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#oh and if you have a problem with this then feel free to sound off in the notes so i can block you
rauchendesgnu · 2 days
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"Would you like a seat?" Gerry asks over his shoulder as Sam follows him deeper into the apartment. "Only if it isn't a bother," Sam says despite the throbbing in his hip. "Oh, it's no problem at all. Let me just--" The young goth rushes ahead into some sort of studio, clearly expecting Sam to follow. Every spot in the room is either occupied with a painting, or painted on, or splattered, or filled with utensils, tools, and other stuff that is necessary for art. Gerry sweeps a pile of pencil sketches from a chair and offers it to Sam, who sits gratefully, eyes still wandering over the atelier in overwhelmed amazement. "I can make some tea?" Gerry offers. "Oh," Sam says with an awkward smile. "I'm more one for coffee." "Do you mind if I make one for myself, then?" "No, go ahead." The sounds of an electric kettle being filled and switched on reaches Sam, whose eyes fall onto the sketches. He leans a bit closer to get a better look. It's not very polite, to go snooping into the drawings of a potential friend, but he can't help himself. He's always been so damn curious. The first sketch shows a short, thin man with dark hair that is starting to go grey despite his young but tired face. His brown skin is covered in scars and his eyes are glowing. Sam blinks, and for a second he feels like the drawing blinks back at him. He quickly moves the sketch to the bottom of the stack and shakes his head. It's the sleep deprivation. He's not starting to see movement in traditional sketches. The next few sketches show the same man, over and over again, eyes blazing, mouth set in a thin line, exhaustion weighing down a face that could once have been called handsome. He's not the only one, though. There's a second man, tall and broad, with red hair and a dusting of freckles on his nose and cheeks. He's barely recognisable in the fog that surrounds him that gets thicker with every new sketch Sam discovers. The last one is that of a man who wouldn't have looked out of place in Pride and Prejudice (as written by Cassandra Austen), with a neatly pressed collar and a cravat, as well as jewellery in the form of eyes. His grey eyes are intense, piercing Sam through the page. Sam is about to put the sketches back when a piece of paper slips, and his heart stops. The woman on the paper is a detailed pencil drawing of Celia. It's almost scary how perfect that sketch catches her likeness. Surely Gerry would have needed more than one look at her to draw her so realistically? Sam fights the wave of jealousy that wants to overtake him. It's none of his business who Celia meets in her free time. There is only that one sketch of her, and as Sam finds the last page, he's a bit disappointed to discover that there is just two sentences scribbled in nearly illegible handwriting.
The maze is sharp on my mind. The angles cut me when I try to think.
They are underlined with so much force that the pencil nearly broke through the paper. In the kitchen, the kettle turns off, and Sam quickly places the pages back in order. "Gerry," he says when his host returns, mug of tea in hand, "who are these people you sketched?" Gerry glances over his shoulder, then shrugs. "Now that you say it...I have no idea. These are from a while ago. Why, did I accidentally draw someone you know?" He says it with a smile, like it's a joke between artists. Did I accidentally draw you? Sam's gaze drifts back over the man with the glowing eyes. "I don't know," he says softly. "I don't know."
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icannotgetoverbirds · 11 months
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saw an exclusionist post so here's a reminder
specifically in reference to transmasc lesbians and trying to draw lines in the sand on who can and can't claim the lesbian label, about how being a lesbian is exclusive of loving men, with someone referring to the people they're attempting to exclude as "fandom gremlin transmascs and neo-mogai crazies."
I don't have the spoons for a proper response but i do feel like i need to make something clear.
on this blog we support fucky genders, fandom gremlin transmascs, and neo-mogai crazies. reblog if u love ur fellow fandom gremlin and neo-mogai crazy queers.
#tw ableist language#tw exclusionism#byrd chirps#oh and if you have a problem with this then feel free to sound off in the notes so i can block you#there's a fucking trans genocide happening right now i will NOT tolerate exclusionary politics around good-faith identities#also why the fuck do the labels matter? we're all a bunch of filthy queer degenerates to the people that want us dead anyways!#if you police good faith identities you're a fucking fed and functionally conservative#and yeah if we wanna work together on something basic and/or general i can play nice with you#but there's no way in hell that i'm just gonna allow y'all into our spaces just so you can try and push me out!#if you're a lesbian and you don't want to date enby/genderqueer/multigender folk that's fine!#nobody is saying in good faith that you have to date us! do you realize who you sound like right now?#gee i wonder who else argues for pushing nonconforming people out of their spaces because they think we're predatory -#- and expect them to date us? i fucking wonder!#if you can't handle gender fuckery then don't make it my fucking problem! i'm not out here making it yours!#and no me existing and sharing labels with you is not 'making it your problem'#look you have the general lesbian space. we have the subset of genderqueer/transmasc lesbian space.#you cannot claim to be supportive of enben (including nb lesbians) if that support doesn't extend to genderqueer/multigender folks!#anyways rant over im not here to fucking argue about my right to self determination#that is specifically what i came to tumblr to AVOID.#not gonna link op because i don't wanna put them on blast just.#op if ur reading this. skedaddle. to the person i was following that put it on my dash. skedaddle.#to the person who they reblogged it from. skedaddle.#out. now. i am sweeping you off my front porch with a broom. you are not welcome on this blog#oh and the person who i'm quoting from the notes? that goes double for you. out.#inclusivity#intersectionality
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kentopedia · 6 months
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.𖥔 ݁ ˖ LOOK, MOM! — nanami kento
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yuuji accidentally calls you mom
contents: nanami x fem!reader, husband nanami hehe, this is very silly and random and stupid, fluff, nanami & reader are yuuji's adoptive parents fr, words: 1059
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“nanamin!” yuuji waves at the figure approaching from behind you, a flashy grin appearing on his face as he glances at the blonde man over your shoulder. “i didn’t know you were coming by today!”
kento's hair sweeps over his forehead in the wind, a few strands coming free as he heads towards you. it's a brisk day, and he has two hot coffees in his hands that he'd picked up after his mission.
a bead of sweat drips down yuuji's temple, and he wipes it with his sleeve, still breathing heavily. you'd spent the last hour training together, pushing his physical capabilities. gojo had been busy recently, between all the missions and his conversations with the higher ups.
so, of course, you'd volunteered to teach the newest student when he couldn't. quickly, he became your favorite of the three first years.
“i’m in between assignments.” kento hands you the coffee, places a gentle hand on your lower back with a smile that is hardly there. “mind if i steal my wife away for a bit?”
yuuji shrugs, his face still bright as he glances between the two of you. ever since he’d found out two of his favorite sorcerers were together, he’d hardly shut up about it.
“no problem. i’m going to meet up with fushiguro anyway.” he brushes the dirt off his pants, waving to the two of you.
“good job today, yuuji!” grateful for something to warm you up in the chilly air, you take a sip of the coffee. it’s perfect, as always, just what you needed. “you’re improving a lot!”
he grins, proud of his accomplishments. “thanks, mom! see you later!”
there's an elongated moment of silence.
you choke on your coffee as kento stiffens beside you, watching while yuuji comes to a skittering halt.
all three of you freeze. you cough, clearing your throat, and kento's hand, steady on your back, has stilled. “yuuji—“
“oh,” the teenager says, his face turning bright red as he realizes what he’s called you. he glances between the two of you, embarrassment evident. “i’m so sorry. i didn’t mean to—“
though, you don’t give yuuji enough time to protest. within seconds, you’ve gathered him up in your arms, squeezing the younger boy to your chest. “kento, we have a son!”
you feel yuuji tense, before he relaxes, and throws his arms around you in an even tighter hug. there’s some sort of thanks resting there. he laughs, carefree, a sound you never want to be taken away from the boy who manages to shine so brightly in such a dark world.
kento stares at you, folds his glasses up in his pocket, as if to show you both how unimpressed he is. “do we?” he asks, lips flat, though, you see through the facade to the amusement hidden in his irises. “i'm certain i would’ve remembered something like that.”
you make a face at him, covering yuuji’s ears dramatically. “oh, don’t listen to your dad, yuuji. he’s old, he doesn’t know what he’s saying.”
kento blinks, and then sighs, wrinkling his nose. though, when he sees yuuji’s wide grin, his eager expression, he decides to play along.
“well, then... there must be a lapse in my memory." kento crosses his arms over his chest as he regards the two of your extensively, searching for something. "that would certainly explain the striking resemblance between us.” he says drily.
yuuji laughs, a loud snort. he looks nothing like either of you, but you’re not sure he’s ever gotten to witness kento's sarcastic sense of humor, the one that not everyone really gets.
“exactly!” yuuji quips back to kento’s blank expression. "everyone tells me i have the same smile as my dad!
kento’s trying hard not to let yuuji win that one, but you can see the slight wrinkle around his eye, the tiny quirk of his lips. beside the pink haired boy, you choke out a few giggles, covering your mouth.
“yes," kento nods, solemn. "i’ve heard that as well.”
"so you do know how to make jokes, nanamin!" yuuji shouts, nearly jumping in the air as he cheers. "i can't wait to tell fushiguro this."
kento rolls his eyes, but yuuji’s so pleased, and he releases you, his eyes soft and bright as he pulls away.
though he doesn’t say it, doesn't thank you for anything, you can tell he’s grateful. itadori yuuji may be happy with his life as it is now, may have found a home within the friends he’s made at the high school, but you know he misses his grandfather. sometimes, perhaps, he even longs for the conventional family he never really got to have.
you ruffle his hair, the pink strands catching between the cracks of your fingers. “tell him i said hello too.”
yuuji nods, stuffing his hands in his pocket as he steps away. “i will!” his cheerful gaze is pinned on your husband, a secretive smile making a home on his lips. “bye, dad.”
kento shakes his head, and sighs again, though you can tell, a part of him is touched to have won so much of yuuji's admiration. “have a good evening, itadori.”
you watch the young boy scurry away, hands in his pockets as he braces himself against the cold.
"you should be nicer to your son, kento."
kento snorts, throwing an arm over your shoulder as he brings you closer to him. "i am nice to him," he says, kissing your temple softly. "a little hard on him, maybe, but i just don't want anything bad to happen to him."
you soften, look up at him with warm eyes, and you squeeze the hand that is resting on your shoulder. "i know," you say, your heart clenching. you've thought about it before, thought of kento with a tiny child that looks just like him, cradled against his chest. thought of him with a little girl whose hair he can braid, a little boy he can raise to be a gentleman.
but you hadn't talked about it; you'd always thought your life was too busy, too dangerous for children.
"you'd make a good dad, ken," you say, your cheeks flushed as you grin at him.
kento's eyes flash. "really?" an array of emotions scurries across his features before he leans down, kissing you softly. "is this your way of telling me you want a baby, sweetheart?" his voice deepens as he whispers against your lips, smiling. "because i'm more than happy to give you one."
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yuellii · 6 months
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PLEASE ( DON’T ) BE MY WINGWOMAN !
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𝐈𝐍 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐇 his female best friend tries to help him win your love, but knowing her, it all goes wrong
feat. lyney, neuvillette, ayato ( separate )
note. gn reader, features : lynette, furina, ayaka. hello i am officially back and also officially 21 !! :]
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LYNEY.
“Oh, woe is me! Please assist, my dearest sister!” The magician sat sprawled atop the couch quite dramatically, backhand over his forehead feigning feverish feelings. “Whatever shall I do when the God of Romance is plotting against a hopeless romantic, such as I?”
“What’s wrong this time?” By contrast, his sister’s voice proved no fluctuations, tone lacking the honeyed sound he needed for sympathy. Instead of catering to his sorrows, she instead sipped lightly at her tea, for it was far more relaxing than her brother’s ‘woes.’
Still, Lyney sighed. “The love of my life—my soulmate!” he cried out. “How should I win the affections of my other half, when I can’t even grasp the scale of romantic favor?”
“Desserts.”
Lyney sat up. “I beg your pardon?”
“Give desserts,” Lynette shrugged. “Everyone likes desserts.” This reasoning totally made the most sense to her.
She watched as Lyney started at her blankly for just a moment, and then he inhaled sharply. “So I should… use desserts as my gift…” With each passing word, Lynette watched as a staggering excitement in his voice grew tenfold. “And then, if I keep giving their favorite treats”—Lyney gasped—“they’ll start to associate the sweetness with me! Oh, Lynette, you’re a genius!”
Lynette blinked at him. That strategy explanation was not what she said at all, but whatever. Not her problem.
But when Lyney dragged her by the hand to go purchase desserts, and then forced her to sit down at the cafe just to watch him gift treats to you, then maybe it was her problem.
“A very special dessert!” he presented, and Lynette sat with disinterest as she watched your eyes light up at his cheap old appearance trick. “For a very special person.” And now came her own eye roll—caused by the way Lyney giggled to himself at the end of his own sentence.
Maybe it was charming ( but personally Lynette didn’t see the appeal ), because there was a sparkle that appeared in your eyes in admiration of him. And suddenly, Lynette didn’t understand why he was trying to win your love at all, because it’s clear to her that he’s already won it.
“This is for me?” she heard you say. “This is actually my favorite! Oh, Lyney, you shouldn’t have!”
“Don’t even worry,” she watched Lyney wave off. “It was given to me for free at the shop”—Huh?—“and I have no space for it”—What was he…?—“so I thought you might like it!”
Lynette blinked to herself. Then she blinked to herself again. And then one more time, and now Lyney was back to her spot with you no longer in sight. “How did I do?” Lyney excitedly questioned her. “A good start, right? Step one of your idea to get my crush to become obsessed with me is complete!”
Okay first of all, that was literally not her idea, but maybe she should’ve communicated it better. And second, “Why did you lie? That dessert wasn’t free—You specifically bought it to give to them.”
Lyney immediately raised a finger with that confident smirk of his. “Because, my dear sister,” he began, “it’s called playing hard to get.”
If she could sigh, she would. “You can’t be serious.”
“I am! And I’m taking this game very seriously, too. Do you know how hard it is to keep my cool when I’m around the love of my life?!”
“Playing hard to get just makes it harder to get someone, Lyney. They might lose interest and move on.” But still, Lyney insisted. And still, Lynette just silently rolled her eyes.
The next time this happened was literally only a day later. So much for playing “hard to get,” she supposes. Perhaps Lyney didn’t quite fully understand the scope of how suspicious it was to offer you another “free dessert” only a day later. Or, he was just so lovestruck he absolutely could not wait to talk to you again.
Lynette decided the answer to be the latter option.
And once again, he claimed not to buy this dessert on his own, and Lynette did not miss the obvious eyebrow raise you gave her brother this time. You were still grateful since it was your favorite, of course, but it was rather clear you were beginning to question this. Lynette sighed to herself.
“Lynette!” Lyney called excitedly once he left you. “Oh, dear sister, did you see it this time? She stayed with me a bit longer—grabbing the plate much more slowly. She must have been at the start of falling in love with—!” Lyney stopped when he saw the empty seat. “Uh, Lynette?”
Farther away, you suddenly yelped in surprise, almost dropping the plated dessert in your hands.
“Sorry,” Lynette mumbled. Oops, she didn’t mean to scare you. But… maybe appearing in your field of sighs so suddenly once you turned a corner and coming from a darkened alleyway was not the most subtle.
“It’s alright,” you brushed of. “Oh, you must be Lynette, right? Lyney’s sister!”
“Correct.” Ah, how would she bring this up? She was never really the best with words… And definitely not when she had to use a lot of them. “Um, my brother,” she started. “Don’t mind him being weird.”
At the mention of her brother being weird ( perhaps she should defend him, but whatever, he was being weird. ), you seemed to relax. “Yeah…” you trailed off. “He’s been giving me these desserts lately—didn’t seem too coincidental that he keeps getting them for ‘free’… Especially since they’re, um, not even having a promotion right now.”
Again, if Lynette could wack her brother on the head right now, she would.
“He likes you.”
The sudden shock on your face tells Lynette that maybe she shouldn’t have said that so bluntly. Or that she shouldn’t have said that. At all.
“You’re a very dear friend to him,” she correct. Oh, wait, but she didn’t want to completely shut off the idea of romance. Correct it again, quick. “Or, very dear person… Yeah.”
You stayed quiet for a moment, probably trying to process the amount of confessions and corrections she just shot at you. Archons, you probably thought her and her brother were so weird. Unfortunately, she couldn’t blame you.
“Thanks, Lynette,” you said, and she noticed your feet shift to walk away. “Actually, I think I’ll keep that in mind for next time.”
Well, Lyney certainly hoped you would. She just silently watched as you walked off. But she wasn’t worried, no. As long as you spoke of this “next time,” Lynette was sure her brother would eventually succeed with you, even if he was being weird at this game.
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NEUVILLETTE.
The thing that gets Furina the most excited—absolutely elated, much shown in the way she kicks her feet and patters her fingers—is the fact that her dear Iudex has no idea he’s so in love with you.
To not only her, but also the rest of Fontaine, word is quick to spread with the simple way his feet always end up turned in your direction, or how lips curve a slight upwards motion when he speaks to you. Or, the way his feelings of admiration brings out the colors in his eyes, and the shyer tone in which he laughs along with you.
And Furina, being the bestest of friends she certainly is, only wants what’s best for the Chief Justice, truly! It’s such a downer seeing him be a quiet, unsociable, hard-to-get-along-with loner all the time. And so, the moment she catches wind of his feelings, she is more than quick to come up with a way to loop the two of you together.
She pats herself in the back. She’s confident that he’ll totally thank her for all her efforts later.
This confidence still yet remains even when she has you standing up nervously on trial, wide eyes a bit scared to be accused of a crime by the Hydro Archon herself. And Neuvillette atop his seat looks exasperated, much so in a way the audience is always eyeing him with fluttering eyes and chattering whispers—because the Iudex is looking at you with such a public display of concern that he has never been known to show another on trial.
Oh, she could already see the Steambird’s morning headlines! Chief Justice Neuvillette casts eyefuls of worry towards the accused?! Or, The Iudex’s rumored lover: Accused by Lady Furina?! —Oh, oh! She was so excited!
Amidst her internal giggles was when Neuvillette’s cane came hammered down on the wooden floor of his balcony seat, silencing every voice in the Opera Epiclese. “Furina,” his voice scatters as firm as ever, though the Archon could some people gasp to themselves—Ah, she could always trust her people to spot even the slightest difference in his voice; He was clearly angrier today! “I believe you have some explaining to do.”
“Is it not obvious, my dear Iudex?” she loudly proclaimed as if acting in a performance. Her voice was playful and teasing as always, and she could tell Neuvillette was much more annoyed by it than usual today. “I am pressing charges against a darling citizen, yet a criminal over here…!”
And that was when she threw the back of her hand over her forehead for dramatic effect, making you only more nervous upon your stand. Such an increase in your fear was clearly noticeable to the Iudex, of course, as he immediately spoke to silence the Archon accusing you.
“And what would those charges entail, Furina?”
There was a sudden glare in his eyes, almost threatening. But oh well, nothing he could do—She knew he would stick by the law and allow her to make her claim anyways. This was so easy, she could almost laugh to herself!
“For…”
Oh, celebration was already at the back of her mind!
“Murder!”
…Holy shit. Oh Archons. She was supposed to say theft. “Theft,” for stealing Neuvillette’s heart. But instead she slipped up and said murder.
Oh, she can’t take that back now. But… But no worries! She was the beloved Archon that had absolutely no issues performing for her people—ergo, she could totally come up with a new plan! Certainly, a single-word slip-up will surely not mess up her entire pickup line here.
“Yes, you heard me,” she played along, hands balling to fists and dramatically sitting at her hips. “Murder!”
“Furina!” Neuvillette silenced from his place below on the podium. Never before has she seen his facial expression this angered. There was a furrow between his brows that betrayed his usually calm and emotionless look—and aw, she thought it was so romantic for him to show these emotions so outwardly just for you! The audience must love his display of passion right now—all to defend your honor! “What is the meaning of this?” his voice boomed.
Furina cleared her throat. “Murder…” she began to make her case against you. You, who looked up at her so fearfully. She almost felt bad. “For… For breathing…!” Wait, that’s not what she meant. “No, no, like murder… of breath— of my breath— no, of Neuvillette’s breath, I mean—” Okay, at this point, she just needed to spit something out. And that was when she raised a finger, pointing it accusingly down at you and making her claim: “You killed Neuvillette!”
The next instance was filled with a silence so deafeningly powerful that she felt her own stomach churn and her knees grow shaky. Well, this was definitely an embarrassment she hopes to never feel again.
Surely, this silence wasn’t awkward enough for her land the finishing blow…?
“Like, you stole his breath away…” she tried. “So you technically killed him.”
Okay maybe it was time for her to shut up.
Neuvillette’s face; oh, he looked absolutely furious. This was not the picture-perfect sight of cherry tomato blushing she was hoping for here. And you: a horror-stricken disbelief. Your mind looked like it was racing to comprehend both being charged with such a serious crime, and having the Chief Justice just randomly outed in public for… having a crush on you…?
Meanwhile Furina stood still in her usual place, just about ready to curl up and die from her failed attempt at a love confession. But before that, perhaps Celestia heard her prayers.
The audience pretty much erupted in girlish screams and whispers—all those watchful citizens of Fontaine who treated your relationship with Neuvillette like the hottest topic of the century, like the storybook romance they were reading obsessively. And now, Furina watched—watched as your expression contorted to slow realization that maybe your Archon wasn’t exactly lying about Neuvillette’s feelings, and that maybe almost the entire nation was already romanticizing you two.
And then, there: that was when Furina watched as your face blew up an expression of pure embarrassment, all the fear being completely wiped away. Then Furina could almost die when she turned her gaze to Neuvillette—who was still watching you very intently—and how the ends of his ears turned a blushing red.
Oh, this view was priceless. Once again, perfect Focalors saves the day!
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KAMISATO AYATO.
Thoma clicked his tongue. “Tall and awkward.” He squinted his eyes. “Practically unrecognizable in Inazuma despite your status.” Then, he tilted his head. “Absolutely terrible at small talk.”
