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rustedhearts · 10 months

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send her my love (boxer!steve x fem!librarian!reader)

summary: a series of letters written after your recent breakup with steve, recounting your time apart.

uses she/her pronouns and female anatomy.

♡ the king of the ring ♡ main masterlist

tags: angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, mushy-gushy-lovey-dovey love letters.

a/n: pretty self explanatory, but libby’s letters are in pink, steve’s are in black ♡

“…how it hurt so bad to see her cry. i didn’t want to say goodbye. send her my love, memories remain. send her my love, roses never fade.”

—send her my love, journey

december 1992—march 1993

♡ ♡

12/05/92

Dear Libby,

Dear god I hope you open this. My hands are shaking so bad around the pen that I’m sure it’ll be all scratchy and shit, but I hope you know that I’m trying. I know how much you love letters, and after you stopped picking up my calls a few weeks ago…I figured this was the best way to reach you.

It’s been almost a month since we last saw each other. I hate thinking about that day. I hate thinking about you crying, and crying because of me. Because of something I did. I want you to know that I take full accountability for what I did, my love. That’s a word they said I should use more often. Accountability. “They” would be Big and Mikey. When they heard about what happened…I don’t think I’ve ever seen either of them so mad. I think, for a moment, Big thought about coming out of retirement just to kick my ass into next year.

I patched up the wall myself. It was my mess to clean. The house seems so big and empty without you. I never realized it echoed before.

I don’t blame you for going home, baby. I know you’ve been wanting to go for a while. I know I drove you away. Pushed you away. I was so terrible to you and I see that now. I’m so sorry it took something so awful for me to see it. But you were right. I’m just like my father. And I needed someone to tell me that so I could realize how fucking stupid and awful I’ve been.

I hope you don’t mind that I used some of your stationary to write this to you. You left it on the desk downstairs. The shelves came in for your books and I put them up. Maybe when you come home, we can fill them up. I’ll buy you all the books in the world, my girl.

I’m sorry. Please know that.

Love,

Steve.

♡ ♡

12/10/92

Steve,

I was surprised to receive your letter. When I stopped answering and your calls stopped coming, I assumed we were done for good. I wasn’t sure how to feel about that. Despite my every want to feel the opposite, I’m still so terribly in love with you that my head hurts every waking moment of the day. I ache with it. Now that we’re apart, it bleeds. It has nowhere to go. I have nowhere to put it. But this was your doing, Steven. I don’t want you to forget that.

We both said terrible things that day, but what you did was unforgivable. You promised from the start to never raise a hand against me in anger. You promised to never become the thing you hated. I took your word as bond, and perhaps that was my mistake. Perhaps that’s my grievance to regret.

I miss you terribly, but this time apart will be good for us. It’s what we need. I’ve been away from home since I was 19. My brother stands taller than me. His voice is so much deeper than when I left. They’re getting computers at the library soon. Everything is so different, yet it all still seems the same. But even these tiny differences make me realize how long I’ve been away.

It’s snowing here in Hawkins and I helped mom put up the Christmas lights. Nick and I had a snowball fight. I felt ten years old again. Mom made hot chocolate and we watched Charlie Brown. I know how much you love Charlie Brown’s Christmas. But in that moment, I felt wonderfully calm. I felt okay. I felt happy.

And it made me wonder…were we happy, Steve? Or have we been pretending for too long?

I’m glad my shelves came. Use them for your trophies.

XO,

Libby

♡ ♡

12/14/92

Libby,

I can’t tell you how happy I was to get your letter in the mail. I’ve been scared to open it for the past two days. But the thought of going a moment more without knowing what you said would kill me. I can hear your voice so clearly when I read your words.

I’ll never forget what I did that day, Libby. It will always be a reminder of how awful I’ve become. And it will always be a reminder of who I don’t want to be ever again.

I know it doesn’t mean much now since I’m a few months too late, but I’m talking to someone. A shrink or whatever. Big recommended him. Apparently he specializes in “anger issues.” You know how I feel about sitting down and whining about my problems, but…I don’t know. Maybe it’ll help. If it turns me back into the man you loved then I’ll sit on that couch and talk for days.

You asked if we were pretending, and for me at least, I never pretended for a moment. There wasn’t a second that went by that I didn’t love you with every ounce of my being. I’m sorry if you felt you had to pretend. I’m sorry that you weren’t happy, and if you give me the chance, I’ll do my best to make you happy this time around.

No amount of trophies or champion belts in the world could make up for the loss of you, my angel. Please know that and believe it.

Yours,

Steve

♡ ♡

12/22/92

Steve,

I hate the way your words make my heart pound. All that love is still so strong, and it’s all still festering in me. But the heartache is just as powerful. The heartache is just as real.

I cannot give you a second chance just yet. I don’t think we’ve quite earned it. I don’t think we’ve yet reached a point where we’re both okay—on our own. I want to be okay even without you. I fear I’ve become so reliant on you to tell me where life will go, because my life has revolved around your own. I’ve never found my own path to wander. I want that opportunity now.

I went to the Hideout tonight. A Christmas party with some friends. I haven’t felt that young in years, Steve. I’m only 22.

Merry Christmas, Steve. And happy New Year.

XO,

Libby

♡ ♡

1/3/93

Libby,

Christmas was lonely without you. Mikey invited me to his "bachelor pad" in L.A for a "booze fest" (all his words). Gargling gravel sounded like a better time. For a minute, I thought maybe it might be good to get out. To be my own person, like you said. But everything just feels so dull now.

I thought about mailing your present, but I figured you'd just get upset. I want to respect your space and our time apart. My shrink says I have to find more time for other people's wants and needs instead of just prioritizing my own. Is that what I've been doing, Libby? Is that what I've always done?

I guess I kinda did. Took you away from the library and your home. I just wanted you with me all the time. I couldn’t imagine getting through that first string of fights without you. I don’t think I’d be the fighter I am today if I didn’t have you there.

I guess I’m talking about “me” a lot again. I’m sorry I do that.

I hope your Christmas was nice. Hope it snowed the way you like.

Love,

Steve

♡ ♡

1/28/93

Libby,

I haven’t heard from you all month. I thought I’d reach out again. For a few days, I had myself convinced my letter got lost in the mail. I waited for a “return to sender” to come. I think I would’ve preferred the honest rejection to your silence. It’s been so quiet here, my girl. I miss the sound of your voice in our home.

The fights mean nothing anymore. I won the Russell fight last week and felt nothing. Ever since you left, victory tastes stale. The referees declare the winner and I just hear static. Jesus, I miss you so much I started reading some of your sappy literature last week. It’s clearly having an affect.

I hope you’re okay. I hope you’re good. I miss you more and more with every passing day. I miss you more than I thought was ever humanly possible for one person to miss another. I never thought this deep of a feeling could exist. This “break” has taught me a lot.

Been talking to the shrink more too. He says I have an issue with authority and always need to feel in control because of how my dad was. Big fucking brain on this guy, huh? Must’ve went to school in Dumb Fuckville.

Sorry. I’m trying to be kinder. Not swear so much. Wish they made patches for anger like they do for nicotine. Something to ease the ache. But it’s hard to quit something you were born into. The Harrington rage doesn’t just disappear over night. But I swear I’m trying. I promise, cross my heart and hope to die, baby. I’m doing my best to be better.

I hope I hear from you. I hope you’re alright.

I love you.

— Steve

♡ ♡

2/3/93

Steve,

I meant to write. I’ve been so busy now that I’m at the library full time again. I forgot how taxing it can truly be, but it’s like riding a bike. The smell of the books, the feel of the paper, the conversations you have with readers who don’t know where to look, or the ones who do and are searching for more. I forgot how important I feel between those stacks of books.

My girlfriends and I have been going out. They never got to celebrate my twenty-first with me, so we had a belated celebration a few weeks ago. We went to a bar in Indianapolis, took a bus the whole way there. The bar was loud and hot and sticky, and someone spilled beer all over my purse. I know you would’ve hated it, but part of me wished you were there. Bodies were pressing against each other on the dance floor, touching and smearing sweat—but all I wanted to feel was yours. Your familiar frame, right next to me. Only with you have I ever felt so secure.

Anyway, I got my first hangover, and that wasn’t fun. Especially because I’m still staying with my parents and they still think I’m seventeen. Nick tried to get me to buy him beer for his friends. I wish I could be this ‘cool’ older sister for him, but right now he doesn’t like me very much.

I watched your fight last week. There’s something so different in the way you move now. Your punches seem heavier, harder. You take more hits before you hit back. I wish you wouldn’t do that. You know I always worry, Steve. I worry about what might happen if you take too many hits. All those concussions can’t be good. I’m no doctor, but I figure eventually, they’ll catch up to you. I don’t want to see that happen. I can’t fathom the idea of losing you like that. No matter what happens between us, I always want to know you’re well. Selfishly, I always want to know you're out there if I need to call.

I’m glad to know you’re trying, and that you’re still going to therapy. I think it’s very healthy, Steve, and I appreciate and value your honesty. And….I miss you too.

Yours,

Libby

♡ ♡

2/12/93

Libby,

There hasn't been a moment that's gone by since you left that I haven't wished I was with you. In whatever way that might be, all I've wanted is to feel your body next to mine. I miss your touch, your smell, your smile. I never want to know another kiss but yours. I never want to hold another body in my arms that isn't yours. I don't think I could stomach the thought of never having that again.

The longer the time between us lasts and the further the distance grows, the worse I ache for you. God I sound like a fucking dope. It's all those novels you left me, I swear I'm not this sappy. But I guess with you I am.

Please forgive me. Please come home. All I can do now is beg, and show you how hard I'm trying.

I love you, angel. There's nobody and nothing but you.

Love,

Steve

P.S. You're the best big sister. Nick will see that one day when his brain isn't full of beer and Playboy.

P.P.S. Happy early Valentine's Day, baby. I hope the flowers are okay.

♡ ♡

2/17/93

Dear Steve,

I loved the flowers, and I loved the sap. Reading your last letter brought tears to my eyes, and for the first time in a while, they were blissful. I cannot begin to describe the size of the welt in my chest. It feels bruised by your absence and my longing.

Despite every bone in my body yearning for you, I cannot come home. Not yet. I'm not ready. I don't think you are, either. They say absence makes the heart grow fonder, and while it pains both of us to endure it, I think they're right. Whoever "they" are.

In the spirit of all this honesty, I have to admit: Tom Marrow asked me out for Valentine's Day. And god damn you, Steve, I said no. I said no because I'm wilting without your sun shining on me, and I'm lost without you by my side. I said no because I'll never be able to look into the face of another man without wishing it was yours.

I said no because I know, one day (maybe soon, maybe not), I'll come home to you. Don't let that get to your head.

Love,

Libby

♡ ♡

2/22/93

Libby,

My heart has never suffered as many palpitations in all my high-risk athletic career as it did reading your letter. I hate the way the paper crumpled in my fist when I read about fucking Tom. I'm not sure I'll ever be able to abandon the jealousy that fills me when I think of you with another man. But I can admit, it reached a point even I don't like to think of. I was letting it control me. I'm trying not to do that anymore.

The paper smelled like you this time. You don't know how badly I've missed that smell. I sort of feel like a hound-dog, tracing for more of it in the ink. That's what you've reduced me to, my love. An animal searching for you in the earth.

Please come home. Please come back to me.

Yours,

Steve

♡ ♡

3/2/93

My darling Steve,

I'm coming home to you. Please unlock the door.

Yours always,

Libby

♡ ♡

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viennacherries · 1 month

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QUOTH THE RAVEN - CHAPTER 2

Rolan/Tav | NSFW | 5,482 words

Chapter 1 | Read on AO3

As you pace back and forth in your room, your mind reels.

The group had been to Moonrise. They watched Ketheric Thorm take an axe to the throat like it was nothing more than a splinter, and then use it to split a goblin clean in half. The mental image terrifies you, but it's not the main thing occupying your thoughts.

The tiefling hostages are alive. Danis, Lakrissa; Lia and Cal.

You've not seen Rolan since he stormed off. You want to talk to him. You want to tell him that Cal and Lia are okay, want to promise him you'll save them even if it costs you your life.

You want to kiss him again.

It's ridiculous, in all honesty. You're pretty certain that he hates your guts, but it doesn't stop you pining for him. You realise somewhat reluctantly that you've been pining for him since you parted ways at the grove, and if anything that makes the knowledge of his eventual rejection sting more. Of course he doesn't feel the same way. How could he? He considers you the reason his siblings are lost to him.

You clench your jaw. You're going to get them back, one way or another. All three of them deserve the future that awaits them in Baldur's Gate.

As you finish donning your armour, you glance longingly at the bed in the centre of the room. Maybe at some point you'll finally get a full night's sleep.

Somehow, you doubt it.

You stare at the back of his head, sat at the bar once again, as you all get ready to leave. A rush of relief fills you to see him safe. A rush of joy fills you to see he's drinking water, not wine.

He doesn't look up, but that's fine.

The next time he sees you, his siblings will be safe. You'll make sure of it.

~~~

All of your friend's sordid descriptions of Moonrise pale in comparison to the real thing.

On the walk over, Astarion had likened it to "a foetid corpse that even I wouldn't sink my teeth into". While his analysis came the closest, even that didn't truly capture the depths of the building's nauseating atmosphere and stench. As you stand at the base of the structure, staring up at the impossible height of it, Karlach leans over to speak to you.

"We managed to convince them that we're true souls, but they want to meet you before they give us any more information."

You nod wordlessly. It's another show of your group's trust in you, that they mentioned you even when you weren't present. They've clearly sold you to the cultists as their leader. The thought makes your insides twist.

Gale cuts in, "Thorm wanted us to bring you straight to Z'rell - I believe she's his commander? I recommend you be on your guard. From the brief glimpse we got of her, she appears rather ruthless."

Karlach nods seriously, "complete mega-bitch."

Astarion lets out a giggle beside you, "goodness, darling, I couldn't have put it more eloquently myself."

You snort at that, and Karlach's face splits into a grin. The group looks at you expectantly.

You take a deep breath. "Right. If we're going to sell this you three are going to have to be quiet, if you need to tell me something do it through tadpole-mail." You punctuate your sentence with a brisk tap to your temple. The three of them nod, and Karlach mimes zipping her lips shut.

You continue. "I'll talk to Z'rell, find out what we need to know about the artefact that's keeping Ketheric immortal, and then we'll go round to the docks and enter into the prison from the back. We're here for information and the hostages, nothing else. Don't get greedy." You pause. "That was aimed at you, Astarion. Keep your pilfering hands to yourself."

He sighs dramatically, "oh, if I must."

~~~

Listening to Zrell speak is difficult when you're trying not to choke on the smell of decay and death. It seems to seep through the very brick of the tower, festering between the mortar and filling your pores. You're not sure how successfully you're keeping your disgust off your face, but if Z'rell notices your discomfort she doesn't comment on it.

"You came here to answer the Absolute's call." She says, and her voice is laced with mirth. "Let's see what you're made of."

All of a sudden she's communing with your tadpole, and you can feel her poking through your brain and the thoughts within it. Panic rises within you as you realise that she's trying to discern if you're truly faithful to the Absolute, and you know you have only a moment before she sees into the depths of your thoughts.

You latch onto the first thing you can think of.

As you shape the image of Rolan's face in your mind, you remind yourself of the anticipation in the moments before your lips met, and the rush of euphoria and excitement as you finally kissed him. You focus on the emotion in his eyes as he waited for your reaction, the blush on his cheeks, the shine on his lips. You can almost feel his hands tracing over your hips, slipping through your hair, and in your mind you're settling your weight back into his lap.

Then the thoughts drift further. Watching his magic display at the party, the sound of his laugh as you traipsed through the shadows, the way his brow furrows when he scowls. The sunshine yellow of his irises and the shiver that goes through you whenever his gaze falls onto you, the dusting of freckles along his cheeks, the smooth scarlet length of his neck and how beautiful it would look covered in hickeys.

When Z'rell retreats from your mind, she barks out a harsh series of laughs, and for a moment you're terrified. She's seen straight through you, she knows what you're here to do. Your hand slides to grip the handle of your blade where it rests on your back.

"A refugee from Elturel?" She can hardly get the words out around her laughter. "Gods, what a pathetic little creature. And a wizard, no less! Don't tell me you're actually in love with that sad excuse for a man." She leans forward and runs a hand down your arm, a coquettish grin on her face. "A pretty thing like you? I can think of far more worthy conquests."

You feel bile rise in your throat at her words, both her blatant advances and her mischaracterisation of Rolan, but you swallow it down. Instead, you let out a fake, flirty laugh, and shoot her a half-hearted wink.

This seems to satisfy her, and she launches into an explanation of the relic that Thorm needs - the one that you know grants his immortality - and directs you to the mausoleum.

When you're finally outside again, away from the stifling air of Z'rell's atmosphere, your companions say nothing. The weight of her words hangs over you.

'Love' she'd said. Is that what it is?

Do you love Rolan?

