#i need like three thousand more words to cover the rest

[lokis-army-77]

Private Viewing

Camboy!Eddie Munson x fem reader

Word Count: 6.8k

What happens when your favorite camboy is in your class? You should stop watching his content... or should you? What happens when you are eventually paired together for a project? Everything will be just fine, won't it?

Warning: 18 +. This is pure fucking filth. Spit, masturbation (m and f), use of vibrators and fleshlight, choking, multiple orgasms, squirting, oral (f reviving), fingering, voyeurism? Soft!dom Eddie, tell me if I'm missing anything.

Thank you @lesservillain for giving me this wonderful idea. 💗 and @munson-blurbs for figuring out if I should do this for Steve or Eddie and for helping give me a title💗.

Masterlist

Nothing but slick sounds filled your room, the occasional deep moan calling out from your laptop speakers accompanying your own sweet cries. The guy on the screen, Ed as he called himself, or DungeonMaster as he was known on Only Fans and Twitter, was fisting his cock in his heavily ringed hand. He was putting on a show for more than ten thousand viewers but the way he stared down the camera with those dark eyes made you think he was watching you, fucking his hand to the way you were pumping your fingers in and out of your soaking wet pussy. 

You had stumbled upon his Twitter three months ago and he immediately captured your eye. The way his tattoos wrapped around his pale skin, how he wasn’t all lean muscle like the other OF guys, his tummy by no means a six-pack but he still looked strong enough to sweep you off your feet with ease. His moans were heavenly and so was the deep timber of his force as he praised you through the thirty-second video clip. It was all enough to convert you from your usual consumption of smutty books to the infamous Only Fans sight. 

Since then, his streams and videos have become the one and only thing you get off to. And like then, tonight was no exception. 

You were so close to the edge, Ed’s moans spurring you on. Your fingers move at an almost inhuman pace in and out, in and out. 

“Rub that clit for me, baby. Need you to cum.” He groaned, head resting on his shoulder as he continued you pleasure himself. 

“Fuck!” You gasp as you rub your clit with your free hand. Your rhythm is horribly off but it doesn’t matter, you are so close to cumming. So so so close. “Please,” you beg out into your empty room. You aren’t too sure why or what you are pleading for. More friction? More fingers? More words of encouragement from him? Maybe you’re asking to cum? 

It’s like he had heard you through the screen as he moaned out, “That’s a good girl. Just like that. Doing so well for me. You gonna cum baby? Yeah? Me too. Want me to count for you?” He nods his head lazily. “I knew you would baby. Okay. Five.”

You want to cry.

“Four.” 

The strings tugging inside you are becoming taut.

“Three.”

You feel like you’re going to explode. He’s counting too slowly.

“Two.”

The tears are flowing now.

“One.”

You let out a strangled scream.

“Cum baby. Do it, now.”

Your walls clench around your fingers and your legs snap shut, trapping your fingers. Every muscle in your body is shuddering as those strings snap and your release comes out in a stream, wetting your hand and the bed. Your hearing has gone, there’s a ringing in your ears but you can faintly hear Ed cumming as well. 

With watery vision and slow movements, you turn to face your laptop screen just in time to see his tattoo-covered chest painted with milky white ropes of cum. 

When the ringing subsides you hear him say more clearly, “Thata girl. Always make me cum so much.” He takes a towel and wipes off his chest and stomach before adjusting the camera view to the shoulders up. “Get you some rest baby, I’ll see you on Thursday.” 

And then the live is over. 

Slowly, sluggishly, you remove your hands from between your legs and begin the now regular clean-up routine before going to bed. 

…

Three days later, Thursday rolls around, and thus begins the fall semester of your junior year of college. It’s a groggy morning, everyone is tired and very unenthusiastic about having an 8 a.m. advanced music composition class. 

You had struggled to get out of bed at six this morning just to get one of the dorm showers first before they were all taken up. Luckily two of the five were open and you were able to get to class a whole twenty minutes early, even having time to grab coffee at the on-campus Starbucks on the way.

The music building was old and the tables you and your fellow students sat at were even older. It all added to the sleepy ambiance. Your eyes drooped and you yawned every time someone else did, the black coffee you had chugged not doing anything for you. 

You’re only awoken when your professor, a stout old man with a very severe receding hairline, slams open the door to the classroom a little too hard and it hits the brick wall, creating a loud, startling bang. 

He apologizes before making his introduction.  He then gets out a clipboard with a sheet attached and hands it off to a girl in the front row, instructing everyone to fill in their name and school email for his role sheet.

It’s only once you’ve finished and passed the clipboard on, that you notice the guy two seats down from you looks vaguely familiar. You can’t quite put a finger on it and it bugs you. 

His hair is pulled back into a messy bun and his clothes make him look like the alternative guy of your dreams back in high school. He’s got rings on almost every finger and an aura that just screams confidence. 

It begins to become a problem, your inability to place this guy's face. You’ve only taken a handful of notes the entire first hour and thirty minutes into this two-hour class. Your eyes are constantly staring at him no matter how hard you try to make yourself pay attention. 

Then, he raises his hand to answer one of your professor's questions. That’s when it clicks. Your pen falls from your grasp and your mouth forms an O. 

“Oh my fucking god. No. It can’t be.” You think to yourself but just to be sure you take out your phone, turn the brightness and volume down, and hide it under the table. You open Twitter as fast as you can and you don’t even have to look for his user, he’s the first post on the screen. 

Ed @ DungeonMaster86 was boldly displayed above a picture of the guy sitting next to you with his massive dick in his hand. 

It’s a wonder you weren’t caught with how you practically choked on thin air and began furiously looking from your phone to the guy and then back to your phone. 

Your stomach drops. You can’t keep watching his videos, can you? That wouldn’t be right. That would be weird, watching the porn your classmate makes. 

When class is finally called to an end you pack up as quickly as you can and bolt out the door to your next class, hoping that by getting away from Ed, you'd be able to concentrate. Out of sight, out of mind.

That statement turns out to be false when he is in your next class and when you spot him in the student commons talking with another guy. It's like once you made the connection of who he was, he was everywhere.

…

Arriving back at your dorm, you throw your backpack on your desk, snatch your laptop out of it, and struggle to jump up onto your bed. Never had you been so thankful for the single dorm than this moment as your curser hovered over the bookmarked Only Fans page at the top of your screen. No roommate meant no one would see the moral dilemma you were currently losing with yourself. 

‘You know him, it’s wrong to keep watching his videos.”

‘What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him though. The only way he would know you are watching is if you tell him, you aren’t going to tell him, are you?’

‘No…’ 

‘Then it’s okay, it’ll just add an extra element of taboo to his streams. Plus, he’d miss you in the chat.’

You sigh as the devil on your shoulder wins out once again, talking you into something you know you shouldn’t be. But hey, it feels good to be bad. 

Steadily, you click on his bookmarked profile and the first thing to pop up is the live stream that is currently in session. And against your better judgment, you enter the stream.

He’s only just started, people are slowly filtering in. Ed is sitting on the edge of his bed, shirt off, and a singular, ringed hand teasing himself through his black jeans. 

You breathe a sigh as he looks into the camera, eyes half-lidded, luring you in. It does the job, because in an instant your fingers are typing out a message in chat. 

Princess23: hi Ed

His eyes flicker as he reads his messages, smiling as he replies to you. "Hi, Princess. How's my girl been?"

There's a bubble of excitement at the fact that he recognizes your username, even if you've been a regular in the chat for months.

Princess23: stressful… you've been distracting me.

The reply to his question is truer than he realizes. 

"Aww, princess, is that so? You've been thinking of me?" He leans back on his free elbow, still groping himself with the other hand.

Princess23: yes. been thinking about your cock, how much I want it in my mouth. 

It's one of the less bold comments you make but it makes you blush all the same, especially now.

"Yeah? You want me to fuck that pretty little mouth? Of yours?"

Princess23: yes please

"Mmm." He hums, fingers now fumbling with the button and zipper of his jeans. 

You set your laptop to the side and start to situate yourself. Slowly taking your clothes off one by one. 

Ed replies to a few more comments before announcing that it's time to start.

He leaves the screen for just a moment before coming back with something in his hand. Smirking at the camera he shows it. A flashlight in the shape of a mouth.

"This one’s for you, Princess. Since you need my dick so bad," Ed explains. He sets it on his bed before making a show of taking his jeans and boxers off. 

As you watch, your hands roam your body. Fingers pinching and pulling at your sensitive nipples before trailing down. The light touch over your ribs makes you giggle. Then you rub and scratch at the inside of your thighs. 

Ed's moans are now coming through your speakers, you tilt your head to watch.

"Spit on my cock baby, get it nice and wet for me." He commands before spitting in his own hand and rubbing it on his thick length. 

"Your mouth looks so pretty like this, waiting, drooling for me. Need me to fill it so bad don't you, baby?" 

"Yes." You answer him breathlessly, fingers teasing around your mound. 

You watch and he sits back down on his bed, thighs spread, a hand cupping his balls and the other grabbing the fleshlight. He lets out a long, drawn-out moan when he inserts his cock into the fake mouth. 

"Fuck baby, your mouth feels so perfect." 

You can't help but whine. Allowing your fingers to finally circle your clit. 

The both of you go one like this for a bit. Him fucking the fleshlight and you massaging your clit. But then you need more, more than your hand can give you. So you reach to your bedside table, stretching at an uncomfortable angle to open the drawer and pull out the purple mini wand you kept there.

The vibrations start slow and constant as you press the toy to your clit. It pulls soft, quiet noises from you as you watch your computer screen. Your mind is blank, filled only with the pretty sounds Ed is making, the way his body looks, and the pleasure between your legs.

There are no thoughts. You follow his lead. When his hand speeds up, you kick up the vibrations, when he slows down, you turn the vibrator back to the first level. 

It's a rollercoaster, almost, taking your pleasure for a ride. The stream isn't even done yet when you feel that tight pull in your abdomen. The toy works you up fast. 

So you stop. Taking the toy away and changing positions. On your hands and knees, you hug a pillow to your chest and prop the toy up under you, keeping it standing as you push your clit down onto it. It's not even on and it's making your hips buck in sensitivity.

You turn it back on and immediately feel the slick seeping from your cunt and running down the toy. 

"Oh fuck," you cry.  Your eyes locked on the screen where Ed has also changed positions. 

He's got his own toy lying on the bed and he's laying over it. The way his leg and glute muscles contract as he thrusts into the toy has you memorized. 

He chants, "Baby, baby, baby." Over and over. What you would give to have him chanting your name instead. Like a prearranged falling from his lips, praising you, worshiping you.

The need for him grows and so does the tightness in your core. 

Reaching your hand down you turn the speed up. Your hips buck into the toy and you bury your face in the pillow. You're close.

He’s not far behind. Peering up from your pillow you can see his thrusts are sputtering. Sporadic as he draws close to his end. 

“God dammit, baby. Gonna cum in this perfect mouth of yours. Fuck. Can you swallow it like the good pet you are? Hum? The good pet I know you can be?”

“Yes.” You turn up the vibrator. “Fuck, wanna swallow all of you. Please.” 

The vibrations are becoming too much but you keep the toy pressed into you, hips shaking at the feeling of being overstimulated. 

Without warning, you cum with a guttural cry into your pillow. Body spasming, muscles twitching. You can still hear Ed moaning and the sloppy sounds of his cock fucking the fleshlight. 

With barely any energy you reach down between your heavy body and the bed and turn your toy off. You don’t even bother with your computer, too exhausted and fucked out to exit the stream. You fall asleep to the sounds of your new classmate's self-pleasure. 

…

It’s October now. The semester is halfway over and you’ve still been watching Ed, or Eddie. You learned his actual name in class when your professor called role on him by name the second week. 

Today you are being assigned a partner for the final project. You have your fingers crossed that Eddie won’t be chosen as your partner but as your professor calls out pairs, it seems luck is against you. 

You freeze when your name is called and directly after so is Eddie’s. You groan internally. How the hell are you supposed to do this? You already have trouble concentrating when he sits two seats away, what’s going to happen when he actually interacts with you?

There isn’t much time to think about that as he abruptly moves from his seat to the one directly next to you. 

“Hi.” He says, eyes bright and expectant. “I’m Eddie.” He holds out his hand for you to shake but you just stare at him. He looks at you curiously before waving his hand in front of your face. “Hello? Cat got your tongue?”

You snap out of your stupor and accept his hand, shaking it as you introduce yourself. “Sorry. I was a bit out of it.” You say, trying to play it off as you just staring off into space. 

“No problem.” He smiles. “Uh, do you want to exchange numbers so we can figure out when we can work on this together?” 

“Oh, yeah. Here,” You open your phone and push it to him with the messages app open. “You can text yourself.” 

He does just that, even going as far as putting in his contact name as Eddie with the skull and crossbones emoji beside it. 

“Great. I’ll text you when I’m free. I have work on Mondays and Thursdays, sometimes on Saturdays, but other than that I’m usually free.”

You nearly choke when you realize he’s given you his streaming schedule. “I- uh. Okay. Just text me when you can.”

"Sure thing sweetheart." He grins at you before standing, grabbing his things, and heading out of class along with the rest of the students. 

You sit there for a minute, thinking. God, what are you getting yourself into?

…

You both have finally come up with meeting times that work for both of you. Tuesday and Wednesday after seven. Giving you time to get to the school library after the closing shift at your on-campus job. 

It’s been two weeks of working together on this project and it’s been easier than you had originally thought to concentrate on the task at hand and keep your dirty thoughts at bay. 

Right now, you are both sitting in one of the private study rooms looking at Eddie’s computer as he explains why this particular cord progression would fit with the emotions you are trying to convey in your composition. 

You sigh, “Eddie, as much as I love that sound, I really don’t think it fits with the overall composition of the song. It isn’t as emotionally charged as I’d like it to be.”

“Well show me something similar to what you’re wanting.” He rakes his hand through his hair. It’s been a long night for each of you. It seems that every new section of the song you are creating for the project gives you a new challenge to work through together. 

You pull out your phone and Eddie leans over to watch as you begin to type. There is a particular song you are thinking of that has the weight and emotion you are trying to convey with your own music and as you type the first letter of the song, O, the first suggestion that pops up is onlyfans/DungeonMaster. 

Mortified, you slam your phone down on the table. Eddie looks at you with an eyebrow raised. 

“What was that?” He asks.

“What was what?” You answer. 

“Why did you slam your phone down?”

“Oh, I just forgot the title of the song.”

“Right…” He scratches under his chin and then stretches back in his chair. “Why don’t we call it quits for tonight? It’s getting late and we aren’t going to agree on anything if we’re both tired.”

A yawn suddenly comes up out of nowhere and you then realize how tired you actually are. “That sounds good to me.” You agree with Eddie and begin packing up your things. You don’t want to be with him longer than you need to be right now, even if he seemingly didn’t notice his OF user pop up on your phone screen. 

“Bye Eddie.” You wave to him on your way out the door.

Faintly you hear him call out to you, giving a goodbye of his own. "See ya, sweetheart."

… 

After your little slip, you began avoiding Eddie. At least in person, you still tuned into his streams. You bailed on the next three meetups you had planned, helping only through voice notes and text. Eddie said he understood when you said your boss was forcing you to stay late to deep clean. 

It was Thursday now and when you saw him in class he barely looked your way and you wondered if he had seen what you hoped he had not. 

You tried stopping him once your lecture was over, feeling an anxiousness creeping into your mind. Your conscience had been telling you to come clean. To explain your perversion. Let him know you watched him, that you paid to enjoy seeing him fuck into a toy or his hand. 

You called out his name and reached for his arm. "Eddie."

He turns to you. "Hum?"

You take a deep breath to ground yourself. "I wanted to say sorry for not being able to come help with the project."

"It's okay, you said you had work." He replies, unbothered. 

"No, Eddie, I didn't get held back at work. That was a lie."

He doesn't look all too surprised. 

"I've kinda been avoiding you because- well, because of what I think you might have seen on my phone that day."

Eddie stops you there. "Can this wait until later? I've really got some errands to run before work."

"Oh, uh, yeah. Sorry to keep you Ed." You had meant it as a nickname but as it came pushing past your lips it was too late to take it back. You had never heard anyone call him that outside of his onlyfans. 

You watched as his eyes widened at the name and a spark went off behind them. "I'll see you later sweetheart." The smirk he gives you isn't the usual playful one you'd seen him throw before. No, this was sinister, like he knew.

Your heart fell into your stomach as you watched him walk away, leaving you alone.

Tonight as you logged into the stream, it wasn’t to get off. It was to see if he'd show any signs of knowing you might be lurking about among the thousands of viewers.

When the video loads, Eddie is sitting in his desk chair. He's talking to the chat like he always does. There's something different in the atmosphere around him, mischief if you've placed it correctly. 

He keeps replying to comments until the clock reaches 6:10. It's time for the show to begin. 

"Tonight I have a very special treat for you guys." Eddie starts as he reaches over just off camera to his desk. "I've got the wand out." 

The chat erupts. Eddie doesn't bring his vibrator out often, but when he does, you know it's going to be a good show for every party involved. 

"I would also like to say hello to a special quest in the stream tonight." Eddie’s smirk gets bigger and your heart pounds in your chest. "Hi, sweetheart. Hope you enjoy yourself." 

You feel like you've been shot. There's a ringing in your ears and your breathing has stopped. 

He knows. Fuck. He definitely knows. You've never heard him say that pet name on camera. It's always babe or baby when he refers to the collective whole watching the stream. Eddie has only ever used that name with you.

Eddie starts up the vibrator, tracing it over his covered cock. He hums at the feeling, loud and long. 

You clench your thighs together. You tell yourself you should stop watching but you can't bring yourself to. 

'He knows." You argue with yourself.

'But he wants you to watch. Why else would he say his pet name for you? Why else would he say he hopes you enjoy yourself? He knows and he likes it.'

The devil on your shoulder makes sense again and you curse it. 

So, you watch. Intently, you watch. Your eyes never leave the screen. 

Eddie whimpers once he has his cock out of his pants. The tip is a deep purple/red color, showing how worked up he's gotten already.

He lets his head fall back, resting on his chair as he moves the vibrator down to his balls. He presses it into himself before dragging it up his shaft and to the head. 

You feel a wetness seeping into the cotton of your panties and as his legs widen, yours press together more. 

"Oh fuck. Oh fuck, sweetheart." Eddie moans, mouth open slack and eyes squeezed shut. 

You can't believe he's saying your pet name and making those noises. You wonder what he's thinking about. How you'd look sucking on his cock? Maybe what it would be like to be pounding into you, watching your cunt suck him in and clench around him. 

Eddie grits his teeth when he turns the speed up. One hand is holding the vibrator just at the frenulum while the other is cupping and squeezing his balls. 

Your thoughts are running wild and your hips have started to rock in search of some kind of friction.

He moves his hand from his balls and begins to tug on his shaft. Deep guttural moans fill the air, and the sound of them turns you on even more. 

It's not long before Eddie is bucking his cock into his hand. You can see his muscles straining in his legs as he does. 

"Fuck fuck fuck- ah fuck sweetheart, you've got me so close. Fuck." His voice is pinched. You can see the exhaustion in the furrow of his eyebrows as he pressed the vibrator over his tip, the change in placement making his hips shudder. “God, I’m gonna cum. The thought of you is gonna make me cum, sweetheart.” 

Hearing his breathy, deep, timber of a voice say that the thought of you was going to do him in had you thinking you might just cum too. No touching required, just Eddie and his beautiful noises. 

In a matter of seconds, Eddie is choking on his words as his balls go taut. He lets out a drawn-out grunt and ropes of cum begin to spurt out over his chest, covering him like a painting. He doesn’t even bother to clean himself up before he looks into the camera and says good night, chuckling when he mentions your particular pet name again. Then, the screen goes dark. 

…

Fridays are slow in the used bookshop you work at. Especially after 4:30. No one had been inside in maybe an hour? Your boss left early, leaving you alone to close down at 6. For the past fifteen minutes, you’ve been putting misplaced books back where they belong, sweeping, and tidying up anything else you see. 

Because of the usual slowness, you have your headphones on. The music isn’t loud but it does drown out the sound of the bell chiming as someone enters the building. You are unaware of the person creeping up behind you until you are suddenly turned around and corralled against the bookshelf. 

You let out an alarmed screech only for your mouth to be covered by a big, warm hand. Your headphones fall to the floor beside you as they are accidentally knocked off your head. You hear his voice then, whispering in your ear. 

“Hi, Sweetheart.” 

“Eddie-” You heave, relieved it wasn’t someone coming to kill you in cold blood.

“Did you enjoy my show last night?” He leans back, caressing a strand of hair away from your face. 

You shake your head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” You deny. Even after you had told yourself you would come clean to him, granted that was before you knew he knew your secret. 

“You don’t know, do you? I think you do why else would my account have popped up on your search suggestions the other day?” 

Keeping your mouth shut, you refuse to answer. 

Eddie takes your chin between his fingers and moves your face to the side as he leans into you. His lips tickle the shell of your ear as he speaks again. “So… Which one of my subs are you? Hum?”

Your mouth opens but nothing comes out. 

Eddie tuts. “Don’t get all shy on me. Tell me. Now.” His tone is dominating. It’s one thing to hear it over a computer speaker, it's another when you hear it in person. His presence alone had your knees knocking. 

“I-I,” You can't help but stutter. “It’s Princess23.” You shamefully tell him your user, eyes looking anywhere but his.

He sucks in a breath. “Oh, Princess. That was you?”

He forces you to look at him and you nod your head. 

You hate that he’s making you look him in the eye, but you can see what’s swirling around deep within them. Desire, lust, dominance, but nothing mean. Nothing hurtful. 

As you watch him, you catch the minute changes in his expression. His jaw clenches and his eyes darken, a hunger taking over as he stares you down. 

“I can give you a private show if you want, baby.” He leans back in. “Right here,” He nipps at your ear lobe. “Right now.” 

“Eddie, we can’t… We’re at my work.” 

He looks around you, head swiveling to peer down both ends of the aisle. “It’s fine Sweetheart, no one’s here but us, right?”

“Yes, but-”

He cuts you off with a finger over your lips. 

“Then let me show you why the real thing is so much better than what you’ve seen online.” He doesn’t give you time to think before his lips are on yours. 

They are soft, almost pillow-like as they mold against yours. His tongue slithers its way into your mouth, tasting you, he moans when he does. 

To you, he tastes like menthol cigarettes and black coffee with the faintest hint of weed. It’s intoxicating, and addicting. You’ve only had one taste and now you won't be able to function without him.  

His hand cups your cheek and pulls you closer. Your arms wrap around his neck, fingers tugging at his hair. His body keeps you pinned to the shelves and he spreads your legs by inserting one of his own between them.

With him being so much taller than you, it only takes you barely bending your knees for you to make contact with his thigh. You are thankful when he doesn’t stop you from humping his leg. The friction of you rubbing yourself against him has the seam of your pants pressing against your clit. It’s a wonderful pressure that leaves your mind blank. 

When he pulls away, you follow, not wanting his mouth to leave yours. Eddie chuckles when you give a needy whine. 

"It's okay baby, I'll give you what you want." He coos. "But first, since you wanna get yourself off, you've got to make yourself cum on my leg."

You pout. "But Eddie…"

"Ah ah, don't complain sweet girl, you'll only make it take longer. Now get to work."

You do as he says, rolling your hips with purpose against him. He doesn't help you at all, he only provides support and kissed along your jaw every few seconds as he watches you work. 

It's harder than you thought it would be. The layers of denim dulled the sensations yet added to the tension your clit felt as the fabric rubbed against it. 

"Mmm, fuck." You gasp, fingers gripping onto Eddie’s shoulders. "M'so close. Eddie, I'm so close."

He smiles at you and he gives your body gentle touches. "That's it, Princess. Let go. Being such a good girl for me."

You moan loudly at his praise. 

"That right sweet girl, use me to get yourself off. That's it, keep going."

His words are spurring you on, your hips, although losing their rhythm and steadiness, keep going strong. Then, you feel it. That tautness in your tummy and the ache in your bones. You are so close.

"Please, Eddie. Ah- so close. Need more." Your words are short and your hips move faster. 

"What is it, baby? What do you need?" Eddie asks, willing to give you just a little.

"Kiss me again," you beg. 

He obliges. Taking your face in his hands and practically devouring you. 

The canter of your hips stalls as your body shudders against him. A sticky wetness can now be felt,  uncomfortably, between your legs.

"So good for me." He praises.

You can feel how hard he is, his needy cock prominently pressing into your thigh.

"Wanna feel you. Eddie please, I need to feel you." You're practically begging him to fuck you now.

"Yeah, sweet girl? You need me to stretch that pretty pussy on my dick? Make you feel so good, baby." He trailed his kiss down to your neck, stopping only to suck and nip at the sensitive skin. 

You nod frantically. "Yes, yes Eddie. Need you inside me."

Hands rush to unbutton pants, fingers caress bare skin, breaths hitch. You tug at Eddie's pants impatiently as he pulls your own down. The sudden feeling of cold air hitting the pool of slick between your thighs. 

You are both a whirlwind of arms and clothes and a few books falling from their shelf. Eddie’s fingers make their way to your center, exploring between your folds. 

You throw your head back, cracking it on the shelf above. "Ow," You moan out in pain.

"Careful there, Sweetheart." He gives you another kiss and moves his unoccupied hand to cradle your head.

The pain is instantly forgotten when two of his thick fingers circle your clit before pushing into your entrance.

"Mmmm- god." He feels so good inside you, fingers curling into your walls. The wet slick of him moving fills the stagnant air of the bookstore.

"You're sucking me in, baby. Pussy squeezing me so tight." Eddie rests his forehead on yours, his breath mixing with your own. "Can't wait to feel you around my cock."

Gasping in response, you buck your hips up into his hand. "More-"

It doesn't take much convincing for Eddie to pull his hand from between your legs and position his hard length at your entrance. Slowly he slips inside, meeting no resistance with how wet you are. 

Eddie pushes into you, cock stretching you out farther than you think you've ever been before. His one hand rests on the back of your head while the other pushes your shaking hand out of his way as he goes to press it against your neck.

You grasp his arm, nails scratching his skin as he chokes you. 

"Oh- oh, Eddie. Fuck me." You cry, cunt fluttering around him. 

Your words are music to his ears. His pace begins steadily. In and out at a lazy, leisurely speed. Then he picks it up, hips bucking faster and faster. 

He's giving it all to you. Everything you've dreamed of since you saw him on your Twitter all those months ago.

The head of his cock is repeatedly hitting that one spot inside of you that makes your toes curl. You can’t keep yourself up. The feelings coursing through you have your knees buckling and Eddie does a good job at catching your weight. 

He stops his movements to try and situate you. “Come on, baby, gotta stand up.” 

You shake your head. “I can’t, s’too much.” Your heart is pounding in your chest, if you even tried to stand you would just fall again. “There's a couch.” You point to the back of the store. “It’s in the break room.” 

Eddie grunts as he hoists you up in his arms and follows your directions. 

The couch is old and made of leather. It is cold on your skin as Eddie lays you down and you shiver as he rips your pants and underwear from around your ankles. Never would you have ever imagined being naked from the waist down in your work break room. 

In contrast to the cool leather, Eddie’s hands are searing hot. He grips the back of your knees, picking your legs up and spreading you out. You’re almost folded in half. 

“Jesus fucking christ. You. Are. Beautiful.” He enunciated every word. The complement has you keening and clenching around nothing. “Fuck, look at that pretty cunt. She’s gaping for me.” Eddie smiles, eyes flickering to yours before looking back to your most intimate part. 

You let out a wonton gasp when he spits, a glob of it falling right atop your parted slit. Eddie takes a hand away and grabs his cock. He rubs the tip through your folds, giving your clit a heavy tap tap tap before entering you again and grabbing the back of your knee again. 

Eddie wastes no time in pistoning his hips into yours. The new angle gives him free range of movement to fuck you fast and deep. The skin of his thighs makes a sharp slapping sound when he connects with your ass, it sets the rhythm for the song of your shared moans. 

“Pull your shirt up.” He commands and you do as he says. Lifting your shirt up and over your breasts. Eddie lets out an irritated grunt at the sight of your bra. “That too.” He puffs out and you pull it up as far as it will allow. 

Your breasts bounce as Eddie fucks you mercilessly into the couch. His eyes are shamelessly trained on them. “Fucking hell, Princess. Gimmie our hands.” 

You reach out for him and he grabs your wrists, guiding you to hold your legs back like he had been doing. With the newfound freedom of his hands, he extends them out to play with your tits.  He pinches and tugs at your nipples, making you moan in pleasure as he continues his assault. His thrusts become faster, harder, more desperate. You know he's close and you can't take much more either. 

“Eddie… Ah- Eddie-” You babble out his name. You wiggle under his hold and the harsh prodding of his cock into your cervix. The strings of another orgasm are being pulled tight. 

He growls. “I know baby, I know. Fucking cum for me. Cum on my cock.” 

Tears well up in your eyes and begin to overflow. Your body writhes, back bowing, muscles straining. You’re on the precipice. 

Eddie sees how close you are and moves a hand down between your legs, circling his thumb over your slick-covered clit. 

“Oooh- Oh fuck!” You scream. “Shit shit shit shitshitshitshit…. Ah!” 

“Louder.” He moans. “Want the whole town to hear you sweet girl.” 

