#he still will straight up move in with his bestie to get away from them | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

blkkizzat · 7 months

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ღ𝐖𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐰𝐨𝐥𝐟!𝐓𝐨𝐣𝐢 ღ

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟏 𝐨𝐟 𝟐

18+ONLY MDNI

kizzatober series: Thrilling Ghouls

Kinktober Prompts: Breeding, Dacryphilia, Aphrodisiac Synopsis: Catching him in a lie, you suspect your boyfriend Toji is cheating on you. Where does he keep disappearing to once a month that keeps him away for often days at a time. You're fed up. You've made up your mind this time to follow him but are you ready for what you discover? CW: AU. Most warnings for P2 really. Slightly dubcon-y. Bully/mean/teasing Toji. Bratty/crazy gf reader. Rough sex. Drug ref. Werewolf transformation but this isn't that furry shit lol. Omegaverse themes I borrow heavily from but I'm not following the rules of it faithfully (I don't even know them myself lol) WC: 4k of 10.4k Lightly black fem coded but no descriptors.

A/N: This one took a bit longer expected as I recently caught a cold, boooo! But I'm realizing even in my fics I intend to be PWPs I still need to set the mood and a plot springs forth lmfao. Plus I had fun actually trying to write a bit of horror in too! I decided to split into 2 parts because of the delay already.

Big shout out to an irl bestie @sairotonin for drawing a sketch of Werewolf!Toji for her inktober for me to use in my gfx. TY sis you a real one!!

Enjoy!

“In the next 500ft, turn left.”

This was going to be the third goddamn left the car navigation told you to take in the last 20 minutes. You were ninety-nine percent sure you had been going in circles and were now lost as shit at night in the middle of nowhere.

You glance at your phone sitting in the dash-caddy.

One measly bar.

The further you traveled, the more the service bars were dwindling as well.

Shit, you had 3 full bars last time you looked.

Opting to keep ahead straight instead of turning, you cross-check your destination via the spy monitoring app you had shamelessly downloaded on your boyfriend Toji’s phone.

Toji’s current location was 45 miles outside of the city and it had been a good 10 miles since you last saw any kind of highway. The area you were in was a mix between nature reserve and private property so not even GPS could pin down the exact directions to his whereabouts.

Sigh.

You had never wanted to be That Girl™.

You know, the ones who would sneak peaks at their boyfriend’s phones, were super insecure about any interaction their man had with the opposite sex and ran down on them while they were out to catch them in the act of cheating.

But you were a woman at the end of her rope.

What else could you do?

For a few days every month Toji would simply disappear.

The various excuses he gave usually centered around his work. You didn’t know exactly what he did, but you knew enough to know most of it was dangerous and wasn’t what good society would consider legal.

Toji had scolded you before for asking too many details.

For your own safety.

He would say with an arrogant smirk.

But even when working you had always been able to get a hold of him after a few hours. It was just this one particular job he would completely drop off the face of the earth for. It annoyed you, sure, but Toij’s work never followed him home so you didn't have complaints.

That is, until you had finally moved-in with him and Megumi.

Truly, you were already like a little family.

Megumi, who had just recently started preschool, had been quick to warm up to you ever since you and Toji first introduced you to him a few months prior to that.

But living together pushed things to a whole other level. Megumi would follow you around like a lost pup and often opted to sit in your lap rather than Toji’s.

Not to mention throw a near fit if you weren’t the one to tuck him in goodnight. (Toji would never admit he was a bit jealous and would only grumble slightly that it was less of a hassle for him if you did it so you should just do it from now on).

You never even realized you had such a mothering instinct, being on the same page as Toji about no more kids, until you looked into those little emerald eyes of Gumi’s and absolutely melted.

You had grown so close that the little boy unknowingly let it slip once while Toji was MIA on that job, that he was glad Daddy went on his daddy breaks once a month so you both could have fun together by yourselves.

You tried to keep your reactions in check for Megumi but that revelation completely shook you.

A “daddy break” didn’t sound much like a work trip to you which spiked your anxiety and caused you to spiral into overthinking.

Did he need a break from you too as well?

You couldn't very well grill a 4-year old and you didn’t have the nerve to just ask Toji straight out.

So you did the only thing you could think of at the time and that was to complain to your good friend Tsukumo over drinks a few days later after Toji returned.

Tsukumo, who always seemed to have the wrong answer for everything, simply told you to do the ‘smart’ thing and download a monitoring app on his phone that would log is calls, texts and whereabouts.

You initially balked at her.

Tracking Toji had never crossed your mind.

Outside of this, Toji had never given you a reason to doubt him and you wanted to respect his privacy and trust, especially trust as you knew he didn’t let many people get close to him at all.

True, he wasn’t exactly the most forthcoming man you ever dated. You were well aware he had his many skeletons as well as ex-hookups. But Toji for the most part had been content with his gambling then coming home to you and Megumi.

He wasn’t the type to ‘run the streets with the boys (he had no boys tbh), you had only ever known him to have the occasional drink with Shiu when he wasn’t out gambling.

You had almost refused to do such a thing… That is until Tsukumo posed the question:

What’s more important Y/N– your peace of mind or his trust?

And Y/N, is trust really what’s important here at all if he is in fact already taking advantage of yours?

Touché.

Tsukumo had you there.

“Besides, you think that old dinosaur is even going to notice an extra app on his phone in the first place?”

Tsukumo quipped, throwing back a shot of sake and jiggling the empty container at the bartender for more.

“You just got rid of his old flip phone last year. I’m surprised he can even use a touchscreen without punching a hole through it. Just delete the app once you’ve seen what you needed to see.”

Tsukumo gave you this advice like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Ignoring her digs at Toji’s age, and maybe it was the 3 bottles of sake the both of you had blown through in the last hour, but you were starting to think she might be onto something.

“Mmm, on second thought, might as well keep it on there. Men like Fushiguro are dogs that need to be kept on tight leashes.”

Tsukumo grinned at you with a wink before turning her attention back to the bartender.

You still didn’t know then if you would actually go through with it.

Nevertheless, here you are now at 11:15 PM at night about to pull up on your boyfriend thanks to Tsukumo’s advice to find out once and for all if Toji was cheating on you.

You had dropped Megumi off at his best friend Yuji’s for the night, thanking Yuji’s parents for watching him and feeling guilty for lying to them that you and Toji had a date night.

Almost there.

You are within 2 miles of arriving at the vicinity of where the monitoring app says Toji is.

However, your anxieties were getting the best of you as you drove in near tears.

You turn up your music louder, the booming bass distracting you from how much darker and creepier it gets the further you drive into the wooded area.

Sighing again, you had no idea how this would turn out but you knew the result would determine whether you would be listening to Positions by Ariana Grande or Playing Games by Summer Walker on repeat during the drive back.

☠

Barely a half mile later, you see the engine light of your car flash. The pungent odor of burning oil fills the car as a plume of smoke escapes out from under the hood.

Goddamn it, Toji.

“Y/N, make sure to go get ‘er an oil change while I’m gone. Ya got like 15 good miles left on ‘er.” Toji’s voice rang in your mind.

Well the big lunk he was wrong.

You had driven at least 33 miles so far.

You mentally cussed him again.

Toji was the one who was supposed to change your oil, he used your car more than you did. Only opting to use his own blacked out unplated and unlicensed car for jobs like he was on now.

You wouldn’t have even left the house if it wasn’t for his sketchy cheating headass.

Okay, so you hadn’t exactly confirmed that just yet, but you were pissed and until you confirmed otherwise, right now he was a cheater and everything about this situation was his fault.

Pulling over to the side of the dirt road before you caused further damage to your car, you weighed your options.

Option 1: Call AAA

You had zero bars though.

Fuck.

Option 2: Wait here in the safety of the car until morning.

You would still have zero bars and you might miss Toji, making this whole trip fruitless.

If he beat you home in the morning and found you gone with Megumi at Yuji’s with the sad excuse for a 'date night' lie you gave, you would never hear the end of it.

He would taunt you into oblivion that your silly ass drove all the way up here unto the woods for your car to break down cause you were too busy being a psycho bitch to remember to get an oil change.

Option 3: Walk on foot the rest of the way to Toji.

Really the only viable option you had.

It was a good 12 miles or so back to the highway, you didn’t know how many turns you had made since then and you doubt you could make it back on foot anyway. If you were going to walk a few miles to get service again you might as well walk to where Toji was.

Sure if he wasn’t cheating you would still get ridiculed, but at least you could get a ride home.

And if he was cheating, you would hot wire his car (one of the few useful things he did teach you) and that motherfucker and his whore could find their own way home.

Resolving yourself to walk, you put on Toji's hoodie that fortunately was still in the backseat from him last using your car to go to the gym.

You really should have put more thought into planning this before you left. Besides Toji’s oversized worn hoodie that reached your mid-thighs all you were wearing was a thin white shirt and black spandex shorts.

You didn’t even have sneakers or boots, as you looked down at your fuzzy black slippers you mostly only wore outside to run short errands like dropping off Megumi at preschool or picking up groceries.

Thankfully, you did have a small flashlight in the glove compartment though in case of emergencies like this.

Flashlight in tow, you step outside of your stalled car and immediately suck in a worried breath as the weight of the chilly night settles over you like a heavy cloak.

You only have a mile and a half trek but the dirt road that stretches out before you looks endless as it disappears into the obscurity of the thick shroud of fog surrounding you.

The flashlight doesn’t do much to cut through the intense density of condensation. You had only made it a mere 20 feet from your car but you can just barely make out its faint outline.

Swallowing, you put on your bravest face and fix your gaze forward.

The reflections of your flashlight casts shifty patterns on the mist in your peripheral vision and you do your best to ignore the chill that creeps up your shoulders.

“Fuck you, Toji.”

You mumble half-heartedly, pulling the hood over head.

You didn’t really mean it though. Would-be-cheater or not more than anything you wished he was here with you now.

You were freezing, tired and all you could think about was how warm and safe you would feel in Toji’s arms. Even if you were mad at him.

You pick up the pace, wanting to get to him sooner.

Almost more unnerving than the fog itself, the forest around you is as quiet as a grave.

There are no chirps of crickets, nor hoots of owls.

Not even in the crisp cold of fall does the wind rustle through the trees, everything is silent.

The haunting nature around you seems to hold its breath as if it knows you're an unwelcome intruder who has trespassed too far.

You don’t dare peer into the trees which look taller in the darkness, closing in tightly on the dirt road. They are ghastly silhouettes of their former selves blocking any moonlight to help guide your way.

You shiver as you feel as if you are being watched from a distance.

The only noise you hear is the soft crunching of rocks and leaves beneath your feet with every unsure step you take forward.

You can’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of dread as a stray tear runs down your cheek.

You couldn’t get to Toji soon enough.

Though you still didn’t have any service the GPS updated as much as it could in roaming, you were so close.

As you continue forward a shadow on the path catches your eye in the foggy distance.

Your heart quickens as you inch closer, your anticipation mingling with fear.

Shapes soon begin to take form and the harsh reality dawns upon you.

A pack of wolves.

Their shadowy figures coalesce before you through the fog as they take stock of you.

You start to feel queasy as you see their red-stained muzzles dripping with the blood of their latest kill. The grotesque carcass of a deer practically stripped to the bone lay lifeless under their enormous paws.

Their eyes, fierce and predatory, meet yours with a chilling intensity as the feeble beam of your flashlight washes over them. The deer, although large, you know is not enough to quell hunger from beasts of their size.

With a shaky breath you slowly retreat, not wanting to further agitate their already aggravated predatory senses.

Then you hear it.

From what seems to be the darkest reaches of the night, a sound reverberates from the trees, through the forest and beyond that's unlike anything you've ever heard before.

The howl that tears through the stillness is so chilling you instantly feel the lamentation that carries the weight of centuries of primal power down in the very marrow of your bones.

Even the wolves snap their heads to attention and bow their heads as if the sound announced the presence of a creature much higher on the food chain... something more ancient and malevolent…

...something terrifyingly unhuman.

The body racking shiver you experience is so intense it has you sprinting at full speed before your mind, frozen from fear, can even process you are moving.

You burst through the dense trees, leaving the road as your heart pounds like a drum in your chest and tears stream freely down your cheeks to soak the edge of Toji’s sweatshirt.

The tangled underbrush of the forest whips the soft skin of your legs and the forest itself seems to conspire against you as you navigate the obstacle course of branches, logs and large rocks all seemingly with a mission to slow you down.

You can hear the chilling howls of the wolves you saw on the road call out behind you, giving chase.

The sounds of their footfalls grow closer with every passing second.

Terrifying as they are, they hold no candle against the howl that sent you running and your body continues to propel you forward.

Panic frazzles your senses and you make the tragic error of trying to steal a glance back behind you before directly colliding with a large cedar.

Groaning from the impact you reel as you try to gather yourself, clinging to the tree for support.

You hear a twig snap behind you and you whirl around as you are faced with a largest gray wolf out of the pack who had been chasing you.

The alpha wolf’s teeth glint menacingly as their breath escapes in visible puffs in the frigid night air.

Too late to try to make a run for it again, you whimper as you resign yourself to your fate. You slid down the large tree to bury your face in your knees.

Was this it?

Was this how you died?

You weren’t even able to see Toji after coming all this way.

You also wanted to be able to hug Megumi one last time and maybe knock the daylights out of Tsukumo for her horrible ass idea.

But ultimately this was all your fault.

You could be snuggled up with Gumi on the sofa with snacks watching Anpanman but your dumbass had to go galavanting off into the middle of the woods like a fucking lunatic and now you’re about to be eaten by a wolf.

You could feel the wolf’s overbearing presence as it approached you but you couldn’t bear to look up. You’d rather spend your final moments thinking of Toji and Megumi.

Yet despite your impending doom, your head did snap up once you felt a rough tongue gently lick your ankles and curiously sniff at the ends of Toji's hoodie covering your legs.

The wolf was more than intimidating up close as its giant muzzle was the size of your entire head.

However the wolf regarded you cautiously like it almost recognized you before releasing its own chillingly deep howl and promptly running off.

Wait– T-The hell?!

You sat there at the trunk of the tree trying to process the interaction that just took place but you didn’t have much time to ponder as you heard something else approaching you rapidly.

The sound of snapping twigs and heavy, uneven footfalls don’t seem to be that of a wolf, renewing the sensation of dread through your body.

Your heart races in your chest as the ominous sounds of the being looming evermore closer become more pronounced.

From the shadows emerges a monstrous figure.

The fog doesn’t reach this deep into the forest and the moonlight that peeks between the trees glimmers on its enlarged taut muscles.

Its eyes, red, burn like fiery amber.

Fierce and resolute you can see them pierce through the darkness long before you can make out any features of the creature's face.

What you think upon first glance must be a demonic apparition from your worst nightmares ends up being–

Toji?!

As he steps into a beam of moonlight, the transformation before you is complete.

Toji’s once-human and feet hands have become formidable claws with nails like blades, his face remains mostly unchanged with the exception of his mouth which in his snarl reveals rows of gleaming, razor-sharp teeth.

He is still mostly human in appearance but you can tell he stands taller, nearly 8 feet.

The thicker body hair on his forearms bristles with raw power.

He was completely bare save for the tattered jeans barely hanging on his body that had torn from the sheer size of his enormous muscularity in this form.

Each step he takes towards you makes your heart skip a beat yet you stare transfixed, unable to look away and your tears increase.

Was this terrifying otherworldly apparition the boyfriend you had been searching for?

Time stands still in that haunting moment as Toji’s eyes bore into your soul with a predatory intensity.

His hunger and primal instincts radiates off of him like a palpable force.

“T-T-Toji?”

You cautiously inquire through your quiet sobs.

“Y/N?! What the fuck do you think y’er doing out here?”

Toji snarls back at you. His growl seems to cause the very atmosphere to vibrate and the earth beneath you quakes as your body involuntarily quivered with fear.

Toji thought he must have been losing his goddamn mind when he caught onto your scent earlier but here you were like a lost little lamb to the slaughter before him.

He came out onto the woods to be alone, away from civilization and away from you and Megumi during his monthly transformations.

It was safer that way, for all of you.

You had been fortunate the local wolf pack had acknowledged him as their Alpha and recognized his scent on you.

But there were far worse dangers in the forest besides them.

Toji wouldn’t be able to protect you like he was now.

Not with you needing protection from him too.

Protection from him as not only was it a full moon, it was a harvest moon, a mating moon.

The primal urge to rip you apart was only truncated by the more intense carnal urge to mate with you. Toji wanted to claim you as his and fuck you so hard into the girthy cedar behind you the entire tree would topple over by its roots.

He had wanted to claim you as his mate for a while now.

Even moved you in with him and Megumi as the final step but you couldn’t wait for that, could you?

You had managed to track him somehow all the way out here and throw his whole plan into the shitter.

He could barely control himself in this form as it is and now your scent, blubbering cries and the fucking harvest moon were sending him with full force into a fierce rut.

“T-Toji w-what is this!? W-what’s happened to you!? W-what are you doing out here?!”

Worry saturates your voice as you choke out your questions in rapid fire cries not giving him time to even respond.

Toji fights the predatory instinct in him who sees you as his prey and if your gaze wasn’t so focused on trying to read his face for answers you surely would have noticed him fully bricked near bursting out of his worn jeans.

You looked so appetizing.

He needed you.

However, Toji could tell your nerves were completely shot and the slightest twitch of his muscles toward you had you almost jumping out of your skin like a little bunny rabbit.

“Y-Y/N…”

His voice strained itself into a murmur as he attempted to do his best to lull you into some sort of security so he could explain things calmly to you.

Yet the way he was near salivating, drool dripping from his canines as he panted and towered over you did anything but make you feel secure.

You mistook his lust for bloodthirstiness.

“Just calm down. It’s OK.”

Toji needed you to be calm like he needed you to take steadier breaths if he was going to successfully win the tumultuous war he was fighting against his instincts to pounce on you.

There is an oppressive tension between the two of you and he can tell you are also fighting against your fight or flight reflexes.

Good girl.

It would be disastrous if you did something foolish, no telling what might happen then.

But unfortunately for the both of you, your fits of emotion and impulses are what had your crazy ass out here in the first place.

The pressure had officially gotten to you.

Toji’s lies, your car, the woods, the wolves, everything leading up to this point bubbled over because the last thing you wanted to be told right now was to ‘just calm down’.

You snapped.

“Ok? OK?! OKAY?!...TOJI WHAT THE FUCK ABOUT THIS IS O.K. RIGHT NOW!?”

You were practically hysterical as you yelled at him, momentarily forgetting your fears of Toji’s new form.

The trigger of being told to 'calm down' in a situation where you clearly had every right to feel every fucking emotion you wanted won out over everything else.

“MY CAR BROKE DOWN BECAUSE OF YOU DOING GOD KNOWS WHAT WITH WHOEVER THE FUCK OUT HERE, I LITERALLY WAS JUST CHASED BY WOLVES, ALMOST EATEN, AND Y-YOU… Y-YOU-”

A crackling snap came from above you and you realized Toji’s claws had completely ripped a large chunk out of the tree right above your head.

Your tantrum had in turn pushed him over the edge as well.

His irises flared intensely at you as you quivered under his gaze in fear.

He would have you but first, he would play with you a bit.

Things never happened the easy way with you.

Yet, that’s also exactly the way Toji liked it too. That's why he'd put up with you thus far.

A malevolent smirk dons Toji's features as his simple command issues an unsettling tremor running down into the depths of your being.

“Run.”

P2 HERE!

© ʙʟᴋᴋɪᴢᴢᴀᴛ 2023. ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛꜱ ʀᴇꜱᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ. ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ꜱᴛᴇᴀʟ, ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛᴇ, ᴄᴏᴘʏ ᴏʀ ᴄʜᴀɴɢᴇ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇꜱ ꜰɪᴄꜱ, ᴅʀᴀʙʙʟᴇꜱ, & ɢʀᴀᴘʜɪᴄꜱ. ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴀʀᴇ ᴀʟʟ ᴍᴀᴅᴇ ʙʏ ᴍᴇ ᴜɴʟᴇꜱꜱ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀᴡɪꜱᴇ ꜱᴛᴀᴛᴇᴅ. ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ

A/N: Count on Tsukumo to always given the wrong fuckin’ advice. Lmfao! Or was it the right advice in this case? Hmm we will see what happens next!

Smutty goodness in the next part. This part was just to set the horror mood!

I promise this fic isn't as nearly as long as Ghostface!Choso. It's looking to be about 8k total and I have 3.5k of P2 finished lol.

Reblog if you are both submissive and breedable for Werewolf!Toji, but likes and comments are appreciated all the same!

ღTaglistღ:

@callm3senpaii @arxliana @jujutsualy @luxiethefairy @fredswh0re @missphanosaur18 @moon-esque @briefrebelfanalmond @nikkitc0703 & @dancingwithdeities (prone bone coming in p2 just for u sweets!) LMK below if you would like to be tagged in P2. For all kizzatober fic tags comment on m.list.

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ddejavvu · 2 years

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Lost and Found - Eddie Munson x Reader (Part 2) | Part 1

WC: 7.0K / navi / preview / request

Summary: Eddie is happy to teach you everything he knows about DnD, he just wishes you weren't so goddamn distracting

Contents/Warnings: eddie n wayne, besties forever <3 very very fluffy lots of yearning and ridiculously cheesy moments, lovesick!eddie, reader wears a skirt and eddie's hellfire shirt from part 1, suggestive material, but still minor-friendly (part three will not be)

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

“Christ on a cracker, son,” Wayne swears, nearly pushed to the ground as Eddie slams the trailer door open, “Calm down.”

“Sorry Wayne!” Eddie barely takes a second to breathe before he flies through the space, feet pounding on the matted carpet of the trailer as he races to his bedroom.

“What’s the rush?” Wayne is well aware of his nephew’s recreational habits, as well as his business endeavors, and shudders to think that there might be some drug-crazed lunatic after the boy.

But Eddie pops his wide-eyed face out from his bedroom only seconds later, shirt and pants torn off to leave him in his boxers as he darts for the shower, “There’s a girl coming over.”

That’s a new one. Wayne has heard a few feminine voices outside the trailer before, when they’re out of stock and need replenishing, but Eddie never showers for them. He probably should, Wayne always tells the boy that if he stinks any worse he’ll have to move out, but he’s never shown an interest until now.

“And,” Wayne peers into the bathroom, seeing Eddie frantically combing out his hair, the plastic nearly snapping under the pressure he’s putting on it, “This is a special girl?”

“I- I don’t know,” Eddie huffs, his crazed panic still alive as he whirls around the bathroom for a clean towel, “Sort of. I don’t really know her yet.”

“Y’know ‘er enough to care.” Wayne prompts him, and Eddie deflates slightly. He’s looking in the mirror, trying to part his hair neatly so that he can wash it easier. He stops, his hands falling from his head to his sides as he stares hard at his reflection.

“I want to impress her.” Eddie admits, his usual self-assuredness now gone, “Or- impress isn’t right,” He puzzles for a moment, his eyes drifting over his features, “Just- I don’t want to scare her away.”

“Well I think it’s good you’re showering then,” Wayne lightens the mood, “‘Not sure she could handle your B.O.”

“Shut up,” Eddie takes the out, shoving at his uncle’s shoulder with no real force, “I’m gonna order pizza for us. She wants to learn how to play DnD.”

Wayne’s eyebrows skyrocket, “She wants to learn? Or have you kidnapped and brainwashed her like those basketball players tell me you do?”

“She’s under my control,” Eddie rasps, his voice thick in his throat.

Wayne snorts, standing up straight from where he’d been leaning against the doorframe, “Alright, boy. I’ll leave you to it, but if you need help getting ready for tonight, I’m here.”

“Thanks,” Eddie breathes, flashing his signature grin at his uncle before he shuts the door.

Wayne watches the closed door with something light and airy filling his chest, maybe laughing gas at the way he chortles hearing Eddie drop the comb into the sink for the tenth time since he started. Then he turns, and the reality of their home hits him.

It’s messy.

Far too messy to accept company, which is why the pair hasn’t for years. Aside from Eddie’s trusted friends, all of whom are far too sloppy themselves to bat an eye at the general clutter around the trailer, no one has set foot in their space for five long years.

Now, he’s all for encouraging Eddie to be himself, that if someone doesn’t like who he is, then they’re not fit for a friend. But he’s sure that you’re far too important to Eddie for that test just yet, and he’s not sure he wants you to get to know his nephew as messy when there’s so many other qualities he possesses. That’s something you can discover later, when you’re hooked on his charm and wit and won’t mind stepping on a pair of boxers or two to get down the hallway. He gets to work clearing away mindless clutter, collecting shirts strewn over the furniture and paper plates tucked under the couch.

By the time Eddie finishes showering (and falling, twice), Wayne has the entire living room de-cluttered, although most of the loose papers and items have made their way onto the kitchen table instead of being put in their places. Eddie steps out of the bathroom, towel tucked around his waist and a hand in his curls, dragging his fingers through the wet tangles, and he stops dead in the doorway, eyes wide.

“Shit,” He breathes, watching his uncle crouch to tug an empty beer can out from behind the door and stuff it into the trash bag he’s got going, “Wayne, what are you doing?”

“Cleaning up,” Wayne states the obvious, raising an eyebrow unimpressed at his nephew’s cognitive skills, “What does it look like I’m doing?”

“Are-” Eddie stops combing through his hair, standing limply in front of his uncle, “Are you doing this ‘cause Y/N’s coming over?”

“That’s her name?” Wayne smiles, “‘S a pretty one.”

“You are,” Eddie marvels, “Uh, thanks, Wayne.”

Wayne’s hands and knees burn against the scratchy carpet, the beer can in his hands sharp from being crushed. He stands, the worn fabric of his flannel falling limp against his distressed jeans. He stands there, tattered and messy, looking at the way Eddie’s cleaned himself up.

He’s wearing a tank top, a KISS shirt that he was gifted on his tenth birthday. It’s got tour dates on the back, one of which Wayne took Eddie to as a present. Apparently it didn’t look good enough as a t-shirt though, because the boy had taken scissors to it a few years back, carving out holes the size of craters that expose part of his side.

His hair is bundled up in a bun atop his head, scrunched up and crimping itself while it dries. He always tells Eddie not to do that, to leave it down so that each strand can dry individually, but Eddie hates the feeling of wet hair on his skin, so he pulls it up and leaves it sitting until he can blow-dry it.

The same ripped jeans he’d worn to school are back on his waist, belt cinched tight around him with his handcuffs pinned there. Wayne always tells him he’ll confuse someone, make them think he’s an undercover cop, but Eddie only laughs at him. There’s a chain hooked through his belt that rests on his hip, dipping close to his knee and gleaming in the artificial light above them.

There’s two necklaces bouncing against his chest as he walks over to help Wayne with the overflowing trash bag, his typical guitar pick and a dog tag he’d found in the street one day. It says Sprinkles on one side, but Eddie swears that it looks metal if he turns it the other way, the owner’s number stamped across it.

He has an earring in. Eddie almost never puts an earring in, because his at-home ear piercing hadn’t produced the most sanitary results. He says it burns when he wears earrings, but here he is, a heavy silver hoop through one ear and a black cuff pinched tight at the helix of the other.

Wayne looks at his nephew, his boy, and pride surges through his chest. Pride, a little bit of awe, and happiness. He cares. This is something Eddie really cares about, you are something Eddie really cares about, and it’s obvious by the things he’s done for you before you’ve even come over. Eddie has always cared, perhaps a bit too much, and it’s easy to tell when he does from the little things he pieces together to show it.

“You look good, boy.” Wayne breaks the careful silence the two had slipped into, watching Eddie tug the straps to the garbage bag. He reddens slightly, his cheeks flaring in color, something akin to the shade of the tomato soup he’d managed to botch for last thursday’s dinner. How the boy had undercooked a can of soup, he’d never know.

“Thanks, Wayne.” Eddie mumbles, forearms flexing as he ties a knot into the strings of the garbage bag, “I’ll take this out.”

“We should start on your room,” Wayne points out as Eddie tries making his frantic exit, spooked by praise. Eddie nods once, and Wayne lets him escape to the dumpster to process the emotions he’s got swirling inside of him.

