#/me: -does not write anything for days/weeks-

[prettyboykatsuki]

give it to me like you need it, baby | zayne (lnds)

❅ tags ; afab + fem!reader (referred to with she/her several times), established relationship, vague depiction of medical injury, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, fingering, unprotected sex, reader is very spoiled skjdds, 18+

❅ wc ; 5.7k (???????????)

❅ a/n ; i started playing this game 48 hours ago. i am out of my mind. sorry. please no spoilers for now JKSDJD. also shoutout to @acerathia who imbued me with even more zayne brainworms that resulted in this KJDSKJ

this is just porn. no plot like fr at all!! dont think too hard about anything!!!! also sorry if the characterization is inconsistent </3

❅ synopsis ; refusing to take your prescribed pain meds, you suggest a different type of pain relief from zayne to heal your injuries.

“You should be more careful,” 

Zayne’s voice is even. It’s the first thing to greet you when you wake up from your most recent round of medication.  There’s a pleasant clarity that comes with every tone and intonation, that somehow manages to  trample the thick fog in your brain after waking up from your last round of narcotics. 

The pain has settled, from a sharp throb to a dull ache but it’s there. You glance around the room for some way to tell the time. There’s still light out but your limbs feel heavy, so you must’ve been asleep for a while. 

“It’s almost evening,” Zayne says, like he’s reading your mind. He sits at the stool at your side with an expression, eyes softened with worry. “An hour or so till sunset.” 

“Right,” You reply. You wince as you sit up, bruised sides still tender and head heavy. You rub your eyelids, a deep pressure in your skull—just behind them, as you readjust to the remnants of light in the room. “Shit, it hurts.” 

“It’s been enough time between doses, so you’ll need to take them again soon for the pain.” Zayne says. 

Your lips curl instantly, shaking your head. “No way. I don’t want to take them again.” 

Zayne stares at you for a while. “You wouldn’t have to take them at all  had you taken the necessary precautions in the first place so I fear there’s little choice in the matter. The pain will be hard to manage without the medications,” 

“Are you nagging me, Doctor?” 

He shakes his head. “I’m treating you. Your injury is substantial and I don’t want you to do anything to aggravate it. Nor do I want you to suffer needlessly” And then, a little softer. “I don’t like prescribing such a strong dosage either.”

“But you did.” 

“Because my patient is severely injury and I’m worried for her quality of life,” Zayne says, firm but not unkind. “Perhaps if said patient took more care to preserve themselves, I could prescribe something lighter.” 

“Are you holding a grudge against me?” 

“Against your recklessness, yes.” 

You pout unthinkingly. “I’m sorry. Don’t be angry.” 

Zayne reaches his hand towards the corner of your mouth, pressing his thumb into the line of your frown. “I never said I was angry. Just worried. Don’t trouble yourself.” 

“Then who should I trouble?”

Zayne doesn’t reply to you, though he does smile light enough for you to catch sight of it in the dim lights. He goes back into physician mode before you get a chance to say more, and you’re too tired to give him your usual banter.

There’s a beat of silence between you where Zayne is writing something down on pen and paper while you daydream aimlessly. He’s probably documenting your injuries for record keeping in the system. Encountering an anomaly in your line of work is deceptively common but there hadnt been any exact records on anything like your specific incident. Bits and pieces of stray information but that’s all. Nothing cohesive. While it appears to be normal albeit impressive bruising and broken bones, the unit still thought it best to be monitored. 

(That, along with Zaynes general tendency to fuss over your state, mean you’ve been in this position for a few weeks now. Zayne has taken one of his usual work days off just to tend to you.)

Despite the effort you've put into recovering, sustaining a massive injury has made you feel stir crazy and has not gotten rid of the pain entirely - causing you to wince when you move in the wrong way way.  Noticing the way you deflate, Zayne looks up from his papers. He pauses, studying you and the large bruise up your side. 

“Take your medicine”

“Don’t wanna,” You say petulantly, eyes closed. 

Zayne pauses then sighs as you stubbornly turn him away. He weighs his options before  moving on to focus on your injury. You’re conscious of the hand he has underneath your shirt. How delicately he moves, scarred digits touching like you’re porcelain. You don’t think he does it on purpose, or because he underestimates you. Rather, treating you preciously is the easiest manner of being for him. Still, it does make you pout.

“That’s a nasty bruise even for your line of work. Don't be stubborn.” 

You shake your head. 

 “I’m tough. I can take some pain. It’s better than being groggy at least. Feels like my heads been full of cotton for weeks.” 

“You say that because the medication is working. It’s dulling the pain enough for it to be tolerable even though it can feel unpleasant at times. It’s going to worsen again, gradually, if you don’t keep on the dosage schedule.” 

You open your eyes again to look at him. It’s hard to refute his points, even more so when he makes it so obvious his concerns lie solely in your well-being. But you really, really hate the way it’s making you feel. You feel like you’ve been hit by a crr in general but the added sluggishness from narcotics is too much. Enough to be stubborn and childish about even the most sound advice. You shake your head again, trying to think of a solution to appease you both. 

It doesn’t last long since you quickly get lost in another train of thought as a result of your brain fog. 

When your mind catches up with reality,  your eyes flutter open to a worried looking Zayne. Half-conscious, you feel keenly aware of his presence. Of his hands resting on your sides and the heat that lingers when he moves them. His hands are covered in tens of small scars, fingers thick and long while managing to be elegant. A precision to him. To his features, to his movements, to his actions. 

“Something on your mind?” 

“Hm…?” 

His lips quirk. “You’ve got a look about you,” 

“I was just thinking of alternatives on how to manage pain.” 

“Another medication you mean?” 

You shake your head, smiling crookedly. 

“There are different kinds of pain relief, right? Something more… holistic.” 

“Holisitic?” 

Opting to answer his question another way, you let out an exaggerated noise of relief. “Your hand feels nice doc,” 

Zayne, quick on the uptake, hums to himself not showing any reaction.

“Does holistic feel like the appropriate vocabulary for what you’re implying?” 

“Maybe… something more physical.” 

“I see.” He hums. “And how would something that puts strain on your body improve your injury?” 

“Improving my mood is also an important part of recovery.” 

Zayne sighs. “Please be more mindful about my position as your doctor.” 

“You sound like you’re considering it when you don’t reject me outright.”

“Tsk.”  

He sits up from the stool he’d been sat on while tending to you, instead choosing to sit beside you in bed. You’re propped up in a mess of pillows and blankets, pressed close to the wall. There’s more than enough room for Zayne. The bed creaks under his weight as he stretches his legs, back against the headboard. You turn your head to look at him. 

A long silence falls between you, not uncomfortable. Heavy rather, with tension. Zayne, quick to indulge you, brings a hand up to cradle your face. His hand is cool against your hot skin, big palms cupping your cheek. He hums under his breath, hazel-green eyes tracing the outlines of your features. You keen into his palms and he laughs again, deeper. Richer. 

“I’m not against the suggested methods perse,” Zayne says slowly, holding your gaze while his thumb traces your lip. “Only that it may encourage your recklessness, should I give it to you. You’ve been cooped up in here for so long, I suppose needed some more stimulus isn’t far fetched.” 

“I’ll be more mindful.”  You promise, giving him the wettest puppy eyes you can while you nod enthusiastically. 

“I won’t forgive you otherwise.” 

He leans in. Just enough to tease. You frown. 

“Zayne,” 

His eyes meet your again, heating shooting through your spine. 

“Impatient, foolish, reckless. What should I do with a patient like you?” 

“Spoil me.” You reply shamelessly. His lips quirk up. “I take well to bribery.” 

“Is that really the most effective method?” Zayne pretends to ponder.

You nod. “Promise I’ll be on my best behavior, Doctor.” 

“I’ll hold you to it.” Zayne says, tone soft with affection. He holds a hand out for you. “ Come.”

Zayne tells you to move, but bears no intention of making you do so on your own. He wraps an arm around your back carefully - mindful of the tenderness in your ribs and side. He draws you into his lap with ease, your head tucked against his chest with his chin resting atop of your head. Your legs are drawn across his lap lazily, voice reverberating through your tired limbs as he speaks. 

“Comfortable? No pain?” 

You make an affirmative noise to him, cozying up in the way least straining to your body. 

He’s patient as he undresses you from the waist down - and you allow him, basking in the silent attention. In tattered sleepwear and half-sick, you barely move as the fabric rolls and peels all the to your knees - lazily lifting your legs to take them off along with your underwear in one swift go. A wave of embarrassment tugs at you, self-conscious as you nuzzle further into Zayne’s arms. Paradoxically finding comfort in the same person whose making your feverishness burn brighter, you let your hand clench weekly in his shirt. 

Naked, Zayne brings the hand not supporting your back up to your face. He holds your chin between thumb and forefinger and tilts your head towards him - a chaste kiss promising more. Your eyes lock for a heartbeat until you look away, shy. He lets you lean back further, lazier - until he’s at the right angle to hover over you to kiss you all the better. 

Contrary to the other ways he touches you, most times Zayne kisses you is fierce. Once, twice - to ease you into the pace of his mouth before you find your lips pulled open. It’s the only thing that he does this way, needy from the start. Your lips press to his sweetly, a noise of surprise slipping  that Zayne swallows in the next go. His lips are soft and pleasantly cool to the touch. 

Your hands grip tighter trying to find purchase in the overwhelming want of it. Slow and sticky kisses that make the back of your feel fuzzy, the kind that lingers in the minutes you’re parted. His breath is warm, faint with the smell of mint. 

The coy, cool demeanor you took suggesting this, fades—melts every inch of you. Your body goes slack with arousal underneath the assault, his tongue slipping against yours deeper and deeper. He gets breathy when he kisses, a longing sigh as you keen up into his mouth or suck his tongue - your body eager to be as wrapped up in the attention as you can. 

There’s something about this in particular that makes you feel pampered. Tucked away, safely. Zayne is familiar with the act of bending to your whims and your affirmed relationship has only made him more easily compelled. 

His free hand rests just above where your body longs to be touched. Deliberately above the navel, he slides over the softness of your belly. Traveling up slowly, his hand squeezes both sides of your chest. You can’t get enough air to say anything about how good it feels, so you whine instead - canting your hips to air for friction. Zayne laughs softly against your mouth. 

Less turned on, you think you would bicker with him about it. Turn your nose up at him for being so rude. Melted in his arms like lust liquified, you don’t know if you gave it in you. 

Deft fingers tweak your nipples underneath the thin fabric of your shirt. Zayne notices it for the first time touching you. He makes a face, faux disapproval causing his lip to curl.

“Wearing clothes like this with everything so visible. On top of your injury, you’ll get sick.” 

The words carry no weight or bite, playful at best. As if to prove a point, Zayne goes back over your clothes to touch them again. His thumb rubs across your hard nipples, your body shuddering from the rough texture at the fabric alongside Zayne’s fingers. He rubs them carefully, slowly. Pays attention to each one before settling on teasing the side more sensitive to the other. He knows the way to touch you, please  you down to the minutia. It makes you so wet you can hardly stand it. You squeeze your legs together with a frown. 

“I said spoil me. This is torture.” 

Your words are petulant even to your own ears. Zayne barely bites back a smile. 

“I wonder if your words about torture will hold up against your body if I touch you,” He kisses your temple to placate you, a hand at your waist to prove his point. “Patience,” 

“I can’t be patient,” You say, frowning. Zayne gives you an imperceptible look before leaning down, his voice close to your ear. 

“Should I help you then? Tell you how good it’ll feel if you sit through it obediently and allow me to have my way with you, hm? You like the sound of my voice right,” 

You let out a mewl. Zayne laughs. 

“Sit then, and wait for me to take care of you.” Zayne says gently. He kisses the corner of your mouth, trailing his kisses down to your jaw and neck. Bites so softly at the junction of your neck and shoulders, his voice a salve to your pent up lust. “Let me soothe the pain with pleasure.” 

You can’t be sure if it’s mercy or not, that your demands make Zayne more relentless in his fondling of your body. His hand doesn’t go further than your waistband. But they squeeze and grope all where he can reach. Cycling through hot, deep kisses that leave you breathless - toes curling up in fluffy socks unconsciously aching for more—and sweet, loving pecks to encourage you to put up with it a little longer. 

What keeps you tethered is the promise of pleasure, the assurance that Zayne always gives you what you ask for no matter how long or how much he may tease you until he does. It’ll be yours since you wanted it. 

You’ll manage to cum when he feels like it’s right. So you play into it. Beg sweetly in between sighs to touch you. Need you, need your hands, wanna feel even better. 

You like feeling Zayne get impatient, no matter how gradual or how slow. It never loses the thrill. The subtle gestures that his control is slipping away for you so slowly. Always worth the full brunt of your effort when you see his resolve slowly unravel - becoming sloppier in short doses. Sometimes, you get lucky enough to push him far enough and let go completely. 

“Spread your legs,” Zayne pants, desperate to get his hands on you. You do instinctually, gasping as soon as your swollen, throbbing clit brushes so lightly against his middle finger. His fingers are longer than yours - bigger and thicker. He rubs against your slit gently, feeling for how wet you are. It makes a noise as he slides through your folds, fingertip resting at your clit as he gives it a soft stroke. 

“Zayne,” You gasp his name. “Please,” 

No words follow your demand, but Zayne always makes good on his promises. Before you can think to whine again, he finds the spot that brings you pleasure the quickest and rubs soft circles into it. Steady pace paired with a complete understanding of the ins and outs of your body. Your pussy flutters in reply, whole body jolting from the contact. Pleasure seeps into you like the running flow of water, subtle but steady - the heat of your body melting the preciseness of Zayne’s ice. You feel a brief pain in your ribs, but its overwhelmed by the pleasure fizzling through you as Zayne rubs your clit in circular strokes. 

You rut against his hand, aching for more but Zayne keeps pace. 

You wonder how something can feel so different at the hands of someone else. How something you usually do alone and feel alright pleasure from can make you feel like this - like you’re burning from the inside when all he’s using is his hands. 

Zayne, sensing the buildup before you do, presses your mouths together again. He’s gentle this time but you’re desperate, a hand holding onto his face while you get nearer and nearer to cumming.

You know you’re on the edge when your muscles begin to tighten, mind rousing to the rush of dopamine and oxytocin. You pant his name sloppy as your mouth tests the syllables. Over and over and over as Zayne brings you to the peak. He’s quiet, laser focused on where his finger play with your needy pussy. Everything inside of you goes taut before you begin to unravel. Deep waves of rapture wash over you, from head to toe. Your cum spills, flows in thick sticky strands until you’re so wet you can feel it between your thighs and ass.

You take a shuddering breath upon your first release, trying to settle your mind through the aftershocks of powerful orgasm

You barely get a chance to breathe before you feel Zayne’s hand on your waist again. 

“You’ve a few more for me, right?” Zayne says, voice latent with unprecedented lust. You feel something hard pressing against your thighs, making you squirm. “Only once won’t be an effective treatment for a patient in so much pain.” 

You don’t get a chance to recover  your strength before you feel Zayne’s hands come down between your legs. Despite your efforts to run from it, Zayne holds you firm with his arm. Holds you in a way that won’t let you escape from it no matter how much you may try. B

efore you can finish riding your first high - the pads of his fingers find your clit once more. He goes to touch you indirectly, aware of your sensitivity and only heeding so much caution

The lack of direct friction is frustrating. Like he’s deliberately avoiding touching you where exactly you need while still making you feel good, a forceful staccato to an orgasm rather than a direct line to one. It feels good, it does— but it’s not enough. 

It makes you want more. With Zayne, you can’t be sure if its intentional or not. 

Your mind is too cloudy to speak to him, so you whine instead. Zayne has a talent for making you like that. Touching you in a way that renders your speech useless, forces you to lean on what you know. Leaves you nothing to ask him with except your body, your carnality, to get what you want. Everything you could possibly desire is yours if you shed your pride and ask. If you can’t ask, all you need to do is what you’re doing now—spread your legs and let him see just how much of a mess he makes you.  Zayne makes it easy for you. Fucks you in vulnerable, precise measures. He moves with the confidence necessary to wield a scalpel, uses it to take you apart perfectly before mending you to put together. 

No one knows how to build you up again how Zayne does. Who else is paying such close attention?

Your voice comes out shaking when you come around your second consecutive orgasm. The previous grogginess has been completely washed away, taken over by a stronger feeling of euphoria. Cumming again in such rapid succession blindsides you. Your mouth is fallen open. Silent, broken moans sound as the sensations starts to stir again in your core. Your belly is honeyed with lust - the muscles in your calves tensing hard as you thrash your legs around aiming not to lose your mind to the pleasure. Zayne is the only force keeping you upright in his arms and on his lap.

He tsks, half between sympathetic and teasing as you squeeze you thighs around his hand. “Stop squirming. You’ll hurt yourself. If your treatment proves to worsen your injuries and then we’ll have to stop—effective immediately.” 

Your voice comes out so unfamiliar and desperate, you barely know it as yours. “No, no, no don’t stop please, Zayne—”

“Then,” His voice is raspy against your ear, deeperer. Stained with lust. “Hold still and cum.” 

You force your body as still as possible at Zayne’s word. Your hands grip tight onto his shirt, stretching the material out with how hard you grip. You cry out as the knot inside of you untangles and frays.

 Zayne kisses you right as you get to the edge, forcing his tongue deep in your mouth to keep you from biting through your lip. You cum as soon as you feel your tongues touch, kissing deeply. 

You curl up this time in reaction to the gratification, your whole body folding in on itself. You can feel your pussy clench around nothing as you do, aching for something more. Like electricity sparking through the water, your pleasure is constant yet splintering. 