You're not completely sure you're ready to think about that.

~~~

The battle in the prison is more draining than you'd hoped. You're only still upright thanks to a well thrown healing potion from Astarion, which had landed at your feet and splashed up your calves.

The boat rocks on the water and the paddles propel you forward on their own accord, moved by Gale's magic rather than any physical effort. Karlach has the end of a bandage clamped between her teeth as she wraps a cut on her upper arm, and Astarion (despite his initial reluctance) is rationing out the remainders of your healing brews between the ex-hostages. A group of deep-gnomes had also been held captive below the tower, so the boat is cramped and your medical supplies aren't stretching as far as you'd hoped, but everyone is alive.

You can't quite believe it. You feel like you're not even in your body.

That may have something to do with the blood loss, in fairness. You'll worry about that later.

As the boat starts to pull into the dock, you hear a loud cheer from the coastline, and for a moment you don't even think about the horrors of Moonrise towers. You watch Cal and Lia scan the shore for Rolan, and lean over to them both.

"He's probably inside, waiting at the bar. That's where he was when we left."

Lia gives you a friendly smile, which morphs into something like amusement. "That sounds about right. He's not the type for heroic welcomes."

You nod and chuckle. There's a pause before she speaks again.

"Is he... He's okay, right?"

"He is." You pause. "I'm sure he'll be less than pleased that it was me that got you guys out, but he'll be thankful to see you. He's been worried."

Lia smirks, and there's a knowing edge to it that unsettles you somewhat. "Oh, I'm sure he'll be more than happy to give you his thanks."

Cal snorts, before covering his mouth and nose with a hand and turning away, trying in vain to make his guffaw sound like a cough. You narrow your eyes at the pair of them in suspicion and Lia laughs. You're beginning to understand Rolan's perpetual exasperation with them both. They've been out of mortal danger for all of 5 minutes and they're already teasing him, and he's not even seen them yet.

Actually, scratch that. You realise as Lia looks at you that they're not teasing him, they're teasing you.

You try to think of something smart to say, but come up blank. Instead, you blush, and mutter sheepishly. "Am I that obvious?"

Cal snickers, and Lia breaks into a wide grin. "It wouldn't be obvious if he was anyone else," she starts, "but you have to be daft or smitten to enjoy Rolan's company. You're definitely not daft."

Cal cuts in, "oh I don't know, she might be. She did just break us out of prison."

You laugh at that, "in my defence, that was a group effort."

Any reply they might have had is cut off by the boat shuddering as it connects with the shore.

Lia claps you on the shoulder, "for what it's worth, Tav, I think he's sweet on you." Before you can ask her to elaborate, she's clambering out of the skiff and tugging Cal out behind her.

That flutter of hope flickers back into your chest.

As you step from the boat, Bex grabs you in a tight embrace. She sobs into you and whispers repeated thanks and prayers. You don't catch most of them, you just hold her. When she breaks away your shoulder is damp, and she lunges at Danis as soon as he steps onto the shore. They fall to their knees in a heap as they clutch one another desperately.

You're showered in adulation from every direction; you lose count of how many hugs and handshakes you're given. There's a deep weariness settling through your bones that gives you only enough vigour to respond positively without considering your words. You're completely on autopilot.

You finally make it back through the doors of the inn, and you're more than ready to collapse in your bed. You feel like you could sleep for an age.

A loud, clipped admonishment shoots through the air, and you turn to face it.

It's Lia. She looks surprisingly pissed off for someone who was so pleased just ten minutes ago. You sigh inwardly and resign yourself to the fact that you should intervene.

"We're all safe, Rolan - that's what matters!" It’s Cal talking when you approach.

Rolan is opening his mouth to speak, and you're reasonably sure by the expression on his face that whatever he plans on saying isn't particularly polite. You cut him off before he has the chance.

"Rolan was in a bad state without you two."

His jaw snaps shut as his eyes dart to you, and he hesitates over his words.

"I was just... overwhelmed. It doesn't matter."

Lia's eyes soften, and she takes a deep breath. "I'm sorry. We should've been here."

"No -" Rolan is quick in his response this time. His tone is gentle. "- no, it's not your fault. I shouldn't have shouted. I'm sorry."

Cal turns to you, and there's a soft smile on his face.

"Thank you, Tav. For saving me, and the two idiots." He tilts his head in their direction as he says it.

Lia nods, then turns to Rolan, a teasing grin on her face. "Anything to add, Rolan?"

He scowls at her, but as he turns to look as you his expression smooths out, and a faint blush rises to his cheeks.

"I've... lashed out at you. Drunkenly and otherwise. And you helped me anyway." His voice is uncharacteristically apologetic. "You didn't deserve that - I'm sorry. And... thank you."

The look the two of you share is charged, and there's so much you want to say. You pause for too long though, and Rolan clears his throat.

"You went out of your way to help us, it's only right you get something in return." His tone is matter-of-fact as he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a pouch, and you can tell it's gold without looking inside. He takes your hand and turns your palm upwards, places the bag in your hand, and curls your fingers around it. His own hand stays wrapped around yours for a moment, and he glances up at you through his lashes, suddenly bashful.

His words are quiet, meant just for you. "Here. I hope it helps."

You try to refuse - try to say anything at all - but before you have the chance he's pushing the bag towards you and loosening his grip. You're left standing there, staring at him, the pouch clutched to your chest. His tail flicks behind him.

The silence lingers, and Lia clears her throat to break it. "Stay and have a drink with us Tav? The least we can do is pour you a decent pint."

It's tempting, but you shake your head, shaking yourself from your stupor simultaneously. "As lovely as that sounds, I'm completely exhausted. There's not enough blood left in my body right now for me to risk booze, I'll be more ale than ichor."

Rolan's face twists at that, "you're hurt?"

You can only shrug, though the movement feels sluggish. "Par for the course of this hero business, funnily enough. I don't think I've been anything but hurt since I fell out of that nautiloid."

He frowns, "surely your group has healers? Potions?"

"Well," you nod, then shrug again, "Shadowheart and Halsin are healers, but their magic is better spent on you lot. And we're fresh out of potions right now, I'm going to go on the scrounge for some in the morning." Rolan looks distinctly unimpressed, so you shoot him a smile that you hope is comforting. "It's fine, really. I have a bed waiting for me upstairs which has been calling for me since yesterday. I'll feel right as rain after a few hours of rest."

This doesn't seem to placate him, and he shakes his head before standing from his chair decisively. "Absolutely not. I know some basic healing spells and I keep a few spare potions in my pack. I'll tend you - I insist." The last past comes briskly as you open your mouth to protest, and you close it again. He can clearly tell you're brewing an argument, and intercedes before you can fully form it. "Just let me look after you. Please?"

His echo of your own words stirs something in your chest, which feels a bit like he's cheating to be honest, and you find you haven't got the energy nor inclination to argue.

"Fine, but only if I get to lay down. My head is pounding."

He nods, "fine by me, which room is yours? I'll come find you."

You tilt your head upwards, "first door at the top of the stairs, I'll leave it unlocked."

He nods again. "I'll be with you momentarily, then."

It's at that moment that you notice the absolute shit-eating grins that the twins are wearing, and you feel yourself flush. Cal winks at you, which sends Lia into hysterics, and Rolan turns on her sharply.

"What?!" His tail is raised and flicks sharply, in a movement you can tell denotes his irritation, but it just makes Lia laugh more. You turn away briskly before he can see the blush rising on your face and take the stairs two at a time. You hear Cal cackle and Rolan whisper-shouting his complaints at the pair of them as you shut the door and lean your back against it.

You let yourself catch your breath, then take three long strides forwards til you're right at the edge of the bed, and unceremoniously fall face first into the mattress.

~~~

You're roused to consciousness by a light series of knocks against the door, and you manage to wrench your eyes open just as Rolan walks in.

He smiles, "sorry to disturb."

"Not at all, come on in."

He steps further into the room and clicks the door shut behind him. You smile to yourself as a thought crosses your mind, and mutter it quietly.

"'The fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping, and so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door.'"

He quirks an eyebrow with a smirk, "poetry, Tav? You better not be trying to seduce me."

You snort, "please, with 'The Raven'? Rather a grim method of seduction, don't you think? I'm sure I could think of something more suited, if you insist."

His face flushes. "That won't be necessary."

The laugh you let out is incredibly unattractive, but you don't have enough energy to care. You realise you're staring at him over your shoulder where you're planted face-down on the bed, so you roll onto your back and sit up to face him better.

"'And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming...'" You trail off and laugh again. "Yeah, no, it's definitely not the most charming of poems. I'll have to come up with something better."

He smiles, his light flush unmoving, "oh, I don't know, that bit was almost sweet, if you ignore the original context."

You smile wide at that, and Gods, this feels so easy with him. So comfortable. You'd been so sure he'd hate you, but sitting here now looking at him, you can't imagine why.

He clears his throat, and tilts his head towards the bed. "May I?" You nod, and he seats himself next to you.

"How are you feeling?"

"Exhausted. Drained. A little lightheaded, if I'm being truthful. Feels like my bones have turned to jelly."

He frowns, "well that's far from ideal. Does anywhere in particular hurt? I'd like to make sure you're not actively bleeding out on me."

You shake your head, though the action makes your eyes blur, "just my head, really. Well, and my whole body aches, but that's no different than usual. I had been bleeding out, I think, but Astarion threw a potion and that staunched it."

He huffs. "Right. Where were you bleeding out from?"

You blink. "Oh, sorry. My side, under my ribs. Big sword."

He nods. "Do you mind lifting your shirt slightly? I just want to make sure the wound is closed properly."

You nod, and as you curl your fingers around the hem of your shirt he drops his various supplies between you both. There's a collection of healing salves, as well as a mundane first-aid kit.

He notices you looking. "Healing magic isn't a particular proficiency of mine. For anything small I figured we could make do the old fashioned way."

It makes your heart clench a bit, the tenderness and thoughtfulness he's extending towards you, so you nod dumbly instead of saying anything. You lift your shirt to expose your waist to him.

He sucks in a breath, and a look at his face tells you the wound is definitely not staunched.

"That bad, huh?"

To his credit, he does a good job of steeling his features into something neutral. He also does a good job of stealthily avoiding the question. "Nothing that can't be fixed. Do you mind if I...?"

He gestures towards you with his hands, and once again you're mute as you nod. He places his fingers gently against the sore skin around the cut and you flinch. He responds with a sympathetic grimace.

"Sorry, I just need to check how deep it is. The spell will be more effective if I know how far it needs to penetrate." You brace yourself as he touches the wound again, and he nods to himself as he inspects it. "It's a clean cut which means it shouldn't be too difficult to heal. What exactly happened?"

You wince again, though it's not from pain this time. You don't particularly want to go into the details with him; it's certain to upset him. He looks at you expectantly though, and his gentle touch on your skin is clouding your thoughts a little. You sigh.

"One of the guards. He lunged at Cal while his back was turned." Rolan's eyes widen. You shrug noncommittally, hoping to ease his concern. "I jumped in to stop it, so it caught me instead."

Rolan just stares at you, blinking.

"I..." He keeps staring at you. "You... You leapt in front of a blade to protect my brother?"

You wince again, making a sucking noise with your teeth. "... Sorry?"

He sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose as he closes his eyes, lines appearing on his forehead. "I don't know whether I should punch you or kiss you."

You feel your heart leap, and you let a coy smirk dance across your lips, "if you're taking suggestions, I certainly have a preference."

He huffs out a laugh, and opens his eyes to look at you again. You can tell he's trying to look frustrated, but there's a shadow of a smile on his face. "Gods, you would, wouldn't you? I've never known you to not have an opinion on something."

His reaction emboldens you, "I have several opinions on the matter, in fact. Are you taking suggestions? I can give you an extensive list."

There's a cocky grin on his features now, and he leans in til his breath is ghosting over your face. Just as you think he's about to kiss you, he speaks instead.

"I thanked you once already. Don't be greedy."

The tone he utters the words in is low and gravelly, teasing in a way that's absolutely maddening, and you shudder involuntarily as he leans away from you. He looks very proud of himself.

You roll your eyes. "Whatever, you tease. Hurry up and fix me, will you?"

His gaze falls back to your wound at that, and his face drops. He trails a finger featherlight around the cut, which sends a shiver through you, and when he speaks his tone is serious again.

"Thank you, Tav. Truly. My family and I are eternally in your debt. Cal and Lia..." His eyes go slightly misty. "They're everything to me. I'm sorry you were injured, but I'm so deeply thankful for your help."

It's such a painfully genuine comment, and the only thing that feels right in the moment that follows is to rest your hand atop his free one where it rests on his knee. You don't say anything, but you don't think you need to.

He clears his throat. "Right, I'm going to cast the spell now, if you're ready? It might sting due to the wound's depth, but I'll try to be careful."

You nod, "I trust you."

An emotion you can't quite place flickers across his eyes, and you squeeze his hand gently before withdrawing. He grabs your hand before it gets very far, though, and flushes as he places it on his knee. He pointedly avoids your eye contact as he laces his fingers with yours.

"I... I can do it one handed."

You've absolutely not known him long enough for your heart to flutter the way it does, but you find you don't care very much. You squeeze his hand and shoot him a smile, before gesturing down at your abdomen.

"Go ahead, I'm ready."

You feel his magic dance along your skin and you gasp at the sensation. It's somehow cool and warm simultaneously, and it tingles as your flesh knits together. The feeling is different to when the others heal you. Shadowheart's magic feels like being bathed in a warm light, Halsin's feels like blades of grass tickling your dermis. Rolan's healing magic feels more like a soft breeze blowing through an open window; it feels like the particles you can see in the air when the light hits at a particular angle. It's gentle and homely, like being wrapped up in a tender embrace, and it reminds you of the soothing voice someone might use to comfort a child.

All too soon the feeling subsides, and you realise that your eyes have fallen shut. You open them slowly, blinking in the light of the room, and find Rolan already looking at you. His face is open and unguarded, and his eyes flicker across your features as though he's trying to memorise them. When he speaks, it's in a low whisper, as if the very air around the pair of you is fragile.

"... How do you feel?"

You consider his question. You take in the lingering fluttering sensation of his dissipating magic, the feeling of his fingers laced through yours, the exposed expression he wears as his eyes dance over you. You're not quite sure what to say.

So instead you say nothing, and you lean forward and press your lips into his.

His mouth is pliant under yours, his lips satin smooth. You feel rather than hear his intake of breath as you make contact with him, and his grip on your hand tightens minutely. It's a tender, fleeting thing, the kiss you give him, and when you pull away you can't help the goofy smile that spreads across your face.

"Far better, now."

He scoffs, but there's a light in his eyes that wasn't there before, and he's leaning back in. There's no hurry to his movements as he parts your lips, and you sink into the feeling of his mouth against yours. When you separate again, he's wearing a beaming grin that matches your own.

"As lovely as this is," the hand that isn't gripping yours comes up to caress your cheek, "I'd like to finish healing you. Is there anywhere else that hurts?"

You shake your head, then hesitate as the movement makes your skull throb. "Well... I have a pounding headache."

He chuckles, and both of his hands come up to the base of your neck as he leans into your space. He threads his fingers upwards through the hair there, the rest of your locks cascading over his forearms, and you shiver and let your eyes flutter shut as the hum of his magic washes over you once more. He scratches his nails lightly against your scalp and you let out a contented moan. Another soft laugh escapes him and you feel his breath against your cheek, which makes you shudder.

When his magic recedes again, your head feels warm and fuzzy, and you lean into his touch to encourage him not to let go.

"Don't fall asleep on me, Tav, I need to make sure you're fully healed."

You shake your head and plant your face into his neck, and Gods, his skin is so soft and warm. When he starts to chastise you again, you tilt your head and place soft open mouth kisses against his skin, and now he's the one shivering under your touch.

"Tav..." His tone is low, and you feel it in your chest. You hum in response which makes him shudder, and you feel his neck bob as he swallows heavily. "Tav, you need to rest."

You lift your face away from his skin, just enough to speak. "Do you want me to stop?"

He shivers again, and his fingers tighten their grip in your hair. "I should think you know the answer to that already."

You giggle, and reward his honesty with a light suck of the soft skin. He groans fully at that, and you feel the noise travel directly south. You can't help but pull the skin between your teeth and tease it gently.

"Gods," it's more of a breath than a word, "Tav, I- Can I kiss you? Please?"

You sit up and kiss him and he moans into your mouth as you slide your tongue against his. It's a maddening kiss, slow despite the underlying heat to both of your actions. Rolan's the one to break it, to your immense chagrin. You try to lean back in but he holds you at arms length by your shoulders.

"Tav." His voice is chiding, the tone reminiscent of the one you might use to chastise a cat that won't stop bringing you vole. "I'm not finished healing you."

The groan you let out is fairly childish, but whatever. It makes him laugh.

"Come on, I seem to remember you saying you wanted to lay down."

He eases you back til your head rests on the pillows. They're soft and downy, and Rolan's touch on your skin as he positions you on them is so light that you feel goosebumps raise on your skin. He sits facing you, one leg drawn up onto the mattress.

"Gods, Tav, you look exhausted. When was the last time you had a proper rest?"

You laugh at that, which probably isn't the reaction he was hoping for. "Never?"

He sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose again, before looking back at you. "Okay, I'm going to use a general healing spell over your whole body, to hopefully ease some of your aches and pains. It'll close up any small wounds and then you can actually sleep."

When you nod, his hands come to hover above you and the staticy feeling of his magic reaches out to you as he connects with the weave. His hands trail over your body without touching you, making their way across your whole form, and by the time he's finished you feel like you're surrounded by a cloud. He's gotten rid of aches you didn't even know you had.

You only realise you're half asleep when you register the gentle touch of his hand on your cheek, so barely there that you could be imagining it, before you feel the bed dip as he moves to stand. You reach a hand out and grab at him blindly, catching the edge of his robe. It makes him pause, and you blink your eyes open.

"Stay."

The look that spreads across his face is so raw and full of emotion that you almost feel like you should close your eyes to give him privacy. There's a softness to his gaze you've never seen on him before, and he swallows thickly and gives one small nod. You shuffle over enough to make room for him, and he unbuckles the silver gorget he wears over his robes, placing it gently on the small table next to the bed. You expect him to lay down then, but he stands for another moment hesitating, before eventually bringing his hands to the sash that holds his robes together. The flush that rises to your cheeks makes your whole face warm, and you watch his fingers (he has beautiful hands) as they untie the laces and drag the robe off his shoulders, so that he's left just in his plain undershirt and baggy trousers.

You're pretty sure you've never been this turned on from seeing someone wearing clothes, but there's something about seeing Rolan in casual dress rather than his wizarding attire that ignites a fire low in your gut. He takes a moment to toe off his boots, and just as he goes to get in bed he pauses.

"Is this definitely what you want? I don't want to intrude on your rest."

