eyes are dipped, peering at you from underneath his spindly lashes, ‘why d’you think i’ve avoided this place for so long?’

‘i don’t know? because you’re a pussy? because you’re too scared to face me?’ letting the words rattle off your tongue without much thought.

‘because i’m embarrassed,’ he corrects, without much offence, ‘because i’m ashamed and feel like i owe you more than some dick and a shitty apology.. i just didn’t know how i could ever make it up to you,’ half-moon eyes glossy in the low light.

your heart thumps in your chest, blood echoing through your ears. eddie munson, world renowned rockstar was sat on your couch, apologising for something you should’ve forgotten about a long time ago.

the years of hatred and avoidance come tumbling down in a millisecond. all you’d ever wanted was to hear him say sorry. to admit that he’d fucked you over for a life of fame and now you had it, you weren’t exactly sure what to even do with it.

‘okay.. now what? are you gonna make it up to me? because i want to believe you eddie, i do.. but you can’t just traipse in here and expect me to forgive you like that,’ the tears roll over, sliding down your warm cheeks.

he nods, grabbing onto your hands in a last ditch gesture to show his sincerity, ‘i’m going to.. i-i want to,’ he’s still nodding, bringing his face closer to yours, ‘tell me how, i’ll do anything,’ adam’s apple bobbing with every word.

‘stay here,’ your eyes are trained on him, ignoring the blurred vision, ‘not forever, just for now,’ lips pursed, ready to be broken once more.

you half-expect him to come out with some sorry excuse, tell you he had to get back to his hotel so he couldn’t possible stay here.

but he doesn’t.

eddie takes your hand, tugging it gently and with words you don’t register, babbles something about bed. so you follow him, allowing him to guide you to your room and slide in between the sheets next to you.

everything is so gentle, soft and pure. something you hadn’t felt in a long time.

‘hey.. sweetheart,’ eddie’s hand gently shakes your arm, whispering into your ear, ‘you awake?’

you squint in the dim light, feeling his hand descend onto your waist, chest pressed against your back, ‘i am now,’ you grumble, it was early.. early even by ella’s standards.

‘i gotta go.. you got work today?’ he asks, making no effort to actually get up and leave your bed though.

you nod into the pillow, rubbing your sleep heavy eyes. in your sleep hazed state, you shuffle, moving backwards against him.

‘okay.. shit- don’t do that,’ strained as you shift against him, unknowingly brushing against his cock, ‘i’ll be back.. after you..’ he’s losing it a little now, ‘after you finish..’ lips pressed to your ear.

you were moving deliberately now, just ever-so-slightly rocking your hips back and forth, you could feel him growing against your ass.

‘i can’t..’ he groans, grip tightening on your hip,

‘please,’ you breathe, reaching backwards to find his mop of curls, taking a fistful for leverage as his own hip’s thrust into your backside, his low growls only spurring you on.

you had been on your own for so long now, could he really blame you?

eddie doesn’t leave for another hour, creeping out of your house with his head low and a shit eating grin plastered on his face.

the key turns in your door as you’re loading the dishwasher. you’d given steve a spare for emergencies but it seemed to get used for anything but.

he slinks into the kitchen where you stand with your back to him, ‘hey,’ already knowing who it was.

‘well hello,’ announcing his presence, something about his tone of voice already seemed off, he sounded short, annoyed almost, ‘how have you been?’

‘i’m good..’ you spin to face him, puzzled by his strange demeanour, ‘how are you?’

he’s holding onto something behind his back but you can’t quite catch a glimpse, ‘actually.. i’m a little pissed off,’ you can tell he’s not completely serious by the hint of a smile on his face.

‘hmm? why’s that?’

he looks around the room expectedly, ‘oh i don’t know.. you don’t have anything to tell me, do you?’ shaking his head, still gripping onto this mystery object.

‘no..’ narrowing your eyes, determining whether he knew what you thought he knew.

he did, he one hundred percent did. holy fuck. he’d figured you out already. eddie had opened his big, stupid mouth and told dustin, who would’ve told steve and god knows who else. fucking moron.

‘no? soo..’ his pulls the magazine from behind his back, flipping it to the page he’d already saved, ‘this isn’t real then?’ shoving the glossy pages into your face, ‘because to me.. this looks an awful lot like eddie.. at this very house,’ he jabs his finger at the pixelated image, ‘and this little blob here.. that’s you, no?’

you’re utterly gobsmacked. mouth hung open in pure shock. because that most definitely was eddie.. and your house.. and you. you hadn’t seen anyone with a camera, hell, you hadn’t seen anyone on the street at all.

‘and correct me if i’m wrong, but is this not our friend eddie leaving your house the next morning?’ showing the next image of him leaving your house the day after, hair unruly and messed up, holding his denim jacket in his arms as he climbs into his car.

your mouth moves but no words come out, croaking as you struggle to meet steve’s eyes. completely speechless, there was no feasible excuse. you had been caught with your pants down. literally.

‘i can explain,’ waving your hands around while steve stands smug against the kitchen counter. ‘..no i can’t,’ shoulders slumped as you blink at your best friend, no you really couldn’t. suppose you could’ve come up with some lie about a look-a-like you’d been seeing but that would’ve made you look particularly strange.

‘were you ever gonna tell me?’ he’s almost hurt that you hadn’t ran to him to tell him immediately. this was true best friend gossip and you’d kept him from it.

‘i was! steve.. i don’t even know what happened- he came over to apologise and then we were arguing and then.. then we had sex and it’s not my fault..’ you’re trying, and failing, to contain your smile, flashing your cheeky grin to your best friend in the hopes he would let this slide.

‘i can’t believe you didn’t tell me!’ jutting his bottom lip out, ‘so, you’re getting back together?’ his eyes sceptical yet sparkling with a sense of hope. you’re grateful that all he seems to care about is the fact you lied. or actually, withheld the truth as you preferred it.

‘no.. well.. no, we had dinner together yesterday and he might’ve stayed over but no..’ shaking your head, ‘he’s leaving again soon and we both know what happened last time..’ you shrug, leaning back against the counter, ‘i guess i don’t hate him now, that’s good isn’t it?’

steve looks perplexed, ‘wait wait wait.. so you’re just.. screwing around? and then he leaves again, that’s it? what’s the point?’ taking a seat at the small kitchen table, fully engrossed in the conversation.

‘i dunno.. i guess that’s it?’ you hadn’t really thought about the fact that he’d be leaving again, in fact, you hadn’t really had time to think much at all about what was happening.

you’d just sort of acknowledged that at some point he’d go back to california and you’d stay here and whatever was happening would.. end? it wasn’t as if you were going to be super upset about it like you once were. lots of people fuck their ex’s.. this was fine.

because that’s what this is, right?

just sex with an ex?

‘that’s it?’ steve reiterates, looking completely flabbergasted that the woman who once left the room whenever eddie munson’s name was mentioned was now being so casual about this.

‘yeah,’ you shrug, not wanting to make a massive deal out of it though you could always rely on steve to be over dramatic on your behalf.

‘no,’ he straightens up in the chair, ‘all of this can’t be for nothing,’ sounding utterly exasperated, ‘you two obviously belong together so why don’t you go for it? i could see you living it up out in la.. big house, big car-,’

you cut him off before he can divulge into his delusions any further, ‘i think you’re getting ahead of yourself steve,’ shaking your head at his ludicrous attitude.

you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about it once or twice but it seemed silly to start imagining this crazy life together after all these years. he’d barely just made it into your good graces again, you were hardly going to run off to california with him. it was utter delusion.

‘okay okay..’ he scoffs, ‘but i still think you need to talk to him. i don’t want you getting hurt again, okay? just make sure that you’re both on the same page,’ nodding as he stands from his seat and begins to rummage through your cupboards for something to eat.

he was probably right and you knew it deep down. you weren’t keen on being the one to bring the conversation up, not after that first night. after you had sobbed in his arms in bed, letting him soothe you to sleep with a bunch of probable empty promises.

when eddie lets himself into your house a few hours later, steve’s eyebrows fly up his forehead but he doesn’t say a word. instead, he nods at the man, keeping his opinions to himself.

the pair of you resemble an old married couple, except you’re the grumpy old man with your wife cuddled into your side. your wife being steve that is.

‘oh.. is this uh, something that happens often?’ eddie asks, settling into the empty chair across from you. slightly miffed that steve was nestled into your side.

‘yup,’ you nod, smiling at him your chin resting on steve’s head. he hadn’t a reason to be jealous, you’d really rather poke your eyeballs out with a fork than do anything remotely sexual with steve.

‘right.. yeah okay,’ eddie says, looking perplexed but sitting back in the chair. if he was going to stick around then this would have to be something that he got used to. because you sure as hell weren’t going to stop being so close with steve for the guy that broke your heart at eighteen.

‘you want a drink?’ you ask, realising that you should probably be a good host even if it was only eddie.

‘yeah sure.’

you untangle yourself from steve and trundle off into the kitchen. steve takes this as the perfect opportunity to grill eddie on his intentions, sitting up straight and making sure that you were really gone before beginning his interrogation.

‘so.. you two?’

eddie shrugs, not wanting to get into it with steve after such a long day.

steve sighs, leaning toward eddie, ‘i’m gonna say this once.. but if you hurt her again, i will kill you,’ staring the other man down. contempt in his eyes. he was dead serious too.

‘i’m not- i’m not gonna hurt her,’ eddie sits up, praying that you’d hurry back with this damn drink.

‘i mean it eddie,’ raising his eyebrows, ‘you didn’t see how she was after you left.. i’m not going through that again, i’m not letting her go through that again.’

‘steve-,’ eddie blinks, stopping himself as you re-enter the room. hoping that you hadn’t heard their conversation, he’d only just got you to stop hating him. he wasn’t prepared to go back to that like, ever.

‘what’re you talking about?’ placing the bottle of beer in front of eddie and collapsing back into your spot on the couch.

‘football,’ steve answers quickly, groaning as he pushes himself off of the sofa, ‘i’m gonna head home, got work in the morning but i’ll see you tomorrow,’ he smiles, winking at you from above.

‘okay,’ you utter, sounding more like a question than a statement, watching carefully as he gathers his things without so much as a glance at eddie. you can only imagine what was actually said but that was truly none of your business.

you’d just grill eddie later to make sure steve hasn’t been too much of an asshole.

‘byee,’ you call out behind him, already eyeing a sheepish eddie. this’d probably be it. you’d known it was coming at some point, you just weren’t sure of when.

if steve’s sudden departure was anything to go off, you were probably right.

the door clicks shut and you turn your attention to eddie who was still sat on the solemn chair. oh god. maybe you had got a little used to having him around again and now to know that it’d all be coming to an abrupt end once again.. yeah you felt a tad shit.

‘what’d you say?’ you ask outright, it made zero sense to beat around the bush.

‘me?’ he looks almost offended, ‘i didn’t say shit.. didn’t get the chance to,’ but he’s smiling ever so slightly and your heart relaxes.

christ you were so stupid. letting him back into your life just to let him walk away a second time. perhaps you’d done something horrific in a past life to deserve this same fate twice.

‘so what did he say?’ you press, unsure of if your even wanted the answer.

eddie sighs before coming to collapse on the couch next to you, ‘it wasn’t important.. look, i wanna be honest with you,’ his hand comes to grab yours and you freeze, bracing yourself for what was inevitably going to come next. ‘you mean a lot to me and.. and i don’t want you to think that i don’t care or that i’m just leaving you again,’ his eyes are focussed on yours, full of what you hope is sincerity.

you don’t reply, instead you nod slightly and urge him to continue. this was it. the kicker.

‘i’ve gotta go back to la next week,’ his grip tightens around your hand, ‘but i’m coming back as soon as i can, okay?’ he’s serious too and you’d like to believe him but if the past was anything to go by, you weren’t eager.

you nod silently. fuck this. once again, you were sat before eddie munson, listening to his plans to jet off to la. it felt like the cruelest case of deja-vu. if anything, you want to kick yourself for even allowing him to wiggle his way back into your heart. most people know better after the first time.

‘it’s three weeks.. maybe a month, but i’m coming back, i promise,’ he pleads, hanging his head low. he knows there’s absolutely nothing he could say to you that would make you believe him but he had to try.

you hum, frowning just a little before finally replying, ‘i’ve heard that before,’ not meaning to sound as snarky as you did, but it was true.

