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#tagging gone sideways
cordycepsbian · 11 months
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did you knwow we love tarantulas so much. definitely some of the arachnids of all time
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vulpiximisa · 8 months
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I think I’d always seen it as “revali was created as a rival for link” but reading the actual words in creating a champion, he was created “as a rival to link”. (Someone who won’t easily like Link like everyone else, etc) So it’s more like Revali sees them as rivals, but we don’t know what Link thinks. I mean, I guess it was obvious that way but I guess I’d been hoping for “word of god” that revali is something special 😞
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fairyhaos · 24 days
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❖ no such thing as too perfect // jeon wonwoo
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wonwoo x gn!reader, 2k+ words
tags: office au, established relationship, fluff, kinda crack, junhui is the best work bestieTM ever, yn is Dramatic and In Love
warnings: none
notes: this was only meant to be like, 1.2k.... idk what happened but im not apologising. also there are a couple of pov switches which i hope make sense!!
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“I think I need to break up with him,” you say, and Junhui blinks around a mouthful of salad. 
“Who?” he asks, spraying pieces of feta cheese all over the table, and you wrinkle your nose and brush away a few bits that get too close to you and your bento box. He frowns, and then his eyes widen. “Oh my god, you need to break up with Jeon Wonwoo? Why do you need to break up with Jeon Wonwoo?”
You wince as Junhui's loud exclamation rings throughout the office canteen, making several heads turn to look at the two of you. 
“Don't yell it so loud—and why are you saying his name in italics?”
“Because this is Jeon Wonwoo,” Junhui emphasises again, shoving salad passionately into his mouth before carrying on talking. “He's the only one of your boyfriends that I've actually ever approved of. Which is crazy, because Soonyoung introduced him to you, and I've never pinned Soonyoung as a guy that knows boyfriend-material guys.”
You reach over and lower Junhui’s fork, preventing him from eating and talking at the same time. “I don't know,” you sigh. “I just… I don't think this is going to work.”
“What did he do?” Junhui asks. His face morphs into a more serious look. “Do I need to murder him for you?”
“No, I— no! Don't murder him!” you say quickly, shaking your head. “He hasn't done anything wrong. It's just. I think I need to break up with him.”
The grave look melts from Junhui's face, and then he frowns. “You need to break up with him… even though he hasn't done anything wrong?”
“Yes.”
Junhui stares at you, mystified, then snatches back his fork to keep eating his salad. “Okay, so you've gone insane. Nice to know.”
You sigh at Junhui's response, rubbing your temples. 
Whilst it does sound insane for you to break up with Wonwoo even though he's done nothing wrong, in your eyes, it's actually quite understandable. 
Nothing has gone wrong, per se: you've been dating Wonwoo for about ten months now, and everything has been perfect. He's been perfect. 
Maybe… a little too perfect. 
He's always being so gentle and courteous, silently reading your emotions and knowing exactly how you're feeling at any given moment. He knows what you need before you even know that you need it—giving you little cheek kisses to remind you that you're loved, pushing a chocolate bar into your hand when you're all dizzy and tired, hugging you to sleep when you've had a bad day. 
The bento box that you're opening and having for lunch? That was prepared by him too. 
Jeon Wonwoo is just so goddamn perfect, and it worries you. 
“I don't think I'm good enough for him,” you admit whilst Junhui is busily sipping his water. 
It's fascinating how he manages to eat so frantically whilst eating so slowly at the same time, you think idly, as Junhui chokes on the tiny sip he was taking. He sets down the glass, wiping his mouth and blinking at you. 
“Sorry, what?”
“Come on, Junhui, do I really have to say it again?” you complain, beginning to open your bento box. “You heard me.”
“Yeah, and I couldn't believe my ears,” he says, tilting his head sideways. “You? Not good enough for him? Please. That's crazy.”
You make a questioning noise. “You just said that he's the only boyfriend of mine that you approved of.”
“Exactly.” Junhui stabbed his fork in your direction, before going back to shovelling leaves into his mouth. “You're perfect for him, and he's perfect for you. I predicted it from the moment you met.”
“I don't know about me being perfect for him, but he really is just too perfect for me,” you whine. “Him and his stupidly warm eyes and that smile… oh, Junhui, he makes me feel like the most beautiful person in this entire universe.” You look down at your bento box, pouting. “Wonwoo's just so perfect.”
Junhui makes a face. “Gross, but okay. I still don't see your point, though. Wonwoo's perfect, and you're both good enough for each other. I don't see why you think you need to break up with him.”
Still looking down at the bento box, you let out a sigh. All of the food is neatly packed away into the separate compartments, and he's even arranged the sesame seeds on your rice into a little heart. It's an awfully goofy but also an awfully Wonwoo thing to do, and you can feel your heart squeezing painfully in your chest, the longer you stare at it. 
This is not good. You are far too in love with Wonwoo. 
That's what you tell Junhui, and he stares at you with utter disbelief as if you've finally admitted that you really have lost your mind. 
“And what makes you think that he's not far too in love with you?” Junhui asks. “You know, one of the reasons that I approve of Wonwoo is because he's just so so in love with you. Like, almost disgustingly in love with you.”
“What?” You blink at him, before shaking your head. “Junhui, no, this is serious. Wonwoo's just so perfect and I'm so in love with him and—and it's actually getting dangerous now. I've literally fallen in love with him.”
Junhui stares at you for a long moment, wondering whether you're actually being serious about all of this. 
“That's not a bad thing,” he insists, and then chomps on his salad in frustration. “Y/N, that's not a bad thing at all.”
“Yes it is,” you say, despairingly, looking forlorn as you prop your chin on your hand. “I love him too much. It's gonna—it's gonna get too overwhelming, soon, and then he'll start thinking I'm weird, and he'll distance himself from me, and then we'll break up and I should end this before that happens.”
Junhui shakes his head. “I don't think that's true.”
“Yes it is.”
“No it isn't. He won't break up with you.”
“Not yet.”
Junhui looks away exasperatedly, because you're adamant in wallowing in your despair over having to break up with Wonwoo because “he's too perfect” even while quite happily eating the lunch that Junhui knows Wonwoo probably prepared for you. 
It's insane, he thinks, because it's obvious to him that Wonwoo loves you a lot. But he knows you and your negative thinking, and short of Wonwoo walking in here and professing his love to you all by himself, Junhui can't think of anything that could possibly convince you otherwise. 
As he looks past your shoulder to the glass doors of the office canteen, however, he blinks. 
There's a tall man entering the canteen, his dark hair all fluffy and his glasses-rimmed eyes scanning the area, lips pursed into a look that could almost be described as bored. He has his hands in his coat pockets, wearing the most simple casual fit ever, but he exudes such cold model energy that even Junhui blinks again. 
And then he watches as the man catches sight of you and Junhui, and his entire demeanour just softens. 
Junhui bites back a grin. 
Wow. Maybe he’s, like, actually psychic. 
“Wonwoo's here,” he says abruptly, and your head snaps up so fast that he can hear the audible click that sounds in your neck. 
“Where?” 
Junhui doesn't get to say anything, however, because he sees the moment that your eyes clock the tall man that's striding into the canteen, the light catching the frames of his glasses, and watches as you positively melt, in much the same way that the man had done when he saw you. 
He can almost hear every infatuated thought that runs through your mind. 
“Wonwoo,” you breathe, once Wonwoo steps close enough to the table that you and Junhui are eating at. His hair is all fluffy and windswept, and you resist the urge to smooth it down with your fingers. 
“Hello.” Wonwoo bends down, presses a soft kiss to your forehead. “You weren't answering your phone.”
“Hm? I didn't get any text notifs from you.” You check your phone, trying to turn it on, only for the screen to remain black. “Oh. Is it dead?”
“I suspected as much,” Wonwoo says dryly, but there's a fondness in his voice as he pulls out a power bank from his pocket. “Here.”
Your eyes light up. “Oh, you're a life saver!” You look up at Wonwoo, smiling at the way his eyes look so warm as he gazes down at you. “Thank you.”
Junhui slurps his water loudly. 
“Sorry,” he says, sounding not sorry at all when the two of you look over at him. “Don't mind me.”
He's grinning mischievously, for reasons that you cannot fathom, and when he leans forward to peer up at Wonwoo with curious eyes, the mischief in his grin only increases. 
“So, Wonwoo, why are you here?”
Wonwoo tilts his head, pushing his glasses up at the same time. “You're Junhui.”
“The one and only,” Junhui says brightly. “I'm Y/N's work bestie. I've heard loads about you.”
You hiss in annoyance, kicking Junhui under the table even as Wonwoo laughs amusedly, placing a hand on your shoulder affectionately. 
“Wen Junhui! Why would you say that?”
“Do you talk about me that often?” Wonwoo asks, and his tone is somewhere between genuinely curious and adoring and you kind of just wanna sit there and listen to his voice forever. 
“Oh, all the time,” Junhui says, eyes gleaming, and you snap your gaze back to him, exasperated. “Y/N loves you so much. I hear about the extent of it every day.”
Wonwoo looks down at you, raising an eyebrow. “Really?”
You kind of want to deny it, but then that would mean lying to Wonwoo, so you don't. 
“Maybe?” you say weakly, cheeks burning as you smile sheepishly up at him. “You're just, uh. Really really lovely. And, um, I kind of love you. A lot.”
Wonwoo laughs, a full and endeared laugh, twinkling with the light of a thousand suns. “I'm glad. Because you're really lovely, and I love you a lot too.”
Your eyes widen, and suddenly it's like it's just you and Wonwoo in the canteen now, him with his hand on your shoulder and those eyes, holding your very soul in place as he just smiles so lovingly and oh God you really do love him. 
“Oh,” you say, soft. “Wonwoo…”
Wonwoo just smiles again. “Anyways, I came by to let you know that I'll be finishing work a bit earlier today, so call me when you're done and I'll drive by to pick you up, okay?”
You nod, mute, stunned by the gentlest words of “I love you” that had left Wonwoo's mouth just seconds before. 
“It was nice meeting you,” Junhui chirps, but Wonwoo doesn't seem to hear, because he's looking down at you again, before swooping in and placing the lightest kiss on your nose and you feel like you could combust on the spot right there. 
“I'll see you later?” he says. 
You nod. “I'll see you later.”
Wonwoo smiles, and then the hand slides off your shoulder and he walks away. 
You watch him go, watch him walk through the tables and then get to the glass doors, where he turns around one last time to wave goodbye before disappearing outside, and really, it's insane how much you love him. 
And how much he loves you, it seems. 
“So. He took time out of his own lunch break and came all the way here to give you a charger because he knew that you'd forgotten one and to tell you that he's picking you up later?” Junhui says, making you reluctantly turn back to him. “Y/N. If this doesn’t make you see just how in love with you Wonwoo is, then I’m gonna kick you.”
“Hey, no need for violence,” you say, raising an eyebrow, and Junhui pulls a face. 
“So do you see it or do you not?”
You look over your shoulder again, out at the doors. Wonwoo’s no longer there, but you can still imagine the imprint of his warmth, lingering like the softest lavender scent over the entire area. 
“Maybe I do,” you say, all wistful and dazed, a smile on your face. “Isn’t he just so perfect?”
Junhui grins, and makes use of your distracted state to steal a carrot stick from your lunch, crunching on it loudly.
“Perfect and in love with you,” he points out. “So do you still feel like you need to break up with him?”
“Hm?”
You blink, eyes still all starry from your few minutes of interacting with your boyfriend, his soft smile etched into your mind. It takes a moment for Junhui's words to register, but then they do, and you can't help but laugh. 
“Oh. Oh, no. He and I are perfect.”
Junhui grins. He really is a psychic. 
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fics tags: @jeonginssa @weird-bookworm @minhui896 @bunnyiix @slytherinshua @haowrld @belladaises @moonlitskiiies @mirxzii @zozojella @kawennote09 @thedensworld @a-wandering-stay @abibliolife @doublasting @wonranghaeee @icyminghao @sweet-like-caramel @your-yxnnie @odxrilove @kyeomyun @crackedpumpkin @jeonride @kellesvt @sakufilms @eightlightstar @onlyyjeonghan @aaniag @amxlia-stars @raevyng @isabellah29 @hrts4hanniehae @mcu-incorrect
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satoruhour · 7 months
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YES 2 HEAVEN
a/n: continuation of this. ARRRGHHH also i swear i couldve written this better i kinda hate this lol / tagging @jabamin @shotorus @hyomagiri @crysugu @valberry @lov3rbody ✶
wc: 4.1k (got carried away again ! lord help me)
warnings: dad!gojo, fem!reader, he is enamoured with you, dom!gojo, calls you ‘mama’, also like slight daddy kink, sex while pregnant, lactation kink, pregnancy kink, implied f! masturbation, oral / cunnilingus, fingering, clit stimulation, praise, pet names, spitting, mating press, multiple rounds, overstimulation, unprotected sex, creampie / breeding kink, n*sfw under the cut
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✶ dilf!gojo . . .
. . . who, when you were pregnant, could never get enough of your glow. sure, you’d look tired and worn out half the time but gojo thought you never looked better cradling your belly whilst you took your afternoon nap, or when you’d do some light chores around the house (you won over gojo trying to stop you). not to mention, your breasts were fuller and heavier with milk, soaking through your slip dresses often that he’s had to hide his hard-on more and more.
. . . who, on more than one occasion has had your tits caged within his hand: watching television, in naps, sex, he was unbelievably obsessed with the way the fabric around your nipples would leak and darken in colour. all he wanted was to knead them as he eats up your delicious moans, sucking hickies into your throat and holding your baby bump with his other hand. and then when satoru first peels the dress off of you, he whimpers, admiring the way your tits lactate and leak milk from its tip.
“s—satoru—” you’re sat sideways on his lap like the sweet girl you are and the first contact of his tongue around your nipple makes you let out a long moan. the sensitivity is all too much for you together with the heaviness of your belly and your hormones spiking and your husband simply smiles into your skin. he slurps at the liquid that drips from your tits, groaning into your breasts and the vibrations makes you clench your thighs together. it doesn’t go unnoticed by him when he’s got his hand between them, playing lazily with your clit and he presses a little harshly into your bundle of nerves and it draws such a beautiful cry and a spurt of your milk from your nipples right into his mouth. satoru cleans up well, noises similar to when he’d eat you out, “mmh… such perfect tits, mama, leaking so much milk just f’r me.” ✶
. . . whose hands look more rugged than he was young, fingertips a certain roughness to it from the boxes of the furniture of the nursery he’s carried to the training he still partakes in for young sorcerers. but they look especially pretty when he cuts up strawberries and bananas for your pancakes and later on, a teacup that barely makes its appearance in his hand from just how large he was in comparison to your baby girl’s tea set. your eyes also like to trail his hands as they skillfully weave your girl’s hair in a braid, hypnotised in which he uses his teeth to drag the hair tie to his fingers. satoru has a different opinion — he likes to see it on your belly when he wants to feel the baby kick and on your plush thighs when he’s teasing you, so close yet so far to your uncomfortable cunt.
. . . who uses your badly shaven job against you when his lips graze along your still full breasts and down to your torso. you can feel him drag the stubble against your inner thighs and it’s like he’s relishing in the way you squirm and thrash around on the bed, but the gojo below you is the culmination of multiple years of missions and caring for a baby girl. he looks so damn stunning between your legs as he usually does, except his features are more wrinkly and lenient and gentle, white strands turning just a little silver — it may just be the trick of the light.
but the way he eats you out has never changed — he’s already gone past making you beg for it. a hand on your inner thighs, caressing the skin and letting him do his damage, but it’s usually not long that gojo needs to hear you. “i heard you like this?” he laughs as he uses his teeth to pull at your underwear as he lifts your hips like you weigh nothing and his eyes are fixated on the way you’re leaking so much that there’s a string of arousal that connects your panties to your pussy. “’toru . .” you’re whining, grasping at nothing ’cause your belly was just too big. he finds your hand easily and twines your fingers. “yeah, angel?” with your legs propped up, he can appreciate the glory of your soaking pussy, and he thinks your tummy just looks divine, carrying a whole new life within it and still looking beautiful as ever. you preen when his mouth licks a stripe up your cunt and you can practically feel the stubble along your pussy lips. “mmh— was made to eat your pussy out, mama.” it’s no different from before. gojo eats you out with his skillful tongue, lapping at your folds and clit messily. you’re squeezing his hands at the intense sensations and he squeezes right back, other hand slowly drawing circles around your clenching, needy hole.
“look at ‘er,” gojo moans softly in awe as his finger parts your folds and he eases it in, your cunt automatically clamping down. you were right — they did feel rougher, bigger — it’s like you can feel the pads of his fingers and the lines on his digits. “so damn wettt . .” gradually he adds another and starts pumping them, moaning alongside you as your filthy husband nuzzles the bottom of his face into your sex and the prickle of his facial hair is so prominent — you just have to grind your hips onto his face. “careful of the baby, darling.” he lightly warns, fairly muffled, but he lets his little wife continue whatever she’s doing. “’toru, ’toru— needa c-cum . .” you’re whimpering, looking like a greek goddess as you’re dripping, dripping, all over satoru’s chin. “yeah? give it to daddy, baby, c’mon.” he moans into your clit, slurping up your juices mercilessly as his fingers reach so deep in you. “that’s right, that’s my girl— oooh fuckk . . . so much cum for me—” you’re cumming with a loud cry, plump thighs squeezing his head and he only presses his tongue deeper into your core as flood his tongue with your juices. he smacks his lips together and shoots you a smirk, “what a sweet thing my lil wife is — sweetest pussy too.” ✶
. . . who has to fuck you at least once while you’re pregnant, but he hadn’t imagined he would get so addicted to the look of your body rocking back and forth, so limp and pliant for him, especially with how he could easily do anything to you with how strong he was and yet you’re surrending everything up to him. satoru who has you in all sorts of positions where he can look at your supple breasts bounce as you cradle the baby in anxiety with one arm and the other is lining his back in red. and he hadn’t expected you’d be so horny too.
. . . whose dick you just can’t get enough of, pouncing on him once he’s gotten home from missions all sweaty and out of breath and your heart gets caught in your throat. guiding your hand to your little cunt when you wake in the morning to his toned chest and the look of soon-to-be-father looking so good on him. sending him little voice notes as you go on appointments by yourself (gojo hates himself for having a mission clash), but the contrast of your husband’s tear-filled apology before your needy audios is a stark contrast, fingers rubbing at your clit in the hospital toilet, unsatisfied. high-pitched whines whenever his cock would kiss your cervix juuust right and moaning how you want his cum in you, again
your husband throws his head back when he first sinks into you, but not before he slaps his cock along your folds, already soaking the sheets from the four times he’s made you cum. “f—fuck, so warm in here, baby.” gojo presses your hands to his lips and lays multiple kisses along it, even licking at your fingers and keeping his eyes locked on you while plunging them into your mouth. the gesture is sensual, hips rocking into you while his tongue glides over your fingers; he brings it to your clit after, helping you and satoru hopes he wouldn’t cum too early. especially when your hair is all splayed out with that glow along your cheeks. the position accentuate the curves of your body and your swelling stomach, and fuck, if he could paint, the image of your anatomy would be burned into his brain. “s’full, daddy.” he simply caresses your sore belly, “yeah? is it now?” he’s buried all the way to the hilt and the deepness sends a chill up your spine, “takin’ me like the good girl you are.”
“satoru, satoru, mmhhfuck,” your hands are holding into his forearms so tightly as he rocks into you, legs wrapped around his waist to trap him with your pussy and you truly wish your baby bump would be bigger so you didn’t have to look at your husband’s fucked out face and sweaty locks, grunts leaving his mouth as he continues to fuck into you with firm, solid thrusts. “w-what is it, sweeth— s-shit, this pussy’s too fuckin’ good.” you mewl at the words, staring up at him through hooded lids and a lax jaw. “tell me what— fuucck— you want, baby,” your words are beyond comprehensible, so you only can moan louder and babble over and over again, “cum— wan’ your cum, wan’ your cum, ’toru!” and gojo has a full blown aneurysm at the way you beg even when you were already knocked up. gojo’s breath and hips stutter at the way you hold onto his arm and plead, cumming straight into the warmth of your cunt with a loud groan. “don’t know how much i love your cunt, sweets.” ✶
. . . who, once you give birth to your baby girl, has never stopped thirsting over you, but he’s a little more considerate in letting your body rest. most of the time he’s pleasuring you just as you were with your baby bump, always the quickest to stand up and run to the nursery when he’d hear the baby’s cries or pass off him being between your legs as just wrestling as your darling girl gets another terrible nightmare. satoru has put you first, always, but lately the chivalrous acts that he’s been doing is landing you in a position of a dilemma — between decorum of a mother and the filthiness of a wife whose husband is just too hot.
. . . who stands out to you more with his new found love for tight black shirts and low riding sweatpants, always prancing around the penthouse with it glued to his body and accentuates just the best parts of his body. you weren’t sure if it was the post pregnancy hormones doing its job or whatever, but there are many times where you can see yourself staring a little too much: on movie nights when he manspreads and adjust his hips, one hand tucked behind the sofa and you can see the muscles in his arm moving. all gojo asks is “take a picture. it’ll last longer, baby,” and you just roll your eyes, but not before one more glance to his inviting lap. when it’s the morning and you’re already up tending to the baby, bouncing her around and breastfeeding her before your head snaps to the low, raspy greeting and you’re blessed with satoru and his arm up on the doorframe, watching you. he’s yawning and scratching at his torso while the sweatpants ride low, showing a peek of his v-line and happy trail. he’s giving you the sweetest, yet somehow sexiest smile as he saunters up to you, surrounded by his toned body and strong arms.
. . . who knows what he’s doing when he sees your distracted stares to the point your baby girl has to drag your hand full of food to her mouth; or in times of sleepiness in the dawn where all he wears are boxers and he has the gift of hearing your not so quiet gasp when you see him emerge from the bathroom after his morning skincare. what really seals the deal though, is the day you had a reunion with the students of jujutsu high, a nice little picnic out near tokiwa bridge and gojo just had to show his girls off — what was meant to be a wholesome day turned into thoughts of your husband’s physique as he challenges nanami to a “carry-off”, the still stoic sorcerer not even bothering to participate as gojo swoops you both into his arms. your daughter on his right and you on his left, and you’re scrambling to grab his shoulder. it sinks into you like an anchor: just how fit he was, the lines of his tense arm, the cheeky wink he sends to you while you’re up there. you only hope he can’t feel your pussy throb from that.
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“you alright, darling?” your baby’s asleep comfortably on your chest, and your eyes can only burn holes into the hand that’s resting on your thigh, swallowing before facing your husband who only seemed to get hotter the more he ages. when you turn to him he’s already looking at you, a lopsided smile on his face before he breaks eye contact and steps on the gas when the traffic light turns green, letting out a loaded exhale when you grab his hand and twine your fingers.
that two person carry has been etched onto your mind long after you’ve reached the penthouse along with everything that’s been going on, but you’re interrupted when satoru squeezes your hand, pulling you into his embrace while keeping your darling girl asleep. he’s skilled at that, as he is with his lips, pressing a deep kiss to your mouth. you can feel your stomach turn with anticipation, tasting his gloss as he whispers “should we order takeout tonight?”
you hum, “i can cook, ’toru.”
his hands feel hot on your waist, “rest today, baby. we did spend a whole day in the hot sun,” they draw circles on your lower back, “plus, we have that event tomorrow, don’t wanna tire you out.”
“the event’s at night you goof,” you laugh, a slow hand stroking your daughter’s hair. stark white and striking as always.
“still.” he grins and winks like there’s some ulterior motive, leaning in to kiss you again before your girl rouses and yawns.
“good morning, my love.” satoru coos as she finds her bearings, looking around in confusion and only being able to focus on her father’s hand on her hair.
“na-na-min?” the awkward plea in her voice would drive gojo to burn the world down, to call nanami right now to meet up again, but he knows all that would only warrant annoyance. he could call yuji, but he did mention something about having dinner with his partner tonight.
gojo feels bad to be breaking her heart like this, “no, darling, ’m sorry.” his heart breaks even more when she breaks into a slight cry and he attempts to quell her sobs by baby-talking her.
“c’mon, why don’t you let papa carry you, and mama can head off to take care of herself, hm?” he suggests with a big grin, mood changing instantly as he plucks her out of your arms, again emphasising his strong arms when they hold her on one side and curl another around you. “go clean up first. i’ll settle dinner for her.”
but the shower seemed to be a bad idea at the time, emerging from the steamy bathroom to see your husband with his shirt off and the baby already all cleaned up and fed. she was swaddled in her most comfortable blanket, the fabric of it peeping out from the side as your eyes focus on the rippling muscles of gojo’s back. he bounces the baby gently as he burps her, muttering little praises and sounds.
“oh, baby—” he catches sight of you in the doorway in a towel and he only smiles, not knowing how you were trying to digest just how broad his shoulders were and how small his waist was. had he always been so fine?
“heard about skin to skin contact with your baby,” he whispers, “says it increases our bond.”
and if you could, you’d drag him back to the chapel all over again to renew your vows, because you didn’t expect him to be such a sap. you also didn’t expect him to read you so well. the baby’s asleep and it’s well past midnight, masking yet another shaky sigh when your body sinks more into his side.
“satoru—”
“yeeess . .?” 
you stand up with vigour you didn’t think you have, plopping yourself down onto his lap and all he does is smile slyly. the way his bare body moves as he leans back is enough drive for you to shut him up.
“haven’t been able to stop thinking about you.”
“oh? you have a crush on me?”
so infuriating as always. you roll your eyes and grind down on him, igniting such a familiar and archaic feeling that you haven’t felt in a long time: his bulge against you, the soft groan he lets out. he’s always been treating you time and time, and yet he puts his own needs on hold. a perfect husband like him waited only for you to initiate things, and yet you wonder why it took you so long. maybe it was the baby taking up most of your time, maybe it was him being on missions and coming home dead-beat tired.
maybe you knew you’d never turn back if you indulged yourself — pushing out a whole baby wasn’t exactly easy. but you’ve missed him. on you, in you.
“we’re married, you dumbass.”
“still in disbelief, my bad.” gojo laughs, “is there anything you wanna tell me?”
you sigh, pulling him to you so your foreheads would touch. you breathe onto his lips — “please take care of me.”
oh, gojo satoru did take care of you and more, burying his face between your legs and making you cum over and over. he made your voice hoarse and your thighs ache, juices soaking the sheets from just how wet you were.
“oh, you needed this, huh?”
“shut up.” gojo moans when you push him back onto your cunt, already having orgasmed thrice just from his tongue. he was skillful and he knew it, just as much as he knew just how tight you’d be when he smeared your cum all over your pussy and pushed past your folds. satoru whines at the tightness, at having missed your cunt wrapped around him for so long that he can tears prickling at the corners of his eyes.
“f—fuck . . so fuckin’ good, s’tight . .” you’re not that well off, either, thinking the shower was a waste of water as your sweaty stomach heaved in anticipation while he bottomed out. gojo cries out in a choked moan, “you feel so g—good, mama.”
“w-who’s needing it now?” you breathe out, fingers digging into his shoulders so harshly it hurt. you catch a glimpse of satoru’s smile and a shake of his head — you’d need to be carried tomorrow, for sure.
he pulls out and slams back in so accurately you let out a loud moan, insides turning to mush after so long. the feel of him filling you up is like none other, pussy gripping onto him like a vice. you can’t remember the last time you let him take you.
“so p-perfect for me—” gojo rasps out, looking at you drunkenly. the mother of his child, his wife, it weighs on him and he just thinks he needs to fuck you until you know how much joy you bring to his life. your body rocks as your lover fucks into you, hovering over your body and looking so ethereal. his hair falls into his eyes that you just have to pull him down, crashing your lips against his. the moans he lets out against your face is lovely and you can feel his cock twitch as your legs wrap around his waist.
“‘toru— shiiitt . .” your back arches off of the bed, body caving into satoru like second nature. he lets out babbles against your lips, room filled with the sounds of his balls slamming into your ass, coupled with your weeping pussy, coating his length with all that you can give to him. “so deep—”
“that’s ’cause you’re suckin’ me in, baby—” he laughs breathlessly, cutting off your answer with another kiss, feeling the brush of pelvic bone against your clit. it’s all you need to cum hard, still sensitive after so long and your pussy clenches around gojo’s shaft even tighter; it gets gojo whining into the kiss before he reaches his high too, spilling into you with wide eyes and stuttering hips. you moan at the sensation, eyes pleading your husband for more, more, more. 
“forgot how much i loved doing that, f-fuck—” gojo hums as he removes your legs from his waist, pushing you into a deep mating press and you squeal when you feel his cock barely hit your g-spot in this new position, “yeah? ya feel that?”
you nod mindlessly, hands now holding onto his forearms before his hips start moving again and you’re left to whining like a slut. your thighs dig into your chest as gojo folds your body in half, rutting into you messily. there’s so much cum, mixed in filthily as your words only descend into incoherence.
“yes, yes, yes!” are all you can manage as gojo grunts from above you: his stubble, his broad shoulders, his matured face, they all look beautiful in the cold night. he’s so focused on the way your cunt sucks him in, hips stammering when your hand comes into view to rub your clit. “give it all t’me, daddy.”
there’s a small growl that leaves his lips at that, pace reaching an animalistic one as he angles his hips. “open y’mouth.” 
satoru is driven crazy when you obey silently, and he has to push deeper into you to reach your mouth, making you falter and pull your brows together — you recover fast enough to catch the spit hanging from his mouth, dribbling slowly into your mouth even when gojo’s hips never stop their assault.
“attagirl,” he praises, smiling softly at the way your pussy twitched at that. he knows you’re close by the look in your eyes, grasping aimlessly at his shoulders. 
“gonna let me cum in you again? hm?” gojo’s thrusts are sloppy now, fuelled by the squelch of your drooling cunt, “gonna let daddy put another baby in you?”
you mewl at that, “wan’ that— want all of it—” intoxicated on his cock, they hit the deepest parts of you; you know and love the way his tip hits your sweet spot, you know and love the way the shaved pubes of his pelvis brush up against your clit so well.
“take it then—” gojo grunts, holding your legs up and meets your eyes and the simple call of his name has him shivering. he cums deep, shooting his load so white and hot in you that you’re moaning loudly at the feeling, hand on your clit increasing in pace before your fifth for the night, legs trembling in his grip and your mouth falls open in a silent scream. 
gojo thinks you’re god. “that’s it— shit, take all of my cum, mama.” you can barely see blue, rather seeing spots of white that fill your vision and you get dizzy and overstimulated, groaning finally when he removes his cock from you. so much cum spills out, pussy pushing it out and satoru bites his lips at the sight.
but you both know you’re far from done when gojo lies on his back, ulterior motive fulfilled when he sees you climb on top of him and drag your pussy along the base of his dick. with you like this, stretch marks and plumpier breasts, you still look as beautiful as you did before the baby, letting you interlock your fingers with his. 
your mouth falls open in a soft “satoru” as you sink down onto his still hard, leaking cock and he never wants to look at anyone else ever again, lest he misses even one second of witnessing a goddess like you at work.
gojo cannot resist sitting up to meet you halfway in a soft kiss (“thank you, ’toru. you always take care of me so well.”) and it gives him all the confirmation he needs when your hips first move and the moans and the lewd sounds of your cunt sound more heavenly than all the choirs in the world.
“it’s what you deserve, baby. only the best.”
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tojikai · 8 months
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Sundered 5: QUARRELS
Pairing: Gojo x reader
Part 1  |  Part 2   | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 …+
Genre: Angst
tags/cw: angst, babydaddy!gojo, babymomma!reader, motherhood, insecurities, explicit smut, arguments, implied noncon
word count: 6.8k
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This is close enough for a beggar like him.
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“When Yui turns three…” Satoru turns to look at you with a small smile and a look in his eyes that you know too well not to understand at a glance. “When Yui turns three?” You urged him to continue, “...we make another one. Hopefully, a baby boy.” He pulled you on top of him as you laughed fondly.
“I can’t even count on my fingers how many times you said that already.” You giggled, kissing his blushing face. “I can’t have you forgetting. It’s a must. We make cute babies.” He spoke each sentence in between pecks. “ Yeah, but she’s only 5 months old, Satoru.” You put your head on his chest, feeling him caress your hair.
“I know, but I wanna tell you in advance.” Moments like this make you forget about all the problems and fights that you have with him. “But we’re gonna get married first, of course.” You looked up at him, watching his eyes glimmer. “You’re asking me to marry you?” You poked his side.
“Of course, what else am I gonna do with you?” He flips you over, kissing your neck and chest before attempting to pull the straps of your nighties down your shoulders. “This is for your daughter, don’t even try.” You pointed a finger at his nose as he pouted, “She’s asleep. Can’t I get a sip?” He wiggled his eyebrows at you making you giggle.
“What is going on with you?” He kissed your lips, joining you in your joy. Just two days ago, you and Satoru were screaming at each other’s faces because of how he got angry at you for talking back to his mother. She came into his house, trying to fight you because you got Yui’s ears pierced. You and Satoru agreed on it, but he didn’t like that you ‘talked back’ to his mom.
And now, it’s all gone. Washed away by his touches. Drowned away by his kisses and moans. “Remember when we did this while you were pregnant?” You could hear his smirk as he nibbled on your skin. You're now lying sideways with your hand holding one of your legs up. His strong arms were wrapped around your waist, caressing your lower stomach.
“Gonna put another one here in a few years.” He grunted when you reached for his hair, pressing him closer to you. “Satoru…” His breath on the shell of your ear only made you heat up more. You sobbed as his thrust got faster and harder. “Yeah, you want that.” He bit your ear lightly as you arched your back, whimpering.
You were just about to tell him that you’re close but Satoru got your body memorized. His hand was already trailing down to your womanhood, fingers rubbing on your nub as he coaxed you to your climax and followed shortly after. He finished inside you with your name flowing smoothly out of his lips. You stayed in the same position; with him still inside you as he pushed your legs together.
It was only one of those nights that made you believe that you’d be together until the end.
“...a new one?” Satoru’s voice snapped you back to reality. “Hm?” You turned to him, seeing that he was already staring at you. Yesterday, you and Toji fought. And today, you did again. Is the honeymoon phase they were saying already over? You gritted your teeth. “Are you still thinking about it?” Satoru’s voice was laced with concern as he drove.
Yesterday afternoon, you and Toji were talking about how much louder it gets when there are more kids around. Other than Yuuji, a little girl from their neighborhood named Nobara also joined—a name Yui cannot pronounce correctly but kept saying anyway. 
With four children running around the house, you and Toji could only communicate with eyes, teasing like a married couple planning for an addition. You two could only joke around the topic, though, knowing how serious and how big a responsibility it will be. 
Besides, your relationship is still young and you would like to get married first before taking a step like that. But marriage still feels pretty far for you and Toji.  
“Look, I’m sure he doesn’t mean it like that.” Satoru tried to comfort you. “His wife used to do that stuff and now he’s just sharing it with you.” He explained. You can’t help but feel like you were being petty. The kids had a playdate and you thought that making a bit of juice for their picnic would give them a better experience.
Toji started randomly talking about how his wife had little cousins and she refused to give them juice until they were 5 because it’s terrible for toddlers’ health. And though, you understand this, the way he said it just put you off. You felt like he was comparing you to her and you just didn’t like the way it made you feel. 
Before, there were times when he would mindlessly say that his wife introduced something to him or taught him to do something and you would think that he was probably just reminiscing. But now you just felt…sensitive. It just felt like you still had to compete even if there was no one to compete with.
“He’s probably just suggesting.” Satoru tried to explain for Toji, something you didn’t think would ever happen because they’re almost always wordless around one another. “Suggesting what? That I should do what his first wife did? And today he got upset that Yui and I would leave early to go with you.” Satoru sighed, nodding slowly.
Ever since that night, he’s been a lot more calm, more patient, and more careful with everything he does. “We should’ve canceled and moved it another day.” You looked at him, disbelief flashing on your face.
“Y/N, he’s your boyfriend now. It’s not good to leave a fight without talking first, even just for reassurance.” Whatever he’s been learning at counseling is definitely working, you thought. When he first told you about it, you didn't know how to react. Probably because you know that the cause of your problems is not just him. But also his mother.
“I told him we’ll talk later. He just doesn’t like that we have to spend time around each other like this.” Your voice was quieter. To be honest, you don’t know how to deal with that because it concerns your daughter too. “We can…we can just reduce times like this to milestones like birthdays and school events when she’s finally in school,” Satoru spoke, clearing his throat.
“I don’t think it’s that important anyway, Yui will understand that we’re separated soon. She’s growing fast.” You glanced at your daughter as she waves at the passing cars. Satoru’s right. “Yeah, I’ll just…I’ll talk to him about it.” Satoru probably doesn’t want it like that, but nowadays, he’s been…different. In a good way.
“By the way, I have a…my previous car. Do you remember? The one before this.” He asked, “Your car always breaks down. I mean…You can have it. So, you won’t have to take a cab when you take Yui to daycare, go to work, or pick her up from my place.” You can tell that he was nervous to ask you about it.
“Actually, if you want. I can ask Toji, so he won’t think of it as anything.” You looked away, thinking. You’re not the only one who has a significant other here; Naomi might think of it as something too. “You have to tell Naomi too.” You glanced at him through the rearview mirror. “Yeah…” He cleared his throat. 
Silence enveloped the three of you for several minutes until Satoru spoke again. “My counselor said it’s easy to mistake comfort for love.” Taking a deep breath, you chose your words carefully. “You can learn to love people and things.” There was a long pause along as you reached his house.  You checked on Yui to find out that she fell asleep.
“That sounds like resignation, Y/N. Love doesn’t need conditions.”  He mumbled, looking at his lap. “Let’s go, she’s getting uncomfortable.” You took Yui’s things before following him inside his house. “Don’t forget her vitamins, Satoru.” Humming, he opened the door for you with your sleeping daughter in his arms. 
To his surprise, the lights were on and there, his mother and Naomi sat on his couch.
“You took so long. Did you forget about your girlfriend?” His mother was the first to speak. “Why are you here, Mom? You’re early, Naomi.” Naomi glanced at you with a look on her face that you can’t quite read. There’s nothing sinister about it, in fact, she looked nervous.
“She’s early because she won’t be working full days anymore.” You stood there awkwardly, feeling invisible before Satoru took a step closer to you, “Since she’ll be a part of the family soon, I asked your father if he can take it easy on her workload. Lovers should spend time with each other as much as they can.” His mother continues, emphasizing the word ‘family’ as she gave a mocking glance your way.
She never once considered you as one. Not that you want to be related in any way to someone like her. You scoffed inside your head, seeing Satoru glance at you. “We do spend enough time together.” He spoke, “And why are you deciding for her, Mom?” He took the bags in your hand, “Let’s go to Yui's room.” 
“It’s okay, I won’t be staying for long anyway, I just wanted to drop her off.” After taking Yui to an inflatable indoor park, Satoru bought her a Hello Kitty cake just as you were about to go home. The kid was excited to open the cake with you, but you were reluctant because you don’t really want to be around Naomi. After being assured by Satoru that Naomi wasn’t supposed to come over until Friday, you finally agreed.
You should’ve trusted your gut, because here she is with Satoru’s mom, like a cherry on top.
“I’ll take you home, let’s just put her to bed, then we’ll go.” The child stirred in her sleep, adjusting her head on his shoulder, “Mama, cake.” She murmured, probably dreaming about her food. You looked at Satoru, catching him already staring at you and something tells you it’s gonna be alright even with these two people who seemingly want you out of your own daughter’s life.
“We’ll talk later,” Satoru spoke to them, gently nudging you toward your daughter’s room. “There’s literally nothing to talk about, son. We just wanted to make the two of you more free for each other. Can’t have others hogging all of your attention from your lover. She won’t appreciate that. Isn’t that right, Y/N?” You paused, glancing at Satoru.
“With your new boyfriend, doesn’t it irritate you when he uses his time for other things?” You can tell that his mother is trying to elicit a reaction from you. “The only thing my boyfriend does other than work is take care of his son.  And I will never put myself in between them.” Before his mother could even say anything, Satoru quickly took the stage.
“I said later, Mom. Naomi and I will talk. It’s our relationship.” With that, he walked with you into Yui’s room, closing the door behind him, careful not to wake his daughter up. “I’m really sorry. I didn’t think they’d be here.” You took Yui’s shoes and jacket off, before letting Satoru put her down. “I know, it’s okay.” Kissing Yui’s forehead, you could hear him whisper curse words.
“Hey.” You can tell he’s more than upset. This is probably more painful and exhausting to him than you thought. “I don’t know anymore, Y/N.” He turned away from you, running his hand over his face, “This. This is what’s making my life harder.” He gestured towards the door, referring to his mother. “This is what made our life harder.” You caught him saying as he shook his head.
“Just talk to them. Maybe there's a reason for this. She’s just naturally hostile with me.” You shrugged, knowing that he was speaking the truth. “That’s the point. She’s pointlessly hostile and she thinks she can decide for me.” Turning to you, there was redness in his eyes. 