You'd roll your eyes if you had enough energy, but instead you pat the bed beside you. He chuckles and finally clambers onto the mattress. He keeps a respectful distance, lying on his back with one hand folded onto his chest and his ankles crossed over each other. His other hand brushes against the back of your own where it rests between you.

~~~

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 fic #bg3 fanfic #bg3 rolan #bg3 smut #bg3 fanfic prompt #bg3 fluff #bg3 requests #holy rolan empire #rolan #rolan bg3 #tav x rolan #rolan x tav

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buckybarnesb-tch · 9 months

Note

Can you please do anal with Klaus and Y/n

Or something like that

Maybe klaus fucks her with a vibrator up her ass

Of course if you’re uncomfortable I understand, after reading the highschool klaus I thought you might be someone who would write it

The Art Nerd

Modern!Highschool Klaus M. Pt.4

Warning: Smut! Anal sex, Squirting, Dirty talk, and tooth rotting levels of Dd/Lg sweetness from Daddy!Klaus

Art Nerd Masterlist

‘Okay, let’s go mail them!’ Y/n grinned, hopping up and down excitedly, somehow she was more excited about me going to Art school than I was.

‘I still don’t like that you paid for this, I-‘

‘You need to let it go Daddy, I’ve already paid for your applications and it’s only to 3 schools. All of which you’re going to get in so it’ll be worth it!’

We’ve been together for a week now and in the last week Y/n has insisted I apply to art schools that I’m never going to get into. I know that she wants me to pursue my dream but I don’t know if I can take the rejection. All of the schools I would consider going to are extremely prestigious and competitive, they also only accept 150 kids every year but she insists that I try. I agreed to 3 of the applications of which she has helped me with the past few days, my top school however I refused to even apply. The price for the application was 150 dollars and Y/n had paid for the 3 I was sending already which cost 120. I hate her spending money on me, I should be spoiling her, that’s my job as her boyfriend, then again her parents gave her money instead of caring for her so she really didn’t need me to.

‘I love how optimistic you are for me Babygirl.’ I loved that she believed in me so much, though I hated how much she doubted herself. She had gone on and on to me about how dumb she is and I assumed she was failing out of school when she has a 3.8 GPA, however I convinced her to apply to schools in the same areas as the ones I am, with any luck we will get to at least be close if not get an apartment together.

‘I’m not optimistic, I’m realistic! You’re fucking talented Daddy, they would be stupid as fuck not to pick you!’ God I love this girl.

After mailing the applications for the both of us we ended up back at my house where Y/n had been staying with me for 4 days straight now.

‘You realize it’s going to be your fourth night staying here in a row, right?’ I questioned and she looked up at me from where she had sat on my bed, pulling out her math book.

‘Yeah…?’

‘Don’t you think we should talk about that?’ I changed into a pair of sweats and removed my shirt, getting comfortable to not do anything for the rest of the night since it was Friday and we could lounge around the entire weekend.

‘Oh…um, okay. I mean, I can go. I didn’t realize that you-‘

‘What? No! Y/n, no! I mean we should talk about you bringing stuff here if you’re going to be staying from now on. I can move some stuff and you can have a couple of drawers, you can bring your shampoo and shit so you don’t keep going home to shower. The shower thing is becoming very inconvenient as I would very much like to take a shower with my girlfriend, we are doing that tomorrow whether you like it or not.’ I teased, pushing her back onto the bed and lifting her legs and wrapping them around my waist as I crawled over top of her.

‘Is that right?’

‘Yes, it is.’ Her eyebrows went up before I leaned into her neck, sucking a dark red mark onto her skin.

‘I suppose I’ll just have to get used to the idea then, won’t I?’ I grunted an affirmation while continuing to kiss her neck, trailing my hands up under her shirt. ‘We can go and I’ll pack a bag tomorrow if you’re okay with it. My parents won’t care, probably won’t even notice if I’m perfectly honest.’ She said it as if it was normal and she didn’t care but I knew deep down it bothered her a lot that her parents didn’t give a shit about her. ‘My god you’re a fucking horn dog!’ She teased, feeling my hard cock pressing against her pussy.

‘Yes, we know this. I’m a 17 year old boy, it’s common sense to assume that…I love you.’ I had previously told her that I love her in passing, teasingly but also serious however she looked at me shocked as she could feel how deeply I meant it.

‘Nik-‘

‘I love you. I’m sorry you don’t have enough people telling you that because you deserve it and it’s their loss that they don’t get to know what an amazing, generous and wonderful girl you are but I love you Y/n.’ She nodded slowly as if taking it in before a huge smile overtook her face.

‘I love you too Nik. I love you so much.’ She pulled me down to press her lips to mine hard. ‘You know what else?’ She asked against my lips and I pulled back to look at her.

‘What?’

‘I trust you.’ I felt honored by that, I know she has a hard time trusting people so to know she trusts me is a wonderful feeling.

‘I trust you too, and I would never hurt you. You’re my Princess.’ I trailed my lips down her neck, continuing to suck marks there knowing how much she loves and hates it, constantly having to cover them with makeup.

‘Maybe we try something new tonight?’

‘Mmm, like what?’ We’d only been together a week but we’d proved to be a very horny and adventurous couple. I couldn’t imagine what she meant by that.

‘Like maybe another hole?’ She whispered as I continued sucking on her skin until my brain caught up to her words and I pulled back, looking down at her in shock.

‘Really? You-you want to-I would need to stretch you out first.’ She shook her head, taking my hand and bringing it down to her pussy, my fingers grazing something against her asshole and I quickly realized something was already stretching her little hole out for me. ‘Fuck!’ I practically ripped her shorts and panties from her body to see the green jewel on the end of the butt plug that she knew was my favorite color. ‘You’re so fucking perfect, you know that? Are…are you sure?’ She nodded, grinning excitedly and I didn’t need to ask again, pulling my sweats and boxers down before moving to grab the lube I had in my drawer. I placed the bottle beside me before leaning down, ready to shove my face into her cunt when she pulled on my hair.

‘If you want to do that later, fine, but I have had a butt plug in my ass for almost 2 hours, and I’m already dripping. If you don’t fuck me now, I swear to God, someone is going to!’ Her tone was playful but I could tell how serious she really was and I growled, pulling the green jewel from her ass and hearing her whimper as it popped free.

‘Fuck!’ I cursed, seeing her hole open slightly and quickly squirting the bottle on my fingers, pushing them into her and feeling how tight she still was before practically filling my hand with it and lathering my cock in the slick substance. ‘You tell me to stop and I will, okay?’ She nodded firmly, determination covering her face as I lined my cock up with her hole and began pushing in, hissing at the tight squeeze. I had thought her pussy would kill me when I fucked her the first time, and now as I pushed all the way into her hole I’m thinking I may be reincarnated during this she’s so damn tight. ‘GodDammit! How many times have you done this?! Fuck you’re tight!’

‘Never…’ she whimpered and I froze, looking down at her in shock. I had just assumed, clearly incorrectly, that she had tried everything with James…and here I am in her ass for the first time.

‘Why didn’t you tell me that-‘

‘Don’t make it a big deal, I never trusted him…I love you Nik.’

I just stared at her for a moment in shock. It was one of the very few times she didn’t call me “Daddy” while I’m inside of her and it gave me butterflies in my stomach. ‘Y/n, I…my God Princess, I love you so fucking much!’ I leaned down to press my lips to hers and as I did we both cried out at the pressure.

‘I wish it had always been you, wish I could have given you my virginity-‘ I covered her mouth with my hand, resting my forehead onto hers as I took a deep breath.

‘You’ve given me everything that means anything Y/n, virginity is a fake construct created by men to shame women. You’ve given me your love and trust, your body is just a plus…a fantastic plus that I’m deeply in love with-‘ she smacked my ass as I teased her and made her giggle which only made me grunt as she squeezed my cock when she laughed. ‘Okay. Breathe.’ She nodded as I leaned on my arms and pulled back out of her, pushing back in again and not being able to stop the smile as her eyes rolled into the back of her head. ‘You’re so fucking beautiful.’ I pushed back in 2 more times before speeding my pace up a bit as she began to start moving as well, relaxing under me as she grew used to the new feeling and wrapped her arms around my neck.

‘Yes Daddy! Your cock feels so good! Ahh!’ I knew I wasn’t going to last long and I was determined to make her cum before I did, also knowing we would definitely be doing this again.

‘Are you gonna cum for Daddy, Princess? You gonna cum from Daddy fucking this tight little hole?’

‘Yeah…’

‘Yeah? Daddy’s fucking your tiny babyhole right now, I know that makes you want to cum! You need it!’ My hands gripped her thighs and lifted her legs up, pushing them onto my shoulders and she wailed! I shoved into her once more before her back arched and she squirt all over my lower body and the blanket which was the single sexiest thing I believe I had ever fucking seen and not a second later I was cumming right along side her, filling her asshole as full as I possibly could, crashing our lips together as we came.

I couldn’t tell you how long we stayed in that position, unable to move until I felt her shiver against me. Being covered in cum in a basement with the air conditioner on is a bad combination, however I keep it on almost always as Y/n likes to sleep in the cold and be able to snuggle into my warm body under heavy, fuzzy blankets. It makes me feel like I’m in the arctic sometimes but I like how happy she is when we cuddle under 6 Sherpa blankets with a heavy comforter on top.

‘Hold on gorgeous, hold on.’ I pulled myself out of her gently and moved to the bathroom, washing my cock off from the pint of lube and cum before getting a wet cloth. I grabbed 2 pairs of my boxers and 2 shirts before quickly cleaning her off as well.

‘Don’t feel gorgeous, feel sticky.’ She mumbled, grimacing as I wiped her thighs, before sighing.

‘Well you are, gorgeous as always. Daddy’s perfect Babygirl. You’re the most perfect girl that’s ever walked this earth and I am the luckiest man in existence that you’ve decided that I am worthy of getting to love you.’ Her face blushed a deep red and I loved seeing how flustered she got when I said things like that. She deserved all the love in the world and for some reason she had never gotten any until me, so I will be making sure she knows how perfect she is every chance I get. ‘How do you feel? I didn’t harm you, did I?’ I wondered, lifting her legs and maneuvering the boxers up her body to cover her before sitting her up and pulling the shirt over her arms and head.

‘No Nik, I’m okay. A little sore but totally fine, wonderful, absolutely perfect! My Daddy made me feel so good! I don’t think I’ve ever cum that hard before.’

‘Well that’s good, because you squirt all over me.’ I smiled, kissing her nose before seeing her eyes widen and quickly pressed our lips together before she could do something stupid like apologize to me. ‘It was hot, I would say the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen but I think watching my cock push into your asshole has to be the sexiest thing.’ I brushed her hair out with the brush on the bedside table before putting it up for her and removing the damp blanket on top of the bed that we had been on, laying a new one on top and crawling in beside her.

‘I love you Daddy…promise me we’re going to be together forever.’

I pulled her close, resting her head on my chest and kissed her head, my hand rubbing up her back. ‘I promise Baby, it’s you and me, Always and Forever.’

4 Months Later

‘Nik! Where are you?!’ I heard Y/n call from the front door. She had officially moved in a week after moving her stuff into my room and after seeing how much of an effect she had on me my mother didn’t mind at all, loving my girlfriend like her own child nearly instantaneously.

‘Kitchen with Elijah and Kol!’ I shouted back, pulling the potatoes out of the oven and finishing playing up our dinner for the night before my brothers tore into the rest.

‘Hey.’ She greeted, pulling me close and kissing me excitedly. ‘I have something for you.’ She told me, holding up a letter.

We had gotten all of our college letters back last week and surprisingly I had been accepted to all of them like she said I would and we had decided on Columbia university. It had an amazing arts program and she was accepted to a school not far, but as she seemed to be holding up a college admissions letter I was confused.

‘What’s this? I got all my school letters back.’ I said just as Rebekah walked in, hugging Y/n in greeting, they had become very good friends despite my pleading them not to.

‘What’s this about school? I thought you got accepted.’

‘I did…what did you do?’ I questioned her and now everyone was looking at us.

‘Well you adamantly refused to apply to the school you wanted to go to most of all and so I paid to get the admissions forms and forged your application. All I had to do was fill in your information and make a portfolio of 20 of your most recent pieces. I picked my favorites…I used my painting as well.’ She blushed and I just stared at her for a moment.

‘That cost $150 Y/n! I told you I didn’t want to do that and you picked paintings I didn’t want to use on top of that?! Why would you-‘ I huffed out a sigh, running my fingers through my hair and turning away to put the dirty dishes in the sink.

‘Rhode Island School of Design.’ Elijah read, having taken it from her.

‘He’s afraid he won’t get into his dream school so he pretended that the price was the reason he didn’t apply.’ She told him and I turned around, glaring.

‘You Spent $150 Dollars On Me For A Rejection Letter!’ She flinched and I instantly relaxed my body as much as I could, never wanting her to be afraid of me. ‘Why would you do this? I told you I wasn’t going to apply and you fought for it but I still said ‘no’. Why would-‘

‘You’ve been accepted.’ Elijah spoke and I spun to look at him, staring for about 5 seconds before snatching the letter and reading over it to see that he was right. It read that they were impressed with my assortment of unique art pieces.

‘I got accepted to a college about 5 miles away if that’s any help in making your decision for-‘ I cut her off by shoving my lips to hers roughly and hugging her to my body, face in my neck.

‘I’m so sorry. Thank you Y/n. Thank you!’ I took hold of her face in my hands and felt like I fell in love with her smiling face all over again. ‘You believed in me when I didn’t, this whole time. I still don’t like you spending money on me but…thank you. Looks like we’re going to Rhode Island next year.’

‘Damn straight Art Nerd, you ain’t goin’ without me! All those art nerd girls, can’t have you being stolen away.’ She teased.

‘Not a chance in Hell Princess. You’re mine. Always and Forever.’

Klaus Mikaelson Masterlist

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3cremepie3 · 9 months

Text

Slither

Synopsis - Jamil finds your spicy anonymous Twitter and he realizes you’ll do anything for him not to leak it.

Warnings - 18+ black mail, manipulation, roughfucking, deepthroating, hate sex, degradation, humiliation

A/n - I’m glad to be back writing. I recently got back into twisted wonderland and I wanted to write a fic on how Jamil would probably be in real life. I hope you enjoy!

“Care to explain what this is?” He had you backed against a wall defenseless physically and mentally. Mops and brooms clattered as you back up further not wanting to meet his phone's gaze.

“It couldn’t be there’s no way,” you thought. But there was a way someway he found your Twitter you had made sure to conceal yourself as best as you could cropping out your face and any other obvious objects.

“I-I don’t know what that is.” You were gonna lie until you couldn’t anymore. The shame you felt was too heavy to admit to your sins. “There’s no need to lie I know how kinky you truly are,” he slithered.

“Pet play? Really Y/n someone as headstrong as you can’t be into something that degrading.” He laughed for a while probably at your horrified face. “Or how about this tweet right here… I want to be someone’s cumslut. Damn, I can’t get enough of this.”

He laughed for a while longer before he stopped remembering his mission. “Anyways I can’t point out at least 5 ways I knew this account is yours. And I won’t be afraid to point it out to everyone. How will the student body feel after realizing how lewd you really are? You’ll probably have half of the horn dogs lusting after you.”

“Just shut the fuck up,” you seethed. “Hmm, that’s not nice language for someone in your situation.” You sighed clearly defeated. “Then what do you want Jamil? It’s not like I have money to give you.”

“No you don’t have money but you have something else.” Something you and I both need.” Don’t look away you might as well get used to this face because you’ll be seeing it every day.” He grabbed your jaw making you face him. “It’s not too bad we’ll both help each other right cumslut,” he snickered.

And that’s how you ended up here. On your knees for the first time. It was dinner time at scarabia so everyone else was busy eating some type of stew Jamil prepared.

You were eating something Jamil prepared too. That something was his surprisingly big dick. “What’s the issue you’re glaring at it.” I’m just surprised it’s that big is all.”

“Normally good for nothings have good for nothing dick. But I suppose yours is decent.” You wouldn’t know a good dick like mine if you saw one you virgin,” he teased. You wanted to protest more but your mouth was filled with dick.

You gagged immediately being taken aback by the stretch your mouth was getting. “Ahh fuck your mouth is so warm,” he hissed. You looked up watching his mouth fall agape. While he looked down watching your hands grab both his thighs for support.

He chuckled a little bit loosening his grasp on your hair. You pulled off his cock coughing. “You look so much prettier with my cock down your throat.” He spoke while caressing your neck. By now the burning in your throat calmed down and you were ready to take him again.

Like a mind reader, he pulled you onto his cock yet again. This time you went all the way to the base. Spit poured out your mouth spilling onto his tone thighs and your uniform shirt.

“Look at how messy you are. You know you have to actually suck right?” He popped your head off of him so you could speak. “It’s kinda hard to do that when I’m taking you so deeply,” you yelled. “Shhh you don’t want to be caught looking all whorish right? Then I advise you to shut the hell up and do what I said Y/n.”

He grabbed your head and brought you down in his cock this time moving you at a fast pace. You couldn’t keep up your breathing quickly starting to choke. You looked up realizing Jamil didn’t care he was in pure bliss. “Fuck keep sucking that feels so good!”

He loved how pretty you looked on his cock your mascara now running because of your tears and your lipgloss smeared everywhere. So naturally he sped up his hips thrusting to meet your mouth. You gagged loudly one of your hands tapping at his waist begging him to tap out.

In that moment you realized he was practically blind and death. His eyes were closed and his mouth was open completely. Even while doing such devilish things he looked so heavenly. His hair somehow came loose falling over his shoulders.

You tried your best to breathe through your nose and brace yourself you knew what was soon to come. His dick was violently twitching in your mouth leaking enough precum to flood your mouth. And another obvious indication was his voice. For someone who told you to keep it down, he was pretty loud.

If someone walked by they would for sure know someone was getting sloppy. His groans were turning into long drawn-out moans. With every thrust, he began to curse more and more. “Fuck c’mon, you can do it.”

“So good you fucking slut. You want my cum that bad huh? Of course, he didn’t receive an answer since he was balls deep but he continued. “I’m gonna ahh,” he moaned. He came immediately flooding your throat. He sat there for a minute just holding your head making sure you swallowed every drop.

After what felt like forever he let go of you. You fell forward onto him your mind hazy from the amount of breath you lost. He patted your head moving your sticky hair out of your face. “I should fucking slap you,” you spat.

“Why you know you had fun Y/n.” I tapped out Jamil what if I died?” You wouldn’t have died.” And you wouldn’t have known you were death for a minute there. Was the head that good Jamil that you couldn’t hear anything,” you laughed.

He just glared at you not bothering to respond to your antics. “Well make a rhythm or something for a tap-out plan another day.” Wait,” you paused. “Another day? You plan on continuing this?”

“Of course, I do why would I lose my perfectly good cumslut when I just got her?” Now clean yourself up and be back here tomorrow same time,” he directed.

You sat there on the ground is disbelief.

#heartland #anime smut #twst smut #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #jamil viper #jamil x reader #jamil x yuu #twst jamil #twisted wonderland jamil #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland fandom #twisted wonderland fan fic #twisted wonderland smut #twst wonderland #twst mc #twst yuu #twst imagines #twst headcanons

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spoilmesweetieforficssake · 10 months

Text

Eating Out Of The Palm Of Her Hand

So I'm pretty sure this little idea came about as a result of a conversation with @bigolgay (but there's every chance I'm wrong)

Anyway, it's brief, peppered with mild angst and a tiny bit of Gary bashing (only because it fitted the idea and not because I hate him)

~*~

“Shoot.”

Barb looks up at her friend across their shared table with concern.

“I forgot about that tasting night I signed up for, back when, you know,” mumbled the red head. She had been trying to expand Gary’s culinary knowledge in a way that didn’t solely involve her cooking. Not that she didn’t enjoy cooking, but she didn’t like it when it was just expected. Nor when her suggestions for dinner were shot down and he would suggest bad takeaway pizza and beer. “You fancy it?”

“Sorry girl, but Taylor is in town and we have plans this Friday,” apologises the kindergarten teacher. She nudges her friend, however, and nods in your direction.

Melissa raises an eyebrow at her friend who it seems is forever keen to push her in your direction. Still, she fathoms, it’s not exactly a bad solution. You’ve been out together a few times outside of school and are always good company. And just because it’s a couples thing, well, that’s more of an insignificant detail, she reasons. “Hey, half pint? What you doing this Friday?”

You look over as you hear the nickname the red head often uses for you, despite the fact you’re only a couple of inches shorter than she is. “Nothing why?”

“You fancy this?” She waves her phone at you and you push yourself up out of your chair to take a closer look.

“Tasting delicious things and drinking wine with you, where do I sign up?”

She smirks. “You don’t need to sign up. Just turn up.”

You make an effort for the evening. The e-mail made the event look pretty classy and you were being seen out with Melissa, who never looked less than a million bucks in your book, so if you spent a little more time than usual putting on your make up and taming your hair, well, it was only because you didn’t want to show her up.

Despite the fact that you’d dressed up, you weren’t quite prepared for Melissa doing the same. Yes, you’ve seen her most days for nigh on a year now, but you rarely get to see her like this. “Fuck…” It’s not quite the hello you’d intended, but then again, you were pretty sure it was criminal in some states to look that good.

“What? Something wrong with it?” asks Melissa, looking down at herself at your greeting.

“No! No definitely not!” you quickly reassure her. “It’s just…”

She smirks. “Words, kid. Come on, you got this.”

Your cheeks flame red. “I know I see you every day, but I guess I just wasn’t ready for…” you trail off, gesturing vaguely at her.

Her smirk only grows more devious. “Don’t look so bad yourself,” she quips before heading inside, giving you a glorious view of the back of the outfit and suddenly making it rather difficult to breathe.