He knows the boy gets shy around praise, which is why he tries not to overwhelm him. But today is different, today is a bigger step than he’s seen Eddie take in a long time, and it’s hard not to burst with pride.

When Eddie comes back inside Wayne is already tiptoeing around his room, dodging suspicious socks and cassette tapes strewn about. Eddie gets to work stacking those, a comfortable silence falling over the pair as they set to work.

“Wayne?” Eddie’s voice is timid, meek.

“Yeah?” Wayne reaches under his bed, pulling out a magazine that he shouldn’t have and a sock, something Wayne doesn’t want to think about as a pair.

“Do you.. Do you really think I look nice?” As soon as the words are out of his mouth he’s stammering, shaking his head so that his bun wobbles dangerously, “I- I mean, like- not like nice, but do you… you think she’ll like it?”

“Son, if she asked you to teach her about your game, I’m sure she’s not scared of you.”

“But is that enough? Shouldn’t she,” Eddie abandons the cassettes in his hand, scratching bashfully at the back of his neck and combing through the stray hairs there, “I dunno, like me? Not just not hate me?”

“Well I’d give her some time if I were you,” Wayne chuckles, reminded of the restlessness of youth, “You’ve only known her a day.”

“Right.” Eddie nods frantically, eyes glued to the tapes he busies himself with again, “Yeah, I will.”

“Hey,” Wayne reaches out, bracing a hand on Eddie’s knee that’s bouncing frantically, “You’ve got this, boy. You can do this. She’ll love you.”

The word love has Eddie’s cheeks flaring the color of it, a deep red that Wayne sees most often on valentine’s day cards. He chuckles once more at his nephew’s crush, shaking his head and getting back to sorting through clutter.

By the time Eddie’s watch beeps, a tinny, mechanical sound that has him leaping onto his feet to rush for the door, they’ve gotten his room mostly under control. There’s a pile of dirty laundry stull bulging out of the closet, but that can’t be avoided, as the hamper is broken from a rather unfortunate sledding endeavor a few months back. You’ll just have to live with the sight of yesterday’s t-shirt in the corner, they decide.

“Okay, uh- thanks, Wayne.” Eddie brushes his hands on his pants, already sweaty from nerves, “I’m gonna go pick her up now.”

“Right,” Wayne stands, trash bag in hand with all of Eddie’s discarded food wrappers and beer cans, “Good luck, son.”

The term flares up Eddie’s blush again, but Wayne doesn’t comment on it, offering him a quick hug, a simple pat to the back. It’s all Eddie can handle right now, already a bundle of nerves that he doesn’t want spilling out.

“There’s a $10 on the fridge,” Wayne calls out after Eddie bounds down the steps of the trailer,tugging the rubber band out of his hair and letting it spill over his shoulders, “Use it for pizza!”

“No, no,” Eddie waves his uncle off, plunging his hand into his pocket to retrieve his wallet, “I got it!”

“Eddie,” Wayne glares at the stubborn boy, “Use the money on the fridge.”

Eddie balks at the aggressively kind gesture, but a wry smile curves over his lips, “Whatever. I’ll just sneak cash into your jacket while you’re asleep.”

“You will not,” Wayne huffs, but Eddie’s already taken off for his van, slamming the door behind him with a hearty laugh at his uncle’s grouchiness.

When Eddie pulls up to your house, having checked the little slip of paper buried in his pocket, oh, around a thousand times, one of the upstairs lights is on. It’s the only one on, the rest of the windows pitch black, and Eddie worries that maybe something is wrong. Your house looks near abandoned, but at the rough chugchugchugging of his engine, a downstairs light flicks on. He catches your silhouette thumping down the stairs and sees the outline of a skirt over your hips. His stomach flips and he shuts off the van, hurrying out so that he can beat you to the door. It seems gentlemanly, something he’s never been too concerned about, but it feels right in the moment.

He’s inches from the door as you wrench it open, a fist raised to knock while you step out of it, not expecting him there on the other side. Your eyes widen but you can’t stop your momentum, stumbling clumsily into his chest despite your efforts to slow down.

“Oh!”

“Eddie!” You speak in unison, your voices mingling just as your limbs do. His arms wind around your waist, laying over his hellfire shirt that you’ve tucked into the waistband of your skirt. The material is soft under his touch, but not as soft as your face, which hits his shoulder in your scuffle. Eddie feels a burst of warmth flood through him at the skin-on-skin contact, and holds you steady as you right yourself against his chest. Your hands brace themselves frantically on his stomach, your chest heaving as you gape at him, “I’m so sorry! I- I wasn’t paying attention, I just heard you coming, and- and,”

“If you were that excited to see me,” Eddie doesn’t know how he’s being as suave as he is, because his heart is practically hammering through his ribcage to affix itself to you like a lovesick leech, “You could have asked me to come earlier.”

You feel your cheeks flare with heat as you slump forwards, the crown of your head hitting Eddie’s clothed chest, “Stoooop.”

Eddie chuckles, adjusting the pitch of his voice to your own, “Stoooop.”

“You’re mocking me!” You shove at him lightly, making him stumble a step backwards, “You’re the worst.”

“Hey,” Eddie finally lets you go, his skin instantly cold where it had once touched yours, “You gotta be nice to me. I’m teaching you DnD, remember?”

“Fine,” You huff dramatically, “You get a pass, but only for tonight!”

“Deal.” Eddie’s eyes gleam with mischief, “Ready?”

“Ready.” You confirm, bouncing excitedly on the balls of your feet.

“Van’s there,” Eddie gestures to his van, nearly tripping over his own feet when you grab his hand, eagerly tugging him along, “Woah!”

“I told you I was ready.” You gush, the words coming out in a soft giggle that makes his heart burst.

You look out of place in his van, too heavenly to be wriggling comfortably into his worn seats. There’s a half-drunk water bottle by your feet that crunches beneath your shoe, and you apologize hurriedly for crushing it.

“‘S okay sweetheart,” Eddie snickers, reaching down to pluck it out from under your feet, “It’s, like, months old.”

“Eddie,” You chide, “It’s probably growing something!”

“It’s fine,” He urges, snickering at your horror, “It’ll put some hair on your chest.”

He leaves you with that, shutting the door to your side of the car and jogging around to the driver’s side door. He wrenches it open, his hair bouncing against his chest as he sits down with a flounce. The radio that he has is already preloaded with the cassette tape he uses whenever he drives Wayne anywhere, his favorite metal artists and their less-overwhelming songs. Wayne always says heavy metal ‘makes his ears bleed’, he’s more into classic rock, but Eddie will be damned if he isn't listening to Mötley Crüe on any drive longer than two minutes. He figures that he’ll be courteous to you at first, just in case metal isn’t your thing either.

To his surprise, a minute into Merry Go Round, your brow dips in concentration.

“Mötley Crüe, right?”

Eddie swears he nearly passes out. His usual response to surprising information, a dramatic flailing of his limbs, doesn’t seem very safe just now, and you’re lucky he doesn’t jerk the wheel to the side.

“Yeah,” He grins dazedly, “You listen?”

“Sometimes!” You pick at a loose thread on your skirt, “I’m into a bit of everything. Really jus’ whatever comes on the radio.”

Eddie suddenly likes you more, if possible. Everything new that he learns about you only adds to the little list of Reasons he Cares, the first and most important being that you’re kind to him. He would never admit it, but he’s like a little lost puppy, trailing after the first person to scratch behind his ears.

“I like your van.” You muse, and it’s so genuinely sweet it nearly makes Eddie scream. You brush your fingers over a Black Sabbath sticker that’s peeling off of the dash, reaffixing the dusty backing to the smooth plastic. It doesn’t stay, it pops right back up again, but you’re onto the next detail now, a pair of old sneakers in the door, autographed by the patrons that watch him perform with his band.

“These are cool,” You marvel at the sloppy, mostly-drunken signatures scrawled over the canvas, “Who are they?”

“Our fans,” Eddie boasts proudly, even though he’s sure seven hammered 40 year olds aren’t the most impressive thing in the world when it comes to an audience, “They watch us perform, remember my band I told you about?”

Eddie watches your eyes light up from the rear-view mirror, but you’re lucky he doesn’t take his eyes off the road completely to see them unfiltered.

“That’s right!” You remember your earlier conversation, “That’s so cool, Eddie, you’ve got fans!”

“We do,” He chuckles, fingers sweating against the steering wheel as you near his trailer, “You should come to one of our shows sometime.”

“If I do, do I get to sign the sneakers?” You’re far too excited to put your name on a pair of ratty old shoes, repurposed as a trophy, but Eddie would be willing to buy a new pair just so that your name can be the only one on the fabric. He thinks about that, about having your name displayed over him, and blushes. He hopes you don’t catch it.

“Of course you can,” Eddie promises, turning much more carefully than he normally does into his typical parking spot, the van sputtering to a stop when he removes the key. He turns to you before you open the door, “How about this saturday?”

“Next,” You compromise, “My parents get back Saturday night and I can’t be out without them knowing.”

“Your parents are gone?” Eddie cocks his head to the side, crimped hair bouncing as he does.

“They’re getting the last of our stuff from our old house,” You nod solemnly, “We don’t even have mattresses here yet.”

“No shit? What have you been sleeping on?”

“The couch,” You recount sadly, “It’s not very comfortable, but it’s better than the floor.”

“Damn,” Eddie sympathizes, yanking on the latch of his door and hopping down, “Well, babe, I’ve got a mattress inside, if you’re interested in staying the night.”

It’s bold, brazen, uncouth, but he tops it off with a teasing grin, so it’s okay. You can’t help the giggle that escapes you, happy that it mostly filled the empty van as he slams his door, rounding the front to open your own for you.

“Very gentlemanly,” You praise him, slipping your hand into his to step down from the lifted van, “I’m impressed.”

“Well don’t get used to it,” He teases, squeezing you against his side with a hand that drifts suspiciously low, “I’m not usually this nice.”

“I must be special.” You concur, giddiness in your grin that sends Eddie’s stomach into a cartwheel.

You are, Eddie nods once at you, afraid to voice his thoughts in case they somehow ruin the unspoken adoration between you, More than you know.

Eddie’s pleased to find nothing but a slight oil stain in Wayne’s usual parking spot, his uncle having predicted that Eddie would want alone time with you. He’s half expecting to find a box of condoms on the kitchen counter when he walks in with you, but flicking on the light of the trailer reveals only a spotless living space, junk shoved in drawers to be dealt with later.

“I like it.” You decide with a curt nod, eyes landing on the array of DnD paraphernalia stacked on the couch, “Oh, I almost forgot! I brought you this.”

You reach into the waistband of your skirt, the slim paperback book you were reading earlier neatly molded to your side. It doesn’t retain the curve of your side, flattening back out into its shape as you hold it out to Eddie.

You swear you catch his eyes wandering towards the spot that you’d just pulled the book from, but they snap up to meet your own before you can verify it. He takes the book from you with an eager grin, “Thanks, sweetheart.”

“Y’wanna swap?” You stride over to the couch, plucking a book titled Players Handbook: Compiled Information for Players and Dungeon Masters out of the pile.

Eddie falters slightly, surprised that you’re so eager to get into what might be the least exciting part of learning DnD: the rules.

“Sure,” He nods carefully, taken aback, “Lemme just clear the couch.”

He bends over to do so, and you can’t help that your eyes trace the newly-exposed skin of his chest. The shirt he’s wearing already reveals his side, but as his arms stretch to grab boxes and papers off of the cushions in front of you, it shifts to show his stomach.

You don’t realize you’re staring until he stops in front of you, an eyebrow raised that you don’t catch because you’re ogling him.

“Everything okay?” To your horror, there’s a twinge of amusement in his voice, and you’re certain he’s caught you.

“Yes!” You scramble to act casual, thumbing past the cover of the book to appear busy, “Yes, let’s get started.”

Eddie sits before you do, surveying you with that same cocky gaze. It makes you nervous, your stomach churning slightly, and you perch on the end of the couch that he’s not spread out over.

He lets out a scoff, reaching out, “You can get comfortable, Y/N, I don’t bite.”

He does, however, grab, which you find out when he yanks your legs out from under you, tugging them outwards so that they rest over his lap. He’s reclined against both the arm of the couch and the back cushion of it, looking far too composed for the rampage of butterflies against his stomach.

You melt into your new position so naturally that it scares you. It feels right, cracking the spine of the handbook while your legs are draped casually over Eddie’s lap. Stretching out and getting comfortable on Eddie’s couch seems just as casual as it does on your couch, and you can’t help the dizzy grin that spreads over your face as you realize this.

“Somethin’ funny?” Eddie’s brow quirks at your expression, and you bury it behind the book, shaking your head.

“Right,” He sets a hand over your ankles, locking your legs into their position on his lap, “Lemme know if you’re confused, babe, I’m here to help.”

Though the DnD handbook is informative, and slightly exhilarating to peruse, you hope that the actual gameplay is less complicated than it sounds. You’re barely twenty pages in, a good 40 minutes gone by, and you’re not sure you can keep all of the information straight in your head. Hopefully Eddie cuts you some slack, or else you might seriously slow down their game.

"Page?" Eddie glances up from the pages of your novel, peering over at the handbook in your grip.

You look to the corner of the page from where you'd been reading up on character classes, "23."

"The Fighter." He speaks in a low voice, raspy and dramatic. You giggle, half amused by his theatrics and half impressed that he's managed to memorize the 130-page handbook in front of you.

"What about you?" You glance pointedly at the book in his hands, shifting your feet in his lap slightly. You don't realize it, but they press against a rather sensitive spot, and Eddie hunches slightly, his stomach caving in as he tries remaining composed.

"Uh," His eyes frantically skim the page, wide and panicked until they lock on a familiar name, "Weylin- Weylin is just, uh, crossing over the Bridge of Lost Souls."

"Ooh," You wriggle slightly in your place on the couch, consequently burrowing your feet further into Eddie's lap, "I love that part! You meet Ionia soon, you'll love her!"

He can’t take it anymore.

“Uh,” He shoots off of the couch, lowering your feet carefully back down to the cushions where he was sitting, “I’m getting kinda hungry. Pizza time?”

“Pizza time.” You nod jovially, flipping a page in the handbook, seemingly unconscious of Eddie’s predicament, “Pepperoni?”

“And sausage.” Eddie nods, “Be right back.”

When he comes back, tugging a crumpled bill out of his pocket to use for the food and pointedly avoiding his uncle’s money, you tuck your legs up under you to set him sit down. He peers over the top of the handbook, eyes drifting to the words appearing upside-down in front of his face.

His nose hooks over the tops of the pages, and you can’t help it: you giggle. He glances up amusedly at you, his own sweet laugh filling the air as he crumples into your lap. You raise the book over your head so that he doesn’t have to slip under it, and his eyes meet yours from where he lays on your legs.

You stare down at him, entranced by his features. His soft cheeks, his sloped nose, the tinge of red that spreads over his skin. His eyes, shiny and smooth, like melted chocolate that you can taste on your tongue. You brush a hand over his forehead, gathering up loose flyaway hairs that have gathered there. They’re malleable and wiry in your grip, and you twirl them around your finger once, twice, thrice, until they form a spiraled curl.

His eyes follow your finger, doe-like as they cross to track your movement. When you let the hair go it springs off of your finger, bouncing down to rest over his nose, and his eyes dart inwards to follow it.

Apparently it tickles his nose, because he scrunches it up, miniscule wrinkles etched like waterways on a map into his skin. You smooth the terrain, running the soft pad of your finger down the bridge of his nose and marveling how his face relaxes as your touch waves over it.

He shivers slightly under your finger, and you notice a bridge of freckles, the lightest you’ve ever seen, dotting his nose. They stand strong over all of the rivers you have yet to flatten, stretching down towards his mouth in beautiful smile lines.

“You’re pretty.” You muse, your voice barely more than a whisper as you trace his features. He lets his eyes flutter shut when your fingers brush under them, his lashes tickling your skin.

“Thanks, sweetheart.” He coos, the softness of his voice gaping that growing sinkhole of adoration that’s been tugging at your chest ever since you met him. His pretty face, his sweet words, his kind actions, all of them mark him as safe, as good, as loveable.

With his eyes closed, you’re allowed to be as obvious as you want when ogling him, not that you were very subtle before. Your eyes latch onto his lips in a similar fashion as you want your own to do, roving over every crease, mark, and indent in the soft, pillowy muscles.

Before you can think about it, you touch them. Your fingers, their pads soft and hesitant, prod gently at his lips. That has his eyes shooting open, carmeled brown irises meeting yours in shock.

Though you feel his gaze on you, you don’t stop. You let your hands linger on his face, soaking up every second of dazzlingly intimate contact you can get with the man. He studies your face while you study his, the both of you barely breathing while watching the other sit pretty. You swear you feel Eddie’s lips shift under your fingers, puckering ever-so-slightly to kiss the tips of your fingers, but then-

The hollow, sharp knock on the door of Eddie’s trailer shatters the intimacy of the moment, plunging you back into reality from the serene haze you’d been trapped in. You both fall from the clouds you’d lounged atop, plummeting back to earth with the thump of your hearts in your chests.

“I’ll get it,” Eddie scrambles up from where he’s draped over your lap, rushing to the door and snatching the cash off of the counter. You straighten yourself out while he grabs the pizza, cheeks aflame as you look around the room to avoid looking at him. You see a stack of vhs movies in the corner by the television set, and your eyes catch a familiar title.

Labyrinth.

“Okay,” Eddie sets the pizza on the counter, grateful for the paper plates the place provided you, “One slice or two?”

“Two,” You grin eagerly, reaching for the tape, “Are you the reason this was missing from the video store yesterday?”

He laughs at the sight of the VHS in your hands, “Yep, ‘had it since it came out.”

“Rude,” You scoff, “I wanted to watch it last night!”

“Bummer,” Eddie scrunches his brows, faux-sympathy written on his face, “‘Guess you’ll just have to come over whenever you wanna watch it.”

“Well I’m here now…” You push, clutching the case hopefully.

“Pop it in,” Eddie laughs, gesturing towards the machine, “‘Should be rewound already.”

You kneel by the VHS player while Eddie brings your plates over, and your back faces him. It gives him the perfect opportunity to ogle you, only feeling slightly guilty when his eyes trace the curve of your ass.

You turn before he can admire how the Hellfire shirt exposes the angles of your shoulders, abandoning its post and leaving your neck bare. He watches the skin there shift, muscles beneath the surface tensing as you crane it downwards to slide the tape into the receiver.

“We’ll work more on DnD later,” Eddie promises as the main titles roll, music filling the otherwise silent trailer, “We’ve still gotta get a character figured out for you.”

“‘M excited,” You speak through a mouthful of greasy pizza, pepperoni sticking to your lip, “Thanks for the pizza, Eddie.”

“‘Course sweetheart,” He grins at you, then hides his blush in the red tomato sauce on his bread.

Eddie truly believes that you’ll go over more later for the game. But when you finish both slices of your pizza, hands covering your stomach tenderly as he’s sure it’s stuffed, and curl up against the arm of the couch, he knows nothing else is getting done tonight. Your eyes are glued to the screen, Sarah’s dress glittering as her hair flounces with every movement of the couple. He’s never been a Bowie fan, but he reckons you are by the way your eyes shine whenever he’s on screen.

He’s jealous of David Bowie.

Oh, fuck, he never thought he’d sink this low. But he feels something unfamiliar and sharp prod at his chest whenever you pay just a little too much attention to the man on screen, and he prods at your feet with his own.

“Hoggin’ the couch,” He chides you, with no real scorn as he tangles his legs with yours, “Stretched out like you own the place.”

“Sor-ry,” You huff dramatically, clocking his teasing grin and knowing he’s just messing around, “It’s not my fault your couch is comfier than mine.”

Eddie remembers your admission, that you’ve been sleeping on your couch for god-knows-how-long, and his stomach sours. He studies your face, the way that your eyelids droop even though you’re clearly enjoying the movie, the wrinkling of your chin as you yawn. You’re clearly exhausted, and his space is the comfort you need.

He feels something akin to pride at that. You not only feel comfortable enough around him to curl up on his couch, but you feel comfortable enough to fall asleep. He might be new at this, the whole relationship thing, but he knows that’s big.

Suddenly he doesn’t feel such a large blade of jealousy stabbing at his heart anymore, because you’re not cuddled up to David Bowie on David Bowie’s couch, are you? No. You’re curled up with him, on his couch.

Take that, Bowie.

It’s around the one-and-a-half hour mark, only ten minutes before the movie ends, that he realizes he’s the only one watching. He’s been glancing back and forth between the screen and you for ages now, but when he checks up on you this time, you’re asleep. He can see your chest rising and falling, his shirt still worn proudly over your frame, and a sleepy smile curves over his face. Your lashes kiss your cheeks, casting shadows down your face that look like spiderwebs. It looks cool, and he makes a mental note to ask you if you’d let him put eyeliner on you to see if he can turn it into a spiderweb. It’s a design he’s been meaning to do on himself, but if he needs a model, why would you turn him down?

The end of the movie isn’t so entrancing to him anymore now that you’re snoozing, and once more he lets his eyes drift over your frame. Your skirt is tucked neatly under your bum, but your thighs peek out of it, soft and plumped by the way you’re laying. Then his eyes rove over your shirt, the familiar, hand-crafted design looking better on you than it ever has on him or his friends. It’s odd, seeing the shirt on anyone but the boys in his friend group, but he quickly decides that it’s his favorite outfit of yours, and that nothing in the world could top it.

The end credits announce themselves in an encore of the film’s soundtrack, and Eddie reluctantly parts from the cozy embrace you’ve found yourself in. He ejects the tape, stuffing it back into its case and tucking it carefully back onto the stack. Now that he knows it’s his ticket to time spent with you, he’s much more reluctant to take it back to Family Video tomorrow like he’d planned. Maybe he’ll keep it, late fee be damned.

“Y/N,” He hates the thought of waking you, but he hates the thought of inconveniencing his uncle even more, and you’re curled up on what will become Wayne’s pull-out.

“Y/N,” He tries again, soft and soothing as he taps your shoulder gently, “Wake up, we’ve gotta get you home.”

The clock only reads 10:23, but he’d feel guilty getting you home at an indecent hour. Typically, Eddie’s philosophy is etiquette be damned, but he has a feeling you wouldn’t be too happy about being dumped on your front porch after two in the morning.

“Y/N,” He slips a hand under your torso, his other sliding under your legs, “C’mon, wake up.”

You don’t. You must have really had trouble sleeping on your couch, because now that you’re dozing off, you don’t seem to wake up easily. Worry gnaws at Eddie’s chest as he hoists you into his arms and you don’t wake, only sighing contentedly and curling closer to him.

His eyes widen and his cheeks burn as you snuggle up to him unconsciously, your cheek pressed against his KISS-clad chest. Your nose nudges into his neck and he swears he sees stars, his knees weakening at the intimate contact like you hadn’t just been touching his lips hours beforehand.

“‘Gonna be the death of me,” He mutters, voice devoid of any real anger as he trudges down the hall to his room. His bed is neatly made, pillows stacked at the head that he reaches up and kicks down with one of his socked feet. It flops flat onto the mattress with a thump, and Eddie lowers you as carefully as humanly possible onto the bed. You aren’t too keen to let go, though, because your arms stay tightly wound around his neck. He tries straightening but you come right back up with him, brows scrunching in displeasure at being jostled around.

“Sweetheart,” Eddie laughs, lovestruck, “‘Gotta let go.”

“Eddie,” You mumble hazily, sound far too much like a lover he’s just accidentally jostled by getting out of bed to get ready for work in the morning, “Don’ go.”

“I can’t leave you here,” He reasons, returning your favor and smoothing out the wrinkle in your brows with his thumb, “I’ve gotta grab my keys and shoes, then we’ll take you home.”

“Nooo,” You whine, sleep tugging at your voice, “‘S too cozy here. I don’t wanna leave.”

“But no one knows you’re staying here,” Eddie’s afraid that your parents might come home early, discover their child missing, and storm his trailer with pitchforks, “Don’t you wanna head back home to your own bed?”

"Couch.” You mumble grouchily, “My parents aren't home," Your voice is groggy and weak, but Eddie swears it's more angelic than any hymn he's ever heard, "'S okay."

"Are you sure?" He reaches up, smooths a hand over your forehead then down your cheek without thinking, but before he can panic over the intimate gesture you're leaning into it, letting out a contented hum that quite reminds him of a kitten's purr.

"'M sure," You promise, already curling up cozily beneath his blanket, looking far too natural and perfect in a space you'd never occupied before, and Eddie feared, never would again.

"Okay." He's breathless and weak as your eyes drift shut, his hand lingering against the curve of your face, "G'night sweetheart."

He isn’t sure what to do from there. He could move his hand, he probably should move his hand, so that he doesn’t stand there for hours holding you, but that seems all the more tempting with every passing second. He marvels at his luck, how he’s managed to get to heaven without dying. Unless he is dead. But he’s almost certain he’ll be sent to hell for the sheer amount of drugs he’s sold to high school students, so he’s sure it isn’t that.

You must be an angel, he decides, one that isn’t afraid of the devil everyone says he is. He gets a brief vision of matching halloween costumes to that effect, a wiry halo perched on your head while devil ears adorn his. The scene’s unfiltered domesticity stuns him, along with how perfect it feels. It doesn’t feel awkward or forced, instead like something you’d come up with on the phone at ungodly hours and commit to months before the holiday.

He’ll bring the idea up to you tomorrow.

For now, he has to figure out where he’s sleeping. He’s not taking Wayne’s bed, but you’re in his, and that would be wrong.

Right?

Eddie studies the way your body is laid out on his mattress, knees tucked towards your chest and arms bundled up below your face, clutching the blanket he’d thrown over you. You take up a fraction of the mattress, the side that he normally sleeps on still unobscured.

Would it really be that bad if he laid opposite you? He wouldn’t touch you, he wouldn’t throw an arm over your waist, he wouldn’t tangle his legs with yours, he wouldn’t press a soft kiss to your forehead before drifting off. He wouldn’t.

He wants to, though.

He gives into another temptation, hopefully his last for the night, and lets himself indulge in your presence. He slides onto the end of the mattress, careful not to disrupt you as you slumber.

It feels weird, having someone in his bed beside him. Weird, but good. He decides, in fact, that there’s no better feeling aside from your fingers on his lips, than you in bed beside him. He stares up at the ceiling, willing the urge to kiss your nose away before he can screw up the best thing that’s happened to him in years.

One single, cautious glance thrown your way, and it’s all over.

Your hand is bared towards him, the smooth skin on the back of it in perfect kissing-range. He would be an idiot not to, right? That’s what gentlemen do, after all, they kiss the back of their lady’s hand. Typically not without her knowledge, or while she’s in bed with him, but it’s the principle of it, not the specific scenario.

He reaches for your hand hesitantly, and once his skin brushes yours he sees fireworks that light up the dark room. They nearly short out his vision, and when he sees clearly again, your hand is poised directly in front of his lips, his own hand still clutching it securely.

“Sleep good, sweetheart.” He whispers, near-inaudible in the darkness, then his lips press delicately against your hand.

Such unimaginable warmth and giddiness fill his chest, that he’s sure he’ll explode. There’s going to be Eddie Guts on the walls and ceiling, rotted sickly sweet from how infatuated with you he’s become in such a short time. Kissing you, albeit only your hand, feels like something he wants to do for the rest of his life, and he can only hope you’re gracious enough to grant him that privilege.

That’s a discussion for the morning, though, or never, Eddie reminds himself. He’s just kissed your hand in the middle of the night while you’re sleeping like a creep, he might not be too eager to admit that to you in the morning in a desperate plea to do it again. He refrains from peppering the rest of your skin in adoring kisses, but keeps your hand clutched in his own, marveling at the way that you can warm him up completely from a single touch.

It must be an angel thing, he decides, as he drifts off into a happy slumber, tomorrow he’ll ask you if it hurt when you fell from heaven.

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

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lustfulslxt · 6 months

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Okay could I request a Matt X Chris’s bsf! Reader. Like Chris knows his bestie has it BAD for his brother and he tries to set them up

Divulgence- Matt Sturniolo

warnings : idk, corny dad jokes that i legit died laughing over lmaoo

—

“What did the blanket say as it fell off the bed?” Chris asks, hardly able to hold in his giggles. “Oh sheet!”