Satoru didn’t want to seem like he was asking you for comfort. He refused to give you that before, he’d be shameless if he wanted you to hold him. “Let’s go. I’ll explain to Yui, we’ll call you later.” Blinking hard before opening the door, Satoru knows better than to allow his mother near you. You never told him but he knows that she slapped you when she came to your house.
They fought about it when he went to their mansion. Thankfully, his father backed him up with a speech about protective orders which shut her down. It pained him to be like that to his mom but he can’t just have her abusing you just because she can. 
Satoru walked beside you, covering you from his mother. “Satoru…” Naomi called out but his mother quickly spoke, “Doesn’t she have a car? Did it break down again? Ah, like before, when she wanted someone to take her home.” There was no hint of amusement in Naomi’s eyes, probably clueless as to what she was talking about. 
“I’m calling Dad to pick you up.” With that, he continued walking, leaving his mother with an angry look on her face. “That’d be good. He will be here to discuss things since he’s her boss. He might even give her a vacation. You and Naomi can go out of the country. Get close, plan things like marriage, children—” Stopping in his tracks, Satoru turned with his jaws clenched. 
“You know what? Maybe I shouldn’t leave my daughter here. After all, you threatened to take her away.” Walking back to Yui’s room, Satoru didn’t think twice as he grabbed your hand, making Naomi tense up. “Can she stay with you tonight? I’ll get her tomorrow.” He murmured, breathing hard as he picked his daughter up again.
“You think I’ll kidnap my own granddaughter, look what she’s making you think.” You can hear his mom as you rush to take Yui’s things. Whining, Yui covered her ears as Satoru walked her out of the room with you beside him. “I don’t need to kidnap Yui to get her away, her own mother isn’t even capable, what makes you think—” Satoru cut her off when he stood in front of her.
“I’m filing a restraining order.” He spoke, voice low as he tried to stay respectful despite what he was saying, “Against you.” His mother’s eyes widened in surprise, “Come on.” Ushering you out, and leaving his mother stunned. Opening the door for you, he then proceeded to fix his daughter in her car seat.
“Mama why?” You shushed her, caressing her hair, “We’ll eat cake at home.” You smiled at her, trying your best not to sound panicked before closing the door to finally get in the car. Satoru was about to get in the driver’s seat but Naomi came out of the house and ran to him. Glancing at you, she held his hand, “We’ll talk about it later.” He told her, checking if his mother followed. 
“Can’t you just…” Naomi was about to say something but held back, grabbed his collar, pulling him down to kiss his lips. You almost immediately looked away, seeing from your peripheral vision how she put Satoru’s arms around her waist. “Come home quick.” She whispered not so quietly at him. Getting in the car, you wondered if his mom told her about it.
“Naomi…” Satoru sighed, pulling away before looking at you with a concerned look in his eyes as he nodded away at her words. Leaving her, Satoru entered the car and started it. She stood there with a mixed look on her face that screams how irritated and upset she is with the events. 
“You don’t have to file a restraining order against her. She’s still your mother.” You didn’t have to say that but you felt like you’re the reason why there’s a gap between them now. “She’s not good for Yui. I can’t have her around speaking about you like that in front of her.” He was breathing hard. “Can you calm down? You’re driving.” 
“Sorry.” He muttered, before taking a deep breath. “I hope she won’t be there when I come back. I can deal with it on my own, whatever Naomi and I have to talk about.” He ranted, “I wish she didn’t intervene so much in everything I do. I feel like the decisions I made aren’t even mine.” He rarely talked like this back then. Actually, you rarely interacted like this back then.
“How’s…” Hesitating, he swallowed before continuing his question, “How’s Toji’s family to you?” He asked softly as if the information he’ll get can break him even more. It probably would. “He’s not that close to them, so they don’t really know much about us. I’ve met them twice when we picked up Megumi. They treat us kindly.” You glanced at him, seeing him purse his lips.
“That’s good for you. You won’t have to deal with something like this.” Satoru wanted to say that he’ll cut ties with his mother to protect you; to be with you. But knowing you, you’ll probably feel like it’s your fault and he doesn’t want that.
He’s aware that his mother influenced the decisions he made in the past. Talking to someone about it made him realize how wrong he approached things with you and how easily he let himself be swayed by the instant gratification that he felt when he gave up on your relationship. 
None of it was worth it. 
—--------------------------------------------------
Three Days Ago
“I can’t do that,” Naomi spoke as she tried to lean away from Satoru’s mom. They met at a cafe near her neighborhood. She was supposed to ask for advice, but it quickly turned into plotting how to lock Satoru to her. “Listen, Y/N was able to keep Satoru with her because they have a child together.” She tapped a sharp nail on the table.
Naomi would be lying if she said that she didn’t think about using that to get more of his time. She admit that she thought of a way to make him have a kid with her, even trying to lie about her safe day to make him do it inside her. She didn’t think that hearing it come from someone else can sound so sick and twisted.
If Satoru doesn’t want the kid, what’s going to happen to me; to us?
“Why are you worried? I’ve been in the same situation and I’m telling you, Satoru kept his father for me.” Naomi’s eyebrows bumped together as she thought of how easy it was for her to say something like that. “You did that to his father?” She asked in disbelief, wanting nothing but to go but desperate enough to stay.
“Not intentionally. But had I not told him, his ex-wife wouldn’t have left us alone and he wouldn’t have stopped running after her.” She took a sip of her coffee, making her seem so chill with her story. Naomi knows all of it for Satoru once told her. She just thought that his mother really baby-trapped his dad to make him stay.
Can Naomi really do that?
“You won’t baby trap my son, you just let him come to you. Attract him like you did back then.” She nodded at Naomi. “I just wanted to help him, then. I didn’t try to seduce him.” She defended herself, “But you did drink with him a few times? Tell me you didn’t get seductive with him during those nights.” She dared, and Naomi looked down.
She remembers telling him how she liked his eyes and how he was too hot to bury himself in problems. She also remembers nonchalantly telling him how he caught her eye when she first saw him. She knows that she liked to think of him and Yui as her own little family even before they started dating and she remembers promising him that they can make it work.
Was Naomi really being just a friend to him then? Or was she already falling for him when she tried to become what he needs during those times?
“Y/N was confident that she’ll get Satoru back and that’s why she let her guard down. Now, if you want to be her so much then, be happy-go-lucky and watch him dump you.” She shook her head, and the words easily got Naomi thinking twice. She’s not trying to be like you. She’s better than you. 
She’s better for him than you.
“Why do you hate her so much?” Naomi suddenly asked, thinking out loud as she carefully thought about her decision. I mean, she didn’t really do anything to me.” If she’s going to think about it, other than the misunderstandings— which were probably caused by something offensive she did or said—you’re never antagonistic towards her.
“She ruined my son’s life. I shouldn’t have expected anything knowing how she got him, but she even had the nerve to try and make him do all the work. She’s probably just after the money..” No matter how hard she tried to recall, Naomi can’t remember him sighing over having Yui with you. “And you think she didn’t really do anything to you? You’re a bit naive.” Naomi’s forehead puckered at her statement.
“Didn’t you notice how she got a new man only now when it started looking like Satoru’s sure about you?” His mother might just be overthinking things but it didn’t help that the changes in her and Satoru’s relationship were almost perfectly timed with you getting a boyfriend. But what if it’s just Satoru? It could’ve been a coincidence, right?
Realizing how she was trying to convince herself in her mind, Naomi only felt worse. Maybe she really has to do something. After all, she swore to him that they can make it work. She’s not someone to just back down and give up on the one she loves when things get tough.
She’s better than you, and unlike you, she won’t run away; she’ll fight for their relationship. 
—------------------------------------------
Arriving home, Yui was already wide awake. “...then, Dad will be back to buy a new cake with Yui! How’s that?” Satoru kissed her cheek as he put her down on the couch. The little girl got upset that her dad has to go so soon. She just stood there wordlessly, leaning on the couch as she refused to look at Satoru.
“It’s okay, I’ll talk to her. She’s just grumpy because her nap was disturbed.” Walking towards the little girl, you sat down and put her on your lap. “Say bye, now.” You pushed the stray hairs away from her face and Satoru can’t help but admire how much he missed just seeing the two of you waiting for him on his couch.
Yui was younger then; much smaller in your arms. And he felt like a real husband coming home to his wife and child when you’d be there, watching TV when he got home from work. It’s been more than a year now, he just thinks he’s lucky enough to still be close to you again. 
You’re not as close as he wants you to be but this is more than enough for a beggar like him.
Leaning down to give your daughter a kiss, she turned away from him. “Yui, that’s not nice.” Her mouth was quivering but you know her too well. “You better go, they’re waiting for you there.” You looked at him but he only stared at you, sighing deeply. You felt like it was the hundredth time today. 
He looked so worn out; like he was just ready to drop as soon as he gets these things out of his tail. You wondered if you looked like this to him back then, too. Probably not this bad because you don’t have a meddlesome mother who keeps trying to put her finger in the pie. 
Before Satoru could answer, a knock on the door was heard. The door opened and a little boy holding his sippy cup stood by the doorway. Toji held the doorknob, staring at you and Satoru. What time is it? You thought. You remembered telling him that you’d be back by 4 in the afternoon. Yui was quick to jump from your lap.
“Dada! ‘Gumi! Dada! ‘Gumi!” She squealed at them and you could feel Satoru tense up beside you. She had been told by Toji about it, but hearing it from her friend isn’t helping at all. Megumi looked up at Satoru before looking at Yui. “Hey, hey, hey. What’s my name?” Toji bent down to pick her up when she kept stomping her feet and reaching up at him.
“Dada!” She laughed, before pointing at Megumi who was now taking his little bag from his father’s hand. “You’ll play later. Listen, tell your Dada what my name is.” Toji repeated just as Satoru regained his composure. “It’s alright,” He chuckled, “She probably thought you’re her Dada because you take care of her. And her mom.” You wanted to stop him, feeling bad that he had to pretend that he's cool about this.
Yui’s first word was ‘Dada’ and you could still remember how happy he was when he got her to say it before ‘Mama’. You can’t stand the thought of that memory becoming painful for him. “I gotta go, I’ll just pick her up again tomorrow.” He whispered to you, before nodding to Toji. “Bye, love. See you, tomorrow.” He waved at Yui, faking a smile before rushing to leave.
Yui waved back at him before wiggling out of Toji’s arms. She rushed to get her toys when he put her down. “She’s…she’s a kid” Biting your lip, you breathed out through your nose before walking to Toji and putting your arms around him. “Don’t run.” He called out to the children as giggled their way to Yui’s room. “I feel bad. I’m gonna talk to him later.” You mumbled.
Toji kissed your forehead before you pulled him to your room. “What’s going on?” He asked you, sitting on the bed. “Are you worried?” You asked, straddling him. “I am.” He answered, ignoring your actions. You looked up at him with a frown, remembering the misunderstanding that you had. “Why was he here?” 
“Look, he just had to drop me and Yui off because his mother was in his house—” He cut you off, leaning away a bit from you. You know that you didn’t tell him that you were going to Satoru’s house with Yui because you were still upset about your argument the other day and earlier this morning. 
“You told me the time but you can’t tell me where you were going?” Perplexity was clear on his face, “I didn’t want to agitate you further. I wouldn’t tell you right now if there’s another reason why I’m there except for Yui.” You tried to explain, feeling him put you beside him on the bed. “Y/N, that’s not the point.” He sighed, closing his eyes.
“Then, what is? I wasn’t planning to stay for long.” You kicked off your shoes, before turning to him. “Look, I’m sorry, ok? I just thought you were mad because of earlier.” You hugged his arm, putting your forehead on his shoulder. “And I was still upset.” Kicking his own shoes off, Toji pulled you on top of him as he leaned back on the headboard
“You have to tell me why you’re upset. It can’t be just the orange juice.” He spoke, grabbing your face as he kissed you. You moaned, breathing into him as you opened your mouth, letting his tongue find yours. His grunts sent vibrations to your core as you press yourself against him. 
“Did you lock the door?” He murmured, taking off your cardigan before putting his hands on your buttocks. “Yeah, don’t worry.” You quickly took off your shirt before going back to kissing him, completely forgetting about what he was asking from you. 
“As long as we can hear the laughs, they’re fine.” He chuckled, unclasping your bra before taking a nipple in his mouth. “Oh…” You moaned rubbing on his shoulders and tugging at the fabric of his sweater. His other fingers tweaked at your bud as he stared up at you, lustful eyes taking away your worries.
You really just don’t want to tell him that the mention of his wife is starting to trigger you.
Taking off the clothing, he flipped you on your back, removing your belt and jeans. His lips trailed kisses on your thighs as he go, massaging your calves before parting your legs, making you inhale sharply. “We can’t drag this long. Come here.” You giggled, ushering him to hover over you. “You know how they are…” You moaned when he started to kiss your neck.
His tongue and teeth bring pleasure and a bit of sting on your skin. “You just want it that much.” Winking at you, he discarded his remaining clothes before hovering over your womanhood. He smirked as he slid your underwear down, kissing your pearl. “Toji…” You whined, worried that this might get cut short if he doesn’t hurry.
“Alright, alright. I can’t just stick in. Let’s see…” Spreading your lips with two fingers, he eyed your heat with furrowed brows and his mouth slightly ajar, you can’t help but rock your hips against his hand, desperate for friction. Your eyes shut close when he put a finger in, slowly at first, before speeding up when he added a second one.
Toji panted, stroking his member when he felt you squeeze his digits. You’re dripping and he’s starting to ache. “Fuck.” He muttered as he leaned over to go for your lips, kissing you hard. He growled in your mouth when you whimpered as he rubbed on your pearl while massaging the sensitive spot inside you.
Pulling away when your legs started to tremble, Toji hissed as he tapped his head on the bundle of nerves before rubbing his length on your wet folds to lube himself up. “Toji, please.” You cupped your mounds, looking up at him. Seeing you like this drove him crazy, he had to hold back from just slamming himself into you. 
Grabbing a pillow and putting it under your hips, Toji prodded your entrance with his tip. He opened your legs wider, taking in the sight of you being stretched and his shaft disappearing slowly until he was fully in. Leaning on the bed with one hand, he grabbed your jaw with the other and silenced your moans with his kisses.
“You can’t let them hear you.” He murmured as he clenches his jaw, pressing his nose on your cheeks and kissing it. He was moving steadily inside of you and whispering words of praises to your ear, “You take me so well now.” He teased you, groaning whenever your hole fluttered around him.
You gasped when Toji pushes your legs to your chest, pounding deeper into you as he sings your name like you do to his. His thrusts were unrelenting, merciless as he slams himself into you. Soon enough, your walls were starting to convulse and your nails were clawing on his arm. 
“Come on. Let it go, hon.” You closed your eyes, feeling your chest throb at the nickname he used but the surges of pleasure that took over your senses flooded it out. Your hand covered your mouth, eyes rolling back as you writhed underneath him, coming undone with a cry of delight escaping your lips.
Your thighs trembled under his touch as he continued to rut into you, desperate for his high. “Oh fuck…Oh, Y/N.” Feeling your walls spasm and contract around him, he hurriedly pulled out and spilled his load on your womanhood. A sight to see, he thought as he watched your thighs still shaking from the pleasure.
“Wait a minute," Reaching over to your cabinet, Toji took the box of tissues before wiping you and himself clean. Hearing the jolly screams from the other room made you both laugh to yourself. "That's too quick. We gotta continue this later." He winked, throwing the tissues away before getting on the bed with you.
"Definitely." You let out a tired laugh as you put your head on his shoulder, sighing as the heavy feeling settled on top of your chest. Why did you have to remember him just from that word alone? Toji tilted your head up for a passionate kiss, blurring away the image of your ex inside your head.
“I have a request, though.” You looked down, avoiding his curious gaze. “Can you….can we not use ‘hon’?” You don’t know how weirdly you phrased the question until you looked at Toji to see him looking puzzled. “I mean…this is the first time you called me that and I’m, uh, not really comfortable with that. “
“Yeah, alright. But why?” Maybe you should’ve thought this through. You know Toji’s been getting moody whenever you two talk about anything concerning Satoru. You can’t really blame him after what happened that night. “I just… don’t feel it.” You lied, shrugging. “It’s not that bad, though. I could get used to it.” You smiled up at him, pecking his lips.
“Alright, I think I know.” He exhaled harshly, standing up from the bed to grab your clothes. Great. You just ruined the moment. “Are you mad?” You sat up, watching him get dressed. “No, I just wanna check on the kids.” He is mad. You clicked your tongue, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Babe, I just don’t want to–“ 
“Y/N. I said alright. I can’t do anything about it, anyway.” That doesn’t fix anything. “A lot of people use that, I just don’t get why you keep getting affected.” You stared at him, baffled. “It’s not like I want to do that. I can’t help my mind, there was a memory attached to that word.” 
You stood up to get a robe, “You know that it’s not easy for me, too. I told you.” You uttered, watching his back through your vanity mirror as he stood still. “Maybe if you stop relating everything to him, then it won’t be so hard.” With that, he left the room and you don’t know if you’re hurt or just shocked that he would say something like that to you.
Because he does that to you too. And you thought that he, of all people, should understand where you’re coming from. 
—————————————-
Satoru slid the door open with force, seeing Naomi flinch as she was startled by the sound. “Where’s mom?” He asked, breathing hard and eager to just put an end to the craziness she was doing. “I convinced her that we’ll be fine.” She walked to him, smiling as she put her arms around his neck. 
“We just need to catch up on each other, I feel like we’ve been too occupied these days.” She buried her face in the crook of his neck, kissing the skin as she rubbed his nape with a soft, delicate hand. “Yeah, we got a lot to talk about.” Satoru put a hand on the small of her back. “But first, you gotta tell me what that was about.”
“I just invited her over. I didn’t know Y/N would be here, sorry.” She sighed, before dragging him to the couch. Satoru kept thinking about the scene before he left your house. That was just a lot to take in, especially when he just fought with his mother. “I got no work tomorrow, we can stay up all night.” She giggled, taking off her cardigan.
“Let’s have a couple of drinks during dinner. I’ll cook for you.” She proposed, walking to the kitchen. Checking his phone, he found himself expecting a text from you. None. You don’t give a fuck about him. He sighed, It’s okay. As long as I can see themi, he thought. He just hoped that you’d ask how things went in his house. Or if he’s hurt about ‘Dada’ Toji. All the things he shouldn’t expect.
Guess, I’ll fucking die of jealousy, then. He clenched his teeth proceeding to his bedroom. “I’ll wash up.” He spoke to Naomi, “Go on, baby. I’ll be making dinner.” She answered, glancing his way. If she’s going to be honest, she wanted to skip the talks. The truth is Naomi’s afraid of what he’ll say if she confronts him with her real thoughts.
She could easily skip those steps, and get to her goal.
Goal? Naomi’s movements halt as she realized how she sounded. She’s not a bad person, she thought. Is she really gonna do this? “If you want to be her so much then, be happy-go-lucky and watch him dump you.” Naomi’s breath hitched when his mother’s words reverberated in her head.
She can’t lose him. Not now when they’re almost settling down. She’s not being a monster, she’s not baiting him. He’ll come to her on his own like he did before. She’s just going to make him see that she’s good for him. 
Dinner time came and she prepared it more than ordinary, hoping to ignite a light in him. It’s not usual for a woman to start something like this but Naomi’s different. As she said, she’ll fight for him. “Wow, is this a date?” Satoru chuckled sitting down in front of her seat. “I just wanted to rekindle. Your mom’s right, we’re just drifting away. I can’t stand that happening.”
Walking to her chair, Naomi stopped by him and kissed his cheek. Satoru on the other hand, can’t help but feel bad. He’s sure that nothing will change even if they do this. “Try. She’s a good person.” He quickly downed a drink, letting it take your voice away. Not because he doesn’t want to listen to you, but because he’s not sure if he can do it. 
The dinner went by quickly, and they were just discussing over drinks. He can’t even count how many he downed when she started talking about how you look more plump. “They might beat us in giving Yui a sibling.” She joked, laughing because she didn’t know what was in his head. “I doubt it, she wanna get married first.” He replied monotonously before opening up about his counseling sessions.
“Counselling?” She asked. The topic is incredibly close to what Satoru’s about to confess. She stared at her wide eyes as he nodded. “Were you having problems? Baby, why didn’t you tell me? I could’ve helped you.” Her concern was sincere and it made him feel like a villain. “I wanted to be better for Yui.” And for Y/N. 
Clueless, she gave him a fond stare. “You’re a great father. Y/N knows that.”  There were times during the dinner when Satoru was so close to spitting out the truth to her but the effort she put in just to make that food on the table makes him feel remorseful. 
Satoru knows that it’s not right. But just for tonight, after all the months that he made him feel tranquil, he can spare her heart for a night or two. He didn’t want to hurt her, he didn’t want to break her heart. But staying would only mean that she’s never going to get what she wants and deserves.
“I’ll be brushing my teeth then, get to bed. The drink got to me.” He laughed, holding the chair as he stood up. “Thank you so much. For everything.” She came to hug him, kissing his lips as she murmured words of adoration to him. “Go ahead, you’re all red, can you walk?” She joked, before pushing him to go, “I’ll be with you in a few. I feel really sleepy now, too.” 
It’s been almost half an hour. Naomi checked on Satoru to find him sleeping soundly already. Not even her slam of the door woke him up. She stared at herself in the mirror, “I’m really gonna do this.” She exhaled, closing her eyes before going walking out of the bathroom. He’s still in the same position as before. 
Stepping closer, Naomi removed her silk robe, revealing her night dress. She clenched her fist tightly, before quickly releasing it just to try and get rid of the tension in her body. She sat on the bed, touching his chest and abs. Hearing him moan when she got to his lower part calmed her slightly. Just like we always do, she repeated in her head, kissing his skin.
“I’m sorry, Satoru…” She whispered one last time.
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makoodles · 9 months
Text
ミ the mightiest
part one | part two
🍓 pairing: neteyam x human fem reader
🍓tags: nsfw, aged up neteyam (obviously), jealousy, alien cultural misunderstandings, oral sex (f receiving) vaginal sex, size kink, voyeurism, brief na'vi oc x reader, mentions of reader sleeping with other na'vi men
masterlist
reblogs are always enormously appreciated!
notes: adult neteyam art created by the incredibly talented @cinetrix, whose work motivated me to write for adult neteyam in the first place!!
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It was just a fluke, you tell yourself. A moment of weirdness that had come about because… because…
Okay, so you can’t really explain it.
You don’t like Neteyam! You never have! The sight of him appearing while you’re mid-rendezvous with Txetyo (the same man he had interrupted you with only a few days before!) should have sent you into an angry tailspin. And yet, you can’t forget the pulse of excitement that had throbbed low in your belly when you realised that he was standing there watching you.
Really, you should have been the one to speak up. But it was like your brain had switched off, like all your rational thoughts had gone on a temporary leave of absence; why else would you have stayed silent instead of stopping Txetyo and drawing attention to Neteyam’s presence?
Just like after your last confusing encounter with Neteyam in the healing hut, you end up sticking close to the human outpost for the next week.
It’s probably a little cowardly to hide instead of facing your problems head on, but you don’t care. You avoid Neteyam, you avoid Txetyo, you avoid any of the guys you’ve had flings with before because even the sight of them reminds you of what had happened that night in the forest. Inevitably, that leads to you avoiding the village entirely.
The outpost is as boring as ever, but it’s better than facing the mortification that’s no doubt awaiting you in the village. But at the very least, it’s not lonely.
Spider is kind enough to keep you company in the outpost for the first few days, though you quickly wish he wouldn’t. There’s not much to do, and Spider never deals well with boredom.
“Quit that.” You grit out, your eyes sliding sideways.
Spider is sitting next to you, drumming his fingers insistently on his thighs. He sighs, rolling his eyes up towards the ceiling and leaning back on the lumpy couch you’re both sprawled on.
“This is mind-numbing.” He complains, throwing his dirty bare feet over your thighs. “It’s so boring here. I don’t think I’ve ever spent this much time inside in my whole life.”
“You don’t have to be here.” You remind him, shoving his feet off you.
Spider sighs, swinging his legs back to the ground so he can sit up properly. “Right, sure. I could leave you here alone to mope all day by yourself in your dank little bedroom. Or you could tell me what’s going on with you.”
You grumble, and avert your eyes. Okay, so maybe your avoidance has been a little more obvious than you had intended. You’ve barely missed a day in the village your whole life, and yet in the last two weeks you’ve spent most of your time hiding out in the outpost.
“Nothing’s going on.” You say, and it rings hollow even to your own ears.
Spider purses his lips. He seems pointedly unconvinced, and stretches back on the couch with his arms across the back of the headrest.
“So it has nothing to do with whatever the hell happened when you went off with Txetyo during the hunt celebrations?”
You almost wince, but manage to keep your expression neutral as you stare at your knees. “Nope.”
Spider hums. “And I suppose the fact that Neteyam very conspicuously disappeared into the forest about ten seconds after you left is also unrelated.”
That cracks your composure, and you take a shaky breath as you glance sideways at Spider’s face. He doesn’t look like he’s judging you or anything; he’s just waiting patiently for your answer, a single eyebrow raised.
“I don’t wanna talk about it.” You mutter, avoiding his eyes.
There’s a long pause, and then Spider huffs out a sigh and tilts his head back to stare at the water-stained ceiling up above you. You feel a little bad about keeping secrets from him; usually you and Spider act as each other’s confidants by virtue of the fact that the two of you are humans the same age amongst all the Na’vi. But this whole mess with Neteyam is something that you’re struggling to wrap your own head around – you don’t want to start explaining the whole mortifying ordeal to someone who was as good as your brother.
“Lo’ak’ll get it out of you.” Spider says confidently.
You groan, covering your face with your hands. “Please tell me he’s not coming over.”
“He’s worried.” Spider protests. “You’ve been acting super weird, dude.”
“He’s nosey.” You correct.
Spider shrugs, unable to argue that point. “Well, whatever.”
It’s as if speaking his name summons him, because the shoddy linoleum floor creaks behind you as a big nine-feet-tall body steps into the room. You catch a glimpse of bright blue skin out of the corner of your eye and groan, tipping your head back against the back of the couch and closing your eyes.
“Seriously, I am not in the mood to be interrogated by the Idiot Brigade today.” You complain. “Can’t you come back and bother me another time?”
There’s a pause. And then, a low voice filled with amusement says, “Am I a member of this “idiot brigade?”
That is not Lo’ak’s voice.
For a moment, you don’t even turn around. You just breathe slowly, your eyes shut tight. Maybe if you don’t turn and look, Neteyam will just vanish from your presence as if he had never spoken at all.
But instead of Neteyam’s spontaneous disappearance, you get Spider shifting on the lumpy couch beside you before climbing to his feet. Your eyes shoot open at that, and your head whips around to stare at him in disbelief.
“Where are you going?” You hiss, already reaching out after him.
Spider stops, hesitates, his eyes flicking between you and Neteyam. He looks as though he would rather be literally anywhere other than here; you know the feeling.
“Uh… I’m gonna go find Lo’ak.” Spider mutters, his eyes darting around cagily. “Seems like you two probably need time to talk some things out.”
Before you can even protest that, Neteyam is stepping forward, marching his way around the couch. You sit up, properly startled now, realising that your window for escape is rapidly narrowing.
“Tell Lo’ak not to come.” Neteyam says simply, stepping nimbly around the couch so that he’s in front of you. It’s like he knows that you were thinking of an escape, because he tilts his head as a subtle smile tugs at his mouth.
“Yeah. Got it.” Spider sounds a little strangled, sending you a look that you can’t quite decipher before turning and scampering out the door, letting it slide shut behind him with a quiet thud.
You stare at him for a long moment, your mouth hanging open like a moron. Neteyam just stares back, his expression even, as though he’s waiting for you to speak first.
You swallow thickly, then push yourself up so that you’re standing. It’s a weak attempt to put yourself on a more even level with him, but it fails as you find yourself eye-level with his damn belly button.
“What are you doing here?” You snap, though it comes out a little weaker than you had intended.
Neteyam doesn’t answer immediately. Instead he gingerly lowers himself down onto the ancient lumpy couch that you and Spider had commandeered for yourselves from the desolate wreckage of Bridgehead. He’s almost comically large for it, his knees bent awkwardly up as he settles back, the springs creaking ominously.
“You have been avoiding the village.” He says simply.
And… oh god, you can’t stop staring. It’s stupid, because you’ve known Neteyam your whole life, you know what he looks like. But it’s like your eyes are taking him in differently now. You hadn’t spent much time with him as kids; you were always chasing after Lo’ak, Kiri, and Spider, and Neteyam usually maintained a distance as he trained under the guidance of his parents. And then he was gone, departed for the reef villages, only to return after the worst of the war years had passed.
But it’s different now. He’s a man, his shoulders broader than ever and his muscles more defined than is typical of the Omaticaya warriors – no doubt thanks to his time in the reefs with the bulkier Metkayina.
Your mouth is a little dry; it’s not a good time to be reminded that you find big, muscly Na’vi men really, really attractive.
“Yeah.” You say, your voice scratchy. “Uh… I’ve been busy.”
Neteyam’s hairless brow raises in an unspoken gesture of doubt as he leans back into the couch. Your eyes dart down nervously over his abdomen. Each sculpted abdominal muscle speaks of his physical prowess and the sheer discipline and dedication to his training, and his slim waist is accentuated by the woven battle band around his waist. Fuck, you want to touch his belly.
You can hardly believe that you had this man’s cock in your hand, or that he had been grunting and fucking your fist. Maybe you had hallucinated that. Looking at him like this, taking in his big amber eyes and strong jawline and high cheekbones, you’re reminded rather harshly of just why he’s one of the most sought-after men in the village by the unmated Omaticaya girls. It seems unlikely that he’d ever lower himself to allow himself to be touched by you.
And yet, you know you hadn’t hallucinated him standing only mere feet from you in the forest, watching intently as Txetyo had railed you into the mossy ground.
As if he knows what you’re thinking, Neteyam speaks again. “Avoiding Txetyo? I do not blame you.
You almost choke at that. Good lord, the audacity of this man. He knows perfectly well that you’ve also been trying to avoid him, judging by the smug look on his face.
“No! He- he wasn’t so bad.” You protest, though the words ring unconvincingly in your own ears.
“Tawtute, you’re so tight!” Neteyam gasps mockingly, lowering his voice into a dude-bro register that decidedly does not sound like Txetyo. “Fuck, you’re so wet, I’m gonna cum—"
You squawk, hastily stepping forward to swat ineffectually at his shoulder. “Will you shut up, that’s not what–“
Neteyam grabs at your wrist when you smack his shoulders, his long fingers wrapping all the way around you before tugging. You stagger, pulled off balance as he tugs you onto the couch beside him. You end up with your limbs in an ungainly sprawl as you attempt to collect yourself beside him, flustered behind belief. He doesn’t let go of your wrist.
“And he– he made me finish, so.” You say lamely. You’re sitting next to him. Why are you sitting next to him? You should be trying to shove him up off the couch and shoo him out the door.
“I’m pretty sure you made yourself come.” Neteyam corrects, his head tilting. His glossy braids spill over his shoulders, colourful beads clicking together. “Which wouldn’t have happened if I wasn’t there, by the way.”
“Excuse me?”
“Just pointing out the obvious.” Neteyam’s smug little grin is growing, and he leans in a little closer. “I don’t think you were enjoying it at all until I showed up.”
You gape at him, stunned.
“I- you-!” You stammer, your breath catching from the sheer swell of your indignation. Who does he think he is, showing up here all muscled and gorgeous like this only to embarrass you?
“Speak for yourself!” You finally manage to splutter, trying to sit up on the couch; Neteyam’s grip on your wrist prevents you from going too far, so you give up and resign yourself to being stuck beside him until he grows bored of tormenting you. “Txetyo was– That was pretty much par for the course. I mean– it wasn’t unusual, sometimes that’s just how sex goes–“
Neteyam sits up straight, so suddenly that it startles you. His brow is furrowed, his eyes flicking rapidly over your face as though he’s trying to assess if you’re being honest.
He’s… he’s leaning in rather close to you. You blink at him, but don’t move back. It’s so rare for you to be around Neteyam without your respirator mask acting like a shield over your face, and you feel a little naked now without it.
“That was a standard experience for you?” He asks, and his voice has… changed a little. That smug amusement on his face has vanished, replaced with what looks like bewilderment.
You scoff at his surprise, rolling your eyes. “Shouldn’t you know what my standard experience is? You’ve interrupted enough of them.”
He doesn’t respond to your snarky remark. He just stares at you as if he’s examining you, and you shift awkwardly on the couch, unsure in the face of his scrutiny.
“What, you’re surprised that all men aren’t sex gods?” You ask a little testily. “They want to experiment with a Sky Person, and I like sex with Na’vi men, so… win-win.”
Neteyam just frowns, pulling back a little. “No, that’s not… I don’t understand. Why do you spend time with them if they are not successful in pleasuring you?”
Boy, is that a loaded question. You don’t want to explain to Neteyam that it’s not really about sex, that it’s more about a pathological need for physical connection and comfort, especially when you try your very hardest not to think about it yourself.
“Maybe I’m just hoping one of them will really impress me.” You mumble, a little sourly. “I guess I’ll keep holding out hope.”
Neteyam’s ears flatten, pressing low against his head as his eyes widen a little. He shifts, his body looming over you like a big blue behemoth as the couch springs squeal beneath his weight.
“I could.” He says. “Impress you, I mean.”
You snort, glancing up at him with a wry sort of smile that falls off your face almost immediately when you see the look on Neteyam’s face. His expression is perfectly earnest, his jaw set and his pupils dilated with an odd sort of urgency that you’ve never seen from him. He… he doesn’t look as though he’s making fun of you at all.
“What?” You croak, blinking.
And then you realise what all this about. Neteyam is always so determined to prove himself, to be the best at everything. He’s always pushed himself beyond his limits and worked himself to the bone to be stronger and faster and wiser, to be a better leader and a better hunter and a better fighter. You probably shouldn’t even be surprised that now he’s decided to prove that he’s better than his peers at fucking you, too.
“This is just a competition for you, isn’t it?” You scoff, yanking your wrist out of his hand. He shifts forward on the couch then as though preparing to catch you if you move to run, but you’re not making any move to leave.
“No. They are not worthy competitors.” Neteyam scoffs as if the question is absurd. “This is to prove to you that you have been wasting your time with men who are not capable of pleasing you.”
You scoff again, but it’s a much weaker sound this time. “I–”
“You have bad taste in men, paskalin.” Neteyam murmurs, shuffling closer on the ancient couch.
You stare up at him, your breath catching a little in your chest. God, he’s so much bigger than you. You hate that it’s making your body heat up, and you feel yourself growing wet as he leans in close, smelling like fresh water and the forest.
“Are you going to let me?” Neteyam whispers, reaching out to trace a finger along your jawline. “Let me prove myself.”
You should say no. You should tell him to leave, to get out. You should absolutely not feed into his own ego by fucking him.
“Yes,” You breathe stupidly. “Okay.”
You’re expecting him to grab you immediately and flip you around onto either your back or stomach; in all your previous experiences, you’ve gotten right down to it with your partners. But to your surprise, Neteyam leans in and holds your hips with his big hands as he presses his mouth to yours in a kiss.
Kissing is not something that you’re used to; the Na’vi you’ve hooked up with have stayed clear of the human outpost, unlike the Sully kids who had paid frequent visits, which means that all of your sexual encounters have occurred in the forest or in empty corners in the village with your respirator mask firmly attached to your face.
Now your face feels naked and vulnerable, and you gasp shakily against Neteyam’s mouth when he leans in and kisses you firmly.
It’s slow and deep, at first. All-consuming. It lights a fire in your gut, which expands and spreads throughout your body.
Neteyam doesn’t just kiss with his mouth, either. He kisses with his hands, his whole body. He clutches you to him, holding you close even as the force of his kiss bends you backward, your body pressing into the raggedy couch cushions.
At the same time, it’s all you can do to concentrate and respond to the kiss itself, your attention stretched and strained by the feeling of Neteyam’s hands running over you, stroking your sides and clutching your neck and squeezing your ass.
“Hah,” You gasp out when Neteyam’s lips slide sideways to find the corner of your jaw. His mouth is hot against your skin, bruising, and you’re embarrassingly wet already, just from a little kissing.
Fuck, he’s a good kisser. That’s so annoying.
You run out of breath too fast, and you have to gasp. Neteyam breaks the kiss for barely even a second, and shifts some of his weight to his elbows as he follows you down onto the couch, nuzzling and nipping at your jaw before returning to your mouth.
There’s a hand on either side of your head during that blink-and-you-miss-it break in the kiss, but then he moves his big hands to hold onto your face like they’re afraid you’ll escape, and now they don’t want to let go at all. One of his hands cups your jaw, the other clasping around the back of your neck and tilting your head farther back, deeper into the couch, opening you up. You think about the fact that he can thread his fingers together behind your head with his palms pressed to your cheeks and nearly moan like a whore into his mouth.
Neteyam’s eagerness surprises you. The kiss is messy and graceless and airless and greedy, frantic and full of teeth, and you can only roll your hips in reflex, in mindless desperation, in a feeble attempt to buck, your mind repeating a refrain of yes holy shit holy shit YES. You can’t even squirm, because holy hot fuck Neteyam is heavy, and he’s got every inch of you covered and owned.
God, have you always been this easy? Just kiss you, feel you up a little and want you enough and you’ll end up happily whimpering under someone on the couch? Even someone like Neteyam, who you’ve been so resentful of for so long?
You spread your thighs, and Neteyam’s narrow hips slot into place like a damn puzzle piece. Neteyam hums a small laugh and pauses, pulls back an inch or so, gazing steadily at your lips and smoothing the tips of his thumbs back and forth over your cheekbones. He takes a moment to fumble with his respirator and takes a deep breath before dropping it and leaning down to kiss you again.
“Oh, fuck.” You whimper, your eyes fluttering shut when his hips roll fluidly against you.
You pull back from the kiss, just enough to get a look at his face. His eyes are a little clouded, his lips puffy and spit-slicked. He looks dazed, and there's a thin line of saliva connecting your mouths together. His brow scrunches in a frown, as though you pulling away from him is a personal offence.
Oh god, you think. I'm so fucked.
The hand that had been cupping your cheek releases you, slides down your body as well. Your breath hitches when he passes over your breasts, drags down the plush skin of your belly, before reaching in between your thighs to cup at your pussy over your clothes. His hand tightens, grabbing you. Cunt, pubic bone, the whole shebang, all of it right there in the palm of Neteyam’s shockingly big hand.
“Bedroom.” You gasp, your head spinning as he just holds your cunt over your denim shorts. “Bedroom now.”
Neteyam grins, and wraps his arms around your waist to haul you into his arms before he lifts you off the couch and practically staggers down the hall. His excitement surprises you, and you cling to his neck as he ducks his way through the corridor.
Mercifully the outpost is quiet today, with most of its human occupants out in the forest or in the village – that means there’s no one around the witness the sight of Neteyam’s enormous blue ass squeezing himself in through the small doorway of the closet-like bedroom you’d claimed for yourself, with you dangling from his arms like a doll.
You’re still breathing hard when Neteyam clumsily gets the door shut before placing you on your squeaky old bed, following you down on it. He’s careful not to crush you with the bulk of his body, instead resting his weight on his forearms where they’re planted on either side of your head.
The consideration makes something squirm in your belly, and you reach up to intertwine your fingers at the back of his head and pull him down to resume kissing him.
Neteyam rolls his hips into yours, and you can feel the thick ridge of his erection pressing into the seam of your shorts, right over your clit. The sound you make is absolutely humiliating, and you will deny ever making it until your last breath, but you twitch as you try to catch that exact same friction again.
And fuck, kissing like this may be new to you, but you never want to stop. You didn’t even know that kissing with tongue could feel so erotic; Neteyam’s hands are on your face again, angling you this way and that way and however the fuck Neteyam feels like angling you, and goddamn he must be doing it just because he can.
You try desperately to remember any little kissing tricks you’ve learned and draw a pathetic blank. Luckily, Neteyam seems intent on showing off. His creativity is more than enough to occupy you both, and you’re too busy being excruciatingly horny to really be self-conscious anyway.
Besides, your next exhale is a chest-rattling groan, and if Neteyam’s immediate grunt of approval and slow thirsty grind against your trapped body is any indication, then you're doing just fine by his standards.
But then, to your absolute distress, Neteyam pulls away.
“Hhh — Shit! Shit, hang on. Shit.” Neteyam hisses, turning his face away and levering himself up on his arms. He’s breathing hard, and the sound of the English curse words falling out of his mouth in that strained tone of voice has your thighs squeezing together pathetically.
“What?” You ask, your voice sounding dazed and stupid even to your own ears.
