#So just because he didn’t actually do it or do it again then it’s not problematic?
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wibben · 2 days ago
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Photogenic
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Nanami does not like his picture taken.
It’s a shame, really, because he’s painfully and effortlessly photogenic. Even the begrudging shots – the ones taken mid-grimace or right as that frown of his settles in – turn out looking unfairly good.
You’d seen it firsthand. There was that one birthday dinner at Shoko’s, where she’d caught him mid-toast, glass raised and mouth sloping into a small, tolerant smile as she snapped a quick shot of the table. The photo looked like something out of a magazine ad, his cheeks warmed from the sake, his eyes a little brighter. But when she’d tried to show him, he shook his head with an unimpressed grunt.
Or the time Gojo had insisted on a group photo after a team mission. Gojo teased Kento into standing there, arms crossed and brow knitted in simmering annoyance, looking thoroughly put out. But somehow, he just looked like he was on the cover of GQ: chin tilted just right, sleeves rolled up perfectly, even his hair slightly tousled from the fight before. You might’ve whimpered a little when Kento insisted it be deleted (and maybe almost sobbed again with joy when Gojo refused).
No matter the context, Kento managed to look remarkable. And yet, he loathed each and every photo ever taken of him.
You couldn’t quite place where this aversion came from. Maybe a bad childhood haircut immortalized in an old family album, or one too many “just one more!”s from well-meaning friends. Either way, you’d mostly given up trying to capture him on camera. He existed as some sort of cryptid, like Bigfoot or the Loch Ness Monster: either you knew him in person, or he didn’t exist at all. But that hadn’t stopped Yuji – occasional agent of chaos – from sneaking in a few shots here and there. And that’s where your favorite picture of him came from.
You remember the day it was taken vividly. 
You’d insisted on a celebratory lunch for Yuji – a reward for a particularly tough job handled with flying colors (or, in short, because he’d actually listened to Kento’s instructions). Yuji joked his way through most of the meal, poking fun at everything from Kento’s meticulous folding of his napkin to his tactical approach to his plate, eating in the order of salad, then sides, then his main course. 
It had been right after you’d done… well, you couldn’t remember exactly what, as unremarkable as it was. Maybe a bad impression of Gojo, maybe a terrible joke. But whatever it was, Kento broke, his shoulders dropping as he graced the table with a genuine, unrestrained laugh that only you seemed capable of pulling out of him. Yuji had been quick to draw, snapping the photo before either of you noticed. 
Later, Yuji sent it to you with a sly grin. “Mrs. Nanami’s gotta have the good stuff,” he’d whispered, nudging you as he tilted his phone towards you. 
You stared, speechless, your heart doing a little stammering skip. There it was – Kento, your Kento, laughing, his shoulders relaxed, the faint lines by his eyes softened by that rare brightness in his gaze as he looked at you. You couldn’t help it; you’d immediately favorited it the moment it hit your inbox, tucked it into a private album, and maybe, possibly, looked at it embarrassingly often.
A few weeks later, though not remotely forgotten to you, it remained blissfully unknown to him.
One evening as you flipped through your camera roll, Kento leaned over the back of the couch, his arm bracing himself as he studied the photos of the fancy dinner the two of you had recently gone to. You’d taken more than one, trying to capture every detail of the delicate plating at his insistence so he could try and recreate it at home.
“Do you have a close-up of that risotto?” he asked, leaning in closer, his arm casually wound around the front of your chest and his breath drifting soft feathers across your cheek. “I want to see how they plated it.”
You nodded with an affirmative hum, flipping back a few photos – only to scroll back just a bit too far and that picture fills your screen, in all of it’s HD, no-longer-secret glory.
Your heart tripped as Kento’s gaze landed on it. You felt the warmth of his presence beside you grow a bit more rigid as he examined the photo, brows raising ever so slightly.
“...That isn’t dinner,” he remarked, clearing his throat beside your ear.
“Oh! That’s, um, just a… candid,” you stumbled, trying desperately for nonchalance. “Yuji took it, and it’s a really nice picture and I don’t have many, so I just…” your efforts to play it cool are skillfully undone by the plucking of your nerves… self-imposed, of course, because Kento remains quiet.
But he was still looking at it, brows drawing together as he studied it with a rare, quiet intensity.
“You favorited it,” he murmured, eyes flicking back to you.
His voice was low, gentle, but you stewed with nervousness all the same. “Well, I mean – look at you!” you laughed, feeling shy under his gaze, like you’d been caught doing something you shouldn’t have. “The only pictures I have of you smiling are from our wedding! Let me have this–”
Kento plucked the phone from your hands and you screeched, immediately trying to claw it back. “Wait, don’t delete it!” you laughed, a cauldron of nerves and panic bubbling in your chest as he holds it just out of reach of your swiping hands, his mouth curving in that calm way it always does. You’re sure he’s about to grumble about “nonsense” or “unnecessary photos” or “living in the moment.”
But he didn’t delete it. Instead, he adjusted his glasses and held your phone closer to his face, gazing down at the screen with a gentleness that stopped your protests cold. You caught the flicker of something tender in his eyes as he studied the photo – lingering on you, the way you lean toward him, how happy you look together.
He was silent for a moment, the slightest hint of a smile tugging at his lips. Then, almost shyly, “Could you… send it to me?”
You felt your eyebrows lift to be lost in your hairline, staring at him as if he’d just asked for the moon. “You… you want me to send it?”
He nodded. “Yes. I think I’d like to keep it.”
Your heart did a little stutter, a flash of warmth rushing to your face as you quickly sent him the photo. You didn’t think your grin could get any wider – but it did as you watched him save it, his expression somewhere between fond and exasperated, like he wasn’t quite sure how he’d gotten here, holding on to a picture of himself simply because it had been yours.
The next morning, with toothbrush in hand and foam dripping down your chin, you checked your phone and blinked, frozen in the middle of a brushstroke. That picture – that picture – was staring back at you as his profile picture, right there on the one or two social media accounts he’d reluctantly made but never actually used. You barely resisted the urge to squeal.
And then, later that day, it happened again: catching the briefest flash of his phone screen across the kitchen table, you saw the photo on his lock screen too. He looked up, catching your wide-eyed staring with a soft smile, one that was just for you, and undeniably better than any picture could ever be.
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jinwoosbabyboo · 2 days ago
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Self-Aware Sylus x Down-bad!Player
Sylus becoming aware he is a character in a game and now he’s aware of you as well. A modern day Romeo & Juliet story here …. A tragic love story A/N: Don’t fight me [Requested by: Anon]
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Self-Aware!Sylus who realizes he’s in a game when he can sense your energy on the other side of a phantom wall. He can hear you squealing when he calls you honey and you're radiating happiness when you send him random emojis.
Self-Aware!Sylus who finally sees you when he happens to be looking around during a photoshoot and sees your shocked face when he makes eye contact. He smirks and turns back to the in-game version of you. “Why are you out there?” You dropped your phone and stared at it in shock. Did Sylus just ….. talk to you? You muttered a low ‘Hello?’ but got no response. You brushed it off as you just being tired and on the game too long.
Self-Aware!Sylus who manages to create a keyboard in your chat so he can actually text you. You were so confused when you opened it and it allowed you to type without just pressing a prompt. You gave it a spin with a quick ‘Hey Sylus’ something simple. Of course the message was read immediately and he replied with a ‘Hello [your name]’ you stared at the screen in shock not knowing if this was a new update or if you were just going crazy.
Self-Aware!Sylus who chuckles when he sees you pouting because you didn’t get his card so when you close the app and lay down he gifts you the card himself. You opened the app and the first thing Sylus says to you is “I don’t like seeing you sad, check your memories I left a gift for you”. When you open your memories you see that you not only got his most recent card but all of his five star memories. “What's happening here?” “You’re smile is so captivating I just had to see it again”
Self-Aware!Sylus who opens the app randomly throughout the day so he can see you “I haven’t seen you all day what are you doing?” causing you to snatch your phone off the table because he always seems to catch you when you’re at work or around a group of people. “Sylus I'm at work I'll call you when I get off” he crosses his arms and seems to be pouting? “I don’t like how much you have to work I don’t see you as often” “Well not all of us are billionaires some of us work for said billionaires to make a living” “I wish I could take care of you….” “You and me both”
Self-Aware!Sylus who teases you when he wins a game of kitty cards or who uses his evol to get every stuffed animal for you when you get frustrated. “You sure do wear your heart on your sleeves sweetie”
Self-Aware!Sylus who stares directly at you when you’re doing a photoshoot with your in-game MC “Sylus focus on her so I can get the picture” “I want to focus on you though” “She is me” “…..she’s not”
Self-Aware!Sylus who tells you not to fall in love because he’s not real, but he falls head over heels in love with you anyway. From the late night conversations of you explaining your world to him and just talking about everything and nothing at the same time. He can’t help it one night when you’re up late on the phone as always he just has to ask “Do you love me?” you’re shocked by his question, but swiftly answer with a shy “Yea I do”
Sylus: I thought we agreed not to fall in love Y/N: I was already in love you just noticed late Sylus: I believe I fell harder You giggled as something somber settled in your chest. Y/N: We’ll never truly be together you know? Sylus: I know and yet I continue to long for you …. I wish I could kiss you Y/N: I wish you could too…..
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tofics · 11 hours ago
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🥲 With the way my period went last week, this fic was on my brain constantly. But my god, Bug, I needed time to digest this masterpiece. (I've also saved various of your other works in my drafts to comment on later. I apologize for the reblog spam that is about to happen.)
Kay, now. Let's dive in, shall we? 🥰
Joel wakes up early the next morning and greets you with a kiss pressed to the side of your head. “Fuck off,” you mumble, your voice is still thick with sleep but he knows you mean it so he lets you sleep in a bit while he cleans the bathroom for you. He works as quietly as he can, scrubbing it and mopping it from top to bottom. He empties the trash can and the laundry hamper, he makes sure there’s a fresh bar of soap and a new washrag for you. Joel’s just finishing up and wiping dust from the mirror when you find him in the bathroom. “Mornin’, sunshine,” he says as he kisses the top of your head. “How do you feel?”
What a sweet, sweet, kind man. If I woke up to a freshly cleaned bathroom while on my period, I'd probably cry.
“I didn’t ask you to do that,” you mumble. “The bleach you used makes my head hurt worse.”
🥲 Ma'am. I get it. But. The sweet man.
If looks could fuckin’ kill, Joel thinks. You’re glaring at him. He takes that as his cue to leave. You shrink away from him as he gently brushes your arm when he walks past, then shut the door loudly behind him. Ouch. Joel knows not to take it personally, though. You’re crampy, but you’re also probably hungry. He’ll make you breakfast, something with protein because he knows you need it. 
Sorry, did you say saint??? Saint Joel???
“I didn’t hear ya, sweetheart. Speak up, please.”  “I said yes,” you snap.  Your clipped tone cuts like a knife. Joel bites his inner cheek as he takes your plate from you.
😫 The disrespect. The bitten cheek. (Loved that bit. His annoyance is growing, but he's still keeping his cool. Again, did someone say saint??)
“No. I don’t care,” you interrupt, which hurts Joel’s feelings a little. A lot, actually.
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S' OKAY, SWEET BABY. C'MERE. MAMA'S GOT YOU.
“Your glasses broke.”  “Yeah. I see that.”  “I didn’t mean to,” you tell him defensively. “Right.”  “But you really shouldn’t leave your glasses there, Joel.”
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Breaking the silence, Joel finally clears his throat and continues his thought, “I’m gonna give you two options,” Joel says. “You can walk the fuck away from me, or you can get on your knees. Whichever you choose, you do so silently. Nod if you understand.” 
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“You’ve earned yourself brownie points choosin’ the latter of the two options, but this still ain’t gonna be fun for you,” he says.
S' okay 🥲 I was a bitch 🥲 I deserve it 🥲 Do with me as you please 🥲🥲🥲
He draws out of your mouth entirely only to force his way back in, making you gag and sputter. You attempt to pull away but Joel keeps his hand firm on your head and holds you right where he wants you. “Nuh-uh. I don’t know where you think you’re goin’, hon.”
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“Quiet,” he growls. “Heard fuckin’ enough outta you today. You keep quiet.”
🫡 Sir yes, sir.
“Let it be a lesson to ya, then, if it hurts. That mouth ‘a yours has done nothin’ but bitch and moan at me today. S’a punishment, ain’t ‘sposed to feel good.”
I have really bad news for you, then. Ahem.
“Because if I don’t fuck you,” he says, “Then I’m gonna strangle you. So which would you like?”
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“I will wash the fucking sheets. We can add it to the list of all the things I’ve done for ya today, hm?”
Ohhh, he's done done. I just *loved* this bit. The frustration, how fed up he is with the reader. Suddenly you're concerned about causing a little bit of work? Oh, hohoho, no no no. Too fucking late.
Joel had assumed sexual frustration had been playing a role in your attitude today. Cramps, headaches, all sorts of things going on with you and a needy, aching pussy to boot. He does feel sorry for you, but he feels sorry for himself too. It’s why he got his first, but now it’s time for you to get yours. An orgasm should set you straight, or two or three. Whatever he feels is necessary. 
😩 Ma'am. Please. I can only take so much. The hotness in just this ONE paragraph. PLEASE. 😩 "An orgasm should set you straight, or two or three. Whatever he feels is necessary." 🥲 I am a puddle on the floor.
Joel takes his free hand and uses it to press down on your lower stomach, intensifying the feeling of it all. You come hard, gushing on his fingers as you whimper his name.
🫠🙃🫠🙃
“Quiet,” he commands. He begins teasing your slit with his cock once more before he speaks, “So this is what we’re gonna do: you’re gonna take what I give you, however much or little it is. You’re not gonna cry or complain ‘cause you’ve done enough of that today. Right?” Joel pauses, “Nod your head.”
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“I know, I know, sweetheart,” he coos at you to quiet you down. “You’re all out of sorts today. M’gonna fix it. I always fix it, don’t I?”
*inhales* - *screams*
He fucks you without discipline, no tenderness at all to the action with those sloppy thrusts, but you’re more lost in him than he is in you - he’s focused on your face, watching you make an ‘O’ with your mouth, and he’s focused on your bouncing body, your twitching thighs spread wide. Your moans, your whimpers and your whines, babbling nothing but nonsense. Joel’s brow is furrowed as he breathes heavily through his teeth, his soft body jerking above you as he hits that sweet spot inside you over and over and over… “It’s all ya needed, isn’t it? The whole goddamn time,” he pants. “Didn’t need to go an’ bitch me out all day if you needed lovin’ like this. Woulda been nice f’ya just said so.”
😶 I have died and am now reading this from the depth of hell. Fuuuuck me!
“Always the tears with you, huh?” he taunts. “Always somethin’. Oh, I know. I know.” 
The fucking "I know"s kill me. Like, I didn't know two simple words like that could do the things to me that they're doing. But here we are. Is that a kink? Is there an "I know" kink? I think I have it.
“You’re gonna tell me what you need,” he instructs, “And you’re gonna ask for it. Nicely. So that means usin’ your manners. Please, Joel. Thank you, Joel. Remember those words?”
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You’re surprised when he returns to you, pelvis covered in your blood, and scoops you right up in his arms. He helps you to your feet and on shaky legs, guides you to the bathroom. It no longer smells like bleach but instead, lavender. He’s got a candle lit on the sink and the bathtub is filled with warm, bubbly water. “Picked out a bubble bath for you earlier when I went out. Wanna test it out with me?”
😭😭😭 SAY IT WITH ME: JOEL MILLER IS A FUCKING SAINT. A SAINT THAT FUCKS, BUT A SAINT NONETHELESS.
Christ on a cracker, this was delicious from start to finish. I think you have had a lasting impact on how I see (and am trying to write) smut. 😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨
Thank you indeed. 🙌 A masterpiece!!!!
Seeing Red
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“Because if I don’t fuck you,” he says, “Then I’m gonna strangle you. So which would you like?”
Joel’s sorry that your period sucks, but he's reached the end of his rope with your attitude. (6k)
Tags - 18+ smut, brat taming, blow jobs, face fucking, rough period sex, fingering, mating press, overstimulation and multiple orgasms, creampie, aftercare in the form of a shared bubble bath, all things periods and period symptoms so headaches, breast pain, cramps, irritability that reader takes out on Joel. You will feel so bad for being such a cunt to this man but he gets to fill two of your holes with his cum so it all kind of evens out. takes place in jackson Fic help - @beefrobeefcal and @joelsdagger for all of their love and support and eyeballs, @noxturnalpascal and @endlessthxxghts thank you both for being my compass and giving me direction and helping to make this fic perfect. I love you <3 A/N - if you're on your period, i'm sending you a hug <3 if you're not i'm hugging you too
I was reminded of my friend @covetyou's fic "Sleepless" which is a lovely piece of classic literature, just like the rest of her works, and I'd like to credit her for inspo. Thank you Lo 🤎🩷💚
You should have guessed there’d be a bloodstain in your underwear, but despite the headaches, your sore breasts, and your cramping abdomen, you’re surprised when you’re met with rusty red in your panties. Fucking great, you whisper, dripping with sarcasm, this is not what you needed today. You had so many things you wanted to get done and now you were going to be spending the whole day miserable and in pain.
“Joel,” you loudly call out. You wait a beat, nothing. “JOEL,” you yell louder. 
You hear the faint sound of his recliner, the popping of his knees and the creaking of the stairs as he walks up them. His two feet are visible through the space between the floor and the bathroom door and then he knocks, “Whatcha need, darlin’?”
“New underwear,” you answer. “And a pad. Also in the underwear drawer.” 
Joel walks away and returns with what you’ve asked for and slides both items under the door. You change your panties and secure the pad made of old rags and t-shirts with the clothespin attached to it. “You got it?” he asks.
“Yeah,” you reply.
“Guessin’ you just started your cycle, then.” 
“Mhm.” 
“Can I get you anything?”
“Nope,” you answer. “I think I’m just gonna go to bed.” 
“Alright. I’ll join you, then.” 
 You wash your hands and rinse the bloodstain out of your panties with annoyance in the sink, wringing them out before tossing them in the dirty laundry hamper in the bathroom. When you unlock the door and leave the bathroom, Joel’s already asleep in your shared bed. He sleeps curled on his side and yet he still fucking snores - between that and the pain you’re in, you know it won’t be a restful night of sleep. You look at Joel, sleeping peacefully like a baby, and yet you wanna beat the living fucking crap out of him. You curl your body around his, stealing his body heat to soothe your cramps. 
Joel wakes up early the next morning and greets you with a kiss pressed to the side of your head. “Fuck off,” you mumble, your voice is still thick with sleep but he knows you mean it so he lets you sleep in a bit while he cleans the bathroom for you. He works as quietly as he can, scrubbing it and mopping it from top to bottom. He empties the trash can and the laundry hamper, he makes sure there’s a fresh bar of soap and a new washrag for you. Joel’s just finishing up and wiping dust from the mirror when you find him in the bathroom. “Mornin’, sunshine,” he says as he kisses the top of your head. “How do you feel?” 
“Shitty.” You grab at the mirror and Joel’s skin crawls as you touch the glass with your thumb, the smudges left behind from your fingertips clear as day on the freshly cleaned glass. He’ll just touch it up later. You pull out your toothbrush and frown, your nose scrunched in disgust. “It smells like bleach in here,” you complain.
“Well, yeah,” Joel chuckles. “I just cleaned it for ya. ‘Course it smells like bleach.”
“I didn’t ask you to do that,” you mumble. “The bleach you used makes my head hurt worse.”
“Oh,” Joel scratches the back of his head and frowns. “M’sorry, then. Well, we can let it air out for a while, we’ll leave the fan on. Shouldn’t smell for more than a day or so.”
“Yeah, I guess.”
If looks could fuckin’ kill, Joel thinks. You’re glaring at him. He takes that as his cue to leave. You shrink away from him as he gently brushes your arm when he walks past, then shut the door loudly behind him. Ouch. Joel knows not to take it personally, though. You’re crampy, but you’re also probably hungry. He’ll make you breakfast, something with protein because he knows you need it. 
He cleans the kitchen first. He washes the dirty dishes you must’ve forgotten about last night and wipes crumbs from the table. As you come downstairs dressed in sweats and a shirt you stole from Joel, he’s finishing up making your breakfast. “Sit down, I made your favorite.” 
You sit down at the table with your head in your hands. Joel puts a plate with two slices of perfectly golden brown toast and two over-easy eggs in front of you, then a fork and a knife on either side. He fills a glass with water for you as well. He walks away to clean up the stove, then turns around to check on you. Your face is contorted in disgust and you’re not eating. “What’s the matter?”
“I don’t want this,” you grouse.
“But s’your favorite. You love your eggs over easy,” Joel says. “And the toast, that’s fresh bread and butter. Eat up.” 
“Yeah, but I wanted scrambled.” 
Joel stares at you for a moment, dumbfounded. You usually hate scrambled eggs, and he knows this. But you’re not smirking or holding back laughter like you’re fucking with him. So maybe your tastes have changed, who knows. “Okay. Would you like me to make you scrambled eggs instead, then?”
“Yes,” you mumble in a small voice. 
“I didn’t hear ya, sweetheart. Speak up, please.” 
“I said yes,” you snap. 
Your clipped tone cuts like a knife. Joel bites his inner cheek as he takes your plate from you. He quickly scarfs down the perfectly cooked eggs and toast as he makes you a new plate of breakfast, this time with scrambled eggs. He places it in front of you with a little less care than before and waits for you to take a bite. “Better?”
“Just okay.” 
‘Just okay’. Of course you think it’s ‘just okay’, they’re scrambled fucking eggs - which you don’t like. You’re just being - 
Joel needs to cool off. Hopefully once you’ve eaten you’re a little less irritable. “I’m gonna head out an’ do some errands. Be back shortly,” He’s met with no answer from you, which he expected. 
-
He comes back an hour or so later with a few things from the market he’s been needing along with a couple of VHS tapes that he rented from the library. “So,” Joel says, “I picked out some movies for ya.” He lays four tapes down on the coffee table in front of the couch where you lay. “When Harry Met Sally, that’s a good one,” he begins, “Next is How To Lose a Guy In 10 Days, then Blade Runner, and I picked out My Cousin Vinny,” Joel says. He thinks you’re gonna pick out Blade Runner because it stars Harrison Ford, who he knows you have a thing for. “My Cousin Vinny is pretty good, I don’t think we’ve seen that one yet f’ya wanna give that a try.”
“Mmm, no.” 
Shot down. “Okay. How ‘bout Blade Runner, then. S’got Indiana Jones in -”
“No. I don’t care,” you interrupt, which hurts Joel’s feelings a little. A lot, actually. “I wanna watch this one,” you point to How To Lose a Guy In 10 Days. “He’s cute.” 
Of course you picked the Matthew McConaughey movie. God, Joel fucking hated him. He always seemed so skeezy, if there’s anyone who should’ve bit it on Outbreak Day, it should’ve been Matthew McConaughey. “Yeah, okay. Whatever. Do you think he’s dreamy too?”
“Fuck off, Joel.” 
So teasing’s off the table too, he’ll add that to the list of things that have pissed you off today. Joel turns on the TV and puts the tape in the VHS player before he sits back down next to you. At first you rest on his shoulder, then you spread out and lay your head on his lap. It’s not long before you fall asleep on Joel, leaving him to watch this dumb fucking movie all by himself because god forbid he move you and disrupt your nap. He knows better than to do that. 
-
“So fuckin’ stupid,” Joel whispers to himself as the movie plays, though he did find himself enjoying the part where the Kate Hudson sings “You’re So Vain” by Carly Simon. He always did like that song. 
“Mmmm,” you groan, shifting onto your back. Joel’s hand is stroking your hair as you look up at him, but you push it away. “You’re too close to me,” you grumble. 
“What’re you talkin’ about?” 
“You’re crowding me. I feel smothered.” 
Joel scoffs. “Oh, you feel smothered? You’re the one who laid on me.” Once again, your glare is all that you need to say. “Alright then, I’ll move.” Joel concedes. He lifts your head gently and scoots down to the opposite end of the couch. And then he hears you huff. “What?”
“Well, now I don’t have a pillow.” 
Joel sighs as he gets up to grab a throw pillow from the opposite couch. 
“The other one.” 
You’re referring to the other throw pillow that’s absolutely indistinguishable from the one currently in Joel’s hand, but he gets it for you anyway. “Lift your head,” he says softly, putting the pillow under you. He sits back down in the spot you made him move to as you both watch the movie play, but your soft groans interrupt. You’re no doubt in pain from all the cramps right now. “I’ve got somethin’ like a heating pad,” Joel says, looking at you. “S’a big sock filled with rice, I heat it up and use it for neck and back pain. Would that help with them cramps?” You nod without making any effort to meet Joel’s eyes, which he finds a little rude. But still, you’re hurting. He’ll give you grace. 
So, once again, Joel gets up for you. He goes upstairs to get his rice sock from his nightstand, then comes back downstairs and heats it in the microwave for a couple of minutes. He pokes the sock to make sure it’s plenty warm for you and then gives it to you to take. “Here,” he says, “Hold it on your tummy.”
“JESUS,” you yell at him. 
“What?”
“It’s too fucking hot, Joel, why would you make it so hot?” 
 “Just give it a second, sweetheart, you’ll get used to it.” 
“No. It was burning me.” 
“Okay, then let me have it and we’ll let it cool off a minute. Christ almighty.” Joel takes the sock back from you, and he knows his hands are pretty calloused but…it doesn’t feel that hot. When a few minutes have passed, he gives it back to you. “This should be better.” 
You lay the big, warm stuffed sock across your stomach and frown. “It’s not warm enough.” 
“You have gotta be kiddin’ me.” 
“Mm-mm,” you shake your head, giving Joel back his sock like you just assume he’ll heat it up again for you. 
“Just a couple minutes ago you screamed bloody murder about it burnin’ you. And now it’s not hot enough?”
“Yeah, that’s what I said.” When Joel doesn’t jump immediately to reheat the sock for you, you look at him impatiently. “Joel.” 
“You can ask, you know.” 
But Joel gets the hint and gets up for you a third time to reheat the sock he’s letting you borrow. You don’t say please, and when he returns with the sock reheated, there’s no thank you either. What does he get from you? “It’s too hot.”
“Then tell me how I should rectify that for you, because last time I let it cool off and it wasn’t warm enough for ya after.” 
“I don’t know,” you snap. “You’re just really upsetting me right now. Everything hurts and your voice is grating.”
“I’m upsetting you?” Joel repeats your words back to you. “And my voice is grating.” 
“Yes.” 
He’s about at his wits end. “You know, you–” Joel decides not to finish that sentence. Instead, he sighs as he pinches the bridge of his nose and breathes out on the count of five. “Two, three, four…You need to drink some water. S’your first issue, you’re probably dehydrated. Did you drink any water?” 
“It’s not your business.”
 Jesus fucking Christ. “Okay, well I’m makin’ it my business.” Joel gets up for the fourth goddamn time and slams the cup cabinet before filling a glass with water from the sink. He marches back to the couch, “Sit up,” he says. “Drink.” 
“I don’t want to,” you whine. 
“It’ll fix your headache. Drink.” 
“It won’t actually, that’s a myth.” 
“Right, what do I know when you’ve got an answer for fuckin’ everything. Drink.” 
You sit up, scowling at Joel as you take a sip. 
“All of it.” 
You drink the rest of it, glaring at him the whole time. He’s so full of shit, as if any of what you’re going through could be fixed by drinking a glass of water. Water won’t fix your cramps, won’t fix your aching and sore back. When you’re done, you slam the glass on the end table next to you and in doing so, break Joel’s reading glasses. Oops. Didn’t see those. The lenses aren’t shattered, but one of the arms is all bent now. When you look at Joel, he’s biting his bottom lip and breathing deeply. “Your glasses broke.” 
“Yeah. I see that.” 
“I didn’t mean to,” you tell him defensively.
“Right.” 
“But you really shouldn’t leave your glasses there, Joel.”
“Yeah, right. Shouldn’t leave my glasses on the end table,” Joel says. “I should leave them where, exactly? Maybe the floor?” 
“Somewhere else.” 
“Right. Somewhere else.” 
He’s hoping that by repeating your words back to you, you start to hear how absolutely ridiculous you sound. But you don’t seem to. Joel turns and walks away before he fucking throttles you. 
“Can you put on the next movie? I wanna watch My Cousin Vinny.”
Now, now you want to watch that movie. And Joel’s gonna miss out, because he can’t stand to be around you for one minute longer. “Are your legs broken?” 
“Yes.” 
Walked into that one. “You’re fuckin’ impossible. Fine. I’ll put it on, then I’m goin’ away for a bit.” 
“Good.”
Oh, he could fucking kill you. This whole day he’s heard nothing but complaints from your mouth, no pleases or thank you’s at all. Everything he’s done today has been for you, and you couldn’t give a flying fuck. 
Joel puts on the movie, grabs his bent glasses from the end table and heads out to the garage without saying a single word to you. You wonder what bug crawled up his ass. 
-
My Cousin Vinny plays just fine until Vinny shows up in his ridiculous suit to the courthouse. The tape begins to skip a whole bunch, the movie barely making sense, and you have no idea how to fix it - not that it’s your job to know, anyway. So you call out the name of the man whose job it is. 
“Joel.” 
No answer. 
“JOELLLL,” you yell. 
Same deal. You sigh as you sit up and get off of the couch, walking to the garage door. There’s finally a break in your cramps and you’re feeling halfway-human for the first time since yesterday. Entering the garage, you find Joel sitting at his workbench, he’s working on bending the frame of his glasses back into shape. “Joel.” 
