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#it probably wasn’t even that bad if you don’t actually remember it so pull it together.
badolmen · 1 month
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So funny how trauma will just kick you in the fucking teeth with the most random triggers.
#ra speaks#personal#watched the most recent quintin reviews vid which like yeah I went in with expectations of the content#and it’s not like I actively avoid stuff that depicts/discusses abuse I’ve been going to therapy long enough to know my most sensitive#triggers and stuff. but…idk something abt when he got to the drake bell section just set me off something fierce.#I’m all nerves and stress and self loathing/misplaced guilt from my own past bullshit#like brain can we please cool it we’ve been over this for years why you freaking the fuck out now? (I mean. logically. I know why#and how trauma works and that I’m just having emotional flashbacks but still. ugh.)#brain please be real niceys to me I have a meeting in an hour we cannot be having a panic attack.#you’re safe you’re good it wasn’t your fault etc etc can we please go back to being an adult more than a decade past all that? please???#survived my meeting so I’m gonna vent abt this a bit more bc. let’s be real.#I don’t rememember a solid 3 years of my adolescence and it fucks w me sometimes.#I remember things before 4th grade. I remember 4th grade. then bam I’m in 8th going to high school. and like#I know logistically what happened. I know emotionally I hated/was so fucking scared of [redacted] until I finally left that fucking school.#it’s just. frustrating bc if I remembered maybe I’d feel more justified letting myself get upset abt it. but I don’t so suck it up buttercup#it probably wasn’t even that bad if you don’t actually remember it so pull it together.#hell for all you know it had nothing to do with [redacted] and you were just on bad meds/depressed and forgot three solid years of your life#after meeting [redacted] <- I am not convincing myself unfortunately.
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unsolved-duvall · 1 year
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𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐆𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐀 𝐁𝐚𝐝 𝐍𝐚𝐦𝐞 - 𝐞.𝐦. (𝟏𝟖+)
older rockstar!eddie x fem!reader
part one | part two
summary eddie munson was a world famous rockstar. and, apparently, an asshole. but you weren't one to believe rumours, so when eddie asks to meet you, who are you to say no? (11.4k)
warnings age gap, reader is 22 and eddie is 40 (if this makes you uncomfortable please do not read! <3) smut, lots of smut. an overuse of nicknames (doll, angel, sweetheart, etc.), dom!eddie, choking, penetrative sex, oral sex f!receiving, fingering, slight overstimulation, reader cries once during sex but for good reasons! promise. minors shoo, i'll chase you away with a stick. don't make me do it. (if i've missed anything please let me know!)
This was a bad idea. You knew that. 
You should go home.
But he was right there. And he was so pretty. 
He had asked for you. He had picked you out of the crowd. And now you were in his hotel room. 
You were so fucked. 
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You (and everyone who knew Eddie) knew that he did this all the time, it was practically an after-show ritual for him. Only on a very rare occasion did he go back to his hotel room by himself, or with the same person. It was always someone new, someone he had seen at the show, someone who caught his eye. And tonight that were you. 
Okay, if you were going to be completely honest here, this might have been what you wanted all along. But you never thought it would actually happen, you weren’t that delusional. But you had spent a little longer on your appearance tonight, and you had worn that outfit that showed off all your best assets and made you feel really fucking hot. 
And Eddie really needed to remember to thank you for that. Because once he saw you at the front of the crowd he couldn’t keep his eyes off you. In between songs he had walked over to the side of the stage, bending down so he could speak into the security guard's ear, and had told him the same thing he told him every night, accompanied with a point in your general direction. 
So when the show was coming to an end, security walked over to you and said “When the show ends hang around okay? Eddie wants to see you.” 
Oh. 
Oh. 
You just nodded and blurted out something like ‘Oh yeah, okay, yeah, I can do that, thank you-” honestly you don’t even remember what you said, because your heart was racing as you realised what was happening. 
The security guard just rolled his eyes and strolled back to where he was originally standing. You figured he was probably tired of the reaction he got every time he had to tell Eddie’s latest crush to hang around after the show.
He did it every night, and honestly, he felt bad for every single one of them. It was the same each time: he would tell them, they would freak out, they would spend the night with Eddie, and the next day he would have to awkwardly escort them out of the hotel and tell them not to “take it personally doll, this is just what he does” Because Eddie wouldn’t even wake up early enough the next morning to say goodbye. 
He was a dick. But people fucking loved it and loved him. 
.
.
.
“You okay doll?” That recognisable voice pulled you out of your daydream and back to reality, although right now you weren’t entirely sure there was much of a difference between your daydreams and what was really happening. 
Standing in Eddie Munson’s dressing room wasn’t exactly something you thought you would ever be doing. 
After the show ended you stayed where you were, anxiously moving back and forth on your feet and looking around to see what exactly you were supposed to do next. Sure you had been told to ‘hang around’ but what did that mean? Were you supposed to stay where you were, walk over to a security guard and tell them Eddie had asked you to stick around? No, bad idea. They’d think you were a crazy stalker and would most likely escort you out of the venue. 
You couldn't see the man who had come over to speak to you. Your eyes continued to scan the room, looking for anyone who seemed to be signalling for you to come over; and just as you were about to admit defeat and leave, that same man caught your eye and nodded his head to the side. 
You hoped that was meant for you, or you were about to severely embarrass yourself. 
But, everyone else still there seemed to be talking amongst themselves, paying no attention to the man who now stood, looking rather impatient, next to the stage. Gathering all the courage you could muster (which truthfully was not a lot but fuck it) you crossed your arms over your chest and walked over to him. 
“Can you get over the barrier or do you need my help?” 
“Wha- I’m sorry?” you questioned him with perhaps a little too much confusion in your voice, and based on the look on his face, you already knew he didn’t like you very much. Or maybe he was like this with everyone. He worked for Eddie Munson after all and based on everything you knew about him, you guessed that job probably took a toll on a person. He was notorious for being difficult to work with. He’s lucky he was so fucking hot. 
“Are you serious… Jesus Christ okay- can you get over the barrier or do you need me to lift you over?” He started walking over to you, making a rather fair assumption that you were about to ask for some help. 
“Oh um yeah, could you…” He was already lifting you over before you could finish your request ‘Thank you, sorry… I just… I’m not normally this nervous” awkwardly laughing as you placed your feet on the ground and adjusted your clothes. 
“Yeah, you and everyone else who does this each night” He didn’t say it very loudly, probably not intending for you to actually hear him, but you did. It didn’t upset you, you knew what Eddie was like. But you were slightly embarrassed that his security was seemingly very aware of how your night was about to play out. 
He didn’t speak much. Eddie’s security. You had tried to make polite conversation by asking his name, but he was too busy leading you to Eddie’s dressing room. It was cold backstage, and busy. Lots of people moving equipment and talking about the next show, you were pretty sure they worked for the Band. You noticed a few other girls standing around, probably waiting for the other members of the band. You knew that the others didn’t have as much of a reputation as Eddie, but you would have to be pretty naive to assume they weren’t doing almost the same thing. They were just more subtle about it. 
“He’s in there” He stopped so abruptly that you were lucky you didn’t walk straight into the back of him. You looked up and saw that the door was closed, but his security was making no move to knock or open it for you. You thanked him and he just gave you a nod and walked away. Okay. Guess you’re knocking on the door yourself. Because that’s not terrifying. 
But you were already here, and it would be far more awkward to try and find your way back so you took a deep breath and knocked three times on the door. 
“Yeah come in” Eddie’s voice sounded from behind the door. 
Oh shit, he’s really in there, you thought to yourself. 
With one last shaky breath and shaking your hair out you grabbed the cold door handle and pushed the door open, peering around the door frame before you walked in. You could see Eddie, he was standing next to a high-up table and was clearly busy with something. But you couldn’t see anyone else, which was a small relief. 
Pushing the door completely open you stepped into the room. You took your hand off the door, and you were not expecting it to shut as quickly or loudly as it did. The loud bang of the door caused Eddie to turn around slightly too fast to be casual, and his eyes darted straight behind you to the door and then instantly back to your face, looking straight at you. But he quickly regained his composure and let his eyes rake up and down you. Yeah, so Eddie Munson did not do subtle. 
You were pretty sure Eddie just said something to you but you were too busy looking at him. No not looking, staring. Apparently, you didn’t do subtle either. 
You knew Eddie was pretty. But in person, this closeup? It was ridiculous. He was annoyingly hot. His curly hair fell around his face, bangs resting just above his eyebrows, framing his face perfectly. Your eyes scanned down to his lips, parted slightly, and you couldn’t help but think about what they would feel like on your neck. But his eyes were what grabbed your attention the most, they were almost hypnotising and you definitely stared at them for an uncomfortable amount of time. 
“You okay doll?” Eddie repeated his earlier question, not bothering to bite back the smirk that painted his face. 
“Yeah, I’m… I’m good!” You did not mean for that to come out as enthusiastically as it did. “I mean um, I’m good thanks, are you? Okay?” If you didn’t get your shit together and start acting less like a fangirl in the next two seconds you were just going to escort yourself out. 
Eddie laughed under his breath and leaned back against the wall behind him “Well aren’t you polite” You weren’t entirely sure what to say to that, so you just didn’t say anything. Instead choosing to remain standing by the door.  
Eddie lifted his hand that was holding an unlit cigarette and placed it between his lips. And quickly removing it again, for some reason. 
Oh god, now you were staring at his lips. And his hands. He had really pretty hands, with lots of rings on his fingers. Did he leave the rings on when he-
“Is staring a normal thing for you or am I just that attractive, sweetheart?” 
Fuck. Rockstars were so damn cocky. 
“That’s funny” You responded, you had no idea where that confidence suddenly came from, but something about the way he looked at you made you feel safe. “You know what?” You said as you walked over to the lone bar stool next to the table, sitting down and putting your hands under your thighs (you didn’t feel the need to question why there was only one chair in his dressing room). 
“You’re already flirting with me and you don’t even know how old I am, what if I’m like… I don't know, seventeen?” You held back a smile as you saw Eddie tense up and then quickly relax again. 
“Very clever, but not clever enough doll.” Jesus you wished he’d stop with the nicknames, it really wasn’t helping your whole ‘act casual’ plan. Eddie fiddled with the cigarette in between his fingers as he carried on speaking,  “this venue doesn’t let anyone in under the age of twenty-one. So, unless you were using a fake ID I figured it was safe to assume you’re not, in fact, seventeen.” 
You looked down at your feet that were dangling just above the floor, you weren’t using a fake ID. But you had in the past, he didn’t need to know that though. Although you couldn’t imagine he was one to judge someone for doing something illegal. 
“Okay fine, so I’m not seventeen. You still don’t know how old I am though. You don’t even know my name, Eddie” You shot back, trying to sound serious, but the humour underneath your statement broke through. You also weren’t sure if you were on a first-name basis with him, but what else were you supposed to call him?
Eddie never broke eye contact with you the whole time you were speaking, but you couldn’t quite read what he was thinking. 
“You wanna tell me your name then, sweetheart? Or am I supposed to guess that and your age? You wanna make me work for it huh?” Eddie put the cigarette down as he pushed himself off the wall and rested his forearms on the table, getting just that little bit closer to you. 
“Normally yeah, I’d make a guy work for my name, but I suppose you’re special, right?” You said quietly, your confidence quickly slipping away the longer he looked at you. 
“You’re gonna give me an ego, doll. No one’s ever called me special before, especially someone as pretty as you.” Eddie was a flirt, you knew that. He probably told every girl he has never seen someone as ‘pretty as they were’. But, still, it felt nice. You certainly didn’t believe that no one had ever called him special before. He was Eddie fucking Munson, for crying out loud. 
“I’m Y/N.” You told him, purposefully not mentioning your age. You were over twenty-one but Eddie was… older. 
He was almost double your age, actually. 
“Pretty name. Matches the face.” Eddie flirted. He was insatiable already. “And you’re… how old exactly.” Eddie clearly noticed the look of worry that flashed because he quickly added “I know, I know. You should never ask a lady her age, and all that shit. But uh, help me out here” 
“Okay um, I’m twenty-two.” Eddie didn’t react at all like he was waiting for you to say something else, but when you didn’t he just said “So that would make me old enough to be your dad, right?” he laughed. 
“Whoa, well I wouldn’t say that. You’re forty. My dad’s in his fifties so…” Why did you just bring up your dad, to the man you were pretty sure you were about to sleep with? Smooth. 
Eddie walked around so he was standing in front of you, resting a hand on your knee and using the other to push your hair off your face. “So you’re not uncomfortable, at all? Look, baby, I’m older, you’re still young, I wouldn’t want this to be some power-dynamic situation where you feel pressured, or fuckin’ whatever” 
Shit. He wasn’t a complete asshole. At least not right now, he seemed genuinely concerned about you feeling safe. But with his hand on your knee, you weren’t sure how the fuck he expected you to focus. 
“‘M not uncomfortable. I wouldn’t have come back here if I was” Eddie tilted his head slightly, looking for more confirmation. “I promise. ‘M not a child, Eddie” 
“No, you’re definitely not… a child” You could tell he was trying really hard to keep his eyes on yours and not look other places right now. His hand that moved your hair came to rest on your cheek. 
This close to him you could see the stubble on his face, and the freckles that painted his nose and under his eyes. His eyes were even more dangerous this close-up as well. You were pretty sure he would do anything he asked you to right now, and you’d only been with him five minutes. 
Was he about to kiss you? 
You were pretty sure he was about to kiss you. 
You hadn’t even realised it but you had let your legs fall apart so he was now standing as close as he possibly could be, your legs dangling around his. He just kept looking at you, rubbing his thumb on your cheek, whilst his eyes moved back and forth from yours to your lips. 
And just as you were about to lean forwards, your lips parting, 
He walked away. 
What the fuck? 
“You smoke?” 
“Wha- I’m sorry?” 
Eddie had sauntered over to another table in the corner, it was covered in empty food containers, drinks, cigarettes and god knows what else. He grabbed the leather jacket that was thrown haphazardly across the edge of the table and threw it on, he still didn’t say anything as he walked back over to where you were sitting and picked up the cigarette he put down earlier, placing it behind his ear. You hated it, but there was something about him that made it impossible to not watch him. And he knew it, too. 
“I said do you smoke?” 
“No, s’bad for you” 
“Fuck you’re not about to start lecturing me are you?” The immediate exhaustion in his voice was evident, and you wondered how many times a day he was told to stop smoking. “‘Cause I like you so far, don’t turn into an asshole now” 
“No f’course not I just-  you asked if I smoked, that’s all” 
“Okay, good. Good that you aren’t about to fuckin’ lecture me and force me to tell you to fuck off,” Charming, as always. “and good that you don’t smoke. You’re too pretty for that shit.” 
Only Eddie Munson could be an asshole and compliment you in the same sentence. 
Eddie turned on his heel and headed for the door, as he opened it he turned around, clearly expecting to see you standing right behind him, but you hadn’t even moved from where you were sitting. “You comin'? Or are you just gonna sit there looking lost all night?” 
You stood up without saying anything and expected him to just start walking again, instead he just shut the door again, leaning against it and drawled out “you know why I asked for you to hang around right?” 
“Yeah, I’ve got a pretty good idea.” You weren’t entirely sure what his deal was. He was both exactly what people said he was but also not like that. He seemed… you weren’t sure. It wasn’t that he was unsure of himself, it definitely wasn’t that. But if you didn’t know he did this every damn night, you’d say he was trying to hold back his nerves. 
Or maybe he just did this so much that it was starting to bore him. 
“Okay. so?” He wasn’t even looking at you as he said it, instead choosing to stare at the ceiling. 
“I don’t know what you’re asking me here, Eddie.” You whispered. 
Eddie lowered his gaze to your eyes and stood up straight, no longer leaning against the door. “Can I fuck you, sweetheart? Do you want that?” 
Oh fuck. 
You nodded, certain that if you tried to articulate yourself you would find that words escaped you. 
“Use your words for me, come on doll, need to hear you say it.” Eddie moved towards you a bit and picked up the pendant on the end of your necklace, flipping it over in his fingers as he waited for your answer, never once breaking eye contact.
“Yeah I- I want that. Want you to fuck me.” You blurted out. 
A smile broke out on Eddie’s face as he dropped your necklace and turned around, opening the door and walking out “Come on then.” 
You didn’t figure you were in a position to ask any questions, so you just followed him. Wherever he was going, he was going to fuck you once you got there, so you were happy either way. 
What you didn’t know was that you had utterly confused Eddie. 
You see, normally when Eddie invited someone backstage, it took them about two minutes before they were trying to jump his bones, kissing his neck and telling him how hot he was. It was easy like that, but you? You didn’t even try and touch him, which was… respectful. He wasn’t used to that. Not that he didn’t want you to touch him, he did. He had just never had to make the first move before, or straight up ask someone if they wanted him to fuck them. 
But you did want him. He could tell. The way you couldn’t stop looking at him, even when he wasn’t even doing anything. The way your thighs rubbed together when he called you ‘doll’ or ‘sweetheart’. Or the way your breath hitched when he asked you if you wanted him to fuck you. 
You were also really fucking pretty. He felt his heart race when you first walked into his dressing room. Sure, he had seen you in the audience and thought you were cute, but it was different when you were standing before him. But of course, he pushed all those thoughts away, You were a hookup, that’s all. That’s all he wanted. Maybe out of spite to himself, but he would never let anyone be more than that. And you weren’t going to be any different. 
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.
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The drive to the hotel was pretty quick. Fifteen minutes at most. You had followed Eddie to a car that was waiting just outside one of the back entrances and he had even gone as far as to open the door for you. What a gentleman, maybe? You still could not figure him out. 
Once Eddie was in the car, the driver set off. Neither of you said a word to the other. Instead, you sat in oddly comfortable silence. Letting the city lights and moonlight leak into the car as you were driven through the bustling metropolis. 
Occasionally you’d look over at Eddie, and each time you did would find he was already looking at you. The first couple of times you looked away again, staring back out of the window at the starry night sky, looking at the constellations and trying to figure out what the fuck was happening. You were sitting in the back of a car with Eddie Munson. And he was taking you back to his hotel. 
The third time you looked over at Eddie he was moving over to sit right next to you. You shifted slightly so you could look at him without having to twist your neck as far. “Hey” you murmured. 
“You know normally by now, you would be sitting on my lap, whilst I feel you up under your clothes.” 
“Oh, how romantic” You chirped back. 
“What can I say, I’m a modern-day Romeo.” 
“Can I say something?” You asked him, breaking eye contact, choosing to look down at your legs instead. 
“Fucking hell- I- yeah sure.” His voice was laced with annoyance “You know they normally don’t talk this much either.” Eddie shot back at you. 
“Okay well I was gonna say, you’re not as much of an asshole as people make you out to be. But then you kinda were an asshole, so, never mind.” 
You looked back up at Eddie to see a grin on his face. “What?” You barked out. 
Eddie held his hands up in mock surrender and only held back a laugh at your annoyance. “You love it, sweetheart. Or else you wouldn’t have agreed to meet me, let alone get in the car with me. And come back to my damn hotel room.” His voice dipped much lower than you had heard it all night, it was all smug and had an air of ‘I know I’m hot as fuck and so do you’ about it. 
You swallowed and tried to look back out the window, anything to avoid looking right at Eddie. But he lifted his hand and turned your head back to him, once you were looking at him he lowered his hand from your cheek and let it rest on your jaw. 
“Now, Can I please kiss you?” 
Fucking finally. 
You barely had time to nod before his soft lips landed on your own. Barely had time to think before the kiss turned heated, Eddie leaning his head one way and you leaning yours the other so you could be as close as possible. 
Noses squished against each other and lips moulding together in perfect rhythm. It was like Eddie had lit a fire in you because you couldn’t get close enough to him. You lifted yourself up and swung your leg over Eddie’s lap, he quickly realised what you were doing and moved his hands to grab your hips, helping you settle on top of him, the whole time not once breaking the kiss. 
Your hands went straight to Eddie’s hair and he moved from your hips to your back, letting them feel every part of you, until they eventually went to your hair, too. He took your bottom lip between his teeth and pulled back slightly, causing you to let out the smallest whimper.
 He went straight back to making out with you, but you could feel his smirk against your mouth. As your lips moved together you started rocking your hips back and forth, slowly and experimentally. 
But it was enough to cause Eddie to let out a groan, which only encouraged you even more, doubling down on your efforts to kiss him, pressing your lips deeper and harder against his, and he only returned the same energy, pushing himself forward and pulling you closer to him, letting his tongue run over your bottom lip, begging for entry. 
You parted your lips instantly and he wasted no time letting his tongue meet yours. You tried to fight for some dominance in this situation but he quickly took control. His tongue in your mouth and one hand on the back of your neck, the other holding your hip to control your movements. 
It was hot. And you were really fucking needy. You had almost forgotten that some poor driver was sitting directly in front of you, behind the separator. Probably trying to get to the hotel as fast as possible. You didn’t blame him. 
You and Eddie were making out like if you didn’t you would die, and honestly, that was exactly what you felt like. Everywhere he touched you left you wanting more and more and more. His kiss ebbed and flowed through you, making you roll your hips against him even more. 
His lips on yours left you convinced that you had died and gone to heaven. His tongue exploring your mouth made you feel like your heart was going to beat out of your chest. He knew what he was doing. Of course, he did. 
Just as your hips grinding against him was getting erratic, the car stopped. And Eddie pulled away from you instantly. Both of you breathing heavily, you more than him, somehow. Did he have more oxygen in his body or something, what the fuck? You had both had your tongues down each other's throat, how did he seem slightly out of breath and you felt like you were fighting for air? Eddie patted his hands against your hips, signalling for you to get up and out of the car. 
The door opened and you stepped out as smoothly as you could, which wasn’t easy when you were just being felt up by a rockstar in the back of the car, but you gave it your best shot. The late spring air caressed your face and you felt yourself relax for the first time all night; moving away from the car as Eddie said something to the driver you stepped onto the lawn in front of the hotel and felt the dew-dropped grass crunch under your shoes. 
The hotel was big, fancy, you didn’t feel like you belonged there. You couldn’t even count how many stories high it was, the lit-up windows seemingly going for miles, hypnotising you as you stared up in awe. 
Truthfully you were more shocked that the band’s management still let them stay in places as lavish as this, they were renowned for being… destructive. You had heard countless stories of Eddie and his bandmates going back to a hotel drunk or high (most of the time it was both) and destroying their rooms, disturbing the other guests and probably other things they had most likely paid the media not to leak. 
Some said that Eddie and others had mellowed out recently, with Eddie turning forty. If you asked Eddie he would take offence to that, and say something precocious like he was “just getting started”. Whatever that meant. 
You were pulled out of your thoughts by a hand coming to rest on your lower back, and you knew it was Eddie without having to turn around. 
“Come on, I stay out here for too long we’ll be fuckin’ swarmed,” He told you. 
“You get a lot of people waiting for you at hotels?” You already knew the answer, you had seen the insanity for yourself on TV. Hundreds of fans crowded the hotel hoping for a glance at the band. 
“Yeah, somethin’ like that. They just want me to sign something so they can sell it. I don’t do that shit.” Eddie explained as his security hurried you both into the hotel. 
His security led you through the lobby and joined you in the elevator. Which you were pretty sure was the most awkward two minutes of your life. You felt like a little kid being dragged home by her parents and they were too annoyed with you to even hold a conversation. Eddie didn’t seem to mind it though, leaning to the side and resting against the elevator wall, closing his eyes in exasperation when his security murmured something along the lines of “I’ll knock on your door at 9 tomorrow.” Eddie didn’t bother to respond or even show that he had heard him. 
Soon the elevator stopped and his security stepped off. He turned around and gave you both a curt nod before letting out a sigh and walking off. 
The elevator doors had barely shut, and it hadn’t even started moving again before Eddie was on you. Pushing you back against the wall of the elevator, his hands on your waist, a small sigh left your lips at the speed and energy of it. He dipped his head to your neck and let his lips explore everywhere. Your hands flew up to his hair to keep him pressed against you and when he found your sweet spot you couldn’t stop the moan that slipped out, and you felt Eddie’s mouth turn up into a smirk against your neck. 
He was mouthing at your neck like he needed it to breathe, alternating between pressing kisses and sucking at your skin, letting his teeth graze your skin. Soothing the love-bitten skin by running his tongue over it once he was satisfied with his work. You already knew you would have to cover those with makeup for the next few days, or maybe you wouldn’t, letting everyone see Eddie’s mark on you, you hadn’t decided yet. 
You were so lost in the feeling of Eddie that you hadn’t heard the sighs and whimpers you were letting out, but Eddie couldn’t miss them if he tried, he thought you sounded angelic. 
“Fuck doll, barely even touched you and you’re making such pretty noises f’me” Eddie raised his head to look at you, his lips red and swollen. “Gonna let me see what other noises I can get you to make?” You let out a hum of agreement. 
Eddie grabbed your face with one ring-clad hand, forcing you to look at him, and not at his lips (in your defence, you hadn’t even realised you were staring at his lips). “I asked you a question sweetheart.” 
He leaned forward so his lips were grazing your ear as he spoke, “I said, are you gonna let me pull even more noises out of you? Answer me, come on pretty girl.” 
“Yeah, yeah. Please Eddie I-” The elevator doors opened just as Eddie was laughing at the neediness in your voice. 
Eddie’s eyes dipped down to your neck again and then back to yours, before grabbing your hand and dragging you behind him, walking at a considerable pace. He was just as desperate as you were, he was just much better at hiding it. 
Eddie opened the door to his room and you had about five seconds to see that you were standing in a hallway, leading off to the multiple rooms. You let your eyes wander around the enormous suite before Eddie was turning around and kissed you, lips smashing desperately against each other. It was the type of kiss that took all the air out of your lungs, your hands grabbing blindly at his jacket, clinging to him like he was your lifeline. 