Pin-point accuracy leaves your mind completely muddled in the aftermath. When you manage to look up at Zayne, desire mixed with longing and affection puff up in your chest. It’s the way he looks down at you in the afterglow. Such sharp, intense eyes and strong features. Almost shattered, ruined with a restrained lust. Despite himself, despite being at his mercy, despite being weakened from healing wounds - Zayne holds you gentle. Puts you first even at odds with himself. 

You crane your neck up half tired to kiss him first. It’s nauseatingly gentle but doesn’t do enough to express your feelings. A mix of gratitude and compliance founded in mutual trust. You want to give yourself to him over and over and over - enough to wash away his worries. At the same time, you want him to want you so madly he abandons his usual restraint. 

Ultimately, your mind settles on the desire to make him feel good in whatever way you possibly can. You rub deliberately against the hard-on pressed against your thigh. Mellowed from cumming twice, you speak your thoughts frankly. 

“Fuck me.” 

He shakes his head. “You’ll really aggravate your injuries that way. I’d …. like too but I—” 

“Zayne,” You repeat, serious. “Fuck me, please.” 

He’s silent for a moment, eyes closed. 

“Want you to make me cum again,” You say, then add. “Wanna cum while you’re inside of me.” 

“You—” He takes in a sharp breath. “You can really be so—” 

“Zayne,” 

“Don’t call my name like that,” Zayne says on a sigh, rubbing your lower lip. “I’ve already conceded. Quit your pouting.” 

You smile at him, eyes wet with sincere joy. He lets out a strangled groan, followed by a sigh. “Given your injuries, you being on top would be best as to not cause anymore pain to you. Move gently.” 

“Will you help?” 

Zayne nods at you. “You don’t have to ask.” 

As promised, his touch is gentle as he takes you off his lap. His hands and arms give the necessary support to keep from further agitating your wounds- supporting your spine to ease yourself onto his strong lap with. It’s a wide fit to get your thighs over his lap but Zayne takes precaution.

Zayne pushes you to stand on your knees while you straddle him. He makes you lean on one side of him, your torso resting on one of his shoulders while you’re pressed slightly against the headboard. Uncertain of what he’s doing, you yelp in surprise when you feel his hands slide between your legs. One on your hips, securing you - the other one teasing your slit. 

“It’ll hurt if I put it in right away.” He clarifies. 

“I can take it.”

Zayne is quiet at that, choosing to ignore both your whining and the soft sway of your hips in a poor attempt to get him to fuck you quicker. Meticulously, Zayne slips his fingers into his mouth covering them with saliva first, before drawing them through the mess of slick between your thighs. Making his digits as wet as possible, he rubs your pussy until he finds your tight hole. You can feel your cunt pulse at the contact, taking in a soft breath as he eases the first finger inside of you. They’re thick. Thicker than yours by enough that you can feel some resistance as he works just his middle finger into you slowly. Patiently fucking it in and out until he’s all the way down to knuckle. 

When it’s easy to fuck you on one, he adds another - repeating the process until both fingers fit inside of you easily. The stretch leaves your breath hitching, thighs trembling slightly in anticipation. 

“One more should be—” 

“No,” You say immediately. “It’s enough already.” 

“You know very well it’s not.” 

“I can take it,” You coax, sitting back down properly onto Zayne’s lap, half naked. You rub yourself over the strained fabric of his sweats, wetting them with your own arousal. You’re pleased when you notice his own pre-cum staining them too. “Zayne.” 

Rubbing his temple, he holds you by your hips. You wrap your arms haphazardly around his neck as he casts his eyes towards you. Holding his gaze, you frown—face flush and lips pouty. He sighs, a noise of discontent slipping as his hands reach back and squeeze your ass - drawing you even closer to him. He closes his eyes, forehead resting on your shoulder. 

“What good is it taking such good care of your body as your physician when you’re so quick to throw it away in front of me, hm?” Zayne scolds half-heartedtly. You smile at him sheepishly, your eyes meeting. 

 He gives you a look, silent, encouraging you to take what you need first. 

Your hands are shaky as they reach the front of Zayne’s waistband, tugging until they slide down his thighs - along with his boxers in one smooth motion. Your thighs pressed together at the now familiar sight of his cock. Your thighs weaken at the sight of it, impressive length and girth - curved just right and too heavy to stand on its own. You reach out to touch it, a soft stroke to feel how hard it gets. It makes you gasp, feeling how it throbs between your fingers. Zayne suppresses a groan as your palm smooths over the tip. 

“Have you changed your mind?” 

You shake your head rapidly. Zayne lets out a breathless sigh against your collar bone. 

“Stubborn thing you are.” 

“Zayne,”  You peek at him through your lashes. “Can I?” 

He holds you close to him, careful not to grip you too hard. “Slowly.” 

You nod your head, pulling yourself forward on his lap to line the tip of his cock with your entrance. 

A long, shaky breath leaves your lips as you feel the tip of his cock slip against your folds. Adjusting to be sitting up a little more, you ease yourself down on Zayne’s hard length. You feel your pussy flutter in anticipation of being full. Placing our hands on Zayne’s shoulders, you ever so slowly slide yourself down on his cock. 

You both take a sharp inhale as the head of Zayne’s cock stretches your cunt open wide. Just the head is overwhelming, your thighs trembling as you do your best to take all of him inside of you. Your voice tremble, working yourself down inch by inch - desperately trying to adjust. His cock is big, too big - always more than you remember it being. You feel it up to your throat. 

So focused on taking it, you nearly miss the sounds leaving Zayne’s mouth each time you manage to take a little more of him. His voice is trembling, hot against your skin as he muffles each groan and sigh into your shoulder. His hands are tight with restraint as he holds you, trying his best to hold himself together. 

It takes you a beat or two. Long, restrained moments of silence before your body finally takes it. You moan as you bottom out, cock stretching your needy pussy out completely. You stay like that for even longer, longer than you would normally. 

“Aren’t going to move?” 

You give Zayne a look. “I don’t know if it’s possible.” 

“Spoiled girl.” Zayne tsks. 

Wordlessly, he uses his strength to slide you off of his cock in one go. Whining at the sudden feeling of loss - he fucks you back onto him. Carefully placing his hands on the most unmarred parts of your hips, Zayne fucks you on his cock with the same ease of a toy. 

After a few thrusts, your body adjusts to the feeling. You can feel the specific motion when it goes from a dull ache to a dull feeling of pleasure. Your waist goes completely weak in Zayne’s grasp as he fucks his cock up into you with controlled movements. Undulating just enough to make you gasp. Practiced with the full weight and gravity of his hips - but painstakingly measured so that it doesn’t hurt. It’s not slow, or fast - but a rhythmic inbetween that makes it hard for your mind to keep up.

If there was such a thing as getting fucked perfectly, you think Zayne is fulfilling it by all measures. 

The way he’s fucking the warm, slick heat of your cunt feels good beyond word. It’s relentlessly consistent,  head sliding against your sweet spot with ease. Precision guides his thrusts like it does everything else. Euphoria suffuses through your limbs as you get yourself fucked open on it.

The sound of his echoes in the room as Zayne keeps pace. You’re moaning loud now, shameless as the sensation builds and builds and builds but never quite hits its peak. You feel so full, but you need something else to get yo over the edge. 

“You want to cum like this, didn’t you?” Zayne says, matter-of-fact despite the level of calm in his voice.  His face betrays the composure in his voice. “Touch yourself. Make yourself cum in front of me.” 

Shakily, your hand finds itself between your bodies.You find your swollen clit for the last time and carefully rub between your fingers. It makes you gasp outright, nearly falling forward from the impact. Pleasure no longer plateauing, something bounds again inside of you. 

You can feel it coming this time. On the edge from the minute Zayne started fucking you to now, your body has been winding itself tighter and tighter until a knot formed right in the swell of your belly again. There’s something about this one that feels so much deeper then when you came before, something more overwhelming to it. He fucks you in places you could never reach, makes you cum like that too. 

You throw your head back noisily when you finally match your fingers to Zayne’s throat. 

“Fuck,” You hiss, trying your best not to lose the feeling. “Zayne, g-gonna—” 

Zaynes voice borders on a growl. “Cum for me.” 

One last time, your body finds release as Zayne holds you down on his cock and grinds into your g-spot while you cum again. Your nails dig into Zayne’s shoulders, holding onto him for life as your body wracks with shivers once more. Your last orgasm is the most overwhelming, the aftershocks feel like they last for minutes at a time instead of a seconds. 

Zayne cums quickly after you, panting into your neck like he’d been waiting the entire time for you�� to cum first before finishing. You feel content as his seed spills into your pussy for the last time. 

A beat of silence passes between you before you speak again, 

“Thank you for the medicine doc,” You hum. “I feel all better.” 

Zayne simply goes along with you like alwys. “It’s what I’m here for.” 

__

After getting fucked good enough to knock out only a few moments after you came a third time, you aren’t exactly sure where or how you were going to wake up. 

When you do wake up though, your bruised and battered body - while still in dull pain, is being cradled by someone else. You feel clean too. Your clothes are changed and your skin is cool to the touch like someone’s been wiping you down and keeping an eye on you. 

Yawning, you open your eyes to the familiar sight of your partner. Zayne glances down at you without word. You feel his arm around your waist like a secure weight, tucking yourself into him.

Zayne’s first question is predictable. “How are you feeling, love?” 

Your heart flutters clumsily at the overt tenderness. “...Hurts a lot. It’s bearable though.” 

Zayne laughs as he notices your attitude. “What happened the my bold lover from a few hours ago? So bold she invited me to bed without hesitation?” 

Your face feels hot, warmth tingling from your ears down to your neck. “I was doped on a lot of narcotics so somehow… and sex is different from this you know?” 

“This…?” 

“Acting like a proper boyfriend when you’re always so…” You trail off. “Don’t you think that’s unfair?” 

“Are you saying I’m usually an improper boyfriend?” 

“Yes,” You say flatly, though you dont really mean it. Zayne chuckles. “At least you’re less…” 

“Kind? Honest?” 

“Playful,” You reply. Shy, you bury your face in his shirt. “You’re not honest but you’re always kind. You’re in too good of a mood.” 

“Will you be more comfortable if I act as usual?” 

You wrap your arms around his torso, hugging him gently. “This side of you isn’t so bad either.” 

“I’m spoiling my very unruly patient.” He hums. He leans down, a hand cradling the back of your head as he presses a kiss to your forehead. “So listen well to doctors orders and rest a bit longer. We’ll have dinner together in a bit so just rest.” 

As if caught by a spell, the mention of rest against has your eyes feeling heavy. You nod without thinking about it. 

“Hm… ‘kay,” You mumble. “Thank you… for taking care of me….” 

Zayne waits a beat or two before pressing another kiss to your temple, waiting for your breathing to even before he speaks. 

“As if it’s something to thank me for,” 

[hemlockesprings]

update: this is how ur recommendations got me LOL

listened to enknee1 and gimme all ur luv and i LOVED THEM BOTH AAUAHJGHHG ur music can be so ethereal its so cool. thank u for the recommendations!!!!!!!!!!! and the reminder to listen to them HAHA

THIS IS UR EXTRA REMINDER TO KEEP LISTENING LOL! 👂

but also, LOVED doing those songs!

....eh well....in the moment.......😅

gimme all ur luv I wrote after a 6 month period of not writing anything and I literally locked myself in the bathroom and forced myself to come up with song ideas while shittin on the toilet 😭

and then enknee1 I made during a week where I stopped talking to people and I was in the corner of my room eating oatmeal cause I was so overwhelmed....

I feel like you can hear those vibes in each respective songs. Like now that I think about, enknee1 does sound like a song where I had locked myself in my room in the dark and ate oatmeal for days 😅

FUN TIMES!!

(but no really in hindsight wouldn't have it any other way tbh)

-🔒😋

[dear-aubade]

Oh my good God your writing is absolutely fabulousssss 🤤 The way you write about Joel and his baby girl is sending me into orbit!!! Genuinely I cannot wait to read more of your work 😍 Do you think that you would ever do one where Joel comforts his baby if she got jealous? There’s a few different ways this could go but the idea of him comforting his sweet girl when she’s upset over something like seeing another woman in Jackson hit on him or something makes me think terrible, nsfw thoughts 😆🩷🎀

This was so fun to write, thank you for the ask anon! Hope you enjoy!

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader

Summary: When you see a woman making a move on Joel and storm out in a flurry of tears, Joel realizes exactly how much he’s been neglecting his baby. He’s determined to make it up to you.

Notes: Smut, oral (f receiving), dom!joel, sub!reader, praise, nicknames (sweetheart, baby, babygirl, little girl, honey, darling, any fanfic-typical nickname Joel has for reader), jealous!reader, oblivious!joel (sorta), semi-public, implied age gap

You were fuming.

It was Tommy’s birthday and Maria had decided to invite the entire town of Jackson to the Tipsy Bison that night to celebrate. The bar was lively with the hum of chatter and small talk, the smell of whiskey and beer curling in the air, paper lanterns hung in a zig-zag pattern across the ceiling.

Normally you would have loved to go out like this. It gave you an excuse to dress up all pretty and do your makeup, maybe even get Joel to abandon his stone-faced stoic facade and go dancing with you after he’d had a couple drinks.

Except for the fact that the night had gotten off to a horrible start.

The past few weeks Joel had been busy. Very busy. Which you didn’t blame him for, of course—he was one of the town’s strongest working men and the people needed him to help with patrol. But recently a worker at the Bison had sprained his ankle and Seth had asked Joel to help cover him while he healed, which meant that now Joel was gone during the day for patrol and several nights during the week while he fixed barstools or whatever it was Seth had him working on.

The nights he actually was home, he usually went straight to bed with you after placing a kiss to your lips and gave a murmured, “Goodnight.” You couldn’t even remember the last time he’d touched you, really touched you.

And you knew that Joel was a good man, that the reason he was so exhausted all the time now was because he was doing work for the community.

It didn’t stop his girl from getting a little needy and missing him.

Tonight you had taken advantage of the outing. You’d made sure to do your makeup immaculately, with your lips glossed and eyes lined to make them look all doe-like and pretty, how Joel liked them. You’d curled your hair and pinned the top part of it back in a half-updo with a white satin bow. You’d even worn a new dress that you’d traded for a couple days before. It was baby pink, hugging your bust and waist before flaring out the smallest bit around your hips. The short hem paired with your white heels showed off your legs very nicely.

You’d thought that maybe if you put enough effort into your appearance tonight, Joel would want to touch you no matter how tired he was.

Unfortunately, so much self-grooming had caused you and Joel to be a little late, which meant rushing out the door and speed-walking over to the Bison so you two weren’t more tardy than you already were, which meant there wasn’t time for Joel to appreciate his princess in her pretty dress.

Now that you guys were here at the bar, he was hardly looking at you. His large hand was still holding yours so you wouldn’t get lost in the crowd, but he hadn’t even said anything about how you looked tonight. Did he even care? It made you want to whine and cry or stamp your little heeled foot against the floor until he paid attention to you.

But you didn’t. You wanted to be his good girl…and you didn’t want to ruin Tommy’s birthday, either, by making a scene.

Joel kept craning his neck around to look for his brother, and when he found Tommy and Maria standing at the bar, he guided you over with him with a hand on the small of your back.

“Joel!” Tommy exclaimed, expression bright as he embraced his brother—overly bright. It was clear he’d already had a few glasses.

Joel slapped Tommy on the back. “Happy Birthday.”

“Happy Birthday, Tommy,” you said softly right as Maria was thanking the both of you for coming.

“What did you get me?” Tommy asked his brother.

Joel grunted as he put his hand back on your waist. “Right to the point, aren’t you?”

“A book? A shirt? A razor? I’ve been needin’ a new one of those, mine broke just yesterday—“

“Boots,” Joel said. “Traded for ‘em last week. They’re back at the house.”

Tommy grinned. “Awe, now you’ve just ruined the surprise.”

Joel rolled his eyes. “Tommy—“

“Oh, that reminds me! There’s somethin’ I need to show you real quick.” Tommy turned to you. “Mind if I borrow him for a few?”

You frowned. “Well—“

Without waiting for a response Tommy dragged Joel away, heading for some unseen destination across the bar. You couldn’t tell where they were going from your position in the crowd. You tried not to wilt.

A moment later Maria handed you a drink. “You look nice,” she commented.

“At least someone noticed,” you grumbled, taking a sip. The alcohol burned your throat.

“Joel giving you trouble?”

You shrugged.

Maria waited for you to elaborate. When you didn’t, she pressed. “I was going to go sit with some friends over there.” She gestured to her right somewhere. “Want to join?”

You sighed, then shook your head. “I don’t think so. Thank you Maria, but I don’t want my mood to infect your guys’.”

“Well…alright. If you’re sure.” And with that, she left you to your own devices.

It had been hours. Or…maybe a half hour. Forty five minutes? You weren’t sure. Enough time for you to have made a home for yourself on one of the barstools with several now-empty liquor glasses in front of you.

And Joel still wasn’t back.

Your toes were starting to go numb in your tight shoes even just sitting there, so you huffed and got to your feet—you only swayed a little. You were determined to find Joel and make him dance with you.

You weaved in and out of the crowd as you searched. Where had Tommy taken Joel? Was it….this way? That way? You couldn’t think very clearly right now. How many glasses had you….?

You finally spotted the back of Joel’s head through the throng of partygoers. Your eyes lit up and you started to move in that direction, ready to tug on Joel’s hand and stand on your tiptoes for a kiss. Why had you even been upset again?