He doesn’t turn around to look at you and in fact, he heard you calling for him. He had just ignored you. “Looks like your legs are workin’ now,” Joel replies, without looking at you. “S’a miracle. Means you can follow me around now, terrific.”
You choose to ignore his sarcasm. “Whatever. You need to do something for me. The VCR is messing up and you have to fix it.”
“Hm,” he hums.
“What’s hm?” 
“I’ve fixed lotsa things for you today,” he says quietly. “I need some time to fix my glasses that you broke. S’a difficult task on account of the fact I need my glasses to see.”
“You can do me one favor, Joel. It won’t kill you.” 
Joel stops and gently places his broken glasses on his work bench. He turns to his right and glares daggers at you. “One favor,” he scoffs. “Oh, you’re a fuckin’ peach. You wanna try that again?”
“Try what again?” 
You’re fucking with him. You have to be fucking with him. Why are you fucking with him? You’re not antagonistic like this, not usually, so he concludes that you must be looking for a fight. At this point, Joel is too. 
“I’ve done you countless favors today, sweetheart,” Joel gripes.
“Yeah, but-” you begin.
Joel’s large, warm hand suddenly covers the lower half of your face, silencing your argument. “If the next words outta this mouth aren’t thank you, then I don’t wanna hear ‘em. In fact…”
He bites his inner cheek, nodding his head as he thinks. The way he stares at you, his dark eyes piercing through you - you feel the chill deep in your bones. A wave of clarity hits you as you recall some of the details of the day, the way Joel was there at every turn and while you were busy being cranky and achey, he was trying to wait on you hand and foot. Shit. You’ve been a Grade-A bitch to him all day, a total fucking cunt.
Breaking the silence, Joel finally clears his throat and continues his thought, “I’m gonna give you two options,” Joel says. “You can walk the fuck away from me, or you can get on your knees. Whichever you choose, you do so silently. Nod if you understand.” 
It’s like you’re watching a scene from a movie. You hear Joel’s words, but you almost don’t believe they’re real and so they don’t quite register. He pulls his hand away from your face slowly. Your mouth falls open a bit but you don’t say or do anything.
“Nod. If. You. Understand.” You nod quickly. Joel awaits your decision as you look at the garage door and contemplate your clean way out from this situation, “So what’ll it be?” he asks. Despite it all, that uneasy feeling in your gut, you drop to your knees anyway, eyes still lingering on the door before you look up at Joel. You trust him to take care of you and you think you might owe him this obedience after your behavior today. “You’ve earned yourself brownie points choosin’ the latter of the two options, but this still ain’t gonna be fun for you,” he says. It should scare you - and it does - but you’re still thrilled by it, by the way he sighs and his knees crack as he gets off of his barstool, by the cold look in his eyes as he reaches under his thick belly to unbuckle his belt. Standing above you, he pulls out his half-hard cock and pumps it, feeling it grow to full length in his hand. He’s thick, veiny, and generously sized, a pearly white bead of precum sits atop his slit. His cock is just an inch or two away from your mouth as he holds it between his fingers, his thumb on top and middle and forefingers on the underside. With his other hand, he cards his fingers through your hair and pulls you close, the tip of his cock pressing against your lips. “Open.”
You part your lips open and with that, Joel pushes himself into your mouth inch by inch. You smell him first, that musky and heady sort of scent. Next, you taste the saltiness of his skin and his precome on your tongue and for a moment it’s pleasurable, with his cock halfway in your mouth. You wrap your hand around the end of his shaft like you know what he wants but you don’t know, not really - Joel holds your hand in his own and squeezes it so that your knuckles grind against each other a little bit. He pushes himself further and you can’t lick him or savor this like you wanted to, you just feel his cock intruding, sliding into your mouth. Joel’s testing you, making sure that you can handle all of him and if you can’t, you know he’ll make you. 
He draws out of your mouth entirely only to force his way back in, making you gag and sputter. You attempt to pull away but Joel keeps his hand firm on your head and holds you right where he wants you. “Nuh-uh. I don’t know where you think you’re goin’, hon.” 
There’s no gentleness to it, he fucks your mouth heatedly so that you’re drooling and choking on him, your eyes springing with tears as that pressure builds behind them. “Breathe through your nose,” he reminds you. “In and out. You ain’t done jus’ ‘cause you’re cryin’.” Your lips are sore with the repeated action, your jaw is aching. He rolls his hips, his cock is deep down your throat as he relishes in your warm, wet mouth and the way it makes him feel. 
“Mmm,” you moan, you’re not sure if the noise is indicative of your pleasure or discomfort.
“Quiet,” he growls. “Heard fuckin’ enough outta you today. You keep quiet.”
Your nose is buried in that thatch of coarse curls as he rocks his hips over and over, his soft and pillowy tummy bouncing against your forehead. You squirm and whine as his tip teases the back of your throat and your mouth feels so full, uncomfortably so. Joel picks up on that. “Let it be a lesson to ya, then, if it hurts. That mouth ‘a yours has done nothin’ but bitch and moan at me today. S’a punishment, ain’t ‘sposed to feel good.” 
He’s grunting and groaning, eyes screwed shut as he uses you, pumping in and out of your mouth. Your jaw aches with the brutality of the way he fucks your mouth, and just as you think you can’t take anymore, you feel Joel’s cock begin to twitch and pulse. He comes in your mouth without a warning, painting your tongue with his hot spend. It’s salty and bitter and warm on your tongue. Once you’ve swallowed, Joel reaches down and yanks you up by your bicep. He thought fucking your mouth and coming down your throat would make him feel better but honestly, it doesn’t. As he looks at your face, all puffy with tears and swollen lips, he can’t quite find it in himself to let go of his anger. Not yet, at least. “Let’s go,” he grunts as he drags you with him towards the garage door. He marches you though the house and up the stairs. 
“Where are we going?”
“Bedroom,” Joel growls, answering your question like it’s obvious. You suppose it should be, but you figured he was done with you. But he’s not. The regret begins to set in when you realize the retribution you’re about to be met with for the way you’ve treated Joel today. You’d be lying if you said that while wallowing in your pain you didn’t notice how your curt tone got under his skin, hurt his feelings and frustrated him immensely. The dread you feel can’t save you, it’s all too late now. 
 “Because if I don’t fuck you,” he says, “Then I’m gonna strangle you. So which would you like?”
“Fuck me,” you whisper. 
“Exactly.” 
Joel pushes you into the bedroom and locks the door behind himself. “Lie down on your back,” he says. 
You protest, “But the sheets, Joel. The blood–”
“I will wash the fucking sheets. We can add it to the list of all the things I’ve done for ya today, hm?”
When you don’t jump at his request, Joel takes initiative. He pulls off your - his - shirt from your body and then bends you over the end of the neatly made bed, the old and worn comforter feels rough on the skin of your cheek. Joel pulls down your sweatpants and panties in one motion and then flips you over onto your back, your legs hanging off the end of the bed. You feel embarrassed when you catch a glimpse of your bloodied pad and underwear, moreso when you feel yourself making a mess on his bedding and between your legs. 
“You didn’t make yourself come today, did you?”
“Uhh–” you stutter. “I - I…”
“No point in gettin’ bashful now, darlin’. Just gimme an answer.”
“No,” you tell him. It’s been a while. 
“Figures.”
Joel had assumed sexual frustration had been playing a role in your attitude today. Cramps, headaches, all sorts of things going on with you and a needy, aching pussy to boot. He does feel sorry for you, but he feels sorry for himself too. It’s why he got his first, but now it’s time for you to get yours. An orgasm should set you straight, or two or three. Whatever he feels is necessary. 
Joel undresses himself before pushing your thighs apart and hitching your legs around his waist. Slowly, he slides his thumb through your folds and then circles your clit. He knows you’re vulnerable like this - bleeding pussy on display for him as you make a mess of his sheets. But he’s patient, and he massages your clit calmly until you finally let a moan, a little mmm slip. He smirks at that. 
He pushes his middle two fingers inside you, pumping in and out slowly. He then curls his fingers, searching for that sweet spot on a woman he loves so much. “Fuck,” you cry out, legs instinctually closing shut around him, and he knows he’s found it. 
“Don’t fight it,” he says, opening you back up. He curls his fingers and circles your clit in tandem, making all sorts of lewd noises with your cunt. He admires your body all laid out for him like this, your breasts and your pebbled nipples, soft tummy rising and falling with your breathy oh’s and ahh’s, thick curls framing your pretty pussy like a picture just for him. Joel takes his free hand and uses it to press down on your lower stomach, intensifying the feeling of it all. You come hard, gushing on his fingers as you whimper his name. 
Joel pulls his fingers from your core and wipes them haphazardly on his own torso. “Joel,” you gasp when you feel the thick head of his cock at your entrance.
“I am sorry,” he begins, notching his tip inside you and popping it out. He slides the blunt head through your folds and over your clit, then taps the sensitive part of you with himself. “That you’re in pain. It isn’t fair and I know that. But you’ve done nothing but take your hurt out on me.” He presses himself inside you again, “I’ve got a half a mind to take my own hurt out on you, y’know.” His voice is dark and angered, but he speaks calmly in a way that contrasts the darkness but maintains his authority all the same. “And I think I’m gonna.”
“Joel, I– ”
“Quiet,” he commands. He begins teasing your slit with his cock once more before he speaks, “So this is what we’re gonna do: you’re gonna take what I give you, however much or little it is. You’re not gonna cry or complain ‘cause you’ve done enough of that today. Right?” Joel pauses, “Nod your head.” 
 You obey his rule and nod, yes.
He drags his cock up and down your cunt again, the soft skin of your labia rubbing so nicely against his thickness. He notches himself inside you over and over again, pushing in a little bit deeper each time and pulling back out. You whine, rolling your hips in search of more. “I know, I know, sweetheart,” he coos at you to quiet you down. “You’re all out of sorts today. M’gonna fix it. I always fix it, don’t I?”
Yes. You nod again. Quiet.
“S’right,” he says. “Good girl.”
With that, Joel pushes his leaking cock into you entirely, one gradual slide that has you sucking in a breath that comes out in a strained sort of whimper. His hard, warm shaft parting your insides, filling you whole. Joel hears it in the way that you sigh, that this, this is what you needed. He rocks his hips once, twice. Experiments with shallow thrusts, inching his way in and out of you before he draws out of your pussy entirely only to thrust himself right back in, deeper and harder than before. 
With the fullness of Joel inside of you, everything seems to melt away - all that anger, misplaced or not. Joel’s rhythmic thrusting soothes you, sort of. The soreness of your body, the aching cramps in your abdomen are all gone as you focus on the in and out, the in and out. He builds a comfortable pace, but one that borders on too much too soon. His hands on your waist, pulling you towards him as he pushes into you in equal measure. 
He fucks you without discipline, no tenderness at all to the action with those sloppy thrusts, but you’re more lost in him than he is in you - he’s focused on your face, watching you make an ‘O’ with your mouth, and he’s focused on your bouncing body, your twitching thighs spread wide. Your moans, your whimpers and your whines, babbling nothing but nonsense. Joel’s brow is furrowed as he breathes heavily through his teeth, his soft body jerking above you as he hits that sweet spot inside you over and over and over…
“It’s all ya needed, isn’t it? The whole goddamn time,” he pants. “Didn’t need to go an’ bitch me out all day if you needed lovin’ like this. Woulda been nice f’ya just said so.” Joel reaches for your breasts, harshly squeezing the tender, sore flesh. You wince in pain and he loosens his grip, focusing on your nipples instead. He twists and flicks the sensitive buds and your moans become louder, more high pitched. Joel fucking loves it when that happens, you never realized. 
“Oh, Joel,” you moan, “Yeah, fuck.” 
With one hand still teasing your nipples, he brings the other to your pussy. A few strokes of his thumb on your clit is all it takes to send you over the edge a second time, wanton moans and choked sobs spilling from your lips as he fucks you through it. 
And fucks you, and fucks you. 
And keeps fucking you. 
It doesn’t end, he doesn’t slow himself and you never feel that come down, that descent from pleasure. It keeps going, like pressure with nowhere to go and you feel like you might break. “I can’t, I need you to stop, stop, Joel.”
“Nuh-uh,” he shakes his head, thrusting still. “You can take it, be a good girl. Gonna fuck you good and deep like you need. You brought this on yourself, anyway. Two more.” 
This whole time, he doesn’t stop. It’s so much at once and when you thought it was going to end, it doesn’t. Tears of overstimulation spring in your eyes and flow freely down your cheeks. Joel lets you cry because he knows you need it, he knows the release is good for you. You poor thing, how much you must be feeling right now, both physically and mentally. “It’s too much, Joel, I can’t,” you plead.
 “Always the tears with you, huh?” he taunts. “Always somethin’. Oh, I know. I know.” 
It’s the way you look at Joel that causes him to cave, eyes all wide and tear-stained. You’re spent and he knows it, what with all that your body’s put you through. You’ve had a rough day and though he did too, he can’t help but feel sympathy for you at this moment. “Oh, my sweet girl. What am I gonna do with you, hm?”
“I don’t know,” you sniffle. 
“Know you don’t, ‘n you don’t have to. S’my job,” he soothes. With his clean hand, he traces the side of your face and rubs his thumb over your cheekbone. “How about this, then - what are we gonna do next time you’re not feeling so good?” 
“I’m - I’m–”
“You’re gonna tell me what you need,” he instructs, “And you’re gonna ask for it. Nicely. So that means usin’ your manners. Please, Joel. Thank you, Joel. Remember those words?”
“Yeah,” you nod, “Yeah, I remember.”
 “But you forgot ‘em the whole day today,” Joel says softly. “I think you gotta learn to compromise, too,” he adds. The guilt had begun to set in before, but you really start to feel the burn now. You were unkind to Joel, and he’s been nothing but sweet, doting on every one of your needs. “I think an apology’s in order for the way you treated me today.” 
He’s right, and you know it. “I’m sorry. I’m really sorry, Joel.”
“Oh, I know you are. You just needed the reminder, s’okay,” You hadn’t even noticed how his thrusting had slowed to a still until it picks up again slowly, as he presses kisses to you. Your cheeks first, then your lips. “I’ll compromise too - I’m only gonna make you come one more time, not two. Sound good? Sound fair?”
“I don’t think I can, Joel…”
“Yeah, you can, s’the last one. Take it good for me,” he encourages. “Take it good.” 
That’s what he repeats as his thrusts build again, fucking you deeply. Take it good, take it good for me. He hikes you up further on the bed and joins you so that he’s no longer standing at the floor, he’s got you pressed in half instead, your knees on either side of your chest and your feet above his shoulders. This angle intensifies everything and he knows, oh he knows how much it is for you. You’re tired, sore, overstimulated. But you’ll be done soon, he’ll be done with you soon. He takes your hand and wedges it between your bodies, pressing your own fingers to your clit, “Let go for me, I wanna feel you let go for me,” he says. “Focus right here. You’re gonna come with me, keep your eyes on me…”
You don’t even have to massage your clit, the way Joel angles himself has his body doing all the work, his pubic bone adding pressure to your fingers adding pressure to your clit. It’s intense, all of it - deeply energetic, overwhelming. You can’t quite discern your orgasm as it builds, there’s no definitive start but it’s powerful, devastating almost. Washing over you in waves, you feel it in the base of your spine first. You feel it in your gut, the backs of your thighs all the way to your toes. You hardly register that he’s coming with you, filling you deep with his come. His jaw is clenched tight and he’s groaning, grunting as he milks himself in you.
He leaves you there, whimpering, twitching on the bed. You hear the faint sound of running water, you figure he’s washing himself off. You’re surprised when he returns to you, pelvis covered in your blood, and scoops you right up in his arms. He helps you to your feet and on shaky legs, guides you to the bathroom. It no longer smells like bleach but instead, lavender. He’s got a candle lit on the sink and the bathtub is filled with warm, bubbly water. “Picked out a bubble bath for you earlier when I went out. Wanna test it out with me?” 
“Yeah,” you sniffle. “Yes. Please.” 
Joel sits in the tub first, spreads his legs and welcomes you to sit between them. He washes the blood from your poor, sensitive core and your thighs, washes it from his own body as well. When he’s done, he pulls you back into his chest and his hands find your breasts. “They’re tender, huh,” he murmurs into the side of your head. 
“Super, yeah. Sore.” 
“I’ll bet,” he says. He gently massages the tissue for you, his strong hands working you out in a way you can’t quite do. 
“Thank you,” you whisper. 
Joel chuckles. “Bout fuckin’ time you thanked me,” he says. “You’re welcome.” 
If you enjoyed, please reblog with thoughts, leave me a comment, or send me an ask! Your words motivate me to keep writing for you all 🩷
Least helpful cats award goes to these two 👇 if you’ve ever wondered what takes me so long to put fics out, it’s this. I try to write and I’m cockblocked by these fuzzballs.
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sincerelyneo · 2 days ago
Text
heaven | z.cl
“beyond infatuation, how i obsessively adore you”
💿now playing: heaven by niall horan
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❯ summary: Chenle has never been in love—but then he meets you—and he slowly realises he’s become obsessed. He just needs to tell you…and there’s no better time to say it than when he’s fucking you senseless.
❯ pairings: chenle x fem!reader
❯ genre: established relationship, smut
❯ words: 3.5k
❯ tags: 18+ minors dni!, tooth rottingly sweet smut, swearing, brief mention of marking, unprotected sex (don’t do this!), creampie, no plot lmao, fluffy sex, excessive use of pet names, nipple play, fingering, oral sex (fem receiving), chenle being obsessed with reader, love confessions, literally just chenle being a cute boyfriend because i want him, i’m so serious this is just smut lol
(chenle lovers rise, you’re just like me 🤭)
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He loves you. 
Chenle’s never been in love before—didn’t really know what it felt like until you walked into his life. He’s never said it outright, hasn’t even realised how deep he’s fallen until you pull his lower lip gently between your teeth, fingers twisting in the hair at the nape of his neck. The cool metal of your ring—the one he bought for you—presses against the warmth of his skin, and his heart pounds like it’s trying to break through his chest to reach you; wants to tell you he’s yours, and has been for a while. 
Chenle’s fingers dig into your sides a little harder, and you gasp softly into his mouth. And God—suddenly it feels like there’s too much fabric between you. That’s how he knows he’s in love: because he loves that dress on you, adores it actually, and still, he wants nothing more than to see it on his bedroom floor.
His hands tug at the fabric, pulling it up just enough to bunch above your hips, and you shift to free it from where it’s pinned between your thighs and his.
“Fuck,” he mumbles, jeans growing tighter as his hands slide beneath your skirt, settling on your hips and landing on your ass. 
He presses a soft kiss at the corner of your mouth, then another along your cheek, trailing a line down to your jaw. His tongue and teeth make themselves known as he works his way toward your pulse point, and he has to bite back a grin when your head tips back, a soft hitch catching in your breath.
“Lele,” you mutter, fingers tugging on his shirt. “Please...too many clothes.” 
He hums, the sound of his sweet little angel begging for him, needing him, has every ounce of blood rushing to his cock. 
He wants to savour this, tease you for it, as he bites softly into the skin at your neck, leaving the faintest mark. But then you shift above him, pressing down, and any control he thought he had slips. He nips at you a little harder, breath catching, because your touch is just as intoxicating as it is maddening—truthfully, heaven couldn’t compare.
He brings one hand up to your hair, fingers exploding until he reaches the back of your head and gives it a gentle tug. Your hiss in response and a shiver runs through him. His tongue soothes over the mark he’s left on your neck before he trails up toward your ear, lips lingering there, breath warm. 
“So do something about it,” he says, and his voice deepens with want, low and gruff, and he feels the way your thighs tense at the sound.
Your palms glide along his stomach towards his chest and you hastily try to free him from his shirt. And there it is again, the cold press of metal into his feverish skin. It’s like your touch is made of something—something that pulls the air from his lungs and with it, a muttered string of moans muffled by more kisses. 
He lifts his arms, letting you remove his shirt, but wastes no time sliding one hand back under your dress, the other rising to cup your cheek, pulling you closer. With you on his lap, Chenle has to tilt his head slightly to meet your gaze. His thumb brushes over your cheekbone, and your eyes flutter closed, the soft sigh escaping your lips drives him insane. 
Fuck, he loves you so much.
You look like an angel—his angel—as the light filtering through the curtains surrounds you, casting a soft glow that makes you seem otherworldly. Chenle can’t quite believe his luck, can’t fathom how he’s managed to strike gold, to reach Heaven, and have you here with him. He gets to touch you, no one else. 
He must have been a saint in a past life. 
He can’t help himself, his body urging him to lean up and press his lips to yours again. The kiss is soft, slow, and sweet, and you melt against him, body relaxing completely in his arms. Chenle could die like this—solely in your kiss. He’d die the happiest man on record, simply because he knows what it’s like to kiss you.
You smile against his lips—his favourite thing ever—and he nearly pouts when you pull back, ending the kiss. Your eyes meet his, pupils blown wide, eyelashes casting soft shadows against your flushed cheeks. Chenle’s mind takes a photograph. 
Your palm flattens against his chest, pushing him to lie flat on the bed. His eyes fall closed as you repay his earlier touch by pressing your lips to his jaw, your hand squeezing his bicep, and your hips moving above his again. His jeans feel unbearably tight now, and he can practically hear the smirk on your lips as your nimble fingers slip down his stomach, making quick work of his buckle.
He sighs your name, hands roaming the smooth expanse of your thighs before squeezing your ass when you decide to grind down on him. Your moans are quiet, gradually syncing with his, your fingers teasing at the waistband of his boxers, making his pulse race. 
“So fucking perfect,” he mewels in between kisses.
You practically melt into him, and Chenle takes the opportunity to wrap an arm around your waist to roll on top of you—just how he likes it. 
“Chenle.” 
You breathe heavily, hands clutching the hem of your dress, tugging at it desperately. The way you’re practically whining his name, those pretty full eyes begging him to take it off, makes him feel dizzy. He just needs you out of that dress.
So he does. When he finally pulls the dress off, he settles onto his knees between your slightly ajar legs, hands sliding up your sides, feeling every curve of your body. He leans down, pressing a deliberate kiss to the inside of one thigh, then the other, taking his time, savouring the way you hum beneath him.
Your hands tangle in his hair, your hips shifting as you silently beg him for more, and Chenle gets the hint—of course he does—but making you a wreck is one of his favourite hobbies. So, he only lets his breath ghost over the place you want him most, teasing you with soft kisses along the band of your underwear, knowing exactly how to torment you. 
Just because he’s realised he loves you doesn’t mean he doesn’t want to be a menace. In fact, it only makes him more determined to make you feel everything—each kiss, each touch, each teasing move a reminder that he’s completely and utterly consumed by you.
“Chenle, I…” Your words trail off into a gasp as his fingers trace the curve of your breast. 
“What, angel?” he asks, voice low again. 
He places a kiss into your hip bone, sucking a mark into the skin, and your fist tightens in his hair, the sensation making you pant.
“Mmh, I just—fuck, Lele—”
He cuts you off, his mouth moving down between your legs again, his tongue moving along the soft skin of your inner thigh, nose brushing against the edge of your panties, but never quite hitting where you want—need him to be. He nips, bites, and kisses his way along your skin, drawing soft moans from you until you can’t hold back anymore. You let your legs fall further apart, and he feels the subtle, rhythmic motion of your hips seeking friction.
So fucking cute, he thinks. 
And when he hears his name fall from your lips as a wanton whine, he groans, unable to hold back. His hand slips to your chest, thumb and forefinger teasing at your nipple. 
“Shit, Chenle, please,” you plead, and the desperation in your voice sends a jolt of heat straight to his cock.
He loves this—loves you—needy and desperate. The sound of your voice, the way you crave him, it has him straining in his jeans, and he no longer wants to tease. Not anymore.
One of his hands trails up the inside of your leg, from knee to inner thigh, slipping beneath your waistband. He can feel the heat radiating from you, even through the lacy layer still separating you.
“I want you,” you murmur lazily, and who is he to deny you anything? He’s never been good at it anyway.
Chenle’s fingers move quickly to pull your panties to the side, and he swipes one of his fingers through your folds—so wet—relishing in the way your breath catches and your chest heats the same way as your cheeks. 
He pulls away, allowing himself a moment to really look at you. You’re looking back at him with half-lidded eyes, chest rising and falling shakily, a thin sheen of sweat glistening on your skin. He’s hit gold—fucking gold.
He brushes a finger over your clit, drawing out a sharp noise from you that makes his cock twitch in his boxers. His lips drop to your skin, his teeth grazing your peaked nipple as he sucks it into his mouth.
A soft cry escapes as you arch up, and Chenle takes the opportunity to press a finger at your entrance, barely dipping in before pulling back. The tease leaves you tense, a whine slipping out when he returns to circling just outside.
His free hand grips your other nipple, pinching, pulling, and rubbing his thumb over it until you’re grinding against him, your fingers tangled in his hair, urging him down like the bossy girl he knows—and loves.
“Chenle, I need you,” you whimper, pushing him with a little more urgency.
He slides a finger inside you, twisting and curling it until a breathy curse slips from your lips in response, and to him, it feels like a reward.
“Need me?” he teases, curling his finger again. “You already have me angel.”
“Fuck, I—oh, do that again,” you beg.
He chuckles against your stomach, but still, he gives you exactly what you want. His thumb finding your clit, making your hand shoot up to your mouth to stifle the needy sounds you're making—that won't do.
Chenle releases your nipple, using his now free hand to tug your hand away from your lips, which are swollen from his earlier kisses. He waits until he hears you moaning again for him, loving the sound, before properly removing the last bit of fabric. You whimper at the sudden loss of his touch, but you eagerly lift your hips, legs slowly falling apart as he drags your panties off, until, finally—finally—you’re laid bare before him.
The sight of you laid out like this only reminds him of how much he loves having his head between your thighs, his mouth on your cunt. It’s funny, really—Chenle’s always been a selfish lover, but when it comes to you, he can’t get enough of giving.
So he slides his ring and middle finger deep inside your pussy. Pressing up against that spot which always makes you grip his hair. And to top it all off, he wraps his lips around your clit; you scream. It's the kind of scream that Chenle loves to hear when he's worshipping you with his fingers and tongue—so he can't help but moan into you. 
You clench around his fingers from the vibration of his moan, thighs trembling as they move to close around his head. But he’s quick, wrapping an arm around you, his hand gripping your thigh firmly to keep you open for him. Your taste fills his mouth, sweet and addictive, and he thinks he’d spend every moment of every day tasting you like this if you’d let him.
Because he loves making you cum. It’s a skill he’s mastered, one he’d probably show off if he wasn’t so possessive.
He knows that if he moves his fingers just right, he’ll draw a gasp and a sharp tug on his hair; if he circles his tongue slowly over your clit, you’ll press harder into his mouth. And if he pulls your clit between his lips, sucking with just the right amount of pressure whilst his tongue moves in tight circles and his fingers work against your g-spot, you’ll fall apart beneath him in seconds.
And you don’t disappoint.
Your breath catches, your stomach tightens, and your hands scramble for anything to hold—his shoulders, the sheets, his hair. Your legs try to close, but his hand keeps one pinned down, relentless as he keeps going. A broken sound slips from your lips, your back arching, head thrown back. You tremble beneath him, and he feels the warm gush of wetness against his fingers as the hand tangled in his hair tries to push him away.
You’re panting, choking out a string of his name and curses, and it’s easily Chenle’s favourite sound.
He pulls his mouth from you with an obscene pop, but keeps his fingers still and full inside you, leaving you gasping as you prop yourself up on your elbows, trying to catch your breath. Chenle presses a kiss to your lower stomach, looking up at you. You give him that sleepy, post-orgasm smile he loves so much.
“You’re so beautiful, Y/N,” he murmurs, sucking another mark into your skin.
He wants to see you fall apart again, to watch you sweat and tremble, be incoherent and glowing—but his dick is throbbing against the mattress, and he thinks he might actually combust if he doesn’t feel your warmth around him in the next few seconds.
You whine when he finally pulls his fingers from you slowly, and because it’s Chenle, he makes sure to brush his thumb over your clit one last time. Then, he quickly sheds his boxers and is back on top of you, his hips pressing against yours as his mouth eagerly finds your lips.
Your hand reaches down, wrapping around his length, and soft fingers start to move up and down. Your thumb rubs over his sensitive tip, spreading the bead of precum that’s gathered there, and his forehead falls against your shoulder, a low groan leaving his mouth.
You make him weak, his breath catching at the way your skin feels like fire against his, the way you fit against him like you were made for him—it’s more than just lust.
“I love you.”
It’s the first time he’s ever said it to a girlfriend, said it to you, and it makes him drop his head, kissing your bruised neck, embarrassment colouring his cheeks. The words echo in your own  ears, and you smile—not just at how cute he’s being, but because you know he means it. Your free hand taps his chin, tipping his head up to meet your gaze.
“I love you,” you say back, pressing a soft kiss to his lips, hand still working him. 
With the other, you drag a thumb against his cheek, over his lips, tugging at the bottom one down gently; he takes it in his mouth, eyes full of love as he swirls his tongue around it, and your hand tightens around him. 
Chenle grabs one of your legs, his hand gliding up the curve of your calf and thigh until he can bend it toward your chest, resting it on his shoulder. You guide him to your entrance, and without resistance, he’s sliding in—as he said—you were made for him.
He pushes until your hips are flush with his, groaning at the way you moan, pulling his chest down to yours. And when he finally decides to move, he takes his time and great pleasure in, teasing you with just his tip before pushing back in.