It immediately becomes apparent that tonight’s event is a couples event. The chirpy receptionist that greets you both takes Melissa’s name and checks her off on her list, wishing her and ‘her partner’, who is apparently you, a lovely evening.

The red head, however, seems not to care and you can do nothing but follow her lead. As you settle in at your assigned table, you both share polite smiles and easy conversation with the other couples sitting close by. They also assume that you’re together, and again, Melissa doesn’t correct them.

You know you could clear up the situation with a few words, but it just feels easier to go with the flow. Afterall, it doesn’t seem to bother Melissa, so the only real harm is to your own heart. It’s something you’re learning to live with. At this point, you can’t quite recall a time when you weren’t in love with the red head.

As the evening progresses, it’s enough that even you forget for a while. Her enthusiasm and passion are things you love about her, and when it comes to food, they shine through. She knows her stuff and engages with the producers and chefs that have put tonight’s menu together. You, meanwhile, are drinking her in just as much as the wine on offer.

You know that part of her being so vocal about tonight’s offerings is down to her finding this an easier way to digest the information than reading the leaflets that have been left on your table. Meanwhile, you take note of the things she’s been particularly keen on, tucking away the associated pamphlets and business cards into your bag to help jog her memory later if she wants to track any of them down.

Each time there’s a new offering, you prompt Melissa to taste them first. It’s not that you don’t like trying new things, but you like to have an idea of what you’re letting yourself in for first and you’ve found observing Melissa’s facial expressions to be both a reliable and enjoyable way to do so. When she comes across something she thinks you’ll like she’s immediately reaching out to feed you the delicious morsels of food, and it’s not until you catch yourself thinking that she has you literally eating out of the palm of her hand that you realise you’re in dangerous territory.

This is just how Melissa is, you remind yourself. How she always is with you. It’s not the red head’s fault that you want to read further into it.

At the end of the night, you’re both pleasantly buzzed. You walk a little, agreeing to find somewhere for one final glass of wine before heading home for the evening. That’s how you end up side by side on a small couch in a dimly lit wine bar.

You’re not quite sure how it happens, but one moment Melissa is talking about new recipe ideas she has, and the next she’s leaning in, her intentions unmistakable.

You pull back, one hand resting on her shoulder to keep a distance between you. The hurt expression that crosses her face doesn’t escape your attention. “Sorry, I just…”

She shakes her head. “No. No, it’s fine. I just thought, we were having a good night, you seemed to be enjoying it, you thought I was hot.”

“I was. I do,” you tell her. As awkward as this situation may be, you owe it to her to be honest. You’re well aware she doesn’t make friends easily, but she let you in, and for that alone, you refuse to let this moment go without making it clear why you’re refusing her. “I think you’re beautiful,” you tell her. “Beautiful, stunning, gorgeous. Take your pick or take all three. I think you’re amazing, and that’s why I can’t.”

She frowns, not understanding. The whole evening had gone better than she had ever hoped it might. Rendering you speechless before you’d even made it in the building had given her the confidence boost she’d needed to believe that Barb’s hunch that you liked her might just be true. Then there was way you responded to her flirting, and now your words?

“I can’t be someone who helps you scratch and itch, or fulfil some curiosity,” you say, smiling sadly. “I can either have you as my friend or my everything, Melissa. I won’t survive some middle ground.”

At this, she sits back, looking at you. Really looking at you as your words sink in.

“I’m sorry,” you sigh, ducking you head. “I just…needed you to know. I didn’t mean to ruin tonight or for things to get so heavy.”

“No, don’t apologise,” breathes the red head, scooting closer. She reaches out, gently cupping your cheek.

“Melissa.” Your tone is a warning. One you hope she heeds.

“I’ve never been someone’s everything.”

You look up at the quietly spoken words to see Melissa smiling shyly at you. Your breath catches in your throat at the realisation that you hadn’t been reading too much into tonight. It had felt like a date because it had been. “Then maybe it’s about time you let someone show you how it feels,” you whisper in reply, closing the distance between you.

#melissa schemmenti #melissa schemmenti x reader

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jakeyt · 8 months

Text

Covet: Chapter 7 (Part 1 of 2)

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!Reader

Covet Summary:

Life was good. No, life was great.

Was.

Until.

Jake Kiszka crashed into the picture.

You welcomed him into your life—your home.

Yes, he was your best friend’s twin. But, he was also the one who would end up disrupting your whole world with his attitude, his troubles, and the annoyingly natural way he lured you in.

Jake Kiszka came with so much you really didn’t want.

At least that’s what you tried to convince yourself.

Warnings: MINORS DNI (18+); allusions to ~future happenings~...and that is all i'll say (enter at your own risk); smutty smutty smut; oral sex m!receiving; unprotected p in v sex (lmk if i missed anything that is triggering to you!)

Chapter Word Count: 10.4k+

Covet Masterlist

a/n: hello, lovelies! i present to you the first half of chapter 7!

my personal life is crazy and my job is crazy (understatement). aaand the cherry on top: my dog chewed up my laptop cord this week! 🙃 that instance made my computer completely inaccessible (since i suck at keeping it charged) until today when the new charger arrived in the mail.

this is a shorter chapter than what i'm used to posting (and edited MUCH more lightly than what i’m used to), but the second half is not completely done yet!

i just felt like i needed to post something since i promised a chapter yesterday. i truly hate not keeping my word. hopefully this first part is enough to tie you over :)

ty to my sis @joshym for being a fucking amazing sister, talking through ideas w me, and proofreading for me (plus some) <3 ilysfm

and ty to @alwaysonthemend for being an a1 friend and supporting + encouraging me always. u r truly amazing & ilysm <3

(((the dream at the beginning of this chapter is alluding to something /extremely/ important that is coming in this story, and i've been dying for y'all to find out what is coming since day 1.......)))

soooo, all of this to say, i hope you enjoy the first half of chapter 7 <3

-🌼🌼🌼-

Screaming.

So much screaming.

In the dimness of the new dream, it seemed as though this obtuse, unintelligible screaming was coming from . . .you?

Why did you feel swollen?

And why was everything hurting?

There were also tears. Tears you felt coming from your tired eyes, rushing down your cheeks in steady tracks. Mass amounts of sweat exuded in hot beads from your forehead.

You tried to reach a hand up to wipe at your soaked face.

But the hand you were trying to move was stuck in a vice grip.

Looking over, you tried to decipher the person holding your hand so tight.

You were met with a familiar face, his eyebrows scrunched so tightly together. You’d seen them like that before. But now, it felt almost sacred seeing his concentration.

In your dreamscape, you couldn’t tell what was going on, but it seemed like a long time coming. All you knew was that this was an important moment. Pieces were clicking. A hole was being filled in your broken heart.

And this man with you —he could only do so much. It was bothering him. You could tell that much. His forehead, wet with sweat, from his own stress. His lip was shiny with perspiration, too . . .

Funnily enough, you noticed there was something else taking up residence on the handsome face you knew so well. . .

. . . a mustache?

Whose face was it? The dream-veil was still covering the distinction from you. . .he just felt so safe.

It seemed the mystery man was struggling with his inability to steal the pain from you. He didn’t want you feeling it. He wanted to feel it for you. He hated not being able to help you more.

This person, you knew that he was your anchor at this moment. Your only saving grace. The only person you wanted near you.

His long hair was pulled up.

Then, his soft voice helped you to fully see him through the veil of your dream.

Jake.

“You’ve got this,” he encouraged, his eyes locking with yours. His voice drenched you in relief and overwhelming comfort, in spite of your pained state. “It’s going to be okay. You’ve got this.”

But what was your current state? You couldn’t even distinguish . . .

Something in the back of your brain told you to look down. Why was there so much blood?

And why couldn’t you see your feet? Weird.

Suddenly, a loud scream tore through you again. You felt the scream in your muscles. In your bones. Damn. You felt it—everywhere. Sweat was exuding from every pore.

Tendrils of your hair were plastered to your forehead.

But in this position, with all you were feeling, you couldn’t be bothered to push the sticky hair away from your face. It was bothering the hell out of you, though.

This was all too much.

You didn’t need to worry long, though, because the man, now confirmed as Jake, reached up to smooth it away for you.

Oh, he was amazing.

But fuck—the pain.

Another scream ripped through you—

Fuckfuckfuckshitdamnfuuuuuck!—

Suddenly, you heard something from outside of your pain.

Your eyes flew to Jake, then to the sound.

It was coming from somewhere else.

Not this place.

It was grounding. It was reassuring — a steady, secure thrumming pulling you—

Your eyes shot open. Your body was sticky with sweat—reminiscent of that in your dream. (Thankfully, there wasn’t as much as there had been in your subconsciousness.)

Mostly, you were surprised by the lack of screaming. Screaming hadn't been what’d awoken you.

Strange.

No, it was the steadily thrumming heart below your hand, drawing you back to a safe reality.

That was the sound. What had pulled you back.

Jake’s warm, firm chest that held the steady beat was breathing full, sleeping breaths underneath you.

And a strong, comforting arm around you, keeping you close.

You took a minute to regain your current, real surroundings.

It was peaceful. Still.

The serenely sleeping man underneath you.

Your body was still on top of his, the only evidence from your dream being your body, which was sticky with sweat from your exertion in the dream. But other than that, everything was just. . . calm.

Everything was calm. Everything was okay.

You felt true peace. There wasn’t underlying stress from what had happened in your sleep.

It made you desperate to just focus on soaking up the feeling you were experiencing now.

You heard birds singing outside. The morning sun was peeking through the small opening of his black curtains. . .

And he was. . . Peace. Present. Real.

You had a hand laying on his chest, your cheek atop it, and the other arm, wrapped around his midsection.

The feeling was reminiscent of the satisfying feeling of finding a puzzle piece for which you’d been searching. And finally placing it where it belonged.

You used the hand that was resting with a cheek atop it, on Jake’s heated chest, to level your chin to turn and observe him.

His eyes fluttered behind his lids. His mouth was slightly ajar, his top row of teeth peeking slightly from behind his parted lips. You grinned at the way he had the slightest curve to his lips. . .not quite smiling, but almost. One of your favorite things about Jake’s mouth was how his top lip curled anytime he opened his mouth with a grin. And it curled just the same as he slept.

There were steady breaths, lifting your cheek slightly. You took a closer look at his other features. His sharp nose. . .not quite the same as Josh’s. No, Jake’s was just a tad bit rounder. But still sharp.

A handsome nose.

And. . . was that . . . A deviated septum? How was he not snoring?

Somehow, as if on cue, the slightest snore left him. It was only momentary, and it made a grin fit to your lips.

Your eyes flitted down, and your brain fully registered the feeling of being wrapped around his naked body. And fuck, it felt good. You took notice of how it felt to have your bare breasts pressed into his naked side and chest. It felt so right to be so close to him. To be skin to skin.

Your thigh was tucked between his, and when you moved to lay back against his chest, your thigh grazed his smooth sac. He was so neatly groomed.

Moving your leg again, just the slightest bit, you relished in the rousing feeling of being tucked into him. You felt the muscles in Jake’s thighs react to it. His stomach tensed underneath your arm. His dick twitched against your thigh.

You felt your entrance gather wetness, your body craving him.

A low moan came from Jake, accompanied by a deep breath through his nose and a hearty yawn, his chest rising beneath your hand.

He was awake.

And all of these noises he made, combined with his manhood against your leg made your heart rate increase.

Your core ached, where it was pressed against his skin.

When you looked up to survey him, you noticed he was already looking at you. His eyes, still hazy from sleep, but taking every piece of you in, nonetheless.

Your heart hammered in your chest.

“Hi,” he quietly initiated, his voice matching the quietness of the room with a soft timbre. A gentle grin flitted across his lips.

You could feel your cheeks heat. You didn’t know how to react to him being awake. It all became too real. The situation you were in.

Suddenly, it all came flying back to you that nothing had really been solved last night.

You tensed the slightest bit.

This was Jake. The roommate who’d been fucking with you in more ways than one since he’d crossed the threshold of your home.

You weren’t friends. Was he quite possibly the most sexy, fuckable man you’d ever met? Hell fuckin’ yeah.

But this couldn’t be right. The plan you’d had before to have it be a one time thing seemed the only logical thing to cross your mind at that moment.

Though, his eyes were begging for you, pulling you in, practically golden in the early morning sun.

Jake wasn’t all bad. Not even close, actually.

He’d been a hurting person. A healing person.

Recently enough, he’d shown a different, decent version of himself in little acts and things he’d say.

His eyes sparkled in the sun, showing you little pieces of him inside. Pieces you wanted to know.

And he was, undoubtedly, someone who drew you in.

Your mind was screaming at you.

Why do you keep fighting this, y/n?! You heard the small voice in your head berating you. Just let yourself enjoy something for once.

But—he was, by nature, an asshole. And the most unpredictable man you’d ever met.

And you couldn’t chance Josh finding out that you’d corrupted his brother’s dream. You were not doing to be that girl.

Though, try as a you might, a huge fucking part of you wanted to give in to the voice in your mind: savor the moment, soak it up a bit longer. Drown in him.

Let yourself explore. Fuck it all.

You saw him reach up to your head, and brush some hair behind your hair, lazily. Sweetly.

“Whose record player day is it?” He asked, continuing to play with your hair, making you lean in closer.

Fuck.

You squeezed your eyes shut at the sudden realization.

Records.

The Black and Gold.

You worked today. You’d almost forgotten.

So, before you could get more comfortable, and give any of this any more of a chance in your mind, you straightened and bolted upright.

His covers fell from your chest, and your skin goosebumped, your nipples peaking in the cool air of his room. You quickly covered yourself.

“Y/n?” He mumbled, his smooth voice still sleepy behind you as he grasped at your hip. You felt your skin tingle at his touch, your legs nearly trembling for him already.

He was so close. Your body was reeling at him being so near to you. If only you could stay with him.

Ignore any sensible thought.

Fuck.

“Shit,” you muttered, lunging further into the ruffled covers, fumbling around for your phone to check the time. Then it came to you. It was definitely still sitting in your purse, where you’d dropped it on the table the night before.

So, before you could think any better of it, you threw the covers completely off of you, bare, round ass jiggling as you ran to the dining table to grab your phone.

Why were you hoping he’d watched the natural sway of your ass as you’d left?

What in the fuck had you let yourself do last night? You knew what. But why?

And why had you let yourself lay there and savor this morning with Jake? Why had you allowed yourself to quite literally sink into him?

He’d been warm and welcoming, y/n, that’s why, your mind fluttered with a fluster of thoughts as it calmly spoke over you. You want him. It’s okay.

You shook your head at the thoughts, taking your phone, holding it to your chest and closing your bedroom door behind you to let yourself breathe.

Now was not the time to consider it.

You were trying to beat the clock to get to work.

But you needed a quick shower before you even started your day.

-🌼🌼🌼-

You had walked into the quaint little store, just in time to adjust to your surroundings before the clock struck 8 a.m., customers filtering through the door soon after, the bell chiming every time.

But, in the quiet times of the day, your mind kept shifting to the handsome, restful man you’d left behind that morning. What had he been thinking when you left?

Why did you have to leave? Why couldn’t you just accept the wonderful feelings tempting you?

Why did you even fucking care?

It was not worth the time or effort.

He’d shown his ass too many times. There were too many things to risk.

You were glad your shift at the Black and Gold had been there to tear you away before you could consider anything else.

As you checked out a sweet elderly couple and wished them on their way, your mind wandered to your dream.

What had that dream been about? It was taunting you, allusive and fleeting.

And Jake’s heartbeat, being what’d brought you back to reality.

It just wasn’t normal in the slightest for something like that to bring you back to real life.

You were used to waking with the same blood-curdling screams you’d emit in a dream. Granted, it had been awhile since you’d even had a screaming dream. Years, really.

Why the hell had you just had one again?

Every single time in the past you had had a dream with terrible screaming, you’d awoken with the screams, too.

But this time, your throat didn’t feel dry from waking with screams. Your mouth wasn’t open. Your body wasn’t tense.

And with how peacefully Jake had been slumbering beneath you, you’d used that as evidence that you hadn’t woken with screaming, too.

He would’ve heard it. You were loud.

One more thing—the screams from your dream hadn’t been like the screams from dreams past that had scared you. No, the screams from this fleeting dream had felt oddly fulfilling.

Like you were on the cusp of something wonderfully new.

The details from the dream were quickly trickling from your mind. Like a faucet you couldn’t turn off. Not staying put like your dreams normally would.

It was like your mind legitimately couldn’t hold onto this dream.

Huh.

All of it was honestly a very welcome change.

Since you were a little girl, you’d had extremely vivid dreams. They had a bad habit of sticking with you, haunting you more than you’d ever liked.

“The dreams are due to your trauma, sweetie,” a therapist had tried to soothe you once as a little girl. “You use your dreams as a means to escape your sad reality,” she’d assumed. You had tried to understand the counsel the best you could as a child. And then it had gotten even deeper, the therapist delving in. “You have a deep seeded want to control things. . . I mean, understandably, honey. . .and maybe, since your dreams are something you can create and control, it is the only time you feel you have some semblance of control over what’s going on.”

In the cushy chair across from the wrinkly counselor with bright red nail polish on her fingernails, you’d sat there, barely registering what it all meant. You had been eleven, for God’s sake.

So, when you left counseling that day, you had just shrugged it off. It didn’t make any sense to you as an eleven year old girl.

Your therapist had been an older woman with gray hair and kind eyes. She’d been nice enough. Your grandparents had taken you to her as a child.

For a year.

Religiously.

Sometimes, you and Elsie would attend together. Those were the best sessions. Other times, you two would swap therapy weeks. One week she’d go, the next week you would.

But you hated going without her. Being by yourself, you felt totally trapped, listening to words you really didn’t understand at all. Sometimes, Els could translate some of the things the therapist said that were more difficult for you to understand.

But sessions that got super deep? Too deep? You didn’t even care to ask Elsie. You didn’t want to. They always got pushed to the back of your mind.

It was just plain uncomfortable.

Back then, your dreams were much more frequent, and oftentimes turned into full-fledged nightmares. You were plagued by them. That alone had made you question your therapist saying it was a way for you to “control” things. You hadn’t felt any control in those “dreams”.

With those dreams (or nightmares, rather), you would wake up— crying, yelling, and thrashing around. Elsie was usually allowed to stay with you on those nights. . .and she would stay, combing through your hair, shushing you, until you would calm down enough to drift back to sleep, sobs sometimes still choking you as your eyes would close, back to a shaky sleep.

Now, as an adult, there weren’t as many nightmares as there were dreams. Some that made sense. Some that didn’t. Most of them, you remembered.

The main theme of all of your most recent dreams had been much more enjoyable than your dreams as a child. And the most recent ones. . .all of them had been about Jake. And they were always fun.

Fucking mind blowing.

But what in the hell had that last one been about? What was happening? Why were you screaming? The pain? And why was Jake there at all?

He wasn’t ever there for the bad dreams.

But had that one this morning been a bad one? You honestly couldn’t tell.

The remnants of it were leaving your headspace way too quickly for you to be able to give it much more thought, anyway.

-🌼🌼🌼-

Just as your shift was about to end, you saw a vinyl get placed on the counter, across from you.

An Evening With Silk Sonic.

And then you saw the perfectly manicured nails that tapped against the record.

You’d know those hands anywhere.

Your eyes flicked up to your sister’s deep blue ones.

Rounding the counter in no time, you were hugging her tightly to you. She smelled of vanilla shampoo and her go-to Bath and Bodyworks body spray. Champagne Toast.

Damn, being away from her sucked such ass. Being close to her again felt heavenly.

You separated from her, both of you leaning against the counter in the same way, at the same time. The store was occupied by only a few customers.

“What the fuck are you doing here, bitch?” You questioned her, laughing at the situation. What a fantastic surprise.

Strange, you’d been thinking of her all day, and now this had happened.

“What a shitty welcoming committee,” she giggled, too. You smiled. “Damn.”

Going around the counter, back to the register, you eyed the clock on the wall opposite you.

“Perfect timing, Els,” you commented, taking the vinyl to scan. You applied your employee discount, bagged it, and slid it back to her. “I’m off in like ten minutes. Also, you have this record already.”

She grinned. “Just felt like stopping by. And you are not one to judge for having vinyl dupes,” she winked. “I also might’ve gotten a text from Josh telling me of an upcoming show.”

Shock flooded you, a beam taking over your features. “Are you and Josh. . .?!”

“No,” she played with the handle of the bag. A quiet smile was on her face. Content, but obviously wanting. You knew her. “Just texting. But he asked if I’d come to this one happening tomorrow, and I figured: you only live once, it’s summer, and he’s hot as fuck. So I decided I should probably take him up on it.”

“Well, I’m a little hurt it’s not for me,” you joked.

“Get over it, bitch. You were my first stop,” she rolled her eyes.

“I’ll never forgive you. But I definitely support this whole Josh and Elsie thing,” you fist pumped the air. “Fuck yeah. About damn time you admit how you feel about him.”

She slapped your fist out of the air. And with a laugh on her lips, she added, “I’m going to see Grandma and Grandpa,” she grabbed her bag to go, already pushing the door to the store open.

“Els, I get off in less than ten minutes. Just wait,” you paused. “Also, what are you gonna do? Take a fucking Uber? Just wait for me and we’ll take my car.”

