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queers-gambit · 7 months

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Two to Tango

prompt: the aftermath of Carmy's words seem to rattle him more than you.

pairing: Carmen 'Carmy' Berzatto x female!reader pairing: Carmy x Peach

fandom masterlist: FX's The Bear

word count: 5.4k+

note: author still does not want any messages about glorifying toxic relationships. typically, but not always, when someone calls you clingy, it's weaponized and is abusive. this fic is not meant to portray that! it’s meant to show internal agony and the journey to forgiveness - Carmy apologizes 'cause he's actually sorry!

warnings: cursing, reader folds 'cause who wouldn't for the sweet puppy that is Carmy, hurt and comfort, small angst, small fluff, we talk about Mikey a bit, author uses writing as therapy, relationship angst...? barely edited.

part one: God's Plan

browse Clingy Baby collection masterlist here

"It's six in the Goddamn morning!" You raged at your front door, stomping up to it, "Are you dumb in the fucking head!? Who the fuck in their right mind knocks like the Goddamn cops at six in the fucking morning!?"

You whipped it open, the force causing a breeze of air to blow your bedridden hair back and highlight your exhaustion. "Hiya, sunshine," Richie beamed down at you, holding up a paper bag, offering, "donut?"

"Richie!? I know you're not fuckin' stupid, baby boy, so, what the fuck is wrong with you? It's six in the morning on my day off - do you want to give me a reason to punch you? You hate your nose that much?"

He tisked at you mockingly, "Someone's cranky this morning."

"What do you want?"

"You're not gonna invite me in for coffee? I brought us donuts! See? C'mon, Peach," He jostled the bag around with a shit-eating, closed-lip smile. "Dooonuts," he taunted.

You had to pause, count to ten in your head, then sigh through your nose. You offered kindly, "Richie? Would you like to come in for some coffee? Since you kindly brought donuts?"

He grinned, "Awwh, thanks, Peach, thats real nice of yah! Don't mind if I do!"

"Don't call me that," you snapped, leading him into your kitchen. The door shut and locked.

"Oh, someone's touchy."

"What do you fucking want?" You whined, pouring two mugs of hot coffee. "You come bangin' at my door, early ass in the mornin'. You better have a good-ass reason," you slid the mug over the counter he sat at. "Cream or sugar?"

He shook his head, fiddling with the mug for a moment before admitting as you dressed up your own coffee, "Uh, so... It's Carmy."

You paused, taking a slow sip from your mug, waiting for more that wouldn't come. So, you quietly asked, "What about Carmy?"

"He's falling apart."

"O...Kay?"

"Peach," he frowned, "you know that your relationship was the only thing that made sense to him - he's falling apart without you there."

"Okay," you nodded, taking another swallow of hot bean-water.

"That's it? Nothing else to say? Dude's losin' his fuckin' shit, Peach. Okay? Barely leaves the restaurant, h-he's all manic and shit, doesn't stop cookin', isn't gettin' a lotta sleep, and Syd said his clothes are all over the apartment - he's not keeping himself in order."

"So, he needs his mother?"

Richie glared with a clenched jaw, "Not fuckin' funny, Peach."

"I'm not laughing."

"He needs you."

"I'd argue otherwise, he's a grown fuckin' man who doesn't need to be taken care of. Look, if he was man enough to call me a desperate, clingy bitch, he's man enough to deal with the fallout of his words."

"Look, hey, hey, hey, I'm not sayin' he's not in the wrong," he waved his hands, eyes widening, "actually, the exact opposite. We all chewed his ass out when we found out what he fuckin' said, Peach. And look, I've never seen Fak that fuckin' angry."

You semi-pouted your bottom lip, "Really?"

"Fak was ready to strangle Carmy, I think," Richie sighed. "I yelled, Sugar yelled, Fak lost his shit, Syd even cornered him in the office and laid into him..."

"I thought she didn't like me," you whispered.

"She's getting to know you, but she likes you," he assured, "and it's obvious the affect you have on Carmy. We all respect that - "

"Oh, great, so everyone except the one person who needs to respect our relationship - respects it!"

Richie frowned at you, nodding in agreement before admitting, "He's a dumb fuckin' idiot, Peach, we all know that, but the dude is losing it without you."

"Sucks to suck."

"Peach," he groaned, slapping his hands to the counter with exasperation. "Don't you love him?"

"Of course I love him, but I also have this little thing called self-respect! He said some shit - shit he can't ever take back. The fuck I look like going back to him when he's the one in the wrong!? I don't hate myself that much, and despite what he says, I'm not that desperate for love."

"How is talking to the man you love - "

"Richie," you paused him, "your Cousin said a lot of hurtful shit. It's been weeks, okay? He's gonna snap outta it, realize what he's done, and right the wrongs he's committed. I don't need to speed that along in any way, shape, or form - he's a grown man. And I'm a grown woman, I don't have to fall to anyone's beck-and-call, he can figure his own shit out."

"I know - look, it's been fuckin' weeks of us dealin' with him losin' his fuckin' mind!" Richie snapped. "We tried to respect that you wanted distance and time, we really did, but he's losin' it, Peach, more than he's lost it before. Okay? I'm concerned about him, more than I was when the shit with Mikey went down..."

You sighed and leaned on your kitchen counter, wiping your fingers over your eyes to pinch the bridge of your nose after. "Okay, okay," you paused, sighing again, blinking as you looked at Richie, "so, what would you like me to do?"

He pouted dramatically, "Talk to him? Please?"

"To say... What?"

"I don't know, you guys can work that out together, but he's miserable, Peach. Just talk to him, just..." He sighed, shaking his head, "I know it's not fair to ask of you, but he's slippin' off the deep end. You're all he knows, all that makes sense to him, and with you gone..." His eyes turned red as he held back his tears, "I-I'm not sayin' he's gonna do anythin', Peach, but everythin' with Mikey's still so fresh... I just - I can't go through this again. Can't lose another Berzatto."

You frowned, understanding now why he appeared so frazzled.

"Carmy's not Mikey, Richie, okay?" You reminded him softly, reaching for his hand; leaving your extended to reach him, "And you're not gonna lose any more of us, you hear me?" You gave a squeeze, "I'll talk to him."

"Really?"

"I will," you assured softly, seeing the single tear drop from his waterline when he bowed his head and sniffled harshly. "Hey, Richie...? Do you, maybe, wanna bring some flowers to Mikey today? Think you wanna visit?"

He shrugged, "Maybe..."

"Maybe it'll be nice," you assured calmly. "It rained a few days ago, so, the ground won't be too soggy anymore, but the grass will be lush and green - hydrated and shit."

"Right," he chuckled, nodding, "yeah, okay, maybe that'll be nice, yeah, you're right."

"Maybe Carmy could use a visit, too."

"He won't go."

You nodded, "I know, but sometimes it's nice to just have the offer."

Richie agreed, downing the last of his black coffee. "All right," he cleared his throat, "let's go - you wearin' that?"

"What?"

"You gonna wear that? To go talk to Carmy?"

"It's not even seven in the morning!"

"He's at the restaurant," Richie shrugged. "Dude doesn't leave. C'mon, he needs a nap or somethin'."

You groaned, knowing he wouldn't leave unless you left with him. So, you got ready quickly while he sat at your desktop computer; playing Facebook's FarmVille - the same you left your little cousins to play when they needed distracted. He was enraptured by the adorable virtual sheep, laughing to himself as he learned the ropes of the game; and when you were ready, you had time to fill a to-go tumbler of coffee while he signed off.

When you arrived at The Beef, it was still closed for the morning prep; and inside, chaos rained in a fury of angry voices. You listened to Carmy snap at Marcus about something petty, going as far as to slap a pastry out of his hand as they argued in one another's faces with ignited passion.

"Ooookay," you moved through the kitchen and got between the two men, hands on Carmy's chest, "that's enough, Chef, hey, hey, hey, c'mon, walk away - just walk away, Carmy, don't do this. Hey, hey, don't do this, c'mon, just step off - walk away with me, please. Please, Carmy, hey, hey, step off, walk away with me, please."

"Fuck you doin' here, Peach?" He asked with red, swollen eyes. He looked sullen; pale between the angry red blotches to his skin, bags under his tired eyes, looking worn out and thinner than you remembered.

"Yeah, hey, hey, we'll talk about that, c'mon, outside, outside, outside," you directed him, sighing at the sight of the splattered pastry you were forced to step over. "I'm so sorry, Marcus," you whispered, seeing him nod and wave you off as you and Carmy pushed outside into the alley.

The door shut behind you, making Carmy snarl, "What the fuck, Peach - "

"No, I think that's better asked to you," you snapped. "The hell's wrong with you? Yellin' at Marcus like that? You know how rude it is to slap shit outta anyone's hand?"

He paced in anger, wiping a hand down his face; circling his mouth with his fingers, eyes ringed with red, hair greasy and tossed in a mess. His pants looked baggy, his shirt wrinkled, stained, and dirty with sweat marks.

"What're you doin' here?" He asked in a pant, hands going to his slender hips, head shaking as his tear-filled eyes avoided yours.

"Carmy, we need to talk."

"No shit," he breathed, scoffing after and widening his pace.

"Hey, Carmy, hey, hey," you reached for him, taking both his wrists in your grasp so he had to face you. "I need you to pause for me, please, hey," you stepped in his way when he tried to move. "Carmy, you're no good to anyone when you're like this - least of all yourself. So, I need you to talk - "

"You left," he panicked, pulling back to start pacing again. "You left - you left me. We got in a fight and you left, you fucking left. You walked away and you left me."

"Carmy, we got in more than a fight," you sighed. "You lashed out at me, then turned avoidant, and I don't linger where I'm not wanted."

"How can you think that?" He demanded, still pacing. "That you're not wanted by me? That you're not welcome, what? In my life? At my side? With me? Baby - of course, you are!"

"You didn't exactly make me feel any different," you pointed out sharply. "Carmy, can you please fucking pause for me so we can talk this out - "

"I know I fucked up," he ranted to himself, huffing and puffing as his emotion strangled him. "I know I did, I kept - I couldn't - I fucked up. I know I did. I couldn't get my head outta my ass," he listed, pacing as he panted when panic took hold of his being, "and I hurt you, and it was like I had to keep hurting you because I couldn't be alone in what I felt and I couldn't exactly figure out what the fuck I was feeling - I just needed you to hurt, too."

"Carmy," you sighed patiently.

"And I couldn't stop, I just kept going, and when I realized how bad I made it, I couldn't fucking stop - I needed y-yo-you t-to know what I felt, but I couldn't find the words. I-I hate that I did that, I-I fucking hurt you and I made this so much worse than it ever had t-to be, and I fucking know, Peach, okay? I know you're not clingy, you were just loving me. Y-You were loving me, you were using your own love languages, and I felt y-you so fuckin' close to me, and freaked out - I just - I just don't know why. I just - I panicked, I couldn't stop whatever I felt, and I'm so sorry," he breathed, shaking his head, wiping his cheeks as the tears started. "I-I-I'm so sorry, Peach, I couldn't control myself and I-I hate that I hurt you, and I know I don't deserve your understanding, but I just - I couldn't stop - "

"Carmy," you stepped directly in his footpath; needing to seize hold of his swollen biceps to catch his movements as he all but barreled right into you, "I need you to breathe."

"Nah, I'm okay - "

"No, you're not," you spoke sternly, shaking your head. "Baby," you eased your tone to a softer tone, seeing a glimmer of hope spark in his baby blues, "I need you to take a breath and remain in the present with me, okay? Just stand here with me," you watched as he blinked a couple of times; reaching out to hold your waist tentatively. "And stay in the present, okay? Stay here with me."

"I'm so sorry, Peach," he whispered, stepping closer so he could feel your breasts against his chest; caging you with his arms. "I'm so fuckin' sorry, I didn't - I didn't know what the fuck I was even trying to fight with you about. You're not clingy - you're not any of the things I said, I didn't mean it - any of it."

"Calling me desperate?"

"I didn't mean any of it."

"A bitch?"

"Please," he whispered, bringing you in closer so he could rest his forehead on yours. "Don't repeat it, I know what I said, and I'm so fucking sorry for all of it. I know I don't deserve your forgiveness, but I'm goin' crazy without yah, Peach. I need my best girl, and I don't deserve you, but I fuckin' need you." He sniffled, pulling back to caress your cheek, whispering, "I need you, Peach, you're the only thing that I know - the only thing I can understand, that makes sense to me. I think I just felt stressed and overwhelmed, I wasn't sure what to do - I couldn't find the words, I'm so sorry."

You nodded slowly, "I think we can work through this."

"I don't deserve you."

"Maybe not, but you have me anyway," you whispered, bringing his forehead to your own again. "But you can't do this again, taking anger out on me when I haven't done anything."

"Never again," he sighed, now nestling into your neck for comfort; arms tightening so you were the closest you could be with your head bent to keep his head caressed with yours.

"I don't think we can say 'never', but we can make an effort to leave work stress at work, right?" You whispered softly, letting one around coil around him to keep him close; the other caressing his jaw. "You don't get to treat me like that," you reminded him, "because I'm on your side, Carmy, I'm not the enemy."

"I know," he squeezed you tight.

"And the people doing their jobs are not the enemy," you smirked.

"I know," he chuckled lightly. "I owe Marcus an apology..."

"I'm sure you owe it to the others, too," you mused, holding his cheek as you turned your head to kiss his forehead. "Promise me we're done with that reactive bullshit. It doesn't make navigating a relationship easier on us."

"We're done, we're so fuckin' done with that shit," he whispered, deflating into your embrace as you held him close. "I'm so sorry, baby. I really am."

"I know," you comforted softly. "I forgive you."

"I don't deserve it."

"Hey, hey, this self-deprecating stunt has to end, too. We've gotta go forward with at least some confidence if we're gonna figure this out together."

He nodded, pulling back but keeping hold of your waist. "I am confident about this... About you - about us."

"Hmm?" You gently pushed a few stray curls from his forehead.

"Move in with me - officially."

Your face contorted in mild disappointment, "Oh, Carmen - "

"No, no," he rushed, sighing as his hand flattened on your jaw and cheek again, "just listen to me. I've wanted to ask you for a long time, okay? I've wanted this for - like - fucking years. Hear me? I just," he sighed, "I wasn't sure how to ask. I want this for us, I want us to be together, okay? Officially. I-I want us living together, Peach, okay? I want to come home and just - I want you there. I want all of you," he frowned, tears swelling again, "and all your shoes in the foyer, hair in the shower drain, perfume on the counter, and every-single-way you know how to love me. I was wrong to say you were clingy - and everything else I said. Baby, the last couple weeks, I've felt so fucking empty, so lonely and - just - cold. I've been cold without you. I need you, Peach, I need you with me, and I need you to be exactly you - no holding back. Because you're exactly who I need to love me, I'm so sorry I fucked that up before."

"Carmy."

He frowned, "I'm sorry."

"I know," you smirked, "and I forgive you. But you know it's gonna take more than a few pretty words and some tears, right?"

He nodded, "Anything to make this work again."

You sighed in patience, "Go say your apologies to the others, we've got t'make a stop before going back to yours - and you're going to take a fucking nap."

"I'm fine - "

"Look me in my eye and try to tell me in the past 72 hours, you've had decent, restful sleep."

He frowned, opening his mouth a few times but then sighing. "You know I can't," he whispered.

"Exactly why we're going back to yours."

Carmy paused, brows furrowing as if a thread pulled them together. He asked softly, "Is that a no to us... Living together? Is that why you're calling it 'my' place?"

You offered him a look of patience and leaned in to peck his lips for a few prolonged seconds, promising, "There's your apartment, there's my apartment, and then there's gonna be our apartment. Somewhere that's just ours, 100% us." His mouth stretched in a grin, so you swiftly cut him off, "But you have to ask me again when you've got restful sleep under your belt. I want you clear headed when you make this kinda decision."

"Yes, ma'am," he agreed. "Where're we goin' before?"

You swallowed nervously, telling him softly, "You absolutely do not have to go with us, but I think Richie could use a visit out to Mikey's grave. I said I'd take him with some flowers, but you do not have to get out to go with us - not if you're not ready."

He blinked a few times, rolling his lips between his teeth as his eyes dropped from yours. You were about to coo his name and assure him again, when he nodded at you and tried to half-smile. "Okay," he breathed.

"Okay?"

"Mhm. I'll, uh... M-Maybe I can, just, hang back in the car."

"Sure, baby, whatever you're comfortable with," you whispered, leaning in to peck his forehead. "You good?"

"I will be."

"Mhm," you hummed, caressing his cheek again before pushing your hand into his curls. "Now, let's get a move on - I want you to march in there, say you're sorry to your Chefs, and then we'll leave."

"Yes, ma'am," Carmy whispered, leaning in to kiss you - but you pulled back.

"Aht," you halted him with a teasing finger to his lips, "after we've got everything worked out, then you can kiss me."

"You got t'kiss me," he mumbled against your finger; making you hum as you fought off a stretching smile, and lower your hand.

"Fair point - just one then - "

He cut you off by, indeed, pressing a single kiss to your lips, but not pulling back. His hand raised to hold the back of your head, your lips spreading in a grin against his; finding rhythm to move together before pausing to press in prolonged passion.

When he pulled back, you both paused to smile, and when you tried to peck his lips again, he pulled back, teasing, "Aht, just the one."

"Oh, fuck you," you laughed lightly, letting him take your hand before leading you back into the kitchen. The other Chefs lingered, sparing you and Carmy a few nervous glances, making you whisper in his ear as you squeezed his hand, "Go ahead, baby, get it done."

He nodded and called the kitchen to attention, clearing his throat, and beginning to make his apologies. He singled out Marcus, then Sydney, Richie, and Sugar; the kitchen staff all accepting his words and insisting he could take the day off - even the next few days if he wanted! You had to usher him to grab his things a few times, nudging him in reminder and verbally pushing him back into action. That boy's ADHD would truly be the death of him.

"So?" Richie smirked at you as Marcus handed you a packaged box of pastries.

"We're talking it out."

He chuckled, "Good. Get him outta here, Peach, dude needs to breathe."

"I got it," you swatted him away as Carmy exited the office. "But we've got somewhere to be first, right?"

He paused, then nodded and asked in a mutter, "He said okay?"

"He's got time to decide what he wants to do, but he knows we're going. C'mon, get your coat."

Richie met you at the front of the restaurant and with a parting wink to Sugar, you took Carmy's hand, tangled your fingers together, and left to venture to your parked car. Carmy got in the front, Richie in the back, and after a stop at a corner bodega to grab three bouquets of flowers, you drove to the cemetery. Carmy was silent, no music played, and Richie's leg bounced in anxious tension; making small conversation with you about your job in an effort to distract himself.

When you arrived, you pulled up on the access road that you knew was closest to Mikey's grave. Richie spared a glare between you and Carmy before muttering that he needed a cigarette and got out of the car to leave you alone. "Baby?" You whispered, reaching for his hand. "Hey, look, if you don't want to go with us, it's okay. We won't be long... But maybe you want to sign this," you showed him the small, blank name card left in the flowers.

"Why?" He whispered.

You shrugged, "So he knows they're from you."

"Peach," he sighed, meeting your eyes.

"Baby, I know it's silly, I know it's easier to ignore it all. But I'd like to believe it's just a nice gesture for our own closure - it's a signed gift from us, to them... And maybe it's nice to pretend that wherever they are, they know what we've left for them."

Carmy nodded slowly, "I-I don't think... I don't think I can go..."

"It's okay, baby," you whispered.

"But," he sniffled, opening his hand to you, "I'll sign it, if you'll leave it for me?"

"Of course," you rushed, opening your purse to producing a pen for him. The clank card rest on the center console of your car, pausing, swallowing nervously, then scribbling his name as he cleared his throat. He offered you the pen, waited until it was put away, then offered the flowers. "Hang tight, we won't be too long," you whispered, leaning in to rest your forehead. "You okay?"

He nodded, pecking your forehead before letting you get out of the car. You handed Richie his own flowers with a signed card, holding your own and Carmy's; linking arms with Rich to venture up the small grass hill and moved about halfway down the cemetery plot line. When you came to his stone, you understood this was what Rich needed more than you, so, you knelt and laid the two bouquets down before starting to quickly groom the area around his tombstone.

You told him, "I'm sorry it's not much, but I'll be back later for a picnic and a chat. I brought you flowers from me a-and from Carmy. He's in the car, but he's here, Mikey... Give him time," you whispered, brushing dirt from the stone before standing. "Take your time," you told Richie softly, seeing the tears gather in his eyes.

"Thanks, Peach," he whispered, offering you a tight hug. When you pulled back and started to walk away, Richie lowered himself to kneel and lay his own flowers down; hearing him tell Mikey, "Don't gotta worry 'bout us, Mike-Man, Peach is the glue that keeps us together. Shit, she even got Carmy out here..."

You made it back to the car and got in, smiling at Carmy - but dropping it the instant you saw tears in his eyes. "Talk to me," you whispered, reaching for a wet wipe in your glovebox to clean your hands after plucking the grass and brushing off dirt from the grave.

"Why can't I get out?"

You only stared at him for a long moment, unsure what to say.

"I'm here... I'm finally here... Why can't I get out?"

"You're not ready," you nodded, tossing the wipe aside to a plastic bag. "It's okay, Carmy, it's okay to not be ready yet. We can come back when you are," you reached for his hand.

"I think this added to my frustration," he admitted. "I couldn't... I didn't go to the funeral, haven't been here since he was... You know."

"Laid to rest."

"Yeah," he sighed. "Fuck's wrong with me?"

"You're grieving," you relented, nuzzling closer so your head rested on his shoulder. "It's not linear, Carmy, baby, just let yourself feel. When you try to repress your emotions, you lash out inappropriately."

"I know," he whispered, "'M sorry."

"It's not your fault," you promised, the two of you quietly bowing your heads together. You remained as such until Richie got back in the car, and from there, it was quiet as everyone stewed in their own emotion. You dropped Rich back at work before promising to call him later and driving away; heading for Carmy's apartment in the soothing silence, his hand locked in yours.

When you arrived at his apartment, you froze upon seeing the interior's state. "Oh, Carmy, no," you whispered, frowning deeply.

"Looks worse than it is," he deflected. You only hummed and let him lead you to the bedroom; watching him strip and prepare for bed before joining you on the mattress. He crashed almost immediately, sighing in relief as he pecked over your shoulder and collarbone, muttering, "'M so glad you're back. 'M so sorry, Peach."