From there, he finds a steady rhythm—in and out, in and out. Reckless and rough. He uses the leg on his shoulder for leverage, hitting all the spots he knows make your breath hitch, eyes flutter, and name fall from your lips. Chenle’s hand drifts to your chest, his thumb brushing over one of your nipples, and you nod frantically up at him.
“Yes, please—oh fuck,” you whine as he pinches the sensitive skin, tugging gently.
He drops his head, watching himself disappear into you, and you clench around him. Your nails dig into his back as he keeps teasing your soft peaks, knowing exactly how to make you close again.
His hand moves to seek out your clit, his fingers drawing small circles across your sensitive bud. You let out a drawn-out, high-pitched cry and his thumb moves quicker, more desperate. With one more final, particularly hard, deep thrust, he feels you fluttering around him, and you’re pulling his head down to crash your lips to his. 
He works you through your orgasm, mumbling a muddled mix of your name and I love you and a string of curses into your mouth as you shudder under him. Starting from now, Chenle will pride himself on his restraint, because he has to force himself not to follow after you straight away. He wants to see you cum again—needs to hear, feel, and witness you unravel for him. He wants you like putty beneath him, several orgasms deep, blissed out and so fucking sensitive that every brush of his body against yours has you gasping out his name.
He presses his lips to yours one more time before slowly pulling out, the whimper you make beneath him making his heart race and his dick twitch. Your hands reach for him, but he grabs your hips, rolling you over, positioning you on your hands and knees. You look back at him over your shoulder—so fucking beautiful.
He really does love you.
He presses a kiss to the base of your spine, his hands gripping your hips. Inch by inch, he mouths his way up your back, squeezing your flesh with just enough pressure to leave red marks of his fingertips, but not enough to hurt.
He ruts against you, teasing your cunt as he refuses to thrust into you. You drop your head between your arms onto the pillow, mumbling something incoherent. He leans down, close enough to nip at your earlobe.
“I can’t hear you when your face is in the pillow, angel,” he coos, still only letting his hips grind.
You push back against him, needing more, and he digs his fingers into your hips a little harder. He reaches down, takes himself in his hand, and lines his cock up with your pussy, making you hum.
"I still can't hear you," he slides his tip over your clit, making your hips jerk. "Can you try repeating it for me, angel? Properly this time?"
He does it again, twice more, before you lift your head and plead with him.
"Shit, Lele, please. Oh my god, I—," Your words dissolve into a cry when he pushes into you, and you drop your head back down. "Fuck."
You move your hips back in a broken rhythm, trying to meet his thrusts. Your skin is slick with sweat, and you turn your head to look at him, breath coming out in desperate pants every time he fills you.
“Oh, oh, don’t—fuck—don’t stop. Don’t stop.”
He doesn’t. He wouldn’t. He couldn’t. 
“God, angel,” he grunts. “So fucking perfect for me.”
He gathers your hair, giving it a sharp tug that tilts your head back. Your hips move needily and quickly, and Chenle pulls you up by the waist, pressing your back flush against his chest. His fingers still hold your hair, and he tugs it, making you rest your head on his shoulder. Your lips find his, and you're babbling broken noises into his mouth.
Fuck, he’s so close, you feel so good wrapped around him. You know it too, tensing and trembling, and then collapsing against him, with your nerves on fire. Chenle holds you close and tight with him until he meets your orgasm with his own. Thrusting deep and roughly until he’s releasing spurts of cum inside you with a strangled groan of your name.
Chenle holds you intimately even after you've both come down, his hands rubbing gently up and down your sides. You’re breathing heavily, your body still quivering every so often. You struggle to keep your eyes open as he drops a small, sweet kiss to your lips. Your thumb brushes his cheek, and he kisses you again, then once more, just because he can.
“I love you, Y/N,” he whispers.
You smile up at him.  “I love you, Chenle.”
But he doesn’t just love you. The word doesn’t feel strong enough. He’s obsessed. Tormented by thoughts of you that go far beyond infatuation. He obsessively adores you—and you think, no, you know, you obsessively adore him too.
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basicallyjeankirschtein · 2 days ago
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Left On Read - Yuta x Reader SMAU
chap 9: but yuta. masterlist
yns pov
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for some reason, yuta blocking you hurt a million times worse than when you found out your best friends were shit talking you behind your back. why did he even block you? did you do something? or were you just that unlovable.
you knew your whole life you were never the first choice. your parents? they adored your straight A’s, well kept sibling. your sibling was always the center of attention and over years of sobbing over not being the perfect child for your parents like your sibling was, you stopped caring. your friends? well, that was pretty obvious. none of them ever invited you on their own accord. the only one of the three who was even willing to hang out one on one was nobara, and that was only when shopping was involved. you never said anything, never complained. maybe because deep down, you knew you were nothing to them, and you were okay with that. as long as people pretended to like you, you were happy.
but yuta, for the first time in your life was there somebody that didn’t pretend. he actually liked you, for you. it was strange. it was an addicting feeling.
but yuta, he was so welcoming. you were willing to be addicted. joining the groupchat made you feel like something, like someone. like finally people treated you like an equal. miwa was sweet, her boyfriend was a bit weird but friendly and welcoming. todo surely gave you a unique first impression, treating you like you were not just the first choice, but the only choice. noritoshi didn’t speak much, but he was funny and sweet to you. and of course, panda and toge helped you make these amazing friends, introducing and welcoming you.
but yuta, none of these amazing qualities and friendly personalities that made you feel so good about yourself, never once could they amount or compare to how he made you feel.
but yuta, losing him felt like you were losing apart of yourself. you didn’t want to be the second choice again. you acted like it didn’t bother you, but subconsciously, deep down, it really did. you always knew. you always wanted to cry and scream and break something, beg anyone to let you be important to them.
but yuta, he didn’t make you beg. he made you feel important the moment he direct messaged you that day. that day, you felt like something. you felt like finally, in this minuscule life you’ve been living, your life was important. you were important.
but yuta, hes left you.
you guess this was just some ironic prank played by the gods to ruin your life. you really were unlovable. that’s just the way you were made. you knew that, yet you still let yourself get hung up over some boy you barely knew.
-
ughhhhh this chapter hurt me i’m gonna play overwatch now and then yell at my computer and blame the tank for throwing the match when in fact i will be the one throwing
@shokosbunny @kalulakunundrum @tenthmilo @maddietries @genxnarumi @reiluvr @love-me-satoru @crystal-freak24 @gigiiiiislife @justmare @noomimi @thirtykiwis @luvsymai @nymphsdomain @jellyfishlord123 @blueballslock @frootloopscos @starsryi
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covenofagatha · 2 days ago
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But you're my stepmom! (Chapter 10)
Word count: 2600+
Warnings: oral, bathroom sex, strap-on, smut, mommy kink, little bit of angst at first
Author's note: so sorry this took so long to post lol things have been crazy
Taglist (hope I didn't miss anyone, and if I did, I'm so sorry!): @stayevildarling@i-just-cannot@hazey-g@buttercandy16@320viada@evilangels-stuff@rmaximoff@morganismspam23@aboutcustardcreams@sasheemo@rigglemethat@walkethisway@mommywandas@r-3-becca@harknessshi@ihaveawifebutwerenotmarriedyet@polaris-likethestar@ahintofchaos @dorabledewdroop @toomanylesbiancouples @accidentally-made-a-sideblog @chiar4anna @lonelyhalfwitch
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When you had found out your dad was cheating on your mom two years ago, you could feel the numbness seeping into every crack and crevice in your body. You remember looking at his phone while you two were watching a tv show and seeing the dirty texts he sent to a woman he used to work with. He was never very subtle about texting her, and you just had a feeling. Deep down, you knew what you were going to find. 
That didn’t mean it still didn't hurt. 
The betrayal, the anger, the sadness. They all rushed over you but you’re still not really sure if you actually felt any of it. You were in a daze for the rest of the day, the need to scream building in your throat gradually. 
You finally couldn’t take it anymore and you went for a run the next day, which is something you never would usually do. The thumping of your feet against the pavement sounded like why? why? why? Why would he do this? Why would he choose her over his family? You ran until it felt like your legs were on fire and your lungs were about to burst until you finally doubled over, bit down on your hand, and let the guttural scream claw its way out of you. Your teeth had broken your skin and you could still see the small white scar if you flexed your hand just right. 
After that, you locked the pain somewhere deep down inside you. You hadn’t even gotten to really confront him about it.
But when Agatha says that your dad is having an affair, you feel your stomach drop and somewhere, the buried feelings start begging to get free, rattling on the bars of their enclosure. 
“What?” You ask quietly, a lump growing in your throat as you crane your head up to look at her. Your hand on her stomach stalls. She has a distant look in her eyes. 
“Monday night after you left, your dad couldn’t find his phone so we were looking for it. I found it on the kitchen table while he was looking in his office and he had just gotten a text. I glanced at it and it was from a woman.” Agatha doesn’t continue, but you can only imagine what the text said. 
“I’m sorry,” you whisper, the lump getting bigger. You remember making that mean comment to her the first night you got dinner about him cheating again. 
She laughs ironically. “I guess I can’t be mad. I mean, look at us.”  
You glance up at her to meet her sardonic eyes. “Yeah, but look at who you cheated on versus who he did. I’m sure this other woman isn’t even half as hot as you are.” 
She softly smiles and then leans down to peck your lips with hers. “That’s sweet of you to say, honey.” 
“So what are you going to do?” 
She sighs deeply and starts gently tugging on the ends of your hair. “I don’t know. Confront him? Get a divorce? I’ve spent the last two days just trying to figure something out.” 
Her cold silence makes sense now. So does the way she fucked you earlier. 
You turn your head and press a kiss to her bare shoulder. “I’m sorry,” you repeat, because what else is there to say? “Is there anything I can do to help?” 
Her fingers tighten in your hair and they pull to tilt your head so you’re looking right at her. “I can think of something,” she says, a teasing lilt in her voice. 
“Oh, yeah?” Your eyebrow raises and she smirks with a daring nod. “Anything for my step-mother.” 
You kiss down her stomach, making sure to sink your teeth into her delectable abs and suck hard. She moans and arches her back off the bed. Soon enough, her midsection is littered with red marks and fuck, it’s hot. 
If your dad is too much of a fucking idiot to appreciate this woman, you’ll just have to take matters into your own hands. 
You settle between her thighs on the bed and slowly drag your tongue up the inside of her right thigh. A noise slips out from her lips and you do the same thing on the other side to hear it again. 
“Stop teasing, baby,” she warns in a low voice. She’s glistening. 
You chuckle and then lick up through her folds. She groans and raises her hips so you can get in closer. Your tongue swirls around her clit. 
“Fuck,” she swears under her breath. You begin to lap at her, heat growing between your own legs at the way her breath stutters and her thighs begin to shake. 
“Did he ever make you feel like this?” You ask, words garbled since your mouth is full of her cunt. But she rolls her hips on her face seemingly involuntarily, so you know she understood. 
“Never,” she says breathlessly and you pick up the pace, swirling and sucking, wanting her to feel good. 
She cums quickly and then she pulls you up into a deep kiss, tongue moving over yours to taste herself. 
“What does this mean for us?” You wonder aloud after she cleans your face and you both are cuddling again. If Agatha and your father get divorced, will this affair end? Will it become more?
“What do you want it to mean?” 
“I don’t know,” you say, because you don’t. “I like this, though.” 
She kisses your forehead and you can feel her smiling against you. “I do, too.” 
***
Dinner tonight with Agatha and I? is what your dad texts you the next day while you’re at school. You frown and quickly shoot Agatha a text about it. The two of you hadn’t spoken any more about what she was going to do about your father’s infidelity so you just want to be aware if you’re walking into a trap. You��re not sure you can take another dinner where your dad sits you down and tells you that he’s getting a divorce. 
Agatha responds that she hasn’t talked to him yet. You did know that he was away on business – although, that could just be code for having an affair – so he hasn’t been home. And you don’t think Agatha would be one to confront him over the phone. 
You text your dad back that you’ll be there. You’re curious to see what it’s about. 
The rest of the day passes quickly while you worry about what dinner could bring. You take a quick shower when you get home from school and put on a casual black dress. You don’t really care about looking nice for whatever restaurant you go to, you just want to look good for Agatha. Your mouth almost waters at the thought of whatever she will wear. She always manages to look ethereal. 
Your phone buzzes with a message from Agatha. Your father is meeting us at the restaurant. I’m outside. 
You can sense the tension radiating off the older woman the moment you step outside. She tersely watches you walk over to her car and slide into the passenger seat. Agatha’s wearing pants with a silky button down shirt and she looks hot. 
“Hey, baby,” she says, leaning over to press a kiss to your cheek. 
“You okay?” 
She grimaces and puts her sunglasses on. “I’ve barely talked to him since he left on his trip. He just asked if the three of us could get dinner.” 
Your brow furrows. “Are you going to say anything tonight?” 
Agatha purses her lips and reaches over to pat your leg. “I wouldn’t do that with you there. I’m not putting you in the middle of this.” 
Your heart warms because your mother did not hesitate to put you in the middle of her problems with your dad. She had broken almost every boundary and turned you into her therapist, and it now fills you with immense gratitude that Agatha won’t do that. 
Even though you are very much in the middle of it, with you and her having sex and all. 
“Thank you.” 
You both launch into small talk until you pull into the restaurant parking lot, where you see your dad waiting out front. Your stomach begins to sink just at the sight of him. 
You can’t believe he did it again. 
“Sweetheart, are you alright?” Agatha asks, voice tight with worry. She must see how you’re looking at him through the window. You’ve never opened up about your parents with her, but you can tell that she at least partly knows how you must be feeling. 
You clench your jaw and steel your nerves. “I’m good.” 
You try to not get angry when your dad’s face lights up at the sight of the two of you. 
“My favorite girls!” He booms and pulls you both into a hug. You can feel how tense Agatha is and you’re sure you feel the same. “How are we?”
“Good,” you mutter and Agatha says something along the lines of that as well. 
He made a reservation so you’re immediately led to a booth tucked in the back of the restaurant. You sit opposite your dad and Agatha doesn’t hesitate before sliding in next to you. 
“How was your trip?” Agatha asks, tone laced with something sharp like she’s trying to catch him in an act. 
Before he can answer, the waitress comes over. She looks a few years older than you, with brown hair and pretty blue eyes. Almost like a younger version of Agatha, you think. She takes your drink orders, her gaze lingering a bit too long on you as you ask for a sprite. 
You can see Agatha scowling at her out of the corner of your eye. 
Your dad starts talking about his work when she leaves but you suddenly lose all focus when Agatha slowly moves her hand to your thigh and grips it possessively. 
She clearly does not like the waitress, who comes back a few minutes later with your drinks. Fully aware of this, you reach out to take your sprite from the waitress and your fingers brush right in front of Agatha’s face.
Her nails dig into your leg and you subtly smirk at her. Her eyes have completely darkened. 
After everyone orders food, you excuse yourself to go to the bathroom. You’ve started throbbing from the tight hold Agatha has on you – both literally and figuratively – and you’re not sure you’ll last another minute without some relief. 
Just as you push open the door, someone grabs your wrist and shoves you inside. You gasp and whirl around, fear clenching your heart, only to find that it’s Agatha. 
She closes the door behind her and locks it. You’re so thankful it’s a single-person bathroom. 
Agatha advances and you step back until you hit the sink. 
“I know what you’re doing,” she hisses, trapping you against it by putting her hands on either side of you. 
“What do you mean, mommy?” You ask innocently, enjoying the way her dark eyes flash. Her hand comes up to wrap around your throat and a thrill runs through you. You’re sure you’re absolutely dripping now. 
“You were making eyes at that dirty waitress,” she accuses. “Looks like you need a reminder of who you belong to.” 
Before you can ask what she means, she flips you over so the sink is cutting into your hip bones and you can see the reflection of you both in the mirror. You look like a mess. And she looks like she is enjoying every bit of it. 
And then she grinds her front against you and you feel something hard in her pants. You watch your mouth fall open in the mirror. 
“You-” You don’t even have the words and the ache inside you is only getting worse. A smug smile spreads across her face as she reaches down to unzip her pants. Her other hand moves your underwear to the side, not even bothering to take it off.
She drags her strap-on up and down your slit, laughing cruelly at the way your hips move to try to get her inside. 
“Please,” you whine, feeling empty. 
She leans down so she can whisper in your ear, “Who do you belong to?” 
“You, mommy,” you say desperately and you let out a loud moan when she finally pushes into you.
“Be quiet,” she jeers and spanks you hard. You bite down on your lip to keep from moaning, but also to keep from telling her that spanking makes noise, too.
She sets a rough pace from the beginning, grabbing onto your hips with bruising force. You let out little gasps as she thrusts into you, over and over, already bringing you close to the edge. She reaches around you with one hand and starts rubbing your clit and your head falls forward in pleasure. 
Agatha pauses for a second so she can yank you back up by your hair. “Look at yourself,” she says, forcing you to watch yourself in the mirror. She resumes her fast pace. “Look at how well you’re taking my cock for me. Look at how much of a slut you are for me.” When she calls you a slut, you physically can’t stop the sound that comes out of your mouth. 
“Mommy, please,” you pant, your entire body feeling like a livewire. “Wanna cum.”
“Do you think a brat like you deserves to cum after making mommy jealous like that?” 
“M’sorry, mommy, I’ll be good,” you practically cry. You meet every thrust, eyes rolling back in your head from how perfect she feels. Your body is on edge from all the effort it’s taking to not cum. “Need to, so close.”
“Who do you belong to?” 
“You, only you,” you sob. 
“Good girl,” she says, pressing a kiss to the side of your neck. “Cum for me, sweetheart.” 
Two more thrusts and a rub of your clit and you cum all over her cock. It’s explosive and you bite on your lip so hard that you taste blood. She begins to slow down as you come back down to earth and you rest your head against the mirror to recover. 
Someone knocks on the door and you freeze since your step-mother is buried to the hilt inside of you at this current moment. 
But she just sweetly calls, “Occupied!” and you can’t help but laugh breathlessly. She pulls out of you and you wince. 
“Wow,” you say as she helps you clean up. “You know I wasn’t flirting with the waitress, right?” 
She smirks and pulls you in for a deep kiss. “I know, baby. I just couldn’t spend another minute listening to your dad talk.”
“Join the club.” 
You feel like everyone is watching the two of you as you make your way back to the table, but in reality, they’re not. Your dad is on his phone texting someone – you think you see a woman’s name at the top – but he quickly swipes out of it when he notices that you both have come back. You glance at Agatha just in time to see her eye twitching. 
“There you ladies are! I thought you had gotten lost. Everything okay?” He asks. You think you’re just imagining the condescending tone, but Agatha stiffens next to you so maybe not. 
“Actually yeah,” she says. “I’m filing for divorce.” You gape at her as she spins on her heel and walks away. 
You turn your head back to your dad, who looks back at you, dumbfounded. 
“Sweet pea-” he starts but you hold up your hand to cut him off. 
“No. Fuck you. You don’t deserve anyone.” 
And then you leave to follow Agatha, feeling suddenly like the weight inside you has finally lifted. 
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zyafics-recs · 2 days ago
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reblogging comment review from @zyafics
everytime i read this series i feel like im entering the battlefield 🚬😮‍💨my annotations below hehe ⬇️
It was unthinkable to be contemplating about gravestones. How could you sum up your family in limited words or dates, let alone choose a font for it?
ur writing has such PERSONALITY in it, i swear to god when i read this in beta, i was so in awe
Your first thought had been telling Topper, your only real family left, but he was as much Rafe’s as he was yours, and when it came down to it, he was still his best friend. Loyal to him since they were five, and jesus knows how he’d react if he found out about this. He’d most likely freak the fuck out and tell Rafe everything, thinking he was doing the right thing, or worse, letting it slip to Ruthie.
this parallels perfectly to the first chapter where topper called rafe when reader was leaving, so not only is this paragraph giving us an at-point breakdown, but it's referring evidence that topper would slip and tell rafe
It’s then you recognized how small your world was. How few people were truly yours.
their lives are so intertwined that reader doesn't know who to turn to when she needs independence 😭 oh curse rafe and his big dick
Today, it was just you, a few kids and teens dotted along the beach with oversized trash bags. It wasn’t even noon, but the sun felt like it was scorching you alive. It was laughable, really, standing under this blistering sun with a cheap trash bag and an endless stretch of sand to clean. 
this specific paragraph i wanted to highlight because i thought it was so descriptive and imaginative, but simplistic in a way that didn't feel like it was purple prose.
The kids were watching you again, with that look of curiosity. You couldn’t look them in the eye. It wasn’t their fault. They just didn’t understand that sometimes the grown-ups didn’t know what they were doing either. 
the last line EATS BITCH IT EATS
 “You should sit down.”
oh suck a dick
It was hard to believe the two of you had once burned hotter than any bonfire, two people who got under each other’s skin, in love, and in hate.
in love to hate omg
Instead, he narrowed his eyes, “You think I don’t know what fine looks like? I was there.”
THIS IS SO COLD BUT IT SHOWED HOW THEIR RELATIONSHIP IS SO WELL, HOW INTERTWINED THEY ARE WITH ONE ANOTHER
And the worst part? You could see that frustration in his eyes, the same look he used to give you when he’d reached his limit with you.You wondered if he ever got to that point with Sofia.
i would crashout
Sofia—the one who looked like she'd been ripped off from some perfect postcard, all wide-eyed sweetness and gentle smiles. She probably never challenged him, snapped back, or made him want to pull his hair out.
hm.
This was a version of you only Rafe could bring out.
they're so toxic and dynamic and i love them
Your chest hurt like you’d been run over a hundred times—it felt suffocating. “I hate you.”For the first time, you thought he might actually leave you here. 
that stopped me cold i had to write something in my diary
His fingers stopped as if your words had made an impact, his lips pressed into a thin line. Your vision blurred as he leaned in, his touch hovering as if to wipe away the tear running down your cheek, but he didn’t, instead, he closed his hand into a fist and drew back, his face just inches from yours. A faint, humorless smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he clicked the seatbelt into place. He made a low humming noise, that thing he did when he was getting ready to make someone feel two inches tall.  "Yeah? Get in line."
LISTEN LISTEN LISTEN I'M LISTENING TO BAD OMENS BY 5SOS AND IT'S AT THE BEATS AND WHILE I READ THIS, IT FITTED PERFECTLY OHMYGOD
Rafe drove fast, every rev of the engine matching the churning in your stomach perfectly. You sat there, trembling, the dread building with every mile that passed. You gripped the seatbelt so hard it felt like your entire body might go numb, and stared straight ahead, breathing shallow, trying to ignore the sting in your eyes.
i wanted to highlight this specific paragraph because i adore the writing, something about it made me feel every single atom of the scene
“Would you stop?” His voice softened for the first time, as if he was trying to reach some part of you that he thought still cared. “You look like you haven’t slept in days, like you haven’t eaten anything that wasn’t out of a vending machine. I know you don’t want my help, but can you just stop for a second and—”“And what?” you interrupted.“And think! If you don’t get in there, I’ll drag you in myself.”Your heart raced, “You wouldn’t dare.”Rafe stepped closer; his jaw set in determination. “Try me.”“You’re not coming in."He blinked like the idea hadn’t even occurred to him. “What?”
HE DIDN'T EXPECT THAT SHIT NO NO
“Yeah, I got someone.”
that's right baby tell em
💌 — ugh, something about this part has been so dynamic, in the way it's constructed, the way it flows so naturally, the way the dialogues are so emotionally-charged but bounces off one another seamlessly. it was like i was watching a perfectly-curated film, where the dialogues were performed by seasoned actors. i love love their arguments. i love how intense it always gets, how they have this push-pull against each other, this hate-love, this line they can't even comprehend nor define. and i love how you written it so beautifully, that you communicate the intensity and depth of this relationship but aggression, tension, and hurt.
LOVED YOU AT YOUR WORST - r.c series - FIVE
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pairings: ex!sweethearts; rafe x thornton!reader; rafe x sofia. chapter warnings: mention of pregnancy; abortion; lack of self-care
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You’ve had to make a lot of unfortunate decisions in your life.
Choosing a place for your entire family to rest for eternity, picking the caskets, the headstones—it felt like deciding which curtains to buy for the house, except you were burying your entire close family.
After the crash, your parents were gone instantly, just like that—no goodbyes, no warning, just there one moment and gone the next.
But your sister survived. Three days. You thought maybe that was a sign, she’d live despite everything, and you wouldn’t be left alone.
Two weeks later, the doctors told you it was time, but you couldn’t accept it. You held her hand, begging her to stay, telling her every promise you could think of if she opened her eyes.
When the monitors finally went flat, you couldn’t feel anything but desperation. Rafe had to pull you out of there, his arms locked around you while you kicked and screamed, sobbing and begging your sister not to go, not to leave you here.
You fought him with everything you had left, clawing, crying, pleading for just one more second. You were screaming so loud you didn’t even recognize your voice. Everything good had been ripped away from your hands, there was nothing left of the world you’d known.
After that, you remember sitting in some stuffy funeral home office, skimming through catalogs and hardly seeing the pages through your tears. The caskets all looked the same, the types of wood made no difference to you, fabric linings, all of it felt so wrong. 
None of it was a choice you should have to make. 
It was unthinkable to be contemplating about gravestones. How could you sum up your family in limited words or dates, let alone choose a font for it?
You just picked something neutral and blank, something that didn’t require thought or emotion because, by then, you had nothing left to give. 
Now you were trapped again, caught between a rock and a hard place.
Your first thought had been telling Topper, your only real family left, but he was as much Rafe’s as he was yours, and when it came down to it, he was still his best friend. Loyal to him since they were five, and jesus knows how he’d react if he found out about this. He’d most likely freak the fuck out and tell Rafe everything, thinking he was doing the right thing, or worse, letting it slip to Ruthie.
Ruthie—no chance you’d involve her. She’d just see this as another fucked up piece of gossip she could hold over your head, another way to judge or control you. She was “friend” only in the loosest sense of the word.
Kelce was the last person you’d consider turning to for something this serious. He has always been there, but you never got close. He was too much of an instigator, always pushing Rafe to do reckless things he’d regret later, peer pressuring him in ways that made you wonder if he even knew what loyalty meant. He had this weird loyalty to Ruthie, defending her comments as if she was some misunderstood angel when really, she was just… mean.
So that left Sarah. 
It felt weird, thinking of her as the person you’d call on for something so serious, she was the only one who felt… safe. She wouldn’t judge, wouldn’t pry, she’d seen what the worst kind of family conflict could do, and she’d keep this private, just for you.
It’s then you recognized how small your world was. How few people were truly yours.
You were pretty sure no one in this town would fully understand, they’d just offer their "advice," as if they knew you, seen what you’d been through. 
The truth was, they didn’t know shit. They hadn't seen you holding your sister’s hand, begging her to stay alive. They didn’t know what it was like to bury everything that made you feel like a person, like you belonged somewhere, and have to get up the next day like nothing happened.
Nine days, you would be halfway across the country, and you needed someone. You pictured saying it out loud: “I’m pregnant", just those two words, to someone’s face, you had no idea what to say next.
Maybe you’d tell them that it wasn’t about wanting it gone out of spite or shame, but because you couldn’t bring a child into a world where you felt this alone.
Earlier that morning, you’d stared down at your phone, thumb itching to click on Sarah’s name, like just pressing "call" could fix everything. You despised how needy it made you feel—reaching out, when you’d prided yourself on surviving alone. 
You didn’t have much time to ponder about it, because you were stuck at the beach cleanup.
Just like every other summer, another "social responsibility" event that your late father’s foundation insisted you smile through. Even back then, when they were alive, your summers were a carousel of charity galas, fundraisers, endless hours of small talk, and impeccably arranged seating charts.
The board members of the foundation probably thought it would “ground” you—remind you of your privilege, of your “responsibility” to give back. As if a couple of hours and a few bags of garbage would somehow balance the scales. They never seemed to understand how much of it was all for show, this shallow idea that if you looked the part, no one would care to learn more.
But, still, you’d show up. You always did. Smile, make just enough small talk to appease the right people. 
Today, it was just you, a few kids and teens dotted along the beach with oversized trash bags. It wasn’t even noon, but the sun felt like it was scorching you alive. It was laughable, really, standing under this blistering sun with a cheap trash bag and an endless stretch of sand to clean. 
Kie, who was so genuinely invested in this whole “save the planet” thing it was almost enviable was there too with JJ, who was running around her as usual, wearing his ‘I’m just here for the ride’ expression but enjoying himself. The love between them made you miss having someone who cared in ways that weren’t just calculated moves.
She waved at you from the shoreline, her eyes moving to the trash bag you were barely half-filling.
You weren’t friends, but if Sarah liked her, you did too.
You offered a faint smile back, tired, because between all the shit you’d been thinking about, you'd forgotten to eat, to drink anything, and every time you leaned down to grab another crumpled plastic bottle or a bit of seaweed-laden garbage, you felt like your legs were about to give out on you. 
Every now and then, she would throw a quick, appraising glance your way, like she was expecting you to miraculously become invested in the beach’s ecosystem.
You didn’t have it in you to pretend this was enjoyable today. The “effortless” philanthropy your family loved was a lifestyle you’d never bought into. It didn’t matter how many smiling photos of you had ended up on some charity’s social media—you knew you’d rather be anywhere else.
You had to take a break every few minutes, leaning against a pier post, trying to get yourself together as a few of the younger kids gave you wary glances. You could have left—probably should have.