‘i’m serious, i’m not.. not gonna lose you again, i’ve learnt my lesson,’ his eyes are big and pleading and you’re thrown right back to being eighteen, listening to him convince you how going to la would be the best decision.

‘so.. what? you’re gonna come back to hawkins just to see me? i don’t-,’ you sigh, as much as you wanted to believe him, it just wasn’t plausible in your mind, ‘i just don’t understand, are we together or are you just coming back to fuck? you don’t have to, you know? i’ve made peace with it all and i’m fine.. you don’t have to lie to me anymore.’

if anyone was going to fuck this up, it would be you. that’s for certain.

‘what the fuck?’ he exclaims, genuinely flabbergasted, ‘this is me telling you that i’m serious about this.. about you,’ he takes your hand into his properly, scooting around to face you fully, ‘i love being here with you, and ella and there is nothing out in la worth more than this,’ you think he might just start crying, or you might. or perhaps both of you.

you sniff, not wanting to speak in fear of bursting into hysterics. it was all just so confusing and weird. you’d grown accustomed to eddie being on the other side of the country and now suddenly he was back in your life with what seemed like a a declaration of love. it was just too much to handle. and maybe you blame yourself a little, for not truly thinking about the implications of fucking your ex that had abandoned you years prior. but now it all just seemed to be hurtling in the most intense direction.

you were the one that had told him to stay after all. because really, you could’ve kicked him out, refused to ever even acknowledge him again. but you hadn’t.

‘are you telling me the truth?’ is all that you manage to squeak out. baring resemblance to a small child.

you really must’ve looked pathetic, eyes brimming with tears, bottom lip quivering as you hold in the implosion of emotions. it’s always scary being vulnerable with someone, let alone someone that once meant so much to you.

he still did. as much as you’re absolutely petrified to admit it, he’d weaselled his way back into your heart and now here you are, a mess of emotions and perplexing feelings that are too complicated to handle.

‘i promise you,’ he sighs, clearly fed up of your whining, ‘i’m coming back this time.’

and maybe you’re stupid. maybe you’re still hung up on some high school relationship that ended long ago but you can’t help it, you nod.

idiotically believing him because what else can you do after letting him into your home and your heart again.

#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson x female reader

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dilemmaontwolegs · 5 months

Note

Hey love I absolutely love your fics 🥰 I was wondering if you could write a dark toxic romance for Lando or Charles or even Logan where she’s the girl next door??? I love you keep it up ❤️

Crazy For You || LN4

Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, implied smut, gaslighting, dub/con, dark themes WC: 4k Part one || part two || part three || part four

It had been two months since you moved into your apartment in Monaco and you still hadn’t managed to introduce yourself to your neighbour. He kept strange hours and seemed to be away more than he was there. From what you had glimpsed, you had been delighted to see he was probably around your age and quite handsome in an innocent way. Mr Riley on the other hand was a stoic old man who only spoke to you when your cat climbed over the balcony and into his space.

Known for its year-round beauty and calm climate, Monaco had welcomed you with a comfortable breeze and enough sun to warrant leaving the house without a jacket, even at dusk on a winter's night. If you had checked the weather reports you would have seen that a storm was quickly blowing in from the coast - arriving by the time you had finished having a few cocktails with your new friends.

Christmas lights twinkled around the shop fronts as you exited the bar and nutcrackers stood proud in doorways. You always loved Christmas and seeing the smiles it put on children’s faces but there were no children out this late.

“Are you sure you don’t want a ride?” Luke asked as he twirled his keys around his finger. “It’s about to start raining.”

“She’s good,” someone answered for you and you looked over to see your elusive neighbour at your side, his hand coming to rest in the small of your back. “I can take her home.”

“You didn’t tell us Lando was picking you up.”

Your mouth was dry and you didn’t know what to say as the liquor, or his presence, left you confused. Lando, you stored that piece of information away and tried to figure out why it sounded so familiar.

“I was just out doing some Christmas shopping and about to head home,” he said with a smile. “Ready?”

“Uh, yeah,” you mumbled as you let him guide you away from your friends.

“Are you sure?” Luke asked with a frown. “You don’t look comfortable. Do you even know him?”

“Kind of, I’m just surprised,” you assured him. “Lando is my neighbour.”

“Okay, well, text me when you get home.”

You gave Luke a nod and waved to the others before going your separate ways.

“Are you cold?” Lando asked, already slipping his arms out of the jacket he wore over a dark hoodie.

The alcohol had made you numb to the temperature but you let him drape it over your shoulders anyway, wrapping you in the decadent scent that came along with it.

“Thanks.”

“Any time, it’s what neighbours do.”

“I don’t think Mr Riley would,” you teased.

“The grumpy old guy in 4C? We just call him Carl, like the movie Up.”

You smiled awkwardly and toyed with the zip on the jacked. “I’ve never seen it.”

“What?” He pulled you to a stop and grabbed your shoulders with a serious look on his face. “This just won’t do. I cannot be seen with someone who hasn’t watched Up!”

“Oh,” you mumbled as you started to take off his jacket and hand it back.

“What are you doing, you muppet?” He grabbed the jacket and put it back on your shoulders before opening the door to a very expensive looking car.

“I thought you meant…”

“It’s fine, I have tinted windows,” he teased. “As soon as we get home though, we’re watching the movie.”

Lando followed you inside without an invitation but you could hardly turn him away with his boyish smile and mop of curly hair that sprung out of his hoodie when he pushed it back. “This makes sense,” he chuckled as he stuck his head in the bedroom, pointing to the wall that your bed was pushed against. “Our apartments are mirrored. I thought I woke up to a voice a few times. Do you watch Friends?”

Your head tilted at the odd question. “Why do you ask?”

“You sing ‘smelly cat’ a lot.”

Mortification hit you and you felt your face burn as you turned to the culprit walking through your house with a loud purr. “That’s Eddie. Do you have any pets?”

“No, I’m always travelling for work and I’m not very good at looking after myself let alone another living thing. Do you actually know how to use those things?”

You looked at the kitchen where he was pointing to the appliances. You had planned to make some Christmas cookies over the weekend and had the stand mixer ready on the benchtop. You thought he was joking but he was genuinely intrigued by the inquisitive look of wonder on his face. “Cooking relaxes me,” you said with a shrug. “You probably have plans already but if you want to come over and-”

“Absolutely, say no more, I’m in.” He crossed the living room and dropped into the middle cushion of the three seater sofa and patted the space beside him with one hand, the other reaching for the remote. “You do have Disney+, right?”

“You really do like to make yourself comfortable, don’t you,” you joked as you took a seat beside him.

“I’ve been told I can be a bit much,” he said with a small frown, placing the remote down. “Should I go?”

“No, no, I appreciate the company,” you said as you caught his arm to stop him from going. “Being alone in a new country is a little isolating, it’s nice having someone here.”

He settled back into the seat and sent you a grin as he searched for the movie. “Anytime you need someone to talk to, you can just knock three times.”

The weeks before Christmas were a madhouse. Work kept you busy as well as the many requests to go home for the holidays, but it just wasn’t going to be feasible to take leave so soon after starting. You knew your parents were going to be disappointed but you promised them you weren’t going to be alone for Christmas.

You had eventually found out why Lando’s name was so familiar when Luke explained who he was and why he was away so often. But since the race season was over he had plenty of time to spend at home, yours and his.

Just like every other evening, you knocked three times on the living room wall knowing Lando would be able to hear it despite the special Christmas Eve stream he was on. It was the last one of the year and he wished everyone a Merry Christmas before the live feed of him playing Counter Strike came to an end.

“Ouch, Eddie, fuck,” Lando swore a few minutes later as he knocked at your door. “Stop it.”

You opened the door to the frequent occurrence and took the hissing Eddie from his outstretched arms before he could get clawed again. Your ginger cat seemed to hate Lando for some reason, or maybe it was because he was always bringing the escapee back home to you.

“I think you should just move in with me,” Lando joked as he followed the mouthwatering scent into your kitchen. He came to your house for dinner most nights after finding Eddie on his balcony and usually stayed for a movie. That routine had changed slightly when the movie he chose one night was Friends With Benefits. There had been a moment after a sex scene when you both looked across at each other and the idea had passed between your eyes.

He cleared his throat and you realised you had been staring at him for too long. “Eddie likes my place better.”

It clicked, he wasn’t actually asking you to move in with him. But for a moment you had considered it.

“Right, Eddie,” you laughed at your idiocracy. “I really don’t know how he keeps getting out. I must be going crazy because I’m sure I locked the window this morning.”

You both looked at the window that opened onto the balcony, the skies dark with another storm. “Maybe your cat is a genius and learned how to open it?”

You rolled your eyes but managed a laugh at his attempt to make you feel better while you readied two plates and took them to the table where he sat. “Maybe I should change his name to Houdini.”

“Better than Ed the Ginger.” Lando grinned as he pulled you onto his lap and scooped up a dollop of creamy mash potato with his forefinger, holding it up to your mouth. You sealed your lips around his finger and swirled your tongue around the tip, watching the blue of his eyes be swallowed by his pupils. “Naughty girl, you’ll be getting coal this year.”

Your head fell back with a laugh.“Who are you? Santa Claus?”

“Well, you are sitting on my lap, aren’t you?” He winked and his tongue rolled across his bottom lip. “Wanna see my North Pole?”

“Oh my god, eat your dinner,” you giggled. “We still have to watch A Christmas Carol and Nightmare Before Christmas!”

You had both written a list of all the Christmas movies you wanted to watch and they were the last two left. It was just in time as midnight was going to come all too soon and you wanted to be tucked up warm in bed when the storm hit.

A loud crash had you jolting awake and you blindly reached across the bed in search of Lando to find it empty. Panic gripped you as you wondered if you were being broken into and a scream almost erupted when your light flipped on and Lando rushed in soaking wet.

“Holy shit, you’ll never believe what just happened!”

You stumbled into the living room where Lando threw an arm out to save you from stepping on the glass that covered the floor. The doors that opened out onto your balcony had been completely shattered during the storm and you shivered as the cold wind and rain blew straight into your home. A huge puddle was quickly spreading across the carpet and it was making its way to the Christmas tree in the far corner while you were still in shock.

“The presents!”

Lando twisted away from the pot plant that had been on your balcony wall, now it lay on the floor with the dirt turning to mud. Seeing the urge you had to cut across the glass, he shook his head and pointed to the kitchen where you would remain safe. “I’ll get them.”

Lando carefully navigated his way to the tree, turning off the power to the glittering lights, and bundled the gifts up before hopping his way back with a wince. The wrapping paper on some of the presents were splattered with rain drops but most seemed in perfect condition when he placed them on the kitchen bench.

“You’re bleeding,” you gasped as he balanced on one foot and you wrapped an arm around his waist to help him. “There’s a first aid kit in my bathroom. Can you make it there?”

He nodded and limped with your help away from the mess. “I think you should come and stay at my place until the doors can be fixed.”

“Are you sure?” you asked as you carefully used a pair of tweezers to pull out the small sliver of glass in his foot. “I can just get a hotel.”

“Ouch,” he groaned as it came free and blood welled at the site. “Not on Christmas Day, everywhere will be fully booked. I really don’t mind. It would save you from having to pack a bag.”

“If you’re sure…”

He smiled at the silly Spider-Man bandaid you placed over the wound before running the back of his knuckles across your cheekbone. “I am.”

You shivered at his cold touch and remembered how wet he was when you woke up. “What were you doing up anyway?”

He bit his lip and looked away sheepishly. “I was putting a present under the tree when a flower pot blew through the door.”

“Oh, wow, that wind must be insane. I hope all the boats are safe out there,” you mused, knowing some people lived on the mariner. “Wait, you got me another present? Lando, there’s already too many.”

“I wanted to spoil you,” he said with an unapologetic shrug. “You have single handedly kept me fed for weeks. You may have put a few restaurants out of business too.”

“You weren’t that bad were you?”

“You have no idea,” he chuckled. After testing his foot he took your hand and led you back to the presents to find a thin box that hadn’t been under the tree when you went to bed. “It’s after midnight, you know, you could open it.”

You took the box, surprised by the weight it had, and untied the pretty bow on top. The delicate silver writing drew a gasp and you looked at Lando with wide eyes. “Tiffany? I can’t open this, it’s too much.”