You squirmed between two people to move closer and—

There was a woman beside Joel. She had honey brown hair and keen, wise eyes. She was older than you—much older. Closer to Joel’s age. Her name was Sharon…Shannon…something?

You froze as she laughed at something someone said and put a hand on Joel’s arm.

Your eyes went wide and you didn’t know whether you wanted to scream or start crying. Joel suddenly turned his head and met your gaze.

Your body decided for you. Tears pooled on your lashes and you turned to duck out of the bar before you made even more of a fool of yourself.

The crisp, cool night air greeted you as you escaped the Tipsy Bison’s warmth. You sniffled and kept walking, not even really sure where you were going.

“Darlin’?” Joel’s voice reached you and you heard footsteps from behind.

You sped up.

But Joel was Joel, and so he quickly caught up to you with his long legs. “Baby, what’s wrong?”

“Not now, Joel.”

“Hey.” He grabbed you and turned you around, his grip gentle but firm. “Sweetheart, what happened?”

“Get offa me,” you protested, trying to push away.

“What’re you…” He paused. “Are you drunk?”

“No,” you whined. You broke out of his grip and kept walking, turning around the corner of the Bison and walking around the back of the building. “Leave me alone.”

“Baby.”

At his tone you stopped. Even though you were embarrassed and upset and didn’t want to see his face, a small part of you still wanted to be obedient.

He came around your front and lifted your chin so you were looking up at him. His stern gaze melted away and his eyes softened. “Honey, what’s wrong?”

Your bottom lip quivered. “What’s wrong?” You sniffled and took a step back. His hand fell away.

“What’s wrong is that you don’t pay attention to me anymore. You work all day and all night and it feels like you hardly have time for me now. I even got all dressed up tonight for you, wore a new dress and everything, a-and you didn’t say anything, didn’t even look—“

You blinked and more tears ran down your face. “And now I jus’ saw Sharon or Shannon or whoever that woman was flirting with you, and you didn’t do anything—”

You cut off as your face crumpled. You looked down, shivering from the cold.

“I know she’s older and…and probably smarter, and she—”

“Whoa, whoa, sweetheart.” Joel tenderly gripped your upper arms, ducking his head to try and get you to meet your gaze. “What…what are you thinkin’? You think she could ever compare to my babygirl?”

You opened your mouth to respond but he prattled on before you had the chance. “The moment she touched me I pulled away. I don’t know if you didn’t see or what, but…” He shook his head. “Baby, I only have eyes for you. You know that.”

He wiped your tears with his thumbs. “I’m sorry I haven’t been around more often. It’s just until Seth’s friend heals up that I’ll be gone. I should be out of bar duty by next week.”

“And what about tonight?” you whined.

At that, Joel smiled. “You really think I didn’t notice how pretty you looked, sweet girl? I was trying not to get a hard on in the middle of Tommy’s party.”

You almost smiled. Almost. But you were still mad about Shannon, and you still felt needy and lonely and you were pretty sure you were way more than tipsy and you still kind of felt like punching Joel in his handsome face a little bit.

He leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “So sorry that I made my baby feel alone….and needy…and neglected…” He punctuated each word with a kiss to a different part of your face—your cheek, your nose, your lips.

Now that you were alone, Joel’s eyes roved over your body shamelessly. “Look at you….” he cooed. “So beautiful.” His hands fell to your waist. “And this pretty new dress.” His eyes looked lower, down to your feet, and he grinned. “Your shoes match your bow. You said you dressed up just for me?”

You sniffed and nodded. “M’still a little mad at you.”

“I know, pretty girl.” He kissed your jaw. “Why don’t you let me make it up to you?”

That sobered you up real quick. “Wh….here?”

“Why not?” Joel pressed your back to the wall of the building. “No one’s around.”

“But someone could—”

“Shhh.” He kissed lower this time, at the skin beneath your jaw. “Here’s what’s going to happen.” He pressed a kiss lower. “I’m going to make my little girl feel good right here and now so she doesn’t have to wait another minute.” Another kiss. “After that I’m gonna carry her back to our bed….” Another. “And there I’m gonna make love to her until she gets absolutely sick of it.”

You squirmed as his beard dragged along your skin the lower and lower he kissed, lips now at your collarbone. “I-I don’t know if I’d ever get sick of it….”

He nipped at your skin and you gasped. “Then you had better have enough energy to be up all night, sweetheart.”

Joel kissed down the center of your clavicle, the middle of your breasts, down your tummy over your dress….soon he was kneeling before you, looking up to meet your gaze with those dark brown eyes of his.

“Joel—” you said, still a bit uncertain.

“Lean back against the wall, babygirl.”

You hesitated, but obeyed. Any complaints or protests you had against the situation dissolved as soon as Joel lifted one of your legs and pressed a kiss to the inside of your ankle.

His lips traveled upward. He kissed along your calf….the inside of your knee…your thigh….soon he pressed the skirt of your dress up to your waist.

He paused.

Then:

“Oh, sweetheart.” It was nearly a groan. His eyes flicked up to yours. “No panties?”

You smiled shyly. The truth was you’d forgotten almost entirely about that—it had been a quick last minute decision to forego wearing anything beneath your dress, but seeing his eyes dark with lust now….you definitely did not regret it.

“I’m a little glad I didn’t have time to look you over properly before coming here,” he murmured, lips skimming your hip bone. “If I knew you weren’t wearin’ anything under this we would have never left the house.”

You could feel his breath on your inner thigh now as he moved his head and you whimpered. “Joel.”

“Shhh, no whining honey, ‘less it’s about how good it feels.” He placed a kiss right above the patch of skin above your bud. “Just let that pretty head of yours empty—I’ll take care of you.”

Whatever you were about to say in response left your head as Joel hiked your leg over his shoulder and started to lick at your clit.

You gasped and one of your hands threaded through his salt and pepper curls to steady yourself. His tongue flicked against your swollen, needy button teasingly. Your lower belly simmered with the heat of crackling coals.

Joel’s large hand found purchase on your hip and he squeezed in response to each noise that escaped you. He was soon embracing you with his full mouth, tongue licking between your folds, at your bud, into you. It was as if he was everywhere, helping himself to your taste and enjoying every bit of it.

“Oh,” you sighed, pushing your hips into his mouth involuntarily and his head bobbed in time with his motions.

Each flick, each twist of his tongue had you nearly writhing, and you were pretty sure it was only Joel’s hand on your hip keeping you from collapsing.

“Joel, I—it’s—oh please, I can’t—” You were babbling mindlessly, head empty, unsure of what you were even really saying.

Joel just chuckled against you, the vibrations running through your core making you gasp.

“Such a pretty pussy,” he murmured as he sucked and licked at your wetness. “‘S like you were made for me—just keep rockin’ your hips—oh, good girl.”

He lapped at you as you let out a high-pitched whine. You were there, right there, with his nose nudging at your clit and his warm wet tongue pushing into you and he was shaking his head and oh—

You bit your knuckle to muffle your moan as you came, your folds drenched, your lower belly warm, your legs shaking, your clit tingling.

“That’s it, that’s it.” Joel kept murmuring praises as you came down from your high, hips squirming from oversensitivity.

He placed soft and slow kisses on your right hip before rising and gripping your waist. Your legs nearly buckled.

Joel chuckled and caught you as you stumbled a bit, sweeping you up in his arms, the ease in which he lifted you making your belly swoop.

He pressed his lips to your hairline in an achingly sweet kiss. “How’s my girl feeling now?”

You let out a happy hum and rested your head on his shoulder. “Better.”

“Good.” You could hear the smile in his voice as he started to walk, carrying you like you were a princess. You supposed that you were, in a sort of way. You were his.

“Don’t go fallin’ asleep yet, babygirl.”

You hadn’t even realized that you’d been drifting off until he had said something. It wasn’t your fault. The gentle sway of him walking with you had rocked you to sleep…

“Sorry.” You yawned.

“I’m the one who’s sorry, honey,” he said. He held you closer. “And you gotta stay awake with me. I got a lot more I wanna do to apologize to my princess.”

The low voice he used made your heart flutter.

You were in for a very long night.

[earthlyangelbby]

Say Anything ❄️

CW: virgin!Eddie, kissing, fingering, blow job, P+V, nervous!Eddie reader is referred to as Angel she/her

Summary: A typical hangout turns into an unexpected sleepover when a snow storm traps Eddie at her house. A first for Angel and Eddie's friendship. But that isn't Eddie's only first that night.

7.8k words

For two months now she and Eddie had been inseparable, ever since they first met at Family Video, where he worked. She’d just moved to town, and Eddie, with his wild hair and easy grin, had been the first person to make her feel welcome. Spending their afternoons together, grabbing coffee, or just hanging out at each other's places was a welcomed new normal. Eddie insisted that in comparison to him, she was an Angel. So that's what he called her. Well most of the time anyway, Sweetheart and Darling still found a way to his list of names for her. 

Tonight, Angel had invited Eddie over again, knowing her dad was out of town. Her bedroom was its usual cozy mess, books, and clothes scattered across the floor. Eddie was sprawled on the bed, thumbing through her records.

The credits rolled across the screen as Peter Gabriel’s In Your Eyes played softly in the background. Eddie stretched his arms behind his head, his lips curling into a sly grin. 

“Alright, I’ll admit it—that was pretty solid. But the boombox scene? Total cheese.”

She hugged a pillow to her chest, narrowing her eyes at him. “Cheese? Eddie, that’s one of the most iconic romantic gestures of all time!”

Eddie scoffed, shaking his head. “Oh, come on. What kind of guy actually does that in real life? Stands outside someone’s window blasting music like a one-man concert?” He paused, his grin turning playful. “If I liked a girl, I’d at least write her a song or something, not just steal a track off the radio.”

“Wow, how original,” she shot back with a smirk. “A whole song? That’s so much cooler than Lloyd Dobler holding up a boombox.”

Eddie leaned forward, elbows on his knees, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Admit it, Angel—you’d totally swoon if a guy did that for you. The letter-writing, the boombox, the whole deal.”

She sighed dramatically, pressing the pillow to her chest. “Lloyd Dobler is the perfect guy. He’s sweet, thoughtful, and knows exactly what he wants. Who wouldn’t want someone like that?”

Eddie chuckled, shaking his head. “Yeah, okay. Perfect guy. Sure. But you’d be bored stiff after two weeks with him.”

Her jaw dropped. “Excuse me?!”

“Admit it,” Eddie teased. “You’d miss the fun of someone who actually knows how to keep you on your toes. Lloyd’s all grand gestures and deep talks, but where’s the chaos? The unpredictability?”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “You mean the kind of chaos you bring? Let me guess you’re more of a Fast Times at Ridgemont High guy.”

“That’s harsh,” Eddie said, catching the pillow she threw at him. “But accurate.” He grinned, leaning back into the couch. “Give me Spicoli over Lloyd Dobler any day. At least he knows how to have a good time.”

Shaking her head, she stood up and started gathering the empty snack bowls. “Yeah, that tracks. You’d be too busy making fun of everything to appreciate a real romantic gesture.”

Eddie wandered over to her record collection, his attention snagged by the neatly stacked vinyl. “Alright, now let’s see if your taste in music makes up for your questionable taste in movies.”

“Questionable?” she called over her shoulder, shooting him a look. “Says the guy who probably listens to nothing but screaming guitars.”

“Not just screaming guitars,” Eddie shot back, flipping through the records. He pulled one out, holding it up with a raised eyebrow. “Ah, ABBA. Dancing Queen. A true masterpiece.”

She snorted, crossing her arms. “Mock it all you want, but ABBA’s timeless.”

Eddie held up his hands in surrender. “Hey, don’t get me wrong. I can get down to ABBA.”

Her eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Wait, seriously?”

“Sure,” he admitted, smirking. “I just like seeing how mad I can make you.”

“You’re impossible,” she said, rolling her eyes but unable to hide her grin.

Before she could respond further, the crackle of the radio interrupted them, followed by a stern announcement from the weather service.

"Weather alert: A severe snowstorm is expected to hit the area tonight. Please Stay indoors and avoid unnecessary travel until further notice."

She raised an eyebrow, lips curling into a mischievous smile. “Looks like you’re stuck here, Eddie.”

Eddie straightened up, raising an eyebrow in mock disbelief. “Stuck? What do you mean? You invited me over on purpose, knowing this would happen. You wanted me to sleep over!”

Oh god, is he actually onto me? I mean, I didn’t plan for a snowstorm, but I’m not exactly upset it’s keeping him here longer. I can’t even deny that I might have... hoped for this. He’s probably just messing around.

She laughed, feeling the flush creep onto her cheeks. “It’s not like I planned for a snowstorm. Do you really think I can control the weather?”

Eddie leaned in, his grin widening. “So, you’ve got me stuck here with a snowstorm raging outside. I think that was your plan all along, sweetheart?”

She smirked, raising an eyebrow. “What? Do you think I invited you over just for the snow? Maybe I just like your company,” she teased, trying to sound casual.

Eddie's smile softened “You know I like your company too. I’m glad to be stuck here with you. Better than being by myself in my tin can.” 

She chuckled, glancing at the window where snowflakes were already swirling around. “As long as you don't hog all the covers we’ll be good Eds” 

Wait, what? Did she just—? Eddie’s thoughts raced. Did she really just say that? Does she want me to—sleep in her bed? Does she mean it? Or am I overthinking it? This is it. This is the moment. Don’t freak out, just stay cool, Munson. It’s just a bed.

Eddie’s grin faded for a moment, his eyes narrowing in curiosity. “Wait, so… do you want me to sleep in your bed with you?” he asked, a little taken aback by the suggestion. You have never crossed that line before, and the thought seemed to catch him off guard.

Her cheeks flushed with heat, but she shrugged it off, doing her best to play it cool. “I didn’t say anything about that,” she said, trying to sound casual, but there was a spark of something in her eyes. “I just meant, don’t hog the blankets if you’re sticking around.”

Eddie’s heart skipped a beat, and he couldn’t stop the grin that spread across his face. Oh, she definitely wants me in that bed. It’s in her eyes—she’s trying to act like she’s not into it, but I can tell. His pulse quickened as his mind raced. Okay, play it cool, Munson. Don’t give her the satisfaction of seeing how much I want this.

He leaned back slightly, glancing from her to the bed, pretending to give it a second thought. “Oh, I’m staying. No way am I braving that snowstorm just to freeze in my van.” His voice was smooth, but his thoughts were anything but. She’s giving me an opening. She’s letting me stay in her bed. I mean, she has to know how badly I want this. It’s all there, right? The way she said it, the way she looked at me…

She tried to hide the smirk tugging at her lips, but the playful gleam in her eyes didn’t quite match the nonchalance in her tone. “Relax, Eddie. It’s not like I’m asking you to stay forever.” She paused for a beat, her voice dropping into something just a little quieter, more teasing. “I’m just saying… share the blankets.”

Eddie’s grin widened, a thrill running through him. She’s giving me a chance here. She’s being coy, but I know what she’s doing. His mind spun with the possibility of what might come next. This is it. No turning back now.

“Well, in that case,” Eddie said, his voice low and teasing, “I guess I can handle a little blanket sharing. Not like I’ve got a choice now.”

Her lips fought a smile curving up slightly, “It's getting late, are you almost ready for bed?” 

Eddie let out a dramatic sigh as he tugged at the waistband of his jeans, giving her a playful look. God, this feels ridiculous. But seriously, I can't stop thinking about how she’s letting me stay here. In her bed. With her. This is actually happening, right?

He glanced over at her as she laughed, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “Guess I didn’t plan for the full-on ‘cozy night in,” Eddie said, a smirk tugging at his lips as he stood up, rolling his shoulders before making a dramatic show of pulling at the jeans again. Come on, play it cool. He caught her eye and winked, trying to act like it was all just casual fun, but inside, he was definitely feeling more than just the weight of the jeans. 

She shot him a teasing look. "What? You think those are uncomfortable? You really picked the tightest pair of jeans for a cozy snowed-in night?" she laughed, trying to hold back her smile. "You’re not gonna survive the storm in those."

Eddie glanced down at his jeans in exaggerated dismay. "You think these are the pants of misery?" He sighed dramatically. "Alright, you’ve got me. It’s either freedom of movement or... well, whatever this is."

She couldn’t help but laugh. "Exactly. You need something comfier if you’re planning to sleep." She casually walked over to her closet, pulling it open with a little shrug. "I don’t exactly have a ton of comfy options, though."

Eddie raised an eyebrow, half in jest, half in anticipation. "No sweatpants? Really?"

She turned back toward him with a smirk. "Sorry, not my style. But..." She paused, eyes glinting mischievously. "You could always just sleep in your underwear. No judgment."

Eddie froze for a second. His heart raced. Did she—? Did she just say that? He quickly suppressed the thought, but his mind couldn’t help but wander. "Oh, really? I’m free to just—" He cleared his throat, trying to play it cool. "Well, guess I don’t have much choice, huh?"

What if she’s serious? Eddie thought, his mind working overtime. She definitely wouldn’t suggest it unless she wanted me to, right?

She chuckled softly, glancing at him over her shoulder, amused by his reaction. She continued rummaging through her clothes, her heart skipping just a little bit at the thought of him actually following through. Does he know how hot he’d look in just his underwear? she thought, trying to focus on her task and not the fact that her imagination was already running wild. This is normal. I’m being normal about this. He’s not making a big deal of it. Neither should I.

"Guess that’s the only option," Eddie said, trying to play it off with a smirk, but inwardly, his excitement was building. Holy shit, she just gave me the green light...