Matt and I simultaneously burst into laughter, dramatically falling into one another as we struggle to catch our breaths. Chris starts rolling on the floor, his screams sounding throughout the house as he flails his limbs.

“What do you call a man with a rubber toe?” Matt asks, a goofy grin spread over his lips. “Roberto.”

I can’t help but repeatedly hit the couch as my laughter starts up again, completely amused at their corny jokes. Chris is back up for just a second, grabbing onto Matt’s shoulders before falling back to the ground, his face bright red due to the amount of laughter constricting his breath. After a few more minutes of silly giggles, both boys look at me expectantly.

I pause, thinking for a second, before I start snickering to myself. “What happens when you slap Dwayne Johnson on the butt? You hit rock bottom.”

Once again, the three of us are doubling over, unable to contain the joyous sounds coming from our mouths. Tears streaming down our faces, all of us feeling hot with the excessive laughter.

“Wait! Wait!” Matt shouts, attempting to catch his breath before continuing, “Why should you never fight a dinosaur?”

Me and Chris share a look with smiles on our faces, anticipating the punchline.

“Because you’ll get jurasskicked!” Matt exclaims, his voice booming as he starts howling.

Chris and I lose it, our screams echoing around the living room. My body shakes with giggles pouring out of me, left and right. I fall onto Matt’s lap, my head landing on his thighs, slowly calming down. I haven’t laughed this hard in a while, my breath is still erratic. His hands find their way into my hair, brushing it out of my face and wiping the tears from my cheeks. I make eye contact with Chris, who smirks at me as my face flushes pink.

Matt’s left arms falls over my side, his right hand still running through my hair, sending shivers down my body. Chris watches us, his smirk growing wider before sending me a quick wink, causing my cheeks to burn brighter. I turn my head to look up at Matt and realize he’s already looking at me. After he notices he’s been caught staring at me, he awkwardly looks away, a faint blush fanning his face.

“Hey, Y/N. Follow me real quick, I’ve got something to show you.” Chris calls out, beckoning me to follow him as he walks off in the direction of his room.

I give Matt a smile, patting his leg, standing up from him and following Chris. Upon walking into his room, he shuts the door and turns to me with a devilish grin on his face.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” I ask, a small smile on my lips as I furrow my eyebrows in confusion.

“When are you going to tell him?” He asks.

My smile fades, a frown taking its place. “Why are you so insistent on me telling him?”

“Because you’re completely head over heels for him.” Chris points out

“That’s beside the point.” I mutter, dismissively.

“Y/N, I love you. You’re my best friend, but be so fucking for real.” He stares at me, his face giving off that he’s fed up.

“What?!” I exclaim, falling back on his bed.

“If you don’t tell him, I will.” He crosses his arms.

I shoot back up, immediately glaring at him, “You wouldn’t!”

He gives me a look and makes a move for his door, prompting me to sprint over to him, jumping on his back.

“Christoper Owen, stop it right now!” I shout, attempting and failing to get him to stop.

He ignores me, walking out of his room and up the stairs, me still on his back. He rounds the corner, entering the kitchen and heading straight for the living room that Matt still resides in.

“Seriously, kid. Knock it the fuck off.” I groan, hitting his back, though it was no use as he’s intent on getting me to spill my feelings for his brother.

Hearing my voice, Matt turns his head and widens his eyes at us, not expecting to see me yanking back on Chris, despite my futile attempts to do literally anything. Chris shakes me off his back, effortlessly, then turns to Matt.

“Follow me real quick, I want to show you something.” Chris says to him, just as he did to me five minutes ago.

I roll my eyes, “Chris, I swear to God.”

He holds his hand out to me, silently telling me to shut up, before waving his hand to Matt, ushering him back in the direction of his room. Matt, obviously confused, obliges anyways and heads downstairs with Chris in suit.

I sit back on the couch, anxiety building in my stomach, my nerves shot. I can’t help the slight tremble in my hands and the bouncing of my foot as I think of the worst.

Chris is my best friend, we’ve been friends for four years, and I’ve probably been in love with Matt for half that time. I never planned on telling him, as I was sure my feelings weren’t reciprocated. I cherished Matt and I’s friendship, and I didn’t want to jeopardize the dynamic. Sure, I, so badly, wanted to be with him and it hurt knowing that everything between us would only ever be platonic, but I’d rather have him as a friend than nothing at all.

Matt has always been so great to me. He’s so kind and loving, incredibly thoughtful, and we just click. I couldn’t help but fall for him and his pretty face, and I feel like an idiot for it. I can’t wrap my head around why I would let myself fall for him when it’s not necessarily the best of circumstances.

I don’t think Chris would intentionally fuck things up between us, but me not knowing what was being said between the two made me feel sick to my stomach. I‘ve always been an anxious person, but especially at times like this. My nerves are racked, and I can’t help the pit of anxiety and anticipation brewing in my stomach.

Before I can continue to dwell on my thoughts, Matt rounds the corner and makes his way to the couch opposite of me. He doesn’t say a word and doesn’t even spare me a glance. With a frown, I look back to the direction he came from, waiting for Chris to emerge, but he doesn’t. It hits me very clearly, as I now realize that Chris divulged my secret with him.

I can’t help the downward turn of my lips, my frown becoming more prominent. I can practically see the new awkwardness and tension that will be riddled throughout our friendship, making things slowly fall apart. I let out a loud breath, closing my eyes, and sighing as I throw my head back against the back of the couch. It feels like there’s a new weight on my shoulder, and I have no idea how to release it.

Suddenly, the seat next to me dips and I can feel a warm presence beside me. I don’t have to open my eyes to know that it’s Matt, I know his cologne like it’s oxygen. I slowly turn my head towards his direction, then open my eyes, immediately coming face to face with him. He stares at me for a moment, and I can’t read his facial expression, so I get a little nervous.

“Um.” He begins, pausing for a moment, before continuing, “Would you, maybe, want to go out? Like on a date? With me? Like not right now, but sometime? Whenever. If you don’t want to, that’s fine. It doesn’t have to be weird or anything, we can forget this ever happened. Like it’s totally okay, honest. Please say something, so I don’t keep rambling like an idiot.”

I can’t help the soft giggles that left my mouth, amused by his stammering. “I’d love to go on a date with you.”

His eyes widen and his mouth forms into an ‘o’ shape, “Like a date date?”

My smile grows, “Yes, Matt, a date date.”

“Wow. Nice.” He smiles back, letting out a breath. “I can’t lie, I was a bit worried you’d say no. Actually, a lot worried. Chris had to convince me to even say anything.”

“Is that what that was about?” I question, furrowing my eyebrows as I motion downstairs to Chris’ room.

He nods, “Yeah, he was basically telling me I need to stop being a pussy and just tell you how I feel.”

“Hmm. He led me to believe he was telling you about my feelings for you. I was straight up dying in here, like ready to throw up everything I’ve digested in the last 24 hours.” I admit.

He lets out a chuckle and scoots closer, placing his arm around me on the back of the couch. “So, how about you tell me about your feelings for me.”

A loud laugh escapes my mouth as I push his face away, him laughing in return as I say, “Maybe on this date you speak of.”

“Fair enough.” He shrugs, pulling me back into him.

He leans his head on my shoulder for a moment before turning it to look at me. When I turn my head in his direction, I notice our faces are only inches apart, causing me to slightly gasp. I can see his eyes flicker from mine to my lips and back, I knew what he wanted.

“Would you be upset if I asked to kiss you?” He whispers, his warm breath fanning my face.

My tongue runs over my lips, subconsciously wetting them as I shake my head from side to side, watching him watch my every move. He slowly inches closer, before his soft pink lips meet mine for the first time. It was a gentle kiss, only lasting a few seconds, before he pulled away to look at me. After taking in my reaction, he comes back in, pressing his mouth to mine. This one, being slower and longer, more passionate. After a minute, I pull back with a smile on my face as I took a deep breath.

“Give me like two minutes, and I’ll be right back.” I state, before taking off towards Chris’ room.

I quickly make my way down the stairs, and swiftly enter his room. Noticing he’s chilling on his bed, I run over to him and engulf him in a big hug. He’s surprised, but returns it nevertheless.

“You good?” He asks in a chuckle.

“Yes. I just wanna say you’re a great best friend and I love you so much. Thanks for keeping my secret, and I’m sorry I doubted you for a moment. And thanks for talking some sense into this kid.”

“Of course, I’d do anything for you.” He smiles, rubbing my back. “Now go back up there and spend some much deserved time with him. Love you, kid.”

With a giggle, I run back upstairs, leaving Chris to continue playing games on his phone. Once I make it in the kitchen, I stop for a moment and stare at Matt. He’s so pretty, I truly love everything about him. His eyes meet mine, a smile instantly pulling to his face. He nods his head at me, beckoning me to come join him once again. So I do.

“Hi.” I smile brightly at him, laying down on the sofa with my head in his lap, like earlier in the night.

“Hi.” He smiles back at me, running his hand through my hair as his other arm goes around me, pulling me closer into him.

“So, about that date.” I say, bringing my lips into my mouth to keep myself from cheesing embarrassingly hard.

The laugh he lets out ruins my attempt, as I can’t help but stare in awe at him. He’s truly everything, and I can’t be more happy that I get to indulge in that now.

—

a/n : ugh here you go! sorry i feel like this request was forever ago. it is a bit rushed, but only bc i had it all damn near finished and it didn’t save, so i lost basically the whole thing. i’ll do better next time, enjoy. send in reqs! xx

#lustfulslxt #joss speaks #sturniolo triplets #sturniolos #the sturniolos #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #imagine #christopher sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo x me #matthew sturniolo x you #matthew sturniolo x reader #christopher sturniolo x you #besties #friends to lovers #request #fluff

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nahoney22 · 24 days

Note

Hey bestie! I love your work and as I've gotten to know you better, you've been an amazing friend ❤️

I was wondering if you could do some hurt/comfort/whump with f!reader x Tech! Maybe they have crash landed or been captured together or something. Perhaps they don't necessarily get along with each other but this situation forces them to work together and they discover that maybe the other isn't so bad. ❤️ Thanks!

Crash Landed 🌊

🫧 Pairing: Tech X Female Reader

word count: 5.9k

Prompts: none

Summary: After you and Tech crash land in a remote Jungle, the two of you need to put your heads together and work as a team. Which is sometimes easier said than done.

warnings: Hurt, Angst and Comfort Whump Trope, Mentions of Injury to Reader and Tech, reader has a fear of blood, Kinda Enemies to Lovers, Reconciliation, Talks about Feelings, Huddling for Warmth, Heated First Kiss, Female Reader. Not proofread.

authors note: I love this idea! I hope I did it justice. And by the word count, clearly I enjoyed writing it. Thanks for being and amazing friend @arctrooper69 🩶

You awaken, dazed and confused, your head heavy as your eyes adjust to the dim, smoke-filled surroundings. What's that smell? Is that... smoke? What happened?

Your body aches with every movement as you manage to sit up with a hefty groan, feeling the weight of gravity pull at your limbs. Rubbing your eyes with your hands to focus, you realise that everything is on its side, the walls of the shuttle caved in, sparks flying from broken control panels. What a mess. But, you're sure you were not alone before this happened.

“Tech?” you call out, your voice croaky before you start coughing, as if your lungs had filled up with smoke.

No reply. “Please don’t be dead, please don’t be dead,” you mutter to yourself as panic sets in, the memories flooding back. The mission, the Imperial's, crashing. Yes, that’s it. You crash-landed. But where? And where was Tech?

Luckily, your thoughts are answered as a torch shines in the distance, followed by loud clattering as if objects were being moved. You squint through the smoke, trying to ignore the acrid scent of burning metal. “Ah, there you are,” Tech says as he comes into view, his armor scratched, and his goggles a little skewed on his head.

“What happened?” you ask as he approaches you, another spluttering cough escaping your lips.

“If you take a look around, it will become apparent that we have crashed,” he replies. Ah yes, still a pain in the neck even after both of you nearly died.

You and Tech had rarely seen eye to eye. Since you joined the squad months ago, he always seemed to be on top of you, trying to prove you wrong or point out mistakes. It was tiresome. And now, unfortunately, you were stuck with him.

Rolling your eyes, you were in no mood for his tone and began to stand. However, as soon as you did, your leg gave way, your knees slamming to the floor. A cry of pain escaped you, making Tech look up from his cracked datapad, his eyes widening with slight concern. “Are you injured?”

“Obviously,” you grumbled in reply, stretching out your legs to assess the damage, but you didn’t see anything at first. It wasn’t until Tech crouched down in front of you that he spotted it.

“You have a laceration on your calf,” he said, his voice calm but concerned, inspecting the wound closely, and you did a double-take at his words.

“W-What? Is it bad?” You tried to hide the panic in your voice, but if there’s one thing you hated, it was blood.

Tech didn’t reply straight away, his eyes inspecting the wound closely, but your nerves began to eat away at you. “Tech, is it bleeding?” You asked quickly, your chest heaving as the fear started to creep in.

“Yes,” he confirmed, not making eye contact with you before he stood again, “I shall look for a medkit among this rubble. Stay here.” Well, it’s not like you had anywhere to go anytime soon anyway.

You wanted to call out to him, you wanted him to stay with you, but that would be inviting him to babysit you. Just because you were scared didn’t mean you wanted Tech to take care of you, which he probably would not do anyway.

Luckily, he wasn’t gone long and returned with a battered medkit. Some vials were smashed inside, and some tools were of no use, but you were glad that the bandages were untarnished. You had to look away as he started to dress your leg, cutting away the loose fabric to your pants before he skillfully wrapped it up. “That should do for now. Can you stand? We need to get out of here as it wouldn't surprise me if this shuttle imploded at any minute.”

Comfort was not his strong suit, clearly.

“I’ll try,” you began to haul yourself up your feet, but again, you were too weak. “No, no, no, I can’t.” As you were about to fall once again, Tech tucked himself under your arm, a hand steady on your waist as he kept you up.

“I will have to carry you.”

“No!” You squeaked. No way in hell were you going to let him carry you around. No way you wanted to appear more of a burden than you already are.

He raised an eyebrow, unmoved by your objection. “This is not open to debate. You can not put weight on your leg.”

With a frustrated sigh, you relented. “Alright, fine.”

With a wince of pain shooting up your leg, Tech manages to slip his arm around your neck, hoisting you over his shoulder with little effort. Each step he makes sends a jolt of unbearable pain through your leg, but you grit your teeth, holding back any sign of distress, more focused on figuring out how the two of you will get out of this mess.

You escape the shuttle, and the scorching sun immediately washes over you, its heat oppressive and suffocating. The air is humid and sticky. Great.

"So, where are we?" you ask awkwardly, still draped over his shoulder as he trudges onward.

"Uncertain," he replies, which does nothing to ease your nerves.

After a few minutes of walking, he finally sets you down on some dry grass. The sun beats down, forcing you to shield your eyes with your hand as you survey your surroundings. From the looks of it, you’re stranded in a jungle, with a vast expanse of open water stretching out before you. You could be literally anywhere.

“I suggest we find shelter, food, and a water source promptly. Since you are in no state to do anything, this task falls upon me,” he says, not once meeting your gaze as he speaks.

"Are you trying to blame me for hurting my leg? If I'm not mistaken, Tech, you were the one who pushed us into that shuttle," you retort, anger bubbling over.

"I am not blaming you, although if it was not for your mistake on the mission I would not have had to intervene." He trails off, not seeming to care at the dirty looks being sent his way. "I am merely stating facts." He says simply, tucking his datapad into his pouch before glancing down at you.

Deciding to keep your mouth shut for now, you refrain from arguing, knowing it won’t solve anything. Instead, you let Tech take the lead because, as much as you hate to admit it, he's right. You are in no state to do anything at the moment.

Tech leaves you alone for a while, giving you one of his blasters as a precaution before returning around half an hour later, announcing he found a suitable place to set up camp. You simply nod before glancing over at the crashed shuttle. “Is there anything we can salvage from that at least?” you ask aloud, drawing Tech’s attention back to you before casting a glance over at the debris.

“Perhaps. But we will have to be quick-." Before he can finish his thoughts, a sudden explosion rips through the air as the shuttle suddenly erupts into a burst of flames, sending debris flying in all directions. You both watch in shock as the flames engulf the wreckage, leaving nothing salvageable. Never mind.

Once Tech had led you to a secluded spot under the protective canopy of towering trees. With careful movements, you managed to shift your weight onto your knees, the pain radiating from your leg causing you to bite back a wings of pain.

“You are doing it wrong.” As you went ahead and started to make a fire, Tech’s unsolicited advice on fire-building techniques went in one ear and out the other. Survival instincts was one of your specialties after all and so you ignored him as as you gathered dry twigs and leaves, arranging them meticulously into a makeshift pyre.

As Tech continued his lecture on the ‘correct way’ to build a fire, you struck the flint, the spark igniting a blaze that danced and crackled life. A triumphant smirk tugged at the corners of your lips as Tech fell silent, the warmth of the flames casting flickering shadows on the thick backdrop of the jungle.

“As you have accomplished the fire, all we need now is some edible food and water," Tech remarked and you hummed in slight agreement.

Carefully, you leaned back and against a sturdy boulder for support as you turned your attention to Tech, whose fingers deftly navigated his datapad. "Do you think you’ll be able to contact the others?" you inquired softly, wanting to hear good news right now.

Tech's brow furrowed in concentration as he tinkered with the device, the soft glow of the cracked screen illuminating his features in the darkness. "If I can get my device to work properly and salvage the shuttle… then possibly. But…" His voice trailed off, uncertainty lingering in the air.

"You have doubts?" you pressed, concerned lacing your words as you watched him shift uneasily in his spot.

“Yes,” he says as he stands, tucking his datapad away again, “I have my doubts.”

You both fall into silence, something quite rare from Tech as he was always chattering away about something. But for now, he was quiet. Deep in thought. A part of you wished you knew what he was thinking, wondering what was happening in that marvelous mind of his and if he had thought about what would happen if you two were never found which was a reoccurring thought in yours.

“I will be back soon,” he speaks up, breaking the silence after a few minutes.

“Where are you going?” You ask, a little too quickly. But truthfully, you didn’t want to be on your own right now. Yet you didn’t want him to know that.

He watches you almost tentatively before saying, “I need to gather provisions. I will not be long.”

You didn’t protest as you watched him walk away, disappearing through the trees as nightfall approached. Sighing softly to yourself, you sat lost in thought, the flickering flames casting shifting shadows across your face as you think back to all the things you should have done on that mission. Perhaps if you didn’t let your pride get the better of you, you wouldn’t have to sit wondering when Tech will return and if either of you will make it out of here.

You don’t even remember falling asleep last night but you do remember waking up to the chill that had kept you shivering throughout the night despite sleeping by the crackling fire.

As you awaken to the gentle warmth of the morning sun filtering through the dense foliage above, a stark contrast to last night, with a heavy sigh, you sit up. You groan as your body feels more fatigued and worn out than before. Nausea washes over you as you groggily inspect your leg, the sight of the dried and bloodied bandage from the previous day making your stomach churn. Obviously, you'll need to tend to it again.

“Will you need my assistance or are you capable of tending to your own wound today?” Tech's voice cuts through the quiet morning air, his tone as matter-of-fact as ever. It's always hard to discern whether he's being genuinely helpful or simply blunt.

Deciding to handle this task yourself this time, you nod, expressing your intention to manage it alone. And even though you wanted to do it alone, Tech approaches nonetheless, the battered med kit in hand.

With Tech standing by, you cautiously remove the old bandage, your stomach turning at the sight of the open wound. Despite the lack of fresh blood, the dried remnants are enough to make you feel queasy. "You do not like blood," Tech observes, his statement pulling your attention away from the gruesome sight.

"Hm, how could you tell?" you mutter sarcastically, attempting to deflect from the discomfort.

“I have always known,” Tech responds cryptically, his expression giving nothing away as he crouches down beside you.

Curiosity piqued, you inquired further, wondering how he could have possibly known your hatred for blood. After all, you couldn't recall ever mentioning it to him before. “I… have observed your behaviour before and just so happened to pick up on it. I also recall you mentioning it to Hunter when you first joined.”

Hm, that’s… surprising.

You say nothing of it and instead allow him to take care of you. As Tech takes over, gently raising your leg and propping it over his knee, you can't help but notice the care he takes.

Despite his typically relaxed demeanor, there's a hint of concern in his actions as he tells you that you ‘may want to avert your gaze’ as he begins to peel the old bandage away.

Happily, you turn your attention to the leaves above, trying to ignore the stinging sensation spreading through your leg and the tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. Though, the warm breeze brushes against your exposed skin, offering a slight comfort amidst the discomfort.

“H-How does it look?” you ask, your voice strained, the anxiety evident in your tone as you feel Tech's careful movements.

“It appears that you have an infection. And I do not have the right resources to treat it.” Your heart sinks at his words, a sense of dread settling in the pit of your stomach as you try to suppress the rising panic.

“Great.”

“I will assume that is sarcasm,” he hums before passing you his canteen, “I found a water source last night. This has been purified and suitable to drink. I suggest you do that.”

Taking the canteen from his grasp, your mouth suddenly feels dry at the thought of water. You take a sip and can’t help but grimace at the taste, the bitterness lingering on your tongue. “Are you sure it’s been purified?”

“Yes, I did not say it will taste nice.”

You roll your eyes and take another remorseful sip before passing it back to him, your mind inadvertently drifting to the state of your leg. It looked worse than you anticipated.

“Shit.” You curse under your breath as you blink away the tears, the frustration and fear bubbling to the surface. Of course, your leg would get infected. Why would a crash-landing be a stroll in the park?

“I agree with your sentiments.” Tech's voice is steady as he carefully applies a new bandage, his movements precise and calculated. “I suggest you rest.”

“No,” you shake your head adamantly, meeting his gaze with determination, “I’m not going to sit here and do nothing. I have to do something.”

He blinks at you, frowning behind his goggles. “You are in no state to do anything. You are injured and so-.”

“So I’m a hindrance?” You challenge, the frustration evident in your tone as you refuse to back down.

“In a way, yes.” He says directly, the weight of his words hanging in the air as he stands up straight after carefully placing your leg down. “Any further injury could lead to loss of limb. Or worse. We cannot risk getting that leg infected even more. Do you not think you have caused enough grievance?”

Anger bubbles at his words, yet, a part of you knew he was right. You were both in this mess because of you but sitting on the forest floor doing nothing felt like a last resort. “Can you at least just help me stand up?” you grumble, your voice tinged with frustration. “Please?”

He hesitates, seemingly torn between his concern for your well-being and his reluctance to encourage any further strain on your injured leg. However, the dejected look on your face softens his resolve, knowing that he wouldn’t hear the end of it until he complies. Reluctantly, he extends his hand, offering you the support you need to rise to your feet.

Carefully, you put slight pressure on your leg, testing its strength. Surprisingly, it isn’t as painful as it was yesterday, giving you a glimmer of hope that you might be able to move around by limping or hopping for now—especially when Tech isn’t looking.

“Thanks,” you say stiffly, folding your arms over your chest, a mix of gratitude and stubbornness in your demeanor as you watch him pick something out of his pouch and hand it over to you. “What’s this?”

He presents you with a strange-looking leaf, its unfamiliar shape and texture raising your curiosity. “It is food. Edible. It is all I could find last night but will fill us with enough nutrients for now.”

The rest of the day didn’t unfold as smoothly as you both had hoped. While Tech ventured back to the shuttle in a bid to secure a signal to reach the others, you took it upon yourself to be productive. Somehow.

With the terrain familiar to you from extensive research in your past, thoughts of herbal remedies for injuries like the one on your leg flooded your mind. So, after crafting a makeshift walking stick from a discarded branch sturdy enough to support your weight, you set off from camp, determined to gather the necessary ingredients.

Luck seemed to be on your side as you found the correct herbs and plants without much difficulty. However, your return to camp was met with an annoyed-looking Tech, his frustration evident as he started an argument for your sudden departure and for not telling him where you were since comms were dead too; coupled with his ongoing concerns about your leg.

Insisting that you were fine, you proceeded to apply the herbal remedy to your wound, wrapping it back up and allowing nature to take its course. Though Tech couldn’t help but offer snide remarks whenever you winced at the slightest movement, your remedy proved effective in easing the discomfort for a while.

Meanwhile, Tech’s attempts to establish a signal to the others had proved fruitless, only adding to his growing frustration. He was normally very composed under pressure, but his visible agitation was somewhat unsettling, leaving you feeling both concerned and also quite upset to see him this way.

As the sun began to set, casting long shadows across the camp, the atmosphere between you two remained tense. While you rested against the boulder again, Tech sat with his head in his hands, visibly weighed down by the day's events.

An uncharacteristic urge to ease his burden prompted you to speak up. “Why don’t you sleep? Try again tomorrow,” you suggest, breaking the silence and drawing his gaze across the flickering flames of the fire pit.

“One of us needs to stay awake and take watch,” he insists, decided on his decision straight away.

You frown, realising that you slept through most of the previous night, which meant… “Tech, did you not sleep last night?” you ask, your concern evident in your tone.

“No.” He mutters, “Like I said, one of us needs to stay awake.”

Squinting at him, a hint of annoyance creeps into your voice. “That’s not healthy, especially when we’re stuck like this. You need to sleep or something.”

“I am used to not getting sleep on the Marauder so I do not see why this is any different,” he counters, his stance firm.

Though grateful for his commitment to keeping watch, you can’t help but feel exasperated by his stubbornness. Rolling your eyes, you wrap your arms around yourself as a chill sets in. “To be fair,” you begin, “I kept waking up last night. It was way too cold.”

“Yes, I noticed,” he responds, his tone softened slightly by the acknowledgement.

“Oh,” you say softly before closing your eyes, allowing the weariness of the day to wash over you. However, you’re abruptly jolted from the verge of sleep by the sound of movement nearby. With a start, you almost jump out of your skin as Tech stands in front of you.

“Stars Tech!” You gasp, his sudden proximity shocking you. “What?”

“I want you to go to sleep.”

You blink at him.

“Okay…?”

“So,” you watch him shift, his movements awkward, “I will let you sleep beside me.”

It takes you a moment to comprehend his meaning before you pull a strange face, your eyebrows furrowing in confusion and slight amusement. “Are you asking me to cuddle you?” The thought surprises you, but oddly enough, it doesn’t sound too bad right about now.

“I would not put it so conveniently,” he says, his tone betraying a hint of discomfort, “I am merely stating that I could use my body warmth to help you sleep.”

You’re taken aback by his offer, but exhaustion soon overwhelms any reservations you may have had. “Oh… well, if you’re okay with that?”

“I would not have offered otherwise.” Tech’s smile is small but genuine, and you can’t help but softly smile back as you both sit beside one another, gazing into the flames of the fire pit. Soon, you find your eyes trailing down to his bare hands, frowning as you notice they look quite sweaty; an odd sight considering the cool evening air.

Curiosity gets the better of you, and you gaze up at his face, finding him engrossed in fixing his datapad. But something seems off—his complexion appears clammy, and there’s a flush to his cheeks.

Instinctively, you reach out and place the back of your hand to his forehead, gasping at the unexpected heat radiating from his skin. “Tech!” You squeak, startling him. “You have a fever? Why didn’t you tell me?”

He doesn’t even look at you, giving off a look like a character who had been bitten by something in those horrible horror holomovies and pretends to hide the bite. “Tech,” you say his name again, more sternly. “Are you hurt?”

He sighs, dropping his device into his lap before he lifts his arm to you, showing a bandage of his own that is stained in dry blood. “As I was maneuvering through the shuttle, I just so happened to trip and catch my arm on some jagged metal. It is nothing to fret about.”

“Oh, come off it, you’re burning up.” Tech notices the slight worry in your tone, watching you lean to your other side as you produce the herbal paste you used on yourself earlier. “Let me put this on.”

“Rest and water will do me fine-.”

“That’s funny, seeing as you just told me you’d rather me sleep than yourself.” You say with a roll of your eyes, taking a firm yet gentle hold of his arm before you start to peel the bandage away, holding down your nausea just for him.