“Go on,” he urged as he placed your hand on top of the lid and gave it a squeeze. “Please, for me.”

Your fingers slipped twice as you tried to open the hinge and Lando’s hand enveloped yours, lifting it open to reveal the beautiful necklace within. The teardrop gemstone was the same shade as his eyes and it hung from a white gold chain that was polished to shine impossibly bright, even in the dim light.

“Lando, it’s beautiful,” you whispered in awe as he lifted it up and stepped behind you to drape it around your neck. The weight of the stone settled in the centre of your chest and you turned to face him with a sincere, “Thank you.”

“So..?” He bit his lip as he showed you the empty box, a question written in the silk lining. “Will you be my girlfriend?”

It wasn’t until the week after New Years that a glazier would be able to fix your doors. The holidays had left a backlog of people needing repairs but supply chains had been delayed too. Once the doors were finally fixed you realised the carpet was beyond repair and that took another week to have done.

It was strange to go back home after nearly three weeks of living in Lando’s apartment. It was too quiet.

“Babe, have you seen my hairbrush?” You had looked through the bathroom drawers he had cleared out for you to use but there was nothing left. You went back to your apartment and did another search but it wasn’t there either. It wasn’t the first thing you had lost going back and forth and you were beginning to worry.

“I’m sure it will turn up somewhere, love,” Lando said as he paused his game and turned to his friend in the simulator behind him. “Max probably used it.”

“Did not,” his friend replied with an indignant splutter. “Didn’t I see you singing into a hairbrush?”

“You’ve been experimenting with drugs again,” Lando snorted. With a resigned sigh, you decided your hair was decent enough to get away with at work and Lando tipped his head back so you could give him a kiss goodbye. “I’ll order dinner tonight. Chinese?”

“Sounds good,” you said as you gave Max a wave on the way to the door. “Try not to let him sit there all day, you know how his back gets.”

“Yes, yes, Lando has an old man’s back. I’ll make sure he moves his ass at some point,” Max joked. “Have fun at work.”

You screwed up your face at the sarcasm and their laughs followed you out of the apartment. You weren’t sure they had actually moved all day as they were still in the same spots when you got home. You had crossed paths with the delivery man in the lobby and your arms were laden with the takeaway Lando had ordered.

“How many spring rolls did you order?” you murmured as you kept unpacking more and more of the small styrofoam boxes with the treat.

“He’s going for a record,” Max said with a roll of his eyes. Ten minutes later Lando groaned, holding his stomach tightly. “I told you to stop.”

You had quickly showered and changed into some comfortable clothes and found most of the boxes empty when you joined them at the table. “How many has he had?”

“18, and he’s got no chance,” Max bet, reaching over to steal a spring roll for himself and swiping it through the sweet chilli sauce. “You’ll thank me later. Ah, fuck.” Max looked down at the red blotch on his white Quadrant shirt before sauntering off down the hall. “Mate, do you have any more stain remover? This one’s empty.”

“Yeah, under the sink there should be another bottle,” Lando yelled back, dropping his fork onto his plate in defeat. “I think I’m gonna be sick.”

“Why the hell do you have cat food?” Max appeared in the living room with the same brand of pet food you bought for your cat.

“That’s not mine, obviously.”

You looked at Lando, who was rubbing his full stomach and as reclined back as much as the chair would allow. “It’s not mine.”

“You brought it over during the storm, remember?”

“No I didn’t.” You hadn’t wanted to disrupt Eddie’s routine and fed him at home each morning before work.

“Yes, you did.” He laughed as he tapped your temple gently. “You have a terrible memory, love. You can’t even remember where you left your hairbrush.”

You didn’t have an argument for that, since you still hadn’t found it. You were sure you hadn’t brought any cat food over, but maybe he was right. You did seem to be a little confused lately.

“I think I need an early night,” you admitted as you cleaned up the dishes. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“You’re not staying?” Lando asked with a pout as he joined you at the sink, wrapping his arms around your waist and peppered your neck with soft kisses. “Who am I going to cuddle with?”

“I’m sure Max wouldn’t mind a snuggle,” you teased him as you turned in his arms. “I have an early start tomorrow but I can stay tomorrow night.”

He groaned at the thought of sleeping alone and held you tighter so he could have you in his arms a little longer. “Fine,” he huffed, relinquishing his hold on you and filling the kettle. “I’ll make you a chamomile tea so you sleep better.”

You smiled at his sweetness and savoured a few more minutes of kisses before the water boiled and he scooped out a few spoons of some boutique tea leaf mix he swore was the best sleep tea money could buy. Given how rich he was, you believed him.

Placing the hot mug in your hand, he bit his swollen lip and nodded to the front door. “Go before I tie you to my bed and never let you leave.”

“You wouldn’t,” you laughed, rolling your eyes as he winked. “Goodnight, baby.”

“Goodnight, love, sweet dreams.”

Something disturbed your sleep and you rubbed your eyes as you woke up well before your alarm. You reached for the lamp beside your bed and accidently knocked into the cup of tea you hadn’t finished before falling asleep, the cold liquid sloshing over the side before you caught it and froze.

Your bedroom door creaked open but it was too dark to see who it was. Your heart hammered in your chest as you tried to think of what to do before the shadow reached the edge of your bed. Your throat was so clogged with fear you couldn’t even scream, your hands trembled and closed them into fists before banging on the wall behind you, begging Lando would wake up at the sound.

Bang, bang, bang.

The figure lunged onto the bed, pinning you down with their weight and slamming your fists into the mattress. “Shh, love, it’s me.”

You relaxed as Lando’s voice soothed you, but the fear soon crept back up your spine with an icy shiver. “How did you get in here?”

“You forgot to lock your door,” he whispered as your wrists began to ache from the hold he had. “I was coming to check in on you.”

“No, I didn’t,” you said as you tried to shake him off. “I know I locked it. I know…I…I’m not crazy. Get off me, get off me right now.”

“You were meant to be asleep, love,” he groaned as his hands tightened to the point a pained cry escaped your gritted teeth.

“Why are you doing this?” you whimpered as he kissed your neck, but you couldn’t feel anything but repulsion.

“You should have just moved in with me, we are meant to be together.”

“You’re crazy,” you spat as you tried to buck your hips and throw him off but he was too strong. “Help! Somebody, help!”

His hand clamped over your mouth and you bit him as hard as you could before kicking and climbing away.

“I’m not the crazy one, that’s you, love,” he laughed. “You’re my girlfriend, you’re sick, but I’m going to take care of you, okay?”

“You are fucking insane!”

“No, no, sweetheart, I’m trying to help you, remember?”

You froze in the doorway as you saw a cutout of your key on the kitchen bench, along with your hairbrush, phone, a negligee and dressing gown. All things you had been convinced you had lost in the last few weeks.

“Why are you doing this?” you repeated as you backed away from your boyfriend. He was someone you had trusted, someone you thought had fit perfectly into your new life - but he had been messing with you this whole time. Max and the cat food came to mind. “Eddie…he used to go to Mr Riley’s house.”

“Couldn’t have that,” Lando tutted with a shake of his head as he took a step closer, “not when he was going to help me get close to you.”

“Don’t! Don’t come any closer to me!”

“Baby, don’t be like that, let’s just go back to bed. You’re under a lot of stress, let me make you a chamomile tea.”

You swiped your phone up as you bolted but he was quicker and blocked the front door, holding his hand out. “Give that to me, you don’t want to do that.”

“Oh, I’m pretty sure I do,” you hissed as you started to dial the emergency number.

“It’s you they will take away,” he said with a blase shrug that made you pause. “Everyone knows how unstable you have become.”

“Me?” you shrieked.

“You’re barely holding it together now. They aren’t going to believe anything you say.” He opened his arms as if to say, I’m famous and you are no one. Unfortunately, he was right. “Come on, love, let’s go back to bed.”

He took the phone from your limp hand and locked it before slipping it into his pocket. You were so confused that you had no idea what to do when he guided you back to the bed, turning the sheets down before tucking you in gently. “I love you,” he whispered as he kissed your forehead and handed you the cold mug. “Drink up, baby, this is all just a bad dream.”

Click here for the next morning.

#dark!lando #lando norris fanfic #lando norris imagine #lando norris x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #formula one imagine #formula 1 fanfic #formula one fanfiction #f1 rpf

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lovelyjj · 6 months

Text

Choices

jj maybank x kook!reader

request: Heyyyy I really love your works, I kindly request if you can please write a tumblr story of how JJ maybank likes both kook reader (Sarah’s cousin she introduced to the group and treasure hunt) and Kiara at the same time and he has to choose between the two and ends up choosing reader and Kiara moves on soon too

wc: 4.7k

a/n: I kinda changed the plot a little bit where Kiara and Sarah already worked out their differences. sorry this took forever!!

JJ watched her. He was captivated by her beauty. He watched as her long dark curls bounced as she walked. He admired her tan skin. He watched as she waited tables and rung up customers.

JJ was at the wreck while Kiara worked. He didn’t mind as he was mesmerized. Kiara didn’t seem to mind her visitor.

“Hey what are you doing here?” Kiara questioned.

“Just came to visit you,” JJ smiled.

“I’m working JJ.”

“I know I won’t bother you, promise.”

Kiara didn’t believe him when he said this however she still smiled and nodded back at him.

JJ stayed at the wreck for another hour before he decided to go home. When he got home he couldn’t stop thinking about Kiara. He thought about her smile and her laugh and her personality.

He loved hanging out with her even if it was to watch her work. JJ was confused as to how he can like someone so much.

——————

You never been to this so called Midsummers. Sarah has been raving about it to you for so long you grew tired of hearing about it. You and Sarah were currently getting ready for the party.

“Do you want me to do your eyeliner?” Sarah asked.

“Yes please,” you responded.

Sarah sat down in the seat in front of you and got busy.

“So are you excited for Midsummers?” you asked Sarah.

“Yeah I guess so, I’m just a little bummed because I don’t think John B will be there.”

“And John B is the guy your leaving Topper for?”

“Correct. Now hold still and close your eye.” Sarah demanded.

After a little while the both of you were ready for Midsummers. You were wearing a baby blue silk dress that matched Sarah’s white dress perfectly.

You arrived at the country club right on time and you were a bundle of nerves. You never been to Midsummers before and you were nervous because you didn’t know what it would be like.

Of course Sarah told you everything about it but still it didn’t ease your nerves. When you stepped out of the car you were met with a ton of people all dressed very nicely.

After Ward made his entrance and after a while of socializing you and Sarah made it to the dance floor.

Sarah was hiding behind her friend and sneaking some champagne.

You were on the dance floor living it up. When a mysterious blonde boy came up behind Sarah.

“JJ?” she questioned.

“yep” He spoke

“What?”

“I got a, uh, note from Vlad.” “Shh.”

“From Vlad?” Sarah confirmed.

“Yeah” JJ replied.

“Okay.”

“Read the note.” JJ said walking backwards.

Sarah read the note and ran off. You were confused by the whole interaction by brushed it off. You continued dancing.

After a while Sarah came back to find you.

“Hey listen we gotta go to Rixon’s Cove,” Sarah exclaimed.

“What why?” you asked.

“You’ll see,” she smirked.

Sarah grabbed your hand and led you away from the party and towards Rixon’s Cove. When you arrived you were met with a group of people.

They all turned towards you and you gave them all a smile.

“Hi guys, This is my cousin y/n,” Sarah announced.

“Hi, nice to meet you all,” you spoke.

“You can trust her,” Sarah put forth.

“Hi y/n, I’m John B.”

“I’ve herd a lot about you,” you giggled as Sarah’s cheeks warmed.

“Hi I’m Kiara,” she got up and shook your hand. You smiled at her.

“I’m Pope,” Pope said.

You turned your gaze to the only person who hasn’t introduced themselves.

JJ was frozen in place. He couldn’t believe his eyes. There you were in your shiny silky blue dress looking like a goddess. JJ didn’t believe in love at first sight until now.

“JJ,” Pope coughed.

“What oh right sorry, I’m JJ, JJ Maybank, pleasure to meet you.”

You thought JJ was cute and you wondered if he had a girlfriend, probably you thought.

“Now that we are all acquainted. I have some news,” John B announced.

“You ready for this?”

“Yeah,” Kiara responded.

“So, the gold never went down with the Royal Merchant,” John B continued.

“Oh, my god. Here we go again with this.” Pope voiced.