She groaned with a fake exasperated sigh. “Fine. But hurry,” she slung the bag over her arm, letting the bell chime as the door shut. She checked her phone, mindlessly scrolling as she added, “By the way, I’m staying with you.”

At first, you were excited.

And then, your heart jumped into your throat when you remembered what your sister would be walking right into.

Fuck.

-🌼🌼🌼-

You couldn’t remember for the life of you if he had rehearsal or worked tonight. Surely they didn’t have rehearsal since they’d just had a gig last night. That was practice enough for their show tomorrow.

But he did have the occasional client on Sundays.

As Elsie walked around one of your grandparents’ gardens with your Grandma, you stood to the side and pulled up the text thread between yourself and Jake.

A few blue bubbles on your end, with nothing from him.

See? This is why you shouldn’t pursue him, a bothersome voice perked up in your head. The same one that always convinced you out of him. He is flaky. Can’t even respond to texts.

And still, you typed yet another text to him that would most likely be ignored, too.

It was admittedly nerve-wracking to even think about sending the text. Your chest tightened, hands getting sweaty. Dumb. You weren’t a fucking teenager with a damned crush, for God’s sake.

You bit the bullet and sent him the text. You were an adult, dammit.

And so, the first thing you said to him since he’d fucked you into his mattress was:

You, 4:54 p.m.: Please don’t be home tonight. Find a place to go.

Well, that was real nice, y/n, said the other voice. The one that brought reassurance to your lingering, recurring feelings for Jake. Very sweet of you.

You still couldn’t decide if that voice was the devil or the angel.

You, 4:54 p.m.: Also, don’t you dare tell a soul about what happened last night.

And surprisingly, he texted back almost immediately. You got butterflies for God-knows-what reason. Ridiculous.

Had he been waiting for you to say something? No. Surely not.

Jake, 4:56 p.m.: Already had plans. But thanks for the instructions. Appreciate it

You growled quietly under your breath and narrowed your eyes at the screen.

Though you didn’t want to admit it, your stomach did drop the slightest bit at him saying he had other plans. Were the plans lessons with a client? A girl? A girl client?

Why did it matter? Ugh. Absolutely ridiculous.

You suppressed the juvenile train of thought and hastily typed back, holding tight to how he’d initially irritated you.

You, 4:57 p.m.: Are you going to fucking tell people? You better not.

Jake, 4:57 p.m.: No, y/n. I won’t tell Josh. jesus christ

You couldn’t believe him. Pouty ass. Always concerned with Josh this and Josh that. How was he so blind to even think—?!

Deciding you didn’t want to think about him, and rather enjoy time with your family, you clicked your phone off and stuffed it in your jeans pocket.

You didn’t need to worry about him for the time being, getting a decent enough response to your initial text.

But as you trailed after the sound of your Grandmother’s voice, locating her and Elsie, talking about her red roses, your mind went back to wondering. . .what were his plans?

-🌼🌼🌼-

“I swear to all that is holy if Silk Sonic doesn’t tour, I’m going to riot,” Elsie remarked as ‘After Last Night’ came on her shuffle.

You’d since pushed away your thoughts of your texts with Jake.

But now, this sexy song made your insides buzz. Your mind was clouded with flashes of your night ‘last night’.

The voice at the beginning echoed the bouts of thought that’d been following you around all day, desperate for you to keep up with them.

You’d been ignoring them all day.

You couldn’t help it when the featured woman’s voice enveloped you.

“Mmh,

Damn, I don't even know who I was last night,

It's just somethin' about you,

You just make me feel, mmh”

Fuck. All you could see was him. His face above you, how he felt moving in you, his hair sticking to his forehead with the delicious sweat he’d exuded.

But—thinking too much about it was a dangerous idea.

He was dangerous.

Better to leave it at what it was. One time.

You couldn’t deny wanting more of what happened last night, though. . .the feeling of him was addictive. He felt so damn good. . . moving his hips just right, hitting every spot possible within you.

But, you also couldn’t fully accept that things would be okay if you did give in to the (ludicrous) idea of more.

He was a jerk. And you couldn’t risk what Josh would think if he ever found out. Distracting his brother from his dream.

But dammit, the memories—shiiiit. If they weren’t tugging at you, tempting you. . .

The deep, brown irises that had looked so intimately into yours as he’d taken you. Your tight body welcoming him in, his room filled with combined whimpers and moans.

Your sister interrupted your thoughts with a deep sigh, followed by your usual shared sentiment about Bruno Mars. “Bruno can have me any fuckin’ way he wants. I will leave the door open, okay?”

But you were barely registering what she said, because your thoughts were finally giving way to being improperly preoccupied with your fucking roommate.

You’d done so well distracting yourself all day with the thoughts of your faded dream, work, Elsie, and your grandparents. . .but now that this song was on. . .

Your mind could only linger in the one place it wanted most of all.

Damn, he’d been incredible last night. Fuck, you thought, your body feeling alert and ready for him, all over again in this moment. The best I’ve ever, ever had.

He’d known exactly what he was doing. . .a fucking pro.

Your clit throbbed at the mere thought of how he’d felt licking at you, lapping up your release. . .

The things he’d said.

“That’s it, baby, that’s it. Let me have it.”

“I was fucking the mattress because I loved getting to tongue fuck the hell out of your perfect pussy.”

Fucking hell.

And then, when he’d been deep inside of you, stretching you out. . .

“So fucking tight.”

You crossed your legs, needing to control yourself in the presence of your sister. The friction of your jeans making it worse. Shit.

Then Jake’s smooth voice invaded your brain again.

“I love this fuckin’ view of you, y/n,” he’d groaned, you could still feel the way his breath hit your shoulder, his dick throbbing inside. “And the way you feel like this—goddamn.”

And then there were the soft things. . .the things he’d done and said that had totally made you feel like a girl with a little crush. The comments that made your tummy flutter.

“You are so fucking beautiful, y/n. Dammit,” he’d said it with awe in his velvety tone. His voice had even hitched on his next words. “This is— you are . . .,” he’d shaken his head, and he hadn’t ever been able to come up with the words.

You went back to that moment — where you’d been totally exposed to him, your wet center wrapped around him, his gaze not able to leave your heaving body. Vulnerability had never been your strong suit, but in that moment, more vulnerable than ever to him. . . It had been okay.

And in this moment, reeling at the thought of it all, you felt prepared to be that opened to him a thousand times over.

Shit.

And finally, there’d been after. . .

“Wanna see your face,” he’d sighed, rubbing at your shoulder, ready to see you after positively fucking ruining you.

Your skin heated, thinking back on the intimacy of the moments shared.

And afterwards, snuggling into him, you had decided so many things. The main thing being that you wanted him more than just that one time.

Why had you tried to convince yourself this morning that you couldn’t—?

And why were you still being a bitch to him over texts? Why were you insistent on not giving it a chance?

He’s a dick, y/n, the annoying, sensible voice echoed at you. And Josh would never forgive you.

Fuck. You were tired of the inner battle.

A hand against your shoulder, shaking you, brought you back to reality.

Holy shit. How had you escaped so fully?

“Earth to my fucking sister!” Elsie continued to move you, her hand grasping your arm.

You slapped her hand away. “Jesus fuck, Elsie,” you snapped at her, looking at your arm after she released it. “You’re going to leave fingerprints! Dammit.”

You were being dramatic, you knew this. She hadn’t gripped you that hard. But you were, admittedly, embarrassed you’d been so gone.

So you’d get onto Elsie instead of focusing on yourself and your sexy, fuckass roommate.

“Oh, shut the hell up, Little Miss Drama Queen,” she punched your shoulder. At your squeaky ‘ow!’, she just rolled her eyes. “You were literally absent. Nowhere near this car. La La Land. Just trying to get you the fuck back. I was talking to you.”

You huffed, rolling your eyes back at her to mask your flushed cheeks. “I’m sorry. Just out of it.”

“Why?”

“No reason.”

“Mom?”

“No.”

“Did Grandpa say something mildly offensive to you when we were there just now?”

You laughed at that. He was definitely more than only mildly offensive. But it wasn’t him. Not even close.

“No.”

“Jake?”

Your silence answered for you. Shit.

Speak, y/n, speak!

How did she know?!

“What the fuck did he do now?” She sassed, glancing sideways at you for a few seconds.

Looking away, you dodged any of her accusing peeks. Needed to divert her. . .move on from her assumptions. Cover up the silence.

“Nothing,” you shifted down in your seat, your feet going up on the dash. “I didn’t even say it was him.”

“You didn’t have to.”

You looked out the window, pretending to be otherwise distracted. You hummed.

“When did Bruno spark your interest again?” You poked back, working to make her argue about something that wasn’t Jake related.

She scoffed. “As if he ever stopped sparking my—hey! No!” She scolded, smacking your arm lightly.

“What?!” You played dumb, rubbing your arm. “I just thought with you buying another record and with us listening—“

“Stop trying to distract me!” She clucked, stopping at a red light and turning the music down. You felt her eyes burning into the side of your skull as you stared out the windshield, now. “You little fuckin’ weasel. Don’t avoid the conversation.”

You huffed a dramatic breath. There were two drastically different parts of you feeling things right now.

One that wanted to tell Elsie absolutely everything, because you knew she’d be the voice of reason you so desperately needed.

And the other part that wanted you to be fair to what you’d asked of Jake. . .which would be to not tell her anything at all.

You were also not looking forward to the shit she’d give you if you were to bare your heart to her about this.

(Because, either way, you had a feeling you knew exactly what she’d say.)

“Elsie, it’s really nothi—.”

“Did you fuck him?”

Shit.

Your heart was racing.

Fuck. What would you say?

What would you do now?

And how did she do this shit?! She’d always been able to read you like a damn book.

You swallowed thickly.

And once again, you let your silence answer for you.

If you didn’t actually say anything, you weren’t technically telling her. . .right?

The light changed to green and minutes passed.

It was slightly awkward. Neither of you said a word until she pulled into a parking space at your complex.

Instead, she’d simply turned up the music in response to your silence.

And that was unlike her. Normally, she’d have something to quip back, right away. You weren’t used to her silence.

You were freaked out.

So, as you walked up the steps to your apartment, you decided you’d be an adult, and be the first person to say something.

“What do you want for dinner?” You asked, almost absentmindedly as you opened the door.

Better to act oblivious. Maybe it would go away.

She followed you in, meandering about, not acknowledging your question for a few minutes.

You tried again, muttering her name in question, “Els?”

She got up from her crouched position to pet Stevie, and when she rose, she looked you square in the eyes with a look that could only be described as pure irritation. Her eyes were blazing.

“What?” Elsie snapped, turning her back to you, hair swishing around her shoulders, then taking her bag to your room. Following her, you saw her plop her bag on the ground next to your bed. She hopped onto it, her feet dangling as she sat there, her eyes downcast. “Why didn’t you want to tell me?” She sounded sad, it made your heart lurch the slightest bit. And then her voice fired up again with her next question. “And why the fuck do you always act like a little puppy that’s been kicked when Jake comes up? What’s wrong with you?”

You couldn’t mask your offense.

“What’s wrong with me?!” You choked. “Why are you acting like this?”

She squeaked, her mouth gaping. “Why am I acting like this?! Why have you been so turned off to the idea of Jake since he came into the picture?”

“Oh, I definitely haven’t been turned off.”

It just slipped out. Shit.

“Ha!” She leaned forward, her elbows on her thighs as she leveled you with a stare. “Then why are you trying so damn hard to deny it?”

You decided it was pointless to reject that you’d said it. Better to just own it. She was the only person you could talk to about this, anyway.

And you needed to talk about it.

You momentarily felt bad for Jake that you’d closed him off to talking about it when you were about to let yourself.

He just couldn’t be trusted to not tell the wrong person . . . Aka his twin. The last person who ever needed to know.

Deciding you didn’t need to worry about it, you continued.

“I just can’t pursue it, Elsie. . .we’ve talked about this,” you sighed, going about taking off your jewelry, placing it delicately where it went every night. Except last night.

You changed out of your jeans and short sleeved button down, and into a pair of smaller comfy shorts and an oversized crop top, revealing the sliver of skin at your hips. Elsie’s eyebrow lifted at your choice in clothing, the lack of material covering your ass. Your eyes set firmly as you glared at her. “Shut up. I wear this kind of shit all the—.”

“Trying to impress your roommate with that ass?” She smirked with her question.

You rolled your eyes, flushing at being caught in your little game you’d caught yourself playing recently. You liked him looking at you.

Yes, but you don’t need to know that, you thought.

But she didn’t stay on it for long when she hopped off the bed to most likely dig in her bag for her own comfy clothes. When she pulled out leggings and a crop top, your suspicions were confirmed. She shut the door to your bedroom before she started changing, she smirked. “I don’t want Jake to see me naked, thank you very much.” Once fully changed, she went to put her hair up in a claw clip. You went to quip back, but she started speaking before you could. “You’re changing with the door open, for God’s sake. How many times have you sexed him up to feel comfortable enough to do that, y/n?”

You scoffed with an eye roll, putting your own hair up in a clip. “First of all, he’s not going to be here tonight. That’s why I changed with the door open,” you pulled a couple tendrils out to frame your face. Your thoughts pulled to the idea of seeing Jake with his hair up. . .now that was a thought. You just knew he’d look so good. “And secondly, we have only. . .done it once.”

“Done it?” She guffawed. “Oh my God, y/n. . . what is it about this man that makes you sound and act like a fucking teenager?”

Putting two hands against your face to cover it, you moaned in aggravation because now she had noticed how he made you act like a fucking school girl. Why did he have you down so bad?

“I don’t know!” You went to sit on the ground and lean against your bed. Bringing your legs up to your chest, you wrapped your arms around them. Your chin sat atop your knees, eyes following Elsie as she took her own jewelry off and threw it in her bag. She joined you next to your sulking form, positioning her body to be facing towards you, crossing her legs. “What do I do, Elsie?”

“Before we get into all of that, I have to ask. . . why are you being so melodramatic?” She inquired, seeming genuinely curious. “You’re making it this giant thing when it doesn’t need to be.”

Why were you making it so big? By doing that, you were giving whatever the hell this predicament was —giving Jake—way more power than necessary.

“I don’t know.”

She squinted at you, her patience obviously wearing thin. “Okay, I’m going to need more than ‘I don’t know’ over and over again. I can’t work with that. Let’s start with the bare bones: do you think he’s cute?”

You literally cackled at that.

“Really? Do I think he’s cute? That is such a juvenile way to—.”

“Well, you’re acting like a juvenile, so fair’s fair. Childish question for someone acting like a child.”

“Jesus. Ouch,” you responded, feeling slightly hurt. But you couldn’t deny seeing her point for exactly what it was.

She rolled her eyes. “You still haven’t answered my question.”

You decided you’d give her exactly what she wanted.

“Firstly, have you seen him?! He’s more than fucking cute, Elsie,” you dazed off, thinking of him. His Amber-brown eyes, his tanned skin, his flowing chestnut locks, and that handsome, sharp nose you’d admired when you’d woken up. And his body. . .fuck. “He’s fucking enigmatic. . .entrancing. . .a sex god. . .,” You lost yourself in the thought of him. The way he walked with so much purpose, how confident he looked on every stage he graced. . .and how all of that upheld in the bedroom. How he—

“Oh damn. . .he’s that good?” She could’ve been eating fuckin’ popcorn with how invested she was in this conversation. “Also, glad you’re not blind. He’s sexy as hell.”

You grinned, looking into the flecks of light filtering into your room with the evening sun. All of the things from last night. . .you felt them overwhelming your brain to help you explain. “He’s more than good. He is the perfect amount of rough and soft. . .he shows he cares about pleasing you with how purposeful—how intentional he is with every damn movement of his hips. . . And he just knew exactly where to hit inside—.”

“Oookay,” she put a hand up to stop you. Your eyes snapped up to her, realizing you’d lost yourself in thought. Your cheeks blushed of their own accord. “I’d love to hear the details, but also . . . Damn. I’ve never seen you so gotten.”

“Gotten? What is this, a Jane Austen novel?” You mocked, covering up how you’d let yourself get away. Absently, you wiped the heel of your palm against the corner of your mouth. You’d literally started drooling.

Embarrassing.

“Um, yeah, might as well be,” she raised a brow, smug. “And the Fifty Shades of Grey version at that.”

“We’ve only had sex once, Elsie,” you reminded. “And it didn’t involve any of that BDSM shit. I’d rather not be compared to that novel, by the way. There are much better books with much better smut.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” she nodded. Her lips curled like the Grinch. “And it sounds like you could write your very own at this point, bitch.”

“Stop,” you shoved her shoulder. “It’s not even. . . It’s not anything. It shouldn’t happen again anyway. I need to just forget about it.”

All of that was a fucking lie. You wanted it to happen again. You never wanted to forget about it.

And it definitely wasn’t nothing.

And Elsie knew it. She growled, shifting up, standing from the ground. Her fists were curled. “Stop being a fucking idiot, y/n! Stop lying to yourself!”

“Idiot?! I’m not being—.”

She held up a finger to stop you. And you weren’t about to say any more. She looked determined to get her piece said.

“And it does mean something. You need to stop sulking and just have regular incredible sex with him,” she placed her clenched fists on her hips, her icy blue gaze penetrating your most stubborn thoughts. “Dammit, sis. Why are you being so obtuse about this?!”

You shrunk back, thinking of all she said. Your chest tightened. “There’s just so much at stake,” your regular thoughts invading. “And he’s inconsistent as hell.”

“Is the possibility of what Josh would think still holding you back? Because who says he has to know? Just keep it between the two of you,” she tucked a loose hair behind her ear, a twinkle in her eye with her smirk. “And me.”

You scoffed. “You’re the idiot,” you remarked, pushing yourself up to stand and lean the backs of your thighs against the bed. Crossing your arms, you gave her a look at the mess inside your mind. “And yes. I cannot chance him finding out. . .knowing what he’d think. I wouldn’t want him to think any differently of me. I’m also stuck on not letting this get in the way—.”

“Get in the way of his dream, yada yada yada . . . On that same bullshit,” she leveled you with a straight stare. “You know what I think of all that.”

“Yes, I do. But what if he does take it too far at some point? What if he lets his emotions become involved and it turns into more than what it is?” Well that was a new fear unlocked. And another was hurtling towards you. “What if I let the sex become more than sex?”

“Then you cut it off,” she reasoned, crossing her own arms. “Be friends with benefits. Don’t let feelings get involved. Have fun with it. . . Friends with benefits can be the best solution for two people dealing with stress,” a lightbulb went off in her head. “And when you’re friends with benefits, you don’t have to be consistent. So he’s good there.”

But what if you wanted him to be more consistent?

The nagging voice in your head came to life suddenly. No, y/n, you don’t care about that. Quit it.

You shook your head, ignoring it. “We aren’t friends,” you corrected.

“Even better.”

“And what am I stressed with?” You asked, knowing every single tiny thing that had been lurking in your mind as of late.

School. What you were going to do with life after school. Your mother.

And, of course, your gorgeous roommate.

But right now, it seemed awfully appealing to just drown it all out with sex. . . Toe-curling, back arching sex with said roommate.

“Something apparently,” she cut through your thoughts. “I don’t know what all is haunting your every thought, but it can’t be fun to live with. And I think letting yourself have something you want—which is obviously Jake’s dick—.”

“Elsie!”

“What?! You do! Let me finish,” she continued. “Letting yourself have something you want would be enough to ease some tension. Just give in. Don’t add one more thing to your plate to stress about when you could just let loose. Have fun while you’re still young and in college. It’s not as easy once it’s all over.”

Your eyes widened, as if she’d unlocked something in your brain. You were only young once.

The idea felt a little more acceptable.

The idea of just fucking him. Just enough to ease stress. Nothing more.

It would feel divine to let loose.

You craved it. You needed that release.

And you only wanted it from him.

How did Elsie do that? Just flip a switch and make you consider something?

She is the only person in your entire life that you quite literally trust with everything, that’s how, the sweet voice in your thoughts reminded you. She’s never let you down.

And so you decided.

“It really wouldn’t hurt anything, you think?”

“Not if you cut things off before you’re more than just friends—excuse me, not friends— having sex,” Elsie reminded. She added with annoyance, “Since you seem so set on a relationship distracting Jake from his dream, that’s what you’d have to do,” her voice softened. “Sex isn’t going to distract him. In fact, it may inspire him even more. Just look at it as you doing him—and yourself— a major service.”

“How do I make sure he knows it can’t go any further than sex?”

And once again, her stare flattened. Damn. Her being annoyed with you was becoming a recurring theme.

“Just. Fucking. Talk. To. Him,” she started walking towards your door, twisting the knob to open it. She looked back at you, with a stern look. “Let him in. Be open to the idea of letting him in just a little more. It’ll be okay. I promise.”

And for the first time since he’d moved in and uprooted everything in your godforsaken life, you felt reassured.

Felt okay with what you’d wanted from him for a very long time.

-🌼🌼🌼-

It was late when your eyes flicked open. You were still sprawled on the couch, where you and Elsie had crashed while watching Friends.

You blinked into the darkness, only lit up by the blue hues of the television.

Elsie was snoring at the other end of the couch, your feet tangled together under a fluffy blanket. The pizza box from the pizza you’d decided to order (and devoured), still laying out on the coffee table.

Before long, you knew what’d awoken you. The overwhelming need to pee was pushing against your bladder.

Still half asleep, you clambered up from the couch, careful not to wake your sister. You glanced at the bright green lettering displaying the time on the microwave.

2:38 a.m.

Shit. You couldn’t even remember when you two had fallen asleep.

When you got to the bathroom, you were caught off guard.

Was that water running? Had Elsie left the sink on?

You scrunched your brows, twisting the knob and pushing the door open to find the sink was on.

But also finding a very naked Jake using said sink. His long wet hair sticking to his damp skin.

Heat immediately flooded to the bottom of your belly and between your thighs.