She pulled a soft, cotton nightgown from the closet, holding it up to show Eddie. "This is what I’ll wear," she said, casually tossing it on the bed. It was simple, yet elegant—a soft blue nightgown that looked like it could almost flow if she twirled. 

Eddie’s breath hitched. His eyes flickered to her, then quickly down to the nightgown, his mind a little too distracted by the thought of seeing her in it. Oh my god, she looks amazing, even holding that thing up like it’s no big deal... He quickly pushed the thought aside, but his heart skipped a beat. "Nice," he said, a little too quickly. "That’s definitely fancier than my—well, my underwear."

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress a smile. Fancier? I’m just trying to be comfortable… but wow, he actually noticed. "Yeah, well, you’ll be fine in your own boxers," she said with a teasing smile. "Just get comfortable, Munson."

Eddie, still a little distracted by the sight of her in the nightgown, smiled and gave her a nod. God, I can’t wait to see her wear that.

"Alright, alright," Eddie said, his voice a little huskier than usual. "I’m gonna go change. Don’t worry, I’m making myself comfortable." As he walked off toward the bathroom, Eddie’s heart still pounded in his chest, anticipation hanging in the air like a sweet tension neither of them fully acknowledged—yet both could feel.

Her mind was already drifting, imagining him in just his boxers, stretching out on her bed, and her pulse quickened. This is gonna be a very interesting night.

As Eddie stepped into the bathroom, he quickly closed the door behind him, leaning against it for a moment to steady himself. His heart was still racing, a nervous excitement buzzing under his skin. Okay, Munson, you’ve got this. Just wash your face, get your shit together, and don’t act like a total idiot when you get back. He splashed some of her fancy cleanser onto his hands, massaging it into his face as he stared at himself in the mirror. Is this really happening? 

He shook his head, trying to clear the thoughts swirling in his mind. Of course, it’s happening. She’s not gonna make me sleep in a freezing room. She offered it. Don’t freak out. Just play it cool. Don’t act like this is the first time a pretty girl has said you can crash in her bed, even though it is.

In her room, She stood in front of her mirror, gently brushing out her hair, the rhythmic motion soothing her nerves. Her thoughts, however, were anything but calm. I can’t believe I just said that. Did I really just casually suggest he could sleep in his underwear? 

She paused, catching her reflection in the mirror and giving herself a brief, amused glance. He’s here. I want him here. And this feels like... well, like something I’ve been hoping would happen.

She glanced down at the nightgown she’d slipped into, a soft cotton fabric that barely brushed her knees, the cool blue color feeling delicate against her skin. It’s just a nightgown, she reminded herself, but the flutter in her chest said otherwise. No big deal, right?

She tugged at the short frilly sleeves, smoothing them down, feeling her pulse quicken just thinking about Eddie returning.

Eddie stepped out of the bathroom, still drying his hands on a towel, but the moment he saw her, he stopped cold. She stood by the mirror, brushing her hair with slow, deliberate strokes, and the sight of her hit him like a truck.

God, she’s gorgeous. Like something out of a dream. She doesn’t even know what she’s doing to me right now.

She glanced over at him, catching his reflection in the mirror before turning to face him fully. “Hey,” she said, her voice light but carrying an undertone of something... softer.

Eddie cleared his throat, trying not to visibly gawk. He leaned casually against the doorframe, forcing a grin that he hoped didn’t look as shaky as he felt. “Well,” he said, his voice low and teasing, “looks like your pajamas win. Just my boxers can’t compete with... that.”

Her cheeks turned pink, but she held his gaze, her lips curling into a playful smile. “Guess I have better taste than you, Munson,” she teased, her confidence surprising even herself. But inside she was static. She looked him up and down 

Eddie chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck as he tried to steady himself. “Yeah, well, if I’d known the competition was gonna be this stiff, I might’ve brought backup.”

She rolled her eyes, turning back to the mirror to set down her brush, but her smile lingered. Meanwhile, Eddie hesitated in the doorway, the playful smirk on his face betraying the nervous energy coursing through him. He rubbed his palms against the sides of his thighs and glanced at her, casually—but not really—trying to figure out his next move. He hadn’t been this nervous in ages.

“Alright, Angel,” he started, his voice carrying a teasing lilt, “what side of the bed am I claiming? Or are we flipping a coin for it?”

She laughed softly, turning from the mirror to face him fully. Her heart skipped at the sight of him standing there in just his boxers, his usual confidence somehow making the simple gesture of leaning against the frame look ridiculously attractive.

“The left,” she said, gesturing toward the bed. “That’s usually my side, but I’ll let you have it tonight.”

Eddie arched an eyebrow. “Oh, you’re giving up your side? That’s a big deal, Angel. I hope you know I don’t take this responsibility lightly.”

She rolled her eyes, climbing onto the bed and sliding under the covers. “You’re so dramatic,” she teased, fluffing her pillow. “But seriously, the left side is all yours.”

Eddie crossed the room and plopped onto the mattress, testing it out with exaggerated bounces. “Alright, not bad. Better than my van. You’ve got some luxury here.” He turned his head, flashing her a grin. “You sure about this, though? Sharing a bed with a wild card like me? I toss, turn, and talk in my sleep this could be dangerous.”

She smirked, pulling the blanket up to her chest. “I think I can handle it. Just don’t hog all the covers, and we’ll be fine.” He grinned, settling in as he tugged the blanket over himself. His bare arm brushed hers, and she couldn’t help but notice how warm his skin felt. A human furnace, for sure. The thought made her heart flutter.

As she lay there, Angel felt a rush of excited nerves spiraling through her. Eddie settled in beside her, and the small space between them felt charged with an energy she’d never experienced before. She glanced sideways, her breath catching in her throat as her eyes landed on his bare chest, perfectly defined and adorned in tattoos.

Holy hell, he looks good. She couldn’t help the warmth flooding her cheeks at the thought. 

Her heart raced as she shifted slightly, the sheets brushing against her skin. Seeing him in just his boxers made her pulse quicken in a way that had heat pooling low in her belly. 

This is Eddie. My friend Eddie. And here we are, sharing a bed like it’s the most normal thing in the world. Her mind raced with sudden images of what it would be like to lean in closer, to wrap her arms around him and feel every taut muscle under her touch. Just the idea made her core dampen in excitement.

 Is this really happening? Am I really lying here with him?

Eddie, on the other hand, was fighting his own wave of exhilaration. Being this close to her felt electric; her warmth, the soft scent of her hair, the way the sheets curled around her body. Everything was overwhelming in the best way. The moment he’d seen her in that nightgown, he felt a jolt of something primal, something he couldn’t quite place. She looks so beautiful, so inviting. He couldn’t take his eyes off her as they sat in the dim light, the soft shadows playing across her features. 

“Hey, you cold?” he asked. He could feel the way she shivered slightly, her skin just brushing against his arm. He had to suppress the warmth crawling through him at the thought of pulling her closer. “You know, if you need to, I could always offer my cuddling services,” he said, smirking as he waggled his eyebrows playfully. “I can be a professional snuggler. Consider it my personal mission to keep you warm tonight.”

Her pulse quickened at the suggestion. “Oh, really?” she replied, trying to sound casual. But inside, she was a flurry of thoughts, battling between wanting to take him up on it and pretending she was completely unaffected. “You think you can handle my cold touch?” 

Eddie laughed, the sound making her heart flutter again. “Trust me, Angel, by the end of the night, you’ll be the one begging for my warmth. Just you wait,” he said confidently. But his heart raced at the thought. This is it. She wants my warmth. She wants me to hold her. “Come on let me hold you, it’s a snowstorm out there; how can I let you freeze while I’m all toasty over here?” 

Angel could feel her cheeks heat at his words, excitement rushing through her like electricity. The way he said ‘hold you’ sent her mind spinning, and she wrestled with the desire to lay her head against his chest and feel his arms wrapped around her. Why does he have to make this so tantalizing? 

With a soft grin, she placed her head on the pillow directly next to him, inching closer. “Alright, snuggler, show me just how good you are at this.” Her voice came out a whisper, playful but carrying an undercurrent of sincerity that made Eddie's breath hitch.

He grinned, moving slightly closer, daring to let his bare skin make contact with hers. The warmth radiating from her felt amazing, and he could feel how beautifully soft she was against him. “Brace yourself,” he said, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. “It’s about to get extra cozy in here.” He shifted, wrapping an arm around her and pulling her gently nearer, feeling her warmth seep into him. 

Angel melted into him, the softness of his body against hers sending a thrill through her. His heartbeat was steady and comforting, a rapid drum against hers. As his arm encircled her, she felt the tension slip from her body, replaced by the undeniable warmth of being so close to someone she’d grown attached to in ways she could never have anticipated. 

Eddie’s heart raced as he pulled her snugly against him, the heat radiating off her making his insides swirl. This is better than I ever could’ve imagined. The way she fit against him felt so right. He could hear the slight hitch in her breath, and it made the adrenaline rush through him even more. She’s here. Holding me, feeling this. “See?” he murmured, a satisfied grin on his face. “Told you I’d keep you warm.” But inside, he was screaming in delight. The way her body felt against his was overwhelming, and he tried to focus on holding it together. Don’t screw this up, Munson. Just enjoy this moment.

Her heart raced as she heard the thud of his laying so close in the dark. “Mmm Eddie you’re so warm. You feel so strong.” 

 Eddie felt a rush of warmth flood through him at her words, a grin spreading across his face. The way she nestled against him, gripping onto his arm like he was her lifeline, sent a thrill racing straight to his core. He could feel her breath tickle against his skin, and it was like he was on fire, mesmerized by how close they were.  “Yeah, well,” he said, his voice playful, yet laced with a newfound vulnerability, “I’ve got to keep you warm somehow.” As she snuggled closer, her cheek brushing against his, he fought to keep it together, even as butterflies erupted in his stomach. “Strong, huh?” he continued, tilting his head slightly to look at her, the proximity making it impossible for him to hold back the urge to lean in. “You sure you’re not just saying that to get me to flex or something?”

“Mmm, I might just need a demonstration,” she teased, giving his arm a playful squeeze. Her voice was light, but it belied the undercurrent of affection she felt for him. Being this close felt so natural, so electric, and she reveled in the warmth of his body. Something about the intimacy of the moment made her heart race; it was as if every inch of her was hyper-aware of his presence.

Eddie couldn't help but chuckle. “Oh, trust me, if it were flexing you wanted, I could definitely show you that,” he said, a hint of sarcasm dancing in his tone. “But for now, I think I’ll just let my warmth do the talking.” He shifted slightly, turning to face her more fully, allowing her to press against him as he wrapped his other arm around her. As he pulled her closer, he marveled at how it felt to hold her. Her body molded perfectly against his, the curve of her shoulder snug against his chest. She fit as if she were meant to be there.

“Better?” he asked softly, letting his cheek rest against her hair, inhaling the faint scent of her shampoo that was sweet with coconut and cherries—something that felt both invigorating and calming at once.

“Much better,” she murmured, a smile playing on her lips. “You really are the best at this, Eddie.” 

Eddie’s heart swelled. The way she spoke made it sound like he was achieving some kind of monumental feat, like being a master cuddler was a serious accomplishment. He tightened his grip around her, letting his fingers caress her shoulder lightly, the intimacy of it making him feel both bold and protective.

“Glad I could impress you,” he joked softly, trying to maintain a light tone while the weight of the moment pressed in around them. He couldn’t shake the feeling that everything was changing in that instant, their friendship evolving into something deeper, something undeniably thrilling. “You know, after this, I might get a bigger ego,” he added with a laugh, but his eyes held a sincerity that belied the humor. 

As she snuggled closer, burying her face against his neck, he couldn’t help but feel utterly captivated. “You’re too humble for your own good, Eddie,” she whispered, her breath warm against his skin, igniting a spark of something unnameable within him. It was a simple gesture, yet it unraveled him in ways he could never have anticipated. 

For him, the boundaries they’d once tiptoed around began to blur, and as he held her tightly, he realized that he never wanted to let her go. “Just don’t forget it” 

“How could I ever forget you Eddie? You're all I think about.” 

Eddie’s heart hammered against his ribcage, a rapid tempo that mirrored the storm brewing outside. She was right in front of him, a vision of confidence and desire, and he wanted her more than he could articulate. But even as he leaned in to kiss her, there was a subtle tremor in his hands, a physical manifestation of the anxiety swirling in his chest.

“Are you serious?” he asked, the words escaping his lips with a breathless urgency. Doubts flickered in his mind, but her gaze was unwavering, fiery, and absolute.

“Dead serious,” she replied, her voice sultry and sure.

Eddie's heart was still racing as she leaned in, her lips brushing against his in a soft, gentle kiss. He pulled back slightly, his eyes locking onto hers in surprise. "What are you doing?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

She smiled and replied, "I'm kissing you," before leaning in again. This time, the kiss was deeper, more intimate. Eddie felt a shiver run down his spine as her lips met his once more. He kissed her back, his lips moving tentatively at first, but as the moment deepened, he found himself getting lost in the sensation.

As they kissed, Eddie's initial uncertainty gave way to a growing sense of desire. His touches became bolder, exploring the curves of her body. He wrapped his arms around her, drawing her closer as their lips moved together in perfect sync. The fears and doubts that had plagued him just moments before began to melt away, replaced by a sense of excitement and anticipation.

As they devoured each other's lips, their hands began to wander, seeking out the curves and contours of each other's bodies. She reached for him, her fingers tracing around his hips, teasing the hem of his boxers with a tantalizing slowness. Meanwhile, his hands glided up her thigh, slowly inching her nightgown upward, exposing the silky smooth skin beneath.

His fingers danced across her butt, tracing the rounded shape with a gentle reverence. The touch sent shivers down her spine, and she responded by tightening her grip on his hips, her thumbs dipping beneath the waistband of his boxers to tease the sensitive skin beneath. Eddie's hands continued their exploration, slowly creeping up under her nightgown to tease at her sides. His fingertips grazed her skin, sending sparks of desire through her body. Finally, he found what he was searching for - her breasts - and he squeezed them gently, feeling their softness and weight in his palms. Her nipples hardened beneath his touch, and she moaned into his mouth as he caressed her. His thumbs began to circle her nipples, teasing them into tight buds as he squeezed and released her breasts in a gentle rhythm. The sensation was almost too much to bear, and she felt herself melting into his touch, her body arching into his hands as she begged for more. Just as it seemed like they were going to combust from the intensity of their passion, Eddie broke away from the kiss, his eyes locking onto hers with a hungry gaze. "Can I take this off?" he asked, his voice low and husky as he tugged gently on the hem of her nightgown. The question hung in the air like a challenge, waiting for her response as they both stood there panting with anticipation.

As she spoke the words, her voice was a sultry whisper, dripping with desire and submission. "You can do whatever you want to me, Eddie," she breathed, her eyes locked on him with a fierce intensity. The phrase was a dare, a challenge, and a promise all rolled into one, and it sent a shiver of excitement down Eddie's spine.

"I want you," he growled, his voice low and husky with need. "I want all of you." The fabric whispered against her skin as it rose higher and higher, exposing her curves and contours to Eddie's hungry gaze. He watched, mesmerized, as her breasts were revealed, followed by the gentle slope of her stomach and the curve of her hips. Finally, the nightgown was pulled over her head and discarded. 

Eddie's eyes drinking in the beauty of her body. He felt his desire surge to new heights as he gazed at her, his hands itching to touch and explore every inch of her skin. "You're so beautiful," he whispered, his words barely audible over the sound of their ragged breathing.

As Eddie's eyes continued to drink in the beauty of her body, she began to squirm with anticipation, her skin tingling with desire. "Touch me," she whispered, her voice a desperate plea. "Please, Eddie, touch me."

Eddie's hands hovered over her skin, his fingers twitching with restraint. He wanted to touch her, to explore every inch of her body, but he was hesitant to take the next step. He didn't want to do anything that might make her uncomfortable.

"Touch me," she begged again, her voice growing more urgent. "I want to feel your hands on me."

Eddie's eyes met hers, searching for guidance. "How?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

She smiled, a sly smile that sent shivers down his spine. "Pull my panties down," she whispered.

Eddie's hands trembled as he reached for the waistband of her panties. He slowly pulled them down, exposing the soft skin beneath. She lifted, allowing him to slide the panties down her leg and discard them.

As soon as she was naked before him, she reached out and took his hand in hers. She guided it between her legs, placing his fingers against the soft folds of her skin. "Rub me here," she whispered, showing him how to gently circle his fingers around her clit.

Eddie watched in awe as she demonstrated how much pressure to apply, how fast or slow to move his fingers. She gasped with pleasure as he followed her instructions, his fingers dancing across her skin in a gentle rhythm.

As they laid there together, lost in the sensation of their bodies touching, she reached out and took Eddie's other hand in hers. She guided it between her legs once again, this time taking two of his fingers and placing them at the entrance of her opening.

"You can put them inside me," she whispered, looking up at him with eyes that were dark with desire.

Eddie hesitated for a moment before gently pushing his fingers into her body. As they slid inside of her warm flesh ,she let out a moan of pleasure and wrapped herself tightly around him . As Eddie's fingers slid deeper into her, she began to rock her hips back and forth, her body trembling with pleasure. He watched in awe as she moved against him, her eyes closed in ecstasy.

"More," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of their ragged breathing. "I want more."

He looked up at her, his eyes wide with wonder. His fingers are still figuring out a rhythm "You like that?" he asked breathlessly. 