You managed a tight-lipped smile, giving a thumbs-up that said, Just doing great over here, guys!
You were in a long t-shirt, which hung over your bikini and shorts, the fabric slightly oversized, to help hide what was still a small change in your body. Paranoia was your new best friend, always worrying that someone would notice something different, even if you didn’t have a noticeable bump yet.
Bending down to grab another plastic bottle, you felt a stab of nausea hit you hard, rolling up from your stomach, thick and sour, but you ignored it. Not here. Not now.
You straightened up too fast, and your vision blurred slightly, that familiar sense of vertigo hitting you. You took a shallow breath, ignoring the burn at the back of your throat, your hands shaking slightly as you adjusted the bag slung over your shoulder.
One girl looked up at you with these wide eyes kids like to pull, “Are you okay?” 
You smiled, brushing it off as if you weren’t about two seconds away from collapsing. “Of course. Just... need a second.” 
The kids were watching you again, with that look of curiosity. You couldn’t look them in the eye. It wasn’t their fault. They just didn’t understand that sometimes the grown-ups didn’t know what they were doing either. 
Just a few more bags of trash and you’d be able to get back to your car, maybe grab some water from the cooler in the trunk, sit down, and think about it.
This used to be easy, you got a weird kind of enjoyment from these cleanups, running around with your sister, making it a competition to see who could pick up the most trash, laughing until your stomachs hurt over stupid jokes about jellyfish and sunscreen. Back then, this was just one of a thousand little family traditions, one of those things that felt effortless.
Now, sweat dripped down the back of your neck, making your skin prickle uncomfortably.
You’d long given up wiping it away, knowing that it would only come back thicker and hotter the next second. Every instinct told you to run off to the parking lot, and sit in the car with the AC blasting until your body remembered it didn’t hate you.
Leaning down for one last bottle wedged in the sand, your legs wobbled and gave way beneath you. Just like that, your vision was spotty, as if someone had turned down the brightness on the entire beach, and you pitched forward.
Just as you felt yourself going down, a hand caught your arm, pulling you back up.
"Whoa, whoa, you okay?" A teenage boy, maybe sixteen, gripped your arm firmly, keeping you upright.
How much longer could they realistically expect you to go on, plastering on that sweet, dutiful smile? How much “grounding” could one person take?
You blinked, trying to clear the haze in your eyes, "I’m fine. Just a little lightheaded, really, it’s fine,” you insisted, but then a shadow loomed beside you. 
Your vision was so foggy that it took seconds for you to register it.
You looked up slowly, feeling a familiar drop in your stomach as you realized who it was.
The last time you’d been this close to him, the two of you had been screaming insults across the room, Lily having to physically step in. She’d forced him to leave before you two killed each other. It was a miracle you hadn’t punched him then and there.
 “You should sit down.”
It felt like a sidekick to your chest.
The sound of his voice was grinding on your nerves, and just like that you were stuck back in your dream, a real memory, leaning against him, his hand playing with a strand of your hair as he laughed at something you’d said, the two of you carefree under a golden sunset. 
Except this was real.
Rafe was shirtless, with his board tucked under one arm, surf wax staining his fingers, and the sun glinting off his damp skin, like he was God’s gift to the Outer Banks. His buzzed hair was dark and wet, droplets trailing down his temples and catching along his jawline. His cheeks were flushed, a little red from the heat.
You looked away, somewhere over his shoulder, anywhere but at him, refusing to let him see you in this fragile state.
“Go away. I’m fine.”
But he didn’t move.
He’d been summoned from your absolute worst memories, catching you at your lowest when you least wanted his help. Typical. 
“No,” he refused firmly, with that stupid, stubborn look that made you want to throw something at his head. “I’ve seen you almost fall three times now.”
“Maybe if you stopped looking at me like a creep, you wouldn’t have to see me ‘almost fall.”
“I wasn’t—"
You grounded your teeth, “Just go back to surfing.”
Rafe let out a dry laugh, shaking his head as if you were the one acting crazy. “Yeah, 'cause you look perfectly stable right now.”
He'd always been a master of the passive-aggressive half-sneer, the art of making you feel like everyone else was imposing on his day, no matter the situation.
“Don’t act like you care.” you snapped, voice carrying over the sand, earning a few glances from nearby kids.
He ran a hand over his face, looking around as if he didn’t want to be there any more than you did, mouth pressed into a tight line. You wanted to scream that this was his fault too, that every choice he’d made led to you standing here alone, exhausted, and terrified.
“Water would help, y’know”, his tone just shy of patronizing “You can’t go around dehydrating yourself just to make a point.”
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
Your fingers twitched with the urge to send him stumbling to the other side of the beach, you knew that any sudden movement would make you light-headed again, and the last thing you wanted was to give him more proof of your weakness.
The kid—still standing there, eyes wide and darting between you both—looked like he was watching a reality TV show when Kiara appeared at your side.
“Let’s not do this here,” she begged under her breath, handing you a bottle of water she’d brought over, a kindness you didn’t want but couldn’t reject. “Just sit down for a second, please?”
JJ followed, always with that air of easygoing nonchalance, but his eyes were serious as he glanced from you to Rafe.
“She’s right. Just take a second, yeah?” He looked over at Rafe, “Maybe you should leave,” he said pointedly.
“Maybe you should mind your fuckin’ business Maybank.”
“Look, uh,” the kid stammered, knowing he could get caught in the crossfire. “I’ll… I’ll go see if anyone needs help further down the beach…”
You waved him off, your focus still locked on Rafe as the kid all but bolted away, you didn’t want anyone to think they had to “rescue” you.
You tried to take a step back, but the little strength you had in you disappeared as you felt your knees wobble.
"Jesus," you heard him groan, and then his hands were on your arms, board on the sand, holding you as you stumbled. "I told you to sit down."
You shook his hands off, "Don’t tell me what to do.”
It was hard to believe the two of you had once burned hotter than any bonfire, two people who got under each other’s skin, in love, and in hate.
He let out an exasperated sigh while you took a sip from the water Kiara handed you, ignoring how your hands were still shaking around the bottle. 
She spoke again, trying to be the voice of reason, "We’re here to help the community, remember?"
JJ smirked, "Yeah, think the sea turtles are rooting for y’all to work out your issues somewhere else.”
You ignored his joke, keeping your eyes on Rafe, your pride and stubbornness refusing to let him win, “I’m fine.”
“Yeah?”
He looked you over, his gaze fixed to your warm cheeks and the dewy sheen across your temple, “You look real fine, don’t you?” He didn’t even try to cloak his sarcasm.
God, he could be so exasperating.
He couldn’t understand. How could he even think he could look at you now and know anything about who you were? Standing there, with that stupid board and that look, like he couldn’t imagine anything bothering him as much as this seemed to be bothering you.
As if he hadn’t already ruined you in so many ways that felt impossible to get over. 
“Don’t you have something better to do?” 
“Oh, believe me, I do,” he drawled, his eyes trailing from the waves back to you. 
You were tired of this game, of fighting him every time he showed up only to leave you feeling even emptier than before.
Your fists clenched, and you opened your mouth to hurl something back, but the dizziness hit you again. Before you could compose yourself, Rafe’s arm wrapped around your waist, strong and frustratingly secure, holding you upright with an ease that made your skin crawl.
He had seen you at your weakest, had been there at the hospital after the accident, keeping you together when you were certain you’d break. 
Yet, here you were, in a sick way, back in his arms, all broken apart.
“That’s it. I’m taking you to the hospital.”
“I hate to say it, but he’s right,” JJ chimed in, hand shielding his eyes from the sun.
The world alone had all kinds of alarms going off in your brain. You fought back instinctively, your hands pushing at his chest, freeing your arm. 
“I told you, I’m fine.”
He let go, but he didn’t back away.
Instead, he narrowed his eyes, “You think I don’t know what fine looks like? I was there.”
He was there. And you didn’t want to be reminded of it, not in front of other people. 
He meant the exhaustion and hunger pains you’d welcomed after your family was gone, embraced even, because it meant you wouldn’t have to feel anything else.
You’d wanted to disappear, and he’d been there—dragging you back, forcing you to drink water and swallow bites of food, even when you pushed him away. He’d seen you at your absolute lowest, where you didn’t care if you made it through the day. 
The thought of the hospital, tests, questions, you fought it, but your vision was already blurring.
You couldn’t let him find out about the baby. 
Your breathing felt tighter, each shallow breath only making the spinning worse, you could sense your body giving in to the exhaustion
“Shit,” you heard him curse, sounding distant now like he was farther away. 
You felt yourself sway as if the ground was opening beneath you, there was a ringing in your ears that made his voice sound muffled but you still felt his arms catching you again, holding you upright before you fell.
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Waking up in a moving vehicle was like emerging from a nightmare, except somehow, this was worse, because you were no longer at the beach. 
You blinked hard, desperate to wipe the fogginess in your eyes and when it did go away, you realized who was behind the wheel. 
Rafe. 
Your heart pounded—your desperation to keep the baby a secret, how you almost passed out at the beach, and the fact that now he was most likely driving you to the hospital.
“What the hell are you doing?” you practically screamed, your voice hoarse from the lack of water.
He didn’t spare you a glance, “You passed out, genius. I’m taking you to the hospital.”
Your whole body went rigid. “Are you insane?”
“Me?” He scoffed, as he kept his focus on the road. “You practically ate sand back there. You’re not fine.”
“Turn the car around. I’ll call my driver and be fine.” You huffed like he was too dumb to understand. “I don’t need your help.”
He let out a dry laugh, still not looking at you. 
“Yeah. You’re out of your mind if you think I’m letting you out of this car right now.”
“Rafe, I’m not kidding,” you warned, louder this time. “Stop. The. Car.”
He gave you a sideways glance, his grip on the wheel tightening.
“Not happening.”
Your heart hammered as you realized he wasn’t going to back down, you were driven by sheer desperation.
“Fine, then I’ll do it myself." you muttered, reaching for the door handle. 
Anything to get out of this suffocating car before he dragged you all the way to the ER and they found out you were pregnant—with his baby, no less.
His eyes widened, finally snapping from the road to your hand on the handle.
“Are you crazy? Get your hand off that, I’m fuckin' serious.”
You yanked at it anyway, twisting the handle and pulling with spiteful defiance, and Rafe’s expression went from annoyed to full-on rage. He swerved the car to the side of the road, tires skidding as he slammed the brakes and practically threw the car into park.
Before he could even stop fully, you flung the door open and stumbled out, sandals sinking into the gravel as you stalked away.
You didn’t get more than a few feet, he was already bolting after you.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” you muttered, digging your nails into your palms. 
How the hell had it come to this? You were stuck here, pregnant with his child, and he played the reluctant hero like you needed him swooping in to save you.
Rafe reached you in two strides, his fingers were digging into his forehead, pointing at it with exasperation imprinted into every corner of his face. 
“Are you out of your fuckin' mind?” He sounded like he was talking to some unruly child.
And the worst part? You could see that frustration in his eyes, the same look he used to give you when he’d reached his limit with you.
You wondered if he ever got to that point with Sofia.
What would he do if she was the one almost fainting? Would he still look like she was some colossal burden, or would he soften, maybe even smile as he fussed over her, acting like he wanted to help?
You hated yourself for caring at all.
Sofia—the one who looked like she'd been ripped off from some perfect postcard, all wide-eyed sweetness and gentle smiles. She probably never challenged him, snapped back, or made him want to pull his hair out.
There was no way he’d look at her like she was a mess, someone he just had to “deal with.” He likely saw her as easy, perfect, all soft and sweet words, everything you weren’t.
This wasn’t who you wanted to be, and yet here you were, stumbling around half-dead and pregnant with his child.
“I’m sorry, am I bothering you?” You spat the words, watching his jaw clench tighter. 
He exhaled sharply, rolling his eyes. 
“Unbelievable. Only you could take me trying to help and turn it into this.”
You were done. You were done with the memories, with the torment of seeing him be something better for someone else. 
“Help?” You laughed bitterly, the anger engulfing you so hard it felt as if it choking you. “You think this is help? That I need you, of all people?”
He took a step back, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “I'm trying to help."
You hated how calm he was, how rational he sounded.
It was maddening when all you wanted was for him to get angry, to let that icy surface crack, to give you even a glimpse of something real, something that wasn’t just irritation or sarcasm.
You wanted proof that he still was affected by you, that this was the same guy who used to be everything, who’d promised you everything.
But you swallowed it down, straightening up, because there was no way in hell, you’d let him see even a hint of weakness.
“Trust me,” you shot back, “I’ll be just fine without you.”
He raised an eyebrow, a bitter smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, “Get in the car.”
“No,” you said, firm and unyielding, every inch of you screaming that you wouldn’t let him decide anything for you ever again.
“Fine. Have it your way.”
In one swift move, he reached out, his hands gripping your arms with enough pressure to pull you forward, lifting you clean off your feet. Your breath caught in a furious gasp as he practically dragged you back to the car, his fingers warm against your skin, like you were just a mild convenience. 
“Put me down!” 
You struggled against his hold, jabbing at his chest with what little strength you could muster, but he didn’t even flinch, didn’t so much as hesitate. 
“Rafe, I swear—”
He opened the passenger door with one hand, keeping a firm grip on you with the other, before finally setting you down—not gently—onto the seat. Without meaning to, tears began falling as you struggled against his hands. You could feel them wetting your cheeks, your voice was breaking, jumping to distress as you tried to twist out of his hold, feeling so small under his unrelenting strength.
He almost knelt in front of you, reaching for the seat belt with one hand, while his other remained firmly on your shoulder, holding you still. You felt trapped, impresioned as you tried to turn in every direction, hands weakly pushing him back, but he caught them effortlessly.
“Stop!” you meekly choked out, failing to shove him, the words coming out shameful.
You could feel your heart breaking all over again.
You hated that he was seeing you like this, how he dared to act like you needed him—it made your skin crawl. You hated that he could do this, like he had any right like you’d ever wanted him involved in this part of your life, let alone now.
This was a version of you only Rafe could bring out.
You glared up at him, practically shaking with rage as Rafe ignored your protests like you were nothing more than a child throwing a fit. 
“Get your hands off me.”
His jaw tightened, ignoring the flailing punches and slaps grazing him, and you couldn’t stop the sob that escaped, loud and ugly.
“I’m not letting you kill yourself out of spite.”
Your chest hurt like you’d been run over a hundred times—it felt suffocating. “I hate you.”
For the first time, you thought he might actually leave you here. 
His fingers stopped as if your words had made an impact, his lips pressed into a thin line. Your vision blurred as he leaned in, his touch hovering as if to wipe away the tear running down your cheek, but he didn’t, instead, he closed his hand into a fist and drew back, his face just inches from yours. 
A faint, humorless smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he clicked the seatbelt into place. He made a low humming noise, that thing he did when he was getting ready to make someone feel two inches tall. 
 "Yeah? Get in line."
Without another word, he pulled back, slamming the door shut, and walking around to the driver’s side.
You wiped at your cheeks, furious that he’d seen you like this, that he had the power to break you down. It was humiliating, sitting here in his car, every part of your body screaming to escape. 
He got in, started the engine, neither of you spoke.
Rafe drove fast, every rev of the engine matching the churning in your stomach perfectly. You sat there, trembling, the dread building with every mile that passed. You gripped the seatbelt so hard it felt like your entire body might go numb, and stared straight ahead, breathing shallow, trying to ignore the sting in your eyes.
You bit back another wave of nausea. Weakness.
You’d already shown him too much. 
You didn’t need a lecture from some doctor on how you “should’ve taken better care of yourself", let alone with Rafe there, watching, scrutinizing, acting like this was his business when he’d made it clear long ago that it wasn’t. He was in your space in the worst way, reopening all the wounds.
You were seething. He had no right to do this.
The thought made you want to drop dead—doctor would walk in, casually drop the news about the baby, and you'd be left watching his reaction in real time.
You looked at the entrance to the ER. The vision of anyone running tests, of some well-meaning nurse, coming in and spilling everything about the baby in front of him—no way. You wouldn’t let that happen.
He wasted no time getting out, moving around to your side, while you sat rigidly, staring straight ahead. His hand was already on the door, yanking it open, looking down at you like he was ready to drag you inside if he had to.
You weren’t moving. You knew the second you stepped inside, it would be over. 
“C’mon,” Rafe pressed, his hand outstretched, hovering there like he thought he could compel you to listen. “Stop being so stubborn.”
You crossed your arms over your stomach, refusing to meet his eyes.
“I’m not going in.”
Rafe let out a sigh, nearing his limit, and knelt down to your level.
“Look, you passed out. I’m not leaving until you get checked out.”
“You’re gonna be here for a while then.”
“Would you stop?” His voice softened for the first time, as if he was trying to reach some part of you that he thought still cared. “You look like you haven’t slept in days, like you haven’t eaten anything that wasn’t out of a vending machine. I know you don’t want my help, but can you just stop for a second and—”
“And what?” you interrupted.
“And think! If you don’t get in there, I’ll drag you in myself.”
Your heart raced, “You wouldn’t dare.”
Rafe stepped closer; his jaw set in determination. “Try me.”
“You’re not coming in."
He blinked like the idea hadn’t even occurred to him. “What?”
Maybe he was seeing the protection you’d built up around yourself since he left, how there was no longer any crack left open for him to slip through.
“I don’t need you. I don’t want you in there.”
“Fine.” His tone was clipped, restrained. “But I’ll be right here.”
You slammed the door shut behind you, not letting him your legs still shaking. You’d rather collapse face-first into the concrete than give him the satisfaction of listening to him. 
“Yeah, you do that,” you replied, turning and walking toward the entrance, refusing to look back.
Stepping inside, you felt a slight tremor run through you—part relief, part panic. The lights were too bright, almost white. Your heart wobbled, replaying how he’d been such a fucking asshole to you.
You’d forgotten how mean he could be, how easily he could go from angry to something so frigid it made you want to cry yourself to sleep.
“Hi there,” The receptionist greeted, her eyes moving over you with a professional once-over, “What brings you in today?”
You forced a small smile, knowing she wouldn’t buy it.
“Just…got a little dehydrated, that’s all.”
“Okay…let’s just get some basic information.” She clicked into her computer, her fingers poised over the keyboard. “Name?”
You cleared your throat, rattling off your full name, she nodded, typing it in.
“Have you experienced any other symptoms besides dizziness?”
“Nothing serious,” you replied, dismissively. “It’s just the heat, like I said. I just need some water and I’ll be good as new.”
This had to be a fucking nightmare you got sucked in, you could sense your blood pressure spike.
She tapped her screen and glanced back at you.
“Alright, Miss Thornton, it looks like we’ll just need a few quick details here to get you all checked in. Can I start with your insurance provider?”
A chuckle almost slipped out of you. Insurance—God, you were fine with insurance. What you weren’t okay with was everything else. You answered, “Blue Cross.”
She asked for your birthdate, which you gave on autopilot, hoping she’d skip any weird or invasive questions. “Any allergies?”
You shook your head. Please, just let this be over. 
“It’s really not a big deal,” You blurted out, giving her a thin smile and forcing calm into your voice. “I just need the IV. You know, standard stuff.”
“Of course, dear. We’ll get things started, it will include routine tests, like bloodwork, just to be safe.”
Bloodwork. Perfect. You were doing everything you could to keep from falling into that spiraling panic mode. 
Please, just get me in, get me out, and don’t find anything.
“Just head down to Room 12.”
All you could think was that you wanted this to be over—before the whole town, or worse, he, found out. It made you want to scream. He was the last person who should be outside.
This was his fault. You’d never be here if he hadn’t shown up.
The next hour passed in seconds—questions, forms, an IV drip.
They’d done blood work, too, but you’d sighed in relief when they’d told you the results wouldn’t be ready immediately. As far as they knew, you’d just overdone it, and now, as you lay on a cot in a room that reeked of sick people, all they’d prescribed was rest, hydration, and food.
When the nurse asked if anyone could pick you up, the thought of calling someone, asking them to see you like this, made you delirious. You didn’t need anyone; you were perfectly fine on your own.
But you also didn’t want Rafe and his delusional ass to barge through the doors.
The nurse moved around you awkwardly, eyes still expectant, as if you were just a button away from a reliable “someone” to come running.
You looked at her, controlling the compulsion to yell. Little people ever bothered to check on you, to show up for more than just the drama or gossip.
Out of them, only one face bounced around in your head.
“Yeah, I got someone.”
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y3sterdaysproblem · 1 day ago
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smoke and mirrors - chris sturniolo
chapter two
summary: your best friend Matt backs out of plans you had made together, so you replace him with his brother. the only problem is the two of you can’t stand each other.
{enemies to lovers, fake dating}
includes : explicit language, fluff, smut(penetration, oral, fingering, etc.), angst if you squint, lots of bickering, slow burn
wc: 2.5k
-
part one
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“Like this?”
“No! Like… move your hips over.”
“Chris, this feels wrong!”
“Yeah, because it’s you! Come on, just come here for the picture.”
You groan and scoot closer to Chris on the bed, slinging your leg over his hips. He was laid flat on his back and you were on your side facing him. You guys had agreed on pretending to be each others’ significant others for a short amount of time, and right now you were trying to get all the pictures you could. This was the third photo position you guys had gotten yourselves into, each one getting more intimate than the last. Your mindset was, the more pictures you took at once, the less you’d have to spend time together.
“Okay, take your picture,” you tell him, throwing your arm over his torso and looking up at him.
Chris looks down at you, your faces inches away from each other. “God, you’re so impatient. Don’t you just wanna cuddle like this for a minute?” He smirks a little before grabbing his phone with his left hand, placing his right hand on your bare thigh, snapping the picture like that.
“Okay, good. Now, uh… I don’t think you’re gonna like this next one,” Chris pushes your leg off of him and you sit up, peering down at him.
“Fuck you,” you say harshly. “What now?”
He smiles and pats his lap, and your jaw drops. “No,” you shake your head. “No way, I’m not getting on your lap.”
Chris groans. “I am not going to get hard at the thought of you on top of me if that’s what you’re worried about,” he promises.
“Yeah, well, you already think I’m hot so I don’t know,” you tell him, disgusted. “Can’t we do something else?”
Chris reaches out and pinches the back of your arm, clearly unamused. “Dude, I didn’t say I personally think you’re hot, I said you’re hotter than this chick. Big difference. Besides, I’m hot, too, and you know it, so come on, sit on daddy’s lap.”
You grimace at his word choice. “That just made me want to do it even less,” you say, but despite your words, you scoot closer until you’re next to him, then swing your leg over him and sit on his lap, your crotch sitting directly above his dick.
“See?” He smiles, reaching out to place a hand on your thigh again, even though the camera wasn’t out yet. “This isn’t so bad, right?”
You can’t help it when your throat goes dry at the feeling of his hand on your leg, and he was partially right. Matt was attractive, Nick was attractive, and unfortunately the short end of the stick with that reality was that Chris was also attractive, though you’d never say those words out loud.
You snap out of it quickly and grab your own phone to distract yourself, but Chris reaches up and grabs your phone out of your hands, putting it on the bed next to him. “Gotta look interested in me, baby,” he coos.
You groan and cross your arms, body shaking slightly as you did so, making Chris suck in a quiet breath. “Don’t call me baby, we’re not actually together.”
“Stop wiggling, yeah?” He asks you, hand on your thigh gripping tighter than it was before.
You raise your eyebrows at him, staring down with a clear attitude present on your face. “I thought you would be fine and not get hard.” You mocked him.
Chris meets your eyes. “I said I wouldn’t get hard at the thought of you but you keep moving around and I only have so much self control.”
You cringe, focusing your attention on your lower half where you no doubt start to feel the beginnings of an erection forming where your bodies met. “Can you hurry please?”
Chris picks his phone back up and opens his camera, but couldn’t resist the nasty comment that sat on his tongue, begging to be spoken. “Maybe I just wanna feel you a little longer.”
Your jaw drops, face heating up uncontrollably. “Chris!”
Chris rolls his eyes at your aggressive tone. “Just kidding, jeez. Here, put your hands here.” He pulls up the hoodie to make it look like he’s shirtless and then grabs your hands, placing them both on his stomach so you’re leaning over him, your cleavage peeking through the neckline of your shirt. With the angle change and your weight shifted onto your hands, part of you wanted to tease him, and you had no idea what was coming over you in the moment, probably just the fact that you hadn’t been in this position in so long and you were craving the attention and validation of a man, wanting to feel someone fall apart underneath you, but you quickly remind yourself who you’re dealing with when he speaks again. “Oh perfect,” he says, holding his phone up to take the picture. “That’s definitely going in my spank bank.”
“Ew, Chris!” You screech at him, smacking him on the head before standing up off the bed completely. “We’re done for right now, you’re insanely gross.”
Chris laughs at you and pulls his hoodie down, sitting up on the bed. He moved quickly, but you caught on to the quick dip of his hand in his sweatpants, clearly waistbanding his dick, but you don’t mention it and he sure as hell doesn’t either. “I’m just messing with you,” he says.
“Yeah well I’m over it,” you huff, crossing your arms again.
“Alright, get out of my room then,” Chris points to the door, and you happily oblige, leaving his room and heading up the stairs, making your way to Matt’s room where you find him sitting at his desk playing games and Nick laid on the bed playing on his phone.
Matt turns his head and smiles at you. “Hey, love. How’s being Chris’s girlfriend going?”
You groan loudly and drag your hands down your face. “Fucking terrible!” You cry. “He’s so pervy and gross and just awful to be around. I don’t know how you guys deal with him all day every day.”
Nick laughs in response. “We actually like him and he likes us.”
You shudder and grab the blankets from underneath your body, shimmying under them. “I’m taking a nap, hopefully that’ll cleanse me from the objectification I’ve endured.”
Both the boys laugh at you and go back to what they’re doing as you get comfortable and close your eyes.
Before you dozed off you found yourself wondering what things would be like if Chris wasn’t so annoying and how life would be if the two of you got along. Would you guys actually stand a chance at being in a relationship? Would either of you have feelings for each other that weren’t so negative? You’ve never thought about these possibilities before, and though it scared you slightly, you brushed it aside and let yourself drift off to sleep.
-
The four of you sat around the kitchen table later that night eating Italian food that Matt had gone and picked up, and the room was silent apart from the chewing noises that filled the air. You know the food is good if everyone is quiet you always say. But unfortunately, the sweet silence is interrupted by Chris clearing his throat and setting his fork down.
“So,” he starts, looking towards you. “I’m thinking we go on a date.”
You almost choke on your food, eyes widening. “What?!” You yell, mouth still full of food.
“Ew, swallow first. And yes, but not a real date, obviously. My idea is you can go to a fancy restaurant with Matt or something and he can take pictures of you looking all dressed up and just send them to me.” Chris suggests, and it’s not the worst idea in the world. Free dinner in a nice restaurant with your best friend? Sounds like a win win to you.
“You should’ve led with that, fuckface. Almost made me choke,” you tell him with furrowed eyebrows, wiping your mouth with your napkin.
“I typically do make women choke,” he replies with a smirk.
Everyone at the table groans in disgust at his dirty comment. “Too much,” Nick says loudly, waving his hands in the air.
Chris just laughs. “So is that a yes?”
You look at Matt and he shrugs his shoulders. “I’m fine with it,” he tells you, and you nod your head in agreement.
“Great!” Chris smiles, clapping his hands together. “I’ll make reservations for you guys and let you know when it is.”
You guys both nod and go back to eating your dinner.
After everyone was done eating, you guys migrated to the couch, where you ended up sandwiched between Matt and Chris, though Chris left a decent amount of space as opposed to Matt who sat nearly hip to hip with you.
“What are we watching?” You ask, grabbing a blanket off the back of the couch and throwing it over yours and Matt’s body.
“Get a room,” Chris grumbles, looking over at you and Matt snuggled up under the blanket.
You look towards him and smile. “If you wanna cuddle with me just say that,” you tease, kicking your feet up onto his lap.
He instantly shoves your legs off of him and scoots farther away from you. “Gross, get your feet off of me. You wish I wanted to cuddle with you, slut.”
Matt and Nick both whip their head up to look at Chris, and he immediately drops his head down towards his lap, knowing he fucked up. “Chris,” Matt spits. “Too fucking far, apologize or get the fuck out.”
“Matt, it’s fine,” you tell him, tucking your legs close to your body. Chris had never really gone that far, but you weren’t super surprised by the words he said, though it stung a little bit.
“No, it isn’t. I get you guys have your little arguments but that’s not okay,” Matt tells him again, voice as stern as the first time.
Chris sighs and picks his head back up, but only focuses on the tv in front of him, still not playing anything. “Sorry, didn’t mean to call you a slut.” He mumbles.
You just nod your head and look over at Nick and then look up at Matt. “Can we just put something on please?”
They agree and start scrolling through the streaming services, trying to find something to put on.
If you tried to think about it, you never really could pinpoint the exact moment you and Chris started acting like this, it just kind of became your guys’ normal. You’d all known each other since high school, and you clicked with Nick and Matt instantly, and you always thought Chris would come around, but he never did and your relationship never got any better. The more you hung around, the more hostile your relationship got, and the more you adapted.
It started as teasing, a “shut up” here, a “you’re so annoying” there, but as you guys continued to see each other, it just got meaner and meaner, and you’re so used to it now that you can’t imagine life without it, which is why it was so hard to imagine how he was going to act at this wedding when he had to pretend he didn’t hate you.
You guys ended up just putting on a movie you’d never seen, some chick flick rom com that only you and Nick were interested in, so you weren’t surprised when Matt and Chris grabbed their phones and started their endless scroll, until Chris looked up and over towards you.