“Eddie! Oh, I’m there. I’m fucking there.” You cry, fat tears rolling down your cheeks as you let go. A scream erupts from your throat. Even in your ecstasy, you can feel Eddie’s tempo shift. He’s losing speed. 

“Goddammit. I cumming too.” Eddie whimpers, sinking into you fully. His cum fills you up and you can fill you as it runs down your ass as he pulls out. 

Your body is twitching as he moves you to lay more fully on the couch. He doesn’t follow though. No. He sinks to his knees and before your foggy mind can even comprehend it, he attaches his mouth to your pussy.  

You are pliant under his touch, unable to resist. His tongue explores you and you moan in pleasure. He’s lapping up the mixture of his cum and your slick, humming at the taste the whole time. 

You choke back a sob when his tongue flicks repeatedly over your clit before he begins to suck on the already abused bud. “Eddie, please.” Reaching down you tug on his hair but he doesn’t move. “Ed-” He starts shaking his head, burying himself in your pussy. 

Another orgasm is quickly approaching. Your breathing quickens and you can feel your body trembling as he works you up, sending you higher and higher until you can’t take it anymore. Your orgasm hits you like a wave, and your body spasms in pleasure. He doesn't stop, continuing his ministrations until you finally come down from your high once more.

“Christ. You taste so good.” He says as he crawls up your spent body. Draping himself over you he places kiss after tender kiss all over your face. “Did so good for me. I’m so proud of you.” 

“Yeah?” You whisper. 

“Mhum. So proud.” He grins, the light of the room catching in the wetness covering him from nose to chin. 

Eddie cuddles into you more and your eyes close. He’s exhausted you. You both lay there in silence, content in each other's presence. Eddie eventually falls asleep, his breathing slow and steady. You don’t have the heart or the energy to wake him. You stay awake, just barely, still in awe of what happened. 

It feels like hours have gone by when you finally do shake Eddie, calling out to him softly. He stirs, grumbling as he looks up at you. 

“Eds, baby, I need to lock up.” 

He only rests his head back down between your breasts. You shake him again. 

“Eddie.” You say it a bit more sternly. “Get up and I’ll let you take me back to yours.” 

That gets his attention and he’s up and dressing himself in an instant. You on the other hand are slower, feeling the prominent ache between your legs. He has to help you pull your panties and jeans back on. 

He has to help you close the store as well, your legs weak and not trusted to hold up your body weight without crumbling to the ground. 

Never had you thought this was how this would end. Sitting in the passenger seat of your favorite camboy's car as he drives you to his apartment, grinning like the Cheshire cat as you both think of all the fun things you’ll get up to. Round two was bound to be wilder than the first. 

[afewfantasies]

🗡️ꜰᴇʏᴅ'ꜱ ʙʟᴀᴅᴇ 🗡️ - III - Charms

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 5K

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: Feyd-Rautha X Reader

ᴘʟᴏᴛ: Danger is imminent, as is Feyd-Rautha's birthday celebration in the arena. Passion and fear abound as parties try to nagivate through new realities. Your desire for Feyd-Rautha is growing, along with the trust between you. Secrets are revealed and sexual appetites explored.

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: mentions of a sex dungeon, masturbation, aftercare, choking, inexperienced reader, heavy petting.

Part I 🖤 Part II 🖤 Masterlist

ᴘᴀʀᴛ - ɪɪɪ - ᴄʜᴀʀᴍꜱ

Trembling with anger Feyd-Rautha watches as the water runs crimson at the bottom of the cleansing chamber. The self cleaning mechanisms are turned to full capacity in attempt to free him of the sticky blood and debris of the nights terrors. A thousand cuts could never be enough. Your tears were more than that to Feyd. He’d broken his promise to protect you always. He had to send a message, cruelty had never truly come easy to him. After his father’s passing he learned quickly that brutality was the best means of survival. The worse his behaviour the more celebrated he became, soon the fear and respect in peoples eyes became his preferred drug. Pushing out the sadness and replacing it with a simmering rage did wonders for him. It opened the world to him. He’d earned the fear his name illicited. It had been a decade since he felt fear like the fear that nearly paralyzed him last night. The words in his headset had to be repeated several times. He found his chest heaving violently, there was not enough air in his lungs. He’d killed three men while still in the ship from lashing out, he couldn’t get to you fast enough. It was all taking too long. The journey back needed to happen at light speed. His chest felt tight as his head spun. How could he lose you so soon? How could anyone be so bold? So disrespectful, so careless with their life? The thought of losing you before he could ever truly be a husband to you tortured him more than he could bear. He’d found no relief in the fear of your eyes , how you clung to him, your trembling, your racing heart. Typically he revelled in it, but not then not with you. It was harrowing. He’d only found reprieve in the slowing of your heart rate, the slow relaxation of your muscles, the way you melted into him for safety. Then, he was able to take in your scent and how perfectly you fit in his arms. The softness of your flesh, the trust in your eyes, the feel of your lips on his. He hadn’t expected a kiss, nor did he feel he deserved one after failing you.

  Drying himself off Feyd dresses before heading to his armoury, too angry to rest before meeting the Baron. Hesitating he stops in front of your door as he had every day the past week. He’d decided against trying to enter then, but now things have changed. He needs to lay eyes on you before starting his day, physically - a screen won’t suffice. Sliding his hand into the reader it opens. He finds you brushing your hair into place. Your usual apprehension replaced with a surprised smile at the sight of him. He watches you as you put down the brush and walk into him. It takes him a moment to return the warm gesture taking in your scent and the feel of your body against his. Relief at your well being and resilience washes over him. It feels like it’s been minutes when you pull away and Feyd can’t remember the last time he engaged in something as pure and intimate as a long hug.

“Have you slept?” You ask looking into his weary eyes.

“I have to meet the Baron” Feyd responds feeling the need for you more. He stands behind you breathing you in and his hands hovers over the covered bruises on your skin.

“It doesn’t hurt anymore, I was able to brew a tea” you explain and he takes your hands looking at your bruised knuckles once again. It he could revive the men who’d harmed you to give them another million cuts he would. Bringing your hands to his lips he places kisses onto them hoping last night is the first of many kisses.

“I can postpone my fight if you need me to” Feyd says considerate of your mood and mental state. There’d been no time to watch you sleep last night while he had been administering your retribution but he had quickly scanned through the footage from your bedroom finding you tossing and turning all night. He’d never missed a night, not even while with his pets, his pleasure slaves had only been a slight distraction from his need for you.

“No, you must uphold your traditions” you advise.

“New traditions can be made” Feyd interjects.

“na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen has a reputation to protect. The people want to see you in the arena” you remind him.

“The people are not my concern” Feyd says looking into your eyes. His affection for you is clearer now. His level of attention, his concentration, his agony. Feyd is incapable of false moments. Pure passion personified, that’s the danger of him. His strength and weakness.

“Then they must be mine, Feyd there mustn’t be any perceived changes. As heir the peoples adoration of you is important.” You explain.

“Not more than yours” he confesses. He thought he lost you.

“Feyd, please” you whisper holding his hands. Your eyes look up at his and it’s only seconds before you see him cave. “Go to the Baron, prepare for your fight and I will be here with the guards or in the infirmary with Leia” you tell him just as a buzz sounds at the door. His hands go to his knives as he steps in front of you. After a moment he moves aside and you see Leia. She’s in a wheelchair.

“I can wait outside” she says holding up her hand. Feyd watches the girl with appreciation. Had Leia been killed or brutalized more seriously it would have completely ruined his chances with you.

“Leia please come in, we can have breakfast” you smile. For the first time Leia looks to Feyd-Rautha without averting her eyes, she points a respectfully slow nod in his direction in spite of her injuries. He returns the gesture watching as you make a space for your friend at your table. Content with the state of affairs he gives you a final look before heading out.

“na-Baron!” You call out stopping him in his tracks. He raises a brow and you motion for him to follow you into your private chambers. Tracking your steps he enters the room he already knows intimately from hours or surveillance. “You must try to withhold any affinity you have for me or it will be exploited. You have no other weaknesses and I would prefer to be a strength” you whisper. “Honesty” you whisper as his eyes search yours in confusion. He hadn’t known many women outside of handmaidens and pleasure slaves but what he had heard and learned in his years was that women were proud, they enjoyed affectionate displays and declarations, they were in constant competition with others to show and prove their mate to be the best.

“Would you prefer I stayed away as well?” He asks feeling slighted.

“No” you respond in earnest.

“May I return for dinner after training?” He asks.

“Yes” you respond and he recognizes a blush on your cheeks. He gets a head-rush and smiles pleased with your reception to him. If it was up to him the Baron could wait. The scent of your room is intoxicating. Almost as much as the sight out you without fear for him. Pressing his lips to your forehead he breathes you in, restraining his urges for more. He’d never known fear once his parents had passed only rage. The agony of his father’s loss was a suffering he didn’t want to bear again. He would heed your warning. Stepping back he sets the tone, the chemistry between you two is kinetic. He takes your hand placing a soft kiss over your bruises.

Letting go he leaves through the main room casting Leia an acknowledging glance. The main doors whoosh open and you hear him barking orders before they close. Turning to Leia you place a hand on her shoulder before sitting. She sees the change in you, the fall of your shoulders, the ease of your steps. She’d been worried since the abduction remembering vividly how long it took you to be somewhat alright after fleeing your home world. She had been there for the night terrors and the panic attacks, she had been there through your darkest days. In spite of your sometimes tenacious personality she had never seen you fight. You had taken hits on several occasions. It was against the Bene Gesserit way, each sister was to have a strong predisposition to survival for the breeding program - however with you it was never the case. The other sisters stopped picking on you when you were slow to react and a few of the others intervened. Leia knew more than most it didn’t bother you as they thought it did. But she saw you fight. Saw you fight with precision and intention as you reigned your head back to break the bastards nose. You’d waited for her instead of peeling off for the safety of self-preservation. You’d done that for her, for the both of you. Now you were sitting before her with an ease to you she hadn’t seen in years. Smiling she withholds her need to comment.

“What?” You ask looking up at her.

“Careful with that one or we both may be in these chairs” Leia winks and you shake your head at her vulgarity. “You can feel his affection for you from far away, he’s managing his desire quite well. Keep kissing him like you did last night and that restraint may snap” she warns. Sitting in front of her you feed her breakfast so she can nurse her injuries a little while longer.

“He’s in danger” you remind telepathically.

“It’ll be alright” she responds in the same way. Looking into Leia’s eyes gives you hope calming the nerves that have been on edge since the attack. She takes the fork from your hand holding it inspire of her injuries. You squeeze tight thankful she’s at your side. Leia had finished more of the sisterhoods training then you, she had been a successful component of the breeding program, she had been permitted into rooms and special councils. She was being prepared for espionage.  It was during her training when she had used her telepathic power of persuasion that you picked it up. It had worked on the entire room with the exception of you.

Your silence speaks volumes.

The sisterhood was supposed to protect you from the brutality your fathers fall caused not inflict more torture. Had Feyd-Rautha’s intention been to brutalize you, had he been everything everyone said he was you would have suffered thrice. Once with the fleeing of your home world, then for the weeks with Feyd-Rautha and finally at the hands of ‘The Beasts’ men. It was the kind of cruelty reserved for enemies and not allies.

“I’m finished with them” you speak plainly. Leia swallows seeing the seriousness in your eyes. She gives a slow nod feeling less victimized by the politics of it. She believed in the objective of achieving greater goods. As things stood now Feyd marrying the Princess would be ideal.

“As am I” she nods in solidarity.

________

Looking at your reflection in the shiny black stone table its hard to recognize yourself. Life with the Bene Gesserit, is a life of subtlety and intrigue, veils, headdresses and masks, there’s no room for displays of beauty, style or power outside of specific confines. All behaviour would be governed by the objectives of the order - only now you would be done with that. The curl of your lashes is striking, as well as the black lines on your lids. It’s not the Harkonnen way, but your mothers. Leia had been an advisor of sort as you tried your best to fashion an undo from memory to match the one your mother wore on special occasions. You had called in the seamstresses to adjust the fit on one of the robes provided in your closer. A floor length crimson piece with a hood. Cutting bout the high neckline and taking in the sides to fit your figure is a bold choice but it’s Feyd-Rautha’s birthday tomorrow and you intend to try to make it special for him. The replica sword of the one in your home world lays across the table sheathed in an intricate scabbard Leia helped you create over the last week. There would be little time to present it to him tomorrow, so tonight would have to do.

Looking at the clock you see its far past the time dinner is usually served. You hear movement and sit upright in anticipation. It fades and you slouch at the sight of the Mentat. His expression is regretful.

“na-Baroness, please eat something - I do believe something has kept the na-Baron” he says. Nodding you stand slightly ashamed by Feyd’s rejection - another broken promise.

“I will eat in my quarters” you force a smile. He speaks into his earpiece taking the blade in his hands.

“The na-baron will love it” he says to be encouraging. Nodding you smile sure he will appreciate the craftsman ship that went into creating an accurate depiction of one of the galaxy’s most recognizable blades.

“Do you know if he is with his Harpies?” You ask.

“He isn’t” the Mentat responds without hesitation.

“The Baron?” You ask and he swallows regretfully.

“Among others, but you should not worry” the Mentat assures. Swallowing hard you pause for a moment before turning to Feyd-Rautha’s personal quarters. You cross the dining room and head to the unfamiliar black doors.

“Don’t!” The Mentat snaps as you stick your hand in the reader. To his surprise the doors open without alerting the safety measures reserved for intruders.

“I’ll only be a moment” you turn to him stepping into the dark room. The doors close behind you, lights illuminating slowly with each of your steps until the place is fully lit. The interior takes your breath away when you view all the knives, blades and swords hanging on the walls. A number of large portraits of Feyd-Rautha hang all around the large open space. Stepping back you look for his bedroom and stop an open door. Your steps take you there a large statement bed rests in the centre. It’s high with two marble steps to get up surrounding three quarters of it. Chains hang from the ceiling, with straps of all sorts attached to them. There’s what looks like a cage too, and a large X in the corner near it. Swallowing you try to make sense of it until a screen catches your eye. Stepping in you see a screen showing what looks to be your room, you see your bathroom and bedroom. Before you can confirm a red light flashes into your retinas, before you can blink the screen goes black. Stepping backwards with a shudder you place the blade onto the table with the attached note and exit. 

The Mentat watches you closely shocked by your ability to enter the na-Baron’s quarters. Feyd-Rautha’s security had been noticeably ironclad. He’d seen many try to break in or sneak in with no success and somehow you entered so effortlessly. Your heart races as you try to make sense of what you seen, all of it. 

“Can you have Leia, brought to my quarters?” You ask the Mentat. He speaks into his earpiece to have it done immediately.

Dinner is served and Leia consoles you listing dozens of reasons for Feyd’s absence you tell her about his bedroom, the chains, the empty cage the large X, but you omit the screen not completely sure what to make if it. Leia’s eyes light up her penchant for mischief proving useful as she explains in excruciating detail all of the possibilities. Just as your fear had begun to retreat Feyd’s tastes gave you more reasons. He was into administering pain, and having total control. He’d asked for your absolute submission but you had never considered it would lead to being suspended in the air for his pleasure, tied to wooden blocks, spanked, collared, degraded and hurt. 

After dinner you head into your bedroom casting a quick glance into the area the vantage point of a camera would be. You see a sconce in its place, a black ornamental sconce, there’s one in every corner of the room. Swallowing your about to to begin undressing when you hear the door open. Tensing you stay put afraid of another attack, stepping out of room you peer around to the living area and see Feyd. You sigh relieved.

“Apologies, the Baron kept me” he says before stopping in his tracks. His eyes drink you in, it’s like he’s been placed under a trance. You look him over a little confused until you remember he’s never seen you like this before. All done up for him. Feeling a little nervous under his intense gaze you nod.

“I had dinner already, I’m sorry I waited” you whisper as his mouth closes, his Adams apple bobs as he nods his bald head.

“You waited?” He asks his voice grittier and lower than ever before.

“For hours” you respond a little unnerved by the darkness of his eyes.

“I ought to drown the Baron in his tub” he snaps just over a whisper to himself radiating frustration. He couldn’t dream up a more beautiful woman, and you’d put in effort for him after he’d asked you to dinner. 

“I wanted to give you a gift before tomorrow’s celebrations” you confess.

Feyd blinks nodding, grappling with the gravity of your words. Days ago you were running from him. Now you were within reach and other peoples actions were jeopardizing his happiness.

“It’s in your room, I left it on the table I hope it’s no problem” you tell him but he hasn’t moved. His stillness is unnerving, like a snake before it strikes. His muscles contract before his hands unclench.

“You were in my rooms?” Feyd asks with suspicion.

“I hope that’s alright, I placed your gift on the table and left” you explains but he’s suspicious.

“Follow me” he says holding out his hand. You take it heading to the other side of tour living quarters. “Only you can open this door” he says putting your hand in the reader. The doors open and you’re in his quarters. You step into it extremely surprised. Your thoughts head back to the strange contraptions in his room as Feyd moves quickly having the screens put away before heading to the table. His hands hover over the box and he looks at you taking the scroll.

“Dearest na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen,

It is custom to give handmade gifts on birthdays. Please do not take offence, this took me ten days to craft with help from Leia and the Mentat. It’s the only thing I could think of that you may enjoy. 

Wishing you the happiest of birthdays and many more!

Y/N”

He pauses smiling at the strange kindness of the scroll, remembering several before. He’d often thought your gifts were juvenile and silly but he’d kept them anyhow. Bracing himself to put on a show of support he opens the box. His eyes deceive him. Narrowing his eyes he takes the blade from the box. He runs his hands over its sheath having seen it before. Looking back at you he turns to the blade knowing it well. Drawing it out he looks at the shiny metal and blood red centre. As legend would have it, the blade could never be turned against the bloodlines of your home planet. It could cut through anything but would dull against the flesh of its own. It had been made with blood from all of the families and brought to a religious order where it was forged in secrecy. There were none like it in the galaxy.

“It’s a replica” you speak as he admires the craftsmanship of your work. You’d been making this for him while he’d taken space, you’d been preparing this for him while others had been plotting on your life. You’d been making this for him in spite of your fear of him and reservations upon arriving. Putting the blade down he turns to you with dark eyes. It wasn’t the gift of a captive, it was a gift from a betrothed. Fighting for control Feyd kisses you once chastely before coming in for another, and another parting your lips. Your breathing changes as Feyd’s kiss becomes more dominant, the fingers on your chin slide down your throat and his strong hand secures around your neck kissing you with force, marking you, claiming you. His tongue sending sensations of pleasure and lust all throughout your body. Foreign sensations that exhilarate you, you feel your skin tingle as the heat rises between the two of you, your nipples hardening as the sensation in your stomach grows. Your knees grow weak and Feyd moves to his couch sitting with you across his lap without ever breaking the kiss. Your heart is racing, a strange want taking you over. You can feel him beneath you, growing harder and harder with every moment. Your senses and emotions come to a head all at once. You feel it happen, you see Feyd laying beside you, shirtless, with a hand around his manhood. His eyes stare at you while you look at him stroking himself lazily. Another flashes and he’s in the area you’re watching him when he’s sliced across the back after sending a smile up at you., while in the arena. Then there’s another you're standing in a brown palace facing a woman with blue eyes.

Feyd’s hold tightens around your neck and you pull back gasping for air. His eyes are black and his breath rugged. Your eyes hold his as he returns to the moment. Closing your eyes you wrap your arms around him terrified on the second vision. Your lips still tingle with the memory and taste of him. 

“Did I hurt you?” He asks with concern. You can still feel the ghost of his touch on your neck.

“No” you whisper fighting for breath as Feyd places his face against yours, your noses and lashes touch against each other. Feyd allows himself to be intoxicated by you. The feeling was singular, he’d never been one for kissing but it was all he could do without causing you dishonour before the wedding ceremony. You wrap your arms around his neck and his muscular arms hold you close. 

“Tomorrow during your fight, don’t look up to me - just focus” you whisper.

“I will do as I please, no one will best me. In the arena I’m king” he speaks confidently. You. Go to withdraw but Feyd’s hands secure at your hips. His eyes challenge you.

“Do you trust me Feyd?” You ask and he takes a breath never breaking the eye contact.

“I don’t know … should I trust someone as perfect as you?” He asks reaching down to the hem of your dress and tearing the fabric up to your thighs. Your heart races with anticipation.

“Yes” you nod breathlessly in anticipation for his next move.

“May I request another present?”

“If you promise to heed my warning” you nod as he palms the flesh of your thigh. Your eyes close.

“May I taste you on my fingers and with my tongue?” Feyd asks.

“Taste me?” You ask, your uncertainty only thrills him more.

“It would make you feel good, I’d use my fingers to give you pleasure and kiss your centre” his words are illicit. Thinking back to his bedroom you hesitate thinking for the both of you.

“I don’t think we should Feyd, I don’t think it would stop there and you need to be focused tomorrow” you respond causing a guttural groan. Your heart aches for denying him.

“Goodnight” he says standing and putting you back on the ground. He storms to his bedroom. Confused and conflicted you head to the cleansing chambers feeling the sting of rejection. The automatic system does as it should, you cover your body conscious of the sconces and walk into the living room feeling restless. Seeing the separation of his skin as it was sliced is haunting. Such a gash would take a long recovery and impair his ability yo protect you physically, it would make him vulnerable. Dressed in a night set you pad over to the joining doors and place your hand in. It opens and you walk to Feyd’s bedroom. Knocking at the door his eyes widen in surprise at the sight of you.

“Could we lay beside each other instead?” You ask trying to bridge the distance.

“We can” he says leading you back to your bedroom. You watch as he knowingly heads to the side of the bed you don’t sleep on. Your suspicions are confirmed, he has been watching you. It’s a strange thrill. He pulls back the covers and you do the same before lying down and Feyd-Rautha draws you into him. He’s all muscle and all man. His shirtless upper half is impressive and warm. You run your fingers over his sides enjoying the feel of his smooth skin.

“Thank you for my gift” he says placing one hand over your breasts and cupping it as you lay with your back to him.

“You’re welcome” you respond and he places a kiss on your cheek.

“Will you give yourself to me after the wedding?” He asks and you smile at his one track mind.

“Yes but you intimidate me Feyd” you confess. “I’ve never been with a man and I’m not sure life has prepared me for a man with your tastes” you confess amusing him. Moving quickly he positions himself over you and between your legs on his knees. He places his hand over your lady parts he presses a thumb against your entrance over your clothes and the sensation is like nothing you’ve ever felt before. Leaning down he kisses your lips pressing slow circles against you. 

“There” he says withdrawing his full lips from yours. “It would feel better than that” he explains going back onto his knees. “I would use your breasts to bring you over the edge too” he says touching your chest, Feyd never breaks eye contact as he kneads your breast over the fabric. Your nipples appear and he pinches one before kissing you gently. You miss the feel of his had at your centre and squirm under him as he deepens the kiss. You want him to show you everything he knows. “I’ll do my best not to hurt you” he whispers breaking the kiss and laying on his back. The dim light over the bed allows the two of you to see each other well. He slides his pants down and removes his cock. A large appendage that looks far more alive than those in the library books. It fills his hand and has a weight to it. Its tip is shaped reminiscent of a cherry and beautiful. It leaks clear liquid and he strokes it slowly without any reservations.

You feel swelling at your centre, and a heat there, the pull to Feyd is almost magnetic, it’s strong and undeniable. His eyes look to yours as he strokes himself lazily, more vivid than in your vision.

“Not before a fight” you whisper knowing the custom but he’s too far gone. With his free hand he pulls you into a kiss imagining its your wetness riding his cock with a vice grip. Your body completely naked under his your soft lips on his like they are now. His mouth all over you claiming you as he fucks you hard. He wanted to make you scream and moan for him and only him. He needed to hear those sounds play like a chorus over and over. He needed you feral for him, he needed you on your knees with your mouth open whenever he entered a room. He needed you waiting naked in his bed with your legs open. He needed your obedience, trust and devotion. You to be open to his toys and predilections. He needs all yeses, for all of his desires. He needs you to take control too, make your demands known and be unrelenting until he satisfies them. He needs to see his pleasure all over you and wearing it proudly.

Seizing the image of you covered in his cum sends him over the edge. You watch as his eyes shut and Feyd biceps flex, his body goes rigid and thick streams of cum sprout from him. His chest heaves his strong pectoral muscles fully flexed as is his neck. He looks vulnerable as he fights for air. He’s beautiful, something primal tells you that this is all your doing. That this is the effect you have on him. Wanting to honour it and him you step out of the bed with shaky legs you take a washcloth and run it under a warm tap. You feel his eyes on you as you return stepping into the bed you pull the drapes obscuring the view of the sconces.  Sitting beside him you place the cloth over the mess he’s made and begin to clean him off. He watches you without words still hard as you clean his manhood, stomach and hands. When you're finished you toss the cloth in the incinerator and wash your hands before returning to Feyd.

His eyes drink you in, his chest burning with love for you and the way you just took care of him. Nobody had ever been so gentle with him. Tucking himself away he reaches for you prepared to give you the world. There was no better gift, there never would be the you in his bed in his arms, no better gift then the wonder in your eyes as he pleasured himself. Exhausted and overwhelmed Feyd slips into sleep with his head on your bosom. Running your hands down his muscular back you begin a few Bene Gesserit mantras of protection over him, needing now more than ever before for him to be protected as your heart races because one of your visions had come to pass.

PART IV

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Thanks for reading 🩶 Don't forget to let me know what you think of this chapter, with a like comment and reblog.

I don't think Margot Fenring survives survived her attempted seduction of Feyd. Can they manage waiting until marriage? Are there more assignation attempts? Does the vision come to pass?

hmm....

TAGS:

@elf-punk @dvmb4ssbiatch @thegabbyh @fanfiction-addict22 @meetmeatyourworst @jojoclown69 @lillypink @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @avidreader73 @emeraldsgirl33 @strawberryfieldsforevermore @rose-are-royal @delusionsofnostalgia @szapizzapanda @palomavz @mcswan02 @slutforsmut4ever @emeraldsgirl @jackiekae @sarahhelpimsinking @maat-the-prescriptive

[lavenderfilledcoffin]

rest

verb

cease work or movement in order to relax, refresh oneself, or recover strength.

•*¨*•.¸¸♪✧•*¨*•.¸¸

It had already been a long run.

It had been approximately forty three hours since you had come down to the expedition site.

That's when you found out you were 'immortal'.

Your first death was brutal and painful.

You'd been killed by what Sebastian calls 'pandemonium'.

"Caught you off guard?" He spoke, pulling the document away from your view.

You shook your head, letting the memory be temporarily forgotten, focusing on the present.

You were nearing Sebastian's shop. You really needed a nap...

With your unwanted experience of the dangers down here, you easily passed by the doors.

Well. Somewhat easily.

Those damn turrets, it’s unfair how they have aimbot…

One of the bullets just narrowly avoided hitting your head, horrifying…

You stared at where the bullet landed.

After what felt like four minutes, you looked back up, deciding that you had a grudge against bullets now.

You quickly ran past the turret’s line of sight, and shut the power off, moving on to the next door.

It felt like your limbs had been set ablaze from the overexertion of your muscles, but after a nap, you’re sure it would go away. Hopefully.

The familiar noise of the vent cover falling onto the floor made you giddy. Finally.

“Hey, friend. Over here.” The sound of Sebastian’s voice nearly made you cry tears of joy. You don’t think you’ve ever felt more happier.

You kneeled down, making your way through the vent, and entered his shop.

“It’s good to see you again!” Sebastian made a small waving motion with his third hand, letting it fall to his side afterwards.

“…You look like shit.” He had to stifle a laugh by biting his lip harshly. “Thanks…”

You sighed, rubbing your right eye.

You walked towards the desk nearest to him, gently dumping out the contents of your bag so as not to smash any glass vials that contained DNA. It was a generous haul, you must say, at least worth over a thousand.

“What’s all this for? Wanna buy my file?” You shook your head at his words.

“I want to rest, please.”

“Listen. This isn’t a charity, so—“

“Seb. Please?” Sebastian stared at you. Sure, he was extremely fond of you, but that doesn’t mean he has to treat you like you were royalty.

That data was very tempting, though.

“Fine. Go ahead.” He crossed his arms, pointing to the corner.

“What is this, timeout?”

“Go in the damn corner and sleep before I change my mind.”

You turned your back to him, rolling your eyes before going to where he pointed.

There was a plushie of… someone? You grabbed it from behind the locker and held it close.

You curled up beside the plush and placed your cheek onto its head, shutting your eyes.

The position you were in wasn’t exactly comfortable, but it worked.

You fell asleep shortly after.

Sebastian watched you with curious eyes.

He felt creepy for watching you sleep, but he couldn’t help it.

You looked so peaceful.

He moved from his corner to yours, grabbing a few plush blankets he stole from a worker’s locker.

Trying not to wake you, Sebastian lifted you up, placed a blanket beneath you, and another over you.

You looked so cozy, he couldn’t help but smile at the sight.

He went back to his corner, holding his hand in his other like usual.

Sebastian didn’t bother you, he didn’t know much about immortality, but he knew it was definitely exhausting having to die over and over again.

How did that work? He didn’t even know.

His eyes fell back onto your sleeping form. Something inside of him tingled as he saw a small smile on your sleeping face.

How cute.