Finally, Thoma nodded his head. “Yep, you don’t have a chance, my Lord.”
Thoma yelped as a paper fan hit his shoulder, and that was when Ayaka slid at the seat next to him. He made a quick apology to her, but when Ayaka looked across the table, she saw how her older brother didn’t seem quite phased at Thoma’s mean evaluation at all.
Instead, he seemed to be really considering what was told to him.
“Oh, brother,” Ayaka caught his attention. “Don’t listen to Thoma, he was only being mean. Personally, I think you have a good chance at winning this date!”
“No, no, Thoma might be right,” Ayato pondered. Aw, Ayaka didnt like it when he doubted himself. “All of those traits may make this date go horribly wrong—I might end up appearing as undesirable…”
Ayaka frowned. She may not have a love life of her own, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t watching her brother’s love life like an Inazuman drama act or like a romantic storybook. And the fact that Ayato has downright fallen tremendously hard for you—who Ayaka also loved dearly, and who she admired so much—makes her pray to the Archons every night for your relationship to set sail.
So Ayato scoring this first date with you was already a big deal on its own. Only… He wasn’t quite sure what date plan would make him the most appealing man to be courting you.
Of course, who else could he turn to, other than his darling best friend and sister? Ayaka certainly had no expertise in this, but if there was one thing…
“Brother, please take this!” Across the table, she shoved a stack of just a few papers, slightly faded and lightly wrinkled, into his hands. He blinked in surprise at them for a moment before squinting at the rushed handwriting that clearly did not belong to his sister. “The Traveler gave this to me; It’s a recipe for a pizza dish from Mondstadt!
And that was how she ended up here, watching with Thoma from the sidelines of the estate as Ayato gives you the friendliest smile can force upon himself as he offers to make the both of you food. Now, the last time Ayaka tried this, she blew up the oven with the Traveler in earshot. But surely, she knew her brother had much better survival skills than she did, and there was no way he would ruin a perfectly easy pizza recipe.
But then Thoma almost burst out laughing from their secluded hiding spot, and that was when she noticed her brother bringing out not one, but instead two platters of pizza. A rather odd aroma in the air. Oh.
“I thought we’d spice things up!” they heard Ayato say to you, clasping his gloved hands together and regaining his weird, excited smile and that equally weird, excited tone in his voice. Oh brother… “One pizza is normal, and the other pizza has random toppings I threw on it—as a taste test!”
And when he set the two down, it was… quite interesting. One was a normal mushroom pizza, cooked based on Traveler’s recipe: Ayato certainly made it much better than Ayaka could’ve attempted. But the second pizza was topped with a rather colorful palette: lavender melons, sea grass, and what looked like Sea Ganoderma. Ayaka and Thoma already found themselves gagging at the smell.
When Ayaka glanced at her blonde companion, he was furiously shaking his head at her, running a thumb straight across his throat as if saying “It’s over for him.” And honestly, Ayaka might have to agree this time. Maybe she should’ve never given him that pizza recipe or that cooking idea.
“A ‘taste test’…” you echoed. The two eavesdroppers heard shifts from your side do the table, meaning you reached forward to grab a slice—they quite obviously guessed you picked the regular mushroom pizza. “The host should go first, don’t you think?”
Oh? Did that mean you were interested in this game of two after all? Ayaka’s eyes practically lit up—She was so excited for her brother!
“I’ll take up that offer of yours,” Ayato chuckled lowly. And with no gag or hesitance at all, he takes a large bite with a whole unsavory mixture of the ingredients entering the cave of his mouth. “Mm, not bad at all.”
You were visibly surprised by his calmness, now reaching out to grab a slice of your own and biting it just as he did.
But almost immediately, that bite was spat right back out onto a napkin at the mere taste of this weird concoction. “Bleh, Lord Commissioner! How did you manage to eat a whole slice?!”
The first thing Ayaka and Thoma noticed: The way you said this was amidst laughter. You were laughing, and it even sounded like you were smiling. Because whenever Ayato tried this sort of gross mixing method with Thoma or Ayaka, they would also say the same line of disgust, but in an unfavorable way. But, no—You sounded genuinely lighthearted?
The second thing Ayaka and Thoma noticed ( from even the slightest of peeks ): The big, bona fide grin on Ayato’s face at your reaction. Oh, he was absolutely eating this up, as no one ever showed a positive reaction to his weird little hobby before. And of course, being partnered with the fact he was ( not-so ) secretly in love with you, only made it so much better for him.
“It was alright, I’d say!” he spoke excitedly, a hint of an uncontrollable laughter and uncontrollable smile laced in his voice. “It had the most memorable texture, and the taste felt like I was in touch with mother nature.”
You only scoffed at him in a joking manner, “None of those ‘compliments’ of yours weren’t inherently positive, Commissioner.”
To that, he gave you another big grin before silently reaching to eat yet another slice of this suspicious pizza. Well, Ayaka supposed her brother’s weirdness landing a perfect date with you, after all. And then she pat herself on the back—because maybe, giving him that recipe was the best mistake she could make.
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// not proofread ;; THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE FUNNIER THAN INTENDED. BUT IM BAD AT BEING FUNNY :(
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charliemwrites · 4 months
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Sniff, sniff…. Woof.
“Johnny? Johnny, baby, come here!”
Your big wolf boy comes bounding in from the living room as you shut the front door, immediately rearing up to sniff at your neck and face and hands. Satisfied, he licks your cheek and drops down again.
“Alright, listen up, handsome.” You grab his cheeks, scritching along his jaw and grinning as his big blue eyes go dopey. “My sister and her husband are going to stay the night. You are going to be a polite boy because you love me and don’t want to give my sister anything to talk shit about. Yes?”
A sneeze that he (for once) aims away from you. You laugh, drop a kiss between his eyes.
“Good talk.”
As usual, he follows you through the house as you shed clothes and shoes and bags. You ramble about the grocery store and your day, mostly just to get it out so your headspace can be clear for the evening. Helps to have a little (relatively) listener following at your heels.
He camps out in the bathroom while you shower, licking the glass door until you scold him - per usual. And again when he tries to lick the clean water off your leg. Only starts getting restless and grumpy when he sees you change into “outside” clothes rather than pjs.
You groan as he tries to herd you away from your own closet. Must be mixed with a shepherding dog because he’s a damn pushy jerk.
“Enough, bud,” you sigh. “Look, I don’t wanna go much either. But it’ll be worse if I don’t.”
He mouths off at you, a new thing he’s started up that reminds you of a husky. Maybe you should get one of those doggy DNA tests.
“I know I know,” you coo, shimmying into a pair of pants that your sister won’t be able to tease makes your ass look flat. “I’d rather snuggle up and watch 90s vampire movies too. But I already said I’d go and this means I’ll be able to skip seeing her on her birthday.”
More grumbles, but at least he climbs up on the bed to pout. You finish dressing and head for the vanity - no way you can go out with your sister without makeup.
As you pass, you roll him over to scratch his belly - politely ignoring his reaction. God, you really need to get him in for a neutering. If you catch him humping one more pillow—
When it’s time to go, you drop down to give him one last hug.
“Be good, baby. I’ll be home soon with some new friends. I love you.”
After dinner, your sister’s husband suggests a bar. And, of course, it’s a sports bar. Man can’t go more than an hour or two without.
You and your sister chat while his eyes stayed glued to the screens. Well, she chats. You mostly just provide the audience she constantly craves, the validation she always needs.
At some point your excuse yourself to order another drink, weaving between the patrons and sighing at a chance to let your face rest for a moment. While you’re waiting, someone brushes up close behind you, startles you.
“Och, sorry, hen. Madhouse in here.”
You blink, tilt your head back to see a gorgeous pair of blue eyes shining down at you. Takes your breath away.
“Oh! Um, no problem, I get it.”
You try to scoot as much as you can - but it really is packed, especially at the bar - and the man takes the opportunity to occupy any free space you have.
Not that you’re complaining. He’s got the type of face they put on magazines with hooks like “sexiest man alive.” A killer grin as he winks down at you, arm bracing on the bar.
“Buy ya a drink for bein’ so rude?”
You’ve barely gotten the start of, “oh it’s alright,” out before he’s signaling the bartender. His stature and presence gets him instant service though, so you let it go, fidgeting restlessly.
Even his voice sounds like a sin worth committing. He’s too attractive. Too handsome to not know it; and definitely too handsome to be chatting you up and ordering you a drink.
“You here with anyone?” he asks with an edge that makes your spine prickle. Yet you almost feel like you imagine it. His tone is normal, his expression hasn’t changed and yet. Something subsonic in the timbre of his voice, maybe.
“My sister and her husband,” you reply.
“No husband of your own?”
You try to laugh, it comes out strained and awkward. “Ah, the only man in my life has four legs.”
Instead of looking annoyed by the brush off, his eyes spark.
“Dog?”
“Yup!” And okay, alarms in your head aside, you’re always happy to talk about Johnny. He’s a safe topic. You fish your phone out of your back pocket and show him your lock screen.
The man takes a quick look at the screen, an odd, private smile flicking across his face. There and then gone, before those intense eyes are locked on you again.
“He friendly?”
You laugh a bit, perk up as the bartender returns with your drink. “Not with men. Thanks for buying!”
as you turn to go, he grabs your hip. Not hard, or even too low. But you gasp quietly, the heat of his palm searing through your clothes.
“Name’s soap, by the way.”
Infinitely more nervous now, you stutter out your own and then retreat to your sister and her husband.
Spend the rest of the night pretending not to watch Soap. He doesn’t return the courtesy, eyes trained on you, lurking around the bar. So visible it seems to only you. Something about the way the light catches his eyes reminds you of when Johnny senses a threat. When he gets low and growly, hair standing on end, eyes focused.
Soap looks like he’s hunting you.
Thankfully, your sister complains about the noise after an hour or so and the three of you leave. You’re relieved to be going home.
As you step inside, you call for Johnny again.
“Wait, who the hell is Johnny?” your sister’s husband asks, an odd look on his face. “You’re living with someone?”
You snort a bit. Does he seriously not remember you talking about your dog?
“Yeah,” you joke, “he’s the love of my life, my one and only—”
You hear the clack of the doggy door and call out again. Johnny trots in panting.
“Did you just come in from a run?” you chuckle, putting a hand out in greeting.
He comes right up to you, presses his nose to the spot where “Soap” grabbed you and snuffles.
“I know, I smell wrong,” you soothe.
He grumbles and licks at your shirt, but you gently nudge him away, turning as your sister scoffs.
“You still do that thing where you talk to them like people?” She asks. “Don’t you think that’s… childish?”
“Johnny’s basically a person in a human body,” you reply, laughing. “You’ll see.”
“Dogs shouldn’t have human names,” her husband pipes up, reaching for Johnny.
“No, wait—”
Johnny snaps just shy of his fingers and puts himself bodily between you two.
“Easy!” you yelp, hooking your hand in his collar. “Sorry, I meant to warn you - Johnny’s shy with men.”
“He almost took my bloody hand off!”
“He’s just protective. Johnny, heel.”
He stops snarling, but plants himself at your feet right there, eyes sharply trained on your brother in law. Your sister snorts.
“How are you supposed to get men back here, then?”
You jump as Johnny barks, a full deep one that your rarely ever hear. Your sister startles too, then scowls.
“I don’t,” you answer, shaking your head. “Anyway, let me just get the sheets for the spare room and we can call it a night.”
Johnny stays close at your heels the entire time, though you swear he throws a nasty glance back at your sister’s husband.
2K notes · View notes
munson-blurbs · 3 months
Note
Headcanon: Eddie is a boob man. Best friend Eddie would one day notice your boobs (maybe in a bathing suit or a low cut top or something) and they become his new obsession hehe
Us? Projecting? Never.
Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI), unwanted boners, semi-public masturbation (m), Eddie's a perv but he's not thrilled about it, Reader has boobs but no size is given (Eddie loves all boobs, let's be real)
WC: 1.3k
Divider credit to @saradika
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Stupid D20. 
Stupid Dustin for tossing it so far across the table. 
Stupid low-cut shirt that exposes your chest when you lean over to collect the die, giving Eddie a stupid boner in the middle of Hellfire Club. 
“Hey, Ed!” Gareth calls out impatiently, snapping his fingers in front of the Dungeon Master’s face. “You wanna tell us if we defeated the demogorgon, or are you just gonna stare off into space?”
Eddie clears his throat. “Sorry. Right.” He tries his best to proceed with the campaign as usual, but all he can think about are your boobs and how grateful he is to be sitting down right now. 
When he adjourns the meeting, he’s still too hard to stand without someone noticing. “I’m just gonna, uh, hang back and brainstorm for a few,” he lies as smoothly as he can. 
“Can’t wait to see what sadistic shit you come up with,” Mike says. The rest of the guys slap him five in agreement as they clamor out the door. 
The only people left in the room are you and Eddie. 
Of course. 
“You don’t have to stick around, Sweetheart.” He tries not to sound too dismissive, plastering a smile on his face. 
“You’re my ride.”
Shit. “Oh. Right.” He hedges a nervous laugh. “I’ll be ready in five.”
You nod. “No worries. I’ll run to the girls’ room while I wait.” Before reaching the door, you notice that Lucas’s character sheet has fluttered to the ground. You reach down and scoop it up, revealing the tops of your bra-covered breasts. 
“Sinclair owes me,” you chirp, placing the paper back on the table, remaining utterly oblivious to the way Eddie is straining against his zipper once again. 
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To Eddie’s credit, he tries to stop thinking about them. He really, truly does. 
You’re his best friend. He doesn’t want to constantly think about your boobs, or the way they’d feel pressed against his bare chest, or whether your nipples would harden if he sucked on them, or—
“Mr. Munson!” Ms. O’Donnell’s shrill screech snaps him out of his breast-induced stupor. “Is there a reason why you can’t be bothered to listen while I’m trying to teach?”
“N-No, ma’am.”
She huffs out an irritated sigh. “Since you must know everything already, why don’t you come up and solve the problem for us?” She taps the piece of chalk against the blackboard, leaving tiny white dots in its wake. 
Eddie shakes his head, feeling his cheeks burn red. Humiliating himself when he can’t figure out the value of x will be bad enough, but to fail while his sail is at half-mast? He’ll never recover. 
Fortunately, the old bird relents and turns back to the board to continue her lesson. 
Crisis averted. 
Except…is it?
Because the only thing—things, rather—on Eddie’s mind are your tits. And he isn’t supposed to be imagining himself caressing them while you’re bouncing on his cock, moaning his name, saying that only he can make you feel that good…
He’s racing out of his seat the moment the bell rings, making a mad dash for the Hellfire room, relieved to see that it’s unoccupied. The door barely closes behind him before he’s ambling towards his DM throne and frantically tugging down his jeans and boxers. 
“Fucking Christ,” he whispers, inhaling sharply as his cock is free of its denim restraint. He wraps his hand around it and squeezes in his desperation for an ounce of relief. Pre-cum already leaks from his red, angry tip, and he knows from experience that this is not going away without some…intervention. 
Eddie reluctantly lets go of himself and spits into his open palm. He bites his lower lip to stifle a burgeoning moan as he slowly works his shaft, fingers tightening to simulate what he imagines to be the way you’d feel. 
“Thassit, mmmf, feels s’good.” He closes his eyes and rests the back of his head on his chair. He needs you underneath him so he can watch your breasts jiggle with each snap of his hips. 
“Bet you want my cum, huh? Where do you want it?” Eddie keeps his voice low, barely loud enough for him to hear. “Want it on those pretty tits of yours? Yeah, you fuckin’ do.”
His fist flies over his hardness, choked whimpers escaping his lips. He feels pleasure begin to build and moans your name to bring himself over the edge. 
“Yeah?”
Eddie’s head snaps forward, taking a moment to let reality seep in. He’s not buried deep within you; he’s jerking off in a dark room where he plays Dungeons & Dragons, and you’re standing in the doorway. 
“Eds? You okay?”
“Hmm? Oh, yeah. ‘M fine,” he lies, silently brainstorming ways to tuck himself back into his pants without you noticing. 
You arch a disbelieving brow. “You sure? Lucas said he saw you running down the hallway—”
“I’m fine!” He insists louder this time. Shaking his head, he bites his lip and attempts to collect himself. 
The two of you have been friends for too long; you know that he’s far from fine when he raises his voice. You walk to him, determined to figure out what’s wrong. 
And then you see it. 
Eddie says nothing, fully focused on covering himself as best he can and avoiding eye contact. 
It doesn’t take long for you to put the pieces together: semi-hard cock in his hand, sweat beading on his forehead, the pleading mentions of your name. 
“Eddie.” You let your fingertips brush against his shoulder. “Did I interrupt?”
He only nods in response. 
“What were you thinking about?”
Eddie exhales a long breath before answering. “You,” he finally answers. “And th-that shirt you wore yesterday.” His cock twitches at the mere reminder of it. 
You grin knowingly. You’d bought it at the mall specifically because of its low-cut neckline, hoping it would catch Eddie’s attention. 
Apparently, it very much had. 
“You liked it?” 
“Loved it.” He starts stroking himself again, almost unaware of his own movements. “Want you to wear it every damn day,” he adds with a hoarse chuckle. 
Swiping your tongue over your lower lip, you lean in and whisper in his ear, “What if I didn’t wear one at all?”
With that, you lift your shirt over your head and unhook your bra, letting them both fall to the ground unceremoniously. Eddie’s eyes widen, gazing at your exposed chest. 
“Oh, baby,” he breathes, his free hand reaching out to touch them. His thumb grazes one nipple and he gives your breast a gentle squeeze. “Baby, they’re perfect.”
You smile, using your hip to nudge the table away and get on your knees in front of him. “Keep going, Eds.”
He nods again, shifting forward a bit so you’re between his legs. “Gonna…gonna cum all over these perfect tits,” he grunts. “Please. Please, I gotta…”
“You can cum on them, Eds.”
And, fuck, does he. Thick ropes spill out of his cock, painting your chest in a sticky film. He’s crying out your name as he does it, milking every last drop. 
He floats down from the high, staring at your chest and admiring the way he’s claimed you. “That…wow,” he manages, laughing nervously. “Let me clean you up.” He reaches for the tissues, wiping whatever is still leaking out of him before sopping up the mess on your breasts. 
“I don’t know where we go from here,” he admits sheepishly, wadding up the Kleenex and tossing it into the trash. “Like, do I take you on a date? Bend you over the table?” He says the second option teasingly, but you have a feeling he wouldn’t turn you down if you agreed to it. 
You re-clasp your bra and shrug on your shirt. “We could try a date,” you say as casually as you can. 
“Dinner and a movie?”
“I’ll wear that shirt.”
--
1K notes · View notes
punkshort · 5 months
Text
i'll be home for christmas | part two
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Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader
Summary: Having just caught your fiancé cheating on you, you decide to come back home from the big city to Austin for the month of December to try to figure out your next step. You had no idea you would be getting more than you bargained for with the handsome single dad who built your parents' house.
Chapter Warnings: no outbreak, modern day but Joel is 40, language, fluff, very soft!joel, flirting, kissing, hallmark movie tropes up the wazoo, mentions of infidelity, mentions of divorce, reader's sister is pregnant, hurt/comfort, explicit smut (18+MDNI), (somewhat) unproteced piv sex, angst (but you know there will be a happy ending, this is Hallmark, after all)
WC: 12K
A/N: I am so overwhelmed at the response I received for part one. No contest, it's my most successful story to date, and I can't thank you all enough ❤️ I really hope you enjoy this part just as much. Please read the warnings, this has some (very sweet and soft) smut at the end, so if it isn't your thing, feel free to skip it.
Series Masterlist
Joel sat in his truck, the engine long cooled down by now, as he stared blankly at his garage door, waiting for the stupid grin to leave his face before he went inside to face his brother. But he had been sitting there for almost twenty minutes, and he was still smiling behind the back of his hand.
That date with you was perfect. Well, he could have done without getting knocked on his ass by some kid, but it worked out for him in the end, so he didn't mind.
Goddamn, did you make him feel good. There was no way he would be able to sleep that night, he was sure of it. Not after the way you looked at him, touched him, kissed him. A big part of him wondered for a long time if he would spend the rest of his life alone, believing that lightning doesn't strike twice, that he would never find anyone who would look at him and want him the way you did.
He ignored the nagging voice in the back of his head that reminded him you didn't live there, that you would be going back to New York in a couple short weeks. He couldn't let that bring him down just yet, that was a problem for another day. Right now, his only problem was resisting the urge to drive back to your house and scoop you up in his arms so he could make you feel as good as he felt.
It was close to midnight, so he caved and went inside, hoping his brother would be too groggy to interrogate him. When he walked in and saw Tommy and Sarah lounging on the couch, wide awake and watching some action flick, his face fell.
"Hey, it is way past your bedtime, the hell are you doin'?" Joel scolded, sliding off his boots.
"Dad, c'mon, it's the weekend," Sarah whined.
"Don't care, you know the rules," he told her, trying to sound firm, but he had such a soft spot for her that he never succeeded in sounding threatening.
"But it's a special occasion, I wanted to hear how your date went," she grinned, sitting up and wiggling her eyebrows. Joel's jaw dropped and shot a glare at his brother while stretching his arms out at his side in disbelief.
"Oh, come on, she practically dragged it outta me," Tommy smirked.
"Unbelievable," Joel muttered, collapsing on the end of the couch and rubbing his eyes.
"So?" Sarah pushed, tucking her legs underneath her excitedly.
"I ain't talkin' about this with you," he said, biting his cheek as he stared at the TV.
"Why not?" she pouted, but Joel just shook his head.
"Go brush your teeth," he said.
"Fine," she replied, rolling her eyes as she made her way to the stairs. "But I'll get it out of you one day."
She stomped upstairs and it wasn't until Joel heard the water running that he turned to his brother.
"What the hell, Tommy? You know I didn't want her knowin' about that," he said, exasperated.