Angel nodded, her hips moving against his hand. “Yes Eddie, feels good, keep going," she urged, her voice husky with need. But then she saw the confusion in his eyes and realized he wasn't sure what to do next. So she took matters into her own hands, reaching down and guiding him inside her.

Eddie groaned at the feeling of his fingers being enveloped by her warmth. God it's so tight. I hope I'm not hurting her. I'm gonna try curling my fingers. 

He started to move, slow at first, not wanting to hurt her. But as she began to respond, her moans growing louder, he found his rhythm. “You sound so pretty for me sweetheart”

Hearing how desperate and hot Eddie sounded was almost too much. “Eddie please... feels good”

"So wet," he murmured. His fingers curled slightly, mimicking the action he'd take once inside her. "You're so tight and warm."

Angel whimpered, already aching for his touch. She wanted him to make her feel even better than her own hand could. "Faster," she begged breathlessly. "I need it."

"Mmm you’re so hot," Eddie replied, his words filled with desire. He sped up sliding two fingers between her folds, eliciting a gasp from her lips. "So slippery and soft," he praised, his voice barely above a whisper. His finger began to pump in and out of her, the friction causing her clit to pulse. Her hips started to move on their own, seeking more pressure. 

Angel reached down and wrapped her hand around his wrist, slowing him down. Grinding down on his fingers. “Focus on my clit and just tease my opening eds. Please. It feels so good”

Eddie listened, quickly pumping his fingers inside her and using the other to rub her clit, “Like that?” he huffed out.

Angel’s head fell back and her moans filled the room. “Oh! Eddie Yes! Just like that. Please. Please. I’m gonna cum.” Angel’s body arched off the bed as Eddie's thumb rubbed hard circles her clit while his fingers continued to tease her swollen entrance. The sensation was enough to send a powerful wave of pleasure through her entire being. She could feel her orgasm building, growing stronger with each flick and slide of his fingers. "Yes! Oh god, yes!" she cried out, her voice thick with desire.

Eddie smiled, watching her reaction, and continued to pleasure her exactly how she asked. He followed into her reactions learning just how to push her to the edge, making her writhe beneath him. His thumb danced across her sensitive nub, while his fingers played at her opening, torturously not giving her what she craved, but driving her wild with need all the same.

"Cum on my fingers, Angel," he whispered, his voice low and seductive.

She let out a strangled moan, her hips bucking against his hand. "I... I'm so close," she panted, her nails digging into his arm. Her whole body felt like it was on fire, every nerve ending screaming for release.

"That's it, baby, don't hold back," he encouraged, increasing the pressure on her clit. "Let go. I've got you."

With a final flick, he sent her over the edge. Her back arched a silent scream leaving her lips as pure bliss exploded through her. Her walls fluttered around his fingers, pulsing in rhythmic waves as she rode out her climax.

As Eddie watched Angel's face contort in ecstasy, he couldn't help but get lost in the sight of her. She looked like a beautiful goddess, her body writhing and shaking as her internal muscles gripped his fingers. The feeling was unlike anything he'd ever experienced before, completely addictive.

Angel finally fell back onto the bed, panting heavily. Eddie could see how worked up she still was, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she caught her breath. He couldn't take his eyes off her, drinking in the sight of her flushed skin and messy hair.

"Wow, that was something else," he said softly, still lost in thought. 

Angel smiled at him, a warm and inviting expression that seemed to light up her entire face. 

"It was incredible," she agreed, her voice barely above a whisper. "You have some skills, Eddie."

He winked at her playfully. "I'm glad my technique is improving." 

Angel let out a soft laugh and reached for him, pulling him down into a deep kiss. Their tongues danced together, tasting and exploring each other's mouths. Eddie could feel his arousal growing with each passing second, his cock hardening and pressing against her thigh.

When they finally broke apart, Angel looked down between them, her eyes widening as she took in the sizable bulge straining against Eddie's boxers. She licked her lips hungrily, a mischievous glint in her eye.

"I think it's time I returned the favor," she purred, her hand sliding over to palm his erection through the thin fabric. "I want to make sure you feel good to Eds. I want to feel your cock in mouth."

Eddie gasped in surprise at her bold words, his eyes widening as he took in the sultry look on her face. He'd never heard Angel talk so dirty before, and it sent a shiver down his spine. The combination of her sweet, innocent demeanor and these naughty, filthy words falling from her lips was intoxicating.

"God, Angel," he panted, his voice strained with desire. "You keep talking like that and I might just explode before you even get started."

She smirked up at him, enjoying the effect she was having. "Is that a challenge?" she teased, her fingers tracing the outline of his cock through his boxers.

Eddie shuddered, feeling himself throb under her touch. "It might be," he admitted, his breathing growing heavier by the second.

Angel didn't waste any more time. She tugged his boxers down, his aching cock springing free. It was thick with a pink tip glistening from all the precum. 

Eddie watched, mesmerized, as Angel wrapped her hand around his length, her hands made him look so big he thought.

She gave him a gentle squeeze, then stroked him upward, her palm gliding over the smooth skin. The sensation was incredible, sending ripples of pleasure through his entire body. 

"Ah, yes," she whispered, her voice husky and full of promise. "This is what I'm talking about."

With that, she leaned forward, her mouth opening to take him in. Eddie felt a jolt of electricity run through him as her lips closed around the head of his cock, the warmth and wetness enveloping him like a dream. He was lost in the sensation, his hips bucking reflexively into her mouth.

Angel moaned softly, the vibrations running up his shaft and making his balls tingle. She began to move her head in a slow, sensual rhythm, her tongue darting out to taste him.

"Holy fuck, Angel," Eddie groaned, his hands coming up to tangle in her hair. "Your mouth feels amazing." He could hardly believe this was happening, that the sweet girl he'd known was now on her knees in front of him, sucking his cock like a pro. The sight alone was almost enough to make him cum right then and there.

"Look at you," he panted, his voice rough with lust. "You’re so fucking sexy, taking my dick like that. You like it, don't you? Like having me in your pretty little mouth." he whimpered out desperately.It was obvious he was losing himself in the pleasure and babbling nonsense. 

Angel hummed in response, the sound sending shivers down his spine. She picked up the pace, her head bobbing faster as she took him deeper. Her cheeks hollowed with the effort, creating a delicious suction that made Eddie's toes curl.

"Damn, sweetheart, you're going to make me cum if you keep doing that," he warned, his breath hitching. "But I don't want it to end yet."

She pulled away, leaving a trail of saliva connecting her lips to the tip of his cock. "Then maybe we should try something different," she suggested, a sly smile playing on her lips. "

Angel laid down on the mattress, “C’mere Eds”

Eddie was excited but also nervous, some of his confidence from just a second ago leaving him, he placed himself between her legs, hovering over her and leaned down to kiss her on the head.  “Tell me if it hurts or if I do something wrong.” she nodded.

He reached between their bodies and grasped himself, pumping it in his hand a few times, lining it up with her opening. He rubbed circles around her opening with his tip. This made her moan, then with a gentle push he inched into her slowly wet heat. She felt tight and silky smooth around him, her inner muscles clutching at him as he filled her completely.  Angel’s breath quickened as Eddie’s movements intensified. Each thrust sent shockwaves of pleasure coursing through her body, stoking the fire within her.  "Faster," she gasped, arching her hips to meet his. "Don't hold back."

Eddie growled low in his throat, picking up the pace. The room filled with the sound of their heavy breathing and skin slapping against skin. Sweat glistened on their bodies as they writhed together, lost in the throes of passion.

Angel wrapped her legs around Eddie’s waist, urging him deeper inside her. She could feel every ridge and vein of his hard length stretching her, filling her completely. The pressure was delicious, teetering on the edge of pain and pleasure.

"Eddie!" she cried out, feeling herself nearly there. With one final thrust, she exploded in a powerful orgasm, her body shuddering beneath him.

"Oh my God, Angel," he panted, his eyes closing briefly as pleasure washed over him. "You feel so fucking good."

Eddie groaned deeply, the sound muffled by her neck where he buried his face. His body tensed and shuddered as he followed her over the edge, he pulled out, spilling himself onto her stomach. 

Both panting heavily as they tried to catch their breath. Slowly, reality seeped back in - the feeling of sweat cooling on their skin, the scent of sex thick in the air. He pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. Then laid beside her. As their bodies slowly relaxed after the moment they had just shared, Eddie's body trembled unexpectedly. It started with a slight shiver, then gradually grew more pronounced, his muscles involuntarily twitching. His chest heaved as he tried to steady his breathing, but something about the vulnerability of the moment made his whole body shake.

Angel noticed immediately, her brows furrowing in concern. "What’s wrong Eddie, you're shaking?" she asked softly, her voice laced with a tenderness that matched the care in her eyes.

Eddie didn’t respond at first, his body still shivering, his fingers curling against the bed. He tried to hide it with a forced laugh, but it came out shaky. "I….I don’t know ." 

Without hesitation, Angel pulled him closer, her hand gently rubbing his back in soothing circles. She kissed his shoulder lightly, her voice full of reassurance. "You don’t have to be tough with me, Eddie. It's okay to feel... whatever you're feeling."

Eddie let out a shaky breath, his body still trembling in her arms. He swallowed hard, trying to find the words, but his voice was a little off like he couldn't quite gather his thoughts. "I don’t know what’s happening. It's like... my body’s just freaking out."

Angel continued to hold him, her hands tracing his skin with a comforting rhythm. "It's okay," she whispered again, her voice soft as she pulled him even closer, her warmth radiating against his. "It’s normal, you’re safe. I’m here."

He clung to her, the tremors beginning to slow, his breathing finding some steadiness as she whispered words of comfort. Eventually, the shaking stopped, and he exhaled deeply, the weight of everything finally sinking in.

"I just like you so much," he murmured again, but this time, there was a deeper sincerity in his tone. "I... I don’t know what I’d do without you."

Angel smiled softly, her hand brushing the damp hair away from his forehead. "You don’t have to know," she said gently. "I’m right here, I’m with you Eddie."

As Eddie’s breathing finally steadied, a crooked grin crept onto his face, though his cheeks still carried a faint flush. He looked at Angel, his eyes warm and glinting with mischief.

 "You know," he said, his voice still a little shaky but laced with humor, "when the snow clears, I think I need to head to the post office."

Angel blinked, confused for only a split second before realization dawned on her. She narrowed her eyes, a playful smirk tugging at her lips. "You’re not seriously talking about sending me a letter like Lloyd Dobler, are you?"

Eddie chuckled, the grin spreading wider as he tilted his head back against the pillow. "Busted," he admitted, the laughter in his voice easing the last bit of tension lingering in the room. "But hey, if it worked for Lloyd..."

Angel rolled her eyes, though she couldn’t suppress the smile that followed. "You’re ridiculous," she teased, nudging him lightly. "Do you even know what you’d write in that letter?"

He shrugged, a mock-serious expression crossing his face. "Something profound. Like, ‘You’re amazing, and I’ll stand outside your window with a boombox any day.’"

She laughed, the sound bright and genuine as she leaned into him. "Oh, you’re full of it," she said, shaking her head fondly. "But you know what? I wouldn’t mind getting a letter like that."

Eddie’s grin softened into something more tender as he looked at her, his hand brushing a stray strand of hair from her face. "Noted," he said, his voice low. "But I think I’ll stick to telling you in person. Feels more... us."

Angel’s smile widened, and she rested her head against his chest again, listening to the steady beat of his heart. "That’s perfect," she whispered, her fingers lightly tracing patterns on his skin. "Just don’t expect me to buy you a boombox."

Eddie laughed, the sound rumbling through his chest. "Deal," he said, holding her tighter.

Thanks so much for reading! Let me know what you think in the comments/tags

[whorevolo]

DRACO (DILEMMA.)

pairing : draco malfoy x reader. synopsis : draco malfoy is the most insufferable prat you have ever met—yet it makes him all the more interesting. he shows the same interest in you. and you hated that.   warnings : 1.7k words. profanities that are canon in the series, fluff ﹖, implied history between reader and draco, no y/n mentioned. author’s notes : i’ve been wanting to write this fic for a while, but i’ve finally gotten the motivation to write it after weeks of staring at nothing at all. （ this was written september first '24, happy sorcerer’s stone day! ）

Draco Malfoy. He was always intriguing to you. You were, in a sense, interested in him.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎You let out a heavy sigh. Potions, how wonderful. Snape, while a great professor, was someone you absolutely dreaded seeing every week. It didn’t help that you had to see him every single day. You tap your fingers against the wooden desk in front of you, while your mind subconsciously floats around.

‎ ‎ ‎Sat before you was the infamous Draco Malfoy. If that didn’t click yet, then these synonyms for Draco Malfoy might: Harry Potter’s arch nemesis, The Stick Up Harry Potter’s Arse, Daddy’s Money…

‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎Your eyes unconsciously gaze towards Malfoy who sat a table away. Conventionally, he was attractive—extremely attractive. However, you were aware it was his attitude that put people off. No one would like to be around someone who scowls at someone who does so much as breathe in their direction.

‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎You flick the end of your quill, which has been in a coarse state for quite some time now, yet you never found yourself wandering to Diagon Alley in hopes of purchasing another one. Snape had been rambling on for about thirty minutes or so and you found yourself just scribbling over a piece of parchment. 

‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎Admittedly, you’ve been staring at Draco for about thirty minutes in question. It wasn’t like he had done anything interesting; he was a normal student who excelled above most students, played quidditch, and was wealthy. You could find anyone like that in other houses - still you found yourself fixating on him. Not in a creepy way as far as you were concerned.

‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎“Oi,” Pansy pokes at your wrist. “Staring at Malfoy again? And you’re doing that as the same person who had told me I was obsessed with him during the second year.”

‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎“Stop it, Pansy,” you exhaled. “I am not staring at him; just observing, not staring. Different things, if you cared to know.” You retort in defense.

‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎Pansy was right - you had told her off during your earlier Hogwarts years for being so attracted so Malfoy, yet here you were, practically gawking at him. The last thing you needed was for people to begin running their mouths about your 'crush' on Malfoy. Which wasn’t true. At least that was what you told yourself. Your mind wanders back to the discussion, tuning out Snape’s booming voice in your head. His voice, at one point, had become white noise to you.

‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎After class, you were walking down the corridor with Pansy, textbook clutched in your arms to your chest. You were pretty annoyed at the time; Snape had given yet another essay that could go on for miles and miles. And if Snape wanted a whole meter-long essay, it was either that meter-long essay or no mark at all.

‎ ‎ ‎“Outrageous, honestly.” You shook your head. Pansy seemed amused due to how worked up you were, but at this point, it was no surprise.

‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎“I mean, no one wants to write a whole bloody essay and h—” ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎“Ouch,” someone hissed after bumping into your shoulder. The audacity? You turn your head to see who the person is and become flabbergasted at the sight. Draco Malfoy.‎ ‎

ㅤYour face twists into a smug smirk, yet somehow, Draco makes no move to formulate a witty remark against it. “My apologies, Malfoy,” you said. Draco’s face contorts into something akin to disdain, yet you ignore it. He walks away after; you’d notice how he carried himself and how he delivered most of his response. With pride and confidence, you observed. That smirk transformed into a small smile, which earned you a nudge from Pansy.

ㅤ“So, are we heading to the library, or would you rather continue making expressions to the air?” Pansy raised her brows at you. She didn’t seem to take notice of the interaction you just had with Draco, given she was a few feet away, so perhaps she had continued walking after Draco had bumped into your shoulder.

ㅤ“Alright, alright,” you murmur, walking forward to walk side by side with her. “So impatient.” You muse, giggling. That earned you a harsher nudge, a shove from Pansy. “Ouch— Godric, Pansy. Does no one teach you how to treat your friends?”

ㅤ“You’re the last person who's supposed to be speaking of mistreating friends,” said Pansy who seemed to be growing impatient and frustrated. Pansy and her temperament, what a great thing to experience during your free period. You loved your dear friend but sometimes you’d rather get whipped around by the Whomping Willow rather than dealing with her and her ticking timebomb of a personality.

ㅤIt wasn’t like he hated you. He, too, found you interesting. You weren’t the nicest student, but you were a bright student. It earned you some respect, which he had to give you a bit of credit himself. But he didn’t consider himself your acquaintance either. He wasn’t your enemy, nor your rival.

ㅤDuring Transfiguration, you were awfully bored. You were practically melting into the wood of your desk from how slouched over you are. As much as you respected McGonagall and her work ethics, her lecture wasn’t the best thing to listen to when you only got three hours of sleep during the night. Your finger taps against the desk in a pattern, as if indenting your fingerprint on the wooden surface. You feel something brush against your arm, and you see a crane.

ㅤYou sigh, flicking it off of your desk in annoyance. There came another flying crane. You flick it off again. There came a third crane when you were about to flick the previous one off.

ㅤ“Oh my God,” you groaned. You decided to just unfold the crane, in hopes to get rid of the cranes for good. There was writing; Swirls of cursive letters decorate the parchment, that was the first thing you noticed. You dread reading the note, but you had to eventually if you wanted the cranes to stop hauling in your way.

ㅤMeet me tonight, ㅤ- D. Malfoy.

ㅤThis prat was insufferable. Not like you haven’t realized that yet, but it was like a reminder that he was indeed the most insufferable person you've ever met.

ㅤInsufferable he was, but you chose to meet him anyway. You weren't sure where, but you had a gut feeling you knew where he fancied meeting. It made you want to gag—the fact you knew where he wanted to meet. That's utterly disgusting and out of character for you. Though Pansy does say you're just in denial. Your footsteps echoed, making no move to shush them as you walk down the hall. You try to tell yourself that you rather Filch catch you than having to meet with Malfoy out of all people.