Neteyam huffs out a few centering breaths and then shakes out his head to clear it. He fumbles for the respirator, takes several deep gulps of air before dropping it again. He angles his hips away from you for a moment, breathing steadily.
“Why’d you stop?” You hate the way the words come out as a whine; you feel as though you’re losing your mind, as though you’re actually going to die if he doesn’t keep kissing you.
Neteyam breathes out a quiet laugh, sounding a little disbelieving as he drops his forehead down to rest on your shoulder.
“Fuck.” He whispers, but he doesn’t answer your question. Instead, he pushes himself down your body, sliding between your legs.
When he tugs your shorts, you lift your hips eagerly to help him shuck your pants off. As he’s tugging at your panties, you work on yanking your oversized pyjama shirt off you. It feels as though the two of you are descending into a frenzy, touching and kissing and tearing at each other like animals.
When you’re naked beneath him you shiver, staring up at him in eager anticipation. You wait for him to come back up and kiss you, to take his own loincloth off and stick his cock into you, but he doesn’t. Instead, his head bullies its way in between your thighs.
“No,” You whine, making a face. You don’t want him to waste time with eating you out when you’re ready now. “Just put it in.”
Neteyam shoots you a reproachful look as though he thinks you’re acting crazy. “You said you would let me please you.”
“But–” You frown, feeling a little ridiculous for having this conversation when his big head is blinking up at you from between the pudge of your thighs. “You don’t have to. I don’t enjoy getting head all that much anyway.”
But instead of changing his mind, that just makes him snort as though you’d told a damn joke.
“Let me show you, syulang.” He whispers, turning his head and brushing his lip over the soft skin of your inner thigh. He kisses you there, and then sucks a hickey-like bruise into the squidge there.
And damn, you can’t turn him down.
“Fine.” You sigh, a little irritated, and spread your legs wider so that Neteyam can muscle his way in.
He grins as if he knows something you don’t, grabs your legs and pulls them so your thighs are hanging off his big broad shoulders. You can feel his warm breath ghosting over you between your legs, and you prepare to lie back and let him lick you down there until he deems you’re wet enough to start fucking you properly.
But then he actually gets his mouth on you, and… oh. Oh.
You tilt your head back, staring at the ceiling with wide eyes. That feels… better than you had expected, actually.
Each of Neteyam’s movements are calculated, precise. He laps against your clit, then closes his lips and sucks. You nearly yelp, but manage to tamp down on your reaction and merely wheeze instead. Neteyam points his tongue and presses inside of you, sucks and licks like he’s actually eating something. At one point, he even bites, and you jerk so hard that you accidentally grind against his face.
It’s not like any of the head you have ever received. You’ve enjoyed it before, sure, but it’s never felt like this, and it’s definitely never made you come. And yet, to your honest surprise, you can feel a familiar coil of tension beginning to build deep in your abdomen.
“Oh god.” You breathe, sounding a little bewildered.
You feel his tongue against your clit again, hardly noticing that his hands are gripping at your ass until he yanks you forward as he buries his whole damn face between your legs. His fingers return, delving into you, deep and searching. His mouth works against your clit and it feels like you’re being squeezed between the kinds of pleasure, worshipped and wrung out and attacked all at once.
“Neteyam,” You gasp like a fool. “Oh, what the fuck, it– Neteyam, hang on, it’s too–”
Neteyam is still devouring you, sucking hard and persistent until you cry out. You try to clench your thighs around his head as he laps at you like a man starved, but his hands are still on your thighs, locking you in an iron grip, keeping you spread wide for him, and you can hardly breath because every time you think to try and take a breath his tongue is moving over your clit again and he’s sucking against you.
Your head swims, and you wonder why on earth you had been so resistant to allow him to make you feel good like this. Fuck, have you just been getting really bad head this whole time? You didn’t even know it could feel like this.
Your heels are digging into his back, and the closer he brings you to the edge the harder your thighs clamp around his head. He barely seems to notice the force you’re exerting, merely groaning to himself everytime you squeeze tighter.
Your thoughts splinter and unravel, and you can do nothing but buck uselessly against his hold, desperately chasing more of his lips and his tongue.
“Oh god, oh god, oh god.” You chant, eyes squeezed shut tight as you whine.
He's just so good with his tongue, and you’ve never felt like this in your life. It feels as though you can't breathe properly, as though you’re melting from the inside out. None of those awkward, fumbling sexual encounters with those other Na’vi ever had you feeling like this.
Your breasts are heaving with the effort it takes just to breathe through the white hot pleasure crashing through you, and you stare down at him with wide eyes as he suckles again at your clit. When he sees you looking down at him, he throws you a cheeky wink as he laps at you.
You let out a helpless, gasping laugh at him, your hands clenching compulsively in his braids. Your giggle has him pulling back a little so he can look up at you properly; the grin he shoots you is extra shiny thanks to the fact that the lower half of his face is covered in his spit and your own slick, but he looks dopey and happy.
You manage one word, on a long and broken moan- “Please!”
Neteyam laughs quietly, the sound vibrating through his lips and into your pussy, but then his tongue is on your clit again, sucking you into his mouth, and you’re shattering around him as he finally pushed you over that edge you’ve been teetering on.
You keen and shake violently, spasming around Neteyam’s fingers and jerking into his mouth, coming so hard that you see black spots in your vision. Neteyam doesn’t let up, pulling broken moans out of you with tongue until you’re writhing.
You squirm and whimper until suddenly it’s too damn much, and then you’re reaching down to push at Neteyam’s neat braids to try to get away from his relentless tongue. Damn, he’s acting like he’s hungry for you, like he’d swallow you whole if he could. He doesn’t let up until you’re begging him to, albeit wordlessly — whimpering and shoving at his face, trying to arch away from the too-sensitive touch.
Finally, Neteyam relents. He lowers your legs from his shoulders and you practically crumple, going limp against your mattress. Neteyam’s face is wet and shiny, and he looks ridiculously smug. You’re still trembling, throbbing with the aftershocks.
“Mm, you sound so pretty.” Neteyam murmurs, his words coming out muffled and almost slurred as though he’s drunk.
“Fuck.” You whisper to yourself, staring at the ceiling with wide eyes as you struggle to catch your breath.
Neteyam hums, pressing kisses all over your pubic mound and lower belly. He seems so damn pleased with himself, pushing himself up your body so that he can nuzzle into your neck, pressing sweet nipping kisses to your throat.
His breathing is a little strained, and you grab blindly at the respirator hanging around his neck before bringing the mask up to his face.
“Breathe, Neteyam.” You gasp out, still a little breathless yourself.
He grunts, as though irritated over something of secondary importance, and takes a couple of deep breaths before dropping the mask again. His pupils are blown so wide that his iris is barely visible, just a thin ring of gold around a pool of black.
You laugh, panting and overwhelmed at the sight of his shiny face, and reach up to wipe his slick face with the palms of your hands. He huffs a quiet laugh of his own, turning his face towards your hands and nuzzling against you like an oversized cat.
“That was… that was better than I expected.” You say, still struggling to collect yourself.
Neteyam’s smile turns a little sly, his teeth flashing as he kisses at your palms. “Impressed?”
And you can’t help but laugh at that, feeling as though this whole situation is spinning around far beyond your wildest imagination. Fuck, he’s really giving his all to this, just to prove to you that he’s superior to the other men of the clan.
“Not yet.” You whisper, biting your lip and hoping that he takes it as the challenge/invitation you mean it to be.
And luckily he does, his smile only growing.
“I should keep going then.” He murmurs, his hands stroking up your sides.
He gently caresses both breasts, a little knead of big, rough hands that can cover much more than just one tit and you love it. Your back arches as you shiver, revelling in how bizarrely gentle he’s being with you.
“Yes,” You whisper eagerly, your legs spreading further until the muscles of your inner thighs are burning with the strain of it. “You definitely should.”
You reach out to tug at the band of his loincloth, your fingers actually trembling a little as you try to unknot it at the sides. Neteyam’s own breath hitches, and his much more nimble fingers reach to help you untie it and draw it away.
And fuck, now he’s naked too. You sit up eagerly, peering down between your bodies to try and catch a look at him properly. You may have touched him that day in the healing hut, but it’s completely different seeing him.
He’s big. So big. All the Na’vi are big when compared to you, of course, but this just… it feels different, because this is Neteyam. His cock is the same pretty blue shade as the rest of him, decorated with darker stripes and pretty glowing tanhì. Your heart thumps recklessly at sight of it twitching towards his belly, and you reach out towards it eagerly.
Your small fingers wrap around the hard length of him — he’s too thick for you to comfortably hold in one hand, but that doesn’t seem to matter because he groans appreciatively anyway when you run your fingers down his length and then back up, feeling warm and sticky precome gushing from the tip to coat your fingers.
“Ah!” Neteyam groans breathily, his hips rocking as your hand slides up the long, velvety length of him. “Fuck… so good.”
You feel like you’re burning up, your skin sweat-slick and far too hot. The weight of his cock in your hand has your head spinning; you want him inside of you, stretching you wide and fucking you deep. If he fucks as good as he eats pussy, you feel like you’re in for a very good time.
“C’mon,” You breathe, writhing a little. “You– you promised me that you’d.. That you would…”
“Mm, I promised I’d make you feel better than Txetyo ever could,” Neteyam finishes for you, leaning in to kiss your neck. “You like ‘em big and stupid, huh? That’s why they can’t please you, syulang.”
You toss your head back, your eyes fluttering shut as his sharp canines drag over the sensitive skin at the side of your throat. Fuck, maybe he’s right. None of those guys have ever made you feel this good before; you don’t think you’ve ever been this slick and eager in your whole life.
“God, you have such a big head,” You huff, quivering. “Maybe you’re big and stupid too.”
He just laughs at that, a dark chuckle that has your nerves buzzing, and leans down to nip at your shoulder hard enough to make you jerk beneath him. “I am not like Txetyo, or Art’alak, or Pewalsku, or Urtiltey.”
You scoff, before reaching up to push hard at his shoulders. You’re not actually strong enough to shift him, but he pulls back obediently, falling back to lay on his back on the bed. You rise up on your knees then, looming over him as he lays flat.
The way Neteyam is looking up at you, it’s like he’s seeing god. If he could worship you with just a look alone, he is. It’s a little overwhelming, and you feel something deep in your stomach knot just at the sight of him looking at you like that.
“Prettiest little thing I’ve ever seen.” Neteyam whispers, reaching out to grip at your hips, guiding you into straddling his lap.
You don’t think anyone has ever talked to you like this, or looked at you like this. You hardly know what to do in the face of his attention, so you revert to what you’re familiar with; you settle yourself against his lap and grind there, feeling the length of his cock glide along the seam of your cunt.
It feels as though your belly has been set alight, and you take a slow breath as you rock against him. His lips drag from the base of your throat up the length of your neck, then he nips gently at the hinge of your jaw. The softness of his breath against the sensitive skin of your throat elicits a shiver from you, and Neteyam’s hands pull you closer when he feels your reaction.
You make a soft sound against his mouth when his fingers clench tight around your hips. His hold on you encourages you to grind down against him. It's not as though you really need the encouragement, but the way his eyes darken as he stares up at you is enough motivation for you to tilt your hips and grind down just like he wants you to.
"Fuck." He breathes, his eyes going half-lidded as he tilts his head back against your bed to watch you move above him.
Heat is growing alarmingly quickly in your lower belly and at the apex of your thighs, and you tremble over Neteyam as you use your grip on his shoulders for leverage. The soft sounds of pleasure that are pulled out of his throat every time you roll yourself against him send sparks through your entire nervous system; it feels as though you just can't get close enough to him.
Your patience runs out, unable to keep up the teasing; Neteyam seems to feel much the same. When you raise yourself up, chest heaving, Neteyam grabs at his cock and holds it still to allow you to settle against it, the head notched against your entrance. He glides over the opening again, pressing in the barest amount. You can already tell it’s going to be a stretch. Neteyam is thick, and you want it in you, want to feel it pressing you open.
You clench around the head of his cock, trying to pull him in, and Neyeyam groans.
“You’re—” He starts to say, his big hands clutching at your hips. “Shit. You’re tighter than I even imagined, paskalin.”
The idea that he might have imagined this is almost more than you can take, and you surge forward to kiss him again, your mouths clashing clumsily.
“You—you thought about it?” You manage to say, your words coming out a little muffled as he sucks at your lower lip.
He just rumbles a laugh, as though your question is ridiculous, and doesn’t even bother answering. Instead he places one hand securely under your ass, the other adjusting himself—there’s a short, sharp burst of pain as you felt him start to push in, just the tip and your head is spinning. Your nails are digging into his shoulders but if he feels anything it doesn’t show.
He kisses your cheek and then pushes in a little deeper as his mouth falls to yours once more—swallowing up your sharp cry as another inch sinks into you, and you feel like you’re splitting open.
Fuck, you feel as though not grabbing lube was probably a mistake; you were too cocky, too confident in your ability to take him, so sure that he’d be as adequately satisfactory as the other Na’vi men you’ve been with.
He goes in and in and in, pressing farther into you than you even thought was possible. The stretch and the pressure inside you is glorious, so tight that you can barely even flex around him. His mouth is open, each breath escaping him quickly, and you can see your own amazement reflected back to you on Neteyam’s face.
You dig your nails into his shoulders to offset the pain radiating through your core as he shoves himself deeper into you, chased by another wave of warmth as his free hand move between you, thumb settling gently over your clit.
“Ohmygod,” You gasp, pleasure mixing with that burning ache. You squeal, but your noises are half-moans as you try to rock your hips against his hand even as you try to ease the feeling of his girth inside you.
“Ungh..” Neteyam groans into you shoulder as he rocks another inch into you, until you’re sobbing and moaning by turns. “Oh. Fuck. Txetyo didn’t deserve this, syulang. Didn’t know what to do with you.”
You whimper in his grip as he just holds you there, buried to the hilt, thumb still working at your clit and sending frissons of electricity up and down your spine.
“Feels good,” You slur. “You feel good.”
Neteyam pulls out half an inch and fucks back into you from below, making your breath hitch. “Yeah?”
“So big,” You gasp. “I-I want—"
“I know, I know. I’ve got you,” Neteyam rumbles, his full lips brushing gentle kisses over your temple, right in your hairline. “Take what you want, lovely girl.”
And you do, rocking your hips and taking one of his enormous hands to pull between your legs so he can continue to rub at your clit with his fingers, so he can feel all the ways you’re leaking onto him as you lean forward to run your own hungry mouth along his collarbone, his pecs, as your hands grip his shoulders to try and lift yourself up and onto him over and over again.
It doesn’t take long for that coil in your belly to swell, sweet and hot. It’s as if Neteyam is intimately familiar with the way you want him to rub your clit, how you want it pinched but only just so between two fingers, as if he’s been taking fucking notes all those times he had walked in and interrupted you. It doesn’t take long until you’re trembling and squeezing impossibly tight around him, taut like a violin string.
It’s like Neteyam is puncturing your lungs, and every time he fucks into you, you respond with stupid sounding little ‘ah’ sounds.
“Ah, ah, ah!” You gasp, teary-eyed and desperate. Neteyam’s mouth is parted, his eyes wide. They flick over you quickly, drinking you in as you ride him.
Your movements are slow to build, but gradually you establish a steady, desperate rocking. It doesn't take long for you to realise that grinding in his lap feels better than raising yourself all the way up and down. Distantly, you feel little guilty — you know that grinding and rocking in his lap in the way that you are feels better for you than it does for Neteyam, but he doesn't seem to mind. He's watching you with a rapturous expression, his arms urging you closer so that your sweat-slicked chests are pressed close together and your foreheads are resting against each other.
You find a rhythm that both satisfies and stokes you, riding him with abandon as your thighs clench tight around his narrow hips. Neteyam’s hands slide from your hips down over your lower back, worshipful as they drift lower to clutch at your ass and use his grip there to help lift you up and down.
You ride him with mindless intent. His fingers dig at the meat of your ass, his mouth dropped softly open as he fights to keep his own breaths even — it takes a long moment for you to realise that he's fighting to keep himself still and to stop himself from thrusting wildly into you. His restraint and the realisation that he's really allowing you to have all the power in the exchange strikes you hard. You’ve never felt any real sense of agency in sexual intimacy until now, and the realisation that he's being so considerate of how you’re feeling only contributes to the intensifying of those flutters in your belly.
The rush builds in you, relentless, mounting with every jerk of your hips. There would be no catching your breath until it broke.
You rock on him, hard, hard and fast and there, there it is, that’s it — that perfect deep unfurling. A moan rises from the depths of your chest as you gasp at it, your body trembling. Neteyam just stares up at you, mouth open, eyes gone wide and dark.
The wave crests, the world explodes around you, a kaleidoscope of sensation as you come undone in his arms, trembling even as he keeps sliding home into you. You keep moving over him through the ebb of it, through the helpless little sounds that break from his throat. You’re still shuddering when he reaches up to take a firm hold of your waist. As though he can't help himself, his hips thrust up into you.
“Yes,” Neteyam hisses, his flat nose all scrunched up in a feral sort of pleasure. “That’s my girl.”
You tremble, gasp-moaning as your joints turn to jelly. Your orgasm very slowly gives way to thunderous aftershocks that rocket through your body every few seconds, shuddering your whole frame in intervals.
"Fuck," He groans, his breathing gone ragged. "I'm going to-"
He doesn't even finish his sentence before he seems to lose some of that iron control he's been exerting; his hips jolt up into you, and then again, until he's thrusting up into you with a sense of urgency that's almost breath-taking. All you can do is cling onto his hair and bury your face into the crook of his neck, attempting to muffle the embarrassing little gasping sounds that you’re making into his skin as his fucking into you prolongs the breath-taking pleasure of your orgasm.
You don’t fuss when his big hands use his grip on your ass to lift you up himself, fucking up into you and letting loose. Then he's shaking, stilling, spilling himself inside you, and you watch eagerly as his face goes slack and relaxed.
You don't go still immediately. Your hips keep rolling slow and steady as you tremble against him, chasing that feeling of molten shivery pleasure that's still burning in your belly even as it starts to turn into almost unbearable oversensitivity. It's not a fully conscious movement, as you’re moving mostly on instinct, and after a few moments Neteyam takes a hold of your hips to slow you to a stop.
He stays inside you like this for what feels like an eternity, spent and nestled deep inside you as you sit in his lap, slumped against his large strong chest.
"Oh my god," You whisper eventually as another pleasant shudder jolts down your spine. It feels as though you’ve been kicked in the chest, as though the breath has been knocked out of you entirely to make room for the lovely floaty lightness that's beginning to fill the space between your ribcage”
"Mm." Neteyam hums quietly, his fingers tightening in the soft flesh of your hips as he tilts his chin up to brush his lips over your sweaty temple. "Alright?”
No, You think, with no small amount of panic. You’re absolutely not alright. Neteyam may have just been fucking you to prove a point, because it’s always been so important to him that he’s perfect at everything he tries his hand at, but it feels as though he’s just cracked you wide open. You don’t think anyone will ever make you feel as good as he just did.
When you don’t immediately answer, one of his big palms cups the back of your neck so he can tilt your head back, and he leans down to kiss you again. He sucks your swollen bottom lip into his mouth so he can worry at it while you whine, toes curled where you tucked them under your legs, balanced on his thighs.
"Impressed?” He murmurs into your ear, his warm, dry hands stroking soothingly over your sweat-dampened skin.
You laugh despite yourself, and it comes out breathless and broken. “Fuck. I—yeah. Yeah. I’m impressed. Asshole.”
Neteyam’s expression brightens, his ears twitch back as his smile grows. He leans in and kisses you again, once, twice, then three times in quick succession, and out of the corner of your eye you see his tail coiling lazily against your sheets.
“Feel like I need to lay down,” You say. “For a week maybe.”
Neteyam just chuckles as you slowly lift your hips; when Neteyam slides out of you a soft sound of loss escapes from his mouth. You sympathise — you feel uncomfortably empty now that he's no longer nestled inside of you, but Neteyam is already gathering you into his arms and flopping back onto your mattress with you all curled up ontop of his chest.
It all feels so natural — you’ve never cuddled after intimacy like this, and you never would have imagined that Neteyam would allow you to do this. But it seems like he craves physical touch as badly as you does, because it feels as though his hands are everywhere as he holds you.
"Don't look so pleased with yourself, dickhead." You grumble, though you’re already relaxing under the pleasant warm weight of his hands
Neteyam’s smile only grows. "Why shouldn't I be pleased with myself? Have I left you unsatisfied?
You groan loudly, before burying your face in the pillow. The worst part is that it's true — you’ve never felt so satisfied in your life. You think that you could close your eyes and cheerfully float away on a cloud, but you don't want to suffer the humiliation of admitting that.
“I’m satisfied.” You admit, mortified. “It— yeah. You won that stupid competition. Well done.”
That has exactly the effect you had expected it to have; Neteyam’s chest puffs up where you’re laying across it, his eyes crinkling up as he grins. God, he’s so fucking smug.
You manage to swallow down your embarrassment so that you can ask the question that’s been knocking around your head since the first time he had kissed you.
“Can we… do that again, sometime?” You mutter, keeping your face pressed into his chest so he can’t see the vulnerability on your face.
Neteyam’s chest rumbles in a deep laugh, and his large palm settles between your shoulderblades.
“Whenever you want, yawntutsyìp. We have all the time in the world.” He murmurs, nuzzling his face into your hair. “Where ever you want. Here, the forest, my hut in the village—”
You laugh, blinking in surprise at his eagerness. You guess he must be absolutely pussy-whipped right now, which is pretty sweet.
“Next time we mate, we’ll do it in the forest so Txetyo can find us.” He says, and you can feel his teeth against the top of your head when he grins. “Let him watch as I make you scream again.”
"I did not scream!" You snap, embarrassed, reaching to smack at his chest. But then his words actually parse in your head, and you push yourself up quickly on top of his chest so you can look down at him, wincing a little at the ache between your legs.
Neteyam obviously catches your wince because he frowns and one of his hands reaches for your thigh, but you grab at his wrist as you gape at him.
“What the fuck did you just say?” You blurt.
That must have been a slip of his tongue. Every man you’ve been with before has been so damn careful to avoid the term mating, obviously terrified of you somehow getting the wrong idea; they made it painfully clear that it was just fucking, with no strings attached, because you were small and exotic and apparently the tightest thing they’ve ever gotten to put their dicks into.
Neteyam blinks owlishly, as though confused by your response. “What?” He asks, before his face relaxes. “Ah, it’s only the thought of me watching that does it for you?”
“No, it—” You blink at him. “You said… you said next time we… we mate.”
“Yes.” He says, wrapping one big arm around your waist to tug you back to him, as though he doesn’t like the fact that you’re shifting away. “I enjoyed mating here, where I can kiss your face, but it is very...”
He pauses then, and glances around your room. For the first time, you see it through his eyes; it’s small and dingy, the electric lights buzzing and flickering as they run on the ancient generator that Norm and a couple of the other older scientists had dragged from Bridgehead. Even though he’s gotten comfortable cuddling you on your bed, it’s far too small for him; his legs are hanging off the end of it, his feet flat against the floor. Compared to the fantastical natural homes of the Na’vi, your little bedroom seems like a shithole.
“You will be more comfortable in my hut in the village.” Neteyam says decisively, using the arm wrapped around your waist to pull you closer to his chest again. “I wish to take you in the forest, at Vitrautral, as is tradition.”
“Mating.” You repeat, just to check if you had heard him right. “We—that was mating.”
“Mhmm.” Neteyam’s hum sounds casual enough, but you can see the ridiculously pleased wave of his tail in the air behind him. “I told you that you were wasting time with those skxawngs, but I did not mind waiting for you. I did not like hearing them talk about you, about how you felt and how they pleased you, but… I knew I could prove myself a better prospect than all of them.”
“But—” You’re still struggling with this, staring at him with a bewildered expression. “But it—that was sex. It wasn’t—”
“I will take you to Vitrautral tomorrow, and mate you properly,” Neteyam murmurs, and you feel his big chest rumble beneath you in a pleased purr at the idea. “You do not need any other now. Yes?”
It feels almost too good to be true. Almost. Because damn, you want that so badly that it actually aches. After so many years of craving intimacy of any kind, it seems shockingly unlikely that it’s being offered by Neteyam, the very personification of an Omaticayan golden child. How have you gone from getting fucking in empty corners and deep in the forest to having the Olo’eyktan’s son talk about mating you?
You think of the herbs and plants he always brings to the healing hut, the bones and fibres he forages, the food he brings you after hunts. You had always thought he was just shoving how great he was in your face, but now all of that is starting to rearrange itself inside your head. Was he seriously just trying to impress you?
You laugh a little disbelievingly, and Neteyam’s arm tightens around you.
“I have a necklace,” He murmurs, nuzzling against your forehead. “Made with freshwater pearls from the ocean. I was going to give it to you earlier but—we got distracted. It is in my tewng—”
“Get it later,” You whisper, clinging to his chest. You’re so comfortable, you don’t want to move, just in case the moment slips away forever. He made you a necklace. Fuck, he made you a necklace! You’ve only ever seen Na’vi mating gifts from a distance; the thought of receiving one is beyond anything you’ve ever imagined.
Neteyam’s chest seems to swell, his expression brightening the moment you cling to him. He hugs you close, his purr now reminiscent of a damn chainsaw as he curls his whole big body around you.
Taking a chance, you do something that you’ve always sort of wanted to do, ever since you found out what it was; you reach behind him and take his kuru in your hand, feeling the thick, glossy protective braid in your fingers.
Neteyam shudders under you, his rumbling purr stuttering a little as his eyelids flitter, his eyes going dark. He doesn’t stop you, watching you with lightly parted lips as your hand closes around the most sacred, sensitive part of him.
“This is okay?” You whisper, your vulnerability clear in your voice.
“Of course,” He whispers back, as though the moment is a soap bubble that could burst at a slightly raised voice. “It is yours, syulang.”
Emboldened, you drag your fist down the glossy braid until you reach the end, where the glowing tendrils that make up the exposed manifestation of his nervous system. The fleshy pink tendrils writhe in the air, and you watch in eager amazement. You’ve only ever seen diagrams of this part of the Na’vi anatomy, and you want so badly to touch it.
“You can play with it all you want,” Neteyam murmurs, and his voice is breathless.
You breathe a laugh, glancing up at him with a little grin. His pupils are blown, his lips parted, his chest heaving. You want to gnaw on his ribs, swallow him whole; he’s so cute.
“I’ll save that for tomorrow,” You whisper, the words ringing like a promise.
Neteyam looks briefly disappointed, before his mood is promptly buoyed at the thought of mating you again at the Tree of Souls, as he had promised you. He buries his face happily in your neck as you pet absently at the protective braid covering his kuru. It’s a non-sexual touch, and yet he goes entirely boneless, purring up a storm as you stroke your hand over it.
“Told you those others could not please you, paskalin,” He murmurs, his words slurring a little as his eyelids flutter with every soft touch to his kuru. “Told you they did not know what to do with you.”
You roll your eyes, but you can’t help the fond smile pulling at your mouth.
“Mm. You did. Guess I needed someone like you, huh? A mighty warrior?” You say, teasing him with that silly little nickname he always called himself when you were a teenager. At the time you had thought he was so annoying, but now, looking back… you’re willing to admit it was pretty adorable.
Neteyam’s drowsy face pulls up in a sweet smile, his flat nose brushing against your collarbones. It seems like he’s pleased you remembered, or maybe he’s pleased that you’re impressed with him.
He kisses your neck, then mumbles sleepily, “The mightiest.”
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xxblairexxss · 9 months
Text
Belief
Pairing : dad!Charles Leclerc x mom!reader
Theme : Angst, fluff
Still felt like something’s missing with this one 😩
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“Y/N, listen–“
“No, Charles, I’m done.” You brushed past him with your duffel bag that you had prepared days before because you knew he would still keep on denying everything.
“What do you mean you’re done? Y/N, please listen to me.”
“Let’s go, baby.” Taking your baby girl’s hand, you pulled her up to her feet as she threw her toys on the floor.
“Where are you going? Y/N, you can’t do this to me.
“I’m going home. I’m not coming back until you set your priority straight.” You took little steps while your daughter trailed after you, constantly checking back, wondering why her daddy is not coming along.
“I told you she’s a new physiotherapist ! Please, don’t do this.”
“Physiotherapist won’t be in your room all cuddled up like that! You think I’m a fool?” You wiped your tears with the back of your hand, eyes still looking at your husband in disbelief as you felt every trust you had for him far gone.
“I don’t know what the news said but those didn’t happen, baby–“
“Don’t call me that.”
He breathed in, hand on his forehead as he squeezed his eyes shut and took a step back. “Y/N, none of the things happened. Yes, she was in my room but nothing happened. You need to trust me!”
“Dada not come?” Your daughter asked as she stood up after you put on her shoes. Her little hand goes back into yours.
“Dada’s not coming, sweetheart. Dada has work.” You tugged on her little hands and turned around to leave but she refused to follow, pulling you back the the little force she had.
“But I want dada.” She yanked her hand from your grip and ran back to hug Charles’s legs. “Dada follow?”
Charles then crouched down and gave his little girl a kiss on her forehead. “Dada can’t come, princess. Take care of mommy for dada, alright?” His arm went around her little frame when the circled her arms around his neck, hugging him.
“See you later, dada!”
“Y/N.” The soft tone of his voice nearly knocked down the wall that you were trying to build in your heart. When you turned around, you saw he took few steps closer to plant a kiss on your forehead, mumbling the words “I love you” as he pulled away. Both you and Charles had made a promise on the early stage of your dating life that both of you would never go a day without an I love you because tomorrow wasn’t confirmed, regardless of how bad the arguments would be. “And I’m sorry…”
You didn’t look at him when you pulled away to make your way to your car. You didn’t want to ignore the words, but you also didn’t want to say it back so you just mumbled the words back under your breath. Your little girl had her half body turned sideways jusy so she could kept on waving to her dad, unconcerned with the problems going on.
If it wasn’t for the constant tagging, you would have been left in the dark. Checking your social media had always been apart of your wind down activity but you weren’t expecting to have over 100+ notifications one night, people tagging you on a screenshot of news article about your husband exposed to be having a short “intimate break” with a new woman. The articles were supported heavily with a blurry picture of your husband and the woman walking out of the driver’s room after which was what they assumed as a quickie before the race in Hungary. People started making fun of your marriage, saying that you tricked Charles into one by getting pregnant on purpose or you got pregnant as soon after the wedding because you wanted to secure the bag and some of them even assume Charles was forced to stay in the marriage not because of love but because of the child and his image.
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Though you had been living separately for nearly a month, Charles would always came by. Sometimes it would a short 5 minutes where he just dropped by to give his little daughter a new toy or just a short cuddling session. You felt guilty of course, because your daughter had always been daddy’s girl but you couldn’t be in the same house with him without thinking about the pictures so you had to continuously tell her that Charles was busy with his fast car.
“Don’t go!” Your daughter cried out and tugged on her dad’s hand, dragging him back into the living room. “Dada can’t go!”
“I need to go, princess.” He drew his lips back, squatting down to level his face with hers. “We spent half a day together, didn’t we?” His arm was stretched out again as she kept on trying to pull him back.
“Can dada stay?”
He looked up and caught your eyes on him with your arms folded. “I’m not sure mommy wants that. Why don’t you go and ask mommy?”
“Can dada stay tonight, mommy? Please please!” She ran to hug your legs and pulled on your shirt to get your attention.
“Sleep on the couch. I’ll get a blanket for you.” You left those two together shrieking with laughters and came back with blanket to find both of them cuddling on the couch. “Are you gonna sleep with dada on the couch tonight?”
“Yes! Mommy too?” She scooted aside and pat on the empty space. “Mommy too!”
“Mommy will sleep in the room, okay?” You bended down to peck on her forehead and looked at Charles who has been staring at you. “Make sure she sleeps by 9.”
“Thank you.” He took your hand and you snatched it back before matching to your room.
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“Baby, what are you doing with my phone?”
You had just done putting on your skincare and walked out of the bathroom to see your little girl looking sullen as she was holding your phone. “No answer?” She raised the phone up as it shook a little from the unbalanced weight between the phone and her little grip.
“Answer? Who are you calling?”
“Y/N, is there–“
“Hi dada!”
“oh, hi, princess!”
You froze when you heard Charles’s voice. When did she even learn how to call someone or more specifically, her own dad.
“Dada! Hello!”
“Hi, I miss you so much.”
Your daughter squealed and clapped her hands, bringing the phone that was larger than her hand closer to her mouth. “Miss you too!”
“Where’s mommy? Is mommy okay?”
Your lips were pressed into a thin line. Sure, you can still acted all fine in front of your daughter but that doesn’t mean you could play pretend with your feelings. I miss you, Charles.
“Mommy is okay. Mommy was putting cream on face.”
“Oh, yeah? Mommy always takes a long time in front of the mirror, right princess?”
“Yeah, very long time! Mommy always goes dab dab.”
You heard him chuckle and continued the conversations until he had to end the call. “Princess, dada has to go. Listen to mommy and be a good girl. I’ll see you soon, okay?”
“Bye, dada! I love you.”
“Bye, princess. Tell mommy I said I love you.”
She stood up and ran to you, handing you back the phone with the brightest smile, which had everything to do with the little time with her dad.
“Dada said I love you mommy!”
“I love you too.” She giggled in your arms as you poked on her waist. “Who taught you how to call dada, hm?”
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You were sitting at the living room, leaving Charles and your daughter having their own time. Faint giggles and maffles could be heard filling the silence.
“Girl secured the bag but still got cheated on.”
“Proof that a child is not enough to make a man loyal. Good try, girl.”
Though it had been more than a month since what happened, your social media was still full of unpleasant comments. Your life had been in a downward spiral, even more when Ferrari’s official account had posted a few photos from the weekend and you saw the woman who was in the picture with Charles months ago in the background of the photos. The comments were quick to jump into their own assumptions and speculations, making you felt more oppressed within every minute you spent on your phone.
“Where’s she?” You asked when you saw Charles in the living room, no longer hearing her squeals and laughters. Your phone was no longer in your hand as you turned it off. Charles had took a seat on the couch, afar from you since you kept on shutting him out so he just knew you wouldn’t want him close to you this time as well.
“She’s asleep.” He grabbed your hand as you were walking trying to walk pass him to get yourself a drink. “Bab– Y/N, can we talk?”
“There’s nothing to talk about, Charles.”
“You can’t keep on doing this.” He was now standing only a step away. “I miss you. I don’t want to come home to an empty house. Please, tell me what you want me to do.” His fingers softly traced your cheek, making your heart beat faster, yearning for more of his touch. “I’ll fix the mess. I’ll speak up about this, let the news clear out my name, your name. I need you, Y/N, please.”
You wanted to give in. You were so close to give into his wishes, his plead but you couldn’t. Never once in your life would you imagine yourself to be in a situation where your husband got tangled up with another woman that people started making fun of your innocent child.
“You need to leave.” You paced back, feeling his touch leaving an imprint on your skin.
“Y/N,”
“Leave, please. I’m not doing this tonight.”
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The scream of your daughter took up the house as she saw Charles walked through the door. You had told Charles you wanted to do a small birthday for her and he had set everything up that you didn’t have to lift a finger. A day before a group of people came by to start putting on balloons and ribbons in your house. The food and drinks started ti arrive a few hours ago so you were only left with a few task when you had to dress her up and prepare a few starter and dessert. The guests were not a lot. You had invited your friends, their kids, family members and of course, Charles.
“Hey, princess! Happy birthday!”
Charles immediately picked her up and attacked her chubby cheeks with kisses, causing her to squirm while giggling. “You are so pretty, princess. Did you wear mommy’s lipstick?” He laughed and wiped the smudge at the ends of her lips.
“I stole mommy’s lipstick!”
“Knew it! You should have asked mommy to help put it on you. Where’s mommy?” She had ran to join her friends back to the small backyard garden, leaving Charles’s question left unanswered as he ambled to the kitchen to see you were preparing a cheese board for the guests.
“Do you need help?
“Oh, yeah. Can you help me open the pack of crackers and just plate it nicely on this serving board? You handed him the board to which he took it and started opening crackers that you had placed on the kitchen counter while you went back to cutting the cheese.
Both of you were doing things in silence so you didn’t bother to check up on him as you only asked his help for the simplest task ever. One that even your daughter could do.
You had realised it wasn’t as simple as you thought it was when you looked at the board which was supposed to be filled with crackers, were only filled with a few ones while the rest went into his mouth.
“Charles!” Charles’s hand stop moving as he looked at you. “I asked you to put them on the board, not eat them!”
“It’s addictive. Give it a try.” He offered you one and you took it, chuckling as you chew. “Right? I told you! It’s tasteless but it’s good. Do you want more?”
He moved closer to put the cracker to your mouth when you declined, making you laugh as you tried to move your face away. “It’s not that good. I don’t want it!”
He cackled along, arm finding its way on your waist as he pulled you close. “God, I missed you so much.”
“Hello?”
“Yeah–” The smile on your face ceased as your eyes landed on the owner of the voice, the same woman who was caught in a gossip with the guy standing in front of you. “Oh, hi.”
“Y/N, this is Leah. She’s–“ Charles tried to grab your arm as you tried to walk out of the kitchen. “Baby, wait–“
“I need to check on my daughter.”
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“Isn’t that the girl that was in the picture? Did you invite her?”
The drink in your hand tasted somewhat bitter. “No, she came with Charles.” You replied, eyes locked on your daughter as she played with her dad and Leah in the backyard.
“Is he trying to introduce you to his new girlfriend?”
“I don’t know.” You stretched out your arms as your little girl came running to you. “Did you have fun with dada?”
“Yes! Can mommy play too?” She jumped and tugged on your finger to get you off the couch. “Please please!”
“Alright, alright. I’m coming.” You patted her head, giving your friends a glance as you trailed after her to the backyard where Charles was on the grass, joining by your daughter after.
“Dada, let mommy be the tagged!”
“You asked me to join you only for you to gang up with dada? Come here!” You gasped dramatically and chased after her while she waddled to the end of the backyard. “Oh, tag.” Charles had just stood on his feet and stopped by your side as he saw you focusing on the little girl when you tapped on his arm.
“Oh, come on! Really? I thought you were chasing after her.” Charles groaned. He barely had a 5 minutes break and thought you were chasing after the little one instead of him, which was why he wasn’t running away.
“I can’t catch her!”
“Okay, then I’ll just tag you back.” He poked on your cheek, laughing when you clicked on your tongue, thing that you always do when you get annoyed.
“Charles, can I borrow you for a second?”
“Yeah, I’ll be right back.” He left your side when Leah called out for him, both of them seemed to be engrossed in a discussion. Leaving you alone while your daughter had found her way back into her group of friends. You saw your friends’ sympathetic eyes on you as they called you out to join them back.
You felt pathetic.
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For the rest of the birthday party, you tried to ignore Charles and his partner though you could feel his eyes on you the whole time. Every time you caught a glance of both of them, exchanging conversations and smiles while she kept on showing something on her phone, tears would welled up in your eyes and you couldn’t cry, not today. Today isn’t about you.
“Baby, can you please stop ignoring me?”
You bumped into Charles as you tried to head to to kitchen and he had gripped on your arm, forcing you to stay as you were trying to get away from Charles again when the front door opened as you saw a man with 2 kids around your daughter’s age walked in with a birthday present nicely wrapped in his hand.
“Happy birthday!” The kids shrieked and handed the birthday present to your daughter as they ran to join the kids outside.
“There you are! What took you so long?” Leah exclaimed as she pulled the man into a hug. “Y/N, this is my husband and my kids. I hope you don’t mind three extra guests?”
“No, not at all.” A soft smiled creeped in as a mask to hide your true feelings before you made your way into your room with Charles chasing after you.
You felt so dumb. First you had to see your husband’s new “girlfriend” then having to constantly see your husband played with your kid while his new girl a step away as she laughed and smiled along, one when your husband left your side in a blink the second Leah called out for him, only to find out that all of that was just an act and that she actually had a husband and kids. You felt your throat tighten up as you breathed in a short intake. “Did you try to make me look like a fool because you aced it.”
“No, that’s– no, not at all. Y/N–“
“I feel so woeful and pathetic. If this– if this is your payback because I took your daughter away, I’m sorry.” You sobbed into the palm of your hands.
“Baby, no. No, that– that’s not it. You got the wrong idea. I brought her along because I had a scheduled medical checkup and she had to tag along. I thought she could be the one to explain to you what actually happened since you refused to listen to my explanation.” Your trembling hand in now in his while he cupped his free hand on your left cheek, thumb wiped off the fresh tears that rolled down you cheeks. It had been a week since the last time he touched you, month since he hugged you and there was a hole in his heart from your absence. You didn’t reject him, not this time so he continued. “Yes, she was in the room with me but I was asleep and she was looking for my stuff. Something that she wanted to borrow. We didn’t cuddle or do anything at all. Not like how the news portrayed. She came in with Joris because he had the access to my room but they didn’t catch that moment so it just seemed like there was only both of us.”