"Oh, relax," Tommy said, stretching his arms above his head. "She's sixteen, Joel. She's smart. She figured it out herself, I just confirmed it after gettin' the third degree."
Joel sighed and tipped his head back onto the sofa, closing his eyes.
"Christ," he muttered.
"What's the big deal?"
Joel sat up and opened his eyes.
"Big deal is, she lives in New York. There's no future there, we were just hangin' out, and I don't need Sarah gettin' her hopes up," Joel explained, trying to downplay his feelings, but his chest squeezed at the thought of you leaving one day.
"Ever hear of long distance?" Tommy asked, raising an eyebrow.
"That never works," Joel replied, shaking his head.
"Well, maybe you should make it work," he said, sitting up and muting the TV. "You know, Sarah just wants you to be happy, Joel. We both do," Tommy said somberly. "Told me tonight she's worried about you bein' all alone when she goes off to college."
"I'll be alright," he said gruffly, although the same thought was plaguing his mind recently, as well.
Tommy stared at his brother a moment as Joel watched the TV, pretending to follow the story even though there was no audio. He decided to drop it for now and changed the subject.
"So, you gonna tell me how it went or what?"
Joel bit his lower lip, trying to keep himself from smiling, but he failed. Tommy noticed right away and grinned, leaning forward to tap his knee.
"I know that look," he said, still grinning.
"Yeah, alright," Joel finally said with a smile. "It was great. Really fuckin' great."
"Hell yeah!" Tommy yelled, and Joel immediately shushed him, pointing upstairs.
"She's funny and she's sweet, we had a real nice time," Joel said, his grin permanently etched on his face now.
"I figured it went well since you got home so late," Tommy replied with a wink.
"I ain't gonna sleep with her on the first date," he whispered, just in case Sarah was listening. He settled back into the couch as Tommy turned the TV volume back on, letting the movie play for a minute before adding, "She's a good kisser, though."
"Oh, I can't wait to meet this girl," Tommy chuckled with a shake of his head. "Haven't seen you smile this much in years."
"Yeah, well," Joel replied noncommittally, still smiling like an idiot and staring at the TV. He decided to stay downstairs that night, finishing the movie and then starting another one on the couch long after Tommy left, unable to quiet down his mind long enough to fall asleep until nearly three in the morning.
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You woke up the next day, stretching your arms above your head with a big yawn, not ready to get out of bed yet but the voices downstairs told you it must have been late. With a groan, you reached over and snatched your phone off the charger. When you saw you had a text waiting for you, your heart skipped a beat until you read Sydney's name and not Joel's. Your eyes flicked to the top of the screen, noting it was close to ten in the morning, before sliding open the text.
Sydney: sorry forgot to reply yesterday. I saw will at black & blue, he was hammered and falling all over the place
You scowled, not interested in whatever your ex was up to, so you replied with just the thumbs up emoji and set your phone back down.
Staring at the ceiling, you dreamily thought about your date with Joel. God, he really took you by surprise. You were proud of yourself for taking that first big step forward and putting yourself out there again, but you had no idea it would feel like this. You weren't even sure you ever felt like this with Will. Even when things were good, Will never treated you the way Joel did last night. He was so earnest and respectful, opening doors for you and actually listening to you talk about work. And he didn't even try to feel you up, either, although you probably wouldn't have minded. Maybe it was those Southern manners you were missing this whole time.
With a groan, you dropped your phone back on the nightstand and swung your legs over the edge of your bed, wrapping yourself in your robe, still not expecting it to be so cold in Texas. Even though it was December, it was unusual.
You made your way into the kitchen and made a beeline for the coffee, tossing a wave in the direction of your parents sitting with your sister and brother in law in the living room.
"She lives!" Cassie exclaimed with a smug look on her face. You held your mug up to your lips and blew on the liquid, frowning when the whole family was looking at you with matching, goofy smirks.
"Why are you all looking at me like that?"
"Like what?" your mom asked innocently. You squinted at her as you sat down, not buying it.
"How was your date?" your sister asked. You took a sip of coffee before replying.
"Good," you said simply, nodding your head. Your mom and dad exchanged a look and you frowned again, getting annoyed.
"What?" you asked loudly.
"Nothing!" your dad said, looking back down at his newspaper. Who even still gets the newspaper delivered anymore, anyway?
"Josh, what's going on?" you asked your sister's husband, knowing he was the weakest link. He glanced nervously between you and Cassie.
"They saw you and Joel on the Ring camera," he blurted out, and your family all groaned in unison. Your face flushed beet red, gawking at them all in disbelief.
"Are you kidding me?" you screeched.
"We didn't mean to, Bucky. Dad was reviewing the footage because he couldn't find the newspaper this morning and, well..." your mom trailed off, trying to hide her smile.
"Oh my god," you whined, tucking your legs to your chest and hiding your face.
"Looked like the date was a little more than good," Cassie teased, and you smacked her on the leg.
"I can't believe this," you mumbled to yourself, hiding your face behind your coffee mug and praying someone would change the subject. "How much did you see?"
"Just from when he pulled in the driveway til when you went inside," your mom said with a shrug.
"That's, like, everything, Mom! Oh my god!" Your face was hot with embarrassment now.
"He looks like a good kisser, is he a good kisser?" Cassie asked.
"Shut up!" you whined, covering your face with your free hand.
"There's nothin' to be embarrassed about, he was a gentleman. Held the door open for you and everythin'," your dad murmured, and you groaned.
"Can we talk about literally anything else, please?" you begged.
"Of course!" your mom said, her eyes flicking around the room, waiting for someone to say something, but nobody spoke.
"I'm sorry, Buck, but you gotta see the the smile on his face after you went inside, it was so cute," Cassie said, pulling out her phone.
"I'm going upstairs!" you announced, jumping up from the couch.
"Wait! Are you still coming by later to help paint the nursery?"
"I don't know, are there any cameras there?" you shouted over your shoulder as your climbed the stairs with your coffee to hide in the sanctity of the guest bedroom.
"Well, no. Only because I haven't set the baby monitor up yet," Cassie called back and giggled when she heard you slam your door.
Grumbling to yourself, you flopped back into bed and picked up your phone, looking for a distraction from your embarrassment. You quickly found one when you saw you had a missed text from Joel.
Joel Miller: Question for you - when is the earliest you should text someone without looking too pathetic after you've had the best date of your life?
You grinned as you typed out a response.
You: answer - whatever time you sent this text :)
Joel Miller: Oh, good. Thought I scared you off, sent that about ten minutes ago.
You: sorry, I was downstairs talking to my family, forgot to bring my phone. And I don't think you could ever scare me off
You almost told him about the doorbell camera fiasco, but decided against it. Picking up your mug, you tried not to stare too hard at your phone as you waited for a reply.
Joel Miller: What are you doing later?
Your heart skipped a beat at the thought of seeing him again so soon, then quickly stopped yourself, remembering your promise to your sister.
You: I told my sister I would help paint the nursery...
Joel Miller: That's a shame. I was hoping you could teach me something again.
You: oh? lol
Joel Miller: I just realized how that sounded - I meant wrapping Christmas presents for Sarah. I'm awful at it and I have another hunch gift wrapping is a secret talent of yours.
You giggled and rolled over in bed, your embarrassment long forgotten now.
You: you might be right... how about tomorrow?
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Joel took the porch steps two at a time, eager to see you again and it hadn't even been a full two days. His finger barely pressed the doorbell when he heard your voice call out I got it! and the door swung open. You smiled up at him, your eyes lighting up before dropping your gaze to his mouth.
"Hi," you said breathlessly.
"Hey," he replied, swallowing roughly.
"Have a nice time, Bucky!" your mom's voice rang out somewhere behind you as you shut the door quickly. Joel grinned, his gaze drifting from your eyes to your mouth before leaning in. You put your hand on his chest and tilted your head back before grabbing his hand and leading him to his truck. Confused, he followed behind and tried not to stare too long at the way your jeans perfectly hugged your ass.
You led him to the passenger side of the truck, but when he reached out to open the door, you snaked your hand up to wrap around the back of his neck, pulling his face down for a searing kiss only when you were sure you were hidden from view.
"Would I sound crazy if I said I missed you?" you whispered.
"No," Joel replied, shaking his head and trying to calm his pounding heart. "Couldn't stop thinkin' 'bout you."
"Me, too," you admitted softly, gazing up at him with your beautiful eyes all wide and burning with desire.
He cradled your face in his calloused hand, the other flattened firmly against the truck door behind you as he stared into your eyes, fighting the urge to pick you up and wrap your legs around his waist so he could pin you against his truck and let you feel just how badly he missed you.
Then, you heard your dad's SUV unlock and your eyes widened in panic.
"Shit," you muttered. "We should go. I think they're heading out."
"Alright, maybe I should say 'hi' real quick," he said, pushing himself off the truck and letting his hand drop from your face.
"No! That's okay, we'll be stuck here forever if you do," you said hurriedly. He gave you a curious smile but agreed before opening the door for you and hopping into the driver's seat.
He waited until he backed out of the driveway and was heading down your street before shooting you a sideways glance.
"Everythin' okay?"
You sighed and rubbed your palms over your face before clearing your throat.
"So, remember the other night on the porch, after you dropped me off?"
He smirked and nodded.
"Yeah, I think I remember," he teased.
"Well," you began. "My family saw us on the doorbell camera the next morning," you cringed.
He laughed, throwing his head back just a bit so he could still keep an eye on the road, and shook his head.
"Oh, I hate those fuckin' things," he said, but he was still laughing.
You grinned, your nerves and unease dissipating quickly.
"You're not embarrassed?"
"Nah," he said with a shrug, then turned his head briefly to look at you. "I'm sure we put on a good show."
You giggled, your cheeks tinting pink, and turned your head to look out the window.
"Alright," he said after a minute. "I've waited long enough and I gotta ask."
You swiveled back towards him, waiting for him to continue.
"What's the story with the nickname?"
You groaned and squeezed your eyes shut.
"It's so unbelievably stupid," you said, but he shook his head.
"Well, now you gotta tell me."
"Fine," you said, rolling your eyes, but your playful smile gave you away.
"It's Buck, or Bucky. Short for Bucket," you began.
"Bucket?" he repeated, bewildered.
"I warned you it was stupid!" you protested, and he chuckled. "Anyway, when I was little, my sister and her friends had a sleepover one time, and I overheard them swearing."
"Okay," Joel said slowly, nodding along while he kept his eyes pinned to the road.
"I always looked up to my sister, I was like her shadow when I was younger. So, when I heard them swearing, I wanted to be like them, too, you know?"
"Yeah, I follow," he replied, still not sure how the story related to your nickname.
"Well, thing is, I misheard them. They were saying 'fuck it', but I heard 'bucket'," you explained. "So I went to school and, thinking I sounded cool, I would say 'bucket' to all my friends. We were little, they had no idea what I was talking about, so I explained to them it's a swear word. Before I knew it, I had the whole class saying 'bucket' any time someone dropped something, or got a bad grade on a test, or whatever."
Joel howled with laughter, gripping the steering wheel for dear life as he tried to make it safely into his driveway.
"The principal called my parents and told them what was happening," you continued, joining in and giggling. "They got me home, and-" you doubled over, clutching your stomach as Joel put the truck in park and slumped over the steering wheel, his body shaking as he laughed.
"And I had to tell them the whole story, about why I kept saying it and-" you wiped the tears from your eyes as you took a deep breath. "And - oh my god - my sister got grounded for two weeks-" Another fit of laughter washed over Joel, tears streaming down his face.
"Wait, wait," he gasped, unbuckling his seatbelt so he could turn to face you. "You got in trouble in school, and your sister ended up gettin' punished?"
"Yes!" you squeaked, still giggling.
"Oh, shit," he breathed, panting as he leaned the back of his head against the seat rest. "Can't believe you thought that was stupid. That's gotta be the funniest thing I heard in a long while."
"Well, I'm glad I could brighten your day," you said, still grinning.
He rolled his head back towards you, his soft gaze drifting up and down your frame quickly before stopping on your eyes.
"You really do, y'know," he said quietly, and you furrowed your brow, tilting your head in confusion.
"Brighten my day," he clarified.
You bit your lower lip and smiled, looking away as the flush began to return to your cheeks.
"Come on, charmer. Why don't we go teach you how to wrap presents?"
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You never really gave much thought as to what Joel's house would look like, but once you saw it, it immediately felt like him. It was a smaller, two bedroom house. When you first walked in, you entered a living room with a leather couch and an oversized recliner. A big screen TV was front and center across from the couch, with a few framed pictures of Joel and Sarah mounted on the wall next to it.
"You want somethin' to drink?" Joel asked, making sure to slide the coat from your shoulders before shrugging off his own.
"Maybe just water," you said, following him into the kitchen. You gasped when you saw his cupboards and immediately rushed over to them while he pulled two bottles of water from the stainless steel fridge.
"Oh my god, Joel," you whispered, running your fingers gently over the designs. Each one looked different but somehow they all were cohesive. Some had small flowers or butterflies carved into the corners, while others had simple, yet intricate designs grooved into the wood.
"Had to practice somehow," he said, feeling his cheeks flush as he walked over to hand you your water.
"God, it's so beautiful," you said breathlessly, unable to look away from the dark, stained wood. Your fingers danced over some stars etched into one of doors, your eyes wide with awe, but he was focused entirely on you. He couldn't get enough of watching the delicate features on your face light up whenever you found something new that pleased you.
"How long does this take for you to do?" you asked, finally dragging your eyes away to look up at him. Your throat tightened when you noticed the heat behind his stare, your pulse fluttering in your neck.
"Depends," he murmured. "Some are faster than others, but I prefer to go slow and take my time. Anythin' worthwhile takes time. Gotta show it respect, gotta care for it."
His low and sultry tone made your face flush, forgetting for a moment you were talking about woodworking.
"Y-yeah," you stammered, clearing your throat. Suddenly, you were feeling short of breath. "That makes sense."
He gazed down at you for another moment, his eyes slowly raking over your face as if committing it to memory before speaking again. Your entire body felt hot, and you cursed yourself for wearing such a thick sweater.
"Ready to go upstairs?" he murmured, still staring at you in a way that made your spine tingle.
"Huh?" you whispered, completely entranced by his deep, brown eyes.
"The presents?" he reminded you with a small smirk.
"Oh, right," you said, finally blinking and looking away. You shakily opened your water bottle after he turned around to lead you to the stairs, your mouth suddenly extremely dry.
As you walked up the steps, you tried to get a look at the pictures that lined the wall, but it was difficult to do without tripping. You thought you had finally gotten your head on straight after that moment in the kitchen, but when you realized he was leading you to his bedroom, you felt the tremble return to your hands.
"Sorry, had to hide everythin' in my closet, she's too nosy," he said over his shoulder.
"No problem," you squeaked, trying not to stare at his neatly made bed. Your eyes briefly drifted over the end tables filled with personal effects. You thought you saw a chapstick, a cord for a phone charger, and a worn paperback book, but you didn't want him to catch you, so you looked away quickly.
He opened his closet and you were surprised to find his clothes packed away so neatly. For a bachelor, he kept a really clean house. He pulled out the bags of gifts from the shelf above his clothes, then the wrapping paper, which was leaning against the corner.
"D'you think we got enough room?" he asked, glancing around at the floor.
"Yeah, of course," you said, sitting down crossed legged on the carpet. You reached out for the wrapping paper and rolled it out in front of you as he sat down at your side, taking out her gifts one by one. You felt yourself involuntarily clench as you watched his large hands deftly lay out each item on the floor, his muscles twitching slightly under the tanned skin of his exposed forearms.
"I know what you're thinkin'," he said, and your eyes widened in surprise. "I spoil her, I know, but she's such a good kid, I can't help myself."
That was definitely not what you were thinking, but you chose to keep that to yourself.
"I think it's sweet," you told him. "You seem like a really good dad."
Now it was his turn to blush. He tried to turn his head away so you wouldn't see, murmuring his thanks as you each picked an item to start. After a quick tutorial, which included way too much tape and ripped paper, Joel finally seemed to get the technique down. It only took until about halfway through the pile for you to muster up the courage to bring up a topic you couldn't help but be curious about.
"So," you began, hoping you came off nonchalant. "Is Sarah with her mom this Christmas, or..."
Joel's fingers fumbled for a moment with the wrapping paper, but he quickly recovered.
"Uh, no," he replied, keeping his eyes cast down on the shoe box in front of him. "She's not in Sarah's life anymore."
"Oh," you said, unable to keep the surprise from your voice, but you didn't push him any further. Your mind was scrambling, trying to think of something else to talk about, when he sighed and leaned back, abandoning the gift.
"I'm sorry, this is all so new to me, I probably should've told you about her sooner," he said, feeling guilty, but you quickly shook your head.
"No, you don't have to-"
"I want to," he said, cutting you off. You clamped your mouth shut and turned your body so you could give him your full attention, leaving the hair dryer you were wrapping on the floor next to you.
He drew a shaky breath in and looked up at the ceiling before speaking.
"There's not much to say, really. I'm still not always sure what happened," he began. You nodded, staying quiet and letting him take his time. "We were together since high school, ended up stayin' together after graduation. Sarah was a surprise, we were both still so young but we made it work. It was hard, but once me and Tommy got the business goin', it made things a bit easier."
Your fingers tangled together in your lap as you listened, refusing to say anything until he was done. His gaze drifted towards a fixed point on the wall as he continued.
"From what I gathered, she felt like havin' Sarah so young robbed her from doin' certain things in life," he said heavily. "Said she couldn't do it anymore. Didn't want her life to pass her by and be full of regret."
You bit your lip. The pain was clear as day on his face and it was making your chest ache.
"Well, anyway. I thought maybe she would go off for a couple months, do whatever it was she thought she was missin' out on. Parties, college... other men," he added the last part quietly, and you dropped your gaze to the floor. "Get it out of her system, y'know? But she just... never came back. Eventually, the calls came less and less, and I put two and two together. Didn't even get a courtesy call before I got served with the papers."
He rubbed his eyes, trying so hard not to look like a blubbering idiot in front of you. You reached your hand out and placed it gently on his knee, giving him a reassuring squeeze. He dropped his hand from his face to cover yours, staring at your coupled hands for a moment.
"Joel-"
"It was just so fuckin' hard on Sarah, y'know?" he said, his voice cracking. "I had no idea what to tell her. She cried almost every night, askin' me why her mom didn't love her anymore."
"Oh, Joel," you whispered, unable to hold back any longer. You closed the small gap between you, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and pulling him into your chest, your fingers gently raking through his hair. "I'm so sorry," you told him, burying your nose in the hair on top of his head, breathing in the citrus scent from his shampoo.
He didn't say a word. He just tugged you closer and closed his eyes, leaning into your comforting touch with a deep sigh.
"I'm sorry," he finally managed to croak out. "I'm throwin' way too much at you, I know you didn't sign up for this."
"Shh," you whispered into his hair, then tilted his face up to look at you, his dark brown eyes glassy with unshed tears. "It's okay," you murmured, pressing a soft kiss against his lips. A solitary tear slipped down his cheek when he pulled back to look deep into your eyes.
"It's okay," you repeated, wiping away the tear with the pad of your thumb before placing another gentle kiss against his lips.
He hummed contently against your mouth, sliding his hand up to the back of your neck and pressing his lips more firmly against your own, scared to let you go because if he did, he was sure he would fall apart.
Your grip on his hair tightened as he leaned forward, one strong arm wrapped around your midsection and the other pressed against your back. You mumbled something against his mouth when he tried to lay you down and knocked over a small pile of DVDs.
"Fuck," he whispered and, oh god, the way he said it made your legs turn to jelly and your cheeks flare with heat.
Frustrated, he tightened his grip around you and lifted you up, refusing to break the kiss. A tiny, high pitched squeak slipped past your lips as you wrapped your legs around his hips, letting him carry you to his bed.
He laid you down carefully on top of his plush, navy striped comforter. You sighed into his mouth, your legs loosening around his waist and falling open while you dragged your hands out of his hair and down to his shoulders, wrapping your fingers around his biceps to keep him close. He hovered above you, balancing all his weight on his elbows while his fingers played with the ends of your impossibly soft hair.
He slipped his tongue easily past your lips with a low groan, the noise going straight to your core, making the ache between your legs almost painful while your tongue danced with his, the two already so familiar with each other.
You tipped your head back with a gasp, desperate for air, but he kept going, unable to stop himself. His lips brushed against your jaw before his teeth and prickly beard scraped against the sensitive skin behind your earlobe. You let out a needy whimper and arched your back at the sensation, pushing your breasts into his broad chest as goosebumps spread over your whole body.
"Oh god, Joel," you whined softly, squeezing your eyes shut.
"Yeah, baby?" he replied, his voice thick and muffled against your neck. Baby. Jesus, this man was unraveling you so fast, it was making your head spin.
"I-I know we said this was casual, but-" the words got trapped in your throat as you cut yourself off, unable to finish your thought.
"I know," he said, his voice strained. "Fuck, I know."
He lifted his head away from your neck as he stared down at you, patting your hair back and away from your face as he panted slightly for breath.
You looked up at him, eyes watering as you tried not to think about your time coming to an end in a couple short weeks. You could tell he was thinking the same but didn't want to say it, the pain behind his eyes was obvious.
He blinked a couple times, the clouds clearing as he forced himself to focus on the present. He had you here in his arms, in his bed, underneath him right now. And he was going to be damned if he didn't soak up every single second.
He leaned back down and locked his lips on yours again, this time moving slower, more gentle and tender. He wanted to treat you right. You deserved it, and he wasn't going to give you anything less than what you deserved while he still had you.
You loosened your grip on his arms and allowed your hands to drift to the buttons of his flannel, slowly and shakily undoing them. His heart began to slam against his chest when he realized what you were doing, his mind going fuzzy with desire.
He pulled his head back when you were about halfway down his shirt, looking down hazily at your fingers working open the buttons as he desperately tried to think straight.