“No. All right, wait. Hear him out, all right?” JJ spoke.

“It’s been here the whole time. It’s on the island.” John B added.

“Are you serious?” Kiara questioned.

“Oh my god.” Kiara exclaimed.

“I’d like to voice my skepticism.” Pope said.

“I’m sure you would, Pope, but can I please present you with my evidence, sir?” John B asked.

“Proceed.” Pope responded.

“All right. So, in my backpack, I have a letter from Denmark Tanny.” John B went on.

“Who the hell’s that?” Kiara asked.

“Denmark Tanny was a slave that survived the Royal Merchant wreck. Check this out,” John B explained.

“What?” Kiara voiced.

John B handed her the letter. “Here you go.”

“Okay, slaves weren’t mentioned as crew members on the ship, but my dad, he found the complete manifest. That was his big discovery. So Tanny used the gold from the Merchant to buy his freedom.” John B discussed.

Kiara whistled and gave Pope the letter.

“After that, he bought his farm.” John B continued.

“Drumroll, please, because that farm is… Tannyhill Plantation.”

“Tannyhill?” Kiara questioned.

“Yeah. So, after that, he used his money to free even more slaves, and then he sold a shit-ton of rice, which pisses off all the white planters, and then they decide to lynch him.”

“So on the day they were coming to get him, he writes a letter to his son as a farewell, and in the last line of that letter, he leaves a coded message about where to find the gold.”

“Where?” Kiara whispered.

“Harvest the wheat in parcel nine, near the water. Except… there’s no wheat. You see, wheat is code for gold. Check this out. The gold is in parcel nine, near the water.” John B shared.

“Holy shit,” Pope exclaimed.

“All we need is an original survey map of the property, and we’ve found the gold.” John B cheered.

“Which I can get,” Sarah added.

“Okay, so this might have a small chance of being actually true.” Pope acknowledged.

“Dude it’s like King Tut,” Kiara suggested.

“I am a genius,” John B announced.

JJ got up and walked over to John B and embraced him.

“Hey, whoa! Hello! Fire! You’re near the fire. You’re gonna burn.” John B stated.

“I’m so proud of you right now.” JJ commented.

“Thank you. That’s really sweet of you,” John B expressed.

“Okay, so, guys. What’s the plan?” Pope asked.

“Good question,” John B stated.

“Well I can bring the map soon it should only take a second,” Sarah spoke.

“How much in gold are we talking?” you asked.

“400 million.” The pogues said together.

“Woah,” you stated shocked.

“Alright we can meet up later and get the map and go from there,” John B suggested.

After the meeting at Rixon’s Cove you all went home and thought about what was said. When you finally got home you couldn’t stop thinking about JJ. It’s like you were drawn to him.

There has been a few meetings about the gold and you were grateful to be apart of it and apart of the group. You felt like you finally found a group of friends.

Today you were going surfing to celebrate finding the gold. There was also gonna be a party at the boneyard but that was tomorrow.

Once you got to the beach you felt like you should mention you don’t know how to surf.

You voiced your concern about not knowing how to surf and JJ jumped up.

“I could teach you,” JJ exclaimed.

“Really? You’d do that for me?”

“Yeah of course.”

While the other pogues went to hit the water you and JJ stayed on the sand. JJ wanted to get to know you and he thought the perfect opportunity to do that was teaching you how to surf.

“Alright before we hit the water we must practice on the sand. First i’m gonna teach you about paddling.” JJ went on.

JJ proceeded to show you how to paddle. Then JJ showed you how to stand on the board and maintain your balance.

“We will get you in the water another day,” JJ started.

“Ok sounds good.”

You and JJ sat in the sand watching the others surf. JJ was so proud of you for learning so fast. Now was his chance to learn about you.

“So what do you like to do if you don’t surf?” JJ asked.

“Well I like to read and ride my bike.”

“Really? Ya know i have a dirt bike. I could take you on it sometime.” JJ hoped his invitation wasn’t too forward.

“Yeah that sound fun,” you exclaimed.

“Do you believe in soulmates?” JJ asked next.

You paused for an moment to think then you smiled and JJ just about died at the sight.

“I mean yeah, I think everyone has a person made for them and someone who completely understands you and loves you unconditionally is important to have.”

“I agree I believe there’s an intense connection where both people feel deeply drawn together as if the affair was somehow destined to be.”

JJ’s eyes were sparkling and you felt mesmerized.

“What’s your love language?” You asked.

“Hmm probably physical touch, which is funny,” JJ replied.

“Yeah mine too. Why is it funny?”

“I just didn’t expect it to be physical touch.”

“What's the best gift you've ever received, and why?” JJ asked.

“Umm probably concert tickets because it was Lana Del Rey and I love her a lot.”

“Really that’s so cool. Personally I love concerts.” JJ exclaimed.

“Yeah there the best,” you stated.

“What kind of music do you like?” JJ questioned.

“Um I listen to pop, indie pop, modern rock, indie folk and Hollywood.” you explained.

“That’s some good stuff right there,” JJ commented.

“Will I see you at the boneyard party tomorrow?” JJ asked.

“Yes you will,” you smiled.

After everyone was done surfing you all went to John Bs house. Everyone decided to just relax and watch movies.

—————

The boneyard parties are always fun. You had no idea because you’ve never been to one. Being a kook you never really branched out. Now you had a group of your friends that would be there.

You arrived with Sarah in a white sundress with yellow flowers on it. You were excited and nervous at the same time. The beach was buzzing with people. You were entranced by the energy of the people.

JJ was situated on a branch talking to Kiara.

“I haven’t seen you talk to any tourons lately,” Kiara stated.

“Yeah I’m growing tired of them. Their all the same,” JJ replied.

“JJ Maybank is passing up on sleeping with tourons, unheard of!” Kiara gasped in surprise.

Little did Kiara know that he liked her and didn’t see a point in filling his life with meaningless sex when all he really wanted was her.

Then JJ spotted you across the way and his whole face lit up. You looked hot. You were in a group of people with Sarah laughing at something someone said.

JJ wasn’t sure if he should approach you but he desperately wanted to hear your laugh.

You were mingling when you felt a tap on your shoulder. You turned around and were surprised to see JJ.

“You’re here!”

“I am,” you responded.

“Have you had something to drink,” JJ noticing your empty hands.

“No I haven’t.”

“Come on, let’s get you something to take the edge off.” JJ insisted.

JJ guided you to where the keg was. He poured you a drink and handed it to you. Then he proceeded to pour one for himself.

“You look nice,” JJ smiled.

You took a sip of your beer trying to hide your blush.

“Thank you,” you answered shyly.

“Do you want to go down to the water?” You asked JJ.

“Yeah sure,” JJ called.

The two of you made your way to the waves and you stuck your feet in the water. JJ was wearing boots so he just stepped near the water.

“Ya know I’ve always loved the water. I used to come down to the beach with Sarah. First we would watch for dolphins. Then we’d play in the waves til sunset. It was always so magical and fun we wouldn’t even care walking back wet.”

“That sounds perfect.” JJ commented.

“It was,” you smiled.

All of a sudden you got an idea. When the next wave came bringing in water that went up to your knees, you scooped up some water and flicked it towards JJ.

JJ scoffed but then he began to laugh and he said, “oh it’s on.”

JJ then proceeded to splash you and you splashed him back. This caused you to erupt in a fit of giggles.

JJ finally got to hear your laugh and it was music to his ears.

Soon the both of you were soaked and you were both smiling. Then horror struck you as you realized you were wearing white.

“Oh my god!” You shrieked and your hands flew up to cover your chest.

JJ tried to get the image out of his head he really tried but your dress stuck to you like glue and he could see the outline of your nipples pass your light blue bra.

He thought about what it be like to suck on them and he instantly felt ashamed.

You were panicking. But it could’ve been worse you could’ve not been wearing shorts underneath your dress. Thank god you did.

JJ quickly took off his shirt and gave it to you. “Here.”

You looked relieved and JJ smiled.

You took it from him and pulled the wet garment over your head. “Thanks.”

“Come on I know somewhere we can dry off,” JJ extended his hand out for you to take.

This gesture didn’t go unnoticed by you but you didn’t question it. You laced your fingers with JJ’s and made your way to the château.

“First I need another drink,” you stated.

“We’ve got beer at John B’s.” JJ whispered.

“Ok.”

Once you arrived at the château, JJ led you through the hall into his room. He took out a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt along with a towel to dry off.

“Thank you JJ.”

After you changed in the bathroom JJ was already ready dressed in sweats and no shirt.

“You look good in my clothes,” JJ smirked.

You blushed and hoped it wasn’t noticed by JJ.

“You really think so?” you questioned.

“Yep,” JJ remarked.

You opened your arms signaling you wanted to give JJ a hug. JJ was surprised but he would certainly not pass up a hug from you.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and JJ circled his arms around the small of your back. JJ smelled your coconut shampoo and he declared it his new favorite smell.

You pulled away way to soon for JJ’s liking but he obliged none the less.

“Now you wanted another drink right?” JJ asked.

“Yeah.”

He walked over to the kitchen pulled open the fridge and took out a can of beer. Then he handed it to you. He also took one for himself.

“So do you want to watch a movie?” JJ asked.

“Sure.”

With a movie on the TV and the two of you sharing a blanket you both sipped your beers and watched the film.

After the movie was over you guys stayed up til 3am talking about anything and everything. When Sarah walked into the château she was surprised to see you cuddled up with JJ on the pull out couch.

You were facing JJ and he was facing you. You were tucked under his chin and his arms were around you.

Sarah decided not to disturb the two of you but she will definitely bring it up later.

The next day you were over at Sarah’s house.

“So what the hell is going on with you and JJ?” Sarah asked.

“What do you mean, nothing is happening between us.” you replied confused.

“Well I saw the two of you cuddling at John Bs. It was kinda cute.”

“Oh that.” you flushed. “We just fell asleep really late and it sorta just happened unconsciously.”

“Yeah right,” Sarah laughed.

“I’m being serious nothing is happening,” you frowned.

“But you want something to happen,” Sarah smirked.

“What? No I don’t, What makes you think that?”

“Well I think you like him because you hang out a lot,” Sarah reasoned.

“So.”

“So, jump his bones already.”

“Sarah!”

“What, come on I think you guys would be good together.” Sarah threw up her hands and tossed them back down.

“Well it’s not happening,” you crossed your arms.

——————

You guys lost the gold. Everyone was pissed beyond belief. Loosing the gold to ward impacted everyone. Everyone seemed to be down in the dumps. A few months later the fuss seemed to have died down.

In those few months you and JJ got closer. Your relationship blossomed.

Everyone was out on the boat except you. You were busy and missed out on the boat day.

The pogues were gliding through the water, wind in their hair. Sarah was sitting next to JJ when she noticed JJ staring longingly at Kiara.

When they arrived back at the château, Sarah pulled JJ aside.

“Listen I see the way you look at her.” Sarah spoke.

“Look at who,” JJ questioned.

“Kiara. It’s the same way you look at y/n.” Sarah responded.

“What are you implying.”

“Look all I’m saying is you need to choose between them or I will tell them everything.” Sarah’s words cutting like knives.

JJ was conflicted. He didn’t know what to do. He for sure didn’t want Sarah to tell you and Kiara everything. He liked both of you and he didn’t know how he was going to choose.

——————

The pogues were all outside the château chilling and drinking when you walked up to the action.

JJ immediately turned around and saw you. He was at a loss for words, you looked stunning and he felt something in his chest.

“Hey guys,” you started.

“Hi y/n!” John B responded.

Sarah gave you a wave and Kiara gave you a smile. Pope handed you a drink which you gladly accepted.

You sat down next to JJ and his heart fluttered. JJ seemed to always feel some type of way around you. These past months his feelings really grew stronger. He couldn’t help the floaty feeling he felt just by being in your presence.

“We were just talking about the fight at the bonfire.” John B announced.

“Oh yeah that was wild. I can’t believe that happened,” you stated.

“Really I thought it was pretty predictable.” Kiara reasoned.

Everyone laughed and continued to tell stories. Everyone seemed to be having a good time. You however thought JJ was unusually quiet.

Truth is JJ was at war with himself. He didn’t take what Sarah said lightly. He knew she would tell them everything if he didn’t make up his mind.

JJ laid awake at night wondering what to do. He just hoped he would come up with a solution soon.