"I know you are, and I forgive you," you told him softly, carding a manicured hand through his hair. "Just get some rest, baby."

He was asleep nearly instantly. He deflated on top of you, deeply resting enough to not notice you slip out from under him. You cleaned his entire apartment; doing laundry, cleaning, scrubbing, replacing necessities he deemed himself too lazy to pay attention to. You did dishes, cleaned out his fridge, and as you mopped up the floors, the sun set and Carmy emerged from the bedroom.

"Baby?" He mumbled in earnest confusion, sighing in relief when he saw you.

"What? Afraid I disappeared on you?" You teased with a small grin.

"For sure," he mumbled, wiping sleep from his eyes; making your amusement dim when you realized the nerve it struck. "The hell you doin'?"

"You didn't seriously think I could rest knowing this monster of a clean-up job lingered out here, did you?"

"I don't want you t'clean after me."

"Well, too late," you smirked. "You good now?"

"I feel better, yeah."

"Good."

"And I made up my mind."

"Hmm? About what?"

"I'm gonna take some time off work," he nodded, "and focus on us. Get us in a new crib, it'll be nice."

"Think you can handle that?"

He nodded, "I'll have to, you're the most important thing in my life, I can't lose you. So, if I gotta take time off, that's the least of my worries. I'm only here for us, for you."

You smiled at him, setting the mop aside to wrap him in your arms. "I like the sound of that, us making a home together - being able to decorate a new home. But don't let me overdo it, okay? I get all excited and kinda bulldoze my way through projects. I don't want you t'find real reason t'resent me."

"Nah, that ain't possible," he promised quietly.

True to his word, Carmy took three solid weeks off; agreeing to a fourth week as a contact-only consultant. You and he slept in most days, looking at apartments, and not once did he even mention work. He was diligent in his attention, focused on you and you alone; putting in overtime to rebuild that what was broke by focusing on shared interests again. You found a place you loved ready for what was basically immediate move-in, taking time to pack your respected places and prepare for the official start of your cohabitating relationship.

You didn't forget what he said, being reserved in your displays of love. Yet Carmy was different; he was totally clingy the moment you returned to his life. He feared letting you go meant you'd disappear again, feared you'd run away again. He held your hand at every possible opportunity, got you a fresh bouquet of weekly flowers, ran all his errands with you; never went to bed without you, cooked all meals with you in the kitchen - perched up on a counter. Most showers you took together, and almost every night was spent cuddling on the couch or in bed with either a book being shared between you or a new show playing on the mounted flatscreen TV.

Carmy clung because he thought if he showed you acts of his love, it'd allow comfort towards your loving behavior to flourish again - and he was right. It took a little bit of time, but Carmy clung tighter and tighter; ensuring you started to reciprocate before ever easing up in the intensity of his affectionate displays. He didn't want to overwhelm you, but knew you needed the reassurance.

You were cautious, you were apprehensive; tiptoeing around Carmy even when living together before warming back up to him. You didn't need to repeat the words he hurled at you all those weeks ago, not wanting to dredge up repressed feelings, but never letting him forget what he said. Your actions spoke enough, skittish around his affection; something Carmy took note of and despised himself for. He made up for it, of course he did, it was Carmy and he hated tension and conflict in his closest circles of life. Yet it wasn't so easy for you two to move forward, they weren't just words to you.

They were direct insults to you as a person; to you and how you loved others. Carmy had seen your deepest fear and used it as a defense against you - wanting you to hurt the way he was, too. He understood this wasn't acceptable, knowing the next time he resorted to such despicable actions, you'd simply walk away; never dealing with disrespect, so, he needed to be acutely aware of his words.

You would never allow yourself to be someone else's doormat, but part of being an adult is understanding that people were allowed to make mistakes - it's part of being fucking human. How terrible you'd feel if someone held your own mistakes against you, because the truth was, you weren't perfect either.

Part of being in a(n adult) relationship is understanding when someone apologized, it was best to accept and move on because nothing was ever solved by dragging turmoil out. This didn't mean forget what happened, forget whatever emotion was evoked - but to do your part to repair what was broken; no matter who was at fault, it always took Two to Tango.

And in this song and dance, you were ready to sweep around the dance floor if only with Carmy. Because that's what a relationship was; a conscious effort by both partners to work as one, to dance in-sync; owning the art together, as equal partners.

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Text

imagine being loved by me

🍯 honey flavour: your love has stood the test of time, thus far, but a party fit for a rockstar brings up some bitter emotions.

🐝 the bees: rockstar!Eddie x jealous!Reader

wc: 8k

cw: drugs and alcohol consumption, mentions of weight gain (eddie’s, in a positive manner), R has panic/anxiety attack, jealousy (talked about and resolved tho), softdom!Reader, softdom!Eddie, oral (E and R receiving), R has breasts + a V and referred to with she/her pronouns, P in V sex, cumming inside w/out protection

foreword: timeline is wobbly and may not align perfectly w canon bc I’m bad at math so shhhh suspend ur disbelief. based on this anon thank you v much anon <3

___

It’s the coldest January Hawkins has seen in ages. Snow banks sit high on the roadsides, air thick with snowflakes, three-AM fog brought in courtesy of the bitter wind chill.

Under the yellow floodlight of a nearby streetlamp, your boyfriend is sucking down the last of a joint while you stamp your feet against the gravel parking lot.

“C’mon, Eddie,” you whine, crossing the arms of your fleeced puffer jacket, bouncing on your heels to keep the blood flowing. “My toes are gonna get frostbite.”

“A touch dramatic,” Eddie replies, unbothered. The cherry of the joint between his lips burns orange, casting a warm glow over Eddie’s cheekbones, the twinkle of snowflakes caught in his bangs. “I told you to go in without me, princess. Warmer in there.”

“Without you? As if.” You pull the pity card, and it works, ‘cuz it always does- that boy has got to learn how to say no to you, one of these days.

Not today, though, because Eddie is tamping out the ember on the sole of his boot and crunching up the snowy path to sling an arm around your neck.

“Grub time,” he says against your hair, pressing his cold lips to the side of your forehead as you both make your way into Benny’s Burgers.

The heated air is a welcome relief, and save for a couple of old-timers at a side table, you and Eddie are the only customers in the place.

Benny greets you both from where he’s flipping patties on the kitchen grill, waving a spatula at the corner booth- “All yours, kiddos. Want the usual?”

You and Eddie call out affirmatives as you sink into opposing seats, unwrapping yourselves from all your winter gear as you go.

“God bless Benny Hammond for expanding his night hours,” you say, piling your green scarf on the tabletop. “This is a good tradition for us, y’know. Post-band practice smoking and coffee- very rock and roll.”

“I concur.” Eddie tosses his knit hat at you playfully. “You, my lady, have the most rock ‘n roll soul I ever did see.”

As Benny approaches with two mugs of steaming coffee, you muse aloud, “Not sure if the amount of sugar you’re about to dump in your coffee is very metal, per se...”

“Y’hear that, Benny?” Eddie grabs a fistful of sugar packets and shakes them indignantly. “My girl’s trying to keep me on the straight and narrow. How’s a rockstar s’posed to live in these conditions?”

“Lord knows,” Benny says, sardonic, setting the mugs down and turning back to the kitchen.

Eddie winces as his hands wrap around the heat of the mug, and you notice right away. “Your fingers splitting again? I have that salve that you used last time, but it’s back at the trailer.”

He puts his hand face-up onto the table, and you slip yours into his, the deep fingertip grooves from guitar strings rough against your soft palm.

“I’ll live. Plus, it’s kind of metal, right?” Eddie runs a calloused thumb across the back of your hand.

You squeeze back, give him a wink. “Very metal.”

Eddie’s been working himself to the bone lately. Trying to stay in school and not drop out is a feat in itself, but compounded with the band practices that have only ramped up in length recently, it’s a lot to balance.

He hasn’t complained at all, of course. It’s not really in his nature.

In the past few weeks, however, he’s been imbued with this near-manic energy, a renewed sense of purpose. In between your own fitful sleeps you often wake in the early hours of the morning to find Eddie hunched over his desk, pen flying across his notebook as he reworks an old song or outlines a new one. Not that you weren’t proud of him before, but seeing him apply this newfound passion to his music has been a huge source of joy for you.

And, if you’re being really honest, also a major turn on. I mean, the boy’s got swagger like no other, and you’re so glad he’s finally utilizing it on stage. Even if that stage is in the middle of a piece of shit dive bar. Still counts, in your book.

Benny drops off baskets of hot fries, a burger for Eddie, and a BLT for you. Methodic and familiar, you offload half your fries to Eddie’s basket as he slides his burger towards you for the first bite.

After a few minutes of peaceful eating, Eddie balls up a napkin in his fist and raps the table with his knuckles. “So, uh. Kind of have some news.”

You slot the ketchup bottle back into its metal holder and look up with raised brows. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He looks suddenly nervous, knee knocking into the underside of the table as he bounces his leg compulsively. “You remember Paige Warner? Graduated in ‘81, brother is a baseball jock?”

When you nod, Eddie blows out a breath- his unease is kind of setting you on edge.

“What about Paige Warner?” you prompt.

“She moved out to L.A. for a job and she’s working this scouting gig for some bigshot record,” he continues, absently pulling the thin napkin in his hands into pieces, staring vacantly at the mess. “And she wants Corroded Coffin to record and send out a demo to the label.”

As the news sinks in, your jaw drops. “Holy shit. What?”

“Yeah.” Eddie’s fidgeting with the paper scraps now, still not making eye contact with you. “She wants us to start recording next week. I haven’t told anyone else, yet, I wanted to make sure you were the first-”

You interrupt him with an excited little squeal (drawing glares from the old guys across the diner) and shove up from your side of the table to throw your arms around Eddie.

“Holy shit,” you repeat, laughing as Eddie pulls you into his lap- “Eddie, that’s amazing!”

“You think so?” he asks, your enthusiasm allowing his own to creep in; He slides his hands to your denim-clad hips, his self-professed favorite stress toy (well, tied for favorite with your thighs).

“How come you were so nervous to tell me?” You ask him, gently, tucking his dark hair behind his ears so you can see his face better. “Were you thinking I’d react differently?”

He looks up at you wide-eyed, shakes his head- “No, no, I wasn’t worried about you reacting a certain way. I just… I’m just worried about what this’ll mean. You know. For us.”

“Us?” You echo, encouraging him to continue.

Eddie squeezes at your hips, presses the crown of his head against your collarbone like he’s mustering up the courage to speak. “Yeah, us. I know L.A. isn’t your dream- shit, I don’t even know if it’s mine- but you didn’t sign up to go on the road like this. You’ve got college to consider, and-”

“So I’ll take a gap year,” you interrupt, putting a hand to his cheek to make him look at you again, and when he starts to protest, you talk over him. “No, Eddie, I’m serious. I don’t know what the hell I wanna do with my life yet anyways. Following my hot rockstar boyfriend to a new town sounds like a pretty good deal to me.”

He shakes his head again, and you can feel his dimples spring to life under your hand as he teases, “Gonna be my little groupie?”

“And more,” you confirm, giving him a kiss (chaste, so as not to invoke any more ire from the grumpy other customers) and sliding off his lap to return to your own seat. “I’ll be your assistant extraordinaire, if you want. Or bodyguard. Make sure none of the other groupie chicks get too close.”

Eddie rolls his eyes, fondly. “You’re the only groupie I need, sweetheart.”

Settling back into your respective seats, you both work on the last basket of fries while chatting genially about the future. Eddie mentions getting an apartment in Los Angeles, so there’s less of a commute, which branches the conversation into the logistics of a cross-country move, and then on to more important topics such as the alleged coolness of west-coast parties.

“Who’s your celebrity hall pass?” you ask, out of pure interest, dipping a fry into the well of ketchup. “Like, say you’re rubbing elbows at some famous muckety-muck’s party and someone catches your eye. Who’re you taking back to the motel for a slutty roll in the hay?”

Eddie snickers at your phrasing, then says, “I mean, preferably, my super hot girlfriend-”

You throw a fry at his head. “That’s such a cop-out answer. In this hypothetical, Joan Jett is in red leather petting up on you and you’re saying you wouldn’t take her up on a one-night stand?”

A laugh bursts out of Eddie, a real, proper one where he throws his head back. “Are you actively encouraging me to hook up with some bimbo at a random party? Without you? Unlikely scenario on all fronts, babe.”

This earns him another launched fry, and he squawks, trying to shake it out of its place caught in his hair as you reprimand him- “Joan Jett is not some bimbo, watch your mouth! And what I’m saying is, if you didn’t at least try to score us a threesome with her, I’d be pissed.”

“Okay, baby,” Eddie soothes you a tad derisively, likely a ploy to avoid more flying food- “if I meet Joan Jett I will do my level best to get her in our bed. Scout’s honor.”

He holds up two fingers and wiggles them obscenely, grinning when you laugh again. “All right, Nosey McGee. Who are you taking home from the party?”

You hum, eyes flicking up to the ceiling, contemplating the options. “I guess I could be talked into a night with Kirk Hammett.”

Eddie’s turn to launch a fry. “You slut,” he chuckles, “That was a way quicker answer than mine.”

“Okay, fine. If I meet Kirk Hammett, I promise to at least make a bid for threesome. Deal?” You extend your pinkie across the table.

Eddie loops his little finger into yours. “Deal.”

____

The memory of that cozy diner evening years ago fades as you shake yourself to the present.

You aren’t two highschool kids with lofty dreams, anymore- after Eddie’s recovery from all that Upside Down bullshit in ‘86, Corroded Coffin took off. Even though Paige didn’t end up coming through with any deals, Eddie and his bandmates fought like hell to get signed- and by the end of that year, a small record label in the heart of downtown Chicago had taken the bait.

Corroded Coffin turned out to be the best thing to ever happen to Arken Records; by the spring of ‘87, business was booming thanks to the help of Corroded’s debut album, The Banished Ones- their new single was a chart-topper for over 6 weeks. (Smash Hit magazine’s latest review was titled “Fresh Sound Rises from Dirt Nowhere.” You have the paper clipping saved in your ever-growing folder with “rockstar boyfriend!!!” handwritten in black ink.)

And in a few weeks, the band will set off on their first real tour, starting in Chicago and ending with a bang in an already sold-out show in Hawkins- Dustin, Steve, and the rest of the gang with VIP front-row seats, of course.

As much as you and Eddie have grown and matured in the past few years, the core of you both has remained the same. Eddie is still just as dorky, goofy, and caring as he always has been, while you’ve kept that tenacious spirit and quick wit that he fell in love with back in the early days of dating. Even now, with his popularity rising and his rockstar dreams on their way to coming true, Eddie constantly brings his focus back to you.

Pillow talks in cushy hotel beds, late night ramblings over post-show whiskeys, holding hands in the back of yet another cab- when he could be talking about the thousands of exciting things happening in his own life, Eddie is asking about you.

Did you talk to Robin last night, sweetheart? How’s ‘ol Birdie doin? What do you wanna wear to that dinner thingy tomorrow… could go naked for all I care. In fact you probably should because of feminism and all that. Did you sleep okay last night? Let me look at ya. You thinkin’ any more about those applications you got?

You’d taken a gap year to support Eddie, which you were happy to do, but with ‘87 drawing to a close, he’s been more insistent lately that you take a look at all your college options. Honestly, you’ve been enjoying the adventures that come with touring way too much to consider going back to the rigidity of school.

And plus, having the love of your life nearly bleed out in your arms in a parallel dimension has totally realigned your priorities. If folks thought you and Eddie were attached at the hip before…

He’ll likely argue you into academia, eventually. He always rolls high on persuasion. Damn him.

For now, you’ve got a party to attend.

Arken Records is playing host, on the last night of 1987- in celebration of Corroded Coffin’s success and to kick off the New Year’s festivities, they’ve rented out a house in east Chicago for the event.

Well, house isn’t the right word. More like mansion. Vaulted ceilings tall as a church’s, huge windows overlooking the Chicago river, a grand chandelier with flickering candles in nearly every room.

When you and Eddie had toured the place a few days previous, he’d made a joking complaint low in your ear about not having the time to fuck you on every surface. Your laugh had reverberated off the sweeping mahogany floorboards, mostly at the expense of Eddie’s poor publicist who’d happened to hear his comment. (Melanie had really been putting in overtime lately; you made a mental note to send her a very nice flower arrangement and vouchers for a spa trip.)

The party was in full swing by the time you and Eddie arrived, fashionably late, and he had been folded into the throng of other musicians and partygoers against his will pretty much immediately- which you’d expected. The last hour, he’s been throwing you piteous looks from his spot across the room, where he hasn’t had the chance to move an inch with the amount of people keeping the conversation going. You’ve slipped to his side a few times, refreshing his drink, letting him curl an arm around your waist as you perch on his knee, only half-focused on whatever story some producer is saying as Eddie’s hand trails up your thigh.

You’re back on the nearest wall again, sipping champagne, taking it all in. There are probably over a hundred people crammed into this banquet room, bass thumping through the floorboards, tables shoved to the outer corners making space for a makeshift dance space.

The air is hazy with smoke from various cigarettes and joints; as the night has progressed, the smell of freshly-applied cologne has been replaced with heady sweat as the dance floor calls more people to writhe and grind in groups and partners. Eddie is still stuck in the lone pod of living room chairs, surrounded by a rapt audience of people crammed in to hear him better over the blaring music.

He looks damn good tonight, in a cut-off black tee and his favorite ripped jeans, leather jacket hung on the chair behind him. Silver catches the light from every angle- on the chains at his hips, around his neck, glinting off his rings as he gestures animatedly mid-story. He’d asked you to do his eyeliner at the hotel earlier, and although it’s smudged and blurred at the edges now he’s still pulling it off. Tiny silver stars, hand-drawn with your eyeshadow brush, twinkle across his cheeks like freckles.

Eddie wanted to match with you, whined until you added a belt made of gold-plated stars to your outfit. You went simple, the gold to his silver- belt cinching your short black satin slip dress, delicate brass rings and bracelets around your fingers and bare forearms. The one piece of silver you are wearing is a chain around your neck, Eddie’s guitar pick nestled snug between your breasts.

You still resolutely refuse to wear heels, even after Eddie’s stylist cajoled you into practicing on stilettos for a disastrous media training session last month- tonight you’re in a chic pair of Mary Janes with the slightest suggestion of a heel. Compromise.

There’s a big laugh from the crowd in the corner again as Eddie knocks a hand into Gareth’s chest for emphasis, nearly knocking the younger boy off his seat. You stare unabashedly at Eddie’s forearms, biceps on full display; he’s filled out a bit since leaving home, his usually lean frame boasting a bit more weight and bulk now that he’s got consistent access to well-rounded meals.

He’s looking healthy, down right glowy. You’re thinking about that smattered trail of dark hair that slides down the crest of his stomach, now with extra padding enough to sink your teeth into. As if he knows, Eddie catches your eye from across the room and winks, cheekily.

You shiver and unconsciously press your thighs together, hiding your grin with another swallow of champagne.

The alcohol turns a bit sour going down, though, as a crimped-haired blonde girl worms her way to Eddie’s side, laughing a little too loudly at the joke he just told. When she places a manicured hand on one of his shoulders, the thin stem of your glass nearly snaps in your grip.

The thing about rockstars is they have crazy sex appeal. The thing about your rockstar is he’s only interested in you, something that has been proved many times over.

So why is tonight hitting you so hard? Why do you feel nauseous the longer Eddie lets some random woman’s hand stay on his bare skin when you know he’s going home with you, and only you?

Maybe it’s the alcohol, or the overcrowded room, or the memories of Benny’s diner still lingering like a bruise in your mind. Hard to pinpoint exactly. All you know is that jealousy is gnawing like a thing raw and seeking in the pit of your stomach, and if you don’t get out of this stuffy room soon you’re gonna do something tabloid-worthy, like cry in the middle of a New Year’s Eve party.

By the grace of some god you make it across the dance floor and into a side bathroom unscathed, the pulsing sound of the party blissfully dimming as you shut the door behind you. Your mind whirls as you grip the gilded sink for stability, blinking hard at the tears beginning to form.

You love having a boyfriend who’s larger than life. You love that he’s taking up space and getting to use that charm that was nurtured on the DM throne back in Hawkins. You’re so proud of him, you really are.

You’re just starting to hate the way other people’s surface-level love of him makes you feel.

Because that’s what it is, right? Just surface-level, you reason with yourself- the level of intimacy that you and Eddie have is unmatched, something that the newly-formed masses of admirers won’t ever get to experience.

Christ, can jealousy give you hives? You grab a handful of paper towels and soak them in cold tap water, then press the damp bundle to your chest, breath stuttering.

You’ve never been the jealous type, or the overbearing type- it’s a new feeling, and maybe that’s why it feels so scary. The more you try to tamp it down, the more it rears its ugly head, making you, in turn, feel embarrassed for having such a strong reaction in the first place.

It’s a vicious cycle that��s only seeming to gain speed as you realize you haven’t yet managed a full breath since coming to your hiding spot. Your lungs are pinched and burning as you drop the soggy paper into the sink, leaning into the lip of the porcelain to steady yourself.

There’s a knock on the door, and you choke out “Just a minute”, not sure if the person on the other side can even hear you over the music when Eddie’s voice leaks through.

“Baby? That you in there?”

Against your better judgment, you open the door, and he crams in the small space, locking it again behind himself.

“There you are, I saw you leave and thought you were getting a drink or something but then you didn’t come back and- are you okay?”

He interrupts his own stream of consciousness when he notices the state you’re in. You give him a trembly smile, waving a hand dismissively.

“Yeah, all good. I’ll come back with you, just needed to pee.”

Eddie is not so easily thrown off the scent. He murmurs your name, sliding his hand into yours, looking at you with a wounded puppy gaze- fuck, you can’t have a breakdown. Not here, not on New Year’s in some knockoff-Playboy’s bathroom.

And certainly not in front of Eddie, who’s asking you to tell him what’s wrong, what happened, with an increasingly pleading tone that’s really, really not helping your whole Don’t Cry agenda.

Hoping your voice doesn’t break, you clear your throat and pull your hand from his grasp. “Nothing happened, okay? I just had too much to drink, feeling overly sentimental or something. I’m okay.”