"Dad?" Sarah called from downstairs, the front door slamming shut. "Are you here?"
"Shit," Joel mumbled, scrambling off of you as he clumsily tried to redo his buttons. You jumped off the bed, leaning over so you could see into the mirror above his dresser, raking your hands through your tangled hair and quickly fixing your sweater.
"Yeah!" Joel shouted back, glancing over at you to make sure you were decent. "Sorry," he whispered, but you just grinned. Then his eyes fell to the half wrapped presents on the floor.
"Wait! Don't come up-" he called out as he heard her skipping up the steps. Joel grabbed your arm and pulled you out of the room, closing the door behind you both just in time.
"What? Why?" Sarah asked, then froze when she saw you. She looked up at Joel, then back to you, and a slow smile spread across her face.
"Ohhh..." she said with her hands on her hips. "Now I see."
"N-no, it's not what it looks like, she was just helpin' me wrap some gifts," Joel stammered, jutting his thumb over his shoulder. You shifted your weight nervously as you looked back and forth between them.
"Then why are you missing a button on your shirt?"
You both glanced down at his flannel, and she was right. He missed fixing a button in all the chaos. Your face flushed beet red as you stared at the ground while Joel hurriedly fixed the button, cursing under his breath. When you dared to look back up at his daughter, she was smirking playfully at you. Joel cleared his throat.
"Sarah, this is-"
"Yeah, I know, I remember from the party. The pretty dress, right?" she asked, and you nodded.
"Yeah, that's right. Nice to see you again," you said awkwardly.
She nodded, still smirking and looking at you and Joel. You could tell she loved catching her dad in this uncomfortable situation.
"Oh, crap. I forgot. Uncle Tommy is waiting for you in the driveway, said he needed your help unloading some work stuff out from the back of his truck," Sarah said.
"Ah, dammit, alright. You okay for a couple minutes?" he asked you, eyebrows raised.
"Of course," you said. He nodded, walking down the hall past Sarah, muttering "be good" to her as he walked by.
You listened as Joel made his way down the stairs and out the front door, leaving you and Sarah in silence, still staring at one another.
"I'm sorry, we really were wrapping gifts," you assured her.
"It's okay," she said with a shrug. "Last year he used duct tape on my presents, I know he needs the help."
You giggled, causing her to laugh, as well.
"Do you play an instrument?" you asked, just noticing the case on the floor next to her feet.
"Yeah, violin. I had practice after school today," she said, picking it up.
"Oh, cool. I played piano growing up, but I was never any good," you said, sliding your hands in the back pockets of your jeans.
"I have my school's Christmas recital on Friday," she said. "My first solo."
"Oh my god!" you said, clapping your hands together, genuinely impressed. "That's incredible! You must be so excited!"
"Yeah, at first, but now I'm getting nervous," she said, glancing down at the case in her hand. "You wanna hear me play?"
"Duh. Absolutely," you said with a grin. Her eyes lit up and a huge smile spread across her face again.
"O-okay. This is my room right here," she said, turning to her right and opening the door. "Sorry it's messy, my dad's gonna kill me."
"It's totally fine," you said, walking in and sitting down at the edge of her bed. You glanced around the room as she set up her music stand. On the pink walls, she had posters up of her favorite bands with a calendar and string lights draped across the room.
"I really like your room," you said, squinting to look at the stickers and drawings she had on her headboard.
"Thanks," she said sheepishly. "My dad let me do whatever I wanted."
You were about to comment on the various trophies she had on her windowsill when Sarah spoke again.
"Just so you know, I don't mind that you're seeing my dad."
Your eyes shot up to hers in surprise, not sure what to say. You hadn't really had a chance to talk to Joel about your relationship and how that would affect his daughter.
"He's been in such a good mood this past week, and he won't tell me but I know it's because of you," she said, pinning you with a familiar brown gaze.
"Oh, that's so sweet, Sarah," you said, finally finding your voice. "Thank you. That means a lot."
"You're welcome," she said. "I just want him to be happy again."
You dropped your gaze to your lap, your chest tightening at the thought of Joel being so lonely all these years.
"Me, too," you whispered, still looking down. Sarah regarded you for a minute before slapping her palms against the tops of her thighs and leaned down to pick up her violin.
"You ready?" she asked. You looked up and nodded, giving her an encouraging smile and sat back to listen as she began playing a hauntingly beautiful version of 'Silent Night'.
Sarah got about halfway through the song when she hit the wrong note and abruptly stopped, dropping her chin to her chest in frustration.
"Hey, it's okay," Joel heard you say softly as he walked back up the stairs. He paused at the top, right outside Sarah's room to listen.
"It's okay to make mistakes. Just go slower, take your time. Anything worthwhile takes time," you told her, and he smiled when he heard his earlier words to you repeated back to his daughter. He took a step forward to lean against the doorframe and watch the two of you, your back to him as you sat on her bed.
"Okay," Sarah said, taking a deep breath and closing her eyes before lifting the violin to her chin and starting over.
Joel listened to Sarah play the same song he's heard a million times already in just the past month alone, but kept his eyes trained on you. The way you gave her your full, undivided attention and encouraged her with a smile or a thumbs up when she would glance over at you shyly made his chest ache.
When Sarah successfully finished the song with no mistakes, you jumped up from the bed, clapping and cheering for her, making Sarah giggle and hide behind her hands.
Fuck, this was going to be so hard.
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"Dad?" Sarah asked the next morning over her bowl of cereal.
"Yeah, baby girl?" he replied, frowning as he pulled his bread from the toaster. He sucked his fingertips into his mouth, trying to bring some relief to the quickly reddening skin.
"Can your friend come to my recital tomorrow?"
Joel froze, his fingers still pressed against his tongue as he slowly turned around to look at her. He dropped his hand and took a deep breath.
"I don't know if that's such a good idea," he replied.
"You don't think she would wanna go?" Sarah asked, her eyebrows pinched together.
"No, it's not that, I'm sure she would," he said, trying to find the right words.
"Then what's the problem?"
Joel sighed and picked his mug up from the counter, then walked over to join her at the table.
"She doesn't live here, baby. She's goin' back to New York in another week or so, I don't want you gettin' too attached," he finally admitted, watching Sarah closely as she considered his words.
"Well, you guys like each other, right?" she asked, and Joel smirked.
"Yeah, but it ain't that simple."
"Yes, it is, Dad," she said, rolling her eyes and dipping her spoon back into her bowl. "My friend Katy was dating this guy last year and he switched schools over the summer. They're still together, it doesn't matter," Sarah said with a shrug, taking a bite of cereal.
If the topic didn't fill Joel with a sense of dread, he would have chuckled at the comparison, but instead he just sat there quietly, watching his daughter as she finished her cereal and scrolled on her phone.
Sarah pulled on her backpack and was sliding on her sneakers to catch the bus when she called back to Joel over her shoulder.
"Just ask her, okay? Please, Dad?"
Joel sighed, hanging his head between his shoulders and paused his hands over the dishes in the sink.
"Alright," he relented, and he heard Sarah clap her hands behind him before slamming the front door shut.
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You: good morning :)
Joel Miller: Good Morning, sweetheart. I didn't think you would be up this early.
You: couldn't fall back asleep. What are you doing
Joel Miller: Just getting to work. Why couldn't you fall back asleep?
You thought about it for a minute from under the pile of blankets on your bed, rolling to your side before answering.
You: I was thinking about you...
Joel Miller: Good thoughts, I hope?
You: VERY ;)
His throat went dry when he opened the text. He glanced around outside his car window, making sure he was still the only one on the job site before replying.
Joel Miller: What are you trying to tell me, baby?
You smirked and bit down on your lip.
You: I was wishing you were in bed with me right now
"Shit," he muttered to himself, glancing around once again before adjusting his pants.
Joel Miller: Me too, what are you wearing?
The answer came back almost immediately.
You: nothing
He groaned and rubbed his palms roughly over his face.
Joel Miller: You're killing me, baby. I have to get working in a minute.
You: i'm sorry ;)
You: I promised my parents I would go to dinner with them tonight, but are you free tomorrow?
Joel took a deep breath, trying to clear the onslaught of inappropriate thoughts from his head when he remembered his promise to Sarah.
Joel Miller: It's Sarah's recital tomorrow night. She asked me to invite you this morning, did you want to go?
He nervously chewed his cheek for a moment before sending another text.
Joel Miller: No pressure, I can tell her you're busy.
He sent his second text right as your reply came through.
You: I would love to!
He grinned and raked his fingers through his hair. Tommy's knuckles tapped on the outside of Joel's window, making him jump. He held up a finger before sending you a quick answer.
Joel Miller: Sounds great. I'll pick you up. Try to go back to sleep. Dream of me.
Joel opened the door and slid his phone in his back pocket, a stupid grin etched across his face as he joined his brother in the half-built storefront they were working on.
"Oh man, you got it bad," Tommy said with a chuckle when he saw the look on Joel's face.
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"Alright, what do you think of this one?" you asked Cassie as you stepped out of the bathroom modeling the sixth dress of the day.
"I liked the red one better," she said, glancing up from her phone.
"Are you sure? This one is a little more chic," you said, twisting around to look at your backside in the mirror.
"It's a high school recital, Buck. I don't think anyone is expecting 'chic'," she teased, and you rolled your eyes.
"Well, I just want to look nice, is all," you said, sitting next to her on your bed in a huff. You tapped your phone screen, frowning when all you had was another text from Sydney and nothing from Joel. You opened it up anyway, curiosity getting the best of you.
Sydney: OMG!!!!!!
You sent back three question marks and locked your phone with a sigh.
"You still wanna get together next week so we can look at apartments online for you?" she asked.
"Yeah," you said sadly, looking out the window.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing," you told her. "Just not ready to go back yet."
"Could that be because of a certain sexy contractor?" she asked, raising an eyebrow at you.
"Shut up," you smirked, tossing a pillow at her lightly.
"Ooo you like him! Lookit how red you're getting!"
"I'm gonna kill you when that baby's out, you know that, right?" you giggled.
"Yeah, yeah, sure," Cassie said, looking back down at her phone as the smile slowly faded from her face. "You know you don't have to go back, right?"
"What do you mean? My job is there, my life is there... everything is there," you replied. "Of course I have to go back."
"What life, though?" she asked, and you frowned at her. "Seriously, Buck. Aside from your job, which you hate, what's left?"
"Well, my friends are there. And I don't hate my job that much. I mean, everyone hates their job a little bit," you said with a shrug.
"Is this what you expected to do when you were in college? Is this what you wanted?" Cassie pressed, sitting up on the bed. "Are you even happy?"
You paused, letting her words roll around in your head for a moment.
"Well, I mean..." you trailed off, not sure how to answer her question.
"If you have to think about it this long, I think you know the answer," your sister said quietly. You groaned and rolled off the bed.
"I'm going back. I have to. I can't just give up because some guy broke my heart," you said, turning around so she could unzip the back of your dress.
"I'm just saying, think about it," Cassie replied. "I wouldn't hate it if my child's aunt was in their life more than twice a year!" she called after you as you shut the door to the bathroom.
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Joel eagerly jogged up the porch steps and rang the doorbell, very aware of the camera this time while he fiddled with the cuffs on his dark red button down shirt. He heard high heels clicking on the other side of the door and the corners of his mouth turned up into a smile, which quickly vanished when you opened the door and he saw the dress you were wearing.
"Hi," you said with a shy smile, pulling a soft looking white cardigan on over your shoulders.
He thought he had greeted you. He could have sworn he said something, anything, that didn't make him look like a complete idiot, but apparently nothing came out because you scrunched your eyebrows together when you saw his face.
"Are you okay?" you asked, pulling the door shut behind you.
"Yeah, it's just - Jesus, you look so good," he managed to finally say, tilting his head back to stare up at the roof of the porch for a moment, taking a deep breath.
"Thank you," you said with a giggle. "You don't look half bad, yourself."
He rubbed his forehead, exasperated and flustered before pulling you quickly into his arms and latching his mouth onto yours with a groan.
"Joel," you pulled back breathlessly with a small smile and leaned your head to the side, trying to silently remind him of the doorbell. His eyes raked over you hungrily before shaking his head and pulling you back into a deep kiss.
Fuck the camera, let them see.
You giggled against his mouth, causing him to smile and break the kiss.
"Come on, I wanna get good seats," you said, rubbing your thumb over his lower lip to wipe off your lipstick that transferred. It caused his stomach to clench. That sweet, little intimate gesture made him ache for more so badly that he could hardly breathe.
He walked you around the front of his truck, opening the door and giving you a hand so you could hop onto the seat, the gorgeous red dress you were wearing hugging your curves just right and distracting him to no end.
On the walk around to the driver's side, he mentally scolded himself, reminding himself over and over that tonight was a big deal for his little girl and he needed to stay focused.
As he drove down the street, he realized that his hand instinctively found yours across the seat, his body craving the warmth and softness of your own. How on earth was he going to go back to the life he had before, now that he knows what it's like to bask in the heat of your touch?
Once he got to the school, he found a parking spot and jumped out of the truck. You had figured out by now that he preferred you to wait so he could open the car door for you, so you did. Swinging your legs over the side of the seat, you slid down into his waiting arms, your hands gently coming to rest on the tops of his shoulders. He gazed down at you with his arms loosely hanging around your waist. You saw his adam's apple bob in his throat while he let himself get lost in your warm, beautiful eyes. You lifted a finger from his shoulder, tracing an invisible line down the side of his cheek as you stared up at him with your plush lips parted so invitingly that it made his knees weak.
"Joel! Hey!" Tommy's voice called out from behind, snapping you both out of the moment. Joel sighed and untangled himself from you, taking your hand and leading you forward so he could shut the door before turning around to find his brother.
You could see the family resemblance immediately as Tommy approached you with a wide grin. His hair was a bit darker and a lot longer, and his beard was less full than Joel's, but he had the same soft, brown eyes that you had grown to know and love.
Love? Oh, no.
"Hey, Tommy," Joel said as he got closer, his hand pressed firmly on the small of your back. "This is-"
"Oh, I know who she is. How're you doin', darlin'?" Tommy asked, pulling you into a bear hug, taking you by surprise.
"I-I'm good," you squeaked shyly once he released you. "Nice to meet you."
"I've been dyin' to meet the little lady who's got my brother all wrapped up," he replied with a grin.
"Tommy!" Joel seethed warningly at your side, but you just giggled.
"I'm just messin' around. She knows that, right?" he said, shoving his hands in his coat pocket and rolling on the balls of his feet. "Supposed to snow next week, can you believe it?"
"Yeah, I heard we might get a couple feet," Joel said, steering you toward the doors to the auditorium. "Better get your shovel ready."
You settled in between the two brothers as you found a decent spot in the fourth row. Joel draped his arm around the back of your chair while he chatted with Tommy about work. You inadvertently leaned to the side and rested your shoulder against his chest as you glanced around the room, admiring the lit up garlands around the windows and Christmas trees on the stage with fake presents underneath.
When their conversation died down, Tommy pulled out his phone and began scrolling through social media, holding it low between his spread knees with his chin tucked into his chest.
Joel tilted his face forward to press his lips on the top of your head, breathing in a deep and contented breath. A small smile played across your lips as you turned your gaze up towards him, resting your cheek gently on his shoulder. He looked down at you with a smile and planted a chaste kiss on your forehead, and as each of you slid your eyes closed for a moment, Tommy angled his phone to snap a quick picture, smiling to himself and making a mental note to show his brother later.
The lights dimmed and you all straightened up in your seats. You listened to the music teacher make a small speech at the beginning and politely clapped afterwards. You saw Sarah twice throughout the concert as part of the orchestra, smiling at how focused and beautiful she looked in her white dress. As the concert wound down, Sarah finally came out on stage for her solo, and the three of you eagerly leaned forward. At the last minute, you remembered to pull out your phone and start a video, telling yourself you were doing it for Joel so that he could be in the moment, but you knew you would end up watching it by yourself when you went back to New York City.
The performance was flawless. When it was over, the three of you lept up from your seats, cheering, jumping and clapping, making her wave and blush as she exited the stage. You sat down, giggling, as the people surrounding you gave you all polite smiles and chuckles, then quieted down for the finale.
When the lights came back up, everyone stood from their seats, murmuring and laughing while waiting for their kids to come out from backstage and take pictures. You saw a flash of white out of the corner of your eye and moved out of the way just in time for Sarah to run and jump up into Joel's arms, burying her face in his neck. He squeezed his eyes shut, his arms wrapped around her tightly, murmuring praise in her ear. You felt warmth spread across your chest as you watched them have their moment, the corners of your mouth turned up into a smile with your hands clasped together against your chest.
He let her down gently and she turned to give Tommy a quick hug. He spun her around, making her giggle and fidget with her dress before she turned to you.
"You came!" she exclaimed, wrapping her arms loosely around your waist. Your eyes widened in surprise, not expecting such affection from her, but you quickly returned the hug.
"Of course I came! Thank you for inviting me," you said, pulling back with a grin. "You were absolutely perfect, I took a video, I'll send it to your dad so he can show you later."
"I did exactly what you told me, I slowed down and took my time," she beamed, and it gave you a new feeling deep in your chest that you never felt before.
"That's great, Sarah," you replied, your throat tight with emotion. Tommy dropped his gaze from you and ticked his jaw to the side, finally understanding why Joel was hesitant to let Sarah know about the two of you.
"Dad?" Sarah asked, turning away from you. "Can I sleep over at Katy's? She's having a bunch of girls over and her mom said it was okay."
"Uh, sure, baby girl. Don't you need clothes and stuff?"
"I have stuff I keep here in my locker for gym," she said.
"Well, alright, lemme talk to her mom first," he replied, glancing around the room.
"Thank you! She's right over here," she said, grabbing his hand. "Thanks for coming!" she called back last minute over her shoulder to you and Tommy, and you both smiled and waved as she dragged her father across the room.
"She's so talented," you said, turning to Tommy. He looked down at you and gave you a weak smile.
"Yeah, she's somethin' else," he said with a nod. "Hey, listen. I'm havin' a get together next week at my house. Little Christmas party, I guess. I invited a guy I met at your parents' house - Josh? He's comin' with his wife, Joel and Sarah'll be there, I'd love for you to come by if you can."
"Josh is my brother in law," you clarified for him. "That sounds great, I'll be there, thank you."
"You're welcome," Tommy said, then his brows pinched together as he opened his mouth again to speak. "Joel might kill me for sayin' this, but you gotta know how happy you've -"
"Ready to go?" Joel asked, sneaking up beside you. Tommy cleared his throat and gave his brother an innocent smile.
"Yep," you replied, dropping your hand to find his at your side, lacing your fingers together and giving him a gentle squeeze.
After saying goodbye to Tommy, Joel slowly led you through the parking lot to his truck, desperately trying to think of something else you could do, not ready to drop you off yet. He knew the time you had together was coming to an end, and he wanted to soak up every precious second. Especially after the way he saw you with Sarah: so warm and sweet and patient. He couldn't remember the last time he saw his daughter's eyes light up that way.
He prided himself on being a good father since his wife left. Always making sure to put Sarah first, that she got everything she could ever want or need. Especially his love. When his ex abandoned them, he made sure Sarah got every ounce of love he had, hoping it would help make up for the loss. But as hard as he tried, he could never fully fill both roles. There were just some things that a mother provided for her daughter that Joel couldn't give.
He didn't realize it until he saw you with Sarah earlier that night, and then it felt like everything shifted into focus for the first time in his life.
He held out his hand to help you get back into his truck, making sure your legs were safely tucked in before he gently shut the door.
Sitting in the driver's seat gripping the steering wheel, he stared straight ahead for a moment in complete silence, the keys still in his coat pocket while his mind reeled.
"Is everything okay?" you asked timidly. He blinked and turned to you.
"Yeah," he said hoarsely. He swallowed and looked at his watch.
"You wanna get coffee or somethin'? I know it's gettin' late but I'm sure some place's open," he said, deep in thought as he considered the cafés nearby.
"Don't you have coffee at your house?" you asked shyly. His eyes snapped up to yours and he saw the flush creeping up your neck and the rapid rise and fall of your chest.
Oh.
"Yeah, yes," he croaked, nervously clearing his throat. "Let's do that. I have- yeah, good idea," he stammered, fumbling with the keys in his pocket.
You smirked as you watched his shaky hand turn the key in the ignition. He twisted around to back out of the parking spot, and this time you gave into temptation, unbuckling your seatbelt so you could slide over and tuck yourself under his arm. He immediately pulled you closer, not even caring that you weren't wearing your seatbelt. He would make sure to drive safe. Nothing could possibly ruin that night. He wouldn't let it.
At stop lights, you would run your hand up his chest and plant small kisses against the corner of his mouth, filling him with a radiating bliss he never felt before.
Once you got back to his house, you shrugged off your sweater and trailed behind him as he made his way into the kitchen. You leaned against the wall and watched as he opened one of the cupboards - the one with the small birds carved into the bottom - and pulled down a can of coffee.
"I don't think I have any decaf," he said turning to look at you.
"I don't want coffee, Joel," you said lowly. He swallowed roughly and put the can on the counter.
"What d'you want, then?"
You pushed yourself off the wall and slowly walked towards him, his eyes skating up and down your body as you approached. Wrapping your arms around his waist, you tilted your face up to gaze at him, your mouth hovering over his own.
"I want you."
His eyes fluttered closed as your lips slotted against his, his rough hands immediately coming up to cup your smooth face, holding you firmly against his mouth. Christ, he would never get tired of kissing you. If he could do it every single day for the rest of his life, he would. He knew it seemed crazy. He knew you just met, but he couldn't help the way you made him feel.
"Let's go upstairs," you whispered, nipping at his lower lip.
He couldn't speak. He just nodded in a daze and let you lead him coyly up the steps, then turned around to walk backwards down the hall towards his bedroom so you could pull him tightly against your body. His big hands gripped your waist while his tongue slipped past your lips, searching for its mate.