—————

JJ didn’t know what he did to piss off his dad so badly. It must of been something really bad because his dad was fuming.

“You are a worthless piece of shit!” Luke shouted.

JJ tried to run away but Luke tackled him to the ground. Luke got on top of him and started to choke him. JJ tried to choke Luke back.

JJ used his knee to knee Luke in the side. JJ got up but Luke used his hand to grab a hold of his foot and tripped him. Luke started kicking JJ in the stomach and then pulled him up by his hair. There he held him against the wall and punched the living daylights out of him.

JJ and Luke burst through the screen door and JJ came out on top. He started beating up his dad and finally he said, “I ain’t scared of you anymore.”

—————

JJ was embarrassed. He didn’t want to be seen by any of his friends. He was all bruised up and he was hurting all over.

He slowly but surely made his way to the château, wincing with every step he took. Then he saw you laying in the hammock and he was scared of what you might think.

“Jayj,” you called.

He walked over to you and when he reached your spot you gasped. He was littered in bruises and it reminded you of Midsummers where his face was all beat up.

“What happened?” you asked very concerned.

JJ was hesitant with opening up to you. Not that he didn’t trust you he was just scared to be vulnerable. He also didn’t want your pity.

“Um it’s my dad,” JJ smiled weakly.

“JJ.” your voice broke.

In a haste you reached out and pulled JJ in a bone crushing hug. JJ winced causing you to pull back and apologize for hurting him.

“That son of a bitch, i’ll kill him.” You expressed angrily.

“No y/n don’t worry about it. This is not your battle.”

“Yes it is JJ. When it comes to you I’m always gonna fight for you.” you reasoned.

“I don’t deserve it or you.” JJ muttered.

“No what you don’t deserve is getting beaten by your own father.” You said sadly.

“I told you not to worry about it.” JJ responded.

“Well news flash JJ, I care about you a lot, and seeing you hurt breaks my heart.” Your voice wavering.

“Don’t be sad baby, I can’t stand to see you so sad.”

You cracked a small smile, and looked into his crystal blue eyes. You took ahold of his hand running your thumb over his knuckles.

Looking in to your eyes JJ realized something. He realized that it’s always been you. He thought back to Midsummers when he saw you for the first time in your dress. How you looked stunning and he fell in love right then and there.

He thought about all the times the two of you were together. All the lingering touches, the long nights filled with deep talks, all the fun you had together. He thought about how you cared about him and his well-being. He didn’t care that you were a kook at all.

JJ thought about all the times you were there for him. The times when you fell asleep cuddling. How you made him feel. You made his heart race and his palms sweat. You made him feel alive.

It was a no brainer he was picking you.

“I hate seeing you all bruised up, makes me wanna cry.” You responded.

“I’m ok, promise.”

“Come here,” JJ continued and outstretched his hand for you to take.

You gladly accepted his hand and he led you into the château. JJ made his way to his designated room and closed the door.

As soon as the door shut JJ slid his arms around your waist and engulfed you in a hug. Your arms wrapped around his neck and you buried your face in his shoulder.

After your hug of just holding each other, JJ placed his hand on your cheek.

“Can I kiss you?” JJ asked.

“Yes.”

JJ didn’t hesitate, he quickly placed his lips on yours. The kiss was tender and JJ felt sparks, like little mini fireworks were going off in his body. Soon the kiss got heated. You were excited to be kissing JJ. Your lips were capturing each other in a fiery kiss.

Your stomach started to get tingly and JJ felt blood rush through his veins. JJ was still cupping your cheek. Your hands were tangling in JJ’s hair.

JJ moved his hands to go under your shirt and you let out a small moan. JJ warm hands sent shockwaves through your skin. You went to take off you shirt, lifting the garment over your head. JJ eyed you in your bra for a moment than went back to kissing you.

You were stunning and your tits were spilling over your bra and JJ was practically drooling.

“I want this off,” you tugged on JJ’s shirt.

JJ lifted his shirt over his head and you gasped. His stomach was littered in bruises and you wished you never saw it.

Tears filled your eyes as you clamped a hand over your mouth.

“Don’t cry angel, please don’t cry,” JJ begged.

“I’m sorry it’s just I can’t stand to see you hurt or in pain. It makes me so sad and then I get this rage because you deserve so much more than what you were given,” you shared.

“I’m ok, I have you,” JJ smiled.

“JJ…”

“What? It’s fine,” JJ muttered.

“Get on the bed please,” you ordered.

JJ did what he was told and got on the bed. You moved to get on top of him. You were straddling his legs when you decided to kiss each one of his bruises on his stomach and ribs.

JJ let out a shaky breath as you kissed him. When you were done you looked up into his eyes and gave him a smile.

JJ flipped you over so that he was on top of you now.

“Let me make love to you please baby,” JJ requested.

“Ok J.”

So, JJ made you feel amazing and you had the best sex you ever had.

—————

You were on a mission. You were very upset and you needed to find JJ and sort this out. You marched up the steps of the château and found JJ on the couch.

“We need to talk, now.” You demanded.

“Ok let’s go to my room,” JJ replied.

Once you were in the privacy of JJ’s room you let it rip.

“I can’t believe you. How could I be so stupid,” you started.

“What are you talking about?” JJ asked.

“I’m talking about you liking me and Kiara at the same time!” you shouted.

“Oh that,” JJ cringed.

“Yeah that,” you raised your eyebrows at him.

“But I chose you!” JJ exclaimed.

Tears formed in your eyes but you refused to let them fall.

“That doesn’t change the fact you liked her while we were hanging out together.”

“I mean I was falling in love with you and you were thinking about some other girl,” you continued.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry but I want to be with you,” JJ apologized.

“i’ll never forgive you if you break my heart.”

“I won’t.”

“If we’re together and you suddenly decide you want to be with Kiara, I don’t know if I can handle that,” you reasoned.

“I promise I won’t leave you. You’re just gonna have to trust me”

“Jayj.”

“I’m serious y/n, I’m committed to you and I love you,” JJ choked out.

“I love you too,” you smiled weakly.

So, you decided to trust JJ and it was the best decision you ever made. He treated you right he loved you unconditionally and he made you happy.

Your heart did break when you found out from Sarah that JJ liked you and Kiara at the same time but he did choose you in the end. So you forgave him and never looked back.

————

Kiara has been waiting for JJ to make a move for a while now. She thought he would’ve asked her out by now.

When she found out from Sarah that you and JJ were together she was shocked. But she didn’t let that get her down. She dusted herself off and decided she should start dating.

Her and Pope have grown rather close and she wondered if Pope would ever go for her. She wanted to try her luck because nothing with JJ will ever happen.

She knew JJ liked her all this time and she waited for him but he never acted on his feelings. So Kiara decided to move on.

You and JJ loved each other a lot and throughout your relationship you both discovered new sides to yourself. A little while after you and JJ got together, Pope and Kiara got together. Everyone was happy.

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dcxdpdabbles · 6 months

Note

Ghost king danny goes on a reincarnation vacation to the dc universe by ClockWork, he ends up as a mortician/coroner and chats up the dead and is super creepy and has to go to Arkham to claim a body there (idk how-) and ends up freaking out the prisoners but also makes some friends and is just all around having a good time and Batman is concerned why this guy just feels weird and why Jason likes him enough to call him a friend

"This is Daniel Fenton." Bruce starts clicking the button on his wrist computer so an image of a young man in his early twenties appears on the hologram. "He is the mortician working at Gotham Funeral Home and Crematorium. Recently, he has been the talk of the underworld for his actions in Arkham."

"Actions?" Tim asks, reading over the files that Bruce had downloaded into their own wrist computers. He pauses at the old-school photo of Daniel Fenton smiling shyly at the camera. Two rows below him is Jason's equally bashful smile when he was fourteen.

Huh.

"A patient was found dead in her room. Daniel went over to claim the body, but while there, he made a few of the inmates uncomfortable." Bruce pulls up a security camera footage of Fenton strolling down the hall, pushing the cart with the body covered by a white sheet.

The way his lips are shaped tells the Bats he whistles even if there is no sound.

It looks normal- even if he seems just a tad too cheerful for picking up a dead person- until he passes by Two-Face's room. The man flipped his quarter and then started shouting at Fenton.

They couldn't make out his words, but whatever the mortician said had Two-face laughing so hard he fell to the ground.

Then, the camera glitched as if there were some kind of interference. They watched it clear up with Fenton walking away and Two-Face sitting on the ground, staring at a wall with a blank expression.

"What happened?" Dick asks.

"It's unclear what Fenton did to him, but Harvey has been unresponsive since. This was three days ago."

"Shit," Steph swears, which pretty much sums up everyone's thoughts.

"Yeah, Danny has that effect on people," Jason speaks up, shrugging his shoulder at the looks he receives. "What? Danny has always been weird, but I doubt he is dangerous."

"You are acquainted with Fenton?" Damian asks, and Jason shrugs again.

"We were in the same graduating class. I spoke to him more after I died and came back, but I wouldn't meet up with him for a drink or anything."

"You don't drink."

"Exactly, Timbos."

Bruce clears his throat. "In any case, I want you all to keep an eye on him."

"B, seriously, the guy is harmless. He cried the other day over a book character's death-"

"How would you know that?" Cass cuts Jason off, a teasing smile on her face even though her eyes are narrowed with suspicion.

"We're in the same book club. Not another word." Jason grunts.

Dick, who has been staring at the class photo that Tim has seen, snaps his figures. "I know him! He's the weird kid who told people he was the reincarnation of the Ghost King on vacation! Claimed he was a powerful afterlife entity. Didn't you get caught with him behind the bleachers, Jason-"

"Shut it Dickface!" Jason screeches face a bright red suddenly. " That was one time, and I was fourteen!"

Bruce's frown is suddenly more profound. "I had forgotten about that particular detention. Jason, are you compromised for this mission?"

"What!? I am not!" The second oldest yelled, balling his hands "In fact, I bet I could get Danny to tell me what he did!"

"Good. Go get that done." Dick waves his hand at him in a dismissive motion. "Don't come back without the little crazy mortician's number."

Tim smiles as Jason explodes, but his eyes never leave Heavy Dent's image on the security camera. There is something about the way his eyes are hazy that set bells off in his head.

He is sure he sees flashes of green on Dent's pupils. He saw similar flashes in a file inside the League of Assassins while searching for Bruce.

It was the warning of ghosts.

Was Fenton's teenage lies not so fatuous after all? He'll have to investigate.

Master Post Link

#dcxdpdabbles #dc x dp crossover #The Ghost King's Fibs #Basically Danny is on vacy as a reincarnation #and told EVERYONE about it but no one believed him #Jason did in fact get caught kissing Danny behind the blechers #Dead on Main #Tim's sharp mind seeing the dots that others need to connect #Is Danny dangerous?#Who knows?

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normansnt · 3 months

Text

Almost got you, bitch

(Hazbin Adam x fallen angel!Male reader)

No warnings I think perhaps cursing

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You were a fallen angel.

You questioned heavens doings after finding out about the extermination, and of course heaven didn't like that.

When you fell, your best friend, Adam, was the most pissed off. Granted he was the one who told you about it one night when he was drunk and you had to get him home but he didn't know you were gonna make such a fuss about it.

You were in heaven, everything was fine you had your friends there, no one important to you fell before you, and most importantly you had him there, your best friend. Why would you care about those misfits in hell??

All though he shouldn't have been surprised, even though you put on a hard shell and make very similar jokes than himself you are a kind soul, a very kind one at that always helping others. But still, you fell, you are not here with him anymore. That sucked.

*flashback*

Heaven was a pretty new invention and adam and eve were trying to settle, for that god sent an angel, you.

When you knocked on the door adam went to open it.

"Who the fuck is here this early?" Was the first sentence he ever spoke to you.

Now you aint gonna take shit from nobody.

"Im the fuck who is here get you asses moving cuz we're going to heaven" you said with an equally annoyed tone.

Thats when Adam knew he liked you. And with the same amount of sass to each other the two of you became fast friends.

"I Almost got you, bitch" yelled Adam. You guys were playing flying tag cuz he just got his wings and they were completely new to him.

"You wish, fucker" you answer with a shit eating smirk. You were the one to teach him how to fight, the one who helped him through his divorce withe eve, you were his best friend.