You think your white lie was convincing enough when Eddie reaches back for the door handle, that maybe he’ll rejoin the party and leave you to have a good cry, but after poking his head out the doorway briefly he grabs onto your wrist, tugging you to his side and hissing “Quick!”

And then you’re both making a break for it down the mostly-empty hallway, Eddie pulling you smoothly past a wall of expensive-looking oil paintings before going through a set of double doors that lead to the outside.

It’s December in Chicago, which means a light layer of snow covers the terraced garden that Eddie is leading you through, stopping at a stone bench flanked by two scraggly bushes.

“Made it,” he huffs with exertion, dropping your hand to shrug his leather jacket off in favor of draping it around your own shoulders.

“You’re gonna be cold,” you sniffle, partly from the tears, partly from the crisp night air.

“Yeah,” he agrees easily, wrapping you in a hug. You press your forehead to his chest. “Got my girl to keep me warm, though.”

You stay like this for a few moments, his arms solid around you, breaths coming easier as the familiar smell of his tangy skin and that spicy bar soap he uses fills your senses.

“You gonna tell me what’s wrong?” he asks, gently, holding you at arm’s length to study your face.

When you shrug, unsure of where to start, he lets go of you and walks backwards, taking an unflinching seat on the snow-covered bench.

You gasp despite yourself, reaching to pull him up even as he twists out of your grasp- “Eddie, jesus, you’re literally gonna freeze your ass off. Get up!”

But he’s solid in his seat, widening his stance, boots planted on the ground- “I’m not moving until you tell me what’s going on in that head of yours, so you better start talking before my jeans freeze to the concrete.”

“It’s nothing,” you insist, but he’s giving you that look again, the one that cracks through the tough exterior every time, and you wrap your arms around yourself under the warmth of his jacket as you admit, “Okay, fine. It’s something. I’m just… having an overreaction.”

“To the shellfish?” he deadpans.

“No, asshole, to the blonde girl who was rubbing up on you earlier,” you snap.

Eddie blinks, genuine confusion in his voice- “There was a blonde girl… rubbing up on me?”

“She was petting your shoulder,” you continue, scuffing the toe of your shoe against the ground. “She was touching you, and I got- jealous, I guess.”

“Baby, if it makes you feel any better, I don’t remember her, at all,” Eddie emphasizes, spreading a palm flat against his chest in a gesture of sincerity, hair shifting across his shoulders as he cocks his head to the side.

His face is too familiar, too earnest for you to be able to say what you’re feeling without bursting into tears, so you turn on your heel, pacing a short loop in front of the bench, your breath hanging in misty clouds as you speak.

“It’s not even about her, necessarily. It’s about me and my stupid emotions. I’m not usually like this- jealous, you know? Like, I’m so proud of you, and everything you’ve accomplished, and I don’t mind sharing you, really I don’t, it’s just…”

You pause in your pacing, let your head drop back to look at the inky black sky pinpricked with stars, and your next words fall out like a confession.

“I just feel like I’m in mourning.”

You can feel his eyes on you still, as you loose the feeling that’s been caught tight in your chest. “It sounds so dramatic, when I say it like that. But I think that’s what it is. I miss when it was just the two of us, in this little bubble where no one knew our names and we just had each other.”

As the words leave your mouth, you scramble to explain, to soften the blow, hands tightening around your upper arms as you turn back to face the boy on the bench. “And I don’t mean to sound ungrateful, or, like, a total jealous bitch, because I really love you and I hope you know I’m not- are you laughing?”

Eddie tries his best to stifle the laughter into his fist when he sees how indignant you look. He rises from the bench, still a bit mirthful, pulling you back into his space. “Sorry, honey, I’m not making fun of you, I promise.”

You’re glaring at him now, and he ducks to kiss at the lines between your brow before pulling back and saying, “I think what you’re feeling is normal, and I don’t think you’re overreacting at all. Remember that asshole at the Smith Center party who kept trying to get your number right in front of me?”

“Vaguely.”

“I wanted to punch his lights out. Make a real scene, kiss you sloppy in front of some cameras.” Eddie cups your face in his hands, soothing his thumb against the wetness of your lashline. “What I’m saying is, I get jealous, too. And I don’t think that’s a bad thing.”

“But…” there’s a well of emotions that you’re drawing from, and it’s not empty yet, one nagging thought still surfacing. “But these girls that are coming on to you, they’re like… really hot. I don’t look anything like them.”

Eddie frowns. “Are you seriously trying to make a case for yourself on the grounds of not being really hot? That’s not gonna hold up in court, gorgeous. I mean… have you even looked in a mirror recently?”

He lightly taps his knuckle against your head, trying to get you to crack a smile, but you’re not ready to give in yet.

“You don’t think you’ll get bored of me?” you whisper, dropping your eyes from his consuming gaze to the wyvern inked on the inside of his arm.

“Sweetheart…” Eddie sounds genuinely pained. The ink in his skin stretches as he slips a hand to the back of your neck, cold rings against your skin making you shiver. “I couldn’t ever get bored of you. Not in a million years. We've been through too much together for you to think like that, hm?”

He strokes his thumb down the column of your neck, those doey brown eyes on you again. “Now I’m not saying you shouldn’t ever be jealous, ‘cuz god knows it makes me hot under the collar when you are. But I’m sayin’ I never wanna make you feel like you need to earn me, okay?”

His thumb tracks back up to the hollow of your jaw, taps twice questioningly, and you nod, letting out a shaky, “Okay.”

When he kisses you, it feels like every other time- comfortable, grounding, familiar. His tongue presses against the seam of your lips, and you let him lick into your mouth, gripping at his arms, flushing hot as you give it back to him in spades.

With a short groan, he pulls back, a wet click as your mouths separate- “As much as I wanna jump your bones in this wintry wonderland, I think the snow might’ve actually frozen my balls off.”

You giggle, spanning your hands around the meat of his waist, kissing up into his mouth again- “Poor baby. Want me to warm ‘em up in my mouth?”

He gives a solid smack to your ass for that, his palm smoothing over the stinging skin with condescension when you yelp- “All dish and no take, baby? Not exactly fair.”

____

Despite your weak protestations that you both should probably rejoin the party, at least until midnight, Eddie insists on taking you back to the hotel.

“This party blows, anyways,” he says over his shoulder to you as he leads you back through the halls of the house. “If I hear one more Tears for Fears track I might throw myself into the river from one of the hundred balconies in this place.”

He manages to track down Melanie with some effort, winding his way through the throng of people to where she’d been chatting with a reporter, plucking at her elbow to get her away from the crowd and into the quieter hallway with you.

“We gotta scoot, Mel,” he tells her, really hamming up the charm as the young publicist widens her eyes. “Think you can get us a ride outta here?”

“Mr. Munson, you can’t just leave,” Melanie insists, frazzled. “Someone from Rolling Stone has been waiting for the last hour to talk to you, if you could just-”

“No can do.” Eddie shakes his head, mock-apologetic. “There’s been an accident. Of a personal nature.”

You manage to choke down your laughter as Eddie turns around to show off the dark stains on the back of his jeans. They’re just wet from the snow that he sat in earlier, of course, but it looks convincing enough to make Melanie blanch and pinch the bridge of her nose.

“I’ll have a cab out front in ten for you both. Please keep a low profile until then.”

Eddie gives a sharp salute and you mouth an apology at her before she retreats to find a phone.

Okay, so maybe add a hefty bonus to that Nice Things for Melanie list of yours.

____

One of the perks of having a rockstar for a boyfriend is the sweet digs- the label shelled out for Chicago’s finest penthouse suite; an entire luxurious upper floor with a private elevator, windows overlooking the far-below city lights, and a sunken bath big enough for two.

Also included? Soundproof walls.

A perk you’re very grateful for as Eddie walks you backwards into the room, sucking a mark with stinging teeth into your neck as you moan, then giggle breathily, admonishing- “Christ, Eddie, slow down. We have all night.”

Eddie pulls back just far enough to frown down at you, his hands slipping under the hem of your dress to squeeze at your ass. His rings are cold against your bare flesh, and he grins when you shiver. “Uh huh. Sure do have all night. You gonna take advantage of that?”

He wiggles his eyebrows, cheekily, but that smirk drops from his face in record time the second you shove him to the bed. As his knees give out in favor of sitting on the mattress, you steady your hands against his broad shoulders to swing yourself into his lap.

Eddie’s looking up at you, cinnamon eyes darkened with lust- it makes your stomach flip something awful. Your skin feels alight with heat as Eddie’s hands drip like water down your sides, then to your parted thighs.

You sigh into his mouth as his fingers trace the front of your underwear, the silk sticky with your arousal.

“Oh, baby,” Eddie says, equal parts admonishment and pitying as you squirm into his touch. “What’s got you this worked up, hm?”

He’s asking like he doesn’t know- like he didn’t tease you with filthy whispers and wandering hands in the back of the car the whole way here.

“Whaddya think,” you scoff, not quite ready to give in yet, enjoying the thrill of being cagey as Eddie hooks a finger to tuck your panties to the side.

He grins, simmering, enjoying the chase just as much as you. His middle finger swipes through your folds and you shudder in his arms, hands tightening into the meat of his shoulders as he brings the wetness up to your clit.

Eddie rubs quick, steady circles until you’re mewling, bucking hips grinding down to seek more friction. You can feel the wetness seeping out of your core, dampening his jeans as he licks back into your mouth, capturing the soft noises you’re making as he winds you up.

“Can’t believe a pretty thing like you has anything to be jealous of.” Eddie noses at the spot under your jaw, and when you let your head fall back on a hinge to grant him access, he sucks another mark into the column of your throat. “‘M all yours, sweetheart. You gonna take what’s yours?”

Truth be told, your mind went fuzzy the second Eddie got his hands on your clit, the consistent build of pleasure sparking between your legs rather distracting. You’d almost forgotten how the night had started, but you let the jealousy and possessiveness creep back in as you push at Eddie’s chest.

He goes down easily, toeing his boots off and lying flat on the mattress; big hands settle on your waist as you rest your weight into him, warm cunt pressing against the bulge of his clothed cock.

At a light drag of your nails against his bare chest and across his nipple, Eddie groans low, squeezing your hips and rucking into you.

“You’re all mine, Eddie, right?”

His pupils nearly eclipsing their soft brown irises, Eddie stares up at you like you hang the moon and stars every night just for him. “Yeah, sweetheart. ‘M all yours. Lemme show you.”

Eddie pulls at the backs of your legs, helping you shuffle up his body until your knees are dipping into the mattress at either side of his head. Your core hovers just above Eddie’s mouth- you can feel his breath speed up on the inside of your thigh at this new position.

“Oh, fuck, Eddie- jesus… christ,” the last word ending in a moan as Eddie’s tongue licks a wet stripe through your folds.

He pulls you closer with an arm over each thigh until you’re sitting on his face, his nose hitting your clit with each tilt of his head. You’ve got no idea how he’s able to breathe down there but you’re hardly able to hold onto that thought when his tongue has started plunging in and out of you.

Automatically, your hands shoot out to stabilize yourself- one hand goes to the headboard and the other ends up in his hair, gripping the roots hard. Eddie groans, sending vibrations that make your cunt clench around his lithe tongue.

“Like the taste of my pussy, baby?” you coo down at him, regaining some of your breath to give him attitude.

Reaching a hand back to palm at his cock, you say “No one else can have you like this, hm?”

Eddie catches your eyes as he mouths wetly at your clit, then sucks it into his mouth. Your thighs shake around his ears, your orgasm unfurling in clenching ripples.

“Oh, yeah, Eddie, fuck, I’m coming- just like that, fuck fuck fuck…”

He doesn’t stop suckling at you until you’re gushing around his mouth, then pulling him off by his hair to make him stop.

Eddie heaves in a breath, kissing at the inside of your thigh, his lips and chin shiny with your release. “God, baby. Such pretty noises for me.”

“Mhm.” You shuffle down until your hips are aligned over his, then lean in to lick his mouth clean. “Gonna make some pretty ones for me, now?”

After helping pull his shirt off, Eddie whines softly as you press kisses down his bare chest, and by the time your mouth is pressing over that dark trail of hair that leads into his denim, Eddie’s begging.

“Please, angel, please- need your mouth. Do anything for it, baby, please…”

You rub your cheek against his bulge before pulling back to pop the button on his jeans, then help him shift them down and off his body. Once his black briefs join the growing pile of floor clothes, Eddie’s completely bare and at your mercy.

He gets on his elbows to watch as you mouth at the inside of his thigh, dark hair splayed around his shoulders, chest heaving when you ignore his leaking cock in favor of grazing your teeth against a sensitive spot. “Fuckin’- christ, sweetheart. Come on. Please?”

“Sound pretty when you beg,” you say, mildly, kissing across his heavy sack, hiding a smile when the contact makes him jolt. “Gonna do it some more?”

You keep eye contact as you take one of his balls into your mouth, watching his own eyes roll back so far you can see the whites of them as you use your tongue on him.

“-yeah, baby, yeah- just like that- fucking, fuck, you’re killin’ me…”

Eddie sounds wrecked already, and a hot flush of pride courses through your body at the knowledge that he could come from just this and it’d be you getting him there.

You mouth over to the other side of his sack, rolling the skin wiry with coarse hair against your tongue as Eddie moans above you. When your hand wraps around the base of his cock, starting to move in tandem with the pull of your mouth, Eddie makes a noise like he’s been punched.

A line of drool breaks and hits wet against your chin as you straighten up, settling yourself into the V of his legs and using his thighs as handholds while you begin to kiss up the line of his leaking cock.

He’s got a gorgeous dick, truly. Thick and long, curving slightly to the right, a pretty blue vein snaking up the underside that you lathe your tongue against, seeking out the salty brine at the ruddy head.

Eddie moans, brokenly, white-knuckled hands twisting into the sheets. When your mouth closes around the tip, his elbows give out, leaving him flat against the mattress as you work his length further in.

“Oh my god. Oh, fuck, baby. Please don’t stop. Please. Y’feel so good…”

You hum around the stretch of him in your mouth, relaxing your throat to draw him in a bit more. The spiky jealousy from earlier really is your biggest motivator here; covetous, you’re thinking back to all those first times with Eddie- trembling hands under your bedsheets back in Hawkins, stilted voices and giggles to cover up the awkwardness of trying to learn the other person’s body.

No one will ever know him like you do. No one will ever have all that shared history, those fumbling nights that slowly turned to lovesick days; memories of him on his knees for you, learning all the little things that make you tick, memorizing the song of your body.

The boy is all yours.

Your throat automatically constricts at the intrusion of Eddie’s cock slipping past your soft palate- his hips cant up, which you can hardly fault him for, patient as he’s been with your retrospective and teasing.

Before he can apologize you’re sitting up, wiping at the excess drool with the back of your hand and shucking your dress over your head, letting it and your belt fall to the floor with a soft clunk.

Eddie reaches for you again as you slide your panties down and off, and you let him help you up his body, your knees coming to rest alongside the lightly raised scar tissue at his sides. You stroke a hand down his chest, giving in to a moment of softness before seating yourself fully in Eddie’s lap.

His hands snap to your hips, a near-brutal squeeze as you sink onto his cock. The stretch is always an adjustment, but you’re so wet right now that he slides in easily, a breathy moan from the both of you as the walls of your cunt fit snug around his sizeable length.

“Fuck, you’re perfect.” The crown of Eddie’s head is pressed back into the bed, veins in his taut neck on full display as your hips start to swivel, blunt nails scraping into the soft flesh of your waist. “Just like that, sweetheart. Fuck me.”

With your knees planted on either side of his body, you begin to bounce in steady, rhythmic earnest, going for gold, the desire to bring your boy to the babbling edge overtaking every other thought.

“Feel so good, Eds, so big… can barely fit…” There’s a wet squelch accompanying each bounce now, slick dripping down to the base of his cock, your vice of a cunt flexing with every movement.

“S’all you, baby,” Eddie rasps out, toes curling in the efforts to keep his orgasm at bay for awhile longer. “Got a perfect pussy. Takin’ me so well.”

He’s almost in delirium territory, with you chasing after that bright unwinding pleasure at both of your cores; your hips stutter, hands flat on Eddie’s chest to center yourself, a hunger that you can’t seem to satiate gnawing at the edges.

Eddie notices immediately, feels the falter in your motion and brings his hands to your forearms, rubbing a path up them soothingly- “What’s wrong, angel, hm?”

You’re not sure how to put it into words, wishing (not for the first time) that you could just rest your forehead against his and transmit all the complexities of your emotions through touch alone.

Instead, you sigh out the name that you use when you’re done with taking, a name that lights Eddie up from head to toe as you say it- “Teddy.”

In one swift movement, Eddie slips an arm behind your back and flips you to the mattress, his hair a curtain around both your faces as he leans in to whisper against your mouth- “Teddy’s got you. Arms around me.”

You’re quick to obey, looping your arms around Eddie’s wide shoulders. He slides one hand up the back of your leg, pushing a knee up until it’s at your chest, mouth dropping open briefly when the new angle allows the head of his cock to kiss against that gummy upper wall of your cunt.

“Bored of you,” he huffs, recalling your words from earlier with disdain. “You’re talkin’ to the guy who memorized the first six chapters of The Hobbit just to recite for your bedtime.”

A quick thrust of his pelvis into yours has your stomach clenching in anticipation, brows on a tilt and knitting together as Eddie grins down at you. “Got a wicked attention span, baby. Lemme show you.”

He starts slow, agonizingly so, every inch of his thick cock dragging in and out, wetness pooling down your ass and probably the sheets, too; errant thoughts of housekeeping are rapidly erased as Eddie begins snapping his hips into yours in faster tempo.

He’s working to find that spot, the one that turns your brain to mush and is guaranteed to cause full-body muscle fatigue from the force of your orgasm. Your back arches off the bed, breasts pushing into Eddie’s chest, one arm still supporting your lower back as he laughs hoarsely, half-amazement and half-pride.

“That’s the spot, huh, sweetheart? Atta girl. M’all yours. Take it. Good girl…”

With each thrust, the wiry patch of hair dusted across Eddie’s pubic bone grinds slick and filthy against your clit. You’re so close to the edge now, a wave of pleasure cresting as you look up at Eddie.

There are two thin tracks of black makeup trailing down his face from where tears have made a mess of his eyeliner; rosy spots of flushed color in his cheeks, eyes like twin pools of chocolate, locked with yours as he rocks into you.

He’s learned the song of your body so well, knows every chord to strike- his hand leaves your leg to grasp at your breast, calloused palm against pebbled nipple sending more shockwaves through your body, applying just the right amount of pressure to make you sing for him.

“All yours,” you gasp out, and it feels like victory when his hips stutter and the cresting wave crashes around you both at the same time.

The pleasure roils through your gut, clit throbbing and cunt spasming around Eddie’s cock as he spills into you.

A wrecked, broken string of moans leaves you as you ride out the highs together. Eddie presses his forehead to your collarbone as he chants your name, twitching out the last of his spend, warmth blooming inside.

The quiet that follows is filled with shaking breaths, soft kisses, murmurs of “good job, sweetheart” as you both float back down to earth.

Eddie stays in you for longer than usual, his draped weight a grounding comfort as you trail gentle fingertips up and down his skin, lovingly against the scars that interrupt the smooth flesh of his back. Through the closed windows, you can hear the distant sounds of car horns and the deep boom of fireworks.

Sometime in the last foggy hour of lovemaking, 1987 has given way to a new year.

Eddie pulls his heavy head up from your chest to press kisses to your collarbone. “Happy new year, lover.”

You tuck his hair behind his ears, hands squishing lightly at his cheeks to bring his face close enough for a kiss. “Happy new year to you. Hell of a way to kick it off.”

Eventually, Eddie extricates himself from the intoxicating heat of your body (with minimal whining) and brings a warm washcloth to tenderly wipe away the mess between your thighs. Once you’re both cleaned up, he stretches out against the sheets, pulling the covers up as you hook a leg around his waist and snuggle in.

“So I was thinking,” he starts, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head, “I wanna take a trip back to Hawkins. Before the tour.”

Your hand stills in its rhythmic circles against Eddie’s chest; heart in your throat, you tilt your chin up so you can gauge Eddie’s reaction. “...yeah?”

“Yeah.” Eddie picks up your hand on his chest, twining his fingers with your as his other hand settles on your bare hip beneath the sheets. “Could visit Wayne for a few days, fool around in that twin bed like we’re teens again.”

He grins at your giggle, taps playfully at your hip- “Gonna parade you around all our old haunts. You’ve gotten even hotter since we left, babe. Gotta really rub it in the faces of those Hawkins Tigers burnouts whose best dates are their own left hands.”

You snort, and Eddie looks pleased again, but then sobers a bit before saying- “I mean, I’ve got my piece of home with me. But I think it could be good, to visit. Just the two of us.”

You’re quiet for a moment, a longing for home that you’ve managed to ignore these past few years resurfacing. “Can we get high and go to that diner? I mean, Nell’s isn’t as good as Benny’s was, but I’ve been craving a Hawkins milkshake.”

“Christ.” Eddie hides his smile in the crook of your neck, dimples springing to life. “You could ask for the Mona Lisa and I’d find a way to get it to you. Fries and a milkshake, that all I need to keep my girl happy?”

“Yeah,” you reply, a contented noise as Eddie settles against your chest again. “That’s all I need.”

___

thank u thank u for reading if you made it this far have a little kiss from me to you <3 xx lulu

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson smut #rockstar!eddie x reader #rockstar!eddie munson #rockstar!eddie

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hopelesslyromanticshark · 2 months

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⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ Normal Teenage Things

contents: leo valdez x daughter of poseidon! reader warnings: bad writing (jk...hopefully🥲), language, allusions to sexual themes but nothing too bad in my personal opinion?? author's note: hihi, soooo i've never done this before but i've got ~180 pages of one shots just collecting dust in my docs, so i figured i'd put them out into the world and see what happens !! feel the need to note, i'm dyslexic and also would rather die than proofread so i can promise you that there will be spelling errors but oh well. i'm actually super excited to see how this goes and i guess this means my requests are open?? Mind you, i'm still a new baby to all of this so be kind, pls and thank you!! anyways, enjoy 😌🫶

there was a loud and constant rapping of fists against the poseidon cabin door. it awoke both of the siblings, who were quick to dive under their covers and hope the person would just go away. there was a pause in the knocking before it started again, more insistent and louder. y/n huffed, shooting out from under her blankets, quickly adjusting leo’s shirt to ensure that it covered all of the parts it was supposed to. it was a shirt that had been a stupid gag gift from percy, which read ‘i heart my hot boyfriend.’ the moment leo pulled it out of the wrapping, y/n knew it would become her new sleep shirt. and leo was more than happy to oblige, only getting it back every few weeks when y/n shoved it into his chest, claiming he needed to make it smell like him again.