[pomefioredove]

*does a little dance*

vil prompts you say? Can i get your take on Vil being confronted by Yuu's real and imminent return home? And it's their only chance too (ie. the portal can only be opened with a meteor traveling overhead and surprise surprise its passing NOW they have three days max)

*does a little jig, going away*

you guys love torturing this man omg. so much angst. I'm about to pour all my abandonment issues into him ikyk

summary: yuu leaving type of post: short fic characters: vil additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu, angsty, post-book 7 author's note: my partner has been ignoring me for the past few days (I can't figure out why) so vil is about to experience pain, as he should

There are only six visible letters in lonely, and a thousand more hiding behind them.

The word carries such a weight with it, its meaning and its leaden implications, crushing the lungs of all who dare to shoulder it. It's a sore, tender sort of hurt, one that constricts the chest and numbs the limbs. Paralyzing, strangulating.

They say beauty is pain, but Vil has never felt more hideous in his life.

He had known; of course he had known. There was always a possibility you'd get your chance to return to your home, a world alien to him, and never come back. He'd been preparing himself for that reality from the moment he met you.

It didn't make it hurt any less.

Love is blind, but it's ignorant, too. Vil had pushed that thought to the back of his mind, covering it up with an if rather than a when, like throwing a veil over a tombstone. He had convinced himself that the chances of you leaving were slim, that when the time came, years from then, he'd be ready.

He wasn't counting on a few months.

"It works for about three days," you explain, a giddy smile on your face. He forces himself to share the expression. "The spell is so powerful, it can only be cast under specific circumstances... if I miss this, who knows when my next chance will be?"

Vil is an actor, yes, but this is different. This isn't something he's reading off a page to a room full of production assistants and actors. This is you and him, alone, tangled in an uncertain future with no ending in 12-point Courier.

His voice cracks. "That's wonderful,"

Sevens, is he selfish.

A part of him wants to slap you across the face and call you an idiot for even thinking about leaving him here, let alone being excited about it, but he can't even move his feet from where he's standing.

He should be celebrating with you.

He should be happy that you get to escape this terrible place. You get to go home, where you're accepted as you are, and loved, and where you belong...

But you belong with him. He accepts you. He loves you. Why do you need anyone else? What can they offer than he can't?

It's an egotistical fantasy Vil holds in the back of his mind for the rest of the day, one where you wake up and realize that your place is here, by his side, and not a world away from him.

He tries to convince himself it's not the end yet. Perhaps the spell will fail. Perhaps Crowley will change his mind. Perhaps someone else will overblot and throw the school into chaos. Each thought is more indulgent than the last, but without them, he might have lost his mind before noon.

What is he supposed to do?

Smile and wave while the only person who has ever understood and loved him unconditionally leaves him forever? Make a fool of himself pretending to be happy for you?

Every second without the certainty of seeing you the next day feels like an eternity.

It's wrong. He knows that. He can't keep you chained to the foot of his throne like a pet. You want to go, don't you? That's what you've wanted all along.

Once again, Vil only comes in second.

[aseaofyoongi]

just desserts | jjk

jeon jungkook x reader (f)

genre: one night stand; neighbors; set in the summer cause i miss it dearly.

rating: mature audiences only (strictly 18+)

summary: jungkook is your next door neighbor who you have only crossed a few words with. however one hot summer day theres a city wide blackout and strangely enough, he shows up at your door w brownies. . and other delights.

warnings: crush culture; mentions of lack of confidence; masturbation (f.); foul language; naughty thoughts; penetrative sex; unprotected sex (wrap it up); dry humping; oral (m. receiving); praise; sub-ish jk!; jk has a huge dick;?brief mention of seokjin and joon; oc is very hørny for jk basically; those fucking gifs of jk w his long hair and glasses inspired this so thank you jeon jungkook; edited but excuse any mistakes please.

word count: 6,3 thousand words

posted: monday - january 30, 2023

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A sixth floor walk up in the middle of the scorching month of July was certainly not fitting on your basis of an ideal home. But after your extensive apartment search always ended with high-priced, rodent infested corners New Yorkers often mistook for apartments, you were happy to shake on the deal for this studio apartment with Seokjin without having to break your piggy bank or burn a staggering hole in your pocket.

“When is the elevator going to be fixed, Seokjin,” you fanned yourself as beads of sweat adorned your white tank top.

“That’ll have to be when I finally win the lotto,” he guffawed from behind the plexiglass square standing between you and his office.

“Very funny,” you mumbled, beginning your journey up the stairs. He didn’t hear you though, instead his focus remained on whichever drama he played on the television.

Kim Seokjin, was the name of a superstar—or so he says. He claims to have attended the Juilliard School for about two years, with dreams of becoming the newest face of Hollywood and all of their high-priced productions. When Seokjin’s dad fell ill, he couldn’t keep up with the demands of keeping so many residence buildings open, he had to close more than half his buildings and just like that, financial strains created a hurdle the size of Mt. Everest in the life of Seokjin. He was left without his dreams, without his father and taking care of a building where the rent was too cheap to gain a profit, making just enough to cover the mortgage.

Normally, you weren’t so exposed to details of your landlord’s lives, but Seokjin was different. He was also your friend.

“I put water bottles around the halfway mark. The last thing I need is a lawsuit over a dead body,” he yelled up as you barely made it to floor two.

“How considerate. I’ll try not to die while you’re on the clock,” it was too hot to continue your journey up. . too hot to form coherent sentences. You just wanted to make it to your apartment and sit in front of the fan for the rest of the day.

“That’s all I’m saying,” you heard.

Once your foot met the landing on the third floor, your eyes desperately scanned for the promise of beverages Seokjin had informed you of, but the small table set-up on the other end of the hallway was completely empty. Leaving behind only the particles of dust and pure oxygen to inhale. Fuck—you actually felt like you were going to pass out. Just three more floors.

You wanted to yell down a snarky remark towards Seokjin but you figured that required too much energy you simply did not have.

Moving to New York was a decision you had made impulsively after feeling like you had overstayed your time in your parents house post-high school. You averted college at all costs because it just wasn’t for you. Lectures seemed like a bore and professors were individuals being paid to legally torture their students so you joyfully averted that nightmare all together. Your immediate option was to get a job, but after many places began getting closed down back home, you found yourself job hopping as a means for survival.

It was not convenient, so you boarded a train to the city that never sleeps in hopes of never looking back. . And you haven’t since setting foot here eleven months ago.

“Just one more floor,” you uttered to no one in particular but the patchy silver handrail and the chipped white walls.

Your apartment was now in your line of vision and the only thing standing between you and the black steel door were just ten sets of stairs. Walking into the building your body was glistening with a thin layer of sweat but now you were drenched, your top was sticking to your skin and the thick beads of dampness rolled down your body like the condensation on soft drinks from fast food places.

Heaving with exhaustion you took a seat on the very last step of the sixth floor, finally you made it but you just needed a minute, just a single minute to catch your breath. The fucking heat was unbearable; intolerable; irregular, you could have sworn the sun inched closer and closer to planet earth as the day progressed.

Initially, you hadn’t heard as much as the squeaky hinges on the door frame, you were too divulged in your suffering from the days heat. Not to mention, your eyes were closed and you were too focused in a state of cooling down before hiding behind the thin walls of your apartment.

“Are you ok?” His voice became trapped in the muggy air surrounding the two of you. The bass in his tone never ceased to make your knees turn to jello, to make your toes curl and to make the hairs on the back of your neck stand straight.

Was the heat not enough suffering for one day?

“Oh,” you cleared your throat, “I’m fine. It’s just the heat.”

“Yeah, it definitely feels like we were shipped straight to hell today.”

“I don’t know, I think hell might be cooler than this,” he chuckled lightly—you’re foolish stammer and poor excuse of words enlightened him. The sun was still beaming brightly but you swore you saw stars after he had serenaded you so sweetly with the sound of his infectious laugh.

“I think you might be right,” he locked his door and walked past you on the stairs, “have a good day neighbor.”

“You too, Jungkook,” you called after him as he began his way down the unfortunate set of stairs.

Sometimes, you felt as if you’d been blessed as the main lead in the plot of a cheesy rom com, but after today the idea was really cemented in your head. Ok, look. . Jungkook was your hot neighbor, like very hot, unearthly hot, like he was handcrafted by God himself, kind of hot. Furthermore, only you and him resided on the sixth floor, living in a pair of tiny apartments right beside one another. Although that was all you had gathered so far, besides his name, it was enough to fill your head with delusions and daydreams of the man your eyes loved to gawk at every chance you got.

You read him very well, like the everlasting pages of your favorite novel. His silky hair was long and inched over the nape of his neck, he wore specs that sat perfectly on the bridge of his nose accentuating his big doe eyes. Though his features seemed soft his aura was borderline the complete opposite—a silver hooped piercing sat in the right side of his rosette lips while tattoos peeked right out of the sleeves of the white button up he usually wore.

You closed the door to your apartment, removed your shoes and hung your keys on the flathead thumbtack pierced into the wall by the front door.

The apartment felt even more scorching than the bustling sidewalks. After opening all three of the windows you were bestowed to have between your room and the living room, you turned on your fan and walked into the bathroom to draw a much needed cool bath. Stripping off your sweaty clothes, you stepped into the tub. For a minute, you were immersed in the utter silence floating around you—all your ears detected was the distanced whirring fan all the way from your room.

Behind the back of your eyelids, the world was dark and your thoughts brought you back to your encounters with Jungkook on the stairs just moments ago. Your interactions with the boy were usually extended to a whispered, ‘hi’ or ‘hello,’ never as prolonged as it played out today.

In your thoughts, Jungkook strolled by day and night, as you embraced every look, every utterance, every single time he brushed his hair back using his slender fingers. He was the cultivation of your desires and the reason why your heart strummed against your chest a bit harder the days you saw him leaving around 12PM every afternoon.

It baffled you how he always managed to look fucking good every single day—even during the hottest days of the summer, while you looked like vile beast he managed to look so perfect.

. . So fucking perfect.

The faint tingles traveling through your body, caused your skin to form goosebumps. The pulsation of your clit is what really began driving you to clouded thoughts to imagine his hands against you. You imagined the pads of his fingers to be soft mimicking a delicate velvet fabric and while you crumbled under his touch, he would murmur the filthiest of words against your ear.

Those ministrations could be enough to have you coming hard—he wouldn’t even have to fuck you. Shit, even looking at him was enough.

Being away from all of the toys you safely stored in your nightstand, you grabbed the detachable shower head and adjusted the water pressure, prepped your feet up on the rim of the tub aiming it in between your legs in an inevitable attack against your clit.

Your head lulled back in sure bliss as you fed your carnal desires, the only thing missing was him.

“Fuck—” How you longed for him to have you in this position, so sensitive to his sinful doings; so aroused for him. It was like a hunger your fingers, toys and this stupid shower head could not satisfy.

The vibration of his name dripped from your lips like a chant and you felt that bubbling fervor form in the pit of your stomach. Spurts of pleasure rushed out of you so intensely you were overwhelmed by the explosions of fireworks as soon as your orgasm erupted.

When your breath had settled and you finally felt like you could stand, you opted for a quick shower, rushing to get into your pajamas and plopped down on your bed right in-front of the fan for a nap, having your dreams quickly invaded by him.

Work sucked on Monday afternoons.

All you ever did was stare out of the ticket booth at the movie theater as the few customers who despised the weekend rush came in. Besides, there was rarely anything to occupy your mind with on slow nights like this. You had already sweeped and your co-worker, Namjoon was surveying the screening rooms for any shenanigans the younger crowds could possibly be rattling up.

You always left that up to him—he was the more intimidating one between the two of you anyway.

“Room 5 is a wreck,” Namjoon announced his entrance into the lobby, “I’m gonna go clean up.”

“Walkie me if you need help,” you tapped the walkie clipped onto your belt buckle and he nodded, grabbing the broom and a few rags.

Your stomach grew irritated as you continued golfing down copious amounts of candies but the truth was you were starving and had no time to eat breakfast this morning; let alone make something to bring to work to eat for lunch.

Namjoon was a film major. He was the spitting image of a cliche by the way—his parents wanted him to become a doctor but that wasn’t his passion so he ran away to the city and began trotting up the golden stairs to his dream. You wished you had even an ounce of his determination, he knew exactly where he wanted to go and how to get there while you still stood at the base of the mountain of your life. . unbeknownst on how to tackle it or which way it was to begin your way up to the summit.

There was nothing you had a passion for and quite frankly sometimes you were utterly clueless as to what your purpose was in life.

Had no dreams and no goals to strive towards; nothing extraordinary you expected to blossom in your future. There was nothing, nothing and more nothingness occupying the hours of your days.

“My child,” Seokjin walked in through the glass door, he looked like he'd been chilling in an oven.

“Seokjin,” you narrowed your eyes in his direction, “what are you doing here? I thought you never left the air conditioner in your office plus don’t you hate the movie theater?”

“You’re absolutely correct. The dimmed lighting here is horrid and I deserve better than that. .”

“Of course, you do.”

“But,” he leaned over the counter, “I saw your little neighbor boyfriend leaving the building today and I was fucking gagged.”

“Trust me, Seokjin. I know how good he fucking looks in that white button up. I’ve lived it.”

“No,” he squealed, “He had a black short sleeve shirt today and—”

“Spit it out, bitch.”

“He has a full fucking sleeve,” he squealed.

“No. Fucking. Way.” The pauses in between your words were not placed for dramatic effect—you were in fact attempting to paint a detailed mental image of that sinful man.

How unfair is it that he gets to walk around us mortals with our average looks while he exudes such grand flawlessness.

“Looks like someone owes me fifty bucks.”

The bet. . you had completely forgotten about that.

“I'll pass it over on Friday once I get paid.”

“I told you,” he began, “once a man gets one tattoo they’re usually covered in them.”

“Yea, but he has this soft look to him, you know?” you shrugged, “I thought he might have had a few. But a whole sleeve?”

“Jungkook is a walking juxtaposition.”

“I suppose he is.”

Seokjin sat on the counter emptying a handful of sweets into his palm, “what are you doing eating all of this candy anyway?”

“Uh,” your thoughts were still filtered towards Jungkook. You wanted to see him so bad, “I’m starving and just waiting on Namjoon to finish cleaning room five so I can go on my lunch break.”

“Namjoon as in the buff hottie with the deep voice?”

“I guess.”

“Room five?” You nodded.

“I’ll take one ticket for whatever the fuck you guys are showing right now.”

“Didn’t you say you hated it here?” You printed a ticket to. . you looked down, to the latest minion movie and ripped off the top half, “you complained about the lights or something.”

“Can you just give me a ticket? I need it to execute my master plan,” he rushed your actions in cutting the ticket you had printed, “besides you owe me for coming all the way down here with vital intel about your secret crush.”

“I owe you nothing. I’ll be paying half a hundred for that by the end of the week, remember?”

“Consider this,” he snatched the ticket from your grasp, holding it beside his toothy grin, “your down payment.”

Before you could form a further argument, Seokjin vanished from in front of you and sprinted down the main hallway to screening room five.

The best thing about your job were the designated days off you had throughout the week. Tuesdays and Fridays were yours to enjoy and while today was Tuesday your schedule was still jam packed with an abundance of errands to complete come the early morning.

You had paid your utility bills, finished your laundry, cleaned your apartment and even set out poultry to defrost by the time you made it back home. It had been a very productive day.

Your last stop was the grocery store.

Oftentimes, you’d wander aimlessly, losing yourself in each aisle wondering about how the better half lives, how much better life would be if you didn’t have to keep incessant reminders of your weekly budgets stamped to the back of your head.

How much easier life would be if money wasn’t such a big determinant in the choices we were forced to make in our day to day lives.

Oh, how much easier life would be.

You only grabbed the essentials for the next couple of weeks including—rice, greens, fruits, water, milk, meat, and a variation of breakfast options.

Temptation roamed in the air as you headed out of the cereal aisle you were face to face with a bakery section where an unhealthy amount of baked goods were sprawled out—practically blaring out your name. All of the delicious delights made your mouth water and you couldn’t help but gravitate deeper and deeper, guided by the aroma of the sweet desserts.

“Neighbor?” It was his earthy voice, the same one you’d only heard vibrate among the walls of the tiny hallway of the sixth floor the two of you shared.

“Jungkook?” You looked up from the brownies and your eyes met his figure, in the same clothes you usually saw him leave his apartment. It was his work uniform, “You work here?”

“Is that judgment in your tone I hear?”

“N-no,” You stammered. Was he fucking with you? He had to be fucking with you. “Of course not. I would never judge—”

“I was just playing, neighbor.” Phew.

“I always come here. How come I haven’t seen you before?”

“I’m usually baking in the back. I was just coming out to set these down,” he held up the dozen cupcakes sitting inside the boxed packaging.

“You bake?” Hopefully, you sounded more stunned than judgemental because you were i. fact stunned.

“I’m an aspiring pastry chef. I go to culinary school,” Jungkook, your beautiful, doe eyed, tattooed, pierced neighbor was also a baker. Ok.

For some reason that made him so much more attractive.

“I would not have been able to guess that even if I tried,” You mentally kicked yourself at the lack of filter in your words. You weren’t trying to offend him and hopefully he does not take it as such.

He chuckled—that’s a good sign, “People tend to simulate that very reaction but you can certainly knock on my door if you’re ever craving something sweet. I promise they are amazing.”

Craving something sweet?

Your thoughts traveled back to the enticing thoughts you possessed a few days ago while you took a bath, the vivid image of the water pressure against your cunt and the pure desire to have him near made you dizzy. And now he was near, just a couple of feet away.

A wave of warmth traveled through your extremities, the pulse on your clit turned to an overbearing throb, you wanted to rub your thighs and alleviate the feeling. But you remembered where you were, in the middle of the grocery store and Jungkook still stood right before you. Nevertheless, you tried to ignore the wetness pooling between your legs; dampening your panties.

“I practically poured out all of the basic details of my boring life. I think you owe me at least something about you.”

“There’s not much to tell,” you shrugged, “but I work at the movie theater down the street if that piques your interest at all.”

“It does. I love movies.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you there before.”

“Well, if I’m honest I haven’t gone in a long time but that’s only because work and school keep me pretty busy.”

The lust streaming through your body doubled to make your heart beat with fondness and you grew endeared in the way Jungkook’s eyes lit up when he talked about his aspirations to become a baker.

“You’ll have a free ticket waiting for you whenever your schedule clears up.”

“Promise you’ll join me when I decide to go.” His words carved themselves into your brain like a permanent tattoo, just as those decorating his arm. The fluttering feeling in your abdomen heightened as a result of the dithers, without being aware of it, that is the effect Jungkook had on you.

“As long as it’s on a Tuesday or Friday.”

“Deal.”

“I’ll see you around, Jungkook.”

“See you, neighbor.”

Thursday was the worst day of the week so far.

Technically you were supposed to be at work, it was already 4:00PM, but instead you were still home. Even just sitting down in the muggy atmosphere of your in the miniscule space, you were doused, staining your clothes with sweat.

You were not willingly suffering at the lack of mercy the scorching weather subjected the city and everyone in it to, unfortunately the power had gone out. And while usually you had the luxury of a fan to cool down, today you had nothing.

Your windows and front door were left wide open in an attempt to cool down the place and still you felt as if you were sitting inside a fucking oven set to hightest temperature. There was no use.

“Neighbor.” Jungkook called out lightly knocking on the opened door.

Jungkook? Not Jungkook again when you looked like an absolute wreck.

“Hey Jungkook,” he stood at the door frame, a wide grin painted on his lips—he held a to-go box in his hands, “you can come in.”

“Do you want me to shut the door?”

“Sure,” you gave in, it’s not like it was actually doing anything. Besides, the last thing you needed was one of the crazy residents from the lower floors coming to bug you.

Jungkook took a seat next to you on the couch, he wore a sleeveless top exposing all of the ink embellishing his skin, every line, every curve, every word was so intricate and seemed so unique to him.

“I didn’t know you had these many tattoos,” a small fib was a price to pay to not seem like a weirdo, “did any of them hurt?”

“Some did,” he pointed at his tricep, “mainly these and a few others but I have a high pain tolerance.”

“Well, they’re beautiful,” you scanned his arm some more. It was truly like a mural embodying the beauty of art, “were you a singer?” you signaled at the microphone sitting on his forearm.

“I guess you could say that,” he adjusted himself on the couch, his nylon shorts rode up his thighs and you just hoped he wouldn’t notice the way your eyes glanced down constantly. Jungkook didn’t notice though, he was too busy averting eye contact and scratching the back of his head, “My highschool friends and I used to make music. We recorded a mixtape.”

“I need a link to this mixtape. . like now,” You laughed hysterically.

“Oh no, you don’t.”

“Ok, ok,” Again, another surprise from the man you thought you had all figured out—every single day he surprised you more and more, “were you like a vocalist or a rapper?”

“Vocals mostly. I did try rapping once though but I sucked so badly they scratched it off the track.”

“At least they were honest and didn't let you crash and burn in public.”

“You should’ve seen me though. I thought I was the shit.”

Jungkooks giggles were everlasting as he recounted the many times their parents grew exhausted of kicking them out of their garages for their disturbances in the making of their great musical legacy.. He filled the room with vibrance. The longer you sat in the presence of Jungkook the more you were exposed to the colors that made Jungkook, Jungkook. Of course, you were intrigued by the phosphorescent hues allowing them to inch you closer in his direction. Wanting him to spare no details in the adventure of his life.

“What’s that?” you pointed at the packaging box beside him on the arm rest.

“Brownies,” he handed you the box, “I saw you eyeing them when you were at the bakery but you didn’t buy any. So, I figured I would bring you some.”

In your mind, this was his way of saying he was thinking about you—that’s what you chose to believe anyway.

“You didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to. Besides, I wanna see what you think of my baking.” Jungkook’s eyes were bigger than usual behind his specs, he fidgeted with the hem of his shorts.

If only he knew, the actual taste of the brownies would hold no significance in your criticism. You would love them anyway simply because they came from him.

“How about we have one together?”

“Yeah?”

You nodded, “let’s go to my room. There’s two windows in there and I’m literally about to pass out from heat stroke out here.”

The two of you sat by each one of the windows, the box of his remaining six hand crafted sweet delicacies sat between the two of you on the nightstand.

“You ready?”

“Yes.”

“1, 2,” the two of you held the chocolaty dessert up to your mouth, “3.”

Even after just one bite your taste buds were enamored.

“What do you think?”

“They’re amazing, Jungkook. You’re an amazing baker.”

“You can call me Kookie, you know.”

You nearly choked after taking another bite, hurdling into a coughing spiral, “that’s so fitting. Kookie the pastry chef.”

“Forget I said it,” he shook his head, laughing.

“Wait, no,” you loved the soft tint of pink dusting his cheeks, “that could be the name of your future shop.”

“Kookie’s Cookies.”

“Kookie’s Cookies,” you confirmed, “and I wanna be credited for the idea too.”

“Better yet, you’ll be my business partner.”

“That’s not a good idea. I’ll eat everything and you’ll just end up bankrupt,” your eyes were set on the congested sidewalks outside your window—everyone was out likely catching a break from their scorching apartments but here you were melting away all at the expense of being in Jungkook’s company just for a bit longer.

“I wouldn’t mind as long as you’re with me.”

Those eight words sent your mind into a spiral, head first into the rabbit hole of your fantasies. You couldn’t really make out if he truly meant what you thought he meant.

“Jungkook. .”

“I mean it.”

“Please don’t make me believe there could actually be something here,” Your voice was low and your thoughts were a scribbled mess. There was not a single coherency in your being at that point in time.

“I’m not lying,” your name tasted saccharine on his tinted lips—much like the brownie he had baked for you, “I like you.”

“Jungkook. .” was all you could muster.

“I’ve liked you from the moment you moved into the building.”

A single strike of thunder traveled down your spinal cord, you felt paralyzed in that moment and his sweet sweet words just continued looping inside the walls of your skull.

You were malfunctioning; shocked.

It’s astonishing how oblivious and just plain stupid human nature can make a person. For the past months, you had concealed the schoolgirl crush you developed on Jungkook and convinced yourself that there was absolutely no way in hell he could like you back.

Your insecurities had deceived you and now you sit here after so long with a thumping beat in your heart, giddy with excitement and lowkey wanting to slap yourself for not having noticed earlier.

“You like me?”

Obviously, he just fucking said that. He nodded.

“I like you, too.” You finally said out loud.

The temperature continued to rise in the small bedroom and between the two of you the heat became unbearable. With each passing second, you could feel the streamline trickles of your sweat cascading down your temples; your entire body matter of fact.

If eyes were the windows to the soul then Jungkook’s chocolate gaze was compelling.

And they were calling out for you so loudly.

“What happens now?” He pushed his glasses up to the bridge of his nose.

“Can I kiss you, Jungkook?”

You caught on to Jungkook’s mannerisms and body language rather quickly within the past hour. For example, he was pretty straight forward with his words yet whenever he spoke his fingers fidgeted with a random object as a distraction, this time it was the black beaded bracelet sitting on his wrist.

He nodded yet again.

Your heaven resided in the comfort of Jungkook’s thighs. You realized it the moment you straddled him. The rich smell of sandalwood was a scent unique to him, so earthy and rich. It was the only thing you ever wanted to smell for the remainder of your time on earth.

After raking your hands through his soft hair you tugged at it a bit, guiding his face up towards you.

“If you want anything from me. You’re gonna have to use your words, Jungkook.”

“You know what I want,” his eyes traced the corners of your lips down to the intricate details, “just kiss me, please.”

There are an abundance of perfect scenarios in life. For one there was the idyllic scene of snowfall on Christmas day; the legendary creamy combination of cookies and cream; then, there was the way your lips danced against Jungkooks, composing a choreography so intricate and beautiful only the two of you could execute it.

You were in a haze, entirely stupefied and addicted to his soft and warm lips. Then, his hands snaked around your waist as he guided you back and forth on his lap. His covered erection rubbed against your clothed slit in a pace so slow, it was agonizing yet delectable. Jungkook pulled away, continuing to lead your movements against him. Your mouth remained agape and you couldn’t help the sounds escaping your lips.

You wanted to pinch yourself, you’d only ever dreamt of this. Was this all a fabrication of your dreams? You hope it wasn’t, it felt so good.

“God, I’ve always wanted to have you like this.” His voice was husk and he spoke in between grunts.

If today was dictated as your last day on earth, you’d die being the happiest woman.

His warm breath fanned your sweaty neck. A tickle ran down your back but you focused on the knot forming at your abdomen.

“I’m so close.”

“Let go for me.”

His commands were sweet like candy and the utters of his guidance to have you crumble on his lap were all you needed to send you over the edge.

“You were so good for me, darling.”

“Call me that forever.” Your knees were sore, your voice was hoarse and you were sweltered from head to toe but you craved more, you grew wetter just imagining what else could arise from this encounter.

“Darling?” You nodded. “Jungkook?” He hummed lightly, opening his eyes and lifting his head from where it rested on the wall.

“Are you tired?”

“I just had a long day yesterday.”

“Can I help you unwind?” your lower lip now tucked under your teeth, “can I touch you?”

“Please.”

Your hands tucked under the hemline of his shorts and underwear. The way you illustrated Jungkook in your dreams was close to what you would imagine a modern Greek God to look like and you quickly realized that was the case when his shirt lifted revealing that he should be the one on display in museums instead of those silly little statues.

Your chin rested on his shoulder, while your hand moved up and down the length of his cock. You couldn’t see it, not yet. But he felt so big in your palm.

The hushed moans and curses leaving him fueled you to maintain at the same pace. Your lips found themselves leaving wet kisses on his already dampened neck.

“Please—please don’t stop,” He was a stuttering mess, his hand was gripping the window still so tightly his knuckles turned white. Hypnotized by arousal Jungkook began meeting your movements, enraptured by his desire for release.

“You’re not being a very good boy, Jungkook,” you whispered in his ear, “besides I thought you were tired.”

“I’ll—I’ll be so good I promise,” he continued fucking himself into your hand.

Jungkook whined as soon as you released his cock from your grip. Instead you tucked off the pesky fabrics covering his lower half, with his help of course, your theories were proven to be correct. Jungkook, your hot neighbor with piercings and tattoos also had a pussy destroyer in between his legs because of course he did.

“There’s only two rules baby.”

“What are the rules?”

“You have to keep your hands to yourself and no coming until I say so. You got it?”

“Yes, darling.”

Opening the last drawer on your night stand you pulled out one of your vibrators and held it up for him to see, “is it ok if we use this?”

“Mhm.”

You shoved it in your pocket for later.

Taking him into your mouth, you began swirling your tongue in circular motions around the head of his cock. His labored pants were hushed and almost inaudible, you would’ve missed them if the two of you weren’t in complete silence.

Licking up and down his shaft you focused on pressing your tongue on the tip, as your hands began working, pumping him where your mouth couldn’t reach. You bobbed your head up and down occasionally, allowing the head of his cock pop in and out of your mouth. Slurp noises began invading the atmosphere around the two of you along with his whimpers. Your pace was fast and there were traces of your saliva coating his length entirely.

“Fuck darling,” his hands were reaching to grasp anything in his path but instead he ended up knocking everything off your night stand. “Y-Your lips were made to be around my cock. You know that?”

Jungkook’s praises were treats for your ego and you made sure to devour them in their entirety. He was a pleasant mess; his hair stuck out in all directions while his lips were swollen and vibrant with a scarlet hue as he kept biting down on them harshly. His glasses were slightly fogged and there were traces of saliva sitting on the corner of his mouth. All you wanted was to continue seeing him lose himself at your mercy.