ㅤ“Malfoy,” you breathe out. Much to your dismay, he was serious about meeting you tonight. It wasn’t like this was the first time, however. So, it didn’t feel too out of place. You watch as he turns his head towards you, his usually styled hair now free from whatever routine he did in the morning to achieve its usual look.

ㅤ“Oh, it’s you.” He spoke. ㅤ“It’s me.” You confirm.

ㅤUncomfortable silence overcomes both of you but seeing as you were now in the Astronomy Tower late at night, it wouldn’t be far-fetched. Adding onto the awkwardness, it was cold. Extremely cold. Unbearably cold.

ㅤYou rub your palms against your forearm, “Is there something you wanted? You don’t usually… you don’t usually tell me to meet you. I figured that was more of my job, not yours.” You raise a brow. ㅤHe shook his head, “Don’t act so idiotic for once, you act as though we don’t meet every other night.”

ㅤ“It’s different,” you retort. ㅤ“How different?” He protests.

 ㅤTruthfully, you didn’t know how to answer that. It was clear you weren’t friends, nor enemies. It wasn’t like you were close in any way. You were just two people strung along by fate who just so happened to be illicitly meeting during the afterhours. Illicitly in a sense that you knew you weren’t supposed to be associating with him—you knew that. But you still do it. 

ㅤ“How different is it?” His voice snaps you out of your train of thought, making direct eye contact. “It’s ridiculous how you start things you can barely finish, are you not ashamed?” He hissed.

This boy was beyond terrible. His reputation was very telling, yet here you were.  ㅤ“Why would I be ashamed?” You frown. “You were the one who asked to meet, but you’re also the one who’s berating me at the mome–” ㅤ“I like you.” ㅤ“...What?” ㅤAnother series of deafening silence overcomes your surroundings. Your initial denial had become your ultimate realization that ... maybe you do like him. Maybe you fancied him more than you let on. You felt your heart almost burst out of it's confides in your chest, caged in your ribs. Your gaze sets on him for what felt like an eternity; it was an embarrassingly long moment of just eye contact with the guy you've sworn you never liked - at least romantically.  ㅤ“Are you deaf? I said I like you,” he repeated, as if his first confession had fallen on deaf ears. You shook your head at this, almost like that'd be your final response.  ㅤBut you spoke up, “You like me?” ㅤ“Were you not present the whole time I had been talking? It's no wonder you're failing Potions.” He sighed. He really took the chance to throw an insult at anyone. Even the person he liked.

ㅤ“No, no, I heard you,” you retort. You feel your forehead wrinkle in thought, yet he stood there so eerily unmoving. ㅤ“So why is it that you're incapable of responding?” He hissed, “You're associated with Parkinson, no? Maybe that's where all this obliviousness is coming from—” ㅤ“I like you too.” You reply firmly in the midst of his ramble. You could feel the air grow tense as Draco freezes before you, his eyebrows shooting up.

ㅤPerhaps he wasn't as bad as you thought. That was something you realized after you departed to Hogsmeade with him the next day. And although he could still be described as moody and a git, he was ... somewhat decent to you, his friends would point out. And well, you did get relentlessly teased and picked on by your clique, but you weren't bothered—not when you've charmed Draco Malfoy, of all people.

[dilf-docs]

Can We Hit It Now, Low-Down And Gritty?

dieter bravo x younger!reader

summary: the last thing you need is world-renowed asshole slash actor dieter bravo to yell at you for doing your job. he'll pay for that.

warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap, smut, p. in v., pwp, size kink, brat taming, degradation kink, fingering, oral (f. receiving), pussy spanking (again?! dilf-docs u horndog WE GET IT), creampie, tbh this is just pure filth pls forgive me Lord I have sinned, dieter bravo (yes that's a warning), nicknames (doll), reader is a glorified porn writer, she can also speak spanish but no physical description/nationality is mentioned

word count: 6,324 words

side note: hello someone please take away ai bots from me thank you. won't add anything else, just enjoy this horny mess sponsored by our fluffy disaster king (did enjoy writing their banter though). i need to be on horny jail bc i'm on those days and wrote this in about 24 hours talk about desperate like i'm going to hell wow if you know me irl no you don't

The set was quiet, well, as quiet as it could be: quick footsteps, flickers of lights, turning of pages, sips of freshly bought coffee and instructions yelled to the air.

That is something you can control. Like, even. But this job isn't easy, given not only what but also who you need to handle.

And speaking about the devil, here comes the who: world-renowned asshole and actor, Dieter Bravo, storming into the place with a strenuous walk.

Just what you need: he's coming in your direction with what you recognize is the movie's script in his hands.

"Who wrote this?!" he angrily shouts, glaring at the people on the set.

"I did" you stand still, defiant even. "Is that a problem?"

Dieter scoffs when he hears your response.

"Is that a problem?" he mocks. "Look at this!"

He holds up the script but you don't even bother to look at it: you've read it so many times, you could recite it from memory.

"This crap isn't going to sell" Dieter argues. "People aren't going to be interested in this story"

There's an irritated expression on his face as he looks down on you. Does Dieter think you care? Of course you knew it was bullshit as soon as you finished the first page, but you had to pay bills, and working this shitty jobs would get you closer to the contacts you needed―the only reason you're doing this in the first place.

"Tell me" he stands before you, and he's so close, you can hear his uneven breathing. "Did you really write this garbage?"

What's the point in lying? The only reason why you did is because you wanted to make him mad. Is it childish? Yes. But you have your reasons, the biggest one being that in no way would you allow a celebrity to talk down on you like that. It's one of the worst parts of your job, and not even Dieter and his handsome face would let you take his shit.

"No, I didn't. But I approved it" you cross your arms, revealing the truth. "You know, you're being very dissmisive of people's hard work because you can't stand not being so called perfect. It's called humilty, you could try"

(You don't really care about this people's hard work that much. They did a bad job, but in the end, a job. He should respect them for that, not the result. A bad one, objectively speaking)

Dieter scoffs at your response, obviously not liking the snarky tone.

"Oh, you approved it?" his tone comes out annoyed. "Which means you know it's crap, right?"

You shrug your shoulders, making him visibly frustrated with the conversation.

"This has nothing to do with me wanting to be the spotlight, you idiot" Dieter raises his voice, "did you even stop to think about the viewers?"

Okay, so now you're the villain. Frankly, it's been a bad week, and the last thing you want is this guy thinking he can get away with harrassing and talking down a less payed crew member just because he's rich, famous and hot. Whatever. If he wanted to play with fire, you'll happily be the match.

"Listen, I approved it because I want to go home and be at peace. Don't give me crap about the viewers. Of course I know this is shit! But I don't get paid enough to care. Besides, even if I wanted, I couldn't change it. You're angry at the wrong person; I'm just following orders"

Dieter clenches his fist, clearly struggling to keep his calm.

"So you just do whatever the hell the director says?" he spits in a irritated tone.

"That's about my job"

"You do know that could mean this movie flops, right? Is that how little you care about what you do?"

Dieter stands before you, crossing his arms, the veins on them popping with annoyance.

"You don't know shit about me" you reply while trying not to look at his flexing biceps too much, hoping he doesn't notice. "And I'm sorry to break it to you, but not all of us are big names that can do whatever they please or hold that much power. If it was up to me, I wouldn't hire this stupid director, writer or you, who, by the way, are way past your prime"

It's an unnecesary offense you truly didn't mean, but you hate the way he talks to you as if you were stupid. And maybe the blow felt bigger because you are a fan. Geez. You thought working with him would be a dream, despite his reputation, yet now all the claims are becoming true in the worst way possible. The last thing you need is Dieter finding out you're a fan, and even if it's a coward way out, you'll defend what's left of your dignity however it takes.

Dieter's brown eyes widen in disbelief at your petty comment. Then, they spark with rage, as he looks quite furious.

"Excuse me?! You don't get to talk about me like that" Dieter moves his ringed hands erratically in the air, as to make his point any more clear. "Do you know how hard I've worked for my career? I won't have anyone, less a little brat, tell me I'm past my prime"

You admire his career, that's the worst of it all. But the annoyance has settled deeply in between you both, and you find yourself at loss for words or energy to keep bickering. Besides, behind you, you can hear the order to continue filming in a few.

"Yeah, you don't get to talk to me like that either. I guess we're even" you sigh, tiredly. "Anything else I can help with, Mr. Bravo?"

If you could, you would cover your mouth in horror. You didn't mean to call his name like that, as if you're allured by him. Fuck Dieter. You hope he doesn't read too much into the tone.

But of course his drug-fried brain would notice that, the actor staring at you with a puzzled look when you call his name.

"Oh, now you're calling me Mr. Bravo, eh? Trying to flirt your way out of this? I'm not a dumbass, you know"

The fact that he associates the calling with flirting rather than nerves makes your eyes twitch. He keeps staring at you, heat making it's way to your face. It's like he's trying to find out if what you said was indeed flirting, and given by the smirk he's giving you, it seems Dieter's got the wrong veredict.

"I'm not stupid either, but here you're talking to me like I am"

Great. That came out even more childish than you intended.

You think the color painting your cheeks is noticeable now, as Dieter lets out a small chuckle. He then cuts the distance even more, the irritating smirk still on his face.

"Well, then don't try and play me like I'm an idiot." Dieter pauses for a moment, then continues in a teasing tone when he sees your flushed face. "Oh, you're so red... It's cute"

"Cute?" the sound you let out is a mix of a chuckle and scoff. "Did you just call me cute? Are you too trying to flirt your way out with of this?" you repeat his same words from earlier. He chuckles amused at your behavior, his smirk turning into a cocky smile as he stares down at you.

"Me? flirt my way out? I would never." he then continues to speak in an amused tone. "I call people I find cute, cute...and you are definitely cute"

"Oh, I'm not the only one then, huh? And here I thought I was special" you feign hurt, and even if you're not an actor, you hope it sells. "And here I thought we were playing the same game. Well, I suppose we're done, and you can go back to filming or complaining, whatever suits you. Oh, the director is here: now bother someone else"

"Special? Nah, can't say you are." he says playfully at your attempt to brush him off. Then Dieter glances over in the director's direction but his gaze returns to you. "Oh, I'll deal with him later, you worry about yourself, sweet cheeks"

You know it's part of the banter, but it's no news to anyone who truly knows you the insecurity you've felt after so many projects rejected, ideas scrapped and terrible dating life. The you're not special hangs in the air, suffocating you; it feels like a slap to the face. Not to be a downer or such a mood changer, but it's hard to pretend. Yeah, you couldn't be an actor even if you tried to.

"Yeah I know" you answer, this time not pretending. Your voice may have given you away, so you turn around, hoping he doesn't get to see your face fall. "You're right, I'll take care of myself or whatever you said before. Bye, Mr. Bravo" you rush the words out, embarrased at yourself and how easily he's got you wrapped around his finger.

Really? And I called him again like that? So stupid.

But he notices that your face has changed a bit, picking up the slight change. Dieter feels a slight pang of guilt for what he said, his smirk disappearing from his face. He lets out a sigh when you bid goodbye; he was having fun.

"Hey, wait a minute"

The actor reaches out and gently grabs your arm, stopping you from leaving.

"What do you want?" you dryly ask, trying to keep a stoic façade, hoping Dieter doesn't catch the racing heartbeat by touching your wrist. "Go bother someone else"

"What I want..." he pauses for a brief moment, "...is for you to not walk away"

Dieter's grasp on your wrist loosens a bit, but he still keeps a hold on you. "I made a mistake. I was being an ass"

Was he, apologizing? For a moment, it seemed like Dieter was going to admit to what he did, which was unlike him, but his voice sounded genuine.

"D-Dieter!" you squeak his name in surprise, then blushing at the embarrassing sound. "You can't be serious, I mean- I'm the one that's sorry, I was an ass first. I think I deserve that"

It doesn't make sense and yes, you deserve his apology, yet at this point you're braindead and this is nothing but just nervous rambling at his actioms, so out of character from what you've heard and know.

A small chuckle escapes from the actor's mouth when he hears you squeak his name.

"I am serious. I mean it. You did not deserve it" his light grasp on your wrist stays as he slowly runs his thumb over your skin. Dieter stands even closer, making your breath hitch.

"W-what are you doing? You realize we're on set, right?" I laugh nervously, yanking my arm, even if you want him to still hold you.

The actor slowly loosens his grasp on you and lets go of your wrist, but the relief is short-lived as he moves his hand to your chin, tilting your head up to look at him.

"Of course I know we're on set. Why? You think I'm doing something you don't like?"

Mischief glistens in his eyes, and you gulp nervously at the turn of events.

"I don't like it because it's not what I've heard from you" you confess before even stopping to think a proper answer. "You know, they warned us... to not get involved with the cast, and you? This isn't who I thought... heard- I think I'm going insane" you get very nervous, well aware you're doing a very poor job at hiding it. "Y-you have an exhibition kink or something?"

Ah, why. Yes, of course your mouth and brain had teamed up against you, the duo an expert on ruining your life.

See, it was a joke, but it comes out horribly wrong, making you cover your mouth. "Fuck, I'm sorry, I truly didn't mean-"

Dieter lets out a soft chuckle when you cover your mouth in embarrassment, clearly enjoying this.

"An exhibition kink? That's interesting. I've never been asked that before..."

His hand gently grabs your wrist, slowly moving it away from your mouth.

"Oh, don't cover your mouth. I like the things you say, although some are dumb"

"Wow, you're still hellbent on calling me dumb. I thought we were friends" you breath relieved at the way he took your stupid move, playfully nudging his side, feeling plush skin under his clothes. Fuck. You better leave before you dig this hole deeper. "So, do you or not? Answer the question. The joke may have backfired but my curiosity is still there"

"Dumb, stupid, idiot... you choose. I'm still going to call you that, doll. Can't let you off that easily" Dieter chuckles before answering your question, because of your boldness and the reappearing dark shade over your face. "Alright, I'll answer your question. Are you sure you want to know, though? You have a wild imagination"

"How do you know?" you fake gasp. "Have you read my works?"

It came out in the moment, not something you're used to saying out loud, especially when you're simply an assistant, because honestly, it's embarrassing.

Dieter gives you a small smirk when you fake gasp at his statement. He then continues to look down at you.

"I've heard some things. That some of the scenes you've written are a bit... steamy. If you know what I mean"

There is that same treacherous blush again. How could you get out of this?

"No I don't" and a tricky smile adorns your features, "enlighten me"

Great. The best way out seems to be going down.

"Is that right? You don't know what I mean? Well, you're the hand behind these love scenes, aren't you?"

The small input in this movie, by yours truly. When he received the script, he recoiled at how bad it was, almost calling his agent to call quits on the project. But then he had read the first of many scenes involving a certain type of action, and he decided to stay. Now that he stands before you, knowing it's you who's written them, he finds the discovery amusing and worth entertaining, no matter if he was initially pissed at the fact you were also part of the reasons why he wanted to quit.

A cocky smile appears on the actor's face when you get closer: he likes how, despite the embarrasing events you still find it in you to stand before him, spark behind your eyes full of mischief. It all starts to make sense, he thinks with amusement.

"Love scenes?" you taunt. "You mean the ones were they break furniture and blow off steam with the nasties sounds ever heard to human kind? Nope, doesn't sound like it; no idea what you're talking about" Then you pause, to keep suspense. You lick your lips, making sure to hold his gaze. "Unless..."

Dieter snickers when you describe the scenes; filming hadn't yet get there but he is eager. The actor's gaze is fixed on you as he lets out a low hum.

"Unless what? You can't just pause there, now that got me intrigued"

This isn't real, because he genuinely seems interested in what you'll say next.

"Unless you want to recreate them before filming, since you know, you're so damn interested. Sweeping your big nose in business you shouldn't" you called his nose big not as an offense but rather a compliment: it's literally the prettiest you've ever seen. Hell, it's not only endearment you feel towards it; you've literally wrote a scene where the female lead grinds off it, all while thinking of him. You really hope he's lying about reading your stuff. "Metiche"

Dieter lets out a surprised laugh at your comment about his nose, positive in his mind. He found it amusing that you called it big, which usually would be negative to some, but he didn't really mind. It's also funny in a way, and he finds to be enjoying this more than he should, long forgotten his complains or the movie he's supposed to be shooting as of now.

"Metiche, huh? You have quite the mouth on you"

"Do I?" are you confident, bold or stupid? "You haven't even seen anything yet, Mr. Bravo"

Dieter lets out another chuckle at your confidence. He's definitely entertained by your responses. He tilts his head while giving you a curious expression.

"Is that so? You have something more you'd like to share, doll? I'm open to see whatever you have if I haven't seen it already"

"Or read" I joke, "like I seriously need to check my friends to see who would sell me out. Did you truly read my stuff or you're just fucking with me?"

Dieter lets out another chuckle, finding your joke funny. He then gets a more serious, but still amused, expression on his face.

"I'm not messing with you, I did read some of them, including the ones on this movie. I didn't lie about that, I promise" he pauses for a brief moment, letting out an amused hum. "Y no te preocupes, linda. No estoy jugando contigo"

"If you didn't lie then I suppose you'd know who I had in mind when I wrote that scene of a guy eating a girl's pussy while she sits in his face, grinding on it. I'll give you a clue" you tiptoe, until the hot of your breathe clashes against the cold of his ear's skin, "he's got a big nose"

Dieter lets out a low hum when you drop the clue. "A big nose huh? Sounds familiar"

"It does?" you ask on an overly saccharine tone, fingers carressing the bridge of his nose, softly.