You reached behind you blindly, your hand fighting with the doorknob as his big frame caged you in against the wood, his masculine scent invading your senses and making it difficult to think. Finally, the door swung open and you both stumbled in, a giggle erupting from your throat as your fingers got to work undoing the buttons on his dress shirt.
You hurriedly tugged his button down off, leaving it in a heap on the floor as you slid your palms underneath the white t-shirt he had on, feeling the warm skin of his stomach and chest for the first time.
"Off," you whispered, your heart getting stuck in your throat when he yanked the shirt over his head, leaving his upper body completely bare to you. Your mouth went dry as you drank him in, then lunged forward, your lips brushing up his sternum until you reached his collarbone. You sucked on a bit of tanned skin there with a moan, then slipped your tongue out to press wetly against the red mark you left, feeling drunk off the taste of his sweat.
He gently pushed you backwards so he could ease you down onto his bed, his breath growing erratic and desperate with each little bite you left on his chest. God, has anyone ever desired him this much before? Has he really been missing out on this his entire life?
"Baby, we're gonna have to stop soon if you don't want this to go any further," he murmured. He found himself in the familiar position of hovering above you while his hand slid down your leg and toyed with the hem of your dress.
"I don't think I can take much more, tell me to stop," he whispered when you didn't answer, running the tip of his nose softly against your cheek.
"I don't want you to stop," you gasped as his fingers slipped underneath your dress. You tilted your head back and moaned when you felt his fingertips brush against the damp fabric of your panties.
His mouth hungrily devoured the exposed cleavage of your breasts, growing frustrated with the fabric of your dress keeping him from seeing all of you.
"Sit up," he demanded, leaning back and pulling his hand from between your legs. You obeyed, and he made short work of your zipper, pulling it all the way down so you could shimmy out, leaving you in just your underwear.
"Oh, fuck," he whispered when he realized you weren't wearing a bra. You let yourself fall back gently on the bed, spreading your arms out above your head so he could see every inch of you in the moonlight.
He couldn't believe this was actually happening. He kept waiting for his alarm to go off and reality to slap him across the face, but it never came. His heart was pounding so fast, he was sure you could hear it as he leaned back down and nibbled at your exposed jaw while his calloused hand cupped your soft breast, his thumb flicking over your hardening nipple.
You scraped your nails over his shoulders and down his chest as you arched your back, pressing into his hand, needing to feel the heat of his skin against your own. Your stomach flipped as you made your way down to his belt, and with shaky fingers, pulled hastily at the leather.
Yanking the belt through the loops with one swift motion, you flung it across the room, making him chuckle against your skin. When you started to work on popping open the button on his dress pants, a devastating thought suddenly occurred to him.
"Shit, wait," he said, putting his hand on top of yours. You frowned up at him, your chest heaving, as you gave him a confused look.
"I don't have any protection," he said through gritted teeth. He hung his head and squeezed his eyes shut angrily. "I-I haven't been with anyone since my ex, and I never thought... fuck," he said, clenching his jaw.
You weighed your options for about half a second before tugging his chin up, forcing him to look at you.
"I'm still on birth control," you told him, searching his eyes. "I mean, only if you're comfortable with it, we don't have to," you said, but in your head you were chanting please, please, please.
"Are you sure?" he asked, panting for air. "I don't wanna make you feel like -"
"Yes," you said, cutting him off by grabbing his face. "Yes. I'm sure, Joel. Please," you whimpered, pulling him back down to you, his mouth crashing down on yours again.
"Please," you whispered again, tipping your head back as his lips left a trail of soft kisses down your throat. "Please, Joel, I need you."
His mouth stuttered against your neck. Hearing you beg and say you needed him when he never thought he would ever be needed like this in his whole life made his mind go blank.
"Okay," he rasped. "Okay, baby."
He tugged at the zipper on his black pants and pulled them off as quickly as he could without leaving you. You reached down to help him, hooking your fingers over the band of his boxers and shoving them down. He kicked them off before yanking down your panties, dropping them on the floor next to his clothes.
You eagerly spread your legs so he could settle his hips between them. You glanced down with a small gasp when you saw the size of him and you felt your cheeks flare. Jesus Christ.
He didn't seem to notice your reaction when he was too wrapped up in staring at the wet heat between your legs, pulsing and waiting, just for him. He slid a finger gently between your folds, making you moan and your back arch. Fuck, he loved how responsive you were to his touch.
He readjusted so he was kneeling between your legs. His palms slid up your calves, past your knees and to your inner thighs, pressing them down into the mattress so you were spread wide.
He lined himself up at your center, glancing up at you quickly to make sure you were ready. You swallowed and nodded, your eyes filled with desire, desire for him, something he still couldn't fathom but decided not to question. He pressed forward gently, notching himself against you before falling forward on his elbows.
He kissed the tip of your nose as he eased himself inside you, pausing when he heard you gasp and felt you tense under him.
"More," you finally croaked, your nails coming up to rake against his scalp. He let out the breath he was holding and pushed in further, his eyes fluttering shut and his mouth falling open as he felt you slowly stretch around him so perfectly, like you were made just for him.
"Oh, god," he sighed, dropping his face to the crook of your neck after he fully sheathed himself inside you. He dragged his mouth across your chest, leaving a wet trail from his tongue and red marks from his scratchy beard in his wake. He waited until he felt your muscles relax under him before he slowly rolled his hips, dragging himself in and out as his teeth scraped over your tightening nipples. You moaned his name softly, the sound permanently etched in his brain, a sound he will refuse to forget for the rest of his life.
He began to roll his hips faster at your encouragement, becoming obsessed with the way you felt and the sounds you made, and it was all for him. He spent so much of his life giving to everyone around him, he never truly felt like anyone was able or willing to give him what he needed in return until now. The recognition was depressing and freeing at the same time. Now that he finally had what he always wanted, what he always needed, he was going to lose you and there was nothing he could do about it.
Each moan from your throat and each kiss from your lips dragged him down deeper and deeper until he collided head first with the stunning, yet so painfully obvious, realization that he was deliriously in love with you. It was insane, he knew that. But it didn't make it any less true.
"Joel," you gasped, pulling him out of his trance and back to the present.
"Yeah, baby? I'm here. I'm right here," he whispered, planting soft kisses all over your face.
You bit down on your lower lip and squeezed your eyes shut. The sheer intensity behind his gaze coupled with the agony of only getting to experience this for one more short week made tears burn in the backs of your eyes.
You felt your orgasm begin to swell deep in your belly while your breath became more ragged and your vision went spotty. It shouldn't feel this good. This was cruel, to be able to experience something like this just to have it brutally ripped away from you. It wasn't fair, yet you never wanted it to stop.
He could feel it. It's been years, and it was never, ever like this, but he still knew. The way you whimpered and clawed at his back while your walls squeezed him so tightly, he thought he might pass out.
"Open your eyes," he panted. "I wanna look at you."
You forced your eyes open, now unable to hold back the tears that pooled there as two drops trickled down the side of your face, getting lost in your hair.
"It's okay, I got you," he whispered lovingly, staring deep into your eyes, seeing everything you didn't dare say out loud.
"You can let go, baby," he told you, his hips snapping against you ruthlessly, desperate to come at the same time.
You felt the wave rip through you like fire, the power and emotion behind it unlike anything you ever felt before. More tears poured from your eyes as you cried out his name, your thighs squeezing his hips so tightly you weren't sure you would be able to stand after.
He followed seconds later with a deep groan, spilling himself deep inside you while murmuring praise and wiping away your tears with his thumb.
"Why're you cryin', did I hurt you?" he asked, his voice filled with so much concern that it broke your heart. You shook your head, wiping the tears away with the back of your hand, but fresh ones just took their place.
"C'mon, talk to me," he urged, leaning up a bit as he softened inside you.
"What are we gonna do, Joel?" you blubbered pathetically. He took a shaky breath in and tenderly tucked your hair behind your ear.
"I don't know, baby, but we'll figure somethin' out. We gotta," he said with a sigh.
"I can't lose you," you whispered, pressing your forehead against his and closing your eyes.
"You'll never lose me, I can promise you that," he replied, pressing a gentle kiss against your swollen lips.
He waited until your tears slowed down before sliding out of you with a hiss. Rolling off to your side, he wrapped his arms around your middle and pulled you close against his chest, and as you finally drifted off in his embrace, he thought about all of the options available before you, determined to find a solution.
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Tag list: @lola8888673 @pedropascalsbbg @nandan11 @sushiumex @serenadingtigers @jjlevin @survivingandenduring @amyispxnk @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @merz-8 @wonyoungismind @fandomscollide @anoverwhelmingdin @cayleejx16 @msjjekyll @lizzie-cakes @hexedbywanda @harriedandharassed @joeldjarin - lmk if i missed anyone, if your name is crossed out it means it won't let me tag you
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cordeliawhohung · 4 months
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i’m going feral for shy!reader x mafia!underboss simon like i need him flirting with her at johns club and her blushing hard at him lighting touching her cheek but also she doesn’t really know how to flirt and is getting all flustered but he enjoys watching her get flustered while there’s a crowd of people around them
oh i've had an idea about this brewing in my mind for a bit and i'm so glad that i can use you a catalyst to make it everyone else's problem <3 think of this as a part 2 to this drabble here
mafia!141 masterlist
warnings: fem!reader, fluff and flirting, some tension, mentions of alcohol/club settings, reader is too shy for her own good lmao, short-ish drabble/oneshot
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The very appearance of the building in front of you spoke volumes, warning you to turn around and run away while you still could. Dark, thumping music sounded more like an alarm than it did something to dance to, and the stench of alcohol was strong even from outside. To make things worse, you were very much out of your depth not only in location, but in the clothes you wore. Some short, scantily dress your friend insisted you borrow from her because a simple pair of jeans and a t-shirt simply wouldn't do in a place as high profile as her husband's club. You tried to feel confident, or at least appear so. Tried to straighten your back and relax your face as if you were above everything in that building, but you were never very good at pretending.
However, nothing was worse than the fact Simon fucking Riley stood outside the door to greet the two of you. At first, you almost didn't recognize him with the face mask on and the long sleeves covering his tattoos, but you'd recognize those eyes of his anywhere. So dark in the dim lighting that attempted to illuminate the area outside of the club, you knew you would get lost in them if you stared at them too long.
"Evening, ladies," he greeted. His voice was all too familiar, and you tried not to think about how you still felt his breath on your ear when he taught you how to shoot pool.
"Riley," your friend whined, "don't tell me John sent you."
He crossed his arms over his chest, and you found yourself having to look away from how his biceps bulged with the movement. "Boss's orders."
"So much for girls night," she muttered.
"Don't worry 'bout it," he assured while his eyes flickered to you. "You won't even know I'm here."
And he was right. Mostly, anyway. Once he led the two of you into the building, up past the lower level and up into the elevated and sparsely dense VIP section of the bar, Simon had pretty much blended in with the shadows. You and your friend were unbothered while you enjoyed your free drinks (thanks to either John or Simon, you didn't know for sure) all while you tried to ignore the fact you were in your a place that utterly terrified you.
Of course, all good things had to come to an end. Eventually John emerged from somewhere in the mass of bodies that surrounded you, and your friend, who was more than a little tipsy by that point, hung off of his arm within an instant. And it was kind of cute, watching the way John rested his hands on her hips while she tried to make him dance with her. Yet, at the same time, you got secondhand embarrassment from it, so you averted your gaze as you looked down at the dance floor on the lower level. There were so many people packed together, jumping and dancing to the music, that it looked like a pulsing mass of flesh. The sight of it mixed with the alcohol in your stomach and you started to feel queasy.
"Wanna get some fresh air?"
You hadn't even realized Simon had walked up to you until he was right next to you, arms resting on the railing that separated you from becoming a messy stain on the lower level.
"Huh?" you asked, not because you hadn't heard him, but because you were somewhat perplexed by his offer.
Though his mouth was covered by that black medical mask, you could still see his smirk crinkle the corner of his eyes. Before he explained any further, his hand gently reached up where he grazed his thumb along the flesh of your cheek. Your breath hitched in your throat, and you found yourself utterly frozen by the gesture. You tried not to think about how warm his hand was on your skin, or how your stomach fluttered at his touch just like it had the last time his skin had grazed yours. As you tried to hold back a shiver, you silently prayed no one was looking at the two of you.
"Thought we could give the lovebirds over here some alone time," he finally continued as he pulled his hand away from your face. He flicked his middle finger along the flesh of his thumb, as if he had taken something on your face and was getting rid of it, but since he didn't even bother to look at his hand before doing so, you couldn't help but wonder if there had even been something on your face to begin with.
God, it was fucking hot in that building, and the cool night air was a welcomed feeling on your exposed skin. Towards the back of the VIP section was the entrance to the terrace, where plenty of people still mingled about, but it was significantly more quiet than inside. Simon led you underneath the hanging lights over to a dark corner where the railing looked too sketchy to be safe or up to code.
"You smoke?" Simon asked as he dug his hand into the pocket of his jeans.
You watched him carefully as he took out a pack of smokes and started beating the bottom of the carton against the palm of his hand. His fingers wrapped around the object with ease, and you swallowed hard as you shook your head.
"Good," he hummed as he removed his mask and lazily shoved it into his pocket, "don't start."
You didn't mean to stare, and you really hoped he didn't notice, but it was impossible for you to tear your eyes away from him. How could anyone expect you to when the cigarette sat so perfectly between his lips while he lit it? It only got worse when he held it limply between his fingers and exhaled the smoke out into the night air.
"You look good," he commented as he nodded his head at you.
"Oh, uhm," you muttered in surprise. You stared down at yourself and the obnoxiously sequined dress your friend insisted you wore and self consciously pulled at the skirt. "Thanks. I'm, uh, just borrowing the dress."
He hummed as he placed the cigarette between his lips again. "You'd still look good despite it."
This was strange. Something you weren't used to. Being complimented. Having someone look at you in a way that made your stomach churn, and it only got worse the longer you stood there speechless. And you tried to come up with a response, but the wider his smirk became, the harder it was for you to formulate a sentence.
And god, he wouldn't look away from you, like his eyes were stuck on you for the rest of eternity. Not even as he stepped closer to you. It felt like he was the sun, and the closer he got the warmer you felt until you were rendered breathless. He was so... close and just so... fuck. Fuck you wished he'd stop looking at you like that. Like he wanted to eat you alive, like he wanted to devour you, like-
"We should go back inside." The words left your mouth, no matter how hard you tried to hold them back. It was all too much at once, between the crowd of people, how flustered this man made you; all of it was too much.
"Right," Simon hummed. "Should make sure Mrs. Price isn't getting in too much trouble," he teased.
Yet, neither of you moved. Simon raised the cigarette to his mouth again and took a long drag of it. Instead of turning his head to the side to exhale, he leaned his head back and let the smoke drift up and out of his mouth. And you were stunned, eyes locked on him as he did so, too captivated by the skin of his throat and the curve of his Adam's apple to look away. Then his head rolled back down where his eyes found you once again and his lips pulled into that signature smirk he could never seem to wipe off when he was around you.
He gestured towards the door that led back inside of the club as he flicked the ash off of his cigarette. "After you, sweetheart."
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writing this gave me the worst thoughts ever. what if shy!reader is a virgin? someone needs to sedate me at this point. hope y'all enjoyed more of our boy :3
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nicoline1998enilocin · 4 months
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His innocent assistant
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Pairing | Tony Stark x Lab Assistant!Fem!Reader
Word count | ~ 600 words
Summary | Tony's feeling a little needy, and he can't resist asking his sweet, innocent lab assistant for help. You don't like seeing your boss in any discomfort, so you're more than happy to help out.
Rating | Explicit (E)
Warning(s) | Use of nickname: Sweet Girl, innocent Reader
Smut | Reference to a blowjob, cockwarming, Daddy kink, slight size kink
A/n | I found this deep down in my drafts, and I want to thank @ccbsrmsf1 for sparking this idea at the time. This is my little present from me to you this Christmas! 🩵
A/n 2.0 | This isn’t proofread, any and all mistakes are my own.
Events Masterlist | Free Space | @marvel-smash-bingo
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Banners: @vase-of-lilies | Divider: @firefly-graphics | GIF: @ccbsrmsf1
Main Masterlist | Tony Stark Masterlist | Read on AO3
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"C'mere, Sweet Girl, Daddy's having a problem, and he needs your help to fix it," Tony says in a sweet voice, knowing exactly what to say to get you to listen to him and do exactly as he says.
"Is everything okay, Daddy?" You ask, still a little unsure of calling him Daddy, but he assures you that it's normal for lab assistants to call their bosses Daddy.
"M perfect, Sweet Girl," he tells you as he's eyeing you in your dress that hugs every curve to perfection. It's one of your favorites, and you put it on because Tony told you he liked it the last time you were at one of Tony's parties.
"It's okay; you can get closer. I won't bite." Stretching out his hand, you put yours in his, and he guides you over to him, and that's when you see he's incredibly hard. Seeing you doing as he asks has him hard beyond belief, and he can't believe he has such an obedient, innocent, sweet thing as his lab assistant.
"D-Daddy, are you in pain again? I can help it go away again! Last time, it worked, too!" You tell him excitedly, referring to when you helped "cure" his pain by sucking him off.
"I am Sweet Girl, but I don't think that medicine will work today. I think the one that might help me feel better is in your Princess parts," he says, meaning your - now soaked - pussy.
"But Daddy, it's so big I don't think it will fit!" You tell him with a frown and slight pout, making Tony only hornier. He's never been more glad with someone as innocent as you.
"Don't worry, Sweet Girl; Daddy will make sure it's going to fit, and when it does, you can sit on my lap and keep me warm; how does that sound?"
After thinking about it for a few seconds, you happily nod, wanting to do anything you can to help your boss get rid of his pain. He takes a seat on one of the rolling chairs in his lab before unbuckling his belt and opening his pants, finally able to free his thick, long, veiny cock.
Your eyes are immediately drawn to it, and you start to salivate at the sight, biting your lip while subconsciously squeezing your thighs together for a little relief.
"I'm ready for you, Sweet Girl," he tells you before pulling you closer, and one of his hands glides under your dress to your soaked pussy.
"Did you not wear panties today, Sweet Girl? Hmm, and I can already feel the medicine, but it needs to be in before it can work," Tony says as he guides you to straddle his lap.
You've never been with someone as big as Tony before, and it is quite a stretch since he's long and thick, but your pussy it's tight and small, making it a bit of a stretch. With a deep groan, he slides you onto his cock, and loud moans escape your lips, unable to hold them in. It's not that Tony would want you to do that, anyway.
"Oh, Daddy! Feels so good," you tell him as you experimentally roll your hips a few times, but his large hands quickly stop you on your hips.
"You just need to keep me warm, Sweet Girl; that's the best way for the medicine to work,'' he tells you. Once you're finally comfortable, you lean into Tony and place your head on his shoulder, earning yourself the praise you've been dying to hear from him daily.
"Good fuckin' girl,'' he tells you with a deep groan before getting comfortable and letting you melt into his hold as he returns to what he was doing.
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seonghwaddict · 3 days
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the best of the best — jeong yunho
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in which yunho didn’t expect his tiring shift to end with fucking the prettiest girl who’s ever walked into the clinic.
ripperdoc!jeong yunho x fem!reader. genre. smut. cyberpunk 2077 au. warnings. non-sexual use of daddy, explicit sexual content mdni, big dick!yunho but what else is new, fingering, BACKSHOTS, yunho is a tease, implied voice kink, creampie, he gets a little rough, nicknames (pretty, baby, princess). wc. 2.5k. rating. mature.
lilo’s notes. this is really REALLY rushed because i was hit with inspiration and started writing without actually stopping so like sorry if it’s ass lol. her cyberware is based on this.
DEFINITIONS. ripperdoc; medical practitioners that can install cybernetic prostheses, called cyberware // eddies; game currency. feel free to ask for any clarifications.
listening to. cyberpunk, ateez (duh).
masterlist.
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yunho sighed as he threw a bloodied towel into the sink, hands finally clean after having installed some new cyberware on a customer. his day was spent operating edgerunners, never quite seeming to catch a break. but what else could he do as the best ripperdoc in the district, let alone this shithole of a clinic? besides, he somewhat liked his job and the pay was well, his way with words getting customers to give him a few more eddies than they were obliged to.
but, alas, it was finally closing time and he’d no longer have to deal with people until the next day. or at least that’s what he hoped.
the familiar sound of the clinic’s door rang through the lobby, singaling someone had entered before he could lock up and making his sigh in exasperation. he pinched the bride of his nose, calling out over his shoulder from the backroom, knowing whoever it was would still be able to hear him. “we’re closed, come back tomorrow!”
“please, it’s an emergency!” the person replied and he froze.
a desperate, feminine plea. yunho can’t say he’s used to hearing that tone in the clinic. with furrowed brows, he emerged from the backroom to the lobby, right behind the counter as he laid his eyes on you. he was obviously much taller than you, looking up at him with round doe eyes and softly flushed cheeks. you wore a short black skirt and a loose sweater; not a sight he was used to here either, not that he was complaining as his eyes momentarily flickered to the sliver of cleavage exposed by the low neckline. maybe he could make an exception… no. he wanted nothing more than to go home, and a pretty little thing like you couldn’t just magically change his mood.
“my ‘ware has been acting up and i heard this is the best clinic in the area,” you walked closer to the counter, one of the steps looking particularly painful as you winced mid-sentence and stumbled before continuing, “please, sir, i promise i’ll pay you well.”
he down at you with a raised eyebrow, letting a beat of silence wash over you before he finally answered with a sigh, “fine. go through that curtain and wait on the table. the metal one.”
you followed his hand to see him pointing at a curtain much like the ones separating beds in hospitals. with a quiet nod, you shuffled over as he ducked through the door he previously came out of. there was a small space behind the curtain and it reeked of hand sanitiser as you sat down, the table cold against your thighs. you smoothed your skirt down as he walked through the curtain and set down a tray of tools on a desk pushed against the wall.