You reached into your pocket and turned on the palm sized stimulator—you placed it against his balls before hitting the on button, setting off its vibrations. His head fell back and his hips buckled forward, causing you to gag around the majority of cock.

“I’m gonna come,” he cried out.

If anyone would’ve told you having Jungkook’s dick in your mouth would be this heavenly, you would live on your knees in front of him forever. Pleasuring him at every hour of every day but today you had different plans and once again he let out frustrated whimpers as you removed your mouth from around him.

“No—no, darling you’re fucking killing me. I need to come now,” he sounded desperate, “It hurts so bad. I need to come.”

“Don’t worry baby. We’re getting right to that,” you placed a kiss on his forehead.

“Did you bring any condoms?”

He shook his head, “I wasn’t exactly expecting things to go down this route.”

“Are you. .?”

“I’m clean. Are you?”

“I am.”

There was a timid breeze coming in through the opened window, it was enough to cool you down just a bit, well as cool as you could be without a fan.

Bouncing on Jungkook’s dick was even better than having him in your mouth. Sure, you loved the way he became a stuttering mess with the teasing of your tongue but having him deep inside of you, you felt like you were in your own heaven. On a deserted island somewhere with nothing but the swift breeze coming from the palm trees and his touch on your skin.

“You take me so well,” he whispered in your ear but you were too busy consumed by your own pleasure. Hyper focused on the way his hands dug into your waist; the way he swiftly pushed his cock in and out of you.

The sounds of your skin slapping against his blared through the room, as well as your profanities and his words of praise just as before.

Your nails dug into his shoulder as you felt a build up of tension tightening in the pit of your stomach, causing you to arch your back. Seemingly, the way you clenched around Jungkook he seemed to have noticed you were extremely close.

“Come for me darling,” with each word he buried his dick deeper into you.

It was a blissful paradise painted on the back of your eyelids as Jungkook continued to mold your insides with his dick, he was careful but rammed into you with such force, your voice was strained and you couldn’t hold it any longer. You finally came as sights of the beeming sun behind your closed eyes blinded you entirely.

“Come inside of me,” you managed; even more sweaty than how you began, absolutely tired and completely out of breath.

He chanted strings of your name as finally filled you up.

“Please come over more often and bring all of your brownies with you,” you were pressed up against him as he hugged your waist, placing a soft kiss on your head.

“How about we begin by going to that movie tomorrow?” It was so funny to you how Jungkook had practically just split you in two and now he was back to being soft spoken.

“It’s a date.”

It was now Friday, the power was finally back on around the city and Jungkook followed through on his plans to take you to the movies. The only problem was when you approached the theater you spotted your nosey landlord standing in line right beside Namjoon. “Before you say anything, Seokjin. Please just shut the fuck up.”

“You always think the worse of me,” he placed his hand on his chest, “all I was going to say is my Cupid’s bow is to thank for the two of you finally getting together.”

“In that case, thank you Seokjin,” Jungkook said.

“Don’t thank him.”

“Actually, please do. But the next time yall fuck in my building please keep it down. Just like the walls, the floors are also thin and the fifth floor did not appreciate your day of passion.”

“Seokjin, please go back to your own date,” you hissed, hoping no one else in line heard his little rant, “pretend we’re not here.”

Jungkook’s shame sat in his now red tinted cheeks, you peppered kisses on them to ease him.

“See, they can’t even keep their hands to themselves in public,” you heard Seokjin whisper.

This is going to be an interesting date.

-

-

-

a/n: this was pretty fun to write but supposed to be out on my birthday a couple days ago but i couldn’t meet the deadline sadly but please enjoy and disregard the smut scene if it’s bad. I tried lol my brain just wasn’t working 100%.

thanks for reading. comments, likes, reblogs and messages are always appreciated. let me know what you think ;)

[ashbye]

Fashion Show

-Look y'all I know I've been gone but I had a vision ok it came to me while I was doing yard work and I had to so enjoy. There's plot guys 🤚😔

Summary: While on a run you find something that would be the perfect surprise for Daryl. You show him and are very happy with the outcome.

-It's smutty oops 18+ 🤭 and not beta read. There's swearing so prepare yourselves. I HATE THE WORD PANTIES SO IM NOT WRITING IT! Unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it)

-Alexandria era (probably) and I am a women so its she/her (sorry)

It had been a while since you'd gone outside of the walls so you jumped at the chance to go on a run. Although you had wanted Daryl to join you he was unfortunately busy. Maggie and Michonne were joining you today so you can't complain.

After gathering the needed weapons and equipment you headed with the girls to a mall nearby that hadn't been checked thoroughly yet.

You got to the mall in record time with Michonne driving. Grabbing your machete in your hand and putting your gun in its holster, you got out of the car walking to the entrance behind Maggie.

"Why are we back here again I thought some guys had cleared it out already?" You asked turning to Michonne.

"They said there was too many walkers to get too far in do we're checking again."

You turned towards the door with a hum sound and raised your machete, walking into the mall. After scoping out the front the three of you found the mall to be almost completely empty aside from a few stray walkers that could be taken care of when you came across them.

Maggie turned to you both, "I say we split up, cover more ground."

You nodded before walking ahead as you all separated. Most stores you had looked through had been cleared out over time. There was a shirt here, a pair of socks there, but other than that it was a bit of a bust.

Until you saw a sign to a store ahead of you to your right. "No fucking way..."

You picked up the walkie talkie on your hip and called to Maggie and Michonne. "You guys are not gonna believe what I just found."

"What is it?" Michonne asked urgency in her tone.

"Either of you need any new bras?"

"Obviously, why?" Maggie was incredibly confused by now. You laughed before responding again.

"Go straight and take a right you'll find me. You need to see it to believe it." You put the walkie back after hearing Michonne say she's on her way.

You turn to the approaching footsteps and laugh. "Isn't it great? A Victoria Secret practically over flowing with unused bras and underwear!" Maggie smirked at you "You wanna find something special for Daryl huh?"

Michonne laughed at your expense but you couldn't care less because you're pretty sure you've been wearing the same bra for 2 months now.

And, duh of course you're gonna find stuff for Daryl. You're a loving girlfriend why wouldn't you get a present for him when you're on a run?

"Uh hell yeah I am! If I can find something to make me look sexy for my man of course I'm gonna take it!" You speed walk into the store with the girls following you chuckling.

You hold up a beautiful red set. It's lace would compliment her skin perfectly, you think. "Michonne, if you don't take this home for Rick, I will riot." You hold up to the girls so they can look at it.

"Oh please get that!" Maggie practically begs Michonne. "Alright I'll take it!" Michonne says with a smikr on her face after holding it up to her body.

The rest of the 'shopping spree' goes similarly, with you each holding up sheer and lace bras and panties for the others to take home and wear.

You found quite a few for yourself to surprise Daryl with later. You carefully put them in your bag with a smile.

After your escapade at Victoria Secret you all successfully grabbed every useful thing you could find and packed it into the car.

You were almost shaking with excitement when you got home, the clothes feeling like a thousand pounds in your bag.

It wasn't until everything you found that day was sorted through and put where it was supposed to be that you could go back home to Daryl. You walked through the door calling out to him that you were back. "Hey Darlin'. How was the run?" The familiar gravelly voice said from behind you.

You turned to him with a smile and placed your hands on his hips. You gave him a long kiss with a smile. "It went really well. I have a surprise for you actually." You pulled away from his face with only a few inches of space between you two.

"Surprise?" He asked with a vaguely shocked face.

You hummed with a smirk on your face. "Yeah after dinner I'll show you what your present is."

"So it's an after dinner kinda gift huh?"

You nodded before pulling away from him to hide the gifts in your bedroom. "I promise it'll be worth the wait."

It's now dark outside and Daryl is sitting on the front porch smoking a cigarette. You walk up to him and sit down, leaning your head on his shoulder with a sigh.

You sit in silence for a moment before looking up at him. "Are you ready for your surprise Dar?"

He blew smoke out of his mouth before taking the cigarette from between his lips. "Hell yeah baby." He said before grabbing your hand and pulling you up with him.

You lead him to your bedroom with a laugh excitement flowing through both of your veins. Once the door was closed behind you both you turned and gave him a searing kiss. He grabbed your hips tightly with a hum in the back of his throat.

You slowly pulled away and pushed him onto the side of the bed. "I'm gonna give you a little fashion show. How does that sound?"

He looked up at you with a slight nod before you gently slid away from him. You went to the bathroom and put on the first set you got. It was white lace with a black lace flower pattern.

You slowly cracked the door to stick out your head. "You ready?"

"Been ready Darlin'."

The door was slowly pulled away to showcase your body that you had draped across the doorframe. You smirked at him when you saw his eyes slightly widen.

"What do you think Dar?" You slowly turned you body to show him the whole thing.

"Well shit..." he was almost speechless. He wasn't sure how long he'd last. And this was only the first one!

You walked toward him and placed your hands on his shoulders. "You like it?" Your smirk had yet to wipe from your face.

"I- uh yeah ya look-" he could barely even get the words out. He could only look up and down your body with lust clouding his brain.

"I have a couple more for you to take a look at." You pulled away from him and walked back to the bathroom, closing the door behind you. Daryl could barely process the fact that you even left the room.

Meanwhile, you're giggling to yourself like a schoolgirl in the bathroom at the look on his face. Once you were ready you opened the door again, looking at Daryl.

This time you're wearing a dark purple set. It had sheer lace with small lime green polka dots. "What do you think about this one? It's a little different." You said, walking up to Daryl.

"I like it." He said, eating you with his eyes like you were his last meal. You chuckled at him before doing a spin.

He nodded his head looking like his head was in the clouds. You gave his cheek a kiss with a small smile on your face. Walking backwards to the bathroom you closed the door and prepared the next one.

You walked out wearing a pale yellow lace set that had cute little bows on the front. It was less revealing but Daryl liked it just as much as the others. You could only stare as you walked up to him. Completely mesmerized with how beautiful you looked.

He wanted to worship you like a goddess. He would kneel at your altar for the rest of eternity if it meant that you would give him even a fraction of the love and elegance you grace him with everyday. You could be covered in blood and walker guts or be wearing the prettiest pale yellow lingerie he's ever seen and he would still think you're the most exquisite women he's ever seen.

"Ya're beautiful." He said, it was the only thing the connection between his brain and mouth could compute.

And you were just fine with that.

"Yeah?" You ask with a big smile on your face. He nods with a small raspy yeah that makes you chuckle. "If this one is your favorite I'll keep it on so you can make love to me or fuck me however you want."

"However I want?" He seemed almost surprised.

"However you want. We can be all slow and tender or you can fuck me so dumb I'm cock drunk. How does that sound?"

Daryl couldn't even come up with words before he stood to full height in front of you and grabbed under thighs. He turned and layed you on your back, pressing his mouth to yours in a heated kiss. His hands ran up and down your legs searching for a hold.

Your arms wrapped around his neck as a moan left your mouth. Your tongues pressed together and you gave him all control. Daryl moved you up so your head was on the pillow. He took off his vest and threw it to the side before movie his mouth to your neck. He left kisses and bites up the column of your throat.

Small sighs left your mouth and your hands ran up and down his chest. Your fingers started unbuttoning his shirt and pushed it off his shoulders. You threw his shirt off to the side and it's lost to floor somewhere with his vest.

His hand made it's way up to the band of your underwear. His fingers slipped past the band and pulled it away from you skin. You yelped when Daryl let it snap back onto your skin.

His hand finally sunk past the band of your underwear and grazed your clit. You let out a sigh and brought you hand to his face to bring your lips to his. He let out a groan when you lightly bit his lip. Your leg jolted as he continued to make small circles on your clit.

You moaned again and pulled away from his lips as his fingers dipped down. "Dar please!" Left your mouth like a mantra as you gripped his shoulders and your legs pulled him closer.

"Hold on Darlin' gotta make sure ya're good and ready yeah?" His movements became faster as he felt you're pussy grip his fingers. You nod as moans leave your mouth from the feeling.

"Dar I'm gonna-" your sentence went unfinished as you felt the coil in your stomach snap. Daryl kissed you through your orgasm as your body finally relaxed. He gently slid the bottoms down your legs and onto the floor before unclipping you bra and placing it next to it. You were panting under him as his hands went to his pants. He had stripped down before you could even offer any help.

He looked in your eyes as he lined himself up with your cunt. "Ya ready baby?" You nodded as you wrapped your arms around his chest. "Yeah, yeah I'm ready." You said in a reassuring tone.

He slowly slid himself into you. "So wet baby. Taking me so good." He played his body on top of you and used his forearms to hold him over you. You sat with him for a second to get used to his size. With a nod from you he started to slowly grind his hips into yours.

Small whimpers left your mouth as his speed increased. He let out heavy breaths and groans along with his thrusts. "Fuck Dar-" you moaned as you nails dug into his back.

"I got ya baby, I got ya"

His hips got faster as you both got closer to release. Your legs locked around his hips to keep him close. "Please baby, cum inside please!" Your eyes were screwed shut tightly as Daryl's jaw hung open in pleasure.

Your pussy gripped his cock as the coil tightened for the second time tonight. "Come on Darlin' cum for me" he said to you. Your nails dragged down his back leaving angry red lines on his skin.

He let out a groan at the sting as his hips stuttered. "Holy shit Daryl!" You said as your orgasm washed over you completely. The squeezing of pussy sent Daryl over the edge as he finally let go with a loud moan. His head fell next to yours as his hips slowed, helping you ride out the wave of pleasure.

The room was quiet aside from the breaths leaving you and Daryl. He slowly pulled out of you as his cum poured out of you. He kissed your cheek and neck as his had brushed your hair out of your face. "Ya did such a good job Darlin'."

You looked up at him as you softly kissed his lips and held his face in your hand. He rolled onto his back next to you. He turned you with him so your head was on his chest.

After calming down you look up to him with tired eyes. "I love you Daryl Dixon."

He looked to you with pure love and adoration in his eyes, "I love ya too Darlin'. So much."

You layed back on his chest as you held eachother in the quiet of the night. Even though the world had practically ended, you had never felt safer and more loved than you did when you were in Daryl's arms.

[aphroditelovesu]

Persian Queen

❝commission: non-con/dun-con smut with Alexander the Great where the Reader is the Queen of Persia and Alexander decides to... know the Reader in front of the King and Reader enjoys it.

❝ 📜 — lady l: I really need to try to improve my smuts... But I don't write them that often :V anyway, I hope you like it! Forgive me for any mistakes!! ❤️

❝tw: non-con/dub-con elements, smut, NSFW, threat of murder, adultery.

❝📜pairing: yandere!alexander the great x female!reader.

❝word count: 1,833.

Your heart was racing and it felt like it was beating harder and harder inside your chest with every step you took towards the new chambers of the new King of Persia.

Alexander of Macedonia.

You felt your mouth go dry with disgust. He was not the King, just a barbarian who invaded your Empire and took it at the cost of the lives of thousands of people. Darius, your husband, tried to fight against the Macedonians but even the strength and power that the Persians possessed were not enough to stop Alexander's ambition for Persia.

And now, you were his hostages.

You looked at one of the windows in the hallway and observed what little you could see of the city. Babylon was a beautiful and lively city and even with the occupation of the Macedonians this had not changed. And for that you were grateful.

When you reached the door to Darius's and now Alexander's old chambers, you took a deep breath and mentally counted to three and when you did, you finally knocked on the door hesitantly.

"Come in." A loud, hoarse voice resounded from within the chambers. You slowly opened the door and peeked inside. You felt your anxiety increase, your breathing become heavy when you noticed that Alexander was with Darius, your husband.

And Darius was securely strapped to a gold-trimmed chair.

You entered the room slowly and closed the door behind you, feeling terrified of what could happen.

Alexander looked at you with a smile gracing his lips. You felt a shiver run down your spine due to what that smile could mean.

"It's a pleasure to see you again, Your Majesty." Alexander said, looking at you with interest shining in his different colored eyes. One brown and one blue. You cursed yourself for finding them beautiful, for finding Alexander an attractive man.

One thing you found good about Alexander, perhaps the only thing, was that he still treated you with respect and dignity. Although he had the right to kill you or send you into slavery, he allowed you to maintain your status as Queen, your privileges and all your due honors.

"I say the same, my King." You tried to hide the disgust you felt when calling him King. Alexander wasn't your king, at least you didn't consider him one.

You turned your gaze to Darius, who looked slightly terrified, although he hid it well. But you knew him and you knew that what he felt was pure fear. Fear for him and for you.

Alexander followed your gaze and smiled, "Your husband is here to have full knowledge of my plans as King of Persia."

You swallowed hard, "... What does that mean?"

You had a bad feeling when Alexander approached you and stood behind you, his hands resting on your shoulders covered in the rich fabric that adorned your body.

Alexander tilted his head to the side and you suppressed a groan of revulsion — that's what you believed it was — when his warm breath caressed the sensitive skin of your neck.

Alexander's hands went to your arms, caressing them with his calloused fingers. You closed your eyes, not being able to bear to look at Darius, who was watching everything angrily.

You felt your face heat up when you felt Alexander's calm breath in your ear, "It means I'm going to take you as mine."

You felt your body tense even more as Alexander's words registered in your mind. What they meant.

In the blink of an eye, Alexander spun you around so you were facing him. When you looked into his eyes, you saw desire, pure lust shining in them. Alexander smiled and brought his index finger to your chin, lifting it. You held your breath as he brought your face closer to his, capturing your lips in a soft kiss.

Your body trembled slightly at the brush of his lips against yours. You closed your eyes when Alexander brought his hands to your head, holding it as he kissed you harder, with more passion. You opened your mouth a little wider when you felt Alexander's tongue on your lips, indicating that he wanted to deepen the kiss and, for some inexplicable reason, you allowed it.

You hesitantly wrapped your arms around the conqueror's strong body, kissing him back with the same desire. It was wrong for many reasons, but it had been a while since you had been touched and Alexander's kisses were hot, they warmed your body in a way that even the thickest fur blankets couldn't.

It was the kind of kiss, of touch, that you knew you would never forget.

When you separated, your breathing was ragged, your face hot and your lips slightly swollen. You refused to look him in the eye, feeling guilty for having betrayed your husband, who was watching everything. Alexander noticed this and smiled mischievously.

''Don't worry about him.'' He purred and grabbed your hand, pulling you to the huge bed in the middle of the room. Bed you knew well enough, remembering the passionate and steamy nights you used to have with Darius. You shook your head, trying not to think about it as you were laid down on the bed by Alexander.

You knew what was going to happen, you knew what Alexander planned to do the moment you felt him analyzing your clothes. Your body trembled slightly at the thought, but you couldn't help the heat that was also inflicted on your body as you were kissed. It had been so long since you and your husband had slept that it wasn't your fault that your body betrayed your mind.

Alexander removed his own robes, a white chiton with some gold trim, and let them fall to the carpet. He approached the bed, where you remained lying like a beautiful statue. He climbed onto the huge bed, sitting next to you. His calloused hands ran over your face gently, caressing it with tenderness that you knew could melt your defenses easily.

''Beautiful...'' He whispered, kissing your forehead gently. You smiled weakly at the compliment. Alexander kissed your lips softly, his hands going to your legs, caressing your soft thighs. He squeezed them tightly, drawing a sigh from you. You bit back a moan when you felt his fingers dangerously close to your center covered only by your clothing. Alexander smiled and without you being able to do anything, he slid two fingers into your intimacy, arching his eyebrow when he felt the moisture there.

You blushed heavily and turned your head, looking to the side. Alexander began to lift the hem of your dress, exposing your legs and leaving them free to be touched and appreciated. You let out a soft moan when Alexander's fingers rubbed your pleasure spot between your legs, making you relax your body, opening your legs a little wider. Alexander took the opening and slipped between your legs, caressing your thighs with one hand and the other exploring your wet cunt.

''A-Ah...'' You sighed when Alexander finally entered a finger into your tight, wet hole. Your body felt hot, the robes you wore didn't help with how hot the room became.

Alexander smiled even wider and kissed the inside of your warm thighs, inserting a second finger into your pussy. You cursed as he moved back and forth and your sensitive walls squeezed his fingers. You were already wet and ready, your cunt sensitive to the touch it hadn't had in a long time.

''You're so beautiful, so soft.'' Alexander purred, removing his wet fingers from your pussy and taking them to his mouth, tasting you. You felt like you were going to pass out at the sight, at the sight of him delighting in your taste.

He stood over you, bringing his face closer to yours and taking your lips in another passionate kiss, and this time, without any hesitation, you kissed him back, your tongues meeting. Alexander pulled the top part of your dress down, ripping off the jewelry that adorned you and throwing them anywhere in the room. He stopped kissing you and went down to your breasts and licked the tip of your right breast, sucking it a little hard.

You moaned at the contact and threw your head back, enjoying the licks. Your breasts have always been a sensitive part of you and it only proved more and more that Alexander paid attention to them and the desire inside you grew more and more. You didn't even notice when you started rubbing one thigh against the other, in an attempt to alleviate the desire.

But Alexander noticed and he decided not to make you wait any longer to be filled. He positioned himself correctly between your thighs and you caught a glimpse of his erection. Your face turned a shade of scarlet with his visible desire, the tip leaking precum. Alexander grabbed your thighs, lifting them a little for a better angle. He placed the tip of his cock against the entrance to your pussy and, after squeezing your thigh once more, Alexander thrusted into you hard.

You moaned loudly at the sudden intrusion and gripped the sheets tightly, your knuckles turning white. Alexander didn't really give you time to adjust, he just started fucking you hard, pushing you harder against the silk sheets.

The only sounds in the room were your moans and Alexander's hoarse moans. He grabbed your left breast, squeezing it as he thrust his hips hard, slamming into you. You threw your head back, your eyes closing as all you felt was Alexander inside you.

''So fucking beautiful...'' Alexander groaned, watching your face. You were so beautiful. And so his. Alexander didn't care that Darius, your husband for now, was watching him take you. Alexander just wanted you.

Alexander squeezed your thighs tighter as he felt his climax approaching. Feeling this, he started to hit you harder, eliciting loud moans from you. When he finally came, he moaned your name loudly like a prayer, his cum filling your warm insides. Alexander took a deep breath and pulled away from you.

You continued to lie down, feeling as guilty as you were satisfied. You could feel Alexander's seed inside you, with the possibility of making you pregnant. But you were too breathless to do anything, too tired to care.

Alexander smiled and turned to Darius, who had an expression of fury. The conqueror had almost forgotten the former King.

''Now that I have taken your Empire and now your wife...'' Alexander smiled mischievously at Darius, ''The time has come to take your life so that I can marry your wife.''

The Macedonians loved to conquer what did not belong to them.

[featherandferns]

daylight - nine

jj maybank x fem!reader | part 9 of the daylight series | read part 8 here

content warnings: mentions of sex; mentions of alcohol

word count: 3.9k.

blurb: restless after the argument with JJ, you resort to looking through the journal you kept when you were dating Tyler. Maybe it's time to try and let the past go.

You can’t sleep.

Every time you close your eyes, you hear the argument between you and JJ echo in your mind. The horrible things you said to one another. The perfect avoidance of the truth, as if the two of you were reciting steps in a dance. The thought that everything between you might be ruined keeps you from finding rest.

Mimsy still hasn’t returned any of your calls. Never before have you felt the distance between the two of you to be so gaping. Vancouver feels like asylum that you can’t seek: it feels as unattainable as visiting heaven. You just want to be home, in your old bedroom, in your old bed, surrounded by your old friends. You want to go back to a time before JJ and before Kildare and, more importantly, before Tyler.

Tired of staring at the ceiling, you shove your sheets off and climb out of bed. Stretching, your eyes gravitate to your pin-board. JJ seems to shine brighter than everyone else, it's as if he's backlit. You're momentarily distracted by his radiant smile. By those eyes that could bring you to your knees; the very eyes that captured you before he’d even spoken a word your way. And now, when you see his face, all you can think of is that last conversation. You look away and, like a moth drawn to a flame, or a pirate guided by a siren’s call, your eyes latch on to the shoebox under your bed. 

Something inside of you has you sinking to your knees before it. You guide it out, holding the cardboard like it’s the fragile casing of a bomb. Sitting cross legged on your bedroom floor, you take the lid of the box and lift out the journal. A finger dusts over its worn cover and a solemn smile tries but fails to make its way onto your face. Your fingers crack the pages open. And then, you start to read. 

June 3

Me and Mimsy went to a kegger today. It was pretty boring and not many people were there. We mostly hung out with Kelly and Evan. I played some beer pong - I swear I’m getting better. I ended up talking to this guy called Tyler. He goes to the boys only school in the neighbourhood. He likes country music, which is icky as hell, and he’s a little lanky. I don’t think he likes me very much. We talked for a bit but he didn’t say much, and I felt like I was chewing his ear off, so I went back to Mimsy and decided to quit bothering him. He’s cute though, so it’s a shame. There’s this tenderness in his eyes. I don’t know, I guess I felt sorry when I looked in them. I feel like if he gets coaxed out and given the right space, he might be able to really open up. But if you don’t like someone, I guess you won’t jump at the chance, right? I probably won’t see him again anyway. We don’t really run in the same circles. 

June 17

Mimsy has the flu and I’m scared I’m going to catch it too. I have a photography gig in two days at the hockey club in town and I don’t want to miss it. I think it’ll be really good for the gram and maybe get me some more work opportunities. My post the other week got three thousand likes. How crazy is that? I think I need to get better at editing. That’s usually what sets people’s photography apart. 

June 19

So, the photography thing was today and it was a success! The team were really nice and the coach said he has this sister who’s throwing an anniversary get-together thing in a week or so. He asked if he could pass on my information. I finally feel like this might be something I can actually do, for money and for the long term. Mimsy’s feeling a bit better. I don’t think I’ve caught her bug so that’s a win. Tomorrow I’ll take her some soup and stuff. Oh! And that Tyler guy was at the hockey club too. Apparently he coaches the girls-only team. He was more chatty this time. The guys in the locker rooms had beers and they offered me one, so maybe he gets more talkative when he has a drink? Anyway, we talked for a while. He’s kind of dorky but it’s sweet. He’s a Marvel boy. How funny is that? I don’t think I’ve seen more than five Marvel films and this guy lives and breathes them. I ended up telling him how I thought he hated me when we first met and apparently he thought that I hated him! How funny is that!? He said he gets nervous talking to girls he likes, and when I walked away, he thought he’d messed up. It was really endearing. Long story short, I gave him my number. I think we’re going to hang out in a few days or something. 

June 26

Okay, don’t freak out but I think I’m actually really into Tyler? He’s really easy to talk to. I feel like I can say the most private stuff and he actually listens. We keep meeting up at Billy’s Bagels and talking for ages. He told me about this car crash he got into and I told him about the time me and Mimsy tried to go hitch-hiking and she was convinced we got in a serial killer’s car. He also leaves me these little notes on the receipts. Cute little things. But it’s so confusing, because he won’t make a move. Like, we’ll be sitting side by side and he won’t put a hand on my leg or pull me close. And he never tries to hold my hand. Hasn’t kissed me. Barely hugged me. It makes me wonder if I’m reading everything wrong. I’m just so tired of being the person who always makes the first move and I want him to just do something! I want to know if he feels the same way as me. 

June 28

I’m about to lose my fucking mind. I swear to God, I’m this close to being done with this whole thing. One minute, Tyler’s talking to me like crazy and making me laugh, and laughing at my jokes, and the next, he’s acting like he’s never seen me before in his life. I took Mimsy’s advice, the other night, and when we were walking back, I really dragged it out. And I stood there for ages, outside my house, waiting for him to make a move. We’d spent the whole day together. Got food, went surfing. Then he hugs me. He fucking hugs me. I was livid. I was absolutely furious. I just started walking to my house. And then, I have no idea why, I turned around and chased him down and grabbed him and kissed him. Okay, I basically ran away straight after, but I kissed him. So, great, right? Now we’re on the same page, surely? I mean, he kissed me back. Well, me and Mimsy go out the next day (now that she no longer feels like a corpse) and we walk past Tyler and his friend. I smile at him and wave and he walks straight past us. Mimsy - who said I was overthinking everything - was furious. I think she wanted to run across the road and rip his balls of his body in that moment, to be honest. All I could think about was how awful it felt. It was like last night never even happened. Did I assault him? I mean, did I read this whole thing wrong? He said he liked me, that’s why he was scared to talk to me, but then he fucking ignores me after I full-on kiss him!? I'm just so confused and losing my patience. I'm starting to wonder if it's worth all of this.