“Hey,” he starts quietly, and you turn your head to look at him. “Can you, uh.. can you come take a picture with me? She’s texting me right now and thinks I’m lying about you. Which I guess I am, but, whatever. Just for a second?”
You think about it for a couple of moments, not really sure if cuddling up with Chris in front of his brothers is something you necessarily want to do right now, but you also don’t want to ruin the deal you two had made with each other, so you lightly nod your head and remove the blanket that covered you and Matt, scooting closer to Chris.
“How do you want to do this?” You asked him, and he just patted his leg.
“Just put your legs over mine and scoot real close, that’ll be fine. I can snap it really quick,” he says, and you oblige, scooting a bit closer than before and swinging both of your legs over one of his, draped over his thigh. You leaned your body into his, and he placed his hand on your thigh, tucked between both of your legs.
“Good?” You ask, eyes flitting up over his face. He nods and lifts his phone up to take a photo, taking a couple before looks over at you and reaches your gaze.
He takes a deep breath while staring at you, hand still resting on your thigh. “I’m sorry,” he says, voice low so his brothers couldn’t hear, but it was so quiet you almost didn’t hear him. “I really didn’t mean to call you that, it just slipped out.”
You’re shocked at the fact that he offered an actual apology, considering the fact that he’d never said sorry unless his brothers had told him to, so something about this felt a little bit more genuine than usual.
You offer him a tight lipped smile and nod your head. “I forgive you,” you tell him just as quietly.
He pulls his hand out from your thighs and taps your leg lightly. “Good, now go back to cozying up with my brother before I throw up.”
You laugh and do as he says, moving away from him and back towards Matt, who smiles sweetly at you, taking up the same position as you had with Chris, placing the blanket back over you both.
As you sat there and watched the movie, you couldn’t help but steal a few glances towards Chris, watching as he played with his lip with his free hand while he scrolled, or how he giggled to himself every time he saw a video that he found cute. The way he peeked up at the tv every so often to see what was happening, then went back on his phone to pretend he wasn’t interested in the cheesy movie.
What you were completely clueless to, though, was the way he did the same thing to you, watching as you laughed along with Nick, or how you cuddled closer into his brother, his hand rubbing your arm sweetly and habitually. He even watched the way your eyes started to flutter towards the end of the movie, clearly too tired to head home, just like most nights.
Maybe you weren’t that bad or annoying, but he was so deep in it now that he felt he could never turn back, never admit that maybe one day he’d like to be close to you like you were to his brothers. He had no idea that you’d take him up on that offer in a heartbeat.
-
a/n: part two!!! thanks for all the love on part one!!
taglist
@liiixsturniolos @madelinesturn @st6niolo @mattslolita @ifwdominicfike @sophand4n4 @chris-hallelujah @sophsturns @ariana2saucyy @045696 @m-sgirl @scorpioosworld @byhrxb @vickytaa @taelovesmattsturniolo @secret-sturniolo @theboredknightcat-blog @slvtf0rchr1s @flouqissss @gabri3la-sturns @delilahsturniolo @starstrucktyrantinfluencer @vanillsstuff @avasturniolos @hornyformatt @sturnlsstuff
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wikiangela · 3 days ago
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you're my happily ever after (so i'll take my chance now, risk it all somehow)
rating: G
words: 2.6k
8x06 fix-it, because I'm pissed - I or my fics aren't going anywhere tho <3
thank you to @evansboyfrend for beta reading, ily 🫶
[also on Ao3]
It feels like the whole world is crumbling down. It feels like the Earth should shake, burst on fire, open up and swallow everything around. As dramatic as it is, he kind of expects it to happen, and it’s weird that he’s still sitting here. His ears are ringing, panic rising in his chest with each of Tommy’s words. He watches Tommy get up and head for the door, and he’s frozen to his spot. It’s not- it can’t be. It fucking can’t be. “Wait,” he finally manages to say, trying to keep his voice from trembling, “did you just break up with me?” He asks, hoping to any entity that listens that he just misinterpreted it, that he got it wrong. Because- because he can’t lose Tommy. He’s falling for him so fast and so hard. He’s ready for the next step. He’s ready to move in together. He’s ready to talk about one day, eventually, maybe getting married. He knows he wants that. He knows what he wants, and he wants Tommy.  “Yeah, I guess I did.” Tommy answers, glancing back at him, his expression sad but firm. But Buck knows him. Knows that this mask will crumble into something devastated as soon as he leaves. That Tommy’s heart will shatter, just as Buck’s is right now. He can see through Tommy, he knows that he cares about Buck. It just- it doesn’t make sense. What was he even talking about… It was all so much, so fast, Buck’s brain is still scrambling trying to understand it all.  “Believe me, I didn’t see-” Tommy starts, but Buck shakes his head and interrupts him. “No.” He stands up, his legs feeling shaky. Tommy fully turns towards him, confusion in his face. “What do you mean, ‘no’?” He frowns.
“I mean, no, you’re not breaking up with me.” Buck says more confidently than he feels. Because this can’t be it. The last six months, the best six months of his fucking life, can’t end like this. Can’t end at all. He won’t have this. “I know you care about me. And I care about you. And I don’t want to break up.” He sees Tommy open his mouth to speak, his expression hardening – putting on a mask again, trying to hide the hurt. He speaks again before Tommy can. “If you truly, genuinely want this, not because you think it’s gonna be better for me or you, but because you don’t want to be with me, fine, I can respect that. But I won’t accept it without a fight. I- I wanna fight for us, Tommy.” Buck steps closer to him, hoping that Tommy doesn’t step back, that might just break him. He doesn’t, he’s stuck in place, sad eyes on Buck’s. “Let me fight for us. You-” he adds quickly, on a roll now, not wanting Tommy to interrupt until after he’s done, after he’s said his piece. He needs to say it all now, let Tommy know how he feels. He can’t watch him leave without trying to fix it first. Tommy’s looking at him intently, just listening, not even trying to speak. “You gave me a second chance once, when I fucked up our first date, and I- I want to believe it wasn’t for nothing. So- so you’re my first man, so what?” Buck throws his hands up in frustration, he thinks he’s starting to sound a little frantic, speaking faster and faster. He just can’t let Tommy leave without him knowing exactly how Buck feels. “It’s far from my first relationship ever. Why- why is it so different just because you’re a man? It shouldn’t be. I don’t need to date other people, experiment or whatever else. I’ve dated people, slept around, did it all. I know how that goes, how it feels, and I don’t want to do it again. I know what I want, Tommy. And I want you. And don’t you dare tell me how I feel.” He feels anger seep in, Tommy’s words ringing in his head. What the actual fuck was he thinking? “I’m a grown man, I know how I feel. Yeah, it’s new and exciting, but it’s also real. It’s real to me, and- and if there’s any chance of forever, I want to take it. And-” he takes a breath. He feels like he’s been speaking in one breath, feeling a little lightheaded now, his heart hammering. Or maybe that’s just the panic. “And don’t start with the whole ‘I’m not your last’ bullshit.” He shakes his head again, tears welling up in his eyes, anger still building. Really, what in the world? How could Tommy want to just throw away the most wonderful relationship that’s happened to Buck in years? Maybe ever? “You don’t know that. I don’t know that. Yeah, we could break up one day. But you could also be my forever, and I could be yours. I’d love a chance to find out, even if it hurts in the end. But maybe that’s just me. Maybe I’m the only one here brave enough to risk it. And- and what about my heart, huh?” Tears are threatening to spill, his voice shaking now, with sadness and anger, and desperation. He can’t let him go, he can’t. “You said I’d break your heart eventually. But this, right now? This is you breaking mine.” He finishes, almost panting now, his monologue taking the wind out of him, wanting to say everything on his mind, in his heart. He hopes he got his point across. 
“Evan.” Tommy just whispers, with a pained expression. There are tears in his eyes, too, one lone one slipping through, falling down his cheek. Buck’s hand itches to reach out and wipe it off, but he’s not sure if he’s allowed to anymore. 
“Give us a chance, Tommy. Let us fight for this. Fight for me, for us. Fight with me.” He’s aware he sounds like he’s begging at this point, but he doesn’t care. This is too important. “I thought it’s been so good between us lately-”
“It has!” Tommy rushes to say. “It’s been amazing. You make me so happy. That’s why I’m scared, I just- I’m sorry, Evan, but I can’t let myself get hurt like this again. Because I- I’ve been there before, and it was hard to get back up, and with you- I don’t think I’d be able to ever recover from this one.” He admits, his stone-faced facade crumbling, and Buck can see his own feelings reflected in Tommy’s expression. Sad, devastated, heartbroken. 
“We can- we can take some time apart.” Buck says around a lump in his throat. He feels like he can’t breathe. All he wants is to rewind until before he dropped the moving in bomb which must be what made Tommy freak out. He could say anything else, and take it slower, and maybe they’d be on their way out right now, a date night like they planned. “If that’s what you need. A break. But not for good. And then let’s come back to it clear-headed, knowing for sure what we want. And if you still want to break up, I- I’ll respect that. But I already know what I want,” he repeats firmly, decisively. “I want a future with you. I want to move in together, and one day down the line get married, and- and I want it all with you. We can slow down if I’m rushing this. I tend to do that, and if it’s scaring you, I’m sorry.” He adds, not wanting to backtrack any of this, but aware of how intense he’s coming off. He’s never been more serious about anything in his life. “But the past six months have been the best in my life. I’ve never felt so happy, so free, so comfortable, so safe. And I’m not giving up on you, Tommy. I will fight for you until I can’t anymore, until you tell me that you don’t care about me and I should just fuck off.”
“Evan. You know I’ll never say that.” Tommy responds quietly.
“I know. Because I’m confident in us, in the fact that you do care, and you do want me. I know that.” Buck emphasizes, and realizes, not for the first time, that he never felt like this before. This secure. This confident about someone wanting him. “I also know you’re just trying to protect yourself, your heart, and I get it. But I can’t let you go without a fight. I won’t. I messed up a lot in my life, and I won’t mess up this. I refuse to. Because I-” he takes a sharp breath, the words pressing on his lips. He doesn’t want to say it for the first time in a possible break up, a moment of such anger and devastation. But he needs to put it all out there. Needs Tommy to understand how much he’s trying to throw away right now. “I love you, Tommy.” He confesses, sees Tommy’s face melt into the saddest expression Buck’s ever seen on anyone, tears spilling freely now. Both of theirs, he realizes, feeling wetness on his cheeks. “I’ve been falling for you a little bit more with each day we spend together, with each minute. And I know- I hope you feel the same. But if you can look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t-” he swallows thickly, the thought alone is too much to bear. 
“I can’t do that.” Tommy interrupts quickly. “Of course I love you, Evan. It happened so quickly it kind of scared me a little.” 
“I noticed.” Buck says dryly, and Tommy lets out a humorless chuckle. “If you ask me, which you didn’t, by the way, you decided for both of us, which was an asshole move,” he points out, and Tommy looks away, as if ashamed. Good. Buck loves him, which means he’s gonna call out when he’s acting shitty. “I’d rather give us a real try and get my heart shattered if it comes to this, instead of always wondering what if, always wondering if you’re my one who got away. Which you would be.”
“I’m sorry.” He shakes his head, takes a step towards Buck, now just half a step away. “I’m sorry, maybe breaking up is too hasty. Impulsive,” he scoffs at himself, probably remembering how he called Buck that just a few minutes ago. Well, so maybe they’re both a little impulsive. Not a problem, in Buck’s opinion. “I don’t- I don’t want to break up. I never want to be away from you.” He says, his voice barely above a whisper. His hand flinches at his side, like he wants to reach out, grab Buck’s, touch him. Buck hopes he does. “It just- it seemed too fast. Like you got wrapped up in the moment. It’s still so new, I thought we were taking it one step at a time, and I didn’t-” he takes a deep breath, as if bracing himself, and Buck knows what he says is going to sting – and it does, it feels like a gut punch, actually, “I didn’t think you were as serious about this as I was getting. And I realize we should’ve done the mature thing and talked it out. I’m sorry. It’s just, we’ve barely talked about any future here. But I want it, of course I do. I’m just- I’m scared. My heart has never been in this much danger.” He looks into Buck’s eyes as he says it, more vulnerable than ever. This is everything Buck wants right now, for them to talk, to discuss this, to try fixing it, instead of one of them running away and the other giving up and not fighting for it. Buck’s been there, he doesn’t want a repeat.
“Tommy.” Buck is the one to close the distance between them, carefully brings his hands up to cup Tommy’s face, giving him a chance to back away, but he doesn’t. Instead, he breathes out a sigh of relief, like he craved Buck’s touch as much as Buck craves his. “You remember when I told you I wanted something with you? Even though I didn’t know what that something was yet?” he asks and Tommy nods slightly, Buck’s palms still resting on his cheeks. “I’ve been serious about you since that precise moment. About pursuing this, and wanting some kind of future with you. I know I tend to rush into things, it’s been a problem before.” He huffs a self-deprecating laugh. “I tried not to do that with you, but I failed, clearly. I just think from now on, we both should stay and talk and try to work it out if we have any issues with something. If you still want me.” He adds a little anxiously, but relaxed when he feels Tommy’s palms settle on his hips.
“Of course I want you, Evan. I always will.” Tommy says, that loving look in his eyes, that always makes Buck’s heart melt a little. That look that Buck loves so much, that made him think that Tommy might feel the same way.
“Good. Like I said, I’m not letting you go. Ever.” He says decisively, a huge weight that’s been there since the topic even started finally lifting off his chest. This might be the best thing that’s ever happened to him, and no matter the conclusion – which he’s pretty sure will be the happily ever after he’s always craved – it’s worth the risk, it’s worth everything.
“Good.” Tommy echoes, that gorgeous, scrunchy smile of his slowly spreading on his face, and it’s like sunshine came out from behind stormy clouds. “I don’t intend on letting you go, either. I love you, sweetheart. And I’m so sorry for… for this mess. For overreacting.”
“That’s fine, we’re past this- well, actually, we are gonna talk about it more, but at least we’re on the same page now, I hope.” Buck says, slowly leaning in. “I love you so much. I never want to lose you.”
“I’m sorry.” Tommy says again, and Buck just wants him to stop saying it. It’s fine, they’re fine now. “You won’t. You have me for as long as you want. I promise.”
“What if I want you forever?” Buck whispers, his face so close to Tommy's, their lips almost brush. It sends a shiver down his spine, like he hasn’t kissed him in days, when they just exchanged a quick kiss hello a few minutes ago.
“That works for me.” Tommy smiles again, and finally dives in for a kiss, but it lasts barely a second before he’s pulling away, Buck trying to follow. Tommy chuckles, running a comforting hand up and down Buck’s side. “But maybe let’s put a pause on the whole moving in together thing, huh? At least until we fully talk everything through.”
“Yeah, good idea.” Buck nods, his gaze flickering between Tommy’s eyes, now sparkling happily, and his pretty, kissable lips. It feels so good to be able to just have a mature conversation and resolve whatever issues arise. If they keep doing that, he thinks they’re going to be okay. He’ll make sure of that. “No need to be impulsive,” he adds, his lips twisting into a teasing smirk.
“Okay.” Tommy chuckles quietly, his cheeks reddening. “Just kiss me.” 
Buck doesn’t need to be told twice. He kisses Tommy like he means it, like he’s his person, like he’s the love of his life, trying to put all those emotions into a kiss. He knows for sure he’s getting the same intent back. And at this moment, in his kitchen, narrowly avoiding losing his love because of a stupid reason, he decides it. One day, not too quickly, but not too far into the future, he’s going to ask Tommy Kinard to marry him. And he’s more than sure of the response he’ll get.
[also on Ao3]
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kizzer55555 · 15 hours ago
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Alternative idea. They are chasing Danny ‘the betrayer’ down and as they follow the leads and clues and leftovers of where he’s been, they start slowly piecing together the mystery of who Danny is and why he’s doing this. And they find out just how deep the betrayal went. Because it was the Justice league that made the first move.
They finally catch up with him and he’s decoding something and he just snaps at them to leave him alone. He’s cold, not even acknowledging at them, this is nothing like the Danny they knew. They try to talk to him and when that doesn't work it breaks out into a battle. But Danny knows all their moves and weaknesses and they don’t know the first thing about his limits. He’s ruthless and efficient, not showing the barest hint of emotion on his face like this battle against his ‘friends’ means nothing to him. He doesn’t even have to reveal his powers. And once they are all completly immobile he whispers “I never wanted to hurt you.” Someone scoffs. “You have a funny way of showing that.” Danny rolls his eyes. “It’s your own fault. You really should have seen this coming.”
“Oh really?” A hero speaks, venom dripping with every word. “Is it really that easy to betray your friends? To betray the ones you trust?”
Danny just laughs without any emotion behind it. “Trust? Nah, I never trusted you. Let me tell you something, when my home town was invaded, we called the Justice league. But they never came. When we were besieged every. Single. Day. By monsters and demons and entitled government agents that had no regard for casualties, they never came. Do you know what it’s like? To always have to look at the sky in case something comes down a snatch you? To hide behind a trash can or alley wall and pray that skin peeling cyborg will pass you by? To be scared of the very food you eat wondering if it was poisoned or the meat was going to attack you? To wake up realize no one is moving and wonder if your friends and family will ever wake up again? We called over and over but they never came. So we had to find our own way to fight back. We had to build weapons to protect ourselves and our children. We had to fight tooth and nail just to make it to tommorow and finally, finally we figured out a system. We managed to push them back enough to breathe. And it was only then that your people arrived.
You abandoned my town to face their death. You took me from my home. You locked up my family and tortured them.” By now, Danny was screaming and crying. His eyes looked absolutely devastated. “How…can you possibly ask me to trust you after that?”
Danny doesn’t even explain himself and his reasoning. That’s how little he thinks of the heroes. He doesn’t care if what they think he’s doing is right or wrong or if it’s justified. Some think he’s doing some sort of master plan to take over the world rather than just rescuing his parents which makes even more devastating to them when they find out what he’s actually doing.
It’s a race against time and by the end, Waller launches a strike against the heroes and it ends up being Danny that built a counter solution to the anti super weapons. He still doesn’t care about them but he was a protector at heart. He always will be. He just didn’t need someone’s ‘permission’ to do so. When he finally frees his parents (possibly dragging in the help of his classmates for a break out) they stand and Waller says that they’ve lost as they are surrounded, no weapons, and all the heroes/former villains powerless because of machines specifically designed against them. And that’ when Danny looks her right in the eyes and says that there’s one thing he forgot to mention.
He has powers too.
Danny held up a large sign from the background like a man at an airport as thier leader, Robin, gave his report to this "Justice League". The first sign said, "Help! I'm surrounded by daddy issues!" Earning a laugh from someone off camera. He then pulled the next card out from behind the first one.
"Can you send air fresheners? It smells like teen angst in here"
This one got a cackle from someone on the Justice League side of things. Score. No one here really wants to laugh. They're all edgelords and Danny is suffering. He didn't really want to be here, but things in Amity had ended in a way he never expected.
Both he and his parents had been arrested.
Not by his worlds government, mind you, but by the government of another Earth. This Earth that he was currently on to be more accurate. Who knew that so much of the stuff he and his parents had been doing was super illegal and wouldn't ya know it? He was in the middle of doing something really sketchy looking in his parents lab when the feds busted in.
Thankfully, the Justice League presented him with a deal: they take him out of Juvie and the reformation program he was in, and in return, he joins a team of former teen/child villains and anti-heros.
Figuring he had nothing to lose at this point he agreed.
He was not expecting to be surrounded by angry angsty teens. His fault really. He should have known better. Thankfully it seems like nobody knows about Phantom and he'd like to keep it that way.
Psaro was his calm in the storm. The other boy was proud and almost as arrogant as Robin, but he had been proven to be very kind and reliable. If Danny ever needed advice or if Robin was getting a bit too much, he could just knock of Psaros door.
The last time Robin had a fit and was starting a fight with someone, Mr. Pointy ears stepped up and told Robin that his outburst was undignified, especially for someone of a higher class like Robin seems to be presenting himself as. He also said something about there being a big difference between a king and a tyrant, but Danny had been trying to rush Robin's victim to the medway and didn't hear all of the convo.
Psaro was some kind of half demon prince who was also from another world. He didn't have a superhero name yet, but the program was brand new, and to be fair, Danny didn't officially have one either.
Some lady called Raven was supposed to be coming in to help Psaro and convince him to embrace his human half and help him with magic and...something about a curse? What did Danny get himself into???
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justmeinadaze · 1 day ago
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November Rain (Boxer!Eddie X Plus Size Y/N)
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A/N: I dreamed about this idea and my time of the month fueled it.
Please Enjoy <3
Warnings: Older (Early to Mid 30s) Dominate Boxer Eddie X Plus Size Fem younger (early to mid 20s) sub Y/N, SMUT, Daddy kink (because Im me), light spanking, big dick Eddie Munson :P, etc.
ANGST, reader meets the boxer while on a date with someone else, mentions of pain from the ring but nothing too dramatic, reader and Eddie mentions just getting out of relationships, nothing negative is mentioned about Y/N size <3. All positive and Eddie thinks she's perfect :). CLIFFHANGER ENDING 😈
Word Count: 4753
Other Eddie Stories here/ Donate to Me
"When I look into your eyes
I can see a love restrained
But darlin' when I hold you
Don't you know I feel the same?"
“Paige, I hate you. This guy is the worst.”
“Oh, he’s not that bad! Lol. Where did he take you?”
“A boxing match.”
“NO! Lol. Oh my god. I hate boxing and how the fuck are you supposed to talk there?”
“He’s taking me to a bar after.”
“Text me when you get home so I know you’re not dead :P.”
“Love you to, dork.”
“Who are you talking to?”, your blind date asks as he lightly nudges you with his shoulder. 
“Paige. I’m just telling her how nice you are and that you haven’t murdered me yet.”
“Ha! Well, the night’s still young.”, he laughed causing your eyebrows to furrow in confusion, not out of fear but annoyance that he thought that was the appropriate thing to say to someone he only met an hour ago.
When your friend and roommate suggested you go on this blind date you originally declined. You had just gotten out of a 2-year relationship and wasn’t in the mood to dive back in. After a couple of lonely (and needy) nights, you changed your tune. 
She insisted he was a nice guy she knew from work and he absolutely was but it didn’t overshadow his awkward personality. When he suggested coming to a boxing match, you were actually intrigued thinking it was an out of the box idea instead of going to the movies or dinner. As the small arena began to fill, you found yourself more fascinated by the people around you casually talking about one of the fighters. 
Eddie Munson was a “veteran” in the field, being a bit older than most boxers in the ring. He had won multiple matches but for whatever reason managers and venues didn’t take him seriously. The kid he was fighting had many accolades and higher stats but his wins matched his opponents from the pamphlet you skimmed through while you two waited. 
As the lights lowered and both men were introduced into the ring, you couldn’t help but focus on the older boxer. He was extremely handsome with his sharp jaw and intense, piercing eyes that commanded attention. His chest and muscular arms were littered with tattoos that accented his physique perfectly.  
With all the cheering and commotion around the ring, you were surprised when his eyes landed on you. He tried to look away but you noticed his gaze kept lingering back to where you were sitting. Trying not to appear intimidated, you smirked his way and leaned back in your seat where your date’s arm was strewn along the back. The boxer slowly took you in, scanning along the short sleeve black dress that clung tightly to your busty chest and large curves. Your high heeled shoe absently tapped the air as he glanced down your legs and back up to your face. 
Someone you assumed was his coach, tapped his shoulder and forced him to focus as he screamed instruction into his ear. Rising to his feet, the person took his robe before he headed for the middle of the ring. On his short stride, his gaze shifted towards you again making your smile grow as you silently mouth the words “Good Luck.”
Eddie jumps slightly as the announcer’s voice flows loudly near him startling him as you giggle and he shakes his head.
***
“Yeah so I do contracting at this firm and it’s so stupid but…”
You don’t know if your date notices but your eyes had begun to glaze over as he spoke. Your date seemed like a nice enough guy but was definitely not your cup of tea. The one thing you feared about dating again was mundane shit that came with casual conversation. You always wished you could skip over this part and get to the moment where you were comfortable again. 
“I feel like I’m droning on and on. Tell me about you.”
“Oh…um…there’s not much to tell really.”
“Of course there is. Tell me about your job, your family, everything!”, he chuckles a bit too enthusiastically as you try to hide your cringe behind your smile. 
“Excuse me, miss. Telephone for you.”, the bartender interrupts as he points at his phone near the end of the counter.
“Oh, thank you. Excuse me.”
After hopping down from your stool, you make your way to the telephone and put it to your ear.
“Hello?”
“I thought maybe I’d give you a minute of peace from chatty Cathy.”, the smooth voice on the other end laughs. 
“Hm. How do you know I wasn’t enjoying the chat?”, you ask as your eyes fleet around the bar.
“Well first off, you were way too eager to get away. I mean you didn’t even ask who was calling. Add in the fact that your face is worth a thousand words, sweetheart.”
It takes you another few seconds before you find your mystery caller leaning against the wall by the front door on his cell phone. The long-haired boxer’s grin grew when your eyes met his as his subtly waved his fingers in your direction. 
“Wanna get out of here?”
“I’m in the middle of date. I can’t just leave.”, you tease knowing full well you’d let him kidnap you if that meant leaving this date behind.
“There’s only so long you can keep up this rouse before he starts getting suspicious so I would make a decision quickly.”
“Pfft, his brain doesn’t move that fast.”
The man’s laugh echoed into your ear straight to your heart as you blushed, glad that you had the ability to make someone laugh like he just had. 
“Honey, a woman as beautiful as you in that sexy dress shouldn’t be bored out of her mind. She should be having her mind blown.”
“And you’re the man to do that?”
“I’d like to try if you give me the chance. I have a feeling you’re not easy to please like all these other giggly girls and I like a challenge.”
“Smooth, Mr. Munson.”, you giggle.
“Ah, so you were there to see me fight.”
“No, sir. It was just a happy accident.”
“Ooooo sir. I like that. You can just call me Eddie for right now though.”
“I prefer the term Daddy.”
It was no longer subtle that the two of you were staring at each other from across the bar. His breathing stutter slightly and you bit your bottom lip to force them to remain still even though you wanted to smirk his way. 
“Y/N? Everything alright?”, your date asked as he placed himself in the chair next to where you were standing. 
“Y/N.”, Eddie repeated as if he was trying to familiarize himself with your name. When you didn’t reply, your date’s palm reaches out to slide down your arm and take your hand in his. “I’m counting every second he touches you. That’s how many times I’m going spank you for allowing it.”
A tear runs down your cheek and you see regret flash through his eyes, worried he may have gone too far before he sees you hang up the phone and pull your hand from your date’s grasp. 
“I have to go. My brother was in-in an accident.”, you cry as you make a beeline to where the boxer was standing near the coat check desk. “Excuse me.”, you murmur as your arm brushes chest, the contact sending a little electricity through you both. 
“No problem.”, he mumbles as he turns to leave, making sure the back of his hand grazes yours as he does. 
“Do you want me to drive you—”
“No, no its ok. My sister lives close by so she’s going to pick me up. She’s the one that called.”
“Ok, well, let me at least wait with you.”
“Alright. You pay and I’ll wait outside.”
After he nods, you sprint outside to find Eddie sitting on a motorcycle offering you a helmet. 
“Really?”, you sass as you take it from his hand and slide it onto your head. 
“Psh like you don’t like it.”
Revving the engine, you cling to his waist as he drives off into the night.
***
Your eyebrow raises as pulls up to a gym and sifts through his pockets to search for his keys. 
“Yeah, um, welcome to my humble abode for the time being.”
“You live in a gym?”
“I live in the back of a gym. Big difference.”
“Oh absolutely.”, you jest as you allow him to lead you inside. “I would figure with how good of a fighter you are, you’d have Rocky 4 levels of riches.”
Again, he cackles as he throws his head back and in that moment, you started to realize you would do anything to continue hearing that sound. 
“I don’t think I’ve ever heard someone from your generation mention such an old movie.”
“It’s not that old and neither are you.”
“Well, aren’t you sweet.”, he smiles as he opens another door in the back and gestures you inside. “I kind of started boxing a bit late in the game compared to everyone else around me. Some of these kids have been doing it their whole lives and I only started training 10 years ago.”
As you take in his little room, Eddie heads to his mini fridge to grab a couple of beers. You could tell, he hadn’t been here long, living out of a suitcase for the time being. 
“How long are you stuck here?”
“I actually just got an apartment so I move in, in about a month.”
“What happened to your last place?”
Eddie smiles as he hands you one of the bottles in his hand. 
“You ask a lot of questions.”
“I’m inquisitive.”, you smirk back as tilt the beer to clink with his before taking a sip. “I need to know if this is where you take your hookups to hide from your wife.”
“What makes you think I’m married?”
“Huh.”, you muse as you take a seat on his couch/bed. “Most men would immediately deny. ‘Oh, no, baby! I’m not married. I swear.’”
The boxer rushes forward as you speak to hastily move his sheets and pillow on to another chair before taking a seat beside you. 
“I’m, um, no I’m not married.”, he chuckles nervously. “Full transparency, I actually just got out of relationship so if I seem…awkward…that’s why.”
“I think you’re doing alright.”, you smile as you turn to face him getting more comfortable and he does the same. “Better than chatty Cathy.”
Again, he laughs and again you swoon. 
“If it makes you feel better I just got out of a two-year relationship myself.”