“so, where’s the problem?” he asked, crossing his arms and giving you a once-over that had you feeling a little nervous.
“my back,” you muttered, looking down at your hands shyly as they played with the hem of your sweater, “i’ll have to take this off, if that’s okay.”
“oh, um…” he blinked before nodding and clearing his throat, moving to stand behind you. “yeah, it’s fine, go ahead.”
after a moment of hesitation, your body stretched lightly as you pulled the shirt over your head, his jaw nearly dropping at the sight. an intricately designed thin silver chrome spine merged with your skin and extending from between your shoulderblades down to just above your ass. instinctively, he reached out and brushed his fingers down the length of it, biting his bottom lip as he caught the way your back arched slightly.
“god, you’re a masterpiece.” he couldn’t help but sigh out as he let his fingertips explore the metal and the skin surrounding it. the clasp of your bra covered up just a little bit of it, but there was plenty more to see. after a moment, he caught a glimpse of a little spark in the metal on the small of your back, humming. “i see the problem… must be some sloppy wiring. i’ll take care of you, baby, just relax and stay still. you can do that for me, can’t you?”
“y-yeah.” you practically squeaked out, mentally slapping yourself for making it obvious how his words and touches made you feel.
he grinned but didn’t say anything, reaching for his tools and beginning to work. as he did, he deliberately brushed his fingertips or his wrist against your skin, against anywhere he could reach while fixing the wiring between the blades of the metal spine, just because he enjoyed messing wiht you. your waist seemed to get the most reactions out of you, unable to hold back your hitched breaths and your thighs pressing together. you were so sensitive and sweet, trying to hold back all your sounds as he riled you up with teasingly calculated touches.
“how’d you pay for this, anyway? a mod like this must’ve cost a fortune.”
“my daddy paid for it,” you explained with a shrug, “i’ve been wanting something like this for forever, so he let me get it done on my 18th birthday.”
he raised his eyebrows in surprise, nodding with a soft smile. “well, baby, you must be daddy’s pride and joy if he’s willing to drop so much on an implant like this that does nothing but make you look that much more appealing.”
“appealing?” you echoed his description of you, glancing back at him over your shoulder, “you think so?”
“of course, i’m not blind,” he roles his eyes playfully, licking eyes with you before going back to work, “in fact, i’m jealous i wasn’t the one to install all this ‘ware.”
it didn’t help that as he talked, his breath fanned over the back of your neck since he adjusted the table to raise you higher for him to work more comfortably. you learned each other’s names as he talked you through the procedure, trying to distract you from the occasional prods of a needle and sparks of the wires. he also liked to watch goosebumps form on your skin and the way your back arched just a little more as he responded to your words with low hums or muttered acknowledgments.
his hands feel a little colder than your skin as he barely runs them down your back, eyes trained on the gleaming metal. the tips of his fingers momentarily dipped below the back of your bra before slipping out again.
“does anything hurt?” he asked quietly, in a tone he noticed always made you stutter a little.
“n-no.” you shook your head before holding your breath, feeling his hands covers your waist and move down slowly, holding your hips lightly.
“good.” he hummed, nodding and removing his hands before stepping away from you completely.
the loss of his hands made your brows furrow as you looked at him, stepping into your line of vision with his back turned to you as he put away his tools.
“did you need something, princess?” he tilted his head at the sight of the pout you were trying so hard to hide, voice taking on a mocking tone.
your cheeks warmed and your brain short-circuited as he took a step toward the metal table he sat you on, standing a breath away from your knees and leaning down to your eye level. his hands braced on the table of either sides of your hips. if he wanted to, he could lean forward just a few inches and his lips would finally press against yours.
“you.” you blurted out without thinking, unable to process any thoughts in the flustered state he put you in.
“me, huh?” yunho chuckled, silky and low, fingertips brushing against the hem of your skirt as he pulled himself up to his full height and looked down at you. “a ripperdoc like me who works in heywood fixing cyberware? you need me, baby?”
flustered and a little speechless, you could only nod, lips parted as you left out soft breaths and looked up at him with eyes that begged him to kiss you. his hands left your skirt but found you again quickly, one on your waist and the other cupping the side of your face, half of his hand buried in your hair as he leaned down and finally pressed his lips against yours.
a whimper made it past you as his tongue swiped along your bottom lip before slipping into your mouth, mingling with yours and exploring. you felt him smile against your lips as you let out that sound, his fingers in your hair holding you a little tighter as his hand on your waist slid down your thigh. you, however, didn’t feel that hand moving until his fingers pressed against your soaked panties, somehow easily finding your clit through the fabric and eliciting a whine as he pulled his lips away from you.
“so wet and i’ve barely done anything.” he whispered, kissing you again as he nudged the fabric aside to run two digits through your folds, quiet squelching sounds mixing with your little moans and whimpers as he circled your clit excruciatingly slowly.
not expecting his hands to feel so good, you couldn’t stop your hips from squirming, unable to kiss back very skilfully. he circled your clit with just the right speed and pressure, keeping you restless as your pussy clenched around nothing and click slowly dripped out to smear against the table and inner thighs.
yunho gave your swollen nub a sudden pinch and you winced, your hands on his biceps clenching as he pulled away from you with a click of his tongue. “didn’t i tell you to stay still, princess?”
you parted your lips to respond but could only moan languidly as his fingers easily pushed themselves into you, crooking and perfectly prodding against your sweet spot.
“do my fingers feel too good? is it too much for you, pretty?” he mocked with a fake pout, drawing his fingers out before pushing back in. you felt his hand drop from your hair to reach for something and with a push of a button, the table lowered itself smoothly.
moments later you were on your knees, facing away from him, hips pulled up and chest pushed down. some time while he moved you to this position, he managed to remove your skirt and bra. your nipples brushed against the cold surface of the table, shuddering at the feeling combined with one of his hands kneading your ass intently while the other ran down the length of your spine. as he got to the small of your back, he pushed down a little harder, making your back arch.
“hm, so pretty and perfect,” he hummed as his clothes and very much erected cock pressed against your flushed core. you let out a broken whine, burying your face into your forearm comfortably, his fingers sliding through your folds again and spreading them apart. he groaned at the sight, your wetness glistening in the neon lighting of the clinic, spread between your thighs messily, needy hole fluttering.
when he finally pressed his tip into you and eased his way in, your breath hitched followed by a moan of his name, hands clenching as you pushed back against him. he steadied your hips with his hands, eyes rolling back from your tightness as he bottomed out and stilled to revel in the feeling if you wrapped around him for a moment.
butterflies roared in your stomach as he leaned down and kissed the top of your spine sloppily, pulling out before rolling his hips against yours. you weren’t used to this angle, especially not with someone as huge as him, but your embarrassing amount of arousal made it easy for him to move. you cursed softly, a string of whines and moans falling from your swollen lips as his fingers dug into your hips and his teeth explored your upper back, licking and sucking and biting marks into your skin.
“f-fuck, you feel s-so good.” he moaned, forehead dropped between your shoulder blades for a moment before he straightened up again, pulling your hips against his harshly as he thrusted into you, teeth sunk in his bottom lip.
not long after that you felt a knot quickly tightening in your abdomen, feeling your breath knocked out of your lungs with each snap of his hips. one of his arms wrapped around your waist before venturing lowers so he could rub at your clit quickly, the knot drawing tighter and tighter until you couldn’t take it anymore.
“y-yunho- i’m g-gonna-“
“let go, baby. go on, be a good girl and cum for me,” he cut you off, voice gentle despite his rough movements, snapping the waistband of your panties against you, “you’ll cum for me, won’t you? i’m making you– fuck, i’m making you feel so good, right? p-please cum, baby, just let go.”
his words egged you on and soon enough you did as he said, shuddering and clenching and squealing as you came all over his cock, your juices drooling down his length as he continued pounding into you. his hand left your clit to grab your hips tightly, chasing his own high now that you finished. knowing what he needed, you clenched around him rhythmically, whimpering softly because you knew he liked the sound.
without warning, he spilled himself inside you, filling you up with his hot release. your combined panting and shivers filled the area as he emptied himself. once he collected himself, he pulled out slowly, shuddering as he did so before tucking your panties back into place before his cum could seep out of you. he flipped you around easily and found your lips.
you kissed each other lazily for a while, mind foggy after your orgasms. you gasped against his lips softly as you felt his fingers press right on the fabric covering your hole.
“if you can keep everything in while i close up, i’ll take you to my place for another round… or maybe a few more,” he kissed your cheek, reaching to the side and giving you your clothes before tucking himself back into his pants, “if you’re up for it, of course.”
you giggled, also kissing his cheek in return. “i’d like that, actually. you have a really good dick.”
“is that so? good thing a pretty girl like you only deserves the best.”
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networks. @cromernet @wonderlandnet @cultofdionysusnet @pirateeznet @atzhouse
permanent taglist. @ad0rechuu @sankatchu @mlink64 @yeosangsbb @seonghwasbbgirl @likexaxdaydream @dreamingofyeo @yalyallic @yunhoswrldddd @coffee-addict-kitten @thunderous-wolf @chngbnwf
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shunsuiken · 2 months
Text
DON’T FORGET WHO’S TAKING YOU HOME (and in whose arms you’re gonna be).
pairing(s). kaeya, childe, ayato, kaveh, neuvillette x fem!reader
genre. fluff
wc. 200-400 for each character
an. AND SING WITH ME 🎤🎤 SO DARLING SAVE THE LAST DANCE FOR MEEE michael buble literally left no crumbs with this song i had to write about it omg + ALSO happy valentines day everyone !!! i may not have a valentine this year but im happy to post this for anybody feeling a little lonely today !! you are so so loved okay ?!!! come and collect a kiss from me before reading on 💋 MUAH have a lovely valentines day !!! <33
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kaeya alberich
you’re really good at hiding, kaeya thinks to himself with a huff and a smile on his lips. searching all over the plaza for you was making him break a sweat in his navy blue tuxedo. with another turn around the corner he decides to remove his tuxedo jacket for the time being, folding it over his arm to carry instead.
“no, no, no klee! stop it! you can’t play with your things here, if you blow things up-”
“-master jean will put me in solitary confinement…”
oho, kaeya recognises these two voices very well. he finds it so hilarious that at the end, his feet lead him right to you! not even a single thought was processed as he turned the corner two seconds ago but here you are.
he hides behind the large potted plant, listening to the conversation you and the beloved spark knight share. he stays there until it becomes quiet between you two.
“kaeya, you peacock, i know it’s you.”
kaeya lets out a baffled noise, finally showing himself from behind the plant, offended by the ridiculous nickname you gave him. “snowflake, how dare you?”
“klee, don’t eavesdrop on people like this man when you grow older, yeah?” you point animatedly at your lover, who’s folding his arms and scoffing at you.
klee only giggles, nodding her head. “i gotta go find albedo now!” you watch as she skips off towards the plaza, waving goodbye.
you then turn towards your next problem that stands behind you. “i thought you were out dancing?”
“i was, but they’ll start playing the last dance soon and how can my last dance not be with you?” your lover walks towards you, pulling you closer by your waist with his free arm. you immediately wrap your arms around his neck, smiling softly at his intentions.
you hear an announcement echoing from the plaza before you can reply, and you figure it might have been mika because of how timid the voice sounded.
“good evening everyone, please bring all your friends and company over for the last dance of the night!”
“sounds like our queue.” you slide your arms off his shoulder to grab his hand, pulling him with you without warning.
“oh snowflake, hold on-” kaeya almost trips on air and the sounds of your laughter bounce off the concrete floor and walls as you drag him down the staircase leading to the plaza.
childe
you can never refuse ajax’s request for a dance, because he won’t take no for an answer. especially when it comes to dancing. your feet hurt so much. you’re so ready to just fall on top of your bed and go to sleep. but the only thing that keeps you wide awake, heart pumping and everything is the look on your lover's face.
his gaze usually has this inhumane and dull look to them, but you find that whenever he looks at you or when he participates in something he loves, his gaze finally twinkles. it works so miraculously too. like all of a sudden life was returned to him and he could see.
the smile on your lips grows when you think about this. you think it’s sweet how you’re one of the reasons that the life in his eyes returns.
ajax notices the tighter grip you hold on his forearm, making his lips curl in curiosity. “what’s going on in your head, baby?”
you zone in on the situation, you’re still dancing, and you shake your head in response. “nothing, ajax.” you want to keep your thoughts to yourself but when ajax smiles at you like that, with the most expectant look on his face, you can’t help yourself. “actually, i just thought about the dance.”
he twirls you around to the music before connecting arms with you again. “you just thought about the dance?” his brow quirks in amusement.
“no, no not like that,” you say with a sheepish chuckle before continuing, “i just thought that this number is the longest one so far.”
“well of course,” ajax responds with an eye smile. “it’s the last song.”
“it… is?” you look up at ajax while trying to fight the urge to look anywhere else.
if this is the last song… and you’re dancing with him… then that can only mean-
when the choreography allows ajax to pull you against his chest, he leans down so he can whisper in your ear, “you will be my final dance partner tonight.”
kamisato ayato
these few days at fontaine have been strumming the strings of your heart like a guitar—ayato has been spending so much time with you that you’re beginning to think of such ridiculous conclusions. his eyes that linger on your face, his hand that hovers on the small of your back when leading you out of a hall and it’s just these little things that he does with you that makes you want to claw an entire curtain off its rod. one time he even poured you a glass of wine before taking a sip with the same glass—it’s like he’s forgotten he’s the yashiro commissioner!
thoma and ayaka barely bat an eye. but also, they’ve known ayato for much longer than you have since you were a recent (and lovely) addition to the little family. so… perhaps this is just how he acts?
“uh-huh, when he’s courting someone that is.”
the sentence that thoma said offhandedly is the only thing that rings through your mind. but your thoughts must’ve shone through your expression because ayato is quick on his feet to smoothly guide you off the dance floor, gloved hand still holding yours as he brings you to a less crowded area—the balcony.
“you appeared to be distracted, that’s why i pulled us away,” ayato breaks the silence and your train of thoughts.
he’s still holding my hand—is what you’re repeating in your head. your eyes can barely focus on a single object within your field of vision. your bottom lip quivers at the revelation you’re carefully starting to uncover.
“i am not distracted,” you inhale sharply when you accidentally meet ayato’s gaze. “i…” your brows crease as you try to get words out of your mouth.
ayato brings your hand up to his lips, placing a chaste kiss on the back of your hand and you can physically feel the blood rush up to your fingertips. “would my lady like to return to the hotel?”
your voice leaves your throat in but a hoarse whisper, “what did you just call me?”
you hear a chuckle from ayato and it makes you snap your head around in embarrassment. this new term of endearment rolls off his tongue way too easily, the rascal must have been practicing!
“oh no, no, no, my lady, you must look at me,” a grin appears on ayato’s face at your attempts to hide your expression and when he finally gets you to look at him, you’re caged between his arms.
“why would you call me that?” you whine at his teasing.
“well i just couldn’t keep it to myself anymore,” ayato murmurs, a dust of pink decorating his cheeks. “will you allow me to call you that?”
kaveh
three hours. it’s been three hours since you and kaveh decided to learn a cute couples dance routine ‘for funsies’. whose idea was this again? weren’t you two supposed to be just friends? doesn’t kaveh have a client meeting tomorrow that he should be preparing for?
“so we do this—then this and then we’re supposed to oh—!”
the silence is deafening. the song playing in the background fades as you both stare at each other, even mirroring the same expression. eyes as wide as saucers. lips just inches from connection.
kaveh’s breath fans over your lips and you can hear the audible gulp he makes at the closeness. he’s also entirely aware that the red in his cheeks has reached his ears by now. while you, on the other hand, have started hearing the percussion of your heart in your own eardrums.
“o-oh…” your legs are frozen in place and hang on a second, why haven’t either of you let go?
his hand is respectfully sat on your waist, while the other is occupied holding your hand. you hear him inhale and it grabs your attention before you can get anymore lost in his gaze. his gaze observes your lovely face, eyes flickering from one feature to another as he whispers, “has anybody ever told you you’re pretty up close?”
you shake your head ever so slightly. “no.”
kaveh likes this answer, humming as he ponders for a moment.
your eyes sparkle when that handsome smile of his appears on his lips. he chuckles shortly at your expression, your palm feels so warm when connected with his.
“i’m glad i’m the first to tell you.”
neuvillette
“oh dear, neuvillette,” you chuckle softly, walking towards him as he takes another sip of his water. he stands in a more secluded corner of the hall, briefly greeting guests with a nod of the head. which is why he stands out like a sore thumb—arctic white hair, designer blue suit and a piercing gaze.
but that gaze doesn’t fool you. the dragon sovereign is probably pondering on retiring for the night and is only still present to keep up with appearances.
“yes, lady y/n?” it’s to nobody’s surprise that he heard you from metres away.
when he turns around, your eyes immediately land on the problem you’ve sensed since you returned from the dancefloor.
“your tie,” you reply, standing in front of his figure, nonchalantly raising your hands in preparation to adjust the garment. “will you allow me to fix it?”
the gears in neuvillette’s mind pause abruptly at your question. he certainly has no problem readjusting his own tie. his hands aren’t holding anything else other than his cup of water—which he can definitely put down on a nearby table!
but why can’t he bring himself to say no?
the ‘of course’ leaves his lips faster than he would have liked, but that’s no matter, your expression shows no sign of displeasure. instead, he watches your sweet smile brighten.
when your fingers reach the tie, neuvillette notices how you tiptoe to reach him. so he does what any normal person would do—he leans down.
it catches you off guard, the tips of your fingers just slightly grazing against his neck in the process. you profusely apologise in whispers to which neuvillette can only chuckle at.
“it is no trouble lady y/n, i appreciate the kind gesture.” the corner of neuvillette’s lips curve, his hands neatly tucked behind him as he allows you to redo his tie.
neuvillette’s lips only seem to further break into a smile as he watches you pat on the tie in completion.
“there, all finished.” you look up at the iudex, chuckling, “you ought to learn how to do this yourself.”
neuvillette hums, “perhaps you could teach me.” he takes your hand, gently brushing his lips against your knuckles before kissing it. “but for now a dance shall suffice, would you care to join me?”
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loveinhawkins · 10 months
Text
The problem is that a part of Steve knows the spider isn’t real.
But it’s the suggestion of it, right? Cobwebs in his hair, movement just out the corner of his eye; it’s all enough to convince him that there’s something crawling on his skin, to let out a panicked whisper to Nancy, there was a spider. It’s a black widow.
He tries to disregard it as a one-off. It’s an old creepy house. Just got him spooked for a bit, that’s all.
But then… diving into Lover’s Lake. Bats biting into his flesh. Overwhelming dizziness.
Nancy wrapping torn strips of clothing tight around—there’s something crawling, crawling underneath his skin, no, there isn’t, no, there—a bike ride through The Upside Down; one hacking cough, pushing through it, pushing through it—
Swallows it all down. Ignores the sweat, the tackiness around his bandage. Shh. Calm, calm.
Drives the RV. Doesn’t know how he’s even moving, is just grateful—grateful that his mind on autopilot seems to still function.
The War Zone. In and out. Parked. Sun in his eyes. Kids outside.
The feeling comes back. Something. Something under his skin. (In his blood, in all of him—)
“S’there something in my hair?” he asks Eddie, who’s mid-step out of the RV.
Eddie turns back with an air of amusement. “Nope,” he says. “Looks perfectly coiffed to me, man.”
“Can you—can you just check?”
Look closer, something’s wrong, something’s wrong.
“Uh, sure,” Eddie says, bemused. He sits next to Steve and tilts his head before lifting a hand uncertainly. “You want me to, uh?”
“Yeah, thanks. Just… there was a spider on me.”
It’s not what Steve wants to say at all, but there’s a sudden, terrifying disconnect between the thoughts in his head and what actually comes out of his mouth.
“Oh, you don’t like them, huh?”
Eddie’s not even teasing, just sounds understanding; he lifts up a few sections of hair carefully, taking his time. He’s so kind. Steve abruptly wants to cry.
“Yeah, I don’t blame you,” Eddie continues. “I have the same thing with mice. The way they move. Creepy little feet.” He shudders dramatically.
Steve wants to laugh at that. Can’t.
Eddie runs his fingers through Steve’s hair a couple more times, gentle.
You don’t have to, Steve thinks. Make it hurt. Get it out. Did you find it? Please say you found it.
“Good news, you’re officially spider-free, Harrington.”
Eddie claps him on the shoulder, stands up.
Steve doesn’t move.
Eddie pauses again, halfway out the door. “Hey, you okay?”
“Yeah,” Steve says. “Just need some air.”
He goes through the motions of prepping for the fight. Chats with Robin. She talks about a terrible, gnawing feeling, and he wants to scream yes, I know, I know, but he can’t tell her, why can’t he tell her?
Shh. Calm, calm.
Drives the RV. Forest Hills.
He brakes with no warning, sends bottles of alcohol rolling across the floor. He’s mad suddenly that they didn’t smash. He’s so—
Slip away.
Eddie’s trailer. Lets himself in.
Bathroom.
The wound on his stomach pulses. He doubles over the toilet. Throws up.
His skin is crawling.
There, in the back of his mind, a creeping coldness. A thought that is not his own.
I will kill them all. And I will make you watch.
Oh, God. Oh, God, he’s been so stupid.
-
Eddie finds him first.
He picks up one fallen bottle of alcohol before a gut feeling pulls him out of the RV—because Steve Harrington is a good driver, and he’d only brake like that if he had no choice.
“Steve?”
But Steve’s not waiting for them on the porch, he’s not even by the Gate.
Clattering; a strangled cry.
Eddie’s stomach lurches.
He runs towards the noise, opens the bathroom door and is instantly hit by the acrid smell of vomit.
“Steve! Jesus Christ.”
Steve’s pushed up against the cistern. There’s a damp patch all across his stomach, and his chest is heaving.