How did we get here?

He leans in a bit to get closer, clearly into your little taunts.

"Yeah, it does. And you just confirmed it too, no need to try to hide it now"

"Woah, don't let the ego win over, Mr. Bravo. A lot of people got big nose, you included" you smirk, removing your fingers from his face, and he would never admit out loud he instantly misses the warmth of your touch. "It's just coincidental you got the part and matched the character's description. You know what they say: all events depicted in this movie are fictitious. Any similarity to any person living or dead is merely coincidental" you recite.

He laughs, shyly. "I know a lot of people have big noses, but I do wonder why you chose that trait in particular"

"I wonder too" then your tone drops low, "We should try, you know, to see if it's viable before we get to filming that part... call it exploratory research"

He feels your fingers touching again his nose.

"Exploratory research, you say?" Dieter lets out a soft chuckle. "How about you be a doll and show me some of that research. I'll gladly be the test subject"

You get flustered. This went too far. Why aren't you running away, or banging your head against a wall for some common sense? This is getting ridiculous, but so is the wet spot between your legs.

"Um, I- wow, I- do you really...? No way" you become a rambling mess again, trying to steady yourself, "You want to eat my pussy?"

The words come out brash, making you cringe.

"Is that what you're saying, Mr. Bravo? You can still turn around and pretend you don't know me. Muero de pena"

Hee tilts his head to the side, looking at you with an almost wolf-like look in his eyes. He takes a step closer, so more of his body is against your own, his face closer to yours.

"Don't do that. You don't have to be embarassed, doll" his finger plays with your lower lip. "I'm saying exactly that"

"Please" voice so small it feels like you'll break, "do it"

The actor lets out a hum in response to your small voice.

"Right here...?"

"No!" you jump horrified, getting out of the horny haze for a bit. "Oh, God. Do you want to be blacklisted, Dieter?" squeaky, lowering your gaze to avoid his, resorting to playing with your fingers. "You have a room, right? They gave you one.... just for you, right?"

He nods his head in response.

"Perks of being the lead actor" he beams a bit proud with full-blown ego in display. "I have my own trailer, and it's not that far away"

"It's okay, I like walking anyways" you reply. "As a matter of fact, I like a lot of things"

The actor lets out another soft laugh in response.

"You're cheeky, you know that, baby?"

He starts to lead you towards his trailer, putting his arm around your waist. It feels big and warm, his touch making a current shoot down until it looses in between your legs. If this is what fighting and low paid terrible jobs got you, you'd do it more often.

"Cheeky? Cute? Do you want to kill me?" I laugh as we almost make it there. "Turns out, I kinda like that"

Now, where you testing your luck by keeping on running your mouth? You need to shut it up forever.

The actor chuckles when you ask if he wants to kill you, stopping in his tracks when you mention that you kind of like that. He looks down at you with a soft, yet cocky smile, but his arm still lingers around your waist.

"I've never heard a woman say that before, doll. I'm starting to believe you have some weird things you're into"

I'm a porn writer, but now you stop before saying more shit. His comment makes you flustered, getting shy all of the sudden as if you hadn't just half-admitted part of your kinks.

Whatever, what's out in the open air can't be unsaid. And Dieter seems to be just as into this as you, finally someone to match your freak after all those men whose cowardice made them leave before the fun started. I'm a porn writer, what'd you expect? It would be fun if I was into vainilla stuff.

"Weird things?" you pretend to be offended, "what do you have in mind?"

"Me? You want me to think? My head is still hurting from yesterday's hangover" he jokes, "why don't you be a doll and tell me exactly what you want?"

You smirk devilishly and he's taken back by the change of your demeanor. You were truly a little wolf disguised as a sheep.

"What I want is for you to press your weight onto me as you fuck me raw" you get red as you spill the lewd thoughts out loud, but it's what you write so it's not new. Your eyes dart to the curve of his soft belly, tight against his shirt. You look away, even redder if possible. "For the research, of course! All with purpose, to uh- See if I don't suffocate- the character, I mean!"

Your dirty words darken his brown kit-kat eyes, clearly enjoying the way you talk to him.

"Of course, for the research. Got to make sure the scene is accurate, right?"

He lets out a small hum and moves his hand on your waist, until they dig in your hips.

"Yeah, because we're professionals. Is this your trailer?" you ask, trying to deviate the conversation because your face keeps getting hotter. "This is your last chance to turn your back before this gets weirder. Hell, I might even leave the country"

The actor smiles at your comment about being professionals, finding it amusing.

"It's my trailer, doll. And I'm not turning my back after how this conversation is going. If I wanted, I would've already left. You'd have to try to get rid of me yourself"

Dieter then grabs his door handle and turns it, opening the door to his trailer. Your heart beats faster than humanely possible.

"Please don't look at me like that"

Dieter lets out a soft hum and looks down at you with a cheeky smile.

"Why not? I like to look at you"

He leads you inside the trailer. Once you're both inside, he shuts the door behind him. With lock. Hearing the click makes your heart skip a beat.

"Don't look at me like you'd do all the stupid things I've said"

The actor is clearly amused by your words.

"What makes you think I wouldn't?"

He licks his lips with anticipation, bracing himself for what's to come.

"I think you're smart. That you know what's best for you" your fingers go to his curls, and you can feel him shiver at the touch. His hungry expression goes soft for a brief moment, and you think you like that too.

"Mmm... your hands feel nice..."

You smile like the Cheshire cat. "And they feel even better when you put them to good use"

The actor lets out a low chuckle in response to your words and looks down at you with a cocky smile.

"Is that a hint, darling?"

"A hint?" you snort. "That's a whole ass answer in red, bold and capital letters"

The man lets out a loud laugh at your response.

"Damn, you're feisty with that attitude, aren't you, doll?"

"Am I?" your eyes darken, body walking in automatic, closing the distance. His soft body irradiates warmth, the section between his pants feeling hard. "Will you punish me for that?"

The actor lets out a soft hum when he feels your body against his own. Dieter's face slowly gets more lustful.

"Mmm, depends on how bad you are, doll. I could punish you if you misbehave"

"What would you count as misbeheaving, Mr. Bravo? I just want to be a good girl" you whisper, batting eyelashes.

The man smirks at your comment and the way you bat your eyelashes teasingly.

"You'll see. You wouldn't want me to spoil the surprise, doll. Being a good girl will get you a nice reward, though"

"Like" you caress his nose, "helping me on the research part?"

Dieter enjoys your teasing touch on his nose and smirks at your comment.

"Mmm, just like the research part, doll"

"Would you show me?" you ask out in a tone so sweet, he's about to come right there. He didn't think it was possible, even. So he lets out a cocky laugh as he says, tone dropping too:

"Maybe I should if you're so persistent in not believing me"

You roll you eyes. "You really think I'm that easy to convince?"

"That's not a no" Dieter smirks.

You scoff. "It's also not a yes"

His tricky ringed fingers trace until it gets in the middle of your legs, feeling your dripping arousal. He then removes the finger and licks it with his long tongue, the scene as obscene as it is but never removing his gaze from yours.

"You sure? Your words might say one thing, but your body says something else"

You get defensive, despite him cornering your frame against one of the trailers walls.

"What would you know about my body?"

Even if his eyes bear irritation, he lets out an entertained laugh.

"I see you like playing these games. Pissing me off until I shut you up myself"

"I don't care" your tongue drips in snark, and he's equally pissed and turned on.

"You're a bad liar, doll. Can't act even if your life depended on it"

You scoff, as you muster the most annoyed tone you can. "Yeah?"

"I ain't met you that long, but I can tell how your body needs me" his voice sends shivers down your spine. "Still think I'm dumb? That I can't see the way you look at me, lips almost drooling, body shaking, pleading me to touch it?" all words you could say die in your throat. "What's that? Cat got your tongue? I see you're busier getting wet"

"I-I don't know what you're talking about" but there's no confidence in your voice anymore, giving away how turned on you were. Your mind goes numb at the dangerous game you're playing, coming only to your senses when his hard cock grinds against your soaked panties.

"I think you do" Dieter bites his lip, giving your core another hard rub. "I know you'd love to feel my cock around your pretty soaked pussy. Hell, you've been begging for it"

Your mind may be backtracking, but your body definitely wasn't.

"C'mon. Stop playing hard to get, doll" Dieter chuckles, "I know you want this"

He doesn't get a word out of you, but the patch against his jeans growing wetter is enough.

"Answer me" a little moan leaves your lips as he presses himself closer, his lips devouring yours in a rough fashion. "You better talk when I tell you to. Thought you'd behave" his hand easily pulls up your knitted sweater, revealing no bra. "Damn brat. Of course you wanted this: wearin' nothing to the set and writing those scenes getting off to me like some fuckin' creep" you moan at the humiliating words coming out of his filthy mouth as he touches the rosy skin gently before giving your hardened nipple a lick and then a little bite just to hear you whine.

Dieter then grabs you by your thighs, placing you down on top of what appears to be a small kitchen's counter, his growing bulge pressed against your cunt: the hard, the cold meeting hot... it all has you incredibly turned on. You feel the cool of the rings on his hand as it starts to eagerly wander under your skirt, rubbing his middle finger in between your clothed folds.

"That's right, I wore this to have you" you moan against his lips as his fingers find your clit, making slow but steady circles, "because yes, I wrote those scenes thinking of you"

"What a bad bad girl" Dieter chuckles darkly, "wanna hear you take your well deserved punishment. And don't worry, we're far away so you can scream my name as loud as you need to, doll"

He wastes no time in giving you such, pulling down the hem of your panties until they fall down to the trailer's floor. Before him, the best sight ever revealed to men: your sticky mess of a pussy. Dieter grabs onto your thighs, spreading them slowly as he leaves a trail of kisses on the inside, his beard and fluffy hair creating tickles. He then licks the folds of your moisty entrance. When you move, you hear him tut. "Be a good girl, yeah? Stay still" and now his hands hold your thighs, keeping them in place as the rings fig in your skin. His tongue hits your sensitive folds just right, making a series of sounds leave your lips. So addicting, he thinks.

"I-I'll be a good girl" you whine, "just please. Don't stop"

Your toes curl and you begin to see stars. You're surprised he's quite compliant, adding extra pressure with his tongue, slurping on your juices with a sound so obscene, even your dirty horny mind hadn't been capable of picturing. But here he was, Dieter fucking Bravo: the reason you started writing steamy scenes and agreed to do them for this project he was starring in, him always in your mind, now eating your pussy like a starved man inside the walls of his trailer.

Your mind turns into goo and your body into a sensitive mess. Your legs start to shake, clench up and tremble, leaving you a moaning mess. You weren't going to pull away, and Dieter seemed to like that feisty side of yours, yet his hold didn't loose a bit. His index and middle finger leave your red clit and slide into your soaked nub, his thumb now doing the work on it.

"That's right, baby. Tell Dieter how much you love his fingers inside of you, you cock hungry slut"

You come all over his hand, legs tensing up as you tug his messy curls into your now tight-white fists.

"I said talk" he now grabs your hair, pulling your face closer. "Gonna be ungrateful, when I just gave you the best orgasm of your life? Say it, brat"

"Thank you, Mr. Bravo" you pant out, still recovering from the high.

That makes it two discoveries as of now:

You weren't wrong when you wrote those scenes picturing him

Dieter lived up to his reputation, because that is indeed, the best orgasm of your life

You won't stroke his ego, though. And he doesn't need it either, as he's calling you good girl while leaving love bites all over your neck. "Mine" he hisses, and you let yourself believe it for a while.

"We done, sweetheart?" you shake your head. "That's right, research has just began. Bet you want my rock hard dick inside of you now"

You whine, and he leans closer. "Why do I even ask? Gonna give you my cock for you to take like the little whore you are"

You slid your hand into his pair of briefs, giving his cock a few strokes.

"See? such a hungry girl" he seethes. "Who gave you permission, you fucking brat?"

A sting spreads across your bare clit, making you moan. That's not what you had in mind, but it's embarrassing how turned on it's making you. Well, you have some certainly interesting ideas for what to write next.

"Answer me" his tone is demanding, his large palm delivering another harsh slap to your cunt.

"N-no one"

"How do we say, then? Be a good girl and show me your manners"

"P-please!" you mewl, soon feeling his tongue soothing the pain.

"So you do know how to be a good girl" Dieter praises, pressing a light kiss to your puffy folds. "Now, where were we?"

He frees his pulsating member from the confines of the underwear, revealing his throbbing cock, ready to rub it against your folds. A little whine left your lips as he kept rocking his hips back and forth.

"Talking back to me before, where is that girl gone? All I see is a hungry slut, ready to take my cock like the little good girl she is"

Dieter pushes his tip further enough to be at the entrance of your burning hole, and you whine in frustration and need, that attitude he teases you with, long gone. All you want is him to fuck you.

"That's right, beg like the fucking whore you are"

"Just fill me up with your thick cum and fuck me until I won't be able to stand up"

"Dangerous game you playin', doll" but his expression is all hunger and no warning.

"Just fuck me" you spit. "I'm yours. Use me"

That seems to do the trick.

"Good girl" and Dieter fully pushes himself inside of you, he abuses your clit, entering him fully inside of you over and over again, not even giving you time to adjust to his girth; surprinsgly (or not), you liked it rough. His wet kisses become sloppier and rushed, landing on your lips, corners of your mouth, jaw and neck. A string of drool is on his as he pulls them out, rather prefering to hear the sounds you drowned against his lips on full volume. His hands grab you by your hips while his buck back a forth in a rough pace. Surpringsly, Dieter remembers his promise, your body caged by his bigger frame as he fucks you on the counter, feeling the swell of his belly against your lower abdomen. He pushes hard, his heavier weight making your back start to ache against the cold metal, the wall behind you digging painfully on your skin. But doesn't it feel so good?

"So fucking good" he groans, his forehead pressed against yours, breath coming in short, sharp gasps as he stares intensely into your eyes, "so tight"

You grab onto his back as he stretches you out, his pace speeding up. You moan against his ear as your nails dig further into his back with every thrust, saying his name. You come closer to your orgasm as he hits the right spot over and over again.

"Fuck... the way you beg for it, like a needy little slut. It's so fucking hot" Dieter wraps his hand around your throat, his thumb pressing lightly against your pulse point. "I'm going to ruin you, doll. Gonna fuck you so hard that you'll forget your own fucking name" his voice is a low, guttural growl, filled with a raw, animalistic desire. "All you'll know is the feeling of my cock splitting you open, claiming you"

His words and movements edge you close, sweat dripping and clinging uncomfortably to your skin due to the reduced space.

"I-I'm close again"

"But you better come with me, spoiled little girl. Ain't doin' it alone after all I've done for you" he groans, his thrusts becoming more and more aggressive.

Your walls clench against his soaked dick, his pace suddenly slowing as his cum fills your hole, coating your walls.

"F-fuck"

You try to even your breaths as he rests his head on your shoulder, bodies pressed together.

"So, was I of help?"

You chuckle at his attempt for small talk.

"You di good, Dieter. Mission accomplished"

"Right" he sounds a bit dissapointed, making the corners of your lips raise. "Well, If you ever need a helping hand" he wiggles his brows, "you know were to find me"

"I do" you press a brief kiss to his lips. "As a matter of fact, you can also tell me when you need my helping hand" said hand travels down, feeling his dick hard again. The sight alone makes you drool. "What'd you say, cowboy? Up for analyzing the collected data? We didn't even try with your nose"

"I knew it was mine!"

[kookinglikeachef]

Can you write a reaction for when x reader is horny either ateez or the boyz, it doesn’t matter

Hongjoong:

His patience would be very thin with you. He’s having an off day and demands his space. The problem with giving Hongjoong his space when he’s mad, it turned you on. Not just him still managing to look cute when he’d get angry. It was his tone. Very stern, very cold.

You would prance around him when you knew that you shouldn’t and beg him to touch you and love you.

“Y/N,” he’ll warn with glaring eyes.

He’ll never give you the satisfaction, but you keep trying in hopes that one day Hongjoong would wreak havoc on your body.

Seonghwa:

When I tell you Seonghwa would be a slut for you? FUCKING BELIEVE ME. He will do anything you ask him to do to you. Loves when you’re lounging around in literally no other clothing but one of his tanks, braless. He’s obsessed with your tits. You don’t really have to do much to get his attention but occasionally stretching so that your shirt rides up a bit, just barely covering your cunt between your thighs, he’s putty in your hands.

“Allow me to please you, baby.”

Yunho:

At first he’d pay no mind to you the second you start rubbing against him in a way you thought was subtle, while cuddling. His chin resting on your shoulder, the warmth of his breath is on your neck. You can feel all of him. Bulge pressed between your ass cheeks. And every breath he takes, it presses more into you, caged within his arms. He’ll hug you tighter if your movements persist, just lays there and allows you to grind harder like a bitch in heat.

“Yuyu, please. Why aren’t you doing anything?” You’d whine.

“Just wanted to see if you’d beg me.” He’d murmur and smirk against your ear.

Yeosang:

He’s shocked! This is shocking news!

Something as simple as watching him practice his dances makes your mind run wild and the sweat droplets that slid down his chest did nothing to calm your feral thoughts. Those body rolls? He doesn’t realize the damage he’s causing to you and your poor panties that are probably soaked in arousal. Your legs squeezing together around nothing.

He moves a little slow at taking hints that you’re horny so you have to suck it up and shamelessly tell him.

San:

Not much to be written here. You don’t have to tell him anything. Why? Because he’s always horny, too. 7 days in a week and y’all are fucking for 10. He’ll even pick his favorite Juno positions.