“the world better be ending,” percy called to y/n and the person at the front door.

“i second that,” y/n told percy before whipping the door open and glaring at will, who still had his hand raised to knock again.

“what? what could you possibly want?” y/n huffed, holding the door open with a raised brow.

“you’ve got a license, right?” questioned will and y/n’s eye twitched. percy started manically laughing in the background, trying to dig further into his bed

“you better be joking,” y/n managed to get out, staring the sunshine boy down.

“look, travis got shot in his foot by an arrow while training and we’ve got to get deliveries out, the infirmary is in desperate need of more bandaids, a few of the little kids birthdays are coming up-”

“okay, okay, breathe, dude. let me get dressed and a little brekky, then i'll take care of it,” cut in y/n, waving the boy off with a small sigh. there goes her plans of spending the day with leo.

“yes! thank you, y/n, truely,” will cheered, smiling brightly.

“yeah, yeah, sing my praises when i get back,” y/n told him before they waved their goodbyes, the daughter of poseidon marching back into the cabin. she glanced over, noticing percy was asleep again before chucking a pillow at him, causing the boy to shoot up and look around in a sleepy haze.

“if i gotta be up, so do you.” “you suck on, like, a major level.”

y/n quickly changed into a pair of carpenter jeans that leo always complimented, murmuring things about her ass into her ear. she then tugged on a navy blue tank top with a ditsy white floral pattern. she swiped her purse and sunglasses off her bedside table before making her way to the dining pavilion, quickly grabbing a breakfast bar and snapping it in half, tossing one half into the fire with a comforting sizzle. she took a bite out of her half before feeling arms wrap around her waist, the girl squealing with a laugh as she felt familiar curls settle against her neck.

“you’re out of dress code, mi amor. gonna have to punish you for that,” he muttered against her collarbone, y/n huffing out a laugh before pushing him off her, looking over her shoulder with a wide smile.

“i’ve got my reasons! travis got hurt, so i’ve got delivery duty today,” y/n informed him, noting the small pout that settled over his lips. she quickly cupped his face, pressing a quick kiss to his lips, “i’m sorry, lee, i know we were supposed to hang out today.”

“who says we can't?” leo prompted, smirking, as y/n could practically hear the cogs in his brain beginning to turn. she squinted at him before he quickly grabbed hold of her wrist and dragged her off and towards chiron, who looked up at the pair with a raised brow.

“hey, i’ve just come to get the keys for the delivery truck? travis shot his foot earlier so he can’t drive,” y/n stated, glancing at leo out of the corner of her eye, but figured he’s got his part of this operation covered. chiron nodded, passing the keys and a list off to y/n before turning to leo with a suspicious look.

“oh! you’ve got delivery duty, y/n? perfect! the forge is, like, depleted. we are in desperate need of probably three yards of sheet metal- ah, no, make that six. oh, we also need fourth of an inch bolts, not a third of an inch like last time. definitely need more screws, those fancy gold ones, nyssa’s picky,” leo started to list, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes as y/n was desperately trying to follow, knowing what he was playing at, but not necessarily needing to act like she was confused. she was definitely confused.

“you should probably start writing this down,” leo added with a wink, watching y/n’s face fall as she started patting her pockets for a pen she knew she wouldn’t need.

“how- how about you go with her, leo? make sure she gets the correct stuff?” chiron offers, having seen the girl’s panic. leo smiled widely, his plan working just like all his other plans.

“yeah, that’d be best, wouldn’t it?”

“now, no funny business, you two. this is a lot of trust i’m putting in you. if you’re not back by 4 pm, don’t come back at all,” chiron threatened, though they both knew they were empty. leo faked a solute while y/n pulled him away, saying her thanks as she went. she dragged leo all the way to cabin 9, following him into his room as he tugged his camp half-blood shirt off. y/n practically drooled at the sight, a blush quickly settling over her as she tried to avert her eyes and pretend like she hadn't been staring. leo shot a smirk over his shoulder as he picked up another shirt, one of the few normal shirts he had, and tugged it on.

“sorry, babe, shows over,” he told her, watching the blush spread with a smirk.

“whatever. you’d cream your pants if i even thought about lifting my shirt up,” y/n huffed back, shoving his shoulder as she spun around and began making her way out of the cabin.

“correct! you know what your bras do to me.” “don’t talk about my bras.” “you know, i thought they’d be made out of seashells the first time.” “no! leo, baby, why would i-” “i don’t know! daughter of poseidon and all, figured it was, like, in the handbook or something,” leo argued as y/n wheezed a laugh, leaning against him for support. he rolled his eyes at her amusement at him, wrapping his arm around her waist as they made their way to the truck. y/n went to open the driver side door but leo quickly shut it again, looking at her like she was crazy.

“leo, i know you like to open my doors and all-” “if you think you’re driving, you’ve lost your mind,” leo told her, rolling his eyes at her as he swiped the keys from her hand.

“i need to tell will to start harassing one of the many other people who have licenses at this camp,” y/n huffed as she clambered into the passenger seat.

“hmm, maybe, but this is the price you pay for being head camp counselor,” leo mused, giving the girl a cheeky smile. y/n groaned, lulling her head back against her seat as she buckled in.

“ugh, stop reminding me i have responsibilities.” “alright, alright. i’ll make it up to you,” leo started, causing y/n to squint at him in suspicion. “how so?” “iced coffees on travis?” he offered, holding up the son of herme’s credit card. y/n’s eyes instantly gained back the glimmer that he loved so much, making the pickpocketing so worth it.

“all is forgiven, my love!” she cheered, leaning across the middle console and tangling her arms around him with repeated kisses to his face. leo laughed, leaning into the affection without a second thought. y/n pulled back before pressing a kiss to his lips, more solid then the ones before. leo leaned even further, chasing after her lips when she pulled away.

then she reached into the glovebox, producing the one phone that chiron allowed near camp. the hephestus cabin tweaked it the best they could, making it nearly monster proof and demigod safe. it worked well enough for deliveries, gps being needed and all. plus, travis and connor managed to get spotify on it, disguising it as some puzzle app that chiron paid no mind to. y/n had to fork over twenty bucks just to be allowed to use it, as she wasn’t willing to drive around without music and the idiots put a password on it. y/n typed in the password - trav&conrule11 - pulling up her playlist as leo started to drive. she then pulled up the gps, checking to see the first place for deliveries and typing in the address of the small diner a few miles away. they liked the strawberries from camp best, feeling like they were supporting a small business when it was anything but. y/n listed the directions out for leo, knowing he’d just tune the robotic voice of the gps out. his fingers drummed across the wheel, his other hand playing with the rings on y/n’s hand, his thumb twisting the promise ring he’d given to her a few months ago, which caused his lips to twitch upward. eventually, they pulled up to the diner, y/n hopping out and moving towards the restaurant, the owner cheering as she greeted the girl, who she knew very well, leo trailing behind.

“y/n!! it’s good to see you, honey! they keep sending those rambunctious boys, we’ve been missing our girl,” the woman, mrs. ferrara, greeted, pulling the girl closer by her cheeks and kissing both of them. she was a short and stubby italian woman, but she held a kindness in her eyes that made her popular with the camp half-blood kids. she loved all of them, most itching for a chance at delivery duty to see the woman who’s become like a grandmother to a lot of them.

“you love those boys,” y/n mused as she passed her the clipboard, which needed a signature. she threw a glance over her shoulder at leo, smiling brightly at him which he returned tenfold.

“yes, but you’re my favorite,” mrs. ferrara replied with a wink, easily signing her name like usual.

“hey!” leo argued, crossing his arms with a frown. mrs. ferrara laughed as she walked around the counter, patting his cheek as she went past.

“much love to you, dear, but my y/n holds a special place in my heart,” the woman continued propping the door open so leo and y/n could easily bring the boxes of strawberries in. well, leo. because the moment y/n went to grab a box, he smacked her hands away and shot her a glare. she rolled her eyes with a huff, going off to hang out with mrs. ferrara who was more than happy to indulge the girl. they left soon after, though not without more kisses to both of their cheeks and breakfast sandwiches shoved into their hands.

“mmm, perks of delivery duty,” leo all but moaned, munching happily on his sandwich, which y/n plucked from his hands so he could turn the truck. “one of the few,” hummed y/n in response, finishing off hers and throwing the tinfoil into her purse to toss out later. she returned leo’s to his outstretched hand as she crossed out mrs. ferrara’s diner on her list, following down to the next stop.

“ugh, we’ve got to go to that stupid stuck up office,” y/n groaned, leaning her head back against the headrest, her lips set in a deep frown. leo looked at her for far too long before returning his gaze to the road, one of his hands leaving the wheel and smoothing over her jean clad knee. “it’ll be quick and i can talk to mr. stuck-up,” leo replied, earning a snort from y/n, a smile slowly growing on her lips before she shot across the middle console, her lips pressing against his cheek.

“my knight in shining armor,” she murmured again his cheek and a blush rose to his ears. “hm, no. don’t like how i looked in the armor at camp,” he smirked back, feeling y/n’s laugh bubble out of her.

after a few directions from y/n, they pulled up outside a bland looking building, the gray brick walls hiding one of those artsy-fartsy office buildings for some small newspaper. they liked to keep a ‘chill work environment,’ the place being filled with ping-pong tables and snacks, which included strawberries from camp. it would probably be fun, if the manager wasn’t so dreadful. y/n basically hid behind leo the whole time, glancing at her watch like they were in a rush while the guy ranted about immigration or whatever racist thing he had to say in that moment. leo’s eye twitched every now and then, but he kept a tight smile on his lips before swiping back the clipboard and slamming the boxes of strawberries down on some pool table. the two scrambled out of there, repeatedly pressing the button for the lobby in the elevator. they practically ran all the way back to the truck, snorts of laughter falling out of their lips as they jumped in.

they did a few more uneventful deliveries before finally reaching the little drive-thru coffee shop, y/n practically buzzing in her seat. typically, people with adhd tend to avoid coffee since it has the opposite effect on them. y/n, with her adhd being slightly less than standard, was an avid coffee drinker. leo couldn’t handle it, he’d be asleep at the wheel in seconds. he tended to stick to sweet tea or lemonade, occasionally an energy drink. the tea reminded him of sticky texas heat, which always brought a soft smile to his lips. leo easily ordered for the two of them, knowing y/n’s order better than his own. he proudly presented the coffee to the girl, who squealed as she took it into her hands.

“thank you, my sweet boy,” she cheered, her lips wrapping around the straw. leo laughed as he pulled away, waving kindly to the worker as he got back on the road.

“anything for you.” “don’t get sappy on me, valdez. gonna make me fall in love or something.”

their next stop was home depot. leo wasn’t completely lying to chiron when he said the forge was depleted, it was actually getting pretty empty in there. y/n took a long sip from her coffee before leaving it in the car and jumping out, going around the car and taking leo’s outstretched hand, wrapping her arms around his one. leo then pulled her closer to his side, pressing a kiss to her head before walking into the store. he knew his way around, almost like it was ingrained in his mind, and y/n liked to imagine that all children of hephaestus were just born with a map of home depot in their head. leo started grabbing things as he went before looking down at his full arms with a sigh, looking over at y/n. “could you-” “i told you we should have grabbed one at the start!” y/n huffed at him, rolling her eyes with a smile.

“i didn’t think we needed this much stuff,” leo called after her as she went to get the cart, the girl waving him off over her shoulder. he stood there inspecting the screws while he waited. leo frowned as he leaned closer to inspect a type of screw, muttering under his breath. after about twenty minutes, he was starting to get worried about y/n before she finally came back into the aisle with a cart. “lee! i had to walk across the whole store and i got lost, like, twice. you cannot leave me in here or i’m never getting out,” y/n laughed as she walked towards him. leo's eyes seemed to get caught on something, his attention being held elsewhere.

“leo? you good?” y/n asked, her brows furrowing at the lack of his joking response. “huh? yeah, yeah, no, i’m good. i’m…i’m great, yeah,” leo replied, finally pulling his eyes away from where the man had been and turning back to y/n, a smile stretching over his lips as he dumped the contents of his arms into the cart.

“you wanna do something fun?” he asked, looking at her out of the corner of his eye in the way he knew she loved. y/n nodded instantly, leo always brought a fun side out of her that no one else did. he shoved the stuff to one side of the cart, pressing his foot against the wheel to keep the cart still, before turning to y/n and holding one of his hands out. y/n took them, still not completely sure what was going on before leo moved his other hand to her hip and helped her into the cart. giggles instantly left y/n’s lips as she sat down in the cart, her leg’s spilling over the side. leo laughed with her, pressing a kiss to her lips before pulling the cart behind him. y/n proudly took stock and organized the cart, always knowing what they had and what they needed.

“hey, no, come on!” a voice shouted, y/n and leo’s head turning from the leather dye in front of them to the angry worker marching towards them.

“you two!” he called again, pointing at leo and y/n. “us?” leo asked, his brows furrowing as he pointed into his own chest. “yeah, you. come on, twelve and under are allowed in the carts. you’re, like, twenty,” the worker huffed, crossing his arms and tapping his feet. “ouch,” y/n muttered, shooting a glare at the man as leo helped her out, his hands firmly against her waist, “do i really look twenty, lee?” “nah,” leo mused, shooting a look at the man. “thank you. have a good evening folks, but if i catch you doing it again, i’ll ban you,” he stated, pointing at the two before marching off. y/n leaned up to leo, who leaned down to her. “do you think he gets more money if he tells a certain number of people off in a day or does he just take his minimum wage job too seriously?” she whispered and leo laughed. “definitely the latter. a fun person does not walk like that,” replied leo, causing y/n to giggle into his side.

finally, y/n managed to drag leo out of the store, though not before paying an arm and a leg. y/n refused to look at the cost, turning away with every beep of the scanner. leo rolled his eyes at her, seeing as neither of them had to foot the bill, but it rather came out of the camp expenses card. they lugged their copious amounts of metal and whatnots that y/n didn’t see the need for, shoving it into the back of the truck where the strawberries had been. y/n then bounced into her seat, rubbing her hands together in excitement as she looked over at leo, who got into his seat with a strange look to the girl beside him.

“off to target, my fine chariot!” she cheered, pointing off into some direction with a laugh. leo shook his head at her, laughing at the pure stupidity.

“yes, m’lady!” he called back in response, getting more joy out of the giggles than he ever thought possible.

y/n led the charge at target, leo basically being dragged behind the girl, his hand firmly shoved into her back pocket, something about not losing her. she rolled her eyes at him but walked slowly enough for him to keep up with her. she stockpiled chocolates, stuffed animals, and little gifts into leo’s arms. each collection was specified to the child, y/n always determined to go above and beyond for the younger kids. she then grabbed a bag of peanut m&m’s and salt and vinegar chips, winking at leo so he’d know those were her special treat to them. they left the store, leo proudly carrying the bags without even giving y/n a chance to grab them.

the drive back to camp was relatively uneventful, y/n just letting the music play as she started signing cards for the kids, leaving specific and heartfelt messages for them. then she’d pass them around camp, letting others leave notes until the paper was overflowing with love and birthday wishes. leo focused, to the best of his ability, on driving though it was all in vain. he’d glance over at y/n, the girl being perfectly framed by the vibrant pink and orange hues of the sun setting and just get lost in it; the sight of her, the heavy feeling of love in his chest, the way she’d wrinkle her nose at him when she caught him staring. he’d return his eyes to the road, a smile gracing his lips as he knew he must’ve done something right with his life, y/n being with him proof enough.

author's note cont. : ahhh! I'm actually so proud of this anyways- if you hate it, ya'll i need you to lie to me because i cannot handle not being perfect actually. anyways, i will admit this was kinda thrown together but i'm still happy with it. wish all of you who made it this far the best of days!!

#postcards from covey ౨ৎ #all my love ౨ৎ #leo valdez x reader #pjo hoo toa #HoO #pjo #pjo fandom #percy jackon and the olympians #leo valdez #heroes of olympus #percy jackson #heroes of olympus x reader

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princessbrunette · 4 months

Text

˚˖𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒✧˚.🎀༘⋆

thinking about unhinged but kinda jittery s1 rafe.

being in a relationship with him means getting fucked regularly, i mean that boy is like a machine — constantly getting riled up enough on adrenaline or coke or whatever it is and needing an outlet, being you. there’s times where he’s just got his stupid shorts pulled down below his ass, his polo tucked beneath his chin and both hands on your hips just jackhammering into you like you’re a little sex toy.

you ate something funny, a little while into the relationship— and one morning whilst rafe is sat at the kitchen counter chewing on a bagel you quickly depart to throw your guts up into the toilet. it was just a stomach bug, and you knew it — but rafes chewing slows as he hears the sound of you heaving in the bathroom, leaving his bagel behind as his eyes widen a fraction, slowly padding through the hall to find you.

he stands in the doorway, staring at you hunched over the bowl. he simply gawks dumbly for a while.

“ar…are you sick? wh—” he cuts himself off with a sigh, cheeks a little red and eyes wide.

“i guess.” your voice comes out echoed into the previously pristine toilet bowl.

“i—i mean no one else is sick i’m— i’m just thinking…” he starts to pace a little, fingers loosely gesturing to his temple. “i always pull out on time. you know i always do i’m— very careful—” he starts to ramble and you stiffen. oh jesus.

“rafe…”

“d-do you think it could be— like are you pregnant, maybe?” he stops pacing, facing you. his own words digest, and he closes his eyes, running two hands through his hair. “shit.” he clenches his fists angrily.

“no, rafe… i can’t be.” you try softly, head still hanging as you pick yourself up, wiping your mouth. the panic has settled in now and the blonde man sits on the lid of the toilet, rocking back and forth obsessively pushing his hair back.

“nah, nah— s’not… it’s not entirely impossible you know sometimes i just can’t control how soon i… shit, dads gonna fucking kill me. like actually kill me, you know that right?”

“rafe!” you raise your voice a little, before coughing. “m’not pregnant. got my period yesterday. just… calm down, okay? m’sick and my heads killing me.” you whine, watching the words settle in and his whole body relaxes. he leans back against the tile, breathing out a manic laugh as he sighs.

“yeah, yeah okay. good. i mean— one day, but i couldn’t— you know i couldn’t do all that right now, right babe?” he reassures, patting you on the back from his seated position.

“whats goin’ on in here? aw, honey. are you sick?” wards voice sounds, his head popping around the open door and peering inside the bathroom at the scene. his eyes instantly find rafes, boring into them — supposedly with the same idea.

“shes not pregnant.” rafe waves him off, standing up to fix his hair in the mirror above the sink. ward nods slowly, glancing between the two of them— the type of glance that says rafe is going to receive a talking-to about being safe later on regardless.

“…alright. rafe, go make her some tea, would you?”

˚˖𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒✧˚.🎀༘⋆

#idk what this is #rafe cameron prompt

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alicerosejensen · 6 months

Text

Warning: Yandere!Older Leon; young reader (20-25 years old); kidnapping, pet names, not Stockholm Syndrome, but the reader no longer resists Leon; mentions of sex; mentions of pregnancy, apathy.

Synopsis: If you knew who Leon Kennedy was, you would have avoided him, but it's too late.

A/N: I'm bad at writing summaries and coming up with titles for this shit. Just a yandere Leon and his pregnant reader hidden from the whole world.

It was raining incessantly for the second day, rolling down the glass of the second-floor window in large drops when you were lying on a straightened bed and staring unblinkingly at the weather raging outside in one of the wide warm hoodies. Even a favorite TV show or a good movie with delicious food could not brighten up the gloom of a gray day, because didn't want to get up and go down at all, especially since has already returned home.

Leon probably didn't bother to find out the weather forecast for the next few days, because he left the house on one motorcycle, which should have already been parked in the garage. You listened with bated breath to the heavy footsteps of his shoes as he climbed to the second floor after opening all these numerous locks on the front door. At some point, you even felt that small wave of fear that sometimes overwhelmed you when he was around.

You have been in his hands for more than a year, during which he suppressed all resistance but was never able to get what he wanted - your love. He probably should have turned to a specialist and fixed his head since he really didn’t understand why you didn’t love him and didn’t want to make contact, on the other hand, such an influence made you obey Leon and even enjoy sex with him after which you felt guilty. Ultimately, given the fact that Leon did not consider it necessary to protect himself, this resulted in undesirable consequences. For you, not for him.

When the bedroom door opened, you held your breath as he walked over to the other side of the bed and sat down, reaching out to you. Water from his wet hair dripped onto your face but he didn't seem to care as he leaned towards you placing one hand on your bump.

You didn’t even flinch or turn to him when his lips touched your neck.

"How are my pretty girl and our baby feeling?" the whisper sent a chill inside.

It wasn't worth the risk of testing his patience. You already tried and realized that it would be worse only for you but not for him.

Leon put his hand under your sweatshirt, pressing lightly on you, forcing you to turn to face him so that you were faced with the blue of his eyes, which looked at you with manic admiration.

“I...we’re fine,” you replied, watching him take off his wet leather jacket, throwing it somewhere towards the window and wrapping his arms around your pregnant belly.

The belly that you hated so much and preferred to wear oversized clothes so as not to notice it in the mirror until the last moment.

“My baby…” with trembling reverence, Leon put his head on your stomach, lifting up your hoodie, kissing the warm skin "my baby… Dad missed you two so much. You know, I brought gifts," he grinned, looking at you.

This sight made you sick, causing another surge of hostility towards him and your unwanted pregnancy.

"I want to see how your belly grows...how my baby grows inside you."

“Leon, I don’t think...” you didn’t finish as he interrupted you.

"Do not think!" He said authoritatively, sitting back on the edge of the bed with the intention of paying attention to you. “Will I think for the two of us or would it be more correct to say for the three of us?” that grin of his again

He probably didn't like that sweatshirt you were wearing, so he asked you to wait while he came down to get your gift. Leon quickly left the bedroom and you were able to breathe a little sigh of relief after straightening your clothes, although the happiness was short-lived and just a couple of minutes later Leon returned with a small white box wrapped in red ribbon, which he handed to you, sitting next to you.

"What is this?" you asked, looking at the light-weight box, afraid to open it, as if there was a bomb in there.