Tech watches you with a concerned gaze. “I must insist…” he trails off as his eyes move to the sticky paste, clearly uncertain about your own remedy.

“Don’t you trust me?” You ask, and time seems to freeze as you both lock eyes, speaking silently to one another. His gaze is strong and, albeit, quite hypnotising behind his yellow-tinted goggles. But, you seem to snap out of your gaze as he replies:

“I do.”

“Well,” you say, clearing your throat as you drop your gaze to his arm, “let me help you.”

You’re gentle with your movements, applying the remedy over his arm with precision. You could feel his stare on your face, and so you slowly looked back up at him, his face so near you could almost feel the warmth of his breath dancing on your skin. “See? That should help with the pain,” you find yourself whispering.

For once, the two of you didn’t seem to be at each other's necks, both of you seeming to try and read each other’s thoughts. Tech was not the best at reading feelings, and as you gaze into his eyes, you find yourself not being able to read his too.

Eventually, you look away. An unusual heat started to crawl up your neck, and you didn’t think it was from the flame from the fire or his ‘body warmth’ as he put it. Lack of sleep and lack of food and water. That had to be it.

“Are you sure you don’t want to sleep, Tech?” You ask again as the drowsiness from before seeps back, and Tech turns his head away from you, inspecting his arm quietly before picking up his datapad once more.

“I am sure.”

The next day unfolded much like the one before it.

Tech grumbled about your mobility, his attempts to fix up the shuttle yielding no results, and the air between you both grew heavy with unspoken tension.

Yet, as nightfall descended once again, you found yourself nestled beside Tech, his warmth offering a rare respite, allowing you to drift into a peaceful sleep. And miraculously, your homemade remedy seemed to work wonders on both of you. You could now move with a bit more ease, and the infections on your injuries had cleared up.

But as you stared into the dancing flames that night, a wave of sorrow washed over you.

“You were right, you know?” you whispered into the night, the warmth of the fire casting flickering shadows on your face.

“About what?” Tech responded, his eyes fixed on his datapad, the soft glow illuminating his features.

Tears welled up at the corners of your eyes, and you struggled to keep them at bay, feeling utterly helpless. “That it was my fault… with the mission. If I had just let you do the data transfer instead of insisting I could do it then…” Your voice faltered, choked by a sob that escaped your lips, startling Tech. “Then we would’ve made it out in time! A-and the others… Tech, we don’t even know if they’re alive!”

Tech stared at you wide-eyed, your sudden outburst of emotion catching him off guard. Yet, amidst your tears streaming down your face and your hands clasped over your head, he uttered your name softly, “Mistakes happen.”

“But they don’t with you, Tech!” you cried, turning to face him. “You’re always so good, so perfect at everything you do, and I… I just wanted to prove myself to you! I always feel like I am not good enough for you, and that’s why you don’t like me.”

For a moment, the crackling of the fire was the only sound between you, the flames casting a warm glow on both of your faces. Tech's expression softened as he regarded you with understanding.

“Not liking you, is not something that ever crossed my mind,” he finally said, his voice low. “You were determined, and that is a trait that is to be commended. It is true, I often find it easier to rely on myself but I am programmed that way. But you, you gave it your all, and that is commendable. Do not be so hard on yourself.”

You sniffle, feeling the weight of your emotions pressing down on you like a heavy blanket. The tears keep escaping your eyes, trailing down your cheeks as you struggle to contain your emotions. "But… because of me, you’re stuck here?"

Tech’s gaze softens, his eyes reflecting understanding. His voice carries a comforting warmth as he responds, “I am aware. But think how you would be if I were not here.”

Your mind whirls with the possibilities of what could have been, but you still feel terrible. "But we may not see the others again… we may not ever leave here." Your voice trembles with the weight of uncertainty, your heart heavy with guilt.

Tech’s gaze shifts away, his brows furrowing in contemplation as he adjusts his goggles. "We have to adapt to survive, we always have. And regarding the others, the probability of their survival is 89%. It is likely they are out there looking for us. And if I get the shuttle repaired enough to get a connection, I can send a signal and hope they pick up our coordinates.” His voice carries a note of determination.

You cling to his words like a lifeline, a glimmer of hope flickering in the depths of your despair. How could you have been so stupid? But, his words held promise but you can’t help but ask: "Promise me you’re not lying to me?"

“I have not once ever lied to you and I would not start now.” His response is steady, his words a soothing balm to your battered soul.

As your tears slowly subside, a tentative smile graces your lips. "Thanks Tech,” you murmur, your voice thick with emotion. “I bet I look a mess right now. I’m a pretty ugly cryer.”

Tech’s gaze softens, a hint of warmth in his eyes as he searches for the right words. "No, you look…” He trails off, his gaze lingering on your tear-streaked face. He reaches out, his touch feather-light as he gently brushes away a stray tear that glistens on your lashes.

“What?” you prompt, your breath catching in your throat at his unfamiliar touch as you meet his gaze.

“Like you,” he finishes, a little awkward but his words were imbued with sincerity as he offers you a small smile.

Emotion wells up inside you, a tidal wave of gratitude and affection crashing over you. Without a second thought, you lean forward, wrapping your arms around him in a tight embrace. He freezes for a moment, taken aback by the sudden intimacy, before tentatively returning the hug, his arms encircling you in a protective cocoon.

As you’re wrapped in each other's embrace, you find solace; a fleeting moment of peace.

As sleep beckons, you can’t help but nestle closer to him, finding comfort in his presence as you drift off into the realm of dreams, his steady heartbeat a lullaby.

In the days that followed, a significant improvement became evident. Tech’s progress on the shuttle repair was slow, hampered by the absence of his proper tools. Despite the challenges, both of your injuries had begun to heal, and the atmosphere in camp had lightened considerably.

Although the water still tasted like dirt, you were no longer dehydrated. Discovering some rare fruits that proved not to be poisonous added to the uplifting spirit.

At night, neither of you seemed to mind huddling for warmth. You would lay against him, listening to the plans and stories he had, especially if you begged him to tell you. Although they were very matter-of-fact and not overly entertaining, you found the tales of the squad before you joined enjoyable. You both no longer bickered, clearing the air of past arguments, and genuinely enjoyed each other's company. Although it was not like either of you had any other options.

But that’s not the only thing that had changed. You found yourself getting nervous around Tech. A good kind of nervous. When he was working on the shuttle, you couldn’t help but sit back and admire him at work. He was attractive, sure, but you found him more than that. He listened intently to you, offering advice and tips without seeming to mansplain to you.

So that night by the fire again, sitting by his side, you weren’t so surprised about the next set of events.

“What are you going to do when we leave this place?” You ask, your body twisting to face him as you rest your elbow against the boulder, hand on the side of your head as you lean yourself up to look at him.

He smiles, noticing how you said ‘when’ and not ‘if’, highlighting your trust in him. “I will most likely do what I usually do, get ready for the next mission set for us.”

You roll your eyes. “You don’t want to celebrate?”

“Celebrate what, exactly?”

“Well,” you start with a soft laugh, “us finally putting our differences aside and not killing each other for one.” You suggest, earning a fond chuckle from the clone before continuing. “And surviving.”

He thinks for a moment, looking into the flames and then at you. “I suppose those are adequate reasons to celebrate, yes. Will the others be joining?”

“Sure,” you say with a smile but there’s a small swirl in your stomach as you say, “unless… you don’t want them to join us?”

Tech blinks, and for a second, it was like he was short-circuiting as he thinks about your proposal. Was it flirtation in your tone or had he imagined it? “I do not mind either way,” he explains, his chest slightly puffing out. “It would be nice to perhaps talk like this in a more formal setting elsewhere. Just us.”

You silently suck in a deep breath, a shy glint in your eyes. “I think I’d like that, yeah.” Your tone lowered, and you can’t help but notice that Tech had turned his body more to face you. Then, his eyes flickered to your lips as you inadvertently licked them, chapped but tinged with the sweetness of the fruit before.

You hold his gaze, slightly tilting your head as you take a gamble and look to his lips, then to his eyes. It was an invitation, and you hoped that Tech got the hint.

And he did.

Slowly, he sets his datapad to one side, finally letting it go as he focuses all of his attention on you. There’s a charge in the air, and you see him lean closer... and closer…

Your breath hitches, eyes slowly falling shut as he closes the distance, his nose brushing against yours before his lips meet your own in a soft, shy kiss. Leaning more into it, your hand finds refuge on his leg whilst one of his hands comes up and cups your cheek.

You sigh into him, heart racing as you feel him grow bolder. His lips, warm and inviting, meld with yours, igniting a spark that you both had been unknowingly kindling. His touch sends shivers down your spine as the kiss deepens, becoming more desperate, more intense. The jungle, the planet, the whole star system around you seems to fade away.

Tech utters your name against your lips, your soft moan of a response allowing his tongue into your mouth, exploring, igniting a fiery passion within you.

Gently, he lays you down by the fire, the crackling flames casting dancing shadows across his face. He pulls away for a moment, pulling his goggles off his face as he peers down at you, his eyes a dance of different emotions. “You are enchanting.”

But with a hunger that can no longer be contained, he crashes his lips back to yours, now allowing you to let your tongue meet his in a fervent dance; fingers tangling in his untamed hair meanwhile his hands roam over your body.

The next day brought a breakthrough. Tech managed to gain contact.

Overwhelmed by joy, you ran into Tech’s arms, jumping and letting him spin you around with a chuckle as you knew both of you would soon be saved! And better yet, the others were alive and safe too.

“I can’t believe you did it! You really did it.” You grin at him as he pulls back from the hug but does not let you down, instead cradles you in his arms.

“You seem surprised.”

“Oh Tech,” you say adoringly, leaning forward and giving his lips a soft kiss, smiling as he hums against your lips.

“I will never get tired of you kissing me,” he utters, truly in awe of how this sudden turn of events had happened. It was quick, but neither of you seemed to mind.

Last night was magic. All the bad memories had faded from your mind, solely just focusing on Tech and yourself. When all hope had seemed lost, your mistake led you to one of the best choices you ever could make. And maybe, that promised date would become something more.

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nackrosor · 1 month

Text

~ Childhood Sweethearts ~

[Part 2 / ?]

Leon S. Kennedy x bestie!Reader

PART 1 ✨

warnings/tags: friends to lovers, slow burn, pining, eventual romance, eventual smut, depressed/traumatised Leon, angst with hurt/comfort

series synopsis: you and Leon have been friends since you can remember. You've always been there for him, especially through the bad times. He's in a bad place again and he needs you. You're the only light in his pretty dark life.

word count: 3,8k.

The hours passed slowly as you sat there, watching over him. Thankfully, only the occasional twitch of his brow and unconscious babbling disturbed his otherwise peaceful rest.

You treated his fever by placing a damp and cold cloth over his forehead until you could feel his skin had cooled considerably. Even so, your gaze never left his form, not even to rest your eyes for a moment. You remained vigilant the entire time. The events of the previous hours, as well as conjectures about what had led your best friend to his current state, lingered in your mind, pestering it for hours, although at least they ensured you stayed awake.

Eventually, the first signs of morning appeared, and the darkness outside your window faded into faint hints of light that trickled through your curtains. You thanked the sky for providing you with a clear and sunny day after such a dark and stormy night.

Only a few moments later, Leon began to stir and struggle to open his heavy eyes.

You swiftly moved to his side, kneeling by the bed. Your hand instinctively moved to his forehead to gauge his temperature again, and you breathed a sigh of relief when you felt his skin cool to the touch, just like the last time you had checked.

You stalled for a moment, waiting for his eyes to fully open before speaking.

“Good morning, Leon... How are you feeling?" You asked him softly, brushing his blonde locks of hair off his temples.

"I'm tired... Thirsty..." he complained in a raspy voice. He sounded more coherent than the previous night, although he was still struggling to articulate sentences. His throat must have been sore and his mouth pretty dry.

You were ready to stand up and fetch him a glass of water, but before you could move a finger, he reached out his hand to cup your cheek. His gaze met yours for the first time since he woke up, and you nearly gasped out loud. He flashed you that knowing look he always gives you when he acknowledges something you did before you could even tell him. His thumb brushed delicately over the bags under your eyes, as if he meant to wipe them from your skin, and you stared at him in awe as the angles of his lips twisted in a small smile.

"You look awful…"

Your face immediately broke into a grin. There he was. There was the Leon you adored. The familiar sarcasm in his tone provided an instant balm to your fretting heart. He was clearly feeling better. At the very least, he sounded more like himself.

"Look who's talking…" you snapped back jokingly, like you always do. You two would always go back and forth, taunting and poking fun of one another until the stupid jokes had you both in stitches. It was kind of like your love language. And you'd missed it. You had missed it so much.

Smiling knowingly at him, you gently patted the back of his hand and then pulled it away from your face.

"I'll be back in a moment with some water." you announced, standing up and walking to the door. "Don't move, mh?" you teased him, arching your brow as you turned to leave the room.

As you walked away, Leon let out what sounded like a scoff, leaving you grinning even harder. And you smiled all the way to the kitchen and back to the bedroom, holding a full glass of water in one hand. You couldn't help but feel like the worst was over and things could only get better from here.

When you returned, Leon had already managed to sit straight and lean his back against the bed's headrest. He turned to look at you as you approached him again and sat down next to him.

"Thanks..." he rasped as he took the drink from you. You silently observed him as he drank the water, recalling how you had to assist him with the same task last night, when he struggled to even rest his lips against the rim. He was doing it by himself this time, with little to no trouble.

"Water should help you with your hangover..." you stated softly, taking the empty glass from him. A mischievous gleam flashed across your eyes. "But I don’t know, you're the expert..."

Leon appeared to notice the veiled jab in your words, but instead of engaging in banter as you assumed he would, you watched as his face fell and his gaze darted to the opposite side. Your chest clenched, and you immediately felt guilty about what you'd said. Perhaps it was too soon.

"Did I... Did I cause you trouble?"

He sounded and looked ashamed as he spoke. His gaze shifted from yours to the sheets, his brow furrowing as if he was remembering or attempting to recall what had occurred the night before.

You huffed a soft giggle through your nose, aiming to lighten the situation. You couldn't bear seeing that look on his face.

"You puked all over my sink, drenched my carpet..." you began, with a humorous tone. "You took my favourite side of the bed, my clothes..." you added, gently nudging him with your knee. You were hoping to ease the tension and make him smile again.

"I guess I did cause a bit of trouble..." he conceded. You had managed to get him to crack a little smile, albeit an exhausted and short-lived one.

He cleared his throat, rubbed his palms over his face and then took a long breath.

"Are you angry with me?" he finally asked.

His question left you stunned for a minute. It wasn't something you'd heard from him before, and you realised it must have required a lot of courage for him to bring it up. You frowned at his serious tone at first, but you quickly offered him one of your big smiles in the hopes that it would instantly reassure him and leave no room for doubts.

"Do I look like I'm angry to you?"

Leon seemed to relax at the sight, although he still looked concerned.

"No... No, you don't," he said quietly, glancing down then back up at you. "I really mean it, though... I really am sorry for last night. I shouldn't have..."

You gave him a puzzled look as he paused and glanced away, evidently caught up in his own thoughts.

"Do you... Do you hate me for this?"

Your frown only deepened in response to his question. Hate? Was he seriously afraid you'd despise him for what had happened? You hadn't expected to hear him talk like that.

"If I hate you for coming to me for help when you needed it?" You pressed him, your tone somewhat reprimanding but also understanding, as if you were trying to reason with a hurt child.

“No, Leon. I do not hate you. I am not upset with you. Why would I be?"

You couldn't understand. Was he recollecting his dizzy thoughts from the previous night and feared that he might have done anything to jeopardise your friendship? Or was he just feeling ashamed to have let you see him in such a miserable state?

"I'm sorry... I should've..."

He paused again, seeking for the right words which hesitated to come. Finally, he sighed and rubbed his eyes with his palms before fixing his gaze on you. Your chest tightened as you saw his lapis lazuli clouded with sorrow.

"I... I'm just... I'm just tired. Tired of everything," he admitted with a shaky tone. "Tired of being alone." The corners of his eyes and the angles of his mouth curved into a faint, sad smile as he added in a whisper, "I wanted to see you..."

You felt a pang in your heart after hearing his admission. You grabbed his hand impulsively and squeezed it in a reassuring gesture. That must have been the reason he started drinking again, as well as the cause of his state last night. Only the thought of him staggering through the streets in the pouring rain, completely inebriated, with the sole intent of coming to see you is enough to cause a lump to form in your throat.

You had no idea how severe his loneliness was. He had never spoken about it so openly, so bluntly, actually stressing the words out loud. He had always mentioned the nightmares, the memories, and the emotions they brought back, but never how lonely he felt. Or maybe he did. Maybe he gave you the signals but you failed to pick them up. That awful notion crept into your muddled head, leaving you doubting yourself. Could you have done more for him? Could you've been more present? But you were always there for him when he needed you...

"Leon... You're not alone." You addressed firmly, despite the fact that your voice was quivering with emotion. "I'm always here for you, you know that."

He softly clasped your hand back. The melancholy in his eyes intensified, but there was a certain tenderness in the way he gazed at you.

"I know," he responded calmly, and you were soothed by the straightforward response. "I just... I just wish I wouldn't have to rely on you so much."

He took a brief pause before continuing to speak. "I know it's not easy to be around me, to help me through this."

Did that mean there had been instances when he chose not to bother you even though he needed someone? Even though he needed you to be there? The thought caused you to desperately shake your head, your frown deepened and your heart clenched.

He looked across at your face again, his expression anguished, and before you could voice your protest, he declared, "You don't deserve all of this..."

You couldn't bear to look at his face nor listen to his self-deprecating statements. In a rush of affection, you drew in and wrapped your arms around him, resting your head on his chest.

"Stop that nonsense." you groaned, squeezing your eyes closed. "You're my best friend, Leon, and I care about you. I want you to rely on me... You will never be a burden. Never."

As you held him, he buried his head in your shoulder and wrapped his arms around you as well. He just hugged you tight and for a couple of moments he seemed unable to say anything else.

You could feel his heartbeat against your cheek. It was erratic, thumping rapidly just like yours, yet mixed with the warmth radiating off his body, it somehow managed to soothe you, even if only a little.

"I want you to know..." he began, his voice trembling noticeably. You could feel his warm breath tingling the sensitive skin of your neck. "When I have nightmares... When I wake up in the middle of the night... or whenever those feelings resurface... The first thing I think of is that I wish you were there."

Your stomach clenched at his confession. It both devastated and touched you to hear him say that, and you were unable to convey the conflicting feeling into words. You simply hugged him closer in response, momentarily failing to speak.

"You always know how to make me feel better... Just you being there for me, being present… helps."

You sealed your eyes shut so as to keep the tears at bay, but the more he shared, the more he opened his heart to you, the harder it proved to refrain from crying.

"I wish..." he whispered, burying his face further into the crook of your neck, "...that you were there all the time..."

He paused. The pain in his voice forced him to swallow.

"I wish it was always just you and me..."

You were truly fighting off the sobs as he gave voice to such a heart-wrenching wish. You couldn't hug him any tighter and yet you tried anyway, hoping to fully convey to him how much you cared about him, cherished him. To really make him feel your love, which was boundless.

"I wish I could always be there for you..." you managed to blurt out in answer, your voice muffled by the growing lump in your throat. You kept your cheek pressed against his chest, seeking shelter in the rhythm of his heartbeat and the warmth of his body.

One of his hands crept to the nape of your neck, slipping between your hair and cupping the back of your scalp in a panicked yet affectionate motion, pulling you closer to him.

"I wish... I wish we could go back to... The good days..."

The mounting anguish in his voice rendered it all the more challenging for you to remain strong for his sake.

"Before..." he said slowly. "When... Before..."

At the end, his voice trailed off; he seemed to be struggling with letting the words out.

You knew all too well what he meant to say, even if he failed to say it out loud and at that point it all became too much for you. A first sob escaped your lips without you could do anything to prevent it.

You raised your head from his chest, your hands moving upward to cup his cheeks in a firm but loving manner, just to make sure he looked directly at you. The sight of his glossy eyes momentarily delayed your speaking.

"I know... I know..." you mumbled, feeling your voice falter as the first tear fell from your eye, "But we can't go back. We can't. We can only move forward and do it in the best way we can. You had me beside you during the good days... You had me beside you during the bad days... You'll have me, always. I won't leave you alone."

His jaw clenched and his nostrils flared, as if he, too, was trying his hardest to hold back the tears. Leon opened his mouth to speak, but froze and closed his eyes, looking as though he was trying to summon the courage to share what was on his mind. His pained gaze met yours again as he reached out to brush his thumb on your cheeks to wipe the tears away.

For some time you stayed like that, just gazing at each other. The air between you buzzing with a mixture of emotions, your faces almost touching and yet no one dared to close the gap. You could have. You could have kissed him right there and then, showing him just how much you meant those words, showing him just how deep your love ran for him. But was it the right time? With Leon in such a wretched state? Wouldn't that have been like taking advantage of him? Oh, you couldn't do that to him, to your special friendship. No, that wasn't the right time… and yet, everything in you was urging you to lean forward.

His gaze travelled from yours to your lips, and his thumb followed the same path to brush away a tear that was sitting at the corner of your mouth. His stare lingered there on your lips, and you practically stopped breathing, caught in a daze. His jaw clenched again, his fingers tensed, his lips parted... But then he drew his hand away and pulled back, breaking the spell. You could hear your heart, too, shattering a little.

"Do you think..." he started but stopped right after to clear his throat. "Maybe we could..."

He attempted to get the words out again, his brow furrowing and his adam's apple bobbing hard in his throat. He eventually gave you a little smile to mask his struggle, but you could see right through it.

"Never mind... It's a stupid idea… forget it."

You blinked back the tears and tried to still the ache in your chest. Whatever he meant to say was clearly all but a stupid idea, you could feel it.

"We could… what?" You encouraged him softly, touching his arm to reassure him and give him the courage to speak up.

Leon looked down at your hand for a brief moment before slowly returning his gaze to your face. He took a big breath to calm himself down before trying again.

"Maybe we could... Maybe we could..."

His words seemed to catch in his throat once more, and he groaned defeatedly, but you gently rubbed his arm and stared at him patiently until he finally managed to continue.

"Maybe we could... Live together... I mean-"

His eyes widened, as if he couldn't believe he'd actually said it aloud, or perhaps out of fear for your reaction. Either way, he promptly tried to downplay his own words. "I told you. It's a stupid idea, really..."

"Live together?" you echoed his suggestion, a stunned look on your face. Your palm left his arm, nervously clasping the other hand in your lap. "You mean... like roommates?"

You thought you saw pain flash across his eyes for a split moment before he quickly concealed it under a solemn expression.

"Yeah, like..." He took a deep breath and tried to compose himself. "Like roommates..."

You could see a mix of emotions flickering in his eyes as he held your gaze; dread, hope, shame, trepidation... Then he looked away and ran his shaking hands through his hair.

"Look, I-I know it sounds silly..." he continued, his voice filled with frustration and urgency. "I just..."

His intense gaze met yours again, and you could see desperation written all over his face.

"...I just don't want to be alone anymore. At least for a while.

He was growing exceedingly restless and nervous by the second, and before his state could get any worse, you grabbed his hands and squeezed them tight to interrupt his spiral of negative thoughts. A tender smile playing on your lips.

"There's nothing silly about it, Leon... Actually, I believe it's a good idea.” You reassured him in a soft yet resolute tone. "I could keep a constant eye on you that way," you observed, a hint of playfulness returning to your tone.

His eyebrows shoot up in surprise.

"You mean you'll..." he began, but stopped mid-sentence. He blinked and frowned, seemingly taken aback by your response. "Really?" he asked. "Are you sure? You don't have to... It's a lot to ask-"

"It's not a lot to ask!" You interrupted him with a soft chuckle and a squeeze of your hands. "We're best friends! And we used to spend a lot of time together, didn't we? It will be just like in the old days... when we were younger. Except this time, instead of separating at the end of the day, we'll be sharing a house." You mused, a hint of mirth in your voice. "You can move here even right away. I'm absolutely fine with it. More than fine. I'm thrilled."

Leon remained still for a minute, his eyes drawn to your hands holding his. You swear you saw the corners of his lips twitch in a moved smile, but it vanished all too quickly, leaving you wondering if you had imagined it.

His hands slipped out of your grasp, only to wrap around yours and squeeze tightly, like if he was holding on for dear life.

"I... I just don't want you to feel like... Like you have to..."

He looked up at you again.

"Are you really okay with it?" He asked with a hint of a smile, hope shimmering like a white wave across his blue eyes. "I won't bother you?"

He evidently needed a bit more encouragement, so you smiled even bigger and declared, "It's decided!" to dismiss any further doubt. "You'll move in with me. The guest room is not as big as my bedroom, but I hope it's comfortable enough for you-"

"It's perfect!" he replied in a hurry, perhaps with too much enthusiasm, not that you would hold it against him. "Just for the simple fact that it's here with you."

You couldn't help but feel a flutter in your stomach upon hearing his remark, although you tried your best not to dwell on the feelings that it evoked inside you. All that mattered was the joy that was clearly returning to your best friend's face. And seeing him smile was all that you needed.

"Thank you, Y/N," he whispered, closing his eyes and raising your clasped hands to his forehead. "Thank you so much."

The sight made your heart skip a beat and your cheeks flush; the way he cradled your hands and nuzzled his forehead against your skin was almost too much for you to bear. Yet you tried your hardest to hold your emotions at bay.

"Now…" you cleared your throat and gently pulled your hands back before you could say or do something dumb. "Do you think you can make it to the kitchen for breakfast? Or do I need to bring it here?

His lovely eyes met yours again, and for some reason, this time they sent shivers down your spine.

"I'm sure I can make it to the kitchen," he replied with a smile. "Go ahead. I will be there in a minute or two."

You smiled back at him and nodded before standing.

"You know... I think this will actually do me a lot of good..." he added, causing you to halt, "I won't have to spend so much time alone." He paused, then pointed out, "You won't have to worry as much either."

"Yeah... I guess this truly is the best option for us both." You confirmed with a smile, despite the growing apprehension that was clawing at your stomach. It would be so much harder to hide your feelings from him while living under the same roof 24/7…. But you'd have to make do somehow. Leon seemed overjoyed at the prospect of moving in with you, and there was no way you could take that away from him. No way.

With one final lingering look at his serene face, you turned around and walked to the doorway, only to stop at the last minute.

"Don't take too long, or I'll eat all the croissants," you teased him, snickering at the sight of the grin that instantly lit up his face.

“You wouldn't dare…”

You merely shrugged and disappeared down the hall.

Leon huffed an earnest chuckle as you left the room and shook his head in amusement. With a sigh he fell back down on the mattress and closed his eyes. A wave of relief washed over him as he replayed the last portion of your conversation in his head.

"Finally..." he whispered to himself. "I can't believe it's finally happening. Now... I can begin to find my peace again..."

For the first time in years, he felt an overwhelming sense of joy and hope for the future.

"Thank you," he uttered, raising his hands to cover his face as the tears he fought so hard to suppress began to prickle his eyes. This time, he did not hold them back.

"Just... Thank you."

MORE STORIES 🥀

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#leon s kennedy #leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy x y/n #leon s kennedy x reader #resident evil #resident evil 4 #leon resident evil #re4 leon #resident evil fanfiction #leon kennedy fanfic #leon scott kennedy #leon scott kennedy x reader #leon scott kennedy x you #fanfictions #friends to lovers #my writing

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ralvezfanatic · 3 months

Note

I fucking NEED to read what it'd be like to have Luke absolutely writhing beneath you. Whether you're riding him or he's letting you top him🙏

Luke Alvez x GN!Reader

Reader teases Luke while riding him, watching him beg and become a mess under them.

Warnings: No actual plot, gets straight into the smut. Sorta Submissive Luke and Dom/Tease Reader. Luke is whiny and needy !! No mention of Readers genitalia. Luke speaks spanish quite a lot cuz im gay for him speaking spanish mb.. um also first time writing sub Luke sooo

Word Count: 932

A/N: bestie, i am so sorry this took so long. as much as i LOVED this request, my mind blanked out whenever I tried writing. i hope you still like this 😭

You sit on top of Luke, naked and a big smirk on your face from teasing him. He lays beneath you, uncomfortably hard, his eyes clouded with lust while your hands trail his chest.