You felt Eddie starting to lead you back and quickly your waist hit the small glass table that was next to the door. You reluctantly broke away from the kiss, turning your head to look down at the table that Eddie seemed to want you to sit on. 
“It’s glass,” You said simply. 
“Baby that table probably cost more than your rent. S’not gonna break.” Eddie let his hands wander underneath your top, drawing small shapes on your back whilst he waited for you to be where he wanted you. 
“Telling me it costs more than my rent is not calming my nerves here!” You exclaimed, 
“Would you get on the fucking table so I can eat you out” 
Well, when you put it like that. 
You placed your hands on either side of you on the table and Eddie lifted your waist to help you up. “Thank you” Eddie drew out the syllables as he spoke, and his voice was laced with sarcasm, you hit his shoulder. His lips turned up in a smile and he reconnected his lips to yours. The kiss was slower this time, but still desperate. Eddie stood between your legs and you were quick to wrap them around his waist, pulling him flush against you, letting him roll his hips against your centre and you moaned against his lips. He took the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, exploring you as you let him take control. 
Just as you were about to beg for more Eddie pulled away from your lips and dropped to his knees, placing your legs over his shoulders, dusting light kisses along your thighs. And it was only at that moment that your brain caught up with your body. Eddie Munson was between your thighs, and it felt so right. Your heart was racing and you felt goosebumps on your arms, but you felt so comfortable with him. 
Oh shit. Do not fall for him. 
This was a bad idea. You knew that. 
You should go home.
But he was right there. And he was so pretty. 
He had asked for you. He had picked you out of the crowd. And now you were in his hotel room. 
You were so fucked. 
“Hey, where’d you go?” Eddie ran his hand along your outer thigh, his other coming up to push his hair back off his face. 
“I- shit, sorry, I’m okay. Promise” You tried to assure him. You really were okay, this was just a lot. 
“We can stop. Or slow down. Jus’ tell me what you need me to do.” 
You needed him to go back to being an asshole and make it easier to leave in the morning. 
“Need you. Need you to touch me.” You breathed. Eddie bit back a smirk and gently pushed your skirt up around your hips, you felt your breathing speed up already, your legs spreading wider as his soft lips kissed lovebites onto your inside thigh, slowly moving closer to where you so desperately wanted him. He pulled back to admire the purple bruises he had sucked onto your skin, leaning forward again to press light kisses over them. “Eddie, please” your voice came out breathy and quiet, you barely even recognised it as your own. 
“What’s wrong sweetheart? You wanted me to touch you, yeah? S’what I’m doin” Eddie was teasing you and you knew it, your fingers gripping the side of the table so firmly that your knuckles were going white. 
“Need more.” Was all you could tell him, all of your focus being pulled to where his hands were running up and down your thighs again. 
“Tell me doll, you gotta tell me where you need me or I can’t help you baby” you could tell how much he was enjoying your reactions just from the tone of his voice, he was trying to be serious and controlling but you could hear the smile in his voice. 
You hummed out in protest and tried to move your hips closer to him, but as soon as he saw you trying to move his grip on your thighs got tighter, stopping you from moving. 
“You gotta use your words for me angel or I’m gonna get bored here” Eddie slipped into the dominant persona so naturally that you couldn’t help the pang of guilt that rang through your body at the reminder that he did this with lots of people, you weren’t the first and definitely weren’t going to be the last. And you hated how that thought made you feel. 
Not wanting Eddie to notice the way your face dropped for a split second you quickly pushed the thought away and felt the desperation build up again. 
“Need your mouth, please- just please Eddie” 
“Good girl” You felt heat rush to your cheeks at his words, Eddie noticed too, but he didn’t say anything. Not yet, anyway. 
“Can you lift your hips for me darlin? Need to get these pretty panties off you, yeah?” You instantly lifted yourself up as much as you could, as Eddie slipped his hands under and pulled your underwear down your legs, throwing them somewhere behind him once they were off. 
You could thank all the gods that Eddie didn’t tease you anymore. He pulled you to the edge of the table and your ankles crossed behind his back in an effort to keep him close to you, certain that if he didn’t touch you right there and then you were going to combust. 
Eddie ran a finger along your cunt, finally getting to feel how desperate you really were. “Shit sweetheart, you’re fucking soaked, huh?” You whimpered at his words, not trusting yourself enough with words. “Yeah? s’okay I’ve got you, gonna make you feel so good I promise” Eddie dipped his finger against your entrance, gathering your wetness before going straight for your clit, rubbing slow circles right over that sweet spot. Your hips bucked at the small movement and Eddie looked up at you, his brown eyes peeking out from behind his overgrown bangs. 
The amount of need he saw in your eyes was almost enough to make him pick you up and carry you to his bed there and then, but he was a firm believer in the more fucked out someone was before he had even fucked them, the better the sex. So, he fought every instinct in his body and dropped his eyes back to your cunt, finally attaching his mouth to you, making you mewl and whimper above him, immediately moving one of your hands to hold his head against your core, your fingers tangling into his curls. 
Eddie knew what he was doing, his tongue running along your slit and moving up to suck on your clit, shaking his head whenever he did, causing you to throw your head back, eyes shut so tightly it almost hurt. Every time he felt your thighs tighten around him, or heard your breathing speed up, he pulled off your clit and went back to running his tongue through your cunt, stopping you from getting to where you really needed to be, but still feeling fucking ridiculous. 
“Eddie- need your fingers, please” You begged him, you just needed to feel more of him. 
He pulled back and smiled up at you “Look at you baby, using your words to tell me what you need.” As he said it he gently ran one finger along your cunt, dipping it inside you slightly in an attempt to work you open, but you were so needy he really didn’t need to. 
His words made you clench around nothing and all you could do was mewl out longing pleases and eddies. Reciting his name like a mantra. 
He whispered out little shh shh shh’s as he made delicate work of slipping his middle finger inside you. Of course, you had touched yourself before, but Eddie touching you surpassed anything you had ever made yourself feel. Just one of his fingers was enough to stretch you out, but you still needed more. 
“More please- please” You couldn’t take your eyes off of Eddie, at how he couldn’t take his eyes off your cunt, where his finger was dipping in and out of you “I got you angel”. 
Eddie slipped another finger inside you, it felt uncomfortable for a second and your eyebrows scrunched together as you tried to adjust to his fingers inside you. But that dull ache was soon relieved when Eddie curled his two fingers up inside you, hitting that spot that you had never been able to reach, or anyone else you had slept with had been able to reach. He kept a steady rhythm, not pulling his fingers in and out anymore, instead, he just kept curling his fingers perfectly each time. It had you seeing stars and your breath caught in your throat as you tried to calm yourself down. 
“Yeah? That feel good, baby?” Eddie teased, lapping his tongue against your clit again, forcing you to let out the prettiest string of moans he had ever heard. “Fuck doll, anyone ever made you feel like this before, huh?” You were so fucked out already you just shook your head, trying to push his head back down, a silent plea for him to put his mouth back on you. 
“No? That’s a fucking crime sweetheart. None of the boys your age are doing it for you huh?” Little whimpers and moans let him know the answer to his question without you having to say anything. The man was a menace, holding a conversation with you whilst he had two fingers curled inside you. 
Oh, and you finally had an answer to your earlier question. He did keep his rings on whilst he fingered someone. Which you were ever so grateful for. It was the hottest thing you had ever seen or felt. The metal of his rings rubbing against you had your eyes rolling back into your head. 
“Just needed someone who knew what they were doing to touch you, right?” Eddie was definitely a talker. Not that you were complaining, especially since you could barely string two words together right now. 
He continued lapping at your clit whilst his fingers worked inside you, your moans getting louder by the minute. If you weren’t so busy with Eddie’s head between your legs you might be worried about getting a noise complaint from the other poor guests who could probably hear you. 
You felt that coil in your stomach start to tighten and you let your hand that was resting on Eddie’s head pull oh his hair, eliciting a groan from him, his eyes searching for yours and when he found them screwed closed he used his free hand to grab one of yours and hold it, letting you know he knew you were close. 
“Can you let go for me angel, hm? Come on, I got you” 
That was all it took for the coil to snap, your whole body felt like it was burning, in the best way. Your grip on Eddie’s hand got tighter as he worked you through it, his fingers slowing down but not stopping, his thumb rubbing circles over your clit. All you could do was moan and whimper above him, letting out a stream of oh gods and don’t stop. Eddie was saying something to you, you could hear his muffled voice but your ears were ringing and everything was too much but you never wanted it to stop. 
Until suddenly it all became too much, your legs instinctively trying to close, hand coming down to move Eddie’s away from you. He picked up on your change in demeanour instantly and slowly took his fingers out of you, pressing small kisses to your knee as he let you calm down. 
“Fuck, Eddie-” Was all you could say when you’re senses came back to you. 
You realised you were still holding Eddie’s hand, but you didn’t make any moves to let go. Neither did he. 
“Yeah? Not bad for an old man, huh?” Eddie chirped. 
“Fuck off, you’re forty. That’s not that old” You retaliated, watching as Eddie stood up from where he had knelt before you. 
“Oh well thank you, sweetheart.” His voice dripped with sarcasm as he pushed your hair away from your face. A gesture that felt oddly romantic given the way you had found yourselves in this situation. 
Eddie moved to slot his lips over yours, taking your bottom lip between his and sucking. You melted into the kiss and ran your tongue over his bottom lip, begging for entrance. He let you take control for a few seconds before he slipped his tongue into your mouth and you tasted yourself on him. The whimper that you let out was downright pornographic but you couldn’t find it in yourself to be embarrassed. 
“Fuck sweetheart, wrap your legs around me” Eddie’s voice was raspy and it cut through you like a knife, you didn’t even ask him why before you had your legs tightly holding onto his waist. He wasted no time picking you up from the table and carrying you to the bedroom, taking extra care to lie you gently down on the bed in the middle of the room, crawling to hover above you and attach his lips to your neck, sucking right onto your pulse point, causing a desperate moan to leave you. 
Your legs tightened around him and he ground his hips down into you, his desperation was evident even though he was trying hopelessly to seem calm and collected. But with you lying underneath him that seemed to be impossible. With his head buried in your neck as he desperately worked to leave you covered in as many marks as possible, you tried to shift his weight off you so you could flip yourselves over. But he just tightened his grip on your waist, and hand that he still hadn’t let go off. Keeping you firmly pinned to the mattress. 
“Eddie, I- oh fuck” he ground his hips down against you as you began speaking, stealing the breath from your lungs. “Eddie, do you not want me to…” Your confidence suddenly slipped again, you wanted to offer to suck his dick. But you had only given head a couple of times, each time being to a guy your age who was probably just grateful to have a girl on her knees in front of him. Eddie was older, and a world-famous rockstar. You didn’t want to embarrass yourself. But you really wanted to taste him. 
“What is it doll?” Eddie pushed as he dusted light kisses across your jaw, rubbing circles over the slip of skin that was exposed where your t-shirt had ridden up. 
“Can I- can I suck your dick?” Your voice was small and Eddie couldn’t tell if you were just nervous or if you didn’t actually want to. 
“You don’t have to sweetheart, don’t worry about it.” Either way, he wasn’t going to let you do something unless he was absolutely positive that you really wanted to. He dipped back down and pulled you into a long, deep kiss. Your hands flew to the back of his neck as you kissed him back, all tongue and teeth, but you wouldn’t want it any other way. 
“I want to though” You insisted, barely moving your lips off of Eddie’s. Eddie’s long hair fell around you both, cutting you off from being able to see anything other than his face as he leaned over you. 
Eddie still wasn’t sure, he noticed the way your hands that you had on the back of his neck had moved so you could mess with your fingers. He didn’t know you well enough to know if that was a nervous habit of yours, but it was one of his, so he took a safe guess that you were probably more nervous than you were letting on. 
“S’okay doll. Honestly, if I get your mouth on me this’ll be over a lot quicker than either of us want.” He moved to rest all his waist on one hand, the other moving to push your t-shirt up, he looked up at you to make sure that was okay and when you nodded with way too much enthusiasm, he let out a quiet laugh and lifted your t-shit off you, lowering himself to place kisses down your chest and stomach. 
Feeling his lips on your skin sent a bolt of electricity shooting through your body and suddenly all you needed was to feel him inside you. You whimpered and grabbed the back of the top he was still wearing, you hadn’t even noticed he had already taken off his leather jacket. Eddie soon realised what you wanted, sitting back on his haunches to pull his top over his head. 
Your eyes dropped down to stare at Eddie, his pale body covered in tattoos, across his chest and arms. Your hand impulsively reaching out to trace over them. Eddie smiled and picked up your other arm, dotting little kisses up and down it. You lowered your hand that had been tracing over his tattoos and began to undo his belt, frustration quickly building as you couldn’t get it undone. 
Eddie noticed how your brows knitted together and felt a pang of adoration in his chest at how sweet you looked lying below him. He took both of your hands in his as he guided your hands to help you undo his belt, breathing out a small “good girl” as you let his fingers guide yours. 
Once you had both undone it Eddie reluctantly pulled away from you and stood up to push his jeans and underwear off, grabbing a condom from the bedside table. You pushed your skirt off and when you looked back up at Eddie your gaze dropped down and your breath hitched in your throat. He was… big. You felt your whole body tense up as you realised you had never been with someone that big before. Two of his fingers alone were enough to feel a lingering pressure in your stomach. 
Eddie leaned back down over you and pressed a gentle kiss on your lips, his hand caressing the apple of your cheek as you widened your legs more and he settled between them comfortably. 
“You okay, sweetheart?” Eddie whispered as he moved to adjust your legs around him and grab a pillow from the bed. “Can you lift your hips-” You moved slightly so Eddie could place the pillow below you. “Thank you, baby” He praised you as you followed his instructions instantly. 
“D’you still want this?” Eddie asked suddenly, his voice dropping back to his normal tone, rather than the more controlling, deeper one he had been speaking with before. You nodded your head quickly and muttered out a little “please” as he carefully watched your face. 
Your enthusiasm seemed to please him enough to carry on, and he kissed you once more before moving his hand down to guide himself into you. He ran his cock through your folds and groaned at the wetness he found there “Shit doll, you need it bad huh?” You moaned out as the head of his cock hit your bundle of nerves, bucking your hips up and digging your fingers into the bed. He shushed you and pushed your hips back down “I really gotta teach you some patience angel.” He told you as he ground his hips forward, grinding over your dripping cunt but not pushing in. 
“Just so desperate for someone to finally fuck you how you need aren’t you?” Your head lolled to the side as he kept grinding into you, hitting your clit each time. “Uh uh, eyes on me sweetheart.” 
You used all the energy you could muster to lift your head back to a position where you could look right at Eddie. “There she is, I’m not even inside you yet and you look fucked out, this enough for you?” Eddie cooed. “Don’t even need my cock inside you, do you?” The desperate cry that came from the back of your throat at his words almost made Eddie feel bad, but you sounded so pretty. “No no, please- fuck please.” Your legs tightened around his waist in protest to what he just said, Eddie bit back a smirk and let out a “yeah?”  in fake pity. 
“Need you inside me fuck- just please Eddie I–” Your cries were getting more desperate by the second and Eddie shushed you as he lined himself up at your entrance, pressing a light kiss to your neck to soothe you. “Okay angel, I hear you. Gonna make you feel so good, I promise.” 
Eddie began to push inside of you, but only got so far before you let out a sound that sounded far too close to discomfort for him. He stopped moving and looked up to see your eyes closed tightly. “Hey, hey, look at me, come on.” You had never heard his voice that soft before, but you did what he asked, looking at him. 
“You okay?” He asked, concern laced in his voice. 
“M’okay, you’re just… bigger than I’m used to” A cocky grin spread across Eddie’s voice at your words and you gently pushed on his shoulder. His ego didn’t need to be any bigger than it already was. 
“You want me to stop? I can eat you out again if you want?” He sounded so sincere that when you went to open your mouth to respond you couldn’t think of anything, so caught off guard by ‘asshole rockstar eddie’ being the exact opposite of what everyone knew him as. 
“Sweetheart? You with me?” He held your face in his hand and rubbed his thumb along your jaw. 
“Yeah um– no just keep going, please, I just needed a second to get used to it” You told him, a small laugh from you making him relax again. He attached his lips to yours and kissed you dizzy. A deep kiss that had you whimpering softly against his lips and distracted you from the pressure of Eddie pushing into you again. 
“Fuck you’re so tight doll” Eddie said against your lips. The pressure built up again and you held onto his shoulder, digging your nails into the skin there. 
“You’ve gotta relax for me angel, okay? Deep breaths, yeah?” Eddie whispered against your jaw, desperately trying to hold himself back from slamming into you, but you felt so good already. 
You nodded and took a deep breath, but it was Eddie attaching his mouth back onto the sweet spot on your neck and sucking that relaxed you the most. The need that overtook you let Eddie finally bottom out, both of you letting out filthy moans at the feeling. “Fuck good girl, there you go, feel so fucking good” Eddie praised you, not moving yet, giving you time to adjust to him inside you. But you were sure that if he didn’t move soon you were going to cry. 
“Eddie please move, I’m okay– Need you to fuck me” You begged. He pulled up from where he was tracing kisses down your throat, readjusting himself to rest on his forearms either side of your head. 
Eddie pulled his hips and back and pushed all the way back in, your legs secured around his waist, keeping him as close to you as possible. The way he grinded his hips into you had you seeing stars, soft whimpers falling from your lips every time he pressed into you harder and deeper.
 At one particular thrust you let out the the most pornographic moan you had ever heard yourself make, making Eddie fuck you harder, making sure to hit that spot deep inside of you that no one else had ever reached before. Your cunt clenched around him at the sensation and he let out a deep groan from the back of his throat, his hips faltering for a second before he pushed back into you even harder than before. “Fucking Jesus– shit y/n you can’t do that to me” he moaned out “Gonna make me come so fuckin’ fast, you’re so tight already oh my god– .” He was just talking to distract himself from his impending orgasm at this point, determined to make you come before him. 
You and Eddie found a perfect rhythm after a while, your hips rolling against his as he kept hitting that sweet spot inside you. Your eyes closed and Eddie wasn’t having any of it, repeatedly telling you to look at him. But no matter how many times he said it your eyes would inevitably close again, too overcome with pleasure to focus on anything else. 
Eddie brought his hand to your neck and simply rested it there, giving you the freedom to tell him to stop or move it if you didn’t like it. But when your hand moved to rest over his and you looked up at him with fucked-out eyes, he tightened his hold on your neck and you cried out. “Yeah? You like that, you just need someone to be a little rough with you huh?” Eddie teased, “It’s okay, just wanna be treated like a whore sometimes is that right? God you’re so fucking good for me doll”. His hand kept a firm hold across your throat, making sure to squeeze in the correct places so he didn’t cut off your air supply completely, but gave you that feeling of euphoria you craved. 
It was all too much, but not enough at the same time. Your arousal covering your cunt and things, the noises were filthy but it felt so good that you weren’t embarrassed by how you could hear how wet you were each time Eddie drove his cock into you. Your thighs were numb around Eddie’s waist, your hips burning as you felt that coil tightening in your stomach again. His hand around your throat pinning you to the bed was your last straw, you felt tears prickling at the corner of your eyes from how good you felt. 
“Fuck Eddie– I’m gonna-” You tried to tell him, his grip on your neck loosening slightly, making it easier for you to speak. 
“You’re gonna come again angel?” You nodded, whimpers and moans falling from your lips. Eddie moved his hand from around your neck, moving it between your two bodies until he placed two fingers over your clit, rubbing fast circles over it. 
Your back arched off the bed and your mouth hung open in a silent scream. “There you go, good fucking girl.” Eddie exclaimed, watching you in adoration as you came undone beneath him for the second time that night. 
You didn’t even know how long your orgasm lasted, but Eddie worked you through it until you came back around. Looking up at him above you, damp hair clinging to his forehead, kiss-bitten lips parted as he let out quiet moans at the feel of your cunt around him, you could see how desperate he was to come. 
“God, can you turn over for me doll” Eddie asked, but he was already pulling out of you and gripping your hips to put you in the position he wanted you. Your legs felt like they were going to give out any minute, but you didn’t care. You moved onto your front and Eddie pulled your hips back against him as your back arched up, burying your face into the pillow in front of you. Eddie slipped back in and you practically screamed out at the overstimulation, but you never wanted him to stop. 
“God that’s it– gonna come soon angel, doing so well for me.” Eddie’s voice came out raspy and his voice broke at the end. You only pushed your hips back into him harder. 
You felt Eddie still inside of you as he came hard and fast, not bothering to hold back the tidal wave of moans and groans that left his lips as his orgasm washed over him. His hands holding your hips so tightly you wouldn't be surprised if there were bruises there in the morning. 
He took a minute to compose himself before he pulled out of you, you whimpered at the feeling and he whispered comforting sh-sh-sh’s and apologised repeatedly. You managed to gather enough energy to turn yourself back over. Eddie walked back over to the bed, his boxers already back on. He knelt on the end of the bed and pulled some tissues from the table nearby. “Open your legs for me doll” You did as he asked, letting out little gasps as he cleaned you up, still sensitive from everything that had just happened. “You want a top to sleep in? Or…” Eddie asked, slightly more abrupt than you had been expecting, but you figured it was just the comedown after sex. 
“Yeah please” you answered quietly, reaching out to grab one of his tops he had already gone to get for you. You threw it, and your underwear, back on. Not entirely sure of what happened now, but when Eddie simply turned off the lamps around the room and climbed into bed you followed his lead and he only reached over to pull you across him as he fell asleep. 
There weren’t any more words exchanged between the two of you as you finally drifted off to sleep, limbs tangled together. 
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.
.
You woke up to the morning sun beating through the windows. The spring sun sitting high in the sky, lighting the room up in a near-magical way. You awoke in almost the same position you had fallen asleep in, except now you were facing away from Eddie, instead of being buried in his still bare chest. 
You yawned quietly and stretched your arm above you, careful not to wake Eddie. This was all still so surreal. Your eyes scanned the room you had woken up in, being able to take in your surroundings properly for the first time.
Your gaze was drawn to the living room that was directly across from the bedroom, there were no doors leading to the two rooms, instead being replaced instead by overly-sized archways which allowed you to see right through the bedroom to the living room. The rooms were only separated by the wide hallway. 
The living room was ginormous, and one wall was simply a massive window, overlooking the city skyline, it was beautiful, you couldn't deny that. The couch sat in the middle of the room with a glass coffee table in front of it, decorated with magazines and a vase of flowers. You took a wild guess that those were always there, you didn’t imagine Eddie was requesting for flowers to be put in his room. 
A tv sat on the other side of the room, with various other decorative pieces scattered around, the most eye-catching was the massive rug that covered most of the floor. The dim lights illuminated the elegance of the place, and you couldn’t help but feel this place was the opposite of Eddie. 
You felt your stomach drop at the realisation that you still didn’t understand Eddie. He had been perfect last night, it felt like something out of a romance novel where the guy is the perfect man, attentive and caring. But he wasn’t like that at the start of the night, and by the end of the night he didn’t say another word to you.
Before you could overthink it anymore a loud knock rang through the suite. You remembered Eddie’s security saying he would come over in the morning, but Eddie wasn’t stirring. You considered shaking him awake, but just as you were about to turn over and wake him another knock came from the door. Louder this time, followed by a deep voice calling out Eddie’s name, saying something like “Get your ass up and out of bed or I swear to god–” 
That seemed to cut through even Eddie’s deepest sleep and you felt the bed dip as Eddie begrudgingly got up and padded over to open the door before it was knocked down. You didn’t think he had noticed you were awake too, so you didn’t move, instead staying in bed and listening to the conversation happening down the hall. 
“Ah! He’s still alive, that’s always good to know, makes my job easier.” you heard the sarcastic remarks of Eddie’s security, hearing humor in his voice for the first time. 
“Do you like pissing me off this early in the morning, John? Or is it a happy accident?” Eddie retaliated, sounding much too like a sullen teenager for a forty year old man. 
“Happy accident. Is the young lady awake or do you want me to come back?” John asked, peering behind Eddie trying to catch a glimpse of you. He couldn’t of course, you still hadn’t moved from the bed. 
“No she’s uh– asleep.” Eddie’s voice got quieter as he said something else to John. So quiet you didn’t hear the rest of the conversation, just the door shutting about a minute later, and Eddie’s footsteps as he made his way back to the bedroom. 
Your eyes met as he walked in and you sat up on the edge of the bed, ankles crossed as you placed your hands behind you, leaning back. You saw Eddie carrying the clothes that had been left in the hallway the night before, placing them down on the bed and nodding his head in acknowledgment. 
“He’s like a grumpy dad or something” you tried to joke, letting out a feeble attempt at a laugh. Not that he was even old enough to be Eddie’s dad, in fact he was probably only a couple years older than him. 
“Uh-huh.” Was all Eddie said, but you thought you saw him tense up. So, you took your second wild guess of the morning that maybe you shouldn’t bring up parents with Eddie, seemingly a sore subject for him. 
That was something else about Eddie. He had been in the public eye for nearly fifteen years now, and yet no one knew anything about his life before. Literally, nothing. You figured that had to be deliberate, there was no way no one had found out anything about him, or what his life was like before, but if they had, they had probably been paid off to keep their mouths shut. You couldn’t imagine why, almost every rockstar had a dodgy past, scandals and an arrest record were commonplace. They didn’t care about any of that, but Eddie was different. 
Eddie’s morning voice cut through your thoughts. “John will uh, be back in like two minutes. So, you can get dressed if you want.” 
Oh. 
You watched Eddie as he threw on a pair of jeans and a top, not bothering to look at you as he all but told you to leave. “He’s already called a cab for you so– yeah.” You wanted to say something, ask him something, anything. But you didn’t know what. 
This was what he did. You had known this going into it. 