"Open it"

Your hands slowly reached for the ribbon, pulling it towards you. A thin strip of fabric fell into your lap, and you opened the lid of the box, putting it next to you on the bed, looking at a set of lace pajamas with an almost indifferent look, consisting of short light gray shorts that looked more like panties, and a pale pink T-shirt with a cute bow under the bodice. It matched the size, but would definitely emphasize your rounded belly.

"I'm sure this will suit you. It's like you're carrying my gift under your heart." He said, noticing the indifference on your face. “Don’t you like it, angel?”

You liked it before. You think that if he were a normal guy and not a psycho with a mania to control your life every breath, then you would be a gift, but in reality, no. However, it was better to lie.

“It's beautiful, I’m just tired. I don’t feel very well,” his hands immediately reached out to you and pressed you to him, stroking your head and kissing your temple.

"Oh, well, I'm already here for you." you snorted quietly, only thinking about how peaceful it was without him. “I want you to wear this today. In the meantime, let’s go, I want to show you something.”

You put the pajamas back in the box and had no desire to go with him, but Leon took your hand and hugged your waist, gently pushing you towards the door. He probably bought something for the baby too, but it was probably some small thing like a toy or a rattle, but in spite of that, he opened the door of an unfinished children’s room for you that still needed to be painted. He had already ordered a changing table and a baby chest of drawers, which arrived about three weeks ago and now stood alone in an empty room. Leon led you to the changing table and you saw two pairs of baby undershirts.

"couldn't help but buy for our baby" His hands continued to caress your belly, irritating you even more "Especially since I took a few unpaid days off and we can order other things."

“It’s too early for such purchases”

“We will be ready in advance,” another kiss fell on the back of the head, “especially since time will fly by quickly, before we have time to look back, our child will already be in our arms.”

This is what you are so afraid of. Leon doesn't even notice the fear of pregnancy and completely ignores your reluctance to become the mother of his child. Your eyes began to tear up looking at the children’s things that you wanted to tear and throw with all the pent-up rage in his face! You wanted to break all this furniture, because everything that happened to you was not your desire. And you didn’t want and don’t want this child.

Does he really think that you like being locked up in his house and carrying his child?! What has the government done to his brain that Leon thinks he has the right to control your life?

"What is it, angel?" Leon asked seeing tears in your eyes. His lips continued to kiss your head down to your neck. You couldn't even resist while he held you to his chest.

“I...don’t want to,” your voice cracked from the bitter lump in your throat.

Leon sighed irritably, making you a little scared, but nevertheless, tears flowed down your cheeks. His hands squeezed your waist almost to the point of pain as he turned you around to face him. A spark of incipient anger flashed in his pale blue eyes, but he pulled himself together, but for a short moment he looked away, trying not to break down. After all, he was already sure that he had suppressed all your resistance and convinced you that only he could take care of you in this cruel world. An oppressive atmosphere reigned in the nursery. Leon's silence was frightening, making you regret what you said. Under the gaze, wanted to shrink and cry somewhere in the corner of the room and finally wake up from all this nightmare.

"It's just hormones" Leon's dissatisfied tone did not let you be deceived. "A little excitement, that's all. Do you believe me, but I'm worried too? This is normal, because this is our first child."

You wanted to howl after those words. The thought that you would have to give birth to hated children from your abductor and stay locked up for days without permission to go out at least into the courtyard of the house did not inspire you with happiness. Leon controlled every aspect of your life and, of course, will control the lives of his children, who will definitely not be happy.

"You don't have to say that. When the baby is born, everything will get better, it will be a little hard for us at first, but you know, I'm thinking of putting a crib in our bedroom. So we don't have to run to another room when the baby wakes up." his gaze softened for a moment and he took your face in his hands, carefully wiping tears from his cheeks with his thumb "Just nerves okay? I know that we will be so happy as soon as this lump of happiness finally appears on our hands. I've wanted a family all my life and now I won't miss this opportunity."

"It was your dream, not mine." the words spoken had a touch of light courage, although they were uttered with apprehension and even despair.

"It will also be your dream" Leon kissed you on the forehead, pressing to his chest "We will be so happy. I promise"

"Do you really think I'm happy here? Do you really think it's okay to keep me under surveillance here like I'm a criminal? Do you really think I'll be happy to be the mother of a child I never wanted?!"

Leon grabbed you by the face harder, forcing you to hold your breath and your heart beat faster from fear. Of course, he never beat, but sometimes his punishments were worse than physical violence, but inside there was a glimmer of hope that he would be afraid to cause any harm because of your pregnancy.

"I'm doing this for your safety. Believe me, one day completely changed my life and I'm not going to lose the people I care about anymore. The world outside is very dangerous and you just can't survive without someone to take care of you, but that someone is me."

"If the world is as dangerous as you say, then why the hell do you decide to have children?"

A logical damn question! And Leon was clearly confused by it. But selfish desires sometimes overshadow the human mind.

"I'm trying to end this crap. Once I thought it was really wrong, but eventually I thought it over…what's wrong with coming from hell to a house where your real family is waiting for you? Cute kids from my beloved wife who would meet me at the door and whom I would hug. I didn't have a family," he said sadly, "I lost my parents too early, when I was still a child myself, and I always wanted my father to be proud of my achievements at school or teach something new. I hardly remember my mother's affection, but I can give it to our children!"

"This is not the answer to the question" You said without pausing like a statue in front of him clenched in strong male hands

"well…" Leon grinned loosening his grip, "in any period of humanity there have always been their own dangers: diseases, wars, famine, pandemics and so on. But if everyone thinks as I thought before, then humanity will definitely die out. My fear should not interfere with my happiness. The main thing is that I can take care of everything and keep my family safe."

His conviction of his own rightness was indestructible. Leon perceived your abduction and forcible detention as forced care for a loved one who could get hurt with an ordinary fork if he relaxed his vigilance a little. In the end, he grabbed your hand and dragged you down to the first floor, squeezing your fingers tightly, as if he was afraid that you might dissolve at any second. But, unfortunately, all past escape attempts were doomed to failure in advance. Perhaps if you play the obedient girl for a long time, pretending that they really love him and accept this abnormal care, then one day you will have a chance to sneak away, but how long will it take? A year? Two? By that time, the baby will already be born, and for some reason you were sure that his hypercontrol would only increase several times.

Suddenly a funny thought came to mind.

Leon once mentioned that he was a policeman. Apparently, he took the phrase "to serve and protect" too literally.

"What now? Will you punish me?" you asked feeling completely desperate because you were not sure that your acting could last so long that he would believe in this lie. Even if you run away, how long will it take him to find you? You can only escape from Kennedy to the next world.

Leon sat you down at the table intending to take care of your lunch, besides, it was certainly important to him that you eat properly and properly. He seems to have read all the books that said what pregnant women can and cannot eat. By the way, he ignored your question for a long time until you called out to him again.

"You are an obedient girl and don't do anything that could harm our child. I'm sure it's just hormones and nerves. When you give birth, you will feel the joy of motherhood"

As if not so!

You wanted to flush his love and care down the toilet because… you did not experience any Stockholm syndrome and if at the beginning of your acquaintance with Leon you experienced exceptionally bright feelings, perhaps even falling in love, now there was nothing but rejection. Although they don't want to admit to themselves that…sometimes his shoulder and gentle strokes were the most beautiful that you could only get in a lifetime.

In the end, you spent the evening on the couch watching some show curled up in a ball while Leon was sitting somewhere behind typing something on a laptop. He checked on you a couple of times and couldn't resist kissing you on the forehead, as if he thought that in front of him was a cute plush toy that needed to be cuddled. You didn't know what to do and whether you would ever be free again…maybe if one day he gets killed in the line of duty…

You stole a look at him when Leon was brushing his teeth in the bathroom and you were already lying in bed in that new lace pajamas. The thought was seductive and to some extent intoxicating, because perhaps it was his accidental death that could one day free you from this imprisonment.

Even when he lay down next to you, especially intently examining your bulging belly, which was noticeable in such clothes.

Leon pulls up his shirt and leaves a wet kiss near the navel while you scroll through this thought in your head.

Perhaps one day the higher powers will have mercy on you, and everything will end… But now, it seems, there was nothing else to do but just accept your inevitable fate and find himself back in the warm embrace from which gradually does not want to get out.

#leon kennedy #leon scott kennedy #leon s kennedy #resident evil #leon kennedy x reader #leon x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #resident evil x reader #leon kennedy x you #reader #leon kennedy resident evil #leon resident evil #yandere resident evil #yandere resident evil x reader #yandere leon kennedy x reader #yandere leon kennedy #yandere!leon kennedy #leon scott kennedy x reader

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junipers-archive · 1 year

Text

Paper Rings

Word count: 1.1k

Includes: tiny itty bit of angst to fluff, fluff, fluff, Spencer has been acting distant so you try to start up a conversation, ultimately leading to his confession about wanting to marry you but never finding the right moment

You were worried. More than usual worried, worried. Spencer had been acting odd lately, and for the past few weeks you had been trying your best to ignore it.

It was hard though, he had been distant, almost neglectful, his once cheerful and atentative attitude when listening to your day or the new book you'd been reading gone and replaced by a cool indifrence.

You were near to him now, sitting on the sunflower yellow sofa in your apartment, reading different books. But instead of being next to you he was on the other side of the couch.

In an attempt to start up a conversation you mentioned one of your fresher pieces of news,

"Hey Spence", He didn't even look up, just hummed.

You scooted closer, "Uh- I- Well you know my cousin? Marion, the one who got engaged a few months back?"

"yea" his eyes shifted up quickly and then right back down to his book.

"Well they finally set a date! I got my invite in the mail yesterday morning, it's in Hawaii!!"

"Oh, really?" he wasn't even glancing up now to seem interested.

Nevertheless, you tried one last time with enthusiasm, hoping he'd be kind enough to take pity and reciprocate even a fraction of it.

"So whadaya say handsome, be my plus one?"

"mhm." mhm. That's what your relationship had dwindled down to?

You shook your head, tears pricking your eyes as you got up from the sofa, trying really hard not to cry. But there was only so much you could take, was he seeing someone else? What had you done to make him so upset?

But that was the thing he wasn't even yelling at you! You'd become an irrelevant part of his life without even realizing it.

By this time you were grabbing your things in a scramble, trying to get out, get out of the apartmentget, get out of his life if thats what he really wanted. When it occurred to you that he was still obsorbed in that stupid book of his.

And you had to know, You just had to.

"Did I do something?! What-Just tell me what I did Spencer please!"

You were standing before him now, waving your arms around manically.

"Y-Y/n, whats wrong?"

"I don't know Spencer you tell me! I mean first I thought it was a case you were on that had put you off, or maybe that we'd been apart for too long but weeks went by! Its been weeks and you still won't even look me in the eye when we're talking!" You fail in your previous attempts to keep the tears at bay as droplets fall down your flushed cheeks.

He was stunned but eventually he found his words, "I-I- that wasn't my intention, I- just- I-"

You were hysterical at this point, he couldn't even tell you?

"Look Spencer. If you wanna break up, just say it already!"

You were one second away from storming out when he spoke up again, catching you by the wrist and leading you down the hall to the bedroom quickly.

"Look I'm really, really sorry Y/n its just that- well it'd be easier if I just showed you."

You came to sit on the bed, arms crossed over your chest as if armor protecting you from being hurt.

He was searching through the back of the closet you shared, finally pulling out a shoe box. He sat down next to you, opening the box, where rested an old sweater of his that had been worn thin and a black velvet box sitting within.

He handed the small compartment over to you explaining frantically,

"I've wanted to marry you for a long time now, hell Y/n I wanted to marry you since the moment I met you. But I kept chickening out and for the past few weeks I've taken you to our spots to pop the question but I-I- nothing was ever good enough...I couldn't find the perfect moment."

he looked straight in your eyes now, which were watery, overwhelmed by the idea he wanted to marry you just as much as you wanted to marry him. "You deserve the perfect moment. And not being able to provide that to you, it tore me apart, so...I became distant, praying I was good enough but also hoping you's find someone better..."

"I-I understand completely that this isn't the time or place but when I saw that you were crying- I just I needed you to know that the reason I was being so distant wasn't because I wanted to break up, far from it! I want to spend the rest of my life with you!"

You opened the box now, silently falling in love even more as you gazed down at the your dream ring.

Finally lifting your gaze to the boy in front of you and kissing him deeply, finding your voice again as you pulled back grinning,

"You're an idiotic-genius, you know that?"

He only grinned back, "Yea, yea I'm fairly aware."

You slipped on the ring, it was perfect fit.

"Well...Are you gonna ask me?"

He shook his head, "You're gonna have to wait till i find our perfect moment."

You grumbled like a digruntled child, leaping back on the bed and guarding your ring finger as he tried to take it back. Ultimately he ended up on top of you, both of you play wrestling like children.

"Y/n. Give. It. Back."

"NO its my ring now! You can't take it back! You practically already proposed!"

"You said yourself, I technically haven't asked!"

"Well why don't I keep it for now, just until you're ready?" You were wearing a shit-eating grin as you looked up at him, he had pinned you down with his hands on your wrists.

"No way. What Would I propose with then?"

You craned your neck to kiss him then, albeit akwardly. "I'd marry you with paper rings Dr. Reid."

He had gotten admittedly lost in your sweet words, which you used as your opprutunity to slide out from under him, once more flashing you giant grin before running out of the room.

"Y/N!"

The afternoon was lost to him chasing you around the apartment as you chanted, "Paper rings dr. Reid! Paper rings!"

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sp0o0kylights · 1 year

Text

Adopt a Jock Part One / Part Two / Part Three PART FOUR YOU ARE HERE Part five

As always I own my entire soul to @chalkysgarbagefire

Steve didn't show up to lunch that Monday.

This was a problem, because Gareth and Eddie had carefully prepared the entirety of Hellfire to help make Steve play a D&D one-shot.

(Well, mostly Eddie--and he'd left out the parts about how the entire goal was to acclimate Harrington to hugs and high fives.

Gareth assumed that was a more careful conversation they'd all have later, outside of school grounds.)

"Eds, if you jiggle your legs any harder the table is going to take flight." Gareth complained, scooting away before he got jabbed in the gut.

"Where is he!?" Eddie muttered, glancing at his watch for what had to be the twenty-fifth time. “Are we sure he showed up to class this morning?"

Stewart, the only person to share a class with Harrington, gave their leader an exasperated look. "Yes, I’m sure."

He flicked his spoon, pointing it towards Eddie. "And yes he looked fine, yes, everything seemed normal, no I don't know why he's not here and no, no one fucking abducted him, or threatened him, or any of the other crazy excuses you keep coming up with!”

Eddie’s frown deepened as Gareth and Grant traded concerned glances.

"Maybe he just didn't want to sit with us today." Jeff remarked, approaching the topic with the same care a technician had when approaching a live bomb.

Gareth thought it was a smart move, considering Eddie looked like he was about to rocket into the ceiling.

"He's sat with us everyday, why would he change now?" Eddie argued.

"Maybe there's a basketball thing happening. Or he's saying hi to his jock buddies." Gareth tried, using the same cautious tone Jeff had.

"We’re his friends!" Eddie snapped, looking two seconds away from losing his shit entirely.

Almost unconsciously, Gareth and Jeff both raised a hand almost to try and help calm him.

Like he was a wild horse and they were the preteen girls in the movies determined to establish a bond before he killed their grandpa or some shit.

This was what happened when one deviated from a predetermined Munson-made plan. Not that Steve had known that of course, but then, he wasn’t exactly catching the fallout, was he?

‘I am making Harrington buy lunch after this.’ Gareth thought, as Eddie returned to bouncing both his legs almost frantically. ‘From someplace expensive.’

"Maybe Hargrove ate him." Grant suggested, as if the very thought of Billy Hargrove wouldn’t set Eddie off on a rampage.

"I could see it." Stewart agreed. "Dude has cannibal vibes."

"Not. Helping." Jeff hissed, his palm still in the air and hovering vaguely over Eddie’s shoulder.

Sure enough, Eddie’s entire body tensed at the mere mention of Hawkin High’s new King. "That’s it. We’re going to find him.”

“Have fun.” Tiff said, waving him off.

Eddie glared. “We’re all going.” He practically spat.

With a put upon sigh, Tiff set her food down. "You really want to spend the rest of our lunch period stalking around the hallways looking for Harrington?"

Eddie gripped the edge of the table so hard his knuckles went white.

"Yes Tiff, I do." He said, a manic gleam in his eyes.

He shoved up from the table, striking the kind of pose he often used during his rants. “This is a break in a pattern of behavior. A veer from an established path! This is the very first sign in every horror movie that something is wrong!”

He went to put his foot up on the edge of the table, like a pirate captain looking to the seas ahead, but instead missed it entirely and fell forward.

Eddie flailed for a moment, before managing to catch himself on the edge of the table. Instantly he began acting like he’d intended to fall like that from the start.

“I refuse to let any of us behave like idiotic, stupid, horror movie characters.” He finished dramatically, hair hanging in his face.

“You’ve been watching that Sherlock Holmes show again, haven’t you?.” Jeff asked him flatly.

“Among other things.” Gareth muttered, because as usual, he was the one who’d been watching said shows and movies with Eddie.

Not that it bothered him any, just that it meant he got to watch his best friend adopt new behaviors in real time.

Eddie flew back up, flinging his hair out of his face with a dramatic toss of his head.

“Come on my Watson’s! Let’s go find Harrington. I have a one-shot to pitch dammit!” Eddie outright yelled, flinging his arm skyward once again.

He got several startled glances in the cafeteria for it, but as used to Eddie as they all were, no one bothered to say anything to him.

“Why the fuck would we all be Watson?” Stewart muttered as he stood.

“I agree. Obviously, I’d be Watson.” Gareth said, also getting to his feet. “You’d be Mrs. Hudson.”

“Oh fuck you, I would at least be the other crazy smart dude.”

“Mycroft or Moriarty?”

“Mycroft.” Grant and Jeff chanted as one, the both of them putting their food away.

“Not one of you is any Sherlock Holmes character. Except maybe the dog.” Tiff cut in with an eye roll as she finally gave in and stood herself. "Now come on, let's go take Eddie for a walk."

Said metalhead flipped her the bird, but otherwise didn't protest.

(Probably because this wasn't the first time they'd had to do laps with Eddie.)

xXx

"Maybe he just went home." Gareth said reasonably some fifteen or so minutes later.

They'd made their way through the school, Eddie obnoxiously bursting through all the bathroom doors to loudly (and embarrassingly) yell for Steve.

They hadn't seen hide nor perfectly shaped hair of their wayward jock, and none of them were looking forward to trapezing around the outside of the school to hunt for him.

Thankfully, they didn't have to.

"Wait.” Tiffany asked, as they passed by the small little hallway leading to the art and photography rooms. “Is that Steve?"

Immediately all heads turned towards the direction she had pointed in.

"I think so?" Jeff guessed, eyeing the guy standing in the hallway down from them.

Gareth squinted, trying to get a better look. "Looks like." He agreed. "Also looks like Tiff was right, he is hanging out with other people."

Eddie tensed at that. A true feat, Gareth thought, because he was already wound so tight he looked in danger of snapping in half.

"Fucking useless." Tiff muttered.

Louder, she said; "Let's try that again. Isn't that our idiot jock with his ex-girlfriend and the guy she supposedly cheated on him with?"

The lot of them watched as Steve stood in one of his classic defensive positions (arms tucked into his sides, back rigid and chin down, like he was about to perform some kind of football tackle.)

Nancy Wheeler faced him, her own chin raised and her arms crossed like she was about to give the lecture of a lifetime.

In between them stood Jonathan Byers, though he was angled more towards his girlfriend than Steve. The guy practically radiated discomfort but seemed to be managing.

Even if his shoulders were practically above his ears.

It didn't exactly look like a two on one situation, but then it didn't not look like it either.

"Shit." Gareth said, which summed up the situation rather nicely.

"Should we go save him?" Grant asked, concerned.

Not one person moved.

Instead, all eyes went to their fearless leader--who was uncharacteristically silent.

Gareth took in the narrowed, frantic-turned-furious look upon his friend's face and wondered vaguely if he was going to have to stop a murder today.

Possibly two, depending on Byer’s involvement.

"Defensive position boys!" Tiffany called out, breaking the spell with sheer volume as she made the decision for them. "Eddie, you with us or not?"

Brave words for her, considering Gareth knew damn well that Tiff was often more bark than bite.

Thankfully, it worked.

"Right!" Eddie barked, jerking in place as he came back to himself. "Our Stevie needs us, men and Tiff!"

He pointed forwards, like a war general leading a charge. "Hellfire, move out!"

Fanning out into a triangle behind their club president, the lot of them followed as Eddie marched forward.

"You know I didn't mean it like that." Nancy was saying, and even though Gareth didn't know her he could tell she was frustrated.

"You have people you can talk to. You have m--" she cut herself off when Eddie strode up next to Steve.

Then blinked rapidly, reminding Gareth of a startled cocker spaniel when the rest of Hellfire fanned out around Harrington like wolves guarding their young.

(Or brightly colored and very angry ducks, but wolves sounded cooler.

Plus the last time he'd said something like this aloud; Grant had loudly informed him it was actually Muskox that made protective circles, Stewart brought up that triceratops were cooler, Jeff decided they should be bees and Tiffany had gone off on a tangent about badly done animal behavioral studies.)

"I daresay I agree!" Eddie said, taking a dramatic leap forward and startling Steve and Byers both.

That alone was a cause to worry--Gareth couldn't recall a single time Steve wasn't hyper-aware of his surroundings enough to get properly lost in it.

At least lost enough that he missed an entire group of people approaching.

"Steve is more than welcome to talk to people! His people." Eddie leaned forward a touch, the smirk on his face the one he used when he was playing up his role as the town's satanist cult leader.

To her credit, Nancy recovered remarkably fast. "I take it you believe that's you?"

Eddie reared back, like a cobra rising to strike. "Why Nancy Wheeler, Stevie here is an adult and can choose who he wants to talk to.”

He turned, one hand over his heart and the other held out to Steve. " Ain’t that right, big boy?”

Nancy and Byers both just stared.

Gareth couldn’t blame them, he was staring too.

Apparently deciding Eddie was too ridiculous to deal with, Nancy returned instead to talking to Steve--who, Gareth noted with more than his fair share of pride, looked a bit more grounded now that Hellfire had arrived.