June 30

Mimsy tried to cheer me up by taking me to a kegger. Shock horror: Tyler was there. He came up to me about an hour in and asked if I wanted to go for a walk, so I said yes. We ended up at that lake near Molly’s house, and we were looking at the stars. I don’t really remember how or why we got there. Then, out of the blue, he apologised. I don’t think I’ve ever had a guy apologise to me before. He said he was an idiot for not kissing me the other day, and that he was just nervous and really wanted to. Then he kissed me, properly, and it was perfect. I’ve never felt that way before. I think he’s redeemed himself. I’m a little scared to tell Mimsy though…

July 19

Sorry I haven’t written in a while. I got busy. I’ve been spending a lot of time with Tyler, honestly. We’ve been getting to know each other better. He introduced me to his friends and his mom, who apparently really liked me. I’ve been subjected to so much fucking country music. He doesn’t really compliment me though and it’s a little bit upsetting, I can't lie. I like hearing that kind of thing. Like we went for dinner the other night and I made a bit of an effort and he didn’t call me pretty once. Maybe I’m overthinking it. He’s more of a physical affection guy, to be honest. But still. It would be nice to hear it every now and then. He can handle his drink really well though. In fact, he drank Mimsy under the table the other day which was quite funny. He gets all touchy feely when he’s drunk, it’s so cute. He told me that he’s never opened up to someone like he has with me before. Told me things that he’s never told anyone else. He told me about his ex-girlfriend and how she was crazy. I feel so bad for him, that he was in that kind of situation. He laughs at all my stupid jokes. He even told me that nobody else has made him laugh so much before. I don’t know, I get all mushy when he says things like that. I feel like I’m bringing him out of his shell. He said his anxiety is a lot better since he met me, so I guess whatever I’m doing, it’s helping. 

July 24

I slept with Tyler hehe. It was so perfect. He was so caring and kept asking if I was okay and stuff, and I brought up the whole compliment thing and he apologised. He’s so good at taking accountability for when he’s done wrong - it’s so refreshing. He told me I have the prettiest eyes he’s ever seen. I don’t know why that hit me so much. I just think you can tell so much about a person from their eyes. They never age. I'm scared a s fuck though because I really think I might be falling in love with him. Oh no.

August 8

I don’t really have tons to say. Mom and dad got in a big argument yesterday, so there’s that. Mimsy thinks they should just get divorced. It feels weird, thinking about your parents getting divorced. The whole two Christmases and two birthday thing. I don't know, maybe she’s right. They basically hate each other. Dad keeps bringing up North Carolina and how great everything is there. How his life was so much better. Charming, really, when I’ve spent my whole life in Vancouver with him. Really makes you feel special. Tyler’s been kind of busy lately. I keep wanting to go on dates but he just wants to stay in. He told me he doesn’t like PDA. It makes him feel weird. I want to hold his hand but I feel bad. I mean, I don’t want to make him uncomfortable. Besides, I get to touch him all I want when we’re at home together, so who really cares? 

October 14

Tyler hasn’t called me pretty in over a month. I told him and he apologised. He still hasn’t called me pretty. I miss how it was in the summer. It feels like he’s retreating into himself. I don’t know what’s happening. Why everything is changing? What did I do wrong? I didn't change, did I? 

November 19

I think I was overthinking it all lately. Tyler just invited me to join him and his family at Christmas on Victoria Island. He left me a little note, too, after he stayed at my house. It was really cute. It said, ‘I miss stargazing with you in the summer’. Mimsy says that maybe I need to clarify a few things with him. Set some more boundaries. He always talks about those girls on the hockey team he coaches, and whenever girls come up to him when he’s out with his friends. I like that he trusts me and wants to tell me these things, but also, if I trust him, why does he feel the need to tell me? It feels like he’s dangling it in my face almost. I don’t know, I’m probably thinking about it all wrong. I don’t know if I’ve got a stomach bug. My IBS has been crazy bad lately. It’s so annoying. 

December 6

I don’t think I’m happy with Tyler anymore. It’s like he’s a completely different person. I hardly even recognise him. We don’t really talk anymore like we used to. He says he’s really busy with school and coaching. I'm throwing myself into photography jobs to try and keep myself busy or else I just spiral. I don't want to tell Mimsy because I know what her advice will be. And I'm just not ready to face that yet.  

December 26

I leave for Victoria Island today. I’m meeting Tyler at the ferry station. He asked where I wanted to meet and I left it up to him at first. I mean, the obvious answer is the ferry station. That’s romantic. He can come pick me up. But he said, ‘whatever you prefer’ so I felt like I was putting him out by asking him to meet me at the ferry station. I don’t know. I just don’t even know if he wants me to go anymore. He hasn’t said. He hasn’t even said if he’s excited to see me. It’s an awful feeling, when you feel like someone doesn’t care if you’re there or not. Maybe it’ll be different when I see him in person. It’s been over a week since I last saw him and we haven’t been able to talk on the phone. I don’t know. Maybe I’m just kidding myself. I just think if I’m painfully honest with myself, I don’t want to go to Victoria anymore. 

December 27

I think it's over. 

December 29

I don’t even know what happened. I don’t know how to explain it but I feel like I need to get it all out on paper and just walk away from it forever. I think that’s the only way I can even start to make sense of the last six months. It was awful. I fucking hate him and I’m so fucking confused. Jesus, I have been for the past four months. 

Tyler didn’t hug me or kiss me when I got off the ferry, but I guess because he doesn’t like PDA that’s a given. He didn’t introduce me to any of his extended family and left me to fend for myself in conversations. When we first got to the cabin, he sat on the bed and scrolled on his phone with his back facing me for an hour. A fucking hour. Then he went on Duolingo and checked the fucking hockey scores. And I just sat there for an hour after paying for a ferry ticket. Oh, yeah, cause he didn’t pay for any of my travel. When I said I was hungry and was going to get food, he came with me and got himself something. Again, didn’t pay for me. We got his favourite take out. It’s always things he wants to do. I told him I needed a nap and went to my room, and I called Mimsy who was equally as angry. I mean, why the fuck did he call me out there? I’ve never felt so disrespected, so unwanted, in my life. It’s fucking awful. Tyler texted me to meet him and I told him I wanted to stay in. He asked if I was okay and I told him I was angry, and he came to my room. And he was so fucking calm and collected it made me feel like I was overthinking it. Like I was the one blowing everything out of proportion. I told him about how I felt like I wasn’t wanted and he told me that I was. He just said it was weird seeing me in person again. It had been a fucking week. We went out with his family and I put on a brave face, and the whole time he barely spoke to me. Didn’t look at me, didn’t hold my hand, didn’t take a picture of me or of us. I hated it. When I got back to my room, he came over and laid down on the bed. And I told him I was so confused. He just nodded. And he was back to old Tyler. Chatty, familiar Tyler who makes jokes with me and compliments me. He told me how beautiful I was and how pretty my eyes are and all I could think was how he hadn’t said any of that for two whole months. How for two months I felt like I had no idea what was happening. And it made me weak. I hate myself for it but I let him kiss me. We made out and cuddled and it felt like old times, and I finally felt normal again. And then we fell asleep, woke up, and he was back to how he was the day before. Distant and cold and confusing. I think that was when I decided that maybe it was time to leave. 

When we slept together that night, it felt like he almost knew what was going to happen. All of it felt like a goodbye. I tried to enjoy it and feel close to him but I just felt so far away. Afterwards, he didn’t hold me. He didn’t cuddle me when we slept and the next morning, he barely looked at me. He just went on his phone when all I wanted was to be held. That’s all I’ve ever wanted from him, to feel held by him, and he’s never made me feel like I was. I mean, I feel more love from Mimsy than him. How fucked is that.

He walked me to the ferry station and I was wondering what to do. What to say. Whether to confront him and see if I could start a fight. Jesus, anything would do. And for whatever fucking reason, I went for the hail Mary, I guess you could say. I stood there, like the fucking idiot I am, and I told him I loved him. And you know what he said? Nothing.

He said absolutely nothing. 

Then he just nodded - like the useless asshole he is - and told me, get ready for this one, that his ‘family thought I was really nice’. 

I don’t even remember what I did then. All I can remember is sitting on the ferry and texting Mimsy, asking her to pick me up from the ferry station. 

I just don’t understand. I don’t understand why this happened, or how, or who he was. He apologised the next day. What for, I don’t even know anymore. Maybe all of it? But all I can remember thinking, when I read that text, was how I just knew he didn’t mean it. It was fucking Pavlovian by that point: he would know I was upset and apologise, and I’d forgive him and believe that he might change, and we’d carry on. What's the Taylor Swift lyric? You're an expert at sorry? That's him in a nutshell.

You want to know the real kicker? When I told him that I wanted to break up, he told me he didn’t know we were even together like that. So, I ask you again: who the fuck was he? I don’t think I’m ever gonna know. 

January 1

Happy new year. I think Tyler’s blocked me. 

February 9

Mimsy just heard from Darren P that Tyler has a new girlfriend. I think I’m going to throw up. I can’t do this anymore. I just want to forget about all of it but I keep thinking of all the little things that I ignored. All the signs from the start. How it took him to be drunk to even acknowledge that I existed. How it was always on his terms. What he wanted to do. What he needed from me. I wish I never slept with him. I wish he never touched my body. It makes me feel sick that I let him sleep with me that last night. I just feel so fucking used and dirty. Mimsy says it wasn’t my fault but I can’t shake this guilt for not leaving sooner, because the signs were always there. I mean, I thought he hated me. Why the fuck didn’t I walk away sooner?

I thought he hated me. 

That’s the final entry. 

You sit and stare at the barely filled page and then snap the book closed as if you just read how the world is going to end.

The condensing of the turbulent six months you spent with Tyler in a handful of diary entries fails to capture the mass of anxiety, paranoia and pain. The restless nights that you remedied by sprinting at the gym. The meals you skipped because you felt sick to your stomach. The parties ruined when you ended them in alcohol-provoked tears, sobbing to Mimsy about how things felt ‘off’ with you and Tyler. The humiliation you felt throughout the holidays and the disgust that lingered after your final night together. The shame that haunted you for letting yourself do all of that, feel all of that, lose all of that, to some fucking deadbeat guy. 

Because that was what it all came down to. It came down to the fact that you let yourself sit there and take it. That because you felt pity for him, and saw potential, you stayed and fought and tried. God, you tried so hard to mould him into the man you thought he could be without looking at his credentials. And now, on the other side of the continent, several months past the whole affair, you finally realise what it was. 

You fell in love with the idea of Tyler, not Tyler himself. 

It's like the revelation hits you in the head like a hammer. Resets your thoughts. Grabbing the box of things, you head down the stairs. It feels as though you’re not in control of your body. Unlocking the back door, you head into the yard. Ditch the box so you can set up the bonfire, igniting it with the lighter JJ gave you. 

You’re breathing heavily as you stare at the flames. It’s like you’ve been boxing in a ring. You guess, in a way, you have. But you’re tired of battling with the past. Fighting against the memories only to get knocked down, again and again. Wounding you so badly that you can’t face the fact that maybe someone might actually care about you, just as much as you care about them. That maybe you can trust someone. 

When you burn the first photo, you feel a little insane. You never much believed in any of the mindfulness crap Instagram wellness influencers preached. The writing-regrets-on-a-plate-and-smashing-it-up type things. But as you stand, burning the memories of Tyler - anything that reminds you of him, anything that he gave you, anything that he took - you feel like you’re coming back to yourself, piece by piece. Watching the embers lick up his face, crackling until its nothing but ashes and indistinguishable remnants feels like healing, plain and simple.  

The only thing that’s left now is the diary. You hold it in your hands like it’s a first-edition copy of the first book ever written. It feels like the manuscript, encapsulating the entire torrid affair of you and Tyler. The final artefact of your silently toxic relationship, keeping you tethered to your past trauma. Swallowing, you toss it into the metal canister. When you open them again, you see the flames already laying claim to the pages. 

And finally, for the first time, the story feels as though it isn’t yours anymore.

For the first time in months, you feel free.

read part ten here!

taglist:

@princessuki21 | @psyches-reid | @heybank | @avengersgirllorianna | @rrosiitas | @yourmumstoy | @jjsfavgirl | @void21 | @fictionalcomforts | @gsp420 | @redhead1180 | @wearemadeofstardust0 | @mrs-jjmaybank | @ifilwtmfc | @heybank | @lilyw1235 | @belle101200 | @maybankskiss | @lillell467 | please tell me if any tags aren't working - I've never done taglists before!

[loveswrites]

ok so how about cullen poly during the fight scene in the fourth movie orrrr cullen poly with how spending a day with them would be like

Tomorrow Poly Cullens x reader

Summary: Basically what the lovely anon asked for but I didn’t listen what so ever so I might make a part two if you guys want.

Etc: And if you loves want a part two let me know and drop some ideas for what they could do in their two hours aloneee. Also thank you my loves for all of the notes it encourages me to write more things for you guys and not just myself lol <3

Word count: 1694

Time it took: 1 hour and 40 minutes

“How could you be like a thousand years old and still so stupid!” You huffed holding your head in your hand. You and the Cullens had been fighting lately. You don’t know why.. Well maybe you have something to do with it.

“How am I stupid? I really can’t hangout with you today my darling. We need to hunt. Especially Jasper, with you being around a lot more his hunger levels tend to double.” Carlisle said. You could just picture him looking at you in sympathy. 

You had called him because apparently all of your lovers are just too busy to hang out with you. You thought Carlisle would be free seeing as he was off today but I guess that wasn’t the case. He was off to go hunting with the rest of the family. Jasper had to leave earlier than the rest. So Alice, Emmett and Esme went with him. You thought Edward would be free since he didn’t go with him but he was in one of his petty moods ever since you went to hang out with Seth and Jacob with Bella. You told him he had nothing to worry about but he insisted that he did. Him and his stupid stupid mind reading. Which led to a fight with him so he was on the bottom of the roster right now.

Then there was Rosalie which was just a hard no for you. You didn’t want to hang out with her right now. Why you may ask? She threw away your pasta three days ago because she said it stunk. Who is she to throw away your pasta? You don’t walk around here popping her blood bags because you don’t like the way it looks to you. Maybe you should. I thought about it for a while and eventually said it out loud, Which was another fight with her that you could just add to the list.

So that left Carlisle who was perfect. Just perfect. He had picked you up from school just earlier today because you told him that you needed a ride. Since everyone else was busy he came and got you. Which he usually doesn’t do because it draws attention. But by now everyone was used to you being with and around the Cullens. Though they don’t know that you date them all. They only know that you date Jasper and Edward which they already thought was weird as hell. But you never cared. You're in love with two vampires that are the downfall to all of the human race. And you think that the world can know that. Know just enough without blowing the cover of it all.

“My love, I know that you are disappointed and upset with us but sadly there is nothing that I can offer for a solution.” Carlisle said after hearing your long aspirated sigh. 

“It’s like you guys are avoiding me. I don’t feel loved at all. I want some love without an argument following through not even two minutes in.” You said, Stripping yourself of your clothes preparing to take a shower since you had nothing better to do. 

“We are not avoiding you-” Carlisle paused and you could hear voices in the background. Listening closely you could hear that it was Esme.

“Is that-”

“I’m sorry but I have to go, the hospital is calling.” He rushed out and before you could even say a word the line was clear. 

Pulling your phone away from your ear you could do nothing but stare at it in disbelief. He hung up on you. And not only that but you were completely sure that that was Esme's voice in the background. No one else around her sounds like her. And you know damn well the hospital did not call him. He was lying. Esme was lying. They’re all lying. 

You couldn’t feel anything but disbelief. 

You knew they lied to just about everyone but that was to protect their family. Not everyone in the town could know that they drink animal blood and sparkle in the sun like a fucking case of glitter. But you knew those things already. You’ve seen those things already. So there would be no reason to hide anything from you. At all. 

Finding a new sense of adventure sparling through your veins you put your clothes back on now determined to find some answers. 

Running down the stairs with your bookbag you almost bumped into Charlie. “Woah there kiddo, What's the rush?!” He yelled out to you as you ran past him.

“I’ll be back later, don't worry I just need to see something really quick!” You yelled back getting into your car Carlisle got you for your last birthday. You had told him that was a big mistake. Even though He bought you a car you always felt guilty using it because you didn’t want it to look like you were using him. So you’d always catch a ride with one of them or go with bella. But right now you didn’t care about any of that. 

Pulling up to the Cullens residents It looked deserted. But then again when did it not? Parking your car you walked up to the door which was already being opened by Alice. Once you saw her you immediately frowned. She was supposed to be with Jasper just like Esme was. 

“What are you-”

“You need to go home.” Alice said firmly with her head held high light always.

“What? I don’t understand, why are you here?” You grow your eyebrows in confusion.

“Cleaning. Now go.” She said pointing back to your car.

“Do you see me walking away from this house anytime soon Alice?” You said standing your ground. She wasn’t just about to go and rush you away when you had only just gotten here. Seeing her face you knew the answer. 

You pushed her out of the way gently but made it known that you were going to back down and bow like a little puppy. 

As you walked closer to the heart of the house you heard mumbling and hushed whispers. Finally reaching your destination your eyes widened a little with what you saw. And your heart skipped a couple of beats.

Standing in front of you there was a sign on the wall that read. "We're so sorry’ And the loves of your life were each holding a sign that read ‘I love you because…’

“I know we lied to you but we had too. It was the only way for us to be able to put something together to try and show you the love that we have for you. You came sooner than expected.” Jasper said, looking a little ashamed. Him and his southern accent would always make you smile. Sometimes you wondered if it was just him. Or him using his powers on you. But either way you didn’t care it made you happy.

“Once Alice saw you coming we had to throw something together really fast. We were still brainstorming ideas Roslise didn’t like anything we suggested.” Edward said, shooting Rose a pointed look making you let out a small laugh. That was more like a sigh of relief. 

“It wasn’t enough, all their Ideas sucked. You deserve nothing but the best and I think I'm the only one in this room that understands that.” Rose said in her know it all tone that you loved so much.

“When you said over the phone early that you didn’t feel loved anymore that broke a piece of my heart. I- We never want you to feel that way. We want you to feel like the most loved person in this world. Because you are my love. We would die for you.” Carlisle said taking a step closer to you.

“I’d live for you.” Edward said, taking a step closer to you.

“Fight for you.” Jasper and Emmett said at the same time. Also taking a step closer to you.

“Smile for you.” Rose said, taking her step.

“Care for you.” Esme said taking a step as well.

“We couldn’t imagine a life without you and we're going to prove it to you. Starting today.” Esme said.

“Well more like tomorrow.” Rose said Shrugging her shoulders when everyone looked at her with a look as if to tell her to shut up.

“Rose is right, the full day starts tomorrow but doesn’t mean we can’t start tonight. You’ll have at least 2 hours with each of us until it’s time for us all to gather together. Since tomorrow is saturday.” Carlisle said kissing the top of your forehead, making you smile. Realizing you hadn’t said a word in a while you decided to throw something out there.

“Really?” You whispered but you know they heard you. Perks of being a vampire.

“Yes.” They all said collectively. 

This made you so over filled with joy squealing you kissed all of your lovers with a big wide smile on your face. They of course kissed you back like they always do. Biting your bottom lip in anticipation you looked up at all of them in expectation. Making them all break out with a soft smile. In admiration. 

“So what’s first?” You said basically bouncing up and down in excitement.

“I mean we could take you up to the bedroom right now and start the fun immediately.” Emmett smirked looking you up and down with suggestive eyes. 

“Emmett!” You all said collectively.

“What? What did I say wrong? Don’t tell me you all haven't been thinking the same thing.” 

Tomorrow just couldn’t get here fast enough.

[tieronecrush]

hot & heavy

chapter fourteen: stuck forever by the glue

neighbor!joel x f!reader

series masterlist

series rating: E (18+ MDNI)

series summary:

over the course of three summers, joel miller becomes woven into your life. the first summer is spent falling for him; nannying his daughter and sneaking around with him in a burning love affair. you know how you feel about joel, he isn’t so sure about how it all is gonna work. the second summer is brief. a month spent at home after graduation and before you move to boston for your dream job. one look at you, one time hearing your voice, and joel is hooked again. he pines over you for that month, but you think — how is long distance of over a thousand miles going to work for a single dad? the third summer, you return home burnt out and pride bruised from your post-grad life. you need time to feel at home again, like your complete self, so you’ve come back home with no return ticket booked. it’s only a matter of time before joel seeks you out, slowly spending more time with you. without an inevitable end to the summer looming over you both, what chances are you willing to take?

word count: 7.4k

warnings: NO OUTBREAK (don’t need to worry about the mushies), no use of y/n, inexperienced reader, age gap (joel is 30/31, reader is 22), canon-divergent (sarah is 7 y/o), nanny au, pet names (sweetheart, darling, sweet girl, mariposa, etc.), feeling familial and self-pressure, established relationship, spanish cause joel is latino, soft joel, very minimal like sweetie possessive joel, struggling with self, discussion of parenting, this is honestly just an ooey gooey syrupy sweet chapter y'all

a/n: this is so wild. it's done! (basically....epilogue to come) i seriously can't express how much it means to me that y'all read and kept up with and cared about my little story. i have fallen in love with writing and i just really thank you all for everything you've given me! i feel so lucky to have so many incredible, talented, all-star humans reading something silly i've made. THANK YOU.

and an extra special thanks to el @northernbluess who has been such a big support throughout my process of writing this story. she's beta-read nearly every single chapter and has helped me so much in developing the characters and the story and just everything. can't write without you, el. love you!

alright, enough from me - enjoy joel & mariposa's ending! and please drop any thoughts or scenarios or milestones you want to see for them in the epilogue into my inbox!!!

“Fuck, oh shit, Joel!”

You’re whisper-yelling as you scramble to throw his comforter off of you, kicking it away from your feet and jumping out of bed. One arm moves up to cover your chest as you whirl around the room looking for your clothes. As you slip your panties up your legs and let them snap against your hips, Joel stirs awake enough to pick his head up, glancing around in a daze.

“What is happening? What’s wrong?” he groggily asks, turning over from lying on his tummy to his back, arm bending to rest against his forehead and shielding his eyes from the early summer morning light peeking through the curtains.

Puffing out a breath to blow the hair from your face, hands occupied with attempting to clasp your bra behind your back, you shoot him a look.

“Check the time,” you order flatly, nodding your chin to his alarm clock at the bedside.

After a delayed beat, Joel’s head turns, studying the display before his bed shoots back to look at you, arm dropped from his head. With his eyebrows raised and mouth formed into an ‘O’ shape, he chuckles quietly at your distress.

Amid your activities from the night before, much like the last week of nights spent with Joel, the alarm on his side had forgotten to be set. Normally, you would brush it off, so long as the two of you were up in time for work, which Sarah usually made sure of thanks to her promptness, even as a ten-year-old.

But today, no, today was a weekend and also the day of the neighborhood’s annual block party and summer barbecue. And you had promised — assured — your mother that you would be up and at ‘em early to help her prep all the food she promised to make and to help decorate the street and all the tables.

Joel had promised — assured — that he set the alarm last night before the two of you started fooling around, distraction imminent for the man with his wandering hands and blood pumping. Turns out, you were apparently too tempting, and too exhausting, of a time to focus on anything else.

“Darlin’, it’ll be fine. Doubt your mom has even noticed your absence, she’s probably so busy already she’s just fluttering around your house.” Joel’s face returns to a drowsy expression, one eyebrow quirking up for a moment as you angrily groan at your t-shirt when struggling to find the head hole with it pulled over your head all lopsided.

He rises from the bed, padding over to you and reaching up to pause your frantic hands. Slow moving, he rights the material and gently tugs it down, revealing your frustrating and pouty look.

Joel coaxes your arms out of their stubborn crossed position over your chest, aiding them into the holes and fully pulling the t-shirt down. Fingers graze the top of your panties from underneath your cotton shirt, satisfied smirk when he feels goosebumps rise.

“She may not notice, but my Dad, who’s probably doing nothing, will notice and tell my mom. And she’ll tell him to go downstairs and check on me.” You swat his hands away gently, stepping backward and turning your head this way and that way to find your shorts. “And if he goes downstairs, and I’m not there, but then magically appear minutes later from my studio, well, I think they’ll clock that something’s up.”

Thick arms wrap around your waist, freezing you in place. One hand gently grips the tip of your chin between his index and thumb, tilting your head to look into his eyes.

“It’ll be fine, Mari baby. You’ll get home and you’ll go upstairs and they won’t even know you were gone for a second.” Joel punctuates his reassurances with a kiss, rubbing slow circles in your lower back.

“You are extremely calm in this situation. Why aren’t you more stressed out than me?” you interrogate, raising one brow and pursing your lips. He chuckles and shrugs, incredibly nonchalant, before pecking your lips once more.

“S’cause I woke up with you next to me.” The grin is evident in his next kiss, pulling one from you no matter how much you fight it. “Plus, had some pretty great sex last night.”

“Oh my god, okay, I’m leaving. Such an idiot—” you smack his arm playfully and untangle from his arms, “ruining a perfectly sweet, wholesome moment.”

“Didn’t ruin anything. Y’know you were thinkin’ the same thing,” he counters as he throws on boxers, following you out of the bedroom and down the stairs. 

You glance over your shoulder, shooting him an eye roll while biting back a smile. Padding quickly into the kitchen, you slip your shoes on from where they sit next to the back door, turning toward Joel in a rush as he strides over to you. Still sleepy eyes take you in, grabby hands finding your waist and pulling you in tight to his chest while you groan.

“J, baby, I gotta go.” He buries his head in your neck, shaking it enough for his messy curls to brush against your skin in a tickle. “I’ll see you later, okay? We jus’ have to make it through the party, and then I’m all yours. Deal?”

Lifting his head with an elongated sigh, he nods subtly and sneaks a quick kiss, “Deal. But I kind of don’t want to share you with the whole neighborhood tonight. Wish it was jus’ you and me.”

“Me too, baby, but we’ll survive. We’ve made it this long, haven’t we?” Fingers glide through his hair, pushing it up off his forehead. Before you step back and reach for the door, he pulls you in again, one hand finding your jaw to hold you there as he gives you a slow, syrupy, toe-curling kiss. The linger of it tickles your lips when he pulls away, a drowsy, beaming smile filling his face.

“Love you, Mari baby. See you later.”

“Love you more, J. See y’all later.” One last effort breaks you free of him, slipping out the door with him still on your tail, large palm making contact with your ass in a smack. A look back at him gives you a wink and smirk in return, Joel’s wide frame filling the threshold as you descend his deck stairs and scurry across your lawn to make it home in time.

God, you’re too old to be sneaking around with your boyfriend.

But damn, if he doesn’t make it fun.

Late afternoon, when the sticky, humid air has cooled down only fractions from the peak of the day, the whole onslaught of the neighborhood gathers on your cul-de-sac. Lawn games litter front yards of everyone around, the food tables set up between your driveway and Joel’s. Two grills are lit and manned on the asphalt in front of your garage, barely enough space to cook all the food that could feed an entire army, plus all of your neighbors.

The skirt of your baby blue sundress swishes against your thighs as you flutter around the folding tables set out to frame the street. Borrowed, mismatched tablecloths have been blanketed over the surfaces, and it’s been your latest task to arrange simple centerpieces of wildflowers from your garden beds built by Joel, and vases pulled from the backs of cabinets in your house. With every inch of your movement, your eyes flicker to track Joel’s, licking your lips as you watch the fabric of his muted blue t-shirt pull and strain across his shoulder blades. The hair at the back of his neck curled more from the perspiration that he was building while carrying coolers full of ice, beer, sodas, and water all about the street.

While putting the finishing touches on the last centerpiece, it seems that when you look up again, the whole neighborhood has shown up all at once. Joel’s gone from your line of sight, and you resign to finding the nearest cold beer and being pulled into a conversation with Mrs. Clarke and some of her book club ladies from the street over that you don’t know as well. They fuss over you, admiring your dress and your hair, and commenting repeatedly about ‘how gorgeous and youthful’ you are. As you open your mouth to accept the compliments again with a polite ‘thank you’, a familiar voice cuts in from over your shoulder.

“Excuse me, ladies, I hate to interrupt y’all but I was hoping to steal her away for a bit. Kind of need a partner for some cornhole and we’ve got a winning streak to maintain.” Joel shoots all of the older women a charming grin when you turn to your side to see him, his eyes finding yours for a split second.

“Oh, god, another one of you youngin’ neighbors! I have been loving to see so many new folks move in and all you kids that have returned. It is so lovely,” Mrs. Clarke shares, nodding her head with a mischievous grin toward Joel, “Y’know, y’all are pretty handsome together. Maybe it’s just 'cause y’all are young and beautiful still!”

Mrs. Clarke and the other women laugh, a wide smile on your face as you shake your head, “C’mon, Mrs. Clarke, you’re beautiful — Joel’s actually been tellin’ me he’s got a crush on a neighbor, my bets are on you.”

She laughs again, waving off the compliments, “Well I wouldn’t go gambling if that’s how you bet, sugar. I think you’d be at the top of all the lists if you ask everyone here; you’ve been the talk of the neighborhood since you came back from that big ol’ city you were in. Everybody’s been saying how you are still such a sweet girl, but I can tell something’s different. In a good way.”

She shoots you a wink and you soak in the sentiments, looking over to Joel when he cuts in again.

“I think I’d agree with ya, ma’am. Definitely different in a good way. Like whiskey in a teacup.” The look in his eyes is filled with the silent affection that his words coil around, saying all that he can’t say at the moment. Instead, he wraps up the conversation for you, thanking the four women before letting you step ahead of him, his hand barely ghosting over your back in what would look to be an innocent gesture.

“Now did you really want to play bags or was that just an excuse?” you tease, taking a sip of your drink while you two wander over to the game set up in the grass.

Joel shrugs, smile toying at his lips, “Had to be able to find a way to sweet talk my crush now, didn’t I?”

A roll of your eyes and growing smirk encourages him, nudging your side with his elbow, “Y’think Mrs. Clarke is gonna go around gossipin’ about us when the whole neighborhood finds out I’ve got a crush on you and not her?”