Instead you threw on your clothes from the day before, barely having time to put your shoes on before there was a knock on the door. Your head flew up to see Eddie was already staring at you as he leant against the archway to the living room. He quickly turned away as your eyes met and he pushed himself off the wall to walk over and open the door. You followed far behind, standing halfway down the hallway, holding back tears you could feel forming. You were so fucking stupid. 
As soon as the door opened John saw you stood there. You swear you saw something like pity flash in his eyes before he went back to his usual, somewhat angry, demeanor. “I’m gonna go see if the other guys are up yet, need to talk to them about some changes for tonights show.” Eddie’s voice was quiet but you could hear it all the same. John just nodded and moved to the side to let Eddie past. 
You thought he would say goodbye to you. 
Say something before he left. 
He didn’t. 
He left you standing in his hotel room, his security guard waiting to walk you to the cab waiting for you outside. Your stomach dropped at the realisation that you weren’t any different to the others. That he probably spoke to everyone the way he had spoken to you, looked at them the way he looked at you. 
It would have killed you to realise that he didn’t speak to everyone like that, and he certainly didn’t look at everyone the same way he looked at you. And he knew that, and it scared the shit out of him. 
So he left. 
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authors note my loves! this took me far too long to write so i hope you enjoyed it, at least a little bit <3 i apologise for any spelling or grammar mistakes but i'm posting this at 2am so it is what it is. also, this is still only my second ever fic, so please go easy on me, i'm way too sensitive <3 okay bye love you
taglist @squidwards-fave-tentacle @hbaramas @cardiganquinn @etherealeddie @eddies-girl-22 @tlclick73 @c0untryclub @eddiemunson95 @thatfantagirl @icant-hangout-imdrumming
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gay-dorito-dust · 10 months
Note
I don’t know if you have this but please can i request headcandons of the spiderverse Boys with their lover reader wearing their (spider boys) clothing like a hoodie or a t shirt?
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Miles thought he had stopped breathing when he saw you wear the jacket he has been searching high and low for the past fifteen minutes.
He had been wanting to see you in his clothes but the poor boy didn’t know how to say it without tripping and stumbling awkwardly over his words like a new born baby deer.
‘Hey, have you seen my jacket-‘ his words faltered and then later died on his lips when he raised his eyes as he entered his room, only to see you wearing the very jacket he had been searching high and low for. ‘You’re wearing it.’ His voice cracked and out of embarrassment Miles cleared his throat and tried again. ‘You’re- You’re wearing it.’
You smiled at him, finding his attempts in keeping his cool amusing, especially when it was doing something small like wearing his clothes but you couldn’t help yourself! The jacket was still somewhat warm from previous use and smelt like him, which brought you comfort for the days where he couldn’t always be with you as it felt as though you had a part of him always with you. Though it doesn’t compare to actually having Miles with you, it still brought you a sense of relief and security that you always get when with the young lad.
‘Did you want it back?’ You asked, about to take it off when Miles exclaimed ‘no!’ Making you both jump with how loud it came out but made you both laugh none the less. ‘I mean, no, keep it on as long as you want. You look great in it.’ Miles admits, running the back of his neck, highly aware of the heat radiating within of every part of his body, from the tips of his ears to his chest and even to his feet, as though it was going to burn him from the inside out.
‘Just great?’ You teased, brows raised.
‘Did I say great? I meant you look beautiful, handsome, pretty, beautiful, cosy, comfy.’ Miles rambled and you knew you had to intervene before he hurts himself, which lead you to walk towards him and hold his face in your hands, internally melting when his beautiful doe brown eyes looked into yours as though they’re the only thing grounding him right now. ‘Relax, I’m only teasing babe.’ You reassured him, thumbs stroking his cheeks as means of calming him down. ‘Now are you comfortable with me wearing your stuff because I can stop if you want.’
Just when you were about to pulls your hands away from his face so you could remove and hand back his jacket, Miles placed his hands over yours, keeping them glued to his face as he looked at you adoringly. ‘It doesn’t bother me at all.’ He tells you. ‘In fact it makes me really happy just seeing you in my stuff,’ he chuckles to himself. ‘I swear it feels as though I’m still dreaming sometimes.’ He finishes.
Miles loves it when you wear his clothes as it means that even when you were apart, you’re thinking about him, always and wishing for his safe return. He feels loved, extremely loved.
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Pavitr’s day is immediately made a thousand times better when he notices that you’ve been wearing his clothes. He fucking adores it so much to the point that he’s already making plans on just letting you use his wardrobe at your disposal.
It doesn’t necessarily have to be a bad day because seeing you in his clothes even on days where he’s mentally, emotionally and physically okay, he’s automatically made even more chipper and happy to the point he will not shut up about his rant on how cute and adorable you look in his shirt.
He’s talking about a mile a minute that you were starting to get concerned when you saw he wasn’t stopping for breath. When he does remember to breath, you were able to realise the breath that you didn’t know that you had been withholding yourself.
Probably has a multitude of pictures of you wearing his clothes and might’ve made one his lock/Home Screen or maybe both, so that when he was doing his spider-man stuff, he’d be reminded that you were waiting for you Pav to come back safe and sound.
He will shamelessly scream it from the rooftops that you were wearing his clothes and say loud enough for all those within the radius to hear. He’s not ashamed in the slightest and will brag about it until he can’t no more. His friends, Hobie, Miles, Gwen and Margo were often subjected to these bragging sessions more so then anyone else.
To the point where Hobie and Miles dog pile him in getting him to shut up about you wearing his clothes for a second. Yes they get it, it’s really cut that your wearing his clothes and how when you return them to him they smell like you’ve never left.
They get it, Pavitr is an absolute sucker for you in his shirts and whilst they found it cute themselves, pav didn’t need to get all dramatic with his long winded speech about how his clothes on you looked as though they were tailored to fit you like the did him, nor how he believes that was a sign for him that you two were meant to be together forever.
Overall Pavitr gets overwhelmingly affectionate when you wear his stuff to the point where your being smothered alive by his constrictive hugs and flurries of kisses raining down on your face. He loves, loves, loves seeing you in his clothes. It makes him happier then he’s ever been.
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Hobie is the definition of ‘what’s yours is mine and what’s mine is yours.’
So let’s say you find his vest with the pins spanning across the lapels and the spikes that traversed across the shoulders, draped over the door and decided to wear it for a while until Hobie notices it’s absence.
Jokes on you though because Hobie never left anything of his without it being purely intentional and Hobie left his vest over at yours with the intention that you’d pick it up and wear it out of your own fruition, rather then having him telling you to wear it.
Outwardly his reaction upon seeing you wearing his vest is relatively neutral but that’s only to those on the outside but you could see the smile etching it’s way across his face along with the mischievous, all knowing glint within his eyes that told you all that you had willingly fallen right into his trap, just as he expected.
You’ve been had but you couldn’t be mad because it meant that Hobie had this in mind for a while and played the waiting game to execute his little plan. He wanted to see you in his clothes that he was willing to leave his beloved vest in your hands.
Hobie isn’t territorial but just seeing you in his clothes makes him feel all sorts of things but he just chalks it down to being a spider attribute he got from the bite and nothing else.
All this cheeky fuck would say to seeing you in his vest is; ‘guess I was right, it suits you.’ Which might as well have been his way of telling you that you were more then welcome to steal his clothes but just don’t be surprised when you start seeing some of your own stuff disappearing now and then.
Can’t find your crop top?
Hobie’s wearing it the next time you see him.
Needless to say Hobie loves it when you wear his stuff, so he’s going to do the exact same but with your clothes because he loves the expressions he gets when you ultimately realises who had been stealing your clothes for the past few days.
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Miguel may act cool, calm and collected with a smidge of feral his heart isn’t immune from melting at the sight of you wearing his clothing.
It doesn’t even matter how long you’ve been doing it as it always made this secret softy feel as though it was the first time all over again.
Miguel is so occupied with his work to unhealthy extent that he doesn’t realise your wearing one of his shirts, and even when he does; it takes him a minute due to the lack of sleep affecting his ability to comprehend his reality before he’s doing a double take upon realising that yes, that was his shirt your wearing.
It’s cute watching his eyes nearly pop out of his head upon realisation.
‘Is that my shirt?’ He’d ask, although already knowing the answer. He’s not against it, he’s just surprised that you’d even want to wear anything of his. He doesn’t think he’s deserving of such a gesture but it touches his heart nonetheless.
‘I missed you.’ You replied, tugging at the bottom of his shirt. ‘You’re so busy with work that I don’t often get alone time with you anymore. So whenever your away and I’m missing you, I go through your closet and pick a shirt out, and wear it for the rest of the day because it makes me feel as though your here with me.’ You finished with a shrug.
Miguel couldn’t help but feel his heart hurt upon your admittance of missing him. He knows how often he prioritises his work that he was completely blindsided by how it affect you, so much so to the extent that you sought out comfort from his clothes because he was nowhere to be found.
‘You look at home in my clothes.’ He tells you as he decided then and there to cut out some time of his day just for you and be there for you like a lover should be. ‘And I’m sorry that I haven’t been here as much as I should but I promise that’ll change.’ Miguel practically pleads to you as he holds you against his muscular chest, his hands rubbing your back, secretly loving how his shirt looked on you more so then anything.
Seeing you wear his clothes became Miguel’s favourite sight to see first thing in the morning and last thing at night. He takes pride out of it but the reasoning behind it will always make him upset at himself at his failings of being a partner.
It’s something he’s improved on ever since and you couldn’t help but get giddy when you felt him walk up behind you in the mornings, burying his head into your neck, greeting it with kisses, as his arms enclose on your waist, speaking to you in his low raspy morning voice about how beautiful/ handsome/cute/pretty/stunning you looked to the point where you wanted nothing then to bury yourself into his chest so he couldn’t see the dopey, lovesick smile beaming across your face.
Miguel isn’t immune to seeing you wearing his clothes and he never will be because it’s a declaration of love in its own unique way.
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Peter B would find you wearing his clothes unbearably adorable.
He just wanted to squeeze you tightly but knew that probably wasn’t the smartest idea considering with his strength but that never stopped him from taking photos of you doing mundane things in his shirt or sweatpants that you had to tie up by the drawstrings.
Peter has taken too many pictures that he might as well have dedicated an entire album to you wearing his sweats, shirts or even his pink bathrobe and doing mundane things such as making breakfast, watching your favourite shows on tv, playing with Mayday and the like.
So don’t be surprised when he starts showing anyone that would listen over at the spider society pictures of his lover looking absolutely gorgeous/handsome/pretty/beautiful/adorable in his clothes 24/7. Miguel especially but Jess, Miles, Gwen, Pavitr, Hobie and Margo were also some that got pestered by Peter.
Peter B is also very vocal and would smother you praise of how good you look in his clothes because what he says is 100% genuine.
For example;
‘Look at you! You look amazing!’
‘You’re so cute in my clothes, please don’t stop wearing them.’
‘How could my lover look even better when they’re wearing my clothes. It shouldn’t be possible but here you are, proving me wrong.’
This corny bastard would teasingly call you a mini version of him since you want to wear his stuff so badly.
You’ve defiantly caught him admiring you from afar when you wear his clothes. His eyes are soft and half lidded as he rests his face against his hand, he wasn’t aware that he was leaning so much to the point that before long he was on the floor. It’s so cartoonish and goofy but it’s just so Peter that you can’t help but let out a little chuckle before going over to help your lover off of the floor.
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viridescent-din · 1 year
Text
benevolence
you always imagined it your first kiss would be... softer, than it ends up being. but it’s joel. you probably should have known.
smut, 18+. age gap. joel is a grumpy old man who hates himself and reader is down bad.
~
The first time Joel kisses you, it isn’t romantic.
It’s angry - he’s angry. The clicker that just had its hands on you lies motionless a few feet away, mouth frozen in the open position it was in when Joel shot it. Joel is checking you over relentlessly for bites. He’s running his hands over your waist, flashing his light on your neck... fuck, he’s even tugging up the cuffs of your jeans to check your ankles.
“You don’t do that,” he pants, fuming once he knows you’re okay. You’re adrenalized, shaken up and not working off your best judgment. You meet Joel’s eyes.
“Don’t do what? Be on the wrong side of the room? Have the batteries run out of my flashlight? This wasn’t my fault, Joel.” Joel shakes his head, pissed, and he grips the nape of your neck. You didn’t even realize his hand is still there, sturdy and calloused. You bite your cheek. “I didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Shut up,” Joel growls, and it makes you even more upset.
“I didn’t - stop blaming me. Stop making me feel like a dumbass, because I’m trying and I’m tired but I’m still better than half the people in the Q -”
Joel cuts you off before you can keep egging either of you on, his lips connecting with yours in a harsh and almost painful way. Your teeth clash, and Joel kisses you with so much force you almost fall, the only thing saving you being his strong arm wrapping around your back. You open your mouth, probably from shock, and Joel’s tongue does a quick sweep around the cavern when you do. Your hands fly up to Joel’s chest instinctively for balance, and you can feel his racing heartbeat under your palm. It makes you falter. You didn’t realize he was so worried.
You’re just starting to ease into it Joel stops.
His teeth catch your bottom lip as he pulls away, and you both taste blood. Joel steps away, the both of you just staring at each other, panting.
“Do you get it?” He asks, voice gruff. “Don’t fucking do that.”
You blink, years of pining and want pouring over you. You swallow, tasting just a bit of what you think is Joel.
“Yeah,” you tell him. “I get it.”
~
The second time isn’t any more passionate. It’s done to prove a point, just like the first.
You’re leaning against the counter as you drink at the bar, still trying to wrap your head around this actual town Tommy is living in. It feels so real - like the flashes of memory you have of the world before the outbreak. You’re shivering a bit, your hair still wet from the shower you took. The shower with warm water. Joel is back at the house Tommy and Maria gave you to stay in. He insisted you shower first - he wanted to make sure that if there was hot water to use up, it was you who got it. He sent you off to the bar with the promise of meeting you there soon.
You’re drinking a whiskey neat, not because you like the drink, but because it feels warm in your chest and you know Joel will finish it. You’re sipping on it as you talk to a few men that are locals. They’re a bit older than you, but definitely younger than Joel. They seem nice, better than the lecherous creeps you keep managing to find on your journey (infected or not). One of them works in the stables, taking care of the horses. You smile as you listen to him talk about them. You think you can remember a few girls in elementary school who had farms and horses before everything broke down.
A hand slides around your waist as you’re talking, and you have to crane your neck to see Joel appearing next to you. He’s much taller without a backpack: less weighed down. His shoulders are relaxed and broad. You forget how to breathe for a moment, utterly taken by him.
“Hi,” you say softly. Joel doesn’t acknowledge it. You can feel the anger permeating off him, it’s more present than the hand he has that’s now gripping your side. You blink. “Joel.”
Joel looks down at you, his eyes flickering back and forth between you and the men. He brings his free hand up to your face, cupping your jaw. This time you know, you aren’t surprised when his lips meet yours.
You’re pissed at Joel - you’re furious that he’s doing this again, touching you without any indication for months that it’s something he wants. You know Joel feels for you, but when he only confirms it so damn scarcely, it’s easy for you to doubt. You try to steel yourself, only let him in so deep, but Joel is already with you, whether he’s touching you or not. The two of you are permanently connected, just like anyone else who’s ever survived together. Despite your best efforts, you melt into him, holding onto the lapels of the jacket Joel told you he got from trading with Bill.
By the time you pull away, your potential friends are already muttering among themselves, making up excuses to leave. They exit, giving you and Joel the entirety of the counter. You shake your head, turning so you aren’t facing Joel. You give it a few minutes, then walk out in the direction of the house. You’ve barely made it out the door of the bar when Joel pulls you into the little alley next to it.
“Joel, stop. It’s snowing. I didn’t bring a coat.” Joel pulls his off, wrapping it around you. You scoff, but don’t turn it down. “Joel -”
“Didn’t want them getting the wrong idea.” He interrupts you. You stare at Joel, incredulous.
“And what wrong idea is that, Joel?” You ask, then don’t let him answer. “They were nice. Just welcoming one of the new strangers to town.”
“They weren’t just being nice.”
“Yes, Joel, they were. Have you already forgotten about that ambush that happened when we got here? This place isn’t about to let in any assholes. Not the type you’re accusing those guys of being, at least.” Joel sets his jaw, taking a step towards you. You back up as he approaches until you hit the wall of the bar. You let out a breathe, one you can see. It’s fucking cold. You don’t know how Joel isn’t shivering, his freshly showered wet hair glistening in the light of the few street lamps.
“They needed to know,” Joel says. He’s so close to you. You smell the shampoo and soap that Maria has given him, but underneath that, he’s still Joel. Musky and experienced. Territorial. You can’t help being mad at him, but you’re terrible at committing to it.
“They need to know what?” Joel doesn’t answer. He places his hands on either side of you, caging you in. He won’t look at you. You raise your arms, placing your hands on Joel’s. You slip your thumbs under the long sleeves on his shirt, rubbing at Joel’s lifeline. His lips part as he exhales. “Joel, nobody can know about this when you won’t even say anything about it to me.”
You expect Joel to fight, maybe chastise you, but he doesn’t. He slumps against you, head buried in your chest and arms wrapping around your torso in a crushing bear hug. You blink, caught off guard, but you recover quickly, throwing one hand around Joel’s shoulders and bringing the other to massage the nape of his neck. You can feel the fight leaving Joel, just for a moment. You wonder what’s softening him: the shower, the almost normal town, finding Tommy.
You.
Joel doesn’t do this. You don’t know anything about his life before the outbreak, but you know he hasn’t loved many people. He’s approaching this in all the wrong ways, but he doesn’t know any better. He has to re learn, and you have to learn for the first time.
All Joel needs right now is a little reassurance.
“Joel. Joel. Baby,” you whisper in his ear, pressing your lips to his temple. “They didn’t want anything from me. And it wouldn’t matter if they did. They’re nothing.” Joel’s fingers dig into your ribs, and you can tell you’re going to bruise. You don’t care. “They’re nothing. I don’t care about them. I don’t care about anyone here.”
You close your eyes, burying your nose in the side of Joel’s neck and inhaling. You let Joel surround you, take up all your senses. You posture up, taking Joel with you. You take his face in your hands, your lips brushing over his forehead, cheeks, nose. You kiss the patches in his beard where the hair doesn’t grow, and his eyelids when his eyes drift shut. You’re overcome with affection, the feelings you push down every time you see Joel forcing themselves up. You almost want to cry. “Joel, you’re so handsome.” Joel tenses, praise unfamiliar to him, but you watch as he forces himself not to reject it. His fingers find the loops of your jeans, pulling you flush against him so there isn’t any part of you that isn’t touching. You let him. You ask for it.
“They’re not you,” you promise him. “Nobody here will ever be you.”
~
The night at the bar doesn’t magically fix everything. But it does make it harder for you and Joel to let go of each other - metaphorically and literally - so you start to sleep with him. Every night, Joel tucks you under his arm, letting you use his steady heartbeat to fall asleep to. Every morning, you wake up with the positions reversed, cradling Joel’s head to your chest.
The first time Joel has a nightmare, you think someone (something) has broken in.
You wake up to Joel thrashing, drenching the covers in a cold sweat. You grab his shoulders and shake, putting any worries about hurting Joel aside.
“Joel,” you say, your voice shaking but firm. “Wake up. Wake up,” Joel sits up, his eyes flying open. He blinks, gathering his bearings and realizing he’s safe. You pant, reaching out to put a hand on his arm. Joel flinches, so you draw it away. “Sorry,” you apologize. Joel turns, looking at you like he didn’t realize you were there. He says your name, sounding broken.
“You’re -” he says, then pauses, trying to figure what he’s trying to say. “You’re here.” You stare at him.
“Yeah, Joel.” You say. “I’m here. I’m with you.” Joel reaches for you, tugging you close and then pressing you against the sheets. He grunts, like he’s trying to make sense of everything.
“Can I - Will you let me -” Joel searches for the words, but can’t come up with them. You just nod.
“Yes,” you tell him. “You can do whatever you need. I trust you.” Joel freezes above you, almost glaring. His hands begin to toy with the hem of your shirt, and your heart begins to pound against your rib cage.
Joel slowly pulls your shirt up, dragging his mouth over every inch of skin he reveals. His chapped lips explore every curve and softness of your belly, and when you raise your arms so he can rid you of the article of clothing completely, he does the same to your breasts. It doesn’t even feel sexual, Joel isn’t licking or biting. He’s just feeling, touching. You feel dizzy, arousal pooling between your legs. You grip the sheets between your fingers.
“I’m only good for you in here,” Joel says against your skin. It sends vibrations throughout your body, you feel his voice everywhere. You shake, but you’re not cold. He sits back on his knees to look at you, so you prop yourself up on your elbows. You blink.
“I don’t know what you mean,” you admit. Joel shakes his head.
“I’m good for you here,” he gestures to the room. “And here,” he jabs a finger to his chest, over his heart, then mirrors the action on you. It kind of hurts, but you don’t show it. “But out there? I’m not a good man,” you open your mouth to protest, but Joel shuts you down with just one look. You stay silent. “I’ve done... I’ve done some bad things. Bad enough I don’t think Tommy really wanted to see me again.” Joel shakes his head. “And I - I would do those things for you. I even want to sometimes.” Your eyes widen, and Joel sees it. He sours. “Bein’ good for you means that I’m bad for everyone else. Do you get what I’m tellin’ you?” Joel’s drawl comes out as he gets more emotional. “You need to know that. And if we’re gonna keep doing this, you need to accept it too. It might not be fair. I don’t know if it is. But this is the way things are. You understand me?”
You stare at Joel, watching him bare himself to you in a way you don’t think he’s done for anyone else in a long, long, time. You suck in a shaky breath, and swallow.
“I understand you.” You pull Joel over you, looking up at him. “I still trust you.” You tell him.
Joel lets his head drop, not letting you see him. He works his way down your chest, from your collarbone to navel until he reaches the button of your jeans. Glancing at you to tell him to stop, he strips you of the pants when you don’t. You watch as he looks at you, staring at your most intimate area, and then presses his face to the inside of your thigh. He strokes your calf.
“You don’t what you’re gettin’ yourself into.” He murmurs, almost absentmindedly.
“Yes I do,” you protest. “I’ve been with you for years, Joel. I know you as much as you’ve let me. Let me know more. Let me decide for myself.”Joel holds your gaze. You pant, throbbing. “Let me give something to you. If you don’t think I know you, or us, that’s fine. It makes me sad, but it’s fine.” Joel presses an open mouthed kiss to the meat of your thigh, and you whimper. “I know myself, though, Joel. I know what I want. It’s you. I promise. I’m trusting you, Joel. Can’t you just trust me too?”
Joel looks at you in awe, and then gives you an affectionate frown. He doesn’t say ‘okay’ or anything like that. Instead, he just ducks his head, thrusting his tongue into your sex like a starved man, and holds you down as you keen and shake.
~
Joel used to refuse to give you any sort of heightened affection, any type of intimacy. He’s getting better at that. Joel strokes your cheek when you wake up in the morning, offers you bland but hearty oatmeal when he notices you haven’t eaten. He drops to his knees the second he sees that your shoe’s come untied.
He doesn’t like it when you try to do the same. Joel’s self-hatred is so deep seated he thinks the very act of you loving him is equivalent to any act of service. When you finally convince him to let do something for him - helping him undress, washing his hair, taking his cock down your throat - you have to promise him you want it too. Only once it’s happening will Joel let himself take. He’ll stay in the shower for hours, fuck your mouth until you can’t speak.
Joel is greedy when he lets himself be. That’s why it hurts so much that he won’t have sex with you.
“It’ll change things, baby.” He tells you, trying to ease the blow. You just don’t get it.
“We’ve already changed them.” You respond, looking away. “I don’t... I don’t want to pressure you, Joel. Just tell me if that’s not what you want.”
“Hey,” Joel grips your jaw, forcing your eyes to meet his. “That’s not it. Don’t you think that.” You swallow, but nod, accepting Joel’s words. He releases you, then begins petting your side. It’s spring now. Joel looks good under the morning light from the window. “You’re sweet. You couldn’t pressure me into anything.”
He’s right. Joel is his own man. His days of being easily influenced are long gone.
~
You learn to live with it, this tiny piece of rejection. You accept that there’s something about sex that’s too much for Joel. It’s strange, because it almost hurts more than it did before you and Joel got closer. Like you’re close enough to grab what you want, but can’t quite. It’s okay, though. You want him enough to accept whatever he’ll give you, and parts of Joel is better than none of him.
You wonder if the two of you have settled. You’ve been in Jackson for six months - but it feels like years. For the first time since you can remember, you’re living instead of surviving. It’s exhilarating. You and Joel are both showing signs of domesticity: the callouses on your hands have almost entirely disappeared, and Joel’s face has gotten a bit rounder. A couple extra pounds looks good on Joel. You like knowing he isn’t running himself to the bone.
With all this extra time, Joel has started taking you out of the town so you can perfect your shooting. He sets up targets, adjusts your grip, and watches you for what seems like hours. You’re getting better, but the process is painstaking. Everyone back in the QZ knew you were much more adept with a knife.
“Knife ain’t good for infected. You have to get too close.” Joel tells you, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. His hand snakes around your hip, pulling your knife from your front pocket. He tosses it to the side. “Now you don’t have a knife. Just the gun.” Joel points over your shoulder and at the target. “Shoot.”
You hit the target five times in the row.
You squeal in excitement, jumping up and down and dropping the gun. You turn around and practically jump into Joel’s arms. You’re grinning, and Joel is almost smiling, which for him is a huge victory. He cups your face, thumb stroking your cheekbone before he kisses you.
You’re still smiling into Joel’s mouth, and he’s swallowing your moans as one of his hands drops from your face to your chest. He finds the hardened bud of your nipple even over the material of your shirt - you never wear bras anymore, you haven’t felt the need since coming to Jackson - and he pinches. You whimper, pleasure shooting through your veins. Joel is hard, you can see the tent in your pants, feel it against your belly. When he breaks the kisses, Joel keeps himself pressed to you.