“I understand that we’re in a weird place right now, but you have to know I still care about you, right?” Nancy bit her lip, clearly unhappy to have an audience but plowing ahead anyway.

"I'm fine, Nance.” Steve told her, voice steady, but growing flat.

He was shutting down--shutting her out, if not everyone out. Gareth knew, if only because he’d watched Harrington do it to them more than once.

(Knew because he himself had shut downs just like this. Eddie and Nancy were the kind of people who got loud in their anger, demanding people see and face them.

Gareth on the other hand, even with his more explosive temper, often ended up more like Steve when faced with breakdowns with people he cared about. He didn’t want to hurt them. To say the wrong thing, to lash out when someone was just trying to help.

It was safer to shut up, back away and put some distance between yourself and whoever had pissed you off.)

Either Nancy wasn’t aware of that or was too deep into her own emotions to see it, because she took a half step forward. “I know you’re not fine. I know you, Steve.”

“Not anymore you don’t.” Steve responded, and Gareth wondered if he realized he was leaning away from her--and towards Eddie.

Considering the way Wheeler’s eyes bounced between them, he knew she definitely had.

Quite possible Byers too, from how he had to stop himself from pulling Nancy away.

“I’ve been working hard to become someone else.” Steve added. “So you don’t have to feel responsible for me. I’m not your problem anymore.” He spoke without malice, just with the pure emptiness of someone who completely believed everything he said.

“Steve-” Nancy protested, but Eddie cut her off.

"You heard him." He said, peacocking his little social win in a way only Eddie could. "Now if you don't mind, I have extremely important things to discuss and you have cut drastically into my time."

He flicked his fingers in a shoo gesture, one that made Nancy's eyes spark in a way that quite frankly, terrified Gareth.

"Fine." She grit out through clenched teeth. "You know I’m always available to talk, Steve."

She strode off, passing Steve and the rest of Hellfire without a glance backwards.

"Sorry man." Jonathan muttered apologetically to Steve as he passed, following after his girlfriend.

Steve waved him off.

"Well she's just a delight." Jeff muttered, once Nancy was well out of hearing range.

Steve's entire chest heaved in a sigh, swaying slightly backwards as if the entire confrontation had physically drained him.

"She's trying to help.” Steve muttered softly, scrubbing a hand down his face. “She's just...coming at it wrong."

He turned, seeming to finally notice that all of Hellfire was there. "What are you all doing out here anyway?"

"Rescuing you." Grant informed him.

"From Nancy and Jonathan?" Steve said in disbelief.

Like Byers hadn't supposedly kicked his ass already. Nevermind the moping Wheeler had caused.

(The entire school had witnessed the moping.

It was, after all, part of what had drawn Eddie to Steve.)

"Yes." Tiff replied bluntly. “Also if she corners you like that again, I will make it my personal mission in life to top all her test scores.”

"I--okay." Steve blinked rapidly, clearly unsure of how to process that.

“Not that I needed rescuing,” He continued after a moment, staring at the whole group. “But why were you looking for me in the first place?”

His voice was slowly recovering, coming out of that weird flatness it had scrunched itself into. It was an excellent sign, a sign of trust, and Gareth leapt to keep it before someone could say something stupid and fuck it up.

"Eddie needed you to pitch his next one shot idea and couldn't wait for you to show up." Gareth admitted. “We decided to hunt you down since you were missing lunch.”

“Oh.” Steve blinked again, and though it’d be concerning on anyone else, the guy just looked like a lost puppy. “I’m sorry man.”

“It's alright Stevie. I just thought you'd totally ditched us.” Eddie sniffed dramatically, looking like he was going to wing an arm around Steve’s shoulder but thought better of it. “No biggie.”

He pouted, and made absolutely sure Steve could see him do it.

“Is this you trying to get more of my M&M brownies?” Steve asked after a moment.

“Oh my dear, sweet, athletic friend. Not at all. Instead, you are going to play the one shot I worked so hard on.” Eddie bounced his shoulder into him as he spoke.

It was a weird little compromise the two of them seemed to have, since Gareth had regularly witnessed Eddie ping-ponging off Steve’s shoulders. “Let us break your tabletop cherry.”

“Or what?” Steve asked, the tiniest bit of humor peaking through.

Eddie stared at him, abruptly still and completely serious. “I will cry, Steven. Loudly.”

It brought a small smile to Steve’s face.

“Fine. I’ll play your dumb dweeb game.” He said, and couldn’t seem to stop the smile from overtaking his face when Eddie threw his arms in the air and cheered.

“Come on, I’m pretty sure the bell rang forever ago.” Jeff said, as they began to venture out back to the main hallway.

(“Hey guys?” Steve asked, right before they all split up to go to their various classes. “Thanks. For the save.”

Eddie positively beamed. “Anytime, Steve. Anytime.”)

xXx

“Hey Gareth?” Steve asked a few days later, joining Gareth in the library during his free period.

(Gareth himself was skipping, because if he had to listen to yet another lesson on the Crucible he was going to declare himself a satan worshiping witch and demand to be hanged.)

Gareth hummed to show he heard, as he carefully took stock of the loot he’d gotten from their last game. Eddie had been pretty good about it for once, and he wanted to look things over before the one shot.

“Can I ask kind of a weird question?” Steve rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed.

“Shoot, Stevie.” Gareth replied, finally comfortable enough to use the main nickname Eddie had nailed the poor guy with.

“Did Eddie give me a character with bad eyesight or “night vision” or whatever, because he thinks I have bad eyesight?” Steve’s fingers made sassy little air quotations around “night vision” because he knew damn well it wasn’t called that and didn’t want to get chewed out.

It was appreciated, even if it was cheeky as shit.

Gareth stopped writing. “Why’d you think that?”

“He just keeps acting like I’m my character.” Steve replied with a shrug. “Like all that stuff we planned about how my character gets around and relies on the group since he can’t see that great in the daylight? He does it for me too.”

“It’s Eddie, he’s eccentric.” Gareth struggled to keep a straight face, trying not to give the game away.

Laughing would absolutely clue Steve in to the fact that Eddie was doing it on purpose.

“He just keeps telling me before he touches me. Outside of the game.” Steve continued, utterly baffled.

Of course, Eddie was doing far more than that, in order to keep up the appearance that he was just being a weirdo who was too into his game. (Instead of trying to alert Steve to the fact he was going to lean on him, hug him, or do any other thing involving skin to skin contact that usually made Harrington panic.)

“If you don’t like it you should tell him,” Gareth said. He knew it was the better option, encouraging Steve to communicate. They could come up with something else if this was too weird (as frankly, many of Eddie’s plans could be.

Bless the guy but he had a habit of going for the dramatic over the practical.)

“No!” Steve protested, far too quickly.

He cleared his throat with a cough, and continued in a much calmer voice, “No, I don’t wanna ruin his fun or anything.”

As far as excuses go for letting something happen it was a weak one, but Gareth wasn’t going to call him on it. If Steve wanted to hide behind Eddie and his “fun” then Gareth would happily pretend to buy it.

Would buy whatever excuse Steve needed, to help make the guy feel more comfortable and like himself than the still often vacant ghost that hung around now.

“Just wanted to know if he actually thought my eyesight sucked.” Steve finished in a mumble.

“Well you did trip over the curb that one time.” Gareth teased playfully, and shot a grin at Harrington when that awkward look of his melted into something more offended.

“I was walking backwards!” Steve defended, his normal, almost bitchy tone returning.

“Uh-huh. And what about when you almost ate shit over that garbage can and Eddie had to save you?” Gareth taunted.

He grinned, watching as a blush overtook the older boys face, Steve glancing away frantically and--

Oh.

Oh!

'Oh-ho, ho, ho!' Gareth thought with absolute glee. The entire fucking school knew what Steve looked like when he had a crush, (Steve himself had made sure of that with Nancy) and Gareth recognized the beginning of it happening all over again.

Steve Harrington had a crush.

On Eddie.

Gareth could work with this.

“You know….” He paused, grin turning sly as a sudden idea came to him. “If you want to mess with Eddie a little bit I have an idea.”

Steve stared at him, confused. “Why would we want to mess with him?”

Gareth leaned forward. “Because pranks are fun, Harrington. Legend has it you even used to do them.”

Steve still didn't look convinced, but the nice thing about a man like Steve was that all Gareth had to appeal to was his sense of adventure.

“Now." He clapped his hands together in a move that had very much been stolen years ago from Eddie. "How good are your acting skills?

Meant to post this yesterday but I got surprise laid off last week and that pushed me back a bit, sorries! Absolutely related, I have a Ko-Fi now lmao. It’s https://ko-fi.com/sp0o0kyghosthost

Unemployment should go through just fine so I don’t really think I need to full panic but hey if you wanna throw me a dollar and yell “Dance writer dance!” I’ll do a lil tippy-tap jig.

#fucking jobs #this ones a bit more whumpy #steddie #pre steddie #they gettin there though #hellfire adopts Steve #adopt a jock #eddie munson #steve harrington #gareth emerson #Nancys in this one #she cares theres just a lot of hurt there #Eddie on the other hand is JEALOUS #that is HIS jock thank you!#He is REHABBING that jock!#dont you make his Stevie sad!#Gareth is now playing matchmaker #Lap Wars is coming

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corrodedcoffins-blog · 1 month

Text

Meet the family

luke hughes x actress!reader

note: sorry it took so long but im happy i waited until i really liked it!

word count: 1.6 k

Going from New York to Michigan was not a long flight by any means. But going from Scotland to New York to Michigan in less than 70 hours was quite the heat, even for Y/n. It was around 9:00 pm in Michigan by the time Y/n arrived. She could have stayed in New York for the night, but when the other option was seeing Luke, she will always choose that option.

She was walking out of the airport now, looking around for the car Luke said he would be in. She spotted the type of car twice already, being let down both times when neither contained her boy. Finally she spots the head of curls, glad he clearly hasn’t seen her yet as she drags her suitcase behind herself. Clearly hearing the loud sound of the wheels on concrete Luke’s eyes shoot to where the sound is coming from to see what crazy manic is running in a parking lot, only for him to find out it’s his crazy maniac.

When she’s close enough Y/n drops the bag and jumps into the boy’s arms, her sweatpant clad legs wrapping around the tall boy’s hips, his hands dart to the back of her thighs in order to make sure she doesn’t slip off him. Tugging her up to wrap her legs around his torso now and her face buried in his neck. Leaving soft kisses and taking in the distant scent of his cologne.

Mumbled against his neck, her lips tickling the boy, Luke can just barely make out the words; though he knew what they were given he felt the same, “I missed you.” “I missed you too, and I love you. So much.” He replies, talking into her hair. “I love you too.”

After a few minutes, and a car honking, the couple finally broke away from the hug. Luke lifted her suitcase into the back, as well as opened her door like the gentlemen he was. They talked back and forth and catching up with one another, what they hadn’t already said over their many calls, texts, and facetimes.

“I’m excited to meet your family. Do you think they’ll like me? I mean I know you’ve said that they know of me and like me, but that’s as who I am to the public. Have you told them anything about me me?”

“I’ve only told them that you’re my girlfriend, though they didn’t believe me which I don’t blame them for because sometimes I don’t believe it. And the last day or so they’ve asked constant questions.” “Like what?” “Like if I love you” he says in a teasing voice, as if he just wants to mention he loves her any chance he gets, “Did you tell them you do?” “Yes.”

Luke opened the front door, allowing Y/n to go inside first while he drags her suitcase behind them with one hand and leading her in with his other hand on the small of the back. Kicking off his shoes he calls out for his family until he hears laughter coming from the backyard. Showing the girl to his room, he let her put her stuff away and into more comfortable clothes, before meeting his family.

Luke walked into the backyard first, pulling Y/n by their joined hands behind him. It was Dylan who noticed the couple first, elbowing Ethan and Rutger who got to the house last night.

“Oh- fuck!” Ethan’s words got the attention of the rest of the group, heads turning to face the back door the two were walking away from now.

“Hi! I’m Y/n.” The girl awkwardly waved, Ellen could tell the girl was nervous so she jumped up to greet her, smiling when she saw her son’s hand in the girl’s. “Hi, Y/n, I’m Ellen. Luke’s mom.” “Oh, of course. He’s told me so much about you!” The older woman brought her into a quick hug, shocking the girl even after Luke warned her. “And this is my husband, Jim.” Said man shakes the girl’s hand from his seat. “And Jack and Quinn.” She said as she pointed to the respective boys, “Mom-” “Okay, Lukey! I was just trying to make her comfortable.” The little interaction between Luke and his mom brought a smile to Y/n’s face, finally getting to see her boy in his natural habitat.

The night couldn’t have gone better, in everyone’s eyes, though Luke could have gone without a few of the embarrassing stories his brothers and friends told. Quinn noticed, when Jack was telling a story of young Luke having a massive crush on his now girlfriend's many on screen characters, his little brother’s hand searching for the girl’s playing with her fingers and her rings. It was those little moments that made him realise the seriousness of the relationship that he hadn’t heard of until three days ago.

Long gone were the days Luke would tell his brothers every little thing, needing advice on every decision he made. He was grown, got into a serious relationship without his brother’s input, with a girl perfect for him. Who had been begging to meet him and Jack as they heard on the facetime. And when the girl got up to help Ellen in the kitchen, Luke sweezed Y/n’s hand and watched as she walked up the backstairs talking to their mom, as if he couldn’t bear time away from her.

“I still don’t fucking belief it.” Dylan said, causing Luke to roll his eyes while he mutters something about Dylan under his breath that causes Rutger to laugh.

Quinn, deciding to break it up before it starts, says from across the fire, “I like her. She’s good for you, Lukey.” “Yeah. And she’s not what I thought she would be like.. In a good way.” Jack piggybacks on Quinn’s thought. Light red invades Luke’s cheeks hearing his brother’s approval of the girl he loves and cares for so much, even more so when Jim adds, “She fits right in with us. Glad to welcome her to the family.”

“I’ve never seen Luke like that before.” The woman’s words bring a smirk to Y/n’s face, hearing his mom say it solidified Luke’s words of ‘never being this in love before’, “I mean, he’s never brought a girl here-” “I didn’t know that.” “Oh yeah. Never to the lake house, he’s always said Lake house was family and friend’s time.” Her smirk turns into a full on grin at that.

“That’s how I know he really loves you.”

Y/n woke up to the subtle bumps of Luke’s nose against her neck as he adjusted his position to curl further into his girl. The feeling of strong arms were warm around her torso, fingers tracing different shapes onto her skin, after a moment she realised he was writing his name. Turning to her other side to now be facing Luke, the girl brings her own hands to trace up and down the boy’s bare chest.

“Good morning.” “G'morning, darling.” Luke replies in his deep and raspy morning voice while his body shivers slightly at the feeling of the girl’s light touch.

After laying together as they woke up, the couple finally started getting ready for the day, the boy grabbed her hand as they made their way downstairs. Reaching the bottom they saw most of the boys in the kitchen eating the pancakes Ellen made this morning before she and Jim left for the day.

“Morning, love birds!” Rutger got a smack upside the head from Luke for that one.

As the couple got their food and sat at the table the other boys were going over the plans for today. Something Y/n didn’t think they really had to ‘go over’ as they were just spending all day on the lake.

The idea of spending all day on a boat with her boyfriend’s friends and family she's just met, the possible awkwardness that there was no way of escaping was scary. But the day was going great, Y/n was only nervous for the first few minutes plucking at her nails Luke quickly noticed, grabbing her hand so she wouldn’t be able to any longer. Something that didn’t go unnoticed by his older brother’s.

Y/n was in a deep conversation with Trevor and Cole about what it was like to film the All Too Well short film, Luke, having heard all about it before, was zoned out twisting the girl’s hair around his finger as he listened to her voice. Every once in a while he would add to whatever his friends on the other side of him were talking about, but most of his attention went to the girl.

It was Jack this time that threw the pop can tab off his beer at his older brother who was driving the boat, getting his attention and directing his eyes to their little brother’s actions. Seeing their little Lukey staring at the girl he had a crush on since he started liking girl’s with the biggest heart eyes as she talks to his friends, with so much love in his eyes they knew she was the one.

There was no way, no matter what they went through, if there were hard times and rough fights, they would make it through it. You didn’t have the love they had for each other for just anyone, this was special.

Luke was grown. He had effortlessly found his one at age twenty, really fourteen if you think about it, and his brother’s couldn’t be more happy for him.

#luke hughes #luke hughes x actress!reader #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes x fem!reader #luke hughes x y/n #luke hughes fluff #luke hughes oneshot #luke hughes fic #luke hughes x famous!reader #lukey pookie #luke hughes x fem reader #hughes brothers #dylan duke #ethan edwards #rutger mcgroarty #nhl fic

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upsidedownwithsteve · 7 months

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Love Sucks II. The Interrogation

Vampire!Steve Harrington x fem!reader He’s just a gloomy, little guy.

The Masterlist 🩸

You scolded Eddie and Dustin immediately.

But Steve didn’t seem to mind, shrugging in that tired way that he did as he wandered off into the corner of the Wheeler’s kitchen with them. They’d set up an awful interpretation of what you deemed to be an interview room, the dining table pushed into the darker space where the light from the window didn’t reach, Nancy’s old desk lamp plugged in beside the microwave, the bulb shining harshly at the empty seat Steve was told to sit in.

He blinked as he did, tired eyes aggravated by the brightness but he just squinted and slumped in the chair, looking over at you with that longing way he did. You held up a coffee cup at him in question, smiling. He nodded, pleased.

“I assume you know why you’re here,” Eddie began as the rest of the party milled around aimlessly.

Some were listening, others were bickering about what to watch on TV. Nancy was making popcorn and Robin was already asleep in the armchair beside Max.

Steve nodded, knowing it was only a matter of time before he got the big brotherly talk from Eddie about you. He readied himself for the questions about his interest in you, his intentions, how he planned to keep you safe from—

“Can you turn into a bat?” Dustin asked instead.

Steve frowned, confused.

“Dustin!” You scolded the younger boy from across the kitchen, teaspoon clattering into the mug, coffee grains spilling on Mrs Wheeler’s countertop. “What the hell?”

“What?” Dustin yelled back, arms held out in question. “It’s a serious question!”

Eddie was grinning, wide and a little manic, looking from Steve to you and back again. “Well?” He asked the boy.

“This is so rude. You cannot be for real, Eddie.” You went ignored, eye roll and all.

“Um, no?” Steve answered, squinting at the two through the light they were intent on keeping aimed at him.

“You sound unsure,” Eddie countered, dubious. He wasn’t allowed to smoke in the Wheeler’s house so he was chewing on the end of a bubblegum pink straw instead. He waved it at your boyfriend, suspicious. “Is that because you haven’t tried or aren’t allowed to say?”

Steve looked at you for help. “Why wouldn’t I be allowed to say?” He replied weakly, visibly concerned and confused.

Dustin shrugged before leaning across the table, bright eyed and grinning toothily. “Vampire overlord, maybe?”

Steve shifted uncomfortably. You were still making coffee, too far out of reach for him to hold your hand. Steve loved holding your hand, you were so much softer and warmer than him and sometimes you painted your fingernails a really pretty colour— someone cleared their throat. “Uh, I don’t think I’ve met him yet…”

Eddie and Dustin reacted immediately to this answer, heads bent and producing a notebook from seemingly nowhere, scribbling down notes in chicken scratch handwriting about their ‘findings.’

“… does he live around here?” Steve tried once more. “Is he my boss? Am I going to get in trouble?”

You soothed him with a hand over his hair, appearing at his back to place down his coffee in front of him, black and unsweetened in a mug as big as a soup bowl.. “Sorry, baby,” you offered, shaking your head at your two friends.

Steve loved it when you called him baby.

It went on like that for a while, Ghostbusters playing in the living room while Eddie and Dustin kept Steve at the table under the spotlight, drilling him about things you could only shake your head at.

“Can you fly?”

“No.”

More notes written, a worrying sentence jotting down about taking Steve somewhere high for experimentation.

“Can you run fast?”

“Uh, I have asthma…”

“What about jumping? Can you jump onto the roof?”

“I haven’t like, you know,, tried. Heights are scary.”

Sighs, heavy and disappointed, came from the kitchen. Steve was pouting, arms crossed.

“Can you read minds?”

“No.”

A brief pause, and then Dustin whispered to Eddie, eyes narrowed and still on Steve: “he’s lying.”

“I’m not!”

“Can you turn invisible?”

“No.”

“Do you sleep in a coffin?”

“What? No?”

Eddie paused, studying Steve. “Unconvinced,” he concluded. “Further investigation required.”

“How come you can come out in the daylight?”

“I don’t know, but that lamp is super bright, guys..”

Stumped, Dustin and Eddie finally relented. Ghostbusters was just finishing, the rest of the kids tired from too much sugar and arguing about who the best team member was.

“So you’re just a really shitty vampire, huh?” Eddie asked, his nose scrunched and sounding unaffected.

“Kinda boring, actually,” Dustin agreed.

They were both staring at Steve with a little disappointment, like two kids who’d finally found out Santa Claus wasn’t real. They sighed again and got up, raiding the Wheeler’s pantry for snacks while they left behind a sad and insecure vampire.

You scowled at the boys as you passed, punching Eddie on the arm a little harder than what would be considered good natured. You nudged your way between Steve and the table, folding yourself onto his lap and into his arms. He wound himself around you immediately, grumbling softly into the crook of your neck about bats and powers and being a poor excuse for a cryptid.

Later, over dinner, you stole Eddie’s last slice of pizza and scolded him for giving your boyfriend a vampire complex.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington oneshot #steve harrington blurb #vamp!steve harrington #steve harrington fanfiction

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sinning-23 · 6 months

Text

Piercings (Sanji x Reader)

I’ve fallen down the one-piece rabbit hole and most likely have a new hyperfixation I don't care they’re all hot and I will write like my life depends on it. Anyway, ENJOY SOME SANJI 💃🏾✨

Pt.2 out now! (18+)

Warnings: flirting, heavy touching, mentions of needles, kissing omg so scary

You're leaning against the bathroom sink, trying your damdest to keep a steady hand while you try and slide the needle through the skin of your lip. This wasn’t your first rodeo, considering you have plenty of piercings from your past. Whether it was a manic episode, a silly little impulse decision, or one you'd been wanting for a while, you had them.