You couldn’t help but admire his physique. Right there in front of you. His broad shoulders, looking freshly tanned and freckled from the sun. His waist begging to have your arms wrapped around it.

And his thick cock, impressive even when soft.

Damn this man.

But—

“Why are you home?!” You started with an edge in your tone, for no reason whatsoever. You didn’t fucking care that he was home. In fact, you wanted him here. There was no reason to question.

He was brushing his teeth, so he didn’t respond, instead his dark eyes connected with yours in the mirror. He raised a brow, seeming to challenge your words.

Your body reacted to his facial expression. Your tummy erupted in butterflies.

“Don’t lift your damn eyebrow at me,” you said quietly, letting your feet guide you further into the muggy room, closing the door softly behind you.

Jake eyed you curiously in the mirror, looking slightly surprised at what you were doing. But before too long, his gaze became sultry, luring you in further. He turned towards you, locking his deep brown irises with yours. Then, he raised his brow again, playing with you.

In the back of your mind, all you could hear were Elsie’s words:

Let loose.

So, without really thinking—more-so giving into the moment—, you sank to your knees in front of him.

You could play with him, too.

As if he knew what you were getting ready to do, he was already half-hard by the time you were holding him in your hand.

Your hand gripped him softly, feeling him. How soft the skin was, stretched over his pulsing member. His pink head, equally as soft, already produced glistening precum.

Running a thumb over the slit at the tip, you spread the release over his entire tip. Jake’s hips twitched towards you at that, and you heard a moan emit from the back of his throat.

A hand combed through your hair and tightening it in your locks to indicate he needed you to pause. You peered up at him, seeing him nod toward the sink. You stopped your movements, but kept your hand wrapped around his dick, squeezing a time or two as you let him spit and rinse in the sink.

Jake’s lids closed, head lolling back. His adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed in pleasure, wiping his mouth with the washcloth he’d placed next to the sink.

You continued your teasing movements and pulled another close-mouthed groan from him, the sound making wetness gather between your legs.

And before long, he was turning all the way around, letting the backs of his thighs hit the front of the bathroom counter. He let his open palms rest on the countertop, his thighs tense and ready for you to continue.

Looking up to see his face again, you saw him nod down at you, in your direction this time.

“Keep going,” he commanded in his low tone.

Your skin heated, and you had to push your thighs together as you went back in. Your hands stayed on the tops of your clenched thighs.

You added your mouth this time, closing your lips around the top half of his pretty cock to savor him with a moan that vibrated around his thickness. He jerked his hips towards you harshly.

“Shit,” he groaned.

You went further down his shaft, letting your wet mouth envelop him almost entirely, then you slid back up, letting your tongue smooth along the underside of his dick. When you made it back to his tip, you curled your tongue to trace the crease at the base of his head.

He shuddered, a hand finding your hair again. You went to grab his thigh with one of your hands to steady yourself, the other hand grasping at his smooth balls. You felt more wetness gather at your thighs at how incredibly groomed he was.

You’d never been with someone who paid such close attention to taking care of himself.

Massaging his balls in your hand, you held tightly to his thigh as your mouth made its way back down his length. This time, you went all the way to the end, your mouth just barely connecting with his tanned and toned stomach. The muscles there clenched as you felt his tip connect with the back of your throat.

You felt tears gathering at the corners of your eyes, but didn’t gag as you showed him one of your most secret party tricks.

He tensed more, and you felt the hard muscle of his thigh tighten impossibly beneath your hand.

“Fuuuuuck, y/n. How —? Your mouth—your fucking throat—shiiiit. . .,” he practically whined out, shifting his hips up so his cock smoothed ever-deeper down your waiting throat. You sucked on him the best you could from your position, your wet mouth tightening around him. He whimpered, a sigh leaving his mouth. “Feels so fucking—mmm,” he tangled a hand in your hair once more, bringing you closer into him.

You glanced up to admire what he looked like at that moment. His head was tossed back and all you could see was his glistening throat, his drying hair sticking to it. The columns of his throat were strong, bulging as he continued to give tiny little thrusts, replying to the hold you had on him with your mouth and throat.

But when he glanced down, his hooded lids revealed hungry eyes, the blacks of his pupils covering almost his entire iris. . . You realized you wanted—no, needed— more.

So, as much as you could handle this, you decided in order to use your tongue on him, and taste him like you wanted, you had to readjust.

You used the hand on his thigh to trail up to his hip and gripped him there, releasing a noise to let him know you were moving. You slid your mouth back down him, his tip nudging against your uvula as it left its tight, cozy spot at the top of your throat.

The sound that came from him was a combination of a sigh, a gasp, and a whine.

Shit.

Your body’s reaction to his sounds, the feeling of him gliding on your tongue. . .it made moisture gather on the insides of your thighs, still pushed tight together.

You were feeling all of the effects of the situation. It was fucking glorious. Having him at your mercy, snug in your mouth.

You rubbed your thighs together the best you could to create the friction you needed, your arousal slick between them.

You released the smallest cry from your mouth, the sound muffled around his hardness. It felt good to relieve some of the tension. But you needed more.

Fuck. You loved getting to hold him in your mouth, but. . .

Your pussy was aching for him.

As if reading your thoughts, before you knew it, your mouth was being pulled the rest of the way from Jake’s hard dick. His hands used their place in your hair to gently remove you.

Once he’d removed himself from your mouth, Jake yanked you up by your armpits. He held your sides and once again surprised you with his strength when he lifted you to sit atop the sink.

It was so reminiscent to your night in the bathroom last week, but this time. . .fuck— it was about to be so much better.

He tapped the slightest bit against your hip, and you knew what it was he wanted. You lifted your hips, quickly sashaying out of your thong and small pair of sweatshorts you’d absolutely worn in the hopes he’d see you in them.

Being caught by Elsie earlier had made you fully realize that it was something you’d started doing absentmindedly within the past month. You fucking loved it when you’d catch him looking at you. . .the fleeting glances he’d think you didn’t see.

His little peeks at the curve of your ass, peeking out from the hem of your shorts.

Finally, you took off your oversized cropped T-shirt, revealing to him your lack of bra. And his dark pupils overtook the entirety of his chocolate irises.

Your nipples hardened even more under his wanting stare.

“I take my bra off when I go to sleep,” you added, for no reason whatsoever. You were obviously still tired (and a little bit nervous), saying nonsense. “You didn’t need to know that, sorry.”

He grinned, his eyes softening the slightest bit. “I like knowing little things like that about you.”

Your insides became mush at his words for some reason, your arousal peaking.

He placed one hand on your breast, massaging the soft flesh in his palm. You both looked down at it, admiring the way it looked as he held it. The feeling of your hardened nipple rolling against the palm of his hand was almost too much. You bucked up into the air.

So, sensing your need, he released your breast and moved the same hand to momentarily hold and caress your cheek. Your lusty gazes entwined, seeing each other.

He was so handsome.

And lately, you’d come to realize that you felt truly seen anytime he was looking at you.

This moment was soft, his other hand going to grasp your hip, holding you in place. He nudged between your wet folds with the head of his dick, waiting on you. You shifted your hips to welcome him.

Then, without any more warning, he slammed into you, your ass shifting on the porcelain of the sink in the counter. You’d totally forgotten about your sister in the living room and released a loud yelp, followed by a pleased moan at the feeling of him.

Filling you up so well.

He shushed you, then pressed his mouth to yours to take in your satisfied, hungry sounds. His tongue entered your mouth, swallowing up every noise you made.

He stayed inside you, pounding into you relentlessly, hitting every spot he somehow just knew existed. Your whines were persistent, barely able to be covered by his mouth.

So, when he came up for air, he placed his warm hand over your mouth, careful to not cover your nose. You sighed sadly at not being able to elicit the noises he brought out in you. You didn’t know why, but it felt right to be loud with him. The way he fucked you—the action itself demanded you be loud.

When you locked eyes with his pretty brown ones, yours were begging and desperate to let him hear you. He acknowledged you with an, “I know,” right before you rutted your hips up to meet his, and he met your movement with one of his own, harder. You whined behind his hand, biting at the flesh. He bit his lip, his eyes darkening. “Fuck,” he groaned. “I wanna hear you. But your sister is in the other room. We need to be quiet.”

Oh. You blanched at that. You hadn’t necessarily forgotten about her, but everything outside of this bathroom had ceased to exist when you’d walked in and seen him bare ass naked.

You weren’t ready to be done with this, but you knew it wasn’t proper etiquette to be in here, fucking your roommate, with someone on the next room.

Even though you wanted to just say ‘fuck it’, him reminding you of Elsie also reminded you of your urge to pee. And you really weren’t prepared for her to catch you in the midst of the act.

You’d never live that down.

“Then finish the fuck up so I don’t have to worry about it,” you decided to sass in response, rocking your hips in little figure eights to entice him. “Finish it.”

Jake’s features quickly shifted from soft and understanding to something much darker, making your pussy get even wetter around his thick shaft.

His head bent back a bit, his stern eyes staying firmly on you. “One of these days, you’ll learn that you don’t always get to call the fucking shots.”

Your heart raced at his words, chest rising and falling with labored breaths. But you weren’t about to let him have the final say.

“If you want to finish fucking me, you have five minutes,” you said, not meaning the words in the slightest. “So hurry,” rock. “The fuck,” rock. “Up.”

And with your last word, he met your thrust harshly with a growl from low in his throat. Your head flew back, his hand going flat, just in time, against the mirror so you’d hit the back of his hand instead of the glass.

You bit your lip to mask a whine at the sensation of his tip repeatedly hitting your g-spot.

With every jut of his hips, you saw stars. The feeling of his sharp, purposeful thrusts, your head hitting his hand with each one. He’d slide almost all the way out, and then all the way back in.

Your lip was near bleeding with how hard you were biting into it.

And suddenly, you felt the familiar unwinding of the tight ball in your stomach, letting way to your sweet relief of release.

It was spiraling towards you. . .his thrusts never let up, his hard cock never leaving you all the way.

You were not ready for it to be over. But with one final, purposeful rut of his hips, his tip connected especially hard with your secret spot and you felt the ball unwind. You pinched your eyes shut, throwing your head back, your legs tensing, as your back arched. You instinctively went to wrap your quivering legs around his hips to hold him to you as it washed over you.

All you saw were bright, blinking stars against a black sky. And Jake. So much Jake.

“Fuck!”

His voice snapped you out of your trance, along with him tapping earnestly at your thigh, and quickly you let him untangle himself as you knew what was coming.

And as soon as he’d pulled his throbbing cock out of you, he was grabbing the washcloth that was still on the counter, sitting next to you, making a mess of his cum into it.

You were still too out of it to look at his face as he came, your fucked out daze locking you in on watching how his pretty dick pulsed against the towel, releasing. Your lip was still being held between your teeth in a tight grip, observing this sexy display in front of you.

When he finished taking care of himself, wiping off into the towel, you snapped out of watching him. The need to pee, nudging at your bladder again with a vengeance.

You shoved him away from where he was standing in front of you.

“Okay, now leave,” you continued to push him to the door. “I have to pee.”

And, shockingly, without protest, he was gone. His brown eyes had been blissed out, a soft smile on his features as he flitted out.

When you were finally sitting on the toilet, feeling the relief you’d needed so desperately from your bladder, you sighed happily.

I could get used to this regular sex with Jake thing, you thought, a satisfied smirk settling on your lips.

Then, as you washed your hands over the sink Jake had just fucked you on, an idea came to you.

And maybe some rules will keep us in line. Rules will help. They always help.

-🌼🌼🌼-

a/n: i'm so ready to share M O R E (the rest of this chapter is...... eeeek!!)... please let me know your thoughts! you know i love hearing from you all :) <3

(do you think you know now what's going to turn Reader's life upside down?)

if you’d like to be added to the taglist, please let me know!

& as usual, it wouldn’t let me tag some of y’all. :( so please check to see that you’re down there because if you’ve asked to be on the taglist, i tried to tag you. buuuut tumblr wouldn’t let me do it for everyone 🙃 ugh. and if i somehow forgot to tag someone, please also let me know that! (i'm a NOOB and i have terrible memory)

Taglist: @joshym, @gretavanfleetposts, @alyson814, @fretaganvleet, @lallisonl, @writingcold, @gvfpal, @twinszka, @jessicafg03, @reesetrippingthelight, @sacredjake, @laurenlovesgretavanfleet, @gretavangroove, @222headedcalf, @dreamssingold, @carbondancingthroughtime, @raviolilegs, @way-to-go-lad, @jakekiszkasmommy, @katgvf, @objectsinspvce, @jaketlover, @vanfleeter, @thetroublegetssloud71, @seditabets, @jakekiszkapunchmeintheface, @jaketlove, @ohgodthefeeling-gvf, @starcatcher-jake, @anythingforjtk, @lucimoo, @indigostreakmorgan, @gretavanbear, @katelynn-gvf, @alwaysonthemend, @aintthatapity, @bowievanfleet, @fwzco, @takenbythemadness, @cherry-icecreamsmile, @laneygvf, @hi-hi-hello11, @sinarainbows, @jakesbarbarian, @mybussyinchrist, @becinabubblegvf, @heckingfrick, @danigvf, @pinkandsleepy1934, @derrangeddumpsterfire, @klarxtr

#jake kiszka x reader #jake kiszka fic #jake kiszka fanfic #jake kiszka smut #greta van fleet fic #greta van fleet fanfic #jake fic #jake kiszka #covet #my fics

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xmycxx · 9 months

Text

tattoo!artist ellie x reader (more headcannons)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Sketchbook hc's

A/N: This is just, general stuff i was thinking of bc y'all loved this AU and i finally have some time

Dates with tatto!artist ellie

i feel like ellie, specifically tattoo artist ellie wouldn't like the huge romantic dates like going to a fancy restaurant and overdressing for it

nah

she'd def take you to a fair and hold your hand on the rides you think are scary though

you mention you like a brand? she's subscribed to their mailing list so she knows when they have stuff on sale (bc she knows you hate spending more money than you have to) and takes you there

and you're still clueless, you just think she has some sort of magic intuiton for saving money

she prefers smaller, more meaningful dates, to the point where she'd much prefer watching a movie over at your house with a pizza over getting anxiety over going somewhere fancy

Gifts

The gays def know that getting tattoo's are fuckin EXPENSIVE

so ya girl is rich and basically fuckin loaded bc of it

in turn, once she gets comfortable, she love love LOVES spoiling you

"Babe," You called out, frowning in mild exasperation at the item in your room. It wasn't that you didn't appreciate the gesture. It was just that the top was 80. fucking. dollars.

"Yea?" Ellie asked, feigning innocence and following you in your room, grinning when she saw the t-shirt in your hands. "Fits?"

"Ellie, it's almost the same price as the headphones i use," You argued, a little exasperated with this. She rolled her eyes, grinning and coming to place her hands on your hips.

"C'mon, try it on?" She asked, unfazed as you shook your head.

"Please? For me?"

By god, she could get you to do anything by just saying that. You did as she asked, and you loved it. You never would've bought it for yourself, but when you modelled it for Ellie, her smile was worth more than 3 of those tops.

You don't really go for the more expensive gifts, knowing Ellie prolly won't appreciate them much

handmade! gifts!

like, let's say you gave her a handmade bracelet or something

or like, a gimmick (gonna use a personal example here)

your friend has some spare clay or something, so you take a chunk and model it into something you knOW is super super dumb

you take the dimensions of her fav tattoo pen and make a lil snake or sm to wrap around it and make it with huge googley eyes bc it looks so creepy and weird it's hilarious

you give it to her, trying your hardest not to laugh

she finds it fuckin HILARIOUS

she doesn't use it in the shop, scared of being called a simp

instead finds a marker she uses for sketching and puts it on that, it's her favorite marker now

Affection? hugs? kisses? awkward?

i feel like ellie is not very big on pda when you first start out

like very hesitant, doesn't want to cross any lines

if you're more affectionate, she still keeps you at arms distance until she's sure she wants to indulge you

if you're not affectionate like me then it actually works for her, she slowly initiates the affection

i think she'd love hand holding the most

espECIALLY when you trace her tattoos or her lil callouses on her hands

ugh she meLTS

not huge on the PDA, like the mandatory cheek kisses, forehead pecks etc.

if you're huge on it, welcomes it with open arms

if you're not, goes for the basic linking pinkies

you actually asked her once why she doesn't like it that much

"why do i need to show other people you're mine? I mean, I'm pretty secure in the fact that you're my girlfriend, why does the rando across the street need to see my tongue down your throat to get that?"

you choked on your drink at that answer

however, that attitude takes a 180 turn when she's jealous

A/N: Give me headcannons for jealous ellie, i have nOne. Also, what do y'all think of this?

#tlou #tlou 2 #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #tattoo!artist ellie #ellie x reader #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x POC reader #ellie williams #ellie williams fluff #ellie williams tlou #MYC's writings

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just-a-sleepy-idiot · 1 year

Text

Spn Gabriel Headcanons: Being your Archangel

Written for @thewitcheress2389 for giving me the coolest Birthday gift!! (on a different post now cause on mobile ppl couldn’t even see the title before because of ask post ratio)

He thought he was duty free ever since he fled heaven but oh no sir, thats about to change when he meets you

You’re the youngest sister of Dean and Sam and when he first heard of your existence he was both intrigued and cautious, cause on one hand that means another Winchester to play with and on the other that could be an indication of even more destiny crap

What he didn’t expect was that said Destiny was tied to him cause when he laid eyes on you he felt that strange heavy feeling in his chest that remind him of the divine forces up when he was in heaven

He tries to stay far far away from you at first, but that seems to make it worse, up to a moment were he felt terribly alerted and appeared just in time to save your life. Thats when he knows- he’s your Guardian Angel

He hates it. Why the fuck does it have to be him huh? And a Winchester too? He is about to send some hate mail via prayer to God when you timidly thank him, still unsure who or what he is since your brothers refrained from talking to him

He pauses and presses his lips together, but eventually that signature smirk is there again and he fully turns towards you „I don’t think we‘ve been introduced yet, might be cause your brothers have an extensive history of being party poopers.“ You laugh in surprise and take his hand to shake

Your brothers are r a g i n g when he tries to explain the situation to him cause he gotta, now that he’s gonna be with you for a while but your defense of him snaps them out of it and rather causes confusion- why do you trust this guy? You can’t explain it in a way that differs from the bond he described

He signs off and expects to appear when needed, what he didn’t expect was for you to call him down to.. chat

Gabriel will make innuendos and cheeky remarks just cause he doesn’t know how to handle this.. genuine way of affection

You will ask him about himself, not about all the heaven stuff but actually about him as a person, not as a soldier from god. He will quietly smirk and eye you for a moment before answering honestly

You‘ll take note of his love for sweets and call him down surprisingly to share them with him

„Gabriel“ „..Yes? Y/n?“ He‘ll rise his brows in amusement and you sternly present him a cookie, „This is delicious. Absolutely fantastic. Here.“ You offer him half of it and make space on the couch for him

He‘ll laugh and sit next to you to eat it, both of you making faces and sounds because of how delicious it is. He shakes his head as he glances over to you for a moment. You just thought of him because of a cookie? You’re a curious one. He likes that

You‘ll end up having inside jokes and develop a secret handshake just to annoy your brothers. He never thought that a Winchester could be fun like this

He gets very, very mad whenever something happens to you but honestly he‘ll be more angry at himself for not being there soon enough. Gabriel will easily snap at anyone in this state, not leaving your side until you’re fully ok again even if it’s just a broken leg in the end. Then he‘ll sit opposite you and put your leg on his lap

He doesn’t even notice how he develops a habit of playing with your hair, leaning his legs into yours when you’re sitting next to each other and how he‘ll pick you up to spin you around or just throw you over his shoulder randomly when he’s in a goofy mood

He‘ll give you nicknames to annoy you but when he ends up using them they always kinda sound cute. You give him joking nicknames too to see his reaction, like Agent G or Senior Snickers but he‘ll start referring to himself that too at some point

Some nights you can’t fall asleep because of the things you‘ve seen as a hunter. In those nights he will show you his favorite crappy Cartoons and joke so much until you wake up your brothers with laughter

On some days, especially when he’s seen one of his brothers, he‘ll just appear and want to sot next to you. He will try to appear normal but you know immediately if somethings off so you tell the guys to go hunting without you this time and stay back to spend time with him

ALSO he will listen in if you sing in the shower and be cheeky about it later but his mockery somehow turns into a Karaoke contest when you bet who sings better. Castiel will sing too but he will rather just.. read the text rather than sing and you‘ll two be his background singers

Please comment you guys, I get my motivation to write from your feedback!!

#gabriel x reader #supernatural gabriel x reader #spn gabriel x reader #spn gabriel

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little-annie · 3 months

Text

Tape N⁰1

---

Steddie | 4.6k 🔞

Read on ao3 ⤵️

---

Okay, so maybe Steve Harrington was a little, just a touch, Bi- Curious.

A term he'd learnt from Robin when he'd mentioned his curious thoughts from his teen years-

Everyone feels this way, right? Like, guys dream about other guys but also girls, so that's not gay, right? And it's totally normal to feel my heartbeat pick up when a man gets naked on TV, right? Everyone feels that way about Johnny Depp, he's a good looking guy.