“I need this too, baby. I need it too.” You can hear the fight in Joel’s voice, the inner turmoil. You try to say okay, but can’t find the words.
~
Joel picks you up, throws you onto your shared bed. He’s being reckless - he literally tossed the gun on the couch in the living room. It’s not loaded, but still.
Joel stands back, breathing slightly erratic, and stares at you. He eyes you hungrily, like a starving man.
He’s about to indulge.
Joel pulls his shirt over his head, and you do the same, shimmying out of your jeans. You freeze when when Joel takes off the last item of his clothes, staring. You swallow.
Joel is beautiful.
You push yourself up, crawling to the edge of the bed. You place your hands on Joel’s sides, looking up to meet his eyes. He gives you an affectionate frown, stroking your cheek. He’s so broad. You press your lips to Joel’s collarbone, then cover him in your kisses. You kiss his neck, shoulders, chest, belly. Joel groans, his hand tangling in your hair. His cock is hard against his stomach, and you give the head a quick lick, cupping his balls. Joel’s eyes fly open, and before you even know what’s happening, he’s pressed you flat against the sheets, pinning your arms above your head.
“Don’t,” Joel warns you. “It’s been too long. And you’re -” Joel cuts himself, dragging his tongue over your throat to catch a bead of sweat. He presses his length against your hip, and you gasp. “You touch me like that again and I’ll cum.”
“Joel,” you whisper, but he just shakes his head. He holds his palm out in front of your face.
“Spit,” he commands. “You’re gonna want to make it easier on yourself, darlin.’” You take a breath, your chest brushing Joel’s. You squeeze your legs together, searching for any type of friction. Your face burns. “C’mon,” Joel says, softer this time. “I’ve seen you sweatin’ with blood caked in your hair. I’ve seen at your worst. Right now I’m seein’ you at your best.” A small smile manages to crinkle the edges of Joel’s eyes. “Nothing to be embarrassed about here.”
You blink up at Joel, and realize you feel exactly the way you always do around him: safe. Free, supported. You don’t have to worry about anything, not looking pretty or being good enough. It’s Joel.
You’re with Joel.
You spit in his hand, then watch as he strokes his cock with it. He spreads the beads of pre cum on his head down the shaft too, and then runs himself through your folds. You keen instantly, the feeling unlike anything (anything) you’ve ever felt. When Joel’s head brushes your clit, you feel like you’re dying.  He lines himself up, teasing your entrance, and when Joel slides in, he keeps a careful watch of your face for any signs of pain. He takes care of you.
Joel stays still to let you adjust, and you feel him everywhere. Your body, your brain, your heart. Joel is all encompassing. He’s inescapable.
When you give Joel a small nod, he starts to move. He thrusts in an out, setting a steady pace. You grip the muscle of his arms, arching your back to get him deeper.
“That’s it,” Joel tells you. “Good job,” you clench around him at the praise, and you think you hear Joel let out a chuckle. He keeps working you open, each thrust a bit deeper until he’s buried to the hilt. You and Joel stop, both feeling. He lets out a breath, drops his face in your shoulder. Joel pulls out, then enters you again, burying himself once more. “I missed you,” he says into your skin.
For a moment, you don’t know what Joel’s talking about. You’ve been traveling with him for years, and since living in Jackson, you’ve hardly left his side.
Then you realize this is Joel’s way of telling you you’re familiar, and part of him.
You wrap one of your arms around Joel’s shoulders, link your ankles behind his hips. You pull Joel impossibly close, so close he has to abandon his idea of rubbing his thumb over your clit. He does the same to your nipple instead, pinching and pulling and driving you closer and closer to the edge. You feel sensation building in your stomach, the edges of your vision blurring.
“Joel,” you gasp. “Joel, I think.. I think I’m close.” Joel shushes you, brushing baby hairs off your forehead.
“It’s alright baby, let it go. Let me make you feel good.” He tells you. All it takes is a few more sweet nothings before your shuddering against him, riding out your high. Joel’s eyes roll to the back of his head as you clench him impossibly tight. He curses. Without a word, Joel pulls out before he can climax inside you, spurting on both of your stomachs. He collapses next you, his hand finding yours and squeezing it.
“I’m sorry it took so long,” Joel murmurs, dragging  his lips across your knuckles. You can feel his cum begin to dry on your stomach. You hum.
“Worth it,” you manage to whisper back. “You’re worth it, Joel.”
Joel turns his head, meeting your eyes, taking in all of your sincerity. For know, he doesn’t know what to do with it. But he’ll learn.
He’ll re learn. All of this - these ideas of love and mutual partnership - he’ll make it familiar again. All so he can stay close.
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theemporium · 24 days
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[4.9k] things start to feel real as luke’s rookie season in the nhl officially begins. but maybe it’s not as bad as he thought. and maybe those good vibes will follow him off the ice too. (smut)
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“You look like shit.”
“I feel like shit.”
Your smile widened as you pulled the door open further, letting the boy shuffle inside with a small wince at the bright sun shining through your windows. The hood of his jumper was thrown over his head, his curls a mess and his eyes hidden behind a pair of sunglasses he stole from Jack’s room after he woke up. 
It wasn’t the best state for you to see him but, truthfully, that was not his biggest concern at the moment. 
A few months away from college and he almost forgot what a bad influence his friends could be when it came to drinking. There was a vague memory somewhere around the fifth round of shots where Luke was pretty sure Nico tried to get them to drink some water, but it was pointless when Ethan found another bottle of tequila and insisted they had to drink it before it went to waste.
And, to Luke’s drunken mind, that sounded like the most logical solution. 
He was honestly surprised the three of them had managed to wake up early enough to catch the plane back to Michigan. They had woken him up to say goodbye, muttering something about afternoon practice and other things that Luke vaguely remembered before he fell back asleep for a few hours. 
Luke was pretty sure he was still drunk when he woke up a second time to the sound of Jack blasting music in the kitchen. 
Somewhere between his annoying brother and the lingering anxiety that followed with the hangover as result of the night before, Luke found himself at a local bakery to grab some goods before he stopped over at your place, not even thinking to message you beforehand (if he even knew where his phone was). 
“But you don’t smell shit so that’s a plus,” you noted as you shut the door behind him before taking pity on his state, dragging the curtains shut again whilst Luke muttered his thanks under his breath.
“I think I bought half the bakery,” Luke admitted with a sheepish expression as he extended the bag towards you. “I asked for every cherry based thing they owned, which surprisingly isn’t much.” He paused for a moment. “Maybe I should have tried another bakery.”
You laughed, brows raised in question. “I’m surprised you can stomach anything right now.”
“Oh, I can’t,” Luke said, his nose scrunching up in disgust like the idea made him feel nauseous. It did, if he was being honest. It was bad enough he almost threw up after Jack made him chug some water. “These were…well, they were the start of an apology.”
You tilted your head to the side.
“For…abandoning you in my room after everything,” he continued, his cheeks heating up. Because apparently no matter how much he drank the night before, he remembered well enough that he was a bit of a dick with how he ran off with his friends. “It was a shitty move. And it was shitty for me to make you hide under the bed.”
“That did throw me off,” you admitted, though there was a slight teasing tilt to your voice. “Although, your bed was surprisingly clean under there. No plates growing mould or other questionable diseases.”
Luke scoffed a little. “I’m not a slob.”
You shot him a look.
“I’m not that much of a slob,” Luke corrected, grumbling under his breath before he let out a sigh. “You know, you are making this apology a lot harder than I imagined it being.”
“Probably doesn’t help that you’re hungover as fuck,” you teased, but you took the baked good from him. You peaked inside, noting just how much he had actually bought and something warm twisted in your stomach. “You really didn’t have to. It wasn’t that big of a deal, Luke.”
“But it was to me,” he murmured, a crease forming between his eyebrows. “I…I shouldn’t have done that. Like, don’t get me wrong, I love my friends. And I know they wouldn’t judge me but…”
“Hey,” you stepped forward, reaching out to gently touch him. “It’s fine, I promise. This was a part you hid from them for so long and it freaked you out. I get it.”
“I’m not embarrassed by you,” he blurted out, because apparently he has no filter or control over the words leaving his mouth. “Just in case you thought that. Because I’m not. The boys would probably love you but like—”
“You just don’t want them asking questions,” you finished for him, watching as the boy shyly nodded his head. “You don’t have to explain yourself but thank you, anyways. And thank you for the pastries.” 
“Right,” he cleared his throat, nodding a little. “Well, I–”
“Go lay down,” you said, a smile growing on your face when his shoulders slumped in relief. “I wasn’t lying when I said you looked like shit. The fact you are even awake before noon is shocking, to be honest.”
“Thank you,” he sighed in relief as he made his way towards your couch, his feet shuffling against the floor. “If I had to go back and listen to Jack blast his obnoxious playlists, I would have died.”
You snorted. “Aw, baby is facing his first, proper hangover outside of cheap college vodka.”
He pulled his sunglasses off to glare at you. “Ha. Ha. Ha.” 
“Lie down,” you prompted as you gently pushed him a step forward. “We can nap on the couch. I’ll even show you the trick to hangovers.”
He raised his brows. “It’s not gonna be some weird shit like drinking raw egg yolks, is it?” 
“I was going to offer head scratches but if you want raw eggs—”
“No!”
You grinned. “That’s what I thought.” 
The thing about playing with the team during playoffs was that, as amazing as it was, they did get knocked out and the whole thing felt fairly short-lived.
Don’t get him wrong, it was still a surreal experience. Hockey had been a constant in his life, something that always felt familiar and welcoming no matter where he was. It had felt as recognisable and comforting to him as his family was. 
But to know he had made it? To know he was skating and playing and wearing the jersey of an NHL team? 
It brought a new thrill to hockey he had never expected, but basked in, nonetheless. It added an extra layer, an extra kick that college hockey could never compete with. It made him feel like everything was worth it, that everything worked out and his dreams aligned with the stars and—fuck, he was making his debut in the National Hockey League. 
But as fast as it came, it went. 
And then summer happened. 
And he was distracted by long nights in Michigan summer heat and cool beers and boat rides that made him feel like nothing else existed beyond the lakehouse. It felt like he was just a normal guy, spending the summer break with his brothers and his friends and pretending like life was always this easy. 
It was his last thread to normalcy before his life fully changed. 
And then he was moving to Jersey, his belongings packed into boxes and cases as he moved in with Jack for the first time since his brother was drafted. He spent days being paraded around his new city, trying to feel familiar in the unfamiliar apartment, trying to bond with a team that had been together long before his arrival. 
It was confusing and exciting and baffling and scary. Every emotion a person could experience, Luke had felt tenfold since he had started preseason training. He felt like he was stumbling through a life that wasn’t his, trying to catch up and get a hold of himself. 
Then, in a blink of an eye, he was about to step out for his first official game of his rookie year in the NHL. 
And, for some stupid reason, he was far more nervous than he had been for the playoff games. 
There wasn’t a pressure on him during the playoffs, not really. People were letting mistakes slide, willing to look over things because it was his first time stepping foot onto the ice for an NHL team. He knew he technically had that luxury now too, that he was a rookie and he was allowed to use this year to find his footing.
But it was hard to remember he was a rookie when everyone and everything kept reminding him he was the third Hughes brother. He wasn’t just a normal rookie or young kid starting out their career in the big leagues. He was the third brother to try and live up to an insane standard his brothers have set, he had to prove he wasn’t a bust who only got here because of his name. 
Luke felt more than ever that he had to prove he belonged, that he deserved to have his spot and his place in the team. That he was more than just his surname and the connotations it brought.
He had to prove—
cherry🍒: break a leg or whatever they say in hockey
cherry🍒: actually wait
cherry🍒: don’t break a leg, that would be pretty shit for you
cherry🍒: feel like it would be pretty useful to skate with two unbroken legs
cherry🍒: what i am trying to say is good luck! 
And, in a silly way, he knew it was stupid. He shouldn’t need to hear someone else say something, to try and reassure him. Jack had tried a few times to prompt the conversation as game day approached. A few of the other guys had tried too. Hell, even Quinn had called him to try and give him a pep talk.
But, in the nicest way he could put it, it felt meaningless when it came from people he felt like needed to say it. 
They needed to believe in him. 
You didn’t. 
Fuck, you didn’t even know a single thing about the sport. You didn’t understand the significance of his last name in the sport. You didn’t understand just how intense the next year of his life was about to be. You didn’t understand a single thing that the other people in his life had been trying to reassure him over. 
And, for some reason that was beyond Luke’s own understanding, that was what he needed.
He needed that unwavering, unbreakable faith from someone who didn’t have to support him. You weren’t his family. You weren’t his teammate. You weren’t a fan. You had no reason to lie to him, to sugarcoat your words and fluff away his worries. You had no reason to believe in him other than the fact you just did. 
And it was what he needed.
It was what he needed minutes before the game was due to start, the clock ticking to puck drop and his eyes lingering on your messages before he had to get up and head out to the ice.
He needed you. 
They won the first game of the season. 
And then, because the person in the league who was organising the game schedule decided they wanted to try and test them this early on, they played their second game the next night. 
And they won that one too.
It was surreal, to be fucking frank. It was a kind of buzz that Luke had never experienced before, not in hockey at least. 
Winning was always great, regardless of what age or what league you were playing in. Truthfully, he didn’t think anything would beat the thrill college hockey gave him. His attachment to the boys on his team, the adrenaline of the win pumping through him as he basked in the cheering crowd. 
He thought that was his peak. He thought that was the best it would ever get. 
And then he joined the NHL. 
There was something about wearing the jersey, about knowing that they had thousands of fans watching the game. There was something about skating straight towards his big brother and feeling Jack scream in his ear as they were crowded by the other boys. There was something about knowing this had been his dream since he was a kid, to know he was now living it out. 
It was the perfect way to kick off their season—to kick off his rookie season—and Luke genuinely didn’t think he could sit down for longer than two seconds if someone asked him to. His body was bone-tired, he needed decent rest because professional hockey was no joke and his body was still not used to the jump from college hockey.
But he was buzzing. He was practically vibrating with how excited he was. He felt like he could do anything at that moment.
The locker room was buzzing with talks about how to celebrate. Most of them were tired—happy but fucking tired. The younger group wanted to head out to a bar, the older ones wanted to try to be responsible for the sake of practice in the morning. Nico was somewhere in the middle, trying to be diplomatic and find a solution that worked for everyone.
But honestly, Luke didn’t want to stand in a bar where he would either have to sneak drinks or stay sober. And he didn’t particularly want to get drunk in the first place. And he didn’t want to just head home with Jack when his body felt like it could start bouncing off the walls. 
He had this ever present, insistent buzz itching beneath his skin and he had a million and one ideas on how to scratch it. 
Truthfully, everything was a blur. He didn’t remember the post-game interviews or whatever chirps were being thrown his way in the locker room. He didn’t remember what fuck-ass excuse he gave Jack as he clambered into the backseat of an Uber. He didn’t even remember ordering the Uber in the first place. 
He just knew it led him to your doorstep, knocking on your door somewhere past eleven when he hadn’t even stopped to think if you’d be awake or not. He just knew he wanted to see you. 
It was almost a shock when the door swung open a couple of seconds after he knocked. 
“Shouldn’t you be out celebrating with your team, winner?” You teased, leaning against the door as you spoke. Though, you didn’t look all that bothered with Luke showing up this late to your place unannounced. 
But his brain was still moving a million miles an hour and he knew—somewhere amongst the chaos of his thoughts—that he should have said hello, or apologised for randomly showing up, or for banging on your door when you could have been asleep.
But the only thing he managed to blurt out was, “I want to make you come.” 
You blinked. And again. And then one more time. 
And he thought his racing heart was going to explode in his chest before you pulled the door open wider, an invitation for him to step inside as you muttered something about your nosy neighbours overhearing the whole conversation and eavesdropping. 
Luke stood aimlessly in your entrance hallway, watching as you spun to quickly close the door behind him before turning on your heel to face him. You leaned back against the door, making his chest tighten in some kind of way at the way you smiled at him.
“Feeling confident after your big win, huh?” You grinned, pulling the sleeves of your hoodie over your hands, and he couldn’t help but find the act oddly endearing. “Does this mean you’re, like, first place or something?”
Luke didn’t bother fighting the smile growing on his face. “Yeah, we basically won the whole thing. Everyone has just forfeited from the championship.” 
“You know, you joke but if it wasn’t for the fact I can see you trying not to laugh at me, I would have believed you,” you said to him before pushing off the door, taking a few steps closer to him. “You never answered my question though. Did the win make you feel more confident?” 
“Maybe,” he swallowed, his fingers itching to just reach out for you the second you were at arm’s length from him. “It’s just…you always do stuff for me. I wanna do stuff for you too. But like, it’s okay if you don’t want—”
“Don’t do that,” you interrupted.
He frowned a little.
“Don’t second guess your own confidence,” you corrected yourself as you stopped just a step or two away from him. “Be sure of yourself. It’s hot.”
“Mhm,” Luke nodded, though it didn’t sound all that self-assured. 
“Remember, just like hockey. You practice and then you play. We’ve been doing the exact same.” And weirdly enough, your words were comforting. “Have some faith in yourself, Luke.” 
“Right. Just like hockey,” he murmured, glancing at the small distance between the two of you.
“Just like hockey,” you repeated with a small nod.
And, just like hockey, Luke let himself act before he over thought his actions too much. Hockey was about acting fast and thinking later. It was about acting on your instincts and trusting your teammate would be on the other side of the puck. It was about letting every move, every hit, every shot to be nothing but one hundred percent. It was about taking the chance before it was gone.
Luke took a step forward, closing the distance between you two as his hands reached to cup your face before he kissed you. You let out a noise of surprise that sounded from the back of your throat before you sunk into it, letting your hands rest against his stomach as he took control.
It was intoxicating, in a way you had never experienced with Luke before. Most of the time, he was happy to let you take control. He got this cute but hopeless look on his face when he didn’t know where to put his hands. He was happy to just sit back and let you tell him exactly just how you wanted to be touched, kissed, held. 
But this was different. It was overwhelming. It was suffocating in the best way possible. Feeling his body tower over you, feeling his large palms holding you just where he wanted you as his tongue slid into your mouth. Feeling the way Luke acted when he didn’t think, when he didn’t get in his own head, when he just let his body act the way it wanted to. 
You barely had a chance to catch your breath before his hands dropped from your face, fingers wrapping around your thighs with a stuttered ‘jump’ whispered against your lips before he lifted you with the ease only a professional athlete could achieve.
He barely pulled away as he walked deeper into your apartment, the layout practically memorised in his head considering the fact he spent just as much time here as he did in his own apartment. His arms were locked on you, not letting you slip a bit as he wandered into your bedroom, laying you down on the bed with a gentleness that made your stomach dip. 
“Show off,” you murmured as you glanced up at him, lip tucked between your teeth as your fingers brushed against the hem of his shirt.
He lazily grinned down at you. “I can be impressive sometimes.” 
“Yeah?” Your lips twitched upwards as you shuffled back until you were sat further up the bed. You reached for the hem of your hoodie, pulling it over your head and tossing the clothing off to the side. “Come show me how impressive you can be, Hughes.” 
He swallowed, eyes darting over your figure before he slowly began making his way onto the bed. “You’re sure?” 
“You were the one who came knocking on my door, saying you wanted to make me come,” you teased. 
“Yeah but,” Luke paused for a second as his gaze caught yours. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to do it because I want to.” He flashed you an awkward but sweet smile. “Consent is sexy, you know?” 
You snorted, but you grinned back at him. “You have my consent to make me come, Luke.”
“Uh,” he cleared his throat. “I just…I want you to enjoy it but I don’t…”
“Breathe,” you murmured in a softer voice, reaching up to gently squeeze his cheeks to catch his attention. “I’m still here, you’re not doing this alone. Just like hockey, remember? Think of me as your teammate.”
His face instantly scrunched up. “I really don’t want to be thinking about any of my teammates right now.”
You snorted, despite yourself. 
“Yeah, okay, maybe not my finest choice of words. What I’m trying to say is that you’re not doing this alone. Sex is a ‘two way street’, ‘it takes two to tango’ kinda thing, Luke,” you spoke as you reached down to guide his hands to the waistband of your leggings. “We’re doing this together.” 
“Together,” he murmured with a nod.
“Just like hockey,” you said to him again, seeing a hint of his earlier confidence shine in his eyes as his fingers hooked the waistband of your leggings before pulling them down your legs. 
He tugged them over your feet before throwing them off to the side, where your hoodie still laid. He didn’t even hesitate before he ripped his own shirt off over his head, in some weird mixed statement so you weren’t the only one who was half-naked—and because he felt his whole body running far warmer than he thought was normal. 
“Foreplay is important. It’s like warm-ups, it’s necessary and preferred and makes the game easier, as well as more enjoyable,” you said, your voice a little lower than before as you gently guided one of his hands from your waist downwards. “It makes her feel good. It makes you feel good. It’s sexy.” 
“Sexy,” he noted with a nod, though his eyes were transfixed on you. 
Luke gulped a little as his fingers rested along the elastic waistband of your panties. His heart was racing in his chest and blood was roaring in his ears and it was a little hard to focus on the words you were saying when his dick was twitching in his sweatpants.
“Just gotta know where to touch her,” you whispered, lip tucked between your teeth as your fingers lightly skimmed over your clothed cunt. You choked out a gasp as you pressed a slow, deliberate circle over your clit. 
He didn’t think even a meteor crashing into your bedroom could make him tear his eyes away from you right now.
“Try.”
Luke’s brows raised a little as you stared at him expectantly. 
“C’mon, winner,” your lips twitched upwards. “Just like hockey.”
Just like hockey.
Luke slowly ran his hand over your waist, feeling the cotton fabric of your panties under his touch. He kept his eyes locked on your cunt, trying to ignore the way his hand was shaking as he ran his fingers along the fabric. 
A soft sigh left your lips and his eyes snapped up to look at your face, to watch your expressions closely to see what you reacted to. His thumb pressed down experimentally and your nose twitched a little.
“A little higher.”
He listened. 
“Firm but gentle.”
He listened.
“Fuck, just like that, Luke.” 
He listened.
“A little faster.” 
Luke listened. 
He listened as you guided him. He listened until there was a small wet spot on the front of your panties. He listened until you were panting and telling him to pull them down your legs. He listened as he gently glided his fingers between your folds, watching with dark eyes as his fingers glinted with your release. 
“I get it,” he muttered out at some point, his thumb pressing down on your swollen clit as your hips bucked up against his touch. “The noises. Why you like them.” He gulped a little as his eyes glanced up at you. “You sound pretty when you’re moaning, Cherry.”
“Shit,” your eyes fluttered shut as you reached down to grip his wrist. “Just…fuck, I need to feel you inside me.”
His cheeks burned hot. 
“Just,” you panted, chewing down on your bottom lip until it was red and a little swollen. “Slow, okay?”
He gulped. “You sure?” 
You huffed out a laugh. “You wanna make me come?”
He nodded.
“Then yeah, I’m sure,” you murmured, brows furrowed together as you felt him glide his fingers through your folds until they were completely covered. 
And, if Luke was being so completely honest, he could have come in his pants from the sight alone. It was like at the last possible moment, his brain remembered to look up as he slowly slide one finger inside you and, fuck, he was glad he did.
He felt entranced. He felt mesmerised. He felt like he was stuck in some sort of hypnosis and he couldn’t look away. 
He wanted to burn this moment in his memory so he could never, never forget it. He wanted to memorise the way your eyes fluttered shut. He wanted to memorise the way you felt squeezing around him, like you didn’t want him to ever leave. He wanted to memorise the way your lips parted with a silent scream as he slid another finger inside you, as he curled his fingers, as you bucked your hips. 
He wanted to remember every single fucking moment until the day he died.
“A little faster,” you breathed out, your head thrown back on your pillow as he followed your instructions. “Shit, yes. Like that. Fuck.”
“Good?” Luke murmured, his whole body feeling like it was on fire and his dick straining against his boxers but, fuck, he couldn’t care less when his attention was on you.
“Good,” you confirmed with a nod as one hand gripped the sheets, the other reaching down to give your clit some attention. “So good, Luke.” 
Something in his stomach flipped at your words. 
If someone asked Luke Hughes how the last forty-eight hours of his life had been, he would tell them it had been fucking amazing. 
And if they asked him what the best moment was, he should probably answer that he has too many to choose from. That maybe it was the fact he officially started his rookie year in the National Hockey League. That maybe it was the fact he won not one, but two NHL games. That maybe it was the fact they won them one after the other. That maybe it was the fact he did all of the above whilst sharing the ice with his big brother.
But, in all fucking honesty, Luke would have chosen this moment. 
He would have chosen the sight of you writhing and squirming beneath him. He would have chosen the sight of you panting and moaning and begging. He would have chosen the sight of you coming on his fingers, your back arching off the bed and his name a whimper on your lips. He would have chosen the sleepy smile you gave him as your body twitched as he pulled his fingers out, already missing the feeling of you clenched around him. He would have chosen the look of pure lust and desire in your eyes as you watched him slide his fingers in his mouth, his body moving before his brain caught up as he sucked the taste of you off his fingers. 
He would have chosen this moment. And maybe that realisation would be a lot more alarming and head-spinning in a couple of hours, but right now it was a passing thought before he slumped down on the bed next to you.
“Luke?” 
“Hm?” 
“You’re a good student,” you murmured, feeling a smile on your lips as he let out a small huff of laughter. “A little more practice and I think you could have a good business going for you if the hockey thing doesn’t work out.”
He shook his head. “I think my skating skills are still better than my sex skills, but the confidence you have in me is appreciated.”
“Hm, true,” you said as you nudged his arm, lifting it up before you curled into his side. Luke didn’t say anything but wrap his arm around you to pull you closer. “You do skate very fast.” 