“Oh my God, Steve, what’s—”
Eddie reaches for him instinctively, and Steve flinches as if he’s been struck.
“No, don’t!”
“Jesus, you’re burning up,” Eddie whispers, drawing his hand back; Steve’s skin is feverishly hot, slick with sweat. He looks around frantically for a cloth, turns on the cold water. “Gotta get you cooled—”
Something slams into him; he’s pinned against the sink, Steve’s hand clamped around his throat.
“No,” Steve repeats. “Don’t.”
“Okay,” Eddie manages. He chokes on a swallow. “S-Steve, you’re—you’re—”
His hand flails, trying to pry Steve’s fingers off.
Steve’s grip loosens ever so slightly. His eyes are wide, bloodshot. Pleading.
“Eddie,” he says through gritted teeth. “You need to hurt me.”
With the last of his strength, Eddie gets his knee up and jabs—it’s barely anything, but it works enough to break Steve’s hold.
Eddie staggers; his back slams against the door. He’s shaking.
Steve stares at him. He’s gripping onto the sink so tightly that Eddie thinks it’s a miracle that it doesn’t crack.
And then there’s a horrible, guttural noise like Steve’s started to choke too, like he’s at war with himself.
Barely audible, he says, “Get… get Nancy.”
Eddie runs.
He nearly falls into Nancy as he opens the front door. He’s breathless, can’t think of what to say, save from—
“Wheeler, he needs you.”
It happens in an instant: Nancy’s brow pinches, and then she goes very pale, and she’s shouting for Robin and Dustin to stay in the RV, like she can turn on a dime, launched into an unknown crisis.
She pushes past Eddie, and he follows her, back into the bathroom.
The cold water is still running.
Steve’s got his hands in the sink. He looks at Nancy desperately.
“S-stop me.”
Another choking sound is ripped from Steve’s throat; Eddie realises that it’s actually a dry sob.
“Nance,” Steve says. It’s half her name, half a pained whine. “Fuck. I’m sorry. I—I know everything.”
And then he’s suddenly launching towards them—it’s only the fact that he’s so completely freaked out that makes Eddie move in time, saves him from getting strangled again.
He grabs Steve’s wet hands, pins them behind his back and tries to hold him still.
“Jesus! Wheeler, what the fuck is going—”
“Do you have anything that can knock him out?” Nancy says.
“What?”
“Drugs, Eddie!”
“Are you crazy? There’s no way—oh my God, what are you—”
Crack.
Nancy’s grabbed the cistern lid, brought it down upon Steve’s head. Eddie looks at Steve lying eerily still on the floor in abject horror.
There’s blood in his hair.
Eddie feels sick.
But Nancy just watches, as if to confirm that Steve’s not moving. She looks Eddie in the eye.
“Come on. That’s only gonna work for so long.”
Eddie just follows her out, too shocked to even attempt speaking.
It’s chaotic at the RV; Dustin sees them coming, leaps out of the door as Robin yells at him.
“Where’s Steve?”
“Get back inside.”
“Nancy, where the hell is he?”
“We can talk inside.”
“Bullshit, I’m—”
“Dustin, he’s Flayed,” Nancy says, her voice breaking, and all the fight goes out of Dustin at once.
“No, that’s—he can’t—”
Eddie finally finds his voice. “Can someone tell me what the fuck you’re talking about?”
Nancy doesn’t speak, not until they’re in the RV, the door locked behind her.
“I think it’s the—the bites—”
Robin swears, a hand over her mouth.
“Flayed?” Eddie persists.
“The Mind Flayer,” Dustin says numbly. “It’s what we—it’s a part of The Upside Down. It—it used Will to… to spy on…”
“And what, it’s—” Eddie swallows. “It’s inside him?”
“Like a virus. He’s part of the Hive Mind,” Nancy says.
Eddie’s knees feel weak.
“Fuck,” Dustin says. “He knows where we are, he’ll know—”
“It’s too late to change that,” Nancy says. “We just have to—at least someone needs to stay with him.”
“I will,” Robin says instantly, eyes blazing.
“Me too,” Dustin says.
Nancy glances at him, shakes her head—firm but apologetic. “You can join Erica.” And as Dustin opens his mouth, no doubt to argue, she adds, “I’m sorry, Dustin. It’s just—we might need to… to fight him.”
Dustin doesn’t reply, but looks so utterly devastated that Eddie wishes he’d insisted on diving first, that the bats had torn into him instead.
“Keep him warm,” Nancy tells Robin urgently. “And I don’t mean just—it’s got to be unbearable.”
Robin nods, ashen-faced.
Nancy catches Eddie’s eye. “The one thing that fucker can’t stand is heat.”
She paces up and down the RV, checking for stray bottles. Then she comes to a stop right in front of Robin.
“He—he might beg,” she whispers. “And it won’t—it’ll sound like him. Like he just wants the pain to stop.”
Robin’s eyes look glassy. “Nance, I don’t—don’t know if I can—”
“I’ll do it,” Eddie says.
He feels everyone’s eyes on him, but he just looks at Nancy, at the determined set to her jaw.
He doesn’t know when he made the decision, if he can even pinpoint a conscious moment of thought—but now that the words are out, he feels the vow he’s made, deep in his chest.
Nancy hands him a bottle and cloth.
A lighter.
She fixes Eddie with a piercing look. “It’s going to look like you’re killing him,” she says.
Eddie nods.
He turns, offers Robin his hand.
“C’mon, Buckley. Let’s get that bastard out of him.”
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lnfours · 8 months
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ruin the friendship | l.n
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summary: i’m not sure if you’re taking requests or not but i was wondering if you would ever consider doing a fwb/roommates fic for lando like the one you did for tom? i absolutely love your writings!! -> yes anon, my requests for lando are open :))) also i listened to ‘don’t ’ by bryson tiller while writing this so feel free to listen to it while you read <3
warnings: friends with benefits!! language, sexual tension u can cut with a knife, neck kisses, nothing too crazy, jealous roommate lando 🫣
masterlist | ask box 💌 | listen
₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊
you stood in the kitchen, stirring the pot on the stove as soft music played from the speaker on the counter. you hummed softly, the door closing catching your attention, making you spin around in your socks. the voices entered the kitchen and you smiled at your two roommates.
“mate, you’re crazy,” max laughed, “i don’t understand how you did that.”
“because i’m a great golfer, that’s how,” lando said, putting his phone on the island as he pulled a stool out to sit, “how was your day, y/n?”
you turned back to the stove, “it was alright, i guess. got some work done, went to the store, the usual. not nearly as exciting as you two’s day it sounds.”
max smiled, patting lando’s shoulder, “mans was a beast on the green today, should’ve been there,” you shook your head with a smile, thinking about the last time the three of you were on a golf course.
let’s just say, drunk people shouldn’t drive golf karts. max continued, “oh, how was your date the other night?”
lando’s ears perked up, his head snapping away from his phone. you grabbed the pot with the oven mitts, pouring the spaghetti into the strainer, “it was alright, nothing special.”
“you went on a date?” lando didn’t mean it the way it came out. you looked over your shoulder at him, “with who?”
“some guy who was all over her the other night at the club,” max said, “was it not good?”
“he’s kind of a douche,” you said, bringing the spaghetti back to the pot and adding the sauce, “didn’t have a good time.”
“sorry to hear that, y/n,” max said before standing up, “‘mgonna go shower.”
you and lando nodded, his eyes going back to watch you as you fixed dinner. you met his eyes, “you have a staring problem, norris.”
“you didn’t tell me you were going to go on a date with that guy.” he said. you dropped the spoon in the pot, reaching up to grab plates for everyone.
“didn’t know i had to tell you all of a sudden.” you shrugged. he stood from his seat, walking over to you. you backed up against the counter, ignoring the butterflies in your stomach as he placed his hands on the counter, basically trapping you between the counter and him. he had a slight sunburn on his nose from being in the sun all afternoon, his sunglasses were still pushing back his curls, and his eyes were damn near mesmerizing.
“suppose you don’t,” he said, “did he bring you flowers at least?”
you shook your head and he clicked his tongue, reaching behind you for a plate, “that’s a shame. i would’ve brought your favorite.”
“do you even know my favorite?” you asked, eyebrows furrowed as he turned around to the stove. he put his plate down on the counter next to you.
“of course i do,” he said, “your favorite flower is a sunflower, and if im not mistaken you have a tattoo of a sunflower right…” he trailed off, lifting up the edge of your hoodie and pointing to your hip, “here.”
his finger touched the exact spot the tattoo was, his touch burning through the fabric of your sweatpants. his smirked as you met his eyes again, grabbing his plate as he moved back to the other side of the island. of course he knew where it was, it wasn’t like he hadn’t seen it before. he knew all the ins and outs of your body at this point.
“dinner smells good,” max said as he reappeared, in a t-shirt and a pair of pajama pants. he looked at you with furrowed eyebrows as you tried to regain your composure, “you alright? look like you just ran a marathon.”
you nodded, grabbing your own dinner, “i’m good.”
he nodded but still gave you a look. after dinner, max went to go stream but lando stayed back to help you clean up. you were washing dishes as he placed them in the sink. once all of them were collected, he wrapped his arms around your middle. you leaned back slightly, tilting your head to the side to let him place his head on your shoulder.
“going on dates with other guys when you still fold every time i do this?” he joked and you huffed, laughing softly.
“i don’t fold every time,” you said, “i pick and choose, and i guess today is your lucky day.”
he pressed a gentle kiss to your jaw and you couldn’t help the soft noise that came from your throat, “hmm? don’t fold every time?”
you rolled your eyes, “it’s been a while.”
“too long,” he mumbled against your shoulder.
“i need a shower,” you complained, turning around in his arms.
“me too,” he said, brushing a stray hair from your face, “wanna save some water?”
you laughed, shaking your head, “you shower with the water too cold.”
“you’re the one who likes it boiling hot! it’s a wonder you don’t pass out in there.”
you rolled your eyes, “maybe you’re just dramatic, did you think of that?”
he fake gasped, “me? dramatic? never.”
you nodded, stepping away from him, “keep telling yourself that.”
“seriously, come shower with me,” he grabbed your hips, pulling you back to him. you let out a soft laugh as he pouted, “please.”
you let his lips go to your neck, giving into him the second time today, “no, lan.”
“cmon,” he said, “it’s the least you could do for going on a date behind my back.”
“you were the one who wanted to keep this,” you waved your finger back and forth between your two bodies, “a secret.”
“not anymore,” he said, “i’ve thought about it, let me take you on a date. a proper one. i’ll get you flowers, take you to the restaurant downtown you love that you go to with your friends. i’ll pull all the stops, you deserve it.”
you smiled softly, “only if you promise to wear that black button up shirt you wore last weekend.”
he raised an eyebrow, “you liked that, huh?”
“maybe,” you smirked up at him.
“okay, then you have to wear that red dress you wore on the night out the other night.”
“deal.”
he smiled before lifting you up off your feet. you laughed, wrapping your arms around his neck, “where are we going?”
“my bed,” he said, carrying you down the hallway and shutting his bedroom door with his foot, “because now i can’t stop picturing you in that dress.”
“thought you wanted to shower?”
he sat you down on his lap, hands wandering under your hoodie as yours tugged on the hem of his golf shirt, “need you more than a shower right now.”
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hxltic · 1 year
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pt.2!! (i know that cliffhanger was menacing) 800 followers hello?!
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part 1 | part 2
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It was weird. It felt weird.
You sat with your chest bare, Kenma contemplating his own conscientiousness and conscious before you. Should he have any integrity, he would turn you around and fulfill what you came to do.
But he doesn’t. Intrusive thoughts win, so he dives straight into you to suck on your tits like a fucking baby.
Just watching in amusement as he tugged and nipped, it looked like Kenma was genuinely enjoying himself when he licked the bud in a single stripe, cat eyes gazing into yours devilishly by the way he could feel your back has a slight arch to it. His pale hands roamed from the small of it to your shoulder blades.
Your manicured fingers tread through the black locks that cover his tinted cheeks and reveal his long, black eyelashes. You mentally curse him for having them. Your upper back begins to stray away; Kenma just follows.
You connect strands of hair behind his ear (which he greatly appreciates you for) because he needs to see you, your curves, and body in all the bright rainbow light from the edges of his setup.
He removes the slim shirt entirely and discards it randomly in the room. He couldn’t care less where it landed. He grasps—literally grasps— both tits in each hand before looking up at you ordinarily, but in an anticipating manner.
“Take the rest of it off.”
“Say please,” you announced. Yes, you asked first, but you could still have a little fun (and refresh his manners).
“You do realize you’re literally in my hands right?“
“…So?”
He just blinks up at you and rolls his eyes in obduracy.
“Please, take the rest of it off.”
You tap a fingernail to your chin, “Hmm… say it like you mean it.”
If you could describe the ravenette’s face right now, it would be the most unamused you’ve ever seen him.
Kenma grabs you and roughs you off him, twists you ‘round, and adroitly unbuttons your jeans from behind you. Done with your shit, he peels them down and brings your panties along. He then pulls you back down to him backwards.
“See? Easy peasy,” he comments.
Slightly embarrassed from being absolutely manhandled, you shuffled against his front and dug your head into his sweatshirt on his left shoulder.
“Are you shy now? Not too long ago you were asking me to—”
“Shut up- Shut up.”
A giggle sounds behind you and lengthy, soft fingers trail up to your plush thighs anyway, then leads more inward. He pats twice to ask you to open up for him. You comply in spite.
With two delicate fingers he spreads you open, a third experimenting by dipping into your wetness. You were already getting throbbing having thought about it all day. Your friends constantly conversed about what their partners did and how good it felt, so you want as close to that as possible, but the problem is that you’re doing it while being unaware of how skilled Kenma actually is. You’re starting to question whether he was the right person or not. Or whether it holds up to its name. Or if you can do it at all.
He caresses you, rubbing the pad of his finger in circular motions against your clit.
“Okay,” his chest rises and falls, “just relax and think about whatever boy toy you want.”
You ignore his taunting. Your eyes trail downwards. He was going so slow, but if you thought you’d have Kenma pawing at you by the end of the night you had to be on something. So, you do what he asks of you and shut down any tense nerve in your body.
“There you go,” as you soften against his front, now two of his fingers locate your nub and continue the circling. Your thighs are spread apart on each chair arm, facing the dark idle screensaver Kenma had, the plush actively being kneaded between his free hand. Your center was tingly but not the trademark “oh my god!” tingly. It felt good but you weren’t screaming just yet.
Almost in time, he curls his hand farther forward and dips a finger into you. It was very slowly done for reactive purposes, and with your sight deactivated, the reaction he expected from your chest was granted. He sinks deeper and deeper until his palm is flat against you. Thanks to his patience, you were definitely wet enough.
He stills inside.
“I can’t do anything if you won’t breathe.”
“Sorry,” you apologized, and let out a breath you had no idea you were holding. His thumb reddens your clit even more while the other hand releases your thigh and slides up your body to tighten on your breast. You feel used with his hands all over your body, but in a good way.
Your regular breaths graduated to heavy ones, and those graduated to groans. Your voice wasn’t very high pitched anyway. When does the good part come?
The inactive hand rotated to your clit, while the other focused mainly on gyrating through your walls. His long finger reached places yours couldn’t, and adding a second would only increase the chance of him finding that single pile of nerves that could make you go haywire. He was close but he didn’t think to resort to that just yet.
Two of his hands meet around your front like a hug. His articulated digits roll inside you, each roll a tug on your resistance. A little to the left or a little to the right. His hand curled somehow even deeper on the hunt for your g-spot, so he takes a mental note: up and to the right.
“Oh shit,” your hips slightly stutter.
He smiles, “Right there?” and pesters the previous patch. Your hips lift off him the tiniest bit and your hand reaches up mindlessly. Really you just needed something to occupy yourself. He goes at it again and again, your tummy folded yet moving with him as he’s still going too slow when your body is screaming for more.
You rub his nape in an attempt to focus on anything else. Your arm is geniusly wrapped between the two of you by journeying under his neck. Your reflection in the screen is unbeatable, Kenma working you like it was his millionth time doing it. Everything had a job and you just had to sit and take it.
“That’s definitely you,” he mused. He kissed under your ear on the right side. You could say you weren’t feeling much all you wanted, attempting to lower his ego, but your contorted expression spoke differently with inaudible words. At some point his speed increased.
You unintentionally grind on him as your hips falter halfway. He tries his best to ignore it and keep your high ecstasy going because it was: A, the meaning of this entire operation; B, you’d be sore anyway, better to make the best out if it; and C, had he acted on it you would’ve squirted all over his dick. Which option C isn’t necessarily a problem, it’s just he’s almost certain you’d like to see yourself do it.
“Feels good Ken,” you mumble. The squelch sound could now be heard, and you both listened as he slotted himself in the crook of your neck and your head was thrown back on his shoulder. It was dead silent in the apartment, so silent you could hear your own thoughts and maybe even each other’s.
It sure seemed that way, because Kenma persisted with a finger and stimulated you simultaneously. Your head rolled back and forth, your calves flexed, and your pretty pink toes hung off the chair arms. The clip in your hair hadn’t bothered him one bit.
“Kenmaaa,” you insisted.
“I’m here, tell me,” he indulged. Your breaths were practically weights, yet shallow at the same time.
“Gonna come soon.”
“I got you. Just let it happen.”
Kenma knew you were close before you did. Hell, he was a part of your body now. Obvious signs were shown like when you tighten around him and your muscles contract, informing him everything was already in motion. The orgasm washes over you like a tidal wave, taking you and your brain out to sea, but not your body. In fact, it left your disappointment behind too.
Nothing happened.
It took you a second to realize this though— considering it was still one of the best orgasms you’ve ever had—but also because Kenma hadn’t stopped.
“Please,” unaware of what you were calling for, you turned to his face, but he was already so close like he was waiting for you there. He’d slowed only a bit, but this makes little difference already being hypersensitive. Once again, you’re grinding on him, it’s just rougher now and more effective at getting him any harder than he already was.
You talked face to face and couldn’t decide what eye to look in. His lips were so close, and so very inviting. You kiss him.
Soft lips unite with yours meaningfully. You hadn’t known it would progress to this, however, Kenma now occupies your entire body, being, and mind. If you could dismiss how hard he was overstimulating you, just maybe you could kiss him with the passion you desired—but that was reaching because you couldn’t find the strength to kiss him back at all. Your lips were open yet hushed in all attempts to return the gesture, but your body fails you under the hands of lust.
You felt another coming. Your eyes had this faded look to them as if you weren’t here, so Kenma brought it upon himself to whisper to you.
“Tell me what you want and it’s yours.” His voice was soft in the air.
You respond with a light headed moan. Fuck all that shit about your voice not being high and you couldn’t pornstar moan, because to some extent it was and you really could.
“K-Ken I can’t—“
“You can,” he interrupts, “anything you want baby.”
Your hand quits fidgeting with the loomed bracelets adorning his wrists to move down to holding the both of his that were working you. The attempt is futile, because even if you did manage to get one hand away, the other would still be toying with your pussy. The veins that stretched from his muscles all the way to his forearm could be seen clear as day. Kenma adds another finger, and doubles into you as it sinks up and to the right.
“Oh fuck, Kenma, Kenma-“ you repeated. You tried pushing him off, except you wanted him to continue, except that you were in no state of mind to make decisions. Your back arched impressively and you were on the verge of crying. This quick?
He constantly acknowledges you, “Uh-huh.”
Kenma almost triples in speed. He continues to whisper to you. “Do it. I know you can. Show me how you come for me.”
You don’t feel it, but Kenma plants his feet and swivels the chair around as your mouth drops. You were pushing outward more than downward, and as Kenma pistons into you, there was no way you weren’t about to squirt. Just preferably, not on his monitor. He kisses at your face now turned away from him. “Just like that, you’re almost there. Open your eyes.”
“Oh my god oh my god oh my god-!” you breathe.
Kenma quickly runs back and forth over your clit encouragingly and doesn’t let up. This wasn’t a wave that rolled over you this time, but one that came up to shore first, dragged you along into sea, and sucked you under. It felt normal until it didn’t and you were releasing all over his carpet.
“You look so fucking good like this. Knew my girl could do it.”
Your hair was fucked from rolling on it. You had came so hard your body tensed and slightly cramped, rendering you idle as he continued until you were done. The clear liquid rolled down your own leg. You felt as if you were underwater. Your head bashed like there was no oxygen. Kenma was a man of few words but after you got what you deserved, he didn’t have shit to say.
He gripped your thighs, lifted them, and slowly lowered them to his. A darker color stained his sweats. Was it from you, or him? Neither of you know. His hand pets your forehead gingerly.
“Your girl?” You ask lazily.
“I think we both know you wouldn’t have let anybody else do this,” he establishes. He was right.
sorry if it’s not as good as first!! it was supposed to come out earlier but my dumbass queued it for the wrong day 🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️ also did you catch the easter egg😏😏 (I made this a little shorter to match up with the time it takes to…yk… that’s why all of my fics that aren’t penetration are shorter)
@iwouldbangchan @hislaevv @butterflyk04 @lilmisskreideprinz @ahahadumbo @bontensbabygirl @ninefuckingoneone @hwangsyunho @privthemis @anonymoussimper @frenchinator2sickk
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steddiealltheway · 8 months
Text
I just BARELY made the deadline in my time zone, but I did it! This is for Lex's Summer Challenge, Dialogue prompt #25 :) Thank you @thefreakandthehair for organizing this!! <3
It's New Year's Eve, and Steve is not excited. 
The kids have all mostly agreed to stay together, setting off fireworks at the Wheeler's house. Robin has a band thing, meaning she will try to cozy up with Vickie but chicken out before the New Year's kiss. And Steve... he plans on checking in on Max who hasn't confirmed if she is going to Mike's. 
Things have been rough for her since Billy passed only a few months ago. She hates the trailer she had to move to, and as far as Steve can tell, her mom isn't around much. And if she is, she isn't sober. 