-and she explained to him, quite simply, "Steve, honey, that's kinda gay." To which he responded with a simple "Huh," and then was instructed to maybe watch a gay porn and see how it makes him feel. He supposed it was the safest option anyway. Going out to a bar and picking up a guy could go wrong in more ways than one. He liked his face, thought it was quite pretty actually and didn't want to have it rearranged along with his brain for yet another time. At least with watching a tape, he was safe and not using another person for his self exploration. Well, like with porn that's what the actors expected and consented to upon filming. Right? So what's the harm?

—

Their morning was the usual, Steve waking up at the ass crack of dawn to go out for a run, getting home just in time to witness Eddie shuffling from the kitchen to the living room, settling onto the couch with his feet tucked beneath him, holding a large mug that contained probably a pound of sugar and a few dozen ounces of coffee. His hair was ungodly, smashed flat on one side and frizzy to all hell on the other. Always ringless and clad in simple grey sweatpants or sometimes just his boxers. The sight alone made Steve's stomach flutter, let alone the fact that he was the only person on the planet that got to witness Eddie in this form.

Sleepy and a touch grumpy because "Jesus H. Christ, Steve, close the damn blinds, it's too early for sunshine,” Eddie was never a morning person or for as long as Steve knew him anyway. The young metalhead getting out of bed and wanting pure silence and dim lighting to slowly ease him into the land of the living, plus needing a terrifying amount of caffeine and sugar to consider him a functional human being, maybe some people would think he was a dick in the morning but if Steve was honest with himself, he kinda loved it.

On the mornings where Eddie didn't come shuffling out of his room like a grumpy gremlin, maybe because he had a nightmare and couldn't sleep and didn't want to wake Steve up for the third time that week to climb into his bed for moral support, Steve would brew him a cup of coffee, make his favourite for breakfast (chocolate chip pancakes) and knock gently on his door, to say a quiet good morning and set the tray of goodies on the floor in front of Eddie's door for when he got up.

But this morning, the pair had some time for each other, a rare occurrence for their mornings. Steve's classes didn't start until 1pm and Eddie was up before he'd left. Steve drew the blinds closed, allowing only a gentle flow of sunshine to enter the room and sat on the opposite end of the couch before taking a chance to talk to Eddie before 9am.

Gently nudging the other man's thigh with his socked foot, Steve gained Eddie's attention, though his expression with something combined of a scowl and smile, like he was trying to keep up his grumpy morning routine but didn't entirely hate Steve.

"You sleep alright last night?"

The doe eyed man simply shook his head before he took a long sigh, slouching deeper into the couch and spoke, voice still gravely from sleep or more likely the lack of, "No, but I have to mail a few packages and actually have shit to do today, so here I am, amongst the living far too early for a man who only just fell asleep at 4am."

That wasn't totally out of the ordinary, Eddie was a bit of a night owl, but he looked exhausted, dark circles under his eyes and complexion somehow whiter than usual. "Nightmares?" Steve asked, knowing the answer was more likely than not a yes.

Eddie hummed an affirmative, taking another sip of his coffee and scowling out the window when he heard a car alarm outside begin to go off

"You know, if it still helps, you're always more than welcome to wake me up or join me. I don't mind. I'd rather lose a few minutes myself while you climb into bed versus you losing several hours." If anything, it made Steve's nights easier too, he still had nightmares but after years of coping with them on his own, he had a system down. Wake up, have a shower, maybe go for a walk and just start his day from there, as long as it was after 4 am anyway. But with Eddie by his side, he felt safe, hardly had nightmares when the man was in his bed and conscious of it or not, Eddie always seemed to know when they did occur. Rolling over in bed to pull Steve against his chest or carding his fingers through his hair.

But last time that happened, they woke up nothing short of tangled together, morning wood ever present and Eddie quite literally springing from bed upon the realisation. At first Steve was hurt, but like he kinda gets it now, he knows Eddie's gay, the guy probably felt guilty or something of that sort upon realising their predicament. But it's not like he knew Steve was (probably/ realising he was at the time) Bi-Sexual and honestly was kinda into the metalhead. Hell, if Steve woke up hard and cuddled into a friend he thought was straight, his reaction would probably be the same.

"Eddie I mean it,-" Steve persisted after receiving a noncommittal nod as an answer, "-if you're worried about last time,-" Eddie's gaze shifted to meet his once again, amber eyes hooded by dark thick lashes, a subtle blush creeping up the young man's cheeks, "- don't be, I didn't mind."

"You didn't mind," Eddie quietly scoffs, "-you didn't mind your raging homosexual of a roommate getting a stiffy in your bed? Ha, sure Harrington. Let alone it digging into your thigh?" He scoffs again, averting his eyes back to a random stain on the carpet in front of him, trying to hide the blush on his cheeks behind his coffee mug.

Shrugging, feigning confidence and totally not freaking out over his minor confession, Steve remains persistent, "Didn't mind it."

It was then that he watched Eddie's nose crinkle and brow furrow, an indecipherable look on his face that only grew more puzzling to understand as his eyes shifted back to meet Steve's. Almost like he was searching for something but wasn't quite sure what.

They remained silent for a few minutes, the ambient sound of the city bleeding through their brick walls and into their bones, the sound of coffee being sipped and shallow almost anxious breathing.

Then it occurred to Steve, if Eddie was going to be out this morning maybe he'd finally have time to watch one of those tapes Robin suggested. "Hey, um, wh- when are you gonna be back?"

Eddie hummed in question, taking a sip of his coffee, refusing to look at the man next to him.

"When will you be back? I uh, I could try to have lunch ready for you before I leave for class." Not that he wasn't asking an honest question, he was, he'd probably pop a frozen lasagna in the oven to be ready for when Eddie got home, but he also wanted to know how much time he had to himself for his 'research' while Eddie was out.

"Eleven, maybe." Eddie quietly spoke into his mug, downing the rest of his coffee, getting up and quietly padding back to the kitchen.

Before Eddie could disappear back into his room, Steve spoke up glancing at the stack of boxes piled by their front door, "Okay, well, I'll have something ready for lunch before I leave then. Hey, uh, you need some help getting those boxes down to your van?”

Eddie worked his jaw, seeming to consider the offer before drawing in a silent breath and waving Steve off with a flick of the wrist, "Don't you worry your pretty little head Harrington, I got it."

—

Twenty minutes later Eddie was making his way out the door, boxes in hand as he smiled and wished Steve a good rest of his morning.

And okay, so maybe the indication of how excited Steve was to watch those tapes should have been proof enough.

Perched by the window his heart hammered in his chest as he waited to watch Eddie drive off in his van. No more than seconds later did Steve find himself scrambling to his room, digging out the tape from under his bed and popping it into the VCR in the living room.

Much too eager to even take the extra few steps to the couch, Steve plopped down feet from the TV and sat crisscrossed, waiting for the tape to roll.

Whoever had the tape before (which ew, now that Steve thought about that, hopefully the guy washed his hands) neglected to rewind the tape and apparently so did the video store. Without much warning the deep growl of moans began to pour from the TV in front of him and a blur of bare, tanned, hairy skin danced across the TV. It took a moment for Steve to process what was actually happening, but at least he wasn't appalled so that meant something he guessed and the sound of a man's deep groan made his briefs tighten, but immediately he knew this specific tape wasn't for him. He supposed he didn't find the men attractive, they were good looking, sure, but cookie cutter and lacking anything that he'd consider to be unique, alluring. No tattoos, pricing, scarring. Nothing that set them apart from the rest he supposed.

With less reservation then he probably should have had, Steve popped the tape out and without a thought pushed to look back in his and Eddie's tape collection. Behind the mix of horror, action and rom-coms, Steve found Eddie's not so secret, secret stash of porn tapes.

Was this over stepping some boundary ... maybe… but Eddie was a gay man, supposedly one with taste so it couldn't hurt to look. Out of the handful of tapes, they were surprisingly similar to the one Steve just ejected. Tanned, muscular, hairy men, some in gym shorts or cropped sports jerseys, but there was one, unmarked black case and a sticky tab on the tape that read "N⁰. 1" . It was weird but weird had to mean something other than cookie cutter right?

So Steve popped the tape in.

Sitting on the floor in front of the TV, Steve watched as the static turned to a dark, poorly lit bedroom, the only light being that of a lamp covered with a hanky. The low droll of metal music played in the background, audible enough to drown out the steps of the man walking into the frame. He was hardly visible, the dark glow of the room set a beautiful cast of shadows over his toned back and mess of long dark curls.

Already Steve was intrigued, this tape had a set of mystery, darkness and need. He felt his heart hammer in his chest sending the blood rushing south and he hadn't even seen anything other than this man's backside. But what he had seen was breathtaking.

Yeah this would do.

Before he missed anything too important Steve checked the clock, he still had over an hour until Eddie got home. With more haste than necessary, he ran to his bedroom, retrieving a box of tissues and a bottle of lube. By the time he settled back on the floor in front of the TV, the man on the screen was laying on a bed, leaning back on his elbow as his one hand lazily stroked his generous length. Steve wished he could see the guy's face, wanted to watch his eyes and the twist of his lips as he let subtle gasps escape into the air, but the man's identity was hidden in the shadows. His lower abdomen to toes only visible in the frame.

Fucking good enough though.

Soon enough Steve mirrored the man's position, leaning back on an elbow, sweatpants wrangled just low enough to expose himself, heavily lubed hand matching the steady pace in front of him. Breathy gasps began to climb their way up his chest while he continued to take in the body before him. A slender toned frame and subtle muscles flexing with every twist of a wrist.

'Fuckin’… Christ …' followed by louder gasps and shaky breaths, the voice on the screen groaned, its owner's pace quickening once again, the bed beginning to gently shake under his haste.

The man's voice alone nearly sent Steve over the edge, for some reason it sounded so familiar but good god did it do something to him. "Oh fuck," Steve gasped, digging his nails into the carpet below him, toes curling and ecstacy boiling in his veins. He was so close. Moving quickly Steve pulled his shirt up his chest, exposing a blank canvas ready to be painted. Biting his lip, until nearly painful, he moaned along with the man on the screen, hardly being able to keep his eyes open from pleasure alone.

He wanted to watch the other man come goddammit, he wasn't going to finish until he did. Thankfully he didn't need to wait much longer, staggered movements and a deep rattling groan later Steve joined the man in toppling over the edge. The sound alone made his bones ache for more.

Chest and stomach painted white, air hot and breaths staggered, Steve took a minute to collect himself. Listening to the man on the screen pant, barely catching the smattering across his lower abdomen, Steve wanted to crawl through the TV screen and lick the dark haired beauty clean. Though apparently he was capable of that himself, moving into the light enough to expose a dim shadow of his lower face the man lifted his hand to his mouth, licking off any and all traces of his own release with a deep groan of satisfaction.

"Holy fuck," Steve gasped, out of breath and taking more effort than he deemed typically necessary to lean forward and stop the tape to rewind it. As the VHS spun back to its beginning, Steve took his time lazily cleaning his chest and stomach, come getting stuck in his copious amounts of body hair as he went. He'd have to shower before he went to class for sure.

With a groan and shaky knees Steve got off the floor, tucking himself back into his sweats when he remembered he'd promised Eddie lunch. "Fuckin' Munson," he huffed to himself, knowing for a fact if he didn’t feed Eddie the man would forget to himself. Making his way to the bathroom to wash his hands and start a shower, Steve soon found his way back to the kitchen, popping the frozen lasagna into the oven and heading back into the living room to clean up the disaster he left behind.

Shoving the tapes back in their designated spots, porn in the back, rom-coms in the front, it eventually looked as if Steve was never there. Minus the image burned into his brain of his dick in hand and another man's body on TV.

Carrying on like normal, almost an hour later Steve found himself in the shower thinking of the man again. Long dark hair, lean and toned figure, a raspy groan that'll forever be ringing in his ears and how badly he'd wished he could have seen his face and feel his skin beneath his fingertips. Maybe the guy had more tapes. Oof, imagine that. Would it be weird to ask Eddie if he had any more of this guy?

Probably.

After painting the walls of the shower white and gasping so aggressively his throat was sore, Steve wrapped a towel around his waist, the fabric irritating his overly spent cock and padded back into the main living area.

Perched on a bar stool at the kitchen island he couldn't help but chuckle to himself knowing he'd have to give Robin an update on his research findings. That'd make for an interesting conversation. But before he could even begin to dwell on the topic the buzzer to the oven sounded signalling the Lasagna was ready.

Hair damp and still only in a towel, Steve made his way to the stove where he pulled on a pair of oven mitts and opened the oven door to feel the rush of heat wash over him. Typically soothing, the warmth was a bit much after his recent activities so with a huff of lingering exhaustion Steve removed the lasagna. And because his mind was too preoccupied with 'Holy Shit, I'm 100% Bi-Sexual & Jesus I just watched Eddie's porn,' he didn't quite hear the door to the apartment open but he sure heard as Eddie's loud, sing songy voice bellowed, "Honey, I'm-"

Though he heard it, it scared the shit out of him too, causing him to jump and brush the metal pan against his gut. Searing his skin he tossed the pan on the stove top with a yelp, "Ah! FUCK!"

The motion of the jump in pain also caused his towel to hit the floor.

"Steve you alright?" Eddie called from the entryway where he was probably toeing off his shoes, voice bleeding concern before he rushed to the kitchen.

Buttass naked and cursing under his breath at the pain blooming on his stomach, Steve tried to gather his bearings before Eddie entered the room, "Don't come in here, give me a sec."

But of course it was too late, Steve was bent over grabbing his towel, ass facing out of the kitchen, pointing directly to Eddie who was rounding the corner and stifled a rather obvious giggle at the sight before him.

"Fuck man," Steve huffed in embarrassment, standing upright wrapping his towel securely around his waist, wincing when the fabric brushed his fresh burn.

Cheeks growing redder by the second, it took Eddie a moment to meet Steve's eye but when he did, he couldn't help but appear concerned, "You okay there, Big Boy?"

Steve deadpanned, moving to the sink to get a cool cloth to soothe his burn, "Please do not call me Big Boy after you just saw me naked"

"All I saw was your ass! Nothing else, I swear!"

"Uh-Huh," Steve laughed to himself, wincing once again as the miniscule movement of his skin pulled at his new brand.

The room silent for all of two seconds, Eddie took the time to glance over Steve's nearly nude form while he searched for the source of the younger's outcry, only noticing the blooming red mark above Steve's towel as the man moved to drench a rag in the running water.

"Oh, you burnt yourself," Eddie's voice was concerned, caring, almost soothing in itself. With careful steps he approached Steve who was now leaning against the sink, cool cloth pressed to his scorched skin. Eddie was close, his breath would have ghosted Steve's skin if he stepped any closer, the atmosphere suddenly felt so intimate, the wooden floorboards creaking under his feet with every motion. Eddie's hand hovered mere inches from Steve's that held the cloth, "Let me take a look?" He asked, looking up at Steve through thick eye lashes.

Butterflies swarming in his gut, Steve nodded, eyes never once leaving Eddie's face while he pulled the cool cloth back to reveal his burn. He watched as Eddie's lips turned down and he quietly spoke, "Oh Stevie," the man's eyes remained on the brand as he gently squeezed Steve's wrist and continued, "wait right here, I think I have some burn cream in my room."

What Eddie had burn cream for, Steve didn't entirely know, but he didn't question it, the man was a walking hazard so he supposed it made sense to have precautionary supplies. Before he could ponder the thought much longer Eddie had returned with a small tube in hand.

He was back in Steve's space once again, but now his eyes were focused on Steve's, watery from the pain and pupils still blown wide from his post release bliss. Eddie pursed his lips into a flat line, waving the tube of burn cream between them before he quietly spoke, a nervous tinge to his voice and a blush to his cheeks, "You, uh, you want to do this or you want me to?"

Really Steve should have thought about it more, he was still only wrapped in a towel, dick and balls, a gentle breeze from being revealed or truthfully jolted back to life in what would be an even more embarrassing turn of events, but he didn't think about it much more than that. The want to have Eddie take care of him, forcing the word from his lips before he could second guess himself.

"You," he quietly breathed, knowing his cheeks probably matched the colour of the burn on his tummy.

Eddie swallowed, eyes searching Steve's, working his jaw for a beat before he confirmed, "Yeah?"

Steve nodded, the feeling of butterflies in his gut feeling comparable to a tornado.

"Okay," Eddie gave a single tight nod, eyes focusing on the sink while he waved Steve off to the side, "scooch over then Sugar, I need to wash my hands first."

The nicknames weren't anything new, but they still made the blood in Steve's cheeks churn, he loved them, probably more than he should honestly. But he listened, stepping off to the side while Eddie scrubbed his hands clean, tube of burn cream pinched between his front teeth.

And then he turned towards Steve, cheeks red while he gave him a nervous smile and softly spoken, "Let me know if it hurts too much, ‘kay?"

Steve nodded and tried his damndest to suppress the shiver that racked his body as Eddie stepped back into his space, placing one hand on his bare hip, cool rings a welcome contrast to his flushing skin while he steadied Steve. With soft, gentle movements, Eddie brushed the cream over Steve's burn, if it didn't hurt so much he'd probably be suppressing a moan as opposed to a wince.

Eddie bent closer to the abrasion, checking it over, dull breath barely ghosting over Steve's abs, "You're staying home today okay? I want to keep an eye on that."

And if Eddie was being selfish, wanting to take care of Steve for a day, that was his own secret to keep.

Standing up, Eddie turned to wash his hands in the sink, looking over his shoulder to talk to Steve, "Go put on some sweats, no shirt, we don't want fabric clinging to that and I'll pop in a movie for us."

Steve knew there was no point in arguing but if he remembered right, Eddie had shit to do and he voiced that concern, to which the metalhead responded, "Don't worry your pretty little head. I got my stuff mailed, everything else can wait. Now go get changed, I'll meet you back in the living room."

So that's what Steve did, changed into a pair of sweats he wasn't entirely sure were his or Eddie's, passed on a shirt and settled onto the couch to wait for his roommate. A few minutes later the older man returned in comfy clothes himself, a beer in each pocket, weighing his sweat pants down to a dangerous depth, dark hair peeking out from between the cropped band shirt and hemline of Eddie pants. He deposited two plates and beer onto the coffee table then proceeded to move towards the TV, evidently plopping down where Steve jacked off an hour ago. He picked through the movies until he settled on some Rom-Com.

He turned back to Steve with a smile, "I know, not quite my jam, but you're injured so I guess I'll concede."

Eddie joined Steve on the couch where they cracked a beer and watched the movie in silence until the lasagna had cooled enough to the point where they could actually eat, to which Steve groaned and teased Eddie about his odd choice of topping his own lasagna with Ranch, like a psychopath.

They continued to playfully banter back and forth for the remainder of the movie, Steve nudging Eddie with a socked foot anytime he said something dumb (read: something that made the butterflies in Steve's stomach worse.)

And that's how they spent their day, watching movies, teasing one another and eventually doing the dishes and laundry together. Several movies and a few loads of laundry in, they found themselves perched on the fire escape, night sky hanging above them, backs against the warm brick wall and asses aching from the metal grate beneath them. Shoulders and thighs pressed against one another they smoked in silence, taking in the sounds of the city around them.

"Today was nice," Steve softly spoke, shuffling to sleepily lean his head on Eddie's shoulder, wincing as his burn rubbed against the fabric of his sweatpants in the confined position.

Eddie stilled for a moment, breath hitching while Steve sunk deeper into his position. Eventually taking a shaky breath, he settled and replied, "Aside from burning yourself?"

"Yeah."

"Yeah it was hey?" Eddie's hand found its way to Steve's hair where he gently carded through Steve's once famous locks, "Wish we could do this more often."

Leaning into the touch and ever so slowly melting from the sensation alone, Steve quietly asked, "Why don't we?"

Eddie shrugged, jostling all of the parts of Steve that rested against him until he came up with an answer, "Guess we're both just so busy."

"Well let's not be so busy." Steve yawned before drifting into a momentary slumber, nuzzling deeper into Eddie's shoulder as the city around them soon joined.

—

Later that night Eddie helped to wash Steve's burn and reapply the burn cream, adding a bandage to it for the night to shield it from the blankets that could potentially rub against it and cause irritation. With burning cheeks and a whirlwind of butterflies in their tummies both men found their ways to their own bedrooms, settling in for the evening, reminiscing the last several hours they'd spent with one another. They couldn't remember the last time they'd had a day like that, if they'd even had. But they both knew it was nice, something they could get used to, something they wanted more than just in a blue moon.

That night Steve dreamt of calloused hands brushing over his skin and the moans of a man he'd only heard on the TV.

While Eddie, the night owl, stayed up until the early hours of the morning, withering in his bed under the dark glow of a hanky covered lamp, hand clasped over his mouth to silence his sounds. Simultaneously completing his 'work' for the day and adding to his (and now Steve's) not so secret porn stash beneath the living room TV.

#eddie munson #steve harrington #steve x eddie #eddie x steve #steddie #steddie fandom #steddie fic #steddie fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #steddie smut #pre relationship #gay eddie munson #bisexual steve harrington #steddie post vecna

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bwabbitv3s · 1 year

Text

Good Godfather Vlad AU

~I picture this as the timeline where Vlad goes to therapy after the disaster of the reunion where he sees his friends for the first time in ten years. He thinks it is going to be nothing but anger and hate towards Jack over how he ruined his life. Only for his friends he has not seen collage to ask him about why he never answered their letters they send him over the years.~

"What letters?" Vlad asks. His composure slipped a little at the unexpected revelation.