Being out on the ocean didn’t really leave you a chance to go and get them done by someone in a shop but you picked up tips and knew what to do for the most part. Besides, if you messed up, you'd just have a little story to tell about it later!

You focused, taking one swift, deep breath before letting the metal into your skin, moving calculated with the jewelry, eyes watching a bit from the shock. This one was a bit easier since you’d had them before and the holes had closed. Observing your face with a smile, satisfied with your work you exit the bathroom.

As far as you knew the only other person with a semi noticeable piercing was Zoro. And even though you two didn’t really bond over it, it was something you had in common. Nami had her ears pierced as well but that was cause you'd offered when she mentioned wanting them. Commotion from the kitchen slows you down and you can’t help but let curiosity get the best of you. It was most likely just Sanji making something for lunch.

“Good morning!” You announce, making your way to the countertop to take a seat.

As predicted, Sanji was focused on his craft, hands moving from different ingredients to one big pot and two smaller pans steaming away behind him. Nami waves and smiles in response as Luffy follows behind her, snatching up an orange before smiling your way.

"Good morning Y/n!" Luffy beams, the kitchen falling in silence once again when the pair leaves.

...does this mf not see you sitting here all pretty?

"Good morning to you too my beautiful, wonderfully glorious, super sexy, absolutely adored y/n" You state, albeit a bit teasing.

He looks up for a moment, not missing the way you had rolled your eyes at the fact that he hadn't bothered to return the acknowledgment to you.

"Good morning chérie." He smiles, always intrigued by your chipper yet, slightly flirtatious attitude.

When you first arrived, it was really just to be an extra set of hands and someone with a rather extensive knowledge of islands. Not to mention pretty damn good with the locals considering you were a people person much like your captain. Anyway, Sanji tried his hand at the compliments and pet names, but you always returned them with quick wit.

In all honesty, it shocked him, and soon you were engaged in a mutual flirtatious game of cat and mouse. Pet names became hushed compliments and whispers in one anothers ear. Brief touches became prolonged and damn could you two hold eye contact. At this point, it was basically an eye-fucking starting contest.

You grin at him, tucking your lower lip between your teeth.

Sanji paused for a moment to examine your face, four shiny dots along your lower lip, two on either side. He swallows hard, trying to shake himself out of his thoughts. What a pretty mouth.

"New piercings?" He questions, turning away from you and back to the stove.

You give a quick, "mhm!" and hop off to hover beside him.

"Shark bites, I mean, we are on the open ocean so why not!" You explain, leaning against the stove for a moment before jumping back with a hiss. Leave it to you to get injured while trying to mess around and chat in a busy kitchen!

It's instantaneous when Saji turns to see if you're injured, his own coming to yours to observe the burn. It wouldn't be the first item he's asked you to not mess around in here while he's working but you were so damn hardheaded, he knew this. But you just couldn't help it!

Unbeknownst to him, being around him and seeing him was the highlight of your day. You'd be lying if you said you hadn't developed feelings for the flirt. But considering he wasn't just flirty with just you, but Nami too, you'd made plenty of excuses and reasons to back off, even toning down your flirting a bit, thinking that you were getting in the way of who he really wanted.

It always killed you on the inside little bit, thinking of how one day maybe Nami would fall victim to his charm like you had. She'd be the one to whisper things to him, the one to press kisses to his face in adoration maybe. It was an odd way to punish yourself and keep your distance, imagining unrequited love but hey, to each their own.

However, unbeknownst to YOU as well, Sanji had developed a old-fashioned crush. How could he not! He loved the teasing, if he was being completely honest. He loved how you stayed just close enough to him to make his heart beat faster. He'd be more than happy to have you closer in all honesty. Pretty face, pretty personality, witty, fierce, bold as hell might he add.

Not to mention shawty got a body on her- Sanji redirects his focus, looking up into those pretty (e/c) eyes.

Taking your hand he pushed it under the icy water from he sink a silence washing over you.

His hands are bigger than yours, littered with scars as he rubs circles over the top of your hand in comfort. You swallow hard, trying to distract yourself from how warm his grasp feels on your wrist. Gentle but warm, contrasting with the harsh water. He's focused, lips and teeth fiddling with a small silver sphere while he turns the water off and grabs the aid kit beside him.

"Sanji." You breathe out, searching his eyes and lips briefly.

"Stick out your tongue....please?" You ask, seeing him swallow hard, ears flushed red., heat spreading to his cheeks. He doesn't follow through with the request.

Using your free hand, you follow the curve of his jaw before using your thumb to slide down his lips. Soft.

"I'll show mine if you show yours." You offer, letting your tongue slide over your lips deceivingly.

He's got this damn irresistible puppy look in his eyes, his lips parking only a bit before he sticks his tongue out, the silver shining in the kitchen light.

You bit your lower lip for a moment, letting your tongue do the same, only for him to find that it was split. He stopped dressing your hand now, the pain greatly dulled with a new distraction.

"Any more surprise body mods I should know about?" Sanji questions, voice dripping with desire.

Keeping your distance was a joke at this point because you'd be damned if you did have your lips on him within the next 10 seconds.

"I could ask you the same. Though, you should take me out before you see what else I have on my body? Don't you think Sanji?" You whisper his name, testing the waters.

It doesn't take much else for him to lean forward, your lips connecting like puzzle pieces. It's a soft pec at first, but soon becomes hungry and consuming, his pierced tongue sliding over your split one. It's hotter in here, his body caging you in, your hands fighting between staying on him, or resting against the countertop for support.

The tobacco on his tongue is addicting, just as much as the way he makes a point to make you feel the small metal sphere. There's only a moment to breathe, but when you do your right back on each other, this time, finding more stability with your arms around his neck, and his hands at your hips, thumbs tracing just above the curve of your ass. And then he feels it.

"Back dermals. Impulse decision but the backshots are nice."You hum, pulling at his lower let gently with your teeth.

He groans, the grip on your hips becoming tighter when he dips his lips down to the skin of your neck, sucking for a moment in debate. Your bodies are pressed flush against each other, his ears red as the color spreads to his cheeks. It's so damn hot in here.

"Backshots huh?"All takes is a whimper from you and he's back to work, the metal from his piercing sliding over your skin.

A look of horror washes over you before you can respond back, and you're pushing against him in a hurry. He opens his mouth to question what's wrong, anxiety seeping into his chest but before he can ever get a chance to overthink, you're already shouting.

"THE STOVE, SANJI! THE STOVE! ITS ON FIRE!"

____________________

LMK IF YOU WANN BE TAGGED IN PT.2

that one gets a little(a lot) spicier and uninterrupted by kitchen chaos and fire hazards

#x reader #vinsmoke sanji #sanji #one piece sanji #sanji live action #sanji x reader #one piece #one piece live action #opla x reader #one piece x reader #i don't care he's hot #this is my current obsession so bear with me

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corruptedcaps · 2 months

Text

Valentine

“Be your Valentine? Leave me alone Zane! And get that weird suit away from me!” Holly cried out as Zane the school’s bully approached her with a beautiful but unnerving skin suit. It was like anything Holly had ever seen. Big boobs clung to its frame, long blonde hair cascaded down its back, long painted nails stuck out from its fingers.

Its face, despite being lifeless, nevertheless seemed to have a bitchy confidence that Holly found intimidating.

“Put it on Holly then you and I can rule this school as it’s king and queen. Remember your dorky friend Lawrence? Well guess who I used to be before I found my suit.” Zane said grinning manically as he turned around to show her a zipper that was sticking out of his neck.

Holly’s eyes went wide. Could this really be Lawrence? The kind and nerdy boy she used to have lunch with every day until he suddenly moved without warning? Zane did appear around then. Could a suit really change someone that much? Regardless, Holly wanted none of this.

“Even if I believe you, I’m never putting on something so slutty and mean. Get lost!” Holly said defiantly.

“Fine. If you insist. Maybe I’ll just ask Lisa to be my Valentine, I’m sure she’ll say yes. It’s a shame because the suit really wants you, I can tell.” Zane said half heartedly turning around to leave.

Lisa was Holly’s friend, a shy girl who Holly knew would fold under pressure from an intimidating presence like Zane. He was going to get a girl to wear it no matter what, could Holly let that happen to some innocent girl when she could take the bullet right now. At least that’s what she said to justify her following actions.

“Stop! Ugh fine, give me the stupid suit.” She said exasperated. Handing her the suit Holly felt its soft skin with a mixture of wonder and repulsion. Stripping down to just her underwear she slipped her bare feet inside the feet of the suit. She expected a feeling of moisture but instead it was warm and cozy like a blanket.

“See this isn’t so bad is it? Nice toned and tanned legs, sure makes a change from those pale chicken thighs of yours.” Said a voice suddenly inside her head that wasn’t her own and yet she nodded in agreement.

The suit clung to her skin and she felt an immediate sting followed by a wave of pleasure as the nerve endings of the suit latched onto to her own. She ran he hand down her new legs and was amazed at how they felt like they were really apart of her.

“Don’t think of them of them as the suit’s, think of them as your own because they are yours now. Perfect slim and flexible legs. You know what goes well with that? A flat and toned tummy.” The voice continued with a sultry purr and Holly eagerly grabbed at the suit and pulled herself more into it.

The stomach connected to her belly with a satisfying slurp and she surpressed a moan as the suit’s bare pussy sucked onto her own. Involuntarily her eyes rolled into the back of her head as she felt the clit’s merge into one.

“Mmm can you imagine a stud like Zane going to town on your new pussy. His big cock would feel incredible inside you wouldn’t it?” The voice whispered and Holly could only manage a little whimper as she imagined the encounter. Only minutes ago she thought of Zane as nothing more of a bully but as she eyed him up and down watching her with increased lust she couldn’t stop thinking of his sweaty body rubbing up against hers.

“Not your pathetic body though, he doesn’t want those flat tits and flabby ass against his Adonis of a body, he wants a queen’s. Keep going!” The voice urged but Holly was already lifting the perfectly rounded rear end onto her meagre set. It instantly magnetized onto her own. She slapped it to test out the feeling and with a sly smirk approved.

Next she lifted the big boobs of the suit onto her own and for a moment worried the nerve endings wouldn’t reach other but as soon as it was in place she felt the suit fill in the difference. Her nipples immediately grew hard and she couldn’t help but touch them which proved to only excite her more.

“Imagine how much better they’ll feel with a permanent French manicure on your hands but where will you find those?” The voice said sarcastically. Holly slipped her hands into arms of the suit, slowly making her way to the fingertips, enjoying the sensation. She turned her new hands over and over, looking at her new nails in delight. They were long, sharp, and dangerous.

“Mmm these are perfect for tapping on a table while you watch a clique of mean girls loyally follow your every order, doesn’t that sound so fucking hawt?” The voice added and it filled Holly’s head with images of being the new queen bee at high school.

Holly couldn’t help but smirk at the thought. The idea of wielding that kind of power, of being someone everyone looked up to—or feared—was intoxicating. She had always been more of a background character, someone who blended into the margins of high school life. But this, this could be her chance to rewrite her story, to be the one in control.

“But wait,” Holly thought, a sliver of doubt piercing her daydream, “is that really what I want? To be feared? To be someone who leads through intimidation?” She pondered the voice’s seductive offer, the promise of instant popularity and power. Yet, as she did, she remembered the times she’d been on the receiving end of those glares, those whispered judgments. It wasn’t a good feeling, being on the outside looking in.

The voice seemed to sense her hesitation, its tone shifting ever so slightly. “Think of it, Holly. No more being ignored. No more being overlooked. You can have it all: the friends, the status, the power. Zane. All you need to do is say give in.”

As Holly envisioned herself surrounded by a loyal entourage, commanding attention and respect (or was it fear?) with every tap of her nails, a sense of exhilaration washed over her. This was it—this was what she wanted. To be powerful, to be envied, to be the epitome of beauty and authority. The idea of becoming the queen bee, of leading with an iron fist in a velvet glove, was making her unbearably wet.

“Yes I want it. I want it all!” Holly thought, the voice’s seductive promise igniting a fire within her. She could almost feel the power coursing through her veins, fueled by every admiring and envious glance thrown her way. The thought of being at the top, untouchable, and making the rules was all that mattered.

“There’s only one thing left to do. Put on your new face, become the bad bitch you long to be.” The voice said echoing in Holly’s mind. Holly shoved her face into the suits pretty but cold and calculating face. She felt the big bitchy lips settle onto her thin pursed pair. Long eyelashes wrapped around her eyes given her a darkly intense stare.

The suit’s zipper magically rolled up and under her now long gorgeous blonde mane. As the zipper closed she let out one final gasp as if the last vestiges of her pure soul was squeezed out and an evil blackness enveloped her heart.

“My god, Holly, you look even better than I had hoped.” Zane said looking at her hungrily. However she reacted to him calling her by her name like she smelt something foul.

“Holly? Do I look like a Holly?” She said in mild disgust.

“Of course not babe, what should I call you then?” Zane replied knowing the disgust she felt.

She turned to the nearby mirror and looked at her new form, waiting for inspiration. She needed a name dripping in luxury, one that was both elegant and powerful. Then she remembered what day it was and a smirk crossed her lips.

“Valentina.” She uttered. As soon as she said it, it was if her new persona solidified in her mind. Striking her hair she knew exactly what kind of mean bitch Valentina was and would be.

“Valentina? A perfect name for a perfect woman.” Zane grinned as he stalked up next to her. She turned and wrapped her arms around his neck. He smelt good and she couldn’t wait until he treated her like the queen that she now was. However the voice instead her head returned with some wicked words.

“I’m sure he’ll be a perfectly fine king by your side but think of how much hotter it would be to put a true bully in his suit.” The voice whispered and Valentina found herself getting aroused at the idea of betrayal. So much so that her hand was already toying with the zipper on his neck. The question was would she fuck him first or just fuck him over. It was her day, she could whatever she wanted.

#f2f #corruption #bitchification #corrupted bodysuit #corrupted couple

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elryuse · 17 days

Note

Yandere older sister Chengxiao x younger brother reader she obsessed with him and never wants him to leave her and stay with her forever with smut

FORBIDDEN DESIRE

Yandere Older Sister Cheng Xiao X Male Younger Brother Reader (Slight SMUT)

Y/n stared at the muted television, the blaring K-pop music a distant hum in his ears. Images of his sister, Cheng Xiao, flashed across the screen, her flawless face and captivating dance moves mesmerizing millions. Yet, to Y/n, she was just a stranger with a familiar face.

Cheng Xiao had been a whirlwind of fame ever since she debuted as a K-pop idol years ago. Their childhood memories were fragmented at best, stolen by her relentless training and packed schedules. He barely remembered the warmth of her hugs, the sound of her laughter, replaced by hurried goodbyes and forced smiles.

A pang of loneliness tightened his chest. He missed her, the sister he barely knew. But whenever he tried to bridge the gap, he was met with a polite smile and a dismissal disguised as work commitments.

Suddenly, a news alert blared on the screen, shattering the silence. It was a report about a car accident involving Cheng Xiao. Y/n's heart lurched into his throat. The details were blurry, but one sentence slammed him to his core: "critical condition, emergency surgery."

Panic clawed at him. He scrambled to his feet, phone clutched tightly in his hand. He dialed Cheng Xiao's number repeatedly, each unanswered ring a hammer blow to his chest. Finally, a voice, unfamiliar and strained, picked up. It was their aunt, informing him about Cheng Xiao's urgent need for a kidney transplant.

Y/n didn't hesitate. He volunteered, a wave of protectiveness washing over him. It was the least he could do for the sister he barely knew. The surgery was a blur of anxiety and hope. Days turned into weeks as Y/n recovered in the sterile hospital room. He barely slept, his mind constantly checking on Cheng Xiao in the adjacent room.

One day, the door creaked open revealing a pale, gaunt Cheng Xiao. Her eyes, usually sparkling with life, were dull and shadowed. But when they landed on him, a flicker of recognition ignited within them. Tears welled up in her eyes, spilling down her cheeks as she choked out, "Y/n… you saved me."

Her voice, usually strong and confident, was a broken whisper. Y/n felt a surge of warmth bloom in his chest. This was Cheng Xiao, vulnerable and real, a stark contrast to the distant K-pop idol on the screen.

From that day on, a change swept through their relationship. Cheng Xiao, discharged from the hospital, made a conscious effort to connect. They spent evenings watching movies, Y/n patiently explaining the plot points lost due to her years in Korea. She cooked for him, her laughter filling the once-silent apartment with a melody he never knew he craved.

One night, as they sat on the couch, a comfortable silence settling around them, Cheng Xiao reached out and took his hand. Her touch sent a jolt through him, a spark of something unfamiliar. He looked into her eyes, expecting warmth, but found a possessive glint that sent shivers down his spine.

"Y/n," she started, her voice a husky whisper, "You saved my life. You're my hero."

He smiled, his heart stuttering in his chest. "We're siblings, Cheng Xiao. That's what siblings do for each other."

But her grip tightened, her gaze burning into his. "No, Y/n," she breathed, her voice laced with a possessiveness he couldn't decipher. "You're mine. You gave me a part of yourself, and now I want all of you."

Y/n's smile faltered. He stammered, trying to pull his hand free. "Cheng Xiao, what are you saying? This isn't… this isn't right."

But she wouldn't let go. Her eyes, once filled with gratitude, now flickered with a manic intensity. "You saved me, Y/n," she insisted, her voice thick with emotion. "Now, let me save you. Let me be the only one you need."

Fear, cold and sharp, snaked its way into Y/n's gut. He tried to reason with her, to explain the boundaries between siblings, but her words fell on deaf ears. The sister he yearned for had morphed into something dark and possessive.

The nights that followed were a chilling descent into madness. Walls seemed to close in, the once-comfortable apartment transformed into a gilded cage. Cheng Xiao became clingy, her affection suffocating. She'd follow him around the house, her gaze an unnerving constant.

One night, Y/n woke up to the faint scent of lavender, his sister's favorite. He sat up, heart hammering in his chest, as he saw a dark figure leaning over him. It was Cheng Xiao, her eyes gleaming in the moonlight, a seductive smile playing on her lips

Y/n's breath hitched in his throat. Panic clawed at him, but before he could even stammer a protest, Cheng Xiao's lips were on his. The familiar scent of lavender mingled with the sweetness of her lip gloss, sending a confusing jolt through him.

The kiss wasn't gentle; it was desperate, possessive. Her hand snaked around his neck, her fingers digging into his skin as she deepened the kiss. Y/n froze, his mind in a war between confusion and a primal instinct to respond.

He tasted her fear, a strange undercurrent beneath the sweetness of her cherry lip balm. It was a fear that mirrored his own, a fear that twisted into something else entirely. He found himself responding, his hand hesitantly reaching for her waist.

Cheng Xiao moaned into the kiss, a sound that sent shivers down his spine. It was a sound of hunger, a yearning so intense it scared him. He pulled back slightly, gasping for breath. Her eyes, usually sparkling with mischief, were now dark and hungry, her gaze fixed on him with an intensity that made him feel like prey.

"Y/n," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "Don't leave me. You're mine now. We're connected, you and I."

He wanted to argue, to explain the lines she was crossing, but the words wouldn't come. He was trapped in the storm of her emotions, caught in the headlights of her obsessive gaze. Before he could find his voice, her lips were back on his, this time softer, more seductive.

She explored his mouth with a newfound urgency, her touch igniting a fire within him he couldn't explain. Her hand trailed down his chest, sending shivers down his spine. His own inhibitions crumbled like sandcastles under a tidal wave. He was drowning in her touch, a prisoner of his own conflicting emotions.

He found himself kissing her back, his own hands roaming her body, a desperate attempt to make sense of the situation. He felt a mixture of guilt, fear, and a strange, exhilarating thrill. The lines were blurring, and he wasn't sure he had the strength to fight the current.

The kiss escalated quickly, their clothes becoming an obstacle they both desperately wanted to remove. Cheng Xiao, fueled by a feverish obsession, undressed him with trembling hands. He was her savior, her hero, and now, she possessed him completely.

The night was a blur of tangled limbs and stolen breaths. Cheng Xiao devoured him with a frenzy that left him breathless and weak. Every touch, every kiss, was laced with a possessiveness that sent shivers down his spine. He felt like a doll in her hands, manipulated to fulfill a twisted desire.

When dawn finally broke, painting the sky with streaks of orange and pink, Y/n lay sprawled beside her, utterly drained. He felt a deep ache in his muscles, a physical manifestation of the emotional turmoil he couldn't process.

Cheng Xiao, on the other hand, seemed radiant. Her eyes glowed with a dark satisfaction, as if she had finally claimed what was rightfully hers. She cupped his face, her thumb tracing the line of his jaw.

"See, Y/n," she murmured, her voice laced with a chilling sweetness. "We fit perfectly. You'll never want to leave me now, will you?"

Y/n tried to speak, to voice the unease churning in his stomach, but no words came out. He was trapped, caught in the web of her twisted affection. As the days blurred into weeks, the nights became a relentless cycle of passionate encounters.

Cheng Xiao became clingy, her possessiveness reaching suffocating levels. She'd monitor his every move, his phone calls, his texts, a jealous glint in her eyes whenever he interacted with another girl.

"They don't understand you," she'd hiss, her voice dripping with venom. "Only I understand the bond we share. We're more than siblings, Y/n. We're one."

Y/n, exhausted from the emotional and physical toll, felt himself withdrawing. He craved normalcy, the company of friends, a life outside the suffocating walls of their apartment. But every attempt to break free was met with a silent storm of tears and accusations.

He was her lifeline, the living embodiment of her gratitude, a twisted version of love that kept him tethered to her side. He was a prisoner in a gilded cage, a trophy on her shelf, a possession she refused to share.

#cheng xiao icons #wjsn cheng xiao #yandere x reader #yandere roleplay #yandere #kpop #kpop x reader #kpop x y/n #x male reader #sexy content #beautiful #apreciation post #update #kpop smut #accident #18+ only #18+ content

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tarttheart · 6 months

Text

KNITWORTHY - JAMIE TARTT x YOU

summary: you pick up knitting and Jamie could not be more supportive.

word count: 1.4k

warnings: language

The first time you made anything for Jamie, it was a plain pair of socks in a sandy beige colour. It was nothing fancy and you were certain one side was longer than the other. It had been a long time since you last knit so you were just happy to have finished something after impulsively picking up some yarn and needles again after work one day. Work had been manic and you were looking for something to help you unwind each night. Picking up the needles again just seemed right.