Your tongue was tied, your head was in a shamble. You didn’t know know what to do, what to react, what to respond. If what he was saying was true, then why did he seemed so close with her. Why would he go to his daughter’s birthday party with her. Why would he left you just because she called out for him.
“You know how much I love you, Y/N. I would never do anything that would break your trust on me. I was asleep. I would have asked Joris to not allow her inside my room if I was awake. I didn’t know there were pictures taken.”
“I don’t know, Charles. I’m just– “ You tilted you head away as you felt your throat closing up. “Everything I saw earlier didn’t make it seemed as if nothing happened between you guys.”
“What did you see?” He leaned in, tugging on your hand in his just so you would look back at him. “Tell me, baby, what did you see?”
“You came to the birthday party with her looking like a happy couple as if you tried to shove that in my face.”
“We didn’t. We didn’t come together, Y/N. She drove her own car but we came from the same place, remember? Her husband wanted to buy a last minute birthday gift, just before they came here so she had to ask for my opinion since they didn’t know what they should give.” You felt his thumb kept on stroking the back of your hand, he wanted to pull you in his embrace but he couldn’t afford getting rejected again. He didn’t know if you wanted him to touch you but grateful enough that you didn’t retract your hand away so he wouldn’t ask for more if your weren’t comfortable just yet.
“I am such a fool…” Your voice trailed off with tears streaming down your face.
“No, you are not a fool. You needed reassurance which I failed to give.” Charles then surrendered to his own wish and eventually engulfed you in his arms. “Is this okay? Can I hug you?” He didn’t get your response but he felt your arms on his back, returning the hug.
“I’m sorry…” You tilted your head to look at him with swollen eyes.
“We are both at fault here.” He drew in his arms tighter around your frame. “Will you come back to me? Come back home?”
“Do you still want me back?”
“I will always want you back, baby. Always.” He pulled away and pecked on your cheek, chuckling when you started having hiccups from crying too much.
“Dada?”
He pulled away and turned to look at his little girl walked in with a lollipop in her hand. You stayed behind Charles so you could pat your eyes dry before she noticed.
“Is mommy okay?” She slanted her body to peek on you as Charles continued to cover you with his back.
“Mommy’s fine, princess. Mommy’s eyes just hurt a little.”
“Give mommy this!” She offered Charles her lollipop, making both of you laughed.
“Charles took the lollipop and extended it to you. “Would you like a lollipop, baby?”
✧.* general tag list! @i83andrew @cltrlne @karmabyfernando @ohthemisssery @ru-kru @tastebaldwin @f1obessed @love4lando @shinrjj
if your usernames were crossed meaning I can’t tag you 😭 let me know if you would like to be removed or added to the taglist! or if I missed anyone!
3K notes · View notes
sunrizef1 · 9 days
Text
What happens in Vegas pt 1.5
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader
Authors Note: had to write this twice because tumblr deleted it lol. Not sure how to tag this so I’m just tagging my general tags. Proofread but not well.
Warnings: Blood, cursing
Summary: When the drivers found Max cheating
Masterlist
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“Dannyyyyyy” your voice rings out through the noise of the crowded club, your words catching the attention of the Australian in question.
The Aussie turns his head, a grin on his face as he holds up a bottle of champagne he seemed to have convinced the bartender to hand over. You laugh at his state, drunkenness clear in the way he sways as he staggers over to you. You wrap an arm around his tall shoulder, leaning on him in order to sort out your own less-than-sober state.
Lights flash brightly around the two of you, fellow drivers and F1 employees spread throughout the club, not including anyone from Red Bull for some reason.
You couldn’t find it in yourself to care, vodka practically running through your veins as you celebrated your win. You had won your home race and you were surrounded by your friends. The absence of some people you didn’t really like didn’t bother you all too much.
“Have you seen Logan?” You look up toward the Aussie again, eyes darting quickly around the club for your friend. You had been with the blond practically the whole night but as soon as you had gone looking for Danny, he had disappeared from your side.
Luckily, you didn’t have to search for long as another arm comes and wraps around your shoulder suddenly. You turn your head to find Logan, a dopey smile on his face and, weirdly, sunglasses.
He had been drinking just as much as the rest of you had, even downing about half a bottle of vodka in under twenty minutes. Better than you would’ve done considering you thought vodka tasted like shit. Good for shots though.
You reach up and fix the glasses that had gone sideways on his face. His hand follows yours, still clutching a drink as he follows your lead in fixing the random glasses.
“Why’d you have glasses on?” You have to yell slightly as you say it, prompting Danny to glance over from where he’d been watching Lando convince the current DJ to let him have a go. You’d have to give it to him, the man’s pretty convincing when he’s drunk.
“Someone gave them to me, not sure when, don’t really care. They’re sick though, right?” Logan leans back slightly to give you both a full look at him and you laugh as he sways a bit. His blond hair is ruffled and he’s acquired someone’s paddock pass throughout the night, along with the glasses and he’s looking like he came straight from the race itself.
“Yeah! You look great, mate!” Danny’s laughing behind you and Logan grins while he leans back into the little huddle you’ve created, patting Danny on the back as he does.
“Where are we heading then, gang?” Logan slurs, downing the rest of his drink and slamming it down on a nearby table and then turning his entire form toward the two of you.
You walk forward a bit, dragging the two drivers with you, both of their arms falling off your shoulders, “I was gonna go back to my room but I can't find max.”
You had already been dealing with Max’s absence since, well, yesterday at that point and it definitely contributed to about 5 of the shots you had taken. By now it was about 1 am, you had been in the club for hours, you were hungry and drunk and just really wanted to go to bed. But you couldn't do that because you couldn't find max and something in your drunken mind said you had to find him before you could go to bed. Something about not going to bed angry after a fight.
A fight that, truly, you didn't really have a part in. It wasn't your fault that Max had lost. I mean, it technically was but you shouldn't have been expected to let him win. Red Bull had practically been asking you to lose to him all season and you win once and suddenly Max is yelling about how inconsiderate you are.
“Come on,” Danny starts to walk toward the exit, leading you and Logan behind him as he does. The three of you stagger through the crowd, many people stopping you go congratulate you and chat as you do. By the time you've reached the strip, you've completely forgotten about Max and instead, you're only thinking about the hunger in your stomach.
“Im starving,” you mumble as you lay your head on Logan who smiles down at you, once again wrapping his arm around your shoulder.
You pay no mind to the cameras flashing as the three of you walk out or the stares that come your way. You’re more concerned about where the nearest restaurant is.
Logan moves away from you to dig through his pocket and you take the opportunity to adjust your dress, the fabric suddenly too tight on your heated body. You also wish you could take off the shoes that were causing your feet to ache. Danny takes a swig from the bottle that he, surprisingly, had been allowed to take from the club. Hair sticks to your foreheads and clothes sit rumbled and wrong. The spitting image of three elite athletes.
Logan moves back toward you to hand you the phone he had just pulled from his pocket. You had honestly forgotten you had given it to him to hold considering your dress didn’t have pockets.
“Thank you,” you nod gratefully, unlocking it to an influx of messages from friends and family congratulating you on your win or sending pictures from the club.
You clutch the device tightly as you cross your arms in an attempt to shield yourself from the cold Vegas air.
When a particularly cold chill runs through your body, you’re suddenly moving down the sidewalk, heels clicking as you try not to sway. The boys behind you follow in suit, seemingly trusting the, for the purposes of this race, Vegas native.
“Where we going, then?” Logan asks, a yawn escaping him as he readjusts the sunglasses perched on his nose.
“There’s a shake shack at New York New York,” you follow suit in yawning, pointing slightly ahead at the Empire State shaped hotel in front of you.
Daniel hums, “I want a burger.”
You laugh slightly, leading both of them toward the restaurant.
You three get there pretty quickly, ordering random greasy food that your trainers would probably disapprove of. When you sit down, you pull out your phone and send a quick series of text to Max to ask where he was. He hadn’t been there the whole night and you had finally started to miss him. He reads the messages but doesn’t reply, leaving you with a sick feeling in your stomach.
You bite into a fry to try and cover the nausea, opening your text chain with Charles and texting him instead. He actually replies this time and soon enough, Charles is on his way to you three from wherever he had gone to sober up earlier in the night.
“Charles is on his way,” you say through another yawn, eating a fry.
Daniel scarfs down a few bites of his burger, swallowing a full gulps of his drink right after, “For what?”
“Gonna help me find Max probably. We’re all too drunk to do anything by ourselves anyway.”
“Not too drunk to order food by ourselves,” Logan says, probably louder than he needs to, leaning back in his chair, glasses still on and a drink in his mouth, “Let’s fucking goooooooo.”
He follows Daniel’s lead and starts to munch on his food quickly, food you’d paid for by the way, when you turned out to be the only one who could get their Apple Pay to work.
You take a couple more bites of your food while the boys scavenge their food as if they hadn’t eaten in years.
“Hey guys!” You look up to see a particularly sober Charles Leclerc strolling through the shake shack door. You perk up when you see him, a small smiling making it through the exhaustion you were feeling.
“Hey Cha,” you say, standing up to give him a small hug, staggering a bit on your heels as you do. He leans back as you release him and steadies you, holding something up to you as he does.
Your eyes widen as he holds up a pair of converse in your eyesight and you gasp happily, quickly sitting back down in your chair and starting to fumble with the clasps on your heels.
Your fingers shake with exhaustion and alcohol and the clasp escapes your hands more than a couple times.
“Here, let me do it,” Charles offers as he sets the shoes down on the ground next to you before kneeling in front of your chair and grasping your ankle lightly.
You don’t look across the table to see Daniel and Logan making kissy faces at each other as they both stuff their faces with greasy food and soda. But you can hear their mocking kiss noises and you roll your eyes as you finally look their way, glaring as you do. They both shut up and go back to the phones in their hands.
Charles makes quick work of the clasps on both shoes, sliding the heels off your feet and untying the converse before handing them to you. You slide the shoes on and stand up, wrapping up your excess shake shack as you do.
Logan makes a noise of protest as you move to throw the food away and you sigh before sliding it across the table back to him. He makes quick work of the food, with help from Daniel reaching over his shoulder to grab food in between Logan’s bites.
You and Charles wait quietly for the two of them to finish. You eventually open your mouth to ask him a question but he seems to beat you there.
“Do you know where Max is?” He says quietly, eyes staring kindly at your tired state.
“No, he hasn’t answered my texts,” you mumble sadly, head falling to rest against your hand on the table. Charles moves slightly closer to let you rest your head on his shoulder and your eyes start to flutter closed. You were just nodding off when a loud band comes from across you and your eyes open to see Logan slamming his empty drink on the table just before Daniel does as well.
They both move from the table quickly and you and Charles rush to follow them as they bound out of the restaurant in their drunken stupor.
“Let’s go find max!” Daniel yells out swinging an arm around the blond man’s shoulders.
“To finding max!” Logan responds swinging his own arm around Daniel.
You and Charles share a look at the two of them. You had been just as drunk as them but you seemed to be sobering up quicker than both of them.
You glance down to see your heels clutched in Charles hand and pull out your phone to take a picture while he’s busy looking over your shoulder at the two drunk formula one driver some yards away.
“Come back here, losers!” Charles called out to the two of them and they both turn back to you and stumble over, seemingly dancing to music that wasn’t playing.
“We’re going to Omnia,” Charles says to the three of you and that’s all the boys need to turn around and wander toward a building they don’t know the location of.
You roll your eyes at them but follow quickly after, trying to make sure they don't wander too far away. Charles is quick to walk beside you.
The walk isn't too far, your drunkenness slowly decreasing throughout the stroll. Luckily for you and Charles, by the time you all get to the club, Daniel and Logan have sobered enough to at least walk in a straight line.
Omnia is nestled inside of Caesars Palace so it wasn't hard to find but Daniel and Logan do both try and walk past the hotel. You and Charles have to call them back and drag them into the lobby of the hotel.
The four of you wander over to the club, glancing around but when your efforts seem fruitless, you decide to wander around the area instead of just looking at the club.
The four of you wander around aimlessly, looking for any signs of your boyfriend. You glance up to see Charles with his eyes set forward, still clutching your heels in his hands. Logan and Danny fall in line next to the two of you, seemingly sobered enough to be helpful now.
Eventually you round a corner and come face to face with a surprisingly empty area, not a soul in sight. The silence almost echoes off the vaulted ceiling, making the sound of your four sets of shoes seem almost loud in comparison.
You don’t see anything in the room and go to turn around when Logan catches your elbow, “Is that him?”
You turn back around to follow Logan’s point, eyes locking on a brunette man. Of course, Logan has just been extremely inebriated so his judgement probably wasn’t the best but you decide to listen to him anyway.
You move to take a step toward the man when he stumbles backward, letting you see that it is, in fact, your boyfriend. But what causes your eyebrows to furrow is the familiar girl hanging off of him, lips practically attacking his own.
You can’t move. Your eyes are locked on the couple and your feet are solidly rooted to the marble floor. You think you might be crying, you wouldn’t be able to tell. The only thing that pulls you out of it is the feeling of a pair of heels being shoved into your arms. You glance up just in time to see Charles reeling his fist back.
You don’t think you’ll ever forget the sound of a nose breaking under a fist. Of course, it’s quiet so that probably helped a lot.
They’re screaming at each other and your brain, once again, tunes it out. You stare blankly ahead, trying to make sense of whatever the fuck you just saw. You’re pretty sure Charles’ girlfriend flees. Probably for the best. Logan swings a tanned hand in front of your eyes and suddenly the volume in the room is back once again, the screaming slowly filtering into your head.
“What the fuck is your problem?” Charles yells, blood dripping down his arm as he shoves Max in the middle of his chest.
“What’s my problem!? What’s your problem!? You’re already fucking my girlfriend, I was just evening the score,” Max spits, blood splattering against Charles’ white shirt as he shoves the man’s wrist away.
“What are you talking about? I didn’t do shit, man!”
“You proved it by showing up with her,” Logan inches forward as Max’s eyes land on you for the first time that night, seemingly ready to defend your honor. Or whatever.
“Taking her to help her find her boyfriend who turned out to be cheating on her with my girlfriend. Yeah seems really romantic mate,” Charles rolls his eyes. You can tell from his stance he’s ready to throw another punch in a heartbeat.
“Fuck you, Charles.”
“Fuck you, Max.”
There it is, the second punch flies and the two start to brawl. Rich idiot brawling, of course, no real form or anything. You reckon Max could throw a pretty good punch if he was in a better state. In the moment you’re just glad he isn’t. For Charles’ sake.
You suddenly realize that the area might not have been as secluded as you had thought. When you glance up you’re met by the literal strip, bright lights streaming in from the outside. Even at the ripe hour of 3 am. People start to gather at the commotion. Usually you’d care a lot about this kind of stuff but your brain is unfortunately too preoccupied to care.
One of these people that takes it upon themselves to insert themselves in the fight is none other than Checo Perez. The man on the grid who you could stand the least. Or at least he used to have that title, that might belong to Max now.
Upon the sound of more yelling, you tune him out. Daniel’s the one who moves in his path, causing the man to turn the argument onto Daniel. 5 foot 10 Daniel who’s been itching to throw a punch since this fight started. Daniel who was, until quite recently, black out drunk. Daniel who you knew, deep down, didn’t want to punch Max so this was a perfect solution.
You don’t end up remembering how it happens, your brain fogged with alcohol and emotions but one second, Checo and Danny are arguing and the next second, Logan’s landed a punch.
Honestly, he has a killer right hook. Especially for a drunk man. This spurs another fight and you can’t do anything but stand still in the middle of it all, tear stains running down your cheeks and high-heels clutched tightly in your arms.
It feels like an eternity later, but what probably only 5 minutes, when a figure comes up behind you and wraps an arms around your shoulders. You glance up to see a wild Oscar, pulling you away from the scene. He drops your shoulder to move back and pull Logan out of the fight, now with a bloody nose and bruised knuckles. You’re not sure how much fighting he did and how much of it was just him hitting random surfaces. Again, drunk.
You turn toward Charles and see a now unoccupied Checo walking with an arm around Max’s shoulder and a now quite sober Lando pulling Charles the other way. Danny’s made his own way out of the area, quickly pulling you away with him. You don’t argue as he does, grateful for the escape. Sound comes back to you as you re-enter the casino floor, slot machines and black-jack spread out around you.
You realize how crazy you all probably look, all six of you covered in blood in some way. Whether it be your own or a friends. You all stagger out of the hotel quickly and at some point, you lose Charles and now it’s just you, Daniel and Logan, just like how you had started the night.
Once the air hits your face you realize the reality of everything that’s just happened. Your three year relationship was now over. Your teammate and boyfriend just cheated on you. This had to be some sort of HR violation.
For the first time since you entered the quiet area, you feel yourself cry. Tears run down your cheeks as sobs rack your body. Logan is quick to get you somewhere to sit down and he lays an arm around your shoulder comfortingly, not even thinking about the fact he’s now smearing even more blood on your clothes. You get distracted form your crying when you glance up and see the blood streaming from his nose. If you could help it, you’d get his name the farthest away from this. He didn’t need this right now.
For a moment you’re too worried about Logan’s future to cry but then you glance back down at the blood on your own hands and the waterworks start again. You, of course, hadn’t punched anyone but the blood was a reminder that somebody had because of you.
You eventually get the sobs to go away, standing up with a slight wobble, leaning on Daniel as he catches you.
You have no idea where the rest of your friend had gone or even where you were gonna sleep tonight. So you text the one person you had complete faith in during this situation.
“Can I stay with you?”
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thecreelhouse · 3 months
Text
it’s crazy what you’ll do for a friend
Paring: Steve Harrington x Reader (afab, one gendered term, but otherwise neutral)
WC: 4.5k
Summary: After a long, awful day, you can’t even relax when your go-to stress reliever falls apart, too. Steve, being the good friend he is, offers to help you out.
CW/Tags: hurt/comfort, language, masturbation, FWB, inexperienced reader, soft teasing, oral sex (f receiving)
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A/N: I left this open ended, so if you’d like another part please let me know! part two - it felt like love & drugs is up now! title is from daddy issues - the neighbourhood. hope y’all enjoy <3
⋆。˚ ☁︎。⋆˚ ☀︎ ˚。⋆
It’s raining. Of course it’s raining. How cliche it is for the sky to pour out on one of the roughest days you had in awhile.
Just your luck, you left your umbrella at home. Your car’s in the shop, you missed the bus, leaving you to pull your jacket over your head awkwardly as you try making it home as quickly as possible.
But why would that work out? Nothing else has worked out in your favor today, why not add some more misery as a truck speeds by into a puddle, sending a wave of filthy water splashing onto you. If you weren’t drenched from the rain yet, you’re certainly a drowned rat now.
Somehow, you manage to keep composure and suppress your frustrated yelling; stomping on through the rain, which is now raining sideways— Are you fucking kidding me? — you count the blocks ahead until you’re back home. Two. Just two more blocks. Sure, they’re city blocks, so they stretch farther than the ones you grew up with in your childhood neighborhood, but you got this.
Thankfully, your bad luck decided to give you a breather, allowing you to make the rest of the trip home on foot without further frustration.
Walking down the quiet hallway of your apartment complex, you can feel and hear the squish of water in your shoes as you make your way to your front door. You can’t be bothered to care about the amount of rainwater you must be trudging in.
You’re crossing your fingers in hopes that no one's home, so you can cry and scream in peace; as you unlock the door, your wish is immediately denied.
“God dammit,” You murmur under your breath, stare narrowing at the lights on throughout the apartment. Sounds echo out from the TV, and you hope they’re loud enough to cover the door closing. You kick your shoes off, sighing in relief the overwhelming, squishy sensation on your feet is gone. You begin to shuffle down the hallway to your room, but, of course, you’re spotted.
“Hey! How was your— oh.” Steve’s peering over the couch, smile dropping like a ton of bricks when he sees how miserable you look. “What the hell happened?” He pushes himself over the back of the couch, hurrying over to you, and you throw your hand up in a stop gesture.
“Don’t even come near me, I’m straight up bad luck today.” You grumble, hoping if you joke about it you’ll feel better, but tears of anger just build up instead. “Also, I’m covered in water from god knows where, so you really do not want to be near me right now.”
Steve cautiously comes closer anyway, arms’ length, but still too close for your liking right now, so you step back. He wants to ask if you’re okay, but he knows the answer to that.
 Then he realizes you walked home. “Why didn’t you call me? I could’ve picked you up.” And honestly, you wish you thought to call him. You were just so overwhelmed with how badly today was spiraling, the last thing on your mind was reaching out to your roommate for a ride.
Too exhausted to explain that, you give a weak shrug. “I need to be alone for a bit, okay?”
Steve’s features twist into concern, wanting to help however he can, but he holds himself back; the best way to help is to give you space right now. With a nod and a sigh, he reminds you, “Just, uh, lemme know if you need something.”
You start making your way to your room again, murmuring “Thanks, Steve.” While your mind was elsewhere, you miss the way Steve watches as you head in your room and slam your door, causing him to wince.
⋆。˚ ☁︎。⋆˚ ☀︎ ˚。⋆
An hour or so after you got home, you lay on your bed in your robe, not bothering to change into pajamas after showering just yet; you were just content you’d be relaxing the rest of the night.
And what better way to relax than getting yourself off after such a terrible day?
Opening the drawer of your nightstand, you grab your vibrator, focusing on the sounds outside your door. Whatever movie Steve had on seemed loud enough that you could hear the dialogue float down the hall. It was also loud enough where you could get away with breathy moans and small whimpers, so that was good enough for you to continue.
With a flick of a switch, your wand- a much cheaper, smaller version of the original- buzzes to life. Eagerly, you untie your robe and let it fall open, teasing along down your body with the vibrator before reaching where you needed it most.
Instantly, your hips bucked as the wand brushes up ever so slightly against your clit, jaw falling as your eyes flutter shut; the pent up tension from the day already begins to leave your body as pleasure consumes your thoughts.
“Oh, fuck,” You murmur, hushed enough that Steve can’t hear you in the other room. With one hand, you toy and tease your core as slick coats your folds, while the other comes back to your chest, pinching and pulling lightly at your nipple.
Effortlessly, your mind wanders to Steve touching you; this is normal lately, but you don’t have feelings for him. Not really. If anything, you just think he’s attractive, but you wouldn’t want anything with commitments. That’s assuming he feels the same way, which you’re certain he doesn’t, and that’s totally cool.
Who doesn’t think about their roommates when they touch themselves, anyway? 
In your mind, Steve’s hands are where yours are, nothing wild, just imagining how caring and gentle his touch would be. You’ve also thought before about how rough he could be, too. Nothing wrong with fantasizing about either, right?
Sometimes when you come close to finishing quickly, you edge or overstimulate yourself. You could feel the high within reach, toes curling as your back arches as you imagine him praising you with a typical “good girl”, encouraging you to keep going, to keep the toy against you after you cum. Brows knitting together, your mouth falls into an ‘o’ shape, breaths shallow while you’re needy for release.
You’re right there, just on the edge— The wand buzzes to a halt without warning. Your eyes fly open, pulling the toy back to your view as your chest heaves, orgasm fading away. Desperate, you flick the switch a few times, hoping it’d turn on again, but nothing happens.
 “No, no, no,” You can feel the tension build up again, rageful tears ready to burst in record time. Normally, you’d just be annoyed by your vibrator dying just before you climax, but after today, this is the final straw. As you dump the batteries out, you wonder when the last time you changed them was. You can’t remember. Figures.
Batteries. We have some in the junk drawer of the kitchen. You’re quick to tie your robe closed before darting down the hall. The movie’s still playing as you pass the living room, but Steve’s in the kitchen. Oh, come the fuck on.
Ignoring him as he searches the fridge for a snack, you round the island counter, making a beeline for the junk drawer. Yanking it open, Steve spins around, looking perplexed. 
 “What’s up?”
“Not now, Steve.” You feel bad, but you’re desperate to get off. You were so fucking close, and that high is long gone now, but you just need to quiet your mind before the stress gets to you again. You’re tearing the drawer apart, pulling out old pens and half used notepads, rubber bands, a broken bottle opener- seriously? - spare string light bulbs, bookmarks, a pack of candy corn— who the fuck put this here? Ew.
Focused, you don’t notice Steve slide next to you, leaning against the counter. “What are you looking for?”
“Batteries. We had some, didn’t we? I swear we still had some left from that old pack.” You’re frantic, voice picking up speed and pitch the longer you fight off the tears. “We usually keep ‘em in this drawer right?”
 “Oh, I used the last few for my Walkman, I’m sorry. I’ll grab some more tomorrow—”
That shouldn’t be a big deal, but right now it’s the biggest deal in the world. “You what?”
“… I… used them?” Steve’s slightly afraid to answer, but still completely confused as to why you’re so wound up. His eyes flicker down to your fists, fingernails digging into your palms as they ball up, trying to keep your anger at bay. “Bu- but I can go get more! I’ll go right now.” He’s rushing for his raincoat and shoes, but guilt floods through you.
“Steve, don’t do that, it’s still pouring out.” You sigh, fists loosening up before you tug your robe closed tighter. “You don’t have to, I can— fuck. I can go tonight, it’s not a big deal.” The thought of getting dressed again and braving the storm makes you wonder just how desperate you are to get off. How pathetic.
Steve pauses in the doorway, hanging his coat back up. “It seems like a pretty big deal to you. What’s going on?” He makes his way back to you, and you’re pouting, arms crossed while you look away, hoping he doesn’t notice the way you’ve been trying so damn hard to keep the dam of tears from breaking.
“It’s— god, it’s so fucking stupid. I’m just overwhelmed by how terrible today was. Like, every fucking thing had to go wrong, and this is so dumb, who gets upset over batteries?! Jesus Christ, what the hell is wrong with me?” You don’t mean to start rambling, but once it starts, you can’t stop it. “Work was a nightmare, my car’s still getting worked on, this rain is horrible and my umbrella was here. Being soaked in street water has me grossed out still, and now that I’m home, I can’t even relax, all because of… batteries? Oh my god.”
Saying it all out loud helps a little, but it also makes you realize how deep today got under your skin. You leave out the part about not being able to cum, but that’s not something you want to admit to.
“That… sounds really overwhelming.” Steve gives empathy, but he’s not sure what else to say beyond that. So, he asks, “Are you sure you don’t want me to run out and get batteries?”
“Uh, no it’s totally fine, Steve. That’s sweet of you, but I’ll be okay.”
“Let me know if you change your mind, okay?” He leaves the offer open, and curiosity gets the best of him. “What did you need them for anyway?”
Your eyes widen, not expecting him to ask. “It’s silly,” trying to shrug it off, Steve, meaning well, persists.
“Hey, whatever it was, it’s okay to be upset about. You had a rough day. M’sorry I used the last few batteries.”
“Steve, it’s okay, really. I’m sorry I got upset, it’s not even the batteries, it’s— it’s nothing some sleep can’t fix.” Shaking your head, you brush it off, embarrassed you let something so meaningless work you up.
“I’m sure there’s something around here we can swap the batteries out so you can use them now, and we can replace them tomorrow.” He starts looking around the kitchen for something battery powered to steal the source form. “What kind were th— ”
He’s too sweet, he won’t let this go unless I tell him.
“Steve, don’t.”
“But if it helps you feel better— ” 
“Steve, stop. Please.”
 “Why?”
It comes out in an unintended outburst, “Because it was for my vibrator! Happy?” Your eyes finally meet his, and the heat rising to your face feels unbearable alongside the embarrassment. “I was— I wanted to blow off some steam, okay? It died while I was… y’know…And I can get myself off with my hand sometimes, but it’s not the same as toys or someone else’s actions. So… yeah.”
A rosy blush creeps along Steve’s face, enough to reach the tips of his ears; you know this never happens unless he’s embarrassed, or caught off guard, and right now, it’s both.
 “Oh. I- shit, I’m sorry for- you didn’t have to tell me.”
“You and I both know you’d still be looking for damn batteries if I didn’t say something.” You murmur, looking at the floor as you lean against the counter. “I appreciate that you care, Steve, but this isn’t something you can really help with. Unless you’ve got a vibrator of your own you don’t mind sharing.” The last part’s a joke, but Steve clears his throat, looking away.
An awkward silence falls between the two of you, one that’s quiet enough that you can hear the buzzing of the lights overhead, and the whirr of the VCR rewinding whatever tape he had in, finally at its end.
 “I… don’t, but I could still help… if you want.” Steve’s rubbing the back of his neck nervously. You think you misheard him, so you keep quiet, and he takes that as rejection. “But- okay, that was really dumb of me to offer. We can just forget about what I said.”
Glancing at him from where he stands, across from you, leaning against the island counter, he finally looks your way, afraid to say the wrong thing. You tilt your head, daring to ask, “You mean it?”
“Wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it.” Steve chews on his bottom lip anxiously. 
Your mind goes blank, thinking about his hands on you the way you fantasize, answering with a raspy, pathetic, “Please?” Pushing off the counter, you start to close the gap between the two of you, but Steve meets you halfway, backing you up into your original spot.
“What… What’s off limits?” He has to slow his breathing intentionally, already getting turned on. He’s always wondered what you sound like when someone else plays with you, and he can’t believe he’s about to find out. 
“Nothin’.” You answer casually, and Steve opens his mouth to say something, but only silence comes out. You smirk, “What’d you think I was gonna say?”
He shrugs, “Thought you didn’t have much experience, that's all.”
“I mean… I don’t. Not really. I get too nervous to let most guys near me, you know that. The rest’s all my imagination, unfortunately.” You admit bashfully.
Steve’s hands grab your hips, nudging you onto the counter. “You’re not nervous with me, are you? Be honest.”
 “I- I mean kinda… but not in that way!” You’re rushing to clarify, hands up and waving away any doubt. “I’m just a little nervous, ‘cause you’re my friend. And my roommate. Oh my god, is this gonna make things weird?”
Steve chuckles while shaking his head, “Won’t be weird to me. Friends can fuck around too, y’know.” His voice drops low, hands on your thighs. You push yourself against the cabinets as he parts your legs, stepping between them. He looks down, noticing your exposed skin high on your thigh where your robe falls open. “If it’ll be weird to you, though, we can stop.”
Eyes wide, you shake your head furiously. “Not weird. Absolutely not… maybe a little. But not weird in a bad way.” Steve laughs, one hand sliding higher up your thigh, pushing the material away, exposing your skin.
Tugging the plushy material’s edge, barely covering your bottom half at this point, he asks, ”You’re not wearing anything under this, are you?” 
“No… I was kinda worried about something else other than clothes.” You playfully roll your eyes, and Steve pinches your thigh.
“Smartass.”
“You asked, Stevie.”
Traveling higher, his hand gently holds the side of your face, thumb sweeping along your cheek gently. “You tell me if you don’t like something, or if you want to stop. Got it?”
“Mhm, I got it,” Your voice is small, but clear while you watch Steve’s gaze flicker to your lips, then back to your eyes.
“Can I kiss you?”
You answer by closing the gap, kissing Steve softly, lips working in tandem with a slow pace. It’s sweet, even when he parts your lips with his tongue; slow kisses like these always make you squirm, enjoying them but greedy for more.
When Steve pulls back, there’s a thin thread of spit connecting his lips to yours, breaking once he smirks. He kisses along your jawline, down your neck, taking his time between sucking softly and kissing slowly, almost too slow for your liking. His hands fly to your thighs, holding them in place from squirming.
Pulling back to look at you, he asks, “Do you get like this when you touch yourself?” You shake your in response.
“Well, no, this is different than just thinking about you—” You clamp your mouth shut, pursing your lips as your eyes widen. Steve’s smirk breaks into a cocky grin.
“You’re thinking of me while you get off?” His words are laced with a hint of an unnecessary ego boost. “That’s cute.”
“Sh- shut up,” Your breath shudders as he’s back onto your skin, sucking and kissing along your collarbone while slipping the robe off of your shoulders. The cool air along your exposed chest hardens your nipples, and Steve immediately leans down to latch onto the pebbled flesh; his tongue swirls around the sensitive bud, earning the tiniest squeak of a moan.
 “Tell me what you think about when you touch yourself,” Steve murmurs against the swell of your breast, kissing lazily across your chest to switch sides, repeating his motions. 
“Um… oh,” You’re arching your back, pushing your chest into Steve’s face. He keeps a pattern of sucking, biting, licking, and it makes you dizzy. His arm snakes around your side to your back, holding you steady. “I told you wh- what I think about.”
“No, tell me what you think about me doing to you,” Steve clarifies, fingers toying with the nipple he’s not kissing, pinching and rubbing soft, slow circles. A whine leaves your lips, hands tangling into his hair. “Jesus, you’re all hot and bothered just from this?”
“Uh-huh,” You rasp, unaware of how your hips roll forward, the ache between your legs only growing. “And I, um, I dunno.”
“Yes you do, don’t be shy,” Steve’s back to eye level with you, noses touching ever so slightly. Huskily, he asks, “What makes you cum when you think about us?” His hands are agonizingly slow as he starts opening the remainder of your robe, eyes meeting yours to make sure you’re still okay with this. You give a nod as your breath hitches, core clenching around nothing as you hear him whisper “Fuck.” under his breath, eyes taking in every inch of you.
“What?” You’re not self conscious, but you’re very aware this is the first time he’s seeing you completely exposed. Something about that forces your arms to cross over your chest as your legs close, but his firm grip is back on your thighs, pushing them apart. 
“You’re so fucking pretty.” Steve’s words grow muffled as he kisses you, again, refusing to rush things, but you can tell he’s a little needier than the first kiss. You whimper into his mouth, hips grinding yourself against nothing, desperate for friction. He pulls back to watch you writhe, smirking. “C’mon, tell me, babe. Nothing’s gonna happen if you keep those dirty thoughts to yourself.”
Fuck it.
 “I th- think about you teasing me slowly, like you’re doing now, making me wet a- and fucked out before you even really touch me.”
Steve’s biting back a groan while hands travel along your sides, fingertips grazing your skin softly as he reaches your hips, digging his fingers into the plush of your curves. “What else?”
“I like thinking about how, um,” You’re caught off guard by his hands moving closer to your cunt, resting on your thighs as his thumbs rubbing circles into them. He’s dragging it out, enjoying the way your breath shudders and you squeeze your eyes shut to focus. “How good your fingers would feel on me, in me, and how you- you’re— ” you stop yourself, feeling overwhelmed.
 “I’m… what?” Steve’s fingers again inch closer to your heat, causing an airy whimper to escape you. 
You rush it out, hoping it’ll dull embarrassment for you, “I think a lot about how you’d look between my legs.” Looking away from him makes it a tad easier to continue. “Thinking ‘bout how good your mouth would feel on me, but it’s hard to think about sometimes, ‘cause it’s not like I- I’ve got anything to base it on.”
Steve freezes, “Has no one gone down on you before?” You’re looking anywhere but at him, until he grabs your chin, gently pulling your attention his way. “Is that what you’re saying?”
 “Like, I bet it feels good, but yeah, no one’s done it before.” You’re reluctantly admitting, biting your lip anxiously. Steve presses his thumb on your bottom lip, softly pulling it from between your teeth.
 “Can I change that for you?”
 “Oh… I�� you want to?”
 “Wouldn’t be asking if I didn’t want to,” He reminds you. “No pressure, though.”
Enthusiastically, you nod, starting to push off the counter, but Steve again holds you in place. “Shouldn’t we do this somewhere else?”
As Steve drops to his knees, he hooks his arms under your legs, tugging you closer to the edge. He chuckles at your question. “We can do this anywhere you want.” He’s at the perfect level to reach you from here, licking his lips at the sight of your glistening cunt already.
 “Yeah, but like, people eat here.”
 “What do you think I’m doing?” He’s kissing up your leg, laughing against your skin as you roll your eyes.
 “Steve, that was the corniest thing you— oh, fuck.” He presses the softest kiss to your folds, glancing up to make sure you’re okay. From that small action alone, you shiver. He throws one of your legs over his shoulder before licking a slow, broad stripe up your cunt. You moan loudly, throwing your head back at the new sensation, but you slam your head into the cabinet. “Ow!”
Steve can’t help laughing against your skin; one hand of yours cards through his hair, tugging, while the other holds the back of your head. “Stop laughing— f- fuck.” 
“You good? Should we stop?” He asks, leaning away from your core as he glances up at you, making sure you’re alright.
“No, don’t, please don’t,” You babble, pushing him by the back of his head to come closer. Steve takes the hint, picking up where he left off. His tongue swirls and flicks at your clit, making your legs twitch. Once he starts sucking on it, your eyes roll back and you keen while your leg over his shoulder hooks him as close as possible to you.
“Someone’s greedy,” He teases before he buries himself back into you, sucking your clit again before tongue fucking you, making a mess from your arousal and his spit, pooling onto the counter beneath you. Steve slips a finger into you, curling it just right. You buck against him, and you swear he murmurs something like, “Taking me so well, honey.”
 “Steve, I- I don’t wanna cum yet, m’so close.” You plead, and that’s something he hasn’t heard before. He’s used to his partner begging to cum, but this is new.
 “Why not?”
 “I don’t want it to be over so soon,” You whine, grinding against his face and fingers. Steve hums into you, vibrations sending you closer to the edge. “But it feels s- so good.”
Speaking before he can think, Steve is quick to assure you, “This can happen again, y’know.” He’s sucking your clit, rougher this time, and you can’t see much past the tears building in your eyes from how intense the pleasure is. 
“Will it?” You’re panting, legs tensing up around Steve’s head. He slips another finger into you. “Fuck!”
“As long as you’re ‘kay with it,'' an obscene slurp follows his response. “Christ, you taste so good.”
“Uh- huh— ” A strangled moan leaves your lips, fingers curling around his locks before pulling roughly, while Steve doesn’t let up on his ministrations. Something within you snaps, and you’re gone.
You fight the urge to roll your eyes back, keeping your gaze on Steve who returns his to you, while somewhere between a sigh and a whiny moan, you’re crying out for him as heat floods your entire being. “Steve! Fuck!” He doesn’t stop until you physically begin pushing yourself away from him, overstimulated.
“So good, baby. M’so proud of you.” He murmurs into your thigh before standing back up. He leans in towards you, both hands cradling your face, but he stops. “You okay if I kiss you again?” You’re unsure if he asks because he’s worried to overstep a boundary or because his lips are soaked with your release. Either way you nod, tugging him closer by his shirt as you ball the fabric up in your fist. 
The two of you are noisy as you whimper into him, and he grunts when your tongue slips past his lips, tasting yourself in the process. You can only kiss him for so long before you need to pull back to catch your breath as you come down. Your eyes are heavy with the blissful exhaustion only found after an orgasm, while the dopiest smile graces your features. Steve can’t help smiling, too, resting his forehead against yours.
 “Please tell me that was better than the vibrator,” He’s joking, but secretly hoping it was better than the bliss a toy could give you.
 “Uh-huh.” You shudder out as your legs twitch, laughing at the sudden movement. It’s meant to be a joke, but Steve can’t help the way his cock twitches when you say, “You wanna be my new toy? I’ll throw that thing out so fast.” Eyes flicking down to his bulge, you notice the dark spot on his grey sweats, swallowing a moan. “You, uh, you want me to— ”
“Huh? Oh,” Steve looks down, blushing at his mess. “Nah, kinda too late to worry about it now.” He laughs it off but as he locks eyes with you again, he follows it up with, “… Unless that’s an offer for another time.”
This entire time, you’ve been shoving your feelings aside, the ones you thought were just based on superficial attraction, but his comment makes your stomach flip. “Yeah… yeah it is,” You try playing it off cool. “Hey, Stevie?”
Steve’s already grabbing a hand towel to clean you up with, touch gentle and slow. “What’s up, babe?” The pet name gives you butterflies.
“Thank you,” it feels silly to thank him for such a lewd act, but your mind is completely over how your day fell apart. “That… that felt really fucking good.”
Steve smiles warmly at you, pressing a quick kiss to the top of your head. Awkwardly, he responds with, “What are friends for?” You push aside how the comment stings your heart a little. Just friends. That’s it, and that’s okay.
… it is okay, right?
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thefreakandthehair · 4 months
Text
(don't bother) calling me when you're sober | rating: m | wc: 1.5k
content warnings: future fic, parental alcoholism ("falling off the wagon"), past parental neglect, minor character death (i've committed wayne crimes i'm so sorry but it's not shown, just mentioned), emotional hurt/comfort, ends on a happy, hopeful note despite the tags
“My dad called.” 
Eddie walks into the room, pinched eyebrows and flared nostrils lit up by the multicolored Christmas lights they string on the tree every year, one hand balled into a fist. The reaction  wouldn’t surprise Steve so much if this happened years ago, when Al Munson was still living in the bottom of a bottle of Jack, but now? 
It’s been eighteen years since he’d gotten sober, nineteen years since his last stint at Hawkins County, and fifteen years since making a genuine attempt to right the wrongs of Eddie’s childhood and build a relationship with his son. 