*end flashback*

"...Shit" adam called seraphim, an idea occurred to him, how about they move up the next extermination, that way he has a reason to get down there sooner and bring you back, also slather some demons.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When you woke up in hell, the first thing you saw was someone trying to cut out your organs.

"WAAHH...MOTHERFUC-- WHAT THE HECK R U DOING??" You jumped up and started yelling at the demon.

"Calm down pretty boy, the cannibals pay good money for fresh organs like yours."

"Well guess what jackass I dont give tiny rats ass how good those fuckers pay you my organs aint for sale" and with that sentence you quickly kicked him in the nuts and when he fell to the ground brocke his neck. Yeah...you were kind but god help people who mess with you...literally.

"Well shit, never had to fight without wings."

"...Interesting, and here I thought I would have to come to your rescue in exchange for your soul." Came a...static voice from behind you.

"Uhhh...thank you?? I guess, but there will be no taking my soul." You looked at the grinning man in a red suit.

"Such a shame, you'd be my first fallen angel"

"...Ok, listen can I help you with something ooooorr??"

"Not particularly I just wanted your soul, but alas that ship has sailed, however since you just fell I assume you have no where to stay" his grin stretched a bit as he said that.

"Well, you assume correctly but Im not gonna agree to any deal you have to offer just for a place to stay"

"Well, well, you are smart one even though angles can be so gullible, but no there is no deal the only thing you'd have to do is perhaps act nice"

"I can do that." you answered finally smiling at the strange man.

"They are coming" you whispered to yourself. After you arrived in hell, Alastor offered you a place in the hazbin hotel and you were happy to take it. This was over 7 months ago, in that time you grew close to everyone who was there, they were your found family and now you will protect them even if its against you first family.

Today was the day of the extermination, the day you'd have to fight heaven, the day you's have yo fight Adam. Even though you never admitted to yourself you had deeper feelings for him than friendship, but since he literally went around fucking bitches that kind of lowered your hopes.

The fight was raging on. Since you were the one who literally trained these exorcists they were no match for you. However Alastor was supposed to take on Adam, and that worried you. You knew how powerful Alastor is supposed to be but you have seen Adam's powers first hand.

Just as you suspected Alastor couldn't take on Adam. So Charlie had to take over which made you even more worried. You climbed up and saw Adam hitting Charlie into the hazbin hotel sign.

"NO" you yelled

Adam turned towards you with a smile that said he was ready to kill, that disappeared however when he saw that it was you.

"(Y/N)...."

He looked at you for a moment when someone punched him out of no where.

"Oh shit" you said while looking at Adam flying away and than back at who punched him. Lucifer.

"Lucy?" U asked baffled. You met him when he was still in heaven. Personally you loved his creative ideas while the making of earth so you guys would talk a lot. You also found it highly unfair when he fell and considered going after him, but Adam held you back.

"...Who--? SHIT (Y/N)? Omg why tf are you down here??" He asked half pissed half happy to see you.

"Well a little this, a little that, you know, also I fucking fell so." You replied while hugging him.

"How many of you fuckers do I have to beat before I can take (Y/N) home with me" said Adam very pissed after crawling out from the window he was punched into.

"What?" You asked

"I'm the only one that matters, you messed with my daughter and now Im gonna fuck you" said Lucifer proudly smirking. Everyone went silent while you were trying to hold back your laughter.

"Khmm...its fuck you up, dad" corrected Charlie

"Wait what did I say?" Asked Lucifer confused.

After this a kind of...fight started between Lucifer and Adam. Well, only adam was fighting Lucifer was mostly changing forms.

It was quite funny to watch.

At the end Lucifer won over Adam and he wanted to kill him, but your body moved on its own and you threw yourself at Adam.

Charlie also told his dad to stop.

You stood up from Adams body.

"Take your angel army, and go home" you told him in a soft tone.

He painfully stood up and looked at you with sadness...and something you couldn't quite place.

"(Y/N)..." come with me, please. Is what he wanted to say, but he knew you are still mad at him and that your answer will be no. Or he just didn't want to seem vulnerable in-front of demons.

"I Almost got you, bitch"

Your lips twitched upwards a little bit.

"You wish, fucker"

And with that the angel army and adam flew up to heaven.

When adam arrived in heaven, something downed on him.

"Fuuuuuuckkk..IM GAY-"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Is he an (at best) mid white man who thinks he is the shit?

Yes.

Is he a fucking loser though and a lil bitch

Also yes.

BUT YK WHAT.

HE IS FUNNY AF I LOVE HIM AND HIS SONGS R FUCKING AWSOME.

HOPE MY FELLOW ADAM ENJOYERS LIKED IT THOUGH😎

I hope you enjoyed your reading ladies gentleman and others, good afternoon good evening and good night🦖🧡

#male reader #hazbin x reader #hazbin x you #hazbin hotel x male reader #male y/n #hazbin adam #adam x reader #gay fanfiction

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roosterforme · 2 months

Text

The Younger Kind Part 53 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley is surprised by what Maverick has to tell him, and he's not sure how to convey his mixed feelings to you. The urge to keep everything inside is strong, but you catch on right away and shut it down. In the end, he's not sure he has made the right decision.

Warnings: Swearing, angst, fluff, pregnancy topics, and age gap (18+)

Length: 4500 words

Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader

Check out my masterlist for more! The Younger Kind masterlist.

There was something a bit ominous about the way Maverick said, "Rooster. We need to talk."

Bradley followed him toward the tower immediately, getting more annoyed by the second. This was supposed to be an exciting day. You and Bradley had started telling people you were engaged. It was a shame that Casey was among the first to find out, but Bradley had expected Maverick of all people to remember his plans for the weekend.

But Bradley didn't say a word until they were inside the tower in private. "She said yes, by the way," he told his godfather blandly. "I proposed after the air show."

Maverick grinned and pulled him in for a tight hug that Bradley barely returned. "That's wonderful. I was just about to ask, but I knew she would say yes." He slapped him on the back before releasing him. "So it's safe to tell Penny now?"

Bradley rolled his eyes and couldn't help but smile. "Yeah. It's safe. She can't ruin anything at this point."

Then Maverick's smile started to fade, and Bradley remembered exactly why he had followed him here to begin with. "We really do need to talk, Bradley, and I'm not sure you're going to want to hear this right now."

Bradley braced his hand on the wall next to him and asked, "Are you deploying me?"

"Not exactly," he replied as if he was trying to choose his words very carefully.

But Bradley was so used to being spoiled right now, he didn't have the patience for this. He had you and Noah and now a baby and a wedding, too. "Just spit it out, Mav. Please."

He glanced around and cleared his throat, and Bradley's nerves just got worse when he finally spoke. "Your name came up behind closed doors. The admirals have you listed as a top selection for a training mission."

"What kind of training?" Bradley asked, wishing he would just get on with it.

Maverick's voice dropped lower as he said, "Sixth-generation fighters. Nothing that's available in the U.S. You'd be one of the first to fly them for tactical testing."

"You're joking," Bradley rasped, his body frozen as Maverick shook his head.

"It's no joke. It's also optional. Not your traditional deployment. Nobody is going to force you to go this time. I can't supply you with many more details unless you give your verbal and written agreement to participate, but I can say that this would go a long way toward career advancement."

"Shit."

You were pregnant. This was not the best time to leave for optional training. But six-generation technology was something he might never get to experience during his career unless he partook in this. It would be years, maybe even a decade, before Naval aviators were flying these jets off of carriers for real missions. He knew exactly what this meant. He could be among the very first to take them up in the air, and his flight details could help shape the way these jets were eventually distributed to the United States and used by the military. "Jesus, Mav."

He nodded in response. "I know the timing isn't ideal for you and your family, but it's something you should seriously consider. Go home and talk to your fiancée about it, and if you decide you want to be included in the meeting on Thursday, let me know."

"Right," Bradley muttered. "Am I dismissed?"

"Yeah. Head home. I'll see you tomorrow."

Bradley should have gone directly home and waited for you and Noah to arrive, but instead he took his time in the locker room. He tried to imagine what it would be like to leave you for a few weeks or months while you were pregnant, but it made him feel too uncomfortable. He could turn the opportunity down without even mentioning it to you. That actually sounded like a pretty good plan.

While he showered and got changed, he felt guilty in a different way. He didn't want to hide this from you even though all he wanted to do was protect you. And part of him really wanted to fly these prototype jets. If he did, he could leave a lasting impression on the future of Naval aviation even after he was done spending time in the cockpit.

"Fuck," he muttered as he packed all of his things up for the day and headed outside to his Bronco. It was actually pretty late now, and there was no doubt you were at home with Noah, probably making dinner. But Bradley took a detour to the coffee shop first, and then he stood there like an idiot for a few seconds, because he wasn't sure if you were still supposed to have caffeine or not.

He ended up ordering the decaf version of your favorite drink. Then he asked the barista to borrow a sharpie, and he wrote something new on the cup this time. He stuffed a few dollars into the tip jar and headed home, still completely undecided about what he wanted to do.

---------------------------

Noah was his usual adorable self, and you wanted to be having a good day, but you were exhausted from work and Casey. Dinner was in the oven, and you were taking the time to carefully cut apples into peanut butter snails for Noah to have as his dessert, but Bradley wasn't even home yet.

You were looking forward to getting changed out of your wrinkled scrubs and taking a long shower, which would be much easier to do if he were here. Everything was easier with him around. You started planning a trip to Disneyland on your phone while dinner cooked, but you wanted to run it past him before you booked anything. You smiled softly, knowing Bradley would tell you to put it on your princess card before thanking you for planning the next family vacation. But you had your first doctor's appointment coming up and thought it was better to go to Disneyland after that. But October was looking promising.

When you heard the front door open, and Skittles scampered into the living room, you felt your body sag against the counter in relief. "Daddy's home," you told Noah, and he pushed his new dinosaur coloring book aside and followed after Skittles. You brought up the rear, but that just meant that you'd get the longest hug from Bradley when it was your turn.

"Come here, Mrs. Bradshaw," he rasped after he set Noah and Skittles down, and you were tucked in his embrace with your nose buried against him immediately. It was obvious that he was tired and hungry, but he didn't rush anything. He just held you like his life depended on it. Soft kisses teased along your forehead and temple as he whispered, "I brought you some coffee."

Then you noticed the cup he had set down on the TV stand, and you rubbed your cheek against his chest as you read it. "That's adorable, Daddy." He had scrawled Princess +1 on the cup this time, and it made your face feel warm. "But I think I need to cut back on my caffeine consumption."

"It's decaf, Princess" he whispered, his lips and mustache brushing the shell of your ear.

The soft moan that left your lips had him chuckling as you said, "The baby and I thank you." Then you ditched his arms in favor of the coffee cup. When the kitchen timer went off, you kept your eyes on Bradley as you walked backwards away from him. "After Noah goes to bed, I want to talk about something important. It rhymes with Tisneyland. I thought we could go next month. After I talk to my doctor, of course."

He winced for a split second, but it would have been impossible to miss. Okay. You thought he made it clear he wanted to go on another family trip. Maybe he changed his mind. "Shit," he whispered, swallowing hard. "We can... we can go. No problem. Whenever you want."

The timer was still buzzing, otherwise you would have pressed the issue. Without another word you turned toward the kitchen and grabbed the oven mitts so you could get dinner on the table. But Bradley was acting strange. He even seemed more subdued with Noah which had you worried.

"What happened at work?" you asked, sliding a plate of dinner in front of him.

He shrugged. "Just a regular day. But I did tell Nat we're engaged." At least he smiled when he said that, and then he reached for you, looking up at you as you stood next to him. "Hey, I can't wait to go to Tisneyland with you."

You couldn't help but laugh, but you said, "We don't have to go in October. We can go next year or never. I just thought it was something you wanted to do."

"Book it," he said, squeezing your hip before dropping his hand. "I'll request a day off as soon as you book it after your appointment. We can take a long weekend."

Something was wrong, and you couldn't place it. But his eyes were clouded with doubt and your stomach soured so much, you could barely eat your own dinner. This didn't feel like the sweet man who agreed to go to daycare drop off with you this morning simply because you didn't want to go alone. When you offered to get Noah ready for bed, he agreed without really paying any attention to your words.

"Come here, Sweet Noah," you whispered after Bradley kissed him goodnight, clearly distracted. You got him into his pajamas and got his teeth brushed, and like usual, he was yawning before his head even hit the pillow. You started to read him the book about farm animals that you picked out a few months ago with Bradley, and even though he was sound asleep by page two, you finished reading it just to have a few extra minutes with him.