“I love them. Babe, these are fucking amazing,” Jamie proclaimed.

You probably would not have believed Jamie solely based on his words but his awestruck expression spoke heaps to how he felt. And, if that had not been enough, watching him proudly pull them on in the morning to wear to Nelson Road was all the proof you needed that the man was knit-worthy.

Knitted socks were not the most common sight around Nelson Road, especially not on one Jamie Tartt. Sports socks had long been his sock of choice until recently. While the beige socks had gotten a couple of curious looks, it was nothing too peculiar given how temperatures had dropped in the past week or so. It seemed a simple and effective solution to keeping warm, so effective that a few others decided to jump on the bandwagon.

“My toes feel like they’re at the beach in Chacala. I can hear the waves calling,” Dani quipped the first time he tried wearing woolly socks to training.

“Me too, boyo, it doesn’t even matter I look like I’m wearing my granddad’s socks,” Colin agreed.

You had gotten hooked on knitting hats. After making yourself three in the span of a month, you were on the hunt for more heads to make beanies for. Luckily, Jamie kindly volunteered and even got involved with the process, choosing a bold, variegated yarn for his beanie. It took no time at all and within a week of casting on, Jamie was rocking his new headwear at Nelson Road.

It was definitely an unusual sight, not seeing an ICON cap atop Jamie’s head but with how chilly it had been, no one thought too much about it.

“I didn’t realise you wore beanies,” Keeley commented one day as she passed him in the hallway.

“Fuck yeh, I do now,” Jamie replied.

“Looks good,” Keeley offered and Jamie practically bounced away much to Keeley’s amusement.

He came home to tell you about how good your beanies looked and it had to be true because Keeley said so and Keeley knows all about fashion.

“Babe, babe, I think you could fucking sell these and making a fucking fortune,” Jamie continued excitedly and you laughed.

Following the success of the first pair of socks, you knew another pair had to be made. It took a little while but when you chanced upon a yarn colourway called “Tart”, you were sold. Sure, it probably was not a colour in Jamie’s usual colour palette but it was a nice wine colour that you were confident he would look good in regardless.

The last pair of socks had been a real plain vanilla pair of socks and having had a little more practice now, you were ready to dive into something more textured for Jamie’s second pair of socks.

You were pretty proud of the end product and you swore Jamie lit up brighter than the New York City skyline when you handed them over. He had been eagerly awaiting their completion, watching you like a hawk each night and trying to figure out when you would have them done. One pair of woolly socks just was not enough to satisfy the man now that he had gotten a taste of toasty toes.

Jamie gave you no time or opportunity to wash the socks before he wore them. He needed these socks in his life right away and you were happy to oblige. Jamie excitedly wore his socks to Nelson Road the next day which caught a few more eyes this time. Afterall, it was even more of an unusual look for Jamie.

“Pretty sure those are hand knitted,” Bumbercatch commented from across the locker room one day as the resident knitting know-it-all.

“Yeh, his mum probably made it for him, bruv,” Issac said dismissively.

It had been a fair guess. Afterall, no one knew you existed. You were a naturally private person and you knew all that came with being Jamie’s girlfriend. What if it didn’t last and you had to then deal with all the fallout? Jamie understood and you agreed you two could go semi-public after Christmas if you guys were still together then. While Jamie had initially been disappointed, he came to really enjoy having something that was truly his. No media, no team chatter.

Jamie decided he had been benefitting too much from your new hobby without properly compensating you for your time and effort. Remembering that Bumbercatch was an avid knitter, Jamie stopped him one day seeking advice on tools he could get you to further your craft.

“What would you get as a present for a knitter?” Jamie asked Bumbercatch after everyone else had emptied from the locker room.

“Yarn is always good. There’s local yarn shop a few blocks away that has a good selection and they have some good tools too,” Bumbercatch offered.

With Christmas round the corner, Bumbercatch did not think much about it. Based on what he had been led to believe, Jamie was likely buying something for his mum.

It had been a real labour of love. When Jamie had presented you with a beyond generous amount on a gift card and a set of fancy interchangeable needles, you knew you had to go big for his Christmas present. It had been a little hard to hide all the balls of yarn you had had to buy. It was even trickier trying not to make his present in front of him because you knew you would crack and tell him what it was the moment he gave you his big adoring eyes. But, all the late nights spent knitting out of Jamie’s sight and afternoons spent hiding in cafes to knit had been worth it.

“Babe, you fucking made this?”

You had been so excited to present him your pièce de résistance you were practically vibrating as he held up the cream cabled sweater vest. You knew it was not his usual look but it felt special making something not basic for Jamie.

“I know it’s not exactly the Jamie Tartt style but I wanted to do something more instead of just a basic knit. I would’ve made you a sweater but I didn’t want the sweater curse to come true so I thought maybe a vest would be a good loophole? You don’t have to wear it out or at a—…”

Jamie did not let you finish blabbering because he grabbed your face to plant an appreciative kiss on your lips.

“I’m fucking wearing this everywhere, love, this thing is fucking magic,” Jamie proclaimed and you were not quite sure what he meant by magic but you appreciated the thought anyway.

The first day back at training after Christmas had most buzzing. It was always nice and energizing to have a good break with loved ones, whether it was spent with their own families or Higgins’. But, when Jamie walked in in his cozy cream cabled sweater vest like he was in a hallmark movie, the whole facility stilled.

“Morning, lads,” Jamie greeted, paying no attention to way the room had quietened after his entry.

Bumbercatch nudged Colin who stood next to him, “I think Jamie has a girlfriend.”

“What’s got you thinking that, boyo?”

“That vest. It’s a recent release online by a big knitwear designer. It’s not a mum pattern. See?”

Colin and Isaac looked at the page on Bumbercatch’s phone and he was right. The vest Jamie was wearing looked almost identical to the one in the photo.

“It could—…”

Sick of all the speculations, Isaac turned and yelled out to Jamie, “BRUV!”

“Yea, man? What’s got your knickers in a twist?”

“Your vest. Who made it?”

“Oh,” Jamie paused for a moment before remembering that Christmas had passed and it was now safe for him to answer, “me girlfriend. She’s a fucking knitting genius.”

#jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt x ofc #jamie tartt x y/n

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hxltic · 10 months

Text

ON YOUR KNEES. SUNA RINTAROU

part one | part two

Before you could think about how awkward it’d be if Suna wasn’t in here (or somebody else was), the door quickly clicks and an arm suddenly peeks out to rip you inside. A glimpse of soft, pale skin with the occasional court burn mark that scarred into a slightly darker version of his complexion allows you to recognize this as him; however, you meet face to face anyway with the door to your back and his breath fanning into your nose, only standing nearly an inch away from your face.

“Hello,” you boop his nose.

“Hello?” A wave of irritation surges through him, resulting in him only stepping closer. You didn’t think his eyes could get any narrower. This was a new amusing sight because you’d never really seen him genuinely angry, always just smug and insulting. “What the hell was that?” His eyebrows deepen as he rectifies you.

“Payback.” You grumble. Your eyes flicker up to him kindly.

In pure disbelief, he pauses before arguing, “That’s your payback? You do realize had anyone picked up on it your brother would’ve slaughtered me?”

You shrug and fiddle with your fingers carelessly. This most likely only angered him more, but was he even actually angry? He has yet to yell at you…just…establish his concerns.

“Yeah, but that’s what you get. Be glad people didn’t find out.”

“Find out you just gave me a handjob?” His head tilts as he looks down at you in annoyance. Your orbs roll into the back of your head, driving a strong sigh.

You exclaim, “You started it!” causing him to rush to explain himself. With a few steps back he runs his hands through his hair manically. His chest rises and falls in deep breaths. Yelling at you was not an option but he was trying really damn hard to get it across to your stubborn ass.

“I didn’t start it. You kept shoving and touching me after I told you to stop.”

“I didn’t know I was doing that!”

“I told you that too, did I not?”

Both of you stare at each other. He was technically right, and you didn’t want to admit it, especially now as you are backed into a door with an angry Suna that you hate to say you find attractive. You kind of wish he got angry more often; it felt good to get under his skin.

“But you liked it.” You cross your arms. He seemed to be thinking of the next move, staring off mindlessly. This catches his attention immediately.

“What? So?”

“So?” you parrot.

What does he mean so? Clearly the confusion displayed on your face, convincing him to take the steps he took away from you back to get in your face again. With a solid countenance and an extreme amount of patience, he whispers. If he leaned forward just a bit y’all would be forehead to forehead.

“It doesn’t matter how I felt. It doesn’t matter you felt. Your brother is somewhere on the other side of this door.”

You tease him and drop your head to the side while your eyes match his. “What, you scared of him?”

“You-“

Your arms reach out to wrap around him in a hug, rendering him idle. You touch all over him, including connecting your fingers behind his neck on your tippy toes and even lifting his shirt the slightest bit to run the pads of your fingers along the dips of his sharp v-line to belly button. The fleshy part of your cheek rests on his chest when you bat your eyelashes at him. He refuses to look at you, ridden of all anger to keep his cool as you tempt him.

You slip a nail under his waistband on one hand and bring the other to palm at his print again. It wasn’t even just a bulge—everything was on display for you. Suna was just waiting to snap. From the time in the doorway to the table, his resolve was enough to impress himself, but he’s not so sure if that’s a veracious reward in comparison to your body.

A strong grip stops any movement. The male takes a deep breath, then bends down to your eye level so you could hear him loud and clear, front and center: “Your brother is my friend. You are his sister.”

The words replayed in his head a thousand times to keep him grounded, yet somehow they didn’t process, like a book you thought you were reading but instead you were just running your eyes over the pages cluelessly.

You were right. He wasn’t angry because you did it, he was angry because he can’t have you. There was a slight misconception.

You survey his pinkish lips, then back at him. With a squeeze hard enough to re-darken his eyes, you nag him.

“Pussy.”

“Drop to your knees, back to the door. Don’t say a fucking word.” He hisses declaratively.

It was a switch in his brain that you clicked with your acrylics. Although, you can say how embarrassing it was how fast you followed his orders. The jacket on your back ended up on the floor to protect your knees.

While you questioned whether to be annoying or not, Suna dug a hand into his sweatpants and started stroking himself. You watched as his hands trail up and down, only to twist at the height of his shaft and tug at the base. You’d been watching for only a small amount of time before your shorts started to become uncomfortable.

The man hovered over you while jerking himself off, eyes glaring bullets through yours. By this point you still haven’t said anything.

“You done this before?” He questions from above. Do you respond? Verbally?

You just shake your head back and forth.

A side of his lip lifts and it’s enough for your shoulders to slightly hunch. Would you be you if you obeyed him?

“You’re obedient now? You want it this bad?” This time he outwardly laughs at you, but removes his hand. You scoot backwards until you reach the door.

Suna hears a soft “yes” in response, so soft he could be just imagining he heard it. This was enough for him. He grabbed his length before shoving his waistband down his hips, not enough to fall in a pool at his feet but enough to leave his cock heavy in his hand, ending with a dark trail of groomed hair. You shift in your shorts.

Palm-up, a hand silently asks for yours, which when once received was wrapped around the shaft. You hadn’t seen it until now, only a little darker and redder than the rest of him, larger than you suppose what the average was, and pink with a brown tint at the top. With two hands instead of one, up and down, and with the hand on top handling his tip, you run it over any white leaking out to spread. His head throws back for a deep, sexy groan, and you promise yourself to do whatever you can to hear it again.

Your lips give it an open-mouthed kiss, you’re tongue peeking out to circle around as your lips cover more and more of his cock with each rebound of your head. Gradually, saliva spilled from your lips, coating more and more of him and small bubbles to form around your mouth. Soon he was slick, and a constant pace was set on your own.

He couldn’t do anything but stand there and question if this was really your first time, how long you would crave more than just the friction of your thighs, and what would it take to get you completely comfortable. Questions swarmed through his brain at your talented mouth. Long fingers search through your hair with uncertainty, not quite sure what he was allowed to do yet, but just resting them there as the slurp entertains him. Grunts and moans fall from his mouth, at least letting you know you were doing okay alongside the fact he was moving with you. You wanted to hear it from him.

You disconnect your lips from a little over halfway down his cock to speak.

You purr, “Is it okay?”

“Yeah, just like that. Twist it for me.” You correct your hand positioning and twist on the way up and back, naturally gathering whatever could drip its way down to his balls. Now thinking about how neglected they were, you fit whatever of his cock you could in your mouth and jerked the rest, then using the opposite hand to massage them. With an exiting pop you come off and suck on them, both fluidly coming into your mouth with ease.

“Fuck, life’s much better when you’re quiet.”

One of Rin’s hands drop by his side while the other tightens in your hair to move wherever you did. No pressure. The view was mainly of his chin because when he wasn’t examining you he was thinking. Or maybe it was the opposite, and he wasn’t thinking. A rumble reverberates on his dick, and it didn’t take him long to figure out that was a response to your hair being pulled.

It takes everything in him not to roll his hips deep in your throat, so when you completely disregarded his past statement, and took it as an opportunity to do the opposite, he couldn’t help it when you mutter, “Being quiet isn’t my specialty.”

“Well let’s go deeper and see how well you can talk then hm? Call it throat training.”

This time he took matters into his own hands by making sure you were completely parallel to the wall, instructing you to open your mouth, holding two strong hands full of hair in the form of messy pigtails, and sliding in slow as much as possible to fit until you were unable to go any further. There may have been 2 more inches left?

After a few passes of glucks coming from flexing and relaxing your throat to match his movements, it became tolerable. You attempt to talk around him, and the fact that you could even still try to make out a word pissed him off. It didn’t help that the one word he did understand was “lightwork.”

The grip significantly tightened when he quickly sped up, snapping his hips to the point where his thighs were refuge for your hands because they didn’t hold any use anymore. He held you still with no way out. You were caged by his body, his feet planted and cock driving into your throat as a release of pure irritation. Every now and then he’d catch a drag of your teeth.

“I’m starting to think you like pissing me off to get what you want. You like it rough? Want me to fuck your throat till you can take it all?”

The pace was one you couldn’t keep up with. You’re not sure if you saw it as a challenge or something, but your panties were drenched from the leer he flaunted as he bruised your throat. But that is exactly what you wanted and in comparison to the embarrassment of saying it aloud, you’d rather just nod your head.

“Say it. Talk like you did just then.” A smile plasters on his face as he tells you what you just said you didn’t want to do. Like he could read your mind.

A muffled jumble of sounds come out as an attempt to answer him, and when you couldn’t, he laughed meanly at you. In a single stroke of his hips, he slows tremendously. The slightest movement of his cock heavy on your tongue led you to take this time to breathe through your nose while you still could.

“Talk.”

With a swallow to regain your voice, you pleaded, “Yes.” One brow of his cocks up, implying that wasn’t enough. “I like it rough,” your course voice finishes.

“Your first time and you want it rough?”

“Yes, choke me, do whatever.” You took deep breaths that brought chills to his wet tip, chills that traveled all the way up his bloodstream. Your hands crawled up from his thighs to lift his shirt in the front, showing his abdomen. Since you were unable to back up because of the door, you slid to the left, and licked the side of his dick, right along a vein that one of your wet hands never failed to miss. It came down to caress his dripping length while your puffy lips left kisses as high as his belly button.

“You wanna be my whore for the day?” His own hand came to replace yours, so you dropped this one to your side, the one holding the fabric up while he stopped for a moment to look at you. He knew the answer was yes.

Lipstick smudged your chin and tainted his dick. Your eyeliner still stood strong. He’d fix that.

The other hand of his previously dug in your hair now covered your fingers rubbing his hard cock, so you took them off and held both hands at your side. Suna saw one slip into your shorts from above.

His best friend’s sister was on her knees, rubbing her clit, awaiting his cock with a now open mouth. He chuckles to himself. That’s crazy.

He holds himself before slapping it on your tongue teasingly, then anywhere else on your face, effectively spreading wetness to your eyes and cheeks, leaving them glistening. It was all from your own mouth, so hopefully you wouldn’t mind. It didn’t seem to be a bother considering you hummed through the whole thing.

His head tips back once more when his hips curl into your throat again, with the ride being a lot easier this go around. You had learned to regulate your breaths so well with his slower pace (slower in comparison to the one before), so your eyes could remain open, glossed over from your throat being abused. Vibration from your moans ring through him again.

“Haaahfuck, extend your throat. Take a deep breath.”

His free hand held under your throat, the perfect way to feel the way he was marking you from the inside, and also the perfect way to feel whenever you followed his instructions. You had.

And it felt fucking heavenly. He felt the breath you inhaled, when your jaw dropped the slightest bit, and he heard the small gluck when the muscle in your throat relaxed. So when the barrier dissipated, it allowed him to reach places he couldn’t before. Deeper and deeper the walls rubbed against him in the warm cavern of your throat, so perfectly that a line of curses slips from him. He was moaning now, breaths stuttering and voice getting louder with each time he hit the back of your throat. Did you even have a gag reflex?

“There you go, mmh- good girl.”

The blue shirt refrained him from doing what he wanted, so he peels it over his head, stopping when it comes to a puddle around his neck and only one arm inside. Both hands come down to push falling strands of hair out of your way and tilt your head up to him as his pupils dilate at the sight of him disappearing into you.

Your black bra could be seen from your damp shirt being covered in spit dripping down your chin and falling from his thrusts. You fondle his balls as a finger dips into your wetness.

Once again, there was another moan—resulting in him speeding up. It was just as hard as the first time. It sent you back to the point you were in before as his cock breached your mouth, forcing your hands back to his thighs and your eyes to glaze over. You gagged but it made no difference to his pace, though it did release tears that carried black down your cheeks.

Suna could feel the pressure of your nails digging into him through his pants but he wouldn’t stop. He couldn’t stop. The noises that came from what he was just thinking about last night on your couch was too much to handle. And honestly, it felt like he was losing himself.

He retreated from your throat to allow you to breath the smallest amount before stuffing it back. By this point you felt if you wished to live, you should just retract your mind and relax up, letting him use you in whatever ways he wanted. Your eyelids fall closed, and they may have even rolled back.

“You better not,” the man above you grunts. They slowly re-open to him pulling out, then bending down at the waist. It hurts when he pulls you up by your hair with a single hand, showing off his strength, but when you’re at an acceptable height, he closes his other hand around your neck, turns his head, and closes the gap between you.

You moan into the unexpected kiss. Your mouth wasn’t the cleanest, yet he still sucks on your tongue as if it’s a lollipop. He kisses you like he’s done it a thousand times but explores like he hasn’t: he turns his head whenever yours does and tastes your strawberry lips. You whimper when he pulls away with even more of your breath.

“Open up, stick your tongue out,” he commands. His eyes hang lower than ever before. Anyway, you follow his orders, waiting patiently on your palms. A glob of saliva drips from his mouth, landing on the pink muscle. He hadn’t told you to swallow it, but instead, he actually pats his swollen, red tip right on the spot before sliding himself back in. It mixed with your own, not even authorizing you to taste it.

He fucks your throat with his hands stable on your forehead. Not running through your hair, but the fleshy part of his palms set on your eyebrows.

“You feel so fucking good...might start shutting you up like this more often.”

You don’t mind this proposal. It would’ve pissed you off, but you aren’t quite in the position to do anything about it, especially as his speed practically doubled. He pistons into your mouth.

His balls constantly slap on your chin. You feel the gag coming back, about to choke you, but he rotates to the back of your neck, tucking you in close so your nose was deep into dark brown hair. You still for a moment, your throat muscles moving along his cock. This is the time you take to observe him.

His face was completely flushed and his eyes were fuzzy. His mouth was held agape at the feeling, and his abs shudder each time you move. When you began to choke around him, he pulls off roughly, letting you sniffle and collect yourself. He does it again. It was clear the warmth near his stomach was bubbling up quick.

You cough this time on the exit, to where he tugs you immediately back down, but only on the tip. Taking down the three inches was a refresher. He turned you to the side, his tip making a bulge in the cheek that wasn’t closest to him. He slaps the spot as you’re held there. Not hard, but just enough to where he can do it a few times.

“You feel that?” He was fully breathless now, chest rising and falling with difficulty.

You nod. The slow blink that follows elucidates how fucked out you were.

“Now you can proudly tell your brother you’ve taken all of me down your throat. Can you do that?”

You respond, “Mhmm.” You aren’t completely sure to what, but you don’t care. He grins, then pulls out to grind slowly into your face.

“Shit, what a sight.”

Your cheeks are covered by his palms with his fingers stretched in different directions down your neck. Your eyes are puffed, low, and decorated with a mix of smudged makeup. Your tongue has been in one spot for the majority of the time you’ve spent together. Rin’s head involuntary tilts as if he was admiring a painting at an art gallery.

“Stop looking at me like you want me to take you right here, pretty.”

Purposely, whatever’s left of your eyelashes blink up at him like before and your eyebrows arch up the slightest bit. This combined with every gulp sound, evidence of him reaching the back of your throat each time, had his slick cock ready to fucking explode.

He kept his thrusts steady though, a slow, unchanging, grind. Before long, your breaths had steadied again and his forehead fell to the door. One particular thrust was extra slow. His fat tip yielded just at your entrance as if giving him time to catch his breath, so instead, you closed your lips around him, hollow your cheeks, and swirl your tongue just like when you first started. You only got to do this for about an utter five seconds before he was pulling out and quickly stroking above your face.

Still following orders, your tongue hung ready to catch whatever he had for you. Heavy breaths, curses, and moans carried him through his orgasm as lily-white spurts of warm cum land on different sections your face. You took it upon yourself to replace his hand with your own smaller ones, milking him of everything he had and more. You squeeze until it leaks out of his tip into your mouth.

Two long, ring adorned fingers dipped into your mouth, reaching the very back. He just giggled, to himself you assume. With his cock freshly out of your throat, you had gagged on them, to which he then shook them side to side, bringing your face along.

A fair amount coated you, a little even getting into your hair, and some dripping down the side of your eye. With a final lick and suck, you’ve successfully drained him. Your won’t dare try to speak, but after a second he hoists you up on your feet by your shoulders and gives you a peck. He’d eventually give you a paper towel from the dispenser as well, but for right now, he was busy sucking and biting onto your neck, efficaciously giving you a darkening hickey.

“Why would you do that?” You try to speak but nothing comes out, and the parts that were perceptible were extremely grainy. He’s learned to understand you.

“So your brother knows why your voice is gone.”

Rintarou now calls you his babysitter

©️ hxltic

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