“Please cariño, I need to be in you so bad. Please..” Luke begged, his hands moving up to hold you, his hips bucking upwards slightly.

“Yeah? You need me? You wanna fuck me?” You lean down close to his face, your breath tickling his neck. You let out a small laugh, pressing an opened mouth kiss on his neck as he lets out a small whine.

“Sí.. sí, please..” He begged, his hands trying to pull you down unsuccessfully.

You chuckle at his desperate voice, pulling away from him to sit up. You back up, taking a hold of his length to line yourself up.

Luke groans as he slowly enters you, his fingers digging into you, trying to pull you down completely.

You let out a groan as he enters you completely, sitting on his member for a moment to get used to the intrusion. “Fuck Luke. You fill me up so well..” You murmur out, slowly rocking your hips as you get used to his size.

“Mm, cariño, please..” Luke groans out, thrusting his hips upwards trying to push into you.

“Shh, relax, be patient.” You laugh, your hands moving onto his stomach to calm him.

“Be a good boy, alright?” You ask, slowly starting to speed up the movement of your hips. You grind yourself on his dick, riding him as he tries to hold back his moans.

His hands hold your hips, and he looks up to you with lust clouded eyes. “Faster, please.” He begged, his hands trying to guide you on himself.

You laugh at his desperation, but comply anyway. You allow him to guide you, speeding up your movements and riding him faster. “God, you're so good Luke.. so so good.” You praised him softly, only causing his hips to buck up with another moan.

“Mas rapido.. Please Y/N.. faster. ”His nails dug into your skin as he thrusted into you, chasing your tight walls, but his actions were quickly stopped by you.

“Calm down, last time I checked you weren't in charge here” You grabbed his wrists, pulling them off you and pinned them against the bed.

This was a bit new to both of you, but not unliked. You weren't usually the dominant one in bed, but damn did Luke enjoy it when you were.

He loved being controlled by you, having you use him and boss him around. It added to the moment, the pleasure.

“Lo siento mi amor..” He mumbled out, forcing his hips to stay down,

You smiled as he finally calmed down, but kept his hands pinned down just to remind him who was in charge.

You grinded yourself on his length, trying to find your sweet spot with each movement. With a swift movement, his dick hit a specific spot, causing you to moan out loudly. You kept that angle, groaning out with each time you hit that one spot.

Your moans were only music to Luke's ears, each of them adding to his arousal. He groaned and whined as he struggled not to thrust up into you.

“Porfa.. please.. mas, need more..” Luke muttered out, unsure what he was even begging for. He groaned, trying to move his hands to hold you again, but you still pinned him down.

You ignored his pleas, continuing to use his dick for your own pleasure, moving your hips back and forth. You hit your spot almost every time, bringing yourself closer to the edge every time.

Luke cried out each time you moved, his dick twitching inside you. He groaned, bucking his hips upwards and trying to move his hands out your grip.

“Ay dios, I’m so close..” Luke grunted, shutting his eyes as he bit back a moan.

You finally released his hands, and he immediately put them on your body, his hands running up your thighs, holding back his moans as you rode him.

“Ya casi.. porfa.. God Y/N you feel so good.” He muttered as he felt his orgasm approach. His hands moved up your thighs and to your waist, holding you down on him.

The room filled with the erotic sounds of both your moans, and the sound of you riding him.

“Y/N.. ya, ya voy a-” With a last movement forward, and Luke bucking upwards, he finally came inside you with a moan.

“Fuck, I'm close Luke..” You groaned as he finished inside you, moving faster on him, chasing your own orgasm.

Luke whined softly as you used him, the pleasure slowly overwhelming him. His hands grabbed your hips, trying to slow you down slightly, but failed to actually stop you.

With one last movement down onto him, you hit your spot again and came onto him. You moaned out, slowly grinding yourself on his dick as you rode out your high, small praises slipping past your lips.

You panted as you came down from your high, still on Luke, his semen slowly dripping out of you. You leaned down, resting your head on his shoulder taking a breath before finally getting off of him.

“You really change when you're not the one on top huh?” You chuckle laying down next to Luke, who just blushes slightly.

“Callate mejor.” He muttered, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you to him to cuddle.

You laugh and hug him back, his head nuzzling into the crook of your neck.

Taglist: @starch1ldz @jaden-reid, @the-gregster, @lover-of-books-and-tea, @eli-chris

#luke alvez #criminal minds #luke alvez x male reader #luke alvez smut #luke alvez x reader #male reader smut #luke alvez x gn!reader #luke alvez x gn reader #criminal minds x gn reader #x gender neutral reader #gender neutral reader #criminal minds x reader

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two-red-lungs · 2 years

Note

Sneaking Eddie over and making him stay quiet because your family is downstairs 😩

Ooh, and loudly playing Black Sabbath so your family thinks you're just listening to music but you're actually going down on the one guy they told you to stay away from

The hold this guy has on me is ASTRONOMICAL 😭

NO I LOVE THIS I LOVE THIS you rule bestie thank you for this

"Rapunzel, Rapunzel" (Eddie x Fem!Reader)

"Oh, you can absolutely have boys over." Your father had said cheerfully. Your eyebrows went up. He fluffed his newspaper. "...When you have a place of your own."

So going forward that was the rule. Stay straight-laced, even after you graduated: no boys, no booze, no drugs, no sneaking out. It was overbearing. You weren't blind. You had just kind of given in and accepted your life was really only going to get interesting when you moved out.

That was, until you met Munson.

You shut your bedroom door, locking it, and crank the speakers up until Ozzy is scream-singing about Lady Evil loud enough to drown out the television downstairs and your mother's phone call two doors down.

Outside your window, in the twilight semidarkness, a tall figure scrambles over your yard fence, falling into a rosebush. You snicker: it rights itself, skirting the kitchen window light with all the grace and tact of a rock-and-roll peacock.

Eddie presses his mouth to your windowpane, puffing his cheeks like a pufferfish, shit-eating giddy grin on his face when you pull an exasperated expression and haul the latch open.

He tumbles onto your bed with a grunt and you shush him, smacking his shoulder a few times.

Eddie just catches your wrist, grip going to your forearm, and drags you on top of him. The electric guitar picks up its wild, note-bending solo and you sink into his heat, broad chest and sturdy hips under you, mouth hot and wet. He tastes like skunky weed and gas station Lil Debbie's cakes.

He is your Dionysus, and he revels in the fact. It tickles him pink. He tries to give you everything in the world.

Even now, he's pulling a pocket-sized bottle of Hendrick's gin out of his coat pocket and pressing it into your palm, pecking you in the cheek with a smile, and rolling off the bed to tuck your desk chair against your door handle. Bobbing his head a few times to your choice of music, watching your take an uncut gulp.

"I thought your folks wouldn't let you play this stuff." He says softly, barely audible over the next track of thrashing drums and low bass.

The burn of booze is good: it feels real, more real than the stuffy Sunday family dinners and framed holiday photos. "They didn't, at first. But I guess the whole 'giving me no adult freedoms' really guilted them into letting me have this one thing."

He put a hand to his chest, moseying over and dropping down onto your mattress hard enough to nearly send you flying. "They'd flip if they learned who gave you the mixtape. Like, can you imagine your mom going all-" He pulls a monstrous face, making a loud gagging, aghast noise. It threatens to cut over the guitar.

You gasp-laugh and clap hands over his mouth, dragging him close to you. "Shut up!" You hiss, emphasis ruined by a smile.

His dark brown eyes glitter. "Make me, princess." He says, muffled through your fingers.

Then you're on him, like every Friday night. Sitting on his lap and lazily making out with him, his back against your wall still painted the same baby periwinkle from youth. In between long, slow, heated kisses you exchange drags on the blunt under the window. The smoke disappears up into the starry sky. Ozzy continues to rage.

He looks good like this, you decide. Red-cheeked under your weight, hands settled comfortably on your thighs, lips shiny and swollen from kissing. Just looking completely blissed out and fucking enchanted to even be here.

The tips of your fingers graze over the sparse start of his happy trail, visible over his heavy belt and top of his jeans. He sucks in a soft breath.

"Killing me over here, babe." He mutters, lips on yours, leaving wet spots down your chin, your neck. Not greedy, or aggressive. More his way of begging, than anything.

"Have you been naughty or nice this week, Munson?" You tease.

A slow, stupid smile. "Oh, so nice. The nicest. Helping old ladies, picking up litter and shit."

"Mm. You know what they say. Good boys get treats."

When you nose at his cock, half-hard and out of his jeans, his head hits the wall with a clunk. Your lips, your tongue, never fail to render him nonfunctional. He's murmuring words of praise and going completely stupid, eyes wide and mouth hanging open.

And when he cums it's almost tender, how much he thanks you for it. How he buckles over on himself, all lithe limbs and long hair and a low, guttural moan punched from his chest.

A loud, insistent knock on the door. "Hon? You doin' alright in there? You sick?" Your dad's voice says through the wood. The knob rattles.

You freeze on the bed between Eddie's knees, smelling like sweat and weed and booze. "...Yeah. Uh, cramps! Bad period cramps, so bad." It drives him away insanely fast. When you look back, Eddie is wetting his lips with his tongue and silently laughing, shoulders shaking.

"What is so funny?" You hiss admonishingly. His silent laughs have devolved into cackles he smothers in a fist.

"Oh my god," Eddie chuckles, "He would have died on the spot if he came in here. Like, 'Excuse me, daughter, can you finish smoking weed and blowing the freak so you can put the dishes away'?"

"You are incorrigible." You scold him, going in for another kiss. He leans into it, deep and warm and salty.

Suddenly your world tilts and your head hits the mess of pillows. Eddie's already sneaking fingertips under your hemline. "Haven't you heard the neighbors?" He says sagely. "I'm a public menace."

With that he's pulling your bottoms off and rubbing hands up up, up, up your bare thighs until they meet-

"Oh. Oh, Eddie."

#On god i am down bad for this man #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #stranger things imagine #stranger things s4 #my writing #minors dont look

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avalil18 · 3 months

Text

I love you, I promise

———————————————————————

Summary: you decide to check in on your child bestie after surgery but little did you know what you would overhear.

Warnings: fluff

Pairing: Joe burrow x reader

It was mid February and there was still a crisp feel in the air on a cloudy day in Cincinnati. You had just woken up in your big comfortable bed that you spend to much time in binge watching your favorite show Gilmore girls. It was around 9am when you got a text from someone. You rolled over and reached for your phone on your nightstand. You open your phone and see a message from your childhood best friend Joe.

Joe- hey! What are you doing today?

You smiled and knew he has been bored out of his mind these past couple months because he has been in bed recovering from his ACL injury back in November.

You- hi! Well I just woke up and now I’m texting you! How are you feeling?

Joe- I feel alright my body kinda aches but I’m so bored just laying here. My parents keep coming into my room to check on me every second of the day and I was wondering if you could come over because I honestly need them to lay off and I miss my best friend!😊

You laughed knowing very well that Joe kept getting a little annoyed by his parents coming in knowing he would be fine every time.

You- lol! They are just trying to take care of their son who still needs help getting up and moving. And I would be happy to come over! Be there in an hour!

Just as you were about to put your phone away to get ready Joe texted back.

Joe- yay! See ya in a few

You smiled and got up to get ready! You brush your teeth and do your skincare then You put on your Lululemon leggings and black bengals crewneck that Joe gave you as a free gift from the bengals. You curled your hair because you had a bad bed head from your luscious waves that are starting to turn out straight because how long your hair is. You then slip on your Air Force sneakers that are a little dirty and grab your big grey goyard bag that you decided to treat your self with by buying it because of your promotion. You work at Kettering Health Center as a nurse and love it! You sometimes get to head over to Paycore stadium to help the bengals before summer training starts just to make sure they are putting good stuff into their body and keeping healthy. The Bengals paired up with Kettering health a while ago and it has been a fun experience and you are always happy to see Joe at work whenever you stop by. You sometimes like to treat yourself because working in a hospital can’t always be easy and it’s nice to reward yourself sometimes.

You lock your apartment door and head to your garage. Once you open your car door you place your bag on the passenger seat and turn the car on. You only live about 15 minutes from Joe so it’s not a long drive. Once on the road you turn on your favorite playlist filled with Taylor swift, Olivia Rodrigo, and Noah Kahan! You start drumming your fingers to the beat of the songs on your steering wheel and before you know it you are at joes! He lives in a beautiful private neighborhood filled with big houses and a little country club. Joes house is pretty big maybe too big for one person but if Joe likes it you like it.

You step inside the big house and take off your shoes and start heading down the big hallway and stairs. Once you walk into the kitchen you are greeted by robin and jimmy who are joes amazing parents who you always adore and they have always adored you and they have always thought of you as a daughter. Robin sees you and says “Y/N”!

“Hi!I’m so happy to see you” you say after Hugging robin then going over to jimmy to say hi. “So how have you been?”jimmy and robin both ask. “I have been good, just very busy with work. I have tried to stop by but you know been busy!” You say kinda sad you haven’t stopped by a lot to take care of Joe and talk. “It’s ok y/n! Joe understands and we do to but we are so proud of you with your career truly!” Robin says making your heart filled with Joy and makes you smile. “Thank you robin!” You say and robin puts her hand on your arm and rubs your arm lovingly. “Joe is up stairs if you want to go up!” Jimmy says and you say yes and start walking up the big beautiful stairs. Once you reach Joe’s door you give a light knock to make sure Joe knows someone is there. He then says “Come in!” You walk through the door with a big smile on your face and you drop your bag and run up to his bed to where he was laying but you make sure to be careful and not hurt him anymore then he is. You squeal as you hug him and dig your head into the crook of his neck and wrap your arms around his torso. “There she is!” Joe says with a big smile on his face. You laugh and look up at him. He has a little stubble growing on his face because he has been a little too weak from surgery to get up and shave. You look into his beautiful ocean blue eyes and you swear you died right there and then. “How have you been?” Joe says excited to hear everything you have to tell him. “I’ve been good!You know busy but good!” You say. “Good! I’m so happy you are here!” Joe says and slight blush forms on his face with the smile you radiate after talking which you didn’t notice.

After talking for about quite literally the whole day and watching SpongeBob and watching football then eating dinner in bed with Joe because he didn’t feel good enough today to get up. It’s already 8:30pm and you are starting to get tried. Joe quickly notices your tired eyes and says “come here” he pats chest signaling for you to lay your head on his chest. You roll over onto your left side and you put your head onto his chest and your right arm over his stomach. “Go to sleep” Joe says in a quiet tone. You smile and say goodnight as Joe grabs the clicker to turn off the tv. He then pulls over the throw blanket and puts it on top of both of you. You snuggle into it and joe smiles knowing you are comfortable. He then says “goodnight y/n.” And turns off his bedside light and then it goes dark.

After a while you hear the door creak open into the room. You see a figure standing there but you are too tired to say hello so you just lay there trying to make up who it is. You then hear a voice. “Joe are you asleep?” Robin says. You now feel safe knowing it’s not some rando breaking in. Joe then says in a tired voice “no”. “Well I just want to say I love you and have a good night” robin says.“Thanks mom, goodnight.”Joe says. “And Joe take good care of her like I know you will. I know you love her and to afraid to ruin your friendship but I see the way she looks at you and you should tell her, don’t be scared.” Robin says. You can’t believe what she just said. Joe loves you and more than just in a friend way! You keep your eyes closed and still pretend to be asleep. “I will I promise. I love her more than life.” Joe then says. OMG! You couldn’t believe what just came out of joes mouth. You then hear the door close and you knew robin was gone. Then you feel Joe start to play with your hair and he then says “I love you so much you have no idea y/n.”

—————————-

Authors note: AHHHH!! My first story and ig first post! I hope for whoever sees this likes it. And if so I will keep writing! I am still figuring all of this stuff out so just keep that in mind!🤭🫶

#joe burrow

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thehistoriangirl · 7 months

Note

Since ur doing blurbs too👀 TRICK OR TREAT! SURPRISE ME🤍🩶🖤

Yesssss, okay bestie, this is ur trick and treat :3

Hope you like it!

The Sweeter Trick

Viktor x gn!Reader----626 words---SFW

Summary: You have more than one trick under your sleeve to convince Viktor to go to bed.

Tags: Established Relationship | Domestic Fluff |

The clock had chimed midnight by now, its ticking the only company Viktor had while working on his new project.

Between the scribble of his pencil dragging among calculations and messy blueprints filled with fragments of eraser, Viktor heard the muffled rhythm of your feet against the wooden floor of the hallway.

“Vitya…” you said, voice groggy; your figure almost shapeless with the oversized fluffy robe of your pajamas, almost like a cloak.

Viktor hummed turning to fully see you after settling his pen down, still comparing two equations to localize where the calculation had gone wrong. “Yes, my love?”

You sat in the armrest of the couch, leaning your body against the outline of the couch to rest your head against his. “Can you stay with me until I fall asleep?” you uttered, your fingers fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. “I’m scared.”

He sighed, pretending to be annoyed for the interruption, though you could hear the smile in his voice. “I told you not to watch that horror movie at night, dove.”

“But today’s the day to watch them!”

“It was,” he pointed out, always the smarty-pants. “It’s past midnight now. You should be in bed.”

“Please, Vikky, Vikky,” you said, pouting and giving him your best puppy eyes. "I'll fall asleep quick."

You saw his eyes flickering as he pondered his options; for once, the crouched position in the couch had given him a sore back, though he also wanted to keep going with his project before any idea could slip off his mind.

“I suppose I can take a small break,” he said, his muscles protesting when he stood up, a groan accompanying his stretches.

He took the cane, pushing the four empty coffee cups at the center of the table to not knock them over as he passed from the living room to where you were standing in the middle of the dim hallway.

“Come, my love, let’s get you to bed,” he said, going straight to the bedroom where you had already prepared the bed in case Viktor went to sleep with you in his own will, unsuccessfully. Until now, that is.

Your boyfriend tucked you into bed, using your reflexes before he could scoop away, pulling him by the lapel of his shirt so he had no choice but to lay next to you with a sigh.

Viktor called your name, almost naggingly. Though the sound stopped when you hugged him, making him the little spoon.

“Alright, you have your teddy bear, now go to sleep,” you heard him mumble, his breath drawing goosebumps in the crook of your neck.

“A very handsome teddy bear,” you said, and he chuckled.

“Goodnight, my love,” Viktor answered, his lips brushing your neck though his tone was more like a memorandum about you falling asleep than a proper goodbye.

You looked down at him, his pale skin from days to not have gone to a walk outside, the purple eyebags under those striking golden eyes.

Taking in his scent, of coffee and ink and citric, you kissed his forehead, bathing him in your warmth and dimming the lamp so the room was barely lit enough to see the pale skin peeking under his baggy night shirt, the hollow ends of his hipbone under the hem of his pajamas.

When you finished taking him in, you heard Viktor’s snores filling the room, his chest moving a soothing and even motion.

Smiling that your tactic worked, you slipped one hand toward the end of the blanket, wrapping it around his body as he scooped closer to you, his right leg climbing to rest in your thigh.

“Goodnight, my love,” you said against his hair, nuzzling into his presence as you too, fell asleep.

#viktor arcane x reader #arcane viktor x reader #viktor x reader #arcane viktor x you #viktor arcane x you #viktor x you

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starlightkun · 3 months

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➠ word count: 2.6k ➠ warnings: cursing, extremely brief implication of alcohol? (bestie chenle is back and bringing his best unhinged wine aunt energy to adulthood and we love that for him) ➠ genre: fluff, slice of life, established relationship, former hockey captain sungchan, chronically ill reader (chronic migraines), shortfic in the buzzer beater series (after between two palms, before freezing the puck) ➠ extra info: the reader in this has chronic migraines, which i have. when the reader’s migraines, experiences as a chronically ill person, and thoughts about being chronically ill are described, that is me writing directly from my own life. i am not generalizing the lives of all people with chronic migraines/chronic illnesses, but i am sending all my love to any readers out there living with a chronic illness, and here’s a reminder to go take your meds! ➠ author’s note: ok how could i NOT write a lil something about their time abroad ft. my bestie, your bestie, everybody’s bestie chenle still being a little menace ➠ series masterlist

You shrugged off his apology by grabbing him by the back of the neck and pulling his lips down to yours. Sungchan tasted like the ocean, like seabreeze and salt spray, and he happily hunched over to deepen the kiss, pressing your head back against the back of your chair.

Standing in the small regional airport of the little tropical town that you were staying in, you fanned yourself as you watched the sky out the window. The air conditioning was of course broken (not that you’d ever heard of a time that it was working), and you wished you could just stand straight on the tarmac as that would honestly be cooler.

After successfully defending his thesis and graduating with his PhD, Sungchan had (after discussing it with you) accepted an opportunity to join a team studying a tropical fish in its native habitat abroad for ten months, and you of course came with. It was a whirlwind of getting everything ready to move internationally in less than a month, and now that you two were finally sort of settled in, you were having your first visitor from back home.

Finally, you spotted the small prop plane descending, and literally bounced up and down in place with excitement as it landed, and you got a look at the four passengers deboarding right onto the runway. Your focus was on one in specific, as he fumbled with putting his sunglasses on as his hat nearly blew away in the strong winds.

As soon as he was in the doors, he spotted you with ease—there were only a few others waiting for their own family and friends—and you two nearly tackled each other with hugs.

“Chenle!” You squealed, squeezing him tightly.

“Y/N! Oh my god!” Chenle let you go, his chest heaving dramatically. “Did you see that landing? I thought we were going into the fucking ocean for a second. God, and the turbulence—I thought I was going to die, like typing my will in my notes app at 40,000 feet.”

“You’re too used to being spoiled with all those first-class international flights for work,” you scoffed, grabbing his rolling luggage as he kept his duffel bag on his shoulder.

“Business class,” he tried to insist as he followed you outside. “And really, is it too much to ask to not have my seatmate almost throw up on my shoes because the plane is convulsing like we’re in a cocktail shaker being thrown around by a flair bartender?”

“Oh no, did baby’s designer shoes almost get a little bit of commoner vomit on them?” You gasped teasingly.

“That is not what I—”

“Really brave for you to complain about getting somebody’s puke on your shoes.”

“That was one time sophomore year, I can’t believe you haven’t let it go,” he complained.

“And I never will,” you snickered, finally arriving at the small car that the research institute loaned out to the team for personal use. “Now come on, we’re getting brunch. Sungchan says hey by the way, and he wishes he could’ve met you at the airport too, but they had to go out on the boat early this morning. We’ll probably see him a little after lunchtime.”

“So what exactly are you two doing out here?” Chenle asked, reclined back in his seat and sipping on his second colorful cocktail of the day. “It’s absolutely gorgeous here, by the way, so if I were you, I wouldn’t give a shit what Sungchan was doing…”

You laughed, biting on the straw of your one and only drink. “He’s studying a tropical fish that’s only found in this region. Not really the whole fish, I guess, but apparently some of it could help cure human blood diseases. So that’s more the part that he’s interested in. His research head from his doctorate program recommended him for the spot on the team, and so far it seems like they love him.”

“And you’re just…?”

“Enjoying the view?” You replied sheepishly. “Been doing a lot of reading, exploring the area, trying to keep myself busy. His stipend is enough to support the both of us, and the research institute provides our housing and all those utilities, so I’m really just trying to keep busy while he’s out and about for the next… eight a half months?”

“I’d say you’re living the dream, but I know you…” Your friend pulled his sunglasses down just so you could see it clearly as he narrowed his eyes at you. “You’re going to get bored.”

“I’m enjoying the break! Really!”

“Tell me when you start writing an academic article out of boredom.”

“Well…”

“Already? You’ve been here for six weeks!”

“I haven’t started writing it, but I was re-reading the screenplay for M. Butterfly the other day, just something short, you know, and started taking some pretty rough notes about this idea that I’ve been turning over in my head for a while.”

He shook his head. “Of course you were.”

“I have to get a job when we go back, LeLe! I can’t be a stay-at-home girlfriend forever,” you tried to defend yourself.

“Sungchan would probably be cool with it.”

“After he made sure I wasn’t replaced by a robot, an alien, or suffered some kind of head trauma because he knows I’d go crazy like that.”

“I’m just saying…” Your friend gestured to the incredible view that the waterfront restaurant offered.

“Sounds like you want to be Sungchan’s stay-at-home girlfriend, Chenle,” you crossed your arms, raising an eyebrow.

He grinned mischievously. “Hell yeah, you two looking for a third?”

“You’re going to eat those words when you see the size of the apartment they put us up in.”

As soon as Chenle stepped over the threshold into your small one-bedroom apartment in town, he looked around, as if expecting more.

“You’ll be sleeping on the couch, sorry. Mine and Sungchan’s room is in there,” you pointed. “And the bathroom is connected, so we all have to share this week, sorry again.”

“You know, thanks for the offer, Y/N, but I don’t think I’m cut out for the throuple lifestyle.” He patted you on the back. “Good luck on your search, though.”

“Ungrateful little—” You cursed, grabbing his ear and yanking on it. “Wait until I tell your mom about this!”

“Tell my mom what?!” He yelped, jumping back from you and cradling his ear. He clearly wasn’t over taunting you either, though. “You want me to tell her that I rejected your throuple offer?”

“I’ll tell her it was your idea in the first place. She won’t even care about that when she hears about you rejecting my kind and selfless hospitality!”

He merely stuck his tongue out at you, and you stuck your tongue back out at him. With the situation essentially resolved, you two relaxed again, and he gave the apartment another lookover.

“It is really cute in here, actually,” he appraised. “How much of the décor is yours and how much came with the place?”

“Most of it came with the place, we couldn’t bring a whole lot, and we can’t buy too much while we’re here if we can’t bring it back.”

Reclined on the beach later in the day, you hummed contentedly at the cool breeze blowing over your warmed skin as you sat under the shade of an umbrella and some trees. You and Chenle had already swam around for a bit, and were taking a short rest back up on the shore.

“So when’s Sungchan allegedly supposed to appear?” Chenle asked, taking pictures of the incredibly blue water with his phone.

You checked your watch. “They left pretty early this morning, but he didn’t bring a lunch, so probably soon. Thirty minutes or less if I had to guess?”

“Hey, can I see that?”

“My… watch?” You held your left hand out to him, confused.

“No, this!” He smacked you in the face with the back of your own hand.

“Hey! What was that for?”

“Sorry, thought you couldn’t see it.”

“See what? How fucking dramatic you are? I’ve known that forever.”

“No, this!” That time he didn’t hit you with your own hand, but instead pointed to your bare left ring finger. “No ring?”

“No ring,” you confirmed calmly, yanking your appendage back from him so it couldn’t be used for evil again.

“Isn’t this the same guy who said ‘I love you’ on your first date or something?”

“Second.”

“Right, my bad, second date. And you two have been together for…” Chenle silently counted on his fingers. “…Six years?”

“I was worried for a second there at five. Thought you wouldn’t figure out how to get to your other hand.”

Chenle ignored your provocation, though, already on a mission. “Same guy who said ‘I love you’ on the second date hasn’t proposed in six years?”

You sighed, sitting up in your chair and leaning over the armrest towards him as if you two were conspiring on some plot. “I didn’t want to say anything but… we did pick out a ring before we left.”

“And you didn’t tell me?!”

“Got a little distracted with having to move to a new continent in like three weeks, sorry!”

“Did he bring it? Is he proposing here?”

“I don’t know! That part’s supposed to be a surprise!” You shoved him, laying back against your chair back again. “We had all the big talks and stuff, he has the ring somewhere—here, home, I don’t know—and now’s the surprise part: When it happens, how it happens, where it happens.”

“Alright, alright,” he held up his hands. “I rescinded my right to making decisions in the relationship when I left the throuple—”

You smacked him on the chest, “Shut up! Is that is now? It’s no longer rejecting an offer, you now were in our relationship, and left us?”

Chenle cackled. “Yeah, keep up, Y/N.”