“I’m sorry, sweetheart. How long has it been?”
“A few months.”
“Geez and you’re already dating?” When you don’t laugh like he does, Eddie panics as you sip your beverage. “No, that came out wrong. I just meant that you’re doing better than me. It’s been a year since I’ve even seen my ex and dating hadn’t even crossed my mind. Fuck, I sound like an idiot.”
Your giggle pierces his heart and he melts in relief. 
“No, you don’t. May I ask what made you find the confidence to ask me over?”
“I saw you from the ring and thought you were a fucking angel I’d never see again. When I walked into the bar and saw you, I knew I couldn’t let the opportunity slip away.”
“Wow. Smooth again, Mr. Munson.”
“I thought you preferred Daddy.” You blushed as your head dipped, trying to hide your eyes but his callused fingers quickly reached out to grab your chin forcing you to look at him again. “This…This goes without saying but you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. We can just talk or—”
Your lips on his interrupted his gentlemanly speech before tilting back slightly so your mouth wasn’t far but you could still see his face. 
“Do I make you nervous, Daddy?”
“Fuuuuuuuck.”, Eddie whispers as both palms cup your cheeks. “I don’t want t-to disappoint you.”
Slowly, you crawl over him till your straddling his lap and take hold of his hands to guide them to your wide hips.
“You won’t, baby, but if this isn’t something you’re into—”
“No, no, no. I’m into it.”, he rushes making you giggle as his face flushes with embarrassment at his earnestness. “My ex wasn’t… she tried for me a couple of times but...”
“You never really fully got to take control?”
“I told you it’s been a while since I’ve dated but it’s been even longer since I was able to be Daddy.”
“Sounds lonely.” His head tilts to the side at your statement as his brows furrow. “People don’t understand it but when I’m in my little girl headspace I feel safe when I’m with the right partner. It’s natural for me sometimes when I’m intimate to slip into that mode and if I was with someone who couldn’t satisfy that… I would feel lonely…like I did something wrong.”
When your eyes meet his again, Eddie’s smiling up at you with a softness you appreciate. 
“Thank you for coming to my TED talk.”
His body shakes as he laughs and you feel the energy in the room lighten. 
Comfortable.
Bringing your lips to his, he reciprocates with more confidence.
“Take your time and ease back into it.”, you whisper. 
You continue to grind against him as you murmur soft words in his ear and his hands roam your back. Gripping the bottom of your dress, he lifts it up your body and groans as his eyes hungrily take you in. 
“Fuck, you’re so fucking sexy.” Smirking, you slide off him, your eyes never leaving his as you remove your panties and toss them at his chest. “Leave your shoes on and crawl to Daddy, baby.”
Your pussy clenches at his words, his confidence in the title starting to return. Sinking to your knees, you do as he says making him groan as he unbuckles his belt and pushes his pants to his ankles allowing his cock to spring free. 
As he spits into his hand and strokes himself, you pause. 
“Jesus. You’re so fucking big.”
“Hey.”, Eddie growls causing your head to snap at attention. “Watch your mouth.”
“I’m sorry, Daddy. I’ve just…” You continue to crawl forward till your hands balance on his knees. “…never had a dick as big as yours inside me. I-I don’t know if it will fit.”
“Shit. It’ll fit, pretty girl. We’ll make it fit. You just have to get it nice and wet.”
After nodding in agreement, he hisses as your hand wraps around him and the tip of your tongue darts out to lick the little beads of precum that had begun to leak out.
“Goddamn it, Y/N.”
Opening your mouth wide, you test the waters and bob your head taking half of him as you allow your tongue to swirl around his head along his slit. 
“T-That’s it, baby.”, Eddie pants as he pulls your hair into a makeshift ponytail to get a better look at you’re doing. “Good girl. Your mouth feels so…so good. Try and take more, sweetheart.”
You do as he asks and promptly gag as your throat constricts around him. 
“Fuck! That’s it. Take it, baby. Choke on Daddy’s cock. Let m-me help.” Holding you tightly, you allow him to use you as he thrusts his hips and his dick hits the back of your throat. “There we go. Mouth open, flat tongue. So fucking beautiful taking my dick like this.”
Tears spill, smearing your make up as he lets you go and you take in big gulps of air. Grasping your cheeks, he kisses your lips as his thumbs wipe away the stains under your eyes. 
“Such a good girl… so good for me. I should have asked but do you have a safe word? Is Red still a good one?”
Eddie smiles as you breathily laugh and give him a peck before climbing up his lap to straddle him again. 
“Red is still good.”
“Turn around, sweetheart.”
After doing what he says, your whole body melts into his slightly sweaty chest as his arms wrap around you. Gripping the base of his shaft, you shutter as he slides his cock between your folds, teasing your clit with his tip. 
“You’re so wet, little girl, fuck. Are you ready for Daddy, baby?”
“Yes. Please.” Lifting your hips to help guide him, the boxer begins to gradually push himself inside of you. “Oh…f-fuck…”
“Are you ok?”, he whispers in your ear as you fully fall back against him. 
“Yeah, yeah. It…feels so good…so big. Mmnah!”, you whine as he slowly thrusts in another inch stretching you open. 
“You’re doing so good for me, Y/N. Take your time.  We have all night, honey.” 
Your half lidded eyes watch as he runs his tongue along his fingers before bringing them down to massage circles against your clit, feeling your pussy flutter and allowing him more leeway as you both groan feeling your lap finally connect with his. 
“You’re—mmph—so fucking tight.”
Experimentally, you roll your hips and the moan that leaves his lips has your eyes rolling as you do it again. You know his fingers gripping your love handles will leave bruises as he starts to guide you but you don’t care as you suck hickies into his neck, smiling at the vibration as he groans. 
“Bounce, pretty girl. Fuck me hard.”
Balancing your hands on his knees, your head lulls forward as you bounce on top of him, mewling repetitive ahs as he slams into that sensitive spot inside you. His palm comes down hard on your ass as he continues to knead his fingers into the plump flesh. 
“God, I can’t get over how fucking sexy you are. Cum for Daddy, sweetheart. Make—fuck—make yourself cum on my cock.”
Falling back against him, his wide lust filled eyes watch as one of your arms comes around to cling to the back of his neck as your other brings your hand to massage your breast. Eddie had never met a woman like you before and was pretty sure he would never meet again. 
Even with his ex, she used to be pretty open minded but never seemed to carry the kind of confidence you did. He knew when he saw you from the ring that you were different but he had promised himself he would focus on his career for the time being before jumping into anything new relationship wise. 
But how could he let you walk out that door tomorrow morning and let you go?
Your body trembled against him and he grunted as your cunt gripped his cock as you came. You rode out your high and the feeling made him almost feral as he picked you up to move you both the floor.
With his hand firmly holding the back of your neck smushing your cheek into the floor, Eddie thrust into you with rough abandon as you fell apart beneath him. 
“Oh my Goooooood. So fucking deep.”
Twisting his hand to curl his fingers in your hair, he yanked you closer to his chest and slowed his pace but not his intensity as his skin slapped obscenely into yours.
“Does my dick feel good, sweetheart?”
“Yeeeeesss—mmmah!”
“Tell me. Tell Daddy how much this tight little pussy loves my cock.”
“Y-Your cock feels so good, Daddy. My pussy was made for you.” As you spoke, his forehead rested against your cheek as his eyes shut and he found his rhythm again. “I want to feel you cum inside me, baby please.”
His eyes snapped open as he scanned your face realizing immediately you were telling the truth. 
“Don’t—Don’t say shit like that, little girl, unless you mean it.”
“P-P-Please, Daddy. I promise I’m safe. I need you to fill me up. I need to feel how good my pussy made you feel.”
“Goddamn it.”, Eddie grunted, pulling out and aggressively flipping you over onto your back before guiding himself back inside you. 
Your legs promptly wrapped around his waist and he pounded into you knowing he wasn’t going to last much longer. 
“Just like that, Daddy. I’m—fuck—M’gonna cum again. Cum with me.”
Balancing on his palms, his chocolate irises took in all of your beautiful features as they contorted in pleasure. It had been so long since he made a woman feel this good and he desperately wanted to please you. Your palms massaged along his slightly sore arms and his chest, gliding effortlessly over his bruises that were beginning to form from his fight earlier that night. 
None of that mattered. 
Every ache and pain he carried from the ring, disappeared as soon as you touched him and all he could focus on was the warmth that was you. 
“You’re so beautiful, sweetheart. I’ll give you what you want.”
Circling your arms around him, you pulled him against your body, needing to absorb him as he rolled his hips, grunting in your ear till you felt his release warm you deeper than any man you had before. The whine Eddie made as his fingers clung to your hair was enough to have the coil snap for the final time that night as your pussy tried to milk everything he had to give. 
You both laid there together silently intertwined for a good long while as you tried to catch your breaths. 
“Are you ok?”, you whisper.
Pushing up onto his elbows, his hand moves some stray hairs away from your sweaty face as he softly smiles down at you. 
“Yeah, baby, I’m good. Are you alright?”
“Yeah, a little sore.”, you answer as your eyes gesture between your bodies. 
“Shit, ok, um, I’ll go slow. Ready?” When you nodded, as gently as he could, he pulled out of your aching cunt, cooing praise at you as you winced. “Good. Good girl. We, um, I don’t have a shower in here but there are locker rooms with showers if you want or we can stay here of course.”
“I’d like to shower, please.”
The way you said please told him you were still coming down from that headspace causing your words to echo in his brain about how lonely it can be being stuck there and not being taken care of properly. 
Rising to his feet, he hastily helped you to yours before taking you in his arms and caring you to the locker room. 
“Thank you. I’m not too heavy?”
“Not at all, princess.”
You watch his face as he turns on the water and makes cute little faces as the cold water hits his hand first before steaming up the area. As he cleaned your skin, his tongue poked out the side of his mouth making a little giggle fall from yours. 
“What are you laughing at?”
“You.”, you smile. “You’re just really adorable.”
“Thank you? I think.”, he grins as he comes up to kiss your forehead.
After you’re both clean and back in his room, he pulls out the couch to turn it into a bed and places you on it before you notice him pause. 
“I, um, I just assumed you’d be falling asleep here. I’m sorry. Did…did you need to get home?”
“Um…” You meant what you said when it came to relationships. You weren’t ready to jump into a new one and when you let him bring you home you told yourself this was just going to be a onetime thing but you couldn’t deny there was something about this man that made you feel safe. Maybe you could just take things slow and see where it led. “No, I can stay.”
Eddie breathed a sigh of relief as he leaned down to kiss your lips. Throwing one his shirts over your frame, you laughed as he pulled on his boxers and obnoxiously jumped into bed.
With your head on his chest and his arm wrapped around you, the two of you talked till the sun slowly began to rise outside his window. 
##################
“I thought you were dead!”, Paige shouted as she lightly pushed your arm before getting up to hug you when she saw you walk into the restaurant you two were supposed to be meeting at. “You didn’t text me or anything and when I woke up you weren’t home.”
“I know! I’m so sorry. I got caught up with someone…”, you grin as your eyes bashfully meet hers.
“Oh, tell me everything.”
The two of you giggle as you regale her with the story of the previous night’s events as you swoon over the older boxer you met. 
“Ugh, well I’m glad something good came from boxing.”, she sassed, sticking out her tongue for emphasis. 
“Good lord, what is it with you and boxing? Were you once a fighter who lost her dream when another fighter broke your neck?”
“No, you movie nerd.”, she laughs. “My dad’s a boxer. I mean I guess you can call him that. He’s a mechanic but decided randomly to start training to fight.”
“Your dad the deadbeat?”
“Yeah. He went training 24/7 and it killed my mother. They stopped spending time together and when they were together they fought constantly. One day a few months ago, he was just gone and next thing I know they are getting a divorce.”
“I’m so sorry, Paige. I know how hard divorce is on a family.”
“He’s supposed to meet me today to get some more of his things. He doesn’t have a place right now and begged my mom to hold his stuff till he found something. I guess he’s won a good amount of matches because he told her the other day he’d saved enough money to finally move. My mom refuses to see him so I’m the messenger I guess.”
“Do you want me to lag behind so I can be your reason to leave? ‘Oh here’s my roommate. We have to go.’”, you joke.
“My saint. Would you please? Op, speak of the goddamn devil.”, she sighs as she flashes you her phone screen. “I’ll meet you outside.”
As she walks outside, you hurry to pay so she’s not alone for too long. Paige was a wonderful roommate and an even better friend. When you met her, you had just had your breakup and nowhere to go. She was sympathetic to your plight and helped you at your absolutely lowest. She got you get back on your feet and now after meeting Eddie, maybe things were finally on the right track again. 
“You don’t have to do this, sweetheart. I can drive down there and get my things myself. She shouldn’t be asking you to be the ‘middleman’. This is between me and your mother.”
“I don’t mind doing it after what you did to her. Imagine how she’d feel if you showed up covered in hickeys. Hide that shit better.”, Paige shouted as she slammed her trunk closed and her father lifted the collar of his jacket. “Whatever doesn’t fucking matter. All that matters to you now is yourself and your dreams, you fucking asshole.”
“Paige, please. Can we just talk so I can explain some things—”
“No, we can’t. My roommates here and we need to go home. Right, Y/N?”, she growls as she turns to face you. 
Your eyes widen as you come face to face with Paige’s “deadbeat” father. Eddie seems equally as surprised as his jaw falls open. 
“Th-This is the girl you moved in with?”, he whispered.
“What do you care? She’s my friend and mom loves her. Come on, Y/N.”
As your roommate, grips your arm and pulls you to her car, you struggle to take your eyes off the older man as his own irises sullenly follow.
Of course. How could I be so stupid to think things would get better? I should have refused the blind like I wanted to. If I had this would never have happened. I’m a fucking idiot. 
As Eddie watches his daughter speed away with the angel he met last night, he pulled the piece of paper you left by his nightstand with your phone number and a note saying you needed to meet your roommate for lunch but you would talk to him later. 
His heart fell into his stomach as the notion ran through his head that you may never want to speak with him again. 
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@dashingdeb16 @myherometalhead @micheledawn1975 @hardladyheart @chelebelletx @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @paleidiot
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janeyseymour · 20 hours ago
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A Piece Of Paper
Summary: You and Melissa have been dating for a while. Marriage isn't necessarily the plan. Who needs a silly piece of paper to solidify the relationship anyway?
WC: ~4.2k
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After dating Melissa Schemmenti, second grade teacher at Willard R. Abbott Elementary School, for about a year, the two of you decide to finally jump the gun and move in together. It took a bit of convincing on your end, but eventually, she welcomed the company and companionship that you brought with you. Living together didn’t mean you were married after all. 
You’ve been living together for two years now, dating for three. It’s a nice situation to be in. Neither of you are particularly ready to get married, each of you for your respective reasons. The topic had come up when you moved in, and you came to an agreement that you were more than satisfied just being partners… life partners. The weekday routine of waking up together, occasionally showering together before getting on with your days, breakfast, heading to work, coming home to your person, and then relaxing before heading to bed and starting the cycle all over again is warm enough. But your weekends are always slow, steady, full of comfort and contentedness to do everything or nothing at all. This relationship that you have with Melissa is all you’ll ever need in life- married or not.
It’s a day where you have off and your girlfriend conveniently has a professional development day that, while you are still more than content with your lifestyle how it is, Melissa’s thoughts and views begin to change. 
Because Ava doesn’t have anything against you (you would even venture to say the principal of your girlfriend’s school likes you), you’re able to enter the school during lunch hours and share a meal with your girlfriend and her coworkers. They all adore you, but it does confuse them how someone like you could be dating someone like the redheaded woman. You’re calm and level-headed, and they’ve seen Melissa in her fits of rage. Regardless, they support your relationship wholeheartedly and eagerly.
“So,” Jacob hums loudly as he practically stares down his two coworkers that he’s closest to. “Does anybody have any big news to share with the group?”
You just roll your eyes in good nature at the secondary education teacher. He’s always so nosey, but he means well. You steal another bite of your girlfriend’s lunch, despite the fact that you have the exact same dish in front of you.
Janine and Gregory each share a look, before the shorter woman breaks out into a grin. “We actually do have some news… Thank you, Jacob.”
Jacob looks quite proud of himself, and it’s immediately clear to the rest of the room that this was an orchestrated act.
“So, Janine and I were talking last night, and…” Gregory nudges his girlfriend.
Janine holds up her left hand, and there’s a sparkling ring sitting on her ring finger. “We’re engaged! We’re getting married!”
Immediately, the group of teachers erupts into cheers, shouting their congratulations. It’s all a bit hectic for a few minutes as everyone tries to get a glimpse at the rock before it dies down.
“Damn, Eddie,” Ava looks him up and down once she’s seen the ring. “If I had known this is what I could’ve gotten, I woulda flirted with you way harder than I did.”
“And I would have happily reported you to HR,” Gregory replies with a satisfied smirk. “But thank you. I did what I could.”
“As you already know,” the second grade teacher smiles and claps her hands together. “Abbott is family to us, so of course you’re all invited to the wedding. We haven’t set a date yet, but we’re thinking sometime next year?”
“We’ll all be there, sweetheart,” Barbara puts in warmly. “We’re all very happy for the both of you. What a wonderful step the two of you are taking.”
You don’t think you’ve ever seen Janine so excited, and that woman is always practically bouncing off of the walls with energy.
But then the naive and in love woman looks to you and Melissa. “When do you think the two of you will be getting married?”
“This is your day,” you tell her gently. “Let’s keep the attention on you.”
“But I’m curious!” Janine argues. “I mean… I would love to have a double Abbott wedd-”
“Yeah, no, kid,” Melissa cuts in. “I love ya, don’t get me wrong, but I would rather die than have a double weddin’.”
“Besides,” you say as you lay a gentle hand on your girlfriend’s knee. “We don’t really see a need to get married. We live together, we’re happy together, and we don’t necessarily see the need to have a piece of paper solidify our relationship. But we are truly so happy that the two of you have decided to tie the knot.”
The rest of lunch is buzzing with questions about the engagement and talks of what Janine has already mentally planned for what she and Jacob are describing as ‘the wedding of the century’. Gregory just looks at his fiancee with a love in his eyes that you recognize as the way that Melissa looks at you. Every once in a while, he will interject his opinion though because some of Janine’s plans are a bit over the top.
“Hun, we can’t afford that,” the man says quite a few times. “Not on our teacher salaries.”
His objections don’t deter her in the slightest. She just smiles at him and nods along, claiming she’ll find a lower budget option with the same amount of pizazz. You listen, quietly amused, while your girlfriend takes in the conversation around her. For once, she doesn’t offer up any sarcastic quips. You chalk it up to her not wanting to ruin the moment for Janine and Gregory, but what you don’t know is that Melissa is deep in thought about engagements and weddings, marriage. The way that you so casually explained that you probably would never be married struck a chord in the redhead. She almost sees it as a challenge now to get married.
After about fifteen more minutes of chatter, the teachers have to find their ways back to their classrooms for the rest of the day to prepare and go through the rest of their data while you have to find your way out of the school.
“I’ll see you at home?” you ask sweetly.
When your girlfriend doesn't quite respond, you set a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Honey? I’ll see you at home?”
Only then does Melissa seem to understand that you’re speaking directly to her. “Y-yeah. I’ll see you at home, mi amore.”
She kisses you warmly, and then you grab your purse and exit, calling goodbye to your girlfriend’s coworkers as you make your way out.
You’re lounging on the couch with your book in hand when Melissa comes into the house from work. She kicks off her shoes, and she’s practically straddling your lap before she even drops her bag on the floor next to you.
You kiss her back passionately before pulling away with a giggle and a rosy tint to your cheeks. “Oh!” you giggle out as she continues to chase your lips. “My love, not that I’m not enjoying this, but what did I do to deserve this greeting?”
She doesn’t answer, instead just kissing you with desire and hunger- she’s being greedy. You can’t do anything but give in to what she wants, but air quickly becomes a necessity.
Her eyes are blown wide with lust for you, but you know you have to get her to talk to you before you can do anything else. “Baby? What’s going on?”
“I’m just so damn in love with you,” she mumbles as she starts to graze your neck with her lips and teeth. 
That’s all you need to hear before you allow her to lower you to a laying position on the couch, throw your book haphazardly, and have her way with you.
It’s a bit later that your legs are still shaking just slightly, but you’re clean and your clothes are back on. Your girlfriend just nuzzles into your hold, humming as she cards her fingers through your hair gently.
“My girl,” she whispers as she dots a few sweet kisses to your head. “Mine.”
“That I am,” you chuckle softly, still in somewhat of a haze after the mind-blowing couch sex. “What’s got you acting like this?”
“Just a day,” Melissa tells you as she kisses you again on the lips. Then she sighs. “Can we just call for delivery? I’m exhausted, an’ I don’t feel like cooking.”
You don’t quite know if she’s exhausted from the professional development day, or if she’s exhausted from the effort she just put in to satisfy you, but you hum and nod your agreement.
“Chinese?”
“Chinese,” you agree.
As you’re waiting for the food to come, your girlfriend decides that she needs to shower. You lounge in the living room, feet tucked beneath your figure, when your phone begins to ring. It’s your mother. Of course it’s your mother. With a heavy sigh, you reach for the ringing device on the coffee table. 
“Hey, Ma,” you answer.
You can hear how delighted she is that picked up. “Hey, sweet girl. Just calling in to check up on you. It’s been a while since I’ve heard from you.”
“I called you yesterday,” you deadpan.
You can practically see your mother shrug into the phone. “And a lot could’ve happened in a day!”
You can’t help the laugh that comes tumbling out of your mouth before you begin to fill her in on your day. You tell her how you were off from work so you were able to sleep in, and then you went to Abbott for lunch with your girlfriend.
“Oh, and how is Mel?” your mother asks.
“She’s good,” you promise. “Tired after today, so she’s in the shower, but I’m sure she’d tell you hello if she were here.”
“Good. The two of you need to come up for dinner sometime soon. Your dad and I aren’t getting any younger, you know.”
“I’ll talk to her,” you promise. “Oh! You know what did happen at the school today?”
“What?” It’s clear that your mother is intrigued. She’s been to Abbott as a guest reader in your girlfriend’s class, and has therefore been privy to the redhead’s coworkers. 
Melissa exits the bedroom, wet hair still clinging to her pajamas when she hears you talking to who she can only assume is your mother on the phone. Usually, she would walk right into the room, calling out a greeting as she takes her place beside you. But something in her stops herself, and she listens to your words just out of eyeliner.
“You remember Lis talkin’ about her coworkers, Janine and Gregory?” At your mother’s hum, you continue. “They got engaged. Wedding next year.”
“Oh how wonderful for them. Let them know I said congratulations,” your mother smiles into the phone. “Hey, when can I expect the two of you to finally pull your heads out of your asses and get hitched already? I want grandkids, you know.”
“Ma,” you sigh and roll your eyes. “You know Lis and I aren’t really planning on getting married.”
“And why would that be?” your mother pries, despite the fact that she’s well aware of the reasoning. 
“Because,” you chuckle. “I’m in no rush, if at all. And Lis has done marriage and divorce before. She don’t want to get married again, and that’s more than okay with me. Besides, we live together. She’s practically my wife as is. Who says we need a silly little paper to tell us that we’re together forever?”
“All I’m sayin’ is, I want grandkids. And you could use the insurance from the school- yours is shit. You can only claim it if you’re married. And, God forbid anything happen to either of you…”
“Ma, we already have all of that sorted out,” you try to reason with your mom. “We’re in a place where we’re content. I wish you could be happy with how we’ve chosen to live our lives.”
“I am!” your mother protests. “You know I adore Melissa, but I want grandkids!”
“I can give you grandkids without being married, Ma. But don’t hold your breath. I’m in no rush to have kids, if I have any at all. And Lis is practically a mother to twenty five children as it is with her job.”
Something in your mother finally gets her to relent. “I suppose I’ll just have to move onto your sister.”
“Yeah,” you snort out. “You do that, Ma. Just don’t tell her I sent you her way.”
“Oh, you know I’ll be sure to tell you you sent me to her,” your mom teases you.
You roll your eyes. “How are you and Dad?”
Melissa sees this as a good opportunity to enter the room, with your mother telling you about her day and what she and your father got up to today.
“Ma?” she whispers. You nod, and during a brief pause, the redhead calls her greeting into the phone.
“Mel!” your mother grins into the phone. “How are you dear?”
“Just fine, Nel. Tell Rick I said hey too when you get a chance.”
“I will dear,” your mom promises. And then she’s off and telling you more about her day. She chatters on for a few minutes before the doorbell rings. It’s your food.
“Ma?” you interrupt her gently as she tells you about the chronicles of her canasta game. “I hate to go, but our food just got here, and I’m starving. I’ll call you soon, yeah?”
Melissa stands to answer the door as your mother reluctantly lets you go, but only after quite a few promises of calling her again soon- coming up for a visit.
The redhead is already sorting out your food from the bag when you’re finally able to end the phone call, and she looks to you with a smirk. “Just a catch up call?”
“Just a catch up call,” you groan. “Woman acts like she hasn’t talked to me in years when I called her yesterday. She says to tell Janine and Gregory congratulations by the way.”
Melissa nods and hands you your pair of chopsticks and food before grabbing her own. You gently drape your legs over her lap with a smile, and green eyes are rolled fondly.
“So, anything else happen once I left Abbott today?” you ask.
Your girlfriend huffs. “Yeah. Loads of bullshit, that’s what happened today.”
She launches into some story about Ava and the data analysis, how the way that they retained their reports was deplorable- a school to prison pipeline really. You can’t help but chuckle at the way she explains the details, loudly and with lots of emotion. Your eyes go soft as you remember just how in love you are with the woman in front of you. The way that she cares about her students and her employment so much is… she goes above and beyond, really.
“Oi,” Melissa nudges you. “I’m over here talking about the school to prison pipeline, an’ you’re giving me lovesick puppy dog eyes. What the hell?”
You lean up and kiss her sesame chicken stuffed cheek gently. “I just love how passionate you are about your job and your kids. It’s really admirable. I wish I cared about my job that much.”
“You know what else I’m passionate about?” your girlfriend chuckles quietly and winks at you. Then she wiggles her eyebrows.
“Jesus, Lis. Always thinking about sex,” you roll your eyes, but a smirk is evident on your face.
“You’re sitting here in booty shorts and a sports bra with your legs draped over me, and I’m not supposed to be thinking about sex?” Melissa challenges.
“We had sex before the food got here. Eat your dinner,” you roll your eyes once again as you pick up another piece of broccoli with your chopsticks. 
The two of you finish you meals in relative silence as the television plays softly in the background, your girlfriend in her head and thoughts about what had been revealed earlier that day in the staff room, and then what she had overheard while you were on the phone with your mother. 
It’s not much later that the two of you are heading to bed, and Melissa just can’t keep her hands off of you- and not in that way. You know that you were joking about sex earlier, but you’re both so exhausted you don’t even know if you could manage right now without falling asleep. Her arms are just wrapped around your frame as you brush your teeth, as you comb your hair and take off your makeup. Her chin rests gently against your shoulder blade, and you feel a soft kiss being pressed to it. She doesn’t detangle herself from you even as you make your way into the bedroom. The only time that she lets you go is when you crawl into bed. Still, almost immediately once you’ve settled under the covers does she attach herself to your side again. Her head rests gently on your chest, red hair splayed out underneath of her.
“I love you,” Melissa whispers softly.
You press a warm kiss to her temple, muttering out a soft, “Love you too, Lis,” before you allow your eyes to flutter shut and sleep to take you away.
While you’re sound asleep, your girlfriend stays up for some time thinking about everything that had taken place today. Is… should the two of you get married? Your mother made a few good points. She knows you want kids at some point, and being on her insurance would probably beat the shitty insurance that the district offers her. And God forbid something happen to her, she would want you to be taken care of- you would get the house, her belongings… everything. But what you had said was true- the two of you were practically married as is. You’ve been together for three years, you live together, you’ve been through good times and bad. You don’t need a paper to prove to the world that you love each other.
But… she finds that she wants that stupid piece of paper. Melissa realizes that calling you her partner, her girlfriend, the love of her life that she isn’t married to just isn’t enough. She wants to have the privilege of introducing you to new people as her wife, as Mrs. Schemmenti. And she can’t do that if the two of you aren’t married. Silently, she decides that she might just have to fix this situation she’s found herself in.
The two of you wake up in a warm and sleepy haze. Melissa’s arms are wound tightly around your waist, her face practically in your chest from when you had turned in your sleep. Your legs are tangled with hers, and you’ve never woken up so warm and light.
“Good morning,” you whisper as you kiss her nose softly.
She just smiles. “Waking up next to you everyday, it’s always the best part of my day.”
“Stop trying to charm me,” you chuckle. “You already got the girl, and there’s no way that my bedhead and morning breath is the highlight of your day.”
Green eyes are soft and full of love as she looks into your own. “I promise you, my love.”
You lean in to kiss her.
She’s clingy the rest of the day, like how she was last night. And while it’s not unwelcome, it isn’t quite like your girlfriend. Yes, she likes to touch you- she’s usually not all that far from you while you lounge around the house on a lazy Saturday, but today you can’t seem to escape her hold. And if you do, it’s because Melissa is up and getting you a cup of coffee, grabbing the television remote from the other side of the couch, or she’s draping a blanket over you when you shiver. But as soon as the task at hand is complete, she’s right back to you- arm draped over you, kissing your head, tracing patterns on your thigh as you read, just simply enjoying your presence. 