Eventually you found Bradley sitting on the couch with Skittles on his lap. When you leaned against the doorway, he held his hand out to coax you forward. "You didn't tell me about your day," he said softly.

"I tried to during dinner, but it's like you weren't even there," you bit back, not moving an inch. "What's wrong? You change your mind about getting married?" you asked, holding up your left hand and spinning the ring loose with your fingers. "Or about the baby?"

Now he was up off the couch in an instant, Skittles looking rather alarmed by his sudden movement. "Hey," Bradley snarled, pulling you against him with his left hand and using his right fingers to push your ring back into place. "Don't say that. It's never going to happen."

"Then what's wrong?" you asked, giving him no room to continue to be vague and weird with you. "Just tell me."

"You gonna keep that ring on?" he asked, and you saw a flash of everything you loved so much about him in his eyes.

You pressed up onto your toes and kissed him. "Yes," you whispered before kissing him again and again. "I'll keep it on. Just tell me what's wrong."

He pulled you toward the couch, and after he sat, you straddled his lap while Skittles curled up on the cushion next to you. "Nothing's wrong," he whispered, his big hands sliding down your hips to your thighs, stroking you through the thin fabric of your pants. He was staring at your name where it was embroidered on your scrub shirt instead of meeting your eyes. "Earlier today, Maverick told me about something... interesting."

"Go on," you whispered, raking your fingers through his soft hair. "I already know something's bothering you, so just say it, Daddy."

He nodded slightly and kissed your forearm before he finally met your gaze. "It sounds like there's a brand new fleet of aircrafts with technology updates that have never been flown by American pilots before. I'm on a short list of aviators who have been invited to train on these jets overseas, most likely in the hopes that the Navy will adopt these planes in the future."

You nibbled on your lip and considered his words. "So, it's kind of like a deployment?" you asked, still dragging your fingers through his hair as you scooted a little closer.

"Sort of," he said softly. "But it's optional. And I'm going to tell Mav I don't want to go. I'll be here, okay? We can go to Disneyland next month."

You studied his handsome face, and while he looked more relaxed now that he told you what Maverick said, you knew that wasn't the end of it. You pieced it together in your mind and leaned the rest of the way to his lips. He accepted your kiss as he rubbed his hands slowly along your thighs. You hummed and let your forehead rest against his.

Your voice was calm as you asked, "But you do want to go, don't you?"

He remained quiet, but he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you so your body was flush against his and your cheek was resting on his shoulder. You relaxed against the steady rise and fall of his chest and the soothing beating of his heart.

When he finally spoke, his voice was gravelly and deep, and it made you shiver. "The last thing I want is to be away from you and Noah and the baby. I don't want you under the impression that those thoughts are on my mind, okay? That's not what this is."

"I believe you, Bradley," you whispered against his neck. "But this sounds like a big deal. You made the list? Over so many other people? They chose you to try something brand new?"

His voice was a little more forceful as he said, "I do not want to leave you alone right now. It wouldn't be fair."

You kissed your way up his neck until your lips found his earlobe, and you kissed him there, too. You inhaled the smell of his shampoo as you said, "I love you, and I want to support you as much as you support me. If you want to do this, then I think you should."

There was no denying that you felt safer and more loved when you were with Bradley than you ever had before. But this was his career, and it sounded like he had a chance to be part of something huge.

"You're right, Baby. I do want to go."

You nodded as he held you. "Do you have any other details?"

"No. There's a meeting on Thursday that I can sit in on if I let Mav know I'm interested, but I doubt I'll get a ton of information short of a departure date and maybe a location unless I sign on for this thing."

You kissed his cheek and pulled away so you could look at his face. "Next time, just tell me what's on your mind instead of trying to make an important decision without me."

"I'm sorry," he whispered, reaching for your left hand and kissing your palm and the spot where the band of your engagement ring wrapped around your finger. "But next time, don't even pretend like you're taking this thing off."

"I won't."

--------------------------

Somehow Bradley made it all the way to the meeting on Thursday, his curiosity piqued. When he found out where the meeting was being held, he was even more surprised.

"Come to Admiral Simpson's office promptly at one o'clock," Maverick told him, and Bradley silently thanked you for clearing things up with Cyclone the way you had. There was no way his name would have made it onto any list if you didn't send the man a glass of bourbon at Warlock's retirement party.

"I'll be there," he promised. And if he was surprised by the location, he was even more surprised when he showed up to find Cyclone and Maverick waiting for him and him alone.

"Sir?" Bradley asked, standing until he was given permission to sit. He knew better than to ask a single question about the training before he had some information to work with, but his brain was swirling nonstop. You and he stayed up last night making a list of things he needed to know before making a decision. For example, Bradley desperately wanted to fly these sixth-gen fighters, but he wasn't willing to be gone for months on end. Hell, you still hadn't seen your doctor yet. That appointment wasn't happening until Monday.

"Lieutenant Bradshaw," Cyclone said, pushing a folder toward Bradley as he sat down behind his desk. "We chose you for this training protocol. Only you. If you are unwilling, then we will regroup and try to select someone else. However, time is tight and details are going to be scarce unless you agree to participate. Do you understand?"

"I understand, Sir," he replied, and then Cyclone tapped his fingers on the folder before releasing it to Bradley.

Maverick was standing near the window, and Bradley got the feeling that his godfather was proud of him. He still wasn't sure why he was the only one here, but as he opened the folder and skimmed the pages, many of his immediate questions were answered.

As soon as he saw it, he shook his head. "You want me to fly to Japan on Monday morning? Because if that's a hard set date, then my immediate answer is no."

He closed the folder and started to hand it back to Cyclone who was sharing a look with Maverick. "And if we could push it to Tuesday?" he asked without taking the folder.

"I'm listening," Bradley replied, honestly wondering what he had that the other pilots didn't.

Maverick stepped away from the window. "Bradl- Lieutenant Bradshaw," he corrected right away. Bradley realized it was hard for both of them to separate their professional relationship from the personal one they shared, especially when they did things like take family vacations together. "This is a once in a lifetime opportunity. You were chosen for your skill set and the way you prioritize communication. We don't want to have to select someone else, especially when we believe you'd be the best pilot available."

Cyclone cleared his throat and added, "Consider Tuesday morning your new departure time. Do you have an answer?"

Bradley blinked at him a few times, glanced down at the information in the folder, and then looked up again. "You need me to give you an answer right now? Sir?"

He nodded once and folded his hands. "Before you leave my office."

---------------------------

You were too tired to do anything after work except pick Noah up from preschool. Seriously, if Casey even tried to talk to you, it was going to be her funeral. But for once, luck was on your side, because she wasn't even there. You signed Noah out without incident and headed home to talk about this special training mission.

Bradley must have learned his lesson from earlier this week. You couldn't believe he was about to make a decision without you like that, just to try to save you the stress. You could handle it. After your appointment on Monday, you could handle anything that came your way.

When he got home shortly after you did, he told you immediately that he needed to talk to you. He kissed Noah on the top of his head and pulled you to the kitchen doorway, a frantic look on his face as he stroked your cheek with his fingers. "I'm going."

Your heart plummeted. He really did decide without talking to you about the details. You wanted him to go, but you also wanted to talk about the pros and cons with him first. But in the end, you really had no say here at all. "You are? I thought we were going to talk it through."

"We were," he whispered. "That was my intention, Princess. But they made me decide before I could leave Cyclone's office."

You made a concerned face. "Cyclone's office? How did everyone fit in there?"

Bradley shook his head, his cheeks a little ruddy from frustration or embarrassment, you weren't sure which. "They didn't, Princess. It was just me. I was the whole list of people."

"Oh," you gasped. It was hard for you to understand at times that he was at the top of his career, because he was just as devoted to his life at home. With you and Noah. "Where are you going? And when do you leave?"

"Japan," he rasped, his face full of guilt now. "And I leave on Tuesday morning."

The pounding of your heart was making you feel nauseous. "Tuesday?"

He nodded. "They originally wanted me to leave on Monday, and if that was the case, I was ready to turn it down, no further questions asked."

"You were?"

His eyes went wide. "I'm not missing the first appointment for something optional."

You nodded slowly, because that brought up your next question. You sensed he might be missing subsequent appointments. "When will you be back?"

He wrapped his hands around your hips and pulled you closer to him. "I have no idea."

Then you started to cry, and you felt like such an idiot. You wanted him to go. You wanted him to have this experience and impact new pilots in the future, but you also thought you'd have a little more time before he left. "Just come back safely," you whispered while he let you cry in his arms.

--------------------------

Bradley noticed right away that you were a little distant. Maybe you needed a day or two to process everything, but in another day or two, he'd be packing and leaving. He thought he was doing what you wanted him to, but you cried yourself to sleep on Thursday. You were obviously exhausted and frankly kind of moody, and now he was kicking himself for agreeing to a training mission that had no disclosed ending date.

"Fuck," he grunted on Saturday afternoon when he took Noah to the park so you could have some time to yourself. Pretty soon, you'd be on single, pregnant parent duty around the clock for probably weeks on end. Bradley's guilt was really prevalent now.

"Daddy?" Noah asked as he was being pushed on the swing.

"Yeah, Bub?"

"Can I have a Halloween costume?"

"Of course," Bradley groaned, cradling his forehead in his hand. Halloween was still six weeks away, but he could already imagine the tears in his son's eyes if he wasn't home in time for trick-or-treating. Hell, he hadn't even explained to Noah that he was going away again yet. "You can pick something out with Mommy," he added, his voice harsh now.

Noah looked back at him over his shoulder and started to slow himself down. When he jumped out of the swing, he ran to Bradley who scooped him up. "Can we go home?" he asked. He wrapped his arms around Bradley's neck like he could tell he needed a hug. "I miss Mommy and Skittles."

Bradley kissed his son's cheek. "You know what? I miss them, too. Let's go home." He buckled Noah in and drove slowly. He should probably start packing tonight, but he was just dying to spend some time alone with you. The last thing he wanted was to return to a quiet house and a quiet fiancée right now. You and he were going to need to have another conversation about this, and he already felt like a jerk for wanting to have everything.

When he pulled into the driveway as the sun was starting to set, you were in the front yard with Skittles on her leash. You were wearing one of your little floral dresses, and Bradley almost ran into your car as he looked at you. God, he was stupid for voluntarily agreeing to leave you. Once he was parked, you opened the back door and started unbuckling Noah and lifting him out like the most devoted mom in the world, and Bradley was about to lose his mind if he couldn't sort this out tonight.

"Hey, Daddy," you said softly as you turned, holding a very sleepy looking Noah against your shoulder. "Should we feed him dinner and get him in bed?"

"I think so," Bradley replied, eyeing you up and down, his gaze catching on your glossy lips. "You look gorgeous. Why are you all dressed up?"

You shrugged like it was nothing. "I just wanted to look cute for you."

His eyebrows shot up in response. "Don't you always?"

A soft smile found your lips as you started to head for the front door with Noah. Bradley followed you inside, and once Noah was eating leftovers, he pulled you into the hallway where he pushed you back against the wall.

"Does this mean we can talk about some things tonight?" he asked, stroking your bottom lip before kissing you softly.

You moaned gently into his mouth as his weight pressed against you. "Yes," you whispered. "Of course. We can talk about anything you want."

"You told me you wanted me to fly this mission," he said, and you nodded before you kissed the tip of his nose.

"I know. And I do. I just needed to process everything. The timeline just threw me off a little bit. And if I'm being honest, it's never not going to be scary when you leave."

"I'm coming back," he promised, knowing full well he only had so much control over that. "I'm coming back to my family as soon as I can."

This time when you nodded, you threw your arms around his neck and kissed him hard on the lips. "I know, Daddy," you whimpered between filthy kisses, rubbing yourself against him. He rutted you back into the wall, and you moaned his name as he cupped your ass. And that's when he felt it, firm against his fingertips compared to the softness of your body.

"Fuck," he grunted, easing your dress up inch by inch until he was touching the silicone.

"Do you want me to put my crown on to match?" you asked sweetly as he spread you open wider with his hands. "I can be your going away present."