“Have we ever tried this one?”

Mingi:

Mingi always has his hand on your thigh, stroking his fingers against your skin and grabbing your flesh. It’s just something he does for comfort and to know that you’re still there. But you wanted nothing more than to take his hand and shove it in between your thighs where you yearned for him the most.

This leads him to ask you what’s wrong when he notices you just staring where his hand rests. When you tell him, he would reply with the sweetest/most lewd thing you’ve ever heard.

Wooyoung:

He finds it hot and teases you about being horny because he knows how needy you can get. And like I’ve said before, he’ll take his time. Takes his time to give in and give you what you want. Woo also loves to do shit to get you worked up even more.

Taunts you until you’re in a pitiful state. He’d take your hand and place it on his crotch, moving it in circular motion.

“I bet you can’t fit all of me in your mouth. How bad do you wanna find out?”

Jongho:

Jongho’s more surprised than anything. He wanted to kiss you out of the blue because he felt like it, but he didn’t expect you to prolong it the way that you did. Deepening the kiss, opting to straddle him, or the unsteady grinding of your hips. He finds you very cute and amusing.

“What’s gotten into you?” He’ll chuckle, encircling his arms around your waist.

“Just want you.” You’d whimper as his hands slide down from your waist to firmly gripping your butt.

[ffviirarepairweek]

FFVII Rare Pair Week 2025

So what’s your favourite Final Fantasy VII related rare pair? Do you have more than one? Here’s a chance to showcase them and help them move up from being rare! Not all parts of the pairing have to be from FFVII, and you don’t have to do the same pairing or group for the whole week! ** Pairings can be romantic or platonic. **

Below we have a list of prompts for this year. Feel free to be as creative with those as you want to, and take your time working on your entries, but please don’t forget to post them on the right date if you can. (But remember, no matter how late it’s better than never!)

For this event we are using a category approach. You can use the category as a theme for your prompt and the listed items suggested ideas. If none of the prompts give you any ideas, don’t worry! You can create anything you like for the week, provided it involves a rare pair! The goal of the week is to celebrate and share our rare pairs more than to just follow a list. Be it art, writing, mood boards, or even fic recs, just spread the love!

Feb. 16 | Day 1. Extreme Weather/Natural Disaster. How does your pairing deal with an extreme weather event? If you’re the type to lean toward happy stories, this could be a run of good weather days. If you like your angst, well, this year has already given us some examples of what happens when nature goes wild.

Feb. 17 | Day 2. Sick Day/Medical. Is one of your pairing sick or injured? Or if you don’t like dealing directly with sickness, do they need to cover for a co-worker who has called out sick?

Feb. 18 | Day 3. Crossover. Mix it up with another game, or movie, or book, etc. Mix in your other favourite media, whether the setting, or another character for your pair to meet, or another plot they’re stuck sorting out.

Feb. 19 | Day 4. Events. There’s an event in the calendar. Is it a big to-do? A private date night? Are they celebrating something, or is it a memorial date? What has warranted being marked on their calendar? And what are they going to do about it?

Feb. 20 | Day 5. Free Day/Combo Day. Combo space to mix and match prompts from this year (or a previous year’s list) or go wherever your canoe takes you!

Feb. 21 | Day 6. Pets/Children. How does your pairing feel about pets and/or children? Do they have any? Do they want to? Are they the cool aunts who just want to return them at the end of the day after much sugar or the house with all the cats? Is it a point of contention in their relationship?

Feb. 22 | Day 7. Arts. Music, visual arts, dance. Art can be expressed and appreciated in so many forms. How does your pairing participate in art? Do they have an artistic hobby? Do they share in that hobby, or is one more “talented’? Do they try to get the other(s) involved? (Imagining the pottery moment in Ghost.) Do they have contrasting skills and collaborate? Are they competitive? Do they involve pets/children (if any)?

Need more inspiration? Our past prompt lists can be found below, and you’re welcome to use any of them!

2024 List: https://www.tumblr.com/ffviirarepairweek/740152122290618368/ffvii-rare-pair-week-2024 (has link to all previous year lists - sorry tumblr keeps fighting me about links and saying they’re not real links)

Please remember to include the week’s tag (ffviirarepairweek). You can mention the blog to send an alert about your post to the mod as well. We will NOT accept/reblog anything containing Character/Ship Hate, so avoid including those in your entries. Also don’t repost anyone else’s work as your own! You are welcome to reblog other’s posts, but credit where credit is due.

You can submit your works on AO3 to the event collection at https://archiveofourown.org/collections/FFVIIrarepairweek

And if you have any questions, don’t be afraid of sending in an ask.

We hope it turns out to be a fun event for everyone!

[on-a-lucky-tide]

Just out of curiosity, how many WIPs are you working with right now? And what makes you abandon one? Do you write when the 'inspiration' hits or do you see it as a task to be done? It gets too much for me sometimes, I'm quick to abandon them.

You are such an inspiration though, keep sharing your brilliant mind!!

Not including the Witcher, which I now consider on "hiatus" with the potential of going back when/if the Witcher 4 and new book heal something in me - twenty-five. I have a bunch of prompts with semis (lol) where I have an idea but I haven't started it yet.

I write when inspiration hits and to relax. My job drifts between a 55 and 75 hour week, so I have my fill of tasks to be done. I will never really abandon anything, I'll keep it because sometimes I can repurpose a part of it for another project (like yanking out spare parts from a car for your current one). I'd really recommend doing the same, Non.

The only way I'll abandon something is if I am harassed on it, or the fandom does something that gives me the ick. I have one (1) officially abandoned piece of work on AO3 and it's on Anonymous.

And because you've been so bloody lovely, here's another for Red Leaf 🍁 Anon who asked for a Part 2 (official) of hair pulling Nikpriceghost (rough, unedited).

Simon drew in a shuddering breath and rich cigar smoke flooded his tongue, the warm familiarity of it settling his heart, the calm rolling through his muscles as he closed his eyes. Nik smoked Cohiba. Smooth, rich. Simon couldn't dissect the flavour profile, his palette blunted by cheap roll ups and scorching cups of tea, but he could pick out the familiar notes of coffee beans, cocoa and leather, with just a hint of sweetness at the back of his tongue, as curls of wispy grey drifted by his face. Price said Cohibas were a smooth smoke, with a nice draw. All Simon knew was that he only ever smoked them when Nik was over, and so Simon had come to associate that smell with the roiling desire in his gut as he watched Nik's hands circle a scotch glass.

What had started out as a mild fascination since Nik's fingers had slid into his hair was now an all out infatuation. The series of events that had led to this moment were a cacophony of noise and images fading slowly into the back of his mind. All that mattered was the now. The smell of expensive cigars, the slow, calm breaths of the man before him and the other somewhere in the shadows of his peripheral, and the feel of strong fingers stroking up and down his neck, urging his face close to the warmth of the solid body in front of it. 

Simon knelt at Nik's feet. They had taken his shirt and his pale nipples had peaked in the air conditioning. He could feel it prickle over the hairs on his arms, over the sensitive, bare skin of his face, so unused to being without his balaclava even at the height of summer. And yet, despite being so exposed, Simon felt utterly grounded. Safe. Nik wore a blindfold, unable to see the vacant, soft look on Simon's face as he gazed up at him, the slow way Simon blinked as he focused on Nik's fingers stroking his hairline, tracing the groove at the centre of his neck and the top vertebrae of his spine. 

Simon was desperate for Nik's touch, to feel his hands and body against every inch of his own. He ached, like he would crack open if Nik took his hands away. But showing his face had felt like a step too far in these early days when the connection was still new, untested; his desire like a raw nerve. Nik hadn't even questioned the insanity of Simon being more comfortable showing his dick than his damn face, standing calmly as Price had tied the blindfold behind his head. Simon had worried that it would diminish Nik in some way, make him uncertain, but the big Russian hadn't even broken his bloody stride. He oozed control in the same way he breathed oxygen; natural, unthinking, effortless.

[underneathitalldeepdives]

Gwen's Lyrics: Late To Bloom & Sooner

A few weeks ago, Gwen's unreleased song "Sooner" was posted on YouTube for the first time. The song, written by Gwen, Shane McAnally, Busbee, and Amy Wadge, was added to BMI in 2019 and seemingly came out of sessions Gwen had with those writers in the spring of 2019. (Another song written during this time called "You Kissed Me Back To Life" was spotted on BMI the same day as "Sooner." We still have not heard that one.) 

Fans at the time immediately guessed what "Sooner" might be about - Gwen's wish that she had met Blake earlier in life. Gwen posted what would turn out to be a line from the chorus under a throwback photo of Blake in September 2019:

This was about a month after the song title was discovered on BMI by fans, but time passed and nothing ever came of it.

As we know, Gwen eventually released a new studio album, "Bouquet," which did not include "Sooner" but included another song with an extremely similar theme - "Late To Bloom."

Here are the lyrics to "Sooner" and "Late To Bloom" side by side:

When comparing the songs, the thing that sticks out to me is that "Sooner" seems a little more personal and raw. It has a sad tune, includes striking references to Blake's previous marriage and his late father, and is more reflecting on the time that was lost. It's interesting her honesty about wishing he wouldn't have loved anyone else before her.

If she'd released this song, the line about "all the years you had to fake it" would have definitely gotten people talking. My opinion of this line is that it means that Blake and Miranda, same as Gwen and Gavin, had a lot of ups and downs, but as a public couple they always had to put on the best face for people and not let anyone see the cracks that were there. They had to pretend things were great even when they weren't (which is why their divorce came as quite a shock to the public).

"She didn't even know she wasted you" seems like a sister line to "And only a stupid girl would let you go" in "Rare" — Gwen likely believes Miranda took him for granted and didn't appreciate him the way that she does. But she is envious of the time that Miranda got with him before they met, time that she believes was wasted with the wrong people who just hurt them.

In contrast, "Late To Bloom" has a peppy tune and is more optimistic. It has more generalized lyrics that don't reference anything too deep, but still has a personal touch, talking about them riding in Blake's truck and picking flowers. The lyrics show that she is enjoying the present and looking toward the future, rather than dwelling on the past with so much melancholy.

It's possible the difference in tone between the two songs is due to the fact that "Sooner" was written when Gwen and Blake had only been dating a little over 3 years (and thus were only 3.5 years past their divorces), while "Late To Bloom" was written when they'd been together more than 7 years and were now married. It could be that the more time Gwen has gotten with Blake, the less it stings that they met so late because they have continually filled their years together with valuable shared experiences.

Shane McAnally would say that working with Gwen during those spring 2019 sessions (which included writing "Sooner") and hearing about her relationship with Blake helped inspire him while writing "Nobody But You."

“I had worked with Gwen Stefani, just a few days before I went in to write this song,” McAnally said. “When I heard the melody, it made me think of Blake, and it sounded like a love song. I just said, ‘We should kind of write this with them in mind.’”

“One of the main things we talked about was her and Blake, and she just was telling me how happy they were and how glad they were they found each other at this part of their life and they're just truly in love,” he says.

I notice in the lyrics of "Nobody But You," there is again the similar theme to "Sooner" about wasted time:

"All the wasted days, all the wasted nights/I blame it all on being young/Got no regrets, 'cause they got me here/But I don't wanna waste another one"

The longing to have found each other earlier is also expressed in Blake's 2021 wedding song, "We Can Reach the Stars," in the line - "We always said we wished we'd met long before we finally did."

Gwen again touches on this theme in a line of "Empty Vase" - "Why, why did it take so much time? You've always been the one I've been trying to find"

It's obvious that this thought has loomed large in Gwen's head over the years, how different things might be if she had been able to meet Blake earlier in life.

I wish she had released "Sooner" because it is a very honest and touching song, but listening to it actually made me feel a little depressed, too. It's just rather sad! I'm grateful there is a more cheerful and hopeful iteration in "Late To Bloom," showing a sunnier view of the theme of meeting your great love later in life.

[looks-at-you]

Ltv bad boys stuff yayy

yk the drill. if youve got no clue what im on about go look at my ramblings

they dont have a playlist yet but fear not! they will soon! and when they do ill update this!

so. the bad boys. my beloved

they have theyre shitty emo garage band right? i think they came up with the idea the first summer they came to town so they could look "cool and mysterious" (joels words)

they all collect patches for their jackets based off of things that happen to them

i already said this but i want it to be here also. grians the lead singer and writes most of the songs. jimmy is on guitar and does backup vocals. and joels on drums

specifics of all of them. yea <3

Joel

hes peak middle child to me. idk what that means yet but thats the vibe

hes also a majorrrrr control freak. to me <3 none of the bad boys are interacting with scott if he can help it

he has a really funny one sided beef with scott?? every1s pretty sure he just decided he hated him one day because he needed a rival to be "cool n interesting" scotts just really confused

hes got a wonderful gf back home (lizzie) who jimmy and grian constantly try to convince everyone isnt real

OBSESSED with seeming cool and likeable. its a little concerning but i think thats the middle child experience ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ (but what do i know. im an oldest [can a middle child come peer review my joel pretty please/hj])

worlds most cocky. overdramatic pretty princess ever. i love him

Jimmy

total hopeless romantic. every summer he comes back like. thisll be the summer i find my One True Love™️ 😍😍😍

he tries so hard to be the worlds most Teen Summer Romance Movie Protag but gives up after a week (me much⁉️ cough. cough.)

really big into journaling. with the like. stickers and doodles and pictures and stuff?? yk the cool journaling i wish i could commit too. like scrapbooking kinda

hes the kind of guy to stand in the corner by the snacks during the entire party and still get bitches. somehow

Grian

was never really into the whole edgey emo band thing but he plays along for his brothers

^ its why his sunglasses usually are up on his head instead of on his face. its cuz he hates wearing sunglasses lmao

he was really big into climbing things when he was younger. mans would do anything to get up high. trees. buildings. telephone polls. if theres a will theres a way for him to get up there

[darabeatha]

@ardenssolis said ; Watches Camazotz from a distance, cheek on open palm. Look at him just looking so sullen and unapproachable. How endearing. / 𝐔𝐍𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐃.

CLACK. CLACK. While Ozymandias has his own..... peculiar way of entertaining himself, so did Camazotz as well. Old habits die hard as they say, and even despite the magnitude of different forms of entertainment that were available in Chaldea, he still managed to find himself rummaging through an assortment of skulls once again. Skulls that belonged to no other than him and that countless of times he's been too stubborn to spare them to their poor master who often lacked materials. Now what did he do with these skulls? crush them. As simple as that. A trait not at all related to bats but of a bored god passing time in the underworld. What was the amusing part of this? was there some sort of hidden significance to such a peculiar habit? none of it. He merely enjoyed the cracking sound skulls made when he crushed them with his claws, just like how any other person might find snacks such as potato chips to be enticing because of their crunchy structure, so did he; albeit in his case, he, of course, did not eat these bones; it was merely the sound that entertained him, and as something far easier to acquire than purchasing clay vases, that was one of the ways in which the lord of the house of the bats passed his time.

Back to the scenario in itself―; he truly did look like a fish out of water. How he sat in a corner by himself, surrounded by the blinding lights and white chalk-colored walls of Chaldea that contrasted so heavily with an individual who lounged in the dark and who was used to such environments. He was not someone who entirely rejected the idea of light, he knew it was necessary, yet this much.... It was unnerving, and if one was paying as much attention as Ozymandias was to Camazotz at that moment, they would be able to figure out how unnerved he seemed. Irritated, annoyed, uncomfortable, itchy if one could say. He didn't like this place, not at all, and it was evident in the way he did not occupy as much space as he naturally would were they to be in a place more fitting to his liking; so there he was, sulking in a corner and crushing skulls, this time with so much dedication that dust started gathering on the ground beneath him.

And to add to how annoying the whole environment was, there was him. Of course, there was him. It was daytime, why would the sun not be up? And he noticed it, perhaps also why he was feeling so itchy as well- did he not have anything better to do than to stare at him? Even he didn't need to have eyes on the back of his own skull to be able to feel the pharaoh staring at him.

He rolls his eyes and huffs, muttering something that could not be heard from the distance that separated them while slightly turning to his own side even more, almost as if stubbornly wanting to make the other have a much more difficult time in observing what he was doing. Whatever it was that Ozymandias wanted of him, he was not going to have it. Simply because Camazotz wanted it to be that way, and that was the way of Camazotz, to make things work for him.

[icewindandboringhorror]

Apparently I can meet my goal of roughly 400,000 words in 6 months if I just somehow write at least 2,200 words a day ghbjh... Almost 2,500 today... huzzah...

[ghostlycod]

“I have this scene in my head for my fic that I really love but i don’t feel like writing all of the other stuff to get to it.”

I see this comment like 5 times a day in fic writing spaces lol

a scene that you don’t want to write is a scene you don’t want to read. don’t write stuff you don’t want to read.

me, personally: wait until the scenes that get you to that first initial scene you were excited about are just as interesting as that scene too. it won’t be the first, second, or third thing you think of. if u have a scene you really want to write, write that, and keep writing only those exciting scenes that come to you. eventually you have a million interesting scenes for your fic and they become puzzle pieces for you to arrange and then eventually the strings come together and you realize you really do have an interesting way to get to that original scene, and you’re just as excited to write it, if you haven’t already written it when you were brainstorming other scenes earlier in the writing process that you didn’t even realize could carry your story like that.

[afniel]

Maaaaaaaaaaaan, come on.

(the post has ended up in the tags btw. I am not changing this and I need you to understand that it is just me talking to myself semi-publicly)

[theflyingfeeling]

fic talk in the tags 💝