“Oh definitely. Lived here my whole life, that woman knows everybody’s business before they know it themselves. Don’t be surprised if she’s told everybody you’re in love with me by the time this evening’s wrappin’ up.” Squatting down, Joel gathers up the bean bags from the surface of the handbuilt gameboards, handing you the green while he takes the yellow.

As he deposits them one by one in your open palm, he shoots you a genuine, shy smile. “Well, wouldn’t be a lie so I guess it would jus’ help me out. Maybe we should tell Mrs. Clarke and then everybody will know tonight.”

“Haha. Very funny, Miller,” you reply dryly, shooting him a playfully annoyed look before starting the game between the two of you.

The back-and-forth flows easily for the two of you, both in gameplay and banter. At the game-point throw, you sink it in the hole, cheering for yourself when you nail the score of exactly twenty-one. Joel tosses his own, flicking his wrist only slightly at the last moment to scratch the throw, leaving you victorious. He smiles to himself as he watches you eagerly clap for yourself, turning to him and nodding toward the spread of food that was finally laid out.

You’re so beautiful.

The look you’re giving him sends a jolt into his spine, fuzzing his brain while the butterfly in his chest rapidly pumps its wings.

“C’mon, let's eat. All that losin’ probably worked up an appetite for you.” Without clasping around his, your hand brushes your fingers against the back of his palm. The softness leaves an itch on his skin, his nerves simply jumping for the chance to touch you. You lead confidently while he trails behind in your wake, observing as everyone sends you a smile or a greeting that you return right back with a glow.

He’d follow you anywhere.

And he knows how damn lucky he is that you’re willing to let him.

It’s what he can’t help but continue to think about as the night rolls on, watching you from his place at a table with a handful of the guys from the neighborhood, including your dad and brother, and Tommy, who stopped over after his own plans for the evening went belly up. While he nurses the beer from the glass bottle in his hand, you are bouncing with a baby on your hip to the beat of the song playing over the speakers. It’s the kid you nanny, having taken her from her parents to let them eat and enjoy a moment of calmness with everyone while you keep the young one entertained.

The happy baby babbles in your arms as you dance with her subtly, standing in a small group of other neighbors. It’s so natural for you, the way you’re nurturing and easily adapting to having a little human attached to your side. He can’t shake the way his body is begging him to get up and go over to you, wanting to help you, to play pretend for a moment that it’s an addition to your little family in your arms.

He nearly stumbles over himself to get out of his seat when Sarah pulls you away from the group, thanking his daughter inside his head for giving him the perfect excuse to be close to you in the moment. Tommy chuckles to himself when he follows where Joel’s gaze is aimed, shaking his head subtly at his older brother’s obvious stare.

Joel doesn’t pay him any mind as he walks over toward you and Sarah, brushing against your side as he folds forward at his waist to press a kiss to the top of his daughter’s curly hair. The baby is babbling again in your arms, wiggling and mouthing on her hand while she stares at Joel. He shoots her a smile, opening and closing his fingers in a loose fist to wave.

“Hey there, little one. Now who’s this?” he asks, eyes finding your face while you grin at the happy baby girl in your arms.

“This is Amelia. She’s Brian and Steph’s daughter, the one I’ve been nannying this summer since Steph’s gone back to work,” you adjust her again and Joel nods, reaching out absentmindedly to lay a hand on Sarah’s head.

“Isn’t she so cute, Daddy?” Sarah laughs quietly when Amelia squeals excitedly. Her hand tugs on Joel’s shirt to grab his attention back from staring at you, eyebrows raised, and the same look on her face that she gets when she desperately wants a toy from the store. “I want to get a baby!”

He nearly chokes on his breath when he rushes to respond, hearing your quiet giggle as he coughs before clearing his throat. Addressing Sarah, he gives her an understanding smile, “Babies are pretty cute, aren’t they? But you’ll need to be much, much older until you can get a baby, mija. Like you’ll need to be Posey’s age or even better, you can be Daddy’s age and get a baby for yourself, alright?”

“That’s not very fun. You’re old, I don’t wanna wait that long. It’s like an eternity,” she replies bluntly, causing you to laugh and Joel to shoot you a warning look before he returns to Sarah.

“Trust me, Bug, it’s not that long in the grand scheme of things. Before I know it, you’ll be out of my house and I’ll be even more ancient, apparently, and you’ll have your own babies. All in due time, mija. Don’t wish away your life.” He pats her curls while she stands, thought clearly turning in her head.

A lightbulb goes off and she gasps, clapping her hands together as she says only to the two of you, “I know! You can get another baby, Daddy, and then I’ll have a cute one to play with. You can get one with Posey.”

Sarah beams with what seems like a completely genius idea to her, waiting for a response or a plan of action to get this all set in motion for her. You laugh again, stepping in when Joel can’t seem to find the right words to say.

He doesn’t want to outwardly deny it. Definitely doesn’t want you to think that is something he wouldn’t want. He’s told you as much.

But he also doesn’t want to step in any hot water, doesn’t want to put his foot in his mouth if it really is something you haven’t thought about much.

“That is such a smart idea, Sare-Bear,” you grin comfortingly and reach out a free hand to brush her hair back, “Y’know who else you could ask to have a baby? Uncle Tommy. Why don’t you go ask him why he doesn’t have a girlfriend so that he can give you a cousin?”

Sarah giggles and matches your mischievous energy, scampering off to go wholesomely harass her uncle. You turn to Joel, your face twisting into curiosity when you can’t read the look on his face.

“What? Should I have explained where babies come from to her or something instead? Was it a bad idea to sick her on Tommy?”

“No, not at all. To answer both your questions,” he bites back from absolutely beaming, turning his gaze to baby Amelia’s chubby cheeks when his voice drops to a level only audible to you standing inches from him, “Would you?”

“Would I what?” Your head tilts to the side, adjusting Amelia on your hip and hiking her up. Joel opens his mouth to clarify his question when Steph sidles up next to you, thanking you profusely while she takes her daughter back into her arms. The interaction warms Joel’s blood in his veins, the wings of the butterfly pushing the rattle of nerves into his throat.

Everyone loves you so much here, and you really do have love for everyone.

A fucking solid gold heart inside of you and Joel can’t believe you’ve given even a piece, a sliver, of it to him to safeguard.

Turning your attention back to him when the two of you are left alone, you lift the corner of your lip up in an anxious comfort, “So, would I what?”

“Would you have a kid? With me. Would you have a kid with me?” It all rushes out, words blending together but you understand all the same. A quiet laugh rolls from your chest, skyrocketing his worry in the moment before you shake your head and give his bicep a quick, but reassuring squeeze.

“Course I would, J. Don’t think anything would make me happier.” Your eyes sparkle in the setting sunlight, the solid and steady beat of his heart surely heard over the music and noise by everyone around you both. Pressing his lips together to restrain himself, he nods slowly and attempts to remain casual.

“I wanna kiss you so fucking much right now, Mari.”

“I want that, too. But I think Mrs. Clarke would be jealous. Stealin’ you away from her.” The joke breaks the tension, sending him into a small fit of laughter, shaking his head at your ridiculousness.

“Guess I better go ask Mrs. Clarke the same question then, huh? Keep my options open.”

“Better go. Give her enough time to tell Mr. Clarke she’s running away with the neighbor forty years younger than her.”

“Definitely think that’d go over better than you, the beloved, sweet neighborhood girl, running away with me.”

“Oh hush, doesn’t matter how well it’d go over. Jus’ matters if we can run fast enough away from the angry mob that’s gonna come after ya.” You wink and laugh again, your head shaking back and forth before it whips in the direction of your mom calling your name. Another soft and subtle touch is fleetingly felt against his skin, turning over your shoulder to mouth a quick ‘love you’ to him as you walk away.

He returns it before searching around to fill his hands before returning back to the table and sitting down next to his brother. Joel sets the full beer bottle next to his half-full one, eyes still trained on you before Tommy grabs his attention with a hard jab to his side and snags the full beer.

“So why the hell is my niece asking me when I’m gonna get a girlfriend so I can have a baby?”

Night has overtaken the sky, with sprinklings of stars and a waxing moon as its centerpieces. Everyone along the road has turned on their porch lights, extra portable camping lights, and hanging lanterns brought out to make enough light to continue the party. The handful of neighborhood kids run around to catch fireflies while the adults either stand around in conversations or gather in the open space between all of the tables to dance. Your parents, ever the hosts that they are, have popped back into the house to gather more drinks and desserts for everyone. Wrapped up in a chat about a potential hire for a job with a guy from a few streets over, Joel hasn’t paid mind to where you’re at or if Sarah’s running along with the other kids. He shakes the man’s hand and promises to stop by when he can during the week to check out exactly what the job would entail and if his guys can get it done.

Turning away, the sight of you is perfectly framed by warm lights, a tunnel of everything else fading away while he observes you from across the street. The mop of curls he loves dearly bounces around with you, your hands holding Sarah’s and spinning her around the dancefloor. His daughter’s laughter hits his ears over the sound of the music, tugging a smile onto his face that nearly matches your beaming grin.

This whole night, he hasn’t been able to stay away from you long. And he hasn’t been able to shake the feeling of how desperate he is to stay in your pull, to be able to make you smile and laugh, to make you happy.

You do so much for others, offering a hand or making them smile with your genuine care and humor. Everyone is so drawn to you, he’s not the only one who wants to have you around. And he knows about what you’re going through behind closed doors, the things you tell him about when no one else will listen or understand. The same things he heard from you when you were thousands of miles away, voice crackling over the phone. All he wants to do is to be there for you, to show you the same kindness that you show him, that you show everyone you encounter.

Ever since he met you, he’s never wanted to be apart from you. But he didn’t trust himself not to make selfish decisions, so he pushed you away that first summer, and let you go the second. Now, with no endings in sight at the end of summer, anything is possible.

One thing’s for sure though — he’s tired of hiding.

All it does is take up more energy that he could be giving to you, to Sarah, to a better future for all of you.

And fuck’s sake, if he doesn’t want everyone to know that you chose him. The best person he knows — has ever known — chose him and continues to choose him, to forgive him, to love him. He doesn’t know what the future holds, doesn’t know what everything will look like for y’all in a week, in a year, in a decade, but all he can say is that whatever it all entails, however much it scares him, he wants you there by his side. He needs you.

Without a second thought, he moves toward you as the song changes, depositing his nearly empty drink on the nearest table. Swiping his clammy hands on his jeans as he walks, he takes a deep breath before he taps you on the shoulder. He shoots Sarah a wink over your shoulder while you turn around, her giggle bringing a lopsided grin to his face.

“Oh, Joel, what’s up?” you ask casually, cocking an eyebrow up in confusion.

He addresses Sarah in the next moment, putting on a formal tone and clearing his throat, “Excuse me, Miss Sarah, but would you mind if I steal Mariposa away for a dance?”

“Of course not, Daddy!” she grins widely, showing off her missing tooth that came out a few nights ago, “Have fun, Posey!”

Sarah scurries off to find her friends from the neighborhood, and Joel holds his hand out with a soft smirk. Utterly puzzled, you glance around before focusing back on Joel at the sound of his voice.

“May I have this dance, Mari?”

You’re surprised, stumbling out a response as you tentatively place your hand in his, “Yes, I mean — yes, but — What are you doing, J?”

With your hand in his, he leads you further into the couples dancing along to the sweetly slow love song playing. In the middle, he stops and faces you, keeping your hand in his, holding them up close with a bent elbow while his other finds your waist and pulls you in closer. The two of you start to sway and Joel’s lips settle next to your ear while you dance.

“Joel, everyone’s staring…and talking amongst themselves. What are you doing?” you ask in a hushed voice, pulling away to look into his eyes. Anxiety flashes in yours and he gives your hand a gentle squeeze before replying.

“M’letting go, mi amor. Let ‘em stare,” he replies, the corners of his lips rising in a tender grin. He slips his hand from yours, fingers trailing down your arm to bring it to rest on his shoulder like your other one. Both of his hands spread across your hips, pressing into the fabric of your dress and pushing around to settle at your lower back.

“But they’re gonna start spreading shit and I know you weren’t ready before to tell anyone else — my parents might be around, J. I don’t want you to do this if you aren’t ready, or if you’re just doing this for me.”

He leans closer, tilting his head down to lay his forehead against yours. Holding your eyes, he speaks quietly, voice rasping with the strain of the volume and the emotion coating his words, “El amor es ciego, pero los vecinos no. (Love is blind, but the neighbors aren’t.) There’s always going to be people to gossip, or to whisper about us. All that matters to me is what you think, and how you feel. I want to be able to tell everyone that you’re mine, and I’m yours. I’m so lucky, and I am so proud to be your partner in life, Mari baby. M’tired of trying to predict what the future’s gonna be for us, and m’tired of trying to keep the reality of life away from us. Truth is, I don’t think there’s anything that life could throw at me or you that we couldn’t get through together. I need you there, always, sweet girl. Todo va a salir bien. Everything will work out.”

“I-God, I don’t even know what to say…” Tears well at your waterline, none daring to fall over the edge while you attempt to remain composed for the crowd that is surely watching everything happening. “All I can think about is how much I love you, Joel. And I want all of the same things, and I know that with you, we can handle whatever life has planned for us.”

“I love you too, baby. Te amo siempre, mi Mariposa. (I love you always, my Mariposa).”

The song’s last few notes fade out, some of the couples filtering out of the dance floor when the music changes over. After another short peck from Joel, the bubble the two of you were in dissolves when Sarah runs up, asking Joel if she can have another cookie. He gives her the quick go-ahead, watching her rush off as quickly as she came, and suddenly you’re reminded you’re in the middle of the whole neighborhood.

No one says anything as you lead Joel away, hand-in-hand. But a few looks are exchanged and the eyes of everyone feel hot on your neck. A glance around proves your parents aren’t outside still, and your stomach flips with the real possibility that someone, particularly nosey neighbors, may have beaten you to the punch in terms of telling them about you and Joel.

Tugging him from a good few steps ahead, Joel widens his strides to catch up easily as you beeline toward your garage, the mechanical door wide open for people to come and go as needed. You stop in your tracks right in front of the door to the inside, taking a deep breath before turning around to face Joel.

“Alright, it’s now or never, J. Either we’re the ones to tell our parents, or they find out from Mrs. Clarke’s book club that we were on the dancefloor and kissin’ each other and—”

Joel interrupts your ramblings with a gentle chuckle, tilting his head to the side as he looks over your face before locking his eyes with yours.

“So are we the ones meant to be saying we were on the dancefloor and kissin’ each other?” he asks with a smirk, one eyebrow raising in question.

“Oh, c’mon, Joel.”

“M’kiddin’, Mari. It’s now or never, and I am not a man that says never. So lead the way, sweet girl.” He gestures to the door behind you, a genuine smile on his face quelling your heightened nerves.

If you could read his mind, you know he’s freaking out right now.

But no, instead he’s keeping it cool on the outside, trying to be a calming presence for your own anxious thoughts.

Can’t help but ask himself questions. What if your parents get upset or angry? What if they dismiss it, not believing that it would ever work between the two of them? What if they take it out on you? It’s not your fault that they didn’t find out earlier — would they hate him if he defends you in an argument? What if they don’t think he is good enough for you?

He has his own doubts, but hearing it from your parents would crush him.

You walk ahead of him, holding onto his hand while you walk inside and through your empty living room. He drops his hand from yours right on the threshold of your kitchen and gives you a tight smile when you look back at him. Wiping his clammy hands on his jeans, he takes a deep breath before following you into the room.

Clearing your throat to grab your parents' attention, you saddle up to the island and lean forward with your elbows on the cool countertops. Joel stands next to you, a respectable distance away but you feel the itch to bring him closer. Your dad turns around first, pausing his task of filling a cooler with ice from the freezer.

“Hey there, kiddo. Oh, and heya, Miller! Y’all havin’ a good time tonight? Need anything?”

“Or are y’all bein’ sweethearts and have come inside to help us with all this?” Your mom nods over her shoulder to the rest of the desserts plated across the counters.

She turns around next after washing her hands at the kitchen sink, patting them dry with a towel before she crosses the small walkway to settle on the other side of the island. Joel shakes his head when you’re silent for a moment, giving both of your parents a smile.

“No, don’t need anything. And I would be happy to help, ma’am—” Joel ever so politely offers before you interrupt him.

“I, uh, I actually wanted to talk to y’all about something.” Your voice wavers only slightly, a stuttering sound coming from your throat as you clear it again. One of your mom’s eyebrows raises in curiosity, much more sprawling thoughts happening in the subtle twitches of her eyes as she looks at your face, then at Joel’s, and back to you.

Your dad is a bit oblivious.

“Joel and I will leave ya to it, y’all can fill me in later,” he faces Joel, nodding toward the direction of the door and closing the top of the cooler he packed full of ice a minute ago. Joel opens his mouth to respond when you fill in again quickly, holding a hand up to stop your dad’s movements.

“No, um, actually, it’s better if you’re both here and Joel’s here ‘cause, well…” A flip of your stomach nearly sends your dinner back up, but you swallow it down and lock your eyes on your hands as you finally spill the secret you’ve kept for the last three summers.

“Joel and I are together. Like in a relationship. A serious one.” You kept adding clarifications to fill the silence that’s fallen over the room, and Joel steps closer, reaching a hand up to rest on your back between your shoulder blades. He braces for ridicule, eyes trained on you as you keep yours on your hands.

Nothing. Your parents are saying nothing.

And you cannot take the silence anymore, so you begin to recount it all from the first summer, meeting him and getting to know him — sparing the details of the two of you…getting together. The short month-long second summer, Joel holding out his hope for you to stay but eventually letting you go. The year between that time and the beginning of this summer, infrequent phone calls and life updates. And finally, this summer, when you came back with no end in sight and nothing holding the two of you back. Given the chance to finally give it a proper go, and falling even more in love with him than you thought you could love anyone.

Your eyes flick to Joel’s as you confess that, and he returns the sentiment with a warm smile and his hand rubbing slow circles against the bare skin of your back exposed by your thinly-strapped dress. 

God, you really do love him.

So much so, it occurs to you that it doesn’t really matter what comes after this. You choose him, and he’s chosen you, and your family would have to accept it. You’ve spent too much time without him in your life, completely, and there isn’t going to be another summer ending in heartbreak.

At the end of your three-summer abridged summary, Joel turns toward your parents, speaking up for himself. “I just—I want to tell you both that I care very much about your daughter. I love her dearly, and my life’s gotten astronomically better since she stepped into it. Mine and Sarah’s. You’ve raised an incredible woman, someone who is kind but never lets anyone push her around. A complete force.” Joel turns back to you, a growing, shy smile tugging at the corners of his lips, “I can only hope that Sarah gets the same fierceness and is as self-willed as you. I’ve said it before, but you’ve got a golden heart. You’re magic.”

The four of you talk it through, fielding their questions and small concerns as best as you can to reassure them. They share a look before your mom speaks, taking a deep breath that lifts and drops her shoulders.

“We can’t say that it’s not going to be an adjustment. I mean, dropping this all on us after not telling us for so long is a lot to process—”

“Of course, of course. I should’ve said something earlier, I’m sorry.”

“No, no. Don’t apologize. I just…Did you feel like you couldn’t talk to us about it or something, sweetie?” There’s a thickness in your mom’s voice, one that makes your chest ache.

“Oh, mom, no. It wasn’t like that, I—”

“I was the nervous one. I asked for more time before we told you this summer. I know how extraordinary your daughter is; she is definitely too good for me, and I was real nervous that you wouldn’t approve. I mean, I definitely have a different life than probably what you pictured. But I want to promise you both that I am proving myself every day to her. I always want to be better.”

To your surprise, your dad cuts in before you or your mom can say anything.

“You’re right. Our daughter is extraordinary…” He paused, continuing, “But you’re a good man, Joel. Trustworthy, dependable, respectful. And you very clearly love our daughter. There’s nothing more I could ask of someone for her. So long as she has a good, happy life, I’m content.”

Joel exchanges a relieved smile with your dad, your focus on your mom again as one arm snakes around Joel’s back to hold you closer.

“Your dad said it. If you’re happy, honey, then we’re happy…” She studies the two of you with tender care in her eyes, holding her hands to her chest before releasing them with a content sigh. “And I mean, I knew.”

Immediately, your brow furrows with confusion and Joel laughs, holding it back when you shoot him a warning look. Returning to your mom, you raise a question in response, “I’m sorry, you knew? How did you know?”

“Well, nothing was ever confirmed. But I did mention to your father quite a few times how I caught you sneaking glances and smiles toward Joel.” She directs the next question to your dad, whose focus has been lost on the plate of desserts in front of him, “And, how often did I mention to you catching Joel looking at her like all of the sunlight was radiating from her? Like he was completely head over heels.”

“Oh, all the time,” your dad answers nonchalantly. You laugh, shaking your head in disbelief, Joel’s laughter bubbling over while he tugs you into his side and presses a kiss to the top of your head.

“To be honest, I thought maybe he was just in love with you and you were either oblivious or waiting for him to say something. Glad to hear that I was right!” she jests, laughing to herself and exhaling dramatically.

“So does this mean I can get my renovations done with a discount?” Your dad tilts his head up to look directly at Joel who holds a hand up in oath.

“Free labor from me always, sir. Can’t promise the discount for Tommy’s help, though.”

“Oh god, Dad, seriously?” you groan, rolling your head back while Joel looks on with a smile.

‘What? What’s wrong with asking that, kiddo?” Once again oblivious, your mom waves him off to drag the cooler of drinks outside. When he’s gone from the kitchen, she rounds the island, beaming with a grin.

“Well, I just can’t wait to already live next to my grandbabies! Don’t even need to move to be any closer, unless we move in with y’all into somewhere bigger—”

“Alright, Mom, I think the party’s probably missin’ these desserts, yeah?” You usher her by handing her a tray. She gives you a motherly eye roll before resigning her thoughts and taking the plate.

“Fine, fine, I’m going!” She shuffles in her sandals before glancing back at the edge of the threshold, “We really are happy for y’all.”

“Thanks, Mom.”

“Thank you, ma’am.”

“Oh, Joel, c’mon. You’re part of the family now, call me Jen. And you can call her dad Mark, even if he gives you shit for it, he’s just trying to make you nervous. And then tell me, I’ll give him shit right back.”

At the click of the door shutting behind your parents, you face him and grin ecstatically, clasping your hands together. Joel’s shoulders relax with a sigh and your arms hook around his neck. He scoops you up in a hug, laughing when you shriek excitedly. Spinning the two of you around in a small circle, he settles still again, eyes locking with yours as a wide smile replaces his once apprehensive expression.

Joel nudges your nose with his, slow, warm breaths exchanged in the closeness before he kisses you. Slow, delicate, light melting into fervor — hot and heavy with all your love for each other.

Breathless, you pull away and he chases your lips for a chaste kiss, pressing his forehead against yours while you both start to laugh quietly.

“What a summer, huh?” you ask, another fit of laughter leaving your mouth.

“Definitely was a fun summer, sweetheart. And the last two, too.” Joel shakes his head, thumb brushing your cheek as he grins back at you, “Can’t wait to have all my summers with you, Mariposa.”

An ache is felt in your cheeks from smiling, but the dull pain pales in comparison to the all-over lightness; adrenaline and excitement make you feel as if you’re buzzing head to toe. Stealing another kiss from Joel, you feel him grin against your lips. Breathy chuckles fill the space between you when you pull away, tilting your head back in his hand to see more of his face.

“Wanna dance, J?”

“With you? Anytime, Mari baby. Lead the way.” He nods toward the door, taking your hand and following you closely as you head back to the party. Coming back out, all the eyes and whispers aren’t feeling like heat against your skin, instead the warmth of Joel’s palm grounds you and sends a shiver down your spine. He takes the lead in the moment, stepping ahead when you falter for a second and pulling you to the middle of the asphalt-turned-dancefloor.

The ever-so-familiar piano trills, along with the bright, smooth voice of Don McLean start to play out on the speakers, bringing wide smiles to both of your faces. As the beat picks up, Joel starts singing along, taking your hands from his shoulders and spinning you around as if you were swing dancing.

Both of you were clumsy, tripping over each other, but your laughter only brought brilliant, broad grins to your faces. The rest of the party fell away — it was only you and Joel, and all the memories that this song brought back.

The skirt of your dress kicks up as he spins you around and around, pulling you into his chest and swaying with you for the entire song, his deep and drawling voice singing along to the lyrics and sending goosebumps spreading across your skin despite the humid, sticky heat of the night. His steps slow down at the end, turning you both in one final, exaggerated circle before settling on the last note.

Joel looks down at you, adoration glinting in his eyes and his dimple showing as his mouth holds his smile. One of your hands slips away from his, reaching up to skim your fingers along his patchy beard and rest at the side of his neck. With another song turning over on the speakers, Joel leans down and catches your lips in a supple kiss. It’s slow and saccharine, savoring the taste of you on his tongue before he pulls away, waiting with bated breath.

 You break the moment with a sweet, melodic laugh and a shake of your head. 

“Of course, that song came on. Did you plan all this, Miller?” you interrogate playfully, the world still tunneled between the two of you.

“Absolutely not. But pretty serendipitous, yeah? Guess we should take that as a sign. Right person, right time. Finally.” His response gives you another laugh, nodding before going in for another short kiss.

“Yeah, think it’s safe to say it's the right time, finally. Was always the right person.”

“You can say that again, Mari baby.”

taglist: @beskarandblasters @undrthelights @swiftispunk @joelsversion @asirenbyanyothername @ellenmunn @ja-ehyun @sw33tp1xie @marisemonteiroo @brunetteeras @bongsrconfusing @addictedtotlou @angie2274 @pedrostories @pedroholic @theelishad @johnwatsn @elissa @felicityofbakerstreet @atinylittlepain @northernbluess @cannolighost @casa-boiardi @wannab-urs @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @fishingforpike @msjarvis @walkintotheriveranddisappear @sugadolly @yazsos @peppesgirl @pastawench @anoverwhelmingdin @wolfbook87 @mswarriorbabe80 @planet-marz1 @kiwisbell @lizzie-cakes

[1d1195]

Committed Extra II

Read the rest here: Committed

Based on this ask

I always suggest listening to this TikTok while reading this series but I think they remind me SO much of Home by Edward Sharpe & The Magnetic Zeros.

Warnings: 18+, smut, maybe a little more romantic-smut than smut-smut but anyways. Please ignore any continuity errors from previous parts. I couldn't find what I was looking for but it doesn't mean they don't exist. not suitable for Ramadan

~3.2k words

Harry had seen her in a bathing suit. He had seen her in skirts that were not suitable for school and a dress that showed off so much of her cleavage he wondered why she didn't just wear a bra instead. The idea of seeing her fully naked was far beyond what he could possibly imagine. It was every one of his fantasies and more.

Harry had no way of getting his hands on her beautiful mind and soul. So he was going to devour her body instead.

Sarah was going to Mitch’s, which meant her place was empty.

Harry didn’t have any clothes or anything, but he didn’t care. There were leftover items between himself and Mitch so as long as they didn’t have to attend a wedding there was an outfit for him the next day.

The car ride was silent. Unless he heard her heartbeat, which was extremely plausible because it was beating so hard. He held her hand, like he had ten thousand times before, but now it was different. Because Harry loved her. Like really loved her. The way she always dreamed of him loving her. Every time she remembered he loved her she squeezed his hand. It brought a smile to his face, and she swore the needle of the speedometer crept up another increment just to get them home faster.

The logistics of the night hadn’t dawned on her until they were in her apartment living room. Silent as Harry locked the door behind him. Nerves started to swim in her bloodstream. They had incredible chemistry, their friendship was solid, she had seen Harry at his worst—sick with the stomach bug that required a complete change of clothes, and he had seen her sweaty and covered with dirt after helping her dad in the backyard.

If the sex was bad, what would it say about their relationship?

It couldn’t be bad, right? She had waited so long to have Harry in her life in this capacity. Friendship was their opener. Saying I love you was the main setlist. Sex was just the encore. It would be fine.

Right?!

“Are y’okay, kitten?” He asked.

“Hmm?”

“You’re ‘bout t’squeeze m’fingers off m’hand,” she released the death grip she had on it. “Tell me,” he ordered, but his voice was soft.

“I’m so nervous.”

“Nervous?” He repeated.

“What if the sex is bad?”

He chuckled. “I highly doubt it will be bad,” he pulled her close, trapping her against his body, cupping the side of her face and kissing her as if he had kissed her in the very spot a thousand times before. “But m’not with you for the sex.”

“Well, I don’t know what you were up to while I was gone but I haven’t had sex in a year and a half so I would like it to be good,” she murmured.

His eyes scanned her face, searching for something. “Y’think I had sex with someone else while y’were gone?” He asked.

She rolled. “That’s what you took away from that?”

“Who did you sleep with a year and a half ago?” He asked ignoring her follow-up question.

“It’s none of your business!”

“Your body s’all mine now,” he said simply. But it set her skin aflame and her heart into a frantic beat that had her worrying she would need an ambulance on standby outside the building. “S’very much m’business,” he murmured.

“Harry,” she sighed pinching the bridge of her nose. “That guy I went out with for like a month?”

“You slept with him?”

“We went out for a month, Harry.”

“But he was awful.”

“You thought everyone I dated was awful.”

“They were,” he said petulantly. She sighed.

“When did you last have sex?” She asked.

“I don’t know, three years ago?” It should have been embarrassing. But it wasn’t. This was his best friend and he didn’t care.