Fifteen years after Eddie let him in, let him try, let him earn Eddie’s trust. 
Fifteen years is a long time and to see Eddie so vitriolic in the doorway of their apartment’s living room— hands shaking, body shaking— Steve knows something must’ve gone wrong. 
“What happened?” Steve asks, standing from the couch and meeting Eddie where he stands, holding the hand not curled tightly around itself. 
“He’s drunk. He called, and he was drunk.” 
Steve’s chest pulls tight, his heart racing. What does someone say to that? What can someone say to assuage that kind of deep anger, pain, and betrayal? His thoughts are scattered as they try to make sense of what Eddie just said, and he’s even more grateful now that Ronnie wanted a sleepover with Aunt Robin tonight. 
“Eddie, fuck. I’m so— ” Before he can finish his thought, Eddie leans back against the doorframe, ripping his hand out of Steve’s and tangling his fingers in his hair, tugging. 
“How could he? How fucking could he?!” Eddie bellows, eyes squeezed shut. “He knew! He knew that if he ever did this again, I’d be done. For good. For forever. And he did it anyways! After eighteen fucking years!” 
His eyes fly open and Steve stands still and nods him on. There are just no words to fix this, and trying for the sake of filling the silence has never served him well.
“He did it anyway! Two days before fucking Christmas, a week before the anniversary of—” He chokes and cuts himself off. 
He knows what Eddie was going to say. A week before the anniversary of Wayne’s death. It’s been on his mind, too, of course. On his mind and in their conversations over breakfast with eccentric mugs of coffee, over the tangled lights that Wayne could always figure out. The year hasn’t been the kindest to them, particularly Eddie, and Steve wants to protect Eddie as much as he can from whatever he can. 
But he can’t shield him from this. Al Munson skips to the top of his shitlist.
“That son of a bitch!” Eddie rams his fist sideways against the door jam, leaving a sharp, red mark along his pinky. “He promised, and I believed him. Why the fuck did I believe him, Steve?”
Steve takes a step closer and grabs both of Eddie’s hands, carefully soothing the angry mark. “It’s been almost twenty years, babe. Trusting him with so much time invested makes sense. Hell, I did, too.” 
“I’m— I’m in my 30s, hurt and angry about the same shit I was hurt and angry about as a fucking kid. All the nights I slept in the backseat of the car because he blew his money at the bar, all the car accidents and court appearances and jail time, all the mornings I missed school because he didn’t know what fucking day it was,” Eddie rants, stopping to take a breath before picking back up, Steve’s own heart cracking and raging the more he speaks. 
“And every time he’d get sober, he’d always promise. He’d promise it would be the last time, and it never was. Not once could he choose his fucking son and I didn’t understand it then, but now that we have Ronnie, I understand it even less. If I was sick enough to walk away from her, I’d walk my happy ass to the nearest fucking rehab. I get that it’s a disease, I get it, I get it, I get it. But I can’t— I can’t do it again. Not this time. Eighteen years just down the fucking drain because of his company’s holiday party? How can I ever believe him again? Or trust him again?” 
Eddie’s voice grows raspier, breath shallow and quick, eyes watery. “Every time this happened when I was a kid, I always had Wayne. He’s the only person who really got it, y’know? The only one who lived it with me and now, I don’t even have him. My dad’s drunk, slurring his way through who fucking knows what on the phone, and no one else can fully understand the magnitude of what that feels like for me.” 
He squeezes his eyes shut again and drops forward toward Steve, forehead on his shoulder and arms loosely hung around Steve’s waist. Steve still doesn’t have words that bandage this up, but he knows how to show his husband love in other ways. Ways that, over the years, have become a language all their own. Steve pulls him in tight, one hand near his waist, the other cradling the back of his head. Fingers slide carefully beneath the hem of Eddie’s tee-shirt and rub little, repetitive circles into the small of Eddie’s back while he cards his other hand through Eddie’s hair, scratching his scalp and holding him to his chest to feel the rhythm of Steve’s own heartbeat until his breath returns to a steady pace. 
It’s only then that Steve speaks. 
“I don’t know what to say, Ed. It’s fucked up, and if you want to me like, hit him with my car, you know I’m game.” Steve feels Eddie laugh— just a few puffs of air through his nose but it’s a laugh all the same. “But I’m here, and we’re gonna figure it out, okay? Whatever you decide to do, we’ll do it together.”
Eddie nods and lets himself be led to the couch, Steve tucking Eddie into his side and pulling the afghan up over them. 
“I never want to be what Al was to me to our daughter,” Eddie whispers, not looking away from the tree. 
“Well, you’re ahead of the game, because she’s already older than you were when he started hitting the bottle hard. And I know there’s the genetic piece to it that everyone talks about, but nurture counts for a lot of who we become, too. Shit, I owe Joyce Byers a huge thank you for being more of a parent to me than my own were because she’s probably the reason I didn’t turn out like Dick Harrington. Ronnie’s never going to have an Al Munson in her life, because you weren’t raised by Al Munson. That’s not whose legacy you’re passing down. You’re passing down love, not pain.” Steve presses a soft kiss to Eddie’s temple and feels his whole body sag into him. 
“Yeah. Yeah, I guess you’re right.” Eddie’s voice is quiet now, a far cry from his earlier venomous edge. 
Silence nestles onto the couch with them, a comfortable addition, as they watch the basketball game Steve had on before Eddie told him about the phone call. Watch is a loose description, actually. They're more just looking at a moving, flashing screen. 
“My hand really hurts, by the way,” Eddie announces, holding up the hand he’d used to punch the doorjam. “That was fucking dumb.”
“Maybe a little bit, but I get it,” Steve untucks a hand from beneath the blanket and outstretches his palm. “Lemme see?”
Eddie plops his hand into Steve’s and Steve takes a look, mentally working down the check list he’s memorized from his decade plus of EMT work. No obvious breaks, nothing looks crooked, Eddie’s able to move each finger and flex his hand without severe pain. 
“If anything, it’s just gonna be bruised tomorrow. But I’ll fix it,” Steve grins and lifts Eddie’s fist to his lips, carefully kissing each knuckle and paying a little extra attention to the pinky that delivered most of the blow. 
“I’m so in love with you, Steve.” Eddie rests his temple on Steve’s shoulder. “You know that, right?” 
“I know,” Steve agrees, chest fluttering despite the circumstances. “And I’m in love with you, too. You know that, right?”
Eddie snuggles in and wraps Steve up, full koala, as though he’s trying to get as close as possible without actually cracking Steve open and climbing inside of him. 
“Definitely.”
The next morning, Aunt Robin brings Ronnie home and together, they decorate the gingerbread cookies that only vaguely look like people but are good enough to pass for a seven year old. Halfway through, Eddie’s cell phone rings and the caller I.D. reads Al. Steve watches, worried that Eddie’s going to answer in the middle of their decorating. That he’ll forget Ronnie’s having the time of her life, and that in his righteous indignation, Eddie will leave the table to go fight and argue.
There’s so much to be said, and Steve wouldn’t blame him, but he breathes a sigh of relief when Eddie simply declines the call and sets about pouring more edible glitter onto his design with a smile down at their daughter. 
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marvelsswansong · 2 years
Text
gold rush
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summary: Eddie's known you his whole life. He's your best friend. In truth, he wants to be your boyfriend - he wants to call you his without it being a joke and to kiss you when you're sober. But everyone loves you and wants you: he doesn't like a gold rush.
tags: Eddie x gn!reader (everyone can read!!!), childbood best friends to lovers, slow burn, pining!Eddie, 18+ reader (impli. in twenties), smidge off canon, fluff, minor angst, happy ending, oneshot
☆ word count: 16.3K+ ☆
⚠️ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐈 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐞.⚠️
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There's smudges of buttercream frosting by the corners of your lips.
But you're too busy to notice the mess on your face when you're racing Robin to the end of the block, both of you stumbling around like a couple of drunkards, hysterical giggles filling the air after having spun around in circles twenty times. It takes a full thirty seconds before you shove her away and begin to make a run for the end of the block, your sprint only further fuelled by the excited screaming from the kids.
It's your birthday.
You'd insisted - no, pleaded, really - to everyone that there's no need for a celebration. Eddie still remembers the sour expression your face twisted into when Joyce gently suggested throwing you a birthday party to celebrate, and the way you'd then firmly assured her and Hopper that it was enough that they'd even remembered that it was your birthday in a week.
"It's seriously nothing, Joyce." you'd emphasized, setting down your fork with a shy smile. The older woman only huffed at that, wholly unconvinced.
"Your birthday is not nothing, (Y/n), it's a special day that only occurs once a year. We should celebrate! And don't worry, we can organize it all here." Joyce had firmly insisted, casting a sideway glance to Hopper for support. He simply nodded in silence from next to her, right leg idly bouncing up and down as he took another sip of his beer.
Noticing that your hesitant expression wasn't fading, Eddie made it a point to knock his knees with yours to grab your attention, soothing your anxieties by squeezing your hands under the table.
"Come on, sunshine. When's the last time you had a proper birthday in Hawkins since you started university? Besides, we could invite all the kids and our mutual friends... everyone under one roof for the day?"
With all of them gazing at you intently - Hopper raising his eyebrows in a "come on, just say yes" manner, an eager glint in Joyce's warm eyes, and a reassuring grin on Eddie's lips - you had relented, sighing deeply but the shadow of a smile on your face giving your true feelings away.
"Alright. Yeah, Joyce, that'd be great."
In the present, Eddie's quiet thoughts are disrupted by Steve sitting down next to him on the wooden bench, a half empty beer bottle in his hands.
"I've never seen Joyce work so hard on a birthday party before. Not even for Jonathan's - though don't tell him I said that." Steve jokes, chuckling lowly under his breath. Eddie has to agree with his friend that the woman has gone above and beyond.
Hopper and Jonathan are by the barbeque grill, cooking and wiping away sweat away from their foreheads, Nancy and Joyce are sitting by the outdoor swings nursing lemonades in their hands, and the kids (alongside you and Robin) are engaging in silly games by the street - rogue soccer balls, baseball bats and bicycles littered on the lawn.
The backyard of the Wheeler's house is spilling with birthday decorations, from brightly colored balloons wrapped around every piece of furniture to string lights and banners sprawled across the fences, growing from the sides as if they're vines. There are bean bags on the lawn next to picnic tables filled with a wide assortment of food and drinks, a handheld radio the centrepiece blasting a top 40 hit.
Flicking away a stray balloon knocking into his side - of golden color, with the words "happy birthday!" scribbled on it in sharpie - Eddie nods along to Steve's comments absentmindedly.
"Yeah, she really did go all out."
Steve chuckles.
"I even overheard from the conversation happening by the grill that Joyce's even going to bring out an outdoor projector to screen a movie later. I don't even know how she managed to set all that up last minute."
Eddie's trying to be polite and stay tuned into the conversation, but his gaze continues to drift to you, consciously or not. You're standing hunched over, hands on bruised knees with harsh pants coming out of your mouth from the intense sprint you just took off on, as Max and El make fun of how wild your hair looks now. You scowl playfully and threaten to chase them next, to which they say something back that Eddie can't hear (knowing them and based on the look of fake shock on your face, he guesses it's a sassy retort) before you set them off running in full speeds, giggling.
"You could just go over and join them instead of staring." Steve jokes, noticing that the metalhead's attentions are elsewhere. Eddie smiles an embarrassed grin at that, his fingers clenching ever so slightly around the gift and letter sitting on his lap, to which Steve's brown eyes fall onto next. "Oh, the gift pile is over there, here, let me help-"
Steve leans over to take the neatly wrapped box and manila envelope to match from Eddie's grasp, to which the taller boy only flinches and instinctively bring the items closer to his chest.
"No, it's fine! I uh, I want to be holding onto these for the party." he quickly rambles out, ignoring the way Steve's face scrunches up in confusion.
"You sure?"
"Yep! Positive. 100% positive, actually."
Steve narrows his eyes at Eddie, a million questions on the tip of his tongue, but he doesn't get to ask any of them before Hopper is calling him over for help. Eddie lets out a small sigh of relief when he's alone again, incredibly happy to not be subject to interrogation as to why he's so protective of the gift and the letter on his lap.
Truth be told, it's the letter that Eddie's most attached to.
He's spent the entirety of last week perfecting it, writing and rewriting certain paragraphs in odd times through the day whilst mulling over the countless moments encompassing his friendship with you, and it's the piece of paper containing his deepest confession.
He loves you.
More than a best friend should.
Despite being light as a feather, the envelope feels heavy as bricks in his hands in the present moment, the soft papery texture burning his skin as he toys with its flimsy edges, tips of his fingers running up and down the square corners. Though Eddie later (reluctantly) abandons the gift and the letter by the bench to join in on a few games between you and the kids, and to later help Joyce bring out the large birthday cake from the kitchen, his mind remains fixated on that singular piece of paper for the whole party.
Your features aglow with the red and orange embers of the flames from the birthday candles, your lashes flutter shut before your lips puck together to blow, the entire room erupting into applause and appreciative shouts when you finish. You're glowing, Eddie thinks, beaming with happiness and awe as you turn around to give Joyce a fierce embrace and Hopper a cool fist bump.
Eddie makes it a point to carry the gift and the letter with him, hidden out of sight and behind his back, as you tear open each gift during spoonfuls of red velvet cake. Once you've gone down the line opening everyone's gifts, all eyes zero in on Eddie, who sheepishly smiles and lifts up the items in his hands.
"Don't worry, I have your gift and letter here."
"Never doubted you, Eds." you affirm, holding your hands out. Eddie freezes at that, stuttering his response.
"B-but you can't open it here. You have to open it, uh, when you're alone."
The room's split in between confusion (the kids not understanding what Eddie could've possibly gotten you that would require you to have to open it in private) and a collective, amused understanding amongst the adults (smirks on Joyce and Hopper's faces, quiet whispers between Nancy and Jonathan, playful nudges between Robin and Steve).
But you seem none the wiser, a low hum and curious smile quirking up the edges of your lips.
"Ooh, mysterious. Alright then, Eds. I look forward to it."
Eddie's so damn tense on the drive back to your apartment that he's afraid he's going to go into cardiac arrest at any moment. Heart beating a million miles per minute, he can hear his blood pumping right by his ears as he rounds the corner to your house, throat running dry at the realization that you're holding his letter in your lap.
"C-can I come in?" he asks, breathlessly, slapping on a quick grin to mask his mix of fear and worry. "To see your reaction to my gift and stuff."
You roll your eyes playfully at that, unstrapping the seat belt from your shoulder.
"Duh. We've been friends since we were 7 years old."
He's been over to your apartment a million times before, but suddenly the dark hallways and oak stairs seem daunting. Each footstep echoes through the silence ominously, a mocking voice reminding him with each step up the stairs that you're one step closer to opening that damn letter.
Unaware of Eddie's anxieties, you're humming a light pop song when you usher him into the bedroom, closing the door half-hazardously behind you by kicking it shut with one leg before dramatically flailing onto your bed.
"Ah, home. Just me and my bed." you groan into the sheets, stretching your tired limbs out.
"And me." your best friend adds, pretending to be offended. Your face lifts up from the comforter in response, dopey grin on your cake and champagne filled-face.
"And you. Always you, Eddie."
You sit with your legs crossed across from him, Eddie's legs dangling off the mattress as you carefully inspect the letter in the light. Your fingers move to tear it open when he stops you quickly, placing a gentle hand on your wrist to stop you mid-movement.
"W-wait. Open the gift first."
You pause, amused, raising your eyebrows.
"Isn't it usual to open the letter first before the gift?"
"Well, yeah, maybe, but... trust me, it'll make more sense later."
You click your tongue against the roof of your mouth before letting the letter fall back down onto your lap.
"Alright... But seriously, this is only getting more and more mysterious."
You inspect the neatly wrapped box in your lap: the wrapping is rather imperfect, with odd scrunches at the sides and messy taping holding the wrapping together around the shape of the box. But the wrapping paper's pattern is too endearing (a cartoon shark holding an umbrella over its head) and so is the gold bow he's put on top, so you suppose it makes up for the slightly messy presentation.
"Sorry about the lame wrapping paper, it was like the only one left at the store." Eddie comments quietly, sheepish.
"Trust me, it's perfect." you assure him, winking.
Your fingers tear open the paper to see that inside is a beautiful, sleek, black polaroid camera. Taking the polaroid gently out of the box, you stare at it in shock, its weight pleasant on your hands as you twist it around to examine every feature. Underneath the box holding the polaroid, Eddie has even thrown in several pieces of film, tied together hastily with decorative string.
"Oh my god Eddie... this... this must've cost a fortune!" you ramble, looking up at him with awe. He shakes it off though, head twisting side to side in denial, signature smirk gracing his face.
"Nah. I had some money saved up from a few Corroded Coffin gigs and the internship I did a few months ago up in Idaho paid off. Besides..." he takes in a deep breath before smiling with a short exhale. "It's my best friend's birthday - I couldn't give you something small and lame."
You laugh at that, dropping the camera carefully onto your lap.
"Well, you could've gotten me a rock off the side of the street and I still would've loved it. I mean, this- this is too much." you fuss, not meeting his gaze.
"Hey. You deserve it. It's your birthday. And again, you're my best friend. Stop acting like I went into debt buying something nice for you." he jokes, poking you on the side right where you're ticklish. You squirm away from him, curses on the tip of your tongue, but you're not really mad at him.
You don't think you could ever really be mad at Eddie.
"Alright, fine. Thank you so, so, so much, Eds. You're the bestest friend ever." you mumble into his shoulder, arms wrapping around his neck.
He can feel your heartbeat reverberating through your top, your signature perfume wafting over him at this proximity, a comforting smell that he inhales slowly as he returns your embrace. It doesn't last long enough for Eddie before you pull away and set the camera to the side, hands now reaching out for the letter.
"Wait." he blurts out again, and this time, you playfully roll your eyes.
"Again, Eddie? I feel like you really don't want me to read this letter for some reason."
Your voice is playful, your expression clearly being one of fond amusement, but Eddie feels as if his chest is being squeezed by invisible ropes. God, if only you had any idea as that what you were about to read, he thinks.
"Just to give you background on the letter, that's all." Eddie assures you, shuffling closer. "So, remember how on your first day back from Boston we had that conversation in the cinema? About how you thought the plot of that romantic movie we ended up watching was super unrealistic?"
You two had meant to see the newest horror movie, but ended up running late to the cinema and the ticketmaster (a bored looking teenager with wild red hair and blue eyes) droned from behind the glass that all tickets for that film were sold for the day. You glanced over at Eddie, silently asking him what to do next, and Eddie had shrugged his shoulders and suggested just seeing another film.
The only film that had any available tickets - considering that it was past 9pm on a Friday night - was a romantic comedy starring two famous actors neither of you cared much about. But eager to catch up on all the time you two missed whilst you were studying in Boston and Eddie was attending community college in Hawkins, neither of you minded.
The screening room was nearly empty, allowing you and Eddie to sit by the front (far away from the few other people in attendance) and whisper throughout the duration of the whole film. Towards the end of the film, the female protagonist began to cry as her love interest stared to declare 100 things he loved about her, and you groaned audibly and rolled your eyes.
"God, I fucking hate how unrealistic these films are." you'd complained, sinking against your cinema seat. Eddie shot you an amused glance at that, popping a popcorn kernel into his mouth.
"Really, this is unrealistic for you? Not the non-existent sex scenes? Not the female characters always waking up with perfect hair and makeup? Not the protagonists always living in penthouses in New York on a barista's budget?" he'd teased, knocking shoulders with yours. You grunted, rolling your eyes.
"Well, all that's super unrealistic too, don't get me wrong. But come on, who the hell can name 100 things they love about someone?"
"What, you couldn't name 100 things you love about someone?" he had challenged, raising his eyebrows.
"Definitely not! Not even to like, my parents or best friends. Why, are you saying you can, Munson?" you retorted, crossing your arms. Eddie just leaned back and smirked.
"Oh, you have no idea. I definitely could. Like I could list 100 things I love about you right now."
He meant it sincerely, but you didn't seem to pick up on it - either because it was too dark in the cinema room to see how his eyes softened at the confession or because you'd become so desensitized to his honesty after a lifelong platonic friendship.
So you just snorted and raised your hands in mock defeat.
"Geez, alright then."
"I'm serious, I could!" he argued, poking you on the side to redirect your gaze towards him. You chuckled, shaking your head sideways at your best friend's antics.
"Yeah, okay. Save it for another day, okay? The old lady behind us keeps on glaring and I'm afraid she's gonna stab us if we keep on talking."
"The shitty rom com day? Yeah, of course I remember. Why?"
Eddie swallows nervously, tongue poking out to trace his bottom lip.
"I did it. I wrote down the 100 things I love about you onto that letter."
Your eyebrows raise and an impressed grin spreads on your lips.
"You actually did? Damn, I'm impressed, Munson."
"Yeah, well, considering I had basically our entire lives to draw upon, it wasn't that hard. One thing though: it's super, duper important that you read to the very end. Like, from number one to one hundred without stopping. No skipping ahead." Eddie hastily adds, fingers itching by his sides with anxiety.
You nod slowly, finally unclasping the front of the envelope as you begin to read.
-------------------------------------------
01. your eyes - they were the first thing I noticed about you when you first spoke to me.
Eddie was seven when he first met you.
He was sulking in the playground, a couple hundred feet away from all the other kids, busy kicking a small pebble back and forth with the cement wall in boredom. He desperately wanted the school day to be over. He wasn't as tall as the other kids yet, and all the boys his age already thought that he was too weird: obsessed with music and bugs instead of cars and girls.
Lunch periods sucked the most for Eddie - at the very least, during class, he could distract himself by nodding along to the teachers and burying his mind in whatever activity he had to finish. But when released from the confines of the classroom and people naturally split off into their groups, Eddie was almost always alone.
He didn't mind too much, he supposed. It was no different from at home, where his parents and him barely spoke - him in his room unless it was time to eat, silent dinners at night with his father's head in a newspaper and his mother nursing a cigarette.
Eddie was getting ready to kick the small pebble back to the wall, right leg bracing backwards, when he suddenly felt someone's warm hand on his shoulder.
"It's a lot more fun when you kick a ball back and forth, you know. And when you do it with someone, not a wall."
He recognized that voice.
Despite having moved into Hawkins less than two weeks ago, you already had a large circle of friends and several teachers wrapped around your fingers. Star student, extrovert, popular kid.
All things Eddie certainly were not, so as to render him starstruck that THE (Y/n) (L/n) would want to speak to him.
So his first reaction was to look around the playground, expecting to see another kid kicking a pebble back and forth and to whom your comment was actually directed to, but the courtyard was practically empty. You seemingly caught on to his confusion and giggled, stepping closer to him so as to shadow the sun behind your figure.
"Yes, I'm talking to you. My name is (Y/n), by the way."
The young boy was sure there wasn't a single person in his grade who didn't know who you were. And yet here you were, having separated from the larger group of kids to specifically seek Eddie out, introducing yourself with bruised knees and a wide smile. His eyes hesitantly lifted from the floor to meet your eyes - dancing with joy, irises twinkling with a glow akin to jewels, an alluring sense of warmth exuding from your simple gaze.
He was transfixed. His left hand was slow to rise but he eventually shook your hand, gripping your fingers tightly.
"Nice to meet you, (Y/n). I'm Eddie."
"Eddie." you strung his name out, as if testing how it sounded from your lips. "That's a cool name. Wanna play ball?"
You spun the soccer ball in your hands back and forth, wiggling your eyebrows.
"Sure."
And that was the start of his lifelong friendship with you.
-----------------------------------------
13: your sense of adventure - I'll never forget how the first time I got grounded by Wayne was because you wanted to sneak out to see the meteor showers.
"Did you hear that there's going to be a meteor shower tonight?"
You'd come barreling into his trailer, not even bothering to properly knock (and only sending a polite "hello" to Wayne who was sat on the couch watching TV), startling Eddie who was devouring one science fiction comic after another.
"A hello is usually how people start conversations." Eddie had grumbled back, folding the paper comic away, though his slight annoyance melted away quickly at your obvious excitement. It was spring break and you were two bored ten year old kids constrained to the mundane life in Hawkins.
"Hello, Eddie, you look great, hope you're well, blah blah blah." you mocked, putting on an overly formal accent as you eventually walked over to his bed and shooed for him to make space for you on the mattress. Scowling (though it wasn't genuine), he obliged, allowing you to sit next to him with your legs criss crossed. "But seriously. I read in the newspaper this morning that a once in a decade meteor shower is going to happen at 11pm tomorrow."
"And?" the boy questioned, flipping his head over to the side, staring at you with mild confusion. You looked positively offended at that, folding one of his spare sci fi comics in half to hit him across the shoulder.
"AND? And we gotta sneak out to see it for ourselves, Eddie!"
Eddie sighed, lips drawn tight as he shrugged his shoulders.
"I don't know, sounds kind of boring. Also, we technically have school tomorrow."
You pouted at that, crossing your arms in indignant disagreement.
"Aw, come on, Eds, PLEASE?"
"Why don't you go alone?"
You spluttered at his suggestion.
"ALONE? Eddie, this is a ONCE IN A DECADE occurence! Come on, as my best friend, please? I promise it'll be fun!"
Eddie suppressed another deep sigh - this was the paradox of his friendship with you.
You were this ball of energy, bright sunshine on a summery day, an extrovert who enjoyed parties, biking and spontaneous plans on a late Wednesday night. Eddie was more withdrawn, a sunflower blooming in the dark, someone who preferred to spend his free days reading comics or studying the genius of his favorite rock musicians with an open notebook and pen in hand.
Perhaps that was why you two worked together so well though. At least, that was Wayne's working theory, considering you two had been inseparable for three years at this point.
"Fine." he had grumbled and you leaped forward to hug him, crushing Eddie between your arms, making him wince.
"Sorry, sorry, I just got excited! Oh, we'll have to be super careful when sneaking out. You can bike alongside me whilst I skateboard, I know the perfect place to view the meteor shower: it's this little hill by Cornelia Park." you hurried out, swinging your backpack over your shoulder, your fingers thrumming alongside your skateboard.
"You're not sticking around?"
Eddie tried to hide the disappointment in his voice but it still laced his tone, eyebrows furrowing as he was expecting you to stick around for dinner at the least (which was routine whenever you came over).
"Can't, my cousins are visiting from out of state and my mom will kill me if I miss the family dinner. But tomorrow, I'll sneak out and be waiting for you outside your trailer at like 10:30, okay?" you said, sticking one of your pinkie fingers out at him. "Remember, Eds, you can never break a pinkie promise with me."
You warned with a serious voice, a joke that you'd been employing since last year when you'd used it to ensure Eddie would pay you back for ice cream. He rolled his eyes then and he was rolling his eyes now too, but he nonetheless wrapped his own finger around yours, sealing the deal.
"10:30 tomorrow, got you."
Eddie feigned going to bed awfully early the next day, telling a small white lie that he wasn't feeling well, and he waited dutifully until he heard the television flicker off and Wayne's breaths to even out from the other bedroom. Slowly creaking open his door, Eddie pocketed the keys sitting by the kitchen table after having quickly changed into a pair of jeans and a black jacket to fight off the autumn cold.
As you'd promised, you were waiting for him outside, skateboard tucked securely under your left arm, wide awake smile on your face as you excitedly waved him over.
"Alright, let me get my bike first, relax." he'd teased, unchaining his bicycle from a nearby tree as you excitedly jumped up and down on the balls of your feet.
"Come onnnnn, Eds! I don't want to miss the beginning."
"I don't think it's even possible to miss out the beginning of a natural occurrence." he'd countered, but your cheery disposition wasn't affected.
"Alright grumpy pants, let's get going."
He followed behind you carefully - night wind whipping through his hair, pale moonlight illuminating the cracks between oak trees and ink black roads - before you slowed down by the entrance to the park. You hopped off your skateboard and Eddie chose to walk alongside his bike whilst making small talk, with you insisting that the perfect spot to view the meteor shower was a large hill at the back of a private garden.
"Damn it, it's locked." you swore, placing one hand on the green metal gate before pulling it fiercely back and forth. A slow smirk arose on your face as you turned back at Eddie, a treacherous, mischievous glint in your eyes. "You know what this means."
"(Y/n), no."
"(Y/n), yes. We're climbing over the gate."
Before he could even stop you, you had thrown your skateboard overboard and started climbing the metal fence. To your credit, it wasn't a particularly difficult task - your left foot being dug between the gaps before you hoisted the rest of your body up and swung your legs over the top with ease.
"Just lock your bicycle to the side and we'll come back for it, promise." you promised from the other side, smiling at him through the gaps of the fence. Eddie ran a hand down his face, semi-regretting agreeing with you, before he relented and pointed an accusatory finger at you.
"Fine. But if we get arrested and go to jail, I'm totally blaming this on you."
"Guilty as charged, Munson."
He climbed over the fence after locking his bicycle by the side fence, though he had a bit more of a difficulty climbing it than you (with the fact that he was already taller than you by a few inches making it all the more embarrassing.) But he didn't have time to dwell on that, when the moment his shaky feet met the dirt floor, your left hand was gripping his wrist tightly and leading him further into the night.
"Come on, it's nearly 11." you cautioned, motioning to the fancy wristwatch your parents had gifted you for your tenth birthday.
The clearing you led Eddie to was beautiful - a small stream flowing underneath flower beds blooming with orange bellflowers, pink roses and white lilies, a cobblestone pathway leading up to a large hill separated by neatly trimmed hedges and plastic garden gnomes. He barely had a chance to appreciate every aspect of the small oasis before you were pushing him up the hill, flashing him a proud smile when you collapsed on top of the mound after a few minutes of climbing.
"Here we are!" you announced. "Perfect view of the night sky."
Eddie wordlessly sat next to you, knees closed together and drawn to his chest, catching his breath whilst staring up at the the empty night sky. After a few moments of silence, he frowned, and he was getting ready to ask you if you were sure that you'd read the paper correctly.
And that was when the first shooting star crossed the sky. A bright, brilliant flash of light which soared from one edge of the sky to another, it elicited a shocked gasp from you, your fingers curling around his upper arm excitedly.
"It's starting!"
After the first star, all the others followed in quick succession, decorating the inky black landscape with stunning bursts of white light. Eddie had to admit, it was an incredible sight to see, and at some point you'd snuck closer towards him and Eddie quickly looked down to shoot you a worried glance.
"You alright?" he questioned, noticing that you were shivering next to him.
"Just peachy! A bit cold, though, didn't have the time to grab my cardigan cause I had to climb out the window." you chuckled, rubbing your upper forearms with your hands. He was quick to discard his jacket at that, wrapping the fabric around your shoulders without a second thought.
"Are you sure, Eds?" you asked, frowning, though you were grateful for the rush of warmth. He nodded, disregarding the small chill running down his back at the sudden exposure to the cold.
"Positive. I rather I be cold than you."
"Thanks, Eds. You're the best."
"That's why I'm your best friend." he teased. You chuckled, shaking your head in agreement.
"I guess so."
And then when you'd grown weary and tired, resting your head on his shoulder as he instinctively wrapped an arm around your shoulder to make sure your head wouldn't slip off, Eddie felt a foreign sensation.
His vision was slightly hazy, rose hues glazing his irises, pleasant warmth filling his stomach as if he'd just eaten a delicious warm meal. It was a completely new feeling, your presence both simultaneously feeling like too much yet not enough, his breaths coming out at a slightly faster pace as he stared down at you.
Eddie didn't know what he was feeling, but somehow, having you rest your head against his shoulder in the dead of night... After having snuck out to climb over a fence into a private garden to watch a meteor shower with you, awoke something in him.
He didn't know what to call the feeling.
All he knew was that he liked it, and he liked being around you.
And that was enough of an answer for ten year old Eddie.
-------------------------------------
21: your laughter - I always like hearing you laugh. Some days, I even think it's better than Black Sabbath and Metallica.
A crush.
That was what it was, Eddie now realized, his teenage years finally giving him the language to explain what he was feeling for his best friend.
You were sitting with your legs swinging back and forth on the park bench, tongue lazily swirling around your ice cream, a celebratory treat for having gotten through - alongside Eddie - the dreadful three years of middle school.
Well, more dreadful for him than you, he supposed.
Even though in middle school Eddie had broken out of his shell much more (having discovered a love for fantasy novels, metal music and befriending a small group of boys who were also branded "nerds"), you and him were still separated by several stratospheres in the social pyramid.
You still shared a few classes with him, during which you always sat in front or behind him, for which he was always grateful. It was one of Eddie's greatest insecurities that sooner or later, you'd realize that you were too good to be with him and ditch for someone better. But you never did, even going so far as to defend him from snide comments from the other popular kids that you were "too good" to be hanging around someone like him.
Eddie often wondered if he was a burden to you: dragging you down as you swam, weighing you down as you soared higher and higher to the sun. You always laughed off such accusations, paired with a stern talking - akin to that of a disappointed parent - which emphasized how much you valued him.
Eddie still didn't really know why.
It was the summer before the start of high school, the realization which was sitting heavy in his lower stomach, mind swirling with a cacophony of anxious thoughts.
See, Eddie had spent the three years of middle school learning guitar, reading every fantasy novel he could get his hands on, and sticking by the same group of boys who had been branded as nerds from the beginning of sixth grade.
You'd spent those years becoming the captain of the swimming club, getting invited to countless parties and sleep overs, and growing up into your features.
Eddie always thought you were a nice looking person, sure. But as soon as puberty hit and his hormones began to kick in, he realized that you were growing up right in front of his eyes. Your shoulders became more defined, thighs more toned, you'd certainly grown several inches in height from that excited seven year old who'd first offered to play ball with him. Your facial features were balancing out, eyes slightly shifting in hue, lips more plump.
And fuck, you were gorgeous.
And Eddie hadn't been the only one to notice, considering how everyone either envied you or wanted to date you.
Eddie was wondering now what it must be like to grow up that beautiful as droplets of strawberry ice cream hung from the edges of your bottom lip, hair kissed with glittering sunlight streaming through the gaps of the willow tree you were sat under.
"You excited to start high school?" you'd asked him whilst wiggling your eyebrows, as if you were passing off a dirty joke that neither of you should be engaging in. Eddie blew through his lips, quickly taking a bite off of his own ice cream cone, throwing you a nonchalant shrug.
"Meh. Probably gonna be like middle school, but shittier and with more hormones."
You laughed at that, a carefree melody flowing from your throat as you threw your head back, yellow sunlight illuminating your features at the action. It was a proper laugh, a loud sound followed by echoes of giggles, eyes turning teary and stomach aching from the lack of oxygen.
It made butterflies flutter in Eddie's stomach, fingers itching to tap your nose and lips aching to kiss your cheeks, but he remained still, content to just sit back and watch you laugh at his dumb jokes.
"You're probably right. But god, it's such a big change, it's kind of scary." you had said, brushing a stray strand of hair away from your eyes. "I mean, high school! Four years in a completely new place! Then we'll be off to university, then we'll have jobs, then we'll probably have families-"
"Hey, hey, relax." Eddie had to calm you down as you were speaking so fast that you forgot to breathe in between each sentence, his left hand springing up to comfortingly pat against your clothed back. "You're overthinking it."
"Very me, isn't it?" you gave him a sheepish smile, kicking up your legs to cross them underneath your arms. Eddie just smiled in acknowledgement.
"Sure is, sunshine."
You stuck your tongue out at that, face scrunching up as if you'd tasted something bitter.
"When will you stop calling me that? We're not ten anymore, Eds." you commented, referring to the fact that Eddie had been calling you by the nickname 'sunshine' since both of you were ten. His justification? You were sunny, fun, and you always 'brightened his days' - "you're basically my sunshine" he'd confessed, hands wringed together, shy grin on his lips.
"Never, sorry not sorry."
"Well then what am I supposed to call you? Seems hardly fair that I get a nickname and you don't." you paused, humming as you began to seemingly brainstorm an appropriate name in your head. "Moonshine."
"Moonshine?" he mocked, giving you an incredulous look, to which you threw your hands up dramatically.
"I-I don't know! I was just thinking like, if I was going to be called sunshine and we're such opposites, you'd be called moonshine."
"I'm pretty sure that's the name of that illegal alcohol too. You know, the spirit that's banned in the US for having an insanely high alcohol concentration?" he teased, before he nodding affirmatively. "You know what, now that I think about it, I kind of like it."
"Really?"
"Yeah. We're opposites - sun and moon - and I sort of dig the thought of being named after a deadly alcohol brand."
"You're hardly fatal, Munson." you'd hit back, knocking your shoulders with his.
"Eh, Wayne seems to think I am whenever I cook."
You laughed again at that, and though this time it was shorter and lighter, it still did the job of lighting his veins on fire and causing a slight blush to paint over his cheeks.
Eddie was certain that he'd say and do anything - absolutely anything - to hear you laugh at his jokes.
------------------------------------------
36: your honesty - it might break a lot of hearts, but it's so refreshing.
"Everything alright?" you questioned Eddie from behind, frown on your wet lips as you peeked over his shoulder to stare at the retreating jocks.
You were both sophomores now, a full two years into high school, and Eddie had been proven correct in his prediction that he'd continue to be an outcast and a weirdo whilst you dominated the popularity pyramid.
The basketball team had taken particular glee at bugging Eddie at school - knocking into him in the hallways, purposefully ignoring him during group discussions, whispering words like "freak" and "loser" whenever they passed by him. That was, of course, so long as you weren't near him. They were on their best behavior around you: student body president, head of student volunteering, varsity swim captain.
After all, you were kind of one of them - you sat with the popular kids: the varsity athletes and cheerleaders and student government members. Eddie, on the other hand, sat in the back of the lunch room with the science club nerds, with whom they discovered a mutual love for D&D after being grouped together for a Chemistry project.
"Everything's fine, don't worry your pretty little head about it, okay?" Eddie had joked at you, winking. "We still on for Friday movie night?" he added, hopefully, slamming his locker door shut. His smile fell in the fraction of a second at the unexpected sight of your sorry expression.
"Yeah, about that... I can't tonight." you'd said awkardly, scratching your neck.
"What? Your parents got you doing household chores again?"
"Oh, no, no. My parents are out of town this week. It's... something else."
You were clearly hiding something: avoiding his gaze and dragging the soles of your shoes on the floor as you wordlessly trailed behind him in the hallways, making Eddie's curiosity worsen. After all, you two were best friends, you never hid anything from each other.
"What is it? Come on, don't leave me hanging, sunshine."
You were chewing on your bottom lip, hesitant smile sparking on your face when you looked up to finally meet his worried gaze.
"I have a date tonight."
Shit.
Eddie halted his footsteps in the hallway, eyes wide and unblinking as the words soaked in, heart beginning to crack and fill with dread at the announcement. He wasn't an idiot. He knew that you were well desired, he knew that you were gorgeous, he knew that it was only a matter of time before you'd had a proper date and a first kiss.
But he didn't think that day was going to be today.
And to add salt to injury, it had to be on a day where it was routine for you to come over to his place to watch a shitty VHS tape over popcorn and pizza. He loved Friday movie nights. It got him through late nights studying subjects he couldn't care less about, a distraction to hold on to as a cheerleader jeered at him or a jock roughly rustled into him by the parking lot.
"Oh. Uh, nice! Who asked you out?" Eddie had tried to come off as if he'd been unaffected, as if there wasn't now a sinking, clawing sensation in his stomach and his heart wasn't filling with black tar. His efforts to keep his face neutral and voice light paid off, as you visibly relaxed, slow grin quirking up the edges of your lips.
"Tyler."
"Tyler? As in, Tyler Peterson?" he'd spluttered in disbelief: Tyler was the complete opposite of Eddie. A muscular blonde and head of the basketball team, he was a senior with a large group of friends and a penthouse in the upper side of Hawkins. Rich, undeniably attractive and popular, the stinging pain of insecurity was beginning to prick at Eddie's skin as your grin only widened.
"Yeah, that's him. Not gonna lie, I'm surprised that he'd ask me out-"
"You can't go out on a date with him." the metalhead had quickly cut in, making you cock your head in confusion.
"Why... not?"
"Because!" Eddie shouted, his mind scrambling to find an excuse. Because in reality, it made sense that two of the most popular and attractive people in Hawkins High would go on a date. "He's a senior and you're a sophomore, yeah. It's creepy."
You stuck your tongue out at him.
"Ugh, moonshine, grow up. He's still 17 and I'm about to turn 16 in two weeks. It's not like we're breaking the law." you flicked him in the forehead, playful smirk on your lips before you continued to walk down the hallway, Eddie's footsteps quickly following behind you.
"Still! That's like, gross."
"Listen, I'm really sorry about cancelling our Friday movie night, I know you look forward to them as much as I do." you sighed, turning on your heel to stare up at him. "I'll make it up to you, okay? But I really like Tyler and I wanna give this a shot, Eddie. I mean, for fucks sake-"
You quickly looked around the vacant hallways before leaning over to whisper.
"I haven't even had a proper first kiss yet."