“This is going to be the bit, isn’t it?” You deadpanned as he continued laughing. “The running bit for your whole week stay is going to be continuing to develop this nonexistent throuple lore?”

“I’ve got to keep myself entertained somehow.”

“Well, I’ll have to tell Sungchan that you left us, he’ll be devastated, I’m sure…” You retorted, knocking down the brim of your hat to cover your eyes. “I’m going to rest my eyes. Don’t get lost and don’t drown.”

“Heard.”

Just a few minutes later, and you heard the sound of a motorboat coming closer and closer, then the chatter of several familiar voices. The sound of shoes kicking through sand got nearer to your chair, then there was an even more prominent shadow over you, and you could sense someone hovering there. Right as you opened your mouth to say something, a drop of saltwater dripped off of whoever was standing over you and into it.

“Pfft!” You sputtered, shooting up in your chair and wiping your mouth as the newcomer burst into laughter.

“S-Sorry, baby,” Sungchan clutched his stomach, holding onto the arm of your chair for support. “Should’ve toweled off better…”

He was in a wetsuit that had been unzipped so that it only clung onto him from the hips down, the black material going down to just above his knees. His hair was clearly still damp, sticking up in crazy directions and he had that same excited, breathless smile he always had when running up to you after a boat day. His bag of personal effects and materials was on the ground by his feet, and you could see a towel crumpled up on top of that.

“Hey Sungch… Christ…” Chenle’s voice trailed off from somewhere further away. “You two know there’s other people on this beach, right?”

You reluctantly let Sungchan go, glaring at your friend. “And where the fuck did you go? I said don’t get lost.”

“I was in the water! Like right in front of you!”

“Hey, Chenle,” Sungchan greeted him enthusiastically like nothing had just happened, wrapping the smaller man in a big bear hug. “Glad you made it here in one piece, dude. How was your flight in?”

“Don’t rile him up…” You groaned, covering your face, but it was already too late.

“It was the scariest fucking thing I’ve ever experienced! We like, seriously almost crashed into the ocean. Like, actual water landing!”

As Chenle took over your shower early that evening, you and Sungchan went about your own tasks. He had to wash out all of his equipment that didn’t get taken care of at the marina and you put the finishing touches on Chenle’s makeshift couch-be. Sungchan stood directly under one of the lights at the sink in your kitchen—well really, it was more of a kitchenette, with a sink, a few cabinets, and minimal counter space that was taken up by a microwave and single plug-in electric burner, both of which couldn’t be plugged in at once for safety reasons and because the counter could only fit one at a time.

Glancing up from where you had just completed Chenle’s couch-bed, you furrowed your brow thoughtfully as you looked a bit harder at Sungchan’s complexion. Meandering over to lean against the counter next to him, you reaching up to gently tilt his head to expose it to the light better. Then, you grabbed his collar and pulled it to the side to take a peek at the skin of his shoulder. Sure enough, bright pink as well.

“Baby, you’re sunburned again,” you declared, letting go of his clothes.

“I let you put sunscreen on me this morning!” He protested, putting the last small piece of equipment onto the hand towel sitting on your counter.

“Did you reapply? That stuff’s not supposed to last the whole day, you know.”

With a slight pout to his bottom lip, he looked down into the sink guiltily. “I forgot…”

“Sit down, I’ll get the aloe from the fridge.”

He plopped himself down into one of the chairs around your tiny dining table just a couple steps away, pulling his shirt off and setting it on the surface in front of him. You grabbed the already near-empty bottle of aloe vera from the fridge then joined him.

Depositing a generous amount onto your fingers first, you then started applying it gently to the sun-tender areas of his shoulders.

“Ugh…” He groaned in relief, dropping his head forward into his hands. “Thank you, baby.”

“If I didn’t know any better I’d think you were doing this on purpose so you could have me doing this every night,” you replied teasingly, making sure you went down the pinkened skin of his back as well.

“Ooh, hey, that’s a good idea.”

“Sungchan…”

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding. I really do just forget, I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, yeah.” You started on his other shoulder. “Anyway, I was telling Chenle about that little place we like by the water, with those scallops you love. Sound good for dinner?”

“Sure, whatever you guys want. I’m ready to third wheel for the week.”

“He’s your friend too!” You insisted, pushing him back so you could access his also sunburned chest and face.

“But he was yours first, and you two are best friends.” He closed his eyes, a content smile spreading across his face. “Just happy to see you so happy, baby.”

Having finished his chest, you stole a peck from his lips before applying a small amount to his red cheeks and nose.

“God, I’m going to need to gouge my eyes out by week’s end!” Chenle had appeared in the open doorway to the bedroom, fully clothed and with a towel wrapped around his hair.

“And who was practically begging to be our third less than twelve hours ago?” You snapped back, carefully leaning your elbow on top of Sungchan’s hair to avoid all the sunburned areas you’d just tended to.

“Wait, what?!” Sungchan looked up at you, knocking your arm off his head.

“Don’t worry about it, I broke up with you two,” Chenle waved him off, dropping onto your couch. “So when’s dinner?”

➠ next | series masterlist | blog masterlist

#sungchan x reader #riize x reader #sungchan imagines #riize imagines #sungchan #sungchan imagine #riize imagine #nct x reader #nct imagine #nct imagines #jung sungchan #i: sungchan #f: ss&avk #s: buzzer beater #writing #text #mine #bias tag

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sluttywoozi · 2 years

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Beautiful Day, Sunday Morning | sleepover fic #3

special thanks to my bestie @sluttywonwoo for this gorgeous banner!

Pairing: Joshua x fem!reader

Prompt: okay so sleeping it off didn't work. let me consult my list. hypnotism, no. meditation, certainly not. well something has to work because I simply cannot be in love with them + friends to lovers request

Rating: M (MINORS DNI I’LL SCREAM SO LOUD AND BLOCK YOU)

Word Count: ~7000 (im not well)

Warnings: food cooking and eating, alcohol drinking, hurt/comfort (just a tad its me lbr), presex communication, panty stuffing but not really (you’ll see), fingering, pussy eating, josh cums on you, joshua likes to look, mentions of marks/bruises, loving respectful manhandling, reader has a WAP, aftercare, none of these are in order, i wrote this for like 9 hours straight and haven’t edited it yet bc its four am soooooo sorry bout that, if i missed anything message or inbox me im nice i swear

half of this is just story with some suggestiveness, so if you're not into sex you can still enjoy! it's p obvious when the smut starts

Joshua sighs, finding himself laying awake in bed for the third night in a row.

He’s seriously starting to feel like he’s going crazy, and the sleep deprivation surely isn’t helping, but there’s just no way. He absolutely refuses to accept this.

He’s tried everything he could think of.

Sleeping it off didn’t work, obviously. He meditated with Hao for hours on end, with no result. He let Soonyoung try to hypnotize him but all he got from that was a headache and a bruise on the cheek where the stopwatch swung into his face.

Joshua won’t give up though, can’t give up, because this is life or death. Something has to work and Joshua is willing to try anything, well, almost anything, if it means what he fears will be proven false.

He simply cannot be in love with you. He just can’t.

Not when your friendship is the most valuable of them all, not when your presence is like a hot salted caramel mocha on a blisteringly cold morning, not when you’re the person he always looks forward to seeing, the person he dreads leaving for even a day.

Sure, he sometimes thinks about you late at night, when he’s alone in bed. Sure, he turns people down at bars his friends dragged him to for the sole purpose of getting him laid, just because he likes your voice and your face and your soul and your body better. Sure, he often dreams of you and wakes up feeling lonely, passing his hand over the empty side of the bed and wishing you were there. Sure, the side he leaves empty is coincidentally the same side he knows you sleep on, but that doesn’t mean-

Oh. Wait.

Joshua is totally in love with you.

Well, what the fuck is he supposed to do now?

He lets himself thrash in bed a bit, digging the back of his head into the pillow and tensing his jaw, then takes a deep breath, moving out of tantrum mode and into solution mode.

Okay.

Option 1: Joshua avoids you for a while and hopes the feelings go away on their own.

He shakes his head, knowing immediately that won’t work because if he doesn’t text you for a day, you’ll just text him, and if he doesn’t respond, you’ll call, and he’ll pick up, because it’s you.

And then he’ll hear your voice and you might sound sad that he didn’t text you back and then he’ll be sad, and guilty, and desperate to make it up to you. Which will lead to him making you dinner and probably pushing you up against the counter and kissing you until he forgets about the pasta on the stove and then it’ll boil over and just be a huge mess, and Joshua hates messes.

Option 2: Joshua doesn’t avoid you, and hopes the feelings go away on their own.

No, that won’t work either, because being around you is what gave him these feelings in the first place and being around you will just make them worse. He’ll be able to look at you and touch you and listen to you and you’ll smile at him and squeeze his hand like you always do, and marvel at the size of it compared to yours, and then Joshua will only be able to think about crawling on top of you on the couch and holding your hands down with his and they’ll look so small and you’ll-

Joshua clears his throat, shifting his legs in the sheets and willing his mind to settle down.

Option 3: Joshua doesn’t avoid you, and doesn’t hope the feelings go away.

This option is intriguing, because it means Joshua will still get to be around you and he won’t have to shove anything down, like he’s apparently been doing for… fuck, has he been in love with you this whole time? Has it been literal years??

Joshua shoots straight up in bed, bracing himself on his hands and blinking the drowsiness away. His brows furrow as he thinks over every moment he’s ever shared with you, every time he’s caught himself staring at your lips or holding your hand or getting jealous of a date or glaring at one of his friends for flirting with you. It’s been so obvious, and he had no clue.

Has it been this obvious to everyone?

Shit. Has it been this obvious to you?

Joshua needs a second opinion, and doesn’t think twice about grabbing his phone and calling for backup.

Jeonghan sounds irritated and exhausted when he picks up on the fifth ring, and Joshua sucks in a deep breath before starting, “Jeonghan, I need you to be honest with me, this is very important. Did you know I’m in love with y/n?”

“Yeah, Shua, we all knew.”

Joshua swears to himself, it’s just like he feared.

“And when you say ‘we all-’”

“No, y/n doesn’t know,” Jeonghan groans with exasperation, “but if you don’t say it soon, I will. It’s fucking annoying watching you guys moon over each other all the time. And don’t even get me started on-”

“Wait. Each other?” Joshua holds his breath as he waits for confirmation, “Jeonghan, I need clarification on the ‘each other’ part.”

Jeonghan heaves a sigh before answering, like he’s millimeters from hiring an assassin.

“Yes, Joshua, each other. I’m hanging up now.”

“Jeonghan wait-” Joshua tries to get out, but he hears the dial tone and checks his messages to see Jeonghan has put him on do not disturb. That was that then.

Okay, Joshua can deal with this. He can figure it out, Joshua is good at figuring things out.

He shakes his head and pushes a breath out before biting his lip to stop the smile.

Each other. He can work with that.

“Joshie!” You throw open the door, beaming and grabbing his hand to pull him inside you-r apartment! Inside your apartment.

Joshua dramatically rolls his eyes, hiding his grin behind a smirk, and sighs out, “Not this again…” as if he’s not giggling on the inside at the way you’re tugging him to the kitchen.

“Please, you love when I call you Joshie and we both know it,” you respond with playful eyes and your own smirk.

Fuck, he sucks in a breath, how did he deal with your teasing before figuring out he’s in love with you? Because now, it’s just making him ha-

“So, I was thinking we could try out a new pasta recipe I saw on Instagram, it has tomatoes and goat cheese and garlic, and I got a new puzzle!”

You sound so cute, so excited, that Josh has to clear his throat and try to blink away the hearts in his eyes before he can even think of what to say.

“That sounds great! I hope a red will go with it?” Josh holds up the wine bottle with a hand that shakes only a little, the other still caught in yours, and tries to stop his mind from going to the events of Option 1.

It’s difficult though, when he spots the exact pot he envisioned on the stove, already filled with salted water and waiting to be boiled.

You squeeze his hand before detaching to grab the bottle from him and throw it in the chiller, and Joshua respectfully (and frankly, for his own survival) looks away from how your jeans mold perfectly to the shape of your ass when you crouch down to find room.

He does well enough while you’re cooking together, moving around each other in a dance that evidences years of practice, getting distracted only when you lean up over his shoulder to monitor his garlic chopping. You’re very particular about how your garlic is cut, and it was only recently you began allowing him the responsibility.

Joshua can admit now how much it meant to him when you passed him the knife with a trusting smile and eyes that screamed, don’t fuck this up, just a few months ago.

Managing to finish the garlic preparation with relative ease, Joshua starts looking around for the recipe you were talking about. Normally, you print it out and put it up on your fridge but the stainless steel is empty, except for the magnetic photo of him and you he bought you last year. Well, him and you and all of your friends, not that he’s looking at any of them.

No, Joshua only has eyes for you, and they follow you as you flit around your kitchen, sunlight catching on your hair and cheekbones, your hips swaying softly to the music flowing from your sound bar.

He’s forgotten what he was looking for, and he’s forgotten to pretend he wasn’t drinking in your every move, because you turn around and stop short, eyes wide at finding him staring at you so intently.

“Do you need something?” You ask, brows tilting up in confusion.

Joshua breathes in deeply, catching your perfume on the air amidst the roasting tomatoes and fresh garlic, and he shakes his head with a soft smile.

“No, I have everything I need,” you start to look more bemused, like you’re trying to figure him out, and Joshua rushes to finish, “except the recipe! Where’d you put it?”

“Oh!” You jump, running to the couch to grab your phone and pull up Instagram, “It’s just a video, it seemed simple enough so I was doing it from memory but I should’ve sent it to you, my bad!”

Your brows furrow as you start typing in his new handle, and Joshua stills your fingers with his, deciding he can afford to be just a tad more bold.

“My phone’s almost dead, actually. Could we just share yours?” Joshua tries to ask innocently, masking his ulterior motive of getting to be closer to you.

“Yeah, of course! Do you wanna charge your phone? I can go plug it in,” you offer helpfully, gesturing over your shoulder to your bedroom, but Joshua shakes his head.

“Nah, the only person whose texts I care about is here,” he says smoothly, locking his eyes with yours and reminding himself that Jeonghan said each other.

You hold his gaze, something he doesn’t recognize flashing through your eyes and your mouth scrunching to the side, like it does when you’re… hurt. You visibly shake it off though, shake him off, pulling away and turning to set the pot of water to boil.

Joshua can’t fight the frown, feeling distance between you and him that normally isn’t there, but he lets you take your space and works on figuring out what he’s done wrong. He can barely hear the simmering of the tomatoes and goat cheese in the oven over the roaring in his ears, as he takes in your tense shoulders and stiff posture from the other side of the counter. When he sees your ribs expand and then hitch, like you were trying to gather yourself, he decides you’ve had enough space.

So Joshua crosses the kitchen, laying a gentle, warm hand on your shoulder, and tries peeking at your face. You’re not crying, thankfully, but he can see your teeth gnawing at your lip and the fragile set of your brows, and he pulls you into his chest, wrapping you up tight in his arms.

“What’s wrong?” He breathes into your hair, tucking your head into his neck with the softest push he can manage.

Joshua waits as patiently as he can, but when the water comes to a boil and you still haven’t answered, he pulls away to add the penne and then leans against the counter, staring at you.

“Baby, please tell me what just happened. Did I say something wrong?” Joshua has called you baby since he met you, it’s just instinct by now, but it felt different now that he knows he’s in love with you. It felt… right.

But it just makes you tense up more, and now Joshua is more confused than ever. You’ve never cared about him calling you baby, you went with it from the start, and even started calling him Joshie in return.

“Shua… I just-”

“Joshie,” He interrupts, feeling his heart leap into his throat at the change in nickname. All of your friends call him Shua, you’re the only one he allows to call him Joshie, and he can’t stand hearing the alternative from you.

Joshua can feel his own brows pinching together, his arms coming up to cross over his chest, like that could protect him somehow.

You mirror him, bracing yourself against the stove before he lets a hand down to tug you away from the steaming pot of water, and he uses that hand to pull you closer, finding that he can’t make himself let go.

You’re staring at him now, and you seem to be considering something. He can tell by the set of your shoulders that you’re weighing things, and hears Jeonghan’s voice say each other in his head. And somehow, he knows that you and him are on the precipice of something.

Something great, Joshua hopes.

So he takes in another breath and takes a few short steps to stand in front of you, delicately framing your face in his hands and leaning in close. He stops just short of your lips, feeling the catch in your breath this time, and exhales against you, “Tell me to stop. Tell me this isn’t what you want.”

You don’t say anything, just stare deeply into his eyes, like you’re searching for something. You must find it, because you close the distance to press your lips against his, and Joshua feels something unlock in his chest and make extra space for you.

Joshua’s mind doesn’t wander too far, not with your mouth on his and your body heat against him, and he slides one hand into your hair. The other moves down to mold to your neck, his thumb tracing the edge of your jaw before resting on your pulse. He can feel your heart racing, sprinting just like his, and he drinks you in, sipping from your lips like you’re the finest wine he’s ever had.

He gets carried away quickly, turning with you in his arms to push you against the counter, sliding his tongue along your bottom lip, practically begging you to open up for him.

You do, with a sigh, and Joshua slips his tongue into your mouth to glide against yours. You taste… like nothing he’s ever had and he’s desperate for more already, tugging your mouth open further with a thumb on your chin. He licks into you, brushing up against your hard palate, sucking your tongue into his mouth, his moan vibrating against your lips. You swallow it, responding with a whimper, and Joshua’s hips kick into yours. He can feel himself getting harder, feel the heat gathering in his gut, and the hand in your hair drifts down to take your hip in a firm grip, kneading at your plush skin.

Joshua’s about to bring his other hand down and lift you up onto the countertop, dreaming already of spreading your thighs and grinding against you, pulling your jeans down, spreading you with his fingers and licking you open before slipping his cock inside where he just knows you’re wet and hot and soft and perfect, but you pull away.

You pull away, and Joshua tries desperately to follow you, but you breathe a laugh against his lips and push him from you with a hand to his chest.

He can feel his eyebrows furrowing, knows he’s panting and probably looking slightly undignified, but he doesn’t care. All he cares about is why you stopped kissing him and how to get you to start kissing him again.

“Too fast?” He asks nervously, hands squeezing at your hips without his permission, and he consciously loosens his grip so you can fully pull away if you so choose.

“No, Joshie, you’re perfect, it’s just-” you pause to catch your breath. “The pasta’s about to boil over and the timer’s been going off for like three minutes.”

His head whips around, seeing your microwave beeping and the water jumping out of the pot, penne far too close to the surface for comfort. He moves with you in tandem, you turning the burner down and shutting off the timer, Joshua grabbing a colander from the cabinet and draining the pasta in the sink. Turning to toss you oven mitts right before you open the oven, he remembers his prediction of Option 1 and can’t hold in the laugh.

The sizzling of the olive oil and roasted tomatoes covers the chuckle escaping him, and Joshua moves behind you to wrap his arms around your waist and set his chin on your shoulder, smooching the side of your head. Your skilled hands mash the mixture together and pour in a bit of the pasta water he’d remembered to reserve (thank God), the sauce coming together quickly. He detaches from you only when you ask him to bring over the pasta, and he carefully tilts the penne into the dutch oven as you stir, the scent of garlic and goat cheese and robust San Marzanos filling the air.

Joshua had been so wrapped up in you, he didn’t even notice he was hungry, but as he feels his stomach growl, he still can’t say he cares much about eating right now. Food, that is.

You’re adorably excited though, beaming at him with bright eyes and spinning on your toes to retrieve the wine he brought, so he turns and lifts your favorite bowls down from the cabinet, grabbing two sets of silverware along the way. You meet him at your dining table, grinning and setting down the fresh grated parm, and Joshua can feel his throat close a little as he imagines doing this with you each and every night.

The pasta was delicious, recipe bookmarked in your phone and already sent to Mingyu and Seokmin, and he washes dishes with you side by side. The cleaning goes quickly, barring the wine glasses you’re both still drinking from, but Joshua plucks yours from your hand just before you pour another glass and backs you up against the sink.

“Joshua, we always finish the wine,” your tone and the use of his full name betrays your befuddlement, but he won’t be swayed.

“Baby,” Joshua pauses to follow the shiver that runs down your spine with his hand, gaze tinted with want and fondness, before continuing, “If we finish the wine, you’ll get tipsy. There are a lot of things I want to do to you tonight, and I can’t do 75% of them if you’re out of it.”

Your eyes grow wide, lashes fluttering, and you nibble at the inside of your lip. It’s a bad habit of yours, and you’ve complained to him before of the sore spots that result sometimes, so he takes the opportunity to smooth his thumb over your lip and gently tug it free. Leaning in to slide his tongue along the seam of your mouth, Joshua breathes softly against you and waits.

You huff, and surge forward to capture his lips with yours, your hands flying up to curl around his neck and pull him closer. Joshua giggles into your kiss, squeezing his hands around yours before moving them to your hips to haul you up against him so you can feel how hard he is for you, already. You press back, and his giggles melt into a groan at the feeling of your body against his. He’s wondering if you’ll let him fuck you on your counter, but you cook a lot and you’ll probably think it’s unsanitary. Joshua considers the dining table next, but doubts it’s sturdy enough for all of his plans, and the couch is just unacceptable, there’s not nearly enough room.

You make the decision for him, pushing against his hips with your own and sliding your hands in his hair to physically pull his lips from yours. He pouts, letting you tug him away but also letting his cock press against you when the pull makes his hips buck.

“Let’s go, then,” you whine urgently, trying to move forward, but the pressure’s made Joshua’s brain fuzzy and he has no clue what you’re talking about.

“Go where?” Joshua asks, panting against you before shaking his head in an attempt to clear it.

“Go to bed, babe, let’s go to the bed,” you set your hands on his chest and push insistently, and Joshua’s nothing if not a gentleman, so it takes little thought to let you guide him to your bedroom.

What his lady wants, his lady gets.

Joshua can’t take his eyes off you as you whip your shirt over your head and toss it at the chair in the corner, but he gets his ass in gear when he sees your hands slide down your body to unbutton your jeans. He’s thought too much about undressing you to let you do it yourself, and his hands pull yours up to his abs, using the distraction to undo your jeans and start tugging them down.

He’s not as sneaky as he thought though, and blushes at your knowing smirk as he presses a kiss to your belly. But Joshua gets you back, with his fingers sliding under both sides of your panties to pull them up tight against you.

You’re wet already and Joshua’s vision tunnels as he stares at the damp spot between your legs, your folds outlined by the fabric with how taut he’s holding it. You squirm, but he’s not done looking, and he soothes you with fingers petting gently at the soft skin of your hips, taking you in for a few more seconds.

Joshua doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable though, figures you might need some time to get used to him in this setting, and he knows there’ll be plenty of nights (and mornings and afternoons) for him to look his fill. So tonight, he lets go of your panties and rises to take his shirt off, unbuckling his belt and dropping his pants to the floor. He can feel your eyes on him as he gathers up his clothes and your jeans, crossing the room to lay them on your chair before turning back to you with the corners of his lips quirked up.

He can sense your nervousness, and tries to figure out how to break the ice and remind you he’s your best friend. Smiling at you until his eyes squint, Joshua walks toward you slowly, then charges you when he’s a few feet away. You shriek and giggle when he leans down to wrap his arms around you and press the side of his face into your chest, tackling you onto your bed. Bouncing together, Joshua rolls until you’re sitting on him and he can feel your wet heat on his cock, seeping through his boxers and making his dick twitch. He swallows a groan, trying to maintain some semblance of composure, but he gives that up when you start rolling your hips against his.

“Baby,” Joshua moans out, pulling your hips harder against his. “Tell me what you like?”

He sets up a steady grind as you think, feeling you get wetter and wetter against his dick, but he can tell you’re getting distracted by the friction, and he needs to know what’s okay and what’s not okay before he takes you any further.

So, Joshua stills your hips with a firm grip and says your name with all the sternness he can muster when you’re practically soaking through his boxers.

You pout at him guiltily, petting his pecs in apology, “I like not being in charge. I like when you grab me like that, and I liked when you threw me on the bed.”

Joshua can feel the heat rush through him at your candor, rewards you with minute thrusts of his hips against yours, and confirms, “You want me to manhandle you a bit? Tell you what to do?”

You sigh at the thought, sagging against him and Joshua sits up against the headboard so you can brace yourself on his chest without having to lean down so far.

“Yeah, Joshie, I want that,” you breathe against his lips before pulling him into a kiss, and he can tell you’re trying to distract him to get out of talking more, but he can’t make himself care.

“We’ll talk more about this later, yeah?” Joshua asks, but you both know it’s not a question.

You nod into the kiss, sucking his tongue and starting to buck against him in a cute, needy way, and Joshua can’t hold off any longer.

He holds you gently by the back of your neck, wrapping the other arm around your waist, and you get the memo to stop moving just before he starts rising up on his knees. He spreads his thighs underneath yours, shifting up so you tilt backwards onto the bed until he can hold himself above you, unwinding his arm from your waist to hold your jaw in one hand. He presses one last kiss to your plush lips before pulling away to stare down at you.

Your eyes are hazy, your breasts heaving, and Joshua can see the strain in your thighs from how his knees are holding them open, putting the wet patch on your panties on full display. He smirks, smoothing one hand down your body to slide his thumb down your cunt, feeling your folds part further under the pressure.

You’re so wet, the fabric is practically translucent, and Josh is hypnotized by the glimpse of your cunt. He shuffles down to get a closer look, palm flat to your sternum when you try to follow him, and he can’t resist sinking his middle finger into you as deep as your panties allow. The fabric gives easily, stretching and following his finger inside to the first knuckle. You’re tight, even just with this, and Joshua knows he’ll have to open you up if you want his cock, revels in it.

Withdrawing his finger, he watches your cunt clench around the bit of fabric that remains inside, groaning out loud when he pulls and it comes out of you even wetter. He’ll have to buy you new panties, and maybe some bras, perhaps a set or two, and probably matching couples pajam-

You squirm, and Joshua looks up to check in, relaxing when he sees you’re just desperate for more. He decides he’s tortured you enough for one night, yanking your panties down, tossing them off the bed, and leaning in close to get his first look at your bare pussy.

You’re glistening, hips shifting against the sheets in anticipation, and Joshua’s already thrown one leg over his shoulder before he asks, “Can I eat you out?”

You nod before he’s finished talking, but you should know by now that you’ll have to tell him, so he just stares, flicking his eyes between yours and your pussy.

Your eyes roll skyward in embarrassment and agitation, the back of your head pushing into your pillow, and you force out, “Yes, you can, please do.”

“That’s all you had to say, baby,” Joshua responds, a touch condescendingly and more than a touch smug, lifting your other thigh onto his shoulder and smoothing his hands around your hips to hold your pelvis down.

His first taste has him opening his mouth wider, wishing he could swallow you whole, but for now he’ll content himself with pushing his tongue as far inside you as it can go. You’re soft, and so hot, and soaking wet, and immediately Joshua knows he’d do this every day, if you’d let him. Wake you up with his head between your thighs and put you to bed with his tongue inside you, if he could. Live and breathe and die in your pussy, if you’d allow it. He thinks you just might, with the way you’re trying to buck up against his hands, your eyes closed and breathy whines escaping your open mouth.

In the future, Joshua will make you keep your eyes on him, but for now, he couldn’t care less. All he cares about is getting as much of you in his mouth as he can and making you cum on his tongue as soon as you can take it. He’s relentless, sucking your clit into his mouth, laving over it, pinching it between his lips, getting you wetter and wetter until you’re drenching his face and the sheets. You’re still trying to grind against him, which is cute, honestly, but Joshua’s not letting you move, not unless you tell him to stop.

He shifts to band one arm across your stomach, digging his fingers into the fleshy part of your hip, anchoring you to the bed, and brings his hand to your cunt to slide one finger inside. You’re not as tight as before, and Joshua sighs against you in relief before starting to nudge another finger at your entrance, looking up at you and waiting for the breathy yes yes yes to sink it in next to the first. His fingers are big, much thicker and longer than yours, and you take a second to adjust. You’re already squeezing at them though, pussy trying to suck them in deeper, so he follows until his knuckles brush against you, and curls his fingers up when he bottoms out.