She rolled her eyes. “Yeah right,” she snorted. “No really, I told you. You have to tell me.”

“M’not kidding kitten,” his voice was firm.

“You haven’t had sex in three years?” She still sounded incredulous, and Harry just stared at her waiting for it to click. Her lips parted. “How...why...?”

“When I realized I was in love with y’kitten,” he shrugged. “Didn’t want t’have sex.”

“So you were just going to...never have sex again?”

He shrugged again. “I hadn’t thought ‘bout it t’be honest.”

It was so quiet in the apartment, not even her rapid heartbeat made a sound. “What if it’s bad? What if I’m bad at it? What if it’s not—”

“Kitten,” he sighed and shook his head. “We were terrible at French, and we took three years of it together. We’ll practice. M’not in love with y’because of sex. Obviously—loved y’before sex was an option. M’in love with you because you’re m’favorite person. M’only person,” he reminded her. “I don’t care about sex.”

It should have relieved her but it didn’t. “I want it to be good,” she whispered.

“I do too, kitten. Trust me. But s’not the end all be all.”

Quiet, surrounded them again. “C’mon,” he hummed and tugged her toward the bedroom. “Jus’ say stop if y’need a minute,” he pulled her jacket off her shoulders and bent to slip her shoes off. She felt like Cinderella. He was so gentle and while she was slightly terrified it would suck and he would realize he hated her, it was normal. Harry getting ready to undress her was normal feeling. It was warm, gentle, and all things that were Harry. She felt safe and maybe finally she realized he was probably right. Sex wouldn’t be bad. “We don’t have t’do this tonight either, kitten.”

“No way, you’ve been waiting three years and I think my vibrator is dead so it’s going to have to work,” she explained.

He groaned quietly, began kissing the length of her neck and making the noise vibrate her skin and veins in a way that nearly made her knees give out. “Well, charge it, because I have t’see that,” his breath was hot on her skin making her dizzy.

They stood and kissed for at least three minutes, her hands tugging at the hair on the back of his head silently begging for him to get closer. It was so quiet in her room she was starting to feel uneasy. “Can we put on some music or something?” She whispered.

“Turn on your radio?” He suggested kissing the curve of her neck and shoulder, taking the collar of her shirt away from her neck.

She shook her head. “I downloaded your music onto a CD, and I love you, but I think fucking to the sound of you and our friends would be a little too much for me.”

He chuckled against her skin forgoing the kisses and pulled his phone from his pocket and set up a random playlist.

Harry’s mouth found hers again and he gently guided her back onto her bed. His fingers started to push her shirt up her torso. She pulled away from his mouth and stilled his hands. “What are you doing?” She asked quickly. He chuckled.

“Trying t’take your shirt off. Do y’want t’stop?”

She shook her head trying to shake the nerves away. “Sorry,” her cheeks reddened.

“S’okay,” he assured her. “S’new, s’gonna be a little weird probably,” he amended.

She swallowed. “I don’t really like my body,” she whispered. “I don’t really talk about that with you...” she reminded him.

She was wrong. She was so beautiful and in Harry’s eyes there wasn’t any reason for her to feel ashamed or insecure about her body. It was perfect, exactly as she was. “You’re beautiful,” he murmured. “M’gonna make y’feel beautiful or we’re never having sex again,” he chuckled.

She giggled despite herself and nodded. “Okay, if you’re sure.”

“M’sure,” he nodded firmly. “M’gonna take m’shirt off first, then.”

“No, don’t do that, that’s not fair,” she stopped his hands before he could tug it over his head. “I can’t take my shirt off after yours.”

He laughed a little louder this time and he kissed her sweetly, pecking at her lips over and over as he pulled away. “We can’t do this without being naked, kitten.”

She took a deep breath, sighed, and pulled her shirt over her head.

Harry had seen her in a bathing suit. He had seen her in skirts that were not suitable for school and a dress that showed off so much of her cleavage he wondered why she didn't just wear a bra instead. The idea of seeing her fully naked was far beyond what he could possibly imagine. It was every one of his fantasies and more.

Harry had no way of getting his hands on her beautiful mind and soul. So, he was going to devour her body instead.

His gaze scanned her upper half for a few moments admiring the tiny little bow on the center of her bra right between her breasts. He kissed the swell of each one every so slightly spilling out of the cup. Her breath caught in her throat and Harry kissed upwards, bringing his lips back to hers and he pulled off his own shirt without any fanfare. Harry often walked around without a shirt, when at the pool or a beach he obviously didn’t wear a shirt. This she was used to. Her hands roamed his body and his skin felt so warm and so nice she couldn’t believe she thought this could be bad.

Harry couldn’t get her zipper down.

She giggled and Harry snorted. “Didn’t know y’were gonna wear a chastity belt, kitten.”

The clasp of her bracelet somehow managed to catch on to the fabric of his boxers a few moments later. “Jesus,” she sighed and brought her face so close to the fabric to work it free Harry turned a bright shade of red, cleared his throat and she realized her hand was resting on his dick to get it undone.

“Oops,” she whispered and pulled back. Harry chuckled softly. Every awkward moment was completed with more kisses that by the time Harry finished struggling with the clasp of her bra, (“I’ve never seen a bra with a snap like this!”  “It’s comfier!”) There were only Harry’s boxers and her underwear between them.

“There’s no going back,�� she reminded him.

“I don’t want t’go back,” his voice was thick with the promise.

“Me either,” she whispered.

“Kitten,” he tilted her chin up from her staring at his chest. He brought her gaze back to his. “M’so in love with you. Always.”

She nodded. “I love you too,” she smiled.

He brought his mouth to cover hers again and a new feeling took over. The air was hotter, thicker, like they were moving through a pool of water. His lips never stopped kissing her, his tongue stroking softly against her lip as he did. It made her shiver. He curled closer to her, his hand reaching between them and skimming the outside of her panties. Her breath caught at the touch of his fingers on her suddenly aching center. Harry went back to kissing down her throat, over to the space where the curve of her shoulder met her neck. “Want t’make y’feel so good, kitten,” his voice was husky.

She already thought she was going to come undone from just his fingers touching the outside of her underwear and his throaty whisper. His fingers deftly pulled the fabric to the side, and he slid his finger down through the wetness that had accumulated between her leg. She shivered again and moaned softly again. He hadn’t even done anything. But his fingers were searching. Not for what she felt was aching for him most, but for her clit and he found it so quickly it made her cry out as he skillfully circled the pad of his finger on it not too hard but not too soft. “S’good, baby,” he hummed quietly and continued to kiss her. “You’re nice and wet, kitten. Who’s that for?”

“You,” her voice hardly carried through the whisper.

“Good,” he mumbled and dropped his finger lower, teasing her, because it felt like she was clenching, begging his finger to enter her.

Maybe if she had met Harry that night and hadn’t known his personality so well, she would have been shyer and wouldn’t have had the reaction she did. But part of her felt a little competitive and if he was going to tease her, she wasn’t going to let him enjoy it too much.

She pressed her hand to the outside of his boxers, feeling how hard he was and making him gasp at the touch. His hand stilled between her legs, and she tugged his boxers lower, so his dick escaped the fabric. He groaned as she wrapped her fingers around him. “Kitten,” he grunted into her skin, and she sighed as his fingers continued to circle her clit and search for something that she wasn’t sure Harry was going to find.

“Kitten, I haven’t had sex in three years,” he groaned.

“So...you better get inside me quick?” She suggested.

He groaned again. “Yes,” he nodded against her collarbone. “Please,” he almost whined. “Condom?” She nodded and pointed to her nightstand drawer.

She couldn’t disagree. Harry had double the time on her since her last intimate moment, but she wanted him so badly in her she thought if they waited any longer, she would cry. She removed her underwear and Harry sat up to remove his boxers.

Of course, she just finished feeling how big, hard, and long he was. But it was another thing entirely to see his length literally in the flesh. “Did y’jus’ gulp?”

Her cheeks warmed. “You’re...big,” she murmured.

He snorted putting the condom in place. “Y’know how t’give a guy an ego,” but she could see the way his cheeks pinked.

“Sorry,” she whispered. “I’m just...I want it,” she caught his gaze and as awkward as everything felt, looking into the pretty green eyes of her best friend, this was not. “I want everything with you.”

Harry’s gaze softened and he dropped his hips between her legs and caught her lips again. The sound of gentle music, their tangled breath, and the skin-to-skin contact was the only noise in the room. Harry reached between them again and slid the head of his cock along the wetness that pooled between her legs again. She moaned, loudly and without abandon. Harry grunted and pushed himself inside her.

It was like sliding the final puzzle piece together. They locked into a position that felt so right, so perfect, every bit of that awkwardness went away as quickly as it appeared. Harry groaned and buried his face in her neck again. It was his new favorite spot, tucked into the curve that smelled like her perfume and her hair. It was entirely her, and so perfect. “Fuck, kitten,” he grunted letting her have a minute to stretch to accommodate his body. It had been a while since there was a dick inside her and despite how wet Harry made her it didn’t help the ache that started as he settled perfectly between her thighs.

“Oh my God,” she whispered breathlessly. “Wow,” she mumbled.

Harry focused on breathing deeply so he wouldn’t burst the second one of them shifted. “We can jus’ stay like this,” he murmured. “Nothing else, for the rest of our lives.”

She kissed the side of his head and nodded. “Yes, please.”

He pulled back slightly, his body readjusted to the feeling and his gaze was hungry as he looked her in the eye. “You are my everything,” he whispered.

Her heart fluttered, as good as Harry’s body felt inside her, it was nothing in comparison to the way his words touched her. “I love you,” she whispered because everything else she thought to say seemed inadequate.

He smiled and brought his mouth to hers, kissed her deeply and started to move.

It felt fast and slow at the same time. A juxtaposition that she didn’t know was possible. Every time Harry’s hips pushed from hers to create a heavenly friction, she followed him begging for him to come back. It felt like being apart from him, even the inch he moved to make everything feel better, was too much. She thought if it felt any better, she would cry.

“Fuck,” he groaned pumping into her at a steady rhythm. Her hands searched his body, the length of his back, digging her nails into his hips to keep him close to her. His hands held her hips in place so he was able to provide the right leverage that angled his cock, so it hit every right spot.

“Baby,” she moaned into his neck and kissed his skin. He groaned again in response. He twisted her as if he had done it about a thousand times and suddenly, she was on top of him. Pressing her hands onto his chest and moving her hips up and down so she was gliding rhythmically up and down his length.

“This was a horrible idea,” he moaned. “M’gonna finish jus’ looking at you.”

She blushed, covered her face with one hand, and laughed lightly. “It feels so good,” she whispered. “I don’t want to leave this bed.”

Harry brought her body close, one hand cupping the back of her neck and other slid down her back, gripping her butt. “We don’t have to,” his voice was hungry and he sealed his lips between hers.

“I’m going to...” she bit the inside of her lip and buried her face into his neck again. “Oh my God,” she moaned.

Harry answered her moan with his own again and met each of her thrusts with his hips. “S’good, kitten. Fuck,” he sighed. “Wanted this for so long,” he brought her mouth. “Can’t wait for you t’cum all over me and then do it all over again,” he groaned.

His voice made her ache all over. She was already aching. She wanted to stay like this for the rest of her life. Maybe longer if it was allowed.

She had a vibrator and she had sex enough times to know when she was going to have a good orgasm. But this was nothing like that.

This was so much more. The connection she felt to Harry the adoration and love she felt was more than any tingling, body shaking reaction she ever had when Harry thrusted into her just so. “Oh there, there, there,” she begged and dropped her face to his neck again with a heavy sigh.

“M’here, kitten,” he promised holding her close to him. “Right there,” he repeated thrusting as she rode through the toe-curling, body shaking orgasm. He nipped at her shoulder as he finished. Sighing heavily she dropped to him fully, her body warm, and he kissed her forehead. He brushed her hair down kissed her again. “Gotta get off, kitten,” he murmured.

“I already did,” she mumbled back.

He chuckled. “Just two minutes, kitten,” he assured her. “I love you,” he whispered. She sighed deeply, rolled to the side and let Harry get out of bed quickly. When he returned from the bathroom she was sprawled across the bed facedown. “You okay, m’love?” He asked.

She nodded. “I love you too, Harry.”

He chuckled, wrapping himself around her like a koala bear. “Good.”

“Wanna do it again?” She asked.

He laughed and kissed along her back. “Already?” He asked.

“Gotta make-up for all that lost time. And three years, Harry!”

He smiled against her skin. “Give me a minute.”

“Take all the time you need. We have forever now.”

--

general taglist: general taglist: @justlemmeadoreyou @daydreamingofmatilda @sunshinemoonsposts @tiredinwinter @loving-hazz @likeapplejuicenpeach @straightontilmornin @freedomfireflies @littlenatilda @kathb59 @babegoals @angel-upon @lilfreakjez @mleestiles @ameliaalvarez06 @canyonmoondreams @summertime-pills @daphnesutton @l4rrysh0use @perfectywrong @foreverxholland @lovrave @st-ev-ie @pandeebearstyles @toosarcastic03 @luvonstyles @tenaciousperfectionunknown @classychalamet @love-letters-to-uranus @emmaawbr @crossyourpeter

committed taglist: @tiaamberxx

[pandorasword]

Chaeri as the 8th and youngest member of BTS.

CHAERI'S MASTERLIST

J-Hope's Enlistment

❒ genre: Slice of life

❒ words: 1.3k

❒ summary: In which Hobi spends the night before enlisting with Chaeri and Namjoon

❒ prompts requested from the dialogue prompts game: “I just wanted to say thank you for protecting me”

April 17, 2023

The building could hardly be considered a bar, more like a small shack with barely enough room to fit the counter and a few stools. Two tables, each only able to seat two people, took up the rest of the space. Despite its cramped size, they had intentionally chosen this place for the night, needing the privacy it offered.

The walls were made of worn wood and damp stains were scattered throughout, now covered by old movie posters dating back to before any of the three at the bar were even born. The illustrations, faded and worn, were movie posters, many from the mid-80s, and all shared a common theme: nostalgia. Which happened to be a shared feeling among them.

"Guys, I... I can't drink," Hobi hesitated, his fingers uncertainly hovering over the small glass - courteously offered by Namjoon - in front of him. "Tomorrow is an important day, everything will be filmed and I want to be at my—" but before he could finish his sentence, the amber alcoholic concoction disappeared from the trajectory of his fingers that were still uncertain what to do: to drink or not to drink?

Without hesitation, Chaeri next to him snatched it away and downed its contents in one gulp.

"Chaeri" Namjoon's tone held both reprimand and resignation as he watched her eagerly drink both her Andong Soju and Hobi's. 

“I need to be drunk to make it through tonight” she muttered “And you should drink too, you look awful.”

Hobi could not help but chuckle at the situation.

Their leader's normally composed expression was replaced with one of shock, his eyes wide and mouth slightly agape as if it was the first time the youngest member of their group had spoken to him without the expected respect for someone older.

Namjoon opened his mouth to respond, but then quickly closed it, instead resting his forehead on his open palm and leaning heavily against the counter. "Three more" he finally managed to request from the bartender, who simply nodded and filled three glasses with the same amber liquid as before. 

LATER

He had seen this coming. 

The moment they had suggested spending one last evening together, before it became impossible for who knew how long, he knew it would end like this: in the back of a luxurious car, with him sandwiched between two drunken friends, his shoulders serving as pillows. 

They had laughed and reminisced about the good old days, the first sips of alcohol, the first arguments, and then they had cried. 

Chaeri had ranted about the injustice of their society, how they were forced to endure over a year of grueling training because of an absurd law. 

Hobi didn't want to leave; deep down, she was right. 

But he had no choice. He would have given anything for a thousand more sleepless nights spent with his friends, now his chosen family, rather than fulfilling his duty as a South Korean citizen.

Namjoon was the first to get out of the car once they arrived in front of his residential building, which was the first stop. His legs wobbly from the drive and a few too many drinks.

With an affectionate gesture, he gave Hobi a reassuring pat on the shoulder, promising they’d catch up in the morning, and despite his slightly inebriated state, he also playfully ruffled Chaeri's hair, who was still wearily leaning on Hoseok. Staggering slightly as he stepped out onto the pavement, Namjoon closed the car door with a dull thud.

The car remained stationary for a moment, its engine idling softly, while everyone inside watched Namjoon walk toward the large entrance door of the building. Only when their leader had completely disappeared inside did the driver engage the gears, and the vehicle slowly pulled away.

Several minutes of silence passed in the dim cockpit, lit only by the flickering streetlights that passed the car. "I don't want you to go" Chaeri murmured, her voice barely above a whisper but clear. There was no tremor or drawl in her words, despite all the alcohol she had consumed, only a deep sadness could be sensed.

"First Jin, and now you... who knows who will leave next, and slowly I will find myself alone. I will have no one left. I don't want you to go." Her eyes, sparkling with barely held back tears, met the boy's look, begging, as if she might expect a different answer than the one she already had, as if he might assure her that he was going to stay.

And he wished, with all his heart, that he could.

He wrapped his arm around her, the one Chaeri had been leaning on since they got in the car, pulling her close to his chest in a protective embrace. It was a familiar gesture, repeated countless times during their late-night drives after events that left them both exhausted, when the only sound was the soft hum of the engine.

Chaeri, with her reassuring presence and the fruity scent that seemed uniquely hers, had grown far beyond the girl he remembered. Now, sitting next to him, he could see a fully realized woman, a transformation he had witnessed with pride over the years.

The realization that he had to leave her tightened his heart, a subtle and persistent pain, sharper than the thought of parting from the others. She was his masterpiece, the living testament to the time and love he had invested in her.

She had been his little Chaeri, and he had always been her 'big brother'.

"I don't want to go either" After a pause, he finally spoke up. His breath felt heavy and his throat seemed to have a lump in it, making his voice sound like a faint whisper. He reached out to gently stroke her long hair, trying to offer comfort not just to her, but also to himself.  "But time will pass quickly, and I'll be back before you know it. I'll call you every night, take days off so we can spend them together, and send you all the silly photos I take in that ridiculous uniform. I promise."

Chaeri leaned back from his embrace, her tear-stained cheeks glowing red from the Soju she had been drinking "You better keep that promise" she said, biting her bottom lip to stop it from trembling. "Or I'll personally come looking for you."

Hobi couldn't help but burst into laughter, feeling the tension in his chest melt away, as his own eyes grew watery. "You're not very threatening when you cry" he teased, playfully poking her cheeks with two fingers. 

"And you won't be threatening in a military uniform."

"Oh, I'm well aware of that" Hobi joked back.

"Besides, green is definitely not your color."

"I disagree! I look great in green!"

Chaeri smiled, looking at him tenderly. Playful bickering like that would have been one of the things she would have suffered most away from him. With the palm of her hand she wiped her cheeks "I'm going to miss you"

"I'll miss you too, kid" 

"I know I won't be able to say much in front of the cameras tomorrow, so... I just wanted to say thank you for protecting me. For all these years, thank you. Maybe I've never said it before.. but I mean it"

The man felt his heart swell with love once again as his gaze rested on Chaeri, who looked back at him with her big eyes full of affection. They were a mixture of sweetness and melancholy.

He had to squint slightly to contain more tears. It was incredible how he had become attached to her and the other members of the group over the years, how protecting them and caring for them had become his deepest instinct.It had become instinctive for him, a natural extension of his love for them. He never expected anything in return because every smile from them, every moment of happiness or success, had been his greatest reward

"You never had to say it, Chaeri”

taglist: @alixnsuperstxr | @bts-dream | @enchantingbrowneyedgirl | @ycuvi | @cosmicwintr

[naughtystiel]

DEANCAS AU FIC REC MASTERPOST

Although I loved all of these fics, the ones with stars next to them are my absolute favourites! Happy reading! ♡

One million fires burning ☆

Dean Winchester teaches three classes a day, tutors after school, and chairs the English Department for Lawrence High School. He does enough.

Unfortunately, his boss doesn't feel the same and informs him that he has a new job: co-coaching the school's trivia team. His co-coach? None other than the school's golden boy, Castiel Milton. Who Dean can't stand, for various reasons, all of which are valid, thank you very much. And the fact that Dean can't stop talking about the stick up Cas's, sorry, Milton's ass?

Completely irrelevant.

Should have just asked ☆

Despite their age gap and differing social circles, Castiel has struck up a warm friendship with Mary Winchester, a wealthy widowed socialite. When Castiel needs a place to stay, Mary invites him into her house, where there’s loads of spare room. Castiel’s aware that they make an odd pair, but he doesn’t fully realize how things look to outsiders, especially to Mary’s eldest son. All Dean Winchester sees is that his mom has apparently hooked up with a hot young guy (who is totally Dean’s type) and that makes things… weird.

Living in agony ☆

Dean Winchester's life is... well, it's not great. He's a gym teacher, he's in his thirties, and he can't seem to keep any part of his life straight. When the aftermath of a one-night stand goes awry, Dean is dragged kicking and screaming out of his cozy little closet and into the harsh light of reality.

Enter: Castiel Novak, the new history teacher, who knows full well that life gets crappy when you don't allow yourself to live it in the way it needs to be lived.

The last great race

There is a race that takes place every year in Alaska called the Iditarod, a thousand mile journey across the Alaskan wilderness by dog sled team that has come to be known as "The Last Great Race on Earth”. It is a test of endurance, of the relationship between dogs and their people, traversing mountain ranges, frozen rivers, forest and tundra.

When writer Castiel Milton is forced to spend two and a half months in Alaska at Winchester Kennels to cover the race preparations and the Iditarod itself, the only person more dismayed than he is Dean Winchester, one of his hosts. Castiel views his assignment as a punishment and is less than impressed by his surly host, and Dean distrusts the sheltered city-born writer who has invaded their home and their lives. But soon, as the Winchesters prepare for their race and Castiel learns about sled dogs and what a musher’s lifestyle is all about, they forget to hate each other and their relationship evolves into something neither of them expected.

Starstruck ☆

From the outside Castiel Novak looks like a regular guy: a good job, two teenage kids, a nice house and a crappy car he’s way too attached to.

But there’s one thing no one knows about him: that, over twenty years ago, he used to live next to none other than Dean Winchester – back then a brash and loud-mouthed boy and nowadays a huge movie star and Hollywood’s sweetheart.

Castiel never bothered to tell anyone about his childhood friend because frankly, who would believe him? Probably even Dean himself already forgot about his former awkward and weird neighbor, so Castiel seriously doesn’t see any point in mentioning the whole thing ever.

But then an interview on national TV happens where Dean reveals way more about his past than ever before … and Castiel - as well as the rest of the world - suddenly realizes that he left a much bigger impact on Dean’s life than he originally thought.

Russian to the altar ☆

“I need you to marry Castiel.”

They weren’t the words Dean expected to hear from his business partner’s mouth before their bakery-slash-chocolate shop opened for the day. He’d been quite happy being single—and who the fuck was Castiel, anyway?

It turned out that Castiel was a Russian erotic novelist in need of a ticket to America, and Dean… well, Dean was a last resort.

I wanna get outside (of me) ☆

Dean is a novice in the dom/sub world asked by his employer as a desperate last resort to be a sub for his recluse of a brother, Castiel. Castiel is a diagnosed OCD suffering from PTSD and agoraphobia, mysophobia, and dystychiphobia. Needless to say—he’s a mess who hasn’t stepped out of his home in literally seven years. The only times Gabriel can see traces of the way his brother used to be is when he feels in control—specifically when he has control over a sub. However, due to his idiosyncrasies and paranoia, keeping a sub around has been impossible. Enter Dean, who’s not a very traditional submissive, to try his hand at subbing for the hermit.

Painted angels ☆

Author Castiel Novak has finally hit the big time, with a book based on his failed college relationship with a brilliant painter. He's put all his pain behind him, but at a book signing, he comes face to face with Dean Winchester for the first time in twelve years, and the reunion doesn't go like Cas hoped. Dean's a broken man, with a lot of scars and secrets, shoulders weighed down by his demons and self loathing.

Cas sees a second chance with the man he's never stopped loving, but Dean's moved on, and is about to get married. Sam launches a "brilliant" plan to reunite his brother and his best friend, but Cas is worried it will all blow up in their faces, and he'll go through the agony of losing Dean a second time.

Texas state of mind

Dean Winchester was once an award winning country music star, but fame came too early. Now, he’s fifteen years sober and owns a ranch in western Texas. He’s happy with his life. He has horses, a nice herd of cattle and so what, if he’s alone. He tells his friends that he’s happily single. Back when he was touring, men and women threw themselves at him – but he knew they only wanted him for his fame.

Cas Novak just won his fifth CMA award. He loves singing, but the touring was getting old. Living in a bus nine months out of the year was slowly destroying his creativity. He hasn’t written anything new in over a year. Then he hears an old song on the radio. He vaguely remembers the handsome singer and wondered whatever happened to him. Before he knew it, he'd written a new song. The only problem was…it was a duet. A duet that could only be sung with a voice like Winchester’s.

After locating the man’s ranch, Cas makes a surprise visit. Will he be able to talk Dean into joining him on stage after all these years? Will the two men find what they’ve been looking for all their lives – someone to share a future with?

If angels were men

Castiel Novak was raised by a hunting father, but he left that life behind for college and a flower shop. When his father is killed by a demon, Cas jumps back in the game and finds himself constantly running in the presence of the Winchester brothers, who are searching for their own father. They seem to be everywhere he turns, and at some point they become friends, then a team, then, maybe, in the case of Dean Winchester, something more.

Vagabonds ☆

Dean is a sheriff in a tiny town in Colorado, restless and unsatisfied with his life. It's not like what he's read about in the dime novels since he was little, capturing dangerous outlaws and being the last word of the law. More like tossing the town drunk in a cell to sober up when they get a little too rowdy.

But Dean's chance comes when a thief rolls through their town. He pursues the thief, which puts him right into the path of Emmanuel, a notorious outlaw. When he is captured by the outlaw and his gang to be held for ransom, Dean starts off on a journey he could have never envisioned, and learns that perhaps there's more to Emmanuel than meets the eye.

Four letter word for intercourse ☆

As a grease monkey turned college freshman, Dean's constantly three seconds away from being stressed out of his mind. It hardly helps that he's finally figuring out his sexuality in his thirties.

What might help with that stress is a little phone number (and a big credit card bill). If he can't figure out how to be bisexual in person, he can at least give it a go over the phone, right?

(It's probably a bad idea, but he really can't help himself.)

Any little heartbreak ☆

Dean Winchester knows everything there is to know about the human heart.

Well.

Anatomically speaking.

Get some

Very slowly, Dean turns. 'How'd you know I was here about a room?'

'Power of deduction,' says Castiel, leaning against the doorway. 'I mean, you're not after pot, and I'm pretty sure we haven't slept together.' He grins wolfishly, gaze sliding over Dean's body. 'You, I'd remember.'

Dean's been hit on by guys before, but never so blatantly, let alone by a semi-naked dude in a kimono. A hot blush warms his cheeks, and he covers his shock with cockiness, tilting his head and grinning. 'Sorry to disappoint you, Cas, but I don't swing that way.'

Castiel throws back his head and laughs. 'And you want to live here? What, did your friends put you up to this?'

'Actually, yeah.' Dean raises an eyebrow. 'Is that a problem for you?'

What i need

A joking phrase commonly heard between a surgeon and his tech is "Give me what I need, not what I ask for." Dr. Novak and his tech Dean will soon learn the impact this phrase has on life outside the operating room.

Mad at your dad? ☆

Dean wasn’t sure why he was even scrolling through Craigslist. Especially not the casual encounters section. It was four days before Thanksgiving. Not like he was gonna try and hook up with someone before that shitstorm. After, sure, but not before.

He kept scrolling, though, not clicking anything until a title caught his eye.

Alone on Thanksgiving? Mad at your dad? I am a 28 year old male felon who has no degree, but has studied enough theologies of the world, behavioral psychology, and philosophy to set your whole family’s teeth on edge—no matter which way they lean, politically, religiously or in terms of neuroses. I drive a van the same age as me that’s got a mural on the side of an angel holding an orgy. I can play between the ages of 20-30 depending on whether I shave. I live off an inheritance, and sell weed on the side. If you’d like to have me as your strictly platonic date for Thanksgiving, but have me pretend to be in a very long or serious relationship (monogamous or polyamorous, whichever sounds most like it would freak out su familia) with you (and/or others), to torment your family, I’m game...

(dis)affection ☆

When Dean and Castiel are tricked to go on a date, neither is happy about this. To get back at their deceitful friends, they hatch the perfect plan: pretend to be dating, and gross out their friends with their over-the-top, disgustingly cute romantic relationship – and then break up in the most despicable manner imaginable. As it turns out, you can learn a lot from someone just by pretending affection.

Ninety one whiskey ☆

In the spring of 1944, the 104th Medical Battalion of the United States Army is disbanded, and its men reassigned to various infantry companies in preparation for their invasion of occupied France. For First Lieutenant Novak, this is less than helpful, as he has so far met his platoon’s designated medic a grand total of twice, and has both times found Sergeant Winchester to be the optimum combination of reckless, arrogant, and downright insufferable so as to make cohesive platoon function near impossible. When the time comes to move out, however, Castiel has to reconcile himself to the fact that men are going to go down and trust that Dean Winchester may well be the only person who can put them back together again. WW2 ETO infantry AU.