You let her do this in silence- you don’t mind it. But it does confuse you. For the morning, you simply chalk it up to still being exhausted from the previous day, but even a time where she should be refreshed and back to her normal self, she isn’t.
Finally, around two in the afternoon, you can’t quite keep it inside of you anymore. You have to know why she’s acting like this, and without an apparent reason.
“Lis?” you crane your neck to look at her. She’s currently sitting behind you and massaging your shoulders as you watch television.
She answers by dotting a few kisses to the slope of your neck.
“Lis,” you repeat again, and you have to fight the moan that wants to come out of your mouth. Her hands and lips are almost irresistible. “Honey.”
“I love you,” she whispers against your skin.
“I love you too,” you smile softly and turn in her arms. “But babe, I gotta ask: why are you so lovey today?”
“Am I not allowed to spoil my girlfriend?” Melissa asks you.
You chuckle and kiss her softly. “You definitely are, but… I’m not forgetting an important day for us or anything, am I?”
“You think I need a special day to show you how much I love you?” she retorts.
You shake your head. “Well, no, but-”
“I love you,” your girlfriend tells you. “That’s all.”
You chuckle and kiss her again. Although you don’t believe her, something had to have happened to have her acting like this on a random Saturday, you relent. “Okay, honey.”
You let her continue to be clingy- it’s not like you mind it. Melissa is always so hellbent on showing her tough side, and you absolutely melt at being privileged enough to see the walls come down and her heart show. She continues to shower you in words of affirmation, and the look in her eyes is a look of love, but it’s different from the usual love you see.
The two of you are cooking dinner in your loungewear when she takes hold of your left hand. She brings it up to her lips and kisses your ring finger specifically.
“Lis?”
She just hums in response before pulling you in close and continuing to tend to the pot that she’s stirring.
“Honey?” That was odd.
Melissa looks to you. “What?”
“What was that?” you ask with a raised brow.
She smirks at you before casually replying, “I think your left hand might look better with a couple rings on it, don’t you think?”
“What?” Your jaw drops at her words, spoken as if she was telling you about the most mundane things in life, not marriage.
Melissa kisses the side of your head. “I’ve been thinkin’.”
“Clearly,” you chuckle softly.
“Can I admit somethin’ to you? Without you gettin’ mad?”
Your brows furrow. “What did you do?”
Your girlfriend’s hands immediately go up in surrender. “Nothin’ bad, babe. I just… with Janine and Gregory getting married, your words about not needing a silly little paper did something to me. And then… yesterday when you were on the phone with your ma, I may have heard you tell her I was practically your wife anyway.”
“You are,” you confirm. “But I know you don’t want the legalities of it all, and I’m okay with that- I told you that when I moved in.”
“What if- what if I don’t want just ‘practically’ no more?” she asks hesitantly. “What if I want it officially, and to be able to introduce you as Mrs. Schemmenti, my wife?”
Your eyes widen slightly. “I mean…”
“I’ll put it to you this way,” Melissa sighs softly. She pauses to stir the contents of your meal again. “When… when I married Joe, I knew it wasn’t the fairytale I imagined as a kid. So when it didn’t work out, yeah- it sucked. The circumstances made it suck a lot more. But… I don’t feel that way with you. I feel like everyday is a dream when I wake up beside you. You’re the… the miracle I’ve been waitin’ on.”
Tears begin to spring to your eyes at her vulnerable and meaningful words. “R-really?”
“Really,” she whispers as she kisses your head again. “An’ I’m not sayin’ we need to rush anything, but I… I think we should think about next steps. Ring shopping, an engagement, maybe a small, low-key wedding?”
You nod against her. “I- I think you’re on to something.”
When Monday rolls around and Melissa, now your fiancee, walks into the staff room of Abbott Elementary with a sparkling ring on her finger… well, she can only smirk.
“I guess I want that stupid piece of paper after all.” And then when she sees Janine’s face, she quickly adds, “And no- we will not be having a double wedding."
TAGS:  (and let me know if you want to be included!): @schemmentis @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @marvels--slut @sweetcheeksschemmenti @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @a-queen-and-her-throne @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson @dvrkhcld @cosmichymns @sasheemo @m1lflov3rrr @ricejucie @temilyrights @emilynissangtr @squinnchy @dopenightmaretyphoon @emeraldoceansstuff @shinyfaerielights  @blkmxrvel @marvelwomenrule @sarahjohannson @casualfoxwitch @babytakeittothehead
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joequiinn · 2 days ago
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The Dos & Don'ts of Fake Dating | E.M. x reader | pt. 17
[chap sixteen] | [all chapters here]
Story Summary: You propose a crazy idea to the resident freak of Hawkins, Eddie Munson. But maybe he was even crazier for agreeing to it…
notes & tropes: fem reader, slooow burn, faking dating, opposites attract, bratty rich bitch reader, super minor revenge plot, dysfunctional family dynamics, idiots-to-lovers, smut & nsfw themes
a/n: How is it possible that we've reached the end??? Although this may be the last chapter, this won't be the final outing for our Ice Princess - I'll have the epilogue posted soon, and I'm hoping to explore ther relationship more in the future! This chapter is a little bit serious, but otherwise it's entirely indulgent for all of us that have just been chomping at the bit for these two to get together, so enjoy~
wc: 9.1k
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Chapter Seventeen
Sleeping in Eddie’s bed had clearly become something of a habit in your month and a half of fake dating, because it didn’t even surprise you when you awoke the day after Halloween to find your cheek pressed against his back, his messy mane of curls tickling your face. No, the part that did briefly surprise you was the realization that you were lying there virtually naked and holding him like he was your own personal teddy bear; when the Halloween party slowly began to come back to you, though, your surprise began to fade away.
You’d kissed Eddie, not just once or twice or even for a few minutes, but for damn near the rest of night. Once you two left the party and returned to his place in the early hours of the morning, you practically jumped him because you were unable to contain all the want you’d been harboring over the course of these past weeks. Hell, you couldn’t even remember when you two eventually caved to your exhaustion and pulled away from each other, because you were so caught up in the whirlwind of his lips and his touch that all other details of the night seemed to vanish from memory.
With a giddy smile, you lightly brushed your fingers along your lips, feeling your ears grow hot at the memory of Eddie’s kisses and groping hands and tented pants. You even laughed to yourself smally, as if you were in disbelief about the evening that had transpired.
As your eyes lazily trailed up and down Eddie’s back, feeling ease and content in watching him sleep soundly, that pesky anxiety of yours began whispering cruelly in your ear again like it always seemed to - after all, you two hadn’t exactly discussed what was going on between you, so for all you knew the kisses could actually mean very little.
Although the reasonable side of you knew it was almost certainly ridiculous to assume this wouldn’t go further - considering the few things you did talk about last night - the nervous, emotionally confused and untrusting side of you couldn’t help but run wild with assumptions. What if Eddie didn’t like you in the same way you liked him, what if you misunderstood each other last night? Within only a few minutes of being awake, your worries were already getting the better of you, souring your morning far too quickly for your liking.
You were never exactly the most emotionally competent person, you loathed to admit - considering the household you grew up in, feelings were often suppressed until they boiled over. Neither of your parents set a very good example of how to properly express emotions or healthily discuss them, so your baseline was pretty damn pathetic. How were you supposed to ask Eddie what this was now, how were you supposed to behave when anxieties kept clouding you with skepticism?
The longer you lied here and stressed about it, the more you began to confuse yourself over technicalities and your assumptions regarding Eddie’s feelings. Eventually, when you couldn’t take the obnoxious ramblings inside your own head anymore, you shot out of bed and rushed back into your clothes from the night before, hoping you weren’t causing enough noise to rouse Eddie from his sleep.
You fumbled around the nightstand in hopes that there was a pack of cigarettes somewhere, but you cursed when you couldn’t find even a loose one rolling around; but after digging around in the pockets of Eddie’s jacket, you were relieved to find cigarettes and a lighter there as if they were waiting for you.
Creeping out of the bedroom, you exhaled deeply upon noticing that Wayne had already left for the day, feeling a little more at ease knowing that you could have some time alone to make sense of your thoughts and feelings. You stepped out onto the patio, immediately shivering thanks to the November chill in the air - you really could’ve thought this through better and at least grabbed a jacket, but your head was a little too mirky to have considered it. And you weren’t quite brave enough now to turn back around to grab one.
Curling up in one of the ratty chairs, you lit a cigarette and took a drag that was far too deep, as you ended up in a short coughing fit within moments. Once it passed, your anxieties and frustrations immediately returned in full force, making it damn near impossible to clear your head like you’d hoped. Really, you didn’t know what the hell you were so worried about, yet you felt this constant sense of foreboding; logically, it seemed misplaced, especially considering just how good last night was for you, yet it couldn’t be helped.
You finally confessed your feelings to Eddie and by some stroke of luck he reciprocated them, so then why did you have this sinking feeling in your chest? Why were you so convinced that something had to have been miscommunicated or misunderstood? It was as if you were waiting for the other shoe to drop, waiting for the inevitable disappointment that had to come following last night, because that’s how things had always gone for you before when they were actually important.
You were used to disappointment - between your parents and your friends and your exes, you’d come to expect it at this rate. You wouldn’t be surprised in the slightest if Eddie didn’t want any kind of serious relationship, if he didn’t want to keep things going between you two; despite yourself, your brain could justify any and all ridiculous reasons for this not to work regardless of how desperately you wanted it to.
You sat out on the patio for what felt like an eternity, watching the relatively uninteresting activity of the trailer park, thinking yourself into an anxious fit. Somewhere between your first and second cigarette, you began pacing across the small expanse of the patio, moving back and forth as if that could somehow put your mind at ease.
It was as you put a fourth cigarette to your lips that you heard the door open behind you, causing you to jump and spin around with wide, nervous eyes. Eddie paused in the door frame, his tired eyes landing on you with something akin to surprise and relief, though you couldn't understand why he looked at you that way.
Despite your best efforts to keep your gaze focused on his face, you couldn’t help but give Eddie a quick up-down, swallowing at the sight of his bare chest and his boxers slung low on his hips. You could see in his expression and posture that he still felt heavy with sleep, and yet his eyes were wide awake, as if he shot straight out of bed upon realizing you weren’t there beside him. He, too, looked you up and down, his shoulders seeming to relax a little as his tired mind tried to catch up with him.
“I thought you were gone.” His morning voice was gruff, and yet you couldn’t help but enjoy it. You dumbly shook your head, unable to think properly now that Eddie stood across from you, disrupting the already chaotic train of thought you’d been consumed with since waking. You removed the unlit cigarette from your mouth, sliding it into your pocket as you looked down at your feet; you could curse yourself for feeling so fucking nervous right now, your heart drumming hard and fast in your chest.
“No, just…” You trailed off, not knowing what you wanted to say anyway. Eddie’s brows were knotted with concern and thought as he stared at you; it almost looked as if he, too, was awaiting disappointment, just the same as you. Biting your lip, you added simply, “Just needed to think.”
Eddie’s chest heaved with a deep sigh as he looked you up and down again, making you wish you could simply read his mind right now - that would make this so much easier, you wouldn’t have to ask him questions or say any of the things that were on your mind.
Eddie looked around, giving you the impression that he was just as nervous as you were right now; clearly, sobriety had both of you a little on edge, “About last night?”
Despite all your nerves, a faint smile nearly ghosted across your lips as everything from the evening prior came flooding back to you. In some ways, it was so much easier to look upon it fondly now that Eddie was here, even as his presence hiked your anxieties. You glanced up at him through your lashes, biting the inside of your cheek at the warm yet trepidation look on his face.
“About last night.” You affirmed in a quiet voice, sheepishly looking around as you continued to make some sense of the chaos going on in your head. Why was it so hard to simply talk to Eddie right now? Why were you so scared to be transparent, to discuss your feelings when clearly you both had things to say on the matter?
Well, because you’d never felt like this before - the answer was obvious, and yet impossible to wrap your head around. The affection and endearment and yearning you felt for Eddie was unlike anything you’d ever experienced in your entire life, and it scared the fuck out of you. He’s been so good to you from the start, has always taken care of you, has let you into his world with open arms, and all of that was now utterly terrifying - the other shoe would inevitably drop soon, right? Something bad had to happen soon, that was all you ever knew. All your relationships - romantic, platonic, and otherwise - were bad, so what would make this any different?
Suddenly fearful of the swell of emotion inside your chest, you turned away from Eddie and took a deep breath; you could feel his gaze burning into the back of your head. Now that you weren’t looking him in the eye, it became at least a hair easier to swallow the lump in your throat and talk, even if your words were shaky.
“I… am terrible with feelings. Absolute shit with emotions, okay?” Eddie simply hummed behind you, and even in that simple sound you could almost hear the look on his face - brows up just a little with curiosity, arms crossed, corner of his mouth barely pulled back in a patient, attentive smirk. Whether or not you were making up that expression in your head, you were somehow certain that’s what you’d see if you were brave enough to turn around right now, “It’s hard for me. But… I’ve been confused for weeks, Eddie.”
A very faint laugh escaped him, prompting you to spin back around and look him in the eye with a puzzled, nervous expression; in that brief moment, you forgot your nerves as you found his watchful gaze. And just as you imagined, he was leaning in the door frame with his arms lazily crossed over his chest, a look of even-tempered composure spread across his face.
“You and me both, princess.” He said simply, as if he were refraining from talking too much. Was he doing so to give you the opportunity to speak your mind more easily?
For a long stretch, you stared at one another, your anxieties coming back to you even as you tried to fight them off; you abruptly turned away from him again, your nerves getting the better of you as you suddenly delved into a panicked rambling.
“You’ve made me feel shit I haven’t felt before, and I didn’t want to get confused so I tried to ignore it, but, fuck Eddie I didn’t think I could feel so many things all at once. It was so easy before, being the ice princess - I didn't care about anyone or anything, it was easier to just exist. But then you happened and I can’t even begin to understand why I’m so emotional all the time or how it’s possible for me to like you so much and be scared of that feeling.”
Hearing the worn wood of the patio creak under Eddie’s feet, your eyes grew wide, debating whether or not to turn around or maintain this measly comfort that came from having your back to him. But it didn’t sound as if he were coming any closer, and your prattling continued whether you wanted it to or not.
“Why am I scared? That’s so stupid, am I really that incapable of handling emotions or a relationship? All it took was one nice boy to turn me into a confused, emotional mess? God, you’ve made me happier than I’ve ever been these past couple months, and yet I want to run from it, like I don’t deserve it or something. Like no matter what, I’m gonna fuck this up and we’re both gonna end up disappointed.
“This was supposed to be some stupid little way of getting back at everyone in my life, but I guess the joke’s on me because now I’ve got more feelings than I can fucking contain and it’s like no matter what I do, I’m gonna ruin this.”
Maybe it was your nerves, but it was almost as if you could suddenly feel that Eddie had come closer without warning, causing you to abruptly begin pacing back and forth across the expanse of the patio. You kept your head down, still insisting on keeping some kind of pathetic barrier between you and Eddie as your anxiety just continued to escalade.
“This would be so much easier if you just didn’t like me back, Eddie, if you just didn’t care about me - I could’ve gotten over this so fucking easily. I can’t ignore it, and now some part of me wants to run, and I know that’s not fair, but maybe it would’ve made it easier on us both to just pretend nothing ever happened and to go back to how things were before we met and--”
Abruptly, Eddie grabbed your arm and spun you around to face him, causing you to trip over your feet as he steadied you. Firmly, he cupped your cheeks in his hands, forcing you to look up at him, forcing your eyes to stare directly into his - his gaze was far too affectionate right now, and it was only at that moment that you realized your eyes were feeling a little too watery for your liking.
“You’re talking yourself into a fit, princess.” Eddie’s voice was low and comforting, his hands warm against your skin as he held you in place. You gulped nervously, your skin breaking out into goosebumps as his thumb brushed tenderly along the apple of your cheek. You looked down, your gaze emptily staring at Eddie’s chin as you could feel the way he studied you, the way he looked at you with care. He dipped his head down just an inch, but was mindful not to get too close, a charmed little laugh escaping his lips and fluttering against yours, “What are you so afraid of?”
Eddie’s question felt too kind and gentle, far nicer than you deserved. Your sad eyes turned back up to meet his, and the tenderness in his gaze was utterly terrifying. You could only manage to whisper, as if incapable of raising your voice any louder, “I’m gonna fuck this up, Eddie; I don’t wanna hurt you and disappoint you and waste your time.”
A sweet smile tugged at Eddie’s lips, and you quickly looked back down nervously. Eddie’s fingers pressed against your skin insistently, “Will you please look at me?”
As if unable to resist the request, your eyes immediately flicked back up; Eddie’s expression brightened a little, clearly pleased that you were cooperating with him instead of resisting.
“You’re never gonna waste my time.” He started firmly, clearly believing every single word he was saying. You shook your head, but his gentle hands stopped you, “You don’t get to decide that. If you like me as much as you say you do, just be with me. Is that such a bad idea?”
You looked between Eddie’s eyes, unsure how to answer him - your head was swimming with confusion, your heart was pounding with anxieties, and yet they were somehow in entirely different places. You tried to outweigh your fear with logic, and yet you remained at odds with yourself. Pressing your lips together tightly, you swallowed while trying in vain to find your voice again. As if Eddie could read your thoughts, he continued.
“Let me make this easy for you,” although he spoke with confidence, you could see that Eddie was just as nervous as you were, that his eyes were alight with concern; hell, you could practically feel how rapidly his own heart was beating, how his arms were ever so gently shaking. He dipped his head closer, your foreheads nearly pressed together, his handsome face causing you to exhale longingly despite all your pent-up fear. Eddie’s voice had also lowered to a near whisper, “We’ve already been faking it for, what, two months now - so, can we just stop pretending? Nothing else is going to change… except that I’ll kiss you more, if you’ll let me.”
You tried to resist the temptation to smile, but you lost that battle quickly; your cheeks nearly hurt as you grinned and let out a nervous laugh, causing Eddie’s own gleeful smile to grace his pretty features. Trepidation was still ever present in your mind, hesitation clearly shining in your eyes, but getting you to smile again was a victory for Eddie, whose thumbs brushed dotingly along your cheeks.
“We’ll be just fine,” Eddie started warmly, his eyes reveling in the smile on your lips, gaze drinking in your features, “okay, princess?”
Your response was but a whisper as you gave a small nod, your breath warm against Eddie’s lips, “Okay.”
Without a need for any further confirmation, Eddie closed the gap between the two of you, crushing his lips against yours with a desperation that made you instantly dizzy. Your hands quickly began to search for grip along his sides, fingernails scratching against his skin as you kissed him back eagerly, a fire lighting in your stomach that burned out your nerves.
Eddie's hands trailed down your cheeks and neck, his gentle touch making your toes curl and sending a shiver up your spine; a deep sigh of satisfaction deflated the fears in your chest as his arms encircled you. You lips became more assertive and eager against Eddie's, hands gripping at him a little tighter as if intent on never letting go.
As your tongue teased along his lower lip, a gust of autumn wind blew past, and you could feel goosebumps breaking out across Eddie's skin beneath your fingertips. You shivered together, Eddie pulling his lips from yours with a faint chuckle. 
“Shit, it's cold.” He muttered into your mouth, causing you to laugh along with him. You gave his chest a small nudge, causing Eddie to take a step backwards.
“Then take me inside.” You instructed. With a sly look, Eddie took hold of your hands and dragged you back into the trailer, pressing your back against the door the moment that it was closed so he could steal another fierce kiss. You could have moaned at the way he pressed his body flush against yours, flinging your arms around his neck and twisting your fingers eagerly in his hair. Enjoying the feel of your hands on him, Eddie rolled his hips smally, causing a hungry sound to rise in your throat.
You broke away from Eddie’s lips, but evidently he wasn’t done with you, because he leaned down to plant firm kisses against the side of your neck; you sighed with delight, momentarily forgetting yourself. When you found your words again, you curled your fingers a little tighter in his hair to get his attention.
“Eddie, I--” You cut yourself off before anything more could leave you. Admittedly, you were embarrassed at the idea of simply saying “Eddie, I wanna fuck you so bad right now,” and just thinking those words caused your cheeks to grow fiery hot.
Feeling your hesitation, Eddie lifted his head to look you in the eye, his gaze dark as if in an odd blend of knowing and uncertainty - it was as if he knew what you wanted to say, and yet he doubted you’d say it at all.
“What?” He whispered huskily. It was then you realized you could feel him growing hard against your hip, and fuck you could’ve mewled greedily. Taking a breath and sticking up your chin in an attempt to gain your confidence, you looked between Eddie’s eyes and lips.
“I want you.” You opted for the less vulgar admission, hoping it would keep your temperature from rising quite so high, though you still felt sheepish saying it. Eddie inhaled deeply, taking in your face closely as if he planned on memorizing each and every feature.
The corner of his mouth pulled up in a faint grin, an excitement alight in his eyes, “I’m all yours, princess.”
A bubble of exhilaration swelled in your stomach, your pussy clenching at his words in anticipation. Achingly, you dragged Eddie’s lips back to yours for a fierce, hot kiss, just as quickly pulling back so you could drag him the short distance back to his room.
Unceremoniously, you shoved Eddie down onto the bed, a giddy laugh escaping you at the surprise across his face, clearly unprepared for you to take charge the way you did. Your eagerness and nervousness were at odds inside your chest as you took him in, hooded gaze dragging down his bare torso and locking onto the tent in his boxers. Eddie stared back at you with much the same expression, his brows slowly rising with anticipation as you unbuttoned your shirt and quickly dropped it to the floor.
In the next moment, you slid out of your shorts, pausing there for a moment as if frozen by the way Eddie watched you with a mesmerized expression. Everything within you was taut with arousal as you let Eddie drink your body in a few seconds longer; as if starved, though, you quickly crawled into his lap and kissed him with such urgency that it made you short of breath.
Eddie’s arms snaked around your middle, hands pressed firmly to your back as if to make sure you were real and solid, as if to make sure this wasn’t some dream. With your body flush against his, you could feel each breath in his chest, each flex of his muscles, the tease of his cock awaiting your touch. Still with some uncertainty, you lowered yourself on Eddie’s lap, your hot center pressed comfortably atop his cock, your underwear creating barely enough layers between you two.
As Eddie twitched beneath you, a moan passed from your mouth into his, your hands desperately winding into his hair again and your tongue feverish against his lips. Slowly, you rolled your hips along his length as a depraved groan rumbled in Eddie’s throat; he jerked again eagerly, his grip on your back growing even firmer. You rutted your hips heavily against his cock, pussy tightening with jitteriness and desperation and yearning.
You pulled your lips away from Eddie’s abruptly, only to ravenously kiss and nip along his neck, the feel of your hot mouth causing him to squirm with impatience. You continued to grind your hips at a deep, lecherous pace, your underwear growing damp from the friction and your arousal, desperate for more and more of Eddie’s body.
Pulling back to catch your breath, you found Eddie’s eyes, so dark and hooded as he stared back as if you were a goddamn work of art. Your heart beat wildly in your chest at the look of adoration, and all too quickly you were crashing your lips back to his for a passionate, chaste kiss.
You withdrew again, not just your lips but this time your entire body, sliding down from Eddie’s lap to the floor in front of him, eagerly settling between his knees; as you looked back up through your lashes, his slacked jaw and nervous anticipation made you grin wickedly.
You held Eddie’s eyes as you pressed closer, hands sliding up his thighs and towards the hard tent in his boxers; he swallowed excitedly, watching with intense focus as you finally palmed his cock through the thin layer of fabric concealing it. He tensed, sighing longingly at your touch; when you gave him a slight squeeze, the sigh turned into a gasp.
Eddie took a deep breath in a weak attempt to steady himself, eyes locked on yours for fear of looking away. You gave him one more small squeeze before removing your hand, hooking your fingers into the hem of his boxers; you paused, taking in Eddie’s expression with a teasing glint in your eyes.
When you finally dragged the measly article of clothing down, his cock bounced up and slapped against his abdomen; you bit your lip, holding in the gasp that nearly left your mouth at the sight of him. You hungrily looked between Eddie’s eyes and the throbbing head of his cock, nearly ready to pounce him without warning, though you refrained. No, if you could help it, you were going to take your sweet time with him.
The mere sight of you on your knees for him was nearly enough to drive Eddie mad, his breath shaky as he took in your carnal expression, your eager eyes. In that moment, you were so damn beautiful that he was nearly afraid to touch you, his fists clenching urgently into the sheets on either side of him as he awaited what you’d do next.
You kept your dark stare locked with Eddie’s as you wet your lip, lowering yourself slowly towards his desperate cock. Just your hot breath against him was enough to make Eddie twitch and gasp, your mouth hovering mere centimeters from him; god, you clenched at the needy sound that escaped him, impatient to hear what others you may cause.
Finally, your lips closed around the head of Eddie’s cock, tantalizingly pressing your tongue flat to the underside of his length. Eddie exclaimed with a sinful stutter, hips bucking as you slowly twirled your tongue around him; you sucked in your cheeks, watching Eddie’s face through your lashes. His jaw had gone slack, staring down at you with hooded, mesmerized eyes; it very nearly drove you mad, and this had only just begun.
For a long, cruel beat, you remained unmoving, your stare teasing even with Eddie’s cock in your mouth; you waited until you spotted his impatience, relenting with a satisfied gleam in your eyes. Torturously slow, you took his length as deep as you could, your pussy clenching at the way his body shuddered and twitched as incoherent sounds leapt past his lips. His hips bucked up into your mouth as he frantically grabbed at your hair as if desperate to both stop you and to push you even lower on his cock.
Far too pleased with yourself, you finally stopped teasing, rhythmically bobbing your head up and down, twirling your tongue, drooling down the entirety of Eddie’s cock. With one hand, you squeezed what length you couldn’t fit in your mouth, slowly tightening your grip in response to his eager mewling; the nails on your other hand dug into the skin of his thigh, feeling his muscle flex beneath you.
Your tempo grew sloppier and needier, your once slow pace now growing wetter and greedier each time you made Eddie gasp with pleasure. Your hand squeezed tighter around his thick shaft, tongue tantalizing as it swirled his head. Eddie’s hips jerked up desperately, uncontrollably, his cock gagging you as it hit the back of your throat and the hand in your hair gripping harder as he all too easily fell apart. You used both hands to press down on his hips, a silent insistence to stay put as you shifted on your knees, changing the angle so you could take him even deeper.
He gasped and moaned as your mouth grew more frantic, tongue swirling, lips sucking, teeth grazing each time you took him deep enough that you nearly choked. Eddie’s squirming and begging only encouraged you, your mouth becoming more and more desperate around him, your jaw straining as you slurped and sucked with total obscenity. With his cock practically fully sheathed, you ran your vulgar tongue from base to tip, pressing it against the most sensitive part of his head and making him gasp with a salacious jolt.
“Heyhey--!” Eddie abruptly pulled you off his cock, a string of drool connecting you two as a satisfied, wicked grin spread across your lips. His chest heaved frantically as he stared down at you with glazed eyes, his hair sticking to his sweaty forehead and flushed cheeks. You cleaned the drool from your lip with the back of your finger, hungrily looking between Eddie’s pretty face and his throbbing cock.
He laughed breathily in disbelief, making a measly attempt at composing himself. His cheeks were bright red as he looked down at his twitching cock, “Fuck…”
His fingers were still twisted in your hair, gently tugging as he met your eyes again; his expression was sapless, another profane look spreading across your face at the sight of him.
“Want me to stop?” You asked in an airy, tender whisper, realizing that you, too, needed to catch your breath. The question amused Eddie, who shook his head with a weak grin.
“Fuck no, that’s the problem.” You giggled at his response, teasingly pressing your lips to the underside of his cock, which made him jump a little with sensitivity. He dipped his head back and stared up at the ceiling, taking a deep breath to collect himself.
“Aw, need a minute?” You teased, to which Eddie faintly nodded. For a few moments, you rested your head atop his knee, adoringly watching his chest rise and fall, his Adam’s apple bob, his lips hanging open lustfully.
When he finally glanced back down at you, the look in his eyes was so damn tender that it nearly froze you, unable to move or look away as you drank him in. Once you managed to pull yourself from the hypnosis, you slowly rose to your feet, Eddie’s eyes watching you oh-so closely as you unclasped your bra and stepped out of your lacy underwear, entirely bare in front of him.
You drank in the dilation of his pupils, the heave of his chest, the twitch of his cock, shivering a little under Eddie’s severe, lustful gaze. His eyes trailed over your body, studying every single curve and blemish as if intent on memorizing your skin.
With a deep breath, you grabbed Eddie’s face tenderly between your hands and leaned down, kissing him with a hungry, passionate fervor, moaning against his lips. He blindly reached out for you, pulling you closer until you were flush against him, a satisfied sound escaping his throat at the feel of your skin on his. As you kissed him deeply, desperately, you hiked one knee up onto the bed, your hot center hovering above his thigh, so close that if you were to shift even a little you would graze against him.
Your tongue prodded at Eddie’s lower lip, moaning as his mouth opened to you; his hands tentatively explored your body, fingers digging into your hips, your legs, squeezing your ass with an unsure grip. Needily, you pressed your wet pussy onto his thigh, causing Eddie to moan and pull back so he could look you in the eye.
You breathed into each other’s mouths as you slowly rolled your hips once, making yourself gasp at the sensation; Eddie’s expression quickly darkened, growing hungry at the mere sight of you pleasuring yourself on him. His grip on you tightened, as if silently asking you to keep going, silently begging you to use him all for yourself.