Eddie chose to ignore how the first thought in his mind was a sly comment - "we could kiss right now and get it out the way" - and he consciously chose instead to lower his defences, shoulders shrugging downwards at your strict tone and persistent gaze.After all, if Eddie knew anything about you, it was that you were stubborn and once you set your mind to something, he couldn't talk you out of it.
Besides, the logical voice in his mind now reprimanded him, he didn't own you. You weren't his. He'd had plenty of chances to make a move on you, to push you two over the line of friendship into love, a whole nine years in fact. And he'd never done anything. And it was selfish and unreasonable for him to want to keep you all to himself, away from other boys who also noticed your attractiveness.
You were akin to a siren, Eddie thought. Sweet voice, perfect features, alluring aura that enticed people towards you. Damn your attractiveness.
"Okay, fine. I'll leave the front door unlocked though in case you still wanna swing by afterwards."
"Aw, thanks, handsome." you'd teased, elbowing him on the side. The contact burned Eddie through his clothes, skin still tingling with hot jealousy, which he quickly distracted himself from by changing the subject to something irrelevant.
Eddie was left to sulk by himself by the sofa that night, and he was eternally grateful that Wayne was working out of state that weekend so as to not see the plight of his nephew moping around in the house alone. It undoubtedly would've resulted with Wayne grunting, placing his hands on his hips, cigarette loosely dangling from his lips as he'd ask: "where's (Y/n)?"
He didn't need any additional salt in the wound, Eddie thought.
Eddie had practically memorized every detail of Poltergeist at this point, the exact dialogue exchanged, when the jump scares occurred, when a character was going to be killed - but it was far less fun when you weren't sitting next to him, narrating out loud and giggling at his dumb jokes.
This sucked. It really, really sucked - especially since he knew that you were out probably holding hands with and leaning your head against that popular blonde, the complete antithesis to Eddie. Shifting uncomfortably on the couch, Eddie just wished that he could simply melt away, the stabbing feeling of jealousy never once leaving him.
Then he heard someone knock on the door. You had opened it and leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed over your chest as if you'd just been swinging by casually as planned.
"Hey." you'd offered, student president jacket draped over your shoulders, form fitting jeans hugging your thighs. "Can I come in?"
"Y-yeah." he'd muttered out, dazed, mind whirling with the million possibilities that could've led you to his trailer. After all, when he'd said you could still swing by after the date, he didn't think you would actually take the offer. Eddie figured you'd end up being driven home in Tyler's porsche or end up at the blonde's place instead, clothes discarded on his expensive penthouse bedroom floor.
"D-did you even go on the date?" Eddie spluttered, bewildered, shifting over to make space for you. Your expression soured at that, nose crinkling at the top, lips puckering.
"I did, but... it was a total bust. Turns out, we don't have much in common."
"Really?" It was impossible to hide the complete shock from his tone, in response to which you turned around and raised your eyebrows, challenging him.
"What?"
Eddie shrugged his shoulders, shaking his head sideways simultaneously.
"I don't know, I just figured... you're both popular, attractive and outgoing people. Would seem like it'd be a perfect match on paper."
"Eh. The conversation was stilted and awkward. Our sense of humor totally didn't match. And honestly?" you paused, giggling softly before continuning. "Everything he said and did annoyed me. Like somehow he was the amalgamation of every flaw and quirk I hate in a person."
"Yeah?" Eddie hid his smile of pride and relief behind his hands, as you snatched the popcorn bowl from his lap and popped a kernel into your mouth.
"Yeah. So I called the date off short."
"What'd you tell him?"
"The truth, duh. That he's a nice guy but we're a total mismatch. He tried to argue otherwise, grabbing my wrist and tugging me back to his car, but I just stared back and told him it was clear he was still in love with his ex anyways so he should probably just chase her."
"Huh." was all Eddie can offer in response as you flashed him another comforting grin and leaned back into the couch cushions, body loosening as your gaze fixated on the blue screen ahead.
Eddie stared down at his hands before back up to you, admiring how flickers of blue and red light passed over your face as another gruesome scene played, your jaw carved by the contrast of shadow and light dancing on your face.
It was a sight Eddie had seen a million times, but it never failed to make his heart race.
"Sorry that the date didn't work out." he whispered into the night, knees brushing up against yours.
He didn't mean it, at all.
You looked down at him with a lazy grin, shrugging your shoulders.
"Don't be, moonshine. Cause the date led me back here, didn't it? So it wasn't a total bust."
His heart fluttered at that, electricity tingling at his finger tips, as you then shuffled closer towards him to throw a blanket over both your laps. Your head on his shoulder, knees weighing against his lap as you leaned against him, all Eddie could do was nod in response.
"Definitely not."
Perhaps Eddie would be okay with you going on dates - so long as it meant more nights like this.
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58: your "i'm thinking hard" face. I don't think you realize you do it, but when you're really concentrating on something, your eyes glaze over and lighten and you pout your lips. I love that sight.
"What're you working on?"
You looked up upon hearing Eddie's muffled question, his lips preoccupied with a large muffin as you scowled and brushed away the spare crumbs from your desk. He had insisted on coming over and "helping you" study for the senior finals, which in Eddie's terminology really meant stealing snacks from your cupboard and trying to distract you as you worked.
"Senior prom planning." you'd responded, dropping your pencil onto the desk and rubbing your forehead with your fingers to soothe the stress. "It's taking fucking forever too. There's like, a million things to still work out before next Friday."
Right, the prom. Eddie remembered seeing all the obnoxiously colorful decorations around school advertising the event, alongside the countless cheesy promposals he'd been a witness to involuntarily.
Eddie didn't have an immediate response to that, so you returned your attention to the stack of papers, your face entering a trance like zone he recognized as concentration. It evened out your features perfectly and even your slightest reflexes - biting down on the edge of a wooden pencil or flicking the square corners of the pages with your delicate fingers - made you so attractive to him.
"Well, if you're planning it, I know it's gonna be fantastic." he had offered in consolation.
"You're not going?" you whipped your head back to stare at him, shocked, to which Eddie only shrugged his shoulders.
"Never been my scene. You have fun though, yeah?"
"But it's our final year!" you insisted.
"Your final year." he reminded you, his eyebrows crinkling in disgust. I have to repeat again."
You waved his comment off, abandoning your stack of papers and stationery by your desk before sitting next to him on your bed, fierce determined look on your face.
"Eddie, it's not just any dance this year. It's senior prom! One that I worked really hard on! And don't make an excuse and say that your other friends aren't going, literally everyone bought tickets - even the science geeks."
Damn, there went his excuse, thought Eddie. Your pleading gaze was heavy on his shoulders, teeth gnawing his bottom lips as he mulled over it, head turning fuzzy when you reached over and placed your hand on his lap.
"Come on, moonshine. Please? For me?"
He swore you had the ability to hypnotize people. It was the only logical explanation for when you fluttered your eyelashes and left delicate touches on his skin, Eddie's mind blanked and he wordlessly agreed to any of your suggestions. Prom and Eddie did not mix, at all, from the popular kids winning titles to the wearing of suits and cheesy slow dances, but when you were asking him....
"Come on.... I'll even save a dance for you." you had said quietly, voice dripping with undeniable affection.
"Fine." Eddie surrendered, accepting the pink paper ticket you dug out from your bag, your fingers brushing against his when he took the slip of paper from your grasp.
Then once Eddie got back to his trailer, he stared at the ticket for a few minutes in the dark, an odd stirring sensation settling in his stomach. He'd been your best friend for 11 years at this point. You were about to graduate. He was about to repeat senior year.
Next year would be the first year he wouldn't be spending every moment with you.
The panic that filled his throat was foreign, chest feeling as if an elephant was standing on top his body, prickly stabbing sensations in his lower abdomen. Staring at the pink slip of paper, Eddie turned the ticket over by the window, watching how the font of the words 'senior prom' flickered and changed under the pale moonlight.
Eddie had to tell you.
If there was any day to tell you that he loved you, that he wanted something more, it would have to be on prom night.
Letting out a shaky exhale, Eddie carefully tucked the ticket underneath a set of magazines on his desk, before forcing himself to drift off to sleep.
Prom came in a flash. Wayne had gone the extra mile of driving to the town next over to rent a proper suit for him, the velvet fabric and square shoulders fitting his figure nicely. But Eddie didn't recognize himself in this sort of attire - he was still pulling at stray hems and ruffling with the edges of the fabric in the mirror when he'd realize that he'd wasted twenty minutes just staring at himself.
"Shit."
His plan was to seek you out the moment he arrived, but the gymnasium was packed with people - a flurry of glittery fabrics and bright party lights, blue and purple balloons tied to the ivory white chairs and tables, fairy string lights intertwined with satin curtains. He'd bumped into his science club friends and before he knew it, he was practically pinned to be by their side, the sea of unfamiliar faces blocking you from view.
He caught the sight of you a full hour and a half into the dance, a brief glimpse of white velvet fabric as you easily walked through the crowd greeting people, before you disappeared from sight again. Eddie was already beginning to excuse himself from his friend group when static rang out from the stage, and the principal announced that it was time to read the results for the prom title crownings.
It was only when the party had completely died down - crushed coke cans and rumpled party banners on the floor, a slow forgettable song flowing from the speakers, half-eaten paper plates stacked on top of stained tablecloths - that he was able to approach you. You were mid-conversation with the principal, probably exchanging pleasantries as the balding man applauded your effort and all your service the past four years, before you turned and your bright eyes drooped in exhaustion.
They lightened up, however, when they landed on his figure, and you excitedly waved at him.
"There you are! Had a great time?" you questioned, excited to hear his response.
"Yeah! Shame we just uh, didn't get our dance." Eddie awkwardly added, hoping to mask his disappointment. The cleaning team had already begun to take the decorations down, the music club tidying up the DJ booth on the stage behind you.
"We can still have our dance, silly. Follow me."
You quietly led him out to the parking lot, which was now completely abandoned save for the few empty vehicles and black streetlights. Leading Eddie over to your car, you opened the front seat and dug out your Walkman from your bag. Checking which cassette was in, you grinned, pressing play and placing the player on the roof of your car.
"Come on, I don't bite." you'd joked, noticing how Eddie had seemingly tensed up as the music began to flow and you placed arm over his neck. He nodded, a weak smile on his face, before he carefully put his two hands on your waist, gently swaying to the romantic melodies of Ella Fitzgerald.
"You alright?" you asked, noticing that he wasn't making any eye contact with you, his brown orbs instead choosing to focus on how his feet shuffled on the pavement next to yours.
"Y-yeah." he breathed out, glancing up for a brief moment. "It's just-"
He paused. You looked ethereal. Even in the dull, harsh yellow light of the street lamps, you carried an almost golden glow, your facial features only seemingly complimented by the night sky. He swore he could count every individual star in the sky in your eyes, your French perfume washing over him in waves, clouding his senses like toxic smoke.
"We've been friends since we were 7." Eddie slowly started out as you laughed quietly, shaking your head in affirmation.
"Yeah. Nearly 11 years, crazy, huh?"
"Y-yeah. And I've been thinking, since this is our last year together in Hawkins before you go off to university, I should be... honest with you."
You frowned at that, your grin dropping for a fraction of a second before a curious smirk replaced it.
"You telling me you haven't been honest with me?"
"Not like that! But, I realized something. It's something I've been thinking about for, uh, a while, and maybe I should've said earlier but there never seemed to be a good time."
He was practically shaking with nerves, throat closing up, alarm bells ringing in his head. He could tell that you could sense his sudden anxiety, the way his breath stopped coming out in regular intervals and his shoulders tensed as if bracing for impact.
"What is it, Eddie?"
This was it. He took in a deep breath, looked you right in the eyes, and opened his mouth, "I love you" on the tip of his tongue-
"(Y/n)! You want any sides with your pizza?" another voice rang out from the car two spots down, from a blue BMW belonging to a student none other than Steve Harrington.
Fuck.
Eddie knew of Steve. They weren't friends, hardly acquaintances. But he knew that Steve was everything Eddie wasn't: popular, charming, star basketball player, adored by everyone, Hawkins royalty. Now that Eddie thought about it, he'd vaguely seen you and Steve talking in between classes and after basketball games - just catching up on random things, you'd insisted, just two close friends.
Now Eddie wasn't too sure how true that statement was.
"Just pizza is fine, thanks! But maybe some soda?" you shouted over, breaking away from Eddie for a moment, and he cursed himself for how he instantly missed your warm arms being wrapped around him. Steve flashed you a thumbs up from his driver's seat before driving into the night, leaving Eddie to stare at you with baited curiosity.
"You're... going off to Harrington's?"
"Yeah! His parents are out of town and he just got the sickest television - like the newest model - and a few VHS tapes rented out. He also helped out the most with the prom whilst I was planning it, so I offered to pay for pizza when he asked if I wanted to come over for movie night."
Red hot flashes of anger blinded Eddie's vision for a second, before it was replaced by crushing sadness - you were going over to Steve Harrington's. Alone. After prom. To watch a movie.
Something you two did all the time.
Eddie was trying his best to keep his face neutral, to prevent the devastating realization that he'd waited too long to confess his love to weigh down his smile. His efforts seemed to pay off, as the small smile on your face never faded, before you shook those thoughts off and stared up at Eddie innocently.
"Anyways, you wanted to... tell me something?"
Suddenly, Eddie hated the song that was playing in the background - Dream a Little Dream of Me - and his throat ran dry.
"Yeah. Just... once you leave, can I use your cafeteria card?"
Chuckling, you nodded, still completely blind to how devastated Eddie was internally.
"Sure, Eddie. Really, that was what you were so scared to ask me about?"
'No.' he responded automatically, internally.
"Yeah. I know, it's kinda dumb, but I just wasn't sure if the school president would be willing to bend the rules for me a bit." he teased, mock smile on his lips, elbowing you on the side. You shoved him off playfully.
"Please, I'd do anything for you, Eds. You're my best friend."
The words felt bitter on his tongue now, mouth filling with sour tones, but he nonetheless forced himself to smile at you warmly.
The moonlight was blinding him.
-----------------------------------------
66: your drunken ramblings. I swear, when you're drunk, you become a total clumsy, reckless mess. It's hilarious but also concerning, if I'm being honest. No wonder Robin is always playing the sober driver around you.
The first year without you was brutal, Eddie found.
He'd made a few new friends after your departure to Boston, boys who were equally obsessed with fictional universes and fantasy roleplaying as him - Jeff and Gareth, with whom he created the 'Hellfire Club' with - and he'd joined Corroded Coffin as a guitarist.
Anything to fill the void, now that you were no longer here.
On a good month, you'd be able to call him on a Sunday late at night to fill Eddie in on how you were adjusting to university life. He'd listen to you ramble about anything - your course, your new friends, how hectic and busy and off putting you found the bustling city - with a lovesick grin on his face, imagining in his mind how you'd scrunch up your face and toy with the telephone chord with your fingers during the conversation.
"You always let me talk too much on these catch up calls." you'd once teased, slightly embarrassed. "Feel free to tell me to shut up at any time."
"Never." Eddie had insisted, sitting up straight. He'd never get tired of listening to your sweet voice from half away across the country.
But there were many more months where neither of you could call - exam seasons, holidays spent apart, the fact that you lived by a university schedule and Eddie still went by a high school one. And though Eddie was beginning to adjust nicely to his new group of friends and was determined to graduate on his second try, nothing quite filled the gaping hole in his heart left by your absence.
So when you'd finally come back for summer break, Eddie basically refused to leave you alone. On the second week upon your return, you'd showed up at his trailer with an interesting proposition.
"You remember Amber? Head cheerleader our final year together?"
Eddie shook his head, biting down the truth which was that he had no idea who you were talking about.
"Well, I got an invitation to her engagement party and I can bring a plus one. Wanna... come with me?"
Had anyone else asked Eddie, he would've said no in a heartbeat. But he was starved of your presence, having missed you for a whole year, and how could he say no to you now when you were in front of him? Breathing, real, smiling so prettily, asking for him to spend a whole day with you?
"Sure."
Eddie semi-regretted it later on when you two actually drove up to the party later that night.
"I hate parties." Eddie groaned into his half-empty beer bottle, leaning against the balcony whilst Robin just shot him an amused grin, having been invited as a plus one to Steve.
"Then why'd you come?" she pressed, pink lips wrapping around an half empty wine bottle. The answer was simple, really - Eddie had come for you.
Otherwise, he truly couldn't care less about attending a fancy engagement party on the upper east side of Hawkins. Houses lined with white picket fences, expensive cars parked by marble driveways, huge penthouses with glazed windows and arched ceilings.
"You came for (L/n), right?" the brunette teased, licking her lower lips to catch the stray drops of alcohol dancing on her tongue.
"I guess so, yeah." he'd confessed, dropping his gaze to the floor.
"... When are you just gonna come out and say it?" Robin had then questioned, placing her hands on her hips, as if she was a parent scolding a child. "Seriously, Steve and I have placed bets since sophomore year and we're still sore losers at this point because neither of us have won our bets."
Eddie sighed, eyes flicking up to look into the large living room filled with sweaty bodies dancing to the loud house music, his eyes easily being able to scan the crowd to narrow in on your figure. You were twirling Steve around in a dramatic manner, almost making the boy bump into the table of food and topple over a stack of cupcakes, to which you quickly shouted out an apology and Steve began to laugh uncontrollably.
"It's not that simple, Buckley."
"Uh, it's very simple, Munson." she dragged out her sentence in a dramatic fashion, leaning against the balcony with one arm propped up as she looked him up and down. "You ask to go somewhere private. You say "I've loved you since we were 7." You two kiss and start to date."
She counted off of her fingers one by one as if crossing off a hypothetical list, before smiling at the metalhead. Eddie just scowled at that - god, none of his friends knew just how hard it was for him.
"It's not just... that. Like it's one thing that I've kept this a secret for over a decade now."
"Then what's stopping you?"
Eddie paused. He'd never confessed this to anyone before, he realized, staring up at his friend's curious face. He'd kept his insecure thoughts close to his chest, afraid of letting any of them see the light of day, afraid of the judgment he'd call upon himself upon being vulnerable.
But hell, what did he have to lose?
"I just don't know if... I'm good enough."
"What'd you mean?"
"Like... I've always been the outsider. The weirdo looking in. Sunshine's not like that. Popular, extroverted, outgoing, friendly - good at everything, loved by everyone. Even though we've been best friends for over a decade now, I've always felt as if... (Y/n)'s out of reach from me. I don't think I'd really be able to match up to someone like that."
Robin's smile faded into an expression of sympathy, which Eddie flashed her a grateful smile in response, her left hand then springing up to clasp onto his shoulder.
"Shit, Eddie... That's heavy. I had no idea."
Eddie wasn't quite sure if he appreciated or loathed the sorry smile on her face.
"Yeah, well, it's whatever. Just how things are, I guess."
Robin opened her mouth to object when you and Steve messily cut into the conversation, you practically tripping on your feet with how drunk you were, the sting of alcohol wafting off of you in waves.
"I've had seven shots of vodka." you proudly announced, steadying yourself against Eddie's shoulders by shakily grasping his body. He had to steady you upright as you toppled over on a step you didn't see, his sturdy arms hooking underneath your shaky arms. "Oops."
"Jokes on you, I've had eight." Steve countered, swaying from side to side, leaning on Robin who only rolled her eyes playfully and shoved him off.
"You alright?" Eddie whispered underneath Robin and Steve's loud bickering, brushing away stray strands of hair from your glazed over eyes. You nodded, humming lowly, before your bottom lip protruded in a pout.
"Mmhmm. I need more vodka though."
"Oh no you don't-" Eddie had to physically drag your body out of reach from the stacks of vodka bottles decorating the main table, your small frown quickly displaced by a mopey grin as you buried your drunken head into the pit of his arm. "I'm taking you home."
"I don't need to go home, I just need to sober up a bit!" you'd insisted, pushing away from Eddie, flailing your arms around. "Come on, the cake hasn't even been brought out yet, and I promised Amber I'd stick around till then."
"Fine." Eddie set his red solo cup down by the wooden railings, before decisively grabbing your left hand in his. "We're going for a walk to sober up then, okay?"
"Okay."
It was a chilly summer evening, green leaves and stray weeds crunching underneath his boots as you stumbled behind him, your warm hands a stark contrast from Eddie's cold ones. He could feel his metal rings shift against your skin as you swayed your linked arms together back and forth like a child, wide smile on your lips.
"Sobering up?" he'd teased, shooting you an amused grin in the dark, the empty streets illuminated only by the flickering yellow streetlights, the crescent moon hidden behind a fog of clouds.
"Hardly." you grumbled.
"Guess we need to walk a bit more."
Eventually, the two of you stumbled across an empty playground, and before Eddie could talk you out of it you'd decided to make a run towards the seesaw, forcing him to follow behind you closely.
"(Y/n)-"
"Sit, Eddie." you'd instructed, pushing down on his shoulders to force him down on one side. "Please, Eddie? Like the old times?"
Eddie smiled at that - it felt just like yesterday that Eddie was seven, red flushed face peeking underneath half-formed head of curls, clutching onto the seesaw in the school playground. Letting out an exaggerated sigh, he pretended to surrender into it, sitting down on to the wooden plank.
That somehow devolved into chasing you around the playground: pushing you down the slide, racing you to the top of the monkey bars, spinning you on the merry-go-round until you physically couldn't breathe anymore from how hard you were laughing. Eddie was no different, eyes tearing up as he fell onto the trampoline next to you, heavy breaths meeting the cold air as he tried to regain his breath.
"So much for a quick walk." he'd muttered, staring up at the few stars twinkling above.
"Did the job of sobering me up a bit though." you countered. "And plus, you can't tell me that playgrounds aren't real fucking fun. Even if we're adults."
"Not denying that, sunshine."
You turned over to stare at him, face a few inches from his, and there was a certain glint in your eyes that he couldn't quite read. Hint of a smile on your dry lips, your hands came up underneath your head to support it, fabric rustling as you adjusted your posture.
"It's crazy, isn't it? We're now at a age where our friends are getting fucking engaged."
"It's mental, yeah."
"... You ever think you'd want to get married? Like Amber?" you raised your eyebrows, voice half serious but half playful. His immediate answer - that he often thought about marriage with you - passed by his mind like a bullet train before he quickly replaced it with a safer answer.
"I'd like to think so, eventually, yeah. What about you?"
You hummed.
"Not sure. I'm a bit scared by the whole 'life commitment' aspect of it. I think the only person I've been able to tolerate my whole life has been like, you. Funny, huh?" you'd joked, sitting up right, as Eddie did the same.
His heart was pounding at a million beats per minute, your innocuous comment sparking electricity in his veins, but he had to remind himself instantly: you didn't mean anything by it.
"Yeah, funny."
Once returning to the party, Eddie found that the rest of the party participants had devolved into a game of truth or dare and spin the bottle. He'd participated in the latter, semi-half heartedly, at your insistence. All was fine until the beer bottle landed on you, and the person to your left announced that you had to kiss whoever you knew for the longest in the circle.
You'd done the unthinkable to Eddie, simply turning towards him, grabbing his face and giving him a fierce, wet kiss. It was the kind of kiss that had all the girls screaming in excitement and all the boys hollering with whistles, the kind that made Eddie break out in red flushes of embarrassment, mouth still tingling with the aftertaste of vodka and your honey chapstick when you pulled away.
"Didn't wanna lose, sorry Eds." you'd commented against his lips, flashing him a wink. He would've given you a joking comment in response, but his mouth was dry and his palms were sweaty, mind still catching up with what had just happened.
It was a joke. You were drunk.
But damn, Eddie wanted to have your lips on his again.
----------------------------------------------
83: you're an absolute whiz with the kids. Not just Henderson, the whole gang. Sometimes, I think they like you more than me - which I can't be offended by either. I like you more than me.
Second year without you in Hawkins.
Eddie was repeating senior year again.
God, it sucked. There were only so many late night calls and hastily written letters he could exchange with you before he went mad. He swore it had become a nightly ritual to stare at his house phone and to check his calendar each morning, counting down every day before any major holiday during which you might return to Hawkins.
You'd missed Christmas last year due to a research project and you'd similarily chose to spent Easter in Boston, leaving Eddie bored and a bit lonely. Sure, Eddie had gotten used to Hawkins High at this point. Hell, he'd started to revel in being the weirdo, the outcast, of purposefully pissing off the popular kids.
But it never got easy missing you.
It was a boring Tuesday morning. Eddie was thinking of anything in particular, eyes still laden with fatigue and his head still stuck in his semi-dreamlike state, when he'd stumbled over to his trailer door and swung it open.
But you were waiting for him on the other side, in a pair of blue jeans and a warm maroon university sweatshirt covering your figure, your arms outstretched for a hug.
"SURPRISE!"
He blinked at you silently like a deer in headlights, to which you chuckled nervously and lowered your arms slightly.
"Oh. Did I-"
Eddie didn't let you finish your sentence before he basically pummeled into you, wrapping his sturdy arms around your waist, squeezing you so tight that you couldn't breathe as he mumbled his next words against your neck.
"Holy shit, I missed you so much." his voice was wavering the slightest bit, tears lingering in the corner of his eyes which he rapidly blinked away before you could see them form properly.
"I missed you so much too, moonshine." you replied softly, voice tinged with adoration and fondness.
"H-how, or I guess, why are you here?"
"I got a day off earlier than I thought on my research project and I don't have any plans for the weekend so... figured I'd swing by Hawkins!"
"Swing by? You're not staying?" Eddie's smile fell by a fraction.
"I'm only here for a day before I'm flying back - I have to start preparing for midterms, plus I told one of my friends back in Boston that I'd help her move."
"Well." Eddie had teased, wrapping one arm around your shoulder, his other hand dangling the keys to his van. "Guess we gotta make the most of these 24 hours, huh?"
His first stop was to take you to the diner you were obsessed with, a small red and white colored establishment hidden behind the gas station that served the best french fries and milkshake you swore you'd ever tasted.
"God, I've missed this." you groaned, taking a light sip of the frothy dessert. "This is why I came back, actually." you joked, making him pout like a petulant child.
"You're mean."
"Eh. You like it."
His smile was automatic - he was just too happy to be in your company again, to see how your cheeks dimpled with a smile, to hear your lively voice right by his ears.
"I do."
The next stop was decided by you to be the arcade. Impatient at how slowly Eddie was walking, you grabbed his left hand to tug him along, making him chuckle at how excited you seemed to be over a couple of video games.
"(Y/n)?" a small, quiet voice rang out, stealing your attention away from Eddie and making you drop his hand.
"DUSTY!!!"
You eagerly waved over the curly haired boy whose face lit up in a wide grin at the sight of you, before he stumbled over and hugged you fiercely, awed expression marking his face.
"I thought you'd still in Boston!"
"I am! I'm just back for the day."
"Cool! Who's this?" Dustin had asked, pointing at Eddie, semi-frown etched on his face. Eddie had to suppress a scowl at that, as well as swallowing a harsh "get lost." He had no idea who this middle school kid was, but he already didn't like that (a) this kid had taken your attention away from Eddie and (b) now the boy was cutting into your one day back in Hawkins with Eddie.
"Oh right, this is Eddie, my best friend! Eddie, this is Dustin, one of the kids I used to babysit."
"Nice to meet you." Eddie had forced out, attempting to give the younger boy a reassuring grin. The faux smile didn't seem to work on Dustin, who only scrunched up his face in response, his sour expression melting away into a warm one the moment his eyes met back up with yours.
"Speaking of babysitting, I hope Steve's been treating you well." you teased, ruffling Dustin's hair. The younger boy sighed dramatically at that.
"I wish. In fact, Harrington's supposed to be 'watching me' here at the arcade - in reality, he's here to flirt with her."
You looked over to where he was pointing to see Steve leaning over the counter of the arcade, coy smirk on his face as he clearly tried to charm a pretty blonde girl.
"Tragic. I see his flirting skills haven't improved." you teased, making Dustin chuckle as well. "Hey, remember when you thought Steve and I were dating?" you looked back at Eddie, wiggling your eyebrows.
Eddie flushed red with embarrassment at that, whilst the younger boy's mouth dropped open in surprise.
"You two DATED?"
"No, Dusty, never. But this silly man over here-" you elbowed Eddie, and he shoved you off quickly with a small scowl on his face. "Thought that Steve and I were an item at one point. Senior year, in fact. As if Steve's not like the big brother I never had."
"You two do fight like siblings." Dustin added, and your smirk only widened. "Speaking of Steve, uh, since he's basically ditched me for the blonde - can I hang out with you for the rest of the day? Please?"
"Of course you can!" you exclaimed, nodding enthusiastically. "It's okay if Dustin joins us, right?" you'd asked Eddie, turning around to smile at him.
Eddie wanted to say no. The word was begging to be let out from his lips, sitting heavy on his tongue, but when you flashed him that hopeful glance and that damn kid gave him his puppy dog eyes (damn, Dustin was good at that), Eddie couldn't bear to be the bad guy and deny the invitation.
"Yeah, of course. Come on in, kid."
Eddie eventually loosened up to Dustin's presence over the night - the first hour or so he sulked in the background, feeling like a third wheel to your inside jokes and excited conversations with the boy, until you left to go to the bathroom. Eddie was leaning against the railings with Dustin sitting cross legged on the floor, before the boy picked his head up and pointed to Eddie's shirt.
"What's Hellfire?"
Eddie scoffed.
"You wouldn't get it, kid."
"Uh, I'm about to be a freshman next year, I'm pretty sure I can handle it. Come on, I wanna know."
"It's like a... club I started. Where we play games."
"What kind of games? Like Defender and Tron?" the young boy's question was so genuine, expression so innocent and full of wonder, that Eddie couldn't help but laugh a bit and let his guard down.
"No, no. It's called Dungeons and Dragons, D&D for short. It's like a roleplaying game."
Dustin continued to stare at the metalhead, peeking upwards to silently urge him to go on, and within minutes, Eddie was telling the curly haired boy everything he had to know about D&D. To his surprise, Dustin's attention never once wavered, only interrupting Eddie to ask questions and to press him further for more information.
"Aw man, that sounds so cool! I wish I could play right now." Dustin stated, eyes wide with awe.
"Well, Hellfire Club is open to any Hawkins High student - once you're a freshman next year, you and your friends are all welcome to join."
"Really?"
"Yeah dude! More the merrier, right?"
"Oh, awesome!"
"Did I miss something?" you'd joked, wiping your hands on the knee pads of your jeans, eyes flickering between the two excitable boys. You'd clearly missed a bonding moment between them, it seemed, and it warmed your heart to see your best friend and Dustin get along so well in your absence.
"Eddie just told me about D&D and said I could join his club next year! Isn't that cool?" Dustin rambled, tugging at your sleeves. You chuckled, nodding.
"That's very cool, Dustin. Now come on, I'm pretty sure I'm still better than you at Centipede and I want to prove it."
Night settled into Hawkins quickly, dark black skies covering the streets as you ushered Dustin into the back of Eddie's van, refusing to let him cycle back home in the dark. Eddie had to stop at a gas station for a brief moment, and you stopped him from getting out, waving your wallet in your right hand.
"Stay. I'll cover gas."
"And can you pick up some beef jerky too? Please?" Dustin asked from the back, jostling up and down from his seat. You chuckled at his antics, unstrapping your seat belt.
"Sure, Dusty. I'll be right back, okay?"
Once you shut the door and your figure disappeared behind the bright lights of the gas station store, Dustin spoke up.
"How long have you been crushing on (Y/n)?"
"WHAT?" Eddie had spluttered out, choking on air as he coughed repeatedly to let air back into his lungs. Dustin just shook his head sideways at that, clicking his tongue against the roof his mouth.
"Come on, dude, it's obvious. How long have you been pining after my babysitter? A year?"
Silence.
"Three years?"
Silence.
"MORE THAN FIVE YEARS?" Dustin shouted out, surprised. Eddie bit his lower lip, before the admission fell out with a heavy sigh.
"More like twelve."
"TWELVE?"
Eddie quickly turned around from his seat up front, twisting his upper body to glare at the younger boy.
"Yeah, 12 years, anyways, that's not that important. How the hell did you know?"
The curly haired boy just shrugged, smiling smugly as if it was common knowledge and Eddie was the idiot for not figuring it out.
"You were glaring daggers into Steve's head when he accidentally touched hands with (Y/n) whilst they were talking. Oh, and you won't stop staring. And smiling. And subtledly flirting. And you have that lovesick grin on your face that Lucas gets for Max or Mike gets for El."
"I don't know who those people are." Eddie had countered.
"They're my friends - whatever, it's not important. The point is, Eddie, you look at my babysitter the same way my friends look at their girlfriends."
The heated conversation was cut off short by you reappearing by the driver's window, the metal door swinging open as you waved the beef jerky packet over your head before tossing it to Dustin in the back seat.
"Gas has been taken care of and here is your jerky, Dustin. Ready to go?" you asked cheerily, totally oblivious to the conversation you've just missed between the two boys. Innocent smiles on both their faces, both boys nodded silently, though Dustin flashed Eddie a sly smirk in the rearview mirror.
"Where to next?" Eddie teased once Dustin had been dropped off.
"My house, please. I need to pick up my backpack before I head off to the airport, gotta use the phone to call a taxi too."
"Let me drive you." Eddie offered immediately, swallowing down his tired yawns. You frowned at that, worried.
"Are you sure? It's a bit of a long drive, Eds, and it's already kinda late at night-"
"Nonsense, sunshine. I'm driving you and that's final."
In reality, Eddie was trying to stretch out as much of his time with you as he could. He knew he had an early start tomorrow and he was feeling rather tired, but he'd be damned if he was going to lose out on an extra hour next to you by letting you take a taxi instead.
"Alright then." you smiled, nodding.
His van pulled up to the airport too quickly for Eddie's liking, his immature first thought being that he wanted to lock his car doors to prevent you from getting out.
"Take care of him for me, would you?" you'd asked once Eddie had driven you to the airport, swinging your backpack over your shoulder, fiddling with the clasps. "Him and all his friends, if you end up meeting them all next year as freshmen... They're all lovely kids. They could all use someone as amazing as you looking out for them."
His heart melted at your admission and he nodded automatically, slow grin appearing on his chapped lips.
"Of course. They're in safe hands."
"Thanks, Eds."
You stepped forward to give him one last hug, your face squished against his upper chest, and Eddie took his time to commit the feeling of your arms around him to memory.
All the loud noise - the intercom announcing flight details, the distant chatter of conversations from strangers, the shuffling of luggage and dragging of feet on the floor - dissipated into the background, his senses overwhelmed with one and only one thing.
You.
And how much he loved you.
"See you soon?" Eddied added hopefully once you two parted. He'd beg you to come back for at least Christmas, but that was never a given and he didn't want to be standing in the way of your career. You smiled back at him gently, patting his hands reassuringly.
"See you soon, moonshine."
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95: your bravery. I'll never forget how you handled finding out about the Upside Down. Whilst I wanted to run as far away from the monsters, you dived in headfirst. I was worried sick for you, you know. But I knew it was dumb of me to expect otherwise - you're the type of person willing to put your life on the line for your friends.
Eddie wished he'd seen you again in much better circumstances.
Not when he was repeating senior year for the third time and he was being hunted down by Jason Carver and the entire police department under suspicision for murder.
He immediately tensed when he heard footsteps and a crowd of voices ring out from the entrance of the lakehouse, his breath catching in his throat as he tried to remain as still as possible from his hiding spot. His mind was racing with an array of threats and worst case scenarios, his hands immediately reaching to the knife digging into his thigh.
"I'm telling you, Steve, things don't add up! Eddie would never kill someone."
He knew that voice. It was you. There was a rumbling amongst the group before the lakehouse fell back into the silence, save for soft padding of a single pair of feet against the wooden floor and the creaking of the front door.
"Eddie? You in here?"
Hesitant for a second but too eager to see you, he lifted his head slowly, dropping the knife back into his back pocket as he straightened up to meet you face to face. To his surprise, your face lacked any sign of judgment or disgust - instead, your eyes brightened with relief and you pulled him in to a bone crushing hug.
"Thank god you're okay! You are okay, right? You're not injured?" you frantically fired off one question after another, hands clutching his chin to lift his head up, eyes grazing over his entire figure scanning for any injuries. He smiled at that - the first genuine smile on his face in weeks - before gathering your hands up in his own and clasping them tight.
"I'm alright, sunshine. Don't worry. More importantly, why are you here?"
"Steve called."
"And?"
"Said you were in trouble. Suspcision for murder. I cancelled all my plans, lied about a family emergency and got here as fast as I could." you rambled, pausing for a moment to shoot him a look of shock. "By the way, did you know that the town is like connected to this hellish mirror universe called the Upside Down? And like there are these supernatural entities showing up threatening to break the very fabric of reality?"
"I don't know too much but based on what I saw with Chrissy, I'm... inclined to believe you more than not." Eddie responded, only to be cut off by Steve's voice from outside.
"YOU'RE STILL ALIVE, RIGHT? CAN WE COME IN NOW?"
You rolled your eyes at that.
"YES, STEVE, I'M ALIVE. They can all come in, right? I swear Steve and the kids can explain everything better than I can."
"Of course."
Eddie had a slightly easier time grasping everything than you - when you'd shot him an incredulous look he simply shrugged and smirked, insisting that it was akin to the many villains and monsters possible in D&D.
The day bled into night quickly and led to you, Nancy, Robin, Steve and Eddie standing by the edge of the lake whilst staring at a rickety wooden boat.
"I call shotgun." you yelled out, brustling past Eddie, only for him to grab your arm and yank you back.
"Uh, I don't think so. You're staying back."
"Says who?"
"Says me! Look, this is too dangerous, I'd rather you stick with the kids or at the very least just wait for us here."
The thought of you getting injured - his nightmares still haunted by what had happened to Chrissy in front of his eyes - made Eddie sick with dread and disgust, goosebumps rising against his skin.
"Tough shit, moonshine." you'd countered, undeterred. "I'm getting on that damn boat whether you want me to or not."
God, you were stubborn, Eddie cursed internally whilst running a hand down his face. He shot his friends standing behind you awkwardly a pleading look.
"Help me out here, guys, come on."
"... Hate to be that person, but if you're coming along then I don't see why (Y/n) can't." Robin added, shrugging her shoulders.
"Also, if this portal is underwater then it'd be good to have another great swimmer in the group." Steve chimed in, and you smirked at Eddie proudly.
"See? And I was varsity swimming captain all four years in high school. You're outnumbered, Eddie, now stop worrying so much."
Biting down his protests, Eddie gave in, though he made it a point to sit as close as he could to you should something go wrong.
And of course things went wrong - Steve got dragged in by an unseen force, you jumped in to the freezing waters right after him, so quick that Eddie hadn't even registered that you'd dived into the lake until the freezing cold waters splashed down onto his jeans.
Shit.
Black slime coating your fingers, grey ash dotting your eyebrows and crimson blood dripping from your coarse fingers, you were a terrifying sight to behold when Eddie saw you next. Clutching a carving knife strapped to your side, you were fearlessly cutting through the swarm of demon bats, saving Steve from potential death.
No, certain death, Eddie thought as you leaned down and helped Steve stand up on shaky legs. A twinge of jealousy stabbed at Eddie's chest at the sight of you shrugging off your jacket to wrap it around Steve's scarred torso, and Eddie couldn't help but think that Steve's hand lingered for too long on your back for it to just be friendly.
"Stop fuming at Steve, yeah? He did save our ass." Robin commented quietly from the side, smirking.
"Was not fuming at Harrington." was Eddie's weak response, to which Nancy and Robin only shot each other an amused glance. The girls ran to support Steve as Eddie walked right up to you, your eyes still on your muddied jeans as you wiped away the excess grime on the faded fabric.
"Hi again." you'd said nonchalantly. "Great weather we're having, huh?" you'd joked, wry smile on your dry lips.
Eddie couldn't believe you.
"You're impossible. And insane. Like actually, totally, insane." he'd responded, shaking his head sideways, awed and impressed.
Here you were - having just found out the truth about Hawkins and confronting a swarm of deadly supernatural creatures, covered in dirt, blood and ash - joking with him as if it was just another normal Wednesday. He didn't know whether to applaud you or scold you for your intense loyalty and bravery.
"You love it though." you stuck your tongue out at him, straightening up.
"I do." he'd said softly.
'And I love you.' was on the tip of his tongue.
But he swallowed it back, being grounded back to reality once Nancy called out to you two to catch up. Shaky feet almost slipping on dirtied grime and blood underneath, he figured there were much bigger things to worry about.
Much, much bigger things.
----------------------------------------
100: you.
Eddie used to think that that day was the most terrifying for him. Watching your body disappear under inky waters, running from demonic creatures, his fingers aching from repeatedly clenching around a metal baseball bat.
No, he's sure now that waiting for you to finish reading the letter is the most terrifying thing ever to have happened to him.
It's a painful and silent twenty minutes, during which he watches your lips quirk into fond smiles and silly frowns - he has to remind you repeatedly to continue reading, and to stop interrupting yourself to say something sentimental to him - all the whilst his heart beats so loud it drowns out the rain beginning to pour outside.