The breath of all things

Dean Winchester was twenty-six years old when a car accident killed his father and left him paralysed from the waist down. A year and a half later, Dean is in a wheelchair and lives in a care home in Kansas, where he spends his days waiting to die. It's only when Castiel Novak starts volunteering at the care home that Dean starts to wonder if a changed life always equals a ruined one.

If you'd have been the one

A boy sits on the front steps, his dark hair a wild mess. A gingerbread boy, Dean thinks. Dressed in pressed slacks and a sweater-vest to match his father’s. He looks about Dean’s age; maybe they’ll be in the same class. That wouldn’t be too bad, unless he’s mean. He could be mean; a lot of kids are mean to him, so he has to be mean back.

He hopes this one is nice.

...

In the year 1986, at seven years old, Dean Winchester meets Castiel Novak.

Eleven years go by, then eight, then three.

Somewhere along the way, things start to change.

Spirit of the west ☆

Dean grew up on a horse farm and can't imagine any other life. There are drawbacks to working for his father, but they're worth it if it means remaining with his beloved horses. Besides, between his broken arm and his lack of prospects, he hasn't got much else.

Something of an outsider, Dean always feels like there's something he's missing. But this tense summer brings back a figure from his past: years ago, a teenaged Cas worked for a season at the Winchester ranch. His return could change everything.

If you ever wanted a 90s horse girl book, but starring a young Dean Winchester, this is your fic.

Guns and wings

Dean Winchester is the sheriff in the small town of Sioux Falls, along with his deputy (and brother) Sam. Life there is calm and normal, easy to manage with the occasional problems. That is until the Garrison gang sends an assassin to kill one of their beloved citizens. Dean is ready to hang the man for his crimes, when the outlaw gives him a deal he can't pass up. The whole Garrison gang. Dean and the criminal, Castiel, set off to find the gang; enemies working towards a common goal. Dean is determined to hate Castiel, but the longer they journey together and the more he finds out about the outlaw the harder it becomes to deny the feelings he begins to have for the man. But he's the sheriff and he has a job to do, he can't fall in love with a criminal... Right?

Life was a willow

When Dean’s favorite author becomes a regular at his bar, Dean knows he’s done for. He never could have anticipated the intense feelings that blossomed for the talented Castiel. There’s just one thing standing in his way of being with Castiel the way he truly wants: Castiel is waiting for his soulmate.

Dean has spent his entire life hating the concept of soulmates. He just wants to live his life without the universe intervening. If the only way he can keep Castiel in his life is by swallowing his feelings, then that’s what he’ll do.

300cc ☆

300 Complementary Characters: a forum on Kansas City University’s student website. You can write whatever you want, but it has to be 300 characters or less.

Dean is crushing hard on Sam’s TA, but it feels different than it has before; it feels like he needs to do it properly, to have a grand declaration and to prove that romance isn’t dead. What better way to profess his feelings than posting a poem on 300cc?

Castiel is torn. There’s no mistaking the poem is for him, but who could be posting them? Despite being very tempted by the very attractive new light and sound engineer that will be working on the play he has written, Castiel can’t ignore the feeling that he and the anonymous Poet are meant to be together.

A comedy of errors, mutual pining, and erotic poetry.

Satin and sawdust ☆

When Castiel moves out of Jimmy's house and into his own place for the first time, he saves money on buying a home by investing in a Fixer-Upper. He knows nothing about how to fix the many problems the house has, but he figures he's smart enough to figure it out. Unfortunately it's not too long before he learns that he's way in over his head.

Thankfully his new neighbor Dean is a handyman, and agrees to help him out. He knows Dean has a bit of a crush on him, but he's not taking advantage of it, really. Dean's a great guy, and quickly becomes a good friend.

But a flash of satin under Dean's toolbelt changes everything.

Stay with me, sweetheart ☆

“Alright Cas, here comes the hard part. We’re gonna get you out of here, but we’ve gotta take the roof off and while we do that, we’re gonna have to cover you with a sheet to protect you from the glass. I’ll be right here though. I’m not going anywhere.”

As he starts to drift away, he suddenly feels the press of Dean’s forehead against his own through the rough fabric and hears that warm, sunlit voice murmer quietly in his ear, too low to be overheard by the firefighters currently working to remove the SUV’s roof, “Stay with me, Sweetheart.”

A single moment's distraction ends with a serious car accident that leaves Castiel trapped in his vehicle. Fortunately for him, fire fighter Dean Winchester is there, never leaving Castiel's side as the rest of his company work to free him from the mangled remains of his SUV.

When the two meet again in the ICU, Castiel finds himself just as drawn to and comforted by the handsome fireman as he was during his accident. Dean is certainly attractive, but single father Castiel doesn't have time or space in his life for a romantic relationship.

Then again, there's no harm in making a new friend, is there?

And this, your living kiss

Only a very few people in the world know that the celebrated and reclusive poet Jack Allen is just Kansas mechanic Dean Winchester, a high school dropout with a few bucks to his name. Not that it matters anymore; life has left him so wrung out he never wants to pick up another pen.

Until, that is, a string of coincidences leads Dean to auditing a poetry course with one Dr. Castiel Novak. The professor is wildly intelligent, devastatingly handsome...and just so happens to be academia's foremost expert on the poetry of Jack Allen.

Sometimes you'll find that i'm out of my mind ☆

Castiel returns from the Empty, and Dean worries obsessively. Dean also sleeps on the floor in Cas' room, which he admits is weird, but at least he's sleeping.

[mixtape127]

worlds colliding ☆ pt.1

genre : non!idol mark lee x male reader, college au, ennemies to lovers ?

summary : what if you - kinda - had to save the world and Mark was your sidekick ? or — you need to give out fliers for a class, and Mark doesn't care about "global warming."

warnings : strong language, mark is kind of a douchebag but i swear he's sweet, not proofread yet

words : 1.6k

notes : i love this story sm, it's been in my drafts for so long and it was supposed to be about p1harmony, but i like it with mark too ! might make it in more than just 2 parts if you guys enjoy it as much as i do ! and btw, english isn't my native language, so i really do hope i actually wrote well and if i made dumb mistakes, i'm sorry :((

currently listening to :

"thank you, please look forward to it !" y/n says, bowing multiple times, a smile enlightening his face, watching the group of students walk away with fliers in his hands. "i hope to see you there tomorrow !"

it must have been around 9:40 a.m., a chilly morning for a spring day. the sun was shining, the clouds were absent. the green leaves were showing, some still falling on the grass of the campus park. the students in short sleeves were out again, and the jocks were taking advantage of the cooler weather to work out outside. y/n looked up, his eyes squinting in the bright sunlight. he felt cold, his bones shaking. his poor denim jacket did not cover his bare arms, and his jeans with holes in them did not provide any warmth either. he smiled to himself, seeing some birds migrating elsewhere, formed into a triangle.

he blinked a few times, returning to his emotionless face, before continuing to approach some of the students in groups to give them the rest of his fliers. but none of them seemed interested, and y/n began to lose hope. his business professor had made it clear that if he couldn't get at least 20 students to donate, his semester was over. this was his last chance, and he wasn't about to let it go. his displeasure gradually began to show, the creases in his face deepening. the more people walked around him, the more his hands tightened around his fliers. it's one thing for them not to be interested, but for them to ignore him like this is another.

for a moment there was a flutter, no one was coming out or going in. he took the opportunity to catch his breath, closing his eyes.

"one... two... three..." he whispered to himself, focusing on the soft whistle of the wind.

when he opened them again, he saw a figure facing him approaching the doors of the art building behind him. y/n thought to himself that this was fate, that this boy was almost arriving with a glittering halo of light behind him, signifying y/n's last chance. he took this opportunity and approached the guy, feeling confident.

"hey, how's it going? i'm handing out fliers about globa-..."

a brief gust of wind caressed the skin of his face. again, no response. the boy stalked his way, his headphones screwed to his ears, only giving y/n a small glance. he stood there, watching the boy's back as he walked away. he finally admitted to himself that this time, his pride had been shattered into a thousand pieces, and someone had come to trample it right after. he noted in a corner of his head that he didn't like the idea at all. but it was without realizing it that his legs responded alone, quickly approaching the young black-haired student. he patted him on the shoulder vigorously and handed him the previously crumpled paper in his hands when the latter turned around.

Mark, on his side, put on a bewildered face, one eyebrow raised. he was sure that he had deliberately ignored this boy just a few seconds ago. his day was not starting very well. his dog had chewed on his last pair of freshly bought shoes, his roommate — Donghyuck — had finished his favourite cereal and the hot water had been turned off on his floor. then finally his bus... never came, so he set out to walk to the university, realizing halfway there that his wireless headphones were out of battery. he'd wasted about ten minutes buying wired ones just to survive the rest of the day. and it was also at that very moment, coming out of the convenience store, that he promised himself he'd keep a spare pair of headphones in the bottom of his bag, just in case.

he took out one of his headphones, and uttered an extremely nonchalant "what? i'm late." he didn't mean to sound mean or disapproving, but the day was already taking its toll on him. he almost wondered what kind of people were picking on him so much, and for what reason? had he been too mean to the salesman last night, when he asked him to get out of the store because Mark was singing EXO's music at the top of his lungs? was he too dismissive of his singing teacher when she told him to stop doing 'too much'? and then, what do you mean 'too much'? Mark really didn't like that word, even less when it described his singing.

y/n, on the other hand, waved the paper in front of his nose. he was frustrated with his morning, especially with the way people responded to him. and especially the way Mark said 'what'. he wondered why people were in such a bad mood in the morning. he let out a breath to regain his composure before starting.

"before you cut me off, i think taking this won't hurt you. i'm really passionate about this cause, so i will give you this flier. and if i have to shove it down your throat, i'll do it." he pressed the piece of paper against the boy's chest in front of him. "thank you, and have a great day."

y/n bowed before rotating drastically, turning his back on Mark. he put his hand on his heart, which was now pounding in his chest. not because the black-haired boy was a living god, but because he felt he was getting carried away and tangled up in his words. how people see him matters a lot to him, even if he doesn't talk about it much. and he knew that this interaction was going to play over and over in his head tonight and keep him awake.

"what a fucking weirdo..." Mark muttered once y/n was far enough away.

he clutched the flier in his hands before resuming his journey to his class, which was really about to start. what do you mean 'i'll shove it down your throat'? he shook his head from left to right, pushed open the door and quickly dashed down the left corridor, hitting someone in the shoulder on his way.

Mark hardly turned around, just to give a weak look to the brown man who was bending while getting lost in excuses, and he took a quick walk to room 208. once in front of it, he opened the door and quickly sneaked to his place, at the back left of the room, managing to pass out of the radar of his teacher, who hadn't even noticed his absence until then.

once seated, he took out some of his things, not forgetting his bottle of fresh orange juice, something he bought every Tuesday morning to give himself luck during that long day. Tuesdays were never really his days, always bad and gloomy. he wasn't superstitious, but if Tuesdays could disappear completely, his world would be much better.

as he took his notebook out of his backpack, the flier given to him by y/n slid silently to the ground. Mark bent down to pick it up, not failing to roll his eyes as he placed it back on the table. but his eyes were drawn to a large headline.

"THE WORLD IS SLOWLY ENDING, BUT YOU'RE THE HERO, RIGHT?"

he chuckled silently, before turning the paper over to see the back, finding that there was nothing written on it, and crumpled it up in his hand before tossing it into his backpack. saving the world was not in his plans. not today. 

maybe tomorrow... who knows? and he did. he saved y/n's world, in some sort of way the day right after.

"it will serve you better than me."

y/n blinked a few times, frowning in front of his phone, which was playing a summer song, although outside, it was raining damn heavily. he wondered if the voice came from someone talking to a friend behind him, or from his headphones. but the whistle sound in his right ear brought him back to reality. he let out a faint "i'm not a fucking dog-" before looking at the umbrella someone was holding upon his head, then at a guy with brown hair. it takes some time for y/n to connect the dots — maybe because of some sort of poor eyesight — but when he does, his mouth opens up wide.

"you're the guy from yesterday that said "what" so nonchalantly it made my day way worse than it was already !"

Mark rolled his eyes. "i'm trying to save the world, being a hero, i'm landing you my umbrella." with a devilish grin, he removes the umbrella from above y/n's head. "but if you want, i can leave too."

"i'm surprised you read that flier you hated so much." he mutters.

y/n did not know if he should accept, but after all, it won't kill him and it will keep him from getting sick. even though he loved hanging out in bed instead of going to class, getting sick was one of the things he hated the most.

"thanks a lot... um... what's your name?"

"Mark."

he took the umbrella and put it over his head while nodding, repeating Mark's name quietly like he was getting used to it. their eyes met again before Mark got swept away by Donghyuck's reminder that the bus was there and it wouldn't wait for them. he let himself be swept away, and a minute later, y/n's silhouette evaporated in the distance, through the mist on the bus windows.

Mark was lost in thought. and he noticed that his name sounded pretty coming out of y/n's mouth.

[yesbutmakeitgay]

Say Your Name Into A Mirror Three Times

GIF by userbrielarson

Carol Danvers x Reader

We’ve Loved A Thousand Lives

Same beginning, different story every time.

Part 11

Heavy angst, PTSD, mentions of death, vague mentions of suicide, happy ending.

Beta'd by @cordeliasdarling 💜

A/N: This one is heavier than any of the other installments in the collection, read at your own discretion.

Word count: 1.3k

Masterlist | This collection | AO3

Carol walks back into her ship after another successful mission wanting for nothing more than to relax and rest until she senses someone else’s presence in her space home.

She walks slowly, pointing one of her lit up fists in a general forward direction, when she reaches the living room, her glowing lights up your face. You stand before her, powerless.

She stops in her tracks a few feet away from you, petrified, frozen in place, so in shock that she almost forgets how to breathe. She slowly brings her lit up hand to cover her silent gasp.

"Have you seen a ghost, Captain?" you utter emotionless.

She swallows thickly, "You're alive." Her voice is barely above a whisper.

"No thanks to you."

She slowly takes a couple of steps toward you, "You were dead, I saw you—"

"I was sedated. They lied to you and you believed them," you reply in a harsh tone. She quickly notices your disheveled state, you have lost a lot of weight, your eyes are red with irritation, and your face has been drained of all its color.

"Are you okay?" Her eyes travel between yours.

"What do you think?"

"I’m sorry, angel, I thought—" she clears her throat, "I never stopped looking." At some point she began looking for a body, not a person, but she keeps that part to herself.

"Then why was I the one who had to crawl my way back here?" you hiss.

Her breathing becomes shaky, "I couldn’t, the universe needed me."

A sour tear escapes your eye, "You were my universe."

"What did they do to you?" she asks in horror, looking over all the scars, marks, and poorly healed wounds on your exposed skin.

"I don't know." Your voice cracks a little before you regain your composure. You don't wanna talk about it, you're not ready and she doesn't deserve it.

You walk past her and accidentally brush her shoulder in the process, the touch is so light, but Carol feels it like an earthquake. You enter the bathroom and close the door behind you.

When she hears the running water, she decides to make herself useful. As you exit the bathroom a familiar smell makes your stomach grumble, you see the hot meal waiting for you at the table and immediately sit down to eat.

You eye Carol for a moment before digging in, wishing she would join you, but she doesn’t. You know she's trying to give you space, still, you were hoping she'd at least have a meal with you.

You didn't realize how hungry you were, having been on a runaway diet for so long, until you finish your plate in 7 minutes flat. She approaches you and asks if you want another, you only nod in response.

You finish your second plate not long after and go lay on the couch. She understands you probably don't wanna share a bed with her, so she brings out some pillows and blankets for you to get comfy, turns the light off, and retires to her room.

A few hours later, your body begins to question your safety while you're sound asleep and forces you to wake up in a panic, your eyes shoot open as you begin to hyperventilate.

You sit up and hug your knees to your chest as tightly as you can in your weakened state, trying to control your breathing, you look around and remind yourself you're in Carol's ship. You're home.

After you calm down, you go to the kitchen and make yourself some tea, you look for your favorite mug, but don't find it. On your way back to the couch, a small device catches your attention, so you bring it back and set it beside your tea mug.

You stare at it for what seems like hours, feeling the warmth of the drink embrace you. After a few more sips of your tea, you have made your choice, you take a deep breath, lay down, and place the memory device on your head.

Your vision is pitch black with a faint beeping sound in the distance and voices muttering, "The Captain's not coming for her, she is on the other side of the galaxy."

"Be patient, she will come in due time."

"Can’t we just kill her already? She’s hanging on by a thread."

"Unplug the monitor and take the damn video, let's give The Captain a horror show."

In an instant, you feel someone else’s memory tug at your brain. You now see Carol, talking to a hologram of Fury, "Did you take control of my ship?" She’s beyond agitated.

"Mhmm."

"You can't do that, stop it!"

"Yes, I can, I already did." Fury seems calm and collected as always.

Carol frantically presses buttons on the control panel, "Give it back!"

"Not until you get back to your mission. There is a war happening, and you're too busy aimlessly cruising the universe."

"I need to find her." Carol’s voice grows desperate.

"You need to save an entire planet from disappearing, I have your issue under control."

"No, you don't, you don't know where they have her either."

"And if you don't get back to your mission, I will stop looking." Fury’s threat sounds very uncharacteristic to you.

"You wouldn’t."

"Don’t test me."

"She’s your agent!" Carol argues, still unsuccessfully working on her ship.

"So are you, go do your job!"

You're finally able to free yourself from Carol's memory and find her laying on the window seat, "What are you doing?" you demand.

"I’m sorry, I had to, I have to know what happened to you."

"Well, now we'll never know." You sit up on the couch supporting your arms on your thighs, looking to the ground. The memory device has drained all of your mental energy.

She notices your cold cup of tea and uses her powers to warm it up before handing it to you while sitting beside you.

"The day I got that video I almost did something very stupid," she breaks the silence, "Kamala came and stayed with me for a while to, you know," her words make you look up at her again,  "I kept running out of plans, out of places to look…out of hope. Fury said he was looking for you, but I disobeyed him so much, I’m not sure he really was anymore," she begins to fidget with the hem of her shirt, "I never meant for any of this to happen."

"You said you would always protect me and I believed you." Your gazes meet longingly.

"Can I touch you?" she hesitates.

"You know I’m not really a ghost, right?" She looks at you with the saddest puppy eyes, her breath is shaky, "Come here," you coo, softly pulling her into a hug, she clings to you with all her might, as if you could fade away at any second.

She begins to sob into your shoulder, "I thought I lost you." Carol doesn't cry often, if at all, the sight tugs at your heartstrings, all the pent up anger you arrived with melts away.

"You're burning up, angel," you mumble into her skin, she doesn't have the heart to tell you, you're the one freezing cold, but she makes sure to keep her temperature high to gently warm you up.

You remain intertwined and, after a while, she starts to float with you in her arms as her crying subsides. Her grasp on you is so tight that there’s nothing you can do about it, not that you want to.

She takes you to bed and cuddles up to you like she's trying to meld your bodies together, you look around and notice all of your things are exactly where you left them, all of your clothes are hanging on your side of the closet, your shoes messily placed by the foot of the bed, and your favorite mug still on the bedside table.

"Thank you for waiting for me," you whisper into her chest.

She places a kiss on the top of your head, "I’m so glad I have you back."

[rebelwrites]

Seventeen: Baby You Ain’t As Anonymous As you Think.

Charles Leclerc x Nova Teller (OC)

Till the wheels fall off masterlist

Small town meets the fast lane. What happens when two souls meet? Will it end in happiness or will they both crash and burn?

As always reblogs and feedback is highly appreciated ❤️ if you want tagging in future parts let me know ❤️

Standing amongst the crowd I watched Jax and Tig take the makeshift stage that had been built down by the lake. I was still unsure why we needed a stage this big but Jax and Pops were adamant they wanted it, they sure as hell loved theatrics. Tearing my gaze away from Jax I turned to look at Charles, who now had Elenor sitting on his shoulders, she had a proud smirk on her face like she had just walked into a candy store and the store owner told her everything was free.

“Tu vas bien, ma chérie ? Are you all right, darling?” Charles beamed, flashing me a smile.

“I will be,” I hummed, reaching up gently squeezing his arm. After the photos were released on instagram this morning I felt myself holding back from public displays of affection and it was killing me.

“Auntie Nova, can we have a movie night tonight?” Elenor grinned, fluttering her long eyelashes at me, “and can Uncle Charles and Uncle Pierre come as well?”

“I don’t see why not baby,” I beamed back at her before turning to Charles, “you down for movie night with my crazy ass family? There is a high possibility we will be making our way through all of the Cars movies,” I giggled, knowing that Elenor would beg and plead to put all three films on.

“Sunshine, didn’t you know Cars is one of my favorite movies,” he smirked with a wink.

“Alright then, Lightning McQueen.”

“Kachow.”

“Oh my god!” I exclaimed, covering my face with my hands, trying to hide the snort that escaped my lips, “you did not just Kachow me. God, you are a giant dork!”

Before Charles could respond Jax’s voice echoed around the lake, as if the boy needed a microphone he was loud enough as it was, “I just want to say thank you from the bottom of my heart for everyone turning up today. Before we kick off the annual scavenger hunt I have just been made aware of a few donations that have come in anonymously.”

I found myself cocking my brow at my brother who just smirked at me, throwing me a wink as he pulled a piece of paper out of his back pocket, “I honestly could cry at these donations. Two people have donated 26 thousand dollars between them, with 10 thousand dollars going towards the dementia charity and 16 thousand dollars being given,'' the words were getting caught in his throat, as he covered his eyes with his hand trying to stop the tears, “to the Teller family to help with any future care that JT needs.”

There was nothing stopping the tears from spilling over my lashline, I didn’t even try to stop them. That's when it hit me, everything made perfect sense. Two donations which both happened to be the same numbers as the two dorks standing either side of me drove under. Without saying a word I turned to Pierre pulling him into a tight hug, before turning to Charles reaching my hand up resting it on his cheek with a watery smile on my face.

“Baby, you ain’t as anonymous as you think,” I whispered, feeling him copy my movements but instead of letting his hand sit still against my skin he slowly used his thumb to wipe away my tears.

“I don’t know what you are talking about, Sunshine.”

The rest of the day went by in one big blur, the scavenger hunt was a success, even if it was the first year where I didn’t win but I didn’t care. My focus was on Charles, I wanted to enjoy the little time we had left together so the afternoon was spent wandering around town, showing Charles the places that held fond memories for me. All whilst keeping an eye out for people that might be trying to leak pictures of the two of us, luckily for us everyone was more focused on the events of the day then me and Charles.

“I just need to finish up here then we can head back to mine,” I hummed, leaning up on my tiptoes pressing my lips against his cheek.

“Take your time Sunshine,” he smiled, picking Elenor up, sitting her on the top of the bar.

I couldn’t help but smile as I walked away from the two of them, slipping into the back I needed to find Jax. I knew where he would be, taking a deep breath I wrapped my fingers around the door handle before slowly pushing it open. I needed to clear the air between us. I hated the fact we had hardly spoken all day.

“Hey,” I said quietly, leaning against the wooden frame.

“Hey, yourself,” he said looking up from the paper that was in his hands, “about earlier,”

“Don’t worry about it,” I said softly, fiddling with the sleeves of Charles hoodie, “my head has been all over the place recently with you know,” I paused, dropping my gaze to my hands, “everything with Pops and the social media post, then you tell me we fucked up with Juice, I just kinda exploded.”

“We do need to talk about it though,” Jax sighed, dropping the paper onto the desk.

“I know,” I whispered, finally looking back up at my brother, “I need to get my head straight first, okay.”

“Okay,” Jax nodded, pushing himself up to his feet, taking a few strides across the small room before he pulled me into a tight hug, “I still love you, don’t worry about that Squirt.”

Resting my cheek against the cool leather, I took another deep breath, “enough mushy shit, Elenor wants a movie night so lock the office up and let's get outta here.”

Jax didn’t take much convincing, I knew that movie nights were his favorite, taking a step back, I started walking back into the main room. The moment I stepped out behind the bar I felt my blood starting to boil at the sight that was in front of me. My fingers twitched as I formed a fist, I was ready to punch a bitch.

She was pushing her fake ass tits up against Charles and fluttering her false eyelashes.

“If you wanna live, I would suggest you walk away whilst you have the chance,” I said through gritted teeth, pausing so I could unclench my fist covering Elenor’s ears, “you fucking skanky ass bitch.”

The smirk that Ima flashed made me want to grab the knife from behind me, the one that we used to cut up the lemon and limes, “well, let's be real, you aren’t the kind of person that Charlie goes for,” she laughed, turning back to Charles, running her fingers across his cheek. I didn’t miss the slight flinch that happened when she made contact with him.

“If you wanna be real, then I can get real,” I growled, placing my palm on the bar, shifting my weight onto my hand. I launched myself over the counter, “I might just start a bonfire out back, throwing your scrawny ass on it, watching you melt in the flames,” before she had a chance to respond, my fingers were tangled in her hair extensions, yanking her head back with so much force I was surprised I didn’t snap her neck.

“Get off me you golddigger,” she screamed, trying to claw at my hands.

“Do you even know who he is?” I asked, cocking my brow.

“Some football player,” she said with so much confidence I couldn’t help but scoff.

“Yeah, such a skilled football player,” I said with a playful tone, locking eyes with Charles, watching as he laughed slightly with a small shrug of his shoulders.

Out of the corner of my eye I spotted Jax, leaning against the back worktop with a smug smirk on his face, “need any help Squirt?” he asked, shoving his hands in the front pocket of his jeans.

“Nah, I’ve got this,” I nodded, tugging harder on Ima’s hair causing her to scream, “the trash just needs taking out, that's all,” I growled, storming out of the bar, dragging Ima behind me.

Ignoring the sound of her cries I didn’t stop until I was standing outside of the building. I didn’t care if I was being over dramatic, this bitch needed to keep her hands off things that didn’t belong to her, like my man.

Shit, I was calling him my man now.

Fuck, I was acting like a jealous girlfriend!

I didn’t even know if I could call myself Charles’ girlfriend, just the thought made my heart skip a beat but I knew that come the end of the summer break he would be back doing what he did best. Racing around tracks at 200 miles an hour, living that playboy life, more than likely forgetting I existed.

Pushing the thoughts down I let my fist collide with Ima’s nose feeling the familiar crunching feeling under my knuckles, “you better stay away from him if you don’t want your whole face reconstructed.”

Loosening my grip on her cheap ass extensions I spun around on the balls of my feet, strolling back into the bar with a proud smirk on my face. The moment I got close enough to Charles, he wrapped his arms around my waist pulling me in between his thighs.

“You getting protective over me now, Sunshine?” he hummed, slipping his hand underneath the hoodie letting his fingers brush against the skin of my lower back, causing sparks to erupt across my skin.

Pulling my bottom lip between my teeth, I shook my head slightly, “nah, I just don’t want you catching an STD or something,” I said calmly.

The smirk on Charles face was enough to cause my knees to wobble, if it wasn’t for his strong arms wrapped around me I was pretty sure they would have given out on me.

“You sure about that, Babygirl,” he purred, leaning closer so his nose brushed against mine.

The two of us were locked in the moment, it was like there was no one else in the room with us, like we were protected by a bubble, until Jax rang the last order bell, causing me to jump at the unexpected sound, “I do not need to see whatever this,” he scoffed, waving his hands in the air, “is gonna lead to.”

“Oh Jackson, leave your sister alone,” Pops scolded, causing me to pull away from Charles slightly, instantly being greeted by a warm smile from Pops, “she’s young and in love, leave her be.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” I exclaimed, narrowing my eyes at my father, “who said anything about love?”

“Oh sunshine,” Charles beamed, reaching up and tucking a strand of hair behind my ear, “you are so in love with me, it’s written all over your beautiful face.”

Instantly I could feel the heat in the room rising, the hairs on the back of my neck standing to attention as Charles slowly moved his fingers across my cheek and I was pretty sure my ears were the same shade of red as his hoodie I was wearing.

“I can uninvite you from family movie night, ya know,” I huffed, pouting at him, “so I’d think carefully about who’s side you take.”

“No you can’t Auntie Nova,” Elenor said loudly, “I invited him so you can’t kick him out.”

“Yeah, Auntie Nova, I’m Elenor’s guest,” he hummed. The smile on Charles' face turned into a smug smirk as he moved his hand into the air so Elenor could fist bump him, “thanks for having my back Ellie-bear,” he grinned, throwing her a wink. I couldn’t believe this, everyone was ganging up on me.

“Sempre zio Charles, sempre,” she grinned.

I couldn’t help but giggle slightly at the expression on Jax’s face as he watched his little girl speak in another language. Yes she didn’t pronounce it perfectly but for her age it was really good.

“And in English?” he asked, letting his eyes dart between me and his daughter.

“She said, always uncle Charles, always,” I beamed, leaning over and ruffling her hair. “in Italian.”

“Princess, where did you learn that?” Jax asked with a proud smile on his face, as he walked around the bar until he was now scooping her up in his arms.

“Pierre told me what uncle was in Italian and I knew what always was,” she giggled.

“I wonder where she learned that from,” Jax said with a playful tone, cocking his brow at me.

“No idea,” I shrugged, wiggling out of Charles arms.

“Yes you do auntie Nov,” Elenor grinned. Was I really about to be called out by my five year old niece? “you are always saying ‘Forza Ferrari, sempre!”

Apparently I was.

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