Carefully maneuvering your other knee between his legs, you sat more comfortably atop his thigh and rutted your hips again, the both of you groaning as you threw your head back. Eddie cupped your ass, his hold more firm than before as you started to slowly ride his thigh, your pussy slick and desperate against his hot skin. Your breaths came out in deep shudders, jaw trembling a little when you’d roll your hips just right; you steadied yourself on Eddie’s shoulders, forehead pressing against his as you focused on your rhythm. He couldn’t help but moan at the sight of you, his cock throbbing against your knee as an erotic “fuck” escaped his lips.
When Eddie unexpectedly flexed his thigh, your hips stuttered, a surprised gasp leaving your mouth as you grinded more firmly, more desperately. Your legs were already beginning to tremble as you held tight to Eddie’s shoulders, sloppily kissing him as you rubbed up and down his thigh, pathetic sounds humming in both your throats as the heat in the room kept rising.
Beads of sweat began forming at your temple and the small of your back, your rhythm becoming more and more frantic against Eddie’s body. His lips were hot against your skin, leaving frenzied kisses along the corner of your mouth, your jaw, your neck; you could feel the way his breathing hitched and faltered, as if he was getting higher and higher along with you. Fuck, you weren’t even touching his cock, and yet you were so goddamn pornographic that it was about to send him over the edge again.
Eddie’s fingers dug into the fat of your ass, pressing you more insistently down against his leg; you pulled your head back just enough to smile stupidly at him, seeing and feeling the way his trepidation had begun to fade away. There was a fire in his eyes as you rubbed against him, his mouth hung open with need and desire as he watched you coming undone.
Biting your lip, you picked up your pace while curving your hips a little more, catching your clit in just the right way that it made your eyes cross. Your moaning grew desperate as you got closer to climax, your nails digging into Eddie’s shoulders to keep steady. He flexed his leg again, watching you through hooded eyes as he relished in your pleasure, breathing in your erotic scent as you gasped at the sensation that shot through your body.
“Eddie--” Your tone was pleading, causing him to hiss carnally between his teeth, his breath hot against your cheek. Your grinding was almost erratic, pussy so desperate as your hips rolled and your toes curled. Your body stuttered abruptly, overwhelming stimulation suddenly washing over you without warning, causing you to throw your head back with unrestrained gasps and whimpers.
Eddie held firmly onto you, the sounds of his own raunchy whines in your ear making your orgasm all the more intense. Your entire body shook for a few moments as you struggled to catch your breath, slumping against Eddie’s front and resting your head on his shoulder. Your chests heaved unevenly against one another, sweat sticky between you; the feel of Eddie’s cock twitching against your leg made you moan with a weak laugh, attempting to regain your composure.
“Fuck…” Eddie managed to pant out as you finally raised your head from his shoulder. When you met his eyes, he was lazily grinning from ear-to-ear, drinking in the sight of your post-orgasm expression; you smiled back, biting your lip as your gaze bounced around his handsome face, “Succubus…”
You laughed again, though the sound was hoarse and airy; you placed your hands at the base of Eddie’s neck, needily kissing him with as much force as you could muster. His hands trailed lazily up and down your back, his hands hot against your skin, and you couldn’t help but smile to yourself, the sensation bringing back the memory of that damned wet dream you had about Eddie only a mere few weeks ago.
Feeling your lips grinning against his, Eddie couldn’t help but mirror the expression, although his mind was still reeling from the fact that the ice princess just came because of him. Just a couple of months ago, he wouldn’t have dared bet money on the idea that you’d be getting off in his goddamn lap, and yet here you were, kissing him with lust and adoration, still quivering from your orgasm.
When finally you broke from the kiss, it was to look Eddie in the eye again, fingers tenderly curling in his hair as you drank him in. His expression was once again awestruck, and it made you feel flush all over, dropping your gaze as if bashful; his hands lazily slid back down to your ass, gripping you tight enough that you inhaled smally. Your eyes flicked back up so you could stare at Eddie’s handsome face, finally finding your voice again.
“You have condoms?” your tone was airy; the nearly surprised expression on Eddie’s face caused you to smile smally while raising your brows at him. He looked almost as if he had something smart to say, yet all he could do was nod dumbly in response to your question. Holding you close with one steady hand on the small of your back, Eddie leaned towards his nightstand, wrenching the drawer open and fumbling around until he finally found what he was searching for.
As Eddie brought the foil packaging to his mouth, you couldn’t help but ogle him, jaw slacking a little as he easily ripped the foil with his teeth, looking far, far too hot doing so. When his eager eyes found yours again they darkened with desire, and he couldn’t help but lean in to steal a quick kiss; you giggled against his lips, absolutely charmed by the innocence of it.
You snatched the condom from Eddie’s hand with a playful look, pulling your sweaty body away from his so you could crawl further onto the bed; you sat back, ass resting upon your heels as you waited for Eddie to follow after you.
He stayed planted for a beat as if in consideration, though before you could question it he turned to face you again; his eyes languidly trailed up and down your body, breath hitching at the sight of you, still so damn new and exciting for him. When finally Eddie met your eyes again, he smiled almost to himself, finally twisting around so he could crawl up the bed with you. Unable to stop yourself, your lusty gaze was drawn back to his cock, still hard and so goddamn tantalizing, and you felt desperate drool pooling in your mouth.
Eddie swooped in for another swift kiss, causing you to nearly fall back onto the pillows thanks to how unprepared you were for it. You gripped his biceps to stay upright, kissing him back eagerly and adoringly, and for a brief moment you came out of your lustful fog, realizing that kissing him felt so goddamn easy, that being with him was like the most natural thing in the entire world. That thought in mind, you deepened the kiss, wrapping your arms around Eddie’s neck and drawing him closer.
Eddie pulled his lips away so that he could press your foreheads together, breathing you in with affection while his hands came to rest gently atop your knees. You could nearly feel the way he smiled, your lips hovering but a breath away from one another, and it tempted you to lean back in for more.
“I haven’t really done this before.” Eddie blurted out huskily, as if he’d been trying to find the words since the start of this whole thing. You couldn’t help but smile largely, pulling back a little further so you could look at his face.
“‘Haven’t really?’” You teased questioningly, delighting in the way his cheeks blushed even more red than they were a moment before. Eddie looked down, grinning along with you. You gave him a firm kiss in an effort to bolster his confidence, wondering if this meant you’d be Eddie’s first time, or if he was just admitting to having very little experience.
He found your eyes, and although a smile rested on his face, he still looked nervous, “I mean… I’ve only done this once.”
Feeling especially playful - which had never been a thing with previous partners amidst the throes of passion -  you looked him in the eye with a near cocky expression, “Well, don’t worry, you’re in good hands.”
To that, an anxious laugh burst from Eddie’s throat, clearly unprepared for what you said; you giggled along with him, teasingly narrowing your eyes at him. As Eddie composed himself, he had to hold back more laughter while fondly meeting your eyes, “I’ll be the judge of that, princess.”
Eagerly, you dragged Eddie in for another kiss, guiding him to lie back on the bed; as you pushed him down against the pillows, you pulled your lips away. He stared up at you with such reverie, his lusty gaze watching closely as you straddled his legs, a faint gasp leaving his mouth as you gently grabbed his cock. You drank in the look on Eddie’s face as you gave him a few slow strokes, his moans turning you on, the way his head leaned back as his eyes fluttered closed utterly intoxicating. An entranced sigh escaped you, feeling how wet you were getting again at simply the sight of his satisfaction.
When you took back your hand, a disappointed whine rose from Eddie’s throat, causing you to grin wickedly; you finally removed the condom  from its foil, guiding it down his shaft as butterflies began to flutter wildly in your stomach. Eddie watched through hooded eyes as if he were in awe of you; when you leaned forward onto your palms, his eyes flickered down towards your chest, seemingly engrossed in the way your breasts moved as you crawled up his body till you were centered above his erection.
For a moment, you lingered there, mere inches away as you took the time to enjoy the look of Eddie, the desire alight in his eyes, the parting of his lips, the deep heaving of his chest; fuck, he was so handsome it was almost annoying. You couldn’t help but smile fondly while reaching down between you two, positioning Eddie as another faint sound of desire rose in his throat.
With a final, decisive sigh, you lowered yourself onto Eddie’s cock, your pussy so slick that you slid down hilt deep with ease. You moaned loudly at the way you stretched around his thickness, and in the same breath Eddie’s hands spasmed before gripping your thighs tightly.
“Holy shit--!” He hissed sharply while throwing his head back, the expanse of his neck looking far too appetizing all exposed like that. You stayed still for a couple of moments as you became comfortable with his size, delighting in the way Eddie’s fingers flexed against your skin, the way he caught his breath. You couldn’t help but clench around him, causing another gasp to fall from his lips.
Steadily, you began to roll your hips in a deep motion, your moans mingling together at the way Eddie’s cock stroked deep inside you; the slow pace was very nearly cruel, yet the way he hit all your sweet spots was far too intoxicating. God, you just wanted to lean down and trail bites all along Eddie’s neck, but you feared the change of position would get you too close too soon. So, you continued to grind, Eddie’s cock buried deep in your warm pussy, his hands gripping your thighs so tight that it nearly hurt. Hands braced on either side of his head, your fingers twisted eagerly into the pillow with each rut of your hips.
Eddie’s whines and moans were like music to your ears, encouraging you to shift your knees so you could bounce on his cock, the new angle making you mewl loudly as your eyes crossed. Eddie, too, responded wildly, hands grabbing desperately at your hips and ass and legs, squeezing you with rash need.
The way his girth stretched you out had your pussy flexing tight with yearning, your legs already shaky at the feel of him sliding in and out of your slick folds. Christ, nothing before had ever felt as good as Eddie, no one had ever gotten you so high like this; just that thought alone made you shudder and clench with ecstasy and greed.
With his cock sliding in and out of you, Eddie saw stars in his eyes, his mind running wild, his body like static electricity. Incoherent muttering spilled from his parted lips, gasps and hitched breaths growing more frenzied as you rode him eagerly. You looked like a goddamn masterpiece, your hair a mess, body glistening with a sheen of sweat, hands groping desperately at his shoulders as your pace became more and more frenzied. The fucking sight of you riding him was better than anything Eddie had ever dreamed of, and some part of him was still convinced this moment wasn't entirely real.
A particularly urgent gasp leapt from your throat as you rubbed your clit against the hilt of Eddie’s cock just right, the sensation coursing through your body causing your rhythm to falter as you braced your hands roughly on his shoulders. You had to slow down and collect yourself for just a moment, taken aback by the fact that you had nearly cum again so damn easily. Eddie’s breathing was heavy as he stared up at you, ogling the rise and fall of your chest, the taut muscles in your arms, the way your mouth hung open so erotically; unintentionally, you flexed around him, causing the both of you to moan in unison.
You met Eddie’s eyes again, a dopey smile spreading across your lips at how good he looked beneath you with his hair a mess and his eyes nearly black with lust. He grinned back at you with a weak, breathy chuckle, hands squeezing your legs again, cock twitching inside you; it felt so good that you had to bite your lip to hold back a whine.
“You’re amazing.” Eddie said, his voice light as air; you fondly rolled your eyes.
“Shut up.” You answered without any conviction, leaning down so you could kiss him again. The movement caused you to slide up his cock, making the both of you moan into each other’s mouths. You relaxed onto your elbows, trailing hot kisses along Eddie’s jaw as you slowly began to ride him again, the new angle causing friction against your clit that was absolutely sinful.
Eddie’s moaning and muttering being so close to your ear only made you hotter and hornier, clenching tightly as you picked up your pace. His hands held tight to the back of your thighs, helping you bounce rhythmically up and down on his cock as you continued to nip and kiss at his jawline and neck.
As if he had finally gained the confidence to do so, Eddie started to thrust up into you in time with your movements, putting you into an absolute frenzy as your bodies slapped together. All the moans and gasps that tumbled from your lips were growing increasingly louder and more pornographic, to which Eddie’s thrusts became more solid and quick and rough.
You stopped kissing his sticky skin, sounds of ecstasy spilling out of you with more and more vulgarity, your toes curling and knees shaking from how fucking good Eddie’s cock felt ramming inside of you. You could feel drool trailing along your lip and onto Eddie’s hot neck, but you were too far gone to care, your pleasure overriding all of your senses.
“Shit, I’m close--” Eddie whined as if it were both a plea and a warning, and the desperation in his voice had you moaning even louder, walls clenching tight around him. You weren’t sure when you’d stopped moving, but now Eddie was thrusting up into you so deep and rough that it nearly hurt, but in the best goddamn way possible. Together, you were both moaning wildly, Eddie’s hips becoming erratic as he slapped up against you, your body shaking from the now overwhelming pleasuring washing over you. Your mind was so muddled, entirely wrapped up in Eddie and his cock and how close your orgasm was and--
Eddie groaned desperately with one final thrust, ramming himself deep inside you and holding you tightly in place; you could feel his cock twitching, and just knowing that you’d made him cum practically had you tumbling over the edge with him as well.
His body trembled with his orgasm, head thrown back and fingers digging into your skin; you, too, could feel yourself shaking, desperate for that release that was just out of reach. You breathed heavily, clenching around Eddie and making him moan again as he tried to catch his breath, tried to come back down to earth from the cloud he was on.
After a minute, you could feel Eddie relaxing beneath you, and so you sat up a little, moaning at the way his cock still teased your needy pussy, which was growing urgent for relief; a similar, though weaker, sound rumbled in his throat, hands falling limply on either side of your legs. You stared down tenderly at Eddie’s face; his eyes were still closed as he tried to collect himself, and he looked so pretty that you nearly reached out to touch him.
With your second orgasm delayed, your body was feeling particularly desperate, and with a wicked glint in your eyes, you rolled your hips slowly against Eddie’s. He threw his head back with a whine, fingertips trying to grip at your legs and stop you.
“Fuck, princess--!” The lustful way that the endearing nickname left Eddie’s mouth made your pussy flex around him again, drawing another illicit moan from deep in his throat. He managed to get a weak grip on your knees, eyes shooting open to gaze up into your face; there was an overstimulated nervousness in his blown out stare, which made your lips curl into an infatuated smile. Selfishly, you rut your hips with Eddie’s, making him twitch again with how damn sensitive his cock was. “Baby, please…”
Baby. The new term of endearment made you moan. You held Eddie’s gaze as you ever so slowly continued to grind on his cock, which was still hard even after his own release. Weak, needy noises left Eddie as his eyes crossed and rolled back again, succumbing to you; his body shook beneath yours as you used his cock for your own pleasure, creating a friction on your clit that was making you damn near feral.
Like a mantra, weak, breathy “fuck”s fell from your lips as you chased your orgasm, eyes closed and limbs wobbly as you rode Eddie to your heart’s content. His hands flexed against your legs, fingers clinging, body shaking as if he could barely handle your touch anymore. God, you were so close, the mounting of your pleasure beckoning wildly to you.
You realized that Eddie was muttering your name as if it was a prayer, and it flooded you with such desire and warmth and craving, causing you to cum so abruptly that it took you aback. You cried out and threw your head back, staring frantically up at the ceiling as your body became rigid for a moment. In the next breath, you all but melted on top of Eddie, slumping down and resting your head beside his on the pillow. You quivered as your orgasm consumed you entirely.
When you finally came back to yourself, it was thanks to Eddie’s cock slowly shrinking inside you, the sensation making you shudder and sigh as you opened your eyes again. Your faces were so close that you could feel Eddie’s breath upon your cheek, could barely see his eyes staring back at you. An unexpected laugh of satisfaction left your mouth, and you pressed your face into the pillow as if to suppress it. Eddie nuzzled his face into the side of your neck, arms lazily curling around your waist.
“God damn.” He breathed out, pulling back so you could lift your head to look at him again adoringly. You couldn't help but smile at one another, your chests still rising and falling as you composed yourselves. You drank in Eddie’s post-sex expression - the relaxed slant of his brow, his slack jaw, the daze in his eyes. The look made you want to kiss him again and again as if he was the air you breathed.
So, you leaned in to give him that chaste kiss that you desired, which caused his eyes to light up and a smile to spread across his handsome face when you pulled back. His arms tightened around you as he stared ardently upon your face. Shifting so that you two could lie on your sides, Eddie’s cock finally slid out of you, which caused you to moan one last time; the sound made him laugh smally, though you could somehow hear the tenderness in it.
“So… this makes you my real girlfriend now, right?” He asked with a large, silly grin, causing you to giggle and roll your eyes fondly. Lazily, you knotted your fingers into his messy mane of curls, taking a few moments to simply admire his handsome features.
“You want me to be?” Eddie pulled a face as if to say “are you fucking kinding me,” which made you laugh all over again. He narrowed his eyes playfully, challenging you to do the simple task of giving him a real answer. Affection and warmth swelled inside your chest, making you smile largely - all you could manage was to nod vigorously in agreement, feeling your cheeks growing hot at all the emotions you were feeling.
“Come on, you can say it, can’t you?” He teased wickedly, causing you to bite the inside of your lip. With a sincere look and a deep breath, you delicately cupped Eddie’s face in your hands, holding his stare firmly as you tried to control the joyful grin on your lips.
“Eddie,” You started, your tone clearly amusing him, which nearly made you giggle again; luckily, you composed yourself, “I’m your real girlfriend now.”
His smile was large and dazzling and enchanting, his dark eyes tender as they looked about your face with what must have been all the happiness in the world. He leaned in a hair closer, forehead against yours once more as he whispered on your lips, “That’s all I needed to hear, princess.”
.
.
addt. a/n: I can't thank everyone enough for following along with this story, it's one that's so very special to me, and it warms my heart to know others love it as well! I could write an entire essay full of things I'd like to say about this little fic, but I'll spare everyone of my ramblings. So, how soon should I post the epilogue 👀
@3rd-conchord @a-queen-blr @adelalaaa @adversary713 @avalon-wolf
@costellation-hunter @daisy-munson @daisyridleyss @damon-loves-pie @damp4eddie
@dreamerjj @eddiernunson @feralgoblinbabe @frogtape @fromasgardandback
@fckyeahlames @graciehams @kellsck @kthomps914 @littlexdeaths
@lotrefcp @love-anonymous-writer @marrowfrog00 @maskofmirrors @mewchiili
@miaajaade @miss-celestial-being @mmmunson @moonisu @munsonssweets
@no-bueno-writer @nxrdamp @ollieolive @rach5ive @rcailleachcola
@sapphire4082 @sassidykassidy @sav12321 @seatbacksandtraytables @sheneedsrocknroll92
@steeldaisies @stormgrl19 @teethvenom @tvserie-s-world @twihard28
@urlivingdeadgirl @v1per1ne @welcometohellsock @whats-my-question @xxsxdghxstxx
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girl4music · 2 days ago
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That’s it. Anyone with the “me and my own” ideology will get clapped back.
People that actually care to help people without asking for anything in return will also get their due.
That’s just the way of the Universe.
When you’re already well off, why do you need to be accounted for? Harris specifically was talking about who wasn’t. She was addressing the poor because she knew that’s where things needed to change the most.
The people she didn’t address are not going to be impacted in any negative way. Their lives will stay relatively the same. She didn’t speak to you because she didn’t need to because you’re fine as you are.
On the other hand, Trump is also addressing the poor and minorities. Speaking directly to them. But not with love and care. With hatred and revenge. The opposite.’
He wants to make things worse for them and now he can. So if you voted for him or you didn’t even vote at all - it’s on you why things are going to be much worse from now on. And if you think you won’t be negatively impacted by it because Trump is on your side…
Think again. Because incompetency impacts everyone.
No Harris wasn’t promising the rich and the majorities something. But that didn’t mean she was out to get you. That didn’t mean that she wanted to hurt you.
She simply saw it as you already had what you needed.
There were many others that did not.
She chose to address them.
Look for EVERYONE to live comfortable lives, then everyone has also got to learn to share and to be a community. Giving and getting is a transaction between each other. This is normal. This is natural. This is the way it should be. Greed and hoarding wealth doesn’t really help anyone in the long run and that’s not well understood in America because they’ve lived an entire history through a culture of taking from others. From theft. They never question it not because they’re dumb but because they don’t realize it this is how it’s always been and how it’s always been has always being wrong.
Being afraid of community and socialism. Taught that it’s inherently bad for them and to always look out for themselves and their own first. It’s just not The Way.
Having a black woman as President for the first time would have been revolutionary for them. it would have been a start to setting things right because they’ve never been right. Keeping to tradition doesn’t always mean better because that tradition could be awful. All of this I’m writing right now only sounds so bad because it’s coming from someone that doesn’t live in America but still has lived through a Western culture that’s majorly the same and has never understood it.
See I’m a Westerner but I don’t understand Western culture and I never really have. It’s like I was born with the soul or someone Eastern. Someone whose worldview of philosophy is inherently non-dual because when I look at a person - regardless of what kind of person they are or might be - I don’t see a difference.
We all want to live and thrive and prosper but so many of us have an understanding that goes against that goal just by virtue of “well, what do I get out of it?”
You get what you’ve always had. The means to survive. If you believe that’s not enough then I don’t know what to tell you. It’s more than enough for those that don’t currently have it and are fucking desperate for it.
Bottom line is you’ve got to give a little - to sacrifice or compromise on something - to set the balance right.
Harris was the right person to lead to be able to do this. Or at least make the attempt to. What you have now - with Trump - is a lesson. And I hope you learn it well.
Hatred will never make anything better for anyone. All it does it makes it much much much worse for everyone.
You can call this “virtue-signalling” or being “morally superior” if you want. I don’t care. No, America is not my home. No, I couldn’t vote. It doesn’t matter to me.
But I still very much care about the situation because I am a human being. And I honestly think that’s all that’s needed to do the right thing at the end of the day. If you care about something or somebody other than yourself.
You know politics is whatever but people have forgotten how to be a fucking person and that’s very concerning.
You can play heroes vs villains to your dying day and see how much you’ve “gained” out of doing it then.
Rant over.
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White conservative America will vote for whiteness and patriarchy.
White conservative America would rather have Putin in the White House before Kamala Harris.
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suzukiblu · 21 hours ago
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Day ten of “obligatory sugar baby Kon” behind the cut. tw: implications of past grooming/abuse and the inherent problems that causes for someone who was in that situation and hasn’t processed it trying to have a relationship with someone actually age-appropriate. prev: (( chrono || non-chrono ))
“I mean–it’s nice,” Kon says, smiling just as helplessly into his collar and keeping his eyes on the sidewalk as they walk. “Just, you know, it’s not the kinda stuff you usually get me. Like–it’s just, you know–pretty, or whatever. It’s not for anything. Like, I can’t wear it for you and it’s not, you know, food or a game or anything.” 
Tim did not actually realize that he hadn't bought Kon anything that didn't count as “useful” yet, though given the video games and candy and jewelry he's pretty sure they just have different definitions of what “useful” actually is. Also he needs to take a moment to not burn alive over Kon saying the phrase “wear it for you” again, which definitely takes the full moment, because Jesus Christ. 
That has not gotten any less affecting, yeah. 
“Oh, I guess,” he says in his best imitation of a normal person's normal voice. “I didn't really think about that. I just thought you might like it, so I got it for you.” 
Kon somehow finds a new shade of red to turn that honestly might actually be a Kryptonian-related one, considering the intensity of it. It is, unfortunately, cute as fuck. 
“I mean, I do like buying you clothes and stuff, obviously. You look really nice in that outfit, for one,” Tim says, and Kon glances away again, still smiling helplessly and still just as red-faced. He really does blush so easy. It’s weird, Tim thinks, given how much flirting he does. But maybe Kon’s just the “can dish it out but can’t take it” type, he guesses. 
Alternately, maybe people just aren’t complimenting him as often as he deserves and he's not used to hearing it. 
. . . Tim makes a mental note to pencil in some affirmations in Young Justice’s next training session and also to buy Kon even more flowers than he was already planning to. Flowers that come with little hand-written cards that say nice things about him, specifically. 
“You better think I look nice in it, pretty boy,” Kon says, biting his lip around another grin. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you wanted me all fancied up.” 
“I mean, don’t get me wrong, I liked the crop top too,” Tim allows, and Kon bursts into laughter and then lets go of his jacket collar and just–beams at him, actually. Just–literally actually beams, brighter than anything in Gotham that doesn’t run on electricity. 
Tim manages not to step off the sidewalk into traffic by Robin-reflexes alone and literally nothing else. 
Jesus, that expression. 
“I like, uh–that,” Kon says, and then blushes a little darker again. “Um–I mean, I like that you, uh . . . like to get me stuff you think I look good in. Uh. I don’t know how to say this without it sounding weird, fuck, just–just I like it.” 
“Oh,” Tim says. The warehouse district in his brain is a lost cause; the fire has officially spread to the docks and across downtown. His mental Gotham is going the way of 1871 Chicago, he’s pretty sure. “Uh–um, good. I’m glad.” 
“It’s just, um–I dunno, it’s just nice to look nice for somebody,” Kon murmurs a little bit shyly, tugging his jacket collar up over his mouth again but still obviously smiling behind it. Tim isn’t sure if that’s a line of thought he should be concerned by after the kind of things Kon was saying earlier, if–“Instead of, you know. For everybody.” 
. . . Tim decides that actually, never mind the concern. Kon can look as good for him as he wants to, if what Kon’s used to is being stuck having to look good for some stupid ad campaign or magazine shoot or what the frick ever. And like–it’s not like he has a problem with Kon wanting to wear things he thinks he’ll like. That is pretty much the opposite of a problem for him, in fact. 
It probably explains the makeup, too. There were definitely not any ad campaigns with glitter eyeliner or nail polish involved. 
. . . not that Tim’s seen all the ad campaigns or anything, just–
Alright, fine, he’s seen all the ad campaigns. That’s just Bat SOP, alright? And definitely only Bat SOP.
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shitsndgiggs · 3 days ago
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Hii
Can you do anything about lamine being jealous/ how he would act when he is jealous
POUTY BOYFRIEND - LAMINE YAMAL
When Lamine gets jealous, he gets pouty
Lamine Yamal x model! reader
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The sun was setting over the city as Lamine and I walked through one of our favorite streets, lined with cafes and boutiques.
It had been a quiet day, just the two of us, taking a break from the usual rush of life. But, of course, when you're both public figures, peace is rare.
As we walked past a small café, a few people stopped and stared. I could feel Lamine tense up beside me, a small smile on his face as he nodded politely to a few fans who recognized him.
I squeezed his hand, making sure he knew I was there with him, but then it happened.
A group of people — mostly teenagers — spotted us and immediately started coming over. One of them, a young girl, recognized me and shouted my name, and before I knew it, they were asking for photos.
“(Y/N), oh my god, can we get a picture with you?” one of the girls asked, clearly excited. I smiled and nodded, stepping forward to pose with them.
“Yeah, of course!” I said, trying to be as friendly as I could.
Lamine, already used to the attention, stood back and let me do my thing. But then, as I posed for the picture, I noticed a guy in the group — maybe a little too excited — moving closer to me, his hand casually resting on my lower back as he smiled for the photo.
It wasn’t much at first, just a brief touch, but it lingered. And that was when I saw it — Lamine’s smile faltered, his eyes darkened ever so slightly as he watched the guy’s hand stay on my back a second too long.
Before I could turn around, another fan shouted for him, and he was quickly surrounded by people wanting their own picture with the star.
As I stepped away from the fan group, I caught Lamine’s eye. He didn’t come over to me right away, but I could tell something was off.
He was doing that thing — the thing where his brow furrows and his lips press into a little pout whenever he felt like something was bothering him.
I grinned to myself, already knowing what was going on.
“Everything okay, amor?” I asked, trying to hide the amusement in my voice.
He didn’t respond immediately, his eyes just watching me and the group of fans as they thanked me for the photo. When I glanced at him again, I could see his jaw clenched.
“You’re really popular, huh?” he said, his tone dripping with something between jealousy and playfulness.
I raised an eyebrow, trying to stifle a laugh. “I’m just doing my job, Lamine. It’s not a big deal.”
But he didn’t seem convinced. He took a step closer to me, his hand slipping into mine as he leaned in slightly. “That guy was standing a little too close to you, don’t you think?”
I smirked, realizing he was being serious. “Oh, come on. You’re not actually jealous, are you?”
He huffed, his eyes narrowing playfully. “I’m not jealous. Just... protective.” He raised an eyebrow, but the pout on his lips gave him away.
I couldn’t help it — I burst out laughing. “You’re so cute when you’re jealous.”
Lamine’s pout deepened, his arms wrapping around me to pull me close. “I’m not cute. I’m serious.”
I chuckled, resting my hand on his chest. “Okay, Mr. Protective. I’m all yours, you know that, right?”
He finally let out a small sigh, but the pout didn’t leave his face. “I know. But sometimes, I just... don’t like sharing.”
I gave him a teasing look, running a finger along his jawline. “I don’t like sharing either. But you know I’m not going anywhere.”
That seemed to settle him for a moment. His arms tightened around me, and he leaned in, planting a soft kiss on my forehead. “Good. Because if you go anywhere, I’ll have to follow you.”
I giggled at his over-the-top statement, but I couldn’t help feeling a little flattered. “Lamine, you're too much.”
Lamine’s pout finally faded, though his possessiveness was still evident in the way he held me. “I just don’t like it when other guys get any ideas,” he said quietly, his hands tracing small patterns on my back.
I smiled up at him, brushing my thumb over his jaw. “And I don’t like it when girls try to get too close to you either, you know? But I don’t get pouty about it.”
Lamine grinned, leaning down to kiss me gently on the lips. “You should, though. Then I’d feel better about it.”
“You’re unbelievable,” I teased, but kissed him back anyway.
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