Bradley leaned closer until his lips were pressed to your ear. "I want you in bed with your crown on as soon as Noah's asleep. Then I'm going to fuck the absolutely shit out of you. And then after that, I'm going to make love to you until you're satisfied. And then we're going to talk about everything that's going to happen while I'm in Japan until we're both comfortable with all of it. And then we're going to start planning our wedding."

"Yes," you agreed. "That's exactly how I want to spend our evening."

----------------------------

Just a few more chapters left. Do you think he made a good decision? Leaving Princess right now? Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

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patscorner · 1 month

Text

FAMILY DINNER

Summary: Chris joins your family for dinner for the first time and it does not go as planned

Tw: Swearing, narcissistic dad, verbal arguing, panic attack mentions of alcohol use, mentions of ed(NO DETAIL), lmk if I missed something

______________________________

"Baby, it'll be fine. I'm sure they're not so bad." Chris spoke. It was 6:45, and you and Chris were heading to a family dinner. After you and him had started dating, him, his brothers, and your family have been begging to meet one another.

But you knew better. You knew your dad couldn't hold his tongue, and you knew your mom couldn't hold back her comments about how you sat, how you spoke, how you looked. You knew your brothers and your sisters knew how to mess with you, not enough to make you cry, but just enough to piss you off.

"Chris, you have no idea." You say, leg bouncing nervously as you both sat in the back seat of the van. You only agreed to go if Matt and Nick came with, knowing that Chris wasn't going to be able to keep his temper in check.

"Don't worry, y/n, it'll be okay. It's not like any of us are gonna provoke them. They don't have any reason to hate us." Matt chimed in from the drivers seat. Chris squeezed your thigh reassuringly.

"It's not you guys that I'm worried about." You muttered, biting your nails. You just hoped your dad didn't have much to drink tonight.

"Plus, we're youtubers, a little back handed comment isn't gonna affect us." Nick smiled triumphantly.

Boy, were they in for a treat.

____

After what felt like 2 minutes, Matt parked the car in front of your childhood home. You've dreaded this moment ever since you and Chris started dating. You knew the time would come, but you just ignored it and pushed it back as far as you could. But eventually, everyone became impatient, and you were pushed out of your comfort zone.

Chris wasn't prepared. None of them were because nothing could prepare them for what they were getting into. Growing up with 2 older brothers, a younger brother, and 2 younger sisters, you knew just how quick it could turn hostile. You knew how it could be peaceful one moment, and the next, 2 people are driving off, 3 are crying, and one is smashing plates.

It could get ugly quick. Mostly, you were able to hide most of your family troubles from Chris, only occasionally giving him bits and pieces. This was completely different. This was a full view of what and where you grew up, and if anything was off or revealed, Chris would be there to see. That scared the shit out of you.

And Chris knew that, so he didn't push, no matter how eager he was. He never pushed you to do anything that made you uncomfortable. This, though, meant a lot to him, so he did voice his opinion.

So here you were, standing outside of the home you grew up in, with your boyfriend and his triplet brothers. You take a deep breath before knocking.

Here we go.

You lean back into Chris, who's hand found home around your waist, squeezing gently. He kissed the crown of your head, whispering, "Relax, baby, we got this."

You nod as you hear the lock turn and the door open. Your oldest brother, Peter, who was 26, stood in front of you. He looked much different from the last time you'd seen him, which was like 2 years ago.

Last time you two were together was at Christmas when your dad decided to get plastered the morning of Christmas and destroyed everyone's presents. Thousands of dollars down the drain. You swallowed at the memory.

"C'mere kid." Was all Peter said before engulfing you into a long needed hug.

You melted into your brothers touch. "It's been too long. Way too long." You mumble against his chest.

When you pull away, you see tears in Peter's eyes. You slap his chest playfully, "Oh, you big baby, don't cry."

He laughs, shaking his head and rubbing his eyes. You laugh and hold his hand.

Nick clears his throat, bringing your and Peter's attention to the three same face boys.

"Oh! Yeah, Peter, meet my boyfriend, Chris, and his older brothers, Matt and Nick." You say, moving out of the way for the men to exchange greetings and hand shakes.

"I'd like to apologize in advance, I'm definitely gonna have trouble telling you guys apart." Peter laughs.

"Oh, don't worry about it. It happens all the time." Matt reassures. Nick and Chris nod in agreement.

"Okay, well, Dad's at the store - thank God -" He interrupted himself, putting his hands together and looking up, earning a chuckle from you, "but everyone else, excluding Cam, is here."

Your heart drops at his sentence. Your second oldest brother, Cameron, hadn't been to a family gathering since he moved out. You can't say you blame him, knowing your family, you wish you'd had the heart to leave too. It was still disappointing, despite how much you understood. Cam and you had always been the closest growing up, and your heart ached, knowing the rest of your family ruined that bond for you two. You and him were only 2 years apart, him being 22, and you being 20.

You knew you shouldn't have expected him to magically appear, but you were hopeful.

"That's okay. Let's go inside, I want them to meet the rest of the dumbasses." You say, trying to hide the disappointment, and it mostly worked, but when you turned around, you knew Chris knew.

He always knew.

You smiled at him and grabbed his hand, leading him into your house, gesturing Matt and Nick to follow.

Peter leads everyone down the hallway, the sound of playful yelling sounding from the living room. Peter took a left, walking into the room, smiling widely.

"Guess who's here!" He says happily, turning around to you, who stands in the doorway, smiling widely.

James, Maya, and Julia, your younger siblings, looked up and smiled widely.

"Y/nnnn!" Maya yelled, getting up and hugging you tightly. "Woah! Hey, hi baby." You say, smiling into her head.

Maya was the youngest, at 11 years old. She was the peacemaker, no matter how demanding, she probably had the best communication skills out of everyone. Which is saying something, she's 11.

"Alright, alright, save some for us." You look up and see your youngest brother, James, standing next to Julia, waiting their turn for a hug.

You let go of Maya and walk over to the 15 year old twins and embrace them tightly. God, how you missed them. This hug was shorter, only because your mother spoke up.

"Well, finally! What took you guys so long?" She asked, rolling her eyes. You break the hug, sighing heavily.

"Hi, mom. I'm happy to see you, too. Uh, this is Chris and his triplet brothers, Matt and Nick." You say, lifting your hand, gesturing towards the three men.

You smile as your siblings exchange greetings with the triplets, just as Peter did, happy that they were in a good mood. You turn back to your mom, who has a strange look on her face.

"What?" You ask, confused, sitting down on the couch next to her. "I thought you were only bringing your boyfriend? Or are you dating all three?"

Your eyes shoot to hers, a look of disgust covering your face. "What-Mom, no! Matt's talking to someone and Nick..." You cut yourself off, debating whether or not telling you mom about Nick's sexuality. It's not that your mom was homophobic, she just wasn't exactly open to it. You knew that if you told her, she'd figure out a way to make an untimely and out of pocket comment about it.

"Nick...?" Your mom gestures you to continue speaking.

You open your mouth to speak, but you hear the front door open. Oh shit. The party has started.

"Dad's here!" Maya shouts, running to the door. Chris sat down on the couch next to you, Matt and Nick next to him.

You notice Nick talking to Julia about her favorite music artists, and it looks like their having a good time. Peter and Matt seem to be getting along, while Chris and James talk about the most recent Celtics game.

Despite all the calm conversations going on around you, you can't help but feel nervous. Your dad's here, which puts everyone, at least on your side, on high alert, making sure they tiptoe on their words.

Chris notices you tense up and place his hand on your thigh, which you reach and squeeze his hand, not for his sake, but for yours.

Your dad walks in and freezes for a moment. It was a long moment, long enough for everyone to notice his presence and get silent. You and him stare at each other, not breaking eye contact for a minute.

Finally, after the deafening silence, you decide to speak. "Hey, dad." You breathe.

His shocked face turns into a soft smile. "Hey, kiddo, c'mere." You smile softly, cherishing the peace while it lasts. You stand up and walk over to your dad and embrace him. You knew what he was capable of, but you also knew how much he loved you and your siblings.

You could be mad at him all you wanted, but he's still your dad. "I missed you, y/n." He mutters into your head. You smile into his chest because as much as you hated to admit it, you missed him too. When he wasn't drunk or being an ass, he was a pretty awesome person.

You pull away, and he kisses your cheek before gesturing to the audience behind you. "And who are these fine gentlemen?" He asked.

You smiled. "That one's Chris, my boyfriend, and those are his triplet brothers, Nick and Matt." You say, gesturing to the boys, who wave as their introduced.

"Nice to meet you all, especially you, Chris." He smiles sarcastically. Here we go.

Suddenly, his demeanor changed. His shoulders tensed, and his fist clenched. You look at him curiously and wonder what flipped the switch, what pissed him off this time.

Chris smiles kindly. "Nice to meet you, too, sir."

Your dad nods before glancing at you and looking up again. "Dinner should be ready. How's everyone feel about spaghetti?" He clapsed his hands together.

He earns a collective 'yes' from everyone before picking up Maya in his arms and carrying her to the kitchen. Everyone stands up and begins to follow, except for you and Chris. He grabs your hand and pulls you closer to him.

"You okay, ma?" He asked. He must've noticed your demeanor change from happy and cheery to suspicious and confusion.

You nod your head hesitantly, still thinking about how quickly your father changed his mind about being kind. "Uh... yeah, yeah, I'm okay." You say softly.

He looks at you curiously. "Are you sure?" You nod again. "Yeah, let's go eat."

____

Quiet chatter amongst the families began at the dinner table, after everybody had gotten food. You noticed your anxiety seemingly grow stronger as the dinner continued. Nothing had happened yet, and that's what scared you.

Your leg bounced under the table, and despite Chris's attempts to soothe you by rubbing your thigh, nothing seemed to work. Even Chris's touch seemed to be too much, too overwhelming.

You feel your breathing catch in your throat, and suddenly, the gentle chatter becomes too overwhelming. The scraping of the forks echoed loudly in your ears as your hands started to sweat.

You stand up abruptly, catching the attention of all three triplets and James.

"Excuse me." You muttered before rushing to the bathroom and closing the door.

You curl into a ball, breathing heavily as tears fall from your eyes. You weren't having a panic attack yet, but if you didn't get your breathing in check, you'd get one soon.

You list off things in your head, things that make you happy. Sunshine, Chris, dogs in clothes, Chris, Sour Patch Kids, Chris

Speaking of which, you hear the door open, and you force yourself to look up, seeing your loving boyfriend. He got down on your level, taking your hand and putting it on his chest.

You catch on quickly, taking breaths that match his, well, kinda. Yours are shakier, but you're getting there. "It's okay, baby, you're okay. Shhh.." Chris whispers, his other hand rubbing your back.

You sigh as you finally take a deep breath of air, leaning your head against Chris's shoulder as he hands rub shapes on your back.

"It's okay, baby, you're stressing yourself out. It'll be okay." He whispers as he stands up and pulls you up with him.

He embraces you once again as you sniffle into his hoodie. You pull back and wipe your face aggressively, laughing quietly.

Chris cups your face, wiping your tears before pressing a kiss so soft, it was almost ghostlike, on your lips. You smile at him.

"Thank you, baby." You say rubbing his bicep in appreciation. He smiles down at you, kissing your forehead. "Of course, baby. I love you. Are you ready?"

You nod, and Chris opens the door, hand in yours as you all walk back into the dining room. Most conversations continued, but you noticed your dad and mom talking quietly amongst themselves, and it didn't look pleasant.

Your dad's eyes shoot to yours as he chuckles darkly.

Fuck. This can't end well.

"And what the fuck were you two doing?"

You smile, trying to swallow your fear. You notice Chris squeeze your hand, and you squeezed back in reassurance.

"Just had to take a breather. It's all good now, though, don't worry." You say as you and Chris sit down. You hope it's enough to satisfy your dad's curiosity, but unfortunately it's not.

"So you and him didn't just fuck in the bathroom." You freeze. Every conversation stops immediately at those words, as he wasn't quiet about it.

"What- dad, no. Why would you say that?" You sputter as a pink hue comes over your face. You glance at Chris, who's just as shocked as you.

"Sir, I'd never do that, especially here." Chris says calmly, but you can tell that one comment pissed him off completely.

Your dad stares at you both as a silence covers the room like a weighted blanket. Just when the tension seems to reach its peak, your dad speaks up.

"Good. Now, let's eat." He says, passing the food to you.

Jesus, this is gonna be a long night.

______________________________

Part 2 is coming soon.

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