“Those two videos really told you everything you needed to know, huh?” He teased, his words light-hearted and joking and warm. 
“No, the games you just played told me that,” you corrected.
Luke froze, his mind replaying the words in his head like he wasn’t sure he heard you right the first time. “You watched my games?”
“Yeah,” you answered like it was obvious. “You said they were the start of the important ones, the ones that counted. I mean, I didn’t understand half of it and I spent a significant amount confused but,” you paused to shrug. “I wanted to support you.”
His chest tightened and it was a little harder to breathe, but he didn’t really want to let you go just yet.
“You didn’t have to,” he eventually choked out.
“I wanted to,” you answered before continuing. “Who knows, maybe I’m your good luck charm.” 
He knew you were joking. He could hear as much in your voice. But it still made his heart clench a little at the thought.
“Guess you gotta watch every game then.” 
“Guess you gotta teach me the game so I understand it then.” 
His arm tightened around you, his face burned red and his heart skipped a beat or two. But he still managed to mutter out, “Deal, Cherry.”
.
905 notes · View notes
moonstruckme · 1 month
Note
hi mum can we get more dr rem PLEASE :3
Always pookie <3
cw: implicit nausea and vomit, no description
doctor!Remus x fem!reader ♡ 1.3k words
Remus picks up on the third ring. “Hello?” 
The sound of his voice makes you smile even in your sorry state. “Hi, Remus.” 
“Hi.” Something softens in his tone; you like to think he’s smiling too. “I’m not late to pick you up, am I? I’ve only just got home from work.” 
“No, so did I.” You lean your forehead on the cool ceramic of your toilet tank, thanking your past self for having cleaned it just yesterday. “I actually…I’m sorry, I think I’m going to need a raincheck.” 
A pause. “Oh.” You wince at the disappointment in his voice. “That’s too bad. Is everything alright?” 
“Yeah, I think I’ve just caught a bug,” you say. “I’m afraid I wouldn’t be much fun.” 
“You’re always fun,” Remus replies warmly, and you smile. “Are you not feeling well?” 
“Not great,” you hedge. You’ve been dating Remus long enough to know how he worries, and you don’t want that. “I’ll live, though. Maybe we can meet later in the week?” 
“Or,” he says, low and coaxing, “I could come over now and make you some soup.” 
You almost sigh, it sounds so nice. What you wouldn��t give to have him rub your back, carry you to bed and press a kiss to your brow. But you’re a mess right now, and you’re trying to save him from it. 
“I don’t think that’d be a good idea,” you say reluctantly. “Anyway, it’s not that kind of sick.” 
“Tell me your symptoms.”
“Ew,” you laugh. “Take me to dinner first, Lupin.”
“Well, I did try,” he says, and you can almost hear his smile through the phone. It catches just as easily as it does in person. “Seriously, love, how do you feel? Do you know what it is?” 
“Not necessarily, but it’s really not bad. I just don’t want to infect you.” 
“I could probably help.”
“But when you got sick I’d feel awful,” you tell him sincerely. “Thank you, but really, don’t worry about it. I’ll give you a ring when I’m no longer a biohazard, okay?” 
Remus harrumphs, but when he speaks his voice still crackles with fondness. “Alright.” 
“Thanks. Bye.” 
You hear him echo you as you lower the phone from your ear, setting it on the bathroom floor before following it down. You don’t feel secure enough in your stomach to leave the toilet just yet, so you curl up on the small mat by the shower and succumb to the exhaustion that’s been chasing you since lunchtime. 
~~~
“Oh, sweetheart.” 
You wake to a warm hand on your even warmer shoulder, startling a bit as you pull your face from the rug. Remus is looking down at you with an awful little crease between his brows. 
“Remus?” you ask, just to be sure. 
“Hi,” he says softly. “You didn’t sound this bad over the phone, you know. I’d have rushed if I knew you were about to take a nap on the floor.” 
You blink, trying to clear the fog from your brain. “How’d you get in here?” 
“You showed me the spare key when I took care of your plants, remember?” Remus looks a bit sorry, wedging a hand underneath your ribs to encourage you sitting up. “I did try to call, but I think you must have slept through it.” 
“Oh,” you murmur, getting upright and crossing your legs underneath you awkwardly.
He smiles thinly and sets a hand to your forehead. The gesture feels oddly intimate. You’ve slept with this man, met his friends, shown him where you keep your spare key, and somehow this feels intimate.
Remus makes a terribly lovely cooing sound. You think you might just die right here. 
“You’re burning,” he says worriedly. “How long have you been feeling like this?” 
“Since about lunch,” you admit. 
“Yeah?” He frowns, cupping your face in the basin of his palm. “How’d you fare at work?” 
“I got sick in the bathroom, but then I just finished out the day.” Remus’ frown is starting to look mortifyingly near to a pout. “It wasn’t this bad then, I don’t think. It got worse once I was home.” 
He hums. “Do you know how you caught it?” 
You glance at the toilet, horrified at the sight of your unflushed sick inside. “Some of my coworkers went home sick, but…look, Remus, it was really nice of you to come, but you don’t have to be here.” You say this with your cheek tucked into his palm, soaking up the feeling of his touch. “It’s way too early for you to see me like this.” 
“Oh?” One corner of his mouth twitches, but he keeps his expression curious. “Why’s that?” 
“Because…because.” You try to imbue your tone with some sternness. “It’s the standard progression of things. Peeing together, saying I love you, then you see me when I’m sick.” 
Remus nods, humming pensively. His thumb strokes at your cheek. “You want to pee together before saying I love you? That’s interesting.” 
You feel your face heat, which you didn’t know was even possible at this point. You thought surely you’d maxed out. “I’m serious.” 
“Alright,” he says. Soft, pacifying. “All that notwithstanding, I’m afraid I can’t leave you like this, lovely girl. I’ll avert my eyes if you want me to, but I’m really not too worried about seeing you any way you can be, so I think it might be easier on you if you didn’t worry about it either.” 
You wither. “But I’m gross.” 
He frowns. “You’re not. You’re just not feeling your best right now, and that’s fine. Let me take care of you.” 
You look at him for a few moments, and Remus looks back. His amber stare is steady. Finally, you give in to your more pathetic urges and nod. 
“Alright.” He gives your cheek another tender stroke. “Do you feel like you’re going to be sick again now?” 
“No,” you say meekly. It feels weird to discuss these things with him, but Remus acts like it’s the most normal thing in the world. 
“Perfect. Think you can make it to bed?” 
You definitely can, but Remus still walks you the whole way, one arm around your waist and his attention cautiously on your feet should you stumble. He gets you situated under the covers, forbidding more than one blanket until your fever comes down, and goes back into the bathroom to get the supplies he’d brought with him. 
You hear the toilet flush and cringe, but he comes back out like nothing happened. 
“I wasn’t sure what to bring since you wouldn't tell me what you had on the phone,” there’s a bit of light admonishment to his tone as he sits on the edge of your mattress with a paper bag, “so I brought most of my medicine cabinet. Do you want some anti-nausea, or are you still alright for now?” 
“Yes, please,” you say in a small voice. Remus passes you a cup of water before shaking a pill into his hand. He watches as you take it. 
“You’re going to want to keep taking small sips of that,” he tells you. “It sounds like you’re right and it’s just a stomach bug, so we’ll probably keep you off solid foods for a little while. You just let me know when you’re feeling up to some crackers or something, okay?” 
“Okay,” you echo him. Your heart suddenly feels as warm and tender as if your fever were affecting it, too. You’re enamored with the idea that you could go to sleep, right now, and Remus would still be here to take care of you when you wake up. He’d probably hold your hand if you asked, or read you something, or just sit with you if that was what you wanted. It makes you feel pathetically teary to think of being so cared for. 
Something shifts in Remus’ expression. He looks at you more closely, pushing a piece of hair away from your face. 
“Everything alright, sweetheart?” he asks. 
“Yeah.” You swallow. “Just, thanks for coming.”
Remus smiles. “Changing our minds about the standard progression of things, are we?” But before you get a chance to hide under your covers and never come out, he leans forward, kissing your cheek. “Don’t mention it.”
595 notes · View notes
lueurjun · 6 months
Text
slytherin boyfriend sunghoon
request: Hi, Can i request a Slytherin Sunghoon x a Ravenclaw reader? Thankss <3 — you certainly can. hope this is alright for you my love. you didn’t specify a trope so i just improvised, i hope that’s okay<3 slytherin bf!sunghoon x ravenclaw!reader. @vickys-witchylife
ps. i apologize for how long this is… i got carried away- no but really this is really long like i didn’t intend on this but it just happened 💀
everybody pause because this makes so much sense
like sunghoon gives off major slytherin vibes
remember his blonde hair? draco malfoy could neverrr
and could you imagine him decked out in green and silver?
lord have mercy im about to faint
anyways before we get into the whole you guys love each other, cutesey vibes
let’s start with how it all came to be
how my man sunghoon managed to pulled YOU
yeah he’s fine but i have 3 galleons in the bank so #rollinindough #icanbeabetterboyfriendthanhim
now we’re not gonna go down the route of ‘all slytherins are bad’ because they’re absolutely not
but sunghoon wasn’t exactly the warmest at first
bro is not 🙅‍♀️ the sun
not in the sense that he bullied you or anything
me and the homies would jump him if he did… the homies being my demons 👹
he just didn’t see the point in befriending you because naturally the two of you were so different
you were just the ravenclaw smarty he was forced to do his prefect duties with
ravenclaw smarty 🤓 my delulu self would be flattered because to me that’s a nickname- you’re half way to marriage already
ah yes you read that right
prefect duties
more specifically: hallway patrol
paw patrol, paw patrol, we’ll be there on the double 💃
so the two of you spent the majority of your evenings together
being a prefect wasn’t a huge deal to sunghoon, it was just another gateway to his parents approval
not him thinking he’s too cool 😎
but you took your role very seriously and that was something that annoyed him about you
because you never allowed him to slack off
him slacking off could get you both in trouble and you weren’t going to let him take you down with him and potentially jeopardise your chance of snatching up the head ( whatever you identify as bae ) position
just because he didn’t want to be head boy didn’t mean you didn’t desire the position
needless to say it was a little frosty between the two of you at first
aimless bickering would echo off the walls as you demanded he stay on task and not stray off to go cause mayhem with his friends
personally i would take on all of his duties just so he could have fun- DON’T look at me like that, you’d be a pick me for him too smh
he wasn’t just put off by the fact that you ruined his fun and actually made him do his job
you’re a ravenclaw, one of the smartest people in your year and naturally, he assumed you wouldn’t want to be friends with someone like him
not bro having a victim complex
but that wasn’t the case at all
you weren’t one to judge, you didn’t care about houses, the only thing that mattered to you was principles
in fact, you were actually looking forward to befriending sunghoon at first
he just pushed you away all too soon and started acting like a rebellious idiot for the sake of his ego
what an idiot
things remained at a stalemate for several weeks
you’d both show up for your perfect duties, he would try to slack off or cause trouble, and you would scold him until the two of you walked side by side in silence
him sulking and you scowling
then, he’d stomp back to his dorm and talk crap about you to his friends
and you’d go to your own friends and express disappointment in the lack of progress made with him
don’t worry bae, you don’t need him. come put your head on my shoulder, mines comfier than his 🤭
things didn’t take a turn until a week before the winter holidays
one evening, sunghoon was over an hour late for prefect duties
you tried not to worry because why should you care? Without him, things would probably be much easier
but alas, something niggled inside of your heart and you found yourself abandoning your responsibilities to find him
you searched high and low, but to no avail. sunghoon was absolutely nowhere to be found
hide and seek in hogwarts is wild
eventually, you headed down to the slytherin common room—perhaps he hadn’t even left his dorm
but when you arrived, a crowd of people stood outside of the door whispering rather loudly
“how do we get him out of there?”
“i don’t know but he can’t afford to step another toe out of line, you heard his dad. one more detention and he’s being yanked out of the school.”
as you cautiously peered around the corner, your eyes settle on a distinctive group you recognize all too well — sunghoon's friends
they remained oblivious to your presence until you muster up your courage and break away from the shadows, facing them head-on
“where’s sunghoon?”
that’s right, you show ‘em who’s boss! hellos and how are yous? never heard of them 💅
“what’s it to you?”
jay fixed his gaze on you, analyzing you with careful scrutiny
“he hasn’t shown up for prefect duties.”
you square your shoulders and cross your arms, exuding an air of forced confidence
not that you were scared, they were hardly anything to fear. it was more the embarrassment of admitting that you were concerned for the safety of sunghoon
‘hardly anything to fear’ NOT YOU VIOLATING UNPROVOKED
lord knows that if it was you who hadn’t turned up, sunghoon would have most definitely thrown a party
this time, heeseung breaks the silence with a deep and weary sigh
“look if you’re here to get him into trouble—“
“who said i wanted to get him into trouble?”
“well—no one but he’s told us all about how you’re on his ass about following the rules. it’s not far fetched to believe that you’d use this as a chance to finally get him out of your hair.”
so he talks about you??? 🤭🤭
you try not to let that hurt your feelings
but it does a little because is that what they really think? is that what sunghoon thinks? that you just want him far away from you?
“look, i don’t want to get him into trouble. if anything i’m ‘on his ass’ to save it from getting kicked off the prefects. i even abandoned my own responsibilities to make sure he was okay, so can you just tell me where he is?”
the group of wizards looked perplexed for a moment, their eyes darting to each other with specific expressions before falling back onto you
and after a silent debate, sunoo spoke up
“he snuck into snape’s office to try and get back jungwon’s special quill. it was a gift from his grandmother, it’s got an unlimited ink charm on it. snape accused him of trying to cheat and confiscated it.”
jake continued next, looking desperate:
“it means a lot to jungwon, so sunghoon snuck in to try and get it but snape entered and now he’s stuck in there. we don’t even know if he’s been caught but he’s in a lot of trouble if he is.”
you eyes land on jungwon, who looks at the ground shamefully
me to snape rn 🤺
the expression on his face caused your heart to ache, but the thought of sunghoon getting into trouble had an even stronger grip on your heartstrings
i sense a crushhhhh 🤭🥰
which is how you find yourself outside of potions classroom, after instructing the boys to stay where they are, you formulate a plan
with your heart racing and your body filled with trepidations, you hurriedly entered the classroom, only to find sunghoon missing and snape seated at his desk
“sir-sir! i was on night duty when a slytherin and hufflepuff got into an altercation. they started hexing each other and i didn’t know how to stop—“
snape was already to his feet, the long black cloak sweeping against the ground as he hurried out of the room to find the ‘altercation’
“feel free to make a run for it!”
you call out, keeping your voice low in hopes that sunghoon can hear you from wherever he’s hiding
and then you follow after snape, leading him aimlessly around until you’re sure sunghoon could have escaped
oh you perfect mastermind you 🤭
“where’s the altercation?”
snape speaks with a snide drawl, his penetrating gaze fixed on you as impatience radiates from his every word
“they must have dispersed. very sorry to bother you, professor.”
you: 😬 snape: 😒
snape snarls, glancing around the dark and empty corridor one last time before turning around to make the gruelling walk back to his classroom to finish his evening work
once he’s out of sight, your shoulders slump in relief and you can only hope that sunghoon had gotten out okay
and you find out the very next evening, when he meets you for the night shift
you’re waiting for him anxiously, when he rounds the corner with such haste that it startles you
he doesn’t slow down until he’s right in front of you, gripping your shoulders
“i know i haven’t been the nicest to you, but what you did for me last night… i can’t thank you enough”
calm down bae they saved you from detention not a burning building 🙄 ( i’m bitter. you should be mine )
prefect duties for the next few days are a lot smoother now the two of you are actually getting along
the silence is replaced with genuine facts about yourselves, or you telling him things you had read and found interesting
every now and then, your fingertips meet in an unbidden caress, but neither of you pull away; instead, both of you savouring the warmth of the moment
it’s giving awkward crushes
finally, winter break approaches and sunghoon meets you on the platform
“i’ll write to you.”
you’re kinda surprised at that, but you beam up at him anyways
“i’ll write back.”
and you do, the two of you write back and forth for the entire of winter
friendly letters turning into awkwardly cute confessions that neither of you are brave enough to say in person
that’s actually adorable shut upppp
by the time term starts up again, the letters have transformed everything between the two of you
you’re no longer ‘just prefect buddies’, nor are you friends… but something more
sunghoon’s last letter highlighted that for you
‘i’ve never been the best with words, especially not in person. i find it much easier to hide behind a piece of parchment and confess that i’ve always found you rather endearing…perhaps when we return to school we could explore the spark between us?… man that was cringe, sorry.’
and explore you do
awkward hand brushes on prefect duty turns into gentle hand holding with matching rouge cheeks
if you see me on the road tonight, mind your business
sunghoon pushing your head away affectionately when you peer over his shoulder at the book he’s reading to pass time
the two of you avoiding your friends at all costs because they all do that annoying thing where they wiggle their eyebrows and make hearts with their hands
horrible flirting attempts
“you have really nice earlobes.”
“thanks? i like your knees…”
“thanks.”
me tryna flirt ^
you still have to stop him from slacking off, but you’re less irritated by it and more amused
because everything sunghoon does amuses you
you’re all surprised at how loud he can be
he always seemed quite reserved, like the normal one in his friend group but you come to realize that he’s just as mental—if not worse than most of them
and your first kiss is just so… you guys
sunghoon had tried to kiss you three times and every single time, you accidentally moved away
the embarrassment- i cannot 💀
it finally happened on the fourth time
the two of you had just finished up for the evening, and sunghoon insisted on walking you back to your common room
things weren’t verbally official yet, but it was an unspoken agreement that you were basically together
you paused at the door, ready to turn and bid your farewells when you were suddenly met with his face mere inches away
taken aback, your immediate reaction was to...
headbut him
even the portraits were absolutely mortified because that could not have gone worse
me and the portraits rn: 🫣
sunghoon recoiled, hand reflexively covering his face in shock. you couldn't help but gasp in surprise, one hand instinctively flying to your mouth
“oh my gosh—i’m so sorry. are you okay?”
his ego wasn’t the only thing bruised, now his head too
“yep. fine. don’t worry about me, though a simple ‘please back away’ would have sufficed”
“i didn’t realize you were going to kiss me! i’m so sorry, sunghoon…”
it takes several moments for everyone to recover
but eventually, the portraits stop hiding behind their hands and sunghoon can finally face you again
the way this would keep me up at night
“i’m really sorry…”
“no it’s totally fine. i should have asked permission first.”
you nervously clasped your hands together in front of you, your gaze drawn to the tender spot on his head where a bruise was already beginning to form
the guilt consumes you and you don’t know how else to make up for it
“i mean…you do have my permission now, if you still want to kiss me that is”
sunghoon looks unsure at first but takes an attentive step towards you
he hesitantly rests his quivering fingers against your delicate jawline, one thumb tenderly pressed against your rosy cheek whilst the other gently wraps around your hand
sunghoon leaned in until he was but a whisper away from your lips, his gentle breath grazing your face and making you close your eyes in anticipation
“you’re not gonna like punch me are yo—“
overcome with impatience, you closed the gap between you and sunghoon, capturing him in a timeless kiss.
those damn portraits are whistling, causing the two of you to pull away shyly
“well go on, make it official.”
“didn’t you see that kiss? that sealed the deal! i would’ve swooned had they not given the poor boy a concussion first.”
“personally i think they should’ve ended up with lueurjun” oh would you look at that! the portraits hey ship us too 😌
this is so long but anyways onto the actual relationship vibes
you have a habit of fixing sunghoon’s tie and robe whenever you see him
and he responds by fixing your hair for you
don’t ask why but sunghoon gives off ear scratches vibes like i just feel like he would like them
so you scratch behind his ear lot and he relishes in it
once the two of you get more comfortable with each other, he sees how unhinged you actually are
and he loves it
biting his lip during makeout sessions
now that is scandalous 🤭
his parents adore you because you keep him on track
you tying his laces because he’s prone to just letting them hang loose and almost tripping himself up
sunghoon getting cuteness aggression over your existence and just having to squeeze your cheeks
bickering like there’s no tomorrow
“i didn’t say i hate you, you just annoy me”
“next time, i’ll let you rot in snape’s office”
harmless shoving of each other
though it wasn’t harmless once ‘cause sunghoon miscalculated his strength and accidentally shoved you into a random classroom
this happened to me once but it wasn’t romantic-
he then ran off and left you to deal with the awkward conversation with your professor
you being more lenient and sneaking down to the kitchens 15 minutes before your duties end to feed each other snacks
which then turns into a mini food fight
drinking each others drinks when you go to the three broomsticks
like you both have your own drinks but end up drinking each others
listen that probably didn’t make sense, i’ve been writing this for days AND IM EXHAUSTED
you helping him study
studying usually ends in makeout sessions in the library
you putting little notes in his books to remind him that you’re thinking of him
and him drawing a penis on yours
he’s so real for that
overall, the two of you are a pair of awkward cuties who can’t get enough of each other and i love it so much
even tho you should be with me but i’ll allow it 🙄
712 notes · View notes
reidsdaisies · 6 months
Note
hihihi !! i saw that you wanted requests and i will happily oblige 😭 i was wondering if you could do a like grumpy spencer reid x sunshine/bombshell reader !! i love the whole opposites attract trope. maybe its where like hes having a bad day and just kinda wants to go home but reader turns that frown upside down and flirts w him n stuff !!
𝐁𝐚𝐛𝐲
༉‧´ˎ˗ pairing; grumpy!spencer reid x sunshine/bombshell!reader
༉‧´ˎ˗ warnings; maeve doesn’t exist bc this is like right around the beginning of season 8 I’d say, slightly handsy reader ig?, use of pet names ‘baby’, ‘sweetie’, ‘hon’, mention of the one ‘sugar pie’, also I don’t think spencer would growl but i thought it was kinda funny and random. also he’d probably not not want to do a guest lecture but just imagine he’d had a rough week or something and that’s why he’s reluctant to go.
༉‧´ˎ˗ wc; 0.6k
༉‧´ˎ˗ a/n; i also love opposites attract but im not the best at writing it, so this one is like subtle ig and so reader is more of a flirt than a bombshell. but if you or anyone else has a diff request for bombshell!reader pleasepleaseplease send it in bc I’d love to try again and make her an actual bombshell lolz
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𝐂𝐌 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 || 𝐌𝐀𝐈𝐍 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓
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The day was already off to a bad start. You could tell from Spencer’s body language and whole demeanor that he just wasn’t having it.
Today, Spencer is supposed to be giving a guest lecture to Alex Blake’s class. So, here you stand outside the classroom, 10 minutes before he’s supposed to go in and prepare, pulling at his arm uselessly.
He’s planted himself to a bench in the empty hallway, head in his hands, hiding his face from you.
“C’mon, Spence, it’s just 30 minutes, a 1 and done thing.” You squat down in front of him at eye level, though it’s slightly uncomfortable even in your most casual heels. You’re currently trying to convince him that it really isn’t that bad, and that he’ll feel more relaxed once he’s gotten into the flow of things.
“It’s not like you’ve never done this before,” sighing, you give up trying to make him look at you and instead sit down besides him, your hand reaching over to rest on his left shoulder. “Didn’t you do something similar with Rossi a couple years ago? And you’re good friends with Blake, so this should be a piece of cake.”
“You say that, but you’ve never even had to think about doing something like this. It’s nerve wracking.” He mumbles into his hands, shaking his head.
When he finally pulls his head away, he’s pouting, giving you an annoyed stare. He shrugs your hand off him, hunching in on himself.
“Sweetie,” you start, taking a deep breath and choosing your next words, “remember the first time this happened? One second you were all frustrated— I mean like at one point I think you even growled at me— then the next you were fine. What did the trick that time?”
He scoffs at the mention of him growling, but he does stop to think about it. You can see him mentally searching for that last time, replaying the events of that afternoon.
He licks his lips in contemplation, opening his mouth before closing it. Taking another glance in your direction, he gives you a quick once over. “I-.. well, you..? I guess.”
“Well, what did I do, hon?”
“Uhm, I don’t know..” Of course you already know he remembers, there’s very few, if any, things he doesn’t, he’s just having a hard time saying it outright.
“C’mon baby, I know you know.”
Even after multiple months of dating you, he’s still getting used to all the nicknames you call him. You’ve called him things such as ‘baby’, and ‘sugar pie’, more times than you’ve called him by his actual name. He knows this for a fact. He counted.
Biting the inside of his cheek, he glances down with a soft smile on his face. “Stuff like that, like calling me ‘baby’ and whatnot. Flirting with me.”
“Aw, look at you smiling,” you tease, gently prodding his shoulder, “I knew deep down, as much as you try to deny, you actually enjoy my flirtatiousness.”
“Hush,” he rolls his eyes playfully, looking up at the ceiling.
“Well then, ‘baby’, what’s it gonna take this time, hm? Maybe a bit more of my flirtatious charm could ease those nerves.”
You wink at him jokingly, eliciting a chuckle from the man beside you.
After a few seconds, you push him to stand, about ready to shove him towards the door as well. “But in all seriousness, you better get your ass in there or I will tell Blake and all your other colleagues about the growling.”
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710 notes · View notes
jihyoruri · 5 months
Text
❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ 𓍢 SANTA DOESN’T KNOW YOU LIKE I DO idol ahn yujin x idol reader
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❆warnings: yn is apart of new jeans, yn is a dork, wrote this while listening to santa doesn’t know you like I do by sabrina carpenter
this has got to be the fifth time yujin has bawled her eyes out all day. going through a big break up during the holiday season isn’t the ideal thing
the girl blew her nose into her tissue before she buried her face into her pillow, she’s about to start crying again until a soft voice interrupts her session of wallowing in self pity.