He figures you've finally reached the end when your expression suddenly twists into one of confusion, and you slowly look up at him through your lashes.
"Did you give up on the final point?" you joke, making Eddie frown.
"What'd you mean?"
"For number 100. You just wrote one word: 'you.' For all the other numbers, you wrote down more than that."
"Right." Eddie affirms, lacing his fingers together nonchalantly. He hopes the dim lighting in the room is masking his flushed cheeks, and that his voice is remaining as stable as he thinks it is in his head. "I told you I wrote a list of 100 things I love about you, right?"
"Yeah." you repeat back, still not grasping it.
God, he wonders, how could you be so bright yet so oblivious that he has to spell it out for you?
"All the other numbers combined, leading up to number 100. The thing I love the most about you is... that you're, uh, you." he slowly finishes.
Eddie's sentence hangs heavy in the air, atmosphere in the room suddenly sweltering hot and thick, your fingers slowly closing the envelope with your arms falling to your lap.
"... What are you saying?"
There was no going back.
"I love you."
There.
He'd said it.
Nearly 15 years of secret pining, of watching you date one guy after another whilst feigning disinterest, of being teased by all your mutual friends for his infatuation for you, of accepting your warm hugs and nightly cuddles as nothing but platonic...
All down to those three cursed words: i love you.
It's out in the open now, Eddie's stomach twisting with a tornado of emotions as he carefully tries to gauge your reaction. You're motionless, eyes wide and unblinking for a moment, your deft hands dropping the letter onto the bed.
"A-are... are you serious?" you squeak out.
Eddie suppresses a laugh at how shocked and in disbelief you seem to be.
"Well... yeah. Trust me, I wouldn't write 100 things I love about someone just for anyone."
You just nod at that, emotionless, eyes falling to your carpeted floor. He can't figure out what you're thinking, but it feels as if time is ticking by achingly slow and his lungs burn with anticipation with every beat of silence that passes in your bedroom.
It's killing Eddie, not knowing what you're thinking, and for a second he's worried that he's done for.
That he's destroyed your friendship, you're about to frown and tell him that you're sorry but you don't feel the same way. He opens his mouth to quickly begin to let out a string of apologies, preapred to swallow back all his words and beg for forgiveness, but he doesn't get to it.
He can't speak, he can't breathe, he can hardly process anything else other than the fact that your lips are now suddenly on his, your legs straddling his lap as you tackle him onto the mattress. Teeth clashing against teeth, it's desperate, his fingers gripping onto your waist tightly as your lips chase his.
He can taste the remnants of the buttercream frosting from your birthday cake, your lips pillowy and soft. He's kissed you once before, sure - that drunken kiss for the game of truth or dare - but nothing compares to this, the way his vision blinds in ivory white, finger tips buzzing with electricity, heart aflame with infatuation and lust at the way you growl and deepen the kiss.
"I love you too, Eddie." you reply afterwards, lips still swollen from the aftermath of the kiss.
"Really?"
It's his turn to be shocked, heart skipping at the amount of adoration and awe in your hoarse voice.
"Yeah. But w.... why didn't you say anything earlier?" you ask quietly, bewildered. Eddie laughs awkwardly at that, shrugging.
"That's the million dollar question, I guess. I don't know, I just... everyone loves you and wants you. You're so beautiful and talented and outgoing and I... I wasn't sure if you'd ever want to choose me." he mutters out hesitantly, scratching his neck, purposefully avoiding your gaze.
Eddie's a little embarrassed and ashamed to be admitting it now, knowing that you do indeed love him back, but it all melts away like ice in the summer heat when your fingers redirect his chin upwards to meet your gaze.
You're practically glowing with happiness, golden halo around your hairline.
"Always, Eddie. I'd always choose you."
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a/n: ANOTHER slow burn Eddie fic down! If you're actually read this right now and you read to the end = thank you. After the overwhelming love y'all gave me for 'you made me hate this city', I knew I had to add another fic to this collection. And ofc, Taylor is my fave artist of all time so it seemed only fitting i honor her with a fic.
SIGH so this fic ALMOST wasn't published. Like i really genuinely didn't know if I would end up posting this. I was (and still am) afraid of putting it out there lmao bc of its length and the unusual writing (like the flashbacks and letter structure), but alas.
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buckets-and-trees · 10 months
Text
Talk
Title: Talk Fandom: MCU Characters/Pairings: Pleasure Dom!Bucky x Female!Reader Word Count: 2k
Summary: He's ready to give you everything you want and things you don't even know you need yet.
Content/Concept Warnings: BDSM AU, discussion of BDSM themes, oral female receiving, praise kink, dirty talk, overstimulation, forced orgasm
Notes: TRIPLE THREAT SUBMISSION for @buckybarnesevents WEEK TWO of Hot Bucky Summer: "What Should I Call You?", my fourth square of @buckybarnesbingo K4 "Kink: Forced Orgasm, and my second square for Connect4 Alternate June-iverse: C2 "BDSM." Also, @biteofcherry, you totally called the BDSM vibes from that little last line tag game sentence I posted the other day - it was this, mwahaha!
Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest
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You sat sideways on the couch, your arm draped over the back, legs tucked up comfortably beneath you. He mirrored your position, though with just one leg brought lazily up onto the couch, leaving his impressively thick thighs spread wide, teasing your fantasies.
Indulging fantasy was why you were there in the first place.
And you almost felt like this was any normal kind of Saturday afternoon with the new boyfriend you were eager to crawl into the lap of and be devoured by for the first time.
The setting fit – cozy living room of a sophisticated man’s apartment with leather furniture, modern art on the walls, small but sufficient kitchen, floor to ceiling windows along one side of the room that led to a private balcony, and a door that you knew would lead to the bedroom.
But it was just a little too tasteful to be real.
And he didn’t live here.
It was all designed to make you feel comfortable, an indulgent illusion of reality.
“You’re sure you’re not thirsty?” he asked.
He hadn’t offered anything alcoholic – strictly against policy so you were both sober – but you declined again with a shake of your head.
“Okay,” he said, “but remember it’s my role to make sure you always feel safe and taken care of, and that includes the small things like getting you a drink, and you can change your mind at any point. You’re not a burden. We are here for you and what you want.”
Warmth bloomed through your core – tinged with desire, but mostly just heat that was part comfort and part reticence. You had never taken such a bold measure of self-indulgence or self-care or self-discovery or whatever this could be called. It had taken almost two months for you to get from scoffing at the suggestion to sitting in the room on this couch across from the brunette Adonis who had said to call him Bucky (a nickname – you were asked to give a nickname as well when you registered and had gone with Rio).
“The last thing we should discuss, if you’re ready to move forward, is your safe word.”
“Brazil,” you responded without hesitation.
He smirked, but it was in no way unkind. “Rio and Brazil – I’m sensing a theme.”
“Another thing on the list of dreams to finally indulge,” the words tumbled out of your mouth.
“I hope that’s another thing you’ll choose to pursue.”
You laughed. “God, it’s so weird just how normal all this conversation feels. We just spoke at length about my kinks and limits and now I’m telling you my hopes and dreams. I’ve rarely shared this much of myself to anyone, and certainly not after only knowing them for less than an hour.”
“Well, part of that is that we all feel a little safer exposing ourselves to strangers because they’re not part of our routine,” Bucky said, “but there’s some trust that’s established by the mere act of us talking about your boundaries. It’s certainly a foundational part of the process. This only works when you feel comfortable with me, if you trust me – otherwise you cannot truly submit to me as your dominant in this arrangement.”
You nodded.
“Trust, strong communication – without them, there’s no way I can expect you to reasonably let go of your inhibitions either,” he soothed, moving his hand forward to brush his fingers over yours.
“The world of BDSM and kink is vast, but it shouldn’t be overwhelming. I never want you to feel like you’re an Alice who’s fallen down a rabbit hole and exposed to and expected to navigate the wonderland on your own.”
“I appreciate that. There’s…” you hesitated, but his rapt attention helped you feel like you could continue the thought on the tip of your tongue. “There’s a lot on the internet – a lot that I thought I knew about this stuff, but even just the registration and profile of preferences I had to fill out was pretty illuminating.”
After the basic registration you had been directed to complete an Experience and Curiosity Checklist that walked you through over 250 different activities and indicate whether you had tried it before or not, your pleasure during that activity if you had, and then a ranking of if you would like to try or do it in this setting – from never to need, if each activity was something you would entertain in a consensually forced situation, and if you would give, receive, or were up for both.
“Illuminating, huh?” Bucky grinned.
You felt just a touch of heat rise in your cheeks.
“You’re incredibly smart, and I like that,” he said, his grin turning to a softer smile. “That long and thorough profile? It’s the key to all of this – it’s not only for you, but also for me. I was matched to you ahead of anyone else on our staff. I’ve been preparing for you.”
“Like studying up?” you interjected.
“Of course, and the time we’ve spent up until now talking is for both of us, as well. You have a question you want to ask, something that wasn’t fully clear to you through your own research and filling out the profile. Ask it.” He tapped gently on your fingers, another motion of reassurance, connection.
“Forced orgasms.”
“I’m not surprised you would want to know more about that particular aspect.”
“I get the general concept, but I guess I don’t understand how that translates into practice,” you admitted.
Bucky nodded. “Sex should be engaged in for intimacy and pleasure – sometimes only pleasure, but not all the partners we are involved with are people we would trust to push us beyond our limits – either because a relationship is new, it’s a one-time thing, or because we don’t know how to communicate the limits and boundaries. Just like anything else, sex is a part of our experience as humans that we learn and grow and change with. A forced orgasm is a way to explore pleasure and power dynamics, but there must be that established trust. They can be both physically and emotionally intense because it could be exploring something new or pushing you past limits – you would give up power and be subjected to my whims.”
You took a deep breath and nodded.
“You give up power, but not safety – that’s important for you to remember. You always have your safe word or tap me three times if you can’t speak, I’ll always stop immediately. Forced can also be a specific part of roleplay scenarios. We can discuss it more, but I think you ought to experience it. Do you think we’ve built enough trust for us to begin?”
“Oh, now?”
“Yes, now, or we could talk more before we begin, we could talk and do nothing more tonight, or you could leave now and go think before your next appointment.”
You bit your lip, but only out of concentration for deciding, not out of nerves.
“What do you want?” he asked patiently.
“I want to begin the physical experience.”
“That kind of specificity will be rewarded, Rio.”
You grinned.
“You didn’t mark this very high on your profile, but I think you’re going to find out you have quite the praise kink.”
You half-gasped and half-giggled, surprised that he would say something so bold and yet also not.
“Strong independent woman like you? High achiever, determined. You’re not vain, and you don’t chase it, but you like recognition outside the bedroom, right?”
“Well, yes.”
“You’ll love it here, too, doll.”
You pressed your thighs closer together. A slow undercurrent of desire had been present since the night began, but as things began to transition, your core was beginning to thrum with anticipation.
“Bucky?”
“Yes?”
“Before we get started, I – well – just – thank you for not asking me why I decided to come here.”
“You didn’t ask me why I chose this profession. It might be oversimplification to say we’re both here because we want to be, but that’s the bottom line, isn’t it?”
“Yeah.”
“Know there will never be an ounce of judgment here – not for your desires, your kinks, your fears, your motivations. Don’t worry about doing anything wrong in there – we’ll be learning what your body wants together. You need to stop, we stop. You need to pause, we pause. You want to go slow or try something again or from a different angle, you tell me. Deal?”
“Deal.” God, he made you feel like the world was at your feet even though you were surrendering to him.
He stood up and pulled you with him. “One more thing.”
“Hmm?”
“In there, you call me ‘sir,’” he said. He brought your hand up and placed a whisper of a kiss on the inside of your wrist.
Everything in you melted instantly and you had to remind yourself to breathe.
“You got that?”
“Yes, sir.”
He smirked.
You knew he was going to ruin you.
You knew this, you knew you were ready and eager, and yet you also could tell nothing in your life had quite set you up for what you were about to experience if he had you pliant and nearly pleading for him after that mere gentle touch.
“Why don’t you head to the bedroom, I’ll give you a few minutes to get comfortable, and then I’ll come in.”
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Two hours later, you were a writhing mess on the mattress, completely naked and splayed out for him while he was still fully clothed. His head was buried between your thighs, your hips firmly in place by his left arm pressing down on your pelvis. The fingers of his other hand were buried in your cunt, stroking the sensitive spot on your inner wall slowly and torturously – because every sensation down there was too much now.
He had traced his fingers over every inch of your limbs, teased your nipples, stroked your neck, ghosted his hands over your hips, teasing until you were pleading for him to touch your pussy.
He had told you once he started, he wouldn’t stop.
You knew he wasn’t lying, but you had never known an experience like this.
He had edged and denied your first orgasm until you were desperate and crying. The ultimate bliss had been blinding. He had praised you, told you your first orgasm with him had been truly beautiful, and your back had actually arched at his words, an inner keening. He’d been right about that kink.
And then he’d been nothing but relentless, bringing you to the edge and back again, then hurtling you over numerous times, with only brief moments of reprieve before torturing you with his lips, teeth, and tongue, with his hands, and with his words. Filthy promises of things he would do, dangled your fantasies in front of you, teased out admissions from you of even darker desires he as he presented new options you’d never considered, all the while pushing you into orgasm after orgasm. You keened and cried.
It was too much, and you told him so.
He disagreed, coaxing that you could give him another, and another.
“Sir,” you sobbed, “sir, stop, I can’t.”
Now the crying was continuous, and those were the only four words you seemed to be able to utter. When it devolved to only hitched breaths and sirs, Bucky slowed and stopped.
“Do you remember your safe word?” he asked.
“Yes,” you rasped.
“And?”
“I didn’t say it.”
He chuckled. “Just checking, Rio.”
“I know it’s Brazil! Break over, keep going.”
“It’s the endorphins – even though the overstimulation is there and it’s uncomfortable, the high with the endorphin release through the pain is its own trip, isn’t it?”
“Yes, yes, now keep your word and don’t stop until I’m utterly broken,” you whined, wiggling your hips as much as you could manage.
His low laugh made you shiver. “You’re going to be one of my favorites, I can tell.”
And then he pressed firmly on that spot inside of you and sucked hard on your clit in one sudden moment and ripped another orgasm and scream from you as you twisted one hand in the sheets and tugged his hair with the other, not ready to stop yet. He was as addictive as he was relentless, and you were not going to leave an ounce of this unexplored, and this was only the beginning.
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Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest
End Notes: I feel like I knew some of the basics when it comes to BDSM and some of my fics have had BDSM elements, but I did a fair amount of research because I didn't want to do any disservice to the what a healthy relationship exploring BDSM might look like. This is one take. I found some very helpful insight at theduchy.com (specifically their BDSM Experience and Curiosity Checklist) and an article Bustle published by two sex educators that took a very straight-forward approach in discussing some of the basics. I'd go so far as to say there things that I learned or had reaffirmed or got better language/theory about by studying about BDSM that I think should just be base safe sexual practices (around consent, boundaries, exploration, trusting your partner, etc).
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lordgrimoire · 1 year
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Jack Fenton is From Gotham, a Headcannon
So, Jack Fenton, Big, caring, Dad Shaped Individual who cares about Family and his Profession and would more than likely choose family if things went Funky. The Guy who has ran through multiple walls and is capable of fighting Ecto beings BARE FISTED and winning. This guy, who just looks at the mayhem around him and goes “Ah, a peaceful day.” while Maddie is losing her entire god damned mind. You can only really get that sort of attitude about chaos in a few places, and I think Jack was born and raised in Gotham, and furthermore, I think his parents generation of Fentons lived in Crime Alley. 
The IDEAS this gives me, like in a reveal gone sideways with the GIW finding out Jack takes Danny and hides out in his childhood romping grounds and the people just go “Oh Hey, Jack’s back.” and they just melt into the underbelly of Gotham, no one really the wiser and the GIW constantly losing vehicles and Agents to the meatgrinder that is Crime Alley.
Give Me Jack Fenton who has SEEN SOME SHIT, Give me Jack Fenton who has DONE SOME SHIT. This man knows how to do a lot of things and the legality therein can get very Sketchy. Then give us the glory and horror of Gothamites slowly emigrating too/immigrating from Amity Park and it’s just like, That Explains A LOT.
I ran away with this, I shall now tag folks who I think would like this.
@stealingyourbones
@captain-krow-drozdov
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burntheedges · 14 days
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Maintenance Request Chapter 17
Joel Miller x f!reader | new chapter every Friday 18+ | ao3 | main post & chapter list chapter word count: 3.2k
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chapter summary: Joel follows through on that promise of a phone call. 😏
a/n: thank you as always to @katareyoudrilling for being the best beta 💕
chapter tags/warnings: flirting, banter, fluff, cursing, food and drink mention, pet names (honey, gorgeous, darlin’, baby, sweetheart, pretty girl, good girl, handsome, cowboy), reader wears lingerie with gusset fastenings (picture whatever you'd like), phone sex, dirty talk, masturbation (f & m), Joel talks you through it
Chapter 17
Saturday, November 2 Tenth week of the semester
On Friday and Saturday, you and Joel texted a bit, but he was clearly busy with Sarah’s tournament and his family (which grew in size in your mind every time you learned more about them – how many cousins did he have, anyway?). 
You spent Saturday with Beth and Ellie.
“What’s this project about?” Beth asked Ellie as she flopped onto the couch next to her. She’d brought coffee and donuts, again, and the three of you were sitting around the strange, flat sculpture-thing Ellie had brought over and set in the middle of your coffee table.
“We’re supposed to pick a historical event and do a presentation on it.”
You and Beth both squinted at the thing on your table. “Is this a historical event?” 
Ellie sighed. “It was going to be the Emu War, like that’s supposed to be the plain and a town, but I realized I have no idea how to do the emus. Like, I can use little plastic soldiers for the humans, but what the fuck do I do for the emus?”
Beth had started giggling the second Ellie said “Emu War” and looked like she might fall off the couch.
You turned your squint to Ellie. “Was there a list of events to choose from?”
She looked shifty and wouldn’t meet your gaze. “Maybe,” she mumbled, tucking her hands up into the sleeves of her hoodie..
You raised your eyebrows. “Was the Emu War on it?” You had a feeling it wasn’t.
“No,” she muttered, confirming your suspicions. “But she said I couldn’t do the moon again. And I didn’t want to pick some boring, snoozefest historical event! What’s cooler than emus?” She crossed her arms, indignant. Beth teetered sideways as she giggled. You noticed she was laughing so hard her laughter had gone silent.
You sighed. “Did it say you could pick your own?”
She nodded, and then shrugged. “Yeah, but she said she’d grade it harder.”
Setting aside your thoughts on that grading strategy, you replied, “ok, well, sounds like you can choose the Emu War then. So what are we going to do about these emus?” You heard Beth snort and turned to find that she’d buried her face in one of your throw pillows.
Ellie started to explain her plan for demonstrating the different parts of the war on her landscape and you started poking Beth in the leg to get her to find her composure. It sort of worked.
“Hey,” Beth took a deep breath and made a soft “woo” noise as she breathed out, clearly trying not to laugh. “We can go over to that hobby store, the one with the model trains. Maybe they have little figurines that would work.”
Ellie perked up. “Yeah! I bet they have all sorts of weird little guys. And model shit.”
You laughed, shaking your head. “Alright, let’s head over there now. Maybe we can get lunch on the way back, and then you can plan your battle.” Ellie grinned and jumped up to lead the way to the front door. You caught Beth’s eye but quickly looked away as you felt a laugh pull at the side of your mouth.
By the time you’d gone to the store, retrieved all sorts of “weird little guys” and “model shit” for Ellie, and helped her plan her presentation, it was well after dinner. Beth volunteered to drive Ellie and her historical event home, so you found yourself alone and putting laundry away, wondering if Joel would manage to find some privacy as he’d said. There was a party of some kind with his family that night, and he’d sent you a couple of pictures of a crowd of dancers, Sarah among them, smiling. Ellie had caught you smiling down at your phone earlier and teased you for it mercilessly.
Around 10:45, your phone buzzed as you settled into bed with a book.
Joel (10:44 PM): You free, honey? I just escaped.
you (10:45 PM): sure am 💕
** incoming FaceTime call from Joel **
When his face came into view, you noticed he looked tired. 
“Hey there, handsome. How was the party?”
Joel smiled, and you could see the fatigue in his expression. “Still going. They made me dance too much, but otherwise fine. I’m beat. How are you, gorgeous?”
You smiled at him and settled into your pillows. “Nothing exciting here. Just cleaned up a bit, did some laundry. Well, I did spend the afternoon with Ellie and Beth. Helped her with a class project.” 
Joel looked wistful for a moment. “Sounds nice. Would like to spend a day like that with you.”
You smiled, and felt your cheeks heat. This man. “You’re welcome to join us anytime you’d like, but I can’t promise much excitement with laundry. How was the tournament?”
He settled back into his pillows and you noticed the unfamiliar room. “Good, Sarah’s team played well. Didn’t win every game, but they did win most of ‘em. They’ll play in the final games tomorrow.” 
“Tell her I said congratulations and good luck.” 
“I will. What was Ellie’s project about?”
You laughed. “The Emu War, in Australia. We had to go out to that model train store to get her some little figurines for her mockup.” Joel laughed, too, shaking his head.
“Everything I hear about your niece is like a new adventure. I can’t wait to meet her.” You grinned at him. 
“I can’t wait to introduce you.”
You were silent for a moment as you studied the room he was in. 
“Joel, where are you?” The bed looked small and the room had some interesting decor. 
He laughed. “I’m in my cousin’s son’s room for the weekend, he’s away at college. Left his room looking like it did when he was in middle school, I’d guess. Sarah’s in with her little cousin.” He panned the camera to show you decor you would in fact associate with a 14-year old boy. There were even some pictures of women clearly cut out of magazines and taped up on the wall at the foot of the bed.
“I see you have some inspiration keeping you company,” you teased. 
Joel turned the camera back around so you could see his face, and raised an eyebrow at you. “Baby, if you think I’m looking anywhere but at you whenever I can see you, you haven’t been paying attention.” 
You smiled and bit your lip. “Flirt,” you accused. 
He grinned. “Guilty, honey, but you love it.” You rolled your eyes. “Aw, come on, bet you miss me.”
You hummed. “Well, I don’t think I could say no to that and be at all convincing.” He laughed. “Yeah, Joel, I do.”
“Don’t worry, honey, I miss you, too. Been thinkin’ about you all day.”
“Oh? What about?” You raised your eyebrows and tried to adopt an innocent look.
He eyed you, and somehow you could tell that he was checking you out. You moved the camera slightly farther away to give him a better view and he smirked. 
“Been thinkin’ about what I might do if I had you with me, tonight, instead of on the phone. Been thinkin’ about what we might do instead.” You licked your bottom lip in anticipation and you watched him watch you do it. Feeling suddenly inspired, you raised the hand not holding the phone and rested it lightly on your chest. His gaze darkened as he stared at it.
“Tell me what you were thinking about, Joel.” You wanted to sound commanding, but your voice was too breathy, too affected already.
“I thought about a lot of things, darlin’. Thought about how my pretty girl likes to be touched, to be held. Thought about all those pretty noises you made in my bed, ‘n how much I want to hear ‘em again.” Your breath caught and you watched your own mouth drop open on the screen. He grinned, almost feral. “Why don’t you take off that shirt, honey, let me see you.”
You nodded, and hid your own grin behind the shirt as you pulled it off. You’d been hopeful when you’d gotten dressed for bed a while ago, and you thought he’d probably like the lace you were hiding underneath. Before you could see him again you heard him inhale sharply and you threw your shirt across the room. 
“Fuck,” he whispered, and you saw that he was staring at your chest. Good. “Honey, s’that for me?” He sounded breathless and you loved it.
“Yes, Joel,” you smiled around your response. “Was hoping you’d call.” He groaned, eyes slipping shut briefly. 
“I need to see it, baby. Show me the whole thing.” You didn’t know what to do with the phone. You glanced around, grabbing some of your extra pillows to prop it up in front of you. It put him at your feet, looking at your legs and at an angle up your chest, to your face. If you opened your legs right now he’d be looking straight at your pussy through the lace of your lingerie. The idea sent a thrill through you.
“Honey, you are so fucking gorgeous,” he praised, eyes dancing over you as you laid in front of him. You grinned, propping yourself up on your pillows so he could see your face, too. 
“I think you need to take off those clothes too, cowboy.” He nodded and began to strip himself out of his clothes. You watched, intent.
Soon he was positioned similar to you, but propped on his side with the phone against a pillow in front of him. It gave you an amazing view of his bare chest and you turned your phone sideways to fully appreciate it. His hand slid across the bedspread towards the camera like he was reaching out to you.
“You want me to make you feel good, honey?” Your breath caught in your throat and you nodded. “Yeah? Want me to tell you what I’d do if I were there right now?”
“Yes, Joel,” you breathed.
“How’s this?” He looked you over. “Why don’t you spread your legs for me, honey, show me what I’m working with.” You smiled and did as he asked. He nodded. “That’s perfect, honey. Showing me everything. Showing me how good you look in that lace.” He sighed. “Move that pretty lace to the side for me, sweetheart. I need to see you.”
You scrambled to do as he asked, but realized he couldn’t see the details of your lingerie – the snaps as you undid the fastenings in the underwear were loud, and you knew he could hear them. “What–” he started, but you laid back again before he could finish, legs wide open for him to see. “Fuck, baby,” he breathed. “You are so gorgeous. What I wouldn’t give to touch you right now.” 
“How would you touch me, Joel?” You watched as he slid one of his hands into his briefs and gulped. 
He grinned. “Any way you want, honey. But I’d start with my fingers on your pussy. Look at you. Are you wet already?”
You nodded, then realized he might not see it, and said, “yes, Joel, always.” 
“Good girl. Spread that wet pussy for me baby, let me see.” 
You reached down to do so, and then realized the camera might be too far away for this. You rearranged the pillows, bringing him closer and you heard him groan as you fell back to do as he asked. With your left hand, you reached down to spread your folds wide for him, and then changed your mind and added your right. With both hands, you spread your pussy wide open and he moaned.
“Fucking hell, you are so fucking beautiful,” you heard him shift on the bed and wondered if he was touching himself. He must be. “I’ll never get enough of this, honey. Shit.” 
You hummed, using your left hand to keep yourself spread open but moving your fingers to begin circling your clit. You sighed into the feeling. “Joel, what now?” 
“Just like that, baby. I’d touch that pretty little clit, get her all worked up for me. Just like that.” He sounded breathless, just like you felt. “Tease you with my fingers. Maybe my tongue.” You moaned. “Yeah, did you like that? The way my tongue felt on your pussy? Inside?” 
You nodded, and managed, breathily, “yes, Joel.” 
“I know you did, honey. Could feel it. Could see it.” You could hear it now, the sound of him fucking his fist. It made heat rush up your spine. “Can’t wait to put my mouth on you again. I want to lick that pussy for hours next time. Just drown in it. Fuck.” 
The mental image made you think of what you’d been wanting, couldn’t stop thinking about, and it slipped out. “Next time is my turn.”
“Hmm, baby? What?”
“My turn,” you said in a stronger voice. “Next time I’m getting my mouth on your cock.”
“Fuck.” He sounded like he was falling apart. 
“Don’t even have to wait for our date,” you breathed, trying to speak loudly enough for him to hear you. “I want to get on my knees for you in my office, handsome. Lock the door and take my time, ah–”
Joel’s deep, growling groan cut you off. “Fuck. Is that what you want, hmm? My dirty girl?” You nodded, but you had no idea if he was looking at you. “Honey, you can have it whenever you want. You know how pretty you’d look, with your mouth around my cock?”
“Yes,” you moaned, but he didn’t stop talking.
“Would you like that, honey? Getting on your knees for me right there in your office? Where anyone might hear you?” His words washed over you as you felt the heat start to build from your core all the way up your spine.
“Joel–”
“Shit, baby, let me see you put your fingers inside. Just slip ‘em inside, honey.” You moved your left hand down from your clit and teased at your entrance. He hummed to encourage you, and you curled two fingers inside. “Such a good girl, hmm? Doing so good for me.” You felt a shiver travel down your spine. 
“Miss your hands, Joel.” The words left your mouth on a sigh, and you opened your eyes (when had you closed them?) to look for him. He had his hand wrapped tightly around his cock and he was staring straight at the camera.  
“I know you do, baby. Those little fingers are nothin’ like mine, right? Not enough to fill you up.” You shook your head. “I know, my pretty girl needs something bigger. Needs to take it.” You watched as he jacked himself faster, and you sped up your fingers in response. You nodded and whined out, “yes, Joel.”
He grinned. “That’s right, honey. Next time I see you I’ll give it to you.” You slipped another finger inside, imagining it. 
It was too much, and not enough. Suddenly you needed more, but you didn’t know what. You whined again, and you watched him furrow his brows.
“What do you need, sweetheart? I’ll give you whatever you want, you know that.” His eyes were dark under his brow and you watched as he twisted his hand around the head of his cock. “Why don’t you move those fingers faster on your little clit, baby. Don’t you want to be good and come for me?” Your breath hitched and you nodded.
“Yes, Joel,” your voice was barely there, but he heard it. 
“I know you do, honey. Let me see it. Let me see you come for me, just like that. Never seen anything so pretty.”
You could feel it coming, licking at the bottom of your spine like a fire about to catch. 
“Can’t wait to have you in my bed again, gorgeous. Can’t get it out of my mind, how good you looked. How right.” You shuddered as your orgasm came hurtling towards you. “Right where I want you, nowhere else. Now let me see it, baby. Give it to me. Come.”
It was like your body was waiting for him without knowing it. As soon as Joel commanded it, you did.
The orgasm washed down your body like the tide going out, pulling and dragging you under as you cried out his name. Your chest heaved as your muscles locked, spine arching off the bed. 
You rode it out, feeling sparks tingle along your arms and legs. Distantly you heard him choke out your name as he followed you, and your eyes flew open again to watch. You managed it just in time to see the thick ropes of his cum paint his naked chest. 
For a moment, neither of you spoke. You watched his chest rise and fall with heavy breaths, as labored as your own. Slowly your heels slid down the bed as your legs fell flat against your blankets and all the tension left your body. You weren’t sure if you could move your arms.
“Fuck, sweetheart,” Joel almost whispered, sounding wrecked. “I ain’t even touchin’ you and it’s the best I ever had. Better than I ever imagined.” You nodded.
“Me too, Joel.” He smiled and reached out for the camera to bring you closer. You did the same. Your eyes darted over his face as his smile grew.
“Honey, I swear I wasn’t planning to jump right in like that. Just can’t resist you.” You laughed. “You tired, darlin’?”
You sighed. “A little. Talk to me until I fall asleep?” He nodded. 
“Let’s clean up, meet back here.”
You did, and soon you were on your side under your covers with the phone propped up on the pillow in front of you. Joel smiled at you again, silently, and you finally narrowed your eyes and asked, “what?”
He shrugged. “Just lookin’, gorgeous.” You felt your cheeks heat, as always around this man. “Wish I were there with you.” 
“Me too, Joel.”
He smiled. “Can I come by for lunch on Monday? We’ll be getting back late tomorrow, or I’d just beg to come over then.”
“I wouldn’t stop you, even if it’s late.” 
“Don’t tempt me, darlin’.” You laughed. “I can see you fallin’ asleep.” You blinked your eyes wide and he smiled. “It’s ok, I just wanted to say something real quick.”
You yawned, but sat up a little so you’d hear what he wanted to say. “Can’t help that you gave me a workout, Joel.”
He grinned, but quickly sobered. “Sarah told me what you talked about. I– I’m glad you know. Just wanted you to know that. I wasn’t keeping it from you, or anything.”
You shook your head. “No, Joel, of course not. She told me how careful you are with talking about it.”
He ran a hand down his face and sighed. “I just want it to be up to her, really. But yeah, I’ll tell you all about it. There’s some stuff Sarah was too little to understand, between her mom and me. But maybe another time, when you aren’t about to fall asleep in front of me, honey.”
You shook your head again, trying to wake up. “I’m sorry, Joel.”
“No, it’s alright, I just wanted to say that. We got plenty of time, after all. I’ll see you Monday?”
You nodded. “Monday.”
“Goodnight, sweetheart.”
Sunday, November 3 Tenth week of the semester
Joel (7:32 AM): Have a good day, honey. Woke up in a good mood today, for some reason. Hope you did too. 
you (8:37 AM): 🥰 sure did, handsome
Joel (8:43 AM): Good. 😉
...
a/n: look Ellie to me is the type of teenager who would think the words ‘Emu War’ were hysterical and then lock herself into an absurd class project because of it. see you next week!
tag list: @harriedandharassed @jupiter-soups @ilovepedro @auteurdelabre @anoverwhelmingdin @myloveistoolittle @iknowisoundcrazy @beezusvreeland @screechingphantommaker @bigboiseason123 @joelalorian @untamedheart81 @ashleyfilm @jessthebaker @jeewrites @fluffygoffpanda @paleidiot @mithicakurogo @theclairvoyage @lizzie-cakes @islacharlotte @syd-djarin @copperhalfcent @vabeachazn @spacedoutdaydreamer
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written-in-flowers · 11 months
Text
A Night In: Hongjoong x Reader
Tumblr media
Pairing: Hongjoong x Fem!reader
AU: sugar baby, contracted partner 
Word Count: 3k
Genre: Smut, with bits of fluff 
Tags: poly relationship, polycule, oral sex (female receiving), breast play, nipple play, foreplay in general, face sitting, face riding, multiple orgasms, multiple positions, light dom/dub themes and undertones, protected sex, mentions of creampie, mentions of breeding kink/pregnancy, cock warming. 
Summary: As an Idol Companion, part of your job is going on tour with your boyfriends. Today, you’re in Singapore on a very gloomy, very rainy day. With his schedule completely free, Hongjoong has decided that he’s bored and wants to partake in his favorite meal: you. 
Previously on Companion
****
You don't always do it out of boredom. You mostly do it on nights when the mood is right or if one of you had a bad day or simply haven't for a while. But, today, with the gloomy clouds outside your wide hotel windows, you supposed it'd happen eventually. 
Being an Idol Companion, part of your job is to accompany them on tour. Following them around the States for their North American tour, you hopped around from airport to airport and hotel to hotel. The managers always gave you your own room should you want some peace and quiet, but you explained you didn’t really need your own room. You hated being alone, honestly, when you’re so accustomed to being with your boyfriends all the time. So, often you canceled your room and stayed with whichever member you wanted to stay with. You recalled your earlier years where you kept this strict schedule because you hated leaving any member without quality time, but as years went on, you learned jealousy isn’t a problem in your relationship. The group certainly had pairs that stuck out more than others: you often went out with Wooyoung and San during the week; Seonghwa and Hongjoong never minded taking you out together. It certainly made things easier. 
Today, you’d been paired with Hongjoong which suited you just fine. Laying beside him in his bed, his free schedule left you both with not much to do. You floated between working, watching tv, or watching videos on Hongjoong’s phone. It was only a matter of time before it came up. 
"I'm bored," Hongjoong said, his high voice soft underneath the fluffy blankets. You'd agreed to take your second nap of the day after lunch, but he clearly wasn’t that tired. He wrapped his arms around you and placed a kiss on your lips, "Sit on my face."
"I'm sorry, what?" You laughed, a bit shocked by the blatant request. 
"Sit on my face," he repeated, pecking your lips again lazily and holding you closer. “I want to taste you. I haven’t tasted it in so long.” 
Beneath the black t-shirt and shorts, his hard body pressed into your soft one. Petal lips caressed yours open into a deeper kiss, his tongue sliding over yours in a faint groan. Slim fingers roamed over your tanktop and panties and it became clear what caused this sudden suggestion once he grabbed at your bottom. You'd gone to bed in only a tank top and underwear to be more comfortable, so he felt your bare ass underneath the cotton panties you’d thrown on. Your tank top being skewed slightly from your sideways position didn’t help either. This only encouraged Hongjoong further, his hand sliding up your shirt to the curve of your breast. His gentle touch ignited the fire inside you. Your own hands instinctively went under his shirt; the smooth skin felt warm on your touch. The faint smell of his body wash titillated your senses, and you draped your leg over his side. Thoughts of his tongue rolling around your hard clit caused you to whimper into his mouth. When the tip of his tongue brushed over your bottom lip, you pushed against him gently. 
"I'm taking this as a 'yes'?" He smirked, returning the movement with one of his own. 
"Yes."
He rolled onto his back and let you climb on top. You gasped when you straddled his lap to find him already hard. The idea that you'd caused this aroused you further. You liked having this effect on him. Hongjoong’s hands slowly felt up your torso to your breasts, tugging down the loose tank top and cupping them both. This direct contact made you melt as you ground yourself into him. Nothing felt better than his hands. Nothing felt better than him. On lonely nights, you found yourself longing for his warmth and length. True, you’ll always have the other members, and you did crave them on particular nights, but Hongjoong…it felt different with him. Some nights your passion erupts into flames, and you lose yourselves in the heat of the moment. But, other days, like today, you both showed nothing but tenderness. You hovered over him, your body staying close to him, and you kissed him again. His hands started at your thighs, where he grabbed and smoothed over them gently. You rolled your hips into his hardon as he continued feeling up your body. 
“Remember our first time?” you asked as you kissed down his neck, recalling the memory as his hands slid under your tank top. 
“How can I forget it?” he replied, eyes falling closed at your kisses. “It was after we’d gone to the festival for chuseok. I took you to meet my parents, and we decided to go to this little festival my town was having.” He laughed softly, “I was so shy.”
“It was sweet,” you said, smiling. “I thought you might back out last minute.”
“I considered it,” he said, holding you close as he brought you to his lips. “But then, I saw how beautiful you looked in that pink and white hanbok, and I realized I wanted to be closer to you. I wanted to take that step with you,” he planted gentle kisses on your shoulder. 
“Maybe I should wear hanbok more often,” you teased, grinding into him and earning a low growl from his chest. “Since you liked it so much.”
“You could wear anything and I’d still want you to sit on my face,” he said, voice lowering as the lust returned and he cupped both your breasts again. 
Hongjoong latched his lips around one nipple, moaning as he suckled it for you, and it sent pulsations down your body. You felt his hardness grow between your thighs, the thin fabric of your bottoms becoming pure torture. Memories of your first time together warmed your heart, and made you want him even more. Hongjoong was the first to approach you about sex. You’d been dating the members for almost six months, and you’d mostly kissed a few of them by then. It’d happened so naturally. It happened as if some higher being decided you’d both take that intimate step closer. You first thought that perhaps your fondness and favor for Hongjoong came because he’d been the first of all eight. Yet, as time slowly moved on, that turned out to not be the case. 
You loved him. 
Truly.
Deeply. 
And you’d never admit that to anyone.
"Joongie," you whined, feeling his hot tongue lick your nipple. 
"Sit up here," he said. 
With a pat on your thigh, you slid up his torso to straddle his head instead. You braced yourself against the white headboard above him as his hot breath ghosted over your center. 
"My favorite part," you heard him growl as he left a light kiss right between your thighs. 
You giggled despite the wetness surging against his kisses. "I bet it is," you said, "Since you asked me so bluntly to sit on your face."
"Well, it's raining," he said, putting another kiss right where your clit is. You gasped once his kisses became deeper, and his tongue began rolling against the thin fabric. "And I'm bored," he mumbled. 
"Please, be bored more often then," you breathed at his lips kissing up and down the sides. 
Hongjoong hummed against each side which vibrated gently in the area. The combination of his wet tongue and the dampness of your center made your underwear even thinner. You could feel the exact position of his mouth on you; you felt every brush of his tongue and you gripped the cushioned headboard for support. When he threaded the fabric between your folds, he licked up both sides of your sex and occasionally dipped to your clit. You bit your lower lip to keep a moan from escaping you; you stayed still to let him work at his own pace, but you wished he’d go faster. Hongjoong’s tongue brought on a fresh need that burned inside you. Soon, he tugged your panties to the side, a hand keeping them hooked there, and sighed softly. 
"I remember the first time I ate you out like this" he said, lapping at the trickle of wetness nestled between your lips. "I worried you wouldn’t like it.”
“I did have to give you some instruction,” you grinned, shutting your eyes as he started peppering kisses on your damp sex. “But, my knees were shaking by the time I came. I love it when you-”
He cut you off with a gentle lick to your clit. Several more licks followed, never pushing the folds apart to reach the hard pearl inside, but rather letting it open itself. Hongjoong simply ran his tongue over the center languidly, focusing right against your clit in every stroke. You shuddered at the tip of his tongue sliding up and under the edges of it, as if tracing it for memory. He knew it sent slight sparks that had you mewling in minutes. When your sex became fully drenched, Hongjoong sucked whatever juices he could get from you. He hummed his delight at your taste, burying his face in it for more. Keeping you locked against him with his arms, he didn't hesitate to begin rapidly flicking your sensitive clit. The sudden change in pace had you wriggling in place to each little pang of pleasure he caused; your breathy moans turned into needy whimpers that slipped out of you. Your body craved more of him. Wagging the flat of his tongue over it, you reached down into his black hair to keep him still. Sensing the shift, Hongjoong stayed put as you gradually rode his tongue. 