(He’s a bit too deep to get at your g-spot, but you enjoy the motion nonetheless and open your mouth to beg for more right when Joshua suctions his plush lips around your clit again and you’re almost almost almost-)

“Fuck, Joshie, please! Please, please, please I’m right there,” you whine, hands flying down to push his head into you, fingers tangling in his hair, and Joshua has to press his hips into the bed to get his cock to stop jumping. He knows he’s leaking precum, will have to change the sheets after he gets you in the bath, but you’re just so fucking hot, he can’t help it.

He does want to make you cum though, needs to, so he starts spreading his fingers, opening you up for a third, and sucks harder at your clit until you break, back arching, mouth open in a silent scream. He keeps going, fucking his fingers in and out of your sopping wet pussy and tonguing your clit in pulses, until you push his head again, away from you this time.

Joshua releases your clit from his mouth but keeps his fingers inside, spreading them wider against your throbbing walls, and asks, “Wanna go again?”

You stare at him with wet lashes, your breasts rising and falling with your breaths, and he’s almost distracted enough to move up your body and suck your nipples into his mouth, wonders if he can get both at once if he pushes your tits together enough, thinks about digging his fingers into the plushness, thinks about the bruises he could nip into them, but you respond and pull him from his thoughts.

“I think it might kill me, but yes,” you exhale, sounding tired but so needy still and Joshua loves you, he loves you so much, and he really hopes you don’t notice when he spells it on your clit with his tongue, followed by his name, then yours with Hong tacked onto the end. He doesn’t think you do, because you’re moaning, near crying with pleasure, and he hasn’t even started moving his fingers again yet.

Which he rectifies immediately, pushing them into you with more force this time, spreading you open and shoving his tongue inside to lick at your walls. The hand grasping your hip shifts, fingers moving to press down on your clit, rubbing small, quick circles. Your wetness is seeping out around his fingers, dripping into his mouth and down his chin onto the bed, and he knows he needs to make you cum soon if he doesn’t want to push you into the unpleasant kind of overstimulation.

He pulls his hand out slightly, and you cry out at the loss, trying to buck your hips up and get him deep again, until he finds your g-spot and grinds into it with the tips of his fingers. Hooking his digits inside of you, Joshua rubs incessantly at the rough patch, fucking into you and suctioning his lips around your clit until you clench so tight he doesn’t bother moving them, until you break apart with a wail. You gush, wetness flooding out and soaking the lower half of his face, and Joshua feels his eyes fluttering shut as he drinks you in.

Your thighs shake on his shoulders, your stomach trembling as you try to get air into your lungs, and his tongue laps at your clit until you push his head away again, for good this time. Joshua doesn’t go far, still breathing you in and feeling your cunt throb around his fingers.

Your hand pets at his head before it slips from his hair, flopping down onto the bed as your eyes close heavily. You’re not asleep, and you haven’t passed out (he thinks), so he just lets you catch your breath and wipes his face off with one hand, pulling the other from you slowly before shifting your thighs off his shoulders and sitting up on his knees between your splayed legs.

Joshua wants to put his hands on you, smooth them up your body to squeeze your tits then cradle your face, but he has other plans for the slickness leftover on his palms.

He tugs his boxers down with a pinky, cock bobbing out, and waits for your eyes to open before saying softly, “Baby, I’m not fucking you tonight,” you shoot him a sleepy frown, bottom lip pushing out just a bit before he continues. “But can I cum on your pussy? I’ll rinse you off and run a bath after.”

Your pupils get even bigger, nearly blocking out the color of your irises, and you smile serenely at him with bleary eyes, wrapping your hands underneath your thighs and pulling them up so you’re spread open for him.

Fuck, Joshua’s so fucking gone for you.

He can feel more precum seeping out of the head of his cock, feel how his boxers stick to his thighs from a combination of you and him, and he can feel the shudder roll all the way from his scalp to his toes at the first touch of his hand on his cock. His palm is slick, wet with you, and he stops himself from dipping back into your pussy for more, knowing you’re sensitive.

You’ve given Joshua more than enough to work with anyway, more than he used to get on those lonely nights where all he had was the thought of you, and as he takes in your still fluttering cunt, takes in the fuckdrunk look on your face, takes in the scent of your pussy on the air, he already knows he’s close.

His body doesn’t know yet, but it’s catching up quick. His stomach is tensing, his chest rapidly expanding with his panting, his balls tightening more and more the longer he gazes at you. Joshua can’t contain his sounds, lets the grunts and groans fall into the air, whining your name when he glides one palm over the head of his cock and squeezes down at the base with the other. He just needs a little bit more, just a li-

“Cum, Joshie, please cum, I wanna feel it,” you ask sweetly, urgently, and he swears, feeling his cock jump in his hands as hot cum spills out, painting your pussy white and dribbling down your folds. His hearing goes fuzzy, white noise filling his mind, and he clenches his eyes shut, cumming harder than he has in… years?

Joshua opens his eyes to see your entrance clench, tightening around nothing, and he barely resists the urge to drop back down onto his stomach and push his cum inside of you, fuck it into your cunt with his fingers and then fuck it deeper with his dick, stay buried in you until he’s hard and do it all over again.

But you’re tired, and he’s tired, and he catches your wince when you let your thighs down.

Joshua reaches over to snag a tissue from the box you keep next to your bed, and wipes his hands off before smoothing them up your thighs to knead at where your pelvis connects with your femurs. You had your legs open for a while, then up, and he doesn’t want you to be sore tomorrow, so he pulls back, lifting you into his arms and carrying you into the bathroom. He sets you down on the counter, starting the shower and wiping your pussy off gently with a damp washcloth before handing you a clip so you can get your hair out of the way.

“Can we take a bath tomorrow? I just wanna snuggle and go to bed,” you request, voice thick with sleep and raspy from the orgasms, and Joshua feels his heart swell. His teeth poke out of the smile he shines at you, and he gathers you up into a hug, rubbing your back and picking you up off the counter to walk you into the shower. He can feel your breath leave you in a contented sigh, and you lean your head against his chest as he spreads suds up your back, his hands drifting over your skin gently and massaging out any knots he finds.

You’re dozing against him when he drops to his knees to wash your lower half so he leans you against the shower wall, keeping one hand on your hip to make sure you don’t fall over. Making quick work of himself, Joshua shuts off the shower and wraps you up in a towel, patting his hands over your limbs to dry you off as much as he can. You’re a bit more awake now that you’re out of the heat of the water, and he dries himself off roughly before helping you tug your robe on and ushering your slightly shivering form into your bedroom. You’re walking fine, but Joshua keeps his hands on you anyway, doesn’t see a reason not to, and tries to pretend he’s not giddy at the thought of picking out your pajamas and falling asleep next to you.

He escorts you to the bench at the end of your bed, makes sure you’re sitting securely, and turns to your dresser to get something for you to sleep in.

“Just gimme your shirt,” you mumble, leaning back against your bed and pulling your knees to your chest, and Joshua short circuits for a second, imagining you in his clothes. It’s time to sleep, he chides himself, when he feels the blood rushing down to his dick, and speeds over to grab his tee from the chair. It’s huge on him, and he knows you’ll look adorable in it even before he tugs it over your head, and fuck, does he love being right.

He questions you about undies and follows your finger to the top drawer, pulling out the first pair his fingers touch so he doesn’t linger, and guides them up your legs. You stand and pull them the rest of the way on yourself, before climbing right up onto your bed and holding a hand out.

Joshua tries his best to keep his cool, but he’s just a little too excited to burrow under the covers with you, and your body rolls towards him when he hops into the bed. He pretends he planned it though, pretends he was continuing his bit from earlier, when he bodychecked you into the mattress, and he’s pretty sure he’s gotten away with it until you giggle and tap his nose.

He scoffs into the space between him and you, then pulls you closer until there’s none left, dropping a kiss on each of your cheeks, laying one on your forehead, and gently pressing his lips to yours as his final goodnight kiss.

“Oh!,” Joshua remembers, shifting up onto an elbow to stare down at you, “And in case it wasn’t obvious, I’m deeply, madly, embarrassingly in love with you.”

You blink up at him with exhausted eyes, smiling and placing a palm on his cheek to pull him down into one more kiss, before winking at him and whispering, “Same.”

You’re asleep before Joshua’s gotten over his disbelief, but he just grins, realizing it’s Saturday, and he’ll get to wake you up with his favorite song, crooned directly into your ear.

AN: im too sleepy to do a real an rn but whoever requested this ily so much and to all of my followers ily so much too and i'll see you tomorrow muah

tagging: @lenireads @confusedbansheee @junhui-recs @burningupp-replies @heeseung-lover686 @favehoshiposts @gyvswhore @jaysawake (unable to tag) @1004luvangel @bangchanbabygirlx @baldi-2 (unable to tag) @monamonay @dontyouthinkiknowwhoiam @just-here-to-read-01 @gaebestie

find my masterlist here

okay im gonna go to bed bye

#joshua smut #joshua x you #joshua x reader #seventeen x reader #seventeen smut #seventeen #✨emily writes✨#emily feels like she's going insane #emily is very tired #emily has hurt her own feelings #seventeen x you #✨emily's sleepover✨

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lazyneonrabbitt · 9 months

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Sergei pt.2

Part one | Kraven x Reader

Your bestie finds out about your big cat man boyfriend.

Ever since you met the man who came to kill you, your ability to care better for yourself had finally shown itself. In the form of Sergei sending you money and giftcards to expensive boutiques in your neighborhood.

His visits had been sparse with your home being in Spiderman's main area and he couldn't just drive up to your place and parade himself around without being spotted.

He still visited, taking a different car each time, checking any and all social media pages so he could steer clear of his location.

You loved his visits. Every time he’d show up with treats and toys for the cats. Usually he’d call you to ask what you wanted for lunch or dinner and let you know when he’d arrive. At first he would never stay the night, afraid of being found and putting you in danger but this morning you had woken up on your couch, tangled in Sergei’s limbs as the sunlight shone through the windows.

Right now you were sitting around your coffee table again. You had done a quick breakfast run to the bakery across the street and when you returned Sergei had already brewed a fresh pot of coffee. One of the first things he had bought you was a stupidly expensive coffeemaker and a large box of supplies to easily make your beloved expensive drinks at home whenever you wanted, as soon as he learned that was where most of your leftover money went towards.

He had also bought you this huge, squishy lion plush that went everywhere around the apartment with you and was currently back to living on the couch behind you, after spending the night on the table you currently sat at.

“For when I’m not around.” He had said when you video called him. He had left you the instructions to either send him a video or call him whenever you’d get a git from him so he could see your reaction even when he wasn’t with you.

The two of you happily enjoyed breakfast together and cleaned up before refilling all he cats’ food and water bowls. You worked well around each other and planned your day while you both did your things and had decided to just stay here and do nothing, hang out on the couch with some snacks and TV. It was good for Sergei to unwind and not think about life for once, and having you with him worked as a great distraction. Such a great distraction, that halfway into the second episode of your show he had half laid down against the armrest of the couch, one leg up against the backrest and one hanging off the seat, with you sprawled over him like a ragdoll, but still holding Kraven the lion. With one hand he was rubbing lazy circles on your back while the other rested on the stuffed lion’s head, fingers playing with its mane. You were lying if you’d say you knew what the last thing said on the show was, as you were way too distracted by how beautiful Sergei looked with the sunlight casting a glow around his curls and making his eyes look almost like a glowing orange.

He caught you staring a while ago but decided to ignore it until now when he peeked down at you, looking you straight in the eyes. He let out a breathy laugh and without a warning hoisted you up so he could properly sit you down on top of him, Kraven still held close to your chest. Sergei looked up at you, down to the stuffed lion and back to you again. You took the hint and leaned over, your chest an inch away from his face as you went to place the lion on the chair next to you. When you moved back you were pulled against him, a pair of strong arms around you and soft lips on yours. You hummed as one of his hands went to the small of your back and the other played with your hair. Yours had found his curls almost immediately, tugging at them and deepening your kiss.

A squeeze to your side made you jump and break the kiss, sitting up, your hips right on his. Taking one look at each other you both laughed. He apologized for accidentally tickling you a you leaned back on his legs that were hanging off the armrest of the small couch he barely fit on like this. He put his hands behind his head with a stupidly handsome smirk on his face, looking at you like he was trying to say ‘I know you’re enjoying the view.’ And yeah, you were enjoying it for sure. You placed your hands on his chest, shamelessly squeezing like he would do to you whenever he’d walk up to you from behind. He returns the gesture before grabbing your hips and grinding you down on him, letting out a satisfying growl.

You were staring down at him with a soft smile, the show on TV turned into low, barely there background noise. “what are you thinking about, my little rabbit?” He had quirked up one brow and returned your smile with a half one.

With a blush you look away, feeling almost embarrassed to admit. “I’m just happy.” Your hand moved to rest on his cheek. “Haven’t felt that in a long time, until you showed up.” Your voice was barely above a whisper but he heard you clear as day, placing a hand on your cheek and guiding you down towards him and pull you into a kiss.

The kiss was soft and sweet at first, slowly getting more intimate as his hands started grasping at any part of you that he could reach. You could feel the growl rumbling in his chest as he held you close to him. Your hands found his hair and gave it a good pull with both hands causing him to groan into the kiss, parting his lips for you to slip your tongue past them.

Things had gotten intimate with Sergei before, but this felt different. The way he held you close and the intensity of the kisses. It sounded stupid in your head but you wanted more. Your sighs and moans only spurred each other on more, one of his large hands on the small of your back, holding you against him as he kept grinding up into you making you think he was hoping to do more than make out today.

Your intimate moment was cut short when your front door was opened without any warning, your best friend standing in your living room out of the blue. You both shot up at the sudden intrusion, you staring at your friend, Sergei staring at you in shock and your friend looking between the two of you and dropping whatever she held in panic.

“What the hell?” She had backed up against your door, hand fumbling to find the doorknob and failing as she did not dare to look away, afraid the man in front of her would attack.

You had crawled off Sergei’s lap while he sat up as well, giving you a look asking what the plan was. You looked back at her, one hand had found her phone. “What are you doing?” On her phone was the app you had gotten for emergencies, broadcasting your location in case you needed saving. “Please don’t press that button,” the look on your face must have said enough as her thumb moved away from the screen, holding her hand up to show you.

By now Sergei had gotten off the couch and walked over to the dropped papers now all over your floor. He gathered them up to give them a quick look but stopped as he realized what he was holding. He picked them all up and rose again, standing only a foot away from your now terrified friend.

“Why do you have this?” He clutched the files in his hand, holding them up to her face as he snarled. He turned back to you now. “Why does your friend have detailed files on me?” He stepped over to you.. “Do you have these as well?” He drops the papers in your lap for you to look at. You rifle through them, taking in the images that are clearly security cam footage screen grabs. Timeframes included tell you these are from his visits. So he had been spotted, even with how careful he had been. You had talked about what to do if something like this ever happened, but you never really got to a proper answer. Your only options were either killing or leaving and you didn't want to do either, you loved this area and there was no way you’d let him kill your friends. With tears in your eyes you looked back to your friend, still standing frozen at your door. “Can you please talk?”

Your sudden change had Sergei shift his focus back you caring for you rather than eliminating the threat that was your friend who now knew who he was and had seen him with you. He leaned against the couch’s backrest and turned to listen to your friend’s explanation.

She sighed and looked down at her feet, starting her story.

What you had expected was true, Spidey had spotted Sergei in town on multiple occasions, but didn’t have any evidence of him actively hunting someone so he found there was no reason to engage for now but he did feel like he had to warn his close ones in case he was planning something. Clearly he didn’t know of the original reason he came here that first time, otherwise a fight would have happened already. Luckily he threw that plan out the window when his first target turned out to be, well, you.

“So, yeah.” She sighed, nervously looking between the two of you and praying her words were good enough to not end up beheaded and put on a wall like a hunting trophy.

When she was with Spidey he had given her the papers and they talked about the dangers of them spending time together as there were, according to him, always enemies watching.

“What were you doing with him then, anyways?” You interrupted her continuation with a suspicious look. A blush crept up her face as she stumbled over her words. “We.. we’re friends,” she shrugged nonchalantly. “Friends can hang out.”

You rolled your eyes at her, immediately reading through her lies. “yeah, of course you were hanging out just to talk about the dangers of hanging out.” You gestured grandly as you spoke. “He could have emailed us those files, but h went through the effort of having them printed so you had an excuse to see each other, i get it.” you shrugged back at her. “I don’t care that you guys are fucking but I wear if you tell him about any of this,” You wave your finger between you and Sergei, who had just been standing there, watching how you were going to handle this whole thing. “I will send him to go put your head on Spidey’s wall.” It was clear it wasn’t an empty threat, but she also knew that if you both agreed to keep your partners’ names out of your mouths like true friends would, there would’t be a single problem. So that’s what you did.

Her very chaotic visit ended with you all making an agreement and rehearsing her ‘I gave her the files, she said she’d be careful. Your app is still on her home screen.” speech before heading back home.

#sometimes i write #kraven the hunter #sergei kravinoff #kraven x reader #kraven imagine #sergei kravinoff x reader #kraven the hunter x reader #atj #aaron taylor johnson

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theteasetwrites · 2 years

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Go Get Him | Part 2

❧ Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Female Reader ❧ Era: Season 10 ❧ Pronouns: she/her ❧ Warnings: SMUT—oral (female receiving), teasing, edging, premature ejaculation (lol), sub!Daryl (ish), idk straight people sex what else do I say, swearing ❧ Word Count: 8.1k

❧ Summary: Daryl hasn't made love to you since your first time together. It's hard to imagine that he doesn't love you, but you fear perhaps you scared him away with your forwardness. That theory is disproven when he arrives at your door, like a lost, lovesick puppy.

❧ A/N: Second part to Go Get Him! Sorry this took so long, I have been busy moving and also doing grad school and trying to find a job and also just generally dealing with my family which is lowkey a pain in the ass but yeah here's the sequel, which is basically just... I mean basically this whole thing is sex. If you enjoy Daryl being a pathetic horny simp then this is for you. Also I was going to actually have them bake a peach pie and then have them like play with the food lmao but that was too much work because I would've had to look up how to make a peach pie and bestie I just wasn't gonna do that. There are still remnants of that tho with the peach thing so there's that.

If you didn’t know any better, you’d say you were a little too in love with him. Well, you always knew you loved him, but in love? Deep, sickeningly potent, noxiously passionate, nearly burdensome, love. Even now, grinning rather foolishly at the bracelet he’d made for you from multicolored twine, you felt your heart flutter in your chest, like the movement of the vibrant ruby-throated hummingbird making its daily rounds at the nectar feeder outside your living room window.

Since that day you told him how you felt, and gotten to know each other much more intimately on the sofa you sat upon now, you hadn’t stopped thinking about him once. It was a week ago now, but it had felt like an eternity—an eternity of wondering what he was up to, holding his hand any chance you could get, asking him if he wanted to come over… And he hadn’t, not since then.

You hadn’t had a private moment with him since that day, and you began to worry now. Maybe it didn’t mean as much to him as you thought it did, but he had said he loved you, and you knew that couldn’t be just a casual statement for Daryl. He was more intentional than that, more careful with his words, which he used rather sparingly. You knew him well enough to know that his word was strong, just like him. He never said anything unless it had meaning.

And he was busy. He was always so damn busy. It was a miracle you had a chance to get him alone in the first place. Still, he hadn’t shied away from you, not like he often did before. The change in your relationship seemed to be forming gradually, despite the abruptness of last week’s midday tryst. You liked it that way, though. You might’ve known Daryl for seven years, but you hadn’t known him this intimately before, so it made sense to take things a little slow after that initial rendezvous, but you had to admit, you thought about it a little too much.

It was hard not to. After all, he might not have been your first sexual experience, far from it, but he was by far the best, not necessarily because of his technique, but because of the feelings that had been growing deep inside of you for so long. He was shy and innocent, and yet somehow sloppy and wild, in his lovemaking, and you liked it. With time, you were sure he’d learn exactly how to please you, and you were sure you’d figure out his needs and desires, too, but that couldn’t be done if Daryl didn’t at least try to find time to make love to you.

All he’d done was peck your lips gently and quickly, hoping no one else would see, and hold your hand with loosely curled fingers, so he could quickly jerk it away if anyone saw. Still, he looked at you in a new way, you could see it in his eyes. They were more relaxed, hazy, almost as if he’d just been lulled into a dream. You didn’t know it, of course, but you were in that dream, and he thought about that day perhaps even more than you did. It consumed him, every waking moment spent wanting to get your hands on him again, wanting to taste even the smallest morsel of the sweetness between your legs, wanting to bury himself in the deepest part of you until your shaking body squeezed around him, drawing him closer and closer to the greatest pleasure he’d ever felt.

And yet he still was afraid to make the wrong move, to touch you when you didn’t want to be touched or to even hurt you if he moved too wildly, as he was prone to do. As much as he wanted to admit otherwise, he was waiting on your beck and call, not being too forward until he knew what to do, and he still knew very little.

It seemed you were at an intimate impasse, a sexual stalemate. You were waiting for Daryl to make the next move, and yet he was too afraid of making the wrong move. Perhaps you’d have to light a fire under his ass—let him know that you belonged to him now, and that he could have you any time, any day. At this rate, you weren’t sure you could go much longer without him knowing that.

Rosita’s weight plopping down beside you stirred you from your thoughts, tearing your eyes from the simple bracelet he’d given you the other day as you prepared to focus on something other than Daryl.

“When did you come in?” you asked, though you knew you were close enough to Rosita to figure she’d let herself in without knocking.

She leaned her elbow on the back of the couch to prop up her tilted head, then let out a huff of air as her other hand rubbed her forehead in exhaustion. “Baby’s got me running on three hours of sleep,” she said. “Left her with Eugene… Needed words of encouragement.”

You smiled in bittersweet understanding, patting her knee as you straightened up to look at her. “You’re doing great,” you said. “Best mom I know. Coco’s a lucky little baby.”

“She’s restless too,” she added. “Don’t ever have a baby if you value your sleep schedule, that’s all I’m saying.”

You scoffed and shook your head with a smile of amusement. “Mm, as if that could even happen.”

Rosita raised an eyebrow as her head perked up from the cradle of her hand. “What about that afternoon delight last week?” You felt her finger teasingly poke your side. “You’re sexually active now.”

“Yeah, well I’m starting to wonder if he really meant what he said.”

Her smile wilted. “What, when he said ‘I love you’? He must’ve meant it, (Y/N). I mean, he made you that bracelet.”

You shrugged as you fiddled with the colorful twine on your opposite wrist. “That doesn’t mean he loves me. If he really loved me he’d spend more alone time with me. I don’t know, maybe I’m too needy. Maybe he needs space…” You looked seriously at Rosita, with slight panic in your eyes. “Do you think I was too forward? Do you think I scared him off? I mean, maybe I was too… dominant. I don’t know, I just…”

She shook her head and sighed. “You did nothing wrong. Besides, he hasn’t been completely avoiding you. He’s just busy, (Y/N). You happened to pick one of the most important guys in Alexandria, so of course he’s going to have a lot of stuff to do… besides you.”

“I know, I know… But what if he didn’t like the sex? Maybe it was too much. What if I overwhelmed him?”

You had spared Rosita the gory details of the sex, but she knew the jist of it, how you had been the more dominant one, and how Daryl was… inexperienced. You also spared Daryl the embarrassment of telling anyone he was a virgin, since he seemed quite ashamed of that fact himself.

“You’re overthinking,” replied Rosita. “He’s probably just being Daryl.”

Being Daryl, you thought. Shy, quiet, aloof, insecure…

“He’ll come around,” she continued. “Let him come to you. Make him show you how much he wants you.”

That appealed to you, the idea of Daryl practically crawling on his knees in desperation for you and your body, upon which you did feel his eyes roaming on more than one occasion since last week.

So you waited a while, a few more days, until Daryl would show up at your door on his own volition. You still found time to tease him like you’d always done, bending over in his direction with a particularly low-cut blouse on, or making prolonged eye contact as you trailed your fingers down his arm. If you hadn't been in public, he might’ve done something.

He might’ve lost all control and lowered to his knees until his face met the junction of your thighs, where an intoxicating warmth was heating his cheeks and drawing him closer to the proverbial pot of dripping golden honey beneath your dress.

He might’ve buried himself between those thighs, allowing all of his senses to be completely engulfed by that center of gravity he’d encountered once before. He could practically feel your fingers lacing firmly through his hair, pulling him closer despite no space existing between his mouth and the fabric draped over your body.

In desperation, he might’ve lapped at nothing, instead tasting that fabric and wettening it with his saliva as he silently begged to lift your dress, himself still a little shy to do such a thing. The longer he waited for your permission, which you purposefully held back, the more fervent he became, nearly sending you stumbling backwards as his nose and mouth buried themselves further between your clothed thighs.

That was all in his head, though, as he lacked the courage to do it.

Until one day, in the late afternoon of a particularly warm spring day, he worked up the courage to climb those steps up to your front door, planning on letting you know that he hadn’t stopped thinking about that day last week, that it consumed every inch of his body and soul. That, and in his hands was a basket of freshly picked peaches. He knew you usually picked them yourself, but he figured the least he could do was do the labor for you.

Surely he could find the courage to kiss you as soon as you opened that door, to be spontaneous and passionate just like you, but when the door did open, he froze, finding himself almost as clueless as he was before.

“Hi, Daryl,” spoke Rosita, holding baby Coco on her hip. All his confidence began to wither away, his plans foiled and his words stuck in his throat. “I was just heading out. I’ll get (Y/N). Come on in.”

She and the cooing baby led him to the kitchen, where he awkwardly sat at the counter as Rosita climbed up the stairs to find you folding your laundry on the surface of your bed. “Who is it?” you asked.

Rosita’s lips quirked in a crooked, slightly devilish smile. “Your gentleman caller.”

You dropped the sock you had been turning inside out. “Daryl?” you gasped in surprise. “He’s here?”

“I told you he’d be back,” she said in a sing-song voice, bouncing Coco with the rhythm of her words. “I’ll leave you two alone. I’ve gotta put this one to bed anyway.”

Your eyes darted around for a moment, a million thoughts running through your head as your heart began to race at the idea of spending time alone with Daryl again. A part of you might’ve been slightly annoyed that he’d been avoiding that alone time with you, but maybe he’d just have to prove how sorry he was to you.

“(Y/N)?”

“Hm?”

“Jesus, you’re already dicknotized.”

With a quick kiss to Coco’s forehead, you sent Rosita back downstairs before you, and as she passed Daryl on her way to the door, she swore she saw a condom poking out of his back pocket, but maybe it was just her imagination.

Soon, you were practically skipping down the stairs, though you made a point to calm yourself before Daryl saw you, in the hopes that you’d appear much more seductive, though it didn’t take much effort, since Daryl was immediately seduced, as he always was.

“Hi, handyman,” you said, voice more husky and lower than usual.

He cleared his throat and quickly stood to his feet, despite not being entirely sure why he did so. Perhaps to give you a standing ovation of sorts, to recognize how perfect you were to him. Surely any unworthy mortal such as himself would need to pay his respect and admiration to a goddess like you.

He must’ve stood too fast, as the headrush that surged through him was enough to send him stepping backwards to catch himself. You’d only ever seen him this nervous last week, which surely must’ve been a good sign.

You couldn’t help but smile at his shakiness, and in an attempt to rid himself of embarrassment, he uttered a halfhearted chuckle under his breath, rubbing his clammy hands up and down his jeans as he stepped forward.

“Hey,” he said, clearing his throat immediately after. “I, uh… hope I ain’t interruptin’ anything.”

You stepped closer, too, until you were only a foot or so away. Close enough for him to smell that intoxicating perfume, and to feel the heat of your body radiating off his skin.

His eyes roamed unavoidably to your lips, the natural gloss catching the light of the dining room chandelier. As if you knew he was focused on them, you parted your lips to breathe a husky sigh, as your half-lidded eyes wandered to the small patch of chest hairs blooming at the collar of his shirt.

“No, no. You could never interrupt anything. I always have time for you.” You ventured to step closer, taking one hand in yours to raise it to your mouth, eyes glued to his as your lips just grazed the back of his hand. Anything more than that was too much now—if he wanted you, he’d have to either take you himself, or beg for you. “Do you need something, baby?”