The worst thing is that Max doesn't open up to anyone, but there isn't much Steve can do about that. What he can do is drive to her place and bring her dinner. 
He goes about making her way too much spaghetti and makes the drive over. The sun is starting to go down, but he just hopes he can make it home in time to put on headphones and pass out before people start celebrating the new year.  
He just doesn't want to make it anyone else's problem that he no longer likes the look or sound of fireworks – flashes triggering migraines and memories of Russian torture – so he's put a plan in place. Luckily, everyone should be too busy with New Year's celebrations to pay him any attention. 
He pulls up to Max's trailer and parks outside, walking up to the door and knocking quickly. He waits a few seconds, listening for the sound of footsteps coming to the door, but they don't come. He pulls his jacket a little tighter around himself, shifts the tub of spaghetti from his left side to the right, and knocks again.  
After waiting a few minutes, Steve turns and notices the sun is now on the horizon. 
He glances around the trailer park, cursing himself for not bringing his walkie. His eyes land on a van at the trailer across the way that looks somewhat familiar. He notes that there are no negative thoughts that accompany looking at it, but rather, he feels a bit indifferent to it. 
He starts walking that way, hoping he knows the owner, and further hoping that they're nice enough to let him use their phone. He walks up the steps and knocks before stepping down. 
Luckily, this time he hears the sound of footsteps from inside and a bit of muffled cursing before the door swings open. 
Oh. That's how he knows the van. 
Eddie Munson looks down at him, totally bewildered, and shifts uncomfortably, eyes flickering toward the spaghetti while asking, "What are you doing here?" Before he can answer, Munson gets a look of realization and answers himself, "Right, my great supply." 
"No," Steve says quickly. "I just need to use your phone." 
Munson quickly stiffens again. "Why?" 
Steve sighs and shifts the tub again which has started to feel heavier with every passing moment. "My friend lives over there," he says, throwing his thumb over his shoulder, "And I need to check if she's okay." 
"No way," Munson says, hands coming up before he crosses his arms, "No way I'm letting you use my phone to call some hookup." 
"It's not a hookup. She's in middle school." 
"What?" Eddie asks, looking even more horrified. 
"Not like that!" Steve says and runs his free hand through his hair. "She's friends with a group of kids that I babysit." 
"And why do you want to call her?" 
Christ. "Because I'm worried about her, okay? She's not someone who asks for help, and she's not answering the door. I just need to know if she's safe at her friend's house." 
Eddie stares at him for a few more seconds then asks, "What’s the spaghetti for?" 
"Her." 
He's fixed with the same suspicious stare until Eddie finally nods his head and opens the door for Steve to come inside. Eddie gestures to where the phone is and leans back against the kitchen counter, crossing his arms and watching his every move. 
Steve tries to shrug it off as he dials the Wheelers and waits for one of them to answer. 
"Hello?" 
Steve smiles and politely replies, "Hi, Mrs. Wheeler, it's Steve." 
"Oh, Nancy is currently-" 
"No, no," Steve cuts her off, seeing the way that Eddie is starting to tense up. "I wasn't calling about Nancy. I was just wondering if Max was there with the other kids. I stopped by to check on her, but she didn't answer the door." 
Steve can feel his heart thud in his chest as he waits for the reply. "That's very kind of you. But she's with the boys right now. Did you want me to pass a message to her?" 
"No," Steve says in relief. "No, I just wanted to make sure she was okay. Thank you, Mrs. Wheeler. Happy New Year." 
"Happy New Year, Steve," she replies and hangs up. 
Steve puts the phone back and turns to Eddie. "Thanks, man. I owe you one." 
Eddie tilts his head to the side and narrows his eyes. "Why do you care about her so much?" 
Steve sighs and gestures toward the counter with the container of spaghetti in hand. "Can I?" Eddie nods in response, so Steve sets it down. He runs a hand through his hair and asks, "Do you remember Billy Hargrove?" 
Eddie scoffs, "Like I could forget the asshole." 
Steve nods. "Well, Max was his step-sister." 
"Oh," Eddie says, shifting uncomfortably. 
Steve shrugs. "They didn't have the greatest relationship, but she's been really closed off since...” he trails off uncomfortably, trying not to remember the moment he died. 
Eddie nods his head. “Right.” 
Steve nods back and gestures toward the spaghetti, changing the subject. “You can have that by the way as a thank you for letting me use your phone. I really appreciate it. And hey, Happy New Year.” 
Eddie’s jaw drops slightly as if he wants to say something but none of the words come out. So, Steve walks to the front door and opens it. He doesn’t even move a step down the stairs before a big firework lights up the sky as the loud noise rings out. 
Steve freezes. He feels his breathing getting shaky and shallow as he remembers the fireworks exploding on that spider looking thing’s back. 
He closes his eyes tight, trying to fend off the images, but the darkness only reminds him of the black that slowly devoured his vision when the Russians knocked him out.  
“Hey, hey,” a soft voice says, “I’ve got you.” 
Steve notices the way he’s somehow on the ground with his back pressed against something warm and that same heat wraps around his torso. He blinks back into reality a bit as warm hands run up and down his arms slowly. “You okay?” 
Steve sinks back into Eddie’s arms and closes his eyes. "Fireworks aren't exactly... my favorite thing." 
Eddie breathes out sharply through his nose. “Yeah, I kind of picked up on that.” 
Steve just nods, allowing himself to be comforted for a few seconds before he tenses up and begins to stand up. “Sorry,” he apologies as he makes his way back to the front door. “Don’t know what got into me.” 
He puts his hand on the door handle, moving his body to block Eddie’s view from his shaking hand. 
“Hey,” Eddie says close behind him, “Just stay until the fireworks stop. I don’t want you driving into my trailer on the way out or something.” 
Steve turns and asks, “Are you sure?” 
Eddie nods and gestures to the container. “Plus, there’s no way I can eat this whole thing on my own.” 
Steve is about to say that he’ll be fine when another firework goes off outside, startling him again. “Okay,” he agrees, wondering how the hell this is going to end up. Steve “The Hair” Harrington and Eddie “The Freak” Munson spending New Years together. 
Eddie hands Steve the container and grabs two bowls and forks before walking off. Steve follows behind him to what he assumes to be Eddie’s room, slightly confused about the change in scenery. 
“Sorry it’s a mess. I wasn’t expecting visitors,” Eddie says awkwardly shoving things around. 
Steve just smiles as he looks at the room. “I like it. It feels comfortable,” he confesses. And it does. With the way his parents force him to keep a spotless room that never feels lived in, it’s nice to be in a bedroom that really reflects someone. 
Eddie considers him for a moment and just nods as he takes the container and sets it on his dresser alongside the bowls before pointing at his stack of tapes. “I’m going to guess our music taste isn’t really similar, but feel free to dig through for something you might like that’ll drown out the fireworks.” 
Steve’s heart skips a beat at the thoughtfulness before he makes his way to the tapes, digging through several unfamiliar names that he kind of wants to ask about, but instead he can’t help but ask, “So, what are you doing alone on New Years?”  
Eddie scoops himself a generous amount of pasta as he answers, “Gareth is at a school thing, Jeff is with his family in New York, and Grant’s parents kind of don’t like me.” 
“Why’s that?” 
Eddie fixes Steve with a look. “I’m not exactly ‘meet the parents’ material, and it doesn’t help that I used to hold band practice in his garage and would play louder whenever they told us to quiet down.” 
Steve smiles. “I would love for you to do that to my parents. God, they would be so pissed.” He grabs another tape and instantly smiles and holds it up to Eddie. “I love Queen.” He immediately puts it into the cassette player and turns the volume up enough to block out additional noise while still being able to hear Eddie talk. 
He turns and finds Eddie handing him a bowl and fork with a soft smile on his face, “You know, you’re not what I thought you’d be.” 
“Yeah?” Steve asks. 
Eddie nods and sits cross legged on his mattress. “Honestly, I thought you’d be an asshole. You know. King Steve and all that shit.” 
Steve runs a hand through his hair as he sits next to him. “I don’t think I’m ever going to live that down.” 
“You will if you get out of Hawkins,” Eddie says, shoveling a forkful of spaghetti in his mouth. 
Steve twirls his pasta and stares at it. “I don’t know if I’ll ever leave here,” he confesses. 
“Why not?” 
“I’m not smart enough to make a living somewhere else. Plus, if I move, my parents likely won’t support me – my dad likes keeping me under his thumb. And the kids need me to drive them around.” And they need him in case Hawkins gets another dose of Hell, but he can’t tell Eddie that. “Plus, I don’t think there’s anywhere that would accept me, a former jock and asshole whose only friends are children and Robin. And they’re all so smart that they’ll eventually realize they’re dumb for keeping me around.” He stabs at his spaghetti before putting the bowl down and resting his head in his hands. “I don’t know, man.” 
There’s a pause, and Steve hears a dull thud from a firework outside the trailer even over the music that startles him a bit. It’s so damn annoying that something small like this can reduce him to this. 
“Run away with me.” 
Steve head slowly comes up. “What?” 
Eddie wipes his mouth and sets his bowl on his side table. “Run away with me,” he repeats. “After I graduate, I’m going to run like hell out of here. Come with me to find a place that accepts a former jock and a...” he trails off and looks away nervously. “Uh, a freak,” he awkwardly fills in. 
The bowl in Steve’s hand suddenly feels like it’s in the way, so he sets it on the floor before turning to Eddie and leaning closer to him, hands itching to reach out. “Come on, you can tell me what you were really going to say.” 
Eddie searches his eyes before laying back on his bed dramatically, trailing his hands over his face. “You know what I was going to say. You’ve heard the rumors. Everyone has.” 
Steve has heard several rumors about Eddie, including one about how he worships the devil and does satanic rituals on top of his trailer in the middle of the night. But he has a feeling he knows which rumor he’s talking about. “Yeah, but rumors are rumors for a reason. You never know which ones are true.” 
Eddie sighs and looks up at Steve. He looks like he’s on the verge of telling him before he asks, “So, why aren’t you with your friends tonight? The kids or Robin.” 
He looks down at Eddie for a few moments, wondering if he’ll drop the question, but he holds his ground. Steve shrugs. “Robin is at the thing with all the band kids, chickening out with her crush, and the kids don’t want their babysitter around. Plus, they want to launch fireworks or play Dungeons and Dragons or something.” 
Eddie perks up and sits up on his elbows. “Dungeons and Dragons? The kids you babysit play that?” 
“Yeah. And don’t make fun of them for it. They talk about it all the time, and I think it sounds cool,” Steve says, always quick to defend Dustin even if he’s into weird nerdy shit. 
Eddie sits up entirely and looks at Steve excitedly. “You think Dungeons and Dragons is cool?” he asks in disbelief. 
Steve shrugs in response. “It’s not really my thing, but yeah.” 
“Dude, I’m the leader of Hellfire. You know, the Dungeons and Dragons club at school? What are the kids' names?” 
“Dustin, Lucas, and Mike.” 
Eddie bounces up and down excitedly. “Holy shit, I thought Dustin was kidding when he said he was friends with you.” 
It suddenly clicks, Dustin had mentioned Eddie’s name before, but Steve had never really thought about it as Eddie Munson of all people. “Shit, Dustin talks about you all the time, I just never connected the dots.” 
“He doesn���t shut up about you. The kid adores you. He’d kill me if I took you away from here.” 
“And he’d kill you if you ever left.” 
Eddie smiles and nudges Steve. “Looks like we’re both stuck here.” 
Steve smiles back at him, eyes tracing over Eddie’s face. He’s not sure why he’s never really noticed him before. He guesses he’s always been so stuck in his own shit that Eddie just kind of passed him by somehow. But he’s finally noticing his dimples, and the way his eyes are so deeply brown and easy to get lost in, and his lips looks so full and- 
Eddie lightly shoves him back, a pink blush appearing on his cheeks, “Eat your spaghetti before it gets cold.” 
Steve grabs his bowl and does as he’s told, watching as Eddie gets up to turn up the music a little louder. When he sits back on the bed, the two eat in comfortable silence, letting the music fill the space. Steve’s not sure if he’s ever been able to warm up to someone so quickly, but it makes sense that he’d be able to bond with someone who loves Dustin. 
The song ends and goes into the next. Steve finishes his last bite of spaghetti and laughs as “Somebody to Love” starts playing. He puts his bowl down and lays back on the bed, letting the song wash over him. He sings the lyrics under his breath until he hears Eddie doing the same thing and turns to look up at him. They lock eyes just in time to sing, “Can anybody find me somebody to love?” 
Eddie laughs and lays next to him joining him through the rest of the song. Steve feels ridiculous, but Eddie makes a show of playing air guitar, yelling, “I know how to play this!” Steve just laughs and watches him, feeling his heart beat a little faster in a way it hasn’t for somebody else in a while. 
He sings the rest of the song, mainly focusing on Eddie and the way he so easily gives into the music, unafraid of what Steve might think. As it comes to an end, Steve feels something shift inside him, but Eddie is quick to laugh, “Steve Harrington how can you be struggling to find somebody to love?” 
Steve smiles sadly. “I think I’ve been looking in the wrong place all along, but I’ve been starting to think that maybe I’m unlovable.” 
Eddie scoffs and moves closer to him. “If you think you’re unlovable then there’s no hope for the rest of us.” 
Steve has to move closer to hear him over the music and talk without shouting. “Does that include you?” 
“What do you think?” Eddie asks, tilting his head with a curious smile. 
“I think,” Steve starts, unsure of how he’s going to finish the sentence, “If there’s no hope for you either, then maybe...” 
“Maybe?” Eddie prompts. 
Steve’s eyes glance down at Eddie’s lips. “Maybe...” He looks up at Eddie’s eyes, seeing the confusion, slight fear, and hope. “Maybe you should finish what you were going to say earlier.” 
“Steve...” Eddie says, “You can’t be asking me...” 
“Then, I’ll ask you. Is it midnight yet?” 
Eddie’s eyebrows furrow in confusion. “Not even close.” 
“What if I lie and say that it is so I can ask you for a New Years kiss?” Steve asks boldly. 
Eddie’s breath hitches. “Then, I’d say yes and start counting down from ten.” 
“Nine,” Steve says immediately. 
“Eight,” Eddie replies, shifting onto his knees. 
“Seven.” Steve scoots closer, leaning in to brush their noses together. 
“Six,” Eddie exhales. 
“Five.” Steve’s hands come up to hold onto the back of Eddie’s head. 
“Four.” Eddie’s hands press into Steve’s back to bring him closer. 
“Three.” Steve tilts his head, already brushing his lips against Eddie’s, sending a shiver down his spine. 
“Two,” Eddie whispers, hands gripping on tighter, left hand tracing up between his shoulders to slot their torsos together. 
“One,” Steve says, barely finishing the word as he presses his lips against Eddie’s, finally ending the longest countdown of his life. 
He deepens the kiss immediately, tasting spaghetti and a hint of something that is purely Eddie which he finds entirely intoxicating. 
The music fades from one song into the next, and Steve’s pretty sure a firework goes off in the silence, but he’s too distracted by Eddie to really respond to it. He feels Eddie’s arms tighten around him, slowly guiding him down to lay back on the bed. 
Eddie breaks the kiss to look down at Steve. “This okay?” he asks. 
Steve nods and says, “Happy New Year.” 
Eddie smiles and shakes his head in disbelief. “Happy fucking New Year.” 
He finally understands why people cheesily talk about fireworks going off during a kiss. And maybe even with everything, fireworks aren’t too bad if this is what he can associate them with. 
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upsidedownwithsteve · 2 months
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Eddie Munson x fem!reader [1.2K]
Written for @carolmunson’s writing challenge. Feel free to join in, you can find the rules here 🧡 everyone say thank you to Carol for taking the time to create something so cute.
“If you don’t stop, we’re gonna have a problem, sweetheart.”
Eddie was grumbling, but it was all affection and barely any real scolding in his voice. It’s why you laughed, a dirty cackle that only came out when you were properly tipsy and you continued your harassment as the boy juggled the his keys and your wobbling frame.
You were still snickering, nuzzling at the boy’s neck, your hands slipping up the inside of his leather jacket and t-shirt. You were bolder after a few drinks, tongue tasting like cranberry and something stronger, tequila shots that Robin brought to the table going down like water and Eddie had declared it was home time when you draped yourself in his lap, glassy eyes on his lips as he tried to talk to Steve.
“You normally - oops - like it, oh fuck, when I touch you,” you bashed your shoulder on the doorframe when Eddie finally managed to coax you inside, your hands still vying for his attention.
Eddie was pink in the cheeks, unused to seeing you like this, the relationship still new, your affection still overwhelming at times. You were a cute drunk, tipsy and hiccuping as you let yourself flop onto his sofa, mumbling something into the cushions. He followed, leather jacket throw on the armchair and he bent, untying your shoes and smiling when you hummed, your toes wiggling in your socks and he pretended to bite at them, snickering when you squeaked.
The trailer was lit by just the streetlights, the rest of the park and the town asleep, quiet in the darkness. Eddie seemed to make the navy shadows a little brighter through, everything about his brash and intimidating exterior melting away to a soft gentleness, just for you.
“C’mon, sit up for me, babe,” Eddie coaxed, pulling at your wrists until he was able to manhandled you into the sofa corner. “M’gonna get you some water and then we’re going to bed, alright?”
“Yessir,” you slurred but the salacious intent was there, all flirt as you tried to wink but one eye simply wouldn’t cooperate.
“You’re jokes, tonight, kid,” Eddie snorted and busied himself in the kitchen, heart overflowing with affection for you, a kind of fondness that clung to the spaces between his ribs and it was times like these he wondered how on earth the town pariah managed to bag a girl like you.
“Here,” he murmured as he walked back over. “We ran out of like, nice cups, is this okay?” Eddie handed you a mug in the shape of some sort of creature.
If you’d been more sober, you would’ve thought it was some sort of demonic Bigfoot, but you were too busy eying at spikes that protruded from the rim of the mug. You glanced back at Eddie warily, accepting his offer with a grimace.
“Watch for the horns,” he whispered when your tooth clinked against one. You groaned, flipping him off as you chugged most of the water, eyes slipping shut and Eddie’s hand found the back of your head before you tipped yourself backwards too much. “Jesus, sweetheart, don’t drown yourself.”
“Sounds like an easier way to go than how m’gonna feel in the morning,” you groaned, already feeling sorry for yourself. The third shot of tequila was a horrible, terrible idea. You vaguely remembered Eddie wincing at you from across the table as you knocked it back. You held the evil Bigfoot mug to your chest and waved him away, almost as dramatic as Eddie himself. “Jus’ leave me here to rot.”
“Aw, don’t be like that,” the boy pouted, hiding his grin behind pursed lips. He was kneeling in front of you again, warm wide hands running the lengths of your thighs and the guitar string callouses on his fingers scratched against your skin just right. “Don’t rot here. S’an awful place to deteriorate. You can rot in bed w’me.”
“Can’t,” you told him mournfully, your empty mug slipping onto the cushions as you let yourself lean forward, face finding Eddie’s neck. He smelled like smoke and spice and the cologne you’d got him for Valentine’s Day. “I’ll be a pile of sludge. Sludge and tequila. So disgusting.”
Eddie snorted, throughly entertained at someone else being dramatic for once. His hands made their way from your legs to your back, slipping nimble fingers inside your T-shirt so he could skate them along your spine. If he hadn’t know any better, he would’ve sworn you purred.
“Hey now, that’s not even close to being true,” he tsked, nudging your head with his until you whined and pulled back, facing him with a pout. He pushed his nose against your own. “My girlfriend is the prettiest pile of sludge.”
It was still new enough that you both got a kick out of him calling you his girlfriend, your body buzzing with a giddy kind of excitement that made your nose crinkle when you beamed at him.
Your forehead touched his, Eddie’s unruly curls brushing your cheeks and his fingers dipped lower, pressing into the dimples on your back and he held you there, fully encouraging whatever it was you were about to do.
Your lips brushed his, a barely there kiss that probably tasted like tequila and cherry liqueur but you were too drunk to care and Eddie really didn’t mind at all.
“You think I’m the prettiest?” You whispered.
“Damn right,” Eddie nodded, his voice laced with stern fondness and he grinned when you smiled even wider. “All the other piles of sludge don’t know what to do with themselves when you’re around.”
It made you laugh, a hiccuping thing that had Eddie kissing at your cheek, the corner of your mouth and the tip of your nose. It was overwhelming, to be doted on like this - your cheeks warm and the alcohol making you softer and sleepier, Eddie’s big hands the only thing keeping you upright.
“You’re so funny,” you mumbled through a yawn, falling forward again to bury yourself into him.
“The funniest,” Eddie agreed mildly, because he was already coaxing you into standing up with him, your socked feet standing on his boots as you swayed. “C’mon, bedtime.”
“You forgot bad day Bigfoot,” you mumbled, pointing back at your empty mug. “He needs to come too.” You lifted the throw pillow that Wayne had once tried to cross-stitch a dirty joke onto, holding it close to your side like some kind of teddy.
One look at your frown told Eddie you weren’t joking, so with raised brows, he grabbed the offending cup and held him in front of you. “He needs to come to bed with us? And the dick pillow?”
An array of different sizes and colours of badly stitched penises glared back at him from under your arm and Eddie raised his brows at you, unsure.
You nodded, already shuffling off into the direction of his bedroom where he knew you’d ransack his drawers for just the right shirt to sleep in. “S’only polite,” you told him.
You couldn’t see Eddie’s responding grin but he filled the mug back up with water before trailing after you. “Alright, but if he starts gettin’ handsy, he’s out.” He caught up with you just as you flopped into his unmade bed, burying your face into the sheets with a hum. “You’re my pile of sludge, remember?”
From beneath Wayne’s pillow, your hand shot out, a thumbs up offered as a sign of agreement and Eddie scoffed as he bit at the digit playfully.
“Fuck yeah, m’your pile of sludge,” was his answer.
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