"Why all the ones we sent you while you were in the hospital. We were not allowed to visit as you were in intensive care which only allows family." Maddie tells Vlad.

"Yeah tried to get them to bend the rule but they would not budge. We attempted to break in three times that first week to visit you once you were stable." Jack says.

"The hospital banned us after that. Not the best decision we could have made but we just got stonewalled at every turn trying to find out how you were." Maddie says sadly.

"We sent you one everyday. You were in intensive care since we could not be there with you. Had to break into the dean's office to get your legal address so the redirection to the hospital would go through." Jack chatters away gesturing wildly. The punch nearly sloshed over in his cheap plastic cup.

Vlad feels like his stomach drops and the room is spinning. He remembers very little of the first week in the hospital. The crushing loneliness and pain as he came in and out the only clear memories. Never once does he remember any letters.

"I never received any letters." Vlad says softly.

"That can't be. We made sure to get them posted directly from the post office to ensure the address and postage was correct." Maddie answers then looks at Jack.

"Yeah we were worried that getting them sent to you in the hospital would be an issue and had the postal worker walk us through how to do it right." Jack says in a gentle voice.

How can it be that he never got any letters? Vlad would remember if he got one sign of his friends not abandoning him back then. He would never have refused to receive mail. Then like a slow motion train wreck he remembers an issue with the college.

"You got my address from the dean's office?" Vlad asks carefully. He hopes dearly that he had heard it wrong the first time.

"Picked the lock at midnight five days after you were hospitalized and broke into his records." Jack answers.

"Took a while to find your file as the filing cabinet was not alphabetized. Very unprofessional of him." Maddie says

"The Dean had my address wrong that year, seven was transcribed as one. It took weeks with the postal department's help to track down anything that was meant to be sent to me. The Undeliverable Mail Depot even had trouble finding anything that was meant to be sent to me." Vlad says in mounting dread.

"You never got any of our letters?" Jack asks.

"We had been sending letters to a non existing address the entire time." Maddie gasps. She starts to step forwards as if to hug him.

"I think I need to leave." Vlad stutters out. He hastily shoves a business card into Maddie's reaching hands. All he can focus on is the high pitch ringing in his ears as something inside him feels like it breaks.

"I need some time. You can use that to reach me later. I just can't right now." Vlad hastily says before Jack can stop him.

Vlad holes up in his hotel room the rest of the night on the phone with the hospital he had stayed at after the accident. It takes little time for him to get the right person and just a tiny bribe to get them to check the mail room for any lost letters without having to be there in person. He waits on hold for an hour before the answer comes through. An entire bankers box full of letters was tucked away in the back with an incorrect mailing address and smudged name. He pays an exuberant amount to get it priority shipped to him.

The next day he avoids everyone from the reunion. Using his powers to hide from the event planners and other graduates. His plans for revenge are dropped as a heavy package arrives at noon that day. With shaking hands he opens it and finds a years worth of faded letters sent to him after the accident.

Tears smudge the one written the day his friends got banned from the hospital. A blurry photo of Jack being escorted off the grounds by security officers is tucked into that letter. A giant teddy bear in neon blue in his hands.

Vlad cancels the next weeks meetings with his company and gets the board to deal with things for a bit. He calls up the ghosts he had hired and tells them the job is off and gives them payment in recompensation for it. Lastly he books a meeting with a therapist.

Now with a Part 2, Part 3, Part 4.

#danny phantom #good vlad au #Danny phantom Au #good godfather vlad #vlad gets therapy #vlad has an emotional breakdown in his hotel room #Jack and Maddie would do crime to make their friend feel better #letters get stuck in postal purgatory #I learned about the undeliverable mail depot for this #Vlad masters #Jack Fenton #Maddie Fenton #Danny fenton

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ilyiwdtpyiwmyhmtkys · 2 months

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could you do some avery grambs headcannons pls? love your work

yes! she’s literally underrated in her own series

~ when she was little she had really big glasses (she still wears them if she really needs them)

~ she has a bunch of little nervous habits that not a lot of people have been able to pick up on (libby and jameson have ofc but yk)

~ she's the kind of celeb to post on social media like once a month but it would only be for like a trip or big events (unlike jameson and xander who would literally post their whole life stories)

~ because she didn't come from money she would take trips to walmart or target or smth in a hoodie because she feels weird having other people do the shopping for me (beyonce fanatics get it lol)

~ she used to watch gilmore girls with her mom (her and xander watch it together now)

~ she wants to wait a little to have kids but her and jameson talk about it at night all the time (she has a locked note in her phone of baby name ideas)

~ she tries to responds her fan mail (i could see her thinking that she was required to or something because shes a sweetheart)

~ at some point she had red highlights

~ she hates the feeling of makeup

~ but when she does wear it, she uses rare beauty or florence by mills (IT FEELS RIGHT OKAY?)

~ her and lyra get along (PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE-)

~ she steals jameson’s hoodies

i hope these were up to your standards! @silly-little-gooses came through with the glasses headcannon had to give creds

-zoey ☆

#avery kylie grambs #avery grambs #the inheritance games #jennifer lynn barnes #the hawthorne legacy #jameson hawthorne #the brothers hawthorne #averyjameson #the grandest game #lyra kane #phone girl #grayson hawthorne

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spiderrrling · 2 years

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My Dearest Eddie Munson (With Love, Eddie Munson p.2) Eddie Munson x F!Reader

Summary - It's been three weeks since Eddie deposited a letter in the mail detailing all his emotions, when a very familiar run down car pulls up in front of his trailer

Pairing - Eddie Munson x F!Reader

Word Count - 3.4k

Warnings - Me being sappy for three thousand words

A/N - Was not expecting to do a second part, but it kinda just flowed when I started writing it so I hope you guys enjoy!! Make sure you read the first part to this first!! Not beta read

Part 1 - With Love, Eddie Munson | Taglist

Eddie's stomach had been a pit of anxiety ever since he posted that letter. That stupid letter that he wrote one night when all the emotions just became too much.

That letter he had contemplated posting for weeks because let's be honest, it was an insane thing to do. But he posted it anyway. He could lie and pretend he didn't know why he posted it.

But he knew why, some part of him wanted her to know. Needed her to know. Thought she deserved to know how he felt.

The thought of that letter slowly making its way to her by mail racked his brain for weeks.

Did it get lost in the mail? Would she even bother to open it? If she opened it, did she read it? Did she hate him now? Had she already found someone new? Is that why she had avoided him over Christmas?

That last thought was the worst, because it was the one he was the most terrified of being true. He was terrified she had managed to get out of Hawkins and decided to forget everything in this dull little town.

Including him.

A million thoughts raced through his mind every single day and he struggled on focusing on anything but that stupid letter and the situation he had gotten himself into.

But ever since dropping that tiny letter containing all his big complicated feelings into the post box, he felt lighter. He had been able to admit something that he had kept to himself for so long.

Now all that was left was just to wait. And to hope.

Hope wasn't something Eddie was particularly good at, or patience for that matter. He also wasn't used to the post system and had no clue when that letter would arrive at her doorstep.

After three days had passed Eddie found the red shoebox he had hidden beneath his bed with all the pictures of her and songs he had written to her but never sung.

But he couldn't bring himself to open it and look through the papers inside of it. Instead he shoved it back into its usual hiding spot, left to gather dust once more.

A week passed, and still nothing. He found himself waking up early just to check the mailbox, and rushing home after school. Each time hopeful and each time left with this gnawing feeling that he couldn't shake for hours afterwards.

Then another week passed and by this point Eddie was ready to lose his mind. His day to day life had become a blurr, filled with worried thoughts and anxiety clouding everything else.

And he couldn't find the motivation to care about anything in his life anymore. Music never flowed the way he wanted it to, campaigns never panned out just right. Eddie simply became numb to all of it.

Eddie kicked himself mentally, a letter? He had written her a letter? He couldn't be bothered to have picked up the phone and called her? Or if he loved her as much as he claimed, why hadn't he bothered to drive the four hours that separated them.

It was Wednesday evening, three weeks to the day he had posted the letter. Rain was hammering against the roof of the trailer he shared with his uncle.

The season had turned from winter into spring. All the snow was gone from the ground and the usual carpet of spring flowers that decorated Hawkins had just started to return.

Eddie was splayed out on his bed, music playing quietly in the background as he stared at the book in front of him. His eyes wandered the lines upon lines of words, simply glancing over them not being bothered to take any of it in.

Each sentence he read immediately disappeared from his mind when he moved onto the next one. His fingers ran over the old yellowed pages, the spine was cracked, a sign it had been read many times over.

She had been the one to give him this book, years ago. She claimed he would love it, and he did. But he could never give her the satisfaction of telling her that she had found him his favourite book.

The thought stung in his chest. He should have told her. There were so many things he should have told her.

The rain and wind outside was still raging on, loud enough that he didn't hear the car pulling up on the gravel road outside. And he didn't hear the knocking against the trailer door, the sound completely drowned out by the rain.

But he heard her voice.

"Eddie?" Her voice called out and he immediately picked up on it. Leaping to his feet and tearing the door up. Half expecting it to have been a trick his mind had played on him.

But no, she was there. She was a mess, she looked like she had been crying. Wearing a pair of pyjama pants and a college branded T-shirt. Her hair was everywhere, chaotic and knotted. But she was just as beautiful as he remembered her. And she was there.

She was just there, standing there in the small living room of his trailer. Clothes and hair wet from the rain outside. A part of him didn't believe she was actually there. He was convinced he had fallen asleep reading and this was all just a dream.

Eddie could spot her tiny car parked along the side of the road.

For a second they simply both stood there looking at each other. Face to face for the first time in what felt like an eternity. Neither of them not sure what to do next.

The moment felt so delicate and fleeting that with one mistake, just the tiniest misshap. It would all go away and they would be left alone once more.

Eddie's eyes met hers and refused to let go, they were tinted slightly red and puffy, but they were still the same eyes he had looked into on so many different occasions. But never an occasion like this.

"I got your letter." She finally said and it snapped them both out of their trance. The pieces of paper he had written her all those weeks ago were now held firmly in her grip, slightly warped from the rain.

"You got my letter." Eddie echoed quietly, nodding slowly as he tried to all process the thoughts racing through his mind. "Do- do you want to come in?" He realised she was still standing in the doorway

"You wrote me a letter." Eddie couldn't tell what her tone was, she sounded touched but also like she could start crying any second. "And I shouldn't have- I'm sorry."

"And it's clear you've moved on. I shouldn't have sent it." It was at that moment, that Eddie Munson's heart broke for the very first time. "I'm sorry."

She could hear his voice starting to crack, the slight quiver in it as his eyes started to water ever so slightly. She had only seen him cry twice before.

Each time he did she felt something shatter inside of her. And she was standing there realising that for the very first time she was the reason he was crying.

"I never should have even written that stupid letter in the first place, and I don't know why I sent it, I shouldn't have and I know that and it's ok if you hate me now."

Eddie bit the inside of his cheek, realising he had been rambling on and wasn't sure what he was even saying anymore.

They both stood there, in the small living room of his trailer.

"You could have just called." She finally said, breaking the silence between them. Tears were pressing against the back of her eyes as she spoke. "Would have saved the money on stamps."

She didn't know why she was crying, the emotions spilled over and she couldn't contain them anymore. She had been driving for the past four hours, thoughts racing through her mind the whole way there.

She felt Eddie's arms wrap around her, pushing her up against his chest as she cried. And he simply held her like that while they both cried. The smell of his shirt, his coconut shampoo, the feel of his arms around her.

It was all such a familiar comfort she had forgotten. In the moment it only made her cry harder.

When he finally pulled away just enough to look at her both of their cheeks were tear stained, but neither of them bothered to dry their tears.

At some point one of Eddie's hands had found its way into her hair and his shirt was stained with her tears, but he didn't care.

"Why are you crying?" She croaked out, her voice was raspy from crying. "I don't know." He laughed as he looked at her. "Why are you crying?"

"I don't know." Their eyes met for a brief moment before they both burst out laughing, standing there wrapped in each other's arms. Eyes stained red from their shared tears.

"Did you drive here just to see me?" Eddie asked the question that had been gnawing at the back of his mind. Given their current state he could probably guess the answer, but he wanted to hear it from her lips.

"Yeah..." Her voice was soft, hushed as she spoke. "How could I not?"

"You know you know you could have just called." Eddie repeated her words from earlier. "Would have saved you money on gas."

"I don't care." She whispered and rested her head against his shoulder again. "I had to see you." The words made Eddie's heart leap in his chest.

"I got your letter and I just-" Her voice started breaking again and tears welled up in her eyes. "Shhh it's ok, you don't have to say anything."

"It was all a blur, and then I was in my car driving and I just couldn't make myself turn around." Eddie's hand was running over her hair, gently trying to soothe her, which was difficult given he still had tears in his eyes. "And then I was here."

Eddie didn't respond, and he didn't need to. At that moment she simply needed for him to hold her. She was scared if he didn't she would fall apart.

"I wrote you a letter." She mumbled directly into his shoulder. "What was that?" Eddie's eyes had slid shut and he was just enjoying the feeling of her in his arms.

"I wrote you a letter." She repeated and looked up at him from where she was standing. "After I read yours-" She trailed off as his eyes met hers again. “You wrote me a letter?”

“Can I read it to you?” Hre voice was so quiet Eddie could barely make out what she was saying. It was almost as if she was terrified he was going to say no, even after everything he had revealed to her. “Yeah, yeah of course you can.” Eddie guided them both over to the small run down couch that stood pushed up against the wall. He draped one of the stray blankets over her shoulders and finally noticed that accompanying his own letter were pieces of paper decorated with her handwriting.

Eddie took the seat opposite to her, immediately overcome by old familiar habits he laid down, his head in her lap like he had so many times before. And his eyes slid shut as she started reading the letter.

My dearest Eddie Munson

You're right, I wasn't expecting to receive a letter from you after all this time

I remember that spot and I miss spending my days out there with you. And you're right again, it did feel so distant to Hawkins we might as well have been anywhere in the world.

But I don't remember the exact first time you brought me out there. However I do remember the time we built a bonfire and grilled hot dogs, we ended up falling asleep in the back of your car.

It was after that we started keeping a couple of blankets and pillows back there because our backs were aching for days afterwards.

It's good to know you miss my DJing in the car, I believe I lived up to my shotgun role of being soundtrack master. Out here you can't see the stars, at least not as clearly as back home.

Light pollution makes it difficult to accurately see them. I miss the Hawkins night sky. I do find myself wondering now and then if we might be looking at the same constellations and if you remember anything I told you that night.

Now that night I do remember, you were so bad at spotting the stars, it's almost like you wanted me to hold your hand to show you. I suppose you did, considering the rest of your letter.

Not that I minded, I wanted to hold your hand. And you were sitting so close I couldn't help but think that if I just leaned in a couple of inches I would kiss you. I still wonder what it would be like to kiss you from time to time. I guess you'd taste like cigarettes.

It's good to know Hellfire still exists without me. I tried joining a new group here, but it's not right without you doing all the voices. I really miss all the voices you used to do.

If I focus really hard I can still hear your voice. I can imagine you sitting next to me reading me your letter.

Put those freshies through hell, they deserve a proper induction into Hellfire.

I hope you know I regret not reaching out, only leaving you with my new address and nothing else. My entire life was in that car that day, except for you. I should have made room for you in there.

Life here is so different to Hawkins, it's bright and busy and loud. It's the polar opposite to it, yet I still feel that pang of bittersweetness when I think back to Hawkins. I can't pretend some part of me doesn't miss it.

Because I do. I miss that stupid daft little town we both grew up in. I miss the stillness of life back home. But I also miss the person who always kept disturbing tha peace with whatever new adventure he had concocted in his mind.

After I moved, there was something that wasn't just right.

I guess for you it was obvious I wasn't there anymore. There was a me-shaped hole left in Hawkins. Whereas I was in a new city, a new place I had never explored before. There was never a carved out space for you and I. I had no clue about anything out here, and I missed the stability I had.

And I suppose you were the one that created that, I just didn't realise it.

I tried to fill my new life with adventures and hobbies, I poured myself into my studies and classes. But it didn't matter. There was still that pit in my stomach where it felt as if something was just wrong.

I miss it, I miss everything. I miss our theatre rehearsals together, I miss our Friday night Hellfire sessions, I miss sitting in a booth at Joanes until the early hours of the morning because it's the only place open late enough.

But more than that, I miss the person I did all of that with. You say you wish I missed you the way you miss me. But what you don't realise is that I don't miss you, I need you. I need to have you in my life again.

And I was an asshole over Christmas. You hadn't contacted me. I was too scared that you would resent me for leaving Hawkins, for leaving you stuck alone in this little town without me.

I couldn't stand the thought that you hated me, so I tried avoiding it. I tried avoiding you.

I packed away the pictures of us I had hanging in my dorm room. Shoved them into the back of my closet. Because maybe if I forgot you existed, then maybe this feeling would go away.

I went to parties, I got drunk, and I kissed strangers in fleeting moments soon to be forgotten. I even dated someone.

You're not the only one who didn't write. It's not like I didn't have your address. I still have it memorised, you know.

And of course I remember. I remember almost every single day we spent together. Every class, every inside joke we used to share, our drives to and from school. How am I supposed to forget someone who will forever have a piece of my heart? That isn’t something you can just do.

I loved cutting your hair, it gave me an excuse to look at you for a couple of hours. To touch and play with your hair. Your hair always smells like coconut, I can't smell coconut anymore without thinking about you.

Or the smell of cigarettes. Shared cigarettes as we sat on the porch during late spring evenings, passing it back and forth as we simply just enjoyed each other's company.

You know, I really wished you would have asked me to prom. I think you would have looked good in a suit. And we would have spent the night dancing to cheesy songs in a badly decorated crowded gym. And it would be the best night ever, because I would be there with you.

Hawkins is my hometown, where my family lives, in my childhood house. But you Eddie Munson, you're home. My home. Wherever you are, that is where home is, that is where I belong.

I’m sorry about the tear stained paper, your words seem to have affected me more than I realised. And I know I'm rambling, but in all fairness you started it.

I don't think you know how long I've waited to hear you say those words. And I suppose I still haven't heard them, but I read them in your voice.

Though I wish you would say them to me in person, I think hearing them from your lips would be totally different. Preferably sitting close to me in the back of your van or wherever. Just sitting close enough that maybe this time I’ll be brave enough to lean in and kiss you.

So my dearest Eddie Munson, my partner in crime, my best friend. Where do we stand now? Where do we go from here? How can I-

She stopped reading and looked over at him. His eyes were slid shut, completely focused on taking in the words she was reading him. Desperate to hang onto everything she said.

"Why'd you stop?" Eddie moved to sit up across from her, his hand resting on her knee. Desperate to be touching her in any way. He still wasn't convinced that this wasn't all a dream.

"That's when I got in the car." She whispered back to him. "I realised I had to see you, so I just stopped writing." She was sitting close enough that he could feel her breath on his skin, it sent a chill down his spine.

"So you can read in my voice?" Eddie laughed quietly and she nodded slowly in response. "I still want to hear you say it though."

"I love you." And just like that he had said it, sitting in the quiet little living room of his trailer, on the run down couch, Eddie Munson finally proclaimed his love for her. To her. And she finally got to do what she had been regretting not doing for so long, she leaned in and closed the small space between them and she kissed him.

Eddie felt as if the air got knocked out of his lungs as she did. Her lips captured him and drew him in further. She could feel the slight stubble of his chin against her skin as he returned the kiss. Desperate for each other they kissed until they both had to pull away and gasp for air.

"Fuck how I wish you would have kissed me that night." Eddie whispered to her, his voice sounded breathless and she could see his lips were a little bit swollen.

"I was scared you wouldn't return it." she admitted quietly, her hand easily finding his under the mess of the blankets and interlocking their fingers together.

“I would have been stupid not to.”

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Requested for part 2 - @intergalacticaquarium

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