“yujin unnie?”
she knew exactly who’s voice it was.
to ahn yujin, yn was a nightmare, having one of your younger members best friends have a crush on you, isn’t the ideal thing for most people.
and it definitely isn’t the ideal thing for yujin.
new jeans is the new big thing, the six girls are completely untouchable with the success that they’ve been gaining since debut, so imagine the ive members reactions when rei brought one of the members to the dorm introducing the girl as her best friend.
yn was one of the most known members of the group, she was known for her charisma and talents and extroverted personality that has a way of wrapping everyone around her small finger
she also has the biggest crush on the leader of ive and the bane of yujin’s existence.
she just couldn’t stop taking her shots at the older girl, even when she was in a relationship, she’d say things like “hey unnie, when are gonna dump that chick?”, “rei told me that she was late again, couldn’t be me..”, “did you know I wrote super shy and attention about you? what songs has she written about you again?”
yujin groans and covers her face with her hands, “what?”
the door opens to reveal the younger girl with an adorable smile on her face, she had a white fuzzy beret on her head with a matching fuzzy white sweater and leg warmers, along with a hello kitty shaped polaroid around her neck.
“did you know it’s snowing outside?” yn asks as she walks into the room and closes the door behind her causing yujin to groan again.
“no.”
“oh, well it is.” she says before sitting beside yujin on her bed, “I heard about the break up…”
“yeah…” the older girl replies, “you’re probably happy about it.” she says before taking a peek at the younger girl only to see that she had genuine pity on her face.
“well… I can’t say I didn’t crack a smile when rei told me…” she says causing yujin to let out a laugh, “you’re the worst oh my-”
“but!” yn shouts over yujin waving her hands, “I am really sorry, I knew how much you liked her, even though she was hot trash.”
“gee, thanks yn.”yujin sniffs rubbing her nose. “she wasn’t that bad…” she adds making it yn’s turn to groan.
“oh come on!” the girl yells, throwing her head back, “she was the absolute worst, remember when she said ditto wasn’t even good when my members and I literally put our heart and souls into that comeback?”
“she also treated you horribly and you know that, I mean just look at the way she just left you.” yn says firmly causing yujin to nod her head defeatedly, “ I just know for sure that I could treat you better.”
“here we go again.” yujin says rolling her eyes, every time…
“no! I’m serious, she didn’t and never grew to know you like I do.” yn says grabbing yujin’s hand, “I know all your favourite songs… and even though I say the most stupid shit I definitely know how to make you laugh.” the younger girl adds causing yujin to let out a small laugh.
“see! when was the last time she genuinely made you laugh?”
“I don’t know…” yujin trails off and before she knows it, the tears are starting back up again, “gosh, I’m so stupid.”
yn immediately panics and pulls yujin closer to her, “no, you’re not! you’re the smartest, you’re hard working, dedicated and so talented and prettiest person I know, that asshole was just to stupid to see it.”
yujin looks deep into yn’s eyes and feels her face heat up slightly at the compliment, this is the first time the younger girls words have actually affected her and for some reason that makes her eyes water again.
“oh, how I wish I would kiss your tears away.” yn says before slapping her hand over mouth in shock, “there’s no way I just said that.”
yujin laughs again and wipes her eyes with the back of her hand, “maybe you can do that after the fifth date.”
“yeah…” yn trails of her face heated with embarrassment, “wait- what did you just say.”
“you heard me.”
“holy shit…” the younger girl says to herself, “wait does that mean there’s chance that you might go out with me after you’re healed from your relationship and stuff?”
“maybe” yujin shrugs.
“oh my gosh.” she says getting up from yujin’s bed, “oh my-! I gotta go tell rei!” she says before rushing out of yujin’s room.
yujin laughs at the younger girls antics but is shock when yn runs back into the room and places a kiss on the older girls cheek before running back out the room.
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chuunai · 4 months
Note
I had an idea for the 100 followers thingy- so like the babies thing but you’re a single mother (maybe teen mom?) and dazai (pm) falls in love with you and your baby :} ps- I LOVE YOU TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF SUGAR 💗‼️‼️‼️
I’m trying I swear TvT
✧˚ · . you’re a virgin and I’m just a meth head - pm! dazai osamu
the new hire at the port mafia interests him. the baby, too.
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summary ⋆ ★ comfort, fluff with a sprinkle of angst, mentions of teen pregnancy, reader and PM! dazai are seventeen, SFW, mentions of a former abusive relationship, mentions of suicide (it’s fucking dazai), happy ending.
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Assistants were something he never cared for much.
They came and go, either requesting to work for a different department in the Port Mafia after witnessing his peculiarities or dying. He hadn’t ever formed any bonds with them. Hell, he hardly knew their names. Dazai preferred to give them childish nicknames such as ‘four-eyes’ for the ones with glasses or ‘baldy’ for the ones who had barely began balding.
No use in actually getting to know them.
All they were good for anyway was organizing his work and making a schedule of meetings and pointless missions he’d hardly follow. And what could they do? Nothing.
Once, he had attempted to get Ango to apply for the job during an outing at Bar Lupin, but that four-eyes declined. So did Oda. Geez, his friends lacked faith in him. Dazai wasn’t that bad of a boss. His subordinates didn’t die that often compared to the others.
Then again, his most recent assistant had died via overdosing. Straight from the Port Mafia’s warehouses, too. Dying of his own stupidity because karma struck him down. The high may have been sending him to the clouds, but he got too close to the sun just as Icarus did and burned—or in this case, vomited—to death. Fun.
A replacement would be needed, yes, but that would involve looking through so many applications and that was boring compared to strangling himself or pulling Chuuya’s hair when the redhead was speaking with Kouyou.
He’d pick irritating the slug over paperwork any day. At least one was fun.
So he just had Mori pick one out. As long as they wouldn’t be a nuisance and knew their place, he didn’t care who it was. Boy, girl, whatever. All ages welcomed. Dazai preferred younger though. The old farts were annoying and so utterly dumb! So when a subordinate gave him a file for his new assistant, he didn’t think anything of it. He always got those for record keeping.
Although this particular individual piqued his interest as his eyes gazed over the information attached.
The age was young—seventeen, same as him. A girl. According to the report, you were previously stationed as a secretary for some lower ranking member. And you’d just joined, too. Only a few blissful months ago. Just barely a baby in the crime world. All dewy-eyed and truly unknowing of the dark underbelly of Yokohama.
Most interesting, though, and the thing that struck his curiosity was the fact that a small sticky note was attached to the last page.
‘Single mother of eight month old girl’
There weren’t many parents in the Mafia, much less teenage ones. Nobody had time to have a baby with the lack of safety. But you did. Someone desperate enough to provide for their child to the point where they joined an illegal organization without even being an adult yet. That took will and selflessness. Something he lacked.
And without having even met you yet, Dazai found himself fascinated by you.
Murmuring your name to himself, he found himself a bit startled at how smooth it rolled off his tongue. He liked it, too. Your name was nice to say.
Tossing the file onto his desk carelessly, Dazai tapped his fingers on the desk, mind wandering once more. If you had a child then you’d probably work your best to support them. You’d be competent enough for him.
Apparently competent enough to the point where you felt like you could handle bringing the baby to the Mafia HQ.
“I don’t remember hiring two assistants.”
Dazai’s voice came out as slightly amused and startled. There you were, standing in-front of his desk while occasionally shushing your…daughter? It looked like a girl, anyway.
“Sorry- her sitter wasn’t available and I-“
His eyes stared at your reddening cheeks—embarrassment and shame, he could tell—as you spoke again.
“I don’t really have anyone to watch her. I’m so sorry, sir.”
Sir? You called him sir? That made him wave his hand a bit dismissively. The only people who called him ‘sir’ were the random grunts and gunmen that served under him. Or people who were scared shitless of him.
“Dazai. Not sir.”
Sitting up languidly, his uncovered eye focused on the baby. Curls of dark hair fell over her forehead while her tiny hands grabbed at your shirt and hair. Funny, he thought.
“And the baby can stay.”
She reminded him of some of the orphans Oda took care of. Especially Sakura. Maybe they had the same name, too. Unlikely, though. She didn’t look like a Sakura, really.
Picking up a pen, he pointed it at you, a small smile on her face.
“Speaking of, may I know her mother’s name?”
He knew it already. But it felt more right if he convinced himself you told him.
“Oh! Yes, uhm, I’m (L/N) (Y/N). And her name,” Tapping your baby’s forehead, she released a small coo, giggling slightly. “is (L/N) Yukirou.”
“Winter baby, huh. I’ll guess, December 16th?”
This was so much fun for him so far. Maybe Yukirou really could be his second assistant. As a joke, of course.
Nodding, you began to ramble on about the baby as he relaxed back in his chair, spinning around and making funny faces at Yukirou. The small child giggled and outreached her fingers to him, probably infatuated by his bandages and messy hair. He didn’t touch her, though. No need to let such a good small thing interact with a person like him.
And so minutes went by. Technically, he should’ve been doling out tasks and trying to kill himself again—he had heard of a technique where one could inject apple juice into their neck and die, but he wasn’t sure it’d work—but it slipped out of his grasp. Maybe it was the fact you two were so close in age. The fact that in another universe you could’ve been classmates fueled this moment. Dazai didn’t really know people his age other than Chuuya, but Chuuya was Chuuya. You were new.
New to everything in this line of business. The killing, the release of morals. Then again, you were just an assistant. You’d never directly be involved with that. Just helping him out with whatever was needed.
Dazai thought that was a smart choice, whether or not you intended for it to be. As an assistant, you’d be safe from the gunfire and outermost threats. More likely to live and protect your daughter.
So caring in a line of work where lives were dispensable.
He wondered how you got there. Not to the Port Mafia—the file told him. But how you took on such a frowned upon job to solely provide for your child. Was the father a deadbeat? Or actually dead? His father was the same. Dead five years into Dazai’s life.
His mother tried her best, but she died too and he slipped onto Mori’s grasp. Hopefully your baby wouldn’t end up in the same situation.
The peaceful moment was interrupted by one of his men who dropped off a load of documents, side-eyeing you before leaving.
Dazai wished you hadn’t turned the conversation back to work.
“Sir, sorry- Dazai-san, would you like me to organize the papers..?”
Why did he forget that you were just an assistant of his? The medication must be making his mind woozy again.
“By date and incident, yep. Also, if you see any that mentioned a Chuuya, please throw them out. Or burn them. Preferably the burning part.”
His office was always to be kept rid of that ginger.
“On it.”
And so he doodled a noose on the wood of his desk while you slowly put the papers away. It soon became clear to him that Yukirou was making the job a tad difficult by trying to grab at the papers.
A slight idea of letting her crawl loose in Mori’s office and destroying it entered his mind, but it quickly left.
“Y’know, if she’s being a devil, I can play with her for a bit. I swear I’ll be good!”
The words left him before he could really process them. Next thing he knew he was wearing the baby carrier with tiny fingers pulling at his shirt. Instructions poured from your lips as he nodded and patted the baby’s back.
“I’ll kill you if anything goes wrong.”
He couldn’t help but laugh at the sound of that. You? Kill him? Never going to happen. Unless it were a double suicide, but you probably wouldn’t say yes.
And he replied when the slight fear in your eyes registered after remembering that he was your boss in the Mafia.
“If course, cutie. I give you permission to kill me if theoretically anything goes wrong.”
Dazai made sure to sneak a peek at your reddening cheeks before leaving his office with the baby strapped to his chest and tugging at his bandages like a little snake.
That’s how it all started. A boy and a girl who happened to have a baby.
He’d never regret how months went by as you two became closer and closer. Joking around, complaining about work, all the stuff friends did. Hell, Dazai even watched Yukirou sometimes.
Thank god Chuuya wasn’t there to see him watching children’s cartoons on your couch with a baby in his lap and a stuffed animal in the other.
Or how he insisted on covering some of your rent when you were struggling. Yukirou needs a home, after all. He sees himself in her a bit. And he didn’t want her to turn out like him. If he couldn’t change his own life for the better, he’d change hers.
And yours.
Much better than that dickhead that fathered Yukirou. You told Dazai about it one night when he stayed over after babysitting once more. Yukirou was napping in her nursery, and you two were sitting on the couch just talking.
Talking turned into sharing details of your lives, and he came up. Your old flame who ditched you. Breaking a promise that he’d be there for the baby and you. Dazai was silent all throughout it. Quiet when you spoke of the emotional abuse and stress that you had, quiet when you began crying over the fact you never got to graduate high school.
He was just there, daring to awkwardly rub your back as you vented. He wondered if you had talked about it before. Probably not.
Dazai felt like he too needed to share a story of his childhood too in exchange for yours. So he told you about the poor neighborhood he grew up in and the horrors he saw daily.
Did it lessen the impact of your venting? Most likely, but in his opinion, he was trying to show you that he trusted you now too. He assumed it worked when you fell asleep on his shoulder. He took care of Yukirou when she woke crying an hour later. He would’ve been a much better father than that bastard.
It didn’t help either that Yukirou began to see him as her daddy. He was there when she turned a year old, gifting her all sorts of things. Scolding her when she nibbled on his hands. Doing nearly everything a dad would.
Even when she managed to say ‘mama’ and ‘dada’ for the first time, it was when all three of you were in the room together. In her tiny mind, it was her family. Her mama and Dazai—her papa. Oda congratulated him for becoming a father when you came along one day with him to Bar Lupin.
It didn’t live up to Chuuya’s reaction when he first heard one of his guys call Dazai a doting father. The shortstack had gone up to him asking if he really was Yukirou’s dad—rumors went around at HQ quickly—and Dazai had to sadly reply that he wasn’t. Sometimes he wished he was. Months of time with you led to nights in bed where he dreamed of a universe that he was really the dad. That Yukirou had his brown eyes instead of her dad’s blue ones.
It wasn’t fair.
Nor were his growing feelings.
Dazai was smart. A genius thinker and planner. So of course he noticed how his heart began to rapidly beat around you. The sweating of his usually cold hands.
He’d had crushes in the past, sure. But it didn’t equate to this. Such a strong connection only made it worse. Was it wrong his Google history lately was filled with questions about confessing to and dating a single mom?
Did you even like him back?
That question couldn’t be answered by anyone but you. It scared him. You probably didn’t. Not as more than a brother, anyway. His suicidal ideation and tendencies scared off any woman who wanted more than sex. But he probably wouldn’t be living long anyway. So he’d have to shoot his shot eventually.
Which he did after another five months of consideration and thought. Dazai committed this act by simply asking you to sort out some notes for him. A total of eight. Each one had a single word on it. If you correctly put them together, it spelled:
‘I like you. Do you like me back?’
Much to his relief and shock, you did. You did, and he had hugged you so tightly. Tightening their bond, too.
So he became your boyfriend. And he wore the title of ‘dad’ to Yukirou gladly. The little girl saw him as her papa, and he couldn’t deny it. Even if it wasn’t biologically, she was his. And yours.
Dazai’s life used to be mundane and slow, yet with his new…family, he felt genuine happiness for once. A reason to live.
That was the greatest gift he could receive of all.
Regular Tags: @twst-om-lover, @xxcandlelightxx, @sinfulthoughtsposts.
Tags for everyone who interacted with this post (it’s over 100): @walking-simp, @hypocritic-trash-baby, @heartsfourdazai, @cheriiyaya, @depressed-monarch, @nyxt0t, @baby-tini, @h0nk3rs, @internet-angell, @cupidszvlvr, @owosamu, @my-dear-melancholy, @dazaibae, @nekomafumafufan18-blog, @cvsmois, @lizsano, @nanamiinto, @inojuuy, @reomarys, @mayanakahara, @briiscoolig, @maislovebot, @syona-sachyo, @xieqq2, @angelof-darkness, @moriiko, @fuckthisfuckingshit, @daushu, @wrynue, @amnda-ft-fyodor, @rain-alucard, @hanayoshiii, @moemoekunn, @thatwasa, @miiiloo, @probablyzombiedinosaurs, @mauviese, @chips-and-vinegar, @https-dazai, @rragudoru, @leyla3x0, @cheetozai, @jillyfsh, @rylerboi, @linaaeatsfamilies, @zorizoras, @onlinewhisper14, @komicoral, @anim3-simps, @theoddsinner, @caayye, @scaramow, @such-a-silly-little-gy, @bunnybs-stuff, @psychiclovecollective, @sleepy-yumi516, @fromjas, @suzurans-world, @mrstengenuzui, @mitislm, @tealover111, @edgarallanpoeswifey, @baby-tini, @yaz4luvv, @deliciouscandysalad, @isrealityevenreal, @briefcreationcandy, @astr3eaa, @underscoredaniii, @nolongerhooman, @notalooo, @ratinawetsocksweater, @tomiroro,
Rest in comments I’m crying now also if your tag is white it’s because you didn’t pop up when I was doing the @‘s
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gyuwoncheol · 6 months
Text
Takes Two to Tango
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Pair: Scoups x f!reader
Genre: Fluff, Angst
Summary: Cheollie to the rescue on a bad day
Warnings: angst, mentions of Cheol’s torn ACL injury. There is, in fact, no tango happening at all.
WC: 1.7k
Author's Note: Wrote this a while back but have always waited for the right time to post it. I’ve had an exhausting week, probably the most tired I’ve been in a long while. I just want to be conforted by Cheol. Dedicating this also to all my carat friends going though a rough patch right now. You must remember our boys and our leader love us so much 🩵🩷
Author's Note 2.0: Written because I truly miss Cheol and I know he misses us just as much. I always feel slightly disoriented when I don’t see him in the promotions. I also just really miss having an ot13 comeback 😞
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“Babe?” It’s the first thing you hear when you enter the door and you’re already cursing at how Seungcheol just knows it’s you.
“Hmm,” You drop your keys and took off your shoes, taking a quick glance at the mirror by your main door, wiping the dried tears that marked your cheeks. Kkuma eventually got to you and pawed at your legs gently. You pick her up and cuddle into her a good few minutes, sighing heavily as you shut your eyes closed.
There wasn’t really any other way to put it. You had an absolute shit of a day. You got a flat tire on the way to the office, consequently making you late to a very important meeting. You were given a new workload that wasn’t even really part of your scope anymore but there was really no other person who could take it on, while another important project you’d been taking care of had to be delayed because of a manufacturing problem. Everyone in the office seemed to need to meet you that you ended up taking lunch 2 hours late, and just when you were about to take your 3rd cup of coffee for the day, the lid had popped open and spilled the brown liquid all over your very white top. By the time you left the office, you were cranky and hungry, like you wanted to scream and fight with anyone. It was only when you arrived at home and caught sight of the warm light that peeked through the windows that you were reminded about Cheol being home.
Your boyfriend who was nursing a torn ACL and evidently spent much of his day at home. Your boyfriend who was sweet and loving enough to check in on you throughout the day, but he barely got substantial replies. Your boyfriend who didn’t mind cause he knew you were busy. Your boyfriend who was now looking at you with the softest eyes as you approached him with a kiss on the cheek.
“Hi baby,” he greeted, arms open wide as he remained partially immobile on the couch.
You hesitated about going in front of the couch and receiving his embrace, your heart feeling like it was squeezed at the moment. To your better judgment, you hugged him with one arm from behind and a quick kiss on his lips instead.
“Can i just go clean up first? I.. i got coffee spilled all over me,” you excused yourself, averting his gaze.
Seungcheol nodded and watched you scurry away to your shared bedroom, a heavy sigh leaving his lips. He normally gets sulky when you avoid his hugs, but this time he had already sensed something was off with you. It was the way you wrongly messaged him “take care at rehab” at 1pm when he actually had his appointment at 10am. You’ve never forgotten any of his appointments. It was also in the way he had noticed you enter the house only 20 minutes after your car park at the garage. He obviously noticed how tired you looked and the little smudge of your mascara from tears. It broke his heart that you chose to keep this with yourself, you normally always ran to him for refuge when you needed it.
You stood idly in the shower for what felt like forever. If it were up to you, you would’ve never gotten out but alas, you could only hide forever and the water bill will spike up so you got out and got changed, drying your hair and pulling on one of your boyfriend’s large shirts, your favorite one.
“Oh my god!” You jumped at the sight of Seungcheol on the bed when you got to your bedroom, “you scared me. How’d you get all the way here?!”
“Babe, I can already walk you know? Just slowly, but I still get to places.”
“Right, yeah, sorry. I was just surprised,” you shook your head, “uhmm.. i’m gonna go get water…”
“There’s water here,” Seungcheol pointed out, gesturing towards the small table which indeed had drinking water
“Oh. Okay. Then i’ll just go and fix up the liv—“
“Y/n,” Seungcheol called out softly but still firm, freezing you on the spot by the door. You closed your eyes at the nickname, and you just knew he knew you were avoiding him. “Please look at me?”
You turned around slowly, eyes only peeking open after taking a deep breath. You glanced at him and immediately, tears already began pricking at your eyes, so you looked down at the floor instead, standing there like a child that just got scolded. Cheol waited to see if you’d get closer or if you’d at least bring your gaze back to him but when you didn’t he worried even more. Slowly, he swung his leg off the bed to make his way to you.
“What are you doing?” You panicked with his movements.
“Trying to get you to me.”
That seemed to do the trick, your feet padding towards him quickly and helping him raise his injured leg on the bed again, “just stay put. I’ll do it.”
Seungcheol grabbed your hand, squeezing it tightly for good measure, “Jagi, what’s wrong? Could you please tell me?”
You looked at him once more and Cheol had the warmest gaze fixed on you. You sat by his side, feeling bad you were worrying him. “I just had a bad day at work, that’s all.”
“Wanna tell me more?” He prodded, thumb rubbing soothing circles at the back of your hand.
“No, it’s okay. I’m okay.”
“You clearly aren’t,” Seungcheol retorted, “babe, you know I won’t pry if I didn’t think something else was wrong but you’re worrying me, you always run to me when you have bad days and problems, why are you shutting me out now?”
Your boyfriend sounded pained and you cursed yourself for making him feel that way. “Cheollie, i’m not shutting you out…” you whispered, “I just don’t think it matters to you is all.”
Cheol watched you shrug at your words, as if trying to convince yourself of what you just said. “It matters when it’s making my girl sad, why would you think it wouldn’t?”
“Becauseeee,” you whined, “you clearly have worse problems than I do. You’re uncomfortable, you have a hard time moving, rehab is painful, i know you’d really rather be with the boys doing work but instead you’re stuck at home. You have it much worse than I do. It’s just a bad day at work. I’ll be fine.” You said everything so fast you hadn’t even noticed a tear had rolled down your cheek but your boyfriend was quick to wipe it away before you pulling into his chest.
It crushed Cheol to see you like this. You weren’t one to hold off on your emotions to him. “Baby, just because im having a bad day doesn’t mean you’re not allowed to. My ‘bigger’ problems,” your boyfriend raised his fingers to gesture air quotes, “shouldn’t invalidate yours.”
“I know, but..”
“No but’s… your feelings are valid. Period. And I’m always here for you. We’re a team, remember?”
You looked at Seungcheol properly for the first time tonight, tears in your eyes as you studied his features intently, and then the dam broke loose. You hide your face on the crook of his neck and sobbed, little hiccups and squeaks coming out of you. Cheol could feel the rapid rise and fall of your chest as he embraced you in his arms, patting your hair with one hand whispering encouragements to just “let it all out”.
“I’m j-just… just so tired, Cheol,” you whispered softly in between cries, “I s-swear…. it’s nothing else… jus’ t-tired.” And it was true, there wasn’t anything else bothering you, you just simply felt tired from everything going on in your life, “I just didn’t w-want… t-to tell you and burden you. S-so I… i k-kept it in… I’m sorry.”
“Hey, shhhh, no need to be sorry. I believe you and i’m always here for you. Never a burden, jagi. Remember that.” Seungcheol squeezed you tighter, wanting to just take away all of the hurt and exhaustion you were feeling.
He continued to speak soothing words as he let you release more pent up feelings, his face scrunching up when you’d let out a strangled gasp. It hurt for Cheol to even think about how long you’ve felt this way, he has been injured for quite a while now.
You wipe away your tears after what felt like forever, the tip of your nose was positively red and your eyes were now swollen. Your boyfriend offered you a weak smile before planting a kiss on your forehead.
“I love you,” you say after clearing your throat, “thank you for listening.”
“Of course, jagi. I love you too. I’m sorry if all this,” Seungcheol gestures to his knee, “has disturbed our routine—“
“What? Cheollie, no,” you interrupted, “don’t be sorry. I’m not blaming your or your injury at all.”
“I know. I’m just saying I know things have been a little more difficult than usual for us, but I know we’ll get through it as long as we do it together, yeah? You don’t always have to give it your all, you know. I’m always going to be here to fill in the gap for you, the same way you do with me. You’ve been so good at taking care of me lately, I just hope you’d remember that I want to take care of you too, even with a bad knee.”
You giggled at his last words, knowing full well that even with his disability, Seungcheol would cross rivers and move mountains for you. That’s simply how he is as a person. It showed with how he flew to Japan to support his brothers and see their fans for their show. You witnessed it in the way he’d wake up early in the morning even when he didn’t have a schedule just so he could take breakfast with you and send you off for work. Saw it with how there was always dinner ready on the table when you got home. Sometimes they were cooked by him, sometimes just delivered, but it didn’t matter to you. You knew it was his way to make good on his promise of using all this time at home to make up for lost time with you.
Some people think it annoyingly stubborn— some people being his doctors— but to you, it meant that he was passionate, determined and most importantly, he loved fiercely.
He loves you fiercely.
You gently nodded at his words whilst cupping his face in your small hands. Seungcheol did the same, his thumb wiping your dried tears after placing a chaste kiss to your lips.
“Together?” You asked despite knowing the answer.
“Together.”
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mattyriddlesbitch · 12 days
Note
jealous Enzo one shot?? where he sees the reader getting hit on at a party and usually he doesn’t let it phase him, but he’s having a bad day so he waltz over and just kisses the reader aggressively and lustfully in front of the other person
I love jealous boys!!!