"Just like that," he said, voice muffled by your pussy, "Ride my face like that."
Sliding his tongue inside you, you moved gently up and down. The tip of his nose brushed lightly to your clit, which only aroused you more. It wasn't enough. His rough tongue reached far, but not far enough. You needed more. His hands reached back behind you, and firmly grasped your ass. The light smack he gave to one cheek brought out a squeal you couldn't contain. He did this a few more times while you used his tongue, loving the sounds it produced from you. 
"Fuck me," you whimpered, "I want you to fuck me like you did the first time."
“I will, baby,” he replied in that sultry tone that gave you goosebumps. “I will, but I want you to cum in my mouth first.” 
Hearing such filth come from him in that voice made you tremble on top of him. He let you continue riding the full length of his tongue, the muscle almost cupping your sensitive bundle. He stopped you once or twice to flick it quickly before allowing you to keep going. That familiar pinching sensation struck you as the sensitivity built up, and you grabbed onto the headboard in front of you. You’re sure the member next door could hear your orgasm hit you right away. Hongjoong latched his mouth on your pussy as you shuddered, eyes closed tight as your body shook in his grip. Even once the initial climax passed, Hongjoong sucked up whatever fluids dripped from you and swallowed them. You needed more. 
He chuckled when he darted his tongue into your pussy. No doubt he felt your walls fluttering and clenching onto anything pushing inside. You reached behind you to feel his erection straining against his shorts and boxers. 
"Hongjoong," you whined as he prodded your entrance once more. You started stroking and rocking into him at the same time. "Stop teasing," you said, "And fuck me already."
"Now, baby, you know that's not how we ask for things we want," he said sternly, slapping your thigh sharply. "Ask me nicely like the sweetie I know you are."
"Hongjoonie?"
"Hm?"
"Can you please fuck me now?" You pouted, putting in your most innocent tone. "Please?"
"But I am doing that, angel," he said, pointedly pushing his tongue inside a moment before pulling away, "See? I'm using my tongue. Don't you like my tongue?"
"I do," you whined, "But I want your cock more."
Hongjoong pretended to think about it, rubbing your thighs and pecking your sex again. "I don't know," he said, pondering on it. "I'm enjoying just doing this. I haven't done it in a while."
"Your cock feels so much better though," you pleaded. "I love your tongue but I can never get enough of your dick."
"Well," he sighed, "When you put it that way and since you asked so nicely. I guess we could…"
You laughed together before he released you. He fumbled with the waistband of his pants a moment, before withdrawing his length from them. The shaft flushed red, it strained against his pelvis and twitched with arousal. The sight of him wearing nothing but his shirt, which ended up over his chest, was divine. Nothing you dreamt up could compare.  His groan was immediate when you rubbed yourself against him, your slick making the motion much easier than before. 
"Fuck," you breathed, feeling his shaft push between your folds, "I could do this…all day…" 
"I don't have a schedule today," he smirked, sitting up to put his arms around you, "And I can't imagine anything more fun than this."
You quickly fished a condom from the bag by the bed, and let him put it on before coming together again. You almost considered pretending to forget, so then he could cum in you again. You’d enjoyed it that night after the gangbang, and continuously thought about asking for it again. But, you know better and so does he. 
Angling himself with you, you both groaned with relief. Your walls squeezed around his cock, keeping it deep inside even when you started slowly bouncing in his lap. Hongjoong and you stayed close together, neither of you in a hurry to finish, and kissed. The juices still on his mouth and chin tinged your kiss, but neither of you cared. Kissing Hongjoong was enough. Your arms slipped around his in a passionate kiss, his body cradling you each time you met. You certainly would do this all day and night if he let you. Nothing felt as good as Kim Hongjoong, your boyfriend, deep inside you this way. Once you and him did it, it became difficult for either of you to stop. 
Something you felt with all the members. 
The sudden touch of his tip to your g-spot had you shaking and whining in his arms. Normally, when he sensed your orgasm, Hongjoong chased after it with steady strokes. This time, he palmed your breasts and kissed you while he let you work it yourself. His fingers brushed across both your nipples, bringing on more twinges of pleasure, and pinched them gently. The little motions on the sensitive peaks added to the torturous pace your orgasm approached.  He hardly moved his hips, though not out of laziness, but so he could watch you unravel in front of him. Hongjoong enjoyed watching you this way, whether with him or another member. He eventually sat back on his elbows once he heard your moans grow louder, and admired you as your orgasm approached. His eyes locked with yours, hazy and full of lust, and you didn't look away when you started saying his name woven into curses. One hand rubbed your clit in slow circles, and you saw him start shuddering. 
"Where…Where, baby?" Was all he could ask through his soft huffing. "Where do you want it?"
You thought about the gangbang again, and what Hongjoong did afterwards. You remembered how his semen leaked from you afterwards, getting onto your thighs and sheets. You haven't stopped thinking about it since it happened. The agency doctors cleared you of pregnancies or diseases, and advised abstaining from sex for a while but…
No. You couldn't. As much as the idea appealed to you, you can’t. A baby in your current situation could be bad for you and the members. 
But seven years together gave Hongjoong plenty of insight into you. "You want me to cum in you again, huh?" He smirked, rolling his thumb around your clit to help you along, "Disappointed the first time didn't take?" 
"Joongie," you giggled despite the pleasure building. "We can't."
"Alright, angel, but," he pushed himself further inside, "I want you to-to know…" he pulled you in close and said in your ear, "I'll cum in you whenever you want…as many times as you want. I loved cumming in you…so fucking much…"
But, into the condom it went. Your eyes closed, your orgasm stiffening your body in his grasp, you pictured his cum spraying thick streams against your walls. You wished he'd do it again just so you can feel that. Knowing he'd willingly do it made you want it more. Yet, you settled for pretending instead. 
Your orgasms subsided, but neither of you broke apart. You couldn't bring yourself to leave his embrace right away; not when you felt so close to him. You rested on top, enjoying the feel and warmth of his naked skin against yours; his cock remained inside you so you stayed firmly locked to him. You felt tempted to keep riding him even if he softened to have him a second time, but you couldn’t find it in you at the moment. His arms wrapped around your midsection, but he did not grope or fondle any part of you. He held you and you held him. 
Once again, that special connection that occurred when you first met blossomed between you. It scared you somewhat, you realized in his arms. 
You’ve been an Idol Companion for nine years, starting when you were nineteen up until now, and met Ateez two years into it. You dated smaller groups, and soloists before the boys. They all treated you well, took care of you and adored you. You enjoyed their company, and they, in return, enjoyed yours. You developed great friendships with some of them, and you’re always happy to see them if you cross paths. Yet, real love never came. The reality that your contract and your company is not forever constantly loomed over your head; it told you to never grow attached because it could end at any time. So, you never let yourself be too close or give too much of yourself away to your past partners. They had good memories with you; that is the most a Companion can really hope for….to be a memory. 
You didn’t want to be only a memory with Hongjoong. 
Or Seonghwa.
Or Yunho.
Or Yeosang. 
Or San, Mingi, Wooyoung or Jongho. 
You sometimes think about the day they disband and cry. It scares you. You never felt so attached to any one person or group before. You don’t think you could ever live without them, especially Hongjoong. Guilt filled you every time you thought that if they decided to end your relationship, you’d never recover. You can’t see yourself with anyone else. You knew if they broke up with you, the world around you would be bleak and lifeless. There'd be no Jongho to make a goofy joke or Yeosang to give a kind word when you feel like dying. No Wooyoung or San to shower you with kisses and compliments whenever you're insecure. Your twin towers, Yunho and Mingi…who would be there to partner with you on the dance floor? Seonghwa and Hongjoong, those two who are always there when you need them. You'd miss each and every one of them. This sad thought made you kiss Hongjoong again. This time it was deeper, longer, and full of everything you couldn’t put into words. You needed him to know how you might stop breathing if any of them left you. You didn’t break away as he rolled you onto your sides and brought the sheets over you both. 
“I love you too,” he whispered when he finally broke away, lips brushing against yours. “So much.”
“Never leave. Promise me.”
“I promise I won’t. None of us would ever leave you,” He snuggled you to him and said, “You’ve imprinted yourself on me, I know that much. Wherever I go, you’ll just be there with me too."
You shared a smile and another kiss before Hongjoong put on a movie for you to watch under the covers. Having this small bit of reassurance was enough to keep your spirits up the rest of the day. You spent most of it naked in bed, watching television or working on your laptops, and having sex a few times more. It turned out to be a perfect day. Around night time, someone knocked on the door. Hongjoong winked at you since he knew who it was. 
“I’m sorry, hyung,” he answered the door with fake innocence, “Did YN and I disturb you? I hope we weren’t being too loud. You know how YN gets when she’s really turned on.” 
“Shut up,” Seonghwa laughed, his reaction making you join in. 
You heard his heavy footsteps, and came face-to-face with one of the most handsome men you knew. Seonghwa stood in a black and white striped shirt tucked into black jeans. A simple look that suited him so well. He gave you a once over before smiling. 
“Hello beautiful,” he said, giving you a chaste kiss. “I haven’t seen you today. Hongjoong’s kept you hostage in here, huh?”
“He has,” you pouted, kneeling up and letting the sheets slide off you to reveal your naked body, “Please, Hwa, save me from him.”
His dark eyes swept over you once, then he smirked, “Oh, I’ll save you.”
Wrapping his arms around you, you both fell onto the bed and kissed. You could smell his faint cologne, and the body wash he’d used filling all of your senses. Naturally, your body wrapped around his and his kiss deepened. The feeling of his rough jeans against your bare sex tickled something inside you, but your body felt too worn out to react enough. Seonghwa, knowing your body better than most, picked up on this immediately and stopped. That. You didn’t want to lose that. How can you be expected to live without a partner like him now? 
“Where are you going all dressed up?” you asked, breaking away from him. 
“The maknaes want to go out for dinner,” he looked between you and Hongjoong, who threw on his shirt as Seonghwa spoke, “So I came to ask if you two wanted to come.”
You looked at Hongjoong, who said, “Sure. We’ll go. Where are we going?”
“They want sushi, so it’ll probably be a sushi place.”
“Ooh, sushi!” you cheered. You pecked Seonghwa’s lips and freed yourself from his embrace. “I need to shower, if we’re going to go.” 
“Alright,” Hongjoong said, kissing you next, “You go on ahead. I’ll be there in a minute.”
You walked into the bathroom, spacious and tiled in black and white, and turned on the shower. Voices from outside caught your attention, muffled by the door and the running water, but it comforted you all the same. Another thing you cannot live without now. You knew it’d end someday, because that’s simply how life has always been for you, but you intended to enjoy it for as long as possible. 
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sailor-aviator · 7 months
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Don't Hang'em Til Noon: Chapter Six
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Don't Hange'm Til Noon: Chapter Six
Pairing: Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Reader
Summary: Jake "Hangman" Seresin is a notorious leader within the Dagger posse of the old western territories of the United States. You, a recently orphaned socialite from the eastern seaboard, find yourself swept off to live with your older brother who has set down roots in said western territory. Determined to to make the best of your situation, what will you do when said outlaw sets his sights on you?
Warnings: Swearing, Smut (oral, f receiving), Jake Seresin. I think that's it?
Word Count: 6.4k (I'm so sorry, oh my god)
A/N: I have no words for this one. I warned y'all the train scene was gonna be something else. Also, shoutout to @im-just-ken for taking the time to do research for me and putting up with informing me about all of the different aspects of the Victorian Age!! You're the best!! As always, reboots, comments and likes are greatly appreciated!! 18+ ONLY!! Find me on AO3 under sailor_aviator!
Series Masterlist || DPU Masterlist || Jake "Hangman" Seresin Tag List
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The sky was overcast and the distant rumble of thunder sounded off in the distance. Autumn was beginning to give way to winter, and a new routine had settled in over the ranch in the three weeks since Jake had started working there.
“What are you doing here?” you had asked him with wide eyes. His smirk had widened at your flustered appearance. Your mind raced back to the events of the night before and you gave your tomatoes a run for their money with how red your cheeks must have been.
“Didn’t your brother tell you?” Jake asked, quirking an eyebrow at your brother. “I work here.”
“No, you don’t,” you gaped, glancing wildly back and forth between the two men. “Since when?”
“As of yesterday afternoon,” Benjamin sighed, casting you a sideways glance.
“But, why?”
“You made it pretty clear yesterday morning that you were only interested in men who work for a living,” he explained, cocking his head to the side with a bemused look in your direction.
“I didn’t mean here!” you spluttered.
“Well, Benji here was kind enough to offer me a job,” Jake nodded at the other man. “Isn’t that right, Benjamin?”
Benjamin let out a sigh that sounded something akin to “lovesick fools” as he turned to stalk off towards the barn. You stared after him helplessly before Jake cleared his throat, gaining your attention. His smirk was gone, replaced by a much more serious look as he gazed at you.
“I’m not going to cause any trouble,” he stated, shaking his head when you gave him a dubious look. “I mean it. I’m here to work and earn my livin’ like a man should. I give you my word.”
You studied him for a moment. His green eyes held a look of sincerity and a desperation for you to believe him. You sighed. “Alright, Jake. I’m taking you at your word.”
“Excellent,” he beamed down at you before giving you a stern look. “Now go on and get now. I’m tryin’ to work and you’re distracting me.”
You chuckled lightly, giving him a small smile. Jake’s stern expression dropped, a look of wonder replacing it as he stared at you. A moment passed before he broke out in a grin and turned his attention back towards the fence.
Now, an air of easiness had settled between the two of you as life on the ranch continued. Jake worked hard, and he never complained about what was asked of him, even going above and beyond on a couple of occasions. You had even found him napping in the barn one day after a night where the coyotes had been particularly active, and you had allowed the poor man to catch up on his rest in thanks.
You were on your knees in the garden, digging up the onions you had planted a while ago, when you heard the sound of a horse making its way up the path to your home. Looking up, you saw U.S. Marshal Simpson making his way to you. You wiped the sweat from your brow, stumbling to your feet despite the numbness that had paralyzed your limbs from sitting on them for too long. Beau Simpson smiled at you as he dismounted, walking over to meet you by the fence to your garden.
“Marshal Simpson,” you greeted politely.
“Afternoon, Scout,” he said. “Please, call my Beau.”
“Of course,” you smiled. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“Well, I was hopin’ you could help me out with something.”
“And what is that?”
He looked out to the empty pasture before glancing at you from the corner of his eye. “Was hoping you could tell me where I might find Jake Seresin.”
Your blood ran cold. You knew he was probably out with the others, moving the cattle in from the far pasture, but you weren’t about to tell Beau Simpson that.
“And why would you think that, Beau?”
He fixed you with a look that said he knew you knew why he’d think that, but he played along. “Well, amongst other things, I heard he managed to get himself a job here against your brother’s better judgement.”
“You shouldn’t gossip, Beau. It’s the Devil’s pastime.”
He let out a laugh at that one. “Well, from what I hear, it’s hardly gossip, Scout, but alright. You seen him around?”
“Can’t say that I have,” you responded cooly, picking at the dirt underneath your fingernails. It wasn’t a lie, exactly. You had told him the truth, you reasoned with yourself. You hadn’t seen Jake that day. Beau was quiet for a moment, studying you thoughtfully before letting out a long sigh.
“You should be careful, Scout,” he began, pushing up off the railing. “It won’t do you any good to get tangled up with someone who’s due a hanging. You might end up caught in the rope yourself, if you aren’t careful.”
You didn’t respond. He tipped his hat to you before moving towards his horse. You watched as he mounted and made his way back towards town. You stared after him long after he disappeared from sight before walking slowly back into the house. You went upstairs to wash the dirt from your face and hands before setting out to make dinner. It was a couple of hours before the four ranch hands made their way through the back door, laughing and smiling the entire way. You scowled at the group of men.
“What do you all think you’re doing?” you snapped. Four pairs of wide, shocked eyes turned to look at you, the laughter and chatter stopping immediately. You glared down at the floor where their boots had left muddy shoe prints on the hardwood. They followed your gaze before slowly looking back up at you with sheepish grins.
“Sorry, Scout,” Levi apologize, already moving back towards the door. “We’ll go get washed up outside.”
The others murmured their agreement and filed out after him. Jake was the last to move for the door, and you quickly grabbed his hand, pulling him back. He turned to stare at you, surprise turning into a question.
“I need to talk to you,” you said. He smiled down at you with a wicked gleam in his eyes.
“Oh yeah, honey girl?” he drawled. “What about?”
“Marshal Simpson came by today.”
“Cyclone?” Jake asked, taken aback. “What did he want?”
You dropped his hand, and moved towards the stove where you had left dinner unattended momentarily. “Came by to ask if I had seen you.”
“Oh?” he questioned, leaning up against the wall by the door, watching you with an unreadable expression on his face. You hummed, nodding.
“Don’t worry, I told him I didn’t know where you were.”
He seemed surprised at that, pushing off from the wall and coming to stand by your side. “What?”
“I told him I hadn’t seen you. It wasn’t a lie, technically,” You rushed out. Jake stared at you incredulously before frowning.
“You’re not telling me something,” he said, narrowing his eyes at you. You glanced at him before looking back down at the pot of soup you were stirring. “What else did he say to you?”
You sighed and recounted what Beau had said. Jake swore, turning and running a hand through his hair. “I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about,” you offered in a huff. Jake whirled back to look at you, worry lines crinkling his brow.
“Nothing to worry about?” he laughed humorlessly. “Scout, don’t you know a threat when you hear one?”
“I don’t see why he would be threatening me,” you argued, hands on your hips. “I’ve done nothing wrong.”
“It doesn’t matter if you’ve done something or not, sweetheart,” he groaned out. “He knows I work here, and he knows what to go after now.”
“I don’t understand,” you frowned. “You weren’t this worried when I mentioned him before. Why are you now? What changed?”
Jake stared at you for a moment. He moved to say something, but the door swung open as the other ranch hands filed in.
“You better go get washed up quick, Hangman,” Phillip laughed, clapping Jake on the back before taking a seat at the table. “Might not be any food left for you when you get back.”
Jake gave a half-hearted smile to the other man before giving you one last look and walking out the back door.
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The next morning, business continued on as usual. You had just hung the laundry out to dry when you heard the front door creak open with a thud as it hit the wall.
“Scout!”
You walked into the parlor where Benjamin stood, grinning wide as he searched for you. His smile grew impossibly wider as his eyes finally landed on you. He raised his hand up to reveal an envelope, and he shook it in excitement.
“Benji, wha-”
“It’s a letter from Aunt Jo!” he cried excitedly. You let out a happy cry of your own as you rushed forward. Your Aunt Josephine had been your mother’s older sister, and you had spent many days running around in her orchard growing up. She was a kind woman, and she had helped to fill the void of your mother’s passing. It had been hard to leave her behind.
“Have you opened it?” You were practically vibrating from excitement. Benjamin shook his head.
“No, I wanted to read it with you.”
“Well, go on!” you laughed, gesturing for him to open it. He did so, eyes scanning the paper quickly.
“She wants us to come for a visit,” he smiled, looking up at you. Your grin matched his own as you hopped excitedly.
“What’s going on here?”
The both of you turned to see Jake standing in the doorway with an amused glint in his eyes as he watched the two of you giggle like school children. You felt heat rise to your cheeks.
“Our Aunt Josephine wrote to us,” you explained in a hurry. “She wants us to come visit.”
“Yeah?” Jake grinned at your enthusiasm. “When?”
“Says she wants us to come up for Christmas,” Benjamin frowned, scanning the letter over. Your heart jumped at the idea of seeing a white Christmas again. You thought it was one of the many things you had given up when you moved out west to Maverick. Benjamin lowered the letter with a grim expression. “I can’t go.”
“What?” you cried, looking over at him. “What do you mean?”
“I mean,” he said slowly, “that I can’t go. There’s too much work to be done here on the ranch, and I can’t take the weeks off from the firm.”
“Oh,” you said dejectedly. “Well, we’ll have to write back to Aunt Jo to tell her we’ll come at another time, then.”
“No, Scout,” Benjamin said firmly. “Just because I can’t go, doesn’t mean you shouldn’t. I know how much you miss it there, and the trip will mean so much more to you than it will me, anyway. No, I insist. You’re going.”
“But, Benji-”
“I’ve already made up my mind,” he said, offering you a smile. “Now we just need to find someone to go with you. Ah, but Hondo and Joel aren’t do back for weeks now. Maybe I could get Tom to-”
“I’ll do it.”
Both of you turned to look at Jake. His eyes darted between the two of you as you gaped at him.
“What?” Benjamin questioned. Jake cleared his throat and stood up a little straighter.
“I’ll go with her,” he said firmly. Your eyes darted to Benjamin who was already looking at you. He cocked his head as if to say that he was okay with it if you were. You bit your lip, mulling your options over. You worried about the implications that might arise at having a man who wasn’t family show up with you in Baltimore. But you knew that Jake could be trusted. He had shown you the kind of man he was capable of being, and you trusted him enough by this point to know you would be safe.
“Yes,” you said finally. “Alright, it’ll be the two of us.”
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Two days later you were adding the final items to your bag for your journey. Benjamin had already sent a reply back to your Aunt Josephine explaining the circumstances, but had told her you were eagerly preparing for your trip. You had just placed your last skirt in your bag when something caught your eye. You glanced up to see the wooden horse still standing proudly on your end table. You chewed on your bottom lip, slowly walking over to grab the figurine. You smoothed over the back of it before turning it over in your hand to stare at the initials that were carved into its belly.
“Scout? The cart is ready, and Benjamin wanted me to-”
You looked up to see Jake standing in your doorway. His eyes were focused on the wooden statue in your hand before they slowly traveled up to look into your eyes.
“You kept it?”
“Of course I kept it,” you scowled at him. “Why wouldn’t I?”
He shrugged, a smile tugging on the corners of his lips. “You were just so mad at me then. I didn’t think you’d care enough to keep it.”
“Well,” you mumbled, trying to come up with something, anything to weasel your way out of the conversation. “I did.”
Jake studied you for a moment before smiling. “You almost done packin’? Your brother’s waiting downstairs to send us off.”
“Yes,” you breathed, thankful for the out he had offered you. “You go on ahead. I’ll be down in just a minute.”
He nodded before turning and walking off. You let out a sigh, looking back down at the wooden horse. You walked back towards the foot of your bed where your bag lay, and gently placed it on top before closing the clutch and heading downstairs.
The first couple of days passed without incident. Benjamin had wished you to a safe and pleasant journey, watching you as Jake drove the cart down the street. The two of you camped out under the stars of the wilderness, Jake making sure you were plenty warm and comfortable in the back of the cart before settling down on the blanket he would set by the fire.
“You don’t have to sleep on the ground,” you told him on the third night. He had looked up to where you hung over the side of the cart to look at him. “There’s more than enough room to fit the both of us comfortably.”
Jake had let out a low laugh before giving you a look that made your core clench. “Honey girl, I already have to sit next to you during the day. I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands to myself if I didn’t have this time to cool down.”
You blushed at his words and had quickly rolled over to try and get some sleep.
Jake was a surprisingly good cook, and an even better shot. The two of you survived off the bread and produce you had purchased from the general store as well as the rabbits Jake managed to shoot during your camp-outs. By the fifth day, you had run out of polite conversation topics, and the two of you drifted towards more personal ones.
“Do you have any siblings?” you asked him that afternoon. Jake quirked an eyebrow at you in amusement. “What?”
“You wanna know if I have any siblings?”
“You already know about Benjamin,” you pointed out. “I think it’s only fair if I know about any siblings you have.”
“Alright, Scout,” he hummed with a smile. “If you must know, I have an older sister.”
“What’s her name?”
“Sarah,” he smiled. “She’s about two years older than me, and she has a son named Billy who’s a little terror of a kid.”
He smiled down at you, and you returned the gesture. He turned his head back to the road and frowned. “Her husband died just after Billy was born. So, I’ve been tryin’ to help her out where I can. She works in town as a seamstress, but the hours are long, and the pay is shit.”
“What about your parents?” you asked, and he gave you a wry smile.
“They died in the scarlet fever epidemic that swept through Maverick years back. The same one that took out Rooster’s mama and daddy and Bob’s pops. It was a real mess there for a while, but Mav and Penny took us all in, gave us a roof over our heads and put food in our bellies. I don’t think any of us were really much of the same after that, though.”
“Jake,” your heart broke for him. “That’s awful. I’m so sorry.”
“Ain’t nothin’ for you to be sorry ‘bout, sweet girl. We get along just fine now. Jus’ wish my sister didn’t have to work so damn hard all the time, is all. Don’t wanna see her work herself into an early grave.”
You hesitated. “Is that why you do what you do? Steal, I mean.”
Jake didn’t answer for a moment. “That’s one reason. I’d do anything for my sister and that kid of hers. The money and treasures I get from doin’ all those jobs mostly goes to help her out.”
“And the other reason?” you asked. Jake pursed his lips, contemplating his next words.
“Rooster was real torn up about his parents. I, at least, had Sarah. Bradley? He didn’t have anyone. Think something died in him the day he lost the both of’em. He started acting out when we got older, and before long he was out robbin’ banks and all sorts of other shit. I think a part of him just wanted to hurt the world the same way it hurt him, and he decided that that meant he had to take. Take what isn’t his, and keep taking before the world takes from him again.”
“And what about you? Why did you join him? Why did any of you?”
“We’re not goin’ to leave a friend to walk through hell alone,” he stated with a shrug of his shoulders. You studied his profile for a moment.
“You’re a good man, Jake Seresin.”
You saw the tips of his ears flush a bright crimson. He cleared his throat and turned to look at you with a playful glare.
“Alright, you’re turn,” he smirked. “Which of my friends do you like the most? And if you say Javy, I’m dumping you on the side of the road.”
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Steam billowed as a train whistle sounded on the platform. Jake was handing your luggage over to the conductor as you surveyed the station. It was still the same as when you had arrived months ago, but you felt that you yourself had changed. You supposed you had.
“Are you ready? Guy says we’re leavin’ in a couple of minutes,” Jake said as he sidled up to you, placing a gentle arm around your shoulder.
“Yes, I’m ready,” you smiled at him, allowing him to steer you towards the train car. The conductor reached out a hand to you, and you took it gratefully. You felt your cheeks flush as Jake laid his hands gently on your hips, lifting you onto the step as the conductor pulled you up. Jake followed after you, and the two of you quickly found seats near the middle of the car. You sat by the window as Jake sat across from you just as the train began to lurch forward. Jake jumped at the sudden movement, shoulders and face tense.
“Are you alright?” You asked him, reaching out to rest your hand on top of his. He glanced at you, then took a deep breath to relax.
“Jus’ never been on one of these before,” he answered, offering you a nervous smile. You returned the smile, patting his hand before pulling away.
“Yes, I suppose it can be a tad nerve-wrecking when you’re not used to it.”
“You travel a lot?” he asked you, watching as you turned to look out the window.
You shrugged. “Not so much anymore. I used to take trips with my friends up to New York every now and then.”
“You must miss it,” he murmured, eyes never leaving you. You looked at him.
“I miss them.”
Jake frowned, his turn to look out the window at the landscape that rushed past you. “Well, you’ll see’em soon enough.”
You weren’t sure how to respond, but before you could, and older woman and her husband joined you in your seats. Jake was polite, but you could sense something was off with him as his smile never quite reached his eyes. You retired for the evening, wishing the older couple a pleasant evening as Jake rose to walk you to your sleeping quarters. You stopped in front of the door to your cabin, looking up at Jake with a coy smile.
“I’m fairly certain that couple thinks we’re married,” you chuckled. Jake’s face remained stoic as he watched you.
“Would that be so bad?” he asked softly, voice barely above a whisper. Your smile dropped as your eyes widened up at him.
“What?”
Jake watched you for another half second before shaking his head with a sigh.
“Nothing,” he muttered, knocking his fist on the doorframe twice before turning to head to his own cabin. “Goodnight, Scout.”
You watched him as he closed his door behind him before turning into your own cabin, shutting the door behind you.
The next morning you found yourself only hours away from St.Louis. You dressed slowly before walking over to Jake’s cabin. When he didn’t answer your knock, you decided to see if he had gone on ahead. You found him minutes later in the dining car, nursing a cup of coffee. He looked tired, bags heavy under his eyes as he looked out the window. A couple of women at the table next to him were casting him barely concealed glances as they giggled amongst each other. You marched down the aisle and sat in the seat across from him. He started at your entry, but relaxed when he realized it was you.
“You’re up early this morning,” you commented. He hummed at you, taking another sip from his coffee. You pressed on. “Are you usually such an early riser?”
“Yeah, I suppose so,” he grumbled, and you pursed your lips.
“Is something the matter?” you asked. He glanced at you.
“Do you ever think about getting married?”
The question caught you off guard, and you balked before fixing him with a curious look.
“Sometimes,” you admitted slowly. “I suppose most girls do. It’s something we’re raised to do, after all.”
“But do you want to?” he asked, eyes twinkling.
“Yes,” you stated, shifting in your seat. “I do. Someday.”
“And what about the groom? Who is it you want to spend the rest of your life with?”
You scowled at him. “Why are you suddenly asking me this?”
Jake just stared at you, waiting for you to continue. You huffed. “I suppose I’ve never really given it too much thought. I knew I would have to get married one day, and I assumed that one day I might fall in love with someone. There were several young men pushed for me to choose, but I suppose none of them ever felt right.”
“What about you?” you asked suddenly. “Have you ever thought about marriage?”
“Me?” Jake laughed, leaning back in his seat. “Not really. Never thought I’d like anyone enough to want to spend the rest of my life with them. Used to laugh at the idea of ever finding someone who could make me want to settle down.”
“And now?”
Jake’s expression remained amused, but there was a hint of an emotion behind his eyes that, try as you might, you couldn’t place. Jake glanced out the window and made to stand up. “Looks like we’re here.”
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The train ride from St. Louis to Baltimore started off much of the same, except this time you were seated next to a group of young women who openly gawked and giggled over the handsome man across from you. You felt a rush of irritation as one dropped her hand fan in the aisle. Jake reached down to grab it for her, staring up at her with a polite smile.
“I think you dropped this,” he offered as she took it. Your blood boiled when she batted her eyes at him with a coy smile.
“Thank you, handsome,” she grinned as her friends broke out into another round of giggles. Jake cleared his throat with a wince as he leaned back into his seat. You stood up abruptly, and Jake was left scrambling to his feet.
“I’m tired,” you announced, making a pointed effort to not look at the girls. “I’m going to bed.”
“Sounds like a good idea,” Jake agreed, following down the aisle after you. Neither of you said a word to the other as you made your way towards your cabin for the evening. Stopping in front of the door, you turned to look at Jake.
“This is me,” you said. Jake looked at the number on the cabin and then down at the ticket in his hand.
“That can’t be right,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair.
“What?” you frowned. Jake looked up at you and then back down to his ticket before letting out a sigh.
“Ticket says this is my cabin too.”
“What?” you shrieked, snatching the ticket from his hand. “Give me that.”
You stared down at the black ink, willing the information to change. You glanced at Jake who was still watching you, waiting for you to come to terms with the situation.
“What do you want to do?” he asked finally.
“Well, we’ll just have to find the conductor and get this mess sorted out.”
“Alright,” he nodded. “I’ll go try and find him. You stay here.”
A half hour passed before Jake slunk back to the cabin looking defeated. He offered you an apologetic smile. “I couldn’t find him.”
You chewed on your bottom lip before letting out a heavy sigh.
“I suppose it can’t be helped,” you muttered, turning to open the door. “Come on, then.”
“What?” He said, eyes growing wide.
“Look,” you gritted out as you stepped through the door, “we can be adults about this. It’s one night.”
“But-”
“Would you rather sleep out here?” You argued. Jake didn’t respond. “That’s what I thought. Now come on.”
Jake followed you into the cabin silently, closing the door behind him. You moved to open your luggage that had been placed inside when you boarded, taking out your nightdress. You turned to see Jake still staring at you. The two of you stood in the tiny space facing each other for a moment.
“I need to change,” you whispered, swallowing thickly.
“Yeah, I’ll just,” Jake stuttered, moving to turn.
“Don’t look,” you threw in for good measure, earning a nervous chuckle from the man in front of you. You turned around, quickly undressing before throwing your nightdress on. You turned back around to see Jake still facing the door.
“Okay,” you breathed. “I’m decent.”
Jake turned around to face you, and you heard his breath catch in his throat. He slowly looked you up and down before meeting your gaze again. “My turn.”
You watched as Jake removed his shirt. You blushed when he pushed his pants down to reveal the white, knee-length undergarments he wore. You took in the smattering of blond hair that covered his broad chest, almost blending in with the gold of his skin. Jake cleared his throat and glanced at the bed.
“How do you wanna,” he trailed off. You looked at the bed and made your decision. You brushed past him, moving to lay down. You laid back, glancing up at him shyly. Jake watched you in a reverie, breaths coming out quick and stuttered as he looked down at you. He turned to dim the gas lamp, casting the room in darkness save for the moonlight that filtered through the window. Silently, slowly, he laid down in the bed next to you.
The two of you laid in silence for almost an hour, Jake’s back to you as you fidgeted with your fingers.
“Jake?” you called out softly. “Are you still awake?”
“Yes.”
You rolled onto your side, facing his back. “You never answered my question.”
Jake rolled over so that you two were now facing each other. “What question is that, pretty girl?”
“Back at the ranch, when I told you what Beau said, I asked you why you were suddenly so worried about him when you weren’t before.”
Jake didn’t say anything for a moment. “Do you know why they call him ‘Cyclone?’”
You shook your head.
“They call him that because when he sets his mind on a job, he comes in with a fury, leaving nothing behind, just like a tropical storm.”
“Oh,” you breathed.
“Yeah,” Jake agreed, reaching up to cup your cheek.
“Are you scared?” you asked him quietly, and he gave you a wry smile.
“Only of something happening to you, sweet girl.”
You reached up to run your fingertips over his cheek, running them down until they brushed over his lips. He parted them slightly, looking at you with eyes ablaze. Before you could think on it, you surged forward, planting your lips on his. Jake quickly deepened the kiss, bringing his other hand up to your hip to pull you close. He grabbed the flesh of your thigh as he lifted your leg up to drape over his waist. You parted your lips at the movement, and he took advantage of it, licking into your mouth with a desperation that left your head dizzy. You moaned into his mouth, pushing yourself against him as he slowly guided you up into a sitting position.
You grabbed at any part of him that you could reach, whining when he broke the kiss. He chuckled as you chased his lips with your own, but fixed you with a serious look in his eye.
“Tell me to stop,” he said softly, hand skimming the ends of your nightdress. “Tell me to stop, and I swear I will, y/n.”
“Don’t stop,” you responded breathlessly. Jake leaned in to grant you another kiss before pulling back to lift your dress over your head. The cool air of the night washed over you, and you suddenly felt exposed as he drank in your naked form. You moved to cover yourself, but he grabbed your arms, gently leaning you back down onto the bed as he hovered over you.
“Don’t,” he said firmly, the green of his eyes swallowed by the blacks of his pupils. “I want to look at you.”
You watched him as he drank in your form, hands softly gliding down to rest on your hips. A small smile played at the edge of his lips.
“You look so pretty for me, honey girl,” he hummed. Your breath caught in your throat as he parted your legs. Leaning back to take all of you in, his eyes blazed with want as he stared down at your most intimate part. He surged forward, capturing your lips in an unexpected kiss before trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down the column of your neck. He sucked a bruising kiss onto the base of your neck, you gasped as you felt the hard, covered length of him push against your dripping core. One of his hands reached up to grasp your breast as his mouth encased around one of your nipples. You mewled, thoughtlessly pushing your chest up into his warm mouth. He pulled off of your hardening peak with a low chuckle.
“You gotta be quiet, pretty girl,” he smirked down at you, fingers still toying with the nipple that hadn’t just been in his mouth. “Don’t want to disturb the other passengers, do we?”
He didn’t give you a chance to answer before his mouth was attached back to you. You squirmed underneath him, desperate for more of the mind-numbing pleasure you knew he could give you. Jake was in no hurry, though. He took his time lapping at your sensitive bud before switching his attention to the other. Your head fell back in frustration as your hands moved up to tug on his blond strands.
“Jake, please” you moaned. Jake gave you a playful glare before giving a particularly hard pinch to your breast that had you crying out.
“Greedy girl,” he rumbled, leaning up to kiss you, nipping at your bottom lip. “You’ll take what I give you, understand?”
You nodded your head desperately, and Jake hummed in approval. Mercifully, he trailed his lips down your body, giving fleeting sucks and nips to your nipples before moving further down. Your breath hitched as he shifted down the bed, face level with the junction of your legs. He teased open-mouthed kisses up and down your thighs, never touching you where you wanted him most, and you began to squirm yet again. Jake moved to wrap his arms around your thighs, caging them in his hold so that you couldn’t move. He nuzzled up into your mound before making eye contact with you.
“Been thinkin’ about this for weeks, honey girl,” he murmured, breath fanning over you and making you cry out. “Been thinkin’ about how sweet you tasted that night in the alley. Fucked my hand at the thought about all those little noises you made jus’ for me as I made you fall apart on my fingers. Fuck, you squeezed me so tight. Imagined what it would be like to have my cock buried in this pretty pussy instead of my fingers.”
“Jake!” you cried out at his words. You let out another cry as he snaked a finger around to run gently run through your folds.
“Look at you, darlin’. I’ve barely touched you and you’re already soaked. You’re practically drippin’ on the bed for me. The thought of takin’ my fat cock inside of you makin’ you this wet? Jesus, I see you clenching. This greedy, little cunt is practically beggin’ for me.”
“Jakey, please,” you sobbed, feeling the tears start to prickle behind your eyes. Jake continued his torture, finger now grazing lightly over your clit, and your hips started to buck up into him before he pushed them back down.
“Uh, uh, sweetheart,” he chided, casting you a light glare. “You take what I give you, remember?”
You whined as he began to draw tiny figure eights on your sensitive nub.
“That’s it, darlin’. You just lie back and take it. Let Jakey make you feel good, yeah?” he drawled, sinking a finger into you. He let out a low groan as you clenched tightly around the digit. “Fuck, pretty girl. Love the way you grip me like that. My pretty pussy is just beggin’ for me to fill her up, huh?”
You felt yourself clench at the thought, and he chuckled, adding a second finger.
“Yeah, she likes the sound of that. Loves the idea of me pumpin’ into you until I give you everythin’ I have to give.”
You cried out when he pulled out of you, but his fingers were quickly replaced with the feel of his tongue diving into you. You raised your hand to bite your fist in an attempt to keep quiet. He thrust his fingers back into you as his mouth moved to nurse on your clit, sending you headfirst towards your orgasm.
“Been thinkin’ about this since I tasted you the first time, honey girl. Couldn’t wait to get my mouth on you and get my fix. Never gonna get my fix, though. Taste too good for me to ever have my fill o’ you,” he rasped. You watched his hips rut into the mattress as he feasted on you, your slick coating his lips as he nipped at your bud. Your legs began to shake as he continued to eat you out like a man starved.
“Jakey,” you cried out as his fingers hit that spongy spot inside of you that made you see stars.
“Yeah, honey? Did I find your special spot again? Fuck, you’re squeezin’ me so tight. Can’t wait to sink my cock into you and fill you up with my cum. You want that? You want me to fill you up pretty girl?” he asked you breathlessly, the pace of his hips quickening against the mattress. “That’s okay, you don’t gotta answer me. Your cunt is doin’ all the talkin’ for you. She’s weepin’ for me to pump my load into you, get you nice and swollen with my baby.”
The tears flowed freely down your cheeks now. You flung a hand over your face, but Jake was having none of it.
“Look at me, sugar. Wanna see your face as you fall apart for me. Fuck, I’m gonna keep you so full. Gonna keep you all nice and round while I take care of you. Gonna take care of my gorgeous, little wifey.”
You cried out as your vision went white, his words flinging you over the edge. You watched his own eyes widen as you came apart, his hips stuttering against the mattress as he let out a whimper into your core. You ground your hips down into him as you rode out your high, and Jake grunted as his hips stilled, shaking with the strain.
You slowly came back to yourself, a sheen of sweat covering your body as Jake pressed soft, gentle kisses up the length of your body before pressing reaching up to stroke your cheek affectionately. You met his gaze, his green eyes watching you. Your chest rose quickly as you fought to control your breathing, and Jake gave you a small smile before placing a chaste kiss to your lips.
“Sleep now, honey girl,” he whispered as he dragged the blanket over you. You reached out for him, and he pulled you into his chest with a slight chuckle and one last kiss to the top of your head.
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