He swallowed hard, trying to lubricate his dry throat enough to produce some kind of words that wouldn’t be too gravelly to understand. In the tone of your voice, and in the way you brushed your lips back and forth on his hand, you were sure you were being obvious, but when he spoke, you knew you’d have to try even harder.

“Just wanted to see you,” he said. “Wanted to, uh… I missed you.”

You tilted your head and smiled sweetly. As much as you wanted him, you had to admit that just his innocent sweetness was a gift in and of itself. “I missed you, too. It feels like we haven’t been alone since…” You trailed off with a laugh. “Well, you know.”

He licked his lips and averted his gaze to his feet, in slight shame of his inability to make more time for you. “M’sorry,” he said. “Just been busy, s’all. Plus I… ain’t really used to this whole thing.”

“What whole thing?”

“Ya know… Havin’ my own woman.”

You laughed at his turn of phrase. “You mean, you’re not used to being in a relationship?”

“Mhm,” he mumbled as he chewed his lip. “That’s what it is, right?”

“Of course,” you replied. “I mean, if that’s what you want it to be. I know it’s what I want it to be.” You stepped closer again, raising your hand to brush his hair back from his eyes. “Your eyes are so pretty.”

He scoffed, and as your hand trailed down his cheek to his jaw, you swore you felt him begin to relax. He must’ve been getting more used to your touch.

“They’re just blue,” he said. “Nothin’ special.”

“They’re a beautiful shade of blue. You should have more confidence in yourself, Daryl. Especially with me. You know I’m yours.”

He cleared his throat and hoped the blush upon his cheeks wasn’t terribly noticeable. “I know. Just… kinda hard to believe.”

“Well, believe it.” You leaned forward to nuzzle your nose against his, tickling him slightly as he let out a quiet, nervous chuckle. “And you’re mine, right?”

He cleared his throat and nodded quickly. “Yeah. I’m yours… Buttercup.”

He cringed internally, not knowing exactly where that sudden burst of confidence came from, but it was quickly matched by your own as your lips slotted firmly between his, your hands clasping tight around the back of his neck. “Daryl,” you sighed against his lips. “You taste so good, baby.”

Your lips moved languidly to his cheek, each kiss more tongue-heavy than the last.

His hands grasped firmly at your lower back, pulling you closer despite his fear of getting too carried away in his desperation. Even so, he felt a burning in the pit of his stomach, an unavoidable hunger rising up to his throat as his tongue tickled your cheek.

“Mmm,” you laughed, burrowing your nose into his soft, silky hair. His lips migrated to your neck, suckling on the skin as your hand guided his to your bottom, where he squeezed on his own volition. “You’re the only man who can touch me like that.”

As your eyes opened in a blurry haze, your eyes were attracted to the basket of bright, crisp peaches on the kitchen counter. “Daryl!”

He panicked as his hands loosened their grip and he pulled back to meet your wide eyes. “What’s wrong? I do somethin’ wrong?”

“No,” you laughed. “You brought me peaches?”

He turned to follow your gaze, fixated on the delicious fruit. “Oh, uh… Yeah, I know how much you love to make that peach pie.” He stepped back, anxiously rubbing the back of his neck with a sweaty palm. He hoped he hadn’t overstepped a boundary, as if offering you a basket of peaches was anymore intimate than what he’d already done. “Thought I’d pick you some. Got the best ones off the tree.”

Your wide grin chased away any worries he might’ve had. “You’re too sweet. Thank you.”

You leaned forward to take a peach in your hand, inspecting it as you bit your lip in admiration of the succulent fruit, its round curves and soft, fuzzy coat so strangely enchanting.

And then an idea came to you.

“Wanna try one?” you asked. “Make sure they’re nice and ripe?”

Unaware of your intentions, he innocently nodded, his lips upturning into a sweet smile. “Sure.”

Washing the skin of the peach, you eyed him from across the kitchen, your hands purposefully caressing the fruit much more sensually than you usually would.

From his viewpoint, it was difficult not to eye the low cut collar of your sundress, and with a more intent gaze as you looked away, he spotted your naked breasts beating against the inside of the lightweight fabric as you scrubbed the dirt from the surface of the peach.

Jesus Christ, he thought to himself. Woman’s got no damn bra on.

“You’ve got an eye for peaches,” your voice interrupted his increasingly lusty thoughts. “Is it because you’re from Georgia?”

When he didn’t answer, you turned to meet his entranced gaze, which was focused on your chest. “Daryl?”

“Uh, yeah. Georgia. Peaches. Real nice peaches.” Fuckin’ Christ.

You gracefully side-stepped around the counter with a bowl now filled with rinsed peaches, as well as a knife to cut them. He tried not to watch too closely, not to pay too much attention to the outline of your curves underneath your dress, but it was hard not to.

“I’ll cut out the pit,” you said, picking up the knife in one hand and a peach in the other. “Keep them for planting more trees.”

With his usual overbearing concern for you, he watched carefully as you began to slice the fruit by its girth, and when the blade of the knife got too close to almost cutting your thumb, he couldn’t stand by and watch any longer.

“Nah, let me,” he said, grabbing the fruit and the knife. “You’re gonna hurt yourself.”

You scoffed with a smile, slightly annoyed by his caring nature, but mostly quite enchanted by it. He was always like that, more so the longer you knew him. If you didn’t need to lift a finger, he wouldn’t let you, and certainly not if that finger posed a risk of getting cut.

“Well, I’ve cut plenty of peaches myself, Daryl.”

“I’m here now,” he said, keeping his eyes glued to the sticky juice beginning to seep around the silver blade penetrating the soft fuzzy surface. “I’ll take care of you.”

If he hadn’t been so absorbed in his work, he might’ve been more bashful about his words, but you certainly weren’t going to let them go unnoticed.

“You’re adorable.”

“Am I?”

“Mhm… Adorable and sweet.”

He popped the pit out of the now halved peach with a huff. “Gotta start gettin’ used to all this flattery.”

“Oh, I’ve been flattering you since the day I met you,” you laughed. “You were just too innocent to notice it.”

He looked up as he handed you your half. “Innocent?” he asked.

“Well,” you sighed, raising your peach to your lips, “you’re not that innocent.”

“Pfft,” he scoffed with a crooked smile, the kind of smile that proved your point quite well. There was innocence in his eyes, but that smile was almost mischievous, like it knew exactly what you meant all on its own. “Eat your peach.”

You almost took a bite, but when he raised the fuzzy fruit to his lips, you felt a tingle surge through you, a reminder of the feeling of his lips kissing a part of you not too dissimilar from the shape of that fruit, with its delicate flesh and its deep, concave center. To see that tongue of his swirl circles as it gathered the succulent juice from the perfect ripe peach might’ve been just the most beautiful sight.

“Wait,” you said, scooting forward on your barstool until your knees touched his. “Why don’t you eat that peach like it’s me?”

His eyes narrowed in confusion at the request, and though he wondered what you meant, one look at the cross section of that peach in the palm of his hand was enough to confirm it.

You leaned forward once again, cradling his hand in yours as you lifted the fruit to his lips. “Like it’s my pussy,” you whispered. “Please?”

The slight beg in your voice awakened something within him, an urge to please you and satiate your needs as best he could.

His tongue slotted gently into the pit, lapping up the juice as his fingers squeezed the fruit from the outside, creating a sinful sound. “Like this?”

“Mhm.”

Discarding your peach, you reached your hand down between your thighs, touching yourself just above your dress. “Good boy,” you said. “I like when you listen to me. Keep going.”

His eyes didn’t leave yours, not that they could. Your stare was much too intense, and much too seductive, to ignore. In truth, this was torture. He’d been thinking about licking you ever since he’d done it a week before, and one taste was enough to render him addicted for life. It was the idea of pleasing you, of hearing your moans and sighs and whimpers of sexual relief as his tongue massaged your most intimate, sensitive part. He would never want to deny you, or himself, of that pleasure. Now, licking and sucking desperately at the flesh of a peach was almost humiliating, as though you knew exactly what he wanted, and yet you withheld it from him by offering a meager substitute. He supposed he brought this upon himself, though, with his shyness preventing him from being alone with you since last week. Maybe this was part of your plan.

With sticky droplets of peach juice dripping down his chin, he finally sunk his teeth into it, allowing more flavor to surround his wiggling tongue. The movements seemed to match those of your fingers, swirling in tight circles over the sensitive nerves tucked under your dress and panties.

“It ain’t like the real thing,” he said. “Let me… I wanna…”

Your hand tore away from your body as you leaned forward to catch his lips, still coated in a thick layer of sweet, peachy goodness. “What do you want, sweetheart?” you asked into his mouth. “Big boys use their words.”

He swallowed hard as he watched you take a bite of his peach, deliberately letting your lips sink around the juicy fruit in the most sinful way. “I wanna lick your pussy,” he said, almost ashamed of his words, but he couldn’t help it—if you asked him to speak, he had to speak. The hold you had over him was insurmountable. “I wanna taste you… Ain’t nothin’ even close to the taste of you.”

You smiled against his cheek, where you pressed slow, languid kisses. The half-eaten peach had dropped from Daryl’s hand in distraction, though neither of you noticed. “Oh,” you laughed. “Well, what are you waiting for?”

The frustrating thing about Daryl was that you knew he could overpower you—he was physically very strong and bulky, with lean, muscular arms that could squeeze your abdomen tighter than a corset. All that, and he was still so delicate with you, so weary of hurting you with his strength and passion that even frightened himself the more he became aware of how much he loved you. He’d never seen himself as a sexual person before, but you’d opened up a whole new part of him that he was both excited and fearful to explore.

When he exerted enough strength to pin you against the counter, lifting you up by your waist as his lips devoured yours, you couldn’t help but moan in pleasure, though he quickly hesitated once again, removing his lips.

“Sorry,” he said, gently rubbing your hips up and down. “Did I hurt you?”

You scoffed, reaching down to strip yourself of your panties. “Get down there,” you said. “Eat me like that peach.”

From his lips erupted a low growl as he hoisted your ankles to his broad shoulders, moving with just a hint of confidence once again as he lowered his head beneath your skirt.

He felt his jeans begin to swell with the pressure from his cock rising, hardening with each quick, desperate lick up and down your slit. His tongue flattened wide, while he groaned in pleasure at the familiar taste he hadn’t been able to get out of his head. He was addicted to it, lapping at your natural juice like it was ice cold water, and he’d been wandering through a desert.

His tongue was only slightly more calculated than last time, focusing more on the little bundle of nerves above your entrance, knowing it was the goldmine.

When he swirled his tongue just right, causing you to clench your thighs around his head, he groaned again, not in annoyance at the feeling of your legs interlocking, but bliss.

“Aw, fuck,” he groaned, voice muffled against you.

You sighed and smiled as you threw your head back, pleasure overtaking you. “You like when I squeeze you with my thighs?”

“Yes…”

“Yes what?” you asked more sternly now, letting up on your entrapment of his head.

He paused for a moment, though his tongue quickly licked at you again in short, frustrated bursts. Still, he missed the feeling of you all around him. “Yes, (Y/N).”

Your hands laced delicately between soft, chocolate colored strands of his lengthy hair. “That’s a good boy,” you cooed, squeezing your thighs tighter than before. With a low whimper, he moved more vigorously on your clit, pursing his lips and licking it as he sucked. “You said you’d take care of me… Take good care of me, Daryl… I want you to take care of me.”

I will, he responded in his head, his mouth much too focused on his task to answer out loud. Take real good care of ya, buttercup.

His hands wrapped tightly around the outside of your thighs, pulling them even closer around his head until he was sure he could barely hear anything with your thighs covering his ears.

“Oh!” you cried out, his tongue flicking wild strokes up and down your most sensitive area. Each movement made you flinch and writhe and whimper from the sensation of little shockwaves coursing through you, building up gradually and becoming stronger and stronger.

You would’ve thought from the way he was moaning and whimpering, too, that you were pleasuring him, but just the act of tasting you was enough for his cock to expand his pants as far as they could go, his engorged tip achingly rubbing against the inside of his scratchy jeans.

You were sure you’d never heard of a man being as turned on during cunnilingus as him. It pleased you, how passionate he was, how he’d probably beg to taste you if he got desperate enough. Something about the way he moved his tongue, lapping you up like you were his first meal after a long fast… That alone could get you off.

As he kept going, never coming up for air and drowning himself in the accumulation of your arousal, you feared he’d pass out from lack of air. “Baby,” you huffed, tugging gently on his hair as you tried to catch your breath. “You can… take a break… if you want to.”

He only grunted in response, the animalistic hunger in that sound sending another vibration through you all on its own. He felt himself nearing his peak, with the adrenaline of fear and excitement and arousal and basic, primal need coursing through him, causing his veins to bulge underneath his suntanned skin.

In an effort to calm himself, he lowered his hand to paw at his bulge, where his cock began to pulse and throb with each angelic sigh from your open mouth. His hand only worsened the situation, the pressure unintentionally driving him to the brink of orgasm.

“Shit,” he groaned, head still tucked between your shaky thighs, with your own orgasm not far.

At this point, you couldn’t even notice his ragged breathing or his body convulsing with each spurt erupting from the tip of his cock to coat the inside of his underwear.

His tongue never ceased its mission, though. He never stopped lapping at the wetness of your folds. When your hands tugged at his hair the hardest they had yet, and your whimpers and moans grew louder, he knew it wouldn’t be much longer until—

“Daryl!” you cried out. “I’m… Oh, you’re going to make me come…”

And you did, waves of intense orgasmic pulses causing you to buck your hips, your clit hitting the tip of his nose and intensifying the feeling even more. “Yes!” you repeated in a hazy state of bliss. “Daryl…”

Your shaking legs dangled loosely on his shoulders, your thighs losing their grip on the sides of his head as they became numb once your orgasm began to fade. He could no longer feel your body twitching, so he raised his head to look you in the eyes, blinking gently as a wide grin split your face.

His expression turned from hungry to shy, and slightly nervous. He looked like a schoolboy who’d just been caught doing something naughty in the boys’ bathroom. It wasn’t too far off—he knew he’d lost control of himself, and he was embarrassed, terrified you’d be disappointed in his lack of ability to keep himself from coming too soon.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” you said with a slight giggle to your voice, still trembling a little from that intense feeling. “You did so good.” Your hands returned to his hair, massaging his scalp as your fingers attempted to restore the messy strands you had misplaced to their natural pattern.

With your hands lowering to his cheeks, you pulled him forward until his lips met yours and his body aligned perfectly just above you. The sharp hardness of the kitchen counter below you wasn’t particularly forgiving on your back, but the thrill of it made it worthwhile.

You felt his arm squirm between your bodies, his hand reaching to his crotch to adjust himself again. The discomfort he felt from the accident in his pants was hard to conceal.

Still, you chalked it up to nerves, and you tried to hold him in place above you, but his arms were too strong to be kept still by you. “Daryl,” you huffed. “What are you doing?”

Clearing his throat, he lifted himself from you to step back from the counter, turning around quickly. “Nothin’,” he said. “Just gimme a minute.”

You heard the sound of his jeans unzipping, and the soft rustling of fabric as he tried to clean himself up. Now concerned, you lifted yourself from the counter and lowered your dress to wrap your arms around his waist and slot your forehead between his shoulder blades. He stiffened a bit, then relaxed, remembering he was in safe hands. Quite literally. There wasn’t any other touch he’d feel comfortable with but yours, even when you were just friends. Your touch was soft, dependable, like a promise. Not an empty promise, a promise with intention and devotion.

“Did you—”

“Nah,” he said, even if you hadn’t quite finished your sentence.

“You didn’t even know what I was going to ask,” you laughed.

“I didn’t come.”

You scoffed and raised your head to peek over his shoulder. “Well, now I’m curious… It’s okay if you did. Actually, it’s cute.”

“Pfft.”

“Turn around.”

There wasn’t an order you could give that he wouldn’t follow, especially in this state. After a few moments of obligatory silence, he slowly turned to reveal his unzipped and unbuttoned jeans split open, where his black underwear showed a fresh whitish stain.

You tilted your head and smiled. There was something so cute, and sexy, of course, about his inability to control himself, his struggle to keep his arousal at bay, and how much just pleasuring you with his mouth turned him on. How could he come without even being touched? You knew he was sensitive, but this was another level… It was perfect. He was perfect.

“Sorry,” he spoke under his breath, lowering his head as his eyes fluttered to occasionally look back up to you, as if checking to see your disapproval. “Jus’ still gettin’ used to it… and you’re so damn beautiful, especially when…” He trailed off, shaking his head with a self-derisive scoff.

Your shoulders shifted playfully, biting your lip as you rested your hands on his shoulders to gently massage them. They were tense, as usual, with tight knots and hard, lean muscles aching for some comfort. In the back of your mind, you wanted to remove that raggedy black button up shirt and trail kisses along those broad, workworn shoulders, upon which the world seemed to rest. Any man who spent as much time as he did caring for and protecting his community would’ve needed it, but for a man who seems to be so touch-starved, he needed it extra.

“When what?” you asked.

He swallowed, thinking back to the sultry moans that had poured from your watering lips as he pleased you. It was more like the sound of a goddess calling upon her most loyal servant to do her bidding, and if he could take the place of that servant, he’d do it gladly. Everyday of his life.

“When you make those little noises,” he said with a shrug, trying to speak as casually as he could. Siddiq had given him the unsolicited advice to “play it cool,” and he supposed now was the time to put that phrase into action, though he was anything but cool. “Can’t control myself.”

You sighed, trailing your fingers along his collarbone until they found the top button of his shirt, which you slowly undid before gracefully cascading to the next, and the next…

“Do you think you have anymore left in you?” you asked. Now your hunger became insatiable, with your eyes constantly returning to the bulge within his underwear, still wet and visibly a little sticky. “I mean, if you’re not too busy… I know you’re a very important man.”

Within moments, his shirt was unbuttoned, revealing the sheen of sweat on his bare chest. Your fingers tickled the soft, slightly curly hairs of his happy trail, leading to his underwear.

He let out a deep sigh as he felt your hand gently squeeze his bulge, not enough to cause pain, but enough to make him flinch.

“I ain’t…” he said shakily, trailing off as he lost his train of thought. How was he to focus on forming words when your hand was cradling his cock, massaging it tenderly over the soft fabric of his soiled underwear. “Ain’t that important.”

You pouted teasingly, with glimmering doe eyes that betrayed your arousal. “You’re important to me. I love you, Daryl.”

His body relaxed as he registered those three lovely words. For so long he’d wondered what it was like to be loved by someone, and for the first time, he didn’t feel like there was a missing piece in his life, an empty space where that emotion should be. You’d always been special to him, and now that he could allow himself to understand his feelings completely, clarity washed over him like crisp spring rain. In its wake was every little flake of shiny gold stars he swore he saw in your eyes.

Every movement of your fingers as you tugged his jeans and underwear from his waist made him wobble and cling to your shoulders for balance, eliciting a laugh from you. He hadn’t even noticed he failed to respond. “I love ya, too,” he said. “I’ll keep you safe, won’t let anythin’ bad happen to you. I’ll take care of you.”

You raised an eyebrow at his delirious rambling, his agape lips and increasingly ragged breaths proving to be rather adorable.

He only noticed he was now fully naked when he heard the sound of his shirt button hitting the tile floor. “Shit, you don’t waste time,” he laughed nervously, and to prove his point, your lips crashed impatiently, tongue circling wildly in his mouth as he tried to keep up.

“Take care of me,” you panted breathlessly against his lips, between impatient tongues twining around each other like vines. “Upstairs.”

His feet stepped on yours a few times as he tried to maneuver both your bodies up the staircase, hands moving up and down in frantic movements in attempts to rid you of your clothes. Soon you were naked at the top of the stairs, with a few superficial fingernail scratches from where Daryl’s quick, impatient hands had marred your skin.

“Shit,” he huffed against your neck, noticing a red mark from when he lifted your dress above your head. “Sorry... Did that hurt?”

You shook your head as you pulled him up the last steps. With hands cupping both cheeks, you pulled him into your room as you kissed him, until the back of your knees hit the bed, and he fell over you, both of you fully naked against each other. Everything had moved so fast, you didn’t even notice how many marks he left on you. It wasn’t painful, though. In fact, you’d hoped they’d last a while, as a reminder of what you were about to do.

“You’d never hurt me,” you said. You were glued to his gaze, somehow soft and sweet, and hard and wild at the same time. “I feel it in your kiss. I know you love me.”

He lowered his head to nudge his nose against yours, his silky hair falling down to curtain both of your faces. “I know ya love me, too… Dunno how I got so lucky.”

You furrowed your brow and shook your head. “Stop.”

Your lips prevented him from speaking again, and your legs spreading underneath him to wrap around his waist drew his body closer. His hardening cock ached for attention, and as you writhed up and down underneath him, it fit perfectly between your folds, still wet from his saliva and the juice of your arousal.

As if by instinct, he thrusted himself against you, his head buried sheepishly in the crook of your neck, mouth suckled to your skin where he’d no doubt leave another mark of his affection. For the first time, he was on top of you, a new position which gave him control, to some extent. He froze for a moment as he contemplated his next move. How was he to know what to do in this situation? He’d only had sex with you once, and now he was here.

“Daryl,” you muttered against his hair. “Just fuck me… Take care of me.” Your hand reached between your bodies to feel his cock. “Put this cock inside me.”

“Shit!” he suddenly exclaimed.

Your eyes widened in shock as he lifted himself up. “What’s wrong?”

“Condom,” he said shortly, and the last thing you saw was his tight, pale little ass scurrying out the door to pick up his discarded jeans from the kitchen floor downstairs, where the condom he’d tried to carry so discreetly was held in his back pocket.

You threw your head back and laughed, hearing Daryl’s cursing under his breath and his loud, hurried footsteps echoing through the house. He came back with the condom halfway on his cock, his hand still adjusting it until it fit just right.

“Got it.”

“Mm, baby,” you laughed, laying back down to sprawl out your arms and legs, your eyes hazy and your smile soft and warm. You writhed on the bed playfully, cupping your breasts with your hands and squeezing gently to tease his hungry, begging eyes. A part of him seemed to want to pounce on you, but another wanted to ask you permission. “Come over here and give me everything you’ve got, handyman.”

You watched in delight at the blush forming on his cheeks as he slowly but surely made his way over to you, kneeling on the edge of the bed to lower himself just above your body, where he positioned his cock to your entrance. Your hands gravitated to his shoulders, rubbing them reassuringly.

His chest heaved with deep nervous breath after deep nervous breath. You kept your eyes locked to his cock, watching it slowly spread you open. In the shallow end, it came in at a perfect angle, tickling a special spot to make you shiver in delight. “Mmm,” you hummed. “Good boy.”

He scoffed under his breath. “Shut up.”

He inched deeper inside of you, wasting no time in going as deep as he could. There was a desperation to his movements, a deep, unavoidable need, and yet a hesitation, always lingering close behind. “This okay?” he asked under his breath. “This feel good?”

You leaned forward to tug on his strong, broad shoulders, the defined muscles flexing under his sweaty skin. His chest pressed to yours, your nipples aligning with his to tickle each other delicately. “So good,” you sighed into his lips. “I love you.”

His hips began to move on their own accord, slowly but surely moving to and fro to the rhythm of your heartbeat, the warmth between your bodies getting stronger and stronger. “I love you,” he replied.

With your arms tangled tightly around his back, he thrusted harder, in shorter, sloppier bursts. “Ah, fuck…” he groaned against your neck. You squeezed around his cock, the walls of that soft, warm passageway massaging him with each movement he made. It was suffocating in the most beautiful way, being completely overwhelmed and consumed by you and your body. Even underneath him, you still commanded him, your body forcing him to move with yours and guiding him to his pleasure, which only spurred on your pleasure.

Your heels burrowing into the dimples of his lower back, you demanded he move more. In his position, the angle of his tip would just perfectly hit you in a sensational spot. “Daryl…” you panted. “Yes, right there, baby. You feel so good.”

He only gasped for air and groaned hoarsely under his breath in response, until his words returned to him. “I can’t… stop. Shit, (Y/N)... I’m gonna come.”

You huffed and loosened your legs’ grip around him, then pressed your hands to his chest to push him away until he pulled out of you. Much to his confusion, his body turned to obedient jelly as you maneuvered him until he lay pathetically panting and wiggling out of frustration and need to be inside you again. Not even his hand desperately tugging at his cock, wetted and dripping with your natural lubricant, could ease the pain of pleasure.

“(Y/N)...” he practically whimpered under his breath. It was still as gruff and deep as his normal voice, but coated with a more high pitched, almost whiney layer. You watched one hand grip tightly around his aching testicles, the other massaging the reddened, leaking tip of his cock. He was right on the edge, and yet the feeling of his hands alone couldn’t release him. “Need ya… Please. I’m beggin’ for ya.”

Even his dark, pleading eyes begged for you. As much as you liked him in this state, on the edge of orgasm and needing only you to get him there, you also would love to see him come again, sooner rather than later.

With your legs wide, you straddled his waist to meet his tip to your entrance, where your hand guided his cock, but not without thumbing at the tip teasingly, and rubbing it on your clit to please yourself with it. “Mm,” you hummed. He could only groan in response, leaning his head back as you could’ve sworn his eyes rolled back slightly. His hands grasped at your waist, trying to get himself inside of you. “You’re so cute when you’re horny,” you laughed. You let his tip enter you for a moment only to lift yourself up slightly until it slipped out, causing him to whine under his breath. “Do you like it when I tease you?”

He scoffed and looked up at you with hazy, half-closed eyes. “Woman… This is torture.”

You rolled your eyes at his hyperbole, as surely this was nothing compared to what some other, kinkier people liked to do in the bedroom. But, you supposed, you did like to torture him, if this was what he considered torture.

“But do you like it?” you laughed, stroking his chest up and down as you lowered yourself once again onto his cock—terribly slowly, of course.

He hissed as he watched your body envelop him again, and felt the tingle returning to his shaft as you started to circle your hips and massage him with your squeezing walls.

“I… Fuck, I…” He threw his head back with a deep sigh and a delirious laugh trailing not far behind. “God, this is good… Ah, shit, how can ya feel this good, buttercup…”

You shrugged your shoulders as you moved faster, grinding in tighter, harder movements, with your hands planted firmly on his pecs, playfully twirling the slightly curly light brown hairs with your fingers. “Maybe my body was meant for yours.”

He reached up to pull you down. This time, he commanded you to kiss him, to slip your tongue in his mouth as he forced his into yours, with that sloppy, inexperienced kiss of his. With his hands tangling into your messy hair, he thrusted harder into you from below you, until his lips separated from yours to expel a loud, strained moan from the pit of his stomach. “Fuck!” he cried out.

His cock pumped his spend into the reservoir of the condom, and for a while there you were sure he wouldn’t ever stop, but he did, and the moans subsided as he caught his breath and held you close, his arms almost suffocatingly tight around your back.

For a while, you didn’t need words, just the feeling of your bodies interlaced in each other, him still inside you and making himself quite comfortable there, was enough. His chest made a wonderful pillow, despite how strong and hard it was. Somehow, it became soft for you. His body didn’t strain or flex with nerves. It simply mellowed, cushioning you. He was almost softer than the surface of your bed underneath him.

“I ain’t ever met a woman like you,” he said, finally breaking the silence. You lifted your head to look at him, wondering what he meant by that, and if it were a good thing.

“Like me?” you asked. “What am I like?”

“Real sweet,” he said, eyes closed and his voice slurring a little as sleep threatened to take him over. “But… real demanding.”

You scoffed. “Demanding?”

He opened his eyes as he became more alert. “Ain’t a bad thing. You know what you want, and you go after it, and ya get it.”

“Oh,” you laughed, snuggling back into his chest. “So I’m… strong willed?”

“Yeah,” he nodded sleepily. “I like it.”

“It’s not… scary?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Woman, you scare the hell outta me.”

“Oh,” you said, slightly worried now. “Sorry, baby.”

“Don’t be sorry,” he replied. “Told ya, I like it. I can handle ya.”

You always knew he could.

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