Jealous!
Lorenzo Berkshire x F!Reader
Warnings: Kissing, that's about it.
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Lorenzo was always confident in his relationship with you. Did you getting hit on maybe irk him a bit? Yeah. But he trusted you and knew you wouldn’t do anything.
Today, though, was already a bad day. He was a bit grumpy, a bit short with everyone. He tried keeping it in check, though. There was a party that day and he didn’t want to ruin it for anyone. Especially when you were so excited and had bought a cute dress. A very short, cute dress. He never minded when you wore stuff like that, he actually liked that you showed off what was his sometimes.
But when you went to go get a drink and he noticed you hadn’t come back as quick as you normally do, he went to find you. To say he was livid when he found you cornered by a guy by the drinks was an understatement. The guy was super close to you, moving his hand to touch your arm.
Before the guy even could, Enzo pushed the guy’s hand away and wrapped his arm around your waist.
“Who’s this, sunshine?” He asked. He was smiling, but you could see the anger in his eyes as he stared at the guy when you looked up at him
“This is my partner in potions.” You answered, holding his hand that was on your waist to try to calm him.
“Mark, right?” Enzo asked the guy.
“Yeah.” The guy nodded, clearly a little shocked at Enzo and his reaction.
“Right.” Enzo was still smiling. “(Y/N) was telling me you were pretty smart, huh?”
“Um, I guess so.” This guy was clearly uncomfortable.
“Yet, you’re hitting on someone’s girlfriend? On my girlfriend?” Enzo was only getting more upset by the second. You turned so you were hugging his side, making sure he didn’t escalate things.
“I-I wasn’t-I wouldn’t. We were just talking.”
“Talking.” Enzo repeated, his smile still not budging. “Funny, it didn’t look like that. You were about to touch her.”
“I’m sorry, I wasn’t-”
“Don’t apologize to me. I wasn’t the one you had cornered over here.” Enzo’s grip on your waist tightened slightly, like he was trying to resist hurting the guy.
“I’m sorry, (Y/N). I didn’t mean-”
“You forgive him, baby?” Enzo turned his head to look at you.
You really didn’t want him to push things further so you gave a small “Yes.”
“Good. Don’t hit on my girlfriend again. Understand?”
“Yes.” Mark said, clearly still uncomfortable and probably a bit scared.
“You’re mine, remember that.” Enzo said as he looked at you before kissing you. He brought his free hand to your hair, using his hand on your waist to pull you closer. His kiss was passionate and deep. He forced his tongue in your mouth, kissing you like that for a long moment before pulling back, smiling when he realized the guy had left. “The things you do to me, sunshine.” He said before pulling your head back and kissing your neck.
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hawkinsmethlab · 11 months
Text
Part Two
Read on AO3
The first time they kiss, Eddie is technically dead. Or, does CPR even count? Steve’s tempted to say no, because that’s not how kissing works. (He would know the best out of any of them, right?) The cracking of ribs under his hands and the taste of blood in his mouth, how desperately he’s blowing air into too-heavy lungs and listening to one of his best friends cry so hard he’s dry heaving.
But he doesn’t stop, not until there’s a pulse, however weak.
Eddie dies twice on the way to the hospital. They tell Steve later that he died again when he was on the operating table and nearly didn’t get him back.
Steve runs himself ragged over the next month, between volunteering at the community center, donating blood and making sandwiches, helping to clear the streets of debris, patrolling for Upside Down shenanigans and playing chauffeur for his gang of kids who aren’t acting so much like kids these days. He visits Max and Eddie as often as he can. Max still hasn’t woken up and nobody’s sure when that might be, but he gets to have his first conversation with Eddie about a month later.
He’s only been awake for a week, and still can’t do much of anything but talk, and even that’s hit or miss most days. Even when he can kind of hold a conversation, he gets tired too fast for it to mean much, but everyone Steve talks to is upbeat about his recovery.
He hadn’t been planning on actually sitting with him, there’s still so much to do, but Wayne had asked him to hang out while he ran to grab himself some lunch. Who is he to deny that man anything, especially something so easy as watching a half-comatose idiot?
Eddie wakes up after about a minute of Steve being there. When he notices him, Eddie’s eyes go glazed and he’s got a dopey smile.
“They’ve got you on the good stuff, huh?” Steve says.
Eddie nods, but his muscles are loose so it’s more of a roll. “Oh, yeah. I’d make a fortune off the stuff if I could get my hands on it. But, shh, don’t tell. I’ll get in trouble.”
“Okay, man, whatever you say. My lips are sealed or whatever.”
“Mmm.” Eddie squints at him then, frowns until he’s pouting. “Sorry you had to do that.”
“Do what?”
“Lay one on me,” he says, eyes closed now. “Bet you hated it. Bet it tasted awful.”
Steve rolls his eyes, fights back the smile his lips are trying to pull up into. “Appreciate the concern. Lucky for you, it wasn’t anything I hadn’t tasted before. And I didn’t. Hate it.”
Eddie’s eyes open so fast Steve worries they’re gonna fly out of his skull. “You what?”
“I was saving your life, dude,” Steve says. Duh. “Hard to hate something like that. I mean, maybe if it hadn’t worked then it might be a different story but--”
“Oh. Right.” Eddie relaxes back into his pillow. He’s trying to keep his eyes open, on Steve, but it’s a fight he isn’t going to win. He’s like a kid trying to stay up past his bedtime, and this time Steve can’t force down the smile in time.
“Just go to sleep,” he tells him. “Your uncle will be back soon.”
“Been sleepin’ forever, I’m sick of it. Keep havin’ weird dreams.”
“...Yeah, I’ve been there.”
Silence settles between them, broken by beeps of machinery, distant footsteps and announcements from the hallway. Eddie’s eyes are closed again, his brow still creased. Steve thinks he might have actually fallen back asleep until he sees his lips move.
Steve scoots a little closer. “Are you trying to say something?”
Eddie sniffs, make the face like he’s pouting again. “I said, I’mma make it up to you.”
“Make what up to me?”
“Bad first kiss.” Eddie shakes his head. “I can do better. Wanna do-over.”
Steve freezes like a deer in headlights. Like he has a gun to his head. Like he just heard the front door open and he knows it’s his parents coming home. He knows it’s the drugs talking and that Eddie doesn’t know what he’s saying, not really. At the end of the day he probably isn’t going to remember this conversation.
Eddie is in a hospital bed, hooked up to about a dozen different machines looking like he’s been hit by a train, his skin so pale that Steve can make out every vein, every bruise and cut and stitch. Long fingernails and peeling scabs that crawl up his neck like a fungus. He’s drooling a bit from the side of his mouth and his eyes are still crusty with sleep and he’s got a smattering of acne that’s cropped up on his forehead and nose, along the edge of his chin. His bangs are pinned back because they’re so greasy.
Steve’s heart races anyway.
There’s a correct answer here, the one he’s been raised with, the one beaten into him. The instinctual urge to brush it off as a joke (ha, good one, man) to take it as an insult (remember who you’re talking to, Munson) to ignore it altogether (just go back to sleep).
Then there’s the incorrect answer.
“Alright, Munson,” he says, softly, terrified. “Once you’re all better, you can show me what I missed out on.”
Through the exhaustion and the pain meds, Eddie grins. “Watch out, Harrington. I’m about to rock your world.”
Steve smiles. He doesn’t fight it this time. “Can’t wait.”
1K notes · View notes
foreverinadais · 9 months
Text
bad date: j.l
summary: you find yourself on a bad date. in desperation, you call your ex, jake lockley, hoping he can help you. which he does, in ways you never could've bargained for.
warnings: smut (eek), dry humping, kissing, light choking ig??? jake puts his hand around reader's neck, fluff, teasing, reader's date is a twat like he seriously sucks, angst but not with jake, no use of y/n or pronouns :) ~part of the ex! mk series but can be read standalone!!!~
word count: 3.4k
ex!mk series: (1) (2) (3) (4) (5)
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It felt wrong to be on a date. Extremely wrong. You felt as though you were being disloyal, despite having no commitments, no one to be disloyal too. The events of a couple of weeks ago were still freshly embedded in your brain. It was as though every time you blinked, you remembered a different detail from your conversation with Marc, or a different look from your car ride with Jake, or a different touch from your comforting of Steven.
You had never been quite so confused.
You almost cancelled the date that had been scheduled for quite some time. But doing that would admit you weren’t over your exes. And admitting that would put all the work you had done in getting over them to shame.
So, you got ready, put on your finest outfit with the glamour you desired, and got a taxi to the restaurant you were meeting him at.
He seemed nice enough over text. You had shared stories, even laughed at his pick up lines. He was handsome in a way which felt… unnatural. You struggled to find attraction to other people after so long denouncing everyone. It felt odd to look at a person, that wasn’t your person, in any way other than politeness.
He had embraced you, even kissed your hand, and you worried as you felt nothing. He had opened the door for you, even pulled your chair out, waiting for you to sit and still… nothing. He was perfectly nice.
Until he started talking.
“I just do not understand the people who say looks mean nothing. I mean, obviously, I am attractive, I know that. And you’re decent looking. We’re attracted to each other, nothing wrong with that.” You cocked an eyebrow, taking a long sip of wine as you hummed.
“Right. I mean, I think appearance is surface level. Other things matter more, like how much you laugh together, your morals… good conversation.” He scoffed, waving over the waiter with just his hand. Ew.
“Should’ve known you would think like that. Crickey, wonder what other opinions you have in that brain of yours?”
“Actually, I have a lot.”
“Right, Would love to hear about those, that’s why I came on this date.” The sarcasm dripped off his words and anger bubbled in your stomach. You opened your mouth to talk when the waiter came over, notepad in hand. “I’ll have the steak -rare- with the potatoes and veg. Gotta get the protein in after a work-out.” You cringed and the waiter shot you a sympathetic look.
“And for you?”
“I’ll have the lasagne, please. With garlic bread.” The man in front of you chuckled, but it felt cold.
“Are you sure? Don’t want to have to kiss you with garlic breath.” Your stomach lurched at the thought of kissing him, but it was by no means a positive feeling. You would rather be sick.
“Make that extra garlic.” You said, and the waiter nodded with a smug, ‘certainly.’
Your date talked at you for the next fifteen minutes. He told you his life story, his career, about his friends and their “absolutely wild times, we go kinda crazy, you probably wouldn’t be able to handle it.” You were relieved when the food came out, so you had a moment of silence.
You wanted to leave. To shout at him, get up, and go. But you knew that wasn’t smart. He seemed like the type to follow you out the restaurant and ridicule you for making a scene, before claiming he was a ‘nice guy’.
You stuffed another piece of garlic bread in your mouth as you attempted to plan your next move. “These potatoes are vile. God, you want something done right, I can’t even eat this.” You resisted the urge to roll your eyes, instead shrugging.
You had eaten at supersonic speed to rush the date, to get home and snuggle under your covers watching a shitty romcom whilst eating the leftover cake in your fridge. You were relived as he swallowed the last bite of food, putting his cutlery down and sighing deeply. “Well that was a load of shit. The food, I mean, not you, darling.” You almost threw your food back up but managed to keep it down.
“Hmm. Right, should we-”
“Dessert first, right? Not that either of us need it but can’t have a date without something sweet.” The wink he sent you made your whole body curl in disgust. If you had to spend more than thirty seconds more with him, you were sure you’d end up stuffing your ears full of cheese just to never him speak again. This was the worst date you’d ever been on. You weren’t expecting the best date ever, but at least something to distract you from-
The idea hit you all at once.
Pulling out your phone, you pretended to look concerned, opening the one contact you knew would be readily available right now. “Excuse me, I have to take this.” You said as your date just shrugged.
Standing from your chair, you found an empty corner, hitting the call button and desperately holding the phone to your ear. It only took a couple of rings before you heard the familiar, “Yes?”
“Jake, you gotta pick me up. I’ll act like you have an emergency and you need my help or something, and then I’ll hastily leave, and you can get me in your cab and-”
“Woah, woah, slow down. What’s goin’ on? Estas en peligro? Are you in danger?” You shook your head, even though he couldn’t see you.
“Nothing like that. I’m just… this is kinda awkward but I’m on a date.” You could imagine him tensing up as his breathing changed slightly. “But it’s terrible and awful and I just, if I spend one more second with him I’ll end up killing someone.” Jake chuckled, and you scoffed. “It isn’t funny! Look, you owe me. And here’s your chance to pay me back like right now. As fast as you can. I don’t care how many laws you break getting here.”
“Relax, Carino. I got in the car when you started talking.” You smiled, feeling your cheeks heat and your heart skip.
“Thanks, Jake. I’ll send you my location.” He hummed, and you hung up, quickly sending the restaurant name before returning to your date.
“I’m so sorry but my friend’s had an emergency. This has been… lovely… though.”
“You’re leaving?”
“I have too, yeah.”
He scoffed, and you noticed a shift in his persona. “Figures. Everyone leaves me.”
“Nonono, it isn’t anything like that! My friend-”
“Likely story. You know, I’m too good for you anyway. You won’t get a date with someone like me again.”
“Well, thank fuck for that. In fact, I’m deleting every dating app I have just to make sure I never do!” It came out before you could bite your tongue, but fuck, it felt good.
“Whatever. Didn’t want to fuck you anyway.”
“Excuse me? That’s all this was? God, you’re such an arsehole! Fuck you, I’m leaving. I’ll pay my half at the till.” He started ranting about something, about how you ‘probably couldn’t afford it’ and how ‘you’re lucky he’s being nice’ but you were already walking away.
You paid for your meal, apologising to the waiter for the arsehole’s rude behaviour, but she just smiled and handed you a piece of dessert in a takeaway box; “It’s on the house.” You smiled, ignoring the shouts from your date as you left the restaurant.
You were beyond grateful to see him. He was wearing his driving gloves, the rough leather ones that you loved. He had got out the car, waiting anxiously to see you. You saw his sigh of relief when he did. You couldn’t help yourself.
You practically ran toward him, watching his face of shock turn to acceptance as you reached his arms. You wrapped an arm around his waist, careful not to drop your food as he engulfed you in a hug. “Hi.” You whispered into his chest, beyond grateful he was there. You knew you could look after yourself. You didn’t need a man to come to your rescue.
But he wasn’t just a man.
Secretly, you were looking for an excuse, any excuse, to call them again.
“That bad, huh?” He said as you pulled away, scanning your face as if he hadn’t seen you in years.
“Worse.” You wanted to convey a serious composure. It had been terrible. But if you didn’t laugh, you’d definitely cry. Jake rose an eyebrow as you began chuckling, covering your mouth to try to contain it. But eventually, it started pouring out, until you were out of breath laughing.
“What’s so funny?” Jake asked but couldn’t help smiling himself. “Huh?”
“It was the worst date ever.” You managed to get out, and even though Jake couldn’t quite understand, your laughter was so contagious, he couldn’t stop himself from joining in. People passing by shot you a few weird looks, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care as you released your emotions in the healthiest way you had for a while.
Eventually, you calmed down, wiping a tear from under your eye as Jake looked at you in admiration. “Want a ride?” You smiled, glancing back at the restaurant before nodding. Jake opened the door for you as you climbed in the cab.
“We have to stop doing this.” You said as Jake had pulled up to your flat. You had told him every detail about your date from hell, down to what seasoning you had on your food.
Jake had listened neutrally, apart from whenever you mentioned that man. His blood boiled as he thought about you on a date, thought about another man looking at you, making comments about you.
But he ignored the jealously, instead focusing his negative feelings on your date. “He sounds like a fucking asshole. Should’ve gone in there and given him a piece’f my mind.” He had said,gripping the steering wheel, but you brought him down, assuring him you had taken care of it and would be deleting him off every app you had him on.
“Doin’ what?” He asked, and you gestured between the two of you.
“Picking each other up? Calling each other? Seeing each other at all?” Jake nodded, but smirked.
“Almost like we can’t get enough of each other.” He teased and you tried to ignore the effect he had on you.
“Almost like you can’t get enough of me.”
“Ey? How’d ya reach that conclusion? You called us.”
“You called me first! I thought it was just something we did now.”
“Sounds like it’ll become a bad habit.”
“Maybe. But sometimes, I like being bad.”
“I remember.” The air shifted and suddenly, there was too much space between the two of you. You watched as he gulped, watched as the vein in his neck tensed and his lips twisted up in the familiar way they did.
“Thanks for the lift. Again.” You said, chuckling lightly, trying to clear the fog in your mind.
“Right. Anytime.”
“Anytime huh? That’s dangerous.”
“Maybe. But I like danger.”
“I remember.” You teased his words from earlier, and he shot you a small smile. Fuck, you wished he hadn’t looked over; and so did he. You held eye contact a beat longer than you had intended, your heart skipping a beat as his eyes flicked briefly towards your lips. You swallowed harshly, pulling yourself away from the moment, forcing yourself to make a move out of the car. “I should really…” You pointed toward your flat, smiling awkwardly as he nodded.
“Right. You should rest. I’ll see you, well, whenever either of us need a lift.”
You chuckled, nodding, “Well, thanks.”
“Por supuesto, anytime, seriously.” You didn’t want to leave. This felt different from every interaction with them since you had broken up. Something was screaming at you to stay, and you didn’t think it was the remnants of wine left in your system.
No, it was as if an invisible force was willing you to him, to his scent, his warmth, his stupidly attractive smirk. He noticed your hesitation, eyebrow raised in question. “If you’re gonna sit here all night, lemme know so I can turn off the engine.” He teased jokingly, and you forced a laugh.
“ ‘m going now, just… preparing for the cold.” He nodded but didn’t look convinced, amusement lingering in his features. “Okay, ready now!” You felt suddenly embarrassed, deciding to get the inevitability of your leaving over with. “Goodbye, Jake.” You said quietly, sticking your hand out as if to shake his hand.
“You want me too…”
“I don’t know! I thought it was a nice, civil gesture to end this terrible evening with!”
“A handshake…?”
“Fine, it was dumb anyway-” You began, retracting your hand before he grabbed it with his gloved one.
“No, no, c’mon.” He squeezed your palm with his own, and your skin tingled at the contact. The friendly gesture was corrupted in your brain as he shook your joined hands, a smug look on his face at the way your breath hitched. “There, happy now?”
You couldn’t think. Could hardly breath as you shook your head, ‘no’. Because it wasn’t enough. No amount of contact would ever be enough.
You didn’t think about the possible aftermath of your next action. You couldn’t think about anything but him. With zero hesitation, you were shuffling forward in your seat, hands falling on his jacket as you pulled him toward you slightly. Your lips barely grazed his, but it was enough to send your heart soaring.
No sooner than you had done it, you pulled away. It was his move. His cho
Jake looked to your gaze, then down to your lips, repeating the action twice. His eyes were glazed over, and you were sure his mind was reeling, his alters talking over each other, but he couldn’t hear anything apart from your heavy breathing and all he could smell was your perfume-
His hands cupped your cheeks, a small groan leaving his lips before they were on yours. You sighed in content, moving your lips with his as if you had never stopped. Your hands found his hair, tugging on the familiar locks gently as he traced your jaw with his fingers.
You didn’t ever want to stop kissing him. It felt so familiar yet so distant, as if you had only ever dreamt of moments like this. When in reality, you had kissed him thousands of different times. And it all came flooding in to this moment.
Jake pulled back slightly, breathless. You wondered why he had stopped, about to ask when you felt his thumb trace your bottom lip. Your breath hitched as he pulled lightly, your mouth obediently opening for him. He smiled before pulling his own lip between his teeth, eyes dark as he gently pushed his thumb into your mouth.
You made a noise of shock, but quickly pushed it away as you swirled your tongue around the tip of his thumb, inviting him to push further. Jake groaned, almost in disbelief, eyes never leaving yours. “Fuck, baby.” His words were drawn out, like they always were in situations like this. It drove you crazy. “C’mere, need you t’ be closer.” He said, voice husky as he apprehensively removed his thumb from your mouth, quickly silencing your groan of disapproval with his lips.
Jake pulled you over the gearstick, careful you didn’t hurt yourself, not that you cared at all about your safety right now. He sighed in relief as you swung your legs over his lap, straddling him as your arms looped around his shoulders, bringing him impossibly closer. “Relax, Carino, ‘m not goin’ anywhere.” He chuckled against your lips, but you hardly heard as you rolled your hips forward.
His chuckles turned into groans as you found a pace, desperate to feel him against you, everywhere. Jake held onto your waist, helping you move rougher against him, trying to keep kissing you but fuck it felt so good.
You pulled away first, breathing heavy in pleasure as small moans left your lips. Every sound you made only amplified what he was feeling, and he couldn’t help but clash his lips to yours just to swallow them.
“Jake.” You whimpered, and he couldn’t recall a time his name had ever sounded so good. It was euphoric, just hearing you say his name.
“Fuck, baby, you sound ruined, and I’ve barely even touched you.” His words elicited another moan from you as your head fell into his shoulder, hips rolling faster to chase a high you couldn’t reach on your own, or with any other partner you had tried with since them.
Jake squeezed the flesh of your waist, still guiding your movements as his other hand went to the back of your neck. He tugged you up, watching as your bottom lip slipped between your teeth. “Let me hear you, sweetheart. Lemme hear what I do to you.” He pulled your lip out from your teeth, and you let out a broken moan, eyes squeezing shut as his teeth bit possessively at your neck.
“Who’s makin’ you feel this good?” His voice had an edge to it, dark and dirty. It made your thighs clench harder around him.
“You.” You whimpered, eyes rolling back as you felt yourself hurdling closer to the edge.
“Not that prick from your date, huh? Ey, look at me. Who makes you feel like this? Need’ta hear you say my name.”
“You, Jake! Always you!” You practically sobbed, overwhelmed and so, so close. All your senses were heightened, and you couldn’t recall the last time you had felt this level of pleasure. And he hadn’t even touched you yet.
Jake chuckled darkly, his hand slipping up to your neck, squeezing only slightly, but it was enough to send your mind reeling. “Thaaat’s it.” His words were drawn out in arousal. You were at the edge, practically falling off, and Jake could tell. Even after all this time, he could read your body perfectly.
“You can let go, Carino. Let go f’me, c’mon, there you go.” He cooed as you clutched onto him, gasping and repeating his name like a mantra as you reached your peak. Jake kissed your shoulder, stroking at your back as your body shook with aftershocks. “Did so good f’me, baby.” He whispered and you practically melted against him.
The windows were covered in perspiration from the events inside the car, and your heavy breathing filled the car. Jake whispered terms of endearment in your ear as you snuggled into his body. It was hot inside his car, yet somehow, you couldn’t get enough of his heat.
Eventually, you felt strong enough to speak, lifting your head up to face him, skin glowing in a thin layer of sweat and euphoria. Jake’s smiled matched your own as he cupped your cheeks, bringing you in for another kiss. “Wow.” You whispered against his lips, and he chuckled, agreeing.
You stroked the side of his face, tracing the details of his skin with soft fingertips. Jake leaned into your touch, savoring the softness of your actions. Neither of you were thinking about the consequences. And if you were, neither of you cared. Not right now. He hadn’t felt like this in a long time. He had almost forgotten that happiness existed outside of you.
“It’s late.” He said suddenly, and you sat up straighter. “You need rest, especially now. I don’t wanna disrupt that.”
“Wait, what? I just kinda figured… you don’t want to come up with me?”
“Well… I thought you were finished.”
“Yeah, but you didn’t get to…” You looked down at his lap, at the prominent issue still there, and you smiled teasingly.  
“Trust me, baby, that was all I needed.”
“But I want to make it up to you.” You innocently ran a hand down his chest, stopping just before his belt and he tensed.
“You don’t have to-”
“I want too. If you want too.” You watched as he tutted, before nodding. “Please?” Your voice was soft but seductive as you ran a hand through his hair, placing a gentle kiss to the side of his jaw, then his cheek, then just next to his lips.
You felt drunk on him and you didn't care about what this could mean. How far it could set you back. You were too far gone, too deep already. You needed him. You always needed him.
Jake groaned, squeezing the flesh of your waist. “Joder eres tan bueno -fuck you’re so good-  when you ask so nicely, how could I ever refuse?”
a/n: i have never written smut before so this was a fun venture into it!!! i promise more parts are coming. i was conflicted on how to do this chapter but it kinda found it's own end. the next one will involve our other two boys yayyy :) i am really enjoying writing this series. thank you so much for reading!!!
tags: @rmoonstoner @marinalor @readingfan @neteyamsluvts @howellatme @nana90azevedo @midgardian-witch @daddyjackfrost
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icallhimjoey · 2 months
Text
Explain Us
♥ ♥  Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader
Summary: So, more than flatmates... but, what exactly? Would be fantastic if you would just, you know, talk about it. But communicating is not your strong suit and you're extremely certain that it's fine. Confusing and vague, but, fine.
CW / disclaimer: rpf, fem!reader, a continuation of define close, no need to read it to enjoy this, though it will help! 18+ smut
Author’s note: there's an attempt at communication! hurray!
Wordcount: 3.2K
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part one - part two - part three - part four - part five
Shittest night of sleep ever? Yea. Shittest night of sleep ever.
It could not be true that in this short amount of time you no longer were able to fall asleep on your own like a normal person. That you needed another body next to you in order to let it catch you and drag you under.
But you’d barely slept. And the sleep that you did get was of the lightest variety, which barely even counted as sleep, you thought.
You had half expected maybe to wake up in Joe’s bed in the morning. Weirdly hoped that you would’ve sleepwalked right over into his room when you subconsciously heard him come home.
You had also half secretly wished that Joe would’ve made his way over and snuck into your bed upon finding his own cold and empty.
Neither happened.
Which was actually devastating.
But you had to pretend it wasn’t.
You were just flatmates, remember?
So you woke up in your own bed the same way you’d gone to sleep; by yourself, all alone, tired as fuck, and being stared at by Joe’s little plant.
Joe’s little plant that, deep sigh, desperately needed watering.
With a low grumble stuck in the back of your throat, you got up and out of bed and went to feed that little plant. Meanly whispered, “You don’t even belong here.” to it as you poured some water from the cup that held your toothbrush in your ensuite.
You immediately felt bad for it, and followed it up with a soft, “No, I’m sorry, you do. I just haven’t slept well. Sorry.”
Idiot.
Talking to a plant.
You needed some coffee.
Joe’s bedroom door was closed, which checked out, he was probably sleeping off a hangover. But halfway through breakfast, you heard the front door open and frowned in confusion. Your mind shot over who the fuck that could be besides Joe. Who else had a key beside both your mums?
But then, a sweaty, wet, rosy-cheeked Joe walked in, all out of breath, already pulling his T-shirt over his head that he then used to rub at his curls before pushing them back.
You nearly chocked on your bite of toast.
Joe smiled, still panting, and leant both arms on the island right next to you. Bent all the way down to do some stretching, and then stood up, only to lean over and take a bite from the piece of toast you were still holding.
If you’d have been more alert, you’d have moved it out of his way.
But, clearly, you were not more alert.
Not your fault, though. Clearly.
“Morning,” he grinned, breathing through flared nostrils as he chewed.
You comically blinked and checked your wrist that didn’t hold a watch for the time.
“What the... are you still drunk?”
Joe laughed as he opened the fridge, fishing out something to drink. He found a bottle of water and you watched him closely as he gulped some of it down.
“What time did you even get in?”
“Not that late,” Joe shrugged, “Two-ish, I think?”
You saw how he eyed the breakfast you were still holding, and yea, you weren’t that hungry anyway. You dropped whatever there was left onto your plate and slid it across. Joe happily went for the scraps.
“And already all alert and awake at,” you tapped your phone to actually check the time and grimaced. “Oh, never mind.”
It was nearing in on half 9.
Felt much earlier. Probably because you’d barely slept.
“You should try it,” Joe said, eyes on what he was about to shove into his mouth, all casual, like he wasn’t half naked and shiny with his own sweat. Wet curls trying to creep onto his forehead like their life depended on it. Cheeks all red and blotchy. “Come running with me sometime. Really makes you feel useful first thing.”
You scoffed at him despite how good he looked.
Shit. He looked so good.
But Joe had said that like you didn’t get up early to go to work five days a week. Like you didn’t leave him in his bed only to turn over and go back to sleep once you’d left.
“Um, I’ve been useful plenty, mind you.”
“Oh yea?”
“Watered your plant first thing.”
“My plant?”
“Your plant.”
Joe’s eyes scanned you for a second, and you almost grew shy.
“It’s in your room.”
And with that, Joe rounded the island and bent to push his face into your neck where he left a wet raspberry that made you squeal before he left for a shower.
You didn’t talk about how you’d slept in separate beds for the first time in ages. You didn’t mention how your arm had reached across several times in search of him, and how you’d felt stupid for it every single time you remembered he wasn’t there.
At least breakfast hadn’t been awkward.
He was insane for walking in like a wet dream, sure. But it was ultimately all fine.
And it wasn’t like you ever talked about anything ever before. If anything, this was as normal as it had ever been between the two of you.
So you went about your day. Had many important activities to do. All crucial business. Almost too much for just one girl, but you know, you were a real go getter.
You moved the little plant from your dresser to your windowsill where it would get some actual sunlight, and then fell asleep on the sofa to some bad TV.
Like you’d said; crucial business.
The evening came around fast, and after your shower, you found yourself sat on the floor by the foot of your bed. Your nose stung from the open bottle of nail polish remover by your feet, and you felt how it dried the absolute shit out of the skin of your toes as you’d forgotten to get the acetone free kind.
Across the hall you could hear Joe brush his teeth in the bathroom, and you silently prepared yourself for another night of shitty sleep.
You didn’t know if you could muster up a stupid excuse to sneak into his bed tonight, and after sleeping apart, it felt like there was a new threshold in place. One that was too high. If Joe wasn’t going to invite you over, you probably wouldn’t.
You’d moved onto your second foot when you heard footsteps coming closer, and then Joe appeared in the doorway to your bedroom.
Obviously, you immediately noticed him.
Didn’t mean that you also had to immediately acknowledge him, though.
You kept eyes on the task at hand, using a thumb to really push down on a cotton round that tinted pinker with every swipe.
Joe just stood there, leant against the side and you tried to imagine what Joe was looking at. You were sat on your rug like a dirty little gremlin, inhaling chemical fumes that would leave you loopy if you didn’t close that bottle soon.
You eventually cracked and went, “What?” without looking up.
You could feel Joe smile.
“Looks good there, in the window.” he commented, and that did make you look up, finally. You followed Joe’s gaze and turned to look at his crispy wave that you’d placed there.
You knew Joe was just making conversation, but you didn’t really know what to say. For a moment, it was quiet and you both just... look at the plant.
Then, you let your filter drop a second and surprised yourself when you said, “We got caught yesterday.”
You said it before you looked at him, and you were glad for it. When you did turn your head his way, he was already frowning in confusion. You were glad you hadn’t seen him go from a cheeky smile into that muddled glower.
“What do you mean?”
“I told her. Had to, tell her. She asked.”
You didn’t even say what you told her. You trusted he’d get it. So many things went unsaid with you, surely, this could be one of them.
You were right, because in true flatmate fashion, Joe didn’t ask.
Instead, you watched his face change back into a soft amusement as he lowly chuckled to himself. Looked down at his bare feet. Nodded and sighed. Visibly dropped his shoulders.
You didn’t understand what was funny.
But you also didn’t ask.
And then, Joe turned and just... left. Walked back over to his own bedroom.
What the fuck did that mean?
You should’ve just asked.
You didn’t. Of course.
You had a task to do. Two of your toenails were still red. And the skin of your fingers was starting to stain now too.
You finished up, cleared all your toenails of the chipped polish and kept your ears pricked up. You could hear Joe’s wardrobe doors slide a few times. The clinking of his metal hangers. Things being dropped to the floor.
Weird time for a wardrobe clear-out, but, you kind of got it. You’d just mentioned it for the first time... ever? In front of him. Said you’d spoken to a friend about it. You’d just told Joe you’d talked about something intimate and secret between the two of you that you had never even spoken about to each other. It was at least a little unsettling, wasn’t it?
You remembered the last time you’d gotten weird news at a similar time of day and had decided that you needed to clean the kettle at half 11 on a Thursday.
People coped how they coped.
It was fine.
You double checked if the rug had any pink marks on, were glad to find that it hadn’t even though you hadn’t exactly been very careful, when you heard Joe’s wardrobe doors slide shut.
You paused.
Waited for the noise of him getting into bed.
The rustling of his duvet.
But then he suddenly called, “You coming?” and despite yourself, you smiled. Tried to bite it into your mouth to hide it, but that made it only grow wider.
“One sec!” you called back and hoped that the excitement wasn’t so noticeable through your voice. You quickly went and made your bed, so it looked all tidy. Got rid of the dirty cotton rounds that stank up the whole room and turned off the lights before making your way over to Joe’s room.
There you saw that Joe had neatly stacked all of what was inside of his wardrobe in piles on the floor just outside the wardrobe.
Awful.
Men were messy and awful.
But men also had warm beds they wanted to share, and Joe was holding up his covers so you could go and sneak in, and so you didn’t waste any time. Snuck right in on your respective side of his bed.
And then... it was awkward.
Kind of. Maybe.
You both laid on your backs, arms above the covers, and stared up at the ceiling and... now what?
Why was this suddenly weird?
You could think of a few reasons, but they were nothing to delve into right now.
After a short moment, Joe turned his head to look at you, and so you did too. Looked at him. Saw how he looked at your shoulder. Your arms. Your chest, probably.
"Nice T-shirt."
Oh.
Yea, that was his.
“Looks good on you.”
If the goal was to make you smile, he had succeeded. With flying colours.
But then his face turned serious, and he said, “But you know, it probably would look a lot better on my bedro–”
“Shut the fuck up.”
You’d already rolled your eyes at him before he’d even finished the cheesy pick-up line and stopped him before he got to complete the punchline. It made him laugh, and you were quick to roll yourself half-way over him because how could you not kiss that pretty mouth shut?
And this was it.
This was the answer.
All hints at awkwardness vanished the moment you pressed your lips to his.
The moment Joe’s arms wrapped around you.
The moment he kept you in place with a tight grip, right on top of him.
The moment he let a hand wander to grab at your ass.
The moment he encouraged you to alleviate some pressure over one of his thighs.
When you felt how hard he was.
When you lost all control over your breathing.
Felt how Joe kept holding his, only to release it in shudders every couple of inhales.
You had never had actual sex before. No, wait, you did. What you had seen and felt and tasted of each other already did also count as actual sex. But it had all been hands, fingers, mouths. You'd never let Joe inside with more than his fingers. Twice his tongue.
Joe was just as aware.
He was happy to just make out for a while. Touch your tits. Help you ride his thigh. Have you sneak a hand into his boxers after, to make things wet and sticky inside of the cotton.
You know. Normal flatmate things.
But you kind of wanted more.
You’d never had more, and Joe’s hands were good. His fingers were nice. No complaints at all. But you wanted more.
Joe stilled when you pulled him out of his boxers. Pushed them down a little to reveal all of him.
"Are you–..." Joe whispered, and it was so soft, you could barely hear it over your own breathing.
You were already lining yourself up.
"Wait– are you sure you want– did you– ahmm..." Joe let his head fall back into his pillow and groaned when you used him to rub at yourself. To make yourself feel good a second.
Drove him fucking insane.
You liked that.
Liked how Joe so easily showed you the effect you had on him.
Liked how audible he was when you pressed him there a little harder. Moved him there a little faster. He almost sounded pained.
He started looking more and more like he did that morning when he’d come back from his run.
“Are you sure?” you teasingly asked when you moved him to where he could slip inside with just a simple thrust of his hips.
Joe made eye-contact and you laughed at the deadpan sarcastic glare you got. Of course he was sure, were you fucking joking?
Your laughter died fast as Joe did exactly what you wanted and pushed up, slipping inside.
“Shit.” You moaned.
“Yea, shit.” Joe confirmed.
And yea.
This could be a new flatmate thing.
Sure.
Riding your flatmate was fine.
So normal.
You cuddled on the sofa and had pizza together because it brought the both of you comfort.
And this brought comfort all the same, didn’t it?
Made your legs cramp a bit quicker, sure, but intimacy was intimacy and if you both liked it, then why not?
What was stopping you?
Joe came first.
Gargled, “Oh fuck!” before pulling you up to free himself, and it fucking went everywhere.
His fault, he panted, followed by a quick apology. He shouldn’t have held onto your waist to keep you in place and shouldn’t have started thrusting up into you like a fucking animal, he explained.
You didn’t mind.
Joe coming first didn’t feel like a mistake.
It was actually kind of hot that he got so into it that he couldn’t hold it back any longer. Maybe not the sperm exploding over fucking everything, but you knew Joe didn’t think this flatmate activity was done until you’d orgasmed as well. That was how it had worked up until then, anyway.
You expected him to maybe get his hands in between your legs, and you were already sort of moving into a position to make that easy work for him, but then Joe surprised you when he said, “Go get your toy.”
You froze and looked at him.
“No?” he asked when he saw your face.
“I– What? Have you snooped–... wait. Do not answer that.”
Joe had never snooped. Wasn’t a snooper. He still didn’t know where most the things in your kitchen were kept.
That meant that he’d heard it.
Mortifying.
But there was no time to feel mortified.
Joe nodded his head towards your room, casually said “Go get it, let me play.”
And, okay. Fine.
Joe was allowed to play.
Twice.
Joe got to play twice.
He pushed for a third time, but you had to put your foot down. Had to push his arms away from you pleadingly.
Too much.
Good though.
This was definitely  going to be a new flatmate thing. You’d personally see to it. Surely, Joe was on the same page.
You got a kiss to a sweaty temple and were instructed to put that toy back, go for a wee, have a sip of water, and come back to bed.
You did as you were told, body still buzzing when you got back in between his covers where you saw Joe reach for his phone and set an alarm.
Half 6.
“Are you going to get up early to feel ‘useful first thing’ again?” you joked, moving your hair to where it wouldn’t hurt when you lied down on Joe’s pillow.
Joe huffed a laugh and placed his phone on his bedside table before saying, “If I were, would you join me?”
“No.” you simply said as Joe turned around and pulled you closer. “But change it to a walk, and it’s a strong maybe from me.”
Joe cuddled up close and used his nose to push at your cheek until there was enough space there for him to burrow into your neck.
“No, you’re the worst to go on walks with,” he mumbled all close to your ear.
That tickled you, and you giggled as you acted outraged. “What?”
“You have zero spatial awareness,” said the boy who was giving you zero personal space at the moment. “You keep bumping into me every four steps, it’s so annoying.”
You laughed and tried pushing him away, but it only made him burrow deeper.
It was quiet for a second then.
Just his breathing in your ear.
Darkness surrounded you and, shit, it was so nice to have an arm over your waist. A leg pushed in between yours. You never wanted to sleep alone again.
Maybe you could just turn your room into a huge walk-in wardrobe.
Or an office.
Joe could read scripts and practice lines in there, and then this bedroom wouldn’t have clothes all over the floor like it did now.
Maybe you’d talk about it tomorrow.
You felt like you’d made a good attempt at communication today.
Baby steps, you know?
“Well,” you whispered, ready to let yourself drift off into a deep sleep. “Enjoy your run all alone by yourself, then, loser. Good night.”
You felt Joe’s stomach tense with silent laughter as he squeezed you even closer to him. You used a lone finger to trail soft lines up and down the arm that held you. It took mere seconds for you to feel how it gave him goosebumps there.
It was disgusting how you were about to fall asleep with a smile plastered onto your face.
Absolutely vile.
You fucking loved it.
“M’not going for a run,” Joe then replied on the back end of a sigh, of a sleepy satisfied hum, words slightly slurry with how close to falling asleep he already was.
This was the good stuff.
All warm.
All cosy, toasty and so stupidly comfortable.
His face in your neck and your body surrounded by all of his.
Sheer bliss.
“I’m moving tomorrow.”
---
The Taglisted
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angelkissiies · 1 year
Text
pancakes for dinner
abby anderson x reader
cw : love confessions , anxiety , hockey!abby , girly!reader (glitter n pink fan) , modern!au
wc : 2.5 (HOW DID IT GET THIS LONG)
a / n : i never meant for this to be so long but i adore a love confession n hockey!abby ,, anyways ! enjoy ! also if you see grammatical issues SQUINT i didnt proofread this !!!
based off of emotions i get from THIS song ,, and some ugly dude being mean to abs on twitter ..
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You stared down at the blank sheets of paper, fluffy fountain pen twirling in between your fingers as you let your playlist restart. You had so much to say, that you almost didn’t couldn’t find a way to say it, the itching anxiety pulling at your heart as you glanced at the clock. ‘7:38 PM’. Her flight was landing in a couple hours, you internally kicked yourself for waiting so long, but finally made the first move to start writing. 
‘Bee, Abby, 
This seems extremely silly right now and I kinda want to throw up at the idea of you actually seeing this’ 
You let out a sigh, striking out the line before continuing. 
‘I need you to know some things, some things I've been meaning to tell you for, well, forever. We’ve been friends for as long as I can remember and as much as I don't want to risk losing that, I can’t not tell you. I’ve been very clear about my sexuality and you’ve been so supportive of me– but I can't let you set me up with any more of your hockey friends (you’re probably wondering why this is soo important but just keep reading.)
Don’t get me wrong, Nora was a lovely date– opened the car door for me and everything, but it just wasn’t right. I know you and as you’re reading this you’re probably shaking your head and muttering something about ‘you just didn’t give her a chance,’ but just stay with me here. 
I have gone on dates and I have tried all the dating apps, I’ve even had my fair share of hookups–
but Abby, I can’t stop thinking about you. 
From the day I met you, I think I've always known. You have been all I've wanted and I really understood that this year, I mean seeing you hooking up with all of those girls made me jealous– as stupid as it sounds, and no, It wasn’t because they were prettier than me or something, but it was because they had you.’ 
Your stomach churned as you halted, taking an unsteady breath, your finger moving to skip the song that had come on– ‘Heather’ by Conan Gray being in bad taste for the moment. You had the urge to rip the paper apart, hiding all evidence of the confession of your love, and nestle into your bunk bed– waiting for the inevitable knock on your door when she arrived back, begging to chat about her travels. Though, you remained still– chewing on the flesh of your lip before forcing yourself to continue. 
‘I’m saying this now because I fear, if not now then never. Your absence gave me a chance to figure out my feelings about you without worrying about you accidentally finding out. I needed to overcome my fear of losing you and came to realize that I can't, so writing this all out is seriously freaking me out. ‘ 
A ringing from your phone made you jump, the music pausing briefly as you checked the caller ID, the air caught in your lungs as you realized who it was. “Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit.” You chanted, staring at the little picture of her that accompanied the tense ringing in the now quiet room. ‘Shit!” You huffed, at last, letting your finger swipe across the screen to accept before placing her on speaker. 
“Hey!” Her groggy voice rang out, accompanied by the loud bustle of what sounded like a crowd. “Did I wake you up or something?” 
You let out a small, confused noise before answering– hand shaking slightly. “No, no. Just doing some work. What about you, you sound like shit.” You teased, taking a deep breath to gain your composure. The last thing you needed was to queue her on to anything, letting her remain clueless for as long as you possibly could. 
Abby snorted, rolling her eyes as she pulled her heavy suitcase behind her through the crowds of people. “No, just tired, they managed to get us on an earlier plane at the last minute– I had planned to sleep all day before the flight but surprise, surprise.” She hummed, watching as her team slowly began to disappear out of the double doors. “Anyways, because I'm getting back so early, I wanted to see if you’d be up for a movie tonight.” 
You felt time slow down, eyes shooting to the unfinished letter on your desk, you could barely find it in yourself to respond– feeling borderline dizzy at the rapid thumping of your heart, “Y-yeah, that sounds great. What are we watching?” She wasn’t supposed to be back for hours, and now you're getting told that she was already here? That you had to finish your declaration of love, now?! 
“I was thinking we could see that new avatar movie, what was it called?” 
“Way of water.” You spoke quietly, putting your pen down so hard on the sheet of paper– you were almost sure it was gonna rip. “That sounds great, when will you be here? I need to get ready.” Your pen began scribbling down the rest of your thoughts, handwriting less neat than it had been before. You didn’t know if you cared though, the thought of being caught in the middle of doing this was more mortifying than being articulate. 
“Say..” Abby trailed off, pulling up her hoodie sleeve to peer at her watch. 8:20 PM. “Does 8:45 sound good? Airports not far from campus.” 
You could’ve choked, forcing yourself to nod– even though she couldn’t see you. “Yeah, perfect. I’ll meet you downstairs, I’m sure you wanna change.” 
“Finally, a girl who gets me.” She joked, pushing the double doors open, and glancing around for the team bus. A chill rolled down her spine as she pushed the varsity jacket closed, blocking any more chill. “I've gotta go, I'm getting on the bus– but I’ll see you soon.” 
“See you soon!” 
You practically threw the pen down, doing a quick once over of the letter before folding it neatly– placing it inside its designated pink envelope. Your heart was racing, making you sweat slightly, as you slid out from your chair. You’d planned this all out so perfectly, yet, here you were– sliding on your crocs as you exited your dorm in an attempt to make this confession as seamless as possible. You were terrified of the possibility of her saying she didn’t feel the same, terrified that she wouldn't want to be friends anymore, terrified that she was still in love with her ex. Just terrified. 
The hallway passed in flashes, your mind too preoccupied to take in anything else as you speed walked to her door. It was as it usually was, empty, with the exception that her roommate had drawn a little moth in the corner of the whiteboard next to the number indicator. She was a neat girl, Ellie, but it always confused you at how they’d come to be assigned together– seeing as Abby was majoring in sports medicine and Ellie in physics. You shook the thoughts away, practically beating down the door with how hard you knocked. 
A few moments passed and you heard the soft pattering of feet on the carpet before the door swung open, a very disgruntled girl standing before you. “Dude, I literally have an exam tomorrow, what do you want?” She huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. From all the times she'd met you, she was used to the intrusion– almost finding it funny how often you came by. “Abby isn’t here.” 
You nodded, pushing the envelope forward, watching as she looked at it and then back at you. “Can you put this on her bed? Just leave it there, that's all.” You gushed, glancing at the digital clock on her desk before dropping it into her now outstretched hand. 8:33 PM. “I have to go, so just please make sure she gets it okay?” Your feet were already moving, taking large backward steps into the hall before turning on your heel– leaving a slightly confused, slightly curious Ellie peering down the hall as you disappeared around the corner. 
The door to your dorm was still slightly ajar, making it easier for you to slip back in and begin changing out of your – what you’d begun to call – lesbian pajamas. The reason was that they had little hearts in varying shades of pink and orange dotting the fabric. By the time you’d had a chance to even pull on your shoes, It was already pushing 8:40PM– meaning that any second Abby would be passing your dorm to go change and you’d be practically bouncing off the walls with pent-up anxiety. 
Abby trudged up the stairwell, making a mental note to email the maintenance guys about the elevator, her suitcase hovering just above to not smack against the concrete. She tossed her braid over her shoulder, using her free hand to push the metal door open, stepping out into the warmth of the hallway. A soft sigh left her mouth as she paused, eyes fluttering to the door that bore your name in glitter peel-and-stick letters, a small smile pulling at her chapped lips– internally debating on stopping to talk to you, but coming to the conclusion that she’d just come back in a couple minutes. It always popped into her mind, upon thinking about you, she practically had to drag herself away from you to get anything done. 
As she passed by your door, she heard soft music– particularly a song she’d heard many, many times before. It made her heart skip slightly, upon the realization that you’d actually started listening to the songs she recommended, that being more than a small victory in her books. She glanced up at your whiteboard, it being pretty empty besides the few hearts you’d forgotten to erase from valentines day, before uncapping a marker to leave a tiny drawing of two girl stick figures in the mass of hearts. 
You were lying face down on your pillows, biting back the screams that tempted your lips as you waited for the alarm on your phone to sound– the idea of seeing Abby making your stomach twist into uncomfortable knots. The words of ‘Pancakes for Dinner’ by Lizzy Mcalpine permeated your thoughts, making you sigh aloud, she made it seem so easy. Too easy. You just wanted to say all of what you were feeling to her, see her face when she realized, and know instantly whether or not your friendship was over. The waiting made it all so much worse. You sat up, lifting your phone just as the annoying beeping started, making you groan. 
The music stopped as you swiped off of the app, pulling yourself up to sit on the edge of your bed– sliding your crocs over the pink fluffy socks you’d slipped on in spite of the dropping temperatures. “You can do this. You can definitely do this.” You whispered, coming to stand before grabbing the dorm keys from your bedside table. You couldn’t back out now, though you desperately wanted to, shuffling out of your room and into the hallway– already missing the comfort of your room. 
Ellie had greeted Abby at the door, the realization of the letter finally clicking in her head, an annoying smug grin on her lips. It was beyond confusing for the blonde, giving her an odd look as she let her suitcase fall on the floor in front of her bed. “What is wrong with you?” She finally asked, digging through her drawer, feeling the auburns eyes burning a hole into the back of her head. “You’re being weird, er, weirder than usual.” 
“Nothing, nothing. You have, uh, mail.” She coughed, covering a small chuckle, turning back to her computer as she sat down– keeping an eye on the pink envelope sitting perfectly on the dark surface of her bedspread. 
Abby knitted her brows together, following the girl's gaze to an envelope she automatically recognized as yours. How did she know? Well, you were the only girl on campus who used pink envelopes and she didn’t think that another could have manifested in the short time she was away. She instantly lost all interest in what she was doing, practically tripping over her bags to get to it. “Did she say what it was about?” She asked, turning the little thing in her hands, noticing the little star sticker you’d used to seal the envelope. 
Ellie shook her head, putting her hands up as if to say ‘i dunno’ before looking back down to her work– leaving Abby to tear open the pink paper hastily. 
You sat outside on the bench, tapping the toes of your shoe onto the pavement as you waited, jumping at every noise of the door– hoping, praying, that she even came. It had been so long since you’d felt this kind of scared, less schoolgirl more double homicide, as you pondered what could possibly come of this. The best case scenario being she felt the same way, and the worst case scenario was that she hated your guts and went around telling everyone that you were just some weird girl with a crush on her– that wasn’t likely though, seeing as that wasn't Abby. She’d never be so harsh. The reality was that she’d let you down easy, slowly but surely ghosting you in the process. You didn’t know what scared you more, good or bad news. 
The loud squeaking of the hinges drove you from your thoughts, making you glance behind you, a strained breath catching in your throat as you saw her– glancing around before she saw you. “Abby, hey,--” You began, standing to meet her in the middle, hands wringing nervously behind you. 
The blonde didn’t speak, her hands coming up to cup your cheeks, dipping down to press a needy kiss to your lips. Nothing had ever been so important, the letter being more than enough to send her practically flying out of her dorm to find you, she’d been waiting for the day she’d come to admit her feelings out loud– though as she felt you melt into her, hands now bunched in her jacket, she knew words were unnecessary. You’d been what she wanted this entire time, all the girls and the parties and the one-night stands being in spite of her budding feelings. She’d been trying to get you off her mind, protecting the friendship that meant more than anything to her. Your words flashed through her mind, making her smile slightly against your lips. 
You pulled away, taking a much-needed gulp of air, before looking up at the burly woman. The light was blocked out by her head, making a kind of halo around her. She looked beautiful, she always looked beautiful, but this was different. “Abby..” You breathed, eyes meeting her own. “Are you–?” 
Abby nodded, using her thumbs to caress the blushed flesh of your cheeks